The Morning After (D'gan) Oct 4, 2012 11:18:49 GMT -8
Post by Cait on Oct 4, 2012 11:18:49 GMT -8
Late Morning | Sunny and Warm
Near the Weyrling Barracks
Late Morning | Sunny and Warm
Near the Weyrling Barracks
The remainder of the Hatching had been a blur, so intent upon her own Impression was Rekkora. And why shouldn’t she be? She was the first person to Impress to an Abyss since before the Weyr Wars! Of course the second that the Abyss had stopped in front of her on the Sands, her choice made; from that point on Rekkora had found the one being in her life that she cared about more than herself. It wasn’t as though she didn’t care about others but as of yet in her life; she had yet to find anything that could trump her self-centered tendencies. All of that had changed in a matter of seconds.
It was still impossible to entirely fathom the way she felt about the addition to her life. Yes, she had be confident that she was destined for something great, but now that it had happened Rekkora was a little apprehensive. She’d been convinced that she would Impress a Gold or a Silver perhaps, nothing had prepared her for the arrival of an Abyss. The day before, she’d been so thrilled to Impress and tangled up in her own elation that Rekkora hadn’t though about the implications of her new lifemate’s coloring in earnest. At least not in regards to how it would affect her.
While she, like everyone else on Pern, knew of the Weyr Wars and the role that the last Abyss had played in them, Rekkora hadn’t considered that that particular stigma would carry over to her precious Sunvoiath. In fact she’d been quite oblivious for the first time in a long time; so giddy and smug. It had come as a surprise that morning when she’d entered the dining hall for breakfast and as she walked along the tables, hushed whispers fell silent as she neared and people watched her then sprung to life again after she’d passed. More than once she heard words like Abyss, Valorith and even Renika. Unwilling to cause a scene or wake Sunvoiath with her annoyance, she had lifted her chin, chosen a spot amongst some of her
She hadn’t felt the Abyss stir, but when Rekkora had returned to her room in the barracks, Sunvoiath was sitting there, neck arched and waiting. Pausing inside the door, Rekkora lifted a brow and were she capable, the woman was almost certain that the young Queen would have mimicked the expression. “Did you need something, love? I already fed you this morning; does your hide itch?”
Something is upsetting you; you are...annoyed? Perhaps…angry? No, not angry. You are not happy.[/b] The tip of Sunvoiath’s tail twitched in vauge annoyance at her inability to find the proper word, a flash orange rippling through her yellow-green eyes as she stood, wings unfurling slightly and exposing the concentrated patch of gold on her right wing near where it bent. It was the largest tangled patch of gold on the young Queen and quite beautiful in a raw, almost savage sort of way.
“Nothing to worry about; just gossips. We will prove ourselves in time, love.” There wasn’t an ounce of doubt in the young woman’s voice as she crossed the gap between herself and her dragon and reached out, sliding her fingers over the soft, dark hide on the Queen’s jaw. She truly was beautiful. And the moment Rekkora thought it, a flash of blue rippled through the dragon’s eyes. Smirking, Rekkora rubbed the golden-streaked nose of her lifemate then moved to a nearby shelf to gather up the oil pot and brush kept there along with bathing and grooming supplies for both dragon and human alike. “Come, Sunvoiath, the sun will be at its peak soon and I rather feel like flaunting your beauty.”
The Abyss made a small sound that might one day grow into a rumble, clearly amused by her rider’s lack of shame. At the very least the day-old Queen had gleaned from the girl’s mind that the suspicion of others in regards to Sunvoiath annoyed her. But rather than keep out of sight to avoid the gossips, Rekkora chose to strut about in the open and all but challenge the ones who whispered of doom and gloom. Yes, she had chosen well. Pushing to her feet, the young dragon stretched languidly, her wings unfurling completely before she tucked them against her back once more and stalked out of the chamber ahead of her rider though once they were both in the corridor they walked side by side.
Together they emerged into the late morning, far warmer than Rekkora was used to given that it was technically winter on the Southern Continent. Back North she would have been bundled and would have avoided emerging from the tunnels and corridors at all cost unless it was a glorious day. In the late morning sun, Sunvoiath’s golden streaks sparkled with the luster of any gold while the rest of her, though the darkest black, seemed to possess a similar luster.
As one, they moved toward fairly large flat rock that looked as though it might once have been a ledge that had fallen into the weyrbowl though it hardly seemed large enough to hold even a white dragon. It was, however, the perfect size for a day-old Queen to climb up onto and strike a rather majestic and watchful pose. Smiling at the sight of Sunvoiath in the sunlight, Rekkora paused for a moment to admire the Abyss. It was still a little hard to believe with barely a day having passed that she was no longer a Candidate but a Weyrling…to a Queen and one that would grow to be powerful and glorious; there was no doubt in her mind of that.
Why do you always stare at me so? It is all well and good that others stare in wonder, but you should not look so awed. My left wing itches.[/b] The first part was an observation made in a bemused tone, voice once more like silk rippling in a faint breeze. Rekkora doubted she would ever get tired of that voice, so cool and smooth against her mind. The last, however, was quite clearly an order; the tone abruptly gaining the harsh resonance of polished steel clashing. Shaking her head she moved around the low stone and uncorked the jar and dipping the brush into the oil, she stepped forward and began to apply it as directed to the places that itched the worst first.