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The candidates were at breakfast when the dragons started to hum.

Ever pragmatic Candidatemaster Venk shoved the remains of his bread into his mouth, washed it down in a gulp with the rest of his klah, vaulted over the High Table, leapt off the dais and jogged over to his charges. "Right then," he paused to cough a bit and thump his chest a few times, "let's be moving then! Everyone in uniform? Everyone presentable? Good! Standing candidates follow me, junior candidates go with J'virn to find your places in the stands."

Without further ado the tall stocky man led the hopefuls through the tunnels of the Weyr, outside, and around to the mouth of the Hatching Cavern. Spectators were already streaming in either on foot or on the backs of their dragons and the chatter of human voices added to the thrumming of the dragons that echoed around the Sands.

"Alright," Venk turned to his charges again, "you all know the rules. Line yourselves up neatly, don't approach any hatchling unless it has bonded to you, certainly don't touch and unbonded dragon - they will be unImpressed, ahaha - and be sure to move sharpish if a hatchling comes barrelling towards you. If anyone is hurt it is the duty of everyone else to get them over to the healers if they need immediate care, and if not then just to look out for them. Alright?" They had been over it all many times and in much more detail, the kids were probably sick to death of hearing the lecture but he was scored if he was going to neglect a final run through. "Alright," Venk repeated and gave a decisive nod, "in you all go, and good luck!"

Inside the cavern the Stands were really starting to fill up. Placed front and centre was the High Stand where various dignitaries sat; there was Weyrleader O'ail, the wingleaders, and the rider of the clutch's sire. There were empty spaces remaining, one for goldrider Nersha, others for other high ranking folk, and several beside O'ail for expected guests. As the candidates filed in a brown dragon swooped in overhead to deposit two of those guests of honour, it was Lady Regent Tanathi of Tillek Hold with her young son and heir to the Hold Drathi, plus a couple of bodyguards. The boy clung onto his mother's hand and looked about himself with wide, awestruck eyes. Even as those fine folk were greeted by O'ail and took their places a foreign green dragon glided in; she was wiry, mottled dull green of hide and much scarred; she was Scimitath of Igen Weyr and she bore her rider the umber skinned Weyrleader Eo’rah along with her Weyrmate, who was resplendent in a blue gown and a warm smile.

All of this of course was perhaps more interesting to politically minded spectators than it was to the candidates on the Sands, what probably held their attention was the clutch of thirty two eggs guarded by their golden mother. Several of the eggs were already moving, it seemed that the young hopefuls would not have to wait long to see their first dragon and those who had wagered against the clutch hatching at all would have to start counting their losses.

Masterharper Cedeny was dressed as conservatively as ever, in a rich burgundy gown with her hair secured neatly beneath a white linen wimple. From her place in the High Stand, she had an excellent view of the sands - not that she needed to be here, but a hatching was (usually) a joyful event, and Cedeny could do with a little joy in her life right now. Her failure - and it was a very personal failure - to track down the previous Weyrleader’s assailant hung as heavy as an albatross about her neck. Though she was still following up whatever leads she could scrounge, she was beginning to concede that unless fresh evidence came to light, whoever it was may well have gotten away unpunished.

“I suppose this is the moment of truth” she said to no-one in particular. She disapproved of this whole mess, and of that blue rider allowing his dragon near the Queen. A conservative at heart, she disliked the upheaval it would inevitably bring - and the risk to the smooth operation of the Weyr. She had a little respect for Shylla, but not much - the woman seemed to go from one calamity to another, always associated with her dragon (though that was not so very uncommon in riders). She couldn’t deny the woman worked hard and was competent, and yet...

“I wouldn’t know. A little more precedent would be necessary to establish anything of the kind, and I cannot see a repeat of this incident any time soon” The Master said tartly, extending her goblet to him imperiously - it was clasped in her one good hand, the stump of her other arm concealed by the folds of her sleeve. “Would you fill up my glass?”

That she considered the blue rider an irresponsible oaf was besides the point.

Of course Cai was in uniform. Cai scoffed. Why ever wouldn't they be? There was no malice in the thought directed at Venk though as his enthusiasm got the whole lot of them moving rather swiftly. Cai stood with a little more composure, dusting an errant crumb from their chest and shrugging in a practiced way that set their tunic to rights.

There was still a flicker of apprehension as Cai followed Venk to the Hatching Sands, their long strides seeing the redhead near the front of the grey-clothed pack. Dared Cai stand for the traitorous gold's clutch, sired by a blue? The Touching had left it's impression, as did many of the other's before it that the hatchlings were strong and healthy but doubt and judgement still nibbled at the back of Cai's mind. It would be a great risk to refuse to Stands. A great statement too. Such were Cai's thoughts as Venk gave them the final repeat of their lessons and sent them in. Automatically they stepped forward into the blazing heat, their decision made even as they weighed the odds.

Slipping into her seat Nersha smoothed out her skirt and folded her hands neatly in her lap. She'd opted to dress smartly, but reserved. It was a celebration, but it was of Evmeth's clutch and far from her place to try and draw attention to herself with her appearance. A simple dress and blouse combination, a bit of embroidery on the skirt, but nothing flashy. The only thing really of note about the woman's outfit was the blue sash tied securely around her waist, but that could have just been the choice to add a bit of colour to her clothing.

The blonde let her eyes roam about the cavern, taking in the sights of the clutch, audience and candidates. It seemed the clutch was healthy, so far as they could tell at this point. Nersha hadn't doubted on whether the eggs would hatch if she was honest. Blue firelizards and whers sired clutches, why wouldn't a blue dragon? She pondered more what the colours of the youngsters would be. The "worst" case scenario was that the whole clutch was green and blue. Even then so long as they were all healthy and impressed then that was no real tragedy.

My congratulations to you both Evmeth and Malcarreth. Would you allow me to watch the hatching and impression of your children? Some clutchparents could be defensive of their eggs and Sereth had no desire to cause Evmeth stress today. The outreach was more for her benefit than anything, but Sereth didn't want to have the gold's mate get all snippy if she didn't ask him too. The dragon lay on her perch, awaiting their answer. It would be an interesting hatching to behold after all.

Well well, the troublemaker was here and she was being oddly respectful. Settled comfortably on the outsized perch always reserved for the clutchfather Malcarreth reached out to address both Sereth and Evmeth. Given how Evmeth had acted during the Flight Malcarreth didn't think that she would mind the other gold's presence but he had to wonder what Shylla would think.

Whatever the case turned out to be he welcomed the conversation, it was a diversion from the dark thoughts spiralling around inside his head. Many of the eggs were moving but there was still time for things to go horribly, horribly wrong.

Eating breakfast probably wasn't the best thing to do right before the hatching. At least, not in Qyprenna's mind. She could already feel the contents of her stomach, along with little firelizards that fluttered around inside, and her nerves caused it to ache a little. Regardless of those nerves, she couldn't help but beam in Venk's direction when he told them all that it was time to head out. She had been looking forward to this day ever since the Touching happened, and it was bound to be a momentous one!

Ok -- the hatching is today. Dragons are coming out of the eggs, and people are Impressing. Keep your wits about you, pay attention if someone gets hurt, don't do anything stupid, and you'll be fine. Breathe. You'll be fine. Oh, man -- baby dragons! This is going to be great. All of these thoughts and more rushed through the young woman's head as she walked along to the sands with the rest of the standing candidates. Like the rest of them, she was fully dressed in her uniform, which she made sure was immaculate, as she wanted to be as presentable as possible. Once at the stands, she couldn't help but gaze in awe at Evmeth, her beautiful clutch, the people who had already shown up in the stands, and the fact that some eggs were already moving.

So many things were going on, and it was a whirl of emotions for Qyp already.

She just hoped that the hatching would be everything she hoped it to be.

Venaith soared effortlessly into the massive cavern dodging the larger dragons with a pleasant ease as he found a spot to deposit Pagerell safely. The young bronze hummed happily as he flew another short burst to one of the smaller dragon ledges and took his place beside a handful of blue and green dragons who still dwarfed him in size. He didn't seem to mind though as his eyes whirled merrily. What a spectacular morning!

Pagerell made his way towards the front of the stands where the seating was usually reserved for less prominent guests. It just felt wrong to him, with turns of ingrained privilege, to sit in the higher seats when there was a better view available. He was a Lord's son, and a bronzerider of Benden. That his status had changed here was still something he was coming to grips with even months later. In his arms draped the curious form of a firelizard hatchling, her fair hide matching that of her bonded's shorn hair. She peeped and thrummed questioningly before Pagerell hushed her by stroking her neck.

~........~

Dianno had already claimed a seat in the high rises, curiosity winning out over rebellion. This was a clutch he'd been aching to see since the flight. Aioth had gladly been a fountain of gossip over the last few months. Her nosy nature feeding him every little tidbit she could overhear from the other dragons about the nature of the clutch, the bets taking place, the circles of people taking sides one way or another, as well as how it might have affected the recent Weyrleader vote. (And why in Faranth's name wasn't the Bluerider Weyrleader? That was so very odd. The visiting greenrider was Weyrleader of Igen!) Aioth was content and pleased with the amount of information being thrown back and forth through the air with no regards to who might overhear.

Dianno kept half an ear on Aioth's running commentary. In truth he just wanted to see what happened when a whole Weyr had to eat their own words. J'ian hadn't won Weyrleader but this should still provide sufficient entertainment. Who knew what might change should the clutch prove as healthy as it appeared?

..............~

Well Shaff. Cai was not surprised by that particular egg hatching first. They stood on edge as it bolted for them. Anyone in it's way would have to move inhumanly fast.