Welcome to Gaia! ::

Not a single soul in the Weyr could say the Hatching had not been eventful. The shadow of uncertainty coloured the conversation, however, as Kestril saw fit not to appear at the Hatching. That alone was a obvious slight to the new Weyrlings.

And it left the Weyrleader R'nvar in charge of the operation. He was nervous, though he hid it well behind a charming smile and kind words as he greeted those who came. To the crimsonrider he was brief but not impolite, but it was obvious who his favour fell with when he greeted the new bronzerider warmly and congratulated him.

The feast had already been laid out and the greenriders who had attended were a twitter with gossip and laughter as they welcome more into the ranks. Greens were, as far as they were concerned, the luckiest dragons in a Weyr and the hatching had been a true success.

It was only after the last of the Weyrlins had entered had the Weyrwoman decided to appear - much to R'nvar's relief. She was dour and imposing, dressed up fineries and looking very much like a taskmistress rather then a motherly figure. Whatever reason she'd had for being late, she'd taken the time to make herself presentable.

Beyond, in the Weyrbowl, an irate Yirath moped and rumbled on her favorite rock and spurned the attention of the nearby attentive bronzes.

Eliaza didn't dress up often. Not like this. Not in an actual dress. She didn't like the things most of the time. They drew far too much attention to the fact that she was a girl, and more than that, that she was leaving childhood behind.

But an occasion like this, a celebration of her new status and the biggest change that would ever happen in her life? That deserved a dress. And so she'd put one on, happily a dark green like Halifanth's spots, and she'd gone to the feast.

Of course the celebration was a little marred by the fact that a crimson had hatched on Benden's sands. Oh yes, she'd noticed, even as distracted as she was. How could she help but notice? And she didn't like it. She was trying not to think things like 'bad omen', not on a night like tonight, but it lingered there at the back of her brain.

She put on a smile, though, and accepted quiet congratulations from those who gave them.

T'san had taken extra care with scrubbing his young dragon and himself for the feast that night. He stood tall now beside his beautiful Green, dressed in his very best clothes and looking both proud and embarrassed. He was a rider now, and with luck and hard work, he would be an asset to the Weyr. They all hopefully would, even the last hatched little Crimson. She was a cause for thought, an aytpical had never Hatched at Benden before! But, she'd seemed healthy, and her bond had been happy.

"Do not think of her now." Danath told him, a twinge of jealousy in her voice. She was young, and he was Hers, and he shouldn't really be thinking of anyone right now anyway. She was the most important to him! "She is of no importance."

"I'm still curious..." He told her, caressing her head as they walked. "I know you're the most important, Danath." And how it made his heart beat fast to say her name. Such a beautiful dragon. So wonderful, so perfect. And she had chosen him of all people!

Danath gave a pleased hum at his thoughts, accepting the compliments and all caresses. "We should find the others and pay our respects to them. The Browns and the Bronzes and the Queen."

"Your mother is still at the sands, Danath." Danath gave a little rumble. That was far away! "But I'm sure others will be around. It's a party, after all!"

To T'san, there would be no reason to not celebrate. There had been nine successful Impressions, and there were more healthy dragons! He looked through the crowd and spotted a girl he'd seen Impress.

"Oh! Uh.... Eliaza? Eliaza! Congratulations!" He called, waving to her and heading over. His smile was fit to crack his face in two. Even if the two hadn't spoken much, he knew her name and that made them friends.

Well, apparently she wasn't alone in having been chattered at by her new partner. She was a pretty thing, not quite as delicate in a 'put the doll on a shelf and don't touch' way as Gale, but pretty in a slightly more exotic way.
She was taller than Canoake, but that was fairly much expected. She did like the idea of having a sister, she'd never had one, and after such an unexpected hatching, it didn't seem like such a strange thing to hope for that she might find one in Yanath's real sister. Not yet anyway.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Tia." She offered, extending a hand and a smile, less guarded than she normally did. She'd let her hair down for the feast, one of the only 'dressy' things she could think of to do, and it's long time crimped into her normal tight braid had lent it an temporary wave. It (her hair) was prettier than what she was wearing, and suited her better than the long skirt with it's delicate edging, and matching tunic, neither of which was actually doing any favors as far as her slightly smaller chest went, and only made her hips look bigger, which was awkward. On someone else they might have looked better, but not on Tia's larger frame, so it was only the hair that really saved the look at all. "I was wondering if Tatath was doing the same as Yanath."

They hate me. Saazeyth thought flatly as they made their way to the Hatching Feast. They had been discussing that point most of the evening, thoughtful and contemplative as they tried to think up every possible confrontation. When finally they arrived, both felt ready to take on the Weyr. Shards, they felt ready to take on all of Pern. They arrived with heads held high, proud new members of Benden's dragonfolk. Proudly, Aislin had tied back freshly washed hair with a strip of brilliant red cloth. Saazeyth was, as far as Aislin was concerned, absolutely stunning. Now cleaned of the sand and egg goo that had covered her during the hatching, the unsettling color of her hide shone like a beacon. Most of her was the color of blood, marked with spots and stripes of an attention-grabbing shade of red. Even to Aislin, it still caused a bit of a shock. She wondered, had it not been her dragon, would she have been so accepting?

“Yes, well, they're stupid,” Aislin murmured in response, sparing an obviously forced smile as she exchanged only the minimal pleasantries with the Weyrleader. Every glance seemed loaded with judgment, but Aislin's hand remained all but glued to the top of Saazeyth's head, claiming Benden's new shame as her pride.

Not stupid, Saazeyth corrected, and the tolerance drew a frustrated sigh from Aislin. The new rider had already proposed the idea of escaping to Trine, of replacing the crimson Benden had taken from them. There, they would be hailed. They would be welcomed. The thought was briefly comforting to Aislin, but in the end they both knew it was an act of cowardice. No, they would stay in Benden, in their home. And if Benden would not accept them as they were... well, they would just have to change it. They just don't understand. Give it time, we will make them understand.

“A wher does not change it's markings,” Aislin murmured.

Then we will change the wher, Saazeyth did not skip a beat, her optimism shining through. Aislin couldn't help but be proud of the way the little crimson carried herself in the crowd, her head held high, meeting the inquisitive gazes as well as the scornful ones. Her own eyes never flickered from their brilliant shade of blue.

“Ah, she's here,” Aislin paused as her gaze found Kestril. The woman had not hidden her outrage, nor her shame, at Saazeyth's arrival, and anger rose in Aislin at the thought of it. How could a gold have ever chosen such a callous wherry of a woman? A woman who would have let a hatchling die? “We should find S'raid.”

We will pay our respects.

“She doesn't want our respects.”

She is Weyrwoman. We will pay them anyways.

“Saazeyth, d-” she began, but the small crimson was already trotting over towards the Weyrwoman, taking advantage of the superstitious idiots who edged away from her, as though her color might be infectious. Aislin looked like a cornered animal, every muscle tense and ready, as though she feared someone might lunge from the shadows to steal her lifemate away. It was, sadly, not an unjustified fear. She waited for the small crowd around Kestril to clear before she made her approach.

“Weyrwoman,” Aislin forced a smile to accompany the words, folding in a deep bow, “Congratulations on a successful clutch.”

Danath greeted the other green with a little tilt of her head. "Halifanth. Good to see you. You look well. Yours is very nice." Danath had scoped out Eliaza as they walked over, and she didn't seem like a drama inducing rank queen. She seemed nice by the way she dealt with Danath's beloved T'san. The man was a flit in human form sometimes.

"I'm still getting used to the whole...." He made a little air apostrophe sign with an arm. "Honnorific thing. I think Danath has to remind me...." He grinned and gave her a quick little hug. "Congratulations so much! You and Halifanth are going to have so much fun! And she's beautiful! I love her dark spots! Both of us got two beautiful, spotty girls."

The young green turned from her sister as soon as the young Bronze. She watched him with alert, bright eyes. "Good evening, Acriculeth." She greeted simply, standing proud as if she were at attention already.

"Ah! Here he is! A'nos? Good to finally meet you up and close!" He clapped the young man on the arm and grinned. "Congratulations to you and yours! Look forward to training with you guys!"

He was still much like a large fire lizard: So excitable and cheerful. Danath gave a little rumbled and nudged his leg. Calm down, boy! He just grinned and caressed her head. It was too exciting tonight to be calm, Danath!

K’la had trouble deciding on what to wear. There were too many factors to the event. Typically, she chose her dress deciding on her role, as either a reveler or rider, a socialite or formal representative. But tonight she was unsure. She usually wore her best dresses and finery to Hatchings, but this was a special case. Her son had Impressed at long last, and her pride for him being a second generation rider (and her friendship with Canoake), led her to choosing a set of green rider leathers. They were, in fact, too fine for hard riding, and she wouldn’t have worn them long outside for fear of sweat marring the beautiful dappled coloring. When she did finally arrive, it was long after Kestril even. Still, she made to pay her respects, smiling sunnily at all the pretty greens and chatting idly with those who’d gathered to speak with the Weyrwoman. She’d wanted to present her son Kadayon to Kestril, but thought it might be best for him to do so himself now, as a man and rider. She sighed happily at the thought and glanced back, hoping to see him among the crowd, but what she saw instead was a shock.

The crimson was just behind her – that girl with her, looking as feral of the eye as her dragon’s hide – and it was such a bleeding shade of red that K’la’s eyes blew wide with astonishment at the sight. She made a small sound in her throat and averted her gaze from the offending shade and, quite deftly, stepped side. She gave not up only her place, but her want to speak with Kestril quite entirely, 'fleeing' from the head of the weyr to a side table.

May I see the dragonets now? Galvanth inquired of his rider, his tone wistful, but persistent. S'raid had been faced with this question during the time that he had spent preparing for the Feast, and his answer was the same now as it had been before. Wait, Galvanth. An opportunity will present itself. He had not had time to coddle his overly paternal dragon while putting on the best of his Gather finery-- if there was a hint of red to his attire, it was surely a coincidence. On top of that, he wore the fine weyrhide jacket that another young Crimsonrider had made for him, and he wore it proudly, rank knots (such as they were) displayed prominently.

He was here to support Aislin, and Saazeyth, as well as the other new weyrlings. Particularly, he was interested in the young Bronzerider, and the male Greenrider, along with his-- the Crimsonrider. Aislin, the great Bronze fool put in, nearly chirping with excitement, I would like to meet Saazeyth. May I see Saazeyth? Trust Galvanth not only to know the Crimson's name, but to request an audience with the little beast. S'raid suppressed a sigh, but knew that it was a foregone conclusion. Galvanth liked dragonets, as he had discovered at Trine.

S'raid is here, and you are here... and she is here. You will not be there all of the time, yes? because Galvanth, naturally, wanted as much time as possible to be devoted to the meeting of the dragonet-- though if he thought that he could get away with it, he would want to meet all of the new hatchlings. Let Aislin be, S'raid requested, catching sight of the girl as she stood before the Weyrwoman. No, not girl. Woman. Young woman. She had proven that this day by Impressing, finally. It almost made him nostalgic. No, that was a lie. It did make him nostalgic.

Seven, eight Turns ago, it had been he who stood on the Sands his final time, desperate at last to Impress. He had never shared that feeling of desperation with anyone else, but he had felt it profoundly. He would not have had any more chances, and would have to have faded back into the background of the Weyr, becoming just one of many weyrfolk. Utterly, totally forgettable. He had been destined for more, just as each and every one of these young, new riders was destined for more. A faint swelling of pride filled him as he let his eyes wander over the new blood. They were Benden riders, and that had once meant something. Maybe, still, it would continue to mean something.

Galvanth had a deep and abiding loyalty to his home Weyr, and S'raid could not entirely echo it. He had once been proud to be a Benden Bronzerider, but that had come to mean almost nothing as Benden slowly faded away, as he had come to see new, and other ways of looking at the world. He still considered Benden to be better on a gut level, but why did they persist in perpetuating the foolishness that had ended Alumanth's life, and her rider's with her? Fiercely, he look over the riders that clustered around Kestril. Let even a one of them dare lay a wrong hand on Aislin. ... Ahh, but that was foolishness. The girl could, and would, take care of herself.

His was a stern presence, as he made his way through the crowd. Finally, he stopped before A'nos, and the covey of Greenriders. "Congratulations," he said simply, inclining his head ever so slightly. Enough, it seemed, to express his approval, but no more. "They are fine young beasts. Serve them well." That was quite enough. He had little interest in lingering, when it seemed that Aislin was brewing up trouble with the Weyrwoman. He had no notion of how Kestril would respond, but if the woman had even one intelligent thought in that head of hers (and to his knowledge, she had many), she would take this opportunity to recover some of Benden's lost pride.

S'raid had watched K'la flee, and now he went to her, a single eyebrow raised in inquiry. "K'la, was that your son I saw with a Blue on the Sands?" he asked, affecting his most charming smile. "Quite a fine young fellow, if I may say so." He wanted to know what she thought of the new Crimson, though judging from her response, he rather suspected that her thoughts were very much in line with the Traditionalists of the Weyr. Would she still greet him respectfully, after the accolades he had received from the Trine and Malvren Weyrwomen alike? It had been his duty to play diplomat to those Weyrs, as it had been all of theirs, lest they forget.