Intervention (Hallowshade)

Nadia's text is mysterious- much like my best friend herself, since she became a teenage vampire four years ago:

Meet me at the Falcon- come alone

The Gilded Falcon is the only cool bar in our small northeastern town.  Sometimes I think it's the only bar in town, since it's the only one where anything seems to happen.  It's been exploded and rebuilt a time or two (or is it three?  It's been an eventful half decade, hard to keep track), but each time it seems to come back exactly the same.  Just like us.

Anyway, none of the bouncers there check our IDs anymore, so even tho' technically we're all seventeen or eighteen for the rest of eternity, we spend a reasonable amount of time at Falcon's, drinking things other than blood.  Well, except for Freja, who was spelled to violently reject anything but the blood of virgins a few months back.  We're still working on a cure for that, primarily because virgins are a rapidly dwindling commodity ever since Cyrus came into (as it were) his incubus heritage.

The Falcon looks closed as I approach (it keeps super-weird hours that oddly seem to coincide with when we need privacy), but I don't trust the quiet.  I stop across the street and glance around for anyone hiding in the shadows: nothing.  Then I concentrate for a moment on my hearing, listening for anything out of the ordinary.  Little bumps and scrapes coming from inside the bar indicate the presence of more than just Nadia.  I listen harder, but the problem with being super-powered immortal beings is that we've gotten in the habit of speaking very softly just in case someone with super-powered-hearing is listening.  I can hear at least two voices, but can't make out what they're saying.  Two more-or-less human heartbeats, tho', which is surprising: that means that, in addition to Nadia, at least Portia and Emir are in there.

Is it a surprise party? I wonder.  But there's no occasion for a surprise party.  My birthday was at the beginning of summer, and my deathday isn't until Christmas (and yes, it's just as obnoxious to share a deathday with Christmas as it is to share a birthday, even if it did give me a few extra vampire powers).

Eventually I shrug and cross the street.  There's no sound of a struggle, so it's unlikely that whatever's going on means trouble for me.

Oh how wrong I am.

There are nine-  no, wait, eleven.  There are eleven of us now that I've walked through the front door: the core five who started it all, and the six others who have wandered in and out of our lives since the day James and Nadia pledged their eternal love.  Of course, James is with Rei now, but we all get along tolerably well, even tho I haven't seen some of these people in at least three years.

"Hey guys," I say, trying not to feel paranoid.  "What's up?"

"This is an intervention, Ruby," says Nadia, and I can see her luminescent brown eyes are welling up with tears.

"For whom?" I ask, trying not to glance at Cyrus, who is currently nuzzling Emir's neck.  Emir looks vaguely bored, which is not a typical expression for a teenage werewolf.

"For you, Ruby," says Heinrich, placing a protective hand on Nadia's delicate shoulder.  He's capable of brooding even more impressively than his cousin, James, and he turns the full force of that troubled look at me now.  "We're worried about you, Ruby."

"About me?" I grin.  "Why would you be worried about me?  I'm the most drama-free person in this room!"  I mean it as a joke, but... it's actually true.  Really true.  Ten sets of inhumanly beautiful eyes stare back at me, and my smile falters.

"Ruby, you know we love you," says Muriel.  She's the newest in our little group, just pulled into our dimension last year, so I'm not really sure that she's had time to grow to "love" me, but-

"So much," says Nadia.

"So much," Muriel agrees, nodding her white-blonde head earnestly.  "But Ruby, have you ever thought that maybe you just..." she trails off, helpless.

"Maybe you're not good for the group," Hiro says, firmly.  I give him a raised eyebrow.

"I'm not good for the group?  I'm not the one whose weird twin-magic," I cock my head towards his sister Rei, "Had everyone body-hopping for three months.  Or the one who let their demon-turned father," I shift my gaze to James, "Blackmail them- with some stupid shit, quite frankly- into providing all of our blood for dark rituals.  In fact, I'm the one who stopped him-"

"By killing him!" James bursts out, eyes going red with rage-induced blood-lust.  Rei places a restraining hand on his chest, but I'm in no mood to coddle him.

"Hell yes by killing him," I shoot back.  "He killed Lydia!  He killed Dawn!  He killed Aaron and he was going to kill Portia again!  And every time he killed, his demon-self got stronger and more evil!  Of course I killed him!"

"There might have been a way to redeem-"

"There wasn't," I say, flatly.  "Keeping him alive would have lead to more deaths, and you know it."

"Then why did you kill Kate?" asks Freja, coldly.  "She was just a mortal, and hadn't killed anyone at all."

I throw up my hands in exasperation.  "She didn't kill anyone because I snapped her neck before she could.  And the only reason I was able to snap her neck was because she was still mortal which, if you'll recall, she was looking to change within the next month by killing a werewolf vampire hybrid," I glare at Heinrich, "With that damned cursed dagger she had!  I just stopped things from getting beyond our ability to deal with them."

"That's just it!" Nadia bursts out.  "You're always doing that lately!"

"Always saving the day?"  The sarcasm dripping from my voice causes her to flinch, but I'm irritated enough by this ludicrous situation not to care.

"Always stopping things before they get really interesting," Cyrus complains.

"Wait- what?" this draws me up short.

"Yeah," says Emir.  "You killed Kate before she could ascend as Hecate and we all sort of... went home.  End of story."

"And that's bad?" my voice raises an octave with my incredulity.

"Very bad," says Muriel, seriously.  "We're teenage vampires-"

"And incubi."

"And werewolves."

"And hybrids."

"And witches."

"And re-embodied ghosts."

"And dragon spirits."

"And-"

"The point," Muriel says loudly, "Is that we're immortal creatures of the night, and you're too pragmatic."

"You're making it boring," Rei pouts.  "When you figured out that James and I had secretly fallen in love, and that Nadia and Heinrich were actually eternally-bound soul mates, you made us all sit down and talk it out and we had everything resolved within three days.  That's not how epic love stories are supposed to work!"

"And just last week," Cyrus adds, "You smashed the Mirror of Ancients before anyone could get trapped in their past lives."

"...are you fucking kidding me right now?  Did you want to spend a few centuries stuck as a medieval peasant?"

"We just want you to try," pleads Nadia.

"Try what?" I snap.  "Try letting some psycho actually get all the way through their plan to suck Hallowshade into a hell dimension, without interrupting them?"

"You don't have to go that big right away," Portia says quickly.  "Maybe start with something a little smaller.  Like a love-triangle with a normal human couple, and in the end you selflessly leave so they can live out their mortal lives together."

"One," I hold up a finger, "that sounds incredibly pointless for everyone involved. And two," I hold up a second finger, "there are barely any normal humans left in this town, anyway.  Pretty much everyone has some sort of mystical connection going on."

"They could be outsiders?" Hiro said, helpfully.

"Still dumb," I snarl.

"Okay, okay, no love triangles," says Portia.  "What about-"

Cyrus suddenly brightens.  "What about a mystical preg-"

"If you finish that sentence, Cyrus, I will rip your fucking tongue out."  I mean this quite literally, and I'm certain he realizes it, because he shuts up.  There's an uncomfortable silence.

"Look, Ruby," Heinrich says at last, drawing himself up to his full, impressive height.  "If you're not willing to change, then we can't be a party to your actions any longer."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Nadia's tears have spilled over and are running down her perfectly sculpted cheekbones, gleaming silver in the bar lights.  "It means we can't... we can't..."

"We can't be friends with you any longer," says Freja, voice gone from cold to glacial.

"Yeah, I got that part," I say, rolling my eyes.  "But what does it mean?  Are you just going to give me the eternal silent treatment?  Or are we going to be, like, mortal enemies now?  Should I be looking over my shoulder for alternating assassination/reconciliation attempts?"

No one answers me- in fact they're all avoiding eye contact.  I heave a giant sigh, because I know how this has to go.  Have seen it coming for a while, if I'm being brutally honest with myself.

"You know what, never mind," I say.  "If you guys hadn't said anything, I probably would have, myself.  You haven't exactly been subtle with the way you ignore my perfectly straightforward plans in favor of your elaborate schemes.  I'll make this easier on all of us and just take my leave.  Give me a couple days to pack up my shit and forward my mail, and I'll be out of your hair.  I'm sure I can find a nice, non-magical-magnet sort of place to settle down and pass a quiet couple of centuries."

"Ruby-" cries Nadia as I spin on my heel, and her sorrow is exquisite enough to break your heart.  But I know that me leaving like this, all big-gesture-y, will give her more of what she needs than me staying to work things out ever could.  Besides, I'm just so exhausted by all of the convoluted drama, and it's only been five years since vampires came into our lives, and two years since I turned.  The idea of doing this for the rest of eternity makes me want to stake myself, and so I keep going, ignoring James as he mutters,

"Forward her mail?  See, that's exactly why she had to go.  In all my three-hundred years, I've never forwarded my mail.  It's just so mundane..."



***
(In Case You Were Curious)

Ruby- a vampire with "a few extra powers".  Like pragmatism.
Nadia- vampire
Freja- vampire witch
Cyrus- vampire incubus
Portia- re-embodied ghost
Emir- werewolf
James- vampire
Rei- water-dragon spirit
Heinrich- vampire-werewolf hybrid
Muriel- vampire from a hell dimension
Hiro- fire-dragon spirit

Proy G. Biv

Holy stars, I'm back to being Ahead on Neeps's monthly portrait cards.  Woo!

Rainbow Dragons!

I will tell you a secret, if you'd like: see those two little dragons, down in the right hand corner? They are babies, which you can tell by the way their horns aren't as developed.

Next up?  Drawing nine cats, because obviously.

Eight for a Wish

I've been making little drawings for Neeps's monthly portraits, and in light of recent activities, it shouldn't be super surprising which animal I've chosen for the swiftly-approaching Eight Month Mark:

I miss having a functioning scanner.

I'm thinking of making them a veritable rainbow of colors...

Dragonlove 08

C’Len did, indeed, have a few thoughts on who might be best for his twin.

“Well it rather depends on what you’re looking for,” he said, “but off the top of my head, I’d say you wouldn’t regret a dalliance with D’ski, Z’Rey, or T’zel- they’re fellow brown-riders.  Oh, and W’tarran, who rides bronze Korvath, is very funny and quite laid back: you might enjoy spending time with him.

“Hmm,” said C’Fra.  “It’s a starting point, I suppose.  None of them have issues with a female riding a fighting dragon?”

C’Len looked insulted.  “I should hope you don’t honestly believe I would recommend you take time with anyone who did!”  He heaved a sigh.  “Look, C’Fra, I won’t lie- of course there are those in the wings who have ridiculously old-fashioned notions about women on anything other than a gold-”

“The irony, of course, being that in the truly olden-days, only women rode greens,” C’Fra said with some acidity.  It was, perhaps, the most personally-satisfying bit of recovered information to come out of all the record-salvaging going on down in Landing.

“Yes, well, just because you can Impress a dragon doesn’t mean you can’t also be an idiot,” C’Len shook his head. “Ancients know we’ve had enough proof of that down through the ages.  But that particular kind of idiot is getting rarer and rarer, sister-mine, so don’t worry too much about it, okay?”

“I don’t, mostly.  I just… wouldn’t want to be in a situation where one of those prejudiced idiots…” she trailed off, and gave a shudder.  C’Len’s eyes flashed dangerously.

“Anith would never permit herself to be caught by a dragon with such a rider.”

Of course not, Anith said.  I would do nothing to cause you distress.

“That’s very sweet, my darling love, but from what I understand, you won’t be focusing on much beyond your own needs, in that particular moment.”

Well what I need is for my rider to be happy.  C’Fra recognized the echo of her own acid tone in her dragon’s voice, and C’Len gave a hearty laugh.

“What a pair you are!” he said, shaking his head.  “I shall miss you both when we’ve gone.”

“Do you really have to go?  Can’t you just absent yourself whenever Anith rises?”

C’Len shook his head again, this time in regret.  “My wingleader thinks it best, and honestly I agree with him.  Greens rise multiple times each Turn- it wouldn’t be good for my wing to have me absent so frequently, and so erratically. Besides which, the chance to spend time at Southern is not exactly unappealing.”

C’Fra sighed.  “No, I suppose not.”

I still do not understand why Tadith may not fly me, Anith complained.  He is really a most excellent brown.

“We’ve been over this, Anith,” C’Fra said, exasperated.  C’Len was stifling laughter, no doubt remembering the time she’d abandoned him to explain human breeding mores to his dragon.  “It is not good when humans mate too close to their own bloodline.”

It is unfortunate, I think, said Anith.  Look at how well close breeding worked for the dragons of Benden Weyr!

“Now love, what is good for dragons is often no good at all for humans.  Imagine if I tried chewing firestone!”

Do not do that!  Anith’s eyes whirled in agitation.  You would break your teeth.  And you do not have the second stomach to process it, so you would not be able to flame even if you were able to swallow any.

“Precisely.  So although I am certain you and Tadith would have a most excellent mating flight, for you are the two most excellent dragons in all of Pern, it would not be so good for C’Len and I.”

I suppose…

C’Len left the following week, and C’Fra lost no time in getting to know the four riders he had mentioned.  Mindful of his statement that it depended on what she was “looking for”, she tried to evaluate them as dispassionately as possible.  Given that all of them were of better-than-average looks, this was not a particularly easy task.  When asked if she had a preference between any of their dragons, Anith replied that her preference was the one who could catch her.

“Anyway why would you want to be dispassionate about a thing like sex?” asked Kivah, the young woman who had ended up Impressing gold Lyzith out of the same clutch C’Fra had Impressed Anith.  Lyzith was still not fully mature, but Kivah was weyr-bred and had the typically casual weyr-attitude about sex.  “Pick whichever one makes your toes curl and proposition him.  None of them are likely to say no!”

C’Fra rolled her eyes at her friend.  “Kivah, who did you lose your virginity to?”

“Lose nothing.  I gave it away!”

“Okay, fine.  To whom did you give your virginity to?”

Kivah thought for a moment, then shrugged.  “I’m not really sure.  That was a while ago.  And it doesn’t really matter- whoever he was, we were just kids, figuring things out together.  No need to make a big deal out of it.”

“Well it’s a slightly bigger deal to me,” C’Fra said.  “I’m not expecting to become weyrmates with whomever I choose to lay down with- I don’t want a weyrmate at this point!  And I don’t even require that we love one another, because obviously there’s no time for that, not if I want to get rid of maidenhead before Anith rises.  But I’d like for there to be mutual respect- perhaps even affection!  I’d like to remember his name, and for him to remember mine.”

“So judgmental!”  Kivah laughed to show she didn’t mean it, then wrapped her arm around C’Fra’s shoulders.  “Look, I happen to know that both T’zel and W’Tarran are exceptionally considerate lovers.  You could do worst for your first time.  Z’Rey is… well, that’s an intense experience, and one you might very well like to save for when Anith rises.”

“And D’Ski?”

“I haven’t managed to trip him, yet, so your guess is as good as mine.”

Dragonlove 07

If time stood still in the moment that Caffera and Anith Impressed, it sped back up again the moment that Caffera realized how hungry Anith was.  It wasn’t just that Anith told her, piteously, that her stomach hurt- it was that Caffera could feel it, in much the same way she had once been able to feel C’Len’s strongest emotions.  Fortunately she was soon provided with a huge bowl of raw meat to stuff down her ravenous dragonet’s maw.

“Not too fast now, Caffera- she may think she can eat it that quickly, but honest she can’t,” said C’Len, who had somehow appeared by her elbow, grinning like a fool.  “She’ll choke herself, the silly thing.  They all try to in these first few hours.”

“Do you hear that, my beautiful one?  You must slow down.”

But I’m hungry, Anith said plaintively, and the sincerity of her voice made tears prick Caffera’s eyes.

“I know, love.  But slow and steady, we’ll fill your stomach without doing any harm to you.  I promise I won’t ever let any harm come to you.”

Nor I you, said Anith, looking up at Caffera with eyes of deepest indigo.  I love you.

“And I love you,” said Caffera, and kissed the dragonet between the tiny nubs on her skull.

Thus began a time in Caffera’s life that was a strange combination of absolutely exhausting and soul-restoringly peaceful.  Tending to the needs of a rapidly-growing dragon took up all of her time and energy, but she’d never been so whole-heartedly happy to devote all of herself to another being.  Everything about Anith was delightful to Caffera: the suede-like softness of her hide, shimmering from yellow-green to green-blue as Caffera oiled her; the way the sun lit the thin membranes of her wing sails, glowing and fluttering like leaves in a summer breeze; the sinuous arc of her neck and the dextrous curve of her claws; her perfectly spaced neck ridges and her elegantly proportioned head; the warm and ever-present comfort of her voice in Caffera’s head.  How anyone thought golds were lovelier was beyond Caffera- her dragon was quick and lithe and delicate, making the larger dragons look downright ponderous in comparison.

Greens, being smaller, reached their adult size more rapidly than any of the other colors, and before eighteen months had passed Caffera and Anith were given leave to begin flying lessons.  Caffera had once thought that nothing could be better than being alone on a cliffside, looking out across the great plains of Keroon.  But then she learned what it was to see all of Pern spreading out beneath her and her dragon, hanging in the skies like a lost star, and she knew that never again would she be content with mere climbing.

The first time the two of them flew Thread was the last time Caffera used the name her parents had given her.  By the end of the day her name had been slurred so many different ways that she eventually put her foot down and claimed “C’Fra” as her own, if only to get some consistency to what people were yelling at her.

I like it, said Anith as they curled up in their wery that night.  It is much less silly than insisting people enunciate a long name.  This last opinion was given with a little mental sniff that told C’Fra exactly what her dragon thought of queens and their self-importance.  C’Fra couldn’t help but grin.

No one would ever accuse us of standing on ceremony, my pet, she said, and reached out to massage the ridges over her dragon’s glowing eyes.

It was true.  By and large C’Fra had a favorable reputation throughout the weyr, as a team willing to take on less desirable- but necessary- jobs, just to make sure they didn’t get left undone.

“It has to be someone,” she’d say with a shrug.  “May as well be someone who will do it right the first time.”  That being said, she wasn’t universally loved, either.  She’d gotten into a few wrestling matches with boys who thought that her being a mere green rider gave them some sort of authority over her.  C’Fra would never be as tall as her twin, but she was strong from years of wrangling herdbeasts and climbing rocks, and those boys soon learned that just because she was willing to work didn’t mean she was at all submissive.  They’d clung to their resentment, but C’Fra hoped that after today they would soon begin to see her as just another rider.

Who cares what they think? Anith said, eyes showing a tendril of yellow annoyance.  None of their dragons are so quick and clever as I am.

That’s not fair, Anith, C’Fra teased. None of the other dragons are so quick and clever as you!

Yes, well, Anith’s voice was exceptionally pleased, and her eyes had returned to a nice mellow blue-green. You are very kind to say so, but surely there must be one or two of the more mature dragons that can at least match me.

C’Fra laughed and gave the green neck an affectionate slap.  But the idea gave her pause.  Who, of the dragons in Igen Weyr, could match Anith, when it came to a mating flight?  Who would she want to match Anith?  No one sprang immediately to mind, and C’Fra realized she had best make the decision before it was made for her- after all, Anith was certainly old enough to rise.

C’Fra had kissed a few of the other weyrlings over the past two years, but felt no special attachment for any of them.  Perhaps she should turn her eyes to some of the older riders?  But she didn’t know them well enough to speculate on who might be to her tastes.  Some of them were handsome enough, certainly, but she had enough Holder in her still to want someone whom she enjoyed for more than just looks.

You could always ask C’Len who he thinks might suit, said Anith carelessly.  He and Tadith have been flying with the others for much longer, after all.

Don’t you have an opinion of your own?  C’Fra asked, amused.

They are not interesting to me in that way yet, her dragon gave the equivalent of a shrug, and C’Fra felt relieved that apparently she had at least a little time to assess the playing field.

Dragonlove 06

Caffera’s fifteenth naming day came and went in the dark of winter, but no one came to collect her.

“It was just me being silly, of course,” she said to the herdbeast she was shearing.  The beast let out a bleat, but did not otherwise protest its ludicrous positioning.  “I don’t know why I got it in my head that the moment I finished my fifteenth turn, a dragon would appear and whisk me off to Igen Weyr.  Of course no one will get me until there’s actually a queen egg to stand candidate for.”

She tried not to let impatience color her thoughts, but it was difficult.  She had waited so long to be of age- and now it seemed she must wait longer still.

“You’d think,” she muttered as carefully clipped around the beast’s neck, “that C’Len might at least drop a hint as to when they expect the next queen to rise.”

“They may not know,” said Errol from the doorway, another beast slung casually across his broad shoulders.  “From what I understand, queen dragons don’t rise on a set schedule.  But they do tend to average at least one mating every two turns during a Pass- more frequently near the middle than the beginning or end.  So don’t fret, my daughter- I’m sure one of the Igen queens will clutch sooner rather than later, and you’ll be free of Hold drudgery.”

Caffera’s face colored at having been caught grousing.  “I didn’t mean it that way-”

Errol laughed and nudged her affectionately with his knee.  “I know you didn’t, Caffy.  It’s not easy to know what you want, but not be able to do anything to work towards it.  We’re not a people that do well with not doing in this family.”

Caffera let out a heavy sigh.  “I think that’s it, exactly.  I just feel… useless.  C’Len is off doing what he’s supposed to do, protecting Pern, and here I am…” she trailed off, not knowing how to express herself without giving offense.

“Here you are, being a great help to your old father,” said Errol kindly.  “And setting an excellent example to your younger siblings that, just because you can’t be doing what you really want to do, doesn’t mean you don’t go ahead and do what needs to be done in the meantime.”

Caffera colored again, and shook her head.  “You make me sound a great deal more virtuous than I feel.”

“A father’s prerogative.  Now, what say we trade off beasts, eh?”

It was nearing summer solstice when at last Tadith and C’Len appeared above the Hold again.  Caffera felt them before she saw them, and it took every ounce of her self-control not to drop the clean laundry she was carrying, and take off running for the courtyard.

Caffera!  Tadith’s voice was joyful in her mind.  Ionath has clutched!  Twenty-seven eggs, and one of them a queen!

That’s wonderful, Tadith!  Please tell C’Len I’ll be there as soon as I finish this.

He is very excited, Tadith confided.  We got special permission to collect you ourselves.  You’ll stay with us, if you want.  Our weyr is very nice, he added in an anxious voice. It opens to the west, so my couch stays wonderfully warm in the afternoon.

Caffera laughed.  At last she was to be a dragonrider!

As it turned out, there was still more waiting to be done at Igen Weyr- the eggs were still hardening, and would not hatch for several more weeks.  But since the waiting weeks were spent primarily in C’Len’s company- when he was not flying Thread- Caffera didn’t mind so much.  And, of course, there was the entire Weyr to explore, and the eggs themselves to admire and handle.  Not that Caffera was encouraged to handle any egg but the queen- but there were eight other hopeful candidates waiting to caress the giant gold orb at any given moment, and more often than not Caffera ended up talking to the inhabitant of whatever egg she ended up closest to.  Perhaps it was because she was the sister of a brown rider, but none of the boys challenged her right to pet any egg she chose.  Besides, she reasoned to herself that if she did end up a queen rider, she would need to be on good terms with all the dragons.

When C’Len and Tadith were flying Thread, Caffera spent time with Ionath’s rider, an extremely talkative young woman by the name of Linnin.  Linnin was newly pregnant, and inclined to mother anyone who would hold still long enough for it.  She was exceedingly kind to Caffera, telling her all of the responsibilities she could expect to take on if she did indeed Impress and become the most junior queen rider, and letting her know how highly they weyr thought of her brother.  “Of course C’Len is very sweet,” she said as the two of them soaked in the communal baths, “And has the makings of a fine wing-second, someday, so we have been very excited to meet his twin.  It must have been very hard for you, to be apart for so many turns.  I know it’s normal in the weyrs for siblings to be raised apart, but I’m holder-bred, like you, and I’ve missed my siblings terribly.  It’s just too bad C’Len will have to go to a different weyr once you Impress-”

“What?”  Caffera laid a hand on Linnin’s arm to halt the flow of chatter.  “Why should he do that?”

“Well, because… well, did anyone explain to you what happens when a queen rises?”

“Yes, of course,” Caffera said dismissively.  “But Tadith is a brown.  I thought only the bronzes flew queens.”

“Well normally yes,” Linnin said carefully, “I mean, usually.  But there are a few exceptions here and there, and we wouldn’t want to take the chance, you know.  Often times a queen will let herself be caught by the male she likes the best- or by the male who is ridden by the man her rider likes the best… I suspect that’s why Skyth caught Ionath so handily- D’Lan and I are weyrmates.  And it seems not unlikely that, with you and C’Len already being so close…” she trailed off and gave a little shrug.  “Better safe than sorry.”

Caffera closed her eyes, caught between laughing and crying.  Is that true, Tadith?

You like C’Len the best, he said, voice puzzled.  Why shouldn’t your dragon like me the best?  Why is that wrong?  Ionath and Skyth are siblings from different clutches.  Is it because you and C’Len are from the same clutch?

Ask C’Len.  Caffera sighed and opened her eyes.  Linnin was looking at her worriedly.

“Tadith doesn’t understand why human siblings mating is any different than dragon siblings mating.  I told him to ask C’Len.  Which was perhaps mean of me.”

Linnin gave her a half-grin and a reassuring pat.  “Well, being a dragonrider does come with responsibilities, after all.”

Years later, Caffera could never clearly remember the events leading up to Impression.  There were a few moments frozen in her memory- the way the dragons’ humming reverberated in her bones; the rising heat from the sand turning the watching crowd into a shimmering mirage; Caffera’s white robes twisting akwardly between her legs as she tried to walk with a dignity befitting her candidacy- many small moments, but no cohesive narrative.  Not until the moment she was standing in a loose circle with the other girls, staring at the great golden egg rocking on its mound.  All around them was the chaos of Impression between boys and and their dragons- young voices crying out in pain or joy, or creeling in hunger.  Suddenly a crack appeared in the golden shell- and Caffera was knocked to her hands and knees by a blow from behind.

“Ow!” she said, and turned to glare at whichever boy had been clumsy enough to stagger into her at this pivotal moment.

But it was not a boy.

It was an awkward green dragonet, and in that moment their eyes met- and at last Caffera, too, knew what it was to be whole.

Dragonlove 05

It was almost two full Turns before Caffera saw her twin again, but when the brown dragon appeared suddenly over the cliffs above their Hold, she knew instantly who it was.

Hello Caffera, the voice, so like C'Len’s, was almost shy, and Caffera had the sudden sense that her twin’s dragon had been every bit as anxious about meeting her, as she had been about meeting him.

Hello Tadith, she responded, trying to put as much loving welcome into her mental voice as she’d put into her speaking voice, were it C'Len himself greeting her.  Carefully she placed her feet into a pair of pockets on the rock face, and settled her weight comfortably before swiveling her torso to better see the new arrivals.  She and the hovering dragon were of an eye-level, and he was so close she could smell the sweet spiciness of his hide.

C'Len is very worried about you, being so high, said Tadith.  Would you like a ride down to the ground?

Caffera almost made a sarcastic remark about not being the only one up so high, but she thought better of it.

If you’re sure you don’t mind, Tadith.

It would make C'Len happy, he said, simply.

And so Caffera found herself being oh-so-carefully plucked off the cliff by a dragon.

As gentle as Tadith was, being carried in dragon talons was still not what Caffera would have categorized as “comfortable”, and as he set her on her feet in the courtyard she knew she’d bear the marks of her little adventure tomorrow.  But then C’Len was sliding down to the ground and throwing his arms around her.

“Caffera!  Caffera!  I’ve missed you so much!”  C’Len’s voice was muffled in her hair, and Caffera suddenly realized that although she’d gained half a head in height since their last parting, C’Len had added at least that much again- perhaps more.

“What do they feed you up there?” she demanded, tilting her gaze up to meet his, and C’Len laughed.

“Everything!  The Holds tithe only their best to the Weyr, you know.”

And he makes certain he gets his fair share, Tadith added, amusement coloring his voice.

Caffera laughed, and C’Len’s face broke into a relieved grin.

“I’m so glad you can hear him, too.  I worried- well, I shouldn’t have worried.  Of course you can hear him!  I’m so glad the two most important people in my life have finally met!”

Caffera felt her smile falter, but she did her best to recover it, not wanting to spoil the moment.  C’Len was still the most important person in her life, for all that she hadn’t seen him in so long- but she knew she’d been irrevocably replaced in his heart.

Not replaced, said Tadith.  What he and I have- it is a different kind of love, from what you and he have.  He thinks of you all the time- he misses you.  He misses you so much it made me miss you, and I’d never met you.

Well I’m sorry for that, Caffera told him.  I don’t know that I can live up to what he’s been telling you.

“What are you two talking about so seriously?” C’Len asked, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“You can’t hear us?” Caffera didn’t have to feign surprise.

“Apparently not,” C’Len said.  Tadith stretched his head out to nuzzle his rider’s shoulder, and C’Len’s face softened.  “Oh.  He says you think I’ve made too much of you.  Well I haven’t, I promise you.  You’re extremely loveable.”

Before Caffera could summon a response to this, the younger siblings had broken free of whatever small restraint Jallica had lain on them, and came shrieking into the courtyard.

“C’Len! C’Len! C’Len!”

“Mother said we had to let you greet Caffera first-”

“C’Len!  C’Len!”

“-but you’ve had enough time right?”

“Now will you let us meet your dragon?”

“C’Len!”

“We’re supposed to respect your dignity-”

“You got so tall!”

“Your dragon smells good!”

C’Len laughed at the cacophony, and tossed the littlest ones into the air.

“Tadith smells good because he had a bath before we came, in honor of our first trip home.  I didn’t want Mother to scold us for being slovenly.”

“Mother wouldn’t scold a dragon!” said one of the children, but there was doubt in her voice.

“I expect your mother would scold anyone who deserved it,” said Errol, approaching the boisterous crowd with caution, his arms full of a squirming infant.  “How long can you stay, son?”

“I’ve leave to stay overnight,” C’Len made a face at the baby, who rewarded him with a two-toothed grin.  “And who is this charmer?” he asked.

“This,” said Jallica, embracing her son and then moving to take the baby from her husband, “Is Lorrel, born this past autumn.  She is very pleased to meet her dragonrider brother, I’m sure, but perhaps we should move inside out of the cold?”

Later that night, when the littles had worn themselves out with excitement, and their parents had retreated to their own bedroom, Caffera and C’Len sat together talking beneath the stars, their backs again Tadith for warmth.

“Mother has been adamant that I learn everything there is learn about running a Hold,” Caffera said in disgust.  “And the more I learn, the less I want anything resembling that level of authority.  All those people looking to you?  Ugh.  I’d much rather not be responsible for anything beyond myself.”

“You will be, tho’,” C’Len said.  “Queen riders have enormous amounts of responsibility within the weyr, especially the senior riders who become Weyrwomen.”

Caffera made a dismissive gesture with her hands.  “If I Impress.”

C’Len looked alarmed.  “Of course you’ll Impress!  You have to!”  Tadith gave a low rumble of support, and Caffera smiled.

“I appreciate your faith, both of you, but… I mean it’s a bit of a numbers game, isn’t it?  It’s not like if I was a boy, and there were lots of eggs to choose from.  I only get to stand if there’s a gold egg, and even then it’s me and what- six, ten? Anyway a bunch of other girls.”

C’Len shook his head adamantly.  “If Slioth thinks you’ll Impress, you’ll Impress.  The weyrling master says he’s never yet brought someone back from Search who didn’t, even if they had to stand on the stands twice.  And anyway I heard that girls are starting to Impress greens- not that I don’t think you’ll impress a gold, of course!” he added hastily.

“Hmm,” Caffera said, noncommittally.  Then, “So… what’s it like?”

“What?”

“Impression?”  her voice was shy, slightly embarrassed, as if she wasn’t sure she should be asking something so intimate.

“It’s…” he trailed off.  “It’s like nothing I can easily explain.  Like you know how when you have a headache, and it feels so good when the pain is finally gone, and you realize that you didn’t even realize how much you were hurting until it stops?  It was like… like I didn’t realize that I wasn’t complete, until suddenly I was.  I didn’t realize there was a… a hole in my heart, until Tadith filled it, perfectly.  It sounds silly-”

“It sounds wonderful,” Caffera said, sincerely, trying to fight down her jealousy.  She wasn’t sure if she was more jealous of C’Len for having found such peace, or of Tadith for providing what she couldn’t.  C’Len reached out and squeezed her fingers.

“I still love you,” he whispered, and she realized he’d been feeling her emotions.

“I know,” she said, sadly.

And I love you, too, said Tadith.  But soon you will have a dragon of you own, and then you will be as whole and happy as C’Len is, and that will make him happier still.

Caffera gave a watery laugh.  “Let us hope so, Tadith. Think how embarrassing it would be for Slioth to be wrong.”