At every feeding check your dragon
For the softness of her hide
Concentrating, track your fingers
Over belly, joint and wing
Learn to recognise discomfort
Don't neglect the slightest thing
Itchy hide will flake untended
Oil it well to see it mended
At every feeding check your dragon
For the softness of her hide
Weyrling dragons grow with speed
And every part is prone to stretches
When your dragon has matured
Tend to where her body flexes
Flaky hide will crack untended
Oil it well to see it mended
At every feeding check your dragon
For the softness of her hide
Even when the hide is supple
Should your touch elicit twitches
Oil and massage long and well,
Actively preventing itches.
Cracking hide when left untended
Causes harm that can't be mended
Cold between will scar the tissue
Normal flight becomes an issue
Injury will follow fast
Such a flight may be your last
Check your dragon's hide with care
Oil it, oil it, everywhere.
Late afternoon, 17.11.34
Ista Weyr
Rahnis watched the two Weyrleaders leave, and waited a good minute to be sure they weren't coming back again before moving. She tucked the mop back under one arm, and reached down for the bucket with the other, but either someone had filled it with rocks while she hadn't been watching, or her strength had deserted her. She choked back a laugh, and tried again.
Dear Rahnis, don't let them worry you! Across the sands, Alaireth had abandoned her pretence of sleep and had begun to turn her eggs, pausing only to be certain that her rider wasn't too flustered. You told me it might be us they'd choose.
Oh yes, I know. But I still don't understand! Why didn't they pick Serreni and Minith?
I don't know. If they said anything, it was elsewhere, or before I woke.
Bless the dragon for taking things so literally! "No matter. We learned more than enough as it is." Too much. She'd have to speak to M'ton soon, and maybe F'ren too. He deserved to hear what she'd learned, and maybe he could help her decide how much to tell M'ton. Because, while she wanted to tell him everything, she had a feeling that some of it he simply wouldn't hear. Where to start? Following the ache in her arms, Rahnis let her eyes drop down to the bucket. Well, that was the obvious choice, wasn't it?
"Anyway, now that I've lugged this oil all the way over from the Weyrling Barracks, we may as well make use of it."
Yes, please. There's a patch on my belly that's a little drier than I'd like.
Rahnis placed the bucket of oil beside her dragon and stared, smiling, into the nearest of Alaireth's whirling eyes. Seemingly all at once, all her worries melted away, nothing else mattering except the shared contact between dragon and rider. If she thought about it, she could sense the gentle mental pressure pulling her inwards...but that was an easy thought to resist. Worries could wait.
Of course they can. Alaireth blinked her inner eyelids, and lay down on the sands, lifting her wings far enough out of the way to allow her to roll onto her side. Other riders might oil their dragons' bellies from standing, but trying that with a gold would leave you with oil running down your front, back, through your hair and into your eyes. Every weyrwoman had her own technique, but this was the one Alaireth preferred.
The goldrider pulled a soft brush from out of her pocket, and deftly brushed the loose sand from the Hatching Cavern floor away from Alaireth's belly. She ran her fingers along her dragon's hide, concentrating on the sensations felt by the dragon. The skin was still rather stretched from Alaireth's recent clutch, though it was tightening up nicely again, and yes, that was the driest area, there. Rahnis stepped back to the bucket of oil, dunked in the mop, and carried it, dripping, back to the gold. Getting the oil on your dragon was quick work with a mop; it was getting it rubbed in that was the time-consuming part! Setting the mop aside again, she flexed her fingers and slowly began working the oil into Alaireth's hide with light, steady circling motions of her hands. She was soon humming tunelessly along with the soothing rhythm, the time passing almost unnoticed while Alaireth filled her head with visions of cloudscapes and sea-scenes, memories of all the calm moments they'd shared that the dragon had dredged up from out of her rider's mind.
There. That's better. Now come and sit down, and we'll work things out.
Rahnis stepped back quickly to let Alaireth change position, then settled down between her dragon's forelegs. I feel much better now. Thank you.
That was the idea.
I know, dearest. Now, what was the first thing you remember hearing?
They were discussing my clutches, and why I must fly low. That Ista doesn't need more Weyrlings.
There was an undercurrent of uncertainty in Alaireth's mental voice, and it almost broke Rahnis' heart to hear it. They shouldn't have to control themselves this way, but this was the price they had to pay, being a weyrmated junior pair. And it was true, Ista was overpopulated. And it was also true, Rahnis knew, that Alaireth was only doing it for her, that she yearned to throw aside all of Ista's restrictions. She stifled the thought quickly - when both dragon and rider were willing to do anything for each other's sake, awareness of unbalanced debts could be needlessly upsetting. And if they were moving north to the High Reaches, at least that would be one problem they'd be leaving behind. Ista doesn't need more Weyrlings, but I think the High Reaches does.
Then that must be why they chose us!
Rahnis laughed with delight at her dragon's mocking mental tone. Oh, if only it were that simple. And what did they say after that?
The gold thought for a moment before answering. No, that was all they said before Ormaith's rider told how Trath came to be here that day. And I told you all of that, and you heard the rest yourself.
"So I did. But what do you think of it all?"
I think you will be glad to leave Ista.
Leaning back against the gold, Rahnis sighed. Glad to leave Vallenka, but I don't know that Sh'vek's High Reaches'll be any better. She had friends here, a home, a life, a weyrmate. M'ton and Narnoth could transfer with them, true, but she'd heard the rest as well. Vallenka could...could what? And what had Sh'vek meant by telling the Weyrwoman that he could deal with M'ton himself, only to then turn right around and offer her a transfer for him as Wingleader? Rahnis had a good idea that F'ren would know what they could expect; yet another reason to ask Alaireth to bespeak Trath. But, Vallenka's other comments still niggled at the corner of her mind. What did F'ren think of her? She'd only seen him twice since that day, and he'd kept himself distant on both occasions. What about M'ton and Narnoth?
I'd like them to come with us, and you'd like them to come with us, and when we tell them the news, they'll want to come with us too. But you're worried for them, aren't you?
"Yes," Rahnis whispered.
We make good decisions together, but it would be unfair to make this one without them. I've spoken to Narnoth. Their Wing has finished their drill, and M'ton is washing, but he'll join us in a few minutes.
Thank you, dearest.
It wasn't long before a figure appeared silhouetted in the entrance to the hatching cavern. M'ton hurried across the sands towards her. His deeply tanned skin was still beaded with moisture from his bath, and his half-open shirt clung to his back and shoulders. "Narnoth said it was important, but not what, or why? It's not the eggs, is it, love?"
She shook her head, and a smile of relief broke across her weyrmate's face. He circled his arms around her waist, and she tilted her head up to meet his lips.
"Mmm. What is it then?" he asked.
His dark eyes were twinkling, probably with the expectation of a covert tryst, Rahnis decided, and though it was a rather tempting prospect, she really couldn't keep the news from him any longer. "I'm being transferred. To the High Reaches."
M'ton's face fell. "I was sure it'd be Serreni. So were you, weren't you?"
"I know, I know. Apparently...not."
"Was it N'essen who broke the news, or Vallenka?"
"Weyrleader Sh'vek, actually."
"Sh'vek? He came here?"
"Yes."
M'ton let her go, and scratched at his earlobe, thoughtful. "And he's still here?"
"I expect so. He went with Vallenka to eat lunch in the Lower Caver- Wait! Where are you going?"
Bemused, Rahnis watched her lover slow down and turn to face her almost halfway back to the Weyrbowl. "I can still catch him, ask for a transfer!" he shouted, still jogging backwards. "He's bound to take me on if I tell him I'll settle for Wingsecond. Shells, I'd go as a mere wingrider. He can't deny me a transfer then!"
"M'ton, no! You don't need to!"
He stopped properly this time, and walked slowly back to her. "I don't?"
"No." Rahnis shook her head and smiled apologetically at him. "Sh'vek's offering you a Wing."
The bronzerider grunted a surprised laugh, and kissed her again. "He is? Shells, woman, why in Faranth's name were you looking so upset, then?"
"Because..." Rahnis's words trickled away, unspoken, as she realised how ridiculous the whole thing sounded. That even though she was being transferred as a junior queen – and that must be the reason Serreni wasn't going, because Vallenka surely wouldn't let her favourite moulder as a powerless junior – that even despite that, because there was a small chance she might end up as Weyrwoman to the High Reaches...what, exactly? Sh'vek would somehow try to split them up, just in case? Or Vallenka would act first, just on the off-chance that it might be useful to her brother? No. She decided to tell him the rest of what she'd heard.
"When F'ren-"
M'ton interrupted her before she could finish speaking. "F'ren? You're afraid he'll send his dragon after Alaireth again?"
She grimaced. Yes, she suspected he might, but that egg wouldn't hatch until another day, another time, a long way from Ista. "That, too, I suppose," she said with a sigh. "But Alaireth heard them talking before I arrived. M'ton, Vallenka asked Sh'vek to send him. To hurt me. Us."
M'ton shook his head. "I still don't understand how Alaireth let him do it – or why you spent so long with him afterwards – but you told me yourself he was sent here on Sh'vek's whim, that it was all just a bad coincidence of timing." He looked away for a while, then back at her again. "There's nothing you're not telling me, is there? I know a lot of women would-"
"Of course not! Nothing like that."
"What, then? Because right now, you don't seem at all pleased that we'll be leaving together, love."
The trouble with dragonriders was that they were always too damned intuitive; that, or just not quite intuitive enough. Rahnis often thought that the weyrbred were worst in this, so accustomed to everyone jumping to the right conclusions that they forgot about the significance of all the steps in between. "They were talking about other things too. About you. M'ton...I love you, M'ton, and I don't want to lose you..."
"You're worried about losing me?"
"Yes," she said.
He squeezed her shoulders reassuringly, sighed, and bent his head slightly to kiss her forehead. "I know you and Vallenka have never really got along, but the look on your face...you'd think they were planning to roast my balls for breakfast, or something. You worry too much. There's nothing that'd stop me following you, not to the High Reaches, or even round the whole world and back again."
Rahnis laughed softly, feeling an echo of the same thought reaching her from Narnoth, and knowing that both rider and dragon meant it. "And when we get there?"
"Sh'vek's offered me a Wing, you say. He'd hardly do that if he-"
"F'ren had a wing."
"Had, dear, had. Leave the man to fester in his own mistakes." M'ton gestured expansively to the north, then thumbed his chest in emphasis. "There's nothing there that I'm like to duplicate. You're the only woman for me, you know that. And if it's Alaireth's flights that worry you...I made a mistake, blaming you, I know that. Should've known it back then, too. You know Narnoth'll fly his heart out for you."
"Of course I do," she said.
M'ton smiled lovingly at her, and she felt her worries begin to melt away again.
"And if he can't... Well, I don't have to like the thought of it, but I won't let it get in the way, not again. Trust me."
Rahnis nodded. He was right, she supposed. Really, it was incredibly unlikely that she'd ever make senior at the High Reaches, so things would be no different to here in Ista at all. Sh'vek wouldn't need to... whatever. Let him and the Weyrwoman waste time worrying about it, because it didn't need to matter at all, not if she chose not to let it! And she would.
We will, Alaireth echoed. Narnoth and M'ton too.
M'ton pulled her closer, his voice prodding her out of her thoughts again. "Besides, I doubt their bronzeriders are any different to the ones down here. All arrogant swagger, chasing skirts at the holds whenever they're not bragging to their wingmates, and never seeing the uncut diamond right under their noses."
She rolled her eyes and pulled a face. This was such an old joke between them, but it meant a lot to her, that he saw so much in her. "You idiot. I just don't look at them the way I do you." She batted her eyelids in mock allure, and he growled and kissed her again, tumbling her onto the sand.
Rahnis shrieked in laughter as the world up-ended. She caught a brief glimpse of Alaireth's whirling blue eyes and then the cavern's ceiling before she found M'ton's face again. The sand was blistering hot beneath her thin clothes and she grimaced, though without really caring.
"Sorry." M'ton tugged her to one side, and soon he was beneath her, braving the sand's heat as stoically as he could. A steady trickle of fine grains was raining down on him from her hair and clothes, and before he could help himself, he sneezed. "Argh. This doesn't really work, does it?" Ignoring her giggles, M'ton hauled Rahnis upright again, and kissed her on the nose. "You've got sand in your clothes," he whispered, cheeks dimpling as he smiled.
"Well, there's only one thing we can do about that," Rahnis murmured back. She took one last look towards the bowl, and saw Narnoth already silhouetted in the cavern's entrance. For a while at least she and her weyrmate could share their happiness undisturbed.
AN: Quite a short chapter, I'm afraid - I was 200k into the story when I made the call to give each POV its own chapter instead of combining them. This segment was originally bundled in with chapter 3. On the plus side, splitting the chapters DID give me an excuse for writing more Pernese-style verses (well, my interpretation of them, anyway). What do you all make of them as chapter openers? Good, gimmicky, or so bad that any Harper worth her knots would stake me out for thread?
If you have any thoughts on the story, the characters, or predictions for where it's going to go - any thoughts at all! - I'd really love to hear them.
Next chapter will go up on AO3 this weekend, and will follow here at FFN within the week.