This chapter reflects scenes from Ann McCaffrey's "Dragonquest" novel.

Chapter Six

"Wake"

Abruptly T'gellan sat up, "Why? What? Monarth! It' still dark!"

"Mirrim needs to go to the kitchens."

T'gellan shook his head then realized he was not alone in his bed. In a rush, memories from the night before descended upon him. He patted the warm companion in his bed and smiled. He had never had a woman stay until morning in his weyr before. He lay back against her and folded her into his arms. "Mirrim, we need to get up."

The drowsy form shrugged, stretched against him then suddenly stiffened. T'gellan laughed aloud. He was certain that she usually woke alone too. "Monarth says you are needed in the kitchens."

"T'gellan?" she said groggily, "Are they hatching?" In the darkness he could hear her fumbling then bright light invaded the room. He had never thought to put the glow basket next to the bed. He'd simply grope around for the wall sconce. Besides, he was not accustomed to being awake before light showed around the curtain. Mirrim rose, pulling the fur with her. T'gellan had no such modesty as he bounded over her to the hooks and began dressing. When he finished he turned to her. She was lacing the bodice over her tunic. Then she slipped on her skirt.

"Where's my comb?" she asked as she pulled out the plaits of her braid. T'gellan spotted it on the floor and brought it to her. As she reached to take it he pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head.

"It's too bad we don't have time to take another soak before facing today, eh?"

"Oh if only there was time," she said stepping away as she twirled her hair up and deftly poked it with the comb.

"Tonight then? Take another soak with me tonight?" A tremor went through the walls of the weyr. "Ramoth!" T'gellan said, "You called it; hatching's today".

As he took her elbow to escort her to his dragon, Mirrim suddenly reached for him and hugged him fiercely. T'gellan gladly hugged her back. He waited to see if she'd cry again. Instead she sighed mightily and said, "That was the best sleep I got since Southern."

He could hear nothing but her breathing which seemed labored. He loosened his grip as he felt her look up. "I'm so scared, T'gellan. I've tried to anticipate this day and now it's here."

"We've both got plenty of work to do before eggs start cracking. We'll keep busy until," he shrugged, "… come what may. Do you want me to come for you when it starts?"

"No, I'll be with Brekke and F'nor by then. But, take Menolly. She's never been to a hatching."

They walked arm in arm through the curtain. T'gellan instinctively grabbing the riding straps as they exited. Monarth was already on the lip. Two slowly swirling yellow eyes turned to them. T'gellan moved about his dragon, fitting the straps while Mirrim stepped to the edge facing east where the sky was lightening from deep purple to indigo.

"C'mon," T'gellan called from his dragon. Mirrim stepped to him taking his hand and sitting behind him. Monarth raised his wings then lifted before swooping to the bowl's floor. They both dismounted quickly. T'gellan made for the breakfast hearth while Mirrim ran to the back kitchens.

N'ton sat at one of the tables where Willa was placing cups and a pot of klah. She had just finished pouring him a cup when she spied T'gellan approaching. She grinned widely as she filled another cup and pressed it to him. He tried to ignore her but he reddened as he sat opposite N'ton.

N'ton looked up briefly then smiled, "Ah, up already!"

"I thought you were re-assigned to Fort," answered T'gellan as he sat opposite his former Wingleader.

"I'm assigning riders to pick up guests. F'lar wants to make it a big to-do. F'nor's a bit occupied and I was …available. Do you have any preference of Hall or Craft?"

"Anybody but the Farmcraft." He replied taking a sip of the hot klah.

Mirrim walked purposely toward the kitchen. Manora, looking haggard and overtired, approached her with uncharacteristic concern. "Where have you been? Hatching's today. I need to get up to F'nor and Brekke but there's Menolly's feet to check and the baking. You were not at F'nor's weyr or your cubicle."

"I stayed with T'gellan last night."

Manora stopped, mouth agape, and then shrugged. "Wake Menolly and prepare her for the day. I will be in shortly to check her feet. Then, the two of you report to Felena." Manora walked past her shaking her head.

The morning was full of bustle. Guests arrived and were fed. The women of the caverns were too full of impression talk and skirting around Brekke's fate to gossip too much although Sanra and Felena smiled broadly at Mirrim each time they saw her. When the thrumming began, she ran to F'nor's weyr. Between the two of them they managed to wash Brekke, arrange her hair and don the traditional white flowing gown for impression. They tried to make her walk then F'nor lifted her and carried her down the back hall to the hatching grounds. Manora met them before the opening. Fear suddenly gripped Mirrim. She hung back, afraid to watch. Instead she cowered on the floor with her fingers in her ears.

T'gellan and his wingsecond, S'kel, had finished depositing the candidates and were pleased to be in the upper tiers awaiting hatching. They sat with their wing as a skin of wine was passed around. Good-natured wagering had begun for candidates; what egg and what color dragon would hatch first. T'gellan was not as dedicated a gambler as most of his companions.

S'kel turned to him and asked,"Care to lay odds on first color?" He rolled a few marks in his hand. Behind them, they heard somebody exclaim, "Five to one on her re-impressing." Both men turned to see who would make such a callous remark. The men behind them became quiet until another voice called, "What are the odds that our wingleader impressed young Mirrim?"

T'gellan guffawed among the others' laughter. S'kel punched his shoulder good-naturedly. "Shut up." Both men turned back to the drama below them.

For the first time since they parted that morning, T'gellan thought about Mirrim and wondered where she was. He wanted to speak to Manora about her but now was not the time. So much depended on Brekke and a queen that was about to hatch. With renewed interest he leaned forward and waited in the sudden hush with the rest of the crowd.

It was early evening and well into the festivities before T'gellan had glimpsed Mirrim. She was in deep conversation with Menolly by the same back hearth as the night before. As he was making his way through the revelers to them, Lessa detained him.

"Here is the list of the fire lizard eggs' recipients," she said, passing a scroll to him. He opened it up, immediately recognizing F'lar's meticulous scrawl. "Will you help the girls distribute them?"

"Of course," he agreed with a smile but by the time he looked to the back hearth, Mirrim was gone. He needed to apologize to Menolly anyway for not returning to her after the impression but wingleaders were called to quick council over the boy Lord of Ruatha impressing a white dragon. T'gellan shook his head and proceeded. With Brekke recovering, there was plenty of time for his plans with Mirrim.

It was very late when he returned from yet the strangest twist to the day. Menolly and her nine fire lizards had left with Master Robinton for the Harper Hall. He had deposited them just outside the square at Fort Hold in the late afternoon of the west. Mirrim would miss her. Monarth landed on the lip of their weyr. T'gellan thought to him, "I wanted to go to the bowl."

"She sleeps," was Monarth's reply.

T'gellan removed the straps and hung them absently on their hook in the dark room. He stripped down and crawled beneath the furs. As he nestled in, he breathed her scent from where she slept the night before. With a sigh he rolled over and dropped off to sleep.

In the lower caverns, Mirrim tossed on her cot so much that her fire lizards had left. Brekke would live. She would need care for several sevendays. Mirrim had watched Monarth leap to the air with the Masterharper and Menolly when she had returned to apologize. She decided that as much as she'd like to wait for T'gellan's return, she was better off sleeping with only herself this night. They hadn't so much as looked at each other since leaving his weyr that morning. Too many weyrfolk smiled at her knowingly today. It bothered her. She knew exactly when Monarth and T'gellan returned. "I'm sleeping," she thought to the dragon but it evaded her until deep into the night.

Thread was expected mid-afternoon over Bitra. T'gellan was early to the hall fully dressed for fall. Mirrim was carrying a bowl of meat scraps and a pot of Klah. She deposited the pot at the head of an empty table already set with mugs. He met her by the usual feeding place but only her three were present. Tolly flew to his forearm rubbing his head under T'gellan's chin a few times before accepting a morsel.

"What a hatching," he said to break the silence.

Mirrim turned to him with a brief smile. "She's going to live. I think F'nor and Manora are still sleeping themselves out".

"Did you hear about Menolly?"

"I saw you taking her and the Masterharper away late last night. He thought her singing that good or does he covet her singing fire lizards?" Mirrim shook her head. "I was looking forward to a girl my age, for a friend."

"Menolly is the missing apprentice that harpers have been looking for this last Turn. She was excited to go but you two didn't get the chance to say good bye to each other."

Mirrim shrugged. "Perhaps I'll send Reppa with a note after she settles in." Mirrim picked up the bowl and turned to go. T'gellan held her arm. As the two gazed into each other's eyes they both nodded at the same time. "Tonight," she added with the briefest of smiles then walked past the tables of gathering riders.

That evening, shortly after sharing a meal with his wing and their partners, they walked out of the dining hall holding hands. The acceptance of their gifted young leader's attachment to Mirrim seemed absolute. Monarth deposited them on the lip of his weyr then flew to the heights. Three fire lizards appeared on the lip, eyes spinning blue. "Looks like company for our soak," T'gellan remarked.

"Do you mind?" Mirrim turned to him, "I've neglected them badly the past few sevendays."

He smiled his answer as he patted her back and pushed her through to his room. "I need to soak off the firestone and ash," he said as he pulled the curtain aside. Two green and one brown streak shot through and dove into the warm waters. He kicked off his boots and followed them. She trailed him into the bath chamber watching him struggle to pull his tunic over his head.

"Is your shoulder bothering you?" she asked as she came behind him to help. "Hold still."

"I can get my own shirt off." He replied as he tried to step away.

"Hold STILL. What did you do to your neck?"

T'gellan paused. "How can you tell?"

"Really?" Mirrim replied as she managed to get his head free and began tackling the ties at his wrists. "Hold still or I'll never get these untied. This would have been easier if you had untied them before pulling your shirt off."

T'gellan looked down on the crown of her head as she bent to the task. He tentatively moved his neck right and left. "Why do you say my neck?"

"Could be your shoulder. Again, what did you do?"

"Bit of a wind during fall. I wasn't ready for a drop. It doesn't feel like my neck but across my back," T'gellan rotated each shoulder until he felt a twinge in his right.

Mirrim had the tunic off. With a snap she had turned it back from inside-out and flung it over her shoulder. "Turn." He complied. She pressed under both shoulder blades with her thumbs and worked them up following the bones until they reached his neck. With light pinches along the nape of his neck and across his shoulders, her hand felt his muscles until he groaned. "Ah, there," she said and applied greater pressure. When she stopped, he rolled both shoulders again.

"Much better!" He unhooked his belt to let his pants drop and stepped into the pool. Slowly he eased himself onto his underwater bench leaning back into the rock. "Been thinking of this all day." He said after a while, closing his eyes and sinking until the water was to his chin.

She returned to his bed chamber to hang up his clothes and remove hers. Picking up the towel and glow basket she returned, closing the curtain. What little light the sconce glow had given was gone with the exception of six fire lizard eyes. She undid the latch to the basket relighting the chamber. T'gellan hadn't moved. She laid the towel on an outcrop and put the basket on the floor. She sat apart from him trying to regain the calm she had felt the last time in his pool.

T'gellan turned to look at her and smiled lazily. "My back and neck feel so much better."

Mirrim returned his smile. "Let me get behind you and I'll give your back a proper massage." He scooted forward but she didn't have enough room. He edged further forward feeling the drop off at his feet.

"Hold onto my neck," T'gellan suggested as he grabbed her legs in piggyback fashion and moved the two of them down the pool to a broader shelf where she could sit cross-legged. The fire lizards moved to their spot, splashing, crooning and chattering. Once settled behind him she kneaded his back and upper arms.

"Where did you learn to give such wonderful rubs?" T'gellan asked admiringly.

"I'm practicing to be a healer, you know. I practiced on you when you were in Southern."

T'gellan chuckled. "What you did to my arm and shoulder in Southern was torture."

She gave the affected shoulder a shove. "You have full use of it, thanks to my torture." She ran her hand from the scar in the armpit to his waist, giggling when he cringed.

"That tickles!" he complained.

"It also means that you healed with no damage. Still think of my ministrations as torture?"

"Everything about you is exquisite torture." He replied turning to pull her into his lap.

A few days later Brekke rejoined the people of the weyr. The next restday, there was a Gather at Fort. T'gellan planned to take Mirrim as she had said that she'd never been to one. He was anticipating the moment when the two of them surprised Menolly at the Harper Hall. This day, he was looking forward to sweep-ride exercises with his wing as he ambled into the hall for his breakfast. They were going to practice catching dragons dropping out of between with simulated injuries. The 'Keth Catch' the maneuver was called.

He was seated alone working the lists of his wing men when he looked up to see the still-skeletal face of Brekke seated before him. Her eyes bore into him. "I want you to leave Mirrim alone," she said, simply.

T'gellan rose in his chair to his full height. He felt resentment rise in him until Monarth spoke to his mind, "Calm", was all the advice Monarth would give.

"I will not."

"She is too young to be associating with riders, especially bronzes." She had not blinked nor broken contact with his eyes. It was unnerving.

"I am the only bronze rider she's associating with."

Brekke continued to stare into him. "Mirrim has other duties; other plans and you are hindering her," Brekke replied with the same, low, composed voice.

"CALM, CALM," Monarth bugled his advice. Several other dragons bugled back. T'gellan had grabbed the underside of the table to keep from rising. He could tell that Manora and Mirrim were approaching, concern on their faces.

Brekke leaned forward, "You satisfied your curiosity. Let her be."

"You know nothing of us if that's what you think. What do you have against me, Brekke?" his voice growled.

In almost a whisper, Brekke breathed, "Move. On."

She leaned back into her seat as both Manora and Mirrim flanked her. "Are you tired, Brekke?" Mirrim asked as she put one hand on her frail shoulder and the other on her forehead. Brekke's eyes had not left his.

Manora sat next to Brekke and rubbed an emaciated hand. She glanced between the two of them. "Mirrim, take Brekke back to the looms."

T'gellan shifted his gaze to Manora turning his head. As soon as he had looked away from those mesmerizing eyes he knew he had lost the struggle of wills. Brekke allowed herself to be guided away by her foster daughter.

"Be calm; we can wait. Mirrim waits too. "

"I don't understand," T'gellan thought back. "The entire weyr has accepted us. What possible reason could Brekke have against us? Against you?"

Manora waited until T'gellan's focus returned, indicating his internal conversation with his dragon had concluded. "T'gellan, as much as I disagree with Brekke, perhaps you and Mirrim should stay apart a while. Only until she's stronger and can think more clearly."

"I don't think I can, Manora, I've waited for her two turns already."

"Mirrim can," Manora replied, "She understands her duty to her foster mother. All I am asking you to do is wait. Wait until Brekke can see the devotion the two of you have for each other. If you have it now, you will have it in a month or two".

T'gellan glared at her but Manora rose then turned toward the work rooms. He stared across the filling hall. Shaking off the chill that shot down his back he returned to his lists.

"I love you." Monarth avowed.

"As I do you," he returned the thought.

T'gellan tried to intercept Mirrim the rest of the day but she evaded him. Finally, he waited in her cube. When she stepped behind the curtain and uncovered the glow, she was not at all surprised to see him. "You can't stay," she said as they embraced.

"I just want this moment," he replied and he rested his chin on the top of her head. "I don't understand but I will comply with your wishes".

She hugged him tighter as he rocked her back and forth, "They're hers; not mine."

"I'm not giving you up."

"Nor I."

She stifled a sob and he tried to hold her closer. He hefted a powerful sigh then pushed her back to look into her eyes. They were dry but regretful. "T'gellan, you'll have to take care of Monarth. I'll understand..." Her arms fell to her sides in a silent assent.

"You're staying at Benden. We will see each other every day. If you ever have doubts, all you have to do is look into my eyes or listen for Monarth to know this dragonman loves you. We're not that easy to forget." He dropped his arms then marched from the cube.

At the end of the hall, stood Willa, leaning against the stone wall. He stumped by her and down the stairs to where his dragon had just landed. She watched as they rose in the air and winked out. Shaking her head she paused by Mirrim's curtain. Not a peep, not a sob, not a sound.

T'gellan and Monarth had popped out of between above Half Circle Sea Hold. The night was clear and the phosphorescence of the waves caressing the shore lent a faint glow that stretched to the Dragon Stones. Monarth glided to one with the flattest top and perched. Both looked out to sea where a waning Belior was rising. They watched her rise above the horizon in silence.

Suddenly the wild fire lizards appeared in unison, agitated. They darted among the Dragon Stones, frenzied. Multiple images of the red star, closer than any image he could have imagined, invaded his mind.

"Monarth!" he called aloud. "Why are they frightened?"

Monarth alighted and flew straight up. His mind as agitated as the fire lizards. T'gellan tightened his straps as Monarth continued to climb to the higher levels where riders tended to black out. "Stop rising, level out!"

Monarth obeyed. "It is wrong, it is wrong to go to it; RAMOTH! Call them back!"

T'gellan, knowing fear was overwhelming his dragon let his training kick in. "Call my wing, call them to my mark. He concentrated on the dark masses of land and sea below him."

Monarth bellowed.

Unbidden, the thought exploded into their minds, "DON'T LEAVE ME."

They knew it was Brekke and she could only be calling to F'nor and Canth. What have they done? They had done the impossible! His wing appeared in perfect formation around them, not a rider to be seen.

"Monarth, where are they? Where are the riders?"

"No time. We go"

"Right! Straight up!" T'gellan bellowed as well as gave the signal.

As one the wing soared up to the tumbling mote high above them.