Lythena was leaning wearily against Marith’s forearm, conversing fondly with her dragon in the fading evening light. “So, my love, when do you think those precious eggs of yours are going to Hatch?” the Weyrwoman asked with a grin, looking up into her queen’s sparkling eyes. The gold dragon pondered the question for a moment.Now.
Lythena jerked straight. “NOW?! Why didn’t you tell me before?!” she demanded, pacing on the hot sand. Hush, my rider. A dragon knows what to do. I’ve already bespoken Keneth to tell his rider to summon the Candidates. Marith told her lifemate, unruffled. She raised her wedge-shaped head and began the humming which signified an imminent Hatching. Lythena sighed and climbed up to take her place in the lower tier of the stands. She closed her eyes and was borne up by the dragons’ wonderful chorus.
Opening her eyes again, the Weyrwoman smiled down at the Candidates that were filing into the Grounds. They formed a loose semicircle around the rocking eggs, nervous and excited. Marith hissed warningly at them, swinging her head around to pin each young man or woman with her fierce, whirling red gaze. Marith! Be nice. her rider chastised, grinning despite herself.
N’vin dropped into the seat beside her, giving his weyrmate a quick kiss and draping his arm casually across her shoulders before turning back to the eggs. Lythena rested her head on her Weyrleader’s shoulder and told Marith to stop fanning her wings at the Candidates. “Quite the protective queen, isn’t she?” N’vin chuckled, glancing down fondly at her. Lythena’s looking paler than usual. the bronzerider frowned slightly and started to tell his Weyrwoman, “You’re looking--” but just then the first egg cracked loudly, causing Lythena to shush him impatiently.
The crowd gasped simultaneously as a damp bronze hatchling spilled onto the sand with a bawl of protest. One of the furled wings was caught in the still-soft hindclaws, nevertheless causing the dragonet to screech. A young man ran forward to help him up. “His name is Enojoth!” M’slin announced triumphantly, tears shining in his eyes. “Good choice, that. I hear he gave Ritana that bruise on her cheek on accident. Well, she thought he was a capital lad anyway.” Lythena murmured thoughtfully as the pair headed out to the Weyrling Barracks.
Four eggs burst then, one after the other. Two greens, a blue and a brown looked blearily at each other before moving for the Candidates. To many of the spectators’ surprise, the blue followed his green sisters to the girls. “Oh Cimath love, don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you!” Demona exclaimed, hugging the young blue tightly and leading him out of the Sands.
Meanwhile, the two greens had made their selections. “She says her name is Caballoth!” Guenna called, stroking her green’s eyeridges. “That Caballoth’s darn big for a green, wouldn’t you say?” the Weyrwoman commented with a smile, just as Petzel’s announcement reached her ears. “Her name is Zaith!”
The brown was still pacing slowly in front of the boys, looking carefully at each one. Suddenly he stopped at one young man’s feet and gazed lovingly into his eyes. “Oh Amorth, of course you’re good enough for me! You’re perfect!” R’nan reassured his dragon softly.
As if they had been waiting for the brown to make his choice before hatching themselves, three more dragonets broke free of their shells and stumbled towards the waiting Candidates. The green made a skyline for the girls, while her two blue brothers headed for the boys.
The smallest hatchling made it to her goal first. “Don’t worry Esperarth, I’m sure Reel will like you!” Keva declared, bending down to caress her green’s upturned head.
The larger of the two blues had just knocked into one boy’s knee, nearly toppling him. “Really, Martilloth, you’re going to hurt yourself if you keep doing this!” Y’tris scolded through his tears of joy. The blue crooned apologetically. The smaller blue seemed indecisive for a moment, then butted at Casiano’s shin. “You want me, Desastreth?” the young man breathed incredulously, his expression a mixture of rapture and astonishment. His dragon nodded vigorously, evoking a ripple of laughter from the audience.
Marith bugled suddenly as the queen egg began to rock furiously. All eyes were drawn to the glowing orb as one long crack snaked down to the center of it. With a loud snapping noise, the new gold broke her shell neatly in half and stepped away from the fragments. She was a beautiful deep gold, a color as rich as the setting sun. The golden hatchling raised her head regally and strutted over to the two remaining girls, Thirza and Cayla. Both young women held their breath as the young queen eyed each of them speculatively.
Finally she made a choice. Running gracefully to Thirza, the dragonet trilled sweetly and locked her gaze with her chosen one. “Oh Bellezath, you’re the most beautiful dragon in the world!” Thirza clasped her dragon’s head to her and raised shining eyes to the crowd. “She says her name is Bellezath!”
As if on cue, the last eggs hatched to reveal a green, a bronze, a blue, and two browns. The green immediately Impressed. “Curarth, my love, I would never have let that gold Impress me!” Cayla said softly, kneeling down to drop a kiss on her dragon’s muzzle.
The bronze, a strong, burly dragon even as a hatchling, quickly singled out his choice. Kelavin strode forward confidently and shouted, “His name is Fortalezath!”. “I, for one, wouldn’t want him to be a Weyrleader.” Lythena remarked acidly. She hadn’t taken to the young man in his sevendays as a Candidate. “The dragons know best.” N’vin told her patiently, grinning.
The darker brown made his slow and stately way to one of the Candidates. “Fueroth, you show-off!” Stephon laughingly exclaimed, teasingly pulling on his dragon’s tail. The brown looked indignant, squealing and looking reproachfully at his rider.
The other brown, big for his color, was sprawled awkwardly at his bondmate’s feet. The young man gently helped him up. “Are you all right, Herreroth? These sands are hot!” Derrek asked anxiously, loud enough for everyone to hear.
The last hatchling, the blue, looked around plaintively and spotted the one remaining candidate—Zartan. With a squeak of relief, the little dragonet went running for him. “Vinoth, I’m glad you’re here, too!” Zartan told his blue, grinning widely though his eyes were still shadowed by sadness.
“A great first Hatching, wasn’t it, love?” N’vin asked absently as the visitors began to exit the Grounds. Lythena smiled tiredly, nodded, and promptly collapsed into the bronzerider’s arms. Alarmed, N’vin propped her up to a sitting position and felt for her pulse. It was then that he felt her thickening waist. Lythena wasn’t sick—she was pregnant!
