Post by Omnia Munda on Jun 24, 2008 10:07:42 GMT -8
The evening of The Assignment, a little while after Questions for the Healer.
He'd checked, and knew all the people he'd asked into his task had departed his receiving chamber. Still, J'fel could not bring himself to raise his weary limbs from chair and hassock, to move himself out into that chamber again, to cross it to the door that led to Aderes' weyr.
Succor waited there, he was certain. He'd describe his success to her and find her arms open to congratulate him. He'd breathe the heady perfume of her hair and run his fingers over the soft marble of her perfect skin, and by morning his mind would be clear.
But for now the lack of clarity was stopping him from going to her. It was stopping him, increasingly, from doing anything but wish to fall asleep here in his chair, the hearth cold and the bed empty.
I feel it too, said Jordeth. He was somnolent and withdrawn; J'fel had mistaken the bronze's mood for weariness caused by his earlier efforts to cheer his rider on account of his rank. The knot is your finest adornment, he'd whispered then into his rider's mind, because it was after all, and Jordeth felt any mates of quality would see it. Aderes saw it, to be sure, and there was no doubt J'fel thought her a mate of quality. It was just his rider's willingness to settle for less that tired him.
Nevertheless, it wasn't that little talk that had worn Jordeth out. He was reeling, in a way, from the image his rider had asked him to give the other dragons. He couldn't remember quite what it was now; it had come from his rider, just as most of the images dragons didn't use in daily life did. There was nothing unusual about it except how sudden it had been, how strange...
It was impulsive of him to ask, and Jordeth rarely allowed himself impulse. But this time he could not resist. The day's complexity bothered them both too much.
Where did we send them, my weyrleader?
J'fel had to think a moment. He had sent them to a particular place to begin their investigations, yes, but there had been so many options. He'd been considering splitting them into groups, but - and then it came to him quickly, and he couldn't believe he'd ever been confused.
"Crom," he answered the dragon, shaking his head. "Too big to split them. We'll send 'em to Telgar after that, get the crafthalls checked out good."
With at least this one thing answered - at least in their minds - both dragon and man felt lighter. Further conference brought them to agreement: they'd approach queen and queen's rider simultaneously, relying on the good luck such method tended to bring. Through the darkness Jordeth soared toward the hatching grounds while his rider quietly closed one door behind him, then knocked at another.
The riders and Caminar alike had agreed to the plan. Certainly it was a good night to celebrate.
He'd checked, and knew all the people he'd asked into his task had departed his receiving chamber. Still, J'fel could not bring himself to raise his weary limbs from chair and hassock, to move himself out into that chamber again, to cross it to the door that led to Aderes' weyr.
Succor waited there, he was certain. He'd describe his success to her and find her arms open to congratulate him. He'd breathe the heady perfume of her hair and run his fingers over the soft marble of her perfect skin, and by morning his mind would be clear.
But for now the lack of clarity was stopping him from going to her. It was stopping him, increasingly, from doing anything but wish to fall asleep here in his chair, the hearth cold and the bed empty.
I feel it too, said Jordeth. He was somnolent and withdrawn; J'fel had mistaken the bronze's mood for weariness caused by his earlier efforts to cheer his rider on account of his rank. The knot is your finest adornment, he'd whispered then into his rider's mind, because it was after all, and Jordeth felt any mates of quality would see it. Aderes saw it, to be sure, and there was no doubt J'fel thought her a mate of quality. It was just his rider's willingness to settle for less that tired him.
Nevertheless, it wasn't that little talk that had worn Jordeth out. He was reeling, in a way, from the image his rider had asked him to give the other dragons. He couldn't remember quite what it was now; it had come from his rider, just as most of the images dragons didn't use in daily life did. There was nothing unusual about it except how sudden it had been, how strange...
It was impulsive of him to ask, and Jordeth rarely allowed himself impulse. But this time he could not resist. The day's complexity bothered them both too much.
Where did we send them, my weyrleader?
J'fel had to think a moment. He had sent them to a particular place to begin their investigations, yes, but there had been so many options. He'd been considering splitting them into groups, but - and then it came to him quickly, and he couldn't believe he'd ever been confused.
"Crom," he answered the dragon, shaking his head. "Too big to split them. We'll send 'em to Telgar after that, get the crafthalls checked out good."
With at least this one thing answered - at least in their minds - both dragon and man felt lighter. Further conference brought them to agreement: they'd approach queen and queen's rider simultaneously, relying on the good luck such method tended to bring. Through the darkness Jordeth soared toward the hatching grounds while his rider quietly closed one door behind him, then knocked at another.
The riders and Caminar alike had agreed to the plan. Certainly it was a good night to celebrate.