Hatching Feast (open!)

[anhydrous]

(Althesia)

Thus far Telgar Weyr had proved to be quite an overwhelming place. Althesia had barely arrived in time to experience the mind-numbing thrum that signaled the beginning of the Hatching, those unforgettable vibrations echoing in her skull long after the last shell had cracked. Without a moment to breathe a word in-between she had been whisked away in a flood of people, the mindless swell eagerly making its way in the direction of the Feast.

There were people everywhere, each one talking and laughing and drinking, the din of their banter almost drowning out the music. Althesia’s eyes flashed, her head spinning as she tried to pinpoint the direction the tune was drifting from. Just as the joviality of the event was threatening to swallow her, she spotted the illustrious blue and folded her body into a chair not far away from her fellow Harpers. There was a sense of relief, the chaos around her settling as the comfort of familiarity took hold.

She took a long drink of wine, cringing as the Harpers began a new song. The tune that they were choosing to play was rather pedestrian, but the weyrfolk didn’t seem to mind. Perhaps they hadn’t been introduced to anything more interesting. It wasn’t like she could take up a flute and do any better, so she continued to empty her cup, watching the festivities in silence.

The only thing that would mark Althesia out of place would be her reserved posture, her clothing almost appropriate for the event. A skirt stretched over her crossed legs, a ruffle near the bottom brushing casually against her upper calf. As usual the neckline of her blouse plunged dangerously, the white linen trimmed in delicate blue stitching. Realizing how offensive she must look with her crossed legs and thoughtful frown, Althesia relaxed and took another sip of wine. Perhaps it was the drink, but the music was actually beginning to sound good.

Eventually she would need to inform someone of rank that she had arrived, but for now she let the celebration dance around her. This was obviously quite a huge deal, and she doubted that the Weyrleader or his Weyrwoman would want to be bothered with something so trifle. Perhaps she would notify them later in the evening, or tomorrow even.

Taking note as the tune shifted into something more danceable, a smile crept across her features. She would need to find a place to sleep, and she was almost certain that she could find a dragonrider who would be willing to share his weyr for the night.

[Selvagem]

C'cao
The greenrider smiled at I'dalyn's exuberant response. He already knew from Weyr gossip going around that the new Weyrlingmaster sought staff, and his reaction was enough to inform C'cao that his search must have been relatively unfruitful to date. Though just why that might be was beyond the normally reclusive rafeiro: he had a soft spot for children, a feeling accentuated by Operiath's happiness around young dragons and suitable candidates. He had Searched a good share of candidates in his time, and it would give him pleasure to mingle with the weyrlings as he had with his Searched candidates. He might even meet one or two that he had Searched. That, and the chance to throw back all of I'den's harsh methods like dirt on the deceased bronzerider's reputation, were more than sufficent reason for him to offer his services. He smiled.

"I'm glad," he sipped his apple juice, "It's not an offer made lightly, I can assure you."

He fell silent again as I'dalyn spoke.

“You know, you’re the first to actually offer yourself up. I’ve had to bribe everyone else by getting them out of watch duty. Unless that’s your aim too? Either way, I don’t really care. I’m going to need all the help I can get.”

C'cao's blue eyes sparkled, "Well, that would be a boon! Though, no, I wasn't thinking of it in those terms. I like youngsters, I've Searched quite a few candidates. Working with weyrlings is just the next step."

He chuckled, his earlier dark mood quite gone, "But if you threw in the lack of watch duty I wouldn't mind either."

[anhydrous]

(I’dalyn)

I’dalyn listened placidly, his air distinctly content as he regarded his fellow rider. “It’s good to hear that someone wants to help just for the sake of helping,” he replied warmly, the faint hypocrisy in that statement carefully shielded. Perhaps his acceptance of the weyrlingmaster knots hadn’t been entirely selfless, but he needn’t openly discuss it.

With the slight satisfaction of a man who finally had something to be proud of, I’dalyn watched his new charges meander around the cavern. Quite a few still wore their newly-impressed dazed expressions. That puzzled and yet self-satisfied air would last for at least a sevenday, the glory of impression taking its time to fade.

I'dalyn continued to watch his weyrlings and spoke without making eye contact, his words languidly directed at the other man. “I’ll get you out of that tedious chore,” he promised, eyes following the path of one of the many new riders. With a brief pause in his voyeurism he glanced side-long at C’cao, lips pulled into a smile. “It can be an added bonus, and it’s not like we have much to watch for these days, anyway.”

As the conversation drew on his words flowed effortlessly, brevity and consideration lost to his recent success in his search for staff. “That’ll leave you with quite a bit of free time now that search is over,” he surmised, topics running together in his mind. Following his own particular chaotic train of thought, I’dalyn took the time to compliment the man’s green on her recent achievements.

“I’ve heard that Opheriath is quite the searcher! Do you have a count on how many of her candidates impressed this time around?” Eyebrows raised in curiosity, he took the last sip of his wine and folded his arms across his chest to leisurely await an answer.

[blueaid]

He had suffered the clutches of a doddering auntie who wanted to tell him how desperately proud of him she was, and Zedayin-- Drowsy. A wordless reminder.-- Z'dayi felt he was deserving of a plate of food and a place to sit and eat it.

Chuckling as he detached from the old woman, Z'dayi imparted to an amused-looking onlooker, "She thought I was her grandson. How do you tell an old lady that you ain't the boy she thinks you are?" He shrugged, good-natured but superficial, and slotted himself in the queue to get a plate and vittles to fill it.

Somewhere in the din, the clink of plates and the rise and fall of voices, he was vaguely aware of Tremaith drifting quietly off to sleep. The part of him that had woken up that morning a slacker, a candidate, a Vintner-- that part of him sighed with internal relief at the respite from this new presence in his mind and heart. But the other part of him, the new part of him, the part of him that lived and died in the adoration and pride he felt mirrored in his bronze's mind-- that part of him clamored to keep the contact thriving.

Still here...

Startled out of his respite, Z'dayi gave a smile heavy with chagrin and turned to survey the cavern, to find some place to sit, to rest, to collect scattered thoughts.

To eat.

[Invisible]

Well, she was quite tired of waiting. All the music and plenty of men and not a one was going to ask her to dance? She’d just have to take matters into her own hands. Genet set down her empty juice cup and looked over the assembled people. It was a tough choice. The first partner would determine the rest in one way or another. She cast her gaze about and finally settled on a likely target. The new weyrlings, babies though most of them were, seemed the best bet. After all they would have to make an early night of it and wouldn’t be trying to do more than dance.

Straightening the hang of the amber around her neck and patting her hair back into place she headed for where she’d last spied one of them. After crossing the busy living cavern she located her target and changed course to come by where he was. “H’tio!” she said all brightness and cheer. “I just wanted to congratulate you. So, congratulations! That was so good for you!” That out of the way she grinned merrily and said, “I think it’s traditional for new weyrlings to celebrate. And for us poor left over ones to be pitied, but we’ll skip that. But, I think you had best dance with me. Because no one has asked me and that makes me sad. Surely once they see you dancing with me the folk will see I shouldn’t be left alone on the sidelines!” She sounded, without quite knowing it, just like a busybody older sister.

[Selvagem]

C'cao
If C'cao heard the ever so slight hypocrisy of I'dalyn's statement, he did not notice it. It passed him and was gone, and he smiled to see the Weyrlingmaster so contented with his newest find. Well, that made one of them, at least, and he silently congratulated himself on finding a chance to be useful, yet again. Always a pleasure, Sir, of course - he held back a sarcastic chuckle. And on getting out of the tedious watch duty too, which had always been too sedentary to be interesting and too terse for any use of his flute during its tenure on his time. He nodded his gratitude.

"My thanks then, I'dalyn," like the brownrider he was watching the passing weyrlings, considering if he should seize them up before any lessons began, "Tis' true though, that things are often quieter in an interval."

He half-turned at the Weyrlingmaster's next comment, and the smile quirked briefly into a grin, "Not neccessarily. I'll be involved with the weyrlings, after all. Though those would be more pleasent than the hours on Watch, I doubt they'll be much less."

I'dalyn was clearly deep in thought: C'cao had never been very close to the other man, not even in weyrling class, but he recognized the look and voice-tone of preoccupation. Yet the man's next question was thoughtful enough that the greenrider lifted a brow as well, and amusement coloured his voice in clear undertones as he replied.

"Aye, she is," C'cao could not keep the pride out of his words, "She does me proud every Search and every Hatching. I wasn't quite watching this round, but I would reckon..two or three of the new weyrlings were her candidates."

He sipped at his glass, eyes thoughtful, "Might have been one more too, but that one took off just 'fore the Hatching. Pity. I...had a bet riding on that one."

It was as far as he was comfortable in mentioning Selvagem, though she was never far from his mind. He doubted I'dalyn would understand, at any rate, even if he explained everything.

---

H'tio
The newly-made brown weyrling cast himself by a table of sweet meats and allowed himself to linger, brooding. He had tried to seek out Jh'na just minutes before, hoping to congratulate him now that his green was finally asleep and he was drooling over her; but his friend had been captured by his proud family just as H'tio approached, which left the gray-eyed boy to make his way around as best he could. His own family had met him already, and had left the feast early to return to the Hold on dragonback through his uncle. Some Harper business, his father had said, though just what business it was he hadn't specified. It must have been urgent though, to make them leave so quickly. H'tio hadn't dared to ask.

A soft whirl at the edge of his mind twitched his mouth into a smile. Runimeth, sleeping on the stone couch beside his new cot in the Weyrling Barracks, must have twitched in his sleep. Awe still hung like a veil over his thoughts, though he couldn't quite put a word to that lingering euphoria, that nameless joy. The past seven hours or so had passed so quickly. It all seemed like a dream now, save for the kindling presence at the tip of his mind that told him it was not. He sighed, contented.

A shadow cast by some other person fell over him. He glanced up, surprised first by the proximity of the person, and then by her identity. It was another of the candidates, one who had not Impressed. Startled, he started to greet her.

"Genet? Hey..."

“H’tio!” she said all brightness and cheer. “I just wanted to congratulate you. So, congratulations! That was so good for you!”

H'tio smiled, "Thanks, you..."

“I think it’s traditional for new weyrlings to celebrate. And for us poor left over ones to be pitied, but we’ll skip that. But, I think you had best dance with me. Because no one has asked me and that makes me sad. Surely once they see you dancing with me the folk will see I shouldn’t be left alone on the sidelines!”

"Oh," the dark gray eyes were momentarily blank: it was a second more before he fathomed what she meant, "Dance...you mean, with me?"

He straightened, realizing he sounded like an idiot, "Dance, yes, of course. My pleasure. The next number is about to begin, I think."

[Invisible]

If she thought she was overwhelming it wasn’t obvious in the way she acted. Genet just stood there and grinned at H’tio while waiting for him to catch up to everything she’d said. When he finally did she laughed merrily and bobbed her head. “It is a pleasure indeed. I am quite the accomplished dancer. I can make even the most oafish of people look good.” It takes her a moment, but then she laughs again and says, “Not that I am implying you are. I am just saying. I cannot believe I had to find my own partner.”

When her brain caught up with her mouth she grinned. “It is. Starting I mean. Come on then. We’d best find a spot.” Expecting him to follow after her, or keep up if he were so inclined, she lead the way to the dance floor. Occasionally this required a slight elbowing to get someone too oblivious to make room for her, but eventually she made it to the spot where the next song was just starting up. Turning to H’tio she held out her arm so he might lead her onto the floor at least before the dance began.

[anhydrous]

(I'dalyn)

I’dalyn was having difficulty concentrating on C'cao's words, his mind swimming restlessly. Absently he thought of Daisulyth, the dragon fitfully sleeping back at their weyr. The feeling of guilt would not leave him, even while his beast slept. So far he had managed to suppress it, although he wasn’t really sure how much longer he would be able to ignore the sentiment.

He was brought back to reality by C'cao's next words, Not neccessarily. I'll be involved with the weyrlings, after all. I’dalyn frowned, shaking off his thoughtless words and agreeing with the Greenrider. “Of course, of course. Busy with the weyrlings.” Perhaps Daisulyth’s unease was the cause of his absentmindedness.

Nodding, I’dalyn noted the slight discretion swathing C’cao’s words. “Not everyone is meant to be a dragonrider,” he pointed out, “But it’s still a shame to see someone with potential avoid possibility…” his voice trailed off, curious at the mention of the run-away candidate, but considerate enough to see that it wasn’t an issue C’cao desired to be pushed.

“I’ll need you to stop by the barracks sometime tomorrow,” he said more seriously, seeking to change to subject. “You’ll want to get on board with the plans.” He neglected to mention that most of the plans weren’t yet laid, searching his memory for the next lesson that would need to be taught.

“There’s a butchering lesson scheduled for tomorrow morning, although it shouldn’t really require much help. I’m thinking that your assistance will be required more next month, when the drills begin.” Mentally I'dalyn noted that he would need even more help once the weyrlings started hunting and flying, but that was still quite a ways off. It seemed that he couldn't help but get ahead of himself.

[Omnia Munda]

J'fel was holding his post in waitfulness, the weyrwoman Aderes his goal - but to look at him this was far from obvious. He'd turned part-sideways in his seat and hung one foot up over the other knee, then draped his elbow over the back of the chair, making the most of posture and youth to serve where height could not. His wingriders had left him to get plates and though the weyrleader's stomach was all too aware that he'd been on the sands for hours and not eaten since, he was still just beginning to feel cool enough that dinner sounded appealing. Instead he took mental count as weyrlings filtered into the feast one by one - T'nur had appeared but just as swiftly disappeared, Z'dayi was eating, and H'tio was going to dance with the girl who'd tried to give J'fel himself a piece of her mind over her brother. Good luck, thought the weyrleader, lips twisted.

He'd caught a glimpse of Aderes and started to stand from his seat then, so that she might find him more easily, but the golden-haired weyrwoman's progress was paused by conversation with another and J'fel subsided, pleased enough to watch her waft like a breeze through the crowd, a refreshment to all her people. Watch out for the storm, he thought, and grinned a sudden, self-satisfied grin for no reason.

But perhaps the harper Althesia might think there was reason, for as passing figures cut off J'fel's view of Aderes he cast his gaze about otherwise and paused upon the skirt-swept calf of the journeyman's crossed leg. His eyes flicked up to her face, finding her drinking, and the young weyrleader raised a brow.

Still aware that Telgar's newest weyrwoman might at any moment emerge to collect on a walk to the barracks beneath the stars, J'fel got to his feet. A check through the crowd assured him that Aderes was not much closer than before. He hated to abandon the table he'd chosen - but he could always choose another. Like the harper woman's.

His stride - his swagger - was pridefully lazy, one hand tucked fingertips in pocket as he wove to the table near the harpers. Still J'fel grinned, and so he was grinning still, one brow cocked, when he stopped across from Althesia and laid a hand upon an empty chair. He was conscious of the change in music, but would hold off the offer of a dance for just a moment. "Waiting for someone?"

[Xinnai]

Salina couldn't stand the people anymore. She'd be left alone for a second, a moment or two of peace that she basked in, and then someone else would pop up out of nowhere, wanting to congratulate her. Most of the people just did that and went on her way, but some, more than she would ever want, would seem to settle in, wanting to chat about Deoneth and how they had just known she would Impress the little queen. They wanted to know all about the gold and about her and the weyrling just didn't feel up to it.

She made her escape, muttering about using the facilities, which seemed to clear the area pretty effectively. She slipped through the crowd, a blur of vivid blue and gold. She was utterly worn out. Working, the Hatching, the feast, talking with J'fel, fighting with Ez...It had her on the brink of collapse. Or so it seemed.

But it would just be rude to leave now and she hadn't even danced. She sent one longing look towards the floor, which certainly seemed to be filling up now. She heaved a small sigh and then spotted someone, someone she knew she could talk with and would be given a large berth because of their association. It was rude to think of, but was true.

She made her way towards him, smile wide on her face, warm and genuine. "Jan-J'sen!" She called as she reached him, grey eyes pleading for him to speak with her. Please, please don't let him throw her to the dogs. "I'm just...so happy for you. Really. It's amazing." She stood in front of his place by the wall then, feeling like a wherry, hoping that he would talk with her, if only to save her.

[ignisfatuus]

J'sen had been lost in a world of his own when Salina came up to him. Even though he had been looking forward and watching at the people dancing and mingling, they had become glazed over, snapping back to life as he was addressed, still not quite used to his new name.
"Well I'm glad someone is happy." His voice was fairly quiet, one could barely here it above the din of the festivities. While a few people had come up to congradulate him, there had not been many, not that he minded that. But he had noticed a few looks he got and caught snippets of conversations if they passed near by. Most did not seem overly pleased that a Caminar had impressed a Bronze. And whilst he was delighted to have Leeth, he was not estatic about the whole thing.

It took J'sen a few moments to snap out of his own self pity to notice the pleading look in the girl's eyes. For a fraction of a second his brows knitted together as he wondered why she was coming to him, a small part believing it to his own imagination. It dawned on him that he wasn't the only one who didn't want to be here. A small smile appeared on his face as he realised he had found a comrad in this place.
"I never expected to impress a Bronze, or at all in fact. To be honest I didn't really expect you to impress either." J'sen said, while not really smiling much but his expression was...softer than usual as he answered her plees. "Life likes to throw the unexpected at you it seems, doesn't it?"

[Xinnai]

"Very happy, if I may confess so. It's glad to see some new people around here." She smiled, delighted to have a companion who was not seducing, fighting or fawning all over her. It was a pleasant change from the rest of the evening. She leaned lightly against the wall by his right side, holding her skirts delicately. It amused her vastly to have such a dress.

"I didn't expect you to Impress either," she murmured, feeling deliciously delighted to hear that he hadn't had faith in her. It was better than all the lies that had been thrown at her during the duration of the festivities. "And especially not to a bronze! It seems we do have all the luck." Grey eyes were sparkling as she nodded, lips curved in her first genuine smile in ages before this conversation. "It does indeed. It definitely does." She laughed softly. "So how is your lovely bronze?"

[anhydrous]

(Althesia)

Althesia’s eyes lingered nowhere in particular, the glass in her hand enough of a distraction to keep her from noticing J’fel’s approach. The rich curious tones of his voice caught her off guard, but she languidly swallowed the alcohol in her mouth before daring a word in the mystery man’s direction.

“Waiting?” she repeated absently, her eyes sweeping upwards to meet J’fel’s hungry stare. The magnetism in those lively mirrors was staggering, and her chest tightened ever so slightly under their scrutiny. Waiting for you, she asserted privately, wine glass forgotten on the table as she propped her arm on the back of her chair and cupped her chin curiously in one hand.

The smallest of smiles caught hold of one corner of her mouth as her flickering gaze interpreted the man’s knots, her fingers resting lightly on her lower lip. “I wouldn’t wait for just anyone, Weyrleader.” His title held more surprise than admiration, Althesia’s shock masked as she offered a more generous smile in J’fel’s direction. She had been expecting someone... taller, perhaps?

“Given that you’ve found me,” she began slyly, shifting forward and dropping her hand from her lips to let it hang over the back of her chair, “I suppose I should introduce myself. I was sent from the Hall by Master Salvarn to do commissioned portrait work.”

It was likely that she had been expected, although she still wasn’t sure who exactly had commissioned what. In his old age Salvarn had begun to leave out such details when briefing her for an assignment. Eventually she would need to discover for who she had been sent, but that was the last thought on her mind as she stared up at Telgar’s young weyrleader. “I’m Althesia,” she offered laconically, the slightest note of indifference melding into the dance of syllables.

[Omnia Munda]

J'fel was evidently not unaccustomed to the note of surprise with which the harper woman spoke his title. His brows flew up and a smirk tightened the corner of his mouth as she said it, and as though he answered a question she hadn't asked the young weyrleader dipped his head and leaned into the hand on the back of the chair, spine curving and shoulders sliding into a lazily sensual slouch. Height, or the lack of it, could be of no concern to a man who stood this way.

He had the faintest recollection of the Master's name. The fact that a woman had been sent caused a widening of his eyes and of his starved grin, too, a flashing of teeth kind complement to the brightness of that endless blue gaze. Sending off silent thanks to Salvarn for choosing such a student, J'fel murmured, "Althesia." A beat, and as if stricken by delight he added more lowly: "Oh, that's lovely to say: Althesia."

He hadn't a drop to drink; the sentiment was earnest, if wolfishly spoken. This young man had no fear at all of being over-the-top.

"Call me J'fel. Perhaps I can welcome you to Telgar with a dance?"

[Invisible]

Genet was the perfect dance partner with H’tio although it’s quite possible he was sick of her non-stop chatter by the time the harpers finished. She had a comment about everything. This person’s dress and that person’s shoes and the inability of one of them to dance especially compared to her own skills.

When the music ended she bid the weyrling a pleasant good evening and moved on to the next person. Three more dances, each with a different partner, and she was done with the whole mess. Best to leave before people got too drunk and all. On her way out she stopped by the table where the cake was for one last piece to munch on while seeing to a place to sleep for the night. Hopefully G’tet would be back tomorrow and she could sort out what to do.