Bragging Rights and Dragon Flights

Writers: Duskdog, Iluva
Date Posted: 22nd June 2025

Characters: Nidre, Th'reyos
Description: Jossenth clutches!
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 9, day 15 of Turn 12
Notes: Mentioned: R'lor, Panitath, Nijen

Nidre

Th'reyos

It was late in the evening when Jossenth heaved a great sigh. She had been sighing dramatically for a few days now, actually, bored and uncomfortable with her egg-heavy state, but this one sounded _different_ somehow.

**Is it--** Nidre began.

}:Oh yes,:{ Jossenth replied, with another sigh, shuffling out to the Hatching Sands. With a moment of consideration as she went, and a flick of her tail, she reached out. }:Zarkarth, it is time for our eggs!. You may come see, if you’d like. This is not my favorite part -- I think I should like to have the company.:{

}:_Hurry up!_:{ Zarkarth roared at his rider with the impatience and urgency of a dragon about face Thread. They tore out of their temporary weyr overlooking the ocean in a mad dash - almost as fast as when the brown had rocketed up after Jossenth a month before. Now, with the arrival of the most perfect, the most fantastic, the most _beautiful_ clutch imminent, Zarkarth bugled all the way to the Hatching Cavern, bugled to the Weyr, to the entirety of the known world.

But once on the Sands, he was a different dragon entirely. Slowly, carefully, he approached, nuzzling Jossenth's neck with great affection, then backing away a little to give her space.

Shaking his head, Th’reyos strolled up beside Nidre. His dragon’s first - and likely only - time being a father; the excitement was its own high, its own bizarre temptation to toy with. “Evening, Weyrmama.” He said, smiling and offering her his flask. “Zar’s got some first-time jitters. Let me know if he’s annoying her too much.” As if the brown would heed anyone but Jossenth on this. “Wanna make a bet? See how many?”

“‘Weyrmama,’ really?” Nidre rolled her eyes, but took the flask and helped herself to a drink before passing it back. “The whole Weyr heard him the whole way here. I can’t wait to see how ridiculous he’s going to be, come Hatching Day. As for how many… hmm. You’re on, but you don’t think I have a secret advantage there?”

}:You don’t,:{ Jossenth pointed out. }:I don’t even know how many until I’m done.:{ She turned around and around, looking for the perfect spot to begin. }:I think it should be quite a lot, though. Don’t you think, Zarkarth? I must look very large.:{

}:Large, healthy, _radiant_.:{ Zarkarth agreed with obvious admiration, tail lashing as he shifted excitedly from foot to foot along the edges of the cavern while she twirled, a swollen, glittering, golden mirage. }:Ours will be the greatest clutch to ever grace these Sands, Jossenth. The greatest!:{

“Yeah, Hatching’s gonna be…” Th’reyos snorted. His tone remained affectionate but something about it was slightly softer, more serious, “It’s gonna be something.” He took a swig of his own as he watched the nesting gold, side-eyeing Nidre. “That’s some big talk, Weyrmama. Your girl hasn’t even started yet.” Then, grinning, “And I’ll have you know I’m as gracious a loser as I am a winner. So, what’ll it be - we betting drinks, marks, or something a little more exciting?”

}:Oh do keep flattering me.:{ Jossenth finally decided she was in a good spot, and gave a taut pause as she settled in to begin laying her clutch. }:I certainly didn’t choose wrong!:{

“That’s terribly irresponsible,” Nidre replied. “But if we’re going to be irresponsible anyway… why not all three? Go big or go home.”

Th'reyos barked a laugh. “All three? I like the way you think. Just, uh, remind me never to play cards with you.” He leaned a little closer, voice lowering, “Alright. Winner gets the drinks, the marks, and… _one_ favor. No questions asked.”

Meanwhile, Zarkarth puffed up an absolutely ridiculous amount at that level of praise. He flicked his wings in smug satisfaction, yet another confirmation of what he always knew to be true.

}:You could never do anything wrong.:{ He told the gravid queen, watching her with rapt attention. Yes, she _was_ radiant. As bright and as brilliant as the sun. Pride saturated the cavern, as heady and absolute as the Sands’ heat, as if it were not just the newest clutch, but the first clutch, the only clutch. The only one that ever mattered: _Theirs_.

Th’reyos couldn’t help the mental eye-roll. **Faranth Zar, you already caught her. Give it a rest.**

But asking Zarkarth to tone it down was like asking Thread to fall back up to the sky. The brown just blew a loud snort of sand at him, disgusted. }:She deserves everything. It is no easy thing being a mother. And look at her, she does it flawlessly.:{

**Alright, alright. Do your thing.**

}:Flawlessly,:{ Jossenth repeated with a grunt, depositing her first egg, well aware that she was not exactly the picture of grace and charm right now. The thought _is_ amusing, though. }:If they do not guess a high enough number, we should demand a bath afterwards and then soak them both.:{

“No questions asked,” Nidre agreed, reaching for the flask again. “Hmm… I’m going to guess thirty-four.”

Th'reyos’ thoughts got immediately drowned out by the wall of sound that was Zarkarth's joyous trumpeting. The first egg - warm and glistening, a tiny heartbeat pulsing in the hot sand. He hunkered down low, eager to watch their clutch take form. }:Agreed. They are old enough to know better.:{

**At least wait til she’s done before you do that again, will you?** Th’reyos sent a soft mental jab, though it was more of an affectionate slap than real reprimand.

“Hmm... Thirty-four.” He mused quietly. A respectable number. He mulled that over and when she handed back his flask he mulled it over another sip. “Alright. I’m gonna say thirty-six.” A brown wouldn’t have quite the same sway as a bronze over the numbers, but his was a hulking and mature male, and he wasn’t about to undersell his boy. “Who knows, we might end up meeting in the middle by the end of this. I do like rum, though.” He hinted.

“You’re getting way ahead of yourself,” she observed, arching a brow. “Like your boy here. Rum’s my choice, too, by the way.”

}:Zarkarth may trumpet for every single egg, if he likes,:{ Jossenth told her. }:Don’t shame him. The Weyr will enjoy the sound! Maybe it makes the eggs come faster. I feel encouraged. Invigorated, even!:{

She was, indeed, quite busy with her next few eggs, and Nidre just watched for a few minutes, marveling at how casual dragons could be about such a thing. One child was more than enough to turn her off of wanting to repeat the experience, but Jossenth had dozens and dozens every time.

“Panitath has been especially protective of her clutches since the poisoning, I think,” she observed eventually. “Jossenth isn’t like that -- she’s amused by the candidates coming by, so I expect to let R’lor bring them in to touch the eggs when the right time comes. Do you think our proud clutchsire can handle that?”

Zarkarth and Panitath might share that protective instinct, but having argued in their seaside weyr since arriving they’d managed to reach a consensus on that matter. Stretched back along two rows of the Stands, Th’reyos tilted his head. “He’s not real thrilled about it,” he admitted, pausing as yet another trumpet echoed over and around them, “but he wants what’s best for them. If Jossenth’s fine, and he can be here to watch,” - technically they had disagreed on the exact meaning of that word - “then I don’t see why not. Let them at ‘em.”

}:Oh, they may come, but they _will_ behave.:{ The brown grumbled as he slowly shadowed the gold’s movements, surveying each new shell like it was its own sunrise. }:They are perfect, Jossenth! I will make them see.:{

“You got a kid, right?” Th’reyos asked casually, “He Standing?”

She nodded. “He has been, anyway. Haven’t heard that he changed his mind this time around. He’s still young so he has a lot of time still… I’m not sure if I’d wish for him to Impress this time around or not. Maybe it would be better for him to have some time to fool around before having to turn serious. He’s already pretty serious, though. How about you? Any children?”

“Plenty of Pass left.” He agreed, a little more cryptically than intended. “And sixteen now isn’t the same sixteen as when we Impressed. These gotta grow up and learn that difference real fast.” Faster than he probably would have, too. In some ways, the ones who Impressed now that didn't have memories of riding their dragons before were lucky - they didn’t have a space to mourn the difference to begin with.

Her question hadn’t exactly caught him off guard, but still Th’reyos hesitated, his voice and his brain clashing in disagreement. “I…” A deep breath helped, glossing over the feeling of Zarkarth’s excitement and exhilaration. “Nah. I… I could have. But I screwed that up a while ago.” He ran a finger along the woodgrain beneath him. “I got none. None that I know about, at least.” He said with a snort.

Once upon a time, Nidre would have asked immediately, but she had learned -- eventually -- that tact was often more important, and less selfish, than the immediate gratification of indulging her curiosity. She regarded him for a moment, considering.

“Plenty of Pass left,” she echoed finally. “If there’s something holding you back, well… I thought I’d screwed things up a while ago with my son. And apparently it wasn’t too late after all. Maybe the same is true for you.” She hesitated. “Do you want to talk about it? ‘No’ is a perfectly fair answer.”

“It's like trying to herd firelizards into a net, Nidre. You know, why bother?” His smile was small, brief - but genuine. “They're gonna fly free. And I let her go.” Still, her words touched something inside him, something tucked away and often carefully kept there. “I'm not _looking_ to, not right now. But you're right. Probably not too late.”

Th’reyos paused, then caught her eye. “Besides, who wouldn't want a piece of this?” He gestured to himself with a deliberately sensual sweep, roguish smirk full of mischief.

She laughed, causing Jossenth to look up in her direction and huff. “Well, putting it like that would be enough to make _some_ women turn around and walk away. It’s a nice bronzerider impression, though. Have you been practicing?”

}:They make clutching sound so complicated,:{ Jossenth complained. }:When they only have one, it seems? And look at us -- we already have many, with more to come.:{

}:They make everything more complicated.:{ Zarkarth snorted, though his focus was primarily on their ever-growing clutch. }:But I suppose that is part of their appeal - sometimes. It would be easier, but probably dull if Mine just _did_ what I told him.:{

Although he wouldn’t mind if Th’reyos did a little more of what he wanted more often. For one, his rider wasn’t even _looking_ and oggling the eggs anymore, too busy shoring up memories of things he didn’t like and flirting with Jossenth’s rider, whom he did like. }:_Excuse_me_, since you’re so into talking about littles, how about you come and start counting ours? Jossenth is working hard over here, in case you’ve forgotten.:{

Th’reyos pretended like Zarkarth hadn’t just cracked a whip across their bond, though his eyes unfocused to admire the clutch through his brown’s proud paternal lens. To Nidre’s question, he shook his head, “Well, you know how it is. Stepping into their proverbial bronze shoes a little here, gotta at least try ‘em out.” Chuckling, he nodded toward their dragons, “Alright, I’ve been summoned. Wanna go check how they’re doing?”

“She’s been nudging me, too,” Nidre rolled her eyes. “I suppose they deserve a little validation.”

Jossenth was working steadily, occasionally pausing in her laying to lovingly nudge sand around her latest egg, or just move around a little, presumably to make things more comfortable for herself. }:I don’t care for numbers,:{ she told Nidre and Zarkarth, }:Though this looks like a lot, doesn’t it? And I still have a few more. What’s more important is that they are beautiful and contain beautiful and strong and smart children. And they are, and they do. I can tell.:{

“The ego!” Nidre replied with a smile, shaking her head.

Zarkarth rumbled - a soft, breathy sound from somewhere deep in his chest - in clear, unmistakable agreement with the queen. Th’reyos ran a hand up his muzzle, wearing the beatific look riders shared only with their dragons. It was a marvel. A miracle, to have a clutch full of new life. Bringing more dragons into the world. To give other clueless youngsters like he was their lifemate - even a mere shot at one - stretched his grin from ear to ear as Zarkarth relayed Jossenth’s sentiments.

He let out a low whistle in appreciation, eyes sweeping eggs glistening in little dunes of sand like an awed parent did when presented with their child’s masterpiece. “Look at this, you old renegade! Now _that_ is a clutch.” Th'reyos snuck a wink at Nidre.

}:I told you.:{ Zarkarth said smugly. He’d like to see Hanassath or Obrianth try to match _this_. Unequivocally _perfect_. He snorted, knowing they couldn’t.

It was only when Jossenth had finished and arranged them just-so that Th'reyos thought to ask, almost absently, “So, who won? Me or you?”

**You’re sure you’re done?** Nidre asked. **No surprises?**

}:I am quite finished. See them? Look how pretty I made them.:{

They were, indeed, very pretty. Nidre counted silently to herself once, and then again just to make sure. “Thirty-six,” she said with a mock sigh of resignation. “Looks like you win.”

But the number didn’t matter. The marks, the betting. The prize was already here, warm and waiting before them.

Last updated on the June 24th 2025

Welcome to Triad Weyrs!

Bragging Rights and Dragon Flights