Pern Needs Dragonriders

Writers: Bree, Dana, Eimi, Emma, Yvonne
Date Posted: 15th January 2006

Characters: Lenala, Ar'lis, M'galec, Tsaera, J'an
Description: After a troublesome flight, Vilarth clutches only eighteen eggs.
Location: River Bluff Weyr
Date: month 10, day 6 of Turn 3

Lenala

Lenala hated the whispers most of all. The ebb and flow of voices in the Hatching Caverns had shifted over the past candlemarks, from the excited hum that always accompanied a clutching to low voiced conversations and uncomfortable whispers.

Eighteen eggs sat nestled in the warm sand a few paces from where Lenala stood numbly. Vilarth carefully shifted the last egg into place, stretching out one protective wing to shelter her clutch as she settled more comfortably into the sand.

She knew it would be the last egg even before Vilarth craned her neck to look back at her rider. }: Do you not want to see my eggs? :{
** They're magnificent, ** Lenala replied, feigning enthusiasm as she stepped closer. The annoyance of the hot sand though her boots and the murmuring of the crowd faded away as she ran her eyes over the clutch.

Eighteen eggs. Vilarth's last clutch had been forty-two. The one before that had been nearly fifty.

Tsaera watched as Lenala crossed the Sands from the tiered seats that lined the edges of the cavern, her lips pressed into a thin white line. Eighteen eggs - she'd counted before Vilarth had hidden her precious clutch from their view. She had enough sense not to follow the Weyrwoman Second to see the eggs, since Queens often became highly territorial of the Hatching Cavern when their eggs were soft, but she dearly wanted to. She waited silently for Lenala to return.

~*~

Clutchings always brought the Weyrlingmaster in to see how big the next class would become. With over forty currently, he could not be blamed for expecting a similar number again. He came up close behind Tsaera, "How many?" he asked.

"Eighteen," the Weyrwoman said tightly. "And Vilarth appears to be finished."

"Eighteen," he repeated, a stunned note to his voice, as if he couldn't believe it. "Are you sure?"

"Use your eyes. How many do you see?" Tsaera snapped. She stood as Lenala slowly turned and began making her way back from the Sands. "There's a serious problem when Tabanirth easily outlays Vilarth."

"It was not a _normal_ flight, Lady Tsaera," M'galec reminded politely, stepping up behind his Weyrlingmaster and standing up for his new Weyrmate.
"The clutch size is merely a reflection of that fact." He resisted the urge to look at Ar'lis accusingly, remembering the bruises and scratches that had been inflicted on the goldrider's body.

Ar'lis' jaw tightened, but he didn't dare glance over at the man. His eyes were fixed on Lenala as his mind whirled with conflicting thoughts. Oh, he felt guilt - M'galec certainly didn't need to use that slight tone to remind _him_ of what had happened. Ar'lis' upper lip twitched slightly as if he was trying to hold back a defensive snarl.

He'd _been_ there. He remembered what had happened.

On the ledge high above Vilarth, Zylarth crouched, his head angled in such a way where he could observe his lovely mate and their eggs. The bronze didn't understand why his rider felt disappointment, among other emotions, about this clutch. They were _his_ offspring. His first! Why should there be disappointment?

Ar'lis's eyes flickered from the woman to her dragon and the sad grouping of shining eggs. Such a small clutch. Bitter disappointment welled in him.
Too small.

"You're right. It wasn't a normal flight, and be glad that you are _not_ a part of it, M'galec. Ar'lis? You, Lenala and I have some things to discuss."
She set off down the steps to intercept Lenala as she reached the bottom of the tiered seating.

For a brief moment it looked like Lenala wanted to do nothing more than flee. But her shoulders slumped and she stood, watching Tsaera approach with Ar'lis trailing along in her wake. Lenala caught M'galec's gaze, her eyes pleading with him for help.

The bronzerider gave her a more confident smile than he felt in return.
Tsaera had all but ordered him to stay out of it, and he was not fool enough to disobey her. Still, he would stay as close as he could and offer whatever comfort his presence could bring. Some dashing hero he was turning out to be.

The Weyrwoman waited impatiently for Lenala to join her, then led the junior goldrider and the bronzerider off to one corner where they'd have a little bit of privacy. Her mouth was set in a thin line, and her grey eyes were as hard as flint. "Care to tell me what's going on here?"

Lenala kept her eyes fastened on the floor. "The flight was shorter than usual. I suppose... that must have..."

"_Obviously_ it was shorter, Lenala." Tsaera turned her full attention to her 'Second. "Vilarth laid eighteen eggs to Tabanirth's forty-three. Shells and shards, what did you do?! Let her gorge? I thought you had more sense than this!"

Wincing, Lenala shook her head. "I thought--" But she hadn't thought, and that was the problem. She'd been too tied up in her own silly feelings to remember that her most important job in life was caring for Vilarth. In trying to become stronger, all she'd done was reveal how truly useless she really was.

The Weyrwoman grit her teeth. "Well? I'm still waiting for an explanation, Lenala. What did you _do_?"

Her voice was nearly inaudible. "I lost control."

"You lost control." Tsaera's voice was flat. She closed her eyes briefly to rein in her temper, but the respite was brief. "You've ridden gold for _ten_
turns, and yet you 'lost control'. We're in the middle of a Fall! How could you 'lose control'?!"

Lenala closed her eyes and dug her teeth into her lower lip, dug her fingernails into her palms.... She was _not_ going to cry. "I... I made a mistake, Tsaera. I tried--"

"Tried?! That's not good enough. You're toying with people's _lives_- Pern needs dragonriders. My _Weyr_ needs dragonriders! Every Fall we lose riders to Threadscore, sometimes to /between/, and we need men and women up there to fill in the gaps and keep Thread from the ground. Your _trying_ obviously isn't good enough, especially when by doing so your dragon lays less than half of what she normally does!"

Tears burned their way down her cheeks, but she refused to lift her head, letting her hair hide her face. "I'm sorry, Tsaera. It's my fault. Let Ar'lis go... this isn't his problem." If she was going to feel guilty, at least she could wallow in it. The idea that it really _was_ all her fault brought a fresh surge of tears.

If anything, the little catch in Lenala's voice hardened Tsaera's heart.
"No. Ar'lis had a part to play in this little drama and he's scorching well going to see it out. Not only did you fail to control Vilarth's flight, Lenala, but both you and Ar'lis were aware of this and yet all I was told was that 'the flight was wrong'." She snorted angrily. "_Wrong_. With no indication that it was _so_ wrong that it produced only eighteen eggs! This is _my_ Weyr and I sharding well deserve to know what's going on!"

Lenala winced as if she'd been struck, but there was nothing more she could say. She wanted to look up and find M'galec, but to do so would require letting everyone see that she was crying, and the tattered remains of her pride wouldn't allow that.

Ar'lis stood close enough to Lenala so that his fingers could briefly brush against her arm as he shifted his stance. He wasn't sure where they stood, and he wasn't quite sure what he felt for her, but he _did_ know that the woman probably needed some kind of reassurance. "It _was_ wrong, Weyrwoman,"
he said quietly, knowing that there was no excuse for sharding any of this.

"Yes, Ar'lis. We've already established that. The question is, what am I going to do with the pair of you now." The Weyrwoman sighed and crossed her arms. The heat from the Sands was beginning to seep through the soles of her thin sandals, and she felt her temper rise with the heat. The three of them had attracted a small ring of onlookers who were busy trying to appear as if they weren't listening at all. **This is no way to handle this,** Tsaera decided. She needed a chance to cool down, and their little drama didn't need to be played out before an audience. "Both of you will meet with K'sedel and I in my office in a quarter candlemark. Don't be late."

Last updated on the January 15th 2006

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