Work Text:
"Oh, Mirrim, I couldn't do that," insisted Menolly, as they sat at the table after dinner, waiting for the music to begin.
"Why not?" asked Mirrim, forthright as usual. "You've got nine fire-lizards, Menolly, you're obviously a natural. And Path thinks you'll do well. You know that dragons know these things."
I certainly do, confirmed Path, although her voice was only for her rider's ears. Your friend should take her place at the next Hatching, like you should have been down there for mine!
"But you saw what Brekke's bronze did," fretted Menolly. "Wouldn't that be awful, with a whole fair of them? They might do some serious damage - or one of them might get hurt trying!"
"You're always so modest," replied Mirrim. "I'm sure Ramoth can sit on your fire-lizards, if you're worried about it."
"That's exactly what I'm worried about," said Menolly. "She just might. Or just... they wouldn't be more than a mouthful for her..."
"Don't be silly," scolded Mirrim. "However much Ramoth dislikes fire-lizards, she's not going to eat them. Anyway, you've got much more control over your fire-lizards than Brekke had over Berd. She wasn't exactly in a position to explain to him that she wasn't being attacked, now, was she?"
"I suppose."
"So we're going to see Manora tomorrow, and ask if you can Stand?" said Mirrim, in a brisk tone that implied it was all sorted and Menolly couldn't possibly back out now.
"No, Mirrim," said Menolly. "I'd make an appalling Weyrwoman. Handing out fire-lizard eggs is embarrassing enough, and usually Lessa has already decided where they're going! I'd fall to pieces the moment some Holder decided to take exception that their son had Impressed, or not done so. Not to mention all the other politics I'm sure they get involved in."
"See, you're standing up to me," said Mirrim. "So it's not beyond you to have a bit of a backbone when it matters to you, is it? Anyway, at this rate you'd be Junior Weyrwoman until the Pass is over, and you've seen how Lessa hates to delegate anything."
"I'm not going to do it, Mirrim," said Menolly, tiredly. "Look, here come the musicians. Shush now, I've heard them practising and it's going to be good tonight."
As the dragons hummed that now-familiar Hatching note, Menolly found herself tumbling out of bed and searching for the thick-soled sandals she'd been given to wear. What had possessed her to do this again? Oh yes, it had been Mirrim's incessant nagging, and indeed the girl was at her door already, waiting impatiently for her to get dressed.
"The eggs won't wait forever, you know," called Mirrim, through the closed door.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," insisted Menolly, looking for a brush to pull through her hair. She could have sworn she'd put it right there last night! As she was casting around for it in dismay, Rocky popped out of /between/ and deposited a very cold hairbrush - complete with someone else's hair - in her hands.
"Oh dear," she exclaimed, "this isn't even mine, Rocky! What have I told you about taking other people's things?"
"Having fun in there?" asked Mirrim loudly.
"Oh, for goodness sake, Mirrim, just come in," said Menolly, distractedly. "Now, Rocky, do you remember where you got this from? You must take it back there right this instant, you hear me?"
Menolly handed back the hairbrush and hoped that Rocky had understood her meaning. They were quite responsive to simple requests, but the jumble of thoughts in her head must be almost as confusing for them as it was for her, and because she didn't know where he'd taken it from she couldn't give him a picture.
"Looking for this?" asked Mirrim, scooping Menolly's hairbrush from under the bed, where one of the fire-lizards had knocked it during the night.
"Oh, yes, thank you," said Menolly, taking the hairbrush and trying to neaten up a little.
"The hatchlings won't mind if your hair's not immaculate," said Mirrim, in a friendly fashion.
"It's not the hatchlings I'm worried about, remember?"
"The crowd are miles away, they won't see it either."
"Fine, fine, I'm coming, then," said Menolly, putting the hairbrush back on the dresser.
They headed out of the corridor, and to Menolly's great surprise, F'lar - of all people - was waiting right there for her.
"Sir," she began, "I'm sure you have..."
"No time to chat," said F'lar, not unkindly. "Mirrim wanted to take you in herself, but I told her we couldn't have a potential future Weyrwoman arriving on the Sands strapped to a half-grown green dragon, of all the things. Can you climb in those or do you need a hand up?"
"I wouldn't mind a hand," admitted Menolly, as she looked up at the imposing bulk of Mnementh towering above her. She never would quite get used to the size of the things, she thought. Although if she was to be a Weyrwoman, she supposed she would just have to.
Beauty popped into existence behind them and chirruped nervously as she was lifted into position on the bronze's back.
"Beauty, dearest, you know that you've got to stay away from me during the Hatching," she told the little queen, as F'lar made sure they were both correctly seated. "Now go and keep the others in line, that's a dear. None of you are to be on the Sands if you can help it, whatever you hear from me. Do you understand?"
The golden fire-lizard gave a chirp of assent, or at least that's what Menolly hoped that it meant, and disappeared as quickly as she'd come.
As she was set down by the Weyrleader, she saw jealous looks from several of the other female candidates who had arrived before her. Trying to ignore them, she took her place in the semi-circle around the golden egg. Having refused all of Mirrim's entreaties to go and have a look at it, even when Ramoth was apparently sleeping, she hadn't seen the thing up close before. It was larger than she had expected, and so smooth she could see reflections in its golden surface.
Between the humming of the dragons and the overwhelming sense of curiosity and longing from her fire-lizard friends, who all wanted desperately to be there with their mistress and that enormous golden egg, she hardly noticed the first eggs cracking behind her. "It's just a blue," she caught a murmur of, from the boys behind her. Apparently it was meant to be 'lucky' to have one of the bronze dragons hatch first. Given that most of the clutch would be green or blue, it was quite unlikely, although it had happened unusually often in Ramoth's clutches.
She did not have much time to deliberate the finer points of the Weyr's superstitions, however, as the golden egg began to rock from side to side. Some of the girls had turned around to watch the boys behind them, especially those with brothers or cousins on the Sands, but now all attention was turned on the young queen's attempts to escape her shell.
Menolly thought it was something of a pity that so much attention was placed on the queen's Hatching, for there were many matches being made behind them. Every few seconds there would be another cry of "His name is Theleneth!" or "Of course I will feed you, Donath, don't fret." Meanwhile the queen egg just rocked back, and forward, back, and forward, in the hollow that had been dug for it.
She was just daydreaming about Mirrim's Impression when the egg took an impressive dive and managed to roll right out of its cavity. Some of the more enterprising girls took off chasing it, Menolly in the lead, despite the heavy sandals flapping awkwardly about her feet. Several boys ducked out of the way as the egg seemed to gather pace, rolling right out of the main clutch area and finally cracking itself heavily against the edge of the Stands.
"Well, that's one way to crack an egg," said Menolly in her surprise, as she came to an abrupt halt maybe half a meter away, skidding slightly on the loose sand kicked up by the passing of the spectators.
I thought it was rather impressive, myself, echoed a voice in her head. This shell is rather thick. I don't suppose you could give me a hand?
Menolly started, and then gingerly took a few steps closer, watched nervously by the girls who had gathered in a new semicircle around the egg's resting place.
Oh, no, wait, I've got it, continued the voice, and two dainty golden paws emerged from the crack in the shell. Wrenching her prison apart, the little queen tumbled out onto the Sands. Ow. she observed. Not the most dignified of entrances. Now, there is some food out here, I hope?
"Of course there is," replied Menolly, still feeling rather dazed. There was a raucous chorus of approval in her head that was making it difficult to concentrate, and indeed a small blue figure and a couple of green flashes did occupy her peripheral vision for a moment as she felt Beauty's sharp rebuke calling them back. "But you still haven't told me your name."
Two of the girls who had been frozen in shocked disbelief were goaded into action by that admission. If the queen hadn't told Menolly her name, maybe she was still up for grabs? They lunged forwards out of the semicircle, only to be met by two very solid bronze bodies flying straight for their chests.
Meralith, said the young queen.
"Well, come right this way, Meralith," smiled Menolly, conscientiously ignoring the two girls who were now on their backs in the sand with an angry bronze firelizard perched atop each. She did lead her queen carefully through the empty outskirts of the Sands, rather than attempting to thread through the remaining chaos of the rest of the clutch.
Finally, observed Meralith with great relief, as she spied the piles of meat prepared for the hungry hatchlings. Menolly was feeling rather peckish herself, and wouldn't be surprised if she ate rather well at the Feast tonight after this. Unlike some of the others might, Menolly had no squeamishness about passing Meralith copious handfuls of the raw, bleeding herdbeast set out for them, pausing only to make sure Meralith had properly swallowed the first batch before handing her another.
I hear someone called Path, said the little queen, as she polished off a few final morsels. They are telling me that their rider wants to tell you something.
Well, go on then, Menolly encouraged her silently.
I don't understand, complained the golden hatchling. What does she mean by 'I told you so'?