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Impressed at White River Weyr
He would be needed to take care of her, eventually. Since she was not allowed to go between with her husband, when he died, there was little recourse but for her to ... simply put, she went mad. Blackstone's healers could do nothing but sedate her, and no one else really had anything to add.
Norris was displeased. He would have to take care of her, of course. But he couldn't do that at the weyr, and he surely couldn't do it if he Impressed.
The responsibility turned out to be more his unspoken superior, Lord Holder Spencer. In an eloquently worded message sent to Norris on the day that he was to Impress, Spencer told Norris that his mother would be well taken care of, in his hands. And Norris did not doubt the man's word. Since he had supplied records in tiny copy of Blackstone's hatchings and such, Spencer had wanted to reward him somehow.
Now, standing upon the hot sands of White River, Norris thanked Spencer silently. His mother would never have been able to forgive him for this.
The first six eggs were spectacular. A bronze, of course, was excellent for a start! Any weyr could do far worse-- in fact, the only better portent for a weyr's first hatching could be a gold! Blue, then brown, then a mess of three -- blue, green and white -- hatched. The seventh egg...
Norris attended it closely, because it was a large sized egg. Surely a bronze or some such would hatch from it! A brown head emerged, and Norris let out a held breath. But... When the rest of this hatchling emerged it turned a deep blue, how amazing! How ... How in the world would Norris explain this?
Instead of trying to explain, the dragon pounced upon Norris playfully and said it all in one mental breath: Here I am Norris! I am Miniocith!
Laughing, suddenly happy for the first time in several weeks, N'ris embraced his odd new lifemate warmly. "Miniocith... Brown and blue... Yes, I think I can live with that!"
He led the dragon away, noticing that he was at least as large as a brown hatchling, and not stunted in the least with his strange coloration. Not like the white, not like others which may hatch that day... N'ris was proud, and he knew that this dragon was the ONLY dragon for him!
Miniocith was particularly helpful, lowering his graceful head down so N'ris could apply the soft oiled leather to his neck. Snugly then, he put his foot up into the holding stirrup and climbed into the slight depression of a saddle.
It was not entirely different than riding a runnerbeast, N'ris thought at first. Admittedly, a very WIDE runnerbeast... But now the weyrling master insisted the dragons spread their wings and begin trying to actually fly. Their first hops and trials ended poorly for one or two of the blues and greens, but the larger dragons who had been growing into their adolescence well -- such as Miniocith -- spread their huge wings and --
"We're flying! Miniocith! You're doing it!"
Of course I am doing it, my friend! I could do no less for you!
It is beautiful in there. I like the bathing chambers! I like everything about this place!
Someone cleared their throat behind the dragon pair, and Minicioth raised his head, while N'ris turned quickly. "Ah, weyrleader?" N'ris said to the white-haired H'lis who stood with a couple other people at the edge of their new weyr.
"I wanted to welcome you to the fold, N'ris, Minicioth," the odd young man said, "and I wanted to warn you."
Furrowing his brows, N'ris got concerned. "What about?" He asked, wary.
"That Spencer is planning to bring your poor mother back to the weyr, introduce her to the dragon. He says to me that she is doing better." H'lis blinked his grey eyes, "I don't believe him, though. I think," he said turning, "that it's another clever ploy for him to gain you back. Make sure that you're still sending him reports and such."
N'ris sputtered. "I --" but then he slumped a bit. He didn't have to ask how the man knew, he was just as sneaky as any Lord Holder, and twice as perceptive about it. "I understand. Don't you think you could stop him? I mean... I love my mother, and I've lost my father, do *you* think that she's better?"
H'lis looked at the dragon, and at N'ris. "No. I doubt it. But you'd have to confront him yourself, since you *are* his pet. You may do what you like, Blackstone doesn't have the kind of secrets that I must worry about sending to him. But I *do* worry that you'll be distracted in your duties and your work. You settle this, N'ris." On that, H'lis exited the weyr, leaving his dark and light book ends of Spring and Ebony to stare accusingly at the new wing rider for the recordskeepers.
What am I going to do about this? N'ris thought halfway to his dragon.
I would like to meet her if she is coming. I know that shocks you, but she is part of you! And I love you. Perhaps you could turn it away from this Spencer man and to good instead.
N'ris looked up at his big brown-blue dragon. With an appreciative nod, he smiled and said, "you just may be right!"
They are also participating in the hidden bicolor flight at Tripaldi weyr!
