Post by Zen on Jan 6, 2018 3:02:32 GMT -5
Nimiath circled to come in for a landing and rumbled to her rider, We are not the only Searchers here. Kenessia glanced down at the blue dragon that was already on the ground, Wonderful. Shall we return another day? Nimiath questioned her rider, but Kenessia shook her head, No, we're not wasting time. We have eggs on the Sands that will hatch any day and we need candidates, Nimi. I know that very well, the green responded, tilting her wings into a graceful landing. Kenessia dismounted and the blue's rider came around his dragon to face her.
A quick glance at her knots had a scowl on the man's lips, “What are you doing here?”
Nimiath eyed the man as Kenessia pulled off her flight goggles, “Searching.”
The bluerider did not like that answer, “Tidewalk is not beholden to Mavros.”
“No, there is very little beholden to Mavros, which why I'm here,” Kenessia agreed amiably, with a pleasant smile that seemed to annoy the bluerider further.
“You are bold, girl, trying to steal our candidates right in front of us,” he growled, jabbing a finger at her in dramatic emphasis.
Kenessia laughed, to which the man sputtered, but she spoke before he could form proper words, “Nimi and I do not steal anyone. We give them a choice to come with us or to their beholden Weyr. You should be thanking us for doing half your work for you.” Nimiath, for her part, ignored the quarreling humans in favor of brushing over the minds of those gathering to see the spectacle of dragons and otherwise milling about, going on with their days.
Novarel shifted some distance away, wanting to get closer to the dragons but a bit nervous about it. Besides, Delvish would probably yell at him anyway. Draped over his shoulders, his brown flit Dusty yawned contentedly. His nephew Delvirin was at his side while his father negotiated something or another that neither of them cared about.
Delvirin took a pace forward, looking back at him and grinning. Oh, so the kid wanted to play chicken with him, did he? In truth his nephew was only two turns younger than he was, they'd grown up together more like brothers or cousins at the very least. Rolling his eyes, he took two paces forward, closer to the dragons, “You're not going to win, kid.” He still liked to act like he was far older than he was sometimes, to play the 'uncle' part. It drove Delvirin mad.
“Pff! Will too!” he took two paces closer... and then one more, eyeing the green dragon they were growing steadily closer to.
“Oh, think you're real brave now, huh?” Novarel grinned and strode forward, hesitating only barely as he passed his nephew and stood a few feet in front of him. The green was still some distance away, but it was so large it didn't seem like it. Dusty raised his head to peer at his larger cousin with vague curiosity.
“Braver than you, old man,” the boy teased as he eased forward a bit, passing Novarel once more.
Novarel made a sound in the back of his throat and stared over at the green. Hm. He grinned and moved forward, stepping past Delvirin, he didn't stop until he was a mere arm's length from the dragon, his heart beating hard in his chest. With that, he turned and looked triumphantly back at his nephew, grinning, “Beat that, little boy!”
“Nova!” the sharp call made him flinch, jostling Dusty enough for the flit to chitter a scolding at him. It seemed his brother was finished with his negotiations. Delvish frowned at him and Delvirin scurried back toward his father nervously.
“Hah, I win!” his nephew had retreated, he won by default.
“Nuh uh!” the boy protested before his father silenced him.
“Nova, get back here! Act your age, for Faranth's sake!” his brother demanded.
“N-Nova...!” Delvirin all but squeaked, his eyes wide.
Novarel turned to see the Green looking right at him, her neck curved around so her giant head was but an arm's length in front of him. Dusty cheeped at her. The Green rumbled, You should not bite off more than you can chew, little one.
“H-huh...?” Novarel breathed as she talked to him.
Another rumble and Novarel realized she was laughing, her tone reassuring, You have nothing to fear from dragons. You twoleggers really don't taste good at all.
Novarel's eyes grew wide until someone laughed, not the dragon. A woman appeared around her side, “Nimi, don't scare the poor boy. I apologize for her, she gets like this sometimes.” Kenessia smiled at him and offered her hand, “Kenessia, and this is Nimiath.”
Stiffly, he reached out more on instinct than anything to grasp the woman's hand, “Novarel.”
Delvish strode toward the two, Delvirin tagging along after him, “I apologize, greenrider, for my brother's lack of manners. I hope he hasn't upset your dragon.”
Kenessia beamed at him, “Oh, not at all... quite the contrary, actually.”
“I turn my back on you for one moment and you-” the Tidewalk bluerider returned, striding around Kenessia's green hurriedly, but stopped when he saw who she was talking to, “Ah. Delvish, well met.”
Delvish did not seem to agree with the sentiment. His tone was clipped, “Well met, R'kal. Back on Search again I see.”
“Vicanth will be laying any day now. The Weyrwoman is eager to have a good choice of candidates for the clutch,” the bluerider replied pleasantly enough.
“Hm. One would think she might wait until the clutch was already laid in case of a Gold. It must have been quite the Flight for her to be anticipating such a large clutch,” Delvish replied dryly.
The bluerider cleared his throat uncertainly, then remembered Kenessia, and started connecting the dots. His gaze narrowed at the greenrider, “I do hope you're showing proper respect for the sons of Lord Divano, greenrider.”
“I assure you the only one being disrespected here so far has been me,” she replied with some amusement, eyeing the man briefly before turning back to the boy, Novarel. Well, his being a Blooded son might complicate matters. She glanced at Delvish, “Nimiath thinks your brother would make a fine rider.”
Novarel's eyes widened and he beamed at the rider, looking between her and his brother, “I can be a rider!?”
R'kal spat, “Don't you dare-”
Delvish turned toward the man sharply, “Excuse me?”
The bluerider sputtered, “A-ah, n-not your brother... that isn't....”
“R'kal, your blue has had ample opportunity to Search my brother... why haven't you ever mentioned this before?” Delvish raised an eyebrow at the man.
“Ah... that is...-”
“Be frank, R'kal. I already tire of this dancing about the subject,” Delvish growled.
“The... the Weyrleader thought it best... out of respect for your family and... certain... failings of the Weyr... that we not attempt to bring any of Lord Divano's children to the Weyr,” the bluerider admitted hesitantly.
Delvish let out a short laugh, devoid of humor, “T'mal continues to prove himself more intelligent than his predecessor.”
“She said I can be a rider, right?” Novarel broke in, completely uninterested in all this political nonsense.
Delvish shot him a warning look, “That is up to father.”
R'kal held up his hands, “Please, assure Lord Divano that Tidewalk Weyr has no intention of Searching his family. We would, of course, be pleased to have young Novarel, but, certainly... it isn't...-”
“Quit simpering already, R'kal,” Delvish eyed the bluerider with some amount of disdain, “Tidewalk Weyr needn't worry over it. Father would never allow any of his children to Stand there.”
“Ah... yes. Of course...,” R'kal sighed lightly.
“What? But she said-” Delvish cut his brother off.
“Mavros, however, he may yet consider,” Delvish turned his attention back to the greenrider.
R'kal was left with his mouth agape, “B-b-but... you are beholden to Tidewalk Weyr-”
“And Tidewalk Weyr was sworn to protect us from Thread, but it failed rather miserably, wouldn't you say, bluerider?” Delvish stared the man down, bitterness in his voice, “You are fortunate we still tithe and should be thankful for what we already give you after the devastation your ineffectual Weyr caused us.” R'kal clearly didn't know what to say to that, so Delvish dismissed him, “May you have better luck Searching the rest of the Hold, R'kal.”
Kenessia had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at the look on the bluerider's face. Without another word, the man turned and disappeared around Nimiath. Delvish rubbed at his temples lightly.
“Sorry to have cause you trouble,” Kenessia spoke finally.
Delvish waved her off, “If you would... come back with us, and I shall take Novarel to see what our father has to say about this.”
“Will he actually consider it? I don't want to waste anyone's time,” Kenessia spoke frankly.
“It is hard to say... he had a great amount of respect for Oria and what she tried to do.... He has not been overly vocal about it, but I know he supports Mavros's efforts. Whether he supports you enough to send you one of his children is not something I can say,” he looked over at his brother curiously.
“Wait, that rogue Weyr? That's Mavros, right?” Novarel asked, looking between them again.
“Nova...,” Delvish sighed, “Forgive my brother, I think he's impaired.”
“Hey!” Novarel glared at his older brother, but Delvish only smirked.
“Well... I would be happy to come with you, then,” Kenessia said, ignoring their little sibling banter but for the small smile that quirked her lips, “And you should know... Nimi has also pointed out the other boy.”
Delvish looked surprised, “Delvirin?” He looked down at his son.
“Wait, really?” Delvirin looked just as excited as Novarel had.
“No,” Delvish spoke firmly, trying to ignore the way the boy seemed to deflate at the word, “He's my only son....”
Kenessia smiled softly, “Very well.” She wasn't about to push the matter. It was quite clear where Delvish stood.
Novarel clapped the other boy on the back, “Hey, don't worry. One day you'll be Lord of Tidewalk and I'll be Weyrleader at Mavros and we can do whatever the shells we want.”
Delvish could only laugh and look back at Kenessia, “If father does agree, good luck with that.”