Difference between revisions of "Logs:Standing Idly By"

There are still shards of scattered shells on the sands, the sands still disturbed by Candidates and hatchling both treading upon them. Yet currently, it is occupied by one queen grown heavier with eggs, pacing along the railing between sands and galleries as she supervises her rider's clean up. Lilah has long since shed her jacket and much of anything else, sweat drawing along her skin as she sifts through for those shells and brings them back to a bucket specifically for this purpose. This, likely, could be done by Candidates or drudges, but for the moment, it seems both rider and dragon are happy to do it themselves.

Even in the wake of tragedy, or the expectation of more eggs, duties still have to be performed; Hematite's wingsecond has been out on sweeps, and so when Liesanth deposits him on the sands, C'stian is still wearing his flight leathers. He strips strips out of the jacket, draping it over his shoulder as his bronze lifemate moves quickly over towards the barrier to join Eliyaveith. After a moment, C'stian moves out onto the sands and begins gathering shards as well, apparently deciding he might as well help. As his path takes him nearer the junior weyrwoman, he offers a nod and a, "Lilah." to test the waters.

A low, warm rumble marks Eliyaveith's greeting for Liesanth, the restless queen finally drawing still only to rub herself against the bronze as he draws close, nose nuzzling neck. Lilah straightens from the sands, a piece of shell in hand, and glances first to the paired dragons there before sliding a look to C'stian. "You don't have to do that," is what she answers to that tested waters. "She's just--." « They will come; we need to be ready, » the queen speaks to both goldrider and her brother both, though not to C'stian, alas.

Liesanth happily nuzzles Eliyaveith back, then twists his neck back to more closely examine her growing heaviness. The winds of his mind-touch are filled with a sort of protective pride; he helped do this! « We will be, » he promises his queen. His rider, meanwhile, shrugs at Lilah. "It feels good. Doing something, I mean. Losing yourself in work helps you chase away tragedy." A lesson from Healer Hall, no doubt: after all, any apprentice healer gets exposed to losing a patient now and then. It's just harder when the patient is only newly born. "How's she taking it?" A glance to Eliyaveith, even if the question is perhaps a thinly veiled query into Lilah's own well-being.

Eliyaveith is more than willing to allow Liesanth to examine his handy-work, settling wings against her back and tucking them away as he does so. « We will be. We must be sure that the rest of our family is as well, » holds its own note of sadness, especially as C'stian asks that question. She takes it better, at least, than her rider as a muscle jumps in Lilah's jaw as it tightens. "She's fine. It's-- We ordered the wings to ride Search today," she tells him flatly. "She worries that it could happen to theirs. She won't listen when I tell her I've never actually heard of it happening before outside of the songs and records, and I doubt it'd happen again." A pause, before she adds, almost talkative if sharp, "Lightning never strikes the same spot twice."

"Or if it does, it happens years apart. Not right after the first strike," C'stian offers, in reassurance. "And I heard about the Searchflight. It's caused muttering, of course. That if we had a proper flight beforehand, if we'd had more Candidates, it wouldn't have happened." Now it's the bronzerider's jaw that's clenched in anger; gossip second-guessing choices is bad enough, but doing so in the wake of a tragedy is particularly bad. Liesanth, meanwhile, rests his head against Eliyaveith. « They will be! They are Smart; they will know what to do, » he assures the gold, with deeply-felt -- if possibly misplaced -- confidence in their riders.

Eliyaveith's agreement comes in the blanket of warmth that is ever her answer, though it turns a touch distant as she continues with, « And we must hope that they, » she doesn't need to say who, they are quite clearly identified by the bond they both share with them, their dam and sire, « are not saddened further. That they are proud. » "Maybe it wouldn't have. Maybe we would have found the right Candidate--." But Lilah only picks her way to that bucket with sharp movements to throw her shell in, adding flatly, "And maybe what-ifs don't do a sharding thing for us, now. We couldn't have known. We aren't even the first Weyr to withhold a proper Search."

"That's the thing about what-if's," C'stian mutters, gathering up another piece of shell himself. A larger one, suitable as a sort of makeshift platter to hold some of the smaller bits in. He begins to do precisely this, gathering the smaller pieces. "They never really give you answers; all they can do is drive you mad and feed the gossips." Liesanth, oblivious to what-ifs, nudges Eliyaveith lightly. « They will be the Proudest, » he promises. « Because the eggs will be the most Beautiful. »

« As long as they are strong and safe and happy, they can be as ugly as they want, » Eliyaveith answers, though she gives in to that nudging to finally settle into the sands and the curled embrace of Liesanth, nudging back at him as she settles. She adds, her warmth turned soft, « They would be safer if I could keep them inside me, forever. » "Then don't bring that gossip to me," Lilah snaps, slightly, abandoning her own work to turn to watch C'stian. "I don't care what they are saying, about that or Search or Eliyaveith's eggs--. I don't care. And if you cared, you and Hematite would stop them from it." How, exactly, she doesn't offer.

"Hematite's one hell of a wing, Lilah, but I don't think we can control the Weyr's gossips. I mean, what, should I just start punching people who spread stupid rumors?" C'stian's question almost seems genuine rather than rhetorical. He works so hard to sit on his temper most times; cutting loose might almost be nice. He makes his way over towards the bucket, depositing the shells, and then turns back to face Lilah. "That'd be a lot of punching; I think my hand might give out." Liesanth, however, seems mildly distraught at the idea of ugly eggs. No, their eggs have to be the best! Still, he offers to Eliyaiveth, « We will keep them safe. » After all, he won a flight and they made eggs. He can do anything!

"You could do anything except stand idly by. But that is what you do, isn't it, C'stian?" challenges Lilah to his response, rhetorical as it is with a cutting gesture of her hands. "You sit idly by. It's what you did to Nala, it's what you did during weyrlinghood, it's--." Eliyaveith's low thrum of warning cuts her rider off, even as she cuddles closer to Liesanth to nuzzle him at his distress and her rider's. « Of course you will, » agrees the queen simply, encouragingly.

Liesanth is calm, settling in with the gold. This is good. But the chill of unease touches his mental winds, as he feels his rider's growing anger. Anger which quickly boils over. "Everyone always asks me to sit aside. I tried to intervene with Nala, and she pretty much told me not to fight her battles for her!" C'stian snaps, some invisible line having been crossed. The egg shards are forgotten now, as he scowls towards the goldrider, arm flung wide to encompass the Weyr. "Shards, you demanded it when we were Candidates, if you remember! 'You never met me,' weren't those your first words to me? Well, fine. I'm tired of being yelled at for it." He turns, jacket still flung over his shoulder, towards the galleries. "I'm done listening to people who tell me to butt out, to sit aside. You want intervention, then I'll intervene!" Faranth alone knows what he's planning, as he starts to stalk towards the galleries and the exits beyond.

Lilah's dark gaze drags after C'stian as he storms out (so usually reserved for herself), to the sound of a gentle chide on the part of Eliyaveith. The queen, however, will not be parted with her mate or the sands for the moment. Nor does the goldrider follow after C'stian, only staring with a hint of surprise.

It's clear that C'stian doesn't intend to turn around, either, whether or not Lilah follows. He's worked so hard for Turns now to keep that temper in check, with it only erupting a handful of times. Now, it seems, it's finally boiled over and he's going to go find something to do with it. Liesanth lifts his head long enough to watch his rider depart, and then settles back against Eliyaveith. For the moment, one bond trumps the other.