Difference between revisions of "Logs:OK; NOW!"

The ghost-feeling of vague cramping (though she'd finished her always ultra-light, short cycle a sevenday ago) finally was enough - along with Ilicaeth's stuttering dream images and emotions - to finally waken Alida from a once-sound sleep. She could taste the cloying edges of some dream she wanted to return to on the edge of her mental tongue, but - try as she did - she just couldn't quite fall off to la-la land again. Her tiredness - and paradoxically-irritating wakefulness, while practically everybody else in the Weyr likely slept - was frustrating...especially as it had no reason she could think of behind it. Even the vague feeling of cramping was pretty much gone, by the time the woman finally cursed, threw off her covers, and rose from her bed, grinding knuckles at her gritty eyes while yawning wide enough to perhaps engulf a firelizard.

« Do *not* do this ta' me... » Again. Ilicaeth's somewhat grumpy, heavily-drowsy baritone weakly scoured at the bottom of his human's mental door. They'd both had a long day, and needed their sleep...most especially the blue dragon, who was set to (joyfully!) fly sweeps with Glacier for the first time in just over two Turns. He didn't want anything (or anyONE) to ruin it for him...but even the normally blunt blue couldn't quite bring himself to openly lay the blame for *that* as his rider's feet. He was just too stoked to feel anything but pleasure...until *now*.

In a burst of frustration, Alida let down some of the highest of her inner 'walls' that preserved at least a bit of her precious independence from her lifemate (as Ilicaeth did with his own in regard to his rider), let him *feel* the darker, danker places in her being usually kept tightly shuttered. « Happy now?! » Grumble.

It was a very swift thing, and though Ilicaeth was too drowsy to take full 'advantage' of the opening, he did indeed sense that Alida wasn't having any of 'those' dreams/nightmares, nor anything troubling her that was too much out-of-the ordinary (for *Alida*, that was). « Fuck *no*. » Yawn. « Go drink some 'u that sleepy tea. » The small stash she'd bought from an herbalist one time while they were South. Just go the shit back to sleep so *he* could sleep.

Tea... Yes! Too groggy and irked to remember it, the now robe-clad blonde wandered over to her banked hearth, yawned any number of times while re-stoking the fire some, then moved to prepare her brew...while her blue started to head towards a doze, once more.

And then it tickled them both, though Alida felt it more distinctly, given her bond with her pet: the far-away sensation of somewhat sore innards, deep tiredness, utter relief, and a maternal satisfaction that bordered on fatuous.

Having just suspended her little pot a quarter-full of rainwater - which bore a floating baggie of tea leaves within it - over the low flames, Alida was unsure she was even experiencing those feelings...until her lifemate let off a sound vaguely reminiscent of a human groan in his couch. « I think I'm gonna' choke 'er... » Not that he really would ever harm the firelizard, but right *now*... Grrrr.

"Awww....Sweet fucking Faranth..." Alida groaned aloud both draconic and human irritation, running high now that the bluepair finally figured out where their odd bout of wakefulness stemmed from. « You gotta beat me to it, first... » the woman half-snarled to her lifemate, though not upset at *him.* « Where... »

Even as Alida groused out the inquiry, Ilicaeth let the sensations of 'home,' hot sands, and the oddly-skewed image of the lip of the galleries above filter into his partner's mind as she moved in stuttering steps towards her press. Oh thank that same Faranth for small favors! At least they didn't have to play hide-and-seek with her, this time; the eggs were right in their back yard. They could wait for a few days, let Pyrite calm her maternal vigor some, wait for shells to harden a bit more before sc...

Wham; Ilicaeth's sudden, firm, and slightly prodding negative hit her between brain stem and amygdala like a tiny, but sharp dart: one dragon queen was broody, another ready to rise any day.

"*Fuck*."

« Fuckity fuck fuck, even... » Ilicaeth chimed in grumpily with agreement with his human's sentiment, plus a dollop of his usual humor.

It took both of them 10 more minutes of moaning and groaning and bitching before they made it down to the entrance of the hatching grounds...Alida still in her heavy, woolen robe and shorts beneath, her feet shod only in her unlaced, old dragon-washing boots. By the time she slogged her way onto the first bit of golden sand, she was half covered in heavy splatters of mud, a quarter wet from the heavy, driving rain, and cursing under her breath at the shitty timing of this 'blessed event.'

As Ilicaeth eyed the 'Grounds for any sign of other dragons - all clear, for now! - Alida stilled herself inside, worked to make her body, face, and overall mood less growly, so as not to agitate Pyrite...and Mime, who was studiously watching his mate from a cooler perch atop the Gallery railing. Once she'd gotten herself more firmly in hand, Alida - with Ilicaeth guarding her back - proceeded to step slowly, non-threateningly towards the firelizard 'NICU' while murmuring to and making soothing sounds at Pyrite. She didn't need, or want words to communicate with her pet: they were close enough empathically (despite the blonde's casual attitude towards her pet in public) that emotion was the superior method.

Mhm. Superior method. That was Ilicaeth's slightly-mocking frame of mind as - an hour and a half later - he bore his irked, sloppy, and now slightly-bloody human back to their weyr for the final time that too-early morning. Free for anyone to see later in that day, upon the backs of the woman's hands were small, razor-sharp little furrows where Pyrite 'scolded' her human when the bluerider made the mistake of moving too fast or too indelicately for the anxious momma's tastes... and, for once, Alida had to take it all as stoically as possible. Faranth bless Ilicaeth, who once again did dual duty in tempering both his rider's inherent testiness and the firelizard's protectivness, or nobody but the blue would have likely made it off the Sands in one relative piece...possibly including those soft little eggs.

Now, back in their weyr - Pyrite chittering softly as she watched *her* human lay the final ovoid of little gold's clutch of 8 eggs out delicately within a basket nearly full of hot sand settled upon a little table - both human and dragon could finally give deep sighs of relief that the most onerous part of this task was over. It was a good thing that Taikrin rarely required Glacier to start crazy-early at any duty; Alida could still sneak in another hour and a half of sleep before she needed to slog down to the baths, then breakfast, and finally off to her duty. Her current muddy and bloody-scratched state didn't matter a hoot, as Ilicaeth would be her couch and pillow.

It was just as rider and dragon started to doze off that the forgotten kettle of tea boiled over within the hearth, sending Pyrite into obnoxiously-loud fits of angry hissing and frenzied chittering, her red-eyed outrage not calming until Mime offered to 'post guard' beside her as the queen settled again.

It only took Alida an hour to accomplish both calming and clean-up. Of *course*, Ilicaeth slept.