life is short but sweet for certain [Hatching Feast!]

[Tegz]

Did anything smell better than food at a hatching feast? Yes, if it happened to also be the freshest and most delectable goods from the very first batch of the day from Fort's kitchens - a benefit to an early morning hatching to be sure.  Of course it wasn't as if they weren't prepared; no expense had been spared, and the past few days of hard slaving over hot stoves would pay off now, with full bellies and happy faces and perhaps a few wagers to make good (or bad) on.

The raised table at the front was set aside for those with the knots for it, but certainly when it came to the feasting, all tables were equal and the Weyrleaders, Mastercrafters, Lord and Lady Holders (bar Fort of course) and the like would not have the choicest portions simply due to rank. No, at this feast the lowliest drudge would eat like a Lord, and the newest Weyrlings would soon be as sated as their draconic counterparts.

The long tables practically shone from polishing but to notice that, one would have to ignore the great platters laden high with all the best cuts of meat accompanied by a peppery gravy for those who were inclined to slather it on, pleasantly spiced tubers and greens, breads baked from various grains with that pleasantly crunchy outside and soft and hot inside, enough fresh fruit to suggest the Weyrleaders and Headwoman must have done some timely bartering to provide such fare after a long winter, hearty stews, flavourful soups, sweet and chewy nut bars, bubbly pies that simply burst with flavour, and pastries of all flavours and fillings one might imagine.   

This was, after all, a Fort hatching, and it heralded a new dawn, a bright future, and a united weyr, with thirty-four new dragonriders to celebrate and congratulate.

[Luka]

Why do you worry? You have fussed enough. Show him how lovely you are. It's not that easy. He's bound to be surrounded by Lords and such. Not to mention the Weyrwoman, who was no great fan of the young goldrider. She'd slipped out of the hatching before the last eggs had hatched simply to have time to ready herself and she still felt, looking at her reflection, that there was something left to do. Luka sighed softly and took another look at herself in the mirror before declaring herself ready.

Her dark hair had been fashioned into a messy bun with a loose braid carefully pinned back. Curled tendrils were left free simply to frame her face, highlighting the fine and almost severe set of her cheeks. She had done nothing to rouge her pale cheeks nor had she painted her lips. Her dark lashes stood out as she lowered her eyes, as if practicing a demure smile in the mirror. It helped perhaps that she wore an incredibly lovely new dress. It had only been finished under the wire, but Yvette had done herself proud. The bodice was a pale shade of lavender and fitted tight to accentuate her slim build while amber lace and ribbon edged the sweetheart neckline to draw attention to what bosom she did have and up to her graceful neck encircled in the necklace Wil'm had given her. At her waist the skirt flared out with a considerable fullness which promised even while walking to move with ease in twirling. Embroidery in that same golden thread appeared at her hem and waist. The finest point, however, was the part that had been a surprise for Luka. The back was cut open in a wide 'v', showing a swathe of pale skin down to the very end of her spine, with amber ribbon lacing up.

Her fingers brushed one more down the front of her bodice, nails drawing across the embroidery with an interest that bordered on adoration. She picked at it gently and then tapped at some beading that been dressed along to catch the light. She would make a statement, even wearing knots that signified her as a weyrling, that much she was sure of. I'll be back early enough to get in your oiling love. In return she got only an amused rumble and an image drudged up for her memory that already had the young woman blushing. She required no rouge if the blush kept up coloring her cheeks.

Luka's arrival at the feast was quiet, tucked into a group of young lordlings and their ladies. Moving with a sense of refinement she didn't typically feel, the goldrider shifted into the crowd. A wineglass was the first order of business and the next would be to find the Weyrleader, eventually anyway. A smile touched her lips and drew light into her face despite the whispers she seemed to always incur. Pretend to enjoy the attention.


[Thanks to Tink who drew the pretty dress Luka wears! I did alter it a little [in my description of it], making the embroidery and ribbons a more amber color, but I loved the design and hope you all do too! So more people commission Yvette.]

[Wil'm]

Thirty four new dragons. The newest class of weyrlings at Fort, and Forts first True clutch. It would get some of the pressure off of the elder class, turn eyes from the nearly grown weyrlings who would be graduating to Wingriders soon enough, to the freshly hatched, knobby knee'd hatchlings. Not that the eyes of the Weyr bothered him, but for some it was a constant weight on their backs. Now, though, even they had something to watch, someone to amuse them from afar. But nothing those hatchlings could do would stand up to this one night of people watching. And it couldn't have come at a better time in his opinion. The senior weyrlings could enjoy themselves tonight, with the exception of excess. And what was the fun of a feast without being able to drink, any how?

People watching was exactly what Wil'm was doing at that very moment. With a glass of wine in his hand and a shoulder planted against a wall, his dark mocha gaze slid slowly around the great hall. There was every intrigue of the Weyr to see tonight, all in one place, plus the added bonus of those lords and ladies from outside the Weyr. The interaction of those two types might yet prove to be the best part of this whole night!

Though the entrance of a certain goldrider sure did alter the slow and steady appraisal of the crowd. He was still a bit surprised by the way she could draw his attention from just about anything, from clear across the room. Pleasure fluttered in his chest at the sight of his gift draped about her throat, and the fact that it looked just as good as he had imagined it would on her. Her dress was something new, as well. Something he doubted she would have ever worn before impressing the lovely Ariyamuth. It really was quite amazing to think back on the people, the children, they had been just shy of a turn before. So much had changed since then, so much had been lost and gained...

[Sorilea]

Unlike Fort’s last hatching, Sorilea couldn’t just quietly slip away.  No she was the Senior Weyrwomen and her appearance (or lack of appearance) would be noted by everyone.  So directly after the hatching, the middle aged women quietly slipped back to her Weyr and changed into the new dress she had had made in Fort’s colors.  The black and gold dress was elaborate and uncomfortable, but it was fitting the station of Senior Weyrwomen. 

Sweeping into the carven, she smiled and bowed her head to those that greeted her before picking up a glass of wine and finding an area to plant herself in.  She wasn’t too good at the whole mingling thing, she hoped being visible enough for others to come to her would be good enough for the crowd. 

OOC:  Note the dress looks like that but it is less “full” and can be worn without the hoop shirt. Also, it doesn’t have the “cap” on it.   

[Shilo]

Late, late late! She was going to be late if she didn't hurry up and get herself dressed! She'd shooed poor Ren out the door as soon as the humming had started, demanding good seats and space enough to get herself dressed. The later was taking more and more time as her belly began to swell, leaving many of her clothes unsuitable for outside the weyr, or unwearable all together. Thankfully, the hatching had gone smooth enough, as close to plan as one could hope when hatching dragons were involved. Snuggled up under some liberated furs with Rensire, the pair had watched the little ones hatch, Impress, and be ushered off the sands to feed and bed their new bonds.

She'd leaned in to kiss Ren's cheek as the last of the clutch made his way towards the food, a rather pretty little bronze who seemed to have a solid head on his neck. They needed that, more solid, steady bronzes. "You ready for food, love?" After those first few weeks, her appetite had returned with a vengeance. She was often putting away as much as her brother at every meal, and sometimes finding herself in need of a snack between meals. A hatching feast sounded like the perfect way to start the day, even if it wasn't precisely morning any longer.

[A'dair]

Thirty four new dragons!? A solid first clutch for their new Sr Gold! No queenling, but then they didn't really need four, now did they? Those that they did have where a nice even balance, and ideal clutch if he did say so himself. And with only one injury, it was a resounding success! Now he sat with an ale in one hand, while the other was occupied by a very excited Carmine. His little queenling had been so amazed and overjoyed to have been allowed to watch the Great One's clutch hatch, and to watch as the baby Big Ones Impressed to their lifemates. He'd had to keep a solid hand on her though most of the hatching, for fear she might decide she could impress one of the hatchlings as her own, and likely get herself eaten!

Now, though, she was happily crooning and chittering on the shoulder of his royal blue festive tunic, sweet as one of Lucket's bubbly pies. She'd stolen a meatroll off his plate already and seemed to have a new interest in his ale tonight. She was keeping him just enough on his toes that he hardly noticed as an all too familiar form slipped into the hall. Tall dark and handsome would be the way even most men would describe the stranger from High Reaches. Though the three words might vi for dominance as each described him  to a T on their own. Though the bluerider was bound to notice the man in black soon enough, and if not him, than Shilo would certainly alert the whole Weyr to the mans presence.

[Rensire]

"Ah thought yah'd nevah ask." The whole event had lasted long enough that the herder's stomach was all but weeping at its emptiness and he knew sooner rather than later he'd need to head out for chores. His herd didn't much understand the whole "holiday" one was supposed to enjoy during a hatching and he didn't much seem to disagree. Still, he wasn't about to pass up a feast either. He'd taken to watching Shilo like a hawk during meals to make sure she got enough and there would be more than enough for anyone. Sneaking her seconds and perhaps thirds would at least be easier. Maybe he could get away with it before she noticed.

The hall was already hopping by the time they'd wound their down to it, but that didn't seem to slow Rensire down. He led Shilo by the hand and found them a seat across from A'dair. "Mornin' A'dair." He gave the other man a nod and smiled at the sight of Carmine behaving herself so prettily on the man's shoulder. Running a hand through his unkempt hair the herder grinned and cast an eye around for the first subject that he'd devour. Platters of succulent meats caught his eye and his stomach gave an enthusiastic rumble.

"Keep an eye on her will ya'?" Giving the young woman a kiss on the cheek he danced off to rustle the pair up enough food for four.

[Tegan]

It was something of a novelty to be able to walk into the hatching feast under her own power without the aid of a crutch, and without having to wonder if she was going to collapse the next time she took a step.  Tegan had to admit she appreciated and enjoyed the change, though she could hardly be angry about having Impressed to Anath that day, even if he had inadvertently mauled her.  The wound had healed, and though she had a pretty wicked scar from it, there'd been no lasting damage.  Unless you counted being Impressed to Anath, which she thought some people might.

Ah well.

Though the vast majority of the party goers were dressed in their Gather finest, Tegan was wearing... well, clothes.  She didn't own any dresses, wouldn't own any, in fact, and as she was a Weyrling with literally no family in the current Pass, funds to buy any sort of fancy clothing were pretty much impossible to come by.  Not that she'd buy them anyway.  She had managed to scrape together a few marks doing transport duty and delivering messages and the like, but it seemed like such a waste to spend them on clothes.  Besides, she had a perfectly serviceable outfit that came from the Weyr's stores, and if anyone thought she was underdressed or ought to be in a dress, well, let 'em say something.  They could take a long walk off a short cliff.

The smells of breakfast made her stomach grumble, and immediately Tegan tried to make a beeline for the food.  It was harder than it sounded, what with all the Weyr and what seemed half of Pern crammed into the dining cavern.  And of course she was but a lowly Weyrling, so there weren't many people willing to just step aside--until she elbowed them in the ribs once or twice.  She had bony elbows, so that tactic was particularly effective.  Then--food!  Ah, wonderful food, and just look at all of those sweet rolls...

[J'sin]

He'd gotten Zabadath to a place in the barracks, and then he'd hurried, he'd rushed, he'd sat impatiently while the Healers did their thing, he'd lurched back to get hastily changed into some borrowed finery - ill-fitting, but black at least - and now J'sin had arrived at his own Hatching feast, proudly sporting the knot of a bronze Weyrling and not-so-proudly sporting a crutch.

From knotless to Weyrling in a few short weeks - and bronze, no less!  He hoped Mikhen choked on it.  That thought had him taking a not-so-furtive  and rather-wary look around to see if the putative 'Lord Holder of Fort' was here, though, just in case.  Didn't look like it yet, and it seemed J'sin had beaten a lot of the other Weyrlings here, too.  Good.  It wouldn't have done to show up last, not with lots of good food on the line.  Once he'd have been fashionably late, but no more - for now, at least.

[Eliora]

Eliora hadn't wanted to go to the feast.

She wasn't anti-social, but it was early, and once Linliath had been lulled (grudgingly, as the green had been fussing about wanting to come along to the Feast) to sleep, she'd felt dead tired.  It made sense:  The Hatching had been early, and it hadn't been without exhaustion.  Being mentally attached to a dragonet wasn't something to just shrug off, and she was nursing the beginnings of a headache... But whether it was from the early wake-up call or dealing with Linliath, she had no idea.

As such, she would have been content to simply curl up in her new bunk and go to sleep... But Linliath would have nothing of it.  If the green couldn't go, then Eliora had to go for her... She wanted to know what the feast was all about, after all!  After all, dragonets simply ate from buckets.  She couldn't imagine why humans would do it any differently.

And so Eliora found herself in the best clothes she owned, which to say was a nice(r) red tunic and pair of trousers.  She had never been one for dresses... After all, there wasn't much place for them in Candidacy, nor in the beastcraft.  But the moment she stepped into the living cavern, she felt distinctly underdressed.  The last thing she wanted was for peoples' first impression of her to be "that frumpy greenrider", and as soon as that thought crossed her mind, she wondered why she even cared.  She'd never cared what people thought of her before.  But this?  This was... different.

She was to be a Dragonrider now.  A protector of Pern.  But she was also a greenrider, and she knew how the world outside of the Weyr more or less viewed people like her.  Greenriders were the least of the dragonriders.  Weak people and boy-lovers rode green.  Yes, she knew all about the stereotypes.  She'd been a Crafter before she'd been a Candidate, after all.

Weak.  Hmph.  She didn't see any of those folks sittin' on a dragon's neck, no matter what color.

She took a moment to push her fingers through her hair in an attempt to get it into some semblance of style before she just as quickly gave up.  Eliora scanned the crowd, and she was able to quickly pick out Rensire... But he seemed to be with a lady friend, and so she'd hang back for the moment.  She didn't want to spoil anything.

She had to admit, being here alone felt.. Lonely.  There were plenty of guests here, important people from outside the Weyr, family members of those who Impressed... It made her heart sink a little.   Any family she might have had to congratulate her had died long ago.

Eh.  No matter.

She shrugged her shoulders and went to get food, and in the process accidentally bumped shoulders with a young man-- A young man with a crutch.  Bad aim on her part.

"Sorry 'bout that,"  She said off-handedly, and then glanced at his knots.  Oh.  "...And congratulations to ya, too."  She couldn't remember his name.  Hopefully, she wouldn't be called on to recall it.  Frowning, she gestured at his leg.  After all, she hadn't seen the accident happen; she and Linliath had been long gone when all that had transpired.

"What'd you do?"  She asked simply.

[Amaryn]

For Eliora and J'sin   

"Out of the way, dimglow." There was nothing of her usual saccharine sweetness today, and besides, Amaryn could see no particular benefit to making nice with some clod of a greenriding weyrling who was clearly already bent on giving those who rode green a bad name. Bringing down the side so to speak. It was a hatching feast, and she had shown up doing her level best to hide any ounce of femininity that presumably existed under what was, in Amaryn's eyes, a shapeless and boring red tunic and trousers?

It was quite the contrast to Amaryn's own ensemble, as she'd chosen today to show how very well she could clean up. She hadn't really had the chance since she'd been at Fort after all, considering she'd last arrived during another hatching and had still been directly in her riding gear during the celebrations. Riding gear, she might add, that was far superior  to what the woman in her way apparently considered her gather best. At least in Amaryn's opinion.

Her dress alone was entirely the remarkable sort, white over gold, cut low and leaving arms bare. The inky cascade of her hair provided a striking contrast to the white of her dress, and the green of her eyes matched the green stone that served as a focal point of her necklace, which also matched her knots rather nicely, thanks very much. 

The slim, tall young woman, did shoot a cursory glance at the weyrling with the crutches, which turned into a longer, more speculative look not just for noticing the presence of bronze in his knots, but in fact for something in his features, a suggestion of bloodline and of bearing. So naturally she made a decision to linger. She would plant a seed or two now in case she was so inclined to harvest the fruits of her labour in the future.

Queue the theatrical gasp of a young woman with an agenda.

"I hadn't realised your injuries were quite so severe from my vantage point up in the stands. You're so very brave, I'm sure a lesser man would be bedridden."  The smile took on a somewhat more flirtatious hint, and the voice just enough warmth to suggest that they shared a joke, an intimacy. "I'm sure if you scar, it will suit you well. Are you much marred under that tunic, bronzerider?"
 
Green eyes shifted slightly to fix upon the other young woman, and Amaryn smiled blandly.

Just making friends. And statements.

The usual.

[Eliora]

Out of the way, dimglow?  Now wait just one second...

"I'm not goin' anywhere, miss."  Eliora stated blandly... And almost instantly, she regretted it.  Not because she didn't think this woman deserved to be told a thing or two, but because she had an inkling that this woman was above her in rank.  Actually, she knew it for a fact.  Despite this,  Eliora knew how to dig her feet in like the most stubborn of runners... And when this woman tried to move past her, the Weyrling refused to give way.  She was a pretty solid girl, despite her lack of height.  "I was here first, see."

And as far as Eliora was concerned, that'd be the end of it.  She tended toward being argumentative, but even she knew that starting a fight during a Hatching Feast--Her hatching feast in particular-- Was not a good way to get a good name around the Weyr.  She didn't want to be in trouble with the Weyrlingmaster before she'd even had her first  real lesson.

That didn't stop her from watching the other woman, however.  Eliora had sharp eyes, and she didn't miss how the woman's gaze lingered on the other Weyrling's knots.  She didn't bother hiding the obvious roll of her eyes.

"I may be a dimglow,"  She began dryly, her voice flat and her eyes devoid of any emotion,  "But isn't it a bit taboo to be hunting Weyrlings?"  Hussy.   Alright, so maybe she couldn't resist prodding just a little bit.  But this woman had called her a dimglow... It was only fair.

[J'sin]

Bumped into, J'sin staggered; he put his foot down and then regretted it, but other than going two or three shades paler - quite an achievement - he didn't react visibly to the pain.  "Thank you," he murmured to the Weyrling with green in her knots, and then he stiffened at Amaryn's remark.  Something told his hindbrain he was in the presence of someone who could be truly dangerous, and he'd no desire to become lunch.  Or for anyone else to, either.

"Ladies," he greeted both greenriders, with an inclination of his head and an air that displayed accustomed status even if his clothing definitely didn't.  "My apologies if my glow seems dim, Greenrider.  It was quite a shock to find that I'd be one of the guests of honour at the Hatching feast - and I couldn't miss it, even with nothing to wear!"  To Amaryn in particular, he said, "But your dress, my dear Dragonrider, is simply divine.  The cut and cloth suit you perfectly, and your necklace brings out your eyes.  I swear, I feel a mere shadow in your radiant presence, and even less suitably-dressed than the Weyrwoman herself has already made me feel.  You make me regret that I am but a Weyrling, with a new-hatched dragon and a great deal of hard, dirty work ahead."

If J'sin was in luck, flattery would work on this particular breed of danger - and deflect her attention from the other Weyrling, too.  "You'll just have to give me a referral to your tailor."  Yet another day in courtly circulation, even if he was a bit rusty.  He could only hope that his fellow Weyrling was quick enough on the uptake to get food and get out of the way before the full Rider came to her senses after having had the flattery laid on with a trowel.

[A'dair]

A'dair shifted to look up and over at Ren and Shilo as the pair approached. A large grin spread slowly across his face at the sight of his sister and her mate. He'd always liked Ren, but now that the man was showing just how much he loved little Shi... Well, let just say that he'd been elevated in A'dair's eyes for that bravery. "And a fine morning it is! With a whole grip of fresh new weyrlings to boot" He chuckled, oddly pleased and chatty this morning. He was much more like he had been before the Weyr had jumped between times and he'd lost nearly everything that he loved.

He pulled a chair out with the toe of his boot and motioned with his ale "Have a seat. I'll keep an eye on your baby momma, you bring back the food" He chuckled and leaned over to kiss Shilo's cheek when she settled into the seat beside him. "You look like you could eat a whole herdbeast"

Chuckling, Shilo patted his knee and watched Ren work his way towards the food tables "I feel like I could eat a herdbeast or two right now. The baby's growing like a damn gold hatchling! I'm not sure how much of this belly is just ne being so small, and how much is a big baby..." It was almost like she was growing her own egg inside!

[Rensire]

It was a dangerous endeavor, trying to get oneself around the tables to pick at just what a body wanted. He was in the process of dipping around a particularly rotund older gentleman when his blue eye's caught sight of a familiar face with some unfamiliar knots. Rensire's smile seemed to stiffen on his lips and set it stone rather than letting it drop altogether. He faltered and shifted around the man who was still picking over some dried fruits that had been brought back up with syrups and wine. In doing so of course, he managed to almost get properly ribbed by a certain brownrider looking for her own meal. "Ah come on now, Ah'm only jus' healin'. Don' be ribbin' me now Tegan. Get some food an' join us! " Rensire chuckled and gave the girl a wink as he plucked a couple sweetrolls from the plate Tegan had been trying to get to. He'd pass on them himself, but Shilo would appreciate them and with two laden plates in tow made it around to wear he'd seen Eliora's mop of hair pass in the crowd.

The newest little greenrider seemed to have already gotten herself into a bit of a tiff if what he did catch was anything to judge by and he almost snickered. "Oi, 'Lora - get yerself a plate and come eat with us would yah?" The herder gave the girl a nod, in hopes to get an acknowledgement to his invitation without having to get any closer. If nothing else he'd given her an out to skirt the tunnelsnake that was Amaryn. Woman had fangs, he swore it. His head gave a shake, putting on his best smile as he turned away to return with the fixings of a good feast for Shilo.

"First course mah lady." All but purring, Rensire set down the plate before the blonde and then set his next to hers. Slabs of still steaming meat, thick cuts of fresh bread, gravies and some sort of sweet mash - a good start to any feast to be sure. His own plate was much the same and he even managed to snag klah mugs as they passed on a tray. Breakfast was served!