an interesting night of guarding [lithle]

[Zen]

To say that Tanyrion had drawn the short ‘straw,’ as it were, would not be true. But he’d drawn one of the shortest and he immediately felt worn out when he learned what he was to be guarding. He hadn’t gotten much sleep since his little Green had hatched. Named Rorschach but nicknamed Rory, when she wasn’t asleep, the little Green was awake and demanding food. Unfortunately, she was more awake than she was asleep.

So when the man’s squad leader told him that he was on for beach duty, Tanyrion’s inward groan almost forced itself out through his mouth. The only catch, or so his squad leader said, was that he was out on the beach from late afternoon to the early night. Nighttime was for the whers—everyone knew that. But even this was too late for him, and he had yawned behind his hand even thinking about it.

Now, only two candlemarks later, Tanyrion had been on guard for just about a candlemark and a half. Rukbat was just beginning to dip down and Tany’s legs ached from walking back and forth in the sand. Watched over eggs when Semith was about as capable as ten Golds seemed like a crappy guard post. Sure, the squad leader had said it was all about guarding to make sure candidates didn’t sneak another peak at the eggs and to make sure that prisoners who’d escaped didn’t make it to the ocean. He’d never seen a prisoner escape this far yet, but apparently it could happen. Then Tanyrion had the brilliant idea to not exactly guard the eggs without watching them but instead guard the eggs with watching them.

His shift was ending, anyway, and he was rather glad that his shift had been so short (if grueling and tiring for his already tired body), and he stretched out his back, careful not to jostle the sleeping Rory in his belt pocket. Apparently, Rory’s favorite spot to sleep was the pocket, which was funny since that pocket was the same one he’d carried her egg in. She was a small creature, nearly too small to even be a Green—but oh was she a Green. If Bit had thought that Z’s Green had been clingy and in love, Rory seemed to love food and Bit himself, and wanted nothing more than to show Bit that she loved him. Bit was situated on his shoulder, staring down at the pocket Rory was in as if the hatchling inside was going to leap out and bite him on the nose. It was as much interest as Bit had shown in a firelizard since Milune’s Gold.

Tanyrion yawned and started toward the eggs. As he neared the stadium-like Hatching Sands, which were still on the beach but slightly above the level of the sea, he saw the first of the eggs. The one he could pick out the easiest was the Fe-Fi-Fo-Fum egg for its height, but he stayed back, drinking the sight in with eyes only, not hands. He’d already touched the eggs; now was the time that the eggs just waited until the right day to hatch. Tanyrion stuck his hands in his pocket and stood there, about a dragonlength from the Hatching Sands, with images of egg hatchings dancing in his mind.

[lithle]

There was a cot on the hatching sands, though it had not been there during the touching. Semith would, of course, not be leaving, and Leshta had no intention of leaving the gold alone during the night. Perhaps it was silly to be so protective of something so much larger than she was, but Semith was a delicate soul, and Leshta knew she'd let people walk all over her given half the chance. Or worse, let the damn Warden and his dull Yusuth onto the sands. Not under Leshta's watch.

No, indeed.

Cot or no, the night was not yet deep, and Leshta was not much of a sleeper, anyway. Left to her own devices, Semith slumbering gently, she was currently engaged in the task of feeding her two firelizards. Well, nominally hers. She had them only because Semith liked the things, and she never bothered to give them much more attention than what little was required to keep them alive. She kept hoping they'd go wild on her, but, as yet, had not had much luck.

She'd just offered a last bit of meat to Other Flit when the brown jumped between.

He'd noticed the other firelizards nearby and now circled above them, and their person, his eyes whirling slightly toward yellow. Thought they'd sneak on his person, did he? Oh, he'd see to that! Still circling, he began creeling loudly, before jumping back between to Leshta's side, scolding in the direction of the Guard.

"Oh, shut up, flit."

That's Other Flit. A sleepy voice corrected, and Leshta boggled at the fact that this was what her dragon chose to remember.

"I apologize," the Weyrwoman called out, her tone lacking it's usual edge, though she sounded perhaps a little tired. Stepping away from Semith she walked toward the Guard. "Stuck guarding the sands tonight, huh?"

Leshta did not have the most flattering of reputations at the Weyr. She could be short tempered, and she'd become more so since arriving at Warden's. But the reputation, if not undeserved, was not the whole of her. She could be friendly, when she felt such friendliness was merited, and for now, she seemed to think it was.

"You were at the touching," Leshta added, as the guard's features grew clearer in the low light.

[Zen]

To say that Tanyrion was surprised that the Weyrwoman approached him was less than the truth. In fact, Tanyrion was speechless for a minute. At first it had just been a brown flitter who jumped at him from between. That in itself had Rorschach up from sleeping in her pouch-pocket-thing and on Tany’s head, screeching at the Brown. Only a forced mental ‘quiet’ from Tany had her cutting her shriek short as if she’d been muzzled in mid-cry. Then the firelizard jumped between again and Rory settled down on Tany’s head protectively, drawing her tail across Tany’s face as she twisted once to settle onto his head.

But Tanyrion was surprised when the Weyrwoman appeared before him. He wondered whether he should bow to her like he felt impelled to. Or perhaps she was just a normal woman right now, coming toward him with lack of rank. He was confused and did not speak to her until after her second touch of speech.

Finally, Tanyrion decided that, yes, he would dip his head toward her and dip his head he did. “Ma’am,” he said politely, and Rorschach slipped forward on his head and scrambled for footing, leaving horrid scratches that would sting later on Tany’s scalp. He bobbed back up, nodding his head, “Yes, ma’am, I was at the touching.”

He lifted his hand to his head and took Rorschach from his head, holding her in his hand softly and bringing her to hold her out in front of him. “I don’t know if you remember, but I found a firelizard egg when we were unearthing the dragon eggs. The egg hatched into this little gal; named her Rorschach.” Rory glared up at the Weyrwoman, not knowing who she was and not caring. She hissed at the Weyrwoman, glaring at her and the dratted brown flitter who’d appeared before.

“How have you been, Weyrwoman? Comfortable enough on the Sands—should I send my firelizards to get something for you?” He asked a little awkwardly, not knowing how to act around an authoritative figure like this.

[lithle]

Other Flit knew Leshta well enough not to try and push the bounds of what was permitted too far. He'd settled on her left shoulder, and while he was clearly unhappy, he stayed silent, glaring pointedly in the direction of the unfamiliar firelizards. Flit, for his part, had stayed with Semith. Probably wisely. That was where Leshta had left the food. Leshta was doing her level best to pretend neither of them existed.

She smiled at the guard, gratified at his polite demeanor. Her power at the Weyr was nominal at best; she had a title and some half-hearted deference. She clung to what she was allowed. It wasn't for her sake, not really. But, disrespect to her was disrespect to Semith and that, Leshta would not allow. If Semith's children impressed to those inclined to show some respect to the gold, all the better.

"Ah, yes. Semith's little game." She did her best to appear interested in the little lizard, though her best was not in fact, all that good. At the very least, she didn't mind being hissed at. It was the behavior she expected. It was her fault the man was stuck with the creature. She should have insisted on checking the sands. If she had, the man's scalp wouldn't be wounded now. "Very pretty. I apologize if it caused you trouble. She enjoys firelizards."

This was true. Of course, Semith would probably also be fond of tunnelsnakes, given the chance. Or wild felines. Leshta had every intention of preventing her from making such 'friends'.

The man's inquiry after her comfort brought a more genuine expression. She grinned in the faint light, with open amusement. "I've got a nice cot and Semith and I both get dinner brought. I should be asking you whether you need anything, stuck standing guard like this," she said. Her tone darkened, though it still sounded somewhat amused, "Can't imagine any prisoners rushing the eggs, as we're going to be walking them out onto the sands voluntarily in a sevenday or so.

[Zen]

“There was no trouble at all, Weyrwoman, and there still is none.” Tanyrion said in Semith’s defense. The game was okay, and it had ‘won’ him Rorschach. He wouldn’t have liked it any other way, so there was no real need to apologize, especially since there had been a life on the line. Except someone else might have found her, and he hadn’t wanted that—didn’t want that for the world. “She’s just a little rowdy right now is all.”

“You never know,” Tanyrion continued with a shrug at the thought of prisoners rushing the eggs. “I mean, I rushed to the eggs.”

It was a joke, of course, and Tanyrion stuck his hands into his pants pockets and rocked on his heels. “I didn’t mean it,” he continued, “It was a joke. I’m sorry. This guarding has gotten to me, I guess.”

More than that, it was the sleepless nights Rorschach had caused Tanyrion to have that made him so out of it. He had to apologize, even if he hadn’t really said anything too bad. It was just a joke, but he wasn’t particularly sure how he was supposed to act around the Weyrwoman. The few times he had seen her, she’d been apart, as if she were in some caste of her own. Perhaps she was—weren’t they all? The prisoners stuck to the prisoners, the guards kept to the guards, and the dragonriders seemed to keep to the dragonriders.

“So you really don’t need anything,” he said, quieter, and he pulled a hand out of his pocket to scratch the back of his hand. He looked at the woman—she wasn’t particularly cute in most ways he thought of cute, as she was … pudgier than most. Oh, no, he wasn’t thinking about that was he? She was the Weyrwoman! He smiled, “Well, that’s good. I mean the fact that you’re being looked after.”

He lapsed into silence and then, suddenly he had to ask. “How do you like the prisoners being able to Stand for your Semith’s clutch?”