What Once Was [Rhaedalyn]

Amused interest sparkled through R’nya’s eyes. “I am sure he noticed you, my dear. Perhaps he was just shy?” His lips quirked, in part teasing the young woman, but his words were genuine; Rhaedalyn was hardly easy to miss, with her long and eye catching curls! She was shy though, and had a way of blending into the background to avoid notice that was not dissimilar to his own manner of avoiding attention – at least until D’ren had brought it crashing down on his head, and Aradissicath, in her own way had done the same to Rhaedalyn. “Sometimes less is more, my dear,” R’nya added quietly, referencing her comment about friends. Better to only have a couple that were there when you needed them, than a hoard that had about as much use for you as whers did for wings.

A slight nod was given to Rhaedalyn’s quiet statement, an acknowledgement of the truth within the words. Since it was not a question, R’nya did not point out that he was aware of that, and that he felt no shame in remembering the past. He was just less than pleased when it screwed with his head – also something he was not particularly keen on sharing. Therefore, he remained silent, staring absently down at his knees, as Rhaedalyn seemed to sink into her own silence of thought. The bronzerider didn’t fidget or shift as he sat, silent and thoughtful, almost forgetting the company that was not so far away on the other side of the couch; he jumped slightly when she spoke again, lifting tired eyes to look at the girl with fading surprise and a slowly developing thoughtful expression.

“Impressing Xyreith.” R’nya spoke lowly, his expression altering drastically to one of remembered delight and love, widened blue eyes seeing nothing as he stared past Rhaedalyn with a vague smile. “I was just shy of fifteen,” she had not asked for details, but he could feel the curiosity radiating off her, and it would not do any harm. She probably already had I’shan’s side of the story, at any rate. “I wanted bronze, and so I was picky about which clutches I stood for. I was given permission at twelve, with the other weyrbrats, but Xyreith’s was only the second I stood at.”

His face twisted slightly, an odd flurry of emotions scrolling across it rapidly before R’nya shook his head slightly and tilted it, refocusing on Rhaedalyn. “He was the second to hatch,” R’nya didn’t bother to explain that I’shan’s blue had been first – he was quite sure the bluerider would have been more than happy to gloat about that the moment the opportunity arose. Instead, a smile lit up his face in fond remembrance, eyes vague as he dwelled on that moment so many turns ago. “But we bonded before he had even made it out of his shell.” R’nya refocused, throwing Rhaedalyn an oddly rakish grin. “He was very displeased about hatching second!”

As his expression mellowed into something far more R’nya, the man tilted his head slightly at Rhaedalyn. “Have they explained colour ratios to you, in your classes?” He figured it was something the girl would be learning as a goldrider, but he had no idea what order they were taught such things – and Tsuen was hardly a suitable teacher, and Jada was in the dark as much as any of the girls. That did not really bode well for their education! It was such a pity that the crazy old bat was the only surviving goldrider! R’nya threw that off before it could settle and ruin the slightly excitable mood he had settled into after recalling his Impression.

“The lower the chance of a colour being present in the clutch – such as gold or bronze – the luckier it is considered by the Weyr when they hatch first. They say it makes for a stronger, healthier clutch when a bronze hatches first, rather than a green, which usually denotes a high density of the chromatics. Not a bad thing, certainly, but say – for our time now, we want the higher colours, to build up numbers and widen the bloodlines as much as possible. During Threadfall, we would want more greens and blues, because they are the better fighter.”

And more inclined to bite the dust, over-exerting themselves, Xyreith put in, lifting his head and snorting softly, wary of waking up Aradissicath; women tended to get bitchy when they were woken, and Aradissicath was already a cheeky little snot! “That too.” R’nya grimaced, before sharing Xyreith’s comment with Rhaedalyn, careful to word it more politically than his dragon had; “Green and blueriders also run a tendency to be prideful, and over exert their dragons. The smaller dragons are not equipped for extended flights, which is why our current ratio is so heavily skewed. There should be four or five times the numbers of greens and blues but there aren’t, because many of them didn’t make it across the ocean.” Krypth was certainly working to correct that, though, with her clutch of greens and Aradissicath!

I’m surprised any of them made it across the water. Xyreith’s soft comment caused a shudder to travel down R’nya’s spine, and he shook himself slightly, shoving aside that topic as he raised eyebrows at Rhaedalyn, amusement lingering within the expression. “Now that I have answered one question, how many more do you have floating around your pretty head?” He was more awake now, dropping into his second wind and clearly lightened by talking about his Impression to Xyreith.