A Long Way from Ordinary

Writers: Jane
Date Posted: 29th November 2008

Characters: K'hetah, Grehga
Description: K'hetah finds a young candidate hanging around the Hatching Grounds.
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 13, day 11 of Turn 4

"She eats people who get too close, you know."

The bronzerider grinned at the girl he found grinning at him.

"My lifemate would protect me," he assured her, though he indicated with a wave of his hand that they should both move away from the massive opening into the Hatching Ground.

"Not from a gold dragon." Grehga put her head to one side and considered him. "You should know that."

"He would protect me from Faranth herself," he said solemnly. "Though he might hesitate -"

"Ah-ha! A tiny hesitation on the part of your lifemate and you'd be chomp-chomped. Gone. And so would he, of course. And we would all mourn you - though mainly the dragons - and your Wingsecond would lead the wing again."

He had suspected the sharply assessing gaze from under the large, roughly woven hat hadn't missed his knots, nor had the mind behind the gaze failed to identify him.

"I like your hat."

"You should make your own," Grehga encouraged him, whipping off her hat to study it critically. "One of the other healers showed me how to make them."

"Odarian?"

Grehga wasn't surprised the Wingleader knew. He had been a healer before he Impressed and she supposed people were always nosy about their former craft. Though, if she became a dragonrider she wouldn't be a _bit_ nosy about healers because really, healer-ing wasn't tuning out to be as _suitable_ for her as she had hoped. Still, it was better than dolphineer-ing and it enabled her to be a 'Weyr resident' and they were allowed to Stand for clutches without being Searched, with the Weyrwoman's permission.

"O'rian now. He has black hair, like yours. It must soak up the heat more then lighter colours."

K'hetah ran a slightly self-concious hand over his hair, reminded by the feel of it that it would have to be cut soon or the curls would get out of control. "It is quite hot. Are you a Candidate, as well as an apprentice healer, Grehga?"

He had hoped to surprise her by knowing her name, and he suspected he had, but all he got for his efforts was a wide, delighted grin. He wondered if she _knew_ he knew her aunt, guessed it was so, or didn't care how he knew her name.

"I don't wear two sets of knots, either," she said.

Nice answer, he thought, his own smile irrepressible. She was quick-witted, and she knew enough to put many adults to shame. Bright and - he suspected - extremely observant; there probably wasn't much she didn't know or couldn't make intuitive jumps to guessing.

"A bit bulky and cumbersome," he agreed.

Grehga nodded, holding her arm out at an angle and walking around in a circle listing to that side. "Imagine trying to work with a armpit full of knotted cord. Vanity, do you think?"

"Pride in one's achievements would be a kinder view of it."

"Probably explaining why apprentice whatevers don't cling to their craft knots when they Impress." She replaced her hat on her head and tilted up her chin to look at him. "I won't."

"Impress?"

"No. No way of telling that, is there? And no amount of being clever or good or a natural leader - whatever that is - seems to affect the little hatchlings." She nodded and added in a confiding tone: "There are some not-very-clever dragonriders, you know."

"I do know. And some that aren't 'good'." It was strange to find he was agreeing with this half-grown apprentice-and-candidate more readily than he did with most of his peers. Greah had been right when she had described her niece as being a long way from ordinary.

"Are you a natural leader?"

Blunt; but the sparkling eyes and twitching lips made it clear that she knew it was and wanted to see how he would react more than she cared about his answer.

"Competent, I hope. I don't think leadership is ever just natural or just learned. But I do have that bronze lifemate which tradition tells us is an indication of leadership potential."

"An indication not ever available to women."

"But there are gold dragons ... Gold eggs," he said nodding toward the cavern mouth.

Grehga's laughter was spontaneous. "I'm a fighting dragon sort of person, I think."

He hated to say it but she was so perceptive he supposed she would guess at words he left unspoken. "I think you'd be wasted as a dragonrider." As he, with his bronze dragon and having developed a fair amount of leadership ability over the Turns, was wasted as a healer.

"You think so?"

"I do."

Grehga nodded. "I'll give that some thought," she said, knowing that she would. "It's been nice meeting you, Wingleader."

He was dismissed as surely as if he had been a weyrling told to get about his chores. He smiled. "And you, Grehga."

Last updated on the November 29th 2008

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A Long Way from Ordinary