Congratulations or Condolences?

Fort Weyr - Centre Bowl
The wide center of the bowl is often bustling with activity as riders come and go. Off westward can be seen the entrances for the candidate barracks and the guest weyr, while to the east is a large opening that leads into the dragon infirmary. The bowl stretches off both to the north and to the south, where the sheer stone walls rise steeply to the sky.


It is a cloudy winter day, the high clouds light and puffy, drifting in front of the sun and then away, creating vast differences in temperature depending on where you're standing. Nyalle is out with Kayeth, the pair walking in the direction of the feeding grounds. Bundled up in her cloak with the hood up, her long gown brushing against mud and ice and snow, Nyalle has her head down as she hurries. Kayeth though moves leizurely, steps placed carefully and her head up, gazing around. She's got a glow about her, but not a proddy glow. She has a pregnancy glow, a Senior's glow, as she surveys /her/ weyr with pride.

Over that cloudy winter sky soars a shadow that grows steadily larger until Velokraeth's bulky and pale form lands in the bowl. Keeping well away from Kayeth and her rider, the bronze is quick to fold his wings and allow his rider to dismount though it does not keep him from turning his head to the fiery and glowing queen to warble a sweet and honeyed greeting to her. Th'ero takes a moment to store his helmet in the pouch of his straps before striding over and offering Nyalle a half-bow of respect. "Good day to you, Weyrwoman!" he says, keeping his smile and features neutral but welcoming. "How are you? Kayeth is looking splendid this day."

Nyalle and Kayeth both pause to watch the Weyrleader arrive, Kayeth crooning a warm and welcoming greeting to the pale bronze while Nyalle lifts the hem of her skirts to dip into a shallow curtsey. "Good day to you as well, Weyrleader. I am well, yourself? And thank you," she says, her demeanor improving markedly when he compliments Kayeth.

Straps or no straps, Velokraeth will waddle his way over to Kayeth when she croons to him and will promptly attempt to press his muzzle and head to her neck in a fond head butting caress that extends to him rubbling muzzles with her. No doubt he is showering her with praise too, complimenting her on her healthy glow and how proud and queenly she looks, fit to outshine the sun! Th'ero turns his head to watch the exchange between their dragons and then pointedly looks back to Nyalle. "I'm glad to hear you are well. As for myself… I am well. Kimmila however is not and even my son has had a rough time of this winter weather." he murmurs, keeping it simple and elaborating no further. "I need to go to Southern Boll Hold on a quick errand, but I would like to extend an offer for you to join Velokraeth and I if you wish? Kayeth is not yet too egg heavy?"

Kayeth steps away from her rider to greet Velokraeth, rubbing muzzles with him and arching her neck, pressing close to her mate, hide to hide. "Kimmila and Kyzen are not well?" Nyalle asks with a sudden flare of concern. "What is wrong? Do we need to send for more supplies?" Because she will. But then at his offer, the goldrider blanches slightly, taking a small step back. "I…I can't…" That's not suspicious, right?

Velokraeth leans up against Kayeth in return and he will even be so coy and bold as to slip his tail over hers as he continues to rub muzzles with her and even brush it up along her arched neck. Th'ero looks a touch sheepish when Nyalle looks so concerned, not having wished to bring up his personal life. Too late now! "That is why I am going to Southern Boll Hold. I have family relations there and my mother has agreed to lend me the herbs in her garden to tend to Kimmila to avoid depleting our stores. As for Kyzen, he is not sick but is recovering from a bad tumble down the stairs leading to our ledge. The boy is prone to high energy and rushing a head. It was a harsh lesson to learn but he will be cautious now…" Or so he hopes! Suspicious is right and Th'ero is immediately so when Nyalle blanches and steps back. "What is it? Is there something wrong, Weyrwoman?" he asks gently, only to shoot Kayeth another look. "Is she near her time?" That brings an expectant but soft trill from Velokraeth. Is she, is she?

"I hope they both heal swiftly," Nyalle says, her tone more bland - as if she's reciting rather than genuinely offering something. She has her reasons though, her thoughts whirling. "I, uh, sir, um." Very unlike her. "No, s - Th'ero, she's not near her time." Kayeth rumbles, shifting to nudge her muzzle along her belly. « You can barely see their bulges yet, » she gently chides her enthusiastic mate. "I think I might be, um…" She trails off for a long, awkward silence before she clears her throat. "Pregnant." Pause. "Sir."

Th'ero inclines his head and does not take offence to Nyalle's tone. He did not expect anything more from her! What he isn't expecting is her sudden lack of confidence and strange behaviour. His eyes narrow a bit and there is an uneasy feeling beginning to work its way into his gut. Something isn't right… and there it is! He blinks for a moment and of all things he smiles. A faint, kind of strained smile that is so obviously practiced much like her tone was earlier in regards to his weyrmate and son. "Pregnant? Oh, yes. That would explain why you cannot Between… ah, congratulations then. To you and Mr'az." How awkward is that, when the Weyrleader assumes it's the Reachian bronzerider's? Poor, poor clueless man. Assuming that the visiting "friend" was just that — a friend. He was her mate once, so perhaps he can be forgiven a little for it.

Nyalle coughs, shaking her head and looking up at him. Taking a steadying breath, she forces herself to /watch/ him. "It's not Mr'az'," she says quietly. "It's yours. I've not been with anyone…" Except Th'ero, since her arrival here months ago.

That practiced smile stays in place for a good few seconds after Nyalle's dropped that bombshell of news. Th'ero blinks, frowns, blinks again and then seems to stagger back, licking his lips and clearly struggling to accept the words that just crossed her lips. "Wh—what?" he manages to stutter, having to stop before the incredulous laugh that threatens to follow is bit back. Clearing his throat, he takes a steadying breath and his hands fidget at his sides. "Not his? You're… you're certain that it is mine? That you are pregnant?" he asks and keeps his voice low out of respect to her. No one needs to hear this! But she's just gone and confirmed that she has slept with no other and Th'ero's eyes close and his head lowers. Oh shit.

Nyalle dips her head down, swallowing slightly. "I'm positive it's yours," she says firmly. Of /that/ she is sure. "And I am…well…this early it's difficult to /know/, but the signs…" Are all there. Kayeth hums happily, nuzzling Velokraeth's neck. « Like bronze, like rider? » she teases lightly, a subtle compliment to the verility of both of them.

Th'ero blinks again and lifts his gaze up to watch Nyalle carefully, trying to gleam any evidence of uncertainty in the Weyrwoman. Yet while she does hesitate, it's not in the way he hopes. She's speaking the truth, that much he can see and now he does straighten and rocks a bit. His mind is reeling and his expression is just the classic shell-shocked. No jumping for joy from him! "Ahh, yes. The signs." he agrees brokenly. What else is he to say? Jaw working, he tries to quell the panic bubbling up inside of him too. "I see." Velokraeth rumbles, pleased when Kayeth nuzzles him. The pale bronze had lowered his head to inspect her belly closely in an attempt to find evidence that some of the eggs are showing. Alas, he finds none but this news her rider has has his mind rippling with amusement. « It would seem so! Finally. Perhaps he will honour your rider by siring her a fine son too! »

Nyalle swallows and nods slightly, smiling faintly as she shifts a hand to press against her stomach. "Yes. So." Ahem! "I can't go with you to Boll, but please give my regards to your mother and I hope Kimmila and Kyzen feel better soon." Kayeth croons contentedly, nuzzling the bronze in return. « Or a fine, dark haired daughter, » she thrums happily.

Th'ero is still staggering with the news and for a moment can only stare at her, baffled and so lost. What does he do? "Right, of course. Thank you… I'll ah, be sure to give them your regards." he manages to say, his smile faint and faltering. "If you'll excuse me, Weyrwoman and I hope the rest of your day goes pleasantly. I need to prepare…" What? Velokraeth is already strapped and readied, but Th'ero doesn't turn to walk towards the bronze but rather towards the northern bowl. Poor, poor Weyrleader has received a shock and he is not handling it well. Velokraeth whuffles where he stands in Kayeth's company. « Or a fine, dark haired daughter. » he agrees with a mental smile and one last parting nuzzle. « Perhaps I will join you later today if you wish for some company? I must go for now, m'lady though I wish I could remain by your side. »

Nyalle nods her head and turns to walk away, her steps as swift as she can manage on the snow, ice and mud. Kayeth lingers for one last nuzzle, rumbling her agreement. « Later, I must feed, » she agrees, before she's following after her rider.


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