Chapter Text
Shenette slid down the side of the small green into the snow. “Thank you, P’dan. Thank you, Beverth.” She gave each of them a tiny bow before looking around the stone weybowl. “And I thought the Smithcraft Hall was big,” she commented, awestruck.
“It has to be big to fit so many dragons,” P’dan replied cheekily. “And you two’ll be trying for the gold egg - have you seen a queen up close yet? They make Bev here look like a hatchling.”
“No,” Shenette said, eyes wide. “How much bigger are they?” She picked up her bag of belongings, hefting it over one shoulder.
“Go see for yourself. The Weyrlingmaster has been meeting all of the Candidates at the Hatching Grounds anyway. Just inside the doorway, mind. Ralenth is a bit fussy about letting strangers near her clutch, as she should be.” The greenrider turned, looking up to see Karathael still sitting astride his dragon. “Are you coming down, or shall I send up snacks?”
“I’m coming, I’m coming. I don’t want to…” Karathael slid down Beverth’s side foot-first, nearly doing the splits on their way to the ground. “Do that. Ow.” They stretched a little, making sure they were uninjured before picking up their own bag. “Good thing you’re a green.” They patted the dragon’s side. “Thank you for the ride.”
“Come on, P’dan is going to show us to the Hatching Grounds!” Shenette bounded forward. This was all becoming very, very real. Ever since they had gone between at the Smithcraft Hall and reappeared over the snowy mountains of High Reaches Weyr only a few moments later, all the research and planning she had done over the past few days still didn’t seem like enough.
The Hatching Ground itself was small compared to the Weyr Bowl, but it could have easily fit one of the Smithcraft’s giant water wheels inside. A vast pit of sand made up the majority of the center, surrounded by rising rows of stone benches. An amphitheater, Shenette recalled the word, though she wasn’t sure if those had ceilings or not. The hatching ground did - more stone, part of a cave, or the side of the mountain. It was far too high to hold in any warmth, but it did manage to keep snow off of the clutch.
And the eggs! Oh! The effervescent, iridescent, opalescent eggs! Even the smallest ones must go up past her knee. Curious to test this theory, Shenette lifted the rope, only to stop when an arm unexpectedly shot out in front of her.
“Nope,” Weyrlingmaster Gr’lin said, looking exasperated. Seeing his half-grown whiskers and unbrushed hair, she estimated that the poor man probably hadn’t slept since she saw him last. If the rumors were true, he’d been going all over Pern rounding up candidates for this poor, abandoned clutch. “We’ll go onto the sands once everyone is here. Can’t be bothering Ralenth all day.” He gave the blonde a long look, trying to place her. “Though you can introduce yourself to Weyrwoman Vanira if you’d like… Shenette. There’s a better view of the queen egg from her seat.”
“Right. Sorry. Thanks!” The young woman practically sprinted around the grounds, eager to take advantage of the situation and learn as much as she possibly could. It was one thing to read about Weyrs, but it was another thing entirely to be inside one, see everything in person, and even talk to a Weyrwoman. Vanira looked to be working on some stitching, but she didn’t seem too engaged with it.
Shenette spoke with Vanira for quite some time about the inner workings of a Weyr and what a good Weyrwoman’s role consisted of, but she couldn’t stop staring at the immense egg nestled near Ralenth’s chest. There was something about it that drew her attention even more than the rest of them, and she couldn’t help but think that that resplendent, golden shell might just be cradling her entire future.