"Yes ma'am. I know ma'am. Ma'am- I understand ma'am. Ma'am if you please' No ma'am, none of these 'untamed beasts,' as you call them, would ever harm your son."
Allund pressed his ear against the wooden door to Mystic's weyr, listening to the mage slowly grow more impatient with his mother. The sharp trill of his mother's voice continued chittering like a flit without letting Mystic get a word in edgewise. Every now and then it would pause to take a breath where Mystic would insert a "yes ma'am" or "of course ma'am." The boy sighed and pried himself away from the door. He glanced down at the vibrant basket of flowers his mother had made him prepare for the Caretaker. Allund frowned and considered kicking the basket. If his mother didn't shut up soon, he'd have no reason to impress the mage. Like always, she was ruining everything.
Allund tugged at the collar of his dress shirt. The cotton outfit was hot and itched his neck. He saw no reason for the overly snug outfit in the humid atmosphere of the Warren. The ticklish threads of his bowtie brushed against his chin. Allund grumbled quietly and looked for a place to hide. He hated coming here looking like... well... like a fruit.
"Hey Allund!" The cheery voice called sharply down the hallway. Allund glared at the red headed youth and pressed a finger to his lips. M'lor grinned sheepishly and motioned for him to follow quickly. Allund waited for his mother's firelizard voice to start up again before quickly jogging after the boy.
"Took ya long enough. Put this on." T'lor grinned impishly as his brother dragged Allund around the corner and into their shared weyr. Allund grinned back and pulled the tossed clothes off his head.
"Thanks T'lor. I'll be right out." The 13 year old tore into the twin's room and quickly threw on the ragged blue tunic and black pants. Moments later, he looked at himself in the mirror and smiled at his reflection. His face was slightly round and peachy white, like his mothers. Brown eyes glinted with mischievous delight from beneath a mop of rusty brown hair. Allund grinned and ran a hand through his short hair, letting his carefully combed bangs drop in front of his eyes. Turning, he stepped from the room again to the applause of the identical twins.
"Wonderful. Simply smashing." M'lor mocked the deep voice of his father, using the same pouting look. Allund bowed graciously.
"Thank you. Thank you. Now can we get out of here?"
"Of course your highness." T'lor laughed and dodged Allund's lunge.
* * * Allund breathed in the spicy-sweet air of one of the Warren's many tropical gardens. A brook bubbled nearby, trickling down from a small waterfall. Hot, white sunlight filtered down through the canopy of trees to dot the ground with patches of light. He amused himself by watching two patches of light drift across the ground until they merged then shattered with the movement of the leaves.
His thoughts were interrupted as T'lor and M'lor pulled out their makeshift lunch of bubbly pies and meatrolls. Each boy took a pie first then lounged back on the cool grass to eat.
"So do you think your mom'll let you stay this time, Allund?" M'lor asked around a mouthful of blue berries.
"I dunno. I hope so." Allund returned with a shrug. He grinned quietly. "She wants me to impress and I don't know any other place that could get me anywhere."
"I bet she wants you on a bronze or something, huh?" T'lor swallowed and wiped his hand across his mouth before asking.
"Yep." Allund's grin widened as laughter sparkled in his eyes. "I want to impress a green or blue. Just to show her up."
"Yeah! Or maybe a gold!" M'lor snickered. T'lor nearly choaked on his pie with laughter.
"Allund, the manliest girl around!"
Allund merely grinned and, while both boys were rolling on the floor with mirth, dug his hand into the remainder of his pie and tossed it at T'lor. The twin sat in stunned silence for a moment before returning Allund's wicked grin and plastering him with a meatroll. Soon, all three boys were involved in an all out food fight.
* * * "Allund! What is that in your hair?" The tall duchess looked down at her son in distaste. Allund snatched the tuber slice out of his hair and held it behind his back. One of the twin's bronze flits (he never could tell them apart) gobbled up the evidence quickly.
"What is what mother?" He asked innocently.
"Don't give me that young man. You just hid it behind your back."
Allund promptly showed his mother his clean hands and blinked in confusion. "Are you sure mother?"
"Oh never mind." The older woman sighed and rolled her eyes. Mystic stood behind the duchess, barely hiding her grin. Clearing her throat, the red robed woman stepped forward.
"Allund, it's been arranged that you are to stay with us for a while." Mystic smiled and winked to the boy. Allund had to supress an urge to jump for joy. "You have been searched by Yath and Blakoreth and found worthy to stand for impression. You will stay in one of our prepared... rooms," Mystic cast a sideways glance at Allund's mother. Appearently there'd been some argument on the topic. "until we find a suitable place for you to stand."
"Yes'm. I'll go get my stuff." Allund bowed politely to the two woman and turned to walk back down the hallway. Once out of sight, he whooped for joy and ran the rest of the way to his parent's wagon.