Dragoners Nuadha gently placed his smallest sister in her bed and tucked the covers around her shoulders, smiling fondly down at her before eyeing the other five, making sure they were actually asleep and not just goofing. Morgana, the eldest of the six at the Caer besides himself, was truly old enough to have her own room, but she seemed to enjoy watching the five of them, and he couldn’t find the heart to order her out and about. She had a job around the Caer, and it did help to have her around. He was, after all, busy with other things. Is that what I am now? Other things? Peimolath sounded amused more than anything, and Nuadha could picture the look in the dark eyes of the almost-black beast he found himself saddled with after all these years. Peimolath easily outsized all of the others at Brynmor, and while it wasn’t something Nuadha was overly proud of (as he really had nothing to do about it), it was something else altogether when visitors came and gasped at the unfolding night that consisted of Peimolath and all of his many meters of wings and tail and body. Finally returning to his own room, Nuadha collapsed in a chair and groaned, his back and arms aching from a long day of work and from toting around his siblings. He loved them all, he really did, but it was exhausting to look after them so continually. Which was what made him consider Kesava’s offer. Having recently discovered the joys of motherhood herself, she knew how important it was to get out and do your own thing. She had suggested, therefore, that a sort of crèche be set up, in which the kids could stay for the day, or week, or whatever. Little Keli’i was the first to be left in the morning, and the last to be picked up at night, but he never lacked for company anymore, and his parents made a habit of dropping by. Nuadha was, as said, tempted. Who wouldn’t be? Leave the kids there in the day, do his work, pick them up right before they crashed, or even leave them and Morgana for a week or so... He felt guilty even thinking about it, and as he rubbed the back of his neck, he shrugged at Peimolath’s sad sigh. “Sorry ‘Mo, but it looks like if you still want to chase, it’s going to have to be here.” That’s stupid, Nuadha. Your idea is stupid and you’re stupid, and I need to fly, the black hissed, his eyes a shimmering red, and Nuadha felt the anger spilling over to him. They were grown, weren’t they? So why shouldn’t they get away for a day, or two, or more. The kids would be well-looked after, and were more than capable of listening to Morgana. Stop it, Nuadha snapped irritably, pushing Peimolath’s thoughts back into his own head and cradling his own. He needed a good stiff drink, he did. And one he wouldn’t find around here. Falling back onto the bed, it wasn’t until almost sunrise he came up with an answer, and that was without sleep, or short bursts of it. But will it work? Peimolath asked, intruding on Nuadha’s thoughts again. Brilliant idea, but will she go for it? “Of course she will.” Nuadha promised, pulling on a heavier vest to ward off the early-morning fog before running down to the kitchen, his long legs carrying a lean frame quickly along the empty corridors. “You should let me cut that,” Nelia clucked, tugging on a long strand of white hair that had fallen into his face. Blowing it out of the way with a charming smile, Nuadha danced the woman about and planted a warm kiss of her cheek. “Where might I find the Caerlady this morning?” He asked as she swatted at him and missed, his height keeping him well out of range. “And what would you want with her?” A deep voice asked, followed by a babyish giggle. Turning, Nuadha smiled at Keli’i and greeted the Caerlord with as much dignity as he could muster at that moment. “I’d be asking for some time away. I hear that Ryslen has some flights, and that one of our own is there awaiting one of them. Peimolath and I need to get away for a few days, and figured it was as good a place as any to start.” “And of course, it wouldn’t hurt that you’ve heard from a first-hand source the dragon is divine and the lady herself is fair.” Kl’ivor grinned wickedly, shifting his son to his other arm and nodding. “Consider your request heard and granted, and be gone.” “Aye sir,” Nuadha said, and he was. ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ I’ve never been here. This is nice. It is nice to get away. I’m happy, Peimolath was looking around the Weyr as though he’d never been away from Brynmor, and Nuadha was dancing around apologizing for all of the people the black came close to trampling. “Watch your tail,” he warned again, smacking his hand ineffectually against the thick hide of Peimolath’s neck. “And where are Riaghan and Rotuth?” “Making sure we beat the two of you, chap,” a cheery voice called, and Nuadha grinned and happily greeted his fellow Brynmorian, never mind that they had bonded at the same hatching, if not exactly the same clutch. “Getting into trouble is more like it,” Nuadha laughed and looked back when Peimolath snorted. Look there, he demanded, and Nuadha followed the gently whirling eyes to a large light green. He reminded Nuadha of Quaritoth and Spiflyth and even the little Holrirosth, all of whom were Ryslen-born dragons now residing at Brynmor. This female, though, dwarfed them. She was huge! Not as large as Peimolath, or even Rotuth, but they were males, and large besides. “Daunting, isn’t she? But worry not, her rider is charming,” Riaghan was leading him away, and Nuadha turned just long enough to warn Peimolath to behave, and to leave Rotuth alone. The two loved nothing more than some friendly competition, and Nuadha almost felt sorry for the others competing for Xenarioth and Rasa. Almost. In the meantime, he would be doing his damnedest to make sure that any male with a fighting chance got one hell of a run. This Xenarioth had better be ready, because this could be one interesting flight. Nuadha bonded at the Healing Den