Ronarian

We are all shaped and fashioned by what we love. - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
* * *

Despite his best efforts not to look exhausted, Ronarian was bone tired when he entered the Weyr. He hadn’t travelled very far and he was at no where near Talor Cliff yet, but he had made it as far as Adanuk. He quickly talked the Headwoman, a nice older lady named Media, and found that he could stay the night and that his runner could stay as well. Shadow stomped her feet, demanding attention. They’d ridden long and hard to make it so far and Shadow had proven to be an amazing distance runner. She could keep a fairly quick pace for a long time before tiring. Ronarian yawned and Media clucked her tongue. "Let one of the drudges take care of your runner lad. You need your sleep. Magika’ll want to talk to you in the morning."

To tired to argue Ronarian let Media lead him to a bed, Ren already asleep in his arms. It was late at night, well past the hour that all good boys were supposed to be in bed. After almost a seven-day’s worth of riding, only stopping to eat, sleep and rest Shadow so she didn’t kill herself, a nice bed seemed like heaven. He flopped down on the bed, pulling off his boots. "Who’s Magika?" He managed to mutter before dropping off into the sleep of the exhausted.

He could hear Media chuckle right before he fell completely asleep. "She’s the Weyrwoman. Don’t worry, she won’t be awake before you unless the sky starts falling."

* * *

Ronarian woke to Ren nibbling on his ear. Hungry....

He moaned and swatted the firelizard. "Tired...."

Ren snapped at Ronarian’s nose. Hungry!

"Okay!" Ronarian sat up and yawned. It was about mid-morning, no wonder Ren was starving. He continued to yawn as he pulled his clothes back on, they had been washed and folded. Ronarian couldn’t remember taking them off the night before, but he wasn’t one to question small miracles. After quickly pulling a brush through his short hair, he entered the Weyrbowl, still yawning.

"There you are." The Headwoman quickly approached him. "I bet your little monster is hungry. Come on. You can feed him and talk to Magika at the same time."

Ronarian was confused. "I don’t need to talk the the Weyrwoman that bad....it would be rude....I should check on Shadow..."

The Headwoman had never, in her life, taken no for an answer. "Magika’s feeding her own monsters and Hyth is helping herself to breakfast as well. You’re runner is fine. " Media grinned. "And you’re obviously not from around here, otherwise you wouldn’t be worried about insulting Magika. Manners aren’t amazingly high on her concerns."

By the time Media had finished her little speech she’d pushed the Holder’s son and Ren into a room that contained a small pile of meat, a golden firelizard, a bronze firelizard-like creature and a yawning middle-aged woman. The woman looked up at Ronarian and smiled. "When I’m in charge of this world, I’m going to make a law against mornings."

Ronarian couldn’t help but smile. "Do you mind if Ren joins your two? He’s kind of hungry." Before he had finished the sentence, Ren alighted upon the pile of meat with the golden queen and began eating. Ronarian blushed. "Sorry."

"No problem." The Weyrwoman yawned and stretched. "The more the merrier. What’s your name and where’re you from?"

Ronarian immediately felt at ease with this woman, Magika had that kind of personality. "I’m from Kyrim Hold. My name is Ronarian, I’m Lord Holder Irol’s son."

Magika nodded. "Okay. I know where Kyrim is, I should we protect it every Fall, but why are you here and on a runner?"

"I’m looking for someone." Ronarian couldn’t help blushing. "I’m going to Talor Cliff."

"By runner?" The Weyrwoman was astonished. "It’ll take you forever. What’ll you do if Thread comes?"

Ronarian shrugged. "I don’t know. I hadn’t thought of that. I just have to get there."

"Why?" Although she asked, the Weyrwoman smiled knowingly.

"It’s kinda personal. I just want to talk to her." Ronarian started at the floor.

Magika grinned. "Let’s see if I can’t help you." She stood up and walked to her door, miraculously Media was standing right there, as if she knew the Weyrwoman was going to call. "Is Nora still around?"

"Nora? As in the Searchrider Nora?" Ronarian remembered the woman he’d given a ride to over 4 months before.

"The one and only. Turns out she showed up at your Hold looking for you, ended up running away with your bride. Your father’s in stiches trying to find you." Magika grinned, wondering how he would react to this new piece of information.

Ronarian’s face went white. "You’re not going to send me home are you? I need to talk to her."

Magika smiled. "Nope. I’m going to give you to Nora. She came looking for you at your Hold."

Finally the importance of that sentence struck home with Ronarian. "Why?"

Nora was grinning broadly as she entered the room. "Because I wanted to search you. Mitanth mentioned to me that you might be a good candidate when we saw you riding out of Kysim that day. We stopped to have a look at you. I wanted to come back and get you as soon as Talor Cliff has a clutch and low and behold, we do. It’s kind of an odd clutch, but I don’t think you should mind. Eden’s there and she’s racking her brain trying to write a nice letter of apology to you."

Mitanth’s voice entered Ronarian’s mind. The big blue must be standing just outside. Weywoman Falora sent us to find the best candidates. I want you there.

Ren flew happily chirping to Ronarian’s shoulder. Big blue...he like you...

"So that’s what you meant when you said that before you silly flit!" Ronarian rubbed Ren’s head. "You knew that Mitanth had searched me."

The flit nodded and chirped loudly. Magika continued to talk over the noise. "I’ll watch Shadow of a Doubt for you. I’ll put my best people on her and she’ll be waiting here when you get back. Promise."

Media smiled. "You’ve got your clothes cleaned, is there anything else you need before you leave?"

Ronarian smiled. "She’s been wracking her brain trying to write has she? Can I borrow I pen and parchment?"

"Sure." Magika was bewildered. "What for?"

"I’ll save her the trouble of writing." Ronarian grinned. "I just hope she doesn’t deck me for this.

* * *

Ronarian stood outside Eden’s candidate door, feeling amazingly nervous. What had seemed like a great plan before leaving Adanuk, now seemed silly and small and gods why was he so nervous. He took a deep breath. "Okay," He whispered to his flit. "Give her the note."

Ren chirped and flew into the room. He left the door open a crack for Ronarian to peek in. He landed on her desk and chirped until she acknowledged him. He watched as she took the note, recognized the seal as his and began to read out loud to herself.

"Lady Eden," She murmured in a soft voice. "I found your brother, Gars, and managed to weasel the truth out of him. I'm sending my firelizard, Ren, with this note hoping he finds you. If you're reading this, he obviously has." She paused to smile. "He's really not such a bad guy Ren." Eden began to pet the firelizard. "It's kind of him to write."

She continued reading. "I'd better keep this short, or Ren won't be able to carry it. I just wanted to say 'Good luck with the Hatching.' and 'No hard feelings.’ I would have done the same thing in your position. In fact, I have." He saw her flip the parchment over, looking for more. She was obviously confused.

Ronarian sneaked into the room and stood behind her. He interrupted her thoughts in a quiet, unsure voice. "It's nice to hear that I'm not such a bad guy. It's comforting to know that if you hadn't been searched you wouldn't have ran away anyways."

Eden turned around quickly, standing up. She was obviously amazed by his appearance, and she didn’t appear entirely displeased. "Ronarian? How did you get here?"

The Holder's son smiled. "It's a long story. I'll tell you sometime." He moved closer to her. He wondered if she knew how much he liked her.

Eden smiled. "I'm glad you're not mad at me. Running off on you was a pretty rotten thing to do."

He smiled again, hoping to win her trust. Oh please, He begged. Don’t hate me. "Like the note said. No hard feelings. I ran off on my wedding day too."

Eden smiled. "Guess you could say we eloped." Ronarian tried not to look like that was what he’d been thinking about.

He laughed to cover it up. "It's nice to get to talk like this without our parents looking over our shoulders."

"You said it." There was a moment of silence as the two candidates stared at each other.

"You want to see if we could pay a visit to the sands. The Weyrling Master told me that they should be hatching soon anyways." Ronarian took a chance and moved closer to her.

She smiled and blushed slightly. "Okay." She grabbed his hand in her own.

They watched the sun set together from the Sands. The over-protective queens making sure they didn't get too close to the eggs. Ronarian smiled. I guess everone gets what they want now. He put his arm around Eden as she lay her head on his shoulder.

* * *
Ronarian is a candidate at Talor Cliff Weyr.
Ronarian’s pictures from The Woman Says.
Background from Myrror Images.