Goodnight Moons
Dragonsfall Weyr
Amber Hills Hold
Vintner Hall
Healer Hall
Hidden Meadows
Dolphin Cove Weyr
Dolphin Hall
Emerald Falls Hold
Harper Hall
Printer Hall
Green Valley Hold
Leeward Lagoon Hold
Barrier Lake Weyr
Sunstone Seahold
Citrus Bay Hold
Writers: Iluva
Date Posted: 15th July 2025
Characters: Th'reyos
Description: Zarkarth has a heart-to-heart with their clutch
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 10, day 13 of Turn 12
Notes: Slight Jossenth posing with Duskdog's permission
Zarkarth was nothing if not a proud-- and some might say _overly_ protective-- father.
It pleased him to no end that Jossenth not only allowed him to be present on the Sands however much he wished (ie. as much as duty allowed), but also enjoyed his presence and enthusiasm, too. She was everything he could have wanted in a mate, the perfect mother to the most perfect clutch. Warm, sweet, and indulgent of his compulsions to ensure their children had the best of everything.
Late in the evening, with Thread flamed just that morning and Jossenth out busy with her bath, Zarkarth was on patrol. He had every reason to be. He frequently unearthed memories from Th'reyos - news of poisoned hatchlings, tainted meat. A young rider being attacked in the dining hall. A young blue’s death in a far away Hold, his rider destroyed like he was something half spat out from /between/.
No such thing would repeat itself _here_, not while he patrolled. These bounds were his domain, and he was immovable, as intractable as stone. Every curious onlooker that drifted in was greeted with a slow, wary look and a careful rumble of warning if he didn’t like their face. And there were many such faces.
The sound of footsteps slicing through the sand at this hour nearly had him snarling and snapping his teeth - until he realized who it was.
**Easy there, hot shot. I come in peace.” Th’reyos held up his hands with a grin, quickly closing the distance between them. Gently caressing the brown’s chin, he looked his partner over with a critical eye. **You’re gonna dry out in here, Zar.”
Zarkarth snorted a plume of hot, musky breath into his hair. }:No, I won’t.:{ He surveyed the clutch carefully from this angle. }:It won’t be for much longer, anyway. They are nearly ready.:{
**They tell you that, did they?**
}:I _know_.:{
**I bet you do.** There was no humor, no teasing in it, just a quiet reverence for whatever was going on in here. Dragons were a world apart, and although their bond was deep, forged strong, his bond was still little more than a glimpse into it.
**Zar, I hate to ask, I know you’re doing your thing. But do you think you can leave these to harden on their own for just a minute? Gotta get some sleep. Or at least try.**
Th’reyos may as well have asked him to fly back to Dragonsfall. Zarkarth did, of course, ferry him to their temporary weyr that overlooked the sea, barely touching the ledge before high-tailing it back.
}:Sorry about that.:{ The brown murmured to the eggs, mindvoice gruff and gentle. }:Our riders can be very demanding at times. It’s important to take care of them, as much as they will allow.:{ He began pushing sand in around a few of them, still talking away, }:If you want some advice, don’t choose riders that will fold to your every whim. It might sound fun, but there's an issue of balance in every bond. A soft rider will be hard to rally, they will fold too easily - even if getting your way is good fun. And honestly a difficult rider is just as bad. They'll think they know it all, even the things they don't know. Their ears are like their minds: closed. Don't waste your time on that. Trust me.:{
He paused mid-scoop of sand, suddenly troubled. That begged the question of what to look for in a rider, stumping Zarkarth more than he liked to admit. The answer didn’t come easily, nor quickly. He was silent for a long time, unsure and irritated about being unsure how to properly guide them in this. He only knew _his_ choice felt inevitable, and only knew 'who' that was because Th’reyos felt right. He fit, perfectly. Another option simply didn’t exist. How to explain that…
}:You… will know them when you see them. They are Yours. Only you decide who They are. But I just know they will be so lucky when you find them. How could they not be, when you are all so very wonderful?:{ His dulcet tone softened into a whisper, }:And your riders will never know the difference.:{ He chuckled, amused by this private truth.
A short while later, on an intuitive patrol of the perimeter, Zarkarth found a patch of mud near the cavern entrance and huffed, hurling it into the Weyrbowl with his forepaws, hot sand hissing and flying in his wake. It was lucky he hadn't caught the careless culprit in the act - it would have been their last visit.
Then he turned back to the clutch their mother had so lovingly arranged, watching sheets of heat rise and smudging the air in a silvery veil around the little shells. He settled on the outskirts and slid in the last few feet flat on his belly until he was finally among them again. He and the heat were old friends. And although he couldn’t quite remember the cold of Dragonsfall at this point, he knew it was there, somewhere, on the other side of /between/.
But not here. And not now. Now, nothing really existed but the warmth, and the quiet, and the clutch, tucked in safe and cozy in their sandy cradle. The heat must have been getting to him - Zarkarth had never felt so utterly besotted, so soft, so tender towards anything this long in his life - not even Th’reyos. Still, he rumbled softly to them, calm reassurance in his thoughts as he draped his wings over their shells like a blanket.
}:Now, my little loves, shall I tell you the story of Thread? The evil, vile, _wretched_ thing?:{ He asked with hushed excitement, eyes storming red, protective and conspiratorial.
}:No one knows where it comes from,:{ - he didn’t know right now, which was the same thing,- }:but it falls from the sky like the rain. Not good rain. No, this vicious rain devours everything it touches. Crops, trees, beasts, even _us_ and _Ours_. Everything, if given the opportunity. But - and listen here, darlings - _we_ destroy it. That’s right. Flame it into dust, into _nothing_. It screams in our fire, screams all the way into death. It dies screaming.:{
He paused reverently, as if he were twining myth and magic and purpose into each word, an epic tale crafted solely for them.
}:Only we can protect the Weyrs. Only we - and only _you_. That's right. Oh you will see, sweet ones. You will be the fiercest Threadfighters ever to fly these skies. You’ll shield the world and fly higher, flame hotter than any before you. You already know this, of course. And you _will_ know magnificent triumph, the sweetest of victories, and all will marvel at your greatness…:{ On he went, telling them everything he could think of - Thread, flying, duty, fire, love - all the things a father must do, and by the time Jossenth returned, bathed and oiled, every inch as radiant as the day they twined in the sky, it’d been nearly a candlemark.
He slept well that night, knowing all that was good and perfect and precious in the world was here, nestled safely between their parents for just a little longer.
Last updated on the July 29th 2025