| Characters | Dahj |
| Synopsis | Dahj doesn't have time to //think// until some hours post-Impression. |
| Out-of-Character Date | November 6, 2021 |
In the hours following their first meeting, their first feeding, first everything, there was only the thrilling rush of their bond, the immediacy of Esoireth’s hunger, the adoration that ran so deeply that Dahjari ached.
It was only after the swirl of the little dragon’s eyes began to slow, after both sets of eyelids began to blink shut and the susurrus of lapping waves settled into a silent, starlit sea in her mind’s eye that the human half of the new pair had time to think while collecting her (admittedly few) belongings from the candidate barracks.
It was still incredible to the new weyrling that Esoireth knew who she was the moment their eyes met. Knew that she was Dahjari of the Farash clan, that Padjma was but the name of a beloved sister gone too soon, that taking up the knot of a Igen candidate had been a means to an end, that the idea of Impression had only meant freedom — but now. But now …
Suddenly, she found herself thinking of the first time she had met Kouzevelth. She couldn’t help drawing a mental comparison; newly-hatched Esoireth was so much smaller, even if she already stood taller than many of her clutchmates.
Dahj bit her lip as she crossed the bowl, aware of the near-emptiness of the bag slung over her shoulder.
She had enjoyed the (relative) anonymity of working at Fort. No one had paid any mind to a quiet, steady kitchen worker. She drew some attention in some places as Inri’s assistant, but was still able to keep largely to herself. No one had known who she had been, of the life she had been born into and left for one of her choosing.
It was only a matter of time, she knew, before her family would learn of her Impression. Perhaps it would mean that she could finally bring her mother to the weyr, get her to a healer who could help —
Or it could mean that she would be easier to try to blackmail, for surely a weyrwoman would make a more appealing target than a weyrwoman’s assistant. She could no more attempt to stop the fighting between the families now than she could before she left to give Padjma’s memory the honest life that she had wanted.
Remembering something about the importance of masking strong emotions, Dahj carefully tucked her fears for the future as neatly away as her few possessions, letting her ruminations drift instead into the gentle ebb and flow of Esoireth’s uncomplicated slumber, where a vessel of dreams could carry them both to the stars.
