Getting her husband settled at the edge of the observation stands was the work of a few moments and a couple stern reminders to stay put until the hatching was over. Deravia rather doubted he would, the silly thing, but as long as he waited until she was on her way back to him, with or without a dragon, before hopping up and rushing to meet her, she didn't think she'd mind. His concern over her, though confining and irritating, was still rather sweet, in its own odd little way. If she were the delicate, waiflike flower of a maiden that many elf women were, she might even appreciate it. As it was, she just wanted it over with, so he could fawn over his little girl and leave her be.

Among the other candidates, Deravia shrouded herself with maternal mystery, keeping her eyes hooded and her hands on her belly. If she looked suitably inscrutable, sometimes it kept people's hands off the baby-bulge. Today, combined with the excitement of the candidates themselves, it worked quite well. No one so much as spoke to her, and she could focus her full attention on the eggs. There were eight this time, a fairly average number, smaller than some she'd already attended but larger than others. The mother, a blue dragoness with shimmering, "starry" wings, had a name that Deravia couldn't even remember, much less pronounce, and she was glaring at the candidate bunch with disdain. The father was nowhere to be seen, and Deravia had quite forgotten what he looked like, if she had ever known.

The first egg cracked quietly, but it caught everyone's attention nevertheless. The audience fell quickly quiet-- not silent, of course, because no crowd was ever completely silent-- as everyone who hadn't been paying attention to the eggs stopped talking to see what the people who had been paying attention were looking at. Deravia didn't need anyone else to point out what was happening; she watched the young dragon, deep indigo and matte black in color, stagger on her hind legs about a moment before making her way towards the candidates. Belatedly, the rest of the group formed into the traditional semi-circle, and Deravia drifted along with the flow of bodies. The dragon chose a young girl without preamble, and the pair tottered off to give their names to the Archivist.

Two more hatched, a lovely green lady and a shiny bronze boy. The former got used to her legs quickly and gave the gathered candidates a thoughtful look, while the latter rushed to bond a furry-faced young man. Baby gave a particularly strong kick, making Deravia wince, and she patted the place lightly. "Shh, daughter, shh, beauty," she murmured in elvish, hoping to soothe her into quiet. She hadn't been quiet all day, though, so it was a faint hope, and a vain one, as well, for all she got in return was another kick. Sighing, she returned her attention to the hatching--

--to find the green biped dragon blinking brightly up at her. For a moment, she blinked back, wondering if it was going to say something to her; a bond at last? But then the hatchling turned her attention to her middle. The amusing-- and also somehow irritating-- thought that maybe dragons were as preoccupied with pregnant women as people were crossed her mind, but was completely forgotten when Baby jumped inside her with a wash of surprise and pleasure, all her attention for once focused off of herself and Mommy. The unborn hardly even paid attention to her father, who focused so much of his on her, that it was something of a shock to note her awareness turned outward for once.

Even more shocking, Deravia suddenly caught the echo of a sending, with real words, that did not come from Baby. ::Hey, you! I know you're in there, listening to me!:: The dragon, jaw gaping with amusement, was sending to the baby! And she wasn't finished, either: ::Who would be a better bond for me than someone my own age?::

"Please don't tell me you just bonded my-- my daughter," Deravia said, a faint touch of pleading in her voice. Her daughter, her unborn daughter, had just been latched onto by a dragon? Had such things ever happened before? Was it even possible?

::All right, I won't tell you!:: came the cheerful response, more directly sent to her, before the dragon added to Baby, ::Now you just gotta come on out of there so we can actually be together!::

Torn between outrage and outright hilarity, Deravia drifted over towards the Archivist. She'd shared a few words with him, at previous hatchings, but she doubted he'd remember her. The dragon-- ::My name's Lisaleth, by the way! Pleasure to meetcha, mommy-person!::-- hopped around her feet energetically, somehow managing not to get stepped on or tripped over, all the while chattering wordlessly with Baby. They seemed fast friends already, despite Baby not knowing what a friend was. It would certainly be interesting to raise a child bonded from before birth to a dragon, no one could say otherwise....

"Well, here's something you don't see every day," Archivist Linaeas commented with a polite nod and a smile, which she answered with a rueful smile of her own. Obviously he was referring to a pregnant candidate, but his records would be even more unusual, unless she was much mistake.

"No, certainly not!" she told him wryly. "Lisaleth-- I think she just bonded my daughter."

The wolfen records-keeper's thoughts weren't all that hard to guess. Though all he said was, "Well, then," his expression-- what there was of it, on a canine muzzle and shaded eyes-- was one of shock and dismay. The shock was for such a rare thing, she assumed, and the dismay, well, it was no secret that he worried about the welfare of the dragons whose hatchings he recorded for, at least in part. The thought that no infant, born or unborn, could possibly care for a dragon would be foremost in anyone's mind, in that instance.

"Don't worry," she assured him, "I'll be sure to take care of her along with Thenna. Really, it won't be a problem."

Shocked or not, Linaeas recovered well. "Whatever you say, then," he said. "I'll be sure to alert Siche. She should have an assistant to help you, should you need it."

"My thanks," Deravia answered with a smile. She might actually need some help, especially once she bonded herself! Whenever that happened.

::Can we get something to eat?:: Lisaleth's child-like voice piped up. ::Everyone else is, and I'm starving.::

"Of course we can, dear," Deravia said, already moving towards the tables piled high with an appropriate breakfast for a newly-hatched dragon: lots and lots of meat. "I hope you don't mind my feeding you in Thenna's place, or else you might find yourself feeding yourself."

::Oh, no, that'll be fine, thank you!:: the dragon chirped, then went back to her silent conversation with Baby-- no, Thenna, now. She deserved a name in her own thoughts, now, if she was precocious enough to bond a dragon before even being born. Not the horrible name Elsarin had in mind, of course, but Thenna would work just fine. ::Yes, it will!:: Lisaleth added, and she chuckled.

"Good."

"Dera, Dera!" cried a familiar voice, pushing his way towards her. Elsarin had, of course, forgotten his promise to wait until she came to him. At least he hadn't come right out onto the hatching bay floor. "You did it, finally!"

::Do you want to tell him, or shall I?:: Lisaleth asked with a wicked little smile on that dragonine muzzle of hers.

"I do believe I will explain," Deravia told her tartly, kneeling awkwardly beside the tables and offering a hearty chunk of beef, or whatever it was, to the hatchling. "You just concentrate on eating." Distracted by the smell of food, thankfully she did.

Elsarin crouched beside her, beaming. "You finally bonded!"

"She's not mine, Els," she corrected him. His smile melted into confusion.

"But-- you're feeding her!"

"That's because she's coming home with us, anyway."

"But she's not bonded?"

"Oh, she's bonded, all right. It seems, Els, that our little girl is quite precocious."

Thick though he was, he picked that one up quickly enough. And his expression was absolutely priceless. It was almost worth the mess that this would cause.

Chapter Three

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