Wiro lay on her belly in the dim light of the night-shift setting she hadn't bothered to change, staring disconsolately out across the hatching bay that was now officially hers, at least for the next few months. She was exhausted, physically and emotionally, but there was none of the contentment she had expected. There was not even a sense of accomplishment for a good night's work.

For it had been a good night's work. For the past two months, she'd carried more than her fair share of burdens, and at last, tonight, she'd finally been able to drop a few of them... quite literally. Eleven little burdens-- precious burdens-- now lay nestled among the heat-infused padding tubes of the hatching bay. It had taken her the whole night to push them all out, and it should have made her feel lighter, somehow.

But it didn't, because she was still alone.

Of course, she hadn't actually told anyone she was coming here to clutch. Siche Four had assigned her the bay two days ago, so the Minister hadn't known exactly when Wiro would be coming in. None of her friends knew; she hadn't really seen much of them, lately, anyway. She hadn't even told the clutch's sire, Silent Melody, though she knew he would have gladly been there for her, and for his offspring. But she didn't want him there-- she hadn't wanted any of them there. She'd only Zale, and all he'd done was nod vaguely and look away. He was the only one she wanted there, and he hadn't come.

And no one would know that, either. How could she bear to tell her friends, her mate, even a strange, brusque cat-woman, that the person she loved most in the world was too stoned to come to his own dragon's first clutching? To even understand that it was happening? It hurt enough just thinking about it, in private and to herself.

She'd hardly seen him since her flight, and even when she did, he didn't seem to see her. Everything had looked so bright, then... so perfect. It had all gone downhill faster than she could even fathom.

Well, life didn't end, just because one was depressed. Wiro had a clutch of eleven, now, to look after. She heaved herself tiredly to her feet and started nudging the round, leathery, "precious burdens" into warmer spots, closer together so she could curl around them when she was done. She didn't know if that was right or not, but it seemed to make sense, and she certainly didn't want to leave any out, when she finally collapsed into sleep. It was her first clutch; she had no idea what to do.

Zale would know....

But Zale wasn't here.

Hiccoughing back a very un-dragon-like sound, almost a sob, she focused fiercely on her clutch. My eggs... my children. To love and care for-- until they hatch and they-- they find bonds to love and care for, too. Just like I did.

All right, that train of thought wasn't helping. She thought about her own mother, instead, trying to remember anything-- there wasn't much. Someone big and bronze who hadn't meant nearly as much to her as that one, perfect mind among the waiting candidates-- or even as much as her siblings, who she'd played with before she recognized that mind. Would her own children remember her, at all? She'd never seen her own mother again-- would she ever see any of them again?

Sunk into sad thoughts of a different order, at least, she jumped in surprise and hope when the doors to the bay, previously shut, slid open, and the lights automatically rose back to a more normal setting, momentarily blinding her. Was it him? Had he come??

:Zale??:

"What?"

That wasn't Zale's voice, stoned or otherwise.... The dazzle cleared from her eyes, to reveal a limber, tabby, cat-woman standing in the doorway, hands on her hips and faintly backlit by the glowing tubes protruding from her back. Siche Four, Minister if Flights and Hatchlings. Definitely not Zale Runnoe. Wiro's wings droops against her shoulders, and her head ducked with disappointment.

"I noticed that there was someone in here, and I thought I'd check to make sure it was the right dragon," the Minister said, more gently than she'd spoken when Wiro had first requested the bay.

:It's just me... my time came to clutch, that's all,: Wiro answered quietly, putting her nose back to the nearest egg and rolling it over a lump of mossy padding, giving its warm shell a few licks for good measure.

When she looked up, Siche Four was still there, watching her with an odd expression on her face. When Wiro caught her staring, she cleared her throat lightly and began, "I remember you."

:Pardon?: Wiro blinked.

"When you hatched," Siche clarified. "I was there; I used to attend all the hatchings to deal with the rabid sponsors. I remember you, because you were the biggest-- and the brightest." She flicked an ear with a slow, feline grin. Wiro smiled faintly, back.

:I'm afraid I don't remember a whole lot from my hatching,: she admitted.

"Mostly just the bonding, hmm?"

:Well... yes.: Wiro nudged another egg into a more pleasing position, looking away from the knowing expression on the anthropomorph's face.

"I hear it's like that for most dragons," Siche conceded, leaning against the railing to the stairs leading up into the audience stands and folding her arms across her chest, watching impassively. "I remember that human you choose, too... seemed like a good bond, from the start, to me. I've seen a lot of bondings, you know, and you learn to spot the good ones."

There really wasn't much she could say to that. Siche flicked an ear, twitched her tail, and continued: "Kinda surprised he's not here. Don't you two live together?"

:Don't most pairs?: she asked.

"Some," Siche shrugged. "Where is he, then? Have to work, or something?"

:Or something,: Wiro answered miserably.

"You'd think people could get time off for something like this," Siche snorted.

I can't tell her... what if she-- calls security on him? Drugs are illegal-- aren't they?

But she didn't like lying, either.... And this was such a burden, worse, even, than the eggs had been, because there could be no happy ending if things went on as they were. :He's not really at work. He's just-- busy.:

"Busy." Siche arched a furry brow disbelievingly. "He must be mighty damn busy."

:It's... complicated....:

Siche Four clamored up onto the railing and perched there, resting her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. "Try me. I've got nowhere to go but my office, and nothing but work and insomnia there."

So, after a little hesitation, Wiro started to explain. And, surprisingly, it helped. 

Chapter Thirteen

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