Dinner was more stress than Daynoren wanted, but he had expected as much, and was prepared. He, his brother, his father, his aunt, Tantra, Frux, and Kaur seemed like the largest single group there, all clumped together up beside the dragons' end of the table, discounting the military types at the other end of the table, full of both candidates and the bonded pairs there for support of their fellows. Daynoren vaguely wished that his own family was more of a support and less of a distraction.

At least the larger group had enough chattering going on to keep everyone busy. Darkil's attempts at conversation were, as usual, stilted and out of practice. Someone had told Daynoren once that, when his mother was still alive, the man had actually been fairly social, if quiet; he wasn't sure if he believed it. Aunt Dana was unusually quiet, as well, though every now and then she would murmur things to Darkil and casting stony glances Daynoren's way. Catame had run out of things to say, after the first few minutes, and it seemed like Tantra's anxiety at being out in public was finally affecting him, or he'd just run out of resistance to it. Kaur had never been particularly talkative, so tonight's general silence was hardly a surprise, either. So, Daynoren was left to hold up the bulk of the conversation, largely through playfully sarcastic banter with Frux. There weren't even any interesting daemons or other candidates seated with him, like there had been last time, with Catame and Tantra blocking him from the candidates and Kaur between him and the guests on his other side.

The dinner was fantastic, of course, even better than the last bonding ceremony banquet. That he was still not allowed wine was annoying, but he put up with it with a smile. Maybe next time he'd be considered old enough. He'd be almost fourteen then, after all, but then, if thirteen wasn't considered old enough here in the city, why would fourteen? Perhaps some city children were not used to wine, like the rural nobility were, so he could partly understand. But still. Water was just so... boring.

Complaining, even in his own mind, was one more way of distracting himself from the tedious ceremony that would follow. By the time dessert was finished, Daynoren was quite ready for it all to just be over with, even if he had to stand there alone while everyone else was chosen. Anything seemed better than making all this idle conversation and holding up his pleasant smile and calm fascade.

Finally, an Air dragon from the hallway into the bonding complex came out to announce that the young dragons inside were nearly ready, and the pompous-looking Light at the head of the table shot to his feet, obviously quite ready to begin a very dull speech. Daynoren had heard of how incredibly boring this particular dragon, Naio, was, from the dragonets. He prepared himself for at least the appearance of attention, like he would in a particularly boring class, and fixed a polite smile on his face.

Before Naio could do more than greet the gathered candidates and guests, though, a crash from the wall near the tables distracted everyone-- Daynoren included! He looked sharply that way, blinking at the toppled potted plant-- plant, ha, more like a small tree!-- and the red and black daemon who had knocked it over and was now trying to disentangle herself from the overturned dirt, broken pottery, and catching branches. Daynorne recognized her as one of the candidates, and he couldn't have been the only one to snicker quietly at her stunned-deer expression when she realized everyone was staring at her. Catame elbowed him lightly for the mockery, giving him a righteous little glare. He subsided at once, trying to look innocent.

"Akija, there you are!" called Aloia to the cat-like daemon, proving that yes, the daemon was supposed to be there, even if she obviously wasn't supposed to be knocking over the decorations. After a brief explanation to the indignant Naio, she was motioned to her seat so the stuffy Light dragon could continue his speech.

Or try to. Again, he was interrupted.

"Excuse me."

One of the daemons he had, had the privilege to chat with at the previous bonding stood there, her arms-- all four of them-- full of a very large basket, which was in turn full of shivering eggs. Ah, the daemon-dragon eggs. Day had heard of them, briefly, but hadn't actually cared much. He doubted that whatever came out of them would be interested in him, either-- or he wouldn't be very interested in them, at least, not without getting to know them first.

Naio was livid, but the daemoness firm. "If you don't mind, sir dragon, these little beasts are about ready to break shell, and they're not as patient as the poor kits you've got waiting outside for you to shut up. Either get to the point very quickly, or you're going to still be talking as the bondings are going on." Daynoren decided he liked her; it was not quite as suave as he would have done, but certainly did get her point across, and with results! Anything that got everyone on with this, Daynoren approved of. 

"Very well," Naio growled. "Candidates, please rise and await the kits."

This time it was Catame who nudged Daynoren into action, with another, lighter elbow to the ribs, distracting him from the urge to just stay seated and pretend he wasn't really a candidate. He flashed his little brother an arch look, though, and rose gracefully, as many others did not, more eager and anxious than they were concerned with appearances. Maybe none of them knew that if you faked something long enough, sometimes it became easier to feel, like calm. It wasn't working very well tonight, for Daynoren, but it was a little relaxing to at least focus on the way the fabric of his outfit and the flow of his hair moved with each careful step, making sure he looked his best. He cold feel his aunt's look of disapproval on his back, but he just walked all the straighter for it. It was Darkil's expectant hope and Catame's childlike faith that was harder to take, but as he settled into the somewhat uneven line of candidates, facing the growing bunch of dragonet kits on a wide platform-- they were getting fancier, he thought absently-- opposite them, he managed a smile and wink for the boy. Catame dimpled back at him encouragingly.

A final candidate joined the bunch, the tall, dark-haired one who was supposedly the one too sensitive to magic for spells to be used around him, shuffling out from the hallway. The red daemon waved frantically at him. Daynoren just wanted everything to be over with so he could go back to his room, hopefully avoiding Darkil and Dana in the process. He didn't feel like being charming in the face of his aunt's wrath, much less his father's disappointment. Catame's apologies and reassurance, he might be able to stomach, but he didn't really know if he'd want to bother once the whole charade was finished.

This time there was no awkward, pregnant silence that required a shove or a mutter to get things moving: one dragonet simply started forward as soon as the final candidate was in place, grabbed a scroll, and made his way to his choice. The last to come ended up the first to bond. Daynoren would have been amused at the irony if he'd been in the mood to be amused. The flash of light and magic from that first bonding encouraged more dragons to come forward, making more pairings. Daynoren was unsurprised to find himself one of four unbonded after the little Water Aesta made her choice, one of the foreign military types. Well, at least he wasn't alone standing there, yet, though there were still the daemon eggs to consider.

Then, though, into the pause after that last flash of light, one more dragon-child broke free of the line of waiting kits and sauntered forward, to the half-empty basket of scrolls. Daynoren wasn't sure whether what he felt, watching her, was relief, amusement, anticipation, or some combination of those and more. It was Novitas, and when her eyes accidentally met his, they were full of a superiority that didn't quite cover up anxiety. She had made the choice no one else thought she was going to make, and she was coming for him.

Neither of them said anything, and Novitas didn't even look at him though his eyes never left hers, as she approached nonchalantly, scroll balanced gracefully on her forehead between the jewel-like armor stones embedded in her brows and her fin. No three-legged hobbling for Novitas, no nasty carrying of scroll in her mouth, of course not. Daynoren, had he been four-legged, would have done similarly, he expected.

"So," she asserted as she finally reached him, looking him fully in the face without meeting his eyes, "you waited around for me." Her tone was ironic, her expression both bored and amused, and Daynoren straightened in response, donning his most mockingly friendly expression.

"Of course, my dear Novitas," he answered loftily. "Have you something for me?"

It was an obvious question, and deserved the answer it received: "Maybe." Her eyes were fixed on a light-globe hovering by the nearest wall as she sat, transferred scroll from head to paw, and held it in Day's direction. He knew better than to chuckle at her, because he did know she was a very private dragon, and this wasn't a step he had expected of her. At all. Even so, as he reached out to touch it, he couldn't help a small grin of amusement, pride, and pleasure. All that worrying, for nothing.