|
You're So Vain
Another week had passed, the storms had mostly stopped, and all that was left was about three feet of snow on the ground. It made travel very difficult, and the mages mostly wanted nothing to do with it. They had more important things to do.
Instead, those without excessive magical or paranormal powers were digging the town out. However, they were quickly running out of places to toss all the snow. The children made much of the tossed snow piles into forts or sculptures.
Remarkably, Oberon was doing a bit of work with the shovel crews. The crews tossed the snow into a pile, Obie teleported the pile somewhere else. Another island, out to sea, wherever he wanted to at the time. Sometimes it was so far away that no one could see where it went. That didn't bother anyone, really, except when one rogue transportation landed in the Godly Empire, which was too far south for snow, even in the coldest winter. It landed on a few people, who were very upset about the whole ordeal for a good number of days afterwards. The rest of it didn't land on anyone of great importance.
And Sharona was beginning to be able to talk through her eggshell. It was a very very happy day the day Kip and Ira realized it. It was a much much happier day when Clari and Gunnhild realized it.
And Sharona, while often in the company of Löwenherzchen, began to adventure off on her own. Or so she often imagined. She listened very well to the stories of her fathers and their friends. And through the stories, she imagined, more or less, what the world must look like.
It was vast, she decided. Much bigger than this eggshell she inhabited. It had to be, she decided, since there were voices of people she didn't know the feel of filtering through. Or else perhaps, she considered, these voices were herself or the walls talking to her.
No, she decided. Something deep within her told her no wall could think of the things the voices told her of.
And she loved the stories. Because every time she heard one, her imagination carried her to some other, different place. Someplace where there were discernable shapes, different noises, different things to see and feel and do.
She hadn't been doing a lot of doing since she'd been an egg. She'd been cold an awful lot, but she'd been warm, too. She listened when her fathers thought she was sleeping. They all wondered what color she would be. One said he didn't care, so long as she wasn't some justice-freak of an ice shard, whatever that meant. The other, he wouldn't mind any color at all, so long as she was happy.
Sharona herself was beginning to become very antsy. She dreaded the waiting, but she dreaded more the bursting forth from her walls that her fathers told her would come soon. She was ripe for the opening. Or something.
She tried to move, often, but it didn't work too well. Instead, with a sigh, she would realize too much that she had no idea what was going on outside and so she couldn't compensate. She imagined bonded dragons didn't have this problem. They could transmit images with their bondmates. They could know what their bondmates knew.
She thought about this, though. A lot of the bonded pairs she knew were very lonely. She wasn't. She had many voices talking to her or thinking to her at all times. It made her happy, knowing she wasn't alone. And she had friends already. Löwenherzchen certainly seemed like a good friend, even if it was her father's sufan.
Secretly she wanted one, too. She had heard stories of how her father, Kipfel, had been when he hadn't had Löwen. It made her respect the creature greatly.
The humans were all so varied, she noticed also. Some had never changed. Some had changed greatly. Sharona suspected if you had asked any of her friends on World, Annabel would not have settled down and become a practical housewife over a man. Sandrylene would not have been a leader. Tren would not be so easy-going and light-hearted. But Tor, he would be the same. Xylon would be the same. Astrid would be the same.
It was strange. Sometimes the person changed for the dragon. Sometimes the dragon changed for the person.
She listened.
Someone was coming up the stairs. She reached out, trying to touch the person's mind like Löwen could.
*You don't want to do that,* was Kipfel's familiar growl.
*I want to play in the snow!* Sharona whined.
*It's too cold for eggs,* Kipfel replied calmly.
*But...*
*No.*
And that was that. He went into another room, leaving Sharona alone again.
What she wanted right now, more than anything, was someone to be with her. Why, though? She considered this.
Oh. That's right. Because she was BORED. She wanted some entertainment here, people.
*Well,* she reasoned out loud. *My favourite entertainment is when people sing songs and tell stories, or tell stories with songs. So.... I can do that, right?*
She thought about it a little.
And cleared her throat.
And laughed at how silly she felt.
*I am an eeeegggggg,* she sang.
*Just a little egggggg. Daddy says I'm blue, And spotted through and through, and I'm a little eeeeegggggg....*
She giggled more.
*Someday I will haaaaatch. Hatch with a big craaaaack. Least that's what Daddy says, and I'll have horns upon my head, But now I'm just an eeeeggggg...*
*When I hatch I'll be a wyyyyrrrmmmm...* she giggled, quite enjoying herself. *One to squeak and squiiiiirm. Wiggling here and there, breathing actual air, that's when I'll be a wyyyrrrmmm.*
She continued to giggle for a moment and then composed herself enough to keep singing.
*But now I'm just an eeeggggg. Round and without leeeeegs. No way to get around, can't make a single sound, 'cause now I'm just an eeeeggggg...*
*But soon I'll be a wyyyrrrrmmm. A cute and pretty wyrrrrmmm. I'll have fun and games, like children down the lane, when I am a wyyyrrrrmmm.*
She continued giggling and then noticed someone coming up the stairs.
She stopped singing, but couldn't stop giggling. Löwen wanted to be let in on the joke, but Sharona couldn't stop laughing long enough to explain. So, the Sufan left.
And then she was bored again. She sighed and looked around, listening for something, anything really. There was the fire, and the people outside, clearing out a path from the Tower to the Town. And there was Kipfel, making a mess of the room next door in a temper tantrum.
She considered this a moment. He certainly did have a mean temper, she realized. Even Löwen couldn't always get the better of him. And when he was mad, he was mad in German, at least that's what Ira called the strange tongue he used.
He was certainly using it now, she realized, boggling in the darkness of her shell.
She was amazed, though, because he was never upset in the same room as she was in. As though he didn't want her to see him angry, or maybe didn't want to hurt her. Grandma Gunnhild had said that he was a black, and that was the darkest, meanest type of dragon there was. But he was so nice to her.
She couldn't figure it out. She couldn't figure him out, and she couldn't figure anyone else out. She decided it must be because she wasn't bonded to a human, so they didn't make sense to her.
That must be it.
Still, the language, no matter how angry, had a certain cadence to it that made her feel safe and comfortable. She drifted to sleep listening to it.
***
Kipfel was curled up in front of the fire on one of the big overstuffed chairs in the Tower. This one was obviously "his", since it was full of talon marks from getting up and down off of it. He stared into the fire, no matter how much it hurt his eyes. It certainly numbed his mind of worry.
He had gotten word today that his children had all been popped off to random worlds, dimensions, spaces. All he had left was Sharona. He stared into the fire sadly. Löwen had tried to cheer him up, but that wasn't the sufan's specialty. It actually had to try to achieve anything in that department, and that just wasn't happening for the ferrety green creature.
Ira had tried to talk to him. That had just made him mad and unsociable. Then his mother tried to talk to him. And Gunnhild.
What it came down to was *I don't want my children to think I didn't love them so I chucked them to some poor shmuck to take care of them because I couldn't.* He couldn't be sure how his children were, though, not for real, not until they hatched.
He took a deep breath. *I want them to know us before their shantel,* he said quietly. He had been crying, and he didn't want anyone to know it, so he had raged for a good half hour in this room, which was mostly set apart from the rest of the Tower and the workers below. *Is that so wrong?*
Löwen shook its head. It certainly didn't see anything wrong with that.
Kip sighed and let out a cross between a keen and a growl. *Regulations,* he spat. *Rules and freaking regulations.*
He sighed and shook his head. *I'm going to do something about this,* he decided.
Löwen wanted to know what, but before it could ask, the black was on his feet and his way out. The sufan started to follow, only to get a door slammed in its face. It stamped in indignance and scratched at the door. Maybe someone would let it out.
***
Sharona strained to listen. She heard music outside. Someone walking up the stairs, singing. A man... She listened more. Who sounded like.... She couldn't tell.
Then she thought of stretching to recognize the mindprint. But no. She was too young. And she didn't even know if anyone but Löwen could do something like that. She sulked.
But as she sulked she was quiet and could hear the words.
"Lai la lai. Lai la lai lai lai la lai. Lai la lai. Lai la lai lai lai lai lai lai lai la lai. And I'm laying out my winter clothes, wishing I were gone, going home. Where the New York City winters weren't bleeding me, leadin' me to go on home. In the clearing stands a Boxer an a fighter by his trade, and he carries the reminders of every glove that laid him down or cut him til he cried out in his anger and his shame 'I am leaving I am leaving' but the fighter still remains, yes he still remains..."
*Tor!* Sharona chirped with glee and tried to jump, but that didn't work at all. Instead, she felt the eerie, sicking motion of her egg rocking too far and too hard.
She let out a panicked shriek and felt herself stop.
"Whoa there, partner," Tor said with a chuckle. "Looks like you were trying to ride a wild horse or something."
*You were singing,* Sharona observed.
"Yeah, well, I do that."
*I liked the song.*
"I don't."
*Well, then may I have it?*
Tor laughed. "What do you mean? You can't 'have' a song."
*Sure! You teach it to me, and then you can forget it!*
Tor blinked. "Umm. Doesn't work that way, Sharona. When you know something, you don't usually just forget it away because you want to."
*Oh. ... Is that why Daddy's angry a lot?*
Tor sucked air in through his teeth. He radiated nervousness. "Yeah, see, Daddy has a few issues all his own and likes to bring them up at whatever time is most inopportune for others."
*Oh. But Daddy doesn't seem to mind.*
"Because Daddy's a callous, insensative jerk a lot of times," Tor muttered.
*That's not nice to say about your bondmate!*
"What?" Tor asked, blinking. "Oh that Daddy. He minds. He minds a lot. He gets creepy and quiet and then really really volatile when your other Daddy is mad and being a jackass."
*What's that mean?*
"What?"
*That word.*
"Jackass? Err... It's not a good word. Forget Uncle Tor said it, okay?"
*Not that word. Daddy uses that word all the time. I mean that other word. V... voh... volleytiles.*
"Volatile? It means you think he might explode any minute now."
Sharona gasped. *Oh no! We have to stop him! I don't want Daddy to explode! Daddy would be sad if Daddy exploded! Then we'd be all alone, just Daddy and me!*
"This is such a weird conversation," Tor muttered. "By 'explode' I mean get very very very very very mad and try to hurt things because it's not nice to hurt people."
*Oh. So Daddy's not going to go BOOM!!!! ?*
"Um. No."
*Whew!*
Tor laughed a little. "Speaking of... erm... Daddy, have you seen him?"
*I was taking a nap. But before then, he was reading books.*
"Uh. Other Daddy."
*Oh. He and Löwen were in that other room over there.* She tried to point, but she only succeeded in rocking her egg. *Whoa!*
Tor stopped her rocking with his foot.
*Thanks! But he's not yelling anymore.*
"Which means he's not in there."
*He might be.*
"I guess I should check, huh?"
Sharona tried to nod to him, but she just rocked her egg again. *Gheeeee,* she sighed.
"You'll be out soon enough, Roanie."
*Roanie?*
"Is it okay if I call you that?"
*I dunno...*
"Otherwise I can't help but think of a very loose groupie."
*Well, maybe someone should tighten the groupie. What is it? Like a nut or something?*
"Um. Not quite."
*Oh.*
Sharona heard the door open and the pattering of little feet as Löwenherzchen bolted out of the door, down the stairs, and out of sight for Tor and Sharona.
"He was in a hurry," Tor said as he stepped out of the room.
Sharona strained to listen to him in the other room and was surprised when he came back.
"Not in there," he said with a sigh. "But left Löwen behind. You said he was angry, right?"
*I dunno.*
"Right. When's Kipfel not angry."
*When he's around me and Daddy and Löwen.*
Tor noticed Sharona balanced that umlaut perfectly. "Right."
*But he was talking in what Daddy calls German.*
"Well then he was certainly angry."
*Oh.* She had thought so.
Tor sighed. "I'd better go try and find him," he decided. "It's kind of important."
*Can I come?* Sharona asked.
"Sorry, kiddo. I don't think Daddy or Daddy would like it very much if we were to hang out a lot. They think I have bonding cooties or something."
Sharona let out a bothered growl. No one was letting her out of this room! It made her so mad!
She pouted and sulked as Tor went down the stairs, and when he was long gone, she made a pouty, annoyed sound and tried to smack her shell with her tail. She wasn't small enough for that anymore, though, and she set the shell a'rocking.
And with the little rock, she got an idea. She giggled to herself wickedly. She'd get out of this stinky old room!
She flung herself against the wall of her shell as hard as she could as many times as she could. The egg began to spin and rock and roll.
And bounce!
*HAH! I found you, steps!* she giggled. *Hello world, here I come!*
| 