...Oooh, a visitor?...
"Hi! I'm Filamir! And you are? Oh shards, I love visitors, do you think you could stay for a while? I'd love the company, and you just have to try this new brew of klah I've discovered, it's incredible, darling!"
You blink. "Uh..." is all you manage to get in before he starts again.
"Wonderful! Oh, just wonderful! Now, come sit over here, and I'll tell you all about my..."
He's still talking, you realise, but you tune out just for a little while. Filamir seems like any normal man. Well... unless he speaks. Or moves. Medium-brown hair, big blue eyes and long eyelashes which he batted constantly, porcelain skin, and tight clothes that showed every inch of his deliciously toned body. Rather attractive, actually. If he didn't speak or move. His voice was touched with a lisp, and high-pitched for a full-grown man, and he moved like a forty-something woman who wished she was twenty-nine again.
The weyr in which you forcibly have been sat is the strangest you've ever seen. Instead of small rooms joined by corridors or stone arches, it's a simple room. A simple, large room. A simple, large and very, very pink room.
In one corner is a bed. The frame is made from some sort of metal, painted baby pink - the curls of the metal form little roses and heart-shapes along the head and the rounded feet are also reminiscent of hearts. The mattress is large and cushy with a snowy white eiderdown thrown over the top for extra comfort. Little white bunny-rabbit slippers sit neatly to one side.
In the other corner opposite is a triangular pool of some sort edged in pink leather and surrounded by scented candles. A spa bath, you realise. Remnants of bubbles around the edging suggest recent use.
In the centre of the room is a round table with seating for six - entertaining area, perhaps? You wonder how often it gets used.
"...and then I said to him," the fellow continues as you return to the one-sided conversation with a start, " 'If you're going to be like that, then maybe I won't even cut your hair!' " He stopped and laughed mightily at his own joke.
You titter along with him, wondering if there were an earlier punch line, or if that was it.
He stops and looks at you, one neatly-plucked eyebrow raised. "Now, wasn't that terribly inhospitable of me," he gushes, putting a gentle hand on your knee. You try not to look uncomfortable, and smile between clenched teeth. "I didn't even offer you that special klah I mentioned!"
"Oh, that's not..." you begin. Alas, speech, it seems, must only come from one end of the room.
"Don't be so silly, you silly thing!" he exclaims with a girlish giggle. "Here, I'll run and get you some right now."
He hurries off and you hear klah-making-sort-of-noises from the far end of the room. This is my chance, you think to yourself. I could run now. He'd never notice. You admit ruefully that you're probably right. He'd just come back and keep talking. Poor fellow. Couldn't leave him all alone yet. Maybe you should wait until one of his plentiful friends visits? Hmm.
When he returns, Filamir - there's something odd about that name, you remark silently - hands you a mug of this amazing new blend in a white porcelain mug adorned with pink and purple kittens. You mutter thanks, and take a sip. It tasted like... klah. Raising an eyebrow, you ask pointedly, "This is your special blend?"
He nods enthusiastically. "Yes! Isn't just the most incredible thing you've ever tasted, darling?"
It tasted like... klah.
"Anyway," he continues with a delicate roll of his eyes, and a flick of his hand, "You'll never guess what happened to me the other day." He stops for the first time since you arrived and you realise he wants you to actually guess.
"Uh..." Apparently that was sufficient.
"No! Try again." He waits again, eager as a puppy. It's a game, you see.
"Oh, fine I'll tell you, darling!" he gushes. "I was Searched!"
You blink, unable to believe this impossibility. This man was Searched to be a dragonrider? Were they mad!?
"Oh I know, I can hardly believe it myself! It's for a special clutch, you see, darling. And for a bronze! This bronze dragon is... Well, I've never seen such a beautiful beast, I tell you. And he's so perfect! Everything he says, I can sympathise - he was abandoned, I believe. Or maybe he's just special." This he says with a slight slur on his words, and you wonder momentarily if he's making fun of himself. The moment passes, however. "Anyway," he continues, "I'm waiting for the results to come in - there's more than one candidate per dragon, you see, darling." 'Darling', you note, seemed to be the word of the turn. "Isn't that just the most exciting thing you've ever heard!" More gushing. More knee-touching.
"Uh..." Go the articulation.
"Well anyways," he says as if suddenly remembering a long-forgotten chore. "I must return to my busy schedule." He sounded honestly distressed.
"Good, nice talking, thanks for the klah, bye!" you spit as fast as you possibly can and hurry out with as friendly a smile as you can manage without seeming too relieved. Boy, could the man talk!
"Later, darling!" you hear as you round the corner.
Darling, I Just Must Tell You...
...My name's Filamir. But you can call me Mirri, darling.
...Oh gosh, darling, never ask a lady her age! *giggle* Let's just say I'm more than 20 and less than 30.
...Human, darling, of course! how could I possibly have so much fun if I weren't human?
...Well, now that's a tricky question! Technically speaking, I'm a woman trapped in a man's body. Technically.
...And oh shards, I told you about being a candidate, didn't I, darling? Well, I'm a candidate *gloats* And the Searchrider came from the Healing Den, so that's where I go to Impress and oh shards, darling, did I tell you about the most beautiful bronze in the world?
There's the way back, darling, and I know you must leave me now. But please, do come back and visit me soon! Just let Hydee know - she's such a darling! - and she'll book you in.