Two Little Weyrlings
Location: Island Beach
Time: Late Afternoon on Day 22, Month 4, Turn 3
Players: J'lor, M'cay, K'tric, Tenzinth
Scene: M'cay and Tenzinth flies for the first time. On the heels of their departure, K'tric shows up with long hair and women troubles.
On a Western Island, Beach
The island's south-facing beach is long and narrow, tapering in broad curves to the east and west. The grey sand slopes up toward a short, rocky precipice. The cliff is about the height of a tall man, and several paths have been worn or cut into it. They lead to the treeline of a tropical forest, tall and shadowy even in the brightest sunshine.
Three islets are visible to the south, separated from the big island by relatively calm and shallow sea. The two nearest islet frames the silhouette of the farthest one and could be reached by capable swimmers. The third islet is far beyond the other two, a mere shape visible out to sea. Boats await at the shoreline for fishing and travel to the islets.
The dry and tropical warmth is sporting something novel: feeble white wisps skitter across the sky, the best the island's hot season can manage for clouds.
M'cay shuffles down towards the beach, his hands twisting around each other as he frets. Tenzinth walks beside him, proudly wearing and displaying his set of riding straps. M'cay fusses, trying to quadruple-check the fittings and seams as the bronze is walking, nearly getting bowled over as he runs around his dragon. Tenzinth patiently puts up with it until M'cay stumbles and the dragon has to spread his wings and do a hop-step to avoid crushing his rider. With a loving but stern rumble Tenzinth soothes the lad and M'cay resumes his nervous walking.
Walking from the weyrling clearing is J'lor, arms swinging, about as casual as they come. He tosses the young bronzerider an easy smile as he approaches, his eyes darting over the riding straps that Tenzinth wears. "He looks quite handsome in those," the weyrlingmaster notes idly. "Deep breath, M'cay. Are you ready for this?"
M'cay fairly quivers in fearful anticipation, "Yes, sir. I think so sir. Tenzinth says we are." He looks up at his dragon, and for a moment his agitations cease. The bronze shifts his body so that J'lor can see the straps more closely. His rider worked so hard on them, why not show them off a little? M'cay smoothes his riding jacket, tugging a bit on one sleeve. "I won't hurt him though, will I?" He just needs one more reassurance that his added weight won't injure his lifemate. Tenzinth's eyes pick up bright colors and he rumbles deep in his chest - a soft and gentle laughter.
J'lor smirks and shakes his head. "You will not, or we would not be standing here, M'cay. Tenzinth is strong and a fine size. Thirty-some feet to your five-and-change." J'lor bends down, one hand running lightly over the straps. He nods. "If you're ready, mount up the way we practiced."
M'cay gulps and then he can't seem to keep a silly grin off his face. Tenzinth croons quietly and offers a foreleg, and M'cay jumps up, scrambling nimbly atop his dragon. He's been up here of course, but...oh, it's simply too exciting! He buckles himself in, checking again to make sure everything is correct.
The bluerider smiles faintly. "If you might keep that foreleg out for a moment?" he asks of the bronze. Then he'll perch himself, reaching up to double-check that M'cay is strapped properly before dropping back down to the ground. "Now," he calls, his voice lifted to be heard when M'cay is way up there, "We're going to keep this short. Just circle around the beach once and come in for a landing. Understood?"
Tenzinth obliges the bluerider, holding his foreleg very steady. High above on his dragon, M'cay nods and lifts his arm to show that he's understood the orders. Just once around the beach and then land. "Glide or backwinged landing?" he asks. "How high do we go?" He doesn't want to get anything wrong this first time. Not a thing. Tenzinth, ever patient, is starting to fidget a bit now, eager to share the joys of flight with his rider.
"Stay within eyesight," the weyrlingmaster chuckles. "If you cannot see me, even as a dot on the ground, you're too high. Land without crashing is all I really wish to see. However you can best manage that. Tenzinth seems ready." His arm lifts high and then drops sharply to his side. The signal that the pair may launch.
M'cay holds his breath as Tenzinth places one foot slightly forward and then crouches. Checking his wing space and making sure all is clear, the large bronze springs up and forward, his wings sweeping down strongly. M'cay can't help but let out a whoop of surprise and elation as he feels his body leaving the ground, his mind locked to his dragon's. Tenzinth continues up, wing beats slow and steady as he heads to one end of the beach. Certainly not the quickest young dragon on the island, he shows great promise of stamina.
J'lor lifts one hand to shield his eyes as he watches the young pair launch into the air and fly away. He is, possibly, unaware that he is grinning as he observes this little ritual. The hatchlings they saw crawl out of eggs months ago, now in flight.
Tenzinth turns slowly but smoothly at the end of the beach, not so steep as to strain himself, but steep enough that M'cay flails for a more secure grasp on the straps. The bronze wings his way back towards J'lor and begins his decent, combining a gliding landing with a final moment of backwinging to settle down close to where he took off. He'll need some precision work, but the landing was a smooth one. High above, M'cay is beaming with tears streaming down his cheeks. "Is...is it like that every time?" he gasps down to J'lor.
"Well, I doubt it feels quite so new, each time, but there is always joy in flying. Or, at least, I have found it to be so." The bluerider walks toward the pair with an approving nod. "Well done. Very well done. You can begin to take short flights around the island. No more than ten minutes in the air to start, and certainly no betweening. But, it's a start, no?"
M'cay fumbles a bit with the buckles, so full of emotion is he. Sliding off his dragon he slips a bit but is deftly steadied by Tenzinth, who is practically glowing with pride. See? He said it'd be fine. M'cay straightens up and nods to his leader, sniffling a little bit but cataloguing his new orders. "Sir?" he asks a moment later, "What's going to happen when we get to Five Mines? Are the dragons going to stay there too? What if...what if High Reaches wants us to come there?" 'Us' being the Weyrlings of course. "I still don't feel confident..." Confident enough to avoid being put into a possibly bad situation.
Leaning forward, J'lor offers an arm to the descending weyrling, a small smile still curling his lips. "I wish I could say," the bluerider offers, "but I'm not sure. I doubt High reaches will ask for any of us to come. As I understand it, they should have eggs on the sands by now and enough to worry about with their own young dragons. If they ask for such a thing, we'll deal with it then. Nobody's going anywhere they do not wish to go."
M'cay bites his lip, "But what about those who would rather stay here on the island?" he asks in a very quiet - almost apologetic - whisper. Not that he wants to stay, but he knows some people did...he then sighs, "Sir, how did you get the courage to do right by Vellath? I'm always afraid I'm letting Tenzinth down." The dragon snorts softly, wuffling lovingly over his rider. Never.
"I suppose, in that, some will be traveling where they do not wish," J'lor notes with a small nod. "But to leave them behind would be death, and to stay here, in the end, would be the same. On the mainland, our options shall be less limited, I expect." The next question has the bluerider chuckling softly. "You won't let him down. He won't let you. Listen to your dragon, take his words to heart. I suspect Tenzinth has more confidence in you than you have in yourself. But he can see into you, and dragons do not lie."
M'cay smiles up at the man and nods, "Thank you, sir," he says again, most sincere. He's glad for the moment to talk to the bluerider alone, as well as his first magnificent flight with Tenzinth! "I'd best get him settled sir, and make sure the straps are still secure. Thank you again. No more than ten minutes, and no going between." He nods again and then salutes smartly.
K'tric arrives from the path that leads to the clearing.
K'tric has arrived.
"Do so. And have him walks a bit before letting him settle down. His muscles have heated. If he sleeps just now, he'll be sore when he wakes." The bluerider offers a final encouraging smile. "Well done today."
M'cay dips his head modestly at the praise and nods, not trusting his voice. He turns and hurries off, praising Tenzinth until they're both out of sight.
Tucking back his hair with a sigh, K'tric heads down the beach about the time M'cay is leaving, and he offers the bronzerider a quick smile as he passes. Then, he sees J'lor. "Hi!" he calls, as he veers that direction. "I have a question."
M'cay climbs the broad path to the clearing.
M'cay has left.
The bluerider is watching M'cay depart, so also sees K'tric approach. "Hello," he calls, hands pushing into his pockets. "I'll answer if I'm able, K'tric. What is it?"
"Okay," K'tric says, as he comes to a halt in front of J'lor. He studies the bluerider for a moment, then asks, "Who cuts your hair?"
Blink. Of all the questions the bluerider considered, that had not been one of them. "Oh. Ana used to. Then Lorna. Recently...I suppose I've just been cutting it myself. You need a haircut?"
"M'uri said I needed one before he'll finish talking to me," explains K'tric, nodding quickly. "He says I look like a girl."
Oh, now that is a frown. Hands come out of J'lor's pockets so that they can cross in front of his chest. "M'uri? And what has you talking with him?"
"D'rian said I should," replies K'tric, very earnestly. "He thinks it will help straighten me out. So I went to see him, and we talked about Aida--he thinks she doesn't really love me, but that's not true. But then he told me to get my hair cut and come back and talk more with him."
"K'tric...I'd rather you didn't. Continue to speak with M'uri," the bluerider is still frowning somewhat. "He has ideas I don't...we disagree on many things, and I don't particularly like the way he views some of the riders. I'd ask that you didn't take his words immediately to heart."
"I think I can help him, too, though," K'tric says, with a frown. "He seems very... bitter. Towards women. I think D'rian's mother did something to him, but he didn't want to talk about that. But I've had mindhealing classes, so I think I can help."
Skepticism, thy name is J'lor. Or so the pensive expression on the weyrlingmaster's face might suggest. "Just...be careful. I'd like to know what he tells you, if you might be willing to pass it along? And I'd like you to please keep in mind, as confident as M'uri likes to sound, he hasn't any more answers than any of us."
"Well, all right," K'tric says, nodding. He moves to sit down now, at J'lor's feet. "I can do that, I suppose. Do you want to know what he told me already?"
And so the bluerider sits as well, draping his arms over his knees. "Yes, I do."
As soon as J'lor sits, K'tric scoots over to lean up against him, unsurprisingly. "Well, he called me lots of names--green boy, screwy little shit, that sort of thing--and then he asked me why I was sent here. So I explained about the eggs, and Aida--he said she didn't really love me, like I said. He said she was happy to see me gone, and that women should only be kept until you get tired of them. Then you slap them on the ass and send them on their way. Oh, and he said E'sere had his balls nailed to the wall, which is impossible, because how do you nail them to stone?" He smirks. Then: "Did you know, today is the one-turn anniversary of the first time I ever met Aida?"
"I didn't know that, no." J'lor lowers his head, and closes his eyes as he sighs heavily. "And how much, of all of what he said to you, do you believe?"
"I love Aida," K'tric says simply, tilting his head up to look at J'lor, then propping it against J'lor's shoulder. "And I know she loves me, even though we only had a short time together. And I do think we're going to... Well, not get married, because I have Kasvatuth, but I want to weyrmate her, at least, and I want a big family. I don't think women are just for having sex with for a while and then getting rid of them when you're tired of them."
"May I ask you something, K'tric?" the bluerider asks after a beat of quiet. And then he asks anyhow, "What will you do? If you go back and find this Aida and she doesn't wish to be your weyrmate?"
"But she loves me," says K'tric in confusion, leaning up to half-turn and look at J'lor. "She loves me, and she will weyrmate me."
"But," J'lor asks again, "what if she doesn't? What will you do?"
"I don't understand," K'tric says, pulling further away and frowning. "She does. It doesn't matter, does it, what I'd do if she didn't? I'd... I'd let her go, if she really wanted me to, but." He shakes his head. Worriedly: "You don't think she loves me? You think she just used me, like M'uri said?"
"I wasn't there, K'tric. I could not say one way or the other," J'lor offers gently. "I only know that you met her some time ago, very briefly, and, as I understand it, she was in very trying circumstances. It is possible she's moved on, whatever you had. It's only...something worth thinking on. Better to be prepared for the worst, they say, even as you hope for the best."
K'tric shakes his head. "She left her weyrmate for me," he persists. "E'sere told me so. And she came to see me while they held me in the storeroom. No one else came, not even my family."
"E'sere told you she left her weyrmate? In what context?"This has J'lor quietly interested, his head turned to observe the other rider.
"When he came here," K'tric says, blinking. He's apparently a little soothed, because he moves to lean back again against the bluerider. "I asked him about her, and he said they'd gone their separate ways after I had been exiled. He didn't really know anything more than that, but."
"Then...she left her weyrmate, but why might remain unknown," J'lor supposes as gently as he can. "K'tric, I'd like your word you won't go off in search of Aida when we get back. I don't want to have to constantly ask Vellath the location of each weyrling. I'd like to trust you not to do anything ill advised."
"She came to see me," K'tric says once more, rather desperately. "But... I... I won't. I promise. I can wait until we get back to High Reaches. Or... could I write her a letter, at least?"
"If we can find a rider to deliver it, then I suppose you could. I'm not sure we'll be able to find such a rider though." J'lor's smile is soft. Almost apologetic. "I'm sorry."
"A runner, then?" suggests K'tric. "Five Mines will have runners, won't it?"
"One would hope," the bluerider says. "It's a unique situation. I simply do not know."
"I'll compose one, then--I can memorize it and then write it down later, when we get there," K'tric agrees, nodding solemnly and wiggling a little, excited. "Like my poems to her. I'll have to put one of those in there, too, of course." He's silent a moment, then adds, "I'm glad we're going home again."
J'lor only studies K'tric without making any mention of poems or letters or any such thing. He turns to look out to the ocean again and to sigh softly. "It's a good first step," is his quiet agreement.
"Yeah," agrees K'tric. "It is. Thank you, for taking us."
"We all decided," J'lor reminds him quietly.
"You gave us the option," K'tric points out in turn, fixing a bright smile on J'lor.
"Mmm. I suppose," the bluerider says with a small shrug. "It's getting late. Dinner will be starting soon. Have you finished your chores?"
"Yeah," agrees K'tric, nodding. "I want to get my hair cut today, though, so I think I'm going to try to get that done before dinner. I think I'll ask Donavon; he probably knows someone."
The bluerider sighs softly. "Off with you then. We'll speak again late. And please. Be careful with M'uri."
"Bye," K'tric says as he pushes himself to his feet. "I will be." Then, he turns, heading off toward camp again.
Time: Late Afternoon on Day 22, Month 4, Turn 3
Players: J'lor, M'cay, K'tric, Tenzinth
Scene: M'cay and Tenzinth flies for the first time. On the heels of their departure, K'tric shows up with long hair and women troubles.
On a Western Island, Beach
The island's south-facing beach is long and narrow, tapering in broad curves to the east and west. The grey sand slopes up toward a short, rocky precipice. The cliff is about the height of a tall man, and several paths have been worn or cut into it. They lead to the treeline of a tropical forest, tall and shadowy even in the brightest sunshine.
Three islets are visible to the south, separated from the big island by relatively calm and shallow sea. The two nearest islet frames the silhouette of the farthest one and could be reached by capable swimmers. The third islet is far beyond the other two, a mere shape visible out to sea. Boats await at the shoreline for fishing and travel to the islets.
The dry and tropical warmth is sporting something novel: feeble white wisps skitter across the sky, the best the island's hot season can manage for clouds.
M'cay shuffles down towards the beach, his hands twisting around each other as he frets. Tenzinth walks beside him, proudly wearing and displaying his set of riding straps. M'cay fusses, trying to quadruple-check the fittings and seams as the bronze is walking, nearly getting bowled over as he runs around his dragon. Tenzinth patiently puts up with it until M'cay stumbles and the dragon has to spread his wings and do a hop-step to avoid crushing his rider. With a loving but stern rumble Tenzinth soothes the lad and M'cay resumes his nervous walking.
Walking from the weyrling clearing is J'lor, arms swinging, about as casual as they come. He tosses the young bronzerider an easy smile as he approaches, his eyes darting over the riding straps that Tenzinth wears. "He looks quite handsome in those," the weyrlingmaster notes idly. "Deep breath, M'cay. Are you ready for this?"
M'cay fairly quivers in fearful anticipation, "Yes, sir. I think so sir. Tenzinth says we are." He looks up at his dragon, and for a moment his agitations cease. The bronze shifts his body so that J'lor can see the straps more closely. His rider worked so hard on them, why not show them off a little? M'cay smoothes his riding jacket, tugging a bit on one sleeve. "I won't hurt him though, will I?" He just needs one more reassurance that his added weight won't injure his lifemate. Tenzinth's eyes pick up bright colors and he rumbles deep in his chest - a soft and gentle laughter.
J'lor smirks and shakes his head. "You will not, or we would not be standing here, M'cay. Tenzinth is strong and a fine size. Thirty-some feet to your five-and-change." J'lor bends down, one hand running lightly over the straps. He nods. "If you're ready, mount up the way we practiced."
M'cay gulps and then he can't seem to keep a silly grin off his face. Tenzinth croons quietly and offers a foreleg, and M'cay jumps up, scrambling nimbly atop his dragon. He's been up here of course, but...oh, it's simply too exciting! He buckles himself in, checking again to make sure everything is correct.
The bluerider smiles faintly. "If you might keep that foreleg out for a moment?" he asks of the bronze. Then he'll perch himself, reaching up to double-check that M'cay is strapped properly before dropping back down to the ground. "Now," he calls, his voice lifted to be heard when M'cay is way up there, "We're going to keep this short. Just circle around the beach once and come in for a landing. Understood?"
Tenzinth obliges the bluerider, holding his foreleg very steady. High above on his dragon, M'cay nods and lifts his arm to show that he's understood the orders. Just once around the beach and then land. "Glide or backwinged landing?" he asks. "How high do we go?" He doesn't want to get anything wrong this first time. Not a thing. Tenzinth, ever patient, is starting to fidget a bit now, eager to share the joys of flight with his rider.
"Stay within eyesight," the weyrlingmaster chuckles. "If you cannot see me, even as a dot on the ground, you're too high. Land without crashing is all I really wish to see. However you can best manage that. Tenzinth seems ready." His arm lifts high and then drops sharply to his side. The signal that the pair may launch.
M'cay holds his breath as Tenzinth places one foot slightly forward and then crouches. Checking his wing space and making sure all is clear, the large bronze springs up and forward, his wings sweeping down strongly. M'cay can't help but let out a whoop of surprise and elation as he feels his body leaving the ground, his mind locked to his dragon's. Tenzinth continues up, wing beats slow and steady as he heads to one end of the beach. Certainly not the quickest young dragon on the island, he shows great promise of stamina.
J'lor lifts one hand to shield his eyes as he watches the young pair launch into the air and fly away. He is, possibly, unaware that he is grinning as he observes this little ritual. The hatchlings they saw crawl out of eggs months ago, now in flight.
Tenzinth turns slowly but smoothly at the end of the beach, not so steep as to strain himself, but steep enough that M'cay flails for a more secure grasp on the straps. The bronze wings his way back towards J'lor and begins his decent, combining a gliding landing with a final moment of backwinging to settle down close to where he took off. He'll need some precision work, but the landing was a smooth one. High above, M'cay is beaming with tears streaming down his cheeks. "Is...is it like that every time?" he gasps down to J'lor.
"Well, I doubt it feels quite so new, each time, but there is always joy in flying. Or, at least, I have found it to be so." The bluerider walks toward the pair with an approving nod. "Well done. Very well done. You can begin to take short flights around the island. No more than ten minutes in the air to start, and certainly no betweening. But, it's a start, no?"
M'cay fumbles a bit with the buckles, so full of emotion is he. Sliding off his dragon he slips a bit but is deftly steadied by Tenzinth, who is practically glowing with pride. See? He said it'd be fine. M'cay straightens up and nods to his leader, sniffling a little bit but cataloguing his new orders. "Sir?" he asks a moment later, "What's going to happen when we get to Five Mines? Are the dragons going to stay there too? What if...what if High Reaches wants us to come there?" 'Us' being the Weyrlings of course. "I still don't feel confident..." Confident enough to avoid being put into a possibly bad situation.
Leaning forward, J'lor offers an arm to the descending weyrling, a small smile still curling his lips. "I wish I could say," the bluerider offers, "but I'm not sure. I doubt High reaches will ask for any of us to come. As I understand it, they should have eggs on the sands by now and enough to worry about with their own young dragons. If they ask for such a thing, we'll deal with it then. Nobody's going anywhere they do not wish to go."
M'cay bites his lip, "But what about those who would rather stay here on the island?" he asks in a very quiet - almost apologetic - whisper. Not that he wants to stay, but he knows some people did...he then sighs, "Sir, how did you get the courage to do right by Vellath? I'm always afraid I'm letting Tenzinth down." The dragon snorts softly, wuffling lovingly over his rider. Never.
"I suppose, in that, some will be traveling where they do not wish," J'lor notes with a small nod. "But to leave them behind would be death, and to stay here, in the end, would be the same. On the mainland, our options shall be less limited, I expect." The next question has the bluerider chuckling softly. "You won't let him down. He won't let you. Listen to your dragon, take his words to heart. I suspect Tenzinth has more confidence in you than you have in yourself. But he can see into you, and dragons do not lie."
M'cay smiles up at the man and nods, "Thank you, sir," he says again, most sincere. He's glad for the moment to talk to the bluerider alone, as well as his first magnificent flight with Tenzinth! "I'd best get him settled sir, and make sure the straps are still secure. Thank you again. No more than ten minutes, and no going between." He nods again and then salutes smartly.
K'tric arrives from the path that leads to the clearing.
K'tric has arrived.
"Do so. And have him walks a bit before letting him settle down. His muscles have heated. If he sleeps just now, he'll be sore when he wakes." The bluerider offers a final encouraging smile. "Well done today."
M'cay dips his head modestly at the praise and nods, not trusting his voice. He turns and hurries off, praising Tenzinth until they're both out of sight.
Tucking back his hair with a sigh, K'tric heads down the beach about the time M'cay is leaving, and he offers the bronzerider a quick smile as he passes. Then, he sees J'lor. "Hi!" he calls, as he veers that direction. "I have a question."
M'cay climbs the broad path to the clearing.
M'cay has left.
The bluerider is watching M'cay depart, so also sees K'tric approach. "Hello," he calls, hands pushing into his pockets. "I'll answer if I'm able, K'tric. What is it?"
"Okay," K'tric says, as he comes to a halt in front of J'lor. He studies the bluerider for a moment, then asks, "Who cuts your hair?"
Blink. Of all the questions the bluerider considered, that had not been one of them. "Oh. Ana used to. Then Lorna. Recently...I suppose I've just been cutting it myself. You need a haircut?"
"M'uri said I needed one before he'll finish talking to me," explains K'tric, nodding quickly. "He says I look like a girl."
Oh, now that is a frown. Hands come out of J'lor's pockets so that they can cross in front of his chest. "M'uri? And what has you talking with him?"
"D'rian said I should," replies K'tric, very earnestly. "He thinks it will help straighten me out. So I went to see him, and we talked about Aida--he thinks she doesn't really love me, but that's not true. But then he told me to get my hair cut and come back and talk more with him."
"K'tric...I'd rather you didn't. Continue to speak with M'uri," the bluerider is still frowning somewhat. "He has ideas I don't...we disagree on many things, and I don't particularly like the way he views some of the riders. I'd ask that you didn't take his words immediately to heart."
"I think I can help him, too, though," K'tric says, with a frown. "He seems very... bitter. Towards women. I think D'rian's mother did something to him, but he didn't want to talk about that. But I've had mindhealing classes, so I think I can help."
Skepticism, thy name is J'lor. Or so the pensive expression on the weyrlingmaster's face might suggest. "Just...be careful. I'd like to know what he tells you, if you might be willing to pass it along? And I'd like you to please keep in mind, as confident as M'uri likes to sound, he hasn't any more answers than any of us."
"Well, all right," K'tric says, nodding. He moves to sit down now, at J'lor's feet. "I can do that, I suppose. Do you want to know what he told me already?"
And so the bluerider sits as well, draping his arms over his knees. "Yes, I do."
As soon as J'lor sits, K'tric scoots over to lean up against him, unsurprisingly. "Well, he called me lots of names--green boy, screwy little shit, that sort of thing--and then he asked me why I was sent here. So I explained about the eggs, and Aida--he said she didn't really love me, like I said. He said she was happy to see me gone, and that women should only be kept until you get tired of them. Then you slap them on the ass and send them on their way. Oh, and he said E'sere had his balls nailed to the wall, which is impossible, because how do you nail them to stone?" He smirks. Then: "Did you know, today is the one-turn anniversary of the first time I ever met Aida?"
"I didn't know that, no." J'lor lowers his head, and closes his eyes as he sighs heavily. "And how much, of all of what he said to you, do you believe?"
"I love Aida," K'tric says simply, tilting his head up to look at J'lor, then propping it against J'lor's shoulder. "And I know she loves me, even though we only had a short time together. And I do think we're going to... Well, not get married, because I have Kasvatuth, but I want to weyrmate her, at least, and I want a big family. I don't think women are just for having sex with for a while and then getting rid of them when you're tired of them."
"May I ask you something, K'tric?" the bluerider asks after a beat of quiet. And then he asks anyhow, "What will you do? If you go back and find this Aida and she doesn't wish to be your weyrmate?"
"But she loves me," says K'tric in confusion, leaning up to half-turn and look at J'lor. "She loves me, and she will weyrmate me."
"But," J'lor asks again, "what if she doesn't? What will you do?"
"I don't understand," K'tric says, pulling further away and frowning. "She does. It doesn't matter, does it, what I'd do if she didn't? I'd... I'd let her go, if she really wanted me to, but." He shakes his head. Worriedly: "You don't think she loves me? You think she just used me, like M'uri said?"
"I wasn't there, K'tric. I could not say one way or the other," J'lor offers gently. "I only know that you met her some time ago, very briefly, and, as I understand it, she was in very trying circumstances. It is possible she's moved on, whatever you had. It's only...something worth thinking on. Better to be prepared for the worst, they say, even as you hope for the best."
K'tric shakes his head. "She left her weyrmate for me," he persists. "E'sere told me so. And she came to see me while they held me in the storeroom. No one else came, not even my family."
"E'sere told you she left her weyrmate? In what context?"This has J'lor quietly interested, his head turned to observe the other rider.
"When he came here," K'tric says, blinking. He's apparently a little soothed, because he moves to lean back again against the bluerider. "I asked him about her, and he said they'd gone their separate ways after I had been exiled. He didn't really know anything more than that, but."
"Then...she left her weyrmate, but why might remain unknown," J'lor supposes as gently as he can. "K'tric, I'd like your word you won't go off in search of Aida when we get back. I don't want to have to constantly ask Vellath the location of each weyrling. I'd like to trust you not to do anything ill advised."
"She came to see me," K'tric says once more, rather desperately. "But... I... I won't. I promise. I can wait until we get back to High Reaches. Or... could I write her a letter, at least?"
"If we can find a rider to deliver it, then I suppose you could. I'm not sure we'll be able to find such a rider though." J'lor's smile is soft. Almost apologetic. "I'm sorry."
"A runner, then?" suggests K'tric. "Five Mines will have runners, won't it?"
"One would hope," the bluerider says. "It's a unique situation. I simply do not know."
"I'll compose one, then--I can memorize it and then write it down later, when we get there," K'tric agrees, nodding solemnly and wiggling a little, excited. "Like my poems to her. I'll have to put one of those in there, too, of course." He's silent a moment, then adds, "I'm glad we're going home again."
J'lor only studies K'tric without making any mention of poems or letters or any such thing. He turns to look out to the ocean again and to sigh softly. "It's a good first step," is his quiet agreement.
"Yeah," agrees K'tric. "It is. Thank you, for taking us."
"We all decided," J'lor reminds him quietly.
"You gave us the option," K'tric points out in turn, fixing a bright smile on J'lor.
"Mmm. I suppose," the bluerider says with a small shrug. "It's getting late. Dinner will be starting soon. Have you finished your chores?"
"Yeah," agrees K'tric, nodding. "I want to get my hair cut today, though, so I think I'm going to try to get that done before dinner. I think I'll ask Donavon; he probably knows someone."
The bluerider sighs softly. "Off with you then. We'll speak again late. And please. Be careful with M'uri."
"Bye," K'tric says as he pushes himself to his feet. "I will be." Then, he turns, heading off toward camp again.