Vignette: The Agony and the Ecstasy
Hatching Day finally comes, and Gabrion makes his father proud.
> ~=~ Do you hear me, son?'>
The sands were about ten times hotter than they'd been when he walked out on them to touch the eggs - how did that work? - and as he took his place in the semicircle and reached for Firistan's hand, Gabe realized he'd forgotten to pee before they left the barracks. Oops.
"That one's cracking," Firistan said, awed, and grabbed his hand tighter, and then it was all a blur of eggshells and dragonets that he'd scarcely remember in any kind of clarity, later. Taikrin got a brown, and Shad got a blue, and another blue stopped right in front of Firistan and Gabe and stared at them so long that Gabe thought he'd explode if something didn't happen. Finally, the dragon just sort of sniffed and moved on, and Gabe thought Firistan would crush his fingers into goo. "Oh Faranth oh Faranth oh Faranth," the dark-skinned boy was muttering over and over, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. "I thought he was gonna - but he didn't - oh Faranth, oh Faranth, oh Faranth."
Gabe shook his hand loose long enough to wipe the sweat off on his robe, then reached out to take Firistan's hand again, gently, hoping the other boy would take the hint and not squeeze his fingers off. "Look," Gabe said, "a bronze. And there's the gold." He watched the two dragons with a curious detachment. It was starting to feel as if the hatching didn't have anything to do with him, couldn't touch him - it was just happening around him, like things do, a stream flowing over and around the rock jutting up from the middle of its bed.
Firistan was saying something, but it sounded like an unintelligible babble, mixed in among the cracking and snapping of eggshells and the dull roar of conversation and cheers coming from the galleries. I must be sweating a lot, Gabe thought. He itched. He freed his hand once more to rub at his arm, and then to scratch, hard, trying to get at the itch that felt like it was under his skin.
<< G'brion. >>
He felt dizzy, he felt drunk, and his vision narrowed until he could see nothing else but the green in front of him: a perfectly ordinary hatchling, clumsy, even, her eyes whirling up at him expectantly. His skin burned and his face felt hot and his belly roiled with hunger. His breath stopped, and he felt coiled tight and full of potential energy: it was like that briefest of moments, that tiniest split second of weightlessness when the dragon has just leaped off the ledge, but before he's started to glide down to the bowl floor.
Then he was falling, plunging into the depths of her mind and soul, and she was with him, and they were together, and there was no one else in the world: nothing had ever existed, nor would again. There was only her.
<< G'brion. >>
Pterath.
o=~-~-~-~=o
When G'brion came out of the weyrling barracks, washed and dressed for the hatching feast, his father was standing outside waiting for him. Gabe ran to throw his arms around him, and they hugged each other hard and thumped each other on the back, and when they let go again, R'don took him by the shoulders with both hands, smiling with pride and love and approval. "Son," he said quietly, "we are so proud of you."
Gabe swallowed and smiled. It wasn't so much that he was embarrassed to cry - he had in the barracks while he was settling Pterath to sleep - but he didn't want to have to take the time to compose himself all over again. He was hungry; he wanted to eat. "Thanks," he said simply, but he couldn't help looking past R'don. Gederoth was right there, curled up on the ground with his tail tucked in beneath his paws, eyes whirling greenly at G'brion, but... He steeled himself. "Did, uh, did Mom see...?"
R'don lost his smile, and his mouth thinned, and there were old man lines on his face. He shook his head. Gabe felt his gut drop toward his shoes, but before he could lose it right there in the bowl, his father grabbed him up in a hug, again, and this time, held him tight. Even when Gabe would have backed away, Pops just held on and rubbed a hand up and down his back. "I'm sorry, son. I'm sorry. This is partly my fault; I should have intervened long before this. I'm going to have to have some serious talks with your mother, but just... one thing. Just know, this has nothing to do with you, Gabe. Not one sharding thing to do with you."
Gabe's face was hot and his throat burned and he buried his face in his father's shirt, just like he used to do when he was a little kid, and the old, soft flannel caught his tears. How could it not have anything to do with him?
"Do you hear me, son? This is about your mother and her need to see a mindhealer. It has not one sharding thing to do with you or the man you are. You hear me, Gabrion?"
He swallowed again, and decided this wasn't the moment to insist on his honorific. "Yeah, Pops." His words were muffled by the shirt, but he knew his father heard. "Yeah, I hear you."
And still R'don held him tight, and he was talking softly, words that Gabe only comprehended in snatches with his head spinning and buzzing and his stomach churning: "so proud" and "my son" and "always love you" and "gonna be alright."
> ~=~ Do you hear me, son?'>
The sands were about ten times hotter than they'd been when he walked out on them to touch the eggs - how did that work? - and as he took his place in the semicircle and reached for Firistan's hand, Gabe realized he'd forgotten to pee before they left the barracks. Oops.
"That one's cracking," Firistan said, awed, and grabbed his hand tighter, and then it was all a blur of eggshells and dragonets that he'd scarcely remember in any kind of clarity, later. Taikrin got a brown, and Shad got a blue, and another blue stopped right in front of Firistan and Gabe and stared at them so long that Gabe thought he'd explode if something didn't happen. Finally, the dragon just sort of sniffed and moved on, and Gabe thought Firistan would crush his fingers into goo. "Oh Faranth oh Faranth oh Faranth," the dark-skinned boy was muttering over and over, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. "I thought he was gonna - but he didn't - oh Faranth, oh Faranth, oh Faranth."
Gabe shook his hand loose long enough to wipe the sweat off on his robe, then reached out to take Firistan's hand again, gently, hoping the other boy would take the hint and not squeeze his fingers off. "Look," Gabe said, "a bronze. And there's the gold." He watched the two dragons with a curious detachment. It was starting to feel as if the hatching didn't have anything to do with him, couldn't touch him - it was just happening around him, like things do, a stream flowing over and around the rock jutting up from the middle of its bed.
Firistan was saying something, but it sounded like an unintelligible babble, mixed in among the cracking and snapping of eggshells and the dull roar of conversation and cheers coming from the galleries. I must be sweating a lot, Gabe thought. He itched. He freed his hand once more to rub at his arm, and then to scratch, hard, trying to get at the itch that felt like it was under his skin.
<< G'brion. >>
He felt dizzy, he felt drunk, and his vision narrowed until he could see nothing else but the green in front of him: a perfectly ordinary hatchling, clumsy, even, her eyes whirling up at him expectantly. His skin burned and his face felt hot and his belly roiled with hunger. His breath stopped, and he felt coiled tight and full of potential energy: it was like that briefest of moments, that tiniest split second of weightlessness when the dragon has just leaped off the ledge, but before he's started to glide down to the bowl floor.
Then he was falling, plunging into the depths of her mind and soul, and she was with him, and they were together, and there was no one else in the world: nothing had ever existed, nor would again. There was only her.
<< G'brion. >>
Pterath.
o=~-~-~-~=o
When G'brion came out of the weyrling barracks, washed and dressed for the hatching feast, his father was standing outside waiting for him. Gabe ran to throw his arms around him, and they hugged each other hard and thumped each other on the back, and when they let go again, R'don took him by the shoulders with both hands, smiling with pride and love and approval. "Son," he said quietly, "we are so proud of you."
Gabe swallowed and smiled. It wasn't so much that he was embarrassed to cry - he had in the barracks while he was settling Pterath to sleep - but he didn't want to have to take the time to compose himself all over again. He was hungry; he wanted to eat. "Thanks," he said simply, but he couldn't help looking past R'don. Gederoth was right there, curled up on the ground with his tail tucked in beneath his paws, eyes whirling greenly at G'brion, but... He steeled himself. "Did, uh, did Mom see...?"
R'don lost his smile, and his mouth thinned, and there were old man lines on his face. He shook his head. Gabe felt his gut drop toward his shoes, but before he could lose it right there in the bowl, his father grabbed him up in a hug, again, and this time, held him tight. Even when Gabe would have backed away, Pops just held on and rubbed a hand up and down his back. "I'm sorry, son. I'm sorry. This is partly my fault; I should have intervened long before this. I'm going to have to have some serious talks with your mother, but just... one thing. Just know, this has nothing to do with you, Gabe. Not one sharding thing to do with you."
Gabe's face was hot and his throat burned and he buried his face in his father's shirt, just like he used to do when he was a little kid, and the old, soft flannel caught his tears. How could it not have anything to do with him?
"Do you hear me, son? This is about your mother and her need to see a mindhealer. It has not one sharding thing to do with you or the man you are. You hear me, Gabrion?"
He swallowed again, and decided this wasn't the moment to insist on his honorific. "Yeah, Pops." His words were muffled by the shirt, but he knew his father heard. "Yeah, I hear you."
And still R'don held him tight, and he was talking softly, words that Gabe only comprehended in snatches with his head spinning and buzzing and his stomach churning: "so proud" and "my son" and "always love you" and "gonna be alright."