VIGNETTE: But He Did Care.
Date: Day 1, Month 5, Turn 21
Synopsis: K'del does his moping thing over Crom stuff, and his sister.
During the sevendays that followed that disastrous discovery at Crom, K'del found himself wishing - fleetingly, but more than once - that Iovniath would take it into her head to rise, just to rid him of the headaches he was currently facing.
Logically, though, he knew that that would probably be the worst thing that could happen: it'd be the end of his career, signing off his Weyrleadership as a dismal failure, never mind the good things he'd done. No one ever remembered those, when matters closed on such a failure.
But it would be easier. Someone else could deal with the fallout, could blame K'del for all the problems and then move on from it, untainted. The person who came in to fix things. The person that-- what? Knew better than to believe in harper signed agreements? Didn't try new things. Didn't....
Whatever it was.
Which wasn't to say that, given his time again, K'del would have done the same thing: of course not. But the idea? The original idea? That had been sound; he still believed that wholeheartedly. His only fault was trusting Lord Crom, Holder Browden, all of them.
And his own riders.
That was one of the worst things. He could forgive outsiders their potential treachery, but the possibility that there were people in the weyr who'd not only disapprove of the whole deal, but actively sabotage it, even if it meant consorting with the enemy to do so? That hurt.
What did they think? That we could just laze our way through the Interval, not bother with trying anything new to make sure the holders still appreciated us? Are they so complacent that they can't see the problems that could arise from that?
Apparently.
He'd thought about escaping to the field for a little while, to be alone with his thoughts, but there were guards posted: guards, making sure that no one touched the bones, that everything stayed exactly as it was until a decision had been made. K'del had no interest in dealing with the guards.
Instead, he and Cadejoth flew, streaking through the night sky with little care as to where they were going. Once upon a time, he might have gone to talk to Kash, who'd laugh at him but probably still be helpful somehow. But Kash was... it was hard to know what Kash was, now. Unhappy. Trapped. Angry. Still refusing to see her mother, barely willing to talk to K'del.
"She'll come around," Mira had said, when K'del expressed his frustration. "Take me to her when the baby is due. She'll feel differently. She'll be fine."
It was a big thing, coming from Mira, who'd never yet ridden Cadejoth or any other dragon, who always insisted she preferred her feet safely upon the ground, thank you.
K'del hoped she was right. He missed Kash: he wanted his sister back, the lovely, lively one.
In the meantime... it wasn't as though he had much time to go and see her, anyway. It'd be a few days yet, at least, before a decision was reached at Crom, but that didn't mean there wasn't work to be done. And the days were, ever quickly, slipping away: soon it would be too late to plant anything, even if they were given leave to. Soon they'd have to wait another season, and that was too long. They needed results this season.
He needed results this season. How could he justify any more expense on this with no return?
Would that A'son had never thought to bring that knife with him, he found himself thinking, hating himself for the thought. Would that these be his problems, and not mine. Would that...
Rise, Iovniath, he found himself thinking for the second time that evening. Rise, and set me free. I don't care.
But he did care.
Synopsis: K'del does his moping thing over Crom stuff, and his sister.
During the sevendays that followed that disastrous discovery at Crom, K'del found himself wishing - fleetingly, but more than once - that Iovniath would take it into her head to rise, just to rid him of the headaches he was currently facing.
Logically, though, he knew that that would probably be the worst thing that could happen: it'd be the end of his career, signing off his Weyrleadership as a dismal failure, never mind the good things he'd done. No one ever remembered those, when matters closed on such a failure.
But it would be easier. Someone else could deal with the fallout, could blame K'del for all the problems and then move on from it, untainted. The person who came in to fix things. The person that-- what? Knew better than to believe in harper signed agreements? Didn't try new things. Didn't....
Whatever it was.
Which wasn't to say that, given his time again, K'del would have done the same thing: of course not. But the idea? The original idea? That had been sound; he still believed that wholeheartedly. His only fault was trusting Lord Crom, Holder Browden, all of them.
And his own riders.
That was one of the worst things. He could forgive outsiders their potential treachery, but the possibility that there were people in the weyr who'd not only disapprove of the whole deal, but actively sabotage it, even if it meant consorting with the enemy to do so? That hurt.
What did they think? That we could just laze our way through the Interval, not bother with trying anything new to make sure the holders still appreciated us? Are they so complacent that they can't see the problems that could arise from that?
Apparently.
He'd thought about escaping to the field for a little while, to be alone with his thoughts, but there were guards posted: guards, making sure that no one touched the bones, that everything stayed exactly as it was until a decision had been made. K'del had no interest in dealing with the guards.
Instead, he and Cadejoth flew, streaking through the night sky with little care as to where they were going. Once upon a time, he might have gone to talk to Kash, who'd laugh at him but probably still be helpful somehow. But Kash was... it was hard to know what Kash was, now. Unhappy. Trapped. Angry. Still refusing to see her mother, barely willing to talk to K'del.
"She'll come around," Mira had said, when K'del expressed his frustration. "Take me to her when the baby is due. She'll feel differently. She'll be fine."
It was a big thing, coming from Mira, who'd never yet ridden Cadejoth or any other dragon, who always insisted she preferred her feet safely upon the ground, thank you.
K'del hoped she was right. He missed Kash: he wanted his sister back, the lovely, lively one.
In the meantime... it wasn't as though he had much time to go and see her, anyway. It'd be a few days yet, at least, before a decision was reached at Crom, but that didn't mean there wasn't work to be done. And the days were, ever quickly, slipping away: soon it would be too late to plant anything, even if they were given leave to. Soon they'd have to wait another season, and that was too long. They needed results this season.
He needed results this season. How could he justify any more expense on this with no return?
Would that A'son had never thought to bring that knife with him, he found himself thinking, hating himself for the thought. Would that these be his problems, and not mine. Would that...
Rise, Iovniath, he found himself thinking for the second time that evening. Rise, and set me free. I don't care.
But he did care.