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 Posted: Mon May 11, 2009 10:15 am
Firyal looked at E'rik with incredulity. She couldn't believe he was going to try that tactic again. When she looked at him she saw the wicked grin that accompanied his compliment. He wasn't trying to make her believe him. He was jesting with her. She couldn't help answering his grin with one of her own. He was too charming by at least half, and she couldn't believe she was letting him charm her. She knew better. But she liked the thought that he wanted her to be charmed. It was kind of flattering.
She could see that there was a lot of potential for her to get hurt by this charming Harper-Dragonrider. Already she could feel herself hoping that their acquaintance wouldn't be brief, and that a relationship would come of it. Not necessarily a romantic one. She wasn't getting her hopes that high. But friendship, the sort she had with Kaskel, maybe. Only Kaskel's was a nurturing nature, and with him she often felt that he treated her like one of the children he cared for in the creche, even though he protested this idea whenever she voiced it. She didn't think E'rik had those same instincts to protect and care for others. She didn't know what he wanted in a friendship, but it probably wasn't to be needed.
She realized with a start that her gaze had lingered too long on E'rik's face and her grin had faded as she contemplated the idea of some sort of future with E'rik in it. It was, she felt, a grevious error. She didn't want him to think there was something wrong with her or - worse - realize what she was really thinking of. That would be too embarrassing to be described with words, though she imagined she would have a clear picture of what that sort of feeling would look like personified, since Numenor was always about to act as a sort of weathervane for her moods and feelings. At present, he was fluttering around the pair of humans, waiting for some decision to be reached regarding what they would do next.
Firyal, too, wondered what would come next. She knew it had been a mistake to be in such a hurry to be away, but she had been afraid of what would happen if she stayed. One of the disadvantages of possessing an overactive imagination was that it was all to easy to imagine things that hadn't really happened and feelings that didn't really exist, and then convince oneself that they're real. She'd done it before, and it had turned out badly for her, though no one else ever found out about her folly. E'rik was supposed to let her leave so that she had a higher likelihood of preserving her dignity.
Not that her dignity should matter so much to her. As far as that went, she had earned herself a reputation for being a greedy thief with her actions the evening of the last Hatching, and so a few more marks besmirching her character shouldn't make a difference. Except that E'rik didn't seem to know of her disgrace - or perhaps he was simply being polite and pretending not to know of it - and she didn't want him to find out. It was bad enough with the whole of the Lower Caverns and the Candidates knowing. She didn't want it to spread to the dragonriders, too. It would make life at the Weyr unlivable, and she didn't want that. Just as she didn't want to humiliate herself with E'rik.
"You want to come with me?" More incredulity. Most people found the chore too time-consuming, though that was the thing she liked about it. Firyal didn't mind turning glows because it was a solitary task and she could let her imagination make up stories in which she was cast as the heroine, seeking archaic lore in the forgotten corridors of the Weyr, or perhaps escaping a subterranean prison, or any number of other situations. Also, it had lately given her an excuse to avoid people she would rather not see for long periods of time. She suspected the Headwoman felt sorry for her on many levels.
"Granted, I'm not tall, but..." She cut herself off.
Was she some kind of stupid? Adrisa would have hit her with a wet towel for being so dense. E'rik was trying to continue their conversation. There was no good reason for her to deny him. It meant nothing to him, and it shouldn't mean anything to her either. She was being silly and stupid about this whole thing.
"I'd appreciate the help. It'll get the job done faster. And maybe you could tell me about Harper Hall? I wanted to train as a Harper when I was younger, though family problems prevented it, but I'm still mad to learn anything I can about the Hall."
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Posted: Fri May 15, 2009 8:11 am
E'rik hadn't realized that Firyal had maintained eye contact for considerably longer than was necessary until she seemed to notice it with a start and tore her gaze away so suddenly that it was almost unsettling. He had no idea what was going through her head at the moment, but if he had to hazard at guess he would have said she was probably uncomfortable making eye contact and had not been aware that she was doing it unconsciously until something brought it to her attention. He wondered what that could be, though.
For him making eye contact was fairly easy. Among the many lessons Harpers picked up over the course of their education, even though it was never an official class or course of study, was how to manipulate people with words and music. In order to correctly gauge your effectiveness at such things, it was critical that a Harper learn to read the subtle, unconscious cues people's bodies gave to indicate their mood. Facial expressions weren't reliable, but sometimes a person's eyes would narrow whether they willed it or no when they were angry or offended, for instance. Not every Apprentice Harper learned to read these signs, and it wasn't necessary for advancement, but it made dealing with people significantly easier.
What bothered him more than her sudden withdrawal, since that was how he'd decided to interpret her fading grin, was that she didn't seem to believe that his offer had been made in all seriousness. A part of him acknowledged that she didn't know him, and so there was no way she could know that he did not make offers to do things he didn't plan to go through with. A Harper gets by on his wits and his words, and if your word is worthless, that makes life much harder. Which isn't to say that E'rik considered himself above lying. He just preferred not to say things he didn't mean.
"I understand there's no way you could know this, considering how brief our acquaintance has been, but I never make offers I don't mean to follow through on. So, yes. If I said I wanted to come with you, I meant it." He smiled to take some of the sting out of his words. He wasn't really offended. She knew nothing of his character, after all, except whatever gossip she may have heard.
He was able to appreciate her recovery. It wasn't polished or ingenuous, but she'd made it, and something about her gave him the feeling she wasn't in the habit of inviting others to do anything with her. Or perhaps she was, but she was used to being turned down, though that didn't quite ring true to him. She seemd like someone who would rather not take the chance at all. Not a coward, but a person who was aware that she was vulnerable and took precautions to protect herself. It struck him as a sad way to live, but it wasn't completely incomprehensible.
He didn't want to talk about Harper Hall, though. He'd spent the best years of his life there, doing what he was best-suited to do, and he still missed it sometimes. He'd never give up Dara, but he wished Threadfall wasn't imminent, and that he could ask to be Fort's resident Dragonrider so that he could continue his studies at the Hall. In any event, he had so many fond memories of the place, it was hard for him not to sound like he was unhappy in comparison with his lot at the Weyr, which was hardly the case.
You are best-suited to being a Dragonrider. That's why I chose you, Dara pointed out. I will be grown up soon, and then we can go to your Hall together.
Maybe. I can't imagine Ista'd want to spare a fine dragon like yourself from a fighting wing, though.
He was allowing himself to become distracted because he didn't want to talk about Harpering. That would not do. His attention was easily captured by the bronze firelizard hovering in the air, and his mind quickly came up with a way to use that to change the topic.
"Will he sit on my shoulder like he does yours?" he asked Firyal, nodding toward Numenor.
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Posted: Sat May 23, 2009 1:22 pm
E'rik's assertion that he didn't make offers he didn't mean to follow through on made Firyal feel briefly guilty. She made that sort of offer all the time, counting on the likelihood that the other person would refuse her and thus spare her an activity she didn't really want to do. It wasn't that she wouldn't do it if she was surprised and the person took her up on the offer, but on many occasions she made offers she secretly hoped would be refused. E'rik seemed to be a more honest, forthright person than she. Maybe that was why he'd Impressed at his first Hatching and she'd been here six years without Impressing.
The portion of her which didn't feel guilty and slightly judged by E'rik's statement wanted her to break her rule about no physical contact and hug him. What he'd said was the sort of thing she had always hoped someone would say to her. Her faith in humanity was a shaky thing, often upset by a myriad of disappointments both expected and unexpected, but when someone said they didn't make idle gestures it made her hope that maybe she was too harsh in judging her species. It didn't occur to her that such honesty in a person could also be painful to hear.
"Well, thank you. I can't help thinking that a Senior Weyrling has better things to do than turn glows, but I shouldn't have doubted your sincerity. A dragonman's word is his bond, after all." She knew a lot of Dragonridiers who had no scruples about lying if it suited them, but she had no way of knowing if their dragons berated them for it, or if the dragons even knew. Their memories were not long, after all, and often they focused on different aspects of a scenario than a human would.
As she led him to the portion of the Weyr she had been assigned to, Firyal turned around to answer his question about Numenor, who alternated between trailing behind them and darting ahead of them. Ordinarily she wouldn't recommend to anyone that they try to convince Numenor to sit on their shoulder simply because the firelizard, while very inquisitive, did not really like other humans besides Firyal, and had a tendency to n** and his at those who tried to handle him. It took most of Firyal's concentration to keep him from doing that usually.
"I don't know. Usually I wouldn't recommend testing it, but I think he might like you. At least he likes when you sing. It might spare you some of his abuses. If he can remember that far back." She smiled fondly in the direction of the bronze firelizard. He wasn't quite that dim-witted, but it was a guarantee that if she ever saw E'rik again, Numenor would not remember him.
"Numenor," she crooned softly. The firelizard tumbled mid-air and reversed himself, zipping back to his human, who held her arm up for him to land on like a raptor. He tried to be careful not to scratch her, but her forearm was bare and he couldn't balance himself without using his claws, even with his forked tail wrapped around her elbow, so he sank his talons into her flesh, cheeping apologetically. He knew it hurt because he could feel it through their empathic link, which was very odd, but also excellent incentive to avoid hurting his human.
"Behave," Firyal told him and then positioned her arm near E'rik's shoulder. When Numenor looked at her in askance she flapped her arm briefly to encourage him to remove himself. Reluctantly, the bronze slunk onto E'rik's shoulder, digging in with what might almost be construed as malicious intent. He'd been told to Behave, so he couldn't bite, but no one could scold him for keeping his balance. His eyes were a displeased orange.
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Posted: Sat May 23, 2009 1:59 pm
So Firyal just had poor self-esteem. Well, that was nothing new to E'rik. So many adolescent girls - an boys - had poor opinions of their self-worth. E'rik wasn't really one of them, and couldn't remember if he ever had been. Oh, his stage fright disgusted him and made him feel like a failure, but he was able to take it in stride, as far as that went. He had lots of other skills and facets to his personality, many of which were positive. And he had a dragon. It was difficult for him to remember that there had been a time before his Impression when he had felt he was completel without worth.
The challenge with Firyal and her low opinion of herself was that E'rik was not particularly experienced in dealing with people who had poor self-esteem unless he was exploiting it. Not to put too fine of a point on it, but there wasn't much he could exploit Firyal for. If she had been more slender he might have taken advantage of her self-consciousness and ingratiated himself with her in expectation of a future in which she would remember he had supported her when she didn't believe in herself, but that wasn't the sort of relationship he planned to have with her, so he couldn't really use any of his usual tactics.
"I probably do have other things to do, but I don't know if they're better. I hope you see the distinction?" The implied distinction being, of course, that it was her presence that made the other activities pale in comparison. She probably wouldn't interpret it that way, given her apparent belief that her company wasn't anything special, but there was still a compliment in there.
"My masters at the Hall used to say that a Harper lived by his words and his wits. I wonder if every craft has a similar sort of expression to encourage truthfulness in its practitioners."
He was distracted from his musings by Firyal's somewhat hesitant and very cautious response to his question about Numenor. He assumed she was willing to try having the bronze perch on his shoulder, but was warning him that Numenor might not go along with it. Fine. He would take that risk. He'd met his fair of both friendly and unfriendly firelizards, and he found them all charming. Even Mal's little beast. Maybe if Aeron ever rose to mate he could convince Mal to let him buy an egg from the resultant clutch.
It was interesting to watch Numenor respond to Firyal's cues. He was truly a very well-trained firelizard compared to many E'rik had seen. But, like most firelizards, he didn't seem to have much of a concept of the damage his claws did to human skin. E'rik winced sympathetically as blood welled up from the gouges in Firyal's forearm, despite the fact that she didn't seem to notice them. His wince remained after Numenor dug his claws fiercely into his shoulder though his tunic.
Why are you hurting, E'rik? Dara asked.
I forgot that firelizards have claws and invited one to perch on my shoulder.
"How do you stand to have him perch on your shoulder so much?" he asked, his eyes wide with discomfort. He had no idea that Numenor was being deliberately destructive, since he seemed to be obeying Firyal and behaving, from what E'rik could see.
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Posted: Sun May 31, 2009 5:18 pm
Firyal smiled at E'rik. She did see the distinction. Word games. She had always enjoyed those, though it was only after she left her family that she realized she was actually good at them. Among her own people she had not been considered spectacularly intelligent, and they had convinced her both of the superiority of her family's intelligence and of her own inferiority in the family hierarchy. Now that she was at the Weyr, though, she had no place in that hierarchy. She had given it up to be here.
"I do see the distinction," she said, explaining her smile in case he couldn't figure it out. She already thought she knew he would be intuitive and observant enough to understand. "I appreciate you saying so. You're quite the silver-tongued flatterer, aren't you?"
They reached the portion of the Weyr where she was assigned her task and Firyal began to turn some lower glows, the ones she could reach easily. It would be nice to have E'rik assistance with the higher-placed ones, rather than having to leap for them. Numenor wasn't particularly helpful when it came to turning glows. He would knock them off of ledges, or occasionally shove them far out of reach. Only rarely would he push them into her hands, and even then, she had to replace them turned somehow.
"There probably is an equivalent expression for each craft. I've never studied a craft, though, so I wouldn't know. The closest I got was my lessons with the Harper in my hold and the lessons I attended here as a Candidate before the first time I Stood. That hardly counts."
Firyal, however, had never had anyone impress upon her the importance of truthfulness. She was taught that she could only get by on her wits, too, and that her wits were better than any other's because she was part of her genius family, but no one had ever really implied that required her to tell the truth. She was told that sometimes the truth wasn't what people needed to hear. The Healers in her family said as much, and her mother, an Archivist, had told her how much history was suppressed by those who would rather it was not shared. Firyal, too, kept much of herself in reserve.
She barely noticed the small lines of blood that were on her arm. Blood was a regular part of Weyr life. The dragons ate live prey or butchered beasts, and someone had to butcher them. Theoretically their human bonds did that, but mostly it was kitchen workers and drudges. Also wounded people needed tending, and there were a lot more wounds around dragons, who frequently did not consider how dangerous they were to humans, even if they didn't mean to be. Not to mention all the usual hazards of daily living, including firelizards and kitchen knives.
"I sew leather inserts into the inner fabric on my shoulders. It helps protect me a bit. Also, Numenor's very careful with his claws most of the time. It's only when he's excited or angry that he draws blood with them, as he seems to have done with you." This last she added with some embarrassment. "I'm sorry."
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Posted: Sun May 31, 2009 6:08 pm
Firyal's appreciative smile almost felt like a reward. He had definitely said something right, then, but he didn't know what made it right. Yet. He would figure it out, though. For the moment he was simply glad that she had been able to recognize his bit of cleverness for what it was and what he meant by it.
She was a Candidate. He was glad he hadn't accidentally said anything that would indicate he had taken her for one of the Lower Caverns' workers. There was as much of a distinction between Candidates and women of the Lower Caverns as there was between having something else to do and having something better to do. More, he supposed, since the distinction was more obvious to most people. She didn't act much like a Candidate. But she did seem to have been here for a while. Maybe she had just gotten so used to the way the Weyr worked and had seen so many Candidates Impress or leave that she didn't really consider herself a Candidate anymore.
When he Impressed Daramulath, E'rik had no idea how lucky he was to Impress at his first Hatching. Not that there would have been a second Hatching for him. He would have returned to the Hall and become a journeyman and led a completely different life.
"I might be, a bit. It happens after you've spent as long in Harper Hall as I have. I came to the Hall when I was thirteen, you know." She might or might not have heard that through the Lower Caverns gossip. She'd already known he studied at the Hall, after all.
"That makes a great deal of sense," he said, referring to the idea of sewing leather protection into her clothing. Of course, if he ever managed to get his hands on a firelizard egg, he'd have to have someone else do the sewing, since he was fairly useless with a needle and thread, but that shouldn't be too difficult. After all, most girls learned to do that at their mothers' knees and there were any number of young men who had found such a skill useful, too. E'rik just wasn't one of them.
"Don't worry about it, Firyal. I'll survive." It stung like anything, but there was a certain element of masculine pride that would not allow him to admit to it and ask her to call the bronze firelizard off. It was a shame, really, that none of the bronzes he'd met seemed to like him. Maybe, if he ever got a firelizard, he should hope for a blue or a green. Something less volatile. Even if that meant it would be less intelligent.
He reached over her head to turn a higher glow. He was less than half a foot taller than her, but those five inches seemed to make a difference. He could reach with ease what would have been an effort for her. He was glad he could actually be helpful, and that he wasn't just tagging along uselessly. He hated feeling useless or impotent. He was glad to be spared that. He had not considered, however, that the task would go much faster with two people doing it.
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Posted: Sun May 31, 2009 7:22 pm
The task of turning glows was going much faster than Firyal had expected. Since it was one she usually performed solitarily, she had not reckoned on how much more productive a pair of people working as a team would prove. When she realized this she began, mostly unconsciously, to slow her actions so that she could prolong the time she spent with E'rik. That wasn't sly and manipulative at all. She was almost ashamed when she caught herself doing it. She really wasn't the kind of girl who did that.
"Thirteen? That's the same age I was when I came to the Weyr." It was a slight connecting thread, but it was something they had in common. After a fashion. She'd come to the Weyr because she had a cousin there who could take her in when she and her mother could no longer stand to live in the same house. Based on the singing she had heard in the kitchen, E'rik had gone to the Hall because he was extraordinarily gifted. Being gifted was infinitely better than being unwanted. Maybe that was why he had Impressed at his first Hatching and she'd been here six years without Impressing.
"Thank you," she said, ducking under his arm to reach for the next glow. She meant for helping reach the higher glows, but it could also refer to his remark that padding her shoulders was sensible. Of course it was. She hadn't been the one to think of it, though, and so she couldn't really claim credit.
"And I sincerely hope that you survive. Death by firelizard would certainly be ignonomious, and I would hate to be responsible for a brown dragon - or any dragon, really - going between forever." She thought about adding a touch of levity, saying how she'd probably spend the remainder of her life cleaning privies, but no Dragonrider had a sense of humor when it came to the death of a dragon. She didn't find it a particularly humorous situation, either.
"Just to be safe, though, I'd better call him off." She offered a quick smile and called to Numenor mentally. His relief was evident as he launched himself from E'rik's shoulder to land once more on hers, wrapping his tail firmly around her throat. There would be no more of this putting-him-on-other-humans nonsense. He would throttle Firyal first. With lots of love and affection.
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Posted: Tue Jun 16, 2009 6:44 am
E'rik rolled the shoulder Numenor had clawed, testing the extent of the damage. It was minimal, as he'd expected. Probably wouldn't even scar. Which was fine with him. When Thread started to fall, he would have ample opportunity to acquire scars to point to with pride when he was an oldster. He wasn't looking for scars at the moment.
"That's pretty young to be Searched, isn't it?" he asked.
He realized almost instantly that the question was probably insensitive. If she had been standing at Hatchings for five or six years, she was probably pretty bothered by that fact. Particularly if her self-esteem was as poor as it seemed to be. Or maybe that was a contributing factor. It did add a new depth to her, even though he didn't know enough to make any sort of informed analysis. A part of him said that he really shouldn't be trying to categorize Firyal after knowing her for so short a time, but he couldn't help trying to understand people.
"And thank you for removing him. As you said, it would be an ignonomious death. I think Dara would go between from shame." He smiled. He loved Dara more than life itself, but that didn't mean he couldn't joke. He joked about his own mortality, after all, and Dara was an extension of himself.
You could never shame me to that degree, Dara put in loyally.
Was that a challenge?
No, was Dara's hasty response. Please don't. Think of the chores you'll be made to do that will take you away from your primary reason for existence.
Pampering you?
Exactly.
"I'm sorry," E'rik said with a careless grin. "Dara was reminding me that he's a pathetically loyal creature who will love me no matter how embarrassing I am. And former Harpers can be very embarrassing, since we mostly lack shame and have self-confidence in spades."
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Posted: Sat Jun 20, 2009 6:48 pm
Firyal didn't react at first to E'rik's question. It was an innocent enough question, and there was no reason he should assume her story was any different than that of any other Candidate. And it wasn't as though she had any reason to be touchy about her past. She was fortunate in so many ways, after all. It was a fact she would do well to remember in the future, she reminded herself as she put on a smile which felt fake to her, but which she hoped was believable.
"I came to the Weyr before being Searched, actually. I was fostered with an older cousin. She left about a year later, but I chose to stay, since I'd been given permission to stand at Hatchings."
It was an edited version of her story, but all true. The best lies, she had learned, were based in truth. Not that she was lying, but her mother had always said that deliberately leaving out key pieces of information to change a person's impression of a thing was the same as lying. Lying by omission, she called it. Firyal was good at it, which probably wasn't a skill she ought to be proud of, but she was. It was a bit like her skill for making up stories, which she also took a certain amount of pride in.
"Is your dragon so prideful?" Firyal asked. She was partly teasing, but she was also curious. It always seemed that the riders she knew were transferred elsewhere, and the Candidates she chose to befriend never Impressed, so the odds were poor that she would ever learn much about dragons unless she Impressed for herself, which was looking less and less likely.
E'rik's careless grin was enough to make Firyal smile, even though his next words made her feel a trifle stupid for asking if Daramulath was prideful. She should have just waited until he finished conversing with his dragon. Even though she was not on close, personal terms with most Dragonriders, six years was sufficient for her to learn to tell when a Rider was conversing with his dragon. They all got a faraway look in their eyes, like a person remembering, but less present. Or, rather, differently present. They were still present, but they were sharing their dragons' presence, and therefore weren't entirely in their own. Or so she theorized.
"Surely he's not pathetic," she remarked, deciding to pretend that she hadn't just asked an idiotic question. "And you can't be that embarrassing. With a voice like yours, I imagine you don't stay in trouble very long."
She glanced away under the guise of grabbing another glow, but really she was hiding her irritated expression. How bad at social interaction could a person be before they ceased to be people and became wherries or herdbeasts instead? Numenor chirped encouragingly at her and rubbed her jaw with his, reminding her that he was faithful and devoted to her. She had no need of others' approval. She spared him a scratch and thought that maybe his absolute devotion was part of the reason she didn't work very hard to make new acquaintances. It was easier to be with the bronze firelizard, even if it wasn't quite as satisfying.
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Posted: Sat Jun 20, 2009 7:30 pm
Daramulath chose to speak to E'rik at exactly the wrong moment, and so Firyal's lie of omission passed unnoticed. Daramulath asked why it was that E'rik never introduced him to the interesting people he met inside the Weyr. After all, he could no longer go about inside the Weyr, and he enjoyed meeting the people E'rik met. He asked rather plaintively if E'rik couldn't convince Firyal to come outside and be introduced. For his part, E'rik wanted to know why Daramulath was so fascinated by this one Candidate.
I don't know. But I do want to meet her. Can you not think of some reason to bring her to meet me?
I'm sure I can think of several, but I want to know what it is about her that's got you so fussed. She's different, I'll grant you, but I wouldn't think she warrants this sort of obsession on your part.
I'm not obsessed, Daramulath replied sniffily. Call it curiosity. You make me indulge your curiosity, too. And then we both get in trouble. What I'm asking won't get anyone in trouble.
"I don't mean to seem to ignore you," E'rik said to Firyal. If his conversation with Dara was going to go much longer, he felt obliged to explain himself to her, even though he was sure she had guessed that he was talking to his dragon and would be understanding. Most people were.
"Daramulath is not behaving like his usual, easy-going self, and is making demands on me." He added almost immediately, having become used to people excusing him instantaneously when he mentioned his dragon's desires, "It's nothing so pressing I have to drop what I'm doing to obey. And don't worry that he'll perish if he has to wait a bit."
He reached around Firyal, turning the last of the glows and leaving them in near-total darkness. Somehow it hadn't occurred to him that would be the result of turning the final glow. Idiotic, really, how he hadn't thought that far ahead. He had no idea how to get back to a familiar part of the Weyr without being able to see, and instinctively reached out for Firyal's shoulder or elbow.
"That was thoughtless," he commented. "I hope you can get us to somewhere better lit? Otherwise I might be tempted to take advantage of you. Daramulath is a very ineffective chaperone from outside. Although your Numenor might prove highly effective. Perhaps I will refrain"
He was just teasing harmlessly, and his tone said as much. There should be no danger of Firyal taking him seriously. It did, however, provide him with a handy excuse to take her to Daramulath. The brown would be easier to live with if E'rik just went along with him. Even after he forgot the specific instance, Dara would remember that there had been something he wanted that E'rik had wilfully denied him and pester his human about it.
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Posted: Sat Jun 20, 2009 9:03 pm
Firyal tried to be patient as E'rik conversed further with his dragon. She had little choice in the matter, really. Her opinions, however, went both ways. On one hand, she knew the Riders had little choice in the matter either, on the other hand she did wish more of them were more adept at carrying on multiple conversations at a time. But E'rik's dragon was not yet fully grown, and it may have been unrealistic for her to expect his rider to master the skill of dual conversations in under a year. She'd never been given the opportunity to try it, and so she didn't know if it was difficult or not.
"It's all right. Most of the Riders do it, and it's not as though I'm particularly worthy of note. There are nearly one hundred Candidates, you know." She shrugged, only feeling a little sorry for herself. She did try not to be morose, but it didn't always work out that way. "What I mean to say is I don't mind."
"What sort of demands is Daramulath making on you, that aren't pressing? If you don't mind me asking, that is. I'm used to Riders jumping when their dragons make demands." After a fashion. She wasn't that well-acquainted with any riders, but she was used to watching them. It was part of being nearly invisible.
Numenor was actually the first to realize that E'rik would darken the tunnel by turning the glow, but the mental warning of the impending darkness that he sent Firyal was insufficient. She didn't make the connection until E'rik turned the glow and left them in the dark. When she was younger, Firyal had been afraid of the dark, and she'd had to have a glow in her room at all times, but she'd outgrown the fear in the years before she came to the Weyr, which was just as well, since she'd found herself in the dark quite a lot, both literally and figuratively. Just the same, when E'rik's hand found her upper arm she nearly jumped out of her skin.
Numenor took to wing at once and began to scold E'rik vocally for startling his human, but he left off when Firyal gave him a sharp mental command to Behave. He chirped a query and projected more images of blackness to his human, but with an inquisitive tone. Did she want to stay in the dark? He could see all right, though not wonderfully, but he knew she could not. He did not understand why she would want to remain in the dark. In response, Firyal imagined the kitchens with a hint of query. Could he take her back there?
"It's all right," Firyal assured E'rik, trying not to shy away from his hand on her arm. She was very unused to physical contact, and her every instinct demanded that she put at least a meter between herself and E'rik. But that wasn't exactly sensible, considering it was dark and he'd probably only meant it as a way to keep track of her, despite his teasing.
"I think Numenor can guide us back to the kitchen. Maybe." She still hadn't gotten any confirmation on that from Numenor, thoug he seemed willing to try it. She could probably get them back on her own, too. She knew the Weyr well enough, and she'd been in this position before, except without E'rik.
She was capable of banter, though the skill tended to elude her when she was around new people or attractive young men. Maybe being unable to see E'rik was what made the difference? Except when E'rik mentioned how poor a chaperone Daramulath might make, however, his voice dropped low and dangerous, it was harder for her to keep up the pretense of jesting with him. "But what if I want to be taken advantage of, and refuse to lead you back? You're right, of course, that Numenor would make a fine chaperone. He defends me arduously."
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Posted: Wed Jun 24, 2009 7:37 am
E'rik raised his eyebrows at Firyal's dismissal of his distraction. Surely the word "dragon" was a magic word at the Weyr which could get him out of all sorts of trouble, but with Firyal she didn't seem to take it as the dragon's due to have his rider's undivided attention, but rather as her due to be ignored. That was incredibly strange, he felt, and also a bit annoying that she continued to remark on her low worth. Didn't she know people tend base their opinions of you on your opinions of yourself? If a person wanted to be valued, they had to project an image that said they were valuable. If a person wanted to be ignored, they had to project and image to reflect that. She was devaluing herself, and probably didn't even realize it.
The figure she named for the number of Candidates was staggering. When he had come to the Weyr there had been significantly fewer, hadn't there? Would he have stood the same chance of Impressing Daramulath if there had been so many more Candidates on the Sands with him? He would have. It was probably arrogant to be so sure of it, but Dara was just right for him. He was his other half, and if there was someone else at the Weyr now who was a better match for the brown, that was too bad. It was also an odd thought, since that would mean that person was E'rik's other half, too.
You are the right human for me, Dara assured him. Now assure Firyal that she has worth.
Chagrined, but not enough to soften his next words, E'rik said to Firyal, "You're worthy of note. Do me the favor of remembering that the next time you feel like being self-deprecating."
In his mind, Dara snorted. You are capable of giving the best compliments a person can receive, and yet you chose to turn reassurance into a lecture. Perhaps they will make you the next Weyrlingmaster. And since she's asked, please tell her that I want to meet her.
E'rik huffed in annoyace with his dragon. He loved Dara, and would fight to the death for him in the unlikely event that it became necessary, but the brown behemoth could be infuriating when he latched on to a thought or idea. It would serve him better, E'rik knew, to just comply with Dara's wishes, but he resented the loss of control over his life and actions, even though the onus lay with him whether or not he would share Dara's desires with Firyal. He would, of course, do as his dragon wished.
"Dara wants to meet you. And though I would be happy to introduce the two of you, it's sort of a game we play. He wants something, I want o maintain the illusion of being able to control my own actions, so we battle it out until eventually I give in." He realized how that might sound to Firyal and added, "Unless any outside parties involved pick a side, and then we generally try to please them. Would you like to meet Dara?"
There wasn't enough light, even, for E'rik to see it glinting off of Numenor's metallic hide. To his knowledge, dragons and firelizards were incapable of seeing in the dark, and so he was curious as to how Firyal expected Numenor to guide them back to anywhere recognizable. If the firelizard had been a wher, that would be different, but Numenor was definitely a firelizard. Who only seemed to like E'rik when he was singing, and not when he was with Firyal. Possessive little bugger. Well, Numenor was welcome to her. She wasn't his type.
"I'm not sure I trust Numenor, to be honest. He did try to kill me. On the other hand, if you'd like to be taken advantage of, I might be willing to risk it." He grinned in the darkness, putting the grin into his voice, too. Sometimes he felt sorry for people who couldn't control their voices as he could. "Seriously, though, I don't trust that firelizard to get us out of here."
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Posted: Thu Jun 25, 2009 10:55 pm
Firyal flushed a deep fuschia at E'rik's chastisement. The worst part was that he was correct. She knew it was an unfortunate habit of hers to constantly belittle herself, but she couldn't help it. A part of her believed that if she said the unkind things first, no one else would say them. Not the most logical belief, but Firyal wasn't the most logical person. She made up stories to amuse herself and dreamed of other worlds. Logic was, at times, her enemy.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I'll make an effort. But I can't make any guarantees."
She knew E'rik had a dragon he might be talking to, but in the darkness she couldn't see his face and tell if his gaze was distant. She had no idea that his annoyed huff wasn't at all directed at her. It wasn't until E'rik explained Dara's demands to her and described the battle of wills between them that she got the idea he might have been reacting to something his dragon said. Even so, it was a little too late. A part of her was firmly convinced she had done something more to irritate the Brownrider. It didn't even occur to her to take offense at E'rik's presumption.
"I can understand about wanting independence," she said hesitantly. "But...how can you want to be independent from your dragon? It's the closest bond imaginable in the world."
It was a naive statement, and she knew it the moment she uttered it, but she couldn't help it. She wanted more than anything to Impress. It was incomprehensible that anyone would deliberately clash with their dragon just to maintain the illusion of independence. She would trade anything she owned, including body parts, to have that kind of relationship in her life. In an effort to speak before E'rik could reply to her embarrassing speech, she said, "I think I'm actually going to side with Daramulath. I would love to meet him. If you don't mind losing your game."
Numenor reappeared from wherever he had darted off to and whistled, interrupting the banter between her and E'rik. He could take them back to the kitchens. Or anywhere else. He perched on Firyal's shoulder and wrapped his tail around her throat. In her head he projected the idea of motion in a forward direction. That was a surprise. He'd learned a new trick, it seemed.
"I hate to prove you wrong," she said, "but Numenor can get us out of here. He says to go straight. So if you want to take advantage of me, you'd better do it quickly."
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Posted: Fri Jun 26, 2009 8:34 am
E'rik was safe to roll his eyes under the cover of darkness at Firyal's melancholic outlook. She was nineteen by his reckoning not much younger than he was, and yet she seemed to be far less emotionally mature. Perhaps having a physical manifestation of the other half of one's personality had something to do with it. Except E'rik had met several dragonriders who had the emotional maturity of toddlers. But perhaps he was being too harsh on her. He didn't know too many concrete facts about her, and for all he knew all the self-effacement he saw was a facade behind which she hid...something else. Everyone had at least one facet that they hid away from everyone else. The question was really whether E'rik cared enough to go to the trouble of uncovering what Firyal's was.
"I suppose that will have to do, won't it?" he said cheerily. Dara had been correct that he'd been too censorious in asking her to stop belittling herself.
Her next question was a difficult one to answer. He wished she hadn't asked, and that he hadn't given her the opportunity to ask. The adage that a man would hang himself, given enough rope, had certainly proven true here. Fortunately, Firyal seemed as aware of the awkwardness inherent in her question as he was, though she didn't have to live with a constant awareness of Dara wondering what it was that drove his bondmate to lock him out of parts of his mind and heart, always wanting more of E'rik until he lost who he was and became some new person who was an unidentifiable amalgamation of dragon and man.
There was also something about the raw longing in Firyal's voice that reminded him why he didn't often have much to do with Candidates. Hearing that deep desire in someone else for something he had and couldn't appreciate made him feel like he was spying on a person's innermost self, which tore him in two directions between his curiosity and his respect for others' privacy.
"Everyone sides with Daramulath. I don't know what it is about him," E'rik said in mock disgust.
I win, Dara said smugly. Make her firelizard hurry up.
I don't think I can do that. She probably can. She has that firelizard better trained than you are.
Hah, Dara snorted. I would like to see that, too. But first the girl.
"Very well. I am also proven wrong. You, lady, are proving very bad for my ego," he teased her. "And I think I will have to save the advantage taking for another time. Dara knows you took his side and wants me to find a way to hurry your firelizard. I've told him that's not within my power."
As he spoke he walked forward, matching his pace to Firyal's. He judged this by his hand on her elbow. Anyone looking at them might have thought he was guiding her, though it was truly the reverse. He could probably have found his way out of here without her help, but he hadn't anything better to do, and Dara had his heart set on meeting Firyal.
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Posted: Fri Jun 26, 2009 6:47 pm
"I'm sorry," she said, ducking her head. This apology encompassed many things. The fact that she was siding with Daramulath, even though she wasn't sorry about that. The fact that she had proven him wrong. The fact that she was bad for E'rik's ego. And anything else she had missed.
Following Numenor's mental nudges, Firyal was able to get them into a better-lit area. She couldn't believe she'd actually been foolish enough to start turning the nearer glows, working her way back into the Weyr. She knew that was a wonderful way be left in the darkness. She shrugged with the shoulder E'rik wasn't walking beside. E'rik had thrown her off. It was probably a pretty regular occurrence for him, though not so much for Firyal. She got silent around men, but generally not stupid. Actually, she did get stupid, and it was exactly the sort of thing she would have done when flustered. She sighed softly, unable to think of anything to say to E'rik now.
"Is Daramulath friendly?" she asked, feeling like an imbecile, but driven half mad by the silence in the corridor, broken only by the sound of her footfalls - E'rik walked silently - and Numenor's occasional guiding chirps. Also, if she was talking she wouldn't be cringing inwardly away from E'rik's hand.
She fell silent again and concentrated on making her footsteps as silent as E'rik's were. How had he learned to walk so quietly? Was that standard Harper training, or did he just come by the skill naturally? Firyal had always been under the impression that she was a fairly invisible person, easy to overlook and easy to ignore, because few people remembered her upon seeing her and few people noticed when she spoke. Hardly anyone remembered when she arrived or departed. She often felt like a ghost. But E'rik seemed to be able to pass as one even more than she was. She hated feeling invisible, but it was something she was good at and had learned to take pride in, even though she hated it. Like an executioner who hates to kill, but is proud that he only needs one blow to sever a head.
At last they turned a corner and the passage was suddenly illuminated once more and she found herself blinking stupidly. It wasn't that bright, but when compared to total darkness it was blinding. Her eyes actually stung. That might have been the dust though. Numenor had led them to a back room in the Records Hall. Firyal hadn't even known there was a passage there, and she'd lived in the Weyr for six years. She'd thought she had explored it pretty thoroughly, too. Clearly she had been mistaken. She did know how to get anywhere else in the Weyr from the Records Hall, though.
"Would Daramulath be in the Bowl or elsewhere?" she asked, trying to figure out the quickest route.
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