|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Sun May 03, 2009 4:59 pm
Daramulath had finally reached a size where he could no longer follow E'rik around the Weyr all the time. They were in constant mental contact, of course, but the enforced separation was different for both of them. For Daramulath it was boring to be deprived of his human's company. The older dragons tended to ignore him or dismiss him, and the younger, smaller dragons were still able to follow their bondmates around. E'rik felt a little guilty, but he was relieved not to have his dragon's constant physical presence. He loved Dara, but the dragon was large and tended to get in the way, and a surprising number of people were unnerved by the brown, despite his easy-going nature.
Not to mention, it was Daramulath who had earned him the extra duty hours in the kitchen. The brown had been trying to squeeze into a room that wouldn't fit his gawky bulk and managed to destroy most of the furnishings in the room as he exploded into it all at once. E'rik had nearly been squashed by the dragon, who had done an impressive job on the remaining furnishings on his way out as his tail lashed about, stuck in the doorway. When the Weyrlingmaster found out, he had said that Daramulath was restricted from the human parts of the Weyr and E'rik had twelve hours of labor to perform at some point in the next sevenday.
The woman in charge of overseeing Candidate and Weyrling chores in the kitchen had assigned him to dishes. There were always dishes to be done, and it was an excellent way to keep wayward rapscallions occupied. E'rik had been under the impression that he'd outgrown being a rapscallion, but apparently his dragon had not. And since dragons couldn't be asked to do dishes, the task fell to him. It was a boring task, but one he'd gotten good at since his misspent youth in Harper Hall, and one which allowed his mind to wander.
As was his habit, when his mind wandered, he would hum or sing under his breath. In this case he was singing a song written by a friend of his from the Hall, one she'd written for her girlfriend. It was a pretty piece composed for an alto voice, and so it suited his baritone well enough if he took it down the octave.
"Your lips speak soft sweetness
Your touch a cool caress
I am lost in your magic
My heart beats within your chest
I think of you each morning
And dream of you each night
I think of your arms being around me
And cannot express my delight
Never have I fallen
But I am quickly on my way
You hold a heart in your hands
That has never before been given away"
*This poem was actually written by Rex A. Williams
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun May 03, 2009 5:51 pm
Numenor was actually the first person to notice E'rik singing. As a firelizard, he certainly didn't understand the words of the song, but he liked the rhythmic nature of music and fluttered to the edge of the dish-washing trough so that he could croon along with E'rik's baritone voice. His pitches were nowhere near the Brownrider's, and they weren't always harmonious, but there was some interesting melodic improvisation happening.
Firyal followed her firelizard into the kitchens, a mite irritated that he had abandoned her. Not so much because she didn't like to be alone, but more because she had been doing chores in another part of the Weyr and had been rightly concerned that Numenor would go to the kitchens, where he was definitely unwelcome. She didn't want the bronze to get her into trouble. She'd been doing a fair job of keeping out of trouble recently.
When she strode into the kitchen she was walking quickly, ready to chastise her firelizard for going to the kitchen when he knew he didn't belong there, but as she came in she slowed and made an effort to walk more quietly so as not to disturb the scene, which had to be one of the most adorable things Firyal had ever seen. Her firelizard perched on the edge of a trough while a young man did the dishes and sang a love song.
Numenor noticed her appearance and chirped a greeting, but then turned his attention back to E'rik and his song. He was beginning to get the hang of singing, adding a more ear-pleasing descant than he had originally.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon May 04, 2009 7:55 am
E'rik had initially been startled by the arrival of a bronze firelizard, and more so when the firelizard began to make noises which at first clashed awkwardly with the song he was singing. He'd heard that some firelizards who were exposed to music from an early age could learn to make music, and so he thought at first that that the bronze might be Mal's Aeron, though he had not greeted E'rik with his customary attack on some part of his person, which seemed out of character for the fiesty flit. Also, he'd never known Aeron to exhibit any interest in musical efforts, though that may have changed. He hadn't seen Mal or his firelizard lately.
E'rik finished off the song he'd begun and started another, older song with simpler pitches and more predictable harmonies and intervals, experimenting to see if the firelizard had any sort of "ear" for music, or whether he just enjoyed it. He'd also decided it was definitely not Aeron who was accompanying him, because Mal would not be so far away from his firelizard for so long, and if he was nearby he would have announced himself rather than stand about like a silent spectre. E'rik had made it clear in the past how he felt about people who hovered in doorways, just watching others without having the decency to at least clear their throats ostentatiously or cough or something.
Come to think of it, it was odd how empty the kitchens were, but a glance around told him that he was pretty much alone with the exception of the mysterious flit who seemed to be making an effort to blend his remarkable voice with E'rik's. The effort wasn't entirely successful, but the resultant harmony was interesting. In places it almost seemed to buzz as the firelizard hit a note that was a quarter or an eighth tone off from the one E'rik had hit. The sound set E'rik's teeth on edge, in all honesty, but he held out the notes where the firelizard did that and eventually the firelizard would raise or lower his pitch to match E'rik, which was a relief.
As he finished the second song, which had also been a love song, E'rik looked down to realize that he'd finished with the dishes he'd been given to wash. There was no way he had been at it for an hour, but there was also nobody around to ask for further instructions. He wondered if it counted toward his twelve-hour total if he just sat in the kitchens looking willing to help out.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon May 04, 2009 8:12 am
"Please don't stop."
The words were out of her mouth before Firyal could bite them back. She hadn't meant to say anything for fear of disturbing the singer. From behind she hadn't recognized him, though she should probably have recognized his voice. Certainly she remembered it well enough now that she'd seen his face. Perhaps it was the absence of his omnipresent brown dragon that had thrown her off. Or the fact that his head had been clumsily shaved.
Nevertheless, Firyal had never intended to say anything to E'rik. When he'd been a Candidate she had paid him no mind beyond taking note of his beautiful speaking voice. When he Impressed at his first Hatching she had continued to pay him no mind other than to learn to recognize his face and match the name of his dragon to it. Brown Daramulath, an accommodating, pleasant dragonet who had followed his rider like a shadow, making it impossible to forget for a moment that E'rik would be a dragonrider when his bondmate finished growing, or who his bondmate was.
Rumors had reached her ears, of course, regarding E'rik. Most rumors eventually found their way to her, though it took much longer for her to learn things than it did people like, say, Nan and Elae. Still, she had heard definitively that he had been an apprentice Harper before being Searched, and that he suffered from nearly debilitating stage fright, which seemed to her an unsual affliction for a Harper. She'd also heard from some of the less scrupled girls of the Lower Caverns that he wasn't a bad lay, so long as there was no commitment expected, though due to the recent lice outbreak he'd been markedly less social. Well. It wasn't as though someone who looked like she did would attract his attention, so that was something she didn't have to worry about.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon May 04, 2009 11:08 am
E'rik nearly jumped out of his skin when someone spoke to him. It didn't make much sense logically, since he'd known the little bronze he'd been singing with had to belong to somebody, but for whatever reason he hadn't expected to be addressed. It took him several moments to work through the shock to figure out what had been said and then formulate a response. Even then, the first response he came up with was not one he was proud of:
"But there are no more dishes."
He made to run his hand through his hair, a habit of his when he was trying to figure out what he wanted to say, but when his fingers touched his ill-shaven, lice-bitten scalp he stopped himself. That had to be one of the stupidest-looking gestures he'd ever made. But then, when he actually looked at the girl who'd spoken to him he decided there wasn't any reason for him to be concerned. This was not someone he had to impress.
"And besides, that's the end of the song," E'rik pointed out, recovering well, he felt, from his initial, bewildered response.
"I assume the firelizard is yours?" he asked. Even though he had Impressed a brown dragon, a part of him wondered how a worker in the Lower Caverns had managed to Impress a bronze firelizard. Something seemed inherently wrong with that.
E'rik, you are being unjust. It is not your place to decide who deserves a firelizard and who does not. I don't know why you want one anyway when you have me.
E'rik smiled slightly at Daramulath's chastisement, but turned it into a friendlier expression for the benefit of the firelizard's owner. As usual, his dragon was correct.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon May 04, 2009 11:58 am
Firyal was momentarily bewildered by the reply E'rik gave her. Dishes? She hadn't been talking about the dishes. It was plain to see that there were no more dishes for him to wash, and she was scarcely in a position to issue commands anyway. Not to a dragonrider. Shells, she was one of many Candidates who had been given latrine duty, though she was one of the few who had actually earned it. This put her very low on the totem pole indeed.
Her life in the kitchens had been a misery ever since the day following the Hatching, when she had been required to apologize to every single person involved in preparing or serving the Hatching Feast. Z'nal, the Candidatemaster, hadn't required that of her. It had been the Headwoman who had given her that order. She knew she deserved it, although after several days of cleaning out privies and chamber pots she was beginning to wonder if the punishment meted out hadn't been a little excessive. Not the apology. The assigned privy duty until the next Hatching. Already it felt like her sense of smell had been deadened and any food she ate tasted like dreck. Liquids tasted like piss.
When E'rik pointed out that it was also the end of the song Firyal's eyes dropped. She knew that. She'd just meant that he shouldn't stop singing. His voice was beautiful, and there was a good chance flying would roughen the honeyed sound he was able to produce now, just as it would probably turn his complexion somewhat ruddy with windburn until his skin adjusted to the chill and the winds. Well. Maybe he'd wear a scarf or something. Not that it was any of her affair anyway.
"Yes. His name's Numenor."
Mentally she gave the command to Come, which Numenor obeyed, fluttering to her shoulder. He was chittering excitedly, only too happy to tell her in his own way that E'rik was musical and that he liked making that kind of sound too, and didn't Firyal do that sometimes? Couldn't the two humans do it together and he could join in?
"He's usually not so people-friendly. Your singing must have charmed him. You are very good. You were a Harper before coming to the Weyr, right?"
She made herself look approximately at E'rik's face as she spoke, but in reality she was speaking to a point over his left shoulder. Her outburst had embarrassed her, and then she felt even more stupid because he'd misinterpreted what she'd said. Finally, she'd managed to sound like every other girl in the Weyr who wanted to get a guy's attention with her stupid comment about Numenor not being people-friendly. It was true, but it sounded like a line designed to make the guy seem special. It wasn't the type of thing she'd say.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon May 04, 2009 1:05 pm
This encounter was probably not one he would be bragging about later, E'rik realized. He'd already played the fool too thoroughly. Honestly. How could he have thought the girl was referring to the dishes? Why would she care if he stopped doing the dishes. It wasn't as if he did them so splendidly that people came from miles around to bask in the glory that was his dish-washing skills. Obviously she'd been referring to his singing.
And how could he have answered that the song was over? It was a weak recovery, he decided, and patronising, too. He would have liked to take it back, but it was too late: he'd already said it, and clearly she'd felt patronised. Why else would her eyes have instantly sought the floor? The fault wasn't entirely his. She'd startled him. The firelizard had clearly not been meant as a herald, and he had no idea how long she'd been standing there, listening. Surely she could have used the time constructively to think of something less ambiguous to say than "Please don't stop."
You're being unfair again. Neither of you spoke well, Dara said. You should probably say something pleasant if you want to salvage this.
You think? E'rik replied sarcastically. He'd been trained in smoothing over hurt feelings and dealing with difficult situations before the brown dragon was even born. A fact the Weyrling would do well to remember. He could sense Dara's amusement at that thought and decided to ignore the half-grown dragon.
"He's very handsome," he said truthfully. "And extremely well behaved compared to my friend Mal's bronze, Aeron. However, his sense of pitch is just a little bit off." He offered a smile with the last sentence so the girl would know he was joking. She'd taken his other statements so seriously, it wasn't an unreasonable cause for concern.
When she mentioned his training as a Harper E'rik frowned slightly. He would have remembered meeting her if he had, since he made it a point to remember most of the people he met at the Weyr, and since he didn't remember her, he clearly hadn't. Thus there was no reason for her to know that he had once trained to be a Harper unless she had heard someone else gossiping about him. E'rik didn't despise all people who spread gossip, since many Harpers made it their business to know all the goings-on within their general proximity, but he was not one of them, and he didn't care to be the subject of rumor.
"I was only an apprentice," he corrected without rancor. It was evident that she was making an effort, and he felt obliged to do the same, even though what she'd said about charming the firelizard sounded suspiciously like something he might have said to flatter a girl he wanted to take to bed. She had to know he was out of her class.
Thank her, Dara prompted.
I was getting to that.
"Thank you, though. It's nice to know my skills haven't deserted me since coming to the Weyr."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon May 04, 2009 6:27 pm
Numenor wasn't the most brilliant of firelizards, but he always knew when someone was speaking of him in complimentary terms, and even when he didn't care for the person he was given to preening under such circumstances. Because E'rik had sung to him, he was far more inclined to like the Brownrider and accept his compliments graciously, though he didn't leave his perch on Firyal's shoulder. He wanted to show off how good he could be, and that meant he had to sit still and behave himself. No flying about and investigating things, no matter how interesting they were, or how well they sang.
For her part, Firyal was accustomed to hearing how handsome Numenor was, but she never tired of it. She was also inclined to agree with those who said as much to her or within her hearing. She was also inclined to feel more favorably toward such people on account of their obvious good taste. Logically she knew that all firelizards were good-looking, and that it was only her personal bias that made Numenor seem more so, but she still liked it when others at least pretended to see the same sterling qualities in her firelizard that she did. She could also be rather quick to take up arms against those who criticised him, for all that she would occasionally do as much herself. There was a difference.
"I can't take any credit for Numenor's good looks, but I'm pleased to say that his behavior is mostly my doing." She grinned and tried not to look too proud of her firelizard. The man had a dragon. He probably wasn't really impressed with her firelizard.
The names E'rik mentioned were very familiar to Firyal, though not because she'd heard them often. Simply because they were associated with a series of increasingly unpleasant memories. Mal and Aeron. They'd been at the accidental gathering of unsuccessful Candidates that had congregated coincidentally on the shore. Hearing them brought back the sick, twisting sensation she'd felt in her gut when Z'lan showed up in a righteous fury. Her grin faded with that feeling.
"You know Mal." It was meant to be a question. Now that she thought about it and reviewed the pieces of gossip that had reached her ears, E'rik and Mal had both trained at Harper Hall, and when E'rik Impressed Daramulath Mal had been standing beside him, helping him through a bout of stage fright. Other rumors had suggested that the pair were romantically involved, but E'rik's activities in the Lower Caverns had soon put paid to that bit of gossip.
"From your time at Harper Hall? You would have been apprenticed at the same time."
And now she sounded like she knew too much about him. She should not know these things without having spoken to him, and the fact that she did must seem very odd to him. He probably thought her no better than the other Weyr gossips, though nothing could be farther from the truth. For all that she delighted in learning new things, and felt all knowledge was worth having, Firyal earnestly disliked gossip and those who spread it. This conversation was not going well. Maybe she should just try to extricate herself from it and get back to her non-privy duties.
"Well, if this is what you sound like after being deserted by your skills, Harper Hall suffered a great loss when you were Searched, and Ista is lucky to have you. Why don't you sing in the evenings, with the other Harpers?"
She could have kicked herself for uttering the words as soon as she did. He didn't join them because he had stage fright, and even if that wasn't an issue, he had a growing dragon to care for, and she knew that took up most of a person's time and energy. She was so stupid and thoughtless sometimes. Numenor hummed softly in her ear and nuzzled her jaw to reassure her that he loved her anyway, but she still turned pink with embarrassment.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue May 05, 2009 6:50 am
Somehow, despite the awkwardness that seemed constantly ready to rear its head and ruin the pair's attempt at conversation, E'rik found that this girl, in unguarded moments, was interesting. He could tell that she adored her firelizard, so complimenting him had clearly been a good choice on his part. Some of the dragonriders he'd met scorned firelizards and their owners, saying that they were dragons for those who weren't good enough to Impress a real dragon, and about as useful as trundlebugs. These people would have laughed at the girl's pride in her firelizard, and probably to her face. He wondered how she would react to that. Not that he wanted to try it, but he was curious. People's reactions to criticism could tell you a lot about them.
The only problem was, when a person said something like "I can't take any credit for so-and-so's good looks" the proper response would be a denial. E'rik couldn't deny, however, that the girl and the firelizard bore no resemblance to each other, and he didn't want to tell her she was beautiful. She was too heavy for beauty, though she was striking in brief flashes, such as when she grinned. Otherwise she seemed like someone who could blend into the background of a scene and pass unnoticed. He wondered if she ever did that on purpose, or if she resented the fact that she could.
"How did you train him? I was told firelizards have very short memories, and can't express themselves verbally."
Perhaps if he gave her an opportunity to show off she would feel more at ease, since she was clearly not at ease presently, despite her grin. Which was rapidly fading away. Something to do with Mal? Really? He knew Mal could have a sharp tongue, and his firelizard was given to biting, but the girl didn't seem like someone who would take being bitten by a firelizard as the end of the world. So it had to have been something Mal said or did. But wouldn't Mal have mentioned it to him if he had ruined somebody's day as thoroughly as he would have had to in order to provoke such a reaction from somebody at just the mention of his name?
She tried to cover up her distress by inquiring further, but in the process gave away the fact that she seemed to already know the answer to her question. Was she trying to show him how much she knew about him? Becuase that would be kind of creepy, actually. More likely she was interested in the details of their relationship, rather than the broader bits everyone knew. Maybe she was an informant for Nan and Elae. He remembered that Mal had wanted him to lay a false trail if asked, and though he wasn't sure if that request was still in place, he decided he might as well carry on as if it was. Mal could sort it out later if E'rik was mistaken.
"You're right. We met at Harper Hall as apprentices. He was already there when I arrived, but the Masters said he'd arrived only a year earlier, stowed away in the underbelly of a wagon bound for Bitra. Slavery." He made an effort to be convincing. That is to say, he sounded completely casual, as if he was telling a well-known story of little consequence.
He would have continued, but thinking about her last question gave him pause. If she was one of Nan or Elae's informants, wouldn't it stand to reason that she would know of his stage fright? That was something he really couldn't hide. Not when he'd come close to throwing up at the Touching and fainting at the Hatching. So maybe she only knew what she knew through hearsay, and didn't pay much attention, at that, if she'd managed to miss something as vital as his stage fright.
"I don't sing well in front of audiences," E'rik said. It wasn't quite the truth. He sang well regardless. It wasn't the singing that was the problem. It was everything else. Though, to be fair, he hadn't tried singing for an actual audience since Impressing Daramulath. Maybe something had changed.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue May 05, 2009 2:53 pm
"Actually, firelizards aren't that hard to train. They're not as intelligent as dragons are, and you're right that they don't communicate in the same ways, but it's still not too difficult. Once you learn to make sense of the way they communicate with images and emotions you can kind of reverse the flow so that you're sending them the thoughs and feelings you want them to get. And then just repeat the process until you're sick of it. Eventually it sinks in. My roommate, Adrisa, says it's more like the firelizard trains you. Numenor was supposed to be hers..."
Firyal stopped talking abruptly as she realized that E'rik probably didn't give a damn how she had trained Numenor, and had only asked to be polite and make conversation. Also, she was fond of Adrisa, but she would rather not mention the pretty blonde to E'rik. She didn't hold out any illusions that she had any sort of chance with someone like him, but she didn't want to bring up any comparisons in his mind between her and Adrisa. She knew she would compare unfavorably in every way. Besides which, as she told herself righteously, Adrisa was in a serious relationship and could hardly use the extra suitors.
On the other hand, she'd almost rather talk about Adrisa than Mal. Not that she'd gotten the impression Mal was a bad sort, but he reminded her of things she'd rather not be reminded of. She thought of it enough when she was on her hands and knees scrubbing out privies. Still, she could see how the two of them would be friends. In the brief time she'd spent in their company she'd learned that they were charismatic, likeable young men who would probably be drawn to each other inexorably, providing they didn't take an instant dislike to each other, which was possible, but that was obviously not how things had played out.
"Slavery?" she repeated. Her tone bordered on sarcastic. "You don't really expect me to belive that. Next you're going to claim that being cramped up under the wagon also stunted his growth, I suppose? I'm not a dragonrider, but I'm not stupid, E'rik."
She also didn't care about Mal's origins. She was more incensed that he would go to the effort of lying to her than she probably should have been, but her question had been innocent enough. Perhaps even foolish. It still didn't mean he had to make up a story that was blatantly untrue. She'd just been trying to make conversation. Badly, true, but she wasn't good with new people, and she was even worse with men. Particularly good-looking ones. She had to admit, E'rik was good-looking. But out of her range. The best someone who looked like her could hope for would be a short, pudgy boy or a an awkward one with spots or something.
Her irrational irritation at E'rik for his story about Mal being destined for slavery confused her a little. Ordinarily she might have simply laughed at the outlandish nature of his tale, but her feelings were still bruised from the Hatching and her nerves were raw from what had happened afterward still and she felt like she smelled like a privy all the time and she was simply not in a mood to laugh. She couldn't even tell that E'rik wasn't laughing at her or making mock of her.
"I'm sorry I bothered you, in that case. I'll leave so you can get back to your singing and your dishes and not have to worry about having an audience." She was looking at the floor again, and although her tone of voice was dull, she really was hurt and upset. Which was why she was looking at the floor. She had forgotten that her hair was wrapped up in a cloth turban on top of her head and could not fall forward to hide her face.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue May 05, 2009 4:56 pm
For all that the question might have seemed a simple pleasantry, E'rik really was curious about how one went about training a firelizard. He aspired one day to own one, and he wanted to make sure that his firelizard was well-trained. The girl's Numenor seemed to understand even her unspoken commands. It was almost like she could talk to the bronze mentally, like Numenor was as intelligent as a dragon. He knew it wasn't possible. She'd even said as much. But it was impressive how responsive he was. And she had evidently learned to make herself understood mentally. It had taken E'rik nearly a sevenday to learn to control his communication with Dara. Why hadn't she Impressed yet?
"What do you mean, he was supposed to be hers," E'rik thought about asking, but then decided against it.
He could probably guess at the story. Numenor had been an egg and intended for the girl's roommate, Adrisa, and for whatever reason Adrisa hadn't been there when he hatched, so he Impressed to Firyal instead. From what he was coming to learn, it wasn't as uncommon a happenstance as one might think. Not at a Weyr, anyway. It did make him wonder, though, if that's how it was with dragons. If their perfect match wasn't on the sands that day, did they just Impress to the closest second?
I chose you, Dara affirmed. I stand by that decision.
Thanks, E'rik replied dryly.
That didn't answer the question though. Perhaps it was ineffable. And did it really matter? Dara had chosen him out of all the other Candidates, and even if there was someone else somewhere else who might have suited him better, he hadn't been there at the time. Personally, E'rik was just as glad that the hypothetical other person hadn't been there, since he was more than just passing fond of his brown bondmate. He also got the impression, though he did not know this girl's roommate, that Numenor had ended up with the right person.
"I don't think Numenor would agree, and we humans aren't given a great deal of choice in the matter."
He knew Impressing firelizards wasn't like Impressing dragons, but the way she had suddenly cut herself off made E'rik think she had decided she was boring him or something equally stupid. E'rik was good at extricating himself from situations he didn't want to be in most of the time. If he hadn't wanted to be standing there, talking to this girl, he wouldn't still be there. Which reminded him of something else.
"I hope you're not offended, since you seem to know who I am, more or less, but I can't recall ever meeting you before. As it stands, I know your roommate's name and your firelizard's name, but I don't know your name."
And clearly his timing was imperfect, since he seemed to have offended her. He'd been stretching the truth a lot when it came to Mal lately, but he hadn't meant any of it maliciously. Mal claimed it was a social experiment, though E'rik felt it was closer to a prank on a large scale, but neither one wanted to hurt anyone or make anyone angry. Well. Nan and Elae would probably be frustrated and initially annoyed once they found out they were being taken, but they'd get over it, he was certain. He was considerably less certain about this girl, though.
Without really thinking about it, E'rik moved to block her easiest escape route, placing himself between her and the door. If he'd stopped to think about it, that sort of behavior was exactly the sort to encourage a person to take flight. At least, it would definitely make him start considering alternative exit strategies, one of which would probably have included incapacitating the person who was trying to keep him there against his will. But that wasn't really what was going through his head, and Dara wasn't helping either.
Apologize! the dragon urged.
I'd like to point out I didn't mean to offend her, E'rik replied to his dragon a little huffily. But I was going to apologize anyway.
"Please don't go. I didn't mean to imply that you were stupid, or that I didn't want you here. I didn't mean any of it like that."
That's not an apology, Daramulath pointed out.
Shut up, E'rik thought uncharitably. I'm working on it.
"Please. Tell me your name so I can apologize properly, at least." He made his voice gentle, soothing. One of the many advantages to having a trained voice was that it made it much easier to manipulate people without having to touch them. He was someone who appreciated his personal space. Otherwise he might have tried to grab the girl's arm or wrist to prevent her from leaving.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed May 06, 2009 9:23 am
Firyal could see why people found E'rik so appealing. He was incredibly charming, and she wanted to let herself be charmed, but she knew better. She had grown up hearing that her father had been incredibly charming and intelligent and good-looking, but then he had turned out to be a completely different person once he married her mother. He tried to kill her. Firyal didn't think E'rik was secretly homicidal, but she had deep-seeded issues when it came to trusting men.
What made it worse was that she couldn't figure out why E'rik would bother charming her. It was unthinkable that he wanted to take her to bed, and she didn't know what else he could possibly want from her. He didn't know who she was. He'd made that abundantly clear. The only thing he knew about her, as he'd said, was the name of her firelizard and the name of her roommate. It was possible, of course, that he was interested in Adrisa, and hoped to get to her through befriending Firyal, but that wasn't going to help him any. Adrisa was serious about her Bluerider.
It was nice to be spoken to like that, though. Mostly what she had heard since coming to Ista was some variation on a command. She did have conversations with people, obviously, but they always seemed few and far between, and she was feeling particularly starved for human company after the Hatching, where so many things had gone wrong. As far as timing went, E'rik's manners had come at a perfect moment, except she was too suspicious and full of self-doubt to allow herself to believe he might just be naturally courteous.
Partly because she knew that wasn't the case, though most of the women of the Lower Caverns who claimed to have been in relationships with him said that he was capable of beign very courtly, but also had a sharp tongue. They cited the story of the girl he'd made cry during their first Weyrling lesson, and others besides. Mostly they giggled about how clever he could be in delivering put-downs, but what Firyal heard was that he was capable of divining what the most hurtful thing he could say was, and that he was cruel enough to say it. Her father had been like that, according to her family.
When he moved between her and the door Firyal's eyes widened. No one had ever threatened her physically, but she'd grown up near a wharf and she'd spent a lot of time in a Weyr populated mostly by young, virile men. Both places were excellent locations if a person wanted to witness fights. She had gotten to the point where she could usually pick out who the combatants would be, how they would get into it, and how it would end. Particularly at the Weyr, where everyone knew everyone else's business anyway and there were few secrets kept successfully. Not to mention all those hot tempers.
Yes. She recognized what E'rik was doing, though the dragonrider himself didn't seem to have put any conscious thought into his decision to interpose himself between her and an easy exit. She made her way in the Weyr mostly by being good at slinking away before things got unpleasant. It wasn't an admirable trait, and probably was part of the reason she had yet to Impress, but it was something she'd gotten very good at, and it made her uneasy to see someone taking steps to anticipate her actions and force her to consider other options.
It was a good thing E'rik said something, really. And it was better that he'd figured out on his own what had upset her. A point in his favor, as it were. Apparently Harper Hall trained its apprentices to be observant and thoughtful. Unless that's how E'rik naturally was, but it had been Firyal's experience that young men were rarely observant and thoughtful on their own. It was a habit people had to be taught. Firyal didn't consider herslf observant, really, but she tried to be.
It wasn't really what he said, though, that convinced her to stay and caused her to lower her defenses. It was how he said it. Specifically, the tones in which he said it. Even Numenor, perched on her shoulder, reacted to the gentling quality of his voice. She wasn't even aware that she was falling prey to the best trap E'rik could lay.
"I'm Firyal," she said softly, unconsciously trying to make her own voice sound smooth and pleasant. "And there's nothing to apologize for. I'm the one who should apologize. It's been a bad couple of days, and I was unreasonable. I'm sorry."
Apologies came so easily to her she'd learned to make them sound convincing before she was ten turns old, but this one was the truth. She was sorry she'd snapped at him. He hadn't deserved it. She didn't have anyone to take her frustrations out on, and she'd been enduring heaps of abuses from the Candidates, but that didn't mean she had to be unreasonable with E'rik. Besides which, E'rik was a bad choice: he was a dragonrider. Daramulath could eat her. Probably wouldn't, but could.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed May 06, 2009 9:19 pm
What was interesting about this girl - Firyal - was hard to place. She wasn't beautiful, and she hadn't proven herself to be particularly clever. She wasn't even easy to talk to. In fact, E'rik found that he had to think harder about what he wanted to say to her, and how, than he'd had to in months. Maybe it was the way she didn't seem to react the way she was supposed to. Well, he had been able to get her to respond favorably using his voice, but that was hardly fair, and if she figured out what he was doing she'd be on her guard against it. He wondered why she thought she had to guard herself. He certainly wasn't going to mount any attacks against her.
Dara? He hoped maybe the dragon might have noticed something he'd missed that might explain why he was still here, talking to Firyal when it wasn't clear whether he had to be in the kitchens any more. There was the possibility he could leave.
So now you want my input? The brown was teasing him, and usually it amused E'rik, but at this moment he really just wanted an answer. He sent a flicker of impatience to Daramulath that he was fairly sure hadn't made it onto his face. The last thing he needed was for Firyal to think he was irritated with her.
"Firyal," he repeated. Instinctively he said, "That's a beautiful name."
One of his old flames at the Hall had told him that a guy should always tell a girl her name is beautiful, even if it's a horrible name. Girls like to hear that, and it's a safe compliment, particularly if the girl herself isn't attractive. This was one of the flames he remained on good terms with after their break-up. Not all of them turned out so well in the end. A lot of the girls ended up hating him, and only too happy to warn others off him. Which amazingly worked in his favor. Other girls wanted to be the ones to reform him. The one he'd stay with. Right.
"I'm sorry. That must have sounded so false. I'm not really at my best today, either. Clearly. So allow me to apologize for earlier, and let's start over."
Starting over was a trick he'd learned from an older apprentice at the Hall. When you said something truly regrettable, you asked to start over, as though nothing had gone before. Then you get to say whatever would have been the right thing to say, and the girl got the idea that you had a sense of humor. The play-acting was like a game. What he didn't understand, though, was why he was bothering to go to the trouble with Firyal. It was probably her firelizard.
I hope it's not her firelizard, Dara said sharply. If you want to pretend to have a firelizard, play with that bronze biter of Mal's. That should cure you. E'rik was a little taken aback by his dragon's response. He hadn't been serious in that thought. Daramulath was reacting oddly to Firyal. Maybe that was what intrigued him about her.
"You look like you've had a bad few days. Do you want to tell me about it? I'm E'rik, by the way." He cocked one eyebrow at her and held out his hand in greeting.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu May 07, 2009 9:15 am
Firyal almost laughed when E'rik said that hers was a beautiful name. She liked her name well enough, and when she was younger she had enjoyed writing it with so many flourishes it was hardly recognizable, but beautiful wasn't how she would describe it. At least, not when it was spoken aloud. In a written form, she had to admit, it was a pretty amazing name. Considering how much of the Pernese population was still illiterate, though, not many people considered the spelling of her name when she mentioned it. It was a problem that appeared in the Weyr's records, too, the inconsistent spellings of names. Particularly draconian names, since dragons don't apparently introduce themselves and then spell their names out for their bondmates' convenience.
"Er. Thanks," she said. Her amusement with his remark on the beauty of her name was audible. And she was smirking.
She didn't know this from personal, first-hand experience, but Adrisa used to have scores of beaux, and she said that one of the first flattering things any guy is going to tell you about yourself, particularly if he doesn't know you well enough to give you a really personal compliment, is that your name is beautiful. It's a nice, safe thing to say because it's an opinion and opens up conversation. He can then ask how her parents decided on the name, or if it means anything in particular. In the case of dragonriders they can tell you their birth names if they want to give you the impression of sharing something personal that's not really personal at all.
"I wouldn't say that sounded false, per se, but I don't think it really makes much sense in context, either. I could go for starting over."
This almost reminded her of the conversation she'd had several sevendays ago with a former tanner named Jisken. They'd pretended to be undercover recruiters. It had been a fun charade while it lasted. And then it had gotten markedly less fun because she hadn't been able to resist saying something stupid and depressing. She had no plans to do that this time, but she hadn't exactly planned to do it the last time either. Maybe she was just a depressing person, and should resign herself to that dismal fate. Numenor put his teeth gently around her earlobe, reminding her not to be unhappy. She smiled and scratched his eyeridges with one hand. She put the other in E'rik's, returning his greeting.
"I'm Firyal. It's nice to meet you, E'rik. I appreciate you asking, but it doesn't really matter. Things are going to improve after the end of the sevenday, I hope. I just have to make it through until then."
She really hoped that she was telling the truth there. She was sick of the slights, barbed comments, and the outright verbal attacks from the female Candidates. Not to mention the sly pinches and tricks, like seeing to it that her meals were always cold and unpleasant unless she made them herself, or that instructions didn't reach her. Not to mention the plain old viciousness. She honestly didn't know how anyone had found out that she had been one of the people on the beach, and, in fact, the one responsible for the worst of the thefts that had occurred that evening, but they had, and now most of the girls called her a thief to her face and made a big deal of announcing whenever she came into a room - so that she couldn't sneak in and then sneak off with something of theirs. What was the most interesting thing, she found in the rare moments when she could look at it objectively, was that they were actually turning to thievery to torture her for that same offense.
That said, she wouldn't have minded if most of them were to suffer extremely unfortunate accidents, but she kept that to herself. She hardly needed people to think that she might try to orchestrate an accident for someone. Particularly not if one actually did occur. That would definitely get her thrown out of the Weyr, regardless of her protestations. So she endured it and reminded herself that their privy duty would end with the sevenday, and that they should be less peeved when it did so. Or so she sincerely hoped. In the meantime she kept busy and apart as much as she could arrange to.
"Actually, E'rik, I'd like to stay and talk with you, but I can't. I'm on duty right now. I'm supposed to be turning glows in the deeper caverns. I only ended up here because Numenor vanished suddenly and I wanted to make sure he wasn't getting into trouble in the kitchens. He's not supposed to be in the kitchens at all."
It was also true that she would have liked to stay and talk to E'rik, but she had chores to do, and she couldn't afford to be seen slacking off. She'd been more diligent about her duties since the Hatching than she had been in recent memory. The normal workers had forgiven her early on, indifferent to the news of her theft, since people were always pilfering things from the kitchens and most of what she'd taken had been returned with the seals unbroken. One of the women had even taken it upon herself to teach Firyal the difference between good wines and bad, in case she decided to appropriate more wine in the future. It was meant to be funny, but Firyal felt sick whenever she thought about wine. She just wanted this whole thing to go away.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun May 10, 2009 5:14 pm
The way Firyal wrinkled her nose and smirked at his compliment told E'rik a great deal more than she probably meant it to. The smirk was easy and would have told anyone that she was able to appreciate what had prompted him to speak it to begin with. She knew he meant nothing by saying her name was beautiful. The wrinkled nose, however, might have been more difficult for someone else to interpret. They might have thought it meant she was unimpressed with his effort, but E'rik thought it probably meant that she thought the compliment unearned, even if he had meant it, though she knew he hadn't.
It gave him some cause for concern, because if she was one of those people who insisted on perfect truth from everyone in their acquaintance and would not even accept white lies, he had made an error in giving her such an off-handed compliment. Even though he did mean it. He thought Firyal was a pleasant name to say, though it would be difficult to sing because of the "ii" going into an "r" and then right into a "yaa". It was not a name to be drawn out in song, but rather put in the middle of a lyric phrase so that it might be sung at a more normal pace that wouldn't distort it beyond recognition. Still, she was smirking, and so she probably wasn't one of those people who insisted on truth.
He would have liked to puzzle more out of her awkward thanks, which sounded like she was either unused to being compliments or unskilled at accepting them gracefully or both. She didn't seem to hold herself in a very high esteem at all, from what he'd so far observed, and protected herself from her own lack of self-confidence by forcing herself to be amused by everything. But all that was just guesswork. He could be totally off. Her remark about his compliment being nonsensical in context was something new. He'd never had someone respond like that before. If he were less secure in his knowledge that he was good at what he did, he might have been concerned that he was losing his touch.
"Firyal," he said. Then, with a wicked grin he added, "That's a beautiful name."
He sobered as she basically told him she didn't want to talk about it. There was nothing like a person saying they didn't want to talk about a thing to make a Harper focus on that one thing. Whatever it was would be important, and clearly mattered to her, but what mattered even more than that was why she wanted him to think that it didn't matter. The time limit on her problem was also intriguing. What was so significant about the end of the sevenday, except that duty rosters were changed?
It was something to consider while they played this game of acquaintance. Except that Firyal wasn't playing by the rules. The whole point was to get off to a new start. Not to run off to do other things. Perhaps it was that she had chores to do, but there was no reason for that to end their conversation. He was enjoying himself, and he was intrigued by Firyal. He didn't want her to go off to turn glows, because he felt for a certainty that they would not meet like this again.
"By all means, return to your glow-turning. I'll come with you, if you like, and help. It may be that there are some glows you're not quite tall enough to reach on your own."
That's what it is, Dara said, breaking through his human's thoughts. She intrigues you because she doesn't react the way you expect her to all the time, and she makes you chase her.
What do you mean by that? I'm not chasing her.
Aren't you?
She isn't my type, E'rik protested.
Isn't she? Dara sounded incredibly smug, and self-assured enough that it gave E'rik pause. Had his dragon picked up on something that he'd missed in the way of his feelings for Firyal. But when he phrased it that way it was laughable. He'd known her for only a few minutes. It was impossible that he'd have any feelings for her at all. Daramulath was mistaken.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
