Welcome to Gaia! ::

What Akerth was, was beautiful. T'rus forgot that, sometimes. It was easy to forget. Akerth was, after all, quite a few other things. Hard headed, tactless, stubborn. A rock.

Yes. A rock, not a dragon. Something you could build a Weyr on top of. That was how T'rus saw Akerth. That was, in fact, why T'rus loved Akerth so fiercely, why he could never bring himself to resent the brown for being exactly that. A brown, not a bronze, as he'd been meant to be. But Akerth wasn't brown or bronze or blue or green. He was a rock. A pillar. A promise.

Usually.

But, leaning against a pole, watching Akerth circle the feeding pens, afternoon sunlight shining on his freshly oiled hide, T'rus found himself almost breathless. Watching him fly, it was easy to forget so much, to let worry and plotting fall away and feel free. Well, something like free. As close as he'd ever felt to it.

He is late. The curt interjection was enough to shake him from his revelry. Akerth was right. Shark was running late. They met once a sevenday, though T'rus tried to make it more frequent when lessons allowed. But, once a sevenday. At the same time. Now, actually. Here. But today, as never before, Shark was missing from the appropriate where and when. It was unlike him.

T'rus, still looking upward, frowned. He will be here.

Yes. He heels well.

And that was a comment that T'rus was not going to dignify with response.

It wasn't T'rus that was first aware of Shark's presence. Instead, it was Lordling, who launched himself from his owner's shoulder and began to circle calling out a high sweet greeting to Shark and Shimmer. He was a handsome sight in his own right, but if T'rus had been briefly entranced by Akerth, he didn't even spare a glance for the 'lizard, lowering his gaze and turning toward the sound of approaching feet.

Shark. Of course. He smiled at his friend, but only mildly. It did not do to reward laxness. He wouldn't have Shark thinking that he could simply ignore their meetings. Shark was useful. Would make, in time, a good wingrider, even a wingsecond. Someone he could trust at his side. And if that were to be the case, then, well, it'd be best that their roles be established now. And, well, if T'rus was to be honest with himself (and he wasn't generally in favor of such things), he looked forward to their meetings. Shark was, after all, a friend.

And, since impressing Akerth, it'd seemed there were few enough he could count on. Not that he'd ever favored close friendships, but he'd always done his best to surround himself with potential allies. People who at least thought well of him. Akerth made that difficult. He was hard on his clutchmates, and where he lost favor with his clutchmates, T'rus lost favor with their riders.

But Shark. Shark was his. It was something to count on.

Which was why it was so important that the weyrbrat be on time. Be reliable. If he couldn't count on Shark than who but Akerth could he count on?

I am enough. Akerth had not yet struck. He hunted in his own time.

We need people, love. You know this. It was an old discussion. T'rus didn't even wait for a response before turning his attention back to Shark.

"Of course. Don't worry about it, Shark." Again, that mild, careful smile, "We both have duties. I could hardly expect you to put me before the kitchen."

Lordling had come back to land at his shoulder again and T'rus stroked the firelizard lightly. "If it'd be easier for you, we could suspend these meetings. It is difficult for me to get away from lessons for you."

Well, that had worked. Sharkal's expressions were usually easy for T'rus to read and this was no exception. Success, and the knowledge that Shark was so clearly his, sent a brief thrill of joy through him, his expression twitching almost to a smile. Almost. And then success soured, a hollow sick feeling twisting in his gut at the very fact that he had so easily, and so thoroughly hurt Shark.

It hadn't used to bother him. Still wouldn't with anyone else.

But Shark--

Shark was so fragile, in his way. And so very like T'rus had once been. That's what it was. Nostalgia giving rise to guilt. Nothing more. And he wasn't going to think about it.

Akerth dove then, taking out a wherry with brutal efficiency and T'rus followed the motion, using the distraction as a chance to get his thoughts together.

"Hey," he said, not turning his gaze from the pens. "Didn't I tell you not to worry?"

He turned then, ruffling Shark's hair as he so rarely did these days. "You worry too much, Shark. You know that as long as you want me around, I've got your back. Have I ever let you down?"

He was at his most charming now, smiling that easy, confident smile and giving Shark the whole of his attention. He wanted to reassure him. Make him feel happy again.

He couldn't have even said why.

As Shark stood, unflinching under his hand, as he met T'rus's eyes and smiled, that same sharp thrill of victory surged through him a second time, and this time, it lingered, brightening his eyes, making his smile softer, more genuine. This was his. He had made Shark this way, he had taught him to trust, to as Akerth had put it, heel. Shark was his creature, his creation, and he felt he had every right to take pride in those efforts paying off. If the thrill was a bit purer than it should have been, if it burned in a slightly unexpected way, well, he was just really happy.

He had a right to be happy.

"And I never will." A slight emphasis there, deliberate. He didn't want Shark to be getting the idea that he could trust just anyone. It wasn't that he didn't want Shark's life to improve, he'd done his best to protect his friend. He just didn't want Shark to forget who his benefactor was.

"We do well," he admitted, looking back at Akerth again. "He is the best in his class, though I think sometimes, it goes unnoticed." Because of those sharding bronzes, he didn't say. "If the others would listen to him more, we'd be the best class the Weyr'd ever seen. 'Course, he could afford to learn to ask nicely."

Which, T'rus was starting to realize, Akerth would never do.

And this, this was why it was nice to keep someone loyal around. Though T'rus's expression barely changed, one could almost, almost, see a hint of the tension that also hid beneath the surface relax. Shark was right, of course. In the end, he would show them. He would show them all what he was capable of. This was his Weyr. It was always meant to be his.

And it would be.

Somehow.

We will make things better. Akerth looked up briefly as he ate, his eyes still whirling their usual calm greens and blues. He had none of T'rus's fears, none of his foolish ambitions. Only the driving need to make everything work. Which he would. There was no doubt in him.

A rock you could build a Weyr on.

"We put too much on Queens," T'rus replied, though there was, at least, no anger there. He only sounded thoughtful, though it was often a subject that brought anger to his tone. "Queens and bronzes as if vanity and ambition were the same as leadership. As if entering a mating heat and rutting like fools means someone knows how to run things."

Reaching up, he stroked Lordling's chin affectionately. Captain was over with Akerth, sharing his kill. More the brown's firelizard than T'rus's, really.

"Nevermind. What do I know?" Sarcasm, there. "Whatever wing I find myself in, it'll be better when it's mine and you're at my side. That, at least, is a use for Queens and their bronzes. What I want to see is you with a dragon of your own."

T'rus actually seemed to consider Shark's gold comment for a moment, not responding as he led the thought through the twisting corridors of his mind. "No," he said finally. "Golds are too valuable to take the risk. Maybe if their was a surplus, it might be something to attempt. But dragons--"

He glanced at a bronze that happened to be passing overhead, then looked to Akerth. "Dragons will not be fooled."

Never. No matter how deep a secret might be buried. Even if it was buried so deep even the keeper barely knew of its existence as a truth. His mood seemed to be turning, edging toward darkness, but Shark's enthusiastic offer to impress on demand brought a smile too his lips. If it were but that easy. If it were, he'd have a bronze.

He'd have a bronze, and who'd have Akerth? It was actually a troubling thought. He gave his head a quick shake, as if to dismiss it. "You will impress whichever dragon best suits you. And you will impress. Go on the sands thinking your lifemate isn't out there and he won't be. You have to be confident, Shark. Believe in things, make them happen."

Oh, Shark. His wild, reckless creature. Force queens? And when they lost one? Morgath had been tragedy enough. Shards, Morgath was just a tragedy period, false queen or no. But Shark, Shark would force a queen. To what? To him? Charming. Something constricted in T'rus's chest, a sudden, sharp breathlessness, unexpected and explained.

It was an unsettling feeling. A feeling T'rus quickly buried, as he buried so many thing. Still, something of it, a certain giddy effervescent, made it's way to his mouth and he found himself speaking almost without thought. "Whatever you impress Shark I'll--"

Use him. Akerth interjected, a hard sudden thought that chased away any remaining euphoria. T'rus's mouth snapped shut, the statement unfinished.

What?

Whatever he impresses, you will use him. That is what he is for. Right?

I-- Yes. Yes, of course. But even as he said it, he shook his head, as if denying the very words he sent.

"Sorry. Akerth had a question. We need to practice, later. But we have a little time. He'll want to be oiled, soon, though."

"On occasion, the boss does allow me to eat," T'rus replied, his tone at it's very driest. He did not ask Akerth. Akerth could deal. "Can you stand a late dinner?"

He smiled then, trying now to make up with the abruptness of the subject change, the sudden distance that Akerth had placed between them. Shark would understand soon enough. When he had a dragon of his own, he'd have to deal with it himself. He'd know what it meant to have one being that had to be placed before all others.

The thought was unsettling, actually. But, no. Shark needed a dragon. He was going to be in T'rus's wing. That had already been decided. And the dragon would not be Akerth, hard and unyielding. Shark could have a soft dragon, a dragon that bent.

Yes.

"He does well enough with 'lizards. Captain is more his than mine." He gestured to where the viscous little green was sharing the brown's kill. "And she'll help scrub him, though Lordling doesn't show much interest. Your Shimmer's better trained than any other flit in the Weyr. Shine'll catch on in time."

A pause, and then, almost carefully, "Anyone I need to deal with? I don't see any fresh bruises on you."