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It seemed to Iarodan that they'd been walking for at least a good hour when Iaman stopped abruptly. Really, he had no idea where they were, but he supposed it didn't really matter. They could find their way out again. What he couldn't stop worrying about was Iaman: he stood there, one hand still extended backward and wrapped around his wrist, one hand covering his face, head downcast.

"Hey, hey, there will be other hatchings, you know." He spoke softly, reaching up to touch Iaman's back, offering comfort.

Iaman whirled, burying his face in his brother's chest. "I know. I just wanted..." He sniffed, wiping at his eyes. "I'm glad they're all hatched, and Impressed, and okay, but..." He sat down, back braced against the wall. "It gets lonely sometimes, 'Rodan."

Iarodan sat down beside him and draped one arm over his shoulders. "I know it does. But you've still got me! And I don't know that people would be as upset as you think they would." He shook his head. "You're the one who decided to do this. You can stop it whenever you want to."

Shaking his head, Iaman sighed. "No, I can't. This is the only way I'll be able to live like I want to."

Iarodan sighed. His stubborn brother had his mind made up, of course. "Then you've got to relax. Everyone accepts it. Has anybody questioned you about it, the entire time you've been here? No. So make a friend, already." He chuckled, and then suppressed the sound when Iaman shot him a glare. "Look, there are tons of candidates and weyrlings here that have been perfectly friendly to you - to us. None of them have displayed any suspicion, or anything."

"But they could." Iaman looked away, down the dark hall. "What if I let someone get close, and then they find out?"

Sighing tiredly, Iarodan decided to give up - at least, for now. "Well, you can't complain, then. If you're not going to take the risk and make friends, you can't complain about being lonely. You're choosing to be lonely."

Iaman said nothing.

"Hoy! Iaman... um, Iarodan. I didn't interrupt something, did I?" A voice of indistinct gender called out, causing Iarodan to whirl about, eyes wide, and Iaman to scowl.

"Oh, um, hey, there, Quindrife." Iarodan scratched the back of his head absently, sheepish grin on his face. "No, no. My brother here is just a bit put out that he didn't get to Impress. He really wanted to."

Iaman fixed his eyes on his brother, an even, unwavering gaze that told him in no uncertain terms, say any more, and I'll kill you. "There will be other Hatchings." His voice was firm and steady - too much so. It drew the attention to the red puffiness of his eyes; the subtle tremor in his hand; the strained tendon pulsing in his neck. Iaman turned away, arms crossed defensively.

Iarodan sighed, shaking his head sagely at Quindrife. "Sorry about him. I don't think he ever really learned to relax." He chuckled and prodded Iaman in the ribs. "Come on, Iaman. You're being rude."

"What would you know about it?" - but the words were only muttered. Iaman looked back, and his eyes met Quindrife's - quite possibly he was looking someone other than his brother full in the face for the first time at the Weyr. "Hello, Quindrife."

He looked down, just a little bit longingly, at the brown in her arms, and couldn't help himself. His face softened, his voice lightened, and a strangely effeminate quality took over. "He really is lovely. He seemed sad - I'm glad somebody Impressed him."

"That's terrible." Iaman kept his eyes on the brown, just a hint of longing clouding the brown depths. "I'll bet he grows up into the most beautiful brown ever." He stayed there for a moment, looking at the newly hatched fire lizard, until Iarodan cleared his throat somewhere behind him.

Straightening, Iaman coughed once, deepening his voice again. "I mean, uh, he really doesn't look bad at all, you know? I-I like his colour." His cheeks flushed, and he looked awkward for a moment until Iarodan's hand on his shoulder pulled him back a bit.

Iarodan smiled at Quindrife, and the young flit in her arms. "It seems like the two of you are a good match, then." The grin on his face masked the rampant curiosity beneath. Because of what she is? What is she, exactly? Iarodan's mind started going a mile a minute. This person had managed to reach his brother. It may not have been obvious to anybody else, but it would be, in time, and Iarodan wanted to know how - and why - she did it.

"I am sure that you will Impress soon Iaman, but---until then---I could be your friend--- if you want. I will even let you help me with His Lovely Majesty---erm---shards I really need to think of a name for him."

As Quindrife spoke, the colour in Iaman's face deepened. What is she doing? I've been so cold to everybody. Does she actually want to be my friend? What is so different about her? Is she... like me? Iaman's eyes widened, just slightly, as that possibility occurred to him. Are there others like me here!?

A pause ensued, long and not a little bit awkward. Finally, Iaman stuck his hand out, clasping Quindrife about the wrist. He didn't meet her eyes again, but kept them cast downward. "You could call him Majesty."

Her skin is so soft...

"You'll figure it out." Iaman found himself relating to the tall tomboy, communicating with her, and it was strange and disconcerting. He hoped his face didn't resemble a redfruit too strongly. "And I'll bet when he grows up, he'll be the biggest, strongest, most beautiful brown in the Weyr."

He wanted to ask. He really, really wanted to ask just what it was that Quindrife was so ashamed of. She was tall, and beautiful, and seemed very strong, both physically and mentally. What could she possibly have to be ashamed of? Parentage? Nobody in the Weyr cared about that. She was clearly intelligent, so it couldn't be that. He was curious, insatiably curious, and yet...

He couldn't bring himself to ask. He was hiding too many things himself to pry into someone else's business. His conflict, however, must have showed on his face, for Iarodan quickly stepped forward, gregarious smile in place.

"Well, I don't mind if you want to call me Dan or Danny. Iaman calls me 'Rodan most of the time." His face was open and friendly, giving no indication that his brain was calculating as fast as his brother's, though he was thinking different things. This was an interesting person to him; and he was already suspecting what had only briefly, barely occurred to Iaman - that there might be a sexuality issue present. And daft? No, no, this Quindrife was self-effacing, but certainly not stupid. He wondered how long it would take her to cut to the quick of the twins' relationship, and Iaman's secrets.

Sufficiently recovered, Iaman stepped up again, not smiling, but without the shadow of boredom that usually took the life out of his eyes. "You can call me whatever you like." He kept his face downcast and muttered the words toward Quindrife's feet. "I... I wouldn't mind a cup of klah."

Under Quindrife's appraising stare, Iaman could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. She suspects something. I knew it. I knew I couldn't get close to anyone... His hands began to clench and his jaw tighten. "Um, you know, actually, I, uh..." he groped for something to say, something that would give him a way out of this situation that he just knew spelled disaster for him, for his secret, and for his potential life here at the Weyr.

Iarodan could see it coming. He knew the signs: the slight furrowing of Iaman's brow; the shorter, faster steps; the slow inching of his shoulders up toward his chin. He was worried, and turning in on himself. For that matter, Iarodan himself wasn't entirely at ease with the situation - Quindrife had looked at Iaman with far too much curious interest for Iarodan's peace of mind. Yet, it would most certainly be suspicious if they just ran off, so he took two steps forward and slipped easily between Quindrife and Iaman, easy smile still on his face. "Hey, that sounds great! I could use a bite to eat - I haven't had anything since early this morning, and I don't think Iaman has, either." He reached over and patted his twin lightly on the back.

A quiet sigh of relief bubbled past Iaman's lips as Iarodan took over, diverting attention away from him. He forced the tension out of his body. Everything will be okay. We'll have a drink, maybe something to eat, and then I'll just have to avoid her for the rest of my life. That should be easy enough... He struggled not to roll his eyes visibly. As long as I watch my voice and my posture for the rest of this, everything will be fine...

Iaman's cheeks flamed. It was instantaneous: Quindrife said "handsome", and he was red. Not just red, but red; his face could have put the Red Star to shame. His head dropped sharply as he tried to hide behind the short ends of his hair.

Slapping his twin on the back, Iarodan burst into gales of laughter, completely ignoring the shooting-daggers look it got him. "Why, thank you, miss. I'm sure we would both be honoured by the opportunity to escort such a lovely young lady." He bowed exaggeratedly and with a flourish, thoroughly enjoying his brother's discomfiture and Quindrife's apparently (at least mostly) innocent teasing.

Then she pointed out the tavern, muttered some sort of challenge, and was off like a dragon in Flight. It took but a second for Iarodan to launch himself after her, but Iaman followed, walking.

Iarodan reached the door just as a male voice called out to hide the cards and dice, and his grin broadened. How strange that Iaman should like this girl - she seemed more like his own type to him. He almost rubbed his hands together in glee as he stepped into the tavern.

By the time Iaman reached the entryway, his face had returned to it's usual lightly tanned shade and his breathing had returned to normal, the aloof look back in his eyes. He stepped inside, blinking rapidly a few times to adjust to the dimmer light, and looked around.

This whole thing just felt very awkward. Neither Iaman nor Iarodan really knew what to say here; it almost felt like meeting someone's parents, and they really weren't sure of the protocol.

When Quindrife grabbed his arm, Iaman stiffened again, and immediately flexed, trying to force as much strength into his arm as he could. He knew he looked masculine enough, most of the time, but underneath the skillfully worn clothing, his body was most definitely female. He moved away as soon as Quindrife loosed her grip, trying to be subtle and inoffensive about it.

Iarodan grinned and flexed along with her, displaying a bicep that was really only fractionally larger than Quindrife's, a surprise that quickly turned his expression from pride to shock. "Wow - what are you, a smith?" He chuckled. "That's some muscle you've got there, for a woman."

He sat himself down, pulling Iaman down beside him quickly when he saw Quindrife begin to pull out a chair. Breezing past the short awkward moment where Quindrife was left standing, he jumped into the conversation and answered her question. "Well, not so much. Holdcraft, I suppose." He waved his hand in the air, brushing away questions before they could be asked. "We're not - weren't - that high ranked, of course. We're not the Holder's sons. But I was being trained to run the stables - not Beastcraft proper, you understand, but the administrative stuff." He reached over and slapped his brother on the shoulder. "Iaman here was training to be the new Steward. He's handy with a stylus and some numbers, which I've never been so good at." He twirled his finger in the air with a roll of his eyes. "Too boring for me."

Iaman, who had been quiet and subdued during this exchange, turned to his brother, eyes narrowed. "It's not boring, it's important. We can't all be flailing off on runner-back all day. Somebody has to make sure there's enough food for everyone through winter." He turned and smiled, a little bit shyly, at Quindrife. "What can I say? He got the brawn - I got the brains."

Iarodan dug into his food the moment it was brought, with quite some relish. He wasn't a messy eater, but he was a vigorous one, and so focused on the food was he that he didn't see Quindrife's stiffening shoulders or flickering eyes. He waved his fork in the air, a genial smile on his face, making it clear that he meant nothing hurtful by his comment.

"Oh, I see. I bet you'd be good at smithcraft, though, with all that strength. You'd probably beat me at an arm wrestle!" A hint of something strange coloured his voice - admiration? Indeed, for he'd never met a woman as strong as himself before. Not physically, at any rate. "Baking and Harpering are good crafts, too, of course." He continued blithely on, dense as a board.

That is, until his twin elbowed him in the ribs so hard he almost spat a mouthful of food back onto his plate. He turned to berate his brother, but stopped short when he saw Iaman's hard expression and his eyes gesturing across the table. He swallowed, about to apologize, but Iaman jumped in, knowing his brother's bluntness may just make Quindrife feel worse.

"I doubt it would be an issue, though." Iaman gestured toward the lanky brown creature in her arms with a smile. "Look, you got the flit that nobody else could. That's got to count for something." He chuckled derisively at himself. "'Rodan and I don't even have a plan if we don't Impress. I wonder what we would do..."

A moment of silence passed, and then Quindrife spoke, breaking the quiet with a change of subject. She seemed more at ease, and so Iaman took his silencing foot off of his brother's rather squashed one and let the conversation continue.

Iarodan spoke up, shooting a sidewise glare at his twin as he did so. "Privileged... well, yes and no. Up until we started growing up, we were just like any other hold kid. Playing around, giving the aunts trouble." He shook his head, a grin on his face. "This one time, I took Aunt Yenri's face cream and put it in the stew." He shook his head. "Actually made Cook's food taste better!" He broke into peals of laughter.

"After that, though, it was mostly work," Iaman cut in. "Our father was the Steward. He sought to split his duties between us, so that I... so that we would both feel useful to the Hold. We were training for a few years, and then... we were Searched." He smiled, just a touch nervously, hoping that Quindrife hadn't noticed the breaks and recoveries in their story. What would she say if she knew the truth? That she sat here with two runaways, one of whom was a cross-dresser and a lesbian?

When Quindrife said it didn't matter, both twins smiled. "Oh, I hope so. I'm sure there are higher ranked... or, formerly higher ranked people than us here, anyway." Iarodan smiled, talking through a mouthful of some sort of mashed root. "Can you imagine? Flying a-dragonback."

Iaman's face remained neutral, but his eyes turned wistful. He remained silent, pondering the implications. Someone who would always be there for him. Someone he could trust implicitly. Someone who would be his other half, for always.

Didn't he already have that in his twin?