Why did you place that bet? Makhmilith demanded of T’of as his rider made his way through the Weyr, away from the woman collecting bets on the upcoming dual hatching.

Because I thought it might be fun, T’of replied with as little mental inflection as he could manage. Makhmilith’s tone made it clear that the blue was displeased, and until he found out what he’d done to displease his dragon, T’of was just remaining neutral and placating. Was it too morbid, do you think?

I gathered that much, Makhmilith sneered. And based on recent hatchings I can hardly say that assuming violence is excessively morbid. But why did you place that bet in particular? You could have bet on the ratio of male and female candidates to Impress. You might have placed some faith in my Searching abilities and bet that one of ours would Impress. Instead, you placed a bet that made it seem like you - a former mindhealer - believe a clutch sired by a brown would be more violent than a typical gold-sired bunch.

T’of hesitated, moving to the side of the hallway so that the physical pause accompanying his mental hesitation would not inconvenience people who were in a hurry. He braced one shoulder against the cut stone wall and considered his response, as well as the point Makh was making. It was, he realized, entirely valid, and one he should have come up with on his own.

You’re right, T’of conceded. That was not well done of me. I didn’t even consider that aspect.

Clearly, Makh seethed.

All right. Would you like me to withdraw my bet? T’of asked, pitching the query in a reasonable tone. It wasn’t as if he was in dire need of marks or whatever the prize was if he won his bet. He hadn’t even thought to check on what that might be, so it was certainly more important to him to see that he made things right with Makh than to be right.

Do what you want, Makh muttered sullenly. He hoped T’of would do the right thing, which absolutely was to withdraw his bet, but he wanted T’of to arrive at the decision to do so because it was the right thing to do, not because he’d been told to.

All right, T’of repeated as he pushed off from the wall. I’ll see what can be done about withdrawing the bet. Shall I bet on our candidates Impressing, or would you prefer I not bet at all?

You should have bet on our candidates from the beginning, Makh informed his rider, his tone irritated.

Yes, you’re right, T’of agreed. He was not just saying this to placate Makh’s sour mood, but because now that it was out there, that seemed like the most obvious and appropriate bet he could have made. I should have done that. Next time I will. And this time, if I’m allowed to.

Makh was a little surprised to find that he was not quite satisfied with this outcome. The problem, he decided, was that T’of admitting that he had been in the wrong was not the same thing as saying that he was sorry for what he had done, and Makh absolutely wanted T’of to apologize - and mean it! Not only for the spurious aspersions he had cast on dragons sired by browns, but for missing the completely obvious bet of stating that candidates they had Searched out would Impress. The former, obviously, was the greater wrong, but in Makh’s mind, T’of’s failure to bet on their candidates was also a minor crime.

He waited for T’of to realize his error in failing to actually utter the words “I’m sorry,” but after a moment, when he realized that his human bondmate was once again moving and his mind seemed to have turned away from the subject, he snarled, both aloud and down their mental link, putting a scowl on T’of’s face that Makh could sense through their bond. The dragon counted this instance of getting a rise out of his bondmate as a win, even though there was the slim possibility that it would lead to an actual argument.

Yes? T’of asked testily. He could tell that for whatever reason his dragon was spoiling for a fight, but he could not tell why, and as much as he didn’t want to rise to the bait, he was a little frustrated.

Makh settled back on his haunches and wrapped his tail around his body, the picture of a peeved feline. He knew that if he demanded T’of apologize, he would, and he knew that their bond would allow him to tell whether the apology was sincere. That would certainly be the quickest and easiest way to put this to rights, but it didn’t seem sufficient, and the dragon wasn’t quite sure how to articulate to T’of why he wasn’t done with this subject.

Could you come out here? Makh asked. It maybe didn’t matter so much that they be in the same physical space for this discussion, considering they were bound mind and soul for life, but a part of Makh craved the reassurance of physical contact, despite - or perhaps because of - T’of’s aversion to it. T’of’s willingness to offer tactile comfort to his dragon, even though he shied away from it in just about every other scenario, meant more to the blue than he would ever admit. If they were going to fight, Makh wanted that assurance.

Perhaps T’of sensed some of what Makh was feeling, or perhaps he was simply being obliging, but he was quick to accede to the blue’s request and change direction so that he was soon standing beside Makhmilith in the bowl, looking up at his dragon’s dark hide and orange eyes. His own face was expressive enough that Makh should have no trouble seeing that he was more frustrated than actually angry. Unfortunately, his face wasn’t so expressive that he could convey that he was frustrated that this was becoming an argument, rather than frustrated with the subject itself.

“I don’t understand why this is turning into an argument,” he said softly, letting their bond do the work of ensuring Makh understood him in the event that the background noise in the bowl overwhelmed T’of’s voice.

That’s part of the problem! Makh exclaimed with more force than he’d intended. He hated the fleeting look of disappointment that crossed T’of’s face at his outburst. He was allowed to be loud in expressing his displeasure. You don’t understand and I don’t know how to make you understand.

T’of nodded. This, actually, was somewhat familiar territory, at least as far as the general outline of things. Mindhealers frequently worked with people who could not explain things to their own satisfaction, and were frustrated by the resultant confusion and misunderstandings. Unfortunately, T’of didn’t get to enjoy the removed position of a mindhealer in this instance. He had to be a partner to his dragon, and they had to work out how things could be made right.

“May I sit?” he asked, nodding toward the gap formed where Makh’s tail didn’t quite line up with his side and hind leg. It would put him at a far enough remove that Makh could still see his face, but also close enough to touch his dragon. So far he had not discerned any appreciable difference in emotional clarity or receptivity between them based on touch, but he had concluded that it couldn’t hurt.

Makh inclined his head and did his best to pull his temper back so that he wouldn’t end up simply berating T’of. He could tell that his bond would want him to talk until they worked something out, and that it was probably a good idea, but he was still so unexpectedly worked up about the whole thing that he wasn’t completely sure he could manage that kind of conversation at the moment. Conveniently, he was able to convey all of that to T’of without words, because feelings between a dragonrider pair were the simplest things to share. Thoughts and the reasons for feelings were more complicated, and those were what had Makh twisted up.

“You’re still upset about the bet,” T’of said. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

I know, Makh replied, trying to to sound surly. And I know you want to understand how and why and what you can do to avoid doing it again, but I don’t want to discuss it right now.

Unspoken were the words, I can’t discuss it right now.

T’of nodded again, making a real effort to conceal his own thoughts on the subject from Makhmilith. It was harder to do this with Makh than with any other being in the world, since Makh could actually read his mind, and even if he didn’t speak aloud, Makh still knew the shape of this thoughts. Nevertheless, it was a thing he’d been practicing since he Impressed and realized that he needed the ability to have private thoughts that were truly private, and he’d gotten pretty good at it. He would keep worrying at the situation, trying to figure it out so that Makh wouldn’t have to talk about it with him.

You’re just going to wait until I go to sleep and worry about it, aren’t you? Makh asked. The dragon was hardly unaware that his bondmate had sectioned off a part of his mind to think private thoughts, and he appreciated the attempt at courtesy, but even knowing that was going on rubbed him the wrong way.

“It’s hard not to worry when I’ve clearly upset you badly and I don’t know how to proceed. Restricting my worrying to when you’re asleep is the best I can offer,” T’of replied with a tired expression. “I’m trying, Makh.”

Makh wanted to snap at his human that he shouldn’t have to try, he should just get it, but he didn’t have to. T’of’s flinch told him the thought had shot through their bond like the crack of a whip, and the complete lack of emotional feedback told him that T’of was walling himself off. There could be any number of reasons for that. Possibly he was trying to avoid a fight, but Makh knew that T’of didn’t have any qualms about telling people off when they were being stupid, and in fact struggled not to do so. So more likely T’of was trying not to let Makh know his feelings had been hurt, either for the sake of his own pride or to avoid making Makh feel guilty. Probably it was some combination of the two, and it made Makh resentful.

I don’t need you to protect my feelings.

“And I don’t need you to police mine,” T’of responded softly but firmly. “You’ve said you don’t want to discuss this right now, and I’ve accepted that. Please accept that I don’t want to get into a fight about it.”

Makhmilith turned away from T’of and hissed in frustration. He didn’t want T’of to act like a mindhealer. It made him feel like T’of thought he was being immature, and he hated being made to feel like that. The forked tip of his tail twitched irritably, too, but the length of it remained still and T’of was in no danger of being struck by it lashing, though to all appearances the bluerider wasn’t the least concerned about the possibility.

So what now? Makh asked. This was the first time he could remember that he and T’of had come to an impasse like this.

“We have practice soon,” T’of replied casually. “I think I should go talk to the woman taking bets about changing or withdrawing mine, and then find a snack if there’s still time.”

He didn't make any suggestion to Makh about how the dragon might spend his time. He knew no such suggestion would be welcome at the moment. It would not surprise him, however, to learn that Makh planned to get in some pre-practice practice to work off some of his frustration. He hoped in the future they would be able to discuss this matter, but for the time being, T’of figured this was the best they could manage, and he would have to be okay with that, and refrain from pestering Makh.

T’of? Makh stopped his bond as he got to his feet. You didn’t even apologize.

T’of blinked once, reviewing their conversation, and recognized that Makhmilith was correct. Without hesitation he said, “I’m sorry. For not apologizing when I should have, and for the thoughtlessness of the bet I placed.”

Apology accepted.

It was a small thing, but Makh was a little mollified by this belated apology, and T’of was relieved to feel an easing of hostility between them. With luck, they would both be in a state to work together by practice, and no one would get injured.

Word count: 2,221