From the Vaults
Mar. 22nd, 2006 09:06 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lls_mutantI mentioned a few entries ago that I had written Pern fic back in the day. Oh yes. LOTS of Pern fic, particularly with ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
pfrsue. We're talking hundreds of pages (which really shouldn't surprise anyone). lykophile mentioned she'd like to see some of it. I can't post a lot of it because a.) it's co-written with pfrsue and there's permission and all that, b.) there's a lot of references to things that happened in RPs or in other stories that can be hard to follow, and c.) the stuff that doesn't fall into either of the two above categories sucks. Well, not all of it. But the stuff about my favorite character does. I wrote it... gosh... 6 years ago? More than that? Anyway. I'd be happy if it never saw the light of day.
However, I did have a pair of characters who had a nice little arc going that you don't need to know all their backhistory to understand a story- I hope. So sincelykophile wanted to see it, it's behind the cut. A note, however: Pern fanfic has VERY specific rules- you are allowed to play in Anne McCaffery's world, but you are not allowed to use any of her characters or certain locations. As a result, a lot of people create AU Weyrs on the Southern continent hundreds of years in the future or during a Pass that McCaffery never wrote about, just to be safe. Lakesedge Weyr was set hundreds of years- excuse me, turns- into the future and AVIAS had never been discovered, so the more rustic life still applied. I probably technically shouldn't even be posting this, but oh well.
Title: Settling For Less
Fandom: Pern
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Pern and everything associated with it belongs to Anne McCaffery. I make no profit.
Summary: Teravine was convinced she shouldn't be jealous of B'rone. So why was she?
P21.06.02
Lakesedge Weyr
“Are you sure about this?”
D’cathe looked at the girl sitting across the table. Her eyes were shining with happiness, and her entire face was alight. “Yes, I’m sure. I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t, would I?”
Teravine reached out and took his hand in hers. “It’s going to be wonderful,” she said.
“It is,” he agreed.
***
The weyr was not as large as some, but it befitted a young wingrider and a journeyman dragonhealer. With ground access, simple furnishings, and a nearby common room that was shared with two other fairly young couples, it was downright enviable. D’cathe glanced around with satisfaction, content.
Varonth was happy, camped out on the stone couch. He liked the dragonhealer, he told D’cathe, and he was happy she was here. She rubbed sore muscles and scratched itches, and the little ones were wonderful at scrubbing ridges. Could they get a little one? D’cathe said he’d think about it, but for now just Teravine was enough.
When she came in that night he greeted her with open arms and warmth, and they hardly slept at all as they spent the first night in their new bed. And he didn’t want to see her go in the morning.
This was what weyrmating should be.
P21.07.05
Lakesedge Weyr
“Yo, bronzebrat. Where’ve you been all month?”
D’cathe felt inexplicably guilty as his best friend sat down across from him. “I’m sorry, man. I’ve kind of been busy.”
“Teravine?”
“Yeah.”
B’rone grinned, cutting into a piece of meat. “That’s great. So. How’s the weyrmated life? Sick of it yet?”
“Not a bit.” D’cathe tore a roll in two. “It’s great. So tell me. Are you ever going to settle down with N’shen?”
B’rone shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not quite ready yet, I don’t think.”
“No rush, I suppose.”
“Nah. Say, are you guys going to the Tierce Gather? T’nel’s fighting again this year.”
“I’ll talk to Tera, but yeah, I can’t see why not.”
“Cool. Dri and C’olby are going to come too, and Sanne and Liara said they’d come too.”
“You’re cruel. Introducing my ex-fiancee to my current weyrmate.”
B’rone shrugged. “Not my fault. So we’ll see you there?”
“Sounds great.”
***
It was a great Gather, everyone agreed about that.
T’nel won his fight, but it was sufficiently long and exciting enough that those rooting for him didn’t feel cheated. There was a trio of Masterharpers in from Landing, and dancing all night. And the Masterbaker himself had supervised the sweet preparation, and the results were outstanding.
For D’cathe, it was the kind of day he’d not had in turns- not really since his father had died. He was here, relaxing with his best friends and his weyrmate, a pitcher of beer and the sun and laughter warming him. His arm was draped around Teravine as he laughed with B’rone, and as she talked with Liara and Sanne.
Teravine was a woman in a million. She never batted an eyelash, despite the fact they were the only straight couple in the group. She was friendly to Sanne, but had a long, giggle-filled conversation with Liara, the contents of which D’cathe really didn’t want to know. And she didn’t even mind when he shared a dance with B’rone, despite the way people looked at her skeptically.
Yes, Teravine was a woman in a million.
P21.08.19
Lakesedge Weyr
The blue dragon screamed in pain, broadcasting his agony to an entire Weyr. The downward spiral was too swift and too heavy, and it was only the exact timing of Selainne that kept Eschanniath from crashing against the ground.
Teravine was one of the first on the scene, and she expected it to be bad. But she didn’t truly expect this.
The dragon’s side was gashed open, green and gory and pulsing. But worse was the charred flesh and mangled leg and side of the rider, and the frantic panic of a dragon blinded by the pain of two bodies.
She was pushed aside hurriedly by Master Talisan, as he and Weyrhealer Tadrias worked in a rapidly efficient team to sedate the pair. Teravine could only watch, her heart in her throat as she waited for the keen and the final vault into the air.
It never came.
***
It was nothing short of a miracle he wasn’t hurt in the Fall, D’cathe realized. Nothing short of a miracle and the single-minded devotion of Varonth. His dragon was as focused on Threadfighting as D’cathe had once been on mining, and it was that focus that saved them both. But as soon as their wing was dismissed, the bronzerider hurried to the infirmary, barely able to breathe.
Long hours of waiting, and a frustration like he’d only known once before. He’d lost three times before this… he couldn’t bear to lose again. Helplessness and frustration and anger… and the opening of a door and Tadrias’s grim face telling him the news- that B’rone had stabilized somewhat and would likely survive the night.
He asked if he could stay. The healer seemed surprised, but not adverse to the idea. He opened the door and let the bronzerider in.
B’rone looked so young and weak lying in that infirmary bed. D’cathe approached slowly, finally admitting what he couldn’t deny- B’rone had somehow invaded past the barriers he’d set up and earned his place in D’cathe’s life and in his heart. It had been so long since anyone had done that, and now that the danger was past, he could admit how scared he’d been to lose it.
The bluerider was too drugged to know he was there, but D’cathe took his hand anyway. And when he woke up in the morning, B’rone was still breathing and Eschanniath was still beside Varonth. He wasn’t going to lose again.
***
“D’cathe!” Teravine ran to the entrance as her weyrmate entered, throwing her arms around him. “Is he all right?”
“I think so.” He held her close, feeling the comfort of her slender body and the warmth of her flesh. He inhaled the scent of her hair and laid his cheek against her head, letting his body relax in her embrace. “He’s not completely past the danger zone, but Tadrias says the worst is over.”
She was crying. “I’m so glad. D’cathe, if he’d died….”
“I know.” He tightened his grip around her waist, suddenly aware of his profession and it’s dangers. “I know.”
She left an hour later, kissing him as she got out of bed. “I’ll stop by the infirmary later and bring you some food?” she suggested.
He pulled her back and kissed her soundly. “Thank you for understanding.”
She smiled at him. “I love you, D’cathe.”
“And thank you for that as well.”
P21.08.22
Lakesedge Weyr
“There now, can you sit up?”
“I think so.” It took so much effort just to move his body, especially when pain shot through every nerve when he did so. B’rone was gasping by the time Tadrias helped him lean back against the wall. “Well?”
The healer nodded once, and consulted the chart in his hands. “You have extensive damage to your left side and leg. The muscles have been scored deeply, and there has been significant damage to the tendons and ligaments.”
“What does that mean?”
“Well, the tendons are what hold your bones together, and the ligaments hold the muscle to the bone. Damage to them means-“
“I know that. What does it mean to me?”
Tadrias sighed and looked out the window and didn’t answer.
“What does that mean to me?”
“I don’t think you’re going to walk again, B’rone. I’m sorry.”
He stared straight ahead of him, mute.
***
They came in droves, the people who loved him and worried about him.
N’shen came every day, bringing reassurances. A’drias and C’olby came often, bringing little gifts to occupy him and attempt to keep boredom at bay. T’nel and Eilonwy made a few visits, and even Joie and V'sin popped their heads in.
Others from his weyrling class, from his wing. M’calo and A’denze and Ladorne, Gillifer and Sh’lant, A’ron and Linmei, and even J’add. Greenriders he knew from flights, his family from Tierce, and even his distant family from Pale Moons.
B’yard came often and sat with him, and there was an unspoken acknowledgment of the repetition of history. But B’rone wasn’t ready for advice and B’yard didn’t offer it. Their conversation seemed superficial, but B’rone suspected there would come a time when it wouldn’t.
But of all of them, none came as often or stayed as long as D’cathe.
Sometimes he came with Teravine, sometimes he came alone. But he was there constantly, whenever he didn’t have another obligation to fulfill. Supporting, consoling, listening, reassuring. Telling him he’d walk again, forcing him to believe it. Holding on to him when he cried, holding his hand when the pain became so bad he couldn’t bear it. Holding him to reality in a way that only Eschanniath could equal.
And he slowly began to heal.
P21.10.01
Lakesedge Weyr
“You’re in a hurry tonight,” Teravine observed.
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just that I got held up after Fall and I haven’t had a chance to see B’rone today.”
She bit her lip and said nothing.
“He needs help with those exercises C’olby recommended,” D’cathe told her. “C’olby thinks it can happen, Tera. He really does. Even Tadrias is beginning to believe it.”
“That’s great.” But her reply lacked the enthusiasm it might have held a few months earlier.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s just… no. It’s nothing.”
“There’s something.”
She hovered on it, and then dove. “Could someone else help him tonight? We’ve both been so busy, I’ve barely had time to see you in the past week and…”
He was instantly contrite. “Oh, Faranth, Tera. I’m sorry. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I… well, B’rone’s recovery is important.”
“So are you,” he told her.
He did stay that night, and when he stayed the next few nights with B’rone she didn’t complain. She told herself not to be jealous- there was nothing to be jealous about. But she had to admit that she was.
P21.11.09
Lakesedge Weyr
“Come on, try it one more time.”
“Doc, I’m exhausted.”
“One more time B’rone.”
“I really need a bath.”
“One more time.”
“I’ve tried more times than I can count already. It’s not going to happen.”
“One more time, damn it!”
The bluerider sighed his resignation and placed his hands on the arms of the chair.
A push, and he felt himself rise. He leaned forward, just a bit. Shafts and darts of pain, and his body screamed to sit down. But D’cathe was unyielding, and Eschanniath was encouraging him,
“One more time,” D’cathe urged. “You can do it.”
His knees unfolded, and he bit his tongue to keep from shrieking his agony. He thought the left side would collapse, but a will of steel held it firm and he kept on his feet. His hands left the arms of the chair, reluctantly at first. And then he realized that he hadn’t fallen, and he was standing on his own power.
He couldn’t speak, he could barely think. He could hear Eschanniath’s jubilation, and his heart pounded in his ears as he stood still.
D’cathe was right there, watching him. “You can do it,” he urged softly. “Come on B’rone. Try it. Just once. Try it.”
His whole being was crying in pain, but it was so close. Right there… right in his grasp. He could do it… the brown eyes facing him were telling him so.
One step. One insignificant step.
And then another.
And then he collapsed under it, unable to hold it back any longer and letting out the strangled cry of agony he’d suppressed.
Strong arms caught him and picked him up, swinging him around in elation. “You did it! B’rone, you did it! You walked! You’re going to walk again!”
This was a stranger, this man holding him. Happy and joyful and alive, strong and supportive. He clung to this stranger, exhausted beyond all restraint.
“I did it,” he whispered. And it began to hit. He was going to walk again. He was going to walk. Outside, Eschanniath’s bugle echoed through the weyrbowl, and the news spread like wildfire.
But Tadrias guarded their privacy as D’cathe helped him into the bathing pool, and then back into bed. It was only then that B’rone noticed the tears on his cheeks, and the utter relief that consumed him. The emotion gripped him firmly and he broke, finding his anchor in the arms of the bronzerider who was his best friend.
He fell asleep there, safe from the Thread that haunted his nightmares and the pain that haunted his days.
***
He didn’t come home that night, or the next. Teravine was beginning to accept what she’d realized from the beginning. It was hard to truly be intimate with D’cathe. He shut people out and he wouldn’t let them close, and he kept himself safe and unhurt.
She’d heard the stories about him. Rumor had it he hadn’t ever had sex as a Candidate, and only during flights since Varonth had matured. No lovers, few friends, and no intimates. And yet, one night, he’d chosen her, first to dance with and then to flirt with, and slowly to fool around with. And a month and a sevenday after they’d first danced at that Gather, he slept with her. She knew it for what it was and had taken it as a gift.
He said he loved her. He’d weyrmated with her. But he’d never let her in.
It was painfully obvious, every time he said B’rone’s name.
She knew she had no cause to be jealous. She knew he was faithful. But the fact remained that his emotional intimacy with B’rone was far greater than with her, and that proved she had not become a part of his heart and soul.
And she began to think.
***
He noticed she was frequently distracted. He worried about her. But his worry was a small matter, put out of his mind when he thought about the seemingly insurmountable problems B’rone faced. B’rone needed him. Teravine would have to understand.
P21.12.12
Lakesedge Weyr
B'rone was getting stronger. Day by day, sevenday by sevenday. He could walk. It was awkward and ugly and slow, and he needed a cane, but he could walk.
Eschanniath’s side had healed- the dragon was in far better shape than the rider. But the rider was improving, and one day they’d be able to fly together again.
His leg and side would never be the same, twisted and scarred by Threadscore. He was intensely ashamed of it, keeping it hidden from all eyes including his own. A badge of stupidity, and his to wear forever.
Stupidity. It was fitting that he should have a permanent memorial to it. Stupid in mind and stupid in heart.
He’d known the risks. He’d done this before. And yet, he hadn’t learned. He’d done everything he could to prevent it, but facts were facts and B’rone was practical.
And the simple, unavoidable fact was that over the past half-turn he’d fallen in love with D’cathe.
P21.13.10
Lakesedge Weyr
She left him.
Thinking on it, it was her only recourse. She could leave or she could settle. And Teravine had never been one for settling.
She knew she’d feel bitterness in time. Anger and resentment. But as she folded her clothing and packed her possessions, she only felt sadness. If she were willing to settle for his affection and his attention, she could be happy.
But she wanted more.
It was simple. D’cathe couldn’t give what she needed. She couldn’t force the issue. And so she left, and when she did, she only looked back once.
***
He told one person about Teravine leaving, and that was B’rone.
B’rone listened and understood. He gave sympathy and support, and when D’cathe found himself on the verge of tears, it was B’rone who held him close.
He stayed the night in the infirmary, near the bluerider and away from the memories the weyr held.
And in the morning, it didn’t seem so bad.
P21.13.14
Lakesedge Weyr
B'rone limped out of the infirmary, leaning heavily on the cane and the man at his side. His dragon bugled his joy, a constant sound these days. They were going home.
A new weyr, a new life. A ground weyr where it would be easy for him to get to the dining hall and Lower Caverns and infirmary. Salves and exercises worked into his daily routine. The silence of a room to himself, and no more healers checking up on him unexpectedly. It was suddenly unspeakably lonely.
“What about you?” he asked D’cathe. “Where are you staying?”
“I haven’t found a new weyr yet.”
The words were impulse. “Stay with me.”
The bronzerider weighed him silently for a long time. He met his eyes squarely, waiting for an answer.
“All right.”
***
He never asked the question of why. He never needed to. He knew it with the same certainty that he knew Varonth was his and that the sun would rise the next day.
B’rone loved him.
It should scare him. It should bother him. He couldn’t return that attraction, that desire. But when he lay down that night in the same bed, he felt at home. Safe and comfortable. A part of the world.
And he wondered just what love was really meant to be.
P22.01.03
Lakesedge Weyr
A green dragon screamed, and Varonth was off in his normal abrupt manner. D’cathe sighed, considering the chess board.
“You should hurry if you’re going to make it to the flight room.” There was no bitterness in B’rone’s voice.
“I’m not going to the flight room.”
“You’re not?”
“I’m staying here.”
B’rone broke the silence. “Are you sure?”
“It’s all I can give you, B’rone. You deserve more.”
“I’ll take what I can get.”
D’cathe closed his eyes, absorbing that for one moment. “All right then. I’m staying here.”
***
He lay in D’cathe’s arms afterwards, sated despite the intense twinges of pain down his side. It wasn’t like it should be. It was only dragon-induced lust, not a true attraction. He wondered why it didn’t matter.
He knew it would never be more than flights, and not every flight would be his. He accepted it, because there was no other way to have what he wanted. He settled for it, because it was as good as he was going to get.
D’cathe came awake and he held his breath, watching the bronzerider’s eyes. There was no element of disgust, and no sparks of desire. Only a warm and caring expression that B’rone had only seen when D’cathe looked at Varonth. He sat up and reached for the numbweed pot, and with a gentleness he applied it to the bluerider’s side and leg. He stopped only once, for a gentle, soft, close-mouthed kiss, lips brushing softly against lips in apology and acknowledgment. It was enough.
***
So this was what life brought, and this was what he would choose. No, not choose. He’d never chosen to let B’rone in, never chosen to feel this way. It had happened, somehow, and what was done was done.
Perhaps it might not have happened if B’rone was a woman. Perhaps he always would have been on guard, always had his defenses up. Like he’d had with Teravine. But B’rone wasn’t a woman, and no matter how he tried, that thought just didn’t excite him.
But he’d had sex and chemistry and excitement with Teravine, and it had never satisfied him like this. It had never been this deep affection and compassion, never this protectiveness and caring. Never like this. And so he stayed on, settling for the closest he could get.
P22.01.20
Lakesedge Weyr
They watched the sunset together, and when B’rone leaned his head against D’cathe’s shoulder, the bronzerider didn’t pull away. They watched until the colors faded and the darkness engulfed them, broken only by the pinpoints of stars.
“I love you, D’cathe.” B’rone said it simply, openly, honestly. Content to say it and expecting nothing in return. And yet, D’cathe felt no pressure, no fear, no need to hide. Only the need to give what he could, as little as it was.
“I love you too.”
pfrsue. We're talking hundreds of pages (which really shouldn't surprise anyone). lykophile mentioned she'd like to see some of it. I can't post a lot of it because a.) it's co-written with pfrsue and there's permission and all that, b.) there's a lot of references to things that happened in RPs or in other stories that can be hard to follow, and c.) the stuff that doesn't fall into either of the two above categories sucks. Well, not all of it. But the stuff about my favorite character does. I wrote it... gosh... 6 years ago? More than that? Anyway. I'd be happy if it never saw the light of day.However, I did have a pair of characters who had a nice little arc going that you don't need to know all their backhistory to understand a story- I hope. So since
lykophile wanted to see it, it's behind the cut. A note, however: Pern fanfic has VERY specific rules- you are allowed to play in Anne McCaffery's world, but you are not allowed to use any of her characters or certain locations. As a result, a lot of people create AU Weyrs on the Southern continent hundreds of years in the future or during a Pass that McCaffery never wrote about, just to be safe. Lakesedge Weyr was set hundreds of years- excuse me, turns- into the future and AVIAS had never been discovered, so the more rustic life still applied. I probably technically shouldn't even be posting this, but oh well.Title: Settling For Less
Fandom: Pern
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Pern and everything associated with it belongs to Anne McCaffery. I make no profit.
Summary: Teravine was convinced she shouldn't be jealous of B'rone. So why was she?
P21.06.02
Lakesedge Weyr
“Are you sure about this?”
D’cathe looked at the girl sitting across the table. Her eyes were shining with happiness, and her entire face was alight. “Yes, I’m sure. I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t, would I?”
Teravine reached out and took his hand in hers. “It’s going to be wonderful,” she said.
“It is,” he agreed.
***
The weyr was not as large as some, but it befitted a young wingrider and a journeyman dragonhealer. With ground access, simple furnishings, and a nearby common room that was shared with two other fairly young couples, it was downright enviable. D’cathe glanced around with satisfaction, content.
Varonth was happy, camped out on the stone couch. He liked the dragonhealer, he told D’cathe, and he was happy she was here. She rubbed sore muscles and scratched itches, and the little ones were wonderful at scrubbing ridges. Could they get a little one? D’cathe said he’d think about it, but for now just Teravine was enough.
When she came in that night he greeted her with open arms and warmth, and they hardly slept at all as they spent the first night in their new bed. And he didn’t want to see her go in the morning.
This was what weyrmating should be.
P21.07.05
Lakesedge Weyr
“Yo, bronzebrat. Where’ve you been all month?”
D’cathe felt inexplicably guilty as his best friend sat down across from him. “I’m sorry, man. I’ve kind of been busy.”
“Teravine?”
“Yeah.”
B’rone grinned, cutting into a piece of meat. “That’s great. So. How’s the weyrmated life? Sick of it yet?”
“Not a bit.” D’cathe tore a roll in two. “It’s great. So tell me. Are you ever going to settle down with N’shen?”
B’rone shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not quite ready yet, I don’t think.”
“No rush, I suppose.”
“Nah. Say, are you guys going to the Tierce Gather? T’nel’s fighting again this year.”
“I’ll talk to Tera, but yeah, I can’t see why not.”
“Cool. Dri and C’olby are going to come too, and Sanne and Liara said they’d come too.”
“You’re cruel. Introducing my ex-fiancee to my current weyrmate.”
B’rone shrugged. “Not my fault. So we’ll see you there?”
“Sounds great.”
***
It was a great Gather, everyone agreed about that.
T’nel won his fight, but it was sufficiently long and exciting enough that those rooting for him didn’t feel cheated. There was a trio of Masterharpers in from Landing, and dancing all night. And the Masterbaker himself had supervised the sweet preparation, and the results were outstanding.
For D’cathe, it was the kind of day he’d not had in turns- not really since his father had died. He was here, relaxing with his best friends and his weyrmate, a pitcher of beer and the sun and laughter warming him. His arm was draped around Teravine as he laughed with B’rone, and as she talked with Liara and Sanne.
Teravine was a woman in a million. She never batted an eyelash, despite the fact they were the only straight couple in the group. She was friendly to Sanne, but had a long, giggle-filled conversation with Liara, the contents of which D’cathe really didn’t want to know. And she didn’t even mind when he shared a dance with B’rone, despite the way people looked at her skeptically.
Yes, Teravine was a woman in a million.
P21.08.19
Lakesedge Weyr
The blue dragon screamed in pain, broadcasting his agony to an entire Weyr. The downward spiral was too swift and too heavy, and it was only the exact timing of Selainne that kept Eschanniath from crashing against the ground.
Teravine was one of the first on the scene, and she expected it to be bad. But she didn’t truly expect this.
The dragon’s side was gashed open, green and gory and pulsing. But worse was the charred flesh and mangled leg and side of the rider, and the frantic panic of a dragon blinded by the pain of two bodies.
She was pushed aside hurriedly by Master Talisan, as he and Weyrhealer Tadrias worked in a rapidly efficient team to sedate the pair. Teravine could only watch, her heart in her throat as she waited for the keen and the final vault into the air.
It never came.
***
It was nothing short of a miracle he wasn’t hurt in the Fall, D’cathe realized. Nothing short of a miracle and the single-minded devotion of Varonth. His dragon was as focused on Threadfighting as D’cathe had once been on mining, and it was that focus that saved them both. But as soon as their wing was dismissed, the bronzerider hurried to the infirmary, barely able to breathe.
Long hours of waiting, and a frustration like he’d only known once before. He’d lost three times before this… he couldn’t bear to lose again. Helplessness and frustration and anger… and the opening of a door and Tadrias’s grim face telling him the news- that B’rone had stabilized somewhat and would likely survive the night.
He asked if he could stay. The healer seemed surprised, but not adverse to the idea. He opened the door and let the bronzerider in.
B’rone looked so young and weak lying in that infirmary bed. D’cathe approached slowly, finally admitting what he couldn’t deny- B’rone had somehow invaded past the barriers he’d set up and earned his place in D’cathe’s life and in his heart. It had been so long since anyone had done that, and now that the danger was past, he could admit how scared he’d been to lose it.
The bluerider was too drugged to know he was there, but D’cathe took his hand anyway. And when he woke up in the morning, B’rone was still breathing and Eschanniath was still beside Varonth. He wasn’t going to lose again.
***
“D’cathe!” Teravine ran to the entrance as her weyrmate entered, throwing her arms around him. “Is he all right?”
“I think so.” He held her close, feeling the comfort of her slender body and the warmth of her flesh. He inhaled the scent of her hair and laid his cheek against her head, letting his body relax in her embrace. “He’s not completely past the danger zone, but Tadrias says the worst is over.”
She was crying. “I’m so glad. D’cathe, if he’d died….”
“I know.” He tightened his grip around her waist, suddenly aware of his profession and it’s dangers. “I know.”
She left an hour later, kissing him as she got out of bed. “I’ll stop by the infirmary later and bring you some food?” she suggested.
He pulled her back and kissed her soundly. “Thank you for understanding.”
She smiled at him. “I love you, D’cathe.”
“And thank you for that as well.”
P21.08.22
Lakesedge Weyr
“There now, can you sit up?”
“I think so.” It took so much effort just to move his body, especially when pain shot through every nerve when he did so. B’rone was gasping by the time Tadrias helped him lean back against the wall. “Well?”
The healer nodded once, and consulted the chart in his hands. “You have extensive damage to your left side and leg. The muscles have been scored deeply, and there has been significant damage to the tendons and ligaments.”
“What does that mean?”
“Well, the tendons are what hold your bones together, and the ligaments hold the muscle to the bone. Damage to them means-“
“I know that. What does it mean to me?”
Tadrias sighed and looked out the window and didn’t answer.
“What does that mean to me?”
“I don’t think you’re going to walk again, B’rone. I’m sorry.”
He stared straight ahead of him, mute.
***
They came in droves, the people who loved him and worried about him.
N’shen came every day, bringing reassurances. A’drias and C’olby came often, bringing little gifts to occupy him and attempt to keep boredom at bay. T’nel and Eilonwy made a few visits, and even Joie and V'sin popped their heads in.
Others from his weyrling class, from his wing. M’calo and A’denze and Ladorne, Gillifer and Sh’lant, A’ron and Linmei, and even J’add. Greenriders he knew from flights, his family from Tierce, and even his distant family from Pale Moons.
B’yard came often and sat with him, and there was an unspoken acknowledgment of the repetition of history. But B’rone wasn’t ready for advice and B’yard didn’t offer it. Their conversation seemed superficial, but B’rone suspected there would come a time when it wouldn’t.
But of all of them, none came as often or stayed as long as D’cathe.
Sometimes he came with Teravine, sometimes he came alone. But he was there constantly, whenever he didn’t have another obligation to fulfill. Supporting, consoling, listening, reassuring. Telling him he’d walk again, forcing him to believe it. Holding on to him when he cried, holding his hand when the pain became so bad he couldn’t bear it. Holding him to reality in a way that only Eschanniath could equal.
And he slowly began to heal.
P21.10.01
Lakesedge Weyr
“You’re in a hurry tonight,” Teravine observed.
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just that I got held up after Fall and I haven’t had a chance to see B’rone today.”
She bit her lip and said nothing.
“He needs help with those exercises C’olby recommended,” D’cathe told her. “C’olby thinks it can happen, Tera. He really does. Even Tadrias is beginning to believe it.”
“That’s great.” But her reply lacked the enthusiasm it might have held a few months earlier.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s just… no. It’s nothing.”
“There’s something.”
She hovered on it, and then dove. “Could someone else help him tonight? We’ve both been so busy, I’ve barely had time to see you in the past week and…”
He was instantly contrite. “Oh, Faranth, Tera. I’m sorry. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I… well, B’rone’s recovery is important.”
“So are you,” he told her.
He did stay that night, and when he stayed the next few nights with B’rone she didn’t complain. She told herself not to be jealous- there was nothing to be jealous about. But she had to admit that she was.
P21.11.09
Lakesedge Weyr
“Come on, try it one more time.”
“Doc, I’m exhausted.”
“One more time B’rone.”
“I really need a bath.”
“One more time.”
“I’ve tried more times than I can count already. It’s not going to happen.”
“One more time, damn it!”
The bluerider sighed his resignation and placed his hands on the arms of the chair.
A push, and he felt himself rise. He leaned forward, just a bit. Shafts and darts of pain, and his body screamed to sit down. But D’cathe was unyielding, and Eschanniath was encouraging him,
“One more time,” D’cathe urged. “You can do it.”
His knees unfolded, and he bit his tongue to keep from shrieking his agony. He thought the left side would collapse, but a will of steel held it firm and he kept on his feet. His hands left the arms of the chair, reluctantly at first. And then he realized that he hadn’t fallen, and he was standing on his own power.
He couldn’t speak, he could barely think. He could hear Eschanniath’s jubilation, and his heart pounded in his ears as he stood still.
D’cathe was right there, watching him. “You can do it,” he urged softly. “Come on B’rone. Try it. Just once. Try it.”
His whole being was crying in pain, but it was so close. Right there… right in his grasp. He could do it… the brown eyes facing him were telling him so.
One step. One insignificant step.
And then another.
And then he collapsed under it, unable to hold it back any longer and letting out the strangled cry of agony he’d suppressed.
Strong arms caught him and picked him up, swinging him around in elation. “You did it! B’rone, you did it! You walked! You’re going to walk again!”
This was a stranger, this man holding him. Happy and joyful and alive, strong and supportive. He clung to this stranger, exhausted beyond all restraint.
“I did it,” he whispered. And it began to hit. He was going to walk again. He was going to walk. Outside, Eschanniath’s bugle echoed through the weyrbowl, and the news spread like wildfire.
But Tadrias guarded their privacy as D’cathe helped him into the bathing pool, and then back into bed. It was only then that B’rone noticed the tears on his cheeks, and the utter relief that consumed him. The emotion gripped him firmly and he broke, finding his anchor in the arms of the bronzerider who was his best friend.
He fell asleep there, safe from the Thread that haunted his nightmares and the pain that haunted his days.
***
He didn’t come home that night, or the next. Teravine was beginning to accept what she’d realized from the beginning. It was hard to truly be intimate with D’cathe. He shut people out and he wouldn’t let them close, and he kept himself safe and unhurt.
She’d heard the stories about him. Rumor had it he hadn’t ever had sex as a Candidate, and only during flights since Varonth had matured. No lovers, few friends, and no intimates. And yet, one night, he’d chosen her, first to dance with and then to flirt with, and slowly to fool around with. And a month and a sevenday after they’d first danced at that Gather, he slept with her. She knew it for what it was and had taken it as a gift.
He said he loved her. He’d weyrmated with her. But he’d never let her in.
It was painfully obvious, every time he said B’rone’s name.
She knew she had no cause to be jealous. She knew he was faithful. But the fact remained that his emotional intimacy with B’rone was far greater than with her, and that proved she had not become a part of his heart and soul.
And she began to think.
***
He noticed she was frequently distracted. He worried about her. But his worry was a small matter, put out of his mind when he thought about the seemingly insurmountable problems B’rone faced. B’rone needed him. Teravine would have to understand.
P21.12.12
Lakesedge Weyr
B'rone was getting stronger. Day by day, sevenday by sevenday. He could walk. It was awkward and ugly and slow, and he needed a cane, but he could walk.
Eschanniath’s side had healed- the dragon was in far better shape than the rider. But the rider was improving, and one day they’d be able to fly together again.
His leg and side would never be the same, twisted and scarred by Threadscore. He was intensely ashamed of it, keeping it hidden from all eyes including his own. A badge of stupidity, and his to wear forever.
Stupidity. It was fitting that he should have a permanent memorial to it. Stupid in mind and stupid in heart.
He’d known the risks. He’d done this before. And yet, he hadn’t learned. He’d done everything he could to prevent it, but facts were facts and B’rone was practical.
And the simple, unavoidable fact was that over the past half-turn he’d fallen in love with D’cathe.
P21.13.10
Lakesedge Weyr
She left him.
Thinking on it, it was her only recourse. She could leave or she could settle. And Teravine had never been one for settling.
She knew she’d feel bitterness in time. Anger and resentment. But as she folded her clothing and packed her possessions, she only felt sadness. If she were willing to settle for his affection and his attention, she could be happy.
But she wanted more.
It was simple. D’cathe couldn’t give what she needed. She couldn’t force the issue. And so she left, and when she did, she only looked back once.
***
He told one person about Teravine leaving, and that was B’rone.
B’rone listened and understood. He gave sympathy and support, and when D’cathe found himself on the verge of tears, it was B’rone who held him close.
He stayed the night in the infirmary, near the bluerider and away from the memories the weyr held.
And in the morning, it didn’t seem so bad.
P21.13.14
Lakesedge Weyr
B'rone limped out of the infirmary, leaning heavily on the cane and the man at his side. His dragon bugled his joy, a constant sound these days. They were going home.
A new weyr, a new life. A ground weyr where it would be easy for him to get to the dining hall and Lower Caverns and infirmary. Salves and exercises worked into his daily routine. The silence of a room to himself, and no more healers checking up on him unexpectedly. It was suddenly unspeakably lonely.
“What about you?” he asked D’cathe. “Where are you staying?”
“I haven’t found a new weyr yet.”
The words were impulse. “Stay with me.”
The bronzerider weighed him silently for a long time. He met his eyes squarely, waiting for an answer.
“All right.”
***
He never asked the question of why. He never needed to. He knew it with the same certainty that he knew Varonth was his and that the sun would rise the next day.
B’rone loved him.
It should scare him. It should bother him. He couldn’t return that attraction, that desire. But when he lay down that night in the same bed, he felt at home. Safe and comfortable. A part of the world.
And he wondered just what love was really meant to be.
P22.01.03
Lakesedge Weyr
A green dragon screamed, and Varonth was off in his normal abrupt manner. D’cathe sighed, considering the chess board.
“You should hurry if you’re going to make it to the flight room.” There was no bitterness in B’rone’s voice.
“I’m not going to the flight room.”
“You’re not?”
“I’m staying here.”
B’rone broke the silence. “Are you sure?”
“It’s all I can give you, B’rone. You deserve more.”
“I’ll take what I can get.”
D’cathe closed his eyes, absorbing that for one moment. “All right then. I’m staying here.”
***
He lay in D’cathe’s arms afterwards, sated despite the intense twinges of pain down his side. It wasn’t like it should be. It was only dragon-induced lust, not a true attraction. He wondered why it didn’t matter.
He knew it would never be more than flights, and not every flight would be his. He accepted it, because there was no other way to have what he wanted. He settled for it, because it was as good as he was going to get.
D’cathe came awake and he held his breath, watching the bronzerider’s eyes. There was no element of disgust, and no sparks of desire. Only a warm and caring expression that B’rone had only seen when D’cathe looked at Varonth. He sat up and reached for the numbweed pot, and with a gentleness he applied it to the bluerider’s side and leg. He stopped only once, for a gentle, soft, close-mouthed kiss, lips brushing softly against lips in apology and acknowledgment. It was enough.
***
So this was what life brought, and this was what he would choose. No, not choose. He’d never chosen to let B’rone in, never chosen to feel this way. It had happened, somehow, and what was done was done.
Perhaps it might not have happened if B’rone was a woman. Perhaps he always would have been on guard, always had his defenses up. Like he’d had with Teravine. But B’rone wasn’t a woman, and no matter how he tried, that thought just didn’t excite him.
But he’d had sex and chemistry and excitement with Teravine, and it had never satisfied him like this. It had never been this deep affection and compassion, never this protectiveness and caring. Never like this. And so he stayed on, settling for the closest he could get.
P22.01.20
Lakesedge Weyr
They watched the sunset together, and when B’rone leaned his head against D’cathe’s shoulder, the bronzerider didn’t pull away. They watched until the colors faded and the darkness engulfed them, broken only by the pinpoints of stars.
“I love you, D’cathe.” B’rone said it simply, openly, honestly. Content to say it and expecting nothing in return. And yet, D’cathe felt no pressure, no fear, no need to hide. Only the need to give what he could, as little as it was.
“I love you too.”
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no subject
Date: 2006-03-22 03:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-22 03:29 pm (UTC)Yeah, between dragon-induced passion and the societal structure, Pern is really hard to duplicate. We've tried to take our monster-saga out of Pern, but we had to change so much of it because while the situation made complete sense on Pern, it made NO sense on Earth, in any society we could think of. Very annoying.
I miss Pern sometimes. I miss my characters. Although they don't miss me- I was mean to them!