Wouldn't Miss It

Writers: Estelle
Date Posted: 2nd October 2019

Characters: L'keri, Arten, Eluri
Description: L'keri gives Arten a birthday gift.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 12, day 2 of Turn 9
Notes: Mentioned: Yanley, D'ale (not by name), Benna, E'naer
This takes place before L'keri's accident

L'keri

Arten hadn't wanted to see his father. He didn't, usually, and
especially not on his birthday, but he supposed he couldn't get out of
it. Not when his sister was with him and so clearly delighted that they
were going to see L'keri together that he couldn't bear to disappoint
her. He'd put his head around the door of the weyr, he thought, say a
quick good-morning if the brownrider was awake enough to notice them,
and then leave.

He wondered what he'd do for the rest of the day. He supposed he ought
to see the Headwoman or one of her assistants; he was weyrbred enough
that it felt wrong to mope about doing nothing. There were always chores
to help out with. Maybe he'd go to the herders, see if they wanted
anyone to feed or muck out the beasts.

Eluri's hand slipped from his and she ran ahead to tap on the door of
the Weyr. "Daddy? Daddy! Are you there?"

To Arten's surprise, the door opened almost at once. His father looked
tired, his face somewhat pale and puffy, but he was dressed neatly in a
clean shirt and appeared to be sober. The boy wondered if his Wingsecond
had chewed him out and this was one of his periodic efforts at good
behaviour.

"Hello, Eluri, sweetheart." He crouched down and scooped her up for a
hug, glancing apprehensively past her at the boy. "Arten. Happy
birthday."

Arten shrugged. "Thanks."

"Come on in." L'keri backed into the weyr and Arten followed. It was
tidier than usual, the floor swept and the cushions plumped on the
couch. "Would you like anything to drink? Or eat? I didn't prepare
anything, but I can send down to the kitchens..."

"No thanks. We just had breakfast."

"Oh - of course. I didn't expect you this early, actually." He ran a
hand through his tousled hair. "I thought you'd be straight down to the
Headwoman's office to join the Candidate class."

He shook his head. "I dunno. Maybe later."

L'keri let out a breath in a soft, surprised "huh", but he didn't
question Arten any further, and Eluri intervened at that point to tell
him all about the scarf she'd knitted for her brother. While she
chatted, the boy leaned awkwardly against the back of the couch,
wondering how long he'd have to stay.

"Eluri has harper classes," he pointed out when there was a pause in the
conversation. "We can't stay long."

"All right." The brownrider kissed the top of his daughter's head and
gently set her down. "There's something I wanted you to see. I know we
haven't been close lately," he went on, cautiously. "But I do want to do
better. I've stayed out of trouble with my wing leadership." Perhaps the
less said about his diet, or his drinking, or the state of his
relationship with Benna, the better. "So..."

"So?"

L'keri looked at him as if he'd been about to say something different,
then changed his mind. "I have a gift for you. It's in there."

Arten watched as his father gestured towards the bedroom. He couldn't
imagine what could possibly interest him in there. Empty wine bottles?
Dirty plates? Still, the sooner he got it over with, the sooner he could
go and try to figure out what he was going to do with his day. Sevenday.
Life...

The bedroom was warm, heated by a fire burning in the hearth. The
bedsheets were creased and there was a crumpled heap of clothes in the
corner, but no bottles - and no-one else in the bed, much to Arten's
relief. By the hearth, a cloth was draped over an object a little more
than a handspan in height.

"It's there." L'keri had followed him in, and gestured towards the
covered object.

Arten froze. He suddenly knew exactly what it was. When he been younger,
he had wanted one more than anything short of a dragon of his own. He'd
searched the beaches of River Bluff and then, when he could, at the
other Weyrs his father had been posted to, with no success. He'd
imagined the patterns on the shell, the cracks, the little creature
emerging with damp wings and shining eyes. Knowing, finally, what it was
to Impress.

L'keri waited, puzzlement growing in his face. Maybe the boy couldn't
believe it was for him. "Go on. It's yours."

He crouched down by the hearth and, steadying the pot to make sure it
wouldn't fall, drew the cloth away. With the utmost gentleness, he
brushed away the top layer of hot sand, revealing the delicate curve of
shell, speckled with warm browns and yellows.

"It should hatch in a little over a sevenday," his father went on, an
apprehensive edge in his voice. "Rhalith will know. He'll tell me, and
I'll come and find you."

"Oh! A firelizard egg!" Eluri slipped through the door, past his legs,
and hurried over to Arten. Keeping a respectful distance, she looked
down on the pale creamy shell and let out a long, delighted breath.
"It's beautiful. What colour do you think it is?"

"E'naer said it might hatch a brown, but no-one knows, really. It could
be any colour, except gold."

The boy turned his head. "You got it from the Weyrlingmaster Third?"

"Yes. He has a gold, and she clutched a few sevendays ago." L'keri
smiled. "I expect you'll get to know him better over the next few months."

Carefully, Arten heaped the sand back over the shell, covering it.
Though it was uncomfortably warm, as close as he was to the fire, he
knew the egg would need the heat. "Why?"

"Well, what with him being one of the Weyrlingmasters. They teach some
of the classes to the Candidates."

"Oh. Right. I don't know if I'm going to..." He frowned, but spoke with
less hostility that he'd imagined, before the gift of the egg. "I need
to think about it."

L'keri flinched. Ever since he'd learned how to speak, Arten had wanted
to be a dragonrider. He remembered his son running around his weyr, arms
spread wide like wings, chasing down imagined clumps of Thread, or
curled up to sleep between Rhalith's forelimbs. What had happened to
that child? He couldn't help but feel that he was responsible for the
change.

Wisely, he decided not to object. "See how you do with this little one.
You'll get an idea of Impression, and what it's like to care for him.
And he'll be a friend to you - or she..." His voice trailed off. "I know
it's not been easy."

"No." Arten pushed himself to stand, and turned to face his father. Was
this an apology? He wasn't sure. "Um. Thank you for the egg."

"Can I come and watch, when it hatches?" Eluri asked hopefully, bouncing
from one foot to the other.

"I don't know. If you're in class, we'll need to ask the teacher,"
L'keri said. He was in enough trouble with the healers, he didn't want
to add the harper craft to the list.

"Speaking of which." Arten cleared his throat. "Eluri really does need
to get to her class. And I have chores."

"All right. I don't want to make you late." He crouched down as Eluri
ran to give him a goodbye hug. "You can come and see the egg any time
you want. The shell will harden over the next few days. We'll be able to
judge when it will hatch better then.

"Right. Thanks." Arten scuffed one shoe against the stone floor. "I'll
ask the harper if Eluri can come see it hatch. I'd like her to be
there." He held out a hand to his sister and they walked to the door,
but then he turned his head to look back. "Will you be there, too?"

L'keri's smile lit his face. "Wouldn't miss it, son. If I'm not fighting
Fall, I'll be there." And even if he was, he thought, he'd time it and
deal with the consequences later. It wasn't as though he had much of a
reputation to lose.

"Good." Arten glanced at him, and for a brief moment, he returned that
smile. "Thank you."

"Happy birthday, son." L'keri watched as his children left the weyr, and
then walked over to Rhalith's couch and rested his head against the
brown's warm hide, sharing his moment of relief and hope with his
lifemate. For once in his life, he felt, he'd done something right, and
it felt good.

Last updated on the November 1st 2019

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Wouldn't Miss It