Bearer of the Bad News Already Borne (2/2)

Writers: Aaron, Estelle
Date Posted: 13th February 2019

Characters: Brennault, R'fal
Description: Brennault tells R'fal about the gossip he has heard.
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 7, day 6 of Turn 9

Brennault

R'fal slid down from his back and rested a hand on the brown's foreleg,
silently thanking him for the ride. He looked tired and anxious, with
faint shadows under his eyes that hadn't been there before, and his mood
was reflected in the swirls of yellow-orange visible in Marlath's
faceted eyes. The brown lowered his head, curving his neck in towards
his rider as if to protect him.

"Brennault!" He made an effort to smile. "Welcome back to the Weyr."

Brennault could see the smile was not entirely the usual smile, and
aside from that, R'fal looked positively exhausted. Brennault winced a
bit but did his best to smile back. "Hey, R'fal," he said, reaching out
to touch his arm.

"Your letter's got its hand-off to the next leg of its journey," he went
on, starting with the good news. "But I heard back from the runner who
took it on when he came back to the waystation. Well, wings can carry
news faster than legs..." Brennault was not one to beat about the bush,
but he truly was worried now for R'fal's feelings.

"Someone from your home hold's been arrested on some kind of conspiracy
charges or something like that for collaborating with pirates." There.
It was all on the table. "That was all I heard, and... Well, I can't see
how you haven't already heard, but I didn't want to risk leaving it
unsaid and letting you be blindsided if I could help it."

"I've heard," R'fal said, his voice low. "The Weyrlingmaster told me."
But he hadn't even thought of it being known around the holds. Of
course, people would talk about an arrest. He might have done, in other
circumstances. Shame welled up, like a bitter taste in his throat. He
could leave, go back to his weyr with Marlath. If you had a secret, you
didn't tell it to a runner.

But Brennault wasn't just any runner, and suddenly the effort of keeping
it hidden from his classmates and friends was too much. "It was my father."

Brennault usually asked about hugs. But his urge to comfort R'fal was
too much to hold in, and he was acting before he was thinking, going in
to hug R'fal.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I hoped maybe you didn't even know them."
He doubted that was much comfort. There was likely nothing he could say
to that effect. "Your clutchmates miss you. And... well, I don't know
anything, but. Someone once told me that the bonds you make with them,
your clutchmates, they can be forever. They are forever. And I... I
think you should come down. And be with them. Because this is no time to
be alone, and they're worried for you. I know they want to be here for
you."

"They do?" It hadn't occurred to R'fal that the other weyrlings might be
concerned about him. His father's predicament had consumed his thoughts,
ever since the Weyrlingmaster had given him the letter. "I just - I
haven't told anyone, except the Weyrlingmasters, and they knew already.
I don't want them to think that my Da is a...what they say. He didn't do
this, Brennault. He couldn't have!"

"You're the first person I told about this since I've been back. I asked
Lydela and Liannith to help me get a hold of you, but I didn't say what
it was about," Brennault explained. "But she said your class is worried
about you. They'll believe you. I believe you. Even if you don't tell
them what happened, they can still tell you're upset. And they can still
help support you."

"This will get sorted," he said. "It might take some time, but it will.
Until then, come to lunch?"

"I don't really have much of an appetite..." Lately, going to eat with
his classmates, with all of their laughter and chatting about the day's
drills and who was in and out of who's weyr, had become unthinkable. It
couldn't be right to join in with that when his father was languishing
in a prison cell at the Hold. He had taken to avoiding the dining cavern
at mealtimes and slipping in later to pick up a snack or some leftovers.

Besides, these were their last few sevendays before they faced Thread
for the first time. R'fal wanted to believe that Brennault was right and
that his classmates wouldn't think badly of him. They were the closest
friends he'd ever had. But, that being so, he shouldn't burden them with
his troubles.

"I understand what you're saying." He ran a hand through his hair, and
Marlath stirred at his side, his eyes whirling faster. "I'm just...not
sure I can face them, all at once."

"Well, I'm not going to throw you over my shoulder. But I really think
you should reconsider. Even if you don't tell them what's happened, I
don't think it's good to be alone with this kind of worry on your mind,"
said Brennault. He patted R'fal's arm again.

"I'm having a bit of a drink with Lydela, but if you really don't want
to come, I can come find you after lunch. I'm not leaving again until
tomorrow."

Despite his mood, a trace of R'fal's former easy good humour appeared in
his smile. "Um, if that's the case, it might be better if I'm not
around. She might want you all to herself." His fellow weyrling had been
quite taken with the runner when they'd last met. "We have drills this
afternoon, but..." He took a breath. "Maybe I'll come to dinner."

"One step at a time, right?" asked Brennault, returning R'fal's smile.
Nobody got him *all* to themselves, but he was looking forward to seeing
Lydela for more than a moment himself. "I'll bug you again before I head
out if I don't see you," he promised.

"Yes, sir. I'll be there." R'fal gave him a dragonrider's salute, and
there was a spark in his eyes that hadn't been there before. He turned
to go and was about to climb up to Marlath's back when the young brown
rumbled gently and breathed out a gust of warm air towards Brennault.
"Oh! He wants me to tell you he's glad you're here. He says you made me
feel better. And...Marlath!" He shook his head helplessly. "He's going
to lunch now. You can ask him to scratch you another time."

Brennault grinned and did his best imitation of the salute in return. He
could see the spark, and it was more reassuring than the words alone.

"Thanks for bringing him down, buddy," said Brennault to the brown,
happily approaching to give Marlath a vigorous and grateful scratching.
"I've always got time for scratchies."

To R'fal, he said, "I'm glad I could help. I'm glad you're both here, too."

"Thank you, all the same. It means a lot, that you came and told me,
even if I knew." A shadow crossed the weyrling's face as he remembered,
but for now, Marlath's pleasure was enough to keep his fears at bay.
"Well, you'd better not keep Lydela waiting. I'll see you at dinner?"

"You're welcome. And I'll see you at dinner!" Brennault promised.

Last updated on the February 28th 2019

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Bearer of the Bad News Already Borne (2/2)