Why Me?

Writers: Miriah
Date Posted: 10th March 2019
Series: The Wingleader's Surgery

Characters: Ma'din, D'hol
Description: Ma'din questions D'hol
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 10, day 14 of Turn 9
Notes: Mentioned: Jeyme, Cyradis, N'vanik

Ma'din

D'hol

---

Ma'din walked beside D'hol in the Weyrbowl, his stride more fluid than
the man beside him. The bronzerider walked with his hands at his back,
his posture straighter, but there was a similarity between the two
that couldn't be denied by anyone watching. He kept his voice down,
but not yet at a whisper. "So, it's getting worse."

D'hol's response was brief. "Yes."

Ma'din took a moment to process that, his eyes slightly narrowed.
"Told anybody else yet?"

"No."

"Still planning on going through with it then." He looked over to see
D'hol nod in affirmation. "When, do you think?"

D'hol took a breath. "I thought at first I might have a turn to settle
things, but it appears I have much less than that."

Ma'din frowned. "So if I'd laid in to your stomach, it would have made
things move quicker." He paused, then smirked. "Well, just think how
much I could have been helped, if you hadn't dodged around so much."

D'hol's snort of wry almost-amusement was an answer. "I wasn't quite
ready for that."

Ma'din's smirk fell. "Why did you tell me, D'hol? I'm the last person
anyone would ever expect you to say anything to, much less that." He
frowned. "I would have expected Cyradis or even that former weyrmate
of yours, Jeyme."

D'hol pursed his lips and looked over to where a familiar green lay
sunning herself in the distance. A slender figure could be seen next
to her, but at the distance, he couldn't see what she was doing. He
looked back ahead and considered his words. "That wasn't an option and
it still isn't. For either."

"Let me guess," Ma'din drawled. "Bad blood?"

"You could say that." Privately he doubted that anyone except his two
youngest would really mourn his passing when it came time. No, he
decided, it may well be met with more relief than any grief. Faranth
knew he'd caused both of them enough pain over the past turns and he'd
not made any deep friendships with anyone in his time at Dolphins
Cove. N'vanik, he thought with an odd sense of regret, would likely
throw a party. He could blame none of them.

"So why me?" Ma'din pressed. "You couldn't have known that I would
keep my word about it."

"I didn't. Not at first." D'hol admitted. He had taken a chance, and
he knew it. "I asked around and despite all of the rumors and your
record, one thing that was impressed upon me was that you kept your
word and despite everything, you're my son. I know that your sister
and now your brother are important to you, that family is important to
you. If I'd known about you when you were a child, I would have tried
to be the father that you needed, but I wasn't." He arched a brow as
Ma'din snorted, but continued; the snort didn't hold as much anger as
it had in the past. "You're my eldest, Ma'din. You of all people had
the right to know."

Ma'din's jaw worked from side to side as he digested the information.
He couldn't really say how he felt about it except that he didn't feel
the deep sense of anger towards his father that he had carried for
turns. It was unexpected. He eyed D'hol. "Well, just so you know, I
still don't like you, old man."

That brought a chuckle. "I'm sure. But we're not throwing punches now, are we?"

"Should we? I think this is the first conversation we've had without
them. It might start a horrible habit."

"I'm at a bit of a disadvantage at the moment. I'm afraid I'm not at
my best to knock you on your ass. It might take longer than it
should."

Ma'din barked out a laugh. "Any time, Pops. Next time I won't hold back."

"Really?" D'hol's brows arched. "Then I won't either." He didn't
mention, though he was certain Ma'din knew as well, that there wasn't
likely to be a next time.

Last updated on the March 19th 2019

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Why Me?