How This Ends

Writers: Sia
Date Posted: 30th September 2024

Characters: Aleriand, J'ine
Description: Aleriand and J'ine talk about what happened at Turn's End
Location: Printer Hall
Date: month 2, day 5 of Turn 12
Notes: Follows "The Risks We Take"

Aleriand

The days after Turn's End dragged on like a bad Fall, each one heavier than the last. A shadow grew over the Printer Hall, as dark as Aleriand's increasingly bad mood. Edits were harsh, minor fixes stayed broken, and apprentices scattered whenever they saw him coming. He threw himself into his work, and the Journeymens' work, for good measure. A month passed without a word.

Aleriand had been so focused on his work that he didn't hear the sound of dragonwings out in the yard that evening, but he noticed the suddenly silent and empty Hall at nearly the same time he saw J'ine in the doorway. He straightened from where he'd been bent, pouring over the latest newspaper layout. The artificial light was harsh on the bronzerider's worn face, deepening the lines of exhaustion that hadn't been there before.

J'ine cleared his throat, trying to sound casual. "You're still at it, huh?"

Aleriand didn't answer right away. They stared at each other for a long, heavy moment. Eventually, Aleriand answered, his tone flat. "There's always more work to do."

J’ine shifted awkwardly, forcing a smile as he approached. “Seems like you never stop. You know, you should take a break now and then.”

Aleriand’s hands stilled over the paper. “Why are you here, J’ine?”

The bronzerider cleared his throat and shook his head. He took a step closer, trying to maintain his easy tone. "I thought that I'd check in. See how you were doing. It's been a while."

Aleriand's gaze was unreadable, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions that had persisted through the Hall for sevendays. "Yes," He said quietly, "It has."

J'ine smiled, bright and forced. His voice light. "So, you've been all right?"

Aleriand raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitching in a humorless smirk. "Fine." He said simply, then added, "And you?"

“Yeah, fine,” J’ine replied quickly, too quickly. He rubbed the back of his neck, his usual confidence faltering. “You know, busy. Drills, sweeps, the usual.”

The silence that followed was thick and uncomfortable. Aleriand studied him with that calm, unreadable expression that drove J’ine mad. He was waiting, J’ine realized. Waiting for something more.

J'ine shifted again, his casual facade cracking under the weight of that gaze. "Look," He said as he anxiously ran a hand through his hair. "About what happened at Turn's End…I didn't mean for things to get so tense. I was just frustrated, and- "

"Frustrated." Aleriand said. His voice raised a little, the edge to it unmistakable. J'ine had laughed about Aleriand's anger once. Had enjoyed seeing it unleashed on others, on his next row at the Weyr or at the Harper Hall. Now it wasn't so funny. "Is that what you call it?"

J'ine flinched. "I didn't mean it like that."

"How do you mean it, then?"

"I just- look, I came because I missed you. I tried to write, but it felt wrong. We needed to talk, but I couldn't bring myself to come back here. Can we start over? Pretend Turn's End didn't happen. We can drink, we can laugh, we can-"

Aleriand's eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment J'ine thought he might actually laugh. But instead the Hallmaster leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, his gaze unwavering. "But it did happen."

J'ine shrugged, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "We both said things we didn't mean. I was angry, and you were…stressed. We've had spats before. Can't we just move past it?"

"Spats?" Aleriand repeated. "This wasn't a bit of bickering. This wasn't a little fight. This isn't just one drunken mistake. I'd hoped that whenever you decided to appear here, you'd at least have the decency to apologize. I don't know why, you've never apologized before, so why should you start now?"

J'ine's stomach churned, the artificial brightness of his smile fading. "We don't _have_ to fight about this." He said, "It was a mistake."

"It wasn't. How many times have you shown up here without a care for what happens to me when you're gone? How many times have I let you do it? You come in here, smiling and ready to crack a joke. Always the jokes- it was funny when we were kids, when we were young and stupid and didn't have half the responsibility or the self-preservation."

J'ine bristled, the frustration bubbling up again. "_This_ is why I start with jokes. I hardly see you anymore. I don't want the time we _do_ spend together like this."

"Of course, you want to spend it making out across the protectorate."

"You expect me to keep pretending that we don't matter?" J'ine snapped.

"I never said you don't matter." Aleriand snapped, his calm finally cracking, "I love you. I've never _stopped_ loving you, Faranth help me. But I keep telling you: I'm not at the Weyr anymore. There's a lot more at stake now. I can't risk the Crafthall for this."

"The Crafthall." J'ine repeated, incredulous and angry, "Come on. You're one man. This," He gestured around at the building, "isn't going to crumble because of _us_-"

Aleriand silently rolled up a sleeve and raised his hand, showing the familiar burn scars from the Harper Hall fire. The two stood in silence, tense and sad. "I don't understand why you won't believe me." Aleriand finally said flatly. "You have to make light of it. I can't keep allowing it. I think you should go."

J'ine opened his mouth to respond- to argue, to plead, to do something- but the words caught in his throat. He looked as if Aleriand had punched him. "Aleriand-"

"Go, J'ine. We both know how this ends."

J'ine stared at Aleriand for a long moment. Then, without another word, J'ine turned and walked out. The door slammed shut behind him. Soon, Aleriand heard the echo of Iyoth taking off.

The Printer Hall was silent once again. Aleriand looked around the empty workroom. Cursing softly, he went back to work.

Last updated on the October 6th 2024

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How This Ends