It's Not for Me…

Writers: Rochelle
Date Posted: 27th February 2007

Characters: Tatitem
Description: Tatitem's son visits her at work to make a request for some friends.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 2, day 3 of Turn 4

It was the familiar sound of wood on stone that caused Tatitem to look up from the hidework, startled. She hadn't invited anyone into her office, and there was no one in the open doorway. Outside her office, the kitchen bustled with it's usual activity. She relaxed again, chiding herself. It couldn't have been crutches. The sound was probably just a spoon or a box being set down and distorted by the walls.

She turned back to the accounts, adding the numbers from the recent tithe to the numbers in stores. This recent tithe had been short on a few things, but had compensated with higher amounts of other items. It was irritating, but they hadn't shirked them their due. She'd just have to make sure.

The sound came again, barely audible over the bustle of the kitchen, and was accompanied by a light knock on the doorframe. She looked up to see one of the older drudges there.

"Tati, your son's here to see you."

Tatitem felt her eyebrows raise as J'ritem came into view behind Sril. He had never visited her in her new office before. Normally he waited until she was in her weyr if he wanted to talk to her in private. He said he found her more approachable as his mother than as Headwoman. She'd found that many of his friends among the disabled riders felt the same way, which was why she made a point to speak to them regularly in the dining hall.

"Thanks Sril. Come in, Jer." She said warmly, wondering what had brought this about. Had something happened? Or had he just decided to drop in.?

Sril vanished, leaving J'ritem to swing himself into her office. The door closed behind him -Sril, most likely. He settled into the chair across from her with a grateful sigh as he slid off the crutches, rolling his shoulders. "Hello, Mother." He said with the bitter smile he wore so often. She smiled warmly back at him, wishing that the scars marring his face were less severe. He was no longer recognizable as her kin under them, and his fearsome appearance bothered him more than the loss of his leg and part of his sight.

"Hello. J'ritem." She replied briskly. "What can I do for you?"

J'ritem hesitated a moment, relaxing into the chair. Then. "It's not for me."

Tatitem raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. He did with a sigh. "D'neyaw and G'farl want to become weyrmates, and they wanted me to ask if it might be possible."

"Why didn't they come themselves?" She inquired with a frown. G'farl was missing an arm, but otherwise in good health. D'neyaw however had been severely scored and sustained so much muscle damage in his limbs that he could barely walk. Both riders were out of the fighting wings, but D'neyaw was the only one who required a ground-level weyr.

"D'neyaw's in the infirmary with an infection. G'farl's sitting with him."
J'ritem explained. "They both know how hard it is to get a two-dragon ground-level weyr, so they wanted me to ask if it was even possible before they set their hearts on it."

His voice changed on the last few words, becoming a bitter, self-mocking tone that she heard all too often from her son when depressed. She recognized the warning sign as she answered smoothly. "I'm not sure, but I'll see what I can do. I assume their dragons think this is a good idea?"

"Yes." He answered shortly, frowning at her. She saw the flicker behind his eyes though, and sighed inside. If only. Tati thought for a moment before she continued, tapping her pencil absently on the hide in front of her. She liked G'farl and D'neyaw. They were good friends to her son, and she was glad they'd finally realized their feelings for each other were mutual. "There are a few caverns that might work for Tromoth and Eskilth. I have to look things over before I can be certain, but I think there is a good chance I can squeeze them in somewhere."

"Thank you, Mother. I'll tell them." J'ritem said stiffly, and reached for his crutches again. She interrupted him, wishing that she could do more, but.

"J'ritem." She said softly. He stiffened as she continued. "You'll find someone one day."

He laughed in answer, his voice harsh and bitter, the sound echoing against the walls of her office and leaving her both sad and irritated at his stubborn refusal to believe he wasn't a living nightmare. She stood, but before she could say anything, J'ritem had pulled himself onto his crutches and inclined his head. "Goodbye, Mother."

"J'ritem!" said sharply, but he was already pushing the door open and swinging away. She watched him go in frustration as he worked his way through the kitchens. It wouldn't do to go chasing after him when he'd made up his mind not to listen, and he knew she wouldn't. Not when she'd look foolish in front of her workers. Which was probably why he'd sought her in her office.

She glowered at a nearby worker who'd apparently thought that the door being closed was invitation to slack off, and the girl hurriedly resumed chopping. She gave an irritated sigh as she returned to her desk and began sorting through the accounts again with a snarl. The weyr came first, as much as she disliked that necessity some days. She could hunt J'ritem down and give him a piece of her mind later.

Last updated on the February 28th 2007

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It's Not for Me…