Tell Me What You Really Think

Writers: Eimi, Rochelle
Date Posted: 17th September 2007

Characters: Gilsha, F'melar
Description: Gilsha is not impressed with F'melar, but she tries...
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 6, day 3 of Turn 4

F'melar slapped Oemorth's neck affectionately, and then slid down his side to the ground, Tabs and Affi swooping above him. They had the lake nearly to themselves, save for a few greenriders bathing their dragons.
He preferred it that way. The fewer people there were, the fewer people who could make it difficult for him to hear anything.

"Go rinse, you big lump." He told Oemorth, and with a glance around to make sure no one was close enough that he might want their help, included his flits in the order as well. Oemorth immediately belly-flopped into the water, swamping his rider and the two flits about to take a dive. Tabs and Affi settled onto Oemorth's headknobs, berating the blue loudly and flicking their wings. Drenched, F'melar roared at his lifemate in disgust. "Why'd you do that you oversized wherry?"

"Because you should have known better," Gilsha replied from the shore for the paddling blue.

F'melar glanced around, and spotted the greenrider. Shards. He stripped off his clammy shirt before he answered, wringing the wet fabric between his hands. "Maybe, but the same can be said for him. She yours?" He nodded toward a nearby green.

"We're each other's, actually." Gilsha was never comfortable with the idea that Pali somehow _belonged_ to her. F'melar grunted. He seemed to belong to Oemorth rather than vice-versa, but everyone referred to their relationship with their lifemates differently. "F'melar, and the oversized dolphin there is Oemorth." He offered, stepping out of his shoes and socks before rolling up his pant legs. He saw no reason not to be comfortable while washing his dragon.
Tabs chirped agreement.

"I'm Gilsha, and my green's Palialohath." She hadn't remembered seeing him before. At least not in drills. "Which wing are you in?"

F'melar tried not to hunch his shoulders, reminding himself that it wasn't a demotion, that he was still a working rider and fought Thread with the rest of the weyr. But shards if the question didn't still sting! "Sienna. You?" He almost growled, daring her to comment.

Gilsha was never one to let a little growl stop her from saying what was on her mind. "Cyan. Threadscore?"

"Yes." F'melar said shortly, picking up the sweetsand as Oemorth obediently trundled out of the water, Tabs and Affi still clinging to his headknobs.

"I'm sorry, is that a touchy subject?" Gilsha asked innocently, though it was obvious from his sour demeanor that it was.

The glare he shot at her for a split second before catching himself and turning away again could have seared Thread. He didn't trust himself to answer her barb, so said nothing, fuming to himself and listening to Oemorth's mental sigh. He had walked into that one, and he knew it. Gilsha couldn't help pushing a little more. One thing she hated was someone who felt sorry for themself. "Well, it hasn't killed you yet, now has it? I mean, after all, it will get most of us in the end anyway. It seems you're not so bad off."

He laughed, the sound harsh as he rinsed a brush in the water before starting to scrub Oemorth. "Maybe. But what good is a deaf rider?" He said bitterly. "Most people just get a few scars. _I_ lose my craft and barely miss being assigned to Slate Wing." It felt good to vent a little, even if the bitter words were mostly to himself.

Oemorth sighed audibly, knowing that it wasn't worth arguing with him in this mood. The blue looked out at Palialohath, still in the water. }:Is yours ever like this?:{ }:Only during 'that time of the month'. Maybe it's that time for your rider too?:{ Pali suggested helpfully.

}:Maybe. I'll ask.:{ Oemorth conceded, although he didn't know what 'that time of the month' meant. }:Is it your 'time of the month'?:{ Oemorth asked his rider curiously.

F'melar choked on his own breath for a second, and promptly tripped on the bag of sweetsand by his feet, leaving him on his butt in the shallows. He stared up at his blue, his eyes bulging as he spluttered "'Time of the month'? No! It is _not_ my 'time of the month'. Men don't sharding _have_ a 'time of the month'. Where did you come up with that idea?" He demanded.

"Dragons say the darndest things sometimes," Gilsha grinned, trying not to laugh at him outright.

He glanced back at Gilsha. Oh Shards. "They do." He agreed stiffly, standing back up and retrieving the brush. Shardit. He'd made a fool of himself. **Why in Faranth's name did you ask _that_?**

}:I wanted to know.:{ Oemorth answered placidly, pleased that his rider had been distracted. He preened a little, twisting his wings slightly so that the sun shone through them for Palialohath's benefit.

F'melar shook his head and huffed. "Dragons." He muttered.

Pali definitely appreciated the blue's handsome show. }:I like Oemorth.
He's very nice.:{
**Seriously? You'd do that to me?** Gilsha inwardly sighed. One day of flirting never determined who Pali would choose, of course. She was as like to forget him as remember when lust came into play. Still, it would be better to be prepared and make peace before they woke up between the sheets. "Listen, I'm sorry to hear how rough it's been for you, but its good to see that you're still giving your all to the Weyr. That's very big of you."

F'melar snorted derisively. "It isn't big. It's selfishness. It's all that I can do anymore." He sighed, going to work on Oemorth's hindquarters and hoping that the blue didn't make any other startling announcements.

"Well, at least you're not just sitting around feeling sorry for yourself." Gilsha was careful not to let the sarcasm drip into her tone.

}:I like her.:{ Oemorth told his rider, contemplating F'melar with a lazy eye. }:She's right.:{ F'melar flinched and gritted his teeth, resenting his dragon's comment and knowing that Oemorth was correct. Just like every other time. He'd heard the meaning behind Gilsha's words, even if it hadn't entered her tone. He'd heard it from most people at Rising Moons. And he tried not be resentful, shardit he _tried_! But it wasn't easy -or possible- to be happy all the time! "You can tell me what you really think, Gilsha." He said quietly. "I know I'm being a selfish wherry."

She shrugged. He said it. "And yet the knowledge doesn't seem to be doing you much good. Why should I tell you what you already know? What good will it do you?"

F'melar hesitated, having only caught part of the sentence around the splash of Oemorth's foot shifting in the water. Knowing he would not care for the answer, but dreading a scene if he didn't reply, he queried Oemorth, who in turn asked Palialohath. He flinched again when he got the rest of her comment, and finally answered wearily. "Maybe if I hear it often enough it will stick. I'm sorry. I try not to be like this, but it's hard not to sometimes. I didn't mean to take it out on you." He finished grudgingly. Shards. He hated having to ask Oemorth to relay human conversation -it felt wrong and there was always the chance the other rider would overhear the dragons talking.

Unfortunately Pali had been too busy flirting with the blue to have noticed her riders conversation and had to ask Gilsha to repeat it. "You could have asked me directly, you know," she said, surprisingly gently. "I would have repeated it for you. There's no shame in it."

F'melar froze. "You heard Oemorth asking, didn't you." He stated quietly, turning to face her.

"I heard my lifemate asking me, and she would not have cared what I said if she had not been asked," Gilsha replied matter of factly.

"Ah." **Shardit.** F'melar did a thin smile. "I'm so used to Oemorth helping me track them that sometimes I forget not all dragons are that interested in our conversations."

"Yes, well, perhaps you should cut out a step and just ask if you can't hear what I say. It's not like you did something shameful that you are being punished for. Threadscore injuries is just a fact of life now." Unfortunately.

"In the future, I'll do that with you." He said stiffly. "But I tried that before, at Rising Moons. And got tired of people getting frustrated or angry with me for having to ask them to repeat themselves all the time. Or yelling at me, or outright ignoring me because they thought I couldn't hear them."

Gilsha frowned slightly. "Well, then they're ignorant sons of wherries and they aren't worth brooding on. You can ask me any time."

F'melar gave a short bark of derisive laughter. "They may not be worth brooding on, but I'd rather not have to be dealing with them all the same. It's just easier when people don't know unless they have to."

Gilsha raised an eyebrow incredulously. It was obvious this bluerider had issues. "Well, now I know. And I'd much rather you speak to me directly."

"Your preference is noted." He said with a slight mocking bow and a flourish with the scrub brush. "And I will certainly do so in the future. Just," he grimaced. "Don't expect to have much of a conversation if we're in any type of crowd."

Gilsha wasn't entirely sure they could hold much of a conversation even if they were hidden in the black bowels of the Weyr. The man seemed much too absorbed in himself and his own problems. "I'll keep that in mind. Now I must scrub my own beauty."

"Of course." F'melar agreed, turning back to Oemorth still waiting patiently for him in the shallows.

Last updated on the September 17th 2007

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Tell Me What You Really Think