Attack of the Horrible, Mean, Grouncy Weyrlingmaster

Writers: Len, Clancey
Date Posted: 19th November 2011

Characters: S'vin, J'darin, G'wen
Description: J'darin comes to yell at his stubborn charge, G'wen
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 4, day 21 of Turn 6

J'darin

Whilst the snow was still falling, it was decidedly not a blizzard
out, now. After much complaining, G'wen had contrived S'vin to help
him out to Neath's wallow so he could cuddle with her for a bit. The
tall boy could have carried the greenrider in one arm, so fragile did
G'wen appear. S'vin had to chuckle to himself a bit, as his friend
was too hurt at the moment to rein in his stubborn streak. And he was
more than happy to humour him, as this was just a sign, he had
decided, of how badly the other weyrling had to be feeling.

When G'wen had been so badly hurt and then had almost died of the
infection, S'vin thought his own heart was going to shatter. All the
happy feelings from their childhood friend, Catrien, finally
Impressing had been blown away. And then to come to see the lad the
other day, only to find out that the little git had crawled himself
back to his weyr, still badly injured and weak as a baby feline, S'vin
had wanted to scream at him in frustration and let him know what he
was doing to other people's emotions. But then again, he could
understand. If his beloved Kadeth was outside in a blizzard he too
would have done anything to get him out of it.

So it was a grateful boy that wrapped G'wen up in a blanket, so he
wouldn't get a chill out in the wallow, and turned to change his
bedding, and make him a nice cup of klah. He had it ready and was
about to go retrieve his friend when the door knocked.

"Hello! Whoever it is, just come on in, I need to go get G'wen off
Neath before he freezes to death."

It was J'darin.

He was frowning a little already before he knocked. Why hadn't the
healers made the boy go back to the infirmary? He must be well enough
to stay in his weyr, if they'd let him stay here, after leaving the
infirmary to go to his weyr without permission or help.

J'darin was all for that, if it meant he could be with his dragon.
Some dragons could not abide their riders being in the infirmary,
though Hasaarth was not one of those, thankfully. Else, the sevenday
upon sevendays that J'darin had spent in the Infirmary recovering from
his serious Scoring last turn would have driven the bronze - and maybe
his rider - mad.

At any rate, if the boy was well enough to stay in his weyr, then he
was by Faranth well enough to get yelled at for being too stubborn for
sense.

He would let the healers handle his disobeying of Healer orders.
But the rest of the actions - he would deal with those himself. Other
lives depended on all the riders up in the sky being healthy and
well when they faced their ancient enemy and a rider had to have sense
enough to know he was hurt.
Stubborness was well and good; it often
meant devotion to duty and G'wen and Neath had the makings of a very
fine fighting pair. But stubborness and loyalty had to be tempered
...a little...

And worse, his Wingleader had to had have sense enough to ground them.

Most, if not all, the fault was his, not G'wen's. The boy was young
and young boys often wanted to prove to everyone else - especially
fathers and annoying Holdbred boys - that they were stronger, tougher
and smarter than anyone else. Dragons could be as bad, and Neath had
been showing her stubborn streak since she Impressed her rider. Put
the two together and he was not really surprised they'd somehow
managed to continue to fly, even wounded.

But it could _not_ happen again.

"I'll give you a hand, S'vin." He was saying as he came into the
weyr. "But then I'd like to talk to G'wen, alright?"

The lanky boy nodded. "I told N'den I'd check on him and give Halanth
a bath. She, at least, has sense enough to stay in her wallow and be
comfortable." As he talked, he walked with the Weyrlingmaster to
Neath's wallow where G'wen lay against her shoulder, still incredibly
fragile looking, S'vin thought to himself. He still couldn't believe
the tiny greenrider had done such a crazy thing. He would have been
screaming the Weyr down, if it had been him. Admiration wasn't a word
he thought he'd ever use when thinking of his friend, but he proudly
used it now.

"Hey sweetie, let's get you back in bed now, you're turning greyer
than miss Neath here." The dragon snorted at that and gave Kadeth,
who was curled up beside her, a flat look. "And don't you tell off my
blue, you," S'vin continued. "I've been around you long enough to
know what that look means." Nodding to J'darin, he let the older man
take G'wen's good arm whilst he supported and pushed the boy up from
his rump and good hip.

J'darin let the byplay go on between the two and the dragons, though
he suspected Hasaarth was already talking to the green. They were
both in need of a talking to. J'darin wanted to do it while G'wen
was still recovering not because he was a horrible, mean, grouncy
weyrlingmaster, although, he was all those things. But because it was
one way to show the consequences of stupidity where Thread was
concerned. Some lessons were better learned when the student was
still in enough pain for it to mean something.
He helped S'vin with G'wen, though, and got the boy back into bed.

The youngling still looked unwell, though, and J'darin was on the
verge of ordering him back to the infirmary, but he knew the Healers
would have already forced the boy back into their hands if it was
completely terrible for him to be up in his weyr.

As he looked down at G'wen, he was forcibly reminded of another young
greenrider - Dyaera - who was pretty aggravating about her own
injuries and consistently ignored the advice of her betters and her
healers. How like her he seemed, at the moment.
It was almost enough to stop him yelling at him, but no, he knew they
had to have this talk. And, if he was foolish enough to leave the
care of the healers, even for his dragon, then he was more than ready
to listen.

"Thank you S'vin, your care and concern for your friends is admirable
and appreciated." He smiled at the bluerider. "He's going to be
alright."

He waited to go on, though he did pat G'wen's good shoulder with one
hand and smiled at him as well. "I promise not to eat him, okay?"

"It'd be a stingy meal, if you did." S'vin wryly glanced down at the
rack of bones his friend had become, despite all the treats he and
others had pushed on the boy. "I'll tell N'den hello from you two
then," he added as he walked out the door and down to the infirmary.
**Kadeth, pass on to Hasaarth that G'wen is having a bad day so go
easy.**

G'wen watched the door shut after S'vin had placed the cup of klah in
his hands and had waved them off. Plucking a bit at his furs, he
glanced up at the man standing over him, and waited. This_had_to be
that yelling he knew was overdue to come.

Hassaarth was _very_ firm with Kadeth about a dragon telling his
Wingleader his business. The bronze was proud and did not need any
help from a blue to handle his wing. His rider would trust him and
he would trust his rider.

J'darin payed no attention to the dragons discussion until Hasaarth
turned his attention to Neath, but instead focused on the youngling in
the bed.

He tapped his long fingers on the fur covering before he finally said,
"I'm glad you are feeling well enough to be in your weyr with Neath.
That will help both of you. Even if you left without permission. "
He was quiet a moment, unsure how strong to be, but he felt that this
was a critical lesson for the weyrling to learn before he joined a
fighting Wing, especially with a headstrong dragon.

"Before I tell you what I think of the entire situation that has
brought us here, do you want to say anything?" He wasn't sure how
much energy or strength G'wen had to talk to him, but this would tell
him. If the boy really couldn't talk well, or didn't want to, J'darin
would continue on his own and just let G'wen listen.

In the meanwhile, Hasaarth had landed on the ledge outside and was
talking to Neath.

}:You need to care for yourself, young one. You are not injured.
Yours is injured and not caring for yourself will not help him feel
better. It will only make him feel worse. He came all the way up
here, hurt, mine says, because you would not go into your weyr as you
should. You want to do the right thing for yours, do you not?
Sometimes we have to care for them before anything else. :{ His tone
was light, but firm. It was his "Wingleader" voice, the kind that
expected to be obeyed.

She could choose to ignore him, as she had on the day of the accident,
but that would have a consequence, just as it had that day. Only that
day the consequence had not been punishment, but an injured rider.
If the rider wasn't sensible, occasionally the dragons had to be
sensible in their place.

}:I can't leave him. He almost died.:{ Neath reasoned with Hasaarth.
In her mind, her presense was the only reason G'wen had lived. And
truth be told, it most likely was.

Her lifemate listened to the debate and sighed, feeling bad that he
had led his beloved Neath to this. He eyed J'darin, and then his
drink, before sighing. "I know I'm here because I dd a very stupid
thing. I just didn't want to be the first one hurt...the way all the
blueriders have been treating me..and those Holder boys...I just
couldn't bare to turn out exactly as they all thought, a little
worthless bloody coward who's only worth is to be a pleasing
greenrider and lay on my back for whoever wants me." He looked at
J'darin with sad eyes.

Hasaarth growled at the green. }: You did well to care for him and be
there, and keep him with you. You did well. But.. he is in no danger
of leaving you at this moment, mine says. You will go hunt. If you
do not care for yourself, it will hurt your rider. You must care for
yourself and yours. Both. :{ Only a very foolish, or very stubborn,
green dragon would continue arguing with her wingleader.

Meanwhile, J'darin looked down at the boy in the bed. The sadness
didn't move him too terribly much, though he was sorry for the boy.
And he cared for him, as he did all his trainees . He very much
doubted "all" the blueriders in the Weyr were treating G'wen as a
favor just to lay on his back. Were there some? Surely. There were
some bonehead bronzriders too. But he knew some nice blueriders and
greenriders both, and plenty of them. But now was not the time for
that discussion. G'wen would believe what he liked, and he had surely
had some bad experiences. For certain.

He sighed a little, then his eyes narrowed.

"Listen, G'wen. You're right about it being stupid. You're wrong
about being a 'coward'. Your job is to care for your hide and your
dragon's hide so you can live to fight Thread another day. The one
thing dragonriders are not, is cowards, just by virtue of the job. I
mean, we die in droves to protect others. That is the opposite of
cowardice. I say all that to tell you this: you determine who you
are. Not other riders, not Holder folk, not Crafters. _You_. You
raise your chin and know that you ride a fighting dragon. And if you
get hurt, you show some smarts and _care_ for your dragon and yourself
and get it tended to. There is zero excuse for fighting on with an
injury, least of all being worried about what other people might think
if you did the right thing, and took care of your dragon. What if
Neath had been hurt because of your decision? What if someone else
had been? Our lives are dangerous enough without adding stupidity on
top of stunning bravery. Brave, sure. But be _smart_ and brave.
Not just brave."

"Now, you're hurt badly enough without me continuing to yell at you.
I do want you to get well. But I do not want you to ever do
something like this again, alright?" He patted the boy's hand
gently, lecture mostly over, unless Neath continued to balk.
Something would have to be done about that, and it would have to start
with G'wen, but the poor lad did look a bit done in, and having a
grouncy Weyrlingmaster yelling at your bed side was surely no fun at
all.

The boy looked at him wanly. "To be honest, I really didn't think I
had been hurt all that bad. I mean, riders fly with scores all the
time. I just thought it was something minor...after it happened it
didn't even feel all that bad." He shrugged his good shoulder. "It
didn't really start hurting_really_bad until you took my jacket off."

He blinked a little, shaking his head. Where had he gone wrong in
explaining ? It was his fault. It must be. "G'wen. Riders do not
fly with Scores all the time. They get Scored, they come in and get
it treated. If the Healers say you can go back, then you go. But
_they_ say. Not us." He paused significantly.

"And the reason they don't fly with open Scores is why you are in bed
now. Going /between/ often with open wounds can lead to serious
infection, which, my lad, is what happened to you. Now, if you get
Thread on you and go /between/ before it has time to Score you, then
yes, you keep flying. But not with an open wound, little, big, or
in the middle."

He shook his head and cocked his head toward Neath. "She did well
staying by you when you were sickest, but she needs to eat. If she
disobeys Hasaarth, I'll have to call Onnyth or Genith on her. I
don't want to do that when she is just staying for love of you. So,
part of your work, in addition to healing yourself, is to get your
dragon to listen and take care of her hide. You're going to be
alright, if a while recovering, but she should understand. The sooner
you can get your stubborn green to listen to you, the sooner you'll
have less problems with her later. The pair of you are incredibly,
unbelievably willful, even for dragonriders. " He shook his head, the
last almost spoken to himself.

He continued in that same, soft voice, his eyes unfocused a little.
"Its all my fault anyway, not yours."

The boy blinked at that. "How was it your fault? I was the one who
made the decision, not you." Of all the maudlin, soppy things to say!
He was too sick still to be couth. "Snap out of it! You're right
about Neath, though." To the dragon he said, "Neath! Go eat!"

}:But...but I don't want to leave you!:{ She poked her head into the
weyr proper and stared at him, her eyes whirling fast in her anxiety.

G'wen swallowed the pity he felt at the sight of her and put steel in
his mind voice when he repeated, **you need to eat. Neither one of us
is going to get better unless you do.**

She sighed miserably and followed Hasaath out of the wallow and down
to the hunting grounds.

The boy made an exasperated face and eyed J'darin. "There, that's
done at least. Now you pull yourself together. And I could use
another cup of klah and one of those pasties on the table." Now that
Neath had made a kill he was feeling better enough to eat himself but
not well enough to rein in his bossiness.

J'darin could not help himself.

He burst into laughter.

It was either that, or yell some more, and he had had enough of
yelling for today.
"I should throw the klah on you, insolent whelp. That would teach
you." His eyes narrowed a bit, though laughter was still clearly
evident in his handsome face. "Youngling, you aren't my first injured
charge, and while I wish it weren't so, you will not be my last. Don't
worry about me." But his eyes belied his light tones and humor. He
sighed a bit at the bitter truth, but shook it off to do G'wen's
bidding.

He would not argue with the boy about who's fault it was, at least not
right now. His decision or not, if J'darin had said get your arse
from the sky and stay on the ground, he'd have done it. That made it
his fault, not G'wen's. But that was neither here nor there. If
G'wen was sufficiently chastised enough not to do it again, that would
be enough.
He only hoped he was; it was hard to tell.

Still shaking his head, he fetched the klah and the pastry. He
placed both by the bedside, but did not sit down again. "I'm pleased
Neath listened to you and went with Hasaarth. That will be good for
both of you, although I know she will be back as fast as possible.
I'm also glad you're feeling alright enough to yell at your
Weyrlingmaster. For now, you continue to restore your health - both
of you." A smile then as he prepared to take his leave. "Keep
your green in line, G'wen, you hear?"

"It's not my green you need to be worried about," the boy quipped
before tucking into his sweet.

Last updated on the December 5th 2011

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Attack of the Horrible, Mean, Grouncy Weyrlingmaster