It Starts Now

Writers: Chelle, Clancey
Date Posted: 4th January 2012

Characters: P'nal, J'darin
Description: P'nal urges J'darin to make some changes and the bronzerider agrees.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 5, day 7 of Turn 6

J'darin

The brownrider took his seat and gave the bronzerider a look. They both
received a mug of ale and drank without speaking. And then, a second mug
came. P'nal took it slower than the first, waiting to see if J'darin wanted
to talk yet.

J'darin had nothing of slow in his drinking, but was oddly grateful to not
be drinking alone. He hadn't said much, and P'nal, being the friend he was,
hadn't asked for much. One look at those haunted blue eyes had told him all
he needed to know. Only after a great deal of his ale had disappeared, did
he finally speak, and then it was almost a whisper. A harsh one.

"It's my fault. Sick, hurting young girls and boys. My fault. " Especially
the one, the worst one. "Worthless, scarred bronzerider. Yes, that's me,
alright, P'nal. Totally useless. " The rest of the ale disappeared and a
third one showed up shortly after, and that one was beginning to go as well.

This one drew a protest from Hasaarth, but as ever, J'darin refused to
listen.

**Go bother a green!** The "snap" of Hasaarth withdrawing from his mind
just added to the severe pain in his heart. If he'd had any tears left, he
might have shamed himself into crying. But, luckily, he just tilted his mug
up again to hide the pain in his eyes.

"Do you want me to be honest or just listen?" Sometimes, people needed to
talk without receiving feedback. If J'darin wasn't ready for the feedback,
then P'nal knew it would be useless. He hated to see his buddy sitting here
looking like this though. Not after what he had _been_. And his mind went
to the young greenrider who had caused this.

Attempting to focus on his friend, he was silent for a long hard moment.
Then, finally. "I think maybe we can try honesty. I've talked until I'm
blue in the face, mostly to myself, or to my dragon, who thinks we are
capable and perfect for any task we set our mind to, as most bronzes do. I
just... haven't felt ... capable...since we got 'Scored." He absently
rubbed a hand across the jagged, obvious scar on his right arm. It wasn't
disfiguring or even unattractive, but you couldn't tell him that, very much
like the night he'd refused to come out of his weyr and go with Zelle to
Turnover.

Though, the image of that feisty greenrider drew a smile from his lips as
nothing else had, except for _her_ recently.
He wasn't sure he'd talk about _her_. P'nal would no doubt think him
disgusting.

"Well I think that score scared you. You've been second guessing yourself
and feeling guilty about everything ever since. You need to get back to
what you were before. A man who could take thread on and laugh at it. You
were Weyrleader, for Faranth's sake. J'darin, you're a fine man, a fine
rider, and you have a fine dragon. You have people who will stand behind
you. You just have to let it go."

"I have to say, I know this class has had problems and you're trying your
best. However, all the drinking you've been doing has hampered your ability
to keep on top of them. You've become very emotionally involved here.
You're trying to be their friend and not let them know who's who and what's
what." P'nal smiled as he remembered something from their past. "Do you
remember old M'rat? He got us up every morning, told our butts to get it
together, and made sure we had it together or else? We knew what we needed
to and we performed. We respected him. He wasn't our friend and we didn't
dare treat him as such. He got the job done, though. He cared about us
sure, and what happened to us, but we didn't know all that-because we
didn't need to."

J'darin put his glass down with a thump that echoed loudly in his head. "Oh
I tell them who's who and what's what. And I know better than anyone they
can't be my friends. I don't _have_ friends. Except you. And maybe one
other. But you're right about the drinking... I have been drinking alot. I
used to be able to bear the responsibility for their pain the way a proper
Weyrlingmaster should. But that Score scarred me in ways I still don't even
realize..." He tapped his head. "It reminded me that Thread is not
something we can laugh at all our lives and not pay for it eventually." He
sighed, frowning around what P'nal had said - he was right in a lot of ways
- and what was going on his head.

"I am emotionally involved... but you're wrong about all of them ... with
only _one_ of them. And I think that is affecting me as much as this Score.
It's time then." He raised his head and narrowed his eyes at P'nal. "I
didn't like M'rat. He was a growling, bear of a man. But I have to say, we
did respect him, and we learned from him, even without Thread falling to
sear the listen in our thick skulls." He nodded. If he needed to be M'rat,
well, he knew how to do that.

He felt the loneliness closing in again, though, because for just a moment,
he'd believed differently. He'd believed he might actually have friends and
not have to bear this heavy burden alone. But, he'd been alone when he was
Weyrleader. And that job had been harder in many ways, though this job
certainly had its moments.

"Just call me M'rat, then, P'nal. I would be as dense as a sunstruck wherry
if I didn't listen to my dragon _and_ one of my few friends."

"Whatever you need and I can give it, tell me. Your staff too, I'll wager."
He put down his mug and came face-to-face with J'darin. "You're going to be
great again. And scare the shite out of G'nir, U'kaiah, and all the rest.
We need you, you know."

J'darin, had be been other than what he was, might have blushed. P'nal's
blunt praise was almost too much for his disturbed mind. But all the same,
he appreciated it to no end.

He met his friend's eyes and nodded once, sharply. "Thank Faranth I have a
friend like you, P'nal." He thought it was funny to think of scaring the
shite out of G'nir especially. He strongly suspected the man wouldn't scare
no matter how great J'darin might become again.

"So it starts now. No more doubting. Scars or not, Hasaarth is a fine,
strong bronze who chose me all those Turns ago. And they are never wrong.
What I need most is to stop _doubting_. I will feel too much - that won't
change - but I can stop the drinking too much and doubting too much. And
you just slap me around every now and then, eh?" He lifted his glass
ceremonially but did _not_ drink.

"Aye and to the eggs on the sands," P'nal raised his own glass, smiling.

Last updated on the January 18th 2012

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It Starts Now