Who's it gonna hurt?

Writers: Ang, Clancey
Date Posted: 12th January 2012

Characters: N'klar, D'ret
Description: Daret learns there could be a difference between a good vintage and rotgut
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 6, day 5 of Turn 6
Notes: Mentioned: Headwoman and Weyrlingmaster

N'klar

Shells and shards, it was cold during Threadfall. To think that
dragonriders dealt with this cold every day by going between was
something that Daret didn't like to dwell on. Why hadn't he gone to
Dolphin Cove Weyr instead where it was warmer? Oh, that's right, the
Searchrider was from here, not there. Well, what could he do about it
now? Drink enough to keep him warm, that's what. He'd been sipping
some disgusting wine through the Fall with the pretense that it was
water. Who's it going to hurt? It's not like he was falling down
drunk.

Shifting the skin more comfortably at his waist, he trudged a bit
awkwardly through the last of the weyrbowl debris as he pulled his
jacket tighter around his petite frame. It was always a tad messy
after a long Fall. He tried to stay and clean it up but the staffer
that oversaw his group took one look at him and pointed towards the
lower cavern entrance. With a saucy grin and slight stumble, he left
them to their task with the hope of finding someone enjoyable to share
the rest of his wine with.

Just as he reached for the door to the entrance, Daret tripped on
something and slammed into the rock wall. That he would have seen it
fine if he were completely sober didn't occur to him. Turning his
back to the wall, he slid to the ground with his legs spread out
before him. He sat there blinking tears away while taking stock of
any damage. "Oww," he mumbled as his fingers gently probed his sore
nose.

N'klar had served in the first half of Fall this time, so he was on
hand in the Bowl with several other first half riders washing dragons
free of the stink of Thread. But, he was the only one who saw the
youngling run headlong into the wall near the barracks, the others
being caught up in caring for their dragons.

He frowned. Weyrlings generally had heavy duties on Fall days, but
this was no weyrling that he saw sprawled there. He thought he
recognized one of the longer term Candidates. Something wasn't right
here, but he decided to help first, then ask later.

"Lad? Lad do you need a hand?" He couldn't quite recall his name,
thought he eventually would, he knew. Julerith did not usually pay
attention to the Candidates, but he often noticed weyrlings.

He stooped over him and shook his head with a faint sniff. His trained
and sensitive nose recognized the smell of poorly made wine easily.
"You do need a hand don't you?" He said as he offered his hand to
help Daret stand on his own two feet.

Looking past his fingers, Daret blinked several times before
recognizing the man standing before him. His mouth fairly drooled as
he stared a bit longer than he should. He'd noticed the bluerider
months ago because of his handsomeness and attitude about
relationships that so matched his own. "Think I broke my nose," he
mumbled before he reached out with his free hand and clasped the one
offered to him. His head swam a bit but it wasn't from the wine … oh
no, it was the knock on the nose, that's all. At least, that's what
he was telling himself.

He groaned inwardly as he stood because his stomach rolled a bit. He
was in for it now and he could just imagine being reprimanded for
puking all over the man. If he could just make it to his bunk, he'd
be safe to feel rotten. "Thanks for the help, sir. I'll just make my
way inside now …"

N'klar helped him up, then attempted to steady him with a hand as he
stood, but didn't dismiss him to go inside just yet. "You will not.
I want to know why you smell like wine on a Threadfall day? You
weren't drinking, were you?" N'klar looked at the youngling, once
again trying to place his face. Ahh. Daret. He'd been at the Weyr
for a few turns now, and really ought to know better than this, N'klar
was thinking. And its not like anyone in the Weyr made a habit of
giving younglings wine to drink, unless they were family members or
had older friends. But, it was a Weyr, and most things were
accessible to anyone who lived there, included some of the cheaper
wines.

It was true, having been at the Weyr for three turns, Daret had plenty
of contacts for many things but he wasn't about to admit it. Midnight
blue eyes widened at the questions and he assumed his most innocent
expression. "Me? Drinking? Why … I … " he stammered, trying to think
of anything that would get him out of this trouble as his fingers
gently poked the waterskin. "Okay, a little but it was only to keep
me warm! It's sharding *cold* today."

N'klar didn't need to taste the contents of the waterskin to know it
would foul his tongue just with one drop. "You sharding idiot.
You're lucky I don't fetch the Headwoman or the Weyrlingmaster to set
you right. A painful nose is scant punishment for doing something
you know better than to do, hmm? If you want to keep warm, drink
klah. There is always hot klah available, and especially on
Threadfall days." His voice was firm but not reprimanding. The
innocent eyes and sad expression had gotten to him, and the bluerider
couldn't stop himself from helping younglings. It was why he spent
so much time with G'wen, and this lad reminded him of G'wen in some
ways, and that made him inclined to be nice. N'klar crossed his own
arms and finally smiled a little. "I was young once myself."

"Well, I don't think I'll turn you in. To me, being a Vintner and
all, drinking that cheap wine is almost as serious an offense as
drinking anything while you're supposed to be working. So, as part
of your punishment, I am definitely going to show you what real wine
tastes like - you'll never drink that awful stuff again once you have
some _good_ wine. " He had none to hand since he'd been bathing
Julerith, but he would offer a later time. And perhaps cure the lad
of drinking that awful rotten vintage. For good.

"When you're feeling better, because you are about to feel very
rotten, come and find me. I'll share some _real_ wine with you.
Besides being much more enjoyable to drink, good wine doesn't leave
you with as rotten an aftertaste and headache. If you don't
overindulge! We'll see how you feel after that hmm?"

Daret winced as N'klar scolded him but he knew even in his inebriated
state that he was getting let off easy. He swore he'd never do
anything this stupid again. As much as he hated klah, he'd make
himself get used to it. "Yes, sir. I'll be sure to drink klah," he
said with a grimace of distaste and whispered, "Even if it kills me."

N'klar was once a vintner? Daret wouldn't know good wine from bad and
it only made him wonder what the difference was. "You're still
young!" he defended as his fingers gently probed his nose. It had
started bleeding lightly but was quick to mop it up with his sleeve.

Then his mouth dropped open at the blueriders offer. His entire body
vibrated at the thought of a lesson in winetasting and his overactive
imagination jumped to the effects of such a tasting. Of course, it
probably wasn't what N'klar was thinking at all. "Are you funnin' me,
sir? You'd really teach me? Thank you!" he nearly shouted as he
jumped into the air then grimaced again as his head protested such
cruel treatment. Raising his hand to hold his nose, he groaned and
nodded but couldn't keep the smile off his face.

"No, I am not "funnin'" you, lad. Consider it a reward if you get in
no more trouble for a bit, hmm?" The older man looked cautiously at
the boy and his nose and said quietly, "Maybe you should get that seen
to in the Infirmary? Your minor injury won't be odd, after Thread,
though you'll have to tell them that you received it tripping and
falling." which was true, after all.

"I can handle the embarrassment, sir. Thank you!" Daret grinned and
slowly walked backwards to be sure N'klar didn't change his mind. To
him, Bluerider N'klar was the greatest man who ever lived!

"Just remember, Daret. If I ever catch you doing anything like this
again, I _will_ tell both the Weyrlingmaster and the Headwoman.
Understand?" He called after the youngling. He thought the boy
suitably chastised, and dealing with the painful nose was a fair
punishment.

Last updated on the January 18th 2012

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