Unconventional Pep Talk

Writers: Estelle, Miriah
Date Posted: 31st January 2020

Characters: Lorican, Lusilk
Description: Lorican gets a "pep" talk from Lusilk
Location: Barrier Lake Weyrhold
Date: month 1, day 14 of Turn 10
Notes: Mentioned; Urlene, Y'gel, Dunrik
Note: Occurs immediately after "Letters of Pain"

Lusilk

Three heartbeats passed, and the brown dragon appeared high above
Barrier Lake. Lorican gasped for breath, having gone into that darkness
unprepared, and felt himself flung back in the riding straps as the
brown dragon banked.

"What are you _doing_?" The brownrider half-turned in his straps, and
Lorican was startled to see that his eyes were blazing with fury.
"Crackshelled idiot!"

"What? We have to go b..."

"We're not going anywhere!" The man gritted his teeth. "Shut your
flaming mouth and sit still, crafter!"

Stunned into silence, Lorican clung on to the straps as the dragon
winged down to land in the cleared area in the middle of the crafter
village. The dragonrider undid the straps and half-shoved Lorican down
the brown's side, so he landed hard on the ground.

"Don't you ever, EVER distract a rider when he's about to go /between/
again!" His face was as white as a sheet, and Lorican realised suddenly
that the man was deathly afraid. "We have to focus on where we're going.
We might never have come out of there!"

An icy chill ran down the smith's spine. Lost, forever, in that place
outside time. "I - I'm sorry..."

"You will be. Good luck getting anyone to transport you anywhere, once
I've told my Wingleader what you did!" The brownrider turned his back on
Lorican without another word and strode off in the direction of the
caverns. The dragon turned his head and regarded Lorican with glowing,
unreadable eyes.

"Sorry," Lorican said again, softly, and backed away, numb with shock.
What had he done? He'd nearly caused the loss of a dragonpair, on top of
all the other misery he was responsible for. Even now, Urlene would be
opening that letter, and there was no way in the world he could stop her.

With nothing else to do, he walked over to the smithy in a daze, went
through the motions of putting on apron and goggles and building up the
forge fire, since the apprentices had the restday off. Leaving the more
complicated piece he'd been working on for the technicians, he picked up
an order for shelf brackets and began to work while his mind replayed
the events of the last hours, over and over. If only he'd waited a few
moments longer. What was Urlene feeling now? Did she have the
bronzerider with her, for comfort? He could only hope so, for he
couldn't bear to think of her alone.

When evening came, he hardly noticed and Master Dunrik had to call him
three times before he realised it was time to finish for the day. He
managed some vague explanation, saying that he'd been to the Weyr but
the woman he'd gone to see had been busy, and had started towards the
bathing pool before he remembered it was the evening for practice with
Lusilk.

He picked up the hammer, more out of habit than anything else, and
slowly walked back up the path and around the bay, past the staff
quarters and the Weyrbowl and out towards the little copse that had
become their practice ground.

Lusilk was there, seated cross-legged on a fallen log, sharpening her
blade with long strokes against a whetstone. At the rustle of branches
and footfalls, she looked up and spotted Lorican. She read the set of
his shoulders, the expression on his face, and slowly sheathed the
knife. Since she'd first begun to get to know him, it hadn't been
difficult to learn to read his emotions and body language. She also knew
where he'd gone.

Some deep, long hidden and discarded part of her wanted to immediately
rise and offer comfort to quell that hopeless, defeated expression on
his face. It was ruthlessly quashed by reality; she wasn't his
comforter. Everyone ultimately stood on their own and if they rose or
fell, it was because of their own actions. Her brows snapped down. "I
take it you talked to her. "

Lorican shook his head. "No. She was...unavailable. So I left her a
note." He sighed heavily, letting the hammer hang loosely at his side.
"It's done. I broke it off. She'll be safe now."

"That's what has to happen." She eyed the hammer, weighing if he was
just acting to distract her, but then remembered that he wasn't that
good of an actor. "Bring the hammer up, Lorican. It's going to get late
soon. "

He started to raise his arm, then let it drop again as if the hammer
he'd used for so many Turns was suddenly too heavy to lift. "I don't
know if I can do this any more, Lusilk. What's the point? I'm clearly
not suited to it and you said yourself this man is like to kill me no
matter how hard I train. Perhaps it's better if I just...let him. If I
don't fight, maybe it'll be quick."

Her eyes narrowed and a glint of anger gleamed in the dark orbs before
she lunged at him, drawing the dagger across his chest to score his
tunic. "Coward." She snarled, barreling into him with a shoulder at
his midsection to knock him flat on his back.

Straddling his waist, she took a fistful of his tunic and yanked him to
put his face close to hers. "You coward. One bit of pain and you give
up?" She wanted to shake him. "I had to send my family north, put a
blade to my little sister's throat, who I loved more than myself just to
convince my mother to leave with her. To be safe. I spent five months
in a Lord Holder's prison cells as his son's fecking personal toy
because I saved someone I cared about. And you can only imagine what
that man took pleasure in every fecking night. I've had to force Silgan
into silence for his own safety. It hurts him and isolates him. Don't
you ever talk to me about it being too much, you arse."

Lusilk snorted and falsely whined. "Oh, I'm hurting. I hurt someone I
care for. I'm a horrible person." She dropped him, but stayed pining
him to the ground. "You think you're the only one who's ever loved? You
have a chance to see yours and try again! I've put myself at risk
helping you. Who do you think sent me to kill you, Lorican? It was
_him_ , this Ilvar, and he doesn't take kindly to failure. My life is
forfeit, do you understand? Now get the feck up and keep fighting!"

He glared at her, but there was a spark of defiance in his eyes that had
been missing since his return from Dolphin Cove. "I can't! You're
sitting on me! Let me up."

She smirked and crossed her arms. "Make me. Or did you leave your
bollocks behind at the Weyr?"

Lorican made an inarticulate sound, reached up to grasp her shoulders
and rolled, shoving her to the ground beside him. For once, his deep
inhibition against using his strength on a woman, even one armed with a
knife, was overcome by sheer frustration. "You know what? This has been
the worst day of my life. I've probably lost the only woman I'll ever
love, my Master thinks I've got the morals of a tom feline and to cap it
all I nearly killed a dragonpair on my way back. And you just laugh at
me!" He scrambled to his knees, looking for the hammer he'd dropped.
"I'm not like you. This isn't how I was supposed to live."

Lusilk saw that glimmer of temper and rolled to her feet, sweeping her
leg out to kick him firmly in the arse before she tackled him again,
putting her knee in his back to keep him down. "Oh boohoo, your life
isn't how you thought it would be." She pressed her hands on his
shoulders and spoke again, "I _am_ laughing at you. I'm laughing
because while you're whining about how your life is horrible and
tragic and it's your worst day ever, all I can think of is that your
life must have been pretty fecking charmed." She purposefully made her
voice as taunting and crude as she could. "She was the first one you
dipped your wick in, wasn't she? Well, seeing as how you're quitting,
then you can just think of dragonriders swooping in and spreading her
legs instead of you. Spending the night with her, probably forgetting
her the next day because, "she made a tsking sound with her tongue,
"you don't love her enough to get angry enough to change it."

His body stiffened under her and there was an unfamiliar edge to his
voice as he spoke. "Leave her out of this. You can say what you want
about me, but leave her alone." He gritted his teeth as her knee pressed
into his back. He caught sight of the hammer, lying a few paces away.
Out of reach, but if he could just get closer...

"Why should I?" **There it is, Lorican. Get angry. Get angry enough to
act. ** Lusilk kept her knee firmly against him. He was strong enough
to throw her much lighter weight off, if he actually tried, but right
now, he still was too defeated. So, she flicked his ear
contemptuously. "It's not like you're going to stop me now are you?"

"Ow!" He felt the heat growing in his belly, and despite the deeply
ingrained instincts that warned him to suppress it he felt the edges of
his control fraying. She was toying with him, not even bothering to
treat him like a man. He tasted dust in his mouth. "I'll stop you...if
you just...get off!"

"Make." Flick, "me." She flicked the other ear for good measure.

"I _can't_! I'm just a smith! Not a guard, or a bandit or a hired killer
or - whatever you are." His voice rose and he struggled, trying to shake
her off. He was angry - no, furious - with her, with his brother for
starting all this, with the man who pursued him and those who'd hired
him and most of all, with himself for being so monumentally stupid as to
read those wretched letters. "I'm not cut out for this! I never was!"

"Hm...and I think the man coming for you will think the same.
Predictable Lorican, nice Lorican." She flicked his ear. "Can't fight
back, just a Smith. Poor little Lorican, on the run and just waiting
to be picked off like a overripe red fruit tree." When he struggled,
she allowed him to knock her off, faking a stumble back.

A jolt of recognition shot through him. He remembered that mocking voice
from the burning smithy, when she'd attacked him, would have left him to
die, horribly. He'd dreamed of it - still did. His heart pounding, he
scrambled to his feet, his fingers grasping the hammer as he turned to
face her with a snarl. "Come on, then! If I'm so bloody weak and
defenseless, how come you didn't manage to kill me back at Rocky Bay?
You're supposed to be so _expensive_." He took a pace forward, swinging
the hammer to force her back. "Maybe you're not as good as you think you
are. Maybe your scarred friend isn't either."

**Finally, there it is.** Lusilk leaned back to avoid the blow,
ducking under it. "You got lucky, Lorican." She smirked, egging him
on. Another swing her way was blocked by her dagger, but his strength
made the contact send shivers along her arm. Instead of continuing to
move back, she engaged him in a quicker version of the sparring they'd
practiced, trying to force his hammer higher with quick lunges towards
his face.**Lets see how much you've learned...**

Lorican's face set in grim determination as he focused on blocking each
of her attacks, his eyes tracking the flash of her blade. "Lucky? You
screwed up. Couldn't even kill an unsuspecting craftsman." He couldn't
tell what she was up to, but he knew he didn't want to let her do it.
This wasn't going to end like it always did, with her knife at his
throat. **Predictable, am I?** He made as if to swing the hammer down at
the side of her head, then changed course and swept it across his body
and back around to her side.

Though she didn't show it, Lusilk was both pleased with his
determination and his growing skill. This had been what she wanted to
see, that he had learned enough to surprise Varlin when he came.
Though she hoped that Lorican would never have to face him, at least
if he did, he'd have a slim chance of surviving. Slim, but it was more
than had when they'd first started. And it meant Silgan had a better
chance too.

When Lorican shifted his position and swept the hammer across, instead
of at her head, it was only her reflexes that saved her from a killing
blow, dodging back to avoid the full strength of the strike. As it
was, the blow glanced across her ribs, making her grunt with pain. It
wasn't enough to break them, but the bruise would be ugly. She
shifted, grabbing his wrist and used his momentum to swing him away
and throw him off balance.

Instead of leaping on his back as she could have, she stepped back and
sheathed her dagger, one hand to her side. "Good job. You earn nothing
by giving up." Her voice was surprisingly soft, but remained firm.
"Keep that anger, Lorican. You may need it and it might just save your
life. Maybe he'll will make the same mistake as I did and
underestimate you if he gets past me. If he doesn't, then I promise
you, I'll find the one hunting you and you can return to your woman.
Faranth knows you've earned it. You give up, and I can't promise
that."

Lorican had turned to face her, breathing hard from the effort of the
fight, wary and half-expecting her knife in his back. At her words, the
tension in his body released slightly, though he didn't let the hammer
fall. He'd not lost control of his temper like that in a long time, not
since before he'd gone to the Hall, and the warmth he felt, deep inside,
almost frightened him. Still, for the first time since he'd returned
from Dolphin Cove, he felt hope.

"I won't give up." He remembered his own promise, about her son. Shells,
he'd forgotten that. No wonder she'd been angry. "And I'll protect the
little lad, like I said, as best I can. I'm sor..." Just in time, he
remembered her rule about apologizing. "Uh, never mind. I won't forget
again."

"See that you don't." She nodded. "Now put that away. I think you've
proven yourself enough for one night." Rubbing her ribs, Lusilk pushed
her hair from her face. "Go take a bath. Get something to eat.
Faranth, go get drunk, find a woman and bed her until you're good and
senseless. But do something to fecking relax and refocus so we can
both get through this."

"Right." Lorican looked down at his tunic, crumpled and grimy from being
rolled on the ground and with a large rent in the front where she'd
slashed him. He could only imagine what people would think when they saw
him emerging from the wood with Lusilk looking as he did. But he did need to
bathe, and then, perhaps, spend some time with his fellow crafters.
Their company would be the best way to recover his spirits, even if he
had to endure the inevitable teasing.

Last updated on the February 1st 2020

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Unconventional Pep Talk