What I Mean To Say

Writers: Leigh M-F.
Date Posted: 20th May 2015

Characters: A'kua
Description: Maybe one day he'll be able to explain how he managed to create a subconscious echo that's smarter than he is.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 12, day 24 of Turn 7
Notes: Mentioned: Nokala, Ilyssia, Ninaine, Saibra.
Note: Ilyssia's actions mentioned with permission.

The leaves were coming down in shades of red, brown, gold, and papery
grayish-white. They coated the ground in thick, erratic blankets. He was
going to have his work cut out for him come time to clear out the yard.

"So what's the plan, dahlin'?" that familiar, lovely voice asked.

Aluka turned away from the window, absently noticing he was back at the
cottage he had wasted sixteen Turns of his life in, sitting at the kitchen
table with a mug of hot tea between his hands. Shastia was on the other
side of the table, holding her favorite drinking cup. "Really, Ma?" he
sighed. "Must ya?"

"Huh?" The red-haired woman blinked at him for a second, then caught on.
"Oh, sorry dahlin'." The goblet became another mug of tea, and she sipped
from it. "Y'do have a plan, doncha?" At her son's blank look, Shastia
elaborated, "Y'did make a promise to yer sweet li'l friend."

"For once, I think I might break a promise," Aluka muttered, having a sip
of his own tea. It tasted faintly of lavender and mint. "I can't do it, Ma.
I'm far from weyrmate material, and I don't want to ruin our friendship if
it all goes to rubbish. Not to mention there's no indication that Lys
actually wants to-"

"But she's flirted with ya recently when y'haven' been avoidin' her, hasn'
she?"

The young man shifted uncomfortably. "Well, aye," he admitted. "But that-
it-"

"Dahlin', I know how good y'are at readin' people," Shastia interrupted
again. "All those times ya came home with small goods won from card games
proves it. Whatcha really mean is 'I don' wanna let myself believe she's
int'rested.'"

Why hadn't she ever been so observant in the past? Aluka had another
awkward drink of tea. "Well, I initially let myself believe Bailan wanted
me for reasons other than sex, and we know how that turned out," he
grumbled.

"How'd ya find out what she wanted, anyway?"

Aluka laughed darkly. "I fardlin' asked her to marry me."

"Well, Ilyssia isn' that cruel, cheeky girl," Shastia stated. "Y'really
gotta stop comparin' women to me or her."

"I don't compare Ninaine or Nokala to either of ya," Aluka parried.

"True 'nuff." The woman had more tea herself. "So why aren'cha weyrmate
material?"

Aluka waved a hand at the scenery outside the window. "Just look at where I
came from. What could I possibly offer someone as wonderful as Lys? I ran
away, Ma, tried to make myself better, tried to distance myself from this
place, but everythin' I grew up with is always goin' to be part of me. I'll
always have doubts, and fears that somehow I'll wind up like my stupid
whorin' sire."

Shastia lowered her mug and looked her son dead in the eyes. "Well, I'd say
y'already have."

Aluka slammed his mug down and lunged to his feet, knocking over his chair
as a red haze bled across his vision. "HOW DARE Y-"

Shastia calmly raised an eyebrow at him and said one word: "Saibra."

The fury died swiftly and was replaced with shame. No matter that their
beach trip had only resulted in far too flirtatious touching, he and the
Weyrwoman had indeed used each other like he and Bailan had, and he'd let
it happen in a horribly misguided attempt to convince himself he wanted
someone and something other than Lys. Aluka felt very small as he righted
the chair and cleaned up the tea he had spilled. "Sometimes I really hate
ya, Ma," he mumbled after he sat down again.

"I know," the woman nonchalantly replied.

"I still don't know if I love her romantically," Aluka sighed. "I can't ask
Lys to be my lover or weyrmate or whatever if I don't know. That's not fair
to her."

"Didn'cha think y'could fall for her when y'first met her?" Shastia
returned.

Jolted, the Candidate realized she was right. It had been a passing
thought, quickly forgotten in the face of his friendship with Lys. But he
had indeed thought it.

"Y'could try it. Let ev'erthang y'feel grow, see what happens. Y'could wind
up lovin' her for real," Shastia suggested. "Just take the chance, dahlin'.
I never took that chance with my fiancé, and I regretted it for the rest o'
mah life."

"And as a result, my own life was horrible for sixteen Turns," Aluka
muttered.

"I regretted that, too," Shastia commented. "Look, I'd like ya t' do
somfin' for me."

Aluka gave her a black look. "Didn't I do enough for ya?"

"It's jus' a thought exercise. Close yer eyes. G'won, close 'em," Shastia
coaxed, and waited until she was obeyed. "Imagine there's been a horr'ble
accident. Y'were trapped under rocks in an earthquake at the Weyr. Yer left
arm was crushed and yer throat damaged, so y'can no longer play or sing, or
even be fit for Impression." She watched him cringe at the thought. "Next,
imagine yer Lys jus' told ya she's in love with someone else."

The mug shattered under Aluka's fingers, and his eyes flew open as the
remainder of hot tea splashed all over his hands.

Shastia smirked at him. "Now tell me: Which hurts worse?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Aluka woke up with his heart pounding, breath catching in his throat, and
he scrambled out of bed, falling to his knees beside it in the tangle of
his quilt as he frantically fished out his sack of belongings and fumbled
out the composition book. Even if it was just a dream, his mother was
right. He somehow managed to find the light switch and turned it on, glad
his roommates were still asleep, and sat at his desk still swathed in the
quilt. A random charcoal stick was grabbed, the book flipped open to one of
the last blank pages, and he got to work.

**Can you hear me calling out your name?
Because I'm falling, and I don't know what to say.
I'll talk a little louder; I'll even shout
Because I'm proud, and I can't get the words out.
Oh, I,
I wanna be with you everywhere-**

No, no. It had some truth in it, but it wasn't good enough. Aluka sanded
the words out and tried again after some thought.

**Darlin', I don't understand
Why we can't just hold on to each other's hands.
This time might be the last, I fear,
Unless I make it all too clear
I need you so-**

No, that didn't work either. Too melancholy. Lys made him happy.

**Here I am, in the wrong bed again;
It's a game I just can't win.
There you are, breathin' soft on my skin;
Still you won't let me in.
Why save your kisses for a rainy day?
Darlin', let the moment take your heart away

Have you ever needed someone so bad?
Have you ever wanted someone you just couldn't have?
Did you ever try so hard that your world just fell apart?
Have you ever needed someone so bad?
And to the one I gotta have,
I gotta have you-**

No, no, no, damn it! He wanted all of Lys, not just her body. Aluka growled
and nearly threw his composition book across the room. How could he
properly express how much he wanted her love, her respect, her trust, her
acceptance?

Acceptance....

Aluka slowly sanded off the page, sharpened the charcoal stick, sketched
out another score chart, and started writing again. This time, he got
everything just right. Now he needed to practice and find the right time to
use this new song. He put the book away and untangled himself from the
quilt to grab some clothes. After he had a bath, he also needed to speak
with a weyrlingmaster.

Last updated on the May 21st 2015

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What I Mean To Say