The Morning After

Writers: Estelle
Date Posted: 16th December 2018

Characters: R'fal
Description: R'fal wakes up after the graduation party feeling rather unwell
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 6, day 15 of Turn 9

The morning after the party, R'fal woke up, and wished he hadn't.

He'd managed to get to bed somehow, at least. His limbs felt heavy,
his throat was parched, and his head burned and ached as if a harper
was pounding on a drum deep inside his skull. Was he ill? For a long,
fearful moment the boy wondered if he'd caught a fever, one of those
diseases that spread terror and sickness through the holds, and
sometimes left tragedy in their wake. Then, he recalled the party. The
drinks. And although it had been the first real Weyr party he'd ever
been to, he had heard of hangovers. Often on a restday morning, his
father would stay late in bed, in a darkened room, and his mother had
sent him to play out in the fields so he wouldn't make too much noise.

Now he understood.

**I need to get some water.** The weyrling remembered that he'd
provided jugs of juice and water for those who weren't drinking
alcohol. Maybe there'd be some left. He hoped so, anyway, because
otherwise he'd have to wake Marlath to take him down to the kitchens,
and the brown dragon was deeply asleep.

Getting up was more of a challenge than usual. Just sitting up made
his head swim and triggered an ominous, queasy feeling in his stomach.
He had to sit still and take several long, deep breaths before he
thought he could move without throwing up. Then he carefully swung his
legs over the edge of the bed, got to his feet and pushed aside the
curtain that separated his sleeping area from the main weyr.

The sight that met his eyes made him close them again, as if somehow
the destruction wrought on his weyr might not be real. R'fal had never
been a tidy boy, but months of life in the weyrling barracks had
improved his habits and he'd made a special effort to clean up for the
party. Now, the bright sunlight pouring in through the cliff entrance
fell mercilessly on scattered cups, broken plates and a large, sticky
pool from a spilled drink on the couch. The simple woven tapestry that
he'd been given from the Weyr's stores to brighten the place up lay in
a heap on the floor, as if someone had tried to steady themself on it
and pulled it down. A shirt was discarded in a corner, probably due to
the dark red wine-stain on the front, and there were boot-prints on
his desk, as if someone had trodden in the drink and then climbed on
it.

He hoped it had not been him.

Memories were starting to return. He thought the evening had started
sedately enough, with food and harper music. After the songs, there
had been dancing, and he recalled with a mixture of pleasure and
embarrassment that he'd mustered the courage to ask one of the green
weyrlings to be his dance partner, and she'd said yes. Then, another
girl had asked him to dance! The party had been going well.

Later on, as night fell and some of his younger - and more sensible -
classmates had started to return to their weyrs to sleep, one of the
other boys had suggested playing some drinking games. Just a few. It
would be fun. It had been about then that everything started getting
blurry. There had been dares, and drinking challenges. At some point,
their supply had run out, and someone had gone to get more from their
cousin who worked in the kitchens. R'fal remembered thinking that he
must have miscalculated when working how much they'd be able to get
through in one evening. Maybe he hadn't been that far wrong, after
all.

He wondered what time it was. The sun was up, but it couldn't be too
late or else Marlath would be awake and he'd be in trouble for being
late to drills. Well, he could definitely skip breakfast today, but a
bath would be a good idea. There weren't any unbroken jugs of water.
Moving slowly and cautiously, R'fal turned back to his sleeping
quarters to search for fresh clothes, and sent a tentative query to
his lifemate.

**Marlath?**

The brown dragon stirred sleepily. }:I am tired. I did not sleep well
last night.:{

The weyrling winced. **Sorry. We're not late, are we?**

}:No. I will not hunt today, so we have time...but not much.:{
Reluctantly, Marlath uncurled himself from the couch and yawned,
exposing rows of gleaming teeth.

**Can you fly me down? I need to wash...and I'm really thirsty.**
R'fal thought of how he'd heard that some senior riders had bathing
facilities in their weyrs, and even hatches to request food and drink
from the kitchens. He wished he had that privilege.

}:Of course. Do you want me to tell Nikornath you are not well?:{ the
dragon asked, concerned.

**Um, no. I don't think he'd be sympathetic.**

}:Meith's rider is not well, either.:{

**Meith?** That was T'nep's dragon. R'fal frowned. T'nep was only a
kid! How could he be... He remembered guiltily how he'd given the boy
a small drink, just to have a taste. He'd lost track of him after the
dancing, thinking he must have left and gone to bed. But what if he
hadn't? What if he had got some more? He hadn't exactly been keeping a
watch on the drinks. How much had he had? **Is his rider okay?**

There was a pause as Marlath spoke with the other dragons. }:He felt
very sick last night, but is better now.:{

**Oh.** R'fal winced. Poor T'nep. He should have said no when he'd
asked for a "special" drink, but he hadn't wanted his friend to feel
left out. Now he'd ruined the party for him. Presumably he'd managed
to get back to his own weyr somehow - or perhaps someone else had
helped him. He wished he could remember...

}:Nikornath says his rider wants to see you about it, later.:{

R'fal groaned aloud. "Oh, no!" He'd been hoping - optimistically -
that K'sedel had not found out about the party, but certain confused
memories from last night suggested otherwise. **We'd better go. Well,
I should clean myself up first.** He'd be in even worse trouble if he
reported to class looking as disheveled as he no doubt did. As for the
mess in his weyr, he would have to see to it when he got back, and
hope that the weyrlingstaff wouldn't pick today for an inspection. He
took down his riding straps, relieved that they at least had survived
the party, and hurried out onto the ledge where Marlath was waiting.
The sunlight and heat outside hit him like a blow, and he groaned
again and narrowed his eyes to slits, putting on the riding straps as
much by feel as by sight. At least he'd had a lot of practice by now.

He wondered as he climbed up to the brown dragon's back - slowly,
pausing to settle his stomach - how he was ever going to get through
this day...

Last updated on the January 29th 2019

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The Morning After