Drills

Writers: Yvonne
Date Posted: 8th April 2019

Characters: Alina, Leyhe
Description: Alina is distracted after talking to J'ackt over lunch
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 10, day 15 of Turn 9
Notes: Follows DCW: Promises
Mentioned: J'ackt, Cosani, D'hol, K'deren

Alina

Up, in threes, in nines. Green wings tearing through the clouds and water beading on goggles. /Between/ and back. Drills, ordinary drills, fly in formation and shift as dragonriders disappeared and came back. Alina usually flew with her eyes wide open as she watched the pairs around her, watching for them to slow or break formation or to make sure that they flew where they should.

But her mind kept flying back to lunch, to J'ackt's weyr and the ring. He'd asked-- what? To wake up next to her. To commit. Only not-- he'd all but said that he'd keep other women on the side. If she looked up she could see Cosani and Shalith's green belly. He was sharing her bed. His hands on her body, their skin on fire, all hungry mouths and twined legs beneath the furs. He probably told Cosani that she was beautiful, too. J'ackt said he wasn't going to change. It wasn't any different than before except that it was. Jealousy, ugly and hot, twisted in her belly. Best not to look.

Think of drills. Think of flying. Think of J'ackt, lying in the Infirmary, babbling nonsense while he was dosed up on fellis. Think of the way her heart split in two as he lay between death and life. Think of him once he was back in his weyr. The way he'd kissed her. His hands in her hair. Prove it, he'd said. And then he'd bought her a ring and asked to meet her father before she could prove anything. Was this a test? What did a ring really mean? Did it mean anything?

/Between/, a bit slow. Alina bit her lip and urged Imarith to realign as her wingmate turned to give her a blank, goggle-eyed stare for falling behind. If you fell behind, D'hol and K'deren would make their nine to do it over until she could keep up. Until you were good enough. **Am I good enough?**

Fly further, Imarith's wings stirring the thick, humid air. Go /between/, drop three dragonlengths down to where the weyrlings would be delivering firestone. Catch a sack, surge toward the Red Star to meet imaginary Thread. That's what dragonriders did. Flew Thread. Hopped beds. No attachments, no commitments. It didn't mean anything. Don't lose your heart. Don't lose your head. That was for holders, slow and stupid and earthbound.

/Between/ again - too slow again. **Pay attention!** Alina hoped that nobody noticed as Imarith realigned. Two sets of helmeted heads turned to look at her this time. She was messing up the drill.

}:You are thinking of Zith's rider, not Thread,:{ Imarith admonished gently. }:We must fly and think of Thread.:{

**Yes,** she agreed absently. They were off in the air-- too far to the north, about to climb too high, too fast. She sank into Imarith to see the skies through her dragon's eyes as they slowed for the larger dragons. Be part of their nine. Be present. Go /between/, lose altitude, throw a sack, catch a sack. Fly skyward, Imairth's jade wings carving the air as her rider crouched against her neck with a sack in hand. Imagine Thread. Imagine Thread carving through Zith, through J'ackt, through her and Imarith. The possibility hovered at the horizon.

Did it matter if J'ackt wanted a part-time love? Someone for him to return to when when she wasn't enough? Go /between/, this time with her nine. Lose altitude, toss a sack and catch one in return. She wanted someone who would look at her like she was the only woman on Pern. Like she was enough. She wanted J'ackt to look at her like that. She wanted to _be_ that. Fly skyward toward the Red Star, Imarith stretching her wings and for a moment feeling like they were being chased through the clouds.

Too fast now. Imarith slowed to let the others in her nine catch up. Three sets of goggled, helmeted riders turned their heads to stare at her, accusatory. Don't let D'hol or K'deren see. Finish the drill. Reach altitude, level out, go /between/. Part of a nine. One of many. There were so many green dragons in the sky, interchangeable. That's why the clutches were large, to fight Thread, to replace those who were lost. She was replaceable. They all were.

Did it matter? Was it better to hope for one perfect thing or settle for what was offered? Her thoughts were a jumble of J'ackt's lips and hands on her body, his words echoing in her ears. The thought of Thread, hungry for endings. Maybe she'd heard wrong. Maybe she was overthinking things. /Between/ again, throw the sack. Catch the sack. Ascend skyward, the wind rushing against her face.

And then the drill was over and they landed for a debrief. Alina tried to look as if she was paying attention but her head was in the clouds, but thankfully neither she nor her nine was called out. D'hol finished whatever he was saying and the Wing stood up to go. Alina picked up her helmet when she was poked rudely in the chest.

"Faranth's Egg, what were you thinking up there?!" Leyhe hissed at her. Another greenrider, perhaps a little older than herself. Part of her nine. She looked furious. "You cut me and Veruth off twice and are sharding lucky that you didn't get us all called back for extra drills, you dimglow! You flew like you'd never been in a Wing before, and you're sharding lucky that the rest of us covered for you. What's wrong with you?!"

"What's wrong-- what's wrong with you!" Alina hissed back. Their wingmates were leaving, going back to whatever they did when they weren't part of the Wing, leaving them alone in the Weyrbowl. "You're one to talk-- you cut me off last sevenday."

"No I didn't, but you certainly did. Get your shit together, greenrider. Next time, I'm calling you out." Leyhe scowled at Alina as she tucked her helmet under her arm. "I hope D'hol gives you latrine duties for a month. Then you'll stink as bad as you fly."

"Whatever." Alina sniffed. She hadn't done that badly, had she?

}:Today was not a good day for flying,:{ Imarith said sheepishly. }:Tomorrow will be better. You must think less of Zith's rider, and more about Thread.:{

**You're no help,** she shot back at her dragon. **What do I do, Imarith?**

}:We keep flying,:{ Imarith said confidently. }:That is the most important thing.:{

Alina sighed. Her dragon was no help at all. For all their drilling and running and throwing firestone, for all the fancy flying-- J'ackt's ring was something she hadn't been prepared for, hadn't drilled for, and now she didn't know what to do. Except keep flying.

Last updated on the April 12th 2019

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