I'm Sorry, Don't Tell

Writers: Estelle, Miriah
Date Posted: 3rd November 2020

Characters: Aviday, R'fal
Description: In the aftermath of Kobeth's flight, Aviday pleads with R'fal to keep her secret
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 6, day 28 of Turn 10

Aviday

Aviday came back to herself far quicker than the man who had rolled
off of her. She had come back to herself at the burning pain and had
only through sheer force of will shuttered it from Kobeth as her
dragon reached the heights of pleasure. It had hurt more than she
thought it could. She felt battered, bruised and it felt as though
she'd been torn right up the middle. She squeezed her eyes shut and
rolled over, cupping herself under the sheets as if that would help
the rawness that she felt.

Feeling the stickiness of blood and other fluids, she bit back a
whimper and curled up slowly, inhaling and exhaling slowly as she
hoped the pain would fade soon. She also hoped who'd ever won her
flight wouldn't notice. Maybe they'd go away. She knew some riders
did.

The young brownrider who lay beside her breathed slowly as he returned
to himself, feeling the dampness of his skin, the tangled sheets around
him, the shape of his own body, separate from his dragon's. He'd already
known what it was to be with Marlath as he flew, the rush of air over
his hide, the pull of muscles in his wings, but he'd never lost himself
to the intensity of his dragon's sensations like that before, never felt
the soft body of the rider yielding to him...

His eyes opened and he sat up with a gasp, memories returning.
**Kobeth.** Did he know her rider? He wasn't sure. Not a wingmate, then.
He thought he remembered a small figure, and clear blue eyes. A girl...
Trying to remember how he was meant to behave, he turned, looked down at
the shape beside him. "Uh... Hello?"

The voice sounded young and Aviday stilled, wondering what to say. Her
mother had always claimed flights were wonderful and grand, but like
many things, her mother had been so very wrong. A bit of wetness
leaked out of her eyelids. It had been her fault. She should have done
something before now, but she'd just...tried not to think about it. It
wasn't his fault. So, she quickly wiped her eyes and did what she'd
been taught. "Hello." Her voice felt very small as she said what she
knew she was supposed to. "Thank you for the flight."

She finally moved to look over her shoulder. She recognized the young
rider, who looked only a bit older than her. He'd been in the weyrling
class before her. R'fal, she thought his name was. She'd never spoken
to him. She offered an attempt at a smile.Faranth, what if he was like
some riders who wanted more after? Her mother raved about them and how
great it was. She didn't think her body could bear it and she
certainly didn't feel like she ever wanted to do this sort of thing
again. It was awful. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to."

"Oh. I..." R'fal could tell at once that she was miserable and he stared
down at the sheets, crestfallen. Had she hoped it would be someone else?
Someone from her weyrling class, or one of the bronzeriders, perhaps,
tall and handsome and charming, knowing how to delight a girl. Not some
nobody farm boy. "Of course. Thank you. I'll go, if you want."

He started to slide out of the bed, then stilled, breathing in. There
was a faint metallic scent in the air. Blood? A sudden, icy chill
gripped at his heart. "Are you - " He leaned closer. "Are you all right?"

She was relieved that he'd agreed to go and she relaxed a bit, but
when he went still, she did as well. When R'fal leaned closer, she
immediately cringed, but managed to stop herself from jerking away
from him. Instead, she quickly responded, "I'm fine! Really I'm fine!
It's nothing. Nothing at all." Her voice raised in pitch, her words
rushed. "I just need to get dressed. That's all." She sat up, a bit
too quickly, and grimaced at the jolt of hurt, half bending over as
she clutched the sheets to herself. "Uhm...where are my pants?"

R'fal couldn't miss the way she moved, nor the glimpse of a dark stain
on the sheet as she pulled it around her. "Oh - shards - you're
bleeding!" What had he done? His heart began to race in sheer panic as
his mind ran over the confused memories of the flight. How he'd carried
her here, Marlath's lust and triumph burning through his veins like
dragonfire, the urgent desire to feel her bare skin, to claim her as
his... He must have done something wrong. This was nothing like what
they'd been taught to expect. He rose, searching frantically for his
clothes. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Don't move. I'll get a Healer.
They'll help you."

"No!" Aviday's objection was immediate and almost as panicked as
R'fal's. "Don't!" She didn't want the Healers or Weyrstaff to know she
hadn't taken care of things before hand like she'd claimed. "Please!"
She clutched wildly at the sheets, trying to cover up the stain. "It's
not your fault!" Then she did burst into tears, the residual pain and
panic of the situation overwhelming her. "I... I've never done it
before! They can't know! Please!"

He'd managed to struggle into his trousers and was halfway to the door
before her words sunk in and he turned to look at her. R'fal hadn't
realized until now how young she looked. She hardly seemed old enough to
leave harper classes, let alone to have her dragon rise to mate. His
remorse and dread only deepened. Even with Marlath's emotions urging him
on, how could he have hurt her like that?

Reaching down, he picked up a shirt from the floor and approached
cautiously, crouching down before the bed. "It's all right. Here..." He
offered it to her. "I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to. I
promise. But if you're hurt, maybe you should see a Healer? I don't
think they'd tell the Weyrlingmaster, if you asked them not to."

Aviday hurriedly wiped at her eyes, taking quick, indrawn breaths as
she struggled to control her breathing. "I'm sorry. I'm really really
sorry. It's really not your fault. You didn't know." She quickly took
the shirt, then dropped the sheet, hurriedly putting it on to cover
the meager assets that she had. She shook her head, eyes pleading with
him. "No. I can't. They'll tell. They'd have to tell and then I'll get
in trouble. I was supposed to...before this. And I didn't. " She wiped
at her eyes again, but she still hurt everywhere. "It's all my fault."

She stopped and looked down. "This is your shirt." It was huge on her,
but for some reason, she was glad. It would cover everything she
wanted covered. Her lower lip trembled as she sniffled and still gave
stuttering short breaths through her remaining tears. "You gave me
your shirt. It's big. Thanks." She rose, the shirt falling nearly to
her middle thighs, but grimaced as she stood up. "I'll be okay. I
promise. Just don't tell. I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry."

"No - it's all right. Really. You don't have to be sorry. You're not the
one who..." He started to reach out, to touch her arm in comfort, then
held back. She seemed to want him gone, which wasn't surprising, and yet
he could see very clearly that it would be wrong to leave her like this,
to go on with his day as if nothing had happened. No healer would do that.

"I don't think it's not as simple as they make it out in the classes, to
go out and find someone. Even here in the Weyr. When I came here from
the cothold, everyone else seemed to know what to do, how to talk about
it, how to ask..." His voice trailed off. Almost since his graduation to
senior weyrling he'd had other things on his mind, but that was just an
excuse. He swallowed. "I hadn't...either. Maybe if I had, it would have
been better for you. If anyone gets in trouble, it should be me."

"it's not. I tried, but..." Aviday agreed, still sniffling and not
wanting to go into the fact that she simply wasn't attractive to men.
That should have been obvious to him. "I just wanted to forget about
it." She was sorry now that she did. She looked up at him, eyes on his
face. It was his first time too? Faranth, they'd both messed up. They
could both get in trouble. "I think that maybe we should just agree
not to tell anyone so neither of us gets in trouble." It was horrible
for both of them. She'd messed up even by more ruining his first
flight too. But wasn't it easier for boys? She didn't know because
looked really upset too.

"It wasn't gonna be good for me no matter who did it." She wiped at
her face. "You just caught. I'll just get some numbweed or something.
I think I've got some in my weyr. They said that maybe it could help
and I can put...you know, up there. " And then she'd take the hottest
bath that she could and try to forget this whole thing had happened.
But the thought of ever doing this again made her stomach roil with
upset.

R'fal chewed his lower lip, uncertain of whether or not treating
yourself that way was a good idea. Perhaps it was something that girls
knew about? He wasn't sure which way to turn. His conscience told him
that it was better to confess, but then he'd get her into trouble too,
and with his record, he could only imagine what they'd do to him. What
if he was kicked out of the dragonhealers' class, or sent back to the
weyrling wing? Even worse would be the shame, of everyone knowing what
he'd done. If they didn't already despise him for having had a father in
prison, they surely would for this. The temptation to keep quiet was
very strong.

"All right," he said, reluctantly. "But only if you promise that you'll
go to the Infirmary if you don't feel better by tomorrow. I mean it.
I'll get Marlath to check."

Aviday nodded quickly. Surely she'd feel better tomorrow. "Okay. I
promise as long as you promise not to tell." She tugged at his shirt
and looked around for her trousers. She didn't know where her shirt
was or what had happened to it, but didn't want to leave without her
trousers either. She found the leg of them sticking out from the
bottom of the flight cot and slowly pulled them out with her toe. Then
she blinked. The ties had been ripped out. She slowly looked up at
R'fal and with surprising dexterity, picked them up with her toes just
enough to reach them without bending too much. "I'm...I'm just gonna
go, okay?"

R'fal realised he was staring and felt his cheeks grow hot. Had he done
that? Shards, he didn't want to know what he'd done to her shirt. "Oh -
uh, all right. I'll go first. You can stay as long as you need." He
started for the door, then hesitated with his hand on the doorknob. "I
don't know your name. I'm R'fal...of Rapids Wing. In case you need
anything. My dragon is Marlath."

She held the trousers in front of herself as he paused at the door.
She twisted them in her hands and nodded. "Thanks. I'm...I'm Aviday.
I'm a Senior Weyrling." She shifted from foot to foot. "I'll be okay."
She looked down at her hands and hoped that she wasn't lying to him.
**'Cause there's no way I'm gonna go to the infirmary."

"Right. Well. I'll go," he said, awkwardly. "I hope you feel better. And
don't forget. You promised." Then he opened the door and slipped out,
his furtive movements more like those of a guilty thief than the winner
of a flight.

**I crossed my fingers. So, that promise doesn't count. ** She thought
that her fingers had been crossed at some point. Even so, she wasn't
planning on telling anyone. Ever. Gingerly, Aviday carefully pulled on
the trousers, gripping them at the middle to keep them up. Moving
carefully, she waited until she was sure he was gone, then slipped out
of the flight room. All she wanted to do was go to the baths and then go
to bed to have a good cry.

"Avi!!!"

Her mother's loud voice interrupted her sneak. She should have known
that she'd be waiting. And now there was no way she could run.

Last updated on the November 5th 2020

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I'm Sorry, Don't Tell