Not Me
Dragonsfall Weyr
Amber Hills Hold
Vintner Hall
Hidden Meadows
Dolphin Cove Weyr
Dolphin Hall
Emerald Falls Hold
Harper Hall
Printer Hall
Green Valley Hold
Leeward Lagoon Hold
Barrier Lake Weyrhold
Sunstone Seahold
Citrus Bay Hold
Elsewhere on Pern
NPC Weyr (NPC)
River Bluff Weyr
Seacraft Hall
Writers: Sia
Date Posted: 19th November 2024
Characters: Varethos
Description: Varethos does not Impress
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 3, day 22 of Turn 12
Notes: Mentioned: C'uren, S'rin, Zaphare, T'mhas, M'thos
Varethos was an expert at hatchings by now. He'd stood at every single Dragonsfall clutch since he'd turned twelve, when his siblings were still too young and overly jealous of the move to the barracks. But now, at freshly nineteen, the edge of desperation was starting to form in the corners of his mind, despite how nonchalant he was with Zaphare and Syerin. His robe was expertly stitched, and a few turns of idleness had given it a rather nice embroidery pattern along the hem.
He tried to focus on the joy of it, though he didn't have much choice with Ceauren at his elbow shouting congratulations at people that couldn't hear him over the noise. He tried to keep an eye on Merhaskel and Lemhask in the crowd of candidates, and his voice cracked as he and Ceauren shouted their congratulations as Merhaskel Impressed a perfect little blue. He looked up to the Stands, searching for T'mhas, the bulk of him and the emptiness of the seats around him easy to spot as he hollered something to the man next to him. M'thos was somewhere behind him and he didn't dare turn away to look.
Zaphare Impressed next, and Varethos erupted in even more hollers when Ceauren pointed her out. He could have bet marks that she would have been another bluerider, had he had any.
Merhaskel deserved this. Zaphare deserved this. They deserved every happiness the Weyr could offer. Varethos wanted to be nothing but proud.
And yet.
Every time another dragon passed him by, it was another layer of hurt pressed into his chest. **Why not me?** He wondered silently, his thoughts spiraling despite his best efforts to wrestle them back into place. He was not entitled to a dragon, he knew that. The dragons chose whom they chose, and no one knew for sure what they sought. But knowing that didn't make the ache any less.
“Look, Varethos, that one is looking at you!” Ceauren’s bright voice cut through his haze, and he startled. His gaze snapped to the brown hatchling lumbering toward him, eyes whirling with curious shades of green and blue.
A spark of hope flared.
The brown stopped before him, tilting its head as though weighing something unseen. Varethos froze, not daring to breathe. This was it. This was his moment. He felt it in the way time seemed to narrow, the entire world shrinking to just him and the dragonet. He imagined it now: the voice would come, calling his name, anchoring him to something greater than himself.
But the voice didn’t come.
The hatchling nudged him aside with a gentle, almost apologetic push and turned its gaze to Ceauren.
Varethos stood frozen, his arms falling limply to his sides as Ceauren gasped, his joy radiant and immediate.
“Me?” Ceauren asked, his voice rising in astonished delight. And then, as though he had always known it would be so, Ceauren’s expression lit up like the sun breaking through storm clouds. “Me! Oh, Roeth, you’re perfect!”
The bond was unmistakable, the lightness and warmth of Impression radiating from them like a beacon. Ceauren was already leading the dragonet away, chattering happily about food and introductions, his grin wide enough to rival the horizon.
Varethos turned away. His heart felt heavy, leaden, as if Roeth’s gentle nudge had cleaved something vital within him. He wanted to smile, to share in Ceauren’s joy, but the lump in his throat refused to budge.
He clapped woodenly, forcing his hands together in a mockery of celebration. Around him, the Hatching continued, but it felt distant now, a blur of noise and movement that he couldn’t fully register.
He didn't look up to see his father or mother in the Stands, nor turn to his father who was hopefully too busy with the newly Impressed to notice what could've been. He didn’t want reassurances. He wanted Roeth, or any dragon, to choose him.
But they hadn’t.
Last updated on the November 19th 2024