Needing a Little Help
Dragonsfall Weyr
Amber Hills Hold
Vintner Hall
Healer Hall
Hidden Meadows
Dolphin Cove Weyr
Dolphin Hall
Emerald Falls Hold
Harper Hall
Printer Hall
Green Valley Hold
Leeward Lagoon Hold
Barrier Lake Weyr
Sunstone Seahold
Citrus Bay Hold
Writers: Heather, Noli
Date Posted: 30th May 2025
Characters: Aynia, Rasme
Description: Rasme and Aynia end up at the same table after Threadfall.
Location: Barrier Lake Weyr
Date: month 7, day 3 of Turn 12
Aynia shuffled slowly into the great dining cavern, wincing slightly with each careful placement of her right foot in her forward journey towards the klah that, currently, was her foremost concern. Her ankle was swelled painfully against her riding boot, and despite the wrap that the Healing staff had so aptly used to support it, Aynia still felt considerable pain when she attempted to walk too quickly across the gently tilting floor. And so she resigned herself to her almost infuriatingly slow progress, traversing the dragonlengths at less than half the rate which she normally took the familiar pathway from her weyr to the kitchens. It will be worth it, she promised herself. All I need is some good strong klah. Some klah, and somewhere to sit down and rest her throbbing ankle.
Finally obtaining her prize, Aynia clutched her mug gratefully to her breast and looked around for the closest seating to her current position. Settling onto a bench, she took a long, uncharacteristically graceless drag from her drink and mentally searched for Nalath, ensuring that the tired green was still resting comfortably where Aynia had left her in their weyr. Satisfied that her love was none the worse for the Fall that they had finally finished combatting a few short candlemarks ago, Aynia slumped slightly in her seat. She was tired-- and not just from the physical exertion that always accompanied fighting Thread, nor from the slow trek on her injured ankle. No, this tired was deeper. She had fought hard all day to keep the thoughts at bay, and it had taken its toll. Now, she was unable to fight them memory. One Turn ago today... closing her eyes briefly, she touched her flat stomach carefully, an pang in her heart far more painful than her swollen foot lancing through her as she remembered the previous roundness and her hopes for the new life that had once resided there.
Letting out a long, weary sigh, she took another sip from her klah. Glancing around, she was startled to notice for the first time that she wasn't alone.
"I didn't want to disturb you. Don't mind me," Rasme said as she felt Aynia finally realize that she too was sitting on the bench. The retired goldrider's tunic sleeves were rolled up to her elbows and the scent of redwort and numbweed still clung to her. She'd remembered to leave her stained apron back at the dragon infirmary, at least. in her cup was something stronger than klah, some stout ale. "Did you do that during 'fall?" she asked, motioning to Aynia's obviously swollen ankle.
Aynia gave the goldrider a respectful headtilt and a polite smile. "Rasme. I trust we kept you and Piketh busy this Fall." She glanced at her ankle, whose pain was finally subsiding with the rest and the rejuvenating effects of the klah.
"Not... exactly." She searched, trying to find the right words. "I was clumsy. When Fall ended, I was a little too eager to to get down and I didn't loosen the fighting straps correctly. It jammed against Nalath's forever as she caught me from tumbling headfirst from her back." Her mind flashed back to the moment. She had been suddenly awash with abject terror, though she didn't logically understand _why_. Fall was over, she and Nalath safe. In that moment, when she should have been feeling elation and gratitude and pride, it was like... the weight of her own mortality had suddenly, inexplicably, consumed her. Shards, how stupid was that?
She gave Rasme another forced smile. "Apologies, goldrider, I know it sounds silly, but... sometimes, it's like I don't really feel like a _real_ dragonrider." She knew that the words, spoken to her aged, weyrbred comrade, were probably incomprehensible, and she felt the flush of embarrassment creeping up her face.
Rasme looked from the greenrider's ankle to her face. "Did you let a healer look at it?" She'd heard the other confession, but the dragonhealer in her thought the physical injury needed addressing first.
"Not yet," Aynia confessed. "I was rather hoping that it looked worse than it was, and that getting the weight off of it would be enough." She reached down to probe the ankle gently with her fingers, wincing at the pain that shot up her leg. She gave Rasme a rueful smile. "I guess I was wrong."
"As for feeling like a _real_ dragonrider, I'm not sure how much more real it can get. You've faced Thread up close and personal and you're sharing your mind with a dragon. How much more real can it get?" Rasme winked to soften her words... or was it just a blink? With one eye, it was hard to tell.
Aynia could not find the words to express the inner turmoil she was experiencing. How could she explain to the goldrider, who had always known weyrlife, the difficulty she was having adjusting from her holdbred upbringing? How after all these Turns, she still struggled with the idea of giving up the future she had planned as a child-- of marriage and children that she raised herself? How could she articulate the feeling of being a stranger here, with only Nalath to anchor her?
In the end, she decided that she couldn't. And really, Rasme was right. She _was_ a dragonrider. The moment that Nalath had chosen her, Aynia's future had changed course forever. And really, she would not have chosen any differently if she could do it all again. She had been given the most wonderful gift, and the benefits outweighed the cost.
"You're right, of course, Rasme. Thank you." Aynia drained the final dredge of her klah. "I should probably see the healer. Nalath is sleeping now, but as soon as she rouses, I know she is going to make me go anyhow." Aynia thought affectionately of her lovely green dragon. She didn't want to cause her love any unnecessary distress or worry.
Rasme glanced at Aynia's ankle once more before finishing her ale and slapping the mug down on the table. "Let me help you get to the infirmary. You'll make it worse putting your weight on it," she said, standing.
Aynia looked up at the goldrider gratefully. Normally, she would have politely declined the offer of assistance. Aynia detested asking for help, and frequently found herself dealing with situations that were twice as difficult or aggravating than they needed to be because of it. But today was a strange day for her all around, and she found herself thankful for the help Rasme proffered. Her ankle really _was_ killing her.
"Thank you, Rasme. That would be most appreciated." Afterwards, Aynia would go back to mourn her loss from the privacy of her weyr, but Rasme's kind yet firm perspective had tempered the onslaught of emotions sufficiently to ensure that they would not overwhelm her again. At least not today.
Last updated on the June 8th 2025