Only Half the Blame

Writers: Aaron, Corrin
Date Posted: 15th September 2025

Characters: Vianne, T'gyros
Description: Vianne wakes up somewhere unexpected and comes to a horrific realization.
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 10, day 16 of Turn 12

The sun had yet to fully break over the horizon when Vianne woke. Had she been dreaming? She was not sure where she was or where she had been, but she could have sworn...

But no, it had to have been a dream. It was a bad dream. The Hatching had not happened yet. The babies had not all forsaken her. And that monster had not truly taken away her husband. No, Ilthralos was right next to her. Ithianne was in the other room.

Vianne breathed a sigh of relief and slowly pulled herself out of bedâ€"

--only to promptly strike her toe on something hard. She let out a pained squeak and sat back down heavily onto the bed. What in the fire was in the middle of the walkway?

The mound of furs beside her stirred at the noise and a sun-bronzed arm slipped around her waist to pull her back down into the bed, into the arms of-- T'gyros. The bright, golden man from the party last night-- not her dimpled, boyish husband of nearly three Turns. His blond hair was tousled, his chest was bare and warm. He grinned at her drowsily, "Are you picking fights with my furniture?"

Vianne recoiled. She rolled away and stood again, her hands covering her mouth. No. No, this could not be real, this could not be happening. She remembered talking to this man at the party, but...

Shells, he was beautiful.

And that made it all the worse!

If she was waking up here, that meant that not only had she surely... _slept_ with this man, she had also left Ilthralos -- or whatever that monster had decided to call him now -- alone at the Hatching feast, where she had promised to meet him.

"Please tell me we didn't..."

T'gyros raised a brow. "Well. I can't say that's the most flattering reaction I've ever received," he drawled and stretched. The furs slipped. It wasn't just his chest that was bare. "And we did, for quite a while actually. You said something about wanting me to make you a star? I took that as a challenge. I thought I succeeded. You seemed very... pleased."

"Oh, no... no, no, no..." The tears came unbidden. She had done this horrible thing to her long-suffering husband, and she did not even have the consolation of a good time. She could not remember it, no matter how hard she tried. And it certainly looked like it would have been a good time.

"Oh, no." Her tone changed. This was a different sort of oh, no. As quickly as she could, Vianne ran for something, anything to vomit into that would keep her from having to clean it up off the floor.

T'gyros blinked, his cocky smirk slowly fading as he took in her tears, her crushed expression. _Definitely_ not the reaction he'd been expecting. Wrapping a fur around his waist he swung out of bed to follow her as she ran for his wicker laundry basket. "No, not--"

One emptied stomach later, Vianne sobbed, "I'm sorry, I thought it was a trash bin. I'll get everything washed up. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do this." Of course, it was not just the soiled clothing she was talking about. If only there were some way for her to just travel back to the night before and go to the feast. She could pretend none of this ever happened.

Sighing, T'gyros crouched beside her and did his best to pat her back in what he hoped was a comforting manner. "It's fine. It was dirty anyway," he assured her. "Take a moment and catch your breath. Then maybe you can tell me what you _did_ mean to do, because I didn't exactly throw you over my dragon to get you back here. You practically leapt on. What happened to all the talk about suns and stars? What happened to the Vianne that was with me last night?"

"I don't even remember being her," she wailed. She was never going to touch a single drop of alcohol again for the rest of her life. "I never should have drunk that rum. I was supposed to meet my _husband_ at the feast last night! He Impressed a horrid little beast at the Hatching that was supposed to be for me, but not one of them even looked at me! They climbed into the Stands to get him, and they didn't even know I was there!" Tears ran down her face, and she had to stop to hiccup or sob every few words.

"And now I've... I've... What will he say when he finds out where I was? Why I didn't come when I said I would?" She had already promised they would go out together the last time she had gotten drunk and forgotten about him. And this was a hundred-- a thousand times worse than that.

"_Husband_!" T'gyros echoed in shock. "You're _married_!?"

He had _not_ expected to find a married woman among Cirina's candidate friends, who would? It was like it was hold gather or anything. He was so surprised that it took a moment for it to sink in that he actually knew her spouse. Sort of. The only stands Impression had been the young man he'd the misfortune of sitting next to. Which meant Vianne had a child as well as a husband. Wasn't that a big deal in Holder World?

He sat back on his heels, the fur slipping a little around the vee of his waist, but that wasn't hardly important now. "Well, I won't lie. This is a flaming mess and I'm sorry for my part in it. I thought you just needed to work off some post-hatching frustration. ...If it helps, my lips are sealed. Your husband won't hear a word about this from me." But he couldn't promise anything for the party go-ers that saw her leave with him.

"This isn't your fault." Vianne wiped her eyes (and nose) with her sleeve. This was all her fault. Well, half her fault, anyway. The rest of the blame belonged to Injustith. If that monster had never claimed her husband, she never would have gone to that party. They would have gone straight to the feast together.

It was tempting to try to pretend it never happened. But if she had jumped onto this man's dragon, there was a strong possibility that everyone had seen her go, and she could not possibly expect them to keep this a secret for her. And one of them was bound to tell her husband. The only thing worse than having done this would be if she tried to lie about it.

"I have to tell him." Just saying it aloud sent a shiver of panic through her, and she started weeping all over again.

"Yeah, you probably do..." T'gyros exhaled slowly, more a sigh than anything. He didn't try to outright stop her tears -- Faranth knew it rarely worked with his sisters -- but he did shift to wrap his fur around her shoulders and lend her its comforting weight. He sat there for a good while next to her, just rubbing her back if she allowed it.

Only when her crying had calmed somewhat did he finally venture to speak again. "Look. He's a new weyrling. For the next few days he'll mostly be caring for his new dragon, eating and sleeping. Lots of sleeping. There's no immediate rush. Don't go to him all frantic. Take some time to get your head straight. Then talk to him."

"All the while, he'll have to go on wondering why I stood him up. I'm sure that monster is already telling him what horrible things I must have done," Vianne spat. Of course, she _had_ done horrible things. But that was beside the point. "I'll... I'll ask R'lor. He'll know the best way..."

T'gyros wasn't sure what the weyrlingmaster would know about handling messy hold matters like marriages and suchlike, but he supposed it was more than _he_ knew. And the man should at least know about a good way to safely approach the new weyrling with bad news. "Yeah, ask R'lor," said T'gyros, relieved that this tricky problem wouldn't be his burden at any rate. The 'Master could handle that, as well as the woman's vitriol towards the dragonet. Never had T'gyros been happier to be just a wingrider.

"Come on," he said, bumping her shoulder gently with his. "I have a wash basin you can use to freshen up. You'll feel better after, I promise."

"I highly doubt it..." Vianne sighed, but he was right. She needed a bit of a freshen up. If she was about to have to do the world's gnarliest walk of shame, she could at the very least do it without any vomit on her face.

Last updated on the September 18th 2025

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Only Half the Blame