You Had One Job

Writers: Estelle
Date Posted: 8th November 2025

Characters: L'keri, A'ten
Description: A'ten runs into his father after Galgaith clutches
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 11, day 12 of Turn 12

L'keri

A Clutching was always an opportunity for avid speculation, gossip and enthusiastic wagering at the Weyr, and the fact that it was the result of a junior gold's first flight which had ended in spectacularly disastrous fashion only heightened the interest. What did the length of the flight, or the brown sire, or the gold's inexperience mean for the size of the clutch? As the day dragged on with no word from the sands, some were starting to wonder darkly if there would be any eggs at all.

"She looked egg-heavy, didn't she?" one of the candidates down the table asked, frowning.

"Hard to tell, with the size on her." A girl snickered.

"Maybe it's not so bad if there's a smaller clutch. There's too many of those...you know." Her friend tilted her head towards the table where the holdless had gathered, wrinkling her nose. "Lessens the chance one of _them_ gets a dragon."

"I bet on thirteen. You can get good odds it'll be the lowest yet."

"Imagine if there's only one." They giggled.

A'ten kept his head down, hoping no one would notice he was there. He was tempted to leave with his dinner half-eaten, but feared he'd only draw attention to himself. As if he cared about Galgaith's stupid clutch.

He wished he'd chosen to eat somewhere else that evening. But where? He couldn't sit with his former classmates; they'd all graduated to the Wings and bonded with their new wingmates. They were real Threadfighters. Instead, he hovered around the edges of the candidate tables. Some of them he'd known from the barracks or classes with the harpers before that, but the unspoken barrier of his Impression was always there. He'd been chosen already. How could he get excited over the clutch, or speculate about what colour dragon he'd get, or what training would be like?

It wasn't fair. He was taller and stronger than some of the girls who were in Wings now. He and Corvanth could fly in formation, skip in and out of /between/, flame and catch firestone. He'd passed all the tests and done his best to be sensible and steady and act older than his Turns, hoping that just maybe, the Wingleaders would overlook his age. They were in a Pass. Every dragonrider who could fight was needed. And he _could_ fight. He didn't have to be stuck babysitting his father's clutch.

Assuming there was one, and L'keri hadn't screwed that up as well, like everything else he touched.

**Maybe if I do everything they ask, if I'm a good brownrider, then when this clutch graduates, they'll let me join them.** He'd be fifteen then. What difference would a few months make?

The other candidates started sharing gossip about one of the holdless boys, and A'ten took the opportunity to escape. He wasn't feeling particularly hungry anyway. After clearing up his tray, he headed for the exit, but it turned out he'd picked the worst possible moment to leave. He'd hardly stepped out into the chilly night air when he nearly ran into his father, coming the other way from the hatching grounds.

"A'ten!" L'keri seemed surprised to see him, and distracted. Not as much as he might have been if the clutching had been a complete disaster, though A'ten could never be quite certain with his father. "I'd been hoping I'd find you. It's good news. Fifteen eggs!"

A'ten hadn't been sure what to expect, but the number shocked him all the same. He thought of the other candidates, sniggering over the idea of a clutch of thirteen. There was no doubt about it any more. His father's clutch would be the smallest of the Pass.

"Congratulations," he said shortly, and walked on past.

For a few strides, he thought he'd got away with it, until he heard footsteps coming after him.

"A'ten, wait. I know we haven't had a chance to talk in a while. Is something wrong?"

The young brownrider stopped in his tracks. He knew he should just keep walking, take a breath, not let his anger take over. He'd done this training, knew how strong emotions could distress his dragon. But he couldn't stop himself. "Really? You really have to ask?"

Of course he did. "Is this about Galgaith's flight?"

He whipped around, confronting his father directly. "I can't believe I have to spell this out. I asked you for one thing, not to flirt with my classmates. That included having sex with them."

L'keri's expression was exactly as A'ten would have predicted. The faint line between his brows, the puzzled expression as he struggled with the concept that his choices might have affected his son. "But it was a mating flight. You know we can't help it if our dragons decide - well, perhaps you don't yet, but in a few Turns..."

He gritted his teeth. "You could have kept Rhalith out of it. Taken him out of the Weyr, like the other goldriders did. But you had to challenge the bronzeriders, prove you were better than them."

"I didn't think he would actually win! It was pure luck. How often does a brown catch a gold?"

"One just did!" A'ten's hands balled into fists. "In your own wing! And at least Zarkarth flew her properly. Everyone's saying how Galgaith's flight was a disaster, that Rhalith couldn't support her and that's why her clutch will be so small, and it's all - your - fault!"

His father stared at him. For a moment he looked as though he was about to speak, to try and justify himself, but then changed his mind. "Look, it's not so bad as that. When I was your age, most clutches were less than twenty - "

"In the Interval. When there was no Thread." From A'ten's contemptuous tone, it might as well have been back in the time of the ancients. "Jossenth laid more than twice that."

"Yes, but she - " L'keri cut himself off again. He closed his eyes briefly. "I understand it must be difficult to be my son right now, but once the eggs are hatched it'll all blow over."

"Right. Until the next time you make a public ass of yourself. Like the time you fell off the roof at Dolphin Cove, or the time you played a prank on the Weyrlingmaster when you knew I might end up in his class, or when you yelled at that greenrider in front of the entire dining cavern. Why are we even here, at this Weyr? Because you got drunk and insulted your Wingleader and they kicked you out." The rage rose up inside him, choking his throat, burning behind his eyes. He'd made it up with L'keri so many times, and nothing ever changed. "I wish I had any father other than you. I'd rather have one of those holdless people, or not know at all. The moment I'm old enough I'm applying for a transfer, and then I don't care if I never see you again!"

"A'ten..."

But he was already gone, half-running across the Weyrbowl to where his dragon was waiting, eyes glowing yellow-white in concern. **It's okay. I'm all right, Corvanth. I just... Let's go back to our weyr.** And once he was safe in there, he wished he'd never have to come out again.

Last updated on the November 28th 2025

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You Had One Job