Selfishness: Consequences (2/2)

Writers: Iluva, Halyonix, Devin
Date Posted: 20th April 2026

Characters: R'kiva, M'sar
Description: M'sar faces the consequences for breaking the weyrling ban on sex.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 4, day 1 of Turn 13
Notes: Mentioned: T'lonas, M'thos

It had been a quiet, mostly uneventful restday and that should have been R'kiva's first clue that the peace was about to shatter. A novel fresh from the book dragon lay open on his desk, a stack of papers waiting nearby. Then Dalonth rumbled in sudden alarm, his tone immediately shifting into calm reassurance before he'd even clarified who it was. }:I'm here, little one. It’s alright. You are safe. We'll be right there.:{

R'kiva set down his mug and flicked the klah from his fingers. **Who--**

}:Nazoth is in distress.:{

They entered the barracks in-step with one another, the space largely abandoned on a day like this. Most pairs out stretching and socializing. Dalonth’s head snaked in as far as it could. }:Here, Nazoth, come over by me.:{ A long blue wing unfurled, steady and inviting, preparing to cover the young brown.

R’kiva called out to M’sar first, mostly out of propriety; Nazoth was clearly alone, and when only a few confused faces and empty silence answered, he began hastily checking the alcoves.

}:Can you tell me where he went, little one? Did something frighten you?:{

Nazoth waddled up to Dalonth and ducked under his wing, pressing his head against the adult's flank. }:M'sar's mind was so far, and he felt so strange.:{ The brown shivered slightly. M'sar was trying to reassure him but his rider was also upset and Nazoth didn't understand what was happening. }:He says he is in a place called flight rooms?:{

R'kiva's hand stilled on a curtain.

}:That is a confusing, frightening thing to feel when you wake up alone.:{ Dalonth said, wing tightening around him. }:Our riders go to places like that sometimes, when we are old enough to chase. We'll have him back to you soon. And I'll stay with you until he is.:{

**Stay here.**

}:I just said I'm not going anywhere.:{ Even as Dalonth settled closer around the young brown, he reached out at R'kiva's urging, }:M'sar. You are to come back to the barracks. _Now_.:{ while his rider was already crossing the Weyrbowl. It was usually around this point of weyrling training that R'kiva expected a steady escalation: pranks, sneaking alcohol, the occasional scuffle that went a fist too far. The flightrooms had his stride lengthening out of its usual quick economy into something between hurry and rage. Nazoth was calming, at least. He intended to intercept the youth on his way back or extricate him from whatever ill-gotten situation he'd gotten himself into. He sincerely hoped not the latter.

"Wha--?" the Candidate sputtered as he was pushed away. "What? Did...did I do something wrong?"

M'sar was so busy trying to calm Nazoth down he almost forgot where he was. "Dragon," was all he muttered to the Candidate. Somehow he managed to get his pants back on, and then he froze as a voice filled his head. It was definitely _not_ Nazoth. He swore again and went for the door.

He stumbled down the hall, angry and guilty and frustrated and fighting tears. **I'm here. I'm coming,** he told his dragon.

}:Your mind was so far away. Why did you leave me?:{

Nazoth had felt _abandoned_ and M'sar swallowed hard against a fresh wave of guilt. **I didn't. I'm sorry. I love you so much Nazoth.**

Pulling up to a walk just as he caught sight of him, R'kiva's expression had anger and concern and disappointment vying in it. No riders came out after him. "M'sar." He looked the young man over with quiet urgency, his concern shining through the brightest. "Are you alright? Take a few deep breaths. Deep belly breaths."

"I'm _fine_!" M'sar's voice was cracked and watery. "I need to get to Nazoth." He started walking around the Weyrlingmaster Third.

R'kiva made no move to stop him. "Good. Go," he said, following close behind.

}:He'll be here soon.:{ Dalonth's mindvoice was far more soothing.

When M'sar came around the corner and saw Nazoth huddled against Dalonth, his rear end and tail sticking out from under the blue's wing, he almost broke. "Nazoth."

The brown pulled away from the adult and ran to his rider. }:Don't leave me again!:{ He pressed his head against M'sar's chest.

M'sar _did_ break then, wrapping his arms around his dragon. **I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.** He couldn't stop the tears, knowing that he'd hurt the one creature in the entire world that loved him. He could feel it even now -- beneath the fear and confusion -- how much Nazoth loved him.

They were left alone for a while to find comfort and calm with each other, and when M'sar was finally called into the 'third's office R'kiva was loosely cradling his cold mug and angled slightly sideways in his chair. "Sit down, M'sar." He made a vague gesture to the sweating pitcher of cool water and the glass at the edge of his desk, setting his mug beside the crisp stack of papers. "How are you and Nazoth feeling right now?"

M'sar crossed his arms and stayed where he was, even though his legs were a little shaky. He hated that he'd been caught, he hated this man for seeing him cry, and most of all he hated himself for hurting Nazoth. "We're fine."

R'kiva rubbed his chin once, studying the young man. Seeing weyrlings fall apart was never easy, though he'd seen it before, but the tension in M'sar's shoulders, his extreme reticence, was something he suspected originated before Impression, and a class with so many-- really, any-- holdless was a first in his relatively short time as a 'third. He sighed, and the thought of turning toward him quickly came and went.

"That is a relief, because you gave me a scare." He shifted, leaning on his forearms.

"Look. M'sar, I'm not going to lecture you right now. You know what you did, and I can see enough of how you feel about it. I'm glad you're fine. And if you aren't, that's understandable, too." His tone turned more stern, and his gaze was steady. "But we need to talk about what could have happened, because that is something that frightens me. And it should frighten you, too. You and Nazoth are a strong pair, and I don't want to see anything change that. Not for you, or your class, or the Weyr."

"I ain't gonna do it again, if that's what you're worried about." M'sar tried not to think about how much worse it could have been. The stories they tried to scare them with in class.

"Wonderful. I hope you mean that," R'kiva said. "Who were you with?"

There was a long pause. "Some Candidate."

"You don't know their name?" R'kiva's dark brows rose.

M'sar shrugged. "Didn't ask."

"I see." R'kiva said, quiet, low. He turned to sit more fully at his desk, hands clasped, a shadow of contemplation over his face. "And they were willing?"

M'sar's anger sharpened. "I don't force people."

“I wasn't implying the opposite. I'm trying to get the facts," he assured him. “What happened placed you and Nazoth, and possibly that candidate, in danger.” It would have been a very different matter if M'sar, or someone else, had been coerced. But R'kiva didn't detect that. What clung to the air instead was the impulsiveness, the recklessness; each answer was frank, unguarded, not protecting anyone.

Either way, reality could have taken a much darker turn.

"This still leaves things uneven, M'sar. The Weyrwoman and the Headwoman need to be made aware. The candidates will be getting a talk, as well, about boundaries with weyrlings, and I'll be speaking with T'lonas and M'thos later today. If they have anything to add, you will be hearing from them." He picked up a stylus, not writing anything yet.

"Your class is getting a refresher on the restrictions, too. Just to reiterate how dangerous it is when they're broken." R'kiva's steely blue eyes fixed on him. "This won't happen again, M'sar. Because if I-- or anyone else-- catch you with a candidate or a weyrling, Faranth help me, I will babysit you for the rest of training-- brushing teeth and putting on socks together until you're flying Thread. Neither of us wants that." He moved to the door, his footsteps calm and deliberate. "Now, go be with Nazoth. You know where I am if you need anything. Curfew will be a candlemark earlier tonight."

"Yeah, whatever." M'sar wanted to argue, on instinct. But he knew he'd done wrong and he'd rather be with Nazoth than arguing with a stupid Weyrlingmaster.

Last updated on the May 1st 2026

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Selfishness: Consequences (2/2)