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Story Listing
Series Listing

Weyrling Training

Writers: Estelle, Steel
Date Posted: 14th July 2026

Characters: A'yan, A'ten
Description: A’yan seeks help.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 3, day 24 of Turn 13

He had finished feeding Nhaliviath, of course-- he would _not_ be accused of shirking his duty to her, for all the raw meat made his stomach turn and the physical training made his muscles ache. She was _there_, a constant presence of warmth and the weight of affection and _responsibility_.

He couldn’t… She was asleep, now, thankfully. She didn’t … she didn’t deserve the way his thoughts were spiraling as he stared down at the hopeless tangle of scrap leather in his hands.

Useless. He was useless. He _knew_ how to sew, at least quick mends. This was no different.

"Need some help?"

A'ten had been half-focused on watching the class, preoccupied as usual with how unfair it all was. Half of them could barely manage a stitch without tying themselves in knots, and yet they would all be assigned to a Wing before him, all because they were a few months older. But this one green weyrling was looking so pathetic and helpless that even he couldn't stand by and do nothing.

A'yan looked up, registered that it was A'ten standing there, and then morosely held out the strap tangles. “... Please?” He asked quietly. “I know how to sew, but this… escapes me.”

"Sure. Don't panic, we'll figure it out." A'ten managed to put his usual resentment and contempt for the weyrlings aside for once; it would have been like kicking a puppy, and at least this one hadn't started out by treating him like a little kid or accusing him of staring. "Wait here a minute."

He found one of the training harnesses with a pair of blueriders who looked like they were progressing well enough, grabbed it with a brusque apology, and headed back to A'yan. "Okay, it usually helps to look at a finished one. Don't worry about these yet," he went on, pushing aside the complicated knot of leather and buckles that attached to the rider, and turned the harness over. "This wide part goes under your dragon's neck, and we begin by sewing on two big straps that go up and over her ridges. Kind of like a scarf, or a necklace...what's her name, by the way? Your green?"

“I like scarves.” A'yan told him, half because they were the first words that sprang to mind and half to assure the other that yes, he was indeed paying attention.

Then he winced internally and offered a bright smile in hopes of covering the fumbling words. “She is Nhaliviath.” He offered. “You are… A'ten, yes? Hello.” he added, belatedly.

"Ah - yes. I'm A'ten, and my dragon is Corvanth." A'ten wondered if trying to show this weyrling what to do was going to be even more of a trial than he'd expected, but it was too late to back out now. Perhaps he was just nervous. "So, with stitching leather, it's not like cloth; you have to mark your line first, and then punch holes where the stitches have to go before you start sewing. That's what these tools are for. How about you try on a scrap piece first, while I find the neck straps for you? Then we can get started on joining them together." He gestured towards the tangled pile of cut leather.

A’yan nodded, half apologetic, and went to pick up a likely scrap of leather. “That… makes more sense.” He admitted. “It is attaching everything together that gets… tricky.”

And he was tired, and a little bit hungry, though eating could wait until later.

"You'll soon get the hang of it," A'ten said, doing his best to sound reassuring rather than doubtful. "Most people find this class hard at first, unless they've been a tanner or a beastcrafter or something. You’ve just got to take each step as it comes and not worry about the whole harness at first. Here, try marking a line along the edge, with this." He handed A'yan a tool, then carried out sorting through the leather pieces.

“The harness _is_ important.” A’yan responded. “Without it… I can’t proceed.” He tried another smile. “Nhaliviath is looking forward to doing as the older dragons do.”

"Yeah." So was Corvanth, A'ten thought. Both of them were longing to be in a real Wing, and were prevented by the stupid rule about his age. Even this clumsy, skinny weyrling would get to join the fight before him.

There was nothing either of them could do about it, though, so he pushed down his resentment and tried to sound more cheerful. "Flying together's the best. It's a real rush, the first time, and as soon as you get cleared to fly on your own, the whole Weyr opens up."

“I… am sure.” A’yan offered, a little awkwardly once more. Even if the idea of leaving the ground at all was nerve-wracking.

}:I would never let you fall or fail.:{ Nhaliviath huffed at him, affectionately.

"Wait and see. You'll love it." A'ten couldn't imagine how anyone wouldn't adore flying, but perhaps the weyrling was worried about completing his harness. He glanced at the line A'yan had scored on the practice piece. "That looks fine. Now try making a couple of holes - here's the tool. Then do the same on another scrap, and I'll show you how to stitch them together."

A’yan nodded with a frown of deep conversation. “... That makes sense.” He offered.

A'ten watched as the weyrling worked, then turned to preparing a needle and strong thread for the next step. All the time, he thought of his own fighting straps that he'd prepared, and how long it would be before he'd get to use them for real, in a Fighting Wing.

Last updated on the August 7th 2026