Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word (2/2)

Writers: Anaria, Len
Date Posted: 30th May 2011

Characters: J'nor, G'wen
Description: G'wen and J'nor have it out about their fight and find some insight into one another
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 1, day 23 of Turn 6

"Alright," J'nor said, sensing that there was more to things than what
G'wen was saying. He quickly headed to the Weyrlingstaff offices, told
them that G'wen wasn't feeling well, and settled down for his classes.
He sat there a few moments before requesting permission to go take
G'wen to the healers, and heading back to G'wen's room. "G'wen?" He
called out.

Didn't this guy take a hint? The boy in question groaned and curled
up into a ball, throwing his blanket over his head. The last thing he
wanted was for J'nor to see he was crying yet again and come to some
odd conclusion about it. He bit his lip to stop another sob.

"G'wen! You are mere months away from being a full dragonrider. We're
almost Senior Weyrlings now. You can't cry every single time someone
says something you don't like!" J'nor said, his patience thoroughly
tested. "What in Faranth's name is so bad that you have to cry about
it?"

"Leave me alone! Why does everyone have to control me? I'm sick of
it! I'm sick to death of it." G'wen would have stood up if only his
head hadn't felt like it was going to split open. As it was, his face
was half covered by heavy hair and his pillow.

"Well then perhaps you're in the wrong place. We're dragonriders. We
don't control our lives anymore," J'nor replied dryly.

G'wen sighed and eyed him. "Where have you been? Of course we
control our lives. Okay, maybe we have responsibilities, but after
that? No one's going to be telling us where to go, what to do, how to
look. That's what I want, to be left alone and be allowed to be me."
He took the corner of his shirt and tried whipping his tears off his
face.

"Yes, when we don't have duties we have some free time. But your
dragon will always need washing, and your riding straps mending, and
you can't tell me that you're going to tell your Wingleader, "Sorry
mate, I can't fight thread today because I need to have a good cry?"
There's a time and a place for it all," J'nor said.

"I could..." A giggle at that mental picture was teasing G'wen out of
his blue. "Could you see G'nir's face at that?" The giggle
threatened to go into a full blown laugh.

"G'nir!?" J'nor exclaimed. "What if U'kaiah is your wingleader!? Oh
Shards and Shells, that'd be a thing to see. I think he'd be stricken
by disbelief at your audacity!"

"Please! I'd be more scared of G'nir's wing. You've got him,
T'mahl_and_D'wrayt, two former Weyrleaders and the current, plus
D'wrayt could be listening in on your dragon at any time. And
besides, me dad's in Cyan Wing, so I won't have to worry about that."
The thought of his father and of the former Weyrleader's ability
sobered G'wen right up. Tapping the bedframe, he muttered, "yeah, my
dad..."

Sensing that there was something more to the story, J'nor prompted,
"You're really frightened of him, aren't you?"

"My da?" The boy looked up at J'nor, surprised. "No, not frightened.
It's just he thinks certain things and knowledge should stay in the
family and...I dunno..." G'wen made a face, careful not to say too
much. He was nothing if not well trained to stay quiet.

"G'wen, you're a grown up now. You have your own dragon. You can't
keep acting like you're living in fear that he'll just swoop down and
take everything from you," J'nor said. "You can make your own
decisions, he can't do a sharding thing about it."

G'wen just gave him a 'you really think so?' look. Picking at his
thumb nail, he murmured, "you don't know my da. I dread to think what
it's going to be like once the weyrling ban is
lifted...he's_so_uptight about me being on a green. He thought I was
going to get a bronze." G'wen eyed J'nor and laughed. "Obviously
he's delusional. I mean, look at me for Faranth's sake!" He
indicated his small frame and pretty, rather than handsome, features,
and rolled his eyes.

"And, you know, the whole thing about you liking boys..." J'nor said,
rolling his eyes. "At least you still talk to your father. Last I
heard, he had taken to telling people at the Hold that I am dead."

"Dead? What?" G'wen sat up and patted the spot next to him for J'nor
to sit down. "Wanna talk about it?"

J'nor sat down heavily, sighing as he did so, "I was Holdbred. An only
son of a Hold guard. It was bad enough when I wanted to be a tailor. I
think Da hoped that I'd fail at it. See, he expected me to be a guard
as well. Said I had the right build and mentality for it. He never got
over his disappointment that I didn't Impress bronze."

"Yeah, I remember you saying he just left..disowned you and all. And
now he's saying your dead?" The boy almost put his head on J'nor's
shoulder--out of habit--until he remembered not to, and listened to
what the other boy said.

"Yeah, I... I almost wish that I cared. We've never been close, so
it's not like I feel like he deserted me. More that I feel like I
should feel bad about it, but I don't. I do hate that some of the
friends that I used to have mourned me. That's unfair to them," J'nor
said.

"So just show up in a few months time! Can you imagine your da's face
then? It'd serve him right." G'wen perked up at that thought.
"Seriously, we could get K'ale to come along. And Cardella and S'vin,
O'ryn, you and me. That'd be a big group."

J'nor smiled. It looked like things would get back to normal after
all. "Sure, G'wen. I'd like that."

Last updated on the June 2nd 2011

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Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word (2/2)