A Boy and His (Insane) Dragon

Writers: Clancey, Len
Date Posted: 18th November 2011

Characters: G'wen, N'klar
Description: When Neath won't get out of the blizzard, G'wen has to resort to drastic measures
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 4, day 19 of Turn 6

N'klar

Blowing snow and wind was foremost in G'wen's mind as he blinked his
eyes open. And then the assault of aching bones and wounded back
snapped him fully awake. Since regaining consciousness four days ago
every waking moment was full of pain clear into his bones, a result
of the infection from going /between/. Bloody shards, it hurt more
than the actual score did, which was
easy to keep numbed up. He sighed at the prospect of having to have
yet more fellis and numbweed.

For once he was alone as well. The patients around him were mostly
asleep, so it must have been late out. He shivered despite being
huddled under thick blankets and warm bedclothes, which made no sense
at all. Why did he also feel cold? He picked his brain a bit, waking up a bit
more before he realised...ahh...Neath!

**Where are you?!**

}:Just outside. When are you coming to see me?:{

**Neath! Let me get to the point where I can walk more than two feet
without help and I will. What's going on out there?**

}:A blizzard. It's cold.:{

Of all the stupid green dragons... **_Why_are you out in it then? Get inside!**

}:I won't leave you!:{

G'wen sighed mightily and stared hard at the ceiling for answers. It
was only a little over a sevenday since his 'Scoring and four days
since the fever had broken. In the days that had followed, all the
green weyrling could do was try to not be completely miserable or stay
awake longer than a candlemark at a time. The score was constantly
sore but worse than that was the terrible ache in
his very bones, aftereffects from the infection. It felt him feeling
like he was ill with a flu bug. And the weakness! He couldn't
believe how even the smallest things left him worn out. "It
was the infection, dear, it nearly killed you," T'bel had told him
constantly since he had regained consciousness.

So what could he do with Neath? **_Please_go to your wallow and get
out of the weather.**

}:No! I won't leave you!:{

Oh, what now? The boy wanted to cry in frustration. Of all the
silly, stubborn dragons, why did his have to be the silliest and the
most stubborn? Gingerly he sat up. His vision didn't swim, which was
a definite improvement from the day before. Along the foot of the bed
was his favorite bathing robe, the one that was about five sizes too
large and was all the warmer and more comfortable for it. He smiled,
thinking either T'bel or S'vin had brought it down, a nice little
touch, whichever one had done it. Reaching out with his right
hand--the left was still too sore to do more than the most basic
things--he slipped it on, being careful to settle it on his back
without too much pain to the long score. His slippers were on the
floor and he put them on and glanced about.

Whilst there was a lot of activity, none of it seemed where he was.
}:There was the beginnings of a Threadfall this morning. there were a
lot of accidents because of the weather coming in.:{ That would
explain it then. Everyone was near the injured who, obviously, were
put in the same place. So that would mean any pain killers were not
to be coming for a bit anyways, without him getting up and looking for
some. Well there was nothing for it. If he wanted to help Neath, and
himself, he had to get out of this bed.

He stood and was pleased he didn't fall over, right then and there.
Tottering a bit he reached out for a bedstead. Slowly he walked down
the aisle of beds, holding himself up by hanging on to them. When he got to the
end he looked around for a healer but none were around. All were over
at the far end of the cavernous room, tending to far too many injured.
He felt a stab of fear, wondering if any of the injured were his
fellow classmates.

}:N'den and G'rent and Illian, but only minor scores for the boys and
a strained wing for Yuranth. The 'Fall was stopped before they had
much to do, as the blizzard wiped out any thread.:{

That was a relieve then. No mention of Cardella or S'vin or K'ale,
but too bad for poor N'den. G'wen smiled a bit, thinking of the fellow
green weyrlling who had been such a bully as a candidate but was a
changed man since his Impression to little Halanth. They were fast
becoming good friends.

He sighed, eyeing the activity once more. **Well, I can't come see
you, they're all clustered around the entryway. They'll see me.** He
could 'feel' Neath's moan and her depression. **Don't get down, just
let me think for a moment.**

He had gotten this far and felt better than he thought he would. And
the healers would obviously need all the beds they could use. So why
not just go back to his weyr? That would get Miss Silly out of the
blizzard. He tucked his hands into his overlong sleeves and told
Neath, **okay, I'm going to go to our weyr. Can you fly on up and
meet me there, please?** Her joy in that brought tears to his eyes.

Ah, to see one another again!

Okay, you can do this, he told himself. It's just a walk up the
stairs, no problem. He slipped out a backdoor and tottered a bit when
the colder air hit him. The stairwell would be just down the hall,
just a few more steps. The place was unerily quiet, no doubt everyone
was either holed up in their weyrs, getting roaring drunk in the
dinning hall or helping the injured and their dragons.

Somehow he got to the bottom of the stairs. He looked up and nearly
begun despairing right there and then. But no, that was silly, Neath
was expecting--no, needing him--to come to her, and truth be told,
even if he did collapse here it was going to be a long wait until
someone noticed he was missing.

He placed his foot on the first step.

The first landing wasn't so bad. The second, now things were getting
tougher. G'wen paused for along while, trying to get his breath and
what little strength back. Only a few more, he told himself. Nothing
big, just a few more. He could do this. Slowly he dragged himself up
the third flight of steps, shaking more and more as he went. Somehow
he found himself on the third landing. Holding the balcony bars, he
sunk down to the flagstones, almost sick in his weakness. And the pain
in his limbs was only just bearable. He almost went into
hyperventilation once he realised what a pickle he had just landed
himself in.

**No, stop it!** He could do this, he just had to make up his mind
and do it. And no one said he had to walk there. On hands and knees
he began climbing once more. Only two more, he told himself. He was
practially there.

Listening in, Neath begun to fret for her beloved rider. She reached
mentally for all her friends but everyone was busy, save one.
}:Julerith! My rider needs help! Can your's come to the stairs?
He's trying to get up to our weyr and is almost there but is running
out of strength.:{

**He's WHAT!?** N'klar practically yelled at Julerith when he got the
sending. But he was moving, too. No time to waste, apparently.

The idiot! Sharding, stubborn idiot! Who goes out in a blizzard, sick
as a canine? Loving their lifemates did lead to strange examples of
devotion, and he could only imagine this had something to do with
Neath. He had heard the green would not leave or care for herself,
even though she was not injured. Just fretted gray over her rider.
That was bad enough, though, for a green as willful as Neath.

**Tell her I'm coming, I'm almost there..**

He had grabbed a blanket on the way out of his weyr, though it had
taken him a bit to get close to where G'wen was fighting up the
stairs.

The darling idiot.

"G'wen! G'wen, hold on, I'm coming." He yelled around the corner,
thinking he would see his quarry any moment now.

N'klar's voice carried down the stairs. G'wen wanted to cry out in
relief when he hear his friend. How had he known?

}:I told him.:{ Neath said from her wallow. If she could have
squeezed into the weyr and gotten down to rescue him, she would have.

When N'klar came into view, G'wen slumped down onto the stairs, the
last of his strength gone. He tried to say N'klar's name but it came
out a garbled 'Nnnnka."

N'klar just scooped him up - carefully, of course - and shook his
head. "You sharding, stupid idiot. You should not run away from the
Healers while you are still so sick. Its bound to hurt! But I know
how it feels to want your dragon, so here we go hmm?" He just
carried him, feeling the boy had spent all of his strength just to get
this far. Amazing what we could endure for our lifemates - the pain
alone must have sharding hurt, never mind being weakened from the
fever.

"You'll be snug in your own bed soon, and I'll send the Healers
round." He kept murmuring in that soothing tone all the way up the
stairs to G'wen's weyr, pausing at the door to lean him against a wall
to get the door open and the youngster inside, into bed. The young
greenrider was as cold as if he'd been packed in snow, and gray as a
starving dragon.

None of that mattered to G'wen once he saw Neath. He tapped at N'klar
and pointed to where the grey dragon had her head in the weyr. She
was crooning in delight and gently pressed her head up to him. G'wen
just collapsed along the length of it and let her and N'klar hold him
up. All those dark days being so sick, all that desperate hanging on
instead of giving in to death, it was all worth it, now.

**I never thought I'd see you again**

}:I knew you would. You had to, we weren't going to go that way.:{
She hummed in pride as her boy cried softly on her face.

N'klar only watched for a moment, then left boy and dragon to reaffirm
their love for each other. He would send healers and klah.

He had Julerith thank Neath for calling for them, even though he knew
she would not hear right now, and left much quieter than he had
arrived, but smiling now.

G'wen didn't hear the door shut. He was too busy adoring Neath. And
N'klar would be back soon, with numbweed!

Last updated on the December 5th 2011

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A Boy and His (Insane) Dragon