Disclaimer: The plot and characters are my own, but the setting and theory belong to Anne McCaffrey.
Chapter Three
S'mar knew something was wrong as soon as Korla joined the afternoon class. She had a look of extreme concentration on her face, but she had to be reminded to put the firestone in Rinath's mouth.
S'mar didn't need to be reminded. He'd been waiting for the firestone lessons ever since he'd learned they were coming. Since they were halfway through an Interval, he doubted he'd ever fight Thread, but having the ability to was nearly as appealing.
Nerith was excited, too. Dragons talked among themselves, S'mar had learned. And poor Nerith had been regaled by many a dragon with tales of grandeur. And it repeated with every firestone drill. For dragons had short memories, and they quickly forgot the stories they told.
At first, S'mar didn't know how much firestone Nerith would need to sustain flame. But K'men helped him out, as he helped everyone who needed it. By the end of the afternoon, Nerith had managed to sustain his flame for longer than any other blue in the class.
But S'mar's elation diminished somewhat when Nerith burped up firestone ash all over the Weyr floor. The only thing that kept him from dying of shame was the sight of every other dragon except K'men's Spokanth doing the same.
"Clean that mess up, and then you're free to go," K'men barked, eliciting groans everywhere.
S'mar found himself working next to Fr'kane, a green weyrling who'd been trying to catch his eye. The guy was nice, in his own way, but S'mar was having trouble convincing him that he did not want to escalate their relationship beyond friendship.
"I've heard K'men say that the greens should rise soon," Fr'kane said now, giving S'mar a pointed look.
Selmith is looking lovely today, Nerith pointed out.
Oh, shut up, you, S'mar snapped, shuddering.
"Okay, look," he said out loud. "I. Do. Not. Like. Guys. Get the picture?"
"Hold-bred, right?" Fr'kane said. "Relax. You're in a Weyr. Let your true feelings through."
"They are," S'mar growled, trying desperately hard not to knock some sense into this guy. He could never fault Nerith for being a blue, but most of the blue riders did eventually end up with male weyrmates, and so everyone assumed that S'mar was like them.
"You are beautiful when you're angry. Did you know that?" Fr'kane breathed, a rosy blush tainting his cheeks.
S'mar mentally gagged and stalked off to clean firestone ash somewhere else. He could only hope. Fr'kane had gotten the hint.
Korla, meanwhile, was enjoying an uncomfortable conversation of her own. She'd ended up next to a bronze weyrling who never seemed to shut up about himself. She was relieved to see S'mar coming.
"Excuse me," she said, interrupting the bronze weyrling's explanation of his lineage. "I see a friend coming." Then she pushed past him and headed to meet S'mar.
He looked extremely upset about something. "What's wrong, S'mar?" she asked, momentarily putting aside her own troubles out of concern for her new friend.
She almost laughed when she heard his story. Thankfully, she stopped in time to save S'mar's dignity.
Then a thought hit her. "He might be right, though," she said. "About the greens," she added when she was his look of outrage.
"I don't know if I can handle it," she said, sounding weary even to herself. "Not on top of everything else."
"What is 'everything else'?" S'mar asked, suddenly serious. "I know I hardly know you, but I want us to be friends. Friends help each other, and I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong."
Korla thought about it. S'mar seemed over-enthusiastic, but that was just a first impression. He'd already surprised her once. Maybe he would be a good ally.
She decided to tell him. "I'll tell you," she said, "but not here. There's too many people around."
"Fair enough," he said.
All the weyrlings worked togethre to get the ash cleaned up, and the job was soon done. Then it was time for the evening meal. It was only Korla's second meal, but already she found that she liked the food better than Benden's. The drink, however, didn't compare, since Benden Hold made the best wine.
All too soon, the meal was over. Korla led S;mar to her weyr, where she spilled the whole story: Kornen's death, her transfer, and then the note from L'poll that had made her view the death as suspicious.
"So that's why I've been tense," she finished lamely.
S'mar was silent. Korla looked to see his eyes filling with tears. She wondered why. It wasn't his problem that this had happened to her.
"What are you talking about?" he asked when she voiced this opinion. "You think I'm going to let you carry this all by yourself? Let me help you."
Korla was touched. S'mar hadn't been repulsed by the fact that her brother had died. He hadn't offered useless words of comfort. He'd just shared her pain, and let his empathy be the comfort.
"Of course you can help," she said. "In fact, you've already helped, in more ways than you can imagine."
They'd been sitting with their feet dangling off the weyr ledge. Now S'mar put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed. They sat there in companionable silence for a while.
Then S'mar asked quietly. "So what do we do first?"
"Think of a plan," Korla said, and laughed.
Fr'kane was worried. It seemed likely that Selmith would rise to mate soon, and he still hadn't found the right guy. He was a romantic at heart, and from what he'd heard about mating flights, he wanted to experience Selmith's with a rider he actually felt something for.
What are you worried about? Selmith asked now. A dragon will fly me, and that will be that.
"So sensible," Fr'kane muttered, shaking his head. "I wish it were that easy,"
He'd thought he'd struck gold with S'mar. There was a guy who was funny, smart, and dependable, not to mention good-looking. With his tall frame, blonde hair, and amazingly deep blue eyes, S'mar was sharding near irresistible.
At first, Fr'kane had thought S'mar was just afraid to be who he was, being hold-bred and all. But that had changed this afternoon. He'd seen S'mar with that transfer girl, seen the look in his eyes, and his heart had finally believed what his head had known all along: S'mar didn't prefer men.
And now Fr'kane was despondently sitting on his weyr ledge, with only Selmith to keep him company.
Aren't I enough? she asked now, catching his train of thought.
"Of course you are," Fr'kane assured her. "You're more than enough." And she was. But still Fr'kane longed for human love.
He stared up at the star-filled night sky. Belior was in the first quarter tonight, and Timor was full and bright. Fr'kane was always awestruck when he saw how large the universe must be, to hold this many stars.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
Fr'kane jumped, and turned to see where the voice was coming from. There was a man on the ledge next to his, also looking at the sky. Fr'kane's breath caught in his chest as he saw the young man (he couldn't have been more than 20). He had night-black hair that threatened to hang over his eyes, but didn't quite manage it. Which was good, because those bright green eyes captivated Fr'kane in their expressiveness. "Absolutely beautiful," Fr'kane replied fervently, not taking his eyes off the strange young man.
The man looked his way, laughter in his eyes. "I'm R'kun," he said. "Want to join me?"
Fr'kane got up and easily leaped the short distance between the ledges. "I'm Fr'kane. Pleased to meet you," he said, holding out his hand.
R'kun took it, and Fr'kane shivered at his touch. "Pleased to meet you, too. I've never seen you before. Are you from this latest hatching?"
Fr'kane nodded. "And I've been in this weyr for three sevendays. I can't think why I've never seen you, either."
He shrugged. "Probably about a sevenday ago, this weyr opened up. I think the last occupant got transferred or something. A couple days ago, I decided to move in. It might have been just coincidence I never saw you before now."
"I have to ask," Fr'kane said. "How old were you when you Impressed?"
R'kun chuckled. "I was fourteen, to tell the truth. I'm eighteen now, but I look older. How about you?"
"Seventeen," Fr'kane replied. "Since yesterday."
They lapsed into silence. It was strange, but it felt to Fr'kane like they didn't need to do a lot of talking to feel comfortable together. This was proved when R'kun slipped his hand into Fr'kane's. Fr'kane let him. True, they had just met, but already he felt that he could understand the phrase "love at first sight".
"What's your dragon's name?" Fr'kane asked, eyeing the chocolate brown dragon sleeping inside the weyr.
"Bronth," R'kun said with a smile. "He's the best brown in the Weyr."
"And Selmith's the best green," Fr'kane replied, worried that his dragon had felt left out. But no, when he touched her mind, she felt amused.
Why should I feel left out? This is good for you. You're going to stop worrying now.
Can't argue with that, Fr'kane replied.
He yawned suddenly. Now that his anxiety had left, the long day was catching up with him.
"Guess I'd better go," he said reluctantly. "More firestone practice tomorrow." He got up.
R'kun got up, too. "Are you sure you have to go?" he asked.
Fr'kane nodded. "Selmith hasn't risen yet, and I can't compromise her."
"I meant so soon," R'kun said. "I wouldn't want to move that fast anyway."
"Me neither," Fr'kane said through a yawn. "I just said that as a precaution. Well, good night."
"Good night," he heard R'kun call after him as he jumped back over to his own weyr.
Later, as he was climbing into bed, Fr'kane realized that this was just exactly the sort of thing he had dreamed about many times. He hoped against hope that this time, it had been real.
