Learning to trust again
What would happen if a badly traumatised young man Impressed a green dragon?
-0-
The runner, a pretty grey mare, stood patiently in her stall as Jothan groomed her. It was a task that required little thought when you'd performed the task as many times as the boy had, and so he was able to let his thoughts wander where they would. And as they so often did they sought out the wide expanse of the skies and the dragons that ranged it. Like so many boys before him Jothan dreamed of becoming a dragonrider. Yet he knew it was unlikely to happen. As his father's only son, he was destined to one day take on the hold and continue the family tradition of breeding runners.
His father teased him for being a dreamer, but so long as Jothan got his work done and learned all he needed to know in the running of the hold Loren didn't mind.
Loren's hold, Low River, nestled in the foothills on the western boundary of Highland Rivers Hold, in the north eastern corner of Ragnarok island.
It was only a minor hold, but Loren and his partner Ruarii had built it from nothing and the runners they bred were among the best around and always sold well at gathers. It was a small but well run hold with just a handful of occupants, Loren and his partner Ruarii, their wives, and children, and a journeyman harper, Tairel. Loren's wife Toria ran the household, helped by their daughter Raewynn, Ruarii's wife Elfina was a healer. Their daughter Hestia preferred to help with the runners. She was a few months older than Jothan's sixteen turns, both of them barely come of age. Raewynn was older than her brother, wed to Tairel and expecting his child.
There were perhaps a dozen or so hands, stablemen, fieldworkers, labourers. Those with families lived in neat stone-built cottages, those who were single occupied dormitories nestled against the hold proper. Most had lived there for their whole lives.
-0-
"Jothan?... Jothan!"
His father's voice broke into the boy's daydreams. Without pausing his grooming he called out,
"Here, Da."
Loren looked into the stall.
"Sparky's jumped the fence again. Go look for him will you? There's a storm brewing and we don't want to lose him."
"Sure, Da."
Jothan finished his task with a gentle caress to the mare's neck.
"Good girl," he said softly as she turned her head to look at him.
"You enjoy your feed now."
He left the stall, closing the door behind him, and glancing along the line of stalls at the other runners he'd already tended. The stable, one of several, was a spacious stone building with stalls along both sides and a door at one end. The windows, close to the ceiling, were already fitted with metal shutters to protect them from the thread that was not expected to fall for a few turns yet. Loren believed in being well-prepared.
He put away his grooming kit on its shelf, his father insisted on keeping the beasthold tidy and kit looked after, and would scold Jothan if he left a mess. He took a halter from its peg, then he collected some lunch and a bottle of water from the kitchen. It wasn't the first time Sparky had run off and likely wouldn't be the last. The runner seemed able to jump any fence, however high, and enjoyed the freedom of running the plains. If he followed the pattern of his previous escapes Jothan could expect to spend most of the day looking for him. With everything in a bag over his shoulder he set off.
He knew Sparky wouldn't cross the river or the road. The contrary creature usually headed westwards, towards the mountains where he knew there was shelter, so Jothan chose that general direction. It still left a lot of ground to cover though. He didn't waste time, not with the threat of a storm. On the open plains the lightning that invariably accompanied them was a hazard to any creature out there, be they man or beast. If he needed he could shelter in any one of the caves that bordered their land and wait out the weather. But he knew his parents would rather he was safely home even if he didn't find Sparky.
It was a long way to the caves and he stopped to eat his lunch on the way. For once he got lucky, the sun was well past its noonday height when he saw the errant runner grazing peacefully. He had obviously tired of running for he made no effort to avoid Jothan as he approached. Speaking softly to reassure the creature he gently slipped the halter over Sparky's head and fastened it.
"Good boy," he murmured quietly. "Shall we go home now."
He pulled himself up onto the runner's back but before he could settle himself comfortably something spooked Sparky and he reared up, throwing the boy off. Jothan hit the ground hard, his head impacting on a hidden rock, knocking him unconscious.
He awoke in complete darkness, disoriented, dizzy from the blow to his head. His hands were bound, and a cloth had been tied over his eyes. The ground beneath him felt sandy, gritty, and he had no idea where he was or how long he'd been there. In the distance he could hear the rumble of thunder, the threatened storm must have started, yet he was dry. He must be under cover, probably in one of the many caves that pitted the mountain range. Around him, closer, he heard the voices of several men, obviously discussing him, but no one bothered to actually speak to him.
"Keep him here until the storm is over," someone said.
"We don't want him telling anyone we're here."
"And after?"
"Just leave him. We'll be long gone before they find him, if they even bother looking. Scrawny kid like that ain't good for much."
"I dunno. We could have some fun with him. He's pretty as a girl."
Jothan shuddered, scared without knowing why. His sheltered life at Low River meant he was ignorant of many of the lifestyle choices prevalent in the wider world. He wouldn't be so much longer.
He heard footsteps crunching on the loose ground coming closer. A rough hand grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him to his feet. Jothan swallowed against the nausea that churned in his belly as he changed position too quickly.
"You listen to me, boy," a harsh voice growled close to his ear.
"You try to remove that blindfold to see us, it'll be the last thing you ever see. Behave, do as you're told, and maybe we'll let you go when we're done. Understand?"
Jothan nodded, not daring to speak. The blow to his head had left him disoriented, feeling sick, afraid that if he opened his mouth he'd vomit.
"Good."
He felt the man's hand reach behind his neck, pulling loose the cord that held his pale brown hair in place, running his fingers through its length, arranging it to his satisfaction over the boy's shoulders.
"There, now you look more like a girl. Such a pretty thing, you are. But will you be as accommodating as a girl? You'd better keep us happy if you want to live. Can you do that?"
Jothan shuddered as the man stroked rough hands over him, pulling his shirt open to touch the bare skin of his chest, all the while murmuring obscenities that the boy tried not to hear.
He felt his clothes being tugged down, the man's hands touching him in places no one had the right to touch, as he was forced down onto his belly, and then pain, so much pain. Jothan screamed, begging him to stop, but he just laughed and carried on until he was sated. But even then he'd not finished tormenting the boy. As Jothan lay there sobbing in distress he felt the point of a blade being pressed against his shoulder, and drawn slowly and deliberately down toward his spine, carving some sort of crude design into his flesh, then dust being rubbed into the raw wound.
"You feel that, boy? That means you're mine. You'll carry my mark for the rest of your life so everyone will know what you are."
Too weak and exhausted to fight him Jothan just lay there, tears of shame falling to the ground beneath him. Even then it wasn't over. His tormentor's place was taken by another who likewise abused him, each man who had a mind to taking turns, raping, beating, whipping, whatever cruelty they could inflict on him. To his horror and shame he felt his body react to what they did and wept all the more, believing there must be something wrong with him to take pleasure in such cruelty, not knowing that it was simply a physical reaction he could not control. Eventually his mind and body could endure no more and, mercifully, he passed out.
The next time he awoke he was in a different place, in a moving wagon, held by strong yet gentle arms. There were more voices, not the same, not those of the men who'd assaulted him. Now he recognised the familiar tones of his father, and of Raewynn's husband Tairel. He couldn't make out what they were saying, his head hurt too much to concentrate. but their quiet talk was comforting. His shoulder, where the man had carved his mark, felt numb for the moment. What he was having trouble understanding was why his trousers felt wet and sticky against his body, and why he hurt so much down there.
He couldn't remember, had no recollection for the moment of what he had endured, a merciful oblivion that protected his traumatised mind.
He moved his head slightly only to be overwhelmed by dizziness.
"Lay still, son, we'll be home soon."
"Hurts, Da," he mumbled.
"I know. Your mam will make it better. Just wait."
Jothan's mother did her best for her son, she and Elfina could treat the damage done to his body and in time the scars would fade. But she had no idea how to heal the hurt done to his young mind. He changed from being the confident, outgoing boy he'd always been to withdrawn, nervous, afraid of everything. He wouldn't tell his father what had been done to him, though Loren could guess easily enough from the state he'd been in. Jothan had never seen the men's faces, couldn't identify them, so they'd never be brought to justice. What they'd done to him had left him broken both physically and mentally and he was too ashamed to talk about it. Only the healer knew the extent of what he'd suffered and he'd begged her to keep it secret. He thought by not talking he could forget all the sooner but it wasn't so easy.
It affected his behaviour. He went about his chores silent and always alert, no longer indulging in daydreams. There was no place for them in his life now. Out in the open he felt halfway safe, he could see in every direction, see if any stranger approached and avoid them. The runners too would warn him of any nearby stranger as he tended them. Inside the farmhold, inside any enclosed place he felt nervous, constantly afraid his abusers were hiding, waiting to attack him again. Even during the worst of weather he couldn't face being inside the crowded hold, he preferred the company of the beasts in the barns.
He wouldn't let any man near him, not even those farmhands who'd known him most of his life. He just couldn't bring himself to trust anyone anymore.
-0-
Jothan was working out in front of the hold, clearing weeds from the pasture, as the dragons circled down and landed near the farmhouse. He watched them curiously, assessing them with a stockman's eye. One was a brown, large, well muscled, his hide almost bronze as the sunlight caught him. The other was blue, smaller, sleeker than his companion. Browns had almost as much staying power as bronzes, he knew, but blues were more agile in the air, second only to the greens, smallest of all the colours.
He knew why they were here of course. Everyone knew about the clutch of eggs that waited on the sands of Prominence Weyr's hatching cavern. Word had circulated that the riders were on search but Jothan wasn't interested. All his childish dreams of becoming a dragonrider were long abandoned, lost along with his innocence. Sharing your life with a dragon required a degree of trust that he no longer felt capable of since the attack bare sevendays ago.
The riders dismounted with the ease of much practice and strode to the hold's door where his father, alerted to their coming, waited to greet them. Loren led them inside and Jothan returned to his task, occasionally glancing up at the dragons to be sure they kept their distance. He'd never heard of dragons harming anyone, but he was taking no chances. They turned lazily to watch him but made no effort to move.
He wondered who they'd choose, there weren't many here of the age they seemed to prefer, young people who would grow up alongside their dragon. One or two of the stockmen were young enough, Hestia maybe, Raewynn? No, surely not his sister, not when she was so close to birthing her baby. He'd miss Hestia if she went but she deserved better than a man who was afraid to touch her. He discounted himself for obvious reasons.
He would be a good choice. I feel power in him.
No. He is too damaged. Can't you feel it? He is hurting.
Yes, but the hurt is still new. Given time he could be healed.
Jothan dropped the weed he'd just pulled and straightened, looking around in a panic. There was no one there, but he'd heard the voices so clearly... or had he?
"Go away," he whispered. "Leave me alone."
No. We can't do that. Come with us.
"I can't. Please, let me be. I'm no use to you."
-0-
L'san approached the hold with a certain amount of caution. There were still some holders who begrudged the weyr's right to search and he didn't want to stir up unnecessary trouble.
"Good day, holder. May we search among your people?' the brown dragon's rider asked with an open, friendly smile.
Holder Loren regarded the riders and nodded.
"You're welcome to search here. I won't stand in the way of anyone who wants to go with you."
He invited them inside where Toria offered them refreshments while they talked to everyone. Most of the stockmen were too old and clearly not what had attracted their dragons to this out of the way hold, and the few children too young . The holder's daughter might have been a possibility, but she was heavily pregnant. L'san would not even consider taking her, although he knew some might.
"Is this all your household?"
"Aye. All but my son. But he'll be no use to you. He's damaged."
"We'd still like to see him."
"He won't come in here, not with so many people, but I can take you to him. Outside he may agree to talk to you."
The speaker was an attractive red-haired girl still in her teens who'd been introduced as Hestia. L'san had thought she might be a possible choice. At the riders' acquiescence she led them outside, explaining as she did.
"Jothan and I were promised, we were to be wed this summer, but then something happened. He was attacked and badly beaten. And something more, I think, but he won't tell us. Maybe my mother knows, she's our healer but she won't tell without Jothan's say so. Since then he scarcely speaks, he won't touch me, seldom comes inside the hold. He's scared of every shadow. I hate to see him like that, but I don't know how to help him."
Jothan watched as the riders left the house with Hestia. So they had chosen her. Well, good fortune to her, he thought sadly. She deserves it.
She is not the one. You are.
"No I can't be."
Jothan made no effort to run as the group approached him, he knew the dragons would find him whether he wanted or not. They stopped a few feet from him, both men towering over his diminutive fiancee.
"Jothan, they want to talk to you. Hear them out."
He could hear the pleading in Hestia's voice, wanting to make it right but not knowing how.
"I'll listen. But they're wasting their time."
One of the riders took a step forward but stopped as the boy looked about to run.
"Jothan, I'm L'san, rider of brown Carynth. He believes you could be a potential dragonrider."
He was well matched to his dragon, a brown man with sun-darkened swarthy skin, dark almost black hair and beard and brown eyes. Even his clothes were brown, wherhide, their tones broken only by the red and black knot of the weyr's identifying colour.
"Wirreth says he is too damaged. You're wasting our time, L'san," the other rider said. Taller than his companion he was the opposite of him in every way, wiry, slender almost to the point of emaciation, with an unruly shock of white hair, and a hungry look in his piercing blue eyes.
Jothan shook his head and backed away.
"He's right. I am damaged, past helping. Just let me be."
"Jothan, please, hear them out. I can't bear to see you live your life like this."
"Then don't. I offered to free you from your promise. Take it and leave me be."
L'san sensed the girl's distress. She clearly loved the boy enough to be willing to do anything for him.
'Can we help him, Carynth? Is there a chance to make him whole again? He is so young to have given up on life like this.'
The big brown lumbered across the field and lowered his head to peer at Jothan. It took everything the boy had to stay still and endure the dragon's searching probe.
Yes, my own, we can help him. But he needs the female too.
'Then we'll take her too if she'll come.'
For him she'll do anything.
Come with us, little one. Let us heal you. Help you forget the hurt that was done to you.
"No one is past helping if the will to change is there," L'san said gently.
Jothan looked up, his face streaked with the tears he could not stop. He was overwhelmed by the love he felt directed at him from the dragon, from his rider and most of all from Hestia. How could he refuse? Cautiously he reached up a hand to touch Carynth's soft hide.
"Yes, " he choked out, "I'll come. I can't live like this any longer."
The dragon bent his great head lower to gently touch the boy's shoulder.
You don't have to.
Carynth was clearly managing Jothan for the moment so L'san took the chance to speak to the girl.
"We'd like you to come with us as well," he said and she nodded.
Vaguely the boy heard L'san speaking to Hestia, but what the rider said didn't register with him.
"Come, lad, you need to tell your father and to pack your belongings."
Reluctantly Jothan pulled away from the dragon's comforting touch and allowed L'san to lead him back to the house. The rider opened the door and went inside. The boy followed but hesitated at the door until he realised nearly everyone had gone back to work and the room was empty of all but his and Hestia's family.
"Jothan has accepted our invitation and will be returning to Prominence Weyr with us. He will need to pack his belongings."
Toria saw her son's panicked look and quickly said she would help him. Hestia watched them disappear into the back of the hold, then turned to her own parents to say,
"I'm going with them too, Jothan needs me." before hurrying away to pack her own things.
With his mother's help it didn't take long to pack his belongings, all his clothes and everything else in two large carisacs. Toria took his thick coat from its hook behind the door, and handed it to him.
"You'll need this, going between," she said, watching as he put it on. Jothan paused to take a last look around.
"I was happy, before… " he said quietly.
"I know. And one day you will be again. Just give it time."
She reached out to briefly touch her son's cheek.
"Now come along. Mustn't keep the riders waiting too long."
Hestia was waiting outside the room laden and clad much as Jothan was.
"Ready?" she asked, smiling when he nodded.
An uneasy silence had fallen over the room where their family and the dragonriders waited, as though no one knew what to say without them there.
Loren looked at Jothan with concern as they entered.
"Are you sure this is what you want, son?"
For some moments Jothan was silent, then he looked up at his father.
"Yes. If they can help me I have to try. I can't go on living like this."
"I wish you could have told me what happened. Maybe I could have helped."
Jothan shook his head.
"No. There's nothing you could have done, nothing anyone could have done. I have to live with that. But with a dragon I won't have to be alone with the memories. They'll know, but it won't matter to them."
"It's your choice, son, and I'll respect that. You'll always be welcome back here if things don't work out."
Jothan nodded silently and Loren turned to L'san.
You'll watch out for my boy, rider?"
"L'san nodded.
"You have my word, Holder. And if things don't work out I'll see him safely returned to you if that's his choice."
Toria stood close by as Jothan spoke with his father, clearly wanting to fuss over him, but holding back. Hestia made her farewell to her parents, hugging each in turn. Jothan simply stood watching. It was, L'san thought, as though he was scared of all physical contact. Jothan's sister came forward.
"Take care, little brother," she said softly, "come back to us whole."
Impulsively she flung her arms round him and held him close for mere moments, but when she released him the expression on his face was sheer panic. For a moment doubt crossed L'san's mind.
'Are you sure about him?' he asked Carynth.
Yes, my own.
Together they walked to the dragons.
"Hestia, you ride with J'vor. Jothan, you'll ride Carynth with me."
L'san ignored his fellow rider's disappointed look, he'd made his decision for good reason. Jothan was exactly the type of young man J'vor preferred and L'san knew the blue rider would have been unable to resist flirting with him. He had the feeling such an action would be a really big mistake. The riders fastened the well-stuffed carisacs to their dragons' harnesses, then helped the youngsters to climb up and strap themselves securely.
Watched by the holders the two dragons sprang aloft and went between, emerging high above Prominence Weyr.