A Change of Pace

[G'brihl]

m4.d2.t2059.p9

Two months.  Two months had passed since his impromptu rescue from Fort Hold, eight sevendays to the day.  The first week had been spent recovering, mostly eating and sleeping because he'd had to suffer the indignity of a cold caught from being crammed in a poorly heated cell with equally poor rations and general conditions.  He was lucky, all things considered, that a cold was all he had to worry about when compared to some of the other prisoners.  For instance, while most of them were crammed into whatever spare space Harper Hall had to offer, Gabrihl had been able to find a place in his parents' apartments which was far less crowded.  Awkward, yes, particularly as he got the feeling that his mother, at the very least, was hoping he might reconsider his place in the Craft, but far better than being stuffed into too small a space with (not really) complete strangers.

Of course, some of those not-so-strangers were already gone, plucked from the Hall not a sevenday after their rescue on Search, of all things.  Gabrihl had been, as mentioned previously, curled up in bed asleep at the time as he recovered from a cold, and when he learned of what he'd missed hadn't given it too much though.  He'd seen dragons on Search before, and it was nothing spectacular, even if he was mildly curious as to whether or not he would have been found acceptable.

But, as it tended to do, life continued.  He recovered from his cold and from the ordeal at the Hold, and once officially cleared to do so by a Healer, had assumed some duties around Harper Hall.  It was a good thing he had training in the craft, since the cold clutches of winter as of yet had kept him from resuming his duties as a Runner.  Gabrihl couldn't do anything official, such as teaching (which he was silently grateful for), but there had been little compunction in setting him to other tasks, such as copying records (boring, but his handwriting had always been impeccably neat, so it was understandable), manning the drum tower (also boring, but the code was a second language to him), proofreading musical scores for errors (boring)...

In short, he was going out of his mind.  There was very little for him to do that provided any sort of stimulating mental challenge.  Most of the Harper Masters were busy with the debate as to who would replace Master Robinton (which left him somewhat bitter, even though he understood the importance of having a Masterharper in place), which left him dealing with Journeymen who already had their hands full with their own craftwork in addition to dealing with the Apprentices.  They tended to shuffle him off as quickly as they could manage, and while he never shirked the duties to which he was assigned, no matter how boring they were, more and more Gabrihl was finding himself slipping away to spend some time on his own.  He'd taken to running a circuit around the Hall courtyard when weather and ground conditions permitted, which not only helped to keep him somewhat sane but was good practice and exercise to make sure he wasn't out of shape come late spring when the roads finally became passable again.

It was on one such day, when the sun was shining thinly down from a sky still the pale, slightly washed out hue of winter, that a shadow passed overhead.  Gabrihl didn't even break stride as he glanced up, squinting against the sun's glare.  There was little enough reason for concern; though danger did fall from the sky, salvation came from there as well, carried aloft on dragon wings.  Those wings, it seemed, were bearing a rider to Harper Hall for some task or another.  A quick look around showed the courtyard was mostly empty otherwise, Apprentices and Journeymen alike busied with lessons and duties, so the Runner altered his course so that he was heading to where it looked like the dragon was going to land.  He could at least attempt to assist the rider since there were no others about to do so... and perhaps it would help to alleviate the boredom of a daily routine, however briefly.

[Lusean]

Hatching time was growing closer and closer, and that meant L'sean had been busy... Very busy.  He wasn't so much a Searchrider in training anymore, which meant he had been spending a lot of time skipping and hopping (or was that hopping and skipping?) from one small cothold to another by his lonesome when he wasn't working with a group of other Searchriders when descending upon a larger Hold.  Though today was technically supposed to be a day off for him, and though he hadn't exactly been jumping for joy at the thought of running errands, Desith had mentioned he might like an opportunity to stretch his wings... And so he had complied.

And now that he was actually in the air with his dragon, he had to admit that it was pleasant.  The air was a bit chilly, just nice enough so that L'sean felt refreshed.  He had even gone so far as to direct Desith to a space a bit away from the main Fort Hold to go between, so that they could fly directly the rest of the way.  It was no bother to Desith, for he fancied himself a strong and very capable blue... And the beast was showing no sign of fatigue as he arched his wings and dipped down through the clouds.  Sprawled out before them lay the Harper Hall, and Desith took a moment to hover so that L'sean could get a good look.

It is a large place,  The blue mused as he started forward again.  He changed his flight pattern to circle as he looked for a place to land, and, once he had sought out a sizable enough space, he began to descend.  Have you been here before?

"A few times,"  L'sean murmured, his eyes on a figure that was apparently running to the same place they were.  That was good.  He could hand the letter satchel off and get back in the air.  "...But I was a Weaver, not a Harper."  Sometimes he wished he'd changed his Craft.  He enjoyed singing.   But who knew where he would have ended up then?  The thought of never having met Desith made him shudder, and the young man reached out a gloved hand to gently stroke his blue's  sky-hued neck.

The blue landed with surprising grace for a beast of a dragon's size and girth.  He had only half furled his wings before he tilted his head and gave a soft croon in the back of his throat.  'Sean leaned forward and wrapped his arms around the blue's neck in an attempt to give comfort.

"What's the matter?"

There is a lot of sadness here,  The blue explained.  It makes me want to feel sad, too.

"A lot of people loved Master Robinton,"  L'sean explained gently.  He ached slightly, knowing there was very little he could do for Desith... But thankfully the blue was already distracted, his head turned so that he could regard the man who had rushed up to help them.

We have a visitor.  Hello, visitor,  The blue murmured politely, though he was not sure if the other man could hear him or not.  Unlike most dragons, Desith was not particularly partial over who he spoke to.

Desith shuffled as he lowered his shoulder and allowed L'sean to dismount.  The young man stumbled a bit as he slid to his feet... And pulled his face into a slight frown once he realized how much taller this man was than himself.

Then again, most men were taller than L'sean.  This wasn't much of a change.

"We have a note,"  He wasn't sure why that was what left his lips first.  "...For one of your Masters,"  He explained further, and began patting his sides.. and felt his skin go cold once he realized it wasn't on his belt.  For a moment he panicked, thinking he might have dropped it between, before--

Did you leave it on your bed?  Desith was chiding, albeit not disdainful.  Like a parent gently scolding a child, he continued.  L'sean, you said you had it when we left...

I thought I had!

"Uh,"  He knew he was flushed red, and he refused to look the other man in the eye.  "...Well, we... did.  But we don't."  He wanted to leave this situation as quickly as possible.  As a rule, L'sean was very non-confrontational.  "...We should go."

[G'brihl]

Gabrihl's stride slowed before he reached the place where the blue dragon was circling in to land, and by the time Desith was settled in the courtyard he had already slowed to a walk, occasionally giving his legs a shake to help properly cool and relax them and prevent cramps.  His first thought upon seeing the rider perched on the blue's neck was that she was entirely too pretty--and then he realized that 'she' wasn't a she at all.  He had to scrutinize the rider for a few moments, but yes, there was a bit of a masculine line to his jaw, and there was a distinct lack of feminine curves beneath his snug, obviously tailored wherhide clothes.

Interesting.

Then there was a soft, lilting voice in his head, and it took him a moment to realize that the dragon was speaking to him.  Gabrihl's other eyebrow went up as he focused his attention on Desith, momentarily at a loss as to how to respond.  It seemed discourteous not to reply, but then, he might appear to be less than sane if he started talking to himself.  Perhaps if he just... thought his answer?  Dragons were telepathic, after all, and if this one was willing to speak to him, perhaps he was still listening, as well.

Greetings, he thought at Desith, feeling no less foolish for the endeavor for all that he hadn't spoken aloud.  As if drawn by the dragon's presence, Zaman and Rioghan suddenly winked into the air above his head, the bronze circling down to settle calmly on his shoulder.  The green, on the other hand, seemed to be immediately intrigued by the dragon and settled on his neck ridges, studying him intently.  Gabrihl thought to call her back, but the blue didn't seem to be taking any harm from the contact, and then his rider dismounted and Gabrihl's attention was required elsewhere.

He was a tiny little thing, wasn't he?  A tiny, forgetful thing, it would seem, and Gabrihl couldn't help but tilt his head slightly to the side as he considered L'sean for a moment.  "Do you perhaps recall where you left the note?" he asked, hoping to prevent the utter inefficiency of a wasted trip.  "If you or your dragon are willing to provide directions, Zaman could go and fetch it for you."

[Lusean]

Desith crooned with pleasure once Gabrihl responded back.  It was unusual for people to think back at him; then again, Desith had been focusing on listening very, very carefully for a reply.  It was sometimes hard to hear people who were not L'sean, and Gabrihl's response had even been faint, a whisper in his mind.  But he'd heard, and as the runner came closer, the blue extended his head forward to a warm breath through his nostrils.. and then rippled the muscles beneath his hide as a firelizard perched on one of his neck ridges.

There is a firelizard on my neck.  He was the epitome of calm, though he did stretch one wing and try to twist his head to get a better look at the creature, and ended up stepping in a circle in the process before he realized it wasn't meant to be, and simply held still.  After all, she wasn't hurting anything, he supposed.

L'sean had seen the firelizard too, and he had to admit that he was a bit jealous.

Or, a lot jealous.

He'd always wanted a firelizard, but they had been hard enough to come by at the Hold (and moreso at the Hall) without being "wasted" on someone like him.  His father had told him many times that he had no need of a firelizard, and that he'd probably forget to take care of it anyway.  L'sean had always argued that wasn't true.

He focused his eyes on the bronze on the runner's shoulders, and his lips pursed slightly in the beginnings of a pout.

Are you jealous?  Desith was as amused as he was baffled.  Why?  It is but a little thing.  I am a dragon.

...L'sean hadn't thought of it that way before. 

He pulled himself out of his thoughts just in time to hear Gabrihl speak.  Awkwardly, L'sean shuffled his feet.  He felt like a fool.  "Desith can--"  He began, and then yelped a little as the blue pushed his rider forward with his nose with a bossy snort.

..Hmph.  Pushy thing.

"...I can give one directions,"  He said at last, ashamed.  "I.. I left it on my bed.  I don't usually,"  He added, automatically defensive as he tilted his head up to look Gabrihl in the eye.  "Just this.. once.."

[G'brihl]

This blue dragon was a forward sort, and Gabrihl couldn't help but smile slightly at his boldness.  It was but a faint curve of his lips and a crinkling at the corners of his eyes, but it was a smile nonetheless.  They were fascinating creatures, dragons.  According to the records, they bonded to a single rider at their hatching and would have no other for the entirety of their life.  If the rider died, so too did the dragon, such was the depth of their love for that person.  What must it be like, to be so bound, to have a creature who knew your very soul partnered with you for all of your days?  It was an intriguing notion, one that Gabrihl hadn't really considered before, but then, why would he?  He was Crafter born, and most of his life had been spent beneath dragonless skies.  This was, in truth, the first time he'd been able to see one of the great beasts up close.

It was tempting to look, to touch, to examine, to see just how similar Desith here was to Zaman and Rioghan, but it would be exceptionally rude to do so.  So Gabrihl controlled the urge and instead focused on the task at hand; the retrieval of the letter that L'sean had forgotten.  Tilting his head to one side so that he could see the flit perched on his shoulder, Gabrihl lifted his forearm and gave the silent command for Zaman to take a perch there.  The bronze obeyed without question, wings spread to steady himself as he was extended toward the dragonrider, tilting his head curiously at the command to take an image from this big-lizard rider.  Practiced as L'sean was at giving visuals, Zaman had little trouble at picking up the image of where he was supposed to go, and with an affirmative chirp he launched into the air and winked between.

"It will take him but a moment to return," he reassured L'sean, folding his arms behind his back, and if Gabrihl was at all aware of the boy's defensiveness, he hid it well.  People forgot things.  He didn't, but not everyone had the same sort of memory he did, so he was not surprised by this failing, nor was he judgmental of it.  "If you do not mind my asking, dragonrider, what is--"

There was a sudden rush of bitterly cold air as Zaman returned, and Gabrihl deftly accepted the piece of hide he was clutching in his foreclaws so the bronze could settle on his shoulder once more.  His free hand dipped into a pouch at his belt, retrieving a small tidbit to reward the flit for his service.  "Beg pardon, rider." Gabrihl said as he offered the note to L'sean.  "If you will confirm that this is the correct message and tell me who it is intended for, I can escort you to them or deliver it on your behalf, if you wish."

[L'sean]

Just as Gabrihl was watching Desith closely, L'sean was observing the other man's interactions with his firelizard.  He'd heard that you could train the creatures, that they could do all sorts of useful things... But to be honest, he'd never seen one up close before.  His fingers itched.  He longed to reach out and stroke it, to see if it felt just as Desith did... But then the little bronze was gone between, and L'sean heaved a soft sigh of regret.  Maybe later, then.

"I'm not in too much of a rush,"  L'sean shrugged his shoulders.  It was his rest day; he had nowhere in particular he needed to be.  "I don't have anywhere to be."  Just here, running errands.  And surprisingly, he didn't mind.

Though, the company could be better.  This fellow was making him nervous.  He was very well-spoken; perhaps a bit too much so.  L'sean felt dumb simply by looking at him, and so he avoiding looking the other man in the eye.  Desith proved to be a fitting distraction;  he turned to his beast and fussed over him, taking time to lightly stroke the blue's muzzle and eye-ridges.  Gabrihl's voice startled him, and he jumped a little before he quirked his head to have a look at the runner.. And jumped again wen the bronze reappeared from between.

"He's back so soon,"  L'sean blinked in surprise, and extended a hand to take the note from Gabrihl.   He didn't bother to look at it, and instead stuffed it into his belt.  He didn't need to look.  He knew it was the right one.  "It's for Master Lucho,"  He had remembered, because the name had struck him as odd.  "And you don't have to take it for me, that's what I'm here for...  Were you going to ask me my name?"  He was nervous, and jumped from topic to topic rather like a frightened runner.

"It's L'sean.  That's my blue, Desith.  I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce us... Can you point me in the right direction?"  He'd embarrassed himself enough for one day. He wanted to deliver this message and return home.   "I mean, you can come with me if you'd like, but it probably won't be interesting."  L'sean didn't consider himself a very intriguing fellow, but the other man had offered.   Maybe he ad a burning desire where L'sean didn't?

[G'brihl]

"It takes but a moment to travel between from one place to another," Gabrihl answered, realizing a moment too late that L'sean likely knew this better than most.  He was, after all, a dragonrider.  It occurred to him that he should perhaps apologize, or at least make some sort of favorable remark that might make the statement seem a tad less insulting, but the bluerider was already rambling away, taking the note (with what Gabrihl felt was considerable less regard for its contents and the person it was intended for, all things considered), naming the Master it was for (Lucho, eh?  Hm, who could be at Fort Weyr with a message for that aging Harper...), and then wondering if or perhaps why Gabrihl hadn't asked his name.

Well.  To be blunt, he wasn't much interested in L'sean's name.  The chances of them ever meeting again were about--

But L'sean didn't seem to care about chances or whether or not they would meet again, providing both his name and that of his dragon.  Then apologized for not introducing them soon, which Gabrihl had to admit was technically a breach of etiquette, though he wasn't much concerned by it, and honestly, unless he'd been to Harper Hall before how did he expect to find Master Lucho if someone didn't take him?

"As I am no longer a Harper," Gabrihl finally began slowly, once given the opportunity to speak.  "I have no pressing duties that might otherwise provoke me to simply give you directions.  I can show you to Master Lucho's study; he can often be found there at this time of day."  A pause, as he considered something.  "I am Gabrihl, Journeyman Runner.  It is an honor to meet you, L'sean and blue Desith."

Which was technically true.  Most people were honored to meet dragonriders, but Gabrihl had never expected one of their number to be quite so... flighty.

[Lusean]

L'sean cocked an eyebrow at the other man.  "I know how long it takes to go between,"  He said after a moment, one eye narrowed suspiciously.  L'sean, by nature, was quick to take offense... And he had the distinct feeling that his person had just been slighted.  He also had the feeling that maybe the other man hadn't mean to, and so he let it slide.  "I meant-- It's not always certain that a firelizard comes right back.  Sometimes they dawdle."  Firelizards, he had heard, were only as reliable as long as they were well trained.  Otherwise, what might have started as a quick delivery might turn into an hour-long social visit.

Without another word, they started off.

For whatever reason, L'sean was beginning to feel distinctly... Unwelcome.  He had the idea that this man didn't like him very much, and he couldn't understand why.  He'd been nothing but friendly, after all.  The bluerider peered uncertainly at the taller man, and he played special attention to the other man's tone of voice.  He was talking slowly.  Did he consider L'sean to be stupid?

"It's good to meet you, Gabrihl."  L'sean was the epitome of polite, even if he did feel this man was being a little rude.  Or maybe that was because he felt inferior?  The other man did seem very intelligent, and L'sean had never considered himself to be very smart.

"A Runner, aye?"  He broke the silence after a few moments.  "...I can't imagine it.  I hate running."  He remembered when he had to run laps around the rim as a Weyrling.  It'd been awful.  He offered the other man a quick, toothy smile.  "I prefer flying."  He glanced quickly around them as they approached the hall, and nearly stumbled over his own two feet as he stared upward.  He'd looked up at this Hall a long, long time ago.  Remembering it made him feel a little sad.

"When we arrived,"  He said suddenly, "Desith said he could feel the sadness here.  From, you know."  He glanced around and lowered his voice.  "About Master Robinton.  ...Has it really effected the Hall that deeply?"