The Tools that Shape Us (Tag I'saac)

[lithle]

The stands of the hatching sands were temporary structures, built in a hurry to accommodate those who wanted to view the unexpected miracle of Semith's clutch. They had not been created to last. They had not lasted. New stands would be needed before Semith next clutched. If Semith clutched again.

And, with the Watch's recent visit fresh in so many minds, it was believed those revered personages would be present should eggs appear again. And they could not be expected to sit on such shoddy sands.

So work was underway to build more permanent structures. A foundation had been laid around the sands and work was underway to create the structure that would soon enough be the new hatching stands.

Jaden was helping. He was helping, mostly, because he could be trusted to hold sharp objects without injuring anyone, despite his status as a prisoner. He was, of course, still under observation, the overseer was watching everyone. But he'd been allowed a mallet, chisel and straight edge, so that he might shape the stone blocks into more uniform forms. Partly, yes, because he could be trusted to do so in a non-threatening manner. But also because as far as prisoners that didn't seem to pose a threat, Jaden was one of the larger ones. That was good, for such work.

It was easy enough to see why Jaden was not seen as a threat to the guards. He knelt, focused on his work, a broad mountain of a man. He should have had an air of danger. But there was something in his posture, the tense way he held himself, that spoke of a fight or flight mechanism permanently turned to flight. The guards knew well enough they needed to do little more than shout 'boo' to take Jaden down. Especially now, with his compatriot injured, leaving him all the more vulnerable.

He did not like to be outside as such times. He went anyway. He had to be good. The alternative, well, he couldn't even think about it.

There were others prisoners working, sweating in the winter sunlight, their bright red uniforms marking them as criminal. But Jaden was a bit apart, shaping stone. He was silent, as he worked, while some of the other prisoners joked and shouted. Every now and then, one of the guards in charge stopped to check on him, and he ducked his head and mumbled. He just wanted to finish. To go back inside. To go back to Spins, where it was safe.

[giftwrapped]

I'saac did not enjoy routine prisoner supervision. It wasn't a terrible job by any means, and obviously, someone needed to do it, but when work groups were sent out, he preferred to be part of the squad that rode regular sweeps. It wasn't that he found the supervision of the work groups difficult, or even at all frustrating. No, I'saac was entirely capable of keeping a work group in line, and he didn't upset himself at all over things like that. It was the entire social aspect of the situation that frustrated him. And it wasn't even that it frustrated him; it frustrated Nicoth, who projected nearly all her feelings through the sensitive greenrider.

She hated being grounded and sitting, waiting ineffectively for something interesting to happen. She hated being forced to watch useless prisoner humans toil over boring mundane tasks while she sat, huffy and grounded, and waited for the four-candlemark shift to end. She despised the prisoners, everything about them, and wanted nothing more to do with them then to roar in their faces until they pissed themselves, and then return to the flying that the bad-natured green much preferred. No, being grounded for four candlemarks while I'saac stared blankly at a chain gang was just about the least exciting thing that could possibly happen to a rider and dragon.

Stupid, she remarked conversationally to I'saac, a stretch and yawn covering the vast majority of her reaction to the prisoners toiling away in the mild winter weather. I'saac said nothing, simply sighed softly and shrugged against Nicoth's neck where he lay. Boring, it might have been, but dangerous, it wasn't. Particularly with Nicoth on the Squad. Someone had spread some sort of rumour that the green dragon was fully capable of destroying humans, and as false as it might be, I'saac occasionally wished it was true.

Nicoth, too. Make other dragons and prisoner-kin respect, the green rumbled, and though I'saac sighed, he couldn't bring himself to punish her entirely. Instead, he slid down from her neck, landing with a thud on the edge of the Hatching Sands. He didn't see anything out-of-the-ordinary, with the slight exception of a single young man sitting on the fringes, leveling stone blocks. And that man, I'saac recognized. but...he frowned slightly. This particular man was almost always seen with another; and I'saac hadn't seen that other man in quite some time. So he swallowed his pride and approached Jaden slowly and from the front.

He didn't know a great deal about the Weyr prisoners, but some of them seemed to make a name for themselves. And in the case of this particular young man, prisoners occasionally made names for others. Jaden would have been utterly forgettable...if it weren't for the fact that he was attached at the hip to a prisoner known for his tendency to antagonize whers.

For a moment, as he approached, I'saac frowned ever-so-slightly at Jaden. He knew the face, knew that the pair was generally regarded as high-intensity but harmless, and knew that there wasn't much to worry about when it came to them. But he could not for the life of him remember the prisoner's name. And then, when he finally got close enough that he could make out a few of the details of the prisoner's face, his expression went from mildly annoyed to a good-natured smile. There it was! He hadn't forgotten, after all.

"...Jaden, is it?" he asked softly when he was close enough to speak. "Usually you're out and about with Spenser. I haven't seen either of you, recently. Is he all right?"

[lithle]

Jaden was not unaware of the dragonriders approach, though he had hoped, at first, that the man would pass him by. When it became clear enough that the greenrider did indeed intend to approach him and there was nothing he could do about it, he set about flinching. It was hard to miss it, when Jaden flinched, such a large man trying so very hard to take up as little space as possible. He didn't recognize I'saac except as 'a greenrider' but then, he didn't interact much with the world. That was Spins' job.

And if Spins had been with him--

Anger. Expected, he was angry at his friend. He got angry anytime Spins did something stupid and hurt himself. Which meant he was often angry at Spins. It was as much a part of their friendship as anything else. It helped some how, it made it about more than need.

But the man was talking to him now and his tone, at least, held no immediate threat. Jaden's breath did not hitch, his pulse remained steady, though he continued to attempt to make himself as small as possible. He had a particular way of looking up, pressing his scarred cheek against his shoulder and staring up with his head tilted. He did that now, with I'saac above him.

"He got stepped on, Sir." Jaden's voice was deep and resonate but timid. A careful listener would hear a sort of dry irritation beneath the fear, but it was subtle. "He's tied up in the infirmary with a broken leg."

It was something of a comfort, that the man had asked after Spins. Spins was Jaden's talisman against fear. Others could wear it like a promise of safety. The very use of it made the rider a little less threatening. "Thank you for asking, Sir. Is there something you need?"

[giftwrapped]

The flinching made I'saac himself flinch a bit, a change in demeanour taking him from the usual tall confidence with which he walked and bringing him into a lighter, softer way of standing and moving. I'saac was large, nearly as large as Jaden, in fact, but he was not in any way imposing without a great deal of effort. When Jaden answered him, he fixed his eyes on the man, sinking into an easy crouch while Jaden was talking with the intent of making better eye contact with the man. He nodded steadily when Jaden finished, expression neutral verging on friendly. Some of the prisoners you didn't speak to. Some of the prisoners, if they were standing alone, you approached with your hand on your knife. With Jaden, none of that was necessary.

"Stepped on?" he asked, curiosity in his voice. "What was he doing that he got stepped on?" And then the quiet realization dawned. Spenser, who was a reckless whirlwind and tended to make his own fun when he couldn't find any. He remembered one of the other guards, tossing back one of the headier brews after a long shift and remarking, 'Idiot plays tag with whers.' And that explained pretty easily what Spenser had done to get himself laid up in the Infirmary with a broken leg. "Oh," he answered his own question quietly, then gave Jaden a lopsided little smile. "Tied up. With Spenser, I guess that's literal, huh?" he asked lightly.

You are still speaking to him. Nicoth's voice was acid in I'saac's mind, and he glanced over to the dragon. She was lying on the ground, tail curled gracefully around her hindlegs and head lifted so she could cock it and fix I'saac with a penetrating, jealous stare. What about that little worm is so interesting to you?

You should be more pleasant, Nicoth, I'saac answered quietly, and the dragon snorted and turned her head away, affronted. I'saac turned back to Jaden, who had asked him a question. ...Huh. Was there something he needed? No. There wasn't. It was just that Jaden had seemed lonely and quiet, and I'saac's heart had gone out to the poor man. "I suppose not," he answered thoughtfully after a minute. "I just saw that you were alone over here, and thought maybe you could use the company. This time out here gets long for both prisoners and guards."

He smiled, then, a strangely self-effacing expression. "Though I imagine it's longer for you." He gave Jaden another lopsided smile and shrugged a shoulder. "If you prefer, though, I'll leave you in peace."

[lithle]

As I'saac's posture and position changed, Jaden's did in turn. He straightened a bit, his cheek no longer pressed against his shoulder. He was more than a little broken, a fragile ghost of the man he once was. But he wasn't incapible of recognizing kindness. Provided I'saac continued to speak gently and made no threatening gestures, he could manage something like conversation. He'd been at Warden's a year and, consequently, at Spins side. That helped.

And he was angry at the moment. Angry at Spins who'd gone and done something dumb again. Who was always doing something dumb without thinking of how it'd hurt both of them. Spins knew well enough how terrified Jaden was that one day a stunt would be fatal. Spins never saw the point of doing anything that wasn't dangerous. And he kept doing such things, no matter what Jaden said. It made him want to prove, at least a little, that he could do fine on his own.

Even if it wasn't true.

"It's for his own good." He still spoke softly but the irritated amusement was slightly closer to the surface. "I keep hoping he'll learn. He hates it, being--"

His throat tightened. He'd let the thought come to close. He could mention the restraints casually, but to think of them, to feel the remembered weight on his wrists? It was why he could barely bring himself to visit Spins right now. He couldn't stand to see them.

He took a breath. Slow. Careful. Deliberate. Another. His eyes had closed. But he'd made it back to himself. He could put it away. He could. He opened his eyes, kept them down on his tools. Without speaking, he finished the block.

"Please." A whisper. His voice quavered slightly. He lifted his gaze, eyes meeting I'saac's. "Stay if you like, Sir." He managed something that was at least intended as a smile. "I'm used to having Spins with me. You'd think I'd like some quiet. But it's uncomfortable."

[giftwrapped]

Ah...I'saac had said something that upset Jaden. He saw the sudden change in body language, the sudden tenseness in the man as he closed his eyes. And the greenrider stayed still, bearing still nonconfrontational as he watched Jaden. Sometimes, the prisoners who came to Warden's were broken beyond repair, and he couldn't help but wonder if this was the case with Jaden. He had heard there was a Mindhealer only recently come to the prison, presumably to rehabilitate the prisoners. He doubted the efficacy of wasting a mindhealer's time on the unrepentant murderers, but maybe there would be some chance that a person like that could help Jaden.

It was painful, to see someone quaver and cower and wonder if he had once been whole. He smiled in return to Jaden's attempt at smiling, maintaining the crouch and nodding to the man when he looked up from finishing the block. "I'd like to," he answered, and the smile stayed with him as he continued. "And I think I understand what you mean. Silence can be very heavy, when you're alone but you're used to being with people. I don't like silence when I'm alone." The last sentence escaped thoughtfully; I'saac didn't like being alone. It meant he was left to his own thoughts, more often than not. And while that in and of itself wasn't painful, it also meant that he was left in the presence of Nicoth.

And very little was more disconcerting than the dragon's typical silence, a presence in his mind that bothered to speak only rarely and dripped venom nearly every time she did.

If she heard his thoughts, Nicoth ignored them. And she would continue to do so as long as I'saac elected to continue associating with Jaden. And so the greenrider let it alone for the time-being. "I do understand how you feel about Spenser - Spins - though," he remarked lightly, staring thoughtfully into the middle distance for a minute before returning his mild gaze to Jaden. "My weyrmate does the same thing a lot. Well," he paused then, shrugging and giving Jaden another lopsided smile. "He doesn't play tag with whers. But he's done plenty of stupid things in his time. Honestly, sometimes I wonder that he ever managed to become a wingleader."

[lithle]

"Does he stop if you ask him?" The question sounded genuine. "Do you ask him? I ask Spins all the time."

"He never thinks of me." There was bitterness in Jaden's tone, anger coming closer to the surface, making him sound a little more like a person and less like a broken toy. But it lasted only a moment. The words seemed to shock him. His eyes widen, his pathetic little attempt at a smile disappeared. "He does. If it wasn't for me he wouldn't have--"

He shook his head, taking another breath. "He had a future you know? He wasn't like me. He's good at his craft. Everyone-- everyone always said so." He was babbling, a little. Nerves? The oddness of talking to someone who didn't already know him, know everything? It was strange to be in such a position, a position to pick and choose what to tell and what to keep. Spins already had everything. There was no hiding from him.

Jaden brushed his fingers over the stone he'd just shaped, feeling it for faults and flaws and finding it to his satisfaction. He set it aside, with the other completed stones, and placed another unfinished rock in its place. "You're lucky to have a dragon, you know? Dragonriders always have a future. Everyone can just see you and know you're special. Spins, he's special like that too. But he's in here with me."

Stupid boy. But how was he to know of Nicoth, of the difficulties I'saac faced?

[giftwrapped]

"When I manage to get to him before he does something stupid, I can usually stop him," I'saac answered thoughtfully. "Unfortunately, he...does most of his stupid things when I'm not around to see." Not particularly surprising, considering I'saac's tendency to be the voice of reason in the pair. But his thoughtful quiet turned to patient silence as Jaden spoke again, and I'saac considered everything the other man had said for a while before he answered. There was pain in Jaden's voice. A great deal of pain. He could only imagine what sort of situations had brought him to this point, and even that was more than he wanted to think about.

All he knew was that the only emotion he could muster in relation to Jaden was pity. Poor thing. "The paths we choose," he answered slowly, thoughtfully, "...the paths we choose and the paths that choose us..." For a moment, he trailed off, glancing over at where Nicoth lay, all three eyelids closed and expression one of utter disdain. "Sometimes they lead us to places we never expected. And sometimes those places are ones we don't want to be at."

One of his hands moved for a moment, as if he had been preparing to reach out and touch Jaden lightly on the shoulder. And then he remembered himself and stopped, turning the motion into just a general shift in position and kneeling down. It was more comfortable than the crouch, anyway. The smile he gave Jaden when he brought up dragons was a queer one, slightly bittersweet. "I suppose it does mean that," he answered quietly. "It is special, having a dragon. But there's also a lot that comes with it. Behaviour codes. Lists of people you should and shouldn't associate with."

"Do they treat you all right here, Jaden?" he asked suddenly, voice still soft but heavy with concern.

[lithle]

"You just need assistants. People to watch him for you when you're not around. You know," a small smile, "spies. Like the Watch uses, sometimes."

He wanted to do the same with Spins sometimes. But his friendships, those few he'd made, were tenuous things. He didn't know how to ask anything beyond company of those who put up with his moods and his fears. And asking anyone to keep an eye on Spins seemed a particularly weighty request. Other than Jaden himself, those too close to the man tended to get drawn into his stunts.

He fell quiet then, considering his own path and beginning to examine the new stone that needed smoothing. The paths that choose us. It was a comforting thought, wasn't it? But he'd chosen his own path. Chosen the Healer Hall. Chosen Krair.

But then, Jaden knew he was a little slow. He always made the wrong choice, left to his own devices.

"They treat me alright," he said, giving a dismissive little shrug to the question. "I've been here long enough. And everyone knows Spins. People know, even if he's hurt and locked up, he heals. And the guards aren't so bad if you do what you're told."

His expression shifted from thoughtful to mild amusement as he realized he was speaking to one of those 'not so bad' guards. Oops. Well, what's said was said. Soon enough, the expression was serious again, touched as ever by quiet fear and sadness.

"What do you do? If you pick the wrong path and you find the wrong place and you aren't special?" He stroked the rough surface of the stone, soon to be smoothed by an outside force, whether it liked it or not. Soon to change. That was life, for stones. People had a choice. Until the walls came up and there was nowhere to go. Or maybe you could climb them. But they sure seemed high from the bottom.

"They said I could stand, you know? For the eggs? The ones that ended up funny. But Spins can't. And--" he stopped speaking, shrugging his broad shoulders. Spins couldn't. What else was there to say?

He'd told Spins as much. It was another thing they argued over.

"Anyway, I don't know anything about behavior codes or who I shouldn't talk to."

[giftwrapped]

"Spies. I like that."

I'saac's lips curved into a genuine smile at Jaden's words, and he ran a hand through his hair, shifting again so he was sitting tailor-style on the ground, palms on his knees as he watched Jaden. For a moment, he cast around, looking for another tool so he could help the man with his work. Anything to make the time go faster - and then he realized with a strange jolt that he was considering helping a prisoner. But Jaden...well, Jaden was different. Not in any tangible way, just as a whole. Jaden was resigned to his life. It was...sad. You heard things when you talked to the guards who worked the prisons constantly, things like the nature of Jaden's imprisonment. Someday he would like to talk to Spenser and find out more.

Moments like these made you want to help them.

"I like to think I'm not that bad," he answered Jaden's slip-up with the same good humour with which Jaden had delivered it, giving a good-natured shrug and a half-smile. But Jaden's musing dashed most of the humour from his face, leaving the greenrider thoughtful. "I don't know," he answered quietly. "I guess you do what you can. You try to find the light if it's a dark place...and you look for a way out." His way out had been Warden's - a place he could escape to and not have to worry about the mandates of the Dragon-Watch. It was a place where he didn't need to worry about Nicoth accidentally killing someone else's dragon, or mauling someone by accident himself when she lost her temper. And it meant he got to be with C'ross.

Faranth. Maybe he wasn't so different from this prisoner, after all.

"You should Stand if you get the chance," he answered quietly. "You'd still be able to see Spins. I can see you, after all," he added, quirking a smile at the other man. "And they'd want you to stay here anyways, if you Impressed. I don't know how long Spins is in for, but I suppose if he were released and you were still here, you could find something to do. And maybe once he's out, he could Stand as well." They took late Candidates at Warden's; it was something that had initially surprised I'saac, used to being the odd man out when his age was taken into account. "Maybe Semith will run again, or one of her pretty daughters will grow up and clutch. A lot of riders have their money on the multi-coloured one - opal, they call it."

"You wouldn't have to leave Spins behind. And I don't think there's anything better than having a dragon. It's like discovering you've gone your whole life and never actually been alive."