Mmm... tubers! (L'vey/Sheraz)

[lithle]

Oh, but the summers in the south were something else. The heat came down in thick, wet waves. Fierce, suffocating heat that wrapped everyone in its clinging tendrals, leaving them breathless and irritable. Fights happened in the summer months. Prisoners fought each other, or fought the guards. Sometimes, the guards fought the guards. The weather was poisonous. It brought out the bad in people.

L'vey preferred the winter months, had liked the chill, sharp winters of the north. Winter was no time for violence. People stayed still and huddled. Winter was a time for reflection. That was an activity L'vey approved of.

It seemed almost cruel, in such weather, to drag the prisoners out into the sun, expect them to tend what few crops the prison was able to grow. Oh, they volunteered, technically, but none-the less. Sweet tubers grew well in this climate, and they didn't break the Warden's all important rule about not providing cover. But wheat, fruit, klah, all had to be brought in from elsewhere. L'vey would be the last to say the Warden was a bit paranoid.

But he'd be the first to think about.

As it was, there were the prisoners, weeding under the fierce summer sun, with a squad of guards keeping close eye on their progress while the dragon patrols circled above. And there was L'vey, the only one not wearing red, working his way down a row of tubers, carefully pulling up those weeds that threatened to choke the growing crop. He wore white, to reflect the sun, but unlike some residents who could be spotted walking past, he hadn't stripped to the waist. If the prisoners couldn't he wasn't going to flaunt his own freedoms.

The prisoners had been working for awhile now. Soon enough, the guards would call a break, and perhaps he'd have a chance to converse with some of them.

Nearby, resting in an area free of crops, Faeth was watching them. I am sorry that I can't help, mine. I think I would only make things more difficult. Anxiety tinged the edges of her voice. It was hard being a dragon. So much she couldn't rightly do. Like, weed! And build walls, another prisoner chore of the moment. It'd be better when some of them impressed. Then she'd be able to help them. Do you think some of these will impress?

I am sure, if they stand, they will have as good a chance as any.

[Wren]

It really was rather unfair, Sheraz thought as sweat dripped unhindered from his nose, to expect anyone to work in this strength-sucking heat. That morning, knowing he’d be out pulling up weeds all day, he’d borrowed the sleeveless jumpsuit of a friend who was much larger than him, hoping that the baggy fabric would encourage air to flow a bit better. Unfortunately it seemed to be having the opposite effect, and he was hotter than ever. He was also up to his elbows in soil, the dirt having no concern about sticking to his damp skin, and all in all, he thought, he couldn’t have looked much worse when he was out on the street, selling dust to strangers. The work was also, of course, painfully boring. So boring it made Sheraz want to cause a scene, just for something a bit different.

He was working a little apart from the other prisoners, not through conscious choice but just because he’d drifted that way, and now he was edging closer towards the border where the fields met the jungle. He sat up on his knees for a moment to catch his breath, and out of the corner of his eye he saw someone in white working nearby. Bored enough to find even this apparently insignificant sight interesting, Sheraz stood up and lent on his shove. Peering about, he also thought he saw a green dragon close to the tree line, though the heat-haze made it hard to make her out properly.

Eventually he gave in to the desire to break up his work a little and wandered over to the man. As he neared he realised that he knew the man’s name; L’vey, though only from others pointing him out; they’d never met face to face. He stopped a short distance away and gazed between the man and his dragon. “Oright?” He said by way of greeting, leaning on his shovel again. “You’re the weyrlingmaster, right?” It suddenly occurred to him that his garish red outfit would mark him as a prisoner straight away, and so if the man didn’t like being approached, all he had to do was call to one of the guards and Sheraz would be bundled back to the Weyr, and his good record would be scratched. He sighed a little, and instead turned to look at the green dragon; he could be riding something like that soon.

[lithle]

At the unexpected greeting, L'vey straightened up, brushing himself off fastidiously as he did so. White might be a good color for the sunlight, but it certainly showed the dirt. His attempts at tiding up did little enough in that direction, if anything, he only succeeded in spreading the dirt about further. Well, if nothing else, he wasn't the only one showing signs of the work they'd been doing.

"I do have that honor," he said, inclining his head politely to the man. Where many guards took on a superior or aggressive attitude with the inmates, L'vey's manner was warm, though there was something a bit, well, sad, about him.

His name? he sent the question to Faeth even as he greeted the prisoner.

There was a pause, as Faeth asked one of the guards who exactly had approached her rider. She wasn't shy of conversations. The guards were expected to know who they guarded.

Sheraz. And he is a candidate! It is so nice to see a young man willing to better himself.

"And you, Sheraz, are a candidate, I understand? Then I may soon have the honor of teaching you." He had a quiet way of speaking, his voice a low and somehow careful. "I am so grateful to those willing to stand for Semith's clutch."

((Right, whers+daylight=bad. Adjusted posts accordingly.))

[Wren]

Sheraz blinked as the man answered; L’vey spoke in a way the prisoner wasn’t used to, but at least he wasn’t being hostile and telling him to get back to work, as many of the guards probably would have. He also sounded a little sad, though that might have had more to do with the excessive heat than anything else; certainly, judging by the amount of dirt spread over his white clothing, he had been working hard. Sheraz wondered why he bothered; he obviously wasn’t obligated to be working, and it wasn’t like he was going to lose something if he didn’t.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Sheraz said, straightening and smiling a little as the man correctly identified him; it suited his ego that the man should have heard about him without their meeting, though or course, he didn’t realise that L’vey had gotten the information indirectly from one of the guards. He was even more pleases, if a little surprised, when the man expressed his gratitude. “Yeah well, I’m sure my little hatchling will be grateful too.” He said with his usual arrogance, though he didn’t mean any harm. He grinned despite the heat, thinking about how much he looked forward to the hatching.

He looked again at L’vey’s dragon, and then a small frown creased his brow. L’vey was already a rider, and yet here he was, digging up tubers. Sheraz expected to be made to fly patrols with his dragon, he was happy with that, but if they wanted him to do this farm work as well he would not be amused. To be fair he hadn’t seen many other riders out in the fields, at least not people he recognised as riders, so maybe L’vey was just an exception. Still, with some suspicion in his tone, Sheraz asked, “Hey, why’re you out here working with us? I didn’t think riders had to.”

[lithle]

Tsk-tsk. What sort of attitude is that to take. Pride only blinds us to the strengths in others. Luckily for Sheraz, Faeth shared her opinion with L'vey, not addressing the boy directly. Still, I am sure he is good at heart. Misguided, perhaps.

He does not yet have the advantage of one such as you, dear-heart. L'vey replied, glancing over at his dragon with a look of clear affection.

"Indeed, I'm sure it will. There is no greater tragedy than a hatchling lost between." His expression so recently warm, darkened slightly, "It's likely you'll see such a loss at the hatching. There are simply not enough candidates."

He shook his head, a sharp, dismissive gesture, and his expression settled into something that at least mirrored a smile, "But now is not the time to speak of such things. You want to know why I'm out here digging?"

"As you say, I'm the Weyrlingmaster. But I can't spend the entire day training them. I like to find something productive to do between lessons," L'vey seemed sincere, at least, even if it was difficult to believe that anyone could be genuine about the things he was saying. He smiled, then, if only slightly. An expression that had more to do with friendliness and a desire to put the other at ease than joy, "Besides, it's a chance to meet interesting people."

[Wren]

Sheraz was rather appalled by the sudden mention of dying hatchlings, if only because it was rather unexpected. In his head he’d already grown fond of his possible to-be dragon, and the thought of any dragonet, a dragonet that could be his dragonet, going Between just after birth was a rather unhappy one. This train of thought perhaps showed that he didn’t yet fully understand how Impression worked, and having never seen a hatching it wasn’t much of a surprise. He still felt a little perturbed at the thought though, and more for his own comfort than anyone else’s, he said, “Ah, don’t worry; there’ll be loads of people watchin’ and if Baby Dragon doesn’t like any of the candidates, it can pick one of them.” Optimistic, perhaps, but then Sheraz had always been that, as well as arrogant and deceitful.

At the rider’s negative, Sheraz continued to look at him with a little suspicion, but his reasoning seemed sound enough, and though Sheraz was not brilliant at reading people, he thought he could tell that L’vey was being sincere; only the weyrlingmaster worked in the field, the other riders just did patrols. He still didn’t really understand why anyone would work out here if they really had a choice not to, but he supposed that L’vey was one of those men that insisted upon suffering right alongside the prisoners; why, he even refused to strip to his waist like everyone else who had that privilege. Not that there was anything wrong with being one of those men; Sheraz appreciated it even if it was just because, the more work L’vey did, the less work he and the other prisoners would have to do, and L’vey did genuinely seem to care about the prisoners’ welfare; it was he who had suggested they Stand as candidates, wasn’t it? So Sheraz thought he perhaps ought to lay off the guy a bit.

So by the end of L’vey’s explanation, Sheraz was suitably mollified to return the man’s friendly smile. He was, as usual vain enough to assume that ‘interesting people’ meant him, but for once he didn’t say anything about it. Instead he gave his wicked grin and said, “Funny way to meet people; working out in the field. We’re all in the barracks, you could come and visit us.” But he was only teasing, and his eyes sparkled good-naturedly.

[lithle]

L'vey allowed the comment about dragons choosing from those on the stands pass without reply. It did happen, occasionally, though it had happened only four times at hatchings that L'vey had attended in his life time. And he'd seen far more than four hatchlings lost between. They were fragile things, really, hungry and desperate and dangerous in their first moments. And Semith's clutch, likely unhealthy, would no doubt be all the more so.

But he did not such things. He pushed the thoughts, the mixture of hope and dread that the upcoming hatching brought, from his mind.

Instead, he replied to Sheraz's other comment. He did not smile in turn, though he was not unaware of the slightly playful tone in the man's voice. He was not one for smiling much, and, even knowing that Sheraz had spoken in half-jest, he responded seriously.

"The barracks are, for what little it is worth, your place. I see no great chance of making friends if I barge into them uninvited. Besides, the fields are more likely to benefit from my attention than the barracks are." The other prisoners were being called in by the guards now, for their break. L'vey nodded toward Faeth, "If you'd like to join me, I've got a skin of water, and Faeth will offer us a little shade."

[Wren]

Sheraz was rather surprised when L’vey answered his suggestion seriously, and looked at him rather blankly. His sense of privacy, of having a place of his own, had been utterly destroyed since coming to Warden’s. He shared his room with other prisoners, ate with them, bathed with them, slept with them, and there was little point in trying to keep any sort of space to oneself. There were the guards too, always patrolling and making sure that no one had any secrets, and the warden visited from time to time as well; the inclusion of one more rider, especially one as calm and inoffensive as L’vey, would hardly have been noticed.

Sheraz could not think of an eloquent means of putting this, however, and he wasn’t really concerned enough to try, so he just shrugged and said, “Whatever, man, s’up to you.”

A call came from the guards, and Sheraz looked up sharply with a smile that was not aimed at L’vey; break-time, he would get a rest. He looked sidelong at L’vey, and was about to make his excuses and go when the weyrlingmaster suggested that he join him and his dragon. Sheraz gave him the same intense, calculating look he always gave when someone he didn’t completely trust had offered him something he liked the sound of. He was more interested in the opportunity to meet L’vey’s dragon than anything else, but he was very interested in that; he wanted to learn as much as he could about the creatures before the hatching, and meeting one seemed to be a good way to go about that. “Okay,” he agreed after a moment, his eyes glinting, “Yes, let’s go.”

Peering against the heat-haze, he looked in the direction of the green and made his way towards her, striding over the neat rows of crops. He waited for L’vey, thinking that Faeth, while perhaps small for a dragon was still much larger than him, and it would be best if her rider were alongside him when he met her.

[lithle]

Faeth was a tiny thing by dragon standards, other greens towered in comparison. She had a delicate look about her too, with her dainty little limbs and her lightly freckled green hide. She'd been lounging as Hers worked, but now she sat up, giving the prisoner a little croon of encouragement when he began to approach.

When Sheraz stopped, waiting for L'vey to catch up, the green stood, stepping forward to peer at the boy inquisitively. Her voice, when projected into the prisoner's mind had a resonate quality, deeper than what might be expected from such a little green. Glad to see you have some manners. A bit full of yourself, I'm afraid, but that's probably down to upbringing. We'll see you put right.

Moving with stately elegance, the dragon circled her rider and the prisoner at his side, then settled back, resting her head on her fore-legs.

So you plan to stand for Semith's clutch? Poor lamb, she's hardly treated with the respect one might hope. And if you are chosen by one of her babies? Faeth stretched out her neck, her head now directly in the man's personal space. Are we to trust you to take care of the child?

L'vey, smiling, allowed his dragon free reign. She could be a little forward, but he knew well that her heart was pure and clear as a freshwater spring. "Darling, won't you at least allow the poor man to sit before asking your questions?" He asked, speaking allowed for Sheraz's benefit.

I'll know the young man's intentions before he's allowed the shade of my wing.Faeth's tart reply was for both to hear, Are you an honorable soul, young man? Shall I trust you?No lying, now. I can't abide falsehoods.

[Wren]

Sheraz grinned as he came close enough to have a proper look at the dragon, Faeth. She was a pretty thing, delicate and small and yet graceful like a dancer, and so different from the big, heavy bronzes and browns that he’d seen around. He held still as she took a step towards him, reminding himself that she could not hurt him, and looked into her swirling eyes. When she spoke directly to him, however, his eyes widened in surprise. He’d never heard a dragon’s voice before, and the sensation was a strange one. Faeth’s voice was a deep, resonating hum, and because he heard it in his head, and not from external, locatable source, it seemed to have no real direction.

He was thus taken a little aback, when the dragon first spoke to him, but he got used to it quickly and was able to puff his chest out at the criticism. He was used to being described as full of himself, and it was getting to the point where he didn’t even bother arguing. His attitude on the matter had changed from ‘I am not!’ to ‘Yes, and?’ but before he could get over the surprise of hearing Faeth in his head, she was saying something else, and he thought it best not to interrupt. Thus he let her finish speaking before answering her questions.

“Sure you can trust me.” He assured the dragon. She was scrutinising him so closely that he could see the slight texturing of her skin, and he found himself struck by a strange urge to pat her on the head. Usually when someone came so close it was because they were threatening him, and while he knew this was not the case here, his mind still wanted to deal with Faeth the same way he would deal with a human; patting someone on the shoulder was usually a good way of showing them just how unafraid of them he was. It was all bravado, but then a prisoner’s life seemed to revolve around bravado.

He resisted the urge, of course, and continued, “I’ll look after my little hatchling better than anyone, you can count on it.” He smiled at the green head. Sheraz was not known for his honesty, but in this case he truly meant what he said. He wasn’t going to go through all the trouble of lessons and touchings only to neglect his dragon if and when he got one. He was also looking forward to the companionship; he’d heard riders describe the bond they felt with their dragons as stronger than any other imaginable. Whether or not Sheraz would be able to keep his promises, regardless of much he intended to, remained to be seen, however.

[lithle]

Faeth relaxed, pulling back and once again resting her head on her forelegs. Whatever she'd been seeking, she'd either seen it, or decided it wasn't there to be found. After a moment, she rolled slightly to her side, raising a wing to create a patch of shade.

Tell the boy he may sit, Mine. Faeth instructed, apparently no longer interested in communicating directly. Her eyes whirled a quite pleasant green, and her almost aggressive attitude of only seconds before was now neatly veiled, as if it'd never risen up in the first place.

L'vey sat, patting the ground beside him. "Faeth can be very forward," he stated, not an apology, but an explanation of sorts, "And she's quite worried about the hatching. Please, sit."

You are the one that worries, mine. Faeth replied, primly. I simply seek to support Semith during such a difficult time.

L'vey only smiled in response, stroking the dragon's hide affectionately, before picking up the waterskin he'd left sitting beside her and holding it out toward Sheraz, "Everything will change if you impress," he said, softly, "And I do not mean the color of your uniform. I wonder if any of the candidates, on either side of the wall, are prepared for that fact."

[Wren]

Sheraz was not relieved, exactly, when Faeth pulled back, but he was certainly much more relaxed when he didn’t have her muzzle mere inches away. “Huh,” He said in answer to L’vey’s explanation, eyeing the green with his usual curiosity. Dragon intelligence was still something of a mystery to him. Before coming to the Warden’s he’d believed they were about as intelligent as whers, that is to say, not very, though since arriving he’d slowly absorbed the idea that this wasn’t quite right. Now that he’d spoken directly to Faeth, or rather, now that she’d spoken to him, he had to assume that they were pretty smart, though how smart, he still didn’t know.

Regardless, he took up L’vey’s offer and came to sit in the shadow of the dragon’s wing, welcoming the relief from the overpowering heat. He leant back on his hands with his legs extended in front of him, and sighed in contentment. “Ah, that’s better; I hate the summer.” He took the waterskin that the rider offered him with a nod of thanks and took a swig. When L’vey spoke again, Sheraz gave him a quick calculating look: was that a warning. After a moment he put the thought aside and smiled with characteristic good humour. “Well, I hope so; that’s the idea.” He said, chuckling and taking another swig. “Nah, but seriously though, I want everything to change; life’s so boring at the moment.” He yawned, both to emphasise his point and because he felt the urge to. “I want the...” He paused thinking of the right word, “The responsibility; summin’ to look after.” He took one last swig from the waterskin and handed it back to L’vey, very much refreshed.

And that was it, really, at its core. Sheraz was one of those people, who, however obnoxious and annoying he could be, liked to feel as though he was taking care of something. He had is pet dog, Silence, who would usually have been out with him in the fields but was currently recovering from a nasty injury in the barracks, and he liked to look after the more vulnerable prisoners that found themselves at warden’s. A baby dragon though, what better thing to look after than that?

[lithle]

With his back against his dragon, a wing protecting him from the oppressive sun, L'vey looked as relaxed as he'd been since he'd begun talking to Sheraz. Which, in all honesty, wasn't all that relaxed. It wasn't tension, exactly, that kept him from looking at ease. But there was something there, a sense that, even while he sat silently, listening to Sheraz with every sign of interest, part of his mind was worrying away at some dark fear.

Then again, maybe the man was simply grumpy.

When Sheraz held out the waterskin, L'vey took it, refreshing himself before replying to the prisoner's statements. When he did speak, his tone was soft, but also a bit distant, as if his mind had been taken elsewhere by Sheraz's words.

"There is responsibility, yes. But it flows in both directions. You will be responsible for another life, but your dragon will see you as its responsibility. That can be a change for those of us unaccustomed to being looked after. And as you care for a dragon, you must also care for yourself. To be hurt is to hurt your lifemate, to die is to kill your lifemate."

He took another sip from the waterskin, then set it aside. He was quiet, weighing his own words. Was he trying to convince the boy not to stand? No, that wasn't it. He was trying to make him understand that a dragon was not a firelizard, was not a child. A dragon was a second heart, beating beside your own. A dragon was--

But, no. He'd only puzzle the poor man. Sheraz would impress, and in so doing, understand. Or he'd be left standing, never to know what he'd missed. Kinder that way, how terrible to know what it was to have a dragon and be left without one.

Well, nevermind. Why try to describe vision to the blind? "But it is not something easily understood by one who is not already experiencing it. I apologize. I am likely only confusing you."

[Wren]

Sheraz listened to L’vey’s explanation, not with complete understanding it was true, but certainly with interest. He was a smart guy, for all his short-comings, and he liked to learn as much as he could. He still wasn’t quite sure what to make of L’vey; it seemed that his heart was in the right place, but he could do with lightening up a bit. It was as if, to the rider, everything was a matter of life or death. Sheraz wondered when he’d last cracked a joke.

Whatever, to each his own, and if L’vey liked being the way he was, Sheraz wasn’t going to begrudge him it. Still, the prisoner couldn’t help but tease a little if indirectly. “Well, I’ll try not to hurt myself or die then.” He said, raising his eyebrows and chuckling a little; it certainly was not his intention to keel over any time soon, dragon or no. But he knew what L’vey was trying to say; the rider was telling him that, if he did Impress, he would have to stay out of trouble, and Sheraz was fine with that. He was through his reckless teenager phase, and he was quite prepared to be a good boy to keep his dragon safe. Whatever L’vey might say, he didn’t think he could help but harbour protective instincts towards his possible future lifemate.

“Nah, it’s okay,” Sheraz said when the rider apologised for confusing him. “I want to know loads before the hatching, so I kinda’ know what to do after I get a baby dragon” (there was no if in Sheraz’s mind, he thought too much of himself for that). He tipped his head to the side to look up at Faeth, then returned his gaze to L’vey. “What’s it like, Impressing? Tell me all about it?”

[lithle]

No, L'vey didn't tell jokes. If Sheraz had inquired on that subject, L'vey would have answered, very seriously, that he couldn't recall having ever done such a thing. He had, of course. There'd been a time, when he'd been a child, that he had been more lighthearted. Not, in fact, significantly so, but he'd smiled more.

The world hadn't seemed so terrifying. He hadn't needed, so badly, to believe in things.

Long ago. Before the Healing Hall. Before he'd known death, seen what Dust could do to a person's humanity. Before Faeth.

Faeth.

Sheraz had asked him about Impression, and, expression gentling into what was clearly a true smile, the greenrider looked up at his dragon, remembering.

"There are some who say it's like falling in love," he answered, his always quiet voice distant with memory. "It isn't. But, it's a little like the idea of falling in love. The ideal. There's euphoria and an awareness-- a knowledge that you're part of something, something better than just you. And you always will be. Dragons make us better than we are."

That last bit, was, admittedly, L'vey's own little bit of philosophy. But it was truth as he knew it. He always told the truth, as he knew it. If it wasn't the same truth that the rest of Pern understood, it was only because he'd yet to successfully talk them around to his way of thinking. He'd keep trying.

"When something loves you, is loyal to you so unconditionally, it's only natural to try and live up to that image."