Night Owls (Siata/sk)

[giftwrapped]

Lucidity felt strange.

How had it been three months since the incident, three months since Nicoth had blinked between and been lost forever. I'saac wasn't sure how he had survived three months without the dragon's constant presence in his mind. But he had done it, and he was spending maybe a third of his time lucid, and very little of that actively suicidal. He felt almost human again, at times. It was almost frightening to him.

C'ross had suggested to him that he pick up a hobby, something to keep his body busy and his mind distracted beyond sitting staring blankly into the distance. I'saac had resisted, initially. The fog of death, his half-dead state, hadn't been particularly conducive to anything I'saac was good at. He couldn't guard anymore; it would have been too easy to take advantage of him. And...well...there had been plenty of times where the idea of allowing him near the heavy tools that the smiths used had made C'ross actually shudder.

But he was getting better. Little by little, day by day, it was getting to the point where I'saac could be trusted alone. It meant C'ross could sleep sometimes.

I'saac still didn't sleep. And it was one of these moments, with C'ross passed out in the exhausted heap that had become typical for the man since the incident, that I'saac found himself harboring the insatiable desire to wander. He couldn't stay still. He needed to do something. And so he woke Merceth, told the dragon that he was going for a walk. If he had said it a few weeks before, Merceth would have restrained him, or at least woken C'ross. As it stood now, the dragon let him go.

He walked with a purpose this time, strolling at a leisurely pace toward the river. There were always crafters awake, and the presence of people helped. He missed company, somewhat, but other dragonriders...he could barely deal with anyone other than C'ross if they came in contact with dragons. But Crafters were different. And the forge was friendly. It felt...not like home, but it felt familiar. Iron and fire smelled like the life he had led before Nicoth. The building was usually open, door unlocked even if the fires weren't stoked, but he was hoping there would be someone at work. He could help, if nothing else. And if worse came to worse, they could keep him from forgetting himself and sticking his head in the forge.

"Hello...?"

[nozomi]

Late at night sort of became Siata's specialty. The nights meant thick darkness and mostly silence. She could make her own sounds in the forge, do what she wanted, as being a highly active wherhandler did not exactly rank high on most Smithcrafters lifestyles. In those three months after the breakout, she'd become near obsessive in her work, burying herself more into Siatask and her job, the softened metal, the harsh clangs of reshaping and beauty.

Genavive dead, by one of the prisoners. Siata'd been off with some drudge, enjoying herself, and Genavive died. And Jordyn, that bastard, he helped with it all because the Mindhealer threatened Siata.

She always thought that making things helped with the destruction of others. And, so deeply into that she was, squirreled away in the back room of the forge, that when I'saac walked in that she didn't notice. Perhaps not so odd, then. I'saacs weyrmate received the same situation before, after all. No - large, ugly Siatask was the one to first take notice of I'saac. Siata busy somewhere in that back, dirty and smudged, possibly half-naked, it all meant that Siatask stood guard.

The green hoisted herself up on her short legs, an immediate rumble of dissatisfaction pouring from her parted lips. Her eyes rang with the sharp edge of red, and her hackles rose. Siatask refused to let her guard down after the breakout. Who is? Not the most eloquent of beasts, Siatask somehow managed to keep the acid bite from her tone - only a menacing hiss of a mindvoice. Siatask's not say man come.

Had Siata been present and listening, doubtless there'd be a surge of pride through her at the sight of her wher not attacking this strange man on sight. Semi-sight. Siatask crept closer, though her growling had quieted.

[giftwrapped]

Oh, Faranth! He hadn't been expecting a wher! I'saac took a sharp step backwards at the rumble in the green's voice, ducking his head and doing everything he could to make himself nonthreatening. Faranth, he knew next to nothing about the damn creatures, how was he supposed to respond? "Hey, hey," he said softly, crouching down to the level of the wher and holding out a hand. "I'm not doing anything, pretty girl." She was a green, pretty girl was a good response, right? Faranth, did whers know everyone considered them the ugly spawn of dragons? And this wher was fairly ugly even by those standards.

"I'm just a visitor," he answered quietly. "Used to be a smith a long time ago. I come by the forge a'times." Carefully, slowly, he extended a hand, holding long fingers slightly splayed for the wher to sniff. He was trusting the creature (large, right? definitely close to full-grown, if not full-grown, as far as he could tell) not to bite his hand off in rage. "Siatask?" he asked, tilting his head slightly. Siatask. Which meant that the handler would be...ahh, that would be Siata, wouldn't it? I'saac had been at Warden's long enough to learn faces and names. So this was Siata the smith-turned-handler. The one who was unusually fond of C'ross, if he wasn't mistaken.

He wasn't sure what the wher felt, touching his mind. Could she sense the emptiness? The coldness where there used to be a dragon? He didn't know, but he flinched away from the possibility. It...wasn't like everyone in the weyr wouldn't know already, but nonetheless, the last thing he wanted was the pity of a wher. "I wouldn't mind helping Siatask's," he remarked softly. "Does she need any help?"

[nozomi]

What the.

The tall hairy two legged non-Siatask's crouched down and. I'saac, in his adorable craziness, baffled the thick-set wher. The growling stopped as quickly as it started, and when that hand came out, Siatask shoved her head right against it. Perhaps in all his lack of knowledge of whers, I'saac did not know most whers had horrid breath. Fortunately for him and his hand, Siata had a deep distaste for things that smelled bad enough for her to smell them and took a particular glee in being fastidious with her girls teeth-brushing and hygiene.

It also meant that when she licked at his fingers, he would not smell of rotting meat for the better part of a month.

Big Ugly! Big Ugly stupid. Ugly. Big. For a girl that preferred the smaller menfolk, that whole being big thing was just a shame. Waste of a man wher. Not being a dragon, Siatask did not know. What would she know what a dragonless man felt like? She felt something missing. Not Big Ugly's. Different. Nothing?

Then, a pause, a snort. Siatask's need help. Always. Bad things happen, Siatask's work.

[giftwrapped]

She licked him! Well, that was a good sign, right? Idly, I'saac reached out after that, aiming to scratch those ugly eyeridges. "Good girl," he murmured, as if the creature was some sort of a firelizard he was training. Good girl not biting him. He was pleased. He withdrew his hand after a moment, wiping the saliva off on the leg of his pants, but before long he was back to scratching her. The female voice in his head might have been unsettling at a different time, but something about the way the voice sounded, and the way whers spoke, meant that even if the speech in his head felt "green," it wasn't in a way that hurt.

"Big Ugly...?" I'saac's mild confusion turned into moderate confusion, and he paused in his scratching of the wher, tilting his head at her in curiosity. There was some sort of logic in the wher's speech, and he couldn't place it - for a moment. Then a conversation from a long time ago, before the Incident, bloomed in his mind. Big Ugly - she was talking about Merceth. "No, I'm not Merceth's," he agreed with a little smile. "But it's close enough." And there was that perplexed wher voice, pointing at the thing he was missing. "Nothing," he agreed softly, and his amusement turned somber. "I used to have a little green ugly. But nothing now."

For a moment, his voice caught, but he forced the emotion away. He wasn't going to cry in front of a wher - that was ridiculous. And anyways, Siata needed help in the forge, was what he was hearing. There were other things in the wher's voice, but he couldn't understand her speech or her logic well enough to fully "get" what she was saying to him, so he focused on the bits he did understand. "Well...I can help Siatask's," he said, reaching down to scratch Siatask under the chin. "Or I can just stay here and keep an eye on you. Make sure you don't eat anyone."

[nozomi]

He scritched her. Siatask crooned, a low noise, and she leaned into each and every one of those delightful showers of affection. The only male she didn't hate entirely disliked her, but this one! He poured all of this physical pettings and boldness to her, was unafraid of the thick wher. She pushed closer to him even when his voice hitched in such sadness. Another croon from her, and she raised her chin for him, as he'd begun to talk about her handler.

Green is good. Better. Better then what, one may think. Better then anything, in Siatask's opinion. Still, Siatask nuzzled at his arm, her rump hitting the ground without much more ado. Best. Nothing not good. Small Not Ugly get something. Siatask says so. Siatask's!

The last word was said sharper, thrown at her handler. Only a few seconds later, the half-awake Smithcrafter stumbled out from the room, dark smudges under her unders, hair shorter than usual. Eyebrows? Forget it, gone save for a faint dusting of dark almost-hair. She smiled at I'saac anyway, quick and bright. She'd seen him before! Knew his name, if only because she'd caught glimpses - he was the handsome bronzerider's man.

And the dragonless man. She'd heard that too.

Siata's smile didn't waver. "Well! I go to the back for five minutes and my girl is cheating on me. How about that for loyalty, Siatask. Jeez."

Something Man scratch. Siatask's busy. Siatask's boring. Siata made a face at her unfaithful wher, unaffected by the words due to the underlying murmur of love in Siatask's tone. Something Man help Siatask's. Or watch Siatask, Siatask not eat.

"You've wooed my savage beauty with some pets? I'm impressed. She's near ripped some people apart. You are - I'saac? Right? What can I do for you, handsome? Something small and pretty, something big and not so pretty?"

Siatask's so darling, Siatask's no listen. Siatask huffed, and nudged her face again at I'saac's arm. Tell Siatask's. Not listen to Siatask. Bad handler. Might eat.

[giftwrapped]

His fingers moved from under her chin to her chest, scratching the space between her forelegs like he would a good-natured runnerbeast or a large canine. Whers, he had decided, weren't much like the dragons they were descended from. They were more like canines. Big, dangerous canines that Impressed, but he had never met a dragon so determined to lean and ask for more scritchies the way Siatask was. Those long engineer's fingers moved from chest to shoulder, and I'saac was still busy moving his way toward bellyscratches when Siata finally spoke.

For a moment, he was tense, head jerking up and the entire line of his shoulders changing - but then he realized who was speaking to him and settled again, falling back into a looser stance and allowing himself to be consumed with the feeling of wherhide under his fingers. Then, composed, he gave a bashful shrug, tilting his eyes up and giving Siata a smile that was tentative at best. "I'saac, yeah," he answered softly. Siata's speech pattern brought a little smile to the man's face. Oh, honey. There were so many reasons the words were funny, but none of them were worth mentioning. "And you're Siata. And this is Siatask." Who was nudging him.

"Okay, okay, you," he said tolerantly, turning briefly back to Siatask and giving her a brisk, slightly aggressive rubdown on the neck and shoulders. "Now go help Siatask's, hmm?" he added, lapsing into the wher's speech patterns with an ease that might have surprised others. But I'saac was a sponge now, occasionally an empty cup waiting to be filled with - whatever. At the moment, that 'whatever' was wher. And he turned to Siata with a smile that was a bit more cheerful. "Not looking for anything. Just work. Keep myself busy. It's...."

He shrugged, clumsy. "Something to do with my hands. How can I help you?"

[tuathade]

Things were... better now, than they had been. Starting to go back to normal - not whatever normal had been before, but the new normal, one that they could live with. I'saac no longer needed constant watching - nor did C'ross feel the need to be constantly in his weyrmate's presence. It was safe to let the ex-greenrider do things on his own now; he was still alive after three months, which meant he would probably remain so.

Still, old habits died hard. And more eyes than just C'ross' had been watching I'saac.

With C'ross passed out and blithely unaware, Merceth had simply let I'saac go without a fuss. Harper, on the other hand, was awake and alert the instant that I'saac left the weyr. The little gold flit did not entirely understand the situation. She knew that Hers was upset, because Other Hers - the human who belonged to Hers - was sick or hurt in some way. And sometimes Other Hers wandered off. It was Very Important to make sure that Other Hers did not come to any harm when he went wandering. And Harper hadn't quite gotten the message yet that it was okay to leave I'saac alone now; in her eyes, he was still about as competent at taking care of himself as a new hatchling with no wings.

Her green compatriot Useless was... living up to her name, probably off stealing food somewhere. Nibbling and chirping at C'ross did not elicit any useful response (just muffled cursing and a shoo motion) even when she tried it repeatedly. Harper knew from experience that trying to get Merceth to help accomplished nothing, as the big bronze would just growl at her.

So she took off after I'saac on her own.

It took a little while to find him, as Warden's Weyr was large, and he was already out of sight by the time the little gold set off after him. Still, there were only so many places he could be. He wasn't at the food, he wasn't at the weyr, so maybe he was off with the crafters... and there he was! There was Other Hers, with a wher and a woman she didn't know.

Harper blinked out of between just in front of him, then coiled herself onto I'saac's shoulder - whether he wanted her there or not. Chattering and scolding him like a wayward hatchling, she calmly set about grooming him. There. You have a chaperone, I'saac. Continue as you were.

[nozomi]

Siatask's sad. Prisoners leave. Siatask's Something not wake. Siatask headbutted I'saac again, gently, and rumbled her appreciation of those wonderful, delightful scritches. The ugly beast cuddled closer, her huge head going to rest on his shoulder. That brisk rub-down almost had her limp in delight. This male would be one she liked. One of the few, yes, but one never the less. Siatask's not sleep much. Work. Boring.

Harper appeared, on the other shoulder, and Siatask ignored the interruption. Silly small thing, but not annoying, and she knew Siata's blue curled himself up somewhere in the area. The little dragons were tolerable. It was the larger cousins she couldn't handle.

"Oh." Siata blinked at I'saac and the disturbing sight of her wher being downright affectionate with A. a man, and B. not her. Betrayal! If only she was the jealous sort. But she smiled again anyway, tired, full of teeth, and braced her oil and ash stained hands on her hips. "Fantastic, actually! Ever since - well, everything - the new Overseer bloke has wanted to double up on weapons. Stupid, if you ask me, but hey, it's my job."

She shrugged, and ran a hand through her short hair. "I've been working on the smaller bits of stuff, honestly. It takes more concentration. Can't let your mind wander, you know? Are you good at the delicate things? Because no matter how much I like them, a lot needs to be done with them and it takes a sharding long time to complete anything."

Something Man! Siatask interrupted the conversation with nary a glance. Siata didn't bother to correct her. The wher leaned back, eyes colored with contentment, and her mind voice rang of amusement. Be boring with Siatask's. But! Siatask give. Later. Only say yes. No 'no, Siatask'. Yes?

"Saying yes means you'll probably get meat on your doorstep. Be warned."

[giftwrapped]

Meat on the doorstep...

I'saac stopped in his scratching, weighing his pros and cons carefully as he looked at the green wher. On the one hand, refusing her could quite likely lose him his new green friend. On the other hand, what was C'ross going to say if he woke up to a haunch of herdbeast lying outside the hut one day? ...Merceth would probably eat it, actually. And if he didn't, then Useless and Harper would - oh! As if summoned by his thinking of her, the little gold flitter popped out of between, chattering up a storm and then landing on his shoulder. Absently, he reached up to stroke the little wedge-shaped muzzle, murmuring a gentle, "I'm okay, Harper."

Then his attention turned back to Siatask, and he smiled, giving the wher more rough scritches on the neck and shoulder. "Well, since you aren't really giving me a choice, I guess I'll say yes," he answered, a laugh in his voice. "Whatever you're up to, I'm sure I'll appreciate it, and Big Ugly's will come around." He hoped. But C'ross was...indulging him, recently. Anything that kept I'saac from hurting himself was good, in C'ross's mind. And if befriending a wher somehow helped, then he was fairly certain C'ross would be okay with it. "I'll take my chances," he added to the handler, before giving Siatask one last affectionate pat and straightening up.

"So. What're you working on then, Siata? Weapons, you said?"

Ohhh, C'ross would not love that. But Siata would be watching, so what sort of trouble could I'saac possibly get into? Hell, Siata was as tall as C'ross, and could probably outmuscle him in a fight. Not that I'saac was planning on starting fights, of course, but...well, he was keeping busy. That was really all that mattered at this point. Keeping busy, not destructive, and all that. And there was a flitter on his shoulder to keep an eye on him. That was enough, as far as I'saac was concerned. And if C'ross wanted to come by, he could.

[nozomi]

Siatask, pleased with I'saac's agreement of her massive master plan, sat right down after he stood up. She leaned in to nibble at his shirt anyway, just once, and bumped him with her large head. Good. Now go make small pointy. Will stay. Guard.

"She's good at guarding. Aren't you, beautiful?" Did that big, butch SmithCrafter just coo at her pitted wher as if Siatask were some gorgeous dragon? Of course she did. She even blew Siatask a few kisses before the green trundled to the entrance of the forge to flop down. Her muscular frame stretched out, head poked from the craft building, thick legs curled in.

Siatask distracted, her human turned full attention once more right back to I'saac.

"Weapons! I shouldn't be sounding so shardin' excited over that but, well - they're kind of awesome." Enthusiasm leaked into her voice once more. Siata reached over, as if to take I'saac's wrist, but thought better of it and gestured to a nearby table instead. Bits and bobs decorated the tabletop, but upon closer inspection, one would find very specific odds and ends in very distinct piling pattern. Siata sat at the table and plucked up a small device. A press of her thumb and snnnnkt, out came a small, sharp blade.

She grinned up at I'saac from her perch.

"Small. Looks like a pretty bit of polished metal, right? There's this little button, you push it, out comes the knife. And then there are a few more bits... one's a corkscrew, but I figure if you got stabbed or something, you'd want wine. I would want wine." Siata tapered off, wrinkled her nose, and offered the contraption out to I'saac. "No one wants another breakout, obviously, but it's easy to grab someones sword or dagger and use it. What sort of prisoner would think to take something that small?

"So I've been making them! The first few were hella ugly. Didn't work right. It took a while. But now--" She waved her hand and plucked up a pair of goggles, offering them up to I'saac. "Small and slippery little dimglows, they can catch you in the eye. You game? I could use someone prettier than Siatask to look at through the night."

Impossible.

Brat.

[giftwrapped]

Ffffffffffffff I'saac was in love. Utterly, entirely, head-over-heels in love with Siatask and her abbreviated way of speaking and her short legs and the fact that she had nibbled his shirt oh Faranth, she was wonderful and I'saac wanted to be her friend forever. It was only with a great deal of reluctance that the former-smith former-dragonrider peeled himself away from the green wher and stood up, brushing off his clothes absently in an attempt to make himself look more presentable to her handler. He wasn't sure why he was bothering; Siata was exactly how he remembered the smiths from home being - complete with the missing eyebrows.

That brought the quirk of a smile to his face, and Siata's explanation of the thing she was working on drew his attention immediately. Peculiar little fiddly bits, and a blade in a handle with...oh! Oh, this was wonderful! "You thought this up on your own?" he asked excitedly, already playing with the blade. He'd actually thought a bit about small, nondescript knives before - knives that folded into the handle weren't commonplace but they weren't unheard-of, either...but this one... "How did you think to go about doing it this way?" he asked, thumbing the switch and grinning hugely as the blade again snnnk'd out.

"Spring-loaded? Fussy, but oh Faranth, clever. And with this..." he paused, pulling out the corkscrew and then looking thoughtfully at the knife. "Well...there's all sorts of things you could do with this." He paused for a moment, setting the contraption down to look at the piles. And in a moment, he was scattering them everywhere, combining various blades with other bits and bobs and pieces of handle, picking up one of the jeweller's tools he thought would be best-suited for what he wanted to do and turning to find a seat - oh he didn't need a seat he'd just lean over the table for now! He wanted to take apart the first contraption, he wondered if Siata would let him -

Well, permission didn't matter right now, I'saac was in full-blown engineering mode and the mostly-completed pocketknife was going to have to be a temporary casualty for the sake of SCIENCE. "We could do all sorts of things with this, you realize," he remarked, speaking very quickly and with more animation than he had for what was probably the entire three months he'd been without Nicoth. "A springloaded blade, you could -" there was a soft ping as the aforementioned spring came out of the knife he was cheerfully dismantling, and I'saac blinked, immediately dropping what he was working on and going after it. Goggles and poor Harper were utterly forgotten - this was exciting!

"Faranth - sorry about that!"

[nozomi]

"Me? Think of something like this?" Siata snorted, and she shook her head quickly. Black and cracked hands went up in the (literally) universal 'not me!' pose, though her fingers went wiggle-wiggle-wiggle. She leaned in to watch as I'saac got to work, picking apart her contraption. He ooh'd and aah'd, as was proper for such an awesome thing, and it was only until poor I'saac started to apologize that she continued on whatever it she was about to say. "A girl back at the Hall, she did jewelry of sorts. She was - She was very smart. She figured out the spring-trigger sort of thing, and she taught me what she knew.

"And if you're going to start throwing my shit around, you should put on some goggles, handsome, 'cause otherwise something sharp and unpleasant is going to get in your eye." She rolled her eyes, head shaking with I'saac and his foolishness. Siata stood up with aforementioned goggles, only to plop them atop of I'saac's head. Oh, physical affection and touching came easy to her, quick, friendly, but even she could not find the stupidity in her to go around touching the weyrmate to a huge bronzerider, a newly Dragonless man himself. So it sat there, and she went back into her seat.

She plucked up a bit of spring herself, leaning over to grab some more bits and pieces to start trying to wedge together. Thinking was - bad. She'd brought up her, because I'saac asked a question that could be answered, and she hadn't brought up names. Or the fact she was dead, or why it mattered at all. I'saac lost a dragon. She lost a human. One couldn't be measured the same as the other, could it?

Handling sharp things was never a time to be thinking depressing thoughts - especially not with a man who supposedly lost half of his soul when she had been fooling around with someone, ah, random.

"What sort'a things were you thinking for this? A quick stabbity weapon? Maybe we could make something that has a fork, a knife, and a spoon in it. Flip one out when you need it. Or a springloaded blade. Whatever you can think of, pretty, we'll totally do. What sort of contraptions are in your brain?"

[giftwrapped]

Psssssht goggles. I'saac didn't need goggles. Goggles did nothing!

Nonetheless, he allowed Siata to put the goggles on him, barely even realizing how ridiculous it probably made him look (kids these days! when he had been a whelp in the forge, having excellent vision in both eyes was a mark of ingenuity and intelligence! or possibly goggles, but in I'saac's case it had always been ingenuity and intelligence) because he was too busy looking at the odds and ends and finishing his disassembly of the sample Siata had handed him. He laid each component out carefully, looking over everything and then pushing it all aside.

Okay, he knew how to make one, and he would make that one again later when he fished out a new spring. For now, he simply nodded in response to Siata's reference to the source of the springloaded weapon. "There's all sorts of things you could do with the mechanism," he said. "Blades are obviously the brainless option, but really...." he shrugged for a moment. "The sky's the limit." And belt knives that didn't require a sheath could be so, so useful. Of course, the idea of concealed weaponry...

He picked up a pair of the blades thoughtfully, carefully attaching them both to the mechanism that would springload them. The switch....hmmm. If he were to attach it to both blades so a depression of it here - ah! Both blades leaped out in equal arcs, and I'saac was left holding a double-sided weapon. "I suppose you could alter the mechanism so it presses in, as well," he said thoughtfully. "Though why..." he shrugged, dismantling the thing he had just put together and returning the parts to their piles.

"Realistically, what tools would a guard be most likely to want on something like this, do you think? Blades, obviously, maybe one for slicing and one for sawing? A small piece of steel, for firestarting?" He shrugged after a minute. "I suppose you could do it with almost any small tool set...one for jewellers, one for guards - it would just depend on what you wanted in it. Your friend at the Hall didn't have any ideas for this sort of thing, did she?" He stopped then, holding just a knife blade in his hands and looking at it thoughtfully. There were other ways to conceal the blade, as well. A folding knife, but with more than one handle, perhaps...

He had forgotten what it was like to be immersed in this kind of thought challenge. It felt good.

[nozomi]

This man. C'ross had excellent taste, grabbing the geeky huge thing that was the scruffy I'saac. Had Siata not been utterly fucking absorbed in what the former greenrider had decided to pull off, she'd eye him up once more. Ha! As it were, her eyes grew wide, staring at the double-sided creation that happened to be the best blade ever. Rochelle would've freaked out at seeing what her idea of spring-loading things turned into at the hands of her near-bloodthirsty lover and the new guy in town.

Siata grinned, leaned in closer with her eyes squinted closer. "Quite honestly? I think our guards here would enjoy something to pop open the Benden with. I'd drink too if dragged to this place without wanting to be. You know? I could get you a jewellers set, if you need it. It's a good set. Just no breaking shit, okay?" He wouldn't, not a man so into his Craft, but... The question made her pause, eyes trained on the blade as though studying it despite the sudden rigidity to her body. "No, she didn't. Was still working on the whole idea of things when her part of the Hall burned down. I'll figure it out."

Something Man not ask about friend in Hall. Siatask murmured privately without lifting her head from the doorway she lay at. Friend Something Man's Big Ugly's. No tell Siatask's Siatask say. No good remember.

"What're you thinking about with the knife thing? The guards have to deal with a lot of different situation - think a bigger knife with larger gadgets could be used on the side, the smaller for in the boot or something? Easier to stab someone in the kidney by surprise if they try to run. I'd say mini-projectile weapon but that may lead to guards stabbing themselves."