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 Posted: Thu Sep 29, 2011 11:59 am
Feeling down about losing his brief, brittle connection with Pahlan-- P'lan, now-- was unacceptable. It was part jealousy, of course, which was fine, but it was the other part that irritated Jordan the most. The part that was unhappy P'lan had Impressed because that meant his technically closest friend at the weyr had just broken all ties with him. Candidates and Weyrlings rarely interacted, unless they were siblings or best friends from childhood or something ridiculously close. Two-week long friendships or Candidate-born friendships, even, did not survive Impression in Jordan's experience.
It bothered him more that despite all of his self-assurances that he wasn't really bothered by it, he was. He was bothered. Jordan was a loner, but he was generally a loner with someone. Even at Benden he'd found ways to enjoy his space with lots of people around, yet still had places to go when he really couldn't stand being near people anymore-- oooor had irritated those he'd been with and needed to hunker down until their tempers cooled off. That had only happened once or twice, though.
Either way, Jordan did, when all was said and done, like people. In addition, though he'd never admit it aloud, a dragon-- other than being a way to escape the Hold where he had to hide what he was and had been forced to abandon his dreams of Weaving-- was a way of being indeliably bound to someone so that he could be alone without being alone. Dragon and rider could be separate, but they were always together in mind, and they would always support each other, no matter what choices or foibles one or the other made. The dragon-rider bond would be a chance he was unlikely to have romantically, since weyrmates tended to be scarce (especially between non-riders and a rider, which was what it looked like Jordan was eventually going to have to resort to), outside the weyr his personal preferences weren't supported, and Jordan as a person was... well, not the time for long entanglements, both via his preference and generally the other person's. He was good for a good time or two, but generally that was it.
He paused outside the Candidate Barracks. He hated puzzling out himself about as much as he loved solving other people. His footsteps were a bit faster, and a bit harsher, as he entered the room, gathered his things with a look that promised he would not welcome interruptions from the one or two other boys actually in the room, and then walked back out of the room and up the hallway, intent on getting a bath before dinner.
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Posted: Thu Sep 29, 2011 3:08 pm
The hatching feast had been a week ago, and P'lan was settling into the life of a Weyrling. It was rough— late nights, he was used to those. There were very few reasons to notice the sun's setting when you were deep in the hold and lit mostly by forge than anything else. This was...military. The life of a warrior, or at least that of a warrior-in-training.
Get up before dawn, brush teeth, get dressed, bathe if there's time and don't forget to make your bed! The sun rises and it's time to oil Demanth and give her a good scratch, then it's feeding time followed by a wash and more oiling. Then training; laps and packing firestone into sacks, then practice tossing the laden sacks until P'lan's arms wanted to drop out of their sockets. By then it was late evening and if anyone's dragon was awake, they were hungry again. Regardless, it was ostensibly a free hour or so, but in reality was often taken up by "voluntary" drills or still more oiling before he dropped to sleep like the dead for a few hours before doing it all again.
Maybe it got easier with time— the grown dragonriders didn't seem this exhausted all the time. If they were, how could they fly thread?
Still, it was a rare free hour that found P'lan free and hungry at just the hour convenient to taking a jog down to the lower caverns where the Candidate barracks were. The caves seemed so small now, as used as he was becoming to the dragon-high ceilings and dragon-sized doors. He paused in the mess room with a bowl and had ladled out himself a steaming bowl of rich stew. P'lan had just finished stuffing his belly and was wandering through what seemed like the haunts of a lifetime ago when he spotted a familiar face.
Should he? Demanth roused from her drowsing long enough to chuckle at him, Go on, he's your friend isn't he? I'm sure he'll be happy to meet you again.
She interrupted herself with a yawn that carried into her mental tone and settle back into a comfortable curl that he could feel all the way across the Bowl.
...should....bring him by sometime....sure he's charming, if you like him...
"Jordan!" He grinned without really realizing that his almost-friend might not be as pleased as he was to see him again.
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Posted: Sat Oct 01, 2011 6:40 pm
Jordan looked up at the voice and his eyes darted up and down P'lan's body as the boy approached. What a coincidence. It was almost as if his thoughts had summoned him. Either way, the smile P'lan was wearing was broad enough to encompass Jordan as well, but the brunette felt a stab of irritation again that he tried to suppress. He'd at least get out of the likely short and distantly polite chit-chat unscathed.
He waited for P'lan to get closer before he responded in a less than thrilled tone of voice, "P'lan."
Whatever the other boy had to say, let him work for it.
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