Defending Their Honor

Writers: Anika, Avery, Heather
Date Posted: 1st November 2014

Characters: Z'then, Ilyssia, D'kere
Description: Zethen steps in when a bully is hassling Ilyssia and a younger candidate.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 10, day 1 of Turn 7
Notes: Mentioned: J'darin
NPC: Slif, Devrist

Ilyssia

"I think you should just move along," Ilyssia said coldly to the stocky
candidate towering over a boy at least four turns his junior if not more.
The arrogant candidate was weyrbred and had demonstrated a definite
prejudice, bordering on disdain, for the candidates searched outside the
Weyr. Ilyssia and Devrist had the misfortune of running into him close
to the weyrling barracks during their free time. He had a couple of
cronies with him as he often did and he liked to show off by picking on
the new arrivals.

"Ya gonna hide behind a girl's skirts?" Slif demanded of the slender boy.
"What kind o' dragon rider d'ya think you'll make?"

"I'm not wearing skirts," Ilyssia mentioned derisively. She had
immediately taken to wearing the garb the weyrlings favored. "And he was
Searched, so I imagine he'll do just fine."

"Shows what you know. Everyone knows that weyrbred make the best
dragonriders." With a leer, the brawny candidate added, "Hope you Impress,
though. I'd like my dragon to catch yours in a mating flight."

"That could be tricky if you Impress green," the girl pointed out, her blue
green eyes sparkling with humor.

The bulky youth scowled when her valid point brought a laugh from even his
own compatriots. "Maybe you'd like to get some practice now. That's
encouraged here at the Weyr you know," Slif suggested taking a menacing
step towards Ilyssia.

And Zethen was there, rounding the corner with a scowl on his face. He'd
heard Slif's sneer from the other corridor, and had sped up to intervene.
The other Candidate had wherry dung for brains, and thought he was better
then him and his twin. Well he was wrong.

"What's the matter, your latest conquest realize she could do better than
you?" he snapped.

"This is none of yer business, farmer," Slif growled, furious that the
other candidate had guessed the truth of the matter. He couldn't stand the
twins, who had been standing nearly as long as himself.

Zethen pulled himself up and squared his shoulders, trying to draw on some
of his twin Ezthar's confidence. He would know how to handle these
boys...but he wasn't here and Zethen was, so it was his job.

"It is my business now," he said, but his voice wavered a little. "Go away."

"You gonna make me?" Slif demanded menacingly. He'd noticed that
Zethen didn't exude the same self-assurance as his brother, not to
mention he outweighed the other candidate by a fair amount, though
Zethen was several fingertips taller.

"Oh, for Faranth's sake!" Ilyssia exclaimed, "This is ridiculous!
What are you, ten turns old, Slif?"

"Old enough to teach _you_ a thing or two!" he shot back suggestively.
Then his beady eyes narrowed. "Or d'ya already find a teacher?" He
looked at Zethen and smirked. "A timid farm boy can't teach nuthin'
like a weyrbred man."

"You're not trying to help her, you're just being mean because you can."
Zethen snapped back. "And what about you being mean to poor Devrist, huh?"

Slif turned his attention back to the youngest candidate, who had
shrunk back hoping to avoid further notice. "Him? He's afraid of his own
shadow. He needs to toughen up if he's gonna make it at the Weyr."

"What he needs or doesn't need is none of _your_ concern," Ilyssia pointed
out, hating to see the fear and shame in Devrist's eyes. She turned to
Zethen. "You've been here awhile. Does the Weyrlingmaster approve of this
kind of _help_?"

"No, he doesn't," Zethen said. "J'darin and D'kere would have words with
you about that if you did. The Weyr's about respecting people's choices.
Maybe if you opened your ears instead of your mouth sometimes, you'd know
that."

Slif's hands balled up into fists at his sides and his face turned red with
rage, but his companions were beginning to look uncomfortable. One of them
attempted to pull the angry candidate away. A little sport with a timid
boy from a Hold was one thing but this was sizing up to a potential fight
and that would land them in hot water with the Weyrlingmaster. Slif tore
his arm from his friend's grip and stepped into Zethen's personal space.

"Sometime we're gonna finish this,farmer," he growled.

Zethen bit down on the inside of his lower lip, the pain shocking him to
alertness. "You want to finish it right now, whersnot?"

He'd get hit. He'd lose the fight. He'd get in trouble. But so would Slif,
and that would keep him from hurting anybody else. So he'd be willing to
do this.

(And it would make his brother proud.)

"He's not worth it, Zethen," Ilyssia murmered urgently. She didn't know
the other candidate really, other than his name. The girl hadn't been at
the Weyr long and he'd always been very quiet, but he had been good enough
to intervene and she didn't want to see him get hurt or in trouble.

"Stay outta this, trader girl," Slif warned.

"B-b-but it's alm-most t-time for b-barracks inspection," Devrist stuttered.

Zethen risked a quick glance at Ilyssia. "If he wants to throw the first
punch he can, but then it comes down on his head." Plain and simple logic,
even if it led to pain.

An evil grin played on Slif's face as he stepped forward to put both his hands
on Zethen's chest and offer a powerful shove. "So ya think yer man enough
to take me, farmer?"

"Stop!" Illysia tried to step between them but Slif gave her a powerful
shove with his left arm and then, anticipating a move from Zethan, swung
round with his right fist to hit Zethen in the face.

With a squeak Devrist disappeared down the corridor.

Zethen lifted his arm towards the incoming blow but he wasn't fast enough
to deflect it, just to catch it on his arm instead of on his nose. It was
a hell of a blow and his arm ached immediately, reinforcing that he didn't
want to take that to his face. It would have broken his nose.

He swung his fist back at Slif, hoping he'd get the other man in the ear.
Those hits hurt, maybe it'd disorient him.

Slif was caught off guard when his first swing did not connect as he'd
expected and Zethen's return blow caught him in the side of the head,
making his ears ring. With a shake of his head, he plowed forward
using his bulk to force the leaner candidate into the wall and
followed with a punch to his midsection, albeit not as solid as he'd
like because he'd not regained his equilibrium.

Zethen let out a loud 'oof' as his back smacked the wall and a fist met
his stomach. That hurt! He brought his knee up, aiming between Slif's
legs. Maybe he could stop this before it got too far. Maybe someone else
was going to get help.

Familiar with the move, Slif was quick to protect himself, grunting as
Zethen's knee connected with his thigh instead causing the muscle to
tense painfully. He stumbled back a step, having difficulty putting
weight on his leg with his muscle spasming painfully. Not wanting the
taller young man to take the advantage, he gritted his teeth and aimed
a punch for his jaw.

Having come to her feet, Ilyssia watched in horror as the big brute
attacked Zethen. She wondered if she should go for help but wasn't
sure if she dare leave Zethen alone. One of Slif's friends had
disappeared, obviously not wanting anything to do with the negative
attention this fight might bring. The other looked ready to bolt as
well. Dare she hope that Devrist would return with reinforcements?

Zethen's head smacked into the wall from the jaw strike and he made a
sound of pain. Shaffit and shells, he was going to be seeing stars for
three whole days like this. He hadn't realized how outmatched he was. He
lowered his head and headbutted Slif's face, a last-ditch attempt.

Pain exploded across Slif's face and he grabbed his now bloodied nose,
falling to one knee, unable to maintain his balance with the
combination of this newest injury and his cramped leg. His head was
swimming and he took several deep breaths to try to quell the
dizziness.

"Hey!" The barked command cut through the air as D'kere strode onto
the scene, a quivering Devrist behind him and obviously winded from
how quickly he had scampered to get the Weyrlingmaster's Second.

D'kere assessed the situation as only an outsider could. He had two
boys bloodied and winded, and then a startled girl standing nearby.
Had they been fighting over her? It was a silly enough thing to fight
about but common enough among the hormonal Candidates.

"Ethzar... Zethen.. Whichever one you are!" D'kere never could tell
the twins apart, apparently one had darker hair but D'kere always
forgot which one. He stepped between the two Candidates, "What is
going on here?" He looked between them, his blue eyes hard as flint as
he demanded an explanation.

Zethen looked down as the Weyrlingmaster's Second gave him a hard
look. "Zethen, sir. I walked 'round the corner to see Slif bullying
Devrist. Ilyssia said something and he told her something rude. It
came to blows. But I was defending both their honor!"

"Weren't doin' nut'in but ta'lkin', sir. Holder's get offended _way_
too easy. Then, _he_ came along stickin' 'is nose in, makin'
somethin' outta nuthin'," Slif attempted to defend himself but his
nose injury made talking very difficult.

"Zethen's telling the truth, sir," Ilyssia said stepping forward with
determination. "Slif was bullying Devrist and when I told him to move
on he said some stuff to me." She shrugged at that, having dealt with
worse. "Zethen stepped in and he and Slif had words. Slif pushed
Zethan _and_ he threw the first punch, too."

D'kere held up a hand to staunch the flow of words from Ilyssia. Bad
blood between holder and weyrbred Candidates, and Weyrlings, was not
that uncommon and it often took a few punches to the head in both
directions before they got over it. As much as the Weyrlingmaster's
Second appreciate the guts it had probably taken for Zethen to stand
up to Slif, fighting could not be tolerated in any form.

"Thank you, Ilyssia, you are dismissed. Please see Devrist back to the
barracks. Zethen, Slif, you can come with me to my office."

"Yes, sir," the girl nodded her head, wishing their were more she
could do for Zethen who was undoubtedly in trouble. She motioned for
Devrist and the two hurried to obey D'kere's instructions.

"Let's go fellas. We're going to talk about why we have a no-fighting
rule and then we're going to discuss how long you both will have
latrine duties." D'kere said as he opened his arms and shepherded the
two boys toward his office.

Last updated on the November 16th 2014

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Defending Their Honor