A Fresh Start

Writers: Estelle
Date Posted: 9th August 2018

Characters: L'keri, A'ten
Description: L'keri prepares to travel to Dragonsfall Weyr
Location: Elsewhere on Pern
Date: month 6, day 3 of Turn 9

L'keri

}: Rider, you must wake. :{

L'keri opened one eye, cautiously, and groaned. A beam of bright morning
sunlight stabbed through the half-open drapes that screened his sleeping
area from the rest of the weyr. His head was pounding like a harper's
drum, his mouth tasted of sour wine and his eyes were dry and gritty.
Why had he ever chosen a dawn-facing weyr? And why was he awake at this
hour? Did they have a drill? He hadn't missed a drill yet, which was
something to hold on to.

}: We have to go. :{

"Huh?" He raised his head an inch, then collapsed into the pillow again.
Memories were slowly starting to gather, like fragments of glass fitting
together into a shattered mirror. There had been a party. A party in his
honour, although he had to admit that honour hadn't had much to do with
it. There had been ale, and wine, and drinking games, and a girl from
the Lower Caverns who was very sorry to see him depart, and had wanted
to give him a proper send-off...

**Oh. That.** He was leaving. His transfer papers had come through, and
he and Rhalith were due to depart today.

L'keri groaned again and pulled the pillow over his head. He stretched
out an arm, but found nothing but cool, empty sheets. The girl must have
left for her duties, and the staff would be coming to clean out his weyr
before long. He couldn't let them find it in disorder, with a hungover
dragonrider still in bed; that wouldn't be fair. He had to get up.

It had been a good night, though, he thought with defiant pride, as he
pushed himself to a sitting position and rested his aching head in his
hands. He'd drunk half his wingmates under the table, and then he'd
jumped up on that table and sung an extremely rude song with his
Wingleader's name in it to those that were still conscious. In fact,
although his memory was a bit hazy by that point in the evening, he
thought it had ended with him dropping his trousers and displaying his
backside to a group of senior bronzeriders, and they hadn't been able to
do a thing about it, because he was leaving in the morning and they'd -
hopefully - never set eyes on each other again.

Remembering the expressions on their faces was enough to keep him warm
through the freezing months of the Dragonsfall winter.

Shells, he hadn't been that drunk since they'd got the news about the
earthquake...

Slowly, he got to his feet, sorted through the scattered clothes and
half-packed bags for something clean, and headed for the communal
bathing room. Everything would seem better after a hot bath.

An hour or so later, most of the bags were heaped in a corner of the
weyr, the bed had been stripped and the furnishings he wasn't taken had
been piled up, ready to be returned to the stores. There hadn't been
very much; L'keri wasn't the sort to accumulate keepsakes. Although he
couldn't exactly say he felt well, the headache had abated enough that
he could face the daylight and the ride to Dragonsfall without feeling
overly nauseous.

Wearily, he lifted his riding straps from their peg and carried them out
to Rhalith, who had left the couch and was curled up outside on his
ledge, looking out over the Weyr as if he was taking in the view for the
last time.

**We can come back, you know. It's only a jump /between/.**

}: I am not sure that's such a good idea. :{ Rhalith unfurled himself so
that his rider could fit the straps.

**Perhaps not for a while,** L'keri agreed, thinking of the
bronzeriders, and his performance last night.

}: The young one is here, :{ the brown said. L'keri glanced over his
shoulder and saw his son, Arten, leaning against the rock wall at the
opening to the weyr with a resentful look on his face.

"Oh - good, you're ready. Have you said goodbye to your foster mother?"

Arten shrugged and kicked the bag of clothes at his feet with the toe of
his boot.

"Where's Eluri?"

The boy jerked a thumb towards the interior of the weyr.

"Well, go and get her. We're leaving shortly." L'keri had turned to lift
the straps over Rhalith's lowered head, but glanced over his shoulder to
see that Arten hadn't moved. "What, you're not talking to me?"

"I don't want to go."

"Well, we can't stay here," L'keri said, fastening the straps. "I've
been transferred. I'm sorry if it doesn't suit you, but that's just how
it is."

"_You_ can't stay here. Eluri and I haven't done anything wrong."

"I haven't done anything wrong either, Arten. The Weyrleader just
thought I'd be better off at Dragonsfall, that's all."

"Haven't you? I saw you last night." Arten shot him a look of contempt.
"It was embarrassing."

The brownrider closed his eyes. "You're too young to understand...and
what were you doing up that late, anyway? I ought to have a word with
your foster mother."

"Too late. She's not my foster mother any more." Arten kicked his bag
again. "It's not fair. I've got friends here. We were going to all be
Candidates together, and then weyrlings, and then Jentran was going to
be Weyrleader and I was going to be his Wingsecond...and then you ruined
it. As usual." He raised his head and glared at his father with
undisguised venom. "I hate you."

L'keri tightened the strap with a violent jerk that even Rhalith
noticed. Taking a deep breath, he apologised silently to his dragon.
"You can hate me all you want, but if I've done one decent thing since
we left River Bluff, it's keeping you and your sister with me so you'd
have at least one blood relative in your lives."

"In our lives?" Arten shot him an incredulous look. "You hardly ever
spend time with either of us. If you aren't drinking with your
wingmates, you're on punishment duties for being an idiot while you were
drunk. Even the Wingleaders' kids see more of their fathers than we do."

"That's not true. I took you both swimming..."

"That was months ago. While we were there, you ignored us and spent the
whole time trying to flirt with some woman who giggled like a twittering
firelizard. Eluri and I could have drowned and you wouldn't have noticed."

"Arten!" L'keri turned away from securing the bags to Rhalith's straps,
his voice rising in frustration. "That's an awful thing to say."

"But it's true, isn't it? You don't care about us." Tears pricked at the
boy's eyes.

"I do care about you. I'm just not the type of man who rushes back from
every drill and duty to spend time wiping runny noses and playing silly
games." The brownrider turned back to his dragon. "We're not going to
discuss this any more. You're coming to Dragonsfall, whether you like it
or not. Stop whining and help your sister get into her riding gear."

"I'm not whining! How would you like to be picked up and dumped in some
place you don't know, thousands of miles away from all of your friends?"
Arten demanded.

"Yes, well, this isn't my choice, either," L'keri muttered. He'd rather
have been offered almost any other Weyr as a destination, for many
reasons, but hadn't exactly been in a position to be choosy.

Sensing the slight softening in his manner, Arten pressed his advantage.
"Please. I can stay here with my foster mother. You won't have to bother
about me any more..."

"Is that what you think I want?" Even if, when he remembered that he
ought to spend time with the children, it was usually rushed and
inadequate...they had still always been together, despite everything
that had happened. "I'm not going to tell you again. Go and get your
sister."

"Fine. But when I get out of harper classes, I'm going to ask to come
back here, and I don't care if I never see you again!"

The boy stormed back into the empty weyr, leaving L'keri alone on the
ledge with Rhalith, the brown's whirling eyes flecked with the yellow of
worry.

**He doesn't mean it.** He rested a hand on the warm hide, fighting down
a wave of anger and resentment. **He's just upset about the move. When
he's made new friends, he'll want to stay.** Maybe, when he got to
Dragonsfall, he could try and do more to be a good father to the
children. If only they didn't remind him, in their different ways, of
every mistake he'd made, and all he'd lost.

Last updated on the August 21st 2018

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A Fresh Start