The Cliches of Fatherhood

Writers: Estelle, Avery
Date Posted: 17th March 2024

Characters: M'gan, R'kehr
Description: M'gan's injury prompts him to have an important talk with R'kehr
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 1, day 19 of Turn 11

M'gan had spent his share of time in the infirmary since the Pass began,
but he'd never learned to endure it with good grace. He'd made a few
half-hearted attempts to persuade the healers to at least let him go
back to his weyr, but no amount of scowling or pleading or claiming he
felt fine had worked. The dull ache in his back and shoulder, despite
the numbweed, were an unwelcome reminder that going /between/ was going
to be out for some time.

At least Isarth wasn't hurt. He had to admit, grudgingly, that they'd
been lucky. His riding gear had taken the brunt of the Thread, and
they'd got /between/ quickly enough that the wounds weren't deep, but if
the angle had been slightly different and it had hit his neck or face -
or his dragon's...

He wondered if he was getting slow, if a younger pair would have got off
unscathed. Not a cheerful thought. But it did clarify some things in his
mind, now that he'd had hours of sitting in an infirmary bed to think
about it.

**Time to stop being an idiot,** he told himself firmly. **Isarth? Could
you ask Thadath if his rider would be able to come and see me, when he
has time? There's something we need to talk about. **

It had been a long day, with rainfall and high winds combining to make
the experience of flying Thread miserable. There'd been a near miss in
his wing - a clump that had slipped through going far too close to
Fadira's green on his left. Thadath had dashed forward, seared it, then
he'd had to get back into position before another one slipped through
their spot and to a wing below. Shards, if Fadira had been hit... she
was one of his clutchmates who had stayed at Dolphin Cove and he would
have hated to lose her.

He'd taken extra time post-Fall to bathe Thadath and rub a soothing oil
on his wing. Somewhere in the rapid maneuvers Thadath had strained his
wing's shoulder joint - not as agile as the greens to make that move, it
had cost more. If it wasn't better by tomorrow or the next day, he'd go
to the dragon infirmary about it. Be responsible. Then he'd gone and
checked in on how Fadira was doing. She'd been...enthusiastic in her thanks.

Now he was just getting into the dining hall, candlemarks late, when the
main serving period was over and it was more of a 'pick what you want to
eat of the leftovers'. There was some bread still left, already a little
hard and stale but there was a root stew to dip it in, and he'd filled
a tray and was looking for a seat when Thadath contacted him.

}:Rider? Isarth's asks if you could come see him.:{

**Does he want to meet me in the dining hall?** R’kehr asked. Since
M’gan wasn’t his wingleader, he didn’t think he was in trouble. But he
was becoming a mentor figure. Maybe he wanted to chat something about
the day, give some more bronzerider advice?

}:He is in the Infirmary,:{ the bronze responded.

Oh. Well. That was unexpected. R’kehr felt his stomach swoop oddly as he
thought about what it meant. **I’ll be right there.**

He went back to the kitchen to ask for a couple cookies “because I’m
going to the infirmary” - and he won - and then he headed in, carrying
the tray.

A few nice words with the apprentice at the front desk and then he was
directed back to the right bed. He twitched the curtain aside. “How are
you doing?” He asked.

M'gan grimaced. "I've felt better, but Isarth took us /between/ before
it got to anything vital. Thanks for coming." He was sitting up in the
infirmary bed, his upper body wrapped in bandages holding what looked
like a large dressing in place across his back and left shoulder, and
leaning slightly forward. Pillows propped against the wall supported his
lower back, and what looked like a wing report lay in his lap. The faint
infirmary scent of redwort filled the air. "You got through all right?
It was a difficult Fall today."

R’kehr stopped short as he actually took into account how bad M’gan
looked. “Shards, you look awful,” he blurted out. He busied himself
stepping in to lay the tray on the side table. “I brought food, by the way.”

When asked about his Fall, his face fell. “It was very difficult. My
friend Fadira, one of my clutchmates - Thadath had to pull a stunt to
sear Thread before it got her.”

"Ah, no - is she all right?" M'gan had taken one of the cookies, but his
hand paused on the way to his mouth. Almost as bad as being scored was
the danger from another dragon's flame. You had to burn the Thread and
take the risk, but it was all the harder when it was a friend.

R'kehr nodded. "Thadath warned her to skip /between/ so we could get it.
Held herself a little longer than needed so the flame could dissipate
too. But I was frightened that we'd flame her, or that the Tread would
take her. "

"You did well. Some riders would freeze in that situation, and then she
might have been hit." M'gan had known that happen, and the guilt the
surviving rider had to deal with. He'd always made sure his wingriders
trained for it, but it was never quite the same with rope drills as in
Fall. "Now you know you can do it, if you need to. Still..." He smiled.
"Maybe you should take some of these cookies along to Fadira, too."

"I could do that. But I want to make sure you have some first. I was
worried about you."

"Oh, I'm a tough old wherry. It'll take more than a brush of Threadscore
to stop me." He took a bite of the cookie and smiled appreciatively.
"It's good of you to come by, R'kehr. There's something I've been
wanting to talk to you about. I've never really found the right time,
before, but this injury has given me time to think, and I realised -
well, I didn't want someone else to have to tell it to you, after Isarth
and I had gone /between/ for good."

"That sounds...very serious." R'kehr had been standing, even after he
sat the tray down. Now he dragged over one of the chairs, it making a
screech across the stone that made him wince. He suspected he'd need
to sit for this.

"It's nothing bad. I mean, I hope it isn't," M'gan said, his words
coming awkwardly for all the time he'd spent thinking about how he was
going to explain. "It's about - well. You remember that your mother and
I were riders together at Vista Point, back before the Northern Weyrs
opened up?"

"Right. Back when there were only 5. Lots of people came from the same
Weyr."

"Yes. I knew her pretty well back then - we got on. She's a good
wingrider. Friendly. And - ah, I don't expect this is something you want
to think about, particularly, but my Isarth flew her Beralith once or
twice." It hadn't been just flights, either, but M'gan decided not to go
into details. He hardly had holder scruples, but it wasn't exactly
comfortable to discuss someone's mother that way. "Anyway - you're
twenty-two now, right?"

"I can tell you she's single," R'kehr said, assuming that's what M'gan
wanted to know. Mating flights with his mother was a thing he'd known
about, of course. Sometimes men tried to stay with her after, become a
regular partner of hers, but she never much held with it.

"Yeah. My sisters are younger. Half-sisters."

"Right." It took M'gan a moment to work out what R'kehr meant by
bringing up Kehrana's relationship status. "Ah. That's not what I
meant." He tried not to look too mortified by the idea that he'd try and
express a romantic interest in a greenrider through one of her children.
"Let me start again. When I met you for the first time, after my
transfer, I noticed you seemed somehow familiar, and I had this idea
that maybe we were related. So I went to talk to Kehrana...and we
realised those flights would have been around the right time, twenty-two
or twenty-three Turns ago."

R'kehr had in fact been assuming that M'gan had wanted to find out of
his mom was single, because Faranth knew that asking her directly if
she was, was never going to get an accurate answer. He was surprised
as M'gan wound up bringing up the dates and put it together.

"You could be my father?" A slow smile spread across his face at the idea.

"It seems likely." M'gan was far from a shy man, but he couldn't help
feeling nervous now that he'd brought it out in the open and it came out
in his voice and manner, as a most uncharacteristic diffidence. "Do you
mind - I mean, I hope it's not unwelcome news. I'd not want to intrude
into your family, but - well, I thought you should know, at least?"

"Are you kidding? I was already looking up to you as an example of who
I should be like as a bronzerider." R'kehr suddenly looked like an
excited teenager, several Turns younger. "It's _welcome_ news. You
know my mother, she's very...flighty. Shows up for presents and
dragonrides. Likes to be proud of us. Really, the family is just me
and Uriana and Ehrissa. They'll be so excited one of us knows who our
father is. You're welcome to meet and spend time with them too."

The worried lines in M'gan's face smoothed, and his sudden, wide and
boyish grin made the resemblance between the two of them very clear.
"I'd love that. I can't tell you how glad I am. I mean - I've hardly
been much of a father. Perhaps if I'd paid more attention when I was
young, I could have found out earlier, provided my own share of presents
and dragonrides at least, but then I went chasing my ambitions up
North." He shook his head at the thoughtlessness of his own younger
self. "I hope I can make up for it now."

"I don't think there's anything wrong about chasing your ambitions,"
R'kehr said loyally.

"Perhaps, but you might find out, later on, that you missed out on the
more important aspects of life. I'm just lucky it wasn't too late for
me." If that clump of thread had hit at a slightly different angle - if
Isarth hadn't been so quick... He shook his head. "Sorry. It sounds like
becoming a father makes one prone to dispensing sage advice."

"You've earned the right to do it. Realizing you're a father, having
an injury that could have..." He trailed off. Of course all
dragonriders knew they could be injured and die, but at least for
R'kehr it had felt like it would always happen to someone else. Not
him. And not anyone he knew, not if he could save them. It was why
Fadira's injury had scared him.

"Lets you do some of the cliches, I mean," he finished.

"I'll try to restrain the urge, anyway." M'gan smiled and shifted to
ease his sore back. "When I get out of here, let's meet up as a family -
what do you think? I feel I've got so much to catch up on." Even though
they'd talked often before, it had been mainly as bronzeriders, about
their dragons and wing matters. He didn't know much about R'kehr's
childhood, or his siblings. "And if you have any questions for me, I'd
be happy to answer."

"I'm excited for that," R'kehr said sincerely. "You may regret that offer."

"Never," M'gan said cheerfully. "Though no doubt it's tradition for sons
to think up the most embarrassing questions possible to ask their
fathers, young wingriders are much the same."

He laughed at that. "I suppose. Well...let me get out of your hair.
You're probably tired by now."

"The healers would tell me I am." M'gan rolled his eyes. "You must be,
too, after the Fall we've had. Go join your wingmates." He knew, after a
hard fall and some close scares, how important the company of other
riders could be.

"I will. Reach out to me any time," he said before heading out.

Last updated on the March 28th 2024

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The Cliches of Fatherhood