A Good Man After All

Writers: Devin, Estelle
Date Posted: 5th March 2025
Series: Guarding Gil

Characters: Gilbek, Tr'vel
Description: Gil and Tr'vel share a meal after the attack in the dining cavern
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 3, day 3 of Turn 12

Tr'vel

Gil leaned back in his chair in the infirmary's waiting area and closed
his eyes. The healer had cleaned, stitched and bandaged his arm and the
numbweed had dulled the pain, but his back ached and he felt weary in a
way he hadn't in months. His mind raced with what-ifs - if he'd not
happened to see Ingrizon, if he'd hesitated even a moment...

"Gil?" Tr'vel said as he approached. "How are you doing? How's the arm?"

"Numb." Gil's eyes opened and he sat up, his smile tired, but warm.
"Nothing vital was damaged. I'm afraid I've ruined this shirt, though."
The healer had cut the sleeve off at the shoulder, along with the worst
of the bloodstains. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about that, we'll get you a new one." Tr'vel felt a
little guilty that his first thought had been that Gil was betraying
them when the man had actually been _saving_ someone. "Would you like
to go back to your weyr and rest? Or would you like to go eat? We did
get uh, interrupted."

He'd forgotten, but now that he thought about it, his stomach growled.
"I am a little hungry."

"He needs to rest." The healer who'd seen to Gil's wound emerged from an
office, carrying a folded paper. "But if he goes straight back to his
weyr afterwards I'll allow it." He handed the paper to Tr'vel. "My
instructions, since neither I nor the Weyrleader trust him to follow
them on his own."

Gil got to his feet and peered at the healer's writing over the
bluerider's shoulder. After the description of the treatment was the
word "NO", underlined three times, and then a list of forbidden
activities, starting with "strenuous exercise" and ending with "jumping
on top of knife-wielding fanatics to save a boy like a fool in a harper
ballad".

He looked up to see a faint smile on the journeyman's face. "Word
spreads fast. That last one goes for both of you, by the way." He gently
clapped Gil's uninjured shoulder. "Bring him back tomorrow afternoon and
I'll change the dressing."

Tr'vel laughed at the note and the journeyman's comment. "I'll make
sure he follows instructions." Then to Gil, he said, "Come on."

Gil followed him out of the infirmary with some relief. "Are you doing
all right? Is that man...Ingrizon..."

"He's in one of the cliff weyrs." The bluerider's expression darkened
at the thought of what Ingrizon had done. And what he'd almost done.
"I'm fine, aside from being sharding furious."

"That poor lad." First the poisoning of his dragon, and now this. Though
he'd been concentrating on holding on to Ingrizon at the time, Gil had
still glimpsed R'ayl and remembered how shaken he'd looked. "How is he?
Do you know?"

"I haven't had time to check, but Eboroth said Delorth calmed down,
and R'ayl had people taking care of him -- his mother and his fellow
weavers." And the Weyrleader's weyrmate. Shards, this could have been
such a disaster.

"I'm glad. I hope this is the end of it all." Gil ran a hand through his
hair. "I wish I'd done something sooner, when I was at that hold. I knew
what he was. I could have..."

"Gotten yourself killed?" Tr'vel said. "You almost _did_."

Gil sighed. "Maybe you're right. Even if I'd fought and killed him,
there were others, and he certainly wasn't the brains of the plot. But I
could have - I don't know. Stood up to them. Walked away."

"You saved Alyena and her daughter," the bluerider said. True, Gil
could have refused before that, could have told someone there was a
conspiracy against the Weyr even if he didn't know the details. But
the man had reached his limit and suffered for it.

"It was your people that saved them, really. Dragonriders." He still
wished he'd done more that night, but perhaps now he'd started to make
amends. "I should thank you for helping me today, too. I don't suppose
everyone saw what happened. They'd have seen me attacking someone, and
if you hadn't been there, and they'd made me let him go..."

Tr'vel wanted to deny it, but if it had been C'nal instead and the
brownrider hadn't seen the flash of the knife or heard what Ingrizon
said . . . "You saved a dragonrider's life today, Gil. None of us will
forget that." They stepped into the dining cavern.

"Well, it was mostly good luck," Gil said, embarrassed and trying to
make light of it. There had been so many ways things could have gone
differently this evening, and led to a tragic end. He glanced at Tr'vel
and half-smiled. "For example, it's lucky that I can run faster than you."

The bluerider laughed and grinned at him. "We might have to test that.
Once your arm is healed up."

"You're on." Gil returned the grin. He glanced at his bandaged arm. "I
can't believe he got me. I must be out of practice."

"Maybe you can get in some practice with the guards," Tr'vel said.
"You take a seat, I'll bring your food."

"You can both sit down." One of the kitchen workers came over, bearing a
large tray piled high with food. There were two helpings of the spiced
stew and rivergrains that had been served earlier, a loaf of bread with
butter, a flask of wine and a plate of bubbly pies, fresh from the oven
and smelling sweetly of fruit. "The Headwoman is with her son, but she
said to serve you whatever you ask for from the kitchens. Nothing but
the best for the two brave ones who saved a young dragonrider." She set
the tray down on an empty table and beamed at them. "Now's your chance
to eat like the Weyrleaders at a Hatching Feast, so make the most of it."

"Thank you." Tr'vel bowed his head. "And thank the Headwoman for me,
if I don't see her first. It was our duty and honor. I suppose I
should politely refuse, and then you'll insist, and then I'll accept,
so why don't we just skip to the eating?" He chuckled. His stomach
certainly liked the idea.

"Go right ahead, and just call if you want seconds of anything. I'll
bring klah over soon." She made a curtsey in response to his bow and
Gil's, then turned and began shooing away some of the curious onlookers.
"All right, leave them to eat in peace. We'll hear the full story soon
enough."

Gil took a seat gratefully. Although he was tired, his appetite had
definitely returned and he was ravenous. "This looks wonderful. Ah - is
wine on the healer's list, or shall we not look?"

Tr'vel considered him for a moment as he sat. "I'll just keep the list
tucked away for now." The man deserved a drink after that.

"Thanks." He couldn't remember the last time he'd tasted wine, and
between that, the injury and the long day he limited himself to pouring
out a small measure for each of them. "Cheers."

Tr'vel lifted his glass. "To Gil, for being a good man after all."

A real, genuinely warm smile lit Gil's face, at the sense of belonging
he hadn't felt for so long. He sipped the wine, his eyes widening at the
delicate scent of summer fruits and the vibrant burst of flavors on his
tongue, then raised his glass again. "And to Tr'vel, for believing I
could be."

The bluerider ducked his head as a wave of guilt washed over him. "I
didn't," he said tightly. "When you first took off running I thought .
. ." Tr'vel swallowed. "I was wrong about you, and for that I'm
sorry."

"Hey." Gil set down his glass and leaned across the table, touching
Tr'vel's arm. "I'd have thought the same, in your place. You didn't know
what I'd seen or why I was running, and when you understood, you helped
me." He met the dragonrider's gaze steadily. "But what I meant was, all
along you've treated me as though I could be good, even if you didn't
know for certain. It's more than I had any right to expect."

Tr'vel shifted to grip his arm. "I had _hoped_. I didn't want you to
be knowingly involved in almost killing Delorth. In almost killing my
daughter's dragon." He hadn't wanted to hate Gil.

Gil shook his head, as if in physical distaste. "I would never have had
anything to do with hurting a young one, dragon or human. I did things
for them I'm not proud of, but not that."

"I know that now." It was such a relief to know that Gil had been
telling the truth. That the man he'd guarded for months, that he'd
gotten to know, hadn't been lying to them the whole time. Tr'vel
cleared his throat. "We should . . . we should eat."

"Yes, let's. I'm starving." Gil hesitated for a moment, then smiled and
drew back his arm before tucking in to the plate of stew before him."Id
"Mmm, this is really good. Must be something about danger that really
gives you an appetite. I guess you dragonriders would know..."

"I was ravenous after 'Fall sometimes," Tr'vel said. "The danger, the
exertion, maybe the combination." He missed it a little, sometimes,
but he was also relieved he didn't have to risk his life on a regular
basis. He took a bite, and the stew was indeed delicious.

"I'd almost forgotten. It's been a long time since I felt like that."
Only the faintest echo of it at White Hollow, that time when he'd fought
the other guard, and then he'd not been in danger, not really. "Taking a
risk to do something...worthwhile."

"Well, let's hope there aren't any _more_ murderous conspirators for
you to tackle," Tr'vel said.

The holder laughed. "I hope so, too. Even though it's my only useful
skill, really. Keeping guard. Well - that and hunting, I suppose."

"You're contributing to the Weyr, Gil. Don't worry about that." Tr'vel
understood the need to feel useful, he'd struggled with it after
Eboroth's injury forced his retirement.

"I suppose someone has to scrub those pots," Gil joked. "You've all put
so much effort into me, though. The healing, the food, the...ah,
supervising? I wish I could do more to repay you."

"You saved a dragonrider's life. That's far more than a repayment."

"I won't argue with that." He quietened for a while, savoring the meal,
then looked up. "I don't suppose this means you and your wingmates are
going to give up trying to get me to swim with no clothes on?"

Tr'vel laughed. "It might get _worse_. Weyrfolk should be comfortable
with nudity, and you're weyrfolk now. Well . . . at least in my eyes."

"I am?" That smile returned, half-surprised but full of warmth. "Then I
suppose a bit of teasing about my bathing habits is a small price to pay
for a home."

"Been a long time, hasn't it?" Tr'vel asked quietly. "Since you've had
a real home?"

Gil's gaze dropped, and then he nodded. "I used to think that one day,
when I retired from the guards, I'd have a cothold and some land to live
on with my wife. That would be my home. It was why I joined, to earn my
own place by serving the Lord Holder. I would dream about how we'd
furnish it, what we'd grow and trade. I used to think I would plant
herbs, because she couldn't see them, but she could enjoy the scents,
and the taste..." He looked up again. "I haven't told anyone about that
in a long time, either."

Tr'vel absorbed that for a moment, touched that Gil was being so open
with him. "This isn't the life I dreamed of, either. First having to
face Thread, and then having _that_ taken away from me, too."

"It's strange to think how we both ended up here, isn't it?" If things
had turned out only a little differently, Gil thought, he'd be living at
Emerald Falls still. Or dead. He'd never have imagined he would be
sitting down to dinner with a dragonrider like Tr'vel.

"It's not so bad, though." Tr'vel smiled. "I hope the Weyr really can
be a home for you. Most of Lightning Wing has practically adopted you
already." And they'd be even more vocal in their support now.

"I'm honored," Gil said, and though his voice was light-hearted, it was
sincerely felt. It had been a long time, as well, since he'd had
friends. "I think this could be - a home." Then his lip twitched. "But
I'm still keeping my clothes on in public."

Tr'vel arched an eyebrow. "For now."

Last updated on the March 19th 2025

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A Good Man After All