Where the Dragons Found Us
Dragonsfall Weyr
Amber Hills Hold
Vintner Hall
Healer Hall
Hidden Meadows
Dolphin Cove Weyr
Dolphin Hall
Emerald Falls Hold
Harper Hall
Printer Hall
Green Valley Hold
Leeward Lagoon Hold
Barrier Lake Weyr
Sunstone Seahold
Citrus Bay Hold
Writers: Iluva, Sia
Date Posted: 13th May 2025
Characters: K'valas, A'garyn
Description: Two Holdless men reunite outside the flooded caves
Location: Elsewhere on Pern
Date: month 5, day 5 of Turn 12
Notes: Follows 'G'zan's Lessons in De-escalation.'
The camp stank of wet wool, mud, and exhaustion. People huddled in clusters beneath makeshift shelters, wrapped in whatever dry blankets the riders had managed to bring.
Kavalas moved through the camp on stiff legs, muscles aching and protesting each movement. His clothes were still damp despite the fire, and the blanket someone had draped over his shoulders did nothing to ward off a chill. He kept his face blank, scanning the gathered holdless with sharp, practiced eyes. He wasn’t looking for food, or warmth, or even shelter.
He was looking for Aegaryn.
A flash of gold near one of the lean-tos made him stop short. The firelizard was curled tight against a familiar figure, her damp wings draped protectively over his shoulder, her head tucked under his chin.
Kavalas exhaled, tension easing from his spine before he even willed it to. Aegaryn was there, his clothes still wet, hair sticking to his forehead, but alive. Alive. Kavalas moved without thinking, closing the distance in a few long strides before collapsing next to the other man, close but just short of physical touch.
Then, slowly, his fingers brushed against the edge of the blanket draped over his shoulders. A shift of his hand. [[You hurt?]]
The rain had been hammering even harder this past candlemark. Aegaryn heard it shattering against the saturated roof, listening in between the shift of vengeful winds and the bits of dragonrider talk that came and went with them out of the tent.
He’d been instructed to sit here, and not to move until he was told, so here is where he sat.
There were a few small, damp children clustered together, coughing and shivering in the far corner until a red-haired rider eventually poked her head in and coaxed them into following her to her dragon. One hesitated, but their desperate unwillingness to be separated won out. Their wide-eyed expressions telegraphed all the energy Aegaryn kept down, out, away as he concentrated on the warmth of Zolta’s head, the hum of her throat against his.
Yet it was there: droning over the rain and the rumbles and the shouts between dragonmen - a woman’s ululating, inconsolable wail. The sounds women only made when the precious and the vital were being carved from them.
But it was either that, or the morbid images of what might have happened to Kavalas. A little of that was too much. And there would be no relaxing, no resting, not here, with the steady stream of transports taking more of them up and out.
A short while later two bronzeriders entered, pressing deep into the back of the lean-to where one crouched to presumably ask questions. Then, easing his posture and feeling the cold weight of his eyelids, Aegaryn felt the earth shake and splash with what could only be a bronze dragon landing again outside.
Except just as clearly the sudden, squelching, unmistakable vibration of steps, and he’d never felt more relieved in his life.
Still, Aegaryn waited until the bronzeriders had exited the lean-to, and his periphery, before his face broke with a smile. Low to his hip, near the gold’s tail tip, his hand twitched back. [[A little.]] The knuckles were raw and his shoulder radiated hot, despite the bitter cold. But his attention was unaffected, roaming subtly yet urgently over Kavalas like he might somehow see beneath the soggy layers of fabric. [[You?]]
Kavalas' gaze, at first intensely watching the movement of others in and out of the tent, snapped to Aegaryn as if he'd spoken aloud. His expression plainly showed that he disagreed, looking over at the way Aegaryn favored one arm, the new scrapes mixed in with old.
[[Good.]] He lied in a casual flick of fingers against his arm. "I almost hit a dragonrider." He did admit, his voice low.
Aegaryn's sharp-eyed expression remained unchanged. When he spoke his voice was rough with exhaustion, an edge to each word. “What’d he do?”
"Snuck up on me." Kavalas grumbled. That wasn't entirely true. "Can you walk? We could leave."
Aegaryn schooled any skepticism or surprise at that explanation, but didn’t push the issue. Not here. [[I’m _fine_.]] He insisted, since, as his stiff legs found purpose again, they could really only deal in half-truths either silent or spoken at this moment. But he had who he was waiting for, finally. Anything else, anything outside this renewed sense of relief, would be found waiting for them within the guarded walls of the Weyr.
“Let’s get out of here, Kav.”
Last updated on the May 19th 2025