A New Path
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: Sia
Date Posted: 13th July 2025
Characters: Varethos, M'thos
Description: Varethos withdraws from candidacy
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 9, day 22 of Turn 12
Notes: Mentioned: T'mhas, Lemhask
The knock was hesitant and far too polite for most of the candidates and weyrlings. M'thos looked up from the hidework spread over his desk, brows lifting. "Come in."
The door opened to reveal Varethos, shoulders straight but his mouth tight. M'thos sat back in his chair, the old wood creaking under him as he gave his son a once-over. The last time he looked like that he was about to admit to stealing all the liquor in the cabinet for a candidate party. “You look like someone who’s either about to confess to something or ask for a favor.”
Varethos gave a weak laugh. “Kind of both.”
That earned him a nod to the chair opposite. “Well then. Sit, let’s have it.”
Varethos sat, but didn’t speak immediately. His gaze flicked to the hidework M’thos had been marking; some of the last tests Chioneth's clutch would have before they graduated. Flight formations, probably.
“I think…” Varethos began, then grimaced and started again. “I’ve been thinking about moving out of the candidate barracks.”
M’thos blinked. “All right,” he said slowly. “That’s not a problem in itself, though you know there’s not much free space around the Weyr just now.”
“I know,” Varethos said quickly. “That’s why I was going to stay with Mom for a bit. She’s got space, and it’d only be until I sort out where I’m really going to be.”
M’thos nodded, but he didn’t look entirely convinced. “And the reason? You’re not giving up on Standing, are you?”
There it was. The core of the thing.
Varethos exhaled hard, a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “I don’t know. Maybe not completely. But I’m going to be twenty soon. I don’t want to age out and be twenty-two without a craft or a plan.”
That struck something in M’thos; his brows drew in, just slightly.
“I want to focus on finishing my Journeyman’s work,” Varethos continued. “The Weyrharper says I’m close. If I put in the time, I could walk the tables this Turn. But between chores, Standing, lessons, there’s no time for real study.”
M’thos leaned back, hands lacing over his stomach, contemplative. “And you think you’ll manage that better at your mother’s?”
“It’s quiet. She's taking a break from fostering now that the youngest one has moved out, so she has a spare room. And I’d considered… maybe going back home, but," he winced, “But sharing the space with Tamerel isn’t exactly ideal for focused study.” He didn't bring up that it felt equally awkward to be back in his childhood room, with all the old relics of himself scattered around.
M’thos snorted. “Fair.”
There was a pause, not long, but long enough that the silence prickled at Varethos’ skin.
“I Impressed Fianwyth the last Hatching I could have Stood,” M’thos said finally.
"You were already a journeyman by then." Varethos pointed out. "And there weren't several hatchings a turn to distract you."
M'thos nodded. “I get it. I do. You want something to fall back on. Something that’s yours, no matter what the dragons think."
Varethos nodded, throat tight.
“You’re not failing,” M’thos added, his voice softening. “Standing isn’t the only way to serve the Weyr. And you’ll still be eligible to Stand, if that’s what you want later. But even if you weren’t, you’d still be enough. You know that, right?”
Varethos swallowed hard. “Thanks, Dad.” Still, he thought about the last time Lemhask said that he was destined for bronze and his fathers' easy assumption that he _would_ Impress, and found a hard time believing it himself.
“I assume you haven’t told T’mhas yet?”
“No,” Varethos said, visibly bracing. “I think he’ll take it personally. Like I’m walking away from the legacy or something. And-- I don't want to disappoint him."
“I’ll talk to him, if you like.”
Varethos hesitated. “Maybe. Let me try first. If he blows his top, you can help talk him down.”
M’thos smiled faintly, stood, and came around the desk to clasp his son’s shoulder. “You’ve got a good head. Your knots will come. And if a dragon does too, well"then you’ll just be a better rider for it.”
Varethos gave a shaky smile. “Thanks, Dad.”
“And when you’re a full Harper,” M’thos said, “Maybe you can convince the Weyrharper to stop rotating through the same dozen songs at every event."
Varethos laughed for real that time. “No promises. He'd be so mad if he thought we were in cahoots."
“Worth a shot." M’thos gave his shoulder one last squeeze and stepped back as Varethos turned toward the door.
“I’ll tell T’mhas soon,” his son added.
M’thos nodded. “You’ve got this.”
The door closed with a soft click, leaving the office still again.
For a long moment, M’thos didn’t move.
Then, slowly, he returned to his chair.
He stared at the hidework without seeing it, the echo of Varethos’ voice still in his ears. 'I don’t want to disappoint him.'
Faranth, had they done that? Had he set expectations so high that even standing on solid ground felt like failure to his son?
He leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face. He thought of T’mhas, and the way his mate could be so proud and so blind in the same breath. Compared to the other kids, Varethos had been so easy. He'd practically raised himself.
}: You wouldn't have meant to push.:{ Fianwyth added gently.
**But that doesn't mean we didn't.**
Last updated on the July 15th 2025