Not At All What I Expected

Writers: Iluva, Aaron
Date Posted: 19th October 2025

Characters: T'mhas, H'lem
Description: T'mhas congratulates his son on his Impression.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 12, day 14 of Turn 12
Notes: Mentioned: M'thos, Varethos, M'rhas,
cursing

T'mhas

H'lem's heart was full. And his hand was empty. He opened and closed it a few times and stared at it. Of course, he could not hold Tannock's hand for the whole feast. He had too many people to speak to. But if he could have, he would have. Who knew how long it would be before he could hold it again?

H'lem had almost hoped he could avoid seeing T'mhas. He dreaded having to tell him what his dragon had decided to call him.

But there was little chance of that happening.

T'mhas had ditched his parents with a few other Master crafters in search of his son the moment Ghraisath reported the little brown had drifted off asleep in the barracks.

Varethos, he still wanted to see and check in on, even if just over a drink. Something he and M'thos could do later when he was free and the young riders settled, but regardless of his eldest having left candidacy, T'mhas still kept an eye out for that blond head as he waited. M'rhas had missed his own Hatching Feast due to the assault of a classmate just minutes after Impressing, and T'mhas was still bursting with the kind of pride that couldn't even by dwarfed by something like that at this point.

Then he spotted him. The bronzerider's looming approach was punctuated by his long, sweeping stride as he began gently shoulder-checking guests and party goers in his wake. He'd already frightened a few people trying to shake off some of the excitement outside, and made sure to take a deep breath as he neared his son the dragonrider.

And Lem looked different-- he was a little older, even if only in the way T'mhas was already seeing him himself, feeling the ways his kid's life would change again and again.

"Lem! That is _my_ son!" His voice boomed over the surface of patrons' heads, scattering the last few people out of the way without even thinking to apologize. He didn't care.

His long legs all but jumped the last few feet, though Tam didn't crush the young man for too long. Tried not to. Just long enough for him to feel his heart swell painfully inside his chest. "Come here, you rascal." His eyes shone as his hands clapped the boy's solid shoulders, grip loosening slowly when it did, just so he could look at him a moment longer. "Faranth Lem, you did it! I'm... I am so fuckin' proud of you-- know that?"

"Oh! Dad! H-hi! Um."

How did a son say this kind of thing to his father? Nevermind that -- despite whatever had truly happened over the Turns -- it had always felt like maybe M'rhas had always been the better, truer son. That Lemhask had never fought hard enough to be a son worth being proud of.

And now, he had to tell this man who was shouting how proud of him he was that his very own dragon had cut his name out and left it behind. Because no matter how Lem had insisted, bargained, pleaded, Mactallath would not name him L'mhas or even L'mhask.

No matter what Lem said, all Mactallath would call him was...

H'lem.

"I-I..."

Fire, flame, and ashes, why did he have to cry when things like this happened?

T'mhas was only a little surprised at what he suspected might be overwhelm setting in, and smiled gently. "Hey, it's alright," he assured him, particularly mindful of his tone and volume now. He pulled Lem back into another tight-ish hug, one armed so as not to add too much to the whelm.

But there was tightness in his throat, too. Pride tangled with the variety of turbulent emotions that came with having two of his sons now adragonback, and all of it running a little close to the surface. They took a few breaths together. After another long moment, his big hands eased, and Tam's smile spread with it, less of a beam as his features turned softer, more contented for the Feast.

"So, what's he like, huh? Your Mactallath."

"He's... quiet," said Lem. "I thought he would have more to say. But he's also very..." Stubborn was not exactly the right word. "Well, everyone says browns are steady... Mac is more like a boulder."

T'mhas already knew what his name was. Maybe that meant he already knew what Mactallath had named him, too. Even thinking about trying to use any other name filled him with even more dread. He could not ignore what his dragon had chosen.

"A boulder," T'mhas chuckled; the use of a nickname showed the closeness of the pair, he thought. "He sounds like he knows what he wants."

"It... feels like, you know... like a boulder doesn't want many things," said Lem. "But the things it _does_ want, it's gonna get. You know what I mean?" Was he sweating?

}:Nope. Not even a little,:{ Ghraisath's mindvoice was quick to interject, teasing.

T'mhas just smiled. His voice was thick with irony and full of affection, "Actually I know just what you mean, Lem. And baby dragons in particular are forceful little f-lamers," he said, with Lem being the only one likely to hear what word almost cut into the crowd. He gently rested his palm on the ridge of his son's broad shoulder. "Takes a while to learn each other."

H'lem relaxed a little. Smiled. Breathed. But. He still had to tell him.

"Dad, I... I have to tell you something that's making me sad, and I don't want it to make you sad, too, and... And I feel like I'm asking too much because you should get to be sad, but I just really, really don't want to be the reason why you're sad."

"Hey," Tam leaned down a little (a lot) so that the earnestness in his expression was hopefully being made clearer. "Hey, listen. I'm a grown ass man-- you ain't gotta worry or protect me. 'Specially not from my own feelings, alright?" His huge hand tightened, now just offering him a physical anchor if he needed it. "I always wanna hear it-- whatever's botherin' you, whatever's on your mind. What's goin' on, Lem?"

Lem laid his hand over his father's.

"Mac says my name is H'lem now. I tried to convince him to keep your name as a part of mine, but he just... keeps saying H'lem, nothing but H'lem," the lad blurted. "I just wanted you to know I'm not throwing your name away on purpose. I wanted to keep it. I tried to keep it."

"What?" That was not what the bronzerider had expected by a long, long shot. His expression flickered. But the surprise that formed wasn't hurt, or outraged. Or even expected, either. After a long, weighty beat of silence, and the recognition of what it meant deepened, he said, at last, "Ah."

Honestly, he thought he'd be sadder, too. Disappointed in a distant way. Yet, despite that, he found himself chuckling. "That... sounds about right."

What could "that" be? Wanting to keep the name? Getting steamrolled by his dragon?

"I'm sorry I wasn't... I dunno, strong enough to change his mind."

"Oh. No," T'mhas' head shook, chest going a tad tight there. "No, buddy, it's not like that. He chose you. He _knows_ how strong you are, Lem. I only laughed a little cause... well, it's not what I thought you'd choose. But I guess it ain't like you really chose it, either."

It had mattered. A name-- his name-- used to carry more importance when he was younger, cockier, when he still naively believed in it. In its chances, that is. But neither Rhas nor Lem's mothers had consulted him in their choosing. That information had found him later, well after his heart had started thudding and long before a name decided-- just the news that the baby was here. Tiny. His.

His blue eyes searched his son's anxious amber brown now. This kid. "Look. Point is: if you're fine with it, then so am I, Lem. H'lem." His smile couldn't help but widen, amused and affectionate and toothy. "Mac just kept the best part."

Gradually, Lem relaxed and began to smile. This was going to be all right.

"I think everyone was going to just keep calling me Lem anyway." It really was the part of his birth name that was most his name.

"I'm glad," Tam clapped his shoulder proudly. "Think this calls for some ales, hm? Oh, and who do you wanna see first -- grandparents or brothers? Tamerel's gonna lose his _shit_ when he sees you, so brace yourself."

H'lem laughed. Ales! Ales with dad! If it were not for Mactallath's name hangup, he might have actually had trouble believing this was all real.

"Let's see who we run into."

Last updated on the November 2nd 2025

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Not At All What I Expected