I Know That Dragon

Writers: Estelle, Steel
Date Posted: 9th May 2026

Characters: Gilbek, Tavhei
Description: Gilbek encounters Tavhei while he's sketching Eboroth
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 13, day 19 of Turn 12
Notes: Mentioned: Tr'vel, Talryne, Loseth

Gil was heading back to the herdbeast pens after noon meal when, on his way past the lake, he saw a familiar light blue dragon basking in the sun on a rocky outcrop above the water. Eboroth had chosen his spot not far from where two greens were perched, and as Gil he watched, one of them arched her neck in a flirtatious manner, while the other one huffed and flicked her tail in pique. Although he couldn't hear their voices, it was clear what was playing out and he smiled to himself.

**Eboroth, you sly old wherry.** He'd have to tell Tr'vel about it later.

Distracted by imagining what the dragons were saying to each other, he nearly missed the young man sitting nearby with a sketch pad. As he passed, he couldn't resist a quick glance. "Oh, is that Eboroth?"

Tavhei stiffened, at being addressed, before he nodded. “Talryne asked me to sketch him.” He supplied, a moment later. “You know Eboroth, then?” Shardit, this better not be the dragon's rider.

"Yes. His rider's my weyrmate." It had only been a few days and it still felt new and blissful to say that. Gil found himself unable to help himself smiling at the word. Weyrmate.

"I'm Gilbek." As he introduced himself, the way the young artist had mentioned Talryne's name suddenly made sense to him. "Are you helping with the tapestry?"

“I'm no good at weaving.” Tavhei responded, let out a slow breath. Good. He hadn’t blown it.

“I'm Tavhei.” He added, after a moment longer, though he didn't offer a hand to shake. “Talryne asked me for a few reference sketches of Eboroth, so…” He gave a sort of shrug.

"But they're wonderful," Gil said, looking more closely at the sketches. "That one of his head, turned towards us, with the scars - it's just how I pictured it. You've really captured him." He caught himself. "You don't mind me looking, do you?"

“Just… don't clue the dragon in. Their riders tend to know whatever they do.” Tavhei responded, and continued to draw. “... Thank you. I _am_ an artist.” He added after a moment, with a touch of pride. “I'll be working toward a master's knots, when I'm eligible.”

"Looks like you're well on your way," Gil complimented him. He glanced up at the sun. There was still a little time before he had to be back to work, and he didn't sense that he was annoying the artist by standing around. "You're right about Eboroth, though. He and Tr'vel can't help sharing all their thoughts and feelings, though they're two distinct personalities. It's hard to imagine what that's like."

“All due respect,” Tavhei responded, a little bit stiffly, “I'd rather _not_ imagine, if it's all the same to you. I don't make a habit of getting to know dragons.” A beat. “... Thank you, in any case. I spend most of my time sketching, though of course I can work with paints and the like as well.”

"I see." Though Gil did wonder about the comment about dragons. So far, everyone he'd met at the Weyr had been keen on spending as much time as they could around them, if they weren't a rider already. Weyrbrats and candidates eagerly discussed the clutches and their hopes of Impression, while the older staff gossiped about which bronze might win a gold, or whether a green's flirting with a particular blue meant their riders shared their attraction.

Still, he didn't think it was his place to ask if Tavhei didn't want to talk about it. "Do you teach, as well?" he asked instead. "The children, I mean. I've heard some of the other harpers talking about their classes."

“Sometimes I'll stand in as a substitute, yes.” Tavhei confirmed. “My duties as a Harper coincide with helping teach the Weyrbrats-- the creche children, even if I do prefer honing my own skill.”

"It must be a wonderful thing, to have a skill that means so much to you." Gil couldn't help but compare the crafters at the Weyr to those at White Hollow, who'd been indolent and disengaged at best. Not that he could blame them, given the grim atmosphere that had hung over that place. With an effort, he put that place out of his mind and focused on the sketches.

"Do you think - once the tapestry is complete, you might be willing to sell these, or lend them to me?" he asked diffidently. "I'm sure Tr'vel would be interested to see them."

“These are going to Talryne, as reference.” Tavhei said, blandly, then relented, just a little bit. “I can sell them to you after Talryne is done with them. Or make a copy.”

A pause, and then he added, “Are you a Crafter, then?”

Gil shook his head. "I was a hold guard once, but now I work on the Headwoman's staff, doing - well, whatever is needed. Mostly fetching and carrying, or working for the herders." Now he was more settled in the Weyr, he sometimes wondered if he might use his old skills again, or perhaps learn something new. Not a craft, he didn't have the education for that, but a useful trade perhaps, so he'd be able to do more than odd jobs. "Not the most glamorous way to contribute, but I'm grateful to have a home here."

“What's Holdlife like?” Tavhei asked, after a moment and tipped his head just slightly to the side in thought. Added a new line to the sketch. “I've never lived anywhere else, but… you hear all sorts of things about Holds.” A laconic half-shrug. “The Weyr _is_ generous. And my family is here. But… Maybe someday.”

Unconsciously, Gil tensed, his heart beating a little faster as the memories he usually kept locked deep inside him surfaced, brought back by that simple question. The bleak pit that had been the quarry at White Hollow, and all the misery it had hidden. The greed of the holder, the isolation and the bloody fights. His first instinct was to warn Tavhei against ever leaving the Weyr.

But it wasn't all like that. He thought of Rhysel and Amigene's cothold, their warmth, and how they'd not hesitated to take in and care for an injured stranger. Even at Emerald Falls, for all the flaws of the old Lord Holder, there had been good times and friendships.

"It's different, that's true," he said eventually. "People aren't as...open. There are expectations. Sometimes you have to keep what you're thinking inside, in order to get by. But maybe that's natural. No one can just fly away when they want, you have to live with your fellow holders... There are good people there. It'd be an experience for you, if you took a craft posting at a hold, that's for certain."

“I know that I couldn’t be as… open.” Tavhei said, a little stiffly, “Everyone knows _that_. They expect people to marry. Have families.” He exhaled slowly, slid Gil an unreadable look before he moved on. “But it would be good experience. And a good artist can be valuable.”

"It'd be a change of scenery, at least. I've heard the Harper Hall looks after their people." Gil thought back to his conversation with the Hallsecond, not long after he'd come to Dolphin Cove. She'd been stern and relentless in her questioning, but she'd believed him and helped him clear his name. "I expect they'd find you a good place, if you wanted."

“.... Maybe.” Tavhei agreed, and let out a sigh that was almost wistful. “It doesn’t matter, though, I suppose.” He added, and drew another line, contoured in some shading.

"Something to think over, perhaps." Gil wondered about the artist's words, but once again his instincts told him he was getting too close to a personal matter, something one wouldn't confide in a stranger, and he said no more. "I'd better stop distracting you and get on back to work. Maybe I'll see you around?"

“... Maybe.” Tavhei allowed. “Talk to Talryne, later, if you still want the sketches or copies.” He added. “She knows where to find me most of the time. Or find Loseth.”

Last updated on the May 24th 2026

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I Know That Dragon