[Solo DRP] We Are What We Are (O'len/Aleyath)

[Smerdle]

drabbles

 

[Smerdle]

oil

"I'm not sure how they get rid of the odor, to be honest."

Had this been anyone else, especially an attractive human someone, O'len might have tried to concoct an interesting story explaining why the oil he used on his dragonet didn't smell like whatever animal they got it out of, but with Aleyath he didn't bother. On the one hand, the brown was already aware that His didn't actually know, and on the other, he didn't want to encourage Aleyath to start lying at such a young age. He had a suspicion that the difference between doing so maliciously and doing it to be impressive would be lost on the dragon.

Will you ever have to make some? Maybe we can find out then.

O'len nodded, unsure of that as well. "Or I can just ask. Either way, I'll find out for you." If he even cared in a week. The hatchling's attention span was nothing to write home about.

Aleyath scrunched his muzzle slightly in disgust. It was adorable. I'll care. I wanna make sure I'm never gonna smell like fish.

Another thing to work on. Keeping his mind closed, at least until Aleyath was grown. There were some things the dragon didn't need to know.

 

[Smerdle]

letter

Lillis and Ursel are weird names.

Try as he might, it seemed that O'len lacked the control necessary to separate his mind from his dragon's. It wasn't that he wanted to do so in the strictest sense, he had just assumed that it might be better for Aleyath to be shielded from such constant exposure to an adult's thoughts while he was still so impressionable. Some days O'len pondered simply giving in and allowing all of his private frustrations and fears to pummel his dragon without fighting them, but most of the time he used his surprise bursts of homesickness, anger, and spite as opportunities to practice fortifying his mental walls. So far, all of his attempts to do so had ended in a clumsy burst of warmth and support from Aleyath, a sure sign that his emotions were getting through every time.

"I never really thought about it. They're no weirder than Vimiath and Blundarth though, if I'm being honest."

Aleyath let out a squeaky honk, a sound that O'len had learned to interpret as teehee.

But my Da's missing a leg.

"Then you win, clearly." O'len chuckled, running his fingers from eye ridges to headknobs. "Do you want to help me write home?"

I can't write.

"But you can read." One letter. O. Whenever Aleyath saw printed text, he would announce every O as if he were introducing it at a fancy ball. "And I can help you sign your name at the end."

Aleyath's head lifted from its spot on O'len's chest, his eyes swirling a bright mix of grass and sky, and if that wasn't enough to indicate his interest, his brain was full of it.

Yeah? Yeah! Teach me how to write my name!

 

[Smerdle]

party schmarty

As a child, O'len had very rarely had a problem finding ways to keep himself occupied, especially on nights like tonight.

Turn's End.

Back home there had been jugglers and dancing, if you'd known where to find them, and special fish dishes, not like the ones he ate every day at all. He didn't know what he would find at Western come sundown, but he could only assume that it would be fun, and that sentiment was all that really seemed to rub off on Aleyath.

All we ever do is have parties. When're we gonna fight Thread?

The sound that squeezed its way out of O'len's throat was wholly undignified, and had his mirth stopped there, he might have been at a loss for words. He remained amused for quite a bit longer after that however, and rather than leave the people in the next six weyrs over wondering what was so funny, he held his tongue, sending an assurance that the dragon would be sick of Thread soon enough and to enjoy the parties while they lasted.

Eventually he added, "If there's music, you can dance again. That was fun, right?"

Hm. Yes. But that doesn't mean I want to do it again.

"You're against doing things more than once?" O'len expected a simple 'I didn't mean it like that' or something a little bit biting, since Aleyath was getting better at conveying sarcasm every day, but what he got instead gave him momentary pause.

Yeah, I kinda am.

It made sense, considering what he'd already seen, but it also suggested that staving off the brown's boredom in the future was going to be a nightmare.

 

[Smerdle]

obstacles

This was not ideal behavior for a dragon, no matter how new and foolish. That was what O'len kept trying to project, even as he mentally chuckled at Aleyath's mischievous antics. The young brown had taken to stealing, just simple trinkets that likely wouldn't be missed by their original owners, but stealing nonetheless. He wouldn't divulge who exactly he had stolen from, and given their connection, O'len could only conclude that it was because the dragon truly couldn't recall. It was either that or the beast was becoming a very good liar.

Instead of facing the impossible task of returning the stolen items, O'len chose to make a lesson out of them. A game. Early one sunny morning, about two weeks after he noticed the existence of Aleyath's little cache, he stole from that loot himself, setting up a winding maze of hidden treasures that ended near the water.

When O'len was almost back at the weyr, he felt Aleyath awaken, check his hoard, and send tiny, uncontrolled pips of unhappiness down their bond.

O'len?

Yes?

Have you seen my stuff?

Not yours. And yes, I have. Meet me outside.

He wouldn't have thought a baby dragon throwing a tantrum would be so... cute, but he should have known better, considering he was kind of biased toward this baby dragon in particular. Aleyath's eyes swirled an orangish-yellow as he stomped within reach of O'len's fingers, gaining flecks of blue as the weyrling reached down to scratch his head.

"I didn't take your things forever. Not like you did to the people you stole them from." Aleyath flinched a little at the word stole, but remained silent as his eyes settled on a wary acid green. "I hid them, and to get them back, you have to find them. And when that's all over, if you have fun, maybe I'll see about arranging for us to go exploring."

Exploring?

Going places no one has been to find things no one has ever seen. Secret things.

Aleyath pondered this, turning his face up into the light and closing his eyes as O'len continued to scratch.

Secret things you won't be mad at me for keeping?

I'm not mad. Just... frustrated.

Same thing.

Either way, yes.

Then I'll think about it. After I get my stuff back. Where do I start?

O'len smirked. "Follow me."

 

[Smerdle]

surprise

In the months that followed Vimiath's flight, O'len had tried his hardest to scour the event from his mind. While that night had ultimately brought him both Aleyath and an unshakable purpose, recalling anything else about it filled him with such embarrassment that he was loath to even try. The worst part, perhaps, was that he had apparently had no excuse for his behavior. As inevitable as it had seemed at the time, O'len had since learned that a gold's influence could be fought, and that revelation made him feel all the more piggish and crude.

He had quite deliberately avoided the kitchens after dark for months, afraid that he would be forced to face the girl he had fallen into bed with when all he wanted to do was forget. A part of him hoped she might eventually be transferred to another weyr for bad behavior or choose to move away on her own, but he knew these wishes were futile, cruel, and a little childish. He doubted there was any reason for her to be forced out, and she likely had family here that would ensure she would never want to leave.

Thankfully, he didn't obsess over his circumstances much. His dragon kept him too distracted to dwell on his uneasiness, and sidestepping the kitchens eventually became second nature. He was sure she must have put it out of her mind too, her frantic fumble with some green Candidate, but the next time he saw her, he found his assumption had been wrong. She hadn't forgotten at all. She couldn't forget.

Maela was just as pretty as he remembered, her honeyed brown hair swept up instead of loosely framing her face like it had that night. The only real difference in her appearance was that she was very clearly pregnant and it was very clearly his fault. The kernel of fear that had lived deep in his chest these past few months grew to envelop his heart in the space of a breath, and only Aleyath's solid bulk at his back kept him from taking a very abrupt seat in the dirt.

"Hello, Oerlen." He distantly registered that she was smiling, however brittle, and he could hear an answering one in his own voice when he replied. He couldn't imagine how it had gotten there when all he could feel was unrelenting terror. This was not what he wanted. This was not what he wanted. This was not—

"Hello." O'len swallowed. "You're looking..."

She's looking like a liar. Aleyath tucked his wings sharply against his body, the resulting breeze ruffling the humans' clothing. If you caught her when Dad did Mom, she would've laid her eggs by now.

O'len's eyes slid shut as he sighed, wondering where his dragon had been eavesdropping lately. "He said that out loud, didn't he?" He opened his eyes again, relieved to see that Maela was still amused or pleased or feeling whatever emotion was keeping that lovely smile on her face. "You look... very well. And I'm sorry."

She huffed out a self-deprecating laugh, then shook her head. "If I hadn't wanted it, I wouldn't have kept it, so there's nothing for you to be sorry for. I'm sorry that I couldn't tell you what I had decided sooner, but everyone said the news would upset..." Her eyes darted between O'len and the brown.

"Aleyath." He turned to pat his dragon on a speckled flank. "And technically, I'm O'len now." He tried to sound humble. It didn't quite work out.

"O'len." She lingered on his honorific as if testing it for durability. "I'm going to warn you in advance that I might slip up, so don't rest your ego on me." She almost held her grin in check, but it slipped out a little around the edges. O'len chuckled in response, a single thread of tension loosening and falling away. He still hadn't quite envisioned his life heading in this direction so soon, but Maela's apparent ease made the whole situation far easier to bear. He watched her take a tentative step closer to the dragon, and O'len gave them room as she bowed her head.

"It's a great honor to meet you, Aleyath."

The dragon's tail curled forward around his front legs. He sniffed. I guess. Are you really gonna have O'len's hatchlings?

"One... hatchling, yes."

O'len could see the gears turning in Aleyath's head. They were going to have to have a Talk later, weren't they.

Can I play with it?

She laughed. "As long as you're gentle. And only when it's awake."

Aleyath bobbed his head in a rather human nod. Yeah, all right. I don't want to hurt it. He extended his neck, touching his snout to her hair. It's nice to meet you too. If O'len doesn't think you're a liar, then I don't either. What he said wasn't true, any of it, but he wasn't here to make waves. This woman didn't appear to want anything from his rider, and based on the panicked acceptance and interesting images in O'len's mind, they definitely had a history of some sort.

After a moment of thought, Maela raised her hand and carefully brushed Aleyath's cheek. When he pushed his face into her palm with a whuff, she scratched at it rather vigorously, smiling when he closed his eyes. She continued for several minutes more, even after O'len broke the silence to speak.

"If you need anything, let me know."

"I'm well taken care of, but thank you. I'd like it if you came by to visit the baby when it arrives, but if you're busy..."

"I'll make myself unbusy. You'll be sick of me."

"Mm." The intensity of her rubbing and scratching had wound down, but Aleyath continued to hum and dig his claws into the dirt until she pulled away entirely. She might have been a liar, but she was a liar with excellent massage technique. She sighed softly before speaking again, the apples of her cheeks flushed a self-conscious pink.

"I should go. They're expecting me back."

"Yes. Okay. I... Can we walk you?" He hadn't felt this unsure of himself since he'd been a lanky thirteen-year-old doting on his first crush.

Maela glanced between the pair again, making some sort of silent assessment before cautiously nodding.

"I think I would like that very much."

 

[Smerdle]

a gift

Why don't you just... lie?

Despite the seemingly ill-spirited intent behind his dragon's suggestion, O'len had been making decent progress taming Aleyath's more dishonest impulses, at least from an outsider's perspective. The rate at which the brown had been stealing other weyrling's belongings had noticeably declined, and there was more to this change than just a growing lack of accessibility. The promise of adventure that came with the mastery of flight held the dragon in check these days, though it clearly hadn't stopped his more deviant trains of thought.

Tell them I fell in a well and the weyr is making you pay to get me out.

O'len snorted. They might have lived at Black Sand all my life, but that doesn't mean they don't know how weyrs work. Or wells.

Yeah. Maybe. Aleyath reached out, tapping his rider's arm with a claw. O'len?

"Hm?"

They won't hate you if you tell them, right? From what he had seen of O'len's parents in the man's head, there was little he could do to lose their love, but it still didn't hurt to ask.

No, they won't. O'len sighed. They'd be happy for me. He was the one who was embarrassed by his lack of control, though he hardly felt entitled to that shame now. These things happened when golds rose. If Maela didn't regret all of this, then he wouldn't either. Eventually. I just need some time.

Aleyath nodded, almost aggressively pressing his love and support through their bond. He hated the guilt that crept into O'len's thoughts when he should have been focused on them, and though he wanted to blame this kitchen woman for everything that had happened, O'len's mind told him not to.

Well, since you can't buy her anything good right now, maybe we can make her something sparkly? Or I... Aleyath blew a dramatic lungful of air out of his nose. I could give her something of mine, I guess. He really, really didn't want to, but he would if it would make O'len feel better.

A lengthy pause stretched between them, neither awkward nor expectant, and then an uncertain question tickled its way into Aleyath's head, making him wrinkle his nose.

You'd do that?

I mean... I wouldn't like it, but yeah. I'd do anything for you.

The corners of O'len's lips rose ever so slightly as he turned to plant a kiss on Aleyath's cheek, right beneath the dragon's greenish-yellow eye. I would never ask you to do that. And I'm sorry I've been preoccupied. Things will get better. I just need...

Time.

"Yes."

Aleyath rolled out of his lazy sprawl and up onto his haunches. So what do we do while we're waiting for time to go by?

Go to the beach?

To look for shells?

Exactly what I was thinking.

I'm sure a bunch of 'em on a string would make a real nice necklace. Y'know... for Maela.

O'len shifted his weight, reaching up to scratch at Aleyath's headknobs. "I'm sure we can gather up enough for the both of you."

 

[Smerdle]

practice

Maybe it was because he had once held this dragon in his arms and jogged across the hatching sands, but something deep inside O'len couldn't come to terms with the fact that Aleyath was now strong enough to return the favor.

I'd be offended, but y'know, nah.

It's not that I don't trust you.

Mmhm.

It's just... one wrong move... I don't think the healers can reset my spine. That is, if they ever even find me.

The brown didn't respond, he simply launched himself forward with only the barest of mental warnings, pushing off of the ground with a proud bugle. O'len clung to the dragon's dark neck, any exclamations of his own silenced by his lack of breath.

They were flying. Alone.

Yeah we are.

Aleyath raised his shoulder in a sharp nudge, jolting O'len's lungs back into action at the same time that they took a hard left over a bank of jagged rocks. All calm, all controlled. His dragon was very good at this.

O'len smiled, though no one could see. Of course he was.

 

[Smerdle]

kree

As a child, O'len had heard stories of people accidentally bonding with firelizards when they least expected to, like hatching eggs were prone to dropping out of the sky or rolling underfoot without warning. Despite his tendency to believe most of the things he was told with little initial resistance he had always doubted this, so when his own firelizard found him, he was pleased to see that he had been right all along. It was certainly a surprise to be offered an egg out of the blue, but nowhere near the spectacle he had been told some experienced.

O'len's egg came to him on an utterly uneventful morning as he and his dragon crossed the bowl on their way to a lesson. A man—older than the brownrider but only barely—was headed in the opposite direction at quite the rapid clip, so when his shoulder slammed hard into O'len's, it wasn't a surprise when he lost his grip on what he held.

In a moment of grace so sudden that he was certain it would never be repeated, the weyrling reached out and scooped the satchel out of the air so smoothly that it was as if it had never been dropped. The other young man stared up at O'len as if he had just granted a miracle, then reached into the bag once it had been reclaimed and produced a small, orange egg, pressing it into the rider's hands before he could think to protest.

"You owe me, yeah?" he said with a chuckle and a gap-toothed grin. And then, he was gone.

"I owe him? But I'm the one who—" O'len sighed, deciding that train of thought wasn't worth his time. The likelihood of both the egg being viable and that man ever finding him again were so low that they didn't merit the worry.

The egg lay motionless in his palm, no closer to hatching than it had been before it'd been jostled. He could have given it away long before it hatched and that would have been that. But he didn't. He waited the week or so it took to finish incubating, fully aware of the commitment the flit would be and not at all surprised when it was born.

When he was born. Aleyath named the new little brown Kree.

 

[Smerdle]

lindir is here

 

[Smerdle]

wandering spirit

It wasn't anything he couldn't handle. He wasn't a baby after all. He was a capable dragon. A credit to his Wing and his Weyr, Illiandinth had said. He had been bred to fight Thread.

So why did he never want to do it again?

Aleyath tucked his right wing close and rolled onto his back, his pale underbelly nearly shimmering in the autumn sun. He was bored and overwhelmed all at once, thrilled by the danger, the heroism of his duty, and horrified that he might be forced to do that duty...



F̡̃O̓̃҉͎R͉̱̜͙̯̹͂̒̓ͮ̓̔̅E̻͎͖͋̌̇̿̉̃̏͞V̢̄͑ͭ͛̀̌͑E͇̣̔ͦ̏R̟͚.͚̮͋͗͒̿̂


Aleyath? O'len's steady mental voice preceded his appearance on their ledge, calming the dragon considerably even before he stepped into view. The man was Aleyath's anchor once more, and the brown was beyond grateful that he remained O'len's top priority. He'd had... concerns. But Lindir wasn't so bad as far as human hatchlings were concerned, even if the infant did seem fairly intent on jamming his tiny fists into Aleyath's eyes whenever he was brought too close. He opened those eyes now, turning their swirling yellow-green depths on his rider.

Yes, O'len?

How's your shoulder?

Aleyath's first taste of Threadscore was currently pressed between his bulk and the stone beneath him, but it didn't hurt.

In about a trillion percent pain.

Don't joke. O'len snorted, reaching out to pat his dragon's flank. Or rather do joke, just not about this.

Can I joke about how tender your posterior is?

Yes. He didn't bother to fault the straps for his bruises. Next time he'd do better.

All right. Aleyath remained silent as O'len took a seat near his head and got to scratching, paying special attention to the spots just behind his headknobs that he couldn't quite get to on his own. I can't come up with anything good.

Do you feel better?

Mm. More silence. Then...

Are we stuck here? I don't... I know this is our job, but doing it for the rest of our lives... dying fighting Thread... He huffed. I have places to see. I don't want to.

O'len couldn't come up with a reply at first, mostly because Aleyath wasn't wrong. The return of Thread bound them to their weyr and increased the likelihood that they would die in service to it. He tried not to think about it.

Look. Thread isn't fun. We both know that. But we can make it fun.

I doubt it. Aleyath sighed.

Just trust me. And anyway, once we've graduated, we can go wherever we want. Within reason.

I don't think I'm cut out to be a searchdragon.

There are other tasks to be done away from Western Weyr.

Aleyath raised his head just a little, scooting closer to O'len inch by inch until he could lower it again into his rider's lap. He didn't want to argue or discuss or do whatever it was they were doing. He didn't want to think. He just wanted to fly, to explore Pern without an agenda or an assignment.

Things won't seem so dire in a few months. You'll see.

The dragon closed his eyes. If you say so.

 

[Smerdle]

afterglow

O'len didn't return to his weyr until a little past noon the next day. Aleyath had plenty of warning that he was on his way, of course, but he still didn't speak to his rider during the entirety of his walk back. The dragon was far from angry, he simply thought the silent treatment was particularly funny during this, O'len's walk of shame.

As he climbed the ladder to the landing of their beachside home, Aleyath rolled to face him, eyes a satisfied blue.

"Nice night?"

You first. Aleyath yawned, sending O'len a simultaneous spark of mental amusement that ran completely contrary to his disinterested outward snark.

The man chuckled, scratching at his brown's stomach on the way toward his head. "My evening was glorious." He snorted at his pompous turn of phrase. "Fabulous. Marvelous. Delightful."

Heartwarming?

"Yes. That's a good word for it. Maela and I had a talk about our feelings and my obligations and—"

But before all that you ran off to get cuddly together in a spare room. Naked.

"Well... um... yes?" O'len's cheeks went from sun-kissed to blazing in a second or two, and Aleyath responded with another lazy brush of love. They were silent for a minute, one anxious and one smug, until...

Y'know, sometimes I wish I could go back like dragons used to and stop you from screwing up so badly with all of this.

All of what?

This. Me. You. It doesn't bother me like it used to, but... His eyes swirled with conflicting colors for a breath or two, a spot of sun mixed into a vat of sky. For a long time I was worried you might pick them over me.

"Aleyath..."

I know that you love me and that we would die without each other or whatever, but you were so quiet and in your head a lot back then, and that wasn't who I'd Impressed. And it was all 'cause you felt guilty for having a little fun like you always used to and not thinking it'd backfire into this huge responsibility, and even though I was young—

You still are.

Maybe. But... I'm not a hatchling. When we first heard the news about Lindir, I was so confused and angry. You were feeling all these terrible things so strongly, and I thought maybe I'd made a mistake, that maybe you wanted a family more than a dragon. I think I made it more about what you'd done, like if I ever did the same, it'd be all pew pew pew Thread's here, everyone's dead. And then... metallics and... He went quiet as O'len crowded close and folded himself forward over the brown's neck.

"I'm so sorry."

It's okay. Aleyath nuzzled closer for a second then wiggled O'len away. Things are pretty much fixed now, yeah? I think I was waiting for Seirath to rise because... she's Seirath and I knew deep down that chasing her would be a good time, but yeah... now... I... just go have fun. Spend all the nights with Maela you want. No judgment, no jealousy, no worrying. Really. I didn't know then what I know now, and now I know...

O'len was trying his best to be serious and supportive in the face of this newly unearthed trauma he hadn't known he had caused, but something in the dragon's contented tone made him smirk, that smirk quickly turning into an outright guffaw.

"I have the strangest urge to ask you again... nice night?"

Aleyath sighed. The nicest.

Do you want to talk about it?

I am very all right not talking about it ever. But thanks for asking. He pushed his neck back into his rider's lap. Love you, O'len.

"I love you too, you big wherry."