Precautionary Measures [Treyjen]

[Zen]

10th Pass, 6th Turn, 5th Month
Two Weeks After Chaos, Mostly

When the island of Mavros came into view on the horizon, most of the crew on the Storm’s Eye seemed to set into their work with a deal more focus, as though working harder might somehow encourage the wind to do the same, and bring them to the island all that much faster. Treyjen couldn’t help but laugh at the thought as he stood at the helm. For most of them, it meant personal time, time to spend with wives and families. However, Treyjen was concerned about the possible uncertainties they would soon arrive to. Zalmaranth had risen during second month for the last two turns. Second month was three months past. A’zael had told him queens usually only rose to mate once every two turns during a Pass, but in Weyrs lacking queens it wasn’t unusual for them to rise more often.

So that left the question, had she risen this turn? Mavros had five golds now, and from what he knew about the other Weyrs on Pern, that was no small amount. Is that all it would take to change her mating patterns? And if she had risen, was A’zael still Weyrleader? It would not be ideal to have to start over again with a stranger, and there was no telling how well they might be received by someone new. Most of his crew was unconcerned with such things, they just wanted to see their families, but as Mavros grew larger as they drew closer across the water, it was something that very much concerned Treyjen. On his shoulder, Pearl hissed, wings flaring as she sensed his mood, her eyes whirling red, prepared to attack whatever had Hers upset.

“Hush,” he muttered back at her, though he reached up to rub a finger under her chin. She crooned, placated for the moment. The little creature had quickly grown possessive of him, and he couldn’t help but find amusement in it. How many times had he told a woman he would never belong to them, and here this tiny gold beast had claimed him handily. And she was a jealous little thing too. She did not like other females. He had to send her away whenever he spent time with Yelanna, though she had become a decent deterrent for his sister.

He cast a glance backward, to the Bright Wing and the Sea Dragon behind her. They had orders to wait, not to pull into the harbor until they’d been sent word on the state of things in Mavros. If there was a new Weyrleader, and that Weyrleader would sooner see them pay for their crimes than accept their help, there was no reason all three ships ought to get trapped. He could tell Karosh was already falling back with the Sea Dragon, but it looked like Nalyra was either pushing her luck with getting closer or had decided against his orders altogether. His irritation had Pearl hissing again.

But when they pulled into the great harbor cave, they were the only ones, and the Bright Wing was nowhere in sight behind them. The crew he had with him was a skeleton crew, just in case, and he’d sent the others to whichever of the two other ships they cared to join, should the Storm’s Eye be taken. Precautionary measures he hoped would be ultimately unnecessary. Karosh had offered to scout it out instead, as he always did when they were uncertain what they were returning to. He always offered, knowing Treyjen would always refuse. If he could sail the Storm’s Eye into harbor alone he would, but even he required some assistance. One man couldn’t sail a ship this size on his own.

Docking procedures complete, the gangplank was lowered into place and he allowed the men that came with him to go find their families, watching them descend to land from the ship. He was mildly surprised to see Mialli waiting, and once the gangplank was clear she started up it, their daughter on her hip. Pearl hissed at the sight of her. Treyjen shot the spitter a look, growling impatiently, “Off with you. Back to your pool if you won’t behave.” Tossing her head and screeching in protest, she took off from his shoulder and darted back into his quarters. Beast always had to get the last word in.

Trillia reached for him as her mother stepped onto the deck and he stepped forward to take her, “Hey there, love. How’s my little shipfish, eh?”

“I caughted a fishy, daddy!” she giggled and hugged his neck.

“Did you now?” he quirked a brow at Mialli, who seemed amused.

“Indeed. It was so big I had to help her with it,” Mialli shook her head slightly, indicating that it was, in actuality, not that large.

“Well, when are you gonna start heading out with the fishers then? Clearly they could use someone with your skill, hm?” he reached up to tap her on the nose with one finger and she giggled again, then tossed a displeased look at her mother.

“Momma won’t lemme. Can I come wiff you, daddy?”

Treyjen drew in a sharp breath, “I’m a trader, not a fisher, love. Afraid your skills would be wasted with me.” She frowned. He set her down and ruffled her hair, “Why don’t you go play with the wheel for a moment so I can talk to your mother.”

She seemed to like that idea and ran off across the deck to climb the stairs up to the ship’s wheel. Mialli eyed him, “Very smooth.”

Treyjen shrugged, getting to the point, “Has there been any change in leadership?”

Mialli leaned back against the deck wall, shaking her head, “Zalmaranth hasn’t risen.” Treyjen blew out his breath in relief at that news, “You know sometimes I wonder, what visit will be the last time she ever sees you.”

“Mia…,” his tone edged into a warning growl.

“Well it’s a real possibility, Treyjen. And I worry about it. I worry for her. She loves you. You’re safe this time but what if there is a leadership change and then….”

They both watched their daughter in silence a moment, obviously pretending to steer the ship on some sort of fantasy voyage. “I’ll navigate those waters when and if I reach them,” he spoke eventually, glancing back over at Mialli, “I have to alert the Sea Dragon and the Bright Wing that it’s safe.”

He started to walk away but she followed him, “When will she be able to spend some time with you? The older she gets, the more she asks for you.”

“You know I’ve work to do first. I’ll let you know when it’s done.”

She stopped, “Nice to know where she ranks.”

It was only a glance up at the girl that kept the quick flash of his temper in check at the accusation. He turned back to Mialli and lowered his voice, “Get off my ship, before I say or do something I’ll regret.”

“Gladly,” she snapped back, “Come on, Trill! Your father has work to do.”

Trillia scampered down the stairs to her mother’s side, waving behind her, “Bye, daddy!”

Treyjen managed a smile for her and quickly made his way back into his quarters. He took a deep drink from his aleskin before he did anything else. Pearl hissed from her little pool of water, red eyes whirling at him. He growled at her, “Come here, then. I’ve got a job for you.” Karosh knew to expect Pearl as a sign to come in to dock, and he would send word with some other creature to Nalyra, since his sister had forbidden the spitter on her ship. He was sure Pearl would attack her if she was sent to the Bright Wing. He impressed the image of Karosh upon the young gold, “Go.” Surprisingly, she actually liked Karosh - he always gave her treats and scratches - so she left him eagerly.

Alone, Treyjen sank into a chair and set about trying to enjoy his ale while he waited for the rest of the crew to arrive.

They were about the same age. Would he be around much longer, would he see his daughter grow any older than he had his son? He drank deep, trying to drown the thought, and the many more that came with it. How old was he now? Did he remember him at all? What had he been told when his father never returned for him, when he’d broken his promise? Shells but what good was his word at all if he couldn’t even keep a promise to his son?

More ale. He needed more ale.

---

It was Yelanna that found him first, still drinking in his quarters when she came to the doorway to find him, to tell him the Bright Wing was docked and the Sea Dragon nearly so as well. He didn’t acknowledge her, didn’t show any indication at all he knew she was there, but she knew better. She entered the room and closed the door behind her, speaking softly, “And here I thought you would be in a good mood… what’s wrong?”

He took another drink, still didn’t look at her as she made her way over to him, until she was right in front of him. He reached out to wrap an arm around her waist, pulled her onto his lap, “No talking,” and then his mouth was on hers. He tasted very strongly of ale. Still concerned, she gave him what he wanted and didn’t try to press the matter. If he needed a distraction, she would give him one. When Karosh came to the door, she answered for him and sent the man away, and then she locked the door.

Laying in bed with him, she traced a finger over various scars on his chest, and finally sighed, breaking the silence that had fallen. “One of these days…,” her hand slid up to cup his cheek, make him look at her, “You’re going to have to stop drowning your problems in alcohol and hiding from them under your blankets.” A small smirk tugged at her lips.

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” he insisted, running fingers through her hair absently.

“Mmhm,” she pressed a quick kiss to his lips and laid her head back on his chest.

She closed her eyes as silence fell between them once more. Curious as she was, she knew better than to pry. Treyjen opened up to her like he did few others in his life, but only on his own terms. Finally he drew in a deep breath, let it out in an impatient rush.

“Mia thinks I’m not doing enough as a father…. She’s not wrong.”

His admission of agreement was quiet and strained, and before she could respond he had shifted her away so he could sit up, run his hands through his hair and over his face. She sat up with him, running her hands over his back soothingly, “You’re doing what you can-”

“I’m not. I’m too sharding selfish to be a good father. I’m-” he drew in another long breath, unable to finish the thought.

But she knew where it led. “You are a good father, Treyjen. You love her, you want what’s best for her-”

“If that was true I would give more to her. More of me. More of my time. She would… she would be more of a priority. I’m not…,” he shook his head slowly, “Or maybe I wouldn’t have insisted on being part of her life to begin with.”

“She’s your daughter… why shouldn’t you be part of her life?”

“Because her life would be better without me in it!” he snapped, shrugged off her touch, “I should have let Mia find another man to act as her father. Should have left them both well enough alone. She’s right. I’ll abandon her sooner or later. It’s just a matter of time. It would have been better if she never knew me.”

“You don’t know that-”

He turned, taking Yelanna’s chin in his hand, nearly snarled at her, “If you think what we have here at Mavros can last, you’re a little fool. There will come a time we’re no longer welcome here.” He released her, snatched his hand back, “... You should go.”

At times like this it was difficult to judge when she should just listen to him and when she should stay, when she might still be able to calm him down. But this wasn’t something he could fix on his own. There were no throats to slit that would solve the problem and give him peace of mind. He was good at handling his problems when there was a physical opponent he could challenge, subdue, kill. But when his enemy was intangible….

Gently, she laid her hand on his arm, felt him tense under her touch, “No talking.” He looked back at her, half annoyed, half confused, and she continued, “Plan for tomorrow, live for today.” Her hand slid down his arm, clasped his hand, tugged him gently back toward her, “Live with me.” She wasn’t a fool. She knew what he said was, if not a certainty, highly probable. But they had no way of knowing how much longer they had until they would no longer be welcome at Mavros and worrying about when that day would come was useless. He was working himself all up over an uncertainty. She had to get his mind out of the unknowable future and back into the present.

“Ye-”

She silenced him with her mouth on his as he allowed her to pull him down with her, murmuring against his lips, “No talking.”

“Mm,” he agreed, and found other ways to occupy his mouth instead.