Post by Zen on Mar 20, 2018 1:01:28 GMT -5
Immediately After In Spite Of Tidewalk
Lord Divano was with his favorite runnerbeast when the four returned to the hold proper. The two boys had pelted Kenessia with question after question on the walk back. At first Delvish had tried to quiet them, but the greenrider assured him that it was fine. Delvish lengethened his stride to approach the Lord of Tidewalk ahead of the other three, “Father, a rider from Mavros is here to speak with you.” Lord Divano stroked the creature's dark neck, turned to regard his son and the guest he had brought with him as Kenessia and the boys caught up. Delvish introduced her, “Greenrider Kenessia.”
“Of Nimiath,” the young woman added, quickly warning her green not to land so she wouldn't spook the Lord's runner, and to keep high and out of the beast's sight. “It is a pleasure to meet you, my lord.”
“Is it?” the older man quirked an eyebrow at her.
She paused at that, unsure how to respond, but then she laughed, “I suppose that remains to be seen?”
A smile quirked the lord's lips and he glanced at his son, “I like this one far better than that bluerider.”
Kenessia laughed again, “Well, that is a relief. I cared little for him myself.”
“Mm. So why are you here, greenrider?”
“She said I can be a rider!” Novarel broke in, beaming at his father.
The Lord's brow furrowed consideringly at his youngest son before his gaze flicked first to Kenessia and then to Delvish, “That bluerider has never made a peep about Searching him.”
“R'kal was there when Kenessia Searched him, actually.... Apparently T'mal has forbidden the Search of Blooded children 'out of respect to our family after certain failures of the Weyr', in his own words,” Delvish snorted at that.
“Certain failures indeed,” Divano's voice took on a growl, and he eyed the greenrider, “Mavros takes no issue Searching Blooded children for a Weyr with such a terrible reputation?”
Kenessia considered her words for a moment, “With all due respect, I feel that our reputation has been much exaggerated by the other Weyrs, especially those in the south, who see us as a threat after their failure to properly prepare for Thread's return. It is no lie that we struggle, but we know our duty to Pern and do not shirk it, no matter the difficulties we face.”
Divano considered the greenrider for a long moment, until Novarel broke in once more, “So can I go or not?”
“Nova...,” Delvish scolded for the umpteenth time.
Divano did not deign to answer his son immediately, returning his attention to the rider, “Would you excuse us for a moment, greenrider? I would like to speak with my son privately.” He handed the reigns to a stablehand, trusting the young man to see his runner put away.
Kenessia bowed her head slightly, “Of course. I'll... tend to my dragon in the mean time.” She turned, looked down at Delvirin and up at the boy's father, “Would it be all right for him to meet Nimiath properly?”
The three walked away as the green winged lower, and Divano waved Novarel in the opposite direction, getting to the heart of the matter, “Why do you want to be a rider?”
Novarel wasn't surprised by the question. His father always asked him that when he came up with some new possibility for his future. He asked tons of questions. And usually in the course of answering he got bored with it and decided he didn't want to do it after all. Not this time. “For lots of reasons.”
Divano gave a low grunt, “Specifics, Novarel. You know I don't accept vague answers. Especially not in this. You have never once shown interest in becoming a rider.”
“That's just because I didn't think you'd let me,” he admitted with some amount of frustration, “You hate the Weyrs. Besides R'kal and his blue have been around a ton and they've never Searched me so I... it just didn't seem like there was any point bringing it up....”
Divano paused to look down at the boy, frowning slightly, “Novarel, I would always take anything you wish to do into consideration... but I understand why you would feel that way. I could not in good conscious present you for Search to a Tidewalk rider. There are other Weyrs, however... so if this is something you truly want, then I will consider it. Now tell me. Why do you want to be a rider?”
The boy glanced away briefly, trying to find the right words, “I... it's just... I know I get bored with things... I'm bad at finishing stuff. But. Well. With my firelizards, I've never gotten bored, and how could you get bored of a dragon?”
“A dragon is not a pet, Nova,” Divano chided his son, and Novarel shook his head.
“I know that. That's not what I mean. It's just... it's something I know I could do forever. I've... I've never felt that way about anything,” he murmured.
“Do you know, or do you think you know? Do you understand what it means to be a rider? It is not just caring for your dragon and flying about as you please. It is the most dangerous path you could take in life. Do you understand that?” Divano studied his son, for he knew there had be more to the desire. Novarel had just never been very good at expressing such things. It took some work. Most of the time he gave up, but if it really meant as much as he said it did, then he expected the boy to fight for it. Especially this. If Novarel couldn't stick through a conversation of why he wanted to be a rider then he was not going to let his son risk his life for something he may not even really want.
“Father, I'm not stupid,” Novarel insisted, stung that Divano didn't think he understood what dragonriders did, that he thought it was all just some fun game like he was just a child. That maybe his father thought what he tried very hard to deny. “I'm not...,” he swallowed a lump of emotion that had formed in his throat, looking warily up at the man, “You... you don't think I'm stupid, do you?” He could never seem to stick with anything, finish anything. He was terrible at math, at reading and writing. He couldn't sit still in his lessons, couldn't focus on the things the harpers tried to teach him. There was something wrong with him, of that he was certain. But maybe he was just stupid. Maybe that's exactly what was wrong with him.
“Of course not,” Divano turned to rest both hands on his son's shoulders, “Novarel, you are not stupid. How could you ever believe that is how I think of you?”
“Because I... there's something wrong with me. In my head.... Something... broken,” he struggled to find the right words. He'd never told anyone about his insecurities before. But after talking to Kenessia, hearing what it was like to Impress.... He used the greenriders words to supplement his own, “Kenessia said Impression is just like the stories. That when your dragon finds you, it's like finding a missing part of you... like you're suddenly whole... complete. And... maybe... maybe a dragon could fix me.”
Divano took a moment to respond to that. He knew his son struggled, but he had not known how much it really affected him. He was always so cheerful, lighthearted... and he was suddenly concerned with just how much the boy might be keeping to himself. His voice when firm when he spoke at last, “Nova... you are not broken. You do not need anything to fix you. If that's the only reason-”
“Father, please... please.... I don't know what else to do.... I want to do something that will make you and mother proud of me.... And... and I don't really know what happened with the Weyrs when Thread started falling again, but if I was a rider I wouldn't have let it happen. I want to do something... I want to be able to... to make a difference. And a dragon... having a partner like that... I want that,” he looked up at his father, pleadingly, begging silently for him to understand, “There's so many reasons I want this. Please.” Still draped across his shoulders, Dusty raised his head to peep meaningfully at the Lord.
Divano supposed the partnership with a dragon was a decent point. A rider's bond with their dragon could only be severed by death, and it could very well prove to be just the motivation Novarel needed. It seemed he was putting some thought into this even if he was hardly eloquent in articulating it. The boy had some admirable reasons, full of naive optimism as they were. But that was part of a parent's job, to be the sense their children lacked. Just because the boy was Searched didn't mean he would Impress, and he brought up the point, though he allowed a softening of his voice, for he didn't want to come off disapproving, “And if you do not Impress? What will you do then? Impression is not guaranteed.”
“I...,” he hadn't really thought about that. He had plenty of time to Stand, after all, he was sure he would Impress. But... he supposed his father was right. There was always the possibility that no dragon would ever find him. He didn't like to think it was a possibility, but his father always pointed out the things he didn't want to think about.
“If this is something you truly want... I will support you, Novarel. However, I do not want you to waste your youth in the Weyr and come away empty handed. If I am to let you go, I want you have a plan for not Impressing, and I want it to be something you can work towards even during your candidacy. I expect that you will not be idle at the Weyr between clutches. Mavros is a Weyrhold. There should be plenty of opportunity for a variety of study for you there,” he paused to let that sink in, waiting patiently for his son's response.
His father would support him! He nearly missed the rest of what the man said, but took a deep breath and thought it over for a moment, determined now. He was half way there. He just needed to come up with a back-up plan his father would find acceptable. “Uhm... well... maybe... they have beastcrafters I could learn from?” he offered hesitantly. He did like animals. Out of all the crafts he'd considered so far, he had come back around to the beastcraft on several occasions.
“Hm. That hardly sounded like a solid plan to me,” Divano chided lightly. He did not want hemming and hawing over the matter. He wanted something both he and Novarel could be confident he would actually follow through with, “Do not give me 'maybes' this time. Tell me what you plan to do.”
With a short grunt of complaint, Novarel put a bit more thought into it. Did he really want to be a beastcrafter if he didn't Impress? What else could he do? “It would help to ask Kenessia about what sorts of things I could learn at Mavros,” he replied at last. Obviously the beastcraft was an option, Weyrs kept herdbeasts to feed both human and dragon population, but he wasn't sure what other options might be available to him.
Divano offered a small smile at that, “That is indeed a good next step. However, before we return to the greenrider, I have one more condition to this.” Novarel nodded eagerly, staring up at him impatiently, “Two turns. I'll give you two turns at the Weyr. If you do not Impress in that time, you come home and pursue your chosen craft fully.”
Novarel made a face at that. Two turns was hardly any time at all! He frowned a bit, thinking on it, but it wasn't like he really had much of a choice. He sighed, “Fine.” Then he grinned, regaining some of his normal demeanor, “I'll have my dragon before then anyway.”
His father laughed, turning back toward where the rider and her dragon were entertaining Delvirin, “I hope you do, Nova. I want nothing more than to see you achieve everything you desire from life.” He reached over to ruffle the boy's hair in a rare show of affection, “Come. Let us get our many questions answered.”
