Eyes Like Yours Can't Look Away [Taxx]

[Zen]

Following Everyone's First Time Is Bad

Treyjen

Yva’s unexpected appearance on his ship only days ago had given him quite the shock. For a few moments there had been real fear in him, fear that their time at Mavros was about to come to an end and the place his crew had come to call home would be lost to them forever, all because his damned father had decided to show up at just the wrong time. It wasn’t often Treyjen felt any sort of fear, but in those few moments his conversation with Mialli had come back, the fears he had expressed to Yelanna. Though his niece had laid his fears to rest soon enough, he had spent most of the rest of the day silently agonizing over trying to spend more time with his daughter or starting to distance himself even more from her. The fear of losing Mavros nagged at him throughout the next several days, wouldn’t leave him alone. So he’d been rather drunk the last couple days, because lost in the bottle those fears just floated away. And some female company to share his bed hadn’t hurt either.

Having finally drowned his fears for the time being, he was sober, mostly, and decided to take a stroll down the beach just for a chance to get out of the sharding caverns. The sun, the wind, and the sea were a welcome change from the dank caves the people of Mavros chose to house themselves in. As he was walking down the beach he caught sight of a group of dragons in the sky over the sea, flames bursting from their maws high up in the air. Hm, interesting. He tried to see if he could spot A’zael’s bronze up there, but he didn’t see Fath’s distinctive bright hide, which should have been rather easy to pick out even from the heights they were flying. But he did spot a white dragon.

Ah, the weyrlings that had traveled back in time then. He had heard plenty of talk about the white dragon that had apparently led them all back home. He watched the creature for a while. He’d like to see it up close. He knew of the famous Ruth, though he had been skeptical that the apparent first white dragon of Pern was even real and not just some old tale until he’d heard of this one. He would have to introduce himself to the creature’s rider later. He wasn’t entirely sure where a white dragon fit in the hierarchy of the Weyr, but he was curious. And he’d also heard white dragons could travel through time much more safely than the other colors, for whatever reason. He would like to know if that was true or not. Surely the rider would be able to tell him.

It was all rather chaotic up there. He tried to pick out the bronzes in the clutch, or rather two clutches. If he’d heard right there were two of them. Two possible future Weyrleaders. Well, the browns were possibilities as well, but no man with half a brain would bet on a brown over a bronze when it came to Weyrleadership. Treyjen was no fan of the rigid hierarchy of dragons, certainly had nothing against brown dragons or their riders, but he was also a realist. On all of Pern there was exactly one brownriding Weyrleader at the moment. Those were hardly good odds.

It wasn’t long before the exercise came to an end, the dragons dispersing, and Treyjen was left without an aerial show to entertain him. He lifted his aleskin to his lips and took a drink, continuing on his walk along the beach. He supposed he would head back soon, maybe find some new company to entertain himself with instead.

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Codrath landed on the beach, free of the straps and of the lesson that had kept him in the air for the past two hours. Hardly winded, without the slightest ache in his wings the smaller dragons would be feeling, he settled in the warm sand, reaching his front paws into the waves that washed up, hind paws kicking back in a show of utter contentment. His head swiveled around, pausing briefly at the sight of the man walking toward him, before moving to the path L'rey would take to join him.

His tail flipped, a deep rumble coming from him as he spotted his rider, running toward him over the beach. On his feet in a bound, Codrath launched himself toward L'rey, who skidded to a halt and flung up his arms to protect his face against the sand that flew as the big bronze landed barely five feet from him. "Pest!" he yelled at the bronze, who rumbled deeply and edged closer so that his nose ever so gently bumped into L'rey's chest, and the boy's hands patted his muzzle.

A glimpse of the man out of the corner of his eye pulled L'rey's attention toward him, and in a moment Codrath straightened, all regal bearing again, staring down at the stranger while he stood over L'rey, his chest just clearing the top of his rider's head. L'rey, though was more inclined to be politely courteous, offering a raised hand and a word of acknowledgement while his other arm wrapped around Codrath's tree-trunk legs as much as possible. "Hello."
Zen

[Zen]

Treyjen

It was all but impossible to miss the bronze dragon as he descended onto the beach and Treyjen watched him as the creature seemed to be enjoying the surf and the sand. It didn’t appear that the beast’s rider was with him, however, and he was just beginning to consider turning back rather than risk offending the bronze somehow without a rider to mediate when a boy appeared, heading toward the dragon. The interaction that followed was somewhat amusing, not entirely expected of a bronze, but Pern’s generalized expectations were never anything Treyjen had much cared for.

Feeling that an interspecies misunderstanding of some sort could now be safely avoided, he continued on his path. After all, he didn’t recognize this bronze, so he didn’t think he’d probably ever met the rider before. It wouldn’t hurt to introduce himself.

He tied his aleskin back onto his belt as he made his way closer and couldn’t help but think the bronze seemed small for his color. He recalled A’zael telling him that Fath wasn’t all that large for a bronze, and this one seemed smaller than the Weyrleader’s dragon. And judging by the youth on his rider’s face, it was safe to assume they were both weyrlings. The bronze’s coloring looked somewhat like one of the dragons in the exercise he had been watching earlier, but from the height they’d been flying it was hard to be sure.

The boy greeted him as he got close enough, his bronze looming, and Treyjen lifted a hand in return. “Well met, young bronzerider. You and your fine dragon didn’t happen to be participating in all that flying and flaming earlier, did you? It was all rather impressive to watch.” A bit of flattery never hurt, if the pair had even participated, and it had been impressive to watch. It certainly wasn’t something he was used to seeing. Whether the bronze and his rider had been up there or not, perhaps he could shed some light onto just what had been happening. “What exactly was all that, anyway? It was hard to tell just what was happening from all the way down here.”

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"We were!" Pride at the acknowledgement and praise of he and his dragon colored L'rey's tone, and he grinned. "It was a practice, for when we're graduated and ready to fight Thread. Getting used to flying as a Wing and how it feels to fly in as close to a Fall as we can get at this point." He hadn't really thought about anyone watching, and knowing that this man had been made him wonder how many else had stopped what they had been doing to watch the practice. This man- a visitor, perhaps, though there was a strange sort of familiarity about him that nagged at L'rey- hadn't known what he'd been looking at, but most of the Weyr would.

"This was just our first. We'll probably have more, and they'll probably turn out better." Which was the hope, anyway. It was easy enough when the biggest threat was the thought of having to clean dust from hide and clothing later, when those who fought the real thing risked so much more. But practice made going through the motions of fighting in a wing, and practicing the maneuvers of dodging and flaming made them feel second nature.

"Maybe if you stick around, you'll see another? You are a trader, right? I'm guessing, since I haven't really seen you before- but I'm still kind of new to Mavros too." Codrath, though still watchful as ever, shifted to one side and settled down, curling the length of his tail round to make it clear just how far the stranger was meant to keep his distance; L'rey gave him a couple pats on the shoulder. He's okay. Calm down and stop trying to intimidate everyone I talk to.

[Zen]

Treyjen

The boy was clearly pleased with the praise, which was hardly surprising. What young man didn’t enjoy having his ego stroked? Particularly, if the stereotypes were to be believed, young bronzeriders. His explanation of the event made sense. That would account for the flaming, Treyjen supposed. He had never given much thought to just how dragonriders might practice for Threadfall, exactly. Riders were often overheard to mention drills, but Treyjen really didn’t know what they entailed. It had never particularly mattered, but he’d never watched it before either.

That the boy felt the need to say that it was their first time and the next time should be better spoke to just how well he thought it must have gone. Treyjen wouldn’t have thought it had gone anything but well if he hadn’t said as much. The finer details of the exercise had been beyond his eye to see from the distance. “It didn’t go quite as well as you'd like, I take it?” The bronze shifted into what Treyjen could only view as some sort of protective pose, and though danger was more likely to excite the pirate than deter him, testing the limits of a dragon’s patience was where he drew a line.

He did not attempt to draw any closer to the two as the boy continued, a brow raising at his guess as to his profession. “Clever lad. Or is it just that obvious?” Treyjen mused before giving a more definitive answer, “Aye, indeed I am a trader. Perhaps I shall have to spend more time on the beach while I’m here to see your next practice. I do plan to stay here at Mavros for a couple more sevendays.” His gaze shifted to the bronze briefly, considering how the boy had said he was rather new to Mavros as well. He knew little about the growth of dragons, but the bronze’s size clearly meant he wasn’t just out of the shell, despite being smaller than the adult bronzes he had seen. And if he had been flying up there with the white dragon then it stood to reason they were from the same clutch.

“Ah, you must be one of the lucky ones that got to travel through time. That must have been some sort of experience,” his blue gaze returned to the boy, some amusement at the thought, “Have your parents seen how much you’ve grown since you left them? If not they’re in for quite a shock I imagine.”

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L'rey shrugged at the question. "I think it went well enough. Codrath did great, he only got hit once." He beamed up at the bronze, who grumbled with a brief whirl of red through his eyes.

I was not hit. Someone threw one at me. It was their fault, he growled, one eye craning to look at the splatter of white on his chest. L'rey reached to try to clear the powder, but only a few grains brushed away, and he promised the bronze a wash later to get it off. Codrath dipped his head in a nod and then went back to his watchfulness of the stranger.

"But we can only get better. Always." He directed the comment at Codrath too, ignoring the huff that followed and the expressive toss of his head that spoke clearly enough what he thought of that, and L'rey grinned, offering another pat to the muscled shoulder. "It was a guess," he replied, still pleased that he'd been right. "We get a lot of traders, so I just figured, you know. If you want to watch another practice, I think maybe I could let you know when- if it's when you're still here."

He gave a nod at the question of his going between times, and then shrugged. "It was kind of weird, I guess, but not bad. Like, not as many people as now, and the meals were kind of bland because supplies were limited but I guess it could have been worse. And if I hadn't gone, I wouldn't have Impressed, and that's been great."

What would his aunt and uncle say? He'd been too excited to hold back anything, from the news about the trip to his Impression, but he hadn't gotten word back yet, and he hoped that he might be able to take a day soon to actually go see them with Codrath. "My aunt and uncle raised me. I haven't seen them yet, but I wrote the morning after we got back. I told them all of it. I bet they'll be surprised to see me; it's only been a couple weeks since I left Tillek." A grin crossed his face at the thought. "Codrath must be old enough- maybe I can talk D'rew into letting me go."

[Zen]

Treyjen

The bronze, Codrath as his rider named him, seemed less than pleased about this singular hit he had attained, or at least that’s what his grumbling led Treyjen to believe. He was hardly an expert on dragon behavior, but that seemed a safe bet. “Hm,” he considered the offer to be notified of future practices briefly. It was hard to say where he might be at any given time while ashore, though, if the young bronzerider was to go looking for him, “I appreciate the offer, but I tend to be out and about quite a bit. I wouldn’t want to send you on a wild wherry chase after me. But if by chance you happen to catch me on my ship, perhaps.”

His explanation of the trip back in time was somewhat anticlimactic. The way he put it, it sounded rather boring actually, save for his Impression. He supposed for those that went back, isolated on Mavros, it wouldn’t have seemed like too much of a big deal to be there. A’zael’s warnings of the dangers had him mentally scoffing as his curiosity had him considering once more all the possibilities the ability could open up, and lamenting the fact that he would never have the chance to test it himself.

The mention of where the young rider came from threw him from his musings rather abruptly. Tillek. And he was raised by his aunt and uncle? Those nagging feelings of guilt that he had done so well to drown began to resurface and his hand twitched with the urge to reach for his aleskin until he clenched it briefly into a fist to stop himself. His easy expression may have faltered for a moment, before he carefully restored it. He wasn’t sure he wanted to continue this conversation, but this was a bronzerider, a possible future leader of Mavros, and if he left so suddenly now it might be viewed as rude, certainly not an impression he was trying to make and not what he wanted the young man to remember about him.

“Ah… Tillek,” it had been so long since he’d been to Tillek, with no plans of returning, but he pushed past the memories and the feelings the place brought with it, continuing the conversation as though nothing was amiss, “Were you from a fishing family then?” If so he didn’t blame the lad for leaving, but he wouldn’t say so for risk of offending him. If he was from a fisher family he might just as well be proud of the heritage. And it occurred to him then that he had not yet introduced himself, though neither had the young rider. The only name that had been given thus far was the dragon’s, “Forgive me, I seem to have forgotten my manners. Here I am nosing into your past and I haven’t even introduced myself properly. Captain Treyjen, of the Storm’s Eye. I don’t believe I’ve caught your name either.”

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L'rey nodded, accepting that of course the trader would be busy. It might be easier if he could borrow a firelizard to let him know? Plenty of people had one, if they wouldn't mind letting him use them for a quick errand- Codrath being unwilling to talk to any other human. "I'll let you know, then. If I can. You probably wouldn't miss it even if I didn't."

He glanced past the man, toward the ships he could see anchored at the Docks; maybe later he'd wander down there for a closer look. It couldn't hurt, so long as he didn't get in anyone's way, or so he hoped. As the man continued, naming the hold of his birth, L'rey gave another nod. "Yeah, I was. And I was just starting to learn the ropes, you know- apprenticing under my uncles and grandfather, alongside cousins." A smile at the memory before turning back to gaze at Codrath. "And then I got Searched, and I guess I won't be going back now, except to visit."

The comment that neither of them had introduced themselves drew a blink from L'rey and then a short grin, half-embarrassed at the slip in conduct. "Oh, yeah," he replied, and then fell silent again because the trader was giving his name and that of his ship, and then all thoughts of returning the favor were lost in the sheer blankness that enveloped the young rider. Captain Treyjen, of the Storm’s Eye.

His father.

Joy wasn't the first thing that L'rey felt when the shock wore off. He'd spent too many Turns listening to Treylok and Jeylokar complaining about the loss of their best ship to be at a loss to know how they felt about it, even though Reyloran had never seemed to share their opinion. Or at least not where L'rey could hear it- he'd always seemed neutral in regards to Treyjen's theft of the ship and the kidnap of his sister, Nalyra, L'rey's aunt, preventing in the marriage Treylok had arranged. He still remembered the night it had happened, though it had faded with the passing Turns: his grandfather and uncle returning near dusk, both furious at their failure, cursing Treyjen loudly and often while Gildrey had stood with his eye to the door, trying to understand why they were angry at his father this time.

Hurt was a sharp flash that bolted through him, as he realized that the odd sense of recognition was because of the likeness of Treyjen's face to Reyloran's and Treylok's- and yet the man hadn't seemed to recognize him. Or he was purposefully not letting on that he did.

Codrath dipped his head closer to L'rey, who turned half toward the dragon and away from Treyjen. He couldn't remember. Why would he ask his name, otherwise? Had he really been gone all this time without ever really caring what had happened to him? A low growl rumbled in the big male's throat as his eyes whirled red, his tail curling closer to L'rey, one wing briefly dropping down to block his rider from the stranger's view.

L'rey took the confused anger and let it fill him, pushing away everything else. He was a rider. A bronzerider. And he couldn't afford to whine and cry over what his father chose to do. The momentary hurt was buried as he straightened, scrubbed at both cheeks to make sure it was dry, and told Codrath to move his wing aside. His face was still red and he trembled, but his voice was as steady as he could make it as he replied, one hand solid against Codrath's leg. "My rider name is L'rey. But my birth name was Gildrey. If you hadn't been away for almost all my life, you'd know that. So why don't you?"

[Zen]

Treyjen

A fishing family indeed, and he didn’t seem to hold any disdain for it either, so it was a good thing Treyjen hadn’t shared his own opinion about that path in life. A strange expression passed over the boy’s face at his introduction and Treyjen’s brow rose slightly as he watched the change in facial features. Well, he was from Tillek… for all Treyjen knew there might be tales of him still passed around there, perhaps he had heard of him or something. But the dragon’s reaction, covering the boy with a wing protectively, seemed to suggest something more than that. Treyjen hesitated, unsure just what was happening or if that was his cue to leave. Had the dragon decided this was the end of their conversation?

When the wing finally moved away again, it was clear the boy was more than a little upset, and when he finally introduced himself it was like a punch to the gut, the accusing tone causing a painful wrench in his chest. For a long moment it was like his lungs forgot how to work and all Treyjen could do was stare at the boy, his son, in disbelief. Gildrey. He took a half step back before he could stop himself, as the only thing he really feared in life stood before him, providing a stark truth he ran from every chance he got. That he was perhaps a bigger failure as a father than his own had been.

All his careful composure was gone and he did not even have the ability to claw back any semblance of it, “I… I didn’t….” He hadn’t even recognized him. He hadn’t had any idea. He’d been standing here talking to his son as if he was a perfect stranger, just another bronzerider to cultivate a friendship with, to use to his advantage. Looking, really looking at him now, he could begin to see it. Especially in the eyes. His little boy’s eyes. His eyes. “Gildrey,” he all but choked on the name, a name he had refused to speak in turns for all the pain and guilt it brought him, “I never meant… I never….” He’d never fumbled for words like this before, not once in his life. He always knew what to say. But not now.

“I never meant to leave you,” he finally managed to get out, “I wanted….” It didn’t really matter what he had wanted, how impatient he had once been to take his son sailing with him, to teach him his trade, to share the stars with him so he would never be lost, and how to read the winds so nothing would ever be able to stop him from reaching any destination he chose, to revel in the freedom of the vast sea with him. “I wasn’t thinking clearly when I left. I just needed to get Nalyra away….” It seemed like such a pitiful explanation now that he was offering it up outside of his mind. How could he make him understand? Could he? Should he? Didn’t he deserve his son’s anger? He had promised to be there for him, and he’d broken that promise. There was nothing he could do to change that, and to be honest he wasn’t sure he would even do anything differently if he had the chance.

“I… I knew you were safe, that Rey would… he would take care of you…,” from the fondness with which he had previously spoken of his family, Treyjen could only imagine his brother had kept his word, that he had raised Gildrey like one of his own. “I couldn’t take you with me… everything was so uncertain, I… I couldn’t bring you into that.” Where had all his eloquence gone? He felt like he barely knew how to speak, it was so difficult to find the right words, or even half decent words. He couldn’t move from his spot in the sand, couldn’t tear his gaze away from the son he had abandoned, even as much as he wanted to stop seeing those accusing eyes looking back at him.

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L'rey stood, staring back at his father with a rigid expression, taking in the range of emotions and the stammering as Treyjen tried to find the words to form a reply. He looked- surprisingly vulnerable, a far cry from the easy and calm assurance of just a few minutes ago. L'rey blinked, a strange mix of guilt and satisfaction at seeing the rush of emotion across the man's face. His father's face. And part of him couldn't help but wonder how Reyloran would react if he knew how L'rey was acting. He knew how Treylok and Jeylokar would, all too well, but neither of them had been the one to raise L'rey for Turns. Even before Treyjen had left for good.

He glanced away, briefly glancing into Codrath's whirling red eye, and then down at his feet. "He did. They did. I was... I was happy. They did their best- but I missed you." His breath caught, the flood of confusion and lack of comprehension cutting off his voice for a moment before he swallowed that knot down. "Uncle Reyloran told me why. I asked and he explained it to me, a few Turns before I was Searched. That you were trying to help Aunt Nalyra- because she was supposed to get married and she didn't want to."

And the constant reassurances that it hadn't been anything Gildrey had or hadn't done that had resulted in Treyjen running without his son. Besides, he'd asked, did Gildrey really want to go? It would have meant adjusting to an entirely different way of life, leaving most of his family behind and never coming back. In the heat of the moment, he'd replied that it didn't sound so bad, but thinking back now? How was he supposed to really know? He might have had a great time with his father and aunt, growing up on the ship- even if he knew that if they'd ever gotten caught that it wouldn't have ended well for Treyjen- but on the other hand? He already had great memories from the Turns growing up among his cousins, safe with a certain place to rest his head at the end of each day, with only more fun to look forward to the following sunrise.

With a rough shrug of his shoulders he glanced back at Treyjen. "Whatever. You can't do anything about it now. You made your choice. Why are you here now, in Mavros? Are you really trading?" The Storm's Eye: Treylok's ship. L'rey's gaze slipped past again to the ships. He ought to tell his grandfather, shouldn't he? Hardly a month passed without Treylok grumbling under his breath about the loss of his fastest ship and his no-good thief of a son; L'rey knew somewhat what it had cost him. Letting him know would be the right thing to do, right?

"Where have you been all this time?" he asked, patting the large nose creeping closer toward his face, his hair stirred by the heavy puffs of air from the bronze before gently pushing him back to arm's length at the stink of Codrath's breath.

[Zen]

Treyjen

Treyjen was glad to hear that his son had been happy with his brother’s family. Rey was… he was the best of his siblings, really. Their father had been unable to corrupt him into someone that looked at people first as tools to be used. The same could not be said for Treylok’s other three children. He couldn’t have left his son in better hands. But the fact still remained, he had left his son.

“But I missed you.”

There was something bittersweet about that admission. He couldn’t help but wonder how much Gildrey really remembered of him. The boy clearly hadn’t recognized him anymore than Treyjen had recognized him, but for different reasons. He didn’t think he’d changed much in the turns he’d been gone, Gildrey, however… the boy was nearly a man. And he wasn’t even Gildrey anymore. L’rey. It didn’t seem right. And then he remembered their previous conversation. His son had gone back in time and returned aged in the span of a day. Well, that wasn’t going to be confusing to keep track of. How old was he now? He shouldn’t be much more than ten turns at this point, should he? Shells, all the things he had missed….

Rey had told him why he’d left, but after L’rey had asked…. There was a pain in his chest at the idea that his son had ever thought it had been anything he had done, but he was sure his brother would have made it clear… it wasn’t him. L’rey. He considered the boy’s new name again, and how it seemed far more like his brother’s now than his. If that wasn’t fitting. A strained sort of silence had stretched out between them as Treyjen found himself again at a loss for words, or actions. He had never imagined he would see his son again and it was perhaps the one thing he was not at all prepared for in life.

It was L’rey that spoke first, dismissing the past with a careless shrug. Treyjen didn’t really think it was that easy, but the questions he asked were so much simpler and less emotionally taxing to deal with. “I… aye. Trading,” he began slowly, still feeling as though he stood on unstable ground that might collapse beneath his boots at any given moment. “We… trade often with Mavros. It’s become something of a home, for the crew…. A safehaven for those that… have no other place on Pern.” His son was old enough, he would understand quite well that stealing a ship meant they couldn’t very well just dock where they pleased and be welcome. “We trade where we can, but… Mavros is our home harbor now.”

His gaze shifted to the bronze dragon again. His son’s dragon. His son was a dragonrider, and a bronzerider at that. He wondered briefly if Yva had known he was here. Surely she would have been more forthcoming with that information? She hadn’t been in Tillek when she’d be Searched… likely she’d had no idea her cousin had been as well. “It seems Rey raised you well, if a bronze found you worthy,” he spoke again after a moment, his voice still rough with emotion, but at least he was beginning to form proper sentences again. He didn’t know what exactly he might have expected from a reunion with his son, but finding him as a bronzerider was hardly the first thing that would have come to mind.

There was another painful squeeze in his chest as he realized he had no idea who L’rey really was. He’d been so young when he’d stolen the Storm’s Eye. Three turns, four. A vague, drunk-fuzzy memory of looking at the stars with the boy came to him, and he’d been so small he’d been able to tuck him up inside his coat to keep him warm on the chilly night. Had he ever learned his stars? Had Rey taught him? His hand brushed over the aleskin at his hip once more, compulsively, and he wanted nothing more than to return to his quarters and drink. What sort of coward was he, that he wanted to run away from his own son? But he’d been doing it for so long, chasing away the slightest memory of him.

“I… how do you want this to work, Gil- L’rey…? You’re here, and I… I’ll be here, rather often. Do you… do you want me in your life, after… after everything?” It was a difficult question to ask, but what more could he do than try to honor whatever the boy wanted for his future? He had such conflicting feelings about it himself, between the guilt of the past and the hope that they could rekindle anything of a relationship between them going forward, “I would like the chance to… to be something to you. To learn what sort of man you’re becoming. I know I… shouldn’t have to learn, but…. But if that isn’t what you want, I’ll respect that. You… you don’t owe me anything.” Not forgiveness, not a second chance, not a future. But that didn’t stop him from hoping.

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It might have been too much of an admission, but it was too late to take back now. Besides, it had been nearly ten Turns, and L’rey’s young age had meant that he really had only one or two memories to think back on of his father- more than anything, it had been the relationship he missed. Had hated, over the years, having that thrown in his face by cousins who he had upset, that his father had left him and wouldn’t be back. In vague, fuzzy shreds of memory from his third Turn, he recalled the night he’d sat out with Treyjen, looking up at the star-filled sky with the man’s protective arms around him and his voice like a far-away whisper he couldn’t make out.

He wasn’t going to let on he knew any of that. He only remembered it now and then- the old memory dragged up now given the unexpected meeting. Treyjen didn’t need to know he remembered; he’d let too much spill already. Instead, L’rey listened as Treyjen answered his question about his reason for coming to Mavros, and the reply made him wince a bit, wondering if he had added that in in hopes of garnering sympathy- if the older man had been thinking along the same lines of their kin: Treyjen’s father, L’rey’s grandfather, and his reaction to being told where his ship could be found.

The next statement made L’rey glance at him again, his eyes darkening, but the retort that sprang to mind he choked off. 'At least someone did' didn’t make it past his lips, and he huffed a sigh, hating the heat of anger and the cold grip of grief for what he’d missed- for what he could have had, if things had turned out differently. “Uncle Rey treated me just like one of his own. He gave me his blessing when I was Searched, and I wanted to make him proud when we saw each other again. I thought Impressing a bronze would do that. And Codrath chose me just as I’d wanted.” He looked toward the bronze again, one large eye staring back at him and the huge nose ever so carefully pushing forward to nuzzle his shoulder as he turned to face Treyjen.

The question truly was one he had to think about, and he couldn’t answer right away. The first thing he felt was longing, a desperate want to agree… would he be betraying Reyloran and Weyliva if he asked for this? They were the closest thing he’d had to parents for Turns- would him turning to Treyjen make them think they hadn’t done good enough? Would they think they’d let him down- or would they understand? Of course, this was even if he could write to them about it. Treyjen was wanted in Tillek. If Treylok got wind of this, or Jeylokar… there was too much. Too much to think about, too much to take into consideration. This shouldn’t be so complicated, and he didn’t know what was the right thing to do.

“I don’t know.” The three words came slowly, but he looked up at Treyjen as he spoke, giving his father that much as he continued. “You left. I know why you did it, and you didn’t just abandon me- I had family who cared for me- but still… you left. And it’s been so long, and well, everything’s changed. You’re a- a trader. And I’m a rider. I think I need time.” He dropped his eyes again, torn with uncertainty between wanting to get to know Treyjen again and upset by that fact that having to get to know each other was even necessary. He hadn’t had a choice before, and now that he did he was making the decision to maintain the distance between them. “Maybe we can work things out- but not now.”

[Zen]

Treyjen

He’d wanted to make Rey proud. A flash of jealousy coursed through him at those words, and guilt soon followed. Why shouldn’t he want to make Rey proud? Rey who had raised him and loved him like his own son? It wasn’t as if he deserved such aspirations from his son, the boy had likely never thought he’d see him again, anymore than Treyjen had thought this reunion would happen. Why would he want to make a father who abandoned him, who he could clearly hardly remember, proud? Moreover why should Treyjen even want him to? It hardly mattered what he thought, even if he had been part of the boy’s life. L’rey was free to do as he pleased with his own life whether he approved or not. It was a strange, contradictory feeling, but it was something he had robbed himself of when he left, the chance to share in his son’s hopes and dreams and perhaps even help him pursue them and make them a reality. That in itself would be enough to make him proud, really. As long as L’rey was doing what he wanted with his life, following his own path and not one someone else set out for him or forced him into, that would be enough.

“I’m sure he will be… would be, even if you had Impressed yourself a green,” he mused softly. Unlike Treylok, unlike Jeylokar, Rey had never set particularly high expectations of those around him. He was far more concerned about everyone getting along, being decent people, than achieving anything particularly great. And the thought of his father and eldest brother, finding out about L’rey’s Impression to a bronze, how they might try to use that connection, had him suddenly on edge. They couldn’t come to Mavros. They would ruin everything.

L’rey’s answer to his question stopped that line of thought for now, the uncertainty clear in the boy’s tone. It was an understandable answer, but even so Treyjen felt a pit of disappointment open up inside him for it. He didn’t blame his son for it, for being unsure, confused about all this. It wasn’t like he wasn’t confused himself, and it had been a naive hope that the boy would suddenly be thrilled at the idea of having him back in his life again, unrealistic, but that hadn’t stopped him from hoping that it might be something he would want anyway. You left. As well as Treyjen knew that, it still felt like a knife to the heart to hear it so bluntly from him. The pain of it passed over his face, he knew it, before he could stop it. He’d never been so out of his depth in a conversation before.

He glanced away, because it wasn’t his intention to make L’rey feel bad for him, to play on any sympathy the boy might have. For once in his life he had no desire to manipulate anything that happened in an interaction with another person. Not now. “I… understand,” he replied, quiet, trying to keep the pain out of his voice. There was a still chance, a chance L’rey could want to make something of a relationship between them in the future. He tried not to hope too hard for it. It was more than he deserved, really. For all the times he had railed against his father’s abandonment of Rey in Tillek, leaving him to be raised by uncles and never looking back, he had done the same damn thing to Gildrey. It was sickening, even more so because he knew if he could go back, he would make the same choices. He would still leave Gildrey behind.

He needed a drink.

“I know I have no right to ask anything of you…,” he began slowly, forcing his gaze back to his son’s, “But, not for me, but my crew… please… don’t tell them. Don’t let your grandfather know we’re here. They’ve made a home of this place. Some of them have families. If they come here we… we may not be able to return.” But L’rey was here, L’rey was a bronzerider, and they might come here anyway. He could not, however, ask his son to cut all ties with his family for the sake of complete strangers. He didn’t believe Rey would give the information over, if he found out that L’rey had found him here, but he couldn’t be entirely sure. He didn’t even know if his own son would agree to keep it a secret from the rest of his family, family that had been far more a part of his life than he had. His conversation with Mia occurred to him again, followed by the thought that he might very well have to abandon Trillia just as he had Gildrey, and that Gildrey would be the very cause of it.

But he couldn’t quite bring himself to tell his son about his little sister. Would he feel jealous, replaced? Would he want to retaliate against him for it? Guilt settled in him again, because he was manipulating by omission now, but he couldn’t risk it. He didn’t know L’rey, had no idea how he might react to the news. Perhaps it would make him sympathetic, perhaps not, but he didn’t want to manipulate sympathy either. “I’ll… I’ll give you your time, then. You know where to find me, should you ever wish to,” he was already backing away, slowly, as he spoke, and having said all that there was to be said for the time being, he turned away and headed back down the beach toward the harbor cavern. As much as he’d wanted to run away from the confrontation previously, walking away from his son now was proving incredibly difficult, and he forced himself not to look back to keep it from getting any harder.

He didn’t think he’d ever needed a drink more in his life.