The One Thing

Writers: Miriah
Date Posted: 29th March 2019

Characters: D'hol, Wylra
Description: Visiting an old friend brings up hidden memories
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 10, day 21 of Turn 9
Notes: Mentioned: Jeyme, K'deren, Cyradis, N'vanik (not by name)

Takes place after " A Good Day for Memories"

D'hol

"Girlath told me that you were coming." The white-haired greenrider
opened the door at the knock and peered at D'hol without surprise.
Wylra studied him for a long moment and stepped back to allow him
entrance. "I know that face. You've been to see Holda, haven't you?"

"You know me well." D'hol stepped into the weyr and immediately went
to the table to sit.

"How is she doing?" Wylra began brewing a pot of water for tea and as
it warmed, sat in her own chair.

"About the same." He rubbed at his eyes tiredly.

She nodded, then continued looking at him, knowing that little could
provide comfort to him. "You look thinner." She leaned back, sensing
his mood held little tolerance for their usual banter. "It's getting
bad, isn't it?"

He looked up at her and nodded. "Yes."

She exhaled, then rose to pour two cups full of steaming tea. She
handed him one, keeping the other for herself. "How soon?" Her voice
was soft, and she didn't bother trying to hide the distress. He too,
knew her just as well.

"Next week." He touched her hand lightly and wasn't surprised when she
immediately gripped his own.

"I was afraid that you'd say it was soon." She swallowed hard and took
a sip of tea. "So, you're saying goodbye to everyone… even me."

"I'd not leave without saying goodbye to you. You know that." D'hol
held her hand, but released it as she went to the cabinet, got out a
small bottle, then liberally dosed her tea with a golden liquid. She
offered some to him, but he shook his head in response, waiting until
she'd settled back in her chair before taking her hand again.

"You're a stubborn jackass." She dashed moisture from her eyes with
gnarled knuckles.

"I know. I'm sorry I won't be here for the birthingdays, Wylra. I
tried to hold out, but I can't. I know it's still hard on you."

That thought brought fresh moisture to the blue eyes and she took a
shuddering breath. "And on you. Don't think I don't know that. I was
hoping I'd get to drink to them with you. That we'd have time at least
for that." She stared down at her cup and her hand tightened on his.
"They'd be nearly thirty-three turns and thirty-one turns."

"I try not to think about it." His words were short, but she knew him
well enough to know it wasn't anger that shortened his tone, it was
long-held grief that he couldn't or wouldn't display.

As he looked away from her towards the small area that made up her
ledge, Wylra remembered him then. First her memories drew up an image
of a young man just into his eighteenth turn with exotic cheekbones
and sultry hooded eyes who still allowed his curls to rest against his
brow. So proud to have won his first mating Flight and reveling in
experimenting with and learning from a more experienced woman, but
also excited to be a father and devoted to her every comfort when she
had announced her pregnancy. Then the same face, months later, ravaged
by grief as he held the lifeless pair of their little boys in his
arms, born too early and too weak to survive the birthing. He had been
tasked with the grim duty that she had been too weak to perform; she
had loved him then, for doing what she could not. They had survived
the grief and though not weyrmated, kept to each other's company and
developed a deep friendship that had been wholly unexpected.

Then close to two turns later, a near perfect pregnancy. Her memories
drew up another image then, him older, more mature, with his hair cut
short and the pressures of rank bearing down on him, erasing the boy
as he became the man he needed to be. Still proud, but gentle as he
cradled a dark-haired newborn girl in his arms. Wyldha, they had
called her, and from the moment of her birth, she had gripped her
father's heart in her tiny little hand. But when Wyldha was found
lifeless in her cradle at only a month old and the Healers could only
say that such things happened for no reason, something in D'hol seemed
to die. They had never shared a bed again outside of a mating flight
and he had refused her offer of weyrmating. Instead, he buried himself
in duty, becoming harder, less prone to reveal his private inner
thoughts; it had taken an effort to maintain their friendship.

She had hoped, when he was transferred North, then told her that he
had finally fallen in love, that he would finally allow himself to
return to who she knew he could be. But he had fallen in love with
someone who couldn't return it completely, then later attempted it
again with someone who was too young to be ready to deal with the
fallout of his pent-up emotions. She knew that man was still somewhere
in him but had only seen it returning when he had so little time left.

"I know." She spoke softly. "But I do." She kept a grip on his hand,
not letting him rise to leave as she suspected he was about to. "And I
know you're scared. You don't have to tell me. I know. "

He looked down, muscles working in his jaw, but he didn't release her
hand. She watched his throat working before he nodded. "I can't hide
from you, can I?"

"No. You can't. You never could. Who else have you told?"

"Ma'din knows. My Weyrleader knows; I had to tell him, at least for my wing."

"Aye, you did the right thing there. Ma'din...I should have known he
was yours from the start. Those cheekbones of yours. I guess I just
stopped paying attention once I retired." She frowned. "What about
that Cyradis of yours, or your Jeyme?"

He gave a soft, almost bitter snort. "They're not mine, Wylra. Cyradis
was never mine and Jeyme, " he exhaled, shaking his head. "No. I don't
know if she'd be grieved or relieved. And she's still grieving a man
she weyrmated that I've been told made her far more happier than I
ever did." His half-smile carried no humor. "As for my children...
Ma'din I didn't even know about until a few turns ago, Kielya she
relies more on K'deren than me and Dheymin...I only saw him maybe a
candlemark a week for three turns. He spent more time with Jeyme's
weyrmate than he has with me. He'll have more memories of him than
me." He pulled his hand from hers, rubbing his face. He couldn't bring
up their long dead children. He'd never got to make many memories with
them and those he had were tinged with pain he didn't like to relive.

"It sounds like you're just giving up." She wanted to be angry at him,
but seeing his face made her bite back the words that threatened to
spill out.

"I think I am." He finally looked up at her, meeting her eyes. "I've
dealt with this gut pain for five months and I thought I could handle
it at first. But now, I'm relying on diluted fellis and willowsalic
tea just to be able to do what I need to. I can't hide it much longer
and it causes Yumath just as much pain and stress. I'm hurting him
just by living. I've hurt enough people around me; I can't do that to
him too. " His face finally revealed the full strain he was under.
"I'm tired, Wylra and I want…I need to die doing the one thing I've
always done well."

She rose to walk around her small table, wrap her arms around his
shoulders, and press his head to her own shoulder; it was an old,
rarely used gesture between them that provided comfort for them both.
Tears rolled down her wrinkled cheeks, both for herself, and the man
in her arms.

Last updated on the April 4th 2019

Welcome to Triad Weyrs!

The One Thing