Mail Call

Writers: Aaron, Theresa
Date Posted: 1st May 2019

Characters: Brennault, E'ron
Description: Brennault delivers a letter, and offers much-welcomed friendship.
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 10, day 28 of Turn 9
Notes: Mentor Approved

Brennault

If Brennault had learned nothing else since coming to the weyr, it was
that not all weyrfolk fit the free-spirited stereotype the holdfolk
held in their minds. And one could begin with the fact that a rider
was receiving mail from the holds when it came to guessing how they
might respond to a little flirting.

Still, the odds were also better in his favor if that rider rode
green, or as did this rider – to a lesser extent – blue. On top of all
that, Brennault was not at all prepared for just how *pretty* E'ron
would be.

This did not put every other consideration out of his mind, but it was
obvious on his face as Brennault approached just how delighted he was
for the chance to say hello.

"I've got it on good authority that you're E'ron, rider of Blue
Feykenth." The runner was dressed in form fitting attire and had
bathed since arriving in from the trail. It was always better to
deliver the mail clean and presentable if flirting was involved. He
pulled a letter from his bag and held it out to the rider.

"You can trust that authority, Runner." E'ron held out his hand with a
friendly smile. "I'm E'ron." At least, he hoped his smile looked
friendly, and not some variety of admiration that may not be welcomed.
He was never sure anymore, especially when confronted with someone as
handsome as this messenger. A mirror was no help. Who can make an
honest expression in a mirror, after all? Even Feykenth's opinion was
no help whatsoever. In fact, he sometimes wondered if dragons could
have their own agendas about certain issues.

}:Yes.:{ Feykenth commented. }:Yes, we can. When it's for your own good.:{

E'ron really hoped his internal grimace hadn't shown externally.

}:So what if it did?:{

**He'll think I don't like him, or he's got something disgusting
hanging out of his nose or stuck in his teeth or something!**

The only reply Feykenth transmitted translated mentally into a human
eye-roll, though dragons couldn't physically perform that particular
maneuver.

**Hmm. Impress and you'll learn something new every day. Whether you
want to or not.**

Brennault handed over the letter and grinned, turning to glance
sideways a bit at the rider for a moment. That smile was difficult to
read, but Brennault was almost certain there was something to it. What
that might be was something only time would tell, he supposed.

"Fair skies, E'ron," he said. "I'm Brennault." He hefted his bag for a
moment to gauge how many letters he had left to deliver and whether he
had time for a quick break. "Are you busy?" he wondered.

The mental shove Feykenth applied almost- almost- made E'ron stagger a
step closer to Brennault. **Stop it, brat!**

He was pretty certain none of that showed on his face, which made it
easier to smile like a normal person instead of a dimglow. " Well
met, Brannault. Actually, I'm not, at least for a while. May I help
you somehow?"

"I like to get to know the folks I work for," said Brennault. He
thought perhaps that this might be a better way to start than simply
offering to buy E'ron a drink. Some excuse to spend time together that
did not look like flirting or dating was usually better for getting
started with holdfolk, and Brennault would have bet his shoes that
E'ron was more holdfolkish than weyrfolkish even yet.

Ah. Brennault had an idea.

**Marvel. What are you doing?** he sent at his firelizard, hoping he would hear.

~~Sleeping,~~ the bronze sent back with annoyance. Brennault would
have shaken his head but for that E'ron would see and not know why.
Marvel had flown a good portion of the way back for himself to avoid
being jostled as Brennault ran, but he had gotten tired of flying and
simply jumped forward between to wait for Brennault before he made it
all the way back. He had had plenty of rest.

**I'll give you a treat if you come here.**

Brennault could practically feel Marvel's metaphorical ears perking
up, and the bronze was suddenly there in the air above them and then
landed on Brennault's shoulder.

"Oh! Well, hello there, handsome," said Brennault to the bronze, who
preened, almost forgetting for a moment that Brennault had promised
him a treat.

**Bit,** he insisted. And so Brennault fished out the promised meat
bit and handed it to Marvel.

"E'ron, this is my firelizard, Marvel. Marvel, this is E'ron."

The bronze peered at E'ron for a moment, cheeped at him, and then went
back to his meat bit.

E'ron chuckled. "Hello to you too, Marvel." He eyed the creature with
a dragonrider's assessment, something that had already become an
unconscious reflex. "He's a handsome lad, indeed, and it's clear
you've cared for him very well."

He pulled his eyes from the firelizard back to its owner. "You hardly
work for *me,* but I'd like to get to know you, too."

A warm wash of approval from Feykenth flowed over his mind and down
his body, but thankfully, the blue kept any 'helpful' comments to
himself this time.

E'ron nodded his chin at the firelizard. "How long have you had the little lad?"

Perfect! Brennault's instinct had paid off. He was not sure whether
Marvel cared for being used as a conversation starter, but it seemed
to Brennault that as long as he got his treat and got to snuggle on
Brennault's shoulder, Marvel was happy to go with the flow.

"It's only been a few weeks now," said Brennault. "So I suppose he may
still have a bit more to grow yet. But he's a very clever boy. He's
saved my bacon a few times now getting ahold of riders who are up in
their weyrs by the time I'm ready to do rounds and deliveries." That
had been Brennault's first purpose in seeking a firelizard.

"How long have you and Feykenth been together? I love dragons," he
said. "At least, all the ones I've met so far have been fantastic."

"They all are, but obviously, Feykenth's the best." E'ron's grin was
wide and obviously playful. He did think Feykenth was the best ever
shelled, of any color, but so did every other Rider about their own
lifemate. "We've been together four Turns now. I can hardly remember
what life was like before him."

}:See? I told you a short memory can be a very good trait to develop.:{

E'ron ignored that comment from the spectator's gallery. "You've
gotten Marvel very well-trained, for him to be so young. I can only
imagine how much time he saves you in delivering to riders up in the
nosebleed weyrs." He shook his head. "Ash! Forgive me for being rude.
Want to get out of the sun and have something cool to drink?"

"That sounds perfect; I'm parched," said Brennault, very pleased,
indeed. This was going perfectly. Of course, he knew by now that any
rider loved to talk about his dragon, but it was no exaggeration to
say that Brennault loved them.

"Training has been *almost* a breeze," said Brennault, "except he has
helped himself more than once so far – or tried to – to someone else's
lunch. He seems to be willing to do just about anything for a little
bit of dried meat or two, and food of any kind is his favorite. And as
long as I show him in my head what I mean, he picks up on what I want
pretty quickly. If I just use words, he's lost, but if I can imagine
it, he gets me."

"Maybe after we've sat down and finished our drinks, I can meet
Feykenth?" he asked, clearly excited about the prospect.

**Well?**

}:You hardly have to ask, as this is what I keep pushing you do to. Of
course I'm willing.:{

"I wish we could just visualize back and forth like draconics. It'd
avoid a lot of misunderstandings." He chuckled. " Feykenth says he's
looking forward to meeting you, too. And trust me, you're highly
favored that his magnificent blueness is deigning to let you get some
fluid and shade for a while first."

E'ron lifted his eyebrows. "In fact, I'm free for a while, so if you'd
like a lift to your next delivery, say the word." He waved a hand in
the general direction of where-ever. "It's all three coughs away."

"I really appreciate it, but after I finish up here today, I'll be
waiting for tomorrow before I head back out to the waystation,"
Brennault explained. "Most days are just here for a day, there for a
day, or here for a little while, there for a day. I only take longer
routes every now and again. And the really, really long trips are only
if I feel like shaking things up. I ran out to Emerald Falls once just
after my dad decided I was old enough, and I have not wanted to try to
go so far ever since." He laughed to think of it. Six months or more
away from home and on the road was, perhaps, a once in a lifetime sort
of experience for him.

A long, appreciative whistle met that last. "Can't say as I blame you!
Ash, my legs ache just thinking about it!" E'ron shook his head as
they walked on towards the dining cavern. "I'm a fair-to-middlin'
runner, but it would never even come into my head to take on an epic
foot-trip like that one. Can't fault you for not wanting to do it
twice!"

A moving shadow, a massive one, passed over their heads from behind.
Feykenth made a wide, low, wheeling turn and landed facing the pair.
He settled onto his hinds and flicked his wings neatly closed.

"Well," E'ron chuckled, jerking a thumb towards the large, pale blue
curious dragon. "Looks like he's decided on introductions before
drinks, but at least we'll be in the shade!"

"I think that's agreeable enough," Brennault laughed as he approached
the blue, making a slight bow. Parched or not, Brennault would never
pass up the opportunity. And he may have been slightly exaggerating
the severity of his thirst.

"May I give you head scratchies, Feykenth?" he asked. No dragon had
ever turned him down yet, but it was always best to ask first. Marvel
cheeped at the dragon as well.

Feykenth cocked his head to bring the firelizard into view, responding
to Marvel's cheep with a low, almost subsonic call somewhere between a
croon and warble. He then lowered himself onto his forelegs and
stretched his head out, head turned towards Brannault to present the
choicest spots for scratchies.

"He says to tell you 'Yes, please, and thank you,'" E'ron passed
along, moving to lean casually against Feyketh's neck. The dragon
spread his wings slightly, throwing them all into welcome shade.

Brennault happily set about to scratching Feykenth's ridges and knobs,
having learned fairly well over his time there so far how most dragons
liked the attention. Marvel jumped from Brennault's shoulder to climb
up onto Feykenth's back and curled up there in the sun.

"You're very welcome!" he said cheerfully.

"He'll let you keep that up for at least a sevenday, so stop when you
feel like it," E'ron commented. For himself, he stroked the soft blue
hide out of unconscious habit. **Now, don't be greedy. He said he's
parched.**

}:Oh!:{ Feykenth blew a gentle breath over Brennault, then slowly and
carefully lifted his head away from his hands. }:Tell him to care for
himself now. Make friends with him, though, because he's excellent at
giving scratchies. Almost as good as a rider. That handsome little
bronze must have taught him the knack.:{

"He says to care for yourself now, but fair warning, you've won his
Scratchies Seal of Approval, so he'll expect them from now on!"

As E'ron spoke, Feykenth settled himself back onto his hinds, careful
not to dislodge Marvel, though he didn't withdraw the shade of his
wings.

Brennault smiled warmly. A very considerate dragon, indeed. He was
always surprised at the smell of dragon breath. It was not at all
unpleasant despite what they ate – herdbeasts and firestone.

"It's my favorite way to say hello. To a dragon. Though if you go for
the hair, it can be just as nice for a human," he added, grinning
mischievously.

"I think Marvel is happy to stay where he is. Thank you for the shade,
Feykenth. It was lovely meeting you."

The dragon dipped his head in a courteous bow, then folded his wings
after the pair moved out of his shadow. "Likewise, Runner Brennault,"
E'ron echoed, his voice taking on a deeper and somewhat more solemn
timbre than his usual speaking tone.

"And now I'm parched, too," he added in his own voice and gave
Brennault a wink as he picked up the pace towards the cavern entrance.

~*~

A few moments later, E'ron stretched out his legs beneath the table
and took a sip from one of the tall, sweating glasses of cool juice
before them. "Do you make deliveries here often?"

He set aside the glass and picked up a piece of sliced fruit from the
plate between them. He chewed it, hoping the answer was yes. He missed
having friends who weren't Riders. Somehow, that lack of variety made
a limitless planet feel ever so much smaller, despite he could go
anywhere on it in less time than a good long belch.

"This is my home base now. Perk of being the son of the stationmaster,
I guess. Though truth be told, he made me work harder for it than he
would have anyone else." Brennault smiled. "So I spend more time here
than anywhere else, taking the things from here to there, and then
bringing anything on its way here the last step of the way on my way
back," he explained. He downed half of his glass in one go, but then
he slowed down to enjoy the rest.

As he wiped a bit of pulp from his fingers, E'ron chuckled. "That must
be a Harper law or something, if you work under your Da, you're
expected to do more, better and faster than anyone else, whether
you're beating gold leaf or taking messages or picking bugs off salad
greens." The smile still on his face, he shrugged a shoulder and took
another slice of fruit with careful casualness. "Regardless, I'm glad
you'll be around fairly often. I haven't been able to make many
friends beyond my Wing-mates. It's hard even to keep up with
Clutch-mates, now we're out of the Weyrling barracks."

Much less those who'd been left standing, four Turns ago. Especially
now, what with the realities of being chosen by a blue plain for all
of them to see and pass judgement on.

Brennault was thrilled to hear that E'ron was willing to consider him
a friend, and hearing that he had few to his name, he made it a point
to commit to being a good friend to him. Bringing friendship to the
friendless gave Brennault a kind of joy he suspected could only be
rivaled by something like Impression or having children.

"Well, now that Feykenth knows Marvel, it should be easy enough to get
a hold of me." Brennault never did consider that one friend might try
to do so while be was already in the company of another, but if the
situation arose, he was more than capable of saying, 'maybe another
time soon.'

"One of my other rider friends said you never quite find friends like
your clutchmates, but… Well, I imagine the longer you ride the fewer
of those clutchmates might still be nearby for you to spend time
with." How many died in 'Fall, he wondered? And how many others went
to other weyrs? "So I'm happy to be a friend."

"Right," E'ron nodded, replying to the last first. "Even with the best
of intentions, we tend to get scattered amongst the Wings after we
leave the Weyrling Wing, and during Fall," he shrugged, not wanting to
go the darker route, and assuming that Brennault was as well-aware of
that as he, "Well, when we're not busy saving the planet, literally,
we're so busy with training and drilling and making set after set of
straps, we hardly have time to eat, sleep and wash the stink off.
Doesn't leave much time or energy for socializing."

He took a swallow of juice and hurried to add, "Not that I'm
complaining, just saying. And the offer still stands, anywhere you
want or need to know, if Fey and I have a minute to take you, we will
and be glad of it. Especially as friends."

At that, E'ron stopped and felt a flush crawl up from under his shirt
collar. He could probably sound more pathetic and lonely and
desperate, but he'd have to work hard to accomplish it. Freykenth
should be enough. He *was* enough.

}:No, I am not. I am very near enough, but there is that crucial lack.
I am not human. You need closeness with other humans. There is no
shame in that, nor do I resent or demean that need in the slightest.:{

**Still doesn't help me feeling like a complete pathetic puppy.**

Freykenth snorted, amusement washing over their link. }:I have no
remedy for that, Mine.:{

"I'll take you up on it," Brennault promised. And it was more for
E'ron's sake than for his own that he did. It sounded very much that
E'ron was in great need of that friend Brennault said he would be.
Perhaps they could just go flying somewhere. But then, it would
probably be better for E'ron if Brennault did ask for a ride to one of
his running destinations. One of the long routes he mentioned before,
maybe. He would figure out a way to make it work.

"Do you play cards? Stones?" he asked, searching for a way to give
E'ron longer to socialize if he wanted it.

"Either. Both." E'ron's grin likely lost every jot of its woebegone
weakness. "Any chance I get. What's your preference?"

The truth of it was, his skill at both games was a large part of why
he had at least two marks to rub together most of the time. He may not
be confident about much besides his competence as a Rider and as
Freykenth's lifemate, but he knew he was flamin' good at both cards
and stones.

"I'm happy either way! I usually play with what we keep in the common
room back at the station, but if you've either in your weyr… or if
they keep them here in common, too, we could play whichever strikes
your fancy."

"I've got a set of stones in my weyr," E'ron nodded. "Cards and bones
too." His grin took on a slightly avaricious edge. "Though bones
aren't much fun unless you're wagering, and I'm too skinned for that
right now. We can play stones whenever you'd like, or a few rounds of
cards just for bragging rights."

Brennault grinned to himself. There were other things to wager besides
marks. But he had a feeling E'ron was not quite ready to play for
strips with a newly minted friend.

"That sounds like fun to me," he said. "Now or any time."

After sparing a brief few moments to consider the state of his weyr--
not too bad, because he couldn't bear the small space if he let it get
too cluttered or disgusting-- E'ron grinned at his friend. "Now's
great for me, if you don't have to be anywhere for a candlemark or
two?"

"I can spare the time," said Brennault, smiling back. This could turn
out quite well, no matter how it turned out!

Last updated on the May 3rd 2019

Welcome to Triad Weyrs!

Mail Call