A Gift in Gratitude

Writers: Aaron, Estelle
Date Posted: 10th September 2019

Characters: Lorican, Brennault
Description: Brennault receives an unexpected gift from Lorican
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 11, day 10 of Turn 9
Notes: Mentioned: Urlene (not by name)

Brennault

***

Lorican stood at the edge of the beach, where sand gave way to dust and
stone, and breathed deeply but cautiously, letting the fresh clean air
fill his lungs. He closed his eyes, listening to the gentle rushing
sound of the waves breaking on the shore. This was the first time he'd
felt strong enough to walk so far. Though he was frustrated at being
tired after so short a distance - when he was used to walking all day on
his travels - he also felt refreshed. Even his burns seemed to itch less
than usual.

He kicked off his sandals, picked them up and began to walk slowly down
towards the water's edge.

A bronze firelizard alighted on the wet sand and cheeped up at Lorican.
He tilted his head curiously and then got a running start and vaulted
back up into the air, soaring higher once his wings caught the sea breeze.

A few moments later, Brennault came over the crest of a dune higher up
the beach and then down toward the water, all but running to meet Lorican.

"Fancy seeing you here!" he said cheerfully. "I was just thinking about
running back up to see you again. Are you back, then?"

"Brennault!" The smith turned to greet him, his eyes brightening. "It's
good to see you. I wondered if that was Marvel I saw, just now." The
moment's envy he felt at seeing how easily the young man ran down to the
shore, when his sore back made even walking a trial, was lost in the
pleasure of seeing his friend again.

"Looks like I'm here for the time being," he explained. "There was...an
incident at the smithy, back at Rocky Bay. It burned down."

Brennault's eyes nearly bugged out of his head, and the sudden feeling
of surprise and shock coming from him led Marvel to cheep with surprise
of his own. Brennault instinctively pulled Lorican into a hug, though he
was careful not to squeeze too hard.

"By the Egg," he said. "I'm glad you're OK! My goodness, what happened?"

"There was an intruder in the smithy. I found him there by accident...he
attacked me and set fire to the place." Lorican felt slightly
uncomfortable that he hadn't told Brennault, of all people, the whole
truth, but it couldn't be helped. He didn't want to put the young man
who'd saved his life in danger, too. "So I got sent back here to be
treated by the healers, again. Only this time, I don't suppose I'll be
returning to Rocky Bay."

Brennault's hand went to his mouth, and his eyes went wide.
"Crackdust..." he whispered. "You can't catch a break, can you? Oh, my
stars, I... I'm so, so glad you're OK!" he could not help but repeat.

"Color me selfish, but I'm glad you're not going back! That place is
trying to kill you."

"Yes. Well, hopefully I've used up all my bad luck for the Turn,"
Lorican said, smiling. "I told you we smiths were difficult to kill. And
the good part is I get to stay at the Weyr again, at least until I get
another posting, and I can work in the smithy here once my health
improves. Which reminds me..." His eyes brightened as a thought struck
him. "Have you got time to come back to my room? I've got something to
show you."

Ah, words Brennault never tired of hearing. Of course, he knew already
that Lorican was not interested in him that way. But it did not stop him
from grinning at the unintended double entendre. And at the gleam in
Lorican's eyes.

"I've got all the time in the world.

"Good. I hope you'll like it," Lorican replied cheerfully, oblivious to
the extra meaning behind the runner's grin. They walked back up the
beach together, the smith still moving a little more slowly than usual.
"I'm staying in guest quarters again, near the other crafters. But tell
me what you've been doing since I saw you last! Have you been running
the route in to the Weyr, or gone further afield?"

Brennault kept pace with Lorican without pushing him. It was slow, but
it did not bother him to spend the extra time with the smith.

"I haven't been out that far since the last time I came to see you,"
said Brennault. "Being near the Weyr is enough to spoil a guy for being
on the road." He chuckled. "Maybe I'll take a longer route soon. Or
maybe not."

"Well, I hope you can stay a few days. It'll be good to catch up,"
Lorican said. "And I heard there are eggs on the Sands! Perhaps you'll
be here for the Hatching. With a bit of luck I'll get to stay long
enough to see it too. I've never seen one before." He glanced at
Brennault, remembering their conversation at the sea hold. "You're not
planning to stand yourself this time?"

"Oh, I'm planning to be there," Brennault laughed. "But just to watch.
I've got my little bronze, and that's all I need, but I definitely want
to see. If you're here, I'll make sure to get you a good seat." He smiled.

"So. Is there any good news from between the last time I saw you and now?"

"Only that I get to be here much sooner than I thought," Lorican said as
he made his slow way back into the Weyrbowl and across to the cavern
entrance. He glanced at the runner, amused. "A fair bit of the gossip at
Rocky Bay was about you, actually. Some of the hold girls were quite
smitten, and speculating about when you'd run back that way."

Brennault grinned mischievously. Ah, so the girls had enjoyed themselves
enough to ask after him. That certainly stroked his ego.

"Well, if they miss me that much, maybe I'll have to visit again after
all. As long as you don't think I'll unfortunately catch fire..."

"I doubt it. They're likely taking precautions against any more fires.
But you might get unfortunately caught by a wife if you're not careful,"
the smith teased. "Some of our sea holder girls can be very determined."

"Oh, don't worry," said Brennault. "So can I." He laughed and shook his
head. "Crackdust. If I didn't know any better, I'd think someone was out
to get you." He patted Lorican's shoulder gently.

Lorican hesitated for a fraction of a second before managing a nervous
laugh. "I've thought that, too. But I can't see why. No-one would gain
from it, and I can't recall offending anyone that deeply, unless my
manners are worse than I thought." To his relief, they were approaching
the crafters' quarters, and he pointed out the room. "Here we are."

Once inside, Lorican crouched down and pulled out his tool bag from
under the bed. Fortunately, he'd been keeping it and some of his
finished pieces in his rooms back at the sea hold, rather than the
smithy, so he hadn't lost everything in the fire. He retrieved a long,
slim item wrapped in cloth.

"Here." He smiled, half-embarrassed, and unwrapped it to reveal a belt
knife, the hilt decorated with a tiny, stylised representation of a
firelizard. "I made it for you. In gratitude, for saving my life."

Before Brennault could add more than a chuckle to assure Lorican that he
had only been joking and not to worry that someone really was out to get
him, he was absolutely stunned by the knife Lorican produced.

"Whoa!" he said breathlessly, taking the knife, feeling its balance,
examining the beautiful metalwork decoration.

Marvel chirped approvingly as he peered down at the gift from his perch
on Brennault's shoulder. He was not quite clever enough to understand
that the design was, perhaps, him, but he could feel Brennault's
happiness over it, and therefore, he liked it.

"It's amazing. Thank you so much! But I hope you know this doesn't get
you off the hook from being my friend." He winked. Then he could not
help but repeat, "wow... so good."

"I made it as light as I could, so it won't weigh you down when you're
running. But it's strong and holds a good edge," Lorican said, quietly
proud of his work, and relieved that Brennault liked it. "I hope it'll
be something to remember our friendship by, wherever I end up being sent
next."

At that last, Brennault cocked his head curiously. Worriedly, even. That
sounded an awful lot like a goodbye.

"I couldn't forget you," he said. "Are you leaving?" Brennault was no
craftsman, but he could get something made. If he had enough time.

"Not yet," Lorican reassured him quickly. "It'll be some time before I'm
well enough to travel. But after that... I can't go back to my old post
at Rocky Bay, so the Smith Hall will find a new place for me. I don't
know where that'll be. With luck it won't be far from here, but it could
be back at the Hall, or anywhere in the South." If so, he realised, he
might not see Dolphin Cove again for a long time.

"I don't want you to have to go," said Brennault, but it was with a sad
tone, not a possessive one. "We'll have to make the best of the time,
then, while you get better. Again. And hopefully you won't need to
convalesce again, but if you do, well. You know where to come." He smiled.

"And maybe if you end up on the other side of the world, I'll have to
talk one of my rider friends into coming to see you once in a while."

"I'd like that! Perhaps you'll see the Smith Hall, one day..." Lorican
thought about that, realising that Brennault would have to be very
careful about the way he behaved there. It was a long way from being as
free and open a place as the Weyr. Suddenly the idea of being posted
back there, or to another hold, seemed stifling. The customs of the Weyr
still embarrassed him more often than not, but he'd come to appreciate
them nonetheless. "But wherever I end up, you'll be more than welcome to
visit."

"I could hardly go forever without seeing you again," said Brennault,
smiling. "But for now, you're here, I'm here. We'll work with what we've
got." Then he grinned a little wider.

"With as much time as you've spent convalescing here, there's bound to
be a healer who thinks you're out to spend time with them, too."

Lorican couldn't help it; he blushed scarlet. "Ah, well. I didn't intend
to get injured the way I did, of course. But..." He realised there was
no hiding the fact that his friend had, by accident, uncovered his
secret. "Being back under the healers' care isn't entirely unwelcome to me."

"Yeah?" asked Brennault with no small amount of excitement and intrigue.
"Well, who's the lucky healer?" he wondered. Of course, most healers
were probably professional enough not to fall in love with their
patients, but... nobody was a patient forever.

"It's nothing, really," Lorican admitted, lowering his gaze. "She's so
beautiful and accomplished - and she's a Master. She'd never be
interested in me, not as a man rather than a patient. It's enough just
to see her, in the infirmary." He sighed. "You'd think I'd have grown
out of unrequited love by now."

"Why shouldn't she be interested?" asked Brennault, reaching out to pat
Lorican's shoulder encouragingly. "You're good looking, clever, good at
what you do, kind, thoughtful... That seems to be what most people are
after, isn't it?" He offered a smile, hating to see Lorican so down on
himself.

The smith smiled, despite himself. "Thanks, Brennault. I suppose it's
just...she's not most people. She's special. She should be with someone
who's like that, too, like a Craftmaster, or a bronzerider. Not some
accident-prone journeyman." He shook his head. "You don't want to spend
your time listening to my romantic misfortunes. Let's go to the dining
cavern, get a drink, and catch up on all the Weyr gossip since we last met."

"For what it's worth," said Brennault, turning to walk with Lorican
toward the dining cavern, "you seem pretty special to me. Any woman
would be lucky to have caught your eye." He smiled. And with that, he
launched into everything he had been about since the last time they had
crossed paths.

Last updated on the September 11th 2019

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A Gift in Gratitude