How to Scrub Your Dragon

Writers: Devin, Estelle
Date Posted: 21st February 2021

Characters: T'lin, R'ayl
Description: Furayl meets T'lin and Calaroth
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 8, day 20 of Turn 10

T'lin

Calaroth dove into the lake like he was still a weyrling, sending
waves rippling out and earning him a scolding from an older brown who
got splashed. Calaroth gave him a distracted apology as he swam to
shallower water.

T'lin smiled and shook his head as he set down the brushes and bucket
of sweetsand near the waterline. As Calaroth neared he suddenly froze,
eyes whirling faster with interest. }:That one glows.:{

His rider looked over to see who had caught Calaroth's interest. He
snorted when he spotted the skinny boy. **Cal, of course he glows. You
see those knots? That's a Candidate you doorknob!**

The blue huffed. }:Well the knots do not make him stop glowing. I like
him.:{

That boy had to be barely old enough to Stand and T'lin hadn't seen
him around before so he must be new. "Ho there, Candidate! If you're
free, would you like to help me wash my dragon?"

Furayl had come to the lake as soon as the candidates had been released
from class. He'd been drawn there by the sight of dragons swimming and
playing in the water, their jewel-bright hides glittering with droplets
like jewels in the sunlight. Awed by the sight, he'd dared to come a few
paces closer to the water's edge when he heard the voice and turned to
see a dark-haired young man with dragonrider's knots looking right at him.

For a moment he was too scared to speak, thinking he must have done
something wrong. Maybe only dragonriders were allowed near the lake? But
then he saw the dragon behind him in the water, his faceted eyes
whirling with gentle colors, and somehow that calmed him enough to
realize he was being asked to help.

"Could I?" he asked, with a nervous wobble in his voice. "B-but I don't
know how..."

"Calaroth and I can teach you." T'lin smiled and waved him over. "Come on."

Furayl approached, step by cautious step, his head tilting back to gaze
up at the dragon. As he neared the water, he remembered his manners and
made a quick bow. "My duty to you, Calaroth. Thank you for letting me
help wash you." The tension in his body relaxed a fraction as he turned
to T'lin. "He's so beautiful."

With a fond smile, T'lin said, "Yes, he is. I'm T'lin, what's your name?"

Calaroth lowered his head, softly crooning at the boy.

"Furayl." He recognized the croon as the same sound that Fusith, the
green who'd Searched him had made, and wondered what it meant. Maybe it
was a greeting? Or maybe the dragon was pleased that he was going to be
bathed? He glanced at T'lin. "Does he want me to...do anything, sir? I'm
sorry. I haven't met many dragons."

Calaroth leaned even closer and tilted his head. T'lin laughed. "He
_was_ just happy to meet you, but now he wants his eyeridge
scratched." The rider moved over to demonstrate, moving his fingers
along the protrusion above the multifaceted eyes. "Like this."

Furayl had to stand on tiptoe to reach up and cautiously touch the ridge
above Calaroth's gently whirling eyes. At first he ran his fingers
lightly over the hide, then copied T'lin in scratching. "Is that all right?"

"Just a bit harder, he says." T'lin looked over at the young
Candidate. "Cal is a Search dragon and he's very interested in you. I
haven't seen you around before, so I'm guessing you're new."

The boy nodded. "I was Searched. From the Weaver Hall, at Emerald Falls.
I've only been here a few days." Cautiously, he pressed a little more
firmly in scratching the blue's eyeridge.

Calaroth crooned his approval. "Just like that," T'lin said. "This all
must be pretty overwhelming for you, huh? I came from a small hold,
and I remember the Weyr feeling so _big_ and busy."

"Yes. It's not like what I expected..." When he'd imagined the Weyr,
back home, it had always been dark and shadowy, a maze of eerie caverns
lit by flickering glows, and locked cells. He'd never thought that
there'd be ordinary spaces, like the kitchens or the laundry, or
gossiping drudges and children playing. "There are lady crafters. And
there's so much food!"

T'lin laughed. "Yes, they feed us very well! And here, women can be
anything they want . . . well, except for Weyrleader." He smiled at
Furayl.

He returned the smile, tentatively. "My sister would like that." T'lin
seemed friendly, like the Searchrider. But then he checked himself. How
could he really know? And his sister had told him she hated the Weyr for
what they'd done to Grevan, she would never like it here. His gaze
dropped and he looked at the water, gently lapping at the edge of the
lake. "Should I help to clean him now?"

"Oh, yes," T'lin said with a little laugh. He handed the boy a brush
and set the bucket of sweetsand between them. Calaroth settled himself
a little lower in the water so he'd be easier to reach. "So, you scrub
him like this, working up a good lather." T'lin demonstrated.

Furayl stepped into the water so he'd be close enough to reach. It felt
odd, with the cool, damp sand between his toes. There'd been no lake or
river near their cot, just the well, and at the Weaver Hall he'd never
dared go to look at the big river that ran down from the falls, though
he knew the older apprentices went there to swim. He did know how to
scrub floors, but Calaroth's hide looked much softer than that. He
didn't want to hurt the dragon. Carefully, watching T'lin, he began to
lightly run the brush over the blue's hide. "Like this?"

"A little harder. Dragon hide is tougher than you think." T'lin
stepped closer and laid his hand over Furayl's, showing him the right
amount of pressure.

The young boy carefully moved the scrubbing brush around in circles as
the dragonrider's hand guided his, seeing how the sweetsand began to
bubble and foam. It was comforting, reminding him of how Master Shuvan,
the only one who'd been kind to him at the Weaver Hall, had showed him
how to touch the threads on his loom. "It really doesn't hurt him?"

"No. You need to be more careful on the wings, especially the
wingsails, and around the headknobs and the eyes. But they like a good
hard scrub." Calaroth bent his neck around to look at Furyl with
gently whirling eyes. "He says that's good."

The boy's smile grew warmer, and he seemed to stand a little taller as
the blue dragon gazed at him. Just for a moment, he forgot his purpose
here and imagined what it would be like if _he_ could ever be a
dragonrider, with a lifemate of his own. His hand stilled on the
scrubbing brush for a moment. "What does it sound like? When he speaks
to you?" Then, startled by his own daring, he blushed. "If it's not rude
to ask..."

"Curiosity is a good thing, and you should certainly be asking
questions about dragons if you're going to have your own soon." T'lin
smiled at him. "He sounds like a voice inside my head. The words are
there just as clearly as you talking to me, only it's straight into my
mind."

"Oh." Furayl's eyes went round in wonder. "And can you speak to him, the
same way?"

"Yes. I can direct my thoughts toward him and he hears them. It took
some getting used to when I first Impressed, and I had to learn how to
_block_ thoughts I didn't want him to hear."

Furayl hadn't even thought of that. What if he did Impress, and his
dragon heard his memories of his brother? Or his nightmares? He tried to
reassure himself that not everyone Impressed, but what if he did? Maybe
he could practice keeping his thoughts to himself, just in case.

"That sounds...strange," he said, trying to keep the worry from his
voice. "Is it difficult?"

"I think it's easier for some than others." T'lin grabbed more
sweetsand. "It was hard for me at first, maybe because I think too
much." He laughed.

}:I like your thoughts. They are interesting.:{

Furayl tried it. **Don't think.** He did his best to focus on scrubbing
Calaroth's hide, moving the brush in slow circles, trying to get the
pressure exactly right like T'lin had showed him, and think of nothing
else. It worked for a short time, but then his worries began creeping
back. Whether he could keep this up all day, what would happen if he
slipped and got caught, whether it would be harder when he was tired...

"What about dreams?" he asked, an anxious note in his voice. "Can he
hear those?"

"No, but a few times when I've had a bad nightmare, it woke him up
because he felt my distress. He doesn't see or hear my dreams unless I
send the thoughts to him after I wake up." T'lin had shared bits of
his dreams with his dragon when Calaroth had asked him to, although he
was careful about how he shared his nightmares, not wanting upset his
lifemate.

"Oh. That's good." Furayl hesitated, feeling some explanation was
needed. "I have nightmares sometimes, too. I wouldn't want a dragon to
share them."

"They'll still feel it though, if it's bad enough. When they're
little, it'll scare them, being woken up by your fear. But then you
can comfort each other, and that part's nice." A world with Thread
meant there was plenty of material for nightmares, and T'lin was far
from the only one who'd woken to a distressed weyrling when he'd been
in the barracks.

"It does sound nice," the boy replied wistfully. To always have your
dragon with you, to love and protect each other. It was a foolish idea
and fraught with difficulties for someone like him, but he couldn't help
daydreaming about it while he continued to scrub.

The water came nearly up to his waist as he worked his way around to
Calaroth's other side, and even by standing on tiptoe and jumping he
couldn't reach all the way up to the blue's back. He couldn't imagine
how the riders cleaned a bronze or gold.

"You need to climb onto his back," T'lin said as he came around from
the other side.

Furayl looked up at the line of ridges along the dragon's back with
trepidation. He'd managed it with the green who'd Searched him, but she
had been smaller and there were no straps this time. "I've only really
done that once..." The foreleg looked like he might just be able to
reach, so he tucked his scrubbing brush under one arm and approached.

Calaroth bent his foreleg as T'lin hurried over to help Furayl. "I was
kind of joking, but I suppose you need to learn that too."

With the bluerider's help, Furayl managed to scramble up onto the
dragon's foreleg and then up to his neck, hoping he wasn't hurting him.
Although a little out of breath, he smiled in delight and his worries
were forgotten for the moment. Holding tightly onto one of the ridges so
he wouldn't slip, he began to scrub Calaroth's back. "This is fun!"

Calaroth crooned. T'lin laughed as his dragon asked him to convey a
message. "He says he _definitely_ likes you." He shaded his eyes as he
looked up at the boy. "Wow! You're a natural, Furayl."

"Thank you!" Furayl's face relaxed and for the first time, he looked
like a cheerful young boy, enjoying a lovely day at the lake. From up on
Calaroth's back he could see out across the water, looking down on the
paddock where the herdbeasts grazed and the path to the beach. He worked
his way back to the wing joints, remembering to take care around them,
and then on to the hind legs before sliding down and landing in the
water with a splash.

He looked up proudly at the blue's freshly cleaned and gleaming hide.
Furayl was soaked to the skin and tired, but there was new color in his
cheeks. He'd never have thought he'd be strong enough to help scrub a
whole dragon! "Do we need to rinse off the sweetsand?"

"Cal will do that himself." T'lin patted the blue's soapy hide and the
dragon moved off to head deeper into the lake. "Do you want to help
oil him too?"

Furayl nodded eagerly as he waded out of the lake, keen to spend more
time with the blue dragon and his rider. "Yes, please! And could I..."
Not quite able to believe his own daring, he went on. "Could I maybe
come and help clean him again, some time?"

"Oh sure!" T'lin patted him on the shoulder. "If you're not busy with
class or other duties next time Cal wants a bath, I'll ask for you."
The boy had been so shy at first, and now he looked so eager. T'lin
was pleased he and Calaroth had brightened his day, and maybe made his
life at the Weyr a little easier.

"Really? Thank you, sir!" If the dragonrider would actually ask for him
to help, Furayl thought proudly, he must have done a decent job. No-one
had ever chosen him to help like that before. He watched as the blue
waded out of the lake, shaking water from his wings, and just for a
short time, he relaxed and forgot all about his fear and the secret
purpose that had brought him to the Weyr.

Last updated on the February 24th 2021

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How to Scrub Your Dragon