Dragonsfall Weyr
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Healer Hall
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Dolphin Cove Weyr
Dolphin Hall
Emerald Falls Hold
Harper Hall
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Green Valley Hold
Leeward Lagoon Hold

Barrier Lake Weyr
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Elsewhere on Pern
NPC Weyr
River Bluff Weyr
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Story Listing
Series Listing

Weyrling Training

Writers: Duskdog
Date Posted: 17th February 2024

Characters: J'kellar
Description: On the morning after Impressing, J’kellar’s thoughts get away from him
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 9, day 4 of Turn 10
Notes: Mentioned: Kadira, Ki’ben, K’aur, J’ler, R’hil

It was a blessing, perhaps, that Rokolth didn’t give J’kellar enough time to think too hard about anything that happened the day before.

_Chop. Chop. Chop._ He had to pay attention to what he was doing if he didn’t want to lose a finger or four. Butchering raw meat was no problem -- after all, he’d done it plenty of times back on the farm -- but it was a little more difficult on only a few hours of sleep after a big, emotionally-exhausting day, with a hungry day-old dragonet nudging at him and bleating in his head about how hungry he was.

And then there was bathing the little beast, who wriggled and rolled over onto his back and kicked his legs like he thought it was playtime, re-dirtying himself in the process and making the whole affair take longer than it should until J’kellar sternly forced him to roll back over and sit (mostly) still.

And then the oiling, which Rokolth accepted happily and calmly as his meal and the energy expenditure began to make him sleepy again. Through their new bond, J’kellar could _feel_ the blue’s pleasure, not just from the oil, but from the physical contact with his rider. It was a strange thing, to look at someone outside yourself and instinctively know what effect your actions, words, and even your thoughts were having on them. It made him feel responsible for someone else’s feelings in a way that he never had before -- and only reinforced why he shouldn’t think too much about things that bothered him. Rokolth was a baby, Rokolth was innocent. He didn’t know or care about the world outside their barracks, and the thought of thinking something that might inadvertently upset him just seemed so _wrong_.

It wasn’t until Rokolth was asleep again, and J’kellar could finally get a bath and breakfast for himself, that he was left alone with his thoughts again.

He scrubbed at his hair and rinsed, then worked his way down, unable to keep his eyes from roaming occasionally to his fellow weyrlings from both his clutch and the previous month’s. Not like _that_ -- Faranth knew that sex was the last thing on his mind right now -- but more… well, what made _them_ so different from him? He knew the names of most of them from his candidacy, at least, but didn’t yet know all of them well, or even what all the boys were calling themselves now. J’ler, K’aur, Ki’ben, R’hil… what made _them_ so special? What made them better than him? More worthy of status? Of leadership? There wasn’t anything _wrong_ with them -- he might even have been happy for them, if only he could understand _why_.

Worse, though, was the _girl_. Well, all of them, but the one in particular -- Kadira. He knew her name whether he liked it or not, because everyone in the Weyr yesterday had been talking about her. It was impossible not to know who she was, even though nobody seemed to know or care who he was. Not everyone was thrilled with her Impression, true… but at least she was _somebody_, and here he was, _nobody_. Rejected by his family, for the color of Rokolth’s hide. Overlooked by everyone else, because after all, what’s another blue Impressed by some outsider they don’t really know? Oh, people had congratulated him, certainly. He couldn’t wallow in that, couldn’t stew over it, because he was at least fair enough to give credit where credit is due. The weyrfolk at least were mostly genuinely nice, and seemed genuinely happy to see all of the weyrlings (minus, perhaps, Kadira, depending on who you spoke to). They had asked his name, asked his dragon’s name, and J’kellar had gotten to feel that rush of joyous, bursting heart that came with saying Rokolth’s name out loud and stirring those feelings of new _completeness_ once again.

But he couldn’t help but feel as if, in some of those interactions, something had been missing. Sometimes, the tone was different than the way they addressed the boys who had Impressed _better_. It didn’t feel as if he had accomplished something truly _great_, even though logically he knew he had, because all dragonriders were incredibly rare and special. But still, it felt as if in the grand scheme of the Weyr, where so many dragonriders lived, he was merely mediocre -- had accomplished _adequately_ and not _greatly_ -- and it hurt to know that that was all he’d ever be in his new home. It rankled.

He dried himself off quickly, got dressed, and hurried to get his breakfast. The only thing he could really control now was not giving the Weyrlingmaster any reason to think less of him. He might be only a bluerider, but he wasn’t going to allow himself to be seen as a lazy, stupid, or weak bluerider. He was no layabout, like some of these fat, spoiled weyrboys. And he definitely wasn’t any delicate little _girl_, like the famous Kadira, who couldn’t change what she was even if a confused and possibly deficient blue _had_ chosen her.

_”No better than a girl,”_ his father had said derisively last night, and he’d felt the words like a twist in his gut, a stabbing pain in his heart, a swelling in his throat, a burning behind his eyes. And, on the tail of that, a clenching of his fists. _Nobody_ would ever get away with talking to him like that ever again.

}:What are you thinking about?:{ Rokolth asked suddenly, interrupting his rider’s thoughts, his mindvoice sleepy but radiating unease and growing concern.

Only then did J’kellar realize he had been clutching his spoon far too tightly, seething over his morning porridge, and apparently leaking his emotions all over the place.

_Like some kind of woman, ugh._

**Nothing,** he replied, forcing the feelings down. They weren’t helping. They weren’t going to make him an exemplary bluerider. They were only upsetting his dragon -- the best dragon in the clutch, the most beautiful, the strongest and bravest, who had chosen _him_, J’kellar, out of all the candidates at the Weyr.

}:Who is that man in your head who makes you upset? Who is his dragon?:{

**He doesn’t have a dragon.**

}:Oh. Well he is nobody then. He can stay on the ground and be sad.:{

Abruptly, J’kellar felt his jaw unclench, and his muscles relax. He nearly laughed. How easy it must be to be a baby dragon, with no real understanding of, or care for, anything beyond eating and sleeping.

But he liked the simple savagery of it. His father, his brothers… they would always be landbound. Farmers -- nothing to be ashamed of, truly -- but farmers just the same. And farmers were a thirty-second mark a dozen, while dragonriders were _priceless_. Nobody outside the Weyr mattered. They weren’t allowed to have an opinion on him, or on his dragon. As for those within the Weyr, well… wait until they saw what J’kellar and Rokolth could do.

Last updated on the February 23rd 2024