Fleeting First Impressions

Writers: Aaron, Halyonix
Date Posted: 23rd March 2024

Characters: K'far, I'lon
Description: A chance meeting turns into the start of something?
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 8, day 11 of Turn 11

Dinner was always a bustling affair. Wings preferred to eat together, and though that was not always required, it was absolutely I'lon's preference. He was not much for loud gatherings to begin with but the camaraderie of dragonriders was hard to avoid and he owed much to his Wing.

As I'lon moved through the Dining Hall on his way to his Wing's table, he maintained an awareness of those around him, who were moving on their own routes to their own destinations. His carefulness, however, did not stop him from the unawares of others, namely one dimglow of a greenrider who wasn't paying attention as they stood up, and thus running straight into I'lon.

To make the situation just a bit more embarrassing, the mug of juice that I'lon was holding was knocked out of his hand and into the lap of a nearby brownrider.

I'lon let out a very long sigh. Then, he shot the greenrider a glowering look, practically hissing at them to be gone while he fixed their mess. "My apologies," he said with a calm he did not feel, as he addressed the brownrider.

K'far blinked, staring in some amount of shock at his soggified lap. Before the unexpected dousing, he had been lost somewhere between thought and sleep, staring emptily as he recovered from a long, wearying workday, and the cool liquid yanked him back fully to reality.

Something about the whole thing was delightfully absurd, and he could not help but burst into laughterâ€" and he only felt a tiny bit of guilt for startling the rider sitting to his left.

"Oh, skies." He wiped a tear from his eye, nodded an apology to the perturbed neighbor, and then stood to join I'lon. He knew the man's name but little else about him. "That chaps straps." He chuckled and wiped the excess off onto the floor in hopes that he would not drip as he walked. "Here, come with me. We'll skip to the front of the line and grab you another one, and I'll find something to soak up the puddle."

"You alright?"

I'lon was rather surprised that the other man -- K'far, wasn't it? -- had laughed. Most people did not like being doused unexpectedly with liquids. But that laughter, that humored attitude towards the whole embarrassment, intrigued I'lon, who, with a quizzical expression, followed the brownrider back to the front of the line to replace the drink and get cleaned up. "The drink can wait," he said as they approached. "Your clothing should not. Here, allow me." I'lon strode forward to stop the nearest drudge, giving succinct instructions with a few points of his finger at a wet K'far for emphasis, before indicating to the other rider that they could wait a few paces away, where they would not be disturbed while the drudge fetched a towel.

"Again, my apologies. It seems not everyone is fond of watching where they are going. I'm I'lon," he said.

"I'lon." K'far held out his hand to shake but then glanced at it. "Ach. Well, no hard feelings if you don't want to shake a sticky hand." He chuckled again. "I'm K'far. As long as you're not hurt, everything's fine. How's your day going otherwise?"

I'lon did not take the proffered hand. Instead, the edge of his mouth quirked in a smile and he inclined his head, acknowledging. "Other than this, my day is going quite well. And yours?"

"It's been a long, hard day," K'far chuckled. He had already embraced the absurdity. "But this is something new and different, so I've got that going for me, at least."

New and different was not what I'lon had expected to hear about the situation. But K'far seemed genuine in his statements so that quirked smile grew with intrigue. "Steady as usual," he answered. Then, looking back at the transgressing greenrider, who had already moved on in their day, he added, "Mostly." His gaze turned back towards K'far. "Torth's rider, am I correct?" he asked. "In the Queens' Wing."

"That's us!" K'far accepted the towel from the drudge when she returned and blotted up the liquid. And since he was at the front of the line anyway, he took the opportunity to snag another drink for himself, too. He might as well.

"I see my legend has spread far and wide beyond the Queen's Wing." He chuckled. Everything was funny when one was this tired.

"'Legend?'" I'lon echoed. "Well, I suppose so. At least it isn't infamy." He also took the moment to snag a fresh drink and then followed K'far away after he had finished with the towel. "I imagine that the Queens' Wing has a different...rhythm than the other fighting Wings. Would I be correct?"

"That's a good way to put it," said K'far. "It has its own unique challenges. I was grateful for the opportunity, regardless. What sort of rhythm do you prefer?"

I'lon's eyes flickered with steely challenge. "One that keeps me thinking. Not guessing. Thinking," he answered. The Queens' Wing was the last resort for dragonriders to catch Thread but a lot of their time was also spent catching injured dragons. Flying in a higher Wing meant first strike and lots of action. I'lon preferred that to waiting. "But I suppose there is honor to be had in protecting the queens. We would not have our dragons without them."

"Saibra asked for me personally," said K'far. "So I could hardly say no, even if I had wanted to. I certainly wouldn't want the protection of our queens left to someone who did want to say no."

The Weyrwoman had asked for the brownrider personally? I'lon's eyebrow quirked with intrigue. "May I inquire as to why you personally?" he asked politely.

"Well, in the interest of full disclosure," K'far chuckled, "she asked for me as one of several and chose me after a respectably lengthy interview process." He grinned. "But that sounds less impressive, doesn't it?"

The eyebrow lowered. So, nothing terribly intriguing there, unless he was to ask the Weyrwoman and I'lon knew better than to bother a woman of such importance for mere curiosity. "You must have made quite an impact in her mind then," he said as they claimed a table. "And when the Weyrwoman doesn't claim your time? What do you do then?" he asked.

}:Whoops,:{ said Torth. }:You had almost impressed him there for a moment.:{

K'far grinned nonetheless.

"She and I agreed most closely on what the position should require," he said. "I don't do much different than any other wingsecond, I suspect. I went to a wedding not too long ago. Reconnected with a friend from before Torth. What about you?"

Calculating mirth glimmered in I'lon's blue eyes. "You sound just as interesting as myself," he remarked. "I do not suppose you find yourself often reading a book late into the night?"

"Oh, I usually like to get my beauty sleep, as they say, but I've been known to stay up with a good read on the eve of a restday every now and again." K'far grinned. He was not sure whether I'lon considered himself interesting or not.

I'lon tilted his head to the side just a little. Interesting. "Well, if you perchance come across a good read that you'd like to share with me, I would be interested in hearing about it." He held up a hand lightly, his expression falling into disagreement. "Though, no romantic harper tales please. I am not inclined." I'lon didn't think that K'far would be into that genre but he didn't want to assume too much.

K'far laughed.

"Oh, nothing so racy. I've got a book on my nightstand about a family marooned on a small island, building a new life together, getting very clever about water powered conveniences, that kind of thing. I'm about halfway through and haven't managed to find time for it in... a month or two," he explained.

"A Harper did write it, thoughâ€" if that's still a deal breaker." He grinned.

That grin brought a mirroring smirk from I'lon. "No," he answered, "You intrigued me with the premise. I would like to hear what you thought about it once you find time to finish it." I'lon looked down at his cup. It was nearly empty. But perhaps also was the conversation -- for now. He drained the last bit and stood. "I must be getting back to my duties," he said. "I hope that we can converse again sometime. And under less...messy circumstances."

"Fate willing and the creek don't rise," said K'far. He held out a hand for I'lon.

There was something -- a fleeting expression of intrigue? -- that flickered in I'lon's eyes. "Fate willing indeed," he intoned, sliding his hand into K'far's. If there was anything more than the bluerider felt, it was carefully hidden behind a mask of polite amusement. "Enjoy your evening," he said before he slipped away.

Last updated on the March 28th 2024

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Fleeting First Impressions