Slice of Life

Writers: Halyonix, Iluva, Sia
Date Posted: 11th December 2024

Characters: M'thos, T'mhas, I'serin
Description: The Weyrleader comes to dinner
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 1, day 24 of Turn 12
Notes: Mentioned: Varethos

M'thos

T'mhas

I'serin

}: Fianwyth's rider is requesting your itinerary for this evening, :{
Aluneth spoke, interrupting I'serin's thoughts. }: I believe for an
informal dinner at their weyr. :{

I'serin's brow furrowed. Informal dinner? Well, he was not opposed to
that. He had had a pleasant conversation with the Weyrlingmaster
Second already, despite the circumstances that spawned it. Another few
hours spent in his company would be amenable. **I can be available.
Ask him what time and if there is anything I should bring?**

}: Just your wonderful self. :{ Fianwyth relayed to Aluneth. }:
Ghraisath and I will see you soon.:{

**Flirt.** M'thos teased, though Fianwyth didn't seem to mind. She was
starting to have the gentlest, emerald glow that foretold her Rise in
a few days. **You three better behave when Aluneth shows up.**

}: Take it up with your weyrmate, love. :{ Fianwyth answered.

Dinner itself was simple, since Tamerel was intent on helping. A nice
salad, some meatrolls and tubers with a nice dipping gravy, and
carefully negotiated redfruit juice to share (should I'serin want it)
and beer for the other two adults. The candidate-aged kids had better
things to do than attend a family dinner, and all three sudden
unavailabilities prompted M'thos to invite the new Weyrleader over.
He'd been thinking about it for a while, but didn't want to subject
the man to three rowdy teenagers who, even on their best behaviour,
were not exactly polite company. At least the place was clean. Cleaner
than it had been in turns, now that there was only one kid in the
other room and the cooking chaos could be easily wiped away.

M'thos heard the wingbeats on the ledge around the same time he felt
Fianwyth perk up and purr a greeting. "Come on in, I'serin! Make
yourself at home. Can I get you something to drink?"

Truthfully, T'mhas hadn't given this dinner a whole lot of thought.
Someone was usually staying or coming (or not coming) for dinner,
anyway, and flying in the Weyrleader's wing baked in some base level
of familiarity and understanding between two people, same as any other
wingmate. He showered compliments on the two dragons, tamed the kid's
curly mop one last time, and then got his bulk into a clean shirt. He
was still jerking the collar and doing buttons as he loped back out to
the kitchen, clearly unconcerned with impressions or scrutiny.

But Tamerel-

"He's here!"

-was another story.

Fianwyth and Ghraisath's greeting sent him bounding through the main
area like an amorphous kid-sized blob.

"Only as many questions as ya got Turns," T'mhas reminded the boy.
"Got kids, I'serin? Don't worry," he grinned, "this one's friendly."

I'serin had momentarily frozen as Tamarel bounced into sight. He was
not against children but there were times when they had so _much_
energy and I'serin was uncertain how to connect with that. "Hello," he
said slowly in greeting to Tamerel, plastering a mask of polite
interest on his face.

"Hi!" Tamerel beamed back. "I'm Tamerel. Those are my dads." He
gestured vaguely behind him, as if I'serin had in fact come to meet
_him_. Most visitors were familiar and got tackled upon entry, but
this new and highly important face meant he wasn't quite sure what to
do with his hands... Salute? He was pretty sure only Riders did that.
"And _you're_ the Weyrleader. C'mon, you can choose aaaany seat you
want."

Setting a sweating pitcher of cold water on the table, T'mhas was
eyeing the boy as much as he was I'serin in case Tamerel cornered the
man into checking out his dragon stuffy collection.

"If ya let him then maybe he will," he chided with no small amount of
affection. The table, cleared of riding gear and books and drawings
done by a young unsteady hand, had the least amount of chairs skirting
it in some time, the others stacked off to one side. The older boys
were unlikely to share the same sense of hospitality as the youngest,
though they weren't as easily impressed, either. It was quiet in the
evenings now. T'mhas shot M'thos a sly grin, the kind of stupid look
that preceded kids, or dinners, or current Weyrleadership. "Need a
hand with anything?"

"Can you get the forks? Tamerel was about to help before someone
better came along." M'thos replied with a grin. Then, to I'serin,
"Priority seating here is _almost_ as prestigious as the
Weyrleadership, you see." He said with a grin. "Can I get you anything
to drink?"

I'serin had a feeling that a strong drink might be required by the end
of this evening. "Wine, if you have it," he requested as he took what
seemed to be the seat near the head of the table but left the head
seat for T'mhas or M'thos, since it was their weyr. "I do thank you
for the invitation and welcome," he managed politely. "Aluneth, more
importantly, thanks you for saving me from yet another evening of
staring at maps."

"Anytime," T'mhas grinned, steering the excited boy by his curly head
into his own chair. "It's just good none of the older ones are here.
Everyone's got a shirt on this time." He gave an indulgent roll of his
eyes at M'thos and returned with forks a moment later, a nicely
chilled bottle of wine under his arm, which he started to pour for the
other men. "Wine?" he whispered wickedly to his son, who rolled his
eyes in a near-perfect imitation of his father.

M'thos matched the eyeroll with one of his own. "Thank Faranth they're
in the barracks. The boys' side smells bad enough, I know what it'd be
like here with all of them crammed into that space. Now that they're
almost all gone, I think I'm going to turn the extra living area into
a Harper studio. Tamerel takes up such little space that I could
probably do it before he moves out." He raised his eyebrows teasingly
at the littlest one.

I'serin's eyes lit up with interest. "A Harper's studio?" he echoed.
"Are you a painter?"

"I dabble, but mostly just to keep up with Tamerel." M'thos answered.
"I used to compose a bit and was passable at making my own
instruments, but between the Pass and little ones underfoot I don't
get a lot of time for it. It'd be nice to have a worktable that we
don't have to clear and dump on our bed whenever we have guests." He
shot a coy, knowing look at T'mhas at the thought of the pile of hides
and equipment thrown in their room.

Tamerel went from looking mildly offended to positively chuffed at
M'thos. "Dad, you sing too! A lot better than Dad can."

There was no argument from T'mhas there, who was already reclined
comfortably in his chair and letting the tensions of the day melt
away. Tamerel was still far too young to understand sarcasm or catch
innuendo, having no reaction at all when T'mhas added, "Yeah, an awl
ain't exactly what you want pokin' ya first thing in the mornin'." He
bounced his eyebrows back at his mate, and then to I'serin, explained,
"Merry's humble. He's been playin' at Hatching feasts long before he
was chaperoning 'em. But y'know I wouldn't mind a punching bag in
here, especially in the winter. Tamerel bunks up with Fianwyth and
Ghraisath more'n his own room anyway."

Out on the ledge, a low dubious rumble.

I'serin let out a low chuckle. "Singing is not a skill I am proficient
in though I do appreciate a good song or two. Ballads, with their
history and musical construction, have always been works I have
enjoyed. Some of them seem quite technically challenging. It seems I
could take some inspiration from your weyr though, as to how to
decorate mine." He had moved all of his belongings into his new
Weyrleader's weyr but there was still space leftover and he had little
idea what to do with it.

"It's less decorating and more accumulating junk." M'thos said with a
dismissive wave. "We've lived in this weyr since we graduated
weyrlinghood ourselves." He paused a moment, considering T'mhas with a
sly grin. "How long _have_ we been weyrmates, Tam? I've been going by
Varethos' age, but we were living here a little bit before he came
along."

"About as long as we've been roommates." Tam replied with smooth
vaguery, drinking his beer. T'mhas' amusement with the situation
remained plain, despite it momentarily stilling into a pensive stare.
He smelled a trap in that smile. It was _always_ that smile. And he
wasn't put out by being roped in by it, either. "Since we moved in.
It's the reason we moved in here," he answered finally, looking
between M'thos and I'serin with a shrugging nonchalance, "he couldn't
keep his hands off me."

"I beg your pardon." M'thos said with exaggerated incredulousness, "I
don't think you even stepped foot in your weyrling weyr. You lived out
of that duffel bag for _months_."

"Hey look," T'mhas angled slightly toward him, his own sly grin
happening. "I wasn't goin' anywhere. But it ain't like you were
lettin' me leave." Then he ate a piece of meat off the end of his
knife and gestured encouragingly with it for Tamerel to start his
vegetables. "Mm this is great, by the way," meaning the food.

Listening to the banter between the two weyrmates -- the two _male_
weyrmates -- unfurled a tendril of wistful sadness in I'serin's heart.
Could there be hope for him one day, like this? No. It seemed unlikely
and though he could offer a half dozen reasons as to why, it all truly
boiled down to the fact that I'serin did not believe he deserved this
sort of happiness. Aluneth had chosen him for other reasons -- his
sexuality would have to remain its own separate issue to be handled.

"The food is quite delicious," he agreed. He heard Aluneth rumble
darkly, usually indicative of the dragon about to make a
counterargument but I'serin begged him quietly otherwise. Not tonight.
He wanted to enjoy the company, not overthink things like usual. "My
compliments to the cooks."

"What I couldn't manage up here I charmed out of the Lower Caverns."
M'thos admitted. "I've managed to avoid Oselle so far, but I'm not too
old to get chased out of the kitchens. And then Tamerel is going to
have to fend for himself. Sorry buddy."

He leaned back in his chair, looking between the two men. He looked
like he might say more, but decided against it. "So, how has Azure
been since I've left?"

Tamerel had long been driven deaf from the nonstop adult talk and was
pursuing his supper with the same intense focus (and success) as a
canine with their tail. Watching him, T'mhas looked up to tease M'thos
unhelpfully, "Quieter."

That was quite the question. I'serin took a sip of wine and then
settled into the next chapter of conversation.

Last updated on the January 1st 2025

Welcome to Triad Weyrs!

Slice of Life