Dinner Investigation

Writers: Devin, Iluva, Sia
Date Posted: 12th February 2025

Characters: K'mai, M'thos, T'mhas, Tamerel
Description: K'mai has dinner with M'thos and T'mhas and he has questions.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 2, day 17 of Turn 12
Notes: Mentioned: I'serin, Varethos

K'mai

M'thos

T'mhas

"Thanks for having me over," K'mai said as he set wine and a tray of
bubbly pies down on the table. The weyr was messy, as M'thos had
warned, but it felt like a place of warmth and happiness.

The weyr was messy partially because M'thos and Tamerel had taken up
arts and crafts after dinner and the table was covered in paper and
paint, which he'd slowly relocated back into the kids room along with
the small child. Paint still stuck to the table and speckled the
greenrider's forearms, despite the hasty washing.

"You're welcome anytime, but especially with wine and desserts."
M'thos said cheerily, "Tam's almost done hiding most of the mess in
the closet."

"You don't have to hide it for my sake. I've seen a _lot_ worse, trust
me." K'mai chuckled.

From down the hall T'mhas emerged escorting their curly-headed child
out despite his earnest protests of "but Fianwyth said I could"--
which hadn't worked since Varethos was a kid and was surprisingly
nostalgic to hear all these turns later.

"Evening K'mai," the bronzerider called in his low baritone, crouching
to whisper to his son, "Go and wash up, again. Right now."

Tamerel rubbed his ear on his shoulder against the burn of T'mhas'
stubble and turned huge blue eyes up at his father like his hands were
coated shiny green with paint again because of someone else. "Can I
play after?"

"No, we're 'bout to have dinner."

The boy frowned. "But Dad, Fianwyth said-"

"No, she didn't. I'm saying this. _Go_." T'mhas said sternly, grinning
behind Tamerel's back as he pushed him into the kitchen. Despite not
being a part of the arts and crafts, T'mhas' white shirt was dappled
green at the hem as well. Absently eyeing the pies with interest, he
said to his mate, "Merry, who in Faranth's name gave him those paints?
Was that his mother?"

"If it was, I would never tell you." M'thos said dryly, "I only have
myself to blame. Those are my paints. The artist had a masterpiece in
mind and we got distracted. It's important to nurture creativity,
Tam." He shot the bronzerider a teasing grin. "Fianwyth says we can
have pie before dinner, though."

It was the very picture of domesticity and K'mai smiled warmly. "With
the other not-so-little ones in the barracks, do you have any more
time to yourselves these days?"

T'mhas snorted like the first part of what M'thos said was more
challenge than hard line, but shrugged, "I ain't arguin' that, but
that just means you're cleanin' his 'creativity' off his walls after.
That artist's got it shardin' everywhere, Mer." His perplexed frown
shifted into one of his more charming smiles, then, winking at the
green out on the ledge, "Thanks Fi," he broke off a piece of golden
crust.

"You'd think so, but not really." Tam slid into a chair as he
considered K'mai's question, "M'thos just couldn't bear to be apart
from the kids for so long, so he decided to move into the barracks
with 'em. I mostly see him in between inspections, breakin' up fights
and finger paintin'." He grinned.

"Just when they thought they'd seen the last of me." M'thos said with
a laugh, "I used to teach the little ones their ballads, before the
Pass. Used to take Fianwyth on rotation around the cotholds. I forgot
how much I missed it. You've got a small one, K'mai, don't you? Around
Tamerel's age?"

K'mai nodded, smiling fondly. "Sabia. I love spending time with her
but I couldn't live with her the way you do with yours. I don't know
how you do it."

T'mhas exhaled heavily. "Pff me either. It can be a lot, especially
hungover." Popping another piece of crust in his mouth, he said with
palpable affection, "I still blame Varethos. We got that one
well-behaved kid first and the rest were twice hard." When it was
three of them at the same time, it was better to be deaf, or to have
two of you. A wink went to M'thos at that thought, and not the brief
clattering sound from the kitchen.

K'mai finished a bite. "So how did you two meet?" He was still kicking
himself for not noticing sooner. For not noticing _I'serin_ sooner.
All those turns of playful flirting, assuming I'serin would never be
into it because he rode bronze.

Tamerel joined the table at last, his shirt doused with water and
hands practically sparkling as he tucked in.

"We were candidates." T'mhas answered. "Impressed in the same clutch."

K'mai's burning need to know more pushed him to ask, "Did you know you
liked men before you Impressed? Or did you figure that out after?"
With a slightly embarrassed smile he added, "Sorry if I'm being rude."

After a somewhat wary pause, T'mhas replied, "You are, but it ain't
all that different from when the older boys are here." He hadn't been
asked that in quite so many words all that often, let alone with what
he assumed was curiosity, not suspicion. He debated simply carrying on
eating and ignoring the question, out of private humor if not overt
offense.

But his kid was watching, and listening. And K'mai was a fine rider, a
man M'thos seemed to like well enough to invite over for dinner. And
it wasn't like when he was twenty one and terrified because his
parents were asking more questions and somehow going to _find out_ all
the way over in Agate Valley all over again.

The bronzerider exhaled, leaning back and out of his wary stare. His
huge arms still crossed loosely over his huge chest, but he didn't
seem quite as annoyed by the question. "Well, I got Searched outta the
farmercraft hall, so I didn't know a whole lot about it," he admitted.
"I knew that some men did, but it was... real shallow til I got here.
And I thought- I hoped Ghraisath being bronze meant I _didn't_ like
men, you know the usual shit." He snorted. "It took me a long time to
actually admit that I knew I did. And I only knew I was in real
trouble when I was already stuck on one man," he lazily gulped his
drink, "and by then we were livin' together."

K'mai laughed softly and then took a breath. "I am sorry for being
forward. It's just that everyone assumes bronze -- and brown -- riders
aren't into men at all. But if there's one," he gestured at T'mhas,
"there must be more. And I don't want men like me -- _us_-- to think
that they need to feel wrong or pretend or _hide_." He realized his
voice was rising and he took a drink, trying to cover it.

"It always seemed odd to me," M'thos said easily, reaching over to
squeeze T'mhas' arm. He'd sprung this on him, and the man had never
been fully comfortable saying it out loud. "That the majority of the
Weyr's fighting force _must_ like men, when we know the majority
don't, or don't exclusively. My preference is more towards the person,
myself, than their gender. I don't think dragonets are thinking much
about that when they first hatch. Fianwyth certainly doesn't think
about romance the same way I do."

"I was always upset the holders got so much wrong, but it turns out
_we're_ wrong about some things too," K'mai said. "I don't want it to
be like that anymore." He wanted to show I'serin that it was okay,
that he wasn't alone.

"We rely so much on the holds for Search, especially in the last
twenty turns. And even before that, when clutches were so rare it was
easy to make assumptions of greens and blues." M'thos said, "Makes me
think about during the last Pass, when all the Northern Weyrs were
open. Before we had Weyrholds. Did they have the same ideas we do?" He
shrugged, grinning, "But that's neither here nor there. Where did this
line of questioning come from, if you don't mind?"

K'mai swallowed. He couldn't answer _that_ could he? He took a bite of
bubbly pie to give himself a moment to think. It was so much easier to
lie when he was playing a prank or having fun with some holders. It
was so much harder when it was something that mattered. "Just . . .
been hearing some things, and then I took a closer look at the two of
you. I mean, _literally_ weyrmates, right here the whole time I've
been at Dragonsfall. I feel like such a dimglow."

T'mhas' gaze hovered consideringly over K'mai in a way it hadn't
before. He didn't feign much (or any) belief in what the bluerider
just gave for an explanation, but plenty of what K'mai had brought to
the dinner table rang true, and familiar - namely the way K'mai
clearly cared about this to the point of intrusion, just as someone
else had (and still did). He looked over at M'thos; disgruntled and
amused. "Well," he said to K'mai, "bout time you noticed. You know
you're s'posed to be flying Thread with those eyes." He snorted. "So,
you found any other bronzeriders you want to talk to?"

"Not yet," K'mai lied with a pleasant smile. "But I'm _definitely_
going to be on the lookout now." He gazed up at the ceiling and sighed
happily, "Oh, the possibilities . . ." Then he turned back to T'mhas
with a more serious expression. "If I do, could I tell them about your
relationship? Or maybe say something quietly to a Candidate who thinks
bronze is out of reach because he likes boys?"

"Takes more'n one comment to change a kid's mind." T'mhas snorted.

He was hardly keen on the idea, that old instinct to protect what was
most precious resurfacing, but he glanced speculatively at M'thos, not
entirely sure what to make of any of it -- the questions, the dinner,
the profound silencing effect the onslaught of Adult Talk had on a
normally chatty Tamerel.

It was too bad, really, more people didn't know what is was like to
move in with your best friend from weyrlinghood and still be listening
to sharding trumpets and banjos every day twenty Turns later. And it
was really too bad they didn't have their kid chucking themselves into
that man's arms the moment he walked in the door, singing along with
whatever song M'thos chose, tattling on him yet again for swearing.

The bronzerider matched gazes with their son, perking up at the lull
in conversation. "Is it time for dessert?" Tamerel asked hopefully.

"It sure is. Gimme a hand, will ya, buddy?" As T'mhas collected their
plates, he paused between his mate and the bluerider, "Yeah, alright.
You can tell 'em, K'mai. Just leave our names out of it, will ya? We
ain't lookin' to serve dinner and dessert to the whole shardin' Weyr."

K'mai nodded. "Okay." It would be harder if he couldn't give names,
I'serin might not even _believe_ him, but at least he had something.
"Thank you."

T'mhas hesitated a moment, though an encouraging push from Ghraisath
had him saying, "Look. Just... with discretion."

The bluerider straightened. "No names with Candidates or weyrlings.
Only adults who know how to keep things quiet, I promise. And next
time you can have dinner in my weyr."

M'thos fixed T'mhas with a thoughtful, albeit confused look, though
decided to wait until the bluerider had left before restarting the
conversation. "Our kids haven't been particularly quiet in either set
of barracks, K'mai," he said instead, his tone teasing, "It doesn't
need to be the latest bit of gossip. We've managed to avoid that, for
the most part. And dinner at your weyr sounds _lovely_, though the
panic of having guests is a major motivator for cleaning up around
here."

K'mai laughed. "Well if you need an excuse to clean up, I'm happy to
provide that too."

Last updated on the February 18th 2025

Welcome to Triad Weyrs!

Dinner Investigation