An Exhausting Day

Writers: Avery
Date Posted: 8th June 2025

Characters: L'val, Jadirah
Description: L’val is exhausted after the day’s Threadfall, and Jadirah sends him to his room.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 6, day 17 of Turn 12
Notes: Mentioned: K’mai, Lanniya, A’ris, I’serin, Kadira

The Threadfall had begun mid-morning and ended early afternoon, but
L’val’s day hadn’t ended until late evening. Not when he had so many
duties to tackle afterwards, more than usual after Fall.

Ensuring there had been enough riders to be able to run sweeps over
the areas where the Fall had happened had been difficult and required
critical cross-coordination with other Wingleaders, since Cyan and
Teal had taken so many casualties and Cyan simply hadn’t been able to
mount as many riders as they had been scheduled to run. What he’d been
able to do was promise that he’d have riders in his wing capable of
taking watch duties within the next two sevendays take watch burdens
off of the riders of other wings who would run follow-up sweeps now.
He hoped he’d be able to follow through on those promises, and that
his riders wouldn’t be too furious about it. Watch duty was so often
less popular than sweeprides. Well, if he had to sit watches himself
and force wingriders to come report out to him… or put himself at two
places at once if he could without the Weyrleader noticing…

Then he’d gone to the Infirmary to check on his injured riders, and
promise them he’d check on their dragons as well. Then to the Dragon
Infirmary to check on the injured dragons as he promised. To the
Candidate Barracks to grab willing volunteers to scrub uninjured
dragons with injured riders. Back to the Infirmary to report all he
had done for the dragons to his injured wingriders…

By the time he was done checking on his last conscious rider, Master
Healer Jadirah planted herself in front of him. “Are you still here? I
saw you in here two candlemarks ago.”

“And I left to check on my riders’ dragons, and they asked me to tell
them how they were and make sure they were cared for. I was just about
to leave,” he said, a bit of defensiveness in his tone.

“Good. You need to sit down and eat something. You’re pale and shaky,”
she said accusatorially. “I know you care for your riders, but it will
do no good for their morale if you drop.” She poked her finger in his
chest for emphasis.

“Yes ma’am,” he said to her. He understood the logic that if he’d been
trying to be strong for his wingriders all day, falling apart in front
of them would undo all of that work.

“Am I going to hear from my Dining Cavern spies that you’re eating
there within the next half-mark?” she asked.

He paused for a moment, assessing his own condition. He hadn’t stopped
to take a bath yet. (Unlike Kyverth, who had been bathed courtesy of a
helpful Candidate who he’d recruited to take care of N’tari’s dragon
and who had said “and I’ll get your bronze too, Wingleader - I know
you have other things to do.”) His legs ached from both the rigors of
Threadfall and all of the running around.

And there was the other issue. His head pounded from all of the noise
he’d been surrounded by, the screams heard by his regular ears and the
screams heard in his head that his bond with Kyverth and his internal
shields hadn’t blocked out because he didn’t keep them up during
Threadfall as tightly because he used his ability in Fall actively… on
the one hand, it had helped him save Sebeth and K’mai. It had helped
him order Teriveth back to the Weyr when he’d heard the strain in her
mindvoice despite her telling Kyverth she could continue. On the other
hand, all those screams of pain had resonated through him, inside him,
and he had still kept himself open to hear the course of the Fall
throughout the rest of it.

(It was a wonder that he hadn’t been so stunned by it that he hadn’t
been struck by Thread and become a casualty himself, he realized only
after Fall was done. The skill of repeated drills of himself and
Kyverth, of Kyverth’s reflexes, of the blue and green protecting him,
had spared them.)

Once back at the Weyr, he been able to close up mental blocks against
it, sink himself into Kyverth’s presence more deeply and focus on
_his_ dragon and not other dragons. And yet, he hadn’t been able to
totally block everything - whether it was emotional and mental
exhaustion on his end, whether it was that the combined weight of
exactly how many dragons had been injured or their riders had and how
that led to extreme amounts of pain being projected into the air until
it was an ambient miasma. But, hours later he still heard them
bouncing around inside his skull, echoing.

He wondered how the other hears-alls were doing. Both were younger and
newer to their talent. Lanniya at least had the advantage of a gold’s
strong mindvoice and a few years of Impression under her belt. The
young weyrling, though… L’val felt a prickle of responsibility as
though he should go check on A’ris, and yet his skull was throbbing
too much to hold a conversation about strengthening shields when he
couldn’t hold his own.

“My talent is giving me a headache, and I cannot turn it off enough to
cope. I don’t think I can go down there,” he admitted to Jadirah.

She clucked her tongue. “I can arrange a meal of stew sent up to your
room. Rich broth and vegetables, with a biscuit to sop it up and just
enough meat for flavor without there being enough to weigh your
stomach down. Combine that with a painkiller and sleeping draught to
put you out. Do you have any other responsibilities tonight, or are
you done?” Her tone suggested he’d better be done.

“No, I don’t - wait.” He hadn’t reported to the Weyrleader yet with
the status of Cyan Wing, because he’d wanted to get through the
Infirmary visits, and he told Jadirah that.

“I’ll send a note to the Weyrleader telling him that I sent you to bed
with backlash. Problem solved. You’re not the first hard-headed
bronzerider I’ve had to put to bed when they’ve pushed themselves too
far,” she said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Are you good to get
back to your weyr or do you need to sleep in here?”

“That would be too embarrassing,” L’val said in horror.

“All right. Sit down here anyway while I get the prescription put
together. Then I’ll send you back with a friendly escort with your
meds and stew.”

He nodded in agreement and sat down.

By the time Jadirah got back with the prescription mixed up and a
drudge had delivered the stew, L’val was asleep in the chair. She
looked down and clicked her tongue in sympathy. “Poor man. You’ll be
so embarrassed by this. All right, let’s get you back to your weyr…”
She called her daughter in, and she and Kadira managed to get L’val’s
arms thrown over their shoulders and stumble him back to his weyr,
then pulled off his boots and put him into bed, leaving the stew by
the bed.

Some time later, he woke up, devoured the stew and took the
medication. As the Healer had predicted, he was very embarrassed that
he’d fallen asleep and had to be walked back to his weyr, especially
when he couldn’t remember it at all. As the medication was kicking in,
his shields on his gift wavered in and out, and he was startled to
overhear Aluneth be loud. **Something is wrong,** he thought,
wondering if he should check on I’serin. But the call of sleep was too
strong, and he found himself unable to rouse out of bed. It was
another thing he’d check on tomorrow.

Last updated on the June 10th 2025

Welcome to Triad Weyrs!

An Exhausting Day