Underestimate Me

Writers: Devin, Halyonix
Date Posted: 23rd July 2025

Characters: Hesbia, Hellond
Description: Hellond says he'll fix the dragonrider situation...somehow
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 7, day 11 of Turn 12

Hesbia

Notes:
~*~

Hellond watched bronzerider A'len -- carefully, from a distance. His
gaze sought the man out in the Dining Cavern as A'len ate with his
wingmates. Hellond watched as he washed his bronze in the weyrlake. He
made note of which ledge belonged to him. No doubt his weyr was big
and fancy, with a private bath and a warm hearth. Meanwhile Hellond
was crammed in a chilly room with both nieces.

He asked questions, too. He'd found a few drinking buddies who didn't
mind him being holdless and they'd proved to be chatty drunks. Hellond
had learned A'len was the Weyrleader's father. Of all the sharding
luck. As if a bronzerider wasn't untouchable enough, the Weyrleader
certainly wasn't going to let his own father suffer any real
consequences for killing the likes of a holdless man.

Whenever Hellond saw him, there was no hint of guilt in A'len. The man
who'd murdered his brother, walking around like nothing was wrong.
Strutting around like he owned the place, bronzerider confidence and
arrogance rolling off him.

Hatred burned inside Hellond.

He finished another drink. Lost another hand of cards. Worthless. He
was always going to be nothing more than worthless.

Later that evening, he stumbled back to their room. Pushing the door
open, he steeled himself to face Hesbia's ire.

He didn't have to wait long.

"Well, look who finally came back," she said snarkily. "Thank Faranth you came back _before_ I went to bed and not in the middle of the night again."

"Hes," Haseba mewled, hating how her sister was always starting a fight with their uncle. Hesbia shot her a sharp look.

"I do nothing but make your life difficult," Hellond said as he moved toward his bed. "I've heard it all before. Several times." He sat heavily.

"Still hasn't sunk in, I see," Hesbia muttered. Haseba made another mewling sound, begging her not to start a fight. Hesbia rolled her eyes. "So, tell us about your day. Find anything interesting? Make any money?"

"You're obviously baiting me. Does it make you feel better, to take all your anger out on me?" Hellond asked. "Go ahead, then. Tell me what a worthless sack of whershit I am. I'm just a punching bag to you." And he deserved it. He'd dragged his whole family to ruin and death. _Why_ had Hessand insisted on going with him?

Well, when he called her out on it like that...

Feeling foolish, Hesbia crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine, I'll stop. But you're not getting an apology from me," she said sullenly. She eyed him with simmering anger. "What did you do today?" she asked again, with less heat but still pointed enough.

Hellond hesitated. "I saw him again. That bronzerider." No need to say which one.

His niece's expression sharpened. "Where? What was he doing?"

"Eating diner with his wingmates." Picturing that man's face, going about his life like nothing was wrong, made his blood boil. "He really doesn't sharding _care_."

"None of them do. They rescued us, offered to put us up if we took up the menial work they don't want to do, and we get to watch while they party every night. I'm up before dawn getting their breakfast ready and not a one of them says 'thank you'!"

"They're not all bad." Some of his drinking buddies were riders. "But some of them . . . and the whole thing is set up with dragonriders at the top. If we killed one of them, we'd be left out for Thread. But when one of _them_ kills one of _us_ . . ."

"Spare me," Hesbia muttered. "My friends pointed that out already too." Okay, they weren't really her friends but they weren't her outright enemies either. "There _has_ to be some sort of justice system! They can't just...they can't just _get away with it_!" She stamped her foot angrily. "I'm...I'm going to talk to that Weyrwoman woman or whatever or her rank is. _She'd_ know, right?"

Hellond was quiet for a long moment, staring at the floor. "I'll take care of it." He looked up, his gaze moving between Hesbia and Haseba. "I know I haven't been much use, and I've been a terrible uncle. I can't bring your dad back, but . . . I'll fix this."

"How?" his niece practically demanded to know. How was _he_, the family drunkard, going to handle _anything_?

"Don't worry about that."

Hesbia rolled her eyes. There was no way he was _actually_ going to do anything. "Sure. Do whatever," she said. "I'm going to bed. I've got shift in the morning."

His niece could doubt him all she wanted, but soon enough she'd see what he was capable of.

Last updated on the July 29th 2025

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Underestimate Me