Off on the Wrong Foot

Writers: Estelle, Halyonix
Date Posted: 16th December 2025

Characters: D'miran, Hesbia
Description: D'miran and Hesbia talk and it doesn't go well
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 12, day 17 of Turn 12

Hesbia

Notes:
~*~

Hesbia followed Oriveth out to the feeding area, yawning. Though she had gotten used to waking up early for her shifts in the kitchens, she was just so _tired_ from caring for Oriveth that even though she was waking up later, she still felt like she wasn't getting enough sleep.

}: Good morning, Elamith, :{ Oriveth greeted his blue brother as they approached. Hesbia tried to remember the rider's name. D'mon? D'mer? Screw it, who cared. He wasn't one of the Holdless so it didn't really matter if she learned his name or not. He'd probably judge her all the same.

}: Good morning, Oriveth! Come and join us, :{ Elamith replied cheerfully, moving over to make room beside the table where his rider was slicing chunks of meat. He had a vague memory of something his rider had told him about being cautious around certain other hatchlings, but he was too excited about the day ahead to remember which, or why it was important. }: I am very hungry, but there's plenty here for both of us. :{

D'miran glanced up from his work, and his eyes narrowed when he saw which pair his dragon was talking to. Sharing a feeding station - and knives - with one of those holdless people was hardly a welcome prospect. At least it was a girl...but the one with a blue dragon. What was that about? However, it was too late now to tell her to find another place, so he gave her a curt nod and pointedly returned to his work.

}: Excellent, :{ Oriveth said as he sat down and looked up expectantly at Hesbia, who rolled up her sleeves and began to work on cutting up his food.

She glanced over at the other weyrling, who was saying nothing, no surprise, but she noticed something. "You want to cut away from your body, not towards. Less chance you stab yourself," she remarked.

His hand stilled and he looked up, dark brows drawn low in irritation. Who did she think she was, telling a holder what to do? "Thanks for the advice. Did you learn that cutting purses?"

"No," she said with pointed exaggeration as her defensiveness flared. "I learned it from when my father would bring home a wherry and someone had to skin and cook it. That someone was me."

D'miran shrugged. "Good for you. We had drudges for that." He started chopping again, though more cautiously than before. It wouldn't do to gash his thumb at this particular moment. "And the Weyr does too, so you won't need to...liberate livestock from other people's land any more."

"Oh, trust me, I'm well aware of all of the amenities that the Weyr has," Hesbia said sarcastically. "Hot water, three meals a day, comfortable beds, not wondering if someone is going to stab you in the back while you're sleeping. Good stuff, the Weyr has."

"So it does. A lot like my home." D'miran gave in to Elamith's insistent pleading and set down his knife, carefully out of reach of the other weyrling. He began feeding pieces to the hungry blue. "Funny what a good life you can have, when you work hard and abide by the law."

"Funny what a good life you can have whenever you aren't a kid and your uncle gets your family kicked out of the Hold because _he_ broke the law and _you_ got caught in the crossfire of it," Hesbia shot back hotly. She glared at D'miran, ignoring the quiet hungry creel that came from Oriveth for a long moment.

He glanced up from Elamith, a confused frown turning to suspicion. "Why'd your whole family get made holdless if it was your uncle that got in trouble, then? No holder with any sense turns out hard workers."

A lump formed in Hesbia's chest, moved up her throat. "Because my father wasn't going to let his brother die out there alone, okay?! So we all went! All fecking four of us but now there's only me and my sister left!" She slammed the knife, blade first, into the chopping block. "Happy?!"

D'miran startled as the knife went in, and was immediately ashamed, not just for visibly flinching. If what she said was true, perhaps it hadn't been her fault that she'd been made holdless...not at first. Who knew what that life had taught her since? Stealing would be the least of it.

Still, he sensed Elamith's worry at their rising emotions, and he could acknowledge he'd been at least partly in the wrong. "Sorry. Your parents shouldn't have done that to you and your sister. It's no kind of life for young girls."

"Yeah, no shit," Hesbia agreed, her voice dripping with sarcasm and venom. "A tunnelsnake bit my mother. A dragonrider pushed my father into the cave flood. It's been a wonderful life, trust me." At that, Oriveth let out a small, soothing sound as he put a paw on his rider's knee. Hesbia immediately felt all of her anger drain away. It had been an awful life -- until Oriveth.

But Elamith's concern was forgotten, as D'miran stared at her, incredulous. "A _dragonrider_ killed your father? That's impossible. Dragonriders never harm anyone, except in self-defense." His disbelief rapidly shifted to disgust. "Your father must have attacked the rider. A hero who came to save his life!"

"Hero, my ass," Hesbia growled. "_He_ didn't want to be there. He told us he was only there because the Weyrwoman told him to do it. He would have gladly let us drown, I know it. He pushed my father, I saw it! My da did nothing wrong, he was just trying to get us out of the caves, and that ugly bronzerider told us not to touch him, and then he pushed my father into the flood. I'm glad he's dead!" The moment she shouted that, she knew she had spoken too far. It was too close to the truth on many levels and it would only get her in trouble but she wasn't going to lie -- she was glad that A'len was dead!

D'miran was staring at her in horrified amazement. "How can you say that? The loss of any dragonrider is a tragedy, and still more so when it's a bronzerider, a leader." Perhaps fortunately for Hesbia, he assumed she was talking about a casualty of Fall. "Whoever he was, he gave his life for people like you."

"No, he didn't!" she snapped back at him. "He would have gladly left us out for Thread, I know it." Incensed, Hesbia stabbed the knife into the block again. "I'm glad he's dead," she repeated with conviction. She grabbed a few bloody scraps, tossed them into a bucket, and snarled, "Come on, Oriveth. I'll feed you somewhere else. This dimglow obviously doesn't understand what it's like to be us and I don't have the quills to teach him."

Oriveth made a deflated crooning sound, obviously disliking that his food was be interrupted and his rider was unhappy.

Elamith chirped in disappointment as his blue clutchmate was led away. He'd been enjoying sharing a meal with his friend, but now his rider's thoughts were agitated, and what was more, he was still hungry. He nudged D'miran's leg with his head, partly to comfort him and in part to remind him that he was still here.

"Sorry, Elamith." D'miran took up the knife and hastily began work on the carcass again. "Don't worry, I don't believe there's any dead dragonrider at all. She probably made the whole story up."

}: You think that Oriveth's rider is lying? :{

The blue weyrling glanced after her. "I...don't know." But when he resumed chopping, he took care to cut away from himself.

Last updated on the December 20th 2025

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Off on the Wrong Foot