Knowledgeable hands worked the strings of his guitar, head bowed slightly as Y'vel sang a song about a man who had died Turns past. Aiden, who had tempted him from Haven, his father's own Hold. Who had died at sea, never to be found again. His love, the man whose heart he'd broken when he'd felt abandoned. He'd been wrong, so wrong... and Aiden, his dearest, sweet Aiden, had paid the price for his sins. He let grief close about him for a moment, for it had been on a morning like this one that he had heard the news.

Oh what a fool he had been. He deserved nothing less than to lose the only man he had ever loved. The harper who had lit up his life, and filled it with song. Without him, he would never have become the man he was today. My Yavelan, it was not your fault. You loved him so, and were only young and shortsighted. How could you have known he would have died on that ship? Desrath said, leaning down to croon at him. She was small enough to fit into his weyr, and preferred to move about it, to be near him. He smiled, but it was a sad, strained thing. "He didn't deserve to die."

And no one would ever have thought you wished it so, she said, scolding him gently.