[PRP] Rocks and Dirt [Ionan/Torin]

[Smerdle]

"Oh! I knew a lady
As blue as the sea
She couldn't be seen
With a man such as me"

Torin was pretty sure he had finally found it. The spot that boasted the most perfect outdoor acoustics at High Reaches Weyr. His voice was amplified flawlessly, his clean, melodic tenor ringing out over the rocks without any distortion to speak of. This place was fairly secluded, which made it all the more attractive to the candidate. It might have been difficult for some to believe, but there were times when Torin preferred to be alone. He hopped up on a rock and continued serenading no one.

"We were lovers in secret
Patience was key
When her da finally caught us
She shouted a plea..."

He drew in a deep breath, a smile on his lips as he prepared to belt the chorus of My Blue Lady as loudly and bawdily as it was meant to be belted. But then, he stopped. He turned sharply. He wasn't alone.

 

[Thaliawen]

"Don't stop," Ionan came out from behind the rock where he'd been sitting. "You're really good, as good as the weyrharper." He gave the older boy a smile, surprised to have found someone--inadvertently as it were-- as talented as Torin.

He'd been avoiding his brother. T'rel had been picking at him again. He was too thin, not eating enough, he'd ought to select a craft, just in case Impression didn't happen right away... Older brothers were such pains. They always thought they knew what was best.

T'rel probably did know, but Ionan still resented the advice. "How does the song end?" he asked. "Finish, won't you?"  

[Smerdle]

Torin made a point of not being embarrassed if he could help it, but he still had a healthy sense of self preservation that had only grown more keen over the past several years. Out here, anything could happen to him and no one would be the wiser. He swallowed as he turned, drawing his left hand closer to his body before forcibly shrugging off his discomfort once he saw Ionan for himself. In less than a second he was smiling again. This was only a child, a tall, handsome child, but no one to fear.

"As good as the weyrharper? I'm flattered. But I don't think any amount of flattery would be enough to get me to finish that particular song at this particular moment. Unless you're carrying around quite a bit of Benden red and are willing to share." He hopped off of his rock and bowed deeply, the flouncy front of his shirt dipping forward as he did so. "Torin. A pleasure."

Thaliawen

 

[Thaliawen]

“I think you are,” Ionan insisted. He hadn’t meant to seem as if he was just flattering the boy. “You’re really talented. My brothers were trained as apprentices by harpers, but I never tried a craft before—but I can still tell when someone’s good!”

He hesitated. No, why would he have wine? “I think my older sisters would skin me alive if I carried around wine,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m Ionan. Nice to meet you.”  

[Smerdle]

He didn't bother denying his talent a second time, having only done so at first to seem humble.

"Thank you, Ionan. I only mention the wine because that song is exceedingly inappropriate in sober company. Your older sisters would skin me alive if you came home humming it. And I like my skin." He smiled, all closed-lipped smarm.

"So, what are you doing all the way out here today?" It was admittedly a lovely spot, in addition to being an ideal mini-amphitheater, but he couldn't immediately see any other use for the place.

Thaliawen

 

[Thaliawen]

Oh, it was that sort of song? "Probably," he agreed, "My oldest sister helps out with the weyrlings, and she's been bossier than ever since she got the position." He rolled his eyes. "She's not really so bad," he added, in afterthought.

"To get away from my brothers," he offered. "Tass' been a candidate for turns and turns, and T'rel impressed a few turns ago--so they think they know everything about Impressing. They keep giving me advice and I already hear enough from Gr'del." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Did you come here just to sing?"  

[Smerdle]

He took a small amount of pity on the boy, moving past talk of not-so-bad sisters and back to... himself.

Of course.

"I did. Not that I meant to, I was simply walking and humming—as one does—and I stopped when I sounded particularly beautiful." Torin's attention shifted slightly, clearly focusing on the subject of Impression. "Thankfully I have no particular advice regarding dragons, so you won't be harassed on protocol by me. I've only stood for a single hatching, and my dragon was obviously not present."

He paused. "Do you have a color preference as so many here seem to?"

Thaliawen

 

[Thaliawen]

“You are a good singer.” The boy admired, when Torin spoke of finding the best place to sing. “I can’t sing that well.”

“Good,” Ionan smiled. Then Torin wouldn’t end up being a nag like his brothers. “Hum. A preference? I think just a dragon would be wonderful. I know a lot of boys want a brown or bronze, but I don’t know if it matters so much to me. What about you?”  

[Smerdle]

"The same. Color doesn't matter, so long as they are suitably stunning." He heard that the dragon that chose you was always the loveliest in your eyes, but he had his doubts. Some of the beasts were positively slovenly, at least as far as he was concerned. Torin smiled, half to himself.

"I don't know that I want the responsibility that comes with the shinier sorts," he continued. "I'm not one for expectations." They had always been his brother's problem.

"How about... if one of us Impresses and the other doesn't, I'll teach you that song to lift our spirits?" To be honest, he hadn't needed much in the way of spirit lifting last time. The actual spirits had done that for him. If there was one thing weyrfolk did better than his people back home, it was party.  

[Thaliawen]

"I think every dragon is stunning," Ionan admitted, with a shrug. "My mom's got this green, and she's beautiful. But dad's got a brown. Most of my family's got greens, so I figure I'll get one too, but my oldest brother has a bronze." He gave another shrug. Who knew? No one knew what color they would get till they Impressed, and no one he knew seemed to care what color they'd Impressed once they had. Their dragon was always the best dragon.

"I think being Weyrleader would be the worst," Ionan said, and grinned. "All that work, keeping track of everyone and knowing how everyone's doing in their wings. Maybe a wingleader, though. But it would be awful if I ended up leading a wing one of my siblings is in. They'd never stop teasing me."

He paused, clearly considering the suggestion. "Alright," he agreed. "We might need it. Last time, my brother cried."  

[Smerdle]

Torin wasn't going to argue the relative beauty of individual dragons with Ionan, he simply made a mental note not to air his feelings about the uglier specimens he'd seen to the boy, the ones with needlessly bulbous eyes and nibbly little teeth. Ew.

"I saw quite a number of the unImpressed crying last time," he continued with a knowing nod. "But I am of the opinion that patience is key in matters such as these. Pern has a need, and we are here. Eventually the vast majority will be tapped to serve, if we are willing. Some will even if they are unwilling." Torin shrugged. He had an agenda, and though he was anxious to see his plans through, he was not in a hurry to do so. Yet.

He smiled. "It sounds like your whole family is nothing but dragon riders."

Thaliawen

 

[Thaliawen]

"I'm not very good at being patient," Ionan admitted, and shrugged. "My sisters are always telling me to be patient, but it's hard to wait. I guess it'll be worth it, having a dragon."

He paused at Torin's words and nodded slowly. "Yeah," he said. "That's why I've got to Impress so badly. I don't know what they'll do if I don't Impress, my parents already made my bedroom a library or something, so it's not like I could live with them anymore. I don't think they'd want me." He wanted to make them proud, was becoming a dragonrider the only way? "I hope we both Impress."