[prp] Each Time You Hear a Sad Guitar [Rixth/Mic]

[Sweet Symmetry]

Smerdle

This thread idea wouldn't leave me alone, so I had to write it! PRP during the Feast- hopefully not a bother, and no pressure to answer! =]

Her rider had wandered off to carouse where it was warm, and Mictecath could not blame her. But there was a small ache in her heart that could not be filled- not by her rider’s loving touch, not by the warmth of people dancing, nor the food stacked high. Not by her mama, or papa, not by any rider who meant well, or any sibling...

It was the pain of loss, and one she ought not by any rights be experiencing. It threatened to drag her into a more mournful state, and that was just unacceptable. The Weyr had suffered loss and heartache during their hatching, and she would not allow herself to succumb when her strength was needed to guide her siblings into a better, brighter future.

And yet, still… Still, even with all of her forced brilliance, she felt dull. The weyrbowl was alive with the thrum of music and the gathering of dragons and people alike, but somehow it felt distant. All Mictecath could hear was the faint strumming of a sad guitar. It echoed, a melancholic melody that both haunted and captivated her.

Uncle Rixth? She didn’t want him to leave. It was unacceptable that he wanted to leave. It hurt too much to bear thinking about… so why was it that her feet were leading her towards him? Why was it that, when he was going to break her heart, she needed him the most?

She stopped before the bronze, staring up at him, eyes filled with the pained hues of grey and yellow. Must you… must you leave, tomorrow? Slowly, she rested her head against his leg, damming up the well of emotions that threatened to spill out. Family was meant to stay. That was what they did. They were there for each other. Loyal to each other. Fought for each other.

I don’t want you to go.

Mictecath felt Nyara’s mental touch against hers, and breathed a soft, sad sigh against bronze hide. She sensed that her rider was already trying to find her, pulling away from her dance to come and comfort her, but it was not something that could be solved with a hug, or blustery confidence...

This was something only Rixth could soothe. This was a crack only he could mend.

Quote:

Nyaranau [HR] - 19 - she/her/hers - Weyrling of Gold Mictecath

 

[Smerdle]

He had been feeling... well... not exactly happy again, but well enough to attend the feast. The bronze arrived late and kept to himself while Thren mingled, content to watch as his rider made the most of their last night here. He was nearly dozing when he felt her mental nudge, and Rixth sat up very straight in response, his tail curling forward to encircle Mictecath's tiny form. Her very existence sparked such a mix of pride and awe in him that he could do little more than stare at first, eyes whirling blue-purple even through her solemn approach. So fierce and loving. So devoted to family... even her Uncle Rixth. He didn't deserve her.

Believe me, dearest Mictecath, if I had a choice, I would stay. My rider has been missing his work, and I... Even though your mother might stand up for me, after this morning I don't think I'm going to be welcome at High Reaches for a while. His eyes grew paler the longer her distress washed over him, especially when he thought of that bronze. Had he been less overwhelmed during the hatching, he might have throttled that Western idiot. Rixth reached over and gently squeezed the gold between his forearm and palm.

I don't want to go either, but I will always be a thought away.

The bronze sighed. He probably should have started with the reassurances and left the explanations for another time.

Sweet Symmetry

 

[Sweet Symmetry]

Smerdle

If he had a choice... Mictecath’s mind worked over the words, frantic and furious and sorrowful. Her hearts desired nothing more than to scream- not at him, but at the world. A way to unleash all the fury of having her family taken away from her.

His rider… find his rider, NyaraMine. Find him and tell him to stay. The antsy scrabbling in the back of Nyaranau’s mind gave her pause, and she cast her gaze about for Thren. It was hard not to feel the entirety of Mic’s anguish and heartbreak, their bond so fresh and new. Nyara focused, breathing to regain control as she employed rational thinking to help. I’ll look, dearest light of my life, but I can’t promise you I can persuade him. It’s not in my power to do so.

Eveleth. Her Grandmama would let Rixth stay… And yet…

And yet, Mictecath knew she was fooling nobody, not even herself. She knew her uncle Rixth’s hearts longed for both his rider’s happiness, and his family’s happiness. He was a dragon torn, trapped in two different worlds, and his own problems had to be faced alone. She hated feeling useless. Hated it. She was a Queen born, she ought to be allowed to help, to change people’s hearts, sway them, persuade them, make them see reason…

The frantic whirl of her mind grew easier with his tender words, and she lay atop his paw, pressing herself more firmly against his soft, warm hide. Nyara was a steadying mental presence in the background, wrapping up her very being in effervescent love and affection. I would tell them, Uncle. I would tell them all to accept you. You will always be welcome in my hearts. She couldn’t accept it. They would awake tomorrow, and part of their family would be gone.

Will you come? Whenever I ask you? Will you come back to us?  

[Smerdle]

Thren had made a point of keeping to himself since well before the hatching, which might have made him difficult to find had Rixth not subtly shared a mental image of the man and his attire tonight with Mictecath. Yes, it would technically be a third-hand likeness by the time it reached Nyaranau, but at least it would be a place to start.

Image sent, Rixth paused to both think on a response for a minute and to enjoy the young dragon's proximity while he could. He had never been a particularly crafty dragon, and he didn't want to promise something he couldn't deliver.

Give me... us... a few months. Let's say four. Enough time for things to quiet down around here, for the sting of Aureliath's passing to dull, but not so much time that he would miss Mictecath's youth. Their youths. All of his children.

The bronze quickly pushed his traitorous thought away, replacing visions of responsibility and upstanding parenthood with more uncle-appropriate fun and games.

Just four short months and then we'll be back. Before that... even all the acceptance you could muster might not be enough. He added his love to her rider's hoping that it would be enough. In the meantime, I want to hear about everything. All the dragons you meet, the things you learn. Even if you think they're boring.

Sweet Symmetry

 

[Sweet Symmetry]

Smerdle

An image of Thren swam to the forefront of her mind; find him, Mic urged, with a surprising amount of force despite her tender age. Nyara nodded, scanning crowds of weyrfolk, riders and guests that now blurred into a mass of dancing, cheery folk. Her heart ached with Mic’s melancholy, but she fixed the smile on her face, expertly weaving and pushing her way through the crowd as she tried to find Rixth’s rider.

Four months… Mic repeated back to him, as if those two words held all the promise she ever needed. Four months. It wouldn’t be so bad. It wouldn’t be so long. I’ll count down the days. I’ll ask my rider to keep track, too. I won’t forget you. If dragons could weep, maybe Mic would. Her eyes still held a grey tinge, swirling yellow with unshed anxiety and fear.

“Thren?” Nyara spoke up, spotting a man who looked like the blobby mass that Mic had forced her to focus on. She paused as she tapped him on the shoulder, mind scrabbling for words that normally would have come so easily to the bubbly young woman. Convince him to stay? Share her dragon’s pain? “I’m Mictecath’s rider, Nyaranau. Mic’s very attached to Rixth, and might be trying to persuade him to stay.” Her grin was bright, her tone full of good humour, and yet still her heart ached with the heaviness of her dragon’s despair. No- this kind of thing was private and personal. Surely Rixth and Thren would have matters to sort between themselves, and Nyara didn’t want to be placed in the middle of that if she could help themselves.

It’ll be like a long-distance friend… Humans send letters to each other, right? I can send you the thoughts and things that I see… And we won’t be apart. Not really. Her mindvoice grew a little stronger, a little more confident. Four months. It wouldn’t be so bad. Then Rixth could come back and live with them all, and they would be a happy family. A whole family.  

[Smerdle]

Thren might not have wanted to be stuck at High Reaches for any longer than he had been already, but he wasn't one to sulk at a party either, no matter how he felt about those who were throwing it. Every one of the people here was someone who might one day be in a position to further his goals, so he resigned himself to laughing and toasting and praising the fresh crop of riders and their hatchlings, all while itching to be gone.

Amidst the handshakes and respectful groveling, the sudden appearance of one weyrling in particular had Thren falling momentarily silent following her introduction. Of course he knew whose rider she was. While he had no intention of returning to weyr life, he hadn't forgotten the expectations and hierarchies within. This was a very important young lady.

He nodded at the newly-made goldrider, his smile a slightly more subdued version of his usual grin. "Yes, I'm Thren. Well met. I'm... um... glad that your dragon has such a strong sense of loyalty. Your Mictecath will make an excellent leader, I'm sure of it. I can also assure you and her that we will be back, but we really can't stay right now." The last bit of his sentence was uttered in an apologetic half-whisper, as if their dragons weren't listening in on their every word, no matter how quiet he might be. "We have lots of people who have been waiting on us for far too long already. I'm sorry."

Rixth looked down at the shiny little hatchling huddled against his side and gently squeezed her once more.

I will most certainly never forget you or your siblings either. And for every new thing you show me, I'll show you something from outside the weyr, so you can learn more about the places you're going to protect one day.

Sweet Symmetry

 

[Sweet Symmetry]

Smerdle

Not sure if this feels like an end soon? The newer thread seems better at reflecting what's happening- this feels like rehashing old stuff, unless you still want to explore something? =] Let me know if you wanna keep it going, at any rate. ^^

“I…” She began, not sure what to say. Thanks for having your dragon come to stay during Fianth’s flight? I got to meet the love of my life and now we’re partners forever. That seemed a bit… much. But Thren also seemed a bit… discomforted. Maybe he didn’t really like the Weyr that much? There had to be a good reason for him to be unaffiliated, surely? “... am really grateful- and privileged- I was able to stand for the clutch today. Thank you.” Thank you for putting up with being Weyrbound during that time. Thank you for trying… ah, it was hard to find words sometimes.

Her smile grew as he spoke of Mic, and she nodded. “She has such a wonderful sense of family, and her loyalty knows no bounds. I hope we will both do the Weyr proud.” That was what people were supposed to say, right? It didn’t feel right. It did not feel like her. She nodded as he seemed to apologise, not quite able to hide the flicker of disappointment, the sadness in her brown eyes. “It’s fine. I understand. Mictecath might not right now, but I’ll be here to help her through it. Maybe one day…” She trailed off again, shrugging. No. She really shouldn’t be getting involved. This was not her fight, not her business. What Thren and Rixth did was their concern.

Rixth… The gold unleashed a desperate creel, pressing herself ever closer as he squeezed her. Please. Please show me all of the world that you see. And I will show you my siblings, every day. So you don’t miss out. So you’ll always be here in our hearts.

Nyara looked away briefly, fighting the stabbing ache that rushed through their bond, a surge of misery and despair. Then she turned her attention back to Thren, nodding slightly. “I think she needs me. I have to go, but it was good to meet you. Good luck.” She whispered, bowing her head.