The Candidatemaster had asked to meet him in his office, and K'ell didn't understand why, exactly. Didn't he have other rather more important things to do, such as caring for his young dragonet? He wasn't unwilling by any means - Gr'del had held his respect for the way he'd treated them throughout the time he'd stood as a candidate. But K'ell wasn't a candidate anymore. Still, Eskharath was asleep and maybe Gr'del wanted to congratulate him, since K'ell hadn't had any family members there to witness his triumph. That actually... would be really nice, if that were so. He felt himself relax a little, certain that his behavior had been above reproach at the Hatching. Surely there was no reason he'd need to be personally pulled aside for it. It was probably some little thing, some formality that he had not observed. Something that wouldn't take much of his time. Or so he hoped, drumming his fingers on the chair opposite Gr'del's as he sat waiting for the man.

Gr'del was somber when he entered the room. His expression was surprisingly stoic, with slightly pursed lips, and a brow knit with concern. While the Candidatemaster was known to be serious about his duties, there was a heavy weight about him that was palpable. "K'ell," he greeted the young weyrling by his preferred name as supplied by Siriath.

He did not sit down. He didn't make himself comfortable. "Thank you for coming. " Oh shards and shells. This was perhaps the worst part about being a Candidatemaster. He still was reeling from everything that had happened. Down one Candidate--a good boy, a funny boy, a lad who certainly had his heart in the right place--and now he had to tell his boyfriend who.... who didn't know. On the morning of his Impression. Oh Faranth help him.

"I've got some terrible news, son. And I need you to steel yourself for it." What else was he supposed to say? He couldn't and wouldn't risk the new hatchling and yet... He also couldn't keep the weyrling in the dark.

"Father sent one of his letters again?" K'ell asked, although... the level of severity didn't seem to fit with the expression on Gr'del's face. K'ell was frankly confused as to why he was here, and what the man needed to tell him. But he did as he was bade. "All right, what is it, then?" Suddenly all of the possibilities went whirling through his head. What could have happened? Was he disowned? That was a laugh. As if he'd have been surprised. But... whatever it was, he wanted to assure Gr'del that he wasn't going to crumble upon being told it.

Gr'del sighed and gave a shake of his head. "No. Not that. It hasn't anything to do with your Father. It's Shinnikan." Gr'del felt his own throat tighten, that lump enter. The poor man hadn't a chance. He still saw him lying there, still saw him bloodied and shredded on the Sands. To have the bronze stand upon him like he'd been nothing... Oh, his heart broke. The man loved his Candidates, or at least a vast majority of them. Even the ones he couldn't quite stand were still tolerated and cared for. They were each his responsibility and though hatchlings were known to maul and maim... It wasn't easy to watch them struck down. And that poor green! It was all senseless.... all terrible.... Taking a breath, looking down at K'ell, he finally dropped the news. "He's dead, K'ell. He...He died on the Sands."

A silence spread between them so complete that they might have heard a pin drop. Out of that silence... "What?" Shinn? Dead? That... that couldn't be. "He was right behind me. He was... right." Behind him. Surely that couldn't be so. Surely... surely this wasn't real. That. He'd. They'd. He'd been talking with him moments before he'd Impressed- oh. And then. He'd walked past him. Hadn't said a single word. Not a backward glance. That was the goodbye that Shinnikan had gotten. "... Dead?" The boy had gone pale, his knuckles as his hands gripped the arms of the chair white.

Gr'del said nothing as the boy processed the information given him. Siriath was listening to them both, but also keeping tabs on the sleeping Eskharath. The bond between rider and dragon was still new, and hatchlings could spook at any given moment. "I'm sorry K'ell," he spoke, words thick with emotion. "It was quick. There was nothing anyone could have done." He wouldn't tell him it happened mere moments after the boy had Impressed. He would spare him the details unless pressed.

Everything fell away. Everything but the still new bond to his dragon. K'ell stood up abruptly, speaking in a voice suddenly choked with suppressed tears. "... I. I need to be alone." That morning. He'd... it had been. He hadn't. They hadn't. ... But he'd loved him. He'd loved him, for all of that. He hadn't. Faranth, he hadn't gotten to say goodbye! "... Where is he?" he asked, knowing that there couldn't be an answer that would satisfy him.

Gr'del stared at the boy. "He's... with his brother and sister right now. They're... preparing to take him Between. If... If you'd like to say goodbye, to see him off--" This time his words did die, even as tears threatened to swell up once more. Such a fine young man, torn down so young. Some might not find it an honorable death, but he'd died standing in hopes to defend Pern from an even greater threat

His heart was being crushed in his chest. The ice crept in, the one thing that had protected him for so long from making close, dangerous friendships. But Shinnikan had been different. Like a fool, K'ell had fallen in love. He'd let himself trust that they'd... have Turns together. Turns. Now that hope lay shattered across the sands. "... I..." Trembling, white as shell, K'ell clamped down on himself so hard that he could hardly think.

Gr'del didn't hesitate. He reached out and pulled the young weyrling into his arms and hugged him. He didn't have to go through it alone. He had his dragon, certainly, but he also wasn't alone. He had Gr'del. He had W'tarl. He had the Weyr. And yet.... The brownrider knew that the one person he didn't have anymore was Shinnikan. "You don't have to make a decision now," he told him quietly. "We're here for you." The Weyr was also there for him. for all that it had, perhaps, failed Shinnikan. While it was well understood it could happen... that didn't make it any easier when it did. Riders would have to deal with death often now that Thread returned, but again, that didn't mean that they couldn't still feel it, couldn't still grieve, or mourn. Some might think a rider needed to be hardened to it--but not Gr'del.

"I need to say goodbye," he said at last. For that was what K'ell had failed to do. Oh, he had failed his Shinnikan so badly! To have walked away without a word - who could forgive such callousness? He had treated Shinn as though he... wasn't even there. K'ell could feel his heart breaking all over again. He'd never known pain like this before. Not ever. "I need... to... tell him." Even though Shinn wouldn't be listening anymore. He started to cry, and all of a sudden, it didn't seem like he could stop.