Things Have Changed [S'cer]

So many things had been happening lately that Arddra felt her head spinning. The excitement of spending time with V'riy and Morith was eclipsed by her unexpected encounter with the dragonrider who forced himself upon her. But she pushed forward knowing her only real purpose now was to start letting go of her anger and hurt at being kidnapped and focus on the one good thing that could happen to her, Impress a Gold. It would make all the suffering she endured worth it.

Then she remembered Isscer, or rather S'cer now since he did Impress a green the year before. Thinking back Arddra realized it was more like 7 or 8 months ago now. Did he feel the same resentment she did at being kidnapped or had he moved on?

With him taking Weyrling lessons she had not seen much of him since his Impression. Did he still want to go back north?  S'kef's revelation on top of V'riy's made her think she should talk to S'cer. It was then she realized she was starting to take sides and before she was mostly focused on doing what was expected of her. Which was expected of her now?  Arddra didn't know but either way she did want to talk with S'cer, it would be nice to talk to somebody who better understood her own feelings regarding being kidnapped.

Not knowing where to find S'cer at this point, Arddra decided to just look for him during mealtimes. Eventually he was likely to come eat right?

Today she did spot him and headed right towards S'cer. "Hello S'cer, how have you been? It has been a long time."

Weyrlinghood seemed to be a state of continual exhaustion. Bathing and oiling now dominated S'cer's chores, as Quelseth seemed to be hitting a bit of a growth spurt and was constantly complaining about itchy hide. How the Weyr kept everyone in oil, well, S'cer didn't presume to know--between dragonets and the huge size of the adults, it was surely some kind of miracle.

With one hand folded in his lap and the other wrapped around an eating utensil, S'cer was, for all intents and purposes, shoveling food into his mouth. He could feel Quelseth stirring, her presence in his mind butting up against his own as she shifted in her sleep. He let out the breath he had been holding when she resumed her post-feeding nap, the knowledge that it would only be a matter of time until he was expected back making the weyrling eye the nearest batch of bubbly pies with a frank expression. Perhaps he could steal a few? But then Quelseth would want a bit of one, and no matter what he told her, she tended to pout over being denied. I guess that won't be happening.

Arddra was met with a confused look for a brief moment, followed by S'cer taking a sip of klah to wash down his mouthful of bread. He flushed red, embarrassed to be caught in a less-than-polite situation, and forced a smile "Arddra, what a surprise." A surprise indeed, he thought to himself, but instead added, "Oh, I'm doing fine. Quelseth keeps me so busy I barely have time to think." Or eat, as the case may be.

"And yourself? Still hoping for a dragon of your very own?" It was meant to be a joke, but it fell flat due to S'cer's tone--dry and just the slightest hint of sarcasm. He was glad for his little green, but that didn't automatically negate the fact that the dragon riders had stolen him away, or make him feel any better about it. It was still there, a wound he would always bear, but Quelseth made it a little more bearable with every day she was in his life. "They aren't so bad--the dragons, that is. Their riders are a bit of a mixed bag."

Taking a seat at his table, with her own tray of food she smiled. It was clear S'cer had been rushing to eat so she hoped he had a little time left for them to talk.

"Congratulations on Impressing," Arddra told him. "I am not surprised Quelseth is keeping you very busy."

Her arm were still sore from helping V'ryn bathe Morith. "You Impressed a green if I recall from the hatching. Better get used to bathing as she will get bigger still."

"I am doing alright, being here is getting easier now. I will always miss home however even if I am starting to understand why we were kidnapped. It still doesn't make it right, they should have searched openly like it was done before the dragon plague. I really do want to Impress, being around dragons more has caused me to truly appreciate the value of being bond to a dragon. To have somebody who is always there for you, to never feel alone anymore."

"Some riders are down right criminal and they don't even care if they are. Fortunately there are some who aren't and I am glad others like us are here. Right now I just hope new leadership comes into play and once it's safe for the dragons to go north, we can all go back home. Those of us who want to anyway."

S'cer slowed down his breakneck pace, taking a bite of a meat roll every now and again and chewing thoughtfully. Apparently he was now supposed to be more sociable now that he was a dragonrider-in-training; he had never been particularly friendly as a Crafter, so he wasn't exactly expecting the conversation to be anything but stilted. "I don't think she'll be very large; she's sick quite often and generally fragile."

He lapsed back into comfortable silence, letting Arddra do the talking, as he steadily worked his way through his meat roll. Old habits died hard, and he couldn't hide the surprised look he shot her midway through her spiel. Talk about over-sharing! It was no secret that he had--was still--vehemently anti-Tsuen and her policies, but if there was one thing S'cer had learned since being at Katila, it was that sometimes it was better to keep your mouth shut.

"I never wanted to Impress, but I didn't have a choice. Quelseth needed me." S'cer was probably the most unwilling dragonrider to ever grace Katila--well, no, that was T'lian--but he couldn't have escaped Impression even if he had wanted to. It did not occur to him that perhaps he had needed Quelseth at that moment as much as she had needed him; a certain degree of selective memory and pride prevented him from realizing that.

"But being a dragonrider isn't all romantic 'my dragon and I' bonding; goldriders especially aren't all they're cracked up to be." Women were often more romantic, so it would make sense that Arddra would have eventually have become more accepting of dragonriders, but that didn't mean S'cer had to endorse her view at all.

"I am sorry to hear she's sick often, hopefully as she grows older she will be more resilient and less fragile. I doubt there could have been anybody better than you to take good care of her. If you ever need help I am willing to help in any way I can." Arddra wasn't sure what she could do to help, she knew a little beastcraft from her father but nothing more than basic first aid for animals. If the more experienced dragon healers here couldn't help Quelseth she certainly couldn't.

As she talked about her feelings regarding being here she could see the surprise on S'cer's face. Did she say anything he found shocking? Arddra didn't think so or was he surprised she was still willing to voice her malcontent? Was she wise in doing so? Arddra often remained silent and timid  around dragonriders she didn't know or trust which really was most of them at this point. Yet she didn't think she had to be like that around somebody she was a candidate with for several turns now before he Impressed.

"Yes, she did and maybe you needed her too." Arddra reassured him. Will there be a gold dragon hatching soon who will need her too? Did she truly need one? Arddra didn't know but what else was she to do? Now that she was kidnapped and stuck in the South she was expected to be a goldrider and she will now do everything in her power to become one. If she couldn't succeed of what use would she be?

"Oh I do understand being a dragonrider isn't all romantic, in fact it is more work than what I did back home." After spending a day helping V'riy clean Morith she felt more tired than she ever did taking care of her home and her spouse. "I am not sure what you mean by 'goldriders aren't all they're cracked up to be'." Arddra wasn't sure what sort of dragonrider S'cer thought goldriders were suppose to be or his guess on her own view of what a goldrider was. She knew she would never be like Tsuen.

It wasn't that he didn't like Arddra; as far as people went, she was tolerable. It was just that S'cer--perhaps due to lack of practice--found himself tuning out. He turned his attention back to his meal, working methodically through his plate, and occasionally made noises where he thought it was appropriate.

The thing with opinions was that once they were formed, they were hard to change. S'cer knew that about as well as anybody, having quite a few of them himself--it had taken Quelseth to change his mind even a little, and even now he still had his doubts. At the mention of goldriders, S'cer laughed, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"If you haven't figured out by now that the goldriders are little more than glorified baby-makers, then you must be more awed by the dragonriders than I thought," S'cer pointed out, a bit crossly. This was the problem with dragonriders; the non-chromatics were supposed to have power, but in the case of golds it was all an elaborately maintained act. Bronzes held the real power, and if Arddra couldn't see that then S'cer wasn't quite sure she was ready to Impress a gold at all.

He glanced down at his plate to find it empty, and took that as a sign that he was done being polite. "I wish you all the best," S'cer said, but it was little more than a formality. "Quelseth is stirring, and if I don't get the itchy patch she's complaining about, I'll never hear the end of it." It was a blatant lie--Quelseth was the least likely to ever be imperious about anything--but it was a good excuse. He gathered up his dishes and went to deposit them with the rest of the dirty, then beat a hasty retreat for the Weyrling Barracks.