13.Jan.19, 11:50 PM
“Well, regardless of Syrendryth’s intent, he’s certainly won Miri’s devotion for life. He gave her a fish,” F’drel said with a slight eyeroll. Miri was so ridiculously easy to please. All a dragon or person had to do was not be actively mean to her to be her friend — if they were slightly nice to her, she loved them forever. Perhaps it was the universe’s way of evening out his own reluctance to trust people by pairing him with the friendliest dragon on Pern (or close enough to it, anyway).
It was worth remembering as well that T’ryn and his bronze were angling for Wingleader. Men could do stupid things for power and titles, after all. F’drel hadn’t grown up in a Lord’s home without learning that much. He really hoped T’ryn didn’t become like that — he seemed decent enough for a bronzerider. Time would tell, he supposed.
He took a sip of klah only for Mylorah to start talking again, and it was by sheer luck that F’drel managed not to choke or spit klah all over Mylorah — instead he only made a slightly inelegant noise. Fucking cheeky girl. “The next time Casa throws a party I will be keeping myself far, far away from it, thank you,” he said quietly, putting his mug down on the table — though he kept a careful hold on it, “and I thought we just had a conversation about why talking about your personal business in the dining cavern was a poor choice if you have any desire for privacy? Not that there’s anything to talk about, but it’s the principle of it.” Really, there wasn’t. At all. And F’drel liked it as it was, thank you very much.
He was still a bit hung up trying to figure out if Mylorah had actually been implying he should hook up with her brother or it was just a convenient segue into asking about R’dal. With Mylorah, F’drel had a feeling it could be either — or, quite likely, both. The whole topic was not something to be talked about in public, at the very least, even if the answer truly was ‘nothing is going on’ — no one would believe it, especially if someone heard him protesting that nothing was going on. No one ever accepted that as the truth, tragically. They’d rather believe something false but more entertaining for them. Stupid. And F’drel had no intention of becoming fodder for the rumor mill. At least the drama nearby was almost certainly more interesting than anything about him someone may overhear in the dining cavern. Thank fuck.
It was worth remembering as well that T’ryn and his bronze were angling for Wingleader. Men could do stupid things for power and titles, after all. F’drel hadn’t grown up in a Lord’s home without learning that much. He really hoped T’ryn didn’t become like that — he seemed decent enough for a bronzerider. Time would tell, he supposed.
He took a sip of klah only for Mylorah to start talking again, and it was by sheer luck that F’drel managed not to choke or spit klah all over Mylorah — instead he only made a slightly inelegant noise. Fucking cheeky girl. “The next time Casa throws a party I will be keeping myself far, far away from it, thank you,” he said quietly, putting his mug down on the table — though he kept a careful hold on it, “and I thought we just had a conversation about why talking about your personal business in the dining cavern was a poor choice if you have any desire for privacy? Not that there’s anything to talk about, but it’s the principle of it.” Really, there wasn’t. At all. And F’drel liked it as it was, thank you very much.
He was still a bit hung up trying to figure out if Mylorah had actually been implying he should hook up with her brother or it was just a convenient segue into asking about R’dal. With Mylorah, F’drel had a feeling it could be either — or, quite likely, both. The whole topic was not something to be talked about in public, at the very least, even if the answer truly was ‘nothing is going on’ — no one would believe it, especially if someone heard him protesting that nothing was going on. No one ever accepted that as the truth, tragically. They’d rather believe something false but more entertaining for them. Stupid. And F’drel had no intention of becoming fodder for the rumor mill. At least the drama nearby was almost certainly more interesting than anything about him someone may overhear in the dining cavern. Thank fuck.