Chapter Text
The hammer stopped mid-swing when Journeyman Dakoral noticed who had entered the large canvas tent. He set it lightly on the anvil, right next to the red-hot piece of metal he’d been working on, but his grey-blue eyes remained locked on the unexpected visitor even as he took off his gloves and his mask, wiping the sweat from his brow. Dakoral tucked the strands of sweaty, dirty-blond hair back into his bandana, half expecting the figure in the doorway to disappear or turn out to be someone else.
“Karathael? The fuck?” He walked toward them slowly, still afraid they were a product of his overtired mind. “You a ghost?” His hands went out slowly to pat arms that turned out to be completely solid.
“Yes,” they replied, rolling their eyes. “I’m a ghost.”
Dakoral took a step back to look them over - same old Karathael, same slightly guilty look in their eyes, even squeezing their fingers together like they did when they were nervous. He wrapped his burly arms around them and squeezed as long as they would let him. After a few moments, they pushed him away, gasping for air and smudged with dirt from his apron.
“Oof,” K’thael said with a grin, “you have been working hard. You forget I’m armpit-height.”
“You’re alive,” he said, a tentative hope growing in his eyes. “Karalea said…”
“She said I died at the Weyr. Right.” K’thael’s thoughtful expression broke out into a huge grin. “Come see what really happened. There’s someone I want you to meet.”
The young man blanched, taking a step back. “Faranth, Karathael…” he looked at the wherhide jacket they were wearing. They hadn’t had one like that when he left the Smithcraft Hall. Right there on the shoulder - the blue knots of a High Reaches dragonrider. “Did one of those dragonmen knock you up? Out of wedlock? Is that why your ma told everyone you died?”
“No! Eww!” K’thael made a face, fully aware of dragonrider stereotypes and imagining what he was picturing. “You know me better than that!”
“Well, you were pretty upset when I left,” Dakoral said guiltily. “I thought maybe you’d… I dunno… done something rash.” Even though it wasn’t true, K’thael felt a small hint of satisfaction in seeing him react to the idea. Good. He should feel guilty.
“Pretty upset? I was devastated! We were going to get married! But then… well…. you remember.” The bluerider looked around to make sure no one else was in the area. Even if Southern Boll was one of the larger holds, it wasn’t acceptable for men to prefer other men - and certainly not to admit to it in public. But the journeyman had chosen a life of clandestine love and real passion over a life of public love and no passion. That was his choice to make, although it hurt K’thael deeply. “I may have been heartbroken, but I was still me.”
The journeyman’s shoulders relaxed, but he still looked confused. “Then… what’s going on? Why didn’t you go home when Shenette died? Unless she’s still alive, too.” He gave them a suspicious look.
K’thael’s expression dropped. “No. That was real. The Weyr really was poisoned.”
“Then what? I’m glad you’re not dead, obviously, but why would anyone lie about that?”
“Come here!” K’thael gestured toward the large man, all but pulling him out of the tent with their eyes. “I told you, I have someone for you to meet! You’ll understand as soon as you go outside.”
“Ok, ok,” Dakoral looked back toward the forge, double-checking that nothing dangerous was about to unfold before he ducked out into the bright sun. He sneezed while waiting for his eyes to adjust. “I don’t see anyone.”
“Really? No one?” they said, walking around to the cargo loading area where a dusty blue dragon waited for its rider. “No one at all?”
“What do you-” his eyes went wide as his friend went over and laid their hand on the dragon, glancing again at the rank knots on their shoulder. “Is that your… what do you call it… weyrfriend’s dragon? He lets you ride it?”
“No, you featherhead! There’s no weyrmate! This is my dragon! Sprilth!” The blue lowered his head so K’thael could reach better to scratch his eye ridges. His eyes were faceted, a slowly spinning yellow-orange, looking right at Dakoral.
“Fuck! I thought women-” he cut himself short, seeing the warning glare on K’thael’s face, “I know, but… fuck!” He took a few steps closer to the dragon. He’d never seen one up close before, much less interacted with one. “That’s why your ma said you died! Oh shit… I bet she messed herself right on the stands!”
“No,” K’thael said, shifting their weight awkwardly. “She took Thaeleron and they just… left. During the feast. Told everyone I didn’t Impress at all and was just staying for Shenette.”
“Oh. Wow. That’s…” he took the last few steps to approach them, “that’s shitty.”
“Yeah. Well,” they paused, perking themselves back up, “I got Sprilth out of the deal, and he’s the best dragon on Pern. In spite of his rider.” They grinned, patting the blue’s head.
“Does that make you K’rath now? Oh, no. You couldn’t end in -th. Are you… K’rat!?” his rumble of a laugh echoed off the trees. “K’rat!! Ha! Sorry, I know I shouldn’t laugh, K’rat.” he broke out into a full belly laugh, trying to breathe despite finding the name hilarious.
“K’thael,” they corrected him, though they couldn’t help laughing as well. Faranth, how they’d missed that sound. “I’m K’thael now. K’rat is… not a person.”
After a few glorious moments, the laughter died down and the curious look returned to Dakoral’s eyes. “Does Sprilth talk to you?” Dakoral asked, looking in those big, whirling eyes for signs of intelligence. “Like, in words?”
K’thael laughed again. After a brief moment of confusion, Dakoral’s eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. The bluerider knew that he was hearing a chipper little voice in his head - a slightly more masculine, much more excitable version of their own.
Hi! I’m Sprilth! You’re Dakoral! K’thael told me that you’re a journeyman smith, and that they love you a lot a lot. And if they love you, that means I do, too! Gr’lin took the knife you made for them, but he’ll probably give it back later once he’s convinced that they’re safe to have it again. He called it nasty-looking, but I saw it too, and I think it’s pretty! Very shiny! I like shiny things, and sparkly things, and if that’s what you make, then I like you even more! We should be friends, and we can go flying sometime, just you and me and K’thael…