Logs:Progressing
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| RL Date: 23 May, 2014 |
| Who: H'kon |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: H'kon is a wingsecond. Arekoth is a wingsecond's dragon. There's also more. |
| Where: High Reaches Weyr; Outlying Nabol Territory |
| When: Day 22-27, month 10, Turn 33 |
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| He'd spent four nights away, before he left. The first two were purely to monitor Arekoth's leg. H'kon's belly had twisted when the landing had gone awry, when his dragon's mind had gone lightless in the pain and adrenaline of the moment. The time thereafter was not so bad, but he was wary. Wariness had given him focus, forcing quiet into the link that had been plagued for so long by so many unformed, intangible worries, worries H'kon had not known what to do with, worries his dragon had picked at and played with and dismissed, in turn. The first night, after Arekoth had fallen asleep, H'kon had found them again. The second night, when his dragon's sky-fire colours had returned, they both slept soundly. It wasn't that he'd not seen or spent time with Madilla and the children the third day. He and Dilan had logged a couple hours going over the signs of healing and normalisation in the brown's foot. H'kon had been quite pleased with the boy's aptitude, perhaps in part reflecting his dragon's pride in his boy. But that night was for the wing, and he'd not been able to stay after he'd taken Dilan home. By the time the drinks had been had, by the time they'd got down to business and H'kon had agreed, as much as volunteered, to head up the organisation of their assistance to Nabol, by the time all were dispersing, it was too late. There was little point in disturbing them all for his own heart's satisfaction, least of all when his dragon was alive with the prospect of mission. He found them the next evening, when he told Madilla his plans, once again adept only at speaking practical specifics - that it would not be so long, that it was a matter of presence and politics perhaps even more than practicality, that he would be setting up a rotational schedule - and none of the rest that had been just below the surface for so long, none of what he pushed down again. Raija had been too active to be held, though H'kon had taken it as a good sign; perhaps she'd not wake terrified, when he'd not be there to make her safe. Dilan was showing off his numbers. They were up later than he'd hoped, and he'd bid Madilla a final farewell, still simple, with no attempt at deep conversation, without even the chance of taking her to bed a final time before they left, Lilabet still on the couch and aware, with her newest focus of pre-Harper study. He'd spent the rest of the night packing his notes on Nabol from a turn before, clothes, basic gear, and some dried foodstuffs to contribute to those who would be sharing their tables. They left at dawn. He was in Nabol four days, before he came home. The first was spent talking with the cotholders. H'kon had kept in contact with most, as best he could. Some of his wingriders had not been so diligent. The holders told him their needs, their concerns. They plotted out trips, that he and Arekoth could see for themselves and offer suggestion, or, ideally, assistance. They talked of their progress, they noted the changes to territory on a map. Young men shied from Arekoth, some of whom H'kon thought he recognised from the camps. Younger children were enthralled with the dragon. The brown's leg gave no trouble, but the first day was light. They turned to sleep late, and were up early again, the next day. The second and third days, he toured with the holders and the extra hands alike, taking notes to bring back to the Weyr for Y'rel (who would inevitably share them with Tevrane) of any further efforts required, beyond transport or basic distribution of goods. He spent much more of his time setting out itineraries for those who would be leaving. The second night, he worked late, checking over his notes, pairing riders to those in need, considering what he knew of each side so best he could. It was more exhausting for H'kon than any amount of physical labour might have been, but the third night offered him no more rest. There was a supper with some of the more influential outlying cotholders. H'kon sat among music and conversation, companionship and purpose, not far at all from where that winter camp had been struck not so long before, warmed with companionship and wine. It did not dismiss those embittered by past events from his mind; it gave him a wider view, of how the hold's people and land were changing, adapting. It made him wonder how much of this he'd missed a turn before, and how much really had needed to be rebuilt. The fourth day, H'kon met with W'nol, explaining what he'd achieved, supplying copies of his schedules and itineraries, promising updates and support from the Weyr, should the bluerider require anything. When he was certain his wingrider was settled, he and Arekoths aid their farewells, and took to the skies. It was a different Nabol they looked down on now. It was progress. He trusted it to progress further. H'kon envision the bowl for Arekoth, that image foremost in his mind, to the backdrop of those colours dancing as they only did for those back home: there family. Perhaps he could trust that to progress as well. |
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