Difference between revisions of "Logs:Home Again"

With the last bundle of carefully-wrapped goods fixed onto the straps, Deveriteauxth looked like a pack runner ready to hit the 'Reaches mountain trails.

« But better looking, of course. »

« Duh. »

Of course his dragon was better looking. R'co gave his lifemate's shoulder a hearty pat, then turned to go through his weyr - his home, for the last five turns - to check, one last time. Every corner, every nook, every cranny was checked, especially that secret hiding corner he'd discovered in his second turn there, where he'd hidden the turnday present that it had taken months for him to find for L'--

« Don't. »

The sweet aniseed and smoke of his lifemate was as comforting as ever, and R'co sighed apologetically, allowing the coolness of Deveriteauxth's mental touch to scour thoughts of the recently-failed relationship from his mind. « You're right. Sorry. »

With his final sweep concluded, the brownrider, one of Ista's own since Aerianth and Volath's clutch hatched six turns ago, was ready to go home.

Home.

High Reaches.

He hadn't lived there - not properly, anyway - since he was 12. That was almost 14 turns ago, before he'd gone off to the Healer Hall. Then his grandmother had passed away, her blue Trusyth making one last trip between, and his mother had moved to Telgar Weyr to be with her new weyrmate. That left little reason for him to return, and so he hadn't. Not really; not beyond the occasional trip there for work, anyway.

Back out on the ledge, he climbed carefully up Deveriteauxth's side to buckle himself in, ready to leave. It was the right time. It was all right; things had fallen into place nicely so far, and he could only hope that the rest would follow suit.

If only life could be that easy.

Deveriteauxth dropped lazily from their high ledge, circling one last time around the bowl of Ista Weyr. He called out his farewell to those dragons watching, sent a wave of refreshingly cool thought on behalf of R'co to Nideth and Ziseth, and then the darkness of between enveloped them.

Home.

Suddenly it appeared below them - High Reaches Weyr on a glorious summer's day.

« Welcome home, mine. »

« Welcome home, Dev. »

With greetings extended to those in charge (« Just be sure to say hello to Iesaryth and Hraedhyth, Dev, we want to be on their good side, no Szadath's. »), the pair made their way to their new weyr.

The good thing was that it was high, up near the top of the bowl and with a view that neither dragon nor rider could argue about. Slipping down from Deveriteauxth's back, R'co led the way inside - roomy, yes, but...

"Argh! Fucking spinners, Dev!"

A thick, dangled web full of them covered the door through to R'co's too-dark quarters, and the brownrider flapped his hands at the bugs scuttling off, hopping out of the way of one brave enough to come towards him. How dare it?!

« Fuck this. No-one bothered to clean it out? Fuck this. »

Not quite the welcoming abode he'd imagined. Not bothering to hide his disappointment, R'co unloaded his things, leaving them cluttering up the tunnel entrance to his dragon's couch.

« Let's go down and find a cleaning crew. Let them tackle it - maybe we'll butter them up with the promise of hand creams or something. »

« Do you think they'll buy it? »

« 'Course they will. Who could say no to this face? »

Deveriteauxth's silence was more telling than his words could ever be as he dropped from the ledge, circling slowly down to alight in the bowl.

« Yeah, yeah, darling. You just wait - you'll see. I'll turn on the R'co charm, and they'll be eating from the palm of my hand. You'll see. Why don't you go eat? I'll be back before you know it. »

And off he sauntered into the familiar lower caverns, in search of a cleaning team to coerce into sorting out that gloomy hole of a weyr he'd been assigned.

It wasn't quite the arrival home he'd expected, but it'd do. It would most certainly do.

He was home. Home.

And, knowing what it was he intended to do, the word had never tasted so good.