G'len is Homesick

Western Weyr - Weyrling Barracks
Inside the wooden building fresh air circulates from the many open windows lining the two longest walls. Outside, you can see many tropical trees and shrubs. The walls and ceiling of the barracks are made of slats that have been pegged together tightly. Overhead are beams from which electric lights have been strung. The floor is of black volcanic stone, rubbed to a smoothness that will not hurt the tender claws of young dragons.
Along each of the two longer walls are cots set up next to rounded depressions in the stone. There are enough areas available for all of the young dragons and their new riders with room to spare. At the back of the barracks are trunks with oiling supplies and bins where fresh meat is delivered until the dragonets learn to hunt for themselves.

It's late enough in the evening that most good tired little weyrlings and dragons have gone to bed. The room ins quieting with snores here and there to punctuate the sound of dragons sleeping.
G'len is wrapped in his blankets pressed close to his dragon's side. His head is nestled with a pillow , his head near where his dragon's head is curved over a forearm in a peaceful, protective sort of way. Still, there are a few jerks of the boy's body that shows that maybe he is not sleeping too well.

N'kor is on the night shift, relieving most of the assistants for the evening so that they could get a good rest in themselves. Having kept his office door open it's easy enough to see the man sitting in there at the coffee table, hunched over his work and filling in some forms. Though, a while later, his boots click against the floor as he shuffles toward the door. He eventually stretches his arms to the side as he takes a stroll down the isle, regarding the weyrlings with a silent gaze, mostly enjoying the fact that alot of the dragons have now worked out a sleep schedule.

There's a little gasp, like the hushed catch of a breath. Dylanth raises his head and gently lips at his Lad's hair. It's getting a little longer, and wavy. Was his Lad saying something? The young dragon puts his head back down and closes all but his outermost eyelids. Soon there's another spasm that runs down G'lens body. He pushes himself up and with a hand rubs at his face. His back is still to the room. He reaches out to stroke slowly over his dragon's side and traces the spars of the blue wing with his fingertips. He sits up to lean against the dragon's side, drawing Dylanth's warmth into his chest.

As N'kor paces down the isle the abrupt motion from one of the weyrlings has his alert eyes flashing over toward their couch. The red-head watches as Dylanth stirs though says nothing, watching further as G'len wakes and then tries to curl back to sleep. Though, he doesn't yet do anything about it, simply observing if the pair were just having a bad dream or if Dylanth was rousing to do one of many dragonic things.

Soon it is eveident that this is not just a momentary shift in a regular sleep or dream pattern. The weyrling sniffs and his shoulders shake. He reaches out to rub his dragon's side. There goes the nightshirt sleeve, up to the kid's face. Hopefully just his eyes.

In the semi-darkness of the barracks, it would be hard to notice the weyrlingmaster standing there observing the scene - in fact, considering how still he's rapidly become so that he can listen, it's clear this man has an aptitude for being stealthy. More than that, unless the weyrling was expecting the man to be there, N'kor wouldn't be there. The scoundral-turned weyrlingmaster waits a few moments more as if to ensure he was interrupting actions and sounds clearly due to his own visual hinderance. Once he's clear that the young man is going through something, N'kor approaches quietly, as if to make sure the others around G'len do not rouse. In a low voice that whispers across to G'len, he murmurs, "You alright G'len?"

G'len startles, eyes widening a bit as if he's actually just awakened. The dark eyes sparkle with wetness that he can't blink away. "I'm fine," he whispers back in a thick voice then swallows. Is he intentionally lying or is he trying to be brave? He still leans against the young Blue as if he's afraid to break the touch with Dylanth. "He's going to be all right, isn't he?"

It's upon seeing the tears in G'len's eyes that really makes N'kor startle. Maybe he hadn't expected the weyrling to ever show that much emotion because it seemed on the whole he was doing rather well - capable indeed of ensuring his dragon had the proper care. It's like a wave crashing down on a parent who just finally realized their child was deeply upset and had been oblivious to it for much too long. Guilt finds a way into N'kor's eyes as he points to a spot, "May I?" and whether or not the room is made, N'kor finds a spot to sit down next to G'len. "It doesn't look like it…" he says in that low voice, the man taking a steadying breath as he regards the weyrling, "Dylanth will be better than fine." There's a brief moment where it all comes together, "You're not worried about the illness, are you? Western just closed off it's skies to Istan riders. The chances will be very slim for it to come here."

G'len says softly, "But there was one here the other day, for that…Flight…thing. Arre all the other dragons all right?" There's a littl squeek her in the voice. He licks his lips and swallows. His head rests agains Dylanth's side, curls crushed against the healthy hide, all properly cleaned and oiled. Not even over-oiled.

"There was one.. Yes.. Nasrinth was part of that flight. I'm keeping him away from all the weyrling dragons for a few sevendays to ensure he doesn't have it." He tilts his head, putting his hand on G'len's shoulder if he can where fingers give a comforting squeeze, "You'll not lose him G'len. I'll guide you and Dylanth through weyrlinghood to the best of my ability. You'll be fine."

G'len blinks tears from his eyes as he looks over at the WeyrlingMaster. /His/ WeyrlingMaster. That's supposed to mean something. It's all right if it does mean something. This is his life now, it's not just s dream. The feelings float from the boy to his dragon and around to include the man sitting so close to the Master. "Thank you," he says softly, not because he's whispering to keep from waking anybody else but moreso that he not be heard by the others. "I miss my family," he says without even planning to. "I miss my little brother."

When G'len begins to finally explain what was causing him his heartache, it became clear to N'kor that this was going to be a difficult case, considering the man could not relate. N'kor had no family that he was close too, even Lissi wasn't close with him despite her being his cousin - they'd only seen eachother once prior to her coming to Western. Naliah? He hasn't seen his Craftmaster sister since he impressed at Xanadu. His brothers? Well, they both scurried around the globe so much that N'kor was lucky to see a hair of them. His parents were much of the same story, where he avoids the mother and has never brought up the father. So as it were, N'kor's doesn't really give G'len a sympathetic expression, instead, with another squeeze to his shoulder he murmurs, "We're your family now G'len. Dylanth is your brother." Some how, dragons were supposed to fill that void - which made an abrupt level of concern rise in N'kor's expression, "If it's just being home sick I don't see why your family couldn't visit?"

"They're out at sea," G'len explains. "I have to wait till they come back with the tithe portion to the Weyr. We've always tithed to the Weyr." He seems to be proud of that fact. He shudders again, so many things whirling around inside. "I've never been on land for so long in my life."

"And I've never been in the same place so long in my life," he sincerely remarks, "Honestly G'len, I cannot say what craving the oceans feels like, but I can say that I crave the open road where there is no boundary and freedom comes swiftly with excitement and adventure…" his tone of voice was abruptly lifted until he quiets down do the person in the next couch stirring, "But even the best of us have to weigh anchor and port. We cannot always be drifting aimlessly with the tide." He claps G'len on the shoulder, smirking as he rises up off the couch, "Soon as they come in G'len, you're welcome to invite them to stay for a while." A beat, "Also, in the future, when you're full-fledged rider, you can even provide them with escort - since that's one of our duties as riders of the Weyr."

G'len sits up and places a hand on N'kor's arm, looking hopeful. "That's what I want to do! I want to ride escort for the ships. I used to watch the dragons fly over us when we were sailing an wonder what we looked like to them. They were always to high up and looking so small and beautiful against the sky. Sometimes one would fly down low and glide broadside to us. I used to love that. I never thought I'd ever be on a dragon…I'll be on Dylanth soon!" He's almost breathless and falls silent. His eyes look down, then up again. "WIll I be able to have other people ride with me? Will Dylanth be big enough for that?"

N'kor smiles then at G'len, having successfully driven his mind onto something positive, "I've no doubt if that's what you want to do you'll probably end up doing it." He nods his head with a reassuring confidence. "Soon enough yes," he murmurs, sighing a little, "all too soon they grow up and you wonder where time went." His eyes linger on the floor between his feet until G'len's last, when N'kor chuckles, "Oh definitely. Up to two if not three passengers." A beat, "You should try getting back to sleep. It won't be long now before I wake you all up for a morning run."

G'len smiles and releases N'kor's arm. His dark hair floats over the pillow as he rests his head. "Thank you, sir. I just…had a bad dream, I guess. It woke me. I was worried for Dylanth. I love him and I don't want anything bad to happen or for anybody to take him away from me."

"Well, I don't know who suggested that dragons can be taken away from anyone, but that's not the first time from your class that I've heard this very same fear. No one /can/ take away your dragon. They're not like whers, which do switch people. Dragons are bonded to you for life. So take care of him and try not to worry so much, or else he'll start stressing." He nods, "See if you can sleep. We've a busy day ahead of us…" He watches the young rider before stepping back and moving back into the isle, hearing snickering coming from across the room as two green riders have their heads together, chit-chatting like girls do. N'kor makes a 'pppst' sound at them and gestures for them to 'zip-it' .. and eventually the two settle, but not without giggling about it first.

G'len closes his eyes and lets out a breath like he's been tightly holding it inside for too long. Another deep, calm breath and things are better. Still, there's that hand that reaches out to stroke his dragons side until it slides down to rest upon his own chest as he falls into a calmer sleep.

Dylanth raises his head just a little to nuzzle his Lad's hair.

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