Karonil
:Story::Search::Candidate::Hatching::Weyrling::Adult:
:Dark Moon Weyr::Tripaldi Weyr

Now here was K’var after the death of his wife standing in the doorway to his bedroom. Karonil glared at the dragonrider, wishing he could blame the young man for his beloved’s death. He knew though that K’var was not at fault, but even as he glared part of him wondered what the bluerider was doing there. He didn’t have to wonder long as K’var stepped into the room and away from the door. His father strode into the room and looked down at Karonil where he still kneeled by the side of the bed. His father’s gaze took in the room and nodded his head to the drapes which K’var pulled open for him. Then his gaze once again settled on his son.

“Karonil,” he said tersely.

“Father,” replied Karonil, his voice hoarse from lack of use and dehydration.

“Don’t you take care of yourself, boy?”

“Not since my beloved Deisah proved you right,” said Karonil, choking back a sob.

“This is ridiculous boy, get off the floor,” said Poneril, striding over, grabbing Karonil’s arm and hauling him to his feet. “I’m sorry for your loss, but you can’t just kneel here and cry for the rest of your life. K’var told you the offer was always open if you changed your mind. Well, now that Deisah’s gone you’ve got nothing holding you back.”

“Is that why you’re here?” cried Karonil, wrenching his arm from his father’s grasp. “To send me to the Weyr now that Deisah’s gone? Well I’m still not going father. I’m doing just fine here!”

“Are you?” asked Poneril, his gaze boring into his son’s matching brown eyes. “Tell me then, when was the last time you visited your office? When was the last time you spoke to Bonilek about the condition of the hold? How are the fields? Have they been harvested yet? If you can answer any of those questions to my satisfaction I’ll go right back where I came from. Well, can you?”

“No sir,” said Karonil grudgingly, hanging his head in shame.

“As I suspected,” said Poneril, his tone becoming gruff with emotion. “My boy, killing yourself and letting the Hold fall to pieces won’t bring her back. But going to the Weyr just might give you something to live for. Not to mention it’ll give me something to do with all my time. I miss the hustle and bustle of this place.”

Karonil’s tears fell fresh as he realized his father was right. He’d spent all his time cooped up in this room, hoping that perhaps he’d wake up and it would all be some sort of terrible nightmare. But it was time he faced the facts, his Deisah was gone and she would never be coming back to him. Though he swore at that moment that he would never love another woman again there was no sense in staying here where her memories would haunt him daily. He slowly nodded his head and looked up at his father with tear stained cheeks. “Alright, father. I’ll go to the Weyr. You can have your hold back.”

“Good man,” said Lord Poneril and reached out to embrace his son.

Karonil returned the hug in shock. That was the first time in all his twenty-one years that his father had not called him “boy.”

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