aljanling

There was more than one time when Al’jan regretted his cousin’s Impression of a gold. He missed her devoutly during Weyrling training, when she was off learning how to be a Weyrwoman, and he was stuck doing drills. It wasn’t that he disliked his clutchmates, it was the absence of a presence that had been near him all his life. And he worried, worried as he hadn’t since he’d been stuck in bed with a concussion and there was only Jhetarya to tend to the barren reaches of Folly Cothold. Fivrith was no help.
<<Al’jan, why can’t we fly with Arosambyth? I am good at flying. I could help her.>>
<<Al’jan, are you sure that those bronzes aren’t bothering her?>>
<<Al’jan…>>
Fivrith was as stubborn and open as Jhetarya, as guileless as a hatchling still. But Arosambyth held her own council, plotted, and got away with statements that would send her cohorts into fits had anyone but Arosambyth made them. Arosambyth was a skeptic; Fivrith was a pessimist. Arosambyth was silver-tongued; Fivrith was as subtle as a club.
Al’jan appreciated Fivrith. Like his cousin, he could always rely on his lifemate’s council. But the situations that surged around Arosambyth could be dangerous for his plainspoken cousin, and Al’jan, to his frustration, never saw enough of her to help.
<<When we graduate, we will be there to protect them,>> Fivrith muttered, the tang of hot copper and the taste of blood coming over on his restless tenor. <<I hope we graduate soon. The Old One, your grandfather, he worries my clutchsib’s rider too much. When we are free to do as we like, we must fix it.>>
The Telgaran rider stroked his lifemate’s terra-cotta hide. “Grandfather doesn’t worry me as much as those bronzeriders. Jheta’s no beauty, and they might make her think they’re attracted to her just until Arosambyth flies.”
<<I will hurt them if they do,>> Fivrith said moodily. <<They’d better not upset Jhetarya.>>
Al’jan smiled, briefly. “Well, we’ll still be here. We’ll see that Jheta gets only the very best bronze and brownriders.”
Fivrith shifted, threat in every line of him. <<And if they break her heart, you can break their noses,>> he suggested, with the slightest hint of dark humor.
“That I will,” Al’jan said grimly. “That I will.”