| Weyrling Fi'elt and green Gebrochenth |
| <<Your home has interesting currents,>> Gebrochenth said softly into his mind as her delicate frame shuddered in a fresh gust of wind. Her rider crouched low to her neck. “It’s a lot like the Hold, sweet,” Fi’elt murmured in reply, stroking her shoulder with a gloved hand. The green couldn’t divert enough of her attention from her flying to look at him, but her tail lashed uneasily. <<Are you sure this is a good idea, Fi?>> Her rider shrugged. “It might not be the brightest notion I ever had, but it was partly yours, which makes it good enough to try.” He clutched at the straps as she fell several feet to the right. <<Sorry,>> his lady panted, sidestroking twice, then backwinging neatly down to the slate-paved landing area. <<Hard flying.>> Fi’elt slithered off gracefully, rubbing his lifemate’s foreleg before he started for the Hold. “Just stay right here, Broche, and I’ll be back. Good work, m’lady.” The great foyer was more crowded than he remembered it, full of a bustle that had been lacking nearly two Turns ago. Taking a deep breath, Fi’elt pushed open the doors to the great hall. Lord Eleison’s blond head was bent over the auburn hair of Fi’elt’s young half-brother, who was now a toddler. “Fileos,” Fi’elt breathed softly. His stepfather’s face had more lines than he remembered, but there was still a gentle look in the lord’s eyes. The Lady Kaeritha looked just as he remembered her; hale, strong, and smiling. It was her eyes that caught sight of him first, so quickly that he didn’t have a chance to see if Catcheen was seated at the table with them. “Fideltas!” she sang out joyfully, rising to her feet with care and flinging herself across the length of the Hall. He barely had time to eye her burgeoning belly before she embraced him. “Mother!” he replied warmly, and she looked up and smiled at him. “You’ve changed so, Deltas? Where have you been?” He grinned down at her. “One of the things I changed is my name, Mother. I’m Fi’elt now.” “Fi’elt?” Lord Eleison inquired, brows furrowed. “Does this mean you’ve well and truly abandoned your duties?” The young greenrider blinked. “Duties, Father?” The man he’d called Father looked down at him, a hint of sternness in his face. “You were to be Heir, Delta—er, Fi’elt. Was I pushing you in the wrong way all along, then?” Tears sprang to the Rider’s eyes with startling suddenness. “Fileos was to be Heir…” he faltered. “Acian said…” Eleison embraced his stepson crushingly. “And you believe who, Fi’elt? Acian, or your own father? I suppose, now that you’ve turned into a Rider, Fileos will have to be Heir after all. No one can say I didn’t try.” He stepped back, surveying Fi’elt proudly. “And where’s your lifemate, young man? Where did you Impress? Why weren’t we invited?” “My green Gebrochenth is resting on the Landing Field, Father, and I Impressed at Tarizal Weyr. You weren’t invited because nobody knew to invite you. I…was a bit disappointed, then, but Broche’s worth ten Cradlemounts. Come this way, Mother, Father, and meet my darling!” All thoughts of Catcheen left his mind as his parents gravely introduced themselves to his lifemate. |
 |