A Grief With No Name

Writers: Yvonne
Date Posted: 18th December 2024

Characters: H'run
Description: H'run slips into some bad habits after the events at Barrier Lake's completion ceremony
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 2, day 8 of Turn 12
Notes: Mentioned: Kapera, J'nus, D'hol, L'val, K'mai, I'serin

H'run

The disaster at Barrier Lake Weyr cast a pall over Dragonsfall Weyr. It was too soon after the poisoned Hatching at Dolphin Cove. It was too abrupt, it didn't make sense that a Weyrwoman could be attacked and her the senior Queen go /between/ during their celebration party. And it was all anyone could talk about.

H'run sat by himself in the corner of the Dining Cavern and ran apathetic fingers over his gitar strings. He'd been at Barrier Lake, in the crowd, more than half in his cups when Riyanth's distress ripped through the celebration like a scream. And then he'd just... gone home. Barrier Lake wasn't his Weyr and Kapera wasn't his Weyrwoman, and H'run knew when he was in the way.

It had been awful, coming back to a sky full of keening dragons. Terrifying and lonely, and all he wanted was someone's arms around him, even if it was a false promise of love-- except nearly the first thing he'd seen was Sebeth landing on the Weyrleader's ledge. So much for K'mai's protestations that he barely knew I'serin. H'run had retreated to his own cold weyr and cold bed where he sat shivering and tried to process what had happened.

Riyanth was _dead_ at Barrier Lake's completion ceremony, and nobody knew why. The wine he'd drunk was acid in his belly, and he'd gone to sleep with tears on his cheeks.

The morning was bright and too crisp, and the Weyr went through the motions of nomalicy while a pall hung over it like a thundercloud. Everyone seemed to speak in whispers.

"I heard that Kapera's weyrmate threw the man that killed her off the ledge," one greenrider whispered to another at the table nearby, his head bent close to his friend's. H'run thought they looked like a painting together, his pale hair mingling with her dark.

"I thought that it was a healer who did it, and he got stabbed?" the other greenrider replied. "My friend told me that he's alive but in a coma, same as the Weyrwoman. And I also heard that D'hol arrested a dozen Holders who were there pretending to be Traders."

The first greenrider rubbed his arms, his expression bleak. "Barrier Lake should let Thread fall on their territories. I think we all should. Let them all get eaten alive."

"I might be sick next Threadfall." The second greenrider made a face. "Just don't tell L'val that I've planned it ahead."

H'run's fingers plucked a melancholy melody from his gitar. Music was so useless. Perhaps he should go back to Barrier Lake to see if the Weyrharper there needed help. Or maybe Saibra needed help here, with... with what? Writing a consolation note to the Barrier Lake Weyrleader? **I am so sharding _useless_.** He rubbed his puffy eyes and wished Ashela was still at Dragonsfall Weyr, or that K'mai would relent, or that he wasn't sitting alone.

His attention wandered back to the two greenriders. They had stopped talking altogether and were just sitting side by side, the one's head on the other's shoulder, her dark hair falling around them both so that together they reminded H'run of a moon half-hidden in clouds. In that moment he hated them more than he'd hated anyone.

The bluerider turned back to his gitar and repeated the melancholy melody he'd found between chords. Perhaps he'd write it down and send it to the Harper Hall. A lament for Riyanth, perhaps. One of many, a tiny voice lost in the crowd and immediately forgotten, just like its writer.

Last updated on the January 1st 2025

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A Grief With No Name