A Hammer and a Nail

Writers: Devin, Duskdog
Date Posted: 2nd May 2026

Characters: M'sar, T'lonas
Description: M'sar skips class and the Weyrlingmaster has to come get him.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 13, day 1 of Turn 12
Notes: Mentioned: Sybana

T'lonas

M'sar had snickered his way through the class on weyr sexuality and now there was a short break before the next lesson on dragonrider etiquette.

Nazoth had been napping but he was awake now, stretching as his eyes started whirling faster. }:I want to play!:{

M'sar smiled and rubbed the big brown's head. **Then let's go play.** He didn't want to sit through a boring class on proper behavior anyway.

A few of his classmates had gone to relieve themselves, so there was nothing odd about M'sar leaving the room. But unlike them, he kept going, out into the Weyrbowl, with Nazoth waddling along beside him. They chased each other for a while, then wrestled in the dirt. M'sar laughed as Nazoth tackled him, wondering at how he could feel so happy, at how he was capable of loving his dragon so much.

}:I want to see the moving water again.:{ Nazoth started heading for the creek and M'sar followed him.

}:Nazoth,:{ came the deep, deceptively calm rumble of Domorth. }:Sit down.:{

Domorth himself hadn't moved from his spot on a ledge above, where he had been idly watching the comings and going below. But T'lonas was crossing the Bowl with short, rapid strides.

Nazoth paused and cocked his head. }:Why?:{

}:Because you are not where you are supposed to be, and neither is your rider. There will be less trouble for you if you sit, now.:{ Domorth paused thoughtfully, though not kindly. }:It would be even better, in fact, if you turn around and meet my rider in the middle. I suggest you tell yours.:{

Nazoth didn't want to sit. He didn't want M'sar to be where he was supposed to be, because that was class and class was boring. But . . . Domorth was their leader. }:Domorth says we should sit, or turn around. I don't want to,:{ the brown pouted, even as he plopped his butt on the ground.

Aw, feck. The Weyrlingmaster. M'sar turned and sure enough, there he was. Busted.

"Well," T'lonas said as he approached, looking the pair over. Domorth did not join them, but his muzzle was clearly still pointed in their direction, his attention clear. "Nazoth, at least, knows when to obey. Hello, M'sar. Is there any particular reason the two of you are out here playing in the dirt instead of joining us in class?"

"Nazoth wanted to play." M'sar shrugged. "Etiquette is boring and I don't need it. I ain't a Lord Holder."

T'lonas, arms crossed over his chest now, nodded. "I see. But you do understand that you're a dragonrider now, correct? You're representing the Weyr. The way you interact with people reflects upon us directly, and that's important -- particularly when you're dealing with holdfolk who may already have fear or misunderstandings about us." He drummed his fingers on his arm. "More importantly, however, sitting through lessons builds patience, and the ability to learn and take direction, which are going to be important to you sooner than you think."

M'sar snorted. "Holders can suck it. I know I gotta take orders in 'Fall or I'll die, blah, blah. I'll pay attention in drills and shit, and I'll take care of Nazoth. But some of this stuff's just a waste of time." And he didn't have to play nice anymore, because they couldn't take Nazoth away from him.

Ah. T'lonas expected there to be some sort of adjustment from some of the Holdless, but he'd held on to high hopes. It seemed that some of Sybana's concerns had been right, after all, even if he still felt she was too quick to paint them all with the same brush, and quite harsh with the brushstrokes.

He didn't believe any of them were beyond learning.

"And why should I believe that you'll manage to do all those things, which are much harder, when you aren't even willing to do the bare minimum when it's something simple?"

M'sar thought about it for a moment. "Don't care if you believe me."

}:M'sar takes good care of me,:{ Nazoth told Domorth. }:And we will learn to fly and fight Thread.:{

"You'd best start caring. Your future wingleader isn't going to put up with you just doing whatever you want -- and therefore, neither will I. It would be a disservice to them, to Nazoth... and to you. Come back to class. Now."

The weyrling tilted his head slightly. "What if I don't?"

"Then I'll have Domorth -- or a queen, if absolutely necessary -- order Nazoth to obey without you. I don't like to do that, because it can be upsetting, and he may be terribly embarrassed by it. But I do hope you care enough about your dragon that you wouldn't force me to go that far. And more than that: I hope that you don't want to give your dragon the reputation of having a lazy and disobedient rider. Or being held back in lessons -- from flying, from betweening -- because I can't have confidence in your ability to follow instructions." T'lonas regarded him seriously, if perhaps also a trifle sadly. "I'm not your enemy, M'sar. I have no desire to see you fail."

"Using my dragon against me, that's low." M'sar glared down at the Weyrlingmaster, his anger growing.

}:Why is yours upsetting mine?:{ Confused and agitated, Nazoth flexed his little wings.

"I told you very clearly that I don't really want to do that. But you're the one who's making the choices, here," T'lonas pointed out, hands clasped behind his back, unintimidated despite the difference in height. "You're the one who decided that you can do whatever you want to do, even though you should know by now that that's not how it works here. You chose to follow your dragon's whims and come out here, despite knowing very well that you're required to be somewhere else. You chose not to return when I gave you the chance. You chose to test my authority. What did you expect to happen, exactly? Did you think I was going to say 'Oh, carry on, then' and leave you to it? M'sar, I don't enjoy wielding the power I have like a hammer. So please stop making yourself into a nail."

}:Why is _yours_ upsetting _mine_?:{ Domorth countered. }:Your rider's job is to learn, and he is refusing to do so. My rider's job is to teach -- and it makes him unhappy when the lesson must be unpleasant for no good reason. He has been nothing but patient, while yours has been defiant and rude.:{ The bronze paused. }:You will find that I do not share my rider's patience. Nazoth, go back to the barracks. _Now._:{

Nazoth hung his head. }:I'm sorry. I did not mean to be bad.:{

M'sar clenched his fists. "A nail, huh? I'll nail y--"

}:M'sar!:{ The young dragon pressed his will on his rider. }:We must obey our leaders. We must go to the barracks. Come!:{ With absolute assurance his rider would follow, Nazoth started waddling toward the entrance.

M'sar felt a flicker of defiance, but he didn't really want to fight Nazoth. He blew out a breath. "Nazoth says we should go." After a brief moment of hesitation, M'sar turned to follow his dragon.

}:Thank you, Nazoth,:{ Domorth said. }:You cannot change bad choices from the past, but making a good one now means something.:{

**Couldn't have said it better, myself,** T'lonas said to his dragon, turning to watch M'sar and Nazoth retreat back to the barracks. He released a breath he didn't realize he was holding. For an instant, he had honestly thought M'sar might swing at him. He hadn't expected so much escalation, or so quickly. Fighting authority was one thing; _literally_ fighting authority was something else entirely. And not something he had often encountered among weyrlings.

It seemed M'sar was going to be more trouble than he'd first thought.

Last updated on the June 4th 2026

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A Hammer and a Nail