The Weight of Expectations
Dragonsfall Weyr
Amber Hills Hold
Vintner Hall
Healer Hall
Hidden Meadows
Dolphin Cove Weyr
Dolphin Hall
Emerald Falls Hold
Harper Hall
Printer Hall
Green Valley Hold
Leeward Lagoon Hold
Barrier Lake Weyr
Sunstone Seahold
Citrus Bay Hold
Writers: Shawna
Date Posted: 3rd May 2026
Characters: A'brevan, Zariah, Zaleri
Description: A’brevan celebrates Turns Beginning and his promotion with his foster family
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 1, day 2 of Turn 13
Notes: Mention: K’valdran, T’gyrlan, X’eri
The last few days had been filled with the chaos and then cleanup of the Weyrwide Turns End activities that had kept his foster family busy, but now in the aftermath there was time for private, family celebrations. A’brevan was halfway through setting the table when Zariah swooped in and slammed a list and a writing implement directly in his way before taking the stack of plates out of his arms.
“Here, I’ll do that, you sign this. It’s a petition to bring back the old wing names.”
Dryly, A’brevan scanned the page, “Do you promise not to rant about this at dinner if I sign it?” He didn’t actually wait for an answer before scribbling his name at the bottom of the list.
“No. Now, when you deliver that to K’valdran, make sure-”
“I’m not bringing that to the Weyrleader, Zariah.”
“But you signed it!”
“I signed it because you care, not because I do. Frankly I don’t care what name goes on top of my wing reports.” Despite her offer to take over, he went for the stack of bowls himself and followed along behind her as she started setting out silverware.
“That’s because you bounce around from wing to wing. Me, I’ve been in the same wing since I graduated. It’s a matter of pride,” the greenrider said, pointing at him with a butter knife. “You should have more loyalty to tradition- you’re a wingleader now.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works. Besides, I’m going to have enough trouble wrangling my wing without starting fights about what we’re going to call it. Speaking of…” He eyed the finished place settings and felt guilty for the twinge of relief when he came up not one, but two settings short, “No T’gyrlan or Raleri?” Zariah’s answering frown made him feel worse.
“No, I had to take Raleri home first thing this morning. And… well.. This isn’t exactly the family dinner to start bringing T’gyrlan, I don’t think. I’m not sure if you’ve been in the kitchen yet.”
A’brevan snorted, “I did see the cake, yes.” A frosted monstrosity that said “Congratulations Wingleader” almost buried beneath sprinkles, “I thought the sprinkles were Raleri’s work.”
That did get a small, sad laugh out of Zariah, “You would be right; she was disappointed she had to leave, but the timezones makes it hard.”
As he finished setting out the glasses, he gave Zariah a one armed hug as he passed her, “Next time we’ll do family breakfast, not dinner, and I promise not to get promoted and make it the A’brevan party, huh? You can bring your bronzerider by then. Unless he’s too uppity for a lower caverns family dinner. It’s weird he hasn’t come yet,” he teased.
As the comforting words turned teasing, Zariah dug her elbow into her foster brother’s side and squirmed away. “Oh, he’s not like that; it just hasn’t been good timing, and now is the worst. The demotion stung. I understand the why but…” She sighed, “At least it’s you.” At A’brevan’s surprised look, she said, “You’re not going to hold his injured pride against him. You WILL be nice to him, right?”
“You’re not pregnant, are you? The last time you told me to be nice to another bronzerider you were pregnant. Whatever happened to X'eri? I liked X’eri.” He knew, of course, but the dig had the desired effect of turning Zariah’s sad expression into indignation.
“I am not pregnant and don’t you dare let Zaleri hear you suggest it.”
“Oh, I am acutely aware of our sister’s baby fever. She has informed me it was ‘my turn’, however. I pointed out I was single and now I have a blind date with a weaver in my future.”
“You are going to love her!” The door to the kitchen burst open as Zaleri came out with a large soup pot. “Don’t you dare, it’s hot,” she scolded as A’brevan moved to take it from her. “She’s very quiet and kind, and I’ve showed her some of your paintings.”
“You did not!”
“Someone has to advocate for you. You’d just sit quietly in the corner if we let you. No no-” She stopped A’brevan from taking his usual seat at the end of the table. “Wingleaders get the head of the table. See? This is what I mean.”
As the rest of the family filtered in with various parts of the meal, A’brevan gave an apologetic smile to his foster father- who just beamed as he took A’brevan’s usual spot next to Zerias. Clearly this had been discussed in advance and without A’brevan’s input. Still, he didn’t argue; they were proud of his promotion, and he wouldn’t take that away from them. This was, after all, part of the plan to give Dragonsfall back to the families that had lived here for generations. The people around this table weren’t his family by blood, but they’d raised him to be the man who Riakerth had chosen, and they deserved to celebrate the fruits of that labor.
Now he just had to live up to their pride.
Last updated on the June 4th 2026