Crazy random happenstance - {Knight}

[purnip]

It took a couple of hours to bathe and oil Lebeth at the lake. Those of course, were long and tiresome hours of standing in the Autumn sun getting just a little crispier. Fortunately for L'am he was darker skinned, and so there would be no burn to speak of. The sweat didn't leave itself out for the sake of convenience however.

Lebeth was taking a nap back at their weyr, snoozing away quite soundly. L'am decided to take that opportunity to leave for the pool. Suede was nowhere to be found, but that was well expected. The firelizard was out and about since the day after the battle that took place at the Dalibor Bowl. His bonded figured that the blue flit was supporting those who had been involved in the battle, as well as supporting those that were also affected by it by some way or another. L'am could admire Suede's actions. He would have done the same, but Lebeth needed to be watched. The dragonet was a lot more oblivious than he initially imagined he'd be. The young Bronze forgot to mention hunger or thirst. He reminded L'am a little too late when his skin was crackling and itching for the need of oiling. He would have forgotten where the room was if he left it on his own. L'am had to practically keep Lebeth glued to his hip when the Bronze wasn't taking his naps. Fortunately the young one slept often. That wouldn't last all that long, but hopefully neither would all this childish aloofness.

With a change of clothes tucked under his arm, L'am approached the bath area and checked it for any occupants. He was willing to wait if someone was using it already; he didn't want to leave anyone uncomfortable or awkward. As for himself, he didn't have shame at all. The blotches on his chest, arms, and legs were just a little embarrassing, but if they were noticed he would not make an effort to deny their existences. He was born that way; it had absolutely nothing to do with himself as a person.

It was empty inside, as far as he could tell. L'am strode inside, put the change of clothing by the pool, and picked up some sweetsand in a bucket to bring to the edge of the water. He removed his clothing and stepped inside, wincing at first at the touch of the luke-warm water before getting all things over with and submerging himself.

The feeling was elating. His mind went blank for a moment as he basked in comfort. Sure, the water was cool, but it was warm outside. He felt at ease. L'am thought of the reply he got from that message he sent the day after the battle once more. The subject was hard to forget. He asked of home and asked of his family. His father was falling ill and Fort was in an upheaval over that infamous night. L'am was getting too tired lately with his dragon charge. Fatherhood indeed. He truly hoped that Lebeth would evolve into more of a partner in the future than a son, because L'am was just not cut out for this.

Worries washed away with the dirt, sweat, and grime. He reached for the sweetsand to scrub into his hair, but as usual it was an animal to clean. It fought back with all its bounciness. It was so hard to tame for such a simple thing. Brushing it later would be the hardest; L'am didn't like to get his hair wet most of the time for that very reason. It did need a wash this time around however.

He hummed to himself a tune as he went along. He'd sing but he knew he couldn't sing to save his life.

[theknightwhosaysni]

The oil left his fingers feeling grimy and unclean, but at least Fee was feeling better. T’lar felt kind of guilty for not oiling Fee sooner, but the Purple had been fine with it, content to preen and clean his claws while T’lar oiled the dragonet. It wasn’t that bad, though. They’d had a nice conversation. Something about the clothes he wore or something. Yeah, T’lar hadn’t been paying much attention, which Fee had picked up on. But at least Fee hadn’t taken it personally. T’lar had been kind of distracted by Akal and Meggo’s arguing in the other room. However, the two flits had taken it elsewhere by the time T’lar had left, so that wasn’t much of an issue. At least Fee would be able to sleep now – he’d been complaining about lack of sleep every time his two flitters got in a fight. It was bugging him, too, but he’d gotten used to it by now.

Fee hadn’t, but at least he hadn’t told T’lar to get rid of the firelizards yet. That much, T’lar was grateful for.

Absently, T’lar ran his fingers through his hair, straightening it out as much as he could. It hung, slightly damp around his face, wet with salty sweat. T’lar shrugged to himself – he hadn’t really noticed that he was working that hard, but that, and the fact that his fingers and arms were slick with oil, as well as his lower legs, meant that he’d probably need to take a bath.

Baths weren’t so bad, and besides which, Fee always wanted him to take more of them, always saying something about the fact that if he bathed more often, his hair would look better or something. Well, he’d humor his lifemate for once, and take one without complaint, mostly because he himself felt grimy beyond words. First of all, he hated sweat. Second of all, this oil was nasty and it made him feel slimy. He couldn’t see how Fee could stand it at all, really. It made him want to jump in the nearest lake and scrub himself vigorously with sweetsand or something, but it must just be a dragon thing or something.

T’lar couldn’t wait until the Purple was done growing, though. At least then, he could be done oiling every day or something like that. How often did he oil Fee, anyways? He did a lot, for sure.

And the fact that Fee was growing so quickly didn’t really help much, because it made his skin crack more, which made oiling more important, which was just annoying, if you asked T’lar. Even if Fee was his lifemate, oiling and grooming that Purple was going to get boring after a while.

Speaking of that Purple, it seemed that at last, Fee had fallen asleep. He’d probably been asleep for a while, or else T’lar wouldn’t have gotten away with those last few thoughts, or, for that matter, several others. Yeah, Fee probably had been asleep for a while, which meant that he could finally leave and go take a bath, and wash that oil and sweat off. Yeah, that would be lovely, wouldn’t it?

T’lar glanced at Fee, who was curled up in a little ball, sleeping blissfully, and got to his feet, gathering up a change of clothes slipping quietly out of the room, and hoping that Fee wouldn’t hear him and question him on where he was going. He just wasn’t really in the mood for it right then, to tell the truth. He wanted to take a bath, not be distracted by his gossipy dragon’s latest gossip.

Luckily, though, Fee hadn’t noticed him leaving, so he was free to go take a bath in peace and quiet. Finally. You’d think someone would notice that he wanted to be alone once in a while, but if he wasn’t with Fee or Meggo, Akal was clinging to him like a needy puppy, which meant he was rarely alone, but, for once, the black seemed to have something better to than to cling to T’lar while he tried to take a bath.

Thank Faranth for that, T’lar thought to himself as he slid into the bathing room, wriggling out of his clothes and sliding into the room, peering around for a second or two before dumping his change of clothes by the wall, and carefully sliding in, paying little attention to the other form in the water.

As long as the other person wasn’t anyone he knew, he was fine...

[purnip]

T'lar didn't make any noise loud enough to get L'am's attention as he scrubbed away at his mass of curls. Sure, this was the second wash, but how often did he give that mop on his head this much attention? The last time he soaped his hair like this was about a week ago and his scalp was starting to itch. Once he felt that the lather had adequately been dispersed, he ducked under the water to rinse off his head.

It felt surreal to lie just under the water's surface and look out. The soap in the pool was still too thin to burn his eyes. L'am didn't want to tarry for long; if he lingered on his own like this for too long, he'd start thinking about things he'd rather leave to the past. Sitting up, he glanced over at the entrance, thinking he had seen a bit of movement in the corner of his eye. His head turned towards a figure that he had indeed spotted. Was it...weird to recognize someone's body before a face? Because he knew it was T'lar just by the view of his back. The thought was actually a lot more embarrassing than being caught in the same situation they had been in a couple of days before the Hatching.

What was the best course of action in this situation? Should he make his presence known, or should he just wait for the Purplerider to figure out that he was there? The Bronzerider smirked to himself at the strange coincidence that was their current standing. He had one idea but it was rather cruel on the other boy. The more he thought of it though, the more he had trouble preventing himself from smirking. The desire to go through with his plan was increasing by the second, and so the restraint he might have exercised under other circumstances was diminishing. Lately he was bored, beyond so. No one wanted to hold a decent conversation over the events that happened not long ago. Everyone his age was tending to a young dragonet, as was he. Weyrling life had fewer thrills than he had foolishly expected. Even a calculating man like L'am needed to have fun every now and then or he would go a little crazy.

So he decided to go through with it for the lulz hell of it. Besides, T'lar was the one person he had stopped trying to cater to, so it was perfectly fine to mess with him. The bucket he had filled with sweetsand was nearly empty, so he took it and with as much stealth as he could muster, he dunked the bucket into the water to fill it to the brim. Fully filled, L'am prepared himself before, with one swift motion, he heaved the water towards T'lar with intent to splash him.

Beyond that, sure, L'am had a plan. He appeared astounded, as if had just realized the horror that he had committed. Holding on tightly to the bucket, his expression was wary and slightly apologetic. With a perplexed look slowly creeping on to his face, he was going to flat-out lie about his reason for attacking the other boy with water. "T'lar?"

[theknightwhosaysni]

The water was not quite as warm as he’d hoped it would be, but that wasn’t so bad. His body was slowly adjusting to the lukewarm water, and now he kind of enjoyed it – it was much warmer than the air outside, even if it wasn’t hot enough to be just the way that he liked it, and that was all right. T’lar did like his water hot, and it was rarely warm enough that he could enjoy it fully. He had odd tastes, though, not many people liked water as hot as he did. He was just odd that way, apparently. T’lar didn’t understand how people could enjoy cold water, though, the entire point of bathing was to surround himself in hot water, not in cold water, but lukewarm was better than cold, he reminded himself, ducking under the water to wet his hair.

The sudden silence that surrounded him magnified some sounds, and muted others. It was a strange effect of water that he had long stopped questioning, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy it. It was amusing for something to be muted by the existence of the water, and also interesting to listen to the sounds that were magnified.

T’lar resurfaced a few seconds later with water streaming from his hair, which was now plastered to his skull, and blinked his eyes vigorously, clearing the water from them. Water always blurred his vision. It was annoying, and T’lar didn’t like annoying things. Rubbing his left eye with the back of his hand, T’lar grinned to himself. See, this wasn’t so bad. Taking a bath was nice, despite the fact that he didn’t bathe all that often, considering he didn’t really have time. That wasn’t his fault, though. Taking care of Fee, Akal, and Meggo was a full time job, mostly, it was Fee, though. Fee was always demanding an oiling or for T’lar to take him out to the lake so he could have a bath or other stupid things like that. T’lar couldn’t understand what made his lifemate tick at times, but enough of that.

Shaking himself back to the real world, T’lar glanced around for his sweetsand. Where’d he put that thing, anyways? His hair needed a good scrubbing, and the rest of him was feeling rather grimy as well. How long had it been since he’d had a bath? Too long, anyways, and he didn’t feel like searching around for extended periods of time just to find some sweetsand that he could easily get some more of in less than five minutes.

T’lar turned around, ready to ask his bathmate if he had any spare sand, when he noticed a wave of water headed right for his face. He would’ve dodged if it hadn’t been such a surprise, as it was, he just remained dead still in the water, letting the water that had been tossed at him hit his face. He hadn’t even thought to blink, let alone hold his breath, which left him coughing and sputtering as he inhaled water.

Water dripped down his face, and T’lar raised an absent hand to scrub at his eyes vigorously. It didn’t help much, but now, at least, he could see. Some, anyways. T’lar kept rubbing at his eyes, frowning as the blurry form of . . . L’am came into focus, bucket held in the other boy’s hands.

”Y-yeah?” There was no hiding the shock in T’lar’s voice. Okay, being splashed like that had startled him, and he hadn’t been very happy for the few seconds that he’d been struggling for air. Another reason why he hated water, right there. He couldn’t breath it.

[purnip]

L'am feigned embarrassment, looking away while his hands fiddled with the rim of the bucket. On the inside he was laughing so hard that it was a wonder none of that amusement slipped out, but alas, the boy was very disciplined in the act of concealing his true feelings. He had to admit, he expected T'lar to be a lot angrier. He was fully expecting to be shouted at the very least. That was what made the laughter so much easier to hold; L'am was hardly ever wrong about anyone. He would have looked to see if something was physically preventing the other Weyrling from verbally attacking, but he was too busy pretending to be embarrassed. So far, the ability to make himself red in the face was still out of his league, so he had to settle for disjointed sentences.

"Wow, um. I'm sorry man. I thought you were sneaking up on me." He paused to sharply look up, feigning the desperation to correct himself. "No! I mean, not you, but someone. You know what I mean?" He looked away again, this time with his face hidden away well enough to let a smirk escape. No, he didn't think T'lar would buy any of that, but it was worth a try.

Come to think of it, the plan was foolish in its own right. He wanted to be entertained, and he got what he wanted, but matters would have been a lot more interesting if he was right about the reaction he would have received as well. So it wasn't a bad plan; it was simply mediocre. Next time he would have to find entertainment that lasted, rather than the cheap inner laugh that this presented. For whatever reason, he found that T'lar was one of his better targets though. He had the sort of personality that made any humor in his expense worth any trouble at all.

He took a big gamble before the Hatching to make a rival out of him though. L'am believed that if anyone had a shot at Impressing a King, it would have been T'lar. Granted, that was exactly what the other boy wanted, and on the Sands nobody ever really got the color they expected to get. What L'am had expected...well, he couldn't say. He was worried that he wouldn't Impress at all. He didn't think about his strengths as the day drew close--only of his weaknesses. As for T'lar, he was probably expecting to make waves. If he wasn't destined to do so however, he wouldn't have Impressed a Sub-King either. Fortune still smiled upon a Purplerider with ambition. Or perhaps what T'lar thought he wanted was not at all what he truly desired.

L'am had always known from the start that he wanted to be a foundation. He wanted to be essential to the grand scheme of things to the degree of leaving people crippled when he is absent for too long. He felt all the more significant the closer he inched to this go, therefore more comfortable. Now that he thought about it, his Impression to a Bronze made more sense, but that didn't mean a Green wouldn't have been just as necessary. A weyr of kings couldn't go all that far in Threadfall, from what he has heard of it. Greens and Blues used to have the upper hand as they swiftly blew out the falling scorchers with an agility that Browns and Bronzes couldn't compare to. That is what they say at least in the legends of old. Since the last Threadfall, more colors have evolved from the first six. Now there were about a dozen colors to a dragon's hide.

The whole point was that the gamble he took didn't leave him with regrets. T'lar could still pose a threat in the future, but at the moment L'am had little to lose. It would be soon enough that he would have more a burden to bear; such was life. Such was his desire. No one would be able to shake him, not even the Purplerider he decided to pick on for amusement.

There was little actual cruelty involved in his action, nor would there ever be all that much in the future, that L'am could tell. Water never hurt anyone. Or innocent embarrassment. He put the bucket down on the water and it tipped over, slowly filling with water until only part of it bobbed on the surface. He didn't look back at T'lar and decided to keep up his charade only to see what he could get out of it. "I'm sorry. Since the battle I haven't been the same," he muttered, sounding genuine in his apology.

[theknightwhosaysni]

L’am’s voice jolted T’lar out of his reverie, forcing his thoughts from that of how unjustly cold the water was that still streamed down his face, though the flow was tapering off into a dribble here and there, to the fact that the bronzerider was speaking to him. ”uh….” what would be a good thing to say here? T’lar had recovered enough from the shock to realize that the bronzerider sounded more than a little paranoid. Well, that wasn’t all that strange. Everyone was paranoid nowadays, with the renegades being taken into the weyr and the dragons fighting dragons thing. ”Not exactly.” still feeling extremely startled and rather out of it, T’lar only barely when the bronzerider turned his face away from him, and T’lar frowned slightly. He was probably just embarrassed, though, and T’lar couldn’t blame him. Maybe one he was thinking straight he could take proper revenge for this. Sure, it had probably been an accident, but a scare like that needed punishment.

Oh well. Maybe later he’d reconsider what he’d just thought, but for
now, T’lar just wanted a safe place to vent and plan, and that was inside his own head. He’d just gotten soaked by water (not that he hadn’t been wet already, but that was beside the point) and that wasn’t cool, accidental or not. One of these days, L’am needed to be put in his place. Just because he’d Impressed a bronze didn’t mean that L’am was better than T’lar was… Wait, maybe it did. Well, at least T’lar had Impressed Fee, who was better than any bronze could be. He might not have any evidence to back it up, but one of these days, he’d pull it off and prove that he could still be the best, even if he only rode a Sub-King. Sub-Kings were powerful dragons, though, so anyone who said otherwise about Fee was foolish. After all, Sub-Kings flew Queens every once in a while, and Fee could catch a Queen, because he was the best Sub-King ever.

T’lar nodded his head, ”It’s fine, L’am.” he wasn’t as good at hiding his emotions as the bronzerider, but he was trying to hide his annoyance. Whether or not he succeeded, he wasn’t sure, so T’lar’s eyes followed L’am’s expression carefully. "I don't think any of us are the same." A lot of things had changed, and old beliefs had been shattered.

ooc:|| Sorry it fails. My muse died halfway through it, and it hasn’t come back. *stabs muse*

[purnip]

For as inexperienced as T'lar was in holding back his annoyance, L'am was just experienced enough to detect it. Of course, a man like this Purplerider before him would start to feel that way. No other option was quite available in his pool of reaction. T'lar was a proud man, and that L'am knew at a glance, from the first day they had met at the Bowl. Proud men didn't know how to have fun if their own dignity would be harmed in any way, shape, or form.

He had been slowly moving back towards the edge of the pool and slid down so he could keep himself comfortably situated and relaxed with most of his body underwater. Though he had been bathing for about ten minutes, he didn't wish to leave right away. A part of him wanted to evoke that anger out of T'lar, just to fill that empty void where his shouting ought to have been. It would have made L'am just feel worlds better to be reassured that he knew this man to a 'T'. But it wasn't going to happen anytime soon was it? Maybe that Purple of his had changed him somehow. Maybe he was just a little more serious himself because of the fighting. It was silly then to press on. He gave T'lar a glance, as if hoping to say that he wasn't abusing any power he might have had. His expression was dead-panned, as if he had just told a joke that the flew over the other Weyrling's head.

"It's rather obvious, isn't it? If I had done something like that before the Hatching, I would have hardly had an excuse, but you still would have reacted differently before I got around to explaining it," he went on. This time, the tone of his voice bore traces of his disappointment. He barred himself from giving his opinion further on the matter, lest he would have said something that wasn't in his place to say. L'am was annoyed as well, thoroughly, and he hid most of it only because he was willing to have that bit come across. It'd leave T'lar confused if he had shown too much; after all, he had just gotten through apologizing.

But where he was really going with this was the punchline. A joke gone dull was a sad creature to watch dying. "But no T'lar, I wasn't really wary of you. Is it that difficult to believe that someone like myself wouldn't appreciate having a little fun once in a while? Even at someone else's expense? I didn't throw acid at you, or a bucket of tar, in front of a crowd." L'am gave a sigh, but he wasn't worried what T'lar might have to say to him after this. He could back up anything he said for as long as there was any breath left in him, even a lie. He felt no guilt for any of his actions because he planned them so carefully that the results hardly ever came as a surprise. If they had, he'd admit it as long as no one was around to discredit him. "But I suppose you should be the angry one, not me."

L'am wasn't actually angry though, but he was just as disappointed as he let fly in the manner of his speaking. He started to watch that bucket he left behind bob on the water, dangerously close to sinking but never quite capable of doing so.

[theknightwhosaysni]

He felt vaguely as if he was being measured up to something, and falling far short. It made T'lar want to lash out angrily, blaming it all on someone else, preferably L'am. He didn't like feeling like he was falling short, and L'am tended to make him feel like he was whenever he was around the other Weyrling. He prickled indignantly at the silence, the urge to lash out growing as the other Weyrling let the silence grow longer.

L'am glanced at him; he glared back. He didn't care about hiding his anger anymore. T'lar was getting tired of feeling as if he were inferior than the idiotic Bronzerider in front of him. Sooner or later, he would prove himself to be better than L'am, and he'd stop feeling insecure around the bronzerider.

His eyes narrowed as L'am began talking. Did he dare imply that this was his fault or something like that? Just because he hadn't flipped out, everyone (okay, L'am) was acting all weird and stuff. "Maybe, maybe not." anger ran in a barely disguised current through his voice. Picking a fight with L'am would not be the brightest thing he'd ever done, but he was quite ready to do so, "But you don't know, because you didn't do it before." He narrowed his eyes a little more. Why did he get the feeling that L'am was making fun of him or something like that?

"Um... Wary...?" T'lar was more than a little confused at this point, but still annoyed. Very annoyed, in fact. Honestly, one of these days, L'am would get all of his teeth knocked out of his mouth, and T'lar would send who ever had done it flowers. "And why exactly are we discussing fun?" T'lar snorted, "I was under the impression we were discussing me getting splashed by a bucket of water." T'lar rolled his eyes indignantly. What was with this idiot getting off-track like he was?

Honestly...

"No, you didn't. However, I happen to dislike water almost as much as I dislike tar or acid." T'lar glared at L'am, eyes narrowing furiously. By the shard, what was going on?

"Glad to hear you admit that much..." T'lar rolled his eyes, biting back a more annoyed retort. L'am was a bronzerider, and outranked him easily, so he wasn't going to pick a fight.

Yet, anyways.

[purnip]

He didn't expect to make a lot of sense to the other boy, but he didn't care about that either. L'am was getting bored of T'lar and quite frankly it was no longer any fun to poke at him.

L'am was actually becoming ashamed of his decision to toy with the fellow. If T'lar had been a 'friend', and he wasn't, he would have lightened up, wagged a finger, and the two of them would have forgotten about the prank seconds later. It wasn't an act of war. People were being too high strung by this dragon battle and as serious as it was, it wasn't the problem of newly christened Weyrlings. Sure, they'd have lessons to learn hereafter that their predecessors didn't need to review, but this was a matter for leadership. Though this particular Weyrling and even the boy across from him may be destined for leadership someday, they needed to properly assess this tragedy from where they stood now. No need to jump to the front when you're not ready. L'am was willing to take his time and earn the trust of others as a Weyrling first. It never hurt to play carefully. Then later, when it was their problem, they'd be ready to deal with it.

But this wasn't a careful act. It evolved solely from boredom. Still, L'am wasn't the sort of person to admit defeat, stubborn as he could be about his decisions. He wasn't wrong anyways. T'lar was. It was just a bucket of water and a friendly prank. If he couldn't handle it, perhaps that said more about what he couldn't handle. The Bronzerider was testing him. L'am never made a move without purpose. Yes...that's right...

So he didn't look taken aback by T'lar's retort. He only watched with his dead-pan expression as he let the other kid rant away. Meanwhile his foot stretched towards the bucket that bobbed on the surface to push it around a little. It spun slowly and he thought carefully before replying, letting T'lar have his moment of silence in between to vent. Though it was anger L'am was initially going for, it was an emotion he wasn't fond of contending with. Even examiners were put to the test in this fashion. He did glance up sharply once T'lar trailed off, obviously retaining a more biting response than what he had given so far. L'am could sense a great rage building up in the other boy, but he held it so tight to himself that the Bronzerider couldn't help but admire it. Even a hothead like this one could practice some self control. L'am smirked. The Purplerider probably wanted to see him hurt. He almost wanted T'lar to walk on over and punch in him the jaw. It would have validated everything. Now L'am felt like he had a debt he needed to pay somehow. He could probably pull it off if he held T'lar's buttons down hard enough. He began to chuckle.

"You're a liar," he said, not even looking in the Purplerider's direction. "You wouldn't be soaking in the bath if you disliked water. You wouldn't be swimming at the lake if you disliked water. So tell me..." He now rose his head, tilted in mock curiosity and asking a question that he already knew the answer to. "What do you really hate?"