Descent (Vignette)

This vig covers the time between Marella and Muireadhach being sent to Cold Stone Hold and Thea's death.

Before the twins were born, when her father was wreaking havoc in her life she’d considered giving up their child – what he’d hoped would be a son at that time, not that he didn’t love his girls. She’d considered giving their baby up to that man, that tyrant, to save her brother. He was her family though and that was the only reason D’had hadn’t gutted him when he’d had the chance.

He’d promised her. On more than one occasion he’d made that promise. A promise that he’d never up and leave her. They’d had their ups and downs over the turns, perhaps a few more rough patches than some and more than either of them would like to admit most likely, but they’d managed to be a family those eleven turns.

And then one day the world shattered – the night she told him what she’d done. The twins, their children, his son and daughter… she’d sent them both to the one man she knew he hated. She’d sent them to comply with the conclave. Sent them without consulting him and now it was too late.

He could have saved them. They could have gone anywhere. He could have fought for them. But they were already gone and there was nothing he could do now. If he went after them now he would be a murder or dead, perhaps both. That wasn’t something he’d put upon his children. And so he did what he always did to ease the pain. He drank.

Like that first flight of Seryth’s after the twins were born he drank to get away from the hurt in his heart and like that night she’d left him. The weyrbarn empty save for his thoughts and Siebith’s and the whiskey on his breath. Unlike that night eleven turns ago he didn’t go to her in the morning. This time she had hurt him and it hurt all the more, like a knife through the heart, because he loved her. He would always love her. It was all he could do to stay in Xanadu, to stay and keep that promise, and so he drank.

Every time he saw her he wanted her. Wanted to be in her arms and bury his nose in that sweet jasmine scent of her hair. Every time he saw her he thought of their children. The children that were taken away from him. He wouldn’t let her see him break, and so he drank.

A downward spiral he’d fallen into before. When he wasn’t on duty he was drinking. The first time was after he’d lost Tailea. Then he was asked to stand for Telgar’s clutch, Candidacy sobered him and his life mate, Siebith, kept him that way aside from the occasional drink with friends. He was young then, resilient, and there’d been Asher… He’d loved her with a fire and a passion. They bickered and quarreled at the drop of a hat but they worked. They made two beautiful girls. He’d loved her flight daughter like his own when the time came – not that there weren’t fights over that too. But in the end she left him taking the girls with her.

He’d transferred then. A new weyr. A fresh start. A place where his little girls wouldn’t see him drink. Somewhere they couldn’t see him flounder. He visited when he could, but they would never see him at his worst. And then there was Thea. Half his age and yet with time she could see through that gruff exterior he’d built up around himself. He’d loved her, with all his heart and soul. She’d pulled him out of that second spiral of self-destruction.

They’d had their ups and downs over the turns, perhaps a few more rough patches than some and more than either of them would like to admit most likely, but they were happy. He’d thought they were happy… and the she betrayed him. She did the one thing she’d promised never to do. She sent their children to her father.

Siebith was the one thing that kept him going. She was the one thing that kept him there. He sank deeper and deeper. Nothing to hold onto, nothing to pull himself up on, and when his children returned he was a changed man. A broken man, drown in whiskey. They shouldn’t see him that way, he didn’t want them to. And yet he stayed. For her he stayed. Though they hardly spoke he kept that promise to stay. He stayed and he drank watching his family pull away from him lost to love, foolish pride, and whiskey.

He knew, the moment the dragons keened for the loss of Seryth he knew she was gone too. He was wholly and utterly broken. There was no changing the past. That he knew but he could spare them his continued indigenty. Returning to Telgar with as little circumstance and announcement as possible – there at least he wouldn’t have to see his children’s disappointment in what he’d become.

There, where he and Siebith had become one so long ago, there without the constant reminders of the mess he’d made… Maybe there he could earn another chance. He didn’t drink that night –perhaps because he’d have to fly down and fetch it from the caverns or perhaps sheer willpower, but he didn’t. Instead he let clouded memories float to the surface and cried.

Time and space – two things that could perhaps heal old wounds.

Followed by Thinking of You

Add a New Comment
Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 License