Linden, D'ren


D'ren takes his son to Southern to drop him off for Candidacy.


It is afternoon of the tenth day of the twelfth month of the first turn of the 12th pass.

OOC Date


Leaving Igen to return to Ista wasn't that big of a deal for Linden. After all, he's made this trip many times before. It was loading his bags onto Aikuonath for his trip to Southern that had his throat closing a bit. Looking up at his father balancing on Aik's golden foreleg and strapping in one of his bags, Linden cleared his throat.


"Yeah?" D'ren looked down at him with a small smile.

"Am I doing the right thing?"

One thing he always loved about his father was that D'ren was never too busy to talk to him. Even now, with everything going on, D'ren finished tying on the bag and jumped down, pulling Linden onto Aik's offered foreleg.

"Do you think you are?"
Always answering a question with a question. Linden rolled his eyes as he settled beside his father, reaching down to stroke the bronze dragon's soft hide. He had to think about it though. "I do. I mean, I've always loved dragons, wanted to be a dragonrider, but…I never really hoped for it you know? Because you never know. But Thread…" He trailed off, sighing.

D'ren put his arm around his son, his only child. "Thread is scary," he finishes that unspoken thought. "But it's an honorable job to have. It's a hard one, but having a dragon of your own. Linden, there's nothing like it. It's worth it. It's all worth it." He gave his son's shoulders a firm squeeze.

Linden leaned against his father's side and took a deep breath. "I just don't want you and Mom to be worried about me."

To his surprise, his father laughed. It was quiet, but it was still laughter. Genuine. "Son, we're worried about you no matter what you do. You go to the Bazaar and we worry about you. This is nothing new." He was trying to reassure his boy. He didn't want to hinder his son's dreams with his fears, even though in reality his heart was beating extremely painfully in his chest. His son. His only son. His only child that survived long enough to be born. How many miscarriages had his mates had? He'd stopped trying, convinced the error was with him. Taking his redstuff was a ritual, a promise to himself that he'd conceive no more children destined to be lost.

His only child.

Linden smiled. "Thanks, Dad." Standing, he climbed up into Aikuonath's straps and buckled himself in.

D'ren followed suit, buckling in. "Ready?"


The large bronze dragon spread his wings and kicked off into the sky with a rumble. A few moments passed, hanging there on the air currents while Linden took a moment to look down at Ista. Home, for the last few turns. Then he closed his eyes and counted while Aikuonath took them between.


Emerging over Southern Weyr, the bronze circled down to land, folding his massive wings and moving aside. Unbuckling, D'ren and Linden both climbed down and removed the teen's few bags. When they were all down on the ground, D'ren turned to his boy with another smile. "Ready?"
Linden looked around nervously, swallowing. "I think so. I've got to find someone named Ardstelle."

D'ren hesitated. "You want me to help you?"

Looking up at his father, Linden smiled a bit. "I think I should do it on my own, Dad."

D'ren's heart clenched again but he smiled and nodded. "Atta boy. C'mere." Hauling him against his body he enveloped his child into a tight, fierce hug.



"Are you going to be okay?"

D'ren's arms tightened, his whole body tensing. He was silent for a long moment and Linden didn't dare look up at him. He didn't want to see tears in his father's eyes. "I'll be fine, son," D'ren finally said, leaning back to look down at him. His eyes were clear, his smile gentle. "Don't worry about me, alright? I'll be fine. You'll be fine. And we're still a family, no matter what. You write, and I'll come visit every seven, okay? Your mother too, when she's able."

Linden nodded, swallowing around the lump in his throat. "Okay," he said softly, hugging his father fiercely again. He held it for a long time, the weight of the Candidate knot pulling down on his shoulder. His father, as always, let him decide when the hug was over and he straightened, letting him go.

"I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, son. Be good."

Reaching out, D'ren tried to ruffle Linden's hair, but the teen batted his hand away and moved forward, standing on his tiptoes to try and ruffle D'ren's hair in return. It was a ritual, and an old one, each of them attempting to ruffle the other's hair. It usually turned into a full on wrestling match (which so far D'ren had always won) but this time it ended in another fierce hug before they let each other go.

Aikuonath wuffled softly to the boy and Linden gently touched his muzzle, smiling when Aster chirped and hopped down from her perch on the bronze's headknobs to curl up on his shoulder. His father's firelizards were there too, Coral and Dolph and the others. Linden smiled at them all and bent to pick up his bags.

"I'll see you soon," he said to his father.

"I love you," was D'ren's reply.

Turning, Linden headed off towards the main part of the weyr, and D'ren watched him go.

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