There were depths in this man, Xhinna realized, that Fiona, with her blunt enthusiasm, would never have seen, never even have known were there, desperate for nurture. In far too many troubling ways, this man was like Taria in male form: one of the natural parents and caregivers that nurture all those around them. She could see how V’lex, surrounded by desperate males, all lonely and far away from their home and even their own time, would have been willing, eager even, to provide all the comfort he could. It was part of his nature: He would give without question if it provided ease to others.
Fiona had once remarked that she couldn’t understand why he was so popular. Xhinna could understand that now. The Weyrwoman operated by demanding and receiving adoration and admiration; she loved everyone and expected love in return, thrived on it. It just wasn’t in her nature to yield to the demands of others—she simply wasn’t made that way.
And because she wasn’t made that way, and also, Xhinna admitted, because Fiona had been so young and uncertain in herself, she couldn’t have seen where V’lex should have behaved differently. Fiona probably did not even realize what he had done to this day, merely assuming that the green rider was happy because he was in such high demand, just as she was happy in the same situation.
V’lex was also somewhat like Mirressa: a person who simply could not say “no” even if it was in her best interest. And so his time in Igen had cemented him in the role of the butt of jokes, the first to come running and the last to leave. When the old Igen riders had joined the Weyr, they had naturally attracted those most like them. It must have been a huge relief for V’lex to have someone else—T’rennor, for example—suffer as he had, glad of the attention, miserable with the shame.
If it hadn’t been for J’keran’s attentions to Taria, Xhinna would not have noticed, leaving the fighting dragons to X’lerin. X’lerin wouldn’t have noticed because, untrained, he had to accept J’keran’s authority within his wing. Without malice or anger, she wondered idly if V’lex might have indirectly launched the brown rider in Taria’s direction. Not that it mattered—J’keran, so drained by the repeated Falls and the losses, would have gravitated toward Taria, someone much like V’lex in nature, someone who would satisfy his desire to mold and dominate. As much as J’keran and the others had created V’lex’s behavior, the green rider’s behavior had affirmed J’keran’s; the two were like poles of a magnet, tilting the one always away from what attracted the other.
However, with J’keran gone, V’lex began to chart his own course, the course that led him closer and closer to T’rennor and the green that would clutch at the same time as Coranth. In some ways, the old friends—V’lex and J’keran—had become rivals.
V’lex was breaking with tradition.
“Have you started scouting for Hatching Grounds?” Xhinna asked, leaping to the next logical conclusion. V’lex straightened in surprise. “It’s what I would have done,” she told him calmly, glad to see that she’d guessed rightly that he was looking on the sly. “It’s what I did—until Coranth took the option out of my hands.”
“I haven’t found any place better than Coranth’s,” V’lex admitted. He glanced into Xhinna’s eyes and held her gaze. “It’s not very good, is it?”
“And that’s why you were wondering about that egg?” she guessed, referring to the egg that she and J’keran had battled over. The green rider nodded.
“If those eggs hatch,” V’lex said, “T’rennor will have a different chance than I did.” He paused for a moment, giving Xhinna an opening to question him, but she knew what he meant—that T’rennor would be able to be more than a mere green rider: He would have the chance to be parent to dragonets and weyrlings.
“T’rennor already has a different chance,” Xhinna told him staunchly. V’lex looked startled. “He’s got you, green rider. That gives him an example that I doubt you ever had.”
V’lex considered her words and his stance altered, became more upright and decisive. Yes, a different man, Xhinna mused. I was wrong to judge him. “So, green rider,” she asked, holding out her hand, “are you ready to break more traditions?”
A smile slowly spread across his face. He reached for her hand and then, with a graceful pull, brought her into a tight hug. Emotion warped his voice as he spoke firmly into her ear, “Yes, Wingleader, I am.”
“Good, then here’s what I want you to do,” Xhinna said, hugging him tightly before pushing back so that she could meet his eyes.
“What, Wingleader?”
She told him. She was careful in her explanation and blunt in her language, causing him to blush at least twice.
“Just as hard?” V’lex asked when she’d finished.
“Harder,” Xhinna said emphatically. “I want no one to think you were kindhearted.”
“But—”
“You’re going to ride Fall with them, so do what you must, green rider,” Xhinna said firmly.
“J’keran—”
“Isn’t here,” Xhinna reminded him. “And he rides a brown. So he doesn’t understand about blues and greens.”
V’lex’s eyes lit and he nodded emphatically. “No, Wingleader, he certainly doesn’t!”
“I’ll let X’lerin know.”
“And the boy?” V’lex inquired. “J’riz?”
“Certainly the boy,” Xhinna said. “He rides a green; he needs to know.”
“So that’s four greens and two blues?” V’lex asked, verifying the numbers.
“Danirry will have to catch up, she’s off with R’ney on survey,” Xhinna said. “But I expect you to schedule that with her, don’t let her shirk.”
“She’s the scrawny one, isn’t she?”
“She was starved and sold the last thing she had for food,” Xhinna told him.
“Did they catch the man?” V’lex asked, his features suddenly hard, his hand going to his belt knife. Xhinna’s respect for him rose another notch.
“No,” she replied with the same set expression. V’lex noted it and for a moment they stood reevaluating each other, finding the defensive, guiding parent that was part of the core of each of them.
“You’d’ve taken care of him if they had,” V’lex said, loosening his grip on his knife and smiling at Xhinna.
“Justice is now in letting her heal, letting her see that not all men take,” Xhinna said.
“I’ll bear that in mind.”
“She’s got a strong will and a good heart, green rider,” Xhinna said.
“And she looks manly,” V’lex said, as though it were a compliment. He nodded to himself. “She’ll ride her blue well, she’s got a good conformation.”
“She’s not a dragon, V’lex!” Xhinna said in exasperation. “It’s ‘physique’ you mean.”
“Physique, then,” V’lex said. “I’m not all that good with words.”
“Well,” Xhinna said to ease any hurt feelings, “she might prefer conformation to physique.”
“She might at that,” V’lex agreed. He smiled at the wingleader, adding, “And, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll try to make her ‘physique’ more womanly—put enough weight on her bones that she won’t be pulled off her dragon by the first sack of firestone tossed her way.”
“Do that, please.”
“So we’re going to have V’lex and T’rennor instruct the blue and green weyrlings,” Xhinna concluded the next day when she met with X’lerin.
“And with them involved with the blues and the greens, they’re not likely to think of running off to J’keran,” X’lerin said, nodding in approval.
“I don’t think V’lex is likely to throw in with J’keran now,” Xhinna said.
“Why don’t we find them?” W’vin asked. “They can’t be too far if they’re stealing from us.”