Hatchings were always disappointing if you were one of those left standing in the dust that settled when the final dragon made their selection. Kahbrohm had learned and steeled himself with the knowledge that it wasn’t personal and it wasn’t that there was something wrong with him. Certainly, his ego was so strong in all his perfection that he would simply soldier on until the next time to await a dragon that saw greatness. But this hatching had been different. His temper, an ever nebulous thing, had finally come to strain against mere threads when he’d seen the green that had come crawling to him of all people.

Dehka had impressed…..and Kahbrohm was left standing.

When he left the sands, it was with the step of a man like he’d been told to kill someone who was only feet away and he had a knife in his hand on the approach. There would be a feast later, certainly, but his appetite was completely lost to him. He’d not be the only one who wrestled with complicated feelings in the wake of seeming rejection, but his less had to do with disappointment and everything to do with a twisting, ugly, feeling in his chest. It was one he had wrestled with his entire life and it had never quite become something shining and comfortable.

So while it was cold out and others were at least getting ready for the celebrations, Kahbrohm threw on more appropriate clothing for the late night chill and stormed out of the barracks to do something that was like walking his feelings off.

All roads seemed to lead him to where his father’s dragon still rested amongst the others who had been injured. While Meigth already knew of the news, he’d not been able to stir to go and see and the boy’s feelings were all but laid bare before the bronze. Had it been his other human son in distress, he’d have leaned forward to offer gentle nudges and touches that would soothe those sensitive feelings the young man had. But it was Kahbrohm, and those twisting, volatile moods would flare up even more under sympathy and commiseration.

Your father would like it if you at least went to the Feast for him. Meigth informed him clinically, making sure to not let any of the worry that was coloring his bond with N’ori leak through, even as he privately informed his rider that the first of his two sons was currently preparing to hit a point of critical meltdown, if not already boiling over.

Kahbrohm’s face twisted into an ugly sneer at Meigth’s words. “Well there are things I’d like and can’t have so he can deal with it.” he nearly snapped back, shoving his hands into the pocket of his jacket. If anything was actually keeping him warm, it was the absolute boiling underneath his skin - despite the best efforts of a winter’s night to cool it off.

Meigth’s eyes, a steady calm blue, whirled faintly with orange just below the surface. While he - and not entirely by extension of his N’ori - did love the boy, this was one of those things he disliked in him. He was better than his fowl moods and this one was increasingly unbecoming.

Your brother would have arranged the entire Feast himself if it had been you.

Meigth didn’t temper his words with anything that would dampen the absolute blow it was going to inevitably be.

It was like being slapped in the face, despite how matter-of-factly it was said, in fact, and Kahbrohm almost physically reeled from the comparison before he gathered himself back up to shout at the bronze - “And I would ha-”

“There are injured dragons trying to heal here, Kahbrohm.”

N’ori’s voice was level as he spoke up, reaching out to pull his enraged son into his chest in some mockery of a hug, holding firm as the boy flailed and struggled against it before seeming to deflate into it. If it was possible to feel rage through the skin, N’ori was sure he would have felt it radiating from every pore of his son’s body.

He hadn’t calmed in the least, but his father’s words did drag Kahbrohm’s awareness of where he was back to him as he looked around to other dragons who had lifted their heads to see what all the noise had been about - and he even had the grace to be ashamed of having disturbed the rest that these fighting dragons deserved.

“Fine. I’ll go somewhere else,” Kahbrohm stated decisively, waiting to be released so he could take his leave.


But N’ori didn’t budge.


The fight that Kahbrohm had previously stamped down to wait out N’ori’s attempt to placate him came bubbling back up in full force and if N’ori had been holding his arms in place, he’d have likely gotten hit with the amount of thrashing that came.

“You’re not going to just hold this out of me, dad!” Kahbrohm hissed, his frustration boiling up like a feline that had been cornered.

N’ori frowned - a severe look on the man’s often cheerful face. “Then we’ll be here for a while.” It was a decisive statement. But even a man N’ori’s size couldn’t simply bear-hug someone of Kahbrohm’s build into submission forever and when he finally wiggled an arm free he applied it to the one place he was certain would make his father release him - right into his nose.

Meigth riled with alarm - as did N’ori - who had never gotten into more than a friendly wrestling brawl with his son before and released him out of sheer surprise. If he’d had a clearer head, Kahbrohm would have also been surprised at himself for doing it. But the head that both man and dragon had been trying to keep from boiling over was now out of hand - and that explosive temper reared up into a follow up fist thrown at his father’s face now that he had his feet beneath him.

This one, at least, N’ori caught with an arm, forcing it off to a side before bringing his other hand swinging around to catch his son in the side, in that fleshy spot just beneath his ribcage. If Kahbrohm wasn’t running off of fury and adrenaline it would have put him down. But he was, and despite the pain it made sing through his body he brought his head slamming into the bronzerider’s chin so hard it briefly made his vision flash.

N’ori, however, was no so shaken and when he realized their not-quite-brawl (yet) was drawing attention, he raised a hand to wave it off: “It’s a friendly spar to let off post-hatching nerves - just got a little too into it!” he covered, and if asked about it later N’ori would repeat the same story firmly. His son was a good boy, if not incredibly rough in places that even his father couldn’t reach to polish.

Kahbrohm almost didn’t realize what his father was doing, his head ringing and the world swaying from the shaking he’d just given his brain. He swayed on his feet before N’ori caught him and tossed him bodily down into the snow, pressing all of his weight against his son’s back.

That aggressive desire to lash out boiled up again and N’ori held firmer this time than he had before, pressing his face against his son’s ear - “You’re going to calm down or we’re going to stay here all night.” he instructed fiercely.

Kahbrohm growled in his throat, face half pressed into the ground while his father and Meigth both loomed over him, shiny beacons of everything he wanted to be - and everything that Dehka got to be instead, like it had all been stolen out right from underneath him once again. Logically, he knew his absolute jealousy on all fronts when it came to his brother made no sense. But raw emotion didn’t try to make sense, and raw was all he had.

No matter how long N’ori kept him pinned, Kahbrohm’s will wouldn’t bend and the fire would never be entirely put out. It would simmer, like a soup that needed to be stirred often enough or it would simply burn or boil over like it just had. But his shoulders would eventually go slack under the pressure as he was forced into a position where his only real choice was to take deep breaths and at least calm himself a little.

N’ori knew that if logic and words were able to soothe over feelings, this long standing, one-sided, and baseless feud would have been settled long ago. But even Kahbrohm had never been able to tell him why his brother grated upon him in such a way and there were even times when the two seemed to get along well enough. But the right shake and everything would burn down to the ground as though there had been no progress in the first place.

Finally, N’ori let off the pressure so Kahbrohm could push himself up. He scrunched his nose, pinching it between his fingers to feel how bad of a hit it had been. Kahbrohm, for his part, was no less worse for wear, even if his head still rang enough that he would have probably preferred to lay down.

“You need a less solid jaw, old man,” Kahbrohm hissed, wiping his face when he felt the first trail of blood from his nose and realized he’d probably done just as much damage to himself - if not more.

N’ori dared a laugh, despite how completely not-meant-to-be-funny Kahbrohm’s tone was. “And let you break it? Never.” he snorted, though he was fairly certain he was going to want to have Nassiva take a look to make sure the boy hadn’t actually done any damage. He felt fine, but he knew how the healer felt about him making those sorts of calls.

Meigth dared a snort, leaning down to touch his nose first to his rider’s face, then down upon Kahbrohm’s aching head.

If you’re not going to the Feast, perhaps you should lay down for a while. There will be food later if you decide to wait. Meigth suggested - making a point this time to not bring up Dehka or baby dragon he’d apparently impressed and would very likely not be seeing himself until he was a bit more mobile.


Kahbrohm still saw it for what it was, however grateful he was that Meigth didn’t rub anymore salt into his proverbial wounds. At least not on purpose. “Yeah, well...I’d rather that than a Feast anyways…” he said, holding his head with one hand as he stepped past his father with a frown on his face.

While the temptation to say something was there, N’ori held his tongue as his son left back towards the candidate barracks. The fight had been nothing more than a lot of emotions and no purposeful harsh words had been passed back and forth between them. It would settle and his son was strong and would calm again soon enough. He’d simply never-Considered the opportunity they’d not impress at the same hatching.

Meigth was the only one of them that really had anything like a guess at what it was a dragon sought out or why one picked who they did or even what left someone lacking but - That is like telling you why your lungs know to move even when you’re not thinking about breathing. Meigth really had as much of a grasp of it as anybody else could have. But N’ori had no reason to worry about Kahbrohm’s future. It wasn’t the first time Kahbrohm had been ready to throw a fist out of some bottled up frustration that had finally burst free and as long as such instances got fewer and farther between, they could both wait out his chance together.

Keep tabs on him for me for the evening, will you? N’ori looked to his lifemate in silence and the bronze hummed. He likely doesn’t need it, but I’ll keep a headknob open in case that wasn’t the last of it.

And hopefully N’ori could enjoy celebrating the turn of good fortune for Dehka - and find out what name he’d chosen for himself and get a proper introduction to his young dragon.