Date   

Re: Gather: Tailor Stall (Attn: Bronwynn, Z'rain)

Aaron
 

Z'rain whistled.

"Six Turns, Faranth. He'll be a grown man before I know it, won't he? Well, I've got all day," he said. "If you're not ready to get rid of me, maybe I could see him after things wrap up here today?"

"I've been... OK," he continued. He was not sure he would ever be great, but seeing his sister helped. He should visit more. He would consider asking for a transfer if it would not mean giving up everything he had at Igen, too... "I'm happy to see you."

***

"I'm doing...actually pretty great! I had an amazing sale of a Gather dress not too long ago, not at this Gather, and...I even won a bit of marks on Hard Luck. I couldn't believe that he actually won!" Smiling, touching the fabric of her dress Bronwynn added "I've come up with a different type of fabric, one that's lighter and breathable but still a bit sturdy, meaning less likely to cause overheating in this heat if you layer the fabric, and it seems to be a bit of a hit too." Smiling, she added "Wysin's going to be so upset he missed seeing you, with me working the booth I didn't bring him to the Gather this early. He's 6 turns old now, I still can't believe it!" 

Pulling back a bit more, Bronwynn asked eagerly "But what about you? How have you been?" Even as she asked, she raked her eyes down his form remembering his question that had startled her. She did, indeed, recognize the outfit he was wearing as one she'd made...and it still *looked* in relatively ok condition, but it didn't hurt to get something *new* to wear either. 


Re: Gather: Tailor Stall (Attn: Bronwynn, Z'rain)

Rosiegirl
 

((OOC: Omg, I'm so sorry! I don't know how I missed this thread when doing all my others before!))

Hugging him tightly, smiling wide as she wrapped her arms tightly around him, it was several long moments before she loosened her arms and pulled back to reply. 

"I'm doing...actually pretty great! I had an amazing sale of a Gather dress not too long ago, not at this Gather, and...I even won a bit of marks on Hard Luck. I couldn't believe that he actually won!" Smiling, touching the fabric of her dress Bronwynn added "I've come up with a different type of fabric, one that's lighter and breathable but still a bit sturdy, meaning less likely to cause overheating in this heat if you layer the fabric, and it seems to be a bit of a hit too." Smiling, she added "Wysin's going to be so upset he missed seeing you, with me working the booth I didn't bring him to the Gather this early. He's 6 turns old now, I still can't believe it!" 

Pulling back a bit more, Bronwynn asked eagerly "But what about you? How have you been?" Even as she asked, she raked her eyes down his form remembering his question that had startled her. She did, indeed, recognize the outfit he was wearing as one she'd made...and it still *looked* in relatively ok condition, but it didn't hurt to get something *new* to wear either. 

On Sat, May 30, 2020 at 7:46 AM Aaron <cobalt.knight@...> wrote:
Z'rain laughed happily as he embraced his sister. It really had been too long. There really was nothing like seeing that smile.

"Hey, Bron. How have you been?" he asked her.

***

That gasp turned to an excited “Z’rain?!” and then a heartbeat later she was moving toward him.

A bright, happy smile on her face, Bronwynn rushed forward, dress swirling around her legs, to give her half-brother an enthusiastic hug. It had been so long since she’d seen him. 


Re: GATHER: Shopping is Good for the Soul (Attn: Dytha, Mendl)

Nutmeg
 

OoC: Sorry Laurie! This one didn't show up for me!

IC: Dytha had grimaced with a shudder. "Exactly, shells can you imagine if smashing open the eggs was the NORMAL thing to do?" She had visibly balked at the idea of Candidates dragging the malformed bodies of undeveloped hatchlings from their eggs. "And you know, I DID hear something like that!" she had exclaimed, her eyes darting from side to side as she leaned in a little conspiratorially. "I heard that when she tried to pick it up... it.... it's head came off! Just as she Impressed to it!" Now there was nightmare fodder and then some and immediately her mind had flashed with the image of Ilexeth's transparent body when she had opened the egg up. What might have happened if she had tried to pick her up?


On Thu, Jun 18, 2020 at 3:21 AM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
bump

On Sun, Jun 14, 2020 at 9:08 PM Laurie Hicks <laurie.lynne@...> wrote:
Mendl nodded vehemently. "Exactly. It's like how if you're dozing, and you feel like you've been in a dream for hours but find out you've only been asleep like 15 minutes or so. Mental time is different from physical time." She became pensive again.

"I'm glad we rarely have unhatched eggs. If it were common, I'm not sure that we could keep candidates from smashing eggs open." She shuddered. "And I don't want more people seeing what's inside there. We'd have a Weyr full of candidates having nightmares. Or," she raised her hand to her mouth in horror, "did you hear what happened Turns ago? Someone not even a candidate opened an unhatched egg and Impressed it, and the dragon died almost immediately after. They still say her ghost haunts the tunnels in the Caverns."

On Sun, Jun 14, 2020 at 12:48 PM Nutmeg <nutmeg.witch@...> wrote:
With it decided, Dytha gave Ponth a sharp mental nudge, waking her up from her doze entwined about Vukoth and asked her to meet them in the Weyrbowl. Not surprisingly, there was a lot of grumbling but with the promises that she was only needed for a very short time, the green conceded and she would be in the Bowl by the time they came out of the tunnels.

They had begun walking down the tunnels and Dytha had slowed their pace slightly as it was clear that Mendl was beginning to talk a little about what was on her mind. She had whistled a low greeting to Eyesis as she arrived, noting the unusual markings on the green's wings. "I know what you mean. This felt... unnervingly bigger. Especially when they started talking about concerns that should the truth ever get out, we would see scores of Candidates kicking unhatched eggs in the hopes of finding their lifemate alive inside." She had shuddered visibly at the thought only to give Mendl a thoughtful look as the other expressed her opinion.

"Honestly? That's exactly my thoughts on it. It's why I personally believe that Ilexeth chose Ambrelli. Because in that moment in time, Ambrelli was what Ilexeth needed to guarantee a better chance at survival. Because if it's all "the dragon knows" how is their Rider always in the Weyr? Why are they not at High Reaches, Telgar, shells even Fort." Dytha tossed a careful glance over her shoulder, well aware that their topic was treading into somewhat controversial areas and didn't want to upset any eavesdroppers. She'd already done that the day before. "I believe that there is a certain emotional... resonance they look for. Something that feels... compatible. A bit how we get a feel for people and decide if we like them or not. But ultimately, I think so much of it comes down to a very primal need to survive and they pick the one that they feel, feels as though will increase those chances. Even when it seems a poor personality match, the dragon seems to thrive on the conflict - that's still a sort of drive to keep going. I don't think it's some mystical thing that is how they know their Rider's name. My thoughts on it is that at the moment of Impression when the "dragon space" is made, through that connection is when they get their Rider's name, because they have taken it from the Rider's head even before that person is fully aware of what has happened. The dragon knows because they're seeking to make that survival connection."

On Sun, Jun 14, 2020 at 3:53 PM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
"No straps. It's not that far, and I trust Ponth." Mendl had been at the Weyr enough Turns that being a passenger on a dragon was almost second-nature. 

"Oh, I know. I...I haven't been sleeping well because of it. I think...I know we've dissected flit eggs, and those just didn't seem so close to home, even though I have Eyesis here." She rubbed her firelizard's neck when Eyesis decided to land on her shoulder. Her wings were spread so you could see the markings that looked like eyes on her wings. (ooc: think luna moth.) She was proud of those markings, and was also obscenely proud that she'd had unhatched eggs at one time to provide Mendl study material.

"But dragons. If superstition is to be believed, those babies were meant for someone. On the other hand, if this same superstition is to be believed, then maybe those dragons were meant for someone hundreds of Turns ago. Or hundreds of Turns in the future."  She shook her head. "I think baby dragons just pick whoever the best choice is from the Standing candidates. Or, in your case, whoever is closest when they Hatch." Again, rambling. And hopefully not hurting Dytha's feelings.

On Sat, Jun 13, 2020 at 5:04 PM Nutmeg <nutmeg.witch@...> wrote:
"Don't ask. I keep having to explain why he can never catch her - or at least, I don't think he can - I'm sure he must be much too big! But he's just as infatuated with her which doesn't help! Because Ponth keeps asking me why Vukoth can't possibly catch her." Dytha rolled her eyes as she gestured that they wander down the tunnel. "You all right with no straps if you hang onto me, or would you prefer something to tie you down? We can cut through into my weyr and take a few minutes to strap her up." 

She smiled but it wasn't quite there. "This past month has been something else, hasn't it? Shells, I didn't realise how much I wanted to go back to normal after those first couple sevenday. I feel like I could sleep for a month and still need a month more to rest."

On Sat, Jun 13, 2020 at 9:48 PM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
"Ponth? And a bronze? I hope it's a small one," Mendl said with a wince. Though so far none of the SEF greens had run into any mating-flight issues. She leaned up against the wall. "This month has been exhausting, hasn't it? I'm kind of glad I only have a firelizard to manage, I don't know how you managed with Ponth, too. Oh, and of course I'd like to ride her to the Gather. Much better than those bumpy carts." 

Mendl knew she was babbling, a habit she had when she was tired, stressed, ill, or all of the above. But it was also nice to have someone to talk to, and that also contributed to her babbling. 

"So? Ready to go?"

On Sat, Jun 13, 2020 at 12:27 PM Nutmeg <nutmeg.witch@...> wrote:
Mendl received another rare wink, the blue eyes behind it twinkling wickedly. "We've been too busy to catch up lately... but we have a lot to catch up on." Although a little younger than her, Mendl was still close enough in age and way of thinking that she enjoyed spending time with her. "I originally planned on having the evening to myself and enjoy having my evening's back without spending the night with an eye and ear awake for our new arrival." No, she hadn't begrudged the care she had been needed to assist with, but having spent a month on high alert had been emotionally exhausting. "But my plans changed and... I'm strangely excited for it! I think it's the first time I've ever done a Gather dance properly - you know, being asked and all."

She looked genuinely pleased to see Mendl and offered her arm companionably, groaning in delight at the food the other described. "Oh, shells - yes! I love those! I feel so greedy eating them but they are so worth it! I was going to hop on a wagon but I could give Ponth a nudge and quickly fly us over if you'd like! And I know she'd love to see you too. Ignore any grumbling about how terribly she's being treated by being taken away from the bronze she's laid claim to."

On Sat, Jun 13, 2020 at 4:20 PM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
"You have a date for the dance?" Mendl's eyes lit up. "How exciting! I'm still on the Rim about going to the dance." She shrugged. "I don't fancy anyone in particular, and there may be an emergency here." Actually, since Dytha had a date, Mendl wouldn't feel like she had to go to keep her company. Not that she actually did, but Dytha was her best friend. 

"I'm looking forward to the greasy fried cakes they have," Mendl admitted with a grin. "Bubbly pies are easy to come by anytime. It's the fried dough with the sweetening and ground klah-bark that's what I like." (aka either funnel cakes or elephant ears, depending on the batter and the frying method)




On Thu, Jun 4, 2020 at 5:34 AM Nutmeg <nutmeg.witch@...> wrote:
Dytha could see that the smile didn't quite touch Mendl's eyes and immediately felt a flash of concern. She had been thinking of the other girl over the past few sevendays, hoping she was doing as well as she could be after the Hatching. There was a double sided concern. Not only had she not Impressed but then she had had to be privy to what they had done. And whilst Dytha was an advocate of research and knowledge, something about it still sat heavy with her.

"I swear you must have been mind-reading," she said lightly and with a chuckle "I was headed out to find a dress for the Gather Dance this evening. Something to dazzle my date with. I could absolutely use a second set of eyes and there's always room for a ridiculous amount of Gather food." There was a cheerful wink and it was all extra effort to keep the mood light and airy. Dytha was never someone who had considered herself to be an exceptionally good people person, but something told her that her friend's spirits were perhaps a little low.

On Wed, Jun 3, 2020 at 1:50 AM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
Mendl smiled, though just barely. "Yeah, since Larsin...I mean Master Larsin was so generous with us, I wondered if you wanted to go shopping?" She was afraid she was sounding needy, but last night was rough and she needed a friend.

On Mon, Jun 1, 2020 at 9:56 AM Nutmeg <nutmeg.witch@...> wrote:
OoC: Realised I had made some plans on days 1 and 2 so setting this early of day 3 :)

IC: The past couple of days had been a whirlwind. Between the first day of the Gather and having agreed to work the second, Dytha had entirely forgotten that she hadn't bought a dress for the Gather Dance. Although admittedly, she probably hadn't even though she was going so it was no surprise that everything in her small closet just wasn't really suitable enough for something as fancy she would like. And with an extra mark in her pocket, Dytha realised she had an opportunity to do something she didn't get to do very often - blatantly indulge.

So as it happened, she was literally just stepping out of her weyr when she spotted Mendl coming up the tunnel. Ponth was dozing on her ledge and she had agreed to meet R'bor later in the day and today she was wearing something a little more simple - some lightweight shorts that finished just above her knee, a long, flowing tunic and her comfortable sandals. She looked tidy but not as dressed up as she had been - if only to be a little more practical for trying dresses on. "Mendl!" she exclaimed, smiling at the sight of the other Apprentice. "I didn't expect to see you here."

On Sun, May 31, 2020 at 1:17 AM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
Mendl had been having nightmares. Not screaming ones, but ones that woke her up with a jerk, or that if she did wake up, she couldn't get back to sleep. All these dreams featured dead embryos in eggs coming to life and chasing her calling, "Save me! No, save ME!" 

She knew that what had happened needed to be done. The look of relief on various faces when they determined it was the quake that killed the eggs and not the parentage was proof-positive of that.  And so what if one was still alive? She still was.

It still bothered her though.

But all that was the past. Over and done with. Now there was a Gather in town, and she had a good friend who would help her spend the mark she got from Master Larsin. Since said good friend also received the same amount from him, they could go on a fun shopping spree.

So, she walked up to Dytha's weyr to see if she and Ponth wanted to go shopping. And maybe she would talk to Dytha about her nightmares...



--
Nutmeg on the Wizzy.
Recluso#6042 on Discord

I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!



--
Nutmeg on the Wizzy.
Recluso#6042 on Discord

I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!



--
Nutmeg on the Wizzy.
Recluso#6042 on Discord

I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!



--
Nutmeg on the Wizzy.
Recluso#6042 on Discord

I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!



--
Nutmeg on the Wizzy.
Recluso#6042 on Discord

I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!



--
Nutmeg on the Wizzy.
Recluso#6042 on Discord

I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!


Re: A Candid Capture of Conversation (Tyne/Panagath)

Laurie
 

{{I can lift,}} Panagath said, taking her invitation to heart. Talking to her was similar to talking to another rider, but even he had to balance on that same cliff where Myrandith should be. But the cliff was also easier to balance on, because of the faire. They provided a buffer of sorts. He'd never talked to another Asymmetric before, so had nothing to compare it to, though he probably wouldn't have reason to. The closeness between his rider and her was what made him start to notice her, but she was also good to be noticed in her own right. He would probably talk to her even if R'zzon didn't wish to.

But that would never happen. He knew that without a shadow of a doubt.

{{I like those doors. Where are they?}}

On Tue, Jun 16, 2020 at 7:24 AM Nutmeg <nutmeg.witch@...> wrote:
It was a constant flicker of emotion and images moving back and forth. Whilst it was obvious that the likes of the greens and blues used a far simpler construct, it took on a significant degree of depth as it shifted from brown, to bronze, to gold - it all moved at a rapid pace but there was defined precision and purpose to it all as they merrily converse with the blue. They were very pleased, Bobbin in particular, with the care that Panagath's was taking with their mistress, flickering the waves of calm that the man's presence seemed to induce when he was around. 

Tyne chattered on, not completely paying attention to her fair's conversations with Panagath as she directed his attention to a secondary diagram of the same weyr but with a sketch of large wooden doors on the front. She was getting better at being the "eye of the storm" after her talk with K'ren. "Oh... Panagath..." The exclamation was small but brimming with emotion as the fair relayed the images as well as the blue's concerns. "... Thank you..." She wanted to reach out but didn't know if she could go that far. Immediately it was picked up on, that tinge of uncertainty flickered to the blue. "Small amounts are okay. I... I would really like to be better with you. I... think a couple of allowed voices might... help. Not seem so... hurtful. I'm... getting better at seeing it's not the same, that it doesn't come from the same place and you don't want to cause harm or... or intentionally remind me that Myrandith isn't here." There it was again, that deep seated twinge of sorrow that made her chest ache. Although its intensity didn't provoke such a visceral reaction anymore, its rawness still sent a spear of sharp pain through her heart. 

"Ironically, a bit of heavy lifting is exactly where I think I could use your help the most..." When she spoke again, albeit after a moment's pause to compose herself, Tyne deliberately moved back to the point. She wasn't going to sit and dwell. That was the whole point of this. Not sitting and dwelling. But actually doing.

On Tue, Jun 16, 2020 at 12:59 AM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
Yes, the faire had told him. He answered their questions; even told them when he was a weyrling not much larger than them he used to splash in the puddles all the time. For a short while, R'zzon had been known as 'Mudface". And if they told Tyne, so what? She could surprise him with that someday.

It was easy, carrying on two conversations at once. Another draconic trait; possibly having to do with Threadfall and needing to keep the faire--and the Weyr--safe. He'd never spoken to this many of the MiniKin at one time, or for as long, and was surprised at what others were missing out on. They weren't unintelligent; just a different type of intelligence. And one could learn a lot from them. But now, Asymmetric Rider requested his attention.

He looked at the plans, and was fed more information as to its structure, size, location and more minute details that she didn't have. That wall would need shoring up, because one of the MiniKin browns had seen some hairline fractures in the wall. The ledge wasn't necessary; but he knew of a place that had nice large flat rocks that the Stonecrafters had tossed away because they weren't good enough for the Holds. But they could be easily fitted together, to make a nice cobbled path.

He fed the images to the MiniKin, knowing they would relay them back to Tyne, along with a query of 'what can I help with?' He didn't mind talking to her, but he didn't want to overwhelm her with dragonvoice, either.


On Mon, Jun 15, 2020 at 5:17 AM Nutmeg <nutmeg.witch@...> wrote:
Like moving hands, the firelizards had scuttled into action, crawling over Panagath's hide as they set to work. Even as they set to work there was quiet inquiry made, like peculiar draconic small-talk, all through probing emotions and flashes of images. Was Panagath well? They did hope so. They liked him. They had been enjoying this sunny weather, had he liked it too? That downpour the other day was very peculiar, wasn't it?! They had gone and played in the puddles outside, did he like playing in puddles? It was cheerful, almost mindless chatter - much in the way a Healer would randomly babble about small topics of conversation whilst getting on with their work.

With voices like Panagath's, she was getting better. Maybe because it was because there were so many ways it was similar to R'zzon's. It was also low and calm, not big and energetic. Whenever the blue had entered her mind, rather than letting herself succumb to the panic it tried to rouse, she had made herself focus instead on where it "felt" it was in her head. And when she didn't fall headlong into the pit, she had realised that the blue's voice didn't try to fill Myrandith's space, more that it seemed to occupy a different area altogether. And that had prompted... something to shift. Something of a realisation. That the dragon voices didn't stake claim on empty space that wasn't theirs to take, more that they shifted to a different space connecting to it. Like the firelizard bubbles. When she had tried to explain it to the Mindhealers, it had been easier to draw a picture. 

As the soft and rumbling voice entered her thoughts, there was no visible flinch. She was getting better at not flinching. Better at quietly holding back the instinctive flush of panic that tried to rear up. It took a moment to steady herself, but she was calm. Settling on a large rock, her legs crossing comfortably, there had even been a small smile for Panagath. "Because I know the fair tells you everything, I'm sure they've told you about the project I'm working on. I'm helping to make a space for them. For all of them, when they're hurt, when theirs need some help understanding them. All sorts. But it is a space they can go and won't upset anyone," The smile had taken on a touch of wryness as she glanced at Panagath's whirling eyes. "Because we all know how loud they get when they're scared. So I've found a space for them!" The scroll was unfurled on the stone and Bobbin helpfully provided several small stones to hold the corners down.

The scroll was a mass of diagrams but she pointed to the one that was a sketch of the front of the dilapidated weyr she had claimed, the wall collapsed and exposing the interior of the weyr, the ledge broken but wide enough to be rebuilt into a pathway as it connected to steps down into the Weyrbowl. "This place! It needs a lot of work though..."

On Mon, Jun 15, 2020 at 1:56 AM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
Panagath greeted Tyne's firelizards like old friends. To him, they were friends--not overly chatty, but helpful and calming after a day of drills or Threadfall with R'zzon. It did surprise him, though, when the Asymmetric Rider greeted him. He liked her too, mostly because R'zzon liked her. But he also felt a touch of protection towards her. She used to be whole, but now she wasn't. Her symmetry was gone, though the firelizards were bringing a little of that symmetry back. 

They had told him once that she thought the dragons hated her because she lost that part of herself. They didn't hate her, most just didn't understand how it could happen, that she was here but the rest of her wasn't. He knew that if he lost his R'zzon part, he would join that part *between*. But for some reason, when she lost her Myrandith part, she hadn't been allowed to go with her. Dragons didn't understand why she wasn't allowed to go. Now Myrandith had to wait for Tyne to come join her. So, meanwhile, he would protect Myrandith's to the best of his ability.

She surprised him by talking to him without R'zzon around, but he didn't mind. He sat in front of her attentively and cocked his head after pointing out some spots on his back by his wingjoints that were itching him. {{I'm listening,}} he said, though he didn't want to scare her by talking to her too much. 



On Sun, Jun 14, 2020 at 1:04 PM Nutmeg <nutmeg.witch@...> wrote:

IC Date Reference: Set a few days post-Gather. IC date approximately 8.28.6.6.


She had met the Harper at the Gather, spending almost a full candlemark talking to him when she realised that she missed the Northern twang a lot more than she had realised and to her delight, hadn’t forgotten how to interpret the soft and lilting words. Tyne hadn’t been surprised that he had vaguely recognised her but deeply delighted that he hadn’t immediately turned into the nervous wreck that most people seemed to find themselves in when they realised they were talking to “that dragonless woman who used to be a Goldrider, but  now she isn’t and oh Faranth how do I address her?”


Initially it had started as a request for one of the candid sketches he was offering to do but after talking a while, Tyne had realised that it had the potential to be turned into something even better. She didn’t like the formally, painfully posed for portraits that she had done more than her share of at High Reaches, much preferring the more natural capture of someone who didn’t even seem aware that they were being watched. With much laughter and discussion, she had arranged that Harper Fenlyn would spend a day or so following her, capturing assorted sketches with the plan to turn one into a portrait. She already knew who it would be for.


And that was how she had spent the day with the man, always at a discreet distance as he followed her. He had been right, she would forget that he was there and after the initial awkward couple of candlemarks, she had continued about her day as though nothing was going on. Her win on both the runners and at the Harper Open had given her the marks to approach the Woodcrafters in the Weyr and had been enjoying a meandering stroll about the Lake when she had spotted a familiar bundle of deep blue hide. She had been getting far more comfortable about Panagath, desperately wanting to reach some level of acceptance by him and so, in a bid to make herself more confident in her dealing with him, had started on the idea of not treating the blue like a dragon, but rather, like another person. Talking to him like a person, even down the small talk such as asking how the weather was. 


The firelizards that had followed her in a small cloud had immediately swarmed to the blue, chattering in delighted greeting as they settled about him, many of them asking if they could help with any scratching he might need, or even any bathing if he so wished. And Tyne had followed, the large scroll tucked under her arm as she carefully approached him. “Might I bother you for an opinion, Panagath? I’ve got something I’d like to show you. I think I might need a little help, too.”



--
Nutmeg on the Wizzy.
Recluso#6042 on Discord

I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!



--
Nutmeg on the Wizzy.
Recluso#6042 on Discord

I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!



--
Nutmeg on the Wizzy.
Recluso#6042 on Discord

I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!


Re: GATHER: Shopping is Good for the Soul (Attn: Dytha, Mendl)

Laurie
 

bump

On Sun, Jun 14, 2020 at 9:08 PM Laurie Hicks <laurie.lynne@...> wrote:
Mendl nodded vehemently. "Exactly. It's like how if you're dozing, and you feel like you've been in a dream for hours but find out you've only been asleep like 15 minutes or so. Mental time is different from physical time." She became pensive again.

"I'm glad we rarely have unhatched eggs. If it were common, I'm not sure that we could keep candidates from smashing eggs open." She shuddered. "And I don't want more people seeing what's inside there. We'd have a Weyr full of candidates having nightmares. Or," she raised her hand to her mouth in horror, "did you hear what happened Turns ago? Someone not even a candidate opened an unhatched egg and Impressed it, and the dragon died almost immediately after. They still say her ghost haunts the tunnels in the Caverns."

On Sun, Jun 14, 2020 at 12:48 PM Nutmeg <nutmeg.witch@...> wrote:
With it decided, Dytha gave Ponth a sharp mental nudge, waking her up from her doze entwined about Vukoth and asked her to meet them in the Weyrbowl. Not surprisingly, there was a lot of grumbling but with the promises that she was only needed for a very short time, the green conceded and she would be in the Bowl by the time they came out of the tunnels.

They had begun walking down the tunnels and Dytha had slowed their pace slightly as it was clear that Mendl was beginning to talk a little about what was on her mind. She had whistled a low greeting to Eyesis as she arrived, noting the unusual markings on the green's wings. "I know what you mean. This felt... unnervingly bigger. Especially when they started talking about concerns that should the truth ever get out, we would see scores of Candidates kicking unhatched eggs in the hopes of finding their lifemate alive inside." She had shuddered visibly at the thought only to give Mendl a thoughtful look as the other expressed her opinion.

"Honestly? That's exactly my thoughts on it. It's why I personally believe that Ilexeth chose Ambrelli. Because in that moment in time, Ambrelli was what Ilexeth needed to guarantee a better chance at survival. Because if it's all "the dragon knows" how is their Rider always in the Weyr? Why are they not at High Reaches, Telgar, shells even Fort." Dytha tossed a careful glance over her shoulder, well aware that their topic was treading into somewhat controversial areas and didn't want to upset any eavesdroppers. She'd already done that the day before. "I believe that there is a certain emotional... resonance they look for. Something that feels... compatible. A bit how we get a feel for people and decide if we like them or not. But ultimately, I think so much of it comes down to a very primal need to survive and they pick the one that they feel, feels as though will increase those chances. Even when it seems a poor personality match, the dragon seems to thrive on the conflict - that's still a sort of drive to keep going. I don't think it's some mystical thing that is how they know their Rider's name. My thoughts on it is that at the moment of Impression when the "dragon space" is made, through that connection is when they get their Rider's name, because they have taken it from the Rider's head even before that person is fully aware of what has happened. The dragon knows because they're seeking to make that survival connection."

On Sun, Jun 14, 2020 at 3:53 PM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
"No straps. It's not that far, and I trust Ponth." Mendl had been at the Weyr enough Turns that being a passenger on a dragon was almost second-nature. 

"Oh, I know. I...I haven't been sleeping well because of it. I think...I know we've dissected flit eggs, and those just didn't seem so close to home, even though I have Eyesis here." She rubbed her firelizard's neck when Eyesis decided to land on her shoulder. Her wings were spread so you could see the markings that looked like eyes on her wings. (ooc: think luna moth.) She was proud of those markings, and was also obscenely proud that she'd had unhatched eggs at one time to provide Mendl study material.

"But dragons. If superstition is to be believed, those babies were meant for someone. On the other hand, if this same superstition is to be believed, then maybe those dragons were meant for someone hundreds of Turns ago. Or hundreds of Turns in the future."  She shook her head. "I think baby dragons just pick whoever the best choice is from the Standing candidates. Or, in your case, whoever is closest when they Hatch." Again, rambling. And hopefully not hurting Dytha's feelings.

On Sat, Jun 13, 2020 at 5:04 PM Nutmeg <nutmeg.witch@...> wrote:
"Don't ask. I keep having to explain why he can never catch her - or at least, I don't think he can - I'm sure he must be much too big! But he's just as infatuated with her which doesn't help! Because Ponth keeps asking me why Vukoth can't possibly catch her." Dytha rolled her eyes as she gestured that they wander down the tunnel. "You all right with no straps if you hang onto me, or would you prefer something to tie you down? We can cut through into my weyr and take a few minutes to strap her up." 

She smiled but it wasn't quite there. "This past month has been something else, hasn't it? Shells, I didn't realise how much I wanted to go back to normal after those first couple sevenday. I feel like I could sleep for a month and still need a month more to rest."

On Sat, Jun 13, 2020 at 9:48 PM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
"Ponth? And a bronze? I hope it's a small one," Mendl said with a wince. Though so far none of the SEF greens had run into any mating-flight issues. She leaned up against the wall. "This month has been exhausting, hasn't it? I'm kind of glad I only have a firelizard to manage, I don't know how you managed with Ponth, too. Oh, and of course I'd like to ride her to the Gather. Much better than those bumpy carts." 

Mendl knew she was babbling, a habit she had when she was tired, stressed, ill, or all of the above. But it was also nice to have someone to talk to, and that also contributed to her babbling. 

"So? Ready to go?"

On Sat, Jun 13, 2020 at 12:27 PM Nutmeg <nutmeg.witch@...> wrote:
Mendl received another rare wink, the blue eyes behind it twinkling wickedly. "We've been too busy to catch up lately... but we have a lot to catch up on." Although a little younger than her, Mendl was still close enough in age and way of thinking that she enjoyed spending time with her. "I originally planned on having the evening to myself and enjoy having my evening's back without spending the night with an eye and ear awake for our new arrival." No, she hadn't begrudged the care she had been needed to assist with, but having spent a month on high alert had been emotionally exhausting. "But my plans changed and... I'm strangely excited for it! I think it's the first time I've ever done a Gather dance properly - you know, being asked and all."

She looked genuinely pleased to see Mendl and offered her arm companionably, groaning in delight at the food the other described. "Oh, shells - yes! I love those! I feel so greedy eating them but they are so worth it! I was going to hop on a wagon but I could give Ponth a nudge and quickly fly us over if you'd like! And I know she'd love to see you too. Ignore any grumbling about how terribly she's being treated by being taken away from the bronze she's laid claim to."

On Sat, Jun 13, 2020 at 4:20 PM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
"You have a date for the dance?" Mendl's eyes lit up. "How exciting! I'm still on the Rim about going to the dance." She shrugged. "I don't fancy anyone in particular, and there may be an emergency here." Actually, since Dytha had a date, Mendl wouldn't feel like she had to go to keep her company. Not that she actually did, but Dytha was her best friend. 

"I'm looking forward to the greasy fried cakes they have," Mendl admitted with a grin. "Bubbly pies are easy to come by anytime. It's the fried dough with the sweetening and ground klah-bark that's what I like." (aka either funnel cakes or elephant ears, depending on the batter and the frying method)




On Thu, Jun 4, 2020 at 5:34 AM Nutmeg <nutmeg.witch@...> wrote:
Dytha could see that the smile didn't quite touch Mendl's eyes and immediately felt a flash of concern. She had been thinking of the other girl over the past few sevendays, hoping she was doing as well as she could be after the Hatching. There was a double sided concern. Not only had she not Impressed but then she had had to be privy to what they had done. And whilst Dytha was an advocate of research and knowledge, something about it still sat heavy with her.

"I swear you must have been mind-reading," she said lightly and with a chuckle "I was headed out to find a dress for the Gather Dance this evening. Something to dazzle my date with. I could absolutely use a second set of eyes and there's always room for a ridiculous amount of Gather food." There was a cheerful wink and it was all extra effort to keep the mood light and airy. Dytha was never someone who had considered herself to be an exceptionally good people person, but something told her that her friend's spirits were perhaps a little low.

On Wed, Jun 3, 2020 at 1:50 AM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
Mendl smiled, though just barely. "Yeah, since Larsin...I mean Master Larsin was so generous with us, I wondered if you wanted to go shopping?" She was afraid she was sounding needy, but last night was rough and she needed a friend.

On Mon, Jun 1, 2020 at 9:56 AM Nutmeg <nutmeg.witch@...> wrote:
OoC: Realised I had made some plans on days 1 and 2 so setting this early of day 3 :)

IC: The past couple of days had been a whirlwind. Between the first day of the Gather and having agreed to work the second, Dytha had entirely forgotten that she hadn't bought a dress for the Gather Dance. Although admittedly, she probably hadn't even though she was going so it was no surprise that everything in her small closet just wasn't really suitable enough for something as fancy she would like. And with an extra mark in her pocket, Dytha realised she had an opportunity to do something she didn't get to do very often - blatantly indulge.

So as it happened, she was literally just stepping out of her weyr when she spotted Mendl coming up the tunnel. Ponth was dozing on her ledge and she had agreed to meet R'bor later in the day and today she was wearing something a little more simple - some lightweight shorts that finished just above her knee, a long, flowing tunic and her comfortable sandals. She looked tidy but not as dressed up as she had been - if only to be a little more practical for trying dresses on. "Mendl!" she exclaimed, smiling at the sight of the other Apprentice. "I didn't expect to see you here."

On Sun, May 31, 2020 at 1:17 AM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
Mendl had been having nightmares. Not screaming ones, but ones that woke her up with a jerk, or that if she did wake up, she couldn't get back to sleep. All these dreams featured dead embryos in eggs coming to life and chasing her calling, "Save me! No, save ME!" 

She knew that what had happened needed to be done. The look of relief on various faces when they determined it was the quake that killed the eggs and not the parentage was proof-positive of that.  And so what if one was still alive? She still was.

It still bothered her though.

But all that was the past. Over and done with. Now there was a Gather in town, and she had a good friend who would help her spend the mark she got from Master Larsin. Since said good friend also received the same amount from him, they could go on a fun shopping spree.

So, she walked up to Dytha's weyr to see if she and Ponth wanted to go shopping. And maybe she would talk to Dytha about her nightmares...



--
Nutmeg on the Wizzy.
Recluso#6042 on Discord

I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!



--
Nutmeg on the Wizzy.
Recluso#6042 on Discord

I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!



--
Nutmeg on the Wizzy.
Recluso#6042 on Discord

I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!



--
Nutmeg on the Wizzy.
Recluso#6042 on Discord

I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!



--
Nutmeg on the Wizzy.
Recluso#6042 on Discord

I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!


Re: How to Mistreat a Dragon (Attn: Foreth, Kassia, Mendl)

Laurie
 

Mendl nodded. That made sense. And swimming probably helped her leg some. "I know it's painful, sweetie," she crooned. "But it'll feel better soon." The numbweed would help a lot. She wondered about giving Foreth some willow salic. It would have to be a fair amount, but if her leg were that painful...and willow was quite bitter; not something she thought a dragon would willingly drink.

She finished massaging the numbweed into the queen's leg. "Does your leg hurt all the time? Or only since you went swimming? Once your leg has healed you'll be swimming a lot; it's a good way to get the strength back. Same for your wing." At least that was only a sprain. "You're looking very healthy other than your leg. And it looks as if your eggs are starting to get a little larger. May I feel your belly, for any sore spots?"  Since Foreth was fairly immobile, she wasn't sure how the eggs were taking it. Usually when dragons were gravid, they were still mobile. She didn't think the forced rest would hurt them, but after Razelth's clutch, she didn't want to take any chances.





On Tue, Jun 16, 2020 at 3:17 AM sailyn2 <empressoftheworld@...> wrote:

Kassia watched Mendl with a thin line on her face. If the dragonhealer couldn't control her displeasure, she might have to go. On the other hand, the availability of dragonhealers willing to deal with Foreth was getting shorter.

((It's painful,)) Foreth rumbled. With an ally on her side, she was willing to keep playing along.

"She went out into the water in the lake late last night," Kassia said. "I knew the bandage would be changed today, so rather than wake anyone I decided to wait."


We have a plan, even if it's still developing. JP (Ked'son/Ambrelli)

Nutmeg
 


IC Date Reference: Set approximately a sevenday post Gather. Date approximately 8.28.6.10.


At least it felt as though things were finally getting somewhere. Albeit a bit slower than he might like but Ked’son could appreciate that being so new to the role, Ko’ssen was focused on being careful. But there was also a thing as being a little too careful. Maybe he’d approach the man for an impromptu and relaxed chat about things, something less official. Get the ball rolling and give him some advice about the fluid nature of Weyrlings. Maybe. He didn’t want to tread on any toes. But he didn’t want to see the man flounder either, he seemed to have a decent head on his shoulders. If possibly a bit overwhelmed.


He was surprised he hadn’t worn a track in the tunnels by now and soon he was knocking on the familiar door. “Mornin’ Ambrelli!” he called through the door cheerfully, “It’s your favourite Weyrlingmaster coming to annoy you again!”


Ambrelli opened the door, her appearance impeccable as always, hair pulled back, functional and practical clothing, yet still tailored to ensure a polished appearance.  She hadn’t slacked on the days she’d been sequestered, and she wasn’t about to start now.  Besides, Ilexeth was sleeping more at night now, which meant she was back to getting her normal 5 or so candlemarks a night.  And she was able to get up and run, with one of her three dragon babysitters coming to watch Ilexeth while she went on a run.  And she still had time in the Infirmary.  So all in all, her routines were getting back to normal.  Which in some ways made things easier, and in others, harder.  Being so close to normal was at times more infuriating than when her life had been panicked.  


But at least now she didn’t have to hide behind the door when Ked’son or Dytha or Z’go or Larsin came calling on her.  She had a cup on klah in both hands, and she held one out to Ked.  “You’re my only Weyrlingmaster.  Don’t confuse lack of choice for preference,” she said in a teasing tone, as she stood aside for him to enter.  


“Ooph you’re a harsh woman, and here I was about to compliment you on looking impeccable as ever. You’re not giving me a chance to scold you for not being ready on time!” As ever, he was fully of boyish charm as he stepped in, gratefully taking the proffered mug of klah.


“Mornin’ to you too Ilexeth,” he called out as he headed towards his familiar indentation on the couch. He had a folder under his arm but then, that was nothing new either. By comparison, he looked a little ruffled and suspiciously as though he had slept in the same shirt. Falling asleep on the couch in his office was, a lot of the time, more regular than making it back to his own bed. 


“A woman is always on time.  She is never late, nor is she early, she arrives precisely when she means to.”  Ambrelli teased him, closing the door behind him.  She took in his appearance with a slight frown.  “Sleeping on your couch again, dear Ked’son.  They make beds for a reason,” she said, a quick look at her own in the corner of the room showing no use.  She still slept with Ilexeth in a pile of furs.  One of these days, she’d just drag the mattress in there and leave the wooden bedframe to sit bare.  


At his greeting, Ilexeth raised her head from the couch, gave another sleepy yawn, and languidly slid off the couch.  She was not nearly as big as some greens, still just about three feet in length, and it was obvious that she was going to be a small petite green.  A giant stretch later, and she sauntered up to the awlm, her walk still being uncoordinated enough to nearly give her an appearance of sashaying, and sat down in front of him.  


((*Good morning, rider of Blue Thaath.*)) the second consisted of less words and more images of Thaath himself.  ((*Will you scratch me now?*)) A pause.  ((*Please.*))


Collapsing onto the couch, Ambrelli’s comment earned her a snort of amusement. “What can I say, my couch is comfortable. I keep furs stashed in a basket behind my desk for a reason.” He grinned that boyish smile at her again as he took a slurp of his klah with a groan of happy appreciation. 


He turned his attention to Ilexeth as she sauntered towards him, noting the still ungainly momentum - even if it made her ground walking rather adorable. But even so, it was clear she still wasn’t sure about where to place her feet. Hmm. “Good morning to you too, Green Ilexeth of Ambrelli,” he responded in a teasing echo of her own politeness. “I see Thaath’s been working with you on your manners.” He held his hand forward for her to push into her head as she liked.


“I’m going to warn you now,” he called over his shoulder to Ambrelli. “By the end of today you’re either going to hate me or really hate me.” Because he wasn’t entirely the bearer of good news, at least, not in the way that they had initially hoped things would go. But, hopefully she would see that it wasn’t all bad. Just, perhaps for her, a little less than ideal.


“You should keep a clean shirt stashed in the basket as well then,” she said with a shake of her head but a small smile on her face to keep the statement from being a rebuke.  She topped off her cup, listening to him before she moved to sit on the opposite end of the couch.  Her face showed no reaction to his words, as she steeled herself for what she assumed was coming.  He and Ko’ssen had decided her fate.  


Ilexeth meanwhile had done as expected, and was now using his hand as a scratching post for all of her itches on her head.  


“I’d like to kindly remind you that she has teeth now.  Keep that in mind as you speak your bad news…” she said drolly.  “And I do so prefer men that give me bad news to bring wine...or brandy.”  She looked back at the table.  “Not even flowers or fruit.  No bribes mean it can’t be that bad.”


“I brought my dazzling company?” he tried hopefully, happily reciprocating the silent request and letting his hand scrub into Ilexeth’s hide around her neck and head. “And I’ll have you know that this is my clean shirt. I just haven’t got around to replacing the one I took out of my desk bottom drawer yet.”


Right. Enough jokes. Ambrelli wasn’t one for dithering about, he’d picked up on that already. “Okay. Cracking on with it. Ko’ssen has come to an agreement about your living arrangements and we’ve also set up what we think will be your lesson plan for the coming weeks. You’ve been announced to the Weyr as you know and Ko’ssen is going to, if he hasn’t already, going to be having a chat with the rest of the Weyrlings so that the bubble of drama has dropped…” He paused, knowing that his next words were possibly not going to be received brilliant. “... by the time you’re moved into the Barracks at the end of the month.”


“Surely you have a worker who can at least press your shirts for you.  You do have rank you know,” she said with another smile.  She watched Ilexeth as he spoke, forcing her mind into a place of calm to temper her reaction.  So it was to be the Barracks.  There were worse things, but it ranked up there as something she definitely didn’t want to do.  Somewhere she didn’t want to be.  Still, she showed nothing. 

“And my lesson plan?” she asked, her voice neutral.  Ilexeth though gave her away, the green stopping her head scratching and turning to look at Ambrelli for a moment, before leaving Ked’son’s side to go sit beside her Rider, placing her head in the woman’s lap.  Ambrelli absently reached out to scratch the green’s head.


He felt he owed her some explanation, felt it had been himself getting too far ahead of his surety of what Ko’ssen would agree to. “I know it’s less than ideal - in more ways than one. But it wasn’t a decision made on a whim. With the concerns raised about your safety, the constant presence of numerous Weyrlingmasters and the fact that the Barracks doors are closed and locked at night, were the overarching deciding factor given that Ilexeth isn’t big enough to defend herself yet. That was the predominant chain of thinking. Plus it doesn’t stand out.” He wasn’t going to give her a mountain of excuses so, unless she chose to raise any more questions about what had led to the decision, he would leave it there. “As for your lessons - I’m afraid for the most part, you’re stuck with me.” He offered a wry smile, but he couldn’t stop the tinge of apology that tweaked it. “We’ve unanimously agreed that a lot of the basic lectures are going to probably drive you around the bend and that it won’t do your mental state any good. So you’re going to be spending a lot of one on one time training with me. However…” Another pause, this time to ensure that she was following as he sipped his klah. “You are going to need to attend the general times with dragons present - for example feeding and bathing times as these will be crucial for Ilexeth’s socialisation development. Time spent around her peers. In time this will extend to include the physical lessons - again more socialisation, her learning how to communicate with multiple dragons, working as a team, generally building up her physical strength and so on.”


Ked’son paused a moment, this time to give her opportunity to raise questions. He was fairly sure what the next question might be about - her Infirmary time.


Ambrelli looked down at Ilexeth, reminding herself of why she was going to tolerate this.  “I should have never trusted Ko’ssen.  I asked for help, not imprisonment.”  She spoke with neither surprise nor hatred, but instead it was with resigned neutrality.  She continued to stroke the green’s head.  She had no desire to spend time with the other weyrlings, children all of them, but she also understood that Ilexeth needed to spend time with the dragons of her own age.  But the training, despite Ked’son’s avoidance of saying it, was meant to make her a Rider, a fighter of Thread.  She may have desired that once upon a time, but not so now.  Now, it was the last thing she ever planned on doing.  It was too early yet to take drastic measures, and ones that may not be needed.  So it was either refuse outright and face the consequences, which would likely include a complete cutoff from the life she knew as payment for her petulance, or play the game and bide her time.  She could endure anything if necessary, for a time.


“What else, Ked’son?”  He was leaving more out she knew.  He’d yet to explain her Craft status or Z’go.  The two things he knew she’d care most about.


Ambrelli wasn’t the kind to collapse into dramatic hysterics. In fact, as far as Ked’son had observed, she seemed to pride herself on her immense self control - despite the cause of it having to exist. So he didn’t argue with her statement, suspecting that it was as close to a slip of emotion as she’d likely ever allow him to see. No, she hadn’t asked for any of this and could see why being consigned to the Barracks would feel more like a punishment than a safety measure. He was glad he had been practical about it, instead of trying to push it into a far weaker argument of random opportunities of Ilexeth’s socialisation. Now wasn’t the time to push points or argue when to do so, would be, well, pointless. And it wouldn’t achieve anything.


“One day of weyrling classes - whether that’s your intensive training with me, or the group physical classes, a day in the Infirmary. The only exception is the fifth day where you will spend the morning attending to weyrling duties and then the afternoon is yours to spend in the Infirmary. Regarding your mate…” A moment’s pause as he flicked through the notes he had taken. “The weyrlings now work on a five on two off pattern to give them appropriate downtime, homework time and so one. Those rest days are yours to spend with your mate. Plus I’m fairly sure we could make some wiggle room around the evening meals… for example on your Infirmary days. Obviously the same rules stand as have currently applied regarding physical contact and so forth. But you will  be able to leave the Barracks, either with Ilexeth or she can be left for short periods whilst sleeping - such as you have been doing with your runs and left in the observation of another dragon - for example, Thaath.” He hoped it was something of a buffer, it was why he had told her the “worse” news of having to relocate first.  


There was a soft rumble from Ilexeth as Ked’son finished.  Ambrelli stroked her head, taking it into both of her hands, the little dragon putting her paws on her lap to lift herself up to touch her forehead to Ambrelli’s.  The rumble continued, and Ambrelli sighed.  “Hush, Lexi.  There’s no need for that now.”  They both ignored Ked’son’s presence in the room, and Ambrelli stroked her little green until she calmed, the rumbling abated.  It was, Ambrelli noted, completely and utterly her fault.  She may have been keeping her face from revealing her dislike of the situation, but she hadn’t shielded Ilexeth from that.  The little green knew both that Ambrelli was unhappy and that somehow, it was tied to what Ked’son had just said.  Well, she couldn’t shield her out all the time and from everything.  Not now that she was awake more and more, and that there was likely to be more unpleasantness to come.  


It was a moment before Ambrelli looked up, Ilexeth’s forepaws going back on the ground.  Ambrelli smoothed her tunic, and let one hand go back to Lexi’s head, again resting on her lap.  “It is what it is.  It could have been worse, I suppose.”  And she was sure it could have been.  She might be annoyed now, but she knew Ked’son to be sensible.  If this is what the compromise had been, she could only imagine what Ko’ssen and the Weyrleadership had been pushing.  Once again, her choices were not her own.  Ilexeth had Chosen her; this was that price.  She’d pay it, but not gladly, and there were always ways.  She hadn’t missed Ked’son’s hints about that either.  Still, she was finding it hard to be grateful at the moment.  It wouldn’t do to focus on that though.  


“Is that it?” she asked, finally looking back up at him.  “So what’s on our lessons for today then?”


No, he hadn’t been expecting hystronics but the lack of further questions did surprise him. He had been silent as she calmed Ilexeth, ironic that it was a positive thing to comment on when she was so very likely disappointed if not outright upset. The folder was slid over to her. “That contains all the new schedules and so forth. I’ve also taken the liberty of preliminarily suggesting a wallow that is slightly away from the rest of the class to afford you as much additional privacy as possible as well as a bunk map. If somewhere else takes your fancy, say the word and it’ll be arranged for it to be yours.” 


He sat back, regarding her and the green. It was clear that a little of the boyish humour had faded slightly and though he would never tell her outright, he had his own reservations about this - even if the vast majority of it was about showing the Weyrleadership that efforts were being made. “To be honest, I wasn’t sure how much time would be needed to discuss this. I’ve brought with me the follow up notes for the review work we did the last sevenday. Nothing major, just a few minor brush up notes for you to look over in your own time. It’s nothing major, just a few remarks on additional information that would be covered in a slightly different direction of detail to where your Healer training has covered.” Ked’son paused, weighing up his thoughts. 


“So for once, rather than me telling you what you’re doing today, is there anything you want to do?” And if that included asking him to leave, well, he could do that too. 


She took the folder, opening it to leaf through it briefly.  It was as he described, so nothing surprised her.  She appreciated his blunt honesty, even if in the moment she disliked the results.  She looked at the bunk map, Ilexeth lifting her head to look at it.  Ambrelli handed it back to Ked’son.  “As far away as possible, if you please.”  She flipped through the rest of the notes, her long fingers tracing the list and mentally ticking off boxes.  Wasn’t that the mantra Ked’son was trying to get her to live by?  Ticking off the boxes.  


If he’d had a lesson plan for her for today it would have been easier.  She needed work to keep her mind from racing.  And the idea of choosing something herself, well, there was no doubt what that would be, what it would always be.  


Ilexeth lowered her head from Ambrelli’s lap, and Ambrelli stood.  She set the folder on the table, and nodded.  “Yes, I’d like to go to work now, if there’s nothing else.  I have much to do to prepare for the changes coming and to make up for my earlier absence.  There is plenty to keep me busy.”  She looked at Ilexeth before looking back up at him.  “So unless there’s something else, Ked’son…” she said, knowing she couldn’t dismiss him or call the lesson over.  Ilexeth stood next to her, physically touching her, a slight wing just barely opened to touch Ambrelli’s calf.


Ironically, he had been on the fence about whether to prepare a specific lesson. But at the same time it had felt, well, patronising to thrust weyrling lessons down her throat when in this second, he suspected she was potentially not wanting to engage with anything remotely to do with “weyrling-related” activities. She still had to be treated like the adult she was, not just as the Weyrling rank she had acquired. 


It didn’t take long to drain the klah. He was more than used to klah on the run. Although it was more normal to drink a cup that had been cold hours before. Rising to his feet, he swept down his rumpled shirt although it did little to remove any of the creases. “Not a problem at all. I know tomorrow is already allocated for you to have Infirmary time so I’ll be out of your hair until the day after.” He was already headed towards the door, keenly aware that he didn’t want to outstay his welcome any longer than his “news” already had done for him. “You know how to find me if needed. I’m just a dragon-shout away.”


He supposed that it had gone just about as well as it could have. So that had to be something. Right? He’d have Thaath keep an ear ready, although he imagined that the blue would already be doing it whether he was asked to or not. Shells, but it felt as though he were walking a tightrope and he was terrified what would happen if he fell.


“Then expect me to have my favorite weyrlingmaster’s cup ready and full of klah,” she said with a slight smile.  After all, she knew he was her ally in this and not her enemy.  She led him to the door, saying her goodbyes as he left her.  She hadn’t lied.  There was much to do to get ready for the changes coming.  And she’d have to tell Z’go as well.  But she needed to wait until she was calmer before talking to him.  And at the moment, she couldn’t quite express her feelings.  It was better to calm down first through hard work and let that filter out the emotional aspects so she could focus on the practical.


So it was that a half a candlemark later, Ambrelli led Ilexeth down into the Infirmary to start on a long to-do list, her Journeyman knots displayed on her uniform in a near defiance of the new role despite the little green by her side.  There was perhaps never so neat of records or detailed of lesson plans as there was by the end of that shift, Ambrelli’s need for tasks being turned to a benefit at the very least.


= END =



--
Nutmeg on the Wizzy.
Recluso#6042 on Discord

I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!


Re: Gather: Callamere Whers Stall Atten: Marsali, Revai

Rosiegirl
 

At the other's question, Marsali's mouth opened and her most immediate reply would have just been 'Everything!'. But she quickly changed that broad statement to something a little more specific and asked "Well, what makes your runners so specifically different from other runner bloodlines? Aside from their beautiful coloring, of course, as that's fairly obvious. And how long have you been working on perfecting this bloodline of Callamere White Runners?" 

On Wed, Jun 10, 2020 at 9:18 AM sailyn2 <empressoftheworld@...> wrote:

"Ah," Revai relaxed. "What would you like to know?"


Family Means No One Gets Left Behind Or Forgotten. ((JP: Andreya & T'rif))

Rosiegirl
 

((OOC: Follows directly after the 'Mothers and Daughters and...Fathers?...Oh My!' standalone.))


After fleeing her mother and their Lake-side breakfast, Andreya had rushed back to the Candidate Barracks, hoping not just that her ‘roommates’ would be out of their room, but also that she could get back into the Barracks without running into T’rif before she was fully prepared for the encounter with her father. As luck would have it, she accomplished both things and returned to a blessedly empty room.


As she walked through the doorway to her room and saw it empty, she let out a huge relieved sigh and pulled the curtain shut for a measure of privacy. Sitting down heavily on her bed, suddenly feeling completely drained, Andreya bent over and put her head in her hands as she tried to just...just *be* without thinking about everything she’d heard since she woke up. But her brain wouldn’t stop and just shut up, and the Harper girl let out a frustrated groan as she rubbed at her temples, feeling a bit of a headache developing. 


When rubbing at her temples didn’t help, Andreya shot off the bed and began to pace back and forth in the small area in the center of their room. As her long legs took her quickly back and forth, she jerked off her belt with less care than she normally took, and then untied and unwrapped the scarf from around her neck, needing to breathe and suddenly feeling like the scarf was choking her. On a pass by her chest at the foot of her cot, she threw both accessories down on top of the chest and then kept up her movements as her mind raced. She ran her hands through her hair, pulling on some strands just a touch hoping that the little bit of pain might get her mind to stop it’s headlong gallop but no luck there.


After several minutes of fast pacing, Andreya stopped and stood there a moment, looking at her cot and breathing just a little heavy. As she stared at her cot she decided that even if she could get her mind to stop racing that her initial plans for the day of studying for several hours both before and after lunch were pretty well shot. No way could she study *today*! And she’s got so little sleep...maybe she could get away with laying down for a few hours, if her mind would let her rest that is.


Nodding her head firmly, determined to rest and see if she’d feel less emotionally drained when she woke up, Andreya stripped out of her corset top and skirt, down to her undergarments and nothing else, put the corset and skirt on top of her clothes chest, and then curled up under the furs in bed. She laid there, knees bent and curled in, furs pulled high up to her chin, closed her eyes with tears welling slightly in the corners, and with her mind still racing she began to take long deep breaths to try and get herself to fall asleep…


And amazingly, before she’d taken more than a handful of long deep breaths Andreya was asleep and dead to the world...


It wasn’t until several hours later that Andreya woke up from her nap, and of her own accord too instead of (for example) because a loud roommate walked into the room. Stretching out her long legs in a pleased groan, feeling the soft fur slide against skin that normally had some kind of sleeping shirt covering it, Andreya woke up slowly as she unfolded (much like a feline does) inch by slow inch. Arching her back with a groan as she flipped over on the cot, as she woke up fully everything from the morning rushed back to her. 


However, the nap had done wonders for emotional turmoil, allowing her brain to sort itself out while Andreya slept, and instead of being overwhelmed with everything new she’d learned she was...much more her normal calm and rational self. Sitting up on her cot, the furs collected around her waist, Andreya rubbed her hands over her face to wake up before running her hands through her hair to smooth down the slightly ‘bed-head’ looking red mass into waves again. 


Feeling much more herself after the refreshing nap, Andreya replayed the conversation she’d had with her mother and was highly embarrassed by her behavior...there was absolutely no excuse for the way she’d talked to her mother this morning. As she turned to get up out of bed, Andreya promised herself that she’d send her mother an apology, sure that the tailor had already returned to the Hold at this point. 


Standing up, Andreya quickly dressed in the outfit she’d been wearing before her nap, including the scarf around her neck as a choker and the belt slung low around her hips. As she looked down at her outfit, considering it, she pulled on the blouse’s neckline to not be so low into the corset. In the end, instead of leaving her shoulders bare (as she’d worn the blouse/corset combo this morning) the blouse covered her shoulders and the blouse was...just a bit more modest than it previously had been for going to talk to her dad. Giving her outfit a critical examination, she nodded her head in satisfaction even as she considered needing to go through her entire ‘off-duty’ wardrobe to make sure she wore only clothing appropriate for the ‘new’ cousin of the Weyrwoman to be seen wearing. 


Sitting on her bed, she pulled her heeled slippers out from under the cot and slipped them on, tying the slipper’s ribbons up and around her ankle securly. Finally, she brushed out her wavy hair and arranged it in a smooth sideways laying french braid so that it laid across her shoulder and her collarbone, with a blue ribbon matching her corset braided into the braid itself giving a startling contrast to her coppery-red locks . As she finished and tied the braid securely, finishing donning her ‘armor’ for the afternoon, Andreya sat there a moment and considered her next course of action. 


With how long she napped, it was now fairly close to lunch time, Andreya considered seeing if T’rifoshe would be able to take an ‘off-duty’ lunch. She very clearly remembered her mother’s warning to keep things separate and not mix ‘ACM’ with ‘father’ T’rifoshe, so she wanted to make it clear when she approached him, especially if she approached him in his office, that she wasn’t coming to see him as a candidate needing his help. But then as she considered trying to eat while at the same time trying to have this first talk with him, Andreya realized she might have some trouble eating because of being nervous. And besides, he might not be able to take some time away from being ‘ACM’ to talk with her right when he approached her, in which case they’d have to get together whenever he was free. So really, she couldn’t make any definitive plans on talking with T’rif because it depended on his availability and if he had enough free time as the one thing she didn’t want to do was pull him away from any work he might need to do. 


As she reasoned all this out, she realized her next step very clearly would be seeing if he was in his office. With the earlier emotional upheavals having been soothed by her restful nap, and having had some time to adjust to the news she’d been given, she’d found a measure of...acceptance as she embraced the idea that she now knew who her father was and that he actually wanted to be a part of her life and so Andreya didn’t see any point in delaying this meeting. 


Her mind set, Andreya stood up gracefully from her cot and headed across the barracks to ACM T’rifoshe’s office. Her walk to the office was graceful and full of confidence, despite the more than slight amount of apprehension she felt about this meeting. As she got close, she paused a moment to check herself over one more time and adjust where the braid was laying across her collerbone, before she walked up to the office door. Taking a breath to steady herself, her posture already perfect, even as Andreya raised her hand to knock on the closed door she wondered if he’d be in his office right now or if he might have taken off to eat lunch a little early.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


The Candidates might have the day after the Hatching off, but T’rif didn’t. Too many Candidates had angst over not Impressing for him not to be around so he made himself available for anyone to talk to just in case. When the knock on the door came, he assumed that just another Candidate looking to talk about their missed chance to Impress had come.


“Come in,” he called from behind his desk, pushing a stack of files away.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


As she stood outside the door, waiting with her heart pounding a little harder than she wished it would, when Andreya heard him call out for her to come in she took another quick breath before she turned the doorknob and pushed open the door. Taking a single step inside, she looked over at ACM T’rifoshe, at her...her father, sitting behind his desk and there was the briefest pause as she looked at him, really looked at him, seeing him not as ACM but as her dad. 


Then, having already planned out what she was going to say while she was still sitting on her cot and with her head high to show she wasn’t nervous or upset, she asked in a voice that didn’t sound at all hesitant  “Hello, ACM T’rifoshe. If you’re not too busy with candidate related work, do you have some time to talk?” Her question, she hoped, would make it clear to him that she wasn’t coming to see him as a candidate needing counseling but instead as his daughter. Her hands were by her side, loose and relaxed, as she stood there just inside his office not wanting to interrupt if he didn’t have time to see her right this moment. 


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


T’rif looked up and his eyes widened as they settled on a familiar red-headed woman. Reyara had said that Andreya was his daughter and now he was being confronted with her for the first time since that knowledge. He pushed his work aside and gestured for her to come sit.


“Not at all,” he said. “Please, come sit. I always have time to talk. In whatever capacity you need me.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


Andreya was watching him and saw T’rif’s eyes widen as he looked at her, and she could understand that it must be...quite an experience to have a previously unknown nearly-grown daughter walk into your office and ask to talk. It was certainly an unusual feeling on her side of the coin. Unsure if he’d drop everything to talk with her, when his first reaction was to push aside his work and focus on her Andreya felt her heart get a little warm fuzzy feeling as she realized her mother hadn’t over exaggerated. He did seem to want her in her life. 


At his gesture to sit and his reassuring, welcoming words, Andreya was pleased and gave him a small smile and replied with “Thank you, Sir.”  Shutting the door behind her (assuming he’d want the door shut for privacy for this conversation) she then walked gracefully over to the chair. Smoothing her skirt down, she sat down with the same ladylike poise she’d shown during the candidate interview. 


Taking a moment to settle her skirt, Andreya then laid her hands in her lap and looked across the desk at T’rif. Sitting down and looking at him, meeting his eyes with her own that mirrored his in color, Andreya took a moment to adjust before saying (as she watched his face for reactions) “I...I know this is a bit odd, coming to see you like this….as...as your daughter, not just another candidate.” There, she’d said it outloud to him...and she watched her father. 


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


“It is...” T’rif said then cleared his throat. “I mean. Yes, it is. But that’s okay. I’m excited to know. How...how are you feeling about all of this?” He watched her closely, wanting to see how she felt about the whole situation which was weird, but not entirely unheard of considering a world where flight babies were a common situation. 


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


His agreement at the oddness of the situation earned him a small nod from the Harper. There was no way around it, this would be odd for anyone. As he said that it was ok, Andreya’s lips turned up slightly in a smile, and she settled a little more into the chair at the reassurance that coming to talk was really ok. 


As he said he was actually excited to know, to find out about her, Andreya studied his face a moment but there was nothing to hint that he wasn’t being honest. And that, combined with his first question being how *she* was feeling earned him a little bit of a wider smile even as that warm fuzzy feeling inside got a little warmer. 


Andreya had intended to hold herself back a bit, had taken the time to build up that ever present wall around her heart so that she didn’t get hurt again. Yes, T’rif wouldn’t hurt her in the same way that other rotten bastard had, but as her father...he could still break her heart. But, the way he had already (in just their very first talk as father and daughter) shown that he was concerned about her, that he’d make time for her...well, that thick wall around her heart was beginning to crack slightly regardless of Andreya’s intentions.


She took a moment to carefully consider her response before she said “It’s..well, it’s a shock, of course. After this long I never expected that Mom would remember, that she’d find out. I’d stopped hoping, Turns ago, that I'd ever know. I always thought her vague memories of my father ‘maybe being a rider’ were just her hopes to remember leading her to mis-remember.” 


Taking a breath, not wanting to go into the turns she’d pestered her mother to remember *something* about her dad, Andreya continued instead with “And now...now we know. After all these turns, we know about each other.” Pausing, with the memory of those Turns wishing on Birthdays for her father still fresh in her mind, her internal wall cracked just a little more and voice went a little bit shy as she added “And I’m excited too...to know you.” 


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


T’rif stood and came around the desk. “May I...may I give you a hug?” For all those turns not to know she existed and now to have another daughter to be standing before him and old enough to Stand. Grown before he’d ever laid eyes on her, let alone given her her first hug. It seemed wrong.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


As T’rif stood up and walked around toward her, Andreya’s gaze followed him and watched the tall man’s movements, not realizing she was still looking for herself and whatever mannerisms of hers he might have. With his question, there was a very very brief pause, not quite a hesitation though, before Andreya nodded and replied with “Yes, that would be ok.”. She then smoothly stood up and moved out from in front of the chair with delicate, elegant movements and her flowy skirt making slight ‘swooshing’ movements with her steps. 


Standing there keeping herself as relaxed as possible, with these heeled slippers, her height was closer to 6 feet than her normal 5’10” and her blue/grey eyes still needed to be raised to look into T’rif’s as she gave him a small nod. 


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


T’rif pulled her in for a hug and held her long enough that it might have been awkward, but it was the first one and he wanted to remember it. This time the day before he hadn’t even known she existed. Children were important to him and through some cruel twist of fate all of the ones he’d known he’d had were taken from him and here was another that he’d never known of come back into his life.


“It’s nice to meet you,” he said as he released you. “I was hoping you’d stop by. I actually...I got you something in case you did.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


When T’rif stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, Andreya had a moment of needing to figure out where exactly to put her own arms. When she hugged her mother, she normally put her arms around her mom’s shoulders, but this wouldn’t work here. So, after a moment of his arms around hers, Andreya raised her arms and wrapped them under his, around his chest so that her palms were against his back, and turned her head to lay her cheek against his shoulder as she relaxed into T’rif’s hug. 


Standing there, his arms warm and strong around her back holding her tightly to him, Andreya closed her eyes as she kept her cheek turned against his shoulder (facing his neck) and let herself...just feel for a long moment this first hug from her father. Hearing his strong heartbeat echo in her ear, the faint smell of oil he’d used on his dragon, his warmth (why were guys always little portable cookstoves?) and the muscles in his arms holding her close. She was focused on the hug itself that she didn’t notice any potential awkwardness from the length of the hug, nor did she tense up or give a hint of wanting to pull away from the hug, unusual from her typical behavior with guys to want to be so warm with them. But T’rif wasn’t just a ‘guy’, he was her father...and that was different even if her mind was still trying to keep up it’s walls around her heart.


When she felt him shift, only then did Andreya let her hands fall away from his back as he released her.  Giving a small step back to give him space, her head ducked a little as she felt the faint tingling of tears in her eyes and she determinedly told herself she *was not* going to cry from a *hug!*. As she ducked her head, she reached up to unconsciously smooth her hair before she remembered a little too late that her hair was in a braid, so her movement changed to just adjusting where the braid fell against her collarbone.  


His words, however, earned him a glance up and a small smile followed by an ‘oh’ of surprise at him saying he had something for her. Remembering her mother’s words not to take advantage, Andreya raised her hands just slightly as she responded with surprise, albeit pleased surprise, in her voice “Oh! You didn’t need to get me anything. Really. And it’s nice to meet you too...T’rifoshe.” There was a slight pause as she mentally debated with herself on what...what it felt right to call him, as it certainly wouldn’t be Triffy like she’d heard Shalia call him.. 


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


“I wanted to get it for you,” T’rif told her. He ducked around his desk and brought out the egg pot holder to present it to her. “The egg was available, so I took it. It was no big deal. It’s a Callamere though, so it should be a real nice flit, whatever the color.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


As T’rif said he’d wanted to do it, Andreya opened her mouth again to say it wasn’t needed, that she hadn’t expected anything, when suddenly he pulled out an egg pot from behind his desk. Well, she certainly hadn’t expected *that*, maybe a beautiful hair comb, or...or some kind of modestly gorgeous dress (maybe with her mother’s assistance in picking out the gift), but not...this. Staring with wide, surprised eyes from the egg pot holder and back up to him, when he mentioned it was a *Callamere* egg, her surprise turned into pure astonishment. 


Staring at the egg pot holder, shaking her head a little, she asked curiously, her brain focusing on this question while Andreya worked through her shock of the gift “And...and what would you have done with the egg if I’d waited a few days to visit? It could have hatched on you.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


“Nah, if you hadn’t come today, I would have given it back to Shalia to sell it,” T’rifoshe told her. He didn’t mention that he detested the flying pests himself, but he understood that he was in the minority. “So if you want it, the egg is yours. If not, I’ll return it so that Shalia can sell it.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


Andreya was still looking at the egg pot holder, the shock fading into a clear look of longing directed at the pot even as she held herself back from reaching for it. Not too long ago she’d expressed a desire for a flit, and now here she was being gifted with an egg. Listening and nodding softly when he said he’d just have given it back, when he mentioned Shalia’s name Andreya’s head came up in surprise. With a small, amused smile Andreya responded with “Shalia and I were talking about flits, when I first arrived. She was determined to help me get one. I...I do want it, really I do. This is a truly wonderful gift, more than I ever expected, Thank you so much.” Even as she thanked him, Andreya had a moment of thinking he was trying to win her over with gifts and wanting to refuse it, but...but she didn’t *want* to decline the gift. Surely...surely accepting it would be ok without making him think she was just looking for whatever fancy gifts he’d give her to make up for all these turns? After all, he didn’t have anything to make up for, it hadn’t been his fault that they’d never known each other.


After a moment though, with that warning from earlier still at the forefront of her mind, Andreya asked with a note of hesitation in her voice despite the hope she didn’t manage to conceal “Are...are you sure it’s ok that I get one? That you give me one? And not just with Foreth’s recent ‘Flight and the upcoming eggs either…” 


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


“You should have time enough for the flit to be attached to you before the eggs Hatch,” T’rif assured her. “And I get that it’s  a big gift, but it was available to me. If you’re not interested, that’s fine. I won’t be  upset. I don’t want to offend you.” 


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


As he said there’d be enough time for the flit to be fine should she impress, Andreya gave a relieved nod of her head as she glanced back down at the egg pot. As he continued, saying it was fine if she wasn’t interested, reassuring her it would be ok and he wasn’t offended, Andreya’s eyes flew back up to his and she rushed forward with her own reassurances saying “Oh no! I’m not offended, not at all. Please don’t think that, Sir...err...T’rifoshe.” She flushed a bit as she stumbled, saying ‘Sir’ out of reflex before remembering he was her dad and then feeling awkward about her bumbled words. 


Taking a breath, she tried again saying “Thank you for reassuring me about there being enough time for the flit’s attachment. And it is a big gift, but I’m not offended....I’m...I just want to make sure that...well, like my mom warned me, that I’m not seen to be gaining an unfair advantage now...with being your daughter. I don’t want that at all. It is a wonderfully thoughtful gift, and I do want to accept it, I’m very much interested.” As she finished, she was looking at him with honesty showing clear across her features. 


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


“Please, if we’re going informal, just call me T’rif,” he told her. “And it’s really no big deal. The Weyr’s full of flits. One more isn’t a big thing in the scheme of things. It’s just a nice thing for you. But again, if you’re not interested, I can just give it back. I don’t want you to feel weird or anything.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


At his suggestion to call him T’rif, Andreya nodded her head giving him a small embarrassed smile even as she continued listening to him. She thought back to all the flits she’d seen, all over the place, and hadn’t realized so many candidates had them that it would be ok for her to as well. As he tried to say he could take the egg back, a brief look of sadness passed over her face at the idea and she gave a shake of her head. 


Hearing his concern about her feeling weird about accepting, with the reassurance that flits were normal and she’d be ok having one...that she wouldn’t get looked at sideways for having one suddenly when people figured out (gossip always spread like fire) that she was T’rif’s previously unknown daughter, she made up her mind. Smile widening, trying to reassure him that she was happy, beyond happy really...more like elated, she said quite sincerely “Thank you...thank you T’rif! I love the gift, a Callamere egg, I can’t believe it! I appreciate it, your gift. I don’t feel weird at all.” 


Then, quite unlike herself, Andreya let the delighted feelings envelope her a bit more and in a spur-of-the-moment of unconstrained feeling actually stepped closer to (and maybe a little behind) the desk to hug him saying again “Thank you!” She could feel that tingle of tears again in her eyes, and closed her eyes as she hugged her father tightly.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


“You’re welcome,” he said as he hugged her back. “I think I was told it should Hatch pretty quick so don’t go far away from it until then.” 


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


Swallowing hard, fighting back the tears as she hugged T’rif even as she couldn’t help the pang of regret at so much lost time, after a moment she dropped her arms and stepped back from the hug. Nodding at his words, feeling a bit stunned again as she thought about all the ‘new arrivals’ in her life today...a father...cousins and more cousins...maybe siblings (although she didn’t quite want to ask that yet)...and now a *Callamere Flit*. 


Putting a hand on top of the pot very gently, she asked “Pretty quickly, do you mean...in a few hours? Or in a sevenday?” Yes, today was a free day, but what about tomorrow? What if she was in lessons and it hatched tomorrow? She didn’t think she’d be allowed to bring the egg to class with her, to make sure she was around when it hatched…


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


“Within the day or so,” T’rif said. “So happy Hatching Day. Just not the one you were expecting.” He smiled at her, excited that he could give her such a gift. It felt like a small way to make up for turns of missed presents for birthdays and Gathers and all.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


As he gave the expected timeframe, Andreya nodded thoughtfully and then couldn’t help the smile at his ‘Hatching Day’ congratulations. Glancing up at him, she said seriously “Thank you. And...and maybe it’s good I didn’t impress. I couldn’t imagine being stuck in however many months of weyrling seclusion...right after finding out about you. This way...this way we have time to get to know each other. We’ve missed a lot…” At that last bit, there was a tinge of regret, before she continued in a happier tone with “but thankfully, not anymore.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


“This way you get time to get to know the Weyr as well,” T’rif said. “You can get friends and meet all your kin. I always feel bad for the people who Impress straight off. You really do need those connections.” And now hopefully one of those connections would involve him. “How are you finding things around here so far?”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


Nodding to T’rif’s comments, the movement hesitated just slightly at the ‘all your kin’ words...and the reminder of just how far-reaching her family suddenly was. At his question, Andreya replied with “Well, I’ve been mostly trying to cram studying in for yesterday’s Hatching, just to be prepared...But I’ve made friends with Shalia, actually. Spent some time with her, not just the day she showed me around either. Other than her...well, like I said I’ve had my nose to the books. But hopefully, now with a bit of time until the next Hatching, you’re right that I can make more connections.” 


She said this, but she thought back to her time at the Harper Haven and how...how apart she’d always been from everyone else (mostly because of her own actions setting her apart) and wondered really how different it would be as a candidate. 


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


“Well, now you can study at a more leisurely pace,” T’rif  said. “And I’m glad you’re getting to know Shalia. She’s a good girl. Just keep yourself out of trouble. You should get to know Rassia and Kashara as well.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


Nodding about being able to study slower, Andreya knew that she had a lot to catch up on, however, and would need to keep studying hard to get there. She didn’t want to fall behind just because she’d come late to the Gather. Smiling at T’rif’s words about Shalia, she again nodded about staying out of trouble, and this time the nodding was in actual agreement. “Oh of course, I don’t want to cause any trouble.” Nor did she want to make him regret being excited to have her as a daughter, or otherwise disappoint him.  She continued, adding “Yes, Shalia mentioned her sisters, my...my second cousins...I’ll have to meet them. So many new family members to meet now...Are there...do I have any siblings here I should be aware of?” Andreya worried, very suddenly, that one of the boys she’d kissed might be an unknown brother, but she didn’t think any had mentioned T’rif being their father. Still, it didn’t hurt to ask...


A sudden thought resulted in Andreya giving him an apprehensive look as she asked “There isn’t some kind of...I don’t know...big family dinner on rest days that I need to know about...is there?” The young Harper most certainly didn’t want to end up heading to the Dining Hall one day only to get swept up into a family dinner with...with everyone without at least the chance to prepare and make sure she was appropriately dressed for the occasion...much less emotionally prepared for that kind of meeting.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


A pained look came over his face. “I have two kids with my previous mate, Monifa, but she took them North and I haven’t seen them in turns,” he said. “And another daughter by a woman who ran off and didn’t tell me where she took our daughter, and I haven’t heard from her since. I had a son that was actually Kassia’s weyrmate for turns, but he died in an accident. So it’s just the extended family. And no, we don’t do a big family dinner.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


Seeing the pain on her father’s face, Andreya immediately regretted asking about siblings and instinctively reached out to touch his arm in comfort. As soon as she realized her hand was moving she froze a moment before following through with the movement and laying her palm on his arm while silently listening, sorrow for his pain clear on her face. When he got to mentioning his son, saying he’d been Kassia’s weyrmate, her Harper brain made the connection easily but she managed not to react to the strange knowledge that Kassia had been weyrmated to her own cousin briefly. 


As he finished, in a soft heartfelt voice she said “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories for you. And...and I’m even more sorry for the loss of your son, and not being able to know your other children.” Hearing that it seemed T’rif had not raised any of his children made Andreya both terribly sad for her father, while there was a little tiny bit of her that said ‘Well, at least you’re not the only one he didn’t get to raise.’. Andreya, of course, squashed that horrible though immediately. 


As he answered her last question, about big family dinners, Andreya gave him a slightly relieved smile as she said trying to move away from sad memories “That’s good to know...I’d rather have a chance to prepare before a family meeting like that. I couldn’t even imagine…” 


As she shook her head at the though, Andreya moved to lift her palm off of T’rif’s arm. Then she considered and asked “Do you...I don’t know how much you and Mom got to talk about last night. But do you have any questions for me?”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


He laid a hand across her hand, acknowledging the comfort.

“I guess, I didn’t mention that I’ve had the privilege of being a part of the Weyrwoman’s...Kassia’s life, and her children’s,” he said. “A big part. And like I said, I’d like you to meet them, but you won’t have to meet them all at once. I’m surprised you haven’t met Rassia yet. Kashara is still in the Infirmary and will probably be set up in a nearby small weyr while she continues to recover, so we’d have to make a trip to meet her.” 


“I hope you’ve had a good life so far,” he said. “Your mother seems like a very wonderful woman, as she did that night I met her. Know that you’re welcome here and that whatever your life before, you can start a new one here though. I’m here if you ever need me. That goes whether you need a dad...if you eventually want one. Or you need an ACM. Okay?”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


Andreya gave him a small smile as she felt the warmth of his hand covering hers, and at his mention of being a big part of his niece’s (and her children’s) life Andreya wondered how this niece (Weyrwoman Kassia) would react to finding out about her. Would she actually welcome Andreya as a part of this big family? Or would Andreya, not having grown up in the family, be looked at like an unknown interloper?


When he said he’d like her to meet them, Andreya of course nodded her head then smiled gratefully at him as he mentioned it not being all at once. At the reminder that Shalia’s sister, her cousin, was in the infirmary Andreya asked “That’s right. How is Kashara doing, any better? Any good news on her leg’s healing yet? And yes, I do want to meet them both whenever they, or you, are free.”  After a pause Andreya added “All this new family...it’s always been just me and Mom for so long, she didn’t have any siblings...So, suddenly having people related to me, people that I might see even as I turn a corner, that’s really surprising. I’m excited to meet everyone, so that I can be a big part of their lives too.”


As T’rif talked about what he hoped about her life, about her mom being a wonderful woman, Andreya smiled reassuringly at her dad. When he went on to say she was welcome here, could start a new life no matter what came before, and that he’d be there if she needed him, Andreya wondered briefly what kind of notes might have been in her file that the Harpers probably gave to the Candidatemaster when she’d joined Candidacy...Had the Harpers been more aware of the attitudes of the apprentice/journeymen Harpers toward her than they’d let on? But that didn’t matter, not right at this moment. 


Instead, pulling her thoughts away from the Harper Haven Andreya said “Yes, I did. Mom was wonderful. Yes, she was a bit busy with tailoring and I was raised in the Hold’s creche, like rider’s kids are here, but she saw me as much as she could. And, as you can probably tell, I loved seeing all the beautiful things she could make. She even managed to get me extra, private Harpering lessons when I began to show some promise, and that was amazing of her. That she supported me so well, with what I was interested in and wanted to pursue.” Andreya knew that wasn’t always the case, and wanted to make sure T’rif didn’t think she’d been lacking in any way in her life with her mom, aside from of course lacking a father figure.”


Either way, as T’rif finished speaking, including that hesitant comment of ‘if she eventually wanted a dad’ Andreya nodded her head quickly in understanding saying “Yes, I understand. You’re here, as ACM or..” And here she paused before trying out the word for the first time out loud with a small smile “...or as Dad. I do appreciate that. And I do want to have a relationship with you, as your daughter and not just a candidate. Maybe we can...grab a meal or something, along with meeting the family? Of course only when you aren’t swamped by Post-hatching Candidatemaster work, I understand that.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


“She’s improving,” T’rif said. “It’ll be a while, but hopefully she’ll be back to being able to Stand. The others should be a lot easier to meet. I’ll even see if Kassia has time to meet you soon. She’s busy, but she can usually find some time to spare. Rassia should be floating around somewhere. And don’t worry about me, I can make time. Just give me a day or two. I think I have the day after next off, if I can’t fit something in tomorrow. We’ll fit something in then.” 


He wanted to make this work. He really did. Now that he knew she existed, he wasn’t about to let this opportunity go by. He loved Kassia but she’d wasted her chances with her sons, and even somewhat with some of her daughters. But he wasn’t that person. He wanted to be in his daughter’s life as much as he could given that she was no longer a child.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


Smiling wide when T’rif said that Kashara was doing better, Andreya felt her heart-rate spike as he mentioned meeting Kassia soon but she kept herself from tensing up with nerves. When he mentioned specific days he’d be available, either tomorrow or the next day, Andreya nodded excitedly at him. She was glad it wasn’t going to be a vague ‘oh, sometime next week I should be free’ kind of thing, he was actually setting up specific days he’d be able to, hopefully, see her. 


With a grin she added her own faintly amused but enthusiastic sounding reply of “Of course, tomorrow or the next day. Well, you know what my schedule is and when I’m in lessons and whatnot. Other than that, I’ll make sure I’m available.” It was certainly an odd experience planning time to spend with her dad, knowing that *he* knew exactly what her schedule would be on those days.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


“I need to get back to work,” T’rif said, “but we’ll definitely get together. Okay? And if you need me, I’m here.” He gave her another hug. “Are you okay?”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


Even Andreya had gotten the feeling that this talk with T’rif was beginning to wind down, and so she wasn’t surprised when he said he needed to get back to work. Instead she nodded her head understandably and when he pulled her in for a hug she hugged him back tightly. At his question, she nodded first before adding reassuringly “Of course, I understand. And yes. Yes I’m really ok.” She didn’t need to tell him about the mini-meltdown she’d had with her mother earlier, since the nap seemed to have soothed most of the emotional tornado she’d been feeling, and instead continued with a sincere smile “I’m looking forward to the next get together, and getting to introduce you to my new flit, if it’s hatched by then.” 


Then, with an amused grin she added “And, I very much appreciate you worrying about me, you already caring enough about me *to* worry. But you don’t need to make up for all 17 turns of worry all at once, don’t need to give yourself a heart attack just after we’ve met. In fact, you have nothing to make up *for*, Dad. It’s not your fault you didn’t know, after all.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


“I’ll try to worry about you just the right amount,” T’rif said with a smile. “Take care of that egg and I hope it hatches into a nice little flit for you. It was so good to meet you and we’ll get together soon.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


Andreya gave a small amused shake of her head at T’rif’s reply before she said “Yes, it really was. Wonderful, can hardly wait.” Reaching out to place a hand on the egg pot again she finished with “And I will, thank you again so very much for the flit.”


Andreya then oh-so-very carefully picked up the egg pot holder, cradling it in her arms so as not to jostle it, and before she turned to the door she said with a grin “See you soon.” After one last look at him, still surprised at all the new people suddenly in her life, Andreya turned and walked out of the office, opening the door so carefully with her flit egg in one arm and then shutting the door behind her like it had been when she’d first knocked. 



Mothers and Daughters and...Fathers?...Oh My! ((SA: Andreya & Reyara))

Rosiegirl
 

((OOC: Set the morning after the Midsummer Dreamer’s Hatching Feast.))


It was early...much too early in the morning to have this conversation, especially without some fortification which would be completely outrageous for her to have during breakfast...And yet this conversation had already been delayed for many, many Turns. 


After saying farewell to ACM T’rifoshe at the Feast, Reyara had retired to the room she’d been assigned to finally get some rest but she’d struggled to fall asleep as all the possible reactions her daughter might have to this news raced through her head. Despite the confidence she’d displayed to T’rif regarding what she believed Andreya’s reaction would be to this news, in a dark room lying on an uncomfortable cot...all the reactions she didn’t really believe would happen tugged at the edges of her mind keeping her from sleep. 


But finally she slept...for a few hours, anyway. She knew candidates' days normally began early but remembered her daughter mentioning that today was a free day for candidates. Still, her daughter was used to waking up early and Reyara, after all these Turns, didn’t feel like it would be right to delay passing this news onto her daughter. So it would be at breakfast that she’d tell Andreya. As soon as Reyara woke up, she scribbled out a note to her daughter, asking her to meet for breakfast at the lake instead of the dining hall in an attempt for a more private meal with her daughter, and once dressed she found someone to deliver the note to the candidate barracks for her. Then she hurried to the kitchen to get a small breakfast packed for the pair of them into a basket. 


~*~


Despite having retired from the Hatching Feast hours before her mother had, because of the feelings such a traumatic Hatching had raised in her, Andreya had slept just as fitfully as her mother had but for entirely different reasons. Where her mother was kept awake by the news she carried, Andreya was more than slightly troubled by the blue that had struggled to find his lifemate, the eggs that had not hatched, and the mourning cries in the Hatching Cavern echoing through her dreams. She’d jerked awake earlier than she needed to after dreaming of the Hatching, tears fresh on her cheeks and wetting down her pillow. 


Awake so early, with no chance of falling back asleep, Andreya had taken her time waking up, being able to compose herself and get ready for the day so that by the time the other candidates were shifting in their bunks there was no sign of the inner turmoil that had given her trouble sleeping. With it being a free day, Andreya had been able to wear something more than just the horrid yellow candidate shirt, skirt, and regular boots. Instead, needing the pick-me-up that wearing something beautiful gave her, she wore a pretty brown skirt that's tight at the waist before it flowed out and fell a few inches higher up her legs than the candidate uniform’s skirt. Up top she wore a tightly fitted pale blue corset over a flowy white blouse that emphasized her narrow waist even as it stopped just below her bust to help push those curvy assets into the flowy blouse that was under the corset. The neckline of the blouse under the corset could be adjusted so that it the sleeves began at her arms and left her shoulders bare (as she was wearing it now), or could be pulled up so that the neckline covered her shoulders and scooped a little more toward the corset. 


Feeling like a little bit of flash with her outfit, she added one of her favorite brightly patterned scarves tied around her long neck like choker and a thick belt that was slung low around her waist. Despite having been forced into that dreary candidate uniform quite often, she still held herself with every bit of self-confidence, presence, and self-awareness of her own stunning femininity as if she were still in her most provocative of Gather dresses, instead of the still beautiful but more casual clothing she’d picked out for today.. She’d carried herself this way for so long, it was a habit at this point regardless of what she was wearing. 


So, by the time the message from her mother was delivered to her Andreya had not only gotten herself ready for the day but had also finished straightening up her side of the room the little bit she needed to. She’d actually been just about to head to the Dining Hall to meet her mother for breakfast when she was stopped and handed the message. So breakfast was apparently now going to be out at the lake with her mother instead of in the Dining Hall...well, at least she was in one of her more beautiful but still casual skirts and not in one of her nice outfits that would give her trouble with sitting by the lake.  


~*~


It wasn’t that much later before both mother and daughter were at the lake, Reyara having arrived first with the basket and thick blanket to spread out on the grass (knowing her daughter so well). When Andreya arrived, the pair closed the distance in a hug even though they’d just seen each other the night before. Reyara hugged her daughter a bit tighter than she normally did, and Andreya couldn’t fail to notice that although she didn’t know the reason for it. 


Releasing her mother, Andreya smiled saying “It’s such a nice morning, but I’m still surprised you want to eat out here instead of the Dining Hall.” Andreya waved her hand at her mother’s outfit, which was quite a bit nicer than even the outfits Andreya normally wore herself (her mother being a Senior Journeywoman Tailor had it’s perks), and just raised a questioning eyebrow at her mother. 


Reyara, smoothing her hands down her skirt, glanced at her daughter before quickly saying “Oh, I just thought we could have a more private meal than what we’d get in the Dining Hall before I have to leave.” 


Accepting her mother’s reason with a nod, Andreya sat down and folded her legs sideways under her, spreading out her skirt and smoothing it down while her mother joined her sitting on the blanket. 


Mother and daughter both fell silent as they worked in tandem to unpack the breakfast onto the blanket, each not realizing that they’d both had a rough night sleeping. Once they’d finished unpacking the basket, they began to eat in silence enjoying the quiet of the morning and each other’s company.


Reyara, however, felt the news on the tip of her tongue just waiting to be told and knew she’d better get started with the news she had...but maybe after Andreya ate a little more. Reyara was sure her daughter would have a little trouble eating after hearing this news and she wanted to make sure Andreya had eaten a bit first. 


Andreya was just finishing her second meatroll, having already had a bowl of fruit, when she noticed her mother straighten up slightly as a serious look crossed the tailor’s face. Concern flashed across the Harper’s face and before her mother began to speak Andreya asked in a rush “Mom, what’s wrong?”


Reyara had begun to open her mouth when suddenly her daughter’s question froze the words in her throat. Closing her mouth and smiling gently at Andreya, she cleared her throat and then took a sip of juice before she reassured her daughter saying “Nothing’s wrong, I promise sweetheart. You’ve always been so incredibly observant, Andreya, and so talented. I’m so proud of you, whichever path you choose to follow.”


At her mother’s words, Andreya froze for a heartbeat before she quickly reached out to take her mother’s hand asking worriedly “Mom, seriously. What’s going on? Are you sick?” Her mom, talking like this, had the young Harper concerned that there was something wrong health-wise...despite her mom telling her that nothing was wrong. 


‘Oh shells, I’m not doing this right at all!’ Reyara thought as she quickly put down the mug she was holding with her other hand and grasped her daughter’s hand between both of hers. Looking into her daughter’s eyes, trying to be as reassuring as possible, the tailor answered with “No, darling. I’m not sick. Truly, I’m not.” 


Andreya just watched her mother silently, waiting for her mother to continue and actually say what was wrong. When Reyara didn’t continue speaking, the young Harper raised a slender, shapely eyebrow in disbelief and stared at her mother...clearly waiting for more. She knew her mom, she knew by remaining silent and just waiting that Reyara would be compelled to fill the silence and actually explain what was going on. But even as she waited, she felt the worry for her mother getting worse and beginning to tie her stomach into knots. 


When she could see that her daughter didn’t believe her and was still sitting there worried, waiting for Reyara to be honest with her, she let out a small sigh, shaking her head as she muttered softly “Oh shells.” The tailor closed her eyes and raised a hand off her daughter’s to rub her forehead slightly, feeling a small headache beginning to build (caused by either lack of sleep or worry over the news she had). Then after a brief moment, she put her hand back on her daughter’s and raised her eyes to Andreya’s saying in a slightly tired tone of voice “I’m sorry, I’m not doing this right at all…” Taking a breath, she continued with “Last night...well last night I met someone-”


Andreya, who’d been sitting there oh-so-very patiently waiting for her mother to explain what was wrong, even while the churning worry in her stomach got worse, widened her eyes at her mother’s words. Despite, or more precisely because of, Andreya’s love and respect for her mother, that gnawing worry in her stomach suddenly shifted into anger. Anger that her mother had built all this up, causing her to worry, only for it to be because she’d met someone last night and had a roll in the bedfurs?! It was this anger that had Andreya pulling her hand out from between her mothers and interrupting Reyara with “Really...really?! You ‘met someone’ and that’s what you were talking about? What you were leading to? I was worried about you Mom!” Sucking in a breath, realizing she was about to start *really yelling* at her mother, Andreya clamped her jaws shut and mentally counted for a moment to calm herself. She didn’t like how quick her temper rose, and for the most part she was able to stay calm and composed. It was only around her mother that she couldn’t keep it contained as easy, resulting in her mother experiencing her temper most often despite how much Andreya wished she could keep it from erupting out.


The tailor saw her flame-haired daughter’s skin flush and, after turns of experience and despite it having been a while since she’d experienced it, she knew her daughter’s temper was on the rise. So forewarned, she didn’t try to hold onto her daughter’s hand when it was jerked from between her palms. Reyara couldn’t help the slight wince as her daughter’s raised voice pierced her aching head, though, and it was only once Andreya stopped to take a breath that the tailor tried again saying “Hold on, sweetheart. I’m saying that last night I found your father-” 


Andreya, her temper already high, misunderstood what her mother said and any calm she’d managed to scrape together from that deep breath she’d taken just moments ago flew right out the window. She interrupted her mother again, her tone of voice rising ever so slightly. “Found ‘a father’, you think after spending the night with someone, a single night, that he’s going to be my stepfather?! A *stepfather*, really? After this many turns of being just the two of us you still think I need a father figure so bad you’ll marry someone after only a single night? I don’t live at the Hold with you, I haven’t for Turns. I’m living in the Candidate barracks now, so how can you even think I’d need a stepdad that I won’t even be around? I don’t know why you keep looking. I let go of the idea of finding my father *Turns* ago, Mom, why can’t you? Just let it go!” The young Harper, breathing slightly heavy after her outburst, made a move as if to get up off the blanket...clearly upset with her mother and wanting to be done with this conversation.


Reyara, being interrupted by her daughter a *second* time, from experience knew that when Andreya got like this the best thing to do was to let her hot-headed daughter’s temper burn out and then Reyara would be able to explain to where Andreya would actually hear her. So she listened, waiting, bearing the brunt of her daughter’s anger...until, however, Andreya made a move to get up and leave. Oh fracking shells! Reyara couldn’t let Andreya storm off *now* before she had a chance to actually explain! 


And so, before Andreya could actually move enough to get her feet under her and get up off the blanket Reyara grabbed ahold of her daughter’s right wrist just tight enough to keep her from leaving (not enough to hurt). In that stern ‘Listen to Mom!’ voice Reyara scolded her daughter with “Andreya, stop and actually listen!” Then the tailor said the one thing that was sure to get her daughter to stop in her tracks, and exclaimed “I found him! *YOUR* father! Not stepfather at all! Your *actual* father!” 


Andreya had been about to jerk her wrist out of her mom’s hand until Reyara scolded her, and then before Andreya could open her mouth to spar back her mother said something that stopped the Harper’s words in her throat and she froze in shock. Staring at her mother, completely flummoxed, Andreya’s mouth hung open and she remained silent


Taking advantage of her daughter’s shock, Reyara rubbed her forehead again and sighed a moment before she added “I’m sorry, Andreya. That isn’t how I wanted to tell you, nearly yelling it at you to keep you from leaving. But you needed to know. And yes, you did hear me correctly. I ended up finding your father last night, we recognized each other...somehow, after all these turns.” In a softer voice, after replaying what her daughter had nearly snarled in anger, Reyara continued with “I know...I know you didn’t really mean what you said, about giving up on ever knowing him. We both say things we don’t mean when our temper is up. You’ve wanted to know him for turns, asked about him all the time growing up and I know you only stopped asking because you saw how much it hurt that I couldn’t remember more. But now I know who he is. You *can* know your father, sweetheart.” After a pause Reyara added in an even softer tone “...If you want to…”


Andreya could hardly believe it, thought her sleepy brain was playing tricks on her or maybe she was still dreaming. So as she stared at her mother silently, she finally closed her mouth and without a word she raised the hand her mother wasn’t holding and pinched her upper arm hard enough to flinch. When she was still sitting there on the blanket, listening to her mother explain that Andreya had indeed heard her mother correctly, that her mother had *actually found her father*, Andreya let out her breath in a rush and actually felt tears begin to well at the corners of her eyes. 


Swallowing hard and taking several breaths to fight the unexpectedly sudden tears, still listening to her mother, Andreya shook her head in disbelief of what she’d said just moments ago...that she’d let go of finding her father. She’d just been angry at her mother, misunderstanding and wanting to hurt the way Reyara had hurt her. She hadn’t meant it...not deep down...and her mother knew that. The tailors last softly spoken words pulled a gasping sob from Andreya and the tears wouldn’t be stopped now. 


Taking a gasping breath, fighting to stop crying (not actually *wanting* to be crying at this news), Andreya managed to get out, stutteringly “Mom...really? You...you did? You found him? Here?” 


Reyara, knowing this would shock Andreya, watched the myriad of emotions cross her daughter’s face and her eyes get wet with tears. It was as the tears won the battle and began to flow with Andreya’s gasping sob that Reyara finally let go of her daughter’s wrist with a “Oh, sweetie, come here!” and leaned forward on the blanket to pull Andreya into a tight hug, running her hand comfortingly down her daughter’s back and making soothing ‘shushing’ sounds. As she hugged her daughter, trying to comfort her, she heard the questions Andreya sobbed into her neck and said “Yes, really. I did. I promise, sweetheart. He’s here.” 


When Reyara pulled her in for a hug, Andreya went gladly as her arms wrapped around her mother and she lowered her head to her mom’s shoulder. All the emotions, from the past 2 days, from the Hatching that had ended so sadly to the news from today, coupled with her rough night’s sleep would have sent anyone into a sobbing mess, even if it hadn’t currently been Andreya’s ‘time of the month’. And so Andreya sobbed into her mom’s neck for several long minutes, feeling Reyara rub her back in soothing circles and hearing that gentle ‘shushing’ noise of reassurance, until the Harper was able to pull herself together a bit. 


When the sobbs finally subsided a bit, Andreya dropped her arms from around Reyara and leaned back, so that they were no longer hugging. Taking a napkin and wiping off her face, Andreya took a moment to blow her nose and then take several deep breaths to make sure she wasn’t going to start crying again. Once she felt as composed as she was going to get, she turned to her mother, who’d just been waiting for her daughter to be ready, and opened her mouth to ask...well, she wasn’t sure. 


Closing her mouth again, the Harper considered what she wanted her first question to be about him, not quite sure if she was ready to go straight to ‘what’s his name?’. Instead, after a moment Andreya asked “So, were you correct? Is he a rider like you thought?” 


Knowing her daughter needed to process this in her own time, Reyara held herself back from saying anything before Andreya was ready to ask, holding herself back from just blurting out what his name was to the Harper. At the first question, she nodded her head and simply said “Yes, I was. He’s a rider...a bronzerider actually.”


Nodding her head at this piece of information and storing it away, Andreya fell silent again considering her next question before finally asking a little hesitant as if unsure if she wanted to know “Last night, you found him. Did you...does he know about me now? Did you tell him?” 


Again, Reyara nodded her head in reply before explaining more with “Yes, I told him. He knows about you, your name and that you’re a Harper turned candidate.” Reyara took a breath, about to add more, before she remembered that she was going to wait for Andreya to ask and not give her any more information than she’d asked for. 


The young Harper, at hearing that her father knew about her, let out a relieved breath but noticed that her mother stopped herself from adding any more information. She knew what her next question would be...and she was afraid to ask it should it break her heart. It didn’t matter, all the work she’d done in the past to keep herself safe from guys who would hurt her. She’d prepared her mental walls so as not to be hurt by sweet-talking guys, not to keep her heart safe from her father breaking it. And so she hesitated, looking down at the blanket, out across the quiet lake, up at the bright morning sky, anywhere but at her mother who was just waiting so very silently and patiently. Finally, closing her eyes and taking a steadying breath, she looked back at her mother and asked “Does he want to know me?...Does he even want a daughter he never knew he had?...Was he...was he happy to find out?” 


When Andreya finally spoke, asked the questions that Reyara clearly had been waiting for, the tailor smiled wide at her daughter and replied reassuringly with “Yes, sweetheart. A very resounding yes to all three of your questions. When I told him, his first reaction was a huge smile. He was excited to know, very excited. And yes, he wants to know you...as long as you also want to know him. He knows you’re...nearly grown, might not suddenly want a father in your life. So, he’s leaving it up to you. If you want him as a father, he’ll be waiting. If not, he’ll accept that as well. It’s your choice entirely.” 


She was tense as she waited for her mother to answer these most important questions, and when Reyara smiled so wide the Harper knew the answer before her mother even spoke. Closing her eyes in relief as her held breath escaped in a woosh, Andreya wiped away the single tear that escaped down her cheek. He wanted to know her! Taking in a breath again, Andreya opened her eyes to focus on her mother and her words, unable to keep the smile off her face. As Reyara told her that the choice was hers, that her father was leaving it up to her to decide if they were going to have that father/daughter relationship, Andreya nodded in understanding. She was glad that whoever her father was...understood that this was life changing news, and that she might have conflicting feelings about having a father in her life. That was...amazing of him, that he was leaving the choice to her. Yes, she was sure she’d want to know him, but the fact that if she had not wanted to have him as her father that he’d just respect her choice and let her live her life was...a pleasant surprise and a huge point in his favor already.


Knowing there was really only...one last question to ask, Andreya clasped her hands together tightly in front of her as she focused on her mother. Taking in one more steadying breath, she asked in a quiet voice “Ok...I...I’m ready Mom. Who is he? Who is...my father?”


Reyara had watched as her daughter went from tense to immensely relieved, even lifted a hand as if to wipe the tear off her daughter’s cheek before she’d lowered it again. When Andreya wiped the tear away and smiled so brightly, Reyara felt Turns of horrible guilt lift up off her heart and she wanted to cry in relief at her daughter’s happiness. When Andreya said she was ready and finally asked for his name, Reyara reached out and grasped her daughter’s clasped hands between her own before she answered with “You met him before actually. It’s Assistant Candidatemaster T’rifoshe...he’s your father, sweetie.”


Andreya didn’t think she’d be able to be any more shocked today, but she was totally wrong. Feeling her mother’s warm hands close around her own, Andreya waited to hear his name from her mother’s lips. Her eyebrows raised in surprise as Reyara said that she’d already met her dad, but before Andreya could mentally go through the list of bronzeriders she’d met her mother said his name and she froze, once again, in shock. 


‘Assistant Candidatemaster T’rifoshe?! That was her father??’ flashed through her head. Andreya’s lips parted in instant denial, ‘I mean really, he couldn’t be her father! She’d have known when they met...wouldn’t she?’, but she smothered that denial before it could be voiced as the memory of meeting ACM T’rifoshe flashed through her head and her eyes widened in surprise. As she remembered staring up at his eyes and being astonished as she thought they were a mirror of her own, and then remembering that she convinced herself she was imagining things. Apparently...she *hadn’t* been imagining things after all. 


Closing her eyes and giving her head a shake to jolt her out of her shocked state, Andreya finally opened her eyes again and remarked in a voice sounding still a bit dumbfounded “I...I can’t believe it. His eyes...I’d thought when we met they looked familiar, but convinced myself I was wrong. I...I did meet him. You remembered that I told you that, that he’s the ACM who did my candidate interview...He’s my father? Assistant Candidatemaster T’rifoshe?”


Reyara watched her daughter go through a wide range of emotions upon hearing his name, from shock to instant (almost) denial to remembering...and then finally to (still slightly disbelieving) acceptance. The tailor nodded her head at her daughter’s dumbfounded statements saying with a grin “Yes, he is. For sure and certain, he is. He remembered… remembered me and that night, everything came back to us.” Here Reyara raised one of her hands off of Andreya’s clasped hands and brushed back a strand of her daughter’s distinct coppery-red hair behind her ear before laying a hand against her daughter’s cheek and adding “And yes, sweetie, his eyes...his eyes are a mirror of yours. Your first instinct was correct there.” Reyara then let her hand fall back to lay on top of Andreya’s


As Reyara confirmed, yet again, that the ACM was her father, the idea settled itself into the Harper’s thoughts and Andreya nodded slowly even as her mind raced, suddenly no longer frozen in a daze. Slowly as Andreya’s thoughts solidified she said “My father is an Assistant Candidatemaster, and...and I’m a candidate.” Then, as she remembered a specific (albeit short) part of her candidate interview where T’rif asked her about her knowledge and experience about flights, Andreya’s cheeks quickly gained a bright red blush as she mumbled “Oh my!” 


Reyara, listening as Andreya worked through her thoughts, nodded her head to her daughter’s first words. At Andreya’s bright blush and mumbled words, however, Reyara raised an eyebrow curiously but didn’t ask what her daughter had just thought about. Instead, she decided now would be a good time to add (even though she was sure her daughter would know) with a bit more of a serious tone in her voice “Yes, he is ACM and you’re a candidate...and if you do decide to have him in your life you will need to remember that there will be a difference between him being your ACM while he’s on duty..and your father when he’s off duty.” After a moment of debate, wanting to make sure she was clear with everything, she added “That means, you’re a candidate like everyone else, no special advantages because of this new connection.”


Andreya, trying to ignore the embarrassment of what she’d inadvertently told her father during her candidate interview, was glad when her mother began speaking again and gave her something else to focus on. But when what Reyara was saying actually registered with the Harper, Andreya straightened her back slightly and gently pulled her hands out from between her mothers as she felt offended that her mother felt the need to say this...It felt like Andreya was being scolded for something before she’d even done what she was being scolded for! Of course she’d have thought to separate ‘Father T’rifoshe’ from ‘ACM T’rifoshe’, why would Reyara ever think she’d have not known to differentiate between the two? It would be like being in lessons and calling the teacher ‘dad’, oh what a horrifyingly embarrassing thought! And as to taking advantage… Andreya had never asked for handouts, never taken something she hadn’t felt like she’d worked for, so she didn’t understand why her mother felt the need to warn her not to take advantage of this new connection. However, instead of letting that offended feeling take over Andreya kept her face calmly blank and just acknowledged what her mother said with a small nod and a slightly short sounding “Of course, Mother. I understand.” 


Even knowing that Andreya was sure to take offence at her words, Reyara had known that she’d needed to say it, to warn her daughter even though she believed the warning to be completely unnecessary. She’d wanted to make sure Andreya’s relationship with her father got started off on the right foot, so that T’rif wouldn’t feel like he’d needed to say what she’d just told Andreya. Reyara could take the hit and be the ‘bad guy’ here in order to help things get started smoothly between Andreya and T’rif. So when Andreya straightened up and she saw the signs that her words had indeed upset Andreya, when her daughter pulled her hands away from hers, Reyara let them go and instead folded her hands in her lap. As Andreya responded in a short tone of voice, Reyara nodded and said with a smile at her daughter “Wonderful, I had no doubts that you would.” And then, instead of dwelling on the topic that had upset her daughter, Reyara lifted a hand and gestured at Andreya’s hair as she stated with a small grin “We now have another mystery solved, at last...We know how you have such wonderfully colored red hair.”


Andreya was still sitting there a bit stiffly, not quite as willing to let her offended feelings just be smoothed over, but after a moment she decided to follow her mother’s change of subject and asked politely (and a bit curiously) “Alright, I’ll bite...how?” 


Reyara paused after Andreya asked her question, letting it sit in the air between them as she let the suspense build for a moment. The tailor had a small gleam in her eye, knowing this was going to leave Andreya (possibly) more thunderstruck than the fact that she now knew who her father was. After that pause, Reyara couldn’t hold back the smile as she said “From T’rifoshe’s niece, meaning your cousin...Weyrwoman Kassia.” 


Knowing her mother was teasing her a little, building the suspense by waiting to answer, Andreya couldn’t help the slightly exasperated look she gave the tailor. An exasperated look when Reyara finally spoke and said who Andreya’s new cousin was. At hearing the name, Andreya’s mouth dropped open yet again as she was totally flabbergasted… ‘She was a cousin to Weyrwoman Kassia?! No sharding way!’ Andreya thought, even as her Harper trained brain began to connect the dots. ‘Kassia was her cousin, meaning Kassia’s children...were related to her too...as second cousins? No...that wasn’t quite right. But some form of cousin, surely.’  


As Andreya tried to adjust to knowing about her father to suddenly having a lot more family connections due to being T’rif’s daughter, and *wow* those connections, it took Andreya far longer than it really should have to think about Shalia’s new connection with her. When it hit the Harper her eyes widened just a touch more as she thought ‘Shalia! Oh little green flits, that’s right! Shalia’s now...kinda-sorta related to me now too...Not *blood* related...but related through adoption by Kassia. Oh my…’ Here her mind began to replay memories of her and Shalia’s meeting, and the times they’d hung out together since, but before she could get too far thinking things over Andreya raised her hands to her face and shook her head abruptly to halt her thoughts saying maybe a bit too loud “Nope, no no no…”


Reyara, having expected the shocked reaction to her daughter finding out she was Weyrwoman Kassia’s cousin, had just sat there with that small grin on her face waiting for Andreya to absorb this tidbit of information. However, when Andreya went from astonishment to covering her face and just repeating ‘no’, Reyara’s grin morphed into a concerned look in an instant. Beginning to reach out a hand to put on Andreya’s shoulder, she said in a worried voice “Andreya, sweetie...it’s ok. It’ll be ok.” She didn’t know why *this* information, of all the news Reyara had shared today, seemed to put her daughter into this state, but she still tried to reassure Andreya as much as she could. 


Right as Reyara’s hand landed gently on her shoulder, as the Harper heard her mother’s worried voice trying to reassure her, Andreya sat back abruptly so that her mother's hand was no longer on her shoulder. Giving another hard shake of her head, Andreya finally put her hands back down and moved to get up off the blanket very quickly while at the same time exclaiming “Yes, I’m fine Mom, don’t worry. But nope, I’m not thinking about all the...all the new family. I...I need some time, just a bit, to adjust...to...to T’rifoshe being my father before I start thinking about Weyrwoman Kassia and...and all my new cousins too. It’s...it’s just too much too fast. Way too fast!”


As Andreya jerked back from her touch, a flash of hurt, quickly hidden, passed over Reyara’s face while she watched her daughter. When Andreya began to hurry and get up off the blanket this time Reyara didn’t stop her. In fact, the tailor rushed to stand up too even as she listened to her daughter’s rush of words. As Andreya stopped speaking, Reyara hurried to reassure her daughter saying “It’s fine, of course you need time. I totally understand, this is a lot I’ve laid at your feet this morning. Darling, it’s ok to feel this way, truly.”


Andreya looked like a spooked runner on the edge of galloping away as she stood there, hearing her mother’s reassuring words even as they washed over the overwhelmed Harper without actually sinking in. Still, she nodded a bit mechanically at her mother’s words before swallowing hard and stating in a voice only slightly less upset than her previous outburst “Thank you, Mom, for telling me...well, everything. I’m glad that you found him, honestly I am. I know it probably doesn’t look like it...but I am. I just...I just need some time. Just give me some time with it all and I’ll...I’lll go and talk with him. I promise Mom…” Taking a steading breath, Andreya finished “I’m glad you came, despite how yesterday’s Hatching went. I just...I need to go. I need to think. I’m sorry I can’t spend more time with you before you go..I just need...I need to go. I love you.” 


Seeing her daughter so torn, wanting to stay with her but at the same time desperate to go find a quite place to...well, do whatever she needed to do, Reyara quickly pulled Andreya into a tight hug saying “I know, sweetie, I know. It’s ok. I’ll be just a flit message away if you need me.” And then she released her daughter after placing a kiss on her forehead saying “I love you too, my darling girl. I’m so proud of you.”


With those parting words from her mother, Andreya turned and fled, hurrying across the Weyrbowl back to her room, hoping that her roommates would be gone to breakfast. 


Reyara watched as her daughter raced away across the Weyrbowl, worried about her daughter but knowing this was something Andreya needed to come to terms with by herself. ‘At least’ Reyara thought to herself ‘Andreya did want T’rif in her life. That’s something..’ When Andreya disappeared through the candidate barracks doorway, Reyara let out a little sigh as she looked down at the meal spread across the blanket. 


Reyara had been right, like she’d thought...Andreya hadn’t eaten another bite once Reyara had begun to tell her daughter the news. Reyara carefully gathered up their breakfast, everything else having not been touched by either tailor or harper, and put it in the basket. Once she gathered up the blanket, she decided to go ahead and tell T’rif now...in case he saw Andreya before she went to seek out T’rif herself. And, she could see if he’d want some breakfast too, as what she’d put away was still warm.



[Hatching Feast] Meeting Old Friends ((JP: T'rif & Reyara))

Rosiegirl
 

((OOC: This is a late JP post for the MD's Hatching Feast.))


It was much later during the Hatching Feast, Reyara having already seen and spent several hours with her daughter who had been quite downcast even though she’d tried her best not to show it. 


Andreya, having been up quite late the night before trying to cram the study material she’d received from ACM T’rifoshe, had taken the near (and then actual) tragedy of her first actual Hatching she’d ever stood for harder than expected. The new candidate had worn, instead of the amazingly sensual dress she’d been planning to wear, a still beautiful but much subdued dress and done her best to cover up her red-rimmed eyes. She knew she was going to see her mother and didn’t want to disappoint Reyara by showing up at the Feast in anything that looked the least bit shabby, or even worse...out of fashion. But Andreya’s heart hadn’t been invested in the Feast, despite getting to see her mother again. So, after several hours of accompanying her mother, talking with her, telling her stories, pointing out people she’d met, Andreya had excused herself from the Feast, promising to see her mother tomorrow before Reyara got a lift back home. 


Reyara, having noticed her daughter’s mood and being concerned, had of course not minded her daughter excusing herself early...even though it was a party and she was surprised her daughter wanted to miss it. But Reyara had also been affected by the horrible morning keening of the dragons, and so she wished her daughter a good night’s rest and promised to see her in the morning. 


And then, once Andreya had left for bed, Reyara had danced with a few riders who asked. Her stunning purple dress that complimented her blond hair flowed out from her legs with each spinning turn on the dancefloor, but then she politely declined any further invitations to dance. 


She instead sat down at a table a little ways away and proceeded to have...several more glasses of wine to try and get that terribly sad morning sound out of her memory. She’d heard a dragon’s keening before...but never been in a Weyr full of them to hear the walls ringing with hundreds of dragons keening in morning at the same time and it had been...bone chillingly unsettling to experience.


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As the Candidate Counselor, T’rifoshe had spent the afternoon and evening comforting various Candidates traumatized by the unhatched Hatchlings and those that hadn’t Hatched. As usual, the line was long, though perhaps a bit longer due to the sadness of the eggs, but most of the Candidates had been around long enough to know how the usual process went and drowned their sorrows in their own way whether in the comfort of their friends, alcohol, food, solitude, or or sex. Finally the line of Candidates thinned and ended until he had time to head to the Hatching Feast where he could enjoy some food himself, while also keeping watch on the Candidates who remained.


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Reyara had just finished another glass of wine, her...4th, and decided to get another. Standing up, when she felt a little more wobbly than she thought she should Reyara realized that the reason is she’d not really eaten much, especially not since Andreya had left. Deciding to get a plate of food, with *maybe* another glass of wine, Reyara went to the food tables with her empty wine-mug in hand. 


Standing in line, looking at the food on display with her free hand against the table to keep her balance, Reyara was just about to pick up a plate and start choosing things to eat when she glanced up and noticed someone on the other side of the food table, picking out his own food. Reyara’s eyes glanced over his knots first, not only a bronzerider but part of the candidatemaster team of riders, and then her gaze lifted to the man’s face. As she looked at him, taking in eyes that were the same eyes she’d been looking into every day since her daughter’s birth (at least until Andreya left for the Weyr), it was several heartbeats before she noticed the man those very familiar eyes belonged to and the memories (and feelings) flooded back to her making her lips part in a small gasp. 


Hardly daring to believe her own eyes, wondering if she’d had too much wine and her thoughts were playing tricks on her, she stood there staring at T’rifoshe for a little longer than would seem polite. Looking up at him with her own eyes looking a bit startled from recognizing him, from her slightly shorter height of 5’9”, Reyara’s lips curved into a smile of welcome, with a hint of sensual promise, as she greeted him saying “Hello.” The normal greeting of ‘fair skies, or happy hatching feast’ didn’t feel quite right today. Reyara kept herself from striking a sensual pose or tossing her hair over her shoulder, not wanting to scare him off by coming on too strong, and instead she finally picked up her own plate and began to pick a few things, no longer feeling hungry in the slightest but already here and needing something to soak up the wine sitting heavy in her stomach now. As her hands moved across the table, Reyara asked politely but with a hint of sadness “Are you...enjoying the Feast, despite earlier?”


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“I am, thank you,” T’rifoshe said with a smile that he offered in general, but more than one woman had confused for flirting. Something about the woman niggled as something that seemed familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. Pushing the thought away, he kept filling his place as he said, “I’m ACM T’rifoshe, but most people call me T’rif.” 


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Reyara returned his smile with an even brighter one saying “Wonderful!” And as he provided his name, a name she tucked away in the depths of her wine-soaked mind determined not to forget it *this* time, she placed her wine-mug on the table and reached across offering her hand as she said “I’m Senior Journeywoman Tailor Reyara, it’s a pleasure to meet you T’rif.” She wondered if he’d remember her, despite how long it had been, and added as if to prompt him to remember “I’m a Feast guest, like so many here today...Andreya’s mother. She mentioned today that you’d done her candidate interview.”


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“Ah yes, very polite young girl that came in recently,” T’rif said. “I’m sorry to hear that she didn’t Impress, but she’s young enough that she’ll have plenty of opportunities if she chooses to keep Standing. I’m glad that you were able to come support her.” He finished filling his plate, then gestured. “Would you like to come sit with me?”


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Reyara was pleased to hear that Andreya had been polite, but of course her daughter would have been. At the ACM’s condolences on her daughter’s non-impression, and reassurance that Andreya would still have more chances, Reyara nodded at his words saying as she finished filling her plate “I’m sure she’ll keep standing until she either ages out or Impresses. She’s very determined to be a rider. And I’ll be sure to come for each Hatching she stands for, if there’s enough time to get here of course.”. 


At his offer, Reyara nodded again, making sure not to look too eager, and said “That would be wonderful, T’rif, thank you.” She refilled her wine-mug, with juice this time instead of wine, and picked up her plate to follow him. Glancing around, she noticed an unoccupied table a bit in the corner and suggested with a nod of her head “What do you think about that table?” 


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“We do our best to get everyone to the Hatching, but we’re not always successful,” T’rif acknowledged. He looked around at the table she suggested and gestured. “After you. Tell me about yourself Reyara.” He doubted if he’d ever actually met that woman, but if he had maybe that would jog a memory. Maybe they’d run into each other at a Gather or something. It was always possible.


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Reyara nodded to his first comment saying “I understand. It’s not like the eggs give you a lot of warning sometimes, at least that I’ve heard anyway.” At his approval of the table, Reyara nodded and began walking toward it. She attempted a sensual sway of her hips, hoping he’d be watching, but it put too much of a wobble in her step so that she felt slightly unsteady so she quickly stopped the hip sway. Walking the rest of the way to the table, Reyara said “Oh, there’s not so very much to tell. I’ve lived in Arolos Hold all my life, trained as a tailor specializing in fancier ‘Gather-type’ fashions, was promoted to Journeywomen when I was 21, a little bit before I had Andreya. She, of course, gets her love of the newest fashions from me.”


By this time they’d reached the table and Reyara stayed standing waiting for him to pick his seat before she would place her own plate and mug on the table. 


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“Please, sit.” T’rif had noticed her sway, though he’d noticed it more as what looked more like a drunken stumble to him and he didn’t want her to fall over. He gestured as he sat down and put down his own mug and plate. “Myself, I’m from Fort, but came here as soon as I could. I was Candidate Master for a stint, but that didn’t suit me, so later I became Assistant Candidate Master where I specialize in helping those Candidates who struggle and could use an extra ear to listen. I’ve been doing that ever since.” 


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Sitting down across from him, Reyara carefully put her plate and mug down in front of her as she listened to him. Her expression showed sincere interest, and as he said that he chose what most would assume would be a demotion, to go from being Candidate Master to just Assistant Candidate Master, surprise flickered over her face briefly. Once he finished, she smiled at him and replied with “That’s wonderful, that you’re a Counselor to the candidates. You must be a great listener. I’m sure there’s a bit of a shock for those holder and crafter kids who become candidates, not to say that Weyr-born kids wouldn’t sometimes have issues too, though. How’s Andreya been handling becoming a candidate? Has she needed to come see you, aside from the initial interview? And how long have you been at Arolos?”  


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“Ah, now, I’m not allowed to discuss details of Candidates,” T’rif said, though his tone was pleasant as he started to cut into his steak. “But as you can see, she was able to Stand, which is always a good thing. As to whether she’s having any issues or not, that’s something she’d have to discuss with you. But like I said earlier, she was very pleasant to me when I met her. I will say that. And very well dressed. At least until she had to change into the Candidate outfit. And then they all look the same.” He winked at her.


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Reyara had not expected to not get a response when she’d asked about Andreya, so she looked surprised when he’d declined to answer for a moment. Staring at him a couple heartbeats, she realized that of course he couldn’t tell her anything... he was counselor to the Candidates, and sometimes Candidates might not have great tales from home when they arrived. After his wink, she gave a rueful shake of her head saying “Oh, of course. Forgive me for asking...just a mother’s worry for her daughter, you know? And yes, I did see her on the Sands, although it took a moment to find her in all the white robes. It was her red hair that stood out the most.” And here Reyara let out a bit of a laugh before saying “Oh, those Candidate outfits! You better believe I heard about those today...how...well, how uniform they make her look with everyone else! And of course they do, they’re uniforms.” 


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“It’s for a reason of course,” T’rifoshe said. “But the Candidates still find their own ways to stand out. And yes, that hair is distinct, though she’s not the only one in the Weyr that has it. We have a couple of very notable people in the Weyr that have hair that is very similar. Our Weyrwoman, for instance.”


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Nodding her head, she was about to comment when she was surprised by his second statement about Andreya’s hair being similar to the Weyrwoman’s and Reyara’s eyes widened a bit as she said “Oh really? There’s that many people with red hair in the Weyr? I didn’t realize the Weyrwoman has red hair like Andreya does.” 


Going back to her initial though, and thinking about a way to see if she could spark his memory, Reyara gave a small shake of her head and said with amusement “Oh, I bet they do find ways to stand out. I remember being her age...striving to stand out as a tailor apprentice where everyone is already fairly individual in their clothing styles. The lengths I would go to..I still remember the dress I created, when I was promoted to Journeywomen, that I wore to a Gather. It was...one to remember. A stunning, sensual, long slip of fabric in an amazingly beautiful fabric, vibrant purple, only one shoulder, rushing all across the middle to help it cling, and that high split just a touch off center, the bottom flowing around as I moved...” She stopped herself before continuing with too many details about the dress, her cheeks blushing as she dropped her eyes coyly to the table and asked in a soft voice “My apologies, I remember that dress fondly...did you do much to stand out when you were younger?”


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“I...” He opened his mouth opened to answer, but he stopped and frowned as a memory came back. No, it couldn’t be the same woman he’d shared a wonderful time with so many turns ago. But that dress? It sounded so familiar. He closed his mouth. “Forgive me. That dress just sounded so familiar to me. I remember spending a wonderful time with a woman a long time ago with a dress very similar, but memory is a funny thing.”


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She was hoping he’d remember her, in that dress, and when he started talking she had a brief flash of disappointment..and then he hesitated. Looking up from the table, she couldn’t help the hopeful look in her eyes as she gazed across the table at him. Waiting, heart in her throat, for him to speak again, when he did and said the dress was familiar...and remembered a woman in a similar dress, Reyara’s eyes widened. 


“You remember? Remember that dress, remember me? I...I saw you and I felt certain I remembered, you looked so familiar...and your eyes. But I didn’t just want to blurt out that I thought I remembered you from that night even though you looked so familiar. And I never remembered your name, I’d drunk so much that night to celebrate.” Her smile widened, her heart light and her stomach fluttering around with nerves as if she was still in her 20’s. What would he think of her now that she was almost 40, if he remembered her as that pretty young woman? 


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“Yes, I think I remember,” he said, smile widening. “I remember getting some nice bubblies and dancing before some fun...under the stars.” They hadn’t even gotten back to his weyr if he’d remembered correctly. 


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Reyara’s blush deepened as the memories of that night rose up at his words. Smiling at him, a bit shy now that he remembered her, she said “Yes, I remember the dancing and...and the stars. There have been lots of times in the turns since that I wish I could have remembered more...beyond you being a rider, which somedays I thought my memories were playing tricks on me.  Remembered...so that there could have been other nights just as amazing…” Reyara couldn’t help the small wistful sigh as she remembered, even this many years later, before she realized what she’d done and her blush got even deeper. 


As she finished, those memories pulling at her, Reyara wondered if she should even ask if he was attached to someone right now. She wine and no food was pushing her to ask, to be bold, and she didn’t really want to fight that feeling...But she remembered back then and how things had been a bit slower to build between them, so she fought back that too bold question. Instead, slightly embarrassed, she picked up her juice and took a sip as she lowered her eyes a bit to try (and fail) to compose herself a bit. 


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T’rif smiled. “I’ve thought back to that night sometimes myself,” he admitted. Perhaps not as often as she had, but occasionally. “I’m pleased to have met you again Reyara. “It’s amazing to have run into you again. “What have you been doing all this time? Surely you must have a mate or children?”


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Returning his smile, Reyars couldn’t be disappointed that she’d not been in his thoughts like he’d been in hers. He was a rider, a handsome rider, after all. Reyara’s smile widened at his words and him being happy to see her again. She opened her mouth to say she was so very glad to have run into him again too, when he asked after if she had a mate or children. 


So, her first words of “I’m so gla-” cut off abruptly and instead of what she was going to say, his words made her eyes widen in sudden realization as the wine-fog of ‘Here he is! I found him again!’ cleared enough for her to realize what she should have already said. Her mouth snaped shut for a moment and she swallowed hard at being face-to-face and delivering this news to him after so many Turns. 


Before she began speaking, she raised her hand and began to reach to touch his... but before she touched him she thought better and pulled her hand back, something he was sure to have noticed. Then, in a voice quite different from earlier, that actually sounded a bit hesitant of his reaction, Reyara said “T’rif...oh shells, I wish I could have remembered more to find you earlier. So I could tell you...Please forgive me for not being able to tell you sooner. Andreya is yours, she’s your daughter.” And she fell silent, looking up at his face to see his reaction to her news.


As she began to tell him, all the guilt she’d felt when Andreya had been growing, asking after her father, and she’d not been able to remember enough, it had been her fault she couldn’t remember and that guilt had always lain heavy on her shoulders, as it did now while telling T’rif. 


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


T’rifoshe was quiet for a long moment as he processed. His daughter? He had children out there through Monifa, but she’d taken them North and he didn’t get to see them. And he had another, Trifali, that had been taken from him so selfishly, that he hadn’t seen for turns. But here was one he’d never known even existed.


“That...explains the hair,” he said. Then a slow smile spread across his face. “There’s no need to feel bad. I completely understand. I’m just glad to know now.” He frowned slightly as he searched her face. “Do you want her to know?”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


As T’rif stayed silent and she watched him, Reyara pulled her hands to her lap and wrung them together a bit, nervous for his reaction. The tailor’s mind was busy going through all kinds of scenarios, most of them being him angry at her (because of her own internalized guild) and even others where he didn’t care that he had a kid. 


When he began to speak, Reyara pulled her thoughts forcefully away from those scenarios to focus on T’rif’s actual reaction. She stayed very still as he mentioned ‘the hair’, thinking about her own blond hair and how she’d always wondered where her daughter’s red hair had come from as she’d not remembered Andreya’s father having red hair himself. 


Then when T’rif slowly smiled, Reyara let out a relieved breath and her tense shoulders suddenly relaxed and drooped. She smiled at T’rif when he reassured her and said he was glad to know. At his next question of if she wanted Andreya to know, Reyara’s eyes blinked at him in surprise before she said “Why would I not want her to know about you? She’s asked about her father for Turns, wanting to hear ‘the dad story’, as she called it, all the time…” Here she blushed before adding “The story was much edited of course. Granted, she asked more when she was younger than once she was older...I think she finally accepted that I’d told her all I could remember.” 


After a pause, Reyara returned the question and asked T’rif seriously “You’re currently her Candidate Master. Do you want her to know? Would that cause problems for you? With...with a mate or someone?”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


“It’s not unusual for there to be family relationships between ACMs and Candidates,” T’rif assured her. “It’s up to the ACM to make sure that they can maintain an ability to keep a distinct difference between when they’re on duty and when they’re being family. I was Candidate Master when Kassia was Candidate. And her daughters are Candidates currently.” He dropped the name casually, a habit that indicated that he forgot that she wouldn’t know that he was (and therefore Andreya was) related to the Weyrwoman. “There will be no problem, so long as Andreya has no problem understanding the difference.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


Listening carefully, Reyara was not surprised that he began with the question relating to his position as Candidate Master first. What did surprise her was the namedrop, and how it related to the conversation. Surprised her to the point that her mouth fell open at mention of Kassia and then Kassia’s daughters, even as she played back what he’d just said to try and make it connect in her still slightly wine-fogged thoughts. 


His last comment, about there not being a problem, Reyara just nodded in response to because she was still processing the previous information. She started saying first “I’m sure Andreya will be able to understand, even though the fact that she actually knows who her father is now will be a bit of a surprise to adjust to.” Then, after taking a sip of juice to have a moment to think, in a voice that sounded a little bit uncertain Reyara asked “You...you mentioned Weyrwoman Kassia just a moment ago...You’re...um...related to her, I take it?”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


“What? Oh, yeah.” T’rif realized belatedly his blunder. He normally didn’t make a big deal out of the connection. He made no effort to hide the relationship, but didn’t play it up either. “I’m her uncle.” And the grandfather of some of her children, but he kept it simple.

He cleared his throat. “Not that the Candidate program tolerates anyone trying to take advantage of anyone with connections to her trying to take advantage of that any more than they would connections to me, but I would be very glad to let Andreya know that she’s my daughter and I hope she would be glad to know. I’m happy to have her as a daughter, if she’s interested. Or just as a Candidate, if she’s not interested.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


Sitting there, her hand still around her juice mug, Reyara’s eyes widened a bit at the ‘yeah, I’m her uncle.’...It was said so casually, him confirming being related to the Weyrwoman that Reyara’s reaction was quite simply just an “Oh!” as her brain mentally readjusted to this revelation and connected the dots of Andreya’s new family connections. Father is T’rif, uncle to Kassia...meaning Andreya is Kassia’s cousin, and second cousin to Kassia’s children. 


Her mouth opened for a moment, but then she realized she was about to state the obvious connecting Andreya to her newly acquired cousin and she quickly covered by taking another sip of juice before saying “Well, Andreya will certainly be shocked about this new connection too.”


Then T’rif cleared his throat to continue speaking, and at his words Reyara abruptly straightened in her seat as a flash of indignation passed through her at him thinking that Andreya would take advantage of new connections like that, that *she* could have raised a daughter who’d do that. But then Reyara’s better angle convinced her that *of course* he couldn’t know better about either Andreya or her, he didn’t really even know them after all. Taking a breath, considering her words, Reyara explained “Andreya has always been determined to do things on her own, quite independent. I don’t expect that to change at finding out about her father, or her cousins. So I wouldn’t be concerned with her taking unfair advantage all of a sudden.” 


Here she smiled though and added “And I’m glad you’d want Andreya to know. She wanted to know, growing up...so I’m certain once she gets over her surprise she’ll be happy to connect with you. I couldn’t imagine her being uninterested or wanting nothing to do with you.” As she finished though, her thoughts finished with ‘and I’d be happy to get to know you too’., but she left those words unsaid...for the moment. 


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


T’rif smiled. “I wouldn’t expect her to,” he said. “She didn’t seem the type when I met her. We should have plenty of time to get to know each other while she Stands. And perhaps you and I?” He smiled wider at that, feeling perhaps a little bold himself.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


Reyara, smoothed by his reassurances of his opinion of his newly acquired daughter, let her internal hackles smooth back down at his words. She nodded at him getting to know her while she’s a candidate, however long that might be. At his last words, about wanting to get to know her too, Reyara’s smile turned a bit sultry as she reached out a hand to touch his saying as her voice lowered just a touch “I would like that very much.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


T’rif took her hand and squeezed it back. He might not be the type to want to jump into furs, but he wasn’t immune to manly desires and here was a beautiful woman who he’d had at least one night of fun with before. He was happy to consider getting to know her better.

“The nice thing about having a dragon is that it’s easy for me to come visit,” he said. “And it makes it easier to visit your daughter, too.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


‘Oh shells!’ Reyara thought as T’rif taking and squeezing her hand made the butterflies in her stomach start frantically flying around like she was still in her teens with her first crush. Trying to get ahold of herself, she left her hand in his reveling in his warm skin against hers, his hand encompassing hers smaller one. His words earned him a nod as she said with growing excitement “Oh yes, that will certainly make things much easier for us. I very much look forward to any time you’re able to take time away to visit me.” With his words, and him not mentioning it when she asked about potential problems with a mate, Reyara was glad to know they were both unattached to someone currently. 


And then Reyara grinned saying “I will admit, it was very hard at first when she joined the Harper Haven Hall, her not being where I could see her every day. Not getting to see her as much as I wanted. So being able to visit her more often is going to be wonderful.” She then let out a small laugh saying “At least until she tells me to butt out and let her live her life because she gets tired of my visits to her here.” 


Then Reyara had a quick though, and asked in a non judgemental voice as she left her hand in his “Oh! Does Andreya have any half-siblings? Anyone at the Weyr? She pestered me for Turns when she was younger for a sibling to play with, but I never had any other children. Not that she’d be playing with any siblings now, of course.” In all the Turns they’d been apart, there was no possible way she could fault T’rif for his past relationships, and she didn’t at all, she was just curious about any other family her daughter might have here.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


T’rif sobered. “She does have siblings, but none in the Weyr,” he said simply, not wanting to get into the backstory of why not. “She’s got a slew of second cousins, a couple of whom that are Candidates along with her and who all have the red colored hair. They’re all pretty nice, so if she hasn’t met them yet, I’ll make sure they meet up and show her around. Actually, I think I had one of them show her around all ready.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


When her question clearly brought up something not very pleasant with T’rif, it saddened her as well. Giving his hand a small squeeze, Reyara didn’t ask anything else and instead said “I’m so sorry, T’rif.” It had been hard for her with Andreya just at the Weyr, she couldn’t imagine being father away from her daughter like it appeared T’rif was with his children. 


 As T’rif moved on to Andreya’s new second cousins, all red-headed like her daughter, Reyara shook her head amusingly saying “That’s what you meant about her hair. I understand now. I’m sure she will want to meet her second cousins.” Thinking back a moment, to the people Andreya had mentioned earlier...Reyara was able to pull forward a name and said “Andreya told me about the first girl who showed her around...I believe her name was Starie, Sharie...no, it was Shalia I believe. A girl with red hair like hers, Andreya said, and very nice.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


“Yes, Shalia,” T’rif said with a chuckle. “Though ironically, she’s not actually a blood relation. She’s Kassia’s mate’s daughter that was raised with Sarati, Kassia’s oldest daughter who is now a greenrider. Her next two daughters Kashara and Rassia are also Candidates, but Kashara broke her leg in the earthquake, so she missed the Hatching today unfortunately.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


Reyara smiled at the confirmation that she’d gotten the name right (despite it taking 3 tries) and listened trying to follow the connections T’rif was describing. Upon hearing one of the girls broke her leg, concern washed over her face and she asked “Is she, Kashara, doing ok? I know some breaks can be worse than others.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


“I believe I heard that she’ll likely recover to being able to Stand,” T’rif told her. He popped a piece of fruit in his mouth and savoured it before going on. “We won’t know for sure for a little while longer, but the healers were hopeful. She’s been working with the dragonhealers in the meantime, so she’s been keeping busy at least.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


As T’rif said the young girl would be fine, that the healers are hopeful, Reyara nodded thankfully and then took a sip of her juice again before replying with “That’s good, that the healers think she’ll be ok, and that she feels well enough to be busy.” 


Pausing a second, taking a breath as she fought back the memory of the worry she’d felt when Andreya had told her this, Reyara then mentioned “Andreya told me she was actually caught by the quake. She was trapped in a tunnel collapse. Thankfully she only had some bruises from falling rocks, but only because she was rescued by the dragon who Searched her, directing their rider to find Andreya where she was trapped.” 


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


“I’m glad she was okay,” T’rif said. “I guess it was sort of a good thing in a way for her though. Now she knows she can Stand.” He finished eating. “I hate to do this, but I have to get back to my Candidates. I’m still technically on duty. But I would love to get together again soon.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


Nodding to his first words, wholeheartedly agreeing with him about Andreya being ok, when he started with ‘I hate to’ Reyara braced herself against the disappointment she knew she’d feel at whatever he said next. Even as she wished it was his night off and they could continue talking (or more) all night long, she knew that tonight of all nights, after that Hatching, the Candidates would need him. 


Smiling warmly at him, and then a bit wider at his last words, Reyara gave his hand one last squeeze saying “Of course, I understand. Of course they would need you tonight in the Barracks. And yes, it would be absolutely wonderful to see you again, soon.” Pulling her hand reluctantly away, Reyara bit her lip a moment thinking before she said “So...Andreya already retired from the Feast tonight. She was a bit drained and saddened by this Hatching, I could see that even though she didn’t tell me. We had planned to meet in the morning before I would get taken back to the Hold. Now, though, I’ll have the news about you to tell her tomorrow.” Reyara wasn’t sure, right at this moment, if Andreya would be meeting her in the room the Weyr had set aside for Hatching guests (where she had a cot to sleep in, in a room with 3 other cots and guests), or if Reyara would be meeting her daughter somewhere else in the Weyr. 


Glancing up at him, she paused before asking “Do you want to be there, when I tell her?” This was new territory for Reyara, figuring out the best way to tell her nearly adult daughter who her father is and Reyara had no idea if it would be better to tell her daughter with T’rif there, or without. 


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


“I feel like you should tell her in a private moment,” he said. “Then she can decide what she wants to do and not feel like she’s on the spot. If she wants to come talk to me, I’ll be ready to talk to her. If she wants to pretend nothing has changed for some reason, I’m okay with that, too. Is that okay?” He finished his mug of juice.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


At his very reasonable suggestion, which was probably easier for him to think up than Reyara with that same lingering wine-fog still slightly clouding her thoughts, the tailor considered his words a moment. After a brief pause, Reyara nodded saying “That does sound like a better idea. And I’ll let her know, as well, that if she wants to pretend she doesn’t know...that you are okay with that. That it’s her choice. Although, I do feel that she’s not going to take things that route.” 


A slightly hopeful smile crossed the tailors lips as she added “And I don’t think I’m just being fanciful either, wanting to hope things work out. I really believe they will and that you will get to know Andreya as your daughter.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


“I hope I get that chance.” He pushed to his feet and held out his hand to help her up. “I am very pleased to have met you again, Reyara. You can always find me through the Candidate Barracks.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


As T’rif stood up, Reyara added her own heartfelt “As do I.” Smiling at him, having finished her own small plate of food and juice, Reyara placed her slender hand in his and let him help her up. Standing up gracefully in her beautiful purple dress, tossing her head a little to settle her blond hair down her back, she looked up at him replying with “It was indeed wonderful to meet you again, T’rif. And you can find me in the Tailor Crafthall in Arolos Hold. I look forward to getting to see you again, soon.” 


She considered a second and then asked “I know you need to go so I’m sorry, but are you so busy tomorrow midmorning that I should just send you a message instead of stopping by myself...to let you know how my talk with Andreya goes?”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“You can come find me then,” T’rif assured her with a smile. “Have a good evening, Reyara.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


“Looking forward to it.” Reyara said with a warm smile before she dipped her head respectfully saying “You as well, T’rif.” If there was one thing quite unexpected about this evening, at least it was that aside from finding Andreya’s father...that the meeting had most definitely taken Reyara’s mind off the keening dragons earlier. 


Browns Are Always Best ((Attn: K'sway, Calyse))

 

The Weyr was as busy and bustling a place as she had ever been, rarely did Calyse find herself entirely alone - even on days when she desired it. Late in the afternoon once chores and work had been completed for the day, she felt the need to stretch her legs. The air was hot and humid as it always seemed to be, sun hanging low in the sky above as the colors of sunset began to gather. Arolos was a beautiful place, Calyse had to admit, though it came with a bitter taste knowing this was where her brother had lived his last days. Not home in Benden where they both belonged, but here, surrounded by strangers. 

Her feet slowed near the lake, carrying her without aim while sad thoughts consumed her mind. Only when the water touched her toes with a startlingly cold splash did she realize where she'd gone, and stop before wandering further in. Calyse blinked from her reverie, focusing on the brown dragon standing aside the shore while his rider washed his chocolate hide. S'yon had Impressed a brown she had never been able to meet. The shame of it made her chest tight. He would have been such a spectacular brownrider, too. 

She found herself staring at the unfamiliar pair for several minutes before deciding to approach, unsure whether she wanted to disturb them at all. These were painful memories in her brain today.

"Good evening and clear skies," Calyse called so as to not startle them, rolling up the hideously yellow sleeves on her uniform. "Do you.. need an extra hand?" 


Re: Checking the Distance (attn: Borriga, Nevena)

Kouga
 

"And how much of that could've probably been prevented by our Weyrleaders?" Nevena questioned. "I've got nothing against protecting people against disasters, but disasters that leaders are kind of involved in causing... Apparently I got a bit of a problem with that."<<
"Honestly not sure, though I do get the feeling the rain of baby
dragons and eggs a couple of turns back could have somehow had
something to help it a bit, maybe just brought the eggs to someplace
not the wedding?" It was clear Borriga wasn't actually saying he was
sure that would have worked more just seemed like it was something
that could have been done. "But the question is why does it take
preventable things to make it a place harder to guard? Can things not
just get odd, crazy, or wrong enough for that to happen?" He had lived
south all his life but he had heard stories of Fort from before it
fell and knew that while there were preventable things there it had
all been normal until it wasn't. Had any of the guards there ever
thought it wasn't the place they wanted to guard? And he knew that
while it was all that was coming to mind that there had to be other
examples of things from other Weyrs or even the Holds and Halls.

*Kouga*

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"Remind me never to get out our bad side. It seems to be ...
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"Death By Apple Pie a lovely poem by our friend Cole" - Dorian


Re: A Candid Capture of Conversation (Tyne/Panagath)

Nutmeg
 

It was a constant flicker of emotion and images moving back and forth. Whilst it was obvious that the likes of the greens and blues used a far simpler construct, it took on a significant degree of depth as it shifted from brown, to bronze, to gold - it all moved at a rapid pace but there was defined precision and purpose to it all as they merrily converse with the blue. They were very pleased, Bobbin in particular, with the care that Panagath's was taking with their mistress, flickering the waves of calm that the man's presence seemed to induce when he was around. 

Tyne chattered on, not completely paying attention to her fair's conversations with Panagath as she directed his attention to a secondary diagram of the same weyr but with a sketch of large wooden doors on the front. She was getting better at being the "eye of the storm" after her talk with K'ren. "Oh... Panagath..." The exclamation was small but brimming with emotion as the fair relayed the images as well as the blue's concerns. "... Thank you..." She wanted to reach out but didn't know if she could go that far. Immediately it was picked up on, that tinge of uncertainty flickered to the blue. "Small amounts are okay. I... I would really like to be better with you. I... think a couple of allowed voices might... help. Not seem so... hurtful. I'm... getting better at seeing it's not the same, that it doesn't come from the same place and you don't want to cause harm or... or intentionally remind me that Myrandith isn't here." There it was again, that deep seated twinge of sorrow that made her chest ache. Although its intensity didn't provoke such a visceral reaction anymore, its rawness still sent a spear of sharp pain through her heart. 

"Ironically, a bit of heavy lifting is exactly where I think I could use your help the most..." When she spoke again, albeit after a moment's pause to compose herself, Tyne deliberately moved back to the point. She wasn't going to sit and dwell. That was the whole point of this. Not sitting and dwelling. But actually doing.

On Tue, Jun 16, 2020 at 12:59 AM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
Yes, the faire had told him. He answered their questions; even told them when he was a weyrling not much larger than them he used to splash in the puddles all the time. For a short while, R'zzon had been known as 'Mudface". And if they told Tyne, so what? She could surprise him with that someday.

It was easy, carrying on two conversations at once. Another draconic trait; possibly having to do with Threadfall and needing to keep the faire--and the Weyr--safe. He'd never spoken to this many of the MiniKin at one time, or for as long, and was surprised at what others were missing out on. They weren't unintelligent; just a different type of intelligence. And one could learn a lot from them. But now, Asymmetric Rider requested his attention.

He looked at the plans, and was fed more information as to its structure, size, location and more minute details that she didn't have. That wall would need shoring up, because one of the MiniKin browns had seen some hairline fractures in the wall. The ledge wasn't necessary; but he knew of a place that had nice large flat rocks that the Stonecrafters had tossed away because they weren't good enough for the Holds. But they could be easily fitted together, to make a nice cobbled path.

He fed the images to the MiniKin, knowing they would relay them back to Tyne, along with a query of 'what can I help with?' He didn't mind talking to her, but he didn't want to overwhelm her with dragonvoice, either.


On Mon, Jun 15, 2020 at 5:17 AM Nutmeg <nutmeg.witch@...> wrote:
Like moving hands, the firelizards had scuttled into action, crawling over Panagath's hide as they set to work. Even as they set to work there was quiet inquiry made, like peculiar draconic small-talk, all through probing emotions and flashes of images. Was Panagath well? They did hope so. They liked him. They had been enjoying this sunny weather, had he liked it too? That downpour the other day was very peculiar, wasn't it?! They had gone and played in the puddles outside, did he like playing in puddles? It was cheerful, almost mindless chatter - much in the way a Healer would randomly babble about small topics of conversation whilst getting on with their work.

With voices like Panagath's, she was getting better. Maybe because it was because there were so many ways it was similar to R'zzon's. It was also low and calm, not big and energetic. Whenever the blue had entered her mind, rather than letting herself succumb to the panic it tried to rouse, she had made herself focus instead on where it "felt" it was in her head. And when she didn't fall headlong into the pit, she had realised that the blue's voice didn't try to fill Myrandith's space, more that it seemed to occupy a different area altogether. And that had prompted... something to shift. Something of a realisation. That the dragon voices didn't stake claim on empty space that wasn't theirs to take, more that they shifted to a different space connecting to it. Like the firelizard bubbles. When she had tried to explain it to the Mindhealers, it had been easier to draw a picture. 

As the soft and rumbling voice entered her thoughts, there was no visible flinch. She was getting better at not flinching. Better at quietly holding back the instinctive flush of panic that tried to rear up. It took a moment to steady herself, but she was calm. Settling on a large rock, her legs crossing comfortably, there had even been a small smile for Panagath. "Because I know the fair tells you everything, I'm sure they've told you about the project I'm working on. I'm helping to make a space for them. For all of them, when they're hurt, when theirs need some help understanding them. All sorts. But it is a space they can go and won't upset anyone," The smile had taken on a touch of wryness as she glanced at Panagath's whirling eyes. "Because we all know how loud they get when they're scared. So I've found a space for them!" The scroll was unfurled on the stone and Bobbin helpfully provided several small stones to hold the corners down.

The scroll was a mass of diagrams but she pointed to the one that was a sketch of the front of the dilapidated weyr she had claimed, the wall collapsed and exposing the interior of the weyr, the ledge broken but wide enough to be rebuilt into a pathway as it connected to steps down into the Weyrbowl. "This place! It needs a lot of work though..."

On Mon, Jun 15, 2020 at 1:56 AM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
Panagath greeted Tyne's firelizards like old friends. To him, they were friends--not overly chatty, but helpful and calming after a day of drills or Threadfall with R'zzon. It did surprise him, though, when the Asymmetric Rider greeted him. He liked her too, mostly because R'zzon liked her. But he also felt a touch of protection towards her. She used to be whole, but now she wasn't. Her symmetry was gone, though the firelizards were bringing a little of that symmetry back. 

They had told him once that she thought the dragons hated her because she lost that part of herself. They didn't hate her, most just didn't understand how it could happen, that she was here but the rest of her wasn't. He knew that if he lost his R'zzon part, he would join that part *between*. But for some reason, when she lost her Myrandith part, she hadn't been allowed to go with her. Dragons didn't understand why she wasn't allowed to go. Now Myrandith had to wait for Tyne to come join her. So, meanwhile, he would protect Myrandith's to the best of his ability.

She surprised him by talking to him without R'zzon around, but he didn't mind. He sat in front of her attentively and cocked his head after pointing out some spots on his back by his wingjoints that were itching him. {{I'm listening,}} he said, though he didn't want to scare her by talking to her too much. 



On Sun, Jun 14, 2020 at 1:04 PM Nutmeg <nutmeg.witch@...> wrote:

IC Date Reference: Set a few days post-Gather. IC date approximately 8.28.6.6.


She had met the Harper at the Gather, spending almost a full candlemark talking to him when she realised that she missed the Northern twang a lot more than she had realised and to her delight, hadn’t forgotten how to interpret the soft and lilting words. Tyne hadn’t been surprised that he had vaguely recognised her but deeply delighted that he hadn’t immediately turned into the nervous wreck that most people seemed to find themselves in when they realised they were talking to “that dragonless woman who used to be a Goldrider, but  now she isn’t and oh Faranth how do I address her?”


Initially it had started as a request for one of the candid sketches he was offering to do but after talking a while, Tyne had realised that it had the potential to be turned into something even better. She didn’t like the formally, painfully posed for portraits that she had done more than her share of at High Reaches, much preferring the more natural capture of someone who didn’t even seem aware that they were being watched. With much laughter and discussion, she had arranged that Harper Fenlyn would spend a day or so following her, capturing assorted sketches with the plan to turn one into a portrait. She already knew who it would be for.


And that was how she had spent the day with the man, always at a discreet distance as he followed her. He had been right, she would forget that he was there and after the initial awkward couple of candlemarks, she had continued about her day as though nothing was going on. Her win on both the runners and at the Harper Open had given her the marks to approach the Woodcrafters in the Weyr and had been enjoying a meandering stroll about the Lake when she had spotted a familiar bundle of deep blue hide. She had been getting far more comfortable about Panagath, desperately wanting to reach some level of acceptance by him and so, in a bid to make herself more confident in her dealing with him, had started on the idea of not treating the blue like a dragon, but rather, like another person. Talking to him like a person, even down the small talk such as asking how the weather was. 


The firelizards that had followed her in a small cloud had immediately swarmed to the blue, chattering in delighted greeting as they settled about him, many of them asking if they could help with any scratching he might need, or even any bathing if he so wished. And Tyne had followed, the large scroll tucked under her arm as she carefully approached him. “Might I bother you for an opinion, Panagath? I’ve got something I’d like to show you. I think I might need a little help, too.”



--
Nutmeg on the Wizzy.
Recluso#6042 on Discord

I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!



--
Nutmeg on the Wizzy.
Recluso#6042 on Discord

I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!



--
Nutmeg on the Wizzy.
Recluso#6042 on Discord

I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!


GATHER: We'll tell everyone it's paint. JP. (Fenlyn/Silfrid)

Nutmeg
 

IC Date Reference: Set 2nd day of thhe Gather. IC date period 8.28.6.2


It had been so long since he had had a stall at any Gather that he had almost forgotten how it was done. But the reality was, his quarters were in desperate need of a clear out and after the past few Turns of considerable travelling, Fenlyn had acquired quite the collection of assorted works. Some had been of his own planning, others were commissions that were never collected or minds changed and others had just been there too long. It was a little like keeping skeletons in your closet.


Whilst normally he charged a pretty mark for his work, this Turn, as a means to try and get his name back out as a Harper Artist for hire, plus to try and coax a few more sales than he might normally see, Fenlyn had hung a large sign at the rear of his little stall and had the same written up on a board just in front of it.


Art Clearance.

This Gather only.

Prices negotiable.

Commissions welcome.


Whilst his prices hadn’t been absurdly cheap, they had been cheap enough to garner significant interest in the wide range of works he had, from pocket sized portraits to landscapes big enough to put on your wall and imagine you were standing in front of it for real. For anyone with a discerning eye, they would note a progressional change of and experimentation in styles. From the extremely technical and realistic to the more abstract. There was likely something to appeal to just about anyone. He was long overdue a fresh start from an artistic perspective and the fact was, his studio was starting to feel more than a little cramped with so many canvases in it.


As well as his main pieces, he had another smaller board set up offering Gather sketches completed in half a candlemark for half a mark. This one was particularly popular with lovers and families wanting to gain a memento and at the end of it, earned themselves a damned good sketch carefully presented on a decent quality hide that wouldn’t fall apart but could be framed at a later date if they wanted. He had a pair in front of him at the moment as he sat to the side of the stall, the couple giggling with each other and barely able to keep their hands to themselves. These were his favourite to do, candid caught in the moment sketches that gave them a split second in time to hold onto. 


After spending the entire day setting up and organizing the Harper Open and the subsequent Gather Dance, Silfrid was starting to feel like her head just might explode from the anxiety that all of it was giving her.  She had excused herself, promising to be back in an hour… she needed air, food, and beer. 

The first two hadn’t been hard to find at all, but feck, was it impossible to find a good tankard of beer in the South?  She distinctly remembered the first time she’d tried it up north, after she’d transferred as an apprentice.  Shards, she missed the cooler temperatures and the fizz on his lips as she sipped and did her work.  All they had here was sweet wine, which wasn’t bad but… and not to mention the licors.  If she wanted to drink herself silly she would never have become a Harper.  A Harper should *always* be able to keep her head on her shoulders!  Especially considering how handsy some of the Older generation of harpers, the one unaccustomed to a heavy female presence, could be.

She was wandering around, lightly pouting as she ate a spicy tri-tip sandwich, unable to find a good stout to accompany it.  A stand full of art caught her eye and she stopped to peruse, making sure to keep a safe distance from the paintings.  She paused in front of the portrait of a woman with her hair tied back, “Pretty,” she said to herself as her eyes drifted over to the portrait of the sun set over the water.  


“Amazing,” she really liked this one.  She looked around, seeing if she’d catch sight of the painter.


As he finished his sketch of the giggling couple and took their money before they became too engrossed to remember that he was meant to be paid and handed over their neatly rolled scroll to the girl who, by the looks of things, had possibly already had a little too much to drink. It didn’t stop her kissing him noisily on the cheek before being swept up by her companion and the pair disappeared into the crowd amidst the sound of their own laughter.


Shaking his head a little at the pair, rolling his eyes in amusement, Fenlyn had worked quickly to tidy up the easel, readying it for the next potential customer with a fresh sheet of parchment in place. He hadn’t noticed the woman standing at his stall as he spun from the stool into a stand, colliding with her with a loud “ooph” of exhaled air.


“Michty me!” he exclaimed as his body thudded suddenly into her own, his own momentum causing him to stumble forward a step.


Silfrid’s squeal of surprise was, thankfully, muffled by the food in her mouth.  She’d turned back to the painting and was so engrossed in the detail that she’d forgotten that the painter was there (she’d decided not to bother him before, when she caught sight of him, since he seemed busy) and had been easily knocked over--there was a huge difference in bulk after all.  


Landing on her butt, she accidentally let go of her sandwich, which went flying straight up into the air, only to be dragged back down by reality landing right on top of Fenlyn’s head. 


In slow motion, like time was sliding through treacle at a painfully slow pace, Fenlyn watched two things happen. The first was that the woman fell heavily backwards and then, in comedic effect, the sandwich had flown from her hand as though pulled by invisible strings. Had he taken a different course of action, no doubt the outcome might have been wholly different. But as it was, lunging forward much too late to stop the woman from falling, he put himself right in the path of the sandwich’s descent. Except it missed the ground - well, at first, bouncing off his head in an explosion meat, salad and a thick and gooey sauce that decided the first place it was going to go was right down the back of his neck. 


And then time suddenly sped back up, moving at normal pace as he reached down a hand as slices of meat fell down the side of his face and the bread took a leap to its intended destination, the floor. “Let me git ye oot o’ th’dirt there, lass. Ye dinnae want tae be gettin’ thae bonnie dress in a state.” His voice was a soft rumble of sound with a distinct and definitive inflection that made it lilt and bounce as Fenlyn reached out a hand for Silfrid to grab a hold of.


Silfrid’s eyes opened wide as she watched in horror as bread, meat, sauce and salad exploded atop the man’ beautiful hair.  And then, to top it off, he was gentleman enough to help her up?  She felt terrible, but allowed him to help her anyways as she gave him a meek and apologetic look, incapable of hiding the red in her cheeks, “I am SO SORRY!” she said to him, reaching over to pick pieces of the salad from his hair.  Admittedly she was surprised by his accent, but was a good enough harper to at least follow what he was saying.  It wasn’t the first time she’d heard it, having been all over the Northern Continent.  “Don’t worry about my dress!  I can always just change or get a new one… but your hair!  Oh, I’m so sorry, I really am!


"Ach, dinnae fash. It's nothin' a wee bittie water cannae wash clean. An' I keep a new shirt in ma bag for th'paintin' ye ken." Even as he spoke in those unusual tones, he was making sure that Silfrid was up on her feet and had come to no serious harm. He wasn't exactly a featherweight to have slammed into you. He gestured that she step to the side of the stall, eyes picking up on the Harper knots. It didn't surprise him that he didn't recognise her. He had been away that long that he didn't really recognise anyone at the Haven anymore.


He moved to the rear of the stall, pulling out a small satchel where, sure enough, he produced a clean shirt and waterskin. "I didnae hurt ye, did I? It must've felt like ye were bein' slammed intae by a wher." As he spoke, he pulled the dirty shirt over his head, using the clean parts to wipe away the worst of the sauce and flicked away the bits of salad that clung stubbornly to his mop of curly black hair.


“By a big wher,” she said, with a grin, doing her best to follow.  There was a musical quality to it, she told herself, and though she didn’t catch every single word she used context to figure them out; “ken” proved to be tricky but after a moment she realized it was something akin to “know.”  Honestly, she was just so relieved that she had not offended him, most people’s Gather would have been ruined at that point.  


Her eyes lingered on the man as he pulled off his shirt and put on a new one.  Recovering from a momentary lapse of speechlessness she said, “Oh!  You’re a harper, as well?”  Focus on what’s easy and then bring your feet back down to Pern, she told herself.  So work; work was easy.  “I guess that makes sense; most of the painters I know are harper trained, though I don’t think I’ve seen you at the Haven before.”  She looked up his head as he washed it.  Shards, she was so embarrassed.  “Really, I’m so sorry about what happened… is there any way I could make it up to you?”


For several minutes, he didn’t speak as he cleaned himself up, using the water skin to rinse through his hair and down the back of his neck. The soiled shirt - or rather, the clean parts of it, made for a good towel. The water made his curls sparkle in the sun and when damp, ironically looked a bit tidier as he ran his fingers through and swept them from his eyes. But soon enough, normality had been restored and he stepped out from behind the booth in a fresh shirt in soft grey linen and his damp hair brushed back from his fingers. He could achieve the same look with a little oil but he was far too busy most of the time to consider such vanities.


There was a broad smile on his face and a twinkle in his bright blue eyes as he stepped towards Silfrid, a hand extended in greeting. “Well, Ah’ve been oot o’ th’Weyr f’some time. Been travellin’ aboot most o’ th’North for a guid few Turns. Truth is, Ah’ve no’ long been back in’t Haven. Th’name’s Journeyman Fenlyn. Ah’ve been slackin’ on gettin’  mah Senior knots by no’ stayin’ in a place long enough tae be finishin’ any project.” Fenlyn’s whole demeanour was one of soft cheerfulness, ironic given his stature. “How aboot we tak’ a walk an’ find ye a new bittie o’ food tae replace th’sandwich thae fell tae its doom?”


Silfrid smiled, “I see a lot of finished projects around us, Journeyman Fenlyn.  I’m Senior Journeyman Silfrid--I’ve only just arrived at the Haven myself.  I was bouncing around the Northern Continent for the past few years but the Masters still decided to promote me.”  She preferred not to bring up that the reason was for being exceptionally good at counting numbers--it was the boring side of being a Harper after all.  


She had to admit that the man’s demeanor put her at ease.  Was he really like this?  Or was it harper training taking over?  No, it had to be first option she decided--it was too genuine.  Smile growing at his offer she nodded, “Only if you let me buy you one as well,” she said.  “As payment for ruining your other shirt.”  She looked around herself, “Are you sure you can leave your stall unattended?  I could come back later…”


The grin widened a touch and after pulling a few discreet cords, heavy leather sheets fell down around the stall, the same that went up on the stalls at night, effectively announcing it was temporarily unavailable and at the same time, providing a degree of protection. There were enough Guards in the crowd that anyone seen messing with the sheets would quickly be accosted. Plus, there was always the unwritten rule amongst Traders, that they would look out for your stall if you did the same for theirs. A small board appeared with “Back In One Candlemark” written across it and was hung on the front.


“Ye’ve no’ done many stalls yesel’ I see,” And it came across more as a gentle tease than accusation as he waved to the Trader next door who immediately responded with a smile and thumb’s up gesture. “We all tend tae keep an eye oot f’each other so thae we can take a wee break noo an’ then. Sae long as ye don’ take th’wherry wi’ it.” It amused him to see that she was so mortified over his shirt, most people would toss you a coin and tell you to get it cleaned. But her genuine concern was touching to see. “Ah ken where there’s a braw stand just doon th’way. He’s a Trader from just oot o’ Bitra. Cooks up meat an’ serves it up in a flatbread. How does tha’ tak’ yer fancy?”


“That sounds really good!  Especially if there is beer involved!” she answered, moving past the fact that of course there was a way to close down a stall, even if it was temporary, so the stall owner could take a break.  Of course, she knew that, she thought, berating herself.  She was supposed to, after all, and felt like a bit of a fool for having forgotten such a logical thing.  Maybe she was still recovering from getting knocked back by a handsome man with bricks for muscles and the most perfect curls she’d ever seen.  Yeah, that had to be it.  “Lead the way, Fenlyn!”


With a flourished bow, Fenlyn had presented his arm for her to take and whether she did or not, well, he didn’t mind. It was thoroughly fortuitous that he had happened across someone that he might see around more often and having spent so long away, that was a pleasant thought in itself. She would quickly see that despite not being overly tall, people seemed to just… move out of the way. Despite his gentle demeanour and twinkling eyes, something about a walking wall of muscle seemed to tell something in peoples’ heads that maybe they would be better off not getting in the way.


“If ye’re lookin’ f’a wee dram then Artun is th’ man ye want tae see. He’s in cahoots wi’ another Trader from th’ Northern provinces. Artun sends him meat an’ his guy sends him a few kegs o’ beer for th’Gathers. Ye’d be surprised tae see how grand a cold brew goes wi’ his flatbreads.” And now the mention of food was in his mind, Fenlyn realised just how long it had been that day since he had had something to eat. He had had breakfast… but that was practically a day away already. No wonder his stomach was starting to growl.


Accepting the man’s arm, Silfrid allowed him to guide her down the path.  She did notice how people seemed to give the painter space and could tell why; he seemed to be about to come out of his shirt, and could probably pass off as what healers liked to call a perfect male specimen.  Well, Silfrid had grown up around handsome men--she refused to be phased, and if she was, she blamed it on the brickwall that had knocked her over.

“From what I know it’s really hard to get any beer down here, especially *good* beer,” she mentioned.  “Something about the tropical heat keeps it from fermenting as it should.  A cold one sounds amazing right now but I honestly don’t have high hopes, no matter how much you promise--I don’t want to get excited just in case!”  She laughed, “I mean… So far I’ve been disappointed, hopefully you can break that streak. How long have you known Artun?”


Completely unaware of her speculations on himself, perhaps it would have amused her further to know such things would have made Fenlyn blush deeply into his hair. He was well aware of his strength and size but sometimes his cheerful and quiet demeanour seemed misplaced - like  it should have been put into a much smaller body. Though his posture was good and head held high, Fenlyn didn’t have an attitude that screamed “alpha male, get out of my way” but there was a quiet assertiveness to it instead as he led them through a Gather crowd that just as quietly, submissively moved to one side to let them through.


“Ach, if Ah’m no’ right ye can tell me off in front o’ th’ entire Gather!” he quipped, a rich and musical chuckle escaping him as he paused a moment to let a family hurry their bevy of children past them. The father, looking rather frazzled and exasperated shouted a relieved thanks over his shoulder as he went by. “An’ ye’re right. Apparently th’ heat an’ humidity causes issues wi’ the process. It’s why th’ Northern provinces can charge a pretty wee mark tae indulge us. Ah’ve ken’t Artun f’goin’ on… shells, must be gettin’ on f’ten turns or more. We kept bumpin’ in’tae each other when I was movin’ aroond th’ Holds tryin’ tae convince fancy Lord Holders tae let me paint them an’ their progeny.”


“You should’ve asked the Lady Holders, they would’ve most likely have helped you convince the Lords,” Silfrid suggested with a smirk.  “Fifteen turns is a long time, though. I’m surprised you and I haven’t run into each other before,” she remarked, noticing how people were giving them space.  “Were you that famous painter all the apprentice girls were crazy about at the Igen Turns End gather last turn?”


That brought a laugh from him, “Aye well, Ah was no’ exactly th’tidiest lookin’ back then. They probably dinnae want me anywhere near their wives.” The stalls they passed were colourful, the Traders calling out their greetings as they tried to entice people to look at their wares. “Igen? Aye, Ah was there, but I didnae think Ah caught anyone’s eye. But then, Ah wasn’t really payin’ much attention to gigglin’ lassies.” The notion that he might have somehow been the source of consternation seemed to baffle him, as though he couldn’t fathom why that might have been the case.


“Mm, maybe it was a different handsome painter,” she teased, her eyes drifting momentarily to the wares they passed by.  One thing she did enjoy about Gathers in the South was that they were so much more vibrant.  They were up North as well, but there it was about banners and Holds and crafts whereas here it was mostly because they liked it,  Why knit a brown sheet when it could be red or orange or blue?  “I’m glad to have met another Pern-rover like myself, though,” she continued, returning her attention to him.  “Do you plan to stay long?”


“Ach, ye’re terrible lass,” Fenlyn quipped but it was clear that he had taken no offence and actually, seemed rather flattered that he was being referred to as “handsome”. She wasn’t the only one who enjoyed the Southern Gathers, with the more acclimate weather, the stalls could be more daring and attractive and much less of a need to be practical. “Ah’m hopin’ thae Ah can lay some roots again. Been travellin’ a wee bit tae long and Ah’m gettin’ tired of all th’ snow an’ rain.” 


“Tired of the snow?  I thought High Reachers were quite proud of their snow,” she laughed, maybe she was terrible, but she enjoyed his company, so far, and liked his voice, accent and all.  The idea of laying down roots was strange to her--she always assumed she would, just not here at Arolos… but the truth was, that after the first week or so, everything had stayed the same.  Kassia and Ilanna had grown in their own way and Silfrid was practically a stranger to both of them, so that strange being insecure about her own family had, in the end, barely affected her transition.  Maybe Arolos wouldn’t be a bad place to lay down roots.  According to their archives it was clear they needed someone good with numbers.  “I used to live down here.  I’ve been thinking about whether I should stay, this time, at least until I figure out my Mastery.”


“Oh, ye cannae beat th’ snow in High Reaches,” he had grinned at her, his smile wide and slightly lop-sided. “Comin’ in after a long days work an’ wrappin’ yesel’ up in front o’ th’ fire wi’ a pipin’ hot dram an’ a fur aboot ye feet. But there’s no’ as much call for an Artist when ye have tae save marks f’next Turn’s food supplies. Ah’ve always garnered much more profit doon in th’South.” They had made their way towards a stall from which the scent of cooking meat drifted enticingly on the air and Fenlyn had lifted his hand in greeting to the small, wiry looking man behind the counter who was deeply tanned. 


“Pipin’ hot dram?  She asked, raising both her brows.  Finally a word she was unable to work out.  “The furs part, though, doesn’t sound bad at all.”  What he said about a painter having a harder time living up north was true, she admitted.  The culture was different, and the further north you went the more it became about surviving the winter than unnecessary expenses like painting.  When they stopped she examined the stall.  “Is this the place?  Artun’s?”


Sometimes he forgot just how thick his accent still could be. Growing up around similar voices and spending so much time in the North over the past decade hadn’t done anything to lighten it either. For a second he looked at her with confusion, as if not following why she hadn’t understood. Then he had chuckled, a sound of hearty amusement. “Drink. Although wi’ a wee drop o’ brandy it makes it all th’ better.” She received a wink, eyes twinkling with mischief as he nodded to her second question. “Aye, this is th’place. Dinnae let Artun fool ye, he kens exactly what he’s doin’. He likes tae play th’ignnorant.”


“Oy, Fenlyn! You eatin’ or what?!” The voice that sailed over the crowd clearly had Turns of calling over busy crowds behind it and the man was waving wildly, a huge grin on his face as he gestured the pair to come closer. “I’ve got sticks ready to come off the spit if you are!”



“Ah thank ye for th’ translation,” she answered with a playful look in her eye, knowing that her imitation had been quite terrible.  Still, Silfrid was enjoying herself and hoped he was too.  At the very least she could show him a good time for ruining his shirt earlier.  “This place smells amazing.  Go ahead and order, Felyn, but remember I’m paying.  And I want some beer, too!”


Not wholly undeservedly, she earned herself a guffaw at her impersonation. “Careful wi’ thae accent,” he had called over his shoulder as he stepped up to the stand. “Ye’ll insult someone’s mam if ye’re no’ careful!” But it was all in jest, all a light hearted tease and it was clear he was enjoying himself, enjoying the company. “Ye find us some braw seats an’ Ah’ll see what Ah can convince Artun tae part wi’!” 


From where she was, Silfrid would see that the exchange between Artun and Fenlyn was animated and friendly, the men engaged in the loud and cheerful conversation of men with the occasional slap to the shoulder. Artun would disappear into the back of his stall and eventually Fenlyn would return with two small platters in one hand and two tankards of foamy beer, the foam sliding down the side. As he set them down, the condensation would show - however he did it. Artun managed to keep his beer cold. 


The platter Silfrid was presented with was a slim flatbread, except it had been split and packed generously with a mix of spiced cooked meats, smothered in a herbal dressing and a generous pile of salad and fried tubers on the side. It was the epitome of Gather food, gluttonous, flavourful and indulgent. “Gie thae a go an’ tell me thae’s no’ the best thing since sliced wherry,” Fenlyn said with a grin, pushing the tankard towards her.


Silfrid laughed and did as the man asked, and found some good seats not too far from the food stand. Watching the harper barter with Artun, Silfrid put an elbow on the table and rested her head in the palm of her hand, an amused smile decorating her lips.  It was impossible to deny that Fenlyn fit the handsome and worldly artist trope that young girl’s fantasized about, even his High Reacher accent added to that image.  If she didn’t have so much to do… she might pursue him, but the truth was that with the Harper Open opening tomorrow, she would have to conform herself to just enjoying this simple meal.  Plus, he was going to be staying at the Harper Haven, so she’d have plenty of opportunity later to meet him again, if she so pleased.


“Mmm!  That smells amazing,” she had to admit when Fenlyn returned and set her plate in front of her.  “Since sliced wherry?  That is some serious competition.  I want to try it, but why don’t you show me how… is that beer?  Faranth feck me!”  She took the tankard and inhaled, enjoying the hoppy fragrance before taking a deep drink from it.  “Mmm… so good!” 


Fenlyn was amusingly oblivious to Silfrid’s consideration of himself. But then again, she could probably be dancing naked on the table whilst begging him to bed her and he still wouldn’t get the message right away. Not that he was obtuse, per se, more that he just… didn’t always get the cues. Not these days, anyway. Watching her with a grin as she took, grinning still further at her profanity, he had enjoyed a few bites of his own, carefully packing a couple of the fried tubers into the flatbread before sinking his teeth in.


“Ah telt ye, it’s damned good stuff thae he brings. Th’ meat an’ th’ ale. He’s go’ a massive box he keeps laden wi’ ice packed aroond th’ kegs.” Thick sauce dribbled down his chin and he caught it with a thumb, sucking it clean loudly.


“I’ll have to remember this place,”  she said, watching the man eat, much too enamoured of her beer to want to actually try the food just yet.  It had been over a month since her last tankard, and it hadn’t even been good--it was the low grade swill that was tithed to the Harper Hall.  “I may have to offer myself in marriage to Artun if he always has cold beer.”  She smirked, eyeing Fenlyn, wondering what his reaction would be.  “A man needs to be able to provide beer for his woman, at least that’s my philosophy.”

Finally she decided to start with the food.  She tried to imitate him, packing fried tubers and meat and sauce into a piece of flatbread before carefully bringing it up to her lips and taking a healthy bite from it.  “Mmm!  This is really good too!  What is it called?  What Hold is this from?”


“Ah think his bonny wife Rausalee might hae somethin’ tae say tae ye if ye tried anythin’ - she’ll be oot th’ back o’ the stand. Who dae ye think is in charge o’ preppin’?” Silfrid earned herself a playful wink for her banter and shells, it was enjoyable. Just being human. He enjoyed another bite and swilled it back with a mouthful of beer before he spoke again.


“Artun calls ‘em packed-breads, Ah think it’s somethin’ o’ his own devisin’ based on somethin’ he tried oot at Igen some turns back. People seem tae like it ‘cos ye can use yer hands an’ nowt else. Always handy f’a Gather!”


“They’re really good,” she said after a second bite.  “I think I would’ve guessed Igen or Ista, but usually Igen food is a lot spicier.”  She liked food, and liked linking food to cultures.  “These remind me of the spicy half-rolls they sell at Igen sometimes.  I think they have a half-roll stand over in the Black Wagons area.  Have you ever tried them?  If you like spicy food I really recommend them.” 


“Would ye think any less o’ me if Ah told ye’ I cannae handle tae much. Artun is aboot all Ah can handle!” He wasn’t entirely sure that he should be adding that however he would be taking a walk over to the Wagons. It normally gave entirely the wrong impression. Although… it was the Black Wagons. He just happened to have a couple of very good clients there who he could guarantee would be willing to take on a few of the pieces in Fenlyn’s “private” collection and for a damned good amount of marks as well.


Silfrid laughed, “Ehh… I’ll try not to.  But really, most High Reachers aren’t big fans of spice, or so I’ve learned.  I got used to it because I lived at Arolos for a few turns before I decided to become a full time Harper.”  She shrugged and took another gulp of her beer. 

It was then, out of the corner of her eye, that she caught a flash of blue and in an act of pure reflex she ducked down under the table.  What was she doing?  She wasn’t an apprentice!  Still, she wasn’t ready to go back to the monotony of ribbons and whatever other decorating they wanted her to pick and approve of.  It was a Gather!  She was allowed to have *some* fun! 

“Shhh, you never saw me,” she whispered from under the table to the artist.  


At first he had wondered what in the world was happening, then mischief had replaced the look of surprise, touched with a hint of lasciviousness. “Ach, ye can stay doon there all ye like lass.” he had grinned, leaning back a little to inspect the view. “There’s plenty o’ things ye can git up tae under a table ye ken.”


Silfrid hadn’t really thought about that, but now that it was on her mind… she turned bright pink.  Shards!  She tried to stifle some nervous laughter and smacked his leg, “Your mind is dirtier than the underside of this table!”  she half whispered from below.

A large harper stopped next to the table, and identifying the man’s knots he decided to press him, “Journeyman,” he said, tilting his body a little bit to reveal his own knots, identifying him as a Senior Journeyman.  “I am looking for Sr Journeywoman Silfrid; she was last seen heading this way… her hair is blondish-red.  It is very important that I find her.”


“Psh, it’s no’ mah fault. Whit’s a man tae think when a bonny lassie takes a dive under his table when he’s mindin’ his own business an’ eatin’ some good Gather food?” He had looked up with a smile as innocent as a newborn babe when the other Harper had approached them.


“Silfrid? Aye, Ah saw her goin’ thae way,” he pointed down the aisles of stalls. “Said summat aboot gettin’ back tae the main stage for th’ Harper Open plannin’. If ye run ye should catch her. Was only a few minutes ago ye ken.”


That was enough for the harper, who went off in teh direction that Fenlyn had pointed after a quick thank you.  Once the coast was clear, Silfrid popped her head from under the table and slowly arose and sat down, though this time it was in the seat directly next to Fenlyn, which was close enough that her leg would be pressed against his.  She seemed either not to notice or think it was a big deal so she just reached over to her food and placed it in front of her, along with her beloved tankard. 

“Thank ye, good sir, now it seems that I am doubly in your debt,”  Silfrid gave him a rather friendly smile.  “He is right though,” she added with a sigh.  “I should get back soon.  I don’t mind organizing, in fact I know I’m good at it, but some of the things seem so… menial.”  Shrugging, she took another bite, smaller than the rest, as if by eating her food slower she’d be able to escape the anguish of returning.  “This is probably why you haven’t applied for Senior knots, hm?  The freedom.”


Her closeness prickled his senses and for an instinctive second Fenlyn almost made a point of moving his leg away. Almost. She wasn’t acting as though it were significant or even contrived. Plus the Gather was noisy. And her new angle meant she could keep an eye out for more Harpers trying to track her down. So therefore entirely practical. Heart rate down, lad. 


He had shaken his head at her question, speaking in between a handful of salad greens he was currently picking his way through. “Naw, nothin’ like that. Ah’ve done sae much travellin’ the past turns thae Ah’ve no’ finished mah project f’presentin’ at the Hall. Ah was never in a place long enough tae commit tae a Hall be it North or South. Plus Ah spent a good chunk o’ thae time havin’ a think on where a Harper Artist is best suited. Sae Ah was usin’ the time to work on additional technique, make a wee nest egg to keep me goin’ an’ figure myself oot. But wanderin’ from place tae place an’ nowhere tae call home gets depressin’ after a while.”


“I never found it depressing,” she answered after a moment.  “I mean, it was hard meeting new people constantly, but I think that the way I was moving and you were moving was different.  I would spend a turn or two at the post and then move on, so I suppose it wasn’t constant movement.”  She set herself up another bite but before popping it into her mouth she added, “I suppose I always imagined that I would settle down at some point, get my Mastery and then settle down for good.  I never imagined it being here in the South… so who knows, I may move on again at some point.  I’ll enjoy your company in the meanwhile, if you don’t mind.”  She gave him a playful wink and popped the food into her mouth.


“Aye, Ah was only really anywhere f’as long as an Artist was needed. An’ trust me, sometimes it really wisnae all thae long before Ah was movin’ on again - mebbe a matter of sevendays.” There was nothing resentful in the way he said it, more that it had simply been what it was. Her company was light and enjoyable. No expectations, no seriousness. Just friendly and pleasant. His food was disappearing a lot quicker than he had anticipated - clearly he had been a lot hungrier than he had realised!


“Ah promise tae be on mah verrae best behaviour wi’ ye,” he had grinned, blue eyes sparkling merrily. “Although Ah may hae tae get in th’ habit o’ no’ wearin’ anythin’ Ah’m tae precious aboot. A man can only afford sae many shirts, ye ken.”


Even though she burst out laughing she still smacked him on the arm, “Hey!  That was an accident!  YE KEN!”  She wiggled her eyebrows a bit, doing her best to return the teasing but she burst into a grin too soon, unable to keep a straight face.  “And you better be on your best behaviour.  I’ve picked up a few tricks a long the way, I’ve learned to punish wayward harpers.”  This time she managed to pull off the wink, meeting the man’s eyes and holding his gaze for a few seconds before she did.  “So be careful… laddie… man.”


“Psh, or what? Ye’ll put me over yer knee an’ gie me a good spankin’? I’ll run an’ tell me mammy on ye!” There had been an explosive guffaw of laughter from the man at her silliness and he had found it was easy to reciprocate in kind. Shells, had he really been that long without proper socialisation that he clung to the slightest bit like water in a desert? It certainly felt like it. Yes, maybe it was high time that he actually stopped somewhere for a while and remembered what it was like to be around people properly.


“And I’ll tell your mummy exactly what you did to deserve it!”  Silfrid laughed and leaned closer.  “I’ll tell her you enjoyed it a little too much, too!”  Feeling as if she, for once, had the upper hand, Silfrid bounced out of her seat and grabbed her tankard of beer which was still half full, “To long travels and long stays, and Artuns and Beer!”


“Och, ye’re a terrible wench!” Fenlyn proclaimed in mirth, shaking his fist in dramatic outrage at her, “Ah’ll spread th’ word an’ no’ a drop o’ beer shall get served tae ye in the whole o’ th’ South!” He huffed and tossed his head as though highly offended, slyly watching her from the corner of his eyes, eyes that gave away his mischievous humour completely as he lifted his tankard in return.


“Tae canny masses an’ bonny lasses.” He chimed back in return, parroting an old toast he had heard many moons ago.


“I like that one!  To canny masses and bonny lasses!”  she struck her tankard to his and drained her beer.  “That was a good beer, I’ll have to come back tonight for another!  And don’t you dare spread that rumor or… or I’ll tell the weyrbrats that the way to get a free portrait is to bug you one hundred days in a row so hah!”  She gave him a “there you go!’ look, as if matter of factly as she could muster as she set it down with a heavy sigh.

“I guess that’s that,” she frowned.  “Time to head back.”


The tankards clinked and Fenlyn quickly downed his own beer. Like her, he was highly aware that he wasn’t really there for fun and that there was somewhere he was meant to be. Ah, the joys of adult responsibilities. It didn’t take them long to finish up their meals and reluctantly, he had gotten to his feet. If he had had the chance, maybe he would have been quite content to while away even more time. Especially if Silfrid had been willing to offer a little more company.


Companionably, they had walked back together, their laughter and teasing rife as they navigated the busy swells of the Gather crowd. It wasn’t until they arrived at Fenlyn’s stall did they finally part ways, but only after Silfrid had helped lift the heavy leather covers back up. There had been even more laughter and a little more teasing, each bidding the other an enjoyable Gather as Silfrid went on her way and assuring each other  that back at the Haven, they were sure to see each other again soon.


= End =



--
Nutmeg on the Wizzy.
Recluso#6042 on Discord

I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!


[ Gather Dance ] JP: I hope you dance [ T'rif / Silfrid ]

Rogue Kakashi
 

As soon as Kassia announced the start of the dance, T’rif went out to the dance floor. He’d been only there a minute or two when he recognized a familiar face off to the side. Wanting to catch up with his niece, he headed over.


“Care to dance and catch up?” T’rif asked.


Silfrid was still wearing the sky blue dress she’d born at the Harper Open, so pretty easy to spot.  When she set eyes upon her uncle she smiled, “Uncle T’rif, of course.  It’s been so long.”  She stood from the chair she’d stolen from some table somewhere and offered her hand to the man, “I’m pleased to see you.”


T’rif took her hand. “I’d heard you were in the Weyr, but haven’t had time to look you up. It’s good to see you again. How has life been?” So many family members that had come out of the woodwork lately.


“Well, busy, I’ll admit,”  Silfrid let herself be led by the older man, adapting quickly to the tune of the dance.  “Between the move South and trying to get the books organized and the Harper Open…”  A smirk grew on her face.  “I know, I know… you think I probably should’ve remained in candidacy?  I like numbers, I’ll have you know, uncle-sir.”


“No, I’ve only ever wanted you to be happy,” T’rif said. “If being a Harper makes you happy, then I’m happy for you. Plenty of riders to go around, but the people who like dealing with numbers is tiny. And I know Kassia and the Harpers must appreciate your help.”


“I hope so,” she answered.  “I’m glad you think I made a good choice.  Most people look at me like I’m crazy, I feel.”  There was a certain relief in her voice, her apology was genuine.  When one’s twin and half sister were dragonriders, and one was a goldrider… well, it was simple math, or so people thought.


“Don’t worry about other people,” T’rif said as they continued around the dance floor. “Do what makes you happy. You have an important job and one I’d fail miserably at, like so many other people. What else makes you happy in your life? Any partners?”


Silfrid shook her head, “No partners, the Hall is my life,” she laughed a little.  “I am happy though.  I’ve got to see a lot of places.  What about you, uncle?  Have you found a lucky lady?  Maybe some new children you’ve never heard of before?”


T’rif snorted. “I guess word gets around. I have recently had two of my children come into my life and I’m very happy for it. I’ve always been big on family and my only regret is not getting to raise my children. It’s part of the reasons I love being an ACM so much.”


“Well, I admit that I *did* hear a rumor,”  she smirked at him.  “What are their names?  Maybe they’re still young enough for you to reconnect.  And if you want more… it’s not so hard to make children, from what I understand.  I’m sure there are women willing.”


“Andreya and Trifali,” T’rifoshe said. “We’re trying to make a connection. We’ll see if it happens. And I don’t want to make children with just anyone. I want it to be with a mate and I’m not getting any younger.”


“I’m pleased to hear that, uncle.  A lot of dragonriders wouldn’t consider the mate,”  she answered.  Silfrid looked at his thoughtfully, “Andreya?” she asked.  “Isn’t she an apprentice harper?”


“I believe so, in her crafter time,” T’rif said. “She’s also helping out Kassia in her free time. Trifali, too. I know that Kassia appreciates their help a lot. I don’t envy them having to work around Foreth, personally.”


“Foreth is a bit on the grumpier side for a Gold, from what I can tell, though I honestly hadn’t seen her in turns and when I did see her she had a broken arm, so I doubt she was in a happy mood.”  Silfrid shrugged, keeping up with her dance partner’s rhythm.  “I’ll have to seek the girls out then.  Do you know what craft Trifali has taken?”


“Last I checked, she’s been working with Kassia instead of taking a craft,” T’rif said. “But I haven’t honestly had a chance to ask.” The dance picked up and Trif started moving faster. “Did you enjoy the Gather?”


“Me?  A little bit--I got out a little last night but mostly it’s been making sure this all ran smoothly,” she answered.  “But I enjoy organizing.  I enjoy seeing a plan come to fruition.  I was just one part of it all, but I enjoyed it.  I hope I can repeat it next turn as well.  Did you enjoy the Open?  And the rest of the Gather?”


“I’m a fan of the Gather in general, and was proud for Shalia,” he said. “But I also had duties keeping an eye on the Candidates, so I’m happy the Gather is almost over.”


Just then the Harper in charge came on to announce the girl’s pick dance. “Care to keep dancing, or are you ready for a different partner?”


“She did a good job, as did Andreya,” she replied.  Truth was, she had enjoyed most of the entries, but at the end of the day it was a panel and a vote had decided the winning entries.  As the song ended she paused, “I don’t mind, I imagine that it will be hard to find a dancer as good as you, uncle, you seem to have a lot of practice… I don’t mind another dance with you, or were you hoping to get picked by one of your suitors?”


“I’m fine here,” T’rif assured her. “There’s only one person I’d like to dance with otherwise and I haven’t seen her yet.”


“Then I chose you as my dance partner in the ladies dance, uncle T’rif~”  she grinned.  Who was the other person he was waiting to see?  She was curious but Assumed that if he wanted to tell her he would.  “I dont think I know anyone well enough yet for them to be expecting a dance from me… except family, of course.”


“You never know, you could catch someone’s eye.” They picked up the dance again and were only a short way in when a cry went up and people started screaming about the Weyrwoman being injured.


“Feck,” he said, glancing between where the commotion was and Silfrid. There was enough going on that he’d just get in the way. “We should get you out of here.” 


That wasn’t Silfrid’ first instinct when she head the scream.  “What are you talking about?  They said they just stabbed Kassia, we need to go over there and make sure it’s okay!”


“We’ll just be in the way and the attacker could still be here,” T’rif said. He pointed. “Look at all the people who went to help. We’re not healers. We could only make it worse. And they might know who you and I are and make us targets.”


Silfrid frowned, every instinct in her body telling her not to run.  “Let’s make ourselves useful then.”  She grabbed her uncle's hand and pull him with her as she pushed past the crowd, making her way over to the stage.


T’rif pulled back. “What do you intend to do?”


“Get on the stage and see what I can see,” she replied, letting go of his hand.  She couldn’t force him to follow, “And if it comes to it, help redirect people so we don't have a stampede.”


“They’re already stampeding and the guards are intervening.” He gestured. “I have to take care of the Candidates, if nothing else. I’d really wish you’d stay with me where it’s safer.”


“Go take care of the candidates, uncle,” Sildred smiled at him as she began moving again, intent on weaving through the crown to get to the stage.  “We all have our duties!”



Doomsday and Armageddon just had a baby and it is UGLY (Talena, Insera)

Ren
 

There was precious few things that could get to someone as tough as Talena. Someone who was used to wrangling future Pernese soldiers into respectable men and women suitable for dragonriding and saving the planet had to be tough and unmoveable. And, for the most part, Talena was. But there was just something about the Weyrwoman almost being murdered that would put one into a state of shock. If they'd be so brazen as to attack the Weyrwoman, then clearly nothing would stop them from attacking anyone else! Those thoughts kept Talena up for the two nights following the Gather, worrying Parath as Talena actually called out of her position claiming she felt ill. Not a lie, as she did feel dizzy and sick to her stomach each time she tried to leave her Weyr.

{{We need to figure out how to help you,}} Parath stated in that firm but gentle way that he had when discussing something that he knew Talena would be stubborn about. Sure enough, his rider turned to frown at him with a firelizard on either shoulder. Kohut was on vigil keeping watch for any errant bugs that might threaten his human while Viggy busied herself with nuzzling and purring against Talena's shoulder. {{They're doing a swell job, yes, but you've missed two days of work now. You need something more than a firelizard, no offense you two.}} The brown and green gave him a mostest "none taken" without letting up on their jobs.

"What do you suggest? I'm a bluerider, I don't exactly qualify for guards," Talena pointed out dryly. Parath huffed and looked down into the dusky bowl thoughtfully.

{{... Maybe not a human one,}} he mused while watching the small glowing dots walking about. {{What about a wher?}}

"A what?" Talena asked, sure she hadn't heard right.

{{Not a what, a wher!}} Came the more enthusiastic reply. {{There are plenty of people with one here so it wouldn't be too far off to have one. Why, I think this would be a swell idea! You'd get a little guard that can talk to me if anything happens and then I can sound an alarm. It's swell.}}

"Kohut and Viggy can do that," Talena pointed out skeptically. 

{{They aaren't always with you,}} Parath shot back readily. {{And bless Viggy's egg but she's not that attentive. Kohut, meanwhile, is often off watching the munchkins to make sure they're behaving. A wher would have to stay with you all the time.}}

Talena had to admit that he had a point. So she thought on it well after dawn and decided that her dragon was right. So she donned her riding leathers, firmly called her firelizards to their spots on her shoulder for long enough to order them to guard duty, then boarded her dragon. Parath tried to keep his eagerness to himself as he flew his rider to the Wherhall, home of the best-trained and behaved whers and surest place to find a wher to help Talena overcome her fear.

The moment that they landed, Talena slid off of her blue and knocked at the Wherhall doors.
--
Ren's Riders: Arialae, C'fan (Fort), D'cul (AWLM), F'liau, L'nel, L'nix, L'yall, N'met (DH), Ran'omi, R'vbor, S'dren, Talena (ACM), T'eko, T'mah, Vofali (Searchrider), W'rian, Zyreai (Healer), F'lo (FF Weyrling), V'riu (FF Weyrling), S'lion (MD Weyrling)

Ren's Crafters: Diagir (Whercraft), Reitz (Whercraft), Torinael (Healer), Ozfini (Healer)

Are you afraid of the dark? Come play in the Shadow...


Re: A Helping Hand (ATTN: Kassia, Trifali)

Jessica Freise
 

Some might have asked what was in it for them. For Fali, it was simply that this was a well-respected woman, not to mention family.

"Yes, Lady."

On Jun 16, 2020, at 2:19 AM, sailyn2 <empressoftheworld@...> wrote:

"Great, meet me on your free time tomorrow," Kassia said. "I'll get a schedule going after that."


Re: A Helping Hand (ATTN: Kassia, Trifali)

sailyn2
 

"Great, meet me on your free time tomorrow," Kassia said. "I'll get a schedule going after that."


Re: Fish Time, Mother (Kiloth/F'lo, Foreth)

sailyn2
 

Kassia smiled. "I'm glad to hear that. Not that you fell, but that you two have come together. Keep working on that bond, it's very important even though it's stronger now than before."

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