The World of Pern(tm) copyright (c) 1967 by Anne McCaffrey.
The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright.
An online session, recorded by permission of the author for the benefit
of members unable to attend.
=======================================================================

August 2, 1999.  PernMUSH.  E'vrin's POV.
--
Your location's current time: 21:25 on day 6, month 3, Turn 28, of the
Tenth Pass. It is a spring evening.
Cast:  E'vrin, A'zric, Iris, Jaina (cameo), Breylan (cameo), Seraphim;
       Kassima.

After some awkwardness at home, E'vrin takes gifts and himself to
Kassima at Telgar.
=======================================================================
Igen Weyr Living Cavern(#600RJMQ)
Contents:
Iris
Snicker(#5431MVp)
Meal Table
--

E'vrin swings in on long strides that take him around to inspect the
meal table critically, quickly.

A'zric ambles out from the inner caverns.

E'vrin is inspecting the meal table's offerings swiftly and busily,
his back to much of the rest of the cavern as he sidles along the
table's length.

A'zric returns to a seat with a lonely glass of wine, sliding
comfortably into the chair and propping up his feet as he enjoys
another leisurely sip.

Iris doesn't even look up as people come and go. She is just too
upset.

E'vrin finally makes an exasperated noise and turns from the
table. "Nothing worth grabbing in a hurry--" His mutter breaks off
there, at the sight of upset Iris, at the sight of wine-sipping
stranger. He blinks from one to the other.

A'zric gives a wave to E'vrin, "Ista's duties and all that."

"Igen's regards," E'vrin returns automatically and paces just a bit
closer, giving Iris her due, careful space. "What brings you by? May I
help with anything?"

--
        You see a young man in probably his late teens or early
twenties, although his mannerisms seem older than that. He stands
almost six feet at a guess, build broadly and muscled, unlike most his
age. His brown eyes are so pale as to look golden in some light,
usually quietly watching the goings on around him, with a demeanor of
calm and patience. His dark brown hair has been lightened by the Istan
sun to a sandy brown colour plaited into a somewhat irregular braid,
tied with a leather strip, reaching below his shoulder blades.
        He's currently dressed in what looks to be newer clothes yet
again, a pair of trousers in black, trim and crisp over new boots. His
shirt is of a thin cool fabric, loose and comfortable in a shade of
neutral flax. From his belt hangs a well made carving knife and a
knobbly belt pouch, no doubt full of all kinds of odds and ends. A
knot of black and orange with a thin thread of bronze shows him to be
an Istan rider to his bronze lifemate and below that on his sleeve is
a dragonhealing badge, showing him to be in training and another badge
showing him to be in the Timor wing.
--

Iris glances up at the others, continuing to cuddle the small brown
form in her arms. Her small face is a mirror of the complete sadness
that has engulfed her.

A'zric shakes his head, "No thank you, unless you'd be interested in
joining me in a glass of wine? My previous companions had to leave."

E'vrin hesitates. "A kind offer," he finally says to the Istan, "but
perhaps another time. I'll be flying later tonight and don't want to
be muzzy." He does close the space, though, sitting nearby. "Whom were
you with?"

Jaina comes in from the Bowl.
Breylan comes in from the Bowl.

Jaina trips on her gown a little before makingher way to the hallway.

Breylan has an arm around Jaina's waist as they make their way to the
inner caverns.

Jaina says, "Hellos, alls." before she disappears/

Jaina strides through the passageway into the Inner Caverns.
Breylan strides through the passageway into the Inner Caverns.

Seraphim ambles out from the inner caverns.

A'zric nods, waving to the tipsy couple as they pass, "I can
understand not wanting to be muzzy in flight, I should be doing the
same." the comment puncuated with a considering sip of the wine, "Resa
originally and then Catalina and her companion, I'm afraid I never did
catch his name."

E'vrin guesses, "Maraczek? That's her weyrmate." He relaxes somewhat
back in his seat near the Istan rider, not out of line of sight with
Iris in her corner. A nod marks Seraphim, and a fleeting smile.

Iris lifts the brown hatchling up so he can curl up just inside the
neckline of her dress, then leans back in her chair. She takes up her
mug of klah, gazing into it instead of drinking from it.

Seraphim answers E'vrin's nod with one of his own. "Igen's duties to
Ista and her Queens." he launches to A'zric, before turning to Iris,
"Hey..." he says softly as he gets near.

A'zric nods, "That would be the gentleman, they're quite the pair." he
nods again, this time in greeting to Seraphim, "Ista's duties to you
as well."

Iris looks up briefly at Seraphim, then back into her mug. Her reply,
if there is any, is too faint to hear.

E'vrin flashes some relief at the steward's approach of the young
woman, then focuses attention back on A'zric. "How's Ista?" The smile
fleets by again. "The weyrlings?"

A'zric shrugs, "Ista's it's usual tropical paradise and the weyrlings
are doing well, growing like bad weeds and learning twice as fast."

Seraphim smiles at A'zric, then turns back to Iris. "Can I?" he points
to the chair beside her.

Iris shrugs, clearly too upset to care. "Nothing matters," she says
softly, in that tone of complete surrender.

A'zric watches Iris a moment before leaning over to ask something
quietly of the other rider.

Seraphim blinks at Iris, and takes the seat silently. He runs a hand
through his runnertail absently, glancing here and there around the
cavern.

A'zric whispers "Has she been that depressed for long?"

A'zric senses "E'vrin's expression closes quietly, flowerlike, and he
hunches his shoulders. "To that degree? I don't think so. It's a
tenuous situation.""

E'vrin says a little more loudly, "Ista sounds pleasant enough,
then. Have we met, by the way? I'm E'vrin, and I'm trying to place
your name right now...."

Iris looks up at Seraphim, then sighs and leans forward, chin resting
in her palm. She says softly, "I hate it here."

Seraphim sighs, almost before she speaks, apparently expecting
that. "Wanna talk about it?" he asks, pointing to a table further
away.

A'zric holds out his hand, "A'zric, Gelth's rider from Ista. Well met
E'vrin."

Iris looks around, wondering how to get any further than the dark
corner. She shrugs, waving a hand. "Where ever." She then asks, "Do
you think Tivu would really bring me back in his teeth?"

E'vrin crosses palms with the Istan, and his smile eases away from
being forced. "Well met, in return. Just visiting us for the evening,
are you?"

Seraphim raises a brow. "I don't know... but I would." he says,
smiling tentatively. He moves to the samller table.

A'zric nods, "Just for the evening, I dropped a little parcel off for
a friend and decided to relax in another living cavern for a change of
pace. Gelth's enjoying having somewhere new to play."

Seraphim sits down at the small, dark table.

E'vrin keeps smiling. "Well, I'm glad you're enjoying it, both of
you. A change of pace is nice, isn't it?"

Iris joins Seraphim at the table, taking care not to wake her new
hatchling.

A'zric smiles after a swallow of his wine, "Like the Aunties say, a
change is as good as a rest, although somehow they usually come up
with this gem when they want a new chore done."

E'vrin laughs softly. "Don't they just. It's not a bad try at a
technique, I think."

A'zric nods, "I've certainly heard worse.. this one at least works on
the littles a couple times before they catch on."

Iris quietly talks with Seraphim, her expression changing like the
tides, from sad to angry to depressed and then back again.

You say "Well, children learn fast. Speaking of..." He makes an
apologetic face. "I was really only stopping in here for a bite to eat
before I head out. Perhaps we'll catch up with each other another
time, A'zric? It's been a pleasure, even a brief one."

A'zric holds up his glass by way of acknowledgement, "Visitors are
always welcome at Ista, clear skies to you E'vrin."

E'vrin's smile holds a wry twist to it. "Yeah, I know they are. A good
night to you and Gelth." He stands, glances towards the small, dark
table with visible vacillation, and then just walks out.

[I did spell that v-word right (I looked it up later).  Off to Telgar:]

Sharath> Lysseth senses that Sharath's mind swoops casually near. <<
Visiting, >> he announces, blithe and bonny. << May I land? >>

Dragon> Sharath senses that Lysseth's thoughts crystallize
silver-white with surprise, before colors return in a cheerful enough
rush. << By all means. You remember which is the ledge? >>

Sharath> Lysseth senses that Sharath assures her, << E'vrin does. We
come. >>

You fold your wings and land on Lysseth's ledge, then make your way
into the weyr proper.

You slide down Sharath's shoulder and foreleg to the ground.

Sharath stays politely out on the ledge, curled up into a little
bronze ball. His rider paces inside, on the other hand, with nary a
suggestion of hesitation. Has lumpy jacket pockets, too.

Lysseth, curled up in her considerably warmer couch, warbles a
curtain-muffled greeting; Kassima is still in the process of standing
from her desk chair, straightening the hides she was evidently working
on. "E'vrin, Sharath, good evening," she greets. Surprised would be a
good word for her expression. "Duties to Igen and her queens, of
course. Is there something I can do for you?"

E'vrin pauses. "--Ah, nothing, nothing businesslike, that is." His
eyes go significantly, a bit guiltily, to those hides. "Do I
interrupt?"

"Nay, nay truly." Kassi glances at the hides with rueful
amusement. "They can certes wait; I've only gotten in the habit of
working on them of an evening. Please, sit, make yourself at
ease--aught I can get you t'drink or the like?"

E'vrin shakes his head and moves with old familiarity -- ah, well --
to a seat. Sits. Settles his pockets and looks up at her calmly,
blandly. "I'm fine, thanks. Don't want to make you work in your own
home, eh?"

Kassima gives a quiet chuckle, and shrugs amiably, moving to perch on
the sitting rock. "Suit yourself. It's been a time since we've had
much in the way of company, so I hope 'twill forgive me if'n 'twas
effusive." Green eyes do take note of the pockets, and an eyebrow
twitches upwards a fraction; still, she makes no vocal query. "I did
get to Ista t'see the clutch Hatch," she mentions instead. "A fine
group, 'twas. Many greens. Life's been treating you well?"

"Well enough," E'vrin allows. "The clutch Hatched healthy, and the
weyrlings are happy; that's all we wanted to see. And yourself?"

Kassima quirks a smile and holds out a hand to waggle it back and
forth. "Like this, like that. The Wing does well; one of ours was
chosen for assisting Maylia again. Lysseth does well. The children are
well. Thus, I am also well." Folding her legs up to tuck her chin on
her knees, she remarks, "I saw you at the Gather a few sevendays
agone. Forgive me for nay saying aught t'you then, but I feared what
else Mart would say if'n I didn't make quelling him m'first
priority. Lysseth told me that Sharath reported your life as being a
full one these days."

E'vrin's own lips hitch a rueful smile. "S'pose it is, although now
that I don't have to divide time between Igen and Ista, it's less full
than it was." Pause. "May I say, you looked smashing in that otherwise
silly fashion show? Much better than your, ah, male
counterparts. /Believe/ me."

"One duty I'm glad 'twill never need worry about, this spending time
at other Weyrs business," Kassi allows. "I still travel t'Benden
often, a'course, but 'tis by choice only. If'n you had t'be at another
Weyr for a time, there could've been worse ones by far than Ista
climate-wise; there's that much." Another smile, less wry, flickers to
life. "Thankee. 'Tis nay m'color, grey, but when I saw what the
*others* were wearing... I'm still wondering how they let themselves
be bribed or tricked into it. You'd not have seen me in any such
thing, for true." Mischief sparkles briefly brighter in dark
eyes. "The question is, why weren't you up there t'model also? You'd
have cut a smashing figure in a kilt, say."

E'vrin startles an instant, then retreats behind rue again, and
amusement. "Me? Shards, I leave that to the good-looking among us. A
wingmate was up there -- did you meet Janine? -- and a young resident
of ours, whom I think has been Searched by you now. Leya. That was
Igen's contribution. I was glad to watch and very glad not to have to
wear what, say, your Weyrleader was."

Kassima folds her arms and favors the bronzerider with a mock-chiding
look, her own amusement tugging the corners of her mouth
upwards. "Some things, at least, haven't changed. 'Twere ever
better-looking than you claimed. Janine... she was the one in the
dress, aye? Nay bad, for something pink. I recognize her name, and
Leya's, but have met neither." A quick, rueful shrug. "I've nay met
most of the Candidates yet. *That* was truly a traumatic piece of
clothing, thus putting t'death m'thoughts that aught could look good
in red and black." Pausing a moment, her eyes flick towards your
pockets. "Forgive me for being nosy, but if'n I don't inquire as
t'what's in your pockets, I fear 'twill find m'self cracking one of
those horrid 'Is that a whatever in your pocket or' jokes."

[It'd been a long time for us.  Searching for the rhythm.]

E'vrin says solemnly, "Faranth forfend. Actually, I was going to
mention them, anyway. Thought I'd cut right through the awkwardness
and politesse, and get right to the guilt and appeasement: They're
gifts."

Kassima pauses a moment, then gives a rueful laugh. "Awkwardness and
politesse... aye. All right, good t'be knowing I'm nay the only
one. But whyfor the guilt?" Honest curiousity marks her voice. "Nay
that I'm one to *object* t'gifts, mind...."

"I haven't visited in more than a Turn, not even to see my -- our --
son." E'vrin sounds flat, but reasonable and calm for all that:
statement of fact. "That's the guilt part of it, and I freely admit
it's of my own making, so don't worry about reassuring me if you were
inclined to do so. --Were you?"

"Nay, you haven't," Kassi agrees, readily enough. No censure, only
acknowledgment. "I understood it. Awkward, 'twould be. Perhaps a bit
less so now--and shouldn't I be? I've never held ill-will towards you,
E'vrin. Nor expected aught of you, 'twould like t'think."

E'vrin dips his head -- acknowledgment or just physical expression of
some internal pause -- then raises it and says more clearly, "Thank
you. I know we didn't part under the best circumstances, Kassi. There
was ... so much in my life, and I pushed away from /every/one
... including you. I'm sorry."

Kassima lowers her own head a moment at that, before looking back up
at you with a smile at once wry and rueful. "They could have been
better; they could have been worse--I don't think 'twas ever anger or
hatred between us. I won't say 'twas happy about it, but... you've
found happiness in life since, Sharath seemed to imply, and so all
must have been for the best. 'Tis nay so?"

You say "You mean ... well, I've not weyrmated or anything -- nothing
close, even! You know me, I suppose -- but there's a good woman, a
good friend, at Igen who says she loves me, and I'm awed and delighted
by it, so." His nose twitches a little; above and around it, he stares
at her fixedly. "What about you?"

"That's something," Kassi notes, sounding vaguely pleased. "You
deserve love, in some form or fashion. 'Tis the lady 'twere with at
the Gather?" At the query, she gives a snort of laughter. "Me? I think
nay. I've sworn off romance and all its associates long since; I keep
t'myself, with m'work, dragon, and kidlings, and 'tis past enough for
me." Glancing towards the other room, she mentions offhand, "Speaking
of kidlings... Kris is asleep by now, but if'n you'd like t'see him, I
could try bringing him out. Or taking you in, whichever."

E'vrin hesitates over the middle of her words, but as she'd done
before in looking at his pockets, he doesn't comment. Now,
anyway. Still tiptoeing through the scene, he nods and lets loose a
genuine smile. "I'd like that. Probably easier for me to peek in on
him, right? You can show him his present when he wakes up, I
guess...."

[Maybe he'd get after her about seeking companionship -- but probably
 not.  Enough vacillation for one night, really.]

Kassima smiles agreement, unfolding limbs to slip down from the rock
perch soundlessly. "Aye, 'twould be easiest. He's the best-behaved of
all of mine... he can actually sleep peacefully at night. A miracle."
Smile softening further, she adds, "He looks something like you,
methinks. A bit like me. Like himself most of all."

E'vrin creeps up behind her obediently, already peering forward to see
the kid. "--Well, to be expected. I know I missed his Turnday -- when
do children start to look like a person, anyway? Two, three?"

Kassima pushes aside the nursery curtain, pacing to the one crib in
the room; the two child-sized and one adult-sized cots are
unoccupied. "'Maeva took the lasses t'Greystones t'see runners
racing," she explains offhandedly, then reaches an arm to smooth the
black hair of the sleeping two-Turn-old boy in said
crib. "Therabouts. A little bit from birth, methinks, but 'tis
stronger later."

E'vrin crouches down beside the crib and peers inside for a long
moment. Then he says, a little unsteadily, "He's so big."

"Getting bigger all the time," Kassi agrees softly, adjusting the
blankets to cover him more securely. "As beautiful and bonny a boy as
ever I've seen. Nay that I'm biased or aught. He started speaking a
bit last Turn--there're a lot of things he can say now." Turning, she
notes with a flickered grin, "You sire fine children, 'twould seem."

E'vrin smiles a little. "Should see Ysaeve -- that's my daughter. Once
she passes through the stage of being determined to chew and destroy
everything in sight, she'll be something, all right." He looks up from
the crouch. "Not that you had anything to do with him, of course. Not
at all."

Kassima laughs quietly at that, leaning her elbows against the
crib-rim. "Faerysa's, too, nay? She must be lovely. Sounds a bit like
Kay; she was destructive, and into hitting Weyrleaders with spoons."
Casting down an amused look, she remarks, "Well... mayhaps a
*little*. Just a tad. Naught t'be speaking of, though."

E'vrin snorts and rises through its echoes to his feet. "Right. I was
there at her birth, remember? My poor /hand/ surely does," and he
flexes it with a mock-despairing grimace.

Kassima immediately turns all mock-solicitousness. "Awwww. Did it
never recover? Poor bronzerider--I *am* sorry. You got your hand
squished, your life threatened, and kept being encouraged t'commit
homicide; it can't have been an easy experience." She drops a wink,
and a matching grin. "I'm sure 'twere traumatized for life."

E'vrin wrinkles his nose at her. "Keep it up," he warns, "and you
don't get /your/ gift."

Kassima sticks out her tongue in turn, but it's a brief gesture as
curiousity and interest take over. "*My* gift? Ev, you didn't have
t'be getting me aught, you know that."

E'vrin merely smiles and gestures her to preceded him into the main
weyr again.

Kassima lifts an eyebrow, curiousity clearly growing, but humors him
and sweeps back into the weyr proper and onto her perch. "You're being
mysterious," she observes. "Should this worry me?"

[The net killed me at that point, so we reconstructed the rest of the
 evening ex post facto some days later.  Light talk, agreement about
 being friends now, and Ev handed over the presents:  for Kris, a soft
 white leather pouch embroidered in black and gold beads, a simple
 dragon-in-flight pattern; for Kassi, a black knife sheath, empty,
 with a white snake twining 'round, fanged mouth open to strike and
 emerald chips for eyes.  To be continued.  Log ends.]