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.
============================================================================

June 26, 2000.  PernMUSH.  E'vrin's POV.
--
IC time unknown (forgot to check +time).
Cast:  E'vrin, Kassima.

After E'vrin makes an appearance at the Benden Hold banquet given by Baker
Journeywoman Dendra, Kassima comes a-visiting at his weyr.
============================================================================

Dragon> Sharath senses that Lysseth taps a mental finger against crystal walls: 
knock, knock. Anyone home?

Sharath> Lysseth senses that Sharath flickers out a lazy tongue of flame, lapping 
over that finger with canine familiarity: home, and sleepy, and warm by the stove. 
Come in!

Dragon> Sharath senses that Lysseth's thoughts click as claws on stone, crystal 
spires catching at that flame to steal some warmth for self--why, thank you. Don't 
mind if she does.

Kassima comes in from the ledge.

E'vrin's head pokes out from behind the inner weyr's curtain; vague behind him are 
glimpses of white shoulders, the swing of white tunic around white thighs. "Is 
Lysseth coming in, too? If so, tell Sharath to move over; he's hogging the stove 
again."

Sharath is, in fact, and looking not at all apologetic for it, as he flexes and 
curls one forepaw before that little metal pot o' heat.

"E'vrin?" Kassi hails as she ducks in from outside, squinting in the unfamiliar 
room. "Sharath said--g'deve, Sharath--that 'twere here; I need t'ask you about the 
sweep reports... I'm taking it I've caught you just back." Lysseth does poke a nose 
in, but only a nose, and that to snort towards the bronze. "She says that she'll 
stay outside where the hogs aren't, but thankee."

E'vrin disappears again, but his laughter carries, muffled, through the curtain. 
"He's no porcine, he'll have both of you know, but a poor, overworked dragon who 
deserves his share of warmth -- since I'm too small to take even a little share of 
it, anyway. And, yeah, just got back. I'm changing now. Reports should be on the 
table by the couch...? No fire-lizards anymore to mess things up--"

Kassima only tuts, and shakes a finger at the bronze. "Overworked, overworked, this 
after a gallivant to Benden for that festival--overworked indeed. In need of warmth, 
I can credit." She moves to collect the hides, thumbing through the array. "How did 
it go? 'Twas there m'self, yestereve, and wound up covered in feathers and with a 
wrenched shoulder for m'trouble. Ought to make Fall fun for awhile. I don't think 
I've ever seen that white thing a'fore?"

"New from Southern, yes," comes the answer, then a pause. "Did you want to see it 
before I finish taking it off?"

Sharath just rolls his eyes (because that's what dragons' eyes do, after all) and 
warms his other paw. Poor baby.

"I'd nay mind," Kassi allows, looking up. "You went t'Gathers in Southern? 'Twould 
think 'tis too bloody hot down there t'do more than lie about and pant."

E'vrin slides out from behind the curtain -- not showmanship, just the way the thing 
hangs between the walls -- and shakes out the tunic. His expression is faintly 
sardonic. "Did my share of that, too, but ... well, there's not much to do while 
being laid up with injuries. Looking through weaver designs and arguing over cloth 
swatches passed some time."

Kassima sets the hides down to fold her arms, tapping her lower lip with one finger. 
She's considering. "White has never been m'favored color," she finally says, "but it 
suits that dark bronzing of yours admirably. I'd be surprised if'n 'tweren't pounced 
on the moment you got in the door."

A slight smile eases E'vrin's expression as he drops his arms from a modelling pose, 
and he admits, "Several people at the banquet did call out to me, and Journeyman 
Dendra made sure I was welcomed and seated before she returned to supervising. Well. 
In the South, since white reflects sun so well, see, it was the right choice to 
make, and now I can wear it because it's Telgar's color."

Kassima's mouth twitches towards a grimace at the very mention of 'Telgar's color'; 
she smooths it out. "You certainly received more attention than me, then," she 
quips. "Perhaps I should have worn white rather than black, or Ro's slinky dress 
instead of leathers." Patting the hide stack, "These reports seem to be in order. 
Leya was also at the Gather, I believe; I don't suppose she happened to mention 
whether hers are likewise finished."

You say "Didn't." He goes back inside; various cloth-and-thump sounds emerge, along 
with the rest of his comment. "She was busy eating, although you /were/ mentioned. 
Master Mirala said something about getting you to try mint soup, I think, and so on. 
Whatever you wear or don't wear, Kassi, people do notice you."

Kassima snorts dismissal, leaning one-handed against the table on which the hides 
lie. "Posh. 'Tis nonsense. Though *Mirala* would notice me; we spent several hours 
going through the booths t'pick up sweets for the children and suchlike. 'Twas the 
mint ice cream she meant--which was, by the by, an epiphany."

E'vrin pushes back through the curtain, now considerably more casual in garb, and 
cocks his eyebrows at her. "Ice cream, then -- you'd never had that flavor before? 
--Oh, sit, sit. As long as you're here, I can play host. Something to drink?"

"Thankee," says Kassi, grave, and does so. "'Tisn't a bad place that you've here; I 
don't think I'd seen it a'fore... nay, nay mint. There's nay often ice cream here or 
anywhere by accounts. Something t'drink would be lovely, if'n you're nay minding; 
what d'you have?"

E'vrin answers, distracted while he fusses with the battered pitcher and cups on the 
low table in the conversational area, "You've seen it before -- at Igen, right? 
Pretty sure you visited there, back in my young and foolish days." And he slants her 
an arch look full of self-deprecation to go with the words. "--This is straight 
juice, I think. I don't drink much on my own, just to be social. Is that all right?"

Kassima's return look is brimming with drollness, similar depriciation riding the 
surface like cream on cocoa. "Poor, young, foolish you. Aye, I did, but after five 
Turns m'memory isn't so good as that. Old age creeping up on me, nay doubt." Half-
facetious, half-serious. "Juice is fine. I'm nay allergic t'nonalcoholic drinks, 
whatever rumor may say."

"I've not heard such vile slander," E'vrin responds with a good show of innocence. 
Handing over a cup, he keeps one for himself, cradled while he stays standing for a 
moment, his back to the bit of the stove that his dragon allows him to use. "Young, 
foolish me; old, decrepit you. A good pairing for the wing, that, hmm?"

Kassima mmm-hmmms with audible disbelief, taking her cup and sipping neatly from it. 
"Aye; old age and treachery do outmatch youth and cunning, so 'tis just as well that 
Leya's low in Turns as well. Do promise you'll see that m'shriveled carcass is 
buried at Benden when I keel over? I bade Aph attend to it, but we've nay had much 
t'do with each other for Turns. I doubt she remembers."

You say "Of course. You don't want to go out with Lysseth, gone /between/ instead?"

"If'n I fall off her neck in m'decrepitude, I'm quite certain the wench shall go 
without me." Kassi waves her hand dismissively. From outside comes another snort.

E'vrin's eyes slew that way, pause on the way back to meet Sharath's glittery gaze, 
then fix again on his wingleader. "Ah," he says only and changes the subject. 
"S'pose you're right about the ice-cream scarcity in this climate, but oh, mint's 
good with about anything. I'm glad you had the chance to find that out."

Kassima diplomatically hides a smile at the change. "Blame the twins," she suggests. 
"They brought the mint-obsession, just as Khari did the kiwi. Thank Faranth Kris's 
fixation on chutney didn't last. I advise you t'never get pregnant if'n you can help 
it--nay that this should be hard to avoid unless there's something about yourself 
you've nay told me."

E'vrin leans back against the wall by the stove, his hip brushing the walking stick 
leaning there already, but not knocking it over. "I'll do my best," he avers dryly. 
"That'd be something to see, to be sure, and it's something that you wouldn't have 
to be told about: surely you would've noticed by now, during one of our trysts?" My, 
but he /does/ sound dry.

Kassima can return dryness for dryness, and does: "Oh, I don't know; mayhaps 'twas 
too preoccupied. Anyway, if'n you could, *you* would be the one t'get t'tell Kris 
about you being the mother to his next sibling. Just so this is clear."

E'vrin smiles sweetly. "Only if I get to be the one, too, who crushes hands?"

"Of the father," Kassi agrees. "Certes! Don't look at *me*, though; I quite lack the 
facilities for fatherhood. As you likewise might have noticed."

"I think I might've, between distractions," E'vrin agrees and watches her over the 
rim of his cup for a swallow or two. "...What's your thought on that, by the way? Is 
it bad for the wing?"

Kassima repeats, thoughtful, "Bad for the Wing." She toys with her mug, turning it 
between long fingers. "'Twould say it isn't inherently so, since it doesn't alter 
your standing--or mine--in any fashion. Whether it could become so through 
perception's another matter. Worth considering. Have you heard any whisperings in 
the ranks? I haven't, but I might nay at that."

E'vrin admits, "Haven't, but haven't been listening for it, and ... well, would they 
tell me directly? No."

"That's true enough." Kassi leans back in her chair. "I'm going t'say with caution 
since 'tis Thunderbolt it mightn't matter. Skyfire, I'd be worried about; Mart's the 
sort t'disapprove and pass the attitude along. Kena's a good friend of mine and 
foster-mother t'my children, and there wasn't trouble... though that's nay quite the 
same."

E'vrin adds, back to sardonic, "That attitude would explain the recent spate of 
weyrmatings in Skyfire, wouldn't it? Like leader, like followers."

Kassima agrees dust-dryly, "One could say so. Ask I'sai sometime about the 
difficulty he had with Mart--he doesn't approve of same-sex relations. And so life 
was difficult. Perhaps I should be amazed that m'Wing's such a bastion of high 
reproductive rates, given m'usual choice of lifestyle."

E'vrin pulls a long face. "I'm not living up to standards in that regard."

Kassima's voice holds sympathy. "You've two fine offspring; that's nay so very few. 
P'tran has that many. I'm a bit surprised you don't have more, though--I remember 
how you've felt about children."

"My lovers just don't catch the seed, let's say, or the same attitude, perhaps." 
E'vrin sounds not discomfited by this: what is, is. "Good thing, too, with Kichevio 
down at Igen on Search; pregnant, she'd never be able to do it. And you--"

"--Would probably get slaughtered by A'lex," Kassi finishes, "with the twins only a 
Turn old just yet. Did Laila nay want...?"

E'vrin looks aside. "Did," and his voice stays level only by an effort visible in 
Sharath's swirling yellowed eyes and the curl of a forepaw's talons, "but then she 
didn't want to visit or write after a while, and we -- well, it just ended, that's 
all. You know whereof I speak, of course." Instead of dry, he directs bitterness at 
himself: love the past.

Kassima hesitates; reaches a hand to rest on his arm. "If'n I'm nay allowed t'be 
bitter, neither are you," she points out in quiet. "It happens, and we both know it. 
I'm sorry. 'Twas uncouth of me t'be asking."

E'vrin sighs and lets his arm stay. "No. No, it's just that I'm tired and it's late 
and the talk of weyrmating..." He shakes his head, a smile starting (if not terribly 
mirthful). "You know, I sat down in the living cavern the other night, going over 
reports on the new wingriders, no less, and Merielan scolded me about not being in 
love the right way, since I don't lose myself in it the way she does." He widens his 
eyes histrionically. "Would /you/ want me to act like that? Again?"

"These are conditions with which I'm familiar." Kassi's note is one of self-
depriciation, as earlier, before it alters: bemusement. "So there's only one way 
t'love? Bright Faranth, she's *young*." A sigh and half a smile. "'Twas rather 
unsettling when 'twere. Sweet, though, once all of Telgar got over the shock. I'd 
want you t'act as your conscience and emotion dictates--and nay t'suit someone 
else's idea of how you should. Fair enough?"

E'vrin murmurs, "Of course," and goes back to reclining against the wall. For his 
part, Sharath oozes bonelessly across his couch, already dozing into the night's 
sleep. "And yes, she /is/ so young, and I half-fear for her relationship with T'kar: 
how it may end, who'll have to pick up the pieces, and so on." He makes a rude 
noise. "And now /I/ sound like M'rgan, stars help me."

Kassima leans similarly, tracking the bronze ooze. "They're both friends of yours, 
aren't they?" she wonders, bringing eyes back to him. "You're the sort t'worry about 
your friends. Will it end poorly, messily? Perhaps. But there's only one way of 
finding out. Mayhaps they'll be one of the lucky sets who's found love for all 
time."

"As if there were such a beast," E'vrin feels obliged to point out. "Nothing lasts 
forever. M'rgan's of the opinion, I think, that their first mating flight will be 
the test for this new weyrmating. I have a dim sense of what he means, and he may be 
right. As their friend -- yes, of course I'm that; E'vrin, friend and counselor to 
all -- I just have to wait and see. They'll swim or they'll sink. So it goes."

"True love lasts forever," Kassi argues in turn. "That's how you know it for what 
'tis. Mayhaps you can take up the romance counselling for the Weyr. I've lost 
m'taste for it, m'self." She shrugs. Sips. "He may have a point. Sexual jealousy can 
be a strong goad for a breaking up, though t'split over a flight is ruddy foolish 
if'n 'tis me you're asking. Flights happen."

You say "They do; that's what I said. Whether those two mooncalfs realize it yet, 
though..." He broods at her. "I don't believe in true love."

Kassima offers a faint smile back. "I do. Obviously. True love is eternal; all else 
is infatuation--a romantic's view, perhaps. Saskia once accused me of having a 
romantic streak, in the same breath as saying she couldn't *imagine* why I'd nay a 
love of my own." She drowns out the bitterness there with a gulp of juice. "You'd 
think after the way Merielan behaved when Alerith first chased--from what I heard 
from m'spies, she was nigh ripping May's clothes off."

You say "And I wonder how Maylia eventually calmed her down." Another headshake. 
"Can't say that I'm too comfortable with same-sex relationships, myself. Am I 
turning into M'rgan in my old age? --Don't answer that." He goes back to brooding, 
this time into his juice. When next he speaks, it's diffidently, aloofly, as if this 
whole conversation were happening to two different people. "Do you still ... wish 
for a love of your own? A true, forever-and-ever dedication?"

"She tossed her in the Lake," Kassi helpfully supplies. "C'row was there and told 
me. I don't *understand* same-sex relationships," she then admits, "since I've never 
found women 'tall attractive." No brooding from her; instead, she tips her head back 
to stare at the ceiling as she thinks. "A'course I do. Wish for it--'tis nigh an 
obsession. I didn't always, but... well. I'm guessing you don't."

You say "No. I don't know if I ever had, and maybe that, ultimately, is why we 
didn't work out."

Kassima can only smile, faint, and close her eyes. "Perhaps. You'd be the one t'know 
the why of that best. I always figured that it went pretty much as I'd predicted 
'twould."

"Pessimist," E'vrin says without much heat. It's hard to capture that, at this hour, 
after such a day. "At least I remain eternally optimistic about my private life."

"Quite," Kassi agrees, lowering her head. "I found that optimism doesn't pay, I'm 
afraid. At least if'n you expect the worst you can't be unpleasantly surprised."

You say "No, you can't, but I don't know that I'd choose to live under such a gloomy 
cloud. I haven't -- lost people, permanently, to death, say, but I've nearly lost 
myself and my dragon, and that brush was enough to fix a few crooked aspects of my 
outlook."

"I've never really come close to death." It's Kassi's turn to brood. "I've had a 
love die and friends die and mentors die. I've been ultimately responsible for 
deaths. Age and dolor are great contributors to pessimism. Perhaps," she suggests, 
adopting a too-bright tone, "you're still too young."

E'vrin barks a short laugh, but accepts the brightness and duly mirrors it back. 
"Oh, of course! Give me a few more Turns to catch up with you, Old Auntie Kassima, 
and then we'll compare notes.... I /am/ sorry. I'm sure you didn't come here to swap 
doleful tales and dark views of the future."

Kassima chides, "You'll never catch up with me; I'll always be... how old *are* you, 
anyway? A few Turns older, whatever." Crooking him a smile, "'Tis all right. Mayhaps 
'tis better in the long term t'be letting the dolor out. I've felt remarkably less 
bitter after screaming at you... I never did apologize for that."

E'vrin's attention pricks up with a faint frown. "Why would you apologize? We both 
said some nasty things, but it came from both sides, certainly, and if it did you 
some good..."

"I'm nay," Kassi points out, "accustomed t'screaming at people, drills excepted. I 
don't think I have since K'tyn and Maylia were cheating on their weyrmates, and that 
was... what, seven, eight Turns agone? Besides, I startetd it."

"No, I did," E'vrin calmly refutes, hooking his cup over an elbow as he folds his 
arms in his wall-lean. "I was going after you hammers and tongs, taking out my own 
negativity on you, just to see you explode like one of those smoking islands out at 
sea, for my own amusement. So, there, I think we're even, and no need to apologize."

Kassima agrees, "'Twere, I suppose, and I hope the explosion was sufficiently 
entertaining." Dryness, but a sort of gallows humor too. "All right. But I *am* 
sorry for the cut about Kris; that was unworthy of either of us. I wanted t'take a 
turn at twisting the knife, I suppose."

E'vrin nibbles on the corner of his mouth. "Well, after all that emasculation talk 
... knife-twisting is appropriate for an analogy, I suppose, if uncomfortable as 
shards to me."

"Wasn't meant that way," Kassi says at once. "Only a metaphor, like pouring salt in 
wounds or whatnay. I just tend more towards knives than salt."

E'vrin's shoulders shift against the wall. "And /I/ know that, but tell it to the 
parts of my anatomy that try to crawl back up into my body at the very idea." He's 
back to dry: safe ground.

Kassima's eyes dance wickedness. "I'm amazed," she drawls, "that you can ever stand 
being in m'weyr, with the knife-rack and the tunnelsnake head and all. If'n I 
promise t'never use a knife on you, will it make you feel any safer?"

E'vrin retorts, "Or we meet /here,/ where there're no knives at all."

"Except for those I'm carrying. If'n you'd rather, certes--" Kassi glances towards 
the furnace. "And your place is certes warmer, when Sharath's nay taking the heat 
all for himself. Nay that I can blame him, poor desert beast."

E'vrin does his long face. "I'm a desert beast, too...." How 'bout a little sympathy 
for the rider?

Kassima obediantly sympathizes, "You *are*, poor thing. And your dragon won't even 
share his stove, and you've nay fire-lizards t'crawl in your bed and warm you. 
However d'you survive it?"

E'vrin smiles. "I invite people into my bed, when I can, and when I can't, I roll 
myself up in blankets like meat in a roll."
You say "Speaking of..."
You say "You're welcome to stay the night, if you like."

"Now there's an intriguing mental image," Kassi murmurs over cup-rim. Setting it 
down, drained dry, she considers him in solemnity. "Methinks 'twould," she finally 
says. "If'n 'twouldn't mind."

"No," E'vrin says, not looking away, and his cup's long been empty, but who's 
quibbling? "I wouldn't. I do care about our wing's leadership, but I don't think 
it'd suffer if we were lovers. I don't. We're already friends, and more -- with so 
many ties between us, so much history -- it isn't as if you'd completely lose your 
mind over me, nor I over you, threatening Thunderbolt."

"We're friends; we've been lovers a'fore; we share a child," Kassi agrees quietly. 
"If'n there were damage t'be done, methinks the history would already have done it--
and it hasn't. We're both cognizant of duty and nay like t'threaten the Wing over 
anyone. So if'n 'tis your desire... then 'twould be mine, too."

E'vrin shifts. "It's just that -- you do want someone, forever and aye, and that's 
not me. It can't be; it won't be. I fear that sooner or later, I'd start to feel 
like a replacement for someone else, and I'd resent it. Do you understand?"

"I do," Kassi agrees readily. "I can't deny that, Ev; 'twould be pointless t'try. 
And I know it can't be you, any more than it could've been Jhor even if'n he'd 
lived. Methinks I do understand--but all I can really tell you is that there's nay 
anyone you're replacing--there never has been, and there likely won't be."

E'vrin shifts again, and complains, "I just can't abide listening to that 
resignation from you. I know you've been through a lot already in your life, but -- 
but."

Kassima suggests, "Call it pessimism, if'n you prefer," and shrugs one shoulder. 
"'Tis the track record. I'll be thirty-five soon. After I reached twenty, the only 
men t'take interest in me were lechers--in which catagory I have t'include Jhor--and 
you; you'll recall how everyone thought you were mad. Why *should* I expect other? 
I'm nay trying t'be defeatist, Ev, but realist--aye."

E'vrin says after a moment, "I do love you, Kassi. Just not in the way you want, 
though I don't know if it isn't, at least right now, the way you might need. Can you 
ever be satisfied with a small love, if not one of the great big ones, or would you 
feel cheated, too?"

Kassima flickers a smile, wan. "And I you. Did you ever realize? Nay longer in that 
way either, thank Faranth for all her mercies, but in a fashion. Can I be 
satisfied... I don't know. Pleased by? Grateful for? Certes both of those. Happy 
with? Possibly. But if'n you mean would I nay longer want the other, then I think 
I'd have t'be saying nay. I'd always take it if'n the world offered it t'me."

E'vrin scuffs his heel pensively against the floor, shifts his weight to suit. "But 
... all there is, here, with us, is friendship, comradeship, working together and 
sleeping together if it suits us. Would that pall? Not for me, I think, and ... I'd 
have to trust you to go off and chase that true love of yours if it did come 
along." Pause. "I'm thinking aloud again. You really ought to stop me; monologues 
aren't very interesting to listen to."

"Hard t'picture me chasing a man," Kassi mutters, "unless he'd just taunted me and 
'twas with an edged weapon. I'd nay--will nay, whatever happens--expect more from 
*you*, Ev, in any circumstance, if'n that's your worry; if'n you offered more I 
might accept, or I might nay, but that's a different issue entirely." A chuckle 
escapes her then. "You've listened t'me often enough, so I'll nay complain about 
turnabout."

"All right, then." E'vrin shrugs himself away from the wall and swoops to place his 
cup, delicately so, on the table between them. He looks at it for a moment, then 
looks at her, gravity in the green eyes already fading before the first licks of 
desire's fire. "We take it day by day. That's all anyone in our position /can/ do, I 
think. I may die in tomorrow's Fall, or you may, or we both do and everything is 
moot beyond measure."

Kassima rises slowly to her feet, and offers a hand to him as she meets his eyes 
with her own intent. "Seize the day today, and don't worry about tomorrow--for the 
nonce, I like this philosophy. Even if'n we don't intend t'die. Leya would never 
forgive us for sticking her with the Wing."

"To have to deal with L'cher and the rest all by herself?" E'vrin says, laughing, as 
he pulls her to him. "She'd bring us both back from the dead, by her own hands, just 
to flog us for it."

Kassima slips her arms around him, and tilts her head back to grin up. "Such an 
effort for her. I suppose I'm too kind t'do that to a Wingmate, so I'll just have 
t'stay alive and try t'keep you alive too--oh, these burdens of conscience!"

E'vrin assures her, "You'll rise to the challenge, Kassi. You always do." And he 
kisses her to seal it.

Kassima slides a hand up to tangle in his hair, kissing back; seal and matrix. "You 
inspire me," she replies, light. "Allow me t'demonstrate?"

[And she does.  Log ends.]