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

May 6, 2001.  PernMUSH.  E'vrin's POV.
--
Your location's current time: 17:51 on day 1, month 11, Turn 35, of the Tenth
  Pass. It is a autumn afternoon.
Cast: Kassima, E'vrin, Pynor (cameo).

Old friends talk by the old lakeshore.
============================================================================
[At the lake:]

Hello, boulder, my old friend. Greenriders perch on you again. *A* greenrider,
  at any rate: Kassima, bundled snugly in her jacket and gloves so as not to 
  freeze while she works on a set of straps. Her voice rises in a hum as she 
  spears the leather with awl, threads it with gut, and generally abuses it in 
  cruel and inhuman fashion.

E'vrin, for once not looking completely and piteously unmanned by the cold that
  is Telgar Weyr in autumn, wanders down towards the shore on a vague 
  trajectory to intersect with that boulder, that old friend, and the old 
  friend perched atop it.

Oh, oh, does that mean Kassi gets to completely and piteously unman him
  instead? Not that she would, but it's good to have the option. Kassi raises a 
  strip of leather, squints at it, starts to turn it about to focus the light 
  better--and lo: there he is, espied. "E'vrin, g'deve--out here without a 
  dragon t'bathe?"

And speaking of dragons, Lysseth's resting half-in, half-out of the water,
  wingtips trailing amongst the seaweed. Lazy beast.

"He's not dirty," E'vrin says modestly as he closes the distance. "Neither am
  I, for that matter, not that I'd stoop to bathing in the lake in this 
  season...." He gives Lysseth a faintly incredulous look for her soaking spot, 
  then returns to her rider. "Just back from sweeps, at any rate. The Holder at 
  Lower Crest says hello and please stop raiding his family on Search, if we 
  wouldn't mind."

Pynor heads over from the central bowl.

Kassima observes that look, defends, "Lysseth insists she doesn't notice cold.
  Unless there's a male she favors nearby, in which case she might try looking 
  cold and pitiful." The green shivers her wings and cowers in on herself very 
  briefly, by way of demonstration. "Faranth's sake, beast--anyway, 'twill pass 
  that along, but 'tisn't *our* fault if'n his blood produces riders. Nor am I 
  sorry 'tis his, rather than other Holders I could name. And did I say you 
  looked dirty?"

Pynor smiles to Kassima, and says to the older man, "Good Day, my name is Pynor"

E'vrin laughs. "No, but I thought I'd forestall a suggestion aimed /my/ way--"
  The interruption breaks him off, and he turns slightly from presenting his 
  report to his wingleader, to peer Pynor's way. "Good, ah, day to you as 
  well." He tacks on a smile.

Pynor sees he is interupting and retreats to the lake
Pynor heads in the direction of the central bowl, leaving the shimmering lake.

"Pynor's a new resident type," Kassi murmurs helpfully to the bronzerider.
  She's settled on the boulder, straps strewn along what little of her lap is 
  still in existence. "You needn't fear I'd be dumping you in the water, now, 
  Ev. You're heavy, remember?"

E'vrin watches until the other man's out of sight. "New face," is all he says,
  thoughtfully agreeing, and goes back to the banter. "You do have a weapon at 
  hand. You could stick me and drag me -- and there's Lysseth for helping, too, 
  if she would deign to move on your behalf."

Kassima shakes her head slightly. "Must have something he forgot t'be doing,"
  she supposes. "Or realized 'tis frigid out here and there's naught really 
  t'see yet--oh, I've *plenty* of weapons beyond what you see. You know that. 
  But then I'd get all *messy*, and I don't have so many maternity things that 
  I can afford t'get 'em blood-drenched, d'you see?"

"Pity," E'vrin says, sounding anything but sympathetic to her plight because --
  well, because he can, is why, and he gives her a smug, unrepentant smile. 
  "And how is the baby coming along?"

Watch Kassi brighten at the change of topic, though not before aiming a poke at
  him with the blunt end of the awl. "You shouldn't ask that; you know how 
  mothers gush. All's well. 'Tis an active bairn; kicks up a storm, *usually* 
  when I'm trying t'get t'sleep. I'll probably be thoroughly battered in 
  another couple of months."

You say "Although not as battered as I'sai's hand as you crush its bones with
  your usual birthing-bed delicacy."

Kassima gives an airy wave of her hand. "That'll be awhile from now; he'll
  remain whole and uncrippled for a time yet."

"And thousands of women heave a sigh of relief," E'vrin says lightly. "Back to
  Lower Crest: shall I just apologize to the Holder tomorrow? He's sure to run 
  up the flag to talk my ear off again, and I'd like marching orders, as it 
  were. I've pointed out that it isn't /my/ dragon who's doing the snatching, 
  for what it's worth. He just grunts at me. Helpful man."

"Sigh in disappointment, more like, if'n he can't use that hand any longer."
  Kassi blinks large, innocent eyes; switches, "Does he still have children 
  here? Y'might be bringing word from them to him if'n possible, or just news 
  on how they fare--assuming 'tis well. And if'n he *still* complains, then 
  apologize if'n 'twill, but don't make any promises t'him. Dragons Search 
  where they will, and the younglings *could* refuse if'n they wanted to."

E'vrin nods along amiably. "Will do, will do. There are probably one or two
  still around, disappointed from the last Hatching; I could see if they want 
  to return to the fair fields of their home...." He shifts his weight to the 
  other foot, lets his gaze drift over Lysseth's seaweed repose to rest 
  somewhere in the middle of the lake. "Glad to hear you're doing well, at any 
  rate, and the child, too. Picked out a name?"

Kassima thinks to offer appropos of not much, "You're welcome t'sit, if'n you
  like; there's likely room on this particular rock. Or plenty of others. I 
  *doubt* they will, but y'never know--" She breaks off to follow the direction 
  of his eyes. "Are you troubled? Or harmlessly scattered? I've a name or two 
  in mind, but I've nay spoken with Is about it yet. K-something, naturally."

"Harmlessly scattered, I'd think, and restless." He swings his face back 'round
  to her with a rueful smile. "Thanks for the offer to sit, but I'd likely 
  fidget until you practiced leatherworking on /me/ with that awl. If it's too 
  distracting, though, I can sit behind you, perhaps, and converse that way." 
  He pauses, shifts his weight back deliberately as an example: is that 
  distracting? "...K, of course. Kassain? Kissima?"

Not surprisingly, Kassima prompts, "Restless, why? I don't mind--do what you
  will, just so long as you know you're *free* t'sit, if'n you change your 
  mind." That's the important thing, after all. She's not so easily 
  distractable as that. "Kissima. Faranth, nay. And Kassain's too close t'my 
  name--a son named Kass, 'twould be confusing."

E'vrin grants the latter points with a sideways tip of his head. "No reason,"
  he answers to the leading question, prompt about it. "Just am. Comes from 
  sitting adragonback most of the past few hours. Don't you find it so?"

Kassima tilts her head first this way, then that. Considering. "Methinks it
  used to," she grants. "After enough Turns of hidework and whatnay, nay 
  t'mention five rounds of pregnancy, you get *used* t'being seated for hours 
  on end. Seems t'be helping. I'm more apt t'get restless late at night than 
  any other time."

E'vrin muses, "So, perhaps if I tried being pregnant a few times..."

"I'd offer t'be assisting you in getting that way," Kassima drawls. "But I
  rather doubt we'd have success."

E'vrin pulls a long face. "So do I. Still, you're kind to offer." Hesitation
  grips and then releases him. "I /would/ like to have more children," he 
  continues more slowly, seriously, "but not bearing them, myself, of course. 
  So, I shall merely envy you yours, if that's all right. Are you getting 
  enough gifts out of I'sai for it?"

Kassima makes pitying eyes at the man. "Perhaps someday you'll find your wonder
  woman who can impregnate bronzeriders," she consoles. "Until then...." 
  There's a pause. She slips into a more sober mood. "A'course, Ev. And you'll 
  find women t'bear them--if'n nay Kich. I doubt Kich would be amenable. You 
  may envy mine, and may come and get your hand shattered if'n 'twould make you 
  feel better, so long as I can shatter his *too*--oh. He did give me a lovely 
  case for mint sticks, aye. Though nay green ribbon yet."

E'vrin waves an impatient hand. "I /know/ I'll have more children; it isn't too
  hard to accomplish that. Don't worry for me on that score -- though you're 
  right about Kich, of course. She's not rising to the, ah, spawning duty of 
  our wing, any more than I am." He chews on a corner of his lip for a moment, 
  staring at her on the rock. "Would it be rude of me to decline having my hand 
  shattered again? Not that I don't appreciate the offer, you /are/ kind, but 
  you know ... it hurts."
You say "You should hold out for a green ribbon, by the way. Definitely."

"Rising," Kassi mutters. "What a horrid innuendo. I do know of her lack; I've a
  bet with m'self that she'll slip up soon or late, though. Most eventually 
  do." Wicked Kassi. "Who d'you have in mind t'mother 'em, then? And 'tisn't 
  rude. Though I'll sniffle and be disappointed anyway. He *did* give me a 
  blue, long agone; does that count?"

"Not the worst innuendo I've ever committed, you have to admit." E'vrin folds
  his arms, frees one to cup his chin in the hand's palm. Hmm. "Blue's nice, 
  but it's no green," he answers, absent while he's still thinking. "--I 
  haven't drawn up a list of women, actually. Should I? That'd be a logical way 
  to approach it, I suppose: make the list and go down it until I hit 
  acceptance. Or acceptances, if I'm lucky." His eyes glitter; just how serious 
  is he? Could Kassi's wickedness possibly be contagious?

Kassima is quite possibly like firehead that way. "I've heard that A'len did
  that, when he was seeking a weyrmate. He made a list of what he did and 
  didn't want in a woman, and interviewed perspective victi--choices." Her 
  lashes lower over exaggeratedly downcast eyes. "'Twasn't eligible m'self, I' 
  afraid. He wanted women without hair. Worst innuendo you've ever committed at 
  the Lake, how's that?"

E'vrin cracks a small smile. "I'll take that; works. Oh, yes, A'len did do
  that, didn't he? But I don't want a weyrmate, with or without hair. Nor," he 
  sighs, "do I want to be ruthlessly cold-blooded about interviewing women to 
  bear my children. They aren't broodmares. It'll just ... happen, if and when 
  it decides to happen." Another head-tilt. "Did he at least interview you, or 
  did the hair rule you out immediately?"

"I know you don't," Kassi murmurs. Let's change topics, shall we? Yes? Yes.
  "'Tis your decision t'make, how you want t'go about it. I always trusted 
  t'luck m'self, but you know I'm much more prudish than you. Only flights and 
  alcohol." Her left brow rises. "Me? He certes didn't interview me. I doubt 
  'twas on his list for consideration. Leya, now, I heard he interviewed."

E'vrin rides the subject change with equanimity. "/Did/ he, now. How did that
  go?"

Kassima rolls her shoulders in a shrug. "They're nay weyrmated, which says
  about all that needs t'be said. Methinks she was nonplussed by the entire 
  business."

E'vrin snorts. "Well, wouldn't you be? I do wonder how he convinced Fiora.
  Maybe because they're both Fortians? Some kind of bond there? --Ah! I should 
  find me a nice Igenite woman, then, don't you think? And let flights, 
  alcohol, or whatever step in and take care of the rest."

"Methinks he helped her raise her first daughter," Kassi speculates, "under
  *some* sort of arrangement--and there'll be Igenite women here a'fore long, 
  I'm sure. I'd always recommend a Bendenite over an Igenite, but your taste in 
  women has always been your own, and leaned methinks more to the latter."

E'vrin rests back in a hipshot stance, arms now firmly snugged across his
  chest. His face is a study in skepticism. "What's there about a Bendenite 
  that would earn recommendation? Just for my information, since I do -- did -- 
  know many warm and wonderful Igenite women, but only one or two of the same 
  ilk from Benden." Green eyes prod hers: you know, like /you./

Kassima's eyes roll, though whether at that prodding or the anti-Bendenite
  sentiment--"Ryialla, Maylia; remember them? They're examples, and I've certes 
  heard that you got along well enough with both in the day. Just examples! The 
  problem is that our women are generally *weyrmated*, since the best of the 
  crop have found men who appreciate all they have t'be offering."

E'vrin scuffs a foot over an unoffending rock and mutters, "Isn't that the
  truth... I appreciate them. I just -- don't -- want to weyrmate with them. 
  That's all." He glances up at her, looks down again. "Ryi, May ... all right. 
  Mm. I've seen them both lately; they look well. Ryi is still blissful over 
  K'nan--" envy shades his tone glossy-dark "--and May is still crunched under 
  by her work. Poor thing."

Kassima repeats, "I know." She studies her straps and tugs lightly at the
  thread. "I hope she's still blissful. There's a thing she's been meaning 
  t'ask him about, ask him for, and if'n he's refused her... May's daughter's a 
  cute little thing. You'll probably run into her at some point." And here she 
  takes a moment to cast a dry look. "You realize that being so envious of Ryi 
  and K'nan when you don't want a mate yourself is a bit strange?"

"Isn't," E'vrin replies, also watching the straps although from his
  downcast-eyes position. He rolls the rock a few times underfoot. "Nothing 
  strange about emotions; they just /are./ I can envy them their intimacy and 
  commitment without needing to feel that I have to find some of it for my 
  own." Carefully then, he adds, "I've been in that position before, after all, 
  twice, three times. If it's to come again for me, it will. I'm content to 
  watch others, and wait."

Kassima finds her straps interesting indeed. Stitch, stitch, stitch. Such a
  diligent repairwoman she makes. "'Twould disagree," she comments lightly, 
  "but then, that's given. I'll congratulate you and your lady if'n you ever 
  find her, and wish you both well."

"Of course you'd disagree," E'vrin says with no little fondness. His eyes are
  brighter, on the straps, on her. Lookit those repairs! (And the 
  repairwoman...) "You're such an excellent anti-advocate that way; I look 
  forward to it whenever we talk. Shall we debate it or move on to other 
  topics?"

"I only argue what I believe. If'n that's different from your belief...."
  There's a shrug, and Kassi runs leather through her fingers until she comes 
  to the next stretched segment. "You pay your money, you take your choice: 
  choose a topic as 'twill."

E'vrin says after a moment, "I didn't mean it that way. I -- ah. Should I make
  my diplomatic retreat now? If I've upset you, I do apologize."

Kassima chuckles a low note, and what light remains gleams in her hair as she
  slowly shakes her head. "Don't worry about it, Ev. I'm hormonal, remember? I 
  upset easily, but you needn't flee. I'm nay bawling and throwing things at 
  you."

[A crash ate my pose; it was something about talking about their children.]

"That's safe," Kassi confirms, matching ephemeral smile for ephemeral smile.
  "Let's see. Kay's Kay, nay doubt out getting in trouble as we speak. Khari's 
  been working on painting landscapes--she does abstracts mostly, y'know, and 
  portraits, but she doesn't have much practice at actual scenery. She's 
  picking it up quickly. Kris is about t'be turning ten, y'know--I'm trying 
  t'be deciding yet what t'get him as gifts. And then the twins are the twins. 
  Kim's getting over the thumb-sucking finally, I've heard, but Ky still 
  punches people. What of yours?"

E'vrin shrugs, his mouth still quirked. "Nothing so detailed as that... Ysaeve
  is the terror of the lower caverns at Igen; I'm wondering if she's going to 
  be fostered out sooner or later. Kris is -- yes, you covered that. More 
  puzzles? A book, if it's affordable? I wonder, if we asked him, what he'd say 
  he wants for his Turnday."
E'vrin adds brightly, "It was my thirty-fifth the other day, by the way."

Kassima slants him a look of great wryness, and an equal measure of amusement.
  "Affordable. Methinks 'twould be affordable. I'd thought mayhaps a book of 
  the more advanced ballads--I didn't ask, in case he'd say what I have in 
  mind. I'd rather surprise him, d'you ken? But mayhaps I could bribe Khari 
  into needling him; I know she's painting him something. You think I don't 
  know that?" Another friendly poke at his side. "I *should've* gotten you 
  something. I'm terrible nay t'have."

E'vrin agreeably pokes back, then shifts away, preparatory to moving out,
  moving on. "Just thought I'd mention, since you reminded me about Kris's -- 
  but you /don't/ need to be buying me anything, Kassi. Shards, I'm still happy 
  over that goblet...." He trails off, blinks, and comes back with an easy 
  smile. "Then set Khari at our boy; good plan. And if she's so proficient in 
  the painting -- I believe that -- is she considering the harpers? The Hall 
  can always use more portraiture, if she has that inclination."

"She's t'be a greenrider," Kassi confides, smiling. "Or thinks so. But I don't
  think 'twill bother her too much if'n nay dragon comes for her... I imagine 
  she'll be freelance. She's good enough." No, she's not unduly proud of her 
  children, why? "That goblet was long, long, long agone, Ev. 'Tis long past 
  time for something different, methinks. Mayhaps Turnover... anyway. Shall I 
  pass on t'you any hints that Khari drops in m'ear? I've Kay t'buy for, too, 
  since they share a Turnday."

E'vrin unfolds his arms and brushes his palms quickly: dust to dust;
  acceptance, matching wry awareness in his eyes. "A long time again, but 
  forgive me for lingering over it. Yes, do pass it on, for my next visit out 
  to the Hall. I can pick something out, if it /is/ Harper gifts he'd like, or 
  you and I can pool our resources and our merry wickedness to come up with one 
  gift. We'll talk again as the time grows nearer?"

Kassima releases the straps long enough to spread her hands, palms up. "I've
  naught against your lingering in memory, Ev, though that's traditionally more 
  m'role than yours. I'll do that; I've plenty of money, and there's honestly 
  nay anyone I'd rather spend it on than the children--nay offense; you know 
  I'd spend it on you, too, if'n you needed. Have Sharath poke Lysseth if'n you 
  need t'talk and I'm not about. 'Twill nay be long a'fore I won't be hard 
  t'find again. Groundedness. Feh."

E'vrin tips her a sympathetic look. "You'll be back in the skies before long,
  and with a new baby to show for it. We should start placing bets on /your/ 
  spawning, not I'sai's.... All right, then, that's settled, and I'm off to 
  scrounge up a meal. Take it easy out here, hmm? 'Scold."

"A new baby who's bound t'be a clever little hellion," Kassima wistfully
  agrees, folding hands over that rounded abdomen of hers. "*I* may be done 
  after this; I'm nay so very young. Is is almost certain t'have more. So 
  there's less room with me... but g'luck getting to the food a'fore 'tis all 
  eaten away. Save some wherry with blueberry sauce for me?"

E'vrin, retreating, shudders. "Yes, Wingleader," he emphasizes, as if only her
  rank could compel him to get within six paces of such a fearful food 
  combination. Then he brightens a smile her way -- for the baby! -- and heads 
  on in with a wave.

Kassima wiggles her fingers in his wake, cheerfully--though not without a groan
  at the titling.

[He leaves.  Log ends.]