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We're a Happy Family


Date:  September 20, 2003
Place:  Lysseth and Kassima's Weyr
Game:  PernMUSH
Copyright Info:  The World of Pern is copyright(c) to Anne McCaffrey 
l967. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright.

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Kassi's Note:  Kassima gets a rare chance to play hostess--sort of--
when Javinia pays a visit to check out her Wingleader's interior 
decorating skills (or lack thereof).  Kaswyn's only too pleased to 
provide music and entertainment for the occasion, to Kassi's 
dismay.  It's a wonder she's still as happy as she is about the news 
she shares with Javi, after enduring this latest Kazy and Spoon
concert. ;)

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The Log:

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Naelanth's characteristic blues and grays steal
forth into a light touch of greeting, easily recognizable from drills and
exercises, before his mindvoice sounds its lower, more fluid, tone. << Mine
wishes to know if we might visit you and yours. >> Out of courtesy, and
most likely at his rider's behest, he adds, << She speaks of seeing your
weyr, and asks that you 'warn' yours -- in case. >> This last is left
unexplained.

Lysseth> Naelanth senses that Lysseth's crystal matrix is patterned with an
unusual amount of whimsy: ice-blue and pale-green spires around a pool the
same purple as the sky at dusk, with glowing golden glints that might be
fish darting to and fro within. << My rider is not busy, and says that you
are both welcome--though I'm not sure she knows what to make of the
warning, >> and there's a brief flash of image from rider-mind, of Javinia
coming with buckets of paint on a mission to reproduce the giant puce-nosed
face on Kassima's weyr wall.

From the air, Naelanth drops from his ledge, wings snapping wide to catch
the afternoon's winter breeze, allowing that to lift him higher, where he
and rider slip wider, taking in the bowl in an unnecessarily circuitous
route. Some small thing sets him rumbling, and his rider smacks his neck
before he banks toward a certain ledge along the caldera wall.

Naelanth backwings for a landing.


Lysseth and Kassima's Weyr
	The first thing one is apt to notice upon entering this weyr is its 
odd decoration. The furniture is normal enough: a sizeable bed is over to 
one side of the room, covered by a sumptuous peacock blue comforter; the 
press directly beside it is the resting place of a glowbasket, shielded or 
open as befits the time of day. A colorfully-patterned quilt lies folded 
atop the chest at the bed's foot or on the bed itself depending on the 
season. Shelves strewn liberally with knickknacks rest against the same 
wall that holds a well-filled knife rack. Some sort of cabinet is tucked 
in a corner--the wine glasses arranged atop it hint at its use, while not 
far away is the curtain that separates this room from the children's 
quarters. It's a very comfortable sort of place. Yet no one could doubt who 
lives here: the perching rock, tunnelsnake head trophy, dagger-shaped 
suncatcher over the entrance, and collection of artwork almost scream 
Kassi's name.
	On the farthest end of the weyr is Lysseth's couch, thickly lined 
with soft sleeping furs of dark shades. A large stuffed chair, upholstered 
to match that comforter, sits opposite to the foot of the bed; a small low
table in front of it doubles as a footstool. The much finer variant between
bed and couch no doubt serves more formal purposes. Unsurprisingly,
fire-lizard perches and upside-down boxes are still scattered about.
	The view is spectacular in this highly-situated weyr; the sunrises 
and sunsets from here must be truly amazing, especially accompanied by the
sounds of wind and dragonwings that are audible when the sapphire entrance
curtain is drawn. Not overly large as ledges go, the expanse of rock
outside is nonetheless ample enough for Lysseth to bask on in comfort when
she chooses.

The afternoon is clear, and the sun shines with a few small clouds floating
past. There seems to be a light breeze and the winter air feels a bit nippy. 
Contents:
Naelanth
Lysseth
M'rgan's Fright
Slithereth Tapestry
Lord Tuber's Defeat
Kassima's Dragonpoker Table
Ketsurai Dragon Box


Naelanth catches at the lip of the ledge with outstretched claws, wing
blocking the brighter afternoon light in the instant before they fold
lazily along umber hide, shoulders shaking out muscles anxious for further
flight. He dips his head to Lysseth, cocking his head so that ice blue eyes
dip as well. Javinia gives a more cheerful, "Heyla, Lysseth. You're very
kind to allow us up. May I go in?" as she dismounts.

Javinia swings a leg over, then slides down Naelanth's shoulder.

Lysseth must not fancy the cool of the outdoors when greater warmth is near
at hand: much of the green is hidden behind the entrance curtain, though in
anticipation of visitors she's poked the end of her slender muzzle through
so that her nose at least is visible. When the brown lands, she edges
forward enough for her eyes, too, to come into view: tranquilly blue, the
blue of aquamarines in sunlight. She rumbles. That's probably a yes. But
just in case, her rider calls out too from somewhere within the weyr,
"C'mon in, Javi, Naelanth, if'n that's you--the green beast will move aside
enough to let Naelanth come in if'n he'd rather nay stay out in the cold."

The brown settles his bulk, muscles shifting beneath darker umber hide, his
tail whisking off over the ledge. At least the ground is dry today, no snow
to cascade down, down onto the other ledges below. With a rather bright
grin for the green, Javinia trots over to the curtain, giving Lysseth her
space, and a kind, "Thank you much," again, as she ducks inside. Then,
"Thanks, Kassi. For Naelanth, too. But he'll be fine outside. In truth, he
prefers it, especially with the sun out for a change, and he can watch who
comes and goes. Sometimes I think he'd make a fine watchdragon."

Lysseth affords another congenial-sounding rumble, and withdraws her head
again, though she leaves her muzzle outside. "You look like a complete
crackshell when you do that," Kassi mutters; the tailtip-twitch she
receives in return might be the draconic equivalent of an obscene gesture.
The weyr is certainly warmer than the outdoors, thanks in part to the small
brazier burning not far from the bed itself. Even so, Kaswyn--who sits on
the floor across from his mother, apparently working to build a whimsical
and haphazard structure of blocks with her--has been securely bundled up in
a sweater and knit wool pants. Doubtless this situation thrills him. "He
might well, except for the part where he likes to go a-wandering so
often--that's nay encouraged in a dragon on watch," the greenrider says,
grinning up at her Wingmate. "So long as he's comfortable. What's this
though about m'needing t'be *warned*? Are you plotting some sort of
mischief most dire?"

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Naelanth 's projection still holds and reflects
that crystal matrix with his own prismatic humor, its glimmering flash kept
to the edges of the waters of his mindvoice. No orange faces with puce
noses -- not today. << Mine tells me I am to thank you, but I will leave
you your weyr and your warmth, and warm your ledge instead. >> Even if
prompted by his own, it's a politely earnest reply, and he sends an image
of crisp winter days, the white of them sparked whiter by a sun that's
bright and high. There's a joy and an itch for flight underlying the image,
though that's tamped down, subdued.

Javinia is well-bundled, even for this short trip, and though the sapphire
curtain holds back most of the afternoon breeze, she steps wide of where
Lysseth parts the curtain with her muzzle, a quicker grin for that quirk,
and her wingleader's chide. She pauses with a gloved hand at her scarf,
letting her eyes adjust, take in their surroundings. Her hazel gaze falls
on Kaswyn and his blocks, and she merely grins wider. "Oh, no, nothing
-dire-. But you can never tell who'll have their weyr a mess, and whose
might be spotless, and whose might be a mess but who might insist on
proving to a visitor it's no such thing."

Lysseth> Naelanth senses that Lysseth is surely no end of relieved: after
all, orange and puce mixed in with gemstone colors? *So* tacky. << As you
will; you've guest-right to stay wherever you're most comfortable, >> she
sends, evidently in a gracious state of mind. For the winter-white, though,
there's no joy; only a wistfulness that echoes with the crash of sea and
warmth of sun on sand, the sweet scent of tropical flowers, and the wriggle
of fat silver fish between one's jaws and down one's throat. All aspects of
the image are somewhat hazy however, as if it has been some time by
draconic standard since she last enjoyed these things.

"Blocks!" Kaswyn declares in his piping little-boy voice when Javinia comes
into view, waving one towards her; Kassi deftly snares it from him before
he can put out an eye. "Aye, love, she can see the blocks. Why don't you
put this one on that one, hmm? 'Twill make a grand home for your spoon." Of
course, how much of that a one-and-a-half-Turn-old could understand is up
for argument, and so it's probably not surprising that Kazy places the
block in an entirely different place. Her son thus distracted, Kassi turns
back to Javi with a grin wryer than the one before. "Doubtless this
qualifies as something of a mess, for being a hodgepodge if'n naught else,
but 'tis how I like it. Well, mostly. That basin on the other side of the
bed is less decorating choice than unfortunate necessity, but other than
that--and the blocks on the floor--you're seeing it pretty much as we live
in it." She gestures to indicate the 'we': self, son, dragon, and the swarm
of fire-lizards who occupy the scattered perches and watch the goings-on
with gemlike eyes of blue and green.

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Naelanth acknowledges the graciousness of that
gesture with the mental equivalent of a nod, a swift wash of dipping
translucent color. Ah. Images. He is one much more comfortable with image
play than with words, and he shows her a crag of land where sky and ocean
and earth meet, and where the ocean forces the spray up and through the
earth so that it spouts like children in the baths, but higher, water
catching light in a thousand prisms of laughter. Fish are caught against
the rocks and the sun pounds as warm as the sea is forceful. It's sharp and
clear -- his image -- recently seen.

That small exclamation steals Javinia's attention from the wider weyr, and
she only dimples, shaking her head. "He's so big," she whispers to Kassi,
marvelling at the boy. Without much ceremony, she plunks herself down on
the floor and picks up a block, holding it out toward Kaswyn, as if she
might help. All the while, she takes the time to look about the weyr,
quietly taking note of each thing the greenrider points out, the whole that
her gesture encompasses. "I know, in truth, that we're all supposed to be
neat and tidy, and I shouldn't say that we aren't. But I've seen the riders
sleeping under their tarps in the bowl for failing inspections in other
wings." Her gaze turns back to the walls, the tapestries, in particular,
the suncatcher. Dark brows furrow. "Jewel tones, then. But that should be
no surprise. Emeralds and sapphires for you?"

Kassima agrees in a low murmur, "And getting bigger every day. Bigger and
fatter, little wherry that he is--" But it's fond, that statement, and
clearly false, since Kazy's no more chubby than any other child of his age,
though his size does suggest he might someday be a tall adult. Beaming at
the brownrider, Kaswyn takes the block from her and attempts to balance it
atop another. 'Attempts' is the key word. Both fall, but rather than
wailing he cheerfully picks them up to try again. "You needn't fear aught
like that in Thunderbolt as long as I'm Wingleader," Kassima assures, with
just a hint of distaste. "I see those things as an invasion of privacy;
m'job is t'lead you in battle and keep you alive, nay t'dictate what your
bloody weyr looks like. So long as you fight well and drill well and
perform your duties, you can live in a sty with porcines for all I care.
Nay that I look forward t'sorting out L'cher's weyr if'n aught should ever
happen t'him, mind you--methinks the contents would terrify me." She's
probably right. "Emeralds and sapphires," the rider agrees, "and sometimes
amethyst, and onyx... most of the bedclothes and such, and the chair, I
took from home; I've had 'em forever. The quilt's the exception there. Ozy
made it for me. I did warn you m'sense of decoration is mayhaps a bit
eclectic, didn't I?"

Lysseth> Naelanth senses that Lysseth reflects upon this image for some
time, absorbing it not quite greedily, but with a definite interest; it's
not *here*, and at the moment that would be all it would take to make it
interesting to her even were it not for the beauty of the spray. In her
reflection of the image, the fish take on an iridescent sheen, more
lustrous than life; even rocks take on a haze of soft moss, disguising the
strength beneath as a velvet glove might hide a talon.

Javinia watches Kaswyn with some small delight, her own face falling when
the blocks do, but as soon as she sees the boy's good cheer, she's
mirroring his own, helping where allowed, nudging blocks closer that might
be just beyond the reach of those smaller arms. "I appreciate that --
truly. I know my other wingmates do, too. It's nice to have something
that's your own, especially after weyrlinghood. We had surprise
inspections, you know." This, more conversational than censuring. "L'cher?
Oh, feh. No, I love this -- your weyr. It looks like ... a home. Like a
life." Her grin warms, dimples coming to the fore. "Like a family lives
here. I like that. Well," with a tilt of her head as she eyes all the
knives, "except for those, maybe. But that's only a matter of ease."

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Naelanth considers this reflection with a swift
flow of approval for the changes -- luster and sheen. That moss, though. He
leaves the moss, but echoes that green higher upon the cliff that tumbles
down to jut its finger into the sea. No, not moss green. Darker. Deeper.
Lysseth's own pine, though not soot-tipped, and not upon evergreens
themselves. Those would herald colder shores. No, this pine is the
saturated verdure of jungle foliage, as lush as that added iridescence
among the waters.

Kaswyn's quite amenable to such assistance, reaching to grab blocks as they
come into view and put them together in a way that pleases him. It's not a
way that makes any particular *sense*, but that would seem to faze him not
at all. With his left hand, he picks up the battered wooden spoon that's
been laying beside him and solemnly dances it through the haphazard
structure. "We're building a home for Spoon," Kassima explains. "Sort of.
I'm glad; i'truth, that's what I think a weyr should be, your *own* space
where you can get away from work for awhile. Nay that I can't understand
inspections on some level, I suppose. As a Weyrling, 'twere living in a
space belonging to the Weyr and so 'twas a responsibility t'be neat; and
they were probably trying t'build in habits of neatness, which are a good
thing t'have. You can't be stuffing your straps under the bed or the like;
you do need t'be neat enough t'always know where things are and be able
t'get ready for Fall at a moment's notice. And your weyr shouldn't be so
slovenly as t'be promoting disease. But other than that... thankee! Some of
that's because it's been occupied for so long, y'know. And if'n you like
the family look, you should just see the nursery. Kisai and Kazy stay with
me nights, at least, as often as they do with their foster-mother, so it
looks even more lived-in than it has a'fore... what," she breaks off to
tease, "you don't like the knives, but you don't mind the giant tunnelsnake
head? There's an Emasculator and a whip on the walls too, though I don't
know if'n you can see 'em from here. Gifts, 'twere. So was most of the art,
excepting a few bits Khari's done."

Lysseth> Naelanth senses that Lysseth would be no fit sort of green did she
not approve of the color; true, such greenery might welcome Thread as
readily as sunlight, but this is no place in Telgar's range, and the
dragons of Pern are up to protecting it... so it will harm nothing if she
should drape the brim of the cliff with a few dangling, clinging, hanging
vines, lush with pine-shaded leaves and flowers of uncommonly deep purple
to compliment the silver of fish and wave-foam below.

In her late teens, Javinia is still young enough to appreciate
senselessness. A home for Spoon? "Of course. And quite the lovely home,
too." She's all approval. Laughing then, she nods, "Too true. Neat enough
will get the job done, though I prefer to have things well in order
myself." With a tilt of her head, she asks, "Truly? Kisai and Kazy stay
with you nights? That must be nice for you. You seem a fine mother --
rather involved even." The tunnelsnake head only brings a grimace, and it's
clear she's trying to be polite. "Oh, -those-." She cranes about to look
for them, though none too hard. "Yes, these are quite unique. -- Oh? Which
are Khari's?"

Kaswyn repeats, agrees, "Spoon. Spoon blocks." One of the blocks gets
whacked a few times with Spoon for good measure, creating quite the
clacking sound--and how precisely both Spoon and the blocks came to be
somewhat battered is becoming swiftly apparent. "Kazy-my-love, the violence
of your playmate sometimes worries me," says Kassi, which discourages him
not at all. "Some nights--nay all; Simaeva keeps them with her, sometimes,
or keeps one and the other stays with me, depending. She's been looking
after both of 'em for me a lot lately so I can get as much sleep as nausea
allows. Can't be helped, but sometimes I miss the little hellions." A broad
smile crosses her face then. "I don't know about fine, but I try t'be
involved, at least. I know I could never raise 'em alone; I have t'foster,
even when their fathers are involved too, but I couldn't bear t'never see
'em." Is that a snicker for Javi's grimace? Why, yes. It is. "They were
gifts, too. --Most of the sketches that don't look like a small child drew
'em; the tapestries were mostly gifts, the painting a commission, but she's
done the sketches of each of the kidlings, and a couple of Lysseth... and
limnings of their fathers, as I mentioned once, only I keep those in the
desk drawer. I've thought several times of commissioning a grand family
portrait from her, except the family keeps growing."

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Naelanth sends firelizards to flirt among the
purple-flowered vines like jewels amid a setting of pine, and the sea
echoes his own mist-like tones, watering the air, the vines, the cliffs, so
that everything is wet and growing, even beneath the intense warmth of the
sun, a warmth strong enough to soothe the most tired of wings, to ease the
oldest of joints. He cannot reflect the final touches of this image without
adding the scent and heartsound of wherries along the cliff -- rich for the
chase, satisfying beneath the snap of jaws. Newness and beauty is only
heightened by the presence of food, and the brown's enthusiasm for that is
deep as rapid's rush.

Lysseth> Naelanth senses that Lysseth fashions gleaming insects, vtols with
glittering wings and trundlebugs whose shells are too bright a gold for
life, to disappear beneath the growth and show themselves only in momentary
flickers of beauty: prey for the fire-lizards, subtle splendor in their own
right. And sand! There should be sand, off the side of those guardian
rocks, long and wide enough for dragons to bask themselves upon, such a
fine silver that when the moons of this not-world rise it will glow under
their light. For now, it's still day--for now, bits of wherry plumage can
drift upon the wind, teasing hints of living things now gone to meal and
playthings for darting 'lizards to pursue.

"Mhm. Spoon," Javinia agrees in turn, delighted with Kaswyn's enthusiasm,
even if his mother voices some reservations. The brownrider picks up two
blocks and starts clacking them together, as if to show the boy a new way
to make noise. Clack-clack. "Understandable, of course. Ys is miserable
without Levarn. He's with her family, though, which must be some
consolation, but I wonder if it might not have been better to foster him
in-Weyr." Then, looking up with her clear hazel eyes, she asks, "It's true?
I mean, I know Yash has been leading drills and exercises for a while now,
but ... " Without waiting for confirmation, she fairly beams.
"Congratulations! You and Kich both, now!" Talk of sketches is easily lost.
"You are happy, aren't you? I imagine you must be. You do seem awfully fond
of your family."

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Naelanth's waters frame the image so, swirling
about its edges. Yes, she is right: glittering insects, downy soft tufts of
plummage, and sand, a silver to compliment the green's own coloring, to set
her off among that paradise of splendor. It's an image he calls to himself,
wrapping its beauty and warmth around him where he lies on the green's
ledge, waiting, waiting for his own, so that they might be off in search of
just such a place. He tells her, << When we find this, I will tell you. >>
His confidence is not the bravado of youth, but a simple assertion of fact.

Kaswyn crows with delight at this new twist to the game, and throws up his
arms to start beating toy and Spoon together above his head: clack! Clack!
Clackity-clack! Kassi rubs momentarily at her left temple, but she's used
enough to enthusiastic child-noise and just pitches her voice louder to
converse over the sound: "There's a truth in that; she's said she'd like
t'foster any other children she should ever have with her family too, and I
can't argue that family isn't best for fostering, but 'tis just a ruddy
shame she couldn't find anyone willing t'move to the Weyr as 'Maeva did for
me. I sometimes think she's going t'pine away for that child. What, you've
heard rumors *already*?" Her surprise is more feigned than not; she answers
the beam with a wide grin of her own, with sheepish delight behind it.
"'Tis true--at least, if'n you're meaning am I pregnant, rather than am I
having a mad passionate affair with V'dan or something. Thankee! Oh,
believe that I'm happy; I didn't expect it," she confesses, casting an
affectionate glance down at her son. "Nay with him so young. I just didn't
think... but how could I nay be pleased?"

Javinia merely dimples, joining in with Kaswyn by clacking her own blocks
all the louder. Noise! Clackclackclackclack. "What?" Javinia almost has to
ask before Kassima so wisely pitches her voice higher. The brownrider
follows suit, nodding more emphatically, as if her actions might have to be
louder, too. "That -is- too bad. Have you thought of suggesting such? She'd
be much happier, I'd wager." Casting Kassi a small grin, she adds, "Feh!
V'dan. I'm not so new to the Wing as all that." Her hands stop clacking
those blocks together, her expression going thoughtful as she watches the
greenrider. When her voice comes, it's too loud for a moment, but she
coughs, quiets it. "You didn't? -- Well, some aren't. But again, I'd not
have thought you one of those. I'm glad you're pleased -- truly."

Lysseth> Naelanth senses that Lysseth spins a warm breeze through the
setting, appreciation for compliment and complement; only after does she
capture the scene's echo within crystal so that the entire image glitters
there, lives there, still in motion beneath light-silvered facets. She's
barred for now from any such search, but soon... soon.... << And I will
save its image, >> she answers, << so that I can follow you there. >>
Perhaps another time she might be more doubtful of its existence, but
possibly any place of beauty might take on such an unreal shine for her
just now: beach-loving dragon, trapped in months of snow.

"Methinks I did suggest it once, back a'fore she fostered Levarn; now 'tis
complicated, since she couldn't really take him *away* from her sister, and
her sister isn't apt t'move up here; and if'n she fosters other children
elsewhere, she'd be splitting her family," Kassima says, with a rueful
shake of her head. "I did that, and I just don't know whether I'd really
advise it, for all that there are certes families who send every child
somewhere different. Kazy-love--" She reaches to catch one of the little
boy's hands, gently, and guide them back into the quieter task of building.
His features screw up for a moment as if he's contemplating rebellion, but
it passes, and when it does Kassi lets go of his hand. "I hate t'stifle his
musical expression, but he's too young t'understand 'You're giving Mum a
headache.' Nay, I didn't. Wasn't exactly *trying* for a bairn; but then, I
never have. Just pure luck. Thankee, though. I'm glad I am too! And that
the father is--'twould have been awkward, otherwise."

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Naelanth watches the glitter of that living
image from the watery banks of his own mindscape, his thoughts mirroring it
like faceted eyes. No time now. But there are other nows. And more newness
to explore -- only three heartbeats away. For now, though, for now, he
watches, content in the shared imagery.

"True, that. To split up her family might be-- You've done that, though?"
Javinia asks, glancing up with blinking eyes. "I truly can't keep everyone
straight. You'd think I could, but ... " As her wingleader reaches over to
silence Kaswyn's block and spoon, the brownrider's cheeks color up, and she
shoves the blocks back behind her back, as if she had no part in the
instigation of music-making. "Oh, well, lucky then, I suppose, and better
that the father is pleased as well." With a slight hesitation, she wonders,
"Would it be too terribly prying to ask who the father might be?"

"There are hundreds of riders alone, here alone; you should be *expected*
t'keep us straight and remember everything about our lives?" Kassima teases
her Wingmate. "That's *my* job! For betting, y'know. I'truth, I have. Mart
asked me while 'twas carrying the twins if'n he and Kena could foster the
child--we thought there was only one--and I decided t'let them. They're
dear friends, they can't seem t'have any more of their own, and 'Maeva was
having difficulties at the time, so. They've been excellent parents to the
twins, but sometimes I think 'twas a mistake. Kim and Ky are sort of...
outside, with different parents and living in a different weyr, and even
though I've always had time with 'em the other kidlings didn't bond so
well, y'know? Thus why I don't know if I could suggest Ys should do it."
Her sigh is followed by a quick, mischievous grin at Javinia's blush.
"Don't worry, I won't hold encouraging him against you. Although you do
tempt me t'be suggesting I send him t'visit you the next time he's feeling
musical. Nay, nay, nay prying at all--I'm surprised the gossip hasn't
gotten out, really. But then I imagine he hasn't trumpeted it about, and
neither have I. 'Tis I'sai's child."

Javinia 's smirk is swift, one dimple marking an almost self-deprecating
amusement. "You needn't tease. Very unkind," she remarks with usual good
humor. "Truly? Oh, but if they couldn't have their own ... Hrm. I suppose
that -is- the problem. At least they're twins, and so they have each other,
and there's nothing to say that their life is worse or better for it. I'm
sure they're quite happy, no?" That blush turns to an honest smile. "You
could, you know. I'd hardly mind. The weyr seems awful quite sometimes, and
well, -I- can always bring him back." Here, her grin grows, until it's
replaced by a quick darkening of her brow. "-Is-?" She doesn't seem sure
what to make of this announcement. "Truly. Well. That's wonderful for the
both of you, and being your second together, much easier, I'd imagine." The
smile she finds after a moment is warm and kind. "He'll know where to get
your mint, at least, should you crave it."

Kassima blows a raspberry at her Wingmate, a gesture which Kaswyn gleefully
mimics. "I? Needn't tease? Have you nay learned, Javi, that teasing is what
I *do* in life?" More seriously, "They do have each other, which is better
than the alternative; only I wonder too if'n they haven't been *too*
tightly attached. They're growing up, finding different interests, nay
spending so much time together, and I know it bothers 'em both, Kim more
than Ky... but, well. Adolescence has issues for everyone, twin or nay.
Truly?" Her brows fly up; she's quick to say, "Then I may just take you up
on that--and send a fire-lizard or two with him, in case you need t'send me
a message about coming t'get m'hellion if'n I'm nay at home. I plan t'spend
some quality time on beaches once I can *between* again, so 'twill certes
be in the market for someone t'help keep an eye on him." When Javi's brow
darkens, the greenrider tilts her head to one side, clearly puzzled. "Is,"
she repeats. "In some ways 'tis certes easier--and he seems happy... I hope
he really is. *I'm* happy. If'n I had been choosing a father for m'next
offspring, I couldn't have chosen better; and d'you know, he *made* me a
mint stick once? Proud as punch he was of it, too. You seem surprised."

The raspberry only makes Javinia laugh, especially Kaswyn's smaller,
messier version. "I hear it's quite different for twins, and I was never so
close to my own siblings -- except for my sister, perhaps -- that I'd know.
I imagine they'll find their way." Surprised at Kassima's reaction, the
brownrider replies simply, "Truly. I said I'd not mind." She sneaks the boy
in question another block and a wink. "He seems awful well-behaved. Why
not? You might even find you'd like an afternoon to yourself later, when
you're further along. Either way." That smile again, and the earlier dark
look is gone in the face of her wingleader's pleasure. "Truly? That sounds
very kind of him. He says he can cook, and that must be the proof of it. --
Surprised? Yes. No. I don't know. Not truly, I suppose."

Kassima reaches to ruffle her son's black curls, a gesture that gets him to
bat futilely at her hand. "I never had any; only cousins, so I really don't
know at all. Sometimes I trade stories with m'relatives with twins, or many
children period, t'see how 'tis with them, but in some ways I suspect 'tis
always different just as the children are different." Pause. Wryly, "And
m'dear twins perhaps particularly so. If'n you're sure...." Kazy, of
course, has no hesitation about taking the block from Javinia. This time,
he manages to stack it atop another with nothing falling apart. Will
wonders never cease? "He's relatively well-behaved for *now*, though when
he's two? I anticipate a nightmare. Still; while he's so sweet, I won't
feel too awful for handing him off t'you now and again, so long as you cram
him only *half* full with sweets a'fore he comes home." This last is light,
jesting; her dark eyes dance. "He was a Baker a'fore he Impressed; did he
nay say? I don't really know how long a Baker, but nay surprise that he can
cook. He's always been kind all around. As ideal a father as a Weyrman can
be." Of the last, she comments, "That's curious. Now I don't know whether
to ask why or why nay."

Javinia watches mother and son with a small grin, hazel eyes somewhat
bright and almost green. She listens with an inclination of her head,
though it's Kaswyn she's applauding for when he manages block-upon-block.
"Excellent!" Then, glancing up, she nods, "I am, and only half full of
sweets. Promise," and she draws an index finger down across her heart and
back, grinning. Her expression goes more thoughtful with her wingleader's
question. "I knew that, I think." She hears the rest with a faint smile
before lifting a shoulder to admit, "In truth, I'm not sure I could explain."

Kaswyn looks rather startled by the sudden applause, his pale jade green
eyes widening; but after a moment, he grins a grin that shows off all of
his teeth. Not that there are many. Kassima laughs and finds a
cylinder-shape block to balance on top of the structure. "'Twill trust you
t'keep your word. Because if'n naught else, you're bright enough t'know
that if you brought him back t'me *completely* full of sweets, I'd set
*you* the task of getting him t'sleep that night!" Oh, horrors. She tilts
her head at this last, and comments at length, "Huh. 'Tis just interesting,
y'ken; *I* was somewhat surprised, so that someone else wouldn't be is
itself surprising. Mind you, Yashira guessed Is as the father of Kazy too,
back when. I told her I thought he'd spew klah across the table had he been
there t'hear the notion, only it seems she wasn't so wild as ahead of her
time."

Javinia's own eyes widen in mock surprise, or, perhaps, a little anxiety
that the next thing out of Kaswyn's mouth won't be that grin. But it's a
grin, and teeth! and she has to grin right back. "Oh, is -that- all. I
thought you'd set me to sweeps with L'cher or some such." The silence draws
her gaze, and she looks up at her wingleader, head cocked, round face
curious. "You were surprised? But I don't see why. The two of you had
Kisai, after all, and well... " Chuckling, she asks, "Would he be so awful?
Spewing klah? That would be almost too much of a reaction."

Kassima reaches to catch Kaswyn's arm and tug him from his seat over into
her lap; he makes a wordless sound of startlement, but soon enough snuggles
in. He can still play with the blocks from here, after all, and it's
warmer; his life is good. "Hah! Sweeps with L'cher are naught t'getting a
sweetener-filled kidlet to sleep," the greenrider intones in her most dire
tones, resting her chin lightly atop Kazy's head. "Aye, 'twas. Kisai," she
explains, "was a flight baby, as much Taralyth and Lysseth's doing as ours.
This one.... Oh, I don't think he'd be intentionally awful. But I did
imagine he'd be startled by the notion."

The brownrider's gaze returns to mother and son, a small smile playing
about the corner of her mouth, and she tucks her legs up beneath her,
drawing her arms about her, as if she were cold, though she couldn't be as
bundled as she is. "I'll have to take your word for it. I was the youngest.
I've never had to do such a thing. Well, unless you count nursery duty, but
that was so much nicer than latrines. It was hardly a chore, especially
with Levarn being there during candidacy." Her arms tighten, and she
listens with silent eyes, head inclining again ever-so-slightly. "But this
wasn't a flight baby?" she asks finally. "Was he startled this time?"

Bundled or no, Kassi still asks at the gesture, "Are you cold? I could drag
the brazier a bit closer if'n the smoke wouldn't bother you--ah, you're
fortunate in that. I hadn't, either, until I actually *had* one; I never
pulled duty in the nurseries at night. Getting bairns down just t'nap was
hard enough, mind you." Kaswyn's completely oblivious of this discussion.
He's reaching towards spoon, tiny fingers stretching as far as they can in
an attempt to nab the toy. "Nay in the same sense." Kassi not only sounds
sheepish, but colors a fraction besides. "Nay a won flight. I really don't
know whether he was startled... his reaction was hard t'read. First thing
he said was that he was glad I was healthy and took care of m'self, so
there wouldn't be worry that something would go wrong; he assured me later
he was happy."

"Oh, no, I'm fine, thanks," Javinia says, tossing off a quick grin, and she
draws her arm from about her as Kaswyn strains forward for his spoon,
nudging it toward him with a fingertip. "No?" she asks, still watching the
black-curled head. A brief little chuckle, half-suppressed, and she's
saying, "Well, if he says he's happy, I'm sure he is. I'd not worry over it."

Kazy's fingers wrap themselves around the haft of spoon, and he holds it
aloft in triumph, nearly managing to bean his mother in the head in the
process. "I love you too, dear," Kassi murmurs to the child, laughing. "And
nay, which is most of what surprised. But. I do hope that he is. I suppose
he never really *said* as much with Kisai either, 'twas just a bit more
obvious; but Is can be hard t'read sometimes, even for me."

Javinia dimples at that triumphant flourish of spoon, more so, though she
glances away, when it nearly collides with Kassima's head. "Yes, well, if
you were concerned, I'd merely ask him. It's an easy enough thing to do,"
she says with a lift of her shoulder. Her nose wrinkles slightly, and she
has to admit, "Though I don't find that that always helps either. So."
Exactly. So.

"I did ask him, at the time. That's when he said he was. I don't really
*worry* about it as such... I just hope he's nay pretending t'be when he
really isn't," Kassi explains, with a sigh, "because I'm nay sure I could
tell the difference either way. Still, there's nay logical reason he
*shouldn't* be. So." There's a wry grin for the last. "You and half the
rest of the world. But if'n he didn't confuse people, he wouldn't be I'sai."

"Oh, well then," Javinia says with another lift of her shoulder and a shake
of her head. This next has her frowning, though. "Do you really think he'd
do such a thing? Pretend?" and then she's shrugging again, more careless
now. "I can't decide if he's confusing, or horribly obvious."

Kassima is silent several beats before she finally shakes her head. "I
don't know. In most cases I might say nay, but I don't think if'n he
*wasn't* pleased he'd necessarily come out and say so; especially knowing
'twas happy about it. He might, at that, since he can be forthright when it
suits him, but... only rarely cruel. I just don't know. Fortunately, I've
at least nay doubt that he'll love the baby; he loves all his children, you
only have t'see him with them to see that." Her voice shifts from pensive
to fond as she speaks. "--Horribly *obvious*? Truly? That's one I'm nay
sure I've ever heard."

Javinia rests her gloved hands on her knees, plucking at the finger points
of the one on her right hand, and she dips her head to listen to the words
that fill this new silence. "That he'll love it is all that matters, no?"
she asks, peeking up. "I've seen him with Lanisa; she was there for my
Search, you see, and he seemed a good father. But more, you're friends, and
you know how he's been with Kisai." Catching herself, she stops meandering
on about nothing in particular. The change in tone makes her curious, and
she shrugs again, more defensive this time. "I don't know. Sometimes it
seems so to me. But then, I hardly know him, in truth."

"I should think so," Kassi slowly agrees. "If'n he were unhappy with me,
that *would* matter t'me, though less; but he doesn't seem t'be that
either. He's good with Lanisa from what I've seen. He's wonderful with
Kisai. She thoroughly adores him. Should've heard her telling T'van that
Faenth might be a good flier, but he'd not outfly Taralyth since he was the
best male anywhere." She approximates her daughter's higher, still-childish
tones in saying this, with another fond laugh. "--'Tis naught wrong, only
something curious. I've known more people who said they couldn't understand
him at all than that he was an open book t'them."

"Well then, you've few worries -- if he doesn't -seem- to be." Javinia's
smile is meant to be kind, reassuring, and she laughs at the mimicry.
"Well, of course, he is. He's her father's dragon. That makes great good
sense, I think. Silly Tel for thinking otherwise." It's all a tease,
shining there in her hazel eyes. Those eyes lift to meet her wingleader's
greener gaze, and she concedes, "Truly, I wouldn't presume to know him so
well. I only said sometimes, I do believe. Sometimes."

Kassima smiles back for it, though hers is slightly crooked--at least until
the subject turns back to Kisai. "Aye, he'll nay be convincing her of
Faenth's superiority any time soon! She likes Tear, and likes Lyss, and
both of them seem t'like her." Those green eyes become a bit wistful.
"Still, 'tis something, that you can say so even sometimes. I don't doubt
he appreciates it--mind you, I highly suspect he's perverse enough t'be
enjoying how much he confuses people when he does."

Javinia only grins, shaking her head. "Yes, well, as it should be, don't
you think?" Her gaze slips away as the conversation circles back. "Oh, you
shouldn't listen to me. I know nothing -- nothing at all," she replies
blithely, glancing back with a bit of grin. "And I've no doubt you're
right. Though I'm not sure I'd wager he appreciates it. Whatever it is that
you mean by 'it'."

"Mmm." Funny how unconvinced Kassi sounds by that blitheness. She's
content, though, to let the subject lie--for now; instead, "Depends on whom
it comes from," she suggests, thoughtful. "I don't know if'n he'd enjoy
confusing his friends so much, else he wouldn't value understanding, and I
believe he does. But persons he's not particularly fond of? I'd nay be in
the least surprised if'n he's grinning behind his hand whenever they're
frustrated with him."

Javinia begins to rise to her feet, dusting her gloved hands on her thighs,
more in readiness to depart then in real need. "He crows," she agrees, as
if that should explain it all. Then with a last look around her at the weyr
she stands in, she says, "Thanks so much for letting me see your weyr. This
is what I need -- something that speaks of home. But I think it'll take us
a good while to make ourselves something like this. It can't simply be
commissioned, you see." Her gaze returns to her wingleader, the
curly-haired boy in her lap, and her grin warms. "Congratulations, again,
Kassi. You've all my well-wishes. But I don't want to be keeping you any
longer ... "

"He does," Kassi agrees, grinning full-out. "One of his more charismatic
qualities--when you're nay the one being crowed at. If'n I took too much of
your time up going on about other things, you're welcome t'come back for
another look any time, hey? Or we could go poke through Stores t'see what
might suit you there, or something. Faranth knows I'll have free time
enough." Kazy's been gumming one of the blocks; when Kassi snags his free
hand to lift it in a wave, he blinks up towards Javi, innocently bemused
but willing to go along with this. "Thankee, Javi. Those well-wishes mean
much to me. You aren't keeping me, but Lyss told me that Naelanth has a
place he's wanting t'go find, and 'twould nay want t'strain his patience
unduly."

"Charismatic," Javinia says with a slight grin. "Is that it?" But her
dimples are there, shadowing her mouth. "I wouldn't mind some help in the
Stores -- if you've the time to give, and don't forget, I'm willing to take
Kaswyn if you find you need some rest. Truly, I don't mind." She wiggles a
couple fingers at the boy, a grin tugging at one corner of her mouth,
before she's wrapping her scarf tighter again, the weave muffling her next
words and covering some of her heightened color. "Feh. You've found us
out," she admits, glancing toward Lysseth and beyond the sapphire curtain
where her own brown waits. "I suppose I should just be grateful they were
talking. He needs to do more of that, or so I tell him. But you know how
that is ... " With a grin, she lifts a hand, "Thanks again," and ducks out
past the curtain, the green that guards it, "And you, too, Lysseth."