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

December 20, 1998.  PernMUSH.  E'vrin's POV.
--
Your location's current time: 21:49 on day 1, month 7, Turn 25, of the
Tenth Pass. It is a summer evening.
Cast:  E'vrin, Jaina, Savak, Lyndra, Lyria, Celie, Mia, Sarai, Alvar,
       Malan, Trevor, Kassima, Kelon.

Visitors from Telgar Weyr interrupt idle talk about matchmaking;
E'vrin meets the fabled Trevor and then discusses baby names and a
few deals with Kassima alone.
=======================================================================
Igen Weyr Living Cavern(#600RJMQ)
Igen's living cavern is an immense hollow in the volcanic caldera,
stretching up two stories, the light of the glows and the hearth
reflected in the quartz which peppers the swirled sandstone unique to
this region. One hundred feet wide and one hundred and fifty feet
long, the room could, and, as the social center of the weyr, often
does, seat the entire weyr. Tapestries adorn the walls, depicting
scenes from Pern's past. The head table sits upon a raised platform at
the far eastern side of the room, in front of a huge fireplace which
is continually burning.
A wide balcony overlooks the cavern, and large tunnels lead west out
to the bowl, and south to the kitchens. A smaller tunnel leads off to
the east, beyond which lay the inner caverns of the Weyr. A small
doorway in the northern wall opens to the infirmary, and a quiet door
to the northeast opens into the Records Room. In the corner one may
+view a plaque.
Contents:
Savak
Sarai
Mia
Celie
Lyndra
Jaina
Lyria
Meal Table
--

Jaina mutters to Mia, "Did it..."

Savak rubs his eyes and then stands up, moving to the meal table.

Lyndra supplies from where she is sitting, "Love has odd paths, you
know, and it's possible to love more than one person, so matchmaking's
a strange task."

Lyria says with a laugh, although it's a hollow one, "Oh, I see."

Mia mutters to Jaina,
"... top... Aisheth,... bowl... filled... people,... we'll... for..."

Celie blinks, having become lost in her thoughts, and dinner, for a
moment. "We can't, really. Those old aunties tend to ignore anyone who
isn't at least as old as they are."

Jaina wins at Mia and nods "That is wonderful"

'Matchmaking.' That lone word, picked out in the surf of conversation,
is enough to make E'vrin's strides pause, but he recovers and
continues on, angling at Lyndra curiously.

Jaina winks

Sarai makes a face and grins at Lyria, "Well I'm almost Lyria's
age. Do you suppose if I ... ah well. Never mind."

Mia grins and shrugs while looking down at her hands clasped.

Celie nearly chokes. "Ah...Lyria is a bit young to be classified as an
auntie, Sarai."

Lyndra smiles bashfully at the bronzerider and murmurs, "Good evening,
E'vrin."

Jaina smiles and softly says to Mia "I'm anxious too."

Lyria tilts her head, looking at Mia and Jaina. Then at the sound of
her name she looks back at the weyrwoman and Celie. After a pause she
echoes Lyndra, "Evening, E'vrin."

E'vrin takes a look at Lyria, perhaps to judge for himself, then drops
into a seat within conversation reach of Lyndra. "Evening," he replies
nicely. "How're you and Thalan and Arthan?" In that order.

Sarai says "She's a matchmaker, not an Aunt I know that."

Savak picks up some meatrolls and moves back to a different chair,
nibbling on them as he watches around the cavern.

Alvar ambles out from the inner caverns.

E'vrin adds, still being nice, "Good evening to you, too,
Headwoman. Celie, Sarai, Mia, Jaina, Savak -- is that everyone? And
Journeyman Alvar."

Alvar wanders in and towards the klah pot, calling out, "Evening!" to
those he knows.

Jaina says "Hi E'vrin, Hello Alvar"

Lyria waves to Alvar and grins a bit ruefully, "Retired matchmaker, I
think."

E'vrin contributes, "Telgar has matchmakers. At least two I know of,
anyway. Who are ours?"

[Don't think that was answered directly.  I moved on.  Busy LC!]

Sarai tsks at Lyria, "Well a good looking matchmaker, retired or
otherwisee."

Mia turns to look at her friend with puzzled eyes. She asks quietly,
"You shouldn't be, but I understand."

Celie chuckles. "Too many failures or too many successes, Lyria?"

With a glance at Lyria, Lyndra answers E'vrin patiently, "We're very
well, thank you, though sleep's an evasive thing. How is Kassima?
Er...how are you?"

Savak shuffles his chair back a bit, trying to keep some out of view.

Lyria grins at Sarai, and then says, "I think a combination,
Celie. Not all of the information is back yet about all the pairs."

Jaina smiles and sighs "I have been looking forward to him all day"

Sarai says "How did you decide who to throw at... who anyways?"

E'vrin's voice drops out of public domain to answer his seating
companion. "Kassima was fine last I saw her -- speaking of matchmakers
-- and I'm fine, too, thanks, Lyndra. Are you out of the infirmary for
good?"

Mia waves to Alvar and E'vrin. She gives Jaina a quick hug and says,
"He's probably working on a project somewhere."

Celie ohs, lips pursing. "I've often found matchmaking to be a
dubiously rewarding hobby, myself."

Alvar plops into a seat near the others, "Matchmaking can be hazardous
to your health...'

Lyndra coughs and keeps her attention vigorously on the meatroll she
is chewing rather than on the bronzerider, noting mildly, "Well, for
now, I hope, thank you."

Jaina nods and smiles

Since it isn't the bronze rider she's chewing on, that's perfectly
fine with E'vrin, who leans back against the wall comfortably. "You're
welcome. What's this little talk about?"

Sarai grins at Celie, "I'd rather learn to knit."

Lyria considers and then answers Sarai, "Mostly a question of -
compatibility of rank, style... shared interests... attraction."

Lyndra's nutmeg brown eyes raise and study the rider through her veil
of auburn lashes as she murmurs, "I beg your pardon?"

Savak finishes off one meatrolls, working onto the next one as his
gaze concentrates on it.

Lyria clears her throat, "Shared history."

E'vrin lifts his chin out to indicate Lyria, Celie, Sarai, and so
on. "Is it a conversation I want to join?" he asks the assistant
headwoman quietly, serious now. "Or should I stay hiding back by this
wall?"

Sarai eyes Lyria, "What happens if they have... really different
ranks? Like a master and a farmer?"

Lyria puts her chin on her fist and then says, "Well, a matchmaker
wouldn't put them together, I wouldn't think. Which doesn't
necessarily mean anything."

Celie rubs her forehead a bit, answering E'vrin. "Depends on if you
enjoy being matched..."

Lyndra's answer is angled toward the subtle, intended for E'vrin's
ears alone. "It began with a discussion about Thalan and Celaine being
matched and has since been more generalized..."

Savak ducks his head down.

Sarai grins at Lyria, "See now... Rank's a problem like that... I
thikn I scare some people with Cyrath..."

Mia glances at the meal table and considers a few dishes
there. Instead, she leans back and listens to the older women.

Lyria smiles ruefully, "That's enough to scare certain people,
certainly."

E'vrin considers it and, by extension, the Weyrsecond. "I wouldn't
think so, no -- no offense intended, Lyria -- since I'm happy where I
am." His tone drops down for Lyndra's ears again. "'Generalized'?
Well, that sounds promising for conversation. I think I'll sit and
soak."

Sarai shakes her head, "Can't see why, I mean, all she ever did was
try and make Lyrnda's da wet his pants, and NO ONE can say he didn't
deserve that..."

Celie snorts, nearly inhaling her juice at Sarai's comment.

Savak picks up his meatrolls and inches to a table farther from the
rest of the crowd.

With a disquieted glance at Savak, Lyndra regains her feet and
murmurs, "I'm going to see if he'll sleep now. I'll be back shortly,
one way or the other."  [RL]

Lyria picks up her tea, "I'm sure you are, E'vrin," she says
lightly. "Next to Lyndra is always a good place."

Lyndra does, however, darned near smack into the wall on her way out.

Sarai looks at Celie, "What? He did and you know it!"

Savak quickly turns from Lyndra's glance to move to a different table
again.

E'vrin sports a beatific smile. "I do try, Headwoman; you know
that. --Lyndra?" He doesn't pursue, though, not even verbally, but
keeps an eye trained her way until she's out of sight.

Lyndra strides through the passageway into the Inner Caverns.

Celie coughs, using her napkin to wipe her mouth and giving Sarai a
look. "I'm well aware of what he did, Sarai. It the prospect of having
to change that man's diaper that made my skin crawl, however."

Out of the corner of her eye, the girl Mia watches Savak and his table
dance.

Sarai makes a face, "Uck. I'd toss him in the lake if I have my
druthers..."

Lyria smiles, "Trying is one of your most obvious qualities."

"And sometimes I even succeed." E'vrin isn't leaning quite so
comfortably against the wall now.

Lyria looks over to Sarai and chuckles, "Now there's an
image... Sarai, drenched by the spray that man would send up."

Celie shudders. "I almost had Urieth belch on him. I'm sure he would
have found the experience...educational."

Lyria says without really looking back at the bronzerider, "I'm sure
you often do, E'vrin."

Mia's eyes looked pained as she visualized Celie's statement.

Savak slumps his shoulders down and starts into his meatrolls again,
trying his desperate best to stay out of sight.

Sarai grins at Lyria, "I can think of otehr ways to get wet that are
MUCh more fun."

E'vrin accepts that statement on its face and fades back, trying for
comfort again.

Lyria laughs, "So can I."

Savak turns somewhat to try and keep Mia's gaze off of him, hunching
down more into his chair as his chewing slows.

Sarai grins at Lyria's reply and leans back, "having Urieth belch on
anyone is a fate worse than death..."

Celie rolls her eyes. "It's the firestone. Not to mention her diet."

Lyria stands, taking up her mug, with an airy, "I think I'll get some
more tea." On the way past Sarai she gives the goldrider a kiss on the
lips and then says, "It's true, being thrown around by you is not
punishment."

Mia tilts her head as Savak turns away, curious her eyes follow him
though she keeps an ear on the conversation at hand.

Savak gathers up the meatrolls again and heads into the inner caverns.
Savak strides through the passageway into the Inner Caverns.

Celie blinks at Lyria, watching her go. "Uh..."

Sarai grins and is about to reply to Celie when she gets
kissed. Blinking a few times and looking faintly flustered, Sarai
grins. It's a really goofy grin. "I'll hold you to that, Lyria..."
Then to Celie, "Um... what did you say?" She lost track.

E'vrin supplies helpfully, "I heard 'firestone' and 'diet,' Sarai."

Mia sits up and blushes as the boys leaves. Her are pensive for moment
before turning to give the ladies her full attention.

[I paged Mia to ask, teasingly, if Ev is included in 'ladies.'  Hee.]

Celie shakes her head, rolling her eyes slightly. "Never mind. It
wasn't that important."

Lyria fills her mug with tea from the pot with a smile on her
face. Possibly a hint of triumph, which could be confirmed with the
smooth motion with which she retakes her seat.

Malan ambles out from the inner caverns.
Malan heads straight for the food table and fills a plate.

Sarai ohs at E'vrin, "Right! Thanks! So Celie, does that mean Cyrath's
breath is better? No 'stone..."

Celie shakes her head. "No...she still eats the same things Urieth
does. Only more of it."

E'vrin lives to serve, he does. He's keeping idle track of the
conversation.

Jaina smiles at Mia.

Malan turns with his full plate sits by Jaina, "Evening, everyone."

Dragon> Sharath senses that Lysseth announces cheerily, in flashes of
jeweled light, << Good evening! My rider visits, bringing a rabid
madman with her. >>

Mia smiles at Jaina before saying, "Evening Malan."

Jaina slides over a little closer to Mia and says "Good evening, Malan"

Sharath> Lysseth senses that Sharath's interest is immediately piqued,
not to mention whetted with the touch of mind on mind, jewel against
crystal. << I've told him. A madman? For him or for me? >>

Saraigrins at Celie, "But no stone, That would help some... Maybe I'll
get her to eat Garlic. It makes your breath better if you swallow a
little bit."

Malan says "Hi Jaina."
Malan says "Hi Mia."

Lyria smiles at Malan, "Evening, Malan."

Celie frowns, eyebrows knitting together. "How?"

E'vrin murmurs a "g'evening" to Malan, too, though his eyes keep
flicking towards the bowl, a trifle worried.

Sarai shrugs at Celie, "I dunno. My Uncle says it works tho. I'll have
to try it one day."

Celie grins slightly. "Remind me never to kiss your uncle."

Malan grins, "Evening, Lyria."

Dragon> Sharath senses that Lysseth admits, << I'm not certain whom
he's supposed to be a gift for. I believe Kassima is trying to get him
out of Telgar. This seemed an ideal opportunity. >> A pause, and then,
<< Kassima does warn your rider to fear, however. >>

Celie waves to Malan.

Lyria pouts and then says playfully, "Are you really trying to stop
getting kisses, Sarai?"

Malan looks across the Cavern, "Hi Sarai."

Sarai looks at Lyria and then Celie, "My Aunt'd fight you for him,
Celie." And she leans towards Lyria, "Well I wouldn't test it on
/you/.... Hi Malan."

Sharath> Lysseth senses that Sharath obediently darkens his sending
with a reflection of his grave purpose. << He has been so
warned. Thank you. Are you going to the living cavern, he wants to
know? There is idle talk there, but a madman might be safe. >>

Jaina finishes her drink.

Lyria laughs, "Well, I'm /very/ relieved." She casts a bit of a glance
in E'vrin's direction at that.

Celie just shakes her head. "Tell her not to worry."

E'vrin smiles. Immediately. Hi, Lyria.

Trevor comes in from the Bowl.

Dragon> Sharath senses that Lysseth notes reasonably, green and blue
motes spiralling around a strand of quicksilver webbing, << If that is
where your rider is, then that is where she is going, though I will
not. >>

Sharath> I bespoke Lysseth with << ...Ah. The madman. I can feel him
from here. How odd. --Yes, he is in there. Kassima is most welcome. >>

Sarai grins at Lyria and leans back, "I won't mention it to her,
Celie. Aunt Malinda's... poseesive."

Malan polishes his plate clean and leans back contentedly.

Celie nods. "I'd guess so."

Kassima comes in from the Bowl.

E'vrin stays leaning against the wall, watching, watching,
waiting. --Ah! He scrambles to his feet.

Trevor explodes into the Living Cavern on a tide of nervous, buoyant
energy and focused ambition. Namely, E'vrin. "So I just came in from
Telgar Weyr -- hey, folks -- and there's this /gorgeous/ chick flying
me named Kassima. So she's out in the bowl, all depressed and needing
a shoulder to cry on. Any volunteers?"

Lyndra ambles out from the inner caverns.

"She's a great kisser," Trevor lauds as a purely gratuitous editorial,
before: "--And here she is, ladies and gentlemen. The one, the
only. --See? Told you people like you, Kassima."

Before calling duties, before doing anything else, Kassima takes a
moment to point towards Trevor and mouth, 'Madman. Fear,' to the
Cavern at large. Warning given, she's free to proceed with
formalities: "Duties to Igen Weyr and her queens, and g'devening. Is
E'vrin about? Please pay nay heed t'what the escaped lunatic says."

Malan smiles at a movement, "Hello Lyndra."

Celie sighs, leaning back into her chair. She raises an eyebrow at the
newcomer. "A gorgeous what?"

Lyria's back being to the Bowl, she looks at E'vrin quizzically, and
then turns at Trevor's words. Which, being a request she does not want
to fulfil, she fails to answer.

Mia blinks a few times and the sleeping firelizard in her lap stirs.

Lyndra returns with her bundle still in hand and settles in her former
place, eyes downcast.

Sarai loks at Celie, "He knows you?":

E'vrin is on his feet near a wall, but ... maybe that's not the best
defensive position. After a quick look flicked past at Kassima, he
regards her passenger. "You must be Trevor." (Help?)

Kelon comes in from the Bowl.
Kelon strides through the passageway into the Inner Caverns.

Celie smirks, shaking her head as she pushes herself up in her
seat. "Hardly. I haven't been to Telgar in awhile." She nods to the
greenrider. "Igen's duties. E'vrin is over there." She points, trying
to be helpful.

Kelon ambles out from the inner caverns.

Trevor twists, limber, to poke his face into Kassima's and leer. "You
love it. --So hey, folks," he adds to the room at large, all cheerful
amiability and interest: rather like an exuberant labrador, if
somewhat less hairy. "What's up? Mind if I take a seat here?"

Lyria stands and says politely, "Igen's duties to Telgar and her
queens."

Kelon walks in, scanning the room nervously.

Malan glances toward the loud newcomers, then returns his attention to
the people around him.

Sarai shakes her head, amused, "I'm gonna just sit here and hide with
you, Celie."

Lyndra echoes the sentiment from Lyria and then falls silent after, of
course, returning Malan's greeting.

Kassima obediantly threads her way through the throng, with murmured
greetings and apologies, until she reaches E'vrin. "Sorry," comes the
mutter. "He's... unique. Escape may be wise."

Jaina says "How was your day, Malan?"

Malan says "It went well. I got a lot done."

Celie chuckles. "You can't hide - you're a goldrider. Go find your
whip."

Malan grins, "At least after I got started."

Lyria says to Trevor dryly, "As long as you leave it when you leave."

E'vrin mutters back, "Well, I /have/ heard the stories." He attempts
to bring the Telgar green rider around to his side, out of Trevor's
way. How cozy this is.

Jaina laughs "Were you delayed?"

Kelon clears his throat, "Umm. Are there any riders here with business
at Telgar who'd carry a note for me?"

Sarai looks at Celie, "I don't have a whip."

Too late. "E'vrin? That you?" Trevor arrives at the bronzerider's
elbow to claim his hand and pump it with boyish energy. "Hey. Heard a
lot about you, sport. Kassima never stops talking. Is it true that you
went all the way to Southern to get her kiwis? Damn." The close-shaven
head shakes in admiration. "That's some devotion."

E'vrin says faintly, once he's extricated his hand from the visitor's
paw, "Well, she /likes/ kiwis."

Malan chuckles, "Well, you could say that."

Kelon blushes a little, scrunching the note in his hand.

Lyndra relinquishes a sigh and, no sooner did she get to the living
cavern and get settled does she carry her bundle away again as it
happily squalls for everyone's enjoyment.
Lyndra strides through the passageway into the Inner Caverns.

Jaina grins "It wasn't my fault was it?"

Celie smiles, still paying most of her attention to the 'show'. "You
need to ask Katany for your whip, dear. You're missing a key element
in your...accoutrements."

Malan grins, "Well, I share the blame."

Jaina ahhs

"Like I said," Trevor says cheerfully, herding his charges towards the
bowl. "That's some kind of devotion. I bet it takes one lover in a
million to show that kind of consideration to the object of his
affections. Don't you think, Kassima? --Say, maybe I can meet that
dragon of yours, sport?"

Kassima peers over to the person calling for Telgarians. "Over here,"
she offers, before smiling wryly at E'vrin. "Quite right. I
do. Especially with ketchup. I hope you don't mind my visiting...?"

Sarai blinks and shakes her head,"I know what I need it for. Someone
told me about it when I was a weyrling... i thought she was supposed
to give it to me when I got tapped... or whatever you call it for
goldriders."

Kelon threads his way through the crowd toward Kassima. "I'm
Kelon. Igen Hold duties."

Celie nods. "You'll need it soon enough. Not for a lot like this. They
can be handled without resorting to violence."

"Never," E'vrin tells Kassima more emphatically. He's willing to be
herded, apparently, but only if /she/ comes with. Well, he'll leave
her to Kelon, and answer Trevor. "My dragon? He's on our ledge; I
don't know if he's willing to come down, just for--"

Kassima awards Trevor only a look of vague horror, but is content
enough to be herded. Public humiliation is never a goodness. "Fleeing
really might be a good idea. Duties, Kelon; I'm Kassima, green
Lysseth's rider of Telgar affiliation. Just tell me whom the note's
for, and 'twill deliver."

"Lysseth," Trevor points out, innocently, "is out there somewhere. I
bet she could use the company. After all, you should all be buddy
buddy, shouldn't you? I mean, the riders getting so close and
everything. Hey, ever thought of some quiet dinner somewhere? Maybe
down in Southern, where it's warm? Just you and a close friend,
food..."

A flush spreads over Kelon's cheeks, and he presses the crumpled note
into Kassima's hand. "For, um, Schmitt. Do you know her?"

Kelon dropped Note: to Schmitt of Telgar.

"....Candles, no witnesses...? -- Hey, Schmitt. I know her." Trevor is
instantly diverted and peers over Kassima's shoulder at Kelon, eyes
bright and inquisitive. And, for that matter, speculative. "We're good
friends. Trevor. And you are--?"

Kassima smiles brightly at Keron, all the moreso because he's
distracting her from Trevor's litany. "I certes do, and 'twill see
that it gets to her if'n you like."

Celie closes her eyes briefly and shakes her head. "Following this
conversation is like trying to follow a drunk wherry," she mutters.

Note: to Schmitt of Telgar has left.

Kelon's still red as a beet. Geez. "Thanks," he stammers.

Malan grins at Celie, "At least a drunk wherry is explainable."

E'vrin knows enough to keep his mouth shut and his eyes open. He
follows along -- safest course, even with a calliope such as this
leading the way.

Lyria picks up her tea, "You know," she says thoughtfully, " I think
this is a nice evening to - take a walk along the beach."

Celie nods to Malan. "That's true enough. Maybe I've just spent too
many days in the sun."

Malan chuckles, "No, I don't think the problem is on your end."

A decidedly thoughtful expression graces Trevor's earthy face; torn
between the unknown quantity and Kassima-and-E'vrin, he darts quick
glances back and forth between Kelon and the nurtured couple before
making a decision. First things first. "So. You ride a ... blue, is
it, E'vrin?"

Trevor walks out to the Bowl.

You walk out into the Bowl.
--
Field outside the Main Entrance
Contents:
Trevor
Urieth
Linneth
Nemanth(#11667JMas)
Healers' Herb Garden
--

Kassima walks out from the Weyr's Living Cavern.

E'vrin mutters something under his breath, then pushes it
out. "--Well. Sorry about the reception; I think they were a little
confused, that's all. And Sharath is bronze, Trevor. For what it's
worth. Shall we walk on a little?"

"Can't blame 'em," Kassi mutters, giving E'vrin an apologetic
look. "Walking on sounds like a plan to me, aye."

"Whew." Trevor takes a breath, expands his chest, then shakes his head
in a quick, dog-spraying-water fashion. "Talk about a crowd. --I'll
wager Telgar's more your scene, E'vrin. Sure. Hey, maybe you have some
sort of private place you want to show us? Sort of like a haven,
someplace scenic, private, romantic, private?"

You say "'Private,' anyway. Along here..."

You walk over towards the center of the bowl.
--
Center of the Igen Weyr Bowl(#802RJe)
You are standing in the middle of the Igen Weyr Bowl. The views are
certainly spectacular. The dark volcanic peaks of the caldera which
houses the Weyr rise up all around, weather beaten yet still firm,
except at the northeasternmost section of the bowl, where the sheer
cliffs that surround you break, leaving a jagged and imposing pass. At
different times of the day these peaks cast long shadows across the
bowl. Light glints off the lake to the northwest, and the heat makes
the air around you seem to shimmer as you gaze over the flat ground.
The lake lies to the northwest, and to the northeast you can see a
large training field, and beyond it, the Hatching Grounds and the
weyrling barracks. Southeastwards lies the main entrance to the inner
sections of the Weyr. A grazing ground lies to the southwest.
Contents:
Lysseth
--

Kassima walks over from the field to the southeast.
Trevor walks over from the field to the southeast.

"Lysseth," Trevor enthuses, as overjoyed as though meeting a beloved
old friend for the very first time. "Hey there, girl. Don't suppose
you eat people, do you? There's a whole cavern back that-a-way--"

Lysseth shakes her head in what might be disgust, might be amusement,
might be denial. "She says she doesn't, if'n it needed saying,"
Kassima obediantly reports. "And that even if'n she did, people taste
horrid without steak sauce. I'm just nay going t'ask. Anyway. E'vrin,
this is Trevor. I told you about him. Trevor, E'vrin. Can I just fear
now?"

"Well met," E'vrin says politely. "What's to fear, Kassi--Kassima?"

"He's a *looney*," Kassi explains, dead earnest. "A fearsome looney,
at that. You'll see. Which is what I'm afraid of."

Trevor grins, a plastic expression that splits the lower half of his
face from ear to ear without making singular impact on the soft brown
eyes above. "No fears. No worry. Hey, little dance and song, get it?
No worrries," he lilts in a pleasant baritone, gyrating in a toy
frolic of pelvis and thighs. "No -- so. Pleased to make your
acquaintance, buddy. You have the hots for our Kassima, do you?"

Kassima covers her eyes with one hand and whimpers. Quietly.

E'vrin maintains his ground before this -- display, give him that
much. "I see," he say to Kassima, not without some sympathy, before
tackling, verbally, the madman himself. "I'm not sure what business it
is of yours, sir. Are you a relative of hers?"

"Concerned admirer and lovemonger. So. What're your intentions,
exactly?" Trevor demands, dropping the amiability to plaster stern
fatherhood in its stead. Malleable with his moods, he folds his arms,
expands his chest, and thrusts that blunt-featured face into E'vrin,
demanding. "What're your means and expectations? What's your
background? Despoiled maidens, rape, pillage, carnage, any of that
stuff?"

E'vrin rolls white-rimmed eyes at Kassima and back. "I..."

"I *told* you," Kassi mutters, edging closer to the
bronzerider. United or divided, there's still no way to withstand the
onslaught, but at least it's harder to look singularly stupid in
pairs. "He has, for some reason I *still* don't understand, developed
a most peculiar interest in you and me. Don't ask me where the rape,
pillage, and carnage come in."

Soft brown eyes narrow, wild with merriment behind the stern
visage. "Aha. Hesitation. Trying to come up with a good story? Is that
it? Well let me tell you, bub," Trevor announces, jabbing a finger at
E'vrin. "We at Telgar don't take kindly to libertines and depraved
lunatics despoiling our women, leaving them pregnant, and then dashing
off at a moment's warning to give kiwis to some other round-breasted,
wide-thighed hussy in skirts. Got that?"

Dragon> Sharath senses that Lysseth observes with an incongruous
brightness, << How interesting. I believe this solves the puzzle of
whether humans can truly drop dead from embarrassment. My rider would
be doing so if it were possible. >>

[Missed that in spam.  Mea culpa!]

"I ... yes. I got that." Wait. Why is /E'vrin/ on the defensive? Some
intransigence beetles his brow. "I assure you, Trevor, that my
intentions towards Kassima are entire above-board and beyond
reproach. If you're a rival ... well, that's something else again."

Kassima's whimpering is considerably more pronounced this
time. "*Trevor*," she hisses, in a vain but valiant attempt to
moderate the horror.

Alarmingly, Trevor suddenly pauses to look speculative. "That's an
idea. Hey, that'd work. Think having a rival would make you more
determined to get her? -- You're morally obligated now," he adds,
tangentially. "You'll have to weyrmate with her now."

E'vrin squeezes Kassima's arm, support and reassurance, and lowers
more frown at Trevor. "I /heard/ you were a matchmaker...."

"I'm not a matchmaker," Trevor explains, losing the severity to
collapse into amiable, grandiose, expansive mediums again. "Think of
me as ... a nurturer of the inevitable. A catalyst for destiny. The
embodiment of love, in all its forms. Be happy, my children." He
regards the pair with benevolent, fatherly affection. "Go forth and
multiply."

E'vrin automatically glances at Kassima's belly.

"'All right,' I said. 'I'll take him to Igen,' I said. Did I listen to
the little voice in m'head that told me I'd regret it? Naaaaay...."
Kassi ceases her litany to cast E'vrin a profoundly grateful look,
resting a hand on his shoulder to provide the same--though whether for
him or herself is hard to say. "We're taking care of the multiplying
part," she quips, droll.

"Get on with it already," lectures Trevor, dipping lightly into
Lysseth's shadow. You put your right foot in, you put your right foot
out-- "Here's an idea. Blow this place. Go out on your own to Southern
or something; sit down, have a quiet meal, burn some candles, talk,
make merry, pretend to get drunk, make out--"

Lysseth elects to be helpful, for once, following the hokey-pokeyish
directions with her right foreclaw. Clever dragon. Kassi rolls her
eyes at this, and murmurs to E'vrin, "Be glad he hasn't brought up the
subject of mirrors yet."

"No mirrors for you two until you move in together," baritone barks
from behind the dragon. Trevor's head pops around Lysseth's forearm to
beetle a frown at E'vrin and Kassima: Trevor-the-Prude. "That's
disgusting." You put your left arm in--

E'vrin apparently gives up on trying to keep up. "What's disgusting?"
he asks to keep the conversation going.

"Mirrors," Trevor says with apparent disgust. He trots out of
Lysseth's haven to reexamine Kassima, fussy. To E'vrin: "That's all
she ever thinks about, and her pregnant, no less."

Kassima gestures helplessly to the incredible dancing loon. "Ask
*him*. He's the one with weird ideas about what they're used
for. Look, E'vrin, I'm sorry; 'twas honestly just intending t'come and
chat over names and such...." A helpless shrug. She doesn't want to
take responsibility for this Trevorish Inquisition, apparently.

Trevor adds, amiably, "--And I'm Trevor, no less. Hey there. So...is
your dragon coming down? I brought Kassima, see, because I was curious
to meet her sweetheart."

"I understand," E'vrin murmurs back, soft. "He's rather -- amusing, I
guess. What does he do at Telgar, exactly, for a living? --Well,
you've met me, Trevor. You really want to meet Sharath, too?"

"I mean, that's sort of custom, isn't it?" Trevor asks, anxiously. He
tugs at the collar of his tunic, jerking it out of line. "Sort of a
'father of the bride meets father of the groom'? Or don't you folks do
that at the Weyrs?"

You say "But Sharath didn't father anything."

Trevor peers owlishly at E'vrin. "Well. /You/."

You say "Me?"

Trevor points out, "You ride him, don't you? There you go, then." He
plants his feet firmly into the ground and plays Colossus, immovable.

E'vrin searches for a rebuttal and obviously fails. Well, he can play
along, and realy, no one's getting hurt....

[Pulled the Sharath puppet out of his pocket.]

"Naught," is Kassi's quiet reply. "He mostly frightens the local
populace. Me included." She immediately makes her own protest against
Trevor's words: "You aren't m'father." The 'Thank Faranth' is left
unspoken.

Sharath drops lightly (as much as he can) out of the night and turns
bright blue eyes towards the little group.

Trevor inspects the arriving bronze with great interest, then squints,
leans back a little, and compares points between Sharath and
Lysseth. "Not bad," he congratulates at last, beautific. "--Hey
there."

Lysseth warbles a greeting to Sharath that rings with amusement's
resonance, her eyes spinning with tanzanite-touched sapphire.

Sharath whiffs fondly along Lysseth's poll and then lowers his head
down to Trevor's level, big, big eye dead on with the man's head.

E'vrin offers, "He says hello, more or less, and thank you for the
compliment." Some relief is relaxing him: maybe having a big dragon
around helps.

"Damn," Trevor ejaculates, impressed. "Imagine the eyedrop squeezer
you'd need."

Sharath> Trevor senses that Sharath's touch is amused, chiming
crystal. << I know who you are. You're fooling the humans, but you
can't fool me. >>

Trevor blinks a little, then squints at the bronze. A forefinger
touches lips in quick, canny, private caution. "Shhhh." It's a
secret. Trevor grins.

Sharath> Trevor senses that Sharath spills a tinkling laugh through
and through the interface, then obediently withdraws.

E'vrin frowns. At Sharath. "Is he...?"

"Big," Trevor supplies, helpful. He dodges around Sharath's eye to
peer up at E'vrin. "Bronze. Masculine? Intelligent?"

And Lysseth isn't big? All right, so she's no bronze, but
still.... Curving her neck to nuzzle at bronze ridges, she curls her
tail around herself and draws back to watch the ensuing
spectacle. "D'you think we should escape while we can," Kassi wonders
of E'vrin, "or would that be too impolite?"

"I'll watch the dragons," Trevor interjects with a blithe unconcern
for the privacy of conversations. "You two children can go off and be
alone together. We'll be just fine without you. Shoo."

E'vrin has to know, however he's straining to go, "Watch the dragons
do what?"

Trevor blinks at E'vrin, soft, brown eyes drawn puzzled and
blank. "Breathe, of course. What, you were thinking maybe they'd do
some sums and levitate bricks?"

Sharath blinks innocuously. He might.

Trevor once more hastily plants forefinger in front of pursed lips and
ducks back towards Sharath. "/Shhhhhhhh/."

Lysseth waggles a wingtip, and then proceeds to scratch out in the
sand, with careful deliberation and--it must be assumed--help from
Kassima, '2 + 2 = 4.' "Never underestimate the contrariness of
dragons," Kassi quotes. "Nay that she has any idea what that *means*,
a'course."

E'vrin supposes, "She just embodies it?"

[Contrariness, that is.  I was still being spammed, trying to keep up.]

Trevor dives under dragon appendages to crouch down beside the
sums. "That's wrong, you know," he lectures. "Around here, they
usually have twins. So proportionately, with percentages being what
they are, it should probably average out to '2 + 2 =..'" One broad
hand flushes the sum clean, then replaces it with the number seven.

E'vrin mutters, catching Kassima's hand, "Maybe we should duck out
now, while they're busy--"

Sharath lumbers over to crane his head behind Trevor, watching with
all appearances of fascination, however condescending and amused.

Lysseth gives first the ground in front of her and then her rider a
quizzical look. "Don't worry about it, Lyss," Kassima assures her
dragon. "He's just mad. And aye, she does, and aye--" A smile,
there. "That sounds like an excellent plan."

Trevor lectures the two dragons with every appearance of enjoyment,
giving them a crash course -- will they or nil they -- in the fine art
of Pernese reproductive sums. "...Unless you're at, say, High Reaches,
and then they have /triplets/--"

[Player had to go, but the char kept going and going....]

E'vrin leads his lady a little away from the sound of lecturing, then
sighs and lets go of her hand. "Well, he /is/ interesting, in a
maniacal sort of way."

Kassima folds her arms and gives an amused snort. "That's a mild way
t'be putting it. You should hear some of the things he says back at
Telgar. Wish I understood why he keeps calling me a baby
chicken. 'Tany rate... I *am* sorry; didn't know he'd go ballistic in
quite that fashion."

"My fellow Igenites," E'vrin says with deep, twisted irony, "seemed to
have taken to him vociferously, too. Well, no matter. /You/ came,
too. I'm glad."

Kassima chuckles wryly. "At least none of them dumped living shellfish
down his pants. Though I hear he *liked* that. Why shouldn't I? I
figured 'twas my turn." Another wry grin, though this one also
fond. "Equal opportunity visiting. A friend of mine gave birth this
morn, y'see, and that reminded me that we haven't much discussed names
or aught." As an afterthought, "His is Ivrihn. But methinks his
nickname of 'Kilt' sounds better."

"'Ivrihn'? Sounds like my name, slurred a bit." E'vrin captures a low
hunk of sandstone nestled in the bowl's earth and folds himself onto
it, leaving room for her if she wishes it. "Do I know this friend?"

Kassima does indeed wish it, though she can't manage to sit nearly as
gracefully, the halfway point of pregnancy having taken its
toll. "Lirra," she clarifies, "and R'ehn, another friend and pawn of
mine. He's *adorable*--Kilt, that is, nay R'ehn. 'Twas there for the
birth, though I mercifully missed most of the blood, gore, and
screaming."

E'vrin makes a small noise. "Pardon me while I indulge in gratitude
that I'm not a woman."

Kassima gives his nearest rib a light elbow-nudge. "Heartless!" she
accuses, but her lack of seriousness is plain until her next
words. "'Tis worth it, anyway. All of it. And I daresay she'd agree."

"'Kilt,'" E'vrin muses then, after hooking his chin briefly over her
shoulder in a return nudge. He toes out a wide circle in the ground
below their perch, watches the arc grow. "I'll ask you about that
nickname sometime, but -- names it is. It's up to you, of course;
you're the mother, and I assumed the child would be living at Telgar,
not here, so you could choose something appropriate to be yelled after
him there."

Kassima elucidates, in brief, "R'ehn's afraid of kilts. I'm the
mother, aye, but you're the father. You deserve some say. And aye, he
or she'll live at Telgar--but you'll be spending time there too, won't
you? I don't mind choosing a name, but I don't intend t'keep you from
having any say. 'Twill be as much your child as mine." A quiet laugh
escapes. "And an active little bugger she is, too."

E'vrin's head lifts. "She?"

Kassima shrugs philosophically. "Both of the others were shes. Nay
reason this one mightn't be another, y'know."

You say "Ah, but it sounds as if the odds might be in favor of a male
this time, do you think?" He lilts half a grin. "You're the
professional gambler."

Kassima tsks, grinning back in full. "Which is why I know better'n
t'think past record has much effect on something like this. If'n
aught, 'twould say 'twould be more apt t'be a lass because of
m'spawning history. Still, you may be right." Quiet a moment, she
wonders at length, "Would you be terribly disappointed if'n 'twere a
lass rather than a lad?"

E'vrin loops a companionable arm around her waist. "We've had this
discussion, I think, some night or other in your weyr. No, I
wouldn't. A daughter would be as splendid to me as a son." He ducks
his head, shaking it a little. "It's still difficult to come to terms
with the fact that I'm going to be a father. Me. It's so -- awesome."

Kassima slides her own arm around his, resting her cheek against his
shoulder. "Wait until the babe's kicking strong enough for you t'feel
as well as me. 'Tis even more awesome then. Nay matter how many times
I wind up doing this... methinks 'twill always be amazed by that. And
amazed that such miracles are so easily accomplished."

E'vrin rubs /his/ cheek into her hair then falls immobile. "Well,
maybe not /easily,/ but miracles, still." Lightness floats through his
voice. "Frankly, I think I was expecting Sharath to splat during that
flight, or something equally as bad to happen to me, whatever it might
be. You /will/ let me know when she or he is kicking so I would be
able to feel it?"

"Well, I'd nay call it terribly *difficult*," Kassi argues, shoulder
shaking with quiet laughter. "Except birthing itself, but even that's
a small price for creating *life*. What happened t'you wasn't that
bad, was it?" Teasing, there, immediately followed by
affirmation. "Aye, a'course. Shouldn't be too long, though I only
started t'feel it move a couple of sevendays agone."

E'vrin agrees, able to be amused even under the circumstances, "Not
that bad at all. So ... another few sevendays, maybe? Just send a
note, and I'll come when I can."

"That's what 'lizards are for," Kassi agrees. Rolling up her eyes to
peer at him, she points out, "We're straying from the subject of
names, though. Had you any ideas? I should warn, 'twould have t'be
starting with K."

You say "Mm. And why's that, out of curiosity?"

Kassima gives a low chuckle. "Because K is the Fortunate Letter. 'Tis
good luck. And tradition, besides; you'll note that Kay and Khari's
names both start with it. As does mine, and m'father's, and
m'grandsire's."

E'vrin smiles, too. "All right, all right. 'K' what, though? Are we
going with the Weyr naming tradition of syllable combination?"

Kassima bobbles her head. "A good tradition, that. M'family follows it
too. A shame they have nay concept of good taste. But we have much
better names t'play with than last time."

"'Kassima' and 'Everin,'" the man recites, careful to enunciate each
of those to-be-combined-somehow syllables. "Let's see. If it's a girl
-- your first and my second; a boy gets my first and your
second. Right?"

Kassima blinks in surprise, drawing back long enough to look at
him. "Is *that* how it works? I never realized! I just threw together
letters at will... well, shards. Sounds t'be an interesting way of
it. Examples?"

E'vrin laughs. "I'm sorry, that's just what I thought the custom was!
My name came from Mirina and Vebor, which tweaks the rule a bit,
but..." He thinks. "Kevsim? Kasri? Oh, no, that's all awkward. We
can't have an ugly name labelling our baby. You try."

"Aside from which, K'nan and Asrai have a Kasrai, methinks. Too
close." Pursing her lips, Kassima thinks a moment before rattling off,
"Kevras, Kasseri, Kassevri, Kessira--though I'm nay certain that
follows the rules--Kevrassim, Kevrassin, Keverin, Keveris, Kevrassir,
Keveri... feh, nay. Too close t'Keri's Kaveri. Care t'be trying
another round?"

E'vrin tips his head in thought. "I like 'Kessira,' I think. 'Keverin'
-- well, no; that's just my name with your 'k' on it, which is rather
too self-aggrandizing, isn't it?"

Kassima allows, with a bright smile and a brief squeeze, "I like
Kessira, too. A good name for a lass. Don't know about
self-aggrandizing, but I suppose it might be a mite
confusing. Keverissin's a tad long, though!"

"'Keveris'?" E'vrin tries.

Kassima repeats that, thoughtfully. "Keveris. It... suits,
methinks. Nay tongue-twisting, nay too short, and with some choice in
nicknames. Kessira's similar. I'm fond of three-syllable names, for
some odd reason. Those two will do excellently." Impulsively, she
tilts her head to offer a kiss, warm and affectionate if perhaps not
mirror-steaming.

Not that any lunatic is around to advocate mirrors or the steaming
thereof -- Trevor /is/ still lecturing reproductive math to the
dragons, isn't he? Away from that, safe on the rock, E'vrin obliges
the kiss, returns it, then lifts his head with a half-crooked
smile. "There, now if only we could solve the world's problems so
easily and happily -- although I can't see the Lords Holder kissing to
end their Conclave, can you?"

"Nay unless 'twere really and truly drunk," is Kassi's mischievous
reply. "A shame; 'twould probably be a sight to make a Harper's eyes
fair pop. Methinks I like this means, though." Setting her cheek back
against his shoulder, she inquires, "Aught else we should be speaking
of, while we're both here?"

"Don't think so," E'vrin says regretfully. "Do you need more kiwi?"

Kassima shakes her head slightly. "It being summer, there's more
available than 'twas. And 'twouldn't ask poor Sharath t'get all
scratched up again for m'sake. Is there aught *you* need or want? I've
been making the rounds of the places of Pern, lately, for speciality
foods; I might be able t'pick you up something."

E'vrin's hand curves 'round her waist to splay fingers over the far
side of that belly. "And this is safe? You're sure?"

"Still safe for now. Only midway through the second trimester," Kassi
explains, "during which 'tis supposedly safe. The Healers are content
after two complication-less pregnancies that Mum's difficulties
weren't inheritable. Another month, mayhaps, and then 'twill have
t'stop. Just as well. Prolonged flying isn't advisable when you look
like an inflated bovine bladder."

"Oh." E'vrin shrugs an apology, pulling closer. "I trust you to know
that; forgive me my fretting, hmm? How I'll ever survive pacing and
worrying through the labor... I'm fine, though. I can visit and get my
own foods, I think, if I wanted them, but thank you for offering. What
are you collecting from around?"

Kassima grins impishly, eyes gleaming green with fond warmth. "Readily
forgiven. And I can always keep you too busy worrying about whether
your hand will break if'n I squeeze it any harder t'worry about me or
the babe, y'know. As t'me, I'm collecting food--cravings, y'know. You
wouldn't believe how many kiwi products or how much chutney the
spawnling seems t'be wanting."

E'vrin repeats, "Chutney? What's chutney?"

"Sauce," is Kassi's reply. "Something like sweet fruit ketchup, I
suppose. Delicious on fried eggs. And rice pudding. And frosted
cabbage."

"Oh, my," E'vrin says with that faint voice. "And the baby wants
this?"

Kassima nods enthusiastically. "Oh, aye. You should've seen the
casserole I made the other sevenday. It had cheddar, peppers, hot
sauce, syrup, oranges, and oysters in it."

E'vrin mutters into her hair, "That is truly disgusting, so I suppose
I /must/ love you, not to hold it against you."

Kassima laughs, giving him another squeeze. "Hold it against your
offspring, bronzer, nay me. Though Kay and Khari were both just as
bad. I'm usually a decent cook, but never ask me t'cook when
pregnant... the results won't be palatable."

"Do you cook the rest of the time?" E'vrin wonders. "It's something
I'm not too skilled with, but I suppose it's something I should learn,
if only to feed myself if the situation arises."

Kassima admits, "Only when there's need, really. The kitchen staff
don't like me much due to a few episodes from when 'twas proddy. But
that was the main thing I did as a Hold-lass. Tell you what; I'll
teach you to cook, if'n...." She pauses, pondering. "If'n you teach me
t'dance, assuming you know. 'Tis nay m'favored activity, but when
someone does drag me onto the floor, I'd rather nay be at risk of
breaking toes anymore."

"Of /course/ I know how to dance. Harper, remember? That was one of
the classes, stars bright above--" E'vrin considers. "It's a
deal. It's easy, actually, once you let your body listen to the music
without thinking overmuch about it. You're a dragonrider; your body
already knows how to do that, I think."

"Keeping one's seat on a dragon is different than following music,
much less being somewhat graceful about it," Kassi counters. "I've
always figured 'twould be better t'learn since Lord Tenefel teased me
about trying t'damage Weyr-Hold relations in trying to convince him
I'm a health hazard on the dance floor, but there aren't many I could
ask for teaching who wouldn't tease me about that. Cooking's easy,
too, once you get the swing of it. Mostly a matter of following
recipes and knowing which foods are sometimes best avoided."

E'vrin ripostes calmly, "You follow drills without thinking, tossing
firestone and catching it, and so on. Dancing can be like that. I
suppose cooking is, too. Maybe /any/thing is easy if you don't
overthink it."

Kassima considers this. "Nay so," she finally decides. "I doubt
convincing Trevor t'seek other victims would be easy, for example,
regardless of how much thought is put into it."

E'vrin grunts and twists his head back over his shoulder to check on
the lecturer and lecturees. "Sharath's entertained," he reports
dubiously, "which is more than I've gotten out of him regarding
another person in some time. Why /do/ you let him stay at Telgar? He
sounds like a problem."

Kassima turns her gaze the same direction, and quirks a grin. "As is
Lysseth. She enjoys watching lunatics at work, which I sometimes
suspect is why she chose me." With a light shrug, she answers, "I'm
nay the one to decide such. He's nay caused any trouble worth getting
thrown from the Weyr for so far... just embarrassment."

E'vrin adjusts their bodies' fit -- sandstone is not exactly /comfy/
-- and makes a low noise of dubious approval. "I suppose stirring a
stagnant community is no bad thing, as long as it doesn't interfere
with the Weyr's duties. Maybe we can borrow him."

"Speak for yourself," Kassi returns, dry as the stone they sit
on. "You're nay the one V'dan told me 'twas saying 'twas gorgeous,
lovely, etcetera, and with a temperament like some animal or other
with a needlethorn up its arse. Among many other things, most
odder. But if'n you want t'borrow him, and by some miracle he's
willing t'go, feel *more* than free."

E'vrin lets the night cover his delighted grin. "And /that's/ a
deal. Ah, Kassi. I wish you could visit more often, or I could visit
you more. It's so empty here, sometimes."

"Well, I could probably visit," Kassi observes after some thought. "So
long as I can *between*. There's only so much time that hidework can
take up when you've little else duty-like t'be doing."

You say "Yes, you could; I don't have a lot of duty taking up my time,
myself, so I could return it, but..." He trails off, shakes his head
again. "I'm trying very hard, given all that's happened, not to ask
too /much/ of you. This isn't a match of true love, I know that, just
convenience and happy happenstance. I don't want to push."

Kassima nods in agreement, and thought. "Aye. But i'truth, E'vrin,
give yourself *some* credit; your company is greatly more appealing
than boredom, or solitude. I've had enough of that t'last me awhile."

E'vrin rests against her. "I'm not denying myself that, nor you
anything. I received letters from home recently. One of my
half-sisters is married, with three children now, and wondering if I
found myself a nice weyrmate yet." He sighs.

"That's family for you," Kassi ruefully agrees, returning the resting
favor. "If'n your sister is worse than my mother, 'twill be heavily
surprised. At least I'm guessing you don't come from a family where
t'have less than five children's considered nigh a tragedy, and
seven's more common than that?"

"I don't know," E'vrin answers honestly. "I've told you, obliquely,
about my childhood; I didn't learn that much about my family, enough
to answer that. Judging by Thiorra and her Belec's brood, though,
maybe so." His tone turns twisty, self-reflective. "A Weyr is a good
place to live for fulfilling those expectations, at least. All the
bloody mating flights and different morals."

Kassima lowers her chin, staring off into space for a moment. "Aye,
but with each child come the pointed queries: 'Aren't you settled down
with someone *yet*, dear?' It does help that I'm hardly the first
woman of m'family to nay marry at an early age, but Mum always
suspected 'twould, as then-heir to the cothold. She was making hints
about it right ere I left t'go a-wandering." A shrug. "I've yet t'meet
a family that related entirely well to each other, well-known or
nay. Mayhaps your sister's the oddity."

E'vrin begins tentatively, testing it out for himself, "Trevor brought
up weyrmating...."

Though quiet for a moment or two, Kassi does allow at last, "Aye. He
did." A hint of query there, or perhaps just curiousity.

E'vrin murmurs, "Is that pushing?"

Kassima considers again. "T'speculate, nay," she replies softly. "But,
E'vrin... even if'n it turned out that you truly do love me, and even
if'n I fell madly in love with you, you've duties here. And I've
duties at Telgar. 'Twouldn't be right for either set t'be
abandoned. So how would that work?"

E'vrin lowers his forehead onto her shoulder. "I know, I know.... But
-- sometimes -- it helps to get an idea onto the table for discussion,
even if it ends in rejection. So you /know./"

Kassima takes her turn at speaking into his hair, slowly and with
great care. "If'n we'd a Weyr in common, I don't think 'twould be
impossible. People weyrmate for less than affection sometimes;
occasionally solely for the sake of lust. But we don't, and we
shouldn't. There are levels and levels of relationships, but that one
seems beyond us."

You say "Yes. Yes, I know." He looses a long breath and begins to draw
slowly away. "It's all right. I can accept what happiness I have,
without reaching for what might not be a good idea in any event. I
don't even know if I /want/ a weyrmate, only that I've been pressured
to conform this way or that... Confusion, yet more confusion."

Kassima doesn't resist the withdrawal, though a hint of regret shows
briefly in dark eyes. "Understandable, really. I don't know *what* I
want anymore. Solitude is lonely, but weyrmates have so many problems
that it doesn't seem the epitome of joy, either. Yet... well, mayhaps
someday 'twill figure it out."

E'vrin, of course, immediately sees and recognizes her look, and he
bends a smile in quick apology. "Sharath's bothering me for bed,
that's all. Trevor has sufficiently bored him, as I'd suspected would
happen eventually.... Yes, maybe someday. Until then, doesn't pay to
borrow heartache against the future, right?"

"Hard to imagine Trevor managing t'bore anyone," Kassima quips, "but I
suppose dragons don't see him as being quite as mad as we do. 'Tis
quite so, as you say; better t'concentrate on the good in the moment
then the what-ifs of the past or the what-could-bes of the
future. Unless you intend to actively work towards them, a'course, but
that's another matter."

You say "It is, and a discussion topic for another time." He slides
off the rock and offers a solicitious hand. "Better go round up my
beast before he finds a way to /make/ Trevor entertain him."

Kassima accepts the hand, getting to her feet with some
difficulty. "Methinks m'legs fell asleep," she mutters with a faint
chuckle. "Ah, well. A good call, and a good evening. Thankee for your
help with the names. Will you visit Telgar again soon?"

"'Kessira' or 'Keveris,'" E'vrin repeats faithfully. "They're good
names, and have a good trip home." And if she dumps Trevor /between,/
'accidentally' -- well, no. "I'll visit when I can, as ever, and I'll
wait for your message about the kick.

Kassima already thought of that and rejected it, alas. "I'truth and
deed, and 'twill send it at the time." Reaching up to brush fingers
along his cheek, she smiles at him for a moment before turning towards
her own dragon. "Clear skies, fair winds, g'night, and you can fill in
all the rest of that stuff yourself, aye?"

E'vrin points out smugly, "You said 'good night.' I /am/ training
you." Then he steps back, quickly, to allow Lysseth room and to get
/him/ out of feinting reach.

Kassima snorts and feints a kick anyway, then scrabbles up her
dragon's straps. "I'll get you for that one, soon or late!" she calls
down.

E'vrin chortles and just moves on.

[Log ends, pleasantly.]