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I've Got a Secret


Date:  November(?), 1996
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:  It never ceases to amuse me, all things considered, that
so many chars over time have ended up asking Kassi for advice on their
love lives.  In this case, there's a certain logic to it:  Mart's come
up with a Devious Plan, and who's better to advise on deviousness than
a greenrider?  Particularly when expensive gifts are involved!

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The Log:

From the air, From the Benden Star Stones, Thiva's mottled green Avivth
rears on hind legs and bugles a greeting to brown Ularrith and his rider,
M'rgan of HighReaches Weyr.

From the air, Ularrith glides down from above.

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Ularrith's voice is hesitant, like a man
reluctant to ask directions. << Where is your weyr? >>

Lysseth> Ularrith senses that Lysseth's mindvoice holds a suppressed tinge
of chuckling as she informs you, << In the Northern Bowl. >>

From the air, Ularrith flies downward to the ground.

From the air, Ularrith rises up from the bowl.

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Ularrith is speaking only because his rider is
prodding him. << We are there. Where are you? >>

Lysseth> Ularrith senses that Lysseth watches you from her ledge and tries
not to laugh as she amends, << *Upper* North Bowl. >>

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Ularrith sets his eyes to whirling faster. 
<< You didn't say that before. >> He leaves off the comment of 'greens'.

Lysseth> I bespoke Ularrith with << Well, I assumed you didn't think I
meant that I live *in* the North Bowl.... >>

Ularrith backwings for a landing.

Atop sturdy Ularrith, M'rgan stifles a laugh as Ularrith finally lands. He
waves to Kassima and Lysseth as he unhooks himself from the straps,
ignoring Ularrith's pouting snorts.

Kassima looks over from where she's seated on her chair, feet propped up on
her poor overabused table, reading over some hide or other. She waves
cheerfully, grinning. "Lyss told me you were here. Hope you didn't have too
much trouble finding the place?" Lysseth's rumbles sound suspiciously like
snickering, but when Kassi rolls her eyes at her lifemate, the green
reluctantly subsides.

M'rgan vaults down Ularrith's side to the ground, as the dragon rumbles
softly.

"Not too much trouble," M'rgan says as he comes to a soft landing on the
ground. Hands on his hips, he turns around, examining every bit of the
weyr. "It looks...completely the same."

Kassima adds rather belatedly in her ever-mindful-of-needless-formality
way, "Benden's duties to the High Reaches and her queens, and all that
stuff. What brings you to our humble abode?" She gestures to some upturned
empty boxes that appear to have served as seats for guests in the past. "I
know, doesn't it though? Haven't had a good chance to try and pick up some
wall adornments at a Gather for some time, so all that's there are the
wherry mask and Liah's painting, as usual."

M'rgan comments, "And the zillion firelizards." He peers at a few of them
who promptly peer back. Settling himself gingerly on one of the boxes as if
he expects it to collapse under his weight at any moment, M'rgan says, "I
came to talk to you about Kena."

Kassima laughs. "Zillion? Nay... only forty-seven. I think 'twill take me
another couple of Turns to get to a zillion." She abruptly turns a bit more
serious, and nods. "I heard about the Hatching, though I couldn't make it
m'self... sweeps, gah. How's she holding up?"

"Fine, I think. A bit quieter than before." M'rgan spreads his hands on his
thighs, lowering his eyes to study the scratches and scars covering his
fingers. "I don't think she faults me, which is what I was worried about."
He sighs, a bit guilty for Impressing himself and for being glad that Kena
didn't Impress. "Anyway..." He lifts his eyes to your face. "...I thought
some presents for her might be in order."

Kassima hmmms. "Aye... I recall Thera being similarly subdued for a time.
She got over it--but then, I doubt there's a force on Pern that could keep
m'cousin very subdued for very long. Presents, eh?" Kassi leans back in her
blue seat, looking thoughtful. "Presents. Aye... that might help. I doubt
that stuff about her lifemate nay being shelled yet helps much, though I've
got to admit it does seem to be a statement Bree believes in firmly--but I
digress. What sort of presents had you in mind?"

M'rgan shrugs. "I'm not sure. A lot of them." He says the last with a great
deal of emphasis, his eyes widening dramatically as he knows he's got a
great deal to make up for. A certain craftiness starts to gleam in his blue
eyes. "I was thinking that it might be fun if she didn't know they came
from me. At first."

M'rgan asks, "Do you think she'd like that?" He has apparently decided to
ask all the women he knows before committing to this project.

Kassima grins and slides her booted feet off the table to the floor,
leaning forward to listen more attentively. One can almost hear the poor
table sigh with relief; bad enough to be a makeshift fire-lizard perch, but
a footstool too? How demeaning. "Ah, I detect by the look in your eyes that
you've a plan. Out with it, brownrider! Going to leave the presents
somewhere for her to find? Have friends give 'em to her? Play the Secret
Admirer gambit?" Kassi looks like she's relishing the thought of a Plot, as
she quite probably is. "I think she would, aye. There's something rather
nice about getting gifts from an unknown benefactor, or so I've heard."

"Umm." It's obvious that M'rgan hasn't thought that far ahead. The fact
that he even came up with the 'Secret Admirer' idea was a miracle in
itself. The box shudders as he shifts his weight so that he and Kassima are
in a 'conspirator's huddle'. "Maybe it'd be better if someone gives them to
her. So they won't be stolen."

Kassima nods. "Could have a fire-lizard deliver them," she suggests. "One
she wouldn't recognize. Allanon did that when he sent gifts to Peregrine--"
A chuckle filled with amusement, as Kassi remembers the whole Princess
Peregrine saga. "Though of course, he didn't worry about his little gold
being recognized as his. 'Twould have to be something light for that,
though--either that, or 'twould have to have an awful lot of handles for an
awful lot of fire-lizards to grab onto. Mayhaps make it look like they were
delivered to your ledge at midnight? Or her office, if'n she has one, so
when she goes there in the morning she'll find 'em?" Ah, the chance to
conspire in a Secret Plan. Kassi is in her element.

M'rgan slaps his chest and thighs, looking for a piece of hide in his
pockets. For once though his is hideless and so he has to resort to that
which he most dreads, using his brain and actually remembering. "If it's on
the ledge, she'll know it was me. Who else would go up there. And then I'll
have to pretend to be all jealous." He shakes his head as he knows he's no
actor.

Kassima picks a hide up from the stack haphazardly littering one corner of
the table and tosses it to Mart, along with a stick of charcoal from out of
one of her beltpouches. That's Kassi. If you needed a distance-writer for
something, she'd probably pull one out of her belt-pouch somehow and give
it to you. "Huh. Good point," she acknowledges. "About her realizing it was
you, I mean. As I recall, you've done a rather good innocent act once or
twice, so I can't agree with your analysis of your acting abilities." She
winks, and picks up a meatroll; it's been nibbled by fire-lizards, but
Kassi's apparently used to that. "Ways of delivery will have to depend on
what you're sending, most likely; I've sent a few things via my Swarm, but
they can only carry things up to a certain weight. A cousin of mine's
trying to rig up a net so they can carry big things, if'n they work
together, but 'tis beside the point... say! Does Kena like wine? Brandy?
Any sort of drinks?"

M'rgan pauses in his furious scribbling to hmm at the question. He's lived
with the woman for over a turn now and he still feels like he doesn't know
her. But her drink preferences isn't why he's remained. "I've seen her
drink some red wine before. Why? Do you think your firelizards can lift a
skin to her?" He absently scratches at an itch along his chin as he speaks,
leaving a smudge of charcoal on his already dirty face.

Kassima nods. "They can, aye; have before, now and again. Doesn't even take
the whole Horde to do it; I've had just some of the blues deliver 'em
a'fore. Asked 'cause I've a fondness for brewing drinks, y'see. Thought
mayhaps I could save you some marks--can, most likely." She points to a
second press that sits in the shadows near Lysseth's couch, where a few of
her very meanest most pit-bull like FLs perch. "You're welcome to look
through m'wine store for something if you don't want one of my doom drinks.
I've plenty of Red in there. There's only one bottle I'm nay giving away
for aught, and Darvan'll warn you off right swift if'n you're getting close
to that one." She shoots a faint glare to the angriest of the
guardian-lizards, who hisses.

M'rgan eyes the press with some trepidition, not sure at all if he wants to
risk the wrath of the firelizards. "Why don't I worry about that later," he
says with a smile that displays his gritted teeth. "Other than the wine, do
you have any other ideas for gifts for her. I made a few marks betting on
the Hatching so she won't notice if they go missing."

Kassima chuckles ruefully. "Suit yourself. Can't say I blame you; the
little murdering louts took a sizeable chunk from the hand of the last
person 'sides me who tried to touch the thing. Gifts, gifts...." She
ponders. "Could commission a Harper to write and sing a song about her.
Jewelry tends to be a favorite. Gifts of flowers, maybe some special treats
commissioned from Bakers, clothes... a tapestry with her as the subject,
mayhaps, or a painting. Fire-lizard eggs, if she likes the critters. Maybe
a glass sculpture or suncatcher. A decorated belt-knife...."

Kassima breaks off and asks abruptly, "That reminds me, don't suppose you
know when Aph's Turnday is? K'nan doesn't seem to, and she absolutely
refuses to tell me... I've already commissioned her gift, and K'nan's, but
I want to be at least reasonably accurate in giving it."

M'rgan flips the hide over so that he can scribble down some more notes.
"...sing a song...treats...belt knife." He shakes his head. "I remember her
having a Turnday but I don't remember when. I'm surprised that K'nan
doesn't know. She's his weyrmate, after all."

Kassima sighs and nods. "Well, I'll just give it to her next time I run
into her, then. She doesn't seem to want a fuss, but she's m'best friend
aside from Lyss... I can't *nay* get her anything...." She sighs. "Just
hope Simian finishes part of it in time. I threatened to throttle him with
one of his own seashell-belts if'n he doesn't...." A wicked grin suggests
Kassi means that literally. "So I think he will. Enough about that, though.
If'n you decide to go for the Harper thing, I suggest Jerethan; I've
commissioned him once or twice, and been *quite* pleased with the results.
M'cousin Keysanna can help if'n you want some sort of odd cake for some
reason."

M'rgan sets the hide to the side for a moment as he looks curiously at
Kassima. "Why did you need a Harper ballad commissioned?" he asks with a
twinkle in his eyes and a charming smile on his lips.

Kassima hrms, again. "Think she'd like a pet? I bet our Weyrherder could
help there--you've met Caitria, I know. She was promoted to CraftSecond
recently," Kassi adds with a proud smile for her friend. Then switches
conversation tracks, "The ballads? Well, once there was a plan for
m'Weyrling group to get together to celebrate the lumps' fourth Turnday, so
I commissioned a song for that, but it didn't work out. Then I decided to
gather a gathering for F'hlan's Turnday, since 'twas slow 'round
here--winter, y'know--and so many people like F'hlan that I figured 'twould
be a good turnout. Needed a song for that, too. Why'd you think I needed
one?" she inquires curiously.

M'rgan waggles his eyebrows at you before looking away. "Oh, I just thought
you might need one for the same reason that I do." His eyes take in the
room once again and the cluttered mess spread about. A tiny frown crosses
his features but he doesn't add anything more when he looks back at you.

Kassima snorts. "Me? Faranth forbid I should find anyone worth buying
things for, 'side from my friends." The cluttered mess in the Weyr seems to
be primarily fire-lizards and things belonging solely to Kassima; yep, this
mess is all hers. Kind of inspires a faint sympathy for her mother who had
to tell her to clean her room all the time, doesn't it? She winks, though.
"But when I do need ideas for someone--if I ever do--then I'll be sure to
come ask you for 'em."

M'rgan coughs and snorts. "Me?!" The box begins to tilt dangerously,
threatening to toss him on his rump. "Why would you think...Oh. Umm, yeah.
I could help you with that, I guess." He slides his butt over until he's
sitting on the middle of the box. A spot he hopes is a lot safer than the
edge. "What did you get for Aph anyway?" he asks, neatly changing the subject.

Kassima lifts her eyebrows in confusion, obviously puzzled about the
snorting and coughing. "What? I'm giving you suggestions now; makes sense
I'd ask for suggestions in turn, doesn't it? Maybe nay. Everyone says I'm
confusing, but now I'm starting to confuse even m'friends... sheesh." She
abruptly grins at the change of topic, looking for a moment like a
ten-Turn-old on her own Turnday. "Better'n tell you, I'll show you!" Faster
than a speeding fire-lizard (and able to leap tall FL perches in a single
bound), Kassi manuevers her way through the clutter to find a box that is
relatively undamaged, which she brings back to her seat.

M'rgan blinks as a box seems to appear in Kassima's lap. Did she actually
get up? Maybe that's what that sudden wind was. His eagerness begins to
match Kassi's. "So? Are you going to show me or do I have to wait until I'm
an old man?"

Kassima taps the box. "This is only part of what I'm getting her, of
course. Simian's still working on what goes with it...." Lifting the lid
and pushing aside some cloth wrapping, she lifts out a vest. Crafted from
fine, soft leather, it's been dyed a blue to match Prefeth's hide as nearly
as dyed leather can, and measured as close to Aphrael's size as can be
determined by just looking at the bluerider. The sleeveless vest fastens
together with intricate silver hooks that, despite their complicated
appearance, are rather easy to fasten. On the left side, meant to be over
the heart, is an embroidered version of the Skyfire Wing patch, the colors
brilliant against the dark azure background. Above the patch in a
half-circle has been embroidered in delicate silver thread, 'Aphrael and
Prefeth'; beneath it, 'Benden Weyr.'

M'rgan whistles appreciatively at the vest. "You must have really made some
marks at the Hatching."

Kassima laughs and shakes her head. "Didn't go, remember?" She waves to her
decoration-bare weyr. "All m'marks seem to sink into the gift pool; good
thing I've become a bit better at dragon poker lately. Besides, my family
gives me a bit of a discount. Now, the shirt to go with this is what
Simian's working on--'tis black, see, with red embroidery at the cuffs and
collar, t'match Benden's colors. Hope Aph likes 'em... doesn't seem enough
of a gift for her, but 'tis all I could afford. Had to pay for K'nan's,
after all."

Kassima thinks to ask, with her absolute utmost innocent expression, "Which
reminds me, I don't believe you've ever told me when *your* Turnday is? Nay
that I want to know for any particular *reason*, of course...." Subtlety
has never been Kassi's strong point.

M'rgan just shakes his head in complete amazement. "I don't know how you do
it, Kassi." He blinks at her and starts to answer but then a thought comes
to him. If she gives him a present, he'll have to give her one and he can't
match that vest. "Umm, I'm not sure."

Silly. Kassi never tells anyone when her Turnday is. It's not a present if
people feel like they have to give something in return, after all. "Well, I
*do* place a few wagers on most hatchings. Sometimes have knife-throwing
contests with the others; you'd think they'd learn nay to bet against me by
now...." She winks. "But riders *can* be such a dense lot. Nay excluding
m'self in that. You're nay sure? What, your parents never celebrated it?"
Now she looks downright shocked at the idea, though it's hard to tell if
she's buying this. From the lift of one of her eyebrows, one would probably
guess not.

M'rgan lowers his gaze, trying his best to look forelorn and pitiful. "My
parents didn't believe in Turndays." He unveils his eyes for just a moment
to see if Kassi is buying it. Nope. Doesn't look like it. He adds a
shuddering breath to his act, appearing as if the whole thing leaves him
desperately sad.

Kassima tsks, still not buying it but obviously dismayed by the meager
possibility that Mart *could* be telling the truth. Very meager, but
anything's possible. "Well, now! *There's* a shame for you. Turndays are
*very* important to my family... unfortunately," she quips with a wry
good-natured grimace. "Some of 'em have the most sharding awful ideas of
what constitutes a proper gift. Didn't Aph ever do something?"

M'rgan adds a sniffle. Okay, he's too old for that but if it works..."She
was gone before we even had a turn together so she never had the chance."
Off on the ledge, Ularrith buries his head in his forelimbs, as if to hide
from the sight of his rider making a fool of himself. Wiping at his nose
with the back of his hand, M'rgan snuffles out, "Maybe we shouldn't talk
about it anymore."

Kassima nods sympathetically. "And then you got banned from visiting her
for that while...." Okay, Kassi may not be totally gullible, but neither is
quite ice-hearted. Snow, yes. Ice, no. Trying not to make a face at the
sight of someone wiping their nose on their hand--yuck, germs!--she reaches
into yet another belt pouch and tugs out, yes, you guessed it, a
handkerchief. Which she hands over. "If'n you like," she agrees amiably,
though one can see the gears spinning behind those emerald eyes of hers.
There's still Aph and K'nan and Bree to pester, then maybe Kena, or
Julaina... they'd know, right? Never let it be said that this greenrider
isn't stubborn--not that anyone'd say that anyway, since it's completely
and totally untrue. "How've things around the 'Reaches been? Weyrlings
shaping up all right?"

M'rgan blows once into the hankie before extending it back towards Kassi.
He still doesn't raise his eyes, as if completely ashamed by the whole
discussion. Though in reality it's because he doesn't have a single tear in
them and he can't seem to make them fall. Pitiful, isn't he. An almost 18
turn old trying to cry. But it's better than putting out marks for presents
that he knows Kassi will hate. "They've mostly been *sniff* washing their
dragons. Too young to do more right now."

Kassima accepts the hankie gingerly, setting it on the table--where, of
course, it is immediately grabbed by several fire-lizards. She rolls her
eyes and tries not to pay them much attention; she's had lots of practice
at that. Her expression goes another notch towards sympathetic, though not
much, since she's done this crying act (with much more success, she might
add) several times herself. "Oh... that must be fun. Heard there were a lot
of greens? Must've been a truly fine clutch."

Ularrith raises his head at the mention of greens, his head at a jaunty
angle as he rumbles over at Lysseth. Meanwhile, his rider wipes at his eyes
before finally raising his face, though he does keep his eyes slightly
hooded. "I didn't really see much of it. I was looking mostly at Kena."
Inwardly he smiles as the conversation goes full circle.

Lysseth raises her head proudly and rumbles back, the effect rather spoiled
by the displaced blue FL who suddenly finds himself hanging precariously
from her nose. "I wish I could've been there," Kassi sighs. "I wanted to
see how she'd do, and those others too... well, mayhaps I'll make Ista's
next Hatching, though that's a ways off yet. Y'know, I've never been to an
Ista Hatching?"

M'rgan takes up the hide and charcoal stick once again as he seems safe at
the moment. "I've never been to one at Igen." But there are reasons for
that apart from absent-mindedness. He glances down at the notes he took,
only able to make out half of them. "The Harper you suggested was Jerelan?"

Kassima hrms. "Just bad circumstance?" she inquires. "I've missed Ista
Hatchings due to sweeps, and a'course I didn't have the means to go to the
one right a'fore Benden's where Lyss nabbed me as her eternal slave...
Jerethan, actually. He's a Journeyman; used to be a Lower Caverns lad here,
is how I know him. Pleasant sort. Aph would recommend him if you asked her,
I wager."

M'rgan says simply, "The timing wasn't right with Igen." In other words,
the first Hatching he could attend came after the incident with Ularrith
and Libeth. An even that he'll never forget, but wishes that he could. "You
don't know where he's posted, do you?"

Kassima hrms, and nods. "Aye..." she says slowly, her expression now one of
understanding. Similar reasons could be part of the deeper psychological
reason she avoids Ista... nah. Switching back to the Jereth topic, she
replies, "I do, actually. He was promoted recently--hasn't been posted yet,
so he's still at the Hall. Shouldn't be too hard to track down."

M'rgan scribbles that information down quickly before folding the hide
carefully and tucking it into his shirt pocket. He holds the charcoal stick
out towards Kassima gingerly, as if he's expecting one of the many
firelizards milling about to soar down and grab it from him. "Well, I'd
better be getting back to the Weyr before Kena notices that I'm missing.
Don't want her getting suspicious right now." The box crackles and pops as
tries to return to its 'normal' shape.

Kassima accepts the stick and tucks it in her pouch; one of the FLs does
try to grab for it, but misses and falls on the floor in an undignified
heap of chirples and indignant squawks. "All right, then... clear skies,
Benden's duties, and all that rigamarole." She peers outside, and then
looks back, her face full of mischievous mock-amazement. "Why, Mart, I do
believe you've broken the curse! For once, you visited and nay greens went
up!"

M'rgan rolls his eyes but responds cheerily, "I had one of the other riders
check the area for glowing greens before I came here. Course, Ulie's
none-too-pleased about that." Though you couldn't tell my looking at the
brown lump of a dragon that he was anything less than happy about napping
next to Lysseth. This time it's his rider that eyes the green, just to make
sure. Reassured that Lysseth's glow is nothing more than that of a healthy,
oiled dragon, M'rgan turns back around and snaps a salute to Kassima. "High
Reaches' duties to Benden and her queens. Tell me what Aph thinks of her
present."

Kassima stands and salutes just as crisply, clicking her boot-heels
together. "Shall do! I'll probably have to go pester Simian tonight; he'd
best have it done, or there'll be Faranth to pay." She chuckles. "Well, at
least this nixes my theory that 'twas your fault all those greens were
rising in the first place. Maybe it *was* something in the water."

M'rgan arches an eyebrow at Kassi as Ularrith sleepily lumbers to his feet.
"Just so long as none of that water gets near Kena." He reaches for
Ularrith's strap, easily swinging up onto his lifemate's neck.

M'rgan vaults up onto Ularrith's back, the dragon's sparkling eyes watching
closely.

Kassima grins. "Just make sure she doesn't drink it if she visits!" she
yells up to the brownrider. "That stuff could make *men* pregnant, and I
wouldn't be surprised!"

Atop sturdy Ularrith, M'rgan grimaces at that horrible thought, a
sympathetic pange crossing his belly. "Remind me not to drink the water
either," he calls out just before Ularrith leaps from the ledge, the
dragon's great wings rustling open as he glides into the bowl.

Ularrith spreads his wings and leaps from Lysseth's ledge.