All references to worlds and characters based on Anne McCaffrey's fiction are copyright © Anne McCaffrey 1967,2000, all rights reserved, and used by permission of the author. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is registered U.S. Patent and Trademark Office, by Anne McCaffrey, used here with permission. Use or reproduction without a license is strictly prohibited. For more information, visit the Worlds of Anne McCaffrey.

07-05-01: Exchanges
Lydiere and Llysereth catch R'yn and Zippith upon the beach-- and for once, things are peaceful.

You head down the stairs to the beach.

Llysereth heads down the stairs to the beach.

Llysereth has arrived.

Lydiere makes great strides across the sand, straight towards the waters edge, at which point she dips her bare feet into it, the smallest of smiles sweeping her face into one far greater. Leaning down to roll up the legs of her breeches, the young weyrling then steps deeper into the water, allowing it as far up as her knees, the rolls of her breeches getting wet as waves splash about her. Llysereth, no less enthused, makes great steps towards the water, splashing in to ensure Lyddie is entirely wet within moments. "Llysereth!"

Zippith is visible floating in the water, but for the first few moments at lest, R'yn's nowhere in sight. The bronze has his wings spread to keep him afloat, but the arrival of his daughter animates him, and he wastes no time splashing in her direction with a cheerful bellow of greeting. Outraged shouts sound from behind him, and R'yn is revealed floundering in his wake, cursing colourfully, and striking out for the shore.

Llysereth rejoins below with a soprano trill, her wings spreading as she pushes them towards the water, ensuring a great splash of her own. With a roll of her eyes, Lyddie steps back from the young dragon, squeezing water from her shirt with a rueful grin that widens further as R'yn's floundering form catches one grey eye. "Perhaps I can see where Llysereth gets her enthusiasm for water from. Are you all right--not half drowned?"

R'yn splutters, slapping disgustedly - and ineffectually - at Zippith's hide, as the bronze extends his nose to Llysereth, disintereted in the woes of his rider. "Fine, fine." Cough, cough, semi-choke. "I hope that's all she inherited from this no-good lump. I should be used to it by now. He always forgets I'm lying somewhere on him." And is unworried now, it seems. "How goes, though?"

Lydiere's teeth rest upon her lip, as if she struggles to hold back a giggle, her head held high. "She certainly doesn't seem to get anything from Ysmalath, so perhaps it's all--er, I don't know the word. From generations back." Maintaining an effortless smile, the weyrling responds, "Oh, I'm--doing fine, thank you. And yourself, now that you've got air to breath again?" Llysereth nudges her nose towards Zippith in return, a delighted warble escaping.

"A throwback. Perhaps, perhaps. Who knows?" Bare feet shuffle to dig a hold in the sand, and the rider tightens the sarong bound around his waist - fine for sunning in, not quite so ideal for swimming. "Today, over all, has worked." Indeed, there's a marked air of smugness about him. "For once, people cooperated. It happens so rarely, the holders behaving themselves, that I like to savour it when it happens."

Lydiere points her toes, digging into the sea-bed beneath her feet with one nudging toe. With attention facing towards R'yn, she raises an eyebrow, questioning, "Then I should congratulate you, upon your efforts and successes, I suppose? What is it that usually doesn't work?" Another glance is made towards her lifemate, who has well aquainted herself with the water, "Who knows indeed. Perhaps she's just herself."

[DTU/Project] Llysereth senses that Zippith offers a ribbon of pure rum-gold, his mind voice vibrant with an energy not often present, strong tenor cheerfully concealing a chuckle - not very well. << He thinks I do not remember he lies there. I do. It is -so- amusing, though, to watch him plutter and curse, do you not think? >>

"Herself, and partly you as well, I think. That's always the way." A slow, back popping stretch, and R'yn drops to the sand, arms looped easily around his knees. "Firstly, the holders cooperated with me on renegotiating our transport rates, which was a surprise, and then we worked on a search and rescue. That's my first love - that's why I was brought over from Xanadu, to add some experience to the wings here. There's a convenient stream of breathless and grateful formerly distressed damsels on hand, when you're doing rescue."

[DTU/Project] Zippith senses that Llysereth's satin-limned note -- a gentle soprano -- resonates with pure delight, washing with the palest of golds, tone hushed. << What fun! >> she agrees, innocence blessed, << The water is so much better than the sun. He should understand that. >>

Lydiere runs one hand through her hair, pulling it back from her face, before she leans down to sink her hands into the water, splashing it against her knees. "True enough, I expect, although we're hardly similar." Rising, the woman adds, her head cocked from listening, "Oh, that's very good. It will add some income, then, I expect?" She nods firmly, adding, "Search and rescue? How could I have guessed that that was your love. Do I pity the girl, or should it be more like envy?"

"That's entirely up to you, and whatever my hopes, I wouldn't dare answer for you." R'yn's tired, despite the good humour he exhudes, leaning back against the sand, hands going behind his head. "And of course it's search and rescue. I get the chance to look dashing, that sort of thing. It's actually less romantic than it seems - most of the people you eventually find are cold and tired and rather less than romantically inclined. Don't tell, though - we do like to cultivate a different image. In this case, were you inclined to envy, envy would be in order. She recovered from her ordeal with admirable ease, and wasn't scared of the dragonride at all." Another stretch, while Zippith cavorts in the water. "We need to haul up our income, at that. This helps, as does every small increase. If they charge us more for their goods, we must charge more for ours."

Lydiere's lips part, and a chuckle emerges, her right eye twitching into a wink as she moves down to crouch once more, hands smoothing through the water with soft movements. "Pity then," she decides, teasing, although it's with a warm laugh. "Dashing, bold, and brave--yes, I can see the attraction. What a pity that 'dashing' is not a word often used in conjunction with females, and it's rather hard to rescue a guy and for them to go all romantic." Again, she winks, mirth showing through her expression. "Oh, I won't tell! Not much, anyway. I'm glad to hear that, though, for her, whoever she was. A good outcome." More slowly, she nods, agreeing, "The only way to do business, I suppose. Doesn't work, otherwise."

R'yn nods, observing her from where he sprawls. "Indeed. Usually they're so outraged I feel as though I'm depriving their children of all hope of a meal." A shrug dismisses the problem. "We have plenty of women in the wing, and they so just as well - you need men and women, and dragons of ever colour. Bronzes, and browns, too, have the endurance to glide for hours and hours, searching, but often we can't get down into the clearings where a green or blue can. And the people we find are distressed, a good deal of the time - sometimes a woman calms another woman better than I do, and sometimes vice-versa." Another shrug. Far too much seriousness. He'd rather sun, and flirt at her, if not with her. "I miss it, but I find weyrleadering brings just as steady a stream of women with it, and the weyr's on ground level, so you don't have to wait about to give them a lift down, either." He's watching her through slitted eyes, quite prepared to scramble, should sand or water start flying in his direction.

Lydiere, so far, shows no signs of sending anything flying, although the same could possibly not be said about Llysereth, who is quite happy to let other things fly, even if she cannot herself. "I think that's ye old traditional reaction, there. I saw the same, when I took cargoes, with my boat." With a broader smile, as she swings her hands through the water, she adds, "Except gold dragons, I'd imagine. But I can see why greens and blues would be just as useful and browns and bronzes." A firm nod follows, head shaking to toss hair away from her face. "You and your women," she chuckles, "I'm sure they're all flocking to you--yes, that ground weyr would have advantages. Unless they get so depressed afterwards that they decide to fly without." Wry tone; serious topic, but a joke, all the same.

"Depressed? They're in raptures of joy, their entire world-view altered." He mocks himself now, but with the easy, lazy grin he's known for. "They flock, they flock. If only one could tell the genuinely attracted from the social climbers, life would be easy indeed, no?" There's a hint of regret there, but so well smothered with laughter that it's almost imperceptible. "It helps, I think, to have the reputation of an unrelenting bachelor. It makes one a challenge to all the girls who believe they'll be the one to cause you to fall in love. I'm already in love. Have been since before my Zip shelled, but she won't have me, so I console myself elsewhere."

Lydiere chuckles wryly, mirth spilling out with a comfortingly warm sound. "Oh, of course," she responds, keeping her face as straight as possible, "My mistake. Oh--poor you, having to try and use your brain, to tell one type from the other. How much easier could one's life get?" Rising, a wave from Llysereth's playfulness within the water almost sends her sprawling, and certainly leaves her more wet than previously. "Thank you, Llysereth," dryly said. "Yes, that would help, I suppose. A big attraction. No doubt, they compete over it, who can get you to break first." One eyebrow raises, a lazy grin emerging. "Wise woman, that one you love. Or perhaps--no, wise, rather than deluded."

R'yn shrugs, fingers raking through the sand as Zippith rumbles his amusement, dipping his head under the water to watch a passing school of fish dart past. "I suppose she is wise. I don't think she'll ever change her mind. Neither will I though. It would be unfair to anyone to settle with them while I was thinking of another." Goodness, look at that. R'yn can actually be reflective. Not all smiles and laughs, and flirtations after all. "For now, though, I think I'll console myself with my conquests." Another grin, banishing any hint of reflectiveness, and he rises to his feet easily, looking over to where the dragons play. "I'll leave Zip with you two. He's having fun. For now, my stomach bids me to the kitchens, to be chased out with a wooden spoon, no doubt." And so, with a wink, a grin and a wave, he's making his way up the beach.

Lydiere nods ruefully, then lifts one hand from the water to wave, spraying droplets about her as she does so--"'bye, then."