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.

13-02-02: Quick Kisses
Couples are insanely cute - even when they're discussing quite seriously their future.

Invariel blinks, startled by the new arrivals. He stops walking round in circles, and turns to face the visitors. "Err. Hi." He tries to look calm and collected, but his greeting comes out rather shaky.

G'wain slips out of his and Lydiere's weyr looking much refreshed. Heading down the ramp, he spots a new face, Invariel. "Hi there," He says as he waves, making his way down towards the man. Stepping off the ramp at the bottom he looks back over his shoulder before starting forward. "Welcome to Ista. That is, if you're new. I havn't seen you before." He grins. "I'm G'wain, rider to Ahreluth." He always leaves off the bronze part.

Lydiere's several steps behind G'wain, and somewhat distracted - she's still buttoning up the last buttons on her shirt, and her bootlaces are untied. Face lights into a brief smile, as she hears Invarial and G'wain, dropping her hands towards her pockets as seh echoes the greetings: "Hi there."

Invariel bows to the two, his long brown hair covering his face when he stands erect once more. His eyes screw themselves up as he realises how unkempt he must seem, and he brushes the hair to the sides of his head. "I'm Invariel. It is nice to meet you both. This is Ista Weyr, then? I'm in the proper place?"

G'wain chuckles softly and nods his head. "How could you not know?" He asks, a little confused as to the man's manner. "You are, however, in the right place." That glance over his shoulder was towards Lydiere, and he gestures to her boots. "They're untied..." Like she doesn't know that. But he doesn't want her to fall! Turning back to Invariel, he offers his hand. "Well met, at any rate." He offers.

"Oops." Lydiere'd all but forgotten, in her hurry - which seems, however, to have been forgotten now - but promptly leans down to tie up the laces before she does trip on them, a more lasting grin resting upon her features. "Well met, Invariel. I'm Lydiere." Tilting her head to the side, she adds, "Couldn't be anywhere else. It's an island, after all."

Invariel happily shakes G'wain's hand. "It is nice to make your acquaintance, G'wain. And Lydiere. I ask because I am new to the life of the Weyr, and was not certain what to expect." He offers his hand to Lydiere, somewhat reservedly.

G'wain smiles, and the hand that just shook Invariel's now moves to scratch his nose. "You'll soon get used to it. Just sleep with as many people as you can, and you'll fit in fine." Was that a joke? Suppressed mirth makes G'wain's lips twitch, but what doesn't readily show in his face shows in his eyes. "I'm only kidding," He offers, withe a wink. "You'll soon get used to it. I'd say go and see the headwoman, Valesa."

Lydiere rises to her feet again, accepting Invariel's hand cheerfully: "Ah. Expect the unexpected. That's probably your best cue." Hers is a firm grasp upon his hand, giving a firm shake before she pulls it away again, promptly running her fingers through her hair to pull it back from her face. "Where're you from, then?" G'wain's response causes her lips to twitch, which she rapidly surpresses, still grinning.

Invariel takes his hand back, somewhat confused by the actions of those who have met him here, glances toward the lowlands, and says, "I'm from nowhere. Nowhere important, compared to a Weyr, that is." He looks to the ground, and is silent.

G'wain smiles. "Troubled past?" He asks, somewhat sympathetically, before continuing. "We won't quiz you on that, or even allude to it again." He shrugs his shoulders. "I guess you're here for a new life. Got a craft behind you?" He asks, a deep breath taken so that he can yawn, "Any special skills?" Though that actually comes out as, 'OOornay sheeshoo skills?"

"Everywhere's important," declares Lydiere with a grin. "But, as G'wain says, no need to refer to it. We don't care, much." She peers at G'wain thoughtfully, noting, "If you didn't understand that last bit, Invariel, you're in good company, because I certainly didn't."

Invariel shrugs, sighs, and doesn't seem to happy about his whereabouts. "I don't like talking about my past. I'm just ... searching for a new life. The Weyrs protected my family for many Turns, and I felt that I might find a reason for being among those that kept my family alive." He turns to Lydiere, and says, "No, I did not understand him either. I heard 'Skills' though." And then, he notices the dragon. And his jaw drops. "Th... th... thaaa... erg. Was that what I thought it was?"

Invariel shrugs, sighs, and doesn't seem to happy about his whereabouts. "I don't like talking about my past. I'm just ... searching for a new life. The Weyrs protected my family for many Turns, and I felt that I might find a reason for being among those that kept my family alive." He turns to Lydiere, and says, "No, I did not understand him either. I heard 'Skills' though." And then, he notices the dragon. And his jaw drops. "Th... th... thaaa... erg. Was that what I thought it was?"

Ahreluth looks over from his ledge with Llysereth, bronzen head peering down with whirling blue eyes. "I asked if ou had any special skills." Looking up at Ahreluth, he finds it the most natural thing in the world... he doesn't even understand what Invariel's talking about. "What? Was /what/, what you thought it was?"

Lydiere peers from G'wain to Invariel, and then back again, and merely shrugs. Whatever. "What what was?" she echoes, attempting to straighten her hair again, accepting Invariel's explanation with a cheerful nod. Llysereth is on the the ledge with Ahreluth, and lifts her own head, thoughtfully, before resting it down again.

Invariel looks completely flustered, "Th... th... th... there was a dr... dr... dr... agon not thirty metres from me... I've only seen them from far away..." He takes a few deep breaths to calm himself down, and then looks back at the two. "Skills? Like, woodworking and the like? I don't...

Invariel looks completely flustered, "Th... th... th... there was a dr... dr... dr... agon not thirty metres from me... I've only seen them from far away..." He takes a few deep breaths to calm himself down, and then looks back at the two. "Skills? Like, woodworking and the like? I don't..." He clenches his hands and looks down at them. "I don't use my hands... I know how to use a weapon, I guess... I could do that..."

G'wain snickers ever so softly and gestures to Ahreluth. "There's one not 5 metres away from you." Maybe a little more, maybe a little less. "You're going to have to get used to it, if you're going to live here. That's Ahreluth. He doesn't bite." << Why would I bite? >> Because you're meant to look menacing and scary. Roar, or something. << Why? >> So we can frighten this poor lad. << Why? >> Just do it. << I don't... roar. >> Open your mouth then. << Why? >> Just /do/ it. << Alright... >> Ahreluth opens his mouth wide, showing his lovely sharp teeth. He ends up yawning, however, tongue uncurling. Awww... cute, not menacing. << Was that alright? >> Grumble.

Lydiere's eyes roll cheerful, as she digs her hands into her pockets more deeply. "Llysereth's up there, too, but she's perhaps less noticable at the moment." She's not hiding - she's just resting. It's nice. "Weapons? Perhaps we can hand you over to Rayne, then. She can always use more guards."

Invariel turns around, and sees Ahreluth just in time for him to open his gaping maw. He mouths a soundless scream, and runs far enough away from the Dragon that he may still talk to the two, but so that they are between him and the fearsome beasts. "Who were you talking to, G'wain?" He looks at Lydiere again. "Who's Lilserreth?" He stumbles over the name. "And, Rayne, you say? She can train me in the ways of weapons?"

G'wain gestures to Ahreluth. "Ahreluth, meet Invariel. Invariel, Ahreluth. He's my lifemate. Llysereth is Lydiere's, here." Gesturing for Invariel to return, G'wain is shaking his head from side to side. "They won't hurt you, really. And if they do, it'd be only by accident." Sure, there are some evil dragons, but not at Ista. They're just insane at Ista. "And yes, Rayne. She's the Guardcaptain here. Leaves me... hot, sweaty and virtuous." He winks at Lydiere, stifling a chuckle.

Llysereth raises her own head again, although only slightly - as if attempting to remain smallish, and therefore not quite so menacing. "I promise they won't. Llysereth would be absolutely horrified, if she hurt anyone, especially if it was by mistake. She's really quite gentle." For a huge thing like she is. She coughs cheerfully at G'wain's comment, adding, "She'd love to have you, I'm sure. Always looking for new guards."

Invariel is taken aback for a moment, taking in quite a lot of information at one time. "So, you two are bonded," he gestures to G'wain and Ahreluth, "and you two are as well," points to Lydiere and Llysereth, "but you two," points to G'wain and Lydiere, "are not... And neither are they, right?" He breathes, trying to say that in words, as much as he tries to arrange it in his own mind. And then, Lydiere says 'She'd love to have you' and he takes a step back before she finishes her sentence. "Oh. Rayne. Right." He wipes a brief trace of sweat off his brow. "So," he cautions, "they're harmless?"

G'wain laughs, and considers telling Invariel that they can fry him to a crisp, if they want. True, yes - or at least for one of them - but not really beneficial to the cause. "That's right. Kind of. Lydiere and I, and Ahreluth and Llysereth are weyrmated." There's a sense of love, and pride in that. "Kind of a different bond, but one nonetheless." To the second question, he nods his head slowly. "They're harmless when they want to be. Give them a reason, though..." Swipe your claw. << Why? Is this another just do it thing? >> Yes. << Why? >> I want to make a point. << Why? >> You're worse than a four turn old child. << Hey! Fine... >> Ahreluth swipes his claw in the air. It's more of a gesture than a swipe, though. << Like that? >> That's fine. Thankyou. << Anytime... >>

"Bonding has a few different meanings, I expect," says Lydiere, speaking up, her finger digging through a hole in one of her pockets. "But G'wain basically has it right here, I think. Make sense?" Grinning, the woman adds, "Llysereth'd never hurt a trundlebug, most of the time.--Faranth, G'wain, there's no need to show /that/ off." Talon swiping. Scary. "They're not dangerous creatures, honestly. -- And yes, Rayne. Not Llysereth. She doesn't eat people."

Invariel looks to the up and the left, not noticibly, but his eyes do seem to be moving quickly to the right, from the left, back to the left, and to the right again. "So, Rayne is who I have to see? And, where would I find her?"

G'wain chuckles. "I'm just having a little fun. He wanted to know why I wanted him to flick his talons, and why I wanted him to roar... Though he didn't do that... He's a real softie. I'll call him to come down and meet you, if you like..." G'wain offers, even as Ahreluth shuffles to the edge of the ledge, reaching his neck out to G'wain. << Can I come down now? >> Not yet. Don't want to scare him. << But you... >> I know. << I had some ideas, too... >> Shhh!

Invariel bows pleasantly, and quickly says, "Although he seems harmless, and you two are quite friendly, I really have to be away now. I am very tired. I think I will run off to hide somewhere. Take care, you both."

Invariel walks out to Living Cavern.

Lydiere raises a hand up after Invariel, only too late - it takes a little longer, when they're so firmly entrenched in pockets. "Well," says she, with a shrug.

And Ahreluth was going to come down, too... Shame. G'wain raises an arm also, and calls after Invariel, "Be well!" But it seems that he missed. "He seems night enough. Get Rayne onto him, see if he's as good at fighting as he boasts - they often aren't, but hey... Or we could give him a craft. He didn't look that old."

"She'll train him well enough, even if he isn't," reflects Lydiere thoughtfully, head tilting into a nod. "Or a craft, yes. I'd say he's probably a little older than you, but you're still young enough to join a craft, I'd say. But...I imagine he'll figure things out for himself, once he gets settled. If he stays. Being nervous of dragons isn't /truly/ a good thing in a weyr."

G'wain nods his head in agreement. "Surely. Though we can also train him out of that. Or impress him to one," He grins, knowing full well that they can't really do that - it's up to the dragon. "Me, join a craft?" He asks, considering this. "What /would/ I do..."

"Baker." Lydiere's quick to respond to that one, with jovial enthusiasm. "But don't, because then you'd been even busier, and with less free time." She'd be jealous. "You never know - he could well end up Impressing. Well...it's always a possibility, anyway. Who knows what goes on through the minds of dragons."

G'wain nods his head. "You're right, as ususal, about the dragons. Though I don't think I'd be a good baker, though. I'd eat what I cooked, and no-one else'd get any. Ahreluth's got a sweet tooth, you know..." Another wierd fact. "He'd probably eat any of the pastries that I made. But I would't want to give up the free time I had. I'd considered Healer, or Harper as well..." he offers, "I can sing, a bit, and I'm told that I look after sick people well - good beside manner, or something."

Lydiere considers this, as she digs her hand back into her pocket, finding it a comfortable movement. "You'd probably get fat," she agrees, "and in trouble, for not making sure that other people get to eat what you're making. Baker's out, then." Her eyebrows raise upon mention of Ahreluth's sweet tooth - "odd, I never knew that." - and then she grins. "Harpering's not bad, I imagine. There's my aunt, and J'ran, too. Good sorts, Harpers. I don't know much about healer, though. I'd hate it."

G'wain nods his head. "I think I might, too -- Healer, that is. I can't stand looking at blood and... Ew." Shudder. "Harper isn't bad, but then there's the TechCraft... I havn't really seem much of that down here. Over at Xanadu, though..." He shakes his head. "They've got /everything/.

Lydiere's nose wrinkles. "Nope, definitely not a fan of the blood and the rest. Ick." She nods. "Techcraft? Not interested in that, myself. Technology, bah. People wanting to have motorised boats, and radios, and...I don't understand most of that technology stuff, I guess. But--that's just me, I suppose."

G'wain chuckles softly. "Whaaaat, you don't want a computer?" Just imagine. Pern on the internet -- I'm G from Ista, and I'm lookin' for a good time? ;) You do? Hang on, I'll jump on my dragon, be right there. "I don't think I do either. We've been fine like this all before AVAIS came along. Sure, some things are good, but I wouldn't want to become like those pictures that I was shown, a while back. What about... a Vintner?" He asks, with a grin. "I don't think so."

"No way, no how." Although hidework /would/ become easier. Paperwork, really. Even if the idea of Pernese on the Internet is a scary one. "I'm glad that AIVAS ended thread, and all that, but...Seems like it makes things more complicated, rather than less. I gave up trying to learn how to use all this techy stuff. Give me the traditional way, boring though it is, any day." Even if with a computer, she could probably waste her time playing dragonpoker against the computer all day. "Vintner? Hah. No, become a seacrafter."

G'wain chuckles, and nods his head. "Again, right. I mean, it would take to long to learn to use a computer to do hidework, than to just do the work." He takes in the idea of being a seacrafter, before raising his eyebrows. "That's not a nad idea. you'll teach me?" He asks, that sly grin there... Maybe her teaching him wouldn't be a good idea. Nothing'd get done!

Lydiere snorts, amused, her lips twitching. "Oh, yes, I can see it now. You, me, and a boat. Getting nowhere." Well - the boat might.

G'wain snickers softly. "You did offer to take me sailing," He reminds her, with a grin. "That would be you, me and a boat." Again, probably getting nowhere. That is, until the boom swings about and cracks G'wain over the head.

Lydiere echoes G'wain's snicker ruefully, agreeing, "You have a point. But at least, then, I wouldn't be trying," or not trying, as the case may be, "To teach you something. Would you even listen to me, if I did try and teach you?"

G'wain folds his arms at the suggestion that he wouldn't listen. "Of course I would," He says, somewhat mock-insulted at the suggestion that he wouldn't. "I just might be doing other things while I was listening. I can't help it if /you/ get sidetracked..." He says, with a grin.

Lydiere sticks out her tongue teasingly, drawing arms and hands out of her pockets to cross in a similar way to G'wain's own arm-crossing. "Just because you can multi-task, and I can't..." she mumbles, with a cheerful grin. "It isn't /my/ fault that I can't concentrate on everything at once."

G'wain chuckles and isn't that good at multi-tasking. He can just do two things well. Listen, and seduce Lydiere. And they go well together, for him at least. "I can't either," he offers. "I can only concentrate on you." Aww.

Saccharine. But awful cute. Lydiere - ah, well, she smiles contentedly, dropping her arms back down towards her sides. "Who needs to eat pastries," she notes, laughing, "When I get my quota of sugar from you!" Ah, but she's pleased, although - "I suppose we better give up the idea of my teaching you seacrafting, though. Mores the pity."

Isn't most everything that G'wain does, or says, sweet? Well, not everything, but a lot of things. "You, nor I need sweetening in out klah, then," he infers, chuckling softly. "I'd like to learn a crafy though. Or at least, some skills that'll be.. transferrable, when I'm older."

"You're not thinking about the future, when you're old and gray and need to do something other than active duty, are you?" The thought surprises Lydiere, who tilts her head to the side, considering G'wain. "Crafts are good, though. I doubt I'll ever properly sail again - not with Llysereth - but having the knowledge is important to me."

"I was thinking about it a little," G'wain admits. "Just wondering what I'd do... I wouldn't want to end up as an old toothless Uncle in the Living Caverns. I want to still be able to do things..." He says, looking at Lydiere. "You know. Be useful."

Lydiere snorts. "I'd like to be useless. To not have anyone demanding anything of me, although I suppose I'd end up the toothless old goldrider that won't quite get her claws out of everything." She nods, however, adding, "Just think about something you like doing, I guess."

G'wain chuckles. "I'd demand things of you, but I doubt that you'd begrudge that. The only thing that I can't see you doing well into your old age would have to be... hidework." He chuckles, ever so softly once more. "You'd just order everyone else to do it, I think. I would too, if I was in that position," G'wain confesses. "I think I want that too, though. But to still be able to do things, and not have to rely on others to do them for me."

"In that case, I suppose I'll never be entirely useless," responds Lydiere with a low chuckle. "Just almost. -- Oh, Faranth, yes. Hidework can be tossed out the window the minute I turn fifty, methinks. If not before." Fifty being the measure of age? "That's only...twenty-four more turns. I can manage that." Grinning, she agrees: "If I'm ever Senior, I think I'm going to need a very hidwork happy assistant, or junior. -- I guess that's true. Wanting to be capable, within yourself, to do everything."

G'wain nods his head emphatically. "Oh, yes. I'll have to begin training someone, since, as we know, I'm no help there. But why fifty?" He asks, "You might want to give it all up before then, or not give it up at all... Why put a time on it? But, if you're ever Senior, I think you're going to need a more sensible weyrmate." Careful... could send him into depression here.

Lydiere stretches her shoulders, shrugging them as she drops them once more. "Fifty seemed like a good, solid age. I'd rather give it all up today, but Lymera'd kill me, and I don't think I'd be allowed. Besides, by the time I'm fifty, Llysereth mayn't rise anymore, and we'll be able to go and do what we want." Her eyes roll again, lips twitching. "Whyfor? I think I'd need your senselessness, if I were senior. Llysereth likes Ahreluth, but when it comes down to flight...who knows what'd happen."

G'wain moves a little closer to Lydiere, a short nod of his head. "It /is/ a good solid age. Faranth help me though, if Ahreluth is still chasing when I'm seventy..." he says, trying to make a joke out of it... but there's something about his voice that makes it... not so successful. "If you were senior, and Ahreluth didn't win... would we still..." His hand move up the the back of his neck, kneading it as he asks his question - or rather, half question.

Lydiere wrinkles her nose in horror, agreeing, "If Llysereth is still rising in twenty-four turns, I may well go insane. Sands-sitting is honestly not my favourite activity." She pauses, her eyebrows raising - a frown resting upon her face. "If Ahreluth didn't win, what?" Pause. "Oh! Of course we'd still be...together. Llysereth has no bearing upon my personal life, I promise."

You can almost feel the tension within G'wain dissipate. No matter what he says to the contrary, he's still quite sensitive. Moving to enfold Lydiere in a hug, he's smiling. "I'm glad. Just as Ahreluth has no bearing on mine... Whatever flights he wins, no rider could compare." Maybe it wouldn't be a good thing to laugh, this time. "I don't know what I'd do..." He starts, choosing his wording, "If I were to lose you, now I've found you."

Lydiere wraps her own arms about G'wain, comfortably leaning in to his hug, hands moving through his hair. "Of course not. Flights happen. That's just part of our lives, something we can't change." Snuggling, she adds, "Nor could any compare to you, although Faranth knows I've few enough examples to compare to." And happy with that fact, thank you very much. "You're not going to, so don't even think about it. I'm not going anywhere."

G'wain holds Lydiere close to him, breating her in. She's just so... intoxicating. But that's not really what's on his mind at the moment. "I know they do... But I can't help feeling guilty. Do you... want... more examples?" He asks, softly, considering. He really only wants her to be happy. "I can't help but think that I might have to be transferred, or you might, or something might happen, or..." Ahreluth's the planner, not G'wain.

Lydiere's a drug, and we all know it. She rests her head down upon G'wain's shoulder, arms still tightly wrapped about him. "Want more examples? Of what? -- Don't feel guilty. For fardles sake. Because then I'll feel obligated to feel guilty of Llysereth's next flight isn't won by Ahreluth, and I don't want to do that." She smoothes her hand down G'wain's back, adding, "Don't stress about it. If something happens, we'll work around it. Promise."

G'wain rests his own head on Lydiere's shoulder, quite happy to stay like that until the end of time. Or at least until they ring the dinnerbell. "I won't, then." He says, but he still will. It's just in his nature. It almost feels like cheating, to him, even though he has almost no control over it. "I know we'll work around it... Thankyou." She's allayed most of his fears, and all with a hug and some words.

Lydiere tilts G'wain's head up for a kiss - just a quick one, mind, and nothing a young child would be embarrassed to come across - and then returns to her own comfortable leaning, retorting, "You will. But try and do it a little less, if you please. I don't want you worrying yourself every time, because I'm /not/ worried. And of course we'll work around it. If we didn't, we wouldn't stay together." Horrible thought.

Ok then, Words, a hug, and a quick kiss. But only a quick one? Aww. Still, G'wain takes what he can get, still holding onto Lydiere. "No matter what I do, I'm still holdbred. Maybe it'll train itself out, eventually. I can't lie... I still worry if Ahreluth should win, but not as much as I would before." Wouldn't stay together? That's almost unfathomable, to G'wain. "I know. I'd just make myself so much of a nusiance, they'd send me back. How about that. That is, if I was transferred." Which is entirely possible, with this new wing idea - He may have to go to Xanadu, soon, for a while. "We'll worry about that if it happens, though."

Lydiere doesn't want to traumatise anyone, after all. A non-quick kiss might scare the weyrlings, or something. "It's something that's hard to get away from, sometimes, I think," she agrees, "Being holdbred. I mean--I'm weyrborn, holdbred, so I suppose I've got it better than most, and I can understand that. -- I hope he does win. For his sake, if not yours." Her nose wrinkles, as she mutters, "If you get transfered, I'd go with you. No hesitation. So Lymera might manage to make anyone rethink it. J'ran can send someone else." And that's that.

Standing off to the side of the bowl, Lydiere and G'wain are just standing there hugging with their heads resting on the other's shoulders, talking quietly. Might traumatise Rianna, if that was anymore of a kiss. "Maybe, yes - I still don't understand some Weyr politics, and who answers to who... But I learn more each day." With a sigh, he smiles. "Thankyou."

"Oh, there's no need to understand them," retorts Lydiere, pulling away with a laugh. "But most people try and stear clear of Lymera's wrath, and I don't think she'd like losing her single junior." Her grin turns into a grimace, Llysereth, high up on the ledge, issuing a bellow. "Bah. Speaking of Lymera, she needs to speak to me. I--I'll see you later?"

Phewy. Rianna has no care for any of that 'mushy' stuff anyhow. Where are all the real men? With a sigh, the blonde rider politely nods towards G'wain and Lydiere, eyes of azure soon averting to the skies. A few rude mumblings flow from her mouth before she turns around and walks a few meters away and just stands there trying not to look over at the 'love birds'.

She knows she wants it. Yep. Lydiere just got the good one, first. "I will." He says, squeezing her arm lightly before she leaves, his eyes following her all the way. "I'm a lucky, lucky man..." He intones to o-one in paticular.

Lydiere squeezes back, as she pulls away properly, disappearing towards Lymera's Weyr. Oh - she's a lucky woman, herself.