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.

06-11-02: Time to go
Lydiere's unhappiness comes to a head, when she asks - with regret - G'wain to move out.

Lydiere's footsteps echo as she ascends the staircase from the cavern below, the dull slapping of hides against her thighs a staccato beat to match it. She hesitates at the top of the steps, as if deliberating something, then offers a monosyllabic greeting to the weyr in general -- or perhaps that's just a grunt. The hides are slapped down upon the table, her boots shucked off without pause to unlace them.

G'wain sits crosslegged in a chair, his fingers tapping out a rhythm on his knee as he reads over a hide. Without looking up to acknowledge her presence, he starts to speak. "I like this group of candidates. I wonder where they'll all end up? I've been considering some for my wing, and I don't know if I'm being too elitist about it. I'd like In've, and perhaps... I don't know... A'reri. She can help with visuals, perhaps. I don't know." There's no 'how are you', or 'how was your day', though the way he speaks, it's not like he forgot them...

Automatically, Lydiere's response relates to business. "But could you actually work with In've, when he's so much you friend? Better let Angelyka take him, so that you're not biased towards him, and the work he does." Having said this, her face contorts slightly, as if she's wincing. Still, rather than say anything, she turns away, pacing across the other side of the room as she pulls the hem of her shirt out from her breeches. "Llysah's with the nannies for the night," she comments.

G'wain blinks at what comes from Lydiere. "Perhaps it's because he's my friend that I could work well with him. He's got a strong streak of duty, so there won't be a problem with orders. Not that I've seen him in a while, I guess." He shrugs. Can't be helped. "Ahh, that's good then." He still hasn't looked up from the hide that he's reading, which by the looks of it, looks like stats and comments on the recently graduated weyrlings. Brow furrowing, he looks closer, as if this is going to help him figure things out.

"Would you be able to work with /me/? Probably not. If you had to tell him off about anything, you'd have trouble. That's why it's best to have people you trust, and like, but aren't best friends with." Lydiere sighs, as she says this, slumping down on the bed, her legs stretched out in front of her. "We need to talk."

G'wain finally looks up from the hide, and tilts his head to the side. "I've had to tell him off before, haven't I? I can't remember. I guess I'd cross that bridge when I came to it... But his heirarchical nature'd certainly help." A pause. "Talk about what?" His head cocked to the side, he doesn't really seem concerned at all. "Are you alright?"

Lydiere's unable to stop talking business, even when she's not - it seems to disconcert her, and shows in her face, and her posture. She's uncomfortable. "Never easy, though. To tell someone off when they're your friend." Again, her face contorts. "Oh, fardles. Yes, we need to talk. About... us. You. Me. /This/." This what?

This what, indeed. "This... what?" G'wain seems a little confused, as always. Poor naive G'wain. Well, not so naive when it comes to other things, but when it comes to something new, something that he hasn't really experienced before... He shows concern at her facial expression, and moves to stand, shaking his legs a little to put the feeling back into them. A rueful smile explains, "Fell asleep. What's wrong, Lyd?"

Lydiere sighs, and though her expression is almost repentent, she continues on undaunted. "You haven't noticed, and that, in itself, is probably part of the problem. I can't think anymore. We're happily weyrmated couple who hardly even say hello to each other when we get home of an evening. Who hardly talk about anything but work, or the kids, or plans for some retirement somewhere many turns in the future."

G'wain looks back down at the hide, his plans to move to the bed shot to pieces. He'll just stay where he is now. "Oh." That's all that he can say at the moment. That is, until something else occurs to him, and he opens his mouth... only to close it. "You're... right." Now that it's been brought to light, he sighs. "Sorry. It's just that I've been so busy with the wing of late, and I've been getting in late.. I'll make more of an effort." Problem solved... right?

Lydiere shakes her head, turning her gaze away, as though she just can't look at him. Or face up to him. "I don't know if that's enough," she says, simply. She's dreading this, of course, but it's been coming for ages - she's known, even if he hasn't.

G'wain isn't doing it on purpose... but it probably looks like he's making her out to be a bad guy. "Just tell me what I can do, Lyd..." The hide has been placed on the table beside the chair. "What would be enough?" He looks genuinely concerned. He's not making this easy, not in the least.

Lydiere can't stand it anymore, and stands up again, pacing, back and forth across the weyr, her fingers twining together in a most uncomfortable, un-Lydiere-like fashion. "I need space. I need-- we need to give each other some space." She bites at her lip, as she turns back around, hopefully to face G'wain though she's talking before she's finished moving. "I love you like anything, and that has nothing to do with this, but I don't know if I need this kind of relationship right now. Always having each other here, around, taking each other for granted."

Wow. Like... Ouch. Or something. "B.. bu.." The ability to form a coherent sentence has fled G'wain, at least for about a minute. Coming back to him, it is put into use. "I love you.." As if that's supposed to fix everything, make it right, and put things back to normal. His eyes plead. "I'm sorry for taking you for granted..."

Lydiere's not precisely thrilled about what she just said either, to be absolutely honest - and the pleading eyes only serve to make her turn away. "I know you do. And as I said, I love you, too. I won't stop. Not for anything. But." There's always a but. "I want to move out, for a while. Or for you to move out. Or both of us, to different places. For the moment. And it isn't breaking up. I don't want you out of my life. Not at all." Her own eyes, as she turns back - again - are equally pleading. "Don't make this so hard. It's hard enough already."

Maybe he's being melodramatic, or something, but that sheen over his eyes can't be what you think it is... can it? "I..." He's gobsmacked. "You know I'd do anything for you..." He casually wipes at his eyes as he stands. "I'll... I'll move out. But... what about Llysah?" He's a little too 'speechless' to put up too much of a fight, but if he did, it'd probably make her even more miserable. "W..what did I do wrong?"

[DTU/Project] Llysereth senses that Ahreluth's mind seems strained as he makes contact with Llysereth. << G'wain is closed to me... He's in pain. What's going on? >> The questions are quite abrupt for the dragon, who generally likes to be more oblique about his questions, if not wordy.

Lydiere doesn't want to see that -- though she can't look away, not again, and stands uncomfortably, finger still fiddling. Fiddle, fiddle, fiddle. "Nothing," she promises, quickly, ignoring the other comments to start with. "Nothing at all. It's not you. It's-- me, I think, and that's why I need to fix it. There's too many responsibilities, and keeping up a happily weyrmated relationship with you is another one, and one that's been dropped for all the others. We can start again. But not yet. Llysah-- well, she'll be here sometimes, there sometimes. It'll work."

[DTU/Project] Ahreluth senses that Llysereth's concerned, the soft breezes of her mind whipping and wailing-- though her voice, itself, is calm. << You're moving out, >> she states, quietly. << You and he. For now. >>

"No... it probably won't." He states this with almost-certainty. "At least where Llysah is concerned. I'm... not that good a parent. And it's not just you. It's got to be me too, if it's both of us..." Is he making any sense. "As long as I get to visit her." That last isn't really a question. He won't be denied that. Never. "I... I'll get my things. I think my old ledge is still there." And G'wain starts to bustle. Moving around, here, there... collecting things, finding a basket to put them in... Anything to stop himself from thinking.

[DTU/Project] Llysereth senses that Ahreluth just... accepts this, for some strange reason. << Oh. Alright. >> Perhaps he'll get a better explanation from G'wain later, perhaps not. Llysereth seems so calm, so reasonable. What she says must be right, mustn't it?

"You are, too," retorts Lydiere, going back to her pacing, if only so that she doesn't have to watch G'wain as he does his packing. "She adores you." She adores almost everyone, of course, but that's beyond the point. "Of course. Any time. She's your child, as much as mine. And-- well, who knows. It may only be a few months." She doesn't know. It could be never. "It's both of us then. Maybe. I don't know. It's confusing, and I hate this."

[DTU/Project] Ahreluth senses that Llysereth, indeed, seems surprised by it, though she refrains from querying. << You'll visit, >> she promises, << Or I will. Often. >>

There's no response from G'wain at this, as he continues to collect things. There's suprisingly little that is actually his, here... Maybe a chair would be the biggest thing, the rest able to be put into a large basket that he's found, the one that usually holds the laundry. "I'll... see you later..." And he doesn't stalk, but his pace is quickened as he leaves the Weyr, heading towards Ahreluth.

[DTU/Project] Llysereth senses that Ahreluth mind is occupied, but one might figure that his acceptance is part of G'wain's want to just get out of there. Anything more would draw it out. << G'wain says we need to leave... Now. >>

Lydiere opens her mouth to say something - anything, really, but it doesn't come out. Finally, she all but murmurs, "Soon. I'll see you soon. We'll visit. And talk. And--" The last words are mouthed, nothing more: I'm sorry. She takes a deep breath, as he goes, then, solemnly, turns towards the dresser and begins to pack her own things. Perhaps the big weyr is just too big, and too full of memories.

[DTU/Project] Ahreluth senses that Llysereth accepts this, though there's worry - greyed and nervous - to her touch, a reluctant shiver. << Yes, of course. I-- good luck. >>

Llysereth> G'wain enters the Ledge area, trying to hide his face from Llysereth. Not that it matters either way, that fact that he's trying to hide it signifies something. Love hurts? Rejection hurts? G'wain hurts exponentially. Grabbing the dragon's straps, he doesn't bother to put them on, just using them to crudely tie the basket to the dragon, before mounting. Ahreluth stirs, and as he lifts from the ledge, offers in parting, << You too. >>

Llysereth> Llysereth watches, eyes whirling - touched in red. She'll miss his being there. << Farewell! >> In the weyr, the continued sounds of packing can be heard. And perhaps that was a sob. It's hard to tell.

Llysereth> Ahreluth pushes against the surface of the ledge shared by Llysereth and Ahreluth, lifting up into the sky above by a snap of his wings.