January 9, 2003
R'hyn spills news to Shiae that isn't quite what she expected to hear.

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The records rooms stretch away in all directions, gloomy despite the valiant efforts of glows set at intervals along the walls and shelves. The Weyrsecond has claimed an island of light for herself, four glows set out at the edges of her workspace: one of the tables in the entrance to the cavern. "/That's/ not right," she can be heard to mutter, scowling at the hides as if they've personally offended her. "Now -where- did I see...?"

R'hyn's just entering from the passage, expression woeful: hides. Joy. He picks up the first hide that comes to hand and offers, in a voice just the tiniest bit above a whisper, "Is it this one? Because if it is, it would be one of those freakish things that gets written about, but never happens to anyone real. Though," he adds, peering at it, "I'm almost certain you're not looking for the birthing records of Turn 47, Pass 6. I wonder what it's doing over here."

Shiae yelps at the vocal intrusion, however subdued, and her quill takes the opportunity to drop from her hand and scuttle under her chair. "Aie! Oh, oh /shells/, sir, don't /do/ that." She takes the hide from him nonetheless. "The, the -birthing- records...? What was /that/ doing there?"

Immediately, R'hyn's entire face becomes an act of contrition in it's own right, and he ducks his head apologetically. "Sorry, Shiae. And, uh-- drop the sir? Please?" He lets go of the hide, shoulders shrugging; "Someone's been in here who shouldn't have, perhaps. Or maybe it was being used as a bookmark." His expression indicates his own disbelief at these answers.

Shiae says "Sorry.. ahem. R'hyn." She bends to retrieve her quill, straightens as she adds, "I'm almost done working on the formation compiliation you asked for - you /did/ want it today -after- noon, right?"

R'hyn clutches his fingers together, behind his back, fiddling - always fiddling. "Uh, wha--? Oh! Yes. After noon is fine. It's not such a big rush. Uhm," he adds, hesitating a moment. "There's going to be some new formations hides coming in. We've a transfer rider, and he offered his-- expertise on the subject."

Shiae sags back into her chair, blowing a strand of hair off her face. "/More/ formations...? Oh shells, all right. What, did Alyssa send somebody to rooting out the records at Fort? Don't tell me -this- lot is going to be all moldy and 'snake eaten like the last ones! They were barely readable."

"No. It's-- someone you'd know. Quite well, in fact. He's been at Igen," says R'hyn, blandly. "I believe they're mostly his own work, so reasonably new. I mean, I assume. I haven't seen them yet."

Shiae immediately lifts her hands, fingers spread, to ward off whoever-it-is. "-Oh- no. /Oh/ no. R'hyn, Belena might be crazy enough to tap Y'nis as one of her assistants, but there's /no/ way he could... I mean, have you /seen/ his handwriting??"

R'hyn blinks, frowning. "What? I have no-- it's A'son. A'son's back from Igen, and is handing over all his formations stuff. I don't know what it is he thinks is so special, but I said I'd take it. Diplomatic and all. He's in our wing."

Shiae will surely say something. In a minute or so. That's why her mouth is open. To say something. Any minute now.

Or perhaps she's fallen asleep. With her eyes wide like that, and her mouth hanging open. Yup, she's asleep.

Or maybe someone dropped a bag of firestone on her foot. She does kinda look like she's in pain. A little, anyway. She's stuck in the minute before it /really/ hurts.

"Oh dear," says R'hyn, always very good with the words. "I appear to have put my foot in it, haven't I?"

Shiae says "Aaahhh..."

R'hyn hesitates. "Uh, do you want to uh sit down or something? Uhm. Sorry."

Shiae already is sitting down, thank Faranth. She's all over that 'sit' thing. At least now she begins to blink, her mouth opening and closing like a fish's. She manages a few more strangled noises, but nothing truly intelligible.

R'hyn, master of saying stupid things. He's turned, in the meanwhile, brilliantly red, and looks at Shiae in concern. "We can move him to another wing, if you'd like - I mean, if you'd rather see him less rather than more. And... he did want to speak to you. Said there were things he needed to say. And--"

"Aahh... He... he... /what/?" She manages to recollect herself enough to lean over the table and push at one of the other chairs - silent invitation to sit. "Wh... A'/son/?"

R'hyn does indeed sit, silently - nervously. "Uh, yes. A'son. Aitanth's rider. Former Weyrleader. Said he missed home."

Shiae waits for you to sit before saying quietly, "Oh, shells." Which is quite a bit not at all like leaping into the air with joy. "Aitanth too?" As if A'son'd leave the big bronze beast behind.

"Um," says R'hyn. "So one assumes, though I haven't actually /seen/ Aitanth. Are-- are you okay?"

"Aeuryh," agrees Shiae, still looking like someone's dropped that bag of firestone. "It's... ahm... I... didn't... when did it happen?"

R'hyn lets his hands rest in front of him, fingers fiddling with each other nervously. "He arrived last night, without any warning. Found Serriena and I in the Living Caverns."

"When I was off at Keroon," Shiae says, as if to herself. "He's... what did he... wa, say?"

R'hyn allows his head to nod, as if by reflex. "Uhm. That he'd just decided it was time to come home. That it was good to be home. He asked after you, specifically."

Shiae slowly relaxes back into her chair, quill turning small circles in her fingers. "He did. He... what did you say?" Somewhere a shoe drops. "Serriena? Oh no..." She all but lunges forward, quill dropping from her fingers onto the table. "Tell me Mechelle wasn't there!"

"Oh no? Why oh no?" R'hyn looks worried. "We said you were still Weyrsecond. That you'd-- uhm, not been alone the whole time since he left," he flushes at this one; telling someone what you said about their lovelife - fun. "Uhm, no, she wasn't."

Shiae flushes as well - it's just like a mirror! "'Oh no I hope Mechelle wasn't there'," she clarifies, returning to her more relaxed seat. "If she was, I wouldn't get any rest." Whatever -that- means. "And he, um... what did he say?" About either still being Weyrsecond or having a lovelife she doesn't elaborate.

R'hyn frowns, as he attempts to remember. "He had someone, at Igen. But she's not following him here. And-- he didn't say much more, after that. Just that he needed to talk to you. Look," he adds, more quickly, "Are you sure that you're all right?"

Shiae musters up a smile - ragged and twitchy about the edges, but there - and declares, "I'm fine." Really. "It will be... um. I'm sure he'll have some um." There's a pause while she studies the air over your shoulder for her cue. "-Interesting- formations for us. To work on."

"It may take a little time," offers R'hyn, "But I'm sure we'll get used to his-- formations. And presence. I mean, eventually."

"Absolutely," Shiae agrees, with that smile firmly in place. Hasn't slipped an iota. "He'll, um." Regroup, try again. "I'm sure Ista will be uh, glad he's... back." Yes, that's it. Back.

R'hyn nods swiftly, managing a smile of his own. "Yes! And it'll be as if he never left at all." Pause. Wrinkle the brow. "Only not."

Now the Weyrsecond's smile does sag, just a fraction. "Oh shells, I hope not."

R'hyn recants, firmly. "No, definitely not. I mean, that wouldn't work. No, no. Quite different." Flush.

Shiae clears her throat and blows at that errant lock of hair once again. "I... did he say when he wanted to um, speak with me? Or.. um."

R'hyn shakes his head, apologetically. "No. I guess he just hasn't found you-- oh, no. Dragons. Uhm. I'm sure he'll do it soon. He said he had a lot of people to catch up with."

Shiae says "I'm sure," her delivery toneless. "Well, I, um. It certainly will be, um, different. With him. Back."

R'hyn grimaces slightly, then nods. "Guess so. I mean-- it's so sudden! It'll take time. To get used to the idea. Different. Not /bad/. But... Different." It's hard to know what R'hyn's real opinions are on the subject - if he even has any.

Shiae looks a bit green around the gills - or perhaps that's just the bad lighting. "It'll be different, all right. But nothing that the Weyr can't handle." The Weyr, indeed. Nothing about her personally.

"Oh, absolutely!" avers R'hyn, nodding his head quickly. "The Weyr will get through it. Like it has a lot of things. And be stronger for it, too, I bet."

Shiae nods sharply - just like a mirror! "Exactly."

R'hyn half-smiles, drawing himself to his feet. "And if not, we'll send him to Nerat as a Watchrider forever." He ducks his head, looks nervous a moment, then adds, "I, uh, should go get the hides I was after. Uhm. Yeah."

Shiae finally /does/ smile, an honest one. "Or send him to Fort. I'm sure Alyssa could use some... help." She gestures to her hides. "I'll have these to you after lunch, R'hyn. We can always adjust them for the new information later."

R'hyn's eyes light with brief amusement, and then, more sober, he nods. "Thanks, Shiae. See you then."

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