Homecoming: Aleda & G'tet; P'nset & Rosie

[Omnia Munda]

It was not what J'fel wanted to hear, and Aleda was no more into her explanation than describing the threat fought by dragonriders the ancient sky when the weyrleader turned around to pour two brandies more. Of them, one was short; the other matched Aleda's, and when J'fel turned back to the table it was that more generous pour he handed over to G'tet. Then he stood there with his own glass raised, its rim resting against the tip of his chin, and stared balefully at the Caminar woman while she explained the rest.

They saw M'tani, he thought, and banished the thought just as quickly. Plague. A ship that brought the plague. His memory was hazy on this bit of history, or he was feeling such strain that he couldn't make proper use of his powers of recall. His brows furrowed in frustration and his lips pursed prettily.

"So... in this time you... visited." The brows went back up, making the boy weyrleader's expression seem startled even at hearing his own voice form such implausible words. "You stopped one of the expedition ships...? You stopped... the expedition?"

The muscles around his eyes tightened. Even saying it, J'fel was sure he didn't quite have it right. "Thread was falling," he tried again, feeling a little like a Harper investigator at the scene of some complicated misdeed. "You stopped an expedition that happened before the expedition."

Oh, Faranth's tits, he thought, and raised his free hand to his temple to ward off the headache still knocking there. "And the woman and the brownrider are from there." Crap.

[Invisible]

While Aleda talked G’tet listened and checked things with Kalpeth. She was on her second herdbeast, quite the meal for her to eat two at once, and settling down now that the pangs of hunger were not overwhelming. I showed them the picture I was given she tells G’tet in answer to a question. All of them. All of them! The green was agitated and clawed off the leg of the herdbeast to gnaw on with renewed vigor. “Sir,” G’tet says once Aleda is done. “Kalpeth assures me that she showed the picture given to her to all that came with us, sir.” And one extra brown. He didn’t say that.

G’tet stared at J’fel not making sense of what the weyrleader was saying. Then in an instant it hit him and he looked at Aleda. “We changed it,” he told her with a grin. “It never happened. He doesn’t remember. But if it never happened then how- Shards. I can’t think on it all.” Instead he took the brandy and knocked it back to set down an empty glass. Then he looked at J’fel again and started from the beginning.

“You summoned us all, sir, and told us we would be stopping Moreta’s plague. It decimated all of Pern, sir. Left hold, hall, and weyr desperate for people before a cure was found. A cure was found, but it changed so much, sir. You sent us back to stop the plague and we did. We found the ship that had been blown off course and had returned with a strange beast. I don’t know what expedition you speak of. What I remember is that a single ship’s bad luck nearly destroyed Pern.”

And the woman and the brownrider. “M’sella, yes, sir. He is from there. But Rosie…Rosie is not…I am not sure about her, sir. She is from here only she was there only older. I don’t understand, sir. But the good news is if that’s the case there’s no way the Caminar did this. We can let the holds know they are not to blame.” He would be a hero to Aleda and be thanked properly. Oh, well, maybe he shouldn’t say that even if he did give Aleda a glance from the corner of his eye and a quick wink.

[Alsivor]

At first Aleda was flummoxed by J'fel's confusion and she took a healthy swig from her glass as he spoke in fragments trying to puzzle things together. G'tet's exclamation clarified things though and she lifted a hand to her forehead. Trying to reconcile all these threads of history, it was exactly as she'd thought as they left. Things had changed. But what? And how much? Was her family even still here? Clearly there were Caminar in the Bowl but --

She clamped down on that train of thought and focused on the here and now, nodding along with what G'tet said. "So it is, we have changed things and what we remember never happened," she said softly, eyes a little wide. "No plague. And something else happened instead, this expedition I suppose, of which you speak."

The sabedoria slid a look sidelong at G'tet. Perhaps this would clear the Caminar. Perhaps. But it wouldn't change age-old attitudes unless those /had/ actually changed because of a green tail whacking the side of a ship. She sighed softly and pressed fingers into her temples. Too much information bouncing around in her head. She longed for the peace of her wagon, a cup of tea and perhaps ... perhaps some company later.

[Xinnai]

They came out over the weyr and M'sella's breath was stolen. It was cold, even through his riding gear, meant for for the icy bitterness of between. He couldn't think of why it'd be cold. It had been summer just before, a hot and sweaty summer when shirtsleeves were rolled back and men sweated even within the stony confines of the weyr.

The Igenite inhaled deeply, the fingers gripped upon his brown's ridges reverberating with chill. There was the tang of that cold in the air, a slap across the face that spoke of whistling winds and snow. Snow? Was it even possible? Apparently so.

M'sella huddled within his riding vest and jacket, his southern blood shrinking back from that cold, craving the heat. Well, there was nothing to be done now. He was here...at Telgar. Whenever their Telgar was. His head ached at the thought.

Mine...We are told to go see the weyrleader in an hour. We have our pick of guest weyrs until then.[/color] Josteth eyed his rider over his chocolatey shoulder, rainbow eyes whirling.
M'sella nodded, patting at the brown's shoulder briskly. All right then. We'll do as asked. I'll get cleaned off and go then. Lemme down, will ya?

The Igenite pair landed and the human of the two jumped from the draconic. M'sella hauled a few bags from his dragon, throwing them over his shoulders. All his wordly possessions, fit into two bags.

Josteth paused, head cocked, listening to Kalpeth's words. He felt vaguely happy for the green's attentions and replied as his rider walked off, to find his way to the guest weyrs to make himself up for his appearance before Telgar's weyrleader. What was his name? It had been M'tani in his time...And now?

I would like to, of course. He joined the green and was soon feasting upon a fat buck, extremely content for this change in luck. A new home, no Thread and a meal at his claws. It was going well. So far.

[Invisible]

Things had changed and G’tet worried what some of those things might have been. Until now he had figured it was all just a lark. Some grand adventure, but returning home and finding out he had directly changed not just his life but everyone’s? That was too much for the young greenrider and he slumped in his chair. He looked at Aleda again and under the table reached for her hand. This was crazy. He wanted a drink in his weyr. To see his sister again. And to sleep for about a seven. Kalpeth? Have you found Genet yet? Did one of them know where she was?

Recalled to her task after becoming distracted licking talons clean Kalpeth shot her words to G’tet wrapped in excitement. I have spoken to Anquilith, G’tet. She says Genet is fine, but confused this morning. But happy to know you are here. She says the weyrlingmaster will give her the night off to visit. The green considers if that was all and then adds And she asks if you would like to invite Aleda and her brother as they will want to catch up as well.

In the council room G’tet forgot what was going on as he heard Kalpeth’s words. He blinked and grinned slowly. Genet impressed? My baby twin the new junior weyrwoman? He never would have thought she had it in her truth be told. Genet. A weyrwoman. Amazing. But all thoughts of amazement were squashed when Kalpeth said Weyrwoman? Since when are greens leaders of anything, G’tet? You’ve been between too long. Now G’tet shot straight up in his chair and looked at Aleda and then J’fel.

“Sir? Sir what…the hatching, sir. What happened? My sister? Kalpeth is telling me some tale- What happened, sir?” Forget the mission. Forget the woman at his side. Forget that he would never dream of demanding answers from his weyrleader. He was doing all this now. “It’s not possible, sir. She says Genet impressed to-“ Anquilith Kalpeth supplied smugly. “Anquilith, sir. But… green? It’s not possible. Girls don’t impress to fighting dragons.” And somewhere through all that he managed an almost amused aside to Aleda of, “Your brother knows my sister. Or the other way around.” But mostly the time traveling greenrider was stunned. His sister. A greenrider? It wasn’t possible!

[Alsivor]

So much to take in. So much. Aleda's fingers slipped between G'tet's as he reached for her hand under the table and she squeezed gently, offering her own trembling reassurance though her head was spinning. The greenrider's next words just made her mind blank out for a moment. Genet? A woman on green? Her brother? What?

More brandy seemed wise. The whole rest of the glass in fact.

[Omnia Munda]

I did what, J'fel thought, and a sharp look at G'tet accompanied the thinking - but the weyrleader had gained enough sense of himself, enough awareness of the wrong being laid out before him, to hold his tongue this time.

"No," he said, at length. "I don't remember."

But he remembered such a confusion of things now. Suddenly even wearier than before, Jordeth's rider handed a chair away from the table and sank into it. "P'nset will bring this Rosie to me soon, and I will question this M'sella. For now - "

He was staring into his brandy when the questions started coming toward him, and the young weyrleader's gaze lifted unwillingly, brows lowering. When he spoke, it was slowly, very slowly, as though it were a simpleton he spoke to. "Most girls don't," he said, each syllable equal in emphasis, each morpheme formed with perfect precision. "But some do. You remember Eideen." Or you don't, thought J'fel, and tried to convey with the seriousness of his stare that he expected G'tet to bloody well try.

From the corner of his eye he noted Aleda draining her glass and waved a hand at the flagon from which she might choose to refill her drink. "The Southern Expedition. A disaster early in the Interval, before any of us were born. Two hundred people, two ships, four riders and their dragons - I should remember some names from my harper lessons, but I'm finding my history is a little strained at the moment."

He had not forgotten that the Caminar woman was lovely. His smile, wan and dry as it was, lingered; his lashes caged his gaze as long as he looked at her. But in a moment he did look away, back to G'tet. Business must be done.

"Telgar has a woman in the fighting wings and in a turn and some will have two more," he explained, grim-mouthed once more. "Count yourself lucky if the old ways are your preference: Fort has twelve and two."

[Alsivor]

He doesn't remember.

That one thought swam up above all the rest, though that sidenote of G'tet's about his sister and her brother poked its head up now and then too. She knew her brother too well to think that an /innocent/ knowing.

He doesn't remember.

What other things had people forgotten? What other things had changed? What about the Caminar? Aleda's eyes lifted from her empty glass and she licked clinging drops of brandy from her lips. She had to know, to find out. Had her people changed? Whispers of hope in her brain, hope about not being a caged thing any longer, hope for the easing of the relentless pressure to bind herself to one man for the sake of family.

He doesn't remember.

She shot the Weyrleader a cocky smile and slipped out of her seat, went for the flagon, filled up her glass and drank deep. It was G'tet she returned to though, settling back into the chair near where he was. "Much has changed, from one tiny flick of a green's tail," she murmured in summation and looked up at Kalpeth's rider, then back over at J'fel.

"Have you any more questions of me, sir? I should like to see how my family fares in this new history we have made."

[Invisible]

“I apologize, sir,” G’tet stammered out as he ducked his head away from the weyrleader. “I did not mean to speak out of turn.” What had he been thinking? He was very confused now and it was making him speak before thinking an action he took pains not to do. “It is just a shock, sir. In the place we came from, here…only not. Well, there was no such thing as a woman riding any but a gold.” The thought settled in some and he found a grin splitting his face. “Although I should have known. Genet’s no weyrwoman.” He tried to place this Eideen, but couldn’t. He would have to seek her out and get to know her. Girl or no greenriders had to stick together.

What the greenrider wanted was a stiff drink, but not in J’fel’s company. Aleda, perhaps, after she’d seen her family. Or just that nap he’d been craving. “Sir? Where did you tell people you were sending us?” He traded another glance with Aleda. They would need this information in dealing with those who had missed them. G’tet winced to think what S’lyn would have to say about his being gone so long. “What should we say, sir?” If the question was almost plaintive he would have to be forgiven. If J’fel thought he was having trouble he should be in G’tet’s brain right now. One tiny flick indeed Kalpeth sent to G’tet with a mental snort. It took decidedly more than one tiny flick. The indignant green wanted her ledge and a nap, but settled for removing herself to outside the council chamber to await her rider’s return.

“Kalpeth says it was more than a tiny flick of her tail,” G’tet points out to the Caminar in the council room with a good natured grin. Things had changed, but he was still G’tet and his green was still Kalpeth. The rest could be sorted out later. Like Genet. He wondered if she was ok and if he might be allowed to see her now.

[Omnia Munda]

"Perhaps she would have been," J'fel told G'tet, but the words had the airy confidence of rehearsal: he'd said something similar to other girls' relatives before, possibly several times. When he held up a hand to pray a moment more of Aleda's patience, its manner was much the same.

They have no idea, thought the weyrleader, his brows drawing tight like a purse's strings. Creases that didn't suit his young features crept into being around his eyes. "You were sent to investigate the lost children," he said, softly, letting the hand he'd raised for Aleda's waitfulness drift lightly to the rim of his glass, which he then put down upon the table. "The sabedoria went with you for security, propriety and appearance."

He was not quite so wearied that he was kept from a hint of wry intonation on those three words, but overall they were dread serious. As was: "I have asked that P'nset bring this girl you retrieved here to me. If you should see them, please reiterate my request."

J'fel put one hand down on the table beside his glass, his slim fingers bridged on the glossy surface, and reached out his other hand to the rider and the Caminar, clasps for each or either of them offered as farewell and congratulations for now. "Thank you for - whatever it is you've done," he said. "When Telgar knows better how to repay you, it will."

[Invisible]

"No, no, sir," G'tet said with a grin. "She's no weyrwoman. I think this'll suit her fine. I just need to get used to it." The idea wasn't so odd now that he'd had a few minutes to digest it. Really, a green suited his twin. After all one had suited him just fine. The idea was pleasing to G'tet.

At the mention of the missing children G'tet couldn't help a near grin. "Well, I think we found one anyway." His shoulders shrugged and then he rose from his chair and held his hand out for Aleda.

"I cannot speak for anyone else, sir, but I was doing my duty to my Weyr. I require nothing for doing that." Fame in his own mind was pretty nice. That and getting to know Aleda better. All in all G'tet considered himself well paid. He would wait for Aleda and then escort her out so J'fel might get on with it.

[neopanther]

Sarjenth ascended the Weyr until vaguely in line with that of the Weyrleader.
My duties Jordeth, my bond and his traveller are here at yours request. The brown hailed.
P’nset, aboard the brown took a deep breath, breeze toying idly at untied raven hair, it had grown perhaps a little scragglier than usual, he would have to find time to cut it, but he could for see nothing but meetings of this sort, confusion and changes to boot. He turned to Rosie, He hoped and prayed that she wouldn’t do or say something that she should not.
“Rosie, not that I mean to sound derogatory, but for my peace of mind, treat him with respect, do not be too shocked about his age, he was less than twenty turns when I left.” He left a sense of Leigh-way to that, “J’fel is our Weyrleader, bonded of the bronze Jordeth, he caught our queen Pelegaoth, who was S’lyn’s weyrmate before that.” He paused, “I only enlighten you so you do not make comment out of line and earn yourself disfavour towards our leader, I would not like to see such an atrocity happen to one as jovial as yourself.” He explained – almost wittering on to himself now. As was consequence off the solitude upon which he kept for himself.
I think it is best that we just play this from our ears P’nset, for there is nothing we can do, things have changes as a concurrent of Kalpeth and G’tet’s actions. Transcending this will be our greatest ordeal.
I understand that well Sarjenth, I just hope this ordeal is not our undoing. The world has gone topsy-turvy, green riders in my wing, who are off incorrect gender, what will be next? Shards for all we know, J’fel could be S’lyn, and vice versa. This pern is not that which we left behind Sarjenth.
Clearly not.[/i]

[Omnia Munda]

Jordeth was pacing upon the low ledge that adjoined the queens' weyrs, but took a position to the side to allow Sarjenth some comfort and his rider due access to the complex of the weyrleaders' chambers within. P'nset would find the man's personal weyr empty and the weyrwoman nowhere to be seen, but in the council chamber J'fel waited for his latest guest, his farewells to G'tet and Aleda duly said. Wordlessly, Jordeth sent appropriate instruction to Sarjenth, an image in still focus of the council chamber where his rider expected them.

Within that chamber, the weyrleader poured new glasses of brandy and again looked up at M'tani's portrait. It was only the voices he heard without that coaxed him back to attention, ready to face another in the day's already long-seeming series of strange events.

---

Rosie had followed the brownrider this far in silence. Of course as long as they were astride Sarjenth she had no choice, but once they were down from the brown it seemed much as though she had no fight left in her, nothing with which she might protest. But this seeming was not perfectly true. When she said, "Pfft. I can curtsey to a weyrleader, I promise," her tone contained a dismissive amusement. "And I'm less than twenty turns myself, or have you forgotten my looks already?"

Not that he'd ever commented on her looks. They were fine enough, freckles and masses of wavy brown hair, curves and so forth. Just now those curves were accentuated by Rosie's arms crossed tight across her ribs, as though she hugged herself, and her eyes were wide. The sass was all bluff. "Well, are we going? I don't know the way, for sure. You'd better lead."

Her accent grew stronger as she convinced herself she was in control, so what she'd just said sounded a great deal like, 'We're gone? I dunno thway, sha. You bet lead."

Hopefully P'nset would get the gist.

[neopanther]

Sarjenth gave a vocal noise of agreement as he tucked his left wing a little, moving his weight back through his body, sending himself banking sideways and rather backwards, Sarjenth opened his wings full and settled to a decline towards the bowl again, angling himself as close to the entryways to the chambers of council.

It seems there is a change, we are not meeting the Weyrleader in the weyr of his own, but the council chambers.[/i] The brown neglected to tell his bonded whom he seen hanging, in all of his gruff glory upon the walls that used to be blank.

P’nset accepted the words of his bonded, and refocused upon those Rosie gave, “You’re less than twenty yourself? Shards now I do feel old.” The last part was said again to himself, he hated being such an age, surrounded by those nearly half his age. He gave a mirthless laugh as she commented on her looks, he shot a glance sideways at her before he too dismounted, and set off towards the council chambers, “I don’t believe I commented on them before,” not that she’d remember he followed thinking to himself.

“And yes, yes, I’ll lead, just follow me.” He beckoned to her as he led into one of the entryways and into the catacomb like trails that existed on the inside of the weyr. Luckily he was used to much thicker accents than hers in his time.

[Omnia Munda]

Rosie's eyes rolled skyward, but further attempts to be jovial with the brownrider were not forthcoming. She put her hand on his elbow and chased him through the halls and passageways, past portraits of weyrleaders and weyrwomen, and at last into the broad but shallow room that held the long council table over which M'tani's stern countenance hung.

J'fel was standing below it. Before him on the table were two glasses, two-thumbs-full each of brandy by the color, and between them the half-empty cut-glass flask from which they'd surely been filled. He held a third glass with half as much brandy in it as the others; of course, he'd likely had a head start, meeting with Aleda and G'tet first.

"P'nset," said the weyrleader, and for a moment seemed as old and grave as the enormous face glaring down from behind and above him. His back was stiff and the salute he gave the other rider was a formal one, like to a soldier come home. After that, however, J'fel's mouth curved a more familiar smile and his features softened, tired as they might be. "It's good to have you home."

And then he turned his gaze upon the girl who stood beside the brownrider. He could see it, what G'tet had said - though he had to work a bit to pick out the picture of S'gur in his mind, standing in this same room months ago when he'd given the group their marching orders. (Marching orders to what? Recover missing children or to travel in time to stop a plague that never happened? J'fel discarded that line of thought for now.)

"Rosie," said J'fel, taking trouble to sound kindly. "Will you excuse us for a moment? I'd like to talk to you a little longer, but I must get P'nset squared away first."

The girl curtseyed, flashed P'nset a quick 'I told you I had manners' smirk from the corners of her eyes, and withdrew, leaving J'fel to regard his brownrider a little more thoughtfully.

After a moment he picked up a brandy, leaned forward over the table and offered it to the other man. "So, as you see it - what happened?"