Logs:Mutual Understandings
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 22 November, 2014 |
| Who: Gretvyn, Cron |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Even these two can find Common Ground |
| Where: Study, Esvay Hold, Nabol |
| When: Day 4, Month 5, Turn 36 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Edyis/Mentions, Greta/Mentions, Gerta/Mentions, R'hin/Mentions |
| The flicker of the firelight from the hearth casts strange shadows over the span of a small study, the air infused with the scent of wood and pipe smoke. Cron sits, almost at ease in one of the two overstuffed chairs placed by the hearth. Though it once held a chessboard, the table placed between those chairs is now relatively empty save for the herb box and the ledger books resting there. "I almost thought you were Cronall for a moment." Gretvyn's voice reaches as she sets a teacup and saucer down on the table beside him before availing herself of the other chair with a slight cough. "Strange I always hated the smell of that pipe, and yet just now I caught myself missing it." Dark eyes, so very like his mother's peer over to the woman, thick brow raising. "Considering the things you've said of him after he was dead, and burnt, I am surprised you miss anything at all." "I admit I have probably been freer with my thoughts since his passing. Even you can't deny that he was a difficult person to deal with, always measuring those around him to impossible standards. Still, I loved him I suppose in my fashion regardless." She tugs her shawl more tightly about her shoulders before lifting her cup to her lips. "You are a great deal like him though." Cron snorts at that, "Undoubtedly you mean that as an insult. You always were good at twisting words. Perhaps that's where my sister got it from." He finally sets aside the pipe to drink from his cup. "On the contrary, he was a good man to most who knew him. It was only as a patriarch that he struggled. Perhaps it was that the silly dream passed down through the generations before him. The goal of turning Esvay into a hold that could one-day stand on equal footing with Nabol or Crom." She glances over studying her stepson over the rim of a teacup. "That kind of pressure enforced at an early age can twist a person's expectations unrealistically. Drive him to take unnecessary risks, or expect others to do just as he has done." "A thinly disguised lecture on my gambling issues." Unable to veil the growl of irritation that seeps into his words. "You and her, acting like she's some damned martyr. She could have easily come back and married respectably. She should have come back instead of traipsing all over Pern like some wild woman." In the face of irritation and potential conflict Gretvyn does what any sensible woman in her position would. She laughs. "You are just mad that a nineteen-year-old girl got the better of you. Though I must admit, I was a little concerned. You had been getting better I thought." "I could say the same of you; I'm not so ignorant as to have missed the signs, nor that visit by the healer. You are getting worse." He states baldly, a pointed look at the woman. "It's nothing I can't manage at the moment with those vile tonics; I still have a few scores to settle before I will let you put me to the pyre." She replies sardonically. "Gretvyn, we may not get along particularly well, but I don't wish for you to die on me, Esvay would be a mess without you. Even I am not so proud as to not see that." He replies with a furrowing of his brows. "Stop being so grim. The healers have known for some time that my lungs aren't what they should be; knowing that, do you think I would just sit idle and twiddle my thumbs? Why do you think I pushed the issue of the girls going to the Hall and Giorgee living with my brother? Why do you think I looked into the people who have looked after Edyis at the weyr?" She coughs and takes a moment to catch her breath again. "They need to be able to rely on themselves. That's why news of you gambling again is so concerning. You are still family even if you are an idiot, and act like a teenager. You need to be able to look after yourself too." The unease in the man's expression is difficult to miss. "I have been perfectly capable of such on my own; I don't need mothering from a woman who is only a few years older than myself." "I've never tried to be your mother you big idiot. I just mean to keep my promise to the woman who was your mother." She rises from her seat. "Just don't gamble with your future again, consider it a dying woman's wish if you like. Don't make a big deal of my illness either, the kids all have things they need to focus on right now so they can stand on their own. I don't want to distract them from it." There's something painful in Cron's expression as he watches her, but he does finally nod. "I promise." |
Leave A Comment