Logs:Of Children and the Future
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| RL Date: 18 June, 2006 |
| Who: L'sen, R'hin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| When: Day 28, Month 1, Turn 8 (Interval 10) |
| Your location's current time: 17:31 on day 31, month 1, Turn 58, of the Tenth Pass. It is a winter afternoon. You wing down to a quick landing on the Star Stones. You climb down Leiventh's side to the ground, using his foreleg as a step. Star Stones, High Reaches Weyr The Star Stones stand as a silent testament to the dangers Pern faces, as well as a call to action for the protectors of the planet: dragons and their riders. Erected in a time long past, the Star Stones fulfill their purpose only once every two-hundred turns: to pinpoint the start of Threadfall. The stones themselves seem rather plain: as you look across the plateau your eyes automatically focus on the largest of the stones: Finger Rock. On dawn of the winter solstice, Rukbat will appear to balance on the tip of Finger Rock. Almost a full two dragonlengths away from that rock is the Star Stone itself, an unimpressive piece of work: on it are two engraved arrows. One points east, to the Finger Rock, while the other points a little north of east, to the Eye Rock. When you see the Red Star shining through the Eye, another Pass has started. A lone pair, rider and dragon, stand watch over the comings and goings at the weyr this chilly winter afternoon. Contents: Leiventh L'sen Neiveth Brown Ulanoth and A'tor Obvious exits: Sky It's nearing the last hour of a -very- long shift on the star stones on a chilly winter's afternoon at the 'Reaches. R'hin's rugged up in his flying leathers, and despite these, he's also brought a pillow and blanket. The pillow cushions the lean of his head against Leiventh's still form, the blanket preventing the cold of the stone underneath sinking into him. He's been mostly quiet for the shift, letting L'sen talk or not as he will. Then, out of the blue, the bronze weyrling cracks an eye in the bluerider's direction. "So," he murmurs, "Going to be a dad, huh? Bet you're excited about that." He manages to convey that as rather an understatement. L'sen, perhaps unsurprisingly, has kept up a relatively steady chatter, for lack of anything better to do. Curled up in his own big blanket in the shelter of Neiveth's side, the bluerider's in the process of expounding on the weather, for about the third time today. R'hin's question, however, cuts through his blithe, meaningless talk, and he blinks, straightening slightly to peer over at the bronzerider. "Er, well, yeah," he agrees, breaking into another broad grin. "I'm just thrilled, you know? Kids are the best--I think I've said that--but they are, and the good stuff bears repeating, you know? But, yeah, I am, in, like, another month or two. I can't wait. Except, I have no ideas for names, so that's not good, but oh well. We'll think of something, you know what I mean?" A long pause follows the bluerider's rhetoric question. Slowly, R'hin says, "Do you think the name is the most important thing to be thinking about right now? I mean, you're very enthusiastic, I'll give you that - but how much time will you actually -have- to be a dad? Not very much, from what I've heard other riders say." His lips purse briefly. "Have you found foster parents for it yet? You should be looking, you know. Interviewing likely suspects. I mean, from what Harley's said, she intents to return to work straight away, so I doubt she'll be in much of a position to look after it, and it really -should- have parents, you know? I mean, the sort that's going to be around... don't you think?" L'sen blinks, stares, and eventually looks crest-fallen at R'hin's words. "Uh. Well, I don't know," he admits slowly, regarding the man dubiously. "I--/I/ think it's important, anyway. I mean, it's the first thing you do, right? You name them, you know? I mean, I just wouldn't be me if I wasn't L'sen. Neiveth says, well, he thinks human babies should be born knowing their own names, too, but he just doesn't like anything I suggest, so." A shrug. Belatedly, he remembers the real topic. "Foster parents, though. Do we /have/ to? Because I can take care of a kid! I love them. So does Harley, so we'll be great at this, I just know it. It's not like it's a /Pass/, after all. We don't really do that much." He nods sagely. "Sure, you're going to love him or her, but what will that matter when you're on sweeps, or on drills for thread that's not going to fall for Turns and Turns? It's not a pass, but we still train and live like it's one." There's a hint of intensity to R'hin's words, as if that's leading to another topic he feels strongly about. "Don't you think it deserves parents that are around all the time? Especially at a young age, when children are so impressionable." A pause, and he suggests slowly, "I met some lovely people at Nabol Hold, who I'm sure would be happy to look after your child... I could introduce you if you like? Granted, it's not at the Weyr, but with you being a rider, it's only a trip between away for you or Harley to visit. Then when he or she is older, they can come back to the Weyr with knowledge of Holders, I think that's useful, don't you? Hold-Weyr relations and all that. It opens up all sorts of opportunities for the child's future-- trader, harper, liaison..." he sounds very convincing - and also like it matters a great deal to him, as well. L'sen wavers, fidgeting uncertainly as he studies R'hin. "I don't understand," he says after a moment, shaking his head. "Why do you want to send my kid to Nabol? I mean, I don't--what's wrong with the Weyr, for that matter? We have people that foster kids, and I'm telling you, Harley and I have time. Seriously. I mean, we might need a nanny sometimes, like during mornings or the afternoon or something, but not /all/ the time. I just... I don't understand at all." Befuddled, he peers at the bronzerider, biting his lower lip. Unusual though it might be for the bluerider to be anything but cheerful and exuberant, R'hin seems to have found the right words to get under his skin. "I like you, L'sen," R'hin says, simply, by way of explanation, "And I like Harley. There's nothing necessarily wrong with the Weyr - it's just a different environment. If you bring a child up in the Weyr, it will never want to leave, it will be brought up under this regimental fixedness that everyone here seems so fond of. Rank, and obedience, and subservience. Out there," his hand waves grandly, no doubt indicating places beyond the Weyr, "He-- or she-- will have the opportunity to learn, to become his or her own person, to make the decision to live where they want. To be an individual, to -think-. Don't you want to give them that chance?" "Now wait," says L'sen, holding up a hand. For several seconds, he's quiet--one can almost hear his brain creaking into motion. Then, he finally asks, "So, wait. You're saying the Holds are better that way? But Weyrs are, like, way more open than Holds. I should know--I'm from the Hold--High Reaches Hold, that is. I lived there for turns and turns, until I was sixteen and then I came here. And lemme tell you, here is better, because it's got--it's got... I dunno. It just suits me more. I don't think I could go back and live in a Hold. And, um. Isn't it just as much not giving a kid a choice to send 'im off to a Hold? I just..." He trails off, shaking his head. "... Regimental fixedness?" he repeats the phrase uncomprehendingly. R'hin is silent for a moment, allowing L'sen to process, eyeing the bluerider sidelong as he does so. "That's exactly my point. You grew up outside the Weyr, and made the decision to come to the Weyr. If you lived in the Weyr, you wouldn't choose to go to the Hold. You'd never know any life -outside- the Weyr. And what if your child doesn't impress? They could live in the lower caverns for the rest of his or her life. I'm sure you want more for them than that." L'sen scratches the back of his head, ruffling his hair idly as he thinks. "I... What's wrong with that? Living in the lower caverns, I mean. Lots of people do that. Harley's doing it. I'd've done it, if I hadn't Impressed. Well, unless I went back home eventually, but I /like/ the Weyr. I have friends here. Like you. Would /you/ have gone back if you didn't impress?" he asks curiously. "There's more to life than that. Taking up a craft, travelling all over Pern - meeting new people, experiencing new things. That's what you're meant to do when you're young." R'hin says, shifting his position against Leiventh, the bronze still an unmoving. "You can make friends anywhere. You could've had more friends -everywhere- if you traveled," he says, in gentle counter to L'sen's argument. A long pause follows L'sen's words. "In an instant," he says. "I loved travelling, seeing everything. It's been difficult for me, being stu--" he catches himself, barely, "--in the Weyr for so long. I -know- there's more outside the Weyr. More to see, more to experience." "Being stuck," finishes L'sen, able to figure that out, at least. "Is it really being stuck? Because you can go more places, faster, now with Leiventh than you could on your own. Like me, I never would've met, say, my Igen friends if I had stayed at the Hold, because, well. I didn't have any opportunity to travel there, or, shards, any reason, either. I was happy back home, I'm just... happier here. I think a kid would be, too. I mean, I'd be happier with my parents than off with some strangers in a Hold somewhere--even though, well. They wouldn't /really/ be strangers, but still. You know what I mean." "I haven't been able to leave the Weyr for over a Turn and a half, except with straight flights and a few between jumps - always with other people," R'hin says, his voice a little taut, perhaps betraying a hint of strain. "I'm someone who's used to going where they will, when they feel like it. Maybe later I'll feel different, when I actually can go places - but I'll still be bound here. I can't choose to go and live where I will." He grimaces, annoyed at the segue of topic, and tries to concentrate on the other instead, "So you think living around parents who are always busy doing work - Harley being a workaholic, you being a rider with duties - is a much better choice than having parents who are always around, and available?" "You could transfer to another Weyr," L'sen offers, optimistic as ever. "Lots of people do that. But, uh. I don't know? Why are you asking me this? I mean, I don't have any kids, not yet anyway. I don't know what I'm doing. I just... I just... I really don't understand you sometimes, you know, R'hin?" He shakes his head, offering a small smile R'hin exhales, the gesture exuding a plume of steam in the chilly air. "I just want you to think about it, that's all. Talk it over with Harley. I just know, as a kid, I'd rather have parents that are around to talk to, to spend time with." His lips twitch at the latter comment, and he concedes, "I know I'm not much of a fan of children, but they are the future, and I'm... often thinking about that sort of thing. There's every chance your child would Impress, L'sen, and a rider who doesn't accept the way things are done simply because that's how it's always been done... that's rare. It's important." L'sen blinks, canting his head to peer at R'hin. "The future," he repeats again. "So you're... what? I don't understand. What about the future? I don't--well, I don't really worry about it that much myself," he admits. "I mean, things work out all right, and people are good, so why would you? I don't think I really get what you're, uh, hinting at, or whatever. You think sending my kid to a Hold will make him a better rider? Because he's not from a Weyr like this? Why--just tell me, please, R'hin--why's that important? And rare, for that matter." Earnestly, he observes the other rider, leaning forward slightly and resting his chin expectantly in his palm. "I'm not sure I could ever explain it to you so you'd understand," R'hin says, half apologetic. "Like you said, you live in the moment. Things work out you say-- but they don't always. And some of what does is not by hapstance." He runs a hand through his hair, staring down at the bowl below for several moments, thoughtful. "We've just gone into an interval - two hundred Turns where riders will not do what they were bred for, what they were trained for. Riders with links outside the Weyr will become -vital-, because eventually - maybe not in our lifetime - the Holds and Halls will resent that they support us through tithe, when we do -nothing- for them in return. Now is the time to change things, so that we never reach that point. The Harpers don't tell the story much anymore, but they will readily remember the tale of how the Holders intended to attack a Weyr before the ninth Pass. That sort of thing is unthinkable right now, but in two hundred Turns time..." L'sen nods, unusually solemn. "Oh, I get it. I... I don't understand why they'd do that, but I know that story, anyway. It's stupid. I mean, even if we can't do anything for them /now/, we have, and we will again, when we get the chance. I mean, /I'll/ never fight Thread--neither one of us, I don't guess--but we know how, and we get to teach people how to do it for when we finally get to do it," he says, grinning a bit now. "I guess--I guess that /kind/ of makes sense," concedes the rider. "I'd have to talk to Harley, but hey, maybe you should! You make lots more sense than me--I don't think I could explain it right." "People forget, L'sen," R'hin says, almost sadly. "People forget very easily what they don't wish to be reminded of. You and I have become obsolete. Our -only- purpose at this point is to continue breeding until such a time as our like are needed again. I don't know about you, but I can't live a life like that." He sounds distinctly bitter. His lips twitch briefly, as he confesses, "I think you've got a better relationship with her than I, at present. We seem to keep fighting of late." Leiventh> To you, Leiventh, sleepily listening, provides quiet support. This, he understands, and he agrees with. L'sen frowns slowly, deflated further by R'hin's bleak words. "I... Yeah, they do," he agrees. "We all do that, even I can see it. But I--why can't you? What else /can/ you do? You said it yourself--you're stuck here," the rider points out, peering at R'hin. Then: "Uh-oh. What'd you do to her /now/?" he asks, though good-naturedly. "There's plenty we -could- do, given the opportunity. But that time has not yet come. It will, though, given the right circumstances." R'hin's gaze is still on the Weyr, hands curling about his knees for additional warmth. A sidelong look is given, the bronze weyrling flashing a quick grin, "I haven't lost all hope yet. We haven't," he amends, with a further twist of body to examine Leiventh with that slight softening of expression. "Me? Oh, who knows. It's probably just hormones. That, and me being me." He shrugs a little, not overly concerned. L'sen seems amused and mollified by R'hin's answer, grinning again. "Oh, right. You being you, that explains a lot," he agrees easily. Though, still curious, he asks, "What circumstances do you mean, though? You make it sound like there's something wrong with the Weyr already, you know what I mean? And we're still fine, so." R'hin breaks into a low chuckle, not unkind. "You're ever the optimist, L'sen," he says, as if that should be an answer in itself. "Yes, yes. Everything's fine. Nothing's changed for the last hundred Turns or more. The wheel keeps turning, with or without us." Just a hint of dry tone, barely discernable. He stands, stretching for a moment, before gathering up his blanket and shaking it clean. "So tell me," he's not bothered about being obvious in changing the subject, "What of our itinerant visitor? You and he seem rather close." L'sen grins, shrugging mildly. "Ah, well. S'just how I am, you know? Anyway, um. Bayan?" It takes him a second to figure out just who R'hin's talking about--as though he's close to many itinerants. "Oh, him. He's good, I think. Saw him the other night, and he said his sister got hurt, so I got to go see her soon, except they said she can't have visitors right now so we couldn't go. It sucks, you know? But Baye, he was kind of upset about that--something with his brother, too, or something like that--I don't really remember. I wouldn't say we're /close/-close, but we're good friends, so. You... you don't seem to like him very much?" he says, half-questioning. "His sister?" R'hin echoes with keen interest, settling the blanket around his shoulders, tugging it close. "Why hasn't he gone to see her?" he asks, curious. "And what's with this brother of his- have you ever actually met him?" There's a slight shift of shoulders beneath the blanket that's probably a shrug. "It's not even about like or dislike. Not everything is on the level with that one. I have concerns, that's all. Surely even you must have noticed how evasive he is about things sometimes." Not that he's one to be casting stones, or anything. But then perhaps like recognizes like. "Well, no," admits L'sen. "But his sister is real nice. Ayana--she's at Igen. I met her a long time ago, back when she was still a weyrling and I went to see Te'an there. I taught her how to make straps," he says proudly, beaming at R'hin. On the subject of Bayan directly, he has a shrug ready to offer. "I... guess so. I mean, I know what you mean, but I don't really worry about it. He's nice, and he's harmless, so if he wants to be all secretive and stuff, well. It don't bother me. I can be secretive, too." Yeah, right. His sage nod isn't exactly convincing. "Harmless?" R'hin echoes in flat disbelief. "L'sen, it's nice sometimes that you're so oblivious, but don't -ever- make the mistake of believing that one harmless." There's a sharp edge to his tone, wariness. "He shows one face to you, another to me. Be careful in placing trust in that one." Another flick of his blanket, and he squints at the light, no doubt waiting for the arrival of the replacement watchrider, and the end of their shift. L'sen hesitates, his eyes widening in surprise at R'hin's tone. Opening his mouth and shutting it again, he waffles on an answer and finally asks, "What do you mean? I mean, how do you know that you're right and I'm wrong? I mean, okay, maybe you are on some things, but..." He shakes his head. "He's my friend. He's a good person. I don't know what you have against him. He doesn't really like you, either, but am I supposed to think /we/ shouldn't be friends now or something?" R'hin tips his head downwards, inadvertently casting his expression in shadow. "You are good at being an optimist. I am good at reading what is unspoken. He has threatened me on two separate occasions and, I'm sure, will do it again. I am used to being threatened, but I understand the difference between a threat of little consequence, and one of great consequence." He exhales slowly. "You think him a good person. I think otherwise - because he has shown bits of his true self to me. I'm not saying don't be friends with him, I'm just saying, be careful, that's all." He looks almost relieved as Ulanoth and A'tor arrive, saluting the pair automatically. "Think about it, anyway," he advises. "I'd best see to some food before class." L'sen glances around at R'hin's salute, offering the relieving pair a quick grin, more strained than usual, before he turns back to the weyrling. "I--I guess. I'll think about it," he tells the bronzerider. "I... I don't see it, but, well. You're right, I guess, about me 'n' you and how we're different. So, well. Thanks, anyway, for the advice and stuff." He offers a warmer grin to R'hin then, starting to get to his feet and disentangle himself from his blanket. "You're more than welcome, L'sen... sir," R'hin answers promptly. He stoops to pick up the pillow, before moving to Leiventh's side, stowing both that and the blanket in the saddlebags. He's well practiced by now that climbing up the large bronze's side is done smoothly and almost without seeming effort. With a brief wave that becomes a somewhat lazier salute, R'hin murmurs under his breath, and Leiventh moves towards the edge of the stones before dropping off, wings snapping open as he spirals towards the ground. You climb up onto Leiventh's back, using his straps as handholds. You spring powerfully off of the Star Stones. |
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