Jeriz thought that over. “I suppose I could sit with you.”
“Certainly,” Fiona said. The boy moved back over to her, trying to find the most manly way of sitting back in her lap. “One condition, however,” Fiona told him. Jeriz looked up.
“I need to understand how to raise boys, I’ll have some of my own, soon enough,” Fiona said. “Little girls like sitting on laps and being tickled and falling asleep and being cuddled.”
“They’re girls,” Jeriz said with all the contempt of a boy barely ten.
“Well, I’m used to them,” Fiona said. “So, you’ll either learn to accept that or you’ll have to work out with me the proper way to treat boys.”
Jeriz frowned.
“Do boys like being tickled?” Fiona asked. “Sometimes,” Jeriz said doubtfully.
“They don’t like sitting on laps, though, do they?”
“Well, sometimes.”
“And being cuddled, how about that?”
“Not like girls.”
“I see,” Fiona said, patting her lap suggestively. “Well, let’s try this out, then.”
“You won’t tickle me?” Jeriz asked.
“Not unless you ask,” Fiona said.
“Tickling’s supposed to be a surprise,” Jeriz snorted.
“So I’m to surprise you?”
“But not often,” Jeriz said. “And you’re to stop when I tell you.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I’ll get mad.”
“I see,” Fiona said. She frowned. “That seems rather one-sided. Perhaps you should sit on the other chair.”
“No!” Jeriz said. “I mean, I suppose it would be all right once in a while.”
“Once in a while is all I imagined,” Fiona told him. “And only in private.”
“Naturally,” Fiona agreed. “So, should we try again?”
Jeriz nodded and sat back onto her lap. Fiona kept her arms to her side, her back straight. Shortly, Jeriz started fidgeting. “What is it?”
“You’re not comfortable,” Jeriz said. “You need to sit back and let me lean against you.”
“That would be cuddling,” Fiona warned him.
“And if you keep your arms like that I might fall off, if I fall asleep,” Jeriz added.
“So you don’t mind if I put an arm around you?”
“Not too tight,” Jeriz allowed, leaning back against her.
“You know,” Fiona began conversationally as she wrapped an arm lightly around his midriff, “there’s a thing girls do.”
“Hmm?”
“Well, mothers, more than girls,” Fiona said.
“What’s that?”
“Well, when they love someone who’s littler, they find it almost impossible,” and Fiona wrapped both arms tightly around the suddenly squirming lad, bending over and kissing him lightly on the crown of his head, “not to cuddle and kiss them!”
Jeriz grunted in annoyance and squirmed once more, for show’s sake, before quieting and snarling, “That’s what my mother said.”
“Mothers do that,” Fiona told him.
“You’re not my mother.”
“But I’m going to be a mother and I need all the practice I can get,” Fiona said.
“Well …” Jeriz stopped struggling. “I suppose if no one else knows.”
Fiona smiled, loosened her grip on the boy, raised her head, and went back to reading her Records. A while later, Jeriz turned, resting his head on her chest, his legs over her side, his breath slowing back into slumber. He was still not quite asleep when Fiona leaned over quickly and kissed his head once more, but this time, he only sighed in contentment.
Fiona could feel the boy’s trust in her growing, could feel the pain and fear inside him easing.
Somehow, she thought to herself, we must prove worthy of that trust.
She thought of the child growing inside her and added, we must give you both a Pern that lives.
Rider to your mate be true
Follow heart in deed and do
All the best your strength can find
So you will rest in heart and mind.
Telgar Weyr, AL 508.7.27
Terin and F’jian had both gone to sleep early that night. Fiona had sent her away early to spend time with the bronze rider, just as T’mar had released all the dragonriders for a day’s rest prior to the Threadfall.
Terin was sore from the exercises she’d had with the weyrlings and probably even more sore because she’d been too shy to join Fiona and Jeriz in an after-drill bath. Jeriz might seem small and young to Fiona, but to Terin he was little more than three Turns her junior and she was still young enough to be body-conscious.
Fiona had let her go good-naturedly, even though Terin was sure that she would have preferred her company and, truth be told, Terin somewhat regretted her impulsive rejection of the offer. Maybe it was time to get over such things. Maybe F’jian would be just the teensiest bit jealous when he heard.
So she replayed the conversation with the Weyrwoman and the green-eyed boy over and over as she tried to settle her mind for sleep. A part of her knew that she was avoiding sleep just as she was avoiding the thoughts that would scare her—Threadfall over Crom.
Tomorrow’s Fall would be short, only a third of the total six-hour Pass would be over Crom territory; the rest would be flown by High Reaches as the Threadfall passed into Nabol and Tillek, but Terin couldn’t control her fears.
She pretended, though, to be sleeping, keeping her breath purposely slow, listening for each new breath from F’jian, trying to burn her brain with the memories lest they be the last.
Stop it, she told herself. He’ll be fine. A moment later, she added chidingly, and you’re not helping with your worries.
She wondered how Fiona was sleeping. Perhaps she was awake, worried. Perhaps Terin should speak to Kurinth and ask her to talk to Talenth, to see if Fiona was—no, Terin thought as she reached out and found her queen fast asleep.
Tomorrow Kurinth would be itching and creeling with hunger. Terin hid a smile at the thought. It was hard not to be forgiving of her beautiful queen and, after all, it was only normal—and good—that she was hungry and growing new skin daily. New skin needed oiling, and there was always new skin.
At least I’ve ready hands to help with the oiling, she thought. The little boys were always eager to please, as were the young girls. Released from their chores to help the weyrwoman, they ran screaming across the Bowl only to walk, silently and cautiously, up the queens’ ledge, fearful of being rude, hopeful of getting a chance to help. Terin was glad to let them—not only for the ease it gave her but also because she genuinely liked the small ones and loved their wide-eyed prattling.
She decided that, perhaps, she was being just a bit silly not to bathe with Fiona just because Jeriz was about.
A noise startled her. Footsteps. Fiona?
No, not Fiona, Terin decided. All the same, she felt that she knew that walk and that it was a woman’s.
F’jian must have been listening, too, for all that he seemed asleep because he slipped the sheets off him and slid quietly out of the bed, grabbing gear and shoes as he went.
“Where are you going?” Terin asked, turning on her side, propping her head with an arm. “And when were you going to tell me?”
“I won’t be gone long,” F’jian said with a voice torn with sorrow. “I’ll be back before first light, I’m certain.”
“Who are you going with?”
“I can’t tell you,” F’jian said.
Terin started toward the edge of the bed. “I’ll come with you.”
“No!” F’jian said desperately. “You can’t come, Terin. Trust me.”
“Why can’t I come?” Terin asked. “How can I trust you?” Her voice turned bitter. “You’re going with some other woman.” Tears sprang from her eyes unwanted. “If you didn’t want me, you had only to say so.”
“No,” F’jian said, glancing to the weyr and back to Terin. “No, you don’t unders
tand.”
“What’s to understand?” Terin asked. “You couldn’t wait, so you found someone else.”
“No,” F’jian raced back to her, reaching for her cheek, but she flinched away. “No, never anyone but you, Terin, never!”
“Until now!”
“No, never!” F’jian said, his voice raw with pain. “Never, by the Egg of Faranth. I promise you, Terin, only you! For all my days, only you.”
Terin said nothing. She couldn’t believe him. In the distance she heard movement. F’jian hesitated, then turned toward his weyr, calling back to her, “I’ll be back.”
Terin shook her head, too angry, too hurt, too wretched to say anything. She heard his footsteps fading, heard Ladirth move out of his weyr, heard the sounds of wings fluttering into the sky, then nothing.
Fiona woke the instant she heard the steps and elbowed Kindan gently. The harper snorted once, glanced her way, then heard the steps and got quickly out of bed. She heard him murmur something, heard Terin’s voice whimper in response and then Terin was in bed beside her, her head buried tight against Fiona’s chest, her tears burning hot through her nightdress. Quietly, Kindan sidled into the overcrowded bed.
“Shh, shh,” Fiona said soothingly to Terin, cuddling her up tight against her, stroking her hair and sending soothing thoughts toward the distraught young weyrwoman.
Slowly, Terin’s sobs ebbed, her tears stopped, and slowly her breathing eased into the depths of sleep.
Fiona felt Jeriz’s gaze bore into her back, but the boy said nothing. A moment later, Jeriz said apologetically, “I’ve got to get out.”
Kindan must have heard, for, with a sigh, the harper reached over Fiona and bodily pulled the boy over her and Terin both, setting him on the ground with a whispered, “Go! Hurry back!”
Fiona could hear the amusement in Kindan’s voice and reached beyond Terin to stroke his arm in thanks. Kindan grasped her hand with his for a moment and released it, settling back into a waiting doze until Jeriz returned and Kindan, much to the boy’s surprise, chagrin, and delight, repeated the maneuver.
“Fiona,” Jeriz whispered into her ear a moment later, “there was someone out there.”
Fiona nodded absently, reached behind herself to rub his arm comfortingly and slipped back to sleep.
But not for long. It seemed only an instant before she heard voices again. Kindan and another male and then the piping voice of Jeriz, who had somehow crawled over her and Terin without waking them.
“Go to bed, you can talk to her in the morning,” Kindan said.
Fiona opened her eyes. It was F’jian.
“I just need to tell her—”
“It can wait for the morning, trust me, bronze rider,” Kindan said.
F’jian gave him a final imploring look and, weary and defeated, turned away. A moment later, a rustling sound was followed by the shadowy outline of a dim glow, and Jeriz called quietly, “I’ll light your way.”
“Thank you,” F’jian said, still sounding miserable.
Fiona waited until Jeriz returned much later, hid the glow, and crawled back into bed, this time too tired to do more than snuggle against Kindan who held him close and whispered, “You did well.”
Fiona heard the boy’s pleased sigh at the words even as he drifted off to sleep.
F’jian was back at first light, bearing a tray with a pitcher of warm klah and a basket of fresh rolls.
“Make him go away,” Terin said miserably as soon as she heard his voice.
Fiona rose and pulled on her robe even as Kindan greeted the bronze rider with marked reserve.
“You need to go, F’jian,” Fiona said before he could say anything.
“Please,” he begged, “can I talk to you, Weyrwoman?”
“Come with me, then,” Fiona told him sharply, nodding toward Talenth’s weyr.
In the morning light reflecting into Talenth’s weyr, Fiona could see the misery in F’jian’s face. His eyes were red-rimmed, his hair unkempt, and he looked absolutely exhausted.
“She has to know I love her,” F’jian began without preamble, his hands raised by his side, clenched for emphasis.
“Actions will tell her that,” Fiona said. She sent a thought to Talenth, who passed the message on to Zirenth. “What happened last night?”
“I cannot say,” F’jian said, sounding forlorn.
“I can’t help you much if I don’t know what’s happening,” Fiona told him reasonably, all the while thinking of the warm klah, her still warmer bed, and how little she liked standing in a nightdress with only her nightrobe for warmth. “Who was the woman, F’jian?”
“I can’t say,” he repeated miserably. He looked into her eyes adding softly, “You cannot break time.”
“Break time?” Fiona repeated, her eyes narrowing. “You’ve been timing it?”
“I cannot say more,” F’jian told her. “I wish I could, believe me, but I cannot.”
“You’ve been timing it?” T’mar appeared behind F’jian in response to Fiona’s summons. “This near a Fall?”
“I—I had to, Weyrleader,” F’jian said, turning to include T’mar in his view.
“You’ve been dead on your feet for the past sevenday, man, and now you tell me you’ve been timing it!” T’mar shook his head savagely. “You don’t fly tonight. You may kill yourself, but I can’t risk you killing others.”
“I think you should return to your quarters, F’jian,” Fiona told him sternly.
“But—” F’jian looked from Weyrleader to Weyrwoman and back. Finally, he dropped his head and slumped away.
“Has anyone else been timing it?” Fiona asked as she watched him make his way across the Weyr Bowl. She caught T’mar’s expression and gave him an apologetic look. “I should have kept a better eye on them.”
“Affairs of the heart aren’t usually conducted in broad daylight, Weyrwoman,” T’mar told her gently. “As far as I know, only you operate that way.”
“So I should have known better,” Fiona repeated.
“Yes,” T’mar agreed. “Beyond saving Pern, beyond looking out for strays, beyond your queen and your Weyr, beyond all that you do, you should have known better.”
“But she’s my friend!” Fiona protested. With a wan look at F’jian’s retreating form, she added, “And I thought I knew him.”
“You probably did,” T’mar said.
“Come in, there’s warm klah,” Fiona said, nodding toward her quarters invitingly. T’mar frowned in thought for a moment, and gestured for her to precede him.
“This is not the best start to a day,” Kindan said as he marshaled Terin and Jeriz around the table. There weren’t enough chairs with T’mar present, so the boy insisted on standing and serving the others. He conducted his self-appointed duties with skill and aplomb, receiving praise from the four older folk and beaming in response.
“And now we’re a dragon short,” Fiona added with a grimace.
T’mar nodded, then looked over at Kindan. “I don’t suppose you’d—”
“No!” Fiona cut him off harshly. The Weyrleader looked at her expectantly. “If F’jian’s been timing it this much, Ladirth is no better than he. They’re both too tired.”
T’mar reflected on this for a moment and nodded. Sighing, he said, “Well, then we’re another dragon short this Fall.” His eyes turned to Terin and he gave her a troubled smile. “I’m sorry, weyrwoman, that you’ve been through so much.”
“I trusted him,” Terin said with a half-sob. She struggled to get herself under control. “All this time …”
Fiona groped for something to say, but could only shake her head wordlessly, sending a beseeching look to Kindan.
“Sometimes,” the harper said slowly, “when we’re very afraid of losing that which we desire most, we make terrible mistakes.”
Terin eyed him bleakly, her tear-stained cheeks and red-rimmed eyes mute testimony to the pain she’d experienced.
Fiona regarded the exchange though
tfully. She reached over to her friend and grabbed her shoulder comfortingly. Terin covered Fiona’s hand with her own and lay her head on the pair. Fiona made a noise and stood up, circling around behind the redhead and resting both hands on her shoulders, moving them in to massage Terin’s tense neck. After a moment, Terin sighed and closed her eyes gratefully.
“Terin, love,” Fiona told her softly as she sensed the youngster relax, “you’re going to have to forgive him.”
Terin tensed under her hands and leaned forward out of her grasp. She turned her torso so that she could stare at Fiona. “Forgive him!”
“Yes,” Fiona said, nodding grimly. “Forgive him.” Terin snorted her opinion of that. “If you don’t forgive him, you’ll never move on from this—and you’ll never forgive yourself.”
“She’s right,” Kindan said, glancing at T’mar for agreement, but the Weyrleader was watching Fiona in amazement. Kindan smiled to himself, realizing that some of his lessons had rubbed off on the impish Weyrwoman. Sensing T’mar’s rapid thoughts, Kindan continued, catching Terin’s eyes with his own as he said, “It took me a long while to recover from Koriana’s loss.” Fiona gasped at the mention of her sister. Kindan nodded to her. “I blamed myself for not being quicker, I blamed Lord Bemin for—for anything I could think of.” His eyes fell to Fiona. “I blamed you for living and trying so hard to take her place.”
“I could never take her place!” Fiona declared. “She was my sister, Kindan.”
“You never knew her,” the harper told her quietly. His lips twitched upward for a moment as he added, “But she would have been so proud of you!”
Tears started in Fiona’s eyes.
“And rightly so,” Kindan said, lowering his eyes to Terin once more. “You’ve made great friends and you keep loyal to them.” Terin absorbed his words and leaned back once more in her chair in silent apology to Fiona, who held her shoulders once more and grasped them gently in acceptance. “And you’re not afraid to tell the truth as you see it, no matter how hard it is on you.”
“They say I’m stubborn,” Fiona agreed. Kindan smiled at her, joined a moment later by T’mar and Terin. She leaned over Terin to speak in her ear once more. “Which is why I’m telling you: You have to forgive him.” She paused to let her words sink in. “You rise above the pain when you do, trust me.”
Dragon’s Time: Dragonriders of Pern Page 11