Creatures
Dragonsfall Weyr
Amber Hills Hold
Vintner Hall
Hidden Meadows
Dolphin Cove Weyr
Dolphin Hall
Emerald Falls Hold
Harper Hall
Printer Hall
Green Valley Hold
Leeward Lagoon Hold
Barrier Lake Weyrhold
Sunstone Seahold
Citrus Bay Hold
Elsewhere on Pern
NPC Weyr (NPC)
River Bluff Weyr
Seacraft Hall
Writers: Iluva, Shawna
Date Posted: 26th October 2024
Characters: N'kevyn, Shassene
Description: N’kevyn approaches the illustrator for a special commission
Location: Printer Hall
Date: month 1, day 9 of Turn 12
Notes: Mentioned: Aydhan
mild language
A few days before, a message had been delivered to the Hallsecond, requesting a meeting to discuss a certain special commission that someone wanted to hire her for. At roughly the appropriate time (early enough to be on time but not so early as to be rude), a large coppery bronze appeared in the air above the Printer Hall.
Avicath landed heavily, depositing his rider before finding a spot to go lounge in. He’d hoped for sun, but at least it wasn’t raining here, and he settled in with a long suffering sigh at the weather not cooperating. N’kevyn ignored him, looking around until he spotted an apprentice he could ask directions of.
Whether the apprentice had been on some other task or not, he was able to convince the youth to escort him to where he could find the Hallsecond, and the bronzerider knocked politely on her office door. He was quite well put together today in new leathers, hair shiny and artfully arranged, beard trimmed and oiled.
A short pause later and the polished door jumped open, the Hallsecond’s black skirts still softly asway around her ankles. Shassene was a tall rakish woman, nearly swallowed by her light, loosely-fitting dress. The morning had passed quickly, and she’d been curious about the appointment since it had been set, opening the door with vibrant enthusiasm.
With her sleeves rolled up to her elbows, she exposed arms as freckled as they were ink-stained. A few rings glittered on a hand and on her shoulder a rotund blue lizard mustered a wary chirp.
“Bronzerider,” Shassene declared with a smile, offering her speckled hand to him. “There you are.” The part of Shassene’s brain enamoured with creation instantly sparked at the sight of N’kevyn; such a pleasing arrangement of details"though most strikingly, his eyes shone kindly and his laugh lines were true. That was always worth noting in someone. “Hello and welcome. It’s such a pleasure to have you here with us today. We don’t get as many bronzeriders around here as people say.” She beckoned. “Please, come join me.”
N’kevyn took her hand, shaking it warmly, “I appreciate you meeting me. I know being Hallsecond means you're very busy, but I've heard you're exactly the artist I need for a very important commission.”
He entered her office, taking a moment to look around curiously before returning his full attention to her, “I'm N'kevyn, of bronze Avicath, and it's a pleasure to meet you in person, master Shassene. I'll get right to the point; I'm looking to have a piece of art made for my wife, in your very particular style.”
The light was clear and bright inside, a faint woodiness clinging to the air. It was always bigger than she was prepared for, taking more than the few paces she was used to to reach a desk, paces she still practiced and counted, and still made herself giddy. A handful of new sketches, shelves and old tapestries, a lush green plant. Her last space at Dolphin Cove had grown so many barnacles that it was a little stark, she thought, to have so much silent wall space now.
“Well, N'kevyn, you honor me as much as flatter me. Truly.”
Shassene motioned him to a high backed chair, though there was the choice of embroidered cushioned stool, round and low to the ground. Certainly he could sit anywhere. Mirit was less enthused about his choices, now squawking indignantly in his heavy blue hammock. “Please, excuse the state of my office. These two think it's theirs, and I suppose it is. And believe it or not, I’m still settling in. A creature slow to change, my mother would say.”
Her fluid exhale finally carried her to her seat; her mug bearing the emblem of Nabol had the desk to itself. Shassene crossed a leg. “So, what sort of creature is your wife?”
N’kevyn picked the high backed chair, settling in with a lazy confidence, “Two firelizards? How delightful. I’m on the hunt for a nest myself. I think I need one to make myself a proper southerner.” Considering the question, he idly spun the old gold band on his ring finger. “My wife is a delightful creature with a playful sense of humor. I want to present her with something special, we’ve been together twenty Turns now, and there’s two things I know she likes… me, and causing a bit of a scandal. So, I was wondering if you could put your skills to work- nothing crude, but a bit more scandalous than a traditional portrait.”
“Oh I felt much the same. Like all dear creatures, they will use the endearment to escape consequences. They think I don’t know. And, worst case, a pop _between, no more problems.” Shassene’s eyes twinkled. “Firelizard logic.”
When N'kevyn finished speaking, her smile drew a gentle curve. “Your wife sounds proud of you.” And he of her. “That is worth celebrating. And as for our bodies… they are only this way for a short time, aren't they. I'm honored to be part of your celebrations. I think we can come up with something suited to your wife's playful tastes.” Twenty Turns could change a lot - it was heartening to see that time had only intensified their love.
“So, am I correct in thinking you can’t come all the way down South, and not get a tan, N’kevyn?” A clipboard and shiny leather-bound portfolio met the desk, the latter of which contained various shades of ‘tan’ that Shassene gently tapped toward him. “This could spark some ideas, although the options aren't limited to what's represented here.”
N'kevyn smiled at her words, and sat a little straighter, in full agreement that his wife's affections were worth celebrating. It's what had brought him here after all.
“It’s true,” he agreed, starting to look through the portfolio. “I’ve already been working on my tan with my workouts. I have quite the following invested in my fitness routine. There's almost always someone watching my work,” he said playfully. “And it's good to show off my progress.”
He liked to be ogled. Aydhan liked when he was being ogled. “Do you have any thoughts on poses that are popular? I've always found my height to be my advantage, but I'd hate to be too ‘looming’ if it's too big, and too silly looking if it's smaller.”
The Hallsecond’s eyes took him in simply as he was here. Drenched in the soft daylight, the bronze’s rider shone appropriately lustrous and new, the way he would on the cover of their newest bestseller. She mapped all the connective details of how the man moved, and spoke, the rich timbre of his voice, which never translated into a still work on its own, or at all, but was essential for capturing someone’s likeness.
“The apprentices could always use some new models to cut their teeth on, N’kevyn.” She said, not entirely joking, “The move from the Weyr has fewer riders taking their time, and clothing, off around here.” All the while her stylus ticked across the page into a satisfactory likeness of the bronzerider’s beard, before disappearing into her hair.
N’kevyn laughed, a full body laugh where he threw his head back. It was a good, rich sound, even if the action emphasized the little lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth. “Well, I’ve never been a shy man,” he managed as he got control over himself, “but your apprentices would be horrified by the tan lines.”
Then Shassene looked up, mirth in her gaze. Looked at him the way a woman looked at a man.
“Ass,” she answered, “and the sheer eroticism of vulnerability. Any poses that showcase that are very hot. The Holds around Dolphin Cove are quite appreciative this season, but it’s never really gone out of style, has it? Now, barring any injuries or discomfort that could impede your flexibility,” dragonriders’ bodies could be battlegrounds, after all, “we can go in whatever direction you like. For you, though…” She tilted her head to the side and this time her eyes were the stylus.
“I’d like to see you just as you are now, N’kevyn. Sitting against the hardwood and thinking about what you want your lovely wife to see, and feel.”
“The knees are a little iffy when it gets cold, but everything is mostly in working condition, and only a little scuffed up,” the bronzerider said with absolutely no shame. “No one warns the young bronzeriders of the consequences of leaping dramatically off your dragon.” He winked at her, “No dramatic heroic poses? I’m kidding, I came to an expert, so I trust your opinions.”
“Your knees sound like my firelizards.” Shassene chuckled, the indignant chirp from the hammock making her chuckle all the more. Her long fingers formed a gentle steeple where the ink stains joined like a torn painting suddenly pasted back together. “And they are only that, N’kevyn. Opinions. You know the client better than anyone, and I would always defer to your expertise in pleasing her. But it can be helpful to know exactly what you’re working with first and then taking it from there. We get you down to your tan-lined canvas, and I have a feeling this is going to take care of itself, heroic bronzerider of Pern.”
“Now, usually a sit-down session is anywhere from one to three candlemarks. Plenty of breaks in between. Someone brings you wine and sweets and fans you with a giant leaf. It’s all very posh.” She winked back. “Approximately 5-7 sessions for a standard portrait-size, usually, but it can be adjusted as the work progresses. And we want to ensure we complete it in time for your anniversary…” Shassene took a sip from the cold mug, other hand fishing out her datebook. “Let’s see… Let’s see… when will you be able to come back?”
“Oh, well that sounds lovely. I do like a good pampering. Barring any unfortunate mishaps, I could stop by again next…” the bronzerider rattled off his next free days. “If any of those days work, it will be a pleasure to meet with you again.”
“Good, good. Most of those… will work… just fine.” Shassene chewed her lip as she cross-referenced the dates, absently wondering where she put that stylus. As if on cue, or simply out of habit, Rylus winged down from his perch to her shoulder and gently plucked it from her flame red hair. “Ah, thank you, darling,” she murmured, not looking up first or last.
“Mm. The time differences can make it challenging to align schedules at the best of times, so should an evening session be required to meet the deadline we will make it work,” she assured him. “Dragonmen especially. I have a promising feeling about this one, though. Feel free to take the portfolio with you if you like, if it won’t ruin the surprise for curious eyes. Are there any questions, or concerns on your mind that I can help allay? Don’t be shy.”
“I have no concerns, I’m simply going to put myself in your capable hands.” Standing, N’kevyn smiled, “If that's all you need from me, I'll let you get back to your busy schedule, master Shassene. It was a pleasure. And once I find a firelizard of my own, you must give me tips on training. Yours seem like helpers.”
“The pleasure was certainly mine as well, N’kevyn.” Mirit was finally freed from his designated waiting spot (prison), curling up on her other shoulder like he’d been pulled from a shipwreck. Shassene offered her hand one last time, a bright smile lighting her face as she showed him out. “They _are_. In their own ways.” She agreed fondly. “And if you haven’t already, scout down the beaches east of Dolphin Cove. It’s more jungle, but a little less disturbed by beachcombers. I wish you the very best of luck, and fair skies to you and your bronze.”
This meeting had drawn out a lot of good feelings, and something told her their collaboration would only spark more.
Last updated on the November 4th 2024