I Want Your Rod!

Writers: Corrin, Shawna
Date Posted: 19th October 2025

Characters: Liannor, N'kevyn
Description: Liannor is mildly inconvenienced. His name is N’kevyn.
Location: Barrier Lake Weyr
Date: month 11, day 22 of Turn 12
Notes: Weather: Showers (65°F)
Mentioned: Aydhan

Liannor

N'kevyn

It was Liannor’s second full day in the South. Between Threadfall and now a restday, she hadn’t needed to report to her new wing. Soon there would be drills or formations to learn, but for now there were no real demands on her time. Another person might use the freedom to relax and unwind after the rigors of moving, or start small and begin introducing themselves to their neighbors or explore the weyr-- but Liannor wasn’t just anyone and it never suited her to start small. There would be plenty of time to wander the weyr between duties and meals. Now she wanted to venture out and explore the Wilds. She didn’t even mind that it was threatening to rain. In fact, it inspired her. It was perfect fishing weather.

Perfect-- if only there were rods!

“What do you _mean_ there’s no equipment?” Liannor demanded at a counter in the Lower Caverns, her hands planted firmly on the edge. She was already dressed in her own waders and a jaunty hat, but there were no rods or tackle to be had for love nor marks.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the supply steward said, shifting uneasily under the searing weight of her gaze. “But you aren’t the first one to come down here today with a mind to fish. All my gear is out right now, except…” he paused, a thoughtful look in his eye. “There is one rider who’s had a pair of rods and a tackle box signed out for over two months now. If you get them back from him you can still hit the water today-- and you’d be doing us a real favor.”

---

Less than a candlemark later Liannor hunted bronzerider N’kevyn down in the dining hall. A serving drudge pointed him out from behind, a broad shouldered figure seated at one of the far tables, and that was all Liannor needed. She descended upon the unsuspecting man, long legs eating up the space between them, a finger raised in accusation. “You!”

N’kevyn was mid-bite, but he turned towards his accuser, using the time it took him to finish chewing to look her over appreciatively. Finally swallowing, he replied enthusiastically, “Me! To what do I owe this delightful interruption?”

“You’ve been hoarding a fishing set for over two months, that’s what!” Liannor didn’t bother to lower her voice. It was his shame to feel, not hers, and she had learned young that a firm hand was the only way to deal with some bronzeriders.

}:Tell him,:{ Lariath hissed in her mind. }:Take back what’s ours!:{

Hands on her hips, she did her best to loom into his space, the high waders emphasizing the athletic line of her figure. She was mildly irritated to find that, even seated, he was a tall man-- but she didn’t back down. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself. Do you think a bit of shine in your knots means you’re exempt from the rules? It was a sevenday rental. And don’t tell me you’ve been using them all this time, because here you are on a _beautiful_ fishing day, wasting your appetite on eggs and bacon instead of gutting a fresh catch on a riverbank somewhere-- which is what _I_ would be doing with my morning if it weren’t for you!”

She was annoyed with him, N’kevyn wasn’t too dense to recognize that, but that didn’t stop the smile that tugged at his lips. He did enjoy a feisty woman, even when they were annoyed with him. Probably more than he should when they were annoyed with him.

“I can’t possibly--” he thought about it for a moment, doing a quick mental count, “...have done that intentionally, but you’re right.” Turning briefly back to his plate, he tucked his remaining bacon into a napkin and neatly folded it. “It slipped my mind and things have been busy this past few sevendays.” He stood abruptly, not giving her any warning to back up, and now they were too close as he calmly slipped the bacon and an apple into his pocket. He waited there for a moment, wondering if she would retreat.

Liannor blinked as he rose, revealing himself to be an absurd giant of a man with shoulders like quarried stone. He filled all available space in front of her, close enough to feel the heat of him, and her pulse sped with something more than just irritation-- but she lifted her chin and didn’t retreat.

N’kevyn grinned and gestured towards the door, “Shall we go fetch those rods then?”

“...Yes.” She had been bracing for more of a fight and relaxed fractionally at his agreeability, though the look she shot him was still slightly suspicious. Turning, she headed at once for the door-- and it said something about her determination and speed that she went half the length of the hall before pulling up short. “Wait. It’s your illicit hoard. _You_ lead the way.” She had no idea where they were going.

“That is only fair,” N’kevyn said reasonably, stepping around her. It wasn’t nearly so crowded to justify it, even during the morning rush to the Dining Hall, but he brushed a hand lightly across the small of her back as he moved past her.

“This way to my illicit hoard. You should know you’re not the first person to accuse me of having one. My firelizard has been stealing earrings lately. At least this I know I did steal,” he turned towards her so she could see his smile. After a few minutes, it became clear that he was leading her towards one of the large, ground level, gold weyrs. The gold herself was missing, but there was a massive bronze snoozing in the early morning sun, a gold firelizard nestled on his nose. As he passed him, he gave the massive beast a rough shoulder check, “Wake up, we’re going fishing.”

Before his companion could react to that, N’kevyn said brightly, “Come, I have both fishing poles right near the fireplace.” And he casually led the way into the weyr.

Liannor followed just a half step behind and beside N’kevyn. She hadn’t expected him to lead her to what was clearly a goldrider’s weyr, and she regretted not being familiar enough with Barrier Lake to know if it was the Weyrwoman’s or not. Just who had she picked a fight with? Not that it was exactly a fight now… It was quickly becoming something far more dangerous.

“And who said you’re going fishing?” There was some residual bite to her tone at his casual presumption, but there was also an undercurrent of amusement she didn’t bother to hide as she stepped into the weyr. “I may have plans for that second rod. There may be a handsome man waiting to take me to some secluded spot…”

“There is now,” N’kevyn said with casual over-confidence. “If you ask nicely, I’ll even dig up the bait. I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty. Why don’t you make sure everything we need is in there while I grab my waders?” He headed for the back of the weyr and the door to the bedroom leaving it casually open behind himself as he headed for his closet.

She bit back a laugh and knelt to check over the rods and tackle box with practiced efficiency. There was certainly an ego on this bronzerider, but she could appreciate that.

A minute later he returned in a pair of fishing waders with so many slightly mismatched pockets that this surely had to be a custom and much modified pair. “So, river fishing is what you were interested in? You know, there’s some spots on the ‘lake with absolutely massive fish. I happen to know a few of them.”

“Size isn’t everything,” she teased. “I’ll be seeing that weyrlake every day from now on. I transferred to experience the wonders of the Southern Continent. So show me something wonderful… and far away from here.”

Rising, Liannor handed him one of the rods, her touch lingering a beat longer than necessary, her eyes steady on his with just a hint of challenge. “That is, if the Weyrwoman won't mind.” Besides the shared quarters, she’d noticed a ring on his finger.

“Well, I can also offer skill, if you’re not impressed by size alone. I know of a nice spot.” He took the rod, meeting her gaze and challenge. “Aydhan and I don’t share the same tastes and hobbies all of the time, she’ll be pleased I’ve found someone to indulge me in some outdoor recreation. I’ll have my bronze give yours the location of a good, private, fishing spot, greenrider …?”

“Master harper Liannor, of green Lariath,” she said, taking simple pleasure in letting her new craft rank roll off her tongue. Aydhan. That would be the ‘Second then. She wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or relieved, but she didn’t drop his gaze. “How very sensible of your wife. I do enjoy all sorts of… recreation. If you’re skilled and know your spots, I suppose I can stand to indulge you.”

Lariath pressed in. }:Catch him. Fly him. Climb him like a cliff.:{

Liannor smiled. Her day was certainly looking up. She’d secured a rod and, now that the irritation was fading, perhaps something more.

Last updated on the November 2nd 2025

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I Want Your Rod!