Flame Throwers and Beer

Writers: Eimi, Yvonne
Date Posted: 24th July 2006

Characters: Zebrekhan, Tsaera
Description: Zeb catches Tsaera at the beach
Location: River Bluff Weyr
Date: month 12, day 16 of Turn 3

Tsaera laughed as Tabanirth spread her wings and gave them a final shake, spraying her rider in a rainbow of water. They were down by the Weyrlake and the gold dragon was obviously showing off for whoever would look her way. **Everyone knows that you're lovely already. You don't need to soak me to make your point!**

}:You are wet already, so it doesn't matter,:{ Tabanirth replied smugly. She fanned her wings again and arched her neck, her eyes whirling with good-humored colors and as bright as jewels.
}:Besides, there are new bronzes at the Weyr!:{
**But you just rose and were caught by Nikornath. You're tiring of him already?** Tsaera asked, her smile fading somewhat.

}:No. But there is no harm in reminding them that this is _my_
Weyr.:{ Tsaera smiled again. **I think they already know. Nobody could possibly miss a big gold lump like you. Go find somewhere sunny and call me when you're ready to be oiled.**

}:I am not a lump!:{ Tabanirth said indignantly. The senior queen couched, then leapt into the air in a shining flurry of wings... and made sure that her rider was nearly swamped. Tsaera grumbled a little at the indignity of it, then gave in and lay back in the water and let the sun bake her bare legs and arms.

A shadow passed over her, blocking her sunshine. "You know, Tsaera, for a moment there is was hard to tell just whom was bathing whom."

The Weyrwoman smiled and stood back up in the water, squinting in the bright sunlight. "It's not polite to spy on a lady in her bath, you know."

"I'm sorry, Weyrwoman, but the seas are _not_ your personal bathtub. Besides, it's nothing I haven't already seen," he said with a knowing smile and an innocent shrug.

"I was talking about _Tabanirth_, you old letch. I happen to draw a distinction between bathing and swimming." She grinned and crossed her bronzed arms. "What are you doing out here on such a nice day, anyway? I'd've thought you'd be at the bottom of a smelly old hole, looking at rocks."

"Ah, but isn't the sand just a bunch of tiny rocks?"

"Let me put the emphasis on 'smelly hole' then, rather than 'looking at rocks'." She shrugged and began wading towards the shore. "How are you settling in?"

"Well. You have a surprising number of would-be miners here. Or I guess not so surprising since the Mining Hall is under your protection." Several of the lads he were teaching had been Searched from there and it was fun to hear about how the place had changed.

"I'm not too sure that the Hallmaster shares your enthusiasm, but I can't say that I can complain." "Did you know that Journeyman... well, I guess its _Master_ Tiupen is still teaching at the Hall? Over a hundred turns and still causing fear and panic among the apprentices." He was the man who had made Zeb _hate_ gem cutting forever.

Tsaera rolled her eyes and stepped out of the water onto the sand.
"Shards, yes. I have to deal with him every time I commission a piece, and he manages to make me feel guilty _every_time_ because I don't cut my own gems anymore." She picked up her towel, shook off the sand, and rubbed down her arms before reaching for her robe. "He might be old, but his mind's sharp as his tools. And like him or no, he does very good work."

"And you? Will you still be terrorizing weyrfolk in another forty turns?" he asked with an impish grin. Zeb was rather pleased to see she had kept her figure. "Or will you try to get back into crafting?"

The Weyrwoman shook her head. The Weyrlake before them rippled and reflected the tropical sun and the flashes of colour that were dragons flying overhead. She sat down on the sand, and it burnt her legs. "No. Tabanirth and I... there's no other life for us now. When we can no longer fly, we'll be better off /between/."

"/Between/, why? Is being Weyrwoman all that's left for you?" he asked as he squatted down beside her. "Don't you have any of Tsaera left outside your office?"

She snorted. "Of course not. But I'm also not going to let myself break down and become one of those doddering, drooling, senile old ladies who smell of urine." Tsaera lifted her face to the sun. "But that's depressing talk for a day like today. When are you bringing me that beer you promised?"

"When will you be out of your office again?"

"That depends." She glanced sideways at him. His white hair made her feel... old, even as it dazzled her eyes. **I remember it dark...**
"How good are you with flame throwers?"

Flamethrowers and beer certainly seemed an odd combination. He certainly wouldn't recommend it to the youth of the Weyr. "I've used them once or twice... Why, someone bothering you?" "My backup needs a taking apart and cleaning. Come help me do that, and then we can have a beer afterwards." "You certainly know how to leave work behind," he chuckled. Zeb decided right then and there that one of these days he needed to pull her away from work for longer than a beer or two. "I'll bring the beer and a cleaning rag then?"

"Just the beer is fine. I have plenty of rags." She tapped her finger against her chin, thinking. "Stop by my weyr... oh, lets say two candlemarks after the evening meal, shall we?" That would give her time to get a little hidework done first...

"I think I could handle that. Just don't forget me and find other company for the evening."

The Weyrwoman smiled, both amused and flattered that he'd assume that she might. "I'll do my best, Zeb."

Last updated on the July 26th 2006

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Flame Throwers and Beer