Any Regrets?

Writers: Eimi, Yvonne
Date Posted: 19th March 2007

Characters: Tsaera, Zebrekhan
Description: Tsaera takes Zeb fossil hunting- and also for a picnic
Location: Elsewhere on Pern
Date: month 2, day 4 of Turn 4

"Isn't it fascinating?" Tsaera ran her fingertips across the cool ridges of the grey cliff before her. Rock was a permanent thing, but she was always surprised that they were still there after all these turns. "I found this two turns after I Impressed. I wasn't quite ready to give up surveying, and so we did odd jobs here and there -
we're on Weyr territory, if you're curious," she told him, then made a face. "Not many folk wanted to hire a goldrider. Even then."

"Gold is expensive," Zeb grinned up at her as he picked up a stone and deftly cracked it with his hammer. "Look at this one. An entire leaf. Just... perfect."

"Do you know, one of the stories that's told to weyrlings before they go /between/ is of a dragon and rider that were found _inside_ a cliff after coming back from /between/ too close to the ground?" "What a sobering thought." Not exactly the picture Zeb would have wanted to carry into his first trip /between/! "I would not want to be the geologist to find that pair." Or maybe a little morbid part of him would. What exactly would that look like? A fossil? And intrusion?
Some new stone? Perhaps blood red... "Me either." The Weyrwoman was quiet a moment, studying the stone leaf. "I wonder how that got in there."

"A flood, I think," Zeb said as he turned himself in a circle. "Do you see how the cliff face looks more eroded towards the bottom there? Like something wore away at it? That would be water. But there's no other evidence that the river over there ever ran along here. I'd say there was a history of it flooding its banks on a regular basis and that the debris was carried along the torrent. It would collect along this cliff face and settled here. At least that's what I'd say at first glance. Can't be sure until I take a really good look around though."

Never ask a rhetorical question to a Crafter. Tsaera smiled; she ought to know better. "Still, its strange that leaves get turned into stone. I bet if you polished it up, a stone like that would make a good brooch." She idly picked up the stone that Zeb had cracked in two. "Something a little different, anyway."

"I suppose it would. Quite pretty. Or a pendant, perhaps." Banded in gold? No, silver. That would be pretty.

"Mmm." Tsaera made as if to throw it away, then changed her mind and stuck it into her pocket. She could give it to her grandson. "I miss surveying."

"I don't think anyone can forget their first love. Even when they found the one they were destined to be with," he replied with a nod towards the gold sunning herself.

"No regrets." She flashed him a smile, then rose to her feet to rescue the two bottles of beer chilling in the river and the picnic basket sitting in the shade. Zeb joined her a little later on the sand and she handed him a beer. "You have any? Regrets, I mean."

"A lifetime full," he replied, lifting his beer to her in salute before taking a swig. "Though I wouldn't change a thing. Well, most things."

"Such as?" Tsaera realized that although she'd told him quite a bit about herself, she didn't know much of what had happened to Zeb in the turns since they'd last seen each other.

"I wish I could have watched my children grow up. That is a pleasure I never had." That was certainly his greatest regret. "In fact, I have yet to meet two of them face to face, though we exchange letters and gifts on a regular basis."

"I had no idea you were a father." Zeb reminded her more and more of a bronzerider every day. "What are their names?"

"Well, I have my daughter Mesana who I _have_ met, and a daughter, Yanukha, and a son, Zebretajh who I have not."

"Would you like to?"

"That's a good question," Zeb said thoughtfully before taking another long pull from his beer. "I do. I want to meet them. But I have to admit, I'm a bit of a coward. They know me only through letters. They have an image of me in their head, just as I have one of them. I wouldn't want to spoil that with the truth."

"Call me a pragmatist, but I'd prefer the truth over a fantasy any day and I'd feel mighty- cheated, if I learnt that my father lived at a Weyr and didn't bother taking advantage of the free flights to visit. You can, you know." She selected the redder redfruit from the pair that she'd brought and polished it on her shirt. "Travel here is easy."

"I could," he nodded. "And they could visit me just as easily since they live in a Weyr too. In fact, one of them has a greenrider for a mother." "Really?" It figured. She was a lucky woman, whoever she was, Tsaera thought. They probably met when she was ferrying the Master Crafter around. "Never mind, then. I guess the status quo is working out for you all just fine."

"I'm sure it will happen eventually. And someday I want to meet my grandchildren. I have three now. In fact, the oldest is just about to apprentice." He secretly harbored hopes one of them would follow in his footsteps. Perhaps some inherited gene he passed down to them.

"With which Hall?"

"I haven't heard yet. I suppose that will be in the next round of letters." Which had been decidedly late in coming. "What about you?
Any secret regrets?"

Tsaera smiled and sipped her beer. The bottle was cool against her lips, and the brew chilled her throat. "Me? No. Not anything that I could change, anyway. Just... that I didn't have more time."

"With anyone in particular?"

"My Weyrmates." She sighed, set her beer aside, and picked up her redfruit again. It was juicy and a little sand had stuck to the bottom - she wiped it off. "I lost Velker to the Plague only months after we'd joined. And then G'lanet in the First Fall. I miss them both."

Zeb nodded. He had been lucky enough to not lose anyone that close to him in the Plague. But he certainly wasn't wholly untouched, by either event. "Mesana's mother was a Plague widow. I think I...
brought her some comfort."

"I'm sure that you did." Sometimes a warm body helped drive away the dark. It didn't really matter who lay beside you. "It can be lonely."

"Several women took on boarders after the Plague to help make ends meet. There were lots of children born in the turns after the Plague whose parentage was conveniently over-looked." Though truthfully, Zeb wasn't so sure his greatest regret in life was not marrying Mesada. At least there was something to show for the time they spent together.

Tsaera snorted. "The fact that it's even an issue is sad. Children are children, whether their parents are wed or not. They deserve to be loved."

"I certainly cannot argue there." He was glad Yongti had decided to leave for the Weyr after she discovered she was pregnant. That was where she belonged anyway. She had the heart of a crafter, and their daughter escaped the lable of 'bastard'. Such an ugly word to follow such a beautiful beginning. "Sorry. It's an issue with me. There are so many people who come to my Weyr looking for a _home_..."

"It's different out there, Tsaera," Zeb quickly reminded her. "You don't have to worry about lineage or inheritance or marriage prospects. It's different even from when you and I were part of that society. I'm not saying its right, in fact there's a lot that's sharding wrong with it, but they are just trying to do the best they can with the lot that has been handed down to them." "I know." Tsaera bit into the redfruit with a little more force than necessary. It made a very satisfying crunch. She chewed for a moment, then said, "But I didn't come here to hash at problems I can't fix.
Lovely day for a picnic, wouldn't you say?"

Very tactful subject change, Zeb thought as he set his beer down and reached for a redfruit of his own. "Indeed. And the company's not half bad either." He gave her side a brazen tickle before settling back on his elbows. It was indeed turning out to be a lovely day.

Last updated on the March 22nd 2007

Welcome to Triad Weyrs!

Any Regrets?