Lists- Later

Writers: Dana, Yvonne
Date Posted: 13th January 2006

Characters: Ailyn, Cyrek
Description: Ailyn brings her husband Firon's excuses for missing a meeting to Cyrek
Location: Amber Hills Hold
Date: month 9, day 22 of Turn 3

Ailyn

**Lists, lists, lists...** Cyrek thought, staring bleakly at the pile on his desk. Most of it had been deposited there today by his understewards, and Cyrek now had the unenviable task of tallying it all up to make sure that it matched up, and that Amethyst Cliff wasn't missing any goods in the face of a long winter. He glanced at the door, hoping for a distraction - Trouble, Mariss, anything! - and was surprised when someone knocked. **Well, what do you know!**

"Come in!"

"Good afternoon, sir," Ailyn smiled as she came in.

"Ailyn! This is a surprise." Cyrek rose to greet her. "I haven't seen you for a while, but I've got a meeting with your husband later today. How are you?"

"I'm very well, sir. And you? You look well. I hope I didn't interrupt you..." She glanced at his desk where many, many hides were spread out.

"You did, and just in time, too. I was beginning to fear that I might actually have to get a little work done." The Steward smiled and gestured toward one of the chairs opposite his desk, inviting her to sit.

She grinned at him as she sat. He reminded her of her husband sometimes.
"I came just in time then!"

"So what can I do for you, Ailyn?"

She leaned forward a little. "I'm here because of Firon, actually. He wanted me to relay to you that he can't make it to the meeting today, and that he apologizes because he knows he has asked you to postpone it once already..."

The Steward grimaced, but reined in the brief flare of anger he felt at being put off yet _again_. Firon was a good man, and a good Crafter, but this was getting to be unacceptable. Cyrek liked punctuality and orderliness and the disruption of his schedule irritated him. But... there was probably a good reason, and Firon's absence couldn't be helped.
"Apology accepted, and thank you for coming to tell me - although next time Firon can choose a time for our meeting, since there seems to be some difficulty in coordinating our schedules."

She winced inwardly, hoping that Firon had a really good reason. He'd better! Because he hadn't told her... "I'll be sure to tell him, sir."
She hesitated, not really wanting to leave on a sort of sour note... "How is Mariss doing?"

"Good! She's been learning how to fix furniture, actually, after the leg on one of our chairs broke. Then she decided to refinish it. The carpenter says that she's a fair hand at it, actually." Not a typical task for a woman, but then again, Mariss had never been typical.

Ailyn grinned - that was the _last_ thing she'd expected to hear! "I'm sure it's a good thing for her to know. If it happens again, you could save a lot marks by not having to hire out a carpenter."

Cyrek nodded his head. "It also means that if she's ever in a situation where she does need to hire out a carpenter, she'll know if she's being cheated. I'm all in favor of her having a little practical experience."

She inclined her head, whole-heartedly approving. "If I had a daughter, I'd want her to have the same experience."

"You're a rarity - but I'm sure that you'll have the opportunity soon enough." She and Firon were both young and obviously in love. There would be children soon enough, Cyrek thought.

Her smile widened, though she was unaware of it. "I'm sure we will."

Cyrek wracked his brain for an appropriate reply, but came up with nothing and decided to change the topic instead. "Is there anything else I can do for you today, Ailyn?"

Shaking her head, she rose. "That's all, sir. I'll be sure to give Firon your message..."

"Thank you. And thank you for the visit, Ailyn." He smiled at her and watched until she'd closed the door behind herself before turning to the hides on his desk. Even bleached they were still slightly tan in color, and ink had seeped into the natural wrinkles of the animal's skin. He thought he could see a scar in the top left corner of the hide on the top of the pile.

The Steward sighed. **Lists, lists, lists...** He hoped for a distraction
- Mariss, Trouble, anything! - as he reached for his pen but nothing appeared, and he settled down to work.

Last updated on the January 14th 2006

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Lists- Later