Not So Pleasant Visit

Writers: Heather, Miriah
Date Posted: 16th April 2014

Characters: Jeyme, D'hol, Jaevera, Guthrye
Description: A family visit goes a bit awry.
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 6, day 25 of Turn 7

Jeyme

D'hol

Jeyme could only imagine the look that she wore on her face as she
read the letter in her hand. It had come for her earlierin the day and
she still had a hard time believing the contents. When she had
Impressed Quinneth her parents had been quick to send her a letter
telling her that she was disowned from the family. Apparently since
then they had discovered that she was having a baby, a bronzerider's
child no less, and now they had planned a visit to the Weyr to see
both her and this bronzerider weyrmate.

The real kicker, and Jeyme was sure that they had planned it so on
purpose, was that the letter had arrived that morning, and said they
would be arriving that afternoon. **Just perfect.** She thought with a
sigh as she imagined her strictly holdbred parents in the same room as
her very, pro-Weyr weyrmate.

"D'hol?" She stepped into his office since the door was open.

He looked up and the hard set to his jaw eased immediately, though
there was a twinge of irritation that he quickly pushed aside. They
were trying to heal their relationship as much as they were able and
though things still could be tense, he was making an effort not not
make it worse. It would just take time. He offered an arched brow and
a half smile. "Its not lunch time already is it?"

"Well," Jeyme fidgeted. Oh how she dreaded D'hol's response. Things,
while better, were still tentative at best between them. He had been
nothing but caring given her pregnant state, however. "I just received
this letter." She laid it gently on his desk, "It look as though my
parents will be arriving today... To visit us."

D'hol's eyes narrowed considerably as he took the letter and scanned
it. "The same parents who disowned you?" His lips thinned as he read
the letter and then slowly put it down on his desk. Apparently to her
parents, her association with a ranking rider, him, suddenly put her in
their good graces. Holders. His jaw twitched and he exhaled. "Do you
want to see them?" He'd be just as happy to toss them out of the Weyr
main doors on their asses.

Jeyme was torn with indecision. Did she want to see them? Her father
no, but her mother? It would be nice to talk to her mother, especially
now that she was pregnant. She didn't have any women in the Weyr that
she felt she could really talk to about babies, not like she could her
own mother.

"I guess, well, mostly I would like to see my mother." And
unfortunately, as it was with most hold marriages, her mother and
father were a packaged deal.

He pursed his lip in thought. "Very well. But they will treat you with
respect in our Weyr. And I will have something to say to them about
just showing up as though we have nothing else to do but await their
pleasure. They're lucky that you'll even see them much less speak to
them."

He snorted and rose from his desk, walking around his desk to sit in
front of her, one hand moving lightly to rest on her side. "I'll not
allow any stress for you, Jeyme. One wrong word, one wrong gesture from
them and they're out."

The corners of her mouth twitched upward as she leaned forward into
legs, "Agreed. I will apologize in advance for their behavior," Jeyme
raised her shoulders, "but it is as they say. You can't choose your
family."

~*~

D'hol hadn't asked for a special meal. These people were going to get
typical Weyr food, nothing special. He sat back at the table, drumming
his fingers against it impatiently. He had at least cleaned up, but
wore his usual clothing. Instead, he looked at Jeyme, face set. "Don't
be nervous."

"That's like telling a dragon not to fly." Jeyme was standing, and
wringing her hands. She appreciated D'hol's presence, it helped give
her the strength of will that she would need to face her father.

A thundering knock came at the door, and Jeyme whirled around. This
was it. She automatically went over her appearance. She really wasn't
showing yet, nothing that you could notice with her clothes on, so she
was wearing a pair of her riding breeches and one of her nicer tunics.
Although she wished for this meeting to go smoothly with her parents,
she, like D'hol, refused to change who she was in order to make them
more comfortable.

"Father, Mother." Jeyme said as she pulled open the door.

Guthyre was looking as severe as always with his sterling silver hair,
of which every strand was perfectly in place, of course. His
appearance was that of a well-to-do Minor Holder, of course, and the
general smug set of his face was exactly as Jeyme remembered. Jeyme
was once again grateful that she had inherited her mother's physical
characteristics, except for the green eyes that very much mirrored her
father's.

"Hmph. I had heard you lopped off your hair." Guthyre observed, his
critical green eyes taking in Jeyme's chin-length layers.

"Oh," Jeyme reached up absently, she had gotten so use to her short
hair that she rarely even remembered what it was like to have hair to
your waist that required constant attention, "yeah."

D'hol immediately rose, his cool eyes hardening at the immediate
criticism Jeyme had been given. He moved to stand beside Jeyme, one
hand light on her lower back in a distinctly possessive gesture that
the other man, if he was any sort of man, would have no problem
recognizing. "Yes, she did. At my suggestion."

Jaevera stepped out from behind her husband, then stepped around
Guthyre to envelope Jeyme in a tight embrace. She didn't say anything,
but just held her child tightly. "You look lovely, dear. I've missed
you so." She pulled back and took a breath, cupping Jeyme's cheeks in
her hands. "So grown up. I like the cut." She looked over at D'hol and
ever the lady, nodded graciously to him. "Well, Jeyme, introduce us."

Guthyre's eyes coolly met D'hol's, not backing down, but still mildly
curious.

Her mother's hug was like a good dose of medicine, and Jeyme smiled,
"Mother, this is my weyrmate," it was the first time she had ever
gotten to introduce D'hol in such a manner, and she had to admit that
she liked it, "D'hol, he is a Wingleader and rides bronze Yumath.
D'hol, this is my mother Jaevera, and my father, Guthyre."

D'hol nodded to the both of them. "Welcome to our Weyr." His voice was
civil, but there was a bite to it as well. "It was an unexpected
visit, in many respects." His gaze swept over both parents, but
leveled on the father. It was him, he reasoned, who was most of the
issue. "Especially considering that you wanted nothing to do with
Jeyme not a few months ago."

Jaevera paled and glanced at her husband, not having expected such
bluntness at their arrival. "Wingleader D'hol, we did send a
letter..."

"That arrived this morning."

Guthyre waved his hand, "Well, you know how unreliable messengers can
be." He dismissed the hint that they had purposefully had the letter
delivered late. There was no proof at all that such a thing had
happened.

His eyes went back to Jeyme, "Your mother and I are thirsty."

Jeyme blushed again, "Of course, we have some refreshments ready. Come
in." She stepped back, as much as D'hol's presence would allow, to let
her parents into their weyr.

D'hol stopped Jeyme with a light hand on her arm. That she immediately
went to serve them when her father hadn't even asked, rankled. He
turned to Jeyme's father and spoke sharply. "Jeyme is a dragonrider,
not your servant. You will not treat her as one in her home and _will_
accord her the proper respect. If you can not, then you are not welcome
here."

Jaevera looked between the two men and quickly spoke to diffuse the
situation before tempers flared. "Of course. We apologize. May we come
in, Jeyme?"

Jeyme glanced between her father and D'hol, "Yes, of course." She took
her mother's hand and led her over to the table, "How is Gesilla,
Gathmere and Judassa?" She asked, inquiring after her siblings.

Guthyre followed behind the women, his eyes scanning the weyr that his
daughter lived in, picking out every tiny flaw. It was certainly not
very grand, not like a lady's quarters at a hold would have been. It
still rankled him that his daughter had run off to the Weyr and
Impressed. With her fine pedigree, and natural good looks, he'd had
high hopes of securing a good, profitable marriage with Jeyme.

He seated himself beside of his wife at the table. No matter, perhaps
his daughter being "weyrmated" to a bronzerider of rank would help him
secure some times about the Weyr. You could never know too many
people.

Jaevera bustled around the table after her husband sat, finding the
pitcher of wine and waving Jeyme to sit, taking over the space with
the practice of a long time wife. "They're good of course. They all
want to see you and visit. And they are all excited about the baby of
course." She poured the wine in the cups that were on the table and
placed them for everyone. "When are you due, Jeyme? " Her eyes flicked
to her husband. "And what are your plans for the child?"

D'hol had begun to relax but the question made his face go stony.

"Around the beginning of month twelve." Jeyme answered happily, but
the smile quickly faded as she raised an eyebrow at her mother's next
question, "What do you mean 'plans'?"

Guthyre was interested to hear the answer of this one, and he took a
sip of wine from his glass as his eyes flicked between D'hol and
Jeyme. Their relationship confused and intrigued him. She would have
protested at being betrothed to a man of such Turns when she lived at
the Hold. Yet now here she was shacking up with one and having a baby.

Her mother sat and got comfortable. "Well, you're both such busy
people and I know that usually riders usually foster...right?" She
glanced over at her husband and continued. "Why not let us foster the
child for you? We can give it a proper upbringing and..."

D'hol cut her off. "Absolutely not. Our child will be raised here in
the Weyr." His lips thinned and his jaw twitched, sure signs that his
temper was about to cut loose.

Jeyme reached over and placed a hand on D'hol's knee beneath the
table. She knew that her weyrmate would immediately see her mother's
offer as an insult. Not that Jeyme much cared for it either, because
she would never let a child be raised the way she had been under her
father.

"Riders do foster," Jeyme agreed diplomatically, "but it is not as if
we will never see the child or he or she will never be with us here in
the Weyr. It is not quite the abandonment that the Hold paints it to
be."

Guthyre couldn't contain his snort at that, "Don't waste your breath,
Jaevera, we raised Jeyme properly and yet she still turned out to be
just a greenrider. Raising their spawn would be no different." He had
hoped that Jeyme would agree to the child being raised back home, it
would be another chance at the son he had never had, but of course she
was brainwashed by the Weyr. And, it was quite obvious to Guthyre,
that she was completely obedient to this rider who was old enough to
be her father. It would have been impressive if Guthyre would admit
it.

D'hol rose slowly and stared Guthyre in the eye. "It is only because
you are Jeyme's father that you are not on the floor." His voice was
cold, sharp and vicious. "Jeyme protects you and your family and risks
her life to do it. Every wingleader hopes for more greenriders in
their wing. We couldn't fly thread without them. Don't you ever
belittle Jeyme or any other greenrider in my presence again." He bent,
hands on the table to peer more closely at Guthyre and his voice
became whisper soft. "And don't ever insult our child. If I hear one
more disrespectful word from your mouth, I will make sure that you
will not be welcome in this Weyr again and you will be eating nothing
but pap for the rest of your days. You are a guest in our home. Best
you remember that."

Jaevera swallowed roughly, her hands fluttering to her chest. She
looked at Jeyme, fully expecting her to defend her father.

Guthyre's eyes flickered from D'hol to Jeyme. It was clear from the
expression on his daughter's face that she was not going to say
anything against this bronzerider. The holder stood, his hand at his
wife's elbow, "Don't worry yourself, we will see ourselves out. I am
impressed, really," he said, his eyes still on Jeyme, "when she was at
home she was willful and insolent, and never ceased to make her
opinion known. I found her plenty of husband candidates," he glanced
back at D'hol, "around your age, even, to which she all declined." The
corner's of Guthyre's mouth tipped downward into a frown, "And yet
here she is, sitting at your table, quiet and obedient. That is far
more than I was ever able to accomplish."

"Come on, Jaevera, we have other business to see to before we leave."
His grip on her elbow tightened.

"All qualities of an excellent dragonrider." D'hol sneered. If the man
thought Jeyme was biddable, he was sadly mistaken. He made a fist,
cracking his knuckles with ominous intent. "Perhaps if you had tried
caring about her for more than just what you wanted, it could have
been different. As it is, thank you for being a wher's ass. I have the
better end of the bargain." His eyes narrowed. "Now get out. Do not
come back."

Jeyme watched, sadness in her eyes as she reached out and touched her
mother's hand, one last parting gesture for the woman that had raised
her.

Seeing the look on Jeyme's face, D'hol's lips thinned slightly. "But
you, Jaevera, you are
welcome to return." He glanced at Jeyme and nodded. It was all he would
bend.

Jaevera gripped Jeyme's hand, her eyes grieved as she looked back at
her husband with hope.

Guthyre barely spared a glance at his wife's look, "Don't hold your
breath." He said, steering her out of the weyr.

Jeyme hadn't expected much from her father, so she wasn't surprised
when the door shut behind them with a sound snap. She glanced up at
D'hol, a tremulous smile on her face, "Well, that went better than
expected." She had been fairly certain her father would leave wearing
a print on his face... a print that matched D'hol's knuckles.

D'hol's look was thunderous as the door closed and as he turned back
to Jeyme, he exhaled sharply. "You had to grow up with that nonsense?"
he snorted and shook his head. "Ridiculous." He looked at her face and
then wrapped his arm around her shoulders to tug her close. "You're
right where you belong, Jeyme."

Jeyme closed her eyes and melted against her weyrmate. Yes, she was
right where she belonged.

Last updated on the May 4th 2014

Welcome to Triad Weyrs!

Not So Pleasant Visit