Only You

      Elori scrambled into the weyr and hid behind the opening. Footsteps clattered on the ground outside, but mercifully they passed by and the sound faded. It was dark inside the room, hewn out from the rock. One small basket of glows showed something dark, brown, infinitely large, and breathing. Until her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she was aware of the scent of something warm, leathery and oddly, sweet.
You are here at last, a warm voice spoke, and it took a few minutes for Elori's heart to stop banging in her chest before she realised that the voice had come from inside her own head, as it had done for the past two months and all the years before.
"Where are you?" she said.
I am here, in front of you, the voice replied, and now she could see him. He lifted his massive head, his eyes whirling in a kaleidoscope of gold and brown. He was a rich, chestnut brown and almost as large as a bronze. A handsome beast, though scarred from many battles with thread. Elori stepped closer, under the light of the glow basket. Her feet were rooted to the spot when she saw the huge dragon, looking right at her, and yet, she did not feel afraid of him.
Of course you do not, the voice said. You know me and I know you. He added a rumble and Elori “heard” it as laughter.
"What is this place?" she said, looking around at the room, with its smooth walls. What could have carved something out like that?
It is a disused wyre, the dragon said. It is quiet.
"Don't you want to be up there, where the riders live?"
It is quiet, he repeated firmly.

      Elori slowly walked up to the creature. She had watched dragons flying in the skies over the hold as they left the High Reaches Wyre, but had never encountered one so close. In her childhood, when this voice had spoken to her in her mind, it had never shown itself to her, so why now?
Because I could not. Because you needed to hear me and it is time that you knew me, the dragon said. I am Varenth, but you have always known me as Vary, and I know that you are Elori.
"I've run away from my family." Elori said flatly. She sat down beside Varenth, surprised at herself that she felt no fear of the huge beast. The endlessly long journey away from the hold near High Reaches and the horrors she had escaped, eclipsed a mere brown dragon.
I did not know why you wished to leave your home, that was not my concern. I merely aided you in your escape.
"My father wanted me to marry an old man, who had had five wives already, and lots of children."
And you did not want to marry an old man? Varenth asked. Age is immaterial, my own rider is a very old man, but he still fights Thread.
"It was not his age that was against him. It was because he was of my father's mind, and believed that women should be obedient and kept hidden away, and worse." Worse than the average holder's women endured, certainly.
So what do you want?
Elori had thought about this very subject at odd moments during her long journey to Bendon Weyr, but this dragon was the only one who had ever asked her that question. "If I have to marry anyone, and I don't suppose I will, I'd want someone who would be kind and wouldn't want to stop me from, from… living."
That rumbling laughter again, and his eyes whirled. He raised his head and listened.
Quickly friend Elori, he said, hide behind me, on the other side. My rider approaches, but it is not yet the right time.
Elori scrambled to her feet and raced around Varenth to the side of him that was shielded from the glow basket. She sat down in the straw, protected by the darkness and the big dragon. Right time for what? She marvelled at how easily she had accepted that the voice that had spoken to her, guided her for most of her life, had come from a dragon.

      A man staggered into the dark wyre. From Varenth's description, Elori had expected to see someone quite elderly. She could barely see him in the darkness, but this man could not be described as old. Middle aged perhaps, but not old, easily younger than her father.
"Where are you Var, you old bag of bones?" the brown rider said, slurring every other word. "Can't see you hiding away in here. What y'doing? You were talking to someone." He was carrying a plate of bread and cheese and a mug of klah, which he placed with exaggerated care on the ground, before slumping down into the straw beside Varenth. It took him a few minutes to fold his long legs comfortably and then he leaned up against the dragon. It was obvious that he was drunk. The smell of sour wine filled the space of the wyre. Elori held her breath, from the other side.
He will not harm you.
"Who do you mean?” the drunk man said, "I'd like to see anyone try, I'd punch him Between. D'you mean that stupid bronze rider I had a row with tonight? I swear, if he doesn't shut his flapping mouth about Oldtimers, I really will punch his head."
Elori only just managed to stifle a laugh, and Varenth chose that moment to "huff". Really, this tall, drunk man was no different from her brothers. Then he did something that showed how very different that he was, from her brothers. He began suddenly to weep. Ugly, sobbing, completely broken, and heart-wrenching. Elori had to fight against her own instincts not to run round and hug him. She knew that sound, she had made it herself, more than once. Grief and loss, and desperate loneliness that would never end. Her face was wet, she was crying in sympathy, but held her hands over her mouth to keep it in. She knew that he would not be pleased to know that his grief had been witnessed, even by a stranger. She leaned into Varenth and waited.
Eventually he calmed and rinsed his face in a bowl of water, presumably that had been meant for Varenth to drink.
"Sorry Var," he said. His voice had that ragged, beaten and exhausted tone that only comes after a violent bout of weeping. "It just got to me tonight. Too much wine, again. Don't let me drink that much." He sighed heavily. "We left a lot behind when we came Forward with T'Ron, didn't we old friend. Why did we do it? We've done the job, Pern is saved, but none of us fit into this world now. My family've gone, hundreds of turns ago, and none of them knew where I went. Most of us are dead, gone Between, or exiled. Why didn't we just go back? We could have done it, jumped back and landed a few years after we left."
It would have killed you, Varenth said.
"Would that have been so bad?"
You would have been missed from this time. Perhaps not now, but in time yet to come.
"You're always talking about the future, but I've no idea what you're on about Var. But I'll have to believe you I suppose. All right, I'll make a bargain with you. I'll wait, for one turn. If nothing changes I'll decide what to do then. Good night, you old boney creature."
Good night R'vell. I hope that your dreams are pleasant ones.

      After R'vell had left the wyre, Elori stood up to go, but Varenth stopped her.
Wait for a few minutes, he said. You are hungry, eat the food he has left.
She got up and walked round to stand in front of the big brown's head. Yes, she was very hungry. She all but inhaled the bread and cheese. The klah was cold, but very welcome.
You understand? Varenth said. You are needed. This was why I urged you to leave your hold. This was why I drove you on and would not allow you to rest until you were here at last.
"Me?" Elori squeaked, ignoring the dragon's smug and frankly arrogant statement. "What could I do? I'm holdless and unless I can persuade the headwoman to let me work here, I have nothing. And he is a dragon rider. What could I do to help him?"
The headwoman will employ you, I will make sure of that.
Elori looked down at her gown; an old, much worn thing, patched and faded blue. She had stolen it from someone's washing line, somewhere, to replace hers when its shabbiness attracted the wrong attention. Would a headwoman want to employ someone so ragged?
      There was silence for a few minutes. Elori could not hear what was being said, but she had the impression of dragons talking round to other dragons; a heavy pressure inside her head.
It is done. Present yourself at the kitchens this evening. And in return, will you help me?
Elori tipped the bowl of water out and refilled it from a large bucket by the door.
"I'll try," she said, "I can't say more than that. I don't really understand what you want me to do, but I'll try."
Varenth nodded. You heard what he said? He is lonely for his lost family and friends.
"I could try to be a friend to him. Goodness knows, I could do with a friend myself, apart from you of course Vary."
And there is this to say for you: you were not here when the Oldtimers caused trouble. You have no prejudices.
"I suppose that makes sense," she said slowly. "All right, as I said, I'll try."
Elori looked at him, considering the bargain, and left the wyre.
And if you will help R'vell, you will also help yourself, Varenth said, but this time he kept his thoughts to himself.

(three sevendays later)

      Elori leaned against Varenth's front left leg and sighed. After the rotten day she had had, it was heavenly to take her troubles to her friend in his weyr and know that he would listen, unconditionally. The night was quiet. Most of the dragon riders and the women of the caverns were celebrating someone's birthday in the weyrhall. The big doors of the hall banged and slammed as people wandered in and out. The kitchen workers were being kept busy, and Elori knew she should have been there instead of hiding beside the big dragon in his weyr. But no one would miss her, and surely Manora would understand. No one particularly wanted to get to know her, the way she would cock her head to one side and smile, as though she listened to distant voices. Worse, she answered the voices. If asked, she could have told them that it was only one voice.

      "You haven't told any of what I've said to R'vell, have you?" she asked anxiously. Elori was just a little nervous of R'vell, despite having seen him at his worst ebb. Dragon riders were notoriously possessive of their dragons, and she wondered what he would think of her if he knew that she, a lowly kitchen worker, could hear every word in Varenth's mind.
Would it matter if I had? Varenth said, and Elori winced at his amused tone. Knowing that he was equally aware of her thoughts, she struggled to hide how she felt about R'vell. She thought of a day, last sevenday, when she had been sent near the lake on some errand or other, where the weyrlings and older riders bathed their dragonets. She had stood, transfixed, watching, while R'vell scrubbed at Varenth's brown hide. He was beautiful; tall and slender, with dark brown greying hair, a short grey beard, muscular, and wearing only a pair of thin trews that were practically transparent. The puzzled touch of Varenth's mind on hers made Elori had realise that she was staring, and she had turned away quickly.

      As Varenth had made her acutely aware of his rider, she could hardly miss noticing him. In the crowded weyrhall, while riders and cavern dwellers sat in groups, enjoying communal meals, R'vell preferred to sit alone, in shadows near the fire. Perhaps, Elori thought, he was like her. Joining in the day-to-day life of the weyr, but not part of it. R'vell was the only Oldtimer left in Benden Weyr. He was different enough from the crowd that he had become a touchstone to Elori. If R'vell was in the hall, then Varenth would not be far away. She had honestly tried, she told herself. Quietly placing a jug of klah within his reach, when he sat in the weyrhall. Or always wishing him a "good day" if she walked past him. Trying to engage him in conversation was a wearying battle. He barely glanced at her and replied with only the occasional grunt. There were days when she despaired of ever keeping her promise to the brown dragon. Days when R'vell preferred to hold on to a cup of wine or ale. Sinking deeper into a mire of his own making. He never seemed to notice her, while she, to her embarrassment, realised that despite him ignoring her best efforts, being painfully aware of his loneliness matching with hers, she had moved past sympathy and was falling in love with him, one tiny piece of her heart at a time. And it was all the fault of a big, manipulative, brown dragon.

      Varenth shifted and rumbled until he was sitting. He nudged her. She smiled, and lay down against him, the one place in Benden Weyr where she always felt safe. It was a cloudless and chilly night despite being summer, so Varenth gently covered his friend with a wing. Her breathing deepened and slowed as she sank into sleep. Varenth hoped her dreams would be pleasant, then he laid his giant head down and waited for his rider to obey his dragon's summons.

      R'vell stood, hands on hips, looking at the charming scene.
"Is she your girlfriend?" he said quietly, grinning. Varenth gently rumbled. The girl sighed and shifted to her right side.
Don't wake her up Varenth said.
"Don't think I'd dare," R'vell said. He hunkered down, leaning against Varenth. His dragon's companion was a girl, not tall and not exactly a beauty, though her features were delicate. Light brown hair, nondescript, not someone who would attract a second look, or even a third, though he had a nagging feeling that he knew her, or had seen her somewhere. There had to be something intangible about her that made a brown dragon allow her to fall asleep next to him. He leaned forward for a closer look. The girl's left eye was surrounded by a dark bruise, and a sleeve of her gown was torn, finger mark bruises on her arm showed through the tear.
"What happened to her."
A young rider just out of training who had far too much wine thought she was fair game. She hit him with a pan to show him how wrong he was, and he hit her with his fist. Varenth's tone was disgusted and R'vell could not blame him.
"And she came to you?"
She always does. She is my friend. Her name is Elori.
How on Pern had he not known that? R'vell thought, and Varenth answered him with a snort. Dragons rarely spoke of other humans by name, so there had to be something about this girl to have befriended the oldest dragon in the Weyr.
"You'll be telling me next that she can Hear you?" R'vell said.
She does, and I hear her.
Curiouser and curiouser.

      "She can't stay there all night. I know I've slept here leaning up against you like that a time or two, but it can't be comfortable for little girls and kitchen drudges."
She is not a little girl, Varenth said with an acerbic touch. I do not bother myself with children. And Elori is not a drudge. She merely works in the kitchens.
"Well all right, I won't argue with you Var, she still can't stay here. Manora might be looking for her. I'd better wake her up."
Then do it gently.
So, wake up a sleeping girl; sorry, woman, without frightening her or upsetting one very large dragon who had decided to turn maternal and protective. R'vell sat down on the ground to consider the problem. Only to find it solved for him when Elori opened her eyes.
"Hello," she said, half asleep. She sat up, stretching and yawning. R'vell noticed that she seemed to avoid looking directly at him. Perhaps she just needed a little time to explain why she had gone to sleep on his dragon. Was she afraid of him? Not possible, not with big Varenth beside her. He sensed some kind of exchange going on between his dragon and the girl. She nodded, and then turned to look at R'vell.
"What hour is it?" she said. Not too late. I do not think you have been missed.
"Do you usually go to sleep with dragons?" R'vell said.
"No, just Vary."
Vary; so the big idiot had a nickname. Dragons were routinely given shortened forms of their names, but only from their riders. The non-Impressed were rarely close enough to any dragon to want to give them affectionate names.

      A night-bird flew into the weyr through the open door and landed on Varenth's back. The dragon whiffled gently, but the bird was scared and flew away. Elori patted him.
"Silly boy", she said tenderly.
"So how long has this been going on?" R'vell said, just managing not to laugh.
"Since I came to Bendon, not so very long. Varenth is a good friend," Elori said. She hunched her shoulders, seeming to fold in on herself. So, a topic not to be discussed then. Especially as Varenth followed up with a mild, but warning rumble. R'vell stood up and held out his hands to her.
"Come on, it's too cold to sit here," he said.
After a moment's hesitation, she placed her hands in his and let him help her to stand. She stumbled, and fell against him. For a moment that seemed to go on forever, the world was still and quiet. An unexpected moment, and in that moment he found himself holding her in his arms, and she looked up at him. Her eyes were dark green with tiny flecks of gold, like sunlight shining through the forest. An amused rumble from Varenth broke the spell. R'vell gently touched her bruised eye.
"If that's no better in the morning," he said, "go and see the healer."

      The doors of the weyrhall opened as they left Varenth's weyr, and lights blazed, illuminating all the dark corners of the courtyard. R'vell took off his jacket and draped it around Elori's shoulders. If anyone noticed her torn sleeve there would be too many questions to answer. But the wine must have been flowing freely, as no one took any notice of the pair passing by on the way to the kitchen caverns. R'vell towered over Elori, she was barely as high as his shoulders, and she had to skip to keep up with his long legs.
      Manora stood in the doorway into the caverns. She did not look at all happy, but that was her usual expression. She stepped forward, a sharp remark ready on her lips, but she stopped when she saw the bruise on Elori's face.
"The nasty culprit who did that has already confessed, thanks to his friends," Manora said, with a smile. "And he's condemned to scrubbing all the pans we used this evening, and every evening for a sevenday. His age group are banned from drinking anything stronger than klah for the same sevenday, which will not make him popular with his friends." She took another look at the bruise around Elori's eye. "Hmm, you can see the healer tomorrow."
R'vell nudged Elori. "Told you". He felt inordinately proud to have made her smile, echoed by Varenth's amused growl.
"Thank you brown rider, for bringing her back," Manora said firmly, which was obviously a dismissal. R'vell nodded politely and began to walk away. Elori ran after him, carrying his jacket. She gave it back to him, then gestured for him to bend down, and quickly kissed his cheek.
      R'vell watched her run back into the cavern, touching his cheek where she had kissed him. He wondered where he had seen her before and why he felt he knew her.
"So what was all that about?" R'vell said, finding Varenth still in his weyr. "I had a cup of wine and a comfortable seat by the fire, then you started yelling at me to come outside". He clapped the big dragon's hide. "You sly old bag of bones, you wanted me to find her. Why?"
You have no friends and no family in this Weyr, and you are lonely and that makes you feel sad. She has no friends or family here either, and she is lonely, and feels sad. You are my friend and she is my friend. I do not want my friends to be sad.
"I thought I'd got better at hiding it," R'vell said, moved at his dragon's concern. "Trust a dragon to know everything."
      The hall doors had been closed and the revellers had all dispersed. R'vell and Varenth were alone in the silence again, with only their thoughts for company.

(three days passed)

      The weyrhall was quiet that evening, only a few people were in at scattered tables. R'vell's usual place by the hearth was not shared by anyone else, as usual. One and all instinctively avoided that corner of the hall and left it to the morose Oldtimer. He was slumped over, cradling a cup of ale and wondering if he could slip away and go to his quarters without anyone noticing and commenting, when two cups of klah was placed on the small table beside him. He looked up, to see Elori standing beside him. She wore a different gown, a green one, without a torn sleeve, the first egg be praised, and the bruise around her eye was all but faded.
"May I join you?" she said, "Unless you'd rather be on your own."
"That would be rather ungentlemanly of me," he said formally, "especially when there's a pretty girl nearby."
"Don't be facetious," she said. "Vary asked me to come here, but if you'd rather I didn't..."
"I'm sorry. I've been indulging in sad thoughts and even sadder memories. Nice of Var to notice, and even nicer of him to send you."
She sat down beside him. "He said something like, I have two friends and my friends do not know each other. They should. He's a funny one, and he won't accept "no" as an answer."
"How did you get to know him?" R'vell said, abandoning the ale for the klah.
Elori hesitated, gazing into her own cup of klah. "I had been indulging in sad thoughts and even sadder memories," she said quietly, and he tapped his cup against hers.
"Comrades in sorrow," he said, and she smiled.
"That's two things we have in common, sad thoughts and we're both friends of a silly big brown dragon," he added. "That's a good beginning,".
      She blushed a little, or was it just because they were sitting so close to the hearth and the fire. R'vell held out his hand.
"Let's begin again. Hello," he said, "I'm R'vell, brown Varenth's rider, and I am one of those dreadful people known as the Oldtimers."
"As you're Vary's rider, you couldn't possibly be dreadful," she said, taking his hand in hers. "He wouldn't stand for it."
"As you're Var's friend, perhaps you could count me as a friend as well, and tell me why you had sad thoughts and sadder memories. Mine is the usual sad old tale," R'vell said, though he smiled to take some of the sting out of it. "Lessa arrived out of the future and told us that Pern would perish without us. So here I am, 450 turns or there about, out of my own time, 500 turns since I was born. And I had another reason for leaving." He took a deep drink of the klah.
"Want some more?" Elori said softly. R'vell shook his head.
"No, if I don't say this now, I never will."
Some instinct made Elori take hold of his hand again. Sorrow calling to sorrow, or the gentle but pressing touch of a dragon's mind on hers.
"I left someone behind," he said flatly. "Her name was Salina. I thought I loved her, I thought she loved me. But just before Lessa arrived, Salina told me she was going to have a child, and it was not mine. He was another rider, a bronze. She had ambitions. He stayed behind, and it seemed like a good idea to put a very long stretch of time between them and me."
      Elori could not think of anything to say. She shifted closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder, still holding onto his hand. She had never forgotten the terrible sound, when R'vell had sat in the straw of Varenth's weyr and wept. Even then she had had to fight against the wish to comfort him. Sorrow calling to sorrow. She wrapped her arm around his chest and hugged him close. He looked down at her and gently kissed her forehead.
"Hey, it's all right. It's all past," he said, surprised, "they have all gone a very long time ago."
      Varenth's mind touched his, showing him something. A dark weyr, Varenth's weyr. Too much wine as usual, collapsing at Varenth's side. Then something else, someone else. Sitting in the straw on the dark side of the brown. He looked at Elori, she had cried with him, which was oddly comforting to know.
"I knew Var was shielding someone." he said quietly. "There was a part of his mind that he wouldn't share with me."
"You're not angry, are you?"
"I should be, a man's dragon should be his own. But no, oddly, I'm not. And how are you able to hear Var anyway?"
"I don't know, I just can. Vary said it was because I needed to hear him."
"Can you hear any of them here, at Bendon? Apart from that old bag of bones."
"No, only Vary. And he isn't old, don't call him that."
R'vell had to laugh, she sounded fierce, defending his own dragon. A few people looked round, not used to hearing laughter from that particular quarter.
"After 500 years he should be positively dessicated, like me," R'vell said.
      Elori sat up and stared at R'vell for a minute.
"Fool," she said, in the same tender tone in which she had spoken to Varenth. "Perhaps one day I'll tell you my sad tale. I had better go. Manora will yell at me if I'm not back in the kitchen in a minute."
She leaned forward and kissed him. A gentle, warm, and affectionate kiss, and then she had gone, leaving him alone by the hearth.
"Don't say a word Var. Not one," he said.
He heard the rumble of laughter in his mind. I have no words, the big dragon said.

      “Are you busy?” R’vell said, leaning against the door jamb of the kitchen caverns.
“No R’vell,” Elori said, “I love to scrub plates for fun. I could scrub them all day.”
R’vell grinned. “Manora,” he called, spotting the wyre’s headwoman at the far side of the kitchen, “do you mind if I borrow Elori for an hour or two?”
“I do not mind.” Manora said. “Go on girl, you’ve worked hard today, you’ve earned some time, more than these lazy good-for-nothings.” she added, glaring at the four drudges who were watching.
R’vell grabbed Elori’s hand and half pulled her into the courtyard.
“Slow down,” she laughed, “where are we going?”
“We’re on dragon washing duty, Var’s orders.”
“And if Vary says so, we all obey of course!”
“That’s the idea!”
      Varenth was waiting by the weyr lake, but, Elori noticed, he was harnessed for flight. R’vell considered her.
“Hmm, we’re not going between, but you might be cold.” He took off his jacket and wrapped it around her. She put her arms in through the sleeves, which hung down past her hands. R’vell laughed.
“You’re just a tiny thing.”
He picked her up and deposited her on Varenth’s back, then climbed up in front of her.
“Hold on tight,” he said, turning back to her. She promptly wrapped her arms around his waist. Which made him laugh again, echoed by Varenth.
“Not that tight. I like to breath occasionally.” He felt her laughing behind him as she loosened her hold.
“Well you’ve flown dozens of times, I never have.”

      Varenth took off suddenly, leaping into the air from the ground in a moment. Elori tightened her hold.
“Sorry,” R’vell called, “I forgot how nerve-wracking that is.”
“Not so much nerve-wracking as bone shaking,” Elori said, breathlessly. R’vell laughed again. Three times in just a few minutes.
      Elori thought of the dragonrider who had taken hold of her arm and spoken to her in the weyrhall two days ago.
“Try and cheer him up, can you?” he had said, with a nod in R’vell’s direction. “We’re getting a bit tired of seeing his gloomy old face every evening.”
She snatched her arm away from his grip. “Maybe if you tried to talk to him, get to know him, I don’t know, maybe include him now and then. Then he wouldn’t be so gloomy and might even smile a time or two.”
The rider had looked at her, astonished. “But he’s an Oldtimer,” he stammered.
“And what does that matter? He’s still a dragonrider and fights thread with you. It doesn’t matter when he came from, he’s worth your respect and friendship.” She swatted him. “And
don’t call him old, I won’t allow it.”
      Nevertheless, she had joined R’vell in the weyrhall every evening, to drink klah and talk of old sad things. Gradully, she had led the conversation to the present. He was not as ready to talk about what was and could be, only of what had been. But she believed she was having an effect on him, when whole evenings went by and he did not so much as touch the winesacks.
      She smiled, thinking of how astonished that dragonrider would have been to see “Gloomy” R’vell laughing. He patted her hand, and she leaned her head against his back. And that was the moment when she realised that she loved him, completely. She remembered his words in his dragon’s weyr, that if nothing changed in a turn, he would probably try to jump back between to his own time. What would he say if she tried to persuade him to take her with him? Perhaps she could convince him to stay.
That is the idea, the voice of the dragon sounded in her mind. She had a moment of panic, that R’vell could hear her too.
Do not worry, Varenth said, I can talk to two people at the same time.
“Is this a private conversation, or can I join in?” R’vell said.
“We might be talking about you,” Elori said, laughing. She kissed the back of his neck. How could it be possible to feel so happy, so light-hearted? Or was that light headed?

      It felt as though they had been flying for hours instead of just five minutes, when Varenth landed at the edge of a small lake. Far from the Weyr, it was quiet, no one around. It was a lonely place and yet, with the afternoon sun shining on the water and the meadow around the lake, it was peaceful and tranquil.
“We often come here,” R’vell said, “when we don’t want to compete with the crowds at the weyr lake.”
“Too many dragonets and weyrlings,” Elori agreed. It was nice without the young ones, splashing about and making as much mess, mischief, and noise as they could. A raptor circled lazily overhead in the cloudless sky. The air was warm, soft, and full of the scent of meadow flowers.
R’vell took a leather bag down from where it hung from the saddle.
“Here you are,” he said, “sweetsand and a couple of scrubbing brushes.”
“So I’m back to scrubbing,” Elori said with a wry smile.
“More fun than scrubbing plates though it’s messier.” He looked her up and down. “I know that’s not your best gather dress, but you might want to take it off if you want to go back halfway dry.”
Before she could say anything, R’vell was busy stripping off his clothes, down to thin cotton trews he wore under his wherhide trousers. Elori did not know quite where to look. While she was considering it, he took the harness and saddle off Varenth, who looked back at her with a quizzical expression. She sighed, well all right, in for a 32nd mark, in for a quarter mark. She pulled off her dress, much patched and worn, like the only other gown she owned.
“That as well,” R’vell called, as he led Varenth into the water. ‘That’ being her shift, which left her in only a breast band and underwear, and feeling very exposed. Perhaps, she thought, it wouldn’t be so awkward if she was in the water. So she scrambled down the shallow bank and ducked under, coming up at the opposite side of Varenth to R’vell. He threw a scrubbing brush over Varenth’s back and she caught it.
“Here,” R’vell said, suddenly and alarmingly standing beside her, “rub some of this sweetsand on him.”
She took a handful and leaned forward against Varenth, bracing her feet in the mud of the lake bed.
“Stop a minute,” R’vell said, and by his tone, Elori knew he had a view of her back. Shells, how could she have forgotten? She felt his hands on her back, tracing the weals, some old and fading, some not so old, long dark red stripes against her pale skin.
“What fardling deadglow did that?” he said.
“My father,” Elori said, flatly. “The belt taught us how to live the right way, according to him.”
“Girls as well as boys?”
“Girls especially. I got some of those for asking too many questions. He half killed one of my brothers for teaching me to read.”
“This is what you didn’t want to talk about before. But have you shown Manora? She would have some ointment or other that would make these fade.”
      Elori turned round quickly. “No!” she said, “I am not letting anyone else see. I wouldn’t have let you see, but I forgot.” She ended, listlessly.
He pulled her close to his chest and hugged her. That was nice, that was rather lovely she thought, nestling into him. His bare skin was warm against hers and she could feel herself trembling.
“Are you cold?” he said gently.
She smiled. “Not now,” she said.
      He bent his head and softly touched his lips to her cheek. A gentle, affectionate kiss, meant to be nothing more than gratitude that she had once shared his grief and had allowed him to share a little of hers. He told himself that it was nothing more than that, could be nothing more, considering the 450 or so turns he had lived before she was born. So it was a surprise but not an unwelcome one, when she responded by kissing him in return, her mouth on his, her arms around his neck. Under the inexorable pressure of her mouth, his opened enough to let her in, kissing him with longing and desire. A thousand years went by, and the kiss was over in the blink of an eye.
“You know, I really do like to breath,” he laughed. She hid her face on his chest in embarrassment, appalled at the fierceness of her own response.

      To cover her confusion, she turned to Varenth and began scrubbing the big beast’s hide.
Not so hard, he said, you’ll scrub my hide off.
R’vell laughed. “I nearly did that when I first impressed,” he said. “Like this. Not too hard and scrub in circles.” He put his hand over hers, and they scrubbed Varenth together. They fell into a rhythm, R’vell scrubbing higher and Elori scrubbing low, walking around the dragon, as the sun rose higher in the sky.

      When they had scrubbed as much of the dragon's hide as they could, they walked out of the water and sat on the grassy bank. Elori sat beside R’vell, leaning against his shoulder.
“When did you impress Vary?” she said.
“I was 15, no, nearly 15” he said. “Terribly pleased with myself, especially as I was only at the hatching to see my foster brother impress. He didn’t, but I did.” R’vell laughed. “Var cut me down to size though. By the time we were past the weyrling stage, I was not quite as swollen-headed. It’s a lot of work, taking care of a big lump like him.”
“I thought that when you impressed a dragon, well, they were all you needed.”
“That’s true. “R’vell’s face brightened with a smile full of joy. “And he was. Even when I had the strangest feeling that sometimes he was talking to someone else.”
Elori blushed. Perhaps it was not the best time to tell him that Varenth had been talking to her, across the turns.
“And yes, he was all I needed,” R’vell continued. “Except that I still had family then, parents, a brother, fosterlings. And I wasn’t part of a disgraced and dishonoured group of riders.”
      Elori kissed his neck. Her fingers traced the marks of threadscore on his back. He shivered.
“Are you cold?” she whispered.
“Not now,” he said. He pulled her onto his lap. He kissed her face, her neck, her shoulders, with the same hunger and passion as hers. Elori had the strangest feeling that she wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. All she wore was her underwear, but it was too much, too many clothes. His hands were on her, stroking her and all she could think, incoherently was “please don’t stop”. She almost said it out aloud, when suddenly she was cold, sitting on the ground and he had moved away.
“This is wrong,” he said raggedly. “You’re too young. I’m far too old. It’s too late, and I can’t.”
He got up and slapped Varenth.
“Come on out of it,” he said, “we’re going back.”
Elori lay in the grass, hugging her knees to her chest. She couldn’t cry, she couldn’t feel, it was too much. Slowly she managed to get the trembling under control. No tears, she was not going to let him see her cry. Her hands were shaking as she pulled on her shift and gown, and managed somehow to get her shoes back onto the right feet.
      The sun was still shining. It was still a lovely and peaceful lake. But there was a cold spiteful wind blowing over the surface of the water. Elori stood watching it, dry eyes. She felt that she would never be able to cry ever again. She was cold, and dead inside. It was too much to bear, this terrible loneliness that swept over her. She climbed up onto Varenth behind R’vell.
“If you don’t hold on, you’ll fall off,” he said quietly. Would that have mattered, she wondered. She held him around the waist as lightly as she dared.

      When they reached Benden, the sun was already sinking and the heat of the day had all but gone, vanished along with Elori’s hopes and dreams. She mentally shook herself for her stupidity in giving her heart to a man who had forgotten what love was. He had left his own heart behind, over 400 turns ago, he had none to give. Just before they landed, R’vell turned to her.
“Don’t waste your time with me,” he said. “For the first egg’s sake, find someone your own age, I’m too old.”
      Once Varenth’s feet touched the ground, R’vell slid down and raced towards the weyrhall, leaving Elori to climb down as best she could.
“Gone to get drunk again,” Elori said bleakly.
It is not right. It was not meant to be this way, Varenth said. I looked ahead and it was not this way.
He lumbered across the sands of the Bowl towards his weyr, Elori following for want of anything better to do. She still felt a cold, heavy weight inside her. Somehow, she did not know how, she managed to reach Varenth’s weyr, sank into the straw, and fell deeply and mercifully asleep.

      When she woke up, it was night. Sounds of laughter came from the weyrhall as people were leaving, streaming out into the Bowl. She wondered if R’vell had been there, sitting alone by the hearth and trying to drown himself in wine.
      He is not there, Varenth said. He has gone to his quarters. He has gone to his bed but he is not asleep. He cannot sleep, his mind is troubled and disturbed.
      There was an odd comfort in knowing that she had that effect on him. She got up and shook the straw from her skirt. She had had enough. Enough of trying to jolly a morose old dimglow along. Banging her head against a wall in Vary’s weyr would be more productive. She left the weyr without another word. When Varenth would try to project his words into her head, she deliberately muffled it by mentally running through every scrap of songs she could remember. Eventually he gave up, his voice fading until there was nothing.

      The bathing pool in the lower caverns was quiet as it was so late. A couple were splashing about at the far side of the pool, laughing and scrubbing sweetsand on each other. Elori stayed at the shallower end and scrubbed hard at her skin. Twice she was almost overwhelmed with grief and had to fight to damp down the tears. After a while, she took a handful of finer, scented sweetsand and washed her body more gently and carefully. After drying, she picked up her underthings and shift, and put them back on the bench. What was the point? Her gown was worn and patched but at least it was reasonably clean. As she slipped it on, it caught on some of the recent weals that she reopened by scrubbing so hard.
“Nearly scrubbed my hide off,” she said with a wry smile, then was doubled over with the sudden and overwhelming weight of grief. She sat on the bench, desperately fighting against giving in to it. While the couple at the other end of the pool continued to laugh and splash about.

      After leaving the pool, she should have gone to her little room in the living quarters behind the kitchen caverns, but her feet took her out into the Bowl, and back into Varenth’s weyr. He opened one large golden eye and stared at her.
“This night is not over yet Vary”, Elori said. “If he thinks I am going to leave this here and try to forget him, then he is very much mistaken.”
      A rumble of approval sounded in her mind. What she was planning to do shocked her hold-bred instincts, but, she told herself, if she was going to prevent R’vell from doing something completely stupid, she would have to put those instincts to one side.

      She crept out of the weyr. It would not do to wake anyone. The Bowl was empty now, and most were asleep in their own beds, or someone else’s. She had the ridiculous urge to laugh hysterically but dampened down inside herself.
“Vary,” she said, projecting her thoughts again. “I’ve suddenly realised I don’t know where he is, you are going to have to guide me.” I will do better than that, I will take you there. Wait for me.
      It was a relief to know that she would not be running around the rider weyrs after all. Of course, R’vell’s quarters would be high up above the Bowl, with a ledge outside for a dragon to lie on. Varenth arrived and she climbed up onto his back, holding on tightly to his neck ridges. Again, he jumped straight up, and flew a little to the right. The pounding of his wings echoed the pounding of her heart, beating together. She was amazed that no one else could hear it. He landed on a ledge on the second tier from the top of the rim of the dead volcano and Elori slipped down. Before she could breath and change her mind, Varenth jumped away from the ledge and flew away. She suddenly felt terribly small and alone. What was wrong with her? What on Pern made her think she could seduce a man nearly 15 times her age, when her father would have been beaten her for even looking at such a creature? Maybe she should just call Varenth back and forgot the whole misbegotten venture. But then maybes seldom were.
“Well,” she muttered, “in for a half mark, in for the whole mark. For the first egg’s sake, don’t anybody laugh or I might just cry.”

      It was dark in the room with no glow basket to lighten it. She stood still for a minute to let her eyes get used to the gloom. Then she saw him, lying face down on his bed with a sleeping fur covering him to the waist. She slowly walked towards him. No movement, he was completely still. Asleep? But Varenth had said not. He could not have failed to hear the big dragon landing on the outside ledge, and taking off again. She kicked off her shoes and sat down, gracefully and gently on the edge of the bed.
“I don’t how you can call yourself an old man,” she said, boldly, “when you behaved more like a silly weyrling after his first kiss.” Nothing, but his shoulders seemed to relax a little. She tentatively touched him on the back of his neck. Still nothing, he was not going to make this easier for her. She gently trailed her fingertips across his naked back.
“I’ve waited a long time for you. At least 500 turns. I’ve been very lonely, waiting for you to catch up. Don’t you think it’s time you did?”
      Still nothing. She stifled the sob that was threatening to erupt from her throat. She bent down and kissed him where her fingertips had been. He still did not move. Completely drunk? She didn’t think so.
“Vary,” she said, “has he died of old age or just ignoring me?” He turned a little to one side. Obviously he had heard her, and his dragon had also conveyed her words to him, hopefully with an added sharp remark. She stood up and pulled her gown off, folded it neatly and put it on a chair. Sliding under the sleeping furs, she snuggled up behind his back.
“All right weyrling,” she said, stroking his back, “I have a confession, so listen carefully.”
Ah, a tiny movement that she almost missed showed that he was listening.
“I love you, you silly clunch, and I don’t want anyone my age. I don’t know why, you’re such a grumpy old uncle, sitting by the fire, mumbling your gruel. Maybe it’s me and I just like grumpy old men who’re really silly weyrlings. But if you push me away again, I swear I will shove you off your dragon from a great height. And Vary wouldn’t blame me at all.”

      R’vell leaned up on one elbow, grinning down at her.
“He’d probably help you,” he said. He turned over and slipped an arm under her, and pulled her close. “I’m sorry. All I can say is my head must have been addled on the long jump forward.” He snapped his fingers. “Of course, now I remember. It was you, wasn’t it? You kept bringing me klah when all I wanted was more wine.”
“It’s not good for you to drink so much,” she said primly.
“And you always said hello or good day when you walked past me. And I was a complete dimglow and didn’t see you.” He kissed her. “I did see you, I just didn’t want to. Wallowing in between, I was and I didn’t want anyone to jolly me out of it.”
      While he talked, Elori stroked his chest, letting her fingers trail lazily down his stomach. She felt the muscles twitch and shiver, and he seemed to be finding it difficult to keep his mind on what he was trying to say. Her hand fondled his hip, his breath was ragged. She smiled, feeling him tense under her wandering hand, as she slipped it gently over his hip and across his buttocks, so lightly she was almost tickling him.
      While she was considering where else to explore, he turned to face her, and she wrapped her arms around him. They lay still like that for longer than she thought possible. Every inch of her touched him, his skin was deliciously warm. Surely he could hear her heart pounding in her chest. She felt faint with wanting him.
“I’m too old,” he said quietly, stroking her face. “You are lovely, but I’m too old.” Shards, how was she going to persuade him otherwise?
‘Vary,’ she called mentally, ‘can I have a little help here?’

      Whatever was being said, Varenth kept from Elori, only R’vell heard him. Before the dragon had finished saying whatever it was he had to say, Elori took advantage of R’vell’s distraction to kiss him, long and deep. She put everything into it, her love and longing for him, loneliness calling to loneliness, all of it. He seemed to have no objection to being kissed, that was good, she could do that all night. But the hours were passing, and everyone would be waking up, and Manora would need her in the kitchens to work, and…
Stop thinking, Varenth said, your mind is spiralling. Stop worrying, it achieves nothing.

      “Stop thinking,” she said, unconsciously echoing Varenth, “We’re in the meadow by the lake and the sun is shining. Take no notice of the moon outside, it’s pretending it’s not the sun. Now, where were we?”
      He stroked her back, tracing the weals with gentle fingers. She snuggled into his chest and kissed his neck.
“We could just go to sleep, if you want to,” she said diffidently, suddenly shy and unsure.
“Might not be a silly idea,” he sighed. “I’m an old man y’know, not used to all this enthusiasm. That’s the privilege of the young.”
“If you don’t stop calling yourself old, I am going to be really cross.”
R’vell chuckled. “Sweetheart, you look about as cross as a dragonet just a day out of the egg.” He sat up, pulling Elori upright with him. She tucked her head under his chin.
“We have to face it. I was born 50 years before Lessa turned up from the future. Which makes me older than you, even if I came from this time. What is it, 20 turns between us if you only count now? Even in this time that’s not usual, is it?”
He felt a tiny trickle of tears running onto his chest.
“You made me cry again.” she said, muffled against him. “Can’t think why I love you so much when you keep making me cry.”
“That’s why I said you should find someone your own age.”
“Will you open your glow basket? Waggle your ears if it helps you to listen. But get this into your head, I will not find someone my own age. I don’t want anyone my own age. I love you.” She spoke slowly and carefully. She felt utterly weary, worn out with fighting his fears.
      Fears, she thought. Afraid of what?
He is afraid of loving you and then losing you. He could not stand one more loss, he has lost so many, so it is easier not to let himself love you. Yet, he does love you, though he will not admit it to himself. You must have patience friend Elori. And I have not told him that, this is for you and I.

      “I’m not giving up,” she said, “but I’m too tired to think now. So sit up all night and worry about what it is you want, I’m going to sleep. Let me know when you’ve made up your mind.” She cuddled into him with her head on his chest.
No more worrying now friend Elori, I will talk to him.
As she drifted away she felt R’vell gently stroking her back. A conversation was going between him and his dragon, but she had nothing to do with it. There was nothing to do but sleep.