Lies of Omission
Dragonsfall Weyr
Amber Hills Hold
Vintner Hall
Healer Hall
Hidden Meadows
Dolphin Cove Weyr
Dolphin Hall
Emerald Falls Hold
Harper Hall
Printer Hall
Green Valley Hold
Leeward Lagoon Hold
Barrier Lake Weyr
Sunstone Seahold
Citrus Bay Hold
Writers: Sia
Date Posted: 20th March 2025
Characters: O'rosin, Rosinel
Description: O'rosin visits home
Location: Elsewhere on Pern
Date: month 5, day 10 of Turn 12
Notes: Mentioned: Cirina, R'fayne
O’rosin cradled the baby in his arms, adjusting them a little as he rocked gently from side to side. The little one, Obric's first, made quiet baby noises against his shoulder. It didn't seem like bad baby noises, or pained baby noises, since the little one had been squawking with or at Aeoluth not ten minutes before, so O'rosin decided to let it happen. It was Obric that had passed him the baby, mostly for brotherly laughs as the brownrider tried to quickly figure out how to hold the equivalent of a squirming sack of tubers while also managing an overeager brown who needed to investigate the smallest person he'd ever seen.
Well the laugh was on Obric, because he wasn't expected to help with dinner or the boats. He was holding The Baby. His hands were tied.
His mother, Rosinel, bustled around the hearth as she eyed him with a mix of fondness and amusement. "You've got the touch. She's been so fussy."
"Coming from experience, yelling at Aeoluth _is_ exhausting." O'rosin said.
"You wouldn't know it. That's a well-behaved dragon you have." Rosinel said fondly. Aeoluth had charmed half of his family, and it was almost amusing to see how smitten his mother obviously was with the large beast.
"It took a lot of work." O'rosin said with as straight a face as he could. He would not let it slip how close they were to never seeing home again, nor how frustrated he was with the brown. "And he knows if he can't be gentle, we can't visit."
"I remember saying that to you quite often." Rosinel teased. "You weren't much older than Aeoluth is. You and your brothers used to barrel around the cothold like a pack of wild wherries. I bet the dragonets were the same."
O'rosin snorted, "You're not wrong."
She gave a knowing hum. "Speaking of work, I hope you didn't spend all your marks on the baby." She gestured at the small pile of things he'd brought and passed along to Obric's wife, who'd excitedly brought them inside to show the other aunties and in-laws. A few clothing items of various sizes, a nice blanket, a couple soft dragon toys, the fine stitching and bright dyes marking them as well-made and more expensive than most of the clothing any of them had.
"No." O'rosin lied. "I run extra duties on not-Threadfall days. Running messages, transport, stuff like that. "There's so many little ones now, a few extra pieces of hand-me-downs will go a long way. If there's anything you want but can't get at the market, let me know and I'll try to bring it next time I visit."
"That's kind of you." She smoothed the fabric, a familiar, thoughtful look settling on her face. "Is anybody looking out for you at the Weyr like this?"
"Sure. My friend Cirina does. She helped me a lot when I first arrived, and with Aeoluth when… he was small." She hadn't attended the hatching, she didn't need to know what happened. He did, however, catch the interested look she sent his way. "A _friend_, Mom."
Rosinel hummed noncommittally. "You'll need to bring her home."
"As much as she'd enjoy that, no. Not if everyone is going to make that face." Now he was trapped with the baby. Like she'd planned, probably. "She _is_ a friend. She has a guy, that is not me." Kind of. He didn't want to give those kinds of details to her. He _definitely_ didn't want to have to explain any part of the Barrier Lake party. "The Weyr is different." He said instead, lamely.
His mother made another noise like she didn't believe him. "That's what they say. Dragons and such. So there's no one at the Weyr you want to bring home?"
"No." He said quickly. Too quickly, and his mother shot him that interested look again. "I.. don't really know how serious it is."
He thought of R'fayne and nearly answered honestly. They'd been spending nights at each others' weyrs a few times a sevenday but, for all the weyrborn weyrlings and Cirina said weyr relationships were _easier_, he didn't find it easy to describe what their relationship was.
He especially didn't know how to describe it to his _mother_, of all people.
His mother reached over, tucking an errant curl behind his ear the way she had when he was a boy. “No rush,” she said softly. “But when you do, I hope you won’t wait too long to bring them home.”
O’rosin’s throat tightened, and he only nodded, focusing on the baby’s small, steady breaths.
“I won’t,” he said, even though he wasn’t sure when, or if, that day would come.
Last updated on the March 26th 2025