Our Weyr (1/2)
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: Corrin, Sia
Date Posted: 17th April 2025
Characters: Q'vettan, Veytra
Description: Q’vettan is summoned to visit his dear, sweet, old mum-- who is fretful about the current Holdless situation
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 5, day 10 of Turn 12
Notes: Mentioned: Qelhelias
The autumn wind coming off the plateau had teeth, and Q'vettan was no longer used to the biting cold of his home Weyr. It was days like this where he missed the heat of Igen, but was grateful for the (relatively) milder weather of Barrier Lake. Dragonsfall itself looked much the same as it had when he was a weyrbrat sprinting through the lower caverns with ink-stained fingers and demanding to keep up with the older boys. He'd spent part of his restday visiting Elhelia and Kyperion, catching up on the news of the day before dropping in on his son at work. The final visit required Tzenketh to meet him in the weyrbowl and, with a few great beats of his wings, dragon and rider landed on his mother's familiar weyrledge.
}: Holding time. :{ Tzenketh observed, }: Settled in layers. A shawl across the shoulders. :{ He rumbled a welcome to the smaller green. There were more freckles of grey across her muzzle.
"Anyone home?" Q'vettan called brightly into the weyr as he slid down Tzenketh's side, as if they hadn't checked in with each other when he'd arrived.
“Don’t stand out there catching a cold-- come in, come in!”
The weyr was a warm haven of nostalgia as Q’vettan stepped in. Little had changed about its neat, cozy furnishings. They were a little older, a little more worn perhaps, but weren’t they all? His mother, Veytra, who had been whittling by the fire, rose to meet him. She looked as spry as ever, despite her retirement, and was bundled in a heavy knit shawl the color of moss; her silver streaked hair combed back in a neat, no-nonsense bun. She held out her arms to envelope him in a tight embrace that smelled of herbal salve and lanolin.
“Oh, look at you,” she said when she pulled back at last, holding him at arm’s length to get a good look. Her weathered fingers adjusted his collar and fixed his knots, lingering fondly on the weyrharper cords. Then she tsked. “You’ve gone and lost weight again, haven’t you? Are they overworking you at Barrier Lake? You always did get lean when you’re working too hard.”
Q'vettan pulled her into a tight hug and let her fuss over him. Of course, his collar and his knots didn't need fixing, but the attention was necessary all the same. "I'm keeping busy." He admitted easily, though he didn't think he'd lost weight. "Nothing as exciting as an attempted murder investigation anymore, at least. A few arbitrations here and there. We'll have another hatching feast soon, but thankfully I have other harpers with the temperament for party planning. And how are you finding retirement?"
“It’s terribly dull. I’ve been taking watch shifts where I can, just for something to do, but you wouldn’t believe the gall of some places. Every remote little cothold thinks they’re Faranth’s gift to Pern. No one wants a seasoned greenpair to guard their gates. They puff and bluster and demand one of the Boys. Ha.” She scoffed dismissively. One of the rare Interval riders, she knew her worth.
“But enough of that. Sit, sit--put your feet up,” she pushed him towards the couch. “I’ve got klah steeping and I _think_I have some of those nutcakes you like. Unless your son’s eaten them all. He’s back at the weyr, you know-- Of course, you know. He has your sweet tooth, that boy.”
"The redfruit doesn't fall far from the tree." Q'vettan agreed, "I won't begrudge him the gluttony. There's few folks who can bake quite like you."
Last updated on the April 25th 2025