When Patience Runs Out

Writers: Yvonne
Date Posted: 2nd November 2013

Characters: Vell, Eron
Description: Vell and her father have a disagreement
Location: Elsewhere on Pern
Date: month 3, day 9 of Turn 7

"You wanted to see me, Father?" Vellience stood at the door to the Holder of Stony
Field Beasthold's office, her hands clasped demurely before her as she watched
her father from beneath her eyelashes. His hair was more liberally streaked
with silver these days, and the creases bracketing his mouth carved deeper to
emphasize his frown. He frowned so much more these last few months and it was
her fault.

As often as he frowned, Holder Eron's eyes lit up at the sight of his youngest daughter.
He gestured for her to enter the cramped room with a scarred hand blotched with
black ink. "Close the door behind you."

She did as she was told, then glided across the threadbare rug to sit across from her
father. The Holder's iron desk crouched between them like a metal dragon hobbled
by ledgers. She scanned the mess for message tubes or letters and felt a pang
of disappointment when there were none. "Have you news?"

Eron shook his head. "None from the Hall, if that's what you?re hoping for." His
smile slipped into a frown at the mention of Harpers. "Expect none. We've been
over this."

"I'm sure the letter's just delayed. Yarron's.."

"I won't have that name in my Hold!" Eron barked. "You know better."

Vell bit her lip and lowered her gaze to her lap. The fabric of her gown was rather
pretty, she decided. Sturdy, but a wonderful shade of green. She smoothed it
over her knee as her father regained his temper, doing her best to hold her own
in check with meaningless observations. Until she heard from Yarron there was
no point in saying anything, and he _would_ send for her, and explain
everything. Until then, though, she and her father were like Beilor and Timor,
endlessly cycling through the same phases of a hated argument.

"Vell?" Eron said at last. "That man isn't coming back for you."

"That _Harper_. He's a Harper," Vell muttered.

Her father sighed. "At this point, it's irrelevant. Whether he's a Harper or a
fraud, the Hall won't claim him and he's not coming back. As far as I'm
concerned, he?s dead. He'd better be dead, if he knows what's good for him."

**He loves me!** But Vell said nothing, tucking that little truth deep inside her
heart where nobody could refute it.

After a moment, Eron cleared his throat. "I have had an offer for your hand."

She froze, her limbs suddenly awash with cold. Panic hit her in the belly like a
fist. "You can't?" She raised her gaze to her father to find him watching her,
his expression guarded and unreadable. "I..Father, no."

"You don't even want to know who offered?" Eron asked gently.

Vell shook her head. "No. I'm _married_."

"No, you're not. Not according to me, and more importantly, not according to the
Harper Hall."

"I'm _married_." Vell half-rose in her seat, her hands clenched at her sides. Tears
were pricking at her eyes. He couldn't do this to her. She loved _Yarron_. They
were married! "I can't marry anyone else!"

"Vell, sit down." Her father glared at her until Vell slowly returned to her seat and
unclenched her fingers. There were little half-moons in each palm where her
fingernails had bit into the skin, and her hands were shaking. "I just want you
to be happy," Eron said.

Vell snorted before she could stop herself-a very unladylike sound. "You just want
this to all go away."

"I want you to see you smile." Eron sighed and leaned back in his grand iron chair. The
iron arced above him in a twisted loop, as it had for generations of her
ancestors. "Guardsman Prucius has offered."

"Prucius!" Vell was out of her chair and pacing before she could stop herself. She felt
like she was vibrating, she was so angry. Scared. "He's almost twice my age,
and has buried one wife already!"

"Now, that's not fair?" Eron began, but Vell cut him off.

"And asking me to marry him is? He's boring and he's going nowhere. To him all I'd
be is a convenient bed warmer and child-minder. If you're going to marry me off
to someone, at least find someone better than Prucius," Vell snapped.

Eron was frowning again. "Prucius is a good man, and loyal. He would be good to you."

"But he wouldn't be good _for_ me. And I'm _married_, Father." Vell collapsed onto the
chair she'd so recently vacated, her green dress pooling around her like a
blanket of moss. "I said the words and I meant it. Through good times and ill,
right? There has to be a good reason why he hasn't come back, and why the Hall
says he's not what he said he is. I know there is. I trust him."

"Vell.." her father began.

"Get Prucius to marry one of my cousins. Shouldn't they be your concern? They're all
entirely, unequivocally unwed."

Mentioning her cousins caused Eron to wince and pinch the bridge of his nose between his
thumb and forefinger. "That lot is my brother's concern. I worry over you."

Vell crossed her arms. "I won't marry him. I won't marry _anyone_."

"Just think about it." Eron opened his eyes to scowl at his daughter. "I need you to
stop reacting like a girl and start thinking like the woman you are. Something
awful happened, but you have the opportunity to act instead of react. To choose
your way instead of having it chosen for you. So please indulge me. Take a
sevenday and think about it."

"My answer will be the same in a sevenday," Vell said stubbornly. "I _won't_ marry
him."

"Tell me that in a sevenday, then," Eron said gruffly. "And get out of here, girl.
You're giving me a headache when I have work to do."

"You're giving yourself a headache," Vell said tartly. She rose to her feet and
sketched a perfunctory curtsy before fleeing the room and Prucius' proposition.

Last updated on the November 22nd 2013

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When Patience Runs Out