Another One Bites the Dust

Writers: Heather
Date Posted: 7th January 2016

Characters: Westyn, Demran, Waylle, Gaesyn, Gesylle, Wesla, Hevena
Description: Westyn comes home to a disaster.
Location: Emerald Falls Hold
Date: month 3, day 1 of Turn 8

"Oh come on, Wes, Ysrella is an attractive woman. A little long in the
tooth, but that makes her perfect for helping with child rearing." Demran
reasoned as he passed a crate of wine down to a pair of waiting hands.

Westyn rolled his eyes as he pointed to the kid helping to put the wine on
the covered wagon they were preparing for a Gather.

"I've told you a thousand times, Dem, I'm not looking for a wife. That's
the last thing on Pern I need." There would never be another woman for him,
not after the death of his beloved Gaylle.

Demran shook his head as he handed another box down, "You're thinking about
this all wrong. Look at how many marks you are spending keeping a woman
paid to tend and watch your kids. If you just _married_ someone it would be
free."

Westyn gave his older brother a deadpan look. "I'm telling Avialla you said
that, I'm sure my sweet sister-in-law would love to know her husband's true
thoughts on marriage."

"Hey now," Demran stopped unloading and raised both hands, "I'm just trying
to be logical, there's no need to bring Avialla into this. Faranth knows my
ear is still ringing from the blistering she gave me the last time I put my
foot in my mouth." He grinned and tugged at his left ear.

"That is your forte for sure, how you ever managed to get Avialla to marry
you is still a mystery to us all."

"Some secrets lie under the bed furs, little brother." Demran winked.

Westyn grimaced and held up his hands. "Thank you for that."

Demran barked out a laugh and reached for the next crate. "Go on, get home,
I'm sure those kids are driving Hevena crazy by now. I've got this covered."

Leaving his brother to continue packing the wagon, Westyn returned to the
Hold just as the orange dusk of the evening began to settle around the
horizon. By this time he knew that his children should all be home from
harper lessons, fed, bathed, and hopefully working on homework.

However, what Westyn found when he walked through the door of his quarters
was beyond his wildest imaginings. Feathers littered the main living area,
there seemed to be red paint splattered from the ceiling to the floor, and
Hevena was sitting in the midst of it sobbing into her hands.

Rushing into the fray, Westyn knelt in front of Heven and placed his hands
on her shoulders. "Hevena! Hevena!" When her sobbing didn't cease he gave
her a little shake. "Hevena, what is wrong? Where are the children?"

Hevena brought her hands down from her eyes, and turned her red-rimmed blue
eyes on Westyn. "Th-th-they-y-y kilt mah' chicken!"

Westyn blinked for a moment. "They _what_?!"

"M-m-my p-p-poor Livinia!" She sobbed.

Looking up, Westyn realized that his children had lined up in front of the
fireplace, their heads hung with their hands clasped behind their backs. He
didn't buy this act for a second.

"Waylle." He growled his oldest child's name.

The slender girl, who was beginning to develop into a woman (something
Westyn refused to see) stepped forward.

"Yes, Papa?"

"Explain." He ground out between gritted teeth.

Waylle wrung her hands together. "The chicken isn't dead, Papa, I told
Gaesyn not to do this."

Westyn's steely eyes slid to his thirteen Turn old son."Gaesyn, where is
the chicken?"

Gaesyn's fake look of repentance melted into a sullen frown as he walked
from the room and returned shortly with a disgruntled, but perfectly fine,
chicken.

"It was just a joke." He huffed as he shoved the chicken into Hevena's
arms.

"Livinia!" Hevena hugged the chicken to her chest. Chickens weren't exactly
common place, nor were they generally pets, but the last time the children
had played a prank on Hevena she had threatened to quit. Acquiring the
chicken for her had been the only way to keep her.

Hevena pushed to her feet, splotches of red blossoming on her cheeks. "I
quit, sir!"

"Hevena, wait-" the door slammed as the blonde disappeared through the
portal.

**That's the seventh nanny in the past Turn.** He thought to himself.

Jaw tight with anger, Westyn turned his eyes back to his four children.
"Gaesyn, go to your room, I will be in to deal with you shortly."

All eyes in the room turned to watch the boy stomp off to his room in a
huff. With his son out of the way, for the moment, Westyn turned back to
his daughters.

"Waylle," he spoke to his oldest, "I expect you to be a better example to
the younger kids, you know better than this. Why didn't you talk Gaesyn out
of this silly prank?"

"I-I... because..."

"Because she stayed late after harper class to talk to a _BOY_!" Gesylle
cheeped in a sing-song voice.

Waylle's eyes widened dramatically as she shot a hot glare at her sister.

"A boy?" Westyn's eyes narrowed. He knew that many considered his sixteen
Turn old daughter to be of age to marry, but Westyn was far from ready to
give up his firstborn.

"It's nothing, Papa." Waylle insisted, although there was irritation
evident in her voice now.

"I don't want you talking to a boy without a chaperon with you, do you
understand me?"

"But Papa, he's just -"

"No buts." Westyn clipped.

"UGH!" Waylle threw her hands into the air, rolled her eyes and stomped off
to her room.

Only two children remained in the room, Gesylle, the tattle-tale ten Turn
old, and the family baby, Wesla, who was five.

"Gesylle, what part did you play in all this?" He asked.

Gesylle looked much less brave now that she didn't have anyone to tattle
on. Her lower lip puckered a bit. "I got to toss the feathers around. It
was fun." Her voice came out as a whisper.

"The next time you participate in one of your brother's stunts I'm going to
tan your fanny, do you understand?"

A solemn head bob was the girl's only response apart from a sniffle that
sounded like a precursor to tears.

"Good, now go to your room."

With Gesylle's departure that left only Wesla, sweet little Wesla with her
long, brown braids on either side of her chubby face.

"Papa?"

Westyn crouched down in front of his daughter, "Yes?"

"Are you going to whip Gaesyn?"

Ah, his tender-hearted baby. Wesla's eyes were glassy with unshed tears.

"I will take care of Gaesyn. You go to bed, hm?" He pulled her to him for a
hug and then sent her on her way to the room she shared with Gesylle.

With a sigh Westyn straightened, closed his eyes, and rubbed his hands
along his neck. Another nanny. What was he going to do? His children were
starting to gather a reputation, he doubted he could find another nanny so
easily.

Walking over to the wall he picked the leather strap from the hook where it
hung. **Maybe Dem is right, maybe I do need a wife.** He thought as he
walked in to Gaesyn's room and closed the door...

Last updated on the January 12th 2016

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Another One Bites the Dust