Talk and Silence

Writers: Eimi, Yvonne
Date Posted: 22nd November 2005

Characters: Firsa, Tomone
Description: Firsa and Tomone share wine and conversation
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 8, day 16 of Turn 3

Flagon."

"Well, it's a good thing I decided to bring my own, then," the master beastcrafter smiled as he sank down in the seat next to her. "Lucky for you, I'm too old to drink it all by myself. When your puny little flask is gone, just ask the big boy. I can fill your cup for you."

"Does your wife know about this?" Firsa tapped her fork lightly against Tomone's flask. "I distinctly remember her complaining about you snoring when you drink."

He shrugged as he poured himself a glass. "She's going deaf anyway.
What will she know."

"Now, that's true love." The journeywoman clinked her glass against his in a silent toast. "You two are made for each other."

"Well, even if we weren't, we're too old to have the energy to go looking for anyone else." He gave her a wink as he took a long sip. Firsa smiled and settled back in her chair. "Count yourself lucky.
Looking is over-rated."

Tomone glanced at her and he refilled his glass. "Don't tell me _you_ haven't found your match yet."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't start." Looking for someone to 'complete' you was a dreamer's fallacy, and she was perfectly happy to be alone... although a little company now and again wasn't to be sniffed at. "I was done with that nonsense the day that Daremek left." "Nonsense? Since when is finding someone to spend your life with nonsense." The master remembered how Firsa and Daremek had been before he moved to the Hall. It was a pity to see how bitter she still was even so much time had passed.

"Since I stopped looking and found something better to do with my time," Firsa said dryly. She sipped at her wine and wondered why saying Daremek's name didn't made her insides go hollow any more.
Maybe she was forgetting him. "I like being alone."

"Ah. I see." Tomone shrugged. "I suppose being alone would have its good points too. You can go where you want and see who you want.
Sleep on whatever side of the bed you want. Snore as loud as you want..."

"'I suppose', he says." Firsa grinned, then changed the topic to something a little less personal. "Have you heard anything from River Bluff recently? The last I heard was when they quarantined themselves."

"Oh there are so many rumors you don't know what to believe anymore,"
the master said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I've heard that live stock are sick, that children are sick, that dragons are starving, that flits are carrying the disease to other holds in the area... Shards, I've even heard Master Tulyav is dead."

Firsa frowned. "Really? I hope not." Flits carrying disease... that was a new one. "I wrote to Master Tulyav once. He seemed like a nice man. Did you ever read his book?"

"Several times," the master nodded. "Ah, but old Tulyav is tough as wherry hide, and he not but two turns older than I am. I wouldn't worry about hysterical whispers if I were you."

"As long as they _stay_ hysterical whispers. I feel badly for the Beastcrafters there, having to deal with a mess like that."

"Yes, well, some of us still remember what plague can do. News of the plague started out as whispers too. But I refuse to believe it's coming again." He shook his head sadly at the memory. "I wouldn't have survived last time if my wife hadn't stayed by my side. I believe that."

Firsa smiled. "She's too good for you, Tomone."

He chuckled slightly, but a soft glow filled his eyes. "Yes, Firsa. I believe she is."

The Journeywoman was silent for a moment, and then she held out her wine glass. "All right, big boy. Fill me up."

Last updated on the November 22nd 2005

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Talk and Silence