Author's Note: Thanks to Elephants Fly in the Sky, and of course, again to ginalee!

Chapter Ten: Forget Me Not

The door flew open, and Robinton was aware only of a blur of blue, white, and brown, flying in his direction. He started to throw up his hands to protect his face from the unknown menace, but the reflex came all too late.

Menolly was upon the Harper before he could blink. She threw herself into his arms, her light body pressing against his, temporarily winding him with the force of her assault. Her heart was beating furiously, and she was so close to him that it seemed to the Masterharper as though those insistent beats came from his own chest, clattering against his ribs as if to break free and fly to her. The woman buried her face in his shoulder, and she breathed deeply into his neck, her hair tickling his face as she clutched him to her, with an urgent forcefulness that he had never imagined her capable of. He struggled to gain composure, her warmth and the smell of her hair threatening to unseat his reason.

Vaguely, he was conscious of Oldive and Jaxom staring at the two of them from where they stood, a few paces behind him. Clearing his throat, the Masterharper reached up and cupped Menolly's face, pushing it gently way from his so that he could look into her incredulous, gleaming eyes.

"Well, my girl," he found himself whispering, in a husky, soft voice that was hardly his own. "Did you miss me?"

Menolly stared at him. Taking a step back, she staggered, and had to throw one hand out in front of her to catch her balance. "Did I…miss you?" She echoed the phrase stupidly, and Robinton frowned, worried that the excitable harper might be too overwrought at his unexpected appearance. "Did I…miss you?" Her lip trembled, and she shook her head, as if trying to clear it of something.

Someone, either Oldive or Jaxom, had the sense to push a chair out for her. She sank into it gratefully, never taking her eyes off of her former master for a moment, apparently lost for words.

"Never again," she murmured, dazedly, wringing her hands out before her, unable to properly articulate the turmoil in her mind. "Never, never again. Never!"

Robinton understood. He could see the emotion overflowing from her eyes, pushing her to the verge of tears, and suddenly, he found that he, too, was choked, a lump rising in his throat. Kneeling down in front of her, he took both of her hands in his, and brought them to his lips, kissing them softly before placing them on her knees. "No, Menolly," he agreed, filling his voice with as much reassuring confidence as he could muster. "I won't ever leave you again."

How long they remained in that breathless tableau, Robinton didn't know. After several moments, he found himself breathing normally again, and was pleased to note that Menolly, too, had composed herself, the logic beginning to return to her eyes. He waited for her to speak, not wanting to set her off again with an ill-timed word. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out, and she closed it again, apparently having to rearrange her thoughts before she could say anything. Finally, she managed to get out a sentence.

"I knew," she began, "I knew that you'd come back. I've always known that you would, although I could never…I couldn't possibly have known when, or why. I waited, you see," she told him, nodding in emphatic assurance of that statement. "I waited for you, and I told everyone that you'd return, that they shouldn't give up on you, because you wouldn't ever leave us like that. I saw you." Now she looked at Jaxom, who, to Robinton's mind, seemed to be uncomfortable, totally out of his depth in the moment. "You and Ruth took off from Cove Hold, and Master Robinton, he was with you. I watched you fly away, and I tried to reach you, but you…you wouldn't hear me." She bit her lip, as if that recollection was too painful to think of for long. "But I just knew…and now you're here, aren't you."

"I'm here," agreed Robinton, feeling the desperate need to reassure her, to make her understand. "And everything will come together, now. The nightmare is over." He smiled, but there was no answering smile in Menolly's eyes, and Robinton wondered why she still looked more disturbed than pleased. Did the shock still have hold of her? Maybe she needed a few moments entirely to herself. He turned around, intending to gesture to Jaxom and Oldive that they should all three step out of the room and give the harper woman some space to collect herself.

"Mother?" A small, worried voice drifted in from the now open doorway, and Robinton turned towards it, fearing that one of the apprentices, having heard the commotion, had come down to see what was going on.

The face of the small boy standing just beyond the threshold of the room was unmistakably familiar. He was a slim lad, of no more than eight, maybe nine turns, with a shock of brown hair that fell just short of covering his eyes. Menolly stood, and hurried to him, bending to take him into her arms. Her shoulders stopped heaving as she drew back from the embrace, and, as if she had drawn further strength from it, composed her face into calmer lines.

"You're crying," the boy observed, his mouth puckered in alarm. Menolly shook her head vigorously, giving him a semblance of her usual smile.

"Don't be silly, Robse," she told him, taking his hand and turning to face Robinton, Jaxom, and Oldive. "I'm not crying, I've just been running, and I'm out of breath." But she had been crying, Robinton noticed, and the tearstains were still fresh beneath the creases of her lower eyelids. For the first time, he noticed the age in her face, and bit his lip. The Harper wasn't sure how he felt about the knowledge that his vibrant protégé could grow and age, just as he himself had done.

"Master Robinton," she was saying, in a very polite, formal way, "I'd like you to meet my son, Robse. He'll have nine turns, next sevenday."'

Slowly, Robinton came forward, and reached down to accept the small hand that Robse formally proffered. him. The boy had Menolly's tempestuous eyes, but he had the firm, confident manner of his sire, as well as Sebell's quiet complacency. Subsequently, he gave the impression of being far older than he was, and Robinton was torn between surprise, amusement, and a third, incomprehensible emotion that turned his stomach as he gazed on the boy's upturned face.

"This is Masterharper Robinton," Menolly continued, nodding at her son. "He used to be the Masterharper of all Pern, before your father. He trained the both of us, long ago."

"Oh," Robse murmured, "I know. You told me." His eyes widened, however, and he licked his lips in some nervousness, glancing over his shoulder at where his mother stood.

Robinton released the boy's hand, and made a low, wordless bow. Robse bowed back, in much the same way as he had, and the Harper chuckled to see his own mannerisms echoed in Menolly's son. Robse, he realized, was so close to his own name, that…yes. So she had named her son after him, had she? Robinton wondered how Sebell had felt about that, and then, just as quickly, dismissed that thought as a ridiculous one. Sebell would have understood. It was just as likely, in fact, that Sebell himself had picked the name, devoted as he had been to his master. Still, he found that he wanted too much to believe that the name had been Menolly's decision, so much that he forcibly turned his mind down other avenues.

Looking on Robse's upturned face, Robinton was filled with an urge to see his own son. "Where," he asked, "is Silvina? I want to speak to Silvina, before the whole hall becomes aware of my return."

Oldive and Menolly exchanged a look. "Silvina's not here anymore," Menolly began. At the stricken look on Robinton's face, she shook her head, putting out a hand to stop him from speaking. "No, she's fine," she insisted, "she's just…she's not as vigorous as she used to be. She's retired to Fort Hold, now, where she can be waited on, rather than wait on others." Shrugging, the woman let out a small, rueful laugh. "I wanted her to stay," she told him, shrugging her helplessness, "but she just wouldn't. She said she didn't' want to be the subject of pity from the very apprentices that she'd trained when she was young, and that she'd rather stay at the Hold, please and thank you." There was a good deal of respect in Menolly's manner as she spoke of the former Headwoman. Robinton frowned. He would always remember Silvina as a forceful young woman, he knew. At least she was well, at the Hold.

"And," he ventured, hesitantly, "Camo?" Robinton wasn't sure how that unexpected query would be received. Indeed, Jaxom looked surprised enough that the Harper was asking after the half-wit drudge. Menolly, on the other hand, didn't bat an eyelash. "He's in the kitchens, very likely," she assured him. "Would you like to see him?"

How much had Silvina told her, before she'd left for Fort? Warily, Robinton glanced at Oldive, but the old Healer looked as surprised as Robinton himself felt.

Sadly, Robinton thought to himself that he couldn't' very well march down to the kitchens and embrace his son. Not only would his presence create a terribly difficult stir amongst the drudges and women, but also Camo would hardly understand the need for quiet and discretion. How long had Silvina been absent from the hall, and who had been patient with the gentle imbecile after she had left her charge to make her own way? Had Camo been left to fend for himself at the Hall, after everything that Robinton had done to protect him from scorn, while he was still Masterharper of Pern?

Menolly smiled at him, drawing Robse against her side. "He's a dear thing, especially with Olos. If anyone has time for my youngest son, Camo does, and the two of them delight in each other's company. Sometimes I can't drag Olos out of the kitchens…he's always underfoot."

So she had two children. Robinton processed that information, suppressing an involuntary shudder at the thought, a reaction he couldn't, or didn't want to explain. What's more, she'd been looking after his son, even as she juggled her own. For all of her nonchalant words about Olos' attachment to Camo, Robinton imagined that she'd kept an eye on the drudge, if not for Robinton's sake, then out an unconscious knowledge of responsibility to the Hall. Everything was in order, then, despite his apparently abrupt departure. Menolly and Sebell had been excellent choices, as he'd always known. There was nothing for he, who in his time had been one of the most respected men on Pern, to worry about.

Abruptly, he was tired, so tired that he sank into the chair that Menolly had vacated, glad of something firm beneath his back to support the weight of his confusion. Jaxom stepped forward solicitously, but Robinton waved him off, still watching Robse and Menolly.
"Has your mother been teaching you well?" He roused himself to ask. "I'm sure you've heard that she was one of my brightest, quickest pupils when she was a young girl." Menolly blushed unaccountably, a gesture that reminded him even further of those days of her childhood. "Are you going to grow up to be a harper, my lad?"

Robse considered that for a moment, cocking his head to one side and peering questioningly at his mother before he responded. Menolly nodded her permission, and he smiled, almost shyly, shaking his head. "No sir," he said, "I'm gonna be a dragonrider! But…dragonriders can play music, too, can't they?"

"Of course dragonriders can play," Robinton agreed. "Anyone can play who wants to learn, and with talents like those of your mother and father, I can't imagine that you'll want for teaching."

"And now that Master Robinton's returned," Menolly added, "he can show you all those tricks that I've told you about. You'll be a master musician in no time. And," she murmured, ruffling his hair with one hand, "the most excellent of dragonriders on Pern. You just wait a few years until I'm ready to give you up." The look on Menolly's face said very plainly that, for all of her confident words, that would be a long time in coming.

Robinton found t hat he couldn't tear his eyes from the pair, the back of his mind ringing with thoughts of what might have been, had he been capable of having a child with a full set of wits. What might have been, had he been young enough to speak up that day that Menolly had told him of her intentions. So many things might have been, and even now, in this new future bred of a changed past, so many things still weren't…

"Master Robinton." Jaxom had come up behind him, interrupting his reverie. "We had better get over the Weyr, master. They need you there, now. Remember?"

"Of course, Jaxom." Shaking off the thoughtful stupor, Robinton rose, planting his hands on his hips. "If you'll lead the way, I'll follow."

Author's Note: Thank you to amere for reviewing:-) It makes me so happy when you indulge me so. 3

Chapter Eleven: Champion