3.11.195

H'ric raised his head and looked around the Records room. He had been sitting here aimlessly pushing his lists around, he realised, whilst being aware of someone moving up and down the stairs into the two conjoined weyrs.

"Mima? Is that you?"

His foster mother swept the curtain aside and came in, her movement disturbing some of the old musty parchments on the benches. She looked around, at the glow basket, at the disorder, at H'ric dishevelled appearance.

"So this is your lair, is it?"

"I have work to do." He gestured vaguely around the room, aware of a pounding headache, gritty eyes, and an ache in his right ankle where he had been supporting his left foot on it under the chair, a bad habit of his.

"And so I see, and the rest of your life to do it, eh?"

Her face softened and she came into the room and laid an arm around his shoulder.

"H'ric, pet, stop it," she murmured. "You're flogging yourself to death, and it won't do the Weyr any good if you're out of it."

He leaned back into her embrace, smelling her special cordial.

"Who's sick, Mima?"

"Your lady, of course. But then you wouldn't know that, would you? You scarcely exchange a glance with her, nor a kind word either, I would doubt? What's the matter with you, don't you know she's your responsibility as much as the Weyr or that feckless old fool out on the ledge, complaining he's swept off all the Ista sand and wanting more?"

H'ric stared up into her face, untangling her speech which as usual was also interlarded with exclamations, huffs and puffs, and her special cynical expressions of doubt. He had edited those out, effortlessly, as he always did.

"Jiverny is sick? How long has she been sick?"

"I'm not the one to tell you that, am I? You're her weyrmate, although from the state of her bed, you disdain her as well. When was the last time you two slept together?"

H'ric blushed to the roots of his hair.

"Er - well - we don't - I mean - I haven't - since - "

Mima let go of him and stood away.

"So I wrung out of her. Once, eh? And is that enough for a bond between you? Eh?"

"A - bond?"

"H'ric, you daft little thing, you and the lady have to run this Weyr, yes, and the rest of Pern, for the entire Pass to come! To do that, you need to be united. Now go and have a nice bath, and wash that horrible tangle of hair, and go and at least sit with the lady!"

She swept out of the room again, and the dust settled, and the parchments whispered together, and H'ric ran a hand through his hair, finding it greasy and tangled as Mima had said.

His mother had been proud of his hair, he thought irrelevantly. Proud of the way it curled naturally into the shape of his face after a hair cut, proud of the strength and vitality of it, as dark as Crom coal itself, she always said.

H'ric stood up abruptly, and shielded the glow basket, and went out to his weyr. Galanath was awake and turned his head, poking it into the weyr.

- she is very kind

"I know. Sorry - have I been neglecting you? Ista sand?"

- I would like some more, if the wing is going to practice there soon

"I'll see about it. And about speaking to the Weyrwoman."

-Heveneth is very pleased

"Pleased? About what?"

But Galanath had withdrawn his head and H'ric gave a huff of exasperation as he stripped off his clothes, climbed into the naturally warm water and scrubbed himself down, feeling better and more relaxed as he floated in the pool. Staring up at the rock ceiling, he wondered how many other Weyrleaders had lain here and pondered that very question.

Dry, and dressed in his nightwear with a thick robe that had belonged to R'tin, H'ric went through to Jiverny's quarters, knocking hesitantly before he entered.

Jiverny was lying down, and he was shocked to see how pale she was. He came over and sat down by the bed, viewing her anxiously.

"Mima was by," he said.

"Yes. She's concerned, but I've told her I'll be fine."

"Is it a fever? Something you ate?"

She reached out a hand and took his, sat up in the bed and shook her head, staring at him.

"You have made me pregnant," she said.

H'ric was aware of another deep burning blush consuming his whole body.

"I've - what - when - I didn't realise - are you pleased?"

Jiverny nodded slowly.

"I think I am. I have never fallen pregnant before, and I am not a young woman, but Mima seems to think it will be fine."

"Is that - the reason you wouldn't come to the Benden Gather?"

"I couldn't go between that early in the pregnancy. I shouldn't go between at all in the nine months of pregnancy. I know you thought I was being - cold - indifferent - I would have loved to have gone."

Her gaze found the wooden ornaments he had bought her at the Gather, when he had come back and told her about it.

"There will be other Gathers."

"As there will be other days for you to fret and worry over the Weyr? You look exhausted, H'ric, and you have been going between far too often, combing the planet for likely support."

"We need support."

"Granted. But there are several Turns, we hope, before the inevitable? Pace yourself, Weyrleader, and apportion some of your tasks to your Wingleaders. C'lin is being difficult about R'tin's wing, isn't he?"

It seemed easier to get into bed with Jiverny than sit on the hard chair, and they moved around a little, adjusting, settling, and he told her about the bronze rider C'rin and his young but intelligent dragon Amroth, the pair he wanted, although C'lin was holding out for the older pairing of M'dor and Cirith.

"I like young C'rin," Jiverny murmured. "You must speak to both pairs."

"Yes, I'll do that. Have you seen the healer?"

"Oh, I didn't trouble him, although he is very good at his work. Do you like him?"

"Yes, I do. He talks a lot of sense to the riders, about their own health. It's partly because of his suggestions I want to put some of those games in place that he recommended. We could make them into contests at Turnover festival - that would give people something to work towards."

"Weyr folk as well as riders?"

"Oh yes, everyone could compete. Prizes?"

"Silver cups would be nice, with a name engraved."

H'ric nodded, and they talked about Ista, where he had been, and promised Jiverny he would take her again.

"And the Lord Holders?" she asked. "Benden and Telgar are the most supportive?"

"I had hoped Lemos and Bitra would also be generous, but they are holding to the letter of the law with the tithe. But so long as they send what's due, and I keep speaking and writing with courtesy, that's the best I can do there, I think."

"Harper and Healer Hall?"

He shook his head.

"I haven't been there yet. I visited Fort, but they were cool, very cool. I did win agreement I could use the Weyr to corral and fatten stock in each season, but I think that will be the extent of it."

Jiverny leaned up on one elbow and traced the frown on his face.

"Let it go for now," she said. "That's all to face again tomorrow and the next day, but you must pace yourself and get some rest."

"Yes. And you - I need to take better care of you, lady."

"You have given me what I thought I would never have, although I will not count it until the child is birthed," she said in a quiet voice.

He embraced her clumsily, and if the first kiss they exchanged was a little awry, the ones after it were surer, and then they had moved together into a climax of giving to each other and fell asleep in each other's arms.