how can you be so grouchy when there is pie?

[glamourie]

He was excited! Gathers were probably Rawign's favourite thing to attend for the simple reason that they had the single best bubbly pies on all of Pern. No specific Gathers were any better than anywhere else, either, as far as that was concerned. He waited and looked forward to them solely to buy a pie or two, as they were his favourite things in the world. People could say what they wanted, but when it was cold, rainy, dreary, depressing outside, there was nothing quite like a bubbly pie to soothe one's nerves and chase away the sulking that came with such dreadful weather. Even in the warmest summer days, bubbly pies were the most sought-after treat by the dark-haired Healer. He was a pessimist, in foul moods more often than not, looking for the worst in everything... except when pie was present. Why, it almost made him into a regularly chipper, friendly individual. Such was the power and allure of fruit.

Unfortunately, the line for the bubbly pies was outrageously long. Long enough, even, that Rawign had whined and actually wandered off. Yes, whined, audibly enough that Beggar had scolded him (As if he was one to talk?!) and flew off to find more interesting companions. After glaring after the little firelizard (How dare he ditch him!), Rawign had wandered off to the jewelry stall to look. And then promptly scurried away. Usually, he was decent enough at saving his marks, since he only bought necessities and bubbly pies. However, the last Gather before coming to Selenitas, he ended up buying quite a lot of things for his trip, and in the process, spent everything he had save for three and one-eighth marks, which really wasn't that hard on him since he only intended to buy pies. But the jewelry stall was expensive! He'd briefly considered piercing his ears until he saw the price. Maybe some day, but definitely not that day.

Nevertheless, the Gather itself was going very well from the looks of things, and Rawign had nothing to complain about; he had, after all, expected the jewelry to cost an arm and a leg, so to speak. Maybe he'd go check the Tanner's stall? He liked looking at the belts and boots, even though his own were fine. Rawign glanced in that direction and started over to it when a familiar sight at the Harper stall caught his attention. Tilting his head, the Healer raised his eyebrows and ambled to the stall before greeting absently, "See anything you like?" If it occurred to him that he was probably not welcome talking to her, it never showed on Rawign's face. As far as he was concerned, he was in a good mood, pleasant spirits, dressed in gather finest, and everyone ought to have been in as good a mood as he was. Then again, Marra wasn't exactly known for her good moods, but even her dark temperament wouldn't get him down. He was adamant!

[Administrator]

Marra was busy looking at the Harper Stall, trying to decide what she needed more. Back at her apartment, she had both metal pipes and short-pipes, as well as a plain, old, battered gitar, but right now, she wasn't sure if she should keep saving for a fancy gitar or just buy the fancy hand-harp now. She sighed. Perhaps she should just buy plain things. Signs of luxury were signs of gluttony. Then again, they were of much finer quality, and a true sign of a professional musician. She frowned, and touched the fancy hand-harp, letting her calloused fingers run along the gilded gold on the wood, letting them dip into the intricate carvings. They were of flitters, dragons, dolphins... She smiled a little, then moved on. She should keep on saving. She had a hand-harp already, plain, but workable. One that she had made herself, she thought with amusement. But still, to have a good hand-harp like that would be nice. But the gitar needed replacing before her hand-harp, so she must keep saving.

Reluctantly removing her fingers from the carvings, she didn't even flinch when she heard Rawign's voice. "So, following me around some more?" she asked lazily, moving downward to investigate the fancy floor harp. Pretty, but she didn't need one. The Weyr had a floor harp for her to play when needed. Which she would have to tonight. She smiled. She would get to perform at the gather, both by singing, accompaniment, and conducting groups of apprentice choirs. Deciding not to bring it up right now, however, she moved along through the wares. She didn't want Rawign to feel like he had to stick around just to see that- or be chased off because of it.

"Marra?" the vendor asked. Frowning, she looked up, then blinked in surprise. "Metrol?" she asked with delight. The man, tall and dark-skinned, grinned, his extremely white teeth glittering in the warm sun.

"I haven't seen you in over a turn!" he declared, almost accusingly. Marra chuckled. "You were the one who taught me how to play the gitar!"

"And look at you! You're so big!" she told him, just as accusingly as he had to her. He chuckled, his bass voice strong.

"I could probably pick you up like a ragdoll now," he admitted. "I just turned seventeen turns the other sevenday, and already I tower over the Masters." Now, they were talking like old friends, with Rawign seemingly ignored. Marra snorted at Metrol. Ah, good old reunions...

[glamourie]

... Following her around? She was a conceited thing. Rawign blinked at her, completely blanking. He hadn't come to the Gather in hopes of seeing her, he came because there was bubbly pie and ... Rawign tended to... be willing to do just about anything as long as there was pie involved. He opened his mouth to reply when Marra became quite thoroughly distracted, but rather than interrupt or feel snubbed, he smiled slightly, and proceeded to spin on his heel and walk off. If she was going to talk to someone else, he wouldn't bother her; it just wasn't his way. He'd talk to her later when she was alone, maybe, if he didn't gorge himself into unconsciousness on pies.

Which was where he went, bobbling up to the bubbly pie seller only to spot a familiar face sitting at one of the tables like a regular grouch. Inclining an eyebrow, Rawign walked over and plunked right down next to the shorter and considerably fairer boy before leaning against him. "Are you always so pleasant, Lir?" he asked, amused.

Keliris lifted his head, reddish-brown strands falling over his face. Of the two, Keliris was the younger, but only by a Turn. Appearance-wise, though, Keliris looked at least two or three younger than Rawign, save for the unpleasant scowl he wore. The younger boy always had an agitated look on his face, if any emotions showed; anger or complete blankness were the two feelings he seemed to vary between, although in truth he was rarely truly angry. Keliris just had a habit of being nasty for the sake of chasing other people away from him, or for sheer love of arguing, the latter of which got him into quite a bit of trouble considering that he was often too proud to back down... even when he was wrong. Especially when he was wrong.

Unlike Rawign, who had come to the Gather on his own accord and was in delightful cheer, Keliris was in a foul mood. His brother Kaliran had talked him into coming... then wandered off to drool over the felines, like a deadglow. Keliris was left alone, with no marks saved up and nothing to do. He'd much rather have remained at the Weyr with the other perpetual grouches and bothered someone else, if anyone cared what his opinion was. He hated being hauled around or outside. He liked being left alone. And Rawign tended to annoy him solely because he was not very good at getting under the Healer's skin anymore. He'd tried. The first sevenday he could actually make Rawign blow up at him... then nothing. Annoying.

"Don't you have Marks? Go be frivolous with your savings," Keliris grumbled, folding his arms on the table top. Then he promptly dropped his forehead to his arms, earning a bemused smile in response. If he could see it, he probably would have been even more agitated.

"I don't think they have an herb for what's wrong with you, unfortunately. If they did, I would say that was worth spending my marks on. Come on, I'm going to buy us pies," Rawign replied before grabbing the other candidate by the arm. Then he pulled Keliris to his feet, earning a look that would have made Kaliran run for the hills in response. Rawign, however, was completely unscathed; he was used to such looks and besides, Marra was better at looking murderous than Keliris. Lir he could dangle the idea of wine in front of to calm him down, after all. "Do you like the berry ones...?"

Glowering, Keliris jerked his arm away from Rawign and gave him a baleful look before countering with, "I don't like any of them. Go away. Shouldn't you be harassing that Harper girl you like so much?" A casual glance over his shoulder at the Harper stall made Keliris smile - and it was not a pleasant expression. "Oh! You got spurned. I see. No wonder you're --"

"What? I did not get spurned." Indignant was Rawign and it showed on his face as he glared at Keliris. The glare earned him a smile before Rawign actually grabbed Keliris by the arm. The furious look on his face was enough to make it clear Keliris had said something that touched a nerve, though even Rawign would have denied any reasoning for it aside from the fact that the other candidate was clearly being ridiculous. "I'll show you - she's just talking to an old friend, first, second I don't even like her, she's unpleasant, uncivilized, about as friendly as you are --"

"-- and yet you spend so very much time around me --"

"-- and she's a child on top of it all!"

Yet, despite that, the Healer actually forcibly hauled Keliris across the square to the Harper stall again. Keliris put up relatively little resistance, wearing a knowing smirk that Rawign wanted to turn and promptly knock off of his face. The two made quite the pair, the taller of the two looking like an agitated older cousin or something, except that physically, Keliris and Rawign did not look remotely related. One was fairer skinned, one was darker, and while both had dark hair, the dark brown with reddish highlights was noticably lighter than Rawign's true black. And Keliris had bright amber eyes, readily recognizable versus Rawign's deep, dark green, nearly black ones. There was nothing that would have marked the two as kin... except that Keliris was laughing as they came stumbling back up to the stall. But anyone who knew him would know that the laugh was not a friendly sound, but rather, one of mockery. Not spurned, his backside!

[Administrator]

As Marra was busy chatting with Metrol, she didn't notice that Rawign had even disappeared, let alone returned. It wasn't until Metrol raised a dark eyebrow that Marra turned back, the glow on her face diminishing with her irritation towards Rawign and his buddy. With the put-out look, one would've thought that she was flirting with the dark man. "Still stalking me, I presume?" she asked irritably. Turning back to Metrol, she grinned. "He follows me around a lot," she explained knowingly. She didn't know why she was being so cruel to Rawign, but she assumed that she was just curious to see how he reacted. To put the icing on the cake, she added, "Well, I'll be seeing you at the dancing square tonight?"

"Of course," Metrol replied, his dazzling white teeth showing in a smile. He paused, then turned around. "Hey, Liris," he called. "Can you cover for a minute?" Whispering something in Marra's ear, she grinned. "Sure," she replied, chuckling to herself slightly. Giving a polite nod to Rawign and Keliris, she followed Metrol as he led her to the back of their stall, with their plans very unknown to anyone but the two of them.

--

Shmee bounced around the stalls, bobbing to and fro as she looked everything over. However, only one thing remained on her mind: Food. Without looking at anything else first, she plopped herself in front of the food stall, folding her arms. Oh, yes. Bubbly pie. With lots. And lots. Of cream. "I'll take ten," she told the vendor very seriously.

The man looked very amused. Sure, he got this kind of order from holdbrats and apprentices, but never from Weyrwomen. Chuckling, he replied, "That'll be one 1/2 mark and one 1/16 mark," he told her with a chuckle. Shmee frowned, then an idea sparked into her brain. Letting her lower lip tremble, she said, "That much?"

The man gaped at her. "It's a perfectly normal price for ten pies," he replied, almost sent into a peal of laughter. Sniffing, Shmee shook her head.

"1/4 mark," she said miserably. "Please?"

The man rolled his eyes. "Are you kidding me? You're too old to pull that trick off, ma'am."

This set her off. Pitching a sobbing fit, tears streamed down her face. "I'm pregnant and the father left me, and you tell me you can't lower the price just a little?!" she demanded. Harassed looking, the man knew better to argue with a pregnant woman. Shoving the pies in her direction, he hastily said, "Sold!"

Sniffing, she handed over the 1/4 mark, and slid all of the pies over to the far side of the counter, hiding a smirk. She wanted that frosting. She always prevailed.

[glamourie]

Following her -- Oh, for all the --- Rawign scowled, eyes narrowed into dark slits as he released Keliris roughly. The expression he wore quite plainly painted his agitation over his face, but the annoyance successfully masked most of everything else - namely, that he felt insulted to some degree, and that his feelings were hurt. He was not about to admit that she'd upset him to anyone, least of all Marra. He had better things to do than... than end up spending all of his time around someone so obnoxious. He did not follow her around. He didn't. Twisting his expression from a scowl to a glower that made it clear he was very annoyed, Rawign watched the two leave before throwing his hands up in the air in frustration. Well, fine, fine! Enough of all of them! Enough of Lir with his general bad attitude, enough of Marra with her ridiculous accusations and the Weyrwoman had pie --

Whatever anger he felt dissipated as he stared across the stalls, his position giving him a nearly perfect view to the tables. She had... she had ten pies. Completely disregarding that not thirty seconds previous, he'd been on the verge of severely hurting something, Rawign shoved Keliris out of the way and proceeded to bound off in the direction of the food tables with an excited gleam in his eyes. She had ten pies. TEN!! Surely she'd be willing to share one with him...?

So it was that Rawign left Keliris standing at the Harper stall. He blinked, twice, then smacked his forehead exaggeratedly before blowing a raspberry. Thththththtbtbtbt. Without a second of waiting (or a glance at the Harper stall), Keliris spun on his good foot (the one that he didn't continually jar by walking on it!) and stalked off to the other side of the Square. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck at the Harper stall where there were bound to be dozens of people and the deadglow who hauled him over was gone anyway. Eventually he'd figure out what had so completely distracted Rawign because he'd looked on the verge of throwing a tantrum over being accused of following her around only moments before. What, did someone have flashy things? Probably.

Meanwhile, Rawign practically skipped across the Square before he found the food stalls. It wasn't as though he didn't have his own marks but seeing the WEYRWOMAN order TEN pies had completely made his life for all time. Part of him was actually nervous at the idea of saying anything to her but that was drowned out by a voice in the back of his mind chanting 'Pie, pie, pie!' over and over, as if to emphasize the point. He actually sauntered right up to the counter that Shmee stood at (grateful for the fact that the chair-throwing Weyrleader wasn't there or he might have had more trepidation) and bounced in front of the table, clearly excited beyond words, "I thought I was the only adult who ordered that many pies at once." As an afterthought he added, "Weyrwoman," having temporarily forgotten to address her with her title. But but, she had pies, was he supposed to remember? Pies!

[Administrator]

Shmee was all smiles as she made a swipe at her first pie. There was a handsome dollop of cream on the scrumptious-looking surface, and Shmee made a point of getting it. Carefully sliding her fork under, she balanced nearly every smear of cream onto it, lifting it gingerly from the pie. Very little cream was left on the pie, mostly just a few little lumps that Shmee would soon destroy later. Sticking her tongue to the cream, she decided to savor this amazing taste in her mouth, the cold, rich, sweet cream that Shmee just could not get enough of! If S'rei were here, he would probably chastise her for buying so many pies just for the cream, not that it mattered. She needed this cream. That Weyrleader was just unable to understand how she needed it- right now, it may not be the most important thing, but it was right up there with oxygen...

Taking another generous lick, she blinked as a boy with candidate knots approached her. Well, perhaps not boy. He was near her age, it looked. And definitely taller. Not intimidated in the slightest (she still knew her rank), she could only nod with a smirk as her tongue played with the cream. Reluctantly detaching it (leaving a large crater in the cream), she said, "Yep!" She paused, unable to resist taking a large chomp from the white stuff. Mmm. Good! "It's more of the cream I want, though," she added, licking the cream off of her white teeth. "I like pie, but I'm pregnant and craving cream." Now licking her fork free of any lingering cream, she scraped the rest of it off the top of the pie. Licking that off her fork now, she hummed a little before moving onto the next pie.

She repeated the process of balancing the cream on her fork. "Wish I could have some wine to go with it," she said with a frown. Sighing, she called up at the vendor. "Can I have some cold fruit juice? For me and the boy here. Just 1/32 mark, please?" Allowing her lower lip to slip out and tremble, the vendor sighed, glaring at Rawign as if it were his fault. Pouring two glasses, he slid them to Shmee and Rawign as she doled out the mark before she could protest. Awarding the vendor a winning smile, she told him, "You're a love." Rolling his eyes, the vendor turned back to some holdbrats. He would get full price from them.

[glamourie]

Rawign lingered by the counter, thoroughly impressed. His eyebrows reached his hairline, and he tilted his head, smiling. She was pregnant? It didn't show too much, from what he could see. He'd dealt with pregnant women.. well, woman... once.... and he fled and pretty much found excuses not to in the future. But the Weyrwoman didn't seem to be that out of it, or that moody, as far as he could tell. That made her slightly less intimidating. Under normal circumstances he never would have approached her - he was just a candidate and a journeyman healer, she surely had better things to do than talk to someone like him - but ... but she had ten pies, and he was wondering how she managed to afford so many. Well, as Weyrwoman she surely had a higher salary but randomly spending it on ten pies? That couldn't be cheap, it just couldn't. His eyes were as wide as saucers.

"You're with child? My congratulations, Weyrwoman." He didn't know if she was happy or sad about it, but most people considered children a blessing. He, personally, was downright terrified of them until they were old enough to wobble around and amuse him, but Rawign never claimed to be normal. He didn't know whether or not there was anything he could do to make being pregnant easier on her, though, or he would have offered. Despite being skittish, especially around people of ranking position (who happened to have large dragons who could eat him in one bite), Rawign did try to be a considerate person. He wasn't very good at it but that didn't mean he didn't try. Still, craving cream was a little odd. Most cravings, to his knowledge, spawned from a deficiency or a need for certain vitamins. Then again, pregnancy itself was odd, so it couldn't be that unusual. Besides, cream was good.

Grinning slightly at the zeal she seemed to overtake the cream with, Rawign shifted his weight. He was thoroughly impressed that she had managed to take out that much cream in such a short amount of time; really, it normally took him longer, but then he tended to savor every tiny taste. He was weird about eating. Pie was the only thing he ate much of, actually. He actually felt mildly sympathetic at being denied wine, though. Ever since he transferred to Selenitas, he'd been careful not to drink much if any wine, because he didn't trust himself and his own behavior. He was a candidate, even if he didn't Impress, and that meant he needed to try and at least learn moderation. That didn't mean he couldn't drink but he needed to make sure he could stop whenever he wanted - and he wasn't sure he would be able to, if he started. He wasn't entirely comfortable at the Weyr and wine was comforting.

His eyebrows raised again as she ordered the fruit juice and he started to protest, only to have her pay before he could. The scathing look he received from the vendor was ignored as he grinned slightly, "Thank you very much. Would it be improper for me to ask you to teach me your ways, Weyrwoman? I rarely can get them to even slightly drop the price. I'm likely to pay full price for a hand-harp, solely because I don't excel much when it comes to haggling. You seem to have it down to an exact art, if you don't mind my saying so."

[Requiem]

The tall redhead, having perused the leathers before deciding none of this was of a quality deserving of a new harness for Salenth, leaned casually against the stall, chatting with the peddler. He'd removed his knots earlier so that it would be easier to blend in. As easy as it was for a man fully six and a half feet tall to blend in, that was. Merchants tended to up the price when they knew the customer had money at his disposal. It seemed, though, that S'rei wasn't going to be finding anything worth wasting his marks on. He was ever so horribly stingy, though he doubted many were aware of that. The bronzerider tended to be generous with friends and gifts, but he almost never spent any money on himself. Salenth, certainly, but the bronze would be getting only the best. He might even have to make a quick trip up north...

His eyes drifted over the crowd, noting his wayward weyrmate with some amusement. How many of those pies did she have? Shmee had been on a cream fix for a couple weeks now. He didn't at all recognize the candidate who she was speaking with, but that was all right. It was good to have some contact with people they normally wouldn't. That was the whole point of these gathers, after all.

Walking up to the pair, where Shmee was eagerly devouring the cream off of the pies, S'rei smiled blithely at the boy's comment. "Oh, I don't think a man could ever fully utilize a female's wiles. I'm sure she conned the poor bloke well and good with some half-baked sob story." His nose wrinkled, eyes flashing with amusement as he glanced at the Weyrwoman to see her reaction. Then, on a rather playful whim - it was hard not to feel light-hearted when gifted by the sight of a cream-smeared Shmee - S'rei offered the woman something resembling a stately bow.

"Oh, forgive my rudeness, my lady. Surely your man would not protest if I joined you?" He thought it might be fun to flirt a little, as if they didn't know each other. It was nice to find some time just to jack off nowadays. Without waiting for an answer, he came to lean between her and Rawign, wondering if the candidate would recognize him. If he didn't...they could have some decent fun. "Don't tell me all these pies are for you, sweetheart." His hand came up to wipe some of the cream from the corner of her mouth, then bringing his finger to his mouth and licking it lingeringly.

With a resounding laugh, he clapped Rawign heartily on the back. "We'll have to help her with those, won't we, lad?"

[Administrator]

Shmee beamed. "Thank you," she replied as she gracefully licked the cream on the fork, her tongue smoothing it out. Oh, yes, she was happy for this. Even though Mari had put her feelings down on the sands, Marra had managed to spring back up from the ashes with a vengeance. At the moment, she was planning on keeping this babe for herself, one for her and S'rei to raise in their weyr with no help from a fosterparent. Being holdbred, Shmee could hardly understand what it was like to give a child up to be fostered. No- this was her babe. Humming a little, she scooped a little of the cream with her tongue into her wet mouth. She felt like a little kid, eating sweets so happily, without worrying about getting fat. Speaking of kids, she wondered what had become of her 3-turn-old sister. She felt slightly guilty. She had been so jealous back at her home that her parents had paid so much attention to little Shivani, but now, here she was, not having seen her family in turns, expecting a child... She should go back to Hyphen and visit her family sometime. They knew she had Impressed the queen, so maybe she should have them come live in the Weyr or something.

Accidentally smearing some of the cream on her face, Shmee didn't seem to notice as she toyed with the food on her lips. "Just let me finish this and I'll tell you my secrets. It involves being pregnant," she alluded. Managing to somehow finish the cream in careful little lips, she blinked in dainty surprise as she heard S'rei behind her. She grinned, looking up at her weyrmate with an image of childlike innocence, the cream sticking out a little from her pink lips. One might have wondered if she may have done this with the sole purpose of getting S'rei's attention, but it was pure innocence.

"Conned?" she asked mildly. "Why ever would I do something like that? I just expand the truth a little!" Shrugging, she then raised an eyebrow ever-so-slightly as he bowed. Why...?

Eyes catching his lack of knots, she grinned wickedly, a naughty look in her eyes. "I'm sure he won't mind," she said airily, waving her hand as if this was nothing. Grinning at Rawign, she patted the table, indicating S'rei should sit. However, she was indignant, defensive of her pies, particularly at his comment. "Yes, I bought all these pies," she told him haughtily. "I like these pies. Well, the cream."

All of this was silenced as S'rei brought his hand, gently wiping the cream from her mouth. Watching as he licked it from his fingers, she had the sudden urge to kiss him. Not only was that an admirable move, but it also made her... want him more. Which was not the way to feel at a gather. Deciding to only meet the feelings halfway, she wrapped her arm around his neck, pulling him in. Bringing her lips to his, she simply was unable to resist a passionate, albeit brief, kiss. Let him have all the cream he wanted from this source!

Breaking away from him, she flushed, turning to face Rawign with an almost shy smile. Not bothering to explain herself, she pushed the second pie off to bring a third in front of her. Grinning at S'rei's suggestion to Rawign, she shoved the two clean pies at them. As she did this, the vendor came, an accusing look on his face. "Is this the man who abandoned you?"

[glamourie]

Involved being pregnant...? Well, that robbed him of any chance. Digging around in his pockets, Rawign lightly set down a kerchief he carried around, though he didn't speak about why. When she was through with the pie she could use it, if she wanted. He didn't want to speak and risk offending her, since he saw nothing wrong with fully enjoying one's meal, having on more than one occasion ended up half-covered in berries from his own pies. Granted, that was turns ago, but he supposed her being pregnant meant one could ignore age since the child inside of her wasn't even born yet. That was his, er, lack of logic speaking, anyway. Not to mention it was almost cute that she was smeared in cream. He couldn't help but smile slightly before bowing his head. Were all women so amusing when they were pregnant? Or was she amusing in his opinion solely because it involved pie? Questions he'd never receive an answer to, no doubt.

Rawign looked up as a man even taller than him came up next to him. (Ironically enough, he did not recognize the Weyrleader at all, having only seen him in passing and, er, at an incident involving chair throwing during which he recalled the chair more than the man.) A slender eyebrow raised, amused. He was probably right. In Rawign's experience, women were far better at manipulation than most men, and he was no exception. Usually when things called for subtlety, deception and general mischief, Rawign was left gaping like a fish, confused and genuinely not getting it; he wasn't good at lying, he usually just kept his opinion to himself if the situation arose.

Wait, what? Had he just been confused for someone else?

Looking around in confusion, Rawign blinked twice, then scratched his head before adding quietly, "Um.. you're probably right." It wasn't clear who he was speaking to and he meant it to sound that way - that way if he misunderstood one of them, he could say that he'd been speaking to the other person. Right? Right. It sounded like a plan to Rawign, except the tall gentleman looked startlingly familiar and he didn't know why. Maybe he was one of the wingleaders or something. Insane; he usually remembered names!

OH WAIT.

All it took was one small action (namely, Shmee kissing him, for who else would she do that to?) for Rawign to connect exactly who the tall man was and his brain proceeded to scream for him to run away, run awaaaay. He didn't immediately bolt, but the reaction was visible and he had to bite back the urge to squeak and hide under the table. A casual glance around indicated there were far too many chairs and throw-able things nearby for his comfort and he couldn't help but feel slightly cornered. He kept that thought to himself as he glanced around, trying to summon Kaliran or Keliris back up with sheer force of thought. Even the grumpy, pouty, annoying one would be a comfort if only because Rawign would, err, pretend to be rapt in conversation with him.

His eyebrows raised as he was spoken to again and he turned back to ... Mr. Chair-Thrower (Oh, for Faranth's sake, he'd forgotten the man's name! How could he forget the Weyrleader's name?! He knew his dragon's name, at least, but --!!) just in time to be clamped on the back. He forced himself to remain outwardly calm, which actually wasn't that hard (Pie!), but he was going to vacate the second he got a chance. Scary people. Too many chairs.

"Um, if she'd like for us to, sir-- what?"

The vendor made him look up curiously, and he missed Shmee pushing the pies forward as his eyebrows shot up. Abandoned? To his knowledge, no one abandoned anyone, but he admitted to not knowing much about Weyr politics. (Usually, that involved talk of dragons which was often a convenient time for Rawign to suddenly need to be in the Infirmary right then for some reason.) Had he missed something major? Confused, he looked back and forth before tightening his hands around his juice.

[Requiem]

Gorgeous. Shmee had always been gorgeous, but she was especially beautiful to him when she was acting more her age. The mischief in her eyes. The cream on her face. The stack of pies at her elbow. He'd come to sit beside her and found it difficult to be good. These light-hearted moments were rare with Shmee, and he very much intended to milk it for all it was worth.

A brow raised suggestively at her as he licked his fingers. If she wanted to maintain the charade, that look in her eyes would have to go unfulfilled, and how he enjoyed the torture! Didn't every man, at one point or another, want to confirm that they could drive the fair sex crazy by something so seemingly innocent? It was almost a power trip. He smirked as her hand encircled his neck, acknowledging that he'd won out over her sense of mischief, at least for now. And...hmmm...This cream wasn't half bad. He wasn't too fond of the stuff by itself, but if she wanted to kiss him after eating it, that was fine with him. More than fine. It made the kiss slightly sweet.

Of course, the Weyrleader was a bit too involved with his cute weyrmate at the moment to notice the candidate's reaction to him. He might have been a bit surprised if he had. Though S'rei certainly did have a temper, it rarely manifested himself, and most of those who interacted with him were greeted with some form of humor and good will. To be feared would have felt strange to him. He'd never been feared. Not in Benden...well - at least not openly in Benden.

Not noticing how strained things had become - mostly because the lad had been somewhat uncomfortable from the moment he walked up - S'rei was about to reply that they were saving the pregnant Weyrwoman from herself by helping her eat some of those pies when the vendor's comment interrupted his train of thought. He glanced at Shmee, slightly surprised. She must have...the minx! What the woman wouldn't do for cream these days. S'rei turned the surprised look to his advantage. "The father left you? And here I thought I was stealing you away. He must have been insane, my lady."

"I would never leave you." A small smirk turned up one corner of his mouth for a brief second, in appreciation of the irony.

His attention turned back to the vendor, the man sliding him a 1/2 mark. "Be a good man and get me a glass of that juice these two are having." Without missing a beat, he nodded to the pie now sitting in front of the candidate. "You'd best eat that before she changes her mind." S'rei took a bite of his own. He doubted he'd want more than one...but he was sure they could find some candidates and weyrlings short of change to give the rest to, so as not to waste any.

When the peddlar came back, trying to return a 1/4, 1/8 and 1/32 mark with the juice, S'rei discreetly shook his head. Much as it amused him and he was under no obligation to make up any of that money Shmee had managed to weedle out of the peddler with her fabrications, S'rei felt the man deserved a little bit of something for his troubles. The peddler seemed content with that, giving the Weyrleader a solemn nod.

"You'll be so sweet, after all that cream, you're sure to melt away!" S'rei stated happily, taking another bite of the pie. His gaze drifted toward the candidate. "Come on now. Don't you like pie? It's really very good."

[Administrator]

Shmee giggled as she scraped up another dollop of the rich, fluffy cream. Bringing it to her lips, she gently smeared a bit onto her lips deliberately, but an innocence radiated from her that one would think that as she slowly licked at the cream on her fork with it coating her lips with a sugary new layer, it was all done without knowledge. This time, however, Shmee did know very well what she was doing. Feeling particularly wicked, she slowly licked her own lips, looking at S'rei with a charming blink, her pale lids flickering over the intense blue color. She could play at this game too! With painful slowness, she licked at the fork, making sure her pink tongue got every speck of cream from the fork onto it. Would it make S'rei understand what he just put her through? She hoped so. She wanted him to slowly burn in desire all day. She knew she very well might if this trend continued throughout the gather.

This cream gone, she sighed. She should probably eat some of the pie, too. With a long sigh, she dug her fork into the center of the pie, shoveling out the dark berry innards. Gracefully inserting it into her mouth, her let it flop off of the fork onto her waiting tongue, where she rolled it around about before chewing. She smiled. It was almost as good as the cream. She supposed she should be guilty that she underpaid the poor baker, but then again, she simply didn't. It was almost as though that because she was pregnant, she was entitled to anything at her price. Happily, she munched on her pie, grinning at Rawign-- until she noticed he hadn't started eating.

She laughed out loud at S’rei’s comment. “Well,” she replied suggestively. “It’s easy to melt if something is around that heats them up.” Perhaps this was a bit too intimate for talk when near candidates, but she couldn’t help but reply with that answer. It was almost as if S’rei was asking for it!

A pouty expression crossed her face. "Be grateful for that pie," she told him sternly. "I drove a hard bargain to get it." She paused, and a mischievous look replaced her pout. "Eat, or else I'll set Aslath on you. She likes to eat little boys who don't eat their pie." At this, it was obnoxiously obvious at Shmee's joke. Rawign was easily a giant in contrast with Shmee's petite build.

At S'rei's comment on how he would never leave her, the young Weyrwoman beamed. "That certainly makes everything much better for me," she purred, her hand caressing the man's cheek delicately. "I couldn't think of anyone better to father my child. Possibly better even than the real one." She winked. "But only possibly. If that man were to come back..." She let the words trail off, stifling a giggle. Gathering more pie onto her fork, she put it into her mouth thoughtfully.

Letting her eyes widen in innocence and fake sadness, she asked piteously, “Can I please sit on your lap?” Almost like a little girl, she batted her eyes in hope of getting what she wanted. For good measure, she let her lower lip tremble a little bit.

“That is one hell of a lot of pies,” a voice remarked irritably. Marra, her arms folded over her chest, regarded the eyes with a frown, her lips swollen a not-quite-so innocent amount. Seeing Rawign, Marra acted out a smirk, wanting to let him know that yes, she did have a good time and that no, she would not tell him what happened. In reality, Metrol tried to push his limits with her and Marra rejected that. She was not the type to lose her virginity behind a gather stall. But was she going to let Rawign know this? Of course not.

Shmee frowned. “I know. I wanted the cream,” she replied desperately, looking up at S’rei. Anyone more sensitive to emotions than Marra would recognize that the pregnant woman was probably about to blow, but of course, the callous harper could read any kind of feeling except this one.

“You’re going to get fat,” Marra stated flatly. That did it. Shmee’s eyes watered hopelessly, and she looked up at her weyrmate.

“I’m fat!” the Weyrwoman announced in despair, the tears beginning to stream. “Please love me even though I’m fat?” Marra looked on, stunned, as this happened. What in the name of sweet Faranth…? Looking over at Rawign, her eyebrows raised in alarm.

[glamourie]

Umm. Rawign felt... like an outsider, which wasn't surprising, given the fact that he was dealing with a happy couple. Back and forth he looked, distinctly uncomfortable, though he didn't think it was intended. Deciding that the conversation wasn't meant for him, he was intelligent enough not to talk back to the two. Instead he cast a casual glance over his shoulder, in the direction Keliris had stalked, as if he expected to see something exceptionally interesting over there and maybe he did. But the Weyrleader's words made him look up and Rawign's eyes turned roughly the size of saucers before he pulled the bubbly pie possessively toward him, as if afraid that it would be stolen away by the Weyrwoman and he'd be left with none. Pies were his favourite food ever and no part of him was going to hesitate in accepting free ones, not even if they'd had the cream licked right off of them.

He'd actually just started to eat it when the Weyrwoman spoke of dragons eating and he froze in surprise. His eyebrows reached his hairline and he smiled, shakily. She wouldn't really let her queen eat him? Well, either way, he tried his best to play it as cool as he could, reminding himself that showing how terrified he was of the very idea couldn't possibly be to his own benefit. "I would probably give her indigestion. Nevertheless, as pies happen to be my favourite food, there's very little danger of them not being eaten. Thank you, Weyrwoman." He bowed his head politely, if only to show that he truly was grateful, and then took to munching on his pie. He hadn't been lying. Pie really was his favourite food. A slight nod was offered in agreement to the Weyrleader's statement, as if to say that he thought it was good, too, when something else caught his attention.

Her voice.

Looking over his shoulder, Rawign raised an eyebrow at Marra before taking another bite of his pie. Well she was in a disarray and he could just guess why. Why was he not surprised? He flashed on their first meeting and how indignant she became when he asked whether or not she was an expert on finding lovers. Apparently, she was after all. Were it not for the presence of the Weyrleaders, he might have commented on that fact, but he had tact enough not to act so rude to her in front of them. Or in a public place. Besides... there was pie.

Unfortunately, before he had a chance to try and say something to Marra, she was... being ridiculously mean to Shmee. It took every ounce of self-control he had not to flick food over at the Harper before stating quite firmly, the words directed at the Weyrwoman and not Marra, "Weyrwoman, you are not fat; you are anything but. Harper Marra simply lacks in powers of observation. You would think that a Harper would be able to identify pregnancy in comparison to inexplicable weight-gain, but apparently not. Marra, that was very rude." He turned to look at her, trying to signal without speaking exactly what had happened. There was a lot less scorn in his voice than there would have been at any time. The Weyrwoman looked on the verge of tears and that alone had to be startling for anyone else. He was tempted to run, too. Hopefully the Weyrleader would be able to handle the mood swing, because Rawign? Yeah. He shoved a huge bite of pie into his mouth for an excuse not to speak, the coward.

[Requiem]

His eyes narrowed, the ironic half-grin growing more rueful. At first he'd thought the cream had found her lips unintentionally, had even considered it innocence when she licked them, but as her tongue traveled over the tines of the fork with painstaking slowness, there was no doubt in his mind. Shmee was striking back at him. She'd best be careful; he was not above dragging her behind the nearest stall. Of course, that would mean he'd lost...

In response to her retaliation, S'rei merely turned his attention to his pie. He wouldn't let her wiles affect him. Or rather, she wouldn't allow her to know that they did. Glancing at Shmee lingeringly, the fork posied a small distance from his lips, S'rei replied thoughtfully, "Is it? I wouldn't know." The man began very deliberately chewing his mouthful of pie. He offered Rawign a smile of approval. The boy had a healthy helping of wit, and a good bit of tact, too, by the looks of it.

S'rei was just about to ask the Weyrwoman where she'd gotten the idea that he wanted to father a child off her when Shmee added a new element to their playful game. The man blinked, the tip of his nose coloring a light pink, before he chuckled. Sit on his lap? He certainly wouldn't mind, but it was sure to torture the both of them. Nevertheless, he knew he could win their battle of wills. Maybe he should take her up on the challenge? Before he could reply, however, a newcomer interrupted, a young harper who seemed oddly cantankerous for such a light occasion. S'rei noticed the shift in Shmee's mood immediately. Oh dear. And they'd rather been enjoying themselves, too. Patient though he was, S'rei had to admit he'd been looking forward to a few hours without the Weyrwoman's moodiness coming into play.

Just. Great. Why did the girl have to mention being fat? Shmee got that idea completely on her own often enough as it was. She'd gained a little weight, it was true, but that didn't lessen her appeal to him, and it certainly didn't change how he felt about her.

Rawign's words came as S'rei drew the woman sideways into his lap, just like she'd wanted a moment ago. "You could become as big as the sun, and it wouldn't change a thing. Besides - " He wriggled his fingers about her waist, the digits nearly touching. Yes, he had large hands, but still, Shmee was no behemoth. "-you'll make me feel bad with this talk of being fat. I'm wider around than you." S'rei's smile was gentle. He nuzzled her neck, bringing his lips lightly across that sensitive area of her skin. "You won't stop loving me because I'm fat, will you, Weyrwoman?" The question was nearly as ridiculous as her's. S'rei's body didn't sport an ounce of excess weight. It was a gentle chiding, as if to say, 'Do you doubt me so?'

The man nodded toward a chair, not insensitive to Marra's discomfort. Talk of being fat was never wise around women, but she couldn't have known the Weyrwoman would react that way. "Why don't you join us? As you've already noted - " His voice turned mildly ironic here. "-we seem to have found ourselves with an excess of pies."

S'rei took another fokful of the pie, one hand supporting the small of Shmee's back as he fed her the piece, deliberately missing her mouth the first couple of times. "You're a mess, you know that?" He wiped some of the berry juice from her face, before leaning down to kiss her, tongue cleansing her lips of any lingering traces of the pie. "Now, isn't that better?" he queried of Shmee with a mischievous smirk. Nothing was going to ruin today's seduction of the Weyrwoman. The Weyrleader was determined.

[Administrator]

Marra frowned. The first of Rawign’s words irritated her, and she felt the need to interrupt him before he finished. “Well, you can’t deny that she is gaining weight!” she protested—just a moment before Rawign told her that Shmee was pregnant. So. That would explain it. Just as irritated as before, she attempted a defense for herself. “Why would a harper recognize a pregnancy?” she snapped. “Isn’t that your forte?” She paused, folding her arms crossly. “And I am not rude,” she added in a disgruntled mumble. Obviously. Couldn’t people tell she wasn’t rude? At least not on purpose. Giving Rawign a dirty look, she nodded curtly to S’rei.

Still pouty, Shmee returned the folded arms—that is, until S’rei pulled her up. Squealing in delight, she let him whisk her up into his lap. Snuggling against him, she had to fight to maintain decent composure as he nuzzled her neck. She adored him for this sort of behavior; he always knew how to make her feel better. “You’re not fat!” she replied with a laugh. As if to prove her point, she let one hand slip into his shirt, slowly sliding up the sides. Nope, this wasn’t fat. Smiling wickedly, she traveled as far up as her hands would go without giving the rest of the public too much of a view. Marra found herself staring for a moment, but this seemed too much. She blinked and shook her head, as if trying to banish this image from her head even as she turned pink. Sharding lovers.

“Thanks,” she replied, sitting down, still carefully avoiding their eyes. “I don’t like pie so much though,” she added with a shrug. “Too sweet.” Plopping down next to Rawign, she ignored him pointedly as she gazed at Shmee thoughtfully, looking straight into her face and trying her best to not look at Shmee’s wandering hand. “Is this a congratulations?”

Shmee nodded happily, slowly taking her hand from S’rei’s shirt to sweetly take the proffered pie after a couple attempts. Smiling as he kept ‘missing,’ she laughed when he finally got it in. “I can’t help being messy,” she replied with a wink. Eagerly accepting his cleaning kiss, she laced it with a bit more passion, her hand gently resting at the side of his head as she pulled herself in closer to his body.

Marra was suddenly seized by a coughing fit, extremely uncomfortable being in the presence of these two… canoodlers. “Don’t we have somewhere to go, Rawign?” she asked firmly, looking into his eyes with a look that seemed to say ‘we-better-have-a-place-we-need-to-be.’

Shmee broke off the kiss, looking at the two with a patient look. “I’m sorry,” she replied breathlessly, a smile and a flush on her small face that was once worried about being fat. In her opinion, if they couldn’t handle being around her and S’rei, they were just a couple of pricks. Her lack of feeling for in her apology was made even more clear as her position on S’rei’s lap was adjusted to straddling herself across him slightly, testing his limits with devilish glee.