Fort Weyr - Library Archives
Surviving the ages is something that books are known to do, especially if they are left untouched for just as long. In this room, that's exactly what has happened. Put aside as trivial information or simply determined old enough to not impact present day life, these numerous articles stored in ceiling high shelves are the forgotten histories belonging to Fort.
Miraculously, the design of the room itself has prevented any of the books from damage. The rock base of which the room's foundation is actually one of the toughest rock known to man and cannot be surpassed by any creature living, while a layer of tiles of the smoothest stone gives this room a vibrant and mysterious appeal. The door itself on the room was sealed tight and allowed for a minimum amount of circulation, thereby preventing natural decay, although most articles may be brittle despite this. White marble has been used to create an insulating layer wall against the natural rock, giving the room an unnatural brightness and a enchanted atmosphere - while also giving it four distinct walls. The ceiling as well has been made smooth with an arching apex.
As for the books and mounds of information stored in this vault of information, the organization is clear. Books bound with hard covers are kept alphabetical in the towering skybroom wood shelves, where step ladders and scrolling ladders actually attached to the shelves move to assist a person in selecting a volume. The shelves are ornately carved, many crafted with a mastery none have ever seen. Meanwhile, scrolls have a sectional shelf where each scroll based on how they were itemized has a cubical square into which they are kept in. This shelf alone has over a hundred squares in which the scrolls stick out of. As well, any loose bits of information have been assembled in files that are stored in boxes along the back wall. Apparently, recording history takes up vast amounts of space and every where one looks in this room one would find a wealth of information. The ancestors of Fort live here.

Spring is most certainly here now and with it comes rain. Rain, rain, rain! What a miserable day… for some, anyways. Others are welcoming the rain because it means warmer days ahead and less snow! In fact, there is very little of it left and more mud now than anything. Everything is soaked and soggy, the air cool but damp as the rains now taper to that annoying clinging drizzle. It's a time to stay indoors and stay dry and no doubt the Healers are preparing for the usual rise in colds and other seasonal ailments that come during this time. It is late morning and the caverns are just clearing out after the kitchens served a breakfast consisting of mostly fortified hot dishes. One wouldn't put it past that the cooks have laced the dishes either with beneficial (and very safe) herbs. Was that the Weyrwoman's doing or the Headwoman's? Who knows.

Th'ero has purposely cleared his morning. It meant being up earlier so that he could complete his usual tasks but aside from losing a few hours of sleep he is in a good mood. Waiting on Kimmila to join him, if she wasn't already at his side for breakfast, he will lead on down to the commonplace tunnels and into the library. It's on the "busy" side, with a few Harpers at work and others in need of the vast store of knowledge here. However, it is quiet and so the Weyrleader doesn't balk. A few nods of greeting and they're left alone to their own personal business. "Where too first, Wingmate?" he murmurs low to Kimmila's ear. "Did you want to claim a spot? Maybe one of the more comfortable chairs." Those plush upholstered ones that are usually so coveted and placed not by wooden desks but low side tables and are more casual than anything.

Kimmila had a quiet and calm morning - it's her goal, these days. Quiet and /calm/. No panic, no stress. Happy. Happy Kimmila. We'll see how long that actually lasts. Entering the caverns, she adjusts her skirt (yes, she's back to big skirts) and eyes the room. "Those chairs," she says, pointing. "And you," another point, "will want to go down that row, last section on your left. That's where the astronomy books should be. Look for old ones. Those will have the best words in them, the ones that people don't really know anymore." Since she doesn't want their child named Rukbat. Or anything close to it.

We shall see how long it lasts! Th'ero is trying to remain hopeful that it will for as long as possible. His dark eyes will drift down to watch her adjust those skirts, his mouth curving faintly at the corners in amusement (or is it admiration?). Kimmila begins to point and now his attention snaps back to where it needs to be. Chairs, noted! Books… wait, he's fetching them? Why'd he think otherwise? "Got it." He thinks so, anyways as he eyes that row of scrolls and bound books and volumes. Shelves upon shelves of them. Gesturing for her to go take one of those chairs, he'll chuckle low and quiet in his throat. "Don't want to name the twins Belior and Timor?" he teases, naming both of Perns moons. Talk about… cliche names? Even Th'ero can't keep his nose from wrinkling slightly. No… they will not be that cruel to their unborn offspring. They may as well rename Kyzen to Rukbat if they'll do that! With that little jest voiced, Th'ero will venture down that row and take a few moments to pull what he figures are "old" records.

Kimmila snorts, /eying/ him. "No. But maybe Telior and Bimor?" Wink. Smirking, she watches him go, enjoying the sight of him walking away. Leaning back in the chair she exhales slowly and rubs her hand over her belly, gazing down at it. Hi, babies. Everything okay in there?

Th'ero eyes her right back and pulls a bit of a face to tease her for that wink and joking comeback. "Over my dead body." he drawls with a smirk. Then he is gone, unaware of her watching him (or maybe he is and that explains his slowed steps). He's not gone for long and hopefully the babies don't actually answer Kimmila, unless to give the usual kick. Kicks? That must not be enjoyable… having four feet kicking away.
Th'ero will return in a few minutes and safely (carefully) in his arms he carries several small but old looking volumes. Judging from the worn leather binding, they were used widely once but not so much now. Setting them down on the low side table, he will offer one of the slimmer ones to Kimmila and then takes another in his hand before settling into the opposite chair.

Kimmila flinches slightly. Th'ero's dead body? Noooooo thank you. Eyes closed, she waits until he returns and then sits up, taking the book he offers her and opening it slowly and carefully, touching the binding with her hands. "Beautiful," she murmurs, turning the pages thoughtfully. "Hmm. Mars? Venus?" Flip, flip.

Oops? Probably not the best thing to joke about. Too late now and Th'ero is oblivious to how that may have sounded. Luckily for Kimmila, he doesn't plan to die anytime soon and has proven to be too stubborn and strong willed to let anything change that. "The book?" he muses for her comment of 'beautiful' and turns his volume over in his hands. Fingers stroke the aged and worn leather covering and from his half-smile he seems to agree. "They are, aren't they? And… shells, did I get you an old volume of Earth terms?" How'd that sneak in there? Flipping his book open, he grunts. "Oh great. Charts." Little itty bitty ones! Ones he can't even begin to decipher and so he rapidly flicks through those pages, pausing only when there are notations. Names? None that'd be workable. "Ugh. Some of these are just so… so stiff." Scientific, he means.

Kimmila chuckles, nodding. "Yeah, but it's okay, it's interesting. Casseopia? That's not too bad…" She then leans over to look at what he's looking at. "Oh? Any we could shorten or simplify? Make them…less stiff?" She didn't just smirk.

Th'ero repeats the name and from the way his mouth sets, he isn't too keen on it. "It's pretty but… not a top choice for me." he murmurs and when she leans over he will chuckle and turn the book to show her. See? Little charts and cramped writing and scrawled notations. Most of it gibberish to him. "Not sure yet, Wingmate. Most have numbers it looks like. Rukbat is repeated a lot." She didn't just smirk and he didn't just snort and give her a sidelong look. "Some may prefer a long, stiff name?" Because that's what they're talking about, right? Right. Shaking his head and trying hard not to grin, he'll flip through a few more pages and then with a frustrated sound he closes it and reaches for another. Flipping it open, he begins to skim a few pages. "This seems a little more promising…" he mutters under his breath.

Kimmila snickers, biting her lower lip. "Remember, that's how we /got/ the children…" When he sets that book aside she takes it, interested in the charts and numbers - even if no names are to be found within. "Oh? What have you found?" Then she pauses, looking around. "Are we being silly? Finding…theme names for our children? Kyzen's was easy, we just thew all our names together…"

Th'ero stares at her and has to swallow his own laughter less he burst out with it and draw attention to themselves. "Kimmila!" he hisses in a whispered voice, but his grin betrays him. Good one! "We'll save that banter for later…" Or for as long as he can be "mature". Maybe Velokraeth is finally wearing off on him after all these Turns! "Not sure, yet. But this seems to be more of a factual book. Maybe one for lessons? Historical or… theoretical." he murmurs and looking up from the book he will give her a curious look. "Silly, how? I don't see the harm in it and, well, I suppose we are breaking tradition. But our names, Wingmate… they only blend so much, right? Who is to say we cannot find something different? For all we know, we'll pick something with enough similar letters that folk will assume we've just done the normal thing." That's Th'ero's logic for you! Glancing down at the book, he flips to another page and pauses. "Kimmila?" Holding the book at an angle so that she can see, he will first point to the detailed illustration of a five-petalled flower and what looks to be a moon. His fingers drift to the name below which, like anything used for plants, is long and scientific. However, Th'ero's fingers then point to snippets of it. "… Ara…nthi… Hmm. Aranthi?"

It's either Velokraeth or Kimmila. She grins smugly at him and settles back, thoughtful. "I don't know. And I suppose different names /are/ tradition. Wiyaneth named me," as he knows, as her name has nothing to do with Elara and A'rtomus, other than an a and an m. Hardly enough to pinpoint her lineage. "Plus, I like that Kyzen isn't branded as ours. Gives him some freedom in his life." Tilting her head, she smiles. "That's a beautiful flower…and the moon too," she murmurs, following his finger as he points parts of the word out. "Aranthi? Aranthi…" She mulls it over and smiles. "That's really lovely. I'll write it down."

It's both of them, seeing as they are so key and influencial to his life and he adores and loves them both. Of course they would influence him and Th'ero likely entirely unaware of it! "I remember you telling me," he murmurs in a fond voice to her. There is a low chuckle, "And Kyzen… or Kyzenviro is a good name for him. It gives him that freedom, yes. It is HIS name, not ours." Never mind it was blended from the dragons. Who would know, aside from them? "Not sure of the story or information behind this… is it a moon-flower? Or does it bloom at night?" Does such a thing exist? He flips a few more pages, but there seems very little information and he frowns in disappointment. Still… "It is a lovely name. Suitable for a girl, do you think? And just our luck, Kimm, we will have two boys." An army of sons! What man wouldn't adore that? "Find anything in your book?"

Kimmila shakes her head, "No, nothing here. I really like that for a girl's name though. What is a moon-flower?" she asks, grinning at him. "If it bloomed at night that would be really neat. Not sure I've heard of a flower that does that, but…maybe that one does. Aranthi. That's really beautiful, wingmate," she murmurs, jotting it down and the book it came from. Then she sighs, shaking her head. "Faranth. I hope we get at least one girl. I want you to have a girl…" Three boys. "We will need more harnesses.."

Th'ero shrugs his shoulders, his smile faint and amused. "Shards if I know, Wingmate? For all I know, it's some obscure reference to some Earth myth or old, old story. Which makes me wonder on how old that volume is, if it's a reproduction from one of the old texts." How much of it can be trusted? Not that it really matters, in the end. Pernese tend not to ask after the meaning of their names. A name is a name! "I know of flowers that bloom to the sun and close at dark but not reversed. It's… Aranthi will be a pretty name for a girl." he agrees. Beautiful. He laughs, quiet and low to avoid disturbing the other visitors to the archives. "I want you to have a little girl too. And who's to say the boy will need Kyzen's old harness?" he muses, teasing her lightly.

Kimmila shrugs, looking at the page again. "Does it matter? We love the name, and it can mean moon flower." She smiles, reaching over to gently tug on a curl. "I already have a little girl," she says with a gentle, if sad, smile. "And…he'd be your son, of course he'd need a harness," she teases softly. Leaning in, she offers his cheek a kiss. "Maybe two girls," she whispers. "Does Kyzen know?"

"It could hold whatever meaning we choose, Wingmate." Th'ero murmurs and then gives her a bemused look when she tugs at one of his curls. He sighs softly then, kicking himself for bringing that sad but gentle smile to her features. "I know." He hasn't forgotten. Not entirely, anyways. Leaning into her offered kiss, he will likewise lift his hand to briefly cup the side of her face before drifting to her shoulder and gripping firm. Loving and supportive! "She'd be our little girl." he says quietly, only to snort and give her teasing half-grin. "Oh, so it's me you blame for the need of a harness? Who's to say Kyzen's curiosity and avid interest in the world does not come from his mother?" Her whisper has him smiling again. "Or one of each. Wouldn't that be perfect?" He doesn't seem to have his hopes in that outcome. "Tlazio I think is leaving it to us to tell Kyzen."

Kimmila smiles, "Then I like the meaning of moon flower. To remind us of the cave, and all that you did there for us." Their other child can be named 'heart stopping drop into water and almost drowning'. How sweet. Then her grin returns, swift and a bit wicked. "Oh, he got his curiosity and interest from me. His /stubbornness/ and refusal to do what he's told…that's all you." Though she winks at him, since really…she's got plenty of that too, as he well knows! "Ah. We should tell him very soon. He's going to start thinking I'm getting fat."

And so they settle on one name! How many more candlemarks before they find the next? Or the backups. Shards, Th'ero and Kimmila could be in here for days! "Touching and fitting," he agrees to her explanation. Her wicked grin has him giving her a wry look and again he snickers under his breath. "I've no argument there!" he drawls. Touche! Flipping through a few more pages, Th'ero snorts and gives her a once over with his eyes. She's not getting fat! She's just obviously pregnant! Which… he wants to tell her but knows she was not being down on herself. "He'll be full of questions," he says instead and then his brows lift. "… you're dealing with that. You — you have that talk." Nice.

Daaaays. She writes it down and sets her notebook aside, smiling and rubbing her belly. Then she laughs, though it's brief and soft. "What? Why do I have to answer those questions? When he asks how the babies got in there and how they're getting out." Wince. "Maybe Elara should talk to him…" Right. Pawn it off on her mother.

Th'ero leans over in his chair to gently press his hand to her belly or even tenderly rest it over her hand. Her smile has him grinning broadly. "Because you're good at putting the words together in a way that he's likely to understand. I'd just… shells, Wingmate, I'd botch it. We both know how I am." And he could barely comfort Kyzen on the awkward matter of death. "Elara? Perhaps. But it'd be… better, I think, from you. A bonding moment. If he even ASKS anything and just doesn't tear around the weyr hollering how he's going to be a brother?" Who knows with kids?

Kimmila snorts softly, giving him a crooked smile. "That's your excuse? You know you'd mess it up? How can you ever learn and grow if you never challenge yourself?" But she's clearly teasing. Because yeah. He would. Then she sighs. "Eh, alright. I'll talk to him." Blah!

Th'ero rolls his eyes to Kimmila's teasing and smirks. "When it comes to our son, I'd rather not muddle his head if I can help it?" he drawls, teasing back and a bit serious. "Besides," he adds as he leans back in his chair. "His questions will be innocent and childlike now. You'll have it easy, Wingmate. I… will get to have that awkward father-son talk when he gets old enough to start breaking women's hearts." Or deflower them. NOPE. Not thinking that! Th'ero's expression falters though. Too late?

Kimmila chuckles, flipping a few pages in her book. "I'm sure that discussion will go very well, between the two of you. You're an honorable man, and I've no doubt Kyzen will be like you in that regard as he grows, as well." His faltering expression catches her attention, as always. "What?"

Th'ero continues to flip through the same book he found Aranthi's name in. Maybe a second time is a charm? Or he's just too distracted to think on trying another book. "Or it will be horrendously awkward as I try to explain?" he teases back, only to smile crookedly. Ignore the colour rising to his cheeks too. "He could be like me yes," Honorable, loyal and a closet romantic. "Or he'll be a charmer and woo'er, like Zi'on." The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them and his expression twists, looking as shocked as his next words sound. "Shards… no. No, I take that back!" Faranth, how Th'ero's heart would break if Kyzen turned into such a womanizer! Among other things. What? "I… It just strikes me as so odd to consider Kyzen grown. A young man, not a child."

Kimmila blinks, rather startled - no, shocked - at Th'ero's words. "No! He would never, ever do that. Never. He'll be a gentleman." Ugh. Twitch. Though she does smile next, tugging at his curls. "He'll be very handsome…"

Slip of the tongue, honest! "Of course he'll be a gentleman! He'll be honourable and share our traits, as well as his own." Which will be GOOD traits too! There son will be perfect (no he won't, everyone is not without their faults!). Again, at her tugging on his hair, he'll chuckle throatily and lean over again to trace his fingers along her cheek and the curve of her jaw. "Of course he will be. And our next two children too. I bet if one is a daughter or both, they will look like their mother. Beautiful." So they have to find beautiful names! There's that closet romantic nature of his! … coming out in public.

PERFECT. She closes her eyes into his touch, smiling, and then she blushes. "I'm not /that/ pretty, Th'ero," she mutters. "Not like Nyalle, not like others in the weyr. But hopefully our girls will be beautiful."

Th'ero's smile is warm and amused when Kimmila mutters and he leans forwards a little more, now in danger of toppling from his chair if he's not careful, to place a swift but loving kiss to her lips. "You are so, Kimmila. Beautiful to me. Nyalle and the other women have their own beauty, yes, but not to my tastes. I found the woman who is." He chuckles, caressing his fingers along her cheek again as he leans back. "They will be." At least to him! He'll be so biased towards his offspring.

Kimmila blushes more at his kiss, though she returns it. "Thank you. Now. More names, wingmate. We'll be here forever if it takes us this long to find a second…" She teases, her cheeks flushed, eyes bright, mood good.

"What if I want to be here forever? This has been a nice morning." Th'ero remarks with a low chuckle. He knows better though and knows full well that at any moment he can be called away. It's an illusion, sitting here in the archives with Kimmila and sharing in her company as they tease each other and discuss the future. But it's an illusion he wants to enjoy while he can and he will be loathe to leave when he is called back to his work. Flipping a few more pages, he'll linger on something written on the page. "Ugh… not sure about this but… See these two names?" He points to them on the page. They're long and awkward. Awful, really? What… does he even see in those? "Something about a star… and strike? Striking? Don't know but… hmm." Second doubts? "Ella..? Girly. There's Dyr… Elladyr? Can that even be shortened, if for a boy? E'dyr?"

Kimmila chuckles as she peers at the name idea. "Because of course both of your sons will be riders," she teases lightly. "Elladyr though…that is a nice one. Star strike? Like a meteor? That's a bit violent, don't you think?" Illusion or not, she also enjoys it, leaning against his shoulder comfortably.

Th'ero gives her a look, his smile equally as teasing. "Can a Weyrleader not hope that his sons and daughters Impress? Perhaps not our sons, but our daughter or daughters? Come now, do you not even think for a moment that there is a chance that they could be a goldrider?" he murmurs, leaning back against her shoulder despite the awkwardness of the chair arm biting into his side. "Not too violent? Not if you take it and reverse it as Striking Star. As in… handsome?" That's a little better?

Kimmila winces, "Faranth. I hope none of my daughters are goldriders." How boring. Cough. "Striking star?" She grins. "Only if he has your hair," she teases, reaching up to tug a curl again, and then pull him down for a sudden kiss. "I like Elladyr for a boy's name. Now…do we gamble that we'll get one of each? Or find others?"

Th'ero looks surprised when Kimmila winces and he sounds puzzled. "Why not?" Oh, it's so boring but to him he's viewing it more like an honour thing. A thing to be proud of! Not that he'd be if their offspring choose entirely different paths. He's about to fire off some comment about her tugging his hair when she pulls him into a kiss and he'll return it. That archivist over there must be staring at the wall behind them, right? Right. "Should we be returning back to the weyr?" he teases her in a low whisper, only to smile. "Elladyr and Aranthi, then? And… good point. I— Let's gamble. Nothing says we need to name the babes the second they are born."

Kimmila laughs, pushing the book at him to put away. "Let's go. I like to gamble on things." And it's true, they won't have to name them right away, if they end up with two of a kind. "Because it's boring. Binding. So much responsibility and not enough fun."

A crackle of lightning touches the minds of the dragons of Fort Weyr, coupled with the alarming smell of smoke in fire. Terror and a endless fury shine in the voice of Rauskazeth as he bellows, « there has been an avalance! Lana and Ezra are trapped! »

Velokraeth's mind answers in a slow trickle at first to the alarming smell of smoke and fire and crackling lightning. When Rauskazeth's message is bellowed, that trickle swells to a rush of sharp, dry red wine hues that engulf all before ebbing away. Steadying, fortifying to the terror and fury over the link and distance. « Be calm, Rauskazeth! Fort has heard you. I hear you well and clear and help will come! Are yours or the heir injured? Where are you? »

Kayeth is there as well, the queen's thoughts swirling with hot, dry wind.

Dremkoth answers with dark clouds to cushion that lightning but the thunder echoes his rider's concern, « Where are- » but oh, then Velokraeth asks and Dremkoth waits to hear, only adding, « It is but snow. We can move it. Tell them to do nothing rash. » His night is washed away by both Velokraeth's wine and Kayaeth's dry wind but it is with the certainty that he and his rider will come. »

So what was that about enjoying the morning? Th'ero has the book in hand and is about to get up to put it away. In fact, he's suddenly lurching to his feet and the book falls with a 'thud' to the table. Sorry, archivists! His posture is tense, alert and his eyes distant and far away. When he recovers, it's with a sharp shake of his head and a stricken look to Kimmila. "Trouble." he says flatly. Varmiroth has heard too, hasn't he? "Rauskazeth just broadcast to the Weyr. Lana and Ezra… there's trouble. I have to go." Does he? Can't he organize things here? Of course he can't. He holds his hand out to Kimmila. "But I need your help. Here. Can you do this?" It's a compromise but he's not about to abandon her here with nothing.

Kimmila has heard, yes, and she blanches pale. "Is Rauskazeth injured?" she whispers, old fears crashing down around her as she takes his hand and gets to her feet. "Go. You go. I'll stay. I'll prepare the Healers, help Nyalle. Go, go!" Sorry, archivests indeed, as she's speaking quite loudly and nudging Th'ero forward. "Be careful," she hisses.

"I'm not sure." Th'ero admits, his features twisting into a closed mixture that is nigh on impossible to decipher. Already his head is filled with Velokraeth relaying and he relaying his commands back. "I think Lana is injured. Ezra too. Shells! Damn it!" he swears out loud and he begins to move when Kimmila urges him. Her hissed plea has him stopping and then rushing back to her to gather her into his arms and hug tight. "I will. I will!" he promises, hurriedly kissing her lips, then her cheek and nuzzling her neck. One deep inhale and then he's letting her go. Walking away. He hates to do it. "Velokraeth will stay in touch with Varmiroth when he can. Nyalle is getting the Healer's organized. Help her! Call your riders too… see if any of them know if neighbouring cotholds can lend any aid or mind being used as way stations for our people. Stay safe too, Wingmate!" And then he is gone, rushing out to the bowls. So much for peace and quiet.