Letters

Participants:

Jonavan.jpg Evie.jpg

Date: 20/11/2010
Location: Eastern Weyr
Synopsis: Jonavan's sister comes to visit and brings news.
Rating: PG
Logger: Jonavan


Jonavan’s letter-writing campaign eventually paid off. He was in the middle of his latest letter to his sister, detailing how he was going to hold her personally responsible for collecting debts from his friends at the Hall and would never buy her a Turnday present again, when he got her note.

Do you really have nothing better to do with your time? Haven’t you made any friends by now you can bother? I’m owed some time off – you can be the one to tell mum and dad that I’m visiting you instead of them.

Several days later, alerted by a message-runner that there was someone looking for him in the bowl, Jonavan strode out to meet his younger sister. She standing alongside a blue dragon, removing a riding helmet and shaking out her hair, the same medium brown as her brother’s but with fuller curls.

“Evie!”

He caught up his sister in an unrestrained hug that she happily returned. A moment later he flinched when she smacked him in the back of the head with an open palm.

“Ow, E, that hurt!

“That’s what you get for pestering me every day for the past month,” Evie returned smoothly, but kissed Jonavan on his rough cheek nevertheless. “Faranth, it’s like you’re still twelve.”

“Got you to come,” Jonavan pointed out, unrepentant, and reached up to probe the spot where his sister had hit him. He then collected her bag from the Fortian rider who’d delivered her, nodding his thanks.

“Tour first, or you want to see where you’ll stay?”

“Tour,” Evie decided immediately, taking Jonavan’s arm. She was free with her smiles and openly pleased to see her brother now that she’d rebuked him for being annoying – but then, she was perhaps more used to it and equipped to deal with it than anyone else. She’d had a lifetime of experience. “Never been to Southern. Show me what it’s got.”

After a stroll through the bowl and extracting a promise from a rider for a lift tomorrow to see the surrounding environs, they stopped in the living caverns for something hot to drink before freshening up for dinner. Jonavan dropped her bag beside his chair and leaned forward as Evie filled him in on her news. He was actually smiling.

After describing the circuits she was riding around Fort and Ruatha, Evie moved on to news of mutual acquaintances. “Ellis says he’s getting good results. His Master likes his work.”

“Well he’s in diagnostics, all he needs is a tricky disease and half a brain to get a result,” Jonavan retorted, without the grace to look pleased for his friend.

Evie knew why; she didn’t pass up the opportunity to rub it in. “Says he’s going to beat you. How many marks does the ante up for every Turn that one of you doesn’t make Master?”

“Shut up.”

Evie grinned, then took a sip of her herbal tea. “Saw Monika not too long ago,” she remarked next, watching Jonavan for his reaction. It was subtle, just a tightening in the jaw. “She came up to Hall to check in. We had dinner.”

Jonavan kept his gaze steady for a minute before looking off to the side at a whorl in the tabletop. “So? You’re allowed.” He spoke with studious detachment.

“She’s doing good.” Evie considered saying more, but in the end finished her tea. “Gave me a letter for you.”

“Could’ve just sent it on.”

“Could’ve,” Evie agreed, without mentioning that she thought it best that he was around someone who knew his history when he read it. She was a Mindhealer, after all.

He took out the letter later, in privacy, after he’d seen that Evie was settled for the night.

There wasn’t much to it. News from the past couple years treated with the broadest of brushstrokes – a marriage, a child, a small suite of rooms in a cothold outside Redcliffs with a view of the sea. It was the letter itself that was the greater sign, both cautious and bold in its composition, signaling something that might have been forgiveness.

Jonavan slowly refolded the letter and sat back, staring without focus at the blank wall before him where pictures still hadn’t been hung. The last line echoed in the stillness of the narrow room.

I think of you from time to time, and hope you are well.



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