Letters to and From Home
Br'ce is very stiff-necked and formal. I was having trouble figuring out how to get a better handle on the family dynamic, since his writings to his family are so strained and rigid-sounding. So I invented a sister. She's a lot of fun.
Dear Mother and Father,
I am very sorry for not writing sooner. I know it has been several months. Do not worry, I have been reading the missives you send me with avid attention. Affairs upon this end have been progressing at such a rapid pace that I find myself bewildered and unsure where to begin. Nevertheless, I will attempt to describe to you the events in as cogent a manner as possible. I was hoping to wait until events had settled down a little more before writing, but I am unsure as to when that will occur, and your latest letter made it imperative that I reply as soon as possible.
To answer your question, Father, I am not a renegade rider. To answer your question, Mother, I am not a hero, either. Whilst there are many ramifications and side issues, the main affair can simply be described as thus: Due to political reasons that are somewhat beyond my comprehension (in this, I have inherited your disdain and abhorrence for politicking), coverage over Nabol Hold was suspended. No weyr or wings were assigned to protect the helpless people. You taught me to always do justice wherever I found it, and I could not find any justice in leaving the people of Nabol Hold, who have committed no crime, to suffer. Myself and several like-minded riders flew coverage over Nabol, without orders to do so. Needless to say, this action, though necessary, did not endear us to weyr leadership. We were punished, and I accept the consequences of my actions stoically.
You may have heard many conflicting things about the new leadership at High Reaches (or nothing, given your isolation). I assure you that the leaders at High Reaches are ones with whom you would find only minimal fault. I do not agree with their actions, but their personal rectitude is much to be respected. J'cor has appointed me to be Wingleader of 3C, despite my prior actions. I am daunted by this task--3C has a reputation for being a wing of "hot-shots", and there is resentment over a man of my background being put into a position of authority. I promise you, though, the same thing that I promised J'cor: I will not fail in my duties. Still, things are not going to be easy. One of my riders has already been injured while volunteering to fly with another wing.
*several neatly blotted out lines here*
*-------------------*
I have met a girl, and *-----* we are *-----------* *--------------* serious. Her name is Aida, and she is the assistant to the Headmaster Sefton (about whom you should know much already). *-------------------------* She is a very enthusiastic and understanding girl. We are both working very hard. I hope I can invite her home the next time I visit. Please put her in the guest bedroom, I will sleep on a pallet.
Tell Hornst that the vintage he sent me was a trifle young, but it promises to mature into something very nice. I am including a bottle of white that you will both enjoy, and a small sketch that mother will enjoy. It is of the Bowl here at High Reaches.
I wish you both continued good health and ample crops,
Sincerely,
Bryce
PS: The pressed flower is for Min's collection. It blooms early in the spring here.
Bribri,
Where's your letter to me, you twit? A teensy postscript is all I get? Honestly, you're worse than Papa when he writes. At least he has the saving grace of being only half a day's walk away and I see him every other week. If I didn't know where they kept their letters from you, I'd never get any news at all.
What's this about a girl? Who is she? And I don't mean her name, I mean WHO is she? Don't be such a prig, tell me details. You're not setting yourself up for another fall, are you? I remember the last girl you brought home. She didn't even realize you were courting her. Please tell me that this girl knows. And that you're sleeping with her at the weyr, at least. This whole sleeping on a pallet business sounds extremely fishy to me. You never mentioned this sort of thing with the other girls. I bet you are sleeping with her! Congratulations, you prissy old rascal, you! I can't wait to meet her, I'd hop on a dragon right now and come track you both down if I weren't pregnant again. I hope you treat her well. Remember, girls like nice things. Buy her jewelry and clothing and bring her flowers every now and then, instead of your silly books and maps. And tell her that she's pretty. A girl never gets tired of hearing that. Even if she isn't, or doesn't look good, tell her anyway. And don't make that face that you do when you're lying against your better judgement, either, it's blatantly obvious. She'll already know you're lying, what she wants to know is that you will say it and try to be as sincere as possible when you do. Compliments shouldn't be like pulling teeth.
Congratulations on your promotion! Papa and Mama were ecstatic, and worried, but mostly just happy. They know what a big deal it is. We had a big dinner to celebrate, and Mama and Papa got tipsy enough to actually sing a duet. They're not very good, but it was so funny to see them try! Best fun we've had in a while. They even dipped into the stores, and everyone else, even the stablehands, got massively drunk celebrating. It took me two hours to rouse some of the grooms enough so that they could drive me home the next morning! Papa looked horrid the next morning, had his dressing gown all askew and the knot lopsided. His hair was sticking all up on one side, I wish you'd been there so you could draw it for me. It was just so unlike him! I'd frame it and hang it in our foyer.
I know you'll do well in your new job, but just lighten up on it a little. Keep a sense of humor. "I will not fail" sounds dramatic in ballads and those trashy novels you like to read (I found a few more I think you'd like. More incentive for you to come home!) but if you try to tell it to most people, they're going to just laugh in your face. Thread is a serious business, but don't let it take all the fun out of life.
I adore the flower, by the way. It's so small, and such a lovely color. Give me more! And don't forget to give your girl some, too. Fresh ones, not pressed, either, you great big lummox.
Laral and the kids send their best. Little Crimin wants to know when Trellazoth is going to come play with him again. Come visit soon! I'm sure even the busy weyr can spare you for a day or so.
Hugs and kisses and much love,
Minnow. Glub glub.
PS: Papa wasn't the only one who got a little carried away with the news of your promotion. I think I may have accidentally promised to name this one after you, if it's a boy. Don't worry, though, I'm sure it'll be a girl. I just know it. You can name your own kid Bryce Junior.
Dear Mother and Father,
I am very sorry for not writing sooner. I know it has been several months. Do not worry, I have been reading the missives you send me with avid attention. Affairs upon this end have been progressing at such a rapid pace that I find myself bewildered and unsure where to begin. Nevertheless, I will attempt to describe to you the events in as cogent a manner as possible. I was hoping to wait until events had settled down a little more before writing, but I am unsure as to when that will occur, and your latest letter made it imperative that I reply as soon as possible.
To answer your question, Father, I am not a renegade rider. To answer your question, Mother, I am not a hero, either. Whilst there are many ramifications and side issues, the main affair can simply be described as thus: Due to political reasons that are somewhat beyond my comprehension (in this, I have inherited your disdain and abhorrence for politicking), coverage over Nabol Hold was suspended. No weyr or wings were assigned to protect the helpless people. You taught me to always do justice wherever I found it, and I could not find any justice in leaving the people of Nabol Hold, who have committed no crime, to suffer. Myself and several like-minded riders flew coverage over Nabol, without orders to do so. Needless to say, this action, though necessary, did not endear us to weyr leadership. We were punished, and I accept the consequences of my actions stoically.
You may have heard many conflicting things about the new leadership at High Reaches (or nothing, given your isolation). I assure you that the leaders at High Reaches are ones with whom you would find only minimal fault. I do not agree with their actions, but their personal rectitude is much to be respected. J'cor has appointed me to be Wingleader of 3C, despite my prior actions. I am daunted by this task--3C has a reputation for being a wing of "hot-shots", and there is resentment over a man of my background being put into a position of authority. I promise you, though, the same thing that I promised J'cor: I will not fail in my duties. Still, things are not going to be easy. One of my riders has already been injured while volunteering to fly with another wing.
*several neatly blotted out lines here*
*-------------------*
I have met a girl, and *-----* we are *-----------* *--------------* serious. Her name is Aida, and she is the assistant to the Headmaster Sefton (about whom you should know much already). *-------------------------* She is a very enthusiastic and understanding girl. We are both working very hard. I hope I can invite her home the next time I visit. Please put her in the guest bedroom, I will sleep on a pallet.
Tell Hornst that the vintage he sent me was a trifle young, but it promises to mature into something very nice. I am including a bottle of white that you will both enjoy, and a small sketch that mother will enjoy. It is of the Bowl here at High Reaches.
I wish you both continued good health and ample crops,
Sincerely,
Bryce
PS: The pressed flower is for Min's collection. It blooms early in the spring here.
Bribri,
Where's your letter to me, you twit? A teensy postscript is all I get? Honestly, you're worse than Papa when he writes. At least he has the saving grace of being only half a day's walk away and I see him every other week. If I didn't know where they kept their letters from you, I'd never get any news at all.
What's this about a girl? Who is she? And I don't mean her name, I mean WHO is she? Don't be such a prig, tell me details. You're not setting yourself up for another fall, are you? I remember the last girl you brought home. She didn't even realize you were courting her. Please tell me that this girl knows. And that you're sleeping with her at the weyr, at least. This whole sleeping on a pallet business sounds extremely fishy to me. You never mentioned this sort of thing with the other girls. I bet you are sleeping with her! Congratulations, you prissy old rascal, you! I can't wait to meet her, I'd hop on a dragon right now and come track you both down if I weren't pregnant again. I hope you treat her well. Remember, girls like nice things. Buy her jewelry and clothing and bring her flowers every now and then, instead of your silly books and maps. And tell her that she's pretty. A girl never gets tired of hearing that. Even if she isn't, or doesn't look good, tell her anyway. And don't make that face that you do when you're lying against your better judgement, either, it's blatantly obvious. She'll already know you're lying, what she wants to know is that you will say it and try to be as sincere as possible when you do. Compliments shouldn't be like pulling teeth.
Congratulations on your promotion! Papa and Mama were ecstatic, and worried, but mostly just happy. They know what a big deal it is. We had a big dinner to celebrate, and Mama and Papa got tipsy enough to actually sing a duet. They're not very good, but it was so funny to see them try! Best fun we've had in a while. They even dipped into the stores, and everyone else, even the stablehands, got massively drunk celebrating. It took me two hours to rouse some of the grooms enough so that they could drive me home the next morning! Papa looked horrid the next morning, had his dressing gown all askew and the knot lopsided. His hair was sticking all up on one side, I wish you'd been there so you could draw it for me. It was just so unlike him! I'd frame it and hang it in our foyer.
I know you'll do well in your new job, but just lighten up on it a little. Keep a sense of humor. "I will not fail" sounds dramatic in ballads and those trashy novels you like to read (I found a few more I think you'd like. More incentive for you to come home!) but if you try to tell it to most people, they're going to just laugh in your face. Thread is a serious business, but don't let it take all the fun out of life.
I adore the flower, by the way. It's so small, and such a lovely color. Give me more! And don't forget to give your girl some, too. Fresh ones, not pressed, either, you great big lummox.
Laral and the kids send their best. Little Crimin wants to know when Trellazoth is going to come play with him again. Come visit soon! I'm sure even the busy weyr can spare you for a day or so.
Hugs and kisses and much love,
Minnow. Glub glub.
PS: Papa wasn't the only one who got a little carried away with the news of your promotion. I think I may have accidentally promised to name this one after you, if it's a boy. Don't worry, though, I'm sure it'll be a girl. I just know it. You can name your own kid Bryce Junior.