Storms are nature's way of cleaning house, moving things round in an organization only mother nature seems to know the end game. In the Garden Terrace, with one such storm booming over head G'rim is actually enjoying a free day. He is sitting at one of the tables tucked away and covered by the rock over hang of the Weyr. Bare feet propped up on the table as he reads some hides, there is a small plater of finger foods and a decanter of some form of liquid on the table with a pair of glasses.

Edomar isn't seen in the Weyr proper as often as he once was, though he's still a frequenter of the lower Bowl and environs since they're closest to the entrance. The storms are making outside work a bit dicey and causing many of the boardwalk vendors to close up for the time being. Since he has something specific in mind today in terms of shopping, he decides to venture up to the Weyr's indoor shops, which takes him through the garden terrace. It isn't raining just yet, but it could at any moment, and that knowledge presses the erstwhile pirate toward the side with the overhang. There's one person out here, which surprises him. As he comes closer, the face beyond the bare feet and lifted hides becomes clearer…and he slows to a stop. Sandy brows rise in recognition. After all this time, is this really happening so easily? "…Gaimyn?" he ventures, then checks himself. "Er…G'rim, as I hear it now, I know…" Will recognition come for this younger brother as suddenly as it has for him?

G'rim hears his old name and looks over his hides raising his own eyebrows at he sees the family resemblance, though he does have to squint a little as his eyes adjust from reading so much. "Edomar?" His tone is neutral, but there is some surprise to it as he takes his feet off the table sitting forward in his chair.

"Aye." Edomar's eyes brighten as G'rim sits up, lips curving into a careful grin. "Aye, it's me." He steps closer to the table amidst another flash of lightning summons a deep rumble across the grey sky. "I've been keepin' an eye out for ye since comin' here. I thought it'd be easier, but it's a big place, th' Weyr…" Studying the bronzerider carefully, he gives a soft, breathless chuckle of amazement. "Ye've grown since I last saw ye. Proper man and all, and a dragonman t' boot… Shells, it's good t' see ye!"

G'rim has a lot of emotions, some good some bad, mostly though he seems happy as he smiles at his older brother. "Well they tell me I have grown at least, don't know about that proper stuff." He motions to the food and drink. "Share a snack? Or are you off on an adventure?" He gives a light chuckle at the last part as if having an inside joke.

Emotions when it comes to his siblings are complicated at times, but while Edomar is cautious, this interaction is going pretty well so far. He's hopeful! "'Proper' is a stretch for th' likes of us, true," he rumbles amusedly, and moves to settle across the table from G'rim when the food and drink are indicated. "Thank you. Not adventurin' t'day, unless there's somethin' I should be prepared for in th' Weyr shops," he says as his smile goes a bit lopsided. "Never been in' em b'fore." He's quiet a moment, trying to get his various thoughts and questions in some sort of order. "Silva told me about runnin' across ye. Or you runnin' across her, whichever way it went. I was wonderin' if…maybe ye didn't want me findin' ye," he ventures, watching the bronzerider carefully.

G'rim leans back and grins about the shop owners. "If you are going in there, keep your purse strings tight." He uses his head to motion towards the shops. "They are sharp eyed, and if you don't have a solid idea what you like you will walk out without your marks." He folds his arms across his chest and lowers his chin, letting his eyes hid in that tangle of hair letting out a heavy sigh. "Honestly? I have been avoiding a lot of people, and, well, our family is less than welcoming at best of times. Not that I hate ya, Edomar, I just…." He can only finish that sentence with a shrug of his shoulders as the rain gets a little louder.

Edomar arches a brow at G'rim's warning, his smirk turning slightly dubious. "Ye make 'em sound shadier than th' boardwalk merchants," he notes with a chuckle. "Good thing I'm alright at hagglin', aye?" Then things take a more serious turn, and the rain begins. He looks over his shoulder to check the angle of it, gauging whether he should move. So far it seems alright. His attention returns to his brother, and he nods slowly. "Aye. I understand. But if ye look at fam'lies around here…well. I think it's better t' say there's a bunch of us with shared blood runnin' around, but we're not family. He didn't show us how that was s'posed t' go." No need to name the "he" being referred to, of course. "Ye know there's only three of ye've I've come across here? Eryzz, then Silva, then you. I figure it's a startin' place for somethin' better, at least. Well…mostly." Cryptic, that, but he dodges around it to qualify, "I'm not sayin' we're gonna build some big mushy band o' siblings or anythin', but we can all push beyond blood and th' past."

G'rim decides to reach for a drink when Edomar talks of being a mushy band of siblings; he laughs and coughs, making his voice sound harsher than it is . "Aye, what would we know about that?" He coughs and grins over at his brother, clearing the drink from his chest as he adds, "But yeah, the Weyr be a good place for new starts." He motions to himself as proof before adding, "And from what I have found with the folks I have met here, the past isn't important, it is what you do with the present that matters." He pushes the plate of food toward Edomar. "So what have YOU been doing with your present? Lots of rumors, but I would rather hear what truths you have to speak."

"Exactly what I've found, too," Edomar agrees over the general mindset of the Weyr. "There're always a few who look sidelong at someone who says they were once a pirate, but otherwise they seem accepting if ye genuinely want t' do better." Edomar surveys what's on the plate, plucking up some cheese and meat and popping them into his mouth together. "Well…spent some time comin' back from the edge o' death in the infirmary, largely with th' help of an amazin' woman," he begins with a quick, warm grin. "Then some time payin' back to th' Weyr. Headed the remodel o' the Sherry o'er the winter; she's The Merchant's Tempest now, and I'm t' captain 'er for th' West Wind Shipping Company. So…I've been learnin' t' be an honest merchant and workin' on winnin' a woman's heart. Y' know, what 'normal' folk do," he explains with a wry twist at the end.

G'rim just has to grin wide. "Seems to be a family trait that, coming back from the dead in the infirmary. Which woman? There are a few great Healers there." He is curious as he has one in mind himself, but he won't talk about his feelings; after all it is Edomar's story time. "Seems like a good fit, you were always the better sailor." He looks up at the skies and chuckles. "Merchant's Tempest, huh? Good name. If we ever make a name for ourselves here right proper, I wonder if we should incorporate a storm in to our family crest. Seems we are always having a squall before big changes."

Edomar looks perplexed for a moment at G'rim's first, though he remembers what Silva said. "Ohhh, aye. Ye washed up here half drowned, aye?" As for the woman in question, he folds his arms on the table with a soft sigh, his smile going lopsided in quite a besotted manner even as a slight furrow forms between his brows. "Her name is Taurie. Assistant to the Weyrwoman, so I'm sure ye've seen 'er now and again. She also owns th' Tempest now, so I work for 'er. Beyond that…she's th' most incredible woman I've e'er met. Sharp as a blade, determined, fiery, beautiful inside an' out…" He realizes he's about to start rambling and stops himself with a chuckle, giving a rough sigh afterward. "Eryzz is in love with 'er, too, so…that's dumped Thread on gettin' t' know him better right now." Perhaps someday. G'rim's comment about a family crest comes as a surprise, handily diverting the subject. "A family crest, aye? Ye think we're all worth makin' one o'er?" It's a strange notion to him…but not one he'll dismiss out of hand.

G'rim watches his brother talk about the woman he loves, and chuckles softly as he lets him ramble on. When the talk of Eryzz loving Taurie comes up as well, there is a small head shake as he says, "Yeah, that might take some better finesse and maybe a few rounds of booze." He munches on some fruit slices, nodding to the question about a family crest. "I don't see why not, I mean you are becoming a respectable merchant man. Silva is going to go be a Dolphineer. Seems better than letting the others have control over it." He takes a long drink from his glass before continuing. "I mean we are starting over right? What more is a way to set our elves apart from the past than to lay claim and make it our own."

Edomar can't help a rueful chuckle at G'rim's first. "The rum's been temptin' a time or two, t' be honest," he confesses with a shake of his head. "No answers in th' bottom of th' bottle, though." Mention of Silva's intent brings up a grin. "Aye, she'd said as much. She's come far; I'm proud of 'er. I hope she gets t' talk to th' dolphineers if she hasn't already." Further talk about the crest turns Edomar pensive. "It's an interestin' thought, G'rim. Mayhap one day we can all sit down an' come up with somethin'." Symbols do have a lot of power, after all. He eats a bit of fruit himself, then asks, "Ye seen any o' the other from th' ship who've settled here? Torestin, Maeve…?" Any others? There are a few unaccounted for that are a bit troubling to Edomar.

G'rim nods and thinks a bit. "I saw Maeve, but then we was always friendly. Last she said, she was going off to spend time among those jungle folk." He shakes his head. "I can't see the joys in that, but if it makes her happy…" He gives a slight shrug of his shoulders, absently sorting the hides he has. "I ain't seen no body else. Not really wanting to honestly, I got a few good memories, of that I can fully remember." He taps the side of his head adding. "I remember a lot of things, but I have forgotten a lot too. How are they doing? You going to pull them into the life of honest merchants, too?"

"Well…if nothin' else, she ought t' know her way 'round th' jungle well enough after all that time in th' camp," Edomar says of Maeve, his brows quirking together briefly before his expression relaxes again. "I hope she finds what fits 'er soon." As for who else he's seen, he shakes his head. "Aside from Torestin and some others from the island who stayed, no one. Heard things about some others, but…not people I want t' run across e'er again meself." G'rim's last question earns a chuckle and another head-shake. "I tried. Told both Maeve an' Torestin they'd be welcome aboard, but…they've got their reasons for not wantin' to, and I respect 'em." No matter how much he wishes they'd change their minds sometimes.

G'rim nods and shrugs. "Maybe it is a good thing, easier to start new with people who don't know you." He gives Edomar a grin, adding, "Besides, you're a natural leader, I am sure you will have them doing right in not but a fortnight." He lifts the glass to his brother, adding with a sly grin, "Besides, you got a lady to impress. Easier to do without us bringing up all your embarrassing stories.."

Edomar nods, having reasoned much the same thing despite wishing for a familiar face or two. Hearing G'rim call him a natural leader is an odd feeling, and he settles a somewhat bemused blue regard upon the bronzerider. "I…dunno about that. But I'll do my best t' do right by th' crew we get," he says, his tone lowered a bit. That grinned tease earns a lifted brow and a smirk. "Oh, aye? An' what embarrassin' stories do ye remember? I already told 'er th' one about gettin' spooked by th' wherry an' fallin' o'erboard from th' high nest. Not sure what's better 'n that one."

G'rim chuckles. "Well I am sure there are some you don't remember. And a few others do…" He looks over, taking the measure of the man before him. He nods as he clearly is having another conversation in his head before speaking aloud. "Ylderroth says you seem capable, don't doubt your self." He eats more fruit before adding, "So when you going to try to make an honest woman out of this Taurie?"

"Ylderroth? Your dragon?" Edomar twists around to look out into the rain, then remembers how high up they are at the moment. "Where is he?" Puzzled, he looks back to G'rim. "And why would he have an opinion about me?" It would certainly be a first! He snags another piece of fruit and has just taken a bite when the bronzerider asks what he does. Edomar sputters, coughing to clear his throat before fruit goes down the wrong pipe. "Jays, boyo…what?" Safe from choking now, he stares at his younger brother. "That's not e'en in sight right now! She is an honest woman, and I'm…I'm…just tryin' t' be a good man for 'er. The man for 'er, if she'll have me. Neither of us'd be ready for what ye're talkin' about right now, and mayhap not for Turns yet…" He shoves a hand through his hair, flushing slightly under his stubble as he reins in his mind from racing after getting that notion tossed at it.

G'rim chortles merrily seeing the older'brother clearly off balance. "Yld has opinions about everything and everyone. He is funny like that." He leans forward a little saying with honest care in his voice, "Hey don't go dying yet, brother o' mine…" This is probably the first time he has used that term to ANYONE about Edomar. And surprisingly it doesn't leave a bad taste in his mouth. "I might be needing to ask your advice at some point, about being honest enough to make someone honest."

G'rim's tone is something Edomar takes note of. It brings up a strange combination of feelings - slight suspicion and genuine hope at the same time. It seems he's found a brother to be on amiable terms with at last…but damned if his previous dealings aren't making him wary despite there likely not being a need. "Already tried that once. Didn't much care for it," he returns wryly, and then eyes the bronzerider curiously for his last. "Not sure what ye're gettin' at, but if ye like…sure. Ye ought t' come by th' Tempest sometime. Cozy place t' talk, that." And far different in feel than the ship that they both once called home.

G'rim grins and says, "I told you, it is a family trait, being nursed back to health by an AMAZING woman in the infirmary. Liked it so much I went a second time." He pulls up the tattered pant leg to show the deep thread score mark that snakes up his leg. He lowers his tone in a mock conspiracy. "But don't tell her I said that, she would probably drown me in red wort." He grins at Edomar. "I would love to see your new vessel, would help replace the memories of the last time I found it.."

Edomar, still bemused, chuckles at that before taking a good look at G'rim's Threadscore. He's never seen scoring before, and the sight of the scar makes him shudder slightly as he imagines what it must have looked like before. "Well, considerin' ye haven't said 'er name, I've got no one t' yap to," he quips, pulling his gaze back upward. He nods to G'rim's last, though catches the way it's worded. "'Found?' Were ye with th' wings that went to deal with the old man at the island, then?"

G'rim shakes his head. "No, it's the Bonnet I found when it was washed up." He shakes his head and waves a hand. "Dragon keeps talking at me. It's like having a wherry roost in here sometimes with all the chatter. I never saw the Sherry after going overboard. For a dragon that loves the deep sea he sure loves to get views of boats." When the question of if he was part of the liberation comes, he shakes his head. "I was still not cleared to fly for the raid." He motions patting his thigh, but adds a warm grin, saying, "And her name is Phaedra. So now you know.." He leans back sipping on his drink letting the sound of the rain take up the quiet space in conversation. He is watching Edomar before he asks, "Where were you when it happened?"

Edomar's brows shoot upward at that. "Ye found the Bonnet? Faranth, that must've been…right after I first met Taurie, 'cos I remember 'er talkin' about that not long after," he muses. The Healer's name rings a bell, and he nods. "Aye, I know Phaedra. She was one of the ones makin' sure I was healin' up proper. Good at what she does. Seems real focused on her job, that one." Simply an observation. After eating a bit more, he addresses G'rim's question. "I was still laid out flat in the infirmary. Part o' me wishes I could've been there; another part o' me's fine with not. Good riddance and all that." A sudden gust of wind sends the rain angling toward the table, peppering his back with cool droplets that make him flinch. "Alright, prob'ly best t' get inside," he says, starting up and swiping at the back of his neck.

G'rim stands with his brother and offers him his hand, saying, "It is good to see ya, Edomar. Let me know when you want to have a drink on your ship." He gives him a warm smile. "I look forward to hanging out more."

Edomar reaches out and clasps G'rim's hand, smiling. "Good t' finally find ye, brother. Come by sometime in the next few sevens. Any time after, we might just be at sea." His smile broadens at the bronzerider's last. "I'd like that. Now. Let's see if I can make it through those shops without gettin' robbed, aye?" With that, he turns and jogs off through the rain toward the shelter of the shops. If he's a bit distracted while going through them…well. Who can blame him after finally running across his younger brother?