A Change of Winds (Q'sis)

Frayya straightened up from her belongings and stood with her arms slackened at her sides. There was nothing left to do now but wait. She looked about the room already feeling like a stranger in her own home. It felt as if she had already left and come back to a place she barely knew. She stumbled to her bed and sunk down, closing her eyes. She tried to shut down her mind but it kicked into overdrive. Her roommates had promised to wait for her but would they? What would’ve changed in her absence? When…and she hurriedly stomped on the word if…would she be raised to Journeyman status? What would the Weyr be like to a Hold-bred girl turned Hall-crafter? How did the masters expect her to improve in a world that revolved around dragons and not the soothing spin of the loom? How long would she even be gone for?

Frayya stood up abruptly and strode to the window. She threw it open even wider and leaned out so that she could stare into the courtyard down below. Crafters were taking down projects that had dried and putting up new ones in their places. The other apprentices were running errands or moving towards the dyeing pools with grim expressions set on their faces. Frayya was glad that the senior apprentices were taken off dyeing duty. The dye always took ages to come out of her fingertips and she swore the smell lingered in her nostrils for months. She took deep, soothing breaths enjoying the warm damp air mixed with the smell of the chemicals frequently used at the Weaver Crafthall. She knew she was being ridiculous, part of her, the part that was usually in control, told her so. Frayya might be leaving now but it wouldn’t be forever. The masters would call her back, raise her to Journeyman, and she would take her rightful place in the hall. There was no reason for all this nostalgia.

As if sensing the coming change her eyes were drawn to the skies just as a dragon winked out of between. She squinted into the high noonday sun trying to make out the color of the dragon. A brown? ‘No,’ Frayya thought as the dragon began to circle down to land in front of the hall’s entrance. It was to light for a brown. A tan, then. Frayya continued to watch the tan even after she landed in front of the crafthall. She couldn’t make much out of the rider from this distance but she looked tall. The tan began to amble away and the apprentice realized she should probably hurry. The masters wouldn’t be best pleased if she made a rider wait on her. She quickly splashed her face hoping to hide some of the redness in her eyes. She hadn’t been able to stop herself from crying when she was packing up all her things. She pulled her hair back in a loose ponytail before slinging the sack of her tools over her shoulder. It was the only package small enough for her to carry alone. She stepped out into the hall and snagged a few passing junior apprentices, who looked none too pleased to be interrupted, but she made it more of an order than a request. After the apprentices were on their way with her trunks, she turned to her room and shut the door with a very final sounding snap.

***

Terssan heard the watch dragon’s challenging bulge and delegated the task he was working on to one of his Journeyman. It was a special commission but greeting a dragonrider was more important especially since the rider was doing them a favor. With Thread falling most Weyrs were unwilling to spare dragons for ferrying. He stopped by the kitchens on his way to the courtyard to ensure the workers had cool refreshments waiting. Southern Boll’s damp heat was often a shock to people not accustomed to it and usually a cold drink was welcome. He could only imagine how hot the weather felt coming from the black cold of between.

Terssan shaded his eyes as he strode into the courtyard. The activity had slowed with the arrival of a dragon. Many were openly gawking at the pair while others were sneaking glances through their eyelashes as they pretended to be involved in their work. “Sanaeni,” He said chiding the young apprentice as she stood open-mouthed staring at the rider, “Don’t you have some undergarments to be washing?” The girl’s face fell drastically as she scurried off to complete her morning chores. With the arrival of a master, the other apprentices and even some of the journeyman rushed back to work.

Terssan stood glowering after them for several moments before turning his attention to the rider standing in front of a large painting. He could see why it was hard for everyone not to stare. The man was a monster almost an entire foot taller than Terssan. He was not only tall but frighteningly built. A man that would probably, without intending too, intimidate other men and give certain women reason to pause and bat an eyelash. His eyes traveled to the dragon lumbering away behind him and received another shock. A tan? Tans Impressed women not men! That was what he had thought but that tan was clearly this rider’s dragon. After all, what would be the point of this rider riding someone else’s dragon? The shock was ill-concealed in his face when he greeted the rider.

“Greetings, rider.” He said extending his hand feeling a slight pang that he didn’t know the rider’s name. He knew all the Weyrleaders’ and Weyrwomans’ names on Pern but that was it. He didn’t deal with things outside the hall like the Master Weaver did. “I am Master Terssan. I apologize but I don’t know your name…” He paused allowing time for the rider to introduce himself, hoping that he wouldn’t find his forgetfulness offensive. “Thanks for taking the time to come here.” He knew it was probably inconvenient for a Dalibor Weyr rider to come into another Weyr’s territory. “I’ve some refreshments waiting in the dining hall if you care for some?”

The rider was definitely offended that Terssan didn’t know his name. He hid a grimace in a smile and began to say ‘right this way’ but the rider was already marching away giving him an order to bring the girl to him. The man huffed giving the rider some distance before following. He couldn’t help but feel like a scolded dog trailing after his master. He began to fret over his decision to send Frayya to the Weyr. He still remembered the shy, hesitant young girl who had first come to the crafthall. He knew she was no longer that girl; that she needed to change. He had thought that the Weyr was the best place for it. ‘Well, there are other riders in the Weyr,’ He told himself, ‘I doubt she’d spend much time with this one.’ She needed to learn some empathy at the Weyr. She certainly needed no help in stepping on people’s toes.

Terssan stopped to help the drudge that had dropped her sack of potatoes. She made many mumbled apologies insisting that he needn’t bother himself but the master just offered soothing words and helped her pick up the mess. Terssan straightened up once the mess was clean and turned to go find the apprentice. He hoped she was already finished packing. She was the sort of girl who did things on her time but he didn’t think the rider would find that acceptable. He was about to pass the dining hall in search of the girl when he remembered the letter he carried. He proceeded into the hall with a sigh but stopped affronted by the rider’s choice in seat. ‘Let it go,’ He told himself walking towards what was traditionally the Master Weaver’s seat. He pulled out the letter he had tucked into his belt. “If you’d be so kind as to bring this to Journeyman Baltran,” Terssan asked politely, “It is about the girl. He’ll be overseeing her training while she is away from us.”

***

Frayya walked down towards the main level of the crafthall listening to the excited gossip of the women she passed on the stairs.

“Did you see how tall he was?”

“His eyes!”

“He looked so scary!”

“I wouldn’t want to be going with him.”

“I would.”

“So tall!”

Frayya paused looking surprised at the comments of the other woman. He? Hadn’t the dragon been a tan? They had to be discussing the dragonrider. She had obviously been mistaken in her earlier assumption that the rider was a woman. It was then that she noticed the look of envy some of the women gave her and the sympathetic looks that the rest gave. ‘Does everyone know?’ She thought bristling with anger, ‘I thought we had kept it a secret!’ She hadn’t wanted everyone to know she was leaving! She could only imagine all the gossip it had caused.

“Where is the rider?” Frayya snapped at a group of giggling girls.

“The dining hall,” One of the girl’s answered tartly muttering ‘you’re welcome’ as Frayya swept off without a backward glance.

“Meet me in the dining hall,” She said to the apprentice boys who were carrying her trunks for her. She whisked by them and soon stood in front of the dining hall. She smoothed out her skirts, straightened her almost sheer blouse, and checked her hair. She didn’t want to appear disheveled and upset to the rider although she couldn’t quite hide the slight redness to her eyes. She took in a deep breath and pushed open the door which slammed into the wall with a resounding SMACK. She had pushed open the door with more force than she intended which unintentionally drew eyes towards her and some stern glances from some of the older women. Frayya stood framed by the entrance as her eyes automatically travelled to the Master’s table where she was surprised to see the rider sitting in the Master Weaver’s chair. Her heart was racing but she took small determined steps in their direction although she should have waited for the master to invite her to join them. Well, the women certainly hadn’t been exaggerating. He was tall. Too tall, really. He made Master Terssan look like a dwarf even with the rider sitting and Terssan standing.

Terssan closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose when a loud bang signaled the girl’s arrival in the dining hall. That one often inspired more frustration than delight. His eyes held mild reproach in them as the girl joined without being invited although why he expected differently he wasn’t too sure. He opened his mouth to greet the girl but the rider took the opportunity away from him as he shoved the empty glass into Terssan’s hand. He bit his lip to stop himself from protesting and gestured for one of the drudges to come and collect the empty glass. ‘Riders,’ He thought to himself peevishly, ‘No respect for Masters.’ He murmured a ‘thanks’ as the drudge to the glass away and turned his attention back to the apprentice and his rider. He was almost looking forward to pawning off this impudent apprentice on an even more impudent rider.

***

Frayya’s eyes travelled automatically to the master but he seemed almost irritated as he passed off an empty glass to a drudge so her eyes settled on the rider instead. She was about introduce herself but stiffened when she saw the man examining her with his head tilted. Her hands clenched unconsciously on her skirt. Frayya didn’t think he had any right to look at her like that! It wasn’t as if she was his charge or that he would be training her at the Weyr. He was just the errand boy sent to get her. She was so indignant that she didn’t hear the boys entering behind her and she jumped about a foot in the air when his ‘no’ echoed off the dining hall’s walls. Her cheeks heated to a delicate pink as she watched the boys struggle back outside with her trunks.

“I will not be returning for a while,” Frayya responded with a sharp emphasis on the words he had forgotten as the comment struck home. She looked down trying to hide the distress in her eyes. She played with the end of her ponytail to give herself more time to collect herself. A sly smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she looked up and added coolly, “So I figured it would be best to pack accordingly.” She had everything she needed for a stay of unknown duration although she admitted to herself most of the things she had packed were not tools but rather the clothes she had designed for herself. She would not be parted from them. She didn’t care what the rider thought. Her clothes were more than just clothes to her they were a showcase of her hard work and unique designs. She had all the essential tools as well but those were mostly packed in the pack slung over her shoulders.

“I am Frayya, Senior Apprentice Weaver,” The young woman said taken the proffered hand and shaking it. Her light blue-grey eyes meet his green ones. She could see why some of the weaver women had been thrown into a tizzy with his arrival. She would happily trade places with them. They could be carted off by this huge, hulking man; she would much rather stay here. “I would be happy to show you our wares.” She said with her eyebrows lightly raised as it had sounded more like a demand than a polite question. Frayya pivoted on her heel and was about to sweep away leaving Q’sis to trail after her but Terssan grabbed her arm.

“I must get back to work, Frayya. I won’t be able to see you off,” Master Terssan said with ill-concealed worry on his face. “Mind yourself at the Weyr and listen to what Journeyman Baltran has to tell you.”

“I always listen, Master Terssan,” Frayya said patting his arm consoling with not a trace of the innocence that always seemed to correlate with guilt.

“You listen than do what you want,” Terssan growled half in exasperation half in amusement. He squeezed the girl’s shoulder, “Good luck, girl. Good day, Rider Q’sis.” He hurried out of the hall wanting to make sure his journeymen hadn’t done too much damage in his absence.

Frayya watched him go with a hint of sadness on her face. Master Terssan had looked out for her since she was thirteen Turns. He had always approved of her more than her own family had though she knew that she often frustrated the old man. ‘I’m going to miss him,’ She thought. She had worried a lot about living in a new home but she hadn’t thought about how strange it would be to training under someone other than Terssan. ‘Oh well. He wants me to train under someone else before I’m raised,’ She told herself. It was just another thing she had to do. She wondered what sort of special skills Baltran had that he wanted her to learn. It was hard to imagine anything the master couldn’t teach her. She shook herself out of her reverie and gestured wordlessly for the rider to follow her before whisking towards the exit.

The noon day heat of Southern Boll stifled every breath with its damp quality as Frayya led the way to their largest holding. The activity at the main hold usually reached a lull at this time of day but the hall continued to bustle with activity. They walked past rooms filled with people sewing, knitting, weaving, and running looms. The projects they worked on varied from simple day clothes to great tapestries commissioned by a Lord Holder. All were completed to the satisfaction of the masters otherwise the Apprentices and some Journeymen would find themselves cowering in fear. The holding that Frayya was leading the rider too had mainly clothing. It held things that were ready for sale and others that were just waiting to be packaged and sent off. The holding smelt of freshly laundered clothes as they passed through the entryway. The clothes were always washed one last time before sale to make sure that all the dye had been got out.

Frayya knew that Weyr life was different from Hold or Hall life but as she listened to the rider describe what he wanted in a dress for not one but three separate women her expression slipped into incredulity. She couldn’t imagine a Hall girl being pleased with receiving a dress from an admirer when two other women also received a dress. Her eyes had already subconsciously begun to pursue the ladies wear rack when he waved Frayya over in that direction. ‘Oh,’ She corrected herself, ‘Not three, four. He’s thought of a fourth.’ Normally, a woman would have been insulted by a man telling her that another woman looked like her only skinner but Frayya was used to these sort of comparisons. She needed to know measurements to create an outfit from scratch but she was not always able to obtain measurements particularly when the outfit was meant to be a surprise.

Frayya ignored the slim, long green dress the rider pulled out and moved along the racks thumbing through different dresses. “I like my own kind,” Frayya said tartly as she pulled out a rich blue dress. “Blue happens to be my favorite color to work with.” She held up the dress for his examination. It was certainly unique not something that the average Pernese wore. The dress was made of a satin-like material that fell to just above the knees. Intricately designed lace flowers came down over the bust and wrapped around the neck to form a halter top. A large band of the same lace wrapped around the waist to accentuate it. The bottom of the dress flared out only slightly and ended in a rounded hem.

“It might be a little too large for her but I could alter it for her once she tries it on. It would look lovely on a slender frame.” She held the dress out for him to take so he could inspect her work closer as she began to look for a suitable green dress amongst the racks. A thought occurred to her though and she stopped, “Are these for fellow riders? I’m not sure that dresses are the most practical unless you are looking for clothes for a formal occasion…?” It couldn’t be comfortable straddling a dragon in a dress. ‘I should’ve worn my pants today.’ She thought to herself as she smoothed out her skirt. She hadn’t really thought about having to ride when she was dressing this morning.

Frayya nodded curtly in answer as she waited for him to take the dress from her once he did she twitched her own light blue skirt in indication of her color preference. She stiffened as she noticed the less than approving expression on his face. What did he know about dresses and styles? She moved further along the racks so that she didn’t have to look at him while she continued to search for suitable green dress. “No,” She said not bothering to elaborate for the rider. The dress may be designed for warmer climes but women liked having a nice summer dress when they could afford it. She pulled out a long green dress just as Q’sis said he could find a Journeyman to do the alterations. That struck a nerve. She spun around to face him and said with a touch of anger, “I made that dress. You can’t have just anybody doing the alterations. They will mess up my material.”

Frayya almost snarled when he told her to shut her mouth but she reigned in her temper surprised that it had flared so easily. She hadn’t meant to insinuate that the Weyr was all work; she had only meant to make the logical observation that a nice tunic might be more practical for a rider. She snatched up the first long white dress she saw and then grabbed a metallic-like cream colored dress. None of the others were her creations. She certainly wouldn’t give him or the rest of his women the honor of wearing her handiwork. The dresses she had chosen weren’t awful, the masters would never let something awful go to the sale racks, but they lacked the unique albeit strange flare that often marked Frayya’s work. She glared at him as he sought out a Journeyman with her hip locked in a ‘don’t cross me’ manner. The dresses hung loosely over her arm as she waited for him to return. The sooner she could get away from this rider the better.

The anger and irritation evaporated from her face when Q’sis relayed the words of the Journeyman. Calmness stole over her features as she looked pass the rider to where the Journeyman worked. There seemed to be nothing threatening about her features but there was a coldness to the calmness that suggested later retribution. She handed the other dresses over to Q’sis without a fuss, after all, he had just complimented her tastes. The green dress would fall around the ankles in refined handkerchief hems. It was loose from the hips down while the top tier was more form-fitting. The sleeves were quarter length allowing for wear in most seasons. The color was not to dark or to light. The white dress had a normal hem that would also reach the ankles. The dress would float over the figure only hinting at curves by gently cinching in at the waist. The sleeves were short and fluttered over the shoulders. The cream colored dress was more regal. It had a more shiny quality with white beading that accented the waist and modest neckline. It was also long but not as loose as the white dress nor as tight as the green.

Frayya snagged the dresses he so unceremoniously tossed back to her. She didn’t exactly appreciate being assigned ferrying duty that was a thing for Junior Apprentices not a Senior Apprentice! But nevertheless she followed the giant rider out of the holding without commenting on it. As she reached the exit to the courtyard, Frayya stopped and turned to look down the crafthall’s corridors. “I will be a Journeyman when I return,” She said quietly to herself although the rider might well have heard. Her tone held no doubt or reassurances rather it sounded like a statement of fact. The young woman stepped out into the courtyard full of determination to make sure that her sojourn in the Weyr lasted no longer than a month. She was ready to be a Journeyman. She deserved it.

Frayya could not help but gape as Q’sis lifted her two trunks with ease and looped off as if they were no more than paper weights. Realizing that her mouth was open, she snapped it shut as she furtively glanced around and was dismayed to see some weaver’s smirking back at her. Frayya returned their smirks with a glare. It wasn’t like they hadn’t been looking too! She readjusted the small sack over her shoulders and made sure that the dresses didn’t drag across the ground as she hurried to catch up with his long gait. She stepped out of the courtyard surprised by the lack of a dragon to carry them off. She let the small sack slip through her fingers and onto the ground so that she could wipe off her brow with her freed hand. She was about to demand where his dragon was when she followed his gaze skywards and saw an almost brown dragon wing down from the watch heights leaving an actual brown dragon on watch.

As the tan landed in front of them with a great puff of dust, Frayya took a frightened step back. The apprentice weaver had never spent time among the dragons and she couldn’t help but feel frightened when confronted with their enormous size and swirling eyes. It took her several minutes to realize that Q’sis had spoken. Her grey-blue eyes traveled warily to where the knapsack rested between the tan’s legs. Frayya wasn’t overly fond of the proximity of the location to the dragon’s maw. She took a deep breath, unwilling to seem a coward, as she walked to wear the knapsack rested. She tried to hurry to get the dresses in place but her fingers fumbled a few times before she managed to get them safely tucked away. She practically fell over herself as she hurried to get out from between the dragon’s legs.

Frayya walked around to where she had seen Q’sis mount the dragon but as she came around the side the dragon made as if to stand up. ‘Oh you could just leave me here,’ Frayya thought to herself. She wouldn’t be at all sad to see the dragon leave without her. She might regret the loss of her clothes but she could always make more. She was disappointed when the rider reminded his dragon that they had forgotten their last piece of cargo: her. The weaver apprentice was wondering how on Pern she was supposed to climb up the side of the great beast (in a skirt of all things!) when the dragon decided to poke around the girl’s head with her fangs bared. She tried to stifle her scream but it came out as a terrified squeak. She flushed in embarrassment at her reaction. She knew that dragons didn’t attack people!

“I thought tans Impressed girls,” Frayya stated trying to shift attention to the rider and away from her embarrassment. She picked up her sack of tools and held them out to the rider. She wanted both her hands free so she could grab the tan tightly and pull herself up. She figured she was light enough that if she slipped and fell the rider would be large enough to catch her but she would rather prevent that from happening. She didn’t think she would ever be able to live down falling off a dragon. The weavers would love to tell that story for Turns to come. “If you could just pass that up to me when I’m settled I can hold onto that while we fly,” She said indicating the sack as she let him put his arm about her waist. She tried to sound casual about the prospect of flying even though she had never been this close to a dragon before.

Frayya didn’t have time to utter a retort before Q’sis hoisted her up onto the dragon. She stretched out her arms until she could successfully snag a point on the tan’s ridges that she could use to pull herself up the rest of the way. The apprentice weaver plopped her rump down so that both her legs hung off one side of the tan’s shoulder. Frayya fixed him with an icy glare when he told her to lift up her skirt but she nevertheless reached down and pulled her skirt up to knee-length. He legs were creamier in complexion than her face and arms since they were usually covered with long skirts or dresses. She wasn’t particularly bashful about showing her legs. It was more the rider’s commanding tone that made her want to resist him. She shuffled around in her seat trying to get comfortable as the rider climbed up beside her. She had only ever ridden a runner once or twice in her life and a dragon was extremely different. It felt strange sitting on top of a dragon’s back like she didn’t quite fit there.

The weaver watched Q’sis’s sure steps across the dragon’s back as he came to strap her in. She was distracted from him by the tan craning her neck around and resting it on her large shoulder. Frayya glanced down, then to the side, and then up before finally meeting the dragon’s steadily blinking eyes. This time the tan hid her fangs behind her lips and the apprentice found it difficult to look away from her multi-faceted eyes. She jerked her eyes away to the rider when he asked her what she was afraid of. She hadn’t really been able to discern much emotion from the rider’s face but she thought she saw a flickering of concern in his eyes. She shook her head and looked down as she traced the line of the leather straps. She refused to answer him for two reasons: one she wasn’t about to admit that she had never flown before and two he had told her to shut up. ‘You told me to be quiet,’ She thought to herself, ‘So I’m being quiet.’

Frayya let him grab her leg and pull it over the saddle into the proper position. Her skirt rode up even higher on her leg now that she was straddling the dragon. She watched as he began to strap her into the harness thinking that all the straps he used were a little excessive. Was his dragon super bouncy to ride or something? Was she in danger of being thrown off when the tan leapt skyward? Unlikely, given the way the rider was welding her onto his dragon’s back. She had promised herself that she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of uttering another sound so she restrained herself from commenting on it. Frayya jumped slightly when the dragon rumbled but then she heard the dray lowing back at the tan. She listened with mild amusement to the exchange and the corners of her lips twitched in a smile.

Frayya followed his guiding arm and tightened her arms around his thick waist. She figured that holding onto the rider was only customary because if she was able to shift even a little in all these straps then there was something seriously wrong with the Weyr’s tanner. She met his distorted gaze and managed to give a brave nod. The weaver was taken completely off guard when the tan rocketed into the sky. Her arms squeezed convulsively around Q’sis’s waist and she buried her head in his back. Frayya didn’t even get a chance to take one last look at the crafthall because before she could bring herself to peel her head away from the safety of the rider’s back they were borne into darkness. There was nothing. No her. No crafthall. No dragon. Only emptiness. She was screaming but there was no sound.

The weaver girl sensed air, feeling, and sound burst back into existence around her as the dragon brought them out of between. The screams, suddenly very audible, abruptly cut off when she realized they were coming from her own mouth. Her face was still buried in Q’sis’s back but she managed to lift her head up just enough to see the clouded sky around them and the strange rocks above which they hovered. Her arms were so tight around Q’sis’s waist that if he had been a smaller man she might have bruised one of his ribs. She stifled a raspy sob as she savored all her senses returning. She savored them right up until the first raindrop fell on her cheek then she realized that she was freezing. Her teeth clacked together loudly and her arms and legs were shivering violently against Q’sis and Unath. Her lacy top and thin summer skirt hadn’t offered much protection from the iciness of between.

Frayya’s frozen fingers were still clenched on Q’sis’s jacket when he reassuringly laid his hand on top of hers. This might have comforted her if not for the first clash of thunder which caused her to jerk her head out of Q’sis’s back and look around wildly. The thunder was answered by the call of dragons from the Weyr below and for the first time Frayya gazed down into the Weyr Bowl. She had never seen Pern from this perspective before. A waterfall glistened with white turning water as it fell into a small pool which than snaked along into an even larger lake. Small brown dots roved about a field which she assumed was a pen for the Weyr’s herdbeasts. She could just make out the carvings into the rock that marked the dragons’ weyrs although few dragons were lounging on the stone ledges in this weather. Her first thought to her dismay was, ‘Beautiful.’ Her second thought was of the home she’d left behind.

Frayya sat up a little straighter as the tan went into a dive following the water’s path. She hadn’t even landed yet and everything felt different. The air wasn’t thick with dampness. The sun wasn’t baking the holding…no, weyr…below. There were no apprentices scurrying to retrieve the clothes left out to dry before the rain hit. There were no dray-pulled carts taking finished merchandise to the Hold. There were no dyeing vats positioned in an out of the way corner so the smell wouldn’t be suffocating in the hall. It was a world alien to her filled with dragons and their riders. She would much rather be surrounded in her women’s world of weaving. She understood it. She had a place there. The young women had no place here.

The tan landed without jostling Frayya. She managed to detach her claws from Q’sis’s jacket as he began to unfasten her things. She fumbled with her own straps for a minute but her fingers were too cold to unhook herself so she just wrapped her shivering arms about herself to wait for his assistance. “I-I-I-I’ve nev-nev-never rid-rid-ridden a-a dr-dra-dragon before,” She forced out through her chattering teeth managing to sound defensive. She felt the need to justify her lack of composure to the rider who she was sure was judging her. Frayya just wanted to get her feet back on the ground although she wasn’t sure she would be able to stand. Her legs felt like she had left them between. She noticed while anticipating sliding off Unath like lard that the tan had conveniently landed in a puddle. At first, she thought it was an accident until she saw that there were more dry spots than puddles. ‘At least it’s a softer landing for me,’ Frayya thought as she rubbed her hands up and down her arms trying to warm them back up. She loathed the idea of trying to get the mud stains out of her pale blue skirt though.

Frayya’s lips turned down in an obvious sulk when the tan rider told her to be quiet once again. He had been completely rude all day! Every time she opened her mouth he had told her to shut up. If he wanted her to be some meek holder girl awed into silence by a rider than he had kidnapped the wrong weaver. She didn’t bother to hide her irritated expression as the rider threw her trunks unceremoniously off the dragon’s side. He might not think her things had value but they were extremely important to her. She saw the trunk begin to slide towards the water, “Hey!” She called unable to do anything as Q’sis was still shucking off her straps. To her surprise the tan caught the trunk in her jaws before it fell into the water, “Oh…” A hesitant smile appeared on her lips, “Thanks.”

Frayya didn’t have time for even a startled gasp as Q’sis sashayed down Unath’s arm with her. She flinched at the loud thud of her trunk on the ground glad that there was nothing breakable in the package. She drew back with a wary expression as the rider gave her a sly smile. The young woman let out a surprised huff as the rider tossed her over his shoulder like she was a little girl. She banged her fists against his solid back and kicked her legs out. “Put me down!” Frayya yelled but she soon realized there was no point in making a fuss as the man was solid rock beneath her fists. The weaver fell limp consenting to let the odious man carry her like a sack of potatoes.

The rain beating down on her back stopped and the air warmed noticeably indicating that they had passed under some covering. She lifted up her head to see that they had entered a large cave. The rain could be heard pounding down outside accompanied by the soft drips that fell from their clothes and hair. It was a large, vast cavern with glows and candles lighting the space. It was certainly spacious but it felt cold to Frayya. There were no brightly woven tapestries hung on the walls or the smell of freshly dyed clothes permeating the air. There was a slightly strange smell that she couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t unpleasant just different. “May I be put down now?” Frayya said making the polite question sound insolent.

Frayya felt the rider shift his weight onto his knees but she was unprepared for him to dump her on the floor. She hadn’t thought he would give into her request. She had assumed he would have carried her farther just out of spite. She found her feet but managed to trip over the hem of her skirt causing her to tumble backwards and land with a muted thud on the stone floor. Her breath whooshed out of her in a great gasp. She was on her feet in an instant her cheeks flame red in embarrassment or anger it was hard to say. She made a sound somewhere between a tsk and a hiss as she twitched her skirt back into place.

Q’sis was already walking further along the hallway leaving an extremely ruffled Frayya to follow like a scolded apprentice. The ceiling was still well over the weaver’s head as she entered the room a beat after Q’sis. She fervently wished that the unnaturally tall man hit his head hard on a low hanging part of the ceiling so she would have the opportunity to laugh at him. Muffled voices were issuing from some of the rooms and from one room there were noises that sounded suspiciously like…Frayya shook her head disapprovingly. It wasn’t even night time yet! She wouldn’t want to choose a room near that one. It would distract her. She might be a Hold-bred girl but she had lived at the crafthall long enough and although the crafthall certainly wasn’t as liberal as a weyr it was far more liberal than a hold. It didn’t bother her like it might bother some girl’s fresh from a hold. She just worried about it interfering with her work.

“Many men of the Weyr seem to lack courtesy,” Frayya snapped back feeling her anger flare back to the surface at his comment. The white dress might not be her own creation but it was a pretty, flattering thing. Just because a woman didn’t have curves didn’t mean she wasn’t worth looking at! Or worse, just because a woman had curves didn’t mean she should be flaunting them about all the time! A hint here and there about what lies beneath was certainly more tantalizing then being smacked in the face with it. Abhay had always liked her more modest styles than her flashy ones. It had been a while since she thought of him. Silly boy. Thought he was in love with her. “Maybe you should wait and see what her opinion is on it.”

Frayya stomped towards one of the doors waving away Q’sis’s advice. “I have no intention of Impressing anything,” The weaver declared as she shoved open the door to an empty room. She wasn’t going to set down any roots in this awful weyr that way as soon as she received her summons she would be back to the crafthall in the blink of an eye. “You obviously know nothing of Journeymen if you think they’re not needy.” Journeymen were the neediest things in existence. They were not quite Masters who were determined to have apprentices do everything but eat for them. Her roommates, former roommates now, being the exception since they wouldn’t dare to order Frayya around. “This one will do,” The weaver said standing aside to allow space for Q’sis to carry her trunks in.

Frayya rolled her eyes at Q’sis’ smirk and thought to herself, ‘Like I could forgot that with you for company.’ She didn’t deign to give him the satisfaction of a response. He might think that the lack of propriety bothered her but she was hardly a child anymore at 17 Turns even if Q’sis could still throw her over his shoulder like she was a child. She folded her arms under her chest and began to tap her foot as if Q’sis was keeping her from something other than moping about in bed for the rest of the day. Frayya didn’t apologize for her misunderstanding. She saw no reason too. “Just hang them up,” She ordered, “They’ll dry out. Preferably hang them by a window so they don’t get musty.”

Frayya fought the impulse to run into the room and lock the door behind her as the rider left with no more of an explanation than ‘wait’. She uncrossed her arms with a sigh and walked into the dim room. She could barely make out where the wash basin was with the mirror hung above it. She carefully navigated her way over to the mirror attempting to make out her reflection. Frayya pulled out her hairband letting the straight dark curtain fall around her face. She fiddled with her bangs trying to unstick them from her forehead and make them sit in an unbroken line. Frayya stopped messing with her appearance and walked back to the room’s entrance to wait for the rider. She leaned against the door frame trying to imagine living in this dark hole for several months.

The dark-haired woman turned her head over her shoulder to look back as she heard the rider’s footsteps approaching. She couldn’t quite hide the surprise on her face when she saw that he was carrying glows. That was actually…decent…of him. “Thanks,” Frayya said almost grudgingly. The glow he opened bathed the room in a blue light. The color was oddly comforting to the apprentice. It made the still empty room more inviting as she stepped into for a second time. Her eyebrows rose as she saw his hand trail towards the clasp on her trunk. She didn’t have anything in there that was secretive but she didn’t want him to see that the majority of what she had made his tan carry was her own clothes. She hurried over with the intent of suggesting that she could unpack later and that she should report to Journeyman Baltran but his comment brought her up short. She thought it was pretentious of him to describe crafters as people who supplied what he wanted. It was no wonder that some crafters and holders thought ill of the dragonriders. They thought they were so entitled to everything. ‘Maybe you should learn a little more about the people you protect,’ Frayya thought.

“They might surprise you,” Frayya said. The crafthalls were places full of life, intrigue, and the occasional scandal. There might be thousands of young people all across Pern who would die for a chance to come to a Weyr but Frayya wasn’t one of them. She was a crafter through and through. She opened the bag that held all her weaver tools momentarily forgetting about the trunk Q’sis was about to open. She carefully pulled out a pin cushion that had tons of needles of all shapes and sizes. There was a medium sized box that held tons of different thread colors that she took out as well. She set them both on the bed along with her knitting and crochet needles although to Q’sis they might look the same. She pulled up short giving him a skeptical look. “Yeah, I’ll be sure to lock it,” Frayya said agreeably although she was in fact disagreeing with him.