"Dear one, you have eaten three already! If you continue at this rate you will be bigger than a mature bronze and you are only three weeks hatched!" Jemma scolded the golden beast lovingly as the young queen flew around the hatching grounds snatching up wherrie one right after the other.
I am supposed to be larger and grander than any other colors. I am a queen! I itch! The young beast grumbled and landed next to her weyrmates to be scratched and soothed.
"If you ate less love, then you wouldn't grow so, and your skin would not stretch and
itch," Jemma reminded her and scratched the queens shoulder scales and rubbed cool salve over the afflicting areas. The beast cooed happily and allowed her eyes to close, content.
Jemma had been forced to learn much about Weyr life in the three week span and was adapting accordingly. She disliked the current Weyrleader, however, for he was a stern and hard disciplined man, not to mention much too old for her taste.
T'eagan had been a fine Weyrleader before the Pass had started, but now that Threads were falling he was ineffective and Ostagar sustained the most casualties of all the Weyrs. A change was needed, Jemma thought, if Ostagar was to improve in standing.
Nemerith is an ugly beast, Aesfeloth commented and Jemma chuckled in response.
"We cannot change anything now, dear heart. You are much too young still…" She reminded her partner. Jemma's thoughts drifted to worthy candidates for Weyrleader. It was not her choice, but she could have a preference all the Same. Skye was an effective fighter and commander. Of all Wings, hers was the less Thread-barred.
Osgilith is a handsome one. You fancy Pern's Bronze Woman, love? Aesfeloth questioned as she sunned herself in the grass.
"Hush you sweet thing. It will not matter…" Jemma sighed and washed the dry skin away from her beast who sighed happily.
A green approaches, the queen said and rose up her head and glanced at the smaller beast (though it was full grown).
Jemma turned to face the now dismounted rider as he rushed towards them.
"Weyrwoman! Threads fall over Nerat, heading west towards Keroon. T'eagan requests that you come inside to the Weyr." he said and saluted her and the queen.
"That is half a world away from here. Why am I to be cooped up inside when there is no danger?!" Jemma demanded, but sighed, knowing she must go.
The two returned to the Weyrwoman's chambers, Aesfeloth falling asleep on the ledge, resting deeply in the sun.
Footsteps down the hall gave his presence away before he entered the woman's weyr.
"Gather the women of the lower chambers, Weyrwoman. Benden and Igen Weyr have requested aid," T'eagan ordered of her, "Numbweed and fresh bandages will be needed. This Thread falls in an abnormal pattern, and early," He commanded of her.
Jemma was steadily getting used to her duties and knowing that she was in charge of healers was essential on days like this.
"Who are you sending?" Jemma questioned as she began to write out orders onto sheets of paper to be issued out among the Bowl.
"B'leth's wing for certain and S'nel's. And Skye's skills will be needed as well. That is eighty dragons to aid Igen. They have requested Southern's help as well. Nemereth says that they send 100 to aid." T'eagan informed her and left swiftly to prepare for battle.
So T'eagan was going to be sending Skye to fight Threads. As Weyrwoman she had come to understand that it was dragon folk's duty to protect Pern from the falling menace, but still she worried.
They had many riders injured on a regular basis after Threadfall and the wounds to both man and dragon were terrible. One rider already this Pass had lost an eye and one dragon was out with a wing ripped all to shreds from the organic matter eating silver strings. Jemma did not want anything like that to happen to Skye. Still, she didn't have time to ponder over the girls fate when things needed to be done in preparation for the wounded and injured which were soon to be streaming in shortly, once the aid was sent to Keroon and Nerat.
The three Wings sent by Ostagar hovered above the Weyr till they were all in correct formation, and then blinked from the sunny sky into the chill of between and reappeared hovering, spanned out bellow a vast number of other riders in the red Keroon sky.
The Wings above them ducked down and flew up and dashed across the sky laced with the silver threads. Dragons blinked in and out of between as they or their riders got a taste of the threats sting. Moments later the forces from Southern Weyr appeared with them, and the new aid rushed up to relieve those who had already been fighting for hours.
Skye fed Osgilith all the firestone he could chew when his head angled back towards her reach, and she held tightly as he swooped here and there, torching clumps of Thread as it fell in its currently unpredictable patterns.
The records from the last Pass had been left in Weyrs throughout Pern, detailing that Threadfall was very predictable, but every so often could change up, just as the Red Star's orbit itself did.
Hours passed and injured came into the Weyr asking for help, numbweed, and klah.
As Weyrwoman, Jemma had to help organize and make sure that all those hurt got attention and all Threadscared skin got numbweed applied to it immediately.
Finally as Jemma was pulling out another large pot filled with the green healing slime, she heard Aesfeloth bugle the sounding return of what had been left of the Wings sent to Keroon.
Osgilith and Skye return unharmed, the golden queen soothed her rider's fears, as the girl had nearly dropped the pot in haste to run to the Bronze Woman's weyr to check. What a silly thought that was. She probably didn't even like her, Jemma thought and sighed. Surely Skye had her eye on someone else by now? Three weeks in the Weyr and the two hadn't spoken since Impression.
T'eagan sent all the orders to bronze riders...
Aesfeloth wishes to know if we are harmed, Osgilith said as he glided down to the weyr ledge, lowering his neck so that the woman rider could slide off onto the safety of the ground.
"We are well, you know that. I don't know why you're asking," Skye commented as she left the initial ledge and walked down the rock hallway into the bedroom.
She was exhausted after having fought the falling menace for six hours straight, but her Wing had not been injured and the help had been much needed. All the better for Nerat and Keroon were burrow and spore free. Their Lord Holders could rest easy for a few days at least.
Aesfeloth says that the Weyrwoman is relieved, the dragon responded again, laying down to rest as well.
She was probably just asking to make sure that all those returning were unharmed, Skye thought to herself, to which Osgilith grunted in dispute, but did nothing more. The brunette didn't have her hopes up too high. With so many other fine bronzes to choose from in Ostagar and Southern, and even in the rest of Pern, why would the Bronze Woman be so attractive. She wasn't, and in her mind, that settled it...though Skye knew that she would never object to taking the new Weyrwoman on as a weyrmate.
She sighed and stripped from her riding gear and put on regular cloth pants and a fleece shirt. She tied up her boots and stuffed her gear at the entrance to the bedroom and made her way down into the Bowl. The women and older riders who had not flown into battle would probably need help making sure every injured rider got aid.
She made it to the infirmary before she spotted the slim figure and tight auburn hair pulled back out of her face. The brunette turned around to head to the kitchen to help cook up some food for the workers instead.
The Bronze Woman is here, Aesfeloth cooed to her rider from her loft inside the Bowl. The Weyrwoman froze for a moment before she turned around to search the crowded infirmary for the slim rider which she dreamed of far too often.
She spotted Skye just as the woman had turned to leave upon spying her. "Skye!"
The brunette sighed and stopped before she could make it to the hallway. She felt the woman grab her arm and turn her around gently. She stood tall then, and raised her chin, putting on the perfect poker face for the Weyrwoman while her insides were scrambled at the sight of her.
"We have need of your hands in the infirmary. These men are clumsy...will you help?" Jemma requested, surprised with herself for having thought of such a fast excuse to grab hold of the woman.
Jemma smiled, relieved, when the brunette nodded.
"Of course Weyrwoman, whatever you ask of me. I am yours to command," Skye responded and moved towards the pot of cleaning bandages with the brunette.
The healing went well and the two found little reasons to call each other over, or talk to one another throughout the day, when finally Skye's shirt was dirty with numbweed and blood from helping and her body exhausted.
It was then that Jemma returned to her, and lay a hand on her shoulder, "We have enough help in here now to relieve you. Thank you so much for your help," She smiled.
Skye bowed her thanks and as she rose her stomach gave a loud grumble and her face flushed as she stood still.
"Oh my! I'm so sorry! You haven't eaten since Threadfall have you?! How careless I am! You probably came down for food earlier!" Jemma exclaimed, furious with herself for her lack of judgment and mistreatment of her secretly favorite rider.
"Not at all, it was a pleasure. I can just grab some klah and bread..." Skye reassured her, but the Weyrwoman would have none of it.
"Come, I'll take you to my weyr and you'll have a proper meal fit for a fighting rider,'' Jemma said, taking the girls hand firmly and leading her up the stairs. Many eyes gazed upon the two, despite being busy tending to the injured. Word got around fast in a Weyr, and gossip was often rampant.