Disclaimer: This piece is written in compliance with Anne McCaffrey's published rules on fan fiction and is posted here as a transformative work. I do not and will not make any profit from this piece, though I hope you all enjoy reading it as I enjoy writing it. I also do not make any claims to rights on this series. Anne McCaffrey and Todd McCaffrey are the owners of the Dragonriders of Pern® series, and I'm grateful for the chance to play on their literary land.

Chapter 6

The water in the bowl's lake was a turbulent blue, dashed to rushing by the waterfall at the far end, and decorated with swathes of drifting mist. It was a far cry from the calm, limpid waters of the original Telgar Weyr's lake. Grailse didn't let herself think about old Telgar much, but sometimes it seemed impossible not to dwell at least a little on the home where she grew up. A weyrchild, especially one with dragonrider parents, tended to have many caretakers and a lot of extended family, with change inevitable over time, but the Weyr itself remained a steady, constant home. Except that Telgar was gone, and Grailse was here, in this evergreen-draped almost-Weyr.

She tried again to skip a rock into the lake and failed, huffing in irritation. Telgar Weyr was gone, and yet it remained, living on in its displaced inhabitants. Grailse abandoned her skipping stones, dipped to pick up her basket full of the edible water plants she'd gathered, and began walking back towards the main living caverns. The cook was surprised when she swept in and dropped the basket on one of the open counters.

"Did Brant ask for those?"

"No, I just thought you could use them."

The cook shrugged. "No reason we can't, but if you're looking for useful work, I've no doubt that the Weyrlingmaster can give you something to do. Get off with you, Grailse. I think your aunt was looking for you."

Her aunt was looking for her? Grailse snatched up a bubbly pie on her way out of the kitchen, eating it while she walked towards Zella's office. Eating while in transit was a useful skill when you burned stress by getting things done.

When she entered the outer room, she glanced around curiously at the changes that had taken place since the last time she'd been by. The bookshelves were more ordered, the desk stacked higher with papers, the hearth finally properly arranged, with a fire banishing the pervasive damp. The room that had once been the Weyr outpost's storage for dry goods was finally beginning to look like a headwoman's office, all while Grailse was monopolized by other tasks, large and small, that took her away from her aunt's exacting eye.

The one thing missing from her aunt's office was her actual aunt. A quick glance in the living quarters beyond showed a tidily kept room, but nothing more. Grailse hesitated by the fire, looking at a few small portraits set on one of the bookshelves. An infant Grailse smiled back at her, held by a young man wearing the knots of a bronze rider. Grailse touched it lightly, then turned to leave.

"Are you not quite competent enough to handle this without troubling me, weyrwoman?"

Grailse would have been surprised to hear her aunt's raised voice if "weyrwoman" hadn't been tacked on the end. As it was, her jaw tightened, and she watched as Zella stomped into the room, followed by Taraline sweeping in behind her. Both women glanced at Grailse, then their eyes flicked past her in dismissal and locked back on each other. In this case at least, Grailse was scenery, her discretion trusted implicitly, even by the Benden weyrwoman.

"I'm more than competent, Headwoman Zella," Taraline snapped. "But I've found the Weyr given into my care to be less than cooperative on some points!"

"As the Weyr has found you less than satisfactory on others!"

Taraline straightened, her face abruptly turning stony. Her response was clipped. "See that someone brings me the relevant records. I won't ask again." Her eyes tracked across Grailse and away, avoiding meeting her gaze, and after an awkward pause, she turned and left, jerking the door behind her, only to bring it closed with a deceptively gentle click.

Zella inhaled deeply for a moment before turning to Grailse. "Grailse. You won't speak of this."

Grailse mutely shook her head.

"Good girl. Did you need something?"

"Wilne said you were looking for me."

"Yes, I was. Thank you for coming by." She gave her a smile and moved towards the desk, consulting a small folio for a moment. "Vinesprings Hold has requested aid from the Weyr."

Grailse racked her brain for their new geography and came up with a small hold situated about halfway between the old Weyr and the new one.

"What for?"

"Rebuilding efforts. They suffered a fair amount of damage during the earthquake. V'tend will be sending the candidates for a day or two with a couple of wings. He requested some organizational help. Can you take care of organizing supplies? It's the standard fare. Non-perishable goods, Healer supplies, odds and ends for building and repairs, surplus clothing."

"Yes, of course. I'll check with V'tend on timing."

"Thank you, m'girl. You've been invaluable. I don't know what I'll do after Hatching."

"Oh, Zella. You don't know…"

"If not this one, another," Zella replied firmly, reaching out and pulling her into a tight hug. "You were always dragon-touched, same as your da." Grailse's arms tightened for a moment, then she made herself relax.

They hugged for a moment, then Zella let her go and waved her out of the office. "And remember, not a word about what you heard before."

"I would never."

And Grailse wouldn't. She wasn't very fond of Taraline either, but nothing good could come of encouraging discontent around their temporary weyrwoman. Some transfers never quite settled in, but it still seemed passingly odd that the gold rider and her queen were looked upon with such suspicion. A weyr had to have a queen, its living heart, and in the void left by Myrlyth, the dragons at least should have gravitated towards Kesseth quickly. But the discord lingered. And while Zella and Taraline kept their distaste for each other behind closed doors, they seemed to respect each other less by the day.

Grailse nearly ran straight into Morika near the sleeping chambers. She blinked, taken aback. The other girl was wide-eyed and staring, and Grailse took in her expression, the plait in her hair half undone, and grasped her arm, turning her around and walking her back to one of the cots. No one else was around. She pushed on her shoulders until the holder girl sat, then fetched her some water, mentally rearranging her schedule. Supplies would have to wait.

"Morika, whatever happened to you?"

"Oh. A'ton introduced me to Fay, and Fay worked with me, then they needed help with the W-weyrwoman." Morika's eyes sank closed briefly. "I'll be okay, really. It took me a little bit the past couple of times, too."

She certainly didn't look like she was going to be okay. Grailse chewed on her lip for a moment, then sat down to Morika. Morika had worked with Balani a couple of times since Grailse had been assigned to help with records, but she had never seen the empath in the immediate aftermath. "I didn't know you were working with her today. I wasn't down there to take down records."

"I don't think I was supposed to work with her today. Mebb said that she was bothering the dragons. Kesseth was nearly beside herself."

"Bothering the dragons?" That was a new development.

"They could feel her. She kept asking them where Myrlyth was. Why they wouldn't help her." Morika waved one shaking hand through the air. "I…" She paused, closing her eyes again. "I had to shut her down."

Grailse stiffened. "What?"

"Fay had to show me how, and Pessa had to join to my mind. We had to… to blunt her, so she couldn't reach out to the dragons. Close her in a loop, a wall, like the reverse of a shield. And then Mebb gave her something to help her sleep."

Grailse digested that for a moment. The fine hairs on her arms were standing on end. She debated what to say and found herself unexpectedly at a loss.

Morika rubbed her eyes with one hand, then drank some more water. "Thank you for this. It's hard to come out of it. I never worked with a patient as powerful as she is, and what I'm doing feels wrong, like I'm hurting her instead of helping her."

The silence stretched for a moment while Grailse's mind raced. Finally, she ventured, "So no records tomorrow morning?" and cursed herself for how it sounded.

But Morika didn't seem offended. "No, I think she's going to have to sleep for a bit. I guess we can catch up on the records we have so far."

Grailse rallied. "We do have plenty of those." She smiled encouragingly, and Morika managed a smile back. "When's the last time you saw your brother?"

The lightening in Morika's eyes seemed to herald the girl coming out of the worst haze from her encounter with Balani. "Not in a bit."

"Well, then why don't we go find him?"

If either of them knew that the other also felt the same uneasy sense of foreboding about the struggles with Balani, neither voiced it aloud. Morika, for her part, was quiet, but seemed to be more alert. Grailse was thinking quickly over the sessions she had had taking dictation from Balani since Morika had woken her, and feeling something troubling that she couldn't put a finger on. But she certainly wasn't going to say anything now, with the reserved holder girl burning her talents to mental exhaustion to bring Balani's extremes under control.

They found B'lor with H'ralen, the two working on riding straps in one of the main workrooms. The scent of oil and fine leather permeated the air. A few other riders were stationed around the room, either singly or in pairs, with a low chatter rising and falling.

"Lo!" H'ralen said, spotting them first as they walked over. "Extra hands to help us!"

B'lor looked up and grinned, then motioned for Morika and Grailse to sit on the bench across from them. "Probably too much to hope that V'tend sent you down here to do this for us?"

Grailse snorted. "You would trust candidates with your riding straps?"

H'ralen made a show of sliding his work away from them.

"Perhaps not," B'lor said. "Sister dear, hand me that jar." He indicated a jar full of wax, which Morika passed over to him.

"The Weyrlingmaster does seem to keep everyone busy enough, it wouldn't be that big a surprise," she ventured.

"Ha! Of course he keeps you all busy," H'ralen said.

B'lor shook the jar at his sister. "If candidates had half a chance to think about the fact that they left everything they knew behind to show up at a Weyr they've never been to, to try to Impress a dragon and take up an occupation that involves risking their lives, most of them would go home within two days. So better to keep them busy!"

"Besides," H'ralen mused. "Candidates are cheap labor."

Morika surprised them all by playfully chucking a rag at H'ralen, which landed across his face. A muffled, "Harsh," came out before it slid back off, and the girls giggled.

"Speaking of cheap labor," Grailse said. "I hear we're going to Vinesprings Hold."

"You heard right," B'lor said. "Our wing is going, too. So it would be to your benefit to help us with these riding straps."

He raised an eyebrow at them, and the two candidates moved closer and began to pay attention. Not all their lessons were overseen by the Weyrlingmaster, and even for Grailse, weyrbrat that she was, there were still things that had to be learned from scratch. She glanced from the two riders to Morika and filed a thought away for further consideration, then turned her attention back. She had a few things to mull over, but for now, H'ralen was filling her hands with a pile of cracked riding leathers and a jar of oil. For now, there was work to do.

Author's Note: Time for a new viewpoint! Welcome to Grailse's point of view. We'll hear from her a few more times before this story ends. Definitely some plot points building in this chapter. Also a small joke... candidates really are the interns of the Pernese world, and I had a hard time not titling the chapter to that effect. Cheap labor! Brew some klah! Impress your superiors (or a dragon)!

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