Author's Note: So…like two months since the last update I now have for your pleasure chapter seven! It's been down in the notebook for a good while just waiting to be typed up and I just haven't had that much time. Anyway I hope you enjoy. This has been a long time coming.


Chapter 7: While My Guitar Gently Weeps



It was five days until the gather festivities would commence when disaster struck. Ampara considered it a minor inconvenience, but everyone else was treating it like unexpected threadfall. She didn't think her duet partner was very adept at all, and they had even re-written portions of it on his account which meant that he had to get off and get some sort of cough. Ampara had set herself up not to care it all. It was entirely not her problem, but her lack of empathy was quickly reversed when she found out who her new partner was. If going to the gather hadn't been necessary for Ampara's new plan she would have feigned illness herself.

Ampara couldn't keep the unhappy look from crossing her face as Valtoren joined her from the background where she formerly never had to interact with him.

How disgusting…

Maybe she would feign sickness. Anything was better than being paired up with him…right?

"Don't worry, Valtoren is a quick learner and I'm sure Boroan will be well soon," the instructor cheerfully punctured her thoughts, obviously he had mistaken her look of horror for concern for her former dimglow of a partner.

Valtoren flashed what most would have taken as a charming, affable smile, but Ampara found it contemptible. She decided to track down Boroan and beat some good health into him.

"He's right, nothing to worry about. I'm sure I'll be able to pick up the slack," she knew that was as much a blow to her singing ability as it was Boroan's.

Ampara stared at him as if she would like nothing better than to strangle him and then chop his corpse into little bits.

Just wait I'll sing you into the ground; today, tomorrow, and every day until gather day. Then when that day comes I'll make the crowd weep so hard they'll forget you're even on stage.

She could feel just the barest amount of heat in her cheeks as the thought had intensified in her mind. If her mother had known that her deep hatred of Valtoren was inspiring her daughter to give a great performance then Valtoren might have replaced Boroan quite a bit sooner. Ampara hadn't discounted the thought of completely sabotaging the performance. In fact it had a very large appeal to her as well, but she couldn't risk it. Not even she was irreverent enough to insult the dragonriders by intentionally throwing the performance in the first place, but there was also the success of her plan that hinged on being able to move freely around the gather. If messing things up turned out to be her fault then her mother would send her packing out of sheer embarrassment, and then she'd really be in trouble later. Plus there was the added bonus of Valtoren being a hundred times more annoyed by being out performed rather than trying to embarrass him on stage.

"All you have to do is keep up…if you can."

The instructor, completely oblivious to the loaded conversation going on in front of him, called the rehearsal to order.

"From the top ladies and gentlemen, places please. Places."

***

Ampara couldn't remember the last time she had such an exhausting practice (especially since she had quite trying a good while ago). Valtoren was disgustingly good, but she had achieved her objective. At least she was fairly sure all of the hushed whispers and sidelong glances were for her. They certainly weren't for her arch nemesis she was sure of that much. Matíne pushed past her afterwards, and Ampara noted the look of bewilderment and suspicion. Tari was being oddly quite too as they walked together. Ampara couldn't understand their reactions. They knew she could sing well when she chose to.

"So how did I do?" Ampara finally asked as they began their pass behind the bodies of the hall's various buildings; dinner would be soon.

"Why don't you sing like that all of the time?" Tari burst out not able to contain it any longer with the opening she was given.

Great…didn't we just get done fighting? "What's the point? I'd hate to please my mother wouldn't I?"

"Ampara you have more talent in your pinky than most of us have in our whole bodies, and you act like it isn't a big deal or like you're nobody."

"Trying to tell me you're jealous?"

"No!" Tari clenched and unclenched her jaw, "I mean, I can't say that I wouldn't like to sing like you. I think after that everyone wants to be able to sing like you, but can't you see you're wasting a genuine gift? You could spend the rest of your life making crowds go 'wow' without even really trying."

Ampara groaned, lightly smacking her palm to her forehead, "Look Tari I may be a good singer, but there's more to life than Harper Hall. All I want is a chance to see if I want it because I really do or because it's been forced down my throat my whole life. I'm tired of being stuck here."

Tari sighed, "Ampara you don't get it. People would give up important body parts to be you instead of fighting their way up from the bottom. It's almost like you're spitting on the rest of us."

"If they want to be me so badly then they can go ahead and be me. I'd be happy to trade. You wanna' trade me Tari? Be first in line?"

Tari gave her friend a withering glower before marching off. Ampara let her go, and paused to sit on some nearby steps that led up to the back of one of the buildings, resting on the top step so she could let her long legs stretch out before her. Her finger found the small silver and sapphire pendant and she ran it back and forth along the chain as her thoughts ran away with themselves.

The only person she was spitting on by not doing her best was her mother. In her reasoning no one else cared what else she did with her 'talent' except for Tari apparently. Let them have her life if they wanted it. It certainly wasn't very appealing to her. Ampara couldn't see her 'talent' as talent, because she felt like she had been groomed into it. It was like her other had decided there was nothing more acceptable than being a harper. What was worse is that everyone treated her like she was Arai in miniature (even more so when she was young), and those days it was just like she had shouted at her mother. She might as well have been Arai's less talented twin. Ampara desperately wanted to be Ampara, and the only way to do that would be to get away.

Once she made tracks after the gather then she could do what she pleased when she pleased where she pleased, and the best part was nobody would be judging the book by an older and more illustrious cover.

"So you can sing, amazing," Valtoren eased down next to her, having snuck up on her while she was busy ruminating.

Ampara had every intention of jumping up like a piece of thread had just plopped down next to her, but instead she found herself restrained by a vice-like grip around her bicep.

"Let go of me and I might even try to forget your pathetic attempt at a backhanded compliment,"

"Don't get excited. I just thought we should have a little chat you and I."

"And what could I possibly want to talk to you about?" Ampara was trying very hard, though quite in vain, to squirm out of his grasp like something disgusting and slimy was touching her.

"It's very simple," and she was right to think that such a simple statement seemed to carry a very dangerous edge to it as he used his other hand to grab the collar of her jacket and haul them both up to their feet.

"See the thing is," Valtoren continued as if he wasn't being threatening in the slightest, "I didn't quite count on you being so good as you are. I really thought you were getting by on the good graces of your mother's mastery," he caught her fist and painfully twisted her arm as she attempted to slug him for that insult, "but it turns out you've been letting everyone underestimate you this entire time."

"Let go of me you sharding deadglow or I swear by Faranth…" Valtoren shut her up and momentarily distracted her from the tenacious struggle she was putting up against him by roughly shoving Ampara into the doors behind them.

"What is it exactly that makes you hide? Afraid you can't live up to mother dearest?" he looked her in the eye, and he was already too close to her face for comfort, "I think you're too arrogant for that, though it doesn't really matter, because no one likes an upstaging upstart; least of all when it's you."

Ampara couldn't help but laugh, so she had gotten to him, "Funny… I really can't find it in myself to care."

She had to admit his intimidation techniques had caught her off guard at first, and he had scared her just the tiniest bit. Ampara couldn't help but regain her swagger in the face of his feelings of inadequacy. She was pleased to see that her laughter just seemed to infuriate him more. A moment later she almost regretted it when his fingers bit deeper into her arms.

"If you out perform me you little…" Valtoren barked out a sharp cry as Ampara's foot connected with his shin which also allowed her to slide out of his grasp.

She took a little running start and jumped, landing on the dirt out beyond the step and whirled around.

"What? You can't do anything to me you wher-faced idiot. I'll perform how I like. You don't scare me so why don't you go use your bullying tactics to steal candy from some small children," Ampara drew herself up and crossed her arms, putting her nose in the air.

"Maybe not here, but you should watch your back at the gather little girl. All sorts of bad things can happen to people there."

"Hmph. Empty words from an empty mind," and with that she defiantly turned her back on him, and continued on to the dining hall before twilight decided to fully fall.

There was a sour twist to Valtoren's lips as he watched her leave. Better watch it little girl. That mouth is going to get you into trouble, big trouble.

***

As the sun set and some people were on their 'merry' way to dinner there was at least one person in particular who wasn't hungry. Gitar chords leaked from her office and her voice provided a soft accompaniment. Occasionally there was a pause to stop and scribble, but mostly Arai was tuning to herself for fun. It was the only hobby she had time for.

"I look at you all, see the love there that's sleeping, while my gitar gently weeps…" the knock at the door abruptly broke her concentration, and Arai realized she had forgotten her dinner…again.

"Come in," she called; sure it was one of the kitchen staff.

They always sent some food along when they realized her non-presence, but, much like her daughter hours before, she was very unpleasantly surprised.

"I don't have anything to say to you M'ran. You might as well leave," Arai scowled, and set herself at her most intimidating.

He just shut the door and went and sat in the chair that Ampara had occupied sometime before, "I've noticed since you've refused to answer any of the letters I've sent you since you left Southern," he was serious, but sounded more bemused than hurt.

"I made my wishes very clear."

"Well the phrase is 'time heals all wounds' not 'running away solves problems' in case you needed a reminder. I'd also like to remind you that I was always the more hard-headed of the two of us."

"I'm not sure that's true and if it was then it was a long time ago before you were 'M'ran' and before…" Arai trailed off, biting her lip as her scowl softened to a look of sadness.

M'ran didn't want to be cruel, but he said the name anyway to gauge her reaction, "R'farc."

Arai's skin seemed to drain of its natural color and almost reveal a greenish tinge, "Don't say that name. It's bad enough that he had to transfer to Great Cliffs, and now I'm going to have to see him at the gather. Weyrleader…what a joke, and the Weyrwoman is going to be with her dragon because of the clutch. There isn't going to be anybody to keep him in line. The Lord Holder is going to have a field day with him."

When Arai had first heard of Great Cliff's big mess she'd nearly burst into hysterical giggles which was much better than just dropping dead from the shock in her book. She hadn't even known R'farc had been transferred. When Great Cliffs Weyr had first been bolstered by the riders that came forward from the past they were still under strength. In an emergency measure a small contingent of riders from each of the other weyrs were sent to help them get back on their feet. Apparently, R'farc and M'ran were part of the contingent from Southern. Arai didn't have a clue until suddenly Weyrleader R'farc of brown Noranth was parading himself around like a child who'd gotten the first bubbly pie off the tray.

R'farc was a disaster. She knew that much from personal experience, and she couldn't imagine having to deal with him for four whole days. If she wasn't a master and it wasn't her duty she would march herself and Ampara straight back to the hall after that first evening, but there was also the fact that Arai stubbornly refused to let that man run her out again. She was ashamed that she had let him run her out a first time at all. There were so many friends and relatives that she'd left behind not to mention the more temperate climate, but she had convinced herself she needed a new start. It eased the blow that her newly widowed brother had agreed to come with her. Arai, despite her shame, was still sure it had been the right decision, especially for Ampara. A girl shouldn't have to grow up with her mother's ugly past hanging over her head.

It had been her own stupid mistake. M'ran had been newly impressed, and they'd come to Southern Weyr to congratulate him and she was about a turn older than Ampara at the time. It was perhaps a bit more unusual to search craftbred, but M'ran's head had always been up in the clouds more than on his studies. She hadn't been invited to go to the hatching itself since she was only a lowly apprentice, but she'd been sent along with her elders a few sevendays later for the purpose of helping copy some records so the Hall would have a duplicate copy. She'd met up with M'ran and at first things went really well. They'd been scheduled to be there a couple of sevendays as there were other projects going on besides the copying. Arai was just as curious and cocky as Ampara (if not more so), and so she figured out the lay of the weyr very quickly as it was far simpler than that of any of the others. One day she took it to exploring on her own while M'ran was in drills, and a green rose. She'd been weirdly entranced at the sight, and not being cloistered among her peers in one of the main buildings she became an unsuspecting target of R'farc and his dragon inspired amorous intentions.

M'ran hadn't realized Arai's absence until it was too late to undo the damage, and she'd gone back to the Hall shaken to the core. He had been sure that the harpers there would help her through it, but then Ampara came along nine months later. She cut off contact with him and relocated not too many turns after she had attained her journeyman status. Arai was adamant that Ampara would not be exposed to dragonriders, and in turn never suffered what she suffered. She was afraid that her child would somehow be forced to grow up too quickly, and in consequence Arai now had a daughter who refused to grow up at all. She wasn't lost on the irony of the situation, but she figured that as long as Ampara didn't rebel to the point of burning down Harper Hall then they could get past the rough spots and that her daughter could have a career unblemished by any unfortunate run-ins with dragonriders.

Arai knew that the whispers had never really died, but if the worst whispers about Ampara were that she was ungovernable adolescent then she could spend the rest of her life in peace. That wasn't so much to ask was it?

"I know, that's why I came. I was hoping you might do your duty and stick close to the Lord Holder so R'farc doesn't exacerbate the delicate situation there. You and the Lord Holder get on well with your mutual distastes so I'm hoping it wouldn't be too much to request."

She nodded a weary assent. Arai would do her duty as a master; it was no doubt expected of her already. M'ran seemed satisfied, and he stood to leave. He hated to ask her, and while he was well aware that she was on good terms with the Lord Holder ready his intent was to have her keep R'farc distracted. The brown rider had this thing about old flames, and while Arai might have to stand a few uncomfortable evenings in his presence it would allow some other things to go more smoothly.

"Now if you'd just point me in the direction of that impossible brother of yours I'll be happy to be out of your hair oh mighty mistress of the song."

"M'ran…" Arai paused like she wanted to say something, but she gave a small shake of her head, "you'll find him in his office I'd expect. The instrument work shop I'm sure you won't miss the smell of freshly cut wood and varnish."

He left, and she sat there for a few moments staring after the door wistfully. It was about a candlemark later that she realized that the words she had been tuning had flown completely out of her head.