Hello again! Apologies for the late update - there were many things with this story I had to go over in my head before being able to continue. (When Len plans, you should be afraid...)
Anyways, I promise the time jumps will stop soon enough! :) Thanks for reading and please enjoy!
Chapter Eight: A Transfer's Introduction
In all her turns , Biime had never felt so out of her depth as she did sitting in the mess hall of Tennar Weyr. She'd arrived mere hours ago, and yet word must have spread about her quickly; the hall had filled up since Jillen had brought her in here, and the weyrfolk simply wouldn't stop staring. Well, it was understandable; the sight of a new goldrider was perhaps exciting for them.
"You'll have to excuse my nosy Weyr," Jillen laughed as the two women sat a table and ate. She was a good Weyrwoman from what little Biime had seen of her; young, inexperienced, but Jillen had apparently managed to get a good hold on leadership in the few turns Tennar had been around. Biime found it extremely interesting to observe
"Oh, they're no worse than any other Weyr," Biime assured her. It was true; the numbers at Tennar were still small, so this amount of attention was nothing compared to how the whole of Ista Weyr had looked at her when they heard she was transferring here.
Tennar Weyr had become rather notorious over the past turn after its first hatching; certainly the talk of the table every meal time. Rightfully so, too; Biime hadn't been here a day yet and she'd already seen a group of female riders chatting (not something you usually saw at Ista). Then, of course, there was that – which Biime hadn't seen firsthand yet.
"I can't promise you'll have it easy," Jillen said. "And I'm not just talking about the workload. We're hardly Pern's favourite Weyr." The Weyrwoman almost looked guilty as she said it.
"I think I can handle it." It wasn't like she'd transferred here for power or glory anyway; simply because Thread was arriving soon, and a Weyr shouldn't have just one goldrider.
Well, perhaps she also felt like she needed some excitement in her life.
There was a loud chorus of laughter from the table in the far corner that drew Biime's attention over to it. It was perhaps the only table that wasn't staring at her, and – whilst she hardly craved the attention – she found it odd.
"You should have seen your face!" one of the men exclaimed – banging his fist against the table.
"I've never seen a more beautiful sight," the only woman sitting there said with a sigh. "That expression will be in my dreams every night."
A tall and rather stern looking man, who the laughter seemed to be aimed at, kept staring at his plate. The irritated twitch in his eye didn't go unnoticed by Biime. "Don't you all have better things to do with your time than watch the weyrling lessons?"
"Most definitely not."
"Oh, I see you've noticed Tennar's troublesome group." Jillen's laugh forced Biime to look back at her. She felt somewhat embarrassed that she'd been caught staring at the table.
"Troublesome group?" she asked.
Jillen nodded and tore off a bit of bread to eat. "They act up more than the weyrbrats do. You'll know them all soon enough, that I promise."
"Are they riders?"
"A mix of crafters too; that's what makes them so dangerous."
Biime's eyes widened. "Dangerous?"
"Oh, nothing serious," Jillen shook her head. "Well… nothing really serious… yet."
Finding the whole conversation a little worrying, Biime looked back over at the table, trying to work out what made that particular group so problematic. She suddenly found her eyes locked with the tall man. A slight breath caught in her throat as she felt the dark eyes pierce her. His face was more youthful than she'd first thought, but it was so covered in scars that she found it difficult to see past them.
Neither looked away from one another for a good while – Biime could feel the others at the man's table noting the strange staring contest too, but she ignored them. Then, without any sign of warning, the man stood up and walked towards her.
The whole mess hall felt silent.
The tension that filled the room unnerved the goldrider: could one a man really cause such a wave of unease for a whole Weyr? It seemed so. There were only two people unaffected by the shift in atmosphere: one of the man's friends who followed him over and the Weyrwoman herself.
Stopping right in front of her, the man continued to stare for a moment longer…
…and then he held out his hand.
"T'oa."
Was that an introduction? Biime assumed so and cautiously shook the man's hand. His skin was cold to touch.
She didn't even get a chance to say her own name, as he continued as soon as their hands touched.
"I trust Wakarenth is in good health?"
Biime blinked. "I wasn't aware you were told our names."
"The Weyrleaders tend to avoid telling me anything to do with Weyr business," T'oa said. Jillen scoffed slightly. "Aath alerted me of you both."
"Your dragon, I presume?"
She swore she saw him flinch.
"Aath is my beast, yes."
The man who had followed T'oa shuffled uncomfortably beside him – exchanging quick glances with the Weyrwoman. Why exactly he's followed for a simple introduction, Biime didn't know. Then again, she wasn't sure why this particular rider had approached her. Perhaps this was his idea of a warm welcome? He hadn't even let go of her hand yet.
"How long until your gold Rises?"
"T'oa!" the friend gasped, grabbing T'oa by the shoulder.
Biime smiled to let the man know she didn't mind – though she was certainly confused. "Not too long, I suppose. Why? Do you plan to Chase?"
"I plan to win."
Even then, no one in the room spoke. Biime would have laughed if it was anyone else, but something about this man's eyes told her he was deadly serious. Maybe he was simply a big-headed bronzerider.
"Really? My Wakarenth is very picky, I'd hold off making bets, if I were you."
"Betting is for an uncertain outcome."
The friend's grip on T'oa tightened, and this time he tried to pull him away completely. "T'oa, that's enough. You and Aath need to stop messing about now."
"Did you finish up that new design, Kain?" T'oa asked, still not taking his eyes off Biime.
"That has nothing to do with this conversation. Leave the goldrider alone," the Kain character snapped. It seemed he was the only one in the room who had the nerve to argue with this T'oa.
T'oa chuckled. The sound was hollow and cold. "Everything has to do with this conversation, Kain. Everything."
"Ok great," Kain continued, his tone become lighter. "In that case, Weyrwoman, did you get the pleasure of seeing the weyrling's training session this morning?"
Jillen seemed to understand Kain's aim immediately. So did T'oa, as his whole face frowned. "Why, no I didn't, Kain. Please, enlighten me, what happened?
"Well, they were practicing flying formations, as always, and T'oa here started–"
As if the words shook sense into him, T'oa let go of Biime's hand and turned to hit Kain on the head. Kain looked positively thrilled at the reaction.
"Cut it out, wherry breath."
The voice that spoke then wasn't the same voice Biime had been hearing up until that point. It was softer, more human that it had been – but that only unnerved her more. It was like he'd suddenly snapped out of a daze.
"Whatever, idiot," Kain grabbed T'oa's wrist and started dragging him back towards the table. "Now, let's talk about that fantastic lesson this morning. What was it again? 'Kain! Get me down, please!'?"
It was like someone had just thrown a log back on a simmering fire, and it burst into life once more. The whole mess hall started chatting again – and from what Biime could hear, not a single conversation was about what had just happened. It was like there was an unspoken pact between everyone in the room that they didn't comment on this T'oa's actions.
Looking to Jillen in hope of some explanation, Biime wondered if she'd just imagined everything that happened a moment ago. Obviously not, as the Weyrwoman still looked rather embarrassed.
"Dangerous," Biime agreed.
Laughing, albeit nervously, Jillen nodded. "Yeah, well, everyone has to have a first meeting with T'oa. And they almost always go like that."
"I don't even know what 'that' was…"
"That was T'oa," Jillen's eyes locked on Biime's – but it seemed like she was watching her reactions more than anything. "T'oa of Black Aath."
Oh.
Honestly, Biime wasn't sure how she should react. She just… didn't know. What should anyone saw to that? What was the correct response? Oh, she'd heard the rumours all right. Who on Pern hadn't? The only thing she could do was take a deep breath.
"The mutant?"
Lucina wandered out into the Weyr Bowl, letting her eyes sweep across the surroundings to see who was out there. At this time of day, most weyrfolk would be having lunch, so it was relatively quiet with the exception of the odd dragon loitering about. Though, the Weaver wasn't exactly happy to see a certain dragon staring at her.
Are you done?
She shivered as Aath's voice reached her mind. Was he this outspoken with everyone? Couldn't T'oa tell his dragon to stay out of other people's minds? Though, Lucina doubted even T'oa's ability to control the black weyrling.
My social nature aside, may I press you for an answer? Aath prodded, peering a little too far into Lucina's mind for her liking… yet again.
Despite not wanting to, she walked over to where the black sat. There was a gold next to him that must have belonged to the new goldrider arriving today – but that dragon paid neither of them attention. Though, it did go to show just how big Aath had grown in his first turn. The gold may have been bigger than Gosforth, but Aath was bigger than her.
"Y-yes," Lucina nodded, fishing into her bag for one of the examples to show him. The small square of dark fabric was light, and frayed around the edges from where Lucina had cut it haphazardly, but it was what had been stitched into it that Aath wanted to see. It was a smaller version of a normal wingrider knot; the lilac of Tennar thread entwined with a stark black.
Yes. This is exactly what I envisioned. I shall let T'oa know you have finished it. Aath nodded proudly and went silent for a moment.
"I don't understand what it's for…" Lucina mumbled as she peered down at her own work.
It's a shoulder knot.
"But, we already have shoulder knots," the Weaver frowned, pointing to the one around her own shoulder. "And they're much easier to see and transfer between outfits, unlike this little stitched thing."
You will only wear them on your riding gear.
The use you 'you' didn't go unnoticed by Lucina. It was, however, ignored.
"Then why can't the riders just wear these on their riding gear?"
Because otherwise they will be seen from a distance.
Lucina sighed. Really, Aath was hopeless. She couldn't tell whether he was extremely slow and dim-witted, or very intelligent but assumed everyone else could read minds. "You need to see knots even more clearly in flight, why would anyone want to hide them?"
Aath shook his big head, as if he was exasperated. I am a black dragon.
"I… can see that…"
I'm grateful your eyesight isn't impaired, Lucina got the feeling T'oa's sarcasm was rubbing off on Aath. I mean, I am a black dragon, which isn't something most riders approve of. I do not wish for T'oa's knots to show that so clearly.
"But… people will see you and sort of assume your colour…. right?"
If hate is directed at me, that is fair enough. If T'oa is without me, he doesn't deserve a hateful reaction.
Lucina looked at the black, unsure how to respond. On one hand, she found it unbelievably sweet that Aath thought about T'oa's well being – even if he never made an effort to show the weyrling himself. However, she was still annoyed that there were so many things that Aath (and subsequently T'oa) didn't tell everyone. After the hatching, T'oa made it clear that he did not approve of Impressing Aath. Yet, after disappearing for a little while, the two reappeared with some sort of massive secret between them. They'd spent the whole turn going from person to person giving strange orders or advice, yet never giving any reason or explanation for it.
And, to Lucina's irritation, she seemed to be their favourite person to order about. If it wasn't telling her to sign back up for Candidacy, it was designing making these alternate shoulder knots or something else entirely.
Still, they'd promised that it would all be over after this first turn. Whatever 'it' was…
And that meant it would be over soon.
Though perhaps that wasn't as much of a blessing as she first thought.
