Authors Note: As always, thanks for sticking with me. Even through extremely long school induced delays (finally graduated, huzzah!), and even more work related ones (at least I hope you haven't entirely given up on me, thank goodness for story alerts eh?) plus I moved. Talk about crazy busy! :) Ready. Set. Read (and review! Presuming you haven't all died from old age, sorry about all of the gray you may have accumulated whilst waiting!). Cheers ~Mage of Roses

Chapter 10: And Your Bird Can Sing

Ampara had no legitimate reason to be nervous, but the feeling was making her snappish and irritable, more so than usual. Her interaction with that man from earlier was nagging at the back of her mind (especially the part where she hadn't had the upper hand, at all), and her dress was green. She was supposed to give the most spectacular performance of her life, fitting as it was to be her last before she disappeared into the great unknown to have her own adventures (wiping Valtoren's nose in her prowess to boot before getting away), and her mother had the nerve to commission a green dress. The last sharding thing she needed was bad luck, and wearing that color was like begging thread to fall right on top of your head. Ask any Pernese man or woman and he or she would tell you the same.

"Nonsense, it brings out the color of your eyes. You'll be fine." Arai's words of "comfort" flitted through her daughter's mind even as they stood back stage together and the harper master fussed with the dress.

"But…"

"Hush, like I said, it brings out your eyes, and that's just a silly superstition. You're old enough to know better Ampara; not some green apprentice… pardon the pun."

Ampara 'hmph'd' and scrunched up her nose, causing her mother to tell her to, "Stop making silly expressions, your face will be stuck that way," and she made sure to stick her tongue out at her dear old mum once her back was turned.

It was dark green too; no mistaking it for anything other than what it was (no hiding it either). Her tanned flesh peeked through the tops of the sleeves where a few jeweled studs held the fabric together, forgoing the traditional underarm seam, flaring outward at the wrists. The neck was in a 'v' shape, as was the fashion, and she was glad it was not as severe as many she'd seen. There was a belt of some translucent sea green material that fell gently about the hips, and then another large swath that hugged the skirt from the knee down; the point of interest for her mother's fussing. She kept rearranging how the fabric fell, or trying to augment how much green showed between the two pieces. Arai also was fond of poking her with the jeweled pin holding it all together at the waist; the very sharp pin. Shard it all, didn't the woman have anything better to do than… than poke her to death? Healers were less cruel with their needlethorn.

The point, really, was that she was singing about a green dragonrider, in a green dress, happened to have green eyes, and supposed her luck could only be more tainted by the color if they'd decided to powder her face to match. However, Tari's eyes had been wider than bubbly pies since she'd first seen her friend in costume, and that almost made up for the unfortunate choice in color. On the flipside, she was getting a lot of those reactions, and then the dress suddenly seemed itchy or too tight or she was sweating too much which was followed by her mother fussing more. Ampara wrung her hands, tapping one foot as time slowed to a standstill. She would have rather had to go between again than endure all this waiting, welcoming the deep cold to stave off the roiling hot pit her stomach had become as well as the silence to keep out the rustling, fussing, murmuring, whispering, shouting, and all the rest.

Arai stepped away to take out her own peevish mood on others, finally (thank Faranth), and Tari seized the moment to approach her friend.

"You look so elegant, like a lady holder or a weyrwoman!" Tari was all bright and beaming, and Ampara couldn't bring herself to complain. She would make up for having to wear all of this fine frippery later.

Besides, it would be better to wait until after the performance and then blame the dress for all of her mistakes.

The harper apprentice licked her lips, "I guess my mother must have gotten the idea from all the ones she's acquainted with."

"Are you nervous? Of all people…" Tari crossed her arms, brow furrowing as she appraised her sweaty-palmed friend. "I've seen you take punches while looking bored, and this frightens you?"

"I'm just anxious to get it over with is all. We've only practiced every day and every sevenday since the beginning of time. What is there to be nervous about?" Ampara glanced back at the assembled singers, making sure Valtoren was still in the same spot her eyes had left him in; the same spot as every other time.

"Oh… so you're afraid of him. What happened to all of that unflappable confidence?" Tari's –I told you so- tone wasn't lost on Ampara, and her hand wringing turned to fist clenching.

"I'm not afraid of him, and he'd have to cut out my tongue to stop me from singing anyway."

Her friend's nose wrinkled, "That's gross Ampara. Does that mean you're afraid he'll sound better than you?"

The death glare aimed at Tari was burning into her back even after she had turned 'round and made it part way back to her proper place, but she couldn't quite wipe away her smug smirk. Kindling Ampara's rage generally wasn't a smart idea, but it was a sure cure for any nerves.

Arai had flustered as many people as she could before being forcefully shooed by the conductor, and so she reluctantly returned to her place at the raised table where all the others of high rank were chatting merrily. She would have done the work herself, but she knew Ampara loved nothing better than an "audience" for her antics. Not to mention while tuning and playing and singing came to her as easily as breathing, keeping time for a large group wasn't precisely her forte. She picked at the table cloth, waiting for the performance to start. Of course she had kept an eye on the practices, but there was always the fear that something terrible would happen at the last moment. Ampara being the cause of it too was something to contend with, but Arai had been encouraged by the progress reports of the practices; perhaps there was hope yet that her daughter wasn't entirely incorrigible. Maybe the new regimen had done some good, or maybe this phase, as many people harper and holder alike had reassured her that such things simply passed in time, was in its death throes. Three cheers for the end of the rebellion then.

"You seem ill at ease Master Arai." R'farc had appeared seemingly from nowhere with a glass of wine gripped in his hand, and she noted his already flushed cheeks. If he kept up then he'd find himself losing face more than he already had at the gather.

"Just anxious for the performance to begin."

"Have you thought anymore about our discussion?" He leaned in, she could smell the wine on his breath, speaking softly, and she answered with equal quiet to keep the discussion out of earshot from the merriment of others at the table.

"My answer still stands as it was, and you are mistaken if you think any length of time will change my mind. I am too busy to consider such foolish requests at length, especially any further than they require."

"Hmph, I knew you were going to be difficult I just hadn't imagined how difficult."

"I suppose you haven't talked it over with your weyrwoman either? Not even she would agree with the lengths you are attempting to achieve. If you wish to have good terms with the elite in Pern's society for the remainder of your weyrleadership I think you should drop the matter R'farc and move on to your next farfetched and ill conceived plan to reclaim your glory. May I suggest you begin with finding the eggs that were stolen from under your nose?"

Arai had intentionally added the cruel reminder of his failure as leader. It wasn't wise to provoke anyone, much less a weyrleader no matter the color of his dragon, but she had listened to enough foolishness. It was bad enough she had one troublesome child to deal with, another was asking far too much of her patience even for M'ran's sake. He wanted her to smooth things over between R'farc and Lord Soriskend, but bringing Ampara into the middle of it was entirely out of the question. She had been furious when her firelizard to him had gone unanswered, and she'd been unable to track him down in the meantime no matter whom she had interrogated or how much she had her firelizard spy. There had been too much to do for Arai to make a proper foot search herself, and in the end she was left wringing her hands over the performance and what R'farc might try and do. Some small part of her hoped that M'ran had whisked off to the weyrwoman in hope of exerting control over her fellow lead, but most of her sincerely refused to believe he'd do any such thing. Dragonriders were contrary and unreliable and obviously were too wrapped up in their own concerns to bother with a single harper's troubles.

R'farc's ruddy cheeks darkened a few shades and he scowled, Arai found it more comical than intimidating, and he made excuses to go speak with his wingleaders and perhaps join them in their drinking. She made the mistake of thinking that would be the end of him for the evening, dismissing him from her thoughts as a hush fell over the crowd, singers filing onto the large gather stage that had been set up in the frenzy of hold activity during the days previous to the celebration. The harper master leaned forward, elbows on the table, an untouched glass of wine shunted to the side in favor of imbibing the performance. The pull of a string was all that was required to unmask the glows to chase away the dark of the growing twilight, and a murmur went through the crowd as the singers were scrutinized and appraised.

The conductor cleared his throat, "Hem, hem, hem," tapping his baton against the stand holding the musical score, and then he signaled the beginning with a strong downward hand motion.

It would be difficult for an untrained ear to follow the more delicate counter melodies and unusual harmonies, but Arai was generally a crowd pleaser, something for everyone. It was perhaps premature to be congratulating herself so early into the work, but it was a rush to hear what had first only been ragged scribbles on a spare bit of hide in its final stage. The chorus started low and haunting, the struggling, failing western weyr on its last leg in no shape to stave off thread. Then a reckless acceleration and staccato notes as the green rider took the daring plunge into the past to beg for help when no other weyrs on Pern had dragons to spare, especially a queen egg, operating under strength themselves, everyone scrambling to survive, and then the beginning of tremulous hope was when the choir parted and Ampara stepped forward to deliver the solo.

That, too, had been Arai's idea. A little flair of the dramatic to keep Ampara back out of the eye of the crowd until the moment she began to truly sing. Arai was conducting in small motions, swirling the air above the table just missing her wine glass each time as she followed her daughter's part. The young man, Valtoren, had the argument, working against the tremulous hope before they came together in resolution to step forward. All that was left was to lead the chorus into the bright new dawn, and then there was a fighting chance for the future a final swell and then a sudden cut off.

The hairs on her arms were raised just thinking about it, and she could see by the hush of the crowd and then the thunderous applause she had achieved a masterpiece. People who had been sitting were on their feet, and the air was alive with roaring approval. Even the dragons had picked up on their rider's emotions judging from the deafening cacophony of sound. Arai leaned back and exhaled; since it was done she'd have to find some way to reward Ampara. Together they had outdone the harper master's expectations, and for that she was truly grateful.

Ampara felt as if she'd barely taken breath the entire time, forcing out the little bits of air trapped inside into something that she could barely capture with hearing, too focused on 'living her role' as it were. At the end there was perhaps a split second of silence where she didn't dare inhale, and then the crowd and their roar began to bleed in, crescendoing until her ears were full of white noise. She was too busy laughing and crying to think for a few moments, high on the moment, swept away on the current of success. There was some small part of her, a tiny voice at the back of her mind that thought anything was worth a score of these moments. She could perhaps be tempted to stay behind and bleed for her mastery by submitting to her mother's stringent demands and expectations, and that she could own the hearts of any audience in a way no other person could, perhaps even in a way her mother could not.

Of course, it was easy to be drunk on the applause and acclaim, and as the moment stretched onward that part of her began to wane again. The remembrance of all the fighting and clashing of wills grating on the moment, letting her despair bleed in. She had to run… didn't she? This wasn't really her life; just another piece of her mother's choreography.

Ampara's eyes picked out her mother, standing tall and proud but not lost in the moment like every other holder, crafter, and dragonrider in attendance. She felt the cold certainty creep into her insides that this was only the first of many big pushes; a trap to keep her in until she woke up one morning and scratched away the gold that covered the cold dark metal keeping her in.

Ampara the cry baby… maybe that's all you really are is a baby, a little brat scared of growing up?

No, that wasn't it. The sounds were confusing her, twisting her perception. Ampara felt a cold sweat break out on her brow. It was imperative that she get off stage. She didn't want to drag out the bowing and curtseying, and she began to flee, not quite grasping that her feet were already moving her away from the center of the stage and out of the public eye. Once she was back down on the ground everything would be fine. She'd just be another girl in a dress.

Her headlong flight into the safety and anonymity of the crowd was stymied as she abruptly hit a tall shape that was blocking her path. The crowd was quieting again, and Ampara panicked. She didn't want to make a speech or take another bow, nor did she want to be forced to share the temporary glory with Valtoren.

When she looked up the last thing she expected to see was the weyrleader, maybe her mother or the lord holder for a little congratulatory speech. This wasn't part of the show. It had been very straightforward; take places, wait for lights, wait for cue, count the beats, take some bows, and then run from the stage. This was not something anyone had planned for. There was an excited buzz in the crowd as the seconds ticked by at what seemed like a candlemark at a time for Ampara. What on Pern was happening? She stared up with wide eyes, trying to find meaning in the madness.

R'farc had come to an executive decision to seize the moment while the going was good. He'd picked his way through the crowd once everyone had become enraptured, and while everyone had given raucous approval he'd clambered up on stage and made his way to the heart of this creative enterprise; Ampara, his "long lost" daughter. The world swam a bit before his eyes. A few drinks had done a lot to fortify this idea and his position in his mind. He'd been swallowing gulps of wine on his way up.

Now or never old lad, and hasn't everyone always complimented your quick to action attitude?

Yes, everything was perfect, or it would be once he laid it out for the crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please, your attention!" He called out, not quite realizing his odd actions had already awarded him more than the attention he was asking for, and as the crowd pressed in closer they also prevented the frantic Arai from getting up to the stage to stop R'farc from ruining everything in the most spectacular and public of ways. If she could get up there, and put the right spin on things…if she'd been paying closer attention instead of speaking to the lord holder he wouldn't have made it up there at all.

"Thank you." He earned a quiet laugh as he paused to survey the crowd, and wrap an arm around Ampara, crushing the confused and hapless harper apprentice to his side, preventing any escape though she seemed too surprised to do anything more than stare. Probably in awe, he was the weyrleader after all, and was she in for an even bigger surprise.

"This young woman has dazzled us tonight, wouldn't you agree?" The audience roared, a collective 'yea' for what was certain to be considered one of the top performances of the season, a rousing showcase of the hall's finest young talents.

"Yes, yes. She has a gift, a very special gift, something that could be shared and should be shared with all of Pern!"

Arai's protests were lost in the joyous shouting and foot stomping that R'frac's impromptu speech, and the momentum was gathering to a pitch where even the weyrleader was having trouble making his message heard over the crowd. The lord holder was up on his feet shouting too, but judging by the waving of his arms and the frightened look on his lady's face his attitude was less than convivial. Soriskend was trying to get his personnel or some dragonriders that weren't drunk up on stage to remove that fool before he did something that made his favorite master harper unhappy. He would be flamed if that dimglow ruined the atmosphere of his gather.

R'farc had moved quickly, and the crowd had locked down the area around the stage by sheer bulk. He was going to manage to say something that Arai and Soriskend were going to be extremely displeased with, because there was no way anybody was going to make it through the crowd and stop him before it was too late.

"And I think… I think she ought to start by coming to the weyr. Such talent could be put to great use, and as some know this girl… that this girl is of my own flesh and blood, but now everyone knows that I show no favoritism, because she has proved beyond any doubt that she has skill beyond…"

The weyrleader was forced to pause, because he had stirred the crowd so he could barely hear himself think; not so much, though, that he wasn't pleased with himself for this little announcement he'd decided to make. However, there was one thing that would redirect the crowd's attention no matter what had just been said, and it wasn't an irate lord holder or fuming harper master.

The sudden, looming, dragon-shaped shadow over the crowd elicited both silence and screeching, especially when the bronze swooped low, hide gleaming in the glow light, to allow his rider to jump onto the stage. There were a few whispered words while the dragon departed to find a landing space, and R'farc's face stretched into an even wider grin.

"I apologize to you all; holders, crafters, and riders alike. It seems I am needed to preside over the beginnings of a successful hatching of Xeniath's clutch. Please excuse us, and harpers give us some celebratory music and a round of wine for all on the weyr!" The weyrleader announced, eclipsing his previous statement by unintentionally revisiting the hot topic of weyr controversy, and he was shuffled off stage, presumably reconvening with Noranth to be swiftly conveyed to the weyr.

The harpers, meanwhile, obliged the request, striking up a popular and energetic dance tune while R'farc made haste to get to the weyr before any dragonets started shelling. The earlier uproar among the dragons had been less to do with a successful ballad, and more along the lines of an eminent hatching of eggs. Holders would find that many of the dragons had already disappeared for the evening, only to return once the hatching festivities had wound down which might be longer for some than for others.

Ampara's limbs were frozen as if she'd spent a long turn between, flesh turning to ice and the marrow of her bones a fine filament of snowflakes. It was a surprise that when the bronze rider gripped her by the elbow to guide her off of the stage she simply didn't shatter into a shower of sparkling ice diamonds. Her mind was still working out what to do with what he had said. Was it a joke? A trick? A fancy of her wild imagination? A dream? Stiff, halting steps carried her off the stage down to ground level where she remembered to take a long shuddering breath, wishing to rid herself of the sick knot in her stomach. Flesh and blood… It echoed in her mind like the tolling of a bell that wouldn't stop clanging.

"So the weyr, huh? Sounds so exciting!" Ampara blinked, and she just barely registered the excited, girlish squealing of a throng of some of the hold's finest daughters (or most finely dressed anyway).

The bronze rider, still at her side though ignored in her mental frenzy, cleared his throat to speak, but the giddy grating of shrill, uppity girls was enough to snap the harper lass back to her senses. That sort of irritation could not be ignored.

"Just wishful thinking and I haven't even attained my journeyman rank yet. We're already starting rehearsals for the next performance. Maybe when I'm older, but it would be much too difficult to abandon my studies right now, walking the tables could be very close and I just couldn't let my concentration waver so. I could set myself back a whole turn…" She cut in before he could articulate an alternate explanation, thinking on her feet, and, fortunately, her face was already quite warm so she didn't have to pretend to blush as if she was truly embarrassed to have to decline.

"The masters you know… they're very serious about being well-rounded before attempting to strike out on your own. They wouldn't dream of setting their pupils off on the wrong track." Ampara widened her eyes, trying to make herself seem enraptured by the wisdom of her elders. What tripe.

"And is R'farc… is he really your father?" Perhaps it was Ampara's senses playing tricks on her, but the girl asking seemed to have an over large nose perfect for sticking into the business of others… maybe she was an acquaintance of dear cousin Matíne.

She giggled, drawing on the surrealistic quality of her evening for some genuine merriment at her ridiculous predicament.

"He misspoke was all," Ampara covered her mouth to feign abashment at a creeping grin, "He was into the wine I think," she dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper which suggested secrecy even though she knew the gossip would spread faster than a thread infestation, "but no, he's certainly not, I think I moved him so much that he was simply expressing a fondness and muddled his words."

The harper apprentice covered her heart, and barked a short laugh for added effect, hoping to appear touched yet the tiniest bit contemptuous at the same time.

It was mere seconds before their backs were retreating into the crowd to relate the juicy bit of gossip that the weyrleader was truly a drunk ninny, just as they had always surmised, and that though well-meaning it would be better to have a proper journeyman go to the weyr as taking students out of the learning environment was simply absurd. If there was one thing that came natural to her as a harper, besides the singing part, it was the lying through her teeth to achieve a desired goal bit. In this case, she wanted the spectacle to be forgotten as quickly as possible. Let them go on about dragon eggs, and forget that Harper Ampara might or might not be of dubious origins. Besides… there was no way she could run away if she didn't craft herself back into an anonymous entity. Everyone's eyes would be seeking her out in the crowd just to pester her.

"Good cover. I would have just left it at 'he's a drunken fool', but your details will really make the rumor sparkle. By tomorrow you'll be the side act to the drunken and incompetent man who was already dimglow enough to lose dragon eggs. I would applaud you, but I'm not sure if it's good to condone such duplicity in someone your age."

Ampara started, having forgotten her dragonrider companion once again, she looked at her feet, thinking she needed to apologize for being rude by at least thanking him for getting her off that stage when she needed a kick to get her started. She turned her head, and jumped away from him, reclaiming her arm as if she had been burnt.

"You." Ampara narrowed her gaze, finding herself standing next to none other than the young man that she'd run into at the field earlier. She'd missed her prediction by a mark or two; a bronze rider. It perfectly explained the arrogance. Why had he been so coy earlier? Yet that had been quite the candid remark about his weyrleader.

"Who are you? And…" There were so many questions bubbling to the surface she couldn't utter as her curiosity frothed over.

Her features suddenly darkened, mouth frowning and lips tightening down into a thin line, turning her face into a fearsome scowl. "And what do you mean someone my age? I'm not some 'brat. Besides I'm sure you know as a bronze rider that harpers aren't just for pretty singing voices."

The dragonrider's cheek twitched. It was better for both of them that he kept his almost smile under a tight lid.

"I apologize." He bent his back in a gentle bow, and offered his arm to her.

Ampara studied him, and decided after a moment of intense scrutiny that she could bear his company for a bit longer if at least to get a few answers. She looped her arm with his, and allowed him to lead her into the dancing. No matter what happened she didn't want to be found by her mother or the lord holder or anyone of consequence, blending in with the other dancers worked entirely to her advantage. She hoped the scrambling departure of the dragonriders would be a distraction enough so she'd be forgotten about. Soriskend would be relieved to have him gone and probably spend the rest of the evening recounting that he'd always known the man was a complete dimglow. The harper apprentice did not savor the coming exchange of words with her mother.

"I'm sorry about R'farc for what it's worth, but I think something your mother said sent him over the edge." He nodded his head, and Ampara saw a brief flash of her mother through the swirling dresses, and a moment later she was out of sight as the dancers twirled and reformed time and time again.

Ampara stood on a precipice. Flesh and blood… The words made her blood run cold, and as she stared up at him on that stage when he uttered those words, something inside her just knew. Earlier in the day she had dismissed him entirely as something that wasn't a part of her world, but those eyes… the color. No one on her mother's side had eyes like that. Of course, it could have been a coincidence, and perhaps the circumstances were something like what she had just lied about. The feeling was lurking, nagging her in the gut, however, that she was standing on a truth she'd never really paused to consider.

It might seem strange that Ampara would never question her parentage beyond her mother, but it was hardly unusual for children to be unfamiliar with both parents in a society that promoted fostering. She had had always operated under the basic presumption that her father was some sort of harper her mother had been indiscrete with and after some sort of falling out they'd come to the Western Continent; hurt pride and all of that. That was the type of gossip that got bandied around the dormitories by apprentices and journeyman ranks no matter if you could provide five generations of proof towards your lineage. Those were harpers to Ampara though, making stories because the truth was too boring one way or the other. Her mother had never placed any importance on a father figure, and she'd never really considered it a necessity to dig around for an answer. The explanation had been, seemingly, so basic and obvious that it hadn't been of any sort of curiosity to her. Ampara had attributed her mother's reluctance to speak about it to a number of theories, but none worth having one of their famous shows of fury over. She'd been too busy planning the next terror for her cousin or trying to skip classes or any number of the bad to worse things she'd done at her time at the hall.

"So quiet, usually if I dance with someone who isn't weyrbred I get a few hundred questions and about a second to answer each of them."

"Well… I'd hate to be duplicitous and feign interest." She managed a small half-smile, but couldn't shake off her preoccupation.

"Ha. Are you naturally this blunt or have I done something wrong?" His smile came easily, and she wondered if he was trying to distract her from the question she was weighing whether or not to ask. Did he even have the answer?

"For starters you could tell me who you really are. It's impolite to try and pull the wool over a harper's eyes."

"I could tell you that it's incredibly impolite that you haven't thanked me yet for helping you out and withhold the information as a consequence," a teasing twinkle came into his blue eyes, something reminiscent of her uncle, "but, fortunately for you, dragonriders are bound by honor and duty and so on and so forth."

"Mmmhmm, and?"

"And, you wouldn't believe me if I told you." He twirled her then, and she was afraid that he'd let go and disappear and she wouldn't be any further with him or that question that was still burning at the back of her mind.

However, the bronze rider reeled her back in, and Ampara was alarmed when she ended up in his arms. They had been maintaining a polite distance, but in her distracted state she'd been casual, not holding herself completely aloof as she might have otherwise. She looked up into his eyes, lips slightly parted, as she fumbled for something smart to say; a cold turn of phrase that would make him want to back off. As it turned out, their camouflage had only been effective for so long. She blamed the sharding green dress.

"K'osir!"

Arai had found them, and she had a murderous look on her face. Ampara cursed under her breath, earning a bemused look from… K'osir?

"No way, you can't be," the harper apprenticed hissed at him, wishing that he'd lead them back into the crowd before her mother completed her trajectory and they were both at her mercy.

He shrugged, his smirk holding an inherent 'I told you so,' that caused Ampara to frown.

"Aren't important people supposed to be older, wiser, and ruggedly handsome?"

"What's wrong with being important, young, witty, and dashingly handsome?"

"Who said you were handsome at all?" Ampara retorted, succeeding just barely at keeping a serious face.

"Harsh. And brave words to the man who could have been weyrleader."

"Apologies wingleader K'osir, former consort of the onetime Junior Weyrwoman Iuliana, but if my mother yells at someone like he or she is an errant weyrbrat I don't fear giving him or her the same lip I give the dear 'ole harper master on most occasions."

"Well two things before she beheads me and sends my remains as a warning to the illustrious aforementioned weyrwoman."

K'osir leaned in close, speaking directly in Ampara's ear to be heard clearly so as not to be misunderstood.

"One, R'farc was telling the truth, but I wouldn't be too worried about your sire. You defused the situation, and even those who know it to be the truth or take it as the truth will realize that you are the boring side note in his lackluster reign as weyrleader. There are plenty of bronze riders that are so keen to replace him that what happened once isn't going to happen a second time." He moved his head away from her ear, thinking it was better she knew the truth before she confronted Arai even if the woman wanted to deny it.

"And two?"

"Secondly…" Ampara could feel his breath on her cheek. He was so close… she was rarely this close with any one person. Even at her angriest she rarely got right up close and personal with her own mother.

"K'osir!" The moment dissolved when her mother yanked her and the dragonrider apart. Despite the look of pure rage on Arai's face, the one usually reserved Ampara at her most rotten, she must have been running on some innate sense of propriety, because instead of laying hands on the dragonrider it was Ampara who was dragged out of his grasp and shoved to the side.

A soft curse, "Shards," was all he managed before he was facing the intimidating harper master, leaving the apprentice wondering what else he had wanted to say. They'd used up the precious few moments they had left.

"Wait, it wasn't his fault, don't take it out on him." The harper lass stepped in between her mother and the object of her rage. She could show her gratitude by getting her mother to shout at her instead.

"Ampara this isn't the time to be stubborn." Arai snapped, trying to pull her daughter back out of the way, but the girl's feet were firmly planted this time.

"Well, the way I hear it this wouldn't have happened if you hadn't gotten him riled up." Obviously, she would counter by being as obstinate as possible.

"I've had enough of interfering dragonriders." The snarl in the tone was cold and as fierce as any wild feline, and the harper master's eyes zeroed in just as coolly on her intended prey.

"I've had enough of you barging into my evening. I swear by Faranth that I will stand here and start screaming threadfall if you don't leave us alone right now."

They were already attracting some odd glances, and she knew that her mother wouldn't want another scene with everything that had just happened. Ampara and Arai stared each other down; anyone stepping between them ran the risk of bursting into flame. Each stood and weighed the consequences of the other relenting and/or making good on said threat. The harper master seemed for a brief moment as if the tautness in her posture was going to give way in a screaming fit of her own, causing Ampara to begin to open her mouth to howl just as ferociously in response. It ended when Arai spun around and promptly marched off. Ampara zipped her lip, shoulders sagging wearily. She wondered if this was how her mother tended to feel the previous times they'd reached such an impasse.

"Now what was it that you-?" But K'osir had slipped away.

She was a bit hurt though not entirely surprised. After all, she was just an apprentice, and he was simply doing his duty and looking after the weyr's problem, but he could have at least said good-bye.

Ampara maneuvered carefully through the crowd, repeating what she'd said before if anyone bothered to try and inquire after what happened on stage. She mostly tried to avoid human contact, slipping away from the dancers through the wallflowers on the sidelines. It was easy to hurry through the gather stalls, there wasn't much business going on as everyone was dancing, and reach her quarters in the hold. She and Tari were sharing of course, but the place would be deserted for a while yet, making getting out of her dress easier said than done; however, she wanted it off and neatly placed in her mother's room so there would be no chances and no excuses for talking. All Ampara wanted were comfortable clothes, and to lie down and think, everything was still spinning.

It was easy to decide that she didn't care about R'farc. He was worse than useless, and his offer was simply something to set off her mother. If she hadn't been planning on going away she might have reveled in the opportunities for chaos; a dozen different and progressively sordid details for the masses instead of covering for herself and Arai. Ampara didn't really see why it was so much of a big deal, except knowing her mother's dislike maybe she thought her daughter would get the notion to run off to the dragons. Meeting dragonriders, maybe solving their egg problems, had been part of her ideas of adventure, but running to the weyr had never been on the table. They would return her to the hold since they got on so well with the harpers, and she didn't see impression as an escape either. Sure everyone whispered about how it was an experience that no number of words could describe, but then you were stuck there. It was at best a temporary freedom while thread fell, maybe during a pass it would be worth it. She wanted to do what she pleased when she pleased to do it, being her own master was the best solution.

Ampara rolled over, facing the stone wall and its window inset, thinking that maybe she'd just leave that night. Now that her mother had more embarrassment than she could handle to deal with she'd be even less likely to notice the absence of her daughter, and Ampara felt so tired of playing by everyone else's rules.