Disclaimer: I own nothing of Anne McCafferey's .

Life as We Know It

Quira felt exhausted. The last 24 hours was a blur – Impression was still foremost in her mind though. She would never forget looking into Zenith's perfect eyes or the feel of her surprisingly soft, textured skin next to hers.

Suddenly having another person always in your mind, always sharing your thoughts, is definitely overwhelming though, Quira thought.

I bother you? Zenith questioned blinking open one eye sleepily.

"I just need time to get used to it but it's a huge comfort to know you're only a thought away, Dearheart."

The Weyrling master was calling for everyone to form up. Quira dragged herself out of bed, glancing up as Zenith stretched on her stone bunk above. Glittering and golden, she was much larger already than her brothers and sisters, almost the size of a runnerbeast where her siblings were about the size of large dogs.

Quira and Zenith were about to start a routine that would rarely vary for the next year: wake, eat, bathe/oil Zenith, classes for Quira while Zenith slept off her meal, eat, more class (and sleep) and then a couple blissful hours in the evening for just the two of them before Zenith was oiled for the umpteenth time just before bed.

As time went on, Quira and Zenith made new friends and these were sometimes invited to spend time with them in the evenings. They especially became close to the young stubby boy, I'len, and his bronze, Tagath. It still surprised Quira that he had Impressed a bronze. He was just so young – couldn't have been older than ten – and regrettably short. He had since proved himself more than equal to the task of caring for his massive life partner and more able than not a few of his fellow weyrlings.

A year later found Zenith a glorious visage as she took off from her junior queen's weyr and soared gracefully down to the feeding grounds. Quira never could quite stomach the sight of her life partner hunting . Nothing in the world would've made her approach a dead wherry, let alone attempt to butcher one, except for Zenith's pitiful creels of hunger. Thank heaven that's over, she thought.

Don't look, Zenith said as she folded her wings and pounced neatly on a large male wherry. Quira grimaced as she heard the faint death shriek, even from the back of the weyr. She could feel the satisfaction Zenith felt as she fed though, and that made her smile. Quira stretched and rolled out of her sleeping furs, ready to start another day under the tutelage of the head weyrwoman. Lessa. That name made her smile falter. She tried to be nice to her, she really did, but it seemed like Lessa just wrote her off. Quira was used to being ignored, but she felt like she had to constantly prove that she was worthy to be a queen rider, worthy of Zenith!

Nothing could make you unworthy, Zenith said, We will be together always.

Always the optimist, Quira thought fondly. She sighed in resignation, Might as well get ready. Lifting the flap that covered the food delivery tunnel, she called down for some klah and fruit. She quickly combed her brown hair, stopping to marvel at how long it had grown in the year since she'd first arrived. She's been forced to keep it short as a drudge, which was unusual. The other drudges hadn't bothered about their hair, but she'd always supposed it had been her father's way of further tormenting her. Her brothers had always said that her mother viewed hair as a great beauty, an adornment to care for and be proud of. Quira missed them so. Especially Rangel, her oldest brother. He'd been so protective of her. When he died in the fire trying to get everyone out, she'd been devastated. She finished tucking her pants into her soft wherhide boots and heard the tray rattle up the tunnel.

Zenith peered into the little back room where Quira was eating. You must hurry, she thought with a twinge of anxiety, we must not be late. Ramoth is displeased that we are not there yet.

Quira swallowed, took one last swig of klah and sent the tray rattling back to its origins. She ran out to the ledge and continued up the side of the canyon to Lessa and Ramoth's weyr just a few weyrs further up. A few weyrs meant a few wingbeats for Zenith, but several minutes climb at a jog for Quira. Zenith had already landed and was gazing down the walkway for Quira by the time she got to the top. She was only slightly out of breath, too – a testament to how often they cut it close

"Quira?" Lessa called from the storeroom. Zenith nudged her to the storeroom where her lesson was taking place today and then settled in next to Ramoth.

"I'm here, weyrwoman," Quira responded meekly as she entered the room. There were other junior weyrwomen, but none that hadn't had this lesson yet, so it was just Lessa and Quira today.

"You cut it close again." Lessa's face was unreadable and Quira fought the urge to look at her feet.

"Yes ma'am," she said instead and met her gaze, waiting for Lessa's response.

She sighed and indicated the stool next to her. Quira quickly took her seat and glanced at the hides in front of them.

Well, that wasn't so bad, Quira thought happily as she raced Zenith back to their weyr. Zenith always won, but Quira never minded. The lesson had gone really well, with Lessa being uncharacteristically patient as she taught Quira about keeping the records of the weyr. Food, clothing, special requests all came through the weyrwoman. Quira didn't realize what a big responsibility being the weyrwoman was. As the most junior of the junior weyrwomen, though, she didn't really worry about it.

I'll never need to worry about that, but I'm glad I know it now. It seems like it would have its own rhythm if you did it long enough and that would help. Quira loved music – if she hadn't Impressed, she probably would've gone to apprentice with the harper guild. She could find the rhythm of life in anything and she loved the routines and experience of high-energy Benden Weyr. So many people going about their lives and so many things to see – and just wait til she could see it from dragonback! Lessa had told her that she and Zenith could start flying lessons once she had made her own flying straps. The harness for Zenith was already under construction, having been commissioned by Lessa a couple months previously in expectation. Quira was to report the leatherworking shop after the next shipment of goods arrived in a couple days. She wondered if that would be a good idea. It was likely to be a busy rush if she went the day of, but she didn't want to delay her and Zenith's flight lessons to avoid a crowd…

"I'm going to run down to the leatherworker's shop," Quira called as Zenith settled into her hollow.

Ok… Zenith said sleepily. Quira paused to look lovingly on her best friend and then dashed down to the floor of the weyr. The leatherworkers were on the other side of the weyr, so she broke into a steady jog to cover the distance quickly.

An enormous shadow blotted out the sun and she nearly stumbled as a massive bronze landed near her.

"Quira!" It was I'len and now Tagath was whuffing gently in her face. She patted his nose and he leapt into the air again, heading for the feeding grounds.

"Hi I'len, how's Tagath doing?" Quira said with a smile for her friend. Only the queens had to wait a full year (and sometimes longer) to start flight training. I'len and Tagath had been flying together for a few weeks now and were proving themselves quite the pair.

"He's amazing, as usual. Of course, I do nothing, just cling to his neck like a tick," I'len responded, dusting his riding pants with his wherhide gloves. "We went between for the first time today!"

That experience Quira did NOT envy I'len.

"Congratulations!" she said with a grin and a high-five. "Zenith and I start flying in a couple weeks – as soon as I make my flying straps."

"Awesome! Are you heading to the leatherworkers now? Can I come with you? Tagath is hungry enough to eat at least ten wherries," I'len said jokingly.

"Sure," Quira said. He'd had to remake his flying straps twice over before F'lar, the weyrleader, would approve them for use. Maybe he'd have some useful suggestions.

As they entered the leatherworker's shop, an apprentice pointed out a corner where three other weyrlings were already practicing making flying straps on spare leather bits.

Quira made a face. "Good thing I came early," she said, picking up a strip of tough rawhide and sitting next to a tall, lanky boy. "Hi Y'lan, how is Neketh doing?" The shy blue rider glanced up at her through his shaggy brown hair and gave a polite response. She sighed inside. It seems like green and blue riders just couldn't shake whatever barrier they'd placed between brown, bronze and gold riders – no friendly overtures or outright disdain, just very polite reponse.

I'len gave her some pointers as she started to soften the tough leather into more malleable and manageable form and then started talking about his first flying lesson: what Tagath did, mostly, and what the weyrling master faulted him for in form.

"Who needs form anyway?" he was saying, "you're on a dragon! Nobody is going to be looking at you, I guarantee it!" Quira grinned as she chewed her leather strip to soften it.

After working on softening leather for two hours, Zenith started to stir. Quira seized the opportunity and reached out with her mind, Any itchy spots? Need some oil?

She could feel Zenith's drowsiness as she responded, No, I am fine. Enjoy talking.

Are you sure? Not one itchy spot?

Zenith was amused, I suppose there is a spot on my shoulder, she conceded.

You poor dear! I'll be right there, Quira said in a grateful rush and rose to leave.

"Giving up so soon?" I'len asked with a grin.

"Zenith is itchy and needs to be oiled," Quira said, edging towards the entrance.

"Riiiight," I'len said with a wink and a grin, "Itchy."

Quira rolled her eyes and waved goodbye. A little while later, she strode into her weyr with a sigh. It had been a long morning and the day wasn't even over yet.

Zenith looked pleased with herself as Quira grabbed the oil and a rag. She loved being oiled and Quira loved getting into the rhythm of oiling. The weyrling master often commented on how radiant Zenith's skin looked and how few flaky patches he'd seen.

It took her several hours to oil Zenith – what with the frequent breaks and naps they took it was close to the evening meal when she finished. Zenith spread her wings to catch the rest of the dying sunset before she soared over to the feeding grounds. Quira gave her strict admonitions to keep herself neat and headed down to the eating room for her dinner.

I'len sat with some of his bronze rider buddies, but gave a friendly wave when she came through the door. It was Brekke and F'nor, though, that motioned her to join their table.

"How is Zenith doing?" F'nor asked, digging into his roasted wherry.

"She's doing well, thank you," replied Quira cordially. A servingman put a plate of food in front of her and filled her glass with fresh water from the cave springs. Quira was determined to enjoy her roasted wherry without thoughts of Zenith's preferred meals.

"We saw her take off a few minutes ago – she's positively glowing," Brekke said with a wistful smile. Quira had since heard her story and had learned to be the epitome of tact around Brekke.

"Thank you," Quira said, and turned the talk to other things. At the end of the evening, she stole back into her weyr and snuggled up between Zenith's front legs. The sleepy dragon cracked open a large, whirling blue eye and rumbled.

I love you, Quira said, snuggling against Zenith's leg.

I love you, too, Zenith said. She lifted her head and delicately removed a sleeping fur from Quira's nearby bed. Quira grinned as she took the proffered fur and wrapped it around herself. Thoughts of flying, dipping and soaring whirled in her mind as she drifted off to sleep.

Nobody saw the next day coming…