Yarrow stood silent, watching the two men watch one another. What to do, she wondered – if anything?
The moment was broken open again by the arrival of a brownrider, who was bounding up the stone stairs two at a time. His silvery-black hair was disheveled, and he himself breathed heavily; she could see it in his face. "What's doing?" he asked, cheerfully. "I can't blame you folk wanting to be out of the crowds – ah, greetings Holder Brevis." He bowed, recognizing the handsome man at last. "And who is this with you?"
Brevis returned the greeting. "This is my young lord Mink and Lady Yarrow, of Southern," he said.
At mention of her name, Yarrow saw the dragonrider's eyebrow go up just a hair – and then his face went blankly cheerful again. She noted that the other two hadn't seen it. B'nick? Does every dragonrider on Pern know something about me? She sent and felt a chuckle.
I am F'lessan, rider of Golanth, the rider sent to her. He grinned. Afraid I don't know sign language, but I've been told you hear us? And by "us" he clearly meant dragons, because she could sense a distant rumble as well.
Yarrow blinked, coloring. F'lessan had said it like she was supposed to know him – but for the life of her, she didn't. Harper Hall taught the regulation Harper teaching ballads, certainly, but Yarrow herself had had a difficult time with them due to her disability. She'd had to sit close to the Harper (which wasn't always possible). The rest of her learning she'd gotten from her parents when they had the time to do so, and even old Undabran down at Southern hadn't been able to make what he taught stick. More to the point, the folk at that hold hadn't been too inclined for there even to be need for Harper learnings.
So, she just nodded. Hello, Dragonrider – and Dragon, she sent back. Then she saw hold colorings on him – ones she didn't know at all either.
At this point Brevis jumped in. "Dragonrider F'lessan is the rider/holder at Honshu, it's in the north," he signed to her, as he said it aloud.
Mink was just staring during the entire conversation. "Honshu? My da said the area's uninhabitable!" he finally exclaimed.
Flessan burst out laughing. Gray eyes sparkled merrily at her. "No, it isn't. You might find it so, but dragons and their riders tend to like different kinds of habitation than regular people!" He looked over at Yarrow. "My pardon, can you read lips?"
She nodded. I can, so don't worry about it, she sent to the handsome man. It was clear he'd seen some hard times; there was a very slight limp. But he didn't seem too concerned – with that or anything, actually.
"I think we'd best be going," she signed to Mink, who frowned, but he had no good reason for staying up there, she knew, with relief. Yarrow smiled at Brevis, nodded to him and headed down the stairs again. She did her best to ignore the chuckles she was sensing from the couple dragons she knew.
The people at Southern were half in the weyr, Yarrow found. She didn't see Hannin but Petia found her fairly soon after her own arrival. "There you are!" the woman scowled at her. It was fairly plain that the Lady of Southern hadn't expected or even wanted Yarrow to survive the disaster. Petia herself was very dusty and dirty, her hair all dishveled, and the blanket she'd thrown about her clearly wasn't covering her entirely. Her expression grew even more snarly as she looked Yarrow up and down and found the girl fully dressed. "And what were you doing out of bed at this hour? Keeping a tryst, no doubt! I told you to stay away from that cousin of ours, you harlot!" Yarrow knew she'd have slapped her if they'd been alone.
But here – for once, you can't touch me, and it's killing you, she thought, her own lip curling. Irony, that's what it was. "Greetings, Lady Holder, " she signed, ignoring the comment. "I was taking a walk when this terrible disaster occurred. It's a good thing some dragonriders were doing a sweep of the area, isn't it?"
A walk. I wish it was just a walk, she thought, like a regular person could do – in a regular Hold.
Petia's scowl deepened, probably made worse by her own knowledge she could do nothing. She was like that; she held grudges.
B'nick? How bad is the damage? She sent, as she walked away from the Lady of Southern. Yarrow could feel the woman's eyes boring into the back of her head. she's currently gushing at F'lessan, B'nick sent amusedly. Typical, sent Yarrow. But how bad is the damage?
It was apparently bad. He didn't say much other than that in reply; he sounded hurried. She wandered around, trying to find some way to make herself useful.
Yarrow found the kitchens of the weyr filled, but she signaled to the lady who seemed in charge there that she'd like to help. The woman only gave Yarrow a bit of a double-take when she saw Yarrow couldn't speak, before she set her to preparing klah. Tointel came in and sat on a ledge nearby, watching her protectively, with a lot of pictures of people running around in other parts of the large compound, and dragons – lots of dragons. She had to laugh; neither of them had seen more than one dragon at a time, ever, not even back at Harper Hall.
Someone tapped her on the shoulder after awhile, just as her back was starting to get sore from grinding. Yarrow looked up briefly and squeaked excitement, throwing her arms around B'nick. You're here! You're here! She sent, unable to conceal tears.
The greenrider squeezed her tight. So I am – are you all right? He sent worriedly, a sentiment echoed by his dragon. F'lik didn't mention you'd been injured...
She pulled away a little, wiping her nose on her sleeve. No, no – I'm just – tired, it's a lot to handle, she dissembled. I don't even know where we are, and Petia's here, and Mink is – I hope he's staying out of trouble, but...
Yes, we know she's at the weyr. This is Southern Weyr, he sent Yarrow dryly, not that you'd have been told much about it. We know Hannin never even took petitions at the few Gathers he ever held. I'd have you meet K'van and Adrea, your Weyrleaders, but they're both busy with an emergency meeting just now. He sat down next to her. Someone immediately came up to him with some klah, and whisked away the grindings Yarrow had worked on, spending a few minutes saying something too rapid for Yarrow to read her lips. This is Darba, in charge of the Weyr proper here, he sent to Yarrow. And she says sit for a little and eat something; you've worked your tailbone off, apparently! With that, Yarrow found a cup being forced into her hands and a couple rolls put down before her, by a stout woman who waved off her own bow in greeting and thanks. She barely noticed the departure of her friend, she was so hungry and tired.
It was only later on, after Yarrow'd been working in the kitchens for several more hours, that she realized neither B'nick nor Petia had mentioned Hannin being at the weyr with them.