Genny did her best to integrate seamlessly into her otherwise all-male Weyrling class. She opted for an honorific contraction like her fellow riders, becoming known as G'ny. She figured it would make her stand out less and would be expedient later on during time sensitive drills. Lawana, with a trick for everything up her sleeve, suggested a large, thin fur draped across the opening of her alcove to salvage her Holder-bred modesty, although she was careful to minimize its use and the seclusion it afforded in order to stay connected with her compatriots. Instead, she often just elected to put off her changing until she was in the bathing room the women of the Lower Cavern shared.
Still, she felt the judging hostility from three boys who particularly disdained the presence of a female dragonrider. At the head of this group was one of the clutch's two brownriders, a curly haired boy named R'nan. He was Weyrbred and had embraced patriarchal hierarchy he observed; his slightly above average sized dragon, Branth, only emphasized his cockiness. Given their similar vitriol, G'ny faintly preferred R'nan's condescension to Allika's. If R'nan had perhaps Impressed a bronze, G'ny could only imagine treacherous pair the two of them would make. Even so, G'ny would not be surprised if they found intimacy in each other's company.
Almost a fortnight had passed by the time Genny and the other Weyrlings began falling into a steady routine. The days were exhausting. The dragonets had almost as many demands as there were minutes in the day, their life pairs were updated without fail about constant itches and appetites. The Weyrlingmaster, T'mir, the older bluerider who had been on the Search that turned up G'ny, taught them to gently set the expectations of their dragonets. This established a mental discipline for dragon and rider to share in. It also allowed him periods uninterrupted by all but the most pressing dragonet demands to educate the Weyrling class on how to care for their dragons and of the histories and traditions of the High Reaches Weyr.
Suddenly the Teaching Ballads the Genny once sang as she roamed the Hold fields or hummed as she tended her chores took on new significance. The more upbeat, dragon-inspired compositions had always been her favorites, but they had been frowned upon by her mother, and she had instead been directed to more Hold-minded works such as the Duty Song. G'ny's labors in the Hold hardly prepared her hands for the frequent clutching and pressing of oiling rags and brushes to her partner. No matter how much she dedicated herself to even coatings when she scrubbed and oiled Saleneth's hide, it always looked a little splotchy, a patchwork of hues instead of a single, glowing green. Especially around her left eye, there was a patch that was almost golden compared to the emerald tips of the eye and ear ridges above it. Although this in no way surprised G'ny, given the freckles that dotted her own unique complexion, T'mir assured her that some dragonets just take time to grow into their complexions, and that she was a beautiful specimen nonetheless. On top of tiring and drying out their fingers, G'ny and the other Weyrlings endured workout trainings to hone the rest of their bodies for the physical demands of dragonriding. She took it like the best of them.
The initial taunts from some of the boys, spearheaded by R'nan, about her physical ability to "keep up" quickly subsided. G'ny routinely finished first, ahead of all of the boys, in their daily laps around the Bowl. At worst, she might come in third place on "bad" days. R'nan, with his larger, stockier frame tended to finish more towards the middle or end of the pack. Although he could do more pushups and lift heavier bags of firestone, a simple "let's settle this with a quick race to [a near landmark]" generally shut him up. Beyond that, she did her best to steer clear of the boy.
G'ny often envied the younger counterpart of her life-bond. Saleneth got to enjoy the perks of being a newborn – food at her beck and call, a dedicated scratcher for hard to reach spots, and sleep whenever she pleased – which constituted the better part of the day. Like her fellow clutchmates, Saleneth spent her napping hours in the prime, but ground-accessible, sunny spots under the lazy eyes of other dragons sunning higher above. Meanwhile, G'ny and the Weyrlings were assigned tasks during these moments of otherwise respite. It's not so much that she minded the work, but G'ny would have much preferred to spend the afternoons admiring or at least snuggling up next to her green. Even though they would have lifetime together, every moment she spent away from Saleneth felt lacking.
G'ny suspected a bit of partiality on T'mir's part in assigning chores. Often, G'ny found herself slated to help out in the Lower Caverns, in which she found herself in more feminine company. Lawana in particular took her under her wing, requiring her company on rounds throughout the halls to turn glows, ferry supplies, and prep meals, all familiar occupations from G'ny's Holder days. Perhaps she would go back once the initial training was over. Many dragonriders picked up Crafts during Interval, but most stayed in a Weyr, which was designed to house their dragons. G'ny could hardly imagine Saleneth staying long at Radharc. Stables were no place for such a graceful creature, and there is no way her mother would let her inside the Hold. Perhaps G'ny could move to a room adjacent to one of the sturdy rooftops... Ah well, that was all a long way off, even if portioning out klah into pots while its fragrant steam swirled around her sent her mind back.
"And what are we lost in thought about now?" Lawana asked? Highly intuitive, Lawana often prompted her to speak what was on her mind. G'ny wasn't sure if Lawana's kindness was a ruse for being T'tor's eyes and ears or if this was on her own accord. G'ny appreciated the growing friendship either way. The woman had a knack for knowing everything and anything that was going on in the Weyr and had countless stories to tell. G'ny's favorites were stories about the older riders she so admired from when they were mere Weyrlings like herself.
"Just thinking of home, and whether I'll ever go back."
"Just think, in a Turn's time you'll have instant transport back there whenever you want." Lawana suggested, ever cheerful. She saw the roll of G'ny's eyes. "I know what you mean. It's a question bigger than if you'll ever visit. It's a common worry when Holder born Weyrlings first join us. Follow your heart to where you belong. I imagine the Hold was all you had ever known until it grew and encompassed Saleneth."
"I can't help but feel like I am letting them all down. I practically ran that place. Ma even relented her suggestions that I marry well she was so proud of me."
"She must still be. Look at you now. I would certainly give you a glowing recommendation. As long as you don't forget to take those bubbly pies out of the oven on time!" Lawana sent her scampering away from her troubled musings.
G'ny appreciated the friendship that was growing with Lawana and never dreaded being assigned "women's work," as the boys so often derided it so frequently. Some of them, the other green riders especially, tolerated it better than others when their own rotations came up, and most learned a greater appreciation for the hard work of the Lower Cavern staff that would carry on for their stay at the Weyr. Still, G'ny made it onto the slate for the least preferable, and much fouler smelling task, mucking out the wallows in the Weyrling barracks, often enough to distract from the amount of time she spent in the Lower Caverns.
One morning, G'ny was on one such rotation with R'nan and his two most loyal followers. They each started at separate points in the barracks, and G'ny made a point of choosing that farthest from R'nan. Between the four of them, they would each take three wallows and split the odd one out as time allowed. She had just finished her third and was headed over the final, shared one, when hands grabbed her from behind and a strip of leather was forced into her mouth.
"Let's see how quick you are when you're tied up where no one can find you." She heard R'nan's voice hiss in her ear. G'ny writhed as the three boys lifted her off her feet and started dragging her towards one of the unoccupied alcoves at the far end of the Weyrling barracks.
A sudden flash of greens and glowing reds, accompanied by a series of shrill screams and hisses, filled the room as Saleneth suddenly appeared in front of the marauding group, lunging towards the boys. G'ny fell hard on her bottom as the boys frantically tried to disperse from the path of the protective green. In her flurry, one of Saleneth's wingtips clipped R'nan hard on the jaw and she scratched one of the other boys on the leg. She doubled back around, herding the errant youths into one of the alcoves, wings outstretched, barring their escape. HOW DARE YOU. YOU WILL NOT DO THIS AGAIN. G'ny heard Saleneth's outrage thunder in her mind, and the boys must have heard it too. Tears started streaking down the face of each boy – even that of the bluerider who had managed to avoid physical contact with G'ny's unexpected protector. Outside, the keening of three small dragons could be heard, with deeper roars joining in the fray.
What are you doing here? How? You were outside, sleeping and sunning yourself a minute ago. G'ny inquired in shock.
You were in trouble. I needed to be where you were. I saw through your eyes for where you were, and... leaped. Saleneth had just nonchalantly described the process of going between, which she was not supposed to even attempt for another thirty sevendays, far after she mastered flying, G'ny realized. Oh, and I called for reinforcements.
The tamping of four pairs of boots announced the arrival of the Weyrleader and his Wingleaders. "What is the meaning of this?" T'tor exclaimed. C'lin, sizing up the situation and with M'tou close behind him, hurried over to the spot of G'ny's rather undignified landing. The young men freed her from the bonds that the boys had started securing around her arms and helped her to her feet. L'can stood at T'tor's right hand side ready to interrogate the boys and prevent their escape. T'tor's eyes unfocused slightly as his dragon filled him in on the details withheld by the mute, sobbing boys.
Saleneth backed down, her eyes subsiding to a weary yellow, and hurried over to check on her mate. You are okay? She inquired.
Yes dear, just a little shaken, and I might have a bit of a sore behind for a few days. G'ny reassured her, lowering down to her knee to throw her arms around the little green's neck.
After a moment's pause Saleneth persisted. Numbweed? Oil? Oil makes me feel better.
I don't know that I'll need that. G'ny looked at her thoughtfully. What do you even know of numbweed, I haven't had cause to apply it to you yet!
Polidarth said it helped him when he hurt his wing on a tree branch when I asked him what might help you.
That's very sweet. Thank you. Honestly, the boys might need it more than me after the number you pulled on them. Did everyone in the Weyr know of this incident already? G'ny felt self-conscious knowing that the Weyrleader's important day had been interrupted by antics she felt she must have caused.
They don't deserve it, was the indignant reply.
Just then Lawana came rushing in, huffing, a jar of the salve in her hand. "I just heard a voice call for numbweed in the barracks. It sounded urgent. What is going on?" G'ny looked again at her dragon. Yes, I called her too. I knew she would know best how to care for you because I do not yet. Fear not, the dragons of the wrongdoers have assured me they will never attempt such a stunt again.
T'mir too arrived at the scene with two of the Weyrlings he had had been supervising washing his Tolluth and instructing in the ways of dragon anatomy. The two boys had their sleeves rolled up to their elbows and were wet all down their fronts. "S'ten, J'massy, please go round up your fellow Weyrlings, you'll find their locations on the posted schedule. Have everyone wrap up what they are doing and meet outside in the bowl with their dragonets for some guided pair bonding." T'mir instructed calmly. The two boys scampered away.
With Lawana already tending to the scraped boys under T'tor's watchful eye, and C'lin, M'tou and L'can making quick work of the remaining wallow, T'mir guided G'ny over to her barrack. "Let's take a few moments to compose ourselves before we meet the others outside. Just take a few deep breaths, there you go, it's all right, but let's not try any more of that going between anytime soon, until I have instructed you properly. I am going to step out to corral the others. Meet us when you are ready." T'mir soothed.
He watched to make sure she and Saleneth remained calm before heading out. G'ny looked deeply into her dragon's eyes, which were beginning to show flashes of blue, and stroked behind her dark head knobs. She had immediately felt better upon Saleneth's unexpected arrival and the continued physical contact they shared only put them both more at ease.
When G'ny stepped outside, all nine of the uninvolved Weyrlings were assembled, trying to quiet their awake and frantic dragons. The three boys involved in the heist emerged shortly after her. Moura and Azirith had also been called. Azirith's shining bulk commanded the attention of everyone gathered, and Moura stood in her wake next to T'mir as he addressed the pupils.
"This morning, a troubling event has occurred. As members of a Weyr and clutchmates of each other we – and you – all feel this turn of events deeply. This is a family, and you are all connected. It is very unfortunate that this has happened. The ne'er-do-wells have and will continue to be punished, and I think we can all take this as a lesson to refrain from such pranks in the future.
"Your dragons are all feeling unsettled. You must calm them with your thoughts. You must affirm to them your dedication to this Weyr and to each other. Rub them gently in their favorite places. Tolluth and Azirith will also be checking in with each of them."
Just as order was settling over the Weyrlings, two golden figures approached from across the bowl. One was a graceful woman with golden hair; the other was a smaller bundle of clumsiness with golden hide. Allika's chiding reprimands faded before the two were properly in earshot to make out what she was saying. Hiya, Genny, Saleneth, you two seem to be in all the dragon's thoughts, really commanded our clutch's attention, a chipper voice declared to G'ny's benefit. Boy is Allika upset that you and not she are the center of attention. The little golden's voice seemed amused, if not a little approving.
"Come on Mirith, you tell them it's alright, just like we worked on with the Weyrwoman," Allika said aloud, puffing out her chest. Saleneth rumbled softly following a slight pause after at this suggestion. I don't think the weyrwoman is privy to her dragon's message, Saleneth informed G'ny but did not elaborate. Before retreating back to the weyrwoman's quarters, Allika checked in on R'nan, giving Branth a scratch on the eye ridge while R'nan offered his jaw for inspection. G'ny rolled her eyes and turned her attention back on Saleneth.