You walk into a well-lit weyr. A young woman is sitting at a small desk. She is hunched over a pile of records. She is scribbling furiously. Reluctant to interrupt her you wait to be recognized. She still doesn't look up, but instead tosses her long, dark brown braid back over her shoulder.
"Ahem," you finally make a sound to get her attention.
The young lady looks up at you with green-brown hazel eyes. She has high cheek bones, a small round nose, and full lips. "I am sorry," she says apologetically. She gets up and begins walking toward you. She is small, only about 5' 4" and is very petite. The braid now hangs down past her waist. You're taken aback by the paleness of her skin. It seems as though she hasn't left her weyr for a while especially considering the hides strewn everywhere.
"I hope you haven't been waiting long," she says her hazel eyes focused on you. Her face turns a bright shade of red as she looks around embarrassed and begins to tidy up a little.
"No problem," you reply, " I have only been here for a few minutes. I hope I didn't disrupt something important."
"You didn't," she says with a smile on her lips and in her eyes. "I was just recopying some records. It's part of a harper apprentice's duties. Most people don't enjoy this task, but I do. I want to be a great writer and keep excellent records, but I am glad for the break. My neck was beginning to hurt," she said rubbing her neck with a small hand. " Can I help you with something," she asks politely.
" I was just looking for Arianne. I was told I could find her here."
" And so you have," Arianne said with a giggle. She was 17 turns old, but she had a good sense of humor. She was known throughout the hall for her joke songs. She wrote parodies of other famous songs. She always asked permission of course, and the end result usually had the listeners rolling on the floor. "What can I help you with," she asks again straightening her harper blue tunic.
She looked quite comical. She was covered in dust from head to foot, and her blue tunic had ink spots on the sleeves. A streak of ink was on her nose. Dust went everywhere as she continued to straighten her clothes.
You cough as the dust fills your mouth. Then you sneeze as it enters your nostrils. Arianne hands you a handkerchief. " Thank you," you say, and then blow your nose.
" My, my things get so dusty when you are dealing with records. Sorry about that."
" I understand. I have a message for you from your parents."
" Great," she says her hazel eyes lit with excitement as you hand her the small piece of hide. Her parents owned a small cot hold outside of Telgar. Her father, Terrik was a master smith crafter, and her mother Wendally was a master weaver. They had been upset when the local harper had sent her to the hall to be trained. She had a gift for instruments and compositions, and her sweet alto always made an interesting counterpoint to any tune. Now she was at Jerdan Weyr after being Searched for the last clutch. She had not Impressed, but she had not wanted to leave the weyr. Now there was another clutch on the sands. She was going to get to stand again.
" She looks a little homesick," you say to yourself.
" Sometimes I wish I had a fire-lizard, " she laughed a full, hearty laugh, " then these messages wouldn't take so long."
Her laugh is infectious and you begin to laugh with her. You feel the same way. Then you could stop carrying her messages.
Suddenly Arianne throws up her hands. "What kind of host am I ," she says going red again. "Here I am reading my letter when you brought it all the way here." She quickly turns to a small round table where a pitcher and some glasses are sitting. It's one of the few pieces of furniture in the weyr that is not covered in hides. She pours you a cup of klah. It's luke warm , but you appreciate every drop. You sip it with relish as you take a seat on a small stool next to the table.
" Thank you so much for bringing my letter to me. I always look forward to hearing from my family. I can't wait to tell them that I am a candidate for the clutch of Green Cardath and Brown Oketh. I know that they are going to be proud of me. Maybe they'll even come to the Hatching this time." She turns her bright hazel eyes to you. "Please feel free to stay and rest as long as you like. I must be getting back to my copying," she says motioning to the large pile.
Arianne heads back to her desk and takes quill in hand. She takes one more look at you and flashes a quick smile before bending back over her work. You leave the room after a few minutes to the scratching of the quill.
Name: Arianne
Age: 17 Turns
Job: Harper Apprentice
Candidate:Jerdan Weyr
Father: Terrik
Mother: Wendally
Sibs: none
Birthplace: Talla Hold near Telgar
This background was provided by Angelfire, and thanks to www.themesplus.com for the tree pic. The pic of Arianne dancing came from www.geocities.com/Area51/Zone/3713. Arianne's full portrait came from Sunshiney Cyber-Adoptions
