46 – Further Investigation Needed

Previously in this story arc: Elphynia ran away from Dufas in the company of T’yul, who lost her at Poppy’s Inn. There, she was stuffed in a sack by some ruffians, but soon rescued by Bastion. Afraid of being returned to Dufas if anyone finds out who she is, she lied to Bastion and introduced herself as Delia, then explained that she’d been kidnapped. Ever the gallant, Bastion has offered to get her a room to stay inside the Inn until she figures out what to do next.

POPPY’S INN

Bastion secured a room, telling the Inn Mistress that he was here with his new wife. Elphynia was impressed by the lie, and also a little nervous about what sort of intentions he might have in mind. They were shown up the stairs to a long, dark hallway with doors leading off each side. Their room was all the way at the end of the hall, off the left side of the hall.

“I had to pay a little more for a room on this side,” Bastion said, “but I thought you might like to have a window.”

The window was tiny and dingy, nothing like the walk-out windows she had in her own chamber back at Dufas, but she knew that normal people almost never had such luxuries, so she did her best to appear suitably impressed.

“Bastion, it’s wonderful!” she exclaimed, and hurried over to the window to examine the view. It was a lovely view, she had to admit. Behind the colorful trader wagons, the fields of red poppies stretched out as far as you could see, meeting a brilliant blue sky.

Motion down among the wagons caught her eye. A group of heavy-set men were prowling around, making themselves nuisances to the friendlier, normaler folks who were trying to mind their own business. She frowned, a wisp of a thought flitting through her brain. These certainly looked like her father’s brute squad, but if they’d been the ones who stuffed her in a sack before, why hadn’t they immediately started lugging her back to Dufas? And she’d come here on dragonback. How could they have caught up with her so quickly?

Just then, one of the men turned to face the Inn. Elphynia let out a yelp and jumped back from the window.

“Delia, what is it?” Bastion said, hurrying over to her.

“Oh, nothing, nothing,” she replied, momentarily flustered by the use of her strange new name. “It’s just… those horrible men are still out there.” She didn’t have to try too hard to appear frightened.

“It’ll be all right, it’ll be fine,” Bastion assured her, putting out a hand to pat her tentatively on the shoulder.

“But Bastion!” she exclaimed, suddenly distracted. “Where are we supposed to sleep?”

For there was only one bed in the room, and devious as she was in attempting to wiggle out from under her father’s grasp, not even Elphynia was precocious enough to compromise her virtues.

“You’ll take the bed, of course,” Bastion said without hesitation. “I’ll borrow a blanket and sleep on the floor.”

Something stirred inside Elphynia – a warm feeling in her chest. She appreciated the gesture infinitely (with her virtues firmly in mind), but she was also a little anxious. Did he not find her attractive? Did he not feel the temptation, even a little bit, to take advantage of her? She pursed her lips. This was a problem that would require investigating.

45 – Beauty & the Beast

Previously: While pining after a starsmith, Kyllia-in-the-past has been distracted by a dragonrider asking her father for her hand in… candidacy? (PS: I think the title of this post is *really* clever. )

COMOS HOLD – 10 turns ago

Lenall looked at the bluerider, stunned. “My daughters? Goldriders?” he asked, a note of awe creeping into his voice.

“Well sir, there is only one gold egg, of course. But there is a very good possibility you could have a goldrider in your family, yes indeed.”

Kyllia’s brothers were popping up behind Lenall, curious and covered with wet clay.

Lenall let out a full-chested laugh. “Well what do you say, girls?” The grin on his face couldn’t have been bigger as he slapped a hand on Kyllia’s and Nyla’s shoulders. “Goldriders. I guess at least some of you will be finding a craft today after all!”

“Yes, okay, but first I just want – ” she peered behind her again, but the beautiful starsmith was hidden behind a wave of people.

“Are these your boys too?” R’van asked, smiling down at the many brothers.

“Good, strong boys,” Lenall said agreeably, suggestively.

“Well let’s just take a walk over here, and we’ll get your girls signed up and see if maybe any of your sons also have the knack we’re looking for, eh?”

And just like that, Kyllia was herded off to her future as a dragonrider, peering back over her shoulder at a man she could no longer see…

SHARDIN WEYR, present day

… and he had always been her “What if?” Nothing in her life could have been better than Blaasth, but there was a certain element stubbornly missing from her life. That young, handsome starsmith from so long ago was what filled that void most often in her dreams.

And here he was.

“Come with me, Starsmith,” she said. “We need to talk.”

44 – You Should Always Ask Dad First

Previously: Kyllia-in-the-past was pining to meet a young starsmith at a gather, but was inconsiderately interrupted.

COMOS HOLD – 10 turns ago

“Excuse me, ladies,” said a new voice. Both girls turned to see a short, dark man with a huge smile. He seemed to be talking to them, rather than asking to pass by. “Have you ever considered riding a dragon?” He addressed this question to Nyla, but as soon as the words were past his lips, a confused expression crossed his face. He turned to look at Kyllia with an expression of surprise, though he recovered quickly and returned to smiling broadly at both of them.

“A dragon?” Nyla said, her mouth dropping open in surprise. She looked past the young man and sure enough, several lengths down the field was a pair of blue dragons and one green. They were surrounded by a crowd of young people who were being allowed to stroke them and examine their huge claws and wings.

“The Weyr is searching for candidates,” the man said. The knots at his shoulder indicated that he was the rider of one of those blue dragons. Nyla glanced over at Kyllia, but Kyllia was straining over her shoulder, still trying to oogle the starsmith. Nyla jabbed her hard in the ribs with an elbow. Kyllia grunted and turned back to the rider.

“I was actually thinking about going into starsmithery,” she said breezily, and was about to turn away again when their father appeared.

“Starsmithery my shorts,” he guffawed. His dislike of the rather erudite craft was well known. “I’ll not have my children staring at the sky all day.” He addressed this last comment to the bluerider, who looked surprised.

“Oh, no sir. I’m not with the halls at all. I am Bluerider R’van, from Shardin Weyr. I was just explaining to your daughters here that there is a gold egg on the sands, and my dragon over there suggested to me that your girls…” there was a very slight hesitation around the word “girls”, “would be ideal candidates to stand. But of course, I should speak to you before I even speak to them – how, sir, would you feel about having a weyrwoman in your family?”

43 – Not the Proposal You Were Hoping For

Previously: Kyllia interrupted Vilex’s attempt to scam the Headwoman and Crechemother – but why does she recognize him? We have traveled into a delightful little flashback to find out.

COMOS HOLD – 10 turns ago

There he was, at the next booth down – the most beautiful man Kyllia had ever seen. He was tall, dark, and devistatingly handsome.

“Oh,” she breathed, beginning to move unconsciously toward his booth.

“What is it?” Nyla asked, noticing her sister’s distraction.

“Look at him,” Kyllia replied, nodding toward the crafter’s display. The man was standing up on a raised platform, pointing to a chart with a long stick. The chart seemed to be covered with a multitude of dots, and there was a strange instrument on a stand just to one side. Another man was standing by the instrument, explaining something to a holder who had one eye pressed up against it.

“Oh, he is a nice slice of wherry,” Nyla agreed appreciatively. “But good luck convincing father to let you join the starsmiths.”

“There’s no harm in going to hear what he has to say, right?” She shuffled closer and Nyla trailed along behind. All their brothers were distracted at the potters’ booth, so it seemed harmless enough.

“Would you like to see the Dawnsisters?” called the man standing next to the instrument. “Even in the day, they’re a wonderful sight through our telescope! First glimpse is free for those thinking of joining the craft, or for pretty ladies.” He winked unsubtly at Nyla, but seemed not to even have seen Kyllia. It was the way of things.

Nyla waved him off. “We’re just looking. What’s he talking about over there?” She gestured to the tall man on stage with his poster of dots.

“It’s the stars in the night sky, my dear. Come back after dark tonight, and I’d be happy to let you use my telescope to see them properly.” His tone was taking a decided turn toward indecent. Kyllia pulled Nyla away, wanting to get closer to the other man.

“I’m going to ask him a question,” she said. “Help me think of a question to ask, I want to hear if his voice is as beautiful as the rest of him.”

“Excuse me, ladies,” said a new voice. Both girls turned to see a short, dark man with a huge smile. He seemed to be talking to them, rather than asking to pass by. “Have you ever considered riding a dragon?”

 

42 – Crafts, Husbands, Same Difference

Previously: While trying to con the Headwoman and Crechmother into revealing secrets about Galina’s children, Vilex was interrupted by the arrival of goldrider Kyllia.

SHARDIN WEYR

Kyllia did a double take, taking in the tall, lanky form of the master starsmith. “It’s you!” she exclaimed. The man who had starred in her dreams for so many years, here before her, in the least likely place she could imagine.

Vilex was racking his brain to figure out why the young goldrider seemed to recognize her. As one of the two goldriders in his territory, he of course knew who she was. And he also knew that they had never met before. Besides knowing that he’d never been face-to-face with any of Shardin Territory’s goldriders, Kyllia had a face that you didn’t forget. Something was wrong with her eyes. Was one lopsided? Did she squint because of that, or was the squint another problem all together? And that wart… No. He had certainly never met her before.

But if somehow he was wrong and she really did recognize him, she was about to blow his cover. He couldn’t let that happen.

“My dear goldrider!” Vilex exclaimed. “You were also on my list of people to meet with today. Is now a good time for you? I fear I did not make any appointments, which seems to have inconvienced these good ladies considerably. I will make an appointment for a better time. With you, too, of course… if now isn’t good?” He favored her with his most charming smile, which, considering his generally slimy demeanor.

Kyllia felt herself go wobbly in the knees. She hadn’t been sure at first. The funny, tight black clothing seemed wrong – she remembered him in robes more after the holder fashions – but as soon as he smiled, she knew. It may have been fifteen turns, but she knew that smile anywhere.

COMOS HOLD – 15 turns ago

Not even the fact that this gather was full of mostly crafters talking about how great they were could dampen Kyllia’s spirits. Coming all the way up to Comos for a gather was something her family only did once a turn.

“When do we get to go over to the food stalls?” moaned Lydan, her youngest brother.

“I’m not leaving until at least one of you picks a craft,” her father replied. Lenall had said this several times during the morning, but his words sounded less and less like a joke every time.

“Or a husband? Would it be okay to pick a husband instead of a craft?” asked Nyla, grinning and poking Kyllia in the ribs. Kyllia swatted at her.

“Lay off, or I’m going to start writing love notes to Bisler and signing them in your name,” she told her sister. Nyla turned on her with a glare, but their brothers cracked up.

“How about pottery? You like playing in the mud, Lydan. Potting was invented with you in mind. Let’s go talk to them.” Their father took the young boy by the elbow and steered him over to where the group of potters was demonstrating to a crowd of young folk how to make little animals from balls of clay.

Kyllia began to trail after them, not from any sort of interest, but because that’s what she’d been doing all morning. But then she saw him. At the next booth down, there he was – the most beautiful man she had ever seen.

41 – Long Lost… What?

Previously in this story arc: Starsmith Vilex is pretending to be a woodcrafter selling cradles to find information about Galina’s children. The only problem is that he’s really bad at it, and also, the Weyrwoman has just walked in…

SHARDIN WEYR

“Weyrwoman!” Goona exclaimed, looking over their shoulders at the persona who had just entered the room.

Vilex’s heart practically stopped. Galina? Here in this very room with him?

“Goldrider Kyllia,” Namora said, turning and nodding respectfully to the newcomer, though her use of the term “goldrider” instead of “weyrwoman” showed her general opinion of the Weyr’s younger goldrider.

“Good day, all,” Kyllia piped cheerfully. “I was in the area so I thought I’d swing by and pick up the sevenday’s reports and check on my nephew. But I see you have a guest, so perhaps this isn’t a good time…?”

Vilex, who was grinding his teeth from the disappointment of not getting to meet Galina face to face, finally turned around. He donned his most charming smile and swept an elaborate bow.

“Weyrwoman Kyllia!” he exclaimed. “I do not believe I have yet had the honor of making your acquaintance. I am Master Samson, visiting from Comos.”

He expected some kind of reply, and when none was forthcoming, he peeked nervously up from his bent position. Kyllia was looking at him with an expression of absolute shock.

“Weyrwoman?” Goona asked nervously.

Kyllia shook herself. “It’s you!” she exclaimed.

40 – A Girl With No Home

Previously: Bastion and Zyria have freed Elphynia from her sack, and now Bastion wants to make up for T’yul’s dishonorable behavior by taking her inside to get the situation “sorted out.”

POPPY’S INN

Elphynia was alarmed. What did he mean, “sort this out?”

“Wait!” she called. “I, um… I don’t even know your name yet.”

The young man stopped, abashed.

“Beg your pardon, my lady. I am Bastion, journeyman weaver. I am passing through here in the company of the Sunset Train on my way to begin my mastery studies. My duty to you.” He swept her a low, dignified bow, the likes of which she’d rarely even seen in her father’s court.

And he had called her “lady.” Did that mean he recognized her? She decided to gamble on the fact that he was simply being overly polite. She’d rather chance that than chance that he was another secret spy of her father’s.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Journeyman Bastion. I am Delia, formerly of Dufas Hold.” The only thing true in her statement was how pleased she was to meet him. She did, at least, know a girl named Delia, though she was at Idjut rather than Dufas Hold. But how would he check up on that? Unless – oh shards! – he came from Idjut?

Thankfully, her lie passed without comment.

“What brings you to this place, then, so far from Dufas?” he asked.

“I was kidnapped!” she said, without even thinking.

Bastion frowned. “By who?”

“Listen,” she said, “not to be paranoid, but might this conversation be a little safer if we have it after you’ve taken me inside and hidden me away, like you suggested a moment ago?”

“Oh, of course!” Bastion said, blushing a little. “If you’ll come with me, my lady?” He offered her his arm, which she gladly accepted. They began making their way toward the Inn, rather more covertly than might have been necessary.

 

39 – Let’s Get Sorted

Previously: Bastion rescued Elphynia from her sack, with Zyria aiding and abetting.

POPPY’S INN

“Maybe the knock on the head stunned her?” suggested the other redhead, standing beside the beautiful man.

“I’m fine, thanks,” Elphynia said, irritably. The man broke into a smile and it made her heart melt a little.

“Let me give you a hand up,” he said. She accepted and was shortly back on her feet, hastily brushing her skirts back down to remain decent. It would be nice if that other woman would disappear.

As if reading her mind, the young man said, “It’s okay Zyria, I’ll help her back inside the Inn. Why don’t you… go see what Courin’s up to?”

The other woman, Zyria, favored the young man with an incredulous look, but nevertheless turned and sauntered off. She was obviously swinging her hips just a little more than necessary.

“Are you all right?” the young man asked Elphynia, pulling her attention away from the competition.

“How would you feel if you’d been stuffed in a sack by ruffians?” she asked with just the right note of helplessness in her voice. “I guess mostly it’s my dignity that’s been bruised. Though I’ve got a right nice lump on my knee.” She hoisted her skirts high enough to show off the aforementioned knee to her rescuer. While the bruise there was a rather impressive specimen, the young man didn’t seem to be focusing very well on that.

“I, um…” he stuttered, his gaze following the lovely limb down to a delicate ankle and then forcing it to the grass. She was very forward this one. Not quite as bad as Zyria and Courin, but were there any decent young women left in the world?

Elphynia noticed his discomfort and blushed. What had she been thinking? Escaping from Dufas was making her brazen and reckless, and she knew that was not the best way to keep her virtue in tact.

“Perhaps I should take you back inside,” the young man murmured, still examining the ground.

“Inside?” Elphynia queried. She was curious about what was to be found in there.

“You, uh, you work there, yes?”

“Work there!” Elphynia broke into a wide smile, delighted. “I’ve never ever been outside my Hold before today!” At his bewildered expression, she elaborated. “I was Searched today, you see. The bluerider seemed nice enough, but…” here she pursed her lips in imitation of her sister’s disapproving face. “But he ran off when those awful men attacked me.”

This claim produced exactly the desired effect. Her young hero’s jaw dropped and his cheeks colored red. “What kind of monster…” The sentence sputtered out amid his anger. “You deserve better than that! Come with me, we’re going to sort this out.” And he turned and began marching purposefully toward the Inn.

38 – A Vision (and His Harpy)

Previously: Zyria helped Bastion break into a wagon where they heard banging and shouting, only to discover a screaming sack of potatoes.

POPPY’S INN

Elphynia was terribly battered. She had not counted on being so high above the floor, and had taken several very solid bashes in the ribs and arms as she tumbled down. When someone opened the door, she was disoriented and terrified that the person in question was her captors, returned to see why she’d been making so much noise. And so she was quiet.

The voice that invited her to “come on out” did not sound like it belonged to the sort of person who would kidnap helpless young women, but without a visual, it was hard to know for sure.

Suddenly, a weight settled onto her arm and sharp little bits dug themselves in. It surprised her and she couldn’t help it: she screamed.

“By the first egg, there is someone in here!” the voice said. She was so busy trying to bat off the thing that was attacking her arm that she wasn’t worried any more about facing her attackers.

The needles disappeared on their own, and strong hands clamped down in their place. Awkwardly she was lifted more or less upright and then found herself in someone’s arms. That someone smelled absolutely delightful. A jarring motion let her know that she was moving.

She considered suggesting to her captor that a ransom might be available if only they would free her and contact her father. That notion was quickly dismissed, however. She would truly rather be sold to some unknown Lord as a bedwarmer than marry Reptal and warm his bed for free.

“If you let me out, I promise not to run,” she finally suggested after being jolted around for what she considered long enough.

“In a moment,” replied a voice. It was low and melodious, reassuring as the grip that held her. It didn’t really sound like it could belong to the same person who had stuffed her in here to begin with.

The moment passed and she was set down on an uneven surface. Tugging above her head suggested someone was trying to release her, then suddenly, there was light. She blinked into the brightness, putting a hand up to her head, where she discovered that her beautiful hair was sticking up in every direction.

The images in front of her finally resolved themselves into people. The face closest to her was wearing an expression of concern, and as she focused on it, she realized it was, quite possibly, the most beautiful face she had ever seen. His nose was straight and slender, with dark eyes under long lashes and a mouth that looked extraordinarily kissable.

“Y’all right there, sweetie?”

The words broke Elphynia’s focus on the young man. Frowning, she turned to the woman who was standing just behind him. She was shockingly beautiful, with delicate features and hair nearly as long and red as Elphynia’s own.

37 – Seriously Scared Potatoes

Previously: Elphynia got her be-sacked self unwedged, but is still stuck in a sack. In a wagon. In the middle of nowhere.

POPPY’S INN

“Oh Bastion!”

The sugar-sweet voice came from behind him, making the journeyman jump.

“Are you looking for a little distraction for your afternoon?” Zyria cooed. She was hanging out the window of a nearby red wagon. The men in the brute squad who had just lost that blue dragonrider were leering at her appreciatively, but she wasn’t paying them any mind.

Bastion turned nearly as red as the wagon and ducked his head. He was about to try an excuse when there was a tremendous crash from another wagon, followed by a string of muffled shouting, probably cursing. Another crash followed and then there was silence.

Bastion and Zyria exchanged glances, then Bastion ran to see what was going on.

“Hello?” he called. “Is there someone there? Are you okay?” There was a low sound, but no one appeared. Zyria appeared around the corner, still arranging her skirt.

“Probably someone’s animal causing trouble, don’t you think?” She laid a hand on his arm and stared up at the blue wagon with big eyes. Under her fingers, Bastion’s arms tingled.

“Animals don’t curse,” he said. He pulled himself up onto the step and knocked on the yellow door. “Hello?” he repeated.

More thumping began inside. He was just starting to worry that he was interrupting yet another amorous couple when he heard a very distinct “ouch!”

He tried the door, but it was locked. He pounded harder, shouting “open up!” but no further sounds came from inside. He jumped down from the step and circled around the wagon, looking for another way in. It had windows, but they were small and high. He was contemplating trying to clambor up a wheel when he heard a “snap.” Zyria’s head appeared around the corner and she was smiling.

“Door’s open, sweets,” she said. Bastion let go of the wheel and hurried over to her. Sure enough, the yellow door was open several inches.

“How did you do that?” he asked. Zyria just raised her eyebrow and winked at him.

He could worry about her later. First, there was someone in trouble.

He hopped back up onto the step and pulled the door the rest of the way open. The inside of the wagon was full of boxes and sacks, one of which seemed to have fallen off a large stack and now lay just inside the door. There was no one in here who could have been cursing.

He was just about to turn around an ask Zyria for another explanation (which she probably wouldn’t provide) when a gold firelizard came soaring past. She landed on a box inside the wagon, at eye level with Bastion. She cocked her head at him then chirped, a delightful musical sound. Bastion looked back at her, annoyed.

“Come on out, you,” he said. She completely disregarded him, instead hopping off the box and down onto the sack laying inside the entrance.

The sack screamed.