Hidden Meanings | Rhianwen

Not the large stone caverns that Weyr people are used to, these are buildings built on the top of the cliff, sometimes referred to as the Weyr Cliff. These buildings are all the same size, with multiple apartments for dragonriders to live in in each building. Because of space constraints, dragons sleep in large pavilions built around the dragonrider apartments.
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Thu May 24, 2018 9:29 pm

Fuzzy Time - Southern Spring, Turn 2046

For all the sun hung in the skies hours later than it ever had during the start of Spring, the brightest light of all still found itself defeated by the looming western horizon. Once it sunk away, the skies blazed with its dying flames until the darkness of night swept across the skies. Only then did the stars finally dare to shine.

It was in this darkest moment that the speckled purple hide of a firelizard emerged over the Weyr. The face and the dragon were burnt into her thoughts with a strict instruction: deliver the package at all costs. Tiny talons gripped the folds of cloth tight against her belly as she folded her wings and fell, slipping back into the chills of between. Within an instance, she returned to the world and spread her wings. She skimmed the tops of a multitude of roofs and spared a glance to each home. She found a dragon curled in nearly every wallow, but none of the them matched the hide in mind, a hide that drove the amethyst forward before she slipped between once more for a pavilion just beyond her. The dragon in question radiated like the white of the sun, even in the deepest of night. And her rider?

So many nights had the firelizard witnessed her master's tears over her lost love. The amethyst felt the loss keenly every night the round face of the gold's rider came to her master's mind, and the song of her voice floated in their memories. Through her master, the firelizard recalled the warmth of the woman who healed every hurt of her heart, and sheltered them from the pains of the world.

At all costs, the firelizard needed to find her.

In the distance, a hide came into view, one that glowed with the light that drew in the small flit to it like the waves to the shore. She circled around several times before she saw a glimpse of the woman in question busying over herself over one thing or another that the firelizard did not fully understand. With a slip back into the depths of between the little firelizard emerged into her living quarters. It only took one circle for the little beast to find a secure location to place her package. Upon the living room table, she set the folded handkerchief, which hid a pressed gardenia within...

In their youth, Rhianwen and Inez played about the lands of Benden Hold. They hid in the groves, and rode out on runner back into the valleys of Lord Cador's lands, yet no matter where they went, upon their return they always visited the gardens where Cador kept his prized flowers. Among them were Neratian Gardenias, and one day, when no eyes watched the two girls, Inez stole one for Rhianwen to cherish.

... now one was kept among the folds of the handkerchief, a white lace with pink trim that once belonged to an old love. No note was left with cloth and blossom, but the memories were message enough.

The firelizard departed within the blink of an eye, leaving behind an unspoken promise for the goldrider.
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Thu Jun 07, 2018 6:04 am

Fuzzy Time - Northern Fall, Turn 2046

It felt like work never ended. Even now, when most of the Weyr had turned in for the night, Rhianwen remained awake, penning the rest of a letter to High Reaches queenrider, Nihna. Communication had started up regularly between them ever since Atricis had gifted the Weyr a gold egg back in Autumn. Safryn had requested Rhianwen take lead in matters diplomatic, so a majority of Rhianwen's duties required high communication with external parties and a fair amount of travel or hosting and, while Atricis had little crossover with High Reaches, Rhianwen knew well the importance of maintaining open lines of communication for when necessary so she penned a letter to Nihna every other week.

With a fluorish, Rhianwen signed her name and then tied the letter up for a quick delivery. It was early enough yet in High Reaches that Rhianwen gave a mental summons to Astarin and moved out of her office to her living quarters, ready to put an end to her own work day finally.

Once, Rhianwen would have given no thought to a flash of purple. Once, she would have expected it. Indeed, after she had lost Inez, she had constantly sought signs of the glittering amethyst she had known almost as well as her own Astarin. Years had passed, however, and Rhianwen had lost that familiarity with amethyst hide, so when she caught sight of it, disappearing between, she did not recognize it at first. It wasn't until Astarin flew up to the parcel left behind and began chattering, looking around for the familiar flit to reappear and sharing memories with Rhianwen through their bond, that it clicked. "Gwen?" she asked aloud, looking around the room, herself, only to find it as empty as it normally was. It couldn't be. Inez had cut all ties with her turns ago. She was married. She had children. Why would Gwen show up now? But the small gift left behind proved Rhianwen could not be seeing things and that the flit could be none other than Gwen.

The letter slipped from Rhianwen's hands and to the floor. She walked over to the table and brushed her fingers over the nostalgic pattern. Of course Rhianwen would recognize the handkerchief. She could picture the delicate fingers that would hold onto it. She remembered the two of them sitting together and agonizing over patterns because ladies knew how to knit lace and sew and handkerchiefs were the simplest of forms to practice on. Rhianwen swallowed at the memories. Her heart ached, as she was sure it always would, but she had grown past the time when she would cry over Inez. It had been too long. They had both grown past each other in their lives. Very likely this was Inez's way of saying a final goodbye to them even if the voice of years of familiarity argued such a motive did not fit.

With bated breath, Rhianwen opened the handkerchief, to find what it was Gwen had carried within its confines.

She barely saw the petals before the tears came.

Apparently it would never be far enough in the past to stem the tide of tears and loss over Inez. When she could bite back her tears and wipe her eyes dry, Rhianwen brushed her fingers against the green of the stem, too afraid to touch the delicate petals and risk damaging them. A message from Inez. A memory still cherished by both. Rhianwen could mount Lennoth right this moment. She did not know Inez's hold well enough to jump, but she knew where it lie on the map. She knew how to follow the shore once she made it to Benden Territory. She could hold the bloom between them and ask why. What Inez expected this to accomplish aside from further heartache.

Nowhere on Pern was more than three coughs away for a dragonrider but they had their own lives, the each of them. Inez could not stop being a holder and mother just as much as Rhianwen could not stop being a queenrider and the Weyrwoman Second.

Then again, Inez had always been the dreamer of the two of them. The visionary. The one with the ideas.

Rhianwen left the flower and handkerchief and walked over to her bedroom's vanity. Astarin had lost track of her excitement over Gwen's appearance during Rhianwen's tears. Instead, the gold chittered concern as she followed Rhianwen around. She settled on the bed and watched as Rhianwen pulled her hair out of its twists, brushing carefully before tying off a lock. She picked up her small shears and trimmed it off. It took little effort, but definite care, to braid it. And then, with a ribbon the same blue as Inez's eyes--because that was a color she would never forget--Rhianwen tied the two ends together.
Unlike Gwen, Astarin was far less secretive. Having only a face to go by, the gold could only appear directly before Inez. She did not land, but held out the small pouch, scolding her for the distress her mistress had been in. The moment Inez took the proffered item, Astarin left in a cloud of cold.

A part of Rhianwen, after all, would always be with Inez.
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Thu Jun 07, 2018 11:02 am

Fuzzy Time - Northern Fall, Turn 2046

Upon Gwen's return to Benden Weyr, the deep of night blanketed over the mountain range with the thick down of clouds. Though winter had yet to settle, snow flurries had begun to frequent the Bendenite peaks, adding a fingertip of snow every night to the pack that had already accumulated. It was on those frozen nights, Gwen could scarcely tell the difference between the chill of the void and the bite of the advent of winter, thus without delay, the amethyst twisted through the skies and dove for the weyr bowl, only to blink between once more.

When she reemerged, the warmth of a dying hearth greeted her. The room was dark aside from the sparse flickers of flames. It was by these waning fires that a woman sat. Though still, her mind bounded with life and worry. Elbows on the leather armrest, and hand at chin, she watched the fires in vivid contemplation. Gwen caught the image of a loving woman, her round face with the broad smile, the memories of nimble fingers braiding her mistress's illustrious locks in the early evening... Did you succeed? her mistress' asked of her companion.

Gwen responded with an image of the package deposited upon the table with the woman in question in the distance.

She might have received the gift best had it been you who had delivered it, Iorveth slipped into her thoughts. You still love her. Be brave and go to her, my sky.

No, Inez answered. The thought was resolute and unmoving.

What good is a gesture if it is hollow?

It was not a gesture, it was a reminder. Rhianwen will know what it meant. Before Iorveth could rebuttal, she inserted images of her children into his thoughts. Why did she not leave for Atricis? Because she stayed for them. So long as her children had a chance at a safe and prosperous life in the hold, she needed to remain in Benden Weyr under the guise of Nezi.

The brownrider raised her fingers to her firelizard in summon, and promptly the amethyst complied. She hopped down to the armrest to slip her head against Inez's palm in support and affection. Once Inez gave her a stroke along her brow, Gwen folded her wings and said proudly at her mistress' side.

Perhaps it is time for sleep, my sky.

Iorveth had the right of it, though Inez did not want to give into the demands of repose when the memories of her love came so vividly to mind in this rare moment. Every detail Gwen bestowed upon her, Inez committed to memory. The flow of her hair, hang of her dress, the scent of her quarters, the whisper of her voice...

The trill of excitement broke the silence Inez once enveloped herself in. The woman's posture straightened as Gwen chattered at the new found, and well known, company of a gold firelizard. Astarin.


The gold seemed furious with Inez, scolding her for reasons that escaped Inez. Yet the gold had arrived on a mission, and supplied Inez pouch. Was this Rhianwen's response? It must have been, and for a moment Inez was stilled by the prospect of contact with Rhianwen. Her heart drummed against her chest as she dared to reach out for the gift. Once fingers managed to pluck the pouch from the firelizard's grasp, Astarin blinked back between.

Fingers nearly stumbled as they opened the pouch, and reached for the item within. A lock of hair was procured from the sack. Rhianwen had taken the time to braid the locks and tie the ends with ribbon to match Inez's eyes. The hair was as smooth as the sarcenet that held it. It smelled of Atricis and dragon hide, but through the changes of the weyr, Inez caught the scent that had always belonged to Rhianwen. Slowly, she sunk back into her chair and curled in on herself with the gift. Many tears were shed, yet for the first time in turns, it was Rhianwen who wiped each one away.

Though patient, Iorveth lingered in support, his mind warm with love and assurance. What is it?

Gwen churred softly for her, as the fires lingered in the black room. Inez looked to the strands, caressing it the weave as she once did when they were young. The youthful Inez lay in bed with Rhianwen, watching as those dark eyes slowly began to flutter with the weight of sleep, and as she too succumbed to the deep of night, she did so with the feel of the same dark plaits tangled between her fingers. It's a memory.

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