Fair Winds (2/3)

Writers: Estelle, Iluva
Date Posted: 6th August 2024

Characters: Ashela, Th'reyos
Description: Ashela and Th'reyos negotiate more than just the tithe
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr, Elsewhere on Pern
Date: month 12, day 21 of Turn 11

Ashela

Th'reyos

They vanished into the blackness and appeared a few heartbeats later

into bright sunlight, glittering on the waves of the sea far below. They

were at the northern end of Dragonsfall's territory and the air was

noticeably warmer. The sea hold lay at the mouth of a river, running

down from the mountains just visible as grey, misty shapes to the north.

It looked to be thriving, with a well-built stone wall and piers along

the harbour's edge and several large warehouses with trader wagons

pulled up alongside.

**We'll land there.** Ashela indicated the open space in front of the

main hold building. The gold dragon spiralled down in wide circles,

giving the inhabitants plenty of time to admire her as they descended.

They followed Aglayath’s smooth arc to the clearing where the brown,

for all his bulk, landed with predatory grace, wings flared against

the breeze.

Th'reyos' first thought was that this hold looked as ancient as it did

young - something pulsing with promise, surrounded by the land and

waters that were here long before it and would be even longer after.

He secured his helmet to the straps and ran a hand through his hair as

he slid down. He kept thinking about after.

}:You're worried. Now that we're here.:{

There were warm smiles and nods to a few curious faces, winks at a

couple more, despite remembering why he preferred a larger pocket of

air hugging his body. The closeness of these leathers brought a vague

and irritating sense of vulnerability.

Having so much of his actual outline delineated was more unwelcome

than anything else, though the reason for it even more so: the one in

his boot was probably the easiest to access, he mused, and the least

suspected. It would be harder to get at the other knives - the one

tight to his hip under his jacket, the one concealed higher beneath

his shirt and still blazing with the cold from *between* against his

chest, but they were one part of him he had even less inclination to

reveal to onlookers, admiring or otherwise.

}:You _are_ worried.:{ Zarkarth nudged his arm.

**Try cautious. Aware.** He smiled as that correction ameliorated some

of his dragon’s concern. The brown snorted at the small clot of

holders at the clearing’s edge and Th’reyos’ eyes roamed over to the

gold and her rider as the smell of dragonbreath mingled with airborne

salt.

However unlikely or unnecessary it hopefully would be, with so many

attacks against dragons and their riders, he wasn’t going to let

anything happen to the Weyrwoman’s Second, nor was he going to let on

how prepared he was to ensure that nothing did.

}:Aglayath's more than capable herself, but I’ll still eat anything

that comes too close.:{

**You really are my hero. That kind of idiot probably tastes like

shit.** It would have to be someone or something profoundly stupid to

go near those two unattended. **Besides, everything will be fine. Just

keep an eye out. It's a friendly visit after all.** Before they were

inundated with faces and formalities, Th’reyos paused at Ashela’s

side, voice low, almost conspiratorial. “Hey. Can I ask you something

real quick?”

Ashela turned from Aglayath, where she'd been gently scratching the

golden dragon's eye-ridges. If she had the slightest concern about the

intentions of the approaching holders, she didn't show it. "You may."

“Couple somethings, actually.” He admitted. “Can I ask what the nature

of our visit is? Is this your first time? Meeting with this holder, I

mean.”

"It's the first time I've visited this Hold, but I was introduced to

Holder Jantheos at Aglayath's last Hatching. He and his wife are well

disposed towards the Weyr and usually attend when there's a Candidate

from their lands," Ashela explained. If she'd been in a less tolerant

mood, she might have told him it wasn't his concern, but given the news

out of Dolphin Cove and the unease of some holders over the girl who'd

Impressed a blue, she could see why he might want to know. And besides,

he intrigued her. Perhaps it was his thoughtfulness about the food.

"As to our business, I'm here to discuss the hold's share of the tithe

to the Weyr. Fair Winds is a sea hold, so they mainly produce fish for

eating and for oil, but they also trade with other holds and with the

North . Their warehouses are stocked with all sorts of goods, so there's

some flexibility there. I'm here to see if they can send us some

supplies we're low on instead of the usual fish. We have a need for more

hides for riding straps and leathers, and the kitchens have asked for

spices and sweet cane." Exchanging the fish for those would make a

change at dinner, at least. "Although the hold has a duty to the Weyr,

of course, this is a negotiation. We want to get the best agreement we

can for the Weyr, while still remaining on friendly terms. That's why

I'm here. And therefore, why you're here as my escort."

“Right.” Th’reyos nodded. It wasn’t a complaint, or discrepancy, then.

“So parlay the mutual and the beneficial into something more. Sounds

more than doable.” Good terms with the Holder answered one question.

Letting that run off the ledger alleviated a modicum of pressure to

assess the hold as closely. “Now, I’m not trying to step on any toes

here and I’m not implying that it’s gonna happen,” he smiled

reassuringly, ruefully, “but if for some reason we are unsuccessful in

our ask, have we got alternate holds to rely on? Or has Fair Winds got

an un-fair advantage.” His smile shaded a hairsbreadth more into a

smirk at that.

"There are always alternatives. I'll mention them to the Holder, should

it be necessary to remind him that I have other options, but I expect

he'll want to stay on our good side. Besides fighting Thread, the

friendship of dragonriders has so many other advantages." She thought of

precious trade goods being carried by swift dragon wings rather than

slower trader wagons, or invitations to Hatchings to mingle with people

of rank and status.

She lowered her voice. "However, between you and me...we have more than

enough dried fish in our storerooms, so I'm very keen on a good outcome

here."

“Yeah I s’pose we’re more than just nice to look at, aren't we?" Very

nice indeed. "Who'd want to be on any other side?"

It didn't take a Lord, or the highly born, or even the learned to know

what went through their heads - both kind and the expectedly unkind more

recently - when a dragon landed, let alone a beautiful queen. But,

_with_ a dragon, whether breathing together in Threadfall, in a flight,

in a hold, few if any would know the slick sense of power that came with it.

At least, that came with his.

Zarkarth’s mind brushed his and Th’reyos’ head raised a fraction to take

in nearing holders, casually noting number, dress, distance. "You paint

a promising picture, boss. I’m likin’ these odds.” He glanced back down

at her. “Alright, well, while you're reminding the good Holder Jantheos

of the tenets of our friendship, which I gotta feeling he won’t mind, if

it's alright with you I’ll keep ears and eyes out for what the rest of

the Wings are saying, y’know? Golds and greens not flying the same and

all. Make sure their ‘Weyrleader’s reports are all copacetic. Is that

something an escort's permitted? I could just be part of the furniture

too, if that's what you'd prefer."

"I can't stop you from listening," Ashela said, thinking that might well

turn out to be useful. A holder taking part in tithe negotiations had

quite an incentive to minimise his wealth. "Or sharing what you've heard

with me afterwards. And besides..." She looked him up and down. "You'd

make a rather scruffy piece of furniture."

Though he would have kept ears and eyes open regardless, her lack of

objection was all he needed to grin again. He might not pass her

physical inspection, but his mental focus could arrange into a

finely-honed arrowpoint. All it ever needed was a target.

"Ouch. Well played," Th'reyos looked himself up and down as well,

"although, that is the least interesting thing about me," and then her,

taking a little more time than the goldrider had. If he was scruffy,

then she was polished to perfection-- the light glinted off her hair, as

much sun high above as there was in front of him. He also wasn't sure

whether he ought to be offended (he wasn't) that she was right (she was)

about his appearance, or slightly curious that she felt the need to

bring that up again. She liked having a target too.

"Besides, it's the man who makes the clothes, boss. Ask Jantheos if a

Lord sitting on a stool is any less a Lord."

"I think I'll save that question for after the tithe agreement is made,"

Ashela replied, her amusement plain. "Here they come."

Last updated on the August 29th 2024

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Fair Winds (2/3)