Pretty, Girly Things

Writers: Jane
Date Posted: 28th November 2006

Characters: Arateyka
Description: Arateyka is cornered by her mother - and dresses.
Location: River Bluff Weyr
Date: month 13, day 26 of Turn 3

"And don't stay late at the smithy," Delhara said as she left the table where she had found her daughter. "I'll be waiting for you."

Teykara eyed her sister. "Terrified?"

Arateyka sighed. She knew exactly what this would be about ... dresses.
"More than terrified."

Dresses and skirts and pretty, girly things.

<> Delhara eyed her daughter when she finally appeared in the rooms that had once housed the family. Although Arateyka was late her damp hair testified to what had held her up. "Good idea. Wouldn't want to try all these on if you're still sweaty."

"Wouldn't want to, at all," the journeywoman grumbled. Despite her words she had to admit (to herself) that the colours of the garments spread across every surface were eye catching. That green ... that was pretty. She edged a little closer to it and away from the unappealing red of a gown that looked like it was better suited for a holder wedding. One thing she would never be doing was making any form of marriage with anybody outside the Weyr.

"With your colouring you can wear anything," Delhara said, noticing both the expression of distaste for the red and the movement toward the other side of the room. "And you're a nice standard size so almost anything will fit you."

"Standard?" Arateyka shook her head. "I'm not. I have shoulders – and upper arms."

"We all have upper arms, dearling."

"Honestly, I'm not such an easy shape to fit. Maybe nothing here will –"

"_Arateyka,_ you are going to have a nice dress. Two. And a few skirts and pretty blouses. Do I make myself clear?"

The 'mother' tone. The journeywoman nodded silently, vowing that Tey would pay for telling tales to Delhara.

"As I was saying, with your colouring nearly everything suits you."
Delhara's own hair was a greying blonde now but had been red-blonde for most of her life, a colour that made reds and pinks difficult choices and oranges an unmitigated mistake. Arateyka was like most of the girls in having T'kanu's nut brown skin and dark hair and eyes. And his freckles. As far as freckles went Arateyka was more blessed than most but it wasn't unattractive. "Look. I had Delhanu bring a mirror."

Arateyka thought her only brother had probably needed help to manage the thing. If it wasn't the largest in the Weyr then it must come close.
She wondered where they had borrowed it from – and if getting her a dress was really an occasion that warranted such effort.

"Red. Before you protest, it _is_ your craft colour." Delhara held the dress up and tried not to laugh at her daughter's expression.

"_Forge_ red is." Arateyka battled with her mother's hands, fending the dress off after the briefest of glances in the mirror. "What about the green?"

"Oh, I don't know." The older woman made a point of holding the red dress up one final time to admire it. "It is very formal but I did like it."

The green dress was in the journeywoman's hands before the red dress was put down. "Look, this is a better style. And green." A light colour of new leaves in Spring. Not at all practical but Arateyka found herself looking into the mirror as she held the dress against her body and quite liking what she saw. Having to wear it would probably cure her of that, she thought and went to put the dress back.

"No, no. You have to try that one on. You obviously like it and the colour is lovely with your skin."

There seemed every possibility that Delhara would start undressing her as if she was still a four Turn old if she didn't comply. "It won't fit my shoulders," she warned, shedding her shirt and kicking off her boots so that her trousers could go the same way.

"Don't start that again. It's a good size and has ties at the waist so you don't end up looking like you're wearing a sack."

"Which I don't when I wear trousers," Arateyka pointed out as the dress was dropped over her head.

Delhara ignored her daughter and tugged at the dress until it settled nicely into place. She turned Arateyka around so that she could bring the side ties together at the back, tying them loosely and peering around the side of her daughters' body to check that she hadn't pulled them too tight. She hadn't. Tugging on an arm Delhara made her daughter face herself in the mirror. "See. Lovely."

Surprisingly Arateyka found herself agreeing. The long dress draped beautifully, flat across her stomach because of the ties and – she moved experimentally – wasn't too tight across the shoulders. She twisted from side to side to feel the slither of fabric against her bare legs and enjoyed it. "It _is_ nice," she agreed. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to have a dress like this one.

"Yes, it is."

Just as Arateyka relaxed her mother added:

"Now, let's find you another ..."

Last updated on the December 1st 2006

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Pretty, Girly Things