New Acquaintances

Writers: Anaria
Date Posted: 18th November 2010

Characters: J'nor, Amalannia
Description: Jerenor's Intro - Jerenor tries his hand at impressing a Healer.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 11, day 19 of Turn 5

After having completed his evening chores, Jerenor stalked around the
Dining Caverns, looking for a willing bed partner. He'd been nearby
when a green rose earlier in the day, and as a result had a bit of
lust to deal with. He wondered idly to himself how long he'd have to
be at the Weyr in order to get used to the affects of dragon's mating
flights. He was somewhat glad he hadn't been around when the last gold
rose.

There were two girls that he had been "seeing" as of recent - a drudge
and a harper girl that had caught his fancy. But the drudge was busy
with her own chores, and the harper girl - while sweet - was a bit too
attached to him for his tastes. She had been pushing him to make her
his girlfriend, and had been quite resistant to his excuses that
candidate life kept him far too busy to entertain a serious
relationship. Didn't she realize that soon enough, there would be eggs
on the sands, and that he, Jerenor, was destined to Impress a bronze
dragon? He couldn't be tied down to a mere, apprentice harper. He was
having a hard enough time getting it in his head that girls were
allowed to apprentice to a craft in the Weyr.

Jerenor saw a familiar form moving off in the distance, and realized
with a start that his pet drudge was working the Dining Caverns that
evening. He frowned. This would be a lot more difficult than he
anticipated. He couldn't let her see him sweet talking another woman.
He partially obscured himself by ducking back out the doorway, and
watched as the drudge went about her work. It seemed that she had some
duty in the kitchen, and was only in the Dining Caverns for her own
mealtime. That would make things a bit easier.

He spied a weaver apprentice who was attractive, but decided that was
a poor decision. As a tailor, he had to work with the weavers at the
Weyr a lot, and he didn't want his dalliances to make practicing his
craft awkward. Scanning his eyes about the crowd, he found precisely
what he was looking for. She was an Apprentice Healer, who he gauged
to be a hair younger than his 19 turns, and her appearance was rather
plain, with unremarkable facial features, a slender, boyish body, and
mousy brown hair. Her hair and clothing was somewhat in a state of
disarray, and her posture was slouched and unassuming - both signs of low self
confidence. Low self confidence in a Weyr generally meant a woman
wouldn't be hard for the tall, attractive candidate to convince to his
cot.

He drew himself up to his full height and smoothed his well-fitting
tunic down with on hand. He was wear a burnished orange tunic with
brown trousers - an odd color combination but one he knew fit him
well. He moved to her table with an easy grace, making sure his drudge
friend didn't reappear by watching the doors to the kitchen from the
corner of his eye. He slid down in a seat across from the Healer, and
fixed his most winning, charming smile on his face. "Why hello there,
pretty lady." He stated, his words practically dripping with charisma.

"Uh... hello... candidate?" The healer said, eyeing his shoulder knots
curiously. "Do you require assistance?" She asked, scanning his body
with her eyes.

**The practical, studious, non-social type,** Jerenor thought,
categorizing her quickly. "Actually, m'dear, I haven't been around the
Weyr for very long. I just recently arrived here from the Hold, and I
haven't met a beautiful young lady with which to spend my off time at
nights. Well, at least not until just now."

The healer flushed despite herself, averting her eyes quickly. "I...
see," She said, unable to come up with a more coherent response.

"So, what's your name, sweety?"

"Amalannia." The Healer blinked up at him, seeming almost confused.
Jerenor snagged a tuber from her plate and munched at it while he
studied her. She blinked at him for a moment, debating whether to call
him out for his audacity or not, and finally just let out a resigned
sigh.

"Such a pretty name for a pretty lady," Jerenor said. "My name is
Jerenor. Journeyman Tailor. Or Candidate, whichever you prefer," he
said, winking.

The flush deepened on Amalannia's face. "Pleased to make your
acquaintance. Listen, I may be Weyrbred, but I am not going to just
fall into your sleeping furs like some wanton greenrider who's dragon
is in heat."

The corners of Jerenor's mouth quirked up into a smile. Obviously this
girl wasn't quite as naive as he'd anticipated. He filed away this
piece of information for later use, and debated internally for a
moment. While he initially was searching for instant gratification, he
had to admit that a challenge would be appreciated. Faranth knew his
little harper hadn't been hard to lure into an empty weyr. "I just
recently arrived here from the Hold, ma'am, it's hardly my intention
to go bed-hopping." He'd hoped that she would assume his Hold-bred
morals would cause him to treat her properly.

Amalannia seemed to relax just a bit. "Okay."

"You're Weyrbred, and you don't look over the age to stand, why aren't
you a Candidate?" Jerenor asked, honestly curious.

Amalannia shrugged. "I'm 16 turns. I still have a few turns. I don't
know, I've just never been so inclined as to ride a dragon. I'm small,
I don't really see myself chucking firestone bags around or scrubbing
a huge dragon down."

"That's practical of you." Jerenor said. Many girls at the Weyr stood
even though they weren't really suited for the life of a dragonrider -
he had heard this in his Candidate classes. They either became
suitable in a hurry, or were left standing. The dragon's knew, they
said, and a dragon wouldn't choose a lifemate that was incapable of
caring for them properly.

As the pair continued to discuss things, Jerenor found himself
becoming more and more interested in the girl. Actually, genuinely
interested, to the point where he'd completely forgotten his reasoning
for trying to speak to her in the first place.

"So.... unfortunately, I need to get back to the candidate barracks,"
He said with a reluctant sigh. "Can I meet with you again tomorrow for
dinner?"

Amalannia smiled slightly, "Sure. I always sit here."

"Great, I'll see you then!" Jerenor said, heading back to the
Candidate barracks. What in Faranth's name was he thinking? He
couldn't seriously hope to juggle three girls and being a candidate...

Last updated on the December 16th 2010

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