Getting Through (1/2)

Writers: Miriah, Suzee
Date Posted: 21st July 2014

Characters: Ninaine, N'call
Description: N'call confronts Ninaine and makes an impact.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 8, day 10 of Turn 7
Notes: Notes: Part 1

Ninaine

N'call

"No, those are too tight." Ninaine spoke to the weaver and rubbed her
arms slowly. The weaver looked at her in askance. That was the third
set of clothing that had been rejected; she was certain that the first
set had been the proper size. Sighing, the weaver brought out the next
pair. Ninaine immediately relaxed and nodded. "And a belt please." A
belt was added along to the clothes and a new set of boots. "Thank
you." Ninaine gathered up the clothing and moved into the small room
to put them on. It took time to get released from one of the dresses
she had clung to, and then to slowly put on what she considered to be
men's clothing. It just felt wrong.

When she exited the changing area, the weaver stared at the sight.
Ninaine cinched the buckle and looked down at herself with as much
satisfaction at the pants that she could muster. Three times her size,
the pants and shirts ballooned around her, effectively hiding the
shape of her body beneath voluminous folds. She fumbled a little as
she cinched the pants with the belt, making them poof out more around
her hips and thighs. There. It was as good as a skirt, she decided.

"Are you sure that's what you want?" The weaver spoke gently. "They're
a little...large on you." And made the girl look like she had gained
fifty pounds.

Ninaine nodded. "That's what I want." That they were large was the
entire point. She didn't want to feel naked. There was just something
wrong with clothes that felt like they were painted on to the skin.
"Thank you for your help." She placed her knots on the shirt, buttoned
it all the way to her neck and then gathered up her discarded clothes.
She nodded to the weaver and strode out, finding the sensation of
material between her legs rather odd. She mentally checked Luneth
again. Still napping, good.

N'call leaned against the door frame with a quizzical look on his
face. "Really" he shook his head. "That looks attractive to you?" He'd
come to the weavers to get a shirt mended and couldn't really believe
his eyes.

Ninaine's head whipped around to N'call and she immediately blushed
and looked away from him. The image of his nakedness sprung to her
mind before she was able to master a polite mask, but it was spoiled
by the pink in her dusky skin. She started to reply, squeaked, cleared
her throat and managed to speak. "It's about being properly covered."
She stood a little straighter, correcting her posture. "I have to wear
pants, the weyrling staff insisted. So I'm wearing pants."

"Right," he nodded slowly. "And did they explain why to you?" He
turned to the weaver and handed her the damaged shirt for repairs.

Still refusing to look in his direction, she stood stiffly and cleared
her throat. "Of course. I can't wear a dress and ride my dragon. " Not
only would it show off her legs, but it would be cold too.

He shook his head and snorted. "True, but also, if you fell off your
dragon how exactly would another rider grab your leg to break your
fall if they can't find it in all those folds? Hmm?"

Her brow furrowed. "These aren't my riding leathers for Threadfall."
There was a frown at that; she'd been fitted for them and was not
looking forward to them at all. "These are just clothes. For working
with Luneth and drills and such."

"Oh," he said nodding as if agreeing with her reasoning. "Is Luneth
not going to fly in drills then? You two are just going to stay on the
ground?"

Finally she did lift her face to his, and her chin rose. "Of course
she is. I'll be strapped in. And there's no thread during drills."

"Well then," N'call couldn't help the snarky tone. "I guess you know
everything and have no need of instruction then."

Her mouth gaped open like a fish for a moment, then closed, and then
opened again. "I didn't say that at all."

"You certainly seem to argue with everyone who tries to help you.
Doing only enough to get by and making your Weylingmasters work more
with you and Luneth than any other of the weyrlings, or so I've heard.
Do you think that's fair or even safe?"

Ninaine bit her lip and frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. "I
don't ask them to work only with me. And I work hard. I'm sore all the
time. " She looked away from N'call again and glancing down at her
clothes, she hugged herself tighter. "And that has nothing to do with
my clothes."

He shook his head. "I don't know why I bother," he said. "It has
_everything_ to do with _those_ clothes. It's just another sign that
you don't trust the Weyr and what we're trying to do here."

She blinked and looked down at her clothes, then looked back at him,
clearly not seeing the connection. "Because I want these clothes?"
They were the closest thing to a dress and still be pants that she
could find. "What's wrong with them?"

"Do you see _any_ female dragonriders wearing skirts while working
with their dragons. Have you seen even _one_?" He was so frustrated
with the girl he just wanted to walk away. He shook his head "But in
the dining hall many of them do. Why do you think that is?"

"Well...no." She admitted. "But that's why I got these. They said it
was supposed to be easier to work and clean Luneth with them." As for
the dining hall, she simply didn't get to go there much and when she
did, it was rushed so Luneth wouldn't wake before she returned. Now
clearly uncomfortable and uncertain, she chewed on her lower lip. "I
guess they want to?"

"I know why you got them," he said. "Because they're as close to a
skirt as you can get and still ride astride." He pinched the bridge of
his nose as a headache threatened. "Look, you're so set in your own
ways that you can't see we do things for a reason. Skirts are
dangerous around growing dragons. Accident's happen. It isn't just
about riding or Thread or tipping over. The fabric covering you needs
to fit snugly to protect you properly. That," he said pointing at the
overlarge garment. "Could fall off and trip you, or get caught in your
straps, or any number of things."

Ninaine looked away and down, tugging at the loose clothing around her
legs. It wouldn't fall off. She had it belted tightly. She didn't like
what she was hearing either. "But..." The far-too-tight riding
leathers that she had been measured for made her feel like everyone
was staring at her. Like she was naked. And according to N'call,
everything she was doing was wrong! "So...I'll wear the riding
leathers when I'm on her." She was close to tears.

"You," he stared back sternly "will get the right kind now." He shook
his head. "The thing you have to realize is this is not the Hold. You
don't live there anymore. You live here and must conform to the ways
of the Weyr. Many have done it before you and you can do it too."

"But more than that and as hard as it is to hear. You _must_ do it for
the sake of Luneth and the people you will spend the rest of your life
protecting. Get control of her, make her obey you. Because if you
don't do it now you won't be able to later."

"Go and put on the correct sized trousers _now_" he said and watched a
weaver's eyes flare at his tone. When she didn't move right away he
repeated himself. "Now." The weaver held out the appropriate size to
the young woman and stepped back.

She jerked as he repeated the now and with steps full of dread and
watery eyes, she went back to the weaver and with shaking hands took
the trousers. She didn't see how wearing the hated things would make a
difference for Luneth. Her dragon didn't care what she wore. Her lower
lip trembling, she stepped into the small room used for changing. She
slipped her baggy trousers off and sniffed softly as she struggled to
put the much tighter trousers on. She hated them. They clung to her
hips and thighs and cupped her buttocks like a second skin. She
couldn't go out there like this! Tears streamed down her cheeks as she
tugged the baggy shirt down. It at least hung to her knees and covered
the indecent tightness around her legs. Now her just her round calves
showed, but even that was bad enough. She hung back away from the
door and tried to tug the shirt down lower, but it just wouldn't
stretch.

Something told her that he would stay out there until she came out.
She opened the door and peeked out, lower lip sucked in. "I can't go
out like this."

"Yes you can," he motioned her to come out of the room. "Come on."

The door creaked open, but before it opened, she had her baggy
trousers clutched in front of her with one hand and the other hand
gripping her baggy shirt to make sure it was tugged down. Her heart
was beating wildly and she refused to look up as she took a step out.
It felt wrong.

When she got close enough he ripped the baggy drawers from her hand
and tossed them to the weaver. "Come on," he said taking her hand.
"We're going to the dining hall."

Her eyes bulged as the trousers were ripped from her and she was about
to turn back for them when she was tugged away by his hand. "But..."

Her upset had finally woken Luneth from her nap and there was an
instant bugle of alarm when the green woke to find her rider not by
her side. Quickly picking up on her rider's emotions, Luneth exploded
from the barracks, wings outstretched. She oriented on the Craft area
and began barreling towards it.

Last updated on the July 22nd 2014

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Getting Through (1/2)