Why Not the Gold?

Writers: Ames, Len
Date Posted: 28th September 2010

Characters: Cardella, G'wen
Description: Cardella and Galwen meet whilst working in the kitchen
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 10, day 26 of Turn 5
Notes: Mentioned: E'naer

Cardella

Cardella pulled the tray of special pies out of the oven. She hadn't made this pies much as they took quite a bit of effort to create them. She smiled down at them. They looked perfect. This was the third tray she'd made. Tonight's meal would be extra special because of them, she knew.

Sitting the tray onto the counter, she gave them some time to cool. However, it wasn't long before others needed the space as well. Cardella glanced around looking for someone to help her move the pies to a better location to cool.

"Does anyone have time to help me move some of these sweet pies to a cooling spot?" She asked of those in the kitchens around her.

Standing close by, Galwen heard her timid voice. Nodding, he picked up the tray, turning to an empty space out of the corner of his eye. One step, two steps, and he was bitting his teeth from the burning heat of the tray. Why didn't she say it was so flaming hot? He turned to ask her for a cloth when the unthinkable happened.

The floor, the walls, a weyrbrat or two, had tuned the most lurid shade of purple. Pie was everywhere. Part of Galwen's brain registered that they had been made of beech berry, his favorite fruit. Ignoring the burning pain down the right of his trousers, he turned to the girl. It seemed his words were caught deep in his throat, leaving him gasping like a fish.

Even as she turned, Cardella saw a boy about her own age pick up the tray. She tried to warn him, but it was too late. In a matter of seconds, the pies were everywhere and he was covered in the sticky, hot purple goo.

"Oh no!" She cried, hurrying over with a rag in her hands. "We have to get that off of you, before it burns. The trays were hot! Hurry," she grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the sink, wetting the rags and trying her best to get the hot pie filling off of him. Others hurried over to help. One of the older women suggested he take off his pants before it burned through. A few even seemed to yank at the top of his trousers as though they themselves would see to the task.

"I'm so, so sorry," Cardella mumbled. She hadn't expected anything like this to happen and she felt partly responsible.

Galwen was mortified. His foster mother was trying to take his tousers off like he was still her littliest weyrbrat! Batting her hands away, he muttered, "it wasn't that hot."

With as much diginity as he could muster he whipped the worst of the juice off himself. Thankfully a drunken song from some bronze riders drifted into the kitchen and set the women around him giggling as they went back to their tasks at hand. Only the girl who had made the pies stayed with him.

She was rather pretty, with her hazel eyes and wavy hair. He hoped that someone had warned her about the bronze riders and their 'ways.'

Looking down, he said, "I'm really sorry about that, I'm at bit fumblefingered."

"It's alright," Cardella replied. "I should have warned you they were hot sooner. Are you sure you are okay?" She was still worried about him, but she was glad that the others had finally left.

Glancing over to the spot where the pies had unceremoniously landed, she sighed. "I'd best get that cleaned up before it stains the floor." Grabbing a few rags and dampening them in the water, Cardella carried them over to the mess that used to be her freshly baked pies. Her face fell a bit, though she tried to hide it. She'd spent quite a bit of time on them, and now...**oh well,** she told herself

Feeling more than a bit guilty, Galwen grabbed a rag and went to help her clean the mess. At least the juice was now hiding the soup stains from his earlier disaster. Now that had been hot! He shuddered thinking about it.

The girl--he couldn't remember her name--had been in the candidate's class on the days he remembered to go. She was the one earnestly taking notes and hanging on E'naer's every word. But what the bloody shards was her name?

"Here, let me help," he said. "My name's actually not Fumblefingers, it's Galwen."

Cardella looked up at him with a kind smile. "Thank you." She cocked her head a bit to the side and suddenly her smile widened. "I've seen you in class, haven't I? Galwen. Now I have a name to put to the face. I'm Cardella." She turned her attention back to the remnants of her pies with a bit of a sigh. Soon her rags were full of the sweet plum juices. Rising, Cardella carried them over to the wash basin. "I think we're going to have to mop up the rest of it. I don't think rags will work."

"Yeah, I think I may have been to one or two of the classes," he said with a shrug, picking up the mop as he talked. "How are you doing? Living in the Weyr, I mean."

"I'm adjusting," Cardella responded as she finished wringing out the rags. She turned back, and her face broke into a large smile when she saw that Galwen had taken up the task of mopping. "How long have you lived here?"

"All my life, my da's G'waran. If you see that fellow over there," and he pointed out of the kitchen to a table in the corner, "that short man with the pint, that's his weyrmate." He for one was glad of drunken bronze riders; their song had prevented T'bel from noticing the commotion in the kitchen and sending for his father. It was bad enough having Halgalla hover over him like the smallest babe, but if his da had gotten involved as well!

He glanced over to the only slightly shorter candidiate. "How about you? Where are you from?"

So he'd lived here all his life. His father was even a rider with an...interesting...partner. Cardella knew so little about life at the Weyr, but this was something she was learning to adjust to.

"My father was the holder at Three Mounds. It's a very small hold. Most people have not heard of it. He allowed me to study at the Bakercraft Hall, which is where I was searched by a blue-rider. Life here is very different," she added.

He grinned at that. "I suppose so. More freedom certainly. But that's not a bad thing, is it?"

"No, not necessarily," Cardella replied with a hint of a smile. She'd been learning a bit more about those freedoms since she'd arrived.

"Have you stood at a hatching before? Since you've lived here all your life? I'm still having a hard time imagining what it will be like."

"Never Standing but I've watched them loads of times," he said, putting the mop back in it's place. "What would you like to know?" He gestered to her to walk with him as he talked.

Cardella shrugged as she walked with him. "I don't know really. I've listened to everything we've been taught, but I just cannot imagine what it will really be like. What happens when you don't Impress? I know we've been taught that's normal, but do the others treat you differently?"

"Erm..." That same worry had been consuming him, not Impressing, spending years unwanted on the Sands. To change the subject, he asked, "what about a gold egg? Wouldn't that be something for the new Queen? It'd be good luck too. Do you have your heart set on any particuliar colour?"

Cardella shrugged a bit, "I don't think there are as many options for girls as there are for boys. The golden queens are magnificent, but I couldn't imagine one choosing me." She turned and looked at him. "I mean, what would make me special enough for the most glorious of all dragons to think I was worth? I expect, _if_ I impress it would be a green. They are small and dainty, but so swift and fast. What about you Galwen? There seem to be many more options for you? If you could have _any_ color at all, what would you like?"

"It's really not like that. All the straight boys get the browns and the bronzes." The boy shrugged. "And I've never been the type that's going to get one of them, if you know what I mean." He grinned at her, before adding, "and why not the gold for you? Everyone in the kitchens seems to think the world of you; you're the star pupil in our classes; and you didn't rip my head off when I dropped that tray of pies, so why not?"

Cardella gave Galwen a smile when he spoke of his choices. She had learned since coming here to the Weyr that life was different and some of her ideals from before no longer fit anymore. Of course, she hadn't realized how all the male dragons chose their mates, as she had been so focused on learning more about the only two female dragons.

"I think you'll make a great rider, Galwen," she replied. Then, she pondered his question, "I don't know really. I guess I just never imagined that someone like me," her hands indicated herself, "would ever be chosen to ride the marvelous golden dragons. I think they would choose someone who was brave and bold." She turned to him and shrugged, "I'm not really like that."

Her eyes misted over a bit though as she added, "Don't get me wrong. I think it would be magnificent to ride atop a golden queen. But, why would one choose me? I'm just a lowly baker. I'm not really special in anyway."

"Speaking of, we'd better grap some food before it's all gone." He went to a kettle hanging over the fire, pouring two cups of Klah before indicating with a nod of his head towards the giant bowel that was almost empty of strew. After getting two bowls of it, he handed her one and a cup of klah before leading the way to a quiet seat in the coner of the kitchen.

Settling down on a bench and leaving the chair for her, he said, "y'know, it's not like that around here. There's no Rank, like what the Holds and Halls have. And dragons don't care much for them anyway. So why not 'just' a lowely baker for a queen? As long as you're not a bully, or cruel, you've got as good a chance as the Lord Holder's or Weyrwoman's daugher! I've seen loads of hatchings were the well bred are left standing and some abused child of a drudge walks off with a bronze."

He smiled at her, adding, "when we say there's more freedoms in the Weyrs, it's not just in the obvious places that Holders like to think of."

Cardella thanked him for the food, and sat across from him. She hadn't even realized how hungry she really was until that moment. She pondered what he said. Could _she_ be chosen to ride a gold dragon?

"I honestly hadn't really considered the possibility, but Galwen, you've made me believe that anything is possible!" She smiled brightly at him, even as she imagined what it might be like to soar through the skies on the back of one of the golden queens that had so frightened her by their size when she'd first arrived. She chuckled to herself a bit at that thought.

"I would be happy just to be chosen," she told him, "that any dragon would think me worthy. I wouldn't care how big they were, or what color they were. Just to know that I was chosen. Me," she looked down at herself, "they say the dragons know many things. I wonder what they will think of me when I'm actually on those sands."

Galwen smiled. "All they're thinking on the sands is 'fed me!' Don't worry, as long as you don't get in the way of one that wants the girl behind you and_not_you, you'll be okay out there."

He blew to cool his stew before adding, "are your family coming to the Hatching?"

Cardella pondered his last question. "I don't know really. Our little Hold is not all that close. I'm sure they would come if they could, but I think it would be hard for them to leave the Hold for long and I hear that sometimes it's hard to predict exactly when the eggs will hatch."

"Ah bliss, no parents around to nag you, eh?" He smiled at her. "I wouldn't know what that feels like."

Cardella chuckled a bit at that thought. She missed her family, but hadn't really thought of it as no one around to nag her.

"I really should be getting back to the last of my duties, Galwen. I've enjoyed our chat, a lot."

Last updated on the October 1st 2010

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Why Not the Gold?