Storied Spaces

Writers: Yvonne
Date Posted: 30th March 2006

Characters: Firsa, Shanal
Description: Firsa decides that it's time to change weyrs to escape old memories, and gets a little gossip in the mean time
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 10, day 16 of Turn 3
Notes: Follows 'Who Tells the Truth?' and 'To Disctaction'

"So - how does this strike your fancy?" The assistant Headwoman,
Shanal, flung open the door with a flourish, and Firsa stepped
cautiously inside. The weyr was slightly bigger than the one she'd
lived in for turns, and it was L-shaped, which afforded a little
privacy for whoever lived there. It was closer to the outside doors
so the air coming through the vents was a little fresher, and it's
small fireplace was swept clean. Barren.

"I know it's not too much to look at now, and you can certainly
choose furniture more to your liking out of the storerooms, if you
wish..." Shanal said, then trailled off as Firsa fixed her with an
impassive look. "Uh, and the rugs. They don't need to stay. But
there's a fireplace, and a closet carved out of the stone by the bed
for you to keep your things in, if you don't like the wardrobe."

"It's... nice," the Journeywoman said guardedly. Nice, but not home.
Not her own weyr, the weyr she'd moved into when she earned her
Journeywoman's knots, the weyr she'd shared with Daremek. It was
familiar - every rough patch of stone, the shadows cast by the
tapestries and the feel of the rug beneath her feet. **But what am I
doing, if not moving on?** Daremek was gone.

She began to prowl the circumference, running a hand along the wall.
It was plastered and painted a soft creamy colour, and there were
chips here and there where previous occupants had marked the plaster.
Spinner webs hung in one corner. It never failed to amaze Firsa how
far into the Weyr spinners would come, and she often wondered what
they ate. There were already a pair of cushioned chairs by the
fireplace with a small table between them, and a sideboard behind
them that would store... what? Wine, game boards... books? She ran
her hand across the surface and left a streak of clean in the dust.

Shanal cleared her throat awkwardly. "We did come in to clean a few
days ago, but there's still some things left to be done..."

Firsa nodded, then walked over to stare at the bed. Large, and
covered in layers of blankets and sheets. Her wooden chest would be
dwarfed at the end of it, and she wasn't sure what to do with so much
space. Maybe she'd ask for a smaller bed. The promised cupboard at
one end stood closed, and Firsa pulled it open to see how much space
was inside.

But it was full. "What's this?" The Journeywoman turned to the
assistant Headwoman, who looked a little uncomfortable. "I thought
you said that this weyr was empty."

"Ah.. yes. It is. Sort of." Shanal wouldn't look her in the eye.
"Clothing will be moved out shortly."

The layers of dust... the clothes, carefully hung in the closet. Now
that she was looking for it, Firsa picked out a few other personal
touches. The empty terracotta vase, no bigger than her fist, on one
end of the sideboard. The embroidered cushions on the chairs. The
lace edges to the pillowcases ... the fact that there _were_ linens
on the bed. Small things, as if the person who lived here before
hadn't had much time to settle in. She shut the cupboard. "Why hasn't
the previous occupant taken their things? They've been gone for a
while."

Shanal cleared her throat. "Yes. Well. Sad business, that."

"Oh?" Firsa arched an eyebrow, but Shanal didn't look any more
comfortable. The Journeywoman wasn't the type to inspire confidences.

"Well.. the woman who lived here before... she vanished."

Firsa snorted, sounding like one of her runners. "Women don't just
_vanish_."

"Well, she did." Shanal said firmly. She walked over to the sideboard
and picked up the vase. "She used to work in the laundry, and then
_poof_! It's like she went /between/. There was a dragonrider who was
called in to talk to the Weyrwoman about it... I'm surprised you
haven't heard!"

"I don't hear much gossip," Firsa said with a shrug. But then, she
didn't need to hear the gossip - she'd heard it from the Weyrwoman
herself. But that didn't mean that she didn't _want_ to.

Shanal nodded, then looked down at the vase in her hand. "I guess she
and this dragonrider - the drudge, I mean, not the Weyrwoman - they'd
known each other for a while. A relationship gone sour, if you know
what I mean. And now she's suddenly gone... the Upper Caverns are
saying that she probably ran off, either with another man or because
she was heartbroken over the dragonrider, but..."

"But?"

"But people are saying that the dragonrider probably killed her,"
Shanal said in a loud whisper. She looked over her shoulder as if
someone might be able to eavesdrop, but there was only the two of
them in the abandoned weyr. "Apparently he'd beaten her before, and
he's got a hot temper. And I've heard that he'd publically said that
he'd kill her. And now she's gone missing..." Shanal shuddered
theatrically. "I can put two and two together, even if the higher
up's can't. Doesn't say much for the new Weyrwoman, if you ask me.
There's a murderer loose in the Weyr and nobody's doing a thing about
it!"

"If the Weyrwoman let him off, she'll have her reasons," Firsa said.
She walked over to the fireplace and sat in one of the chairs. They
were dusty and too soft, and the cushions smelt faintly of baking.
"Maybe his dragon vouched for him."

"Oh, pish- any dragon will go to amazing lengths to protect their
riders."

"Even lying to a gold dragon?" Firsa asked skeptically.

"I'm still not convinced," Shanal said, although she sounded a little
more unsure than she had before. "Everyone says that she's just run
off... but I'm not so sure, you know? But- oh shells, I hope this
isn't turning you off the weyr? It's a very nice little weyr -
perfect for a single Journeywoman."

A single Journeywoman. Firsa stood and brushed the dust off her
chaps. **I guess I am.** "No. I'll still take it."

Shanal looked relieved as she ushered Firsa out the door and into the
hall. Her expression was plain - if Firsa hadn't taken it, Shanal
wasn't sure if anyone else would have.

Last updated on the April 9th 2006

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