Things are Changing

Writers: AL, Vix
Date Posted: 9th April 2008

Characters: Vanea, Neata, Neana
Description: Neata tells her mother, Vanea, of her dissatisfaction with her life and her possible solution.
Location: Emerald Falls Hold
Date: month 9, day 6 of Turn 4

"The kitchen was a nightmare today" Neata heaved a heavy, dramatic sigh, placing the back of her hand against her forehead in a mock faint. Then she let it drop to her side. "I think I'm going to have to sleep for about a sevenday."

"Sorry," Vanea flashed a quick smile at her daughter but went back to dusting the shelves in the common room of their quarters. "You can sleep after we've had dinner, but only until tomorrow." "How about three days?" Neata continued her dramatics and fell into a chair, heaving an overemphasized moan.

The girl's mother shook her head. "If you sleep for even one entire day, I'll need to find someone else to do your share of work in the kitchen and that will make more work for me. Three days is unthinkable." "A day then! I'll give you my first born!" Neata leaned forward and clasped her hands in a pleading gesture. "I'll give you my second born too!" The girl then wrinkled her nose, evidently deciding to stop with the dramatics. "I guess I'll just deal with a regular night's sleep." She paused for a moment, picking at her dress, then stated softly, "I hate working in the kitchens."

The smile disappeared from Vanea's face, though she continued to dust, turned away from her daughter. "Would you prefer a shift or two in laundry or cleaning?" "No." The girl shifted for a moment. Neata honestly wasn't sure how her mother was going to take this. She had a feeling she knew what the answer was but she had to try. She took a deep breath, then spit out quickly, "I want to apprentice. I want to apprentice to the Harper Hall."

"Girls don't craft," her mother told her, still not looking at her. "It just isn't done." "But the harper hall has started to accept girls." Neata turned around and leaned over the arm of the chair, her eyes pleading. "K'san said he'd be willing to take me there."

Vanea turned to her in shock. "You've tried to make arrangements for this? With a dragonrider? What were you thinking? You belong to the Hold, not a Hall." "I just asked if he'd be willing." Well, that wasn't _quite_ the entire truth. Neata hadn't mentioned K'san to her mother before, and with good reason. If Vanea found out about her relationship with K'san, well, Neata wasn't sure she'd like the consequences. "Mom, please. I really want to do this. I feel like I can do a lot more with my life than scrubbing pots and pans in the kitchen."

"I'd be careful about saying that," her mother told her. "There are many who are content to wash pots all of their lives, and many more who do that task as well as they can to work their way to better jobs. As to speaking to a dragonrider – why would you do that? What will people think if they see you chatting to one of _them_?" Vanea's own experience with dragonriders was limited and she had always found them to be quite courteous, but people did talk.

"I just asked him a question." Neat leaned back, sitting in the chair upon her knees. "And maybe some people are perfectly happy with washing pots all their lives, but I'm not. I'm meant for something else. Something better! Please, Mom. I could apprentice for a turn and if it doesn't work out, I'd come right back and not complain."

"No." The headwoman ran a hand through her hair, formulating a reply in her frustration. When she spoke again, her words were slow and deliberate. "I should have arranged a marriage for you, should have seen to your future before now. I'll ask around and find a match for you right away." "But I don't _want_ to get married. Not that way." Neata climbed down from the chair and approached her mother, taking her gently by the arm. "Please, mom, just give me a chance. If it doesn't work out, I'll come back and marry whomever you want me to. I won't complain, I won't say a word. I just want to try this. It's important to me."

Vanea pulled her arm away and addressed her daughter in exasperation. "Don't you realize that such a course would make you completely unmarriageable – at least to any desirable type of husband." "Not if I kept myself marriageable. And I would do that, I swear!"

The mother shook her head. "Any association with a craft would lead many to see you as unmarriageable. It would lead them to believe that you do not know your role as a wife." Neata opened her mouth then closed it, her shoulders sagging in defeat. She wanted to persist, but knew it wasn't possible. "Fine." Her word was short and clipped and she turned away, headed toward the sleeping chambers. "I'm going to bed."

"I remember when women were crafters." The voice came from the corner of the common room, where Neana rocked back and forth in her chair. "My mother was a harper." "Not now, Mother," Vanea told her. "Neata's situation is different." Neata stopped and turned toward her grandmother. She slowly closed the distance between the two and stared at her. "Your mother...my great grandmother was a harper?"

Neana turned her eyes to her granddaughter, her eyes seeking the young woman in recognition. "Of course. One of the last of her kind." She turned away, staring straight ahead of her. "The world changed and there were no more." "But there are now." Neata turned back to her mother. "And there will be more. I could be one of them.' "Yes, but there are few of them and they're frowned upon." Vanea clasped the dusting cloth in both hands, wringing it in frustration.

Neana's voice interrupted, singing quietly.
"Once we were crafters, but now all has changed:
The plague came upon us, the world rearranged.
Now we've new duties, a more important call, One that requires us to give our all.
We bear the children, we rear them right 'Tis our role in the current plight." The older woman glanced up. "She wrote that and sang it to me to let me know that harpering was not open to me." "It's not fair. Women should be able to choose. I can still bear children and be a crafter." Neata crossed her arms over her breast. "The plague is gone, that was then, this is now. Things are changing again."

Before Vanea could reply, Neana's voice chimed in, now with a an annoyed and child-like tone. "Could you two stop arguing? When's dinner?" Neata sighed and rubbed her forehead. "I'm not hungry. I'm just going to go to bed."

The headwoman sighed. "Suit yourself, but denying yourself food won't solve anything." The young girl didn't say anything. Inwardly, her thoughts were racing. Her own great grandmother had been a harper! If anything, it gave her hope. Surely, there must be a way...

Last updated on the April 9th 2008

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Things are Changing