Post by Nihla on Jul 10, 2012 14:53:20 GMT -8
It could be said that Nihla was “privileged”. After all, she was part of the group that came in with the first tithe on the new road between Cliff-side and Rainbow Mists Weyr. Of course, Nihla did not see it that way. Coming into a new place, practically nameless, only a laundry list of menial jobs as her qualifications was hardly something to celebrate. She had insisted on walking most of the way. It made her seem strong, stronger than both the men and the women, who usually rode on the carts. The southern heat did not make it easy. She kept her arms plastered to her sides in order to hide the dark patches of sweat on her nice white blouse, though she was sure that at least some of it showed anyway. It rankled. Her hair frizzed in the humidity, though she tried her best to keep it in its delicate and interwoven braids. At least it could be said that no one else noticed these issues. No one was really noticing her at all. Well, at least these were a lot of people she would likely not see again. Unlike her, most would be going back with their carts. Nihla was one of the few who were staying. A transfer. She had her fill of the Seahold and its stagnancy. The Weyr was a fresh start. A new beginning. Where else but a Weyr to go from a nameless nobody to a person who would be sung about by Harpers for centuries to come? Oh, she would start out very near the bottom, but she was used to that. Here though she was certain that the ladder had many rungs, and she could climb them all. She would climb as high as she could go. She was Nihla, after all. What could even hope to stop her? An abusive family, kidnappers, and heaps of bad luck hadn’t yet. What chance did anything else have? A broody queen could be staring her down, teeth bared, and she would probably just pop that gold right on the end of her nose. Though Nihla was not fond of violence, she knew it had its place. The Weyr loomed in the distance. Finally, they were almost there.
The night of the Hatching feast, Nihla brought up platter after platter, took away plate after plate. She would have been annoyed by being a server on any other night, but this was a very special occasion indeed. Not that she cared much about the Hatching (though it was interesting, even if she had to leave early to start the food preparations), but rather the fact that the entire Weyr and many guests turned out for it. Being a server put Nihla in a unique position. It was like hiding away at Cliff-side again, able to see everyone, but no one paid attention to the server girl. She caught the fringes of important conversations. She saw all the important people- all of them. Their names, positions, and (for a few of them, anyway) dragon’s color were filed away in her neat little mind for future reference. One slightly inebriated Harper journeyman remarked to her that it was a shame that she couldn’t enjoy the festivities, with him or otherwise. She smiled kindly at him, gave him a glass of water, and glided away with a twitching sneer. One wineheaded moron could not ruin her night, however. This was a rare and glorious opportunity, and like all opportunities, Nihla took them enthusiastically. Having been assigned to the kitchens probably was the best first assignment she could have hoped for. She would likely eventually be moved to somewhere else if and when her skills were evaluated. She had a good mind for managing storage and supplies, though she might get stuck in cleaning, which would be less than ideal. For now, though, she would relish her newfound luck, and make sure she knew everyone of importance. Unfortunately, in a Weyr, that was almost every dragonrider. The folks were practically incestuous, and their dragons definitely were. Even the lowest Greenrider could have an effect on the policy making if they bothered the Weyrwoman in just the right way. She had a lot to do tonight between serving and learning, and only a few hours in which to do it.
“I don’t see a surname on this,” the guard said, checking over her papers meticulously just in case he missed it.
“You would be correct in that, sir,” Nihla said mildly. “After my family disappeared, I never really did pick up another name.” The guard looked up at her with one arched eyebrow.
“Disappeared?”
“Yes, a terrible tragedy. It is something I would rather not get into at the moment. I am worn and it is an… emotional tale.” The guard’s look softened just a little.
“Well, since you don’t have any other name, I’m putting you down as Cliffborn, if you don’t mind. We need something for our records, and I’m pretty sure you can put it down with Archives to change it.”
Nihla nodded thoughtfully. “Thank you. If I come up with something better, I’ll certainly let Archives know.” She gave the man a calculated tired smile. His look softened completely. He gestured behind himself at the great stone archway.
“I hope you enjoy becoming one of the family, Miss Nihla Cliffborn. If you don’t mind me calling you that.” He grinned at her, and she had to admit it was a bit infectious. Her next smile was slightly less calculated than usual.
“Not at all, not at all. I am sure I will see you around.”
“I’m sure you will, Miss Nihla. Just go on inside, past the hatching grounds, big doors next to the ledge. You really can’t miss it. Go on to the left, and there will be an office down the hall past the meeting rooms. It’s pretty easy to miss, but just report there and they’ll get you all set up. Get you your rooms, assignments, all that. I’m sure you’ll love it here- I do.”
“I’m sure I will too,” she said with a certainty the origin of which he would never be able to correctly place.
The Feast now officially over, the serving staff sat down to their own meal. They did not get just leftovers- there was a little meal set aside just for them. It would be unfair to leave them out of the tasty dishes too, considering all the work they got done to make sure everything ran smoothly. Their laughter was easy, and the food good. Plenty of wine went around too, though Nihla abstained. She rubbed at her wrists thoughtfully and kept up polite conversation with her neighbors. After the excitement of the feast, it was nice to just be able to sit down and relax a bit, although façades must be maintained. The food was quite good, and the company was not terrible. For a moment, she may have even allowed herself to enjoy the moment. When the time came to do the dishes from their mini-feast, however, it was easy to tell that many wanted to slack. Many had excused themselves before their feast was over, probably in an effort to avoid this part- the cleanup. Nihla, on the other hand, would never slack off so. She stayed until the final dish was put away neatly. One of the cooks had stayed throughout the whole ordeal, though it was obvious she was quite tired.
“You know, new girl, you sure do work hard. A lot harder than a lot of these louts, anyway,” the cook chuckled. Nihla wiped off her hands and threw the cloth into the wash bin.
“Of course. And my name is Nihla, you know. You may call me that.”
The cook waved her hand in the air. “Yes, yes, I know. I know.”
“Anyway, I can’t imagine not working as hard as I can. It seems… wrong, to not do all you can.” It was honesty. Not doing all she could, and looking better than those around her, undermined her entire purpose.
“Don’t work yourself too hard,” the cook warned, “or you’ll burn yourself out.”
Nihla dramatically put a hand to her chest. “Why, never! I do know my limits. I wouldn’t work beyond them.”
The older woman nodded. “That’s good. You’re young, but I think you have a good sense of things. Between you and me,” she said, leaning in, “I think you’ll go far.”
That was, of course, the ultimate compliment to Nihla. She could not help but blush, just a little. “Thank you. I certainly hope so!”
The cook looked thoughtful for a moment. “It’s strange to see a young one come that wasn’t Searched by the riders. Most of the youth around here grew up in the Weyrs or grew out of Candidacy.”
Nihla smiled ruefully. “Well, we can’t all be dragonriders. If we were, how would Pern even turn? You need the Weyrfolk just as much as the riders or the riders would starve. Right?”
“Quite right at that!” The cook laughed. “Well, I’m going to head to bed. You should probably do the same. It was a long night, but that doesn’t make the morning any later.”
“Too true,” Nihla replied. “I’ll see you in the morning.” As the cook walked away, Nihla could not help but notice that the night had gone surprisingly well. Perhaps coming to the Weyr was the right choice after all. As she straightened her skirt and took her own leave, she smiled to herself. There was a lot of room for growth here, and these people seemed a little more acutely aware of her talents. She just had to make herself stand out more. It would likely be a process of years, but Rainbow Mists had definitely given her the opportunity to become a name everyone would know.
The night of the Hatching feast, Nihla brought up platter after platter, took away plate after plate. She would have been annoyed by being a server on any other night, but this was a very special occasion indeed. Not that she cared much about the Hatching (though it was interesting, even if she had to leave early to start the food preparations), but rather the fact that the entire Weyr and many guests turned out for it. Being a server put Nihla in a unique position. It was like hiding away at Cliff-side again, able to see everyone, but no one paid attention to the server girl. She caught the fringes of important conversations. She saw all the important people- all of them. Their names, positions, and (for a few of them, anyway) dragon’s color were filed away in her neat little mind for future reference. One slightly inebriated Harper journeyman remarked to her that it was a shame that she couldn’t enjoy the festivities, with him or otherwise. She smiled kindly at him, gave him a glass of water, and glided away with a twitching sneer. One wineheaded moron could not ruin her night, however. This was a rare and glorious opportunity, and like all opportunities, Nihla took them enthusiastically. Having been assigned to the kitchens probably was the best first assignment she could have hoped for. She would likely eventually be moved to somewhere else if and when her skills were evaluated. She had a good mind for managing storage and supplies, though she might get stuck in cleaning, which would be less than ideal. For now, though, she would relish her newfound luck, and make sure she knew everyone of importance. Unfortunately, in a Weyr, that was almost every dragonrider. The folks were practically incestuous, and their dragons definitely were. Even the lowest Greenrider could have an effect on the policy making if they bothered the Weyrwoman in just the right way. She had a lot to do tonight between serving and learning, and only a few hours in which to do it.
“I don’t see a surname on this,” the guard said, checking over her papers meticulously just in case he missed it.
“You would be correct in that, sir,” Nihla said mildly. “After my family disappeared, I never really did pick up another name.” The guard looked up at her with one arched eyebrow.
“Disappeared?”
“Yes, a terrible tragedy. It is something I would rather not get into at the moment. I am worn and it is an… emotional tale.” The guard’s look softened just a little.
“Well, since you don’t have any other name, I’m putting you down as Cliffborn, if you don’t mind. We need something for our records, and I’m pretty sure you can put it down with Archives to change it.”
Nihla nodded thoughtfully. “Thank you. If I come up with something better, I’ll certainly let Archives know.” She gave the man a calculated tired smile. His look softened completely. He gestured behind himself at the great stone archway.
“I hope you enjoy becoming one of the family, Miss Nihla Cliffborn. If you don’t mind me calling you that.” He grinned at her, and she had to admit it was a bit infectious. Her next smile was slightly less calculated than usual.
“Not at all, not at all. I am sure I will see you around.”
“I’m sure you will, Miss Nihla. Just go on inside, past the hatching grounds, big doors next to the ledge. You really can’t miss it. Go on to the left, and there will be an office down the hall past the meeting rooms. It’s pretty easy to miss, but just report there and they’ll get you all set up. Get you your rooms, assignments, all that. I’m sure you’ll love it here- I do.”
“I’m sure I will too,” she said with a certainty the origin of which he would never be able to correctly place.
The Feast now officially over, the serving staff sat down to their own meal. They did not get just leftovers- there was a little meal set aside just for them. It would be unfair to leave them out of the tasty dishes too, considering all the work they got done to make sure everything ran smoothly. Their laughter was easy, and the food good. Plenty of wine went around too, though Nihla abstained. She rubbed at her wrists thoughtfully and kept up polite conversation with her neighbors. After the excitement of the feast, it was nice to just be able to sit down and relax a bit, although façades must be maintained. The food was quite good, and the company was not terrible. For a moment, she may have even allowed herself to enjoy the moment. When the time came to do the dishes from their mini-feast, however, it was easy to tell that many wanted to slack. Many had excused themselves before their feast was over, probably in an effort to avoid this part- the cleanup. Nihla, on the other hand, would never slack off so. She stayed until the final dish was put away neatly. One of the cooks had stayed throughout the whole ordeal, though it was obvious she was quite tired.
“You know, new girl, you sure do work hard. A lot harder than a lot of these louts, anyway,” the cook chuckled. Nihla wiped off her hands and threw the cloth into the wash bin.
“Of course. And my name is Nihla, you know. You may call me that.”
The cook waved her hand in the air. “Yes, yes, I know. I know.”
“Anyway, I can’t imagine not working as hard as I can. It seems… wrong, to not do all you can.” It was honesty. Not doing all she could, and looking better than those around her, undermined her entire purpose.
“Don’t work yourself too hard,” the cook warned, “or you’ll burn yourself out.”
Nihla dramatically put a hand to her chest. “Why, never! I do know my limits. I wouldn’t work beyond them.”
The older woman nodded. “That’s good. You’re young, but I think you have a good sense of things. Between you and me,” she said, leaning in, “I think you’ll go far.”
That was, of course, the ultimate compliment to Nihla. She could not help but blush, just a little. “Thank you. I certainly hope so!”
The cook looked thoughtful for a moment. “It’s strange to see a young one come that wasn’t Searched by the riders. Most of the youth around here grew up in the Weyrs or grew out of Candidacy.”
Nihla smiled ruefully. “Well, we can’t all be dragonriders. If we were, how would Pern even turn? You need the Weyrfolk just as much as the riders or the riders would starve. Right?”
“Quite right at that!” The cook laughed. “Well, I’m going to head to bed. You should probably do the same. It was a long night, but that doesn’t make the morning any later.”
“Too true,” Nihla replied. “I’ll see you in the morning.” As the cook walked away, Nihla could not help but notice that the night had gone surprisingly well. Perhaps coming to the Weyr was the right choice after all. As she straightened her skirt and took her own leave, she smiled to herself. There was a lot of room for growth here, and these people seemed a little more acutely aware of her talents. She just had to make herself stand out more. It would likely be a process of years, but Rainbow Mists had definitely given her the opportunity to become a name everyone would know.