Excited! (Caden/desert weyrlings)

[Kisha-Ra]

It was odd for Mo’rya, who still felt like plain old Mort deep down, to be without his dragon after months of being all but attached to the side of a bronze dragon who Mo’rya now realised was destined to be small his entire life. Well, as a dragonrider, or rather a weyrling rider he was never technically alone, a part of Epifayrmuth was always with him, but right now it was a sleeping and silent part. Apparently the young dragon was taking advantage of his bonded not being around to catch up on his sleep. Even more technically than that Mo’rya’s firelizard was at the gather somewhere, but there were enough other firelizards and not a few children that Ghost had decided needed watching more than her bonded.

However alone he might currently be, Mo’rya still had a bright outlook on life, reflected today in his choice of a lightweight royal blue shirt, touched with careful gold embroidery, which was nicely highlighted by the blue glass beads and gold ribbons that wrapped around the single braid of his hair until it was all but hidden from sight; his gather day best of course! Mo’rya loved gathers, so many things so many colours, so many people! Some of them he recognised as former occupants of Selenitas, but he hadn’t seen Darya among them, and in any case he didn’t have Epi along with him to show off, which kind of defeated the object.

Well Mo’rya decided with a casual look around, there were bound to be whole bunches of people who needed some company, he was sure he could find one or maybe even two or three of them if he looked. With that thought the weyrling looked around, and spotted none other than his classmate Caden standing all alone. Naturally the only thing to do was home in on the obviously lonely boyish girl in a flurry of colour and a merry tinkle of glass beads and grab her by the hand in order to tow the unfortunate girl off to look at the stalls, or try at least, Mo’rya was a slightly built youth and Caden was somewhat taller than him. ‘Hello Caden! You shouldn’t be all alone out here, so you’re not anymore! You have me, aren’t you glad? You know you are deep down. What do you want to look at?’ Mo’rya happily chattered away while making the attempt to drag the goldweyrling behind him.

[Ruby]

Caden was wildly uncomfortable. She'd been to her share of gathers in her time, but always with Smath in her head and wingmates at her side. She'd diced, and even had a drink occasionally, something she never did otherwise. Dancing she'd avoided, but she would have avoided that even if she truly were the boy she pretended to be. Now, instead of barely passable leathers and a slightly more formal shirt than usual (typical Caden gather-wear from three or four turns ago), she couldn't help but fiddle with the Goldweyrling's knot pinned to her shoulder. Apparently, the knot came with far higher expectations as far as wardrobe, which the Headwoman had seen to. Soft, 'figure'-hugging hide pants (pants vs. skirts was the only battle Caden had won) tucked into boots so shiny Caden could nearly see her face in them, and a richly embroidered grey blouse attempted to hide the fact that her chest was still as boyish as a 10-turn-old's. The woman had pushed bangles and rings and all manner of shiny things on the girl, but Caden had talked her down to a simple torc... well, almost. Good thing she had a private room in the Weyrling Barracks, as there was a fortune stashed under her pillow.

But she still felt obvious and exposed, and was convinced it would hardly be better if she were naked. She'd been searching vainly for Ashlyn or another Weyrling, or someone - even Armind would have been a nice diversion, or at least cover. No no, don't look at the confused boy in the corner, dressed as a Goldrider. The clearly girlish shirt didn't help her feel any better. What on Pern was she supposed to do? Sel, perched on her shoulder, wasn't much help, chittering and fluttering and people watching as she was. Nitrath was... asleep. Even more useful. Caden knew she could have the gold up in about half a second if she wanted, but she would let the dragon rest, for now.

Deliverance came in a very unexpected package. Mo'rya, the only current Bronzeweyrling, and someone Caden was both intrigued by and petrified of. She was secretly convinced that Epifayrmuth and Nitrath had conspired against the both of them, swapping Impressions at the last minute - Mo'rya made about as good of a Bronzerider as she made Goldrider. So far, anyway. He was young, maybe he would grow into his own. Maybe.

For now, though, he was all beads and flashy clothes and excitement. The Goldweyrling's dour expression lightened slightly, although her shoulders remained tight, her posture awkward. "Hey, Mo'rya," she greeted him, unconcerned that he talked right over her. Attempting to answer his questions seemed mostly futile, so she waited until he took a breath before making an attempt. "You've no idea," she said, adding a little smile to make herself look a little more glad than not at all. "And... I... Uh..." She'd never thought about what she'd want to do at a gather, not now. Gambling was her default, but she had almost no marks. "Um... Smithcrafter's stall?" Not that she could afford anything there, but maybe there was a knife she could save for. Something.

[Kisha-Ra]

Caden didn’t look noticeably pleased to see him but Mo’rya had never let a little thing like that stop him in the past, and he certainly wasn’t about to start now. ‘I knew you would be.’ He replied to her claim cheerfully, not bothering to try and work out if the goldweyrling was practicing her sarcasm or not, either way she was stuck with Mo’rya for a while. Smithcraft stall? The boy made a face that Caden probably wouldn’t be able to see since he was still out in front. He was more hoping for one of the stalls where he could acquire some pretty bits and pieces to embellish his hair, clothing, and jewellery with, and he needed more ribbons and embroidery threads too, and nearly all of his needles had vanished too, where was he going to get those from?

Though he was less than enthusiastic about the destination Mo’rya changed course to pull Caden toward the smith’s stall. To his inexpert eye it was less than interesting with all the merchandise thoughtfully stored out of the way of curious and accident prone people and the only shiny things around being polished steel. Plus most of the things on display were well out of Mo’rya’s price range. Maybe when he actually learned to fight he’d save for a better knife than his belt knife.

To keep himself from looking too bored with the stall Mo’rya turned slightly to look at Caden, and made a face. ‘Who chose your outfit?’ He asked without any pause for forethought. ‘That top is really not your style at all.’ He hadn’t really noticed how out of place the blouse looked on Caden before, probably because the whole of her had looked out of place at the gather, although she still looked awkward now she didn’t look as awkward as she had alone. No a plain shirt, maybe with a touch of coloured detail would be much better, maybe with a simple pendant at the neckline… For a moment Mo’rya looked like he was about to dash off and find something for Caden to wear that would fit his idea of what suited her but he remembered just before he took off that Caden had wanted to come over here in the first place and settled back down with a slightly embarrassed look. ‘Um, sorry, I just got a bit too enthusiastic there. Apparently it’s a problem I have.’ After a short pause, which Mo’rya speant looking around he found he was unable to keep quiet. ‘Sooo, do you like anything?’ He asked curiously, though he found it hard to see how anyone could get interested in weaponry.

[Ruby]

She wasn't being sarcastic, and while Caden look about as relieved as it was possible for her to look, she still wasn't quite sure how Mo'rya of all people made her less conspicuous. Still, it was better than some Wasteland Bronzerider trying to cozy up to her or some nonsense. Not that any of them would, thank Faranth. Either way, she let him herd her along, the beginnings of a smile pulling one side of her mouth up. There were too many people here, her clothes were uncomfortable, she felt exposed and honestly a touch scared, given the Weyr's current climate - but on the other hand, being around Mo'rya was like getting a glimpse into what her life would be like if it hadn't been, well, her life. More normal.

His enthusiasm was kind of infectious. Maybe she could manage to have fun, after all. Faranth knew she wouldn't be having much of that in the next few years.

The Smithcraft stall was exactly as she expected, although the short, scary man behind the counter gave her a very disapproving look when he spotted her knot. Picking up the simplest, plainest dagger she could find - almost certainly the only thing she could afford - she examined it and tested the weight, eying the stallkeeper sideways. He did not look pleased. She was so focused on figuring out what was wrong with him that she nearly missed Mor'ya's question. Nearly. "Uh - Headwoman," she said, putting the dagger down and picking up a slightly more ornate version. "Goldweyrlings are 'expected to uphold the image of the Weyr to the outside world, can't have you looking like a scruffy pickpocket'" Caden quoted, making a face.

Mor'ya's sudden attempt to leave had her raising her eyebrows, preparing to bolt after him. She wasn't about to lose him now. "Don't look like a problem to me," she said, dry tone meant to make a joke of the statement. Whether he took it that way or took it as judgment remained to be seen; Caden still didn't quite have the hang of true humor. In response to his next question, she held up the dagger she'd been examining, calling over to the shopkeeper, "How much?" The man just shook his head, grumbling, "Not for you."

Caden pulled her eyebrows together, trying to figure out what, exactly, was going on. "This one?" she asked, holding up the first dagger she'd looked at. The Master shook his head again, turning away from the pair of Weyrlings. "Uh." Caden shifted a little, not understanding what, exactly, he found unsuitable about her, but clearly there was something. "What'd you want to look at so bad?" she asked the Bronzeweyrling, turning her back on the smith. He didn't want her marks? None for him.

[Kisha-Ra]

Mo’rya gave the stallkeeper a suspicious look out of the corner of his eye, why was he looking that? It was always possible that the smith had some perfectly good reason to scowl, or someone had just come up behind him and given him a wedgie but he did seem to be looking at them. ‘Maybe you look like a pickpocket anyway, or I do,’ he muttered low enough that (hopefully) the smith wouldn’t hear him, ‘because we’re certainly getting an odd look off that guy.’ Mo’rya wrinkled his nose at the headwoman’s choice, he supposed it was a nice enough shirt but it was fighting a losing battle on Caden, to be honest sometimes he wondered if there hadn’t been some mistake that involved Epifayrmuth and Nitrath because Caden looked hell of a lot more like a bronzerider than he did. In fact apart from the small detail of her gender she’d be an ideal bronzerider; that was a worrying thought.

Mo’rya cocked his head to one side, considering the statement. ‘Well I suppose I don’t have a problem with being enthusiastic, but people do tend to see it as a problem when I run off to do things like that.’ The boy took the statement seriously, and responded as such, then stood around twiddling his braid (causing just a few clattering sounds) while she attempted to engage the stallkeeper’s attention, a futile effort it seemed. Well he couldn’t have been doing much business if that was how he treated customers!

‘Hmm?’ Mo’rya stared after the rude old man, trying to fathom his behaviour. ‘Oh everything!’ Came the enthusiastic reply as soon as his attention had stopped wandering. ‘I need some more ribbons, nothing goes with Epifayrmuth properly, and I’m almost out of my favourite coloured embroidery threads. I wanted to look at miners stall too, I know I won’t be able to get anything really good but they normally have some coloured chips at a low, or sort of low, price. I’d really like to see the jewellery stall too although I probably won’t be able to afford anything, besides I like to make my own stuff, I wonder if they have any silver wire I could afford, or even copper…’ The bronzerider’s voice trailed off as he watched the rude smith interact with another group of customers. He didn’t like women? Strange attitude for someone running a stall really but Mo’rya could help Caden out with that…

‘I think we should stop by the weavers stall next Cad’n.’ Mo’rya raised his voice a bit and contracted Caden’s name up in the first way that occurred to him, if she went along with it she could buy whatever she liked here, providing the annoying man heard that was. ‘I agree you won the bet by trying to do business with my knots on and we can switch back now, but that shirt doesn’t suit you at all at least I managed to borrow something I could live with. You’ll look strange wearing that with bronze knots.’ Mo’rya attempted to clue Caden in to what he was thinking with a wink.

[Ruby]

Glancing down at herself, Caden leaned forward, lowering her voice. "Must just look always suspicious," she murmured, "Fanciness or otherwise." She meant herself, of course, although to be honest Mo'rya's attempt to bolt couldn't have helped their case much. Regardless, the man didn't seem to want to sell to them, and Caden was about to give up - Ribbons and shiny jewelry and such had never interested her, but maybe she could learn something about being a better girl from this odd boy? - when Mo'rya raised his voice.

It was a good thing Mo'rya hadn't gone for the most obvious contraction - C'den, of course - as that almost certainly would have broken Caden's brain. As it was, she had to say "Huh?" and look at him funny for a second before what he was doing dawned on her. Kid was smarter than he looked; she hadn't even figured out that the man wouldn't sell to women until she saw Mo'rya watching the other group. Still didn't think of herself as a woman, despite plenty of evidence to the contrary, and honestly, hearing an honorific that was hers was surprisingly comforting. Forcing a laugh that sounded at least marginally genuine, Caden reached up to un-pin her knot, then let it be when he cleverly got her out of it. "Weavers sound good, Mo- er- Moyra," she said, forcing her voice low as she had for so long and glancing back down at the knife. "That's badly balanced, anyway. Thank you, good sir," she said, touching her brow in a half salute.

The smith just gaped at the two of them as Caden took Mo'rya's arm and steered him out of the stall, getting them lost in the press as soon as possible. Drifting in the direction of the weavers, the Goldweyrling stooped a little so he could hear her over the noise. "We should just switch, honestly," she said, the tiny hint of a smile turning up the corners of her mouth. "People're already looking at me like I did something wrong. Killed the real Goldweyrling, maybe. Gotta keep up appearances and the like, y'know? Feel like you'd make a way better Goldrider than me, plenty prettier," she said. "If I pick up a better shirt at the Weavers, what'dya say, Moyra?"

[Kisha-Ra]

Mo’rya shrugged, he couldn’t see that Caden looked all that suspicious, but who knew what was going to set some of these stallholders off? They all seemed to suspect different types of people of trying to pocket their wares, although the weyrling certainly felt that trying to conceal a dagger about one’s person was far more trouble than it was worth.

Caden looked honestly confused for a moment, which wasn’t really surprising since Mo’rya hadn’t consulted her before he made up this little story to entertain the smith, however it did seem to be working as the smith returned to see if he might make a sale after all. This time it was the old crafter’s turn to be blown off, a situation which Mo’rya found most amusing even though the entire purpose of his story was defeated by it.

The bronzeweyrling allowed himself to be steered away from the stall, and manfully resisted the urge to turn around and stick his tongue out at the smith as he was leaving, between him and Caden they’d probably messed with the man’s head enough now. He was just considering asking Caden if she really wanted to go to the weaver’s stall when she beat him to speaking. Well it was an interesting idea, and Caden did look far more the part of a bronzeweyrling than he could manage. ‘Well it was sort of my idea,’ he commented thoughtfully, ‘and it was fun watching you let the air out of that smith. Really it’s a good thing Epifayrmuth gave me a name that’s easy to change, although I don’t feel that much different than I did when I was just Mort.’ Mo’rya remembered to keep his voice down as he spoke, no point in cluing half the gather into the ruse. ‘I guess I’m in.’ He concluded. ‘I just hope that no one decides we’re here to make a takeover bid on the Weyr. With you as the courageous but headstrong bronzerider, and me as your devotedly supportive queen of course.’ Mo’rya giggled, thinking as the sound of his own childish laughter reached his ears that it was a good thing his voice hadn’t started changing yet.

‘So Cad’n,’ Mo’rya started falling neatly into character as Morya the goldweyrling, who was pretty much a female Mo’rya, ‘can I pick out the colour of your new shirt? I think a dark green or blue would look good on you, or maybe a rich brown shade. Not too dark though.’ Oddly enough Mo’rya only really cared about how colours looked on when other people were wearing them, some of his own favourite shirts made his skin tone look awful and he’d just never noticed. Currently he was thinking that the right shirt might suit Cad’n and Caden with the right bits and pieces to go with it, and that a different haircut might help Caden along if she really wanted to look prettier, he wasn’t really sure what was going on in the other weyrling’s mind, but at least the feeling was probably mutual there.

[Ruby]

Caden couldn't help but suppress a gruff laugh at Mo'rya's idle chatter, especially the part about the takeover. Snatching a stick up off the ground, she sliced it back and forth, careful not to hit anyone in the back as she sashayed sideways. "Fighting thread, destroying evil, retaking the weyr, stuff like that..." she said, punctuating each item on the to do list with a slash of her fake sword. Eventually, though, she tired of her foolishness, dropping the stick to her side. "Don't feel much like a Caden either," she admitted, then added, "Did you know I was Caedenor for more than half my life?"

Of course he wouldn't have known that, and the question was mostly rhetorical. Somehow, though, her true name seemed like a fair trade for the protection of Cad'n the Bronzerider. Mor'ya might enjoy being Moyra the Goldrider, but for Caden, the idea of a man's knots on her shoulder was like a homecoming. She'd agree to just about anything if she could avoid being looked at funny for an hour. As Mo'rya became Moyra, Caden drew herself up a little taller, settling in to a much more loose, comfortable gait than the one she used as a woman. "Please. Never been much of one for colors myself, beyond leather and... well, leather."

((Done enough for me, I can add a little more if you want to keep going ^^ or they can always thread again!))