The sack slung across her chest had stopped writhing some time ago, which was an immeasurable relief to Csinda. It was full of fish, and for a while the stupid things hadn't known that they were dead, and had wriggled and struggled inside the drawstring satchel, their muscular bodies striking Csinda's bony hip as punishment for removing them from the water and ultimately killing them. She didn't feel bad for them. She and Tijuth were good at fishing, it turned out, and Csinda was too proud of their unexpected skill to feel any sort of pity for the creatures whose deaths had revealed it.Once she reached the kitchens, she was directed to a young woman standing in a well-ventilated area that still managed to reek of fish. The woman was tall and slim with light hair pulled back into a braid which dropped straight down her spine, and she was up to her elbows in fish scales so that her hands and forearms seemed almost to shimmer. Some of the scales had also made it onto her face, speckling her jawline and hairline. It was a surprise to Csinda to discover that she found the effect more than a little appealing.
"Brought you some more fish," she announced, striding up to the other woman and plonking her sack of corpses onto the table.
The woman scaling the fish looked up with a guileless smile that showed imperfect teeth and thanked Csinda.
"Could you put them in that bucket, please?" she asked, using her elbow to indicate which bucket she meant. "Unless they're fingertails. Those go in this other bucket."
It was clear which bucket she meant. Fingertails were small fish, barely a mouthful of meat, all in all, but since they were typically baked whole into pastries their diminutive size wasn't a problem. They added a savory flavor, Csinda had been informed the first time she asked why her pie was staring at her. Csinda wasn't sure about savory flavors, but she'd gotten the pie down and not hurled it back up later, so that was good enough.
Csinda loosened the drawstring holding her bag shut and peered inside, realizing only now that she'd caught a variety of fish.
"Are you only separating out fingertails?" she asked.
The question seemed to take the knife-wielding girl by surprise, as if she had completely forgotten Csinda was there in the time it took the greenrider to open her satchel. Csinda knew it had not taken her that long, and she wondered briefly if the other woman was simpleminded, and the chastised herself. What difference did it make if she was? Well, given that Csinda definitely found her attractive, it did actually make a difference, so Csinda decided she was just going to have to find out the truth.
"Oh, no. The different types are all getting separated of course, but since I seem to be the only candidate who didn't come up with a way to get out of scaling fish, I'm not bothering to separate them until I've scaled them. Fingertails don't need scaling, though, so that's why I'm keeping them separate. Once their bucket fills up, I'll bring them over to Kimmer and he'll do whatever it is he does to turn them into food."
Csinda looked at the literal heaps of dead fish surrounding the girl and her scale-silvered table and her eyes narrowed at the injustice of a single person doing the work of what was probably meant to be a three-person crew.
"You mean you're supposed to have help, but you don't because your fellow candidates made up excuses to get out of it?" she clarified as she guiltily added her fishy catch to the correct bucket.
"Mm...yes. You could put it that way. But it really is pretty awful work if you're not used to it, and I am faster at it than they are." It seemed she didn't actually see a problem with being abandoned to do a crappy job all by herself. Ordinarily, Csinda probably would've been one of the people doing the abandoning, but she genuinely couldn't see how anyone could bear to take advantage of this slender naif.
"I'll help you," she declared, edging around to the girl's side of the table.
"Oh, would you?" the younger girl breathed, her gratitude escaping her with becoming breathiness. "Thank you so much!"
Csinda sidled closer and slipped a short knife from her belt, then she reached for one of the fish she'd just brought in. It was no longer cold, nor particularly damp, and so the scaly texture was not nearly as slimy as it had been the last time she'd handled it. She took this as further evidence that she was destined for a retirement career as an angler. After a few moments considering the fish and covertly watching how her partner was going about it, Csinda turned her knife on her catch.
"So you're a candidate?" she asked. "What's your name?"
"Ara," Ara said, one hand flying to cover a flushed cheek. "I'm sorry. I should have introduced myself. I am a candidate, yes. And you're a...dragonrider?"
Shards, Ara was so cute Csinda just wanted to smoosh her face off. It was nice to know that she was a candidate, though. That meant she was very, very unlikely to be simple. She was just unbelievably...something else. Csinda really wanted to find out what. Honestly, it was a little embarrassing how difficult it was for Csinda to stop looking at Ara and admiring the obvious strength in her thin wrists and hands. Not to mention the scales sparkling on her face. There had to be something wrong with Csinda, that she found bits of dead fish speckling someone's face so attractive.
"I am," Csinda agreed, offering a hand slick with fish innards. "Csinda of green Tijuth, at your service."
Ara carefully set down her knife and gravely took Csinda's hand. Then she met the dragonrider's eyes with an obvious effort and said, "I'm very glad to meet you, Csinda."
Csinda held Ara's hand for a little bit longer than she probably needed to, and almost certainly longer than Ara might have liked, given the slime coating it. Somehow Ara had managed to keep her hands relatively slime-free. Given Ara's apparently shyness, Csinda had the feeling she would not have a lot of success pursuing her if she took things the bold, brash way she usually did. It'd probably scare her off. Fortunately, Csinda's dragon was possibly the shyest, most self-effacing creature on Pern, and so she knew how to interact with shrinking violets.
"You're just glad to have someone to help you scale fish," Csinda joked, reclaiming her hand. "But I don't think I'm doing it right..."
She held up the first fish she'd begun working on, which was slashed several ways with patches of skin and scale hanging from its flesh in a messy way that looked as if Csinda had a personal vendetta against the fish. Ara's eyes widened as she took in the damage.
"I've never seen it done that way before," Ara said diplomatically, but the scarlet spreading across her cheeks made it clear she was appalled at Csinda's incompetence and the fact that it would fall to her to correct a dragonrider. That kind of vocational awe always struck Csinda as odd, but she'd grown up in the Weyr, and holders were often odd when it came to dragons. One of Tijuth's clutchmates' riders had a nephew who was afraid of dragons.
"Like I said. I don't think I'm doing it right."
Ara made a small sound that might have been agreement, but it was almost like she swallowed it before it even escaped her lips. It was one of the most adorable noises Csinda had ever heard, particularly paired with her flaming blush.
"You just have a different approach. It's good for things to be different. But, I. Um. For me, that is. I tend to find that my mother's method works pretty well. I could show you that, if you want?" Ara was clearly close to dying from discomfort.
"That would be great," Csinda agreed. "After all, I don't want to make more work for you by making you have to fix the fish I mess up."
Ara's eyes darted to the fish Csinda was holding and a guilty expression crossed her face as she admitted, "Um. Probably I wouldn't have to do much fixing. I'm not really a cook, so I don't actually know how I would fix that fish. I'm sorry!"
"What are you apologizing for?" Csinda asked, lifting her mutilated fish to study the damage she'd done. "I'm the one who mucked it up. Let's try your mother's method, and we'll see if it works any better."
Ara nodded, biting her bottom lip hard enough that it turned white around her teeth. Was she nervous? Trying not to laugh? Csinda really wanted to know. She got the feeling that, like Tijuth, Ara had untapped depths that she showed to a chosen few, and Csinda very much wanted to be one of the elect.
Moving slowly, Ara showed Csinda how she scaled fish. She wouldn't look at Csinda's face again, nor offer any direct criticism, but Csinda found that if she listened closely there was a soft hm Ara made when Csinda was about to make a mistake. It was a little embarrassing how often Csinda heard that sound. Scaling fish didn't seem like it ought to be a difficult chore.
After Csinda had scaled perhaps half a dozen fish in silence, she decided to try talking to Ara again, though doing so meant she would slow down in her scaling. Unlike Ara, who seemed barely to be looking at what her hands were doing, Csinda actually had to concentrate. Maybe the life of an angler was not for her after all. Though, fishers didn't have to prepare the fish they caught for eating, did they? They just caught them, she was pretty sure.
"Have you been at the Weyr long?" she asked. That was usually a safe question. Folks didn't always like to talk about their pasts, but nearly everyone liked to recall the day a dragon said that they were special.
It seemed Ara was no exception, because her expression went soft and she got a little smile like she was hugging a secret close to herself. "I was Searched shortly before the last Hatching at High Reaches Weyr. For Zenobiath? That Touching was the second time I'd been on dragonback. It was the most amazing thing. Except for Khamaith's of course."
Csinda squinted, trying to remember how long ago Zenobiath had clutched. She thought it might have been about a turn ago. So Ara wasn't as new to the Weyr as she'd thought. There was just something about her that made her seem like she was fresh off the dragon. Csinda also tried to recall whether she'd noticed Ara at Khamaith's hatching. She hadn't gone to Zenobiath's. It irked her that she couldn't recall. Though, to be fair, Ara was just a slip of a thing, and with all the candidates dressed alike it was often difficult to pick out one among the crowd.
"It seems Weyr life agrees with you. Have you thought about which wing you want to be in once you graduate from being a weyrling?"
Ara's hands were at her cheeks again, both of them this time. When she lowered them to her fish once more, Csinda saw she'd left behind a few more sparkling scales. "I don't think that's really something I need to think about. I'm not going to Impress, you know. People like me don't really. I mean, I am so glad to be here, but I don't actually belong here. I'm not worth all that fuss."
Listening to people mope about not Impressing and not belonging at the Weyr had always worn on Csinda's patience, but that was because of how the people doing it seemed to drip with self-pity. Ara, on the other hand, seemed almost distressed that someone would think she was worthy of Impressing a dragon which was an unusual reaction. What must it have been like when she was Searched, Csinda wondered.
"At least one dragon thought you were," Csinda reminded her. Belatedly she realized it was possible Ara was fishing for compliments, but that didn't make a lot of sense. Who tried to get a stranger to give them compliments? Also, Ara really didn't seem the type. "Anyway, you've probably got a couple of turns before you age out, right? There're bound to be heaps of Hatchings before then."
Ara hummed a soft agreement. "Probably. I won't age out for another twelve turns."
Csinda did some more mental math and determined Ara was eighteen turns old. So, that was potentially a problem, if Csinda wanted to pursue her, and there was a lot of Csinda that did. Ara being a candidate was one thing, but being ten turns Csinda's junior as well as being a candidate probably put Ara onto the Not Right Now shelf.
"Do you plan to stay at the Weyr that whole time?"
If Ara Impressed, things might be different, particularly if she Impressed a dragon that might be inclined to give chase to Tijuth. But then, that would still be turns and turns away, and Csinda really wasn't one to carry a torch. She couldn't even imagine herself waiting multiple turns for someone. But that didn't mean they couldn't be friends. Just because Csinda found Ara charming didn't mean she had to act on it, now or ever, and honestly, good friends were worth so much more than lovers.
"If they'll let me. I heard some of the other candidates saying that they might send some of us home if fishing doesn't do enough to make up for the Weyr's shortages." She smiled extra brightly and Csinda's heart squeezed, being a little slower than her head to recognize that Ara had just been assigned to the Future Best Friend shelf. "I hope it doesn't come to that."
"I hope not, too," Csinda agreed. "I think you and I have the potential to be best friends, and I will personally punch anyone who tries to get in the way of that happening."
An expression of horror crossed Ara's face as, presumably, she imagined Csinda punching the Western Weyr Council. Then Csinda winked and Ara realized she was joking and giggled, which made Csinda's mouth stretch into a wide grin.
"How much longer do you have to scale fish, anyway?" Csinda asked. "I want you to meet Tijuth."
"Like this?" Ara asked, the horrified expression back on her face as she gestured toward herself. "I'm covered with fish scales! I probably look half fish myself!"
Csinda laughed. "I'd wondered if you knew that. I think you look very fetching with all those scales sparkling on your hands and face, and I assure you Tijuth won't think any less of you for it. Especially once I tell her you're not here to Impress a dragon, but to become one, and this is your first attempt."
Ara gaped and then she giggled again. "Well. Um. I'd like to meet Tijuth, but I'd really like to be wearing clean clothes and not have fish scales all over. Are they really on my face? How did they even get there?"
She was covering her cheeks again and then her eyes grew really wide and she took her hands away and stared at them like she'd never seen them before in her life. Apparently she'd figured out how the scales got on her face. Teasing her was going to be way too easy. Csinda was going to have a great time doing it.
"If it means that much to you," Csinda allowed. "But seriously, how much longer do we have to do this? I don't blame those other candidates for wanting out of this job."
"Um, I don't think you actually have to be doing this at all," Ara pointed out. "But I have another candlemark or so. You don't have to stay though. Obviously."
Csinda made a comical face of confusion. "Not stay? With my new best friend as she single-handedly seeks to denude every fish in Western Weyr? Perish the thought! If you are here for a candlemark, so shall I be."
Ara's small smile almost made up for the fact that Csinda was not going to get all of the fish scales off of her clothing for nearly three sevendays.
Word Count: 2,763
