Author's note: I decided to remove the prologue, because while it explained a couple of characters relationships to each other - it just wasn't working or flowing right. So I removed it and will probably clean it up and post it as its own separate story later on.

(I own nothing in this story except my own characters. Pern and everything else belongs to Anne McCaffrey)

(Nine Years after Avias)

Southern Boll Hold was dressed out in its best finery. Brightly colored flags emblazoned with the hold crest hung from the hold windows, flapping in the light breeze, while ships bobbed in the harbor. Gather stalls decorated a field with round tables framing a wooden square floor for dancing. Dragons watched from the fireheights, their whirling multicolored eyes adding to the gaiety as their riders mingled below.

N'kar paused as he stepped away from the traders booth, listening to the harper music drifting through the air. His arms were piled high with packages that his mother and older sisters had ordered, a fate his brother-in-law had managed to escape by disappearing to the races.

It was rare he ever saw his family now that he was a wingsecond. They had all lived at Benden Weyr once, where his father had been a journeyman tanner for the Weyr, but had gone their separate ways once he had passed on; one sister had been apprenticed to the Weaver crafthall, the second had married a holder from Southern Boll, his mother soon following with the youngest daughter after his father died. N'kar now tried to come to the Southern Boll Gathers at least once a turn to see them, so easy was it to loose track of ones family during a pass.

The gather shopping apparently done until turnover, his mother and sisters led the way to an empty table set at the edge of the dancing square. Relieved, N'kar piled the bundles in the middle and sat down heavily on a bench. The women regarded him with varying degrees of amusement.

Out of shape? Elanth questioned drowsily from his spot above the fireheights. You've become lazy.

Look who's talking, N'kar shot back. He glanced back at the hold, locating the brown easily in the mass of gathered dragons. His lifemate's eyes were half lidded swirling green and blue orbs in the afternoon dusk. Weren't dragons supposed to be supportive of their riders? He glared at the table, gritting his teeth as his dark brown hair fell into his eyes.

His mother came around behind him and finger combed his hair lightly. "Your hair's getting shaggy again, you really should let me cut it before you leave." She paused then continued again, her son's hair reminding her of something. "And how is my grandson doing?"

N'kar winced, closing his eyes briefly. "Nelladwyn is good. He's learning all his teaching ballads perfectly and says hello." It wasn't completely a lie; the boy's foster mother said he was doing well enough.

"How sweet!" His mother cooed, totally oblivious to her son's discomfort. "You should have brought him with you; it would do the boy some good to get outside of the weyr for a bit."

"I wish I could've... but he had chores to do." Another lie, since it hadn't even occurred to him to ask.

"Ah," Sighting someone in the crowd she left him abruptly. "Here comes Bayhon with some food." With that she rushed off with her eldest daughter to great her son-in-law.

N'kar sighed in relief and buried his face in his hands. He sometimes forgot how nosy his mother could be, asking questions about things that were better left alone.

"Nelladwyn's still not speaking to you, is he?" Sakina, his youngest sister, asked.

"No." N'kar groaned and leaned back. He glanced over at his sister and her husband smiling wistfully, such a happy couple. While he didn't wish things had turned out differently, being a dragonrider often put a strain on relationships. People who weren't blessed with a dragonmate sometimes became jealous, loathing the attention riders lavished on their friends. "He speaks to me only when his foster mother or the weyrharper forces him too, otherwise..." The brownrider shrugged trailing off.

"Still blames you for his mother?" She probed her voice caring and gentle. He nodded, thinking vaguely of Llydwen, his former weyrmate. He should have been around more during those first few years, maybe Nelladwyn wouldn't have been so precocious and Llydwen wouldn't have left, but that had been when Avias had first been discovered and everyone had been caught up in the destruction of thread.

"It wasn't your fault," Sakina started in an attempt to soothe her brother.

"That's not an excuse." He had been warned against Llydwen multiple times. Dragonriders were hardly known for being monogamous and his wingmates had tried to discourage him from taking a weyrmate all together. But he had thought he could do it all, and have a normal relationship like his father and mother.

"What's not an excuse, N'kar?" Bayhon asked suddenly, easily holding a tray of tubers and wherrymeat above his head. His wife and mother-in-law stood nearby carrying extra plates and cups.

"N-nothing." N'kar stuttered, scowling as the man grinned companionably at Sakina.

"Having a heart to heart with your brother? How touching. Given him any advice on women?" The tall holder asked then turned towards N'kar. "I've heard you haven't found a weyrmate. Y'know more and more girls are beginning to impress greens, or maybe you prefer..."

"Have you found any land yet?" Sakina asked quickly cutting the man off. The last thing they needed was a fight between the two men.

N'kar smiled gratefully at her. "No, not yet."

"You could stay with us at the hold once thread ends." His elder sister offered.

"Yes, there's always room at the hold if you want." His mother continued.

N'kar smiled slightly, "I'd rather find my own place."

We will not be indebted to holders again. Elanth said, echoing the now popular sentiment among weyrfolk.

I thought you were asleep, N'kar smiled to himself.

I was, but then some more dragons arrived and I had to move. Elanth answered coolly. There are two very pretty greens here now but they can't talk to me.

Don't you mean 'won't'?

No. I meant can't. They can't talk. There's a big bronze and a blue that keep watch on them constantly. The dragon sounded annoyed, it was very unusual that dragons didn't exchange news when they met. He's very nervous.

Maybe they're coming into heat? The brownrider suggested in an attempt to soothe the dragon.

No, I would know. They act different too; worried, nervous. Especially the large green, she's nearly as big as me, but she isn't a green.

How can a green not be a green?

I don't know, I don't understand. She's green, but she isn't a green.

I give up. N'kar's brain hurt from trying to understand Elanth's logic. Go back to sleep.

"...You really ought to get a cove of some sort, so there'd be lot's of water for Elanth." His mother was saying, "There'll have to be plenty of wild herdbeasts nearby and fruit trees. Do you have a craft for After yet? You do, don't you? N'kar, are you even listening?"

N'kar stared at her uncomprehending, still confused by a green who wasn't a green.

"Bayhon, do you have the wine?" Selema, his older sister, suddenly asked, always the hostess, even whilr her mother looked like she was about to start a tirade.

"I thought you had it." For once Bayhon was utterly at a loss for words as his wife glared at him.

"I'll get it." N'kar offered jumping up quickly. He would do anything to get away from his mother right now, even if it meant buying Bayhon some wine.

"I'll come too!" Sakina deftly followed her brother through the maze of gather tables.

They found a spot at the back of the line for the vintner, chatting amiably while they waited. N’kar relaxed, listening to his sister’s easy voice. Unlike his mother and Selema, she knew not to ask uncomfortable questions about Nelladwyn. Instead she told him about life in the hold; he heard tales about the people she met daily, about the time the chains for Bayhon’s cart broke, or the time Selema had overcooked the hold bread.

The line in front of them soon became shorter and then they were one away from the front. The brownrider forced himself back to reality as he observed the skins of chilled wine sitting on shelves, in buckets of snow from the barrier range, and hanging from their straps on pegs

Ahead of them a journeywoman runner deftly balanced a platter of food on one arm and shoulder. He watched as her wrist trembled from all the weight, her simply braided hair bobbing as she tried to haggle a cheaper price for an already inexpensive skin of wine.

Beside him Sakina sighed. “I wish they’d hurry up, I’m hungry.”

“… The price stays 9 marks, that’s the lowest I go.”

“But surely vintnermarks are just as good as fishermarks, or harper, or printer for that matter either.” The runner protested, shifting the platter to ease the stress on her wrist.

“Girl need I repeat myself?” The master running the stall said becoming annoyed quickly. “I am a vintner; I have no need for vintnermarks. Now show some fishermarks or another type or move!”

“But…” The journeywoman started again.

“No marks, no wine. Now move so I can help another customer.”

In the dim light N’kar could just make out the woman setting her jaw. “Sir..."

“How much is the wine?” N’kar asked stepping forward and gaining both the Vinter and the journeywoman’s undivided attention.

“N-nine marks, brownrider.” The master stammered noticing the dragonrider’s shoulder knots almost immediately. The journeywoman, barely more than a girl N’kar noticed absently, visibly jumped, the plates on her tray rattling. She quickly stepped away from him and shot him a nervous look before schooling her face into a blank expression.

“Hmmm.” N’kar pursed his lips in thought as he searched his mark pouch. Idly he pulled out a handful of marks and counted out several of the worn wooden rounds. He let out a heavy sigh. “I’m afraid all I have are vintnermarks…”

“That’s fine, brownrider, very fine.” The master held out his hand to take them not wanting to upset a dragonrider.

N’kar stared at him solemnly, raising his eyebrows. “But I thought you just said that you didn’t take vintnermarks.”

“Benden marks of any type are welcome here.” The master stammered, trying to take back his words without losing any customers. “Even vintners.”

“Then you should have no objection to her marks.” He nodded at the journeywoman next to him. The master stared at them, openmouthed as N’kar counted out several marks onto the table. “Two chilled skins of your best Istan.”

The master scooped up the marks deftly and turned, yelling at his apprentices rapidly. Two skins were soon produced from underneath the table along with some earthenware mugs to drink from.

N’kar slipped the straps over his shoulder like it was a firestone sack. His sister grabbed the other skin and the mugs they needed.

“Well …” The brownrider turned expecting to find the journeywoman still waiting by the stall. She was gone with the skin, the only testimony to her existence a small pile of marks on the counter. N’kar shook his head, strangely disappointed that the girl hadn’t stayed around, at the very least she could have stayed to say thank you. His sister started back towards the table and he followed her, gazing about him with no particular interest in anything.

The dancing had started. The harpers were playing a lively little reel that had the dancers changing partners every few minutes. N’kar paused to watch for a moment, tapping his foot to the beat. He would have to remember to ask Sakina to dance later, he missed it: Llydwen had been a horrible dancer and extremely jealous of anyone else he partnered with. Sighing, he turned back, not wanting to lose his sister in the ever-thickening crowds around the square.

The edge of a heavy platter slammed sharply into his stomach, neatly knocking the wind out of him and making him stagger backwards. He grabbed the platter in an attempt to steady himself and keep it from spilling its contents all over him. He gasped for air staring down at the rough wooden circle with it’s haphazardly placed trenchers of food.

The person carrying the platter gasped in shock and N’kar found himself looking at the runner from the wine stand.

"By Faranth!" Her eyes were wide with shock, and N'kar had a feeling that she would have dropped the platter if he hadn't been holding on to it.

“Are you all right?” He managed to say after a brief moment of sharp agony.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. But... I am so sorry Brownrider..."

The brownrider stared at her for a second, not knowing what to say. He had heard of holders being frightened of Dragonriders before but the girl was clearly horrified.

N’kar forced himself to grin, quickly forgetting the pain. “Yes, well…”

He was suddenly surprised when a little blue firelizard stuck his head in the gap where the runner’s ear joined her head. It regarded him silently, apparently too lazy to make a fuss at the distraction. He stared at it, his jaw dropping slightly.

“N’kar! C’mon, everyone’s waiting!” Sakina appeared next to them, she glanced at the runner and immediately narrowed her eyes. “Oh.”

He shot a look at his sister, noticing out of the corner of his eye that the blue fire lizard mirrored his actions. “What?”

“Mother, sister, and Bayhon are waiting for the wine.”

“Well didn't you take it to them?”

“You’re carrying the other skin, brother dear.”

“Oh,” N’kar grinned sheepishly. He had forgotten about that.

The runner gaped at them, her mouth opening and closing at least twice while she tried to figure out what to say next. "I'm... I'm very sorry."

"Yes, well, you should be. Maybe next time you should watch where you're going" Sakina's tone was acid and N'kar shot another look at his sister wondering where this vicious tunnel snake had come from. He looked back at the runner, half expecting to find her cowering where she stood - instead she seemed to pull herself straighter for a second. Her expression had gone very cold and her eyes where flashing with anger. He was suddenly very glad to be holding on to the platter and had the feeling that if he hadn't been, it might have ended up being tossed at his sister.

The runner seemed to realize he was watching though, and quickly started to cower again.

“It's quite all right, really I'm fine." N'kar finally spoke up, studying the runner discretely. She was shaking so badly that he almost began to think he had imagined things. "Sakina, please calm down."

"Why should..."

"Sakina!" The brownrider barked, "Please. I'm sure the runner here will be more careful in the future."

The girl nodded furiously, her braid bobbing.

Sakina rolled her eyes skyward, turning her back on them. “Oh, please.”

“I'm really very sorry about that." N'kar murmured, finally letting go of the platter.

"Don't be," The runner gulped. "It was my fault"

“Well, then, good day.”

“Good day.”

Look out! Elanth bugled suddenly, just as N’kar and Sakina started back towards the table.

There was a bit of a shriek, short and high pitched, and N’kar glanced over his shoulder towards the way the runner had gone. Two children dodged out of the way, just barely escaping being hit as the girl tripped over a bench leg trying to avoid them. The platter was being held high overhead in an attempt to keep it from hitting someone else, he could see it wobble slightly as the runner’s arms trembled from the stress of keeping it aloft. It tilted just a little to the back, threatening to spill…

In an instant he was there, his hand slipping underneath it, bracing it. He took it carefully from her and balanced it on one shoulder then slipped his free hand underneath her elbow, helping her get back to her feet. "This is clearly not your day."

She looked at him stunned as the blue firelizard flew about overhead, shrieking in annoyance. “Thank you, that’s twice you’ve helped me out today. I don’t know how I can repay you.”

“Three,” N’kar corrected, thinking of the vintner, smiling down at her. “That’s three times.”

He slid the skin of wine off of his shoulder and held it by it’s straps towards Sakina. “Here, take this back to the table while I help her out.”

“You don’t have to do that,” The runner protested. She stepped forward as if to take the tray back from him. “I am quite capable of carrying it myself.”

He snorted and shot her a look, easily keeping the tray away from her. “And let you go and spill food on some one else? Plus, your arms are tired and shaking; you probably couldn’t even carry it if you wanted to.”

She flinched at his tone "...all right."

“Good,” N’kar smiled apologetically at his sister who was glaring at the runner again, finally here was a chance to get away from Bayhon’s insinuating remarks and his mother’s annoying questions. “Tell mother that I’ll try to find you after…”

“This,” Sakina finished for him. “I’ll tell her.”

She started back towards the table, shooting yet another glare at the runner over her shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.

“You really don’t have to do this…” The runner started again with a half hopeful expression on her face.

“Don’t even start,” The brownrider glanced down at her, chiding her like she was a weyrling. “You said yourself you didn’t know how you could ever repay me. Think of this as a part of the payment.”

She quirked an eyebrow, still obviously unhappy about the situation. “Carrying a tray as a payment? That sounds more like a chore to me.”

“Giving me a way to escape my family, that’s the payment.” He followed her through the crowds deftly.

"That bad?" Her words were hesitant, but at least she wasn't stammering anymore.

"At times." He sighed, "They're family. I think it's in their blood to ask too many questions sometimes. Don't you get that from your family sometimes?"

"No."

"Really? You should consider yourself lucky then."

"I don't have any family."

"Oh," Now it was N'kar's turn to look embarrassed. He had really stuck his foot in his mouth this time.

The table the runner’s friends sat at was hidden far back in the shadows near the edge of the gather square. The glow lanterns were placed further apart and were dimmer, the newer, brighter glows having been moved to light up the dance floor.

The girl walked ahead of N’kar, staring straight ahead and refusing to acknowledge the men who leered at her. A few even chose to make appreciative catcalls, but these were quickly silenced once the men saw the tall dark headed brownrider following her.

They finally stopped at a table were two silent forms waited in the darkness.

“Finally!” An exasperated voice said, its owner leaning forward into the fading light of a single glow hanging overhead. “What took you so long?”

“I had a few problems.” The runner answered the journeyman. N’kar finally let her take the platter from him and watched as she sat it down on the table.

“Apparently,” The harper snorted. “Let’s just hope the food hasn’t cooled off.”

The runner glanced around the table as she slipped the wineskin off of her shoulder dropping it on the table. The harper immediately grabbed it and started pouring glasses for the other two at the table and him. “Where’s Miro?”

Her voice was so soft that the harper stopped and shot her a confused look. "Where these bad problems?"

She shook her head and N'kar caught her giving him a quick look. She blushed and sat down quickly. He decided to speak up, "Your friend was just having a hard time carrying the tray, so I volunteered to help."

“Forget about Miro: who’s this?” The second harper, a Sr. apprentice leaned forward. His almond shaped brown eyes watched N’kar eagerly.

“Oh, um…this is…” The runner’s voice died off and she finally glanced back at him.

“N’kar, rider of brown Elanth.” He supplied easily, smiling at the two harpers.

The older of the two harpers smiled, "Our thanks to you, then, rider."

“Yes, thank you for that again. I’m sure you want to get back to your family, they must be wondering where you are…” The runner said quickly, reaching into her mark pouch.

“How gallant!” The apprentice harper exclaimed his face lit with excitement as he cut the runner off. None of them, N’kar noticed idly, had offered any names at his introduction. “Hardly anyone comes to the rescue of a damsel in distress anymore…”

That seemed to wake the runner up again. She narrowed her eyes at the apprentice, “I am not a…”

“We really must repay you,” He continued, ignoring the runner’s outburst. “The food stalls are probably all sold out by now, and there’s more then enough food here to share…”

The girl frowned as she realized where the harper was going with this. “Niranyal, no…”

“So why don’t you eat with us?” The harper finished quickly, flashing a sweet smile at the runner as she sank down to sit on the bench. He turned back to N’kar. “It’s the least we can do.”

“Sure.” N’kar promptly agreed and sat down next to the girl, smiling at her.

She stared back at him, her mouth slightly agape. “But your family…”

“Won’t miss me at all.” He lied watching her expression fell again.

She turned away from him and watched the harpers idly as they passed out the food. It was typical massed produced gather fare: slightly overcooked tubers and roasted wherry with bubbly pies for desert. She stared at her own food for a moment before glancing at the plate in front of the empty seat next to her.

“Where’s Miro?” She asked again.

“Well…” Niranyal started; he glanced at the journeyman next to him for help. “Um…”

“He went off to look for you awhile ago.” The other harper finished. “Probably stopped some minor hold fire along the way, y’know how he is.”

A hand came out of the shadows and landed on the journeyman’s shoulder making him wince in a combination of pain and embarrassment. “No, I’m afraid we don’t.”

The runner smiled at the man stepping into the glow light, looking slightly relieved. “I was wondering what happened to you.”

“Funny, I could say the same thing.” He smiled at her then nodded his head at the brownrider. “Good evening.”

“Good evening.” N’kar nodded back watching the newcomer silently. Unlike the others he wore no shoulder knots and was dressed in simple traveling clothes with plain leather boots. A faint pale puckered scar marred his otherwise handsome face, traveling across his cheek and jaw line down along his neck and beneath the rough tunic. He met N’kar stare for stare as he sat next to the runner and made no attempt to conceal his wariness as Niranyal quizzed the brownrider.

N’kar frowned as he tried to decipher the way Miro interacted with the runner. There was a sense of possessiveness and protectiveness in his actions towards her making N’kar wonder if perhaps the two were something of an item. However if the runner noticed, she made no outward sign of it - not that N'kar really cared if the two where together, or so he told himself. He had no intentions of getting involved in another relationship with someone from outside the Weyr. However he couldn't help but be a bit annoyed that the runner ignored him completely, engaging the holder in halting conversation. The two harpers however chatted eagerly with him making up for the runner's shyness.

The wind carried on it traces of a dancing melody and N’kar found himself tapping his foot to the beat. In the square people had already lined up in rows in preparation for one of the new dances that the harpers had recovered from Avias. The young apprentice watched them, giving the dancers his undivided attention.

“Oh, that’s something new! I haven’t seen one of those yet.” He breathed desirously. N’kar shot a curious look at him. The dance one of several the harpers had taken from AVIAS's records and had introduced a few turns ago, so it was hardly new.

“Our hold is fairly hidebound." Miro offered in explanation, noticing the dragonrider’s expression. N’kar nodded, like it or not there were still some holds up in the hills that rejected the new ways.

“Come on, M’taren.” The young harper suddenly said and stood up pulling on the journeyman’s sleeve. “Let’s go watch, maybe we can learn enough to show Berjui a few steps at home.”

“Oh, all right.” The journeyman sighed relenting finally.

“M’taren?” N’kar asked turning to look at the runner. Only dragonriders had the honorific in their names.

“Well…” She started, glancing at Miro. Both had looks on their faces like they had been caught at something though the holder’s was tinted with anger.

“It’s Niranyal’s pet name for Taren.” Miro said quickly. “He meant no offense brownrider, it’s just an innocent little game of theirs. He really shouldn’t use it out in public. Our holder has warned him several times about how others may not understand...”

The runner smiled faintly, nodding. “Taren was supposed to be a candidate but his father wouldn’t let him impress. He let it slip one night and now Niranyal thinks the world of him.”

“I should go and keep an eye on them. Make sure they stay out of trouble.” Miro sighed and stood, stretching a bit as he stepped over the bench. “We’ll meet you at that meadow down the road, don’t be late.”

“I'll come too.” The girl jumped up.

“Will you stay at least to dance?” N’kar found himself asking suddenly. He stared up at the runner his own surprise echoing the astonished look on her face. He looked down at the table wondering what had possessed him to ask her that, Niranyal and Taren quickly forgotten among his own embarrassment. Sure he missed dancing but he could always ask Sakina to dance a round or two, he barely knew this girl! Also, she had made it very clear she wasn't interested in his company. Yet he found himself blundering on as she continued to stare at him. “I mean you owe me and you’ve only partially paid it back with the food and the rescuing of me from my family and all. So since I’ve ‘saved’ you three times that means you still owe me two things right? And… and… by the egg I feel like such a weyrling.” He murmured slowly trailing off.

She looked at him carefully. Her eyes glittered strangely in the dim glowlight, even more entrancing than before: shifting from one shade of brown to another, quick as thought. She glanced back at Miro, "I don't know if I can..."

The holder looked thoughtful for a minute, "I'm sure it would be fine, but only if you want to."

"Well..."

"Stay," He smiled. "I'm sure it will be fun. It's been awhile since you've enjoyed yourself."

"Okay," She looked at N'kar. "All right. But only for one dance."

“Huh?” N’kar asked, not quite believing his ears.

“I said ‘all right’,” He continued to stare at her and she glanced away blushing again. “Sooo… you said you wanted to dance.”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” N'kar really hadn't expected her to agree and had no idea what to do next. Suddenly he was regretting ever saying anything to the girl in the first place. The holder turned smothered a laugh at his expression before disappearing into the crowd.

“Well?” She cocked an eyebrow at him.

The runner had many faces. He watched her carefully wondering were this one had come from. Finally he stood and held out his hand to her. “Care to dance?”

“That would be delightful.” Her fingertips were light on his, rough and callused but gentle all the same. He stared at them for a moment surprised at how long and thin they were, almost like a Harper’s. She followed him to the dance floor, never meeting his glances, always looking straight ahead. Well, he thought to himself, at least that was some improvement over flinching away from him.

Once N’kar saw his family but he quickly led the runner behind a group of people, sighing in relief as they finally reached the dance floor unaccosted.

She gave him an amused smile as they waited for the next dance to begin, “Avoiding someone?”

“Maybe,” He laughed, slightly out of breath from dodging around tables. The harpers started up another tune, a lively little jig of sorts. “Let’s go.” He grabbed her hand again and pulled her out onto the dance floor.