Unarah could barely remember her family, really, she'd been fostered away as a very young girl. The family that she was placed with had kept in touch as much as they could with her siblings, but when they learned of one's death at the hands of their father - they stopped sending letters. Unarah didn't really know any of this either, she was too busy learning to spin.

The sheep that she tended, tagging along her older foster-brother, were warm and smelled funny. She was small enough to ride them, which they tolerated well enough. She helped gather their shorn wool in great armfulls, nearly engulfed by it for years before she could stand taller than the piles.

Her foster mother showed her how to make thread, how to clean the wool, and that the shorn sheep were just going to grow their fur back rather quickly so they weren't going to freeze. It was when she was around nine turns old, that Unarah got to attend the big gather that her foster family attended once a year, to send off their goods and gather supplies.

Since they lived on an island - a rather nice one, to hear her foster-father speak of it - they did have to import many of their supplies such as metals and woods, but they had a large trade in meat, leather and wool. Dyes were brought in, looms and such assembled for the gather - demonstrations of the latest techniques and guild personages showing off.

Unarah was entranced by the looms. Her foster mother had shown her a small one, but they didn't have these large ones that could fill a whole room of their cothold. Until the light was too dim to see, Unarah watched as though hypnotized by the threads. She memorized the way that the foot pedals could adjust which strands were going what direction.

"Hah, it figures I'd find you here," her foster mother said, startling Unarah and making the guild-woman who was operating the machine chuckle.

"She's been asking the best questions, ma'am. I think you should talk to the guild master, tomorrow." She suggested. "The girl's got a good eye for things. Helped me change a skein too, when I was almost out of red." Unarah beamed with the praise, and her foster mother's eyebrows shot up.

"Well, well!" She said, "I think we may do that on the morrow," she lifted the little bird-boned girl over her round shoulder, "but for now, it's time for dinner!"

***

The meeting with the Guild Masters went very smoothly - they were looking for some new apprentices, and Unarah had all the marks of a great student. She needed to learn to read, but gobbled that information up quickly too. Before her tenth turnday, she had been packed up and moved away from her foster family and into the Guild hall on the mainland. It was a different situation than she'd ever been in, but she adjusted well enough. There were two other young Apprentices, a boy and a girl, both around her age. Of the three, Unarah was the most talented, and recieved the most attention for that reason.

However, she was humble enough to help them with their studies, instead of mocking them or abusing her priveleges. Instead of getting her own dorm, offered to her when she was eleven, she opted to remain with her friend Lannah in their shared dorm - they'd both seen the new recruits coming in, one from a Lord's family who was just reeking of money and attitude, and who both Lannah and Unarah detested. It would have been that girl that poor Lannah would have had to dorm with - and no way was Unarah going to let that happen!

Unarah's skills grew monthly. She learned dying and more about how to create delicate threads rather than merely the heavy carded-wool that she'd dealt with at home. It made her happy when they brought her and her friends to the island, to another gather where her foster-family eagerly welcomed her and her friends for the sevenday. She could hardly contain herself, it was more talking than her family had ever heard from her, about this technique or that person.

She kept aside enough of her own family's wool to make them specific things to send home. Mostly scarves, she loved making those - they could be colorful or subtle, she enjoyed making solid color items but with different textures of threads and slight variations that made them uniquely hers.

Unarah did have a bit of a secret for those. Among the guild's vast library of scrolls, wherhide and ancient books were some which described a unique tool that had so far not been put to use here on Pern - for whatever reason, she didn't understand. She'd discovered an ancient technique that could attach to a loom, guiding with holes in heavy cards to show where each part of the weft should go.

She didn't remake this tool, but instead hours of poring over the oldest of their books found her a good number of images of those cards - she re-interpreted them into a visual style, even going so far as to make a kind of random dot-locator, to give some spice to the designs. Soon enough she could look over a design of almost anyone's and think, that's three on, two off, one on, repeat, about it.

Now, all that's not to say she wasn't without her critics. At least one of the older Masters didn't enjoy having too many women in the Guild, and would consistantly gripe about how they 'always made those frilly things, never anything practical'. Unarah's designs were so far from frilly and useless, she did manage to gently tell him off when one day he offered a stern, and mostly-made-up critique of a piece she was working on.

"Well I will take that as much to heart as I dare," she said of his disgust with a looping weave, "but I'm rather certain that Lord Holder Neulee will find it as attractive as he designed it to be. After all, I'm merely working with his hundred-turn old design found in this Guild's library."

Eventually her deft hands and keen eyes were of use in a lace festival, and while she would always enjoy making larger pieces, she delighted in creating elegant and complicated lace works. Sisal and cotton and silk found their way to her looms, she excelled in all of those different textiles. Slowly but surely, as well, she grew into a lovely young woman.

The other Apprentices and certainly any other men that came through the Guild hall noticed her. She was far prettier than the stuck-up Lady Antaka, and - regrettably - also prettier by far than her friend Lannah. She would never be very tall, Lannah shot up head and shoulders above Unarah by the time they were sixteen. They joked about it, Lannah could still pick up Unarah she was so little.

Antaka on the other hand found it offensive - she hardly ever touched anyone. The only thing she liked touching, it seemed, was the cloth and fabrics which she was, admittedly, pretty good at dying. The rivalry between the girls was obvious, but thankfully since they hadn't opted to take the same exact paths, they would never really need to be at odds more than any others.

When it came time for Unarah to pass from Apprentice to Senior Apprentice, she was seventeen turns and lovely. She was demure and polite, pretty much everything that any young man might hope for in a wife. But she only dallied with certain boys, and never - ever - allowed them to have their way with her physically. She wasn't trying to be "chaste" or anything - she was just not willing to go the route other girls had done in the past.

Of course, when the time came for her to walk the tables as a Journeyman - things got a little sticky there.

"I'd like to introduce you to Master Witter, he is going to help us decide what to do with you, Unarah," the Guild Master said, introducing a middle-aged red-haired man who nodded politely and looked to Unarah as though he'd rather be elsewhere. Unarah presented her works, and gave a demonstration in as much as half a candlemark would allow. She showed competency at all the different aspects of weaving, and impressed the Masters with her clever use of textures on those earlier pieces (something which she still would do). Also of interest was her valuable time on the sheep ranch - it taught her what to look for in raw materials, and a good bartering skill.

She didn't expect them to just stand up and pin knots on her shoulder, when she had finished with her demonstration. They would deliberate and discuss, and finally figure out what would become of her. That she was Journeyman material was obvious, but beyond that? Would she be allowed to instruct, or be asked to go to another craft Hall, or even just be sent on her way like the Harpers did with their Journeymen?

Something else entirely happened, in the evening of that day. Two others were also under scrutiny for their Journeyman badges, so there was an appropriate feast held in the trio's honor. Unarah congratulated the one who had already gotten his knots, and honestly praised the other who was still, like her, waiting for the results. While she was picking at her food, noting well the other apprentice's similar habit, one of the Masters and another man about his same age but dramatically different in appearance came to sit beside her.

"Greetings, Master Witter," Unarah said politely, "it's an honor."

"Oh you wouldn't say that if you knew him," his largely-built and very dark-skinned companion said with a laugh.

"This is my partner, Vintner Vaylos," Witter said, aiming a mockingly caustic glance at the dark man. They were both impressively dressed, which would follow, since Witter was more of a fashion tailor than anything else, and Vaylos truth be told could use a handsome suit to spice up his rather gravity-worn shape. The pair nodded to the other apprentice but it was obvious they weren't here to chat with him.

"We were talking about you, you know," Witter winked at Unarah, "your work is quite impressive, and you're very polite and charming. Can't have enough of that around, can we?"

"We can't," Vaylos grunted, this was obviously something they batted back and forth frequently.

"That's right, we can't. But it would be such a wonderful thing to have a girl like yourself assist me. Someone with that talent and spark of artistry--"

"And youth," Vaylos interrupted, causing Witter to roll his sky-teal colored eyes.

"And youth, would be of great value to me around the Weyr. So I'd like to offer you your Journeymanship to come back with us, to the Weyr."

"I'd be ... wait, what?" Unarah said, her fork halfway to her mouth, and slowly going back down. "Did you say Weyr? You're a Weyr master?"

"Indeed, we both are," Witter grinned like he was a prize winning pie maker. "And though the Weyr's going through some changes these days, it would still be an honor for me, to have you on as my Journeywoman. It would be quite an adventure, you cannot deny that!"

Unarah was about to beg out, but then her apprentice companion from across the big wooden table bugged his eyes out and mouthed the words, 'do it! do it!' at her. It was true, this was a chance in a lifetime. Plus, she knew that her skills would be useful at a place where there was so much typical action.

Threadfall was ended, there would be time for parties and for that people needed to dress well! It was true she probably wasn't going to be using much of her lacework skills there - but she could still sell them at gathers!

"Oh yes, yes I would like that very much!" She blurted, after a moment of pondering. The men seemed very pleased with themselves, and the next morning she had her own Journeyman badge and knots to proudly display.

***

Unarah's life had changed so much in the last few weeks, she couldn't even express it. She sent letters to her foster-family still, a habit she got into early at the Guild hall, to keep her penmanship and writing skills fresh. They were extremely proud of her, and knew that their family was richer for it.

But life in the Weyr, even a smaller one like Dark Moon, was considerably different than cothold farm, or guild hall! The people were so busy! Not like in a farm, where there was a ritual of things - no, this was a place which was used to an immediate response and a quick return. But now that there was no Thread, it seemed that they were enjoying more and more life outside the Weyr itself and more tasks had to be done to keep everything together.

"I'll admit it isn't what I thought," Unarah said, while she was helping cut a pattern onto cloth with Master Witter. "But it is nice here. And the dragons are lovely."

"Aren't they?" Witter said. He handed her another smaller pair of scissors, and took the big ones back for his own cloth. "But how are you settling? Are you going to remain here in the Weyr itself, or find a place down below?"

"Oh..." Unarah wasn't certain, and she expressed this. "I think for the moment I would like to stay here in the Weyr itself. The caverns may look dreary to some, but I actually think they're quite fun! I've never had the chance to explore caverns like this, our cothold wasn't on land that had much like it, and the Guild hall of course... well, it's a structure."

She and her craft Master got along very well - he was critical but praised where due, and enjoyed poking fun at both his lover and his new assistant. Particularly when Vaylos would do something rude like belch loudly or barge in on something - Whitter used her as a foil.

"I swear upon the sea, if you do that again I'll... I'll run off with Unarah, and where would you be then!" Whitter jibed. But it was Unarah's turn to blush and giggle when Vaylos replied.

"Oh posh, she doesn't have the energy for you, always bounding about like a sugar-filled flitter." Vaylos nudged his bulky form over by Unarah, and said, "besides, we both know she loves me best."

Though she sputtered with giggles, she knew that neither of them wanted to bed her, though she wouldn't really have wanted all the information that they often batted about between them. Eventually as that day wore on, and Vaylos brought up a bottle of one of the spicier brews he was known for making, they all got a little tipsy. Unarah sat and watched them: they were so different but they were also so very much in love.

"I don't think my foster-mother would approve of you two," Unarah muttered, sipping at the wine and enjoying how it tingled on her tongue.

"Oh my mother didn't either," Vaylos said. "T'wasn't long after I met this overdressed fop that I had to explain my lack of finding a 'proper wife' to em."

"'s true," Witter said, a bit groggy.

"And thus I was cast out from my family, never to return." Vaylos mockingly wiped a nonexistant tear from his dark eye. "In a family with four more boys and three more girls, they couldn't stand to have a one that didn't feel like rounding up a filly and breeding like they did."

For some stupid reason - one which she was never quite clear on, it might have been the wine - Unarah said, "I've never been with a man," and then immediately wondered why in the world she had said such a thing to them. Both men sat in wide-eyed amazement, and finally both of them as a pair came to sit on either side of the young woman.

"But... Now look honey if I can, anyone can," Vaylos said. "You are a beautiful young thing, how can you--"

"No, no it's not ... because I couldn't," Unarah said, rolling her head around. They were being so silly. "It's ... I just didn't want to start breeding like them, you know? I ... well I was in a foster family and I love them - I do. They told me last year what became of my real family and I'm glad I wasn't part of it." She drew in a sigh and sipped at the wine again. "I just don't want to wind up with some man that won't understand or love me."

The odd men glanced at each other significantly behind Unarah's head, and Witter muttered, "isn't that the truth."

***

Things continued to progress for Unarah at the Weyrhold, a clutch was on their sands - a light-green's clutch, sired by a beautiful two-toned night blue. She knew that in times past, there would be an outcry about the presence of a green clutching at all - but this was not that time. Their only queen had gone, apparently shortly before Unarah arrived. So now the 'queen' was green.

Well, Unarah liked the little greens, the perky blues. The dragons in general inspired her to make fanciful designs in her lacework, and indeed when she took her first 'dragonflight' styled shawl to a gather it sold for quite a lot more than she expected. The Weyrhold could have a good future just the way it was, she thought. It was a place where dragons roosted, and where humans dwelled in safety.

"But where are we even going to ... find..." Philippe's voice trailed off into silence as he was passed in one glow-lit hall by the almost inseperable trio of older Masters and their Journeywoman. "Er."

He paused, most likely because his dragon had started yammering into his skull, loudly, that they had access to at least one good candidate who may even be the type they'd want to consider for his queen daughter's rider.

His queen daughter, Philippe chuckled, and he spun on his heel to catch up with the crafters. Sometimes, things just drop right into your lap, don't they?

"If you don't mind me interrupting," Philippe said, causing the older men to stop their relentless search for things that Unarah didn't blush about, "I'd like to swipe your Journeywoman there for a moment."

"Now see, there is a handsome man," Vaylos said, and got an elbow in his gut from Witter for it. The dark-skinned vintner leaned in to whisper at Unarah's ear, "well he is, look at him."

Unarah tried to ignore the obvious jibes they were giving her, and smiled nervous and bright at the elfin rider. "I don't mind, we weren't working on anything much just now... Philippe, isn't it?" She extended her hand in a greeting, found his grip to be sure and strong - but her hands were equally strong, from a decade of working a loom. He hadn't expected that, the women who embroidered or were so delicately sewing things - or the drudges who did nothing but mend holes - didn't give the same impression that Unarah did.

She was no delicate flower, no Lady who didn't want to lift heavy things. Here was a woman weaver, one who'd brought her own tools and loom equipment up to her weyr with little assistance. She didn't look muscular, but she was definitely stronger than she appeared. Also, her polite wit was evident - she could hold her own, albeit with a usually-bright-red face, with these two clowns.

"Your tolerance for their antics is pretty impressive," Philippe commented of the pair of Master crafters as they headed off to the dining hall without their younger friend.

"They're very good to me," Unarah said.

"They're often quite rude," Philippe said.

"Oh no, no, that's just Vaylos. Witter is quite upright and proper. And," Unarah smirked, "if he'd heard me say that he would make some incredibly nasty comment about being 'upright'." She rolled her eyes. "What is it you'd like to speak about, then? Did you need something new to wear? I've got plenty of cloth on the --"

"No, no, well ... not right now," Philippe laughed. "At this moment, I would like to invite you to the sands, Journeywoman Unarah, if you would like to stand for the clutch there. I realize it's a little awkward, but we need good candidates who can... well, be trusted with certain information."

"Is there a problem?" Unarah said, worried, "with the eggs? And... wait, what?"

***

"Oh that little point-eared lump!" Vaylos grumbled.

"You said he was handsome not two minutes before," Unarah pointed out.

"But that was before he sent us on our way so he could Search you! Why - we're ... We should have been there!"

In his more silent way, even Witter agreed, but instead of griping he went to console his dear friend. Perhaps Philippe had done the right thing - announcing her Search in front of the two biggest gossips in the Weyr would probably have done more harm than good.  Now that wasn't really fair, Unarah thought as she distracted herself by going back to a large project, occupying her hands was the only way she could free her mind. There were more heady gossips in the Weyr. Just not so close to her, was all.

Over another bottle of much older and much more potent wine than he usually shared, Vaylos and Witter then began pointing out her best qualities - things they thought would help her be a real rider.

"Punctuality!" Vaylos said. "And politeness."

"Sensible virtue, didn't get knocked up before coming to the Weyr." Witter said, drawing yet another blush onto Unarah's face.

"Humble," Vaylos said, "though most riders are not. I've yet to meet a humble rider that I didn't fall madly in love with."

"I've yet to meet a humble rider," Unarah put in, making them both laugh.

"Well you can be the first!" Witter chuckled. "And have bragging rights... oh wait!"

After a while of this, Vaylos happend to say, "and you won't need to worry about finding a man, one will come to you eventually."

"What? I ... oh, the flights," Unarah said. She was well sloshed by now, but the men had long ago noted she had a good sound tolerance for spirits. For her size, she could likely drink another bigger person under the table. (In fact, they'd tried doing just that at a gather, placing bets on her knowing that she'd make a fool out of the buggers who tried...) "But what if I don't ... like him?"

"From what I've heard," Vaylos said, much more attuned to riders, since he had himself been Searched as a youth but never was found by the right dragon, "a dragon's flight makes for a much more rewarding experience on the ground."

"Doesn't going between change things too?" Witter asked, not generally as up on dragon-related things as his friend. "I heard?"

"It does," Unarah said, her face falling a little. "I suppose it makes sense to have babies first - sensible virtue or no, if I'm not able to have children later, that would be a bit of a pity."

"Oh it just means you'll want to try harder," Vaylos said, again with an elbow in his gut...

It seemed to Unarah that things were a bit more stressful after her Search, but that made sense in most ways. There were only a few candidates available, so Unarah felt both worried and elated.

"How can so many feelings come at once?" She said, trying to sew two small items together and failing. "I mean... oh I just can't do this," she put down the cloth, and Witter gazed at her softly.

"I've heard," he said, "it's not unlike having an orgasm, to bond to a dragon's mind."

Of course, Unarah blushed again.

When the dragons began to hum, a distinct and eerie sound that Unarah thrilled to hear, it was after supper and everyone started donning their robes or filing down to the hatching sands. It seemed quite strange - though Unarah was accompanied at least to the candidate's entrance by her ever-present vintner and weaver, she felt quite alone. Something gnawed at her, maybe it was the fruit from dinner, but ... Everyone who was supposed to be on the sands would be arriving by dragon-back, and Unarah waved good bye to Witter and Vaylos as she ascended into the night sky on a gorgeous bronze.

She didn't have any fear of flight, though she did cling somewhat indelicately to the rider's waist as they descended sharply into the hatching sands. There were other girls, they arrived with her, they were all nervous.

Soon enough, the eggs which had been gently rocking while Unarah and the other candidates had been led in, started shaking more violently. The first to come from his shell was, of all things, a bronze, and this caused a bit of muttering in the small assembled crowd.

A bronze? from ... a blue and green's clutch? Now that was - wait, there was also a gold egg! Something was very odd, though Unarah knew she'd seen the egg before and knew that it had in fact come from the pair of smallish dragons... gold? Bronze?

Yes, Philippe was right: there was some explaining to do. Especially when a second bronze hatched! A pair of greens - light and dark toned - also hatched, while the gold-tinted egg shook strongly. Another green and another bronze hatched, leaving Unarah to wonder - as Philippe did - about there not being any blues or even browns to round out this odd light-dark clutch.

Others started toward the bumbling hatchlings, but Unarah stayed put, near the queen egg for whatever reason. Maybe she thought more highly of herself than she realized - or maybe...

When that egg shattered open it was quite violently, so she and the others had to shield themselves from the broken shell. As the other dragons on the sands found their proper lifemates, the golden hatchling emerged. She paled to a silverish white on her hind end and tail, a lovely light-gold.

Unarah felt a pang of hunger, very sharp, very urgent. At first she thought it might just be gas - but it didn't go away and certainly wasn't gas!

Food? I want something to eat... now! The little dragonet chirped along with her mind.

And it was ... a lot ... like having that orgasm which Witter mentioned. Inside her whole mind, her whole body, Unarah knew this little dragon.

"Nariath! Of course you can have something to eat!" Unarah laughed, recieving the wonderful! from Nariath as they exited toward the feeding chamber nearby. Nothing else mattered. Nothing. She'd impressed. A gold, Unarah was a gold rider now.

Her head spun, and she laughed while helping keep Nariath from overeating. "I'll spin and spin like thread," she said, "not the bad kind of thread...." But Nariath didn't really know what she meant, and was groggy. By the time the dragonet was having her first true nap, the feast for the new riders was begining, and thus was Unarah's new life.

***

Unarah and Nariath practiced every day, both of them growing stronger. Of course, Nariath was going to grow quite strong, eventually. This proud and lovely light-gold was an inspiration to Unarah - and her dear friends. Of course Unarah couldn't really spend a lot of time with Vaylos and Witter, but the time they did share was almost always intensely rewarding.

She would tell them of the practice runs, how Nariath was begining to be strong enough to carry her on her back and actually lift off the ground. And they would tell her how much quieter and boring their lives had gotten. When Unarah flew for the first time, truly flew on her own dragon, it was cause for such celebration with them that Vaylos brought out a bottle of wine that he'd been saving since he'd begun brewing it the year before: when she Impressed.

"And I have something else for you, my dear," Witter said, with a grin as their girl indelicately toasted herself and the generosity of her friends.

Witter presented Unarah with a beautiful robe, shimmering in the same gorgeous colors as her dragon. A rich metallic golden shade at the neckline, drifting into a silvery-white-gold that caught the light at the hem.

"Oh look at you," Vaylos clucked as though he was Unarah's mother. "You're beautiful. So... When is your dragon going to rise, eh? Eh?" He nudged Unarah who burst into wine-addled laughter at the thought.

***

Color: light gold
Adult Length: 38'6"
Adult Height to Shoulder: 10'10"
Color Size: small gold
Genetic Code: XGWdF XgWDF Rr bb Hh ll UU C1C2 T1T1 OO (ss N1N2) M1M1

Values and Goals
Enjoys deeply: their appearance
Enjoys: underground caverns
Average goal: locate something lost
Very weak fear: being neglected

All of their clothes were woven by hand, mostly their own

Crafting Guild: Weaving - lacemaking, Status: new journeyman
Other Skill picked up around Guild folk: ancient studies

Originally From: island community
Location size: kind of large
Location climate: moderate