Re: Welcome Party for a 'Craftling' ((All Weyrlings, WLMs, Ambrelli, Z'go, Dytha, and R'bor))


She'd gotten settled into her wallow earlier, gotten Ilexeth settled as well, the little green more than eager and not nearly wanting to sleep.  Still, it was with a forceful mental push that Ambrelli got the grayish green settled to sleep.  Truth be told, she would have preferred to just settle into the wallow herself, curl up with Ilexeth, and awake a few days later.  But she couldn't.  WLM Ko'ssen had gone through much trouble to do this, and it wasn't just about her.  It was about everyone else, and all of that, in turn, affected Ilexeth.  Besides, it wasn't as if going to a party was the worst thing she'd ever forced herself to do.  But as Z'go said, was it a party of there wasn't wine?  

He'd promised her he'd come as well, though he normally was banned from the barracks.  She'd sensed a reticence in his demeanor to come in here, but she had not pushed him on it.  Theirs was a relationship built on blind trust, and she'd never asked him to explain himself before and she wasn't about to start now.  He'd been so good through all this, better than she'd hoped at first, well feared.  Besides, this was her issue, her anxiety that needed calming, and it was hers to bear with or without him.  She'd heard Dytha had been invited, along with R'bor.  She could have hoped Master Larsin would come as well, for she appreciated him very much.  He could have said no to all the plans and compromises that WLM Ko'ssen had made for her to continue her studies.  But he hadn't.  And she was more grateful to him than he could know.  

She was stalling, she realized, losing herself in thoughts rather than get dressed.  She'd debated briefly over what to wear.  Ko'ssen wanted her the centerpiece for this event, then so be it.  Quickly, she called for Maerck, the flit silent as commanded, even though he pressed against his mistress.  Ilexeth hadn't minded him, and the brown had split time between her and Z'go, enjoying the attention of both.  But here, in the Barracks, he was not allowed.  But he was also not a young ill-mannered flit, the brown being nearly 20 Turns, and he was well trained and listened.  Which was good, because Ambrelli sent him to fetch a few things from her weyr....

...And so a short time later, she showed up to her own party, dressed very much the part of the main event.  She wore a long dress, a white floral pattern on a field of mauve, with long flowing sleeves cuffed at the wrist, and a plunging neckline down to just a handspan above a gathered waistband.  On anyone else, it would have been scandalous, but Ambrelli's mild curves diminished the daring effect.  The fabric was finely woven, and the colors highlighted by the raw golden stones dipped in metal and hung from a chain about her neck.  Smaller petite versions hung about her ears, nearly hidden by her dark hair that was half gathered about her face.  She was stunning, and the finery she wore, while subtle, made clear that she was not an ordinary weyrling.  She was, after all, unexpected...

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