All references to worlds and characters based on Anne McCaffrey's fiction are copyright © Anne McCaffrey 1967,2000, all rights reserved, and used by permission of the author. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is registered U.S. Patent and Trademark Office, by Anne McCaffrey, used here with permission. Use or reproduction without a license is strictly prohibited. For more information, visit the Worlds of Anne McCaffrey.

02-12-00: Lost
Julen ventures down the grand main staircase. Iala meanders in from the dining hall, the wary, if curious, look still...

Julen ventures down the grand main staircase.

Iala meanders in from the dining hall, the wary, if curious, look still plastered to her face. "Oh, hello!" she calls out cheerily to everyone in the main hall, eyes scanning the faces of the crowd eagerly.2/12/00

Hanneke, a rather lost expression taking upon her visage, glances up, tawny curls bobbing about her shoulders as she nods a cheerful greeting towards Iala, and then, noticing Julen, to him as well. The girl clutches upon her tunic, greeting, "Oh, hello."

Faintly forlorn, Julen pads into the main hall with none of the usual zip in his step. The hall's grandeur doesn't faze him, not when this is his tenth time passing through for the day. He's hesitant to approach the older apprentices, but when the girls offer such friendly greetings, his courage is bolstered. "Hi," he begins croakily.

Hanneke isn't an apprentice, but she is older, if not by much, which gives her leave to be slightly--superior? No, that's not something she'd do, at least not intentionally. "I don't think I know you. Either of you." It's not hard: she's only been around a few days. "I'm Hanneke. I'm going to be a Harper."

"Me too," Julen admits in a soft exhalation, "but I'm lost." Hence his consternation.

"So," and Hanneke sounds quite delighted at this -- we'll call her strange, "am I." She doesn't have a good sense of direction.

Julen looks from Hanneke to Iala and back to Hanneke again. "It's just so big," he says resignedly. "I don't know how I'll ever figure it out. The Haven wasn't half as big as this." Not unless you counted the barn, but that was just one big building unto itself.

Hanneke couldn't even navigate her home hold, except from room to Main Hall and back. The necessary things. Smiling brightly, which seems to be a trend, girl nods her head, "It is. Horribly so. I think we need a guide."

Julen glances hopefully at Iala. "Would you know? I'm late for a class." He's got a piece of paper clutched awkwardly in his left hand, on which is printed, in the Masterharper's precise handwriting, his class schedule.

"You're an Apprentice already?" Hanneke doesn't sound jealous, more pleased, in fact. She's not yet managed that fact, probably because she can't find her way to the Masters, in order to be apprenticed. And no, she will never learn to read knots.

Julen's knot is not on his shoulder. "Uh -- probationary apprentice," he says, pronouncing slowly so as not to trip over at the new word. "But I'm supposed to go to some basic classes. My reading and writing's not so good." He's barely literate, in point of fact.

In that case, there was good reason for Hanneke not to know. All very logical. "Oh?" Her face is blank: she has no idea what that means. "You can't read and write? That's--" she's over educated. And still stupid.

"I can," Julen tosses back defensively -- as defensive as one so young can get. "I'm just not so good. I know my alphabet."

Hanneke nods brightly, "That's all right then. I can understand; there's a lot of things that I can't do. Mother says that I can't process information. I don't really know what that means, but--I don't think it matters, do you?" Cheerfully, she drops her tunic from her hands, smiling prettily.

Julen shakes his head slowly; he's a little slow on the processing side himself, though he's younger than the other would-be apprentice. "Is that what you're here to learn?" he wonders politely. "I'm here to learn to sing."

"Yes," affirms Hanneke, with a bob of her head. "Mother says I'm here to learn how to think, and then I'll be able to help her with the records. I don't think that sounds very enjoyable; I'd rather talk to people. Wouldn't you?" She adds, cocking her head to the side, "To sing? That's nice."

Julen shrugs crookedly. "I guess. At least here people don't make fun of me for singing." Though he's been berated for tardiness more than once already.

Hanneke nods firmly: "I'm sure. They won't. Singing is lovely. Do you, by any chance, like to dance?"

Julen immediately looks down at his feet. "I sorta hopped around when we had music at the Haven, but I haven't danced much, not properly -- not like adults dance." He looks back up at Hanneke. "Do apprentices have to learn that too?"

Hanneke wiggles her own feet in vague delight; easily amused, easily delighted. "Oh, I don't know, but I hope so. I think it's just a -lovely- thing to know, and do. I love to dance."

"Maybe they do," Julen offers after prolonged consideration. "I mean -- harpers and dancing. Since they learn singing and writing songs and everything." Adding dance into the mix is only logical.

Hanneke's face brightens: "Oh, wonderful! That's excellent, just great. I'm really excited about that; there's sure to be some decent boys around here to dance with, and they'll actually be nimble on their feet."

Not this boy, though. "Uh huh," Julen glances down at his schedule again, "but I won't learn how to dance unless I get to some of these classes." Help?

Hanneke wrinkles her nose: "I don't know where you're going. I don't--maybe we find someone else, and ask them?" And maybe they'll show her where she needs to go, as well.

Julen casts a searching look about the hall, gesturing to a slightly older senior apprentice who's working on a gitar just a few seats away. "How about him? He looks friendly." And he's not quite as abashed with Hanneke to back him up -- or is he going to back her up?

Hanneke will back Julen up. Maybe. She nods her head, taking a step forward, "Okay. He looks nice enough. Hihi, Apprentice-whose-name-I-don't-know!" There. She'll make the first step.

And Julen lets her do the talking, pegging himself a good two steps behind her.

Hanneke, all bouncy and Hanneke-ish, beams at the older apprentice, "Can you tell us where--what class is it you wanted? And where the offices of the Masters are. So that I can be apprenticed, too."

Julen silently shows the gitar-laden apprentice his paper, his other hand held behind his back. "I'm late, I think," is all he offers.

The Apprentice points his hand in one direction: "Left, then right, then left again. You better run; Master Dunwin is a nasty old guy." Hanneke is also given a direction, and she repeats it, although her glance towards the opposite direction to that which she was directed is a bad start.

While Julen pays very careful attention to his own directions. "Th-thank you," he murmurs to the apprentice, bobbing his head politely, then looking up at Hanneke. Is she okay?

Hanneke, okay? Probably not. "Do you know where you're going then?" she asks, still glancing in the wrong direction. At this rate, she will -never- get apprenticed, because she'll never get there.

There's a ballad waiting to be written about her exploits, then. "Uh huh." Julen nods, silently repeating the directions to himself. "I guess I'll see you at dinner or something?"

Probably an opera. At least. "At dinner?" if she can find her way back without getting really lost, "Sure, okay."

"Okay," Julen agrees, steeling himself for the journey to class and the chastisement that awaits him. "Nice meeting you," he remembers to say before scooting off.

"You, too," agrees Hanneke striding in the opposite direction.