A Fisher... A Baker... A Matchmaker?

Xanadu Weyr – Beach

The unerring range of subdued white rises and falls in a multitude of sandy dunes, creating an endless amount of tiny valleys constantly demolished and rebuilt by the frequent arrival or departure of a dragon. Smoothing out as it slopes gently to the edge of the deep blue water, the sand darkens and a shell here and there stands out for children to collect. The beach itself is set along a low cliff - the height lessoning as one heads eastwards, blocking a portion of the beach from direct access.
The wide wide stretch of water opens up to the east, the far distant shore way beyond the horizon and the beach curves ever so slowly round to east and west, distant arms of land embracing the wind-ruffled Caspian Lake. East leads up to the mouth of the Rubicon River, where the protecting cliff is merely an arms length higher then the sand, and beyond that, a winding road leading out of Xanadu's territory. Westwards, the beach narrows as the cliff swings out, leaving a path wide enough for dragons in single file before cutting in to the sheltered cove designated the Weyrling Beach. However, cut in the cliff face to the north are a variety of rough, wide staircases, providing access to the clearing and to the meadow.

The middle of Fall has brought more clear skies to the rain-plagued Xanadu than Spring and Summer saw. Though the late afternoon is drawing on towards suppertime, the beach is still quite populated, people willing to risk missing the meal to soak up the rare warmth and sunlight to play in the waves or lounge on the sand while supervising little ones at play. One of those is a young woman with two tots, both appear to be about five turns in age, both dark-haired as she is and it's a pretty good guess they are her offspring. Dressed in shorts, as most folks are Thea's not wearing a knot as the trio wade at the water's edge, daring only their bare feet to the chilly water, laughing over trivial things amongst themselves and calling an occasional greeting to people they know.

Walking along the beach is a young teenage girl with a dark skinned complexion. Upon the shoulder of her dress bears a bakerscraft apprentice knot with Ista colours that looks rather brandnew, over a scar that reaches from shoulder to elbow. Perched upon her other shoulder is a young green flitter that looks a couple months old, peeking through the viel of hair at Briana's neck. The teen is carrying her shoes in her hands as she walks along the edge of the water, watching the play out in the surf with a curious gaze.

Waves wash over bared calves, enveloping them, rising to his thighs, and then washing away onto the sands of the beach. Flandynn holds his own at least a dragonlength from the beachhead, eyes squinted into the breezes off of the sea, one hand gripping the end of a pole, the other hand guiding a fine line. A flick and he sends a fishing line out, out, out into the water, the flicker of a lure and a poor, doomed grub on a hook. Dinner will hopefully be served soon… if he can just catch it.

It's the boy who spots Flandynn, his mother's got her mouth open to greet the girl with the Ista knot on her shoulder as they pass with a ready smile and a, "Hel-" The tot has stopped to stare at the fishing teen, little hand on hips and no inhibition at all with his, "Bet ya won't get one. The grub-eatin ' ones bite better'n the rain." Little know-it-all! His mama is none too pleased, whirling to address the boy with a disapproved gasp, "Muir, apologize!" A quick flick of pale green eyes out there to the teen conveys her mortification before she sends a sidelong look at Briana, a wry half-smile and she finishes, "Hello and welcome to Xanadu, are Ista's Queens well?"

Briana pauses on the beach to watch the young man casting into the water, but not before stepping clear of any reach of getting a hook in the face! As she notes the young one give his knowledge to the fishing lad, Briana can't help but smile though she covers it with a hand over her mouth. Amusement still dances in her golden eyes. Then the woman greets Briana and she blinks at the formal greeting, "Oh…I suppose so ma'am. I think a class just graduated and they all looked mighty healthy and stuff." She says with an uncertainty on how to answer the formal greeting, biting her lower lip thoughtfully and looking around a moment, "I Was just visiting my Uncle and um..the Bakercraft Master." As if she felt need to give a reason for being here.

Flandynn glances over his shoulder as he hears the voice over the sea and the winds. Those very breezes off of the waves cause his dark hair to bisect his gaze, and it is in another gust that he can spot the kid calling out to him, "So, tell me, Master. What do these sly southern fish bite on? Toes?" His turns his head back out towards the open water, giving his line a good twitch. "He is alright, ma'am. Locals know all the good tricks."

To the girl, "Thea, please, and you're…?" She should know this one says the mildly chagrinned expression on the woman's face, lists of names silently cycled through before she gives it up and ends with, "…one of Master Denna's?" The child gets holes seared though the top of his head when instead of an apology, it's a stubborn, "But it's t'truth, da says so!" Note, he's not looking at his mother but the teen out there, the jaw-jut disappears with a look of triumph snuck mother-wards before answering promptly with a giggle, "Not toes! V'tols." Thea just sighs and offers the teen a bit of a smile and a "Not from around here?" Not so much prying as deflecting her bad-mannered son. At least one of her children is behaving, stopping a step or two away to dig a little shell from the sand.

Briana's eyes widen as the woman introduces herself, "Oh…the …sorry Ma'am…weren't not knot on your shoulder.." She starts before taking a deep breath as if trying to settle herself, "I am Briana..and not not Denna's kid, her craft's newest apprentice." She starts and glances about the Weyr briefly before looking to the woman, "Used to live here when I was your kid's age…" She starts, her words a little rushed, "My uncle just came back and reckon I would visit with him as well.."

"V'tols. Never saw what would attract a fish to one of those, all wings and not at all belonging in the sea. But I guess it stands to reason, liking a touch of the exotic," reasons Flandynn, dark eyes moving from line to child and back again. "Think you can find me a V'tol, Master? The kind a fish would just love to climb onto my hook to get at?" His voice lifts again, "Aye, ma'am. Poaching a fish or three… or maybe just seaweed." His mouth shuts though as Briana speaks to Thea, glancing to her with a faint grin.

With a dance of amusement in the ice-green of her eyes, Thea just gives Briana a little headshake coupled with a grin, "The. Close. Try it with me, Briana. Thee-ah." The little girl skips up, shell in hand in time to hear Denna mentioned, eyes the knot on Briana's shoulder with eyes so like her mother's and questions sweetly, "Do you know how to make cookies yet?" Figures she'd recognize that knot. As for Muir, he's feeling all self-important now. "Can't catch v'tols. Y'gotta make a trap for those." His dark eyes glitter with interest in the older lad, taking in his gear. The Weyrwoman doesn't seem too worried about the fish, "The sea belongs to us all, but don't you be going hungry. There's plenty of dinner in the caverns, ah…?" Hinting might prompt him to reveal his name? "Briana could show you where." Sly woman, she is.

"Yes, Weyrwoman Thea…the harpers taught me the names…" Briana says more clearly now that she has calmed herself from the surprise. As the girl comes up and asks her about cookies Briana relaxes even further, "Yes, I do and bubblies too. I make a mixed bubbly with spices in the pastry that taste very nice." She says with a bright sound to her voice. This is something she could talk long on for certain. At the offer of showing the young man to the cavern, Briana looks over to him and nods, "That I do remember how to get to for certain."

Flandynn eventually draws in his line, to see that poor, drowned grub dangling rather limply from the hook, just as pristine as when he went in, only quite a bit more wet. "Not so noble an end for you," the teen drawls to the grub, plucking it from the hook and dropping the thing into the water. Tossing his head back to free his gaze once more from dark hair that seems to prefer to flick over his eyes. He slowly wades back, damp to his thighs, licking the salt from his lips. "And here I am without a trap," he notes to Muir. Something Briana says (probably the food) causes the teen to purse his lips, free hand flattening against a concave stomach, "Be still my stomach. Words like that are apt to send a guy like me to swoon, lady."

Thea doesn't push to have the title Weyrwoman dropped, but by the look on her face, she'd be happy to dispense with formality altogether. It's no secret around Xanadu that she's the least formal of the goldriders there, much to the chagrin of many. "Ma-rel-laaa…!" There's a warning note to that one word and the child complies with a dimpled, "I'm Marella, well-met-ya." After a half-executed little curtsey, she's on to more important things, one sandy little hand reaching for Briana's if she can snag it, "Can we keep her momma?" Because. Bubblies! "Me too," Muir's response to the teen is full of woe, "An' no candy, either." Thea's eyes drift from teen to teen over the heads of her children, having noted the omission of a name in the boy's response, but amused nonetheless. "No, Marella, she belongs to Ista."

Briana looks down to the child taking her hand and grins, seems quite happy with the littles, "Well I hope to visit a little more now me uncle's back." She says as compromise for the child. She looks up to Thea as she says she belongs to Ista and she nods, "Yes Ma'am, they took me in and treated me proper when they didn't have ta." Then the young man's comment causes her cheeks to darken slightly, "Well then you are like most lads then…food bring you the most pleasure." She teases in return before she hears her name up the beach and looks around apologetically, "Sorry, I got to get, one of the Journeyman said he would teach me a couple of recipes to practice." She says an gives a dip of her head to each before turning and running up the beach.

Flandynn drops his chin a tad as Briana moves along, giving his stomach a pat of placation. To be tempted so and then have the one who spoke those delicious sounding words continue along away from him. It is a travesty. His eyes follow her for a moment before finding the boy, then along to Thea, "Your hospitality is generous, ma'am. If you could point me in the direction of the cavern…"

One hand is snagging Marella from dashing off after the Baker, the other reaching for Muir, who certainly will try to attach himself to the fisher-man newcomer like a leech given the chance. Hands busy, she gestures cavern-wards with her chin, "Don't let her get away," the Weyrwoman advises lowly in an aside to the teen in the wake of the departing Briana. "She'll be whisked off to the kitchen, so if you hurry, you can catch up. They'll pass right through the dining caverns." The trio make no move to head off the beach, rather looking like their walk will continue as they take a few steps further along the shore. "And Young Man," Thea calls sweetly after him, "The nights are chilly lately. Ask for Headwoman Ocelara if you've need of a bed tonight." It's just a hunch, but he looks… a little wild. Sadly she won't be there to see her Assistant realize she's been promoted.

Flandynn's dark eyebrows lift after the woman's words, lending to a rather obvious blink and then an almost shy smile. What makes it all the worse is the fact that his dimples deepen. "Flandynn, ma'am. Flandynn. I'll… look the Headwoman up, thank you." Again, his chin drops, only to have the young man sketch a quick bow, clearly learned from some flamboyant Harper somewhere. It is all the more dramatic with that fishing pole in one of his hands, that managed to miss whipping anyone in the eye. "Thank you." With that said, he heads off down beach.

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