The Dragonsfall Summit
Dragonsfall Weyr
Amber Hills Hold
Vintner Hall
Healer Hall
Hidden Meadows
Dolphin Cove Weyr
Dolphin Hall
Emerald Falls Hold
Harper Hall
Printer Hall
Green Valley Hold
Leeward Lagoon Hold
Barrier Lake Weyr
Sunstone Seahold
Citrus Bay Hold
Writers: Corrin, Duskdog, Halyonix, Heather, Yvonne
Date Posted: 3rd June 2025
Characters: I'serin, Saibra, Oselle, Rathandra, N'dhavi, M'kadja, Evanram
Description: The Weyrleaders meet with the Holdless to plan out the duration of their stay at the Weyr.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 5, day 7 of Turn 12
The stage was set, but all of the actors had yet to appear before the
curtain. An act. That was what this felt like to Saibra as she rubbed
one delicate finger along the gleaming, polished wood of the
conference room table. She’d held many meetings in this very room, but
none as unusual as the one that was happening today. Weyrleaders
meeting with Holdless. Who would have ever dreamed?
In the center of the table on silver platters were sandwiches, freshly
made on the bread baked that very morning by the kitchens. Pitchers of
juice and klah also took up residence in the center, waiting to fill
the cups set by each of the chairs.
They, she and I’serin, had been assured by one of the Holdless,
Evanram, that only a handful of the ‘them’ would be attending the
meeting. She hoped they had enough food for everyone. Although a part
of her doubted if anyone would have an appetite for it.
“Thank you for having the refreshments made, Oselle,” she said to her
Headwoman, who was seated to her left.
“You’re welcome.” The Headwoman dipped her head in acknowledgement.
Perhaps it was too much food for a meeting, but Oselle had also
intended it as a subtle reminder of the Weyr’s reach" and influence.
The cheeses were from Amber Hills Hold, the dried fruit from Emerald
Falls, and the cups were embossed with the Smithhall’s mark.
I’serin strode in, pausing momentarily to take in the details, the
setting of the room, before nodding politely at the two women and
taking the seat on Saibra’s right. “I could not find much to go on
from histories,” he reported sadly, “as most interactions with
Holdless are brief and under far different circumstances.” Deprived of
historical context to pull from, I’serin felt more nervous than usual.
He was not a fan of “winging it.”
“I don’t think you need me there. I should probably just go back to
the tents. The aunties could use help with the children.” Rathandra
said, pulling her arm free of Evanram’s.
“Rath,” he turned, catching her elbow, but his grip was far from
biting. Gentle and firm was what it was. “I need you in this. You’re
the trained harper here, not me. You know the etiquette, you know the
rules of the Weyr and Hold. I need you in there to hear everything
they say.”
Rathandra had not thought of herself as a harper in the Turns she’d
been living holdless with Evanram, but the training was still there,
still rooted in her memory. “Fine,” she agreed.
Some of the others were trailing behind them, and Evanram turned to
them before they entered. “Remember, let’s hear what they have to
say,” he cautioned. Then he opened the door.
“Like we have a choice,” Akadja muttered, but he followed Evanram in.
The scent of bread and klah hit him fresh and strong-- an intimate
reminder of the weyr’s largess, of its power. The dragonfolk’s ability
to provide a veritable feast at the drop of a hat both infuriated and
impressed Akadja. Maybe this meal was meant as another charity, a
kindness, but it arrived on silver platters and that grated too.
He pulled his gaze away from the food to eye the figures at the head
of the table. The woman, the Weyrwoman, and-- the Weyrleader? The
corner of Akadja’s mouth twitched as he laid eyes on I’serin, a man
who looked to be only a few Turns his elder. Didn’t look any _better_
either, not in any way that mattered.
One of the other men grunted -- maybe appreciatively, maybe in
disdain, hard to tell with just that one sound -- as he looked at the
food, the table, the formality. “Dragonriders,” he grumbled as he sat
at the farthest end.
“Please help yourselves to a sandwich or something to drink,” Saibra
said to the handful of holdless who arranged themselves at the empty
chairs around the table.
Although it was the _last_ chair she wanted, Rathandra somehow found
herself between the Weyrleader, I’serin, the man who’d answered her
flag, and her husband, the man who’d scolded her for placing the flag.
Naldhavi’s eyebrows went up at the sight of the food, and wondered if
it was something thoughtlessly polite -- an offering that just seemed
normal to them, born from largesse they didn’t realize they had -- or
if it was an intentional message of some sort. It was a surprising
variety of things, and… were those smithhall marks on the cups?
Interesting.
He got himself a drink and a bit of cheese. He didn’t want to give the
impression of being ungrateful or spiteful, nor did he want to
over-indulge and send the message that he was taking it for granted,
or would be a potential burden if he were to stay longer.
“Thank you,” he said, inclining his head to their hosts with a smile.
“You weyrfolk are nothing if not gracious hosts.”
The man, the Weyrleader one, rose from his seat. With courtly grace
and tone, he introduced the trio at the head of the table. “Thank you
for joining us. I am Weyrleader I’serin. This is Weyrwoman Saibra and
Headwoman Oselle.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “We
are…aware…that there are a great many questions about your
circumstances. First, allow me to clear the air by saying you are free
to leave at any point. You are not being held against your will. If
you wish to go today, Headwoman Oselle and her team will gladly
resupply you with a few basic items and you can be on your way.”
“S’all I need to know,” someone muttered. “Don’t know how anyone
sleeps here, with all that dragon racket.”
I’serin did not respond to that. “We are also aware of the season and
its dangers. Which is why we wish to determine what _your_ plans are.
The Weyr is able to support a few extra mouths in the short term but
this is not a long term solution.” He looked to Saibra or Oselle to
speak more on that if they wished.
“The turnover for weyrs in the Lower Caverns is unfortunately slower
than the changing of the seasons. I have two families moved into weyrs
in the Lower Caverns already, and there are a few others of you who
are already staying in weyrs that are meant for dragonriders. I can
also make room in the dormitories come the colder weather, however
this is not an ideal solution for those with families,” Oselle
admitted. “And we will have to discuss assigning permanent duties to
those who wish to stay.”
“Which brings us to the crux of today’s discussion,” I’serin added.
There was a slight shift in his tone, steel limning his next words.
“Who among you wishes to stay?”
Evanram looked down the table. He and Rathandra did not lift their hands.
Naldhavi glanced at Akadja. They’d talked about it a bit, and though
he wasn’t sure yet if this place would be a long-term fit for them,
they’d be fools to give up the bounty of the Weyr so soon --
particularly with winter coming. “Akadja and I would like to stay.
We’re strong, I’m sure we can handle whatever duties you think are
appropriate.” The Weyrleader nodded his acknowledgement.
“We’re not,” said someone else. She rose from her seat, all wiry
grace, and fixed a near-defiant look at the leadership trio. “We’ll be
taking those supplies you’re offerin’ and heading out as soon as the
weather clears.”
Oselle nodded. “For those of you who do wish to leave, please let me
know how many of you are there by the end of the sevenday so that I
can gather enough supplies to see you comfortably off.” There were a
few sounds of agreement from others who would be seeking out Oselle
after this conversation.
“With the winter upon us, it will be a few months before you should
safely be able to travel. If you’re wanting to leave sooner than that,
the risk is yours to take. Otherwise, we’re prepared to host you for
the next three months. If you would like to build temporary living
quarters, instead of the tents, that’s also a possibility.” Saibra and
I’serin had already discussed this but she was interested to see how
many of the Holdless would take them up on the offer.
Rathandra shot a sideways look at Evanram. Thoughts seem to pass
between them, even if it was only a glance. Married couples could
sometimes do that - know what the other was thinking in a single look.
“We’ll take you up on that offer,” Evanram said. “The tents are fine
for now, but as the winter deepens, some wooden walls would be nice.
The cold is hard on the children.”
“That was our concern as well,” I’serin agreed, remembering the scared
faces of the youngsters they had rescued. He looked to see if anyone
else would take them up on that offer.
A few others around the table raised their tentative hands.
Last updated on the June 10th 2025