Matters of Lords and Forks
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, Estelle
Date Posted: 10th November 2025
Characters: Sybana, L'keri
Description: L'keri asks Sybana for some help with etiquette
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 11, day 20 of Turn 12
Notes: Mentioned: L'val, K'mai
The eggs had been on the Sands for a sevenday now, and the idea of the Hatching, which had seemed so far off and unlikely, was becoming steadily more real to L'keri. As much as he'd joked about it with his wingmates, he couldn't shake off a very unfamiliar sense of unease. Not about the Hatching itself, of course - he was certain that every dragonet that emerged from Galgaith and Rhalith's eggs would find a worthy lifemate - but about the celebration that was to come after.
Usually, Hatching feasts were everything he loved about weyrlife. Celebrating the arrival of new dragonkind with his wingmates in the crowded heat and bright lights of the dining cavern. Singing too loudly, eating too much, laughing too hard at silly jokes. Flirting with a delightful greenrider and persuading her to dance. Making fun of the bronzeriders, dressed up in their finery, forced to make polite conversation with the holder and crafter guests...
For one evening only, that was going to be _him_. And there was no way to wriggle out of it.
Usually L'keri never had trouble sleeping. Either he'd drift off as soon as he fell into bed, or he'd be doing something far more interesting. But now, worrisome thoughts intruded. How did you address a Lord Holder? Were you supposed to bow, or salute? What did you talk _about_? The questions swirled around his mind until he was too exhausted to stay awake any longer. Should he ask a Harper? L'val? Or...
Then he remembered K'mai's suggestion. He'd put it out of his mind before, but the more he thought of it, the more obvious it seemed. Who would know better how to behave in distinguished company than a lady? And if nothing else, it might distract her from thoughts of the size of the clutch, the holdless candidates, and all the other potential disasters that might occur.
As soon as he was free the next day, he and Rhalith made their regular visit to the hatching cavern, both bearing gifts - a plump wherry for Galgaith, and a tray from the kitchens for her rider. Together, they paused at the edge of the sands for one courtesy that was familiar to all dragonriders: waiting for the queen to give her permission to approach the eggs.
The gold's head lifted as Rhalith and his rider appeared, her eyes flashing a restless amber before settling into slow, assessing green. They were a familiar sight now, that plus the wherry quickly had her relaxing back into the sands with a pleased (guttural) rumble and calling for the brown to join her.
A moment later Sybana was there, framed in glowlight in the mouth of the cavern-weyr. After her first few days of confinement, with no one really to see and absolutely nowhere to go, it would have only been human for her to relax her habits and perhaps spend a day in her pajamas or at least comfy blouse and drawstring trousers. But that wouldn't be Sybana.
Even now, over a sevenday into her vigil, she was still doing her hair each morning and dressing in that almost gather-formal way of hers. It didn't matter that she might see no one but Galgaith and whoever the kitchens sent. It gave her something to do. A shred of dignity and normalcy in an uncomfortable situation.
"Are you here to rescue me from boredom again?" she asked, brightening at the sight of her staunchest ally. "Come in off the sands, it's much more comfortable in here."
L'keri followed her, curious to see inside the goldrider's weyr, which had always been off limits to the likes of him. It felt unusual to him to live anywhere that wasn't open to the outside world, with a ledge from which a dragon could take flight. Still, he couldn't deny it was deliciously warm, and private, with Galgaith on guard outside.
"I've actually come to ask a favor." He set the tray down on a table, and looked up at her with his most disarming smile. "But I didn't come empty-handed, and I do hope it won't bore you."
"A favor?" Sybana echoed, intrigued, as she joined him at the table. "Well, now I'm curious. I'm out of books to read and it'll be a while before Zariah can bring me more. What is this possibly boring favor you need?"
"Well..." L'keri rubbed the back of his neck in an uncharacteristic show of embarrassment. "You might have noticed that I'm not exactly the refined type. I'm pure weyrbrat, grew up running wild around the caverns of River Bluff. Now, I can follow orders and obey the Wingleaders..." - which was stretching the truth a little - "...but I couldn't tell one high-born holder from another, let alone know how to talk to them, or which fork to use, and with the Hatching coming up, it's been on my mind." He met her gaze entreatingly. "I don't want to disgrace you. So I thought, maybe, you could help me. Smooth off the rough edges a little."
"You want high etiquette from me, now?" Sybana asked, an incredulous smile brightening her features. She laughed, "I break so much of it these days!"
It struck her as wonderfully ironic that he'd turn to her for help on etiquette when she herself was going through a small crisis on the matter. The weyr was a different world, one she was still learning to survive in. The simple act of inviting him into her quarters had been a scandalous rebellion against her upbringing. But it _was_ more comfortable inside and besides, it was L'keri. The prohibition in the holds was meant to protect her honor, but since her goldflight, everyone _knew_ she had been with him. That was her strange new reality.
"Still, I suppose I haven't gone completely native," she admitted blithely. "I can definitely guide you in matters of Lords and Forks. It'll be useful even beyond the hatching feast. The right word in the right manner can open doors for you all across Pern."
"Indeed." L'keri took a seat, wondering idly if that included bedroom doors. If so, this etiquette business was going to be more useful than he'd imagined. However, novice as he was in the art of polite conversation, he didn't think that a suitable topic to bring up at Sybana's table. "Thank you - I'm very grateful, and it should give you a way to pass the time, at least. So, where do we begin?"
Sybana uncovered the tray and began to lay out the silverware. "Let's start with forks."
"Right. I didn't even know there was more than one type until I saw the place settings for the high rankers." L'keri picked up one of the forks and studied it with a baffled air. "They all look the same to me. Made from metal, with three prongs. What difference does it make?"
"Quite a lot of difference," Sybana laughed, plucking the fork back from him and laying it neatly down beside its brothers. "See? There's subtle variation in shape and size. It's about having the perfect tool for the job, so you can be as efficient and as elegant as possible while dining-- and it's about showing respect for yourself and others. Now, pay attention..."
L'keri obediently leaned forward to observe as she pointed out the different uses to which forks could be put, although how much attention he was paying to the niceties of choosing your cutlery, and how much to the pretty goldrider giving the lesson, remained to be seen..
Last updated on the November 28th 2025