Fandom: Dragonriders of Pern
Characters: Menolly, Domick, brief Talmor
Tags: Journeywoman Menolly, aged-down Domick, mentor and mentee, social favors, probably not Pern timeline compliant, non-canon compliant
"Has it been a long time since you rode a-dragonback?"
Domick looked up from the sheet of music he was studying, and frowned. He'd been lost in thought as he and Menolly waited for Talmor. The journeyman was late for their afternoon rehearsal, but he'd promised to attend.
Domick cast back in his mind before answering the journeywoman sitting before him. "It's been a few years at least…there was a commission for a wedding composition and then the performance at Benden Hold about four years ago. Yes, I think riding out for that performance was my last trip."
"Oh," Menolly replied, but didn't say more. She looked down and fiddled with the knobs on her already-tuned guitar.
Domick squinted at her. Five years into her time at the Harpercraft Hall, and she still behaved in that modest, deferential manner anytime she had a favor to ask. It irritated him at first, but at some point it had simply become one more thing he knew about her.
"What are you wanting?" he asked bluntly.
Menolly looked up sharply, then grinned. "Sorry. I should ask straight out, shouldn't I? I'm so used to employing a subtle method with all these ego-driven holders I've met…"
Domick grinned, too. "Not to mention ego-driven Masters. It's good to have you back at the Hall for a season. I was worried you'd lose your touch, playing only the popular tunes. And composing on your own, you're as good as you've ever been."
"Ha! Better when I can get you to look over my work," Menolly insisted. "Anyway, my question…it's a personal one."
Domick quirked an eyebrow, silently encouraging her to continue.
"I received a letter from my brother Alemi. Actually, it's an invitation. He's getting married at my home hold in another month. I…well, as you know…I haven't gone back to Half-Circle since I came to live at Harper Hall. Alemi's gone to great lengths in the letter to reassure me that I'm welcome, if I'm willing to come…" Menolly trailed off.
"But you don't want to go alone, I take it?" Domick replied, surprised that she would bring up such a sensitive topic with him.
For what purpose? They were close, but he wouldn't consider himself her confidant. More like a mentor, and daily speeding toward becoming peers, if her rate of learning and skill continued apace. Domick thought it likely she would secure her mastery in another couple of years, in fact.
Menolly bit her bottom lip, worrying it slightly in hesitation. Then she asked in a rush, "Would you come with me?"
Alarmed, Domick stared at her. "Me? Why?"
"Well…" Menolly, having gathered her nerve in the way he knew all too well, settled the guitar body against her chest and held up the fingers of both hands, ticking off points as she listed them. "First, you're polite, but you don't give a shard what anyone thinks of you. Second, you play excellent music and it's a wedding. If I'm going, I want to help Harper Elgion and I can't think of a better flutist or guitarist. Third, you're a great dancer. It'll stand me in good stead with the women of the hold if I bring someone with a sense of rhythm."
Menolly paused, reluctant to continue.
"Fourth, if I have to face my parents--and this is extremely selfish of me--I'd appreciate having a favorable and approving Craftsmaster with me. In essence, a walking verification of my accomplishments. Alemi says my songs have reached even Half-Circle, but the way I left things, or didn't leave them…"
"Yes, I know." Domick frowned, but not angrily. His place and role in the Harper Hall meant he was only ever measured by his musical merit, not his social qualifications. Nonetheless, Menolly's frank assessment wasn't bad. Apparently, he was acceptable, or--dare he say--even preferable over other potential escorts.
Domick was well aware of her upbringing prior to arriving at the Harper Hall, passed on to him second-hand by Sebell at some appropriate moment or another. He and Menolly had never really spoken about her father, Seaholder Yanus. They mainly connected over the relationships they had each shared with Petiron, his old master. In all the time he'd known Menolly, she had never asked for anything besides Domick's time and teaching. And in point of fact, she hadn't asked for those, either.
Footsteps echoed outside the practice room, drawing Domick's attention toward the open doorway. He glanced back at the waiting young woman.
"I'll go," he said quickly, surprising himself as much as Menolly.
The smile that lit up her face was brilliant and unexpected. She drew in a breath to respond, but then Talmor strode in, carrying with him the harried attitude of the perpetually late. Domick rolled his eyes as the taller man settled onto a stool, guitar in hand.
"When you're ready, Talmor," Domick said, practiced reproof in his tone.
He looked at Menolly, intending silent commiseration, then did a double-take when he saw she was still smiling that bright smile.
Thank you, she mouthed while Talmor looked down at his music stand.
Domick felt his mouth twist in a crooked half-smile. He pushed the expression back down. Then he cleared his throat, lifted his flute, and tapped out the beat.
