Two young women could never be more opposite yet perfectly alike -- especially if they were to come from one set of parents!

Beena and Misota were born exactly one candlemark apart, Misota was first, though born quiet and almost appearing dead at first. Beena brought with her loud cries and a certain fight to the world.

Beena is outgoing and very quick witted, always with an observation and quip for the moment. Misota on the other hand watches with her eerie pale eyes and lends her own quiet commentary. Both of them are apt to do things on the spur of the moment, hardly any warning.

At an early age, people assumed that they were either foster sisters or Misota was some kind of mutant. Both of them have the same ruffled grey-white hair, though, and while they don't look much alike, they act with the same cat-like grace in every movement.

Misota's skin is very pale, yet she does not mind being in the sun. It does burn quickly, yet she never tans, and she only waves off comments about how she should stay in the shade.

Beena's quick smile and cute speech aside, she knows that she is not the smarter of the pair and defers to her sister for all but matters of the heart.

Both of them are simply shameless flirts and matchmakers!

At the age of 18 turns now, they have been meaning to strike out on their own in the world. Coming from a strange mixed background of dragon riders, beast crafters and vintners, Beena and Misota want to make their marks on the world.

If one of them impresses, the other is very likely to do so as well, though their dragons might be as different as they are, night and day!

"Girls, will you please settle down?" The Harper asked, gruff voice clear over the giggling of the pair of twin-opposites. They looked up from their 'work', and both went silent. But both went with clear grins on their faces. The Harper rolled his eyes and attempted to continue speaking about a ballad for predicting Fall across water without a starstone...

It wasn't working.

Beena raised her hand, and the Harper smacked his lips before saying, "yes, Beena?"

She drew in a deep breath. "Well, I was thinking that if you didn't have a starstone you wouldn't be near a weyr. And if you're not near a weyr, you're going to get threaded on anyway, so if you don't have a starstone and you don't have a weyr, you'd better be in a cave or a stone hold or something. It's just not right to be out without that stuff when you're not near a weyr. Unless you're on a dragon, and that means you could just go between, so that you could get back to the weyr and get your firestone and--"

"YES Beena, that is essentially correct," sighed the Harper loudly. "But what this ballad is trying to express is that there are ways to KNOW when--"

"But if Thread is coming, dragons will be in the sky, already. Because they know where Thread is falling, because they have star stones." Put in a quiet Misota. Her words rang through the class and the Harper had nothing to say for half a moment.

Until, "Misota, Beena, could I speak with you privately AFTER our ballad is learned?"

They both grinned widely, and nodded as one.

***

Later, when the sun was striking through the colored windows of this lovely Hold they lived in, Beena and Misota watched the Harper pace. He had been assigned this Hold to teach for his Journeyman stint, though he was an older man, apparently coming from another craft as a youth, and getting into Harpering because he couldn't lift an axe or something. Neither young woman cared much for him, he was unattractive and walked with a certain stoop, and one of his hands had apparently been crushed. Probably the reason he was now a Harper. He looked at them and squinted, as the sun was directly behind them.

Ablan Hold always had been their home, but not their birth place. Their great-uncle or cousin twice removed or somesuch was a vintner here, their ancestress a gold rider or other, and certain other people wandered through their lives frequently, lending them an ease that they showed off when confronted by...

"Girls, I won't bother to mince words with you. I realize that you both know the meaning behind the ballads, and you understand the importance of knowing many things..." He glared at them, the sun striking his eyes, "but you must not think for a moment that everyone else in this Hold already knows what you apparently do."

"Our mother knew many things," said Misota.

"And father and uncle always visited to tell us stories." Put in Beena, directly afterward.

The Harper sighed. "Yes. But unless you feel like sharing that as Harpers with your hold mates, you should remember to remain SILENT while I teach them. If you already know... I will not object to the occasional ... 'help'... but you need to keep your sweet little mouths quiet for a change."

"Hmp," Beena said, tucking her arms together over her chest. "That's no way to treat us."

"It certainly is not," growled Misota. "Journeyman, did you know that this Hold has been protected from Threadfall not by dragon kind, but by technology, for almost its entire existance?"

She turned her pale face toward the window, where the light coming through it changed her skin to a stunning amber-blood color. "Ablan Hold is nowhere near a weyr. Yet, we have no starstones. We need only communicate quickly. Many of our elders have fire lizards trained at the edges of our territory that come when Thread is falling, in time to alert us."

"Then we take our measures to protect the cherry trees and fields." Beena said, liking that part of her life. "It's amazing when they roll out that stuff. Heavy."

"Like metal silk," Misota said, thinking on it. "If only you could make it into clothing..." Her grey-blue eyes sought out her sister's green, and they seemed to communicate with each other without speech.

"*ahem*" said the Harper, after a moment. The sisters ignored him, thoroughly. He sighed deeply, and left a note on a piece of wherhide that if they wanted to become harpers, starcrafters or whatever, they could do it on their own time, but to please stay away from his classes in the future.

***

"It's not going to come here," Beena said, flatly, of the dragon which soared overhead.

"He will. You watch. Perhaps not this afternoon." Misota leaned against the outer wall of the Hold and chewed on a long stem of grass. There was long grass simply everywhere on her, particularly her hair. Beena picked out another long piece of it from her sister's pale mane, and tossed it toward the feline which strutted nearby. He of course pounced upon it.

"Why would they come here? They never want anything here."

"On a Search they would," Misota said, "I think. And don't you want to be searched?"

"What, for a dragon? Well!" Beena sat on the rounded stone near the bottom of the wall. "Of course I would."

"Then don't knock it. They'll be back."

"And look at you," Beena muttered. "Search rider comes here they'll only find a haystack and some torn leathers."

"I couldn't help it. The filthy beast wouldn't stop running."

"If you'd just let it come to you," Beena laughed, "that silly goat would have been in its pen candlemarks ago."

Misota rolled her eyes. "Beena, that little pest ate my best skirt! ATE it!" Misota held up the tattered edge of her skirt, and let it fall back again in disgust when she heard the bleating of the animal in its pen behind them.

"You got too close."

"I was feeding the sharded thing. Oooh, anyway, I would love to soar... Remember when we got our last ride?" Misota looked up at her dark sister with a gleam in her eyes.

"I do, and I remember how you nearly jumped off the dragon up there." Beena waved her hand at her face, cooling herself off. "I almost died!"

"I did almost jump," Misota said, with a grin. "It was wonderful. And besides, Sixth would never have let me really fall."

"You and that dirty old man, I swear." Beena made a noise, "Sixth is a cute little guy but... eesh."

Leaning onto her sister's knees, Misota purred, "I *like* older men..."

"Eeew!" Beena giggled, "not THAT old! And besides, he's like our great-great something or other relative!"

Misota pressed her pale finger on Beena's deep mahogony skin, "maybe YOUR relative."

"Don't start that," Beena groaned. Then, her green eyes sparkled when she looked into the low hills nearby. "Oooh, lookit. Someone is coming for a visit. And I know who it is."

"It's Robbyn," Misota said, with a catlike grin on her little lips.

"Of course it's Robbyn, but... What in the world is he wearing? To the Hold's gather?"

The girls looked at one another, and sprinted to the young man they were both unhealthily attracted to, and cornered him before he made a fool of himself at Ablan yet again...

"Robbyn!" Beena screeched, loudly. "Are you AWARE that you're not wearing clothes??!"

Her ever-so-slightly older and far-more-calm sister appraised Robbyn with a glance, and grinned quietly.

Robbyn glanced down at himself, and then back up at the grey-haired pair. "...Yes?" He said, and then more defensively he added, "I'll have you know these are all the rage right now!" He indicated his skimpy blue thong and strange bow-tie.

"Yeah, maybe at Boll Seahold for SWIMWEAR," bellowed Beena, she pointed at the beast pens. "You march your self right in there, mister, and you'll have to wait until we find you something to WEAR before you get half a dragonlength closer to the Hold!"

Robbyn did as he was told, but pouted. His long face brightened when he stepped into the nearest stall. "I could put this on," he said of a brightly-colored woven runner blanket.

"You will do nothing of the sort!" Screeched Beena, and even Misota cringed.

"Beena... Why not go see if there are any tunics or something laying about. I'm sure that there are, it's been busy with the harvest and all. Lots of things get left around when there's work being done."

Beena nodded and hurried off.

Left in the beast pen, avoiding the annoying little goat which had eluded Misota in favor of a romp through the uncut grasses near the vinyards, Robbyn and Misota glanced at one another slyly.

Robbyn noticed that the girl's short leather skirt had obvously been mauled by the goat, it had the distinct chew-marks and missing bits. Yet, the girl's smile said she'd completely forgotten the skirt.

Minutes later, Misota and Robbyntym were rolling as it were, in the hay.

***

"Oh TELL me you didn't!" Beena yelled, adding her exasperated foot-stomp as she flung a tunic toward the pair. They were both grinning like complete idiots and were still in a state of shall-we-say disarray when Beena came back to the beast pens.

"You both belong here," she said, and turned on her heel. "By the way, the dragon did land, Misota. It's a blue search dragon."

Misota was up in a moment, and she threw the tunic at Robbyn. "Put that on and don't you dare mention a thing to the lord Holders, you understand? Don't even speak to them!" She said, a hissing whisper.

"Whatever you say, sweet Misssssota." Robbyn grinned. "Not a word. Not even to the search rider?"

"Of course you speak to the search rider. IF they talk to you first, you ninny." Misota cuffed him on the shoulder and they followed a stomping Beena back to the Hold.

"And this young lady is...?"

"Spoken for," said a young man, pushing his way between the rider and the Journeywoman vintner in question. She giggled and the rider moved on. He saw a clump of three people, remaining close to one another as friends or relatives -- or lovers -- would. The girls both had mops of grey hair, the boy was a redhead. And they all looked a little more rumpled than they ought at such a formal party.

The pale skinned girl kept pulling her skirt down a bit, with an angry look at its rough hemline now and again. The dark skinned one seemed both miffed and entranced with the boy. And the boy... Something odd about him, thought the rider. V'tar walked toward them.

The trio looked up as if startled, the dark skinned girl nearly jumped out of her beautiful short outfit.

"I'm sorry to intrude," V'tar said, "But I'm on search from White River Weyr, and I would like to see if you three would enjoy standing on our sands."

They stood, stunned, until he spoke again.

"It's an unusual clutch, we don't really know how many eggs there are, but that's kind of normal, queens -- no matter what their color -- seem to always keep a few secrets."

They still stood, eyes all agape. The dark skinned girl caught her breath first.

"I'm Beena," she announced, "and this is my sister Misota," she presented the pale skinned girl and V'tar doubted her word, "and this is Robbyntym."

At the mention of the young lad's name, the search rider caught short. He furrowed his brows and felt his blue Morineth speak.

We have to search him. He's destined for this clutch.

Oh he is, is he? Queried the confused rider. But he smiled and took Beena's hand, escorting her to the drinks table. "I'm sure that Morineth will like the scent of you. You're quite entrancing, my dear. What is that you are wearing?"

Beena looked at him and then laughed, "eau d' goat, I think..."

***

Later in the evening, the blue dragon stood in front of the Hold's courtyard and was presented with the number of young people that V'tar had looked over. The trio of odd folk were the ones which Morineth had sniffed out, and he reiterated that Robbyntym for some reason HAD to be there. Just had to. Or else.

"So you three, will you be ready by dawn? We'll be going to White River Weyr. I can come for you later, but..."

"We'll be ready," said Misota.

"I'm already ready," replied Robbyn, with a broad grin, and the waggle of his eyebrows indicated that he MEANT to go get impressed wearing nothing but a bow tie.

Beena's Impression | Misota's Impression | Robbyn's Impression