A Freckled Goldrider

Writers: Rochelle
Date Posted: 1st March 2009

Characters: Ariau
Description: Ariau stresses about her freckles.
Location: River Bluff Weyr
Date: month 13, day 29 of Turn 4

Ariau stared gloomily at the mirror across from her. Freckles. A hundred, million freckles. If only they were specks of dirt she could just scrub off! But no amount of makeup would ever be able to hide her spots, even if she knew someone with enough to do more than a little rouge or maybe something to darken her lashes.

The rest of her was fine. Her hair, always an adventure in itself to tame when there was any humidity -and when was River Bluff _not_ humid?- had taken nearly two candlemarks before it had stayed with reasonable grace pinned to her head, and the resulting style, while nice and going reasonably well with her outfit, was hardly elaborate enough to counter the dozens of freckles across her forehead.

It had been an uncomfortable realization when she'd discovered that as a goldrider she was expected to wear something new for Turn's End festivities. She'd initially intended on wearing one of her carefully treasured gowns that she'd brought with her from the north, but her protests had been overridden and she'd been forcibly dragged to the weyr's tailors.

She did like the dress though. In the end she'd arranged for a simple but flattering gown in a muted blue tastefully decorated along the neckline with embroidery detailing firelizards in flight. She'd been careful to ensure that the gown didn't show much cleavage, although most of the weyr probably knew by now that she had nearly nothing on top, instead showed off the beautiful necklace her grandmother had gotten her at at Telgar to it's best advantage.

But it wasn't designed to hide or flatter the bane of her existence. There didn't seem to be any way to escape the multitude of dark brown spots dotting her skin, and the numbers had only gotten worse since she'd moved to River Bluff. Humidity and sunlight seemed to make the annoying things _breed_.

Without the freckles, she might have had a chance. She might have been able to look a little more like the elegant lady she was supposed to be for Turn's End, the charming young goldrider gliding through the evening like a dream. Ariau didn't have any illusions that she actually would be able to, but she might have had a chance of at least giving the impression.

She could handle the hidework, the drills, the responsibilities and frustrations and even the loneliness that being a goldrider brought. She was doing okay there. But so much of a goldrider's duties outside of hidework was to be ornamental, to continue the dream of every little girl and inspire every romance writer with her beauty and confidence and command, and that was where Ariau felt herself scrambling.

After all, who ever heard of a weyrwoman with _freckles_? And not just a light dusting either, but a full body covering of thick paint splatter?

For that matter, most real weyrwomen at least had a bust. What little she'd possessed seemed to have vanished during weyrlinghood while tossing firestone sacks with the others to build up her arms.

She groaned. Why was she doing this? If it hadn't been made clear to her that she was expected to attend the festivities she'd be... well, she wasn't sure what she'd be doing. Probably taking Alabieth out flying somewhere, enjoying the first sunrise of the new turn the way she'd done with her grandmother on the road when she was little.

Actually... that sounded pretty good. And no one had told her exactly how long she had to be at the festivities... She could probably manage a few candlemarks, make sure she was seen and hide from the scathing remarks of any visiting holders who didn't know she was a goldrider about her appearance, and then escape to Fort or Dolphin Cove to see her family. She could even do both -they were all in different times anyway, and River Bluff was one of the ones farthest west too. She could even kidnap Jaurin from Keroon and watch a sunrise with her little brother.

She nodded to herself, seeing a relieved grin stretch across her face in the mirror as she thought about her new plan. She would be tired tomorrow, but it would be worth it to have something other than just dancing with riders trying to improve their standing with her for when Alabieth rose.

Besides, Turn's End was a time for family as well as celebration. Her family knew her as Ariau, not as a goldrider. And Ariau was allowed to have all the freckles she could stand without destroying any one's dream.

Last updated on the March 11th 2009

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A Freckled Goldrider