Title: Warmth
Fandom: Dragonriders of Pern
Rating: G
Length: 657 Words
Content notes: Fluff, Post-Dragonsinger, Pre-Dragondrums
Author notes: So much thanks to my beta, Voksen!
Summary: Menolly Jorneys to a special cot



Menolly finished brushing down her runner, grateful for the walls of the beastcot that kept out the chilling wind. Once done seeing to the comfort of the animal, she grabbed her pack and gitar case and braced herself for the dash across the compound.

When she was ready, she threw open the doors and ducked out into the biting wind and swirling snow. Quickly closing the heavy metal door, she stumbled across the quadrangle as quickly as she could, finally making it to the doors of the hold proper. As she scooted inside, trying not to let the snow and cold follow her in, she heard the cheerful chatter of the hold's residents.

A second later Maura was there, helping to wrangle the door's safety cross-brace into place. Menolly offered her a grateful smile, which the older woman returned. "Come on in, Harper!" she boomed. "Warm yerself by the fire while the girls finish with the meal!"

"Thank you!" Menolly made her way over to the hearth fire, where a nicely padded chair had been set off to the side. It was probably an old Auntie's chair, but Menolly hadn't seen anyone older than Maura in her first visit to the cothold. She slid down into the chair and loosened her overcoat. The damp jacket was discreetly removed by one of the younger girls and hung somewhere to dry.

Menolly held her hands out to the fire, appreciating the warmth that blazed through her fingers when she rubbed them together. Her nice hide-lined gloves had staved off any chance at frostbite, but she was still chilled to the bone.

As soon as her nose began to thaw a little, Menolly noticed the most wonderful aromas arising from the pots around her. Her last trip here had involved simple fare, but it had been well rendered, and she expected the same. Still, to a mouth left wanting, the smell was as intoxicating as the most elaborate Midwinter's feast at Fort Hold – and Menolly had now sampled enough of those to make the comparison true.

She rubbed her fingers together again, feeling each of her calluses and worn spots, and taking pride in the accomplishments that they implied. She was a Harper, through and through. She might have risen to Journeywoman status far sooner than some would have liked, but she had learned much over the last two years, and she had proven herself capable in all areas of her craft.

More than that, she had found several niches in the Harper Hall that she, uniquely, could fill. Remembering back to her first breathless week, her fear that she would never fit in might have seemed laughable now. But Menolly always tried not to take her place for granted.

Still, it was gratifying when the Harper discovered positions that she was the best candidate for. True, there were some places in the backwoods corners of Pern where she could not safely or effectively journey, but there were others better suited to broaden those places anyway.

And for places like this, where Maura had established a small cot right on the border of Benden, Keroon, and Bitra to take in young girls from the area who had, for one reason or another been unable to continue life in their home holds, she was in fact the best harper for the job. In fact, one of her assignments this time was to speak to a young Bitran girl who had been quite interested in the Harper Hall on her last visit. With any luck, Menolly could bring back another female apprentice for her Master.

"The soup's ready, Harper!" one of the girls called out, pulling Menolly from her thoughts. With one more brisk rub of her hands, Menolly left the Auntie's chair by the fire and took her place at the table. There, as in more and more places, she was greeted by nothing but warm smiles as she sat down.