So much work for one pair of Hands [Firah]

Sennia found it was easy to lose herself in tasks. Something as monotonous as scrubbing dishes required little by way of thought but it didn’t produce the idly and often depressing concerns that inactivity did. There was a calm in the repeated motions and concern over cleanliness. What’s more, the longer it took her to do this, the less time she’d have to spend by herself in the dark. With her own thoughts and conflicts.

Sennia had adjusted to weyr life as well as to be expected, she thought. Being taken from a farmer’s life and put into one that was drastically different. She didn’t rage against the expectations of her, like some did, but neither did she feel like she really belonged at the weyr either. She’d been taken from everything she’d known to – what? Do chores here? Care for dragonriders as opposed to her own family? It was a struggle to accept and make sense of it all. And to accept that the entire reason she had been brought here – impressing a gold – seemed rather unlikely. After 4 failed impressions going to women clearly better suited, Sennia had trouble doubting. More to the point, she didn’t feel like the possible position of weyrwoman suited her overly much.

It was quite a jolt to realize someone was trying to talk to her. The commotion of comings and goings didn’t register, it wasn’t until Firah was standing at the edge of the tub that she realized she wasn’t alone. Blushing faintly, her humming cut off by her return to reality, Sennia smiled her greeting. “Good evening, Firah. I… didn’t hear you.” She wiped her hands off on a towel and stretched. Her back had become sore from leaning over the dishes she was scrubbing.

The offer to help surprised her, not because Firah was particularly cruel, but because no one had been expected to help her. Or required. “It will still probably take some time for the pair of us,” she conceded. “And if you were out hunting,” a comment followed by her quick survey of him, “you probably want to go rest up.” While she was inclined to deny help on the grounds she wished to be able to do whatever was expected of her [ since impressing a dragon seemed out of it ] without help or fuss. But the gesture, one not usually extended her way, was touching and she was loath to deny company when that was just a suitable for chasing away the loneliness and doubt. “But I would enjoy the companionship, if you wished to stay.” Admitting as much made her embarrassed, turning her attention back to the dishes and beginning to wash. That way, should he wish to politely bow out, he’d not have to do so to her face.