"I don't approve of that boy, Sol," Olavve told her daughter sternly. "He's nothing but trouble. One day you are going to end up pregnant and single because of him."

Sol gave an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes. "Mother, Mathani is not going to get me pregnant! I don't see why you hate him so much! You weren't so mean to that Laton boy you tried to set me up with."

"That is because Laton is the son of two respectable holders, not the accident that happened between two irresponsible dragonriders," Olavve reminded her. "I have nothing against dragonriders themselves, but I find their values disgusting and I won't have you hanging around with their son. It's asking for trouble."

"Mathani never even knew his parents!" Sol protested. "How could they have given him any of their 'disgusting' values?"

"Sol, don't argue with me!" Olavve snapped. "You may not see Mathani any longer, whatever values he has. No daughter of mine will be pregnant before she is married."

Olavve stormed from the room, yelling for Sol's father. Sol let the dish she had been washing slip into the wash water and dissapear. "Uptight wher," she muttered under her breath. "It's a wonder I was even born."

"Sol really, you should just give up on Mathani already, mother hates him and father's halfway there," Sol looked up to see her older sister walking in. Lavaen brushed past her and went to the sink. "It won't help to try and drown the dishes, however."

"Why does mother like whoever you bring home but hate whoever I do?" Sol complained as she fished out the "drowning" dish. "She didn't even give Mathani a chance."

"I've never tried to bring home a dragonrider's son," Lavaen replied. "You know how she feels about dragonriders and their values. I think it's wherry-dung, but mother's the one who matters.

"Well I don't care what she thinks, Mathani and I are really in love!" Sol complained. "Why is it that the guy I really, really like she has to really, really hate?"

Lavaen chuckled softly. "Everything seems like love at sixteen, Sol," she said with an air of experience that made Sol want to slap her.

"Oh what would you know? You're only two and a half turns older than me!" Sol scoffed.

"Three," Lavaen corrected her sister. "And I've learned a lot in those three turns. I remember being sixteen, everything did seem like love. Just forget Mathani, Sol. Other boys you like will come along and you won't need to fight mother to keep them."

"It doesn't just seem like love, it is love!" Sol insisted. "Being sixteen doesn't mean I don't know when I'm really in love!"

"Sure you are Sol, sure you are," Lavaen chuckled. "Just wait till the next handsome guy comes strutting along, you'll forget about Mathani so fast you won't believe you ever knew him. Have fun washing the dishes."

Lavaen left, leaving Sol wishing that she had something better than a plate to try to drown. Were they all just against her ever being happy? A knock on the kitchen window brought Sol out of her thoughts. She looked up and was both suprised and angry to see Mathani's handsome face grinning back at her. She wrenched the always broken window open and stuck her head out. "What are you doing here? My father will kill you if he sees you!"

Mathani leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips. "I'd like to see him try," he chuckled. "Are you busy or could you go missing for a couple of hours?"

"I've been mad at everyone all evening, so I could storm out for a walk without being missed," Sol replied with a mischevious grin. "Go wait for me wherever you were hiding before. I'll be right out."

"I'm going out for a walk!" Sol called out, quickly pulling on shoes and an over tunic before anyone could ask any questions. "Be back in an hour or so!"

Sol hurried out into the night, a few glows in her hand to light the way. "Mathani?" she called once the door was closed. "Mathani where in Faranth's name are you?"

As she stood there feeling like a dimglow, she felt strong arms encircle her waist and a head rest on her shoulder. "Three guesses," Mathani breathed into her ear.

Sol nearly screamed. "Mathani!" she scolded in the harshest whisper she could manage. "Don't do that!"

"But it's so much fun," Mathani complained. "Mmm, you smell good. What were you doing before I rescued you?"

"Washing dishes, actually," Sol replied with a shiver. "I'll tell my mother you think her dishwater smells good."

"Cold?" Mathani asked, noticing her shiver and tightening his hold on her waist.

"Not really," Sol lied but leaned into his warm body anway. "How do you keep so sharding warm, you lucky wher?"

"I am a lucky wher that way, huh?" Mathani admitted. "If you're really cold, I know an excellent way and place to warm up."

"Don't you try to prove my mother right that your dragonrider blood makes you immoral," Sol cautioned. "It won't help anything if I end up pregnant."

"I'd be the same way if I were a drudge," Mathani scoffed and stole a quick kiss. "Although I wouldn't have to be so careful if I'd been raised in the weyr."

"Maybe my mother is right about you, maybe I am asking for trouble," Sol mused, playing with the sleeve of Mathani's shirt absently. "I don't want to be pregnant at sixteen, Mathani."

"And I don't want to be a father at seventeen," Mathani agreed heartily. "But there are ways..."