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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction that combine worlds created by the original content owner with names, places, characters, events, and incidents that are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, companies, events or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Dragonriders of Pern series was created by Ann McCaffrey in 1967 and spans 24+ books published by Ballantine Books, Atheneum Books, Bantam Books, and Del Rey Books.  Any recognizable content in this story is from Ann McCaffrey, Todd McCaffrey, Gigi McCaffrey or their representatives or inheritors.  <br> Original content provided by author of this FanFiction story without monetary compensation. <br>

The Rider's Pride - 11. Chapter 11

“Wake up, green rider.” The familiar male voice whispered into his ear, and J’shon’s eyes opened with surprise. He jerked upright in bed and turned to stare at the rider’s chest he had been using as a pillow. D’kov was a handsome man, he’d always thought, and the tight, firm belly and hairy chest only confirmed that. Old habits tried to get him to ignore the thoughts of another man as attractive, but as surely as Liliath’s flight had shattered his disgust at the act of mating with another man, he was now convinced he’d shattered something else.

“Take a deep breath, J’shon.” S’flin’s voice startled him again and he whipped his head around to see the other green rider standing there with a smile and a bottle of wine in his hand. “I’ve got food for all three of us in the outer room and this fine bottle of Benden to celebrate.”

“What?” J’shon squeaked, shocked by the green rider’s blithe attitude. Did he not see D’kov, nude in J’shon’s bed and how could he have missed the mating flight where Aliarth flew Liliath? Greens were not like golds who had to be taken out of the Weyr whenever another queen rose to mate for fear of the two queens trying to kill each other. No, greens were not jealous like that, but…but…

Tabath shares my ledge with Aliarth and me. Liliath said softly into his mind. There was a hint of reproach in her voice. She complimented me on a fine flight.

“She did, did she?” J’shon muttered aloud and was taken aback by the way S’flin started chuckling.

“J’shon, come, let’s eat.” D’kov said in a soft voice behind him. “You haven’t eaten well in the last two days and must be hungry.”

“I am.” J’shon admitted with a sigh as his stomach rumbled.

“I’ll go pour the wine while you two get dressed.” S’flin said cheerfully as he left the room. J’shon wanted to look at D’kov’s body, but he didn’t dare out of fear for S’flin’s reaction, and guilt at his own. He had to admit he’d been pleased that D’kov had been his first. He’d known the dragon rider longest of all, and actually felt comfortable around him before the flight earlier today––

“Don’t work yourself up, lad.” D’kov said as he pulled a tunic on over his head. The man was a rock of confidence and support, calming J’shon down considerably. He even put his arm around J’shon’s shoulders once the younger rider was dressed, as D;kov guided him to the outer room of the Weyr where S’flin had set a table for three. Looking out of the weyr’s opening, he saw it was long past dark, and he could just make out the shadows of three dragons leaning on each other out on the ledge.

“Let’s all sit and eat.” S’flin said and despite this internal edginess, J’shon realized he was ravenous. There was little talk until they were all done with their food, and J’shon sipped the delicate white wine, which was so much better than that Tillek from last night. D’kov sat between the two green riders, and as dinner finished, J’shon realized he was feeling very nervous again.

“J’shon, do you remember nothing of our talk last night?” S’flin asked as they sipped their wine over dessert.

“I do.” J’shon said with a blush.

“Then you know I’m not going to be jealous or angry at you.” S’flin’s voice was firm.

“S’flin asked me this morning if Aliarth and I would be interested in chasing you and Liliath.” D’kov said and J’shon choked on the wine as he stared in amazement first at D’kov and then at S’flin.

“D’kov caught me the first time Tabath rose.” S’flin said with a fond smile and reached out to put his hand over the blue riders. “He knew just what to do and made sure it was the most wonderful experience. Some green riders bleed after their first time, or are sore for days, but D’kov, he knows just what to do so there are no real negative side-effects.”

“I can tell.” J’shon said and then immediately blushed. There was a little soreness there, more like stiffness, but no real pain and certainly no blood.

“I couldn’t think of any in the weyr who would be better for you after our talk last night.” S’flin said. “Aliarth first flew Tabath seven turns ago, but I’ve only been weyrmates with D’kov for a few turns.”

“Who flew Tabath when…” J’shon started to ask but stopped and blushed. “Forgive me, that was a rude question.”

“But understandable given the circumstances.” S’flin said with a smile. “That first time, I wasn’t ready to even think of settling down. Several browns and blues flew Tabath after that first time. Some were good, others weren’t quite as good, though none were quite as good as D’kov.”

“Thanks.” D’kov said with a sickly-sweet smile.

“You’re welcome.” S’flin responded before continuing. “I even tripped a bronze rider into my bed when his dragon wanted to fly Tabath. That was after he’d failed to catch Zoeth who was a junior queen at the time. Tabath flew the next day, but I made it clear I wouldn’t accept a substitute. If the dragon wants to fly Tabath, the rider better fly me.”

“I remember Br’Mar all but ran from your weyr when we woke the next day.” D’kov laughed at the memory. “That was when Aliarth said it was a shame you spent so much time alone in your weyr and how Tabath was a nice dragon to cuddle up to at night. We decided your next flight we’d catch you and trick you into staying with us.”

“It worked too.” S’flin said happily.

“But…are you…what does this mean?” J’shon asked with confusion and he gestured a circle that included all three of them.

“It means, you wonderful green rider, that S’flin and I consider you to be a good friend.” D’kov said. “He and I are weyrmates, yes, but you needed someone to make your first time a positive experience. S’flin and I are secure enough in our relationship that Aliarth flying Liliath would be okay, and our dragons agreed.”

I like Liliath, and she needed this as much as you did. An unfamiliar female voice said in J’shon’s head and he looked with wide eyes at Tabath, whose neck was craned back to look in the weyr. Her eyes glowed a pleasant blue/green and were barely whirling at all.

“Thank you, all of you.” J’shon said with a heavy sigh, but jerked up straight as another part of the flight came back into his memory. “Sharth!”

“Dragon and rider are fine.” S’flin assured him. “I spoke with H’mal yesterday, and we knew a large circle of riders around you would scare you, so it was decided that only Aliarth would fly when Liliath rose. Your brother and his dragon were as insulted as Liliath when no one else rose, and Sharth decided he would at least try to catch her.”

“Didn’t you say that could be dangerous?” J’shon said in an upset tone. His foolish brother! Always trying to protect him and risking his own dragon!

“Dragons all mature at their own pace.” D’kov said with a shrug.

“Sharth’s been showing interest every time a green’s risen in the last two sevendays.” S’flin said with a shrug. “He was most likely ready.”

“But K’mer’s my brother!” Now that thought did horrify J’shon. Incest was frowned on even by the Weyrs!

“It’s not often that two brothers have dragons that can mate.” D’kov said with a shrug of his shoulders. “If it happened during a mating flight, well the Weyr would understand.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about your brother.” S’flin said with a smile. “He sought the company of Amosa, one of the kitchen drudges. Pretty girl that one. More than likely he’s one of those brown riders who won’t mind sleeping with a guy during a mating flight, but prefer a woman to keep his bedding warm at night.”

“Oh.” J’shon said softly. Liliath, how are you feeling?

I am getting hungry. She replied. Can we hunt tomorrow? I would really like to hunt. Maybe those herdbeasts we saw near Whitestone?

“I’ll ask if we can go.” J’shon said softly.

“Hunting?” D’kov asked.

“Yes.” J’shon acknowledged.

“We’re supposed to take you on a sweep tomorrow.” S’flin told him with a smile and a nod. “H’mal wants us to visit several minor holds in Keroon. Tabath says there are some wild herdbeasts near Whitestone that would be a good meal.”

“Aliarth agrees.” D’kov added. He looked blank for a moment, obviously talking with Aliarth. “Well, J’shon, if you’ll excuse us, B’rrel would like to be able to return to his own weyr for the night. We should return to ours now.”

“Thank you, for everything.” J’shon said softly as the two riders rose along with him. “No, S’flin, leave the stuff. I’ll pick it up later. You two have done more than enough for me.”

“We care for you, friend.” D’kov said softly, cupping J’shon’s jaw in one hand before leaning forward to kiss him on the forehead. J’shon felt like crying as S’flin moved in to hug him and also give him a kiss, on the cheek this time.

“Don’t be a stranger.” S’flin said softly before the two older riders moved off, arms around each other as they walked towards their dragons. Liliath moved inside after the two dragons had left, and sat down heavily on her couch. J’shon moved to her side, and rubbed her headridges with affection. The sounds of wing beats outside announced Ojeth’s arrival, and B’rrel dismounted before entering the weyr cautiously.

“Sorry you had to leave.” J’shon said with a small smile as the rider entered into the glow-lit area and looked at him carefully.

“You’re alright?” B’rrel asked softly with a look of real concern. “You’re not… upset or anything?”

“No, I think I’m finally okay with everything about being a green rider.” J’shon answered honestly.

“Good.” B’rrel said with a smile. “I knew you were taking it badly so I made sure to speak to S’flin. He’s probably the most caring green rider I know except for you. From what N’sor says old T’kor’s lecture was downright boring and I knew you needed more than that.”

“Thank you!” J’shon said, and in a rush of emotions he rushed over and hugged the brown rider to him tightly. He was surprised with how fiercely B’rrel returned the hug and buried his face in J’shon’s shoulder. With a start, J’shon realized he’d grown slightly taller than the brown rider. B’rrel’s pale red hair was cropped close enough that the short bristly hair on the side of his head actually tickled J’shon’s cheek as the brown rider made a noise that was half-sob, half-laugh.

“I’d do anything for you.” B’rrel said softly. “I was even going to try and get Ojeth to fly, but Zoeth forbad him from even trying. That was when I went to S’flin, but he was already making plans.”

“He is a devious man.” J’shon said softly, realizing B’rrel was holding tight to him still and showing no signs of letting go. “What’s the matter?”

“You don’t even realize it do you?” B’rrel said softly.

“What?” J’shon asked.

“I’ve never had a friend like you.” B’rrel said softly. “I’ve got brothers, I’ve got sisters, I’ve got foster brothers and foster sisters and foster parents and all that, but I’ve never been as close to any of them as I am to you. Please, don’t ever shut me out like that again.”

“I won’t.” J’shon promised, embarrassed at how accurate B’rrel was. He had been shutting B’rrel out, and A’toly, and K’mer, and every other rider of a male dragon he’d known. It had started shortly after he saw that N’sor’s Sortath would rise soon, and he’d started thinking about how Liliath’s time would not be far behind. Now, with the experience behind him, he wanted to laugh at how foolish he’d been.

“Was it good?” B’rrel asked softly, and J’shon wiggled out of the embrace before responding, because the question had caused a reaction at the memory of what had happened earlier that evening.

“Yeah, it was good.” J’shon said with a blush. “I’ll clean up the table.”

“Any of that wine left?” B’rrel asked. “I heard H’mal gave S’flin a bottle of real Benden.”

“There’s enough for the two of us.” J’shon said, moving to the table and pouring a goblet for both of them.

“To friendship!” B’rrel toasted as they drank the last of a very good bottle of Benden wine.

Friendship is good. Liliath agreed as the two riders toasted.

They stayed up late that night, talking in a way they hadn’t for at least a sevenday or two. B’rrel shared several stories of humorous events in the Weyrling Wing, most of them involving Melodeth and an increasingly frustrated C’lier. They went to their beds in the early hours of the morning, and while J’shon woke slightly tired, he was also more relaxed than he ever remembered being before.

When he entered the Lower Caverns for the morning meal, he stiffened at the sight of K’mer who was pacing near the table shared by H’mal’s wing. When K’mer saw his brother, he looked down at first and shuffled his feet. With a look of determination on his face, J’shon crossed the distance between them and hugged his younger brother tightly.

“Thank you.” J’shon whispered to K’mer, who relaxed and returned the hug.

“Ojeth was so upset that Liliath wasn’t happy at just one dragon following her.” K’mer said softly. “I love you, brother.”

“I love you too.” J’shon said. “Is Ojeth alright?”

“He’s fine.” K’mer said with a smile. “I think he’s ready to try again the next time a green rises.”

“It’s probably Melodeth.” J’shon said with a smile. He’d seen the green on the way down.

“Oh great.” K’mer said with a laugh. “At least C’lier’s easy on the eyes.”

“No substitute?” J’shon asked as they sat at the table and poured some porridge from the pot resting there. Part of him was amazed at how easily he asked that question.

“I’ve heard it’s better when both riders’ dragons are involved.” K’mer said with a shrug. He looked embarrassed for a moment though. “Besides, I’m no stuffy bronze rider. Um, just don’t mention that to father or––”

“Weyr business is Weyr business.” J’shon broke in with confidence and his brother blushed slightly. It was hard to remember at times that his brother was about the same age J’shon was when they’d first come to the Weyr.

D’kov and S’flin entered a little later, both smiling at each other as if they’d had a very good night. After the two had finished their meals, they went over Liliath carefully, including all her equipment, before they agreed that she and J’shon were ready to fly a sweep. With the sun above the Weyr’s rim, they went between to the starting point of their sweep, deep in the mountains to the north of Whitestone.

Like the day before, the skies were clear of clouds, although there were stiff winds in the lower altitudes near the mountains. D’kov insisted it was good training for both greens to fight against the wind. The smaller dragons were more easily tossed about by the winds, and high winds during Threadfall were said to be the most dangerous Falls. By the end of their ride, Liliath’s color was off and she was exhausted, as was Tabath. Aliarth was even showing a bit of dullness to his color as they went between to Whitestone. After dropping their riders off, the three dragons took off to hunt down some food.

“J’shon!” Bevan called out as he came out of the hold entrance, followed by a four or five others. J’shon was again surprised as his oldest brother wrapped him in a hug by way of greeting. “How is my little brother doing? Where did your dragon go?”

“I’m doing fine, Bevan.” J’shon said with a grin as they broke the hug. “We’ve been flying sweeps and our dragons are now hunting down some of the wild herdbeasts back in those hills.”

“Good, we could do with thinning them out.” Bevan said heartily. He closely resembled their father, except the wide grin on his face. “They forage too much nearby and we’ll have a harder time pasturing our own beasts.”

“You seem to be in a good mood.” J’shon said with a tilt of his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy before.”

“Father’s established me as his agent here until he moves everything over from the old hold.” Bevan said proudly, squaring his shoulders. “There’s a lot to do, but with forty drudges here, I spend most of my time supervising instead of hoeing stupid fields.”

“Ah, so that’s it.” J’shon said with a smile. “How are things progressing?”

“Come and see.” Bevan said with a smile and he led the three riders inside. A female drudge had several mugs of hot klah waiting for them, and Bevan took them on an immediate tour. With all the shutters open, the hold was not nearly as dark as he remembered. Several of the windows had broken glass in them, but a stack of newly delivered glass windows in the entryway showed they would soon be replaced. “We’ve got four journeymen here who are directly supervising the work in their individual areas, but so far about half the broken windows have been replaced. The entire ground floor has been scrubbed clean. Rubbish was cleared from all the other floors. A furniture maker is repairing what can be salvaged, and we’re ordering wood for him to make replacements. With the money from Lord Bisal, father’s directed that we make the full hold habitable, not just what we need for right now. Father’ll make the drums for the drum heights on the roof next sevenday, and the Runners are already setting up their relay station. They’ll be using it full time starting in two sevendays.”

“This is downright amazing.” D’kov said.

“We’ve had assistance from almost every Weyr in getting stuff we need here.” Bevan admitted. “Every time I try to pay the riders, they refuse. Several of them have brought some minor holders who wanted to see if father really plans on living here.”

“That’s why they won’t let you pay them.” J’shon said. “When you convince those minor holders that father really is moving here, you’ve already paid them by giving them a service.”

“Ah, if people see that father admits he may not have been right, they’re more likely to do their duties at their own hold.” Bevan said.

“I see Kapian hasn’t raised any stupid children.” S’flin laughed.

“J’shon here was always the smartest of us.” Bevan said with a laugh.

I’ve got two! Liliath said proudly, and J’shon closed his eyes for a moment to see the view from her eyes. She had two good-sized herdbeasts on the ground in front of her and was crunching away on the first one, tearing it to pieces. I even chew!

“That’s a good girl.” J’shon said aloud and got a blank look from his brother.

“Liliath is telling him she got two of the wild herdbeast.” D’kov said with a smile. “My Aliarth wonders if she will eat both.”

“She won’t.” J’shon said confidently. He knew how much his dragon ate, and she’d felled two herdbeast just because she could.

They stayed for two hours, letting their dragons eat and then digest their food a bit before traveling between back to the Weyr. J’shon was tired, but he cleaned Liliath in the lake before taking her back to their weyr and oiling her skin. B’rrel joined them at the lake, as exhausted from the exercises of the Weyrling Wing as J’shon was from sweepriding.

Melodeth rose in the late morning of the next day, and J’shon was surprised when Sharth caught her. Four dragons had chased after the flighty little green, but Sharth managed to surprise her from above as she tried a trick similar to the one that Liliath had used the day before. To the surprise of everyone, Melodeth seemed much calmer after that, and not nearly as jumpy.

K’mer took some teasing about going after someone in the Weyrling Wing, even though they were from the same clutch. It didn’t last though. As the days passed, J’shon noticed that while his brother remained friendly with C’lier, and had obviously enjoyed their encounter, K’mer spent more time chasing after the pretty Amosa from the kitchens.

While everyone waited with baited breath for the Red Star to finish its journey towards the bracket of the Dragon’s Eye, J’shon settled into the routine of being a Wing Rider in a very active Weyr. Nearly every other day, he would travel with some more experienced rider to one or more minor holds. Most of the time it was to holds that answered to Igen Weyr, but several times the leaders of the other Weyrs had asked for ‘one of Kapian’s sons’ to visit a recalcitrant holder in their territories.

Twice a holder had called him a liar for claiming to be Kapian’s son, or claiming that Kapian was moving into a proper hold. Both times, J’shon had stormed off and gone between to bring his father to the indignant holder. On both occasions, Kapian had nearly called challenge on the holder for the insult. After two sevendays had passed, the number of holders receiving a visit from J’shon or K’mer reduced dramatically, and the two indignant holders had sent gifts to Igen Weyr as apology for the insult.

When he wasn’t visiting a holder, J’shon was riding proper sweeps with more experienced riders. Towards the end of the second day, H’mal assigned him a proper sweep on his own, without a more experienced rider along. Raiders continued to bother holds in Keroon, and they had standing orders to immediately report any people moving along unusual tracks to Lord Bisal in Keroon. Dragonriders would spot raiders, and if an attack was in progress they might intervene, but otherwise they left hold business to holders.

That was one of the founding principles of Pern, that men were mostly free to lead their own lives so long as they didn’t endanger others. Weyrs stuck to weyr business, and each Weyr was autonomous of the others. When necessary, they worked with each other, but largely stayed out of the internal business of other Weyrs. Holders and Crafthalls were the same. Some issues required a Hall to work with a Hold, or a Hold with a Weyr, but when it came to how each operated, they controlled their own destinies.

Besides sweepriding, being in a fighting wing also meant preparing to fight the coming scourge of Thread. One piece of Thread, a few inches wide and up to ninety feet long could destroy an entire grove of trees, or a field. A man caught by thread would leave no trace except for the metal he carried with him. A dragon left none at all, usually going between and never returning if the injury was too bad. H’mal drilled his wing mercilessly, preparing them just about every type of Threadfall that was possible. Sometimes Thread fell in long, even streams like rain. Other times, it would fall in tangles and bunches that could be very deadly to dragons who did not flame all of it properly.

Mostly, the records claimed, Thread fell in daytime. On occasion, the leading edge of a Fall would start late in the day, and continue on its path east to west into the night time. Even in darkness, dragons could see Thread well enough to flame it from the sky, but they risked accidental collisions with other dragons, and accidental flaming of each other.

Rain or snow were blessed events for dragonriders. Yes, riders would get soaked and chilled to the bone flying six hours of Fall during rain or snow, but water killed Thread as well as flame did and so such Falls were less dangerous. Most dangerous were windy days, where wind would blow the Thread around erratically, dragon flame would disperse too soon or blow back against rider and dragon, and the winds would push dragons off course. Records of past Passes showed that windy days were the days a Weyr could expect the most casualties.

All their drills included flying in formation, a full dragonspan distance between each of them, and all sorts of different methods of flying against Thread. More drills involved assisting wounded dragons, something greens were ill-suited for, protective maneuvers, something greens did well, and other drills included the practice of going between with no preparation. A dragon or rider had one chance when hit by Thread, and that was going between immediately, before Thread had a chance to burrow deeper than skin level. The cold of between killed Thread quickly. If the dragon and rider didn’t keep an emergency destination in mind, though, they’d go between and never return.

J’shon found he and Liliath were excellent flyers in the formation maneuvers. The more agile greens and blues would often ‘split-off’ from the main formation to handle outlying Thread and then form back up. Liliath’s speed helped them do that, and to learn how to cover the bigger, less maneuverable browns and bronzes. This was all practice though, and as the Red Star finally began to dip towards the Dragon’s Eye, J’shon wondered how their practice would handle the real thing.

Zoeth, Igen’s senior queen, was with clutch again, and ready to lay her eggs. A little more than two sevendays after Liliath’s first mating flight, she woke early in her Weyr, and felt the tightness in her belly that said the eggs were ready to be hardened on the sands of her Hatching Ground. It was almost dawn when she stuck her head out of her weyr, trying to decide if she should wake her rider now, or if she could wait a little longer. She was hungry too, and knew the sooner she lay her eggs, the sooner she could eat. Sometimes with a big clutch it took her two days to lay all the eggs. With a doleful stare she noticed the brown dragon on watch duty was asleep again, as was his rider. She prepared to wake them up mentally, but her eyes caught the stone her rider called Dragon’s Eye, and she felt the rush of excitement fill her. Her eyes began to whirl an angry red at the long-awaited sign, and she lifted her head and long neck to let loose with a rousing bugle of alarm that nearly shook the rim of Igen Weyr.

“What is it?” J’shon cried out as the great golden queen bugled the alarm. Liliath had joined her queen, as had Ojeth, making the walls of their weyr shake and dust filter down from above. J’shon pushed out of his bed, wearing nothing but a loin cloth and padded out to the ledge, bumping shoulders with B’rrel who was doing the same as he. Their dragons were side by side on the ledge, wings extended, necks rigid and their heads pointing skyward while they added their bugles of alarm to those of the rest of the Weyr.

Thread is coming! Thread is coming! Liliath’s voice was one of those shouting to the minds of their riders, but J’shon and nearly every other rider heard commingled dragon voices in their heads as the dragons reared in expectation of their enemy. Legend said dragons had been made by man, based on little fire-lizards that no one had seen for centuries, in order to save man from Thread.

“Where?” B’rrel shouted while J’shon realized he was rooted to the spot with fear that Thread was here. What was wrong with the Dragon’s Eye? Why hadn’t it warned them? “Where does Thread fall, Ojeth?”

It does not fall yet. Ojeth replied and J’shon heard him this time. Every now and again, he would hear Ojeth speak to him, or B’rrel would hear Liliath. J’shon had worried about it at first, since he new that close weyrmates, whose dragons flew each other all the time, would often hear the dragon of their weyrmate. B’rrel was a good friend, but he wasn’t ready for that kind of intimacy yet. J’shon was fine with his bed being empty for now, although he no longer was disgusted by the physical act of lovemaking. He just knew he was too young yet, mentally, for such a lasting commitment.

It is in the Dragon’s Eye! That was Liliath speaking to both of them from the sigh of relief that B’rrel made. No, B’rrel had explained that dragons whose riders are close friends, like they were, would often speak to each other. In their case, it was probably because they shared a weyr, although they were most definitely not weyrmates.

“It’s cold this morning.” B’rrel murmured as they both shivered in the cold morning air. There was room on the ledge, and they had an almost perfect view of the Dragon’s Eye with the Red Star perfectly bracketed in the middle. Like them, most of the Weyr’s riders stood on their own ledges, wearing little to nothing as they stared at the long-awaited sight.

Goreth’s rider says we are to collect our assigned holders and bring them to the Weyr! Liliath announced in his mind as she stopped bugling. All around the Weyr, dragons and riders scrambled inside and began to prepare for the day’s tasks. Plans had long since been made, and on empty stomachs, riders took off into the early morning sky. Before the sun peeked over the far horizon, two hundred dragons had taken off to collect as many holders and craftsmen of the territory that looked to Igen for protection. All over Pern, each and every Weyr dispatched their riders to their own territories. The Weyrleaders of all the Weyrs had decided together that every man and woman who could be reached would be brought to the Weyr so they could see the final, incontrovertible proof that said Thread was coming.

Once before there had been a Long Interval. It was that Interval that had sparked Kapian to believe Thread would not fall this Pass. In that Interval, the Red Star had not been bracketed by the Dragon’s Eyes of Pern’s Weyrs. The sight that greeted the Weyrs on this morning told them that Thread was indeed coming, and that once more they would defend all the people of Pern from its scourge.

“Are they ready?” J’shon asked after he’d finished putting the riding straps on Liliath. He included all of his extra safety harnesses in preparing for taking two passengers, the most that he would safely load on Liliath. When she finished growing, he’d fit one or two more, but not yet.

All three report they are ready. Liliath said with a smug tone. She had a right to be smug as they moved out on the ledge and he climbed up onto his spot as her rider. Ojeth had already left to join a senior brown and bronze rider in their flight to High Rock Hold. J’shon and Liliath had been assigned to lead a wing of three weyrlings from their clutch today. All of the dragons may have hatched on the same day, and two of them were blues, by J’shon was the one with the knots of a Wing Rider on his shoulder.

“Tell them to meet us over the south rim.” J’shon told her as they took off.

They will. She assured him as she leaped into the air, snapping his head back with the force of her takeoff and rapid ascent. He recognized the two blues and green Melodeth as they formed up with him and he gave the hand signal for preparing to go between. They would take their image from him, and when they signaled their readiness, he returned the signal for going between just as the sun was climbing over the eastern horizon.

Liliath gave a battle cry as they appeared over the flat plains. Kapian Hold was below them, and Liliath led them in a spiraling descent to land in front of the wooden hold’s main entrance. The last of the crops had been taken in, and what was left had been piled in barrels and bundles under several sheds. Most of the herds were still here, but already the hold had the atmosphere of a place nearly deserted. By the time they landed, Kapian was standing in the entrance with Serece and most of the family still here, as well as the supporting holders and Master Beastcrafter Rinald. Master Harper Crivan, J’shon’s grandfather, pushed his way to the front and stood beside his son while J’shon and his riders dismounted. The three riders formed up behind J’shon, as was proper and the young green rider approached his father while a surge of emotions filled him.

He was excited, and yet at the same time he was sad. J’shon was a dragonrider now, and the anticipation of facing Thread, the reason dragons existed, excited him. Still, he was his father’s son and knew how much this would hurt his father who had claimed for turns that Thread would not fall this Pass.

“Holder Kapian, you are summoned to Igen Weyr to bear witness…” J’shon said in a thick voice that welled shut as the import of his words reached his own mind. He swallowed though, and looked into his father’s face that had paled at the formal words coming from his son. There was no recrimination there, only a quiet pride in the young dragonrider before him. “You are summoned to Igen Weyr to bear witness to the Red Star being bracketed by the Dragon’s Eye, to bear witness that Thread returns to Pern once again, and to see the strength of the Weyr which pledges to keep you and all of Pern safe, through fire, fog, or Fall.”

Behind him Liliath let loose with a roar that was joined by the other three dragons, a battle challenge to the mindless scourge that was even now preparing to descend on the lush, green world of Pern.

©1967-2022 Ann McCaffrey, Todd McCaffrey, Gigi McCaffrey; All Rights Reserved; Dragonriders of Pern is Copyrighted by Ann McCaffrey and her fine folks. This story belongs to dkstories.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction that combine worlds created by the original content owner with names, places, characters, events, and incidents that are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, companies, events or locales are entirely coincidental.
Authors are responsible for properly crediting Original Content creator for their creative works.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Dragonriders of Pern series was created by Ann McCaffrey in 1967 and spans 24+ books published by Ballantine Books, Atheneum Books, Bantam Books, and Del Rey Books.  Any recognizable content in this story is from Ann McCaffrey, Todd McCaffrey, Gigi McCaffrey or their representatives or inheritors.  <br> Original content provided by author of this FanFiction story without monetary compensation. <br>
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