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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>
Canon typical violence

Gone Away, Gone Ahead - 39. Visits

D'gar visits Fort Weyr, then meets S'fyn in the south.

D’gar decided to visit Fort the following day. He’d already checked to make sure there was no Threadfall forecast either there, or in Southern. It gave him most of the morning and early afternoon at Benden, due to the time difference. If he left Fort before lunch, a hop to Southern on the return journey would mean he arrived there during the hottest part of the day, when everyone rested and S’fyn could slip away.

‘Sure you don’t want me to come along?’ H’rek asked.

It was tempting, but too much of a risk to let anyone else to know about S’fyn. ‘No, best you stay here. Unless you want to visit your family in Southern Boll, then drop in with me to see Agarra.’

‘Think I’ll pass on that.’

‘You should do, you know. Your little sister would love to see Rioth again.’

‘I know. But it’s the rest of it I can’t deal with.’

There was no point trying to push him. D’gar gave thanks once again he didn’t have to worry about Holdbred attitudes.

‘Anyway, Bavi’s organised a picnic down by the lake later on. She’s trying to encourage those two lads T’rai rescued to get to know other weyrfolk. You know she’s got them working with her in the laundry now?’

‘I didn’t, no.’

‘I reckon she’ll end up fostering them, at least for a while, until they decide what they’re going to do.’

‘Well, she is quite a motherly sort.’ He fastened the strap around Herebeth’s chest. ‘Good for her.’

‘Be careful, anyway.’

D’gar knew H’rek wasn’t referring to his trip to Fort. ‘Of course. I know what I’m doing. And Herebeth will make sure I don’t get into any bother. I should be back by sunset.’

‘You can join us by the lake, if we’re still there. It’s looking as if the weather’s going to hold.’ He glanced up to the cloudless sky. ‘Might even be warm enough for a swim.’

‘Rather you than me. I’ve some bad memories of that lake.’

‘Then we’ll have to make some better ones.’ H’rek smiled. ‘See you later.’

It was still early morning at Fort when Herebeth emerged from between. Let Piroth know we would like to visit, he told his dragon.

I shall. Herebeth banked into a slow, steady descent. There was more cloud over this part of Pern, but the air was still warmer than at the more northerly Benden. The familiar shape of Tooth Crag rose up over the Weyr Bowl. Dragons were already up on the heights, catching the sun whenever the clouds allowed. The Weyr looked much as it always had done in the old days and D’gar had that familiar sense of coming home. How would it feel if - when - this was no longer his Weyr? Deep down, he knew that he was more likely to accept F’lar’s offer than not. It made sense, in the long term. He hoped R’feem would agree. Having the Wingleader’s approval mattered to him.

Piroth invites me to land on his ledge. Herebeth dropped him off at R’feem’s weyr, then flew up to the heights to join the others.

R’feem pulled back the curtain. ‘What brings you to Fort?’

‘Quick visit to mum and, well, I needed to talk to you about something, too.'

‘Oh, yes?’ R’feem offered him a seat and called for klah. His weyr was equipped with a service shaft similar to those at Benden.

‘How’s your wrist getting along?’ D’gar had noticed that R’feem wasn’t using the sling any more.

‘Hebiri says it’s healing nicely,’ he called from the back of the weyr. ‘It doesn’t really hurt any more. But I need to be careful about lifting any weight for a little while yet. No catching firestone sacks mid-air for a few more sevendays, they reckon.’ He came back with two steaming mugs. ‘So, what’s the problem?’

‘It’s not a problem, exactly.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I’ve had an offer. From Benden. F’lar would like me to transfer and take over as their Weyrlingmaster.’

R’feem raised his eyebrows slightly. ‘When did this happen?’

‘Just yesterday. I wanted to know what your thoughts were.’

‘They’re obviously impressed with all that training you’ve been doing,’ he said, after a pause.

D’gar shrugged. ‘Seems like it.’

R’feem poured two mugs of klah with a steady hand. ’You know that being Weyrlingmaster involves a lot more than just teaching them how to dodge Thread. You’d be responsible for a clutch from the moment they stumble off the Hatching Grounds until they join a Wing. It’s a full-time position.’

‘I know. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. F’lar said it wasn’t urgent right now, but that they’d like someone in place by the time Ramoth’s eggs hatch.’ He watched R’feem’s expression carefully as he spoke, but the Wingleader’s face remained impassive. ‘Obviously, I’m not going to go leaving you all in the lurch. I’ll carry on as Wingleader until you’re fit enough to take over again. I’ve already told them that.’

‘Sounds as if you’ve made your mind up already.’

‘Not exactly. I talked through it with H’rek yesterday and I wanted to do the same with you before I tell them one way or another. It’s a big step and I don’t want to take it lightly. I reckon I’ve thought of all the pitfalls, but you’ve a lot more experience and I value your advice…’

R’feem sipped his klah. ‘So you want to know if I think you could do the job?’

D’gar nodded. He trusted R’feem to tell him the truth.

‘You’re a bit young for it,’ he said slowly, pausing as he waited for D’gar to respond.

‘That’s the first thing I said when the Weyrleader asked me. But he pointed out I’ve more practical experience of Threadfighting than anyone at Benden, whatever their age.’

‘True enough.’ R’feem sipped his klah. ‘It’s not just down to experience, though. Youngsters find it easier to respect someone a good few Turns older than they are.’

‘I know. I told him that too.’

‘So, why do you think they want you specifically?’

‘They know me. They reckon I’d be good at it. They don’t have a lot of spare riders.’ He counted off the points on his fingers. ‘F’nor knows I’m weyrmates with H’rek and that I want to be able to stay with him. Transferring to Benden is the obvious way to make sure of that. Not that I’d take the job just for that reason,’ he added quickly.

R’feem considered for a while. ‘Think you’ll be able to cope with losing lads and dragons?’

‘That’s the one thing I’m not sure about.’ He knew that N’teren, the Weyrlingmaster at Fort had hidden a lot of emotion beneath that gruff exterior. You couldn’t do the job well if you didn’t care, but you had to be able to keep a distance too. ‘I’d like to think that I can but I guess I won’t know for certain until I’m doing it.’

‘We’ve both seen a lot of folk die over the Turns. I know how you were after S’brin went.’ He stared into the steam rising from his klah. ‘I wasn’t a lot better when I lost A’til.’

That had been his former weyrmate, D’gar knew. They’d been together a long time. It had happened while he was still a weyrling so he’d been unaware of how it had affected R’feem.

‘Leading the Wing kept me going. I knew everyone was relying on me, so I couldn’t let myself fall apart. Losing someone from the Wing isn’t quite as bad, but it’s still someone you’ve become close to. As you’d get close to the weyrlings you were in charge of.’

‘That’s why some Weyrlingmasters resign. I know.’ He sighed. ‘I’ve been thinking about all of that.’

‘Do you feel as if you could do the job?’ R’feem asked. ‘Do you think you’d take to it?’

That was the crunch, really. ‘I like having responsibility. That’s why I’ve enjoyed being Wingleader. I know I’m good at teaching folks. Yes, I reckon I could.’

‘I reckon you could, too,’ he said. ‘It’s a good opportunity. Mind you, I’d be sorry to lose you.’

That was another sticking point. R’feem had done so much for him over the Turns. ‘You’ve taught me so much. Helped me out. I feel like I owe it to you to be loyal, but…’

‘There’s always a but.’ He smiled wryly.

‘What happens when it’s time for us to come back?’ D’gar had thought about that quite a bit. ‘Will we stay together as a Wing, or get split up?’ That had been the most likely scenario before they’d been sent to fill in at Benden.

‘No-one knows.’ He sighed. ‘I’m sorry I can’t give you a definite answer to that. But there’s one more thing you should take into account before you make your decision. I didn’t realise myself until I came back, but weyrfolk here aren’t too fond of Benden at the moment.’

‘Really? Why?’

R’feem continued. ‘It’s complicated. Some of the riders think Benden’s partly to blame for the attitude of modern Holders and Crafters. Others have just begun to realise we’ve another fifty Turns of fighting Thread ahead of us. There’s a general feeling that modern folk aren’t as appreciative as they might be that we’re putting our lives on the line for them. Now, things might get better, as everyone adapts to this day and age…’

’Or it might not? Is that what you’re trying to say?’ Not everyone could, or wanted to change.

R’feem shrugged. ‘Who knows? But I’ve defended Benden’s way of doing things a couple of times and it’s not made me popular. The way things are at the moment, if you decide to transfer I don’t reckon T’ron would want you back, even if things didn’t work out.’

That would hit him hard. He had friends and family at Fort. ’I’d still be able to visit?’ he asked.

‘I don’t think they’d go so far as to stop you. But if you came here wearing Benden knots, you might not get the same sort of welcome you’re used to.’

R’feem’s words confirmed it would be even less likely that H’rek would be able to transfer from Benden to Fort. At least now, he knew where he stood. ‘Well, you’ve given me plenty to think about.’

‘Let me know when you make up your mind. I won’t say anything until then.’

‘Thanks.’ He finished his klah, then shook R’feem’s hand. ‘I appreciate this.’

‘I appreciate you asking me. And carry on the way you are with the Wing. I’ve been hearing nothing but good. Makes it easier on me, knowing there’s someone capable looking after the lads.’

He called Herebeth and dropped down to the Bowl, still mulling over what he’d learned. Nothing was ever easy, he reflected.

Agarra welcomed him with a hug, as always. He’d not been to see her since he was promoted and she called over several of her friends in the kitchen to show him off. ‘My son. Wingleader at just twenty-three Turns. Can’t do better than that.’ She sounded very proud.

D’gar smiled, but he couldn’t help but wonder if she’d be so happy knowing he was considering a transfer to Benden. ‘It’s only temporary,’ he said, several times. ‘Only until R’feem’s able to fly again.’

‘Doesn’t matter,’ she replied. ‘He wouldn’t have put you in charge if he didn’t trust you.’ He was forced to drink another mug of klah and to eat some of the cake she’d just made. She also wrapped up some treats for him. ‘It’ll be wonderful to have you back here for good,’ she said, waving him off and making him feel even more guilty.

Do we have to go right now? Even Herebeth seemed loath to leave.

Sorry, yes. Dragons could be terrible gossips and he didn’t want to let slip that he had somewhere else to visit before returning to Benden. It was only when they were high in the air that he gave Herebeth the co-ordinates Rioth had shared with them.

That is not Benden.

No, it’s Southern.

Why do we go there? Rioth is at Benden.

I need to see someone. No telling any of the other dragons, though.

It had been pleasantly warm over Fort, but when they emerged from between, the heat and humidity enveloped them like a blanket just out of the washing tub. D’gar kept as close an eye on his surroundings as if he was in the middle of Fall, checking for Thread. He didn’t want to be spotted by anyone other than S’fyn.

Tell Folath we are here.

I thought you did not want me to tell any other dragons. Herebeth’s mental tone sounded amused.

Don’t be difficult. You know what I mean.

They landed on a riverbank, next to a small stand of trees. It was a short while later that he spotted the glint of sun on a bronze hide as Folath descended to meet them. S’fyn jumped off as soon as he’d touched down and encouraged D’gar to follow him and his dragon under cover of the trees. ‘I’m pretty sure I got away without being seen but you can’t be too careful.’

‘So, what’s happened then? Your message didn’t give very much away.’

‘That was deliberate. I didn’t think T’shon would open it, but you just can’t tell.’ He grimaced. ‘I’m suspicious of everyone these days. Comes with the territory.’

D’gar appreciated how he felt. Not knowing who could be trusted was a difficult situation to be in. ’You don’t have to keep on doing this if you don’t want to.’

‘No, I can’t stop now. I’d rather know what’s going on than not. Once I tell you what’s been said, I think you’ll agree.’ He sank down next to his dragon. ‘You were so right about F’drun. He's definitely up to no good. Where do I even start?’

‘At the beginning? How did you get him to talk to you?’

‘Oh, that bit was easy. The day after we arrived he was showing off to some of the youngsters, so I just joined in. Laughing at his stupid jokes and pretending to be impressed. He asked what I thought of you so I said I thought you were just a jumped-up nobody who’d got where he was by luck rather than talent. Sorry.’

‘It’s fine. It’s what you needed to do.’

‘Anyway, F’drun invited us back to his wallow. There were just a couple of us. Two others from my clutch and another young rider who’s here recovering. Bit of a dimglow, I thought. That’s the type who seems to get sucked in by him. Most of the older riders don’t like him much, especially the ones from T’bor’s Wing.’

That was interesting. ’Is he still in with Kylara?’

S’fyn nodded. ‘Definitely. She flaunts it, especially when T’bor’s around. It’s all part of her game. F’drun’s flattered by the attention. He keeps telling us what an amazing woman she is.’

‘So, he’s smitten with her. That figures.’ From what he’d seen of Kylara’s behaviour, she and F’drun were well matched. He still didn’t get why T’bor was so enamoured of her, especially considering how she treated him. Or maybe that was what he enjoyed?

‘She’s always been the same,’ S’fyn said. ‘She’ll have a favourite for a while, then drop him. But I think there’s more going on with those two than just sex. They’re planning something together.’ He paused. ‘Some of the things he’s said…’

D’gar had suspected the same himself, when they were at Benden. ’Go on.’

‘That first time we talked, he gave us all a few cups of wine, then he started asking our opinions on various things. Like what we thought of the way Southern was being run, whether we reckoned T’bor was any good as Weyrleader. I mostly let the others talk and agreed when it seemed appropriate. That was about as far as it went, that time. I figure he was just finding out if we thought along the same lines as he did.’

D’gar nodded, encouraging him to continue.

‘We met a couple of times like that, just chatting. Plenty of alcohol involved, to loosen tongues. F’drun kept telling us how good he was at fighting Thread, how he’s got more experience than anyone else here. He said Kylara wants him to be made a Wingleader, but T’bor’s not keen. He reckons T’bor sees him as a threat.’

D’gar thought T’bor was unlikely to promote a man who was carrying on openly with his Weyrwoman. He’d want Wingleaders he knew were loyal to him and whom he could trust.

S’fyn continued. ’Anyway, he told us a story about this bronze rider at High Reaches who wanted to be Weyrleader, but his dragon wasn’t the fastest or strongest and he’d failed to catch the Senior Queen a few times. This rider, Os’tor, had a couple of friends who were also bronze riders. They came up with a plan to help him win. Firstly, he befriended the Weyrwoman - just like F’drun with Kylara - so that he could find out when her dragon was close to rising. Then they made sure the Weyrleader was out of the picture.’

‘How?’ It sounded intriguing.

‘It was during Threadfall. A bag of firestone fell on him. No one could prove it wasn’t an accident.’

‘They killed him?’ This was turning nasty.

‘No, but he was badly hurt. Unconscious. And in the mean time, they’d all worked out what they were going to do. There was this other dragon they thought might be in with a chance, so the friends got their dragons to block him during the flight. They kept him away from the queen for long enough that Os’tor’s dragon won. Once he was Weyrleader, he rewarded all his friends by making them Wingleaders.’

‘That’s all very well, but what happened the next time the queen rose?’

‘He made sure any of his rivals were out of the way. Some got transferred to other Weyrs. Others were warned off; they, or people they cared about were threatened. And his friends carried on helping him. It obviously worked, because he stayed Weyrleader for almost twenty Turns.’

‘What about the previous Weyrleader? The one who was injured?’

‘I asked about that. F’drun gave one of these horrible smiles and said he died in his sleep. I got the impression he might have been helped along.’ S’fyn looked uneasy. ‘Do you think he’s planning on doing the same at Southern? Because that’s what I reckon. That’s why I needed to tell you.’

D’gar shivered, despite the warmth. It felt as if he was back in the chilly archives at High Reaches, listening to Pilgra’s account. The gentle sway of the branches above their heads, the sound of the river’s placid flow seemed far removed from the intrigue S’fyn was suggesting. But as he considered what he’d been told, he spotted a flaw in the plan. ‘You’re forgetting one thing. Firstly, Prideth’s only just mated. He’d have to wait a while to make his move.’

‘Oh, he knows that. It’s why he’s getting folk on his side now, so he’s ready when the time comes. That’s why he wants us to start practising.’

‘Practising?’

‘Yes, on green flights. He wants us to send our dragons up. Not to win, necessarily, but just to see if we can change the outcome. Stop the dragon who looks like winning.’

‘That’s easier said than done. Has Folath chased anyone yet?’

‘A green. Didn’t catch her though.’ He gave a wry smile.

‘Then you know what it’s like. Most riders aren’t in any fit state to start thinking about anything except what’s on their dragon’s mind.’

‘That’s why we need to practise, he says. According to him, the more times we try, the better we’ll get at staying detached.’

There was some truth in that; he knew from his own experience that he didn’t get carried away anywhere near as much these days as in Herebeth’s first mating flights. ‘And when does he want you to start doing this?’

‘He’s going to tell us which dragons to chase. He says it’s best not to do it too often, or it’ll look suspicious.’ S’fyn looked worried. ‘I’m not sure as I want to get involved in that. I mean, what if we hurt someone? Folath’s a big dragon. If he barges into a blue, it could be nasty.’

‘I wouldn’t worry too much. Folath won’t do anything you think is wrong.’

‘But what if I’m not thinking it’s wrong any more? Shells, D’gar. If he’s really trying to kill the Weyrleader and I don’t do anything to stop it, I’m almost as bad as he is.’

‘It could all be talk.’ D’gar tried to reassure him, even though he knew it probably wasn’t where F’drun was involved.

‘It’s not. You weren’t there. You didn’t see the expression on his face when he was telling us that story. He wants to be Weyrleader and he’ll do anything to make it happen.’

All right, all right.’ D’gar noticed that Folath was twitching his tail and looking restless; a clear sign of the distress his rider was feeling. ‘You’ve said yourself it’s not going to happen right away. He’s making plans for the future and getting people on his side who can help him. First things first. I think you should tell T’bor what you’ve just told me.’

S’fyn shook his head. ’I can’t. I mean, I trust T’bor, but I might not be able to persuade him that the threat’s serious. And then, what if he starts asking F’drun questions? He might figure out where it came from and drop a bag of firestone on my head.’

D’gar realised it wasn’t fair to expect a youngster like S’fyn to cope with all this alone. ‘Then hang in there. Find out more, if you can and once you’re back at Benden, I’ll come along with you and we can tell F’lar. Then you’ll be safely away from F’drun, but you’ll have done your duty.’

He nodded tersely. ‘That would be better.’

‘So, for the rest of the time you have left here, just be very careful. Play along with him and don’t draw any suspicion on yourself. It’s probably best we don’t meet again. But if it’s urgent, then get Folath to bespeak Herebeth.’

‘Don’t say anything to anyone, will you, until I’m back. If he gets to hear…’ There was real fear in his voice.

‘I won’t. I promise.’

They left, separately. S’fyn flew off first, while D’gar waited under the trees. How much of that did you understand? he asked Herebeth.

I understand that man is bad. But I knew that anyway. He tried to hurt you.

It’s important you don’t mention this to any other dragons. If they tell their riders and it gets passed on then Folath’s rider could be hurt. So could Folath.

I will say nothing.

He mounted up and visualised Benden in the evening light. Herebeth went between just a few dragon lengths above the ground, in case anyone saw them.

The sun was low among the grey peaks of the Benden range. The soft light of glows illuminated many of the weyr openings as they descended into the Bowl. D’gar glanced toward the lake and saw that a fire was blazing merrily on the shore. There were silhouettes of people and dragons against the flames. Evidently the picnic was still going on.

Drop me off there, please.

Herebeth landed neatly, far enough from the fire not to disturb it.

H’rek waved and beckoned him over. ‘Had anything to eat?’

‘Agarra fed me earlier. She thinks I’m on the verge of starving all the time. She even sent some emergency cake.’ He unwrapped it to show H’rek. ‘Go on, have a bit.’

H’rek dug in. ‘Bavi’s grilled some wherry and there’s a few meat rolls left too. Go and help yourself.’

‘Think I will.’ He strolled over. This was all so far removed from F’drun’s plotting, it made the whole interlude at Southern seem like an unpleasant dream.

People had brought rugs and bed furs out and lounged on the beach; the same beach where he’d waded into the water just a couple of months ago. Remembering that day reminded him yet again of F’drun. He had to be stopped. But he’d promised S’fyn not to say anything…

‘You look like you’re miles away,’ Bavi said. ‘Left your thoughts back at Fort?’

‘Oh, er, yes.’

‘Grab some food, then.’

‘This is great, Bavi. Good idea.’

‘Oh, we do this a few times every summer. You don’t need a weyr to have a party when the weather’s decent.’ She glanced over to the shore. A green dragon was partially submerged in the shallows. D’gar recognised Rioth. Several weyrbrats were holding on to her tail as she swished it through the water. They laughed and splashed around.

He helped himself to food, then rejoined H’rek. ‘Looks like you’ve had a better day than I did,’ he said, before taking a bite from a wherry leg.

‘Oh. Bad news?’

‘Some. Fort was fine.’ He stared up at the darkening sky, where the first stars were starting to show as night fell. ‘The rest not so much.’ The meat was perfectly cooked and succulent, but he barely tasted it.

‘Can you tell me anything about it? Your meeting?’

D’gar really wanted to but he remembered the fear in S’fyn’s expression. ‘I can’t. I promised. Just until he gets back…’ He stopped, realising he’d already given away too much. ‘I’m sorry H’rek.’

‘It’s all right. You know what you’re doing.’ H’rek took his free hand and squeezed it.

D’gar wished he had the same confidence in himself. He felt as if he’d got into a situation beyond his experience and dragged S’fyn into it too. ‘I hope so,’ he said quietly.

‘So, er, what did R’feem say?’

That was a safer topic. ‘He approved.’

‘That’s great. You’re going to accept, then?’

He threw the stripped bone into the fire, watching it flare briefly. ‘Probably.’ It didn’t seem so important now. His mind kept drifting back to S’fyn, hoping he’d be safe.

‘You don’t seem all that happy about it. I thought you’d decided you wanted the job.’

‘Sorry,’ he said again. ‘I do want the job. I want us to be able to stay together. I just need to think through a few more things first.’

‘Don’t wait too long. F’lar might decide you aren’t keen enough.’ H’rek warned. ‘I still think you’d make a great Weyrlingmaster. Mind you, I’m biased.’

D’gar forced a smile. He tried to push his worries aside and enjoy the moment, like a dragon. Tomorrow was time enough to consider his options on both the job offer and the problem of Fdrun.

‘Bavi’s charges look like they’re starting to enjoy life at the Weyr.’ H’rek gestured over to their right. The two lads sat close together, arms around each other. ‘Young love. Sweet, isn’t it?’

©1967-2022 Ann McCaffrey, Todd McCaffrey, Gigi McCaffrey; All Rights Reserved; Copyright © 2020 Mawgrim; All Rights Reserved.
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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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It is with great sadness I must announce the death of Mawgrim, Promising Author on GA. He had been in declining health for some time and passed away on Christmas Day. Mawgrim worked for decades as a cinema projectionist before his retirement and was able to use this breadth of knowledge to his stories set in cinemas. He also gave us stories with his take on the World of Pern with its dragon riders. He will be greatly missed and our condolences go out to his friends, family, and his husband.
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Okay, D'Gar would have little chance to meet Fandarel, but isn't the Harper Hall located at Fort?  Since he went to the Gather there shortly after arriving in the present Pass, I'd have thought he might have seen more harpers...
Not a criticism at all, just wondering as I love your stories of these events!
Now I'm wondering if the two boys rescued from threadfall after being kicked out by their fathers might Impress at the next Benden hatching?

 

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D'gar please to agree to be Weyrlingmaster at Benden and no longer tied to Fort. Sad for his Mother, but its not like he still can't visit or is no longer her Son. Of course his visits may be fraught with some unpleasantness re his Benden knots.

I worry about S'fyn's safety.

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5 hours ago, Buz said:

 

D'gar please to agree to be Weyrlingmaster at Benden and no longer tied to Fort. Sad for his Mother, but its not like he still can't visit or is no longer her Son. Of course his visits may be fraught with some unpleasantness re his Benden knots.

I worry about S'fyn's safety.

 

It's never easy to move on. Transferring to Benden would be the best solution to staying with H'rek and D'gar would do the job well. Once he's had the time to think through everything, then he'll make a decision.

Worrying about S'fyn's safety is going to be on D'gar's mind quite a bit over the next few sevendays.

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On 1/6/2021 at 2:00 PM, ColumbusGuy said:

Since he went to the Gather there shortly after arriving in the present Pass, I'd have thought he might have seen more harpers...

He did hear about the Masterharper Robinton being close with F'lar and Lessa, but the Gather was only one day, and D'gar hasn't had any reason to visit the Harper Hall.

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After meeting S'fyn, D'gar should realise that Rioth will definitely be a target, and F'drun will be the one who wants Ryth to fly her.  That will give F'drun a way to permanently injure or even kill H'rek without any consequences.  Since Herebeth will probably be there when Rioth rises, he could also suffer the same fate.  I hope that S'fyn stays safe and is able to warn D'gar of F'drun's plan before anything bad happens.

Edited by raven1
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On 2/9/2022 at 10:09 AM, raven1 said:

After meeting S'fyn, D'gar should realise that Rioth will definitely be a target, and F'drun will be the one who wants Ryth to fly her.  That will give F'drun a way to permanently injure or even kill H'rek without any consequences.

After what S'fyn has told D'gar, it really surprises me that he hasn't realized who the practice target is. Yeah, yeah, he has a lot on his mind...

I gotta stop reading these comments!

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46 minutes ago, Ordu378 said:

After what S'fyn has told D'gar, it really surprises me that he hasn't realized who the practice target is. Yeah, yeah, he has a lot on his mind...

I gotta stop reading these comments!

The comments just add to each chapter. I love it when readers guess at motivations and plot or even come up with suggestions for how to get rid of an unpopular character!

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