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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 - 1. Chapter 1

Thread is coming.

“Thread is coming.” The dragonrider’s voice echoed the thoughts in the young holder’s head and he shuddered at the sounds ringing in his head with a deep baritone voice he’d never imagined before. The Harpers sang that Pern’s ancient enemy was on its way back to ravage the green hills and valleys of Pern’s Northern Continent, but Jashon’s father had told him over and over again they were just stories.

Holder Kapian was quite certain that Pern was due for another Long Interval and so he’d moved out of the traditional holds cut into stone edifices and had tilled a massive swath of land in the center of the plains, with a wooden hold built in the middle in defiance of all traditions. The other sevenday, the Lord Holder had come to express his disapproval once again, but had stopped short of ordering Kapian to abandon his stone-less hold. No, Kapian produced too many good crops and fruits from his orchards to be dismissed so blithely, as well as well-fed herdbeasts and runners. Now a brown dragon had landed, and the brown-haired, tall, wide-shouldered Holder was facing down the dragonrider who sniffed contemptuously at all the buildings and sheds outside of a proper stone hold.

“We are long past due for what the old ones called a Long Interval.” Kapian replied as politely as he could to the dragonrider. He might not believe Thread would fall again, that voracious organism that consumed all living things whether grass or animal, or even humans, but Kapian still honored the ancient role of dragonriders when it came to protecting Pern from Thread. They might not be needed now, but after the Long Internal, in another two hundred and fifty turns, they’d be needed again.

“What do you know of intervals?” The dragonrider actually sniffed. Jashon watched his father arguing with the dragonrider with awe. Jashon had little in common with his brothers and father. While his brothers shared their father’s darker complexion and light brown hair, Jashon was fair in complexion and had dark hair like their mother. His older and younger brothers all had their mother’s eyes, though. Jashon was proud that while his two younger sisters also sported light blue eyes, he was the only boy in the family to have eyes the same light blue of his father’s.

“I’ve read the ancient records.” Kapian answered proudly. “My father was a Harper, you know.”

“No, I didn’t know, Holder.” Brown rider S’lag said with a slight hint of a bow at the news. Dragonriders always liked Harpers and gave them more deference than they usually gave mere holders.

“Well I got a good look at many old records when I was younger, and when I married Serece, I knew we could hold out here safely.” Jashon’s father continued in a refrain Jashon could have repeated by heart. Karnen, the next oldest brother to Jashon, who was just past his sixteenth turn, came up with bits of straw still stuck in his brown hair and breathing heavy. Like all the family of Kapian, Karnen wore dark brown pants and white tunic with a brown vest. Over in Keroon Hold, whenever there was a Gather or they went to sell their crops and beasts, Jashon heard the jokes about always being able to tell one of Kapian’s bunch.

“What will you do when Thread comes?” S’lag asked the holder who shrugged and smiled at the brown rider. Jashon noticed the brown dragon watching him again, and tried to ignore the beast. “The queens rise to mate more often than they did last turn, and their clutches are bigger.”

“Never you worry, dragonrider.” Kapian said with a smile. “We’ll continue our tithe to the Weyr. Even if Thread does not fall next turn, we’ll still need dragons when it returns in two hundred and fifty turns.”

“I almost wish you were right, holder.” S’lag said with a chuckle. “It will be a pity to lose one such as you, and your fields. Please tell me you will plan for the day Thread comes.”

“My father did not raise an idiot for a son.” Jashon was proud of his father’s reaction to the dragonrider’s disbelief. His father was neither patronizing nor upset, rather he was being very reasonable. “If I am wrong, and I am but a man so on occasion it might be possible for me to be wrong, my family and I will seek safety in the nearest hold.”

“What if Thread falls and you are unable to make your way there in safety?” S’lag asked.

“Then we will seek shelter in a tunnel I am digging under the house for just those circumstances.” Kapian replied with a smile. “I have already ordered some of those flamethrowers, and the shelter will be well-stocked at all times for my family and our tenants. When thread fall is over, we will destroy any burrows between us and the safety of stone.”

“Yet you do not believe Thread will fall?” S’lag’s voice sounded like he was impressed.

“No, but it is better to be prepared than to learn I am wrong as thread consumes my family as well as my crops.” Kapian sounded so reasonable, so well-thought out that Jashon couldn’t help but be proud of his brave father.

“Now I see why Lord Hapian has allowed you to hold here.” S’lag said with an approving nod. “If you are right, your holding will provide much needed food, and you are prepared in case you are wrong. Very well, I’ll report to the Weyrleader that you know what you’re about. Thank you for your time, Holder.”

“Always a pleasure, dragonrider.” Kapian said with a slight bow as befitted a holder to a brown rider. The rider turned to leave, but as he mounted his huge brown dragon, his eyes locked with Jashon’s for a moment. The rider was an older man, wearing wher-hide pants and a heavy jacket. Meeting the rider’s gaze, Jashon felt a chill run down his back before the dragon spread its wings and took the sky with a lunge and a beat of his wings. “Don’t be daydreaming about dragons, Jas, good holder folk like us have nothing to do with them.”

“Yes father.” Jashon said immediately. His father may trust dragonriders to flame Thread if it fell, and would always do his duty by the Weyr as far as the tithes to support the dragon folk, but it would be a cold day on the Hatching Grounds before Holder Kapian would welcome a dragonrider into his hearth. Sometimes to hear him speak, he worried constantly about a dragonrider coming and claiming one of his children as a ‘weyrmate’.

“Dragonriders are needed for Pern, no matter how distasteful their lives.” Kapian repeated the oft-heard phrase for Jashon’s sake one more time. “Now, you were telling me of a problem with the south fence?”

“Yes, father, I found several posts that look like they’ve come loose in their holes.” Jashon continued with the report he’d been about to give his father when the brown dragon had appeared in the sky. Watching the dragon come in and land, and then take off again had stirred his blood in a way he hoped his father would never know. “I tried filling in the old holes, but the posts don’t want to hold. They should probably be replaced.”

“Well Komer ought to be just about done with his lessons for the day.” Kapian said after a moment of thought, referring to the next younger brother. “Go grab him to help you cut some new posts and dig new holes.”

“Yes, father.” Jashon said before taking off at a trot. Unless you were inside, his father liked to see everyone trotting about the large stone-less hold. It was more ‘industrious’ than walking, and made sure all of the family and tenants in the hold were in good physical condition. As he trotted off, he could hear Karnen beginning a diatribe about their lazy oldest brother, Bevan.

“He was supposed to be helping me muck out the stalls and instead he was off daydreaming again!” Karnen complained.

By the time their father was replying to the complaints, Jashon was already too far away to hear them. Komer was helping their mother, Serece, clean out the large central room of the spacious wooden building. She used it for the traditional lessons all children were taught, usually by Harpers. There wasn’t a Harper out here, but their mother knew all the Teaching Songs and did a good job. A Harper came out every now and then to check and make sure the hold’s children knew their songs. In addition to their own children there were another ten children from the hold’s tenants.

“Komer, Da says for you to help me with mending some of the fence along the southern edge.” Jashon said to his younger brother. Komer looked at him for a moment before nodding. It was embarrassing to Jashon that even though he was a turn younger, Komer was as tall as Jashon, but even bigger across the shoulders.

Jashon took after his mother with his lighter skin, jet-black hair and slender build. All of his brothers took after their father, with darker brown skin, wide, strong shoulders and they were all taller. His next younger brother, a turn younger than Komer was already almost as tall as Jashon.

“You boys get something to drink before you head out there.” Their mother, a short woman with long black hair in a single braid down her back said with a kind smile. “It’s hot out there today.”

“Yes, mother.” Jashon said dutifully before claiming a glass of fresh fruit juice that was still cool from the cellar. His father hadn’t exactly lied about digging a shelter underground, but its primary purpose was to be for storing things in a cool room.

“Did the ground quake really damage a lot of the fence?” Komer asked as they made their way out of the hold. It was as untraditional a building as anyone could ever find on Pern. Every two hundred turns, the Harper songs taught, Thread fell from the sky. The songs said Thread was a long, thin gray parasite that would eat any living thing it touched.

That was why dragons existed on Pern, bound to their riders from the moment they hatched from their eggs, they rose into the sky with flaming breath whenever Thread fell and flamed it from the skies before it could reach the ground. If Thread got past them, ground crews would converge with flamethrowers, devices with large tanks carried on the back of a man and with a long rod he could use to burn Thread before it could burrow and eat whatever life it found there, plant or animal.

“Not much, but some of the posts were damaged.” Jashon replied as he led the way to one of the storage sheds. They spent the next hour cutting the prepared posts down to the right size and loading them into a handcart before heading out to the damaged section. His brother may have been bigger and stronger, but Jashon was quick with his hands, and his mind, so it was he who led the effort to replace the posts before the sun set over the horizon.

It was quiet out there in the field, a good half-hour walk from their hold. No other hold on Pern was nearly as big as Kapian Hold, but that was because of the ancient strictures on where men could hold. Because Thread consumed any living plant or animal, men had long since taken to stone holds, caves made into shelter for people and animals. These stone holds were kept free of any living grass or other plants to ensure Thread that made it past the flaming dragons would find nothing to consume near the places where humans lived.

That was why so many thought Jashon’s father was insane for trying to hold outin the middle of the Keroon plains. Nearly two hundred turns after the last time Thread fell on the planet, men still kept to stone that could be cleared of plants and kept Thread-free, except for the radical Kapian who claimed that Thread wouldn’t fall in this Pass.

For the last turn, the Red Star had been growing brighter in the sky, and in the last few months, the ground quakes had started again. They were traditional signs that Thread was coming. The organism always appeared as the Red Star approached Pern every two hundred turns. Once the Red Star reached the point in the sky marked by the Star Stones in the dragon weyrs, the Harper songs said Thread would soon fall once more.

Once before, in the ancient history of Pern, the Red Star had come, but Thread had not fallen on Pern. The old records had called it a ‘Long Interval’. Jashon knew that as a young man his father had studied the old records of the Harper Hall, and he’d come to the conclusion that this time, as the Red Star approached, there would be another Interval and Thread would not fall on Pern. Jashon wasn’t sure which to believe, the ground quakes and the brightening Red Star, or his father’s assurances.

“You’re going to burn again.” Komer warned him as Jashon took off his tunic while they worked. They had to dig new holes and put the posts in them before attaching the rails to the posts. It wasn’t easy labor, but with his stronger brother’s help, and his nimble hands, they were progressing quickly.

“I’ve darkened with the sun already.” Jashon assured his brother who also had his shirt off. He tried to make sure the envy he was feeling didn’t show on his face. When he’d reached fourteen, he’d given up on ever growing to be as broad or tall as his brothers. His father didn’t say anything, but he thought he saw a disappointment in the man’s eyes whenever he looked at Jashon in the company of his brothers. It hurt, but it was an old, familiar hurt now.

“Did you really see the dragonrider?” Komer asked after they’d finished the third post and moved to the fourth.

“Yes.” Jashon said shortly. Their father respected the ancient role of dragonriders as the protectors of Pern, but he didn’t like them. Many was the night they’d heard their father remark on the ‘depravity’ of dragonriders, but they were never sure exactly what he meant by the statement. Jashon privately believed it was because when they weren’t fighting Thread, dragonriders were lazy. Sure, they flew sweeps and had their Games, but except for occasionally delivering messages or carrying people in an emergency, they didn’t do much. Kapian Hold, like every other hold on Pern had a message pole that they could affix a flag to in case of an emergency, but they’d never had cause to use it, and knew a dragonrider would be angry if they used it frivolously.

“What color was the dragon?” Komer asked excitedly. Around their father they knew better than to be curious about dragonriders, but it was just the two of them out here. Jashon lifted his dark eyes and smiled at his brother.

“It was a brown dragon.” Jashon said in a hushed voice, letting the awe he’d secretly felt seep through.

“You always luck out.” Komer said excitedly. “Tell me everything!”

“It was as brown as freshly-tilled earth.” Jashon recalled. “And nearly twenty-eight feet in length. You should have seen it’s eyes. There were so many facets and they practically whirled with colors.”

“What colors?” Komer asked in an equally hushed tone. He had a broad grin on his face, and Jashon reflected how lucky he was. His brothers could have been the type to push him around, with him being smaller than him, but they all seemed to respect him for his other traits, his quick hands and his quick mind that often helped them get out of trouble with their father.

“Mostly blue with touches of green.” Jashon recalled as they reached the next post and began to pull the old one out of the ground. Being loosened already, it came right out and they set about refilling the old hole and digging a newer one.

“Those are the good colors for the eyes, right?” Komer asked and Jashon nodded his agreement. Dragon eyes changed color based on their feelings, the songs taught. Red meant they were hungry, orange was danger, or anger, yellow meant they were in pain and on and on. “How do you remember all this stuff?”

“I just do.” Jashon said with a shrug.

“Did the rider try to tell father about Thread again?” Komer asked.

Thread is coming.

The echo of that deep voice rang again in Jashon’s head and he shook it to clear out the memory. The dragon had looked at him while his rider had said that phrase and for a moment Jashon had believed the dragon had been talking to him. That was just silly, though, and he told himself again that it had just been his imagination. Dragons talked only to their riders, or rarely to another rider, like the gold queen Holth had talked to Moreta at the end of the last pass.

That was another Harper tale, the ballad of Moreta’s Last Ride. It was probably the saddest of them all. Moreta had been the rider of gold Orlith near the end of the last Pass, the last time Thread had fallen on Pern. Plague had broken out, and Moreta had helped save countless holds by delivering medicine to the sick. Her dragon, Orlith had just laid a clutch of eggs, and so Moreta had ridden an older queen dragon. The pair had gone between, that place dragons went when they traveled quickly from one point to another, and they had never returned.

Everyone knew dragons died when their riders died, and most of the time riders died with their dragons. The tales said that Orlith had stayed with Leri, the old rider of Holth, until her eggs were ready to hatch, and then they’d joined Moreta and Holth in the cold that was between.

“Jashon?” Komer asked worriedly when Jashon didn’t answer immediately.

“Sorry, yes, he said ‘Thread was coming’.” Jashon answered after shaking himself to rid the dire thoughts from his mind. No one could look on the great dragons without wonder, and thinking of them dying was terrifying. S’lag’s dragon had been a beautiful creature.

“But he didn’t say we had to leave, right?” Komer persisted.

“No, not unless Thread does come.” Jashon said. “Even then, that’s a turn or more off, you know.”

“Yes, I know.” Komer agreed as he lifted the next pole from the handcart. Jashon suppressed his envy yet again. He could have lifted the pole himself with great effort, but Komer made it look easy.

“That’s it for the day.” Jashon said several hours later as they finished the eighth post. Both of them were dirty as well as sweaty.

“Good.” Komer said as he wiped sweat from his face. It left dirty tracks, but he was still smiling. “Mother is fixing roast wherry tonight.”

“That sounds good.” Jashon agreed as his stomach rumbled and they put the rest of their tools in the cart before heading back. Komer took the cart without complaint. It was just another example of how his brothers all looked after Jashon.

Dinner was a rather noisy affair as usual. Jashon sat in the middle of the table, surrounded by his siblings while the other families that lived in the main hold with them sat on the other end. At the head table, his father and mother sat with the main families that had originally joined them on the expedition to establish this hold ten turns ago.

While he let the bantering of his brothers and the children of the other holders wash over him, Jashon found himself thinking once again about the contradictions that his father embodied. Kapian had grown up in Harper Hall, one of the most revered Crafts on Pern. The people of Pern almost always belonged to one of the three societies of Pern, Hold, Craft, or Weyr.

Holders were the backbone of Pern, growing the crops and maintaining the buildings and caverns that provided shelter for the population. The Crafts, of which Harper, Healer, Miner, Smith, Trader, and Beast were the most familiar to Jashon, provided specialized services to the Holders and the Weyrs. Harpers taught the young, entertained everyone, and often passed messages through a system of drummer relays. Healers tended to the sick and injured, Miners retrieved precious ores from the ground, Smiths made the ores into useful tools, Traders drove their wagons across the ground carrying supplies from one place to the other, and the Beastcraft tended to the welfare of the animals. Here in Kapian Hold, Journeyman Rinald was the only crafter present. He was from the Beastcraft and helped take care of the sizeable herds of wherries and runners that were the main source of income for the hold.

That was why repairing the fence was so important. Kapian wanted to move the runner herd to the southern pasture, but couldn’t until the fence was fixed. No one wanted to have to chase across the plains to find runners that had broken through the fence.

The third segment of society, the Weyrs, was the one that Jashon was both familiar with and at the same time found unfamiliar. Everyone knew dragons flew against Thread during a pass, and the Harper songs made sure that everyone on Pern understood the differences between the five types of dragons. Lowliest of all dragons were the female greens. Green dragons were all females, but unable to produce eggs because of the firestone they chewed to make flame. They were the smallest of all dragons, but still big enough to carry three or four people, and they were the most maneuverable of all dragons as well as the most common. Harpers taught that all the other colors combined usually equaled the number of green dragons alive at any given point.

Blue dragons were the next smallest dragon. They were male dragons, and less maneuverable than the greens, but also were stronger. Harper song said they were also more intelligent and less flighty than their smaller green sisters.

Brown dragons, like the one that Jashon had seen today were the ‘middle’ dragons. Bigger than blue dragons, and more intelligent, they were less maneuverable but had even more stamina than the blues. Many brown dragonriders were wing-seconds or held other leadership positions in the Weyr according to the songs.

Bronze dragons, who were male just like the browns and blues, were the biggest of the male dragons. It was they who most often flew the great golden queens, and it was the riders of the bronze dragons that led the Weyrs. Whichever rider’s bronze flew the most senior golden dragon was the Weyrleader, and most other bronze riders were Wingleaders. When dragons and their riders performed feats that Harpers recorded in songs, most were bronze or gold riders.

Gold dragons were the queens of dragon kind. The rider of a senior queen dragon was the Weyrwoman, and helped the Weyrleader rule the dragon Weyr. Queen dragons were the only fertile females of dragon kind and were the only dragons to choose women as riders. Kapian claimed that old records spoke of female green riders, but no one else on Pern would give credence to such an odd idea. Queens didn’t chew firestone, but when they rose to mate, three months later they would deposit a clutch of eggs on the hatching sands of the Weyr.

Six months ago, word spread around Pern, reaching even Kapian hold that all the queens in all of Pern’s six weyrs were rising more than they had since the end of the last pass. For the past two hundred turns, most weyrs only had two, maybe three queens that would clutch two times a turn at most. Already this turn, every queen had risen at least twice, and Maenath in Igen had clutched for the third time, and this last clutch included thirty-eight eggs including a golden egg that would hatch a new queen.

The fact that the queens were mating so frequently, building the ranks of the Weyrs to a level not seen since the last time Thread fell, made Jashon wonder if his father was right about Thread not falling this time around. Already most of the weyrs had at least one new queen, while most already had three new gold dragons. It took many turns for the new queens to rise to mate for the first time, but the mature queens were doing a good job of filling the Weyrs with new dragons.

Would they be doing that if Thread––

“Jashon!” His father’s voice from the main table cut short his thinking and Jashon turned to face his father expectantly. He wanted to shake at the thought that whatever he did, he might displease his father, but he fought to stay calm. It wasn’t easy, but he managed it, or at least he thought he did. “What are you so nervous for, boy?”

“N–nothing father.” Jashon said with a blush he couldn’t control.

“Calm down, boy.” Kapian said firmly. “Do you think the fence along the south range will be fixed by mid-day tomorrow?”

“If…if I can have some help again in the morning, yes.” Jashon’s voice shook as he lowered his head with shame at the admission of not being able to do the job himself.

“Don’t hang your head, boy.” Kapian’s voice held a note of disapproval and Jashon bit back tears at the idea he had displeased his father yet again.

“Sorry, father.” Jashon’s voice quivered and he felt Komer’s hand squeezing his knee under the table. His brother’s support helped, but then he realized he must be looking like a fool to his younger brother.

“Don’t be sorry, Jashon.” Kapian’s voice took a softer edge. “I gave you the task to repair that fence because I knew you’d be able to understand what had to be done and what it would take to do it, and you haven’t let me down yet. Serece, can Komer be spared from the morning’s lessons?”

“Yes, husband, he mastered the ballad we worked on earlier today.” Jashon’s mother said with a kindly smile to both boys. Beside him, Komer beamed with pride at the rare praise of his learning ability. His voice wasn’t as good as Jashon’s but he was a fair hand on the small drums used to keep time when they learned the Teaching Ballads.

“Which ballad?” Kapian asked with real curiosity and a smile of approval for Jashon’s younger brother. Jashon bit back the jealousy at how even his younger brother won those smiles so easily while he rarely got one.

Holder’s Duty.” Serece replied and Kapian barely hid his grimace. It was the Ballad that taught about cleaning green growing things away from the hold, scouring them down to stone, before Thread fell. Here, in Kapian Hold, it was impossible to do what the ballad taught, but that didn’t stop it from being taught. Harper Hall required its teaching to all holders and crafters as well as weyr children.

“If he’s learned it, he can help Jashon in the morning.” Kapian said coolly, not showing his displeasure any longer. “I’ll need the help of the other boys in the western fields cutting the fodder. Once it’s bailed in a few days, we should send a few wagon loads to Keroon. The brown rider today mentioned that their stocks for their herdbeasts are starting to run low. Keroon will send it on with the next tithe train.”

“That sounds fine husband.” Serece said with a smile, and business was done, or at least business that involved Jashon. Later that night, after the dinner had been cleared and the tables pushed back against the walls, Jashon sat playing his father’s gitar while Komer beat the tune on his drums. It was a fun night, as the two boys sang some of the livelier songs, with Ilena, one of the daughters of the other holders, joining them with her clear, strong voice. Kapian may have chosen to hold instead of Harper, but that did not mean he’d turned his back on the craft of his upbringing. He’d been born and raised in Harper Hall, and he’d taught his children to play and sing while they still dangled from his knees. Of the older children, it was Jashon and Komer who had the best voices and were the most skilled at playing though.

Once his father had asked Jashon if he wanted to be apprenticed to Harper Hall. Kapian had said Jashon could easily make a fine Harper, but Jashon had politely turned down the offer. When his father had smiled warmly and given him a hug, Jashon had known he’d made the right decision. The memory of that wonderful day had been one of the best of Jashon’s life, and he replayed it behind his closed eyes as he drifted off to sleep that night.

The next morning, he had rounded up Komer just after they had broken their fast and headed out to finish the last of the fence post repairs. Jashon pushed hard at the work, much to Komer’s dismay, but they were done nearly a half-hour before lunch was to be served. They returned to the hall in plenty of time to clean up before their mother and the other hold women served the meal.

“Now that you’ve gotten the fences repaired, I want you and Komer to move the wagon runners to that field.” Kapian declared after Jashon had reported the completion of their task. Jashon nodded and turned to grab his brother who was busy talking to Ilena. His brother didn’t look pleased to be dragged away from the pretty girl so quickly, but Jashon reminded him that there’d be plenty of time that night to talk to the girl.

“I don’t know why I bother, anyway.” Komer groused as they headed to the paddocks where the herd being bred for pulling trader wagons was being corralled. The south field was being allowed to lie fallow this turn, while Northern and Western were being plowed for the fodder that would see the herds through winter, and the excess would be sold for a profit. There was also a section of each field, fenced off, that was used to grow vegetables for their own use during the winter. On the edges of the field were several groves of trees, the only trees in sight really, planted by Kapian when he first established the hold. Now, turns later, they were thriving despite the belief of other holders that the plains couldn’t provide nourishment the trees would need.

“She’s a pretty girl.” Jashon replied to his brother.

“She’s got her eyes set on you, you know.” Komer teased him, jabbing his elbow into Jashon’s ribs.

“You’re just saying that.” Jashon said with an uncomfortable blush.

“Let’s get these runners to the right field.” Komer said as they reached the paddock and made ready to move the herd. They could have saddled two of the saddle-trained runners, but their father preferred for the younger boys to do things on foot. He said it built character.

With Jashon taking the lead and Komer urging the herd on from behind and to each side, it was relatively easy to move the runners. They were mellow beasts, a good trait in runners that would be used to haul carts and wagons, and took to the practiced guidance of the two youths rather easily. When the entire herd was safely penned in the south fields and the fence gate was shut, both boys were surprised by the sudden panic of the beasts until several shadows fell across them.

“Look at that!” Komer crowed excitedly while Jashon frowned. The runners were racing straight in the direction of the repaired fence, and he mumbled nervous curses, hoping the fence would hold. The beasts reached the fence and turned easily, running along the fence until they reached the section that curved northward, and then followed that section. With a sigh of relief, Jashon turned to look at the beasts that had panicked the herd. If they’d shown up mere moments earlier, the panicked runner herd could have crushed him and Komer.

“Isn’t that the biggest dragon you’ve ever seen?” Komer was saying excitedly as he pointed at the large bronze that was even now coming in to land near the main entrance of the wooden hold. A familiar brown dragon moved in formation with the large bronze, while a blue dragon flew on the other side of the bronze. All three moved in what looked like long-practiced precise movements to land together. A bunch of excited women, and children, led by Serece filled the front steps of the hold while the riders slid off their dragons. Even the rider of the blue dragon had to slide several feet from his perch where the dragon’s neck met its body. Even at this distance, Jashon could see the leather riding straps that the riders used to climb up to their perches, and that held them in place while flying on their dragons.

“He is big.” Jashon admitted. He’d thought the brown was big, but the bronze dragon dwarfed the other two dragons. The blue might have fit in the main hall of the hold, but the bronze could have filled up almost the entire hold. “There’s Da coming up from the west field.”

“Think we can go listen in?” Komer asked as the bronze rider approached their mother and gave her a polite bow.

“Might as well, we need to tell Da we’re done.” Jashon said. “He’ll want our help in the fields.”

“You and your always wanting to work.” Komer said with a shake of his head. “I was hoping we’d skive off and maybe try catching some fish in the river.”

“Wouldn’t you rather see the dragons up close?” Jashon said with a snigger while his brother frowned at him. It wasn’t that his brothers were lazy, but they did like a little fun now and again. Jashon preferred doing the work he knew his father expected of him.

“Let’s go.” Komer said with a grin and a twinkle in his eyes that let Jashon know Komer understood how he was being manipulated. By the time they reached the front of the hold and the perimeter of the dragons, their father was already engaging the bronze rider in talk, and it didn’t sound pleasant. They came up on the side of the blue dragon, who was sitting on his haunches and watching the bronze rider arguing with Kapian. The dragon’s eyes where whirling with hints of red and yellow, and Jashon grew nervous, being fully aware of what those colors meant.

“I know what Search means, Weryleader!” Kapian practically yelled at the bronze rider and Jashon hissed as he drew in a breath and came to a dead stop. Komer bumped into him, but stopped immediately as well. The bronze rider was the Igen Weyrleader! That made him as powerful as any Lord Holder, much less a minor Holder like Kapian, and he was here on Search!

“Search?” Komer whispered and Jashon made a sushing motion while sidling sideway. It took him closer to the blue dragon, but kept them from direct sight of their father. Jashon knew his father would not want them around for this. Only their younger siblings were still on the steps, along with the other hold children. With the word ‘Search’, most of the other hold women had dragged the older daughters inside. From this angle, Jashon could see the smirk on brown rider S’lag’s face as he looked up the steps. The dragonrider hadn’t missed that little event either. Jashon noticed something else. Yesterday the brown rider had worn the shoulder knot of a Wing Rider to Igen Weyr, but today he wore the shoulder knot of a Weyrlingmaster. Where had the blue rider disappeared to?”

“If you know what it means, why the protest holder?” The Weyrleader asked in a calm voice that Jashon could barely make out. Komer sidled even closer to the dragon, and closer to the adults, using the dragon’s forelegs as cover.

“We’re a small hold, Weyrleader.” Jashon’s father said in a much calmer voice and Jashon was relieved his father wasn’t losing his temper. “I need every hand I have to keep things thriving!”

“You’ll have to leave this place before too long, when Thread returns.” The Weyrleader said dryly and waved off Kapian’s protests before he even managed to voice them. “I know you don’t believe Thread will return, and S’lag reports that unlike the others that share your belief, you at least prepare for the eventuality that you might be wrong. That is why we told Lord Bisal that we have no protests to your staying out here. When Thread comes, we will do what we can to make sure all of your folk arrive safely in one of those holds that have remained vacant since the plague of Moreta’s time.”

“Those holds remain vacant for a good reason, Weyrleader.” Kapian practically growled. “I appreciate your promise, Weyrleader, but that doesn’t change the fact that I need all my people.”

“S’lag says his Moeth sensed several possible candidates in this hold yesterday.” The Weyrleader said in a voice so soft that Jashon could barely hear him. “You should be honored. Most holds we go to don’t even have one person that might be a good Candidate, and your hold is teeming with them.”

“And you want to leave me with no one to help tend these herds or these fields?” Kapian responded angrily.

“How about a compromise, holder?” The Weyrleader said with a grin on his seamed face. Jashon realized he was creeping forward because now he was able to see the Weyrleaders face. He looked to be middle-aged, and his face was seamed as if constant flying had aged it early. His heavy wher-hide flying suit was opened up in the stifling heat of mid-day, and he held his flying helmet in his hand. When his suit was closed up, and he had on his goggles and helmet, he’d be totally covered from head to toe against the chill of the air while flying and the coldness of between as well.

“What do you have in mind?” Kapian asked guardedly.

Thread is coming.

That same baritone voice rang in Jashon’s head and he reached out with an arm to steady himself as he felt dizzy for a moment. With surprise he realized he was leaning on the blue dragon. Under his fingers, the dragon’s hide was smooth, and felt like suede. He could even see splotches of different shading amidst the light blue color, rather like a runner’s coloring. There were splotches of very light browns, and even a pale almost-bronze color that seemed to congregate in the areas of the dragon’s hide nearest his legs.

“Instead of Searching for anyone that might Impress, how about we just take the two likeliest candidates to Igen Weyr.” The Weyrleader proposed and Komer took in an excited breath and turned to look at Jashon, but Jashon was staring intently at the dragon’s head that was now hovering above him. The blue dragon’s long sinewy neck had turned, and now that slender, almost triangular head was facing him. The head reminded him of a runner beast’s in shape, although there were headknobs instead of ears, and the eyes were multi-faceted, and when the dragon opened its mouth, it revealed a forked tongue and rows of teeth with sharp incisors in front and molars for chewing along the sides.

Will you fly with us to fight it?

This voice was lighter than the baritone and held a hint of humor in it as the dragon let out a rumbling sound that was somehow reassuring and at the same time, challenging.

“One, and if they don’t Impress at the next Hatching, they get to come back here if they want.” Kapian challenged.

“What, you’re not going to demand they return?” The Weyrleader’s voice held a strong dose of sarcasm.

“Weyrleader, if any of my offspring want to stay in the Weyr, they’re more than welcome to it!” Kapian snarled back with disgust and Jashon decided not to stick around much longer. Komer wanted to ride dragons, he knew, and so he’d head back out to the field and make sure the dragonriders picked Komer. Jashon knew deep down he wasn’t just hearing things, and he knew dragons didn’t speak to non-riders, unless maybe they would become a rider. Komer could be a dragonrider, something deep inside told him that, and so if Jashon left, they might pick his younger brother. No, Jashon had no intention of leaving his father’s side for some time to come.

“Deal, holder.” The Weyrleader said as if he’d just won a victory. “We’ll search one from your fine hold, and if he doesn’t Impress, he can choose to return the day after the Hatching.”

“Deal.” Kapian said and Jashon started to move away just as his brother let out a whispered sound of excitement. All three dragons trumpeted out a sound of victory, and Jashon started shaking in fear as three sets of dragon eyes turned to face in his direction. Komer was standing stock still as the blue moved, revealing their presence to their father and the two riders while a hand clamped down on Jashon’s shoulder.

“Aliarth says he likes this lad the best of the two.” The blue dragonrider’s voice boomed from behind Jashon, who started shaking uncontrollably. His father’s frown cut him to the bone, as did Komer’s look of resentment. Jashon couldn’t stand it any more and fainted dead away, leaving the surprised blue rider to catch him before he hit the ground.

Once more, Emoe has provided immeasurable assistance in editing this story and has my sincerest thanks for his hard work. Also, with this story, my partner Robert has provided great assistance with many aspects of this story, including as a wonderful beta reader.
©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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Well as a start to a new story i might as well offer the first review. I'm curious about the original author that you basing this story on, it seems like it could be a good read. I'm so far enjoying the read so far, but the concept of turns confuses me, is that in relation to one year=one turn? or one day = one turn? cuz two hundred turns seems like alot of years.....probably too long. I'm also wondering what this young character will bring up as a dragon....i'm sure it won't be anything but the rarest of dragons....or so i can hope! even mightier then the Golden's :D

 

You also surprised me with the start of a brand new story and not book II of the "dreams of humanity" series? I do hope you continue you it one day it was a great read. KEep it UP!! :D

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On 03/18/2013 01:52 PM, Mark M said:
Well as a start to a new story i might as well offer the first review. I'm curious about the original author that you basing this story on, it seems like it could be a good read. I'm so far enjoying the read so far, but the concept of turns confuses me, is that in relation to one year=one turn? or one day = one turn? cuz two hundred turns seems like alot of years.....probably too long. I'm also wondering what this young character will bring up as a dragon....i'm sure it won't be anything but the rarest of dragons....or so i can hope! even mightier then the Golden's :D

 

You also surprised me with the start of a brand new story and not book II of the "dreams of humanity" series? I do hope you continue you it one day it was a great read. KEep it UP!! :D

I encourage reading all of the books of Anne McCaffrey on Pern. These stories, written decades ago had hints of gay characters, and sometimes more than hints in them, showing a society that for the most part didn't care if two dragonriders were weyrmates. A turn is about a year so the Red Star's elliptical orbit brings it close enough shed thread spores into Pern's gravitational pull every couple of centuries. If you take a chance on reading the books, you will eventually find out why and how - but here's a spoiler: Three of the stars in the night sky near the equator aren't stars. They are how humans came to this planet.
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On 03/18/2013 02:10 PM, stanollie said:
I was almost in pain this morning with the end of Book I of Dreams, but then you brought forth this new adventure. I have been in love with Pern for years. If anyone can do this justice I know that you can. But Please, don't wait too long for a return to Garrett, Neal, Billy and all. Those Earthers need comeuppance.
We won't wait too long. This story is more akin to Moreta's Last Ride than most of the other Pern books, so fair warning. It's also my answer to those that only seem to fixate on the metal colors and their riders. Blue and green riders make occasional appearances as minor characters, but I wanted to explore weyr life from the perspective of the lower orders - the every day green and blue riders who make the majority of every wery.
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