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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.  Original content provided by author of this FanFiction story without monetary compensation.

To the Weyr - 28. Jevikel's Dilemma

A few days had passed since the visit to the eggs. Most of the Holdbred candidates were settling down to Weyr life, with the exception of Hortaimin and a couple of others from northern Holds. Maybe people from the south were inherently more tolerant? Jevikel tried not to let it get to him, but he was getting mightily fed up with the snide comments. Kadin had a fall in the bathing chamber, which he told Jevikel was due to someone - he wasn’t sure who - tripping him. Fortunately he suffered nothing more serious than a bruised knee. Egevan was shoved into the wall on the way out from the dining hall. Again, it was crowded and he didn’t see who had done it.

‘Shouldn’t we mention it to someone?’ Jevikel asked.

‘To who?’ Egevan rubbed his elbow, which had taken the brunt of the impact. ‘We don’t even know who it was…’

‘I can guess,’ Kadin said.

‘Guessing’s not proof. Anyway, we’ve had all this before. Every time a group of Hold or Craftbred lads are Searched, there’s always one or two who don’t like the Weyr ways. It’ll calm down, nearer we get to the Hatching.’

Jevikel wasn’t so sure. He wondered if he should say something to D’gar, but doubted he could do anything much to stop it. The teasing would probably calm down in a little while. The Weyr prohibited fighting between riders, but they didn’t have dragons yet and if it was in self-defence surely that was different? He’d seen plenty of scraps and wrestling bouts among the weyrbrats. Not that he wanted to fight, but if it came to that - if he’d seen who tripped Kadin for example - then he’d have to do something.

‘Today, we’re going to learn about different dragon colours and the way they’re used in a fighting Wing,’ D’gar announced. ‘For the benefit of our recently arrived candidates, who missed out on our previous flying experience, I’ve asked a few riders to come along later, so you can feel those differences for yourselves. Those who’ve done it before are welcome to have a second turn.’

Excitement rippled around the room. They were inside today, due to a fine drizzle. D’gar wore his wherhide jacket, albeit unfastened, over his shirt.

‘Great,’ Kadin hissed in Jevikel’s ear. ‘I want to try Zurinth this time, to see how much quicker an Old… I mean five Weyrs green can turn.’

‘Kadin, if you please.’ D’gar held out the gitar. Sheltegan had no objection to Kadin using it as he had brought his own instruments. Beside, Kadin was careful and treated it well.

Kadin made his way to the front of the class. Jevikel noticed Hortaimin whispering to the lad next to him, another of those from Lemos. He was definitely going to keep an eye on those two.

‘Right. The “Colours Song”, if you please.’

Kadin perched on the edge of the table, strummed a chord, then sang.


‘“Greens are quick and swift in flight

Use them sparingly and light

Swap halfway or sooner still

To best preserve their speed and skill.

Blues can turn almost as fast

In good conditions they may last

Longer than green but less than brown

Watch them well and send them down,

Even if they want to stay,

Then they’ll fight another day.

Browns are strong and steady flyers

Can eat more firestone, feeding fires

Pair them with a green or blue

To clear the sky and see Fall through.

Bronze fly best with greens around

Stopping Thread from reaching ground

Their flame is fierce, their strength unmatched

Leaders of the rest from hatched.

Gold can fight, but not breathe flame,

With fire throwers their riders aim

Low level fighters, strong and brave

Injured dragons they can save.”’


‘Excellent,’ D’gar said. ‘Now, can anyone tell me the rough percentages of each colour dragon in a Weyr. Let’s start with greens.’

Jevikel had no idea, although it was obvious just from looking around they were the most numerous. He expected the Weyrbred lads would know.

Sure enough Jurrendon raised a hand. ‘Er, around thirty to forty percent?’

‘Forty percent’s probably about right for Benden at present. Ideally, it should be closer to fifty. “Swap halfway or sooner still.” You need more of them so you can send them up in shifts. How about blues? Anyone like to take a guess?’

Lukodan answered this time. ‘Around twenty-five.’

‘Again, that’s a good estimate, but thirty percent is the ideal. Obviously, in an operating Weyr, during a pass, the numbers will vary depending on casualties at any one time. Blues can sometimes fight a full Fall, if conditions are right. A good Wingsecond and his dragon watches out for any signs they’re tiring, as the ballad tells us. Now, what about browns?’

Jevikel reckoned he could work that out from the other figures and raised his hand. ‘From what I’ve seen here, I’d say ten percent.’

‘Close,’ D’gar said. ‘An accurate estimate for this Weyr. It should be nearer to fifteen. As the ballad tells us, browns are strong and steady flyers. They can also fight a full Fall, whatever the conditions. Does anyone want to take a stab at the number of bronzes?’

‘About the same as browns, maybe more,’ Lukodan said.

‘Around five percent,’ D’gar said, looking around at them all. ‘Benden’s percentages are skewed right now. There are too many bronzes and that’s been made worse by both Ramoth and Prideth clutching a lot more recently. What’s needed are more blues and certainly more greens, to even things up.’

‘Why?’ Buko asked. ‘I mean bronzes are the strongest and can flame more Thread, according to that ballad.’

‘Very true,’ D’gar agreed. ‘But a Wing needs optimum numbers to function at its best. Obviously you need browns or bronzes in the Wingleader and Wingsecond positions, with perhaps a couple more in each section. But the blues and greens pick up Thread the bigger dragons wouldn’t physically be able to get to in time, so we need more of those.’

‘Why do we need to know all this?’ Hortaimin said. ‘I mean, it’s not as if we’re Wingleaders.’

‘Some of you may be, in a few Turns time. But given the number of bronzes here at Benden, you might have to transfer to another Weyr to get that position. Unless a lot of the current Wingleaders retire from active duty or get killed.’

Jevikel felt a shudder go through the class. Even the new lads knew dragons were killed fighting Thread; they’d felt the shockwave of sadness and heard the keening during the last Fall, but they evidently considered the leaders to be invincible.

‘It’s rare, but it happens. We had a couple of Wingleaders die at Fort and the previous Weyrleader was killed in action. Ask anyone from any of the five Weyrs and you’ll hear the same. Wingseconds, too. Obviously, experience counts for a lot, but everyone’s luck runs out one day.’

He asked Kadin to play the ballad a second time, quizzing them on the meaning of each verse, before a break for klah and lunch. H’rek joined them, shaking water out of his hair and hanging his dripping wherhide on one of the wall hooks. Water had obviously found its way down his neck as the back of his shirt was darkened with it. He sat next to D’gar, talking softly as they ate. Jevikel noticed the looks they were getting from some of the candidates. He wanted to get up and say, ‘This is the Weyr. Things aren’t the same as at your hidebound Holds,’ but he didn’t. As Lukodan had said, they’d have to get over it.

‘I’m playing tonight in the rider’s dining hall,’ Kadin announced. ‘Sheltegan picked me and some of the other musicians to entertain them.’

‘Wish we could hear it,’ Kernam said. ‘Bit of singing and dancing is always good to get folk mingling.’

‘We’ll be performing in the weyrfolk’s hall in a few days. After next Fall.’

‘Good.’ Jevikel would miss his company, but he was glad Kadin was making new friends through his musical talent. If he didn’t Impress this time, at least he had a skill to fall back on. Jevikel had decided that he’d volunteer for beast handling duty, if it came to that. Kemi had said often enough they didn’t have enough folk who wanted to do the work and at least he knew something about it.

It had almost stopped raining by the time they went outside. Tiny windows of blue sky were visible between grey clouds. This time, a few more of H’rek’s clutchmates had volunteered. Jevikel was pleased to see T’rai among the five Weyrs riders and as he’d not ridden a green since that fateful day they’d arrived at the Weyr, he made his way over. As he did, he heard one of Hortaimin’s friends saying, ‘Bet he’ll end up with a green. His type mostly do, so I’ve heard.’ He ignored it. Hopefully none of them would Impress a dragon at all.

‘I’m going for the bronze,’ Hortaimin said. ‘Might as well see what it feels like to ride a proper dragon.’

‘Hey,’ he said to T’rai. ‘Would Hinarth mind taking me up? It would be nice to ride her under less stressful conditions.’

‘A pleasure,’ T’rai said. ‘She’s not a very wide dragon, I’m afraid. With your long legs it might feel a bit unsteady. Some of the taller riders who have greens use foot loops, but I didn’t bring any today.’

So that explained why he’d felt more at home on larger dragons. ‘I’ll cling on as best I can.’ He’d learned to grip with his knees when riding the runner beasts to and from their pasture back at Pinnacle.

Getting on board was easy and he pulled the waist and thigh straps extra tight. It didn’t feel too bad and was much closer to the ground than he’d been on Bitath or Toth.

T’rai jumped up in front and secured himself, then they were away; one of the first pairs to take off. Droplets of moisture dampened his face and hands as they flew through cloud, while Hinarth displayed the agility that had saved them before. She performed a move T’rai called a corkscrew; a dizzying plunge downward.

‘That’s how we chase a bundle of Thread down,’ T’rai shouted once Hinarth had levelled out again. ‘Small blues can just about manage it, but not with such tight turns.’ Hinarth then demonstrated how she could smoothly change direction to catch Thread someone else had missed, falling behind them, then skimmed close to a cliff just because she could. Jevikel was impressed by her manoeuvrability.

‘Hinarth’s calling Zurinth over, so we can show how a pair of greens can sear a clump too large for one.’

The next moment, Zurinth emerged from between, with Egevan sitting behind J’rud. He was grinning wildly and waved to Jevikel. It was fascinating to see how the two dragons matched each other’s moves, sometimes getting so close it seemed impossible their wings didn’t touch.

The two dragons returned together to the Weyr. Jevikel didn’t feel at all nauseous or dizzy as he had riding with T’garrin. He was glad he’d had the opportunity to reassess his opinion of smaller dragons.

V’vil’s Bitath had a large queue waiting for a turn on board. Toth had just taken off. No one was waiting to ride Herebeth. Jevikel thought that might be because people didn’t want to be seen as currying favour with the Weyrlingmaster. Well, he didn’t care.

D’gar leaned against his dragon’s flank, seemingly deep in thought. He had a similar expression as when riders were talking to their dragons.

Jevikel didn’t want to startle him. ‘Er, excuse me.’

D’gar looked up. ‘Oh. I was away then, thinking about the new training programme.’


‘Do you want Herebeth to show you what he can do?’


Herebeth crouched down considerately, making it easier to mount up, although he fancied he was getting better at that anyway.

‘You’ve ridden a brown before?’ D’gar settled himself between the forward neck ridges and started adjusting his riding straps.

‘Toth, last time and Bruganith. That’s my sister’s weyrmate’s dragon.’

‘Then you might have noticed even though dragons are the same colour, they can fly very differently.’

‘Well, Toth was demonstrating moves, whereas on Bruganith we were off for a day at Greystones and had my nephew on board, so he flew very smoothly.’

‘Herebeth and Toth are around the same size, but Toth has a longer wingspan. He’s from Loranth’s clutch, whereas Herebeth is one of Kadoth’s. She generally Hatched sturdy, powerful dragons.’

Jevikel hadn’t even thought about that aspect of dragon breeding before. ‘I suppose it makes a difference which bronze sires the clutch as well?’

‘That’s right. Are your straps tight?’


‘Let’s go, then.’ He gave the signal, then Herebeth sprang into the air. His ascent seemed more like Bitath’s than Toth’s and nothing at all like Hinarth’s rapid launch. By the time they reached the height of the Bowl, the power of his ascent had overcome his slower getaway, much as he and Kadin had seen when he chased Rioth a sevenday or so ago. He climbed ever higher; higher than the other dragons had done during their demonstrations. The jagged peaks of the Benden mountain range stretched in all directions, some lit by patches of sunlight, others veiled in misty rain.

‘Ready?’ D’gar shouted.

‘Yes.’ Jevikel hung on tighter as Herebeth went into a steep dive. He could hear nothing but the wind rushing past his ears. It felt as fast as what he’d experienced on Bitath and the recovery was much the same. Next came dodges and feints. He noticed Herebeth turned quicker to his right and wondered if that was as a result of the healed wing damage he’d spotted before. But it was only marginal, so probably didn’t make a huge difference when he was fighting Thread.

Eventually he flew level again. They were a long way from the Weyr. Instead of flying straight back, or going between, the dragon landed gently on a small plateau.

‘Is everything all right?’ Jevikel asked. ‘Has Herebeth hurt himself?’

‘No, he’s fine.’ D’gar loosened the straps so he could turn to face Jevikel. ‘But I wanted to speak to you away from the Weyr. Are there any problems with the newer candidates?’

How would he know that? ‘Er, no, not really. Why? Has someone said there are?’

‘No. Folk rarely do. They think they can deal with it on their own, until it gets to the stage they can’t. I notice things. So does Herebeth.’

He fell silent, giving Jevikel the opportunity to speak. He wasn’t sure what to say. ‘Some of them are… a bit Holdbred in their attitudes. But so were a couple of of the lads who arrived earlier and they’ve got used to how things are at the Weyr.’ That wasn’t giving away too much.

‘Well, if they don’t, I’d like to know about it. Don’t worry, they won’t get barred from standing or anything. We need all the candidates we have. But I can certainly have a word with them. I don’t want a repeat of what happened in Southern.’

Surely that was different? They’d been plotting to overthrow a Weyrleader in Southern. This was minor stuff. ‘Thanks, but I reckon it’ll sort itself out.’

D’gar nodded. ‘Let’s hope it does. But if not, come and talk to me. Now, let’s get back to the Weyr.’

Herebeth sideslipped off the flat ground. D’gar counted down and they went between, emerging just above the rim of the Bowl and spiralling toward the barracks. Most of the dragons were back now, the candidates swapping their rides.

No sooner had Jevikel dismounted, thanking Herebeth, than D’gar beckoned over some of the candidates who were standing indecisively. ‘Anyone else want to try Herebeth?’

A couple of them went over. Jevikel recognised Faisagai from Half Circle and one of the Bitrans; a quiet lad. Turmevon, wasn’t it? He’d been subject to some teasing from Hortaimin and his gang, just because he didn’t say much and kept himself to himself. Perhaps he came from a small place like Pinnacle and was simply overwhelmed by the number of folk at the Weyr?

‘You going to ride any others?’ Kadin appeared at his side. ‘I’ve been on Zurinth and Jekkoth today. Did you know Zurinth is the best at carrying furniture?’

‘Furniture? Why?’

‘J’rud used to get paid to move stuff from one weyr to another, because she’s so careful. He’s made a few marks doing it, as well.’

It never ceased to amaze all the different ways riders and weyrfolk made themselves extra marks to spend at Gathers. Even the waste food from the kitchens and dung from the herdbeasts was turned into compost, some of which was used on the Weyr’s vegetable gardens, the rest sold or traded for luxury items that weren’t part of the tithe. ‘Well I never.’ Even as he said it, he recognised one of Bavi’s favourite figures of speech.

‘Once we’re dismissed, I need to get ready.’

‘Oh yes. Big night tonight.’

‘I’m really looking forward to it. Playing in a group’s amazing.’

‘Wish I could be there.’

‘Well, if you hang around outside the main dining hall, you might hear some of it. You could even slip inside. Everyone’ll be watching us, so I don’t suppose anyone will even notice you.’

‘I might do that.’

Kadin ate with them all. ‘We’re not due to start until they’ve finished their meal, too.’ He had the guitar in a battered case beside him, his pipes hanging from a cord tied around the neck.


‘Sure. A bit scared, but once I’m playing, that goes away.’

‘Good luck, then.’ He gave Kadin a kiss. Why shouldn’t he? Showing affection to a partner wasn’t an issue at the Weyr. It was the hidebound idiots who thought it was who were the problem.

Having finished their klah, the candidates went to sit outside for a while; the usual crowd of Weyrbred and those searched from the southern Holds, although a couple from Benden Hold had joined them recently.

‘That Lemos bunch are idiots,’ said Perrigan. ‘To be Searched is an honour. If they don’t like it here, why stay?’

‘Losing face,’ Egevan said. ‘If they don’t Impress - which I hope some don’t - that’s different, but if they go home before the Hatching it’d be difficult to explain.’

‘This is nothing like Benden Hold,’ Perrigan went on. ‘But I didn’t expect it to be.’

‘Not much like Half Circle either,’ Faisagai put in. ‘But that’s a good thing, far as I’m concerned. I miss the sea, though.’

There were murmurs of agreement from the Bayhead and Greystones lads. ‘I could always hear the waves at night,’ said Wybrald. ‘It was sort of soothing. And the smell of the sea…’

‘Freshly caught snapper,’ added Shebil. ‘Fried, along with salty vegetables gathered from the cliffs.’

‘We’ll be able to fly back, for visits.’ Vel said.

‘Not on your own dragons, for a while.’ Lukodan fished a set of dice from his pocket. ‘But riders are always going to the coast for days out. Dragons love the sea. You can just hitch a lift with one of them. Now, anyone want a game?’

Nights were noticeably drawing in now as summer came towards its end. Glowbaskets provided enough light to see the way back to the various entrances and Timor, high in the sky, made the lake water shine like silver.

They played dice for a while, until it was no longer possible to see the marks on each face. Jevikel heard the sound of musicians tuning their instruments.

‘I’m going to listen to Kadin play, even if I’m not allowed in.’

‘Just sneak in a little way and don’t make yourself too obvious.’ Lukodan gathered up the dice. ‘I’ll wait until they play in our hall. Least we can get comfortable seats and klah.’

He left them talking in the gathering darkness. No one liked to go inside too early and it was still warm. There were quite a few riders making their way into the dining hall so he walked a little further on, trying not to seem conspicuous. In the mean time, he watched as couples strolled together in the fading light and dragons glided down from weyrs. Then he spotted something that wasn’t either of those. Dark figures, further away from the various entrances to the Lower Caverns. There was something about the gathering that looked slightly… furtive. He sensed something was going on, out there in the darkness.

He began to walk that way. No one noticed him. As he drew closer, he recognised faces. Hortaimin and his little gang; a couple of the others from Lemos and two from Bitra. They were surrounding someone, pushing him. It was obvious they were trying to provoke a fight.

There wasn’t time to go back and fetch the others. Jevikel stepped forward and with as much authority as he could put into his voice, he spoke. ‘What’s going on here?’

‘None of your business.’ Hortaimin said.

The circle broke apart slightly, revealing Turmevon in the centre. He looked distressed, although not physically hurt.

‘We’re all candidates. We should be helping each other, not picking on people.’ Jevikel knew this probably wasn’t going to stop at words. He considered how best to fend them off. He couldn’t rely on Turmevon giving any help; presumably they’d gone for him because he wasn’t the type to fight back.

Turmevon found his voice. ‘Don’t worry. I’m all right. No one’s hurt me.’

‘Yet. Come on back with me to the others.’ He held out his hand.

When Turmevon tried to move, one of the larger Bitrans blocked his way and shoved him back.

Jevikel felt his own anger kindling. ‘You really think they’re going to let you on the Sands if you make trouble?’ he said. Maybe they still had enough sense to realise that?

‘They have to find out who did it first. Turmevon isn’t going to say anything, are you?’ Hortaimin turned to the frightened lad. ‘Are you going to go running to D’gar with tales?’ he asked Jevikel.

‘If that’s what it takes to stop you, yes. Or we could try another way first.’ Unconsciously, his hands were making fists.

Hortaimin’s expression hardened. ‘Go on, then.’

He knew it was wrong; that dragonriders didn’t fight and candidates shouldn’t. But what alternative did he have? Even D’gar had fought, when there was no other alternative. He shouldn’t be the one to hit first, either, but when outnumbered it was best to take the offensive. He moved forward, feinting to the left, then hitting Hortaimin squarely on the side of his jaw.

He hadn’t been expecting that and staggered back. One of the others caught him before he fell to the ground, while another threw himself into the fight. He got in one blow, which glanced off Jevikel’s cheek. Then Jevikel caught him a good one and he stumbled back too. The big Bitran had slipped behind him and got an arm around his throat. Jevikel got his teeth around the fleshy part and bit hard. The lad cried out in pain and released his grip slightly. Jevikel turned and elbowed him in the face. He heard the sound of a nose breaking and felt the spatter of blood, readying himself for another attack.

It never came. Instead, a dark shadow blotted out the moon as a dragon landed close by. Two riders jumped down and ran over.

‘Hold it right there!’ Jevikel recognised the voice as D’gar’s. He felt suddenly sick.

Hortaimin had recovered himself. He pointed at Jevikel. ‘He started it all. Me and my friends were just going for a stroll and he attacked us.’ His cronies nodded support, apart from the one who was trying to stem the bleeding from his nose.

‘That’s not true.’ Turmevon was quiet as ever, but he sounded determined. ‘They were bullying me and Jevikel asked them to stop.’

D’gar looked at them all. H’rek stood next to him. They must have been on their way to the concert. ‘Fighting’s a serious offence in the Weyr.’

Hortaimin looked smug.

D’gar continued, focusing on Hortaimin. ‘But so is bullying. I’ve seen a few Hatchings in my time and dragons don’t tend to go for bullies. You might want to think about that.’

Meanwhile, H’rek examined the lad with the broken nose. ‘You should go to the infirmary and get that seen to.’

‘I want to see you all in my office before breakfast tomorrow. I’m not going to tolerate this kind of behaviour.’ D’gar’s voice was stern.

Jevikel looked at the ground, feeling ashamed. He was no better than his father for acting like that. If D’gar and H’rek hadn’t arrived, he might have done some real damage. Maybe he didn’t deserve a dragon?

‘It was their fault,’ Turmevon said.

‘We’ll discuss the why’s and wherefore’s tomorrow. Now, I suggest a couple of you help your friend to the infirmary and the rest go back to your sleeping rooms. And if there’s any more trouble, then be sure I’ll hear about it.’ He glared at them all for a few moments. Jevikel was reminded of the scary Wingleader he’d first encountered. He was in trouble, that was for sure.

D’gar and H’rek stood firm as one group set off toward the infirmary and the others began to disperse.

‘Come on,’ Jevikel said to Turmevon. ‘We’d best get back.’

‘Sorry,’ he muttered, as they kept a good distance behind the others.

‘Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault.’ Now it was over, Jevikel was shaking. As they passed the entrance to the dining hall, he heard the merry strains of a dance tune. He wouldn’t get to hear Kadin play, either. The evening was ruined. Perhaps his hopes of becoming a dragonrider were, as well?

©1967-2022 Ann McCaffrey, Todd McCaffrey, Gigi McCaffrey; All Rights Reserved; Copyright © 2022 Mawgrim; All Rights Reserved.
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New chapters will be posted each Thursday.

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.  Original content provided by author of this FanFiction story without monetary compensation.

Story Discussion Topic

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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