A/N: Hi, I'm a big fan of the Dragonriders of Pern series and I like to dink around with stories, so here are some of my twists and embellishments on the series. No real idea for overlapping with the series, just a stands-on-its-own story. Comments/reviews appreciated. Thanks, broncoriderco, for your helpful review!
A Hatching was imminent.
The sky over Pern's holds was thick with dragons on Search for new candidates to Impress the hatchlings. Ruatha Hold was favored with the presence of F'nor on brown Canth, the second in command to Benden Weyr.
A blast of cold air washed over Quira as the four dragons burst out of between. She was standing atop a turret, breaking from her duties to watch the clouds.
Quira loved clouds. Big fluffy clouds, small wispy clouds, mountains of clouds, black threatening clouds that meant wonderfully cooling rain. She often imagined she was a dragon and could soar at will through the mounds of puffy white.
The blast of cold air jarred Quira back from her reverie with an involuntary start. A huge brown dragon was heading right for her! Her fear evaporated, replaced with admiration for his size, vibrant brown color and grace. She could swear his large multi-faceted eye watched her as he passed quite close over her head to land in the Hold courtyard.
Quira scrambled down from the turret and ran back to the kitchen. If the head cook missed her, her father would hear… and that would not be pleasant. She snuck in through the trap door and pretended to be absorbed in dishwashing.
F'nor leapt lightly from Canth's back, looking around at the familiar buildings of Ruatha Hold. How many Turns had it been since he and F'lar Searched Lessa out here? His flashback was interrupted by the arrival of Jaxom, the Lord Holder, noticeably unaccompanied by the Lady Sharra, lately delivered of a healthy baby boy, her first and Jaxom's heir apparent.
"F'nor! Welcome, brown rider!" Jaxom gripped F'nor's forearm in the traditional grasp of dragonriders.
"Good morning, J'xom," F'nor grinned, using the honorific contraction as a jest. Jaxom's smile widened and he led F'nor towards the Great Hall. F'nor politely inquired after Lady Sharra's health and the health of the babe as they walked.
"Oh, healthy as a runnerbeast and as roars like a dragon," Jaxom said proudly. There was an answering, prideful call from Ruth's weyr at the other end of the square. F'nor let out a laugh; "Seems like Ruth's just as proud."
"You should see him brood over the babe," Jaxom said with a grin, "just like a protective wherry hen." They laughed and entered the Hall.
"Lord Lytol," F'nor called to the nearby graying gentleman who was giving directions to Anira, the headwoman, "I thought you were in the Southern Holds."
The man's face remained impassive. "I see you are just as loud as ever, young F'nor," replied Lytol by way of greeting. F'nor grinned and Jaxom roared with laughter. "Lytol's back to supervise for a bit before my son was born. Oh, what fun we're going to have at this Gather!" Jaxom said gaily.
"A Gather?" F'nor inquired, surprised. He raised his eyebrows at Jaxom's shocked look.
"You mean you haven't heard about the Gather going on two days from now?" Jaxom was incredulous now.
Fnor shrugged, "This is the first I've heard."
"Hmm… I instructed word to be sent by fire-lizard. Ruth's been out of sorts a bit lately; no, no," he started, seeing F'nor's concern, "just an overly strong bout of dragon-cold. He's been sleeping a lot lately."
"Well, we never got it, but I'll be sure to have Canth relay the message to Ramoth and Mnementh straightaway," came F'nor's reply. His eyes temporarily unfocused as he mentally relayed the request to Canth.
"Thanks," Jaxom said and called for some klah and fresh redfruits from the Southern Continent. Lytol had brought more than enough for the Gather celebration and more would be sure to come.
Quira heard the call and knew that this was her chance. Either she would go with the brown rider, or be almost beaten to death by her father for revealing herself. She knew Lord Jaxom didn't even know his steward, Brand had a daughter...
Jaxom turned back to F'nor. "You're on Search?" he asked, still grinning.
F'nor smiled to himself; would nothing wipe that grin from Jaxom's face? "Not officially, though Ramoth's latest clutch will hatch within the next day or two. Canth felt that we should stop here, even though several others indicated nobody of interest."
"If anyone has a nose for potential candidates, it's Canth." Jaxom glanced out the large, open window at the end of the hall for a glimpse of Canth's huge bulk sunning himself on a ledge.
F'nor followed his gaze, fondly gazing at his lifepartner. Canth was sound asleep and unaware of the scrutiny.
"You're more than welcome to anyone you find here, F'nor," Jaxom said, indicating the hold with a sweep of his hand. "No need to tell Fort Weyr, eh?" he said, winking.
As the tray of fruit and klah was assembled, a drudge picked it up to take it to the table where the dragonrider, and Lord were chatting. Quira elbowed the drudge and, before the cook could say anything, she was striding with long legs out into the Great Hall... for the first time in her life. Quira never stood tall or used her long legs... her father forbade her. Too late, she noticed him standing right outside the door to the kitchen, fresh from inspecting the stables, as she passed through on her way to the table. He froze for a second, not believing his eyes, then instantly let fly at her with the riding crop he had carried with him. Here it comes, Quira thought as the riding crop whistled through the air.
F'nor inclined his head and looked around. A drudge walked in with the tray of fruit and pitcher of klah. Hmm... a drudge that walks? No scurrying or hunching? As soon as he noticed, a man flew at the girl, whipping her across the shoulders with a riding crop and nearly toppling her to the ground.
Jaxom noticed the commotion and rose to his feet in an instant. The girl had had the sense of mind to thrust the tray to a nearby table before she was knocked off balance by a second blow from her much larger assailant. She was so thin, it was a miracle she didn't succumb after the first two hits. F'nor restrained the man as he raised his arm for a fifth blow to the shocked and bleeding girl at his feet. Anira helped the girl off the floor and whisked her away, out of reach of the crazed man still straining to reach her.
"BRAND!" Jaxom roared.
The man paled and F'nor relaxed his hold, allowing the man's arms to be lowered limply to his sides. Brand was breathing heavily and his eyes kept darting from his Lord to the terrified drudge pressed against a pillar. Blood was beginning to drip down her arm and onto the floor. Anira hastily called for clean bandages and some numbweed.
Jaxom stood for a moment, schooling his facial expression and slowing his breathing. The large vein popping out of his forehead slowly began to recede back under his skin. What had gotten into the man? Brand, his steward, was usually such a docile and obliging fellow, doing everything and anything in his power to make his Lord and Lady comfortable and see that the Hold ran smoothly. Lytol had been more accustomed to visiting Master Robinton in the Southern Cove Hold with his academia, so Brand had risen from a lower steward position to be Jaxom's second in command - when Lytol was out, of course.
"What has gotten into you, man?" Jaxom fumed, face demanding explaination for the uncalled for abuse.
Brand looked at his Lord, glanced at the druge who was now somewhat more possessed of herself, and opened his mouth...