Dragon Rising
A fanfiction by Plikkit based on the novels by Anne McCaffrey.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the people, places, or concepts of Pern. Those are solely credited to Anne McCaffrey, in all her wonderful talent.
---Chapter I----
"Hey! You there, girl!"
Saya froze, if awkwardly, for the armful of firewood she was clasping was wedged firmly against her chest and inhibited some stances. She was aware of the misplaced wisps of auburn hair falling over her face as she grimaced and scanned the main hall of Fort Hold, looking for the voice's source.
To her utter shock, it was a dragonrider who addressed her. He was tall and muscled, dressed in the warm and durable wherhide clothing meant for riding a-dragonback. He had stood up rather quickly, it seemed, from a meal with several of his fellows, for dark wine stained his cuff where he had knocked over his glass. He advanced a few steps toward her, and Saya could no longer believe that it had not been she to whom he had called.
"What's your name? Are you a woman of this Hold?"
Saya carefully set down the wood on the worn stones of the main hall floor, mentally re-gathering scattered dignity as she did so. Straightening, she brushed her rampant locks behind her shoulders and replied, "My name is Saya. I'm to be a woman of Fort Hold in six months' time."
"Shells, are you but a fosterling?" The man strode to her and, with a complete disregard for her discomfiture or their very recent introduction, cupped her chin. Saya stiffened at his bold touch, but did not move.
"How old are you, Saya?"
"Sixteen Turns this summer, Sir," she answered, acutely aware of the blush she could no longer control creeping its way across her cheeks.
"Well, then." The dragonman closed his eyes briefly, as if in painful contemplation. "My Lagrarth informs me that you have substantial Power in you. Yes, you are a stunning find."
Somewhat resenting this indirect comparison to a material object, Saya finally pulled back from the dragonrider's grasp.
"Shards, where are my manners?" he suddenly announced, bringing a palm to his forehead. "Forgive me. I am S'del, brown Lagrarth's rider, here on Search for Fort Weyr. Tell me, Saya...how did you come to be here at Fort Hold?"
By this point, Saya felt a strange mixture of emotions welling in her. There was not a human being on Pern who had not wistfully sun-dreamed of being chosen on Search, but now she felt that possibility being poisoned by a touch of reluctance and fear. She had been a generally quiet girl, having been raised by a very demure fostermother. However, much as she liked her life and friendships with the other fosterlings at Fort Hold, she had been feeling a more outgoing spirit in her as of late. So, she had thrown herself into her duties to lessen the time until her introduction as a full woman of the Hold. To have that goal suddenly threatened was, well...somewhat disappointing.
She shook her head. What was she thinking? Life at a Weyr, if she indeed managed to stand successfully, would be a great deal more exciting. But also much more dangerous and mysterious...her head whirled with the sudden onslaught of thoughts toward a future she had never before considered. Not to mention, she scolded herself, she was jumping to conclusions on S'del intent. She had no idea what "Power" was, nor a great deal of knowledge about dragonkind.
"My parents are Seaholders in Nerat. They sent me here to be fostered, Sir; I've been here about four Turns." She unconsciously fingered the ends of her shoulder-length hair.
"Indeed?" S'del glanced back at his fellow dragonriders, who were observing their conference while chewing thoughtfully. Saya abruptly realized that S'del still held an empty wine glass.
"Let me get you and your companions some more wine..." she said, the serving courtesies drilled into her brain.
He cut her off. "Nonsense. I'm sure we've already had enough of Fort Hold's excellent drink." He paused. "Saya, would you object to walking with me for a time?"
"N-no, not at all," she replied, feeling a nervousness in her that she could not quell. Self-conscious, she glanced down at her simple blouse and skirt, slightly dusty from the frenzied baking she had taken part in when it was learned that dragonriders were coming on Search. Never would she have dreamed...
But, it was not in her nature to fuss over appearances overly much, so she shrugged internally and followed S'del out the main double doors, leaving the wood in a pile by the hearth.
S'del led her through the masses of stone pilings surrounding Fort Hold, absently gazing at the mountains rising impressively all around. Saya observed the glazed look in his eye and decided that he must be in communication with his dragon.
"Saya, you are a young woman with great potential." He turned to look at her, hazel eyes gleaming in a young and angular face. "Would you object to being my Candidate for Search?"
Saya stopped in her tracks, still surprised no matter how much she had anticipated this. He was so concise, at least.
"I don't know how you can perceive such potential in people, S'del," she said carefully. Then, she couldn't help but raise on eyebrow. "Unless it is one of your dragon's many capabilities?"
He shot her a look. "Intelligent, too?"
Saya straightened her shoulders. "Merana never neglected my education," she said, naming her Foster mother.
Suddenly the air was full of a rushing sound, one that Saya had heard before only from a distance. She and S'del both looked up, and Saya's vision was slightly obscured by her hair, which appeared to be rising up to greet a massive, airborne bulk which blotted out the sun until it backwinged and landed gracefully in a clearing nearby, very clearly a dragon. And a brown one, no less, folding his wings and turning his wedge-shaped head to greet them, eyes whirling a vivid blue.
"Lagrarth senses, I think, more of you than even you may," S'del said quietly. "There is a Queen egg hardening on Fort's sands. What girl does not harbor the desire to be a Weyrwoman?"
"Your confidence is...flattering, Sir," Saya said, finally letting her brown gaze meet with Lagrarth's azure one. She saw there an intellect, a magnificence and a grace, which she admired, and, undeniably, shamelessly...coveted.
What did she have to lose? If rejected, she could return to Fort Weyr and resume duties as a woman there. She was being given a chance at something more beautiful than she could yet concieve, and she wasn't fool enough to spurn it.
"I'll come," she said to S'del, dragging her eyes away from the brown dragon. "What do I need?"
"Nothing but your spirit," S'del assured her. Lagrarth honored her with a triumphant bugle.
Saya arrived at Fort Weyr a great deal more informed than she had been upon leaving the Hold. She had learned that not only was there a Queen egg in the Fort Hatching Grounds, but thirty-seven mottled ones, and fifty-two other Candidates competing for each of them. Fort's senior Queen, Fylanth, had been flown by Gidrith, the bronze of the current Weyrleader, Q'mil. It had been a joyous occasion, the end of the reign of the well-disliked Weyrleader R'fut, and this clutch marked the beginning of a newly led generation of dragonriders.
Saya recalled a rumor that had been circulating in Fort Hold, which she had disregarded until now. It was common knowledge that both gold and green dragons were female, but it was thought that women only Impressed to the golds. A story carried by traders from Ista Weyr told of a girl who had become rider to a fighting green dragon, an incident greeted by immense shock.
"Oh, certainly, girls can Impress greens," S'del replied to her query as they circled above the Weyr bowl. He then grinned. "But you'll be vying for the queen."
Once again unnerved by S'del's confidence, Saya peered down over Lagrarth's shoulder at the bowl. Dragons, blue, green, brown, and bronze, perched on ledges outside the many weyr entrances dotting the smooth bowl sides, many sunning on the fire-heights. She observed with scarcely masked fascination as a bronze dragon swooped down upon a massive herd of wherries at the base of the mountain and dispatched one fowl with a deft grasp of a talon.
The watchdragon bugled a query which Lagrarth answered smartly before backwinging to land on the ledge outside S'del weyr. The dragonriders that had accompanied him to Fort Hold scattered to their own weyrs.
"Hatching is due any day now," S'del explained as they dismounted and Saya padded curiously into the weyr. There was a cot, a bathing room, and a shallow dip in the stone that she presumed was his dragon's bed, all encompassed by smooth stone walls. It all looked quite accommodating, and some pleasure warmed up her chilled flesh.
She shuddered internally at the memory of her first ride between. It had been startling, and the experience almost seemed to permeate to her very bones. But it wasn't so intimidating that she could not endure on a dragon of her own.
She folded her arms and nibbled her lower lip, trying not to let her expectations rise too high. From what S'del had told her, five other girls were also hopeful. She could contain her excitement for now, even when being pushed at on all sides by the prospects of becoming a dragonrider.
"Feel free to wander a bit in the Lower Caverns, explore, and meet people," S'del told her cheerfully. "If Hatching begins, and you can't figure it out on your own, I'll send Ferrsh here to find you." Saya saw a brown fire-lizard (Lagrarth in miniature) alight on the rider's shoulder, and she smiled.
"Thank you," she said sincerely. "But...er...how do I get down?"
"Oh!" S'del exclaimed, and he chuckled. "Of course. Sorry. Let me ask Lagrarth to send for a weyrling to bring you down."
He looked distant for a moment as he spoke to his dragon, who rumbled as he settled himself in his bowl.
"F'bran's on his way up," S'del said to Saya a moment later. "Go and stand out on that ledge."
Saya did so. A gentle breeze funneled down the Weyr bowl to pick at her clothing; she stood still at the edge, a tense being brimming with anticipation the likes of which she had never experienced.
Saya was stunned from her reverie a moment later as a young bronze dragon launched himself from the weyrling caverns and winged his way purposefully toward her.
Her eyes were momentarily filled with gleaming bronze hide as the beast leveled itself with the ledge, then landed, a bit less gracefully, Saya saw with amusement, than the mature Lagrarth. The dragon found footing and curved its neck around to regard her with whirling, opalescent eyes.
"Caprioth says that he approves of you," said a young voice from atop the dragon's neck. Perched there was a young man, not very many Turns her senior, looking quite chipper.
With gymnastic ability that astonished her, he half-leapt, half-slid down his dragon's shoulder and landed on both feet for about a second before he crashed to his knees.
Saya smothered a grin underneath a palm, immediately feeling comfortable with the young man. He had tousled, red-orange hair, and a pale complexion that stood out among many of his fellow riders. Rather tall and lanky, the wherhide tunic was a tad too short for him and thus gave him the appearance of wearing clothes a few sizes too small.
He smiled at her, his green eyes wrinkling at the corners. "I just made myself look like a complete dimglow with that, didn't I?" he asked, good-naturedly rustling his hair as he got up. "Sorry. My name's F'bran, rider of bronze Caprioth who's scolding me as we speak. What's your name, m'lady, and where would you like to be taken?"
Saya chuckled at his ridiculous titling of her. "My name's Saya. Just...take me where there's some space!"
F'bran laughed, and mounted astride his dragon, offering a hand to help Saya up. She ignored it and vaulted up behind him with her own strength, her position just slightly unsteady before she righted it between the neck ridges.
"Caprioth approves of me, you said? As what?" The bronze spread his wings and beat into the air, only to begin a circling descent down to the Lower Cavern entrances.
"Why, as a queen Candidate, of course, what else? Where did you say you've come from?" F'bran asked, curiosity tingeing his voice.
"Fort Hold."
"Ah. I came from a minor hold in Telgar. I Impressed at Fylanth's last Hatching," F'bran could not help but say with some pride as he patted Caprioth's neck affectionately. "A year ago, under R'fut."
Saya made a mental decision to bury herself in Fort records and learn the Weyr's history before she made a complete idiot of herself.
"I'd like to meet the other Candidates," she voiced tentatively as Caprioth continued descending leisurely.
"A very good idea," F'bran agreed. "Hatching may not happen for a sevenday, so you should probably make friends."
"Haven't I already started?" Saya couldn't help but ask on an impulse that surprised her.
F'bran waited until Caprioth landed at the base of the bowl to reply. "Of course you have," he said, taking her hand and smiling again as they dismounted. "Let me show you around."
Saya bowed to Caprioth. "Thank you for taking me." The dragon's eyes seemed to gleam with rainbows. Then, he took off without his rider, doubtless to go sun on some ledge as the two toured part of Fort Weyr.
"Now," F'bran began as the two turned from watching the beast's flight. Then, the bronze rider collided fantastically with a woman carrying two pitchers of water.
Saya yelped as the icy liquid speckled onto her unsuspecting face, but that shock quickly dissolved into laughter as F'bran, soaked and ten different shades of red, apologized profusely to the fuming lady.
"However you Impressed a bronze, I'll never know," the lady said angrily, bending to collected pottery fragments. Saya hastened to help, but gaped at the lady as the echo following her remark died.
F'bran grinned at the Candidate's shocked expression. "She says that all the time. It actually means, 'You're an incurable klutz, F'bran.'"
Though she privately agreed, Saya responded only with a chuckle as she handed the pieces to the annoyed woman and watched her move on.
"C'mon. We'll go to the Candidates' rooms and get some towels." The front of F'bran's tunic and pants were dark with moisture.
As we walked, F'bran explained that the Candidates lived together in a set of rooms until Hatching occurred, at which point those who had Impressed were moved to the weyrling caverns. Candidates also dined together, although Q'mil didn't believe in the practice of introducing the younglings to the eggs prior to Hatching. They would be clueless, but they would be together.
They passed the Hatching Ground on their way. Saya gawped at the clustered thirty-seven eggs, surrounding the single shining Queen egg. The brilliantly golden Fylanth was curled protectively around her clutch, and she favored Saya and F'bran with a friendly-enough glance of acknowledgment.
"I wonder what Fylanth thinks of me..." Saya murmured.
"Who knows? It's her daughter's judgment you'll want to sway," F'bran answered pensively.
Saya gazed at the Queen egg broodingly, feeling a strange rush of emotions surge through her, although she couldn't pinpoint any specifically. Seeing those eggs simply produced an avalanche of innate response that she couldn't control, and therefore slightly feared.
F'bran looked at her knowingly. "Overwhelming, isn't it?"
Saya nodded, her mouth suddenly dry.
"You'll be fine." His reassurance was comforting, but he unsettled her with his next statement. "I feel that you're destined for something great, Saya."
"You feel?" Saya couldn't help but shoot back, one hand on her roiling stomach.
F'bran suddenly looked nervous, repentant. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. Don't listen to my prattling," he said quickly. Fortunately, they came upon the Candidates' set of rooms at that moment, branching off a hallway that had quick access to the Hatching Grounds.
They entered and were instantly greeted by a somber looking man, with large bags underneath watery blue eyes.
"I'm Y'hen, Talth's rider. Candidate master here at Fort. Bronze rider, you may go."
F'bran looked stunned. "I was just showing her--"
"She has already had a start on the other Candidates, getting assistance from a dragonrider." Y'hen eyed F'bran. "Even just a weyrling. Leave, please, so she may be introduced."
F'bran obeyed reluctantly, bidding Saya goodbye as he turned and strode out of the corridor.
"Candidates!" Y'hen suddenly roared. Saya was used enough to Hold life not to jump, but she did become tense as doors were thrown open and young people of ages ranging from her own age to twenty Turns came pouring out upon the Candidate master's call.