Harper's Hope

The Second Story in the Harper's Time Series

Author's Note

This story can be read as a sequel to Harper's Folly, as it is in the same storyline. It is, however, essentially a standalone, and is much longer, and more all-encompassing than Harpers's Folly. I would recommend reading Harper's Folly, it will help you with the relationships in this story, though it's not absolutely required.

Should have any corrections or complaints, please politely and respectfully inform me and I'll see what I can do about it. Also, if you're reading this story, please review! Obviously we all love praise, but I also love constructive criticism. Honestly, all you have to do to keep my posting is to submit a review saying "I'm reading!" just so that I know that you're out there. After all, who wants to bother posting chapters on a deadline if no one is reading?

Originally, I had written out a whole summary here of what the basic plot was in this story. It occurs to me that you really ought to just dive in and read it for yourself without further preamble. So I'll leave you to it.

Enjoy.

H. S. Shore

And if the truth is never known

I promise I will take you home

- Menolly's Song for a Loved One

(Harper's Folly)

Chapter One: Live for My Living, or Else I Must Die

Menolly couldn't breathe for sobbing. She lay in her bed at the Harper Hall, writhing pitifully back and forth, entirely asleep, lost in her dreams. Although her queen, Beauty, and her nine other firelizards lay around her, these were no firelizard fantasies that she experienced, but her own vividly passionate nightmares. She couldn't escape the images that kept running through her mind, images of the beaches of Cove Hold, of the mysterious AIVAS, and then of herself, as a girl, running from thread on the beaches of her cave between Half-Circle and Nerat.

The firelizards began to wake, as Menolly's sobs grew more desperate and sustained. Beauty, creeling with concern, rose into the air and hovered above Menolly's head, beating her wings and agitation as she tried to determine the cause of her owner's distress. Soon, all of the firelizards were airborne, sweeping around Menolly's head with wild cries of fear and distraction.

"Menolly?" Sebell came rushing into the room, trying to make himself heard over the raucous calls of the firelizards. "Menolly? Wake up, love, you're having a nightmare. Menolly…Menolly!" Bending over her, he took her by the shoulders and shook her, gently and yet frantically, ducking the wheeling firelizards as he did so. "Wake up, please…please, wake up…"

Sebell couldn't help being frightened by the passion of Menolly's cries. This was the third time she'd been disturbed like this, and she had subsequently woken up the entire hall three times. Looking over his shoulder, Sebell was relieved to see that no one had yet intruded on his room. It wouldn't be long now before half of the harpers in the place would be along to complain at being disturbed yet again, and he was too worried about his wife to be prepared to deal with their whining.

Then, as suddenly as it had started, Menolly's nightmare seemed to end. She quieted, and her body stopped its agitated gyrations, so that she lay still, on her stomach, one arm draped over the side of the bed in exhaustion. Beauty, Rocky, Diver, Poll, Uncle, and then the others slowly settled on to the window ledge, all in a judicial looking row, watching Menolly with concerned chirpings.

"I'm sorry," she was whispering, her eyes still tightly shut. She sat up on the bed, turning her torso towards Sebell, but refusing to open her eyes, as if afraid of his expression. Sebell reached down, and tilted her chin up so that she was facing him directly. He kissed her forehead, and Menolly finally returned his gaze. "I'm sorry, I…I didn't mean to do it again."

"The firelizards?" Sebell asked, understandingly. Menolly nodded. "It's strange," he said, frowning to himself as he glanced around the room for Kimi, his own queen. "Kimi doesn't seem at all bothered by whatever's troubling your fair. I can't figure it out. Why yours, and yet not a single other firelizard in the hall?"

Menolly shook her head, and held up her hands in a gesture of confusion. "I don't know," she murmured, with a sigh. "I don't know anything, I…it doesn't make sense. I'd make it make sense if I could, but I can't, I just…"

Sebell pressed her down against the pillows again, holding up a finger to his lips. "Never mind, love," he insisted, kissing her to forestall her protestations. "It doesn't matter right now. I'm going to the Weyr in the morning, I'll ask them if they know anything about these sudden firelizard agitations. Maybe it isn't just yours, maybe some of those at Fort, or even at Benden, have been experiencing the same thing." He recalled that when Menolly had been a girl, new at the Hall, her firelizards had been the first to proclaim the return of F'nor from the Red Star. It was very possible that this time, something similarly awful was happening, something that he, as the Masterharper of Pern, should know.

Sebell gave her hand a final, comforting squeeze, and then, glancing towards the door, realized that he'd best get back to his work. He felt like he never slept anymore, and briefly, he wondered if his recent slate of long absences from both the hall and from his own bed were keeping his wife from sleep. She wouldn't want to tell him, if that was the case, and yet it would very easily explain her nightmares and agitation.

"I'll see you in the morning," he whispered, as he closed the door behind him. "Try to sleep, Menolly. Just try." He left her, then, promising himself even as he did so that he'd return before the morning, so that he could be there when she awoke.

Menolly watched him go, and, as soon as he closed the door, expelled the breath that she had been holding. Beauty let out a sharp sort of croon, echoing Menolly's combination of distress and relief. Then, the firelizard queen flew down to settle herself on Menolly's chest, and the harper welcomed the contact. She wrapped her arms around Beauty's warm body, and willed herself to go back to sleep. There was no hope of that, however. Menolly wondered ruefully if she would ever have a quiet rest again.

She knew very well that it was her agitation and not that of the firelizards that was causing this nighttime distress. No matter what she told Sebell, each of her friends was calm and composed until Menolly began to have bad dreams. Furthermore, she could never, for any reason, tell Sebell the real cause of her distress, or let on what the images were that haunted her.

It had all started innocently enough. Menolly was sure that it was normal for a woman in her position to experience guilt, guilt for disloyal thoughts, guilt which would come out in strange ways, and keep her from sleep. Sometimes, Menolly knew, it took a long time for such guilt to come to fruition. By that same token, it was no doubt expected that someone would be torn up over the loss of a loved one, and Menolly would never shake the terrible feeling of loss that came from the former Masterharper's untimely death. It had been untimely, old as he was, because he had just survived a heart attack, and had just come into his own again as a powerful and vigorous man. He hadn't been ready to go, and Menolly hadn't been ready to lose him. She'd learned over time to suppress her emotions, to try and control them to a healthy degree. Yet, just in the last couple of sevendays, Menolly had found that those feelings of loss and pain, always far at the back of her mind, had become more intense, more awful than she had ever expected. She had no idea what had spurred this sudden onrush of recollections, but she did know that she couldn't live like this. And yet, there was nothing for it. She would simply have to learn to accept it, as she had learned to accept that she was allowed to be a harper, all those turns ago. This time, there was no one to help her, because no matter how much the rest of Pern had loved, and had been beloved of the former Masterharper, they would still never be capable of understanding the depth of her own loss.

Beauty chirped piteously, and nestled closer into the soft skin of Menolly's neck. She flashed an image into Menolly's mind, an image of a lithe bronze firelizard. It wasn't Rocky, Diver, Poll, or any other that belonged to members of the Hall. It was…

"Shards, not you too," whispered Menolly, shaking her head and gently pushing Beauty off of her and on to the pillow beside her. "Let me alone, you. I have enough of my own grief. The last thing I need is to see what you remember."

Sharra was waiting outside of Ruatha, watching Jaxom and Ruth spiral down towards her. It was late, and she was hungry, having waited for them for at least three hours in hopes of dining with her husband. Even as she watched the white dragon's arrival, her stomach growled awkwardly, and Sharra grimaced. She would have to have words with Jaxom about staying so long away from the hold, and then expecting her to have dinner on the table and warmth in her eye when he arrived. She was one of the most long-suffering women that she knew, but even she had her limits.

It was only as Ruth and Jaxom neared her that she noticed how the dragon listed in his flight, how the two of them drifted in almost haphazard spirals, entirely unlike their usual flight patterns. Alarmed, Sharra called out to him, waving her arms and standing on her tiptoes in hopes of being noticed.

"Jaxom! Ruth! Are you all right?"

She was forced to jump back as Ruth and his rider touched down, blowing up dust and dirt all over Sharra's skirts. She shook them out absently, rushing towards Jaxom even as he dismounted.

Jaxom's face was lined with exhaustion, and he sagged into Sharra's arms as she embraced him. Drawing in a breath, she lifted his head to gaze into his half-lidded eyes. "Ruth?" She asked, turning to gaze at the dragon. "Ruth, what's wrong? Is he hurt? Is Jaxom all right?"

We…are tired, Ruth responded, shaking his head in a bizarrely human-like gesture. We must bathe, and eat, and sleep, but we cannot. Jaxom is not well.

That much was apparent. Without any further communication, Ruth curled himself up into a dragon-sized ball, and prepared to sleep right where he'd landed. Sharra was about to encourage him to at least make his way to his much more comfortable bed, but before she'd had a chance to do so, Jaxom spoke, distracting her attention.

"I need…something to eat," he was saying trying and failing to struggle out of her grasp and to his own feet. "I have to sit down…we've been out too long in the sun, and I think…" Jaxom had to stop and take a few deep breaths before he continued. "I think it's gone to Ruth's head, and to mine." Even in the face of his fatigue, he turned to take a long, concerned look at his dragon.

I am fine, Sharra heard Ruth say. You must go with Sharra. You need to rest. Now. Before we must be off again. The dragon's tone was firm and Jaxom, dazedly obeying the order, turned to allow his wife to lead him back into the hold. As they entered and closed the heavy hold doors behind hem, Sharra remembered her previous idea of speaking to Jaxom about spending too much time away from home. Perhaps she wouldn't have to, if this intense fatigue was the result of his activity.

"I can't stay," he was muttering, even as she led him along. "F'lar of Benden's sent for me. Mnementh's bespoken Ruth, and I have to go…"

"You have to do nothing," retorted Sharra, "not in this condition. We'll talk more about overextending yourself after you've had a chance to get some food in you."

Jaxom waved her off, struggling away from her to gain his own sound footing. "No," he insisted, "not today. I'll eat, yes, but then I've got to go. You don't refuse the Benden Weyrleader's summons, Sharra. Even you know that"

Sharra did know that, but it didn't mean that she had to like it.