The Wind Beneath Her Wings
A Story from High Reaches Weyr, 12th Pass
By Maria Szabo
Disclaimer: The Dragonriders of Pern, its characters and settings belong to Anne McCaffrey and her heirs. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made save that of enjoyment.
As far as Tidrict—no, it's T'drict now, isn't it?—was concerned, today had been the most successful hatching in the history of Pern. Of course, he was somewhat prejudiced, having the unbelievable good fortune of impressing bronze Patritath. He looked down at the hatchling, lumbering awkwardly alongside as the new group of weyrlings followed the Weyrlingmaster to what would be their home for the next couple of years. He rubbed his hand lightly against Patritath's headknob. The luminous eyes of the hatchling gazed up in adoration.
You are wonderful. Patritath cooed.
"No. You are." T'drict couldn't help but smile. "This is the happiest day of my life!"
It is the happiest day of my life too.
"Silly. It's the first day of your life."
And the happiest.
T'drict certainly couldn't argue with the dragon's logic. He was so absorbed in the magic of the beast that he didn't realize they had broken off from the rest of the group and were wandering towards another part of the Weyr.
"No. This way."
T'drict almost jumped, he was so startled. Shocked, he turned to face the speaker and only then saw that he and Patritath had separated from the rest of the group.
"Oh. I'm sorry. C'mon, Patritath."
The woman who had stopped them smiled. She was pretty, in a quiet way, with an olive complexion and dark brown hair worn very short in the sort of bowl cut often seen among drudges. But the cut looked good on her. She wore a simple green dress with a great deal of flour spilled on it. "His name is Patritath?" she asked.
"Yes." The word carried such joy.
"That's a lovely name. And look at him! Those feet! He's going to be huge!"
Patritath, not too sleepy to realize he was being praised, looked up curiously at the tall woman. Then he caught his huge foot on his wingtip and tumbled over.
"Patritath!" T'drict rushed to help him up.
"Whoops. Here." The woman leaned over to the other side. That's when T'drict saw the weyrling knot she wore. They righted the hatchling in no time. "There we go, young bronze fellow. Not a scratch on you."
"Miss?"
"What?"
"Are you a weyrling too?"
The woman smiled, a bit sadly. "Yes." she said, putting out her hand to T'drict. "I'm T'iya, green Ainanith's rider."
T'drict took the offered hand, and realized she was greeting him as an equal. "And I'm T'drict, bronze Patritath's rider. But I thought weyrlings were kids, like me?"
T'iya had a pleasant laugh. "How old do you think I am?"
He knew a trap when he saw one. "Umm..."
She took pity. "Not everyone is as young as you. You've had what...12 turns?"
He nodded.
"Well, that's on the younger end of the scale. I had 20 turns when I impressed Ainanith, and that was over two turns ago. I think the weyr cuts off candidates at 21, so I got in right under the wire."
He heard hesitation in her voice. "You're not weyrbred?"
"Oh, no. My father's the Holder of Esvey Valley."
"Really? I'm holdbred, too."
Someone cleared his throat behind them. T'iya saw him first, and went red. The Weyrlingmaster was a intimidating man, whose dark clothing made him seem taller than he already was. T'drict had noticed an air about him that brooked no argument.
"Did we lose our way?" Weyrlingmaster A'ric had long cultivated a gift of true sarcasm.
"No, sir." the weyrlings replied in unison.
"Well, then. T'iya, perhaps you can show young T'drict to the barracks and get him settled in."
T'iya looked down and nodded her head.
"And then, since you don't seem to want to stay in the kitchens that you were assigned to, maybe you would care to assist the beastmaster in clearing the Weyrbowl?"
T'drict saw T'iya's eyes flash, and her mouth close swiftly, as if biting back a reply.
"With Ainanith's help?" she asked pointedly.
A'ric looked annoyed. "Ainanith stays in barracks until the commoners are gone. You know that."
"Yes, sir. C'mon, T'drict, Patritath."
She was really angry, thought T'drict, as she led him and his dragon away, muttering under her breath. He never realized a girl could cuss like that.
A'ric, bronze Jatath's rider, Weyrlingmaster of High Reaches Weyr, badly needed a rest. Hatching days were always hectic for him especially, and the next few weeks would be trying. While the infusion of new blood was good for the weyr, the task of helping those weyrlings of craft and hold breeding adjust to life in High Reaches was daunting. The crafthalls were conservative, the holds even more so, and the freedom of the Weyr often came as a shock to the newcomers.
That, compounded with the trauma of leaving their homes (many for the first time) and the overwhelming responsibilities that came with impressing a dragon, could make a weyrling's first few weeks hellish. And it was his
job to help the young ones through this time. Fortunately, he liked training the new riders. It gave A'ric a real sense of satisfaction to see a rough, awkward weyrling emerge into a disciplined rider.
Ainanith's rider is very angry. Ainanith is, too. Jatath sounded amused.
Well, let them be angry. That stunt she pulled last Threadfall could have killed them both, not to mention Benath and Lavandra. A'ric sighed, looking at the retreating figures of T'iya, Patritath and young T'drict. T'drict looked like a promising boy, a bit young at twelve turns, but a fine lad with a full head of black curls and a respectful manner. Patritath seemed a fine hatchling, as well. T'iya, however... A'ric shook his head. His career as Weyrlingmaster had gone rather smoothly for the most part. There were always a few problem children, or a few weyrling pairs lost to accidents before the promise of their youth could be realized, but on the whole, A'ric had had a smooth tenure. Until T'iya and her headstrong green came along.
The Weyrleaders wait.
A'ric quickened his steps and headed for the feasthall, where the Weyrleaders J'ron and Lavandra sat at the head table, speaking to Lord Jifren of Nabol Hold and one of his sons. A'ric stood respectfully back until the conversation was finished. Lord Jifren did not look pleased with the outcome, but then, that one rarely looked pleased with anything. He concluded his conversation, nodded briefly at J'ron, smiled at Lavandra, who beamed back at him (quite the actress, A'ric thought) and led his son away to another table.
J'ron was shaking his head as A'ric approached.
"Does it really surprise you?" asked Lavandra.
"No. No, it doesn't. And it shouldn't. But the nerve of that man... oh, hello, A'ric." J'ron smiled and indicated a chair next to him. "Have a seat."
"Lord Jifren again?" A'ric took the chair, reversed it and sat, his arms crossed over the back of the seat.
"Who else would it be?" Lavandra checked the klah pot near her, and satisfied, filled a cup and handed it to him. "He's been making incursions on some of Telgar's lands, and wants to make certain that we take especial care during thread fall over it."
"It's not like the area isn't in the flying path of two Weyrs." A'ric noted.
"Exactly. And even though he knows we can't and won't interfere on holder's business, he's convinced that Telgar Weyr will neglect to fly the area now that it's Nabol land."
J'ron laughed suddenly.
"What?" asked Lavandra.
He couldn't stop chortling. "Kalanth says that he must feel guilty for taking the land not his by right."
"From the mouths of babes and dragons..." quoted A'ric, and was rewarded by a smile from Lavandra, this one sincere. She really was an attractive woman, with long, curly auburn hair, green eyes and an exquisite figure... he stopped his thoughts right there. She might not think she was attached, but as the rider of the senior queen in the weyr, any bronze rider who got involved with her had to deal with the political consequences. And A'ric's life was complicated enough with handling the weyrlings. Besides, he couldn't do that to J'ron.
I could catch Benath. Jatath sounded uncertain. A'ric hid a smile. The bronze was very impressed by Lavandra's queen, but wary of Benath's temper.
I'm sure you could catch any queen you set your mind to. But you know how Kalanth is. J'ron's bronze was extremely devoted to Benath, and a better endurance flyer than Jatath.
"Well," began J'ron, "we didn't mean to drag you from the barracks, but we wanted to get a running start on the weyrlings this time. Do you have the riders you need for tonight?"
"Yes, thank you." Experienced riders were usually needed the first few nights in the barracks to help the weyrlings learn to care for their newborn dragons. "It was a good hatching."
"That T'drict seemed a bit young..." began Lavandra.
"The dragons choose." quoted A'ric and J'ron simultaneously. They each hesitated slightly, trying to give the other room to speak. Finally, A'ric continued, "We'll see how he does."
"Lord Jifren put in a good word for the boy." said J'ron. "T'drict's father has worked as Nabol's steward for years, and no one can deny that the hold's doing well. Lord Jifren said T'drict's a quick learner and a hard worker. And you shouldn't have too rough off a time this run—most of the candidates who impressed this time were weyrbred."
"That'll help." agreed A'ric. "The older weyrlings are progressing well, although we lost M'ren and Dogeth between a few weeks ago and Hestath died of scoring from three falls ago." A'ric's eyes darkened. Training was dangerous, and weyrlings did not always survive. But he hated to lose any of his charges. J'ron patted his shoulder in consolation.
"R'til suicided last night. He was still too wounded to leave the Weyr and he couldn't bear to face the hatching." Lavandra seemed a bit subdued. Then her pretty face hardened. "What about That Green?"
J'ron raised his eyebrows at A'ric, almost gleefully awaiting his response. For some reason, J'ron had championed young Ainanith when Lavandra was about to throw her out of the weyr after the last fall. Not that a dragon could be thrown out of the weyr, but it seemed a good idea at the time. The last fall had been the first that T'iya and Ainanith had been permitted to fly, and only to deliver firestone to the wings. Late in the flight, T'iya had grown exhausted by the duty of throwing bag after bag of firestone to riders, and Ainanith, seeking to ease her rider's discomfort, flew in too close to the dragon she was to deliver too. There was a near collision, prevented only by a fantastic dive by Ainanith, who had the bad fortune to dive right into the midst of the Verde wing, and on a direct course for Lavandra and Benath. It was only through the most incredible acrobatic move any of the queens had ever seen that the green avoided the senior queen, but the near collision managed to disrupt both the Verde wing below and the Azul wing above. By some miracle, neither T'iya nor Ainanith were scratched, scorched or scored, although many said it might have taught That Green a good lesson.
"Ainanith is still confined to the barracks until the commoners leave. T'iya was assigned kitchen duties..." A'ric felt it indiscreet to mention to Lavandra that T'iya refused to stay put in the kitchens. He'd handle that one himself. "She's not leaving the weyrling ranks anytime soon. Al least, not until she gets her dragon under control."
"How old is Ainanith now, anyway?" asked J'ron. Threadfall, wings and riders he could keep up with, but the weyrlings and their ages were something else.
"Now you ask." Lavandra was still upset. "That Green is two and a half years old, far old enough to follow flight protocol and far too old to still be in weyrling training!"
"Lavandra." J'ron's tone was quiet and pleasant, but brooked no argument. "A dragon who can fly with that kind of precision is an asset to any weyr. Give her time."
A'ric nodded in agreement. "T'iya's illness and the delay in training was untortunate, but I feel we can still work around it. The girl's quite aware that her use to the weyr hinges on the performance of her dragon within the wings, and in spite of what we saw in that performance of hers last threadfall, T'iya and Ainanith have made tremendous progress since resuming training." Besides, he thought, this has become a personal challenge. I will be scorched before I let That Green defeat me.
Lavandra acquiesced, and the conversation turned to more promising riders.
T'iya awoke early, despite her exhaustion from helping to clean the Weyr beasthold last night. She'd returned to the barracks and collapsed into the little alcove where her dragon slept dragging her bedfurs and a pillow with her. Ainanith liked it when T'iya could sleep alongside her, for since that terrible illness had nearly taken her rider away, Ainanith could never quite be convinced that her T'iya would not go away again. And T'iya liked the warmth of the dragon, and kept Ainanith's bedspace swept very clean so that she could sleep there often.
And anything that might improve Ainanith's temper right now would be useful, thought T'iya, exasperated. T'iya was a fairly quiet woman whose heavy-handed father had taught her the value of keeping her tongue in her mouth. T'iya kept her temper in, because that had been the only way to survive in Esvey Valley Hold. But Ainanith was not so timid, and T'iya often had to bear the onslaught of Ainanith's stronger emotions, and the rider often felt like she was fighting a losing battle.
Like the anger she felt towards A'ric last night. She'd really impressed young T'drict with her vocabulary as she led him back to the barracks after the Weyrlingmaster had dismissed them, and yet T'iya couldn't fault the bronzerider, despite everything. She had made a serious mistake during that last fall, and she could have seriously injured herself, her dragon, or others. It was within A'ric's rights to assign her punitive duties. Ainanith was furious, though, because she felt T'iya was being punished for something that she, Ainanith, had done. T'iya yawned, pulled herself off Ainanith's couch and stretched.
Awake, my beauty? she asked.
Ainanith opened one eye and looked at her rider. I am now.
And in a better mood, I hope?
I am always in a good mood, replied the dragon irritably. I itch.
Well, it's early yet. Let's go to the lake and wash you up.
Jatath said I am not to leave the Barracks. His orders.
T'iya snorted, in a fair imitation of her dragon. A'ric is always going on about hygiene. You need a bath. I don't see the problem. So let's go. The sooner you bathe, the sooner I can bathe.
I like that logic, replied Ainanith, and got off the couch stretching herself to get her circulation going.
She was really a gorgeous dragon, T'iya thought fondly watching Ainanith stretch. Perfectly proportioned, a lovely rich shade of green, growing sleek now as her adolescence was coming to an end. The dragon had lost a lot of weigh during T'iya's bout with the scarlet fever, and the coughing illness that had hit right afterward. Yet Ainanith never faltered in the belief that her rider would not die, and refused to let go of T'iya's mind.
After much discussion between the Weyrlingmaster and the Weyrwoman (the last one, Renea), it was decided to let Ainanith learn to fly without her rider, so that the vital muscles would develop correctly at the proper time. Some of the other women riders in the weyr who approximated T'iya's pre-illness weight would take Ainanith on her exercises, and T'iya did her best to recover as quickly and completely as she could. She grew very adept at making riding straps and rider's knots during this time, since most days the healer would not let her wander much farther than the healing rooms, except to visit Ainanith. In fact, T'iya got the odd mark now and again for making straps and knots for other riders.
A quick glance around showed the barracks quiet, with the new hatchlings still asleep. T'iya grabbed some scrubbing supplies and led her dragon outside the Bar-racks to the Weyr lake. The skirt and shirt she'd wore to muck out the stalls with last night would do fine for bathing Ainanith, since she'd have to wash them later anyway. She kicked off the leather shoes she usually wore when not riding and looped her skirt up into her belt. She stepped into the water, trying not to mind the chill.
You won't get chilled, will you? asked Ainanith as she made her way into the water.
Trust the darling to overhear that thought. I'll be fine. Get yourself wet. I'll prepare the soapsand.
Often, in the winter months, a rider could have her dragon get wet, and then return for a scrubbing, and then go back for a rinse. This practice kept illness down in the weyr, although the dragons preferred the summer when their riders would join them for a frolic in the water.
"Look who's here!" another green passed her on the way into the water. It was R'ada's Siyanth. "How's the ungrateful wretch?"
"Very funny." T'iya flicked some water at her friend. R'ada had transferred from Igen Weyr after her blood-brother's dragon began to show an unhealthy intent interest in the maturing Siyanth. Weyr morals were noticeably looser than that of Hall or Hold, but not that loose. R'ada had befriended T'iya during her long recovering. The two women were of an age, although R'ada had impressed her Siyanth much earlier, and seemed to have more experience in life in general. "So how was the hatching?"
"That's right. You weren't there, were you?" R'ada tried to recall some of the high points of the day. "The usual excitement. The harpers at the feast were extraordinary. Lord Jifren was just beaming—his steward's oldest son impressed a bronze and you would've thought it was one of his own the way he was going on about the boy."
"Hmm." Lord Jifren happened to be her first cousin and was not a favorite of hers.
R'ada misinterpreted the statement. "Don't feel so bad, girl. There will be other hatchings."
T'iya gave her friend a hug, laughing. R'ada was a treasure, through and through, and T'iya counted herself fortunate to have met her. "Let's get those dragons clean, shall we?"
"Let's!"
Jatath had allowed his rider to sleep late the morning after the hatching, knowing that would be the last full night of peace either of them would have for a while. When A'ric awoke and realized this, he scolded his dragon halfheartedly.
You are being silly. Jatath replied. You needed the sleep. You were up with the Weyrleaders very late. And it is still early. The hatchling are not yet awake. And I am hungry now.
Jatath had a habit of ending disputes with his rider by stating a sudden need for food, bath or sleep. The dragon was of the opinion that his rider pushed himself too hard, and took things much too seriously. A'ric, he felt, needed him as much as Jatath needed A'ric, if only to lighten his many cares.
A'ric launched himself up from his bed and dressed quickly. He splashed some water on his face and ran a comb through his long hair. He pulled on his boots and straightened the bed. A Weyrlingmaster had to set a good example. Jatath approved.
"Let's go." said A'ric, and led them out of the weyr, across the bowl to the hunting ground. As they walked past the Lake, Jatath noticed two riders sending their greens out for a final rinse. One of whom was... Jatath reacted with an angry bellow.
A'ric looked over at his dragon, startled. What is it?
Ainanith. Jatath replied, and indicated the lake.
A'ric looked past the dragon and saw two women wading, washing soapsand off their hands. Yes, that was T'iya, there, laughing and talking to another, taller, woman with red-brown hair tied off in a braid.
Siyanth's rider. The one from Igen. Tomasth flew her. You remember. Jatath was always up on the gossip. Brown Tomasth was from the same hatching as himself, and his rider had been a close friend and ally of A'ric's during the long training, along with blue Irrusith's rider. The three dragons and riders had been inseparable. A'ric had been surprised, not by the flight, but by the fact that Tomasth's rider had stayed with Siyanth's rider, which was usually not the case with that one.
A'ric was not one to let discipline slip easily. Ainanith had been confined to quarters. And while he could make allowance for the care of a dragon, to leave barracks without permission while being confined... Jatath was happy to see his rider understood.
The two women chatted on happily, not noticing the approach of the Weyrlingmaster and his dragon. Then Ainanith must have said something to her rider, for that one stiffened suddenly and the whirled to see the approaching pair. Her face echoed dismay. Siyanth's rider merely looked curious, and then smiled and waved at A'ric.
"Hello, there! Come to join the bathing party?" T'iya groaned.
"No." A'ric wasted no words. "T'iya."
Ainanith's rider seemed agitated. Well, good for her, thought Jatath. At least she recognizes the fact that she was in trouble. Ainanith.
The green emerged from her underwater position and looked Jatath straight in the eye. What?
Jatath was not amused by this show of innocence. Get out of the lake. At once.
T'iya said I must be bathed.
Your rider is not in charge here. We are. Get out of there, NOW.
Ainanith ducked back under the water.
Jatath let out a stentorian bellow that had all three humans shocked.
"Get her out of there. Now." A'ric spoke quietly, forcefully.
"It's not her fault." replied T'iya. "I told her to leave the barracks. She needed washing and oiling." She faltered under A'ric's cold stare.
"Now." He repeated, just as quietly.
"Let me at least oil her. She's itching."
"Now."
T'iya bristled. "This is not fair. You've always gone on about how we care for..."
"I don't care if it's fair. You have a direct order, weyrling. Follow it."
"T'iya, hon," began the other woman, touching her arm.
"It's all right, R'ada. C'mon Ainanith. Out and about." T'iya matched word to deed and waded out of the lake, gesturing to her dragon. She walked straight up to A'ric, with a hurt look. "We had to get this done before the hatchlings awoke. You were asleep."
A'ric betrayed no emotion as he looked down at the weyrling, although he was furious. Jatath was seething as Ainanith made her way from the lake to stand, dripping, next to her rider. "Back to barracks."
"But..."
"Now." He narrowed his eyes, and suddenly T'iya realized he meant business. Without another word, she walked over to wear she had kicked her shoes, and, not looking at A'ric or Jatath, she picked up her shoes and headed back towards the barracks building, Ainanith following behind her, not looking sorry at all. Jatath snorted.
"Was that necessary?" asked the other green rider.
A'ric said nothing, but looked cuttingly at the woman.
"Don't try that look on me. I trained under L'mren of Igen. You're not being fair to her."
"I don't recall asking for your opinion."
"You didn't. You're getting it anyway." R'ada smiled to take the bite off the words. A'ric was a close friend of her weyrmate, P'regrin, and despite being something of a martinet, was a decent person. "I know you're having problems with those two, but punishing T'iya is not going to solve anything."
"Oh, really?" The answer did not encourage further conversation.
R'ada ignored his implication to shut up. "T'iya's well aware of the discipline problems she'd had with Ainanith. She's more than aware of the dangers. That fever gave her a good, healthy dose of fear as far as death's concerned. Her dragon, however..."
"What about her?"
"That one is not afraid of anything. Dragons don't think ahead, and some dragons don't comprehend the meaning of the word 'consequences'. Ainanith is the one you have to deal with."
"Ah. I see. And how do you propose we do that?"
R'ada smiled at him charmingly.
"You're the Weyrlingmaster. You figure it out."
As the green rider headed back into the water towards her dragon, Jatath caught his rider wondering how P'regrin managed to deal with the woman on a daily basis.
I'm still hungry, he reminded A'ric.
Well, let's get to the Hunting Grounds then.
Siyanth's rider has a point.
In what way?
Jatath turned his great eyes towards his rider. Ainanith has no fear. She almost has the spirit of a queen, in the body of a green.
A'ric thought on this a moment. So what's your point?
I think perhaps Ainanith is not influenced enough by her rider. Her rider seems to understand why we are concerned.
I still think the rider is part of the problem.
She is. But not the part you think. When she is being insubordinate, is it not always in reaction to Ainanith's urging? Jatath let his rider think on that a moment. Green riders were notorious for being as proddy as their dragons. The greens tended to broadcast their emotions on a broad band, not just when mating, but at all times. Even the most phlegmatic of green riders were affected by this tendency. Ainanith must be made to understand that her actions affect others, especially her rider.
A'ric smiled slowly, in real admiration. You're incredible.
I know. Now I must hunt.
T'iya and Ainanith headed straight back to the barracks, stopping only to let Ainanith shake the water off of her. T'iya kept muttering under her breath.
What are those words you are saying? I don't understand.
T'iya laughed, a bit sourly. Not words a lady like you should know. She led the dragon back into the barracks, and noticed some of the other weyrlings were awakening. C'mon, back to your alcove. I'm not in the mood to deal with anyone right now.
I still itch.
I know you do, darling. I still have the oil here. We'll just oil you in your cove and then I'll bathe. At least I don't have to leave the barracks to do that!
She did have to share the bathing room with the other weyrlings, but the new ones with the hatchlings would be too wrapped up with the dragons to care to bathe, and the older ones surely would be set on some assignment or another from that... that... tyrant. How could R'ada be so pleasant to the man? He was so
unfair! Well, maybe she'd feel better after she had Ainanith oiled and herself bathed. She still stunk of the stables. That is, if Lord Weyrlingmaster and his mighty dragon didn't drag her out for another job!
Jatath hunts, replied Ainanith considerately. There is time for both of us to be clean.
Good! She grabbed a pot of oil and got started at once.
T'iya was surprised when, as the day's assignments to the older weyrlings were given out, she was not charged with beasthold duty, kitchen duty or any other onerous task. The Weyrlingmaster acted as if nothing had happened at the lake, and requested that she work with Ainanith privately flying, since considerable progress was needed in that area. Something was not right with this assignment, and she told Ainanith so.
What is so wrong with us flying together? When you were ill, I had to fly with others. I want to fly with you! Dragons tended to be very literal.
That isn't the problem, T'iya replied. How often are weyrlings allowed to practice on their own? Especially here, with the winds we've got?
Winds do not bother me.
The statement made T'iya even more nervous. One of the reasons she was still counted among the weyrlings was her lack of ease in flying her dragon. Most weyrlings and dragons learn to fly together, and T'iya's illness had prevented that in their case. She still felt hesitant with the non-verbal cues that dragons and riders used with each other, and Ainanith's tendency for daredevil flying did little to ease her discomfort. She had no clue if Ainanith was overstraining herself, as another rider might with his own dragon. However, she kept her thoughts to herself, and merely nodded at the Weyrlingmaster, and ran to fetch her riding gear.
The first lift-off went well, and Ainanith made good time to the rim. T'iya was of the opinion that Ainanith's speed could not be matched by any other dragon in the weyr, at least not at short distances. Greens weren't designed for the long haul. Once they reached the rim of the Weyr, T'iya once again marveled at the spectacular sight of the Seven Spindles, the craggy peaks that surrounded High Reaches Weyr and were its landmark. They were to fly straight, staying in the area of the Weyr—tricky flying with the capricious wind patterns common to the mountainous region.
Okay, Ainanith, let's make it around the rim once, and then head for the farthest peak. Straight flying, mind you.
Ainanith made no verbal reply, yet a stab of joy went right through T'iya.
The green dragon beat her wings and then, catching a wind, glided with it, saving her strength. She caught another wind then, and shot around the rim of the Weyr, at dizzying speed.
Slow down! This isn't a race!
But we fly! And with that, Ainanith made one of her spectacular dives.
No! Pull up! We're not supposed to dive into the Weyr! Pull up!
The dragon complied, reluctantly, and whizzed around the rim again. She nearly collided with a blue that had just appeared from between.
Ainanith!
I'm sorry! He just was there!
Oh, shards. Look, just head straight across to the far peak.
I will. She didn't sound very contrite.
Who was the blue? I'll have to apologize to his rider later.
Irrusith. He says his rider is angry.
I just bet he is. C'mon.
Ainanith sped straight across the bowl, and towards the highest peak of the Seven Spindles. The speed was disconcerting. T'iya just wished she could close her eyes and hang on, like she had the first day when she came to the weyr after being Searched. But she was a rider now, and riders had to keep their eyes open.
Go around the peak, she ordered. We'll swing back around and weave the Spindles. Surely that would be a safe enough exercise. The weyrlings did that all the time.
They wove the Spindles six or seven times, practicing flight angles. Then Ainanith got bored.
This is too easy, the dragon complained.
Once again, darling. You might not need the practice, but I assure you, I do!
You are a wonderful rider!
Were that but true, thought T'iya, and then all thought flew out of her head.
Ainanith! What are you doing?
Taking this faster. The dragon sounded smug.
No. No. Don't.
It will he fine! She dove towards the smallest peak at a steep angle and whipped around. You see!
Ainanith! Dammit, she was losing control. Control, that's what successful flying depended on...
The green headed towards the next peak, the second tallest of the seven. T'iya tried desperately to form a command in her mind, and felt her mind freeze up. They shot around that peak as well and headed for the next peak, not across, but directly to the side. That's when the sidewind hit.
The dragon swerved, to try and compensate. T'iya found herself upside down, holding on for dear life.
Ainanith! Get back to the Weyr! Now!
Another wind hit them, driving them closer to the peak. The green again tried to compensate, beating ferociously with her winds as she worked to regain altitude.
I cannot escape this wind...
Oh, shards. Ainanith! You must!
The peak seemed closer.
I tire... I tire...
The tears were freezing to her cheek. T'iya fought to remain calm. Ainanith, the fearless, was beginning to panic. Another gust of wind, stronger than ever, caught the wrong side of the green's wings and pushed them even closer. Every horror story T'iya had heard about weyrlings dying in the mountains chose to come to her mind at that moment. She closed her eyes, and thought of her mother, her father, her home...
Swing around! Now! An unfamiliar voice rang in her head. Catch the wind!
The exhausted dragon pulled on her last ounce of energy, and caught the wind, whipping around the peak.
Straight forward. DO IT.
She didn't know who the voice belonged to, and she didn't care. T'iya clung to the back of her dragon, and gave Ainanith every bit of strength she could muster. Ainanith pulled forward, out of the treacherous wind pattern, and into the air space above the bowl. And then they started falling, Ainanith shrieking in alarm. A blue blur flew past them, bugling.
Fall. We will catch you. Let them catch you, do not be afraid. Brace yourself, rider, the impact will be rough. Calm her down.
T'iya shook her head at the cacophony of voices echoing in her brain and then focused on Ainanith.
They'll catch us. Don't be afraid. They'll catch us, just relax and let them catch us. She chanted the words, willing her dragon to calm. She turned her head slightly, and saw a queen and two bronzes below, with the blue shrieking encouragement. T'iya willed her body to relax, knowing that tenseness during the impact could break her to bits.
The impact was jarring, and T'iya had to ignore her own pain to keep Ainanith calm. The larger dragons guided the green down to the ground. Once they reached the ground, the queen underneath moved out of the way and let Ainanith settle. T'iya released her fighting straps and fell off the dragon, rolling with the impact as she'd been taught.
It didn't take three seconds for the Weyrlingmaster to be on her.
"Shards, girl! What were you thinking? Were you trying to kill both of you?"
T'iya only comprehended that A'ric, who never shouted, was practically screaming at them. She stood up slowly, faced the weyrlingmaster, and then pitched over in a faint.
Much later than evening, A'ric made his way to Lavandra's weyr. The queenrider sat at the head of a table in the midst of the weyr, sipping delicately on some wine. J'ron, sitting next to her, noticed the Weyrlingmaster's entrance first.
"Come in! Have a seat!" The Weyrleader reached for the decanter. "Would you care for some wine?"
"Yes, I think I might." How J'ron could be so calm after what happened this afternoon was beyond A'ric's understanding. Lavandra smiled at him sympathetically, as if she knew what was going through his head. A'ric took the seat next to the Weyrleader and accepted the proffered goblet.
"How is she?" asked Lavandra, quickly.
"Bruised." A'ric smiled grimly. "Scared to death."
"And That Green?"
"She overflew herself. She'll be sore for about a sevenday, but the Weyrhealer could not see permanent damage." He shrugged his shoulders. "Those two have the luck of the stars, it seems."
Lavandra made an exasperated sound, setting her wineglass down on the table. "If Irrusith had not taken off after them, and warned Benath, the Spindles would have swallowed another weyrling!"
"But he did." Reminded J'ron, gently, smiling at the Weyrwoman. Then he cast a stern eye on A'ric. "What I want to know is why that girl was flying on her own, especially considering the problems we've had with her of late?"
A'ric was afraid he'd come to that. He looked directly at the older man and willed him to understand. "It was a training decision. We, Jatath and I, felt that the only way to calm Ainanith down was to let her overwork herself, and have a small crisis. We did not, however, anticipate that T'iya would choose to weave the Spindles. She has always hated that exercise."
The Weyrleader did not look appeased. "Without any backup?"
"I had asked I'ndaren to take Irrusith to the rim to check on her, and guide her down if necessary. Rather than come straight down after a near collision, as she should have, T'iya chose to continue the practice. She was very fortunate that Ainanith is stronger and more agile than most greens."
"Thank the stars for that!" Lavandra sighed.
J'ron picked up his own wineglass and took a quaff, and leaned back in his chair. "I see. I'm not sure I condone that sort of risk, but then," and he grinned sheepishly, "I've no experience in training headstrong weyrlings. What will you do with her?"
"Punishment?" asked A'ric. "I'm not sure it is necessary."
"Not necessary?" Burst out Lavandra, staring in disbelief. "She's endangered her dragon and disrupted her Weyr for the second time in as many weeks!"
"What good would it do?" returned A'ric. "Mucking out a beasthold, which I assure you she'd grown quite proficient at, does not help the girl to learn to ride her dragon. She and Ainanith had a good scare today, and maybe That Green has learned some fear."
"So," asked J'ron. "What do you propose to do with her? We really can't throw her out of the weyr..."
Lavandra made a noise in her throat, as if to disagree. J'ron shot her a look.
"Keep her in the weyrling wing." replied A'ric, smirking. "She hates it there. Today's lesson was a valuable one. Jatath and I will see that she remembers it."
"Alright." J'ron shook his head. "But keep her out of threadfall for now. And strict training, especially groupflights."
A'ric nodded his agreement, and finished the rest of his wine.
All was quiet in the weyrling barracks as A'ric returned, doing one last round before returning to his nearby quarters. He glanced carefully over the sleeping weyrling, and then checked the hatchlings, untangling the wing of T'drict's little bronze, and running a hand over Silirah's tiny green. As he walked through the area reserved for the older weyrlings and their dragons, he thought he caught the sound of muffled weeping, coming from one of the senior weyrling's alcoves. Ainanith's, he realized.
He entered the small alcove, and saw T'iya, curled up by her dragon, weeping as if her heart would break. He approached and laid a hand on her shoulder.
"Wha...?" she looked up, and wiped her eyes impatiently with her hand.
"Why are you crying now? The danger is past."
She bowed her head. He sensed, rather than saw, more tears, silent this time.
"Neither of you are hurt badly—she will recover, you know."
"Yes." Replied T'iya, quietly. "I know."
"Then, why..."
She turned her head away and said softly "What happened today. It was my fault. I couldn't control her." T'iya glanced back at A'ric. "I tried. I really tried. I thought, maybe if I had the courage to weave the Spindles, I could control her. She'd be too busy to fight me."
"Fight you?" He took her hand, to make her look at him. "She fights you?"
"Ever since I was sick. She learned so much without me, she knows better, you know?"
He swore softly. "You're holdbred, aren't you?" T'iya looked puzzled, then nodded.
"Girl, the dragon doesn't know better. Oh, granted, they know some things, but there is a reason they are paired with mankind." He smiled wryly. "If I did everything my Jatath wanted, especially when we were young, we'd not have survived our first threadfall."
"But she loves me..."
"Of course she does. But that doesn't mean she knows what's best for you both. You need to assert yourself. If it helps you, think of it this way...your duty is to help and protect your dragon, and you do that by staying in control."
She nodded slowly, as if thinking over the point. "Thank you."
He patted her hand again, and then rose. "Get some sleep." he said. "You'll be very busy tomorrow."
Her grimace could be seen even in the dim light. "Beasthold duty again?"
"If that's what you want..."
She looked confused.
"Weyrling exercises, girl. Maybe establish some dominance, eh?"
T'iya smiled sheepishly, and then gathered her sleeping furs around her. A'ric left the young woman curled up with her dragon. No doubt, he thought, dreaming of the trouble she could cause tomorrow.
FIN