Dragonhealer

Dragonriders of Pern belongs to Anne McCaffrey, I'm only borrowing her wonderful world and dragons to play with. I make no money off this.

This story was intended for a friend's birthday present. It's the first one I've written so be kind when reviewing.

Aurilla of Sun's Edge Weyr, rider of green Amrianth, awoke in the predawn hours, shivering. She had kicked off her sleeping furs and woolen blankets sometime during the night and her feet were freezing. Teeth chattering, she tucked her frozen toes beneath her long nightdress and tugged the covers back over herself, yawning. She could tell it was still night, her quarters faced the rising sun and in the vast cave beyond, where her beloved green dragon slept, it was still dark. A small glow hung in a basket over her bed, she always kept one lit in case she had to get up in the middle of the night for an emergency with one of the dragons or another animal.

Though only fifteen Turns old, Aurilla was the Junior Dragonhealer in Sun's Edge Weyr, a great responsibility for one so young. But it was her calling, as it was for her father, R'lan, brown Draketh's rider. From the time she could walk, Aurilla had been fascinated with the great dragons and also with helping any animal in need. She used to tag after her father when he made rounds in the weyr, tending to those dragons who had been wounded fighting Thread. Threadscore was very painful and left ragged puckered scars in both rider and dragon's hide if not treated properly. Aurilla's father was a master at fixing Threadscore, able to sew the ragged flesh together so that it left very faint scars and sometimes, if one was very lucky, no scar at all. He was also adept at treating dragons for other injuries, like strained tendons and torn muscles, which occurred with distressing regularity during Threadfall, as the dragons performed amazing aerial acrobatics to avoid the falling Thread. R'lan was highly regarded by all the dragonriders in the weyr, especially the Weyrleader and Weyrwoman, P'rell and Simona, who were the community's rulers.

Thus it came as no real surprise that one of R'lan's offspring would demonstrate his facility in healing. Indeed, it was a great relief to all the weyrfolk that Aurilla had inherited his talent, since R'lan's younger child, Darren, bred mostly mischief. Darren was eleven Turns old, and in Aurilla's opinion was an unquestionable annoyance and a pest. He was never still and always poking his skinny nose where it didn't belong. If there was something forbidden, chances were good that Darren would try it, just to see if he could get away with it. Before Aurilla had Impressed Amrianth, she had suggested to her father and mother that they foster her little brother out to another weyr or Crafthall before he drove everyone at Sun's Edge crazy. Her mother, Audra, had shaken her head and said she wouldn't dream of saddling another woman with Darren, it would be far too much to ask of anyone else.

"He'll grow out of it eventually," Audra had sighed.

"Hopefully before all my hair's gone gray," R'lan had said, running a hand through his wavy locks, which were still a uniform brown. "Until then we've just got to be patient."

Aurilla had bit her lip, for though she was patient with animals and dragons, her brother could make her angry in a heartbeat. Privately, she thought her parents were entirely too easy on the wretched scamp and should give him a good spanking more often. But there was slim chance of that. R'lan was the most easygoing rider in the whole Weyr, he hardly ever raised his voice, and Aurilla could count on one hand the times he'd raised a hand to her. Audra was a bit more strict, but she favored scoldings and chores over physical punishment, methods which did not seem to have the slightest effect on her rebellious son. And the one time Aurilla had lost her temper and given the brat a smack, she'd gotten in trouble.

"If I'd thought beating you was an effective means of correcting behavior, both of you'd have been black and blue," her father had said sternly, frowning down at her. "In any case, discipline is my job, not yours, young lady, so next time let me handle it." Then he'd given her an afternoon's worth of peeling tubers and scrubbing pots in the Lower Caverns! As for Darren, all he got was a stern talking-to and been made to write I will not play with Aurilla's medical satchel one hundred times. Granted, given her brother's restless nature, his punishment must have seemed like an awful chore, but Aurilla knew that it wouldn't make an impression in her impulsive sibling's head past the time it took to think up some new mischief.

Sometimes Aurilla wondered how her parents lived with the embarrassment of having such a child. Granted, there were times when Darren could be sweet and funny, but those qualities were eclipsed by his penchant for trouble, so much so that Weyrleader P'rell had given the boy the nickname of Trouble, as in "Uh oh, here comes Trouble."

Not that Aurilla herself was perfect, for she wasn't, but her transgressions usually were on behalf of some poor injured creature, not herself. Such as the time she'd found the injured runnerbeast and had snuck it into her father's weyr to tend, not realizing that it was unused to confined spaces. It had gone berserk and kicked down an entire shelf of numbweed jars and fellis juice vials and smashed a table and a chair before she had managed to corner it and calm it down. Her father had been furious. "How many times must I tell you to ask before you bring an injured wild animal home, Aurilla? I'm not running a waystation for every injured creature on Pern, blast it!" His scolding that time had been particularly fierce, nearly making her cry, but at least he'd allowed her to treat the animal and had not made her turn it loose. He'd also made her replace every one of the broken pots of numbweed, the anesthetic salve that was native to Pern, and fellis juice, a chore that took days of backbreaking labor. But Aurilla did not regret saving the runnerbeast, only her foolishness at not confining it securely first!

Her penchant for bringing home injured wildlife persevered until she'd Impressed Amrianth, after that she was far too busy tending to her newly hatched dragonet to rescue wild animals. No one had been more surprised than Aurilla when she'd Impressed, she had not even intended to attend the Hatching that evening, she'd been up to her elbows in numbweed kettles, rendering down more of the smelly plant for the new batch of riders and dragons who'd been scored during the last Fall to take time out to watch the Hatching.

Darren had pestered her unmercifully, tugging her sleeve, and whining, "But you have to go to the Hatching, Aurilla! Everyone's gonna be there! You can make smelly old numbweed after, ugh!" And he'd wrinkled up his nose and gagged, so that she was forced to wipe her streaming eyes and chuckle at him. "And there's gonna be spiced wherry and meat pasties, bubbly pies and I don't know what else for the feast. You'll miss it all if you don't come. And so will I, cause Mom says I have to stay where you can see me, since this was the third time she caught me and Ranek sneaking onto the Hatching Grounds to touch Myalanth's eggs," he admitted shamelessly.

"Only you, little brother, would be caught three times in a row disturbing a queen dragon's eggs," Aurilla sighed, wiping her hands on a cloth. "Don't you ever learn?"

He scuffed a toe along the ground. "It was Ranek's fault," he grumbled. "He tripped and knocked into an egg and woke up Myalanth." Ranek was his playmate and partner in mischief, a fosterling of Rani, the head cook.

"Both of you know better than to pester a queen dragon this close to a Hatching," Aurilla scolded. "You're old enough to know better. You're just lucky the Weyrwoman didn't decide to punish you herself, else you'd have ended up with a sore bottom." Simona was short-tempered when her dragon was brooding her eggs and not inclined to put up with nonsense from the Weyr's most notorious mischief-maker.

Darren scowled, his unruly dark hair falling into his blue eyes. "I'd have rather gotten beaten than been stuck in here with you all day watching you making numbweed. How can you stand the smell? Makes me want to throw up." He put a hand over his mouth to illustrate his point. "In fact, if I don't get some fresh air, I'm gonna puke right here." He gave a convincing moan and held his stomach.

Aurilla's head jerked up, alarmed. "Darren, don't you dare!" she cried. "If you make yourself sick, I'll throttle you, I swear it!"

"I don't know if I can help it," her brother groaned. "Please, can't we get outta here and go see the Hatching, Rilla? I'll behave and so will my stomach, I promise."

She shot him an exasperated look, debating on the wisdom of finishing her task or having to deal with a puking brother. To his credit, the boy did look faintly green, so she wasn't sure if he was faking or not. It was better not to take the chance. "All right. We'll go to the Hatching," she acquiesced, tugging off her heavy wherhide apron, and moving the simmering numbweed kettles to the back of the hearth so they wouldn't scorch.

Darren gave a joyous yell and grinned at her like a dimwit. "Thanks, Aurilla, you're the best!"

She gave him a smile, then shook her finger at him. "Just you remember what you promised, Darren of Sun's Edge. You put one toe out of line and I'll tell the Weyrleader to skin you alive, got it?"

He gulped and nodded. He was afraid of P'rell, who was a strict unbending individual who did not have a sense of humor. P'rell only needed to look at a weyrling to make him or her behave. His voice alone could make a child tremble or cry, it was like gravel over metal, and even his riders feared his temper, which flared like summer lightning.

Aurilla washed her face and hands in the basin of warm water, combing her short brown locks back with her fingers. Her hair, unlike her brother's, was fine and tended to tangle, which was why she kept it short to her shoulders. She had a serious heart-shaped face and wide eyes of a startling bright green. She was of average height and slender, though she did not take care with her appearance the way most girls her age did, she knew better than to wear fine dresses and such when tending sick animals.

Her mother, who was the Weyr's head seamstress, had made her a fine Gather dress of plum-colored cotton with embroidered fire lizards around the hem and sleeves, which went exceedingly well with her golden-tanned skin and dark coloring. She had planned to wear it at the next Gather. Recalling it, she quickly decided she would wear it for the Hatching, which was an important event and one in which the weyrfolk dressed to impress, no pun intended.

But before she could go to her room and shed her old tunic and pants for her finery, a deep throbbing hum began, seeming to shake the Weyr. She felt a shivering shudder race through her, and all her nerves were alight and quivering.

"Aurilla! The eggs! They're hatching!" Darren cried, dragging her out the door of the workshop and down the corridor. "Come on! Hurry!"

The humming came from the throats of all the dragons in the weyr, serenading the entrance of their kind into the world. All the bronzes in the weyr were arrayed in a large semi-circle on the ledges above the Hatching Grounds, humming in harmony to the rocking eggs. Aurilla had a vivid image of this as she followed her brother down the corridor and up the stairs to the sand-strewn arena that was the Hatching Grounds. She had been a small child, maybe four or five Turns, the last time a Hatching had taken place, and she could barely remember it.

For some reason, this time, the dragons' humming awoke an urgency within her. It was imperative that she reach the Hatching Grounds now. It was the kind of feeling she'd had only once or twice before, when she'd helped her father tend a badly wounded dragon or his rider. Yet, it was subtly different as well. There was no threat of death, no fear, just a sense of . . .excitement and expectancy.

They arrived at the grounds just in time to see the first dragonet crack its shell. It crooned loudly, shaking off the moisture from its wet brown wings. Then it stumbled towards the white-robed candidates standing on the hot sands waiting to Impress. It made right for a tall blond-haired boy of about fifteen, crooning hungrily. The boy put out a hand and the little dragon butted his chest, its multi-faceted eyes whirling green-blue.

The boy locked his eyes with the brown's—and in that instant Impression occurred. He knelt in the sand and hugged the little dragon. "His name's Tilareth!" he announced, grinning broadly.

The rest of the watching weyrfolk cheered. Now other eggs were rocking and splitting their shells, and more wet dragonets were tumbling to the sands, crying out in hunger and searching for their life partners on the hot sands. Three greens, a blue, two more browns, and three bronzes emerged and Impressed one of the candidates standing there.

The candidates were mostly boys, though a few girls stood around too, to Impress the female green dragonets and the single golden queen who had hatched. The candidates were between twelve and seventeen Turns of age and each of them waited eagerly to Impress one of the young dragons, shifting from foot to foot on the hot sand.

Darren was tugging on her sleeve again, indicating they should climb up the ramp to the tiers of seats on the right side of the Grounds where everyone save the candidates were seated. Aurilla caught a glimpse of her mother and father sitting next to S'vril the Weyrharper and farther down on the benches nearest the sand were P'rell and Simona.

She shoved irritably at her brother, indicating he should go and join their parents. For some reason she was drawn towards the middle of the sands, where the rest of the clutch of thirty-two eggs were hatching. Nearly all the eggs had hatched, and the little gold dragon queen had been Impressed by the shy redhead from Seven Seas Hold, who shouted that the new queen's name was Ravannath.

Aurilla felt a sudden pang of envy that she was not standing on the sands waiting to Impress a dragon too. But she was only thirteen and had not thought to ask to be considered for Impression this year. She had been so busy tending her various animal patients and healing other riders' dragons that the thought hadn't even crossed her mind that perhaps she ought to have one of her own. She owned a small canine, a type known as a greyhound, sleek and gentle, called Streak. She had found the dog all torn and bloody after an attack by some gigantic felines, one leg broken and half-dead. Her father had suggested kindly that they ought to put the poor animal out of his misery, but Aurilla refused. "I can save him, Dad. I know I can. Please let me try." And she had, in what had been the most terrific fight of her life. That had been six months ago, and now the canine was fit and healthy and her beloved friend. Though he still walked a bit stiffly on his near fore and had scars from the feline's claws down one side. But Aurilla didn't care. Sometimes it paid to be stubborn.

The last egg had cracked, and a large emerald-colored dragonet staggered about on the sands, crying imperiously. Several boys and girls moved towards it, but the green dragon ignored them, pushing them aside with her wings and small forearms.

Aurilla stared at the green hatchling, noting at once how beautiful she was, with her deep green color and perfectly wedge-shaped head. Her wings were a lighter green and so were her small neck ridges. Her bright eyes whirled with agitation and she opened her mouth and roared indignantly.

Hey! Aren't you listening? I said I'm HUNGRY!

It took Aurilla about half a minute to realize that the demanding voice she heard was in her mind—that the dragonet was speaking to her. She took two uncertain steps forward, wincing as her thin slippers came into contact with the burning sand. Surely she couldn't have heard—?

Don't you care that I'm STARVING here? The little green cried piteously, half-running half-flapping over to her. She caught one of her claws and tripped, falling face first into the sand.

Automatically, Aurilla knelt and helped the green to her feet, holding her head. "Poor baby!" she crooned. "Are you all right?"

I'm fine. And dying of hunger, came the plaintive reply. The dragonet's eyes met hers.

In that instant she felt as if her world had dissolved and reformed about her in a heartbeat. Her new world now was filled with the presence of her wonderful dragon, her soul's companion for now and forever. A part of her that had been lacking had now been filled. She was complete now as never before. Her heart, her mind, was filled with love and the knowledge that here was one who would understand and accept her unconditionally. Overwhelmed, she began to cry, tears trickling down her face to fall on her dragon's upturned snout. "Me? You want me?" she sniffled.

Of course I do. Please don't cry. I love you. My name is Amrianth.

Aurilla hugged the crooning dragon to her and smiled through her tears. "I'm Aurilla. And you need some food now, before you starve to death, I know." She stood up, one arm about the dragon's neck, to find an older rider at her side with a bucket of freshly chopped raw meat. "Good thing I'm not squeamish like some girls," she said to the rider and began feeding her green wonder meat as quick as she could.

More. More. Amrianth said, gobbling chunks as fast as she could.

"Chew it first," Aurilla ordered firmly, taking the same tone with the dragonet as she did with her brother. "You'll choke else. Or throw up."

But I'm so hungry.

"I know. But you need to chew first, okay?" she soothed the ravenous hatchling.

"That's good," approved the rider. "You need to be firm with them at first, else they can overeat. They're like babies, all stomach and impatience. Looks like yours is more demanding than most greens too."

Amrianth swiveled her delicate head and glared at the elder rider. I'm starving, not demanding. My name is Amrianth. Who are you?

The rider grinned. "Not shy are you, little one?" he bent to scratch behind her eye ridges. "My name's B'ren, bronze Varinth's rider." Then he turned to Aurilla. "You're R'lan's daughter aren't you? The one who heals the animals."

"Yes, sir."

"Figured you'd Impress. Anyone who has a talent for healing like you do is needed in the weyr. Congratulations, young lady. Your parents must be real proud."

As if on cue, she heard Darren's voice shouting, "Mom! Dad! Look! Aurilla's Impressed a green! She's a dragonrider!"

She looked up towards the stands and saw her brother waving excitedly. Then she gasped, for her mother and father were laughing and hugging each other, utterly delighted. Then her quiet and soft-spoken father let out a yell that could be heard across Pern and cried, "That's my girl! Way to go Aurilla!"

Aurilla was laughing too. "Thanks, Dad!" she called, then bent to feed her dragon who was crooning impatiently. "Come on, you bottomless pit," she said affectionately, stroking Amrianth's head. "The Weyrlingmaster's calling us. We need to get you settled in the barracks and me too, I suppose. Oh, Shells! My numbweed! I hope Mom remembers I was making it. I wasn't expecting to Impress you know, my sweet."

Is that bad?

"No. Oh no!" she hastily reassured her dragon. "You're the best, most wonderful dragon on Pern and I love you to pieces, Amrianth. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. It's just that I never expected to be a dragonrider and I'm still getting used to it."

What's there to get used to? You are my rider. I am your dragon. I am yours and you are mine, we are one. We belong to each other.

"You're right," Aurilla laughed, kissing her dragon between her eyes. "I can be both healer and dragonrider."

You can be whatever you want. But please, feed me!

Aurilla obeyed, tossing the green another chunk of meat. Little Amrianth reminded her of Darren when he was a baby. He'd always been starving and screaming when he woke up too. She coaxed the dragonet down the corridor to the weyrling barracks, following the other newly Impressed riders. Good thing I know quite a bit about babies already, she thought. For the next few months all she's going to want to do is eat, sleep, and grow. Aurilla began to hum a lullaby as she walked along, the same song her mother used to sing to her and Darren when she rocked them to sleep.

Author's Note: This story is very AU, so please forgive any errors you see in it.