Author's Note: Hey readers this is my first attempt at a Pern-based fanfic. I've written several chapters already but I'm editing them again pretty intensely to hopefully eliminate any traces of Mary-Sueness because that would traumatize me beyond belief. Please read and review!

Disclaimer: Pern and all of its concepts belongs to the brilliant and widely talented Anne Mccaffrey. All of the characters and Durnam Hold are mine, please don't use them without permission (would anyone want to? haha)

To Where You Are

Chapter 1

Durnam Hold

After Sunset

Her fingers poised delicately over the strings of the gitar, Callihara kept her eyes on the raised arms of her instructor. The moment his wrists flicked her foot started to tap and her fingers gently and tenderly began to pluck out an arpeggio. Seated on the stool next to her, her friend Saneria joined in with her flute, a high, resonating melody. Right on beat, Bernan's soft drum joined the trio. Closing her eyes, concentrating on the music, with her mind wandering at the same time, Callihara took a measured breath, and began to sing.

It wasn't the largest Gather Calli had ever seen, but it wasn't small either. Somehow, it was the perfect place for Nordam's little trio to debut. The hold was a small subsidiary of Fort, one of the hundreds that seemed to fade in the shadow of Fort's brilliance. Hold Durnam, Calli thought it was called. Nevertheless, the folk were merry, and the pies and other treats were abundantly and outlandishly displayed throughout the Gather. She supposed that the half-pint of fine wine that rolled around in her belly as she sang kept her from being nervous, although she thought that public performance had become almost second nature.

The chatter and bustle of the Gather main floor died down as people stopped to listen to the almost soulful harmonies of the trio of apprentices from Harper hall. There was something about the way the flutist tilted her head as she played, or how the drummer closed his eyes as if he were in a trance, and in the mesmerizing, hauntingly melodic singing of the girl with the gitar. The people watched, somehow sensing the passion that the three apprentices poured into the simple song.

Over the past several turns, Harper Hall had begun to fill up with young, beautiful, and talented sopranos, and there weren't enough arias in all the records in the hall to keep them occupied. Auditions for the annual performance of Moreta's Ride had every soprano in the Hall worked into a frenzy, and there were so many talented singers that the Masterharper had considered skipping that piece for the first time in fifty Turns. So when the quiet, gitar-bearing alto from Ista arrived, no one gave her a second thought.

The bridge of the piece approached and the rhythm stopped with a halt. The audience seemed almost at the edges of their seats, as Bernan struck the drum and then paused, counting his rests with barely twitching lips. Saneria's flute held out a quiet low note, and the gitar's strings continued to sing the last chord Calli had plucked. She continued to sing, quietly, and then building as Bernan's gentle baritone joined her in a harmony. As quickly as it started, the little interlude ended, and the chorus resumed, this time with the baritone part continuing and growing in strength. The power that came from the simple tune was amazing for the journeyman instructor to observe, and he was thankful for Master Menolly and all her catchy tunes. The light little song ended, and the audience breathed in appreciation of the unexpected talent demonstrated by the small trio. Perhaps it was the fine food and wine, or the happy feeling in the air, Calli thought, but she had never expected the audiences to be so appreciative or energetic.

The three apprentices couldn't believe how much the holders were enjoying their music, and Nordam excitedly urged them to continue playing. The trio performed every song in their repertoire, and ended up resorting to some of the more popular Ballads. The crowd was delighted at hearing music they were familiar with, and they encouraged the apprentices to continue with raucous shouts and clapping.

"Cal," Saneria whispered. "I don't think I can play much longer." The flutist looked pale and dizzy. Calli realized that they'd been playing for nearly two hours without a break.

"Let's close with the 'Firelizard Queen,'" Bernan mouthed, and the girls nodded. He started the song with a light drumbeat, and then Saneria's flute played one of the song's recurring motifs. A chord from the gitar, a beat of rest, and Callihara started to sing. As she sang she caught Nordam's eye, and he winked at her, but she could read in his expression that he knew they were all becoming tired and strained. She nodded at him, signaling that this was their final piece. She was disappointed that she was unable to hit and sustain the last C in her chest voice, but the dramatic silencing of the instruments made the gentle ending note seem planned. The trio stood and bowed, and the audience members leapt to their feet. The apprentices wanted to laugh as they knew that musically they were not anything special, and the Harper Hall was full of so much talent and technique that they were unable to see the connection between them that made their music so powerful.

The apprentices were immediately provided with food and drink as the holders passed them, smiling, touching the musicians' arms and pausing to spare a kind word. Saneria ate the richly prepared meat gingerly, cutting small morsels with her utensils. The pretty blond smiled as the rest of the gatherers passed her, but her heart was empty and searching. Her sadness wasn't apparent to everyone, but it lingered in the corners of her mouth, holding back her smile.

Callihara frowned when she saw the restrained, pained look on her friend's face. Her thoughts were diverted from Saneria as she looked up and grinned in spite of herself when Bernan sat down beside her, having returned with a full cask of wine. Without asking, he filled her glass to the brim. Calli couldn't help but laugh.

"Bernan! Are you attempting to intoxicate me?" she asked with mock seriousness. A brief look of guilt flashed across his face before he returned her smile.

"Why Cal, why would I do a thing like that?" He ran his hand coolly through his somewhat shaggy hair. "Hey San, you want some more?"

"Thanks but no thanks, Bernan," she replied, with that faraway look still in her eye. He frowned and shrugged, promptly consuming the rest of the wine.

Journeyman Nordam, the trio's instructor, sat down next to Saneria, just in time to clear his throat in a weak protest against Bernan's almost irreverent consumption of the white Bendan wine. The boy smiled, and turned to speak with Callihara, who was feeling remarkably happier and more flirtatious after several glasses of wine.

"You played fantastically, Saneria," Nordam said, gently touching her wrist.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, as if she hadn't noticed his presence. "Thank you. We all did rather well, I think." She tried to smile, but it was painfully obvious to the Journeyman that something was amiss.

"What's wrong, San? I can't handle not knowing," he said, startling her. He saw her eyes water, and her lip tremble, and he gently took hold of her arm and led her away, talking to her softly.

Bernan nudged Callihara. "Looks like old Nordam's making a move on Sannie."

"Nordam isn't more than twenty! Give the man a break! And he'd better take it easy; Saneria's hurting from something…. I'm not sure what."

"Maybe it's something with that holder lad she was seeing? They're never all she thinks them to be, Sannie's men. She falls too hard for their pretty faces and fancy words. Harpers should stay with Harpers!

"It's more than that, Bern! You boys know nothing of the affairs of the heart," she told him sharply.

"I can learn!" he quipped cheekily. Callihara forgave him, and smiled, taking another quick sip of her drink, savoring the crisp and clean taste of the wine. Bernan put his arm around her shoulder, and she could tell from the purely lucid look in his eye that he was not as drunk as he was pretending to be, and it almost scared her, to think that there was something there that hadn't been there before.

"Stop the act, I know you're not drunk," she whispered, trying unsuccessfully not to smile. He smiled back at her, moving closer. "Now's not the time, or the place for this; we're on a job, by the egg of Faranth!"

He could tell by her weak protests that she didn't want him to stop wooing her, which was exactly and consciously what he was doing. "We're not working any longer, Callihara. Why don't we go elsewhere?" She looked down at her tightly clasped hands, frowning slightly, and then twisted a tight curl around her finger. She nodded, and allowed him to escort her out of the hall and into the starry night.

From the first touch of Nordam's hand on her shoulder, Saneria had started weeping, quietly, almost unnoticeably. He was startled by it, and he led her to the nearest place he could find where she could cry unobserved. Leaning against the wall in the garden, almost hidden from view, she cried against him, her tears falling onto his shoulder. He murmured nothing and everything softly to her, tentatively smoothing her hair with his fingers.

"Stop, stop it, you don't know what you're doing to me," she whispered hoarsely, weakly protesting, begging him to stop with her voice, but clinging to him more desperately.

"No, I don't, San, I don't know what is wrong," he told her, asking her to tell him, letting her know how much it was hurting him to see her like this.

Suddenly, she was no longer the weeping child crying to anyone who would listen, she was sharp and caustic, aware of what he was saying to her. "What the hell are you doing, Nordam? What are you trying to do?" She stopped crying abruptly, disentangling herself from him, her face still only inches away from his.

He shook his head, seeming as if he truly didn't know what he was doing. "I'm sorry, I should have never-, its not my place to- I- I," he muttered, afraid to look at her. When he finally did meet her eyes, he saw that the glare had softened, and her shaky smile had a little of her usual playful edge to it.

"It's all right. I'm sorry I spoke sharply to you, that wasn't my place either," she said, wanting to apologize after she saw him turn pale suddenly.

"No, you were not the one at fault. I beg your pardon," he said, turning and leaving, his hand lingering for just a moment on her shoulder. Watching him walk away, Saneria cursed herself for pushing him away, not understanding why she had done it herself. Slowly, she slid to the ground and began to cry again, resting her tear-streaked face against her knees.

Callihara allowed Bernan to hold her hand and talk to her, but she wasn't listening very attentively to what he was saying. In fact, he wasn't even listening closely to himself, and she felt his palm began to sweat against of hers, and his fingers twitched almost convulsively. Stopping his speech with a wave of her hand, she turned and looked at him. Smiling coyly, she asked, "Lost your confidence, have you? We didn't come up here to talk about breeds of runner beasts."

He blushed, running his hand unconsciously through his sandy hair. "No, we didn't." They'd almost thoughtlessly climbed up to the heights where the messaging drums were located, and Calli sat on the window ledge of the highest point, her back resting against the frame, one leg flung carelessly over the side, oblivious of the two hundred foot drop below. "Just look at me for a moment, Cal." She turned and smiled sweetly at him, unaware of how in that moment, he was dying inside. He knew that whatever she thought that he felt for her, it was so much stronger and enduring than the crush she imagined that he had on her. He, in his young heart, was totally and completely in awe of her, and he desperately wanted her to know how he felt. The wine that had emboldened him and calmed his nerves before had disappeared, and he was left with nothing but his own courage to aid him. Everything about her, from her warm gray eyes to her pearly white skin, her wry smile and her infectious laughter, the way she danced, sang, breathed, even. He was in love with her, the most love his inexperienced heart had ever felt, and he could not go on living without her knowing.

Callihara watched him look at her, and saw the slight quickening in his breathing in the rapid rise and fall of his chest. She thought that it was so sweet, and she liked him, hoping that he would kiss her, but unaware that he felt so much more than a passing affection, which she didn't doubt could grow into something more. "Could I fall in love with Bernan?" Callihara asked herself as she looked at him. "I daresay that I could."

"Callihara, it's just that-, everything about you is-, I mean that when we're together-, what I want to say is that, Cal, I think I'm in… whoa!" Bernan's last exclamation was torn from his stuttering mouth as the tower suddenly shook violently, stealing away the important words and romantic moment from the boy.

Calli screamed as she slipped off the ledge with the force of the tremor and fell over the side of the wall, one arm flailing behind her, but touching only thin air, her legs scraping painfully against the rock of the wall. Instinctively, Bernan tightened his hold on her hand and caught her, breathing heavily as he slipped over the edge himself, his feet coming up off the ground as he reached for her other hand. Callihara made the mistake of glancing over her shoulder to the ground below, and she almost screamed again as she became suddenly aware of her own mortality and how near she was to falling. Instead of crying out like every inch of her wanted to, Calli tightened her resolve and her grip on Bernan's hand.

"I've got you, Calli," he shouted, over the screams of the Gatherers below as they looked up to see the girl dangling precariously from the tower, although it was obvious to Calli and to the Gatherers that he was losing his grip on her hand. She met his eyes, wanting to trust him, but she saw so clearly that another tremor like the one that had sent her tumbling over the wall would knock Bernan over as well. She bit her lip, sticking her toe into the side of the wall for leverage, and tried to help him pull her up. She strained, pushing as hard as she could with her legs, her thighs burning with exertion but she slipped again and again, unable to find a foothold, and the sweat on both their hands making it hard to hold on. The shaking of the tower had increased to an almost constant shudder, which was growing gradually in strength, making it impossible for Bernan to anchor himself and pull her up.

"Bern," Calli began, biting her lip against the pain in her arm, "Maybe you'd best let go. We're going to both be pulled over if you don't."

"Are you crazy? I'd rather die!" he exclaimed, holding on to her tighter. He heard someone scream hysterically from the ground.

"Those are my friends! Someone do something!" It was Saneria, screeching with all her might, almost making him smile.

They clung to each other still, Calli's legs scraping ineffectively against the wall and Bernan trying to pull her up unsuccessfully, gaining an inch, and then slipping down more as the tower shuddered. Then it shuddered again, not stopping after several seconds, but growing in strength.

"Hey Bern?"

"Yeah, Cal?"

"I think this is it."

"Don't say that."

"Tell San goodbye for me, ok?"

"What are you saying?" he asked frantically, reaching for her with renewed fervor.

She smiled sadly, tears in her eyes, and then tore his fingers out from around her wrist violently with her free hand, sending herself into a sickening fall towards the ground below, her skirts bellowing out behind her.

"Callihara, NO!" he screamed in absolute horror, still reaching uselessly after her, until he was thrown against the side of the wall as the worst tremor of the earthquake shook the tower. "Why did you let go?"

Calli fell for what seemed like an eternity, listening to Bern's scream fading away, and then felt herself slamming into warm but rough arms before she slipped into blackness.

The dragon and rider burst out of between and flew under the tower, and the rider caught the falling girl instinctively in his arms and held her tightly to his chest. Careful, Perlath. Watch out for the tower, dearest.

I have it quite under control, the dragon snorted in his mind-voice. Oryoth was right to call us. The girl would have died.

I know. No one could have survived that drop.

There is a boy on top of the tower, J'ren.

Tell one of the others to fetch him before it collapses. We should be able to keep it from collapsing, the rider said hopefully, as the bronze dragon told one of the dragons from his wing to rescue the boy.

The girl wakes, Perlath remarked, as he circled, unable to find a place to set down among the panicking crowds.

She stirred in J'ren's arms, moaning quietly. "Bernan…" she whispered, half-awake and seemingly in shock. She shook her head sharply, and tried to sit up, gasping as she opened her eyes and found herself flying in the air. She looked at J'ren and sighed in relief. "For a moment I thought that I had died!"

"Are you all right?" He asked her, amazed at the interest in her eyes as she peered over his shoulder and to the ground below.

"Yes, thank you for saving me," she said, shaking a little bit, despite herself, and the calmness in her voice. "My name is Callihara. My friend is still on top of the tower," she said, pointing out to where Bernan had been.

"He's been attended to," the rider told her. "Are you sure that you are quite all right?"

"Yes, sir. I was prepared to die, though." He looked at her questioningly. "Bern will be so angry with me." She shook her head and told the rider what had happened. "He was trying to pull me back up, but I knew that if another tremor like the first occurred we would both die. So I made him let go when I saw that there was no other choice," she said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. J'ren looked stunned, and she frowned, realizing a faux pas. "I'm sorry, I don't believe I've asked you your name, or your dragon's."

It was his turn to shake his head at the shuddering but still collected girl that he held in his arms. Then he grinned. "I'm J'ren of Fort Weyr. My dragon's name is Perlath." He smiled again. "Have you ever been on a dragon before?"

"No, sir. And I didn't think that it would happen like this!" she exclaimed.

"You've been very brave, Miss Callihara," J'ren told her, still shocked that she was so matter-of-fact about sacrificing herself to save her friend.

There's something about this girl, J'ren, Perlath told him. She's very strong, and brave. She'd make a good rider.

Truly? I was beginning to think that myself.

Only a dragon can tell who a good rider will be, J'ren. He paused, as if pondering something. And you are clearly not a dragon.

J'ren laughed aloud. Clearly! He realized that the girl was looking at him quizzically, and he quickly explained that his dragon had been speaking to him telepathically.

"I know that. We've some fire lizards at the Harper Hall, and they're like dragons, in a way, although they are certainly not as intelligent as Perlath."

"Excuse me for asking, but how do you know how intelligent Perlath is?" he asked her, his voice rising in question.

"Because of how he speaks, of course," she replied becoming shy and less sure of herself, her exhaustion apparent on her pale face.

You didn't tell me you were speaking to her!

Why shouldn't I speak to her? She is afraid, and she listens to me!

"I'm sorry, Callihara, I didn't know that he was speaking to you. Sometimes dragons talk to other folk, but not all the time," he said, not wanting her to know how rare an occasion like that was. "I think we can land now, and you can go see your friend." At his command, Perlath spread his wings and landed gracefully in the middle of the courtyard, which was possibly too small of an area for a bronze of his size.

"Thank you again, J'ren," Calli said, calling him by his name, and gripping his hand as he helped her down.

"It was my pleasure, Callihara," he said and winked before leaping back onto his dragon.

"Calli!" She turned, and saw Bernan limping towards her, shallow cuts sprinkled over his skin, and tears streaming down his face.

"Bernan!" Calli ran towards him, and he caught her up in his arms, and cried into her hair, until she started to cry too.

"Scorch it, Calli! I thought you were…" he sobbed, pulling away to look at her.

"I'm sorry, Bern, I didn't want you to fall too!"

"I would have died even if I hadn't fallen. I couldn't have lived if you didn't." He looked into her eyes with such intensity that Callihara suddenly realized what had almost occurred and what she could have lost. Bernan put his hand on her neck, and then raised it to her cheek, stroking the soft skin with his thumb as she gazed back at him. Then he took a breath and kissed her deeply but gently, his fear, concern, and affection for her pouring out into the kiss, which she returned with passion. In the heat of the moment, their emotions ran high, and Callihara felt like she would love him forever. "I love you, Cal."

She couldn't reply, tears coming again to her eyes and a sob rising in her throat, and she cried into his shoulder, her hands at the back of his neck, touching his tousled hair. Holding her to him tightly, he kissed her forehead, her neck, her hair, making sure that she was still there, that she was real, and that she knew what her death would have done to him.

"Callihara, Bernan!" They looked up from one another and saw Saneria running towards them, the Journeyman close behind. The four hugged each other and cried, and as J'ren and Perlath went between, his last thought was regret that he would never see her again.