Achieving Perfection
A/N: I don't own Dragonriders of Pern, nor any of its characters, and neither do I own Arolos Weyr. I only own the characters in this fic.
This is not a Sue parody.
I'm sure everyone has dreamed up a perfect situation at some point, and I'm sure that most of us have been let down when we realized the reality.
It's like being a writer; most people want to be famous for writing masterpieces, but they usually don't realize all the work that goes into just getting yourself known. You need agents, editors, and contacts with several publishing companies (in case your first choice rejects your idea), and then you have to plan various things out before they even begin publishing your story.
It's the same with dragonriders. Most people only know them from the Teaching Ballads, and of the sacrifices they make to protect Pern. They probably wouldn't know that dragons' hides are soft because their riders have to oil and bathe them, and it takes time and effort to take care of such a large creature--which is primarily why they need tithes from the Holds.
There are quite a lot of things that the average holders wouldn't know about dragonriders, when you come to think about it. I decided to build on that idea, originally planning to write a Sue parody, but then I realized--normal people want perfection too.
So as I said before: This is not a Sue parody.
-
Chapter One
It was an auspicious day for the dragonriders of Arolos Weyr. The queen Laith's clutch had been laid only two days ago, and the Searchriders had been out looking in the local holds for Candidates. There was no queen egg, which was fine since they had two junior goldriders already, but there were thirty-two perfectly good eggs that needed Candidates.
Currently the dragons were still on the ground, their riders making last-minute decisions or going to their weyrs to check if they'd forgotten anything.
One pair in particular was quite eager to be off. Gisellaine, a greenrider who'd transferred to Arolos a few months ago, was going through a last-minute checklist with her dragon Zedorianth.
Are you sure you don't need oiling right now? It was rather trivial to discuss such a topic when they were just about to go on Search, but it had been almost a sevenday since Zedorianth's last full oiling and her hide felt a bit dry underneath the harness.
Yes, yes, I'm sure! Come ON! I want to Search! The green's mental voice was almost whiny, rather like a child's but endearingly eager nonetheless. Gisellaine sighed.
Fine, but after we get to the Hold I want to hear nothing about how you're itchy. Now, did S'ramol's bronze say anything?
If Gisellaine had been speaking aloud, one would have noticed her faintly maternal tone. She had no intention of actually holding her wing back just for oiling Zedorianth, but it was an almost set-in-stone habit of hers, spawned about half a Turn into their training when the giddiness of the newly-Impressed had worn off.
No, I don't need--! Oh, sorry, Gisellaine. Corelth said we're about to take off. Is my harness all right?
Yes, Zedo, I checked inside and out this morning. It's not going to break any time soon.
Where are we going again?
The Hold. I'll send you an image of the courtyard when we go between.
At S'ramol's signal, the wing leaped into the air. At around a dragonlength above the Bowl, Gisellaine pictured Arolos Hold's courtyard. It was sunny today; that would make light flood the courtyard and illuminate the area, every detail standing out in a golden wash.
Then S'ramol raised his arm in another signal, and the dragons vanished between.
-
Tarie was busy sewing. She didn't like sewing clothes, even if they were her own--it was far too quiet and dull. However, since she'd had nothing else to do today, she didn't exactly have much choice. So she kept one eye on her sewing and let her mind slip into her usual daydream.
There was nothing she dreamed more about than riding on the shoulders of a beautiful golden dragon, fighting Thread like Moreta. She heard the bronzes roar, saw the flames coming from their jaws; just as a clump of Thread came close, she burned it to ash with her flamethrower.
Then, just as one clump came too close to burn, she and her queen winked between in a flash. It was horribly cold, and dark, and lonely, but it was saving her from a far worse fate--and she had her dragon, too, which would be a comfort.
And just as suddenly, they came from between in a burst of light and sound and warmth, and Threadfall ended for the day. She would smile then, as she and the riders had protected Pern for one more day...
Surely being a dragonrider was much more exciting than being a holder.
A sudden stir about the Hold alerted her--Search dragons!
She came out into the courtyard, then stopped in confusion as she saw holders of various ages forming a crowd. Her confusion only grew when the Search dragons were mostly blues and greens, and there was only a single bronze and one brown.
"...girl there if she's young enough?" the bronzerider was saying to Aitra, the headwoman.
"Tarie!" she called out. "You're sixteen, aren't you?"
She nodded as she was ushered into the line by her father. "Father, what's going on?"
"What's going on?" he repeated amusedly. "Tarie, the Weyr's on Search!"
"Really? But... Isn't the Weyrwoman supposed to come? It's her dragon's clutch, isn't it?"
"Marta's too busy looking after Laith," a quiet voice said next to her. Tarie started, then looked around to see a slender woman with brown hair and deep green eyes. The knots on her shoulder clearly marked her status as a dragonrider--as if the green behind her wasn't enough for Tarie to know.
"She's busy?" Tarie asked politely, trying to hide her surprise at the realization that a dragonrider had just spoken to her.
"Yes," the greenrider said. "Very." She turned to her dragon, and her eyes unfocused for a moment as she spoke to the green.
The green peered at Tarie a moment, with whirling green-blue eyes. She sniffed the air around the girl a moment, reminding Tarie of a friendly canine, then bugled as her eyes spun bright blue. Tarie stepped back a little, more at the sudden volume than at the bugle itself.
"Oh, lovely!" The greenrider's face broke into a smile unexpectedly. She looked around, then called, "Hey, S'ramol! This girl's a Candidate!"
"Remember to introduce yourself," was the only reply. At that the rider blinked a moment, then gave a sort of huff.
"Oh. Sorry, I... I think I forgot to introduce myself," she said with a sudden, slight stutter that surprised Tarie. "My name's Gisellaine, and this is my Zedorianth. What's your name?"
"My name is Tarie," she answered, holding her hand out for Gisellaine to shake. "How are you?"
We're fine!
Tarie nodded a moment, then realized that Gisellaine's mouth had not opened. She looked up at the dragon, who aside from looking directly at her showed no signs of anything different.
A dragon had spoken to her. Not only the rider, but the dragon herself. Yet another moment passed as Tarie went through varying emotions, from shock to surprise to utter elation--wouldn't her mother be pleased to find this out!
It's me--Zedorianth! Heedless of whether Tarie was still listening or not, the green continued quite cheerily. How are you today? The weather's sunny, isn't it? Nice for warming up from between, but I like a little more wind because that makes it easier to glide. Gisellaine gets sunburn sometimes, but only when it's REALLY hot at the Weyr--
"Zedo, hush," Gisellaine said firmly, and Tarie heard no other voice in her head. "T... Tarie, was it?" she asked.
"Yes."
"You should go pack now. You can stay a few more days if you like, to tell your relatives, but--shards, Zedo, stop complaining! She'll talk to you later," Gisellaine cut herself off irritably.
"I'll be back right away," Tarie said to the distracted rider, dashing off to get her things.
-
Back in her room, she slowed to think over what had just happened.
Search hadn't been what she'd thought it was, not at all. There'd been only blues and greens, with only a bronzerider and brownrider--why hadn't the Weyrwoman come? Well, Gisellaine had said something about her being too busy...
But it didn't feel right, she thought stubbornly. Weren't riders supposed to be dignified and proud? They'd always seemed that way at Gathers or delivering messages--but then, all the riders she'd seen were bronzeriders, the watch-rider, and the Weyrwoman, and at a distance to boot.
She'd always imagined she'd be handpicked by the Weyrwoman herself, or a bronzerider, or sometimes even a brownrider like the Hold's watch-rider, and whisked away to the Weyr before she'd realized what happened. She didn't expect to be Searched by some greenrider with a stutter, even though Gisellaine did seem polite.
But she certainly hadn't expected a dragon to talk to her! That had been a very pleasant surprise, even if Zedorianth was more cheerful than she'd imagined a dragon would be.
Search itself, though--it was much more routine than she'd thought. She'd had no idea they gathered the children like that--it felt more like getting picked for a game than getting Searched for the queen's clutch.
As she tossed a few clothes into her bag, most of them somewhat formal (she had to make a good impression at the Weyr) she looked over her finer clothes for something she could wear at a Gather. Right when she'd narrowed her choice down to either the red dress or the deep-purple one with the embroidered collar, someone knocked at the door.
"Come in," she said to the person, at which her mother came in.
"Well, Tarie, how do you feel?"
"I don't really know, Mother," she admitted. "I expected something--well, different from this."
"Yes, a real Search tends to surprise people, and you've always loved dramatizing things," her mother replied. "It was a bit fast, too, but I think they've already Searched the other holds. S'ramol said they've already gotten about forty Candidates, so they're going to stop Searching after they get... oh, fifty, fifty-five Candidates."
"Fifty? But there's only thirty-two eggs."
"They have to give the hatchlings some choice, dear," her mother said with mild astonishment. "Surely you don't think every Candidate Impresses?"
"Mother, have you been Searched?" Tarie asked suddenly, realizing that everything her mother had just said was far more than an ordinary holder would know. "How do you know all this?"
"I'm not trained as the headwoman's replacement for nothing, Tarie. I know the basics of Search. Now, finish packing and I'll tell our family the news. You should take your red Gather dress, it suits your hair much better."
With that, and an encouraging squeeze around Tarie's shoulders, her mother left her to finish packing.
Presently, Tarie couldn't help but think one last thought as she packed the red dress more carefully into her bag.
It would have been easier to know that her mother had once been Searched herself. It may have led to some half-forgotten dream of her mother's ("Surely you don't think every Candidate Impresses?") buried under sixteen Turns of life and training as the headwoman's apprentice.
It may have led to a lineage of riders, some great Weyrwoman or Weyrleader that had been in the bloodline, yet kept firmly under the surface of an average holder due to some scandal, or even a darkly heroic or controversial past.
It may have led to a queen dragon in her own future.
-
EDIT, 1-27-09: I've changed all of the mind-speech from my rebellious bold-font to the standard italics. I have no idea why, aside from "This is how Anne McCaffrey does it and I might as well do it to stop people from asking why my dragon-speech is in bold from now on."