This is a sequel, if you will, to Mara's Story, which will also be updated as my muses dictate. If you have trouble accepting a female brown rider, try reading Mara's Story first; maybe then it will be a bit more realistic (in a Pernese fashion).
Disclaimer: Pern still isn't mine. If it was I wouldn't have to listen to other people reminding me that it isn't. I have borrowed some of Anne McCaffrey's wonderful characters and sincerely hope I'm causing no damage to their reputations.
Rated T for later suggestive mating scenes, both dragon and human.
Mara was ecstatic! Flying Thread in a fighting wing for Benden Weyr was more invigorating than almost anything she could imagine (her weyrmate being the only notable exception). She and brown Klamath had been the first in her weyrling class to be assigned to a true fighting wing. Her biggest shock had been the wingleader who had chosen her; she had been certain from the time they first met that he despised her in every way, and even more so since she impressed a big, beautiful, and strong brown dragon.
In the two months since joining this wing, Mara and Klamath had moved steadily up from the lowest and safest position in the wing to their present position; now, after just two months, they flew with the majority of the other browns of the wing. Most of her class now flew in the fighting wings; one had become pregnant and flew with the golds only near Benden, and one had been too young and was currently apprenticing at Fort Hold's Healer Hall.
She and Klamath were one being, a Thread fighting unit. She knew his next move before its execution, he knew her thoughts even as they were born, she felt his muscles adjust to the currents, he felt her adjust to each of his movements, and she felt his need for firestone even as he did. Their telepathic and empathic connection was nothing special among dragonriders, though the level of their connection could have been compared with the most experienced of riders. From the time of impression, both dragon and rider had shared an enthusiasm for learning about, from, and with each other. Their enthusiasm had often caused problems in weyrling training; their excitement in learning had often resulted in their being first to achieve and even perfect most tasks.
As Klamath scorched yet another small clump of Thread understandably missed by those above, Mara reached into the two sacks of firestone draped across his back before her knees. As Klamath turned his head back to her, even as he coasted back into their assigned position, Mara tossed first one then the other piece into his open mouth while keeping her eyes on the sky ahead and above them. Another reach into the sacks and two more tosses, and Klamath turned his furiously working muzzle back forward as he veered up and right for the clump Mara had sighted.
They seldom bespoke each other during Thread fall, both preferring to listen to all the other dragons in the flight. Mara had also been tasked by the Weyrleader himself with keeping her 'ears' open for anything he should be aware of, from riders as well as dragons. Ever since actively listening to people just prior to impressing Klamath, she had never been able to completely push back the thoughts of other people, so had come to terms with the volatile extremes and inconsistencies that could present themselves in any human's supposedly private thoughts. To preserve her own sanity, she had learned rather quickly to ignore most of those thoughts; an angry or wicked thought often seemed to cool a person's temper, and a lustful thought was often nothing more than ancient animal instinct usually ignored even by the thinker.
Be alert! Mnementh alerted all the dragons. The air is warming. Clumps are breaking up at higher altitude. And winds are increasing.
Mara heard the great bronzes' warning; Klamath knew it so did not repeat the message as other dragons would need to for their riders. Mara was one of three currently at Benden Weyr who could hear all the dragons; Lessa, the weyrwoman, and Brendeen, a junior weyrwoman-in-training were the other two fortunate riders.
Brown dragon and rider listened patiently as each of the other dragons relayed the warning, and notified their wingleaders that the message had been received. They listened as well as most dragons requested more firestone, and Mara listened as riders soothingly obliged their life-mates.
Mara and Klamath both heard one dragon ask more pleadingly for more firestone. Mara heard the rider refuse, his exact thought being 'We'll get her this time.' She looked up and ahead toward the left, where B'rand and Tagamarth had been moved just last fall.
In less time than a single heartbeat from start to finish, she saw bronze Tagamarth, eyes orange and red, head turned back to his rider, hit by a sheet of writhing, windblown Thread. They blinked into between even as Tagamarth screamed, and the sheet of Thread that hit the bronze straight-on now blew over her and Klamath.
Mara, out of some ridiculously insane instinct, leaned forward in an attempt to protect her huge brown dragon. They were both hit with Thread even as she thought Home, now, love!
The burn of the acid Thread was brief. The cold of between killed the burn, but not the sensation of pressure caused by skin no longer where it should have been. When they blinked out of between high over Benden Weyr, both felt the pain of destroyed nerves just below what had once been skin level. Both let out slow pained groans.
We need to go back! Klamath was adamant.
Mara did a quick assessment of their conditions and found no damage below skin level. Firestone?
Please.
Mara fed him more firestone as they glided, both admiring the beauty of their home far below, both wishing they could go to their weyr, both knowing work still had to be done.
Ready! said Klamath.
Two lengths back. Let's go, then!
The cold of between, this time, numbed even the aching nerves now exposed to the void. Mara quickly squelched a desire to stay a bit longer, resolutely holding her last vision of their position in her mind's eye.
They blinked out of between two dragon-lengths behind their last position. Mara noticed a void in the sheet of Thread before them and knew they would be scolded again, if anyone else noticed; the void was dragon shaped, just about Klamath's size, and had not dissipated at all in the very short time they had been gone.
Duck! Klamath raised his long neck and began flaming the sheet of Thread that had nearly engulfed them both. As his flame sputtered, he dove down, back, around and back up to very near his last flame. A new breath drawn, he flamed again. He continued this maneuver until the sheet was almost nonexistent and they flew far too close to the blue beneath them.
Can you handle the rest, Simoneth? Mara seldom used her ability to bespeak dragons during Threadfall, but this seemed an appropriate use.
Yes. T'mith and I thank you both.
Mara! All wingleaders had been trained in the use of telepathy, but their wingleader was one of the most capable.
Yes, sir!
You and Klamath take B'rand's position.
Yes, sir! Moving up another position should have brought pride, but Mara felt only anger, which she quickly moved to the back of her mind in order to focus more intently on the job at hand.
Flying in a bronzes' position would have been taxing on almost any other brown, but Klamath took it in stride. He was nearly as big as the bronzes in his class and could outperform any of them. Weyrlingmaster L'ret had teased that the oil she used on his hide affected his mentality. Mara and Klamath both knew otherwise; they each had a burning desire to be among the very best at Benden Weyr and practiced every free waking moment they could.
The remainder of fall was mostly uneventful. A few recent graduates suffered minor scores and were sent back to Benden. One more experienced blue rider jarred his shoulder while catching a sack of firestone, but there were no more major injuries. Mara knew from her listening that Tagamarth would recover quickly and that B'rand had been untouched.
As fall ended, Mara's anger resurfaced. As her wing descended into Benden's bowl, the wingleader directed her and Klamath to land near the healers still set up near the western wall.
Keep your wings spread, my love. The healers will tend them for you.
Their landing was almost flawless.
Mara removed her full face mask and tossed it down to a waiting weyrling with a grateful nod. She deftly caught a large covered pot of numbweed tossed up from one of the healers, opened it, and began slathering the top of Klamath's neck and ridges. He had been flaming downward when they were hit, so only a small portion of his neck had been scored.
Long tables were quickly moved to just under the leading edges of her brown's wings and healers began applying numbweed to the small scores there.
Mara unfastened her riding straps and spun around to cover Klamath's back. He had only taken Thread to about midway down his back, so she was able to reach most of it. Another healer expertly walked along his ridges from a ladder near his tail to treat what Mara couldn't reach.
When she felt no more pain from her beloved Klamath, Mara tossed the pot of numbweed to waiting hands below and slid to the ground.
I have something I need to care of, Klamath.
Hit him once for me, beautiful.
Several healers approached as Mara hit the ground. One reached out a hand to take her arm. "Your turn, rider" he smiled.
Mara snatched her arm away from the young man. "Not right now." On seeing fear in the youngster's face, she closed her eyes and forced a smile. "Thank you all for your kind help with Klamath."
He reached out again, but she avoided his grasp. "Not . . . right . . . now." She pushed her way through the others. "Excuse me, please."
The angry brown rider removed her gloves and tried to stow them in her recently finished belt; it broke, so she let it fall to the ground along with her gloves. She found B'rand as he was walking toward the main cavern of the weyr, riding harness in his arms. "B'rand!" she bellowed as she strode resolutely in his direction. Other riders between them cleared a path, but Mara could only see the person who had caused her beautiful Klamath to be scored by Thread.
B'rand stopped in his tracks. He belligerently threw his dragon's harness to the ground before turning around, wearing a smug smile. "Yes, brown rider?"
Mara never slowed down. Her hands wrapped themselves into the shoulders of his riding tunic and she threw him to the ground, kneeling over him as they both landed with a thud. "How dare you refuse to feed your dragon firestone?" She lifted his upper body with her hold on his tunic and slammed him to the ground again. "How dare you risk my Klamath?" She lifted and slammed again. "How dare you risk all the riders and dragons below your position?"
Bronze rider B'rand's smugness soon changed to fear and then to righteous anger. He managed to grab her wrists and tried to push her off - with no effect. "Get off me, woman!" Fear returned quickly.
Mara laughed. "I'll bet you've heard that a few times." She lifted and slammed again.
B'rand, unable to budge the woman holding him down, began frantically looking from side to side. Riders of all ranks were standing around, watching. He grew more angry and frightened and tried to knee her in the back.
She slammed him again.
He tried swinging at her face. His arms weren't long enough. "GET OFF ME, YOU BEAST!"
Mara, with a ferocious scowl contorting her face, let go with her right hand, slowly lifted a fist into the air and slammed it down to the ground next to his face.
He squealed in terror.
Riders and others standing around the pair laughed as B'rand flailed arms and legs trying to remove the highly agitated large woman from his pinned much lighter frame.
B'rand started pleading. "Get her off me! Please! Get her off me!" And then inspiration struck, or so he thought. "GET THIS SHARDING UGLY HERD BEAST OFF ME!" He realized his judgment error almost instantaneously.
The crowd collectively gasped and then went silent. The scowl on Maras' face became a hate filled, victorious, hissing snarl. As she raised her fist into the air again, B'rand screamed and closed his eyes.
Mara was oblivious to anything but the smug little man she had pinned to the ground. She could feel Klamaths' presence, observing passively with a tinge of angry humor. She was amazed at the surge of power she was feeling. It felt so good! Was this what her sire had felt when he so often hit her and her brothers? She raised her fist a second time to put this tiny insect out of its misery. But something stopped her. Someone was holding her arm and stretching it skyward. How dare they? She roared in fury. "Aaaggghhh!" Her left hand now clenched into a fist, she pushed off the ground and began to swing at her holder. Almost too late, she recognized Weyrleader F'lar. How could he be such a fool? She stopped her swing and roared again. "Aagghh!" And then noticed he was saying something. She lowered her left fist to her side and glowered at him. How dare he? And then she found herself wondering 'what's he saying?' She took a deep breath through flared nostrils and, with teeth tightly clenched, let it out as slowly as she could manage.
F'lar caught her wrist on her deliberately slow and purposefully melodramatic up-swing. He was amazed at the strength of this woman. She had lost a great deal of her bulky muscle during her first year of weyrling training, but what muscle remained was surprisingly efficient. He was fiercely determined that she not see him strain to hold her wrist. He bellowed "Enough!" When she roared and began an up-swing with her left arm, he bellowed again. "Mara!" He refused to defend himself, holding her wrist steady in front of his chest. She wouldn't dare strike her weyrleader, he hoped. When she stopped her swing and roared again, with less vehemence, he bellowed one more time. "I said enough!" As she slowly lowered her still clenched fist to her side, he couldn't help but notice that bronze rider B'rand was crying like a baby beneath the two of them. Maintaining strong eye contact with her, he ordered the bystanders "Get him to the healers!" His legs were kicked several times as the crying man fought those trying to help him. When she took a deep breath and let it out a little too quickly, he shook her wrist and spoke to her more quietly, but with just as much authority. "Enough, Rider!" Her chin lifted in defiance, but she took another breath and let it out more slowly. Her challenging glare waivered just slightly. After several heartbeats, she slowly opened the fist he held between them. Her chin lowered, but wide eyes maintained their glare.
Mara stared at her weyrleader. Now, what was she supposed to do? She had never been so angry in all her thirty-three turns. She never knew so much anger was even possible! So, now what? Apologize? Not a chance! That fool had risked far more than just her and Klamath. He deserved far worse that what she had been about to deliver. But, then there was poor Tagamarth. It wasn't his fault his rider was such a thoughtless dead-glow. But he wasn't a dead-glow; he had planned this! How long had he been planning and waiting for the chance to do this? How long had he been hiding his hatred of Mara from everyone in the Weyr? Mara knew he was an angry young man, but how had she missed this? She blinked long and hard trying to think. And then F'lar's grip loosened. She opened her eyes and concentrated on what he was saying.
"Is this over, now?"
"This is far from over, sir!" Her eyes were nearly level with his.
F'lar remembered too late that she had a very literal mind, so chose a different question. "Do you have control of yourself?"
Mara took a deep breath, trying to steady the adrenalin induced shaking that was quickly overtaking all her muscles. She let that breath escape slowly through her nose, and took another more shallow breath. As her breathing became more regular, she felt the shaking dissipate, and was finally able to answer with honesty. "Yes, Weyrleader." She bowed her head more deeply than she would normally like, and allowed her eyes to fall to his chest.
"Good! Now, go to the healers." He pushed her wrist toward her shoulder, causing her to turn back in the right direction.
"Klamath?" She turned wide, now frightened eyes to her now smiling weyrleader's eyes. Had she lost contact with her life-mate?
"No, rider." He clapped a hand none too gently onto her nearly bare back. "You, go see the healers!"
A quick intake of air brought back her memory as her eyes scanned the sky for clouds. A slow release of that air caused a very long "Oooohhhhh" as one foot tried to move forward. Quick hands from nearby riders kept her on her feet and headed in the right direction.
"Causing trouble again, are you little brown rider?" Wingleader F'nor could be so irritatingly patronizing sometimes.
Mara turned her head to the condescending man holding her nearly bare arm. "Oh, that hurt." And then the bareness of her arm hit her consciousness. "Where's my riding tunic?" A low bass rumble from her other side caused her head to turn, but she couldn't hold it up just yet, so did notice that the front of her tunic was still in place.
"You left almost half of it between with the Thread that ate it!"
"Oh." She managed to look up at her loving, but not currently amusing weyrmate. "That was a new tunic, G'raden!"
F'nor laughed from her other side. "And that's why most of us don't put fancy stitching on our fighting tunics, little brown rider!"
Mara, not willing to turn her head again, scowled instead at her tall grinning weyrmate.
G'raden rumbled again, even as concern bathed his eyes. "Here we are, Mara. Have a seat."
"Where?"
"Just bend your knees, love. We won't let you fall."
"Oh. Right." She did as instructed and landed on a stool. Cold goop near the base of her spine helped her to sit straight up.
G'raden chuckled as he sat on another stool in front of her, his legs straddling her knees. "It's all right, love. Most of your beauty is still covered."
One half of Mara's mouth went up as her brow furrowed in disbelief and embarrassment. Klamath, dear? Are you all right?
I'd feel much better if you had hit him.
"Oh." Bits and pieces of her rage induced attack began replaying in her memory. Another glob of cold goo slopped those memories and consciousness away.
G'raden chuckled again as he caught and held her under her arms, and guided her head to rest on his shoulder.
"Hmph" said F'nor. "Guess I'll have to find someone else to help with the weyrlings after noon meal." When G'raden only laughed, he grew more serious. "Take her home, if they'll let you. She did a good job this day, far better than I ever expected."
"I'll let her know."
"Don't you dare! I'll tell her . . . when the time is right." He changed the subject quickly. "Who's taking care of your wing, G'raden?"
"Not our rotation this day, and you did such a good job, we weren't even needed for backup. My seconds can handle the rest of this day."
"Hmph." F'nor scanned G'raden's face like a proud father might scan his son's. He clapped a hand on the younger rider's free shoulder. "Good job, G'raden."
G'raden had no trouble smiling sincerely at his long-time defender. Until two turns ago, he had undergone quite a bit of teasing for even bringing G'raden to Benden Weyr. Two turns ago, though, G'raden had found the missing pieces that finally made him a complete dragonrider and a complete man. "Thanks to you, F'nor." The man before him deserved all his thanks and so much more.
F'nor grunted, but smiled as he briefly ran a hand over Mara's sweat-plastered wavy hair. "She really is a phenomenon."
G'raden raised his brows suggestively. "Yes, sir!"
Wingleader F'nor's laughter could be heard throughout the Weyr. Wingleader T'men, bathing his bronze Reyuth, stopped to lean against his beloved life-mate. I really dislike the thought of leaving Benden Weyr.
As do I, but . . . Reyuth didn't finish his thought, but crooned at his rider's laughter.
Hope you enjoyed it! More excitement to come!
As always, reviews provide motivation!