Disclaimer: I don't own the world of Pern. I do, however own many of the characters in this story.

Wheel and turn

Or bleed and burn;

Fly between

Blue and green!

Soar up, dive down,

Bronze and brown!

All dragonriders fly

When Thread is in the sky.

Chapter Seven: First Flight

The order came after two more sevendays for Yria and Diaath to fly the next Threadfall, about a day later. The young woman was ecstatic; she would prove what women could do. Oh, sure, the queens got to fly Thread, and Mirrim with her green Path, but never in the history of Pern had a brown with a female rider battled Thread!

For Yria, the true triumph would come when she at last could feed her dragon fire stone, and see the silver strands shrivel under Diaath's scorching breath, and show the doubters of Pern that she was a true dragonrider. Sh'voal was happy for her and told her, though he wished he could be in her wing with her to see her face when her dragon let loose the first belch of flame that could make a difference to the survival of the world and its people.

000

Slowly, silently the Fall began. Yria waited on her brown, having just fed him several globs of fire stone. In a sudden movement the wings moved forward, and each dragon belched out the flaming gasses to shrivel the silvery Thread. Diaath roared as his patch disintegrated, and both he and his rider grinned recklessly to see the ancient enemy fall as harmless char.

As the brown ducked a large clump of Thread a bronze dragon swooped down to singe it. Yria gave Diaath more fire stone, and he flamed at a very small patch. Time and again she fed the stone; time and again her dragon flamed; time and again they maneuvered swiftly through the Fall. Hours passed, and Yria began to think that this was not quite as exciting as she had presumed it would be, when a burning pain seared through Yria's arm. Diaath roared as the rest of the Thread that had scored her buried itself in his wing. Instantly they were between, then above Benden.

The brown dragon cried piteously as they awkwardly landed, and Yria jumped of his neck to see the injury. A woman came rushing toward her, two small pots of numbweed in her hands. She gave one to Yria, and then slathered the affected wing from her own and the female rider nodded her thanks and set to work on her own.

She reassured Diaath, who had yet to stop keening, telling him that it didn't seem bad, that the numbweed would take away the pain. Another woman came with bandages and the three of them fixed the brown's wing. "I don't think he'll be able to fly for a while, Yria. At least four sevendays, maybe more. Wing skin is awful to re grow, and the Tread nicked the bone deeply to; that will take even longer." Teal told the eighteen-Turn-old dragonrider; it was she who had brought the numbweed. "And you're scored yourself! Here, let me put some salve on that." Which she did.

Avaelath crooned anxiously when she saw her weyrmates' wounds, her eyes whirling. Sh'voal had nearly the same expression on his face when he checked to see that his own weyrmate was all right. He had the attitude of a dragon on her first clutch, and Yria told him so dryly that he had to grin. The green rider kept asking to see if she was alright.

In the end, it was a good thing that the double weyr now shared by Diaath and his weyrmate and their riders was very close to the ground and the Bowl; the flightless dragon had less far to go to reach his food, escorted by a worried green with two aboard. He had some trouble getting fast enough on the ground to grab his food, but eventually he mastered it, though he still preferred to hover-and-snatch rather than run-and-claw-down.

000

It was a matter of pride to Yria that she didn't ride any dragons besides Avaelath and her own brown. Besides, she stayed in Sh'voal's weyr most of the time now, and didn't need to go anywhere a-dragonback, and especially between. Between was the coldest place known, able to cause voluntary or involuntary abortions to women who rode dragons, so it was not the shock it could have been, when Yria stayed in the weyr even after Diaath's wing finally healed, she said to give him time re-train the wing.

After a month in the weyr, Yria called for the weyrhealer, who told her she was pregnant with Sh'voal's child.