A Pern-Flavored "Night Before Christmas"

A/N
The original poem "A Visit from St. Nicholas" by Clement C. Moore is well-known. Here's a variation for every devotee of Pern.

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through my house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even my spouse.
The gifts were all laid 'neath the tree with great care –
The Xbox, the iPhone, with plenty to spare.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of MineCraft worlds danced in their heads.
My mate was worn out after all that gift-wrap,
But I was too stressed for a long winter's nap.

I'd just finished "All the Weyrs" there in my bed,
And Robinton's end left my poor heart in shreds.
"He's not a real person!" I tried to rehash,
When sounds from outside made me move like a flash.

The moon (there was only one) gave off its glow
And cast subtle shadows on objects below,
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a flight of eight dragons – I saw them quite clear,

With a leader commanding them in from afar;
I knew at a glance that it had to be F'lar.
Like Ruathan runnerbeasts, quickly they came,
And they chewed on some firestone so they could make flame.

"On Mnementh! On Ramoth! On Ruth and on Canth!
"On Orlith and Carenath, Path and Golanth!
"From the Bowl and the Star Stones, our home in the Weyr,
"Now fly away, go between, fly away here!"

As wherries, when they see a dragon nearby,
Will take off and flee for their lives with a cry,
So up to the house-top, the dragons, they flew
With their riders all strapped in, and passengers, too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard from above
The sounds on the roof of the dragons I love.
As I wondered, confused, but with hope quite sincere,
The riders trooped down from my attic to here.

They wore flying-leathers from heads to their feet.
The faint smell of dragons made outfits complete.
I recognized Lessa and Jaxom and F'nor,
Moreta, Sean Connell and F'lar, and some more.

Here's F'lessan and Mirrim, and some they're befriendin' –
Menolly and Brekke and Admiral Paul Benden
And Sallah, Nerilka, and Piemur with drum.
But what were they doing here? Why did they come?

"We knew we'd be welcome here," F'lar said at last.
"You're one of the few who has read of our past
"And never grew tired; you finish our tale
"And then you reread it again without fail."

"We came," Lessa added, "because we had plans
"To thank and encourage our most faithful fans.
"Although it is Christmas, we've nothing to give
"But thanks – while you're reading about us, we live."

And then, from behind them, I'd quickly discern,
Stepped a man I knew well – Masterharper of Pern!
He had his gitar; he looked healthy and fine,
And he took a quick sip of some Benden red wine.

My knees turned to jelly; I started to kneel,
To show him the love and regard that I feel.
He smiled and he gestured at me with his hand.
He wanted no worship; he bade me to stand.

"Don't mourn me," he said in his voice Harper-trained.
"I'm flattered that you were so moved," he explained.
"To things, there are seasons; I've found this is real.
"My passing was sad, but it's not a done deal."

"I have one advantage o'er people like you:
"My life will return if you read it anew.
"In that sense, my days and my songs never end,
"So never forget me, dear Pern-loving friend."

I promised I wouldn't; I shook all their hands
And wished them safe travel between to their lands.
They left as I stood there and pondered the truth.
Merry Christmas, I heard in my head. Was that Ruth?

I heard them climb onto their dragons, strap in,
And take off so fast that it made my head spin.
But Menolly exclaimed, ere they winked out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all! Keep on reading! Good night!"