A/N: Hello all. This is a poem I came up with. This is the final draft. Note on emphasis: I am assuming that Ruath or Ruatha has emphasis on the second syllable. That's the way I always pronounced it. This is a one shot. Do not expect updates. Hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Disclaimer: The Dragonriders of Pern is copyrighted by Anne McCaffrey. This is fan fiction which garners NO MONEY OR MATERIAL COMPENSATION WHATSOEVER for the author.
Small egg upon the Hatching sands,
Such as these don't break shell,
A fledgling lord sat in the stands
By warder trained too well.
Across the sands ignoring heat
To the small egg he ran.
He kicked the egg with booted feet
And took his knife in hand.
Two knife hilt strikes upon the shell,
The egg cracked with great sound.
From which a small white dragon fell,
The boy his lifemate found.
He was a lord of minor age
Though dragon he impressed,
But he had no kin to take stage
To rule Ruatha best.
The Lords of Holds sought to restrict
The young Lord to the Weyr,
But this would cause men to conflict,
with blood duels far and near.
For Hold Ruath must have a Lord,
Or chaos would ensue
That would not heed a harper's chord;
Throw order all askew.
The dragon said his name was Ruth,
They said he'd die a turn,
His warder argued that the youth
Must to Ruath return.
For when the little dragon died,
He must have cause to strive.
For with the dragon bond denied
The rider might not thrive.
But little Ruth surprised them all
Though half-sized he would be,
But even with his stature small
His mind was great to see.