An update after a long, dry period. Life gets in the way, sometimes. Thank you for the lovely comments, though. I hope to continue this story on and off for a long time. It's not as if we can run out of Pern sidestories, right? Now, random comments:

1) One of my favorite things about Pern is the way technology collides with the whole pastoral, pseudo-medieval fantasy thing. Not that Anne ever lied to us about Pern origins, what with her intro, but All the Weyrs of Pern really rocked my socks.

2) As for the Hunger Games, yes, I did go there, just a little bit. It isn't a crossover so much as a shared universe. Maybe "muttations" are possible because of the Eridani. Maybe so much time has passed on Earth - and many catastrophic whatnots, regeneration of the developed land, loss of contact with other planets- that the Hunger Games and the Ninth Pass are happening AT THE SAME TIME.

Now, I don't really believe that- there are too many reasons why that shouldn't be. But it would also be awesome. Anyway, all that because I wondered what songs Menolly could Aivas-google.

3) Also, what the heck is Pierjan? Male or female? Do we even know?

Title: Rewriting History, or Why Rewriting Moreta's Ride Is Harder Than Fixing a Wikipedia Article

Author's Notes: Takes place after the death of Aivas, but before The Skies of Pern.

"Hey, Menolly!" Piemur's call was muted equally by the dividing corridor of the Aivas building as well as Menolly's general inattention. After all, it was a rare day that she had any free time, let alone the opportunity to scamper down to the Southern Continent to sort through Aivas's archives.

"Menooooollly."

"Me-no-lly."

"MENOLLY!"

"What?" she called back, over her shoulder, before returning her attention to the precious console she had booked for the afternoon. "Folk, 2nd millennium BCE, pastoral themes, minimal accompaniment, vocal solo, no electronics," she commanded. The screen lit up with a list of hits, and she idly clicked on one- for this trip, she would view the notations first and allow her Pernese interpretation to flavor the music, then listen to the audio file.

The sheet music was simple enough, though Menolly had no gitar to strum the few bare chords. "Deep in the meadow, under the willow, a bed of grass, a soft green pillow," she sang, and was pleased. The low key fit her voice quite nicely.

"That's pretty," Piemur interrupted, leaning on the doorway. "Didn't you hear me?"

"Didn't you hear me?" Menolly echoed. "I said, 'what.'"

Piemur made an elaborate show of rolling his eyes, looking very much like the troublesome apprentice he had been when they first met. "And then you went right back to doing your research," he teased. "Can't you write your own songs anymore? Or do you just have to steal Aivas's?"

"I'm trying to introduce ancient Terran songs into circulation, at least the ones with proper instrumentation and relevance to-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Piemur flapped his hands wildly as she glared at him. "Now hear about me, and what I found!" He didn't even pause for a reply. "The Ballad of Moreta's ride is completely wrong!"

"No!"

"Yes!" Leaning over her keypad, Piemur rapidly tapped out a sequence and a scanned image burst onto the screen. "I had brought over some of the old, old, beyond old skins from Fort Weyr, the early Eighth Pass stuff that was stuck together and crumbling, and this is even older than that! It got sandwiched between some lacquered cases and survived, somehow. It's a firsthand account of the plague winter and the heroic deeds of Weyrwoman Moreta, the young Lord Holder of Ruatha, and the incredibly handsome bronze rider B'lerion."

Menolly squinted at the screen. "Incredibly handsome? It doesn't really say that." Piemur tapped on the keyboard again, and the two words became highlighted in yellow. "Incredibly handsome," she read aloud, eyebrows raised, and tilted her head in acceptance. "Why would anyone have bothered to document that fact?"

Grinning, Piemur scrolled the image to the end. "Because this was written by someone named B'lerion." The yellow highlighting disappeared from the text at his command, and he settled himself comfortably in a chair. "Read it."

Several minutes later, Menolly was gasping for air. "But this means - she couldn't hear all dragons - and they were timing - they went to the future to pick - they interdicted Southern - "

Piemur halted her babble with a shaky laugh. "I know, right?"

"We should have Lytol see this," Menolly said, regaining some of her equilibrium. "He'd be so interested in the mutation of the myth. And Capiam! He'd love to know how long the Hall had retained such medical knowledge. And-" Another thought rendered her speechless. "But everyone knows the Ballad of Moreta's Ride," she exclaimed. "Everyone! We'll have to correct it."

"Correct the well-known traditional epic ballad, and make single person on Pern older than, say, four Turns relearn it," Piemur said slowly.

"Relearn it and like it," Menolly added with a shudder, thinking of the Abominators.

The two harpers exchanged a long, terrified look. "Let's make Domick do it," Piemur suggested, and printed out a copy.

"Yes, lets." Menolly rolled the paper into a tight tube and tucked it into her rucksack. "I'll give it to him when I get back to the hall tonight. He'll probably have convulsions, then insist on making any changes adhere to traditional balladic form. Now, let me get back to work, please, it's taken me weeks to book this console."

Piemur sighed and strolled to the door. "Fine, I'll leave. Before I forget, I've been told that my Pierjan has decided to marry your daughter Lemsia."

"Oh? How did she respond?"

"With biting."

"Get on with you, you scamp," Menolly said, without heat.

"Maybe she's just too incredibly handsome."

"Piemur, out!"