Dragon Rising
A fanfiction by Plikkit based on the novels by Anne McCaffrey.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the people, places, or concepts of Pern. Those are solely credited to Anne McCaffrey, in all her wonderful talent.
Question for anyone: Is it known about how many months pass before a dragonet is ready to learn to fly/go between?
Concrit/reviews still appreciated!
RECAP: "Candidates!" Y'hen suddenly roared. Saya was used enough to Hold life not to jump, but she did become tense as doors were thrown open and young people of ages ranging from her own age to twenty Turns came pouring out upon the Candidate master's call.
---Chapter II----
Saya noticed the five other female candidates standing among their male peers staring at her with appraising gazes, and shifted uncomfortably.
"This is Saya, from..." Y'hen looked at her pointedly.
"Fort Hold," Saya supplied, mustering the courage to make eye contact with a few. Some smiled; some simply regarded her with blank expressions.
"Mingle," Y'hen yelled, to Saya's horror. She turned to stare at him as the echo of his absurd command died in the hall, her brows raised.
Resigned, she turned once again to face the now-murmuring group of younglings, and was suddenly facing another girl of her age.
She was shorter than Saya, but with a pleasantly heart-shaped face and round blue eyes. Her light blue gown was bordered with white, an elegant detail not often seen but which complemented her dark brown waves of hair. She was smiling; such a sweet, happy smile that Saya couldn't help but return it tentatively.
"I'm Ellan, Weyrbred of Fort," the girl said, introducing herself.
"Ah, I guess you know who I am already," Saya replied, feeling silly, but heartened by the girl's straightforward introduction.
Ellan then laughed, a tinkling sound. "You are very new to Weyr life, aren't you? Don't be frightened. It isn't intimidating at all. Everyone's quite easygoing and friendly."
"Except for our Candidate master, there," Saya couldn't help but mutter, and Ellan barely suppressed a grin.
"True," she said.
Ellan and Saya became fast friends despite their mutual acknowledgment of their rivalry. Saya liked Ellan's sweet and unobtrusive nature, and Ellan thought the same of Saya's thoughtful and congenial personality. It turned out that the other Queen candidates envied their friendship, and Saya soon got to know each of them well enough. There was Lella from a Seahold; she was an amorous youth. Daini from the High Reaches Hold dreamed of glory and respect. Callengra of Ruatha was quietly expectant, and finally Espelle from the Farmcrafthall was a bouncy, loud, and energetic girl.
Saya also befriended several of the male prospective dragonriders over the next few days, finding that she generally preferred a boy's company to a girl's (with the exception of Ellan), for reasons unknown to her.
One of her closest friends was Belled, a serious young man who was Harpercraftbred and quite skilled with the gitar. He knew as little about Weyr life as she, so the two would often meet to discuss their perspectives on what they had learned that day, whether it be from Y'hen or their own explorations.
"Saya," he said to her one day as they sat in a Record room, a crumbling skin spread out between them and weighed down with their elbows. It was a diagram of Fort Weyr, detailing ancient tunnels and caverns all the way up to the highest weyr in the bowlside. They had been poring over it for a day now, examining the symbols printed by the weyrs and referring back to another skin, which listed each dragonrider next to the symbols of his or her weyr. Of course, these skins were several hundred Turns old, and all the riders and dragons had by now expired. Still, they both got an inexplicable thrill of reading the names of their predecessors past.
"There are thirty-seven eggs out there," Belled continued, his brows furrowing in worry over his dark blue eyes. "And fifty-two of us. What if I don't Impress?"
Saya blinked her eyes to rid them of the fuzz from staring at faded skins, and then smiled slightly at the stocky youth. "I don't think that's very likely. You're a sharding good person and a clever thinker."
Belled replied with good humor, "Oh, we're using Weyr oaths now. Practicing, are we?"
Saya adopted a sheepish expression. "I've picked it up."
"From whom? We aren't allowed to speak to actual dragonriders yet."
"No, but I've met some weyrlings who know their stuff. Plus we sometimes go in for meals as riders are leaving, and we can hear what they're saying."
"Any news of the Hatching?"
Saya sighed. "It's slightly delayed, but really unpredictable. Fylanth doesn't seem agitated yet, they said. You know I'm as clueless as you."
Belled thoughtfully stroked the diagram with one finger before they both returned to their reading.
Saya said, "Look, it says that the senior Weyrwoman at this time was Grethai, Hepith's rider..."
There was a set of fosterbrothers among the Candidate group; Kewen two Turns older than his fosterbrother, Feteen. Saya befriended them as she helped to settle an argument: who would Impress a bronze.
"Maybe you both will," she had shouted over the chaos of their row. "Besides, wouldn't it be an honor to Impress any dragon?" She had retreated from that, wide-eyed with exasperation at their antics but also visibly shaking from the experience. Both boys had approached her at meal that evening; a long and enjoyable discussion about dragonkind ensued.
Yikiz was another; he had also been searched from Fort Hold, and Saya spent an hour each night exchanging stories of escapades with the adventurous young man. They had never met at the Hold, and Saya found herself very much regretting that fact. Yikiz had a quick and sprightly way about him that made one want to jump up and perform daring acts of bravery. He was handsome, too, with sand-colored hair and a strong jaw, and the fact that he seemed to enjoy her company was cheering. However, Saya didn't spend very much time examining future possible weyrmates.
She began to realize after the first few days how very much at home she felt with her fellows at Fort. She found she could open up more to certain people, especially Ellan and Belled, and was less afraid to speak to strangers. In truth the Weyr seemed to be bringing out the best in her, and she was carefully cultivating a sociability that she hadn't been able to develop at the Hold. Following orders seemed less of a chore when she was doing them towards a brighter future.
One evening, the Weyrleader and Y'hen apparently decided that the Candidates should be integrated more into the Weyr. So, during their supper, the weyrlings joined them. The Candidates exchanged surprised whispers at how close the weyrlings really were to their own age.
Saya saw F'bran extricate himself from the group, grinning hugely and walking toward her, Ellan, Belled, Yikiz, Kewen, and Feteen where they sat at a table.
"Having a good evening?" he asked courteously of them all as he joined them in sitting with a plate of roast wherry.
"Yes, sir," they all automatically answered, with the exception of Saya who just nodded and smiled.
"It's good to see you again," she said. "How's Caprioth?"
"Hunting right now, the crazed beast. His belly is larger than this cavern."
The other Candidates at the table looked shocked.
"You two know each other?" Ellan asked of Saya. Her round eyes were wide.
"We met just after I was Searched," the other girl explained, all of a sudden feeling self-conscious.
"We get along well," the weyrling dragonrider said. "I'm F'bran, Caprioth's rider."
One by one, the others introduced themselves.
"All hoping to Impress?" F'bran asked, devious in his mannerisms and catching Saya's eye as everyone simultaneously burst into commentary about the dragon they hoped to stand for.
"I don't care what color," Belled said, pondering.
"Well, neither do we," Feteen interjected and looked at Saya, who nodded approval, delighted at the subtle deference.
F'bran noticed it, as well. He went on, "Plenty of rumors circulating, too. 'There are twenty bronzes'; 'it's a whole clutch of browns', and other Shell-damned stories like that." He shrugged and took a gulp from his cup.
Ellan spoke up, saying, "That's utterly ridiculous. If anything, this clutch will be perfectly balanced, if the tales of the mating flight are true." She looked inquiringly at the bronzerider, dipping her head.
"It was quite spectacular," F'bran answered. "Every mature bronze in the Weyr flew for her; lucky for us Q'mil's Gidrith won out, and not R'fut's Teriath."
"What exactly…" Saya began.
Then, the Weyrsinger suddenly appeared in the cavern and began playing a lively tune on his gitar. The Candidates and weyrlings cheered appreciatively, and Saya managed to get Belled up to join the talented Harper.
"He's good!" F'bran exclaimed as he watched Belled's fingers dance upon the neck of his instrument. The atmosphere was light and Saya's good mood was not spoiled even by the bitter dregs of klah they had been served.
"He is," she agreed fully. "Though he's afraid that he won't Impress." She made a slight face as she took a sip of klah, but told herself she was getting spoiled anyhow. Then, she once again watched Belled's skilled performance, taking pleasure in the rhythm and melody of his and the Weyrsinger's music. "As if any dragon would reject him," she added, a few moments later.
F'bran quirked a smile. "You have confidence in him."
"I have confidence in all my friends," Saya insisted, and then was distracted as stray locks of hair inevitably fell over and obscured her sight.
"Did you leave many friends behind at Fort Hold?" F'bran asked suddenly.
She cocked her head at him. "My foster mother kept me rather apart from most other fosterlings. As I was to become a full woman of the hold, I guess...I couldn't really afford to be distracted. Merana…" she trailed off.
F'bran casually placed his jaw into the palm of one hand, elbow on the tabletop. The glowbasket illuminated his bright hair so it looked rather fiery. "Was she proud of your being Chosen on Search?"
Saya considered this. "I don't know." After a pause in which they both drank deeply of klah that had been refreshed by a drudge, she said, "I do know that weyr life is very different from the Hold. Girls here have fewer inhibitions and several more privileges, and public compliments are not so rare. There is a firm togetherness about the place." She suddenly felt sad. "I'm not sure if I'll fit in. I'm not so comfortable with easy pleasures."
F'bran rushed to reassure her. "Nonsense. Why, I am sure that every Candidate and Weyrling here at least knows your name, if they aren't already acquainted or befriended."
She gave him a curiously mixed expression of skepticism and pleasure.
Just then, Belled and the other Harper finished their concert, and Saya, F'bran, and the others were prevailed upon to cheer and praise until their throats were raw.
Saya took more confidence from F'bran's remarks than she let on, even allowing herself to draw hope from the resilience of the other Candidates. Surrounded by such lively folk, it was difficult to be worried or anxious.
Though while the life and attitudes of the Weyr were cheering, the constant presence of dragonkind a reminder that, despite all the merriment, the Weyrs of Pern were established to do one thing only: fight Thread. In fact, Thread had fallen just the other day under Fort's jurisdiction, and when the riders had returned, stinking of firestone and with exhausted beasts, the air about the Weyr was one of grim satisfaction. Saya had not resented it. She had known that the Weyr was in its element.
The next morning, the Candidates were awoken by a deep, resonant sound; one so penetrating that their very bones seemed to vibrate with the noise. It was incessant and eerie, and they each knew at once what it was.
Y'hen burst into the corridor, flustered and fidgety. "The eggs are Hatching! Everyone to the Hatching Ground at once! Scorch it, hurry up!"
Saya practically flew out of her cot, her nervousness matched only by her sheer excitement. Her stomach twisted as she stripped out of her underclothes and donned the plain white robe that had been hanging on the wall peg for a sevenday, fumbling over the loose folds to locate and tie the strings. Callengra, her roommate, finished and swiftly left.
She caught a glimpse of herself in an elongated looking-glass as she moved to exit her room. Dark auburn hair, loose from its tail, fell to her elbows in unchecked waves; her small, pale body was nearly lost in the robe, which, as she pulled back to find her frame, showed her to be mostly straight and faintly round at the breast. Her face was also pale, and rather long, with hazel eyes accented by slender brows.
Saya hesitated. Would this creature soon be accepted by a member of the most magnificent species on Pern? She didn't allow her mind to venture further down that line of thought; she couldn't.
In the corridor, she was joined by a very pallid-looking Ellan. The two stood in tense silence as the rest of the Candidates spilled out of their rooms. Then, the march was on.
Up through the caverns and hallways they padded as quickly as they could, led by a sweaty Y'hen. The dragons' welcoming-hum still reverberated throughout, so the group kept to respectful silence. No one knew what to anticipate.
Saya's palms were damp. No matter how many times she wiped them on her robe, they were still sweaty with nerves. Then, she berated herself for worrying about palm moisture at such a time.
And there it was: a bright archway that led a path to her future...
The Hatching Grounds, a great expanse of gently steaming ground presided over by the Senior queen, were surrounded by tiers upon which a great deal of people sat, nearly entirely silent. Saya was stunned at such a number, but that only held her mind for a second. Next her eyes were drawn to her feet, which were uncomfortably hot in their thin-soled shoes. The sands were scalding.
The gently rocking eggs captured all their attention very quickly after that, though, and Y'hen gave their group a rough push toward the clutch. The boys and girls separated, males fanning out in a circle around the mottled eggs, and the girls grouping haphazardly around the single golden queen egg, which had rolled slightly to one side. Fylanth was only a dragonlength away from her golden egg, eyes red with defiance. A hiss escaped her jaws, symbol of the dragon's internal fighting spirit. Saya and Ellan exchanged glances, although Lella, Callengra, Daini and Espelle had their gazes fixed firmly on the queen's shell.
Then, the first egg split open evenly. The girls dragged their eyes from their queen and watched with terrified delight as a little bronze dragonet stumbled from the shards. It squealed, an endearing sound, and rustled damp wings before half-leaping, half-waddling over to a lad that Saya knew by name as Hetrin; Impression occurred, and H'trin bent, weeping, and began to murmur his dragon's name: "Melath, Melath, Melath..."
Other eggs were now hatching too, some evenly and some in great sprays of shell fragments. Blue, green, brown, and bronze hatchlings crooned and wailed, searching for their riders. Saya watched as Belled collapsed to his knees before a sturdy brown dragonet, eyes pouring tears as he encircled his dragon's neck with his arms and became B'led. To Saya, it was an astonishing and breathtaking sight. The other girls were transfixed, as well, until the queen egg shattered.
Pieces of the rock-hard shell flew everywhere as the queen made her dramatic appearance; one particularly jagged shard sliced across Saya's cheekbone, and pain rippled through her body. She had one tear-blurred glimpse of a golden dragonet before she pivoted on her waist and doubled over, away from the group, gasping and holding fingers to a bloody cheek. Then, she opened her eyes, and something extraordinary happened.
Valianth stared up at Saya's face with her eyes shimmering in a myriad of rainbows, sitting back on her haunches and wings partially outstretched. In a glorious instant, Saya forgot her wound and fell to her knees to embrace the green dragonet, and said in a choked whisper, "You're mine, Valianth, forever and ever. I love you." Valianth crooned anxiously over her rider's injury, and blinked opalescent eyes.
Saya- of- my- heart.
Saya nearly drowned in ecstasy. Suddenly gripped by a sense of pride so intense that she could hardly breathe for elation, Saya stood and shouted, "She says her name is Valianth!" My wonderful joy! And at the same moment, somebody cried, "Her name is Inneth!
Saya still had one hand on Valianth's emerald head, stroking eye ridges and causing her dragon's eyes to whirl with pleasure. At that call, she turned and saw Ellan kneeling next to the new queen, who shone a shade of pale gold. Tears of bliss seeped down Ellan's round face as she stroked the new queen Inneth's large head. Saya, who had quite forgotten about the queen hatchling, stood for a moment, astounded. Then, Valianth interrupted her thoughts.
I'm hungry.