Ruatha Hold, Post Pass, 25th Turn
Bright fire danced and crackled on the stone hearth. The old man stood with his back to the flames, facing the great hall. Raising his arms to the assembled throng, he cleared his throat. At his signal, the harpers entertaining crowd fell silent.
As the guests followed the harper's lead their host cleared his throat. His weathered voice, quavery with age, yet long used to being heard over the roar of the wind, carried easily to the far corners of the hall.
"Tonight, as you celebrate the seventy-second turn since my birth, I choose to honor the memory of those who made who and what I have become possible. I raise this glass, this fine Benden vintage from that very turn to the memory of Lytol; Dragonrider, Masterweaver, Lord Warder, mentor and friend."
"Lytol!" The crowd echoed.
Not waiting for the echo to die, Jaxom continued.
"To Robinton. Forever to be known as The Masterharper, conscience and confidant of Pern."
"Robinton!" Strummed chords and pipe whistles punctuated the cry.
"To F'lar and my kinswoman Lessa. Visionaries and humble servants of us all."
"The Weyrleaders!" The crowd cried.
"And my beloved wife Sharra, taken from us..." His voice broke with a sob.
From the head table, a middle aged man wearing the colors of Benden Weyr and the knot of Weyrleader rose to assist him.
Jaxom took a deep breath and waved the man back to his seat.
"No S'wan, I can finish." Jaxom turned back to the crowd.
"To Sharra, taken from us this past summer, in the season she loved so fully here in Ruatha."
"The Lady Sharra!" The crowd replied.
Jaxom tilted back his goblet and drank deeply of the wine in memory of those he had cared most about. As the room followed suit, he motioned for a sandy haired young man to join him from the head table
"Over the turns I have done much for Ruatha, and yes, for all of Pern. Today, Ruatha prospers!"
He had to pause as the room erupted in cheers.
"Our crafthalls are second to none. The proud lineage of Ruathan racers is revived and flourishing. This hold is everything that Red and Mairi Hanrahan could have dreamed for it to become at it's founding." Jaxom paused again for the crowd's enthusiasm.
"But with all of that success, I am tired. Tonight, I announce that at the next conclave I shall retire from my position as Lord Holder of Ruatha in favor of my Grandson and steward Jastin."
Jaxom reached out and took his grandson by the arm, gently pulling the younger man between himself and the crowd.
"Ruatha requires young leadership. In Jastin's hands, Ruatha will continue to prosper!"
"Jastin! Jastin! Jastin!" The crowd gladly cried.
The young man raised his own glass high and waved the crowd to silence.
"To Lord Jaxom! Hero of Pern! Dragonrider AND Lord Holder!"
"Jaxom! Jaxom! Jaxom! Jaxom! Jaxom!" The crowd roared his name until they were hoarse.
- - -
Great bonfires crackled around the edges of the Ruatha gather square, easily banishing the spring chill from the air. Jaxom smiled wistfully, his toe tapping to the sprightly harper rhythm, as he watched his grandchildren and great-grandchildren spin their way across the square.
"I miss her too." Ruth's gentle voice whispered in his head.
Jaxom turned to look at the fire heights where the old white dragon kept the day's visitors company. "We hadn't danced a fast set in years, but she always insisted we take at least one of the slower turns."
A deep sigh came across the link between them. "And what would she say to see you just standing there?"
Jaxom could feel Ruth's discontent at the deep sadness they both shared.
"Jara comes."
A soft touch at his elbow announced his daughter's arrival. "Chatting to the exclusion of your guests again, Father?" Her soft chuckle floated along behind the words.
Jaxom turned to face the dark haired woman before him. In appearance, so much like her mother, though everyone commented on how like her father's her eye's were. Even with forty turns, her thick hair was still the raven shade she'd been born with.
"An old man is allowed his indulgences." Jaxom replied.
As if on cue, the raucous whirling dance set ended. There was a brief commotion on the stage as the band members swapped out. With Belior rising above the tree line, the new group eased into one of the pieces that had been a particular favorite of Sharra's.
"So are daughters." Jara took his hand and grinning, pulled him towards the dancing square. "Mother said you must not forget how to dance."
"And what of your husband, would he not care for this turn?" He asked as they began the formal bows to open the dance.
Jara nodded over her shoulder. Looking past, Jaxom saw her husband Pherion, and young daughter Jeri mirroring his and Jara's movements.
"I smell a conspiracy afoot." He whispered in her ear.
"Well, Ruth has always talked to all of us, not just you and mother." She replied.
Not knowing how to reply to that revelation, Jaxom took her proffered hand and danced.
"Ruth?" Years before, he'd learned how to carry on a conversation with the white dragon without showing it outwardly.
"They are your family. I am your family. They are my family. What more reason would I need?" The dragon replied.
"You always have been the exception to all the conventions." Jaxom pulled Jara through a stately spin, and for a moment, could believe that it was Sharra, and not his daughter with whom he was dancing.
"We both are."
- - -
The flickering candle on the table held Jaxom mesmerized. If he stared at it hard enough, turns slipped away and he could feel like he was just waiting for Sharra to come back from obliging a distinguished guest with a turn on the dancing square. Lost in the flame, he heard the harpers wind down the latest set. He knew her so well, mentally he counted off the moments until she returned. First she would exchange pleasantries with her partner, then she'd stop at the refreshment table for a fruit drink. She'd then pick up two cups of wine and make her way to wherever he was sitting.
There was a light thump on the table as the wine goblet was set by his right hand. A light touch on his right arm.
Eyes alight, Jaxom turned to face his wife.
"Grandfather?" Jastin asked.
Jaxom struggled to keep the smile on his face as the realization that Sharra was gone washed over him again. Patting the table beside him, he invited his grandson and heir to join him.
"Are our guests enjoying the evening?" He asked.
Jastin's shoulders slumped as he sat down.
"They are." Jastin replied.
Jaxom narrowed his eyes as he studied the younger man's posture. "You have something bothering you?"
The Lord Holder designate sighed. "Are you sure you want me as your heir? Really, the honor should be Uncle..."
With a slice of his hand, Jaxom cut him off. "Your uncle has his own responsibilities, and very important ones at that."
"But thread's been gone since before I was born. Surely, with it never returning, he would want to return here to hold." Jastin argued.
"Your Uncle is a dragonrider." Jaxom replied
Jastin snorted. "So are you Grandfather. Did you not once say A weyr is where a dragon is."
"Ruth and I were, are, and probably always will be the exceptions to a lot of rules."
Sweat glistening on his forehead, the Benden Weyrleader slid into the seat across the table. Taking a swallow from the goblet he carried, he looked over at the other two. "Jara dragged me out for one of those wild sets the younger harpers are fond of playing."
"Well S'wan, your arrival here is well timed." Jaxom offered. "Your nephew seems to want to abdicate in your favor."
Jastin paled and hid his face in his cup as S'wan guffawed. With a sheepish grin, he looked up at the dragonrider. "You are a son in the direct line, the honor should fall to you."
S'wan's face became serious. "Your father, Jarrol, was the one who was always interested in managing the hold. The honor was his. I chose a different path, and now, the honors that were to have fallen to your father fall to you."
Smiling again, the Weyrleader took up the wineskin from the end of the table and refilled Jastin's cup. "Besides, you wouldn't want to upset me after all the good things I said about you to make sure Jaxom chose you?"
S'wan slapped the table. "I have to be going. Jerath reminds me that we have an early morning tomorrow. Father, you and Ruth must visit the Weyr again soon."
Standing, he nodded to Jaxom and Jastin. "Good evening Lord Holder. Lord holder designate."