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Strange Pairing	By : AbstractRainbow Category: A through F > The Dragonriders of Pern Views: 4575 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Dragonriders of Pern series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Strange Pairing
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 7-Seven
- 1
- 2
- 3
As it was finally decided that the hatching was over, the dragonet wouldn’t choose, people started filing out. It was up to the Weyrleaders now. They would figure something out. Maybe the person just wasn’t there, sick or something. She heard in the whispers and gossip that strange dragon choices had been running rampant recently, but never had one refused to choose. She bit her lip and wiped the tears from her face as she filed out with them, forgetting that the blue rider had instructed that she stay there until he fetched her. As she followed everyone out of the grounds, sadly looking back once, she sniffed and rubbed the tear tracks from her dirt smudged face. Such a beautiful, wonderful little creature, and they’d not even been able to do so much as find the right candidates for it. That was three faults in their favor she thought, and hung her head. She was doomed.
As she heard a loud squeal and cry, definitely not human, she assumed that the fire lizards here were just in some sort of uproar. They did that sometimes for whatever reason. However, she felt no images from confused or frightened minds after a moment, and turning back to the grounds to see what was happening she saw the queen stepping forward in concern and the little dragonet running desperately toward the main exit, where she and the majority of the audience were still trying to make their way out. Concern laced through her eyes, afraid it would hurt itself. What happened to a dragon when it didn’t have a partner? She thought she heard rumors of dragons going between in suicide when their partners died… and panicked in fear that the dragonet might be trying to kill itself for lack of a future rider. People parted in shock as it ran through the last ranks of the audience, not daring to risk harming the thing, and she felt something ram into her as she looked around for a way to help stop it. With an oomph she fell to the ground for the second time that day, and looked up at the heavy weight placed on her shoulders, big eyes whirling a content purplish blue just above her face.
>I am Dreakenolianth. Where WERE you!< It yelped in her head, and she felt more dazed from that alone than being knocked over. She heard people around her, calling her a boy and telling her to get up, get the dragon over to where it needed to be and congratulating her, but it didn’t really sink in. A dragonet, that beautiful one she’d watched so closely, was standing on her. >Where WERE you! I was so scared… I thought you didn’t want me!<
“I…” she stammered out. “I’m Lysceander…” She finally got that much out, and felt the thing rubbing its head against her cheek gently. She was still dazed, and when hands finally carefully guided the dragonet off of her shoulders and helped her up, she panicked, thinking they might be under the impression that she did this on purpose. “I didn’t mean to… honest… I was just standing here… and…”
“Stop panicking lad. By the shell we were worried that he wouldn’t Impress.” A tall, happy man said with a bright smile and twinkling eyes, patting her back and brushing sand off. “My you’re a mess. How did you get here?”
“G… Groith… picked… caves…” she was still dazed, and shook her head. “I was out by the caves, and Groith’s rider picked me up and brought me here.”
“We’ll have to thank him terribly. Groith’s always had an instinct for that.” The man laughed and clapped her back again. “Well, we’ll have to get you cleaned up and send word to your hold, lad. You’re a Weyrling now.”
“I… I’m…” She began, starting to protest that she wasn’t even a boy when a woman walked up, her golden hair shimmering as she hooked her arm through the man’s. Her smile was just as kind and happy, both of them obviously relieved, and Lysceander stared openly. She hadn’t known that dragonriders could be so pretty. “I… I’m…” She suddenly noticed that it was only her and the two of them now, the other people from the audience having walked off as soon as she was helped up by the man. Her little dragonet sat firmly by her side, watching with curious, whirling eyes.
“We’re very glad of your presence b…” she began with a smile, about to call her a boy again, then looked closer. Letting go of the man, she leaned forward and removed a bit of the smudge on Lysceander’s cheek. “Why… fire and rain! You’re not a boy at all!”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you people…” she said with a small, concerned huff, a hand resting on the dragonet’s head by instinct. “Groith’s rider kept calling me a boy and put me in a seat before I could correct him, then that guy kept saying it too… and by the time I started to get a word in edge wise you showed up.”
“‘That guy’?” The man said incredulously. “You don’t know who your own Weyrleader is?”
“You’re the Weyrleaders?” She asked, shocked, and her mouth dropped. The woman stared at her, just as surprised as the man. “I… I…” she looked down and kneeled by her new dragon. They couldn’t take the dragon away from her now, could they? “I’m not from a hold…” she whispered out, for the first time in her life that she was ashamed of it. Usually she scorned people that needed a hold to survive, and since the death of her family she’d scorned the dragonriders that couldn’t protect her. Now though, with the Weyrleaders staring at her and a dragon wanting to be her life partner, she just wished she’d lived a normal life and been taken in on Search. “I lived in the caves Groith picked me up by…. You’re not going to take Dreakenolianth away, are you?”
“I don’t believe we can…” the man said, still frowning, concerned and confused now. A girl with a bronze… much less a holdless girl. This was not good. Dragon choice was just getting stranger. “Though this presents a few problems. Females do not impress bronzes. And, unusual as your little one is, he is in essence a bronze. Secondly… there are certain rules about the holdless….”
“I’ll do anything… I don’t want to lose him!” she cried, hugging tightly to the dragonet, who growled menacingly at the man. He was frightening Lysceander! No one frightens Lysceander!
“I… I suppose…” the man said apprehensively, more concerned for the circumstances than the fact that a little dragonling was growling at him.
“Oh, don’t be mean N’kell. It’s not as if we can change dragon choice anyway. Listen… um…”
“Lysceander…”
“A boy’s name too… hm… well, listen Lysceander, this is very unusual, and things may be difficult, but seeing as how no one has any choice in the matter, you are paired with… er… your bronze. What did you say his name is?” She asked with a small frown.
“Dreakenolianth.” Lysceander answered easily. “He says we can call him Dreake though.”
“That’s much easier, thank-you Dreake. Well, Lysceander, right now you need to take Dreake over to the lake and wash and oil him while he feeds.” She pointed toward the rippling waters and the other weyrlings and twenty-three dragons. “Separate yourself a bit from them… I don’t want you talking to them too much quite yet. I am Beyrille, this is N’kell. We’ll come to get you as soon as we can. Do you understand?”
“Yes. There will be food there for Dreake? He’s very hungry.” She looked concerned. The woman nodded, and she smiled in response, starting to move toward the lake. She nodded, and Lysceander and Dreake trotted quickly, setting themselves a decent distance away from the others, another rider hefting over a herdbeast for the dragonet to feast on as he was washed and oiled.
>She’s nice. I like her. Mother says that she is a good leader. Do you like her? She’s pretty.< Dreake babbled out.
“Yes she is pretty, and I’m happy she’s in charge here. She’s why we get to stay together.” Lysceander whispered as she rubbed the oil into the hide of her new friend. Her new family. He was her only family… but he was family at least. They’d be together. “And if she’s that great, then I suppose that not all riders are bad. It can’t be her fault that my family was killed.”
Dreake stopped eating and looked at Lysceander sadly. >I’ll be family now. They’ll foster you to someone… mother says.<
“You’re telling all of this to the queen dragon?” Lysceander asked, gulping. The dragonet confirmed that. “Um, please don’t Dreake. I think I’d better be careful about how much they know about me. I didn’t live in a hold before we found each other, and that’s a bad thing to them. I don’t want to get in a lot of trouble.”
“Well, I’d say that growing up as you were raised to grow up is hardly your fault to get in trouble for.” Someone said behind her. She spun, oil still coating her hands from rubbing it into the hide. The Weyrwoman and three other people stood there, but not N’kell. “So… Lysceander… the first question we have to ask is… well, when a dragon-man impresses a dragon, his name is shortened, like the Weyrleader’s name became N’kell. A syllable is taken from your name, to shorten it and make it easier for the other dragons to remember. Some girls do it, but not many. Seeing as how you have a bronze, and did not grow up in the Weyr, we thought we’d let you decide on that.”
“Um… no… but you can call me Lys for short.” She said shyly as she finished rubbing the oil in, then wiped off her hands.
“Well, Lys, there are certain things we need to know about you, but we believe that you will be able to stay.” She smiled. “And once we finish figuring things out, we’ll find somewhere to place you. Go ahead and bring Dreakenolianth with you. We’ll find somewhere for him to nap shortly. These are some important people in the Weyr for you to know about. I am the Weyrwoman, do you know what that means? Good. This is Findrelle, the Harper. This is Morta, the headwoman. And that is F’nik. He is an important friend and advisor to N’kell and I, called the Weyrsecond. This, is my sister Heinley, another queen rider.”
“Hello. It is very nice to meet all of you.” She said meekly. What exactly was she supposed to do? She had no idea how to behave around important people of a Weyr. Of a holdless clan maybe, she was used to important people from that. But not this. “Dreake, say hello.” The dragonet bowed its head, following obediently.
Everyone chuckled at that, and she didn’t quite understand why. However, the chuckling paused their steps toward the entrance to the halls of the Weyr, and a dragon that was standing nearby, having holders being loaded on, turned its massive head to bring it down to Lysceander’s level. It blinked its middle lids a few times and crooned out a loud, deep noise. She stared in shock at the brown head in front of her, and reached out slowly, scratching along the eye ridge as all of the lids closed in pleasure.
“Well, that’s definitely interesting.” Beyrille said with a wide smile. Lysceander snapped her hand away and put it onto her own dragonet’s head, and the brown looked disappointedly at her before returning its head to inspect the strapping job. “That was Florith, your future Weyrling instructor’s dragon. Be glad he likes you. Now… you said you lived holdless.”
“Y… yes. I was born in a craft hall, traders, but my family abandoned it to join a passing trader clan, that lived outside of holds. I don’t remember it, but that’s what my parents had told me.” She said softly. The woman nodded, and there was a small murmur from the other people. “My father was the envoy between the clans…”
“Ah… that’s a nice position to have had. High up, yes?” The woman asked, then a strange expression came over her face. “Oh dear. Now, what exactly did you do? Or were you not training to do anything yet? You look old enough.”
“I’m sixteen turns… I was a message runner, fastest in the clan.” She said meekly, shrugging and walking on with Dreake as they all started up again.
“Ah… so… why were you out alone today? And why did you let T’nes pick you up if you weren’t lost?” She asked smoothly, neither accusing or kind.
“When my family died I stayed behind after the clan moved on. I’ve been living in the caves alone, and went out to see what had been destroyed from the fall. I had thought that all of the dragons and people would be gone. The firelizards were in a tizzy with images of a dragon hatching floating around, so I thought everyone would be getting ready for that. I’m… I… I was afraid of dragons and dragonriders, since I was holdless. I was sure I’d be punished for it. When he thought I was some hold boy, trapped out in the caves during a fall, and insisted that I get up on the dragon because his blue kept going on about it, I just cooperated in hopes that I could disappear in the crowds at some point and get out.”
“You understand fire lizards?” She asked, surprise lacing her voice again as she stared at Lys and they settled in a large room, Dreake falling asleep on a large cushion to the side. Lysceander nodded, thinking that it couldn’t be uncommon in a Weyr. She’d always assumed that her family and friends hadn’t been able to understand them simply because they ignored the creatures altogether. “Can you understand other dragons?”
“No, just Dreake so far.” She mumbled. “Is that bad?”
“No… it’s simply unusual for people to understand fire lizards other than their own. Not as unusual as dragons, but people who hear dragons often hear fire lizards as well…” the woman said openly. “So… you agree to learning the rules and life of the Weyr, and training to become a dragonrider?”
“Yes, of course. Anything for Dreake!” Lysceander said passionately, then clamped her mouth shut.
“Well it’s certainly unusual, a girl with a bronze…” the Harper said thoughtfully, but smiled and shrugged. “However, we Harpers love change, so I say yea.”
“Hm… don’t much like a girl as a bronze rider, dangerous… but I suppose that she’s had a dangerous life anyway, living holdless. Seems as she could handle it…” F’nik provided, snorting. “Yea.”
“I quite believe that having a girl in their ranks will definitely make those bronze boys much less cocky, especially if she’s at all successful.” Heinley said grinning broadly. “I say yea.”
“Yea, though I wonder how she’ll handle matings….” Morta added in.
“By she shell!” F’nik exclaimed. “I’d forgotten that! And it’s not something I easily forget. What will she do about matings? I mean, growing up in a Weyr we learn to not care about parings… with the varied genders in lower ranks and all… but she’s not Weyr bred.”
“Lysceander… you need to understand something… when a queen rises to mate, it’s the bronzes that respond. As dragonriders, we feel the same things, and usually end up coupling with whoever wins out. That means that since there are only female queen riders, if your bronze ever wins in a mating… either the two of you will have to have another man ready, or…” even though she wasn’t particularly against it, Beyrille blushed in embarrassment for talking about it anyway.
“Ewe… boys?” Lysceander suddenly exclaimed, surprising them. “Boys are disgusting. I’d much rather couple with a girl anyway.”
“I swear, she’s almost a boy!” F’nik exclaimed tactlessly. “Easily mistaken for a boy, name of a boy, partnered to a bronze… and now she prefers girls!”
“That’s quite enough F’nik.” Beyrille said sternly. “Ignore him, Lys. He’s a dolt sometimes.”
“No, I know it’s true. My father told me frequently that I should have been a boy.” Lysceander laughed and shook her head. “It always disturbed mother so. I was her only daughter…”
“Hm yes, from sitting in a Weyrling class occasionally, I would guess that a family of boys would be a bit difficult to work with sometimes.” Beyrille said with a mischievous grin. “Now, I would be quite happy to take you on as a fosterling myself, but I’m afraid that N’kell and I are extremely busy. I’ve talked with Heinley, and she agreed that so long as you don’t mind, she’ll be your foster mother. She’s not partnered and has no other fosterlings… so you’ll be the only one… A queen rider is a busy woman though, and once you’re settled, you must understand that she will be hard to get a hold of.”
“That’s fine.” Lysceander shrugged. She didn’t care who she lived with, she had Dreake for family now. “Thank-you very much.”
“Well, just sound so enthusiastic about it.” Heinley joked, gesturing Lysceander up and nudging the cushion that the dragon slept on. “Lets get to it. Best to have you settled in when word gets out. Everyone at least still thinks you’re a boy for now. So, you said we can call you Lys? That’s great. You know, the two of you have real mouthfuls for names. Just go ahead and call me Heinley instead of any title you’d been trying to think up. You’re my fosterling, now, so that allows you certain things. We’ll get you cleaned up as soon as Dreake is settled in his bed, and some new clothes. Is there anything else at the caves you wanted to get? Where you lived?”
“A few…” she blushed and looked down, scuffing her boot on the ground shyly. “Thanks again.”
“You just do me a favor and pop one in the face of any stupid boy that thinks he’s better than you and decides to ride you for being a girl or holdless or have a different bronze.” Heinley said stoutly. “We’ll have to get Groith and T’nes to bring us by, my queen is too egg heavy to be going between too much, and I’d rather have her sleep soundly.”
“But Dreake…” Lysceander began, concerned, as she was pulled into a room and a large dragon cushion was pointed out to the dragonet, as well as a comfortable-looking bed to her.
“Dreake will be safe here. I’m roomed right next door, and I’ll make sure that Vrenteth, my queen, looks out for your young boy. What will we be getting once you’re cleaned up?” She asked, fluffing a few of the pillows and sitting on the bed.
“My knife, and a few mementos.” Lysceander shrugged and looked at herself. Yes she could use a bath to get some of the dirt off, but she didn’t quite understand what the huge deal was with it. Would she be able to keep the knife?
“Oh good, you already have your own knife. Then we won’t have to find you one. Well then, let’s get started. We’ve a busy night ahead of us.” The woman smiled and hopped up off of the bed, walking to the door an gesturing Lysceander out. After a brief but pathetically sweet goodbye to Dreake, she trotted out and behind her new foster mother. “First will be finding you at least three new sets of clothing, and something to wear to special occasions. Hmm… I do hope you look good in our Weyr colours, green and black. I think they might do well on you, but I can’t tell past that dirt. Well, perhaps a bath first. Yes, a bath, and while you scrub yourself properly, I’ll fetch you something simple to look through the stores with. Then we’ll do some grooming. I’ll tutor you on certain things that the others learned as candidates, though they don’t learn much until they reach Weyrling status in this Weyr.”
“Grooming?” Lysceander asked, confused.

TBC
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Strange Pairing