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Brand New Day. [1/2]

Writers: Leigh M-F.
Date Posted: 16th February 2017

Characters: A'kua
Description: At long last.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 10, day 13 of Turn 8
Notes: Mentioned: Ilyssia and Gwynnyth (ONPCs), Genna, Firelloa (ONPC).


It was so hard to believe this was finally happening. Yesterday, even though he’d been scared out of his mind, A’kua and Zeiranth had flown with Cyan Wing and properly faced Thread. A’kua had nearly lost it when the first edge of the Fall came toward them; a shriek of terror had been churning in his throat, and he’d been on the verge of ordering Zeiranth to teleport back to the Weyr.

Then the young bronze opened his mouth. Flame burst into the air, a massive gout of blinding incandescence that nearly made the nearest Threads explode before it was all completely seared to harmless ash. That was when the pieces finally came together, and A’kua’s scream became a triumphant war-cry as he threw up an arm in victory, signaling everything would be okay. He was still afraid, but the more Zeiranth flamed, the more they flew in formation, and the longer the Fall lasted, the less it mattered.

At last, he was a dragonrider.

When the Fall ended, and Zeiranth and Gwynnyth had been properly tended to, Firelloa had been reassured of her brother's safety and the stink of firestone and sweat washed off, Ilyssia and A’kua had “celebrated” in the greenrider’s weyr for some time.

Today, he could move in with his weyrmate. A’kua had taken special care with his appearance, slicking his hair back and dressing in what could conceivably called his best, even pinning the cloak clasp of gold and bronzite Genna had commissioned from her father below his throat (even though he didn’t have a cloak). Since everything was packed and ready to go, the weyrling- no, the wingrider launched himself onto Zeiranth’s back and sent him winging to Ilyssia’s weyr. Their weyr. Oh, he’d been waiting for this ever since he’d confessed to her last Turn on one of the most nerve-wracking days of his life.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He’d knocked a little too hard on the door that faced the stairs leading into the Weyr proper. Ilyssia had thrown it open a little too roughly, but her smile was as bright as ever, if somewhat jittery. “Hey, Luka,” she chirped. “Come on in, I have some tea and snacks- Oh, you brought your gitar! Did you come up with something new?” she guessed, eyes bright with anticipation.

He could not have gotten a better lead-in if he’d tried. “Yes, actually,” Aluka said, heading for one of the available chairs. “I- I wrote it for ya.”

“Another song for me?” Ilyssia’s heart jumped. Was this the kind of sign she had been hoping for? “Thank you! I wasn’t expecting that,” she said, taking her other chair and seating herself when her guest did.

“Neither was I.” Aluka settled the gitar on his lap, testing the strings as he bent his head over them. “Mind if I play before we talk?”

Ilyssia nodded. Maybe it would help her calm down before they moved on to the issue at hand. “Sure.”

After clearing his throat and hoping the numbweed he’d drank wouldn’t wear off anytime soon, the Candidate played the opening chords. They were soft and strangely dreamy, not like his usual sound, and his voice was quieter than usual, but the words came through clearly: “Take this man who comes to you; take me to your side.
I've thrown away my heartless days, I need you in my life.
In the doorway of my heart, your presence brightly shines.
I see the spirit in your eyes; trust what you see in mine.

What are these hands for if I can't bring you fallen rain?
What are these eyes for if I can't see the moons watch over you?
What are these arms for if I can't hold you through the night?
What does this heart beat for if I can't lie by your side?
You must know, I was meant for you.

I’ll meet you by that crooked tree,
And I’ll hold you so close.
So come on out from the wilderness,
Let this free you from your ghosts.

What are these hands for if I can't bring you fallen rain?
What are these eyes for if I can't see the moons watch over you?
What are these arms for if I can't hold you through the night?
What does this heart beat for if I can't lie by your side?
You must know, I was meant for you.

We'll walk up on the hill
-the view will be so pretty-
And count the Weyr lights down below, oh,
We'll lay in the grass, dream out loud,
Catch a caravan train, dance in the rain,
Please say you feel the same.

Kneel down in the moons-light,
Let your hair fall all around.
Please tell me tonight that you can see
I was meant for you.

What are these hands for?
What are these arms for if I can’t hold you through the night?
What does this heart beat for if I can’t lie by your side?
You must know, I was meant for you.

Let me bring you fallen rain....” Aluka let the last notes fade, and kept his head bowed, setting the gitar aside. Then he dared to look at Ilyssia. The greenrider had her hands over her mouth, eyes wide with surprise. But there was no revulsion, no rejection in her stare; that gave him a spark of hope. Still, he hesitated before reaching to grasp Ilyssia’s wrists, gently tugging them down until their hands clasped.

Lys was startled to find her friend’s fingers were trembling and cold. She opened her mouth to speak, only to be interrupted.

Last updated on the March 2nd 2017


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All references to worlds and characters based on Anne McCaffrey's fiction are © Anne McCaffrey 1967, 2013, all rights reserved, and used by permission of the author. The Dragonriders of Pern© is registered U.S. Patent and Trademark Office, by Anne McCaffrey, used here with permission. Use or reproduction without a license is strictly prohibited.