Aemith lay curled in the golden light of the setting sun’s rays, her magnificent purple hide soaking up every last bit of the remaining warmth. She huffed softly with her eyes closed, twin streamers of hot air swirling palely out of draconic nostrils; mirroring the intangible mist of P’earl’s own breath curling up into the rapidly cooling chill, as the garnetrider stepped out onto their weyrledge. “Ah, there you are, love. Gettin’ some last minute sun?”
The multiple eyelids of one faceted eye opened in answer.
Of course I am. Not like a bit of winter sun ever hurt anyone; in fact, some sun’d do YOU some good, P’earl. You’re always stuck working in that dratted infirmary for like, waaay too long! Aemith complained, the large dragon even more uncharacteristically irritated than she’d been for the past few sevendays. A second misty gust of steam billowed out from the garnet’s snout, as if to punctuate her point.
Her curly-haired rider merely chuckled, the woman full of unspoken understanding as to what was actually going on.
Ah, I take your point, my dear Aemith, but you know as well as I do that it’s important work. Anyhow, I’m out here now, aren’t I?
P’earl cast an practiced eye over Aemith’s slim lengths, noting the intensity of her grumbling dragon’s overall glow—a glow that had nothing to do with the fading sunlight—as she carefully settled her bundled-up self upon the sun-warmed stone floor. Any day now. Any time now, Aemith’ll rise, and then they both wouldn’t feel quite so irritated for a while! The two of them had been bonded long enough to know how this worked.
“Well then. I’m off-shift right now, so come, let us watch the sunset together, m’darling. I hear it’s supposed to be a stunner!” The journeywoman Healer said aloud, her voice adroitly nudging Aemith into raising her runner-like head, the lids of the other draconian eye unfurling open too.
Never mind that the fading sky was for once clear of clouds that could’ve lend themselves to painting such a majestic view with the bold, vivid colour that some sunsets were famed for. But it was P’earl’s turn to cheer up the normally-positive dragon; so thus, there was no harm in saying so now, despite that. Besides, technically, sunsets could still be stunning without clouds!
Rukbat continued to sink slowly, its brilliant orb bit by bit disappearing into the mountains beyond the darkened silhouette of the Weyr’s western edge. Far below, the tiny specks of glowbasket light began to appear all around the well-travelled rims of the Weyrbowl, with several clusters clearly indicating entrances—whether they be to the Weyrling or Candidate Barracks, the Lower Caverns, the Hatching Grounds, or the aforementioned Infirmary—and the edges of the feeding grounds; where the herdbeasts and wherries either dozed or grazed or milled about, as well as along the watery edge of the silently glistening lake.
The first stars above began to wink into existence, as if in answer to the glowbaskets’ appearance; chief among them the perpetual pulse of the Red Star, a silently malicious presence they both knew would greet their gazes, were they to glance in its direction. Thread-bringer, it blinked. Herald of Pass upon Pass upon Pass upon Pass, even Passes long since faded from Pernese memory. The most significant reason why all dragonkind even existed in the first place. Why all the Weyrs of Pern existed. The biggest reason why they worked now in the Healer’s Wing… P’earl quietly shut off the relevant memories of the pair’s thirteen Turns, particularly those spent tending to varying Threadscores and other such horrors inflicted in countless Threadfalls.
Tonight was not for such remembrances.
This was a precious moment in time, few and far between, where neither dragon nor rider had urgent tasks to do.
No, indeed, tonight was for living in the here and now, not in the past.
They sat companionably, Aemith occasionally shifting in irritated discomfort, as the last of the sunset hues faded from of the skies. Vibrantly star-spangled night crept across them, like a giant pin-pricked blanket above the dimly-lit Weyr, and still they sat. Minuscule snores wafted up from Solar, the little gold firelizard happily ensconced somewhere within P’earl’s clothing. A wintery breeze soon began to pick up, its icy tendrils nipping at what exposed skin there was of the thirty-something woman’s face, and she sighed.
I think I’ll go in soon. Bit cold for the likes of me! Happy stayin’ out here, love?
Aemith stretched out as she rose onto her feet, the glowing dragon’s vague irritation suddenly consolidating into a crystal-clear need. To blood a herdbeast or two, to spread her wings, to seek joy in a sky full of stars. To FLY!
The garnet did not notice the mildly smug twitch of P’earl’s lips as her rider silently withdrew into their weyr, unanswered. Or, perhaps, that building desire alone felt through their shared bond was answer enough. Aemith bugled loudly, her pulse quickening even as she immediately dove for the feeding grounds. She bled through one, then two, herdbeasts, her long slim tail lashing, until she felt satisfactorily sated. She bugled again, a ringing feminine roar, as her star-splattered wings spread to catch the chilled breeze.
Then she leapt for the glittering sky. NOW, she’d FLY!
FINALLY. Dragons of Fort Weyr, I rise!! Who among you WILL fly with me in this great big sky of stars?