Disclaimer: I own nothing of Pern. It is the property of Anne McCaffrey.
Author's Note: This was my first fan fiction ever, written some five or six years ago. Some of you may remember it from the KTL Fan Fiction Forum. I figured since the new guidelines have opened McCaffrey fan fiction up to a larger audience, I'd share it here. I have edited it a bit.
Silence Song
Nerrim was the only child of Xeander and Malyn. She was born too soon and in the midst of one of the fevers that grip holds from time to time. Masterhealer Shadaniel plucked the tiny girl-child from death's embrace. However, he couldn't stop the fever from stealing her voice and much of her strength.
Upon hearing the Masterhealer's pronouncement, Maylan watched her daughter crying silently and began to tear her hair. After three miscarriages, it seemed the only living child born to her would not last the month. She dissolved in to howling sobs. Xeander could do nothing but hold his wife until her sobs gave way to exhaustion.
The next morning, Xeander set to work in the hold archives. High Reaches had no small amount of history to be sure. After two months of searching, he finally found references to a man in his grandsire's day that could neither hear nor speak. The text said only that he was a Journeyman Herder who communicated using his hands.
Xeander took his findings to the hold harper, Koden. The harper was somewhat bored with half his students confined to bed and was happy to aid the archivist in his search. He requested the aid of other harpers, while Xeander spoke to the elderly holders. Surely either one of them, or some other soul in Nerrim's condition would know the hand language.
"I learned a lot from him," Masterherder Ethcole told Xeander later that afternoon. "I was an apprentice while he worked here. My master taught all of us in the beast hall the hand language."
Ethcole readily agreed to teach Koden what he could remember of the language. Xeander was overjoyed by the man's generosity. Surely this would bring Malyn out of the trance she had been in since little Nerrim lost her voice. The child was slowly growing stronger and now there was hope of speaking with her one day.
As Nerrim grew older, it became evident her voice was the only thing the fever had stolen from her. She was perfectly able to hear and see. She learned her teaching ballads quickly and possessed tiny, nimble fingers that made her useful almost anywhere. Yet, Nerrim was much weaker than others of her age. At twelve turns, she was no larger than most children of seven. Masterhealer Shadaniel feared Nerrim would never live to see her twentieth turn as long as she lived at High Reaches. He told Malyn her daughter needed to be where holds were more open. Her weakened health simply couldn't deal with the crush of people trapped inside in the winter months.
Malyn fretted unendingly about what Shadaniel had told her. The only answer she could see was to foster Nerrim to a family from a warmer hold. Yet, how would she do so? She knew no one outside of High Reaches. She decided to turn to Falyara, the head cook of the hold and her friend.
"What about Silvina?" Falyara asked after Malyn told her of Shadaniel's diagnosis. "Abuna was my foster child, surely she could talk to Silvina. Fort Hold's not Ista, but it is warmer than here."
"Oh Falyara," Malyn cried. "Do you think she would?"
"If she doesn't, she'll have me to deal with." Falyara patted Malyn's shoulder. "I'll go write to her now if you'll mind the kitchen."
Malyn nodded, tears streaming down her face. Falyara smiled reassuringly and glided quickly out the door.
Three seven days later, Nerrim arrived at Fort Hold. She found the warmth hard to believe. She reveled in it. For once in her life, she was not cold.
Three men and a woman met the travelers as they entered the courtyard. The woman approached Nerrim. She not only spoke her greeting but signed it as well. Nerrim smiled and said she hadn't expected anyone to know the hand language.
The woman laughed. "When I heard about your method of speaking, I made sure to have one of the harpers teach everyone in the kitchens how to do the same." Her face showed a slight uncertainty. "You can hear, can't you dear?" she asked.
"Yes, I can," Nerrim signed. "Only my vocal cords were damaged."
"Ah, good," the woman answered with some relief. She turned, motioning for Nerrim to follow. "My name is Silvina. I understand you're to be working with me in the hall's kitchens."
"Yes, mam," Nerrim signed.
"Well, I'll take you to your room and let you settle in. You'll be sharing with some of the other girls."
The next few seven days in the Harper Hall kitchens passed happily for Nerrim. She'd always loved music, whether it was played by harpers or simple holders who had learned to play a hand pipe or drum as a child. To be surrounded day after day by so many harpers and their apprentices was unbelievable. All day long, she would listen to the songs as she worked. She would sing along with them in her head, as she was unable to do so otherwise. Nerrim thought such was for the best. Her parents had been completely tone deaf. Surely she would just annoy the other kitchen drudges if she sung aloud.
Silvina's call woke Nerrim from her reverie. "Nerrim, come help Menolly with her fair will you? Camo's ill."
Nerrim nodded and obeyed quickly. She'd heard stories of Menolly. How wonderful that the girl had become a Journeywoman after suffering so much!
She felt somewhat dwarfed by the unyieldingly tall harper. Yet, she seemed so kind. The firelizards flying about her head darted about with such speed Nerrim's head began to spin. She was relieved when they settled down to perch on Menolly and herself.
Menolly spoke to Nerrim as they stuffed the meat scraps into the greedy little muzzles. Nerrim felt horrible. She couldn't reply, for her hands were completely occupied with feeding the fair. After a while, Menolly remembered hearing about a mute girl who had come to work in the hall kitchens. She dropped off her attempts to chat as they worked.
A soft trill began to float about in the air. Menolly jumped and looked about for the tune's source. It was Mimic who was singing. He had perched on Nerrim's shoulder. The girl seemed not to notice the firelizard's song, yet Menolly knew the girl could hear. The rest of the fair joined in the melody. Menolly saw Nerrim smile, and the chorus grew louder.
Harper's heads, still heavy with sleep, began to emerge from their windows. All held silent. Menolly's unusual fair had never sung unbidden before. They had always followed the strain sung by others.
"Are your firelizards composing now as well?" asked Master Robinton from behind the two girls. Menolly and Nerrim both jumped. The Masterharper did have a way of moving silently that allowed him to enter a room without notice. The hall fell silent.
Menolly shook her head slowly. "No, Master Robinton," she answered. "They were giving voice to Nerrim's silenced song."