Finneth's Flight

[Xinnai]

Finneth could feel strength burning away much as the sun was eviscerating the clouds. With every sweep of leathery wings, it was slipping away, water between cupped hands. Every twist, every turn, was nearly laborious now, was tedious in the extreme. She teetered to one side, feeling suddenly exhausted. She'd gone beyond the bounds now and had to choose, had to choose fast.

Still, she propelled herself farther and farther, knowing it was a doomed effort. They would catch up now. They would catch up now and try to take her. But she must choose, she must. So thinking, she flipped to the right, sliding into a blessed current, letting it take her as mind whirled. The best, she would have the best.

The mind was suddenly staggering as images flew into it, blinding her, sent from one of those suitors. Through the blur, she struggled through much as she struggled in the effort to keep airborne. Lesmajath. She'd seen him upon numerous occasions. Had they ever had the glory he spoke of? She did not know.

And there was the other, Mallarth. He was a vaguely remembered shape as well. Light blue. She knew him little. He had been a strong contender and she thoughtfully wondered if perhaps he were to be the one she'd grace with soft scales, claws and the longed for twining of emerald body and his.

And then Daisulyth. The only brown in the race. Daisulyth who was big and strong, who taunted the others with his much larger wingspan. The memory came, foggy for sure but there, of the brown convincing her rider home after a day of violence. Daisulyth. Would it be he?

She could feel energy being sapped off, almost as if she had a hole in her hide and it was spilling through, leaving her feeling dreadfully tired and leaden-winged. The choice had to be made. Now.

Sure she had enough strength for this, Finneth slipped down, viewing him objectively. Strong, if he were here, but strong enough to hold them, to effectively hold her? She thought so. He was a rather fabulous specimen of dragon. With a high call of choice, a light bugle of challenge, the green slipped in next to the brown, twining body with his as wings gave out. She gave a soft croon. Daisulyth was hers.

Within his quarters, K'houry staggered, sea foam eyes blinking and clearing as he exploded into himself, shock predominant through his mind. In a part of his consciousness, he could feel his green's actions but he couldn't focus on them. All he could feel was the shock.

Limbs sagged to the furs as his eyes flicked over those men amassed within. But he was looking only for one. The very boyish face of I'dayln, the Weyrlingmaster with whom he had such passionate dislike. And Finneth was at the moment plunging in the sky with his brown.

The greenrider stood slowly, hand clawing at his desk to keep himself upright, not sure whether it was his thorough surprise or the actions of his dragon that made him unable to stand upright. He took a step forward before mind was suddenly linked with Finneth's and he gave a light cry, swaying drunkenly.

[Omnia Munda]

The green and brown hadn't even locked tails when Lesmajath's lust turned to rage. He had the sense to keep his fury to himself - Finneth would have no more of him today. His extended contact with her snapped closed like shutters slamming over a cothold's window.

He hated it when the females were weak.

More seething and dangerous in his silence than he'd ever been in his singing, Lesmajath blinked into between. He'd come out high over the mountains at the northernmost watch over the wastes, sailing through the summer snow, and be cooler soon.

In K'houry's weyr, D'nor was less infuriated. He'd seen it so many times in his turns that he could only be amused: the greens that quit their flights to 'choose' from among their suitors. So long as it wasn't the queens refusing to see it out to conclusion and accept the strongest of those that chased, though, who could complain? No one cared if a green took a lesser mate than she might have been legitimately caught by. There'd be no eggs to count.

He was a little irritated, however, to be now obliged to find a way out of the greenrider's weyr, and without Les to carry him. Hopefully the Weyrlingmaster's son - Weyrlingmaster, came the correction again - would be out of the way shortly and he could blow through the inner door into the tunnels.

D'nor started across the weyr to do just that, glancing at K'tel along the way. The rough-faced bluerider's expression was knowing and exasperated, whether because he'd been abandoned (as always) by his beast or because of the green's ploy. Let the other man follow if he willed.

[Invisible]

In the weyr K’tel’s shoulders slumped for a moment when it was over. He was not mad, not furious, but he was very annoyed. Mallarth would sulk until he forgot about losing. The bluerider would go back to his weyr and the man left warming his bed. But first he had to get there. Which meant going around the winner. He couldn’t help the smirk that took over his lips, the cruelty that rose up at losing.

Mallarth’s rage fueled it and so while the blue landed hard on his ledge and curled up into a tight, sulky, angry ball his rider let loose a rather unfriendly laugh. The laugh was shared with D’nor as the two losers were forced to make their way out. It’s possible the brownrider might have heard, should flight lust not have completely overridden his senses. It didn’t matter to K’tel.

He uttered two words with a sneer in his voice as he walked off the way of D’nor. “Daddy issues.”

[anhydrous]

Finneth’s growing exhaustion was not lost on Daisulyth. The solitary brown trailing after the female’s upward climb could plainly see her quivering muscles, and watched in satisfaction as her wingbeats became labored. She became even more coveted in such a state, when he knew that she was moments away from twining her luxurious green hide with his. His whirling eyes drank in her fatigue greedily, wingtips ever reaching for her.

It was only a matter of time before Finneth’s exhaustion beat her instinctual desire of the sky, and he would be waiting to catch her.

He didn’t have to wait long. Angling his flight pattern closer, Daisulyth eagerly listened for her prompt to snatch her out of the sky. She never offered one, instead seeking out the best to carry her home. Without warning her wings faltered, her body winding around his with the softest of tender dragonsounds. This had been no competition, Finneth had chosen him.

Clasping her strongly to his chest, Daisulyth eagerly knotted her neck with his. He was lost to her coils, every muscle intent to hold her as close as he could. Enrapt, the pair fell, down through the cloudbanks, twisting tones of green and brown streaking through the sky, lost to the pleasures that they found in the immodest embrace.

Every sensation was echoed in I’dalyn’s slim frame, the man lost in the furious whirl of emotions that his dragon refused to control. He couldn’t have heard K’tel’s biting insult if he had tried, and Faranth only knew he wouldn’t have done anything about it even if he were able. Perhaps that marked him as a weak man, but right now, it didn’t matter in the slightest.

Suddenly beside the prize that his dragon had won, I’dalyn replaced the other man’s grip on the desk with a grip on himself. The slightest touch sent him reeling, fingers knotted in K’houry’s clothes. Without the capacity to think of the consequences, I’dalyn turned the older man towards the bed to satisfy the voracious intentions that rippled from his dragon’s mind. A dragon who, when I’dalyn was conscious again, he was going to strangle.

Unaware, or perhaps, uncaring of his rider’s thoughts on the matter, Daisulyth furled his wings to check their downward fall. The ride down had left him invigorated, and he needn’t call on any carefully reserved strength to carry his lovely Finneth home. Still wrapped together in the throes of passion, Daisulyth’s broad sails caught at the air to transform their downward plummet into a gentle gliding spiral. He intended to savor his prize.

[Xinnai]

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