My Fair Lady [Callistath's Flight!]

It was another long day of waiting in their weyr. Valleth was crouched on the ledge, front talons clinging to its edge. L'ven was silently stitching a patch on an old pair of riding pants. It was hard to say who was tenser, the dragon or his 'rider. Both shared a quiet sense of desperation. Ever since L'ven had Impressed the Bronze, they had been waiting for the moment Callistath blooded for her first Flight. L'ven smiled slightly, remembering the first words Valleth spoke to him, informing him that he was Valleth, he had Impressed to L'ven, and that he thought Callistath was pretty. Well, here they were, three Turns later, and the pretty dragoness had the blindingly bright hide of one about to Fly. Of course the Bronzepair would Chase.

L'ven was ambitious. It had always been one of his most prevalent traits. And, so far, he had found great success as a dragonrider. Wingsecond right out of Weyrlinghood was nothing to sneeze at! However, he knew full well that a lot of that was due to Valleth's color. However, winning a Queenflight took more than a dragon with a shiny hide. Becoming Jr. Weyrleader was not something that was eventually handed out to all Kingriders who showed mere competence. He liked to believe that he had worked hard for his chance at the post-- studying, shadowing, spending hours in the records room. Ever since Gneith's Flight, he and Valleth had spent much of their days in the skies, building wind and endurance. However, L'ven could not kid himself. Avalle had O'ris. Her dragon's choice would have very little to do with who she thought would be the best Jr. Weyrleader. It would all come down to Callistath, and, therefore, it would be up to Valleth to impress her.

But luckily for the young man with stars in his eyes, his dragon was as eager to win as he was. Valleth had already lost Gneith. There was no way he was going to lose Callistath, too. He loved the Queen. He had been by her side since the day they had hatched. Surely that counted for something. She was not open with her affections, but the Bronze liked to think that she liked him more than most. Maybe he was deluded; maybe he was blinded by love. But maybe there was a kernel of truth in what he thought. He dreamed to have her as his, not as some unattainable dragoness upon whom he often forced his company. Perhaps that day was today. She was certainly shining brightly enough.

And so, the pair waited. Valleth laid the tip of his nose on the stone of the weyrledge, but he kept his eyes trained on the slumbering golden form in the distance. The moment she moved, so would he. He would not have to be called to her. This Flight was not something he would do on a whim, nor because the instincts of his rank would make him. This was something he had always meant to do, something long planned. The Bronze was crouched, haunches coiled, hind talons digging into the stone, fore talons gripping the edge, wings carefully arranged on his back. Every few minutes he would stand, stretch like a feline, and flap his wings a few time to avoid any stiffness. Every time, the resulting wind startled L'ven, who was already jumpy from nerves.

Valleth got up to move around and stretch his wings again, this time causing L'ven to jump so hard that he stabbed himself in the fleshy pad of his thumb with the sewing needle. The Bronzerider cursed and rubbed the tiny wound furiously. Faranth, he would be glad when the waiting was over. But, still, it was going to be a long Flight, full of nerves worse than this, a feeling of helplessness (he trusted his dragon to do his best, but L'ven still didn't like the idea of handing over the reins completely to Valleth. He much preferred doing something to help than to let any other, even his mindmate, take complete control), and trying to suppress his feelings of lust. The last thing he wanted to was to accidentally jump someone at the end, particularly Avalle if they happened to win, and particularly if O'ris was there as well. Shard it, he should have remembered earlier that it was likely the Goldrider was going to have O'ris be her substitute-- why had he not asked Lynx to do the same? He supposed that would have felt too much like counting his firelizards before they hatched. He didn't want to do anything to jinx their chances.

He set down the sewing for a minute and stood next to Valleth to peer at Callistath. The Queen was still enthralled in that deep slumber that preceded Flight, not that L'ven had expected anything different. If she had risen, Valleth would already be gone. He raised a hand to rub Valleth's eyeridge, but the dragon gave no indication he felt the fond caress. Belying the inertness of his great body, Valleth's eyes were a tumultuous and swirling yellow of anxiety, already shot through with a few streaks of lustful purple. "Almost time, big guy," L'ven said quietly. Valleth blinked once to show that he had heard. Turning back to his weyr, L'ven sighed heavily, but that did nothing to slow his racing heart. He wished for a moment that Valleth was a normal dragon and would let both of them go about their day until it was time. But, no, Valleth would do nothing but sit on the ledge and stalk his chosen dragoness until the moment she Rose. When it came to females, Valleth didn't do anything half-heartedly.

Then, suddenly, L'ven felt an overpowering lurch in his stomach, all adrenaline and lust, that told him what he needed to know. He turned just in time to see Valleth push himself powerfully off of the ledge just a split second after Callistath did the same. The Bronze's wings snapped open, and he bugled powerfully. The sound echoed through the Weyrbowl, announcing to all that he was here and ready to Chase! The Bronze glided gracefully towards the herdbeast pens, backwinging and landing lightly a good distance away from Callistath. He rumbled a greeting to her and sank to one knee to bow to her. Though she probably wouldn't notice the gestures, it couldn't hurt to be polite. Then, Valleth sank his claws into a herdbeast of his own and drained it of its blood, copying Callistath. L'ven reminded him to blood it only, but Valleth didn't need to be told. He finished the first and blooded a second for good measure. Two would provide plenty of energy for him. Desire would provide enough on its own.

L'ven made his way to Avalle's weyr. He was in no hurry to get there. He was dreading the moment when he would look upon one of his closest friends and be drowned in dragonlust. Fortunately, he knew O'ris would not let even the winner get close to Avalle when all was said and done, and he'd be the only one there mostly unaffected by Flightlust. But, still, L'ven walked quickly. He did want to arrive before he was completely blinded by dragonlust, especially considering how perilous navigating from the highest weyrs to the lowest was even under the best of conditions. L'ven slipped into her weyr, among the last to arrive. His eyes were immediately drawn to Avalle. Faranth, she was radiant... but, no, he couldn't think like that! He turned to O'ris instead. The Cyanrider was his friend, despite the fact that the part of him that was becoming Valleth was screaming, 'Competitor!' He offered O'ris a friendly smile. "Don't mind me. She's yours, my friend." With that, L'ven leaned against the doorway and closed his eyes, letting himself become Valleth. He'd stick with his dragon half and let the human half be as unobtrusive as possible.

As Callistath blooded the last of her herdbeasts, Valleth sat back on his haunches, still as a statue, simply drinking in her beauty. Only his twitching tail revealed his anxiety. Callistath was still blooding, even managing such a grisly task with utmost elegance and grace. Valleth was mesmerized. However, the Bronze did take the opportunity to look around at his competition. There was a Brown he knew by sight but not by name. Then, he spotted Mesreath, which rather surprised him. A female, Durian, rode him... a female Jr. Weyrleader? He saw an Iron and immediately bristled, but it was not Detritath... it was his wingleader! Valleth knew he was competent, having trained under him for a few seasons now, and decided he was the one to watch out for. But did any know Callistath like he did? She finished blooding, and his attention was instantly riveted back to her. She did not take instantly to the skies, but stood where she was for a moment more, surveying them. Valleth dipped his head reverently, but made no sound.

Then, she was off! Valleth rocked back on his haunches and launched himself into the air, his massive wings propelling him up and up after Callistath. He took great care not to push himself too hard in these early stages. It was going to be a long, nearly torturous Flight, and there was plenty of time to make up ground lost here. Still, he was not left behind. The wingbeats came quickly and easily. The initial climb was made without the slightest strain. Valleth settled into his steady rhythm. He was ready for this marathon of a Flight. His color gave him strength and endurance, his experience gave him knowledge, and his love gave him heart. He was young, yes, and he had yet to win a Flight, but he was confident. Any misgivings, any sense of desperation that he had felt while waiting on his ledge had vanished the second he had taken to the air. Who was to say he couldn't win this one?

The great King bugled again, praising Callistath. She was surely the most beautiful dragoness to set wing in Dalibor, no, on Pern! Ever! How was it that so few dragons came to Chase? She deserved every single King on the planet! He was delighted that he was finally here, Chasing her and having the opportunity to win her love, to sire her clutch! Why had so many ignored a privilege like this? He longed to be nearer to her, but he had to be patient. It would not do to try and run her down in these early stages. Callistath would not be caught, she would choose. He had been waiting for this too long to ruin it with impatience. This was too important. The Gold deserved only the best from every single dragon present. He would not let himself down. He would not let His down. He would not let her down.

L'ven was trying to ignore Avalle, O'ris, and all the other suitors. He was trying to shut himself out of her weyr and fly with Valleth. However, the dragons were all still on the ground; though they were done blooding, Callistath had yet to take off. The effects of a Flight weren't quite strong enough to fully merge minds yet. Curiosity won out, and the Bronzerider turned a small bit of his attention back to the events inside the weyr. L'ven kept his eyes closed, and he missed the small smile the Jr. Weyrwoman sent his way, but he heard her next words, finally accepting O'ris and cementing what pretty much everyone had known all along. He was glad. The Goldrider and the Cyanrider were his friends, and they had both been waiting for each other for a long time. And, hopefully, having O'ris there would make her first Flight easier on Avalle. So many dragon and 'rider pairs shared weyrmates: Fajra and Kalith and O'sho and Daidoroth, R'ori and Vediameth and F'let and Doppelith, Sol and Eccolath and B'rak and Shoth, to name a few. Poor Avalle and O'ris would never have that option. But, either way, Avalle and her five suitors would go through a whirlwind of emotion, and when the dust settled, he knew it'd be far easier for her to be with her love than with a friend or a stranger. She was lucky she had him. And though it had to be awfully embarrassing, it was probably fortunate that the declarations of love had been made here and now. Hopefully it would be enough to make the eventual winner keep away. With those happy thoughts, L'ven let himself become one with Valleth. What happened in the weyr mattered no longer. Now, it was all about what happened in the skies!

She was beautiful. Almost tragically so. There was a strong strain in Valleth's chest, but it was not from fatigue; far from it. The great weight of his desire to fly with her, not after her; to be her one, not one of her five, pulled at his heartstrings. It was a heavy burden, but it was also a helium balloon. It weighed him down and lifted him up. It threatened to distract him and send him spiraling to the ground, and it gave him the ability to follow her past his physical limits, to follow her through any and all punishing tests she would put them through. He longed for her! Every fiber of his being was straining towards her, but every time his heart tried to send him rocketing forward towards her, his head butted in, reminding him that this was going to be a long, grueling Flight and that he needed to pace himself. So, Valleth waited, but he found it most torturous to merely follow after her as they climbed. He could not wait for the moment where they were all spent and they could put forward all they had towards catching her. Had it not been for the size and vitality of her future clutch, Valleth would have undoubtedly tried to catch her, not pace himself, right from the beginning. It was a marathon, and Valleth was having difficulty remembering that the sprint came at the end, not the beginning. Such was his desire for her!

She was a lady. There was no denying that. She had been a lady from the day she'd been shelled, and she was a lady now. What other dragoness could outshine Rukbat's rays so brilliantly? What other dragoness could usurp the sun? She was beauty in the very definition of the word, all slender grace and ravishing elegance covered in a robe of the purest gold. Callistath was simply and irrefutably perfect. She was the very definition of the word. And, yet... she was still more than that. Perfect implied a stiffness, a predictability. Perfect was unattainable and boring, something to strive for but never to reach. If Callistath were perfect, he would not dare to Chase her. She was above perfect. She was not only flawless, she was enrapturing, awe-inspiring, undeniably desirable. She was perfect, yet five dragons still dared to Chase her! She was perfect, yet none of them could keep their eyes off of her! She was perfect, yet there was more! Valleth's heart ached for her. When his eyes were upon her, it was hard to imagine that anything less than brilliance and happiness existed in the world. When he looked at her, he couldn't help but drink in the wonder of her: her beauty, her intelligence, her regality, her kindness, her elegance, her grace, everything about her that made her Callistath, Queen of Dalibor. When he looked at her, he had to remind his wings to beat! And yet, she drew him onward with that magnetic pull of hers. He would follow her even if he didn't have wings!

She still paid her suitors no attention, early as it was, but she soon would. Valleth would fly his hide off to impress her. His feelings for Callistath ran so deep that they were embedded in his very soul. She had shaped him for the better. She had made him chivalrous. The Bronze had always striven to be nobler, harder-working, more charming, more gentlemanly, and it was always because of her. She had been a Queen from her hatching day, and he had always been her little knight in shining armor, dreaming of the day when he might be worthy of her romantic attentions. So he had trained and practiced, he had thrown himself into every challenge possible, he had done everything to prove to her that he was worth a second look. Sure, he had strayed along the way, letting other females distract him, but in the end, his heart was with her. He had not known it until a few sevendays ago, but now, he had no doubt. He had gone off track, but his love for her had guided him back on the right path. Now, here he was, and here she was. This was his final opportunity to show her that he was the most worthy of all of her suitors. Callistath could have almost any dragon she desired. He had to measure up. The young knight was going into battle for her. It was time for do or die. He would succeed. He would not fail her and himself. Nearly every dragon present had Turns and experience on him, but Valleth did not let that daunt him. The knight would gladly take on the kingdom's champion for her.

He had no right to be, but he was confident. He knew his feelings were deeper, his love was stronger than any other dragon here trying to win her heart. How could they dream of winning her heart when she didn't have theirs? If they lost, they would be disappointed, but not crushed. They would take their hearts back and try to fling it on the next dragoness that took to the skies. That was not true of Valleth. He had given her his long ago. He'd tried to give it to the Green, too, but she could not return what he had thought had been his love. And how could she, if Valleth's heart had never been his to give away in the first place? Callistath, he said to himself, it's yours. Take care of it. It had taken Valleth a long time to get straightened out, but, finally, the Bronze was ready to love and be devoted. He might always be a flirt, and he might always appreciate a pretty dragoness, but never again would he try to love any other. Finally, he fully trusted his heart with Callistath. He would never again try to rip it out of her talons and give it to someone else. It wasn't right. He was ready... but could he prove it to her? Would she be able to believe his sincerity after his past transgressions? He hoped Callistath could trust him with her heart now. But, if she couldn't trust him, who could she trust? Certainly not one of these unknown or strange dragons that fancied them suitors! But should his past outweigh his present, should she remain dubious of his fidelity and choose another, he'd wait. He would wait Turns until she was ready to Fly again, and by then, he would show her that he was true to her and her alone! Eventually, she would be his! But, eventually was too long to wait. He had to show her that he was worthy now!

He longed for her to look back at him. It was just him and her in the sky. No one else mattered. They were alone, with nothing but empty space full of light. It was a whole new world. It was their world. She was Queen of the Skies, and he would be her King. She'd share her world with him. But he knew a thing or two about the skies himself! He could show her things she'd never imagined, if she chose him! The thought that he could broaden Callistath's horizons while stretching his own, the thought of them making discoveries together... it thrilled him. Because wonderful and perfect as she was, she was still incomplete. He was still incomplete. Both of them had experienced the wholeness that came from falling in love, through their own Impressions, and they both now knew the joy of bonding with another of their own kind in a way that ran nearly as deep as Impression, through L'ven finding his Lynx and Avalle finding her O'ris. They had yet to experience it for themselves. Valleth knew he was Callistath's. Did she feel the same? He didn't know. They were well acquainted, but the Gold treated all of her subjects with a similar ladylike air. She hadn't marked Valleth as special. But, what Valleth did know was that feelings this strong couldn't be one-sided. There was something. He had to convince her that they were meant for each other as surely as Theirs belonged to their weyrmates and they belonged to Theirs. And so the Bronze sang. The long climb had been little strain. His own strength and a series of helpful thermals had ensured that he had plenty of air to spare. The melody was simple, but his voice was powerful. His whole body shook with the emotion of it, one passionate note at a time. He let them float ahead of him and surround her, caress her. The song could do what he only longed to.

When she turned off sharply, Valleth was caught by surprise, but his eyes whirled still brighter. This was the challenge he was looking for! Finally, a chance to show Callistath what he could really do! His muscles were lovely and warm. There was no chance of stiffness, no chance of a bobble that would lose him his Queen. He was feeling good and on top of his game! The Bronze ended his song with a final, bugling note. Then, he turned, but not to the left, as Callistath had. Instead, he dipped his inside wing down and spun tightly to the right, turning two-hundred-seventy degrees before whipping out of the turn and shooting after Callistath. He was no muscle-bound, hulking, clumsy King who was only formidable on a straight line! No! He was Valleth, and he had style. He was no match for Callistath, but he was not one to be ignored! He knew he should conserve himself. He knew this was nowhere near over. But Callistath was giving them an opportunity to show her what they had got, and Valleth would be a fool to ignore the opportunity. The Bronze shot forward, unabashedly flying as quickly as he could. He swung to Callistath's far right, giving her plenty of berth, taking several moments to simply admire her perfect grace in the air. The Gold's skill and elegance was unrivaled.

But Valleth, too, was not done showing off. One little turn and a small burst of speed were nothing to a Queen like her! She was dancing for them! He needed to dance for her! Valleth moved lithely through the air, taking to the skies as a fish did to water. It was his domain. He knew how to manipulate it to suit his needs, and he was well versed in adjusting himself to fit its nuances. He demonstrated his prowess while she danced. He could not match her. While she was graceful and beautiful, pure poetry in motion, he was all flexing muscle and dashing boldness. He cut through the air, diving down then ricocheting upward again. His Bronze hide gleamed as he barrel rolled, then immediately swung side to side, whisking his wings through the air with ease. Tiredness could not touch him yet. The sweetest air on Pern was that in which Callistath flew. Valleth inhaled it, let it refresh and energize him. The Bronze was feeling fresh and lively, simply so ecstatic that he was here, Chasing Callistath, that he couldn't help but flaunt his skills. Utter delight filled him, pushing out any fatigue. He felt invincible! He continued to push himself, making himself still more impressive. He darted and swooped dramatically, demonstrating his athleticism. He could not match Callistath, none of them could, but perhaps it would be enough to catch her attention.

The Bronze's blood was up and he continued to dive and twist. His heart was singing. He flew because he loved Callistath and Chasing her, no matter what the outcome, felt so right. However, the logical part of his brain finally cut in-- or was that L'ven's influence? It reined Valleth in, reminding him what was still come. It was absolutely imperative that he still had the strength and stamina to last until the end. He couldn't spend himself too soon. And so the Bronze spun again in the air, back-flipping and soaring far underneath Callistath. He let his momentum carry him back up to her level, but now he was behind her rather than beside her. The Bronze would conserve himself now. He had shown her all he could at the moment; he had to remember the final test. Skills in the air were all fine and good, and it might separate the best from the rest, but she would challenge their endurance, tenacity, and heart at the end. He had to remain ready. He had to be prudent. Coasting comfortably behind her, Valleth allowed himself to catch his breath. He did not like to admit it, but now that the joy of showing off for her had worn off, he could feel touches of tiredness in his wings. He had pushed himself hard to impress Callistath, to even approach her league. Obviously, he did not regret the effort, and he was not worried about what was to come. It would take far, far more than a few minutes' flaunting to wear him out! Moreover, the tiredness was nothing to fear! It was something to be proud of! Valleth relished every aching muscle and every difficult breath that he would have by the end of this Flight. The more exhausted he was, the more he had done to do all he could for Callistath! He would be disappointed in himself if he were not a little bit tired after showing off for her. He eagerly awaited her next challenge. He loved her all the more for her tests. He loved that she would not give herself to one of them so easily. He would happily fly to the ends of the world for her. The more she tested, the more he would be able to prove to her!

Valleth was a new dragon in a new world. It was a most wondrous world because it was one in which Callistath was his only. He hated himself for taking so long to realize that, but late was always better than never. He was an undisciplined adolescent no longer. Maybe he had taken far longer than most to grow up mentally, but that didn't matter. He was grown now. The world was brighter. He so desired to share his new world with Callistath! He would show her what a wonderful world it could be!

Her and him. Gold and Bronze. Callistath and Valleth. Together. Forever. It was a beautiful dream. Could it be reality? Her and him, in a bright new world with a bright new future, stretching out through their entire lifetimes and beyond. Could it be true? It could!

Her flying, and him chasing. Her leading, and him always following. The excitement of the moment would never wear off. He was enthralled, captivated by her. Oh, for her to let him catch her! But, until then, he would revel in every heart-pounding, adrenaline-rushing, thrill-filled moment of the pursuit.

He wouldn't want to be anywhere else right now but in the sky with her. All was right with the world. He had long forgotten about the others. Her and him, ruling the skies. It was wonderful.

He wanted her. He needed her. He loved her. He would win her!