On The Line {Kalith's Fourth Flight}

Zeppelin never left her,
Never died or second guessed her,
Painted on her body,
The stars would never hurt her.

Hey, Sonia! The young greenrider made a small noise in the back of her throat, but she didn't look up from her sewing. She'd manage to tear holes in half of her clothing, so she was remedying that, even though she could have gone and asked for new clothes from the stores or perhaps a gift from an apprentice weaver. Her flight gear was her nicest clothing and she thought them more than enough. Kalith is flying. Sonia had noticed, so she just made another small noise, feigning interest that Aimeth knew wasn't real. The feelings of lust tickled in the back of her mind, sending her fair into a tizzy about the small weyr, but she was used to their antics and also used to flights. It wasn't as if Aimeth was the sort to become enamored with another dragon's flightlust, too young or not. She continued with her mending as if nothing was happening.

Lebeth is going to chase. Aimeth had been saving that bit and was ridiculously proud that her rider hadn't picked up on it before she'd chosen to reveal it. Sonia's head jerked up and she stared through the archway into the main part of the weyr, where Aimeth lay, sprawled across the stonework. She ruined one stitch in her surprise before her hands stopped, settling neatly onto her lap as if she were a tiny doll lady. Her mind briefly recounted a great many things, but she settled on shock and turned it into polite shock at that. Interesting. Do you think he's not an idiot now? Sonia kept her tone neutral, even towards Aimeth. Her bright eyes were the only thing that revealed any interest to the green. Of course not. It's Lebeth. I'm expecting failure. Her rider made a noise in the back of her throat and returned to sewing.

Aimeth rumbled with amusement in response, flicking her tail in a sassy but happy manner. She turned her swirling eyes back to the sky outside. Perhaps I should wish him luck; she teased, feigning interest in the idea of speaking to him. Sonia kept her eyes down and kept sewing, even as her jaw gave a twitch and she responded. Her tone showed no lack of will or dislike of her dragon's out of place joking. Don't even think about it. I'd strongly prefer that you not get killed by Kalith. In response, Aimeth sighed in boredom. It wasn't like she was scared of the Queen. She respected the copper, but sassing the Queen of Dalibor seemed like fun. Anyway, remember the last time you talked to Lebeth? Immediately, the green's mood darkened, a growl rumbling in her throat. Stupid sharding bronze. Exactly.

Kalith heard them rise after her. She recognized Daidoroth's voice, but she did not turn to see if he was there. She did not turn to examine any of them. She knew that there were three, but she felt no need to know more. She had heard another voice that she dimly recognized, but it was not like Daidoroth's call. She could not place it through her lust. It meant that were new suitors in this flight, ones who had not dared to pursue her before. Had they finally found the courage? She would see. On wings of copper hide and ruddy brown membrane, backlit with the wintery glow of Rukbat, she sailed into the sky, drawing them away from the Weyr. The air was chilly, but she hardly noticed. Blood pulsed in her veins, an energizing feeling that invigorated her ichor and through that her body. Strength flowed through her and she flew on with deftness.

As the moments passed, Kalith finally grew bored with simply flying. She twisted her neck and dipped down into a shallow dive, forcing them to follow. All of them were bronzes. She had three bronze suitors. She knew all of them and placed their names from the distant pieces of her memory. Their names hardly mattered. All she needed to know was that two of them were young. Daidoroth was the oldest by a lot. But would he win? She slowed and twisted to the side, taunting him, taunting them all. She looked them over with swirling eyes. Her mood quickly soured and the teasing stopped. Such useless, petty, jovial creatures! She hissed and rose up, pushing herself straight up on strong, broad wings after the small, lackadaisical dive. Her voice cut through the thin air once more, the hiss becoming a roar. Lazy, ponderous, idiotic creatures!

Whipping around, Kalith faced them once more. She flicked her wings, rose a small bit more, and then lunged forward. She fell on Valleth, hooking her claws into his back. She was no young dragoness, foolish and simply eager for blood. The disrespectful bronze was going to pay and he would have no chance at catching her, for she kept her wings stretched back, out of reach as she weighed down on him, her claws digging into his hide. After a short drop, she released her hold, her sharp nails scrambling across his neck until she promptly kicked him in the face with one hind paw. Then she left him to his fate and soared off, bringing her wings down in one powerful stroke. She glided on a small thermal, thinking nothing about what she had just done. Ichor dripped from her claws, but it hardly mattered. Valleth wasn't worthy of her time.

Fajra flew with Kalith, as was expected. However, when she turned to look through one blurry eye at what was behind her, she found only O'sho. She tried to keep that fact from her copper, a useless effort, and Kalith hissed in disgust. It proved to the dragon that Valleth wasn't needed and her disdain for Lebeth grew. Despite her dragon's aggression, Fajra couldn't help but feel a little bit relieved that there was only O'sho. Not enough that she felt that she cared, but a little bit better than she might have. She wanted O'sho. It wouldn't matter in the end of the flight, but it mattered a little right then. O'sho was hers. She let out a hiss of her own under her breath. Hers. She turned her attention back to the sky, not that she could really see at all. She felt ichor on her fingers and the wind on her skin. She flew with Kalith, no matter how relieved.

Green reminds me of everything we did,
It blinds me,
It rushes through my head,
It finds me close to you again.

Watch the sky, a jet plane so far out of my reach,
Is there someone up there looking down on me?
A boy sees a bird, so close but every time,
He'll never catch her but he can't stop trying.

Lebeth was of no concern to Kalith. He had done nothing to prove himself worthy. Her confused son won no sympathy from her, for he wasn't her son at that point, not in that moment, but he also won no attention. He was nothing. A blip on her radar, a possible threat but not enough of one to warrant action. She had to fly! Higher, higher, beyond their grasp! Certainly beyond Lebeth's grasp. Untouchable, she went higher, the ichor still steadily dripping off her claws. The green drops fell hundreds of feet to what lay below, falling into the ocean, then onto land, down onto the things that were below her, done onto the things that didn't matter. Her claws would soon be clean. Then she would make her choice. She would soon be free of them all. Except for one. Her wings grew tired. She strained a little higher, holding out for another moment. It wouldn't be Lebeth.

There was only one. Even she realized that when the moment came. Perhaps if there had been someone else with sense, who actually strove to win and succeed, they could have won. She had some loyalty to Daidoroth, but it rarely extended into her aggressive flights. However, when he proved himself worthy, he was hers. Forever hers. Her wings grew too tired for flight, muscles straining. Flipping herself onto her back, she dropped. Then she flared her wings, shot away from Lebeth, and came at Daidoroth from the side, still dancing. She collided with him, their wings tangled, and for a moment the dance stopped. Then a new dance began. Daidoroth was her victor, her winner, and she gladly twined with him. It had been her choice, for every ounce of force she was given, she could return, but he had worked hard. He deserved it.

As her dragon moved towards Daidoroth, Fajra moved towards O'sho. She did even truly realize that the copper had chosen the bronze. If she took the time to realize that, her resolve would falter. She had only room for one thought. O'sho. The lust was his. It took gall to think like that, to get one clear thought in edgewise, insensibility overwhelming her mind. She didn't know if it was so hard because Kalith was a Queen or simply because Kalith was Kalith, but she would never know and it didn't matter. O'sho was hers. Hers. The one thought she could think was a possessive, nasty thought, but that was enough. As Kalith twined with Daidoroth, she grabbed O'sho and all thoughts subsided. Her lips found his. Her fingers sought to glide over familiar flesh, pushing at his shirt. An old ritual between them, all dragonlust and memories.

Elsewhere in the Weyr, Sonia continued with her task. Lebeth lost; Aimeth commented smugly. The weyrling made another small noise in the back of her throat, the master of such noises and their lack of committal. She made stitches and thought a few thoughts, pretending be as bland as usual, even though they were in private company. The only thing she allowed herself to consider in the way of L'am was a small thing. She tried to imagine him feeling lust. It made a small smile come to her lips, briefly amusing her. She might have laughed, but such a vocal reaction had long ago been trained out of her. She couldn't picture it, L'am feeling inhuman desire. It made a great deal of sense that he had ended up with a dragon like Lebeth. She couldn't really picture the socially clueless bronze chasing. Aimeth snickered at the very thought of it.

Funny the way it is, if you think about it,
One kid walks ten miles to school, another's dropping out,
Funny the way it is, not right or wrong,
On a soldier's last breath, his baby's being born.