Never looking back. [Callistath's Flight!]

You would have had to been oblivious to have missed the glow to Callistath's hide, and T'lar was anything but. Still, he didn't expect anything to be happening on this winter day, so like any sane person, he was asleep. T'lar had never been much of a morning guy, and was always one for sleeping whenever he could. Sleep was important. Sleep was always important, and it kept T'lar at the top of his ambitious game.

Oh, T'larMiiiiiiiiiine!

There was, much to the distress of R'len's nerves, only a little over a Turn until the Interval ended and the Pass began. It was like some nasty Southern feline creeping up on him; it had one paw on his chest already and was pressing down, meaning to get all of its weight on him. He liked his job. He was good at his job. But when your job is, for the first time in the lives of every currently living person on Pern, actually to lead an entire wing to save the holders and crops below from death, it adds a whole other level to the burden. The wingleader had forced himself to do a lot of sleeping lately and to ease up on the perfectionism. He had actually been losing weight from stress.

And so R'len slept. His iron dragon, however, was awake and alert. Kaezeth was glad that His was sleeping, but he couldn't sleep himself. He was preoccupied. He didn't tend to wonder about too many things, but today, he wondered about that bloody sunrise sky and the glowing Queen who slept somewhere in her weyr. He remembered chasing her once before and losing. The repercussions involving Waroth, however, were only a dim memory which he ignored. He respected Waroth, but he did not care for her. He had given up on trying to apologize. The red let R'len near Nimara; that was all Kaezeth needed from her.

Then, suddenly, there was someone he needed more from. Callistath had burst from her weyr, gold hide shining like a beacon, crushing a herdbeast in one fell swoop. A shiver ran down Kaezeth's spine; he moved forward and clung to the edge of his weyr, hanging like a gargoyle. Just seeing her there, unfurling her wings with such grace, maw streaked with blood, lit a violent fire inside his chest. His eyes exploded red with lust. He raised his wings, ready, and then Callistath rose.

Kaezeth shoved off the weyrledge and rocketed after her. A primal scream came forth from him, raw and full of all the emotion he felt. It was a great deal of emotion. Instead of trying to make sense of it all, though, he simply accepted the overwhelming feeling and used it to spur himself onward. His aging wings were used to this. The vertical climb came second-nature. He almost didn't feel it at all.

R'len had shot up in bed. Shard it! His heart was pounding in his chest and his mind was swimming, but it only took a few moments for him to figure out what was going on. He saw a golden dragon in his vision, rather than seeing the wall of his bedroom like he should have. He blinked and returned to the ground world. Shards. It was Callistath. Kaezeth was chasing Callistath. Kaezeth had not bothered to ask permission to chase and had not waited around for encouragement, for their bond was strong and the rider had complete faith in the dragon, but R'len still worried. Immediately, he felt sick, remembering the last time this happened. Waroth had been so angry... but now, Waroth had no claim to Kaezeth. The worry now was what would happen if Kaezeth were to win. If, by some chance, the young gold picked the old brute, R'len would be the new junior weyrleader. He could do it. There was no doubt that he could, but... oh, shards, he shouldn't think about it right now. Stumbling in between flashes of his vision and Kaezeth's, the man made his way to Avalle's ground level weyr. There, he swayed on his feet, and became Kaezeth.

The iron roared again. A bronze, a purple, and two other irons followed with him, but his bugles were not for them. He had no desire to antagonize the other suitors; the only way to win was to push himself forward, and that was all he did. He did not bother Callistath with petty compliments; she had other things to focus on, and his trumpets spoke for him. He revered Callistath. She was not just some pretty young thing - she was a Queen, and that made all the difference.

So Kaezeth flew. He flew out of respect, out of duty, out of love and lust. He was a King to match a Queen. He had been born for this, and he would not give up.

The upward angle was taxing. Even after doing it so many times before, chasing Waroth and Callistath previously and countless queens at High Reaches, Kaezeth was feeling its effects. His muscles, eventually, did not feel like a well-oiled machine. Instead of the euphoric numbness he had experience before, he suddenly felt like a being of flesh again. He gritted his teeth; there was no time for complaining. He may have slipped off his initial high, but he was still in this to win it. Dropping out or showing weakness was akin to the highest account of disrespect towards the beautiful gold. Without a sound save for his hard breath, Kaezeth pushed after her.

By the time she dropped downward, Kaezeth was feeling the slightest bit of pain in his shoulder muscles from the awkward angle. Leveling out was a great relief, especially coupled with the leisurely pace that Callistath took. It gave his wings a chance to gain a second wind, and gave his eyes time to gaze upon her. The graceful movements of her body enraptured him. He himself was not nearly as beautiful; his body was meant to be strong and solid. He was built to last, and as Callistath sped up, Kaezeth followed without a thought.

Then they dropped. The great iron went tense like an arrow, the only way to keep straight at such an incline. If he faltered, his wings would catch air without him being ready and the fine bones would snap. He knew his limits, and this allowed him to push himself as far as he needed to go without injury. He had plenty of reason to push. Reason to Chase.

Kaezeth loved Dalibor. He loved that R'len had found someone to care about here, he loved the change of seasons. Rarely did he find himself missing High Reaches; he thought little of it. Everything was about Dalibor. And whether it had been from his devotion to the weyr or simply the instinctive desire, Kaezeth found himself wanting Callistath more than anything. She was a Queen of Dalibor. With her, he could prove his worth and protect his Weyr. He was a King, after all, and Kings were meant to protect.

R'len was loaded with the same feeling of pride. He stood up straighter now, his legs finding a more solid strength to stand. In Avalle, he saw the same chance as Kaezeth did in Callistath. Deeper than the lust, he felt he could work with her. With Fajra and O'sho and Rayna. Kalith, Daidoroth, and Couineth. Patriotism swelled in his chest. Then, all at once, he remembered that this was a game. His dragon eyes saw Callistath arc upward. A game of chance.

Kaezeth's body was not a lady's. Callistath was the only lady here and the only lady in the entire Weyr. Her grace was unmatched, but the iron set his face in a determined line, jaw locked. He could at least try. His wings snapped open just in time, held in place by trained muscles, and he pushed himself upward. The movement did not seem effortless - instead, it was forcibly powerful. He could not mimic Callistath, and even if he could, he would not have. It would be a crime to attempt to mirror such beauty when it was impossible. He meant to impress her, yes, but not with something he could not do. He was an embodiment of strength. He was an iron, his muscles as strong as the metal they were named for. The beauty could be left to Callistath; the power of protection could be left to him.

Or, he thought briefly, to any of the other males chasing. To any of the three foreign Kings, to the purple. But Kaezeth's mind and body ached with lust. He wanted Callistath so much. He wanted to be the one to be chosen by such a fine lady, and the thought of another male winning was something he couldn't afford to dwell on, so he didn't. Instead, he dwelled on Callistath. He pushed after her and allowed her to entrance him with her grace.