It's Not Over [Zane]

[Sakoru]

Goldflights were notorious for making everyone in the Weyr feel their strength. It was a general rule that when there was a goldflight, there would be people sleeping with other people all over the Weyr. Xiro'el was no more immune to the influence of Couineth's Flight than was anyone else, although he hesitated to approach anyone for a number of reasons. First off, he didn't know how many people had heard of or would recognize him. Secondly, he was trying very hard not to throw more people into conniptions over his presence.

And so, rather than actually acting on his rather amorous feelings, the cyanrider had settled in a corner of the dining hall, watching people pass by and idly noting their attributes or lack thereof. He rolled a cup of klah around and around on its bottom edge, and a note of curiosity passed through his head, asking how many cups of the stuff one could drink before one started to notice some severe side effects. This was cup number five, and the dull ache settling into the back of his skull was beginning to make him rethink his efforts to drink the Weyr's entire stock of the stuff.

Tigreath was out and about somewhere, probably splashing in the lake or taking a nap, but he wasn't getting anything that indicated she was bothering anyone so the cyanrider let his dragon be. A young woman passed by and smiled briefly at him, and he offered her an answering smile, but that was all. She passed on, and he let his eyes wander to other attractive specimens around the dining hall. For the most part, he seemed to be unnoticed. That was fine with him; he just wanted to look. Xiro'el knew perfectly well his own penchant for getting into trouble and, if he could possibly avoid it, he hoped to avoid pushing anyone's buttons at least for a couple of weeks.

A half-familiar voice invaded his mind suddenly, and it certainly wasn't Tigreath's. Tigreath, my love, could you tell Jedenath I heard him? There were disadvantages to not being able to speak mentally to dragons besides his own, although Xiro had to admit that the necessity had never really come up. Standing, the cyanrider abandoned his cup of klah on the table (probably a good thing) and headed for the doors to the Bowl. Judging by the sudden lull in Tigreath's connection, she was probably telling Jedenath what he'd said.

You're the stupid one, she told the viridian with disapproval, having gleaned the entirety of his message from Xiro'el's mind. You were all getting mad before and now you want Mine to go get Yours! Your brain's as green as your hide!

Xiro chose to ignore his dragon's unfortunate choice of comments, and instead crossed the Bowl at a lope, heading for the kneeling figure ahead. He reached her in a few moments' time, and then stopped in front of her, leaning his hands on his knees so that he could try to see into her face. "Raksha? Are you all right? Jedenath called me."

[Zane]

As often as Jedenath was ill-pleased by any remark coming from the cyan, this time he was hard-pressed to really argue with her. You have no right to comment, Tigreath. I am simply following my riders wishes. He didn’t feel like bothering to tell Tigreath that he’d just chased the junior gold. Why bother, so she could snark at him further? Forget about it. The viridian wished to be alone, and so, alone he was. He made the conscious decision to ignore anything more that the cyan chose to say, or not say.

Raksha was embarrassed by what she’d asked her dragon to do. She didn’t know what surprised her more, although. The fact that she’d asked Jedenath to call Xiro over, or the fact that the dragon had actually listened. Unhappy as he was, she could sense that he didn’t wish her to be unhappy and, what was more, alone. As common as it was to take a hold of whomever was about looking for a quick fix-to put it lightly-Jedenath would prefer His to have some semblance of familiarity, if that was what she desired. As controlling as the viridian was known for being, there were some things that were even beyond Jedenath to control.

The girl remained there, waiting nervously. She hated the feeling of being nervous. It was such an unnecessary, nagging, feeling. Of course, why shouldn’t she be nervous when everything had the potential of going wrong here? Oh well, no time to dwell on that now.

As the last of her thoughts died away, Xiro was leaning over, attempting to meet her gaze. His voice calmed her, and so she was finally able to exhale a breath she had been subconsciously holding. ”Sorry about all this…” She nearly smirked. It’s not funny, or amusing, she tried to tell herself, to no avail. Ah, yes, was she alright. That had been his question, hadn’t it? She was always alright, though… perhaps not at present. ”That was my doing, Jedenath-uh-calling you here.” Her voice was shaky, and she found the need to pause fairly frequently in-between her words.

What was she supposed to say? “Hey, let’s go and have some real fun, Xiro-okay? Sound good to you? Jolly well then, and why don’t we enjoy some fellis on the side while we’re at it; let’s really stir things up, shall we?” Unable to supress a smirk this time, she began to contemplate whether she truly did find this whole scenario amusing. ”Jedenath chased,” she heard herself explaining. Her mind was elsewhere.

As for meeting his gaze, she found herself unable to. When she did finally look up-not wanting to seem rude-all she could offer him was a sheepish grin. Faranth, she really didn’t want to be sitting here right now. She felt pathetic. It was just sex-right? No big deal. Nothing either one of them hadn’t seen and done before. Come on Raksha, stop being a girl. ”So… You up for it?” Wait, was that supposed to make sense? ”I mean… me?” And so her stupid grin returned. Wow girl, real smooth, huh? She hoped that the fact she was chuckling right now didn’t make her seem utterly delirious. She felt delirious!

At this point she was really hoping that Xiro could read minds. If he could, he’d know she didn’t want to walk at all. No, right now she really just wanted to be carried.

[Sakoru]

Tigreath scoffed, but she had better things to do than argue with the silly viridian. She was, after all, the danger dragon of Dalibor, and she had stunts to perform and adventures in which to partake. The cyan did not deign to respond to the viridian, and instead stopped talking to him, being much too busy planning an epic dive from the clouds to even contemplate battling His Grumpiness.

Xiro'el wasn't precisely sure what was going on, but he was sure he was about to find out. Although the viridianrider wasn't looking directly at him, there were all kinds of warning bells going off in his head. Danger, danger! This is going nowhere good! the bells said, and the cyanrider had to agree. Raksha's mouth was twitching in a way characteristic of a smirk, and Xiro started to wonder exactly what it was she was up to. Her voice was shaking, which wasn't at all normal, and the cyanrider lowered himself to his knees to look her in the face. Somewhere in the back of his mind, something told him that this was going to come back and bite him in the ass, but he figured he had better at least try and be there for Raksha, whatever this game was.

He waited, figuring she would say more, and she did. 'Jedenath chased' were probably the two most enlightening words she could have come up with, and the realization struck him that this was not just a call for emotional help. Nope, Raksha was in need of other services. A cold shiver ran down his spine as the cyanrider realized exactly what Raksha was asking for, but he ignored it, turning instead to the more pleasant feelings that Couineth's Flight had already instilled in him. Xiro stood, pulling Raksha to her feet as well, and then trailed a finger lightly down the side of her face, expression shifting from agreeable to careful and back again.

Well, what did he have to lose? This was her idea, not his, and he was already six feet under when it came to his reputation with her anyway. "Of course," he said simply, and smiled. Tigreath, he called, and to his utter surprise the cyan arrived instantly. She must have been waiting. Either way, the huge blue creature arrived in a flurry of wings and dust, surprisingly quiet. Xiro returned his attention to Raksha, letting his gaze trace her familiar form. She was just as gorgeous as she always had been, and he couldn't help the warm stirring of lust in his belly as he looked at her. You're an idiot, he told himself, but he didn't listen.

Instead, he gathered Raksha into his arms as Tigreath lowered her forequarters to the ground, and heaved her up onto the dragon's neck. Xiro'el was not built quite sturdy enough to carry her all the way up to his weyr, so he took the easy route instead.

They arrived quickly, and the cyanrider slid down from his bonded first, pulling Raksha after him and leading her away from the entrance of the weyr. Almost immediately his hands sought her hair and tangled in it. Shards. It had been so long since he'd had her, and yet his body acted as if it had been yesterday. Maybe Tigreath hadn't been involved in a Flight, but he felt as if she had, except for the feverish dizziness that usually accompanied it. Either way, once his hands made contact with the viridianrider's skin, there were no more doubts for Xiro'el. He pushed his misgivings far to the back of his mind and focused on the task -- and the woman -- at hand, unable to deny his own craving for closeness. As long as she wanted this -- and it seemed from her words that she did -- then the cyanrider was perfectly happy to oblige.