True Love Won't Desert You (Kia, Bre)

[4horseshowgirl4]

Here we stand
Worlds apart
Hearts broken in two
Sleepless nights
Losing ground
I'm reaching for you[/i]

If L'ven hadn't been the model, strictly-rule-abiding Candidate and Weyrling and had actually tasted more than a few drops of alcohol, he would have sworn that he was hungover. However, he had never before experienced anything like this. He was lying flat out on the stone floor, eyes groggy, head pounding. Rukbat's rays were hurting his eyes. Instinctively, he rose his hand to cover his face, and that small movement helped to rouse him. He blinked heavily a few times, taking several long, ponderous moments to figure out what the heck was going on. He looked up. Okay, if he had to be lying on a stone floor, at least he was in his weyr. Why was that? What had happened yesterday? Had there been a party? Had he accidentally drunk spiked klah? No, that wouldn't explain the soreness in his shoulders... would it? It took him several more minutes to discover that, no, the soreness was not his, it was Valleth's. Why was Valleth sor...? Oh, shard it. L'ven suddenly remembered. Shard it. Shard it. Shard it.

Feelin' that it's gone
Can change your mind
If we can't go on
To survive the tide
Love divides

L'ven cursed several more times before tearing his mind from his dragon's with an almighty effort. Suddenly, everything cleared. He'd been so drowned in Valleth's every thought and feeling yesterday that he was suffering aftereffects on Valleth's part. L'ven scrambled to his feet, ready to hurl a long string of cussing and lecturing and ranting and whatever else at the Bronze, but he found himself hesitating looking at the beast. Valleth was sprawled out on his dragon couch, as was his way, but he looked completely lifeless. What little of the Bronze's iris L'ven could see was a dull, listless gray. L'ven was torn between pity and hatred. It was clear that Valleth was not taking defeat easily-- and the fact that the muscles around his wings were throbbing something awful wasn't helping matters. Valleth had flown his heart out for Nikianeth, just to lose to some stupid Brown. Still, he had Flown. L'ven kicked him. "Get up, you," he snarled. L'ven's tone along was enough to make Valleth stir slightly. Never, never had the Weyrling felt such loathing for his dragon. "I said get up!" L'ven said dangerously, and Valleth didn't dare argue. The Bronze lumbered to his feet, trying not to wince in discomfort. "You've done it now," L'ven said angrily, hands shaking at his side. "You've ruined it!"

Someday love will find you
Break those chains that bind you
One night will remind you
How we touched and went our separate ways

While Valleth shifted and stretched tentatively, trying to work out some of the soreness in his muscles, L'ven stormed around his weyr, dressing rather haphazardly. Really, he was lucky he had ended up back at his own weyr. If Valleth had actually managed to win...! L'ven didn't even want to think about that. This was going to be hard enough. Valleth didn't dare actually form words with the state His was in at the moment, but he very gently, very subtly, gave L'ven's mind a questioning prod, so light a touch that the enraged young man wouldn't even notice the perpetrator in his state. Valleth's curiosity was satisfied a moment after. Lynx. He had to get to Lynx. He had to explain to her what had happened before she heard it from someone else. He had to promise her he hadn't wanted it to happen-- and how could he! He was afraid, terribly afraid of what she would think. But, he had to! Valleth had forced this horrible situation on him (as he thought that, another strange surge of hatred towards the Bronze rolled through him), and, like it or not, L'ven had to rectify it.

If he ever hurts you
True love won't desert you
You know I still love you
Though we touched and went our separate ways

He stepped out of his weyr, not bothering to arrive on dragonback. He needed this walk in the cool morning air to clear his mind, to give him time to think, time to arrange his words. His first few steps out of the safe confines of his home were quite hesitant. It was silly, but he didn't want anyone to see him, to make fun of him, as the Weyrling whose dragon had tried to Chase a Sub-Queen six months early. I should get her a gift, he thought suddenly, but... what? Flowers? There weren't many in the stone confines of the Weyr, and they'd wither and die within a few days. No, it had to be something better, something... lasting. L'ven looked down at his feet. What was more lasting than a rock? Maybe if he could find a heart-shaped one? After a few minutes of looking, it became quite apparent that the rocks didn't take strange shapes like that by themselves. Wait... they had a forge, didn't they? Maybe they'd have, say, a chisel or something? That was an idea. L'ven, glad for a few minutes delay, picked up a good-sized, smooth-faced rock and scurried to the underbellies of the Weyr.

Troubled times
Caught between confusion and pain
Distant eyes
Promises we made were in vain

A candlemark later, it became apparent that L'ven was no sculptor, but the heart he had chiseled into the rock was at least mostly recognizable as a heart, and he'd managed to get most of the chisel marks to mostly connect with each other in a mostly continuous line. He'd even managed to write to 'L's in the middle-- thank Faranth L was such a simple letter to write! He allowed himself a moment to be proud of his handiwork, but Rukbat was now high in the sky, and he'd wasted enough time. His heartbeat began to rush at the prospect of what was to come. He was still perfectly furious at Valleth, but his anxiety, and, strangely enough, eagerness to see Lynx were beginning to overcome his anger, and he'd isolated the Bronze from his mind. He'd deal with him later. So, clutching his clumsy gift in his hands, he slipped out of the forge and began to climb his way to Lynx's weyr.

If you must go, I wish you love
You'll never walk alone
Take care my love
Miss you love

L'ven's feelings were so tumultuous. It was like Valleth had unlocked a floodgate last night. If he could Chase Nikianeth, then surely it was okay for L'ven to try and move past the galling restrictions on Weyrling romance by now? But, wait, Lynx probably hated him for allowing Valleth to Chase, so that might not work. L'ven's mind was spinning back and forth, up and down, unable to follow one train of thought for more than a moment before another emotion barged in and took control. Love wasn't rational. Why wasn't it rational? How could L'ven know full well that he had committed such a huge sin and yet hope that he could actually try to build some sort of real relationship with Lynx? L'ven hated things that were irrational, yet he didn't hate his love for Lynx, which was irrational in itself. Gah, he was so confused, and angry, and happy and hopeful. None of it made the slightest lick of sense. Still, he knew what he had to do. He at least had a purpose.

Someday love will find you
Break those chains that bind you
One night will remind you
How we touched and went our separate ways

L'ven didn't know if what he was doing was as damage control to what Valleth had done, what K'ber would do upon discovering what Valleth had done, or just because he wanted to see Lynx and this was the perfect excuse. It was likely a combination of the three. Somehow, K'ber's involvement made this all way more complicated, and way more urgent. Everything L'ven did was balanced against what K'ber did, and L'ven hated that. Faranth, did L'ven hate that. He wished he could just be himself and let things progress naturally, if they were destined to progress, between him and Lynx, but, no. K'ber had to be there. L'ven was bad enough with girls-- he didn't need K'ber making it even worse! But, he did know that he couldn't let Lynx get stuck with K'ber for the rest of her days. K'ber was too cold, too unfeeling, too unlikable. He had to remind Lynx that he still loved her! Nikianeth's Flight changed nothing! L'ven knew she'd be hurt and unhappy if she chose K'ber!

If he ever hurts you
True love won't desert you
You know I still love you
Though we touched and went our separate ways

He was at Lynx's weyr. He took a tentative step towards her door, then another. His heart was really racing now, almost as if it were trying to beat out of his chest. His little carved rock was still clutched in one hand, that was now slick with sweat. He raised his other hand to knock, but chickened out for a moment, letting his hand fall back to his side. Then, suddenly, he heard the soft rustle of wings behind him. I'm sorry. I should probably explain, too. I may have lost Nikianeth but I sure as shards ain't losing Gneith, too! Valleth said, settling on Gneith's ledge, crooning a soft greeting. There was a steely determination in his voice, a strange new tone that L'ven had not heard before. He was still mad at the dragon, and probably would be for a long time, but... but at least they were on the same side now. He knocked. "Lynx?" he called softly. "It-- It's L'ven."

I still love you girl
I really love you girl
And if he ever hurts you
True love won't desert you
No... no... [/font][/i]

[Admin]

Tell yourself it's never gonna happen again,
You cry alone,
And then he swears he loves you,
Do you feel like a man.

Detritath let his rider sleep, for a time. The iron had known Nikianeth had flown. He knew Valleth had flown. Something in him clicked and produced the cold knowledge that it was almost time to make their move. Almost. He strongly disliked the other King that had hatched from his clutch. It wasn't something that had been from their birth. He had been neutral to Valleth at their hatching, as he was to most things. However, as his rider's interest in Gneith's had become apparent, he had allowed views on their competition to form, and he didn't like how Valleth behaved. The bronze chasing, far too young to begin, an orange he hardly properly knew didn't exactly make the iron's view of him any better. It only made his dislike of Valleth's practices all the more confirmed and sensible in his mind, and it was the perfect example that he had needed.

Perched upon his ledge, unsleeping, he waited, watching less than benevolently over the bowl. He had one purpose in his waiting. He, cold and stoic and stolid as he was, had only one interest. Entirely focused on his singular goal, he would not be swayed. His rider wanted Laura. He was quite fond of Gneith. Valleth wouldn't get away with his choice in actions. His bronze brother would suffer the consequences. Finally, all of the patient time spent on that ledge paid off. Valleth and L'ven appeared from their weur. He watched them, slowly rising, metallic gray hide flashing under ripples of light. He watched their motions. They did not go right to Gneith's weyr. Their loss. They might have had an opportunity if they had. He took the moments he had been granted while they thought to do other things to prepare his rider. They would be ready, together.

Mine, get up. The firm voice of the King roused K'ber from sleep easily. He raised his head, blinking his sleep-filled dark eyes and running a hand through his mussed hair. They didn't have lessons, not until later. Nor chores, and he had been planning on only swimming or flying that evening, with Nikianeth having flown. He didn't want to get involved in any of the drama from that. He didn't care for what gossip he might hear. Flights were a part of the Weyr, but there always would be whispers. He had thought to sleep. He hadn't known Detritath was awake. He tilted his head in silent question. Valleth attempted to fly Nikianeth. He was unsuccessful, but I think the point was made. The decisive hiss to the words was hard to detect, but K'ber knew the depth of their meaning and feeling, because the opinion was a mirror of his own.

"No." The word slipped from his mouth, but it wasn't a denial. It was a simple acknowledgment, a simple reaction, to a moment of conflict. For a second, he wanted to hang his head, grit his teeth and do nothing, but he wouldn't. Never. Not after that. L'ven and Valleth were going to die. They were going to take the bronze and his rider down. Maybe not a real death, but some sort of metaphorical death was going to be wrought. Lynx and Gneith might not be theirs, but they weren't L'ven's and Valleth's. Never. Not after that. He and Detritath would protect Lynx and Gneith. The two of them might be quiet, but they wouldn't go down without a fight. Not after that. A line had been crossed. It was wrong, what their rivals had done. To them, it was entirely wrong, and no explanation would satisfy them. Fierce loyalty set anger broiling.

Yet, a coldness and a firmness ruled them. No more was spoken between them. They had never needed words. They didn't need them then. Together, they simply knew how they were going to act. K'ber didn't move with any hurry. Like a soldier going through a ritual to prepare for battle, he slowly donned his riding gear, gloves and all, everything but his helmet. He made sure he had his belt knife. He didn't exactly know why. He didn't plan on actually trying to kill L'ven. Detritath, however, seemed to almost approve. He didn't want to kill the other pair, but if it was necessary. K'ber blinked at the iron. He'd never killed anyone before. Seemed a bit far. Only a little bit, though. However, ready, he fitted the iron with his straps and joined him on the ledge. They still had waiting to do, but they did it together, two sentries with eyes fixed on the forge.

For a moment, black Piteous woke up, having been sleeping to the side of K'ber's furs. He started to get up, curious about their silent watch. Then he sensed the silent anger. He hurriedly went back to sleep. He didn't want to get involved, and on the almost graduated weyrling pair watched. Every so often they would move a muscle, stretching and keeping warm, but they did not break away. It gave K'ber time to think, though Detritath stayed exactly where he was, simply running over the situation again and again in slow detail. Was that what rage felt like, in his chest? He'd never really felt quite like that before. He still felt calm, but it wasn't a shy calm anymore. It was Detritath's calm. It was the careful channeling of the knot in his chest. The odd anger. The anger he couldn't deal with sensibly any other way. In truth, it wasn't at all sensible.

They weren't waiting that long, in truth, though time felt like nothing to them. It was a wait. That was all they knew. They didn't know if it was short or long. Detritath could have said, since he tended to measure things like that at times, but he didn't truly care about time and so he quickly forgot. They saw Valleth and L'ven finally begin to move again, leaving the forge. They didn't hurry, but rose as one. They didn't need to hurry. They couldn't hurry, or the ice would be broken, and the icy rage, the suppressed fury, was better for them. Detritath would never go faster. He didn't see the reason to go faster. The ice was his, his muted passion and firm resolve. He moved exactly as fast as was needed, and his rider moved with him. He wouldn't allow for K'ber to make a rash move, but the time to act was upon them. They took to the air.

"Why don't you just leave her alone, L'ven, Valleth?" They said it together as they came to Gneith and Lynx's weyr. Their combined voices were like ice laced with a disturbing weight and passion. They were set. K'ber spoke with a vehemence, quiet voice coming out as strong. He wanted to say more. He wanted to scream bloody obscenities, and something in his voice suggesting that, but they were making a united front. It wasn't necessary. It wasn't about his opinions on L'ven and Vallet. Well, it was, but it was more about Lynx. She didn't need to do deal with the two of them. She didn't need to have their less than loyal hides as even her doormat. They didn't need to hurt her. He wouldn't let L'ven hurt Lynx. Though he offered less emotions to it, Detritath wouldn't let Valleth hurt Gneith. However, his true time would be her flight.

K'ber hung from Detritath's side, one foot jammed into a loop of the straps and one hand gripping another of the pieces, as the iron hovered in front of Gneith's weyr. If he fell, Detritath would catch him. Even if the iron didn't, he would only break a few bones, if he was more graceful than he usually was. It didn't matter. It would be worth it. Somehow, that position seemed to be the right thing. It felt noble, which he wasn't exactly feeling but which seemed to still fit. It meant he could lunge forward and attack L'ven at a moment's notice, which felt very good. He was unabashedly putting himself on the line. She'd always made it pretty clear that she had an interest in both of them, and they had both pursued. Now he was putting his foot down, in the sense that he was going to make sure L'ven ended up so far out of the running it was almost funny.

Neither of the pair was going to back down an inch. Shy K'ber was going to live up to his rock hard muscles and not blush and divert his eyes for once in his life. He had his chin stuck out, shaggy half-short, half-long hair hanging back from his hair. He looked pretty capable of taking L'ven down. Come on, muscular boy who used to be a dolphineer versus the failure when both of them were Kingriders? He was confident. Perhaps, if he'd been smiling, he might have looked charming, more attractive than ever before. However, his face was deadpan except for around his eyes, a flat expression with a set jaw to depict the control of his emotions. He still looked like a soldier, hardened and ready for battle, despite his youth. He was knight. He was doing what knights did, with his shining magical mount to aid and guide him.

However, some of it did get flung to the wind, something started to show through. After a moment's pause, dark eyes never leaving L'ven, K'ber did think up something to add. "You don't love her. You're just an idiot. I love her;" he said. His voice was still quiet, but his words still came out assured. He spoke the truth, an opinionated, angry truth, the statements towards L'ven almost becoming hiss, but the truth. The last sentence was spoken with a careless reverence. Detritath offered no more beyond continuing to beat his wings in a steady pace, keeping it so his rider wouldn't be shaken loose. However, there was a faint flicker of pride behind his ragged, firm confidence. All of the effort he had put into his rider and into Gneith were paying off. The goal was happiness, and it looked like the goal might be reachable one day in the future.

Well I'll tell you, my friend,
One day, this world's got to end,
As your lies crumble down,
A new life she has found.

[kia]

She was in her weyr, sitting at the window, her mind in thoughts. She needed no one to tell her what had happened. She did not need Gneith to tell her what she saw, to recount it step by step as it occurred. She had seen it with her own two eyes. She had been out with Gneith, somewhere on a cliff in Dalibor, more toward the east side where you could see the ocean better, when she had seen it. At first, she had tried not to believe it, trying to let the Flight effects affect her some as she held onto Gneith`s neck, hugging the Green until the Orange had chosen her mate. She opened her eyes, wide enough, to catch the full sight, the entire body, to know for a fact that it had been Valleth chasing after Nikianeth. Lynx`s heart felt as if it had dropped in her chest, down into her stomach, where it slowly dissolved away into nothing. She knew her heart was still there, still beating, for her to be breathing and alive. And, while she was unsure if she loved K`ber or L`ven the most, seeing the Bronze chase after the Orange felt like a blow to the chest. Weren`t dragons suppose to be extensions of their Riders? If that was the truth, what did that mean of L`ven.

She heard L`ven outside her door. She turned her head and blinked. But she did not move from her spot by the window. Gneith raised her head from where she laid, noticing the Bronze on her ledge. Neither moved or spoke. Lynx was not sure if she even wanted to get up. Gneith was unsure of what to say to the Bronze. Lynx turned her head, about to tell Gneith to tell Valleth and L`ven to go away when she heard another voice outside her weyr. She froze in her half-turn, listening to the voices outside. Gneith need no prompting to tell her who it was. She knew who it was by the simple sound of his voice. Even Gneith`s eyes, which had been a non-moving blue, now started to whirl in a mix of green and blue that looked very similar to a turquoise shade. She even shifted her body on her couch, as if she was going to make a move to get up and greet the two dragons outside her weyr. But, she could feel Lynx`s struggle in her mind to whether get up or not. But, K`ber was out there, defending her from L`ven. She knew L`ven had come to apologize. Why else would he come after such an incident.

Lynx stood up and walked to her door. She quickly opened it and stepped out, looking first at L`ven and then at K`ber. K`ber had pronounced his love for her right in front of L`ven while L`ven stared at K`ber. Lynx still felt hurt by the feeling of betrayal (which is what she could only described to herself) by L`ven. And having K`ber here, she was unsure whether this was a good thing or that it caused more awkwardness between the three of them. "Hello, K`ber, L`ven," she said, nodding her head at K`ber but giving L`ven a hurt look. She even moved closer to K`ber as she took another step forward. "What are doing this way?" she asked. She knew full well he was here to apologize, but she felt hurt enough to say something she did not mean. She had almost blurted out, asking him, if he was on his way to Nia and ask her to choose him next time. The feeling of jealousy welled up within her at the OrangeRider. But it had not been Nia`s fault. No, it had not.

Gneith moved toward the ledge of her weyr. She looked at the Iron and then at the Bronze, in the same respective movements that her Mine had done. She was also as displeased with Valleth as Lynx was with L`ven. Hello, Detritath. How are you today? And, hello to you too, Valleth. The Green looked at the Bronze more accusingly. She should have known better to flirt with a flirt himself. She had noticed that he tend to turn his head every time he saw a female dragon or a beautiful female dragon. And what side did she sit in, she was not sure, but it did not matter. He was chasing as female dragons, even from the time he was just a dragonet. Her eyes whirled faster. I should have known better! she suddenly said, her eyes turning a displeased color. She was upset and sad, and this was her way of frowning or crying. Did dragons cry? No, she figured. she had never seen one cry before. Would she be the first? No, she could not feel that watering movement that humans felt when they knew they were about to or they were crying. She fled her wings tightly to her body as she sat down, looking at both Kings, waiting for the Bronze to explain himself.

[4horseshowgirl4]

L'ven heard a rustle of wings behind him and turned quickly. Had Lynx not been in her weyr? Was that Gneith? However, even as he thought that, he knew he was wrong. Like most people could recognize the approach of their family and friends from their footsteps, so could Dragonriders discern which dragon was drawing near from the sound of their wings beating. This was no small, agile Green, that was for sure. L'ven's stomach dropped, sickened with dread, even before he recognized Detritath. Actually seeing the Iron, as big and formidable as Valleth, and K'ber, that son of a Bitran, did nothing for his nerves. He hadn't expected this. Was it really too much to ask for a minute alone with Lynx? Did the universe really hate him so much that he wasn't allowed a few candlemarks to get his act together before being confronted by his nemesis? Apparently so.

They spoke. L'ven hated to admit it (and he would never show it), but they were intimidating in their unity. Valleth flared his wings on the ledge, eyes whirling red. He was no cool cucumber like Detritath. He started to snarl out a reply, but L'ven silenced him before he could begin. {It's your damn fault!} he snarled at the Bronze. {He's going to turn everything you say back to you! So be polite or say nothing at all!} Valleth reluctantly turned from Detritath, following L'ven's line of action and ignoring the Ironpair completely, that hateful Ironpair, too scared or too weak to answer the call of a Queen, as he had dared to do. It was a strange, dysfunctional code of honor that governed the Bronze. Everything was for his Weyr. Everything was to better himself. Most strikingly, everything was to please the females. He truly saw no problem in what he did. He hadn't even won! He had barely been considered! All he had done was show Nikianeth how much she was valued by the Weyr, that he felt she deserved all the males could offer. What was the problem in that?

And then Gneith stepped out of her weyr, onto the ledge. She was angry with him, accusing him, and Valleth felt a flare of anger. His point of view was skewed, that was for sure, but he didn't appreciate being treated like a villain for what he had done. And how dare Gneith pretend like Chasing a Queen (maybe not quite a Queen, but a sub-Queen was still a clutching dragon-- Faranth forbid he follow his instincts to father dragonets!) was a crime, when she herself was toying with the two Kings' affections, refusing to choose one of them! L'ven was struggling to keep Valleth's muzzle clamped shut, but his bonded's own anger at him did nothing to quell his own. He wanted to snarl and snap at the Iron, the Green, the Iron's, and even His, but that would do nothing to make the situation better. However, Valleth was not an easily tempered dragon, and the moment of angst passed, replaced by a fierce determination to come out on top.

Lynx was there. She was angry, as she had a right to! L'ven's anxiety and nervousness was replaced by shame, and, with one look at her, his well-rehearsed words flew out of his head. "I-- I--," he stuttered, not quite able to meet his eye and preferring to look down at his boots. All of his feigned confidence he normally had about him was thrown out the window. Nikianeth's Flight had shaken him to the bone. It was an unnerving experience to lust desperately after someone one's never met before, and L'ven hadn't been ready for it. He now understood why Weyrlings weren't allowed to have sex, although the roles were reversed for him and Valleth. He had certainly felt alienated by the experience. He felt hatred for his lifemate, and Lynx hated him... but there was no escaping the terror of this moment in between for L'ven.

"I-- I'm sorry," he finally managed to choke out, hanging his head. "I just... I couldn't stop him. I tried, but you don't know what it's like... I had no control. I didn't want that to happen, please don't think for a moment that I did!" he said, the words coming easier now that he had started. He could meet her eyes now. "Please, please don't judge me by what Valleth did," he continued meekly. "I know he's very fond of Gneith, but he... he just isn't going to stick to one female, at least until one chooses him. Valleth and I... well, we're lifemates, but we're still separate beings. I'm not him. He's not me." L'ven paused, not really sure if he was doing a good job explaining it to Lynx. He knew she and Gneith were very similar in personality, which just made it harder. He'd forgotten about K'ber momentarily, forgotten that the Ironrider was there. "Please. I promise he won't ever do anything like that again-- I'll be ready for it next time!" he said more fiercely, more strongly. {Hear that? There's not a next time-- hope you got it all out of your system yesterday,} L'ven said, almost sadistically, to Valleth. Before the Bronze could reply, L'ven continued, {Or I will castrate you.}

Valleth had had a moment to cool down, and he was now back to his confident, cheerful, charming self. Gneith, beautiful,

[/color] he almost purred, pure affection in his voice. Gneith was the only female around, so she was the only female that mattered to him. That wasn't to say that he didn't place her the same as any old female. He did truly like her, if the bond wasn't quite as strong as L'ven's feelings for Lynx. If there would be a bond, it would be sealed in Flight-- or not sealed at all. I'm so, so sorry for Chasing Nikianeth-- I wouldn't have done it if I'd known you would have taken offense! I feel nothing for the Orange, but I couldn't let her take to the skies with so few suitors. She deserves to be honored as every female does![/color] he said enthusiastically, sidling closer to her. Can I beg your forgiveness?[/color][/font][/right]

[Admin]

So, I wish I was James Bond, just for the day,
Kissing all the girls, blow the bad guys away,
And I wish I was James Bond, just for the day,
Kissing all the girls, blow the bad guys away.

A flicker of triumph went through the iron and his rider, as one, when L'ven and Valleth had nothing to say to them. It was probably for the best, on the bronzerider and the bronze's part, that they hadn't spoken to K'ber and Detritath. They wouldn't have listened or believed a word of what their rivals had said. They weren't there to listen to sordid excuses from the two with which they were in competition. They were there to make sure that the unfit duo didn't weasel their way back into the good graces of Lynx after what they had done. Detritath made no reaction to Valleth's body language. K'ber simply watched L'ven with a fixed, forceful attention, expression unchanging beyond the broil of the singular focus that he had. His grip tightened around the strap in his hand as he strengthened his resolve a last time with help from Detritath.

Then there was Lynx. For a moment, K'ber considered how stupid he looked, hanging there like that, but no blush came. He just stared at her and fumbled a nod back to her in greeting. Any simplicity of the situation quickly fled. Did she love him? Was she going to forgive L'ven for what he had done? What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to act? Did his shirt look alright? It was his usual lack of sensible social skills, times a few hundred. Then there was the steady pulse of Detritath. It wouldn't calm all the racing off his heart, the situation high strung, but it calmed his thoughts. It was easy to remember exactly why he had come, with Lynx standing there, and he could act with confidence as a Kingrider, with his iron at his back. He drew in a deep breath, filling up his chest with air. He let it out slowly. The rhythm steadied and grounded him.

Detritath watched Gneith get up. It was a pleasure to watch her move. She had always been pretty. He didn't think much on it. He wasn't one to care all that much, but he enjoyed her company. His rider liked her rider, and they worked with a unity. It was hard to tell where the emotions of one ended and the feelings of the other began. He never felt as strongly, at least not in a way that he showed, but they both felt. The iron settled on the edge of the weyr's ledge as the green spoke. His attention was focused between Gneith and Valleth, letting his rider go to handle himself with the other two riders. He faintly wished that he could look at only the green, but he knew that he couldn't. That would leave him and her open to the tricks of the bronze. He had to keep an eye on his tricky brother. He wasn't one to go underestimating any individual. He knew that Valleth wasn't quite as stupid as he acted.

The bronze sidled closer to Gneith, and Detritath let out a carefully timed hiss of warning. It wasn't a whispering, slippery noise. It was deep, thrumming through his teeth and out into the air. He wouldn't tolerate lies and idiocy, least of all from Valleth. He took a step forward, warning the bronze to move off and not get a step closer. It wasn't in a dragon's nature to think to fight another outside of a mating flight all that often, though a broody Queen, some crazies, and most reds were exceptions, but the iron was weighing to be possibly necessary. He wasn't going to go starting it, but he could see somewhat intentionally provoking Valleth into one to get him to leave Gneith alone. It would be a necessary break of etiquette and practice. Some scars would be acceptable.

I am fine, Gneith; he told the green, finally answering her. His mouth and face relaxed so that his expression became stoutly placid again as he addressed her, all aggression towards Valleth fading as he turned towards her. His tone was level, but some small inflection suggested that he would have been better than fine if it hadn't been for the bronze. I wouldn't listen to him; he advised her softly. No insults, nothing more. For the time being, he trusted her memory and her sense, to see that Valleth wasn't any good given his record. He only provided a few more words, in a calm, level voice. It isn't about honor. He doesn't understand such things. He will never stop having other interests, even if his rider keeps him away. He gave Valleth not a glance as he spoke. He meant only a little offense to the bronze. It was about Gneith, and she wasn't happy. He wished he could console her, but his words, his advice, were his offering, his bit of hope to be given.

When Detritath alight, K'ber let go. He felt his feet touch stone and took a few steps towards Lynx and L'ven. The words the bronzerider said made his stomach twist. He paused, for a moment. Doubts flashed through his eyes, but he had been learning how to crush them. They never had doubts. He shifted forward, into L'ven's line of sight. He didn't set himself in front of Lynx. She could take care of herself. He knew he didn't have a right to her, and he was just scared enough, somewhere inside of him, not to think to try. He simply placed himself where he could easily tackle the bronzerider should he make another move and in case Detritath and Valleth got in a fight. He wasn't tall, but he was strong, and he moved and stood as such. He had always been strong, in truth, and months of weyrlinghood had erased enough shyness to let it show.

"You know how to keep him from flying? You're sure you can keep him down next time? Entirely sure? And the time after that? And the time after that? Dalibor isn't big, but there are plenty of greens and pinks about;" he said. The words weren't typical for him, and they came out as ice. Normally, he would have shut up, but he wasn't doing that anymore, for Lynx. "Valleth isn't stupid. You aren't a genius. You aren't always going to win between the two of you;" he continued. It was a cold logic, perhaps biased but honest enough. He spoke toward L'ven, but he spoke to make Lynx see, to make sure she heard what he said, to make sure she didn't make a mistake with the bronzerider. He wanted to protect her, so he kept no peace and spoke out. His dark eyes fixed on L'ven, daring him to come out with some evidence to argue him.

Hello Mr. Bond, I've been expecting you,
Martini in your hand, and that eyebrow that you move,
Don't take this the wrong way, I know it might sound odd,
I'm the next double 0, I'm the right man for the job.

[kia]

Lynx`s eyes had become red, red with the mix of anger and sadness that was mixed inside. She looked at them both, the two men (they were men in her eyes because boys fawned but they treated her with respect, or so she had previously thought) that she cared for and loved. She could never say the L-word to either of them because it was not fair to tease them that way. She was smart enough about that. Her fists were clenched as she listened to them both. "I know you and Valleth are not the same. Gneith and I, we are separate entities. Yet, I put trust in Gneith and her wings. I trust Gneith to... L`ven, I would have understood if it was a Gold or Copper. They are true Queens of the Weyr and are needed to keep this Weyr running. But a sub-Queen, even with the potential to lay eggs, is the need that much greater?" She seemed to shudder as the first tear fell down her face. She took no notice of it nor made any movement to wipe it away. Her eyes screamed angered, but the paleness of her face told them how upset she was. She had been so upset she had not even eaten since. She was not hungry. She almost preferred no company. But, they needed to settle this now. And even though K`ber had done nothing wrong, he rode a King dragon as well. Did what he say about Valleth could he do with Detritath? Gold and Coppers were understanding, but others? Lynx thought they would wait to see what would happen in Gneith Flight before acting.

Gneith looked at Detritath as the Iron spoke. Her eyes were still whirling really fast. But, he look went back to Valleth accusingly. But she was an Orange! If you had not chased, she still would have had four other suitors! A lack of suitors was not a problem! she said, almost in a whimpering tone. I would have understood a Gold or Copper. Without Bronze and Iron dragons, Coppers and Golds could not produce the next generation of dragons. If Callistath had Risen, I would have not minded. I would have cheered you both on. But, an Orange... she seemed to moved back some, more into the shadows of her weyr where she could not be seen so clearly as she tried to hide her pain and sadness. I have seen you look at the other females other than Callistath. Whenever I am not around, you lavish them with the same praises you give me... K`ber was right. There were many Greens and Pinks in the Weyr. His interest would never change. It was like asking a dragon to shed their wings when they knew they were meant to fly. Her eyes turned into a listless gray now, becoming quite depressed of the situation.

[4horseshowgirl4]

L'ven had never wanted to punch someone so badly. He had never quite realized what a heartless, cold young man K'ber was. How could Lynx even entertain the thought of choosing K'ber? "This isn't about you, K'ber!" L'ven snapped, the incautious words slipping out before he could reign them in. His hotter head was showing, and his patience with the Ironweyrling had long since run thin. "And my dragon's not some canine that has to be 'kept down!'" he continued furiously. This whole thing had not been a happy situation for him, and all of his pent-up teenaged angst was difficult to control. K'ber was getting the better of him, getting under his skin, and it was showing, badly. Everything had been bottling up since last night, and K'ber was just the trigger.

Valleth was not a temperamental dragon, like L'ven was not a temperamental person, but he was no ice king, either. No Green or Pink could lure me away from Gneith!

[/color][/i] he roared. Rarely did he ever voice anything to any people other than L'ven, but not this time. He meant for Detritath and Detritath's to hear him, Gneith and Gneith's, too. And it is not about which one of us wins,[/color] he snarled, stretching out his neck and baring his teeth at Detritath. I made a mistake, but I will not do so again![/color] The Bronze's eyes were whirling a tempestuous red as he crouched slightly, clearly ready to attack the Iron.

However, the fight drained out of both of them when Lynx burst into tears. L'ven could only blink at her several times, anger turning into bewilderment. Oh, shard it. Now look what he'd done! He'd made her cry! Oh, no, no, no, no... how did he fix this? He swallowed nervously. He didn't know what to do. He was no good with girls at the best of times. How was he supposed to handle this? "N-- No, don't...!" he stammered weakly, reaching out awkwardly to pat her arm or something before deciding that probably wasn't the best move. Okay, think this through. Why was she crying? ... On to a less obvious question. What could he do to fix it? Not much, it was over now, and he'd apologized. Um, um...!

It was Valleth who got his wits back about him first. He shifted closer to Gneith, blatantly ignoring Detritath's warning. His body language had relaxed, muscles untensed, wings held loosely against his sides, head held low. He moved his tail so its tip trailed softly over Gneith's. No, never,[/color] he said in soft rebuttal to her own statements, quiet but firm. It's true. I look. I talk. I flirt. I call them pretty, even. But they are nothing compared to you! What I say to you, the others never hear! Especially not Nikianeth![/color] One front toe trailed absently across the smooth stone of her ledge, and he turned to look away for her for a moment. Actually, I, uh...[/color] he said hesitatingly, Part of me Chased so, erm, I would know what I was doing when you Rose,[/color] he said, meeting her eye sheepishly. If he was acting or pretending, he was doing a very good job of it.

It took L'ven a few moments longer to get his clumsy tongue around any words. "L-- Lynx?", he stuttered, still unsure of whether he should keep his distance or give her a little reassuring hug or something. "I really, really like you! I don't like Arnamia! I don't even know her! Do you think I wanted that to happen! We lost, though! Nothing happened!" he said quickly, rambling. His flub of Armania's name was unintentional (he was speaking too fast), but he didn't correct himself. It was probably a fortunate accident. "Please believe me," he said quietly, imploringly. L'ven wasn't sure what he could say past that. The facts and logic weren't on his side of the argument this time. He couldn't fight as he usually did. This was different. It was strange, foreign, but it was the hand he'd been dealt, and so he would have to do the best he could with the cards he had.[/right][/font]

[Admin]

Try to smile,
Tonight I think you slow,
Please don't cry,
Tonight I think you slow.

It hurt him to watch her cry. Suddenly, a lack of confidence returned. K'ber looked down at the stone under his feet. What was he doing? What was he supposed to do to help her? He wasn't sure. He couldn't be sure, and that left a sinking feeling in his gut. He felt out of place, trying to argue against L'ven. He didn't want to argue. It didn't come natural for him. For Lynx, he was trying. Detritath could argue, or debate, more in his case, debate with force, but it wasn't him. Yet, then, Valleth was in his head, yelling, and he looked up sharply. His stance stiffened, becoming more firm. He wouldn't leave. He knew the argue might slip through his fingers, but he wouldn't leave. Protect her. She was beautiful, even as she tried. L'ven was ugly, with Valleth raging in the background. What was he? It didn't matter. An ironrider stood on with strength.

Detritath let a stony silence fall on his part as he listened to Gneith and Valleth. He refrained from reacting. He refrained from attacking. It wasn't about keeping it bottled up. He didn't have to bottle it up, because the control came naturally to him. Even as emotions bubbled up in him, some of them strong convictions of his own and many of them the tumultuous feelings of his rider, he kept a firm hold of himself. He tensed at the aggressive reaction of the bronze, but he didn't initiate an attack. He even kept his ground as the spawn dared to moved closer. He even let him touch her. However, his posture didn't relax. He listened carefully, pulling each word into his mind and memory. The battlefield lay before him, the war that they played. Though the skirmish they were doing was the biggest yet, it was not the end. He fought to win, not to make petty errors.

In the end, he could only stand so much. He shifted forward, quicker on ground than one would expect. He was not the most nimble individual, but he could manage well on stone as he did in the air, thanks for many a candlemark in the shallows of the lake. He made no physical contact, but he placed his body in the space between Valleth and Gneith, so the bronze could no longer see her properly or reach her with more than his tail. He rippled with muscle. With his deep hide, he didn't have an intimidation factor. He had a factor that made it perfectly clear that he could take the other King down with him if nothing else. His wings were left loose on his back, barely pluming away from his body to make sure that ever ounce of his bulky form was visible. He was ready, muscles taunt and prepared. He was ready for it all, and definitely Valleth.

Dragons fly. We will chase at times. Both of us. It's about choosing which is worth it. One would think you might already be prepared for such an event, but perhaps I overestimate you as a possible adversary. There was an actual bite to his tone, subtle but defiant, as he spoke to the bronze. He meant to taunt and draw out more of the rage. A cool, suave Valleth was no good to him in trying to win the green that they sought. Gneith is not Nikianeth, in form, function, color, skill, or beauty. She is better, in my opinion. It was a compliment, on his part. If he had simply said that she was better, that would have been a fact. He was saying what he thought of her, some tenderness coming into his voice. This will give you no advantage when she flies. She will choose; he said, reasonableness returning. Then he respectfully bowed his head to Gneith.

Keeping his eyes from the actions of their dragons, K'ber stepped forward himself, moving more towards Lynx and placing himself more into the sight of both at L'ven's pleading words. He couldn't take it either. "Why should she believe you?" The question was asked with a cold rationality. "You offered all your reasons, but what now? What more than just that please?" He had to ask. He had to say them, all the questions he could think of to prove the bronzerider wrong. "She deserves better than having to choose to believe words and excuses;" he said, voice becoming quiet and soft, as if he was losing his nerve. However, his stance remained steady and firm, controlled by the breath that was strong in his body. His dark eyes would not break away for several moments. Then he cut the stare in a decisive action, to look towards Lynx. She was a far more pleasant sight, even if the signs of her crying made him feel torn and awkward inside.

"Please don't cry;" he asked of her quietly. He tried to catch her eye, but then his gaze slipped to the floor. When it came to actually dealing with her, he wasn't so confident. L'ven had asked the same of her, sort of, but he said it softer, sweeter, more like a kicked pup of a canine, in the hopes that she wouldn't cry again if he said it like that, as he felt. Part of him knew it was good that she was so upset but L'ven, but it did him no good in the end if she couldn't think to look at him instead, now did it? Anyway, he wasn't for fighting dirty. He really, really wanted her to be happy, though. Sure, preferably with him, and, if he worked up the nerve, he was considering flat-out punching L'ven because he was confident that he could at least take the other rider in a fight, but hey! He looked up at Lynx, glanced at L'ven, and then he tried to smile a bit for her.

Always in my mind, I think of you
I put you in my music,
Slowly in the sound, I see your eyes,
I see your face forever.