Fight and Flight

OOC PART: For this flight, it was agreed to allow those not yet written but in your head bronzers compete! Just add your person in here, and if you like them get that sheet done! And if they win you'll be bothered by Melissa until that sheet is written. ;D This flight is totally open, the winner will be chosen by a role of the dice, so jump in! And do bring on the flight moths... Jah'vi has certain expectations.



[[BLOOD ONLY!]] Belisse shrieked at her young gold, rounding the corner to the flight weyrs. It gave a beautiful view of Jeneveth, neck arched and the sun glinting off her hide. It would have made a gorgeous portrait if not for the blood stains on her muzzle. "Nothing but blood Jeneveth!" she screamed, fighting the gold for every inch.

Jeneveth snarled but did as commanded, draining the herdbeast and then tossing it aside with contempt. She sprang on a second terrified beast so quickly that Belisse missed it when she blinked. The struggle was easier this time... Belisse liked the taste of the hot blood in her throat. No, that wasn't right, Jeneveth liked the hot blood, not her...

The line between rider and dragon was getting blurrier now, and Belisse rocked and fell against the wall. Suddenly the anger of the past few days made sense, and she had an outlet. [[Yes,]] she told Jeneveth, her vision fuzzy as she saw through two sets of eyes. [[Blood more, we'll leave them ALL behind!]]

Jeneveth shrieked her agreement, this time aiming her bloodless kill at a few of the bronzes who had been brave (or stupid) enough to get too close. Then she was onto her third kill, and they didn't even have to argue about the blooding.

Sebienth, as one of the older bronzes, had began blooding quietly before Jeneveth had even woken up. He knew when a gold was going to rise... he was no hatchling like these other bronzes. He also had the presence of mind to stay back. In fact, he'd found himself a nice ledge from which to watch as Jeneveth destroyed the pens.

{{This is always the best part,}} another dragon spoke to him, startling him. He hadn't even heard Nolinth land near him. The other bronze, much smaller and sleeker, was licking the last bit of blood off his lips. {{Watching... look at that mess she is making. Gorgeous!}}

Sebienth snorted and went back to his watching. He wasn't going to allow Nolinth to distract him. Let the chatty bronze bother someone else.

On the ground L'rue was trying to gently steer young Belisse towards the flight weyr, but she was fighting tooth and nail. "Let go!" she snarled, swiping at him as if she had claws like her dragon. He leaned back and barely missed getting his eyes gouged. Jah'vi wasn't so lucky... the lanky bronzerider was in the wrong place at the wrong time and got a knee in the groin.

"You'll get over it!" L'rue barked, poking Jah'vi sharply with his boot when the man fell theatrically to the floor. "We need someone to get her inside that she isn't going to kill." Sebienth had bugeled from his perch... Jeneveth would be done blooding soon, and there'd be less of a chance of getting her inside once that happened. Already he was having a hard time holding himself together, and Belisse was far too innocent to be attractive to him normally.

Sh’nar had done what he had said he was going to do when he left Belisse earlier. In fact he was playing with his little daughter when Cymrioth got the sudden urge to feed. Sh’nar, luckily, had participated in flights before. He had already wondered enough at Cymrioth’s behavior from earlier that morning mixed with Belisse’s strange mood to come to the conclusion that it would not be long before the young Gold rose to mate.

The Bronzerider dropped his daughter back off at the Creche. Meanwhile Cymrioth blooded one beast. One was plenty for him. He was an average sized Bronze, and didn’t want to be weighted down with extra blood. He had enough to sustain him and he had only eaten two days ago, so he was plenty energized for this flight. As soon as Jeneveth came into view, he cleared out of the Feeding Pens. Never come between a Queen and her kills pre-flight. The Bronze watched, the glorious Gold as she blooded. He was thrilled already, sending shivers down his rider’s back.

Is she not the most beautiful? She is, the most beautiful. Sh’nar responded to the dragon who was already well past excited and spreading that excitement to his rider. Sh’nar walked into the hallway trying to get to the Flight rooms and saw the hold up. He didn’t need to ask what was keeping them. He saw her and knew she was being difficult. Sh’nar knew her the best, so perhaps she would allow him to steer her where she would be safe to continue.

“Belisse, we need to get into a flight room. Okay?” He said as he came close enough to gently steer her shoulders with his hands, which he tried to keep as calm and firm as possible. He wasn’t trying to be sexual with her in any way at that moment but he couldn’t help that his temperature had risen with his desire for her. He knew better than to hold on to her with anything more than a light touch and as soon as she went where they needed her to be, he would back off.

Look at her. Marvelous creature, blood on her maw, her hide catching the sun just right. Mentally groaning, Sh’nar asked Cymrioth to stop commentating. My blood burns for her and you want me to be silent. I cannot help broadcasting to you while you are in my mind.
You are killing me…Sh’nar said, as his mind began to meld even more with Cymrioth’s.

N'kyr should have known today would be the day the young gold would rise. Ramirath had been almost waspish, snapping at him for no reason, which was far from normal. The bronze had all but told his rider he was busy when N'kyr asked him to talk to his clutchmate about heading to the Dining Cavern. Since when did he not want to talk to the other bronze?

N'kyr had put it down to his dragon's irritation at a blue in their wing that had singed his tail during drills the day before. (Then again, such a grudge was also something not normally part of Ramirath's character. Neither was the memory of the occurrence, which must have been fueled by N'kyr's own annoyance with their wingmates.)

So really, he should have known something was off-- before Ramirath dove for the feeding pens.

By that point, there was no stopping him, even if N'kyr had wanted to.

Making his way down to the flight weyrs with the other bronzeriders, he stumbled a bit as Ramirath's focus shifted from dead herdbeast to Jeneveth, a fresh wave of dragonlust coming through their bond. But he wasn't going to let himself be shown up by the others, even if they had more experience both in general and with flights. He could control himself until he made it to where Belisse was-- he just needed to concentrate on walking.

((And I'll have to add the other tomorrow, when it's not 1 AM!))

"Sh'nar," Belisse breathed, able to focus on him for a moment. Her wonderful, caring Sh'nar. She let him steer her inside, not seeing anything but Jeneveth's kills and Sh'nar's face. All the emotions... so confusing. She wasn't sure if she wanted to punch him or throw him on he bed and ravage him.

Almost on cue, Jeneveth tossed her fourth buck to the side. She looked around the pen, admiring each of the males who thought they could catch her. She gave them a show, arching her neck just so that the sun glinted off her hide. She liked the blood from her muzzle, sizing up the competitors.

Weak weyrlings, the whole lot, Belisse thought with disdain as Jeneveth leapt into the air without a sound. Several powerful beats of her wings and she had shot past even the quickest of the bronzes. Just let them try.

Sebienth was off his ledge in a flash, leaving Nolinth behind as was his plan. He stayed clear of the other bronzes, not yet throwing his strength into things. She was young, this one, and would tire quickly. Then he would make his move.

Nolinth was just moments behind Sebienth, but his strategy was different. As such a slim, long dragon he had speed that many of the other, larger males didn't. He was counting on catching up with Jeneveth and then impressing her with his fancy flying. He zoomed past Sebienth with a draconic snort. {{Too slow!}} he taunted.

Emboldened by his dragons quick thinking and fast flying, Jah'vi moved closer to Belisse. His heart was pounding, and all the blood had rushed from his head. Of course he'd noticed the lovely girl before, but now he desired her as much as his dragon did her's. He stepped forward, sliding his from Belisse's shoulder to her wrist, letting her gown fall from that arm.

Fortunately for his pretty face, Jah'vi was quick on his feet and missed the swipe aimed at him. "Stay away," she growled, fingers still tightly wound in Sh'nar's top. She was losing her ability to tell rider from rider quickly, but holding Sh'nar at least reminded her of him.

He was so relieved when she recognized that he was there to help her and allowed him to steer her into the flight room. However doing so had put a big target on his back for the other Bronzeriders. He was a threat now. When they were safely in the Flight room, he wanted so badly to bend and place his lips on hers, he wanted to take her to the bed and have his way with her but she would try to kill him for any of it. In fact even his hands had moved from her shoulders. He would have taken a step back but her hands kept him there, as she toyed with his shirt.

Cymrioth’s eyes whirled with lust as he watched the young Gold’s display of beauty and grace. She was ready, he was ready, the rest of them were just going to have to try and keep up. She is everything. The Bronze said more to himself than to his rider who was already just as lost in his own lust as the dragon was. It had become hard to tell which of their thoughts and feelings were their own. It was almost like being two people, with minds learning to think alike. Sh’nar and Cymrioth had done this before however it had never before been this easy.

Cymrioth’s strong legs vaulted him into the air and like the other Bronzes he was slower than the mighty Queen. She was starting at an alarmingly fast pace, which he knew she would be unable to keep up for long. He didn’t want to be too far back among the Bronzes, he wanted to remain within easy sight distance for her. If she saw him, she would think of him and that was all the edge he needed at the beginning. Nolinth could rush ahead and try his fancy flying but it would not win him Jeneveth. Maybe the others did not understand yet but she belonged with him. The sooner they realized that the better.

Sh’nar nearly lost his cool when Jah’vi’s hand was on Belisse’s shoulder and moved down her arm. What a sleaze! He glared at Jah’vi resisting the urge to punch him with everything he had. He was lucky that Belisse had hold of his shirt then because it brought his attention and focus back to her. He could see through the haze of lust that she was confused. He wanted to make it easier for her but there was nothing he could do except what he already was. He was there for her and allowing her to use him as comfort even if it did make Cymrioth a target to the other Bronzes.

K'thane, like L'rue and Jah'vi, was no spring wherry when it came to flights. It had been turns since Remegath had last caught Galadrieth, but there had been plenty of greens since. Of course, it might have been subconscious negativity on the part of both riders that kept his bronze from winning, but who was to say? The terrible fire that had claimed most of the weyrlings in the last clutch Remegath sired had weighed heavily on both his and Karene's mind for a long time, and it was always possible the goldrider associated him and Remegath with the event.

But Jeneveth was a new queen. And since she wasn't the senior, and K'thane didn't necessarily have a special interest in Belisse, there was no reason for the bronze pair not to simply enjoy the chase, and the catch if it worked out.

Remegath, for his part, hadn't needed to eat, as he'd hunted the night before. So he'd found himself a spot on the ground near the pens, out of the way and with plenty of space to launch when the time came. He ignored the young ones trying to show off, keeping his gaze on Jeneveth as she ate and then posed. Such a lovely color her hide was, glistening and glowing-- of course all of the other males would want her for themselves. But he would have her, not them.

The bronze, of course, knew to be patient and wait for the younger ones to tire themselves out or take eachother out of the competition, and then make his move and prove he was the best choice for the young queen. When Jenevath threw herself into the air, he took his time launching after her, strongly beating his wings to take him up high, above most of the others who sped on towards her. It wouldn't be over this early-- she was a queen, and thus much wilier than most of the greens who sometimes wanted to be caught quickly. She would want to fly, to enjoy the air, before she chose a mate. And by that time, he'd make sure he was in place for that choice to be him.

(Sorry for the late jump in! Been busy!)

S'jiro had been reading on a step, his nose buried into the centerfold crevice of a book that was new to him, but one that he had taken his time in getting through; he'd found it too enlightening to want to rush. So deep in thought, he didn't notice when Zemarith's male urges began pushing to the forefront of his mind. It was an amusing instinctive reaction that when he felt the push of another's thoughts, he pushed back with his own, trying not to lose his own train of thought. ...who would give a law to lovers? Love unto itself is a higher law...

The reading in his head was brought to an abrupt halt as he felt himself growing a little warmer, his body responsive to the desires of his Bronze yet unbeknownst to him. Why on earth was he having such a reaction over a silly book? S'jiro's pulse began to rise, his loins aching with amourous desires.. so to try and quench the flames, he slammed the book closed on that spot, determined that he would have to find another to read if he couldn't read this one without getting all bothered.

Perhaps he had not spent enough time in female company lately?

Of course, none of that did anything for the ever intensifying feeling lovingly shared by his better Bronzer half; and it wasn't until that very moment that he noticed it. As if he could have seen any of it from where he sat in his secluded stair well, S'jiro looked skyward, his focus mentally honing in on his dragon. Zem! The mental cue was enough for the Bronze to relay images without words, that were enough for his rider to understand what he'd been missing.

S'jiro was on his feet in an instant, racing to where he could see the open sky where gleaming metalic dragons flashed brightly in the sun. He could feel the hot, fresh blood of Zemarith's own blooded herdbeast wet in his throat. Good. Zemarith hadn't tried to gorge himself. His hunger wasn't overwhelming since he'd eaten four days prior...but the dragon was ready for more blood.

Blood and sex. What an odd, masochistic thing a mating flight was, S'jiro thought. Zem, don't overdo it or you won't be able to catch her!

S'jiro felt the mental snort in his mind that came as Zemarith's reply.

Wait. What was he saying? S'jiro began coming more to his OWN senses again, and in a mental growl back, clutched his head between both hands. The words were both mental and aloud, "But Sh'nar likes Belisse!" He couldn't! No, he wouldn't intervene when his best friend had such high hopes and had been working so hard to impress her. Sh'nar wanted to win this flight more than anything. Sh'nar Loved her! What kind of a friend would he be if he kept the two of them from being together?

Groaning mentally, his dragon seemed to fight back with a harder mental push. S'jiro was more likely to listen to his dragon than Sh'nar, no matter what kind of friends they were; and somehow, S'jiro wondered now how it would all turn out? The Bronzerider didn't feel as though he had the kind of strength it took to compete against Sh'nar or any of the other Bronzes. He and Zemarith were still young and inexperienced in comparison to some of the dragons who looked to be taking the skies after the Gold.

The Gold? Completely distracted by the glowing gold beauty before them, S'jiro's thoughts and emotions were beginning to be won over. Zemarith would be his strength and his splendor; the uniquely roufous-bronze dragon took off from the ground, turning into a streak of fiery metallic hues under the sun's rays. He was the most beautiful thing S'jiro had ever laid eyes on, next to the glittering Golden Jeneveth. The two of them would be a marvelous pair -entwined red and gold like a comet dancing through the sky.


Zemarith's desire creeping over him, gaining ground inch by inch, the Bronzerider couldn't help but make excuses now, Sh'nar has only ever pushed me around to get his way. What kind of friend is so inconsiderate that he would think only he had the right to fly a Queen? Aren't I just as deserving? Aren't I more high born than he? What makes him think he's more worthy? S'jiro was moving with haste toward the flight weyr to join the rest of them, trying to control his expression and the intensity of Zemarith's mind over him; in the end though, he felt as though he needed to feel what Zemarith was feeling. He needed to fulfill that ultimate desire -and prove to Sh'nar that he wasn't a friend who would simply let himself be pushed and pulled around anymore.

At least not in flights. That was Zemarith talking. So, as far as S'jiro was concerned, this flight was between he and Sh'nar! S'jiro wasn't going to just sit back and let him have his way anymore! If Sh'nar loved Belisse that much, then he would have to beat Zemarith fair and square.

And if S'jiro happened to actually win the flight? How would he and Sh'nar's relationship be after the fact? Zemarith wouldn't let him struggle against fate though. The Bronze offered him promises of reassurance and the beautiful completion of an impassioned coupling. Together, their desire soared, just as Zemarith did in his determined chase after Jeneveth.

Jah'vi smirked at his Wingsecond and moved further back from the goldrider, whose fingers were still firmly clenched in the tunic of her lover. Just because Belisse had picked out her mate didn't mean her dragon would follow suit with Sh'nar's bronze. He'd seen many a flight's outcome be surprising. His Nolinth had caught several weyrmated greens before, after all.

As soon as he could tell Belisse was not going to tip over Sh'nar stepped back, surprised at the lust rushing through him. It had been quite a while since Sebienth had participated in a gold flight and he'd nearly forgotten how strong the projections got. Normally Belisse would be far too young for him to even consider, but now he could only focus on her curves, the way her fingers clenched against Sh'nar's shirt...

He would have her clinging to him like that before the day ended.

The goldrider herself had loosened her grip on Sh'nar somewhat, her eyes glazed and face turned towards the ceiling. She was barely conscious of the bronzeriders crowding around her. Jeneveth had plenty of energy and wanted to to wear the bronzes out before she made her choice, but Belisse had already made her's. Like the bronzeriders she was quickly losing control, and it was becoming difficult to not just drag her own chosen mate to the bed and begin things early.

Jeneveth let out a taunting shriek, turning suddenly and buzzing the bronzes that had been closest. Nolinth reared in an attempt not to collide with a younger bronze and suddenly found himself in the very back of the pack.

{{FUCK!}} the bronze roared at his rider, turning back to the Weyr and diving immediately into the weyrlake. Jah'vi shook his head and forced himself from the room, even though things seemed to be getting heated between the young goldrider and her bronzerider lover... he hated to miss that.

Outside he didn't even look, he simply grabbed the hand of the first woman he saw. "My place?" he asked with a seductive grin.

Sh'nar's hands were clenched at his side. It was all he could do to not touch her. He didn't want to claim her before she was ready and have her angered. Nor did he want the wrath of the other riders to come down on him if he did make a move. Not a single one of them really stood a chance. He and Cymrioth had practice with flights, they knew the Gold pair more intimately than anyone else, they were in the best position to win her.

Admittedly, Cymrioth had never won a Gold Flight. He had won greenflights which were infinitely shorter lived although requiring more agility on his part. He was an average sized Bronze and compared to the larger beasts now in the air with him, he was able to turn and move out of the way much more quickly. He could afford to be a little closer to the Queen than some of the others.

That did not prepare him for Jeneveth's sudden about face. He was flying a little lower than Nolinth so while the other Bronze nearly collided, he was safe from injury. Cymrioth acted nearly instinctively as soon as Jeneveth began to turn he carried out the equivalent of a flip turn in the air heading out after the Gold as soon as he came out of his turn.

He wanted to prove to Jeneveth he was the worthiest of her. He would please her more than the others. His size didn't bother him one bit. He was a Bronze and that was all that mattered. The others barely crossed his mind, he knew they were there, he knew where they were positioned around him. He could sense who was in a better place to catch and who was falling behind but these were things he was not focused on. He was only focused on the glorious Queen in front him. Her hide dazzling them all in the sunlight.

Cymrioth's desire grew with every passing moment, as did Sh'nar's. He was having a hard time not reaching out to Belisse. His hand didn't reach for anything that wasn't already trying to make contact with him. His hand moved to touch hers where it was clinging to his shirt. He could not stop himself from touching her even if his human mind was screaming for him not to, that she would surely punish them for it. He had been involved in Queenflights he had simply never won. And this was going to get him similar treatment to Jah'vi.

Cymrioth didn't care, he had made headway from his turn and took the opportunity to reach out to his most beloved of all dragons but not physically as his rider had done. Cym was much better at using his words to convey what he was feeling. The most beautiful, the most radiant and glorious Jeneveth, I follow you with ardent determination. My adoration of you keeps all ills away. I feel no pain, no weariness, only my eternal devotion for you. Test my worthiness oh beloved and I will not dissapoint you.

He wanted to say that the others were not worthy of her but that was for her to decide and he certainly wasn't going to bring up other competitors in his speeches to her. He wanted her to get the sense that he cared not for anyone but her. She was the only dragon in the sky worth paying attention to.

Rielth knew it was integral to keep one eye on the queen and the other on his rivals. By doing so, he easily avoided the near collision with Nolinth and caught another thermal rising under him. He was glad for it, for the warm wind helped him preserve his strength. He flew silent, his faceted eyes hardened in concentration. His would be a test of wits and of skill, not words. Rielth was a dragon of action. He checked his wings, beginning to slowly pick up speed. He could afford it so far, having been so wise about the energy he did expend. Rielth could do not honor to Jeneveth if he tired himself out to early. The sunlight shimmered off her luminous flanks and a chill went through the copper kissed bronze. His eyes sparkled more redly; oh she was a beautiful creature.

'Yes...beautiful.' N'var thought and his noticed his mouth was a little dry. His green eyes were dilated slightly and his nostrils flared ever so slightly, betraying his growing lust. His pants were getting uncomfortable tight and he shifted, rocking a little in his stance. His eyes ate up the color of her hair, the rich tones and plays of light that danced across it in the room. He would very much like to see the lavish length of it tangled in his fingers. Yes, she was a beauty and she deserved someone worthy of her. If not a Wingleader, at least a Wingsecond.

"Beautiful..." he said aloud, a smile spreading over his handsome face. He made no move toward her but his body orientation was like that of a lounging pard, watching....waiting. Rielth soared after the queen, his body tense. He was resolved to stay until their was a winner and the thought of himself made his icor boil.

[[Carefully now. High and long a good clutch makes.]] N'var said to his bronze, his tone dreamy. It was within their reach.

Were Ramirath the type to wax poetic, he'd have showered Jeneveth with descriptions of her glistening hide, the way the sun glinted off her tail as it flicked to guide her through a turn, how graceful she was as she wove through the mountains. But, to the great loss of golds everywhere, the bronze wasn't. Instead, he was relying on his strength and stamina to impress Jeneveth and help him catch her.

When the young gold suddenly turned, he was caught off guard and was left staring at empty space for the briefest of moments. He soon reoriented himself with a strange little roll, and luckily happened upon a thermal that shot him back in line with the bronzes who had passed him in the meantime. Snapping at a tail that got in his way, he growled a warning. He was the strongest bronze, after all. Not them. He was the one Jeneveth would choose.

On the ground, N'kyr was stuck in the middle of the bronzeriders crowding around Belisse. The heat radiating from himself and the others was enough to have him shoving past someone in the hopes of finding clearer air, an almost growl echoing in his throat in time to his dragon's vocalization.

There was no thought of what he'd do if Ramirath won-- the bronzerider never thought that far. Nor was there worry that Belisse belonged to someone else-- whether N'kyr wanted her for himself was anyone's guess, and this wasn't the senior queen's flight. There was only the joint notion that he was clearly the best choice. Jeneveth would be a fool not to choose him (that part was more human than dragon.) And there was a thermal he could catch that would take him even closer to the golden prize...

Inexperienced hatchlings, the lot of them, Remegath thought. Of course, there were a couple more worthy bronzes-- how it was that Nolinth thought himself so, when he could be taken out so easily, was anyone's guess. Clearly, the other bronze needed to be paying more attention, otherwise Jeneveth would not have fooled him so easily. And so early in the chase. But that was fine with Remegath-- the other bronze's backing off meant one less rival.

The chase was his favorite part, watching golden hide glint in the sun or moonlight, flirting with danger as beating wings drove them past rocky outcroppings and through narrow passes they'd never dare take at such reckless speed in any other situation. In participating, he was proving his worth, showing the young queen the skills her progeny could inherit from him. And he had considerable skills, if he did say so himself.

There is no need to pick any of these younglings, Remegath urged Jeneveth, biding his time and letting the young gold enjoy her teasing. Choose me, and your hatchlings will be brave and strong, intelligent and beautiful, like yourself. Choose me, and we will fly to the sun.

K'thane almost smirked himself at Nolinth's early loss. It wasn't any secret that Jah'vi thought himself a great catch, and if nothing else, it could be worth a little teasing later. All good-natured, of course. But then again, that would depend on just much longer his own bronze remained in the competition.

And if in the back of his mind lurked the thought of Remegath siring another clutch that could suffer such horrific losses as the previous one, the bronze showed no sign of being affected by his subconsciousness. Belisse and Jeneveth were certainly a lovely pair, and any male dragon and rider would find themselves lucky to be chosen as winner of their maiden flight.

After her quick dive Jeneveth had shot back up like an arrow, her wings beating hard until she caught another thermal. She let the wind push her upwards, her body in a tight spin. The sun glinted off her hide, a sparkling gold streak across the sky, and she knew she was beautiful.

The compliments were more than welcome to the young queen. She crooned and trumpeted, depending on which comment pleased her most. The young gold felt pulled towards Cymrioth, the heat in her growing more when he called to her.

Yet Remegath's words were enticing... and her golden mother had allowed him to catch her. Obviously he was worthy. And strong! The way he kept just close enough to tantalize her. And Zemarith, a handsome bronze, strong and young. Their eggs would be strong, she knew, but there was no fun in making it easily for them. Reilth and Ramirath were making her blood boil as well, and she couldn't help but arch her neck towards that pair.

{{Come closer,}} she taunted to the remaining bronzes. {{Earn me.}}

Sebienth gave a sudden hiss and began to lose momentum. {{My wing,}} he growled to his rider. {{I have strained it.}} He stated an easy spiral back to the Weyr, favoring his right wing. L'rue was out of the flight weyr, barely taking notice of the young lady Jah'vi was coaxing away, and running to the weyrlake before the bronze had landed. "We'll get you fixed up buddy," he said in a strangled voice, trying to force down the dragonlust.

The scene in the flight weyr had changed. Now with more bronzes out, Belisse was even less aware of her surroundings. The only thing she saw was the sky, and Sh'nar's eyes staring into her's with an expression that pushed her self control past it's limits. Before she knew what she was doing, despite her training from Karene, her mouth was pressed desperately against Sh'nar and her hands were tearing at his tunic. "You," she groaned, "it's gonna be you... "

Up above the Weyr, out over the mountain range now, Jeneveth was being far more discerning than her rider. {{PROVE IT TO ME!}} she taunted once more, wanting the males to show that they were the strongest. Thus her eggs would be strong and healthy as well.

While other Bronzes had been exhausting their energy to keep pace with the glorious young Queen as if she might make her decision right away, Zemarith hung back in a thermal, not wanting to tire himself too quickly. He thought himself rather clever for that, and at the time Jeneveth abruptly turned, leaving some of the other Bronzes at a greater distance, the handsome Zemarith took the opportunity to slip into a position of much closer proximity.

Now, here was a new face for the young Queen to take a closer look at. Like the ardent feelings he poured out to her, Zemarith's hide glowed in firey crimson hues under the bright sun. This was not a Bronze who thought to fill her with tempting words, only to be left unable to fulfill the promise in them, so he assured her just one thing with fervency, "Jeneveth. Others tire themselves, yet the chase is only half of the fun. Fly with me, and both You and Yours will find lasting pleasure." Of course the meaning in those words could have been layered.

Indeed, the cut of the young Bronze's musculature proved that he was strong and capable of providing her with a healthy clutch. Zemarith however, was in no hurry to finish the flight; one needn't rush such things to get the most out of it.


Those perceptions...were they more a projection of dragon or rider? S'jiro's mind had become so closely entwined with that of his Bronze that even he couldn't tell where the fuzzy line of his own thoughts began or ended had gone. Like his dragon, the rider himself came into the Flight Weyr a little late, but he knew there'd been no decision made as of yet so needn't worry. It wasn't strictly up to Belisse as to who won her -not on a day like today. The Bronzerider drew nearer her, only brave or smart enough to observe, though, like the others, it bothered him that the Queen Rider was trying to clutch at the shirt of Sh'nar. That irked him the most, especially given the sudden feelings of rivalry between he and his best friend, even if others were also in too close a proximity to be of comfort to him. But S'jiro was seeing now primarily through the eyes of a lustful beast whose mating instinct was not inclusive of anyone other than he and the Queen.

No rush though, no rush. Zemarith was an impressive-looking specimen of Bronze masculinity, so there was no reason to start feeling overly-jealous of others just yet. Focusing solely on the Gold before him -the Belisse who struggled before them all- S'jiro calmed his desires enough to wait patiently for Jeneveth to make her decision.

Ramirath was, of course, up to the challenge. He might not be as agile as the smaller males, but he made up for it in sheer size and determination. With a flick of his tail and several powerful beats of his wings, he shot upward after Jeneveth. In clearer air and with the aid of the air currents, he might have the advantage.

But, unlike with his rider, the knowledge didn't go to Ramirath's head. He simply knew, and pressed on, mostly ignoring the others, intent on the prize before them. His quarry had asked him to prove himself to her, after all, and so he would, for he knew that was the way to win her.

So the bronze followed her, gaining the smallest bit of ground with every deep stroke of the air. Gleaming golden hide was the ultimate lure, a siren's song drawing him towards whatever fate awaited him. Jeneveth willing, she would be that fate, though it was her decision, whether to choose him or leave him unfulfilled.

He was the strongest bronze, though, and surely she could see that...

N'kyr, on the ground, found the space to step closer to Belisse, as if mimicking his dragon. Had he been more rooted in his own skin, he might have been angry with Sh'nar for Ramirath's sake, seeing the other bronzerider as trying to stake a claim when no winner had yet been chosen. But he knew nothing, saw nothing, except the sparkle of the sun off the young queen ahead.

And she would be his.

Remegath might have been smaller than Ramirath, but he was older and wiser, one of the most experienced bronzes still chasing the gold. He'd spotted Rielth moving up into the clouds, but rather thought this young queen was too smart to be caught by such a trick. Of course, he could be proven wrong in the end, but he didn't think he would be.

No matter where she flew, Remegath deftly-- or as much as was possible for a bronze-- kept his position beside and slightly behind Jeneveth. He had no plans to try to catch her unawares, he would simply be constant, right by her side, and wait for her to realize that he was the obvious choice of a mate.

Words mean nothing. The proof is in the doing, lovely one. When you are ready, I will be here.

-------

Through his bronze's eyes, K'thane noted Sebienth's veering off with what was mostly likely an injury. Not that such things didn't happen often with flights, but still, the thought of your other half in pain was not welcome at any time. He was grateful no such problem had befallen Remegath this time around, at least not so far.

Even through the dragonlust, the bronzerider managed to send encouragement and love over the bond he held with his dragon. It was returned, with a rather healthy dose of heat, as the bronze strove after Jeneveth. If the gold didn't choose Remegath, his rider certainly wouldn't mind finding someone else to spend the aftermath with.

((I hope this post isn't too lack luster. I'm feeling so tired, just tried to get what I could down.))


Instead of the smack he fully expected to come, he was receiving something far more pleasurable. Her hands were tearing his shirt open. Before Sh’nar knew what was happening her mouth was on his. He either could not or would not pull away from his lover. He was completely lost in the heat of their passion.

While the Bronzerider allowed Belisse to do whatever she wanted to him, most of him was in the air with his dragon. Unlike the man Sh’nar, the dragon Cymrioth knew that no matter what Belisse might think, Jeneveth had not decided anything and that decision would be made in the air and not on the ground.

Cymrioth was not expecting his rider to lose control in the way that he was beginning to. The Bronze was keeping his head being the level headed one. He had enough sense to know that his rider was being influenced by the Queenrider and was not acting on his own.

The distraction though was enough to allow some of the other Bronzes time to get a word in to Jeneveth to try to win her over. The Bronze was nowhere near to tiring. As he had stated to Jeneveth he felt nothing but the urge to pursue her and conquer her.

As she rose up through the sky, he followed as closely as he could. He flew behind her and slightly below the Queen careful not to strain himself by flying against thermals. If he wasn’t her favorite he would have to prove to her he should be. The Bronze’s wings pushed through the colder air as they rose higher. He was constantly looking for an opportunity to catch her by surprise. As more of the Bronzes and browns dropped out of the flight, he knew he had to step things up a little.

There would be nothing to keep him from taking any opportunity that presented. He would not back out of this flight for anything except his rider. Since his rider was already quite pleased with Belisse, he saw no reason for any objections.

The Bronze’s wings carried him up another small thermal. He was close, so close to the beautiful Jeneveth. Unfortunately there were others just as close, waiting for her to choose. Had they truly proven themselves worthy?

((The concept of the post was by Trouble and she gave her permission for me to God-Mod her characters. She approved this post before it was posted. As you know she has a broken wrist and its made it very difficult for her to type. So here is the new Jeneveth post. ))


She knew which of her Bronzes were still in the game. There was her rider’s favorite choice, Cymrioth. He was a fine Bronze, young, strong but then so were Zemarith and Ramirath. Flying near to Cymrioth was Remegath who was in his prime and much more experienced. Also nearby was Rielth, he was quick and cunning. She wanted to tease them all, to play with them but she felt her young wings growing tired.

Jeneveth took them through a few more complicated maneuvers, making them fly higher to where the air grew thin. The air burned in her lungs as she took in air, the few Bronzes who followed were worthy of her attention. Her rider’s intense feelings for one male in particular swayed her final decision. She turned to be caught by Cymrioth only to be thrown sideways by the thermal she tried to crossover. She was tossed into the waiting claws of Remegath.

Jeneveth cried out in anger and tried to fight the Bronze. A more rational thought came to her, he had been intelligent enough to know the thermal would bring her to him. He had won her because of his cunning mind and body’s strength. He was a Bronze well worthy of her. The Queen couldn’t have escaped the Bronze even if she wanted to now, her wings were caught up in his as they half floated, and half fell down through the sky.

Back in the flight room, Belisse had removed Sh’nar’s shirt completely. They were so absorbed in their lovemaking that it was a huge shock for her when Remegath caught Jeneveth. Suddenly Sh’nar wasn’t there. Instead another blonde haired, blue eyed man was touching her. Jeneveth was with her, the mating lust was so strong that she soon forgot to miss him.

Sh’nar was becoming carried away by the amorous attentions of Belisse mixed with the lustful desire of his dragon. He realized his shirt had come off of his body though he made no move to do the same for her just yet. There were still men in the room, the flight wasn’t won yet. He was certain that Cymrioth should and would win. Why else would Belisse be so certain?

And Cymrioth might have won if he had factored in the thermal which plunged Jeneveth into the claws of Remegath. Cymrioth did not ever take losing a flight well and the moment it happened he roared in displeasure. He left the flight completely dejected, flying slowly without much of a direction or target. He was so upset it pulled Sh’nar right out of his own mind, he moved away from Belisse quickly, not wanting to start a fight with the other Bronzerider, who had won her.

He was so fucking pissed. Not only was he now shirtless, his desire was so built up he didn’t trust himself to take care of matters but nor would he subject one of the flight moths to his current mood. He had never allowed himself to become physically abusive but to make love to him now was to take a huge risk with how violent he might become. Although perhaps his emotional tension would dissipate if he allowed his physical need to be sated.

Cymrioth no longer cared what Sh’nar was doing. He was too upset with how the flight had gone to make mental contact with his rider. Sh’nar was used to it. The dragon was going into one of his depressions. Sh’nar knew better than to get involved. Instead he fumed within himself, walking back to his weyr without companionship and without a shirt. He thought he could control himself till he got back to his place.

Everyone was better off steering clear of him and it seemed everyone nearby knew to do so. The shirtless Bronzerider caught the glances of the few people who dared to look at him and he wanted to either bash their faces in or screw them. The line dividing the two choices was very thin. He just needed to get back to his weyr, he reminded himself. Once he got there he could take care of himself and no one would be hurt and he could bed some girl when he was feeling less angry. His plan, to his mind was flawless, he had no intention of hurting anyone.

He didn’t like thinking about the idea of someone else sleeping with HIS woman. She was his. And she shouldn’t be in bed with K’thane. Sh’nar had never experienced such extreme jealousy before. As livid as he was, when he actually did bump into someone, still in the haze of mating lust and anger, he immediately, latched on to their arm. It took him a moment to realize he recognized the girl. He got out her name, but did not relinquish her arm, “Tsuki.” The words came in a low, sensual voice.

The girl had barely been aware that the flight had begun by the time a suitor must have been chosen. Tsuki was on her way toward her brother's weyr to see if he'd joined; by the time she'd tried viewing from outside, she could barely see their shapes in the sky, they'd flown so high, so she couldn't tell who was who by looking.

The Apprentice Harper was about to round a corner to the next corridor when Bronzerider Sh'nar caught her abruptly by surprise, his hand easily finding its grip about her thin arm. He'd pulled her forcefully at first, so she cried out, shocked before she finally realizing who'd taken hold of her. Fumbling to regain her footing, her round, doe-like eyes peered up at him with undeniable innocence from behind the veil that was worn over the bridge of her nose to hide the scarring on her face. Of course, when she realized it was Sh'nar she was no longer as worried; there was something different now about her brother's best friend now, though. He spoke her name with the tenderness and longing of a lover that she had never known.

Somehow, that alerted her. Sh'nar must have been amoungst the Bronzeriders who'd flown the Queen, and he and Cymiroth hadn't won. She'd heard about it being a terrible thing for a Bronzerider to lose a flight like that. Tsuki herself didn't know what it was like to be impressed to a dragon exactly, even though she had conversations periodically with Zemarith, but she knew that their emotions became linked and riders had a hard time controlling themselves afterward. They became almost like animals, very instinctive and their emotions weren't all their own. Was that how Sh'nar was now? Is that what she felt different about him?

Tsuki didn't know what to do or say. At first, her hand came up to rest on Sh'nar's gently, her eyes meeting his in an almost pleading way since his grip hurt her. Sh'nar was her brother's best friend so she was worried for him and wanted to help him, but at the same time, she didn't know what she could do for him. Of course, young and naive still, Tsuki didn't even think about the fact that assisting him with physical needs was going to be paramount in the task of helping him at all. All the same, she hadn't really thought of denying him either -but did she really understand what that kind of decision held in store?

Because she could feel the tension through his touch, she started to pry a little at his fingers, the more he held her there, the more uncertain of his mental condition she became. He'd never done anything like this to her before. "Sh'nar. Is everything alright? You don't seem yourself. Is there something I can do for you?" Again, Tsuki wanted to find some way to be reassuring to him emotionally if that was the case, but she had no idea the depth of his most primal need right then.



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S'jiro had been aware of Sh'nar's walking away from the Queen and her chosen Bronze, but he'd hardly noticed that everyone was slowly creeping out of the room to leave the two alone. Of course, he followed after to give the two their privacy, and directed Zemarith to find himself a willing Green if he so chose.

The Bronze dragon having his own needs to fulfill, broke from his pursuit of the Queen to where back up plan A happened to be. Of course, Greens were typically more willing than Queens in a flight so, Zemarith had no real trouble enticing a pair to satisfy them. Well, they could be the rest of the day satisfying eachother as far as he was concerned...it was S'jiro who'd act disagreeably about it later.

Remegath held steady when Jeneveth first tried to get away, despite the claws he felt at his side. Hurting the young gold was not his intention, and she had clearly been unprepared for the air current that brought her to him. He had been well aware of it, of course, and couldn't completely tamp down the smug satisfaction he felt when it was obvious the wily queen had let her guard down and misjudged the thermal.

When it was clear Jeneveth was no longer fighting him, but had turned to him in acceptance of his catch, the bronze twined his tail with hers. You have chosen well, lovely one, he crooned, ready to make good on his earlier promise. Now, we will fly to the sun.

-------------

K'thane was only half aware of Sh'nar stepping back. Partly because his first concern had been for Remegath when the young gold had clawed for escape. And partly because that same queen had then turned to his bronze ready and willing to recognize him as her mate.

That Belisse had been on the verge of choosing another rider as her lover was not completely lost on K'thane, though. It wouldn't have been his preference to have to either share or walk away, but thankfully no attempt to make that decision ever came into play. He might think about saying something to Sh'nar later, but then again, it was ultimately the gold and her rider who chose the winner. And the younger bronzerider had not been it, for better or worse.

Belisse wasn't pushing him away, she was drawing him closer, just as Jeneveth was with Remegath high above them. And then there was no thought of resistance left, no thought of the possible consequences, and K'thane did his best to take the goldrider with him into the malestrom of heat and need and fire that urged them both to forget anything and anyone else.

Mine! Ramirath roared his own unhappiness at the older bronze who had just caught his queen. Furious, he cut across the swath of competitors, not caring whose way he blocked, who had to draw up short to avoid slamming into him. He had just lost, and he was supposed to win!

N'kyr, in the flight weyr, stumbled back into someone as the wave of his bronze's anger hit him. He didn't bother to apologize, though, hastily shoving his way out of the room as fast as he could. There was nothing left for him there, no reason for him to stay. And he needed air, cool air rushing into his lungs and over his skin.

He couldn't get enough, taking huge gulps of it when he finally burst out into the open, looking probably about as disheveled as he ever did and not for one second caring that someone might see him. Anger and dragonlust were still riding him, and he half-blindly started walking, needing to get somewhere, anywhere. Just away.

Of course, in the back of his mind, the young bronzerider knew it was probably for the best that Ramirath had lost. Because if his dragon had won, N'kyr would have been handing control of his fate over to Belisse. He knew how close she was with her classmates, and how women gossiped. The others would likely quickly know just what the goldrider thought of him afterwards, and they'd find reason to ridicule him. Better to not let anyone that close than to risk leaving himself open and vulnerable to attack.