The Rider's Pride - 14. Chapter 14

“Maybe I should move out.” B’rrel said sourly as J’shon stood on the ledge looking out over the weyr. Liliath was down at the lake, sleeping next to Ojeth, who was also asleep. As soon as their riders had started arguing again, both dragons had flown down to the lake. Neither dragon understood why their riders were so upset at each other, and had taken to leaving the weyr whenever J’shon and B’rrel argued.

It was one of the few clear mornings they had experienced during this most difficult winter. It was still early in the morning, and the sun wasn’t due to rise for another twenty minutes. The Weyr was anything but dark though, and in the crisp morning air, a buzz of general activity was stirring. It would be midday before the Weyr would be packed with Holders and Crafters as well as weyrfolk.

How many would be praying that the expectation of a perfect alignment of sun and Red Star would be right, and how many praying it would be wrong, J’shon didn’t want to even consider. Pern had been through the roughest winter on record, with more groundquakes, heavy snowfall and all sorts of natural disasters. Another new volcano had risen above the surface off of the eastern edge of the Northern Continent. Benden Sweepriders had spotted the thing two sevendays ago.

“Please don’t.” J’shon said softly while fingering the dark green gemstone carved into a likeness of Liliath. It had been a gift from N’faren on his birthing day. That had been a most uncomfortable night, and he still blushed at the memory of the look on his father’s face when he said that N’faren would need his own room for the night. The mixture of look and confusion, as well as embarrassment on the man’s face had been uncomfortable, dissatisfying, and confusing as well.

Had his father really changed so much that he was not uncomfortable about his son’s… sexual activities?

“That bloody blue rider is here at least twice a sevenday and it’s obvious you crave his attentions!” B’rrel muttered. “Maybe you’d let him stay the night like he wants if I’m not here!”

“I don’t want him to stay the night!” J’shon shouted, losing his temper at last and not caring who heard him yell. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, B’rrel. Why do you want to do this?”

“Maybe I want to be more than your best friend!” B’rrel shouted back and looked aghast at his words. J’shon paled, but his emotions and reactions were no longer under his control. He’d been a simmering mess for the past four and a half days, and he lost it.

“I can’t be more than your best friend, or anyones!” J’shon shouted back. “I… it’s one thing with Liliath rises, I can’t control that and it’s not that bad, but I don’t want it any other time!”

Goreth says to stop shouting so the whole weyr can hear you. Liliath’s mental voice was sharp with disdain. You are loud enough to wake us up, and it is cold out here.

I’m sorry, love. J’shon said, instantly calming down. He felt guilty for putting her out of the weyr again. It was her home as much as his, or B’rrel’s.

“I’m sorry, J’shon.” B’rrel said softly. “Ojeth reminds me that he and I are on conveying duty today and should be leaving soon to be ready for our runs.”

“B’rrel, please, I know you don’t like him.” J’shon said as softly as he could. “Don’t leave the weyr because of that. I won’t invite him up here again, I promise.”

“What about when Liliath rises?” B’rrel asked. “Will you close her flight? Ojeth will fly her you know.”

“Please, don’t.” J’shon asked in a plaintive tone. “It… what would happen after? I don’t know if I could handle that. I know they closed it the first time, but I know what to expect now and I can’t ask S’flin to let Aliarth and D’kov do what they did the first time.”

“So you’re leaving it open, letting your dragon decide?” B’rrel asked with a gleam in his eye that turned J’shon’s stomach.

“Yes.” He sighed.

“So you can’t keep Ojeth from chasing her.” B’rrel smiled tightly as there was a rush of wings on the ledge and Ojeth appeared. J’shon shook his head and went back into this room while B’rrel got ready to fly down to breakfast and then off to his morning runs. The timing of things was just awful. He was weyrbound until Liliath rose, and today the Weyr would be crowded with outsiders. Liliath would rise, but they were pretty sure she would hold it until most of the holders left. No other green was supposed to rise until tomorrow, and Zoeth was speaking firmly to Liliath to keep her under control. It was one of the things that a gold dragon could do, as part of her ability to heavily influence all the Weyr’s dragons.

When B’rrel had left, J’shon returned to the ledge and looked down at the lake where Liliath was now alone on the beach. A mental touch showed she was fast asleep despite the crisp, cold morning air and he decided not to bother her. If she got uncomfortable, she’d just fly back up to the weyr and warm up. With a sigh, he looked out over the bowl at all the activity and decided he would not hitch a ride down to the Lower Caverns.

The newest weyrlings, bonded to their dragons for only a few sevendays were already up and feeding their rapidly growing dragon. The newest queen from that clutch, Igen’s fourth, was at the ledge to the smallest of the weyrwoman weyrs, receiving her morning feeding from the plump, brown-haired hold girl that had Impressed her. Morany was one of the daughters of Lemos’s Lord Holder, who had been very proud that it was his daughter who had Impressed Lerieth. What they would do when the gold egg from Pinath’s first clutch hatched he wasn’t sure. All the weyrs for weyrwomen had been taken. Igen had not had five full queens in ages. Normally, a fifth queen was sent to another Weyr, but all the other Weyrs now had their full complement of queen dragons, and two others were in the same situation as Igen, having too many.

Not that any dragonrider would admit to there every being too many queen dragons.

Still, the shells had been barely cleared from the Hatching before Pinath was moving in to lay the first of her eggs. Two days later, the Weyr had rejoiced at twenty-eight eggs, including one gold egg.

The weyrling barracks were full, and almost all the weyrs for adult riders were full. At the rate they were going, stonemasons would have to be brought in to cut new weyrs in the upper levels. Speculation in the Lower Caverns was that they could carve another thirty weyrs from the rock without destabilizing the crater walls. If they needed more than that, drastic measures might have to be taken.

No one wanted to think that maybe there were reasons for so many eggs on the sands. Everyone knew dragons died even at the best of times from everyday, normal activities, and more died during Threadfall. Four more riders had died, three of old age and one weyrling. One old rider and the weyrling had died going between and never coming out. Another dragon had burst its heart trying to fly in heavy winds, and the last had died when his rider passed away from a heart attack.

The last one, the heart attack, had been three days ago and B’rrel was considering petitioning for that rider’s now empty weyr.

“Damn him!” J’shon muttered to himself with vehemence. B’rrel was a brown rider, not a blue! Why was he so interested in crawling into J’shon’s bed? Couldn’t they just be friends? Yes, they got along well, but why did B’rrel have to want the stuff that went on behind closed doors as well as the friendship? Why couldn’t he be J’shon’s closest friend in life without the bed stuff? Liliath rose twice, maybe three times at most in a turn, and J’shon would take whatever rider whose dragon caught her. Then the rider would leave after the deed was done, and J’shon could go back to being B’rrel’s best friend. What was wrong with that? J’shon liked the idea, the neatness of it, and he liked the thought of living in this weyr with B’rrel until they died of old age.

Certainly he didn’t want to share living space with anyone else.

That was why he had decided to keep encouraging N’faren’s attentions, and why he wanted to make sure any dragon who wanted to could try to catch Liliath. She liked the attention, craved it the closer she got to rising, and N’faren was safe. He was from another Weyr, he’d never be allowed to transfer here, especially if J’shon didn’t ask H’mal for that to be approved. More importantly, J’shon was quite sure the blue rider, once he got the physical things he wanted would grow tired of J’shon and find another green rider to chase. J’shon could get the physical thing over with and not have to worry about dealing with the rider afterwards. The truth was he still felt uncomfortable whenever he was alone with D’kov. As long as someone else was around, he was fine around D’kov, but with just the two of them, he remembered what happened the first time Liliath rose, and he’d feel… desires forming.

His mind went around and around the problem as the sky grew lighter and the sun began to rise. Dragons flew by his ledge, and he waved back to riders who were heading off to pick up their passengers. The antics of the newly Impressed weyrlings caught his attention for a time, distracting his internal dialogue. His gaze softened as he saw a pair, a boy just barely into his fifteenth turn had his arm wrapped around his little green dragonet, helping her across the weyr bowl. The boy was short and skinny, so much like J’shon that he drifted back to memories of those first days with his own Liliath.

Things had been so much simpler then.

He wondered if the old rider, the one who had died that night, had looked down and watched him and Liliath like this while he was still a weyrling? The man had been weyrmate to a blue rider for three decades, although his weyrmate had died long before he did. What was that like? Had they shared the physical just when the dragons rose or more? He knew D’kov and S’flin were physical any time the randy pair felt like it, but he also knew two other green riders who only did it when their dragons rose. Sure, both complained they hadn’t found anyone to do it at other times, and S’flin said they were both so bitter no one could stand staying in their weyr for more than twenty minutes, but they could still be physical if they really wanted. They weren’t, so it was possible to be a green rider and not be physical outside mating flights.

Why, oh why couldn’t B’rrel be happy with that?

J’shon lost his train of thought as K’mer returned from picking up their father, mother, and grandfather. He waved at them, all on brown Sharth and signaled for one of the weyrlings on elevator duty to pick him up. Today was a calm day, which he was grateful for as the bronze weyrling landed a touch shakily on his ledge. The weyrlings from this group had been grounded half the time lately because of the heavy winds.

“I saw her asleep on the beach and was wondering when you’d want a ride.” The impertinent bronze rider smirked at him. “You hoping she won’t wake until after the luncheon feast?”

“Mind your own business, weyrling.” J’shon snapped as he climbed up behind the young rider. The bronze wasn’t nearly full grown yet, but he was still bigger than Liliath. He noticed the young rider’s well-formed body as they made the short trip down the bowl, and cursed the effects of Liliath’s closeness to rising on him. The lad was two turns younger than him!

“Thanks.” J’shon said curtly while mentally trying to decide if he should report the lad’s impertinence to the Weyrlingmaster. As he stomped into the noisy Lower Caverns to greet his family he decided not to report the weyrling. All green riders got snappy when their greens were this close, and he didn’t want to get the handsome kid in trouble just because he was being proddy.

“How are you doing son?” Kapian asked with a smile. “We saw Liliath sleeping by the lake as we flew in.”

“We’re doing fine.” J’shon tried to say in an even voice, but it sounded waspish even to his ears. His mother looked a little hurt, and that only got him more upset, but what capped it off was his father’s understanding look. “If you’ll excuse me, I was just going to grab some klah and head back to my weyr. I need to mend some riding straps.”

“You… you take care son.” Kapian said quickly when Serece started to protest. Was there more gray in her hair? At least the dress she had on was beautiful, a fine example of her growing status as the Lady of a prominent minor Holder.

The klah was too hot and not sweet enough, but he took it with him as he exited the Lower Caverns. No, he’d go back up to his weyr and try to calm down. If he got too uptight, Liliath might wake up and rise. That would be just what the Weyr needed on this day, of all days. Sure, Zoeth could probably calm her down if it was too embarrassing a moment, but not even a queen could stop a green from rising if it was actually started. Or could she?

“Back up already?” The same bronze weyrling said when J’shon signaled again for a ride back up.

“Just get me up to my weyr, you impertinent brat.” J’shon barked out and the weyrling paled before nodding. It wasn’t easy climbing the big bronze with one hand. At least the klah mug had a lid designed to keep the liquid inside in these situations. No sooner had he gotten seated than the bronze lifted off and he was back at his weyr very quickly. J’shon said nothing as he slid down from the young bronze and stomped into his weyr.

The klah was already growing cold.

Irritated at the world at the moment, J’shon got up from the table that held too many memories of nights spent with B’rrel, mending riding straps or playing cards. His brother was part of those memories of card games, and he grew more irritated. He stalked into his room and guilt washed over him at the fine rugs that had been a birthing gift from his mother. Shards! She was here in the Weyr and he had left her because he couldn’t be trusted to keep his emotions in check. With a growl of frustration, he stomped back out into the main room of the weyr and paced for several minutes, trying to calm down.

Liliath, now she calmed him down, and he stalked out onto his ledge, standing near the edge that was closest to the lake. There she was, her tail twitching in her sleep as she lay near the lake. She really was beautiful, her forest-green hide practically glowed in the early morning light. A few dragons returned with passengers as he watched, but most would not arrive for another hour or two. Watching Liliath sleep did work at calming him down. She’d sleep most of the morning, he was sure, and as long as he remained calm, everything would be fine. His parents and the Weyr’s guests would be long gone in the afternoon when she rose, and so he would not be embarrassed by his parents and non-weyrfolk witnessing his beautiful, oh so beautiful Liliath rising for the second time.

A now-familiar blue dragon gliding over the weyr rim caused his temper to rage again. What was he doing here this early? Yes, J’shon had told him that Liliath would rise today. How could he not when the man could have seen it for himself on his last visit? Stentath looked particularly handsome today, a vibrant sky-blue that caught rays from the sun that was still below the Weyr rim. Liliath liked him, although she did like Ojeth more. They said the rider had as much influence on his dragon’s choice as the dragon, sometimes more, and it really would be better if…

The watch dragon bugled a greeting to the Fort rider, and that woke Liliath up with a start. She stood up on the beach, saw the blue dragon in the air and trumpeted a challenge. J’shon lost the last grip on himself, and suddenly he was with her, feeling the rushing blood roaring through her, and the primal need that was gripping her.

Hold, little daughter. A vibrant, rich voice said and they knew it was Zoeth talking to them. Liliath let out a strangled screech of frustration, but fought to keep control of herself as the queen demanded of her. Just for a few moments, little one.

I am not little! Liliath shouted back, but the golden voice didn’t react the way she’d expected, frustrating her more.

There are only a handful of visitors here. Another strong, beautiful golden voice said to her and Liliath screeched again.

Let her go now. A different, lighter voice said, and she recognized this as Pinath. The other had been Willeth. All the mature queens were talking to her, holding her back! Did none of them care?

We care. Zoeth said in a mild, frustrating rebuke. Goreth’s rider, and some other bronze riders are making sure the visitors are all in the Lower Caverns and will be distracted by a song from the Harper.

As soon as they are all in there, and the Harper plays you can rise, it won’t be long now. Pinath said consolingly.

Other riders are being told not to return until you have had your flight. Willeth said gently and Liliath screamed again at the delay. Were they mocking her just because she was unable to create eggs? She was a fighting dragon!

You are a good fighter, daughter. Zoeth’s voice was maternal in its caring tone. You deserve the best that can catch you. Let us make sure you have the best. I am proud of you, daughter.

The blood still coursed through her veins, but Liliath calmed down a bit under the influence of the queens, while dragons scurried through the air. Even as older riders managed to bustle all the guests inside the Lower Caverns, and the sound of a gitar being played could be heard, J’shon was vaguely aware of wind whipping his hair as a dragon dropped his rider off on the ledge. His gaze was locked on Liliath, who was almost whimpering under the mental restraint. J’shon’s mind was with her, barely aware of his body being pulled back from the ledge’s edge by hands that practically burned him. He pulled out of them, but stayed further back from the ledge where K’mer had dragged him.

K’mer? His brother? Not again, but no, their parents were being distracted, and that was not his father at the edge of the cavern, peering out with H’mal at his side. No, his father would not want to see any of this! Right after his brother came N’faren, whose Stentath looked extremely confident.

More wind and wings beating the air announced the arrival of another rider. Down by the lake, Sharth was already settling onto the rim, looking down at the green, waiting for her to make her move. Another blue, a blue he knew from their time in the Weyrling Barracks landed on the rim above the lake even as his rider moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with J’shon. The next rider to land was a brown rider from the clutch before theirs, a handsome enough man with a handsome enough dragon to honor his Liliath. They came more rapidly now, brown and blue riders from his own weyrling group, all young men near his age who would be in their first flight for a green, and five riders from the clutch group before theirs, two of whom had already caught a green. Of them all, N’faren and Stentath were still the most handsome and most experienced. D’kov and Aliarth had taught them experience mattered. The last to arrive surprised him the most.

What was A’toly doing here? His bronze was most definitely mature, having flown after Pinath. Why would they try to fly Liliath and J’shon? He didn’t even bring a substitute for when the actual act happened? Was he planning on actually coupling with J’shon? Most bronzes brought a woman to act as substitute, and the green rider could use a substitute as well. Bronze riders who had little or no interest in other men usually chose this, but the look in A’toly’s eyes told him this bronze rider didn’t want a substitute.

Still, after it was over, he’d go his own way, J’shon was certain. That would be almost as good as N’faren, who was looking at him with far too much possessiveness.

Just a moment longer, daughter. Zoeth’s voice was crooning now, and stirred Liliath’s blood with anticipation. She looked up at the bronze, brown, and blue dragons who were perched above her, their eyes whirling as redly as hers, and trumpeted a challenge to them.

A lone brown, a familiar brown appeared over the weyr, and she let loose another challenge to him. How dare he show up so late! Oh yes, if he decided he was going to try after all, he would have to prove he was worthy! She had a bronze up there, and knew the bronze wanted her. His rider was even standing on the ledge with hers, and hadn’t brought a substitute! If he had, she’d have never let him catch her, but he hadn’t! If that brown thought he would get her without a fight, she would show him!

Go, daughter, fly high! The voice of Zoeth roared in her head and all restraint on her was loosened. With a battle cry she launched herself into the sky, and beat her wings so hard that not even the bronze came close to catching her in those first few moments of flight. The haughty brown who had arrived so late had barely dropped off his rider before she took to the air, and was trailing the pack of ten dragons that worked their wings hard to follow her out over the desert.

This early in the morning there weren’t many warm thermals to carry her higher, so Liliath beat her wings harder, gaining altitude faster than the dragons flying after her. The bronze was in the lead, with the Fort blue close behind, and several browns behind them. The sky was cloudless, providing no spots to hide from those who pursued her.

That didn’t matter, she wasn’t wanting to hide from them for long. She did want them to have to earn her, though, and even as their riders crowded around hers in a circle, their hands reaching out for him as their dragons struggled after her, she shattered the morning air with a stentorian bugle.

Her tail warned her the bronze was closing even as the bronze’s rider touched her rider’s hand with his. She whipped to the right, and was surprised to find the bronze had anticipated her move. His forearms reached to her, his neck straining even as his short rider struggled up onto his toes to plant his lips passionately against her rider’s. She screamed, not ready to be caught and pulled away in a maneuver the bronze couldn’t match even as her rider twisted from the short rider’s grasp.

The briefest glimpse of blue on blue warned her the Fort dragon was waiting for exactly such a move and she slipped out of his grasp just as her rider slipped out of his rider’s grasp, laughing at the thought of being caught so easily. She dived for a few dragonlengths, letting that brown who flew her rider’s brother think he was going to get lucky before she beat her wings and climbed straight up, away from him.

Maybe she shouldn’t have, from the reaction of her rider to the look of lust on his brother’s face. There was something there, between them, but her rider rejected it just as she rejected the brown and gained altitude quicker than any of her pursuers could follow. The Fort blue was far back in the pack now, and she bugled again in laughter at him. She was faster, and could fly circles around any of these louts.

That funny blue she remembered from the Barracks tried to catch her as she leveled off and flew further out into the desert, but her quick turn back towards the Weyr fooled him and he overshot her even as another brown who had hatched shortly before her tried to rise up in front of her. She backwinged, losing speed to keep from running into him, and felt the wind of a dragon flying behind her.

It was that bronze again, catching her even as his rider caught the attention of her rider. It wasn’t often a bronze went after a green. They belonged to the queens, and that was what convinced her to jerk mightily, throwing him off before climbing higher. She barely saw the brown blur diving towards her, but she felt the impact of their bodies meeting and cried out in both passion and anger at the same time.

His rider’s eyes were staring into her rider’s, with emotions they had both feared seeing there, writ plain as the sun now above the horizon. Even as the brown moved to hold onto her, their blood boiling with passion, and memories of nights spent cuddled together, her rider fought the urge to surrender to the brown’s rider. He was afraid, and she struggled in the brown’s grasp even as her rider struggled far down below them.

The flare of passion between them pulsed again, and as one they knew the bitter truth. As much as her rider feared this, they both wanted this to happen. The brown and his rider were a part of their lives, and Liliath wanted Ojeth in her life as much as her rider wanted B’rrel to forever be a part of his. As the brown wrapped around her, she let out a bugle of triumph this time, even as her rider melted against the rider with the pale, reddish hair. Her neck twined with the one she wanted, and as the circle of lusty riders melted away from around her J’shon and his B’rrel, J’shon gave in to his suppressed desires and met B’rrel’s mouth with his own.

They were falling now, and climbing higher in the throes of passionate bonding even as her rider was carried by his into the brown rider’s room. Their clothes disappeared, and along with them, so too did her rider release his fears and give in to what was happening. Together, all thoughts fled and they experienced the passion that was what her blood called for in them both.

“So it was Ojeth who caught her.” Kapian said softly to the Weyrleader as they watched the ledge where riders were being picked up by exhausted dragons. Several green riders, and a few women, rushed to them, consoling them in their moment of, not quite rejection, not quite failure, but less than successful chase. Almost as if by magic, they all disappeared, at least those riders wanting physical comfort. The rest returned to their weyrs to ride out the feelings that came with having participated in, but not succeeded with, a mating flight.

“It was a good flight.” H’mal said softly. He knew much of Kapian’s distaste for the Weyr. Crivan had shared it with him long before J’shon ever came to the Weyr. Kapian’s mother had died when Kapian was little more than a boy, and Crivan had retreated to Fort Weyr, seeking comfort with an old friend, who had Impressed a green. Crivan had entered into a short relationship with the green rider, something not too common but not so uncommon as to be stopped by the Weyrleader. Kapian had seen it as the most awful betrayal of his mother as could be committed. “A good flight on a day like today is a good omen.”

“They… B’rrel is your son, is he not?” Kapian said softly.

“Yes, although he was fostered in the Lower Caverns as is the Weyr tradition.” H’mal reminded him. Holders had such close familial relationships that they often could not comprehend that it was really the entire Weyr that raised weyr-bred children.

“Do you… do you think it might last more than just this flight?” Kapian asked in a weak voice and H’mal turned in surprise to face the Holder who was both boon and bane to the Weyr over the last several Turns. Kapian looked uncomfortable with the topic, but also hopeful. “I have seen the way your son looks at Jashon, pardon, J’shon, and I think he has real feelings. It is my hope that my son will find someone, and remain faithful to, to him.”

“If your son lets him, B’rrel will hold him so tight J’shon is likely to smother.” H’mal said softly, watching for the Holder’s reaction. Kapian’s smile surprised him at how clean, and accepting it was at that moment.

“I always knew J’shon was different from his brothers, although I won’t even think about seeing K’mer up there.” Kapian said with a shudder.

“K’mer cares deeply for his brother.” H’mal said softly looking back out at the Weyr. K’mer had walked off with that drudge he liked. “I’ve seen it before, where a brother is protective of another. K’mer seeks to make sure his brother knows that if there is no other acceptable choice, K’mer will be there for him.”

“Yes, that would fit my son.” Kapian actually chuckled softly. “K’mer has always looked after J’shon in ways not even I fully understand. My sons, do they really fit in well?”

“They do.” H’mal said tightly. “K’mer is loyal, faithful, a solid young man that can be depended on in any situation. J’shon is a little more touchy, but that is to be expected in a green rider. He is always friendly, he often plays to entertain the Weyr at night, and is a very witty and intelligent young man. Several of my older riders have often said that he sees the world through rose-colored goggles, always seeing the best of a situation, and in a person. He sets high expectations of those around him, and does it in such a way that he makes them want to rise to those expectations. I cannot remember the last time a green had so many dragons chasing her. Poor A’toly, I think he actually had his heart set on catching J’shon at least once, even though he’s not attracted to him physically. A’toly is attracted to J’shon’s company though, and he doesn’t get as much of it as he wants.”

“You sound like you spend a lot of time watching them.” Kapian said softly.

“I watch all my riders.” H’mal shrugged. Most of what he’d just said came from Ramina, who watched her clutch mates, especially J’shon with a protective passion. Sometimes he thought she would have preferred J’shon to be a bronze rider from the way she watched over him. “As I said, B’rrel will smother your son with his affection if your son lets it happen.”

“It’s good to be smothered by someone who loves you.” Kapian said, looking back into the Lower Caverns where his wife was borrowing a fiddle to play a tune with Crivan. His eyes met hers, and he felt the smothering sensation of her love for him that her eyes expressed every time.

“Let’s go listen to the song.” H’mal said as Crivan and Serece began a love song. From the glitter in both their eyes, the Weyrleader smiled and wondered how many of their other guests had not been fooled by the distraction. Outside, dragons reappeared in the sky, bringing in more guests as the excitement was over.

As soon as their dragons were on the ground and their passengers away, the riders gathered in small groups to find out every detail of the flight they had just missed. If a few of them went off to a weyr for a more private conversation, no one really noticed. Zoeth, from her perch where she saw everything felt a rising contentment from the Weyr. There was nothing like a mating flight, even a green flight, to even out the Weyr and restore the balance. The sun would rise further, position itself above the Finger Rock, and the Red Star would stay where it was bracketed in the Dragon’s Eye stone. Their riders would know Thread was back, and the Weyr would rise to fight as it always did.

I go to hunt Zoeth told her rider as she took to wing and prepared to pick out the fattest herdbeast held in the Weyr. Maybe she would have two. She resolutely ignored her rider reminding her she’d just eaten two days ago, and that she was going to get fat. Zoeth knew she couldn’t get fat, she was just big boned.

J’shon felt like his heart was about to burst when he woke a few hours later, in bed with B’rrel’s arms wrapped around him, holding him tight against the brown rider’s bare chest. He let out a sigh as he remembered the morning’s flight. A quick checked showed that Liliath was asleep still, resting after the strenuous flight she’d made.

It really had been spectacular, and his cheeks blushed as he remembered the circle of riders around him, wanting him even as their dragons wanted her. The whole experience had been mind-boggling and part of him wanted to be ashamed at how shameless he had been, taunting and teasing the riders even as his dragon taunted their dragons. He could remember the feel of A’toly’s lips on his, and he was surprised at how the contact had thrilled him.

B’rrel stirred in his sleep, and his arms tightened, bringing J’shon more firmly against him, and the soft contact of skin on skin elicited another sigh from J’shon. That had been the most magnificent experience of his life, after Impressing Liliath of course. He tried to compare the experience with when Aliarth had flown Liliath, but he found they didn’t compare. There was something more to the experience with B’rrel than there had been with D’kov, and it took him a while of quiet contemplation, listening to B’rrel’s slow breathing before he figured out exactly what it was.

He loved B’rrel.

That had been the difference, and J’shon’s eyes filled with tears at the thought. He knew his parents loved each other, and he’d grown up seeing those occasional moments when Kapian and Serece would look at each other in unguarded moments. Their eyes would shine with respect, caring, and love. Guilt welled up in him for how his father would react, but he found he didn’t care, and this time he reached up with one of his arms to run a finger along B’rrel’s arm. B’rrel’s skin was soft, mostly from the constant soaking in oil, but the arm was strong as well. J’shon felt safe, safer than he’d ever imagined being held by them.

As his mind drifted from thought to thought, he felt parts of himself fall into place in a way that he hadn’t allowed himself to feel before. There was a reason why he’d wanted B’rrel in his life, and he’d let his shame and his hold-bred preconceptions block those feelings. No more, he vowed silently to himself. He was the rider of a beautiful, clever green dragon and he would take pride in that.

“Your hair smells so good.” B’rrel said sleepily, taking a deep breath from where his nose was buried in J’shon’s short-cropped dark hair. That brought a silly giggle from J’shon and B’rrel tightened his arms so that it was almost difficult to breathe. “I’ve got you at last, green rider and you’re not going anywhere.”

“No, I’m not.” J’shon noted, and a feeling of excitement ran through him as B’rrel’s grip loosened enough so that J’shon could turn around, laying face to face with the brown rider who had claimed his heart. B’rrel looked slightly surprised as he saw the gentle smile on J’shon’s face. When J’shon leaned in for a kiss, the brown rider let out a moan that was filled both with pleasure and a startled disbelief. J’shon broke the kiss and smiled. “You were expecting me to run, weren’t you?”

“Yes.” B’rrel said with disbelief in his voice. J’shon giggled again and kissed those pale lips once again. “I’m not going anywhere, B’rrel.”

“Why not?” B’rrel asked softly, and then added quickly. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you, it’s just… you made it seem like you’d never want… you know.”

“Maybe I was wrong, or just denying what I really wanted.” J’shon said softly.

“What do you want?” B’rrel asked. “I think I’ve made it pretty clear what I want.”

“You have, and I want the same thing.” J’shon said gently, smiling even though the thought that he’d fought this made him a little sad. He was liking this, lying here in bed with B’rrel. “I want you, and me, together.”

“More than friends?” B’rrel asked cautiously, but there was hope in his face and a smile forming on his lips.

“Weyrmates.” J’shon said softly. “Real weyrmates, not just friends sharing a weyr?”

“You going to move your stuff in here?” B’rrel asked as his smile widened and J’shon nodded. He really did have better rugs for the stone floor, and his shelves and wardrobe would go well in that corner where B’rrel just had stuff piled up.

“We’ll have to do some cleaning to fit everything in, but yes.” J’shon said while B’rrel let out a whoop of victory. He leaned in and kissed J’shon with a passion that nearly matched that from the mating flight, and J’shon soon learned that while it was different than the mating flight, enjoying being in bed with B’rrel was just fine without the added impetus of Liliath rising to mate.

“Congratulations, B’rrel.” K’mer said several hours later as the new weyrmates walked into the Lower Caverns, J’shon all but hanging on B’rrel’s arm. J’shon’s brother gave B’rrel a slap on the back and a broad smile. “Welcome to the family.”

“What about me?” J’shon asked with a fake pout that his brother laughed at.

“It’s about time you came to your senses.” K’mer said before stalking off. The afternoon meal was ending and while not all their guests had left, all the Lord Holders were long gone, as was Kapian and Serece. There was a Lord Holder’s Conclave today at Telgar Hold, and they had left as soon as the Red Star and the sun had confirmed Thread really was going to fall in a few sevendays. The two riders normally sat at different tables, but this time J’shon made sure B’rrel sat with him at his wing’s table. For some reason the idea of being parted from B’rrel right now made him feel lonely.

We will never be lonely as long as we have each other. Liliath said in his head. Still, it is nice to have Ojeth to lean on like this. He is a good weyrmate, as is his rider.

Yes, they are. J’shon said as they sat down and B’rrel poured a bowl of the rich vegetable soup and passed him the last couple pieces of bread in a wicker basket.

“It’s about time.” S’flin said from where he sat across from them, with D’kov’s arm around his shoulder. The blue rider was smiling as fondly as S’flin was. “I was beginning to think you were going to let this foolish brown rider get away for that overly-pretty blue rider from Fort.”

“Not likely.” B’rrel said fiercely. “Ojeth could out fly that blue any day.”

“Well said.” One of the wing’s brown riders said from further down the table.

“So, is this a permanent pairing?” D’kov asked with a gleam in his eyes.

“I hope so.” J’shon said softly with a sideways look at B’rrel who just smiled.

“I have no intention of chasing any other green,” B’rrel said and the older couple smiled before giving nods of approval.

“Congratulations, son.” H’mal’s voice surprised both of them from behind and they turned to see the Weyrleader smiling at them. “To you as well, J’shon.”

“Thank you, father.” B’rrel said softly while J’shon blushed furiously.

“Your father left this for you when you finally poked your head out of your weyr.” H’mal said as he handed J’shon a scrap of hide with his father’s elegant writing evident on it. J’shon took it and the Weyrleader left, whistling a semi-popular love tune that he’d asked J’shon to play a few times in the past. With a deep breath, J’shon uncurled the hide and began to read what his father had written.

My son,

I know that you have had a busy day, and I hope that you are as happy right now as you deserve to be. B’rrel is a fine young man, and I hope the relationship between the two of you continues past this day. I know you consider me hidebound about certain matters in the Weyr, and it is high time I discuss with you what led to my distaste for the Weyr.

Know this, my son, that no matter what my feelings are, I am proud of you. You have proved yourself a good son, and a fine dragonrider. Weyrleader H’mal has nothing but good to say of you, and we have both shared our hopes that B’rrel and you will continue your relationship beyond this day. He is a good rider, and I would be proud to consider him a part of this family.

When next you both have a free day, please come to Whitestone Hold for a visit. Your mother and I miss you and K’mer, and appreciate any day we might spend in your company.

In high hopes,

Kapian

Holder of Whitestone

J’shon showed the letter to B’rrel while a smile grew on his face until it threatened to blind anyone looking at him. He put his hand in B’rrel’s and turned to eat the lunch before him. It was a good day, a very good day.