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    Mawgrim
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction that combine worlds created by the original content owner with names, places, characters, events, and incidents that are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, companies, events or locales are entirely coincidental.
Authors are responsible for properly crediting Original Content creator for their creative works.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Dragonriders of Pern series was created by Ann McCaffrey in 1967 and spans 24+ books published by Ballantine Books, Atheneum Books, Bantam Books, and Del Rey Books.  Any recognizable content in this story is from Ann McCaffrey, Todd McCaffrey, Gigi McCaffrey or their representatives or inheritors.  <br> Original content provided by author of this FanFiction story without monetary compensation. <br>
Canon typical violence

Gone Away, Gone Ahead - 4. Rioth's Flight

Rioth rises to mate.

D’gar got out of bed just after dawn. Sleep had eluded him for most of the night and it wasn’t just down to the time difference between Fort and Benden. In his mind, he’d been going over the many ways yesterday might have ended better. If he’d not asked all those questions, then H’rek would never have assumed there was an easy fix to his problems. Face it, the whole mess was his own fault. And snapping J’rud’s head off like that was unforgivable. He’d only been joking around, the way he always did and he deserved an apology. Good job Herebeth’s not a green, he thought, otherwise people would be accusing me of being proddy.

As he dressed, he wondered if H’rek had also been lying awake in nervous anticipation of Rioth’s rising, cursing the interfering rider who’d first promised to help and then seemingly abandoned him.

You should have brought him here, Herebeth commented. Then you could have been awake together.

Are you matchmaking, you big beast?

Only as much as you are for me.

Still, as was often the case, his dragon was right. If they’d spent the night together, then at least he could have made sure H’rek had some experience of gentle, thoughtful sex before he had to face a mating flight. Because there was no way anyone could be certain of the outcome. Although H’rek clearly wanted it to be him, the man he’d actually end up with depended on the dragons’ preference and a certain degree of luck. Once they were in the air, anything could happen and the riders had no choice but to go along with it.

He went out past Herebeth, comfortably curled on his couch, to check the weather. The day had dawned with low, grey cloud giving a diffuse quality to the light. As the sun rose, it would probably burn off; at least that was how such days tended to progress at Fort. Here, so much further north, his weather sense might be totally wrong.

The Bowl was deserted at this early hour. Herdbeasts in the feeding pens slumbered undisturbed. The lake’s surface was as smooth as a mirror. Up by the Star Stones, a blue dragon kept watch. His rider must be looking forward to the change of shift and a warming mug of klah.

Thinking about it, that sounded like a good idea.

When you’re ready, if you could drop me off by the dining hall.

Very well. Herebeth stood and gave himself a shake. Then I will go and sit on the heights for a while. And keep my eyes open for green dragons.

Just the one, mind.

As he’d expected, the dining hall was deserted so early in the day. There were some slightly dried up meat rolls on a tray by the night hearth, but a couple of those went down well enough with a mug of klah. Now he’d got down here he started to feel tired. It would be all too easy to stretch out on the bench in front of the hearth and fall asleep. If he was back home, at Fort, he might just do that, but he was here, in Benden and he didn’t want to give his own Weyr a bad name by letting anyone see him like that. Other early risers might assume he’d drunk so much the previous night he couldn’t make it back to his own weyr. No, that wouldn’t do at all.

‘Do you always get up this early?’

A familiar voice, one that he’d rather not have to face just yet. ‘No. Do you?’

‘I couldn’t sleep.’

‘Makes two of us, then.’ It was a short answer, but he didn’t feel like saying any more right now.

‘I spent most of the night wondering why you just left like that. I thought we were getting on. Was it something that other rider said? Was it me?’

He sighed. ‘It’s complicated. But it’s not your fault.’

There was a long pause during which H’rek scraped his boot against the floor.

D’gar felt the need to say something to fill the silence. ‘Look, I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have said some of those things.’ He was older and supposedly wiser, after all.

Rioth is flying down to the feeding ground. She is very bright.

Experienced green riders became so attuned to their dragon’s cycle and moods that they usually had sufficient warning to get themselves prepared. ‘How’s Rioth?’ he asked, wondering if that had been the case for H’rek.

H’rek’s eyes went vacant for a moment, then a look of panic came over him. ‘She’s going to rise. Right now!’

Evidently not, then. ’Stay calm. She’s only just got to the feeding ground.’

‘How do you know?’

Herebeth’s watching.’

So does that mean…?’

‘Yes.’

H’rek gave him a look that wrenched at his insides. He hoped fervently that he wasn’t condemning Herebeth to certain failure and H’rek to disappointment.

They ran out into the Bowl. Rioth had already killed a herdbeast and up on the rim, several more dragons had joined Herebeth; three blues, two more browns and even a bronze. The others were Benden hatched, large and powerful. All of them were waiting expectantly.

‘Don’t let her gorge. Blood only,’ he said to H’rek. ‘That way she’ll fly high and strong.’

‘I don’t know if I can do this.’ He looked frightened. ‘Last time I nearly lost her.’

D’gar grabbed his arms. ‘Look at me.’

H’rek did.

‘Take a deep breath. Focus. You’ll be all right.’ He wished he was as confident as he was trying to sound. ‘Make her blood her kill. I’ll take care of you.’

H’rek gave a little nod, then pulled away from him to watch Rioth.

D’gar realised that in this unfamiliar Weyr, he didn’t even know where to go. ‘Where's the flight cave?’ he asked a couple of riders who seemed to be purposefully heading somewhere.

‘Over there.’ One rider pointed toward a ground level weyr.

The other shaded his eyes and looked up as if assessing the competition. ‘Is that a blue up there who’s rolled in mud or something? Looks awfully small for a brown.’

D’gar didn’t think he was trying to be deliberately offensive but maybe that was just giving him the benefit of the doubt. Herebeth was built very differently to the modern dragons; stockier and more compact, with a shorter wingspan. ‘That’s my dragon, Herebeth. And yes, he is a brown.’

The other rider frowned. ‘Well, sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I shouldn’t think he’s got much chance against the competition today.’

D’gar glanced toward H’rek, hoping he’d not heard that, but H’rek was staring across to the feeding grounds. His gaze was blank as if he was already linked with his dragon and seeing through her eyes rather than his own. D’gar put a hand on his arm, carefully, so as not to startle him. ‘She’ll be fine, don’t worry. You’re doing well.’

H’rek nodded. ‘I know.’ Talking seemed to have become difficult for him.

Rioth lifted her head from the throat of the herdbeast, her muzzle dripping red. She rose onto her hind legs, bugling a challenge to her prospective suitors. Then, with a mighty leap, she was airborne, ascending rapidly before veering eastwards. The male dragons took off in pursuit.

D’gar felt the first spike of dragonlust as Herebeth’s consciousness impinged upon his own. For now, he held it off. While every rider expected to be consumed by their dragon’s emotional state at such times, he’d found that some - like himself - could remain aware and in control for longer than others.

‘Come on.’ He steered H’rek toward the cave. Other riders were already converging on its maw. As his own eyes conveyed that information to his mind, he was also seeing through Herebeth’s eyes. Rioth was climbing higher over the snowy peaks. Her potential mates were - so far - keeping pace, but so close together that there was danger of collision. The bronze had surged ahead and just behind him a blue and a brown vied for second place. Herebeth broke from the pack, sacrificing nearness for clean air above them all. It was a tactic that had won him a few mating flights in the past. It had also lost a few.

‘She’s leading them a merry dance so far,’ he commented, hoping H’rek could hear him through it all. ‘Now just concentrate and stay with her.’

The flight cave was dimly lit and almost empty; things could get violent sometimes and there was no point in having furniture that might get smashed. A curtain was pulled across the entrance, as a concession to privacy. Just beyond that was the inevitable bed, looking as if it had had some recent rough use. Not that anyone would care, when it came to needing it. The jar of oil beside the bed had been spilled at some point, making a slippery puddle on the floor. He guided H’rek around that and sat him down on the edge of the saggy mattress, then took his place in the semi-circle of riders. A couple of them he recognised as H’rek’s clutchmates; it might be one of their dragons that had flown Rioth before. The solitary bronze rider was much older than everyone else; a tall, powerfully built man. He stood slightly off to one side as if wishing to distance himself from the common crowd. But whatever their colour, dragons had needs and if they decided to fly you had to go along with it.

Now that there was nothing else to be done, D’gar stopped trying to hold back from linking fully with his dragon. The rising sun cast jagged shadows on the rocky ground far below. Rioth shone like a beacon, illumined by that same golden light. She was still well ahead of the pack, who were now several dragons' lengths below Herebeth. The thin, cold air swept past his wings as he strove to close the distance between himself and the green dragon.

The bronze was flying well, although even his superior strength didn’t guarantee that he’d be the one to catch her. Greens could out manoeuvre a bronze any day, if they wanted to. Still, at the moment, she was playing with her suitors, trying out their mettle to see who tired first. Although she wouldn’t be laying eggs like a gold, instinct led her to favour the most persistent and clever dragon.

H’rek raised his head and looked over the riders surrounding him. For a moment, his gaze locked with D’gar, as if looking for support or encouragement.

‘Stay with her,’ D’gar reminded him. ‘I’m right here.’

H’rek nodded briefly as if he’d heard, then shut his eyes.

Rioth glanced back, as if assessing them all, then abruptly changed her tactics. Rather than continuing to fly straight ahead, she went first left, then right, dipping and diving. Another manoeuvre had her changing direction so quickly that the bronze, too large and unwieldy for such a tight turn, lost his place to a brown. Rioth continued with her aerobatic games until the wings of two blues in the pack below fouled briefly. One of them turned aside, losing speed and altitude. Even if he tried his best, he’d never be able to make up that amount of lost ground.

In the cave far below, his rider shook his head sadly. D’gar barely registered him leaving, caught up as he was in the excitement of the flight.

Now the bronze was trying to get back past the brown, using his bulk and weight to shove the other dragon aside. All that happened was that both of them lost their place directly behind Rioth to another blue, who was more able to keep up with her wild sky dance. Herebeth was still above them all, waiting for his moment.

The blue made a sudden surge, trying to get a grip of Rioth’s tail. The blue’s rider was leaning over H’rek, attempting to get his shirt off. Rioth lashed her tail across the other dragon’s muzzle, just as H’rek pushed his rider forcefully away. The man staggered, slipped on the greasy patch of floor and fell. Everyone jumped back to avoid him.

Suddenly the bronze powered past his rivals, using all of his speed in a last-ditch attempt to catch up with the nimble green. His rider stepped forward, blocking everyone’s access to H’rek and almost daring anybody else to make a move against him. His hand reached out to caress H’rek’s face.

D’gar saw H’rek cringe back against the overbearing presence of the older man. Then in the next breath, Rioth spun right, too tightly for the bronze to follow, using a green’s natural agility to its best effect. It also placed her directly below Herebeth, with nothing between them. This was it! He took his chance, diving down rapidly. The bronze almost stalled at the unexpected appearance of a dragon he’d not even noticed up until that point. Two others had to swerve to avoid piling into him and they all fell away.

D’gar shoved the bronze rider aside, uncaring of seniority or protocol in that moment. He pushed H’rek down onto the bed. Herebeth caught Rioth’s wing joints, their tails entwining as she succumbed to her overwhelming desire. Dragonlust wiped away conscious thought as they joined, falling through the air in glorious consummation.

Mating flights were always difficult. No matter how much you wanted to stay in control, the urgency of the dragons’ union kept taking over. Their overwhelming need was to finish before they fell too close to the ground for safety. Your mind denied the reality of a bed placed on solid ground and of a human body under your own. D’gar tried to keep the rational part of his brain working as he fought against the urge to simply do what Herebeth was doing to Rioth as fast as possible. H’rek seemed far less aware of what was happening to him, his mind fully locked with Rioth’s. His eyes were wide open but it was clear that he wasn’t seeing his actual surroundings.

D’gar grabbed his shoulders and shook him a little. ‘H’rek. Come on. Look at me.’

The eyes focused. An all too human panic showed there. ‘Can’t lose her,’ he managed to say.

‘You won’t. Trust me.’ Talking, he’d found, was one way to remain detached. Well, as detached as you could be under the circumstances. He drew on all his experience and memories of other flights, other times, to try and be as slow and careful as H’rek needed him to be. ‘Just breathe. Try to relax.’

H’rek held him tightly as bodies entwined, dragon and human united in a single-minded and overwhelming urge. The sensation of air rushing past his wings as Herebeth slowed their descent felt more real than the dimly lit weyr, the bed, naked skin and heat. ‘We’ve got you.’

Their glorious fall went on; a glide through the air, buoyed by strong wings. The emotional overspill rose to a fierce intensity as the dragons’ ecstasy reached a crescendo. You couldn’t escape that link, not at such a moment. D’gar gave up trying to hold back any longer. H’rek arched his back and moaned, echoing Rioth’s passion, sending both of them over the edge.

The other riders had long since left. D’gar became aware that he was lying in a sweaty tangle with H’rek. His memory of the flight was already becoming blurred, like a dream that eludes recollection after you wake. Human thoughts and fears surged back. He wished that he’d not been so stupid the night before and had taken H’rek back to his weyr. Had time to do things properly before all this. But you didn’t, said the critical voice in his head. You’ve only got yourself to blame if it’s all gone wrong.
The dragons had landed safely on a rocky outcrop and were happily nuzzling each other, so all was well with them, at least. They’d rest a while before the long flight back to the weyr.

He turned slightly, propping himself up on one arm. ‘Are you all right?’

H’rek nodded. He still seemed slightly dazed.

D’gar was uncertain what he should do next. Just getting dressed and leaving would be thoughtless, although that was exactly what some riders did, especially those whose usual preference outside a mating flight was for women. On the other hand, he had no wish to force his company on someone who might want to be left alone at this point.

‘Do you… want me to go?’ he asked hesitantly.

H’rek shook his head. ‘No,’ he said quietly. ‘Hold me.’

They lay like that for what seemed like a very long time, arms wrapped around each other. D’gar could feel the heat of H’rek’s body, hear his breathing. All he wanted to do was to hug, stroke, kiss. It was only dragonlust, he knew and when it had passed, he didn’t want to be disgusted with himself for having taken advantage of the lad in this state. If the two of them were weyrmates, now would be the time for having good sex; while the dragon roused emotions were still strong, but you had regained enough awareness to know what you were doing. Plus, no one expected any pair to be fit for ordinary duties for several hours after a flight, so you might as well enjoy the time together.

‘Aren’t we supposed to… you know?’ H’rek asked. ‘Have another round.’

‘It happens,’ D’gar said, trying to sound non-committal. ‘If that’s what folk want to do.’

‘I want to. So do you.’

True enough. That was a side effect of mating flights he could do without right now; they always reduced the amount of time you needed to recover. ‘It’s just dragonlust.’

‘Does that matter?’

‘it does to me. It will to you too in a couple of hours.’ Talking was good. It diverted the attention from thinking about other things you’d rather be doing.

He sighed. ‘Maybe you’re right.’ Then after a short pause, ‘So what happened on your first mating flight?’

‘Well, for a good Turn, nothing much. Herebeth didn’t win one straight away. But the first time he did, he caught Zemianth. S’brin - her rider – was already my weyrmate by then. We’d been attracted to each other before we even Impressed. Then, once we had young dragons, we weren’t allowed to do anything sexual until they were grown enough for it not to affect them.’ When the Weyrlingmaster had finally granted them permission they’d made up for lost time every way they could think of. ‘Anyway, by the time of that flight, we’d both had plenty of experience.’

H’rek said nothing for a few moments, obviously taking in this new information. ’So that explains why you were so reluctant to get involved with me. Why didn’t S’brin transfer to Benden as well?’

‘Because he’s dead.’

‘Oh.’

A few Turns, or even months into the Pass, he’d become used to that kind of answer. You’d sympathise, then move on without even feeling awkward about it.

‘What happened to him?’ H’rek asked after a while.

Threadfall.’

‘Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.’

‘You weren’t to know. Anyway, in our line of work, it’s a fact of life. No matter how good you think you are, or how quick your dragon is, all it takes is one bad Fall and you’re history.’

H’rek seemed to be mulling over that for a while. ‘So, what you’re saying is that either of us might not be here after tomorrow’s Fall.’

‘Exactly.’ He had to keep reminding himself that it was just the beginning of the Pass in this new time. It wasn’t like when he’d been growing up; seeing the casualties come in after every Fall, hearing the keen of dragons when one of their own went between. They had no idea, yet, how bad it could be.

‘In that case, shouldn’t we take any opportunities we can?’ H’rek smiled slowly and gazed into his eyes. ‘I mean, it would be a shame if I died without having had sex I can actually remember, don’t you think?’

Putting it like that, he had a point. ‘You’re too sharding persistent, you know that?’

Then H’rek pulled him closer for a kiss and he stopped thinking for quite some time.

 

©1967-2022 Ann McCaffrey, Todd McCaffrey, Gigi McCaffrey; All Rights Reserved; Copyright © 2020 Mawgrim; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction that combine worlds created by the original content owner with names, places, characters, events, and incidents that are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, companies, events or locales are entirely coincidental.
Authors are responsible for properly crediting Original Content creator for their creative works.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Dragonriders of Pern series was created by Ann McCaffrey in 1967 and spans 24+ books published by Ballantine Books, Atheneum Books, Bantam Books, and Del Rey Books.  Any recognizable content in this story is from Ann McCaffrey, Todd McCaffrey, Gigi McCaffrey or their representatives or inheritors.  <br> Original content provided by author of this FanFiction story without monetary compensation. <br>

Story Discussion Topic

It is with great sadness I must announce the death of Mawgrim, Promising Author on GA. He had been in declining health for some time and passed away on Christmas Day. Mawgrim worked for decades as a cinema projectionist before his retirement and was able to use this breadth of knowledge to his stories set in cinemas. He also gave us stories with his take on the World of Pern with its dragon riders. He will be greatly missed and our condolences go out to his friends, family, and his husband.
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On 2/7/2022 at 11:18 PM, raven1 said:

H'rek was persistent and got what they both wanted.  He seems to be realistic and uses logic to sway D'gar.  He reminds me of J'rud a bit. I hope that D'gar helps H'rek become better skilled as a dragon rider.  Many of the Benden riders are not experienced and that is probably why so many from the past were transferred to Benden.

My thoughts too.

 

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