The room was dim and silent, its cavernous space empty but for one form that moved in the middle of the floor. She was dark, as the room was dark, her black hair pinned back in braids to keep the length of it from her face. White flashes of skin were lit by glows placed at the edges of the space, but in the center was a perennial shadow which the woman danced in and out of. Though the air in the room was cool with winter's lingering chill, sweat slicked her bare skin, of which there was a fair amount. Her movements kept her more than warm enough, and she didn't want to be hampered by clothes.

The woman's routine was one that she had begun during Weyrling training, and was determined to continue for as long as she was able to make time for it. There was some measure of satisfaction to be gained from forcing yourself to move until desperately wanted to stop, and then moving beyond that. It wasn't fun, and it wasn't enjoyable, but the challenge of it kept her coming back no matter how intensely she despised the exercise by the time she was done. Ciara was a woman proud enough to disdain failure, and perverse enough to put herself through hell simply because she was reluctant to do so.

As though on some invisible signal, she stopped quite suddenly at the end of a fluid roll, kneeling on the smooth stone floor before rising to her feet. Her breath was coming in deep pulls, but her dark blue eyes glinted with some inner fire. Ciara retrieved the towel that lay in a neat pile nearby and padded towards the bathing pools. She would happily kill for a hot bath. Fortunately such drastic measures weren't necessary, and she was soon lazily immersed in a steaming pool.

In another room, Raethilinath opened her eyes.

My, my. I trust you feel well, My Own?

Even newly-woken, the dragon was in a delicious mood. She uncurled slowly, revelling in every small movement of her powerful form as she slid from her couch. Hers was in for a treat today--they both were. It was an occasion that rarely presented itself, and Raethilinath was ever the opportunist. Opening her eyes, though there was nothing for her to see, Ciara turned herself inward to speak with her other half. Raeth was planning something.

Of course. What are you hiding?

Nothing at all, the dragon purred. I feel a touch lonely. I'll be inviting company over, so get yourself ready.

The command rolled over her in a suffocating fog, enfolding her like a blanket and stroking her like a lover. Ciara was no fool. As her life partner stalked from their weyr and bathed herself in the evening air, Ciara emerged from the heated pool and slid her naked body into the change of clothes that she had brought. She was out of the public room in a breath, already heading for her own. If she was to be expecting visitors, it would be a shame to keep them waiting.

Clouds seethed overhead as the young obsidian glided towards the herdbeast pens, choking out the sun's dying rays so it was black as pitch. In the twilight she glowed like a beacon, the only light to illuminate what would be a dark, cold evening. She fell on the first herdbeast like fury, enjoying the feel of flesh rending beneath her, and drank from it greedily. When it was dry she moved onto a second, sucking at its throat as it struggled, and moved onto a third before she finally straightened from her crouch, tossing the remains of her meal aside.

Come, my darlings. Don't keep me waiting--I am not a patient dragon. I am eager to begin.

Raethilinath reared and shrieked a challenge to the black sky, launching herself from the ground so she could circle and wait. The males would come, she knew, hungering for that which only she could give them. Most would be disappointed, but they would flock to her like flies for that slim chance of victory. She had power over them, and she revelled in it.

Back in their weyr, Ciara shut the door quietly behind her as she slipped inside. Her long hair dripped down her back, and her clothes clung to her still-damp form. Ciara ran her fingertips through the slick strands, walking over to one of the plush chairs in her front room so she could await the first of her visitors in comfort. Pleasantries would be quite pointless very soon, and the innocent sitting room would be serving quite a different purpose. It was large, though, and comfortable to anyone's standards. Yes, she planned to make good use of it, just as soon as her suitors would arrive.

---

time: Evening
weather: Stormy
next post: Friday, October 14th

notes:

Welcome, everyone, to Raethilinath's maiden Flight! Though there are several other Flights and Runs up already, I hope you will find the time to attend. Although my next post is scheduled for exactly one week from today, I can be flexible if anyone wants to enter but can't make that deadline. Ciara also is more than ready for some action, and along with Raeth, intends to make this the best damn Flight ever. Have fun!

The young man had never felt such a pull before. It was familiar, of course, but somehow this time was different. He felt it deep inside and it tugged at his loins. His dragon was going to Chase this night. There was no stopping Thereth once he felt that arousal and the pull of feminine mystique. The fact that the Platinum had yet to win any of the Flights he had entered before struck a nerve and only fueled his desire to impress and prove himself worthy. T'naen glanced around the corner to his dragon's portion of the weyr to see that he was already up and peering over the ledge. It seemed that he was immensely pleased with whoever had caught his fancy and he hoped, for Thereth's sake, that he wasn't disappointed again.

"Who is it?" T'naen asked, shrugging into his coat. It was still a bit chilly and he didn't know if he would be needing it outside or not.

The Platinum's voice rumbled deeply. It is Raethilinath. A Queen well worth my attention. Thereth spread his lime-yellow wings and leaped off the ledge. T'naen hadn't even had time to reply.

With a sigh, the Platinumrider found his boots and tugged them on. He'd been looking forward to a nice dinner followed by throwing himself on the bed for a long sleep. Can toss that idea off the ledge, he said, but even as he thought it, T'naen could not help looking forward to this Flight. Thereth radiated such positive, hopeful energy that it transmitted to his rider in full. The Obsidian was rising, was she? This would be interesting.

T'naen made his way toward the weyrs that housed the Queens and found them easily. They weren't too far from his own weyr. Due to his size, Thereth demanded a large weyr to suit his comforts and those who had listened to him were easily swayed. He knocked on the door as a formality before letting himself in. He had a feeling Ciara wasn't the answer the door yourself type when it came to something like this, but he didn't fault her for it.

The Platinumrider didn't see her when he entered so he walked around until found the sitting room. When he saw Raethilinath's rider he stopped and nearly came undone. Her dark hair and blazing blue eyes, to put it frankly, pinned him to the floor. Faranth. The fact that her hair was wet from a bath and her clothes clung to his skin only served to heighten the lust that was building inside him.

I chose well this time, did I not? came Thereth's please voice.

T'naen felt his throat close up and he almost nodded. Definitely better than his last Flight. That incident had left four, bleeding scratches on his face. They were only just healed, the scars barely visible against his skin.

Thereth circled the corral once before landing on a bawling young bull with a roar and snapping its neck brutally with one twist of his jaws. He wanted blood that was hot and energized, not that of a docile cow. It needed to be able to sustain him for what promised to be the Flight of his life. With one striped leg, he flicked it away with an air of disdain when he was finished and watched as the cattle scattered from the drained corpse. Burning violet eyes looked up at the Obsidian flying above him, knowing that she would be studying him.

It seems we are eager for the same thing, dear Raethilinath. A mind and body like your own should never be kept waiting, replied Thereth. A male of draconic perfection, the Platimun hoped that his punctuality would serve to bestow upon him some of her favor, if his form did not.

With a powerful leap, Thereth was back in the air, but he kept his distance from the black and violet Queen that he desired and lusted after. He didn't want to be caught on the ground when she began. It would serve to put him behind and that was the last thing the Platinum wanted. Spiraling in a lazy circle, he waited impatiently for the Chase and the other males to arrive. Oh, they would come. He had no doubt about that, but this time...this time would different.

T'naen finally found his voice, though it cracked slightly and he had to clear his throat to introduce himself. "T'naen, of Platinum Thereth," he said, meeting Ciara's gaze with a confidence he hadn't had before meeting her. He wasn't a flowery speaker and had no gift with words so he did not attempt to entice her with such. "I hope you don't think me too forward, but you have caught me unawares. You are...more than I expected, more than I expected myself to feel."

There were two riders in the record room that night, both of them finished with their duties and enjoying the quiet restfulness that came with the place. The basket of glows that they had each individually set up were casting a warm glow on this rather chilly evening. Sure, there was a storm raging outside, but they were both warm and safe down here in the records room. Both of them surrounded by neat stacks of scrolls, for both of them had begun reading several candlemarks ago and both were good readers. But one was reading about the tactical movements used in fighting thread, and the other was reading about the history of Libertas and Amaris Weyrs. Two completely different topics of discussion, but both were fully involved with their respective subjects. Sure, it was evening, but that just meant it was the perfect time. Both of the riders had to be up in the morning bright and early, rain or shine, so they were spending what little time they had doing some light reading. One of the riders was Za’cria of Platinum Twayamoth, and the other was K’raer of Bronze Saruganth. Two incredibly different people, but both enjoying the same past time while their dragons slept.

Of course, the way the dragons slept was very different. Saruganth slept as curled up as he could, although that was difficult. He was by far one of the most muscular bronze, and curling up wasn’t really an option. But he had tried, cause shards.... why not? Not like he shared his ledge. Not like he was even laying on his ledge right at that moment. He’d have scared any other dragon off anyway. It was his ledge, and it barely fit him. Which was a total exaggeration. It fit him perfectly well with lots of room to spare. That’s why it was down low, with all of the other bronzes, but that wasn’t good enough for Saruganth, so in his mind, he had it be smaller than it really was. Yes, that was much better that way. The other dragon who wasn’t quite asleep yet, but who was getting there, was Twayamoth. He slept much more comfortably than Saruganth, to be sure, although much less conventionally. One wing out, the other scrunched up against him, leaning against a wall, with all four legs in the air. Sure, it wasn’t a dignified position, but it let him see the stars. Most nights, of course. Tonight, as he was drifting off, he counted lightning strikes instead. It wasn’t as comforting, but it was something, and he needed to be up bright and early for training. Oh, he loved training with his. They always rose bright and early, and tomorrow would be no different.

Except, of course, tomorrow would be very different indeed. Not for both of them, of course, or possibly not even for one of them, but it certainly wasn’t going to be a very typical night. Not for Saruganth. Not for Za’cria. Not for K’raer. Not for Twayamoth. For one, the storm. But that was just a storm. The riders were safe inside, where even the sound of the rain and wind was muffled, and the dragons were secure inside in their stone couches. A storm was not really a problem normally. But there was a second abnormality tonight. Raethilinath was rising, and both of the dragon boys were going to be drawn by her call. Her song was loud; a virgin queen rising for the first time. What man, of any species, in his prime of youth, could ignore such a summon? Not these two boys. As the storm began to really brew, the lightning picking up, and the wing beginning to howl, they both raised their heads. Down in the record room, both riders also raised their heads. They did not see each other, for they were in different parts of the room, but they both knew what was going on. K’raer, of course, had been in many flights before, and the smile that grew on his face as the bond with his dragon began to tingle with lust was much less than savory. It was a nasty grin, and it wasn’t erased as he began to stand.

Za’cria, however, had been in no flights at all. Twayamoth was much younger than Saruganth, and this was the first time he had felt his blood stir in such a way. But oh, how it did. Rolling over, the platinum turned to look out of the cavern, sleepy dark blue eyes beginning to spark with a vibrant, lusty violet. Zac wasn’t confused, although he had never experienced anything like this before. They had been told, time and time again, however, what to look for, what to expect, what it would feel like. It didn’t, but it was close enough that Za’cria could figure it out. It had been a while... but Zac recognized lust when it began to boil in his belly. Tway. Do you know what’s happening? Raethilinath is rising, Mine. Can you feel it? It burns so wonderfully. I want it, Mine. I want her.Yes. I can. You’re chasing, then? Silly question. Go, Tway. I’m not going to stop you. He would have liked to, but it had been three turns. Three turns since his wife had died. Three turns since he’d felt anything remotely like this. He should be comfortable with this, he should be over it. Closing his eyes and placing the scroll he had been reading on his lap, he could tell that he wasn’t. But there wasn’t any stopping Twayamoth when he got it into his head to do something. He’d been taught that you could control a dragon during a mating flight, but only to some degree. Clearly they had never encountered Twayamoth before. Smiling every so slightly to himself, Zac laid the scroll aside and stood up. So. It was time. Finally. Rubbing his jaw speculatively, Zac shrugged to himself. Well, it wasn’t like he could do anything about it now. He’d just have to deal with it.

Saruganth had stood up as well, spreading his massive wings as far as they would go and then snapping them shut. He was ready. He hadn’t been sleeping very soundly at all, and the very moment he felt the tingle, he had awoken. K’raer. Oh, I know. Who is it this time? Raethilinath. Oooh. And she has such a del-ectable rider. So pretty and succulent. Yes. Laughing softly to himself, K’raer dumped the scroll he had been reading onto his chair and stood up, stretching as he did so. Hit her hard, Saruganth. Both dragons were getting up now, and both riders were heading for the door. They all knew where they needed to be. All of them were being pulled toward the rising queen and her rider, but when K’raer reached the door, Za’cria was just behind him. The bronzerider paused and turned slightly, smirking at the platinum weyrling. “First timer, eh? Goodluck.” The not-so friendly, one way, exchange complete, K’raer bowed and vanished through the doorway, still leering. Za’cria’s face, which had been rather impassive before K’raer had spoken, was now contorted into a scowl.

Still, he followed after a moment, the passion of the flight beginning to build in him. He caught glimpses of K’raer as the bronzerider headed toward Ciara’s weyr and Zac followed. By the time both of them entered the weyr, they were both hazy and incoherent, their dragons having dropped off of their respective ledges. They had noticed each other, just as their rider’s had, before they had ever reached Raethilinath. Snarling, Sarugath snapped at his younger platinum cousin, wings beating slower than Twayamoth’s. Veering away, Tway hissed back and dropped below Saruganth, landing before him, and lashing out at a nearby herdbeast, drawing it up and blooding it as well, eager for the energy it would provide. He had not eaten, and would need it to keep up with the rising queen. An eager younging, Twayamoth was vibrating with excitement, wings spread and shivering as he followed all of Raethilinath’s movements. I am here, Raethilinath! I will not leave you waiting! Saruganth, however, landed with an earth shattering thump, and closed his wings. He was also following Raethilinath’s movements, but he was still, eyes trained on her. The only part of his body that moved was his tail, which flicked back and forth carefully. He didn’t speak, but thought. He had been in more than one flight before. While he had eaten earlier in the day, he also knew that he should reserve energy. At the very least, K’raer knew, so Saruganth knew.

The bronze didn’t bother speaking. It was quite clear that he was present. Already, he was the largest dragon there. K’raer didn’t bother speaking either. He sauntered into Ciara’s room and leaned against a wall, watching Ciara with the same intense stare that his dragon was employing. Zac was not far behind, jaw clenched as he tried to hold off the raging lust which was swamping his entire body. Stopping just inside the door, he bowed slightly to Ciara. “Good evening ma’am.” Forever polite. That was Zac. Still straining against it, he positioned himself away from K’raer and Ciara, although he was watching her as well, his breathing heavier than he would have liked. He wouldn’t be able to hold himself back much longer. K’raer wasn’t even trying, although his breathing was just as heavy. Ooh, how pretty Ciara looked. It might have been DragonEmotion talking, but that didn’t matter. Who was he to deny his dragon pleasure? Especially if he got some entertainment out of it as well. This was going to be an intense flight, and that meant an interesting one. If there was one thing K’raer loved, it was something interesting.

D'nor of Platinum Rilaith


Mine. the platinum's deep rumble had his dark-haired rider glancing toward the couch the dragon had been lounging on an eyebrow raised.

What is it Ril? D'nor asked tilting his head slightly. The platinum rose to his feet a rumbling purr echoing deep in his throat as his eyes whirled violet.

The beautiful young Raethilinath rises! he answered as streaks of lust flashed through his rider's veins. A smirk flickered across the dark haired man's lips.

Go on then and fly well. D'nor told the platinum. He received a wave of gratitude and determination before the platinum was streaking toward the herdbeast corrals. He marveled at the perfection that was the Obsidian he was chasing for a moment before making his own kills. He completely ignored the younger platinums and bronze that was there as he felled two herdbeasts and drained them. The younger males didn't deserve his time or attention. Raethilinath had it completely for the moment. She was a queen after all.

Beautiful Raethilinath I would never dream of keeping on such as yourself waiting. he spoke before leaping into the air with a powerful push of his hindquarters. He hovered keeping a respectful distance. He didn't want to be left behind and had no intentions of keeping the beautiful dark goddess he chased waiting.

Meanwhile D'nor made his way to the Queen's weyrs. He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of loose trousers to ward off the chill in the night air. It was storming outside and it brought back memories of another Queen's flight. Hopefully this one wouldn't turn out the same. He knocked on the door as more of a formality and way to alert the Queenrider that she had a visitor before he went in.

The sight that met his eyes drove the lust he was already feeling from Rilaith to a new level. The Obsidian rider was still wet from a bath making her clothes cling to her and the man felt a quickening in his loins. This was going to be one hell of a Flight that was for sure. Offering Ciara a smile he took a couple steps closer to her.

"D'nor of Platinum Rilaith at your service." He introduced himself with a sweeping bow.

---

Thath was edgy. He hadn't been this edgy since Sa'ren's last drinking episode which had been over two weeks ago. The bronzerider was making a steady if slow comeback from being kidnapped. He still had nightmares on occasion but they'd been coming less over the past week. Thath shook his head snorting softly. That wasn't what had the bronze on edge he knew that much. Whirling eyes glanced at the sky which was heralding an oncoming storm. Then a flash of lightning illuminated a dark form and the bronze knew what was making him so edgy. A dark beauty was rising. He stretched languidly much like a cat before his mind brushed his riders.

Sa'renMine, you might want to get a shirt on you'll need it. the bronze spoke. His dark haired rider lifted his head frowning at the bronze who was standing on the weyrledge.

What do you mean Thath?

Just get a sharding shirt on you wherry. the bronze replied spreading his wings. Sa'ren frowned and started to make a smart reply when the first wave of lust hit him nearly making him stagger. Cursing softly the bronzerider grumbled as he shoved on a shirt to ward off the chill. Thath simply chuckled as he launched himself into the air. The bronze flew to the feeding pens landing on a squalling cow before breaking its neck and draining it. He noticed his brother there but for the moment decided not to comment. He was sure his twin wouldn't miss his presence but there was no use antagonizing the other this early at least.

Lovely Raethillnath it will be a pleasure chasing you and I would never dream of keeping one as enticing as yourself waiting. the bronze rumbled to the Obsidian. She may be young but he was sure that she wasn't going to make this easy. Her chasers were going to have to work for her he could tell already. The bronze drained a second herdbeast before launching himself into the air to hover near the glowing Obsidian goddess.

Sa'ren meanwhile was grouching as he left his weyr. He called Thath every name under the sun. It was cold and rainy why the shards did the dragoness have to Rise now of all times?! Couldn't she have waited? He took a breath to calm himself. Dragons Rose when they Rose and there was no changing that. He let his feet carry him and it wasn't too long before he had reached a door. He wasn't too familiar with the queenriders of the weyr but he knew that he was at the weyr of one. Frowning he gave a sharp knock on the door before going in. The sight that met his eyes nearly took his breath away.

A fair skinned young woman stood there her dark hair still glistening from a recent shower evident from the way her clothes clung to her form. Well then perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all. This queenrider was a definite one eighty in personality from the rubyrider he'd shared his kidnapping with. A smirk danced on his lips as he stepped forward. "Sa'ren of Bronze Thath." came the simple introduction. His eyes and tone held the interest he was feeling that didn't just come from FlightLust. Thanks to Thath he knew she was an Obsidianrider. Perhaps she was someone who could keep up with him.

They'd have to see.

Az'is was snarly...

Eurilith, even more so...

The pair had been at odds ever since the dual black flights some time back, snapping at each other in a way even they had rarely done before, their words caustic and sharp as the chimeric prowled the skies and Az'is stalked the weyr, occasionally taking up a sweet young thing and dominating them as best he could, leaving quite a few shivering boys in his wake.

Today wasn't any different, as Az'is had already had his playtime before lunch, and Eurilith had been lounging around the weyr, staring moodily outside at the gathering stormclouds on the horizon, occasionally raking his claws over the stone and creating a loud screeching that was quite irritating his rider, until finally, he snapped.

"What the shards, Eurilith? Could you quit that? You lost a Flight, nobody died!" He snarled from where he was seated, looking over his shoulder at the Platinum-Black dragon, who merely flicked his tail at him, continuing to stare outside. "Are you even listening to me?" Of course not. There are far more interesting things to focus my attention on. The dark dragon replied sarcastically, causing Az'is' eyes to narrow further, mouth opening to ask a question even as Eurilith surged to his feet and a wave of lust swamped him, stemming from his bond with the dragon, but also outside the weyr with a strength indicative of a higher female. "Oh, shards... Who?" He grunted the question, swaying to stand on his feet, knowing he couldn't even begin to hope that his bondmate wouldn't Chase.

Raethilinath... This is our chance... And we are going to take it. Eurilith was already stalking to the entrance of the weyr, fixated and focused as he looked downwards, spotting the flying Maiden Obsidian, itching to take off after her. The great male turned his head only enough to lift the lips on the right side of his face in a snarl at his rider, large eye reflecting Az'is' face. Don't you dare screw this up. He warned threateningly before leaping forward, the conversation clearly over from his point of view.

Az'is snarled to himself even as his dragon left, one hand coming up to tug at his hair while he felt Eurilith spiral away and downwards, flying over the herdbeast pens with the other males before stooping and, without even landing, snatched up a beast and pulled it into the air, enjoying its struggles with a blood-lusted fury. The creature bellowed and cried in the large dragon's grip, but he never even faltered while flying, until he landed with a heavy thud near to the waiting Obsidian, refusing to be so far away even while blooding. Still struggling, it was a matter of a moment to tug the beast's head back and sink his fangs almost delicately into its throat, and it was alive for a long time as he sucked at its blood, enjoying the feeling of life draining out right between his jaws. Quickly it was flung away, however, once all of its blood was gone, and the Chimeric soon focused his intent on where it should be.

Eurilith had learned from the last time, and he wasn't about to let this one get away from him, not when such a prize was on the line. Instead of snarling or striking out at the other males, at attacking them as his entire body cried out to do as he swept his ruby gaze over them, he simply turned and ignored them, refusing to allow himself to become caught up in the refuse. Instead he shivered out his wings, enjoying the twitching as the rising stormwinds caught their edges, lifting and lowering the sails with every gust, and snaked his tongue out to lick at the blood coating his maw and chest, eyes fixated on the glowing Obsidian beauty before him. She was stunning, a female of a rank he'd never deigned to Chase before, but her song called to him, enticed him, and he would do the same for her, and he. Would. Win.

Her shriek and cry of challenge, rising rampant from the ground before charging, like a thunderbolt, into the sky drew and answering rumble from his own maw and he was after her in seconds, wings thrusting hard against the ground as his haunches tensed and threw him into the air, a cloud of dust rising in his wake even as he sought to join her amongst the thunderheads. His rumble, not quite a growl but certainly not silence either, reverberated in his throat like thunder, building in intensity as he came into a hover before her, refusing to be swayed from his course by the males that were also so near to her, and to him. Raethilinath, beautiful gemstone Queen of darkened twilight skies... He purred for her, and only for her, stretching out his thoughts to caress over her own as he continued to watch, shifting occasionally so that the last vestiges of gasping light could reflect and refract off his hide, the hidden golden glow becoming slightly pronounced, like distant lightning. I am Eurilith... I am... so... very eager... Dark sensuality was what he exuded as he spoke to her, refusing to block off any of his thoughts or feelings this time around.

---

Half clothed, as was usual for him, Az'is didn't even bother pulling on a shirt as he stared balefully after his dragon before exiting his weyr. He had made the decision already to go to the new weyr, and though he had no real wish for a Flight, especially with a female, he had to admit that becoming the Junior Weyrleader the very first turn the place was open would establish both of their names for a good time to come. That thought curved his lips into a delicious, dark smile, and he began to become, if not excited, as least expectant as he stalked down the hallways.

It wasn't far from his rooms to those of Ciara, and few men had yet gathered there... Flickers of bronze and platinum indicated the ranks of the men, but Az'is allowed his gaze to only be scornful as he swept into the room, at least, before he chose to simply ignore them. Eurilith blamed him for paying far too much attention to riders other than that of the one he had Chased for his failure in the last Flights, and a whip-crack thought from the Chimeric made it clear he wasn't to do the same this time, and so he focused all his attention on the woman before him who was, admittedly, quite lovely.

Wet flesh, beaded with water, and hair indicated she'd just come from the shower, and Az'is breathed deeply of her, catching a fresh, clean scent that he absolutely wanted to ruin... Unmarked flesh begged for his lips and his teeth, and though woman didn't normally do it for him lately, with Flight Lust running through his veins, he could ignore that much. A vibrating noise echoed in his throat as he swept forward, past the other riders in the room, and bowed slightly to the Obsidianrider, barely lowering his head beneath her own in a gesture of respect, though his hooded eyes always remained focused on her, their deep turquoise depths shimmering with a strange light as his lips drew up to one side, a flash of white tooth allowed to show through.

"Lady", he purred in imitation of his dragon, shuddering in delight at the feelings running through his very bones. "You drew us all here, do with us what you will..."

Raethilinath did not need to wait very long before the first males braved the driving rain to seek her out. She cut through the downpour on glistening wings, watching for movement in the darkness, and she was rewarded. Broad wings, the wings of male dragons, were gliding towards the herdbeast pens. Bronze and platinum, the kings of the Weyr, heeded her call, bowing to her will. For tonight, she was mistress, the only queen any needed follow.

The first of them came, pale bronzed platinum hide slicked and gleaming dully in the low light. Raethilinath let her eyes rove his powerful form as he landed, as he killed. Her swiftest suitor, so eager, so eloquent. And so proud. Yes, she did like a healthy dose of pride in her males. So impatient, she laughed from above him. Oh, he was lovely, but he would be the first of many. She would have it no other way. So the jewel-toned female circled, dipping her wings enticingly, inviting the platinum to join her in the air, and sending a message to those who even now began to crowd the skies. I am waiting—come and take what you desire.

And so they did. The female eyed two of the males as they entered the corrals together, snapping and snarling in challenge. Another platinum, younger than the first, but even more eager. She saw him shiver and knew it had nothing to do with the rain. Such energy he had, this green, untested male still lanky from growth. It contrasted marvellously with the hulking bronze who watched her from a different part of the pen. She could feel his eyes sliding over her, just as hers lingered on his muscular body. Slight young drake and brooding bronze; each could hardly be more different from the other, but Raethilinath craved both, passion and power. She was the impatient one now, her short tether straining to rend apart, but she must wait, she must. To rush, although so tempting, would be disastrous.

Platinum and bronze, wings broad and narrow swept through the black sky as thundercracks split the air. Another silvery male arrived, and on his tail a light-coloured bronze illuminated by the storm. More strong, full-grown males—she admired them as she waited, her wings snapping and shedding slices of water with each stroke. They gathered and they waited, waited for her to lead them away, to begin the Chase. It was her urge to fly now that fought against the insistent need to wait for more. More suitors, more toys, more perfection and promise. Was five enough? Was anything enough? She wanted everything, and there could be no waiting any more. The roiling clouds blazed white, and Raethilinath let out a shriek.

I will wait no longer. Follow! Climb with me, and we shall see who has the nerve to take what I offer!

Even as the last male thrust himself up from the drenched ground, the mud and blood running down his hide still failing to hide his own unique shimmer, the obsidian wheeled and pulled herself upwards against the pounding of the rain. The sensual slide of his words made her shiver as if more than just his mind had touched her, but now that she had begun the chase Raethilinath would not stop until he wings flagged from weariness. It did not matter if her suitors were bronze or platinum, or something altogether different and new. Any who sought to touch her would need to win that right, and she would see that the test was suitable.

Higher, higher she climbed, for now heedless of the drakes who flew and perhaps fought behind her. She only desired to go as high as she could, each wing beat carrying her closer to the black underbelly of the storm that groaned through the night. Her first test was one of speed, for she was no lumbering gold, and would lose her males if they weren't quick. To touch her hide, she decided, they would need to prove themselves. She wanted to have fun with them, but Raethilinath wanted only the best. Come! she said, and plunged into the boiling black of the clouds. It was death that she courted just as much as any male, risk driving her alongside the lust. Raethilinath felt lightning race along her wingtips and charge the air around her with tension. At any moment it might become too much to bear, the sky could break apart and she would fall from the sky before her flight truly began. So it was for any who followed her, a true test of devotion.

The dragon laughed and flew on.

The man who wandered his way into Ciara's sitting room first was a handsome creature. He was tall, long and muscular, much like the dragon who braved the rage of the storm outside so that he could be here. Alert, confident. And when he found her and looked, the smirk on her face only widened. She preferred women, but with Raethilinath's lusts filling her from the inside out, she didn't feel inclined to be picky. Besides, this one looked to be a promising start.

"What a compliment," she said, watching him from the comfort of her seat. She wouldn't rise quite yet—Ciara was content to make him wait. Soon, though, she'd treat herself to the buffet that awaited her attention. She just wanted the menu to be a bit broader.

She didn't have long to wait. The man who sauntered in next was far from disappointing, tall and tan with eyes as blue and bold as her own. Unlike the platinumrider, he said nothing, but regarded her with a stare that left no room for meekness. He was followed almost immediately by a third man, although he was more of a boy, really, compared to the other two. Young, as was his dragon, she could tell, but not a child. No, he was far from that, and finally Ciara slid from her seat so that she was standing when he bowed to greet her. How very proper he was, she mused—and wondered how long it would take to strip all that control away.

She went to him first, although he had not been the first to arrive. She wanted him to have a taste of her so that he could carry it with him for the rest of the flight, even when she was engaged with other lovers. Without bothering to reply to his greeting, Ciara approached the dark-haired weyrling with deliberate steps, the smile on her face an invitation. He may have been her younger, but he wasn't lacking in any sense of the word. Ciara could not easily reach his mouth from where she stood, and so she started with his throat instead, leaving a trail of teasing kisses along his jaw until she finally found what she sought, and skimming her fingertips over flesh wherever she could reach bare skin. If he was still hiding at the edge of the room when she was finished with him, Ciara would be very disappointed.

It had been a very long time since she had kissed a man, she recalled. Apparently her recollections hadn't done that particular activity any justice. But it would be a terrible crime for her to spend all of her time with one when she had so many choices around her. Ciara pushed away from the tall weyrling and turned to see another rider, then two enter her weyr. She grinned at the sweeping bow of the first and the curt introduction of the second, and then tugged T'naen over to her, effectively erasing the two from her line of sight. "Too slow," she murmured to the platinum rider, and guided his hand underneath the damp garment covering her torso. "You come late, you have to wait in line." The throaty chuckle that followed was quickly muffled against T'naen's skin.

This was taking too long—her guests would be bored, waiting for her to visit them with so many others for her to sample. Of course they could come to her, and Ciara would not object if they did, but she still felt an urge to be briefer, to make the men who had come to her tonight work for what she had to give. Ciara pulled away from T'naen with a small growl and moved to the bronzerider, who had said nothing to her. He made no effort to disguise his hunger, but neither did he offer. A coy smile played around her lips as she leaned up to nip at the man's mouth, but a mere breath later she was stepping away once more, her eyes daring him to follow, to take, even as she turned towards another.

Ciara had not missed D'nor's introduction, although she had engaged herself almost immediately after. But she was a Harper as well as a dragonrider, and Harpers were known for having good memories and attention to detail. "D'nor," she said, sauntering over to the older rider, "nice to meet you." She had managed to sound conversational, but truthfully it was an effort to think beyond the presence of so many bodies filling the space around her. Her blood throbbed under her skin as she pressed against D'nor, sliding her hands over the flesh of his torso as she reached up to lick at his neck. Ciara pushed away from the platinumrider and closed the space between her and the second bronzerider. Once again she taunted only, moving close to trail her hands down his lower stomach before tugging herself away again.

There was, she saw, another man in the room who had entered without her notice. Or perhaps she had noticed him, but the pounding in her belly and lower down had forced it from her mind. She noted the flash of a crooked grin and a purred invitation, and then she was nudging him backwards so that the rider was against a wall and she could focus her full attention on obliging his suggestion. Ciara easily slid one leg up to his hip, for the newcomer was no taller than she, and nipped playfully at his mouth while her hands busied themselves in his hair. She was intensely aware of the other men still in the room, and pulled away to glance around, suddenly indecisive. Any semblance of a plan she might have had was gone, replaced only be the sting of charging lightning and Raethilinath's writhing, unrelenting lust. That was fine, though. She had waited for almost two turns for this night; might as well enjoy it while it was here.

---

next post: Saturday, November 19th

notes:

I am very, very sorry about the unreasonably long delay in the flight. I have many excuses, none of them good enough, so suffice it to say that I will be putting this first on my list until the flight has concluded. We're back on track, so you can look forward to a final decision before the end of November!

Thereth rumbled in dark amusement as the glittering queen found him just as impatient as she. He was eager, very eager, but this Flight was different and he could feel it in his very bones. He continued to circle, keeping one eye on her and the other on the males who gathered after him. He wasn't surprised to see his pale, bronze twin among them. They had similar tastes after all and it pleased him a little, even if they were competition. It meant that Thath was getting his rider out of their weyrs for once. The man needed air. It wasn't healthy to stay inside and drink all of the time. He tilted his wings ever so slightly in his circle to tighten it. He growled as the other competitors arrived, threats to his power, but he would give them no chance to overtake him or overshadow him. Thereth was giving his all in this Flight. His determination rose like a mountain inside of him, solid and unbreakable.

Then, it had begun, and whirling faster than even he thought possible, the platinum Chasing. Straight up into the storm, Raethilinath flew and Thereth followed as if an invisible rope had wrapped itself around him and jerked him forward. The rain was cold and it ran in rivulets down his body. He didn't feel it however. His body was far to heated with lust and energy that the rain barely made an impression on him. His jaws gaped as he roared to the sky. Up and up he flew, followed his jewel-like queen into the mouth nature itself. All around him the clouds roiled and rumbled. Thunder echoed and threatened to deafen him as sheets of rain tried to obscure his vision. It didn't deter him in the slightest. Thereth blinked rapidly, fighting the swirling winds to keep from being knocked from the air.

A strange smell permeated the air. It was unusual because he didn't remember smelling it before, but it didn't smell good to his nostrils and it made them burn. If he had known what ozone was he would have been a tad bit more careful. Thereth heard the crackling before he felt it and only instinct preserved him from a horrible, charred death. Tucking his wings, the platinum rolled in the air several times. Lightning blazed through the clouds, lighting up the sky all around him. Fortunately, it's target was somewhere below them and it streaked earthward, slamming hard into the ground. With his heart racing twice as fast from adrenaline, Thereth right himself and resumed chasing, not bothering to look back. He had lost a bit of ground, but he would recover it, his great wings scooping out swaths of air as he pushed himself forward. He counted himself luck that he had not been burned to a crisp.

Inside the weyr, T'naen's heart was pumping from more than just the Flight going on in the storm outside. His stormy grey eyes followed Ciara as she rose gracefully from her chair, but he was not the first to garner her attention as she went from rider to rider. Though a spark of jealousy rushed through him, it didn't bother him too much. He would have his turn sooner or later. T'naen nearly jumped out of skin when the bolt of lightning almost struck Thereth and his heart hammered in his chest, just like his dragon's. That was close, Thereth. This storm is not friendly. Be careful. The platinum sent a rumbling response in return and when T'naen breathed again, he found it hitching in his throat instead of allowing him to relax.

Ciara had turned up into front of him. He felt her body press against his and his hand guided to the warm, wet skin beneath her clothing. He let it be led. T'naen wanted to feel her and used the palm of his free hand to press her lower back so she was flush against him. Her chuckle at the tardiness of the other riders sent shivers down his body and he flushed. He could feel Ciara's mouth pressed against his own skin and he ducked his head to do the same to her neck before she was pulling away, seeing to her other suitors. A low growl of possessiveness made its way past his clenched teeth. He wanted her back at his side. T'naen drifted after her, rather than staying in one place, as was his usual way of dealing with Flights. But keeping in one spot was not something he wanted to do at the moment. Even though his eyes narrowed as she played with them, he kept imagining her touching him instead.

T'naen had never known his body be so tightly wound, and he accredited it to the desire that Thereth felt. The platinum wanted to win this Flight like no other, to prove himself capable, to prove himself worthy enough. The thought of possibly seeing his own children hatching from Raethilinath's eggs was even more incentive. T'naen, on the other hand, could care less about eggs, but Ciara was another matter entirely. He could hear the storm growing and felt the ghost of a chill creep over his skin. When she looked around at them, suddenly indecisive, he stood straighter and pinned his blazing grey eyes on her face. His lips quirked up at one corner, an invitation. She could choose to accept it or not, but it was one that promised more than just a simple embrace if she did.

Nerves only provide me with energy, my Queen. It is when they are absent, and I am at ease, that I worry. Now they crackle like the lightning in the storm. I would take willingly, given the chance. His voice thick with promise, Thereth followed Raethilinath, the dark, Tyrian moon to his bright, silvered star throughout the storm as they rose. Her power alone pulled at him like a gravitational force and he the mere object stuck in orbit. He was pulled with every ounce of his body in acceptance. There was no will to fight against her allure, only the desire to sate her hunger with his own.

Rilaith watched as the obsidian hovered silently taking in the rest of the chasers. The younger males were more impatient much like the dark goddess they sought to please. This platinum however had learned to be patient in Flights. There was no mistaking he wanted the Obsidian. She was a glorious sight illuminated by the storm. Young and strong she would give them a wonderful chase. He snarled as a lighter colored bronze moved too close. He would not have his chance at winning this dark beauty ruined. Rain pelted his hide and he could sense the oncoming storm much like a previous flight from his rider’s memories. He snorted at his rider’s worry. This was going to be completely different then that flight. Rilaith was going to make sure of that. He was ready when Raethilinath took off and was after her a wingbeat later. He marveled at the beauty as she streaked through the air. She was going to make this interesting wasn’t she?

Powerful muscles pushed the male through the air. Suddenly he smelt something strange moments before hearing a crackling sort of sound. He wasted no time in tucking his wings close and rolling several times. The lightning hadn’t been near enough to strike him thankfully but he would be more careful of it now. He didn’t want to die before Raethilinath realized he was the one for her after all. Confident? Maybe. Reckless? Not so much. He straightened out still managing to keep up well enough though he’d lost a bit of ground. He could make it up though he hadn’t realized his prize would be so quick. She was quicker than the golds he’d chased but he wasn’t about to give up. The flight had only just begun and he was still fresh and eager to please her. I have the nerve to keep up with you, shining dark one. You only have to take what I offer. the platinum purred his wings slicing through the air. Rain pelted him and fell off his wings in waves as he followed the dark beauty through the storm.

D’nor watched as Ciara greeted her chasers fighting the envy that clawed at his ribs. He wanted nothing more than to keep her away from the others out of their reach. He focused on his breathing until she was sauntering over, speaking his name in a way that made his heart pound. He was about to answer her when she had reached him pressing against him. He sucked in a breath as he felt her hands sliding over his torso. Shards and shells he hated Flightlust sometimes. The flick of her tongue against his skin had him shivering and barely suppressing a moan. His hands had travelled to her as she was pressed against him and the reluctance was noticeable as she moved away to entertain herself with the other chasers.

A low growl escaped him but he managed to hold himself in check though it was just barely that he kept himself from grabbing her and pulling her to him. Shaking his head he shifted to move after her noticing the slightly indecisive expression on her face. The smirk on his lips was a clear invitation that said if she came to him he would be more than pleased. He wouldn’t stop her from going among the other chasers but he wouldn’t enjoy it. He couldn't stop the growl that escaped him at her display with the chimeric rider but he shoved all the lust down as much as he could.

---

Thath rumbled with dark amusement as he watched Raethilinath his eyes following every movement she made. She was goddess tonight and he one of her faithful worshipers. Lust made his ichor boil though he remained silent the only clue to his impatience the rapid twitching of his tail. He snarled back at the platinum that dared snarl at him before his attention returned to the dark beauty they were going to chase. This was one Flight he was so very determined to win. The fact that his own twin was competition didn’t faze the pale bronze.

If Raethilinath didn’t choose him he would prefer her choose Thereth. Maybe that was biased of him but it was fact. None of the other males were worthy of her but them. At her shriek he gave an answering roar as he took off after her. This was going to be a wonderful flight he could already tell. He would fight the storm for her to show her that he deserved to be by her side. And what female wouldn’t want him as a mate? He was strong and handsome. Inexperienced he may be but he was willing to learn.

I will follow you lovely gem, nerves are not an issue. he spoke wings straining to keep up. He hissed softly as Thereth avoided getting fried by lightning. His twin had better be careful they courted death in this storm just as they courted the obsidian leading them. Powerful wings pushed him through the air water sliding off his wings with each beat. He ignored the pelting rain and his own discomfort. All of his attention and efforts were focused into this flight.

He had to win and if he couldn’t he’d have to make sure Thereth did. How he would do that he didn’t know but he would. Shoving those thoughts aside he focused on keeping up. He suddenly smelled something weird and only a quick roll saved him from being fried. Shards that lightning had been close to hitting him. He needed to be careful flying in this storm. He was not giving up by any means but he was going to be cautious.

Just keep your head straight, Thath. Sa’ren thought shivering as Thath avoided a charred death by less than a foot. He couldn’t believe they were flying in this storm. Normally it would have been suicide or close to it but Flightlust did weird things to dragons and their humans. Honestly he thought it made some stupid but that was just opinion. He wouldn’t have called any in the room stupid though. A soft smirk rested on his lips as he watched Ciara. She was a dark beauty and this Flight was bringing that all out. He didn’t fight the jealousy that welled up but neither did he give into it.

He knew the game that she played. It was the game all riders of female dragons learned to play at least for their flights. They would taunt and wind up the riders to a fever pitch before their dragon chose and only one would get the release they sought. When she came up to him his smirk turned to a grin. A soft moan escaped him as he felt her hands against his skin. He started to reach for her only to find she was moving on and away from him. Growling at her display with the chimeric rider he stepped towards her though he hovered just out of reach. Two could play at taunting. He just hoped her dragon chose before all hell broke loose with the storm.

Za'cria's control had been honed over turns of training. He had lost a wife and a daughter, and he had not even reached his twentieth turn. He trained day in and day out, and was the friend and personal guard, even if he was no longer paid to be, of Lord Bellamie. Zac still picked flowers for his wife and talked to her, even though it made him sad, and he always, always worked as hard as he could to be the very best at whatever life presented him. He had gone from a scrawny skinny teenager to a muscular, masculine man. He was many things, and the thing he was the most, right now, was scared. It didn't show, but it was the truth. Such circumstances were not things he was used to, although he had experienced the flavor of them before. This was much more intense than anything previous, however. So he held himself still and rigid, to attention so that he wouldn't lose himself, wouldn't do something he would regret. That was what really terrified him, that he would hurt someone. Not just Ciara, although if he hurt her he would never forgive himself, but one of the others. True, they would probably do the same to him, but that gave him no right to do it to them.

His eyes were closed as well, and his head bowed slightly as he fought with Twayamoth for control. Normally the pair were inseparable and of the same mind about everything, but right now they fought for supremacy over the energy and power that they both contained. Zac knew he would lose, though. It wasn't exactly Twayamoth anymore who he fought with, but a dragon who's mind and soul were bound up in one singular goal, the body and love of the Obsidian Raethilinath. As the lust washed over him again and again, beating against the barriers in his mind, pounding relentlessly and breaking down his defenses bit by bit, Zac knew he would inevitably lose control. He just didn't want it to happen, and so he fought fruitlessly for the upper hand that would allow him to stay himself, to stay sane. Muscles tense, body shaking slight from the effort, he didn't realize that Ciara was in front of him until her lips were pressed against his skin. The unexpected touch made him jerk, and his arms automatically encircled her delicate waist, so tiny and so breakable.

For a brief moment he was not himself as he dropped his head lower to finally allow Ciara her goal, and as their lips touched his body began to tingle. The lust was taking over, whether he liked it or not, but still, he had not lost just yet. Now, though, he wanted to give in, or at least part of him wanted to give in. It was the part of him that way Twayamoth. He was watching Raethilinath with even more than his normal intensity, which was rather terrifying, for Twayamoth was a dragon who never half-assed anything. Now, though, his gaze was pinned on the Obsidian, and his wings were trembling with excitement and eagerness. She was waiting for more, and more were coming, but Twayamoth didn't even bother to look, because there was no point. He would win, or he would lose. What the others looked like, what the others were, didn't matter either way. He would just try his best, because that was all he could do, and he didn't mind either way. Despite this, he still did want to win. The platinum wanted to win so incredibly badly, and he knew, he instinctively knew, that he would need all of Zac's energy as well to do so. They would win together or not at all, and that was how they had always done things.

Another yank from Twayamoth as Raethilinath burst into the air was all it took to rip Zac away from his body. The small platinum spread his wings and launched himself into the air after the Obsidian, humming deeply. His voice, even if it was not his mental one, was still incredibly loud and he had no doubt that the others could hear him. Sure, he wasn't the largest. In fact, he was one of the smallest there, and he would never be as large as the others, but he didn't mind. He was still a platinum, still himself, still incredibly, and none of the others would ever be able to prove him different. His wings were spread and the air rushed around him as he followed Raethilinath. She had asked them all a question, but quite unusually for the platinum, he found very little that he could say that would make sense or mean enough. So his humming continued instead. Perhaps it was Zac's influence within him that made him so silent instead of boisterously loud like he usually was, or perhaps the presence of Raethilinath had made him tongue-tied. It didn't matter, because his body, striving ever upward, wings creaking with effort and snapping in the wind, showed his determination for him. Right now he didn't need words. He needed to show that he was worthy, to prove it to all the others, because he knew he didn't need to prove it to himself.

Zac, though, was struggling between the two bodies. That of his own and that of his dragon. Never had the phrase "two parts of the same soul" meant so much to him. It was strange that he was thinking of such things at a time like this, but as his hands slid across Ciara's body, that was what he considered. Along with, of course, how smooth her body was and how soft. He had missed that so much, having someone so soft pressed against him, kissing him. He didn't want to let her go, but to hold her too him forever and never ever let her get hurt. He saw Ciara's face, but when she pulled away from him, it wasn't her name he murmured softly under his breath. "Mirabel..." His wife, so long gone from his life. Ciara didn't look like her, didn't act like her, wasn't her in any way, but she was just as soft, so perfectly feminine. It made him think of her at such a time, and he felt... so horrible. But he couldn't help the situation, couldn't help that he craved Ciara so completely. As she left him, he growled under his breath, head tilting up and eyes now fixed completely on her. He was still straining against it, but he had now almost completely lost. Yes.... while before it wouldn't be much longer, now it was almost immanent. His hated demise and dive into something so much less than himself.

It took but a moment more and he had gone after Ciara, only to stop short, watching as she interacted with the others in the room. He couldn't go to her like he wanted because this was her night, although she had certainly succeeded in doing what she wanted. No longer tonight would he stand in a corner. He would be there when she beckoned, bow to her every whim and will. Just for another taste of her lips, so sweet and damp, just to feel her soft skin against his body. He felt light and yet also like his entire body was burning. It was the lust, and he, so consumed with it, couldn't tell what was going on. Things were spinning and every time he blinked, and he was blinking rapidly now, partially to hold back the tears of his betrayal of his wife's memory and partially because he was trying to make sense of what was going on in his own mind and body as well as the outside world, he was transported to the sky where Twayamoth had taken wing and was working just as hard as Zac was on the ground. Zac wanted to reach out and touch her, to stroke her hair and keep the others away because none of them felt like he did. It didn't matter if they knew or not, but while Zac didn't want to hurt the others, he certainly didn't want them anywhere near Ciara, and so his hands had once again balled themselves into fists as he stood waiting for her to once again come to him, as he was unable to move to her. This time, though, his fists were out of anger and his need to control himself and keep away from the others. He would get his goal, in the end. Someone soft to hold close against him. Just for a night. Just so he could remember.

Women were not exactly things to Kit. No more so than men or really anyone were things to him. People were not Kit's cup of tea. At least, normally they were not things he enjoyed, although they did amuse him somewhat. At least, they were something to pass the time. And that was all they were good for to Kit. He didn't understand them at all, and they confused him. But, over time, he had learned how to interact with them. He had to. He couldn't live alone his whole life, and he'd been slated for quite a position of power before he had impressed Saruganth all those turns ago. There was somethings he found incredibly confusing about other humans, though. One of those things was why anyone would act contrary to their normal personality and disobey their emotions or urges. It was completely beyond him, and in that way he felt himself much more connected to dragons who really had no such reservations. That made things such as this all the more enjoyable. All the people holding back, struggling against their desires and instincts were going to hurt themselves. It wasn't natural to do such a thing. It was natural to let yourself go, to show that you want to ravish the object of your desire, and in this case it was Ciara.

Kit smirked, hand sliding down his leg, the other sliding up his chest as he kept his gaze on the Obsidianrider. The smirk was wide and leering, with obvious intent behind it. Oh, there were others in the room, but they mattered very little. Kit didn't care to even look at them. He knew a few of them were new, but they didn't really figure in his life at the moment. Still, they were a little distracting, and he just couldn't understand any of them. He felt his own lust, was pleased to display it for all who wanted to look, wanted to challenge him, but he didn't really care about them. His goal was Ciara, and that was all. Really, though, they should just let themselves go. Kit already had and he was letting Saruganth take full control. He knew that in a moment he would no longer be himself, although whether that was a good thing or not was still to be seen. His eyes closed, but the leering smirk stayed in place. He could feel his body reacting, aching for Ciara. She was a very beautiful woman, or at least she seemed so to him and all the others at the moment. It really mattered little what she really looked like, although it did help that she had presented herself in an incredibly enticing way. Ooh. The bitch.

Then for a moment he felt his consciousness swallowed up and all that was left was the raw lust, burning bright in his entire body but concentrated in his groin. His eyes, when they opened, had an intensity which they had not had before, but there was also less to them. Less human, or what little of it Kit really had, and less restraint. Much less restraint. The hand that wasn't on his leg, which had tightened and begun to rub back and forth, tugging his pants slowly downward, balled itself into a fist and then relaxed before he came to. It wouldn't be long now, oh no. And so he paid attention to what Ciara was doing. The sharding woman had risen from her chair and was making her way painfully slowly around to the others. Well, it looked like just one man so far. The one who had come in just after him, although there were even more people now. They didn't matter. He kept telling himself that because it was that or rape Ciara, which might still be an option. Either way, it didn't bother him, really. This was a flight, and he couldn't be charged for his actions. It was the perfect excuse for such things.

He had little time to ponder about what was happening, however, for Saruganth wanted his power, and took it without asking. Kit, as his eyes slid shut again, was soaring on dragon wings, for the Obsidian queen had taken flight and the hulking bronze beast that was Saruganth had launched himself into the sky after her along with all of the others. However, while many of the other beasts chasing Raethilinath had their eyes and bodies trained for only her, Saruganth was looking around at the other males, the other competition. He was just as sure as his rider, just as calm and collected, but there was an evil hatred and delight bubbling inside of him that made him want to lash out and hurt the others, tear their wings from their sockets and see them crack like shells upon the ground, their ichor spilling into the muck and staining it green. That was where they all belonged, anyway. All of them but him. Even Raethilinath belonged down there, but instead she was up ahead, and he needed to catch her, to show her where her place was. Beneath him, as his inferior. He had to size up the others, though, for although he would win, would prove to them again that he was the very best, and that none of them deserved Raethilinath besides himself, although he deserved far more than her, that was for sure, he still needed to take care of the competition.

Saruganth was not a graceful dragon, but his size still made him formidable. He had stamina to outdo any dragon currently chasing Raethilinath, he was sure of it, and as the Obsidian called to them all, he let out a mighty roar of draconic laughter. We come. You need not be so impatient for our glory. By we, of course, Saruganth meant himself alone, although you had to pay close attention to his voice to hear it. It wasn't much, compared to what some of the other dragons were spouting, but that mattered very little to him. Words in such circumstances were petty useless things, although otherwise could be quite useful. Now, though, they served no purpose at all, and so he did not waste his energy on them, although he had plenty of energy to spare. Still, there was no telling what such a wily sneaky female as Raethilinath might do. Indeed, she was almost worthy of his own level of nastiness, from what he had seen. Perhaps she would prove herself worthy. The others, though, he had no hope for at all.

Kit's consciousness snapped from Saruganth's mind and back into his own the moment he felt Ciara draw closer. It wasn't telepathy, but her breath on his skin which made him open his eyes and watch her approach with hunger. Growling as she nipped his lips, he took a step after her when she left him, eyes fixed on hers. She really was a bitch, taking so much time with the others but giving him none of it. Another few steps and he was behind her, although she was with one of the others. He didn't really care to recall who, although he had seen most of the other riders in this room at least once, if not more. Still, their faces blurred together under the haze of their dragon's colors, while Ciara shone brightest of all, outlined in his vision in a halo of purple. It was a pleasing look for her, wet, with clothing sticking to her skin and outlining her frame in soft light. Oh, how Kit wanted to ravish her, to lift her up and away and place his mouth on hers until she stopped struggling and just gave up. He lived for that moment, when they realized they couldn't fight, couldn't struggle and so just gave him their lives. It was magnificent, and he wanted to see her do it for him, to have the light go out behind her eyes so that she would just be a shell of herself. He'd do it too, oh he would. He would.

The time for any sort of patience was over, and the beast inside Eurilith stretched massive, mighty claws as Raethilinath issued her challenge with a shriek before she wheeled and began flying upwards, straight into the rain that sought to obscure the Chaser's vision of the night-dark princess. Above and ahead of she and the males lay the black underbelly of the stormcloud, as dark as their hides, as dark as night, though laced and shot through with lightning as it flicked from cloud to cloud like the sharp slash of claws, dancing in the Chimeric's eyes in dazzling brilliance. Still, those flashes held no candle to Raethilinath's beauty, and he did not allow himself to become enraptured, instead only tracking them in case the pack drew too near and got struck. However, he'd dare much for this fledgling Queen, and even the burning light wouldn't force him down and away from her...

Speed was obviously called for here, and rarely before had Eurilith been so pleased that he was a chimeric, since his black side allowed him to move faster than most of the other, somewhat larger males. Sure he was smaller, but as he flew after Raethilinath, he was also much quicker than several of the bronzes and platinums. He threw himself after her without thought, plunging into the blackened underbelly without hesitation or fear, the sharp crackle of energy-charged air thick around his wings and dancing over his hide in pinpricks. The situation could easily, and quickly, grow far more dangerous than any of the dragons had a right to suspect, but Eurilith felt a sharp pleasure at the threat of danger, of knowing that he was hear, in defiance of the storm, to Chase after the Obsidian that was flying daringly before him.

Heedless of the striking rain and rising winds and the charge of electricity in the air, Eurilith followed the laughing call of the Obsidian, eyes protected by the extra lids and heart pumping mightily to keep his body supplied with oxygen. He didn't waste any time with fancy maneuvers or extravagant actions, preferring to keep as close to Raethilinath as possible, given the circumstances. The sharp crack of lightning all too close to his body forced him into a diving roll, however, that lost him precious distance, and he was sent tumbling to the left with a sharp snarl, teeth bared at the storm above as if he could tear into it, though that wasn't the case. Instead he was forced back into climbing, pumping his wings harshly and abusing his body as he pushed it to the extremes to catch back up to the pack of dragons.

A thunderous, blasting roar escaped Eurilith in challenge, though it was directed more towards the storm than any of the other males, or even anything else, as he fought his way back until he was amongst the bronzes and platinums, regaining his spot more towards the front by sheer will more than anything else. His burning eyes, now almost more red than amethyst, were solely focused on Raethilinath to the exclusion of any and everything else, no longer even paying attention to the storm boiling around him. It had already almost struck him once, even when he was watching out for it, so there was no use paying attention when it clearly wouldn't help him.

Az'is felt his hunger and the adrenaline rush of danger, and grinned wolfishly from his place on the ground, hair rising along the nape of his neck and his arms as if he himself was up there, dancing on the very edge of violence, and it was all he could do to stop the dark laugh from spilling out of his mouth. It helped him ignore the fact that he was here for a woman, further fired his blood, making his heartbeat increase, his stance shifting to something more predatory as he stood there, watching, waiting with eager, burning turquoise eyes. He was patient as she took in the other males, the lesser males that had gathered in awe of her hungers, and the rider felt no urge to do them harm, since Az'is was more focused on Raethilinath than he was on the other Chasers, though he felt a brief flicker of possessive lust as she licked her way up D'nor's throat, his own gaze tracking the bob of the man's neck as he swallowed, masculine power brought to kneel at the foot of the slender woman, at least until a sharp mental snap from Eurilith forced him to focus his attention once more solely on Ciara, though his eyes tried to wander.

Finally he felt eyes on him, however, and Az'is bent his head to look through his bangs at her, knowing how well he looked when the dark strands framed the lighter irises, and grinned in a feral manner once more. She was lovely enough, after all, to distract from her lack of muscles and certain body parts he held such fine appreciation for. And seemed headstrong enough to give him a fight, which had been lacking far too often in his playtoys as of late. And then Ciara was nudging him backwards, entrenching herself in his personal space before sliding one leg up and around his hip, tugging their bodies in close before nipping at his mouth and reaching up to thread her fingers through his hair, drawing a ragged groan from deep within. The lack of masculine appendages was apparent, and boobs were something he'd have to get used to again, but her fire was desirable, and Az'is found his one hand coming down, fingers wrapping around her upraised thigh to tug her in closer, harder before rolling against her, his other hand snaking around the backside of head, the big palm completely encompassing her nape, before squeezing slightly, enough to put pressure for her to know he had her, but not enough to hurt, not enough to be truly possessive, as his blood boiled for.

"Ciara" he said as their lips parted, breathing her name back to her before leaning forward again to nip at her neck, the tender, delicate flesh bared before him tauntingly. However, he had no real wish to keep her there, not when he might seem overly possessive, and with another bone deep groan, he forced his fingers to loosen, in case she wished to slip away from him. He kept his eyes focused on hers, however, allowing her to see just how badly he wanted her, ocean eyes as darkened as the skies above them with the lust running through his veins. "Very few woman appease me anymore, but you... You are intoxicating" Az'is spoke in his purring voice, giving a full body shudder on the last word, eyes closed and back arching as if having a mini-orgasm right there, so eager for this Flight, now that he had given in.

Stinging black fog seethed all around her, a flickering mass of confusion that dizzied her senses so that it was impossible to tell by sight alone which way was up. Raethilinath flew on sheer instinct, trusting the feel of the air on her wings to let her know which way to go. Even as thunder groaned all around her, she pushed through the thick swathe of cloud, reaching upward, always upward.

She sought the moons and the stars, the clear air where she would finally make her choice. For the lashing wind and wet she cared little. They were nothing to her, unworthy of her attention. She thought only of her coming prize, of the males from which she would choose the one who pleased her best. A mate, a plaything—and a father for her eggs. Raethilinath pushed upward, feeling the air thin around her, knowing that the roof of the cloud must be close.

Higher! she called to her males. Higher, my darlings, I want to see you! To see which of you is most devoted...

Ciara's lips curved, echoing Raethilinath's merriment and her own delight as Az'is nipped at her neck. It was such a shame that this game had to end eventually, but she was determined to enjoy it to the fullest while it lasted. She pressed her body closer against Az'is for a moment to murmur a few words into his ear. "Oh yes, I am. Isn't it a pity you can't keep me all to yourself?" Then she slipped out of his grasp and, turning around, ran right into Kit.

"Oh, hello," she purred, looking up to meet his gaze. He didn't look pleased with her, and she didn't miss it. She had hardly touched him since the flight began—he was right to be disappointed. And angry, too, but Ciara was pleased with that as well. This was her night, and her flight, and she would do with her males as she would. She fully intended to prod and tease and play with them until they were all considerably more than half-mad, so of course he should be upset. But she didn't want a fight in her weyr; that would be messy. She only wanted to drive them to the edge, but whether they tipped over or not... well. That was for them to decide.

Ciara leaned in, and this time she didn't dance away after a quick nip. Would he have let her go if she tried? She didn't know. But the young weyrwoman's eyes were at half-mast as she offered herself to the bronzerider, inviting him to take what he desired freely while he had the opportunity. One hand wormed underneath his shirt to slide over the contours of his stomach, while the other dipped lower, brushing against the bulge in his pants and lingering there.

Raethilinath was almost free of the clouds. Her wings pumped in a furious tempo as her arousal heightened, heedless of the threatening howl of the storm. Static snapped and arced over her wings—the clouds all around her groaned as if in agony. Raethilinath faltered a beat in her flight, and the night blazed around her while a thunderous crack rent the air, drowning the dragoness's agonized scream. On the ground below, Ciara's sudden shriek pierced the relative quiet of the weyr. Her fingers turned to claws and her vision vanished in a haze of white while her muscles clenched and spasmed. Raethilinath spiraled back into the thunderhead with one wing blackened and seizing.

"No, no, NO!" Ciara screamed, ripping herself clear of Kit to stand quaking in the center of the room. Raethilinath's good wing stretched back out, slowing her acceleration. "This is nothing. Nothing!" The ruined remains of her other wing jerked away from her body and began to beat. "We aren't finished." The obsidian's body slowed its downward descent, stopped. And began its upward climb anew.

Ciara's breaths dragged at her lungs. Her face was once more wet, this time with tears of sheer pain. But her eyes were once again clear, her muscles under her own control. In the sky Raethilinath slowly gained altitude, and finally broke free of the clouds while the storm continued to rage below. Her males would be waiting for her, wanting to know where she had gone. She wouldn't disappoint them. It would take more than a pretentious nightlight to smite her from the sky. One wing was blistered and frayed, and she could not fly for much longer, but she was still a queen, and she would have her mating flight, lightning or no.

"Come, then," Ciara growled, dragging Sa'ren to her and clutching him possessively. "We're not done here. Come!" Her mouth ravaged his, teethe and tongue taking without regard for patience or manners. He was hers. They were all hers tonight, and by the first egg, she would have them. Pushing away from the bronzerider, she sought out his platinumrider counterpart and had a taste of him as well, tugging him down so that she could reach his lips more easily.

It was a frenzy within her now, one that would only grow until she could have one of them in earnest. She visited each of them again, wrapping herself around Rilaith's rider, pressing her damp, quivering body against Za'cria so that she could touch her lips to the hollow at the base of his throat. But she wouldn't be kept, not by any of them. She lingered only briefly with each rider, spending a few moments even Kit and Az'is again, before she she stalked away from all of them, not caring who followed and who didn't. She wouldn't object if any of them touched her now, couldn't resist if any of them tempted her, but she was done flitting about like an insect sipping from so many flowers.

So tempt me, my loves, Raethilinath invited. Win your victory.

Her injured wing burned, but she was beyond it. The end was near, so very near. She would be no less particular for the hurt she had suffered. Her demands were only that much greater—she would accept no less than perfection from the father of her clutch. Slowly, she glided in a wide circle around her chasers, climbing ever so slightly with each painful beat of her wings. The storm continued to rumble below, but under the icy glow of the twin moons the obsidian was awarded a temporary respite from the rain and wind. She stretched her wings a bit wider and soared.

---

next post: Sunday, November 27th

Thereth's will knew no bounds as he soared higher into the clouds, the winds buffeting him back and forth. He ignored them. There was something that he followed that was of far greater importance. The Platinum wove around the other suitors, sometimes using his bulk to push them out of the way. He wanted this. Needed it. Craved it like nothing he had ever wanted before. His entire body pulsed and strained to reach the ultimate goal, the glittering Raethilinath. The closer he flew, the more aggressive he became in his flight. Not to hurt the other males, no. His aggressiveness narrowed to a single pinpoint in the storm, so much so that he could think of nothing else. Thereth's body hummed in response to her pull like a string that had been plucked and vibrated for minutes on end.

He saw the flash of lightning and then felt the crack of thunder before hearing the agonized scream of the Queen he sought. Thereth bellowed in sympathy, his mind reeling as he saw Raethilinath's mangled, blackened wing. That the element of sky had marred such perfection angered him and he roared his fury in spite of the storm's indifference. He wanted to sweep her away and challenge the storm, but it was a foolish thought, however chivalrous. As she rose again after being struck, the platinum dragon admired her strength of will. Few would continue to plunge forward after being so injured, but she did. If she could fly while in such pain, how could he do less? Never had Thereth tried so hard before. Reaching deep within himself, he pulled every last bit of energy he had and followed her siren call above the clouds.

With the storm below him and the clear sky above, Thereth took a deep breath. Immediately he spotted the Obsidian Queen as she soared above the clouds. Such perseverance. It was exquisite. Were it that I could take away your pain, Raethilinath. You have astonished me in your endeavor to continue. Let me carry you to the moons and back and you will not find yourself disappointed. His voice was thunderous after the storm, yet smooth and gentle, caressing in its promise. The Platinum had filled it with almost all of his strength, to try and persuade the dark temptress that he was her most devout follower. He had had plunged into the heart of the storm, had braved lightning and fire, winds and rain, to stay with her. Surely such devotion would not be overlooked?

T'naen braced himself as Ciara returned to him, pulling him down to take what she wanted. He bent willingly, wrapping his arms around her to pull her even closer so he could match her fire with his own. It burned within him as much as it burned within Thereth. He plunged a hand into her dark hair and deepened the kiss until the room seemed to disappear and it was only them standing in the middle of the room. When she pulled away, he groaned in frustration. T'naen held back another possessive urge to pull her back. He watched her with his hunger almost at a peak, but he waited, unwillingly.

His heart nearly broke at her scream when her dragon was struck by lightning and he growled a warning at the other riders to stay away from her, following her as she moved away. Quickly walking around her, he turned to face her again, but he didn't pull her to him. T'naen lifted a hand and gently wiped at the tears streaking her face. "Ciara." It was only her name, but it as much comfort he could offer without holding her to him. He didn't know fancy words, even after the many times Thereth had tried to teach him. T'naen could no more take away her pain than he could tame the birds from the sky. His only confidence was that he could give her more. She only had to take that one step into his arms, and he would carry her away into a world where pain was forgotten for a time until Raethilinath returned and could be healed.

Thath forced his wings to work harder throwing himself fully after the shimmering dark goddess he followed. He couldn't have denied the Obsidian even if he'd wanted too. Her call was too powerful, too demanding to ignore. I'm here, beautiful Reathilinath. he answered as she ordered them to fly higher. He would fly as high as she wanted him to and further to prove that he was worthy. He didn't care that there were other males competing for the same prize. He saw only Reathilinath, only felt the urge, no the need to follow her. He roared in fury at her shriek of agony tail lashing powerfully. He gave a soft keen as he saw the beautiful Obsidian's wing charred and blackened though he had to admire her willpower. She was staying in the air when most would have landed. What a queen she was! All you have to do is say the words, beautiful Reathilinath and I'm yours to command. I would be honored to stand beside a Queen such as yourself. the pale bronze crooned to the dark goddess that was Reathilinath. She had all of his attention and he would gladly carry her higher if she chose him.

Sa'ren bit back a growl as Ciara played with her other suitors, lust warring with jealousy for control of his actions. He wanted so badly to tear her away from the other riders, even T'nean and keep her from them. He wanted her for himself there was no denying that fact. His lips curled back in a snarl as Ciara found herself in the other bronzerider's arms as she pulled away from the chimericrider. The Obsidianrider's scream froze him and for a moment he thought the other bronzerider might have hurt her but then Thath's anger hit him. A breath shuddered out through his clenched teeth as he caught sight of the Obsidian's blackened wing a shudder running down his spine. He barely heard Ciara's first words ones that were obviously spoken to her dragoness but then she was pulling him closer. She was savage in her demands but he responded with just as much passion, his body quivering in delight that she was so close. Then she was darting among the rest of them again, once more sparking that never far away jealousy.

How could one rider stir up this much emotion in him in one Flight?

He shoved those thoughts away as Ciara stalked to the center of the room. They weren't far from being done, he could feel through Thath that the Obsidian was almost ready to make her decision, to choose her mate. Rider and dragon quivered with contained eagerness. Sa'ren stepped closer to Ciara though he didn't touch her, wasn't sure he could control himself if he did, wasn't sure he wanted himself to be in control. By Faranth he wanted her though, and badly, wanted to feel her writhing in pleasure beneath him. A delicious, sultry smirk flickered across his lips, the invitation clear in his eyes and stance. She only had to take that last step to him and he would be her shield until Reathilinath came back and could be healed.

---

Rilaith stretched his wings to their fullest as he powered through the air after Reathilinath. He would not be scared away from the storm! He pressed on despite the howling winds and pounding rain that threatened to blind him and toss him from the sky. He didn't give an answer as Reathilinath gave her challenge but surged upward after her. He could feel they were almost out of the clouds and that he could be grateful for. He could navigate through this storm but as it took its toll on him the platinum knew it took its toll on the others. He felt a change in the air, saw the static jump on the Obsidian's wings as it illuminated the young queen. Then came the thunderous crack and the dark beauty's agonized scream that tore at his heart ripping a roar from him. He'd started to swoop down to make sure she landed safely but then she was slowly climbing upward. Such strength of will this young beauty had. I would be honored to carry you higher beautiful one. You have proved you are a brave queen tonight and I would be honored to follow you higher. the platinum rumbled his eyes only for Reathilinath.

D'nor watched with barely veiled jealousy as Ciara tasted of her other suitors flitting among them like a bee tasting flowers trying to find the best nectar. He shook his head at the barely supressed growl from the rider of the pale bronze noting the jealousy in his eyes, the possessiveness. He felt it himself but he'd been in enough Flights to know most of the time those feelings didn't make a difference. Still he'd been a rider long enough to know that Reathilinath had been hurt when Ciara screamed. Empathy filled him for the queenrider though he didn't say anything. When Ciara resumed her tasting of the other suitors he could see the frenzy and his own body responded to it. He would grip her close when she came to him allowing himself to run his hands over her arms as long as she stayed with him. Then she was away and tasting the others before stalking to the center of the room away from all of them. He simply watched her stepping closer though he didn't aim to crowd her. He could feel the Flight was drawing to a close and he wondered who would be the lucky one tonight.

Muscles straining, heart thumping in time to the rythym of wingbeats and the howling of the wind, Eurilith could barely afford to focus on anything other than the glowing beauty ahead of them all, tempting her males with siren song taunting, forcing them to work ever harder in their pursuit of her perfection. It was hard going, more so than usual for a flight simply thanks to the storm that was raging around them, but that only heightened the exhilaration, the longing, the need that the large Platinum-black male could feel thrumming through his very veins as he lunged after Raethilinath. However, even the distraction of her stunning form and his sheer near single-minded focus on her wasn't enough to fully distract him, not when he felt the sudden rising danger in the back of his mind, the humming static building in the air making his thoughts falter, his pace slow minutely as his eyes tracked back and forth, trying to focus on where the danger might come from.

Eurilith bucked mid-air when the clouds groaned around them, body twisting as if to save itself from a pain that never came, and he found his own bellow of surprised rage drowned out by the pure, high scream of agony. She had gotten clipped by a bolt and, having only narrowly avoided the same fate earlier in the Flight, Eurilith could only imagine the pain she was feeling at the moment, and without hesitation threw himself after her spiraling form once more, intent on catching her should she be unable to keep herself in the skies, mating lust broken for a sheer moment, and even his own natural inclinations faltering under the sheer need to protect, to help. It was instinct to offer himself for a Queen, and Raethilinath was that, even if she was Flying, and he could do nothing less than make sure she was as safe as possible, even if it meant losing himself.

He dared closer, probably closer than he should, and snarled boldly at the sky as if in challenge, his bulky form ready and willing to take any blow that might come swinging down at the Obsidian next. The female, though obviously still in a terrible amount of pain, was climbing yet again, an almost distant part of Eurilith noted, and he kept in time with her, easier now that she was moving so much slower. Twisting along with Raethilinath, the Platinum-Black male spread his wings as wide as possible as he climbed along with her, only focusing fully on the Chase once they had broken free of the clouds, thankful that the lightning hadn't dared strike out again to cause further injury.

With a roll Eurilith put himself back underneath Raethilinath, even now choosing to keep himself between her and the storm. Though they'd hurtle back through it once she had finally chosen, he'd prefer to keep them apart for as long as possible, but it was time... Time for her to choose, finally, and with all the males having made it through the storm just as he himself had, there was only one last chance to shine. With a rumbling croon, Eurilith rose and rose before slowly rolling his head, then neck over backwards, arching sinuously in the air to perform a backflip, wings spread wide to catch the available light, sending sparks of glittering color to surround his form like a halo. Raethilinath, Queen of the Storms, Queen that even the lightning can not break... Eurlith crooned, sang, even as he came about, hovering in front of her once more and only holding himself back with the faintest of restraints. You have come this far with no falter from your wings, and for that, you do this weyr, and myself, proud... Allow me to carry you from now on, to be your strength and your wings... I would never allow you to fall.

Az'is nearly snarled aloud as Ciara finally tore herself away from him, hips bucking in futile effort to follow her, though he kept himself firmly against the wall, not allowing him to chase like an untrained puppy. Instead he twisted his fingers into the belt loops of his pants, and forced his body to remain rigid against the wall, only his eyes tracking her, burning with near-painful lust and growing fervor as she danced her way over to the other, less worthy, males in the room... Flickers of color were all that distinguished them in Az'is' eyes, platinum and bronze... He could no longer remember anything about what htey really looked like, or their individual names, even the ones standing close to him. They were only opponents, people standing in his/Eurilith's way, and thus, enemies.

Ciara's sudden shriek, however, had any vision of calmness fleeing Az'is posture as he instantly pushed away from the wall, hands curled into claws as his eyes darted around the room, ready to fend off any danger to the woman that had caught his attention, lips raising and teeth bared in a snarl at the other males as if they were the cause. Only a quick touch in with Eurilith had him realizing just what had happened, and instantly he winced and hissed aloud, knowing how painful his own dragon's brush with lightning had been, and he hadn't even gotten the full force of it... For Raethilinath to still be Flying was almost impossible, and he almost prodded his own dragon to make sure and watch out for her, but it was already clear that the Platinum-Black male was already doing so, protectively putting himself between her and further danger from the electrically-charged skies until they finally burst above the cloud-cover.

Angered words drew his attention back to the ground, and Az'is re-centered himself, turning his eyes back to the furious female who had torn herself away from the male she'd been hanging all over. Instead she circled them angrily and quickly 'attacked' another male, ravaging him with her mouth and hands as he stood there almost passively, accepting her attentions as if they were his due. The platinum-black rider snarled again, lowly, hands clenching even as he stared at the pairing before she moved on, cutting a swathe through the riders.

Finally she came to him once more, and this time Az'is allowed himself another snarl, nearly in her face, but a more possessive than angered one. "Ciara" he said, voice gravelly as he took another step forward, nearly looming over her, as much as he could, and leaned over to sniff her neck, keeping his eyes in contact with her own as long as possible before breathing hotly on the tender skin. "I want you..." This time the words were murmured, barely audible, and surely only she could hear them, unlike all the other riders. He did not allow himself to do anything further, however, simply leaned temptingly into her space, waiting for her to make that final move, into his arms.

What was heaven but the sky, a place unreachable to all but a select few, and what was hell but the earth, where the masses toiled endlessly in a nightmare of their own creation, and what was both, but the mind and body shared during a flight. Turmoil and confusion, boiling inside of Za'cria, making his head and heart spin, and the world tilt in his mind, so that he swayed as if in a gale. He couldn't make sense out of what was happening around him. It was not just a blur, but a confused blur. For there were other shapes moving around him and the only thing clear was Ciara. He was caught between the heavens and the earth, torn between two bodies and two prizes, but just as he was two as well as one, so were they and she. Still, it hurt to try and decide who he wanted more, and who he really was, for some of the time he was simply Za'cria, as normal as he could be with the lust of a dragon pounding in his veins and mind, and other times he was nothing but a streak of silver in the grey sky, intent upon nothing but a singular goal, and oblivious to the rain and danger around him.

Her... their... her scream hurt him, them, him... but what could he, they, he, do? Thoughts, feelings, ideas, hopes, desires... all of it were muddled inside their heads, as Zac switched between his earthly and heavenly body. To his vision, the world was tilted sideways and he felt like he was falling, although for the most part he was perfectly still. After moving toward Ciara he had stayed still, watching her with as much intensity as he could. Mostly, now, he was not in his own body, but spinning high above it in the sky, dodging past the other males and through the clouds and wind to the prize because he needed to be there for her. Just as Ciara felt Raethilinath's pain, Twayamoth felt Za'cria's need to help. Raethilinath, before him, faltered slightly and Twayamoth pushed himself faster. He was Za'cria and Za'cria was him, now and completely, and within that added strength there was the added need to help, and protect. He felt responsible, both rider and dragon, although it was neither their fault nor was there anything they could have done. But a female, so soft, so small, and so hurt spoke to both of them deep down, and they needed to assist, needed to lend aid. If you fall, I will catch you. Strive on, Raethilinath. You are more than beautiful.

Still, he, they, he wished to help, to catch her as she fell and wavered, and for a moment, both rider and dragon were confused. They wanted to catch the pair who were, in their mind, falling, but they also wanted them all to themselves for other less appropriate reasons. At the moment, though, he couldn't decide, couldn't know, which one he wanted more and the battle between himself and Twayamoth, between the choices made him snap, if only slightly, and when someone bumped into him, he turned around and punched the figure. The blow made Kit's head spin and he staggered back, snarling and ready to fight, but he was tugged away instantly by Saruganth. His body staggered and slumped slightly. The scream that Ciara had let escape had done the opposite for him, and it had excited him greatly. It had not been him who had hurt her, sure, but still, to know that she, in all of her glowing glory could be broken was a delight to him and to Saruganth, who hissed with displeasure at the other males and sped up. He had no desire to help Raethilinath unlike the others, for what was shy but a prize to be won or lost? Her pain concerned him very little except that it would now make it easier for the other to catch her. He had the edge in stamina, but now perhaps that would not be needed, and he had to be in the front, right there, to catch her if she collapsed.

Saruganth, with K'raer's added energy, was able to pull himself further in front than he had been previously. His wingbeats, in the rain, were sluggish and heavy and it took him longer than the others to gain the speed required. His heavy weight in this rain was both a blessing and a curse. He could not be easily blown off course, but he also took longer to gain the acceleration that the others could easily acquire. It frustrated the large bronze and he roared his annoyance to the world, although it was drowned out by thunder. Snarling, Kit was allowed back into his body and he snapped himself to attention, eyes darting between Za'cria and Ciara. Zac was shaking uncontrollably and breathing heavily, and although he was looking in Kit's direction, his eyes were unfocused. It was clear that it wasn't worth Kit's time to go after him, for although his head ached terribly and he desperately wanted revenge, it didn't seem as though Zac would even notice the same happening to him, and Kit was likely to get another rattling blow to the head if he tried. Snarling like his dragon, he stalked past the platinumrider and toward Ciara, pushing others out of his way if he had to. They were all sheep. And he a feline, with a feline grin. In the end, he'd get the lamb. Turning that grin on Ciara, he chuckled darkly. "You could cry out again, pretty. It was most pleasing."

The dragon's wings beat slowly against the thin and cold night air, her blistered appendage flailing in time with its healthy twin but nevertheless causing the dragon to drift to one side. Clouds still frothed and flashed below her, but she was well beyond them for now, at the apex of her flight, and felt no fear. It was sheer lust that drove her now, brutal craving from which there was only one respite. Carnal instinct throbbed in the twin beats of her hearts and shivered down her long, rain-slick body. Even with weakness sinking its crippling claws into her, she wanted nothing so much as the feel of a male's flesh pressed against her own, and so Raethilinath swept her eyes around, seeking.

Ciara sought with her, looking around the heated chamber but seeing only black sky, with flashes of silver and bronze against it. She was overcome, immersed in Raethilinath and blind to everything but the one goal which her queen sought so avidly. Ciara glided with the obsidian, circling platinum and bronze, drifting over silver-clouded black, judging and admiring even as her own wings began to falter. But she would let none of them take her before she was ready. Raethilinath had enough life left in her wings to evade any grasping claws, and aimed haughty looks at any who came too near. She was queen, and she would be the one to make the final choice.

Every last male had made it through the thunderhead without faltering, braving that which would readily tear any of them from the sky for the hope of winning her. Although they were each unique, with their own set of temptations, her suitors were matched in nerve. But how some of them had roared with anger when the storm had dared to lash out at her. And how others had swooped closer, though whether to save her or to claim her she didn't know. Raethilinath reveled in the fawning compliments and sly promises offered to her, admired Thereth's poetic words and Thath's solemn promises--Rilaith was nothing but respect and courtesy, while Eurilith caressed her mind with eloquent cajolery. The little platinum was so cute, all earnest energy, while the largest of her chasers, the hulking bronze, said nothing at all. They were all temptations, but only one could win her. Only one could be good enough.

And so, she chose.

Raethilinath tilted her wings, banked closer to the shimmering dragon who had most caught her eye, and her passions. Her injured wing was about to fold from stress, but there would be no need for her to keep herself aloft any longer--not with the strong wings of a dashing, delicious male supporting her. You all may leave, for I have made my choice, she said to the unfortunate remainder. Eurilith, you have your wish. Claim your prize... but gently.

As the obsidian slowly spiraled towards the sleek chimeric dragon below her, Ciara stepped away from the suddenly unwelcome press of males around her. She would accept only one. Without another thought for those who remained behind, Ciara stepped to Az'is and into his arms. He was hers for the rest of the night to do with as she wished--and the reverse as well was true. She leaned in with a smile on her lips. "You have me," she murmured. "Use me well."

---

notes:

That's a wrap, folks! Many many thanks to everyone who participated in the flight--It was so much fun. I loved it, and I hope you did too. Look forward to eggs being laid sometime near Christmas!

Waiting was the hardest part... Waiting for the female to choose, to either pick him as her mate or dismiss him from her sight, waiting with bated breath and aching wings while she looked them over, judging them. Eurilith fought to stay where he was, to stay away from Raethilinath, but it was getting harder and harder the longer he was forced to not take her in his claws. His entire body wanted hers, and finally, finally she made her decision, breaking the tension with a near tangible snap.

A high, screaming cry escaped Eurilith as soon as she graced his mind with her words, and he stooped like a hawk to entangle himself in her as she flew his way, claws outstretching to lock with her own even as he wrapped his neck and tail around hers. His wings powered the air, beating the sky as hard as he could to make sure that they remained in the air as long as possible even as they began their downward descent. Eurilith knew that Raethilinath would be unable to help at all, but he wouldn't allow anything less than the best for their Flight. My Queen, my Raethilinath... He purred, loud and growling and enthused.

Az'is, for his part, groaned deep in his throat as Ciara came into his arms, before flicking his attention to the men that still stood there, snarling possessively at them before swinging his and the Obsidian rider's bodies around, forcing her up and against the wall while covering her form with his own larger one. "I don't do shows, get out of here, now." He snapped at the other men before turning his full attention back to the woman in his arms, the only thing that mattered at that moment.

Flight lust and the furious energy from winning filled his veins, making him feel all powerful, possessive, a full dominant in his prime, and he grinned down at her with a predatory, lustful interest, before leaning down to seal his lips to her own. He'd make this a night she'd remember, even for all the lust clouding their minds, Az'is would make sure of it.