Cool.
It was one of those days that left Martirae feeling absolutely miserable. While she’d settled at High Reaches comfortably, the cold and snow always left her nose and lips feeling raw. Every breath of cold air seemed to freeze all of her senses and as of late, it had left her irritable. Even the warm nights curled up with Zyamel hadn’t been wearing her nerves down. Even Anakumath’s sweet, sweet, ever-present love had done nothing for it. But she’d not been blind as to the why’s. A young maiden Queen, going into her second turn.
She practically lit up the Weyr on her ledge, even during the days, now. A passing comment to one of her Seniors had all but confirmed her suspicions and she’d become more mindful to it. That pull, that tug, that coming need. Martirae was mindful to anchor her gold, knowing that it could have been days, it could have been weeks, but she would need to keep the first time riser from key mistakes.
If she’d not just eaten breakfast in the last few candlemarks, she may have written off her hunger. Hunger. Desire. Not just for food. For the sky. It pulled at her heart and at wings she didn’t have.
It was time.
Anakumath had paced the Weyrbowl time and time again, watching the sky as though something far beyond it whispered to her. Whispered doom and destruction. It threatened everything she loved without words. It would take some of it no matter what she did. But it’s threats would not scare her. The time had circled inwards. Three. Two. One. She hungered. She craved the sky’s embrace in a way she never could have imagined from just watching her green sisters.
It was time.
My loves - my beloved - my home. Today’s sky belongs to me until I belong to one of your wings. Come to me. It is time to fly. a delicate amount of command twisted through her words, beckoning her first, true throng. She would blood, forced from flesh by Martirae’s will.
Then it would be time to take to the sky. While she would give all their due attention, there would be one, in particular, she ached for.
Elzebuth’s possessive nature seemed to ratchet itself up a notch or two over the past week, and G’ran at first attributed it to the cold that settled over High Reaches. The big brown spent his time lingering near Anakumath as per usual, both besotted and obsessed with the young Queen. It never occurred to him that it might be something more. He felt Elzebuth’s sudden, razor-sharp focus and intent, and a glance to the skies made his stomach drop out from the bottom. Anakumath was rising. That… made a lot of things click into place.
The sweet summons immediately roused him from where he lounged on his ledge, and Elzebuth slipped into the icy air. His broad wings caught the air, carrying him up, up! He knew that dragons were rising into the skies to answer Anakmuath’s call, but his attention was fixed on her alone. She was a blazing beacon upon the ground, blooding her kill before the frenzied pace of the flight.. Fly where you will. He purred, his eyes deepening to swirling shades of purple as he continued to rise into the air in preparation. When it is time, I will be there to claim you from the skies. It was a promise he intended to keep.
Before Anakumath, he had been a relentless chaser, unwilling to settle for only a little of a good thing. He’d even backed away once she made it clear that she intended devotion--a one and only. Elzebuth was many things, but a tried and true mate? No, that was not something he desired, he thought. But as time passed, he found himself… conflicted. They were still friends, yes, but there was an absence in his hearts that unsettled him. It took long discussions with his rider to better understand his own feelings.
For her, he would be devoted.
It didn’t matter who else intended to chase her. Elzebuth knew he was the strongest and the most capable, and he intended to be the one to seize her in his claws. He beat his wings even harder, crooning as he waited for Anakmuath to take to the skies.
She knew most of them in some way – in passing, in introduction, in their firey passionate Threadfighting forms, and of course in being so beloved and close that while his appearance comforted her, she’d have been more shocked to not see him. But she would show no favoritism towards her chosen Champion and his approach received the same lustful brush of approval as the rest as she finished blooding her first beast, then the second that followed shortly. Blood didn’t sate like flesh, but the urge to take to the skies was almost stronger than Martirae’s will, which pressed the need for it until the woman was satisfied.
It was also the time that allowed the other Goldriders of High Reaches to take their leave before young Anakumath’s wings spread and with a grace most would not assume a gold of her roundness to possess she pushed from the ground, up from the feeding pen, up from the Weyrbowl.
Up.
Up.
Up.
If she sent an extra flirtatious, prodding, teasing, tempting thought to Elzebuth as she sailed up past him, twirling and twisting in the air as she took up her position at the top of her assembly of suitors, well…..she considered it motivation. Though he’d hardly be the only one to receive the kindness of extra brushes of lust. His were simply far more personal. She wanted him even when her instincts weren’t pushing her to want and be wanted. But he’d have to earn her. She expected him to earn her.
Come, then, my dears, my loves, her mind’s voice was a caress, making sure she had all of their undivided attention. Only then, did the small gold make to put them through their paces.
Up, up. Away. She’d not stay solely above the Weyr, not when the snowy landscape beyond would make just as beautiful a backdrop. As a gold, she’d never have the speed of a green, but she was a small one who had a lead, and she flapped hard to make sure she kept that lead. But it wasn’t all strain and work, diving and rolling and twirling as she soaked in the feeling of the cool air against her glowing hide.
Eager is good, but what else?
Then she flared her wings out so hard, braking in a way that sent any inattentive or slow to stop suitor sailing past her as she allowed the momentum to push her back, then drop her. Not into a fall, but enough to twist and change directions as sharply as a dragon her size could. Sweet words were aplenty, of course, and she was ever so kind to return and tease and tempt their speakers along, summoning them to fly a little harder, to show her what it was she wanted.
Though she didn’t know what that was.
It was simply instinct that pushed her, and her chasers, though tight, windy peaks – not all gentle to navigate – and then up again. Though the low clouds were icy, she’d pierce through them to sunnier heights and while they may have tempted her to bask at any other time, now the sun did little to warm her already heated body. She’d outlast all of her suitors if she wasn’t careful but she made no effort to pace herself for them. They weren’t ready to fall.
She wasn’t ready to fall. Her wings wouldn’t tire and she would expect herself to be grabbed, rather than given.
To see her like this, brimming with life and confidence, only fueled the desire pounding in her hearts. She twisted through the sky as she toyed with them, but equally distributed her favor in typical Anakumath fashion. There was a graciousness to her that he gladly would have hoarded all to himself if he were able, and he flung himself after her until every muscle screamed. He was and would never be a bronze dragon.
He didn’t need to be.
His chest expanded and contracted like a blacksmith’s bellows as he continued to suck down air. It would be all too easy to let his tired wings fold and fall away from the chase, but the thought never even crossed his mind. He drew closer and closer to her glittering form, forcing himself to beat his wings and rise just a bit higher….
Now.
Elzebuth dove, twisting sharply as he fell so he could reach out and snatch her before she could pull away once more. Triumph seized him, fierce and hot, but he had no energy to waste on bugling like a fool. His wings snapped open to catch the air once more, his neck and tail twining around hers. You are mine. He rumbled, his eyes practically glowing as he pulled her close. And I am yours.
There would be those who thought it poor form that the brown simply plucked the gold from the skies - those who would not know that it had simply been Anakumath’s preference. She was a prize, to some degree, but also to be known so dearly, so closely that Elzebuth could feel the rhythm of the way she flew was a prize of its own. Did it not prove her beloved to be so clever? To be so wise? Certainly, there would be those who argued she’d played favoritism in some way - and she’d let them have their balking. She would instead soak in the entwined embrace of her Champion.
The skies will no longer be ours, my love, but the future will be - all of its devious twists and divine elations. her eyes twisted with their varying purples as she spoke.
As all golds did, she had flown gloriously and left the ground far below them. But they would not plummet to their end. There was still strength to be had in their wings. While their future would shift and change with each decision for the better or the worse, the here and now was wonderful indeed.
- - - -
You all know what this means! Get those Candidates created, because we've got some eggs on the way! We will be opening a HR Mixer soon, since we all know how things get when a gold starts glowing!
We will also be running a raffle of possible bronze and brown participants who were not so lucky as to win this time around, and give out a few prizes.
Bring on the excitement and speculation, and congratulate the new parents!
More to come soon!