By skeabs

The sun rose slowly over the Northern Continent, its rays illuminating Hall and Hold. Golden light spilled slowly over the heights into the bowl of Telgar Weyr, warming dragon hide and shining into the eyes of one rider trying to sleep through the morning.

Lance rolled away from the sun, attempting to escape it beneath the cover of his wher-hide blankets.

Wake up! he heard his dragon calling.

No, Lance groaned inwardly.

The sun is warm! Samarth’s green head turned toward him from her ledge. Get up!

Lance sighed as he rolled over and scratched his head, scrubbing his fingers through his short hair as he sat up.

Up, I’m up.

Lance yawned as he reached for his clothes, pulling them on as he padded over to his dragon.

“Good morning, darling,” he said aloud, running cool fingers over her warm hide. He leaned heavily against her neck, yawning as she turned her head and beamed a draconic grin at him.

Didn’t think you’d ever get up.

“We have a break today, no reason to,” he said, reaching a hand out to scratch her eye ridges.

There is always a reason.

“What do you know that I don’t?”

I know nothing you don’t know, she said, sounding peevish in his mind.

“Sorry, sweet.” He ran an apologetic hand down her neck, reveling in the soft, warm hide. Then his stomach grumbled and he laughed, muffling the sound in the skin of her neck.

Hungry?

“Yes, yes. Ready?” He swung up on her neck and tightened his knees, holding on with the strength of his legs. “Go!”

Samarth launched from their weyr and dropped quickly to the Weyr Bowl floor. Lance slid from her neck and waved to Justin, who was just emerging from the queen’s quarters on the bottom level of the Weyr.

“Morning,” Lance said, falling into step with Justin, who blinked weary eyes in his direction.

“Mornin’,” he said sleepily.

Lance grinned. He knew Justin wasn’t much for conversation before he’d had his cereal.

Honora found them while they ate. “Joseph’s looking for you,” she said, winking at Justin. She and Lance both laughed when he dipped his head and blushed, scrubbing a hand through his tousled curls.

“And Chris needs you,” she said to Lance when Justin had gone to find Joseph. “He’s going to the Southern Continent to get nettle for…Oh, he’ll tell you. You’re going with him.”

Lance nodded and finished his cereal quickly, downing his klah on the way to the door. In the caves he passed Joseph and Justin, twined together in the shadows and occupied only with each other. He grinned in their direction, though neither noticed, and continued outside.

Chris caught him as he crossed the Weyr floor. “Did Honora tell you?”

Lance nodded.

“Go get your gear. Might want to pack a change of clothes. We’ll be gone several days.”

Lance nodded and ran off, barely suppressing a giddy laugh. Several days alone with Chris was too good to be true.

What? What are we doing?

Come down! I need to get up to our weyr.

He watched Samarth glide down from the heights, the sun shining off her bright green hide. His heart swelled with pride. He had trouble remembering, sometimes, that she was his.

You’re mine, she said, landing lightly beside him.

“We’re going with Rahleth,” he said as he climbed on her neck. “We’ll be gone several days.”

Oh, I like Rahleth.

He grinned as she hopped lightly on the ledge.

Lance settled astride Samarth and looked over at Chris on Rahleth. “She get the picture?” Chris asked.

Lance turned to Samarth. “Got it?”

Yes.

Lance nodded to Chris.

“Let’s fly!” Chris called, pumping his fist in the air. The green dragon followed the brown aloft and both winked Between.

Though he’d experienced it many times, the cold of Between never ceased to startle Lance and he was late, this time, in starting the rhyme.

“Black, blacker-” he started to say. He’d just finished the “er” on “blacker” when they emerged in the air above a small cove along the beach on the Southern Continent.

Rahleth dropped to the sand and Samarth followed quickly, barely pausing to drop Lance and ask a hurried Can I? before she splashed out into the waves with Rahleth.

Lance looked around the beach; at the warm white sand, the crystal blue water, the lush vegetation lining the shore. “Why are we here, exactly?”

“I thought Honora told you.”

“Just that I was to go with you.”

“Silly. Okay, well. We’re picking nettle, fun as that sounds. For a salve they use for infections. The job rotates and it’s my turn. Best stuff can normally be found down here, so it’s really a vacation.”

“With nettle.”

“Fringe benefits,” Chris said and laughed.

Lance looked out over the cove waters, where Samarth and Rahleth rolled around in the shallow waters; their wet hides glistening in the warm southern sun. He smiled.

As the dragons sprawled across the sand to dry, Chris led Lance to the clearing where the majority of the nettle grew.

“There’s a technique, kid,” Chris said, demonstrating how to pick the nettle without sticking himself. Lance watched for a while and then tried to imitate Chris’s actions, wrapping his hand around the middle of a large patch of nettle. He yelped and pulled his hand back, sucking his finger into his mouth.

“Are you all right?” Chris and Samarth asked at the same time.

Lance smiled around his finger. “Fine,” he mumbled to them both. “It’s harder than it looks.”

Chris laughed and continued picking.

They stopped after a time to eat lunch. Both had stripped their shirts mid morning, pulling the sweat soaked linen off and hanging them over a bush near the shore.

Lance had been distracted after that. More than once, he caught himself following the ripple of muscle just under Chris’s skin as he pulled the nettle. More than once, he absentmindedly reached out his hand while his eyes were trained on Chris’s back, only to hiss and pull back, sucking the offending finger into his mouth and scowling at the plant.

“Your hands okay?” Chris asked as they rested.

Lance nodded.

“Let me see.”

“No, really, they’re fine.”

“Now.”

Lance sighed and held out his hands. Chris whistled, long and low. “Woah.”

Lance looked down at his hands. “It’s not that bad.” He really didn’t think it was. Sure, they were a little swollen, but not that much.

“You’ll feel it later. S’ok though, I brought numbweed.”

“But then I won’t be able to feel my hands.”

“You’ll want it, trust me.” Chris looked up into Lance’s face. He lifted a hand and ran it along Lance’s hairline and Lance tried to control the shiver of reaction to Chris’s touch.

“This from Thread?” Chris asked.

Lance lifted his own hand to the spot that Chris was running his finger over. The scar was small, just a patch of skin on his right temple that was slightly raised from the skin surrounding it.

“Yeah, from that first time.”

“That’s the hardest part, you know.” Chris didn’t meet Lance’s eyes, only stared at the hand still at Lance’s temple.

“What?”

“As a Weyrlingmaster. Watching you all go out for the first time. Get hurt.”

Lance thought of Jacob and frowned. “I imagine.”

“I really hope you don’t.” Chris dropped his hand from Lance’s forehead. “Well, shall we go?”

Three hours later, the throbbing in Lance’s hands had reached an unbearable level.

“Okay,” he whimpered, slumping on the ground near Chris. “Numbweed.”

Chris smirked but went for his bag, pulling the small jar out. “Over here.” He gestured toward the ground in front of him.

Lance moved over in front of Chris and held out his hands. Chris took the right one first. Lance cradled the left to his chest as Chris carefully massaged the salve into Lance’s hand.

Lance closed his eyes and savored the feel of Chris’s hands while he still had sensation. He moaned with relief when he felt the hand numb completely.

Chris quickly wiped his hands on his discarded shirt and reached for Lance’s other hand. He repeated the treatment and wiped his hands again.

“Guess that’s it for today.”

“Why?”

Chris held up his hands and nodded toward Lance’s. “You can’t pick what you can’t feel,” he said.

Lance shrugged and probably squeezed to hard to pick up his shirt, but he couldn’t feel it so he didn’t really think it mattered. He followed Chris back to the beach and his dragon.

The rest of the afternoon Lance spent trying not to be too obvious about watching Chris.

They both stripped down and joined the dragons in another swim. Chris told Lance to keep an eye on his hands, because he wouldn’t know it if he cut himself on a rock right now.

So Lance watched his hands and Chris and, on occasion, his dragon, whose frolicking made him giggle.

So warm and cool and wet! she said, leaping from the water to dive back under. Her hide seemed brighter, almost glowing in the sharp afternoon sun, and Lance admired its brilliant hue.

I can leap higher! she called, presumably to Rahleth, as she moved out to deeper waters. She dove under again and then surfaced in an explosion of water, leaping a dragon-length above the surface before diving under again.

“I think Rahleth’s manhood…dragonhood? Is threatened.” Chris laughed.

Lance grinned at the other man. “She’s kicking his tail.”

“He hasn’t even started yet.”

Lance laughed and splashed Chris, slapping his hands around sloppily in the cool, clear water.

Chris growled and retaliated, though his aim was off due to the same lack of sensation that Lance suffered.

After swallowing more water than he sprayed, Lance called a truce and headed for shore. He spread himself lazily on the beach, waiting for the sun to dry him. Chris followed and Samarth and Rahleth followed him, stretching side by side in the warm sand.

Lance fell asleep as the sun set, without dinner, without a blanket or a shelter of any sort, and never noticed or cared. He woke the next morning with a thin, woven blanket covering him, so he knew Chris had woken up at least once.

“Couldn’t let that pretty skin burn,” he heard as he shifted around.

Lance rolled over onto his stomach and propped himself up on his elbows, grinning sleepily at Chris. “Morning,” he said and yawned.

Chris sat near a fire, close to the line of trees, and stirred a small pot of warm cereal. Lance’s stomach growled appreciatively at the scent.

“Hungry?”

Lance nodded and yawned again, sitting up in the small indent he’d made in the sand.

Chris had put his old shirt back on and held Lance’s out to him as he sat down near the small fire. He looked over to his dragon and found her still dozing, her green hide sparkling in the morning sunlight.

“She seems so much brighter down here,” Lance said to Chris.

Chris glanced over his shoulder at Samarth and nodded carefully. “She does…strange.” He turned back to Lance. “How’re your hands?”

Lance looked down at his hands and flexed them, testing. “Better. They’re not as swollen, anyway.”

Chris reached for Lance’s arm, pulling Lance’s hand up near his face. “Yeah, it’s definitely gone down. Up for some more picking?”

Lance nodded.

Lance still didn’t have any sort of technique mastered and ending up pricking himself more times than he could count. When they stopped for lunch Chris pulled his hands into his lap again. “They’re worse this time.”

Lance nodded. “They hurt more than they did yesterday.”

“You’re adding injury to injury, that’s why.”

“Yeah. Can we do numbweed now? I’m sorry, I can’t pick anymore.”

Chris looked at the amount of nettle they’d already picked. “Yeah, we’re doing good for today. You’re fast, if sloppy in your technique.” Chris grinned at Lance.

“Whatever, whatever. Just numb me,” he said, nearly writhing with impatience.

“Okay, fine.” Chris got the jar again and massaged the salve into Lance’s hands.

Lance wiggled his fingers as he felt them numb and followed Chris back to the beach. He was so preoccupied with pinching his fingers that he ran into Chris’s back when he stopped.

Chris seemed not to notice, only stared at the still sleeping Samarth. “Shells,” he muttered under his breath.

Lance looked over at his dragon. She was still sleeping but her hide was even brighter now than it had been this morning. He remembered the talk all the green dragons had been given, on color tones and mating flights. He turned to Chris. “Is she…”

“Yes, I’m sorry. Yes.” He tossed the basket of nettle aside and pulled out some of the oil he kept for Rahleth’s hide. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s just me. You should have others…there should be a choice…”

Lance shook his head, trying to clear it. His world seemed to spin, whirling faster and faster until he was the only fixed point on a rapidly tilting planet...

…until Samarth stretched sensuously, waking from her long nap. Lance’s head snapped around and he fixed his green eyes on her whirling orange. He felt her in his mind with a startling immediacy and their link, their unspoken bond became the fixed point, the one stable place in a world that spun, that confused him, that he needed to escape. He knew, without a doubt, what she wanted.

Chris pressed against his back and grabbed his arms. “There’s a wild herd not far from here; Rahleth saw it yesterday. We can’t go but we can send her. You’ve got to stay with her, Lance. It’ll be harder since you’re not there, but you can do it.”

Lance nodded and pulled himself away from Chris, breaking any contact between their bodies. “I can do it.”

“I know.” Chris reached out to run his hand down Lance’s arm. He pulled back and looked down at it. “I can’t feel my hands. Fuck.”

Lance looked down at his own hands, but he couldn’t see how that would be a problem for him. He looked up again as he felt Samarth jump from the ground, downsweeping with her powerful wings.

Food! she said. He felt the ache in her belly through their connection, and clutched at his own stomach.

Chris says there’s a herd near here. But you can’t eat anything, Sam.

I don’t need Rahleth’s help! I’m too fast, too strong. He can’t get me!

Lance felt her heavy blood, thick with excitement and lust, coursing through her body. His own felt languid and overcharged. He heard her excited call as she found the herd and flew low over them, picking out the fastest, the best.

She pounced on it and he watched through her eyes as she flew to the edge of the open field and killed the animal.

Blood it! You cannot eat! Lance called to her.

But I want!

NO!

He felt her grudging submission to his will as she drank from the warm body beneath her. She looked over and saw Rahleth waiting on the far edge of the field. Samarth sprung aloft and selected another animal, blooding it as she had before.

The warm, fresh blood filled her belly and Lance felt his own soothed. Samarth looked again for Rahleth, daring him, with a flick of her tail, to follow as she threw herself aloft, beating her wings as fast as she could, as high as she could, until the wind cooled her heated skin and the world was far below her.

The physical sensations overtook Lance. He was more her than he was himself. He stripped off his pants and shirt; his oversensitive skin demanding release from the cloth. He didn’t notice or pay attention to the other body on the beach, lost in his own pursuit of the green dragon.

Samarth craned her neck around, looking for the larger brown dragon to check her lead. She didn’t see him behind her. She turned her head back around and felt her long, thin neck tangle with another, felt the sun blotted out by a larger body as he entwined his limbs with hers. She struggled only a little when he wrapped his wings around them both. She submitted completely as they fell.

Lance came back to himself as small, warm fingers grabbed at his hips, running up and down his sweat-slicked thighs.

“Could you just, your knee…” Chris muttered, pulling at Lance’s leg. He licked the back of Lance’s neck and Lance shuddered, shifting around to comply.

Lance pulled his knee beneath him, allowing Chris to angle their bodies. He groaned as he felt Chris slide inside him and pushed back eagerly, seeking his own release. He reached down with a numb hand to stroke himself but found Chris already there, his hand slick with the oil he’d pulled earlier from his pack.

He bit his lip as Chris pulled out and pushed back in, over and over. Chris pumped his hand in time with his thrusts and Lance came with a loud cry, his body already stimulated by his dragon’s lust. He panted, trying to catch his breath as Chris thrust one more time and groaned, collapsing on Lance’s back. It was a while before either of them moved.

“Like this, right?” Lance grabbed a fistful of nettle in his hand and pulled. He grinned triumphantly when he didn’t stick himself on the plant.

Chris looked over and nodded. “Yeah, you’ve got it.” He turned back to his plant.

Lance stared at Chris’s bare back for several moments. He’d woken from a much-needed nap only an hour ago to find Chris gone, already back at the clearing. He refused to talk to Lance, to say much of anything about the flight or what happened between them. Lance thought he might still feel guilty.

Chris turned back. “We’re leaving tomorrow morning. We’ve got more than enough now.”

Lance nodded and turned back to the plant before him, using his newly acquired nettle-picking skills to avoid any more pricks. He didn’t say anything to Chris for the rest of the afternoon.

Lance was called into Howard’s fighting wing the day they got back. He’d been sitting with the other weyrlings at dinner but his attention wasn’t on the conversation around him. He couldn’t pull his eyes away from Chris, as if the other man had some sort of hold on him now. Chris would look up and catch his eyes and Lance would turn away, smile at something Drew or Justin had said, only to turn back moments later.

“Lance?”

Lance turned to his other side, where Justin sat.

“Is everything all right?”

Lance nodded and made a conscious effort to not turn back to Chris. He didn’t know how obvious it already was, but he didn’t want anyone to know of his preoccupation.

He joined the conversation occurring around him, which was mainly focused on the impending promotion into the fighting wings. The weyrlings thought of nothing else; all were eager to fully join the ranks of dragon fighters.

He jumped when he felt a hard hand grip his shoulder. He looked up and met Howard’s eyes. “The Weyrleader has allowed me to ride with you,” he said, smiling down at Lance.

Lance stared for a moment, not comprehending the phrase until Howard repeated the same to Drew on his other side and Shane, further down the table.

Lance stood as Drew did and both awkwardly helped each other over the bench seat as they followed Howard back to their wing’s table. Lance looked over to where Chris sat and met Chris’s eyes. He couldn’t help smiling at him even though he was still a little hurt and confused and he knew that Chris smiled back because he couldn’t help it either. The moment was too special to ruin with misunderstandings.

The next night Lance went to talk to Justin. They’d been friends once, before Lance had left as an apprentice to the Tanner Craft. They were learning, again, who they were, but weren’t yet where they had been.

He was surprised to find Justin still up, sitting on the ledge outside his weyr, next to his golden dragon. Lance smiled over at Ayleth, though she was asleep. She was so beautiful, so much like Justin. They were truly meant to be.

“Hello?” he heard Justin call.

“Justin, it’s Lance.”

He sat next to Justin on the ledge and leaned over to scratch Ayleth’s eye ridge. The dragon rumbled in her sleep, butting her large head against Lance’s hand. He grinned and turned back to Justin.

“Why are you still up?” Justin asked. “Don’t you have Fall tomorrow?”

Lance nodded. "Yes, but I needed to talk to you."

“What is it?”

Lance pulled up a knee and wrapped his arm around it. “Samarth rose two days ago.”

“Rose?”

Lance met Justin’s confused eyes. He knew they hadn’t told Justin everything, but not even this? “To mate,” he said and sighed.

Justin nodded and looked out over the Weyr. It was quiet this late; everyone had gone to bed.

Lance nudged him in the side. “Aren't you going to ask me who flew her?”

Because he was watching for it this time, he saw Justin’s confusion at the question. He was surprised that Justin continued to play along, instead of asking questions from someone who obviously knew what went on.

“Who flew her?” Justin asked as he ducked his head, tucking his chin to his chest.

Lance told him more about Samarth’s rising, that Rahleth had flown her, but it was obvious to Lance that Jessica hadn’t told him everything yet, that Justin didn’t fully know what the mating flight entailed.

He talked a bit more, just making small talk, until Justin yawned and leaned back a bit, resting on his hands and slouching more. Lance took the hint and thanked him and left, resolved to talk to Chris but uncertain of what to say or how to say it.

We did good today, Samarth said as she landed gently on her ledge. It was early afternoon still; the Fall had come that morning.

“We did.” Lance slid to the ground and turned to remove the fighting straps.

We’ll do it again tomorrow?

“Yes,” he said as he stored them in the corner.

What is wrong?

Lance smiled softly and stroked her neck. “Nothing, sweet.”

Samarth snorted, a sure sign that she didn’t believe him, and settled onto her ledge.

“I need to go to the floor please, darling.”

Samarth bent her neck so Lance could climb back on and dropped quickly to the ground.

He waved her aloft. “I’ll call you.”

I’ll come back.

Chris was sitting in the far corner of the dining hall when Lance came in to find him. He was lingering over a late lunch but Lance could see when he drew closer that Chris was really simply pushing the food around, making small piles here and there.

“Chris?”

Chris looked up at his name and met Lance’s eyes.

“Can we talk?”

Chris sighed and pushed his plate away, gesturing to the seat across from him.

Lance looked over his shoulder at all the people still in the hall. “Not here,” he said.

Chris nodded as he stood and followed Lance out to the darker hallways beyond the dining cavern. He stood back from Lance, placing as much space as he could between them in the small hallway. “Yes?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Lance took a deep breath, gathering the courage in himself to say what he needed to, what he had to, to make Chris understand. He began quietly, looking down and away from Chris because he couldn’t say what he needed to if he looked into Chris’s eyes. “I don’t…I don’t know quite how to say this. Because I’m not really sure exactly how it works here. I like you, Chris. I liked having Rahleth fly Samarth and I’d like for it to happen again. I just…I want to be your mate. I don’t know how else to say it.”

He ended on a slight rush of breath, trying to get everything out before he lost his nerve and didn’t say anything at all. He felt his heart speed up, beating too fast and hard as he waited for a response, anything, from Chris. Lance jumped a little when he felt a hand brush his. He looked up into Chris’s warm, brown eyes.

His face was blank, unreadable in the shadows of the hall. “You aren’t mad?” he asked and his voice sounded choked, like he was biting out the words.

Lance could still feel his heart pounding in his throat and he didn’t know why Chris couldn’t hear it. They were standing close enough. “About what?”

Chris shrugged, a small, sad smile on his face. “About the flight. I didn’t know if you’d want someone else there, if you’d want competition. I was the only option and that limited you…”

Lance shook his head quickly, stepping forward in his haste to interrupt Chris. He turned his hand in Chris’s and twined their fingers. “No, no. I only wanted you.”

The blank control fell from Chris’s face, revealing worry, pain, relief, and something like love. Chris tugged Lance forward, into his arms. “Good. I don’t know what else…good. Just good,” he whispered into Lance’s ear, his lips brushing the warm skin of Lance’s cheek. Lance could feel Chris’s heart then, and knew it beat as quickly as his did. They beat together as Chris crushed Lance’s body to his.

The world around Lance faded, became a swirl of colors and light and the only fixed point was him until Chris pressed his lips to Lance’s. They became the center, the calm, and all the world was still.

[end]

Thanks to Allen, Mariah, and Regina for the betas.
You girls rock!