Weighty Matters (during Aliseth's flight)

Br'son leaned back on his elbows and lifted his face to the searing burn of the midday sun. Try as he might, the young Weyrsenior couldn't let go of the worries that dominated his mind. Right now, his 'second's queen flew above their Weyr, choosing her mate. However, she'd just banished all of the traditionally colored males from her flight, and that was bound to cause no end of headaches for Br'son. After all they'd done, to try and emphasize that they were one team...

Well. What was done was done. And in truth, Br'son chafed against the idea of telling a queen that she must allow this or that dragon to chase her. It was just that... well... it certainly was inconvenient timing, politically.

His lovely queen, Yllaveth, shifted in the red sand next to him. I have invited Maraxith to join us, she said. Gaveth is busy with Eniseth, and Maraxith's rider's company will be good for you.

That is a good idea, Br'son replied. Casriel has a brilliant political mind. She might very well know how to tackle this problem. We can discuss it while we wait for the flight to finish.

Yllaveth snorted. Certainly you may, if "discussing things" is what you wish to do with a female as well-built as Casriel's rider, she said, with a teasing bit of skepticism. However, it seems to me that there are far more interesting things that you might do.

Yllaveth! Br'son laughed, slightly scandalized. Gaveth is your mate! And Sidran is...

Not here, The queen filled in succinctly. And Gaveth will likely not be my mate forever. I will rise soon enough, and Maraxith has a better chance than most.

Br'son just covered his face with his hands and laughed. Yllaveth flipped her wings to her back in smug satisfaction. Her rider was smiling. Mission accomplished.

Perhaps, Aliseth could benefit from my suit but I have no desire for it. Let one of my bloodline, Tsaveth, Fillioth, Vorganth or Osgilath win her heart and wing this day. No shadow can obscure the glory of Titanium. Maraxith's voice was as smooth as plum dark velvet as he slipped from between. He gracefully entered a spiral for his descent. As he set down, Casriel reached back to pull her hair free of its ponytail. The golden curls spiraled down her shoulders and back, the wind playfully tugging at him. Casriel had to bite back a laugh at how romantic it must have looked, the right gust of wind at the most opportune time. She swung a long, muscular leg over Maraxith's neck and leaped skillful to the ground. The amours of the queenflight made her jacket hot and bothersome. She shed it slowly as she walked, tossing it upon a rock as she strode up the strand.

Casriel has important news to share. Maraxith chose this time of just a handful of times in his life to address both his Senior Queen and her rider. He cocked his dark plum head as he looked from Yllaveth to Br'son.

"Br'son." Casriel sounded breathy, more sultry than she meant. She blinked hard.

"I have to tell you something important."

Br'son tried not to stare, he did.  But when Casriel stripped her flight jacket off, her undertunic clung to her muscular curves in a way that made things low in his body tighten.  He tried to keep his eyes up at her face, but that was no good either.  Her beautiful golden hair flew, wind-tossed around her exquisite face.  His mouth went suddenly dry with desire, and he found his own clothing far too warm and confining.  

Stop pushing, Yllaveth, Br'son snapped mentally.  Casriel prefers women!

I do nothing.  I merely watch and return Maraxith's gracious greeting, Yllaveth said mildly to her rider alone.  Her mind voice carried an undertone of humor, though, at Br'son's discomfiture.  Maraxith's rider may prefer women, but she has made her interest in you plain enough.  You fight too hard, for no good reason.  Like Aliseth raging against old guard males.

Br'son refused to dignify that jab with a response, and instead got awkwardly to his feet.  "Uh, hi," he said.  "I heard.  I mean, about Aliseth banishing the old guard males."

I despair of him sometimes, Maraxith.  We are so much more sensible about our mating habits than our riders.  You wish to be my mate, therefore, you will chase when I call.  I do not understand why riders must complicate things so.  
Yllaveth sent this playful, flirtatious message on an open enough channel that Br'son could hear it, and to his chagrin, the Weyrsenior felt his cheeks begin to blush.

Casriel's eyes were all watercolors, glazing blues and greens. She, so often intimidating and sharp, was all gentle motion and soft lips as she approached.

"There is more." Casriel said, her voice husky. She came to sit at his feet, close enough for her arm to brush his. The contact sparked like a lightning strike and she gasped ever so softly.

"As you know I have kept close clutch records ever since Maraxith first caught Parazath. I have..." Casriel paushed.

'Say it, you have a duty. To Pern!' she snapped at herself.

"I have reasonable evidence to suggest only a bronze can sire a Titanium upon another Titanium. A cobalt may not be able to sire one. Nature may have provided us the shadow queens as an answer to the nature lack of queen dragons. Time has shown that gold queens always clutch more during a Pass and bronzes always get more eggs on a gold queen than a brown. I have a theory that smoke dragons might be the answer to less bronzes in the world but nothing to support that yet . There is still so much we do not know about Shadow and Smoke dragons." Casriel said, carefully measuring her voice so that none of her information was rushed or mumbled.

"Brown dragons cannot sire gold eggs upon gold dragons. Only bronzes can. That might also mean that only Cobalts can sire shadows. I'll get an idea of what Aliseth can throw once her clutch hatches but as of yet, we do not even have a winner. We must have at least one of the shadow queens accepting bronze, brown and blue chasers. Yllaveth, I mean no disrespect when I say this. The Bright Hope clutch only had one Old Guard hatchling, brown Finnedath. No bronzes, no blues and no greens! If we only breed inside our colors of Titanium, Cobalt, Shadow and Smoke...we may loose the Old Guard completely in just half a dozen dragon generations. So is my theory." Casriel said, breathing a little hard. The queen flight's amours were loud now and seemed to drown out her good sense and logic.

Yes, I will always answer your call, Yllaveth. He is young yet, all our riders are when you think about it. Casriel cares more for him every day. She sees hope in him and you. Maraxith rumbled low in his throat, encouraged by Yllaveth and generally pleased at the rise of his rider's desire and the show of her razor intellect.

Br'son had to fight to focus on Casriel's words, to make sense of her theories. It got more and more difficult by the minute, especially as she, too, began to look flushed.

"So," he said, struggling to articulate anything other than his desire to feel the texture of her skin. "You think that one of the bronzes should fly Yllaveth next? I don't know if I can restrict her like that during her flight. I don't want to inhibit her instincts..."

Br'son looked down and found his hand playing idly with one of her golden curls of hair. He didn't remember reaching out, didn't remember touching her at all, but...

Blast it all, anyway.

He leaned in, breathed just above her lips. "Will you kiss me, Casriel?" he asked.

Her eyes met his and his words seem to melt the last of her cool control. She said nothing but sighed in warm desire and leaning in, pressed the full of her mouth against his own. Her momentum was hardly halted as she rose smoothly to straddle his lap, her hands rising to curl her fingers in his short hair. She moaned, her mouth and stomach a rush of pleasure and she arched against Br'son. All her desire, all her wanting and need rose to cover him. In her gem toned eyes was all that desire and beneath it, devotion, loyalty, loss and acceptance.

"Yes," she said when she finally came up for air. "I will kiss you. I will cover you with my mouth and no, I don't want a bronze to fly Yllaveth. Maraxith will fly for her and I mean him to win. I would be your lover, your Wingleader and Weyrleader and I would have you be mine where no man ever has been." she moaned.

Br'son's eyes widened as one single word penetrated the fog of lust that had overtaken him.

"None?" He asked, even as his lips tangled with hers. "Casriel, ever? Are... Are you sure?"

She thought for a moment and remembered having T'kal after Anarath had risen. There was another, a male greenrider from Eastern back when they had lived there.

"I have never taken a man outside the mating lust. To slake a need, to celebrate Maraxith's catching. You, Br'son. You were the first man to even shine as brightly to me as Latia....as Garrah. I never thought to see another as I saw Garrah," Casriel's voice wavered and despite herself, her eyes welled.

"Let alone a man! Let alone, my Weyrsenior. Is it not plain to you, darling? I would lay Pern at your feet, if you would let me. Since that first night you banded us all together to make a Weyr, I have loved you!"

Br'son knew that he should be troubled by these revelations. He knew that they spelled nothing but trouble for him, for his relationship with Sidran, for the Weyr. But in that moment, with her beautifully golden curls twisting around them both in the high desert wind...

Br'son didn't care.

He cupped her face with his hand and answered her lip to lip as the the flight lust washed over them, and the unshielded sun alone stood witness to their communion.

((Fade?))

Casriel fell into his eyes and her world washed bright with pleasure. The only darkness was the watching face of her beloved Maraxith, who crooned his pleasure to see his rider so elated.

(Fade to Black.