The New Weyrleader (1/3)

Writers: Avery, Corrin, Duskdog, Halyonix, Heather, Len, Sia, Suzee
Date Posted: 1st August 2024

Characters: Saibra, X'eri, I'serin, R'enh, M'kayre, T'gyrlan, E'kavas, J'nne, L'val
Description: Chioneth rises and crowns a new Weyrleader at Dragonsfall.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 1, day 3 of Turn 12

Saibra

The air was stifling. Stillness permeated the triple cliffs of
Dragonsfall Weyr. An undercurrent of unrest throbbed beneath the
placid surface.

Chioneth was perched beside the Star Stones, her jasmine hide glowing
like a beacon at sea. Saibra stood on her weyrledge, surveying the
stillness. The males of the Weyr clearly sensed that the senior queen
was nearly ready as the cliffs were filled with bronze and brown
bodies.

**No browns,** Saibra thought to herself. She hadn't minded a brown
winner when she and Chioneth had been junior queenriders, but now that
the leadership of the Weyr depended on them, only the best bronze
would do. Only the best clutch would do, and _that_ required the
dragon with the best stamina.

Saibra turned for the stairs and as she did, silhouetted behind her,
Chioneth rose onto her haunches, spread her wings, and screamed at the
sky. The challenge ricocheted through the cliffs of Dragonsfall. The
punctuated shriek broke the stillness, sending dragons scurrying as
the senior queen dove for the feeding pens like a golden dart.

**Control yourself.** Saibra's words were ironclad, her will
unflinching as Chioneth struggled against it, wanting only to tear and
shred and drink the red hot blood under her talons.

Mnoranth rose from their shared couch knowing her rise was now. He
felt the pull of desire and blooded his own kill with the other
hopeful chasers. There would be time enough to show them who was
best.

R'enh trotted down to the flight rooms and just touched Saibra on the
shoulder to let her know he was there.

Aluneth hissed and rattled his wings as he watched Chioneth blood her
kill. In a room far away, I'serin closed his eyes and calmly clenched
his fists together as he took a steadying breath, before releasing it
as he resigned himself to his dragon's decision and the lust that
would no doubt overwhelm his senses shortly. He disliked mating
flights, disliked those blackout moments when he wasn't in control but
he would _not_ inhibit Aluneth. **Fly,** he thought, throwing fierce,
unselfish support behind his dragon. Then, he rose from his seat and
went to find Saibra.

Bhelth had been alight with anticipation for two days now, excitement
rippling just beneath the surface as he watched Chioneth glow a little
bit brighter every day. The bronze's excitement wasn't just lust. He
_loved_ to fly, to feel the stretch of his wings, to be pushed and
challenged, and his joy bled into M'kayre until M'kayre could almost
believe that it was his own. He had shared in his dragon's buzz
secondhand, a muted-but-definitely-present electricity tingling in his
skin, the pleasure-pain of wanting and waiting and wanting -- a good
feeling for a minute, for an hour, but edging dangerously towards
overstimulation by the time the gold finally decided that it was her
time. It was a _relief_, this, heading down to the flight room with
his pulse thrumming in his throat and his hair already a little
(regrettably) sweaty -- action, finally, the reckoning, _finally_, and
soon they would all know the ending, wouldn't they?

He didn't bother looking at the faces of his rivals. He knew most of
them already, or knew who he expected to be there, and didn't care one
sharding bit about any bronzeriders who may have come to try their
luck from elsewhere. Non-entities. All that really mattered right now
was Bhelth -- eyes rapt on Chioneth even as he blooded a kill of his
own, muscles gathered tight beneath him, ready to drop the beast and
spring the instant the gold made a move.

Young Jâ€™nneâ€™s heart felt like it was both trying to burst out of his
chest andâ€"at the same timeâ€"try to choke him by threatening to jump
into his throat. At the sound of Tribethâ€™s bugle he knew he had no
choice but to race to the Flight room with the other bronze riders and
one gold. They all looked so confident, all these other bronze riders.
Jâ€™nne felt completely inadequate compared to each and every one.

Tribeth felt no same mood. Young and full of confidence, he leapt to
join the other bronzes, his eyes only on the beautiful queen.

It was too soon. Hanassath had only been cleared to fly again 5 months
ago. 5 months wasn't long enough to rebuild all the muscle he'd lost
in his turns of being grounded. He'd only recently rejoined the
wings-- but none of that mattered to the bronze. Instinct ruled him
now. The gold, his queen, was rising. Every fiber of his being sang
out to chase, to breed. He joined the others in the pens, blooding and
waiting, eyes wild and tail lashing.

T'gyrlan, for his part, hurried into the flight room. He has no
illusions about his chances this time, but he steeled himself to give
his Hanassath all the support he could muster.

Roquath always knew who was getting close to rising. Other riders
might have considered it a special gift or a fun little quirk, but for
E'kavas it was little more than a hindrance. Every day there was a
different green starting to glow, and the brown kept a running tally
even when he wasn't thinking of taking off into the sky after them.
What his rider wanted hardly mattered; E'kavas' apathy for Flights was
considered about as much as the VTOLs darting through the summer air.

Chioneth, though, kept his attention in a way that the others didn't.
He sought the unattainable.

E'kavas' daughter snickered when Chioneth's scream echoed through the
weyr, and E'kavas shot her a tired look as he fumbled with his boots
and staggered out the door. "Good luck, Weyrleader!" She called after
him.

L'val had known it was happening and gave up on all work. Chioneth's
voice had been unusual in the morning, and the bronzes and browns all
echoed watchfulness. Kyverth was shielding him from the worst of it,
but that wouldn't last once the queen was awake, he knew. Green
flights could be willed aside, golds could not, even if he wasn't
participating.

It was a relief as she awoke, even as the headache and need slammed
into him. He felt it doubled, tripled, rebounding around as Chioneth
leapt and screamed - the gold's voice loudest and most demanding and
her need to assert herself slamming into his chest, multiple bronzes
and browns joining in a choir of desire. It was almost hard to hear
his own lifemate through it, but he was able to gasp out, **Blood to
catch!** as he stumbled to the flight room, already tangled in the
dragons' need.

Saibra gave a measured glance around the room. There were several good
men present. Several were worthy and prepared to lead the Weyr. Her
gaze lingered on R'enh for a moment. Her weyrmate was her first
preference, but her preference had never resulted in him winning
before. She hoped Mnoranth was wily enough to catch Chioneth today.

She nearly looked past E'kavas before her eyes snapped back to him.
Her lips quirked with amusement. She felt he probably didn't want to
be there, but sometimes a dragon would not be denied.

Of course, there was M'kayre. She'd known the day he'd sat beside her
at the dinner table that he and his bronze would be participating in
Chioneth's flight. She didn't know how well they would get along as a
working pair, but she could not deny his pedigree and readiness for
the job of Weyrleader.

Then there was I'serin. He was physically a bit boyish for her own
personal tastes, but she couldn't fault him as a dragonrider.

The addition of X'eri in the group made Saibra arch an eyebrow. As one
of her wingriders, she knew him well, and he was _certainly_
physically her type - she had no doubt they would enjoy themselves
during the flight, but was he ready to lead a Weyr?

And then finally her eyes landed on L'val. **I wouldn't mind waking up
to _that_,** she thought with a little grin to herself.

Chioneth threw her final herdbeast down and leaped into the sky.

The ground fell away so fast as Aluneth took off the I'serin had a
moment of vertigo, feeling both the wind caressing his wings as he
rose and the ground sturdily beneath his human feet. **Fly,** he
encouraged one last time as I'serin, before surrendering himself to
Aluneth.

Mnoranth leaped after the great shining jasmine beauty who was his
heart's desire. Certainly he'd caught other golds but this one had
eluded him until now.

Bhelth _flew_, his exultation almost overpowering his lust in those
first beautiful moments carried aloft by the power of his own body.
Like M'kayre, he gave no real thought to his rivals just yet. They
were there, they must be outmaneuvered, but he had no interest in
attaching names to faces and hides in this moment. All that mattered
was the prize that was before him.

Hanassath lunged into the air, wings beating furiously. Stamina was
not his forte right now. His best chance was making this a fast and
short flight. He snapped at any rivals that came too close in the
chaos of flight. Not even his clutchmate, Roquath, was a friend right
now.

Kohath's participation in the flight had surprised X'eri, but the
bronzerider found himself just as eager as his bronze to win. Had
there ever been a deaf Weyrleader? He wasn't sure, but at that moment,
he didn't think his lack of hearing had any bearing on the matter at
hand....

Last updated on the August 1st 2024

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The New Weyrleader (1/3)