The Skies Burn Gold

Writers: Aaron, Corrin, Devin, Duskdog, Halyonix, Heather, Iluva, Shawna, Sia
Date Posted: 27th May 2025

Characters: Nidre, Y'dran, S'kand, Th'reyos, Z'ku, T'gyrlan, E'ben, O'rosin, K'leriac, N'tan
Description: Jossenth flies!
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 8, day 15 of Turn 12

Nidre

**Well,** Nidre said flatly, putting her work aside and ambling outside as she felt Jossenth _finally_ stretch and rise after most of an afternoon spent wallowing in lazy heat, exchanging flirtations with the suitors whom she knew had been watching her. **You couldn’t have waited until I had a drink or two?**

}:When it’s time, it’s time, and it’s not time until it’s time!:{ Jossenth replied, swooping down over the pens, taking great delight in whipping the beasts up into a frenzy before finally selecting one that she liked and falling upon it.

Despite the familiar amused tone, Nidre could feel the edge of hunger and intent just behind the gold’s words. **_Blood that,_** she insisted sharply. **You know better.**

}:I wasn’t going to eat it!:{ Jossenth insisted, sounding very much as if she definitely _was_ going to eat it if Nidre hadn’t caught her claw in the cookie jar, so to speak. There was, again, an edge behind the words -- a _pushback_, a _rebellion_, the looming threat of disobeying and doing as she wanted. But the part of her that wanted to just _get on with it_, assuage the heat rising in her, complied -- opening the beast’s throat with a bite that might have been considered delicate, if it hadn’t sent blood spraying directly into her face, regardless.

Seriaeth’s rumbling purr attracted Y’dran’s absent attention first. When it was followed by a low pulse of lust, the bronzerider laughed. **And who are we chasing today?** he queried lightly, thinking his bronze had eyes for a green.

}: Jossenth, :{ Seriaeth purred in answer.

Y’dran lifted one eyebrow, amused. Well, at least it wasn’t Panitath. Y’dran had no desire to be Weyrleader. Slipping his hands into his pockets, he ambled towards the flight rooms, joining the ring of eager riders.

The humid sea air did little to settle the dull ache that throbbed in K'leriac's leg. He'd always hated the heat, but now he had a real reason. Wasn't the heat and sea air supposed to be good for one's health? Ugh. At least the air was cooler in the infirmary. He shifted on the wooden bench awkwardly, trying to stretch out what he could of what remained of the offending leg. It was wrapped in cloth and carefully placed in the latest prototype of prosthetic leg-- a clever contraption of fitted leather and finely tooled bone. Or it might have been clever, had he not had a perfectly working leg barely two months ago to compare it against. The healer journeyman was excitedly scribbling notes in between asking him inane questions about comfort. He hadn't even walked in it yet.

And the pressure of Obrianth pushing deep into his mind.

}: She rises. :{ The bronze supplied like a tidal wave. }: Jossenth, she rises now. :{ A pause, a shiver of heat and electric tension crackled in the back of his skull. }: I will fly her. :{

K'leriac swallowed, throat dry. "Hey," He said, his voice rough and uncertain, "We need to stop."

The healer looked up, surprised, then nodded slowly when K'leriac didn't elaborate. "Of course. Do you need help getting back…?"

"No." K'leriac said quickly. He pulled the prosthetic off and handed it back. He wouldn't be able to make it far without practicing on the silly thing, and arriving to flightroom on his crutches was preferable to falling on his face partway there. His balance was still shit, his muscles still weak, and his pride even weaker. "I know the way."

Jagobroth eyed the other suitors with jealousy, even as he relished every moment of innuendo and teasing he shared with Jossenth before she had so elegantly began her blooding.

In the Dining Hall tucked in amongst the scantily clad and the devout klah drinkers, Th'reyos had been soaking up the heat of Dolphin Cove like a scruffy sponge. True, Dragonsfall was as much their home now as Vista Point had once been, but there was something to be said about _feeling_ at home, relaxed, at ease, like the heavy humidity and warmth were his natural habitat and all else mere adaptation. Like being away at sea and returning to dry land for a short while.

But Zarkarth wasn’t content to dock for long, not when Jossenth’s siren song came swimming through the air.

Immediately he shadowed her path to the pens, blooding a beast of his own with far less delicacy and care than the queen, gulping greedily in anticipation even as Th’reyos spat his klah across the table.

**What the shell are you _doin’_?**

}:She’s Ours!:{ Zarkarth roared, blood flying from his teeth. It was a fiery declaration that held an edge of warning to any rising protest from his rider, or competitors.

Z’ku froze at his desk, the words on the hidework blurring as Xemroth’s lust hit him. It was so _strong_. **Who . . .?**

}:Jossenth Rises, and I will claim her!:{ Xemroth declared. Z’ku had been so absorbed in his work that he hadn’t noticed his dragon blooding. Now he crouched on the Heights, watching the glowing Queen with avid interest.

E’ben was relieved when he felt Tirlath’s decision to chase the rising queen, if only to break the tension that had been building in their bond as the brown watched the glowing gold.

O'rosin felt the shift of attention in Aeoluth, common enough when he considered a green rising and thought about chasing. He'd never actually moved far when he did, mostly content to investigate a moment before losing interest again. This time was different. He shook himself as he rose, taking off from his ledge to land on the weyr ridge to watch the feeding pens and the larger, older bronze and browns. }: Chase? :{ He asked.

O'rosin looked up from where he'd been working on fixing the stitching on Aeoluth's straps. **Chase? _Now_? Who? Oh-** He stared into the middle distance, flabbergasted at the glimpse of glimmering gold from the brown's eyes. **Couldn't pick one you could reasonably _win_ for your first one, huh?**

N’tan had been gardening when he felt the sudden insistent pull of Bastiath’s interest. There was still some dirt under his fingernails when he made it to the flight rooms, hardly his best look. Not that there was much worry that the brown would be successful. It took a particularly clever or lucky brown to win a goldflight, and Bastiath had never shown signs of being either.

The gold looked positively radiant -- if one could take radiant to mean “covered in blood and smug about it”. Her orange-gold hide shone in the afternoon sunlight, her wings flaring for dramatic effect as she bent her head to drink, tail flicking as if she were casually savoring a fine vintage. She raised her head, her scarred muzzle bloody, and looked over the suitors close enough to regard, and let out an undignified and decidedly unsexy chortle.

}:Come, it’ll be fun!:{ she challenged, tossing the ruined carcass aside and taking to the air.

Nidre eyed the riders who had begun to gather, tentatively prodding herself to see if any of them provoked any particular interest within her, but no -- she couldn’t say she had a preference, really. It was hard to consider it for long, though, as her thoughts slid sideways and Jossenth’s rose to the foreground, making it difficult to untwine her own feelings from her dragon’s.

The force of Tirlath’s feelings as the brown charged off his ledge and threw himself into the sky made E’ben nearly stumble as he appeared in the semi-circle of participants around Nidre. His sun-burnished skin was still flecked with sparkling bits of sand from his jog up the beach.

Seriaeth was not the first off the ledge but first did not matter. Only the last, only the final did. He quickly edged out an audacious brown with a snap of his wings that set the smaller dragon off course.

Aeoluth, green as he was, didn't expect the crack of wingsails to his left and startled like a runnerbeast, twisting awkwardly and nearly dropping from the sky in a way that made O'rosin's stomach lurch. Still, the brown beat his wings and chased after the group, intent on regaining lost air.

O'rosin, for his part, remained awkwardly close to the door and the wall, unsure exactly of what he was _supposed_ to be doing despite memorizing all the pamphlets R'lor gave him and all the 'practice' he had with R'fayne.

Jagobroth chased ever as always. The time for words was done, and now he would show Jossenth the power in his wings and the endurance in his hearts.

She rose with heat and hunger, he would chase with the same. Zarkarth knew Queens well enough not to let himself get smushed into the middle of the pack, letting the fire in his blood propel him while his mind stayed ever eager, ever watchful, dodging any attempts to force him out. Bronzes thought they were the be all and the end all of chasers here. Let them. Let them think he was just an ornament, an accessory, a mere admirer paying respect, driven by foolish desires. They'd know the truth soon enough. They'd not forget the name or sight or sound of Zarkarth when he won.

Xemroth followed with an eager roar. Today would be the day! He would finally catch a golden prize and sire many fine eggs. Z’ku looked at the Weyrwoman’s Second with new interest, _Xemroth’s_ interest, desire rising fast as his bronze climbed. They would show everyone how clever and strong they were.

}:I am the best, Jossenth! You will see!:{ Xemroth surged past an older bronze but let an overeager youngster fly ahead. It would not due to tire before the gold was ready to be claimed.

Tirlath, though a brown, was easily the size of the smaller bronzes; his pale, sandy brown hide stood out in stark contrast to those darker, brassier tones in the pack of males. Turns of well-conditioned muscles rippled beneath the gleam of his hide as he shouldered his way past a bronze ten Turns his junior.

Unlike some of the other chasers, Tirlath did not speak. He wanted to prove to Jossenth that he was worthy of her through his strength and endurance. He would prove with actions what could not be said with words.

Obrianth snapped and snarled at Tirlath as the brown surged forward. He would not be bullied by a _brown_, of all creatures, unlike the baby bronze that spiralled off course and fell behind the pack.

Bastiath had no finesse in his movements, or any hint of a plan in his overeager brown head, he simply charged after the gold with all his considerable strength but no thought at all to saving any energy for later in the flight.

Jossenth warbled happily, reveling in the feeling of the warmth of the sun on the tops of her wings and the rush of wind beneath them. Rising high was the best part -- no, no, diving was the best part! -- but first she had to rise and rise and rise! As she powered her way upwards sharply, she couldn’t resist a glance behind her to see how her suitors fared and if there were enough of them to satisfy her. She was not typically an overly-possessive or demanding queen, but this was _her_ time! Not anyone else’s! She wanted the best. The best of the best! The best of the best of the…

Well. The twitch in her… hrm, what did those books Nidre read say…_heated core_… urged her to be less picky and just get on with it. But it was far too soon for that!

}:Do try to keep up, sirs -- my bronzes, my browns! Do you enjoy the view from up here, or are you only looking at my beautiful tail and exquisite loins?:{

She twitched said beautiful tail for emphasis.

Those loins _were_ exquisite, it was true, and Jagobroth certainly did not mind the view. The twitch in her tail spurred him to renew and redouble his efforts. To catch her would be an unparalleled delight. In this moment, there was no other but her.

}:The view is unparalleled. Just as you are, joyous Jossenth!:{ Zarkarth crooned enthusiasm and encouragement back, wanting her higher before he finally claimed her, driven by the incessant _need_ to push them to their very limits before they could finally revel in the raw power and ecstasy of their union. To everyone else, bronze or brown, the fire in his blood brought vicious snarl after vicious snarl, vocalizations of ill-intent and wings thrown, limbs slapping, all in the spirit of feral, lust-fuelled competition.

Xemroth snarled as he neared a brown. A brown! How dare he think himself worthy of a Queen! But then his attention snapped back to Jossenth. }:You take us very high. This is good. You are lovely as you claim the skies, Jossenth! I will fly you well, and we will have a long fall.:{

As soon as she felt she had risen high enough, she dove -- only to break her dive suddenly and bank sharply to the left.

Aeoluth managed to get far-- very far, considering he was not built for speed nor agility, nor as practiced as he could have been. He couldn't dive or turn fast enough, and his wings and lungs already burned with the effort. He admitted defeat when the pack sailed away without him. Without any sense of sadness, Aeoluth dove groundwards, veering to splash into the ocean instead.

}:Ha, you thought you knew, but you were _wrong_!:{ Her voice would have carried merrily on the wind, if only it hadn’t been telepathic. Joyful determination, like an athlete truly enjoying the spirit of the competition but still aiming to win, suffused her tone. }:Oh, some of you were _not_ wrong! Very good! I need you strong _and_ smart, because it’s no fun otherwise! Let’s do… this!:{

She banked again quickly in the other direction and let herself keep cutting downwards at the same time, banking, banking, banking….

Bastiath, true to form, fell for the trick, and a belated attempt to change direction just resulted in a stomach dropping little tumble in the air until he recovered, now far from the back of the pack. He gave it another few seconds of chase before accepting the futility of trying to catch up now, his wings already starting to burn.

Tirlath had to duck another brown who had fallen for the queen’s trick and veered off course. Cutting his wings against the wind, the veteran brown swung his tail, the momentum sling-shotting him back on course and directly behind those lovely loins of Jossenth’s.

Seriaeth warbled back, answering joy for joy. }: _Very_ well played, my lovely queen. Shall we see what other tricks you have? :{ he purred. The less suitors, the better.

That trick had nearly thrown Jagobroth, but where he lacked in agility, he could sometimes compensate with brute strength. A weaker bronze may very well have pulled both wings, but not Jagobroth.

Zarkarth was close enough now to appreciate the intense amber glow leading them through the vast open sky, the vitality beating just beneath Jossenth's hide. It was incredibly pleasing that they were almost as close in size as they were from each other, the distance growing tantalizingly small.

But she wasn't caught until she was caught, wasn't _his_ until she _was_, and until then appreciation was a luxury, an added temptation that would only distract. Zarkarth charged after her, narrowly avoiding a big bronze. }:_Out_ of my way!:{ Then, watching that flick of her tail closely, angled the other way, climbing high where he thought she was headed.

Xemroth followed the first turn, nearly colliding with another male, but then he realized it was too soon. She must climb again. This was no green. So instead he moved higher, above most of the other males, passing a large bronze and then . . . Xemroth growled as realized that arrogant _brown_ had the same idea!

Just then there was an ear splitting roar from below the flight--a masculine, virile sound that rang with challenge and lust--as a new dragon tore up through the clouds to join the chase.

Bronze Hanassath still had sand on his gleaming hide, a remnant of the beach day he’d been enjoying on the coast with his rider, but none of that mattered now as he surged after Jossenth. He wasn’t of her Weyr. She wasn’t one of his queens, but he had heard her call as she flew over and everything else had fallen away--the sun on his hide, the lazy warmth of the waves, the Littles climbing on him--all obliterated by the singular, primal urge to chase and conquer.

He plunged into the pack on Jossenth’s heels, snarling and snapping at the Cove’s bronzes and browns as he jockeyed for space and position and the chance to claim their queen. }:Fly, golden one! Burn away the unworthy! I will remain!:{

Tirlath gave a disgruntled chuff at the new competitor, flying in all fresh and strong while the rest of them had been laboring to catch the wily queen. An _outsider_ no less! Letting the outrage burn through his veins, Tirlath bolted forward, using the burst of adrenaline to make his move.

}: You! :{ Obrianth roared both verbally and mentally, his lust-fueled rage centering on a singular rival from home. He'd only expected himself here, and instead found not one, but _two_ dragons he'd clashed with in the recent past (not recent enough for him to remember, but recent enough for K'leriac's familiarity and surprise to stoke fires that already burned). He banked hard, intent to bully one or both out of the air.

Oh, this was so much fun! She wanted to stretch it out as long as she could, but it couldn’t go on forever -- she would just burn up inside if she didn’t have one of these fine beasts soon.

The sacrifices a female must make when she can’t have her herdbeast and eat it, too.

}:Who is good enough? Who is the best?:{ she asked, diving again and then leveling out within a cloud bank, cool droplets of water vapor peppering her face and chest. And then, because she couldn’t resist looking, }:...who is even still here?:{

Bastiath had reluctantly wheeled to return to the Weyr, though his flight back was a much slower and lazy one than the flight out had been. In the Weyr below, N’tan shoved his way out of the slowly emptying room, leaving behind the remaining suitors.

A couple of browns and -- _gasp_! -- a bronze were retreating in shame back to the Weyr.

}:Disappointment!:{ Jossenth scolded, eyes front again. }:Please tell me the rest of you are better! You’d best be. I need you! I want, I want, I want…:{

In contrast to her words, she flapped hard and rose again, willing them to push themselves, to show who really wanted her the most.

This was it. If he was going to catch her, it had to be now. Jagobroth put everything he had left into one final push. He could not disappoint such a lovely gold, never. He would show her everything she deserved for climbing so high, for flying so gracefully, for shakin’ that tail so sensually.

Zarkarth burst from the cloud cover like a thunderclap, trailing a glittering spray of mist in his wake. There was no hesitation in him first or last, only heat and hunger and the wild, exultant rhythm of the chase. His ichor burned in his veins, every beat of his wings crying out her name. Jossenth. Brilliant, laughing, radiant Jossenth. She was joy incarnate. She _deserved_ to be caught by nothing less than the best. }:I am yours,:{ Zarkarth roared into the wind, his mindvoice oozing with devotion and desire. }:And you are _mine_!:{

}:I am the best!:{ Xemroth insisted, wings pumping hard as he showed his true speed. No holding back now, she was nearly ready!

}: Not so fast, little ambition, :{ Seriaeth warned Zarkarth with amusement as he maneuvered to block the brown from advancing any closer. }: This is a flight for those with stamina _and_ grace, :{ he said. He surged forward, eyes on the golden prize.

}:Is it?:{ Zarkarth rumbled with his own brand of amusement, one that barely belied his ire. His superiority was never in doubt. }:Then what are _you_ still doing here?:{ He laughed as his muscles bunched, his wings flaring wide - closing in. Seriaeth gave a soft growl and compensated.

}:Jossenth, I am young and strong.:{ Xemroth said. }:I will satisfy that urge within you. We will have many strong hatchlings.:{

Fighting his way to the front of the hostile pack, Hanassath tore free of the tangle of wings and shot up after Jossenth with fierce purpose. }:I remain,:{ he exulted, his dark, ardent call booming through the mental cacophony of suitors. }:You called for the best and I came. You want _me_.:{ His mindvoice with rich with fire and conviction, vibrant with the same primal certainty that had driven him so urgently from the sands to the skies.

}: Empty boasts, :{ Seriaeth said of Hanassath.

Tirlath ignored the males who were taunting one another. He would not waste his time on them. His eyes were solely focused on one body, one gloriously golden body that shone like the sun. Jossenth. She was all that mattered. Except there was one obstacle still ahead of him…. Snapping his mighty jaws at Hanassath The Intruder, the older brown lunged for the lovely queen and for the first time, he called to her. }:Jossenth!:{

Obrianth threw himself into the dive with ferocity, clawed forelimbs stretched as though he might reach her from lengths away. He had not flown like this since K’leriac’s injury. He had not chased since his rider had become something else, something broken, something unfinished. In this, he did not need to be gentle nor careful. This-- this was wholeness. This was power. This was wind and sun and power beneath his wings. No pain, no worry, no endless waiting for something that wouldn't come.

Just him. Just her.

Just the sky.

Obrianth roared his challenge to the remaining chasers, singling out Seriaeth with particular venom as he carved a tight arc behind Jossenth. }: She is not yours! She is not any of yours! She will know me! :{

Zarkarth sensed Obrianth’s approach and growled, angling his wings to slice sideways through the air. Let the familiar bronze tangle with Seriaeth - he had no interest in that mess. Catching a backdraft, he slid neatly into place beside Hanassath to snarl rage at this interloper: a cheater, trying to take the prize without earning her.

Now he reached for Jossenth with all he had, in might and in mind, untamed, unwilling to be mastered - unless it was by _her_. Only her touch, her flaming hide against his could command him. }:I’m here,:{ Zarkarth said, this call soft, thrilling, secretive. An invitation to share something only between them. }:Let's show them all, Jossenth.:{

So many strong males. Jossenth was pleased. She’d had so much fun, and they’d risen to the occasion -- oh yes they had, literally and figuratively -- and if she’d still had the mind for it, she would have stretched this joy out forever.

But her body wouldn’t be denied. She ached for a _finish_, her heated and swirling thoughts lingering on several of them -- favorites here in this moment, at least, each of them enticing in their own way, and each of them more than strong enough and worthy enough if they could keep up this far; such a buffet of choices, but yes, it was time for that finish and release.

She snapped her wings to stall, letting herself fall back a little into this small knot of chasers who were closest, who were within reach, who had kept up with her and proven themselves worthy. She would choose any of them, she thought.

But it was Zarkarth’s body that found her, Zarkarth’s tail that twined, and she let his mindvoice wash over her like the delicious onset of cool darkness after a hot summer’s day.

On the ground, Nidre reached for Th’reyos, a snarl in her throat more predatory than anything Jossenth had expressed in her joyous rising. “_Mine_.”

Last updated on the June 10th 2025

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The Skies Burn Gold