Early to Rise

Writers: Aaron, Corrin, Duskdog, Estelle, Halyonix, Heather, Sia
Date Posted: 23rd August 2025

Characters: Sybana, L'keri, X'eri, C'rin, Ki'ben, E'kavas, K'leriac, M'kayre, A'brevan, T'valland, S'lahr
Description: Galgaith rises for the first time…
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 10, day 12 of Turn 12

Sybana

Sybana woke to the sound of thunder.

It boomed through her chambers and tore her from her sleep, so loud and close that she could feel the reverberations thrum thickly through her chest-- a counterpoint to her heart. Her heart. Her heart was racing, pounding, driven by fear-- no. Need.

Need. A hot, clenching ache twisted in her belly-- a brutal, blazing _hunger_ that made her fist her sheets and bite back a scream. She was _starving_. It made no sense. Unless--

The thunder boomed again and Sybana shuddered. It was Galgaith. Bellowing. Bellowing her hunger, her rage, her defiance, for all of Dragonsfall to hear. It rang out, a wild and primordial thing in the pre-dawn gloom, waking the Weyr to the young gold’s violent desire.

Galgaith was rising.

}:Get up.:{ Calioth sounded unusually gruff this morning. Perhaps T’valland had slept in. }:No. The young gold rises. I will have her.:{

**Cal, no. We knew her when she was a child.**

}:Obviously. She hatched here.:{

**No, not Galgaith-- Sybana! She’s from my old home, you old lecher.**

}:I don’t care. Get up, or you'll end up left behind to climb down yourself.:{

Rhalith's eyelids flicked open as the roar echoed from the stone walls of his weyr, shattering his peaceful rest. He lifted his head, sensing the first waves of the young queen's ravening mating urge, and he remembered Galgaith descending on the herd, tearing into her prey, all power and youthful vitality. What a wonder it would be to catch her!

He stirred, rose from his couch and stalked out onto his ledge, his gaze intent on the feeding pens. }:Rider? Rider!:{

L'keri groaned as he was jolted from the depths of sleep. No matter how cosy he was amid the furs, the urgency in his dragon's voice could not be ignored and his heart began to race. Was he late for drills? Was Thread falling out of pattern? He rubbed his bleary eyes. **What time is it?**

}:It is Galgaith's time! Come quickly, she will not wait!:{

**Galgaith?** L'keri swung his legs out of bed without thinking, knowing from experience that his dragon wouldn't be denied, and grabbed for the nearest clothes. Still, he had to grin. **Rhalith, that's just greedy. Alpine browns can't win all the golds.**

}:I will fly her far better than Zarkarth did his.:{ Rhalith flicked his tail in contempt. }:Hurry!:{

Sleep had already been stolen from X’eri well before Kohath alerted him to Galgaith. Dreams had plagued him ceaselessly through the night. Why he was having dreams about his hearing again, he couldn’t guess. Right after he’d lost it, he had dreamed constantly. He would wake with the echoes of his son’s voice in his ears.

Kohath was perched on the top tier of the three cliffs of Dragonsfall, as immovable and stoic as the Star Stones themselves. His tail lashed back and forth as he watched the young gold. }:I will win her.:{ It was said with quiet confidence.

It was early. Too early for Roquath's rumbling. E'kavas groggily grabbed a pillow and pressed it over his head, as if that might help muffle the pull of dragonlust. **Can I not have a moment's peace?**

}: Not when beasts like Zarkarth win golds and we do not.:{

E'kavas removed the pillow from his face and stared up into the shadows collected on the ceiling. That little shit.

Obrianth's roar jolted K'leriac awake in a panic. Disoriented and confused from a half-remembered nightmare, he fell. He'd tried to stand, to pull himself out of bed, but the floor wasn't beneath his foot, only air and pain. He went down hard on his side, jarring his shoulder. For a moment, all he could do was lie there, teeth clenched against the way his phantom limb screamed in protest.

Another gold. He wasn't ready. He hadn't been ready when Obrianth had chased Jossenth, either, but he'd done it anyway. His crutches were across the room. He still wasn't used to the crude prosthetic, and any attempt he could muster of putting it on would be almost as painful as the phantom pain.

Still, he untangled himself from the mess of blankets and reached for it.

A’brevan was already awake, though he hadn’t stirred from his weyr. He was leaning against Riakerth’s side, watching the first faint hint of color appear when Galgaith’s first roar broke the pre-dawn silence.

He scrambled to his feet as Riakerth echoed the sound, dumping half a cup of re-warmed klah onto himself with a curse. Not seeing a point in changing, he kicked the mug back towards his living space as the dark colored bronze launched himself from their ledge.

M’kayre was an early riser… but not quite _this_ early. Bhelth’s excitement woke him at the same moment that Galgaith’s bellow did, and being jolted awake by a surge of lust was something he had never quite gotten used to even after so many turns.

}:Up!:{ Bhelth insisted. }:Galgaith is flying!:{

Grumbling, M’kayre swung himself out of bed and fumbled for something he could slip on quickly. He was a proud bronzerider -- chasing a queen of the Weyr was a matter of honor, and he was more than happy to do so for reasons beyond the physical -- but that didn’t change the fact that he’d prefer to have had time for breakfast, or at least some klah, before such an exertion.

Sybana lurched out of bed. She didn’t dress. Didn’t think to. She rushed out to the ledge clad only in her nightgown--a gauzy, lacy thing--the morning frost nipping at her bare feet. She didn’t even feel it. She couldn’t feel it past the all-consuming hunger. Her only thought was of her dragon, of the pain she was in.

Galgaith paced on her ledge, tail lashing, wings flaring. Her breath came hot and heavy, her eyes monstrously red.

“Galgi--** Sybana reached for her, to soothe her, to comfort her. ‘Stay with her,’ her instructors had warned. ‘Don’t let her panic.’ ‘Don’t let her Between.’ She reached for Galgaith and all that was Galgaith reached back.

The hunger roared over her, stronger than ever before. She felt the gold’s mounting desire to run--fly--from everyone and everything. To go far, far away. To never, ever stop. It was excruciating. Being on the ground, being _here_ was excruciating.

“Stay.** Sybana gasped, reeling in the storm of emotion. She seized tight the bond and flooded it with her own love, her own desperate need. “Galgi-- Galgi, stay with me. Fly. Just fly.**

And Galgaith flew. A flash of gold and red in the gloom, she streaked towards the feeding pens.

Sybana followed-- or tried. She would have fallen from the ledge if a hand hadn’t caught her. The guard, Rhalen-- no, not Rhalen. Whatever man was on night shift outside her weyr. Names were so inconsequential now.

He was saying something, something about the flightrooms, but she hardly cared. He was touching her, grasping her wrist, and a golden fury overcame Sybana. How _dare_ he touch her! How _dare_ he hold her! She lashed out--

Galgaith lashed out, felling a bull in the pens. Bones cracked. The herd screamed. Galgaith killed.

Tangled with the guard on her ledge, Sybana tasted blood on her tongue-- then flesh between her teeth.

Galgaith was beginning to feast.

“NO!**

The command thundered down the bond, inflamed by fear and will. Like that first day at the feeding buckets, it lacked all finesse and nuance. It landed like a blow, slamming into Galgaith mid-bite.

Galgaith shrieked, the bright orange of alarm flaring in her wild eyes as she reflexively dropped the carcass. For a dragon not used to being denied, not used to being reprimanded by the one she loved, it was distressing, bewildering-- but she was ravenous. She tried to lunge for another bite, but Sybana caught the bend in her thoughts and slammed down a second time. “NO.**

Frustrated, Galgaith shrieked again and leapt into the air. If she could not eat, she would fly. She roared another wordless defiance and shot from the Weyr.

From the Rim, Isaoth, S’lahr’s bronze, roared back and took off. His wings were long, made for taking sharp dives and turns. If he lacked the bulk of the other bronzes, it was no matter - he would best them in agility.

Calioth had no such agility. All in all, he was too big for it. He had no special advantage aside from experience. He had chased many times. This time, he would win a gold.

Obrianth's roar echoed after Galgaith as he leapt into the air, his massive wings gaining altitude quickly and surely. He did not need acrobatics; she was not a green. All that mattered was staying aloft, and being strong enough at the end to bring her home.

Rhalith sprang into the air, his wings snapping out and pushing him upwards into the skies above the Weyr cliffs, his eyes focused with single-minded determination on Galgaith. Her cries drew him on, but he saved his breath, knowing he would need every ounce of his strength to match the bronzes long enough for a chance at winning her favor.

There was more than one brown hide mixed in with the dull glow of the bronzes. Dasveth was one of them. He equaled the small bronzes in the group in wingspan and size, and he had more experience than some of the young ones - like Setoth.

It was the first time Setoth had ever launched into the skies of Pern to chase a gold dragon. The magnificent chunk of golden ore that flew in front of them, the mighty Galgaith, she would be his! He had left his rider stunned and sprawling out of bed when he declared that he would be chasing the young Dragonsfall queen.

Roquath leapt from where he'd been watching as Galgaith shot past, taking hard to the air and barreling after her. He was, at least, larger than some of these foolish bronzes, and he'd have no problem keeping up with such a young gold (no matter what E'kavas said).

Norrianth considered the chase enough to rouse his rider, though by the time he decided to make a move and appeared at the feeding pens Galgaith was already gone and the pack with her.

Riakerth was cautious, letting the pack take to the air and sort themselves out in that first frantic jostling of position. There was no sense in spending all his energy fighting through the scramble. This was a gold flight- it was wise to save some energy for the end.

M’kayre wasn’t even to the flightrooms yet before Galgaith was gone. “Too quick,” he mumbled, frowning, but Bhelth hardly cared -- with a roar and a great gathering of muscular haunches and then a release like a spring wound too tight, the bronze was airborne after her. He was strong, and experienced, but not an overly-strategic flyer -- he would maneuver when he needed to, but for now, the young gold was in his sights and as far as he was concerned, the other males weren’t even a factor.

Sybana didn’t remember walking. Only the pull. The nameless guard’s hand burning on her arm, pulling her down the stairs, down the cliffs as Galgaith climbed higher and higher. Her vision blurred, half in the clouds, half in the open ‘bowl. They were passing people--gawking faces, hissing whispers--and she was too delirious to care.

Galgaith was flying, high and free. The hunger still clawed at her, at the horrible hollow in her belly, but for a brief moment she found solace in flight as it took her far from the pens and the confusion and the fight. She climbed and climbed, setting out at a steep angle and punishing pace.

The pulling stopped. The guard gave a push and Sybana staggered into the flight room at last. The searing grip on her arm was gone and with it, her support. She fell to the floor in the center of the chamber as her vision smeared again and she was back in the sky.

Ki’ben’s instinct was to reach for Sybana when she fell, but the snarl of a rider beside him drew him to a sharp stop.

Across the flight room, X’eri stood in a corner near the back, as was his habit. One foot was braced against the wall where he leaned. Arms crossed over his chest, blue eyes hooded, the bronzerider watched as Sybana stumbled in. Shards, she looked young and vulnerable in her nightgown with her lovely hair loose and spilling around her shoulders.

Kohath soared around some of the younger, inexperienced males. He did not want to get entangled with them. His focus was on the craggy figure of Galgaith.

Isaoth snarled at one of the other dragons that veered too close. His! She would be his! He would sire her clutch! It would be his offspring that grew strong from this union!

}:Keep your teeth to yourself!:{ Calioth snapped back.

Through his bond with his rider, Rhalith felt relief, a missing piece falling into place - **She's here** - and then they were fully as one again, both caught up in a heated pack of males, jostling for space, growling and shoving, tails lashing. He steered clear of the rival bronzes, seeking every advantage, every gust of wind or gap in the pack that would bring him closer to the golden queen. She was no wily, agile green. This was a test of strength and grit, and more - the skill to seize his opportunity when it came.

C’rin winced as Dasveth narrowly avoided a midair collision of bronze and brown hide. }:They will not stop us,:{ Dasveth vowed.

}:Galgaith. Let’s fly together,:{ Setoth coaxed.

K'leriac, hobbling in late, didn't hesitate and grabbed for Sybana, hauling her back up to her feet with little preamble. Obrianth's need burned in his veins, and his grip was tighter, rougher than it needed to be.

She hissed and writhed in his grasp, clawing his chest, his arm, with talons she did not have-- but those nails were sharp enough. He hastily released her and stepped back into A’brevan.

A’brevan, smelling of spilled klah, stumbled into the flight weyr a little late, having had to make his way down from their high ledge on foot with how abruptly the flight had started. “Watch out,” he said, reaching out to shove K’leriac forward again, forgetting, for a moment, what had happened, his mind too distracted to register until the man stumbled far more than he’d intended. “Shards--” he made an attempt to turn the shove into a grab, grip tightening on K’leriac’s arm.

Riakerth went high, flying above the pack, certain Galgaith would want to rise. It was what golds did, after all. Surely eventually she would leave the jostling mass below behind to climb to higher altitudes.

K'leriac nearly fell again, also forgetting his situation in the haze of flightlust and his leg hitting nothing but air as he instinctively stumbled forward. He grabbed for A'brevan, steadying himself and getting his crutch underneath him before pushing away.

“_Children_,” M’kayre snarled, his lip curling, but it wasn’t really clear to whom exactly he was referring -- the younger riders present, or those doing the grabbing and shoving, or Sybana herself, or every single rival in the room.

His disdain was sharper, more bitter, than Bhelth’s for his own rivals, but that malice began to bleed through just as surely as the bronze’s lust was bleeding through back to his rider. Bhelth veered to break free of the tight pack he’d found himself in, and spared a smug glance and bared teeth back at the dragon that he had abruptly cut off. }:Too bad!:{

Roquath snapped at Bhelth, the old bronze making him careen away and twist sharply to avoid a collision. }: Next time I bite, old man!:{ He roared.

**No you don't-** E'kavas protested, the sharp mental _yank_ twisting a protesting Roquath back on track, after Galgaith.

Galgaith fled on, plowing through the air with grim determination, climbing higher and higher. She could feel the dragons on her tail, she could hear Setoth and the others with their calls and enticements. She didn't look back, couldn't look back. She had to stay focused, had to stay ahead of their grasping talons. She didn't want to be caught. Not now, not yet-- but her shoulders already burned with exertion and she felt a traitorous weakness bleeding into her wings. Wracked with hunger, she would not be able to keep her lead much longer.

Isaoth made a quick twist in the air and cut off one of the brown dragons that was still audaciously chasing. }: Away with you, :{ he snapped at his lesser rival. And then, with another quick flip of his wings, he veered away, back on course towards Galgaith. With a determined snarl, he surged forward. He had to win!

Roquath roared back in anger and barreled after Isaoth. He wouldn't be bullied by these lesser dragons. He was their equal match in speed and endurance, and he would force them to recognize it.

Setoth felt strong and his body thrummed with energy. Having fed only the day before, his young bronze body was ready. He waited for Galgaith’s next move as he closed in with the rest of the back.

Obrianth jostled another bronze off course as he tried to space himself away from the pack, trying to give him enough space to dive for Galgaith without another chaser pushing him off course.

Calioth was not about to let that be the end of it. He had recovered from worse before. He pushed on, snapped his wings into place, and pressed against the treacherous air. He was stronger than the sky. There. He could still get her. All he needed was a touch of speed, and he had speed left to spare.

Rhalith had fallen back behind the bronzes, slipping unnoticed in their wake. This flight, all clashing bodies and teeth, seemed more physical than those of the greens he was used to, where cunning and fast reactions were key. He'd watched more than one chaser pushed off course by a larger dragon. Now he sensed a shift in the pace and knew he couldn't hang back much longer. His desire was as one with his rider's insouciance, his desire to show these arrogant bronzes what a brown could do. Drawing in a deep gulp of chill air, he pushed forward, seeking a way through the pack.

On the ground, Sybana groaned in frustration.

She could feel the scream of tired muscles, the gnash of hunger, the desperate edge of her dragon’s flight, but rising beneath it all was a new feeling, primal and raw-- Lust. She hadn’t been at Dragonsfall long enough to experience a goldflight before, and now the final hallmarks of it washed over her and the weyr.

The weyrlingmasters had tried to warn her. They had looked at her, gently, knowingly, and said that she would want ‘relief.’ Like it could be a polite, dignified affair. Like it wouldn’t make her want to rut on the floor like an animal.

It was _agony_, even sharper and more intimate than the hunger had been.

She wanted relief. She wanted more than that. She wanted a myriad of things she barely knew how to want-- only she had this awful, mounting ache to be touched.

}:I see you,:{ said Calioth. T’valland could never see it, but no two-legs ever did. They saw the imperceptible differences in their own faces, their own stances. Calioth saw the slight changes in Galgaith that said she was nearing the end of her flight. Her urge to be caught was growing greater than her urge to escape.

High above the Weyr, but not nearly high enough, Galgaith flagged, her wingbeats leadened and slow.

}:Rest with me,:{ Calioth implored her. }:Shelter in my wings.:{

Kohath was higher in the air, having anticipated the young gold, but as she slowed in her altitude, he backwinged into a smooth glide. Was she playing with them? Was she about to do something wily and clever?

Surprised, Rhalith watched the gold slow, as if she was at the end of her strength while he was just getting into his stride. It felt too soon - a trick? Ahead of him, a bronze bugled in triumph and surged forward, opening up a gap. Sometimes, in a flight, you just had to take a chance. }:Now or never...:{ His wings beat down and he rolled, trying to avoid an angry flick of a tail and snapping jaws. }:Here I am!:{

Somewhere in the back of Bhelth’s mind was the part of M’kayre that was still M’kayre, thinking _too soon, too soon_… and part of Bhelth was aware, too, that he wasn’t at his limits yet, he hadn’t pushed himself to burning yet, so it _must_ be too soon, but oh how he ached, and he could see the ache in Galgaith, too. If he hesitated, someone else would act. Someone else would take what should be his… like that brown! The _audacity_!

He gave a mighty downbeat and surged forward, bullying his way between a pair of his rivals and reaching for Galgaith. }:The best, my queen, you needn’t settle -- accept only the best…!:{

Dasveth jostled against Bhelth, not to be undone by the older, more experienced male. The brown stretched out his neck, flattening his wings to become more aerodynamic as he whistled through the air like an arrow - his target, Galgaith.

There was no trick. The gold was at the end of her strength, she faltered-- they lunged.

Galgaith hadn’t flown far enough to thin out the pack. There were too many of them at once. Bhelth was above her, then Dasveth, then another, and she screamed and lashed against them. A clash of dragons--gold and bronze and brown tangling in the air--

--until she tumbled free in the grasp of cunning Rhalith and finally the urge to flee was subsumed by an even greater desire...

Riakerth was too high. No, the gold was too low. He roared his frustration as someone else snagged the gold, who hadn’t done what she should have. He hadn’t made the mistake, the gold had, and he snarled as he whirled back towards the weyr, plunging himself into the chilling water of the lake.

In the flightroom, all thoughts of propriety and procedure had left Sybana, burnt away by the draconic passion thundering down her bond. She reached out blindly for someone, anyone--

And then he was there, emerging from the crowd of riders with his dragon's own impudence, an instant of sheer amazement swiftly replaced by the dizzying sense of their dragons falling, wings and tails and necks entwined, that familiar, all-consuming desire. L'keri drew her close, his fingers tangling in her loose dark curls. "Here I am," he murmured, echoing Rhalith's call to his mate, before he lifted her in his arms and bent his head to meet her in a searing kiss.

Last updated on the August 29th 2025

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Early to Rise