Piece of Cake

Writers: Iluva, Steel
Date Posted: 6th October 2026

Characters: R'zen, X'rion
Description: R’zen and X’rion make plans over dinner
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 5, day 19 of Turn 13
Notes: Mentioned: M'sar, Harki, K’mai, L'val, Maishoth,

Dinner was just about over, and X'rion had been slowly sprawling wider and wider along the bench as he and his wingmates chatted about the day's drills. He was content enough to stay there for the evening, even as a few of his mates inevitably excused themselves and went to enjoy their evening elsewhere. Families and weyrmates and dragons waiting for them. As a drudge passed their table, he, on the other hand, had been considering a cold ale. Just as he was about to call out--

}:Come out here.:{

**Out where? The ‘bowl?**

}:Yes, obviously.:{

X’rion frowned a little and made sure to signal the drudge on their way back. **Why?** he wondered.

}:You told me to tell you the next time I see Ibranth.:{ Angualdith made almost no effort to sound excited, although he stared somewhat transfixed across the ‘bowl all the same. }:I see Ibranth.:{

X'rion earned himself an annoyed look as he smiled and offered his apologies for the confusion and headed for the exit. He was still smiling as he approached the hunkered-down form of Angualdith, looking to where his dragon's head was pointing. It was his turn to surprise the bluerider, if not with his appearance, then perhaps something else.

“That was _awesome_, Ibranth.” R'zen told his blue, stroked the blue hide in front of him before he undid his straps and slid down, boots hitting the ground with a muffled thump. **We're getting faster and faster.** he thought to Ibranth and grinned at him, fierce joy and pride echoing back and forth between dragon and rider.

Ibranth, for his part, arched his neck proudly and mantled his wings. }:We _will_ manage that backwards trick you thought of.:{ the blue assured.

Ducking around Ibranth's far side, X'rion finally moseyed into view with his hands in his pockets. “You two are a fair pair even from all the way across the weyrbowl,” he said pleasantly, smiling up at the dragon first. “And you're late for dinner.”

R'zen did _not_ startle, thank Faranth, though he eyed X'rion. His face heated despite his best efforts.

Ibranth snorted and turned his head to peer at his rider again. }:Bold.:{

“... shut up.” R'zen muttered at his dragon without any heat. The blue only blinked at him, and R'zen made another face. “I was flying with Ibranth.” He responded. “I wasn't hungry yet, anyway.” A pause, and then he added, “... You just standing waiting for us or something?”

There was a not-so-fleeting temptation to say nothing at all after being told to shut up, unaware it had been levied at the blue. R'zen wasn't always one to take a joke, but that hardly stopped the slight challenge appearing in the way X'rion arched a brow. “Yeah, in the evenings I hang out here and scout out all the cute riders I want to talk to.” He snorted instead, giving Ibranth’s leg a gentle pat. “Either of you hungry now?”

Ibranth rumbled, and lowered his head in turn, accepted an eyeridge rub from his rider.

“I could--” R'zen started, but whatever he was going to say was cut off by an _oof_ as his dragon’s enthusiastic nudge sent him stumbling into X'rion.

Their heads collided with a light smack just as X'rion's eyes shut and he stumbled back a half step himself before he even fully registered what had happened. His eyes opened again-- but it was instinct that had him gently gripping R'zen by the shoulders to keep the bluerider from pitching forward into him any more.

X’rion tried (sort of) not to laugh. “You okay?” He asked, still holding him by the shoulders.

“Sharding Ibranth.” R'zen muttered, but without any heat. His face was _definitely_ red again. “I'm... okay. You?” He asked, and didn't move away.

“Yeah, I'm fine.”

Faranth, what had M'sar been thinking? R'zen couldn't just… ask X'rion something like _that_. His face turned even redder, and he finally took a half step back, away from X'rion's hold. “... I want dinner.”

“Then let's get you dinner.” X'rion did laugh this time. “Ibranth, I think Ang--" A low whoosh of dark wings cut overhead as they walked and X'rion craned his head to watch, though the answer was there in their link. The brown had to get there before the blue. “Same for him, apparently. Where’d you and Ibranth go?”

Ibranth spread his own wings and leapt skyward. Wherever Angualdith was going, Ibranth would get there _first_.

“We had drills. Then we looped the ‘bowl a few more times.” R'zen told X'rion. “We're not _allowed_ to go really far yet.” He paused, then added, “... _were_ you looking for anyone?”

Angualdith rumbled darkly against the sudden sensing of Ibranth close behind. His wings snapped closed over the feeding pens to fall hard and fast on a herdbeast, overly eager to start scarfing down flesh.

“Look out when you _can_.” X'rion glanced over at that hesitant question, wondering just how much redder R'zen could get. And not entirely sure the small tightening in his stomach hadn't found its way to his own face as well. “I was.” He still confessed, easy and smooth, his voice ricocheting softly down the corridor. “Found him now.”

Ibranth bugled his own approach, and crashed down on his own prey. }:Mine is bigger!:{ he announced immediately.

“I'm looking forward to it.” R'zen told him, and glanced sideways at X'rion, that twisting sensation not unlike flying with Ibranth back in his chest.

He hesitated again, and then kept his gaze completely forward as his hand found X'rion's. It wasn’t _weird_! They'd already held hands, even.

Their palms pressing together, holding a sweet, fleeting pocket of warmth between them, R'zen probably couldn't see the grin on the brownrider's face. X'rion's grip didn’t change as they entered the line, nor when Angualdith said something about finishing his beast faster than Ibranth.

“I was wondering if you wanted to sit with whatever’s left of the Wing, but out being a good student’s a good excuse.” His thumb swept over R'zen's. “You’re still angling for Summit when you graduate?”

“Absolutely.” R'zen responded immediately. “I'm not going to change my goals.” He paused, then added, “If no one's really around, I don’t care where we sit, I guess.” He peered at the line, and the trays of food. “I hope they have the spicy dragontails.”

X'rion's grip slackened and fell away to free up the bluerider's hand. But he didn't step back. Instead, he lingered close behind, brushing not all that innocently against R'zen as he peered over his shoulder at the trays still on offer: meatrolls… sweet buns… some rather sad looking stewed greens that should probably be chucked… And… “Oh, I think you're in luck,” he said approvingly. “Grab me one, too, will you?”

R'zen huffed, shifting his weight without actually moving away from X'rion's orbit. He took a dragontail and added it to his plate, and then one for X'rion, grabbing a sweet bun and putting it on the brownrider's plate as well. “Sure.” He told X'rion.

The briefest of pauses. “... How was your day?” See? He could be nice.

“Really good.” X’rion was already tearing the end off the dragontail with his teeth. “I had transport duty to Opal Cove and then went to Dolphin Cove to see some old classmates.” Angualdith had all but melted into the sand and if the brown weren't a stickler it would have been another job to get him back in time for drills. “I don't _think_ I got a sunburn but I might find out later.” He gave a testing touch to the back of his neck as he said it, then glanced back to where the Wing had been camped out. “And there's still a few stragglers there,” he told him. “Which… might be better than meeting the full crew of them all at once, anyway. Ah, shells, it's too bad Harki's gone-- she's always a laugh.”

R'zen frowned as he considered that. Opened his mouth, then closed it. “I've sat with a Wing _before_.” He said finally. “I'm not scared.”

“Well, that's good, because this is the scary Wing.” X'rion joked, thinking more so about the riders themselves, though technically they were first to flame every Fall. “Nah, actually, you’ll fit right in.” There was no joke that time, instead studying him with bright-eyed interest. “Which Wing have you sat with?”

“Alpine Wing.” R’zen responded, promptly. “K’mai invited me one time.” He lifted his chin a little, refinding his equilibrium and also his _pride_. “No Wing is scary. Me and Ibranth are gonna belong up there right with the rest of them.” He said, utterly certain.

}:Indeed.:{ Ibranth agreed.

“Oh ho. The Party Wing.” X'rion grinned, heading toward the open stretch of seats. “Did you meet Wingleader L'val?”

“... Not yet.” R’zen allowed, and let himself drift back into X'rion's orbit. “I don't know that I'd want to be in a Wing so focused on parties that--” he started, then stopped. “... Never mind.” He added, brows drawing together in a frown. It was beyond rude to talk about a Wing he wasn't even _in_.

X'rion's grin widened. “No, no. They're good fighters.” He insisted. “But it sure seems like they have parties like everyone's graduating all over again. I've been to a couple, and something really wild usually happens by the end of it.” Especially if K'mai was there. “They’ve earned the rep.”

The thought of R'zen ending up somewhere other than Summit felt a little ridiculous, actually, given his intensity and determination, but X'rion could admit that maybe a bit of his own preferences could be seeping in now, too.

He leaned toward him ever so slightly to say, “L'val, though, he can Hear All Dragons-- like, All all.”

“That doesn't sound… _fun_.” R'zen responded, almost awkwardly, still frowning as he tried to find the right words. “Something wild, I mean.” He paused, shoulders hunched, and then added stiffly, “If Wingleader L'val can hear all of the dragons, is he listening to them?”

He genuinely wasn't sure how to feel about that, if so.

“No idea.” X'rion shook his head. “That's a good question. He doesn’t seem the type, but… who knows. It probably helps if you've got a bunch of rowdy riders reporting to you.” He paused, face scrunching up. “Can you imagine a flight?” His next thought was more troubling still; the keening when someone died was hard enough with just Ang in his head and there was something unnerving about a Wingleader hearing all of that the moment he lost one of his own riders. A cold shiver ran down his spine. “One's enough for me.”

}:Obviously.:{ Angualdith preened. He sat licking his maw and pretending to ignore Ibranth. }:Once you have the best, who needs the rest?:{

X'rion pounded his chest to keep from choking on a bite of sweetbun, making yet another face at R’zen. **Who are you, Maishoth?** “Shells, anyway.” He finally exhaled, “I'd like to know what it's like, but just… once or twice. What about you?”

R'zen exhaled slowly. “I don't want anyone to know what me and Ibranth talk about sometimes.” He said, after a moment. “I don't need to know what other dragons are saying, either, not really.” He added, chose a seat and sprawled into it.

}:I do not care who hears me!:{ Ibranth declared, and took wing, not minding that he soared right over Angualdith's head. }:Come on. I'm full.:{

The brown did not. Not at first. He grumbled to himself and to X'rion and to anyone else nearby, still licking his jaws, but he did eventually take off after Ibranth and angle sharply up toward the rim.

“Yeah, I'm with you there. On both accounts.” X'rion propped an elbow on the table, instantly relaxed. But his curiosity hadn’t dulled any as he asked, smiling, “So, how was your day?”

Ibranth, naturally, had settled into what he considered the _best_ spot.

“My day? It was… good. Got more training in, did good in lessons.” R’zen told him, with a smirking grin. “Having a dragon is awesome. … How was your day?”

“It _is_ awesome. No other way to be.” X’rion agreed with Thread-proof certainty and set about tearing the remaining half of his sweetbun into chunks, popping each of them into his mouth with idle precision. He was just eyeing a drudge, thinking about that ale, when, exhaling softly, he turned back to R’zen, amused and quietly pleased to be asked twice. “Really good,” he repeated genuinely, though he found himself meaning it more this second time. “What is it you’re learning now?”

“We started going _between_.” R'zen told him, with a touch of pride. “We can't do it by ourselves yet, but any day now.” He took a bite of his own food, hesitated and glanced at X'rion. Maybe…

Another hesitation, and then he took a deep breath. How had M'sar said to-- _right_.

“We should make out.” R'zen said, keeping his gaze firmly on his plate.

"_Between_." X'rion echoed thoughtfully, before his brows rose, and every thought of ale slipped away into the ether. It was a brave thing for a holdbred to say that aloud, in a public place, but R'zen had never once struck him as anything else. He stared at him, the downcast eyes, the slight warmth still playing along his cheeks. It only made X'rion's dimples more defined. “Yeah?” he still couldn't help asking coyly, letting the silence sit between them. He liked a little romance now and then, but looking the bluerider over, there was nothing wrong with direct. Absolutely nothing at all. “We should.”

R'zen deliberately did _not_ look up from his food. “... After we're done. Somewhere _else_.” He added. He was hungry, shardit, and he wasn’t just going to abandon his food.

Last updated on the October 28th 2026

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Piece of Cake