What Isn't Yours

Writers: Iluva, Sia
Date Posted: 14th October 2026

Characters: K'valas, A'garyn
Description: Sazikoth rises for the first time
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 5, day 21 of Turn 13
Notes: Mentioned: Teyrabth (H'kami), Maishoth (J'ler)
named dragons chasing were volunteered by their writers many moons ago, thank you for your patience

K'valas

A'garyn

The sun had barely cleared the Rim when Sazikoth rose.

She gave no warning. One moment she crouched on the ledge, green hide taut and gleaming; the next she leapt from the ledge with a scream that awoke and inconvenienced neighbours.

The force of her Rising slammed into K’valas through the bond and drove the air from his lungs. He knew it was coming-- for days, her hide gleaming as her mood darkened-- and no lecture nor amount of dread could prepare him for the reality.

}: Now. :{ Sazikoth’s voice radiated pure fury and need. }: Catch me if you can.:{

She climbed quickly, shooting high above the Weyr, every wingbeat a challenge, every bank so abrupt that the first blues and browns who had thrown themselves after her were left scrambling.

It was annoyance that pulled A'garyn out of a doze. Out on the ledge it flared sharp and fast at the cry piercing the pale dawn. Checking its source along their minds, finding Sazikoth at its end, had A'garyn on the ledge, shoving on a shirt, in the same breath as he urged Talarcheth into the sky. The bronze didn't move.

The chorused cries of her chasers rang in his ears. Every second was a chance, a clench, a loss of breath A’garyn already didn't have. He tried to broach the space of distaste between their dragons; encouragement, then flattery, stroking his dragon's ego, but they did nothing to sway him from his spot. A'garyn felt little pride in what he did next. “What?” He smiled. “Don't tell me you're afraid of her?”

Talarcheth’s voice was a low burning laugh. }:If I wanted her, I would chase her.:{ But he hissed at what was brewing between them, tail lashing.

“She's fast.” A'garyn's heart hammered against his ribcage. Too loud, too insistent. “Too fast, probably.” He didn't speak to his dragon this way. The one who pushed first and he pushed back. In the back of his mind he didn't know of any others who had joined a chase yet, the restrictions on Chioneth’s class having only just relaxed. Still, the smile sharpened into something else. Wrong, focused only on now. “Not like you to back down from a challenge.”

There was another laugh, but the growl in Talarcheth's throat grew beneath the words, the implications-- the way A'garyn leaned with such force into their bond that his wings flared.

“Thought you might like a real one for once. You're not losing your edge already, are you?”

A’garyn knew his dragon threw himself from his ledge for him. Because it was what _he_ wanted. But he was desperate. And his dragon loved him. And he knew it would work.

But as Talarcheth tore up through the air after Sazikoth, it was because he was filled with the desire to yank her from it. To beat her. He would.

He wouldn't.

The flight burned like fire under K'valas' skin. Sazikoth's need flooded him in waves that left his knees weak and his breath ragged. Her call made his throat ache like he was the one screaming, fury and challenge and hunger all roiling together into one blinding need. He felt every wingbeat as if it was his own-- the cold air high above the Weyr, the burn of her muscles, the world disappearing somewhere far below.

She almost didn't notice Talarcheth attempting the chase, and she almost didn't let the audacity get to her. She twisted once, a sharp bank that forced the larger dragons to correct hard, then climbed again without a second glance. Too slow, too stupid. He would not catch her.

She dove, climbed, turned on a wingtip, and the bronze fell farther behind with every pass. Other dragons closed in but none of them mattered yet. Sazikoth flew for the pure challenge of it, green hide flashing against the brightening sky, and K’valas felt the slow, inevitable pull of the mating flight tightening around them both.

Talarcheth's seething roar struck across the wind in a torrent of sound. The green was, unfortunately, a fast flyer. A regrettable rival he needed to beat as much as any of the others. He and Sazikoth were roughly on par in terms of size and he could certainly turn, bank, cut far faster than any of the adult bronzes and browns. But he felt his infuriating lack of familiarity here. There was a strange searing in his wing joints, in his shoulders where insufficient muscle was still accreting.

Frustration and fury were his true fuel. Bolstered by the endless force of his rider’s will, they filled and held his wings where they might otherwise fold. But a deeper, atavistic awakening was unfolding in Talarcheth's ichor, too. This entirely his. An unquenchable, unspeakable, incendiary need. It was borrowed strength-- psychic desires meeting potent primal urge. But it was the kind that had him rocketing higher out of the tail tip of the pack, vast sails assaulting the sky. A sudden flip in the opposite direction, and it almost looked like he was done, dropping from the air, only to grab a massive updraft that put him just about in position as the chase veered back towards him. A few beats later and Talarcheth was actually pulling ahead.

Finally past Maishoth.

Then Teyrabth.

There were still a few more. More than a few.

But there she was-- an infuriating ember at the end of the chain. Not completely out of his reach.

Just a little longer. It was a long shot and already A'garyn’s heart-rate was too high. He planted one hand on the flightroom wall, it suddenly materializing out of the sky beneath his palm. Distantly he knew he was dizzy, but he had a new understanding of what his dragon could do and it only spurred them on. Just a little longer.

Memory and reason had burned away into ash. That man. Those eyes. How many times had he looked into those eyes. How many times had his stomach tightened with the way K'valas looked at him, his skin already aching. How many times had they touched, breathed, reveled in the closeness sustained by their touch, trembling and brief. Back when there had been nothing else to have and then nothing left to need. How many times had he lost himself in those eyes. A'garyn felt how many in his every suffering nerve. His other hand formed a hard fist, his teeth bared at even the thought of anyone getting closer to K'valas.

K'valas stood rigid, every nerve alight with the force of Sazikoth's lust. Her need crashed through the bond in relentless waves until his breath came short and his pulse hammered hard enough to drown out everything else. His gaze locked on A'garyn's, Sazikoth's rage and his horror intermingled in the pit of his stomach. K'valas saw the clenched fist, the fierce possessiveness that had nothing to do with the bronze trying to catch up to a faster, smaller green that actively worked against him.

That distaste was eventually her downfall, when she banked hard on a wingtip and twisted away, sending several chases careening off into empty air-- but into the wings of the winning brown.

K'valas didn't register the brownrider's presence until he was upon him, rough hands at his waist, pulling him close. His own hands answered on instinct, curling into the front of the brownrider's jacket, dragging it open and shoving it back off broad shoulders. Cool air met overheated skin; the brownrider's mouth found the side of his throat.

It was all A'garyn could do to shove away from the wall, his stomach twisting and every ounce of air leaving his lungs. Talarcheth’s descent was practically in free fall, and the room emptied quickly now that the search for skin between brown and greenrider was paramount. It was unlikely they even heard the growl. Or saw the teeth flashing too readily, too close behind the brownrider.

The loud bang somewhere off to the side a moment later was a fist flying into the door.

Last updated on the October 28th 2026

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