Anger in the Pattern (Part 1 of 2)

Writers: Clancey, Heather
Date Posted: 10th August 2014

Characters: Devyn, J'darin
Description: J'darin takes his anger in all its scariness home to a hungover Devyn.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 8, day 1 of Turn 7
Notes: Notes: Takes place immediately after "Authority and Control".

Mentioned: Saibra, R'axe, N'call

Devyn

J'darin

Too angry to return to class, he instead went to his weyr.

Devyn had still been feeling a little under the weather this morning,
and it was nearly lunch time anyway.

Fuming, he stepped inside from the corridors, drawing an angry bugle
from Hasaarth. Luckily, his bronze did not direct it at anyone in
particular because Chioneth would surely have swatted him for it.

Out loud, because he could not contain it silently, he swore. "Stupid
Sharding Goldriders! Think they know better than EVERYONE. Care
more about things "look" than whats best for the rider!" The anger
underscored every single word and had he been slightly more foolish,
he would have punched the stone wall.

Fortunately, he was a touch smarter than someone who would punch a
stone wall, even as angry as Saibra had made him.

More in the same vein as he did take the opportunity to pull his boots
off and throw them - hard - at the offending chair at their dining
table.

If Devyn _was_ home, she was getting an earful - and probably a headache.

The greenrider appeared, a flimsy robe pulled around her body, her
eyes red-rimmed, and if truth be told, her hair had seen better days.
Devyn pressed a head to her forehead as she looked at the thrown
boots, and then back at her weyrmate, "Why are you yelling and
throwing things? Shhhhh. I have a killer headache." She said, even as
she crossed the room toward the klah pitcher.

"Saibra! That vain, stubborn, idiotic goldrider! How dare she come in
here and tell me how to train my weyrlings!? What does SHE know about
it?" He put on an imitation of Saibra's contralto, gone sharp with
anger. "21 turns a goldrider ..." He took off his other boot and
threw that one, though it wasn't as loud. "How does being a
goldrider make her qualified to teach weyrlings? "

He glanced at his weyrmate. "You know, you wouldn't have a killer
headache if you hadn't been out all night with a certain too handsome
bluerider." Though admittedly the volume dropped when he addressed
her he was clearly still aggravated. "But apparently you won't have
to do that anymore for fun because SAIBRA thinks SHE can train
weyrlings better than me, so that means I can go out and get drunk
with you all the time now."

"WOMEN!" He huffed and fumed, even eliciting a grumble from Hasaarth.

Devyn blinked and recoiled a bit from J'darin, her cup of klah in
hand. Why was he still shouting? Each loud word was like a piercing
needle to her brain. Sinking onto the couch, the greenrider sighed as
she looked at the bronzerider. She had never seen him this upset
before. A part of her found it much more appealing than the J'darin
who cried. Anger was at least manly, wasn't it?

"Get mad at me if you wish, but could you at least lower your fussing
to a whispering voice?" She put a hand up to massage her temples, "And
you should come and get drunk with me, at least that would be spending
some time together for once, wouldn't it?"

He snapped back at her, already peeved to the point of drinking.
"Yes, maybe if I did that, you wouldn't feel the need to spend time
with all these other men. But you know, maybe you think they are
better company than me the same way Saibra thinks she can train a
weyrling better! And no, I need to shout! First you tell me not to
cry, well now I'm not crying, I'm PISSED. "

He continued in the same tone, really showing off now.

"In fact, why don't we start now. Lets just get drunk together now.
I'll stay home all day with you and drink since I am apparently no
longer needed for anything else!" But this wasn't the self-pitying
'no one needs me, I'm not good enough' speech she had heard. This
was I have had enough of women and their stupidity talking, and still
pretty loudly.

"And to think!! I offered to show her AROUND!!! Even a beach that I
learned about when I was a young rider here, because she was too cold!
Faranth!! What a tightly wound, stuck up, full of herself goldrider
we got this time! She doesn't even like the weather! At least
Hygalia left me alone."

He trailed off into silence, fuming quietly. He did want a drink,
he found, and he stalked over to the cabinet, opening it and looking
for wine.

"Besides, drinking will cure your hangover faster than me whispering.
I ought to know." This last sentence was delivered in the quiet
voice she had asked for earlier but the anger was still underscoring
every single word.

Despite her pounding head, J'darin's words and actions were like a
dash of cold water to Devyn's senses. She got quickly to her feet and
padded over to the cabinet he was perusing. "Jay," she put a hand on
his arm to hopefully stop his search. The fact that the man was
actually looking for alcohol made her realize the serious implications
of what had taken place that day.

"Look at me." Her voice was soft, still rough from sleep, her hazel
eyes luminous as she looked up at him.

A queen dragon could not have held him in place more effectively than
her soft calling of his name, and the look on her face.

He froze in the act of reaching for a skin of wine, the normally
intense blue turned brighter with anger, but the anger was being held
back now, purposefully. He was trying to curb it, not wanting to
show this burning hot fury to his weyrmate, who didn't really deserve
it.

He looked at her, holding onto that hazel gaze as if it were the only
thing keeping him sane. His voice was soft. "I shouldn't drink?"
A faint quirk to his lips showed that he wanted to smile, despite the
overwhelming unhappy red laced emotion in the pit of his stomach and
behind his eyes.

He put his hand over hers and she could feel it shaking with the
restraint it was taking not to punch something hard, like the stone
walls. And, yes, not to grab the wine and down the skin.

"No." Her voice was still soft but there was a darkening flicker of
lust in her eyes. "I have something better for you to do with that
anger." Curling her fingers around his arm she nearly shivered at the
tensed muscles she felt beneath his tunic. Everything about his anger
in this moment struck a primal chord within Devyn. She wanted him more
in that moment than ever before.

"Come on." She tugged him back through the room, her eyes never
breaking contact with his as they entered the bedroom. She released
his arm, eyes still locked with his as she pulled the belt of the
flimsy robe she wore. As the garment loosened she gave a smooth roll
of her shoulders and it fluttered to the floor, leaving her utterly
naked beneath the intense gaze of her weyrmate.

When she spoke, and then pulled him toward her, the anger that was
crawling all over him twisted into something even more base, and much
deeper.

Connected at the eyes, but only touching where her hand touched his
arm, he felt like with just that one statement she'd turned him into a
fire of aching want instead of a pit of burning anger.

His skin heated and his blood - already boiling with fury - boiled
with something else.

When her robe fell to the ground, he made a guttural sound in his
throat and practically leaped at her, carrying them both to the bed,
his lips crushed to hers almost painfully.

His fingers trailed down her side and across her hips, finding for
himself that she was as eager as he suddenly felt, the evidence of his
need pressed hard against her soft skin.

There was very little of love in his touch, but more than she'd ever
seen of lust, fire, and wanting. The purely sexual need to release
the anger became something he could not control. Even after he had
come so close to winning Saibra's Flight, and even when she had come
home to him after N'call had won her own Flight, she had not seen this
side of him.

No one had ever seen this side of him.

He was rarely as angry as Saibra had made him, and so he had never had
the opportunity to feed that passion into something much better than
shouting and punching and, like with any other emotion he felt, he
felt it at an intensity that defied explanation.

He felt the pounding desire in his body demanding release, but still
took a few bare moments kissing every part of her that he could reach,
though more often than not, it was bites or nips that left small marks
on her skin. He finally understood "devour" in a way that he had
never experienced.

Husky, restrained violence mixed with overwhelming physical desire
created something between them he had no name for, but word came out
clipped, low, and full of the red of anger turned to lust when he
could contain himself no longer. "Now." was the only word he could
manage. And he shifted, lifting his face inches from hers to drink in
her eyes and her lips, both swollen with the evidence of the passion
she had stirred in him.

A part of Devyn was afraid, J'darin was never so rough, but a much
larger part of the greenrider was eclipsed by the magnitude of wanton
feelings that he was causing within her. In that moment she had never
wanted him so much. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her fingers
running up his back and locking into his hair, "Yes, now." She agreed
with a growl.

Last updated on the August 12th 2014

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Anger in the Pattern (Part 1 of 2)