Hello loves! While I haven't been writing, I have been working on updating some issues that have been hanging around on the layout! The Character change box is now at the bottom of the page, beside the up/down arrows! Green and Gold dragon flight dates have been shifted to the bottom of the page, where the (useless!) discord widget was located. Where the dragon flights were in the header, is now replaced by a Monthly Event box! This will be updated at the start of each month, with a fun mini-event you can take part in, if you want to! Thistle!
29.Jan.19, 06:51 AM
R’nya grinned in response to Rhaedalyn’s laughter, leading her through the motions of the dance with an easy grace. While he expected Rhaedalyn could or would guess as much, R’nya had never actually told anyone how much he enjoyed dancing, but he loved dancing with Rhaedalyn. She was such a ray of pure joy, her easy laughter and bright expression. R’nya kissed her on the cheek when the opportunity was presented to them between moves, laughing softly as they skipped around, bouncing to the rhythm of the music that was being played.
“Sacrilege,” R’nya teased, grinning once more when Rhaedalyn laughed and he spun her through to the closing move of the dance, enjoying the view and the warm familiarity of her hand in his. As she dropped his hand to applause, R’nya dropped his own to warp gently around her waist, nuzzling Rhaedalyn’s neck and pressing an affectionate kiss against the edge of her jaw, just below her ear. Chuckling lowly against her ear, R’nya stepped back and offered her his hand as the band started up for another dance; “Come, my love, I need a drink.” He smiled as he led her gently to the edge of the room where tables were laid out with foods and drinks of all types.
Filling two glasses with cold juice, R’nya handed Rhaedalyn one and took a sip from his own, resisting the urge to gulp it all down greedily. How many dances had they had? It couldn’t have been more than two, maybe three, but R’nya was immensely pleased he had eaten very little for lunch, knowing they’d be spending the evening indulging in the Hold. Sipping his drink again, R’nya watched Rhaedalyn with soft eyes; her gown was gorgeous – she’d rendered him absolutely speechless when he’d first seen her in it – and he’d seen more than one of the Holders at the party give his mate the once (or more!) over.
If he were honest with himself, R’nya was both surprised, but also not surprised, by his lack of jealousy. The security he felt in Rhaedalyn’s love for him humbled him. None the less, he had played at teasing the Holders it by pointedly introducing her as ‘Lady Rhaedalyn, Weyrwoman of Fort,’ to anyone that stopped to chat to him, even interrupting their conversations to make sure his mate was introduced and then staring pointedly to make sure she was given her respectful dues. He found their expressions entertaining. Some, such as the young Lord who was hosting the party, had taken it in stride, but R’nya had found more than a few who were put out by it. Once upon a time, R’nya knew he was in that group, but Rhaedalyn, and five beautiful girls, had done a rather thorough job of proving to him just how wonderful his mate and their daughters were.
Not that he’d be letting any of their girls Impress anything but gold – and that was only if he couldn’t keep them all off the Sands entirely.
“Oh, I like this song,” R’nya said suddenly, setting his half-glass of juice down and lifting his eyebrows invitingly at Rhaedalyn. “Shall we?”
“Sacrilege,” R’nya teased, grinning once more when Rhaedalyn laughed and he spun her through to the closing move of the dance, enjoying the view and the warm familiarity of her hand in his. As she dropped his hand to applause, R’nya dropped his own to warp gently around her waist, nuzzling Rhaedalyn’s neck and pressing an affectionate kiss against the edge of her jaw, just below her ear. Chuckling lowly against her ear, R’nya stepped back and offered her his hand as the band started up for another dance; “Come, my love, I need a drink.” He smiled as he led her gently to the edge of the room where tables were laid out with foods and drinks of all types.
Filling two glasses with cold juice, R’nya handed Rhaedalyn one and took a sip from his own, resisting the urge to gulp it all down greedily. How many dances had they had? It couldn’t have been more than two, maybe three, but R’nya was immensely pleased he had eaten very little for lunch, knowing they’d be spending the evening indulging in the Hold. Sipping his drink again, R’nya watched Rhaedalyn with soft eyes; her gown was gorgeous – she’d rendered him absolutely speechless when he’d first seen her in it – and he’d seen more than one of the Holders at the party give his mate the once (or more!) over.
If he were honest with himself, R’nya was both surprised, but also not surprised, by his lack of jealousy. The security he felt in Rhaedalyn’s love for him humbled him. None the less, he had played at teasing the Holders it by pointedly introducing her as ‘Lady Rhaedalyn, Weyrwoman of Fort,’ to anyone that stopped to chat to him, even interrupting their conversations to make sure his mate was introduced and then staring pointedly to make sure she was given her respectful dues. He found their expressions entertaining. Some, such as the young Lord who was hosting the party, had taken it in stride, but R’nya had found more than a few who were put out by it. Once upon a time, R’nya knew he was in that group, but Rhaedalyn, and five beautiful girls, had done a rather thorough job of proving to him just how wonderful his mate and their daughters were.
Not that he’d be letting any of their girls Impress anything but gold – and that was only if he couldn’t keep them all off the Sands entirely.
“Oh, I like this song,” R’nya said suddenly, setting his half-glass of juice down and lifting his eyebrows invitingly at Rhaedalyn. “Shall we?”
