Grand Theft Flitter [R'nya]

R’nya’s evening had been neither here nor there, as the young man went about his usual tasks. Eating, required conversations, bathing, and then finally he had made it back to his hut, somewhere in the vicinity of nine in the evening. He was not one to hang around the dining hall and eat or drink or laugh or play betting games, and as a result, R’nya’s habits tended to horrify many of his other dragonrider brethren. Early nights, early mornings, and very little alcohol; such was that very evening.

R’nya was in bed, despite the generally ‘early’ hour – particularly by other dragonriders’ standards – and quite on the edge of sleeping when Xyreith informed him that company was on the way. R’nya was not pleased, and frowned irritably in the direction of his dragon, stormy grey eyes refusing to open. Tell him I’m asleep. It was an irritated thought, and Xyreith snorted at his human’s assumption that the approach was by a man. He could easily tell R’nya figured it was probably S’kef, though the man had no founding reason why the Weyrleader would opt to visit him late at night. The sudden remembrance of the awful story found on the bulletin board had R’nya’s eyes rolling dramatically while Xyreith laughed.

It is one of the idiot girls, Xyreith put in after a moment, still highly amused, and R’nya groaned. Whether it was at Xyreith’s insistence to refer to the various young women by insulting terms and phrases, or the fact that he was being pounced upon by a young woman after dark when they knew he went to bed early, was hard to determine. The bronzerider rubbed the bridge of his nose as he slipped out of bed and stalked irritably across the room, pausing when he got to the door to compose himself before swinging the door open, one eyebrow arched up as he looked questioningly at… Rhaedalyn.

Damn it Xyreith! The dragon just laughed, his eyes sparkling a rare and vibrant blue as he peered up at his shirtless human and the girl who would undoubtedly be all kinds of flustered in less than a heartbeat. The bronzerider was wearing no more than a pair of long, loose and low slung cotton pants. His feet bare, and hair sticking out in a variety of directions as it fluffed up after being washed earlier; the usually incredibly dignified bronzerider looked little more than a harshly woken teen as he tried very hard not to glare sullenly at Rhaedalyn.

“Come in, Rhaedalyn,” R’nya’s voice was as mild as ever as he stood back, one arm sweeping slightly to invite the young woman in. He waited patiently for the girl to collect herself and enter, before quietly closing the door and following her into the main room. “Why do you need me?” He sincerely hoped this wasn’t another attempt to have him sleep with her. She was a lovely young lady, truly, but he really—Xyreith burst into laughter once more, the sound rolling through the back of R’nya’s mind, and the man resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose again.

Retaining his quiet, unruffled air with some effort – he was tired – R’nya walked sedately over to the couch and settled himself on one end, posture as perfect as ever, and waited patiently for Rhaedalyn to explain what had her so worked up – all the while hoping it was something easily dealt with, and trying to ignore Xyreith’s sniggering in the back of his mind. What had he done to deserve this? The bronze dragon’s laughter intensified.