Victory [Tsuen]

D'ren opened his eyes and blinked away his restful dreams, body spent and mind whirling with a mixture of half-quelled emotions. It was late, he noticed, based on the fiery sunset creeping it's way under the hut's door. Katilan evenings were rather bright this time of year. How did it get so late?

The bronzerider rubbed his eyes and tried to focus on his blurry memories of the past few hours. He could remember his fitful mood from before, his strange restlessness. He could remember Ronarth's agitation and unusual pushiness. He could remember...

...Ah, yes. So it wasn't a dream.

D'ren rolled over to look for Tsuen. He smiled modestly, though he could feel his face heating up as he did so. Flights were ugly business. D'ren liked to treat a woman right, not knock her door down and fling himself at her. Messy business indeed, but he couldn't have been happier to be waking up in that bed at that very moment.

Katila needed firm leadership. The Weyr was so fragile, perched in such a precarious situation! It needed stability. While he knew he couldn't expect to hold his office forever, he hoped to have enough time to create something stable and healthy to pass on to a successor, or perhaps juggle with a rival, as so many of the norther Weyrs of old tended to do. Perhaps just as seriously, though, it meant he got to wake up next to Tsuen.

He was admittedly smitten with the woman. She was tough, much tougher than he tended to give women credit for, and he sympathized with her plight. She had to make hard decisions. They were decisions without precedent, decisions that would possibly determine the fate of the world one day. They were also decisions with no obvious right answers...decisions he had come to share in. It was hard not to become attached to someone after turns of bearing the same burdens and facing the same fears. How could he not admire her?

He pulled the sheet up over his chest, hiding his unsightly scars, and gently leaned forward. "Tsuen," he whispered softly. He reached out to Ronarth. The beast was equally spent, curled comfortably outside beside his mate.

It's good that we're all still together D'ren thought warmly.

"Tsuen," he whispered again. "Are you awake? I'm still here." He wondered if she would share his relief.

Tsuen was not quite asleep. She had woken up a few minutes prior and was still laying with her eyes closed, breathing evenly, simply enjoying the relief that the flight itself had provided. Little had she realized she had been so proddy the past few days; she hadn't even realized the gold was about to fly till she'd noted the change in her dragon's voice just moments before the flight had commenced. For all the relief she felt in the flight being over, however, she had not mustered the courage yet to turn over, to see who her bed companion - and the next Weyrleader - was. She remembered only Nirinath's first words, and snippets of the argument over whether the gold would blood or gorge, but little afterward, and the man or woman behind her could have literally been almost anyone. There were several riders who, put in the position of Weyrleadership, would have done a... less than adequate job, she thought, and many more who would have done alright, and a very, very select few who would have excelled. D'ren was at the head of that list, especially since he had held the office previously and so knew what she was going through, better than most.

So it was an even greater relief when the voice that spoke softly in her ear was, in fact, D'ren's. She liked D'ren, and not just because he was a good leader, though that played a small part. He was handsome, kind, strong in both body and in personality, and willing to pull his weight. There was much to be liked about him. A gentle prodding of Nirinath's mind prompted a lazy agreement from her; Ronarth was definitely to her liking, and D'ren too, of course. Tsuen turned over quietly, coming face to face with D'ren. She pulled her hair from under her and then rested that hand against the man's shoulder, smiling softly. "D'ren. I'm glad to see it's you."

The bronzerider relaxed at her touch, relieved to see her equally happy at the outcome. He couldn't imagine what the riders of female dragons went through, feeling so coveted and objectified during dragonflight. He was thankful not to have to deal with it himself, though his own flight conduct was a bit ghastly in his eyes. He felt like a beast. It was offensive to his chivalrous tendencies, but nothing could be done about it. Now, it was over, and he could be glad it happened.

He smiled at Tsuen. "I'm glad to he here, too," he said softly. This meant they had what, around three more turns together, judging by Nirinath's previous cycle? Three more turns to enjoy each other's company and keep the Weyr whipped into shape. He yawned pleasantly and inched closer to Tsuen, reaching out with one hand to delicately stroke her face. "How are you feeling?" he asked. He never knew exactly what to say after a flight, but his mellowness and leisurely contentment were obvious. This was how thing ought to be.

He pried for Ronarth. The dragon was found sleeping happily, his gentle mind still floating about in the clouds. Good boy D'ren thought with amusement. Ronarth would be so proud of himself!

Winning the flight meant D'ren could push forward with some of the new plans he had; plans he'd been holding off on to avoid enacting right before a potential shift in leadership. Now that he had more time, he was safe. His mind started to drift in that direction, but he quickly suppressed it. Now wasn't the time to be political or administrative, it was the time to enjoy a well-earned quiet moment with Tsuen. His romantic side got the better of him, and he blushed.

Tsuen smiled under his touch, the gentleness that he was showing her making her feel like a younger woman (and in a good way). She scooted still closer to him, her arm sliding around his waist. Grinning further, she assessed how, exactly, she was feeling, the better to answer D'ren. "Well. I'm here. That's a positive. I'm in one piece..." she stuck her tongue out at the man in jest.

Flights were, as a whole, messy, unpredictable, and difficult, especially in the morning after phase, but Tsuen found she rarely felt objectified. That was, most likely, due to the flightlust that took away all her human thoughts and replaced them with the thoughts and feelings of her dragon -- and everyone knew what a dragon in Flight was thinking of.

Even mostly asleep, Nirinath got a kick out of that thought, a smile curling across her face as she nuzzled nearer Ronarth. "How about you? Everything alright?"

D'ren let out a soft, affectionate laugh when Tsuen stuck her tongue out at him. He grinned unashamedly and winked. "I'm feeling wonderful," he said, resting his head back on his pillow and allowing himself a long, relaxed sigh. There was a lot to do, but right now he didn't want to do anything. He just wanted to lie there, enjoying the company of his companion and knowing that he and his dragon had done well.

Outside, Ronarth stirred only slightly. D'ren thought he could make out some soft, distant words floating from the bronze's mind. Was Ronarth awake and just horribly sleepy? No, more likely he was still sleeping, his brain formulating half-responses to D'ren's emotions as he did so. Now that was cute. D'ren let out one of his half-laughs. "Ronarth is talking in his sleep," he crooned. He wasn't sure if that's exactly what it was, but he didn't know what else to call it.

What a day. He closed his eyes and tightened his grip on Tsuen, not possessively but protectively. "Mmmm. I think I'm going to take another nap," he said. The sickening romantic in him was awake and eager, his hot affection for the goldrider burning hot just under the surface. He leaned forward and brushed a kiss across her lips. "I love you," he whispered before he'd realized he'd done it.

He could already feel himself blushing. Not dignified at all!