Who: Arlet, Rori, Akanyth, Inaskashath
When: Month 8, 203 AT
Where: Rori’s and Inaskashath’s Weyr, Honshu Weyrhold
What: A proddy Rori seeks the company of Arlet.
Inaskashath has had little occasion to reach out to Akanyth since he found the interest of another gold – in another Weyr – on another continent. Her reluctance to visit Fort has left Rori with only two visits to check on Arlet, the distance between them growing wider as the days pass and uncertainty of gold and goldrider settle in. Rori has been well versed in noticing the signs to expect of Inaskashath’s proddy behavior and she is demonstrating her own ability to keep hold of herself during the fluctuations of her mind and body that are dominated by her gold. It’s the first day that Rori has noticed the hint of a glow and she nudges Inaskashath to reach for Akanyth across the world, late at night for them, early morning at Fort. << She wishes to speak to Arlet. >> Flakes of golden sunlight ripple across her mind, the sharpness of her axe-tones muted by the calm of darkness. There’s flickers of something he may sense even with the distance between them. << Would you be able to come? >> A pause, then she sighs, floral scents drifting on the night wind. << She says I may rise soon. I say I will not. It us up to Arlet to know what is best. >>
He may not like it, but Akanyth has a duty to the eggs so near to hatching and the queen he caught in the skies, and while he may not be on the actually Sands, he’s chosen a ledge high up on the wall of Fort’s hatching cavern to stand watch over mate and soon-to-be offspring. The morning finds his rider in another of the endless meetings that have eaten away at her days since she found herself with a Weyrleader’s knot on her shoulder, but while she must attend them, it’s all her prerogative to depart and end them when she pleases – a prerogative that Arlet now chooses take advantage of. << I will bring her, >> is all Akanyth is willing to commit to, bound as he is to queen and Weyr and unable to risk being drawn under the thrall of another. Arlet hasn’t bothered with her straps when she and her brown appear low in the skies over Honshu, and it seems that Akanyth’s paws barely touch the ground before he’s in the air again and Between, perhaps not entirely of his own volition. He dares nothing more to Inaskashath, returning to his watchful post. It leaves Arlet to head up the steps to Rori’s weyr and hesitate, unsure of her welcome.
Inaskashath’s ire is a ripple across the Weyrhold, soothed only by the distraction of another. She takes to the skies to entertain those who are awake enough to want to look at her. Rori’s dressed in her nightgown, a robe snugged tight against her middle with a loop of cord. She rises, moving with bare feet, to her front door. She opens it and looks to Arlet, unsure herself of what to do. She opens the door further for Arlet, waiting wordlessly for her to come in before she closes it behind them both. She hesitates by the door, takes a breath, and then moves to close the distance by wrapping her in a hug. “Thank you for coming. I know it’s not.. I know it’s not the best thing for you to do, to come to me. But she’s going to rise.” She keeps her face burrowed in the familiar comfort of Arlet’s shoulder. “And I didn’t want her to rise without first seeing you.”
Arlet looks Rori up and down before she steps inside, blinking to let her eyes adjust to the change in light. She keeps entirely in her own space until Rori moves for her, when she warmly wraps her arms around her in turn, a hand straying into her hair as she burrows her face into her shoulder. “I had to make him leave before he felt too much from her,” she murmurs. “…I can’t risk letting him chase, no matter how much we both want to. Even if he didn’t win, just chasing would be a betrayal of Fort when they’re just starting to take me seriously.” Ducking her head down against hers, she presses a kiss to her temple. “You’ll be okay, you know? They’re not bad. Flights. At least, I’ve enjoyed the ones we’ve won and you get to win either way.” She closes her eyes. “You’ll be fine. I don’t see her letting herself get caught by anyone you both dislike.”
Rori stays wordlessly tucked against Arlet, tension slowly ebbing from her shoulders. She draws back after Arlet’s kiss and reaches for the brownrider’s hand, moving to drag her towards the small couch she’s been resting on. She goes as if to sit and then stands, shaking her head, and moving to draw Arlet closer to her. “I thought you’d come and we’d talk. I could hear about Fort and all the things you’ve been doing since we last saw each other. I don’t want to think about tomorrow or the next day when she rises,” she takes a breath, her throat bobbing as she swallows down fears she doesn’t want to speak on. “We’ve never, and I’ve never, and… after all that we have, or had, or will have again. I want you,” she manages to babble out, rocking back and forth on her heels, unable to stand still as she speaks. Her eyes flicker to catch Arlet’s, a glimmer of want and need on display, even as she rubs her hands nervously against the folds of her robe. “Can you? Do you, want to?”
Arlet does sit down on the couch, freeing her feet from her boots before folding her legs beneath her, Rori observed through a somewhat wary gaze. “I only want to if this is you talking and not Inaskashath and her influence,” she says carefully and not unkindly, yet with an uncertainty she can’t quite conceal. “I don’t want to take advantage of you and I don’t want you to regret it. You might wish other things after the flight and I don’t want you to look back to now and think you made a hasty decision because she was going to rise.” She holds up a hand as if she could forestall a response. “It isn’t that I don’t want to. I have, for a long time. And as much as I’d rather your first time wasn’t in a flight, as mine was, I’m not sure I could live with myself if you chose now because you’re afraid.”
“I’m not afraid,” Rori sounds petulant in her response before she bites her lower lip and inhales deeply again. She lets out a whoosh of breath and moves to flop on the couch beside Arlet. She reaches for the brownrider’s hand. “I meant to ask a while ago, before Fort. And then Fort came, and I didn’t know what to do. It felt like it’d be a ruse to make you want me still.” She shrugs her shoulders, part of her robe drifting down to expose her collarbone. She taps her fingers along Arlet’s hand. “I want, not Inaskashath, or her influence. I want you. I’ve always wanted you,” she moves to rest Arlet’s hand against the flat of her abdomen. “I feel a pull for you I can’t describe.” She tips her head and moves to tuck herself against Arlet, “I wasn’t going to ask you. You came,” she lifts her chin so she can look up at Arlet. “And all I want to do is kiss you and be kissed. I’m tired of making you wait. Of making myself wait.” She draws Arlet’s hand to cup against her cheek, lips turning to press a kiss against her palm. “Please?”
Petulance draws Arlet to arch a brow and regard Rori with a plain expression of disbelief, though she doesn’t go quite so far as to call her out on it. What she does is wait, patiently, for her to sort through her feelings without any interference from her and without looking away from her the whole time. “Just because he won another queen’s flight, it doesn’t mean I stopped wanting you,” she says slowly, easing the hand that Rori has claimed back into her hair, finding strands to idly loop around her fingers. “Just like I know someone else winning her flight won’t mean you deciding you want them now.” She sounds less sure about that, but she manages the words with all the conviction she can summon. “You’ve never made me wait. I’ve never expected you to go to bed with me before you were ready. It’s not… waiting. I don’t need to sleep with you to love you.” And still, that said, she uncurls her legs from beneath her and gets to her feet, reaching for one of Rori’s hands to tug her after her. “And what I’m not going to do is sleep with you on your couch. We can do that another day, if you still want to.” She knows full well where the bed lies, perhaps better than her own before Fort, and it’s there that she heads for, pausing only to steal kisses along the way.
“I wasn’t sure,” Rori murmurs, sounding more like herself as she leans in to Arlet’s touch. “We haven’t seen each other and you’ve other focuses now. As you should.” Arlet’s thoughts on the time it’s taken for this step to be taken draws a bright smile to Rori’s face. “That’s why I’ve always loved you. You understand things most don’t. You see the truth.” She lets herself be drawn back off of the couch, unable to stop a girlish giggle that bubbles up at the mention of not using the couch. She shakes her head, blinking, and then she finds the journey to the bedroom distracting enough. She loses her control along the way, shed as her robe is on the floor, as they enter the bedroom. Nothing has changed since Arlet stopped sleeping in the space, items that have been found belonging to the brownrider are carefully laid on the bedside table on the side Arlet usually sleeps in. Rori hesitates between kisses, needing to say, “I don’t know what to do.” And yet, she knows Arlet will, “Show me.”
“There’s nothing you //have// to do,” Arlet promises, sitting herself down on the edge of the bed and reaching for Rori’s hips to draw her across her lap. “And if you don’t like it, then we stop.” Gently, she goes to draw down the sleeves of her nightgown, leaving it to pool around her middle as she returns her hands to her hips and applies herself to exploring exposed skin with lips and tongue, her focus such that it cannot be denied that she must have wanted to do so for many a month now. Eventually though, she twists at the waist to ease Rori down onto the bed and let the soft touch of her hands do some mapping of their own, all but forgetting her own clothes in the process. These, she discards in no neat manner, letting garments fall in crumpled heaps where they may, soon to send Rori’s nightgown after them. She makes no demands herself, seeking only to ensure that Rori finds pleasure in what passes between them, though, try as she might, she’s unable to conceal the possessive, triumphant edge that takes over before she curls up around her and tugs the sheets over them to keep out the cold.
Rori is lost to the sensations of her body – the feel of hands and lips on exposed skin, the want Arlet draws out of her. Hands, lips, tangled sheets. Her breath is erratic as she digs nails into skin, twists sheets beneath her, her body a tense cord that twists and turns as sensation demands it. Arlet draws words from her, tiny mewls of demands, that Rori does not have the sense to know what it is she says. After multiple completions have left her spent, she curls into Arlet and burrows her face in the brownrider’s hair. She rests for a time, before tentative fingers reach down, and she begins to return gentle kisses and nudges. She’s slow with what might please Arlet, her attention given fully as she tries to read Arlet’s body as well as her own was read by her.
Arlet may have had no expectation of Rori wishing to conduct exploration of her own, for she watches her carefully for a few long moments, as if she could discern any sense of obligation and so gently dissuade her. Finding none, and with body clamouring louder than mind, she lets her do as she pleases with her, the secrets of what she most enjoys easily surrendered, for she is not exactly subtle – or all that quiet – in her responses. By the time she’s hazily drifting and nuzzling her way down Rori’s neck, her next order of business is to tuck the pillows in around them, then the blankets, building a nest that she huddles down into, her arms securing themselves around Rori’s middle. “How long do you think we can stay here?” she murmurs. “I suppose I’m my own boss. I can take a morning off.” This, she says as she presses a kiss to the line of her jaw. “Akanyth hates me right now. Says it isn’t fair.”
Rori’s loathe to let sleep claim her, even with the comfort of pillows and blankets and familiar arms about her. She twists until she’s face to face with Arlet, her hand drifting to brush fingers against Arlet’s cheek as if she could memorize every feature with a touch. “Inaskashath’s out in the darkness entertaining her suitors already,” Rori admits, smiling softly as she leans forward to claim a gentle kiss from Arlet. “It isn’t fair to Akanyth. But he has other obligations. So do you. Why even fuss over a junior flight? He’s Fort’s leader, as are you. Is it going well? Are they treating you nicely?” She snuggles in closer, looping a leg around Arlet’s. Twining her body as much as her queen will with a mate in the coming days. “Tell me all about it,” she asks dreamily, hand drifting to rest on a hip.
“If it was anyone else’s junior flight, he’d not be interested,” Arlet claims, a hand straying up to play with the ends of Rori’s hair. “If we hadn’t been at Fort just as the leadership flight was beginning, we’d have been able to escape it.” But they were and they haven’t, so all she can do is let out a soft sigh and touch her lips to Rori’s shoulder. “I’m not sure that ‘nicely’ is the word,” she confesses. “The Weyrwoman is nice enough, but it’s a fractured weyr. Some want to move on, others want things to stay as they are. The Wingleaders are the worst. I’m going to have to replace at least half of them and //that’s// going to cause all kinds of outrage…” She shakes her head and delivers a quick kiss to Rori’s lips. “I don’t want to think about it. I’m staying here until the both of us absolutely have to be elsewhere.” She tucks the blankets more snugly around the goldrider, then slips from bed to head into the kitchen to make some tea. Cooking may not be her thing, but tea she can manage. It’s not long before she’s back in bed with Rori and tea and blankets, there to stay until a mightily aggravated Akanyth arrives to collect her and steal her back to Fort.