Who

Selaine, F'in

What

After Akitith's flight, F'in bumbles onto a tender topic.

Flight aftermath; sexual themes

When

It is night of the twenty-fifth day of the ninth month of the fourth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Igen Weyr, Reika Encampment

OOC Date 05 May 2015 07:00

 

selaine_default.jpg f-in_default.jpg

"They turned their backs."



F'in's Wagon

A bachelor's wagon, to be sure. Spartan appointments and little in the way of frippery.


Igen evenings bring little comfort from the heat and the inside of F'in's wagon is rather stifling with bodies occupying it. A light sheen of sweat covers coated Selaine's sleeping bare form with not even a thin sheet. Had there been one, it was likely that the greenrider would've kicked it off in any case. Her breathing is even, one hand resting beneath her cheek while her other arm hugs anything (or anyone) close. Eventually there is some movement as her mind regains wakefulness, thoughts still connected to her green, who's smug thoughts are sleepy and curled up beside Rhakanth.

Outside the Reika camp is going about its evening. Cookfires send embers and smoke aloft, voices murmur and call, livestock low. This farflung wagon of the the Reika's dragonriding son is rather assiduously ignored, despite that there's no doubt his and Selaine's arrival went unnoticed. And though the sun is long set and music has begun to play reaching them like woodsmoke drifting between the wagons, it is still hot. This weather is right in F'in's wheelhouse, as others may have surmised yesterday when he was tearing down the path playing with Rhakanth, mindless of the temperatures that are perfect in his mind. Anything cooler than coursing blood is all right by F'in. Even so, the shuttered windows of his wagon are left thrown wide to let in any breeze, and with it the everpresent dust and grit in the air, but that's a small price to pay for the stirring of air. It is hot though. No question. The bed is a small one, though even were it not, Selaine would find the bronzerider curled against her back, close, arm draped heavy and loose over her side, face buried in damp hair against her neck. The sheets under them are damp. As for what Selaine's arm is wrapped around? It's the ball. Somewhere an Igen color commentator is hollering 'GOOOOOOAAALLL!' For Team Rhakanth? Team Akitith? Probably both.

Rhakanth stretches, rumbling quietly in the unpleasant cacophony of his voice, made bearable only by the low volume and the thrum that sends shivers through thick hide in resonance, buzzing into Akitith's own leaf green still touched with bright shimmering afterglow. There is a place in the Labyrinth, a quiet place of falling water, glimmering pools, a white marble column, that all softly reflect starlight high above, the stars themselves seeming to have descended to drift around in firefly glows amidst cheery lanterns, rough hewn stone and over all a sense of quiet. Peace. Contemplation. It is hard to know in a thing as vast as the Labyrinth what point is the Center, but the ebb and flow of breath and thought expand and contract to here, where a golden cord has looped protectively around the spry sprig of a sapling pine tree, new grown.

Within the waking conscious, the music drifts slowly into her mind. Ball-wrapped arm twitches for a moment before Selaine shifts her position, turning beneath F'in's arm towards his much cooler body, snuggling and tucking her head just under his chin. One arm slinks around his waist as she settles, refusing to fully get up. There is little heed to what might be going on around or rather, outside, the wagon. The greenrider's thoughts drift in and out, reveling in the comfort of another human body, despite the heat. As for the ball, it rolls off the bed with a soft thunk.

The resonance of Rhakanth's voice echoes through Akitith's mind even as she feels him stretching beside her. Her own mind is colorful, dark forest greens intertwining with that of the Labyrinth. Soft glowing lights float between the trees, blinking as they weave through the tall trunks. The golden cord keeps her secure within its grasp, and the forest is quite content, quiet. A soft breeze wraps itself around the forest, gently ebbing around the stone where the water falls. Akitith shifts, and is still once more.

The body shifting against his brings F'in awake swiftly, though not abruptly, a curtain thrown wide to welcome the light of consciousness. Or maybe the light is Rhakanth's satisfaction. He's feeling pretty good sprawled out with Akitith on the rocky outcroppings between the caravan grounds and they Weyr proper. The tension in F'in's body changes from the loose languor of deep sleep to something powered by a rousing mind, his arm tightening as Selaine turns, pulling her closer, breathing more deliberate, a big inhalation drawing arms tighter still, until finally his eyes flutter open and fall on Selaine's face, dim in the glow of moonslight falling through shuttered windows. His breath catches. She's lovely. Caught up in Rhakanth's basking, F'in pieces through the flickered impressions of the catch and its aftermath. Rhakanth's drive rolling through him, roaring through him, soaring, himself and not himself. Akitith, Selaine, blending, blurred. Pale skin in dark pine bowers. Twined limbs amidst glimmering pools. Hard to separate in his mind. Rather it's hard to see her, to see himself through the powerful overlayment Rhakanth's mind.

A satisfied sigh escapes Selaine's lips as she feels F'in's arms tighten around her, skin on skin. There's lingering sensations left from the flight and all that happened afterwards. While one arm is around his waist, the other hand rests on his chest, feeling the even rhythm of his heart. A sturdy and broad chest. Eyelids flutter open and there's more movement from the greenrider as she shifts again, hugging him closer. "Mmm… I could get used to this…" she mutters, still only half awake as the memories of their bodies intertwining slowly make their way back into her mind. Now it's Akitith's turn to stretch on the outcroppings, only to settle back into her previous position. She's comfy, all right.

F'in's faintly somber expression eases and he smiles at Selaine's mutter tipping forward to press his forehead to hers. "They were incredible," F'in shakes his head, the play of the pillow under his head and the press of his forehead against Selaine's allowing only a brief movement, arrested as he recalls the feel of Rhakanth's mind, the rush of his strength bent to purpose, not unlike flying Thread, but… life affirming. F'in pulls his head back, looking at Selaine's face, craning a bit to see what he can of her, "Are you okay?" It was… what he remembers and what he can feel in furrows and scrapes and torn muscles… rough. Maybe he'd born the brunt of it. Ahem. In as much as that's possible.

Rhakanth nudges his muzzle up under Akitith's, trying to get as much of her onto him as he can manage. He's much more comfortable than the rocks, see. The Labyrinth is broad and bright in contrast to the night fallen with out. Hawthorn hedges full of sweet-scented flowers, ring the stony inner walls. The Weyr stretches out before them, the lake, the bowl, the bazaar, wagons on the caravan grounds where their bondmates lay similarly entwined. « Akitith. » Whispers echo the name again a cloud obscuring the sun briefly, Akitith. Akitith. The golden cord, looped lazily around the sapling pine, shifts, tightening its protective encirclment.

Another flutter of eyelids when F'in presses his forehead to hers, a peek through half-open eyes brings along an all too familiar face. Selaine 'hmms' softly, closing her eyes again. Life affirming indeed. It really was a different sensation, the flight coupling. The dragons' much more so, overflowing into that of their riders, making it impossible to resist. As F'in pulls away, Selaine peeks open one eye to look at his half-shadowed face, one side illuminated by the moon outside. She'd almost forgotten how handsome he was. "Mm.." There's a bit of stretching, though she does little to shift from her position completely. "A little sore… but aside from that…" she answers softly, feeling some soreness all around, though nothing she couldn't handle.

There's no grumbling from Akitith at Rhakanth's nudging and she's willing enough to rest on him, in any case. Much more comfy than rocks. Yes, she likes that. Confirmed by a nuzzle from the contented green. The loving echo of her name causes at certain glow within the forest. She responds with a wordless reply, content and belonging etched into her mind as they wrap ever further with his. Hers. His. The branches and leaves seem to be fluttering, giving off a light that has nothing to do with any metaphorical sun. The sapling pine is pleased with the protective cord. It'd take much to separate the two.

The bronzerider collapses from his craning with a sigh. "Good." He brushes a bit of damp hair from Selaine's cheek, fingers threading into her hair as he pushes it back. "What did you tell your folks?" Pale eyes look back and forth between Selaine's. It's been turns since they'd last spoken about Selaine Impressing. About how her family wouldn't understand. Turns and F'in still remembers the exchange. He can't imagine a life without his family. It stayed with him. "What did they say?" Holders. There's a stitch of concern. This exact situation is part of why Holders were so down on riders. Ravaging their daughters in the blind throes of dragonlust. And if their daughters were the riders… Heaven forfend.

The glow spills from pine boughs to hawthorn hedges as night begins to fall over the Labyrinth, brightly colored lanterns hanging in the still-luminous boughs, strung along a golden cord that loops from branch to branch out into the piney wood, quiet and frangrant, lit now with leaf light and lantern light, dappled pools glowing in the deepening shadows.

Selaine's eyes close once more when his fingers brush her cheek, pushing hair back. The question throws her off, body stiffening within is embrace, eyes opening only to glance downwards. "Nothing…" she replies, voice soft. "I haven't heard from them since…" her voice is barely above a whisper as she wraps her arms tighter around him. Perhaps the lingering sensations make her more sensitive, too, as the greenrider finds it difficult to hold back the tears that form in her eyes.

There's a slight twitch of Akitith's tail as their minds continue to mingle, lulling her back into sleep. The lanterns' light fades in and out as evidence for the withdrawing consciousness. Another breeze throughout the forest and the Labyrinth, blending into each other seamlessly and without end. Where does one start, and the other end?

"What?" F'in's brows furrow, his mouth open, puzzled, "Selaine? Wha-" OH. His hand continues it's path, smoothing hair and brushing her neck before slipping across her shoulders and pulling her close, arms drawn tight a mirror of her own, but protective. A shift of shoulders and neck see him curling over her, her head tucked into the crook of his neck. Cheek pressed to Selaine's hair, F'in's eyes are open now, wide. He's glowering from under his brow, "You told them and…" he nuzzles at her hair, "They turned their backs." It's a question, posed as a statement. F'in closes his eyes, jaw muscles bunching.

Rhakanth will remain awake so Akitith can rest, the Labyrinth's baffling corridors sweeep out further and further until they disappear from sight, the beautiful forest, a labyrinth itself, blending with hawthorn and limestone. No one will intrude on Akitith's rest while Rhakanth stands sentinel.

The quiet sobs rack Selaine's body even as F'in holds her close. Who called on the waterworks? Though F'in's voice does wonders to soothe the ache that her family could never fill. She indulges in the comfort that he brings and her tears eventually stop, followed by a few sniffles. "At least… I have everyone at the Weyr.." she comments after giving herself a moment to calm down. When was the last time she had cried? She couldn't recal. "Everyone here is more so my family than anyone else…" Her voice is still soft, husky from her crying. Snuggle.

And Akitith sleeps, knowing that she's got Rhakanth to stand and watch, her mind a whirl of memories of scents, sounds, and images both real and not. More often than not, the Labyrinth is in her dreams, that golden cord so intertwined with her forest.

"I'm sorry." F'in's arms wrap tight for as long as it takes the pain to work through her. He's not really good at … words and simply lets closeness and warmth serve. "You do," he smiles. Everyone at the Weyr. "And Akitith Akitith Akitith." He shifts bringing his forehead down to hers again, peering into her eyes, "You're always welcome here." With the Reika. F'in says so. And probably Onari. And Forin and Kona. They were good about taking in strays, the Reika. But, here here too. Close. She's not the only person he's said that to, but… it's no less sincere for that. It's a big heart beating in that broad chest. F'in ducks his head forward and kisses Selaine lightly, just as on cue: the stomach rumble. He laughs, wincing, eyes crinkling at the edges. "I bet we could cadge some leftovers before they get put up. You hungry?"

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