F'dan, R'xim


R'xim tells F'dan about the fight in the Cantina. Their conclusion? Stay away from a certain goldrider.



It is morning of the fifteenth day of the sixth month of the second turn of the 12th pass.


F'dan's weyr, Igen Weyr

OOC Date


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F'dan's weyr

You can take the man out of Reaches, but you can't take Reaches out of the man: F'dan has decorated his weyr in his distinctly Spartan style, which is to say that it's almost empty and scrupulously neat. A desk is pressed to one wall, covered in precisely stacked sheets of notes: Threadfall patterns, maps, pages written in neat script. The chair neatly tucked under it is distinctly uncomfortable. In the center of the far wall is a large bed, laid with thin sheets for summer and thick Reaches furs in winter. At the foot of the bed is a clothes chest, made of good wood but undecorated. Beyond the bed a curtain covers the entrance to a small alcove with a large wash basin and towels. Everything is spotless and purposeful, without decoration of any kind. No home comforts here, not even a rug to spare bare feet from the cold floor: just a place for everything and everything in its right place.

It was a late night and now an early morning for R’xim, which isn’t that strange given his current schedule. Apparently he’s been up for at least a few candlemarks judging by his clean clothes and slicked back wet hair. Shalnth has no doubt spilled the truth to Kadanth about the events that transpired last night and it’s the reason why Rix is visiting F’dan at such an early hour: “Fen?” Stepping into the weyr without hesitation, he gives little regard to any potential ‘guests’ that may be present. In fact, he half expects to see Linny here but that isn’t what matters right now. What matters is that he finds his bro.

A woman being present would be the best possible scenario: a good screw always calms F'dan down. No such luck today; the weyr is free of any calming female presence. Instead the air is thick with testosterone and heavy breaths. F'dan is on a mat in the open center of his sleeping area, naked but for breeches, sweaty and flushed as he crunches through rapid sit ups. Each tense of his belly brings his body twisting alternate ways, elbow almost touching the opposite knee. It's about as bad as it gets in terms of when to find him with bad news: exercise always gets his hormones going. R'xim isn't even given a look, F'dan's eyes staying fixed on nothing. He's not speaking first.

Fucking hell. When R'xim sees F'dan in the middle of his morning routine, a very uneasy feeling settles over him. The type of feeling that foreshadows some kind of verbal punch to the throat that he's accustomed to after Turns of fucking up and F'dan smoothing things over for him. Stepping further into the weyr, Rix doesn't have a lot of options to hang out while F'dan finishes up, so he's forced to sit down on the wooden chest at the end of the bed. There he sits, waiting, hunched over with his elbows on his knees as he watches his bro from a safe and cautious distance.

F'dan isn't doing anything as obvious as frowning, but there's a look on his face that R'xim will recognize after long turns of experience, a permafrost coldness in his eyes that means no good will come of this situation. Sit ups done F’dan lies back for a moment, catching his breath before sitting up, arms bracing around his knees. R'xim is just looked at in silence, the 'socially acceptable amount of time to stare at someone' line crossed without a glance back. Fen’s always had a worrying ability to hold someone’s eyes far beyond the point where most people feel uncomfortable. "Do you know what I was doing at dawn this morning?" F'dan says finally, voice worryingly placid. "I was flying sweeps out over the arse end of nowhere to check on some fucking crop blight." The disdain he feels for farming is evident: some are born to till the earth, others are born in a Weyr for greater things. "You know how much sleep I did that on? Four hours. Because someone scared their own fucking lifemate away and he came here."

R'xim meets F'dan's gaze and holds it, a sort of alpha dominance stand-off that he always loses. Yes, he breaks away first, only to stare over at something across the weyr and since the place is rather bare it doesn't make for a good distraction. "Shalnth wasn't scared." Rix counters as his hand busies itself with the leather brace on his forearm. A different one since Mayte severed the other from his arm the night before. A few moments pass as he collects his thoughts and then, finally, he speaks in a low, matter-of-fact tone: "I was out for a drink with her. A drunk came up and I tried to level with him, even tried to buy him a drink." Reaching up to rub the side of his chin, Rix blinks a few times and then returns his gaze to F'dan. "He insulted her and I pushed him." He'll leave the assessment up to F'dan, but, truthfully, this is minor compared to the bloody messes he's been in before. But, it doesn't make him any less wary of F'dan's tongue lashing.

F'dan would be destroyed by Rix in an actual fistfight, but he certainly has threatening looks down to pat. Knowing that his bro would never seriously hurt him certainly makes it easier to size up to him. That look lingers longer before F'dan drops his face into his hands, grinding his knuckles wearily into his eyes. "I don't know how you do it. You are a sharding magnet for assholes. You ever considered delegating this shit to the people who are actually paid to deal with it?" His tone is sharp, but it's at odds with his movements: he shifts to kneel in front of Rix, reaching out without asking to look at his arm in its new brace, one hand holding Rix's arm at the bicep and the other his wrist. "You fuck this up on his face? Should I be worried about tripping on teeth in the cantina?" Apparently Shalnth — or Kadanth — hasn't shared everything.

"Fucking bouncers acted liked I was going to kill him or something." R'xim says as his arm is looked over. "Wasn't like that. But, they did grab hold of me here," a gesture to the brace, "and I thought my arm was on fire. Pulled me back and rubbed it against the bandage." Recollecting how he was restrained causes him to involuntarily wince. "Mayte cut it off when we got back to my weyr. Skin was rubbed raw and it bled a bit, but now I have to go back to the fucking infirmary today." It's a setback he can't afford right now. Having just gotten to the point where he could lift heavier objects with that hand, Rix is now back to square one. There's a pause between them as he keeps his eyes lowered in that familiar submissive manner: "Wanted you to hear it from me. Mayte's going to talk to W'rin, but I have no idea what he's going to do to me now."

“With your track record it was probably best to expect you to kill him. Better to be pleasantly surprised.” F'dan keeps a hold of R'xim's arm, and it's unclear whether he intends to tear it off or just cradle it in some stunted show of affection. “You can be incredibly fucking dim, you know that right?” Most of the menace is gone from F'dan's voice though, just a frown remaining. “I am this close to that Weyrsecond knot and they're not idiots. They know we're a package deal. If you fuck this up…” R'xim's arm is turned as if F'dan's testing how much movement it has, and then another pause before F'dan lays it gently down, his voice softer. “You better take it easy with this, Rix. I don't want you ending up crippled.” For the Weyr, for himself – they both need R'xim whole. And in case that moment of care drags on too long and people start worrying F’dan’s gone soft: “you sleep with her?”

The look R'xim shoots F'dan is an indication that he's dangerously close to jerking his arm out of his bro's grasp, and that's when it is released. Sitting up now, Rix tries not to look incredibly phased as he's being threatened and lectured, but, truthfully, he hates this part. Clearly a glutton for punishment, it doesn't seem like anything can get through his thick skull at this point in his life. Perhaps he's just a hopeless cause. The brace is looked over and a sudden "Psh" is heard after F'dan's final inquiry: "Fuck no. Every single time I'm around that girl I'm either getting yelled at or being kicked out of a bar." There's some obvious irritation in his voice before Rix heaves a sigh. "I need to just stay away from her. I mean, that's what I was trying to do when she showed up at my weyr in the first place." Both hands run through his hair and he lets out a snort of laughter: "At this rate, I'll probably die if I actually sleep with her."

F'dan tilts his head as R'xim speaks, and when the other man's done he stands up, going to look for something in his desk. “I know why you're being so weird about this,” he says conversationally as he rifles through a drawer. “It wasn't Shalnth that woke me up last night.” Might have been polite for him to have mentioned that before he blamed his bro for his lack of sleep, but oh well. Better late than never. A little pot is found and F'dan straightens again, coming back to stand in front of R'xim. The anger has dissipated like a fog in a breeze: he and Rix might go at it like felines trapped in a bag, but their squabbles never last long. F'dan's eyes are intense now, fixed and intense. “It was Kadanth. He bespoken you recently?” Since F'dan knows it has happened occasionally since Weyrlinghood. “He's worked up again, Rix. Rhiscorath's starting to turn. That's why she's under your skin and you're under hers.” And then without a beat, the pot held out: “ridiculously fucking strong numbweed. Keep it.” A peace offering.

The peace offering is accepted and R'xim looks over the small pot with an impressed nod. "Thanks. Could've used the stuff last night." He won't ask where F'dan procured the container from because he really doesn't care — if it takes the pain away, Rix won't ask questions. The sudden realization of why he's been terrorized by the goldrider is starting to make sense now, especially since Shalnth would rather be anywhere but perched on his ledge. No one ever said R'xim was the most perceptive guy when it came to proddy weyrwomen and it seems Shalnth has been more agitated than usual lately. When the pieces are put together, Rix just rolls his eyes and lets out an exasperated groan. "Fuck me, you're right." There's a pause in between thoughts and a hand gesture toward Shalnth on the ledge. "He's the one being weird." Then, suddenly, light dawns on yonder head: "I think he's actually starting to give a fuck. Rhiscorath…" R'xim looks as if there's some kind of conspiracy against him, so he stands up and paces toward the entryway. There he stands with his arms folded across his chest as he stares out at Shalnth in silence and in thought.

“Just be careful with it. Almost fed Kadanth my own finger when I put it on.” A rumble from out on the ledge at that: it had tasted horrible. Numbweed isn't meant for dragon mouths. F'dan stands and watches as his bro moves out to the ledge, following to lean in the entranceway with a grin on his face. Anger forgotten, apparently – at least for now. “My little Rix, all grown up. Think of what your mother would say to see Shalnth all moony over a gold.” Another step forward and F'dan grips his friend's shoulder briefly. “It's so cute I could almost stop being pissed at you.” It's true in that he’s still pissed, but it's also a gentle tease. The disaster seems to have been averted, at least for now.

R'xim is still standing in the entryway looking…intense. Nothing good will come of this. In fact, the very idea of Shalnth taking serious interest in a queen is just beyond what Rix can comprehend at the moment. Sure, the bronze chased juniors at High Reaches and even decided to chase a senior here at Igen, but he's never wanted the prize bad enough. Not like, say, Kadanth would want to win. Finally, R'xim shows signs of life when he exhales slowly: "I can't be around her when she's in full swing. Shit, you've seen Linny when she's proddy. What the fuck is Mayte going to be like?" Well, considering how she carries a knife somewhere on her body at all times, the very thought makes him shudder. Moody, proddy, blade wielding goldriders aren't anything he wants to be around. "I'll just have to keep avoiding her. And Shalnth needs to stay away from Rhiscorath."

F'dan snorts. "Well I'd put my last mark on her being nothing like Linny for a start. Doubt she's going to start getting her horn on just because Rhiscorath's getting glowy." Mayte seems far more the angry kind of proddy weyrwoman than the flirty kind — unfortunately for the boys. Shalnth is given an assessing look, F'dan properly looking at the bronze in a way you don't normally observe something that has been there since forever. Big, strong, in great shape…. Might just be his time. "You can stay away from her all you want. Might be a good idea." A big grin for his bro. "Good luck getting Shalnth away though. When they want something…" He lets out a whistle. "Best not to stand in the way of something that size when they've worked up an appetite."

"I'm not going to be able to stop him if he makes up his mind." R'xim says, still standing with his arms folded across his chest. Shalnth is given a once over before Rix lifts his shoulders in a shrug, a grumble of irritation escaping him once again. "I think you're right, though. Mayte's probably going to turn anti social or something, she won't throw herself at everyone like Linny does." The very thought causes him to shake his head as a hand reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "This isn't fucking good. I get pissed off when Shalnth starts taking over, and if she's just as bad as I am, one of us is going to end up bleeding." Chances are it's going to be him. Looking up and out at the bronze, R'xim raises both brows in defeat: "I'm fucked."

F'dan straightens with a grin, moving to give his bro's shoulder a squeeze. "Gets easier if you just accept that they run the show. Anyone who thinks we're in control of stuff doesn't know shit." Or at least, that's how things go with Kadanth: F'dan is allowed to think he’s in charge until what he wants doesn't square with Kadanth's plan, and then the bronze takes over. Threadfall and goldflights are Kadanth's undisputed territory. "Just roll with it. If Shalnth wants her there's nothing on Pern that'll stop him." His grin here turns lecherous, a jab of his elbow given to Rix's ribs. "Anyway, you'll love it. Promise. There's nothing in the world that comes close. When he's twined with a gold and you're with her rider…" an involuntary shiver goes through him. "And it's Mayte's first. She deserves a good one." And F'dan knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that Rix is more than up to that particular task.

R'xim winces a bit when F'dan jabs him in the ribs and seems a little too distracted to retaliate. Consider it a freebie, bro. Shaking his head again, Rix takes a few steps toward Shalnth as F'dan continues talking. Until… "Wait, what?" Something his bro says snags his attention and causes him to suddenly turn around: "Oh this just keeps getting better." Another 'psh' is given. It just hasn't been R'xim's month because it would just figure that Shalnth is interested in a maiden gold. F'dan's compliment sort of makes him feel better, but it doesn't stop R'xim from throwing his hands up in frustration. "How much do you want to bet that he's going to be obsessed with her afterward?" Rhiscorath, that is. "If he wins. He's going to be a pain my ass and Mayte's." A pause is taken as he stares at the bronze, almost as if there's a silent conversation happening between them, or perhaps it's just Rix trying to regain control of his runaway mind. Then finally, in a calmer voice: "I suppose I'll worry about it when the time comes."

"They're supposed to get obsessed," F'dan says with a shrug. His eyes move between the two bronzes with evident affection. There isn't much that can make F'dan bring out his softer side, but dragons definitely do it, and the puppy-eyed look he shares with Kadanth is a rare treat. "It's their job to fight off attacking wild felines or giant wherries or whatever. You know. Get those eggs hatched safely." Another squeeze of R'xim's shoulder here, F'dan's voice softer. "Yeah, no need to worry until Shalnth starts blooding. Just keep clear of Mayte unless she's in a good mood, keep your head down, focus on work. The last thing you need is W'rin paying even more attention to you." Though to be fair F'dan can hardly talk there. He's been on W'rin's mind for all the wrong reasons recently. His face breaks into a grin again though — Shalnth wanting to chase for real is just too good. “You know if she’s pissed at you it means Rhiscorath’s interested in him. Always the way.”

All this talk is just too much for R'xim. Too much talk of commitment, too much talk of emotions, it's just… ugh. "All right, all right. Enough." Hands are raised again and he gives F'dan just enough time to remove his own from his shoulder before stepping toward Shalnth. The cold reality will be here soon enough, they don't need to dwell on all the possibilities right now. "You're right, though. I just need to focus on getting this better." Brace is examined again before he grabs hold of a riding strap with his good hand. "I'll come back for that jar later. Gotta get to the infirmary now." And before he begins to climb, Rix looks over his shoulder at F'dan: "I'll let you know how it goes." Chances are he won't be at drills later because of his aggravated injury.

F'dan steps back towards the entrance to his weyr, raising a hand in a lazy mock-salute as his bro climbs up between Shalnth's neckridges. "You take care of that arm. No more playing knight in shining armour if you want to make it out for Thread again." A grin and then he heads back inside to finish with his exercises. On the ledge Kadanth gives a bugle as Shalnth takes off, wings half-spreading in acknowledgement.

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