Fear in the Pattern

Writers: Clancey, Heather
Date Posted: 20th April 2015

Characters: Devyn, J'darin
Description: J'darin's first Threadfall as a rider ends....unexpectedly.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 12, day 15 of Turn 7

Devyn

J'darin

Hasaarth was on his ledge, bellowing a challenge to the gray, rainy
skies. He knew they would fight Thread today and it created an arch
in his neck and a proud booming of his voice across the Weyr.

His rider was _not_ bellowing a challenge.

His rider was, well, lets face it, hiding.

He was staring at the fighting straps and his riding leather and
refusing to get into them, even though they were due for assembly in
the Bowl within the hour.

Out loud, he said, "What if we forget out to duck? Or how to skip
/between/?"

The bronze roared in disagreement. }:I am an excellent dodger. We
will meet Thread and win.:{

"We will not be leading this time. Can you fly not in the lead, beloved?"

}:I am a leader wherever we fly. We will fly where we must and it
will be well. :{

J'darin shook his head at his bronze's confidence. Why was he surprised?

He heard Devyn in the other room preparing in her own way for Thread.
He turned back to the straps and began to oil them again. For
the eighth time at least. Nervous, him? Who knew?

Devyn strode into the room in her black riding leathers which gleamed
from the care she gave them. The greenrider's shoulder-length, sable
hair was braided tightly against her scalp to fit better beneath her
riding helmet and she already had her wherhide gloves on. Her hazel
eyes J'darin for a moment, taking in the nearly feverish way he was
oiling his straps.

"Put any more oil on those and they'll slip right off Hasaarth." There
was a light tease behind her words. She figured the ex-Weyrlingmaster
would be somewhat nervous about his first time back in the fighting
Wings in Turns. **Not that he should be worried, he and Hasaarth will
do fine.**

Startled into a laugh at her words, he shook off his worry and put
down the oiling rag. When he turned to regard his weyrmate, he was
struck speechless.

In her fighting leathers, the black ones, she nearly stopped his heart
with her outright sex appeal. Dangerous and ready to battle. He was
distracted momentarily from his almost neurotic nervousness by just
looking at her. He was never home when it was Thread and never saw
her like this, or at least, rarely. He had always been busy with
the weyrlings.

Oh what he had missed!

He took a couple of steps, determined, toward her. "If I'd known how
good you looked before Threadfall, I'd have made it a point to be home
every time." Arms encircled her trim waist and he pulled her against
him. "Care to help me forget my nervousness, gorgeous?" Though he
knew they didn't have time for what he suddenly wanted, which was to
take her right out of the leathers she'd put on out of his sight, he
could not resist.

He _was_ nervous.

}:Do not worry. We will flame Thread from the skies! :{ Another
bugle sounded and J'darin shook his head. "Clearly Hasaarth is not
sharing my nervous-ness!"

There was something about the adrenaline that coursed through your
veins before Threadfall, and the natural lust you felt for your
weyrmate, that made J'darin's touch electric on Devyn's skin as she
looked up at her strong, too-handsome-for-his-own-good lover. Sliding
her gloved hand up his neck and pulling his head down, Devyn kissed
him with desire coiling in the pit of her stomach that would have to
wait until they got back from Threadfall to be quenched.

"You are looking pretty good yourself, bronzerider." She breathed
against his lips, letting her eyes rake over his tall, fit figure
again. "And sometimes dragons know what their riders do not." The
greenrider smiled into J'darin's brilliant blue eyes as she reached up
and stroked his goatee.

"Terrible woman!" He said affectionately, then kissed her again,
returning like for like in the fire she had sparked in him. He did
finally let her go reluctantly and turned to grab his gloves from the
table. It was time for them to go and get ready to fly. While
she only flew half of Fall, it would be candlemarks before he saw her
again.

"You are right about dragons, love. Thank Faranth that Hasaarth is
confident! I will take my lead from him. I have to come back whole,
after all, and pay you a debt." His eyes deepened with desire again,
promising once more to finish what had started when they got home.

~*~

The world was a whirlwind of black and red, blood and /between/.
Voices swirled, speaking rapidly with urgency as jostling hands began
cutting apart the tattered riding leathers.

"The dragon?" a healer's voice asked.

"Minor scoring along the neckridge. Looks like the rider took the
brunt of the impact."

"It's a good thing these riding leathers work as good as they do, or
it could have been much worse."

"Minor scoring and burns on the torso, one really nasty score on the
neck, which is where most of the blood is coming from, and then some
mild to severe scoring along the tops of the thighs, down to the
knees." The second healer reported, listing out the injuries while
other hands got quickly to work sopping up blood and applying
numbweed.

"Instruct the dragon not to say anything to the weyrmate until
Threadfall is over. They don't need distractions in the air." The
older healer ordered, the voice already fading as it moved away from
the bed. "Oh, and a touch of fellis, just enough for a nap should do.
After all, we might have something worse come in before 'fall is
over." And then fading footsteps indicated that the healer had left.

J'darin and Hasaarth, meanwhile, were flaming sucessfully in the air
and dodging Thread as if they had never stopped doing it.

They had flown so well that a few of his fellow wingriders had
commented that clearly the former Weyrlingmaster had not lost his
Threadfighting skills in all the turns of not using them.

It had made him feel like a dragonrider again, and he and Hasaarth
fairly glowed with pride after Thread ended and they were dismissed.
Intent only on getting clean, finding Devyn and taking her to bed, he
didn't first notice that Ellyth wasn't on the ledge of the weyr they
shared. He assumed that they were still bathing, and instead
directed his bronze to land in the bowl so they could head to the
caverns to wash the stink off.

They weren't bathing yet when Hasaarth suddenly sent him a message.
}: Ellyth and Devyn have been injured by the Thread. They are the
infirmary. Ellyth wishes for you to come :{

Momentarily shocked that Hasaarth had called his weyrmate by her name,
he forgot that in the sudden need to race to the Infirmary. All the
pride, all the feelings of manhood, all his feelings narrowed to just
one feeling... fear. Flying against Thread for the first time in a
few turns had not caused fear the way the thought, the terrible
thought, that Devyn might be permanently injured or worse. She
couldn't be hurt, no not her.

**How bad.....**

}:They will live but they are hurt...they hurt. :{ Hasaarth mental
voice sounded tight with strain and the need to go to his weyrmate.

The long legged bronzerider ran as fast as he could across the bowl to
the Infirmary, looking for a Healer as soon as he arrived. He
grabbed the first journeyman he saw. "Healer? I'm greenrider Devyn's
weyrmate. Please... tell me where she is?!"

The lanky journeyman went wide-eyed at being grabbed up so suddenly,
"Over there." He pointed toward a bed that was hidden behind a
curtain. It was away from the noise and hustle of the infirmary. No
healers worked there, but all had scattered to work with other
patients now that they had done what they could for the greenrider.
"She's had fellis. She might not be awake yet." He warned J'darin.

"I don't care. I need to see her." He left the man behind as fast
as he'd grabbed him up and went to the curtain, pulling it back
cautiously. **Please let her be alright.. Faranth! To have _her_
hurt on _his_ first Threadfall.** It should be him lying there, not
her. It should be him! He would take her place in a second to
spare her one moment of pain.

He went to her bedside and tried taking her hand. He couldn't tell
if she was awake or not, but she had to know he was there, she had to
feel his presence.

"Devyn... oh my love.... I"m so sorry. Ellyth is alright, she is
going to be fine, they say. Just minor scoring. You took the
brunt of it, you brave, beautiful greenrider. I am here. Please be
alright." He continued to murmur softly, watching her for signs that
she heard him, or was awake.

He could not imagine his life without her any more than he could
imagine life without Hasaarth. He could not look down the turns
ahead and not see her beside him, hopefully with children of their own
someday. He could not see a morning where he wouldn't want to wake
up next to her and love her insensible, the way they sometimes did.

Over the last several months they'd been through good and bad times,
so much together. And now, just when they could really _be_
together.... "No, you are going to be alright. You are." He said
it with all the belief he had, and held onto that thought the way he
was holding her hand.

Last updated on the April 23rd 2015

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Fear in the Pattern