An Impulsive Gesture of Friendship (1/2)

Writers: Estelle, Iluva
Date Posted: 20th October 2025

Characters: Z'kylo, R'fal
Description: They wake up together after the flight
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 8, day 17 of Turn 12
Notes: Mentioned: T'lin

Z'kylo

Z'kylo fell back into himself in a sharp intake of breath, abrupt and devoid of ceremony.

His head swam with senses that would have been crashing too loud, too deafeningly bright if it weren't for Veth's soft presence. Her voice, momentarily bristling with the cold fury of being intercepted-- and bested-- had given way to a warm pulse. Barely a whisper now, wherever she lay content and utterly spent with Marlath. And thankfully Z'kylo felt that before he felt anything else. He gave a slow, experimental stretch, but the dull aches lodged in his hips and back didn't seem to matter as long as gratification emanated along the edges of Veth's quiet, sated sleep.

That was what was considered a fast flight for a green. It did not feel like it -- not in the lead-up, not in the moment. There was sweat cooling and heat running down his arms and chest, and belly, always a lot to take in. He had no idea how goldriders did this.

It finally occurred to him, on its own and without too much of the customary panic, that of course Marlath's rider was still here. Z'kylo raised up on an elbow, taking a deep breath. He turned, just enough to double-check that those unruly curls were indeed R'fal's, and could only heave a sigh of relief that at least it wasn't the Weyrleader.

R'fal felt someone moving beside him, still dazed and hardly knowing where he was. There had been a green dragon, glittering like a jewel, leading them in an impossibly agile dance, diving and rolling, always just a fraction out of reach. He remembered her taunting, teasing cries, the snapping and growling of the rival males, the struggle against his burning desire to make himself hold back, to wait his chance. And then, how she'd twisted and dived and turned at just the right moment, and with one perfect wingbeat, he'd hurled himself forward and claimed her.

There, the memories dissolved into doubled fragments. Necks and tails twining in the air, mouths bruising, stumbling together into the dimly lit room and onto the bed...

A jolt of panic broke through the pride and drowsy satisfaction he felt from his bond with Marlath. Had it happened again? While he was caught up in his dragon's passion, had he hurt someone? His eyes snapped open and he sat up, and for one panicked moment he couldn't read the greenrider's expression. "Oh - uh... Hello?"

Z'kylo felt the slight jolt as R'fal sat up beside him, but he still startled, flushing a dark crimson as he stared back. He decided to give them both a little space and leaned back into the pillow a fraction, full of unexpected embarrassment, uncertainty, and an attraction he didn't know how to make sense of with Veth entwined in his senses like this.

"... Hello." He replied, cringing internally at how he made that one word sound so supremely awkward. It was hard to imagine getting used to this part of a flight, either-- waking up next to whoever rode the male dragon. "I'm Z'kylo." He also didn't know exactly what was written on R'fal's face, but it felt odd not to be the one almost immediately panicking right now. "Are you alright?"

"Oh - yes. I'm fine...just surprised, I never thought Marlath would win, I thought she'd be far too fast for him..." R'fal inwardly cursed himself. Even if, thankfully, the greenrider didn't seem distressed, he was rapidly making things worse by acting like a farm boy fresh out of weyrling training. "Are _you_ alright? You're not - I didn't hurt you, or anything?"

"I was a little surprised, too." Considering how badly Veth had wanted Calaroth.

But there was not a word or whisper of complaint from her now. Marlath had proven himself. That was enough for her. If Z'kylo was tempted to give in to the faint hope that maybe he was handling this landslide a little better, or maybe that Dolphin Cove in general agreed with them far better than Dreams End, it wasn't given much room to grow with them both still very, very naked.

"No. No, I'm alright. Thanks." Z'kylo assured him earnestly, even as he tried not to take internal stock of the brownrider's imprint on him. He bent a knee to instinctively shield himself, honestly a little mystified. He had never been met with this kind of concern before. Ever. R'fal looked about his age and he seemed... nervous. Z'kylo wondered if _he_ had done something reminiscent of Veth's first flight. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, not at all. Really, it was..." R'fal found himself babbling in sheer relief that it hadn't gone badly, mingled with echoes of Marlath's desire and his own sudden awareness that he was naked in bed with another rider, with only flashes of memories of how he'd got there and no idea what he was supposed to do now. "It was good - the flight. For me. It's only that Marlath hasn't flown many greens before. Actually, this is only his second, the first one with a male rider, and I was worried it might not have been, for you." Shells, he was sure T'lin would have handled this much better.

Rather than feel relieved they were unharmed, Z'kylo's face flushed blood red again.

Any flight that didn't emulate Veth's first was practically a lovely experience at this point, but having to stop himself from automatically trying to reassure this man of that was not.

"Okay, good. Great. Then... we're both fine." He managed to piece out. He was never quite sure what to do next, either. Try to relax a little, maybe, now that they knew everyone was alright, though his breathing was still kind of fast. Nothing to hide that with other than the pillow under his head and a knee already trying its best. Z'kylo ended up going with laying there, too exhausted from the day to decide.

Eventually, his light eyes refocused, glancing to R'fal's face, then politely away. Somehow, someone as equally uneasy with the situation weirdly made him feel calmer. "It's R'fal, right? How long have you been a rider?" Z'kylo asked as he stretched his arms, curious.

"Three Turns. Marlath was from one of Panitath's clutches, the same one where gold Santhiath was hatched," R'fal replied. The tension left his shoulders and he relaxed as it sank in that no one had been hurt. He hadn't made a complete mess of things - at least, not so badly that the greenrider wanted to flee the room immediately. He was about R'fal's age, taller, blond and very fair, striking enough that the brownrider remembered seeing him around the Weyr, although they'd not spoken before. "I was Searched from a cothold. Well, you can probably tell," he added, chagrined. "How about you? You're a transfer, right?"

"Yeah." Z'kylo nodded. "Searched, as well. I... well, I Impressed Veth at Dreams End, two Turns ago. We came here a few months back."

Had it been that long? Time had all but twisted itself around Veth, reshaping everything. Life before her felt like one world and life after... something else. Like how Turns were remembered by the Queens that marked them; a name dividing everything into before and after. Just the name Santhiath and a sense of when could suddenly be laid bare.

"To be honest, it's been a lot," Z'kylo admitted, rubbing a sun-reddened hand down his face, "but maybe better? Some days I don't know." He exhaled softly. "And I don't know if it helps, but it wasn't obvious to me, either. That you were Searched." Was that something that could be read in a person this quickly? Apparently R'fal thought so. Z'kylo might have thought it was unusual, but not unpleasant to have someone express such a reach of concern. Still, he chuckled ruefully, "But I... really can't tell a lot of things."

"It's only that a weyrbred rider, or even someone from a big Hold, would likely be a lot more...at ease in this situation. So I've heard," R'fal explained. He managed a tentative smile, relieved that he hadn't come across as a complete dimglow - or at least, if he had, the greenrider was too polite to tell him so.

Since this time he wasn't in a desperate hurry to get out of the room, he could take time to breathe and look around, letting the drowsy sensations of Marlath's pride and contentment flow through him and calm him. "Would you feel better if we, uh, put some clothes on? Maybe go and get some klah...if you want?"

"Yes." Z'kylo answered, hardly a beat between R'fal's voice and his own.

Quietly it was appalling that he'd been lying naked next to a stranger this long and hadn't felt the urge to start pulling clothes back on until now. He would just try not to dwell too deeply on that fact, now or later. Blame the flight, and Veth, and the syrupy satisfied way she sprawled in the back of his mind.

With a similarly tentative grin, Z'kylo clarified, "Yeah, I'd like that." He sat up, and as he quickly surveyed the mess of clothing strewn across the end of the bed like it belonged to neither of them, he realized he couldn't remember what either of them had been wearing.

"Er. Any idea if this is... yours or mine?" He asked behind a blue shirt, using it to hide his still reddish face.

Last updated on the October 28th 2025

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An Impulsive Gesture of Friendship (1/2)