Not Such A Good Experience

Writers: Avery, Miriah
Date Posted: 7th May 2015

Characters: K'ran, Ninaine
Description: The aftermath of Luneth's flight doesn't go so well.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 12, day 18 of Turn 7
Notes: Mentioned: N'call
Notes: Takes place after "Luneth Rises"

K'ran

Ninaine

Soft pants and a contented moan issued from Ninaine as she laid back
on the furs, head still whirling from the overwhelming rush of emotion
and lust that she had experienced. Shards, it had felt so good...She
stretched, luxuriating in the sensation and basking in the warm
feeling that she enjoyed with N'call. It had to have been him that
won, afterall. No one else could have done this to her. Maybe if he
won all of her flights this wouldn't be so bad.

She opened her eyes and turned her head, ready to tell N'call that she
was so glad it had been him when her gaze fell on someone who was
definitely _not_ N'call. She immediately paled. Not N'call. Oh sweet
Faranth, N'call's Wingleader. She gave a squeak of slowly growing
panic. "It wasn't me, it was my dragon!" The words spilled from her
lips in a rush. He had seen her naked. Oh Faranth, he had seen her...
in a flurry, she grasped at the furs and pulled them up around her
neck. He had been..._in_ her! She didn't know him! And Faranth, she
had enjoyed it. She had vague memories of clutching at him, moaning,
urging him on...

She felt immediately ill and her face turned a rather putrid shade of green.

K'ran felt a lassitude and a sense of confusion about where he was
when he woke up. There was the weight of someone else near him in the
bed. He hadn't remembered - he surely would have recalled if he was
going to - but there wasn't anyone he -

}:I won Luneth,:{ Rogueth thought sleepily at him. The bronze was
possessively near Luneth and quite self-satisfied.

**Who-** But K'ran figured it out when he realized the dragon's name.
The weyrling N'call had gotten into trouble over. **Oh, Faranth.**

He'd never lost his holder morals despite living in the Weyr for
turns. Every time Rogueth won, he woke up feeling shamed about what
had happened between riders after their dragons twined. And usually he
stuttered and scurried away. But could he do that now? It would be
very rude to run out of a weyrling's first flight like he'd been
bitten by his own dragon.

He sat up, carefully turned away from her, using his hands to cover
himself. "Er...my duty to Luneth. I...hope your first flight was
okay... and I didn't hurt you or anything I mean," he blurted out.

Faranth, she had been with this man. In the way she had only been with
N'call and he could barely look at her. Not that she was looking at
him overly much either. She swallowed hard, her stomach roiling with
discomfort. He hadn't hurt her. Not at all; he had done the exact
opposite. She swallowed again. She wanted to get up and run away, but
she knew without looking that her clothes had some how been flung away
from the bed. As a matter of fact, she was able to recall with slowly
growing horror that she did much of the flinging for both of them.
"You didn't..." Her nerves conspired with her stomach to choose that
moment to divest her of her previously eaten breakfast. So unexpected
was it that she wasn't able to turn her head at the last moment,
instead sending the whole smelly mess directly at K'ran's back.

The bronzerider didn't see it coming, given as he was looking down at
his hands and trying to not be there. But then there was a sound, and
then suddenly the feeling of something wet and warm against his back.
And then there was a sudden smell to accompany it.

His modesty lost to his feeling of disgust and he jumped to his feet.
"Shards!" he exclaimed, more startled than angry.

Fortunately his shirt was within his view, as was a wash bucket with
towels, the kind kept around for freshening up after...vigorous
activities. He quickly dipped the towels in the water so they were wet
and then turned around, offering her the bucket and one of the towels.
"Do you, er, need this?"

Humiliation struck her completely as she realized what exactly it was
that she had done. The furs were soiled, he was soiled and now the
smell..."I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" She grabbed at the towel and wiped
her mouth, then tried swiping at the furs in a desperate attempt to
clean up. In the process, the furs she had tugged around her bosom
slipped and with a squeak, she tried to cover herself up. She glanced
up, saw him fully naked and flushed bright red. She backed away
instinctively and then flailed as she fell off of the bed and flat on
her back with a solid "oof!".

This was getting worse and worse. K'ran couldn't figure out how to fix
it, so he dropped the wash bucket next to the bed and turned back
around. "Uh...how about you take the bucket if you need it, and we'll
just call a drudge for the cleaning?"

"Okay..." Ninaine wanted to crawl under the cleaner furs and just
never come out again. Hurriedly, she found one that wasn't soiled and
wrapped up in, it, casting her gaze around for her dress. With a
relieved breath, she saw the material half-hidden under the bed and
lunged at it, yanking it towards her. She held it to her chest, trying
hard not to look at K'ran as she slipped it hurriedly over her head.
She stopped as she thrust her arms through the sleeves. It was ripped
right down the bodice. How had that...No, she didn't _want_ to
remember which of them had done that; she had a sneaking suspicion
that it might not have been him.

She clutched the torn pieces together and then swallowed, keeping her
eyes averted. She never ever wanted to do this again. Ever. She swore
that the next time she would hide out in her weyr and just ride it
out. "I uh...I'm dressed."

Fortunately, the bronzerider's pants had wound up on the side where he
was facing the wall and carefully not looking at her. So he stepped
into those and pulled them up. When she said she was decent, he turned
around. There was his shirt on the other side of the floor. "You could
wear that back to your weyr if you want," he offered. He could be
shirtless for the walk back to his weyr, if it made her life more
comfortable.

She looked a little lost still, and he felt the urge to try to be
reassuring. Just because he'd ridden a dragon for Turns didn't make
the post-flight aftermath feel natural or desirable. And for a
holdbred girl's first flight... she had to be feeling pretty bad about
herself, he thought.

"You controlled Luneth, and she's safe. You did your duty to her. And
it's okay if you just want to go back to your weyr now. I'm...sorry
that flights can make you feel terrible."

Yes, her duty. She had felt pleasure when he had...been with her. She
was like her mother claimed. She bent her head to stare at her knees,
but didn't pick up the shirt. All she wanted to do was bathe and she
didn't care if it was one of the larger baths in the lower caverns.
Ninaine just wanted to scrub the entire event off of her skin and
forget it happened. And he was probably disgusted with her, especially
since he was trying to get her out of there as quickly as possible;
she didn't blame him. She clutched at her torn bodice and rose
shakily, swallowing hard. "I'm sorry it wasn't a good flight for you,
bronzerider." She darted out of the room as quickly as her skirts
would let her and broke for the bathing chambers, desperate to get
clean and forget.

He didn't realize she'd taken it wrong until she ran out. "That's -
I'm sorry..." he called after the fleeing green weyrling. But it was
too late. He'd already chased her off.

**This is why I hate flights,** he thought.

Last updated on the May 8th 2015

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Not Such A Good Experience