The Perfectly Safe Bluerider

Writers: Heather
Date Posted: 8th November 2024

Characters: Rasme, C'ris
Description: Rasme and C'ris reflect on their unusual relationship while celebrating the goldrider's birthingday.
Location: Barrier Lake Weyr
Date: month 2, day 14 of Turn 12

Rasme

"Happy Birthingday to youuuuu. Happy Birthingday to youuuuu. Happy Birthingday deaaarrrr -"

"C'ris, if you don't shut up I'm going to smash this cake into your face," Rasme warned.

The bluerider's grin never faltered.

"Happy Birthingday deeaarrrr Rasmeeee! Happy Birthingday to youuuuuuu," he crooned low into her ear.

The goldrider and bluerider were both wearing nothing _but_ their birthingday suits. They lounged in Rasme's bed with a cake on a plate between them.

The man's mouth opened and he inhaled as if he were about to start another verse.

Quickly, Rasme snatched a handful of the cake and crammed it into his mouth.

"If you ask me how old I am you might have to die."

C'ris laughed, spraying cake crumbs in all directions. Icing was smeared across his nose as well.

"You forget, my lovely goldrider," he said, licking his lips clean. "That I already know _exactly_ how old you are. Why, I'll never forget it. Baby C'ris meeting _the_ Goldrider Rasme. I was all of twenty-five, you were all of forty-five. Seduced me right out of the creche, you did."

Rasme rolled her one eye, but a grin was tugging at her lips. She'd heard this story before, but it never ceased to amuse her.

"_You_ introduced yourself to _me_, if you remember correctly, bluerider," Rasme pointed out.

"Oh, my love," he dipped his finger into the icing and then offered it to her. "I remember it well," he said as her mouth closed on his finger....

~*Flashback*~

"You don't have a chance in 'fall with her. She's a _goldrider_, you're a _bluerider_, have you forgotten?" G'daren laughed, slapping C'ris on the back.

C'ris weighed that comment with a grain of salt. It was true, the woman was surrounded by bronzeriders, partially because her golden lifemate was due to rise any day, and also because she was one of the sexiest women he'd ever laid eyes on. He felt sure the other men in the room felt that same pull towards her as he did.

"Not to mention, she could be your mother," P'velrus joined in.

"Age schmage," C'ris waved his hand before tossing back the rest of his ale. "This is the Weyr, you prudes. Watch and learn!" He called the last bit over his shoulder as he strode across the room, through the middle of the dance floor, and over to where Rasme sat, with a flock of suitors.

"Milady," he addressed her with a flourished bow and an outstretched hand, "might I have the honor of a dance?"

Rasme's eyes flicked from the man's hand to his shoulder knots. **Thank Faranth, a bluerider.** She'd been swarmed with bronze and hopeful brownriders all evening. It was always that way when Piketh was glowing. It wasn't as if they could become the Weyrleader by winning Piketh's flight, but every man wanted his dragon to sire a clutch.

A bluerider was perfectly safe.

"You may," she said, placing her hand in his.

As C'ris swept Rasme out onto the dance floor, he caught sight of G'daren and P'velrus over her head and gave them a wink. She smelled _exquisite_, he thought. She was light and agile on her feet, and her hips fit perfectly into his hands.

Rasme was surprised at the man's silence. She had expected him to be a blabber-er while they danced. A lot of blueriders liked to blabber. She tilted her head back to study his face more. His dusky skin was burnished from the sun, but in a pleasing way. There was a lively glint to his blue eyes. He was young, she thought, at least, younger than her by a chunk. Still, by the set of his shoulders and the firm bit of muscle she could feel under her hands, he was no boy.

**Probably in his early thirties,** she guessed.

~*~End Flashback~*~

Rasme and C'ris were in tears of laughter as they recounted the story.

"Do you remember the day you found out how old I actually was?" C'ris said as he wiped his cheeks.

"_Do_ I? How could I forget?"

~*~ Flashback ~*~

"You're _twenty-five_?!" Rasme's voice had reached a fever pitch.

C'ris's face was uncharacteristically tight. "I thought you knew," he said, throwing his hands up.

"How would I know?" she demanded hotly.

"You're a _goldrider_, you work with the Weyr records."

"I didn't see your hidework when you transferred in!" Rasme turned and began pacing the length of her living area, her hands burrowing into her hair.

He stood watching her pace, the anxiety on her face evident. They'd been seeing each other, okay, sleeping together _a lot_, for the last six months, and things had been going well... Until he'd received that letter from his sister about his birthingday.

C'ris's heart sank into his stomach. **She's going to end this.** He could see it on her face. The normally blunt goldrider was actually searching for the right words to tell him they couldn't see each other anymore.

"Rasme." He stepped into her path. He reached up and took her hands out of her hair and held them against his chest. "Please don't do this. Why does it matter?"

Her eyes were steely. Her voice tight. "It matters."

"To who?" he whispered.

"To me." Hot tears coursed down her cheeks.

~*~ End Flashback ~*~

"I'm glad I finally brought you around," C'ris said as he trailed a finger up the back of her thigh, over the swell of her buttock, and along the curve of her back.

Rasme licked her lips, but they were curved in a rare smile. "You were persistent."

"I know a good thing when I see it." His lips were near her ear again, but this time the rest of him was pressed up against her as well. "Now, how about that birthingday massage?"

"Do with me what you will, bluerider," Rasme said, wiggling her toes with delight.

Last updated on the November 23rd 2024

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The Perfectly Safe Bluerider