Heat and Echo

Writers: Duskdog, Iluva
Date Posted: 12th June 2025

Characters: Nidre, Th'reyos
Description: Nidre and Th’reyos wake up together after Jossenth’s flight
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 8, day 15 of Turn 12

Nidre

Th'reyos

Th'reyos stirred, his awareness slowly springing back with the feeling of something… wet sliding down his face. The room was warm, the thick sweat just beginning to cool. Zarkarth's influence ebbed away, no longer the roaring, all-consuming bellow of the flight, but a low, satisfied hum pressed against the bare edges of his thoughts.

Chasing was nothing new, not even when it was a goldflight. They'd had their fair share of chasing over the Turns. But this was… this was different. It had never happened at another Weyr before. That was a first. So was the level of intensity still throbbing in his veins; thick, aching, persistent. His heart was still beating like it still didn't know the chase was over, that they’d _won_. Countless goldflight partners over the Turns. Mad scrambles to free enough of themselves to find release. Stone slamming against his back, missing the bed entirely, entangled limbs, completely indifferent to _where_ or _how_.

But never like this. Never with the eye of that storm. Not caught at the epicenter of that wild spiral and allowed to ride through those tangled waves together.

It wasn't like this, never like this. This must be how a Weyrleader felt. Only he had no Weyr to lead - only a woman pressed tight against his side. His hand splayed out over most on her tanned shoulder, breath filled with the scent of her hair and their sweat. His leg was still wedged somewhere between hers. Two people made of sharp angles and hard edges, but it was comfortable, close.

He sighed, content, and reached up to wipe whatever was running down his cheek before it reached Nidre's shoulder - and froze. Hmm. The first clue that it was blood was the hot slickness. The second came when he opened his eyes and saw the vivid red stuck to his fingers. The third - unnecessary, really - was the dull pressure in his nose. A bloody nose. Another first. No idea how that happened.

He could not bring himself to care in the slightest.

Instead, Th'eyos let out a low, satisfied chuckle, shaking his head at the sheer absurdity of it all. Zarkarth - that smug, stubborn bastard. Somehow against all odds and in _Dolphin Cove_ of all places, that arse had _caught a sharding gold_.

Nidre had been vaguely awake, drifting in that half-dream where she was both present in the room, feeling the sheets around her and the weight pressed against her, but also a little bit outside herself and not yet sure that she wanted to acknowledge the world just yet. There was an ache in her body, but it was an ache that she typically enjoyed, and Jossenth’s contentment -- heavy enough to dull her own senses a little -- slumbered warmly in the back of her mind.

His chuckle was a bit like the morning sun peeking around the edges of the curtains in a darkened room -- rousing, impossible to ignore but not entirely unwelcome. She gave a little stretch -- really just a roll of her shoulders, her spine -- and turned a bit to get a proper look at the face of the man whose dragon had just come out ahead.

“...I don’t think I know you,” she said, bemused. “But if I did _that_ to you, I’m sorry.”

“Pff don’t be sorry. I’ve had worse.” Th’reyos shot her a lop-sided grin as he wiped his hand along the sheet. “I just hope I didn't do anything to deserve it.” He took a brief moment to appreciate the sight of Nidre next to him, bold but not lingering. “What about you? Got any bruises or bites I should apologize for?”

“Hmm…” She hadn’t really been concentrating too hard on individual sore spots, but a quick moment of consideration told her there were probably a few. “Maybe, but nothing I would ask you to apologize for. We’re here for the experience, hmm?”

He was handsome -- that was always nice, though she supposed it didn’t really matter in the heat of the moment -- and she didn’t bother hiding her appreciation of it as she eyed him. “You’re not from Dolphin Cove, are you? I’m sure I would have noticed before now.”

“You sure? Nothing that needs kissing better?” Th'reyos teased, a glint in his eye as he caught her gaze, still enjoying it on him, even as he blotted the last bit of blood off his face.

“Nah, Dragonsfall’s been our home these past two Turns.” He said with an easy shrug, “I just popped over to get some heat and catch up with a few old ‘mates from our Vista Point days.” How much visiting he’d planned on doing had been cut short - though given the outcome, he wasn't complaining.

Something clicked, slowly and distant in the corner of his mind still thick with Zarkarth's pride, his dragon's satisfaction saturating his synapses. “Wait. You’re not from here either, are you?”

“Vista Point, ‘til recently,” she replied, frowning -- in a thoughtful way as she examined him more closely, not an unhappy way. “You were there, too? Huh, small world! I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you.”

Mock-offense shifted across Th'reyos’ thin face as he pressed a hand to his heart. “Ah, I didn't pay much attention to goldriders back then, either. I think I've come to my senses a little.” He shrugged, easy but deliberate, “I dunno why, too unattainable, I guess. Out of reach.” At least until today.

He studied Nidre’s fine features again, certain their paths _had_ crossed before. But he'd also had a weyrmate back then. She and Nidre looked about the same age, actually, but he had no desire to think of Hailone now - that he was the reason she left Vista Point and her absence coupled with his mistake was his. Th’reyos’ mind rebelled, shoving the thought aside, letting Zarkarth’s heady triumph pull him back to the present.

“Apology accepted.” He said with a grin, “I'd like to hope I'm _mildly_ unforgettable after today. And, for what it’s worth, Dolphin Cove looks good on you.”

“Thank you, I think so, too,” she replied cheekily. “And yes, you certainly will stand out now. To everyone in the Weyr, I suppose -- the bronzeriders won’t dare look you in the eye this sevenday.”

Jossenth stirred at the back of her mind, utterly satisfied. Nidre couldn’t be sure yet, of course, but she suspected the gold would also be utterly pleased to have put the bronzes into a bit of a tizzy. She never intended any harm, but she did so love to stir trouble.

“Pay no mind to anything anyone might say. Your fellow… Zarkarth? Won fair and square. And Jossenth is very pleased.”

“It ain’t the bronzeriders I’m worried about.” Th’reyos chuckled again, lifting his mess of blond hair away from his forehead. His chest shook with the absurd joy of the moment, ribs fluttering against taut skin. It was probably a good thing they lived in Dragonsfall, otherwise Zarkarth would have the bronzes here pushed to their very last nerve. “Zar may as well be Carenath at this point. He’s beyond pleased. Never gonna hear the end of it.” And perhaps that was fine. Fair, and square, as Nidre said. Th’reyos also didn’t mind stirring the pot once in a while, and he wasn’t about to fight the satisfaction of what his brown had achieved.

A slow roll of his shoulders, trying to dislodge the feeling of strained wings radiating through their link. Then he turned on his side a little, hazel eyes half-lidded as he arched a brow and said in a low, enticing voice, “Just Jossenth?”

Nidre shifted a little to better face him, pretending to consider. The post-flight soreness was a welcome sort of pain, in a way, and flightlust always seemed to echo afterwards for a while, much diminished but undoubtedly still present. One corner of her mouth raised in a half-smile. “Hmm, I have an opinion, but maybe we should give it another shot, just to make sure.”

His smile sharpened, a quiet heat building behind it. “Careful,” he said, thumb brushing the inside of her wrist. “I’m not delicate, but I should probably start carrying bandages around you.”

Her lips curled into a smile full of sensual promise. “Don’t worry, I’ll _try_ to be gentle this time.”

Last updated on the June 23rd 2025

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Heat and Echo