Loser Gets Dessert

Writers: Iluva, Steel
Date Posted: 25th July 2026

Characters: R'zen, X'rion
Description: R’zen meets another rider and has lunch
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 4, day 24 of Turn 13
Notes: Mentioned: K'valdran, I'serin, O'rock

Ibranth lifted his head, peering at the dragon who’d just alighted near him. Who was that? He _knew_ all of his classmates and the Weyrlingmasters’ dragons.

R’zen patted his blue’s leg as he slid down. “That was _awesome_, Ibranth. You’re getting faster all the time. Go sun now, it’s fecking cold in the shade. I’m gonna go eat lunch.”

Angualdith noticed the other dragon’s curious stare and, upon snapping his wings closed, returned the look.

He was still looking as he hunkered down low to the ground to let his rider off, who, rather obliviously, was still busy chatting away to him as he half-heartedly attempted to untousle his hair. Eventually the lack of reply changed the gears turning in X’rion’s head from the previous hour’s sweep-riding to present-moment curiosity, tone teasing. **Still with me, Ang? What’s up?**

}:A baby.:{ The brown said, somewhat bemused. }:I forgot how small they are.:{

**A baby?** X’rion stepped around the front of his dragon to get a quick look at Ibranth. **He’s not even that small, though.**

}:Smaller than me,:{ Angualdith remarked smugly.

Patting that dark muzzle affectionately, X’rion only mentally rolled his eyes. The blue looked to be a good size already, actually-- and so, as it turned out, did his rider, now that X’rion was actually looking. Blond hair, bright chatter, plenty of enthusiasm. Huh. Straightening his leather jacket, he was already approaching the youngster’s rider, a wide smile emphasizing two dimples deep enough to lose half a mark in either. “Hey, how’s it going? I should probably leave the introductions to Angualdith, but I’m X’rion.”

Ibranth stared back, unblinking, and his tail lashed side to side as he considered the bigger brown in turn. _He_ wasn’t about to give way first. He’d faced bigger dragons before. He knew he was fast. Perhaps he ought to challenge the brown to a race?

The dark blue dragon shifted his weight uncertainly from paw to paw. Used to charging ahead, he did not _quite_ understand his rider's newfound semi restraint.

R’zen, startled from his thoughts, looked up sharply. “R’zen.” He responded. “This is my Ibranth. What do you-- I mean… Hi. It’s… fine, I guess? I just finished flying with Ibranth.” That was polite… right?

“R'zen.” The other rider grinned up at the blue. “Yeah, I just finished with Ang, too. Hi, Ibranth.” **Say Hi.**

A loud rumble shook the air ghosting the brown's chest and sent it vibrating along the ground. }:I am Angualdith,:{ he said at last, deciding that should suffice. His tail lashed back as he straightened to his full height, deciding he liked youngsters and, more than anything, would probably like showing them what to do.

“The wind was crazy today, wasn't it?” X’rion turned his grin back to R'zen. His demeanor was easy, like they knew each other from way back, stretching his arms slowly over his head and wiggling his fingers. “Where are you from? I don't think I've seen you before.”

Ibranth drew himself up to his full height as well, uncaring that this Angualdith still outsized him, Bigger didn’t mean faster, after all. He snorted again, ruffled his wings. }:Mine has already given my name.:{ he responded.

R’zen hesitated, a moment longer, but this guy _looked_ like he was half decent. Plus… from the knots he was a full rider.

“I'm a weyrling.” He responded. “I… guess you could say I was from a Hold, but it's not like _that_ matters anymore. I belong in Dragonsfall Weyr.”

A pause, and then he added, “Ibranth’s a great flier. We can handle a little bit of wind.”

“Well, I'd hope so, otherwise Thread's gonna have you and Ibranth for a light lunch the first chance it gets. Wind's no joke.” X’rion chuckled. Ambling toward the entrance to the lower caverns, he glanced back to see if R’zen was coming, jerking his head to follow. His grin had also widened, now a smile. “Which would be too bad, cause he looks like he's gonna be a powerhouse up there once he’s grown. And you're kinda cute.”

}:Do you always let Yours speak for you?:{ Angualdith asked with a snort of his own.

R’zen had started to follow, in fact. At X'rion's words, he missed a step and stumbled. His eyes went wide. “_What_?” He croaked, everything else he was about to say forgotten.

Ibranth’s head snapped up as well, and he flared his wings, spreading them again. }:I trust Mine to speak for me. :{ he responded. }:Unless there is something that I must do myself. Like challenge you to a race.:{

Angualdith chortled. }:Is that what you're doing?:{

X'rion paused and looked back in oblivious curiosity. Oh. Oops, perhaps he shouldn't have said that. His brown’s eyes glittering with sudden excitement, wings opening in acceptance of this supposed challenge, he did quietly urge him to go easy on the younger dragon.

Angualdith nearly vomited. The absolute _nerve_. }:Never.:{

**Ang, seriously. Remember, he’s a baby. You said so.** To R’zen, he said, “Sorry, but you must have heard that before, though. Oh-- do people not talk that way in the Holds? I never know.” Nor did he care to ever find out.

Instead of deigning to respond to Angualdith at all, Ibranth sprang skyward, flapping mightily. }:I will circle the whole Weyr before you, Angualdith!:{ he bugled.

R'zen's mouth opened. Closed. And then he bristled as his face and ears turned red. “Ibranth’s awesome. He's gonna be the _best_ blue up there.” He responded to X'rion's earlier question. “And Holds are dumb. You’re not missing much.” He made a face. Hesitated again and then let out a huff. “No one's stupid enough to make fun of me to my face.”

“I've always thought that about Holds, honestly. Anywhere without dragons is bound to be backwards in some way.” X'rion noted the blush and absently wondered if he ought to shut up at that last remark, but shrugged.

}:You may try.:{ Angualdith rocketed up after Ibranth with a growl that X'rion's stomach enthusiastically echoed as he started down the corridor to the lower caverns. “Ang may be big for a brown, but he's fast. Hope Ibranth can keep up,” he said slyly, grabbing a plate and entering the line.

“Ibranth’s not full grown and we just came back from flight practice.” R'zen said, but he'd found his proverbial footing again. “But he's a blue. Everyone _knows_ they're faster than browns.” His eyes lit, and the tension in his shoulders eased. Just slightly. “So what if I had to start flying later than the rest of my class? I'm _still_ going to be first pick for the Fighting Wings.”

He took a plate of his own. He _was_ hungry, after all.

X'rion stacked an assortment of the day’s offerings and tossed a fresh meatroll onto R’zen’s plate without looking. “You like these?” He sounded far more curious when he next asked, “Why were you held back? Was it ‘cause of your eyes?”

R'zen huffed at him, but accepted the meatroll, slung a redfruit back in X'rion's general direction. “I like savoury way more than sweet, yeah.” He huffed. “And _nothing’s_ wrong with my eyes.” He added. “ … Or yours, I guess.” That was a compliment, right?

It was. Or, at least, it was taken as one. “Well, shucks, R’zen.” The corners of X’rion’s mouth lifted as he caught the redfruit and bit into it. He had a full plate besides and then a mug of klah he didn’t want to slop right now, which thankfully he did not, and so the redfruit got carried between his teeth til he got to sit down. He took another bite before setting it beside his plate. “You sure it wasn’t your eyes? Did you not see the sharding _size_ of Angualdith’s wings?” He smirked.

His eyes briefly glazed over as he checked in on the race, felt the wind whipping over his hide, and when they sharpened back into focus, they were bright and keen. “It’s gonna be close.” He started to eat. “Loser gets dessert?”

“Tch.” R'zen scoffed. “Bigger just means _slower_.” He could feel Ibranth's fierce exhilaration, the way the blue hurtled forward in typical all out fashion. It echoed back along their bond, mingling with R'zen's own _pride_ in himself and his dragon. The blue weyrling _grinned_, letting some of it show in his expression. “I hope you're ready to get dessert then.”

“Not always,” X'rion said with no small amount of feigned innocence, shedding his jacket and draping it on the chair next to him. “Bigger sails move more sky, and you haven't seen my guy fly. Yet.” This bluerider was cocky like few other weyrlings he knew, and where some might find that irritating, X’rion, however, laughed almost with delight at the taunt and nodded. “Guess we'll see. Get it. Eat it. I'm ready for anything. Hope the same goes for you.”

Returning the grin, he asked, “What Wing are you hoping for when you graduate?”

**Faster**, R'zen urged Ibranth, and the blue flung himself forward, surging to gain still _more_ speed. }:I will win, Mine.:{ the blue promised.

R'zen's grin broadened into a smirk. “Oh me? I'm headed _straight_ for the Weyrleader’s wing.” He responded. “Ibranth’s got the size. The speed. I've got the smarts and the determination.”

“I'll have to put a good word in for you.” X'rion winked, chewing another bite of redfruit. “Once I've seen some of those smarts myself, that is. You'll like K'valdran, though. He's a hard-ass. It's great. Not like I'serin at all.”

High overhead, Angualdith was seeing the speed firsthand. He didn't go easy on Ibranth, he wouldn’t just hand him a victory, and Ibranth was not making this an easy flight for _him_ by any means. But the blue was harder to shake than he anticipated, which was not something he'd be admitting to anyone. He made a last-ditch swoop at the younger dragon, but it was too late.

It was not a win by much -- the only thing that did soothe Angualdith’s ego, plus the unshakeable knowledge he'd been born with that he was still the superior flyer -- and he landed in a sulk on the heights. }:Good game,:{ he conceded, grumbling.

R'zen huffed again. “I don't need help.” He muttered, but took a bite of meatroll. “I can earn my spot all on my own. You'll see. _Everyone_ will.” he added, and squared his shoulders. “I'll _prove_ it.”

Ibranth touched down, and then sprawled there, breathing hard. He'd _done_ it. He'd raced a bigger dragon and _won_.

}:We will have to race again.:{ He told Angualdith. }:Later. Mine will remind me.:{

}:Yes, we will,:{ Angualdith answered immediately.

“That was a joke, R'zen. I've got no sway in any of that,” X'rion said lightly. “Why were you late to fly, anyway?”

R'zen huffed at him. “I got in trouble, okay? It's not like it's a secret.” He made a face, and took another bite of meatroll. “I know better than to get in a fight over something _dumb_.”

X’rion’s eyes were on his plate, not looking at him but listening. He did not make a face. But when he looked at him again, sipping his klah thoughtfully, a lot of time passed before he answered. “That’s good.” Curiosity lingered behind his hazel eyes, but it felt like the question had struck a raw nerve somewhere. “Just get it out of your system now, because K’valdran’s not going to tolerate that. Most in the Wings don’t, really, not unless it's a flight or a lot of beer is involved. Our fight’s in the sky, not with each other.” He set his mug down and smiled. “Fingerroot cake?”

“... He's still a wherry-brain.” R'zen responded, but took a deep breath and let it go. “... I guess it's fine. You're right.” He added, a little bit stiffly. “As long as we can do our jobs, I don't have to think about it.”

And then he finished the meatroll, nodded once. “Fingerroot cake.” He confirmed.

“Alright!” X’rion gave the table a decisive slap as he got up and returned barely a moment later with two plates of cake. “Shells, it was going fast. I thought I was going to have to wrestle an auntie for this.” It was moist and richly spiced with shaved fingerroot dusted over the top, though right now X’rion seemed more interested in the icing.

R’zen snorted again. “You versus some old lady’s a funny idea.” he said. When he took his plate, it was to promptly scrape the icing neatly off the top of it with a knife and plop the excess squarely onto X’rion’s plate. “There. Eat it, if you want.” Or don’t.

The brown rider hadn’t _said_ he didn’t like sweet things after all.

No complaint from said brownrider, who grinned his thanks. He promptly ate half of it, not all of it with an actual fork, and then finally started in on the actual cake. “I’m _pretty_ sure I could take her,” he joked, winking again. “But my ma would skin me. What do you think? Any good?”

R’zen considered a moment, then took a bite of his own cake and grinned. “... Yeah, actually. I like it.” He responded. “It’s not too sweet, huh.” A pause, and then he added, “... What’s your favourite dessert?”

The dimples in X’rion’s cheeks deepened. “Yeah, it’s just right, isn’t it?” He paused to consider R’zen’s question, absently licking stray icing off his knuckles in a way that was pure Weyrbred comfort. “Hmm… Any sort of cake, probably. I don't know if I'm that picky. As long as it's sweet, I'll eat.” He paused again, then perked up suddenly with realization like it had been the thing to find _him_. “Oh, but one time we were doing transport and the Baker Hall had these little puff pastries with some sort of spiced cream. They were like eating a cloud. So, that.”

“Sweet and you’ll eat it, huh?” R’zen responded, with a considering sort of scowl. “You must _love_ bubbly pies.” A pause, then he added, “Spiced cream?”

Hmm. “Some desserts would be better with pepper on them. Or the spicy sauce. Like… like redfruit.”

“Oh yeah, those pastries were awesome. Klahbark and something else, if I had to guess," X'rion replied.

The implication lurking beneath R'zen's words at the mention of pies made him snort, his expression going a shade incredulous. “Why do you say that like it's a bad thing? Lots of people like sweets. You're the one talking about putting pepper on dessert. That's a… choice.” A shrug. Could be a weird Hold thing for all he knew. “I dunno. I'd still try it.”

“When I’m allowed to between and stuff, I’ll go find them.” R’zen decided. “Relax, it’s not like I’m gonna start pouring hot sauce all over your desserts. You can keep your sweet things.” he adds. “I… did like that fingerroot cake though.”

“You better not.” X'rion laughed. “But who knows, maybe you’d discover the next great culinary combination.” Angualdith brushed his mind, then a second time, still pouting and eager to get ready for afternoon drills, and X’rion knew better than to keep him waiting. His plate clear, he slung his jacket over his shoulder and said, “See? Sweet things aren’t so bad. See you later, R’zen.”

Last updated on the August 7th 2026

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Loser Gets Dessert