Post by Anna on Aug 10, 2008 21:11:06 GMT -5
The Season is the Reason (Out of the Blue 22)
Anna Smith (Z'leena)
23.01.17, StarRise Weyr
Z'leena looked up as the light patter of a familiar tread reached her eyes. She watched as Aninya gracefully wove through the lunch crowd to reach their usual table. She gave her grey-eyed daughter the briefest of smiles as Aninya threw herself in to her chair. Aninya heaved a huge sigh, then leaned towards the plate that Z'leena had prepared for her and grimaced.
"Greens?" she protested.
"They're good for you," Z'leena told her firmly, pointing at the plate. "Eat them first, and the rest of the food will wash the taste out of your mouth."
Aninya sighed again, and picked up her fork. She managed to get the briefest amount on to it and screwed up her face as she put it in her mouth. Z'leena chuckled quietly. It was a familiar ritual and one she thought Aninya did simply for Z'leena's benefit.
"What have you been doing today?" Z'leena asked her daughter, her own greens rapidly disappearing in her haste to get the unpleasant consumption over and done with.
"Dying!" Aninya announced happily. "The journeywoman is letting me help create a new dye for the linens she's weaving. We get to test out all the combinations first. Look!" Aninya presented her dye-stained hand to her mother for inspection. "See that browny-yellow stain? I made that one!"
Z'leena dutifully examined the dyed hand and murmured her awe of such talent. It was a rather pretty shade, seeming to be a rich dark gold. "You have a definite talent for this craft," Z'leena said. "Your grandmother was the best weaver at Waylay Seahold when I was very young."
"That's what Uncle Dano said," Aninya nodded. "I'm going to be just as good as her."
Z'leena smiled again, then stiffened. Closing her eyes briefly, she followed the trail of emotion that had suddenly intruded on her mind. It was familiar and unwelcome, but completely unavoidable since she'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time that graduation day.
Thief was rising.
"Nin, I've got to go. Shall we meet for breakfast tomorrow?" Z'leena asked, already rising to her feet.
Aninya frowned, but nodded her acceptance. "Not dinner?" she asked wistfully.
Z'leena shook her head and smiled apologetically. "No, love. Thief is rising."
"Oh!" Aninya said in sudden understanding, her eyes lighting. "More eggs!"
"Eventually," Z'leena agreed wryly. "Tomorrow, Nin."
Aninya nodded, firmly pushing away the rest of her greens and turning her attention to her mashed potatoes and fried fish.
Z'leena hurried from the dining cavern, avoiding as many people as she could. Thief's emotions were growing from a trickle to a tide as she hunted down and killed a hopper. As the little queen firelizard blooded her kill, Z'leena ran up the stairs that led to her weyr. She had one on the lower level because of Aninya, and the animals that had adopted her over the turns.
Just as she passed through the entrance, Thief discarded the dead animal and hissed. Her hunger had transformed to a sensual defiance and she crouched on the table, daring the gathered bronze firelizards to catch her. With a screech, the little queen took to the air.
Z'leena couldn't block out the emotions tumbling down her link with Thief. She could separate herself from the firelizard to some extent but everything the gold felt, she felt and it left her a little … flustered.
And uncomfortable. Suddenly the room was hot and close. Z'leena felt like she was suffocating in her clothes. With a disgusted snarl, she pulled off her leggings and untied her sash. Her oversized white shirt hung to mid-thigh and was light enough that she didn't toss it aside to. She paced around her weyr as the gold's flight continued and tried to think of anything but that.
Her ears picked up the knock on her doorplate and the growl that emanated from her throat was supposed to make her meaning clear. She was not in the mood for company. Unfortunately from the other side of the weyr's doorhanging, the noise sounded more like an "enter" and the person requesting entry walked into Z'leena's lair.
"Z'leena, I've just got this complaint from K'lan about Skyna. You're not going to believe what that bluerider did." T'chock ambled in to the weyr, shaking his head over whatever he was reading. The beads in his braids clicked together lightly. "That woman's an idiot. D'you know," the bronzerider paused to pop the last bite of the meatroll he carried in to his mouth, "that she -- "
"Get out."
T'chock blinked and looked up as that deadly voice chilled the room. "Uh…Z'leena?" he asked hesitantly, eyeing her unclad state warily. "Somethin' wrong?"
She didn't answer, but her hand moved towards the table where her knives, still sheathed, rested. T'chock blinked again, suddenly understanding he'd picked a bad time to come. A really bad time.
Their eyes met and both froze in mid-motion. For an endless second, neither moved. Z'leena, almost overwhelmed by the firelizard passions roiling in her mind and hormones, still retained enough of herself, barely, to know how close she and T'chock were coming to lines they had an unspoken agreement to never cross.
T'chock was a friend. Z'leena had few enough of them that the thought managed to stay her hand. He was intruding on her in an intensely private moment, one she did not wish to share with anyone, and only the value she placed on their friendship kept her from following through on reactions that nine turns of dragonriding and safety had never dimmed.
The day she drew a weapon in anything but practice on the ex-caravanner would be the day she lost that friendship.
Right at this moment, that thought mattered by the tiniest fraction more to her than the need to eliminate the intrusion.
And she could see, in the widening of T'chock's gaze, that he realized just how close they were coming. He, his reports, and the whole sharding wing could take flight for the Red Star for all his senior wingsecond cared. Z'leena could tell that he had realized, as well, that just as she had encountered a line she preferred not to cross, he had met one as well.
If T'chock did not leave, and quickly, it would be his actions that destroyed the friendship.
"Not a good time, I take it. Gotcha. Talk to you later." T'chock beat a hasty retreat. He didn't think Z'leena would really pull a knife on him, but he hadn't lived this long by taken risky chances. He's seen her use those knives. She wasn't a nice fighter.
"Man, oh man, oh man. What lit her off?" he wondered out loud as he reached the bottom of the stairs. "That is one seriously ticked of woman."
"Who?"
T'chock looked at the approaching voice. It was his wingleader, a conscientious man who had a deep interest in all of his wingriders. He generally let T'chock and Z'leena -- all right, mostly Z'leena -- do as they saw fit, but he did keep close tabs on what that was. He hadn't rescinded Z'leena's order for earlier drills, either, and that was a serious failing in T'chock's eyes.
Come to think of it, L'ndel hadn't stood against any of Z'leena's decisions or actions since he'd taken over the wing just a seven day ago. He was a relative newcomer to the Weyr, which might explain why. T'chock doubted it, however. The caravanner turned dragonrider just couldn't decide whether the man was intimidated by the tiny brownrider…or interested in her more than just as his wingsecond. He hadn't been at StarRise long, so he wouldn't know the way things stood.
"The brownrider," T'chock told him, gesturing up towards Z'leena's weyr. Even her cats were conspicuously lounging around on the ledge, and not inside the weyr itself. Cats were renown for their keen survival instincts.
L'ndel frowned. "Is she all right?"
T'chock shrugged. "Z'leena's always all right," he answered.
"Mmm." L'ndel eyed the weyr anxiously and straightened his shoulders. "I'd better check on her," he said firmly.
"No, man, you don't want to do that," T'chock warned him, putting a detaining hand on his shoulder. His wingleader shrugged it off.
"She's my senior wingsecond, T'chock. If something's wrong, I need to know about it."
T'chock hesitated, then shrugged. "Your life," he muttered, heading for the kitchen. He needed something to eat.
L'ndel watched his junior wingsecond lope off then turned back to the stairs. He had to admit that some of his concern was personal. Z'leena was a very attractive young woman, if a bit sharp edged. The distance she seemed surrounded in was intriguing and daunting. But L'ndel could never pass up a challenge, and the brownrider seemed to be the very definition of the word. He'd just go on up, display a bit of concern for her welfare, and hopefully thaw some of her ice.
The multitude of cats on her ledge took him by surprise. There was at least a dozen, maybe more, in all stages of life. One cat was heavily pregnant and another was sitting on a miniscule ledge, watching three half-grown kittens with an exhausted, wary expression on her masked face. L'ndel wrinkled his nose. How did one person live with so many cats? he wondered.
"Wingsecond Z'leena?" the wingleader called, pausing to knock on her doorplate before advancing in to the room. He glanced around quickly. The places was tastefully decorated, lending the cold stone walls a homey, warm atmosphere. He couldn't quite picture this as Z'leena's lodgings. It seemed to open, too soft.
"Get out."
L'ndel turned and smiled. He stepped towards his wingsecond, noting her flushed face and glittering, golden eyes as he approached. Something was different about her. She was normally as distant as the Dawn Sisters, but today there was something intense about her, almost pulling a person nearer.
"Wingsecond, I just came to see -- Bloody shells!"
The woman pulled a knife on him!
"Get out!" Z'leena snarled, the knife hurtling from her hand towards his face.
L'ndel flinched to the left, then realized his mistake just as soon as he felt the knife blaze a hot trail of pain across his ear. What the shell was she doing? Had she lost her mind? You didn't pull a knife on another dragonrider, especially your wingleader!
The knife clanged on the stone wall behind him and Z'leena cursed. "The edge is dull now. Can I sharpen it on your skull?" she growled, pulling another knife. "I won't tell you again…get out!"
L'ndel got.
*-*-*
Z'leena drew a hissing breath as her new wingleader bolted for the door. In a distant part of her mind she knew that she'd just done the unthinkable that she would have to suffer for it. She'd probably lose her position as wingsecond and would undoubtedly be given some punishment.
But the thoughts were distant and detached. Thief's joy in her flight, her rising sensuality, her expanding need for completion had swallowed any rational thinking Z'leena might desire. Instinct alone was guiding her and her firelizard and instinct cared nothing for rank or propriety.
Z'leena clenched her hands in to tight fists and didn't even feel her nails cutting in to her palms. She whirled on her heel and circled her weyr, expending only the tiniest fraction of the energy surging through her body. She knew what she needed and she refused to succumb.
She would not be controlled by such instincts. She would not!
*-*-*
Aerden looked up as a very shaken bronzerider stepped in to the infirmary. Glancing around and seeing he was the only healer in sight, he put down the patient's record he was looking over and crossed the room to the newcomer.
"Can I help you…," A quick glance gave him the man's rank, "Wingleader?"
"L'ndel. I need this taken care of."
Aerden looked at the man's ear. Blood was dripping from the lobe on to his shoulder, but it didn't seem to be too bad a wound. Some of the hair around the ear had been sheared off, too.
"Certainly. Just sit right here." Aerden gestured at a nearby examination table and went for a cart of medical supplies. "Whoever was giving you a haircut didn't finish," he noted as he used a small pair of scissors to snip away the rest of the hair that hid the wound.
"That crazy woman wasn't giving me a haircut," the Wingleader growled. "She threw a knife at me."
"Woman?" Aerden frowned. What woman in the Weyr would have thrown a knife at a Wingleader? He only knew of two women with an interest in blades, and a willingness to use them, but neither of them would ever try to kill another dragonrider.
The wingleader snorted, then winced as Aerden swabbed antiseptic on the slice. "The stupid thing is I wouldn't have been cut if I hadn't moved. She was trying to chase me out, not hurt me. I just didn't realize that until after this." A hand waved at his bloody ear. "I can't believe she threw a knife! At me! She's my wingsecond!"
Aerden stilled instantly. There was only one female wingsecond in the Weyr, not counting Jina and Jamila. "Who exactly threw the knife, Wingleader?" Aerden asked carefully.
"Z'leena. Can you believe it? She's acting really strange today. I should have listened to T'chock and not bothered her."
Aerden resumed cleaning and checking the wound, but his mind was racing. It was a shallow slice and didn't need stitching. It had just lightly grazed against the curled outer edge of the ear and was more irritating than painful now that it had stopped bleeding.
Z'leena had drawn on her Wingleader? That didn't sound at all like the brownrider he'd come to know over the turns. Z'leena was always almost ultra-controlled and he didn't think this new Wingleader of her's could provoke her if he tried.
"How is she acting strange?" Aerden asked. At L'ndel's wary look he smiled brief reassurance. "Z'leena and I are old friends. I know her almost as well as anyone in the weyr. If something's wrong, I might be able to help her."
L'ndel shrugged. "She doesn't look or act like she normally does. She's barely dressed, and it's the middle of the day. She told me to leave, and when I didn't she drew her knife. By the time she was telling me a second time she'd already thrown the knife. She even asked if she could use my skull to sharpen it. How much stranger do you want?"
Aerden brushed some talcum over the slice and stepped back. "It's very shallow and shouldn't cause you any trouble," he told the Wingleader and making no comment in regards to Z'leena. "In a day or so, you won't even remember it's there. I don't think it'll even scar."
"Thanks, healer. And take my advice -- stay away from that brownrider. I'll probably have to demote her because of this."
Aerden arched an eyebrow. "You're warned not to go up there, you're told to get out -- did you knock before going in? The brownrider dislikes being disturbed, you know. And you want to demote her?" Aerden shook his head.
The Wingleader shrugged uncomfortably. He had been warned, and it wasn't like Z'leena had actually aimed for him. Just very close too him. "I'll have to think about it."
"Hmm." Aerden packed away the supplies again. "You'll be find, Wingleader. If you have any trouble, just stop back by and we'll check it for you."
L'ndel grunted and slid off the table. With a disgruntled wave of his hand, he stomped from the room. Aerden waited til he was well gone before calling for the other healer on duty.
"Avara, I have go check on someone. Can you cover here for a few minutes?"
Avara waved a hand at him and continued with what she was doing. Aerden straightened his tunic and hurried from the infirmary.
The Wingleader's report on Z'leena's condition worried him. The only thing that matched with what he knew of her was the name. What could have upset her so desperately, and yet not alarmed her dragon? Soneth was extremely sensitive to Z'leena's emotions and moods and tended to be the compass that folks used to judge her mental state by. But Soneth didn't seem upset. Aerden could see his familiar bulk in the Weyrbowl, lounging comfortably next to a bronze dragon.
Definitely a mystery and Aerden didn't like additional mysteries where Z'leena was concerned. Too often it meant she was hiding something that she shouldn't be hiding and needed help.
Aerden took the steps leading to her weyr two at a time and ignored the cats littering the ledge. He knocked briefly on the door plate and waited impatiently for her to show up.
She didn't. Instead, her voice floated through the thin curtain. He almost didn't recognize it; her cool, clear voice was low and breathless and one he had trouble imagining coming from Z'leena's mouth.
"Z'leena? Can I come in?" he asked, already reaching for the curtain.
"A-aerden?" The healer's eyebrows rose. It was seldom enough that she actually used his name that it was always a bit of a surprise.
Before he could answer, the curtain was flung aside and she'd grabbed his hand. The pull she gave was so unexpected that Aerden stumbled forward. The curtain fluttered shut and suddenly Z'leena's arms were around his neck, her hands tugging his head down, down and then she was kissing him. For one stunned second, Aerden couldn't believe what was happening. Then…
Healers….Oath….
Where had Z'leena learned to kiss like this? He felt his knees melting, he knew he did.
A firelizard's screech pierced the air and Z'leena suddenly jerked away, and out of his arms. Aerden didn't even remember raising them to hold her closer. Aerden had one brief glimpse of a brightly shining gold firelizard crouching over a dead fish before he was suddenly spun around and shoved out of the brownrider's door.
Bemused, Aerden could only stand there a moment. As he did, the gold firelizard streaked out of Z'leena's weyr. She was closely followed by a bronze. Both, Aerden recognized, belonged to Z'leena.
No wonder she was acting strange.
*-*-*
"Please, Dad? Just one little one?" Nikali pleaded, blue eyes wide and filled with adoration.
"No. No kitten, Nikali."
"Please?" The girl blinked her eyes, moisture welling up and threatening to slide down her cheeks.
"Nikali -- "
J'ren's daughter wound her fingers in her father's shirt, and blinked at him. An artful little tear trickled down her cheek. "Just one? I promise I'll take care of it."
J'ren looked down at her helplessly, then sighed in resignation. "All right. Just one. The first time you don't take care of it, I'm giving it to someone who will."
Nikali squealed with excitement and threw her arms around J'ren's neck with an exuberant hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! Brownrider Z'leena has a litter just ready to be separated from their mother."
J'ren smiled weakly. "Oh, good. Why don’t you go pick one out then?"
"Me? Oh, no, Daddy! She scares me. Will you go get it for me?"
J'ren knew he should have expected that. "All right. I'll see the brownrider."
"Now?"
Nikali was pushing her luck. Looking down at her, however, J'ren knew that she'd just pout even more if he didn’t go now. It wasn't like he'd be interrupting anything, either. "Fine, now." He scanned the Weyr walls. "Uh…which weyr is Z'leena's?" he asked.
Nikali pointed unerringly to one on the lowest levels. "The one with all the cats on it," she said eagerly. "Right there…see?"
J'ren saw…it looked like the d**n ledge was moving. How many cats did she have, anyway? "All right. I'll go get the cat."
With another sigh, he unwound Nikali's arms from his neck and strode across the Weyrbowl. How did he get talked in to things like this? Nikali needed a kitten like she needed another ribbon -- which was to say, not at all. She'd had pets before and they'd all either died, or been sent to new owners before they died of neglect. Hadn't she had kittens before? He couldn't remember.
The felines sprawled on the weyrledge watched him with suspicious eyes as he picked his way through them. He paused at the door and knocked. The white door-clothe rippled in the breeze and a muffled sound he couldn't distinguish reached his ears. But no one answered and no one moved the door curtain.
"Brownrider? It's J'ren…can I come in?"
No answer, but another sound filtered through. His curiosity piqued, J'ren pushed the door curtain aside and stepped in to the room. Glows burned brightly within and in one corner a box was covered with a dark clothe. A small hole was in the side, with a white feline head resting on the edge. J'ren started for the box, assuming it would hold the kittens.
The scuff of a chair being pushed back caught his attention and J'ren looked around to see Z'leena staring at him with wide eyes. Her hands tightly gripped the back of a chair and her eyes seemed to be glowing.
"There you are. My daughter -- are you all right?"
Z'leena released the chair and crossed the room with surprising speed. Her unbound hair swayed around her like a black cloak of silk, then was suddenly surrounding J'ren as Z'leena appeared in his arms with her lips fastened on to his in a drugging kiss. Bemused, J'ren backed up a step but Z'leena didn't let him go. Her hands were busy on his shirt, shoving it aside, as her mouth trailed over his skin. The direction things were going was pleasantly clear and J'ren was happy to oblige.
If he'd known this was waiting, he'd have come to get a cat sooner.
*-*-*
Z'leena watched J'ren enter her weyr and shivered. Gold Shana's flight was reaching it's culmination, with bronze Mischief within seconds of catching her. Thief had discovered herself very fond of her mate and those two were having a grand good time entertaining each other. The sexual sensations and emotions of three firelizards were feeding in to Z'leena and she felt like she was being burned alive with things her mind insisted she was feeling but her body was firmly being denied.
Mischief folded his wings and dropped, entrapping Shana with neck and tail. The little queen shrieked her defiance, ending the sound on a croon of acceptance. They joined…
….and Z'leena stopped thinking completely.
*-*-*
shhkt shhkt shhhkt
J'ren woke up to the unmistakable sound of knives being sharpened. After a disoriented moment of trying to figure out just where he was, he remembered.
He smiled.
'Who would have guessed that Wingsecond Z'leena could be so friendly?' he mused as he hunted for his shorts. Finding them, he pulled them on and headed for the door of the sleeping room.
Z'leena sat at her table, calmly sharpening her knives. Four of them rested on the table in front of her, and they all looked sharp enough to J'ren. As he watched, she drew the whetstone across the blade in her hand in a long, smooth stroke. Without looking around, or stopping, she spoke.
"My apologies for…assaulting you."
"No need. I certainly don't have any complaints," J'ren told her cheerfully.
She didn't answer for a moment, and when she did it was clear that she had no intention of discussing or referring to what had happened earlier. "Was there a reason for your visit?"
Recalling just what he had come up to her weyr, J'ren stepped in to the room and retrieved his shirt from the floor. "My daughter wants a kitten and insisted that I come talk to you about it."
Z'leena placed her knife on the table and crossed to the covered box. She lifted the clothe and held it out of the way. Six furry bodies slept within, a soft purr vibrating their rib cages. "Choose."
J'ren looked at her a moment then shrugged. For someone who seduced him, the brownrider was behaving very oddly. He had the distinct feeling that it would be best if he just got out and forgot this afternoon ever happened.
But first...he has to get the d**n kitten for Nikalia.
He looked down at the six creatures and had absolutely no idea which one to take. They all looked the same to him except for their color. After a moment, Z'leena's hand dipped down and lifted a white one up. It mewed in protest, opening it's green eyes to stare at him in confusion. The left from paw showed the only other hint of color, other than the eyes and the pink nose. It looked like the kitten had delicately dipped it's paw in a jar of black ink.
"This is a female. If you want a male, you have to get it castrated."
"Uh, that's all right. I'll take that one." J'ren carefully took the kitten from her and looked at it warily. The kitten meowed in a tiny, squeaky voice then promptly curled up in his big hands and feel asleep. Purring.
"Your daughter is waiting," Z'leena reminded.
"Right. Well, thanks for the cat."
Z'leena watched him leave, then turned and glared across the room. Two golds and two bronzes were curled up contentedly. One of the bronzes wasn't hers, and she had no intention of finding out who it belonged to. Shana and Thief were smugly complacent. Mischief was so proud of himself that he seemed almost twice his normal size -- most of that ego.
Laying a bit apart from the four was a single green firelizard. She looked at her person with innocent eyes and Z'leena pointed a stern finger at her. "Don't even think about it."
Anna Smith (Z'leena)
23.01.17, StarRise Weyr
Z'leena looked up as the light patter of a familiar tread reached her eyes. She watched as Aninya gracefully wove through the lunch crowd to reach their usual table. She gave her grey-eyed daughter the briefest of smiles as Aninya threw herself in to her chair. Aninya heaved a huge sigh, then leaned towards the plate that Z'leena had prepared for her and grimaced.
"Greens?" she protested.
"They're good for you," Z'leena told her firmly, pointing at the plate. "Eat them first, and the rest of the food will wash the taste out of your mouth."
Aninya sighed again, and picked up her fork. She managed to get the briefest amount on to it and screwed up her face as she put it in her mouth. Z'leena chuckled quietly. It was a familiar ritual and one she thought Aninya did simply for Z'leena's benefit.
"What have you been doing today?" Z'leena asked her daughter, her own greens rapidly disappearing in her haste to get the unpleasant consumption over and done with.
"Dying!" Aninya announced happily. "The journeywoman is letting me help create a new dye for the linens she's weaving. We get to test out all the combinations first. Look!" Aninya presented her dye-stained hand to her mother for inspection. "See that browny-yellow stain? I made that one!"
Z'leena dutifully examined the dyed hand and murmured her awe of such talent. It was a rather pretty shade, seeming to be a rich dark gold. "You have a definite talent for this craft," Z'leena said. "Your grandmother was the best weaver at Waylay Seahold when I was very young."
"That's what Uncle Dano said," Aninya nodded. "I'm going to be just as good as her."
Z'leena smiled again, then stiffened. Closing her eyes briefly, she followed the trail of emotion that had suddenly intruded on her mind. It was familiar and unwelcome, but completely unavoidable since she'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time that graduation day.
Thief was rising.
"Nin, I've got to go. Shall we meet for breakfast tomorrow?" Z'leena asked, already rising to her feet.
Aninya frowned, but nodded her acceptance. "Not dinner?" she asked wistfully.
Z'leena shook her head and smiled apologetically. "No, love. Thief is rising."
"Oh!" Aninya said in sudden understanding, her eyes lighting. "More eggs!"
"Eventually," Z'leena agreed wryly. "Tomorrow, Nin."
Aninya nodded, firmly pushing away the rest of her greens and turning her attention to her mashed potatoes and fried fish.
Z'leena hurried from the dining cavern, avoiding as many people as she could. Thief's emotions were growing from a trickle to a tide as she hunted down and killed a hopper. As the little queen firelizard blooded her kill, Z'leena ran up the stairs that led to her weyr. She had one on the lower level because of Aninya, and the animals that had adopted her over the turns.
Just as she passed through the entrance, Thief discarded the dead animal and hissed. Her hunger had transformed to a sensual defiance and she crouched on the table, daring the gathered bronze firelizards to catch her. With a screech, the little queen took to the air.
Z'leena couldn't block out the emotions tumbling down her link with Thief. She could separate herself from the firelizard to some extent but everything the gold felt, she felt and it left her a little … flustered.
And uncomfortable. Suddenly the room was hot and close. Z'leena felt like she was suffocating in her clothes. With a disgusted snarl, she pulled off her leggings and untied her sash. Her oversized white shirt hung to mid-thigh and was light enough that she didn't toss it aside to. She paced around her weyr as the gold's flight continued and tried to think of anything but that.
Her ears picked up the knock on her doorplate and the growl that emanated from her throat was supposed to make her meaning clear. She was not in the mood for company. Unfortunately from the other side of the weyr's doorhanging, the noise sounded more like an "enter" and the person requesting entry walked into Z'leena's lair.
"Z'leena, I've just got this complaint from K'lan about Skyna. You're not going to believe what that bluerider did." T'chock ambled in to the weyr, shaking his head over whatever he was reading. The beads in his braids clicked together lightly. "That woman's an idiot. D'you know," the bronzerider paused to pop the last bite of the meatroll he carried in to his mouth, "that she -- "
"Get out."
T'chock blinked and looked up as that deadly voice chilled the room. "Uh…Z'leena?" he asked hesitantly, eyeing her unclad state warily. "Somethin' wrong?"
She didn't answer, but her hand moved towards the table where her knives, still sheathed, rested. T'chock blinked again, suddenly understanding he'd picked a bad time to come. A really bad time.
Their eyes met and both froze in mid-motion. For an endless second, neither moved. Z'leena, almost overwhelmed by the firelizard passions roiling in her mind and hormones, still retained enough of herself, barely, to know how close she and T'chock were coming to lines they had an unspoken agreement to never cross.
T'chock was a friend. Z'leena had few enough of them that the thought managed to stay her hand. He was intruding on her in an intensely private moment, one she did not wish to share with anyone, and only the value she placed on their friendship kept her from following through on reactions that nine turns of dragonriding and safety had never dimmed.
The day she drew a weapon in anything but practice on the ex-caravanner would be the day she lost that friendship.
Right at this moment, that thought mattered by the tiniest fraction more to her than the need to eliminate the intrusion.
And she could see, in the widening of T'chock's gaze, that he realized just how close they were coming. He, his reports, and the whole sharding wing could take flight for the Red Star for all his senior wingsecond cared. Z'leena could tell that he had realized, as well, that just as she had encountered a line she preferred not to cross, he had met one as well.
If T'chock did not leave, and quickly, it would be his actions that destroyed the friendship.
"Not a good time, I take it. Gotcha. Talk to you later." T'chock beat a hasty retreat. He didn't think Z'leena would really pull a knife on him, but he hadn't lived this long by taken risky chances. He's seen her use those knives. She wasn't a nice fighter.
"Man, oh man, oh man. What lit her off?" he wondered out loud as he reached the bottom of the stairs. "That is one seriously ticked of woman."
"Who?"
T'chock looked at the approaching voice. It was his wingleader, a conscientious man who had a deep interest in all of his wingriders. He generally let T'chock and Z'leena -- all right, mostly Z'leena -- do as they saw fit, but he did keep close tabs on what that was. He hadn't rescinded Z'leena's order for earlier drills, either, and that was a serious failing in T'chock's eyes.
Come to think of it, L'ndel hadn't stood against any of Z'leena's decisions or actions since he'd taken over the wing just a seven day ago. He was a relative newcomer to the Weyr, which might explain why. T'chock doubted it, however. The caravanner turned dragonrider just couldn't decide whether the man was intimidated by the tiny brownrider…or interested in her more than just as his wingsecond. He hadn't been at StarRise long, so he wouldn't know the way things stood.
"The brownrider," T'chock told him, gesturing up towards Z'leena's weyr. Even her cats were conspicuously lounging around on the ledge, and not inside the weyr itself. Cats were renown for their keen survival instincts.
L'ndel frowned. "Is she all right?"
T'chock shrugged. "Z'leena's always all right," he answered.
"Mmm." L'ndel eyed the weyr anxiously and straightened his shoulders. "I'd better check on her," he said firmly.
"No, man, you don't want to do that," T'chock warned him, putting a detaining hand on his shoulder. His wingleader shrugged it off.
"She's my senior wingsecond, T'chock. If something's wrong, I need to know about it."
T'chock hesitated, then shrugged. "Your life," he muttered, heading for the kitchen. He needed something to eat.
L'ndel watched his junior wingsecond lope off then turned back to the stairs. He had to admit that some of his concern was personal. Z'leena was a very attractive young woman, if a bit sharp edged. The distance she seemed surrounded in was intriguing and daunting. But L'ndel could never pass up a challenge, and the brownrider seemed to be the very definition of the word. He'd just go on up, display a bit of concern for her welfare, and hopefully thaw some of her ice.
The multitude of cats on her ledge took him by surprise. There was at least a dozen, maybe more, in all stages of life. One cat was heavily pregnant and another was sitting on a miniscule ledge, watching three half-grown kittens with an exhausted, wary expression on her masked face. L'ndel wrinkled his nose. How did one person live with so many cats? he wondered.
"Wingsecond Z'leena?" the wingleader called, pausing to knock on her doorplate before advancing in to the room. He glanced around quickly. The places was tastefully decorated, lending the cold stone walls a homey, warm atmosphere. He couldn't quite picture this as Z'leena's lodgings. It seemed to open, too soft.
"Get out."
L'ndel turned and smiled. He stepped towards his wingsecond, noting her flushed face and glittering, golden eyes as he approached. Something was different about her. She was normally as distant as the Dawn Sisters, but today there was something intense about her, almost pulling a person nearer.
"Wingsecond, I just came to see -- Bloody shells!"
The woman pulled a knife on him!
"Get out!" Z'leena snarled, the knife hurtling from her hand towards his face.
L'ndel flinched to the left, then realized his mistake just as soon as he felt the knife blaze a hot trail of pain across his ear. What the shell was she doing? Had she lost her mind? You didn't pull a knife on another dragonrider, especially your wingleader!
The knife clanged on the stone wall behind him and Z'leena cursed. "The edge is dull now. Can I sharpen it on your skull?" she growled, pulling another knife. "I won't tell you again…get out!"
L'ndel got.
*-*-*
Z'leena drew a hissing breath as her new wingleader bolted for the door. In a distant part of her mind she knew that she'd just done the unthinkable that she would have to suffer for it. She'd probably lose her position as wingsecond and would undoubtedly be given some punishment.
But the thoughts were distant and detached. Thief's joy in her flight, her rising sensuality, her expanding need for completion had swallowed any rational thinking Z'leena might desire. Instinct alone was guiding her and her firelizard and instinct cared nothing for rank or propriety.
Z'leena clenched her hands in to tight fists and didn't even feel her nails cutting in to her palms. She whirled on her heel and circled her weyr, expending only the tiniest fraction of the energy surging through her body. She knew what she needed and she refused to succumb.
She would not be controlled by such instincts. She would not!
*-*-*
Aerden looked up as a very shaken bronzerider stepped in to the infirmary. Glancing around and seeing he was the only healer in sight, he put down the patient's record he was looking over and crossed the room to the newcomer.
"Can I help you…," A quick glance gave him the man's rank, "Wingleader?"
"L'ndel. I need this taken care of."
Aerden looked at the man's ear. Blood was dripping from the lobe on to his shoulder, but it didn't seem to be too bad a wound. Some of the hair around the ear had been sheared off, too.
"Certainly. Just sit right here." Aerden gestured at a nearby examination table and went for a cart of medical supplies. "Whoever was giving you a haircut didn't finish," he noted as he used a small pair of scissors to snip away the rest of the hair that hid the wound.
"That crazy woman wasn't giving me a haircut," the Wingleader growled. "She threw a knife at me."
"Woman?" Aerden frowned. What woman in the Weyr would have thrown a knife at a Wingleader? He only knew of two women with an interest in blades, and a willingness to use them, but neither of them would ever try to kill another dragonrider.
The wingleader snorted, then winced as Aerden swabbed antiseptic on the slice. "The stupid thing is I wouldn't have been cut if I hadn't moved. She was trying to chase me out, not hurt me. I just didn't realize that until after this." A hand waved at his bloody ear. "I can't believe she threw a knife! At me! She's my wingsecond!"
Aerden stilled instantly. There was only one female wingsecond in the Weyr, not counting Jina and Jamila. "Who exactly threw the knife, Wingleader?" Aerden asked carefully.
"Z'leena. Can you believe it? She's acting really strange today. I should have listened to T'chock and not bothered her."
Aerden resumed cleaning and checking the wound, but his mind was racing. It was a shallow slice and didn't need stitching. It had just lightly grazed against the curled outer edge of the ear and was more irritating than painful now that it had stopped bleeding.
Z'leena had drawn on her Wingleader? That didn't sound at all like the brownrider he'd come to know over the turns. Z'leena was always almost ultra-controlled and he didn't think this new Wingleader of her's could provoke her if he tried.
"How is she acting strange?" Aerden asked. At L'ndel's wary look he smiled brief reassurance. "Z'leena and I are old friends. I know her almost as well as anyone in the weyr. If something's wrong, I might be able to help her."
L'ndel shrugged. "She doesn't look or act like she normally does. She's barely dressed, and it's the middle of the day. She told me to leave, and when I didn't she drew her knife. By the time she was telling me a second time she'd already thrown the knife. She even asked if she could use my skull to sharpen it. How much stranger do you want?"
Aerden brushed some talcum over the slice and stepped back. "It's very shallow and shouldn't cause you any trouble," he told the Wingleader and making no comment in regards to Z'leena. "In a day or so, you won't even remember it's there. I don't think it'll even scar."
"Thanks, healer. And take my advice -- stay away from that brownrider. I'll probably have to demote her because of this."
Aerden arched an eyebrow. "You're warned not to go up there, you're told to get out -- did you knock before going in? The brownrider dislikes being disturbed, you know. And you want to demote her?" Aerden shook his head.
The Wingleader shrugged uncomfortably. He had been warned, and it wasn't like Z'leena had actually aimed for him. Just very close too him. "I'll have to think about it."
"Hmm." Aerden packed away the supplies again. "You'll be find, Wingleader. If you have any trouble, just stop back by and we'll check it for you."
L'ndel grunted and slid off the table. With a disgruntled wave of his hand, he stomped from the room. Aerden waited til he was well gone before calling for the other healer on duty.
"Avara, I have go check on someone. Can you cover here for a few minutes?"
Avara waved a hand at him and continued with what she was doing. Aerden straightened his tunic and hurried from the infirmary.
The Wingleader's report on Z'leena's condition worried him. The only thing that matched with what he knew of her was the name. What could have upset her so desperately, and yet not alarmed her dragon? Soneth was extremely sensitive to Z'leena's emotions and moods and tended to be the compass that folks used to judge her mental state by. But Soneth didn't seem upset. Aerden could see his familiar bulk in the Weyrbowl, lounging comfortably next to a bronze dragon.
Definitely a mystery and Aerden didn't like additional mysteries where Z'leena was concerned. Too often it meant she was hiding something that she shouldn't be hiding and needed help.
Aerden took the steps leading to her weyr two at a time and ignored the cats littering the ledge. He knocked briefly on the door plate and waited impatiently for her to show up.
She didn't. Instead, her voice floated through the thin curtain. He almost didn't recognize it; her cool, clear voice was low and breathless and one he had trouble imagining coming from Z'leena's mouth.
"Z'leena? Can I come in?" he asked, already reaching for the curtain.
"A-aerden?" The healer's eyebrows rose. It was seldom enough that she actually used his name that it was always a bit of a surprise.
Before he could answer, the curtain was flung aside and she'd grabbed his hand. The pull she gave was so unexpected that Aerden stumbled forward. The curtain fluttered shut and suddenly Z'leena's arms were around his neck, her hands tugging his head down, down and then she was kissing him. For one stunned second, Aerden couldn't believe what was happening. Then…
Healers….Oath….
Where had Z'leena learned to kiss like this? He felt his knees melting, he knew he did.
A firelizard's screech pierced the air and Z'leena suddenly jerked away, and out of his arms. Aerden didn't even remember raising them to hold her closer. Aerden had one brief glimpse of a brightly shining gold firelizard crouching over a dead fish before he was suddenly spun around and shoved out of the brownrider's door.
Bemused, Aerden could only stand there a moment. As he did, the gold firelizard streaked out of Z'leena's weyr. She was closely followed by a bronze. Both, Aerden recognized, belonged to Z'leena.
No wonder she was acting strange.
*-*-*
"Please, Dad? Just one little one?" Nikali pleaded, blue eyes wide and filled with adoration.
"No. No kitten, Nikali."
"Please?" The girl blinked her eyes, moisture welling up and threatening to slide down her cheeks.
"Nikali -- "
J'ren's daughter wound her fingers in her father's shirt, and blinked at him. An artful little tear trickled down her cheek. "Just one? I promise I'll take care of it."
J'ren looked down at her helplessly, then sighed in resignation. "All right. Just one. The first time you don't take care of it, I'm giving it to someone who will."
Nikali squealed with excitement and threw her arms around J'ren's neck with an exuberant hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! Brownrider Z'leena has a litter just ready to be separated from their mother."
J'ren smiled weakly. "Oh, good. Why don’t you go pick one out then?"
"Me? Oh, no, Daddy! She scares me. Will you go get it for me?"
J'ren knew he should have expected that. "All right. I'll see the brownrider."
"Now?"
Nikali was pushing her luck. Looking down at her, however, J'ren knew that she'd just pout even more if he didn’t go now. It wasn't like he'd be interrupting anything, either. "Fine, now." He scanned the Weyr walls. "Uh…which weyr is Z'leena's?" he asked.
Nikali pointed unerringly to one on the lowest levels. "The one with all the cats on it," she said eagerly. "Right there…see?"
J'ren saw…it looked like the d**n ledge was moving. How many cats did she have, anyway? "All right. I'll go get the cat."
With another sigh, he unwound Nikali's arms from his neck and strode across the Weyrbowl. How did he get talked in to things like this? Nikali needed a kitten like she needed another ribbon -- which was to say, not at all. She'd had pets before and they'd all either died, or been sent to new owners before they died of neglect. Hadn't she had kittens before? He couldn't remember.
The felines sprawled on the weyrledge watched him with suspicious eyes as he picked his way through them. He paused at the door and knocked. The white door-clothe rippled in the breeze and a muffled sound he couldn't distinguish reached his ears. But no one answered and no one moved the door curtain.
"Brownrider? It's J'ren…can I come in?"
No answer, but another sound filtered through. His curiosity piqued, J'ren pushed the door curtain aside and stepped in to the room. Glows burned brightly within and in one corner a box was covered with a dark clothe. A small hole was in the side, with a white feline head resting on the edge. J'ren started for the box, assuming it would hold the kittens.
The scuff of a chair being pushed back caught his attention and J'ren looked around to see Z'leena staring at him with wide eyes. Her hands tightly gripped the back of a chair and her eyes seemed to be glowing.
"There you are. My daughter -- are you all right?"
Z'leena released the chair and crossed the room with surprising speed. Her unbound hair swayed around her like a black cloak of silk, then was suddenly surrounding J'ren as Z'leena appeared in his arms with her lips fastened on to his in a drugging kiss. Bemused, J'ren backed up a step but Z'leena didn't let him go. Her hands were busy on his shirt, shoving it aside, as her mouth trailed over his skin. The direction things were going was pleasantly clear and J'ren was happy to oblige.
If he'd known this was waiting, he'd have come to get a cat sooner.
*-*-*
Z'leena watched J'ren enter her weyr and shivered. Gold Shana's flight was reaching it's culmination, with bronze Mischief within seconds of catching her. Thief had discovered herself very fond of her mate and those two were having a grand good time entertaining each other. The sexual sensations and emotions of three firelizards were feeding in to Z'leena and she felt like she was being burned alive with things her mind insisted she was feeling but her body was firmly being denied.
Mischief folded his wings and dropped, entrapping Shana with neck and tail. The little queen shrieked her defiance, ending the sound on a croon of acceptance. They joined…
….and Z'leena stopped thinking completely.
*-*-*
shhkt shhkt shhhkt
J'ren woke up to the unmistakable sound of knives being sharpened. After a disoriented moment of trying to figure out just where he was, he remembered.
He smiled.
'Who would have guessed that Wingsecond Z'leena could be so friendly?' he mused as he hunted for his shorts. Finding them, he pulled them on and headed for the door of the sleeping room.
Z'leena sat at her table, calmly sharpening her knives. Four of them rested on the table in front of her, and they all looked sharp enough to J'ren. As he watched, she drew the whetstone across the blade in her hand in a long, smooth stroke. Without looking around, or stopping, she spoke.
"My apologies for…assaulting you."
"No need. I certainly don't have any complaints," J'ren told her cheerfully.
She didn't answer for a moment, and when she did it was clear that she had no intention of discussing or referring to what had happened earlier. "Was there a reason for your visit?"
Recalling just what he had come up to her weyr, J'ren stepped in to the room and retrieved his shirt from the floor. "My daughter wants a kitten and insisted that I come talk to you about it."
Z'leena placed her knife on the table and crossed to the covered box. She lifted the clothe and held it out of the way. Six furry bodies slept within, a soft purr vibrating their rib cages. "Choose."
J'ren looked at her a moment then shrugged. For someone who seduced him, the brownrider was behaving very oddly. He had the distinct feeling that it would be best if he just got out and forgot this afternoon ever happened.
But first...he has to get the d**n kitten for Nikalia.
He looked down at the six creatures and had absolutely no idea which one to take. They all looked the same to him except for their color. After a moment, Z'leena's hand dipped down and lifted a white one up. It mewed in protest, opening it's green eyes to stare at him in confusion. The left from paw showed the only other hint of color, other than the eyes and the pink nose. It looked like the kitten had delicately dipped it's paw in a jar of black ink.
"This is a female. If you want a male, you have to get it castrated."
"Uh, that's all right. I'll take that one." J'ren carefully took the kitten from her and looked at it warily. The kitten meowed in a tiny, squeaky voice then promptly curled up in his big hands and feel asleep. Purring.
"Your daughter is waiting," Z'leena reminded.
"Right. Well, thanks for the cat."
Z'leena watched him leave, then turned and glared across the room. Two golds and two bronzes were curled up contentedly. One of the bronzes wasn't hers, and she had no intention of finding out who it belonged to. Shana and Thief were smugly complacent. Mischief was so proud of himself that he seemed almost twice his normal size -- most of that ego.
Laying a bit apart from the four was a single green firelizard. She looked at her person with innocent eyes and Z'leena pointed a stern finger at her. "Don't even think about it."
