Like Thread Through Flesh

Writers: Bree, Eimi
Date Posted: 5th October 2005

Characters: B'ram, Dyaera, D'cal
Description: B'ram tries to bring a little comfort to Dyaera, but only makes things worse
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 8, day 10 of Turn 3

B'ram

A head covered in spiky red hair peeked around the door into Dyaera's sleeping chamber. "So, which one third is it that still works?" B'ram asked with a naughty grin.

Dyaera propped herself partly up on one elbow and smiled in delight. "B'ram!
You came to see me!" "Of course I did!" He loooked around before whispering loudly, "Your blue-boy isn't around, is he?"

Shaking her head, Dyaera relaxed back into her pillows, not wanting to expend too much energy on propping herself up when there might be far more interesting ways to use it. "He's got weyrling classes, I think."

The brownrider grinned. "I'm sure you've been missing his company while he's out with all the other boys and girls." He walked over to the bed and kicked of his boots. "Which does he prefer, boys or girls?"

"So far, girls..." She wrinkled her nose. "Though _that_ won't last forever, I'd imagine. I know plenty of boys who wouldn't mind tripping him into bed."

B'ram grabbed a pillow and moved to the other side of her. He slid onto the bed, trying to disturb her as little as possible, and propped himself up on the pillow. "And would it bother you if he tripped into a boys bed and found he didn't want to get out of it?"

Dyaera pondered that for a moment, not really sure _how_ she'd react. After four months of frustration with no satisfaction, it might be a little more than she could take. "Maybe a little... but I guess if he decides he's had enough of women, I'll get over it somehow." He linked his fingers behind his head and relaxed back against the headboard. "Well, one nice thing about being a blue I suppose is that anyone will do. Me, if Girifith catches a green whose rider is female, it's easy. I wake up, congratulate her on a good flight, and if she's willing we work off the rest of our dragon lust. If it's a man, I congratulate him and then have to go off and find someone else willing. Being a blue, I suppose he wouldn't much care, huh. Convenient."

"I guess..." Dyaera had never really pondered the issue... mostly because she'd never have a reason to. "That's not a problem I'm ever going to be having, I imagine." "I should imagine not. Unless the temperature rises in /between/." He chuckled. "I know, I think too deeply about things sometimes. It's probably not something you want to be talking about - your friend getting lost on the other side of bluerider-hood, I mean."

"I don't know... I mean, if it happens, it happens..." She shifted a little, peering up at him. "In case you haven't figured it out by now, I'll talk about anything. I just don't get why people spend so much time... thinking."

He shrugged and shifted onto his side so he didn't have to twist his head around to look at her. "Well, if you think about something before it happens you are ready for it. It's not such a big surprise."

"But that's only if you _know_ what's going to happen," Dyaera retorted. "If you aren't sure, it's just a waste of time to sit around thinking about all the things that _might_ happen. Especially with something so silly as romance."

B'ram cocked his head and regarded her for a moment. "You think romance is silly?"

"I think brooding about it is," she said firmly. "It's not life or death...
not like fighting Thread." "Well, it is my experience that a romance gone sour can rip through a man's heart and mind as easily as Thread through flesh." He smiled apologetically, but it quickly turned into an impish grin. "But listen to me, trying to talk to you of romance when I have absolutely no honorable intentions being here."

"Oh, good..." Dyaera gave him a grin in return. "I hate honorable intentions..." And she was more than looking forward to a little time spent feeling good and not having to worry about complicated emotions or confusion. "Well, I suppose in a way, my intentions are honorable." B'ram leaned bit closer. "I did make you a promise, didn't I."

"Mmmhmm... a very nice promise." Dyaera shifted closer, making a concious effort to ignore the fact that her skimpy little nightgown left her shoulder and arm scars very evident. It wasn't easy--even with D'cal she felt the constant urge to find something to cover up with. Then again, the fact that B'ram had never seen her without scars released some of the tension. "Well, in keeping my promise, at least, I intend to be honorable." He was not concerned about what her thin shift revealed. B'ram was more interested in what it kept hidden. His fingers found the tie of the draw string as his lips began gently exploring the soft flesh of her neck.

Dyaera closed her eyes and let a soft sigh of pleasure escape her lips.
She'd never been much for sitting passivly, but the only way she could reciprocate was by reaching out with her good arm and sliding her fingers into his hair. B'ram smiled against her skin at her quick reaction. Apparently it _had_
been a while. He was going to take his time and enjoy this. Fingers lightly moved from drawstring to drawstring, happy that the healers had thought to give her clothing that would be easy to change in and out of from a horizantal position. It would prove convenient for undressing her now.

She proved to be _very_ responsive, rewarding every touch with pleased sighs that slowly turned to moans. The greenrider might be young, but it was clear she knew exactly what she wanted, and was planning on enjoying every moment of it. B'ram sat up and pulled his tunic over his head. She might have only one hand, but it was obvious she was not shy about using it. He might as well give her something to explore as well as he. While was sitting upright, he decided to take the opportunity slip her nightgown to the side, grinning at what it revealed. "Well, there's no Thread scores there."

The smile she gave him was shy and almost a little challenging. "No, that would be here..." She had enough practice that she managed to shift with a minimum of fuss, rolling on to her good side and letting the nightgown fall away. She was wearing nothing underneath it, so he got a clear view of the scars that started at her shoulder and twisted their way down her back and onto her hip. She turned to look over her shoulder at him, not realizing that the terrible vulnerability she felt was clear in her eyes in spite of her confident smile. The brownrider hadn't failed to notice the fear in her eyes. His own eyes softened as he looked into hers. He suddenly realized that this meant much more to Dyaera than just a relief of sexual frustration and boredom. His fingers ran gently up the ridge where damage skin meant healthy skin along her shoulder blade, up to her shoulder, and then continued on to her cheek.
"You are still so beautiful, Dyaera," he whispered as he leaned in to kiss her gently.

She moved without thinking, trying to wrap her arm around his shoulders.
That, of course, ended up with an annoyed hiss and her flat on her back again, feeling the dull ache in her shoulders and side from muscles that hadn't wanted to move. Dyaera grinned up at B'ram and relaxed back into the bed. "I think that was a hint from my body to sit still and let you do the moving." "I think that's a wonderful idea," he chuckled as he bent down to kiss her again, his fingers wandering slowly down from her shoulder to her breast.
The little whimpers she made as he kissed her told him that everything down there was in working order and it encouraged him to continue.

Dyaera let her good hand tangle in his hair again, enjoying the feel of it between her fingers. Her body felt wonderful--wonderful enough that she wasn't even noticing the dull ache in her muscles anymore. Not with the way his lips were tracing their way along her skin... B'ram's lips had just wrapped around a particularly sensitive area, producing a gasping sound from the young woman, when they heard a voice in the doorway.

"Ok, Dyaera, I brought you your..." D'cal stopped, his eyes wide. The rest of the words were choked off as he throat tightened around the breath that would not escape.

It took Dyaera a few moments to register his voice, and a few moments more to realize what was wrong with hearing that voice at that time. She opened her eyes slowly, almost afraid to glance toward the door. B'ram leaned back quickly. He awkardly tugged her nightgown back over her body as his eyes never left the bluerider standing at the door. D'cal just stood, looking between Dyaera and the man hovering over him. His eyes took in the scene, but his brain was having trouble comprehenind, like walking into a dream and yet not a dream. Finally he whispered questioningly, "Dyaera?"

Dyaera actually looked guilty for the first time since he'd met her. Truly, seriously guilty. "D'cal?" B'ram reached for his tunic and slipped it back over his head. He knew the damage had been done, and regretted it, for both of their sakes.

D'cal finally found his voice, and his eyes began to wander around the room, looking anywhere but at her. Bracing himself in the doorway with both hands he said, "I will leave your dinner on the table. I'm sure your friend can help you with it. If not, just have Tilarth bespeak Aosorath." He looked directly at B'ram finally. His eyes held neither hate nor blame. "There is enough for two. You are welcome to it." With that he turned and walked away.

Dyaera sank back onto the bed, looking positivly miserable. "I can't do anything right with him. I need to just give up, but how do you give up on someone who can't even be mean to you when he's mad?" B'ram sighed as he leaned back against the headboard. He ran his fingers through her hair gently. The brownrider too had noticed how the weyrling had handled his feelings. It showed a great restraint, and a great strength. And he wondered if it didn't also hint to the depth of the boy's feelings, and his heart went out to the pair of them. "If he didn't care for you so much he would not have held back. It seems that no matter what you do wrong, no matter how he hurts, his feelings for you are still stronger. Perhaps this is something that _does_ call for a bit of thinking."

"He can't have all of me," Dyaera replied softly, tucking her head against his shoulder. "I don't care how much he cares for me... I'm sixteen. I don't want _anyone_ to have all of me but me. Why does he have to make it all or nothing?" "Yup," B'ram whispered as he pulled her closer, "Like Thread through flesh..."

Last updated on the October 5th 2005

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Like Thread Through Flesh