Conversation isn't Necessary

Writers: Eimi, Rochelle
Date Posted: 30th March 2008

Characters: T'mahl, Sakime
Description: In a moment of rebellion, Sakime gives herself to T'mahl after a Flight.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 8, day 20 of Turn 4

The breeze was fresh and cool on her face when she left the laundry cavern, and Sakime inhaled deeply. It smelled so nice after being up to her elbows in soap and dirty clothes all morning. So much nicer than her brother's weyr...

She frowned in irritation, her pride still smarting as it had for months from the night he'd torn her lover away from her. He had said something, and her lover would not come back to her now. No one would come back, no one would go with her. And all because she couldn't hear anything. Her frown became a scowl. He was treating her like everyone else did now, like she was less because she couldn't hear. No one wanted to let her do anything because she couldn't hear.

She stalked off across the bowl, fuming at the stubbornness of her brother, who refused to see that she was a woman, whether or not she could hear. It wasn't like...

Her attention was caught by a crowd of men by the fence, an ordinary sight in the weyr. She saw the bright green of a dragon taking off beyond them, and noted the colored skirts of assorted women as they began to accumulate around the group. Without thinking, she altered her direction, her flit swooping around her head.

T'mahl closed his eyes, oblivious to the crowd gathering around them. His eyes fluttered closed as he felt as though he were leaving his body.
He was flying, weightless, strong. He was Uluruth chasing after his prize, heart pounding, desire coursing through him like the blood in his veins. Shards, he felt so _alive_, so high...

She pulled closer, slipping herself between two of the taller women who had accumulated to watch the men and the distant flecks of color soaring in the sky. She watched the dragons for a moment, then turned her attention to the men again. There were more than usual, and all ages, with all the different male dragon colors on their shoulders. She set her jaw stubbornly. She knew what was happening. Her brother didn't want her to know, but she knew what the men where clustered by the pens for, and why the women waited. She wasn't a child anymore. She pulled herself upright, her sullen anger revived. She was a woman now, not the little crying girl she'd been when he left home, and her brother was just going to have to live with that.

**Come to me...** T'mahl's mind whispered, unconsciously reaching out for the greenrider dancing around the middle of the circle. He didn't know her, but he wanted her. He wanted to claim her, posses her.
**Closer... closer...** In his mind he could feel she was so close to him, just barely out of his reach, but it was only a matter of time and she'd be his. **Faster...** Suddenly his consciousness, which had been soaring in the sky along with his lifemate, was sucked back into his own mind with a frustrated snap. "Shards," he whispered, his mind now untangled from Uluruth's as the greenrider fell into the arms of a brownrider with a shuddering cry. The way they fell into each other, grabbing at each other, caressing each other roughly.... Oh Faranth he needed to feel flesh under his fingers so bad it was almost painful. Whirling around he stumbled away from the circle and into a sea of hands reaching for him, touching him, arousing him even as he brushed passed them until he stood face to face with a young woman. How young he didn't know. He didn't care. She was a woman, and he wanted her. He was already undressing her in his mind, already imagining all the places he wanted to touch and kiss her. "Come with me," he murmured, reaching for hand.

She had watched the men disperse into the crowd, noting the one that stumbled in her general direction. He was sweaty, his eyes wild and unfocused as he waded into the sea of hands. Deftly, used to moving in crowds that didn't pay attention to her, she sidestepped another pair stumbling out of the circle, and found herself face to face with him.
His eyes focused on her face, and she saw his lips move. She couldn't quite read what he said, but the the hand reaching for hers was clear enough, and she felt resolution click into place. This was her decision to make, not her brother's. She reached out, and tugged the man free of the crowd, the other women turning away as he stumbled after her.

T'mahl caught up to her, taking her by the hand and silently leading her at quick pace back towards his weyr. It was better if they didn't talk.
He didn't want to talk. He wanted to peel every inch of cloth off her skin and claim her as his own like his dragon had just failed to do, if only for a few lust-filled moments. T'mahl needed relief, not conversation. He had fumbled with the keys to his lock, feeling his heart pound as images of what was about to come once he got the sharding door open flashed through his mind. With a triumphant shove he swung the door wide, pulling the girl inside and using her body to close the door after them as he leaned into her, feeling the warmth of her skin though the fabric, feeling the heat of her breath on his lips, feeling just how tight his trousers were. Too many clothes on both of them.

"Come with me," he whispered, pulling back and reaching for her hand once more. The bronzerider wanted nothing more than to remove all those frustrating layers and find his release.

She let herself be pulled to toward the bed, her body suddenly humming at the man's close proximity, feeling suddenly hot and flushed. He had said something when he reached for her, and she wondered for a brief moment what it had been, then found herself lost in the wild, naked expression on his face as he looked at her. He wanted her, _needed_ her.
She felt a thrill, pushing down the sudden hesitation, the uneasy feeling that she shouldn't be doing this, and responded to the hands fumbling for the fastenings to her dress with fumbling of her own, undoing the man's belt and yanking his tunic out of the way. She felt herself roughly pulled against the man as her simple dress slid to the ground, his mouth fastening on hers with a fierce passion. Her mind and body on fire, she tried to pull him closer, and tripped over her dress at her feet, tumbling them both backwards onto the bed behind her.

The bronzerider let himself give in fully to the pent up dragonlust. T'mahl did not often allow himself to lose control in a situation, and it felt so sharding good - to act purely on instinct, to give into unstructured, unpredictable desire. It was brief, but it was thorough and when he finally let himself go, it was pure ecstasy. He collapsed on top of the girl, his breath ragged and his body trembling. Shards, that was just what he needed. After a brief moment he rolled off of her, closing his eyes and feeling every muscle in his body turn to liquid.

**Shards...** his mind whispered as his lids closed. It was the only coherent thought he could form.

His breathing was almost normal when he opened them again, staring up at the familiar cracks along his ceiling. He suddenly became aware of the heat radiating from the body beside him. T'mahl's languid muscles tensed slightly. This was always the hard part for him. He had never been one of those smooth riders who could just turn on his side, introduce himself to a strange woman and charm her into doing it all again, even if he truly wanted to. This bronzerider didn't know how to be charming and flirtatious. He just felt awkward and apologetic. It was times like this when he envied those bronzeriders. If only he could be like them...

Turning his head towards her, he noticed her eyes were still closed and her breathing had not yet evened out. He couldn't quite see her face. It was obscured slightly by damp, dark, wavy tresses. "I don't know your name, but... thank you," he murmured in an attempt to break the silence. But the silence stretched on. "My name is T'mahl..." he offered. But she didn't move. She didn't say a word. "Hey," the bronzerider said, a bit louder this time as he rolled over and propped himself up on an elbow to look down into her face. "Are you all right?" He gently brushed the hairs away from her cheeks.

She breathed deeply, slowly, feeling the wonderful lassitude saturating her body. She had lain with a man before, or she would have never had the nerve to join the crowd at the pens, but there had been no dragon involved before. Now she knew why the women clustered around the pens when the greens flew. Like the two times before with her first daring secret lover, she wondered languidly why her family was so determined to deny her this.

Feeling the bed shift under her limp body and a hand brushing away the hair sticking to her cheeks, she slowly opened her eyes, energy surging back into her with a sudden sinking feeling of panic. She didn't know the man whose bed she was in. And she didn't know how to talk to him if he couldn't understand her hands. Her slate was in her dress pocket -if it hadn't shattered when it fell to the floor. She held her breath, seeing his sweaty face above hers, looking mildly concerned. Had he been talking to her when her eyes were closed? What had he said? Letting the air out in a tiny sigh, she smiled warmly, hoping it would answer anything he was saying.

"Thank Faranth," T'mahl breathed. "I was worried when you weren't saying anything. Are you all right? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

She shook her head slightly, moving her head slowly on the pillow as her smile became apologetic. She disentangled one hand from the blankets and touched her ear, and then her throat, before shaking her head again, hoping he would understand what she was trying to say. She hesitated for a moment, and then with a sense of daring she had not felt since her first lover had pulled her into his weyr, reached up and gently pulled his head down to meet hers with a gentle kiss.

The bronzerider couldn't understand her silent gestures, but he could certainly understand the kiss. His eyes slowly closed as his hand slid down her side to her hip, gently pulling her closer. Shards, it had been too long. As their lips finally pulled apart he smiled down at her, relieved that this was going so well. "My name is T'mahl."

She watched his lips move, and felt the first hints of frustration seeping in. Slowly, to show that she wasn't pulling away from him, she rolled over on top of him and sat up to free her arms for easier movement, feeling her sweaty hair tumbling down her back and the blankets slipping away from her. She shook her head again, cupped her ear like she had seen her brother do sometimes, and shook her head again with a grimace. Then she pointed at her throat once more, opened her mouth, and shook her head yet again, adding a shrug. -Write, sign only- she gestured with exaggerated care, hoping that he would understand the more obvious movements. She watched him hopefully.

Realization dawned on him, and the bronzerider suddenly felt uncertain. "Oh, I see. I'm sorry." Shards, she probably wasn't understanding him.
"I," he repeated, unconsciously raising his voice as he pointed to his chest. But how could he gesture sorry? He felt at a total loss for words. Or at least gestures. Finally he shrugged. "I am sorry." He could feel his face flush red, feeling the complete fool. She smiled serenely, relieved that he had apparently understood what she'd been trying to tell him. Ignoring the blush suffusing his face, she leaned forward again, her dark hair tumbling forward to pool on his chest as she kissed him lightly, letting her fingers linger as they drew along his face. She raised an eyebrow as she drew back a few fingers from his face, smiling invitingly. Conversation wasn't necessary for what she wanted, if he was still willing...

The bronzerider was actually a little relieved. Conversation had never been his strong point anyway. He reached up to gently cup her questioning face and pulled her down to him once more. There were ways he could answer that required no words at all.

Last updated on the April 5th 2008

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Conversation isn't Necessary