Dangers of Flight (Open)

[Lady Smara]

Having lived in the Weyr her whole life, Prontin had experienced gold fights before. As a child she always begged her father to tell her to describe the scene as the gold was chased out of the Weyr. She had always grown disappointed when the dragons left her father’s sight. As she grew older, however, it was more than simple curiosity and excitement she felt. Now she felt her blood warm and though she could not see the dragons in the Weyrbowl, the blind harper knew very well what the feeling meant.

Walking with her hand against the wall, Prontin decided her original direction to the WeyrHall may not be the best choice at this time. Instead she began to make her way back to her room in the Lower caverns. As the dragons took flight, however, she found herself growing dizzy and she stopped to push her back against the cold stone. No, she was here, on the ground and safe within the Lower Caverns. Why was she feeling this way?

Even as the room spun and her blood warmed, Prontin felt desire flow through her. Her stomach clenched and she her breath shortened. She could no longer hear if anyone was in the hall, the blood pounded through her ears as well and her own shortened breath passed through her lips heavily. She couldn’t travel the hallways like this…

Closing her eyes, she wondered why it seemed that the flights were affecting her stronger each time the gold would rise. She knew full well that others sought release with each other through sex during the time of the flight – but Prontin was not about to ask for such release from a person she couldn't even see.

[Marnark]

This ... no one had said a word about this. It was ... there were no words for it. Why hadn't anyone said anything about this? It was not at all comfortable in the least sense of the word. Some shiny dragon was off and flying around with a huge consort after her. It was quite an event that apparently the whole place had been expecting and looking forward to... and apparently placing bets on? He didn't understand why, really, until he managed to peice one and three together to get five. Or ... no, that wasn't right. Anyway, he knew that the big gold one was the one in charge, and apparently the gold one flew around to breed just like all those greens did. But greenflights didn't affect the place like this, and for sure crying out loud it hadn't affected Apollath like this. No greenflight had bothered the brown at all.

This did. In fact, Apollath had wanted to join in the chaos. R'gar was not entirely sure why he hadn't, especially considering the burning drive that was going with that desire. Something kept the brown grounded for the event, and R'gar didn't know what it was. Apollath was beside himself for it, and wasn't making much sense at all, besides being upset and incurably horny. So R'gar had decided to go for a walk and wait for the brown to calm down. Only, expanding the range of proximity was not helping him any.

He knew the sensation. He was, after all, a healthy young male himself. There was only one problem. Usually when he encountered problems like this, there was a reason for it. This ... this seemed awfully arbitrary and totally torturous. Not to mention no about of cold showers was going to cure it. So he found himself walking aimlessly and going over the lists of herbs he'd discovered here on the Southern Continent to try and distract himself. Not that it was working. It especially didn't help when he'd get far enough down the list to come across an herb that had ... ahem ... interesting properties.

Argh!

He was able to shove most of it aside, thankfully, when his gaze fell upon something that kicked his Healer training into overdrive. There was someone just standing there in the hall way, wavering on her feet with her eyes squeezed shut as if she was quite sick to her stomach.

That ... couldn't be good. At all. "Ma'am?" R'gar asked, slowing his stride and altering his path from just going around mindlessly to intercept. She really looked like she needed to sit or lay down before she fell down .... urk. Wrong thought path. He derailed again and had to drag his mind back again from the depths of where it was headed again. "Are you alright?" Of course she wasn't, that was obvious. But it was standard procedure to ask first anyway. Some people didn't want help after all.

[Lady Smara]

Her mind lost to the torment her body was putting her though, Prontin had not heard the young man walking toward her in the hall. When his voice echoed down the stone corridor, she opened her clouded eyes for all the good it did her as they gazed well left of the man completely. She shivered visibly, her own distracted mind placing first that the deep voice was very much male and only that he had asked about her well being as an afterthought.

Anyone who meets Prontin for the first time are usually struck by her paleness, her skin far finer than most women’s and without the slightest hint of sun to it as she stays within the Weyr’s Lower Caverns to keep from becoming lost. She could feel it now, however, flushed and warm with a drop of sweet threatening to roll down her temple. The thought of it made the woman wonder for a moment how much light was in the hall, and just how much the man before her could see. Another shudder ran through her body - whoever it was, they could obviously see something as they had asked her if she was alright.

I should have never left my room today… Letting her tongue slide across her thin lips, she answered the man near her, “I… I think I need to sit down…” Her voice did not hold its usual smoothness, instead it was roughened by the desire created by the gold in heat. Her legs shaking beneath her long skirt, Prontin’s body decided to react to her words before her head told it to. Closing her eyes again, she slid to the floor, her back never leaving the cool of the stone.

[Marnark]

R'gar had noticed that for as many richly tanned people there were, in the South, there were almost as many pale ones. For that, he hadn't hardly noticed that she was pale-skinned insomuch as he had noticed the texture of it. Under normal circumstances, this was just natural and trained in as a Healer. The condition of skin could tell a Healer a lot about what ailed a body. Hers, however, despite being pale, looked healthy enough. She even had a slight flush going, but not enough to be signs of anything being overly wrong. Just enough to be healthy.

On the other hand, it was like a kick to the senses as well. R'gar blinked, trying to keep from derailing. Shardit, meeting a woman in the hall right now was not what he had needed. But there was something definitely wrong with her. It was also quite difficult on concentrating to figure out what that might be when he kept getting awfully and totally distracted by every little thing. He ... really ... wasn't the right person for the job right now. Even if he was a Healer.

Being jolted from one mindset to another so rapidly back and forth was hardly helping, either. But it happened. Swinging from completely distracted by rutting overflow from his dragon (argh) back to Healer again, he lurched forward in a rather ungraceful move to try and catch her. Sit down, shards she was falling. "I got you." He said, hooking a strong arm around her waist and catching her before she could crash all the way to the floor. Crouching, he let her down easy. "Can ... can you tell me what exactly you're feeling?" Argh! Wrong question. But it would have to do. If he knew the symptoms, maybe he could concentrate long enough to help her. R'gar wrestled with his mind to stay focused, which was even harder to do now that he'd touched her.

At this proximity, it was really really hard to miss those milky eyes, though. Was she blind? That wasn't a very tactful thing to ask, though, and hardly important at the moment. So he left it go unmentioned.

[Lady Smara]

Having lost one of her senses made the rest even stronger and that included her sense of touch. It was all good and well when people took her hand, elbow or shoulder to guide her to where she was going – they always warned her with some phrase or another. The sudden arm around her slender waist came a half second before the ‘I got you.’ and Prontin couldn’t help but gasp. Her long fingered hands reached down and found his skin, one laying upon the hand on her hip while the other found his arm.

His skin was warm to the touch and she felt her own raise with pin-pricks. It almost felt as if a shock was running beneath her skin. Even so her fingers clung to him as he helped her to the floor. Her lips felt so dry despite the moisture that seemed to be growing around her tongue as her heart continued to beat. Exactly what she was feeling? Her mind fumbled through the words but all that came to her mind was inappropriate…

Lifting her hand from his, she kept her other hand on his arm and turned toward it, knowing that would be the direction his body and thus his face were. “I’m sorry.” She said again through her shortened breaths. Shards she couldn’t think straight. She was no longer sure what she wanted more, release to satisfy the longing she felt pumping through her blood or for the flight to end so she could think properly once more.

“I…” think I need release. “It’s the flight, that’s all…” Just the flight. “It makes it hard for me to…” resist the urges. “…tell where I am.” Prontin found herself concentrating on the words she wished to come out of her mouth so much that she had forgotten to pay attention to her hand. Her long fingers felt the muscle beneath the man’s skin and they had been slowly moving up his arm, memorizing the feel of it.

Pulling her hand back once she had realized what she was doing, she opened her eyes again, this time looking just over his other shoulder. She carefully wet her thin lips again, “I…” she began but she couldn’t find the words to finish.

[Marnark]

For a moment R'gar worried that maybe he'd accidentally aggravated a wound or something when she gasped at being caught. Especially given how she grabbed him for it. He would have released her upon setting her down, except she seemed to forget to let go. That made it awfully difficult to let go of her, himself.

She couldn't see, that was for sure. She was staring past his shoulder now as if his head had migrated over there. R'gar couldn't help but wonder how long she'd been that way, if it was a new development. An even better question was what was a person visually impaired doing in a hallway by themself? It sounded like a recipe for disaster to him.

"Don't be. You're not going to fall now, you're good." He reassured her, trying his level best to stay focused. Not that it was doing him much of any good. He really really needed to find someone else to take care of her. This was driving him out of his mind, between Apollath's ... aherm ... issues, and her proximity. Getting felt up did not help in the least, but he really couldn't call her on that. Not if she really was blind. That was how she would see her world, after all.

"The flight?" R'gar asked, at first not understanding her words. What did a flight have to do with her, down here in the halls? She had been standing, not flying. A disgruntled nudge from Apollath, and all the pieces fell into place. Shards! " ... ah ...." he tried to back off, despite and because of her hanging on. He needed to get away from her, and quickly. Keeping his own self straight was hard enough, without having to figure out how to do that while in the company of someone else struggling in the same boat.

Shardit. Even with that realization, he was sluggish to get moving out of reach. it was harder and harder to concentrate, and the undertow was not helping at all. The heat of her body where he was still touching her, and that rather frustrating tendency she had of licking her lips was not helping. Someone else would be far better suited to taking care of her, he was completely positive. Someone who wasn't ... wasn't ... was there anyone not having this problem? Really? He was pretty sure blind women didn't have anything to do with any rutting male dragons. So she couldn't be suffering from the flight for the same reasons he was.

He sighed, confused and lost, not knowing what to do. He couldn't leave her here, as much as he knew he couldn't stay. Despite the pulling allure of simple femininity. Shards! What was he thinking? This wasn't like him, this wasn't normal. Ah hah. She was going somewhere, right? She was lost. Maybe he should see her to where she was headed for, and then he could leave. Simple, right?

Well ... not as simple as it sounded. "Where were you headed? Is it far?" He asked. He didn't know if she could stand, or walk ... she'd been pretty unsteady on her feet. But it didn't really matter. She wasn't that big. He could carry her if it came down to it.

[Lady Smara]

The blind harper wanna-be could hear the struggle and confusion in the man’s voice and behind her own fuzzy mind she sympathized with him. If this man was a rider, and most were in the Weyr, he would be feeling the lust of the dragons as they chased after the gold. She had never really understood why it affected her as well, maybe it had to do with the search dragons always finding her by mistake, or maybe her lack of sight had strengthened another sense that picked up on the gold flights. Either way she was finding reassurance in the man’s struggle – she knew there would have been worse men to stumble upon her.

Trying her best to keep her hands to herself, she chewed her bottom lip before reaching out for the wall behind her. “I was heading toward my room…” she said slowly, her breath seemed to be slowly coming back to her and Prontin deeply hoped that meant the flight was nearly over. Even if it was, there was always residue effects. “I usually stay there during a flight… its… safer for me.”

Her fingertips tingled from touching him and it was magnetic, every fiber of the lust within her wanted to reach out again, to feel his skin again. It took a lot of focus for her to be able to place her hand on her own leg instead of searching for his. “This flight… caught me off guard. I don’t seem to have made it to my room in time.”

Blushing, she looked down for a moment before turning back to him with her milky grey eyes, actually managing to focus on him this time. “Are you familiar with the Lower Caverns?” she asked, hoping he might be able to point her back into the right direction. If she took the time to search she could probably find it on her own, but if the flight was ending that meant there would be new riders on the prowl, those who had partaken in the flight and had not won. “You have the smell of… of dragon oil… like a rider and I’m afraid I do not recognize your voice.” Though you voice seems to stir my blood even if it doesn’t stir my memory.

[Marnark]

Safer in her room. She had that right. But the thought of a room also stirred other thoughts that were awfully difficult to squash back down. Shardit. He was not normally this way. But he also didn't normally have a dragon's frustration using him as a sole outlet either. She'd gone to try and find a safe place to hide, and like a fool he'd taken off and gone a-wandering. Wonderful. He was apparently not as bright as he sometimes thought he was. Of course, he hadn't known that getting away from Apollath wouldn't help any, either.

"I have a rudimentary working knowledge of the lower caverns." R'gar confirmed. "But I can't tell you where anyone in particular lives. I admit I never really prowled the quarters halls." Or followed people home. She was moving as if she wanted to get up ... that was good. If she could do that, he wouldn't have to carry her. Which would help a lot. "Let me help you..." he reached forward, and took hold of her upper arm with one hand, steadying her back with the other as he helped her to her feet again.

Dragonoil ... shards. She was not only really blind, she had been that way a long time to have senses that well developed. He'd thought he'd gotten all that washed off after the last time he'd oiled Apollath. Though ... he was also probably slightly desensitized to the scent of it, too. "I don't think we've ever met before." He agreed. Surely he would have remembered a blind woman. They weren't exactly common. "I'm R'gar." he answered, fully aware that the single introduction would answer her question of his being a rider. Contractions were wonderful that way. And after more than twenty months, he was finally getting used to being called that, instead of his full name.

"I would assume you were facing the way you were needing to go, when I found you?" R'gar asked, painfully aware of the texture of her soft skin under her shirt. Shardit, touching her was not a good idea. But at least he wasn't having to bodily lift her and cart her off.

[Lady Smara]

Prontin allowed the man, who she was beginning to realize was much taller than her, help her to her feet. His hands back on her, she felt the energy move through her at the warmth of his touch. The hand upon her back was large compared to her small frame making her thankful he didn’t seem to be looking for release and at the same time making her long for it even more.

Reaching out the arm that was not being held onto, she found the rock of the wall to steady herself. Even with his hand on her back and her hand on the wall, she found herself shaky upon her feet yet still standing.

“R’gar. Rider R’gar.” She replied with a smile, even as her lips itched to repeat the name a third time. Turning her head, she bowed it toward him in good manners. “My name is Prontin. Daughter of the WeyrHarper here.” Listening to his words and unsure what the undertone in his voice meant, she decided she needed to stop focusing on the way he smelled and the feel of his touch.

“Mmmhmm.” She said, tilting a little as lost the battle of her focus for a moment. Leaning into his touch, she spoke a little more softly. “After the public bathing area, we want to pass the first corridor and take the second. The hallway sways to the left, so don’t bump your elbows, and its 85 paces to my door on the right. It would be the third door after the sway to the left.” Her voice sounded intoxicated to her own ears, a strange sensation as she had never drank the wine offered at hatching feasts.

[Marnark]

Would she be able to walk that far? R'gar wasn't so sure. But anywhere would be better than here. Surely. She was trying, though. And that counted for a whole lot. He wished he was confident enough in her ability to stay standing to let go of her. But he wasn't. It had in a real pickle of a situation. It was frustrating, in both frames of mind.

He laughed softly as she tried his name out more than once. "That's my name, don't wear it out." He joked, glad to have something to say that for once wasn't being twisted by a rather one-track impulse. "Prontin. That's a nice name." He offered, trying to stay on the side of concentrating on the real world. Not the world of his dragon, or ... or ... shardit. That didn't work. Compliments apparently were too easy to fall in the other direction. Wait. Weyrharper? He didn't know there was such a thing. Furthermore, where did the South get their Harpers, when the Harper Hall was in the North? All very intriguing questions that helped him keep a half way decent grasp on his mind. Keep it busy, don't let it stray.

For what it was worth, it was all totally ruined when he moved out to the side and was consequently forced to shift his hold on her. That completely derailed his efforts to keep his mind occupied with philisophical questions. Textures and other sensations completely overwhelmed all that effort. R'gar cleared his throat, as he listened as closely as he could manage to her directions. Be just his luck if he managed to get her totally lost.

But, on the other hand, it gave him more food for thought. She had a heck of a map in her head, right down to how many steps it was to somewhere. That ... that was something else. But again probably just part of compensating for not being able to see. Her landmarks must come in different forms. "Okay. This way, then." he said, before starting her off in what he hoped was the right direction. He had passed a community bath earlier on in his walk, so that was somewhat reassuring.

But only now did the reality of just how far apart things were come into stark focus for him, as he started helping her navigate the place. He'd never before noticed just how much distance was between various halls, of all things. It had been irrelevant before. As they reached various of her landmarks, he told her so, letting her know where they were getting to as they got there.

[Lady Smara]

Prontin walked with the rider as he guided her through the halls she would never see. Even as her mind began to unconsciously count her steps, her hand found its way to his side. At first she touched it lightly, as nervous as she was caught up in the emotions of the flight. When he did not pull away, however, she let her hand slide up to his shoulder. She was surprised to find his shoulder above her head, it made this R’gar a rather tall rider indeed. Letting her thumb caress it, she attempted to pull herself back into focus.

She slowed her steps at a wooden door and while she couldn’t see it, she knew the door was well above her head, though not out of her reach. It was as wide as one of her arms extended completely. She did not know what the color of the wood was, but she knew it to be rough and unfinished like those that closed the WeyrHall from bad weather. The sole detail that made this door stand out from every other one across the hall was the design roughly carved in the middle of the door, level with her own shoulders – a childlike picture of a violin.

Reaching her hand to the door, she felt for the picture first before turning to the rider her other hand still held. Letting the hand on her shoulder slide down to his chest, she raised the other one to rest it on the other side. Lifting her face to where she hoped R’gar’s face was, she gave him a soft smile. “You have been a gentleman, Rider R’gar.”

Taking another breath, she caught that smell of dragonoil on him again and closed her eyes. She had smelled it many times on other riders, but for some reason it mixed well with this man. Laying her forehead between her hands, she took another deep breath, forgetting completely what she was saying with the feel of his strong body beneath her hands.

[Marnark]

It was a good thing he'd had the directions to follow to find the place to concentrate on, and getting her there to concentrate on. Added to the knowledge that everything was an illusion, and induced by outside passing influences ... it was almost the only way he actually managed to get her there. Especially considering that she was almost blatantly fondling him. Now was just not the right time to be getting that kind of attention from any woman ... it was also a very good thing he was not as impulsive as, say, C'mar ... who would have probably ripped all her clothes off by now. It was certainly hard to not think about, the way she was sending fire lancing through all of his over-attentive nerves.

By her earlier mention of a Weyrharper, he figured the carved symbol meant just that. Harper quarters. Made so a blind person could find and identify it. So, this had to be the right place. Whew! Now maybe he could get away from her before something happened he'd probably regret for the rest of his miserable life. Unfortunately, she didn't seem inclined to disappear behind that door ... or even let him go. She was still leaning on him, and he couldn't step away without dashing her to the floor. Which he certainly was not about to do. He was a Healer, not a brute.

He couldn't help but smile slightly in return at her smile, not realizing until afterward that she wouldn't even notice. Ach. How did she survive being blind? That thought was completely derailed all over again when she all out leaned on his chest, clearly in no hurry to go anywhere. "I ... do try." He answered, uncertainly, not at all certain what to do now. "Do you want me to open the door?" Maybe that was it ... could she open it without being able to see? Either way, he was really starting to squirm in his own skin. All this contact was just not good for the rational psyche.

Though she really didn't seem to be about to fall, he gently placed his hands on her upper arms anyway, just to be sure. She'd folded up once already just since he'd run into her. Or, at least that's what his rational mind was trying to tell himself. Either way, it didn't really matter. Whatever the reason for it, everywhere he came into contact with her, it made his own skin tingle.

Shard you, Apollath! Why can't you keep your notions to yourself?

It's not my fault! the brown protested.

[Lady Smara]

Feeling his large, strong hands rest upon her arms, Prontin was nearly unable to pull herself back to her over stimulated senses. Lifting her head from his chest, she shook it and wet her lips carefully as she attempted to focus. It was his offer to open the door for her that made her finally laugh. It was a light laugh, one that came out as she realized he might not even be as affected as she was. After all not every rider was found out on the prowl and she had already determined that he was different. More… Honorable. And despite what her body was telling her, she was thankful for it.

Her hands made fists for a moment, grabbing hold of his shirt as she made a last finally effort to regain her senses. Slowly releasing the material, she carefully smoothed it back and at last stepped away from the rider until her back was against the door. Habit had her raising her eyes again, though they did not fall upon his face, instead upon his left shoulder. “No… That’s okay, Rider R’gar.” Her voice wavered and it slid into her mind to use a play on words, to flirt with the man she enjoyed the feel of.

Pushing the thought aside, she felt her thin lips turn up even as she blushed against her already flushed skin. “I think I can manage a simple door.” Letting out a shaky breath, she shook her head again, a few strands of her hair falling in her face. Not needing to see clearly, she didn’t bother moving them. “Thank you for helping me home… If… If there is anything I can do…. To repay you…”

Did I just say that?... If this flight is affecting me so badly, what will the next do to me?

[Marnark]

It was very, very hard to breathe, with her resting on his chest. Why? He had no idea. It didn't make any logical sense. She certainly wasn't crushing the air out of him. He could probably pick her up one handed if he wanted to. Not that he would. It seemed to last a literal eternity, but in the end she did stand on her own feet again and with it he took a slow breath, watching her.

As she stepped back toward the door, he released her, carefully and pointedly returning his hands to his own person. More precisely, to his pockets. Stay out of trouble. She could manage the door. Excellent. Again, he smiled slightly at her dismissal and gratitude. His normal answer to things like that was that it was nothing ... but this had hardly been nothing. In fact, it had been rather torturous. Certainly tested the bounds and control of the rational mind over the primal. So instead, he invented a new answer on the spot. "You're welcome. Don't worry about it. Be safe."

With that, he turned and walked away, back up the hall. It was two things at the same time, as contrary as that might be. It was the hardest thing in the world he'd ever experienced (yes, even including the harrowing journey across the ocean), to force himself to walk away from her. But he also wasn't about to tarry, lest the resolve waver. He had to get away from her. Quickly. Now. Before it was too late.

Pulling an unsteady breath of his own as he rounded the first corner, R'gar shook his head. What in the world was wrong with him? Getting away from her helped, but he was still quite bothered. More than he had been before running into her. However, all that aside, he had learned one very important lesson: stay in his sharding weyr when Apollath got all excited.

With quick steps and a long stride he retraced his steps to get back to his own place, hopefully before running into anyone else.