Xanadu Weyr - Dragon's Rest Farm
In contrast to the gigantic barn is the smaller homestead. The structure is a small two-level cottage, complete with a covered porch that sweeps around the exterior. The wooden slats of the house seem freshly painted, as if this old place has been brought back to life by careful hands. A chair-swing sways beneath the shade of the porch, moving with the slightest breeze off the sea. Inside, the quaint space has been decked out with the comforts one might expect. Fluffy rugs cover hardwood floors, and finely carved furniture dominates most of the spaces. A few things here and there seem older, heirlooms that now have a new place to call home.

Everything within the cottage is comfortable, rather than elaborate. Though it may have once been empty, there is now a warm, welcoming feel to the place. Many large windows and sliding doors look out upon both the training field and across the road, a view of the beach and the sea beyond. Even on the hottest days, these can be opened to let in air and leave the rooms cool and comfortable. Set back a ways from many of the other Weyrbarns along the roadway, there is plenty of room for those who need a bit of space and privacy. There is plenty of space, leaving room to grow, to learn, to expand, and most of all… it is a warm, safe place to come home to when the day's tasks are done.

(Continued from What's Cookin'?)
Rated-R for Adult Themes

He doesn't want to go, but he has to go. This is one of those things he agreed to do upon saying yes to that white Candidate's knot so many turns ago, isn't it? It isn't only about him. As much as Ka'el wants to believe that Soriana is his number one, she really isn't. She is and forever will be second to his bull-headed bronze, and thus, he goes to him. Leaving behind his weyrmate and the chili and their couch on which he would've tackled her on to and played with her and then possibly get serious with her again and listen to her serious words and give serious words of his own. Not now. Now, he's gone. Gone to chase his bronze who now chases a green. That flowery scent is intoxicating to the both of them, and it isn't long before his mind is gone, a slave to draconic impulses.

Hours pass. The flight is a minor one. Not a goldflight that'd wake the weyr with waves of lustful thoughts and urges. Not counting the green, there were only four chasers total. Two blues, a brown, and mighty Kanekith, who was easily the most impressive of the males by sight alone, his wingspan great, his hide gleaming metallic. But it isn't (just) looks that wins flights. Showy as he is, it takes an agile male to catch a green as small as Haycinath, and blues are just more capable. The night goes on. The flight over. Riders dispersed. Ka'el being one of them. It's over in the sky, but it isn't done in other places. His mind is still jumbled with Kanekith's. Thoughts difficult to decipher. Which are his? Which are his dragon's? Why did he chase? Why did he allow him to chase? Shardit. He isn't sure where he's going or even where he is exactly, but he's moving towards something with a sense of urgency. He clutches something in his hand. Something warm and important, his mind tells him. But he's heading the wrong way! The back of his mind tells him this, but he shuts that voice up. No he isn't. He's sure of it, and he becomes even more sure when his boots clunk up the steps to the porch, announcing his arrival. He's here. Home. There's the front door. But his heart is still racing, his thoughts hot and wild and … He looks to the right of him. To the flushed-faced hazel-eyed woman whose hand he holds. Pretty. Curvy. She giggles, and he grins as he advances on her, kissing her hungrily.

Home is important. It's even warm. Like in bed, under the blankets, but Soriana isn't in bed. She's on the couch, in an awkward position caused by closing her eyes for 'just a minute' while she waited. And waited. Maybe she'll be waiting for morning. Maybe she should have gone to bed, but she didn't, because she kept telling herself that she'd wait just a few more minutes, and Ka'el would be home. …and then he is! The thump of boots awakes her. It wouldn't, if she were in bed sleeping soundly, but that crick in her neck from the way she's slumped on the couch means she wasn't exactly having a good night's sleep. It's… not exactly a good night. But she's awake now, and she blinks a bit to clear her head. There's another of the thumps from outside, and she kicks away the couch pillow that's fallen on her feet (not under her head, that'd be too much like comfortable) and swings her legs off the couch to rise. He'll open the door in just a moment, of course, but she'll be there to greet him. But then he doesn't open the door. Maybe she's just hearing things, but she thought… and what could it possibly hurt to open the door and check? So she does. And there's Ka'el. And there's… Soriana's hand stays on the doorknob. It tightens there. She stays in the doorway. She looks. She sees… "Kale." Her voice is far too calm. She's not shouting, not in the slightest. Not wailing, not breaking down. Oh no. She's just standing there. And she just said his name.

There was something far in his mind that was trying to tell Ka'el that this isn't exactly what he wanted. But now that his lips are pressed against the painted lips of this .. stranger, it feels nothing but right. How could this be wrong? It isn't. She even smells good. Reminiscent of those flowers that flooded his senses before, but her fragrance, something from a bottle bought from the shelves of perhaps Xanadu's own flower shop, is sweeter. Her full lips feel different than the lips that lie in his memory. But different isn't bad, right? Right. None of this bad. The way that he kisses her .. is different. But not bad? Sloppily, with his tongue thrust into her mouth and a hand gripping at a thigh that he lifts to press against the side of his own. Pressing against her. Grinding against her with a muffled groan from the both of them. And she? She is not a rider. There is no not against a shoulder that would deem her as one. Her face is not a familiar once amongst the ranks of dragon riders. She's just a girl. A weyrbred girl who knows how these things work and it was just pure luck that of all the men she could've sank her claws into it was the Weyrleader himself! This is an unexpected thrill, and she's all too happy to allow his hands to roam where he wants. Hers are doing quite the amount of exploration, besides. She's exceptionally lucky that he's not wearing all of that pesky riding gear. It's a pain to get off and maneuver around. But it's just a shirt. Her hands can easily slide up a shirt, as they do now as she is so roughly kissed. His hands are rough. His grip, tight. She can feel his body quivering. Excitement, or restraint? She'll see. Soon, from the loo-…feel of things. She gasps at that grind. Then gasps again at a voice, and her eyes open widely. No. Way. She struggles away from the kiss (as Ka'el apparently has gone deaf) to peer over his shoulder at.. "Wh.. Weyrwoman..?!"

Flights… happen. Flights are part of what happens when one has a dragon. What comes after flights, what riders do while dragons are enjoying themselves… that happens too. But… this isn't a dragonrider, dragged to the shelter of that guest weyr. This has the smell of flowers and… "Yes," Soriana says, and she meets those hazel eyes with ones that are cold and still. She is, in fact, the Weyrwoman. The Junior one, not that it matters much just now. What matters more is that this is her house. Her house and… oh, yes, it's Ka'el's house. Perhaps one day he'll drag someone back while the flight's still going. Perhaps Soriana will have to deal with that, but right now, Kanekith's not twining in the sky. Soriana doesn't have to deal with that right now, just… "And you are?" Her lips part, revealing teeth. It's almost a smile. Close enough to a smile to be terrifying in the fact that it's not actually a smile. She doesn't step closer, doesn't leave the doorway of her house. Just stands there, and eyes the woman over Ka'el's eager (so eager!) shoulder, and asks her question in a very level tone.

For some reason there are no lips on his anymore. Whatever. There's a neck, and kissing a neck will suffice for now, and Ka'el nips and suckles upon the curvature of that neck. Nailtips bite into his skin in response. The fingernails of hands hidden beneath the front of his shirt. Kanekith did not win this flight, no. He gave a good chase, but it was one of those blues that won the prize. All he won was a lot of frustration and anger at losing, and all he could do is fly it off. Ka'el? He can't fly. Nor could he escape the tension that had built itself up within him. He probably could drink it away. One surefire way of losing sexual frustration is to become too drunk to even feel sexually frustrated anymore. And there's Soriana himself, who he could've turned to. But this woman that he so lusts for now came before a bar or his home. But even as he kisses and tugs at her, he can hear a voice speaking. A familiar voice. But he doesn't answer first. "Innocent," she answers, pulling her hands out from beneath his shirt. "I found him this way, you see. And he…oh!" Her face flushes with pink as a press of teeth to her shoulder and a roll of his hips causes a shudder. See? Innocent. "Weyrleader.." she whispers as she detangles herself from him, finally, and straightens her skirt. "I was bringing him to you." Eventually. She just didn't think you'd be here right now, you see. Ka'el blinks. Then blinks again. Then turns and… Sori! Synapses in his lust-drunk brain fire. "..Soriana." Heeey there!

Soriana has a quite good view of just what Ka'el is doing. Perhaps not quite so good as Innocent's - not that it's her name, but Soriana supposes she can't blame the woman for not wanting to give that. For that, Soriana can't blame her. For the rest of what she's doing? Yeah, Soriana can blame Innocent just fine for that. For what Ka'el is doing… that, she'll have to blame Ka'el himself (and Kanekith) for. "How kind of you," she says in that tone meaning more or less exactly the opposite. Her lips widen further, showing more of that grimace that really isn't a smile at all. "I expect you'll be off, then. Now that you've done that." She thought about asking for a name again, but… anyone bright enough to come up with an evasion the first time is bright enough to lie the second. And anyone who goes chasing after riders in flightlust is probably not overly concerned with keeping their conscience squeaky-clean. So really, it's not worth asking - and besides. Ka'el turns around, and Soriana's eyes go from Innocent to Him. It's a stare. Maybe a glare. Like she's trying to look through his eyes and however deep into his skull is required in order to figure out what happened and why he thought this was a good idea - because she saw what he was doing, and regardless of who started it, Ka'el definitely thought this was a good idea. He was being enthusiastic in his participation. Soriana? "Yes." Yes she is. And that grimace of a smile vanishes, replaced by a close-lipped frown.

How kind of her, indeed! She dips her head, all the while knowing that the junior weyrwoman is being anything but sincere. But this fake kindness is much preferred over what could be happening now. Shouting. Consequences, dire. Citizens are the weyrwomen's domain, and nameless or not, she is a citizen. And so it doesn't take much prodding to get her to leave. She knows an opportunity when she sees one, and this one is definitely a window of one. "Yes ma'am," she answers, bobbing her head again. "I leave him in your capable care. Good evening to you, Weyrwoman. Weyrleader." Her eyes flit to Ka'el once more, a fathom of a smirk lifting just a single corner of her mouth. Almost! What a missed chance. And then, she turns and hurries down the porch steps to disappear down the road. Freedom!

Ka'el, on the other hand, is not free. He's definitely not free from that glare he's getting. It's like…lasers to the brain, her stare. He blinks at her again, then slowly begins to grin. Soriana. This is where he was heading towards. This weyr and her. He needed to get back to her. Now he remembers! And she's frowning at him. Hmmmm. Perhaps its his lips, painted red from the kiss. .. No, numbskull. It's not the lipstick, scolds his foggy brain. "I was lookin' for you."

Those dire consequences might yet come. Soriana can ask around for people who meet a certain description. She can drop by places, casual-like, until she sees Innocent and learns what Beneficent's name really is. She can. She may. Right now, though, there's Ka'el, and while he can grin to her, her frown remains as she looks at him. "Were you." He's found her. Not… as quickly as might have been hoped. Not before finding complications. But he did find her. She stands there in the doorway for another moment, blocking the entrance to their home. Because he does still live here, right? …she supposes he does. She steps back from the doorway, takes her hand off the knob as she turns around and walks inside, crossing the room to… the couch. Huh. Apparently that's what she was crossing the room to, and she bends down to pick up that fallen pillow, tossing it onto the couch somewhat harder than is actually required.

One good thing about flight lust is .. when you don't win a flight, it goes away without the repercussion of sleeping with someone and not remembering shit about it. Hey if you lose a flight, you can possibly even choose who to sleep with! If you can get to that person and that person is willing to put up with you in your current state. This could've ended in good ways! Having your weyrmate glare at you? Not the best of ways… But… at least he didn't sleep with someone. That's a plus. Right? Once the doorway is unblocked and he's allowed entrance, he enters the weyr and shuts the door behind him. Home, sweet home! Ahhh, complete with the lingering aroma of chili! Which…reminds him that he's hungry. But more important than his hunger is Soriana herself, who he follows towards that couch just as she throws that pillow down onto it. What'd that pillow ever do to her? His conscious self is slowly clawing its way through his mind. He knows she's upset. "Baby… why're you mad?" That's not what he meant to ask. The words were supposed to be 'I'm so sorry I tongue attacked that girl' and so on and so forth, but he hasn't quite fully made it out of the fog yet. He reaches out attempting to curl an arm around her middle from behind. "Don' be mad."

Or… end up with someone because they… were there. Or… other reasons? Because Soriana doesn't really know the whys and wherefores. Shards, does Ka'el even know them? He should, insists a part of her, even as the rest of her… knows what it's like in the early parts of a flight. Not that she's ever had a flight where she didn't, uh… win. Though she's felt Toral chasing, and there were goldflights back when she was just weyrfolk. None of it the same, but… she could maybe sympathize. She's just not sure if she actually wants to be sympathetic. She might just want to be mad, and her jaw clenches at his question, fists starting to curl up. "I -" she begins, and her voice is no longer that level and ever so calm one. Oh yeah, she's mad, and you don't have to read the subtle signs to know it. Ka'el reaches for her, and she steps away from him, spinning to face him with her hands curled into fists and that glare again. How much was him, and how much was that girl? …but she's gone now. It's just Ka'el. "So what, was Kanekith blocking the arch?" It doesn't even make sense. Kanekith was flying. Chasing. He wouldn't just go home to sulk. But…

That reaching arm succeeds in grabbing at air, and it falls back to Ka'el's side as a disappointed look tugs at his expression. But, but… he wants to hold on to someone. No, not someone. Her. He wants to hold on to her, and she's right there but…she won't let him. Meh. Body to body was definitely good. That girl wanted her body to his body, and the press of him to her … he wants that press. Lips and teeth and curves and hands and.. "What?" He blinks. His mind was back on the porch. On the girl whose name he never did bother to ask. She knew who he was, and that's all that mattered at the time. "Kanekith?" .. Oh, right, this is his fault! But no, that wasn't what she was asking. She's being angry. Making snide remarks. But, he's considering her words as if they were anything but. "No. No, he wasn't. … I dunno why I didn't go there." No, Ka'el. No. Things like that are not what you're supposed to say! But his mouth keeps moving and the words keep flowing out of it, unchecked. "I forgot it was there. Next time, I'll…" Next time? He pauses, brows furrowing now. He shakes his head, briskly. What the shell is he saying? "No. I didn't mean it like that."

Her? Because… it looked a lot like 'someone' was all Ka'el wanted. Whoever's closest, and now that's Soriana. Just what every girl wants to hear. 'Hey babe, you look real convenient tonight!' … 'Hey babe, you know what I like? Availability!' Soriana's mouth settles back into her frown. Kanekith, yeah. She nods sharply. That's who she… hah, she can't even blame him. He started all this, but he's a dragon doing what dragons do. Which isn't, apparently, blocking the way to Ka'el's nice private weyr, the one that Soriana wouldn't even know if he dragged someone back to and… "And what about last time?" If there was a last time. But that's the point, isn't it? She doesn't know if there was a last time. How many last times there might have been. The words are sharp, and there's a bright glint in her eyes of tears - angry tears. Unshed ones. Sharp ones, shining out at him. She ignores them. "Then what did you mean?" She's angry. Upset. Glaring at him, through that sheen.

This is such a confusing time. Poor Ka'el. (Yes he's the victim here!) One minute he's kissing a hot woman, the next, he's faced with a very angry one. What's a man to do? And to make matters worse, now she's asking all these confusing questions! All he wanted was … well it's obvious what he wanted, which is also obviously what he's not going to be getting. But at least arguing and love-making rest on opposite poles of the Flight Spectrum, and these angry, accusatory words are draining him of the high of the chase and feelings thereafter. That's a plus. Probably the only one. "What last time?" he shoots back, now frowning at her. "Oh. Wait. You mean Via? Or Crs'ta? Or Amaya? J'nelle? Or Idrissa?" Was that too low of a blow? Ka'el's not even sure where this anger of his is coming from, but it's here, just as hot as hers, sans the glare of tears, which, although startling, doesn't dry the flood of words. "Ah that's right. They never happened because I do and tell him everything I can shardin' think of to keep him off the greens that rise every two shardin' seconds around here. You don't, you don't have a clue, do you? What I do, to keep him down. To keep me down. For you?" He scowls at her last, frustrated at her. At himself. "I didn't mean anything."

What last time? Soriana doesn't know. That's the point. Or at least, it seems like the point. It probably isn't the point, not really. The real point's probably something about… oh, about the fact that he's not in his right mind. Or wasn't, anyway. The fact that the flight, whether or not he won it, muddled his brain. Like being drunk, except… not. That's one of the real, actual points. Another of them is that - even flight-muddled and lost in lust - he came back here. The very fact that he's here to be yelled at is because this is home, because he wasn't thinking and he wasn't meaning to cheat. Because he was lost in the flight, and even then his instincts said that this was home and this is good. That's one of the actual points, but Soriana's not thinking of that. The point she's thinking of is wondering if there has been another time, wondering just how much is flight-lust, wondering if some of it is that Ka'el wants someone curvier or with softer eyes or who giggles like that, and if maybe if it wasn't a flight he'd still have been tempted - still wanted it - even if he had the sense to avoid the fight. She frowns right back at him, because this fight isn't being avoided. This one is here, present, being had. Because there are extenuating circumstances, but she didn't expect to have to find them like that. Like… last time. She knows of one 'last time' that actually happened, and that was how Ka'el became Weyrleader. But that was winning, not… losing and losing control. Now she listens to a list of last times, a list of names. Greenriders. Riders with dragons that Kanekith… might care to chase. Probably does care to chase. Or would, but Soriana takes that list of names like a list of conquests. Why shouldn't she? She's never interrogated him about when Kanekith's chased and won and lost. That's flights. This… "I mean Innocent," not that it's the woman's name, but like Soriana cares, "Or Sweety or Darling or… whoever." The ones who aren't riders. The ones where it's not a flight. …except it is a flight, isn't it? This is all about the flights, it's just… different aspects of them. Aspects that are, some of them, harder to accept than others. Ka'el looks like he's in control. He seems like he should be in control. He's just… mad at her, now, and that's something closer to being in control. Except not really, because he's swung out of impulsive lust and into unthinking anger. Both of them, angry about a thing that never happened, and her brows arch at her insistence about that, surprise cast into skepticism by the frustration she feels. Because she believed him, when he listed them. She believed him and she was willing to deal with them, to deal with that, because that's… part of dragons and part of flights. Because sometimes all the things don't work, no matter how many of them get tried. She knows he tries, but somehow, the surprise, the rug swept out from under her, transforms that into new frustration. "For me. And you don't shardin' think that maybe I - that I'm not some free-love tramp circling around? That I do care. That I'm not going to just run off. That it makes a difference what happens, even if it… even if it's a flight." She shakes her head, angry - at him. At herself. At the tears blurring her vision and getting in the way. Stupid tears. She doesn't want them, so why won't they go away? They're just multiplying instead. Stupid Ka'el. He doesn't mean anything? "Then fine." It's not fine. Just like it wasn't okay. She gives her head another shake, smears the back of her hand across her eyes to force the tears away. "I'm going out." Where? It's the middle of the night. …and for how long? She's wearing socks and baggy pants, not outdoor clothes. Maybe that's an answer. Maybe it's not, but it's not like she gives a better one as she crosses the room and opens the door again. Shuts it again, with her on the other side… and walks away into the night.

There's so much anger circling, spiraling out of control. And for what? Dragons. It's always dragons. Uncontrolled flights. Flights in general. Flights won. Flights lost. Why would anyone agree to this? Why did he agree to this? To the Darlings and Innocents and Sweeties of the world, he will forever be a prize to be won. To sleep with a rider in flight lust! It's bound to be a wild ride. Bonus points if he is of rank. Who chooses that sort of life? He does, apparently. A life chosen where control is not always his and good days can do a one eighty and turn into bad nights. Where one small dragon can be the catalyst for a big argument where tears show themselves and words are inadvertently shouted. He knows she's not a tramp, just waiting for the next rider. He knows that she cares. He knows…a lot of things that he doesn't voice right now. Too caught up in anger. They're not fine. They're not okay. But she's leaving. "Out where?" he asks, a frown accompanying his words, but he doesn't get an answer. He watches her leave, then follows to the doorframe where he stops to glare at the closed door that he yanks open. He wants to yell at her. Shout at her to go ahead and go. Yell for her to please come back.. In the end, he shuts the door with more force than intended and curses. Then curses again. He retraces his steps back to the couch which he sinks in to, glowering. He didn't even do anything! Well … not really? And…puh. 'Last time.' How many times does she think there were? How many women does she believe he's been sleeping around with? He grabs at the pillow to squeeze at it. "…Whatever." Muttered. He flops down to lay on the cushions, back facing the openness of the living space. She'll be back. He closes his eyes, but sleep won't come for a while. Not with his mind whirring. Not with his ears listening for the sound of her return. And definitely not while he's still fuming.

Soriana doesn't answer the where. She doesn't even turn back at the sound of that opened door, going down the steps in her stocking feet and out… across the yard. At least Luraoth's still in her barn. This isn't going to be a barefoot Weyrwoman going through between to who knows where because of those dragons, but Soriana is going. Walking out through the darkness. Eventually, Haruhi and Toral will come to sleep on the couch. Haruhi because the couch is her space that she keeps for herself. Toral because… well, he usually sleeps in the vicinity of a human, and Soriana's still not back. The couch isn't all that comfortable for a night's sleep - naps, sure, but not a whole night - and the firelizards make it less so. Not that Soriana's there to see, because she doesn't come home that night. That probably means she found somewhere to go. Or it might mean that those night-time baddies that Ka'el-the-Galaxy-Rider worries about found her. Who knows? But she's gone.

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