C'ben slowly rose to consciousness, the fog of a pleasant dream rising to allow his senses to take in his real surroundings. His bed felt more comfortable than ever, and it was indeed his bed, not one of some female greenrider. Then again, he hadn't expected this, but the memory of the loss of the flight was still there. Now though, he couldn't really say that he regretted it. With a grin, he rolled onto his back, stretching languidly and allowing the muscles to stretch, then ease. He was stiff, and probably a little sore. His rendezvous had ended with a passion that was a good substitute for a dragon mating flight.

Beside him, a woman roused, flipping around and creeping her arms across his chest. She was awake, looking up at him with an almost wicked grin. With her dark hair tossled, she looked very much like she had a long night, and the hollow look around her eyes looked a tad darker than the evening before. Despite all this, she was still attractive in a creepy way, and her personality and tenacity beneath the bedsheets certainly made it so C'ben had little qualms about her appearance. Her gaze looked as if she was judging him, gauging his mood, but it lasted only for a split second as she relaxed completely, sliding her head onto his chest with a long, exaggerated groan. "Oh, brownrider! How pleasant you've made my first day at the Weyr."

"Oh? Well you've certainly made my afterflight sorrows lift. I thank you, my messenger friend." C'ben could say this without fear of jealousy from this woman, for she was well aware of what she was getting into, and willing to be a part of it. With a grin that would nearly match the wicked cunning of his bedmate, he pulled her atop him, as much to hold her close as to look at her. She complied, though always she held a look in her eye that told C'ben she wasn't like other girls at all; always in control. Even the strongest of women would normally bend to the will of a man, and very much like this treatment! This woman though.. so fascinating.

"Find something interesting?" Impishly, the woman crossed her thin arms across his chest. Her elbows were slightly sharp, but he wouldn't complain. She was build for work, and was beautiful because of it. Smiling, he toussled her hair, since locks like hers wasn't the sort a man could run his hair through. "Just thinking back on our night, bedmate. By the Shells, you should have been a dragonrider."

Her laugh was good natured. "Oh, quite possibly, brownrider, but then again I wouldn't be where I am now if I had." She kept calling him brownrider, probably because she had forgotten his name, but that didn't bother him. Besides, he couldn't remember hers. Or.. did she even give him her name? She didn't seem to mind him avoiding it, so he wouldn't pry.

----

C'ben of brown Leovenath. Wingrider in Queens wing, and hoping for a promotion. Terna could remember everything in his room from the sweeping look she gave it last night.. not that she was even paying attention. She had other things on her mind. She'd come to Kharasi because she was on a mission, but it was late in the evening when she came into the lower caverns to get some klah and some food in her belly from the long journey on foot she had to take to escape from Thyra. She had seen a rather sullen man, her age or a little older, mulling over his wine, a flask next to him still full. He wasn't into his cups just yet, and she knew that this must have been a man who had lost a flight. He must have nearly fell over from her forwardness when she had come over, placed her hand upon his and said. "Don't have too much now. I won't bed men too far gone to enjoy it."

Of course, he could have very much denied her forwardness, but dragonriders are made of something that ordinary men are not. He knew a need, and knew that if he had a willing, open partner to share it with that there was no reason why he couldn't follow through. Of course, this was not before they talked for long into the night over a few moderately drank glasses of wine, enjoying the company of another. She'd learned much about him, and was surprised he was craftbred. She should have guessed, but he had agreed to her advances so innocently that she couldn't imagine the Craft or Hold vices to ever have grasp of him. Oh yes, she remembered almost everything that he told her. That's why she was so good at her job.

"Oh, didn't you have to be somewhere?" No, it wasn't a hint for her to leave. When Terna gazed at his expression, it was one of concern. With a nod, she yawned and slipped off of him, letting her fingers graze his chest as she stepped off onto the cold stone floor. "Yes, I do in fact. I need to talk to the Weyrwoman actually. Do you think that she would be at the morning meal? She frowned at her own clothes, which were dirty. "Do you have any clothes from your past lovers? Mine are so dirty..." He made no move to stop her as she looked through his spare trunk, finding the tunic and pants of a slighter figure.. and probably a man's clothes. She made no judgement, for she herself knew no boundaries of gender preference.

"For the Weyrwoman?" He had stopped admiring her as she washed her face in the cold water of his water basin and registered what she had said. "Is it urgent?"

"Oh, it very well may be." Now she was teasing him, and his shock was enjoyed immensely by her more mischievous side. "But I assure you the Weyrwoman would not like to be bothered in the middle of the night while her queen is mulling over eggs on the sands. If it alleviates your guilt, I'll tell her myself that I was tending to her Weyr's more personal needs." The man actually blushed.

Their pleasantries were short and heartfelt after that point, and Terna, the secret that was always best kept, slipped out to break the nightly fast early in hopes to run into the Weyrwoman.