The Possibility of Hope (PG-17)

Writers: Miriah, Suzee
Date Posted: 3rd April 2019
Series: The Wingleader's Surgery

Characters: Cyradis, D'hol
Description: Cyradis brings both comfort and hope.
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 10, day 24 of Turn 9
Notes: PG17
Rating: PG-17

Cyradis

D'hol

---

He'd called up for a good bottle and by Faranth, the kitchens had
moved fast. He wasn't interested in the roast nor the bubbly pie that
they'd sent up; he hadn't requested it, so had set it aside where it
now lay cooling. Instead, he poured a small finger width of the strong
drink, sat at his table and watched it swirl in his glass. He hadn't
drunk anything in months, but it seemed tonight would be the night
that he should. He absently wondered how much of an affect it would
have on the minuscule dose of fellis he'd already taken, then
shrugged, tipping the drink back to swallow.

"Is that a good idea?" Cyradis asked from the doorway. She was wearing
a dress from long ago. It was a simple wrap dress and tied on the side
with a bow. But that wasn't the significance. It was the dress she'd
worn the first time she'd come to him after their flight. The blush
color of the flowy fabric almost matched the color of her skin so that
the dress gave a rather stimulating illusion in the right light.

He didn't even look up at the sound of her voice, hadn't even noticed
his door opening, but he knew the voice as well as his own. He went
still, his cheek sucking in as he sank his teeth into Taking a
breath, he poured another glass, resting on his elbows as he remained
at the table. "Probably isn't." He rubbed his eyes, then pinched the
bridge of his nose, taking a sip, but not downing it as he had the
first. "What is it now? Trying to rush me to the infirmary already?"
He snorted. "I'll be out of your hair quickly enough without you
rushing me there." He then turned his head and went still. He
recognized the dress immediately and the memory of the first time he'd
been with her, made love to her without their dragons involved, burst
into his mind with a sharpness that would have bled if it had been
able to physically cut. It was like a blow and he set the glass in his
hand down hard. There was visible pain on his face as he turned away.
"Shaffit, Cyradis. how deep are you trying to stick that knife of
yours?" He put his head in his hands, fingers curling in his hair.

"Why do you think it is that you believe everything I do is to hurt
you? I've never really thought of myself as that kind of person." She
took a few steps into the room. "I have to care for an entire Weyr and
hold myself as the calm center of the storm around me. Not everything
I do or say is about you." Her lips curled up into a gentle smile.
The healers had told her his attitude going into surgery would be all
important in getting him through it and the recovery after. She'd even
talked to K'deren about her plan and while he hadn't been happy about
it, he'd sent her on her way. "But right now? Right here? This _is_
about you."

"I know that. You've made that very clear." He stared at the glass on
the table and was filled with the sudden desire to throw it. His
fingers clasped the glass, but he didn't throw it, instead tossing
back the remainder and allowing the heat of the liqueur to slide down
his throat. He didn't look at her, not in that dress. "Saying goodbye,
then?" He cleared his throat."Might as well say it." His throat
tightened as he looked up at the bottle again and reached for it to
pour another drink.

A soft, deep voice sounded in Cyradis' mind. }: He is scared, Cyradis.
More scared than I have ever remembered. :{

**I know, so am I** She wasn't certain if Yumath could hear her but
she knew Panitath could relay her thoughts and her feelings.

"D'hol," she said softly. "I don't want to say goodbye." She loosened
the tie and her dress slid to the floor.

"Well you may not have..." The light sound of the cloth slipping to
his floor made him go still and his words falter, his hand wavering
over the bottle. Very slowly, D'hol turned his head and what met his
gaze made his lips part in shock. There was a quick, in drawn breath
and a spasm of his hands as his eyes drank in the shape of her, the
sight that had plagued his memories for turns. "What?" The question
was breathed out, and for a moment D'hol believed that the fellis and
the alcohol had combined to bring a hallucination to him so vivid that
it would only fade the instant he tried to touch. "Why?"

"Because I love you," she said simply and came close enough to put a
hand on his arm.

At her touch, his breath exploded out of him and he clasped her hand to
stare at her. The proud man who had surrounded himself with thick
walls and stubbornness broke the moment the words fully sank in. D'hol
went to his knees in front of her, arms around her waist as he pressed
his brow against her bare breast. He heard and felt her heartbeat,
solid and unwavering against him, then moved to kiss the soft skin.

Hope, that was what she had to give him. Hope that his life could be
far better if he didn't give up and fought for it. Her fingers slid
through his curls and her eyes closed. She said his name softly as her
knees began to buckle. The sensations were every bit as intense as she
remembered. And she did love him, she had never stopped loving him.
Instead, she'd put up walls to keep him out so his love couldn't
consume her with its intensity. She couldn't explain it better than
that. Not even to herself. She gave herself up to him for this night.

He rose then, the whisper of his name drawing him to her. Weaving his
fingers through her hair, he pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was
hungry, but tender, speaking everything that he felt for her in that
moment. "Cy...I love you, woman. Faranth, I love you so shaffing
much." Hands slid over her sides, reacquainting himself with the shape
and feel of her; this was her, really her, not some replacement that
he'd conjured up in his mind. He cupped her bottom, pulling her close
and whispered against her lips. "Tell me again."

"I love you," she said again. "I never stopped loving you."

He did take her to his bed then, helping her to remove his clothing
before he laid her back on his furs. No lights were dimmed; he wanted
to see and experience all of her, every expression, every gesture.
She was beautiful to him, and for once, he let down every emotional
barrier he had carefully constructed between them. He worshiped every
inch of her, whispering love and adoration with each kiss and caress
against her skin. He was consumed by every touch she offered and when
he finally came to her, it felt as though he was coming home after
turns in the darkest mine away from any light. He took his time,
relearning her pleasures, what stirred her and reminding her what
stirred him.

It was as if no time had passed. As if the time so long ago and dimly
remembered, was rekindled afresh like a fresh fire in her belly. She
let it be. Didn't fight or even resist. she let it flow through her
and gave him back the same, measure for measure.

Arms wrapped around her after, D'hol stroked the sweat dampened skin
at the nape of her neck, unwilling to release her. Not yet. He had
waited over ten turns to hold Cyradis just like this, to surround
himself with her again. One hand stroked her spine in the way that he
knew she loved, reveling in the feel of her soft skin under his
fingers even as he pressed a kiss to her brow. His voice was very
soft. "Did you mean it?"

"Yes," she said as softly. "I couldn't bear for you to think I hated
you. I never did you know?"

He gave a deep sigh as though her words soothed an aching wound.
D'hol's hands continued to stroke her, but a free hand tucked under
her chin to pull her head up to look at him. The gaze he gave her was
soft, purely unfiltered gentleness. There was unmistakable love there,
no longer shuttered away or hidden. He stroked the back of his fingers
lightly over her cheek. She was still so beautiful. "I didn't know."
He admitted, and bent his head to brush his mouth over hers yet again.

"Cyradis, can you stay with me? Just for tonight? " They had never
been able to spend an entire night together; she'd always had to leave
to return to N'lon. And he knew that she may have to do the same
again, but just once, if this was his last night to spend with her, he
wanted to rest in her arms, have the chance to wake up to make love to
her again, and simply have her close.

"Yes," she said and returned his kiss then tucked her head under his
chin and closed her eyes. **Wake me when the sun comes up** D'hol had
a long day ahead of him and so did she.

}:I will,:{ Panitath said from the cavern where she tended her eggs.

With Cyradis nestled against him, his arms curled around her in a snug
embrace, D'hol finally slept deeply, content.

Last updated on the April 12th 2019

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The Possibility of Hope (PG-17)