You Could Never Be Satisfied

Writers: Aaron, Duskdog
Date Posted: 27th March 2026

Characters: Chandrany, Ç'pier
Description: Chandrany has trouble dealing with Ç'pier’s relationship with V’tian
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 1, day 9 of Turn 13
Notes: Mentioned: V’tian

Chandrany

Ç'pier

There were pros and cons to waiting to bring up difficult topics until after the sex.

Men, Chandrany had decided, were more compliant then. More likely to cuddle, maybe, or at least more likely not to resist if _she_ cuddled. It wasn’t true of all of them, of course, but true enough of most of those she’d been with.

More importantly, though, they never seemed as guarded. And they were -- maybe -- more likely to listen to her, to give her the benefit of the doubt. Or at least _pretend_ to listen to her. (She didn’t really want to know which it was. It was better if they let her believe what she wanted to believe. So long as she didn’t know, it didn’t matter.)

On the other hand, though… it was harder for _her_ to be mad about anything she might have been mad about before, too. It was easy to just… pretend nothing was wrong. It was easy to just decide that whatever had been bothering her before wasn’t really that important. Maybe it _was_ just in her head, as she had often been told in her life. Everything that mattered before seemed a lot smaller. A lot softer. She felt better about it. How could anything be wrong when she felt satisfied, good-tired, as happy as this? How could anything be wrong when things could just… flow over and around her, like she was floating in a clean, gently-flowing stream with spring blossoms drifting lightly overhead and not a care in the world?

That little prickle at the back of her mind wouldn’t quite let her drift away, however.

She lay with her head pillowed against Ç'pier’s chest, fingers tracing lazy circles on it, wishing she could just fall asleep that way. But instead her brain insisted on poking at her just enough to be worrying, like a tiny pebble in her shoe.

Finally, without looking at him or moving, still tracing idle circles, she said, as casually as she could manage, “So. Yuliuth really likes Indith, doesn’t he?”

“He sure does,” Ç’pier half-sighed, half-chuckled. But even the afterglow of sex could not keep him from wondering why Chandrany would be concerned with such a thing for too long. He could see how the topic might be on her mind, considering the inevitable sex that came with winning a mating flight, but it seemed an odd thing to bring up _mostly_ out of the blue.

“Does that bother you?”

She considered that seriously for a moment. “Hrmm,” she said finally. “Not exactly. It’s kind of cute, actually. It’s like Yuliuth has a little girlfriend.” She paused. “V’tian _has_ been around an awful lot, though. They don’t usually rise _that_ often.”

“He's taken a liking to calling me over whenever he's feeling randy,” said Ç’pier. “I think at first he expected me to spoil him. Buy him little trinkets or flowers or something.” He chuckled as though that were ridiculous. “But we figured it out.”

Her hand froze mid-motion, her body tensing immediately, though she still didn’t lift her head to look at him. “...so it’s not just Yuliuth and Indith. He likes you, too. If he’s expecting gifts, I mean.” Another pause, this one a little longer. “Do you like _him_?”

“We’re friends.” At Saedyna’s insistence. Ashes, why did everyone keep asking him that?

Ç’pier turned on his side to look at Chandrany. She seemed to be taking this rather… Chandranily. He stroked her hair gently and kissed her forehead.

“He’s not going to take me away from you.”

She leaned into the affection despite herself. V’tian wasn’t the one here being held, she told herself. He wasn’t getting gifts. She wasn’t, either… but at least he wasn’t. “That doesn’t sound like friends. He and I are _friends_. Or at least we _were_. Does he not know that we’re together? Or does he just not care?”

“We haven’t talked about you and me having sex, no,” said Ç’pier. “But he didn’t ask who else I’ve been bedding. You could try to slip into his furs, but I don’t think you’re his type.”

“Well, he’s not _my_ type, either,” she said, because she wasn’t feeling particularly charitable towards V’tian right now. She’d once had the thought that he was cute… but that had been the day they’d met, and she hadn’t really thought about him in that way again since, so she wasn’t necessarily lying. “And I don’t need him, anyway. I thought I had _you_. Do I not?”

“Here I am, aren’t I?” Ç’pier pointed out. “And I’m more than happy to keep giving you what you need.”

She pulled back from him, no longer quite so soothed by the contact, and looked at him. “What about what _you_ need? Is that it? Is it not… am I not enough? Because you know I’m around. I’m always around. I can _be_ around, whenever you want. He can’t do anything for you that I can’t do.”

“Ah. I see.” Ç’pier reached out to take Chandrany’s hand. “You are more than enough just as you are. But it’s not for you to be everything to _me_. I love being with you. I’d love to be with you any time you want me. But I’m not looking to keep myself all to any one person, or place, or anything-- and I’m not asking you to do that for me, either.”

Oh no. Oh no, there it was. Her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. And it was _stupid_ -- she knew it was stupid the moment she felt it. She hadn’t gone into this looking for a one-and-only… (had she?)... and she couldn’t quite recall when that changed. (Had it changed or was it always?) She’d just wanted a friend after she lost her friend. (Or maybe not just a friend -- maybe being _wanted_ physically was something, too. Proof of… something? It sounded silly now that she was conscious of it.)

Having more than one lover was perfectly natural. Most of the people she knew -- had ever known -- did. She was weyrbred, herself. She could remember thinking -- even laughing with friends -- about some of the attitudes the holdbred came in with. How stifling it all seemed, for no reason at all. How she’d said she couldn’t imagine being tied down to one man, one place, one life, like those hold women were. How it seemed an awful lot like being _owned_, which was… disgusting.

And all of that still felt true.

Yet somehow, so did _this_: sharing meant that she wasn’t _enough_. Sharing meant that he had already realized that. Sharing meant that it was only a matter of time before he realized the portion of him that still belonged to her now would probably be better off with someone else, too.

He already had one foot out the door.

She sat up and turned away from him, sitting on the side of the bed, fumbling for her clothes, trying not to make it seem like she was rushing. “Okay. Okay. That’s… okay.”

It was not okay. She didn’t know what to feel. She didn’t know what to do. Slap him? Tell him off? For what? For being… normal?

…Beg him?

Her pride wouldn’t let her, and the fact that she even wanted to disgusted her. But part of her did. Part of her wanted to tell him she would do whatever he wanted, if it just meant that she’d be _enough_.

“It sounds like it’s not,” said Ç’pier. He stood and joined her in getting dressed, but he took his time. “I don’t want you to run away from me.” For all she was worried about not being enough… Well, he certainly would not have anywhere near as much as he did if he did not have her at all. He was not above a little light begging, anyway.

“I don’t want you to leave.”

“I’m not leaving,” she said, a little too quickly. “I’m just… you know. I have somewhere to be that I forgot about. And anyway, it’s... Well, it’s fine. I mean, it would be silly for me to expect you to have only one person. It’s not like we’re weyrmates or anything… I guess I just thought--”

She stopped. Better if she didn’t give voice to what she thought. It would just sound even stupider, and worse, she would cry. She didn’t want to cry over this.

“Chandrany, you are special to me,” said Ç’pier. “And I won't ask you to change who you are for my sake.” Perhaps she thought she would be the only one willing to bed him after what he had done.

“Is _he_ special to you, too?”

She hadn’t meant to ask that, but it came out anyway. Not because she didn’t want to know, but because she was afraid of the answer.

“Am I special to _you_?” Ç’pier countered. He had in mind to go off on an entire speech about how he held people who would never even give him the time of day to be special to him, but she would not care about them. Because they were not having sex with him.

“What? _Yes!_” It was a perfectly valid question, but she still looked at him as if he’d grown a third head. “Of course you are! Isn’t it obvious? Have I not shown you? Have I not …Did I mess this up…?”

“This isn't messed up,” Ç’pier insisted first. But then he said, “Am I the one and only person in your entire life who is in _any_ way special to you? That's a lot of pressure to put on someone you love.”

Ach. He should not have said that word.

Love? Did she love him? She wasn’t prepared for that word, and didn’t know how to respond to it -- not just out loud, to him, but in her own head, to herself.

Of course it was love, wasn’t it? There were one night stands and casual flings, but what do you call it when you keep coming back? When you stay when they’ll let you -- and know you’ll come back again in an instant if they call?

“Are you trying to say that having two lovers who are both special is the same as having a friend who’s also special? A mother who’s special? Because that doesn’t sound right at all. It’s _different_. Isn’t it supposed to be different?”

“Would you limit yourself to one special friend? One special sibling? One special parent?” There had to be something everyone would agree on… “One special _child_?”

Faranth beyond, she had better not expect he wanted a child.

Chandrany’s mouth opened with an immediate retort, but then closed again before she could get out whatever words had been on the tip of her tongue. There was a moment where her face, her eyes, revealed a procession of thought that was probably neither linear nor particularly controlled. “That’s… that’s _different_,” she insisted, when the thoughts had done their rounds and (mostly) found their way back home. “A child doesn’t just stop being your child just because you decide you like one better. But people drop one lover for another all the time. If you find someone better, someone you love more…”

She spread her hands helplessly.

“How can I set your heart at ease?” Ç’pier went to wrap his arms around her. “I want you. I need you. I am not going to find someone better. There's no one better to find.”

She didn’t want to let him. She wanted to stay angry, even though she also _didn’t_ want to stay angry. Which was easier? Which hurt less? Was this a moment when she needed to stand up for herself, a moment when she’d be a doormat if she didn’t? Or was this a moment when she was being selfish, when she was actually pushing him away by being over-dramatic?

She didn’t shove him away, but she did step away, out of his attempted embrace. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I’m afraid you can’t promise that, even if you really, truly want to. How can you know how you’ll feel in a few sevendays? I just… I need to think. I need time to think.”

“Take all the time you need,” said Ç’pier. “I’ll be here.”

She didn’t trust herself to say anything else as she left, trying not to walk so fast that it looked like a retreat.

Last updated on the April 26th 2026

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You Could Never Be Satisfied