Questions (2/2)

Writers: Iluva, Steel
Date Posted: 19th August 2026

Characters: R'zen, X'rion
Description: R'zen seeks answers from another rider
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 5, day 12 of Turn 13
Notes: Follows ‘Loser Gets Dessert’

X'rion tapped a fingernail against his mug, a knowingness growing in his smile, though he waited to see if there was an actual question coming, or anything else. It was there in the words all the same. He stared through the steam streaming up toward the stone ceiling as he took a sip of klah, still smiling. “I did,” he agreed. “You are.”

R'zen opened his mouth. Closed it.

He opted, instead, to glare into his mug of klah, and took a long sip to try and gather his thoughts.

Why did it _matter_ what this random rider thought? Why had X'rion complimented him when he had no idea who R'zen was?

How was he supposed to proceed, when the words had felt stuck to his skin, skittering around like invisible small spinners? Sure, the Weyrbred did stuff differently, but…

He realized he'd been glaring at his mug for far too long. R'zen's head snapped up, transferring his gaze back to X'rion, dark eyes narrowed and sparking. “You're cute too.” He not quite retorted.

X'rion was on the counter with half his klah gone. He'd hopped up during R'zen's reverie and slid back, letting his bare feet dangle, swirling in loose concentric circles while he watched unvoiced thoughts do the same to R'zen's face. It was an odd sight, like frantic fish trapped in a tiny pond. But oddly fascinating, too.

It occurred to him then that this was probably the first time the other rider had admitted something like that out loud, maybe to anyone. “Does that… bother you?” He asked slowly.

“If it did, why would I be _here_?” R'zen countered, before he took a slow breath. “I'm…” he started, then paused again.

Why was he hesitant? Why did this even _matter_ so much? He wasn't some stupid Holdbrat. **Never** again!!!

He had Ibranth, and Ibranth had him, and that would _never_ change. And neither of them would run from a challenge!

“No.” He answered, decided and committed all at once. R'zen lifted his chin, dark eyes flickering over X'rion as he tipped his head just slightly to the side and smirked. “I _am_ awesome. Nice of you to notice.”

X'rion made an incredulous face. “You can have more than one feeling at a time. But… Good.” He tilted his head a little in the same direction, smiling again. “You're a very strange person, you know. So what is it you came here to ask?”

“I'm not _strange_!” R'zen huffed, a little stung. His gaze slid away from X'rion once more, returned to his klah.

Faranth, had he misjudged again somehow? That couldn't be right! Except… he and Ibranth had messed up once before when they'd thought they were right. Ibranth didn't remember, but _he_ did. What could he say? What was he supposed to do?

… No. He _wasn't_ like this.

“... Do you like me?”

“Yeah.” That answer came simply, easily. “What's not to like? I mean, I don't really know you that well, but I've been enjoying the preview.” Under the ease, X'rion felt his face heat in a way that confused him a little, when a look and a nod between weyrbreds were often sufficient to express interest, but somehow words seemed to be falling short now.

R'zen just looked at him, and took another long drink of his klah.

“I didn't mean ‘strange’ in a bad way, either,” X'rion clarified. “Interesting’s a better word.” He took his time studying R'zen's expression as he set the mug down. “Do you like me? I think you might, a little. Am I wrong?”

“.... What happens if I say yeah?” R'zen responded, and drained the last of his klah before setting it aside, gaze returning to X'rion intently. “If I like you back?”

X'rion's mind sifted through a number of responses, some honest and some honestly frustrating, silly even: I feel good about myself. I kick you out and never want to see you again. We have more klah. I make another stupid face or joke. I call you strange again. I could offer to show you what happens. We never speak of this again. I look smug for a while. I say nothing at all and let you decide.

“Well…” X'rion said at last, leaning forward just as intently, resting a hand on his knee as his foot swung a little. “What would you like to happen?”

“I don't _know_.” R'zen responded, dark eyes flashing and head turned in that particular way. “_You're_ the Weyr guy.”

Except the skittering spinner feeling hadn’t gone away, and R'zen made a face. “... I guess you could call me strange again. If you _had_ to.”

“Nah,” X’rion smiled. “Once is enough for today.” He slid back down from the counter with a nimble thump and padded over, hand extending in offer towards the bluerider’s mug. “Nothing needs to happen, R’zen. There’s no pressure. If it helps, though, I _could_ call you cute again. More klah?”

R'zen huffed at him, mental equilibrium finally returned. “.... You could do that.” He allowed, after only a moment of internal debate. “Just not around my _class_.”

He held out his mug in answer, gave a nod. “... Yeah.”

“Deal.” The brownrider looped back to the kitchen and after handing R'zen his mug nodded for him to follow him, drifting out to the living area to fold onto the couch. His shaggy hair was mostly dry and he shoved his hands through it a few times, the wild disarray taming almost instantly into neater, softer waves.

“They are being very quiet out there,” he noted with an apprehensive look through the stone wall, like it might jinx something. “I… think Ang is asleep actually.”

“Ibranth says this couch is warmer.” R'zen passed along. “But that might just be because both of them are crammed in there, honestly.” He hesitated, again, but only for a moment before he too crossed to the couch and sat.

This was fine. Everything was fine.

For X'rion, at least, everything was. “Ang doesn't like to admit it, but he's a cuddler. He might be there a while. Your Ibranth's pretty cute, too.” He all but melted into the support of the cushions with a soft sigh. A long arm draped along the back of the couch, the lower half of a threadscore scar coming into view. “So, is this your first time living on your own?”

“Ibranth’s awesome.” R'zen boasted, and not for the first time. “He's already _huge_ for a blue. The biggest in my class.”

He paused, and then huffed. “.... Yeah, actually.” He allowed, and made another face. “Before the Weyr, I was stuck at home.”

“Do you miss it at all?” X'rion asked.

“No _way_.” R'zen responded, and let himself relax by inches onto the sofa, slowly. “The Hold was boring. And my da wanted me to follow him and be a Healer.”

“A Healer?” X'rion hadn't meant to sound so surprised as he looked R'zen up and down. But since he was, he did let his eyes wander a little more than the bluerider was probably used to, purposeful, curious. There was no crime in looking, in admiring. If R’zen watched him in return, he’d see that curiosity flicker a little into something else. “I guess I wouldn't mind being revived by you after Threadfall.” His gaze fell away as he reached for his mug. “But I think it’ll be more fun to fly it together.”

R'zen snorted. “I was terrible at it.” He responded, before X'rion's gaze caught his own and realization belatedly dawned.

Oh.

_Oh_.

His face flushed redder, even as he held the brownrider's gaze, tilted his head just slightly and angled his chin. **Oh yeah?**

“Flying is awesome.” He responded when X'rion looked away. “Next time our dragons race it should be with us on their backs.”

X'rion sat back, his lips curving with a slow, unhurried smile. “Yeah.”

Last updated on the October 28th 2026

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Questions (2/2)