Dragoners Things changed. People and places and time tended to have that effect, and yet it was something for which Riaghan was not accustomed to just accepting. Usually there was something he could say, someone a friend knew who could help him out. Or Rotuth, the beast, could show one of those fangs of his and scare them into agreeing. But how do you react when the woman you wanted to spend your life with told you that she, too, had changed, and maybe it was best they remember the past fondly, but leave it there. In the past. In other words, she had found someone else. Running his hands through the thick blond hair that was growing close to his shoulders again, Riaghan took a deep breath and closed grey-green eyes to the world for only a moment. His heart stuttered in his chest before resuming its usual hearty rhythm, and he paused only long enough to pull on a shirt and change into warmer pants. The air was crisp this high up the mountain, but he needed out. Every since becoming a dragoner all those years ago, Riaghan had all but forgotten his past life, save his family, Aolha, and his running. He still possessed the lean build of a runner, and while his arms were more sculpted than they had once been thanks to the hours of intensive fledgling training, he looked the same he had a decade ago. His feet pounding on the rocky ground and his breath were the only sounds so early, as even the watch dragon saved its morning bugle for the rising of the sun, though its whirling eyes followed him for a moment as he left the flat. Rotuth grumbled something sleepily about early risers before his mind returned to the steady pulses of sleep, so Riaghan was alone with his thoughts. He and Nuadha had joined Brynmor Fleets on a spur-of-the-moment kind of decision. Representatives from the Caer had been at their graduating ceremony, and both were in desperate need of a change of scenery, so when the offer had come to join the Helmut Fleet, they had gladly accepted. And he didn’t regret the decision, merely some of the implications. For example, Brynmor was far from where he had grown up, and he rarely saw his family, though with Rotuth it was always only a flight away. Aolha had been a flight away as well, until she had taken up with some bluerider with an ego to match his massive bearing and impress her green mind. Shaking such upsetting thoughts from his head, he jumped a stream, clambered up the ridge of a sharp drop, and stood, breathing heavily, watching the sun rise slowly over the far distant horizon. He could hear Rajornth’s morning greeting back at the Caer, and the answering bellow of the silver Abirith, and Rotuth stirred again, grumbling about the Caerlady’s dragon and her own early morning habits which included awakening all those who thought to sleep a little later into the day than sunrise. Buck up, lad. It’s not like you have to catch up on missed sleep, he grimaced as he recalled that the Melesio Fleet had been called out late last night to do some cleaning up at the site of an ant attack. Had the attack been occurring, his own fleet would have helped out, but they had not been needed as it was. Th’len, another brown rider, would no doubt regale them all with the tales of their heroism before complaining about Kesava’s rise with the sun attitude. He would smile, though, and laugh, because they were all pleased with the new Caerlady’s up-to-date yet firm hand, not to mention she had a beguiling grin and a sharp wit. It was a shame about Kl’ivor, though. Good man, well matched to and by Kesava, but it was too bad that Rotuth hadn’t been interested in chasing the silver. He jogged back at a more sedate pace, and by the time he reached the Caer, activity was stirring in the Flat and among the many halls. He was still bothered by the empty halls, the new ones that had yet to be filled, yet with every new bonder, every new fledgling, every newly graduated dragoner, the Caer grew less empty and homier. It was still a far way from full, but he looked forward to seeing the halls filled with dragoners, young, old, Alskyrian and not. “Riaghan,” someone called, and he nodded and lifted a hand to whomever it was. Rotuth could be seen sunning on the ledge that overlooked the flat, and Riaghan warned him not to get too comfy. The brown was getting almost lazy, and were it not for the fact Riaghan personally pushed the dragon every day as to how far and fast he could go, he would think the brown did nothing but laze about. A sharp eye opened before that thought went further, and muscles rippled beneath the smooth light brown hide, making Riaghan grin. Rotuth yawned purposely, showing off sharp teeth, and stretched his large wings, dwarfing those of Kambruth, who lounged below him. The bronze was still growing, mind, but Rotuth was huge for a brown, and there was no way Kambruth would catch up, even though he too promised to be a good size. “Now he’d give anyone here a run for their money,” Quacar grinned when Riaghan entered the kitchen, and Riaghan was amused to see only the bachelors were still eating. The single women and the couples were either still abed or already out, and no single woman would eat with this lot of rogues. “Why do you think I’m waiting for someone to fight over?” Riaghan retorted with a dangerous smile, and all those present laughed, knowing that Riaghan and Rotuth couldn’t decide on a flight if their lives depended upon it. For example, Shaeya had signed up Scleanth just a few days earlier, yet Rotuth showed no interest in the fiery pair. The entrance of Lyrae was all the warning they had, and Kesava followed in a bustle of activity and order. The grins and cockiness were turned down a notch, not only because of the parcel in her hands, but because of the frown on her face. Pregnancy had not agreed with their Caerlady, and Keli’i was not making parenthood a walk in the park. The little tyke was adorable, though, with his black curls and piercing green eyes. “I want this delivered to Ryslen, and I want the bearer to keep in mind that Ryslen is always in need of chasers.” Silence greeted her, and her scowl deepened. Offer, Rotuth suddenly demanded, and Riaghan started at the intensity. It is time you and I came to an agreement on something, and I suggest this be it. We could use a short trip, besides, and I have heard things I like about a pair flying. Kesava’s eyes suddenly turned on him, and he knew Rotuth had spoken to Abirith. “Cursed, interfering, fluff-brained lump of...” he was interrupted by a sharp growl from Lyrae and the muffled laughter of the others. “There today, and take some time.” Kesava smiled slyly and motioned him to precede her on her way to the flat. “Rotuth can let us know when you’ll be back, and someone will cover for you.” Grumbling, Riaghan did as bid. ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ “It’s not that I don’t like Ryslen, just that I do like Brynmor, and would prefer to stay home,” Riaghan said with no small amount of feeling. Rotuth merely grunted in reply, his eyes watched the movements of a rather large green female. “What’s with him?” He asked, and Rotuth actually laughed, a deep, bellowing sound that startled Riaghan and confused him verily. He’s a she, Rotuth clarified, and Riaghan was struck with sudden clarity, bursting into laughter and startling more than few people. “Who is she?” Xenarioth, and her rider is Rasa, Rotuth turned an eye on him and growled. Why don’t you politely introduce yourself? Rasa chose that moment to greet her dragon, and Riaghan grinned, feeling a stirring within himself. “I can be polite,” he promised, moving purposefully towards the woman. “And Rotuth? You make sure you sign up us, eh?” Riaghan bonded at the Healing Den