Blue & Bronze, Black & Red | 73.13.28 (Moo/Open)

[Nicole]

So it did bother him, then. The smile grew larger across her face as she moved her way around his leg, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. He was very pointedly not looking at anything except Saphireth's hide.

As he moved under her wing joints, Saphireth nearly jumped into the air, her head sitting up and her wings flailing around a little bit. It feels nice but it tickles staph that. She swung her head and looked at N'kio, pulling away from him slightly. I do not like the tickling feeling.

From her spot near Metanath, Elora grinned. You okay, darling? I can come do it myself if you'd like.
I can train him yet.

Maybe she was rubbing off on her DarkBlue after all, mused Elora turning her attention back to Metanath's leg. For now, she wouldn't comment on N'kio's... comment, but it was worth filing away as something to mock later. "Who said I was an in-land girl? Even the ocean holds have rivers that run through or near them. Nice try, though. Not all of us like spending time with sailors."

Though sailors could be nice, sometimes, and often had coin they were far too eager to spend on drink. And women.

And Elora didn't mind taking a drunk sailor's coin, not at all.

[Moo]

At the sight of the squirming dragon, N’kio chuckled and removed his hands from her wings. “Apologies, love,” he smiled back at her, then returned to work – this time, his hands sought out her forelegs and the curves where they joined her body. He wondered if she was ticklish there, too. “Let me know if anything else feels off to you, Saphireth.”

He could hear Elora’s reply come from somewhere beside Metanath, but he wasn’t looking to find out. “Yeah, but a river’s not an ocean, now is it? You don’t have to be a sailor to know what you’re looking at, and if you said you’ve never been…” At her last comment, he snorted his amusement. “Well then, remind me the next time I see you to not come see you that next time,” he teased. “Metanath and I don’t like spending time with weyrlings, either. Right?”

Metanath lazily slapped his tail on the ground in response. He was enjoying Elora’s handiwork too much to talk. It would require too much effort, and he wanted to relax as much as he could before they had to return to Cliffside.

“Right.” N’kio ran his hands down Saphireth’s legs, applying a slight pressure with his thumbs. He risked a glance at Elora – she seemed to be preoccupied with Metanath. He watched her for another moment or two, and then turned his head back to the small dragon beside him.

“Saphireth, where would you like me to be? Any spot in particular?”

[Nicole]

Elora could feel Saphireth's slight pleasure as N'kio rubbed the oil into her hide, but it was mixed in with her slight discomfort at having a different Rider take care of her. There wasn't enough that Elora was worried about her - new experiences caused worrying; Elora knew that well enough - so she didn't double-check with Saphireth about how she was doing.

"I don't even like hanging out with Weyrlings. But I'm not a normal Weyrling." Elora flashed him a smile, even though he couldn't see it. Her hands dipped down for more oil for Metanath's hide.

You are fine where you are, thank you. Do all Riders-who-are-not-Mine have rough hands like yours?

[Moo]

“Is it because they’re younger than you? Who do you spend your time with here at the Weyr?” He asked out of curiosity, but knew it could sound like nosiness. He hoped she wouldn’t take it that way. “I don’t mind you not being normal.”

Then he heard Saphireth’s prompt, and it took him a moment to respond. “To tell you the truth, I’m not quite sure.” N’kio paused thoughtfully and reapplied more oil, making sure to pay attention to her toes and claws. “I’ve never felt another Rider’s hands – at least, not for a long time – so it’s possible they’re pretty rough. But if you’re talking about sailors, then I can certainly say yes, they are.” He looked at Saphireth when speaking, then finished up with her forelegs.

Feeling satisfied with his progress so far, he let his hands wander across her sides, toward her haunches and back legs. “Mine aren’t even too bad, generally speaking. There isn’t one thing we do at Cliffside that we don’t use our hands for. It’s better rougher, anyway.”

He looked over his shoulder to Elora (and rolled his eyes at the sight that was Metanath), before resuming oiling Saphireth’s thighs. “Why, does Elora have softer hands than mine?” He tried to keep his face neutral, as if he weren’t really interested. “I wouldn’t know.”

[Nicole]

Oh, Mine is very diligent about her skin. She oils herself as often as she oils me. Her and I are both soft. Saphireth answered proudly, swishing her tail back and forth. If her Mine took pride in her soft skin, so would she.

Though it wasn't exactly private knowledge that Elora kept her skin soft, it wasn't something that was talked about on a daily basis. But she squashed the sliver of discomfort that worked its way up her back, acknowledging that it was a regular part of the conversation.

Besides, it got them off the topic of who Elora spent her time with.

Which was Saphireth. And... Saphireth. Sometimes the short-haired black girl, the older Weyrling - Evaine, she thought her name was - would say hi to her. But she said hi to nearly everybody. And the people she had to interact with at her Lessons didn't count.

For a social creature, Elora spent an awful lot of time alone.

Perhaps that's why I miss N'kio when he's gone.
Are you admitting you actually miss him now? Saphireth answered her Rider's absentminded thoughts, amusement flashing through her mind.
Oh, shut up.

"Rough hands on men are infinitely more attractive than on women. At least in my opinion." Elora shrugged, swinging herself around Metanath's leg to get at the other side. "I like being soft."

[Moo]

Now the conversation was getting interesting.

“She does, does she?” N’kio smiled; partly from Saphireth’s enthusiasm and partly from the mental image that information gave him. She oils herself as often as she oils me. Her and I are both soft. Oh yes, he would have much to think about back at work. But for now, he nodded, and let the topic drift away. “How about that,” he murmured.

Metanath, conscious enough to know where Elora was, shifted around so she could gain easier access to whatever she was going to do next. He wasn’t about to get in the way of her plans, and frankly, he didn’t care what it did to N’kio. If he didn’t like it, well, he wasn’t about to have his own time spoiled by his jumpy Rider.

Using his knuckles as a tool, with one hand he began to knead the strong muscle in Saphireth’s thigh, his other hand against her inner thigh for balance. “I will accept that as a compliment, thank you,” N’kio said over his shoulder, tossing Elora a cocky grin.

“I like softer hands on a woman, myself, and I’m not just saying that because you’re here. It, ahhh….feels nicer.” He felt as if he was walking into a trap with what he was saying, but he was too far in already to go back out.

“They feel nicer than rough hands, I mean.”

Definitely maybe could be a trap.

[Nicole]

How was it that he could always make her grin? Not smile, not smirk, but that grin that spread across her face like a cat that had found a jar of milk all to itself.

"And what would she be doing that she would need soft hands? Certainly not working, I suppose." She worked her way up Metanath's leg, palms pressing into his legs and rubbing in small circular motions.

Saphireth repositioned herself to allow better access for N'kio, but her own enjoyment of the oiling induced more of a slight paranoia that she shouldn't be enjoying it. N'kio was not hers. He was merely doing a job, and she should not enjoy it, for who could do a better job than her Mine?

But, for what it was, it was... nice.

Saphireth just couldn't let herself enjoy it. For that, she envied Metanath's ability to relax. Perhaps it came with age.

He was awfully old, after all.

[Moo]

“Well, that depends…depends on…” He stumbled over the sentence as a shiver coursed through him, raising the hairs on his arms. The enjoyment he felt radiating from his dragon was proving to be a terrible distraction. In a lot of ways, the strong bond they shared worked like one during a Flight – they were able to feel what the other was feeling, think what the other was thinking, as if it were something of their own. They had to be able to, in order to instantly act on split-second decisions while out on Watch.

From Metanath, he could tell where her hands were on his hide, how they were moving on his leg and pressing and sliding from the oil…N’kio took a breath. It was either the best thing ever or the worst thing ever. Or both. He couldn’t decide. His mind was fuzzy.

“Mmm…It depends on your definition of working,” he finally said, and was glad to be rid of the sentence. The oil trickled down Saphireth’s thigh as he continued to rub her leg, massaging the oil into the tense muscles in her calf, all the while thinking, If Elora moves any higher, I don’t know if I’d even be able to keep up conversation.

Metanath’s eye opened into a small slit of green. Elora, I like that, he said, half in teasing and all in truth. It did feel very, very good, and he planned on enjoying it as much as he could. That didn’t mean he couldn’t make a fool of his Rider before they left. The rest of the crew would be wondering what N’kio had gotten up to, anyway. Might as well have a story to go along with it.

[Nicole]

Elora's definition of working definitely involved a need for soft hands. And for those soft hands to touch things.

Of course, that wasn't how most people defined working as actually working, so Elora made the sarcastic thought in her head that he was talking about work-that-wasn't-actually work. She slid her hands up Metanath's leg.

I'm glad you like it, Metanath. If you want anyplace else rubbed, you let me know, alright? She kneaded his muscles as a baker would bread, making sure to get every inch available. He didn't need his leg acting up while he was on duty.

Admitting you miss N'kio and now worrying about Metanath on duty? Saphireth's voice twirled through Elora's head as the DarkBlue shifted under N'kio's hands, slowly lowering her head onto her front claws. She seemed mostly relaxed with just a twinge of anxiousness. You sound - what was the word you used the other day? About that girl?

Domestic? I am not domestic. Far from it. Elora snorted slightly, rubbing deep into Metanath's leg. He's just a good dragon, that's all.

You cannot fool me, Elora. I am Yours and you are Mine. I know you. Saphireth closed her eyes and said no more.

So Elora turned her attention back to N'kio.

"Okay, then. Define work."

[Moo]

He was pleased that Saphireth appeared to enjoy this more, so he made sure to keep from deviating. It was just about the only thing he could focus on right now, which was just fine with him. When it was clear she had moved further up Metanath’s leg, he bit his lip to keep from making a sound. He didn’t trust himself to talk right now – preferring to avoid as much embarrassment as possible – and instead, cleared his throat and slid his hands down and over Saphireth’s feet, reapplying oil whenever he came across a dry patch of hide.

Taking his cue from N’kio’s silence, Metanath turned his head so he could glance at Elora every so often. Oh, thank you, though… He peered over at his Rider, not needing to probe into his mind to know what he was thinking of. He decided to go with it. I do not think you should be asking me that question. The Black dragon snorted with amusement. He does try his best, though. When she dug deeper into his muscle, Metanath groaned and his leg jerked involuntarily, his tail snaking in the grass.

Sorry about that. He wasn’t sure if he moved her or not. It hurts but it feels good.

[Nicole]

Elora was swept back with the movement of Metanath's leg, quickly rebalancing herself and moving forward to continue. She answered the second half of his comments aloud. "Not a problem, Metanath. If it hurts too much, you let me know."

The first comments, well, those needed to be answered more privately. Does he always get like this? Though it wouldn't be if he was the one oiling you, and... do other people besides me and N'kio take care of you, Metanath? She tilted her head to the side thoughtfully, one eye on N'kio. Or, rather, do you think it would be different if it were anybody besides me? I don't mean to pry. I'm just curious.

Saphireth cracked open an eye and looked at Elora for a moment as oil rolled down her leg - such a waste! - before shutting it again. For the moment, she was content.

"You didn't answer my question, sailor. Something got your tongue?"

[Moo]

No, it is only the two of you who do this, said Metanath, who was watching Elora, who now appeared to be watching N’kio. You are not prying, so I will tell you. First, yes, this does happen – though this, now, is much more enjoyable. We have worked hard at making sure to know what the other is thinking or feeling, at the exact moment it is happening. Is is necessary for our work. If one of us gets hurt in some way, the other will register what happened and understand the same pain.

He shifted his neck around and adjusted his head on his foreleg. When he was with someone, I felt it as well, but only a small amount. It is the opposite with me. If I enjoy something, he feels the same, only a much bigger amount. After a minute or two of considering her final question, Metanath spoke. If he liked anyone else as much, then no, it would not be too different. But I also have input on how much I like it, he hummed and lifted his head, and that is why he likes it so much as well.

In the brief moment that Metanath startled, N’kio regained more of his composure. Well, that was never going to happen again, he promised himself. Once he heard Elora’s second prompt, he couldn’t help but smirk, “What, miss the sound of my voice?”

When in doubt, sarcasm.

“Defining work…Well, it’s nothing I could say in front of Saphireth.”

[Nicole]

Elora began counting and only got to three before Saphireth's head popped up. The DarkBlue swung her head to the side to look at N'kio.

Elora knew that her thought process on certain physical activities was a lot different than that of most Riders. To them, it was still a mostly private business. To her - well, her past was private, but the actions themselves weren't anything to be ashamed of. So while other dragons learned quickly not to think of such things...

If you are talking about sex, as your innuendo implies, I know very well what that is, thank you very much. And if you are not, I cannot think of another topic that cannot be discussed in front of me.

Elora was too amused by the prim and proper way her dragon replied about such a topic to even think about pretending to be embarrassed. Instead, she just grinned and refocused her work on Metanath. N'kio could answer Saphireth.

His comments from before did need some further questions. What do you mean by 'if he liked anyone else as much?' It is you I am massaging.

[Moo]

The surprise he felt at Saphireth’s reply was greater than his embarrassment, so much so that he had to stop what he was doing to register her response. “Well now,” he laughed, unable to help himself. It was such a formal response for such a young dragon.

“My apologies, Saphireth. I couldn’t be sure if you knew or not.” He tried to look as sincere as a surprised person could, but wasn’t sure if it was working or not. “But since you are aware, as you’ve so nicely explained…” N’kio looked to Elora, “Then yes, I was talking about sex, as well as any and everything that happens in between.”

He resumed rubbing the oil into her hide, moving along her hindquarters to the length of her tail. For some reason, he felt a bit…well, a bit strange talking about sex with Elora. With anyone else, there was no problem, but now…

Metanath gurgled at Saphireth’s reply. That certainly put N’kio in his place. He would have said something to her – a compliment perhaps – were it not for the other questions he received first from Elora. The answer, in his mind, was quite simple.

He wouldn’t let just anyone do this, you know.

[Nicole]

Saphireth resisted the urge to flick him on the nose with her tail for emphasis. It may have been funny, but she wasn't quite precise yet, and taking out a Rider's eye seemed like a bad idea.

I'm getting on your back. She gave Metanath a half-second warning before swinging herself up, lodging herself at a slightly awkward angle to finish the top of his leg.

Metanath's comment bounced around her mind for a moment as Elora tried to make sense of it. Riders were always protective of their dragons, and dragons their Riders; such was the way of the world. But surely this wasn't so unusual? She'd seen Riders oiling dragons that weren't their own.

Of course, they were either best friends or Weyrmates, and her and N'kio were neither. She wanted Saphireth to be comfortable with other Riders, which was why she hadn't minded that N'kio was oiling her. Right?

He barely knows me, though, Metanath.