From: Anna Korra'ti
To: 'Amanda Marlowe'; westhome@milton.u.washington.edu; 'Laura Hayes Burchard'
; 'Tara Lynch'; 'Carolyn Duke'
Subject: A Very Good Way to Embarrass a Bronzerider *LONG*
Date: Thursday, December 10, 1992 12:23

Here it is, folks. Feel free to distribute to whomever you like, but
I want to know where it goes, so I can keep track of exactly how far
the rumors and songs and stories of our young bronzerider get. :-)
And suggest any corrections or embellishments you like. :-)

Cheers,
Anna/Rill/F'hlan

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PART I -- Our Hero, Heroines, and Setting

	Spotlight, if you will, upon F'hlan, bronze Tzornth's rider,
and young leader of Benden Weyr's fighting wing Thunderbolt. Just
past twenty Turns of age, F'hlan has made something of a name in his
Weyr, for being surprisingly shy-natured for a man who rides a
bronze. He is quiet and responsible, and takes his duties as a rider
and wingleader very seriously.... and seems almost entirely unaware
of the effect his lean, soulful handsomeness has on sweet young
Crafter girls. And, for that matter, a number of female riders.
	Swing the spotlight out onto the Dragon Beach near Tillek
Hold, where F'hlan spent many a Turn as a lad, when fostered to that
Hold. And where two riders of Benden have been (well, not at all
forcibly) shanghaied by their dragons: Elisa, Benden Weyrwoman and
gold Arlianth's rider, and Thryla, rider of brown Monareth, former
fellow weyrling of our hero, and who spent a Turn and a half
observing the variety of ways in which to make our young bronzerider
blush. Add to the scene much wine, and note that the spirits of Elisa
and Thryla are high and merry, for their dragons are having a
wonderful time, and they, for once, have successfully escaped the
duties of the Weyr.
	Enter F'hlan, (well, *almost* forcibly) brought here by his
dragon to relax and recover from a recent illness, and the rising of
his green firelizard. The winged creatures who look to our hero,
being eminently more sensible than he is, have coaxed and cajoled him
into coming here, egged on by F'hlan's devoted weyrmate Melora,
Benden's Weyrharper. Note that the mood of F'hlan is rather cheerful,
if distracted, for he is anxious to make up for time lost during his
illness, and catch up on his duties. Thread's going to be falling
soon, you know.
	Add to the grouping assorted firelizards: Elisa's green
Katie, who has a clutch hardening in a mound on the sands, F'hlan's
own bronze Sioll and the infinitely adorable green Aeyri, brown
Featherstone who looks to Melora, and random other firelizards of
Benden who pop in and out to see what the people from their homeplace
are doing.

PART II -- This Here is a Beach, F'hlan, Relax!

	Tzornth is cheerfully greeted by his brother Monareth, even
as Arlianth is cheerfully twining necks with her brown companion and
warbling << Mine! >> Elisa and Thryla are quite pleased to see
Benden's youngest bronzerider; the Weyrwoman recommends sampling the
wine on hand, but F'hlan, being the sober young fellow he is,
declines politely. Occasional passers-by wander through, and F'hlan
plays his reed flute. There is small talk made: isn't this beach a
nice change from the cold of Benden? The weyrlings are flying well,
don't you think? Which ones are you eyeing for your wing, F'hlan?
	This talk of weyrlings, however, inevitably pulls the
thoughts of our hero back to the duties he is feeling quite guilty
about not doing. Attempting to work in one or more of the Benden
weyrlings to his wing's standard practice formations, he sketches
idle diagrams of dragons in the sand, and begins to exasperate his
dragon....
	Tzornth appeals to Arlianth and Monareth. << I need help
here! >> Benden's senior gold promptly sweeps a claw across F'hlan's
sketches, startling him. As he blinks confusedly up at Arlianth, who
peers unruffedly back at the sillyhardworkingbronzerider, Elisa takes
the opportunity to dump large handfuls of sand down the back of our
hero's riding jacket.
	This is *not* an action to which F'hlan is accustomed, and he
leaps perplexedly to his feet as Elisa tells him sweetly that she
will continue to dump sand on him until he takes off his hot wherhide
jacket. Rather sheepishly and puzzledly, F'hlan obeys. The tunic he
is wearing beneath the jacket is rumpled now, and embarrassedly, he
tries to smooth it while Sioll and Aeyri and Featherstone curl up
comfortably on the discarded jacket.

PART III -- CLOTHES: Dumping. The F'hlan Will Freeze For a Few Minutes.

	Gleefully, airily, Elisa tells him, "Aw, just shuck it off, dear... "
	This definitely qualifies as a way to embarrass F'hlan, and
he blushes a mild pink. It is apparent to him, though, that he won't
get the sand out of his shirt without complying. So he does, making
Thryla's attention perk up, and making his Weyrwoman wolf-whistle. He
succeeds in shaking the sand free from his shirt, and rather
distractedly puts it back on and attempts to return to his
contemplation of wing formations. He is not helped much by Thryla's
vocal contemplations of much smaller rider formations, without
dragons.
	Exasperated by the young man's failure to realize that their
location was a beach and that he ought to be relaxing on it, Elisa,
with a wicked grin, murmurs, "Water?" to Tzornth. The bronze dragon's
eyes whirl merrily; F'hlan, sensing that something is amiss when he
sees Elisa's expression, tries to scurry back to his feet. It is too
late, though. Tzornth, showing amazing manual dexterity for a dragon,
catches a claw on his rider's trousers and lightly tosses him into
the nearby surf.
	Arlianth trumpets approvingly and high-fives the young
bronze, or at least does the dragon equivalent with a wing. Very
startled, very embarrassed, and very wet, F'hlan clambers back out of
the water and up to the beach, to the immense appreciation of his two
fellow riders as Thryla observes the way his soaked clothes are
clinging to him, and Elisa scrutinizes the way the water beads across
his half-bare chest.
	The observing firelizards are chittergiggling with profound
amusement, and by this time have begun calling in some friends. Green
Peaseblossom arrives, as well as blue Nescor and brown Magus.
	Thryla merrily inquires of Elisa whether she might be
promoted to Weyrsecond on the spot, so that she can order F'hlan out
of his clothes, because the health of Benden's wingleaders is
important of course and F'hlan certainly should *not* be getting
sick. Elisa agrees wholeheartedly and firmly squelches the notion of
F'hlan flying back to Benden for dry clothes, since he certainly
cannot go *between* drenched. F'hlan sheepishly and unconvincingly
denies having had the thought cross his mind, and instead attempts to
escape off to the Hold, thinking his foster sister Rillawy's brothers
might have some clothes he could wear.
	Ah, but Elisa and Thryla are not in the least ready to let
him go yet. Showing dexterity equally amazing as Tzornth's, as she is
eight and a half months pregnant, Elisa promptly intercepts F'hlan
before he can stumble off more than a few steps. Thryla gleefully
grabs his other arm, and the two bodily sit him back down on the
sands, because he should get warm and dry off and relax! And his
clothes would dry much faster if he took them off and put them on a
rock, Thryla adds, while Elisa briskly removes F'hlan's wet green
tunic.
	The young man is blushing more brightly now, but is still
calm enough to be coaxed into kicking off his boots. This calmness
lasts, however, only until Thryla eagerly reaches for F'hlan's
breeches, at which point he goes scarlet and tries to grab for his
flying jacket. Monareth's rider snorts and sighs and fetches the
jacket for him - dislodging Sioll and Aeyri and Featherstone, who
chirp disappointedly, but only briefly - so that F'hlan's modesty
won't be *too* compromised when his trousers come off. Thryla
efficiently ties the flying jacket round his slim middle, though this
doesn't comfort him any more than Elisa's smooth assurances that the
bronzerider has nothing she and Thryla have not seen before.
	Blue Nescor observes to the other firelizards that he
believes he has figured out the situation: it must be a mating
flight, though he can't figure out why two female humans are trying
to fly one male, nor could he pinpoint which of the females was
winning. Picking up a hint of this from the massively amused Tzornth,
F'hlan, mortified, flatly denies any such thing, since he is *not* a
firelizard and *not* being flown and *not* proddy! The firelizards
think they need proof, though, and Katie and Peaseblossom circle
round him, looking for a tail. Tzornth innocently interjects that
F'hlan *does* have a tail, he's seen it.
	By now frisky green Peaseblossom thinks this is a very fun
game, so she flits over to F'hlan, tugtugging on the end of his
breeches leg, and occasionally whirling merrily around his head. Our
hero hastily tries to shoo off the green, but she is joined by Katie,
who inquisitively tries to peek under the flying jacket as the
trousers come free, looking for F'hlan's alledged tail, her own
brushing across F'hlan's wet, bare thigh. The two greens are egged on
by F'hlan's Aeyri, who continually trills about her
nicesweetwonderfulhandsomehuman.
	Yelping, our hapless young hero struggles to shoo off both
greens and situate the jacket more securely around him. This doesn't
work very well, though, as Katie immediately fathoms that this must
be her favorite game, tug-of-war! Cheeping excitedly, she pullpulls
at the knotted sleeves of the jacket, making F'hlan even more
mortified, and Elisa and Thryla even more gleeful.
	At this point, Thunderbolt's wingleader pulls a small shred
of strategic thinking from the back of his mind, and hits upon a plan
of retreat. Agile as a young runnerbeast, and as fast as a panicked
one, he scurries backwards across the sands, leaps to his bare feet,
and sprints off into the water, the jacket still tied around him. He
will swim down the beach a little ways, he thinks in a rush to
himself, and circle back around to the Hold.
	Those left on the beach have other ideas, though. Thryla
yells scoldings, for now all of F'hlan's clothes are wet, and Elisa
quickly orders Arlianth after the fleeing youth. The big gold swoops
out over the water, and deftly scoops F'hlan up with her tail,
preventing him from making it any more than several dragonlengths out
from the shore.
	F'hlan by now is desperate enough to consider bribing
Benden's senior queen to take him to Tillek, despite Thryla's
insistence that golds can't be bribed easily. Undaunted, F'hlan
tries, but Arlianth, unfortunately, is bribable only by
chocolate-covered wherries, and there's not a single one in sight.
F'hlan fervently promises to personally hunt wherries for the gold
dragon, but to no avail. That course failed, our wet and therefore
very slippery hero tries a repeat of Plan A, and attempts to wriggle
free of Arlianth's tail.
	Elisa's dragon immediately whips round with her huge front
paws, caging the rider neatly between her claws. Caught, stunned,
F'hlan wilts in her grasp, while Arlianth sits back on her haunches
and wonders what to do with her catch. Weyrwoman Elisa happily
summons her back to the beach, giggling.
	Katie promptly flutters up to perch on Arlianth's claws,
peers down, and pipes brightly, << It's true, he *does* have a tail!
>> Aeyri trills rapturously, and Peaseblossom zips up to look, as
does Nescor, though he's rather unimpressed, since his human has one
of those, too. (Nescor's commentary distracts Katie long enough to
chirp curiously at Nescor, and the blue firelizard attempts to
clarify with an appropriate projection of an image, but for some
unbeknowst reason, he's forcibly halted from afar... )
	The green firelizards can't resist a closer look, though, and
playfully they try to yank the young rider's alledged 'tail'. Letting
off a startled shriek, F'hlan squirms out of the way and grabs for
the jacket again. Prompted by his panic and embarrassment, the young
rider's temper snaps.
	He very securely re-ties the jacket around himself, pulls
himself up out of Arlianth's enclosing claws, and yells furiously
that he is *not* proddy - though the firelizards disagree, he must be
proddy, he's glowing (well, he's blushing, but they're willing to let
this count) - *not* a firelizard *or* a dragon, and most definitely
*not* being flown! Storming across the sand, he retrieves his
clothes, and yanks his trousers and boots back on before untying the
flying jacket.
	Elisa and Thryla seem only momentarily nonplussed; Tzornth is
more startled, since he's never seen his rider this way before.
F'hlan wonders hotly exactly how he is supposed to refute the
reputation of bronzeriders as nothing but hormone-driven maniacs if
half the firelizards on the planet have seen him naked.
	Thryla rallies back and asks cajolingly why he doesn't want
to be a hormone-driven maniac, it's fun! She grabs his shirt before
he can reach it, and insists that he can't fly anywhere, since his
clothes *are* after all still damp. Backing her up, Elisa has
Arlianth warble commandingly to Tzornth.
	Undaunted, F'hlan strides up to his dragon and demands, "Are
you going to take me home or do I have to walk?"
	Tzornth attempts a rejoinder: << Across the entire continent?
Yeah right! >> but the retort lacks conviction. Thryla, still
insistent, informs F'hlan she will have to yell at him if he tries to
fly *between*; fine, F'hlan snaps back, yell at him, but he will
*not* be gawked at, and *not* be treated like a prize herdbeast.
	Thryla, who'd been a herder before Impressing Monareth,
observes that she's actually quite good at treating prize herdbeasts;
Nescor chirps that F'hlan can't be a prize herdbeast, since they have
bigger tails. F'hlan, however, thoroughly and absolutely embarrassed,
pulls his flying jacket on over his bare torso and growls that he is
going to walk to Tillek and get the watchrider there to take him back
to Benden.

PART IV -- I HATE LITTLE FIRELIZARDS, AND MY DRAGON HATES 'EM TOO
	No one on the beach seems to realize, during all of this,
that Katie's clutch on the nearby sand mound has started rocking. The
firelizards have noticed, though, and their piping voices lift up
abruptly in hums. F'hlan pays absolutely no attention as he heads off
for the trees.
	The eggs begin hatching with startling quickness. Thryla and
Elisa, as well as the herder Helbergina, who happened by, sheepishly
cast glances at F'hlan's departing back but are more distracted by
the eggs.
	F'hlan's departing back is the first thing seen by the first
hatchling to crack shell, though. Dainty, adorable, and crooning
incessantly, the baby green firelizard tumbles off the mound and zips
straight for the young bronzerider. Unfortunately, she has a new
hatchling's clumsiness, and F'hlan is not looking where he is going.
His booted foot catches the little green's wing.
	This does redirect Thryla's and Elisa's attention back to
him, though Helbergina, spying a blue hatching at that point, is
paying more attention to the clutch. His pale face still flushed with
anger, F'hlan pauses and eyes the hatchling for a moment; his
expression flickers for a moment with concern, but he mutters an oath
and strides off again.
	The hatchling green keeps after him. Sioll and Aeyri chirrup
to her brightly; Aeyri in particular, though her cuteness far
outweighs her intelligence, senses that this infinitely affectionate
hatchling is a soul-sister to her. Blue Nescor flits around to hover
in front of F'hlan's face, cheeping insistently.
	F'hlan glares at Nescor. He. Is. Leaving. Get. Out. Of. His.
Way. Now. The hatchling, feeling rejected, croonwails disappointedly;
doesn't the human like her? Of course he does, F'hlan's firelizards
chirp; he's very sweet and kind, go get him!
	Nescor gazes back unperturbedly and lands on F'hlan's
shoulder, trying to direct his attention back to the hatchling green.
This pauses the rider long enough for the newly encouraged baby
firelizard to catch up again, and she grabs at F'hlan's heel.
	Realizing he's in danger of stepping on the creature again,
F'hlan stops. The little green promptly hops around to perch on the
toe of his boot, crooncrooncrooning loudly and insistently. She gets
louder, looking up adoringly when F'hlan looks down.
	The rest of the clutch is hatching in earnest, and more
passers-by, attracted by the signs of a firelizard hatching, have
happened onto the scene. Candre, Gian, and Kachiren all show up, and
along with Helbergina and Thryla, attempt to cajole the rest of the
hatchlings their way, though not without casting occasional glances
towards the tiny green and her chosen target. F'hlan's weyrmate
Melora arrives on the scene, on her way back from Harper business.
Knowing a sure thing when she sees it, Melora smiles at her young
mate and the little green and settles back to watch.
	Our hero's usual gentle-hearted streak begins taking over
again; grudgingly but gently, he tries to dislodge the hatchling from
his foot. It does not work. Neither does his attempt to reach down
and pull her off with his hands, because she promptly grabs onto his
fingers and chirruples ecstatically. Not even F'hlan's shy mutter
that he has nothing to feed her is successful, for Elisa and Candre
promptly pass him meatrolls. Sheepishly, F'hlan realizes that excuse
is no longer valid. He feeds and Impresses the little green amidst
her fervent chirps about what a sweet person he is, as well as highly
pleased pipings from the other two firelizards, and amused eye
whirlings from Tzornth.

PART V -- I Might Forgive You in the Morning, if You're Sober

	Melora, still smiling, passes F'hlan a bundle of dry
clothing, fetched from his weyr back at Benden. F'hlan changes -
carefully, so as not to disturb the new hatchling on his arm, and
*behind* Tzornth, for he is still blushing. Thryla and Elisa insist
that he still shouldn't fly *between* because his hair is still wet.
And Melora agrees, gently but firmly settling her weyrmate down
amongst his dragon's forelegs, and draping a warm blanket along him
and the firelizards.
	F'hlan is assured by a sighing Thryla that nothing will
happen to him without his consent. He cannot help but take the word
of a fellow rider, though he is still embarrassed and grumpy as he
drops off to sleep....

END