I also, simply because I have a problem with the idea of graphic sex scenes with under-aged characters, have deliberately played with the character's ages so that anyone participating in those scenes are at least seventeen. Truth is, they probably would be a little younger in this scenario but I'm choosing my conscience here over accuracy. (Bad enough being sued, without being arrested too! <g>)

Anyway, that's more than enough panicked rambling.  It's just my way of explaining that this story may not stay on the site for long (depending on how much time it takes before some sad no-life bastard rats me to the said vengeful author <g>) so I hope you enjoy it while it's available.

Due to the size of the story, I'm posting it in two parts. 

His back was on fire and each movement of his legs scraped the rough cloth of his tunic over the fresh welts that Spender had lain into his back. The whip had disturbed skin still swollen and scabbed from his last beating, so the pain seemed to flow in waves down his spine, alternating between sharp and dull, fresh and old, agonizing and exhausting.

Yet, the pain was so old and familiar that it barely affected him. Once he had crawled from the hall and slowly hauled himself back to his feet, Fox had begun to mentally shut the agony away from himself. The fire in his flesh was insignificant next to the fire in his mind. Some of his determination was fuelled by anger. It was rage born of the same burning unquenchable spirit that the Spenders had been trying to beat out of him for turns. Fox *knew* it was the spark of defiance in his eyes that constantly provoked the beatings he suffered, that it was his occasional rebellions against his younger masters that made them set him up for Lord Mulder's fury, yet as much as he *tried* to learn humility it simply wasn't in his nature to quietly submit to unfair brutality. 

Fox understood he had no rights, that he was the property of his masters and could be treated by them in any fashion they saw fit. He had learnt to his cost that any attempt to escape the Hold inevitably ended with him caught, chained and then beaten back into submission. He'd long since learnt the futility of attempting escape. The ring in his ear and the metal collar around his neck both marked him clearly as the property of his Lord Holder and anyone finding him outside of the Hold knew full well that they would be rewarded for returning him. He knew that no one would ever help him because he'd been dragged back to Mulder six times in as many years by merciless strangers who had looked at his battered body and had seen only the means to earn themselves easy money. 

So Fox knew that he was destined to live his whole life as a kitchen drudge in Mulder Hold. He knew he would never know how it felt to have a full belly, or soft clothes, or boots for his cold calloused feet, or even simply the touch of a hand raised to him in kindness rather than anger. He knew his lot in life would never be any different and having been warned in no uncertain terms that any further escape attempts would be punished by the amputation of a foot, he even accepted his incarceration now. His vivid imagination made him all too capable of visualizing how much worse his life would be as a cripple. Even so, his reluctant decision to stop fighting for his freedom hadn't meant his spirit had been quenched.

He was defeated but not broken. His anger still burned inside him. It was the only thing that allowed him to cope with the unfair cruelties of his life. As long as he could keep that spark of defiance alive in his eyes, he could somehow cope with the indignities that his body suffered.

Yet it wasn't anger that was currently driving him to stagger down the deserted corridors towards the Hold's outer cavern, it was his need to know the truth about his sister's disappearance. No matter how many times he was beaten, or how many times even his fellow drudges mocked him for his 'fantasies', Fox *knew* his sister Samantha had been taken away by dragon-riders such as those now dining in his Lord's hall.

He'd learnt over the last six turns to keep his beliefs to himself. Kersh, the over-seer of the Kitchens, had delighted too many times in mocking his assertion that a lowly drudge like his sister might have been 'chosen'. Fox had learned to publicly agree that he had been so ill with the plague at the time that his memory of Samantha's abduction was simply a fever-induced fantasy and that she had undoubtedly simply been either sold by the last Lord Mulder or had died of the plague herself. 

Privately, however, Fox *knew* the truth. He remembered the dragon-riders arriving at the Hold with medicine and supplies, he remembered the burning burial pits where even the last Lord Mulder and his family had been reduced to ashes and he *clearly* remembered one of the riders carefully picking Samantha up, stepping over his own fever-racked frame, and placing her on the back of one of the magnificent dragons before flying away.

So he staggered through the hallways, blood trickling down his back, his knees trembling with a combination of fear, pain and semi-starvation, and then he crawled through the tiny gap under the portcullis that separated the main hall from the outer cavern. As he dragged himself on his belly through the dusty gap, he found himself giggling quietly. It was a desperate nervous sound, partially a reaction to his fear of being caught but also in genuine humor at the realization that it was only the fact he was so emaciated that made it possible for him to squeeze through the gap.

Fox had spent six turns dreaming of dragons. Every time he closed his eyes he was transported back to that long-ago night when the only other member of his family who had survived the plague had disappeared in a cloud of dragon wings. He would have sworn that he had seen dragons so often in his memories that they could hold no terror for him in the flesh. Yet his first sight of the dragons resting in the cavern stole his breath away. They were so *huge*. It didn't make sense to him, at first, that he could be six-turns older, six-turns taller, and still find that in reality the dragons of his dreams were actually *larger* than he recalled.

Their heads were wider than his arm-span, triangular in shape and tapering to widely fanged jaws. All three were taller lying down than he was standing, but the nearest dragon dwarfed even the other two. While the smaller dragons had multi-faceted scales of burnished green and blue, the larger dragon was the same russet brown in color as Fox's own hair. Yet brown was an insufficient word to describe the shining scales. The dragon was a ripple of colors, from flame-red through bronze, all autumn hues like burning embers. He was, quite simply, the most fantastically beautiful creature Fox had ever seen and the boy moaned and swayed in his presence, weakened by his awe of the dragon's magnificence in a way that the battering of his own body had never accomplished.

And, although Fox's exclamation was little more than a breathless gasp, the tiny noise was enough to alert the dragon to his presence. The dragon's eyes snapped open, deep vast multi-faceted jewels of amber and gold, and Fox's own hazel eyes mimicked the dragon's round glare, although it was fear that widened the boy's eyes while the dragon merely stared with curiosity.

For a long time they simply looked at each other, boy and dragon, Freyth not moving lest the quivering boy ran, Fox too busy fighting his urge to flee to gather the breath to speak. Yet, finally, it was Fox who broke the silence between them.

"Please, Sir," he whispered, uncertain how a dragon should be addressed. "I…I…" then his nerve broke and he looked down in embarrassment, scuffing the floor with the toes of his right foot, his hands clenching into terrified fists.

Freyth cocked his head to one side and regarded the boy thoughtfully. In forty turns he'd visited a lot of holds and had met thousands of humans unfamiliar with his kind, yet he'd never before experienced one who had the nerve to approach him without his rider in attendance. Certainly the boy was overawed and obviously terrified, the fear-stench was so heavy in the air that it almost drowned the even less palatable scents of human blood and unwashed flesh that hung like a cloud around the boy's almost skeletal frame, but the boy hadn't turned to flee. He was still standing there, his whole body trembling as he seemed to fight for the courage to speak further.

It was that bravery that made Freyth answer back. It was strange to speak into a mind other than that of his rider. Hearing the 'voice' of a dragon was a privilege reserved for riders alone, and most often dragons spoke only to their *own* rider. Still, there was something about the boy that interested Freyth, some ripple of recognition so vague that Freyth couldn't determine its origin and yet there was *something* about the boy, so he finally deigned to speak.

"Hello, Fox," he said, snatching the name effortlessly out of the boy's head.

Fox staggered, flinched and half-turned as though to flee, as the dragon's voice reverberated inside his mind. His heart hammered in his chest, the blood drained from his face in shock and he took several unconscious steps away before managing to control his instinctive fear.

Freyth sighed softly and began to close his eyes once more, certain that the boy would run away after all. To his surprise, though, the boy recovered and gave him a small, though graceless, bow.

"I…I'm ho..honoured," Fox stammered. "Th…thank you for…for sp..speaking to me."

Freyth's eyes swirled with renewed interest. The boy's manners were untrained but clearly good and it surprised the brown dragon that a serving boy would have enough knowledge of his kind to understand the singular honor that had been bestowed upon him. 

"You have a question of me?" he prompted.

Fox gulped and nodded. He still couldn't bring himself to look the dragon in the face but his voice emerged far stronger this time.

"Do you know my sister, Sir?" he asked.

"Your sister?" Freyth queried kindly.

"Samantha, my sister, you took…well not you but…well she was taken six turns ago," Fox blurted.

"On search?" Freyth asked, something prickling his memory although his mind worked so unlike a human's that the strange thoughts that assaulted him in response to the boy's question were more like a kaleidoscope of images, smells and senses. 

"Yes, Sir," Fox confirmed, ducking his head shyly.

"Wait," Freyth rumbled, confused by his strong reaction to the boy yet trusting that his senses were true even if his mind couldn't truly grasp the reason the human seemed significant. As always, when he was faced with thoughts that mystified him, he reached out to his rider for help. "Sk'nar?"

Sk'nar rolled out of bed, reaching for his boots with one hand and slapping Sh'ron awake with the other.

"What is it?" Sh'ron grumbled sleepily, blinking in the low light and moaning softly at the cold air that bit his bare skin now his mate was no longer lying beside him.

"I think Freyth's found the candidate," Sk'nar replied excitedly, hauling a soft under-tunic over his clearly-defined chest. 

"He has?" Sh'ron asked, reaching out to touch Cerith's mind for confirmation but finding only the contented pattern that indicated she was still sleeping. 

"Well he's a little over-excited so I can't get much sense out of him, but apparently Samantha has a sibling," Sk'nar explained. 

"I thought her whole family died of the plague."

"So did she," Sk'nar agreed. "She'll be happy to be wrong."

"Even if this girl is Samantha's sister, it doesn't mean she'll impress," Sh'ron replied, pulling on his own clothes then reaching for his boots. "If dragons were that easily pleased we wouldn't have to look outside the Weyr for candidates."

"I know," Sk'nar agreed. "It's not the point though. It explains why Freyth was drawn here despite the obvious lack of candidates in Mulder Hold. He must have recognized the similarity to Samantha in this girl."

"She's probably pregnant with a Spender bastard like the rest of them," Sh'ron complained.

"Probably."

"Will we take her back with us regardless?" Sh'ron asked.

"A new-born child is always a blessing to the Weyr, regardless of who the father is. Besides, this girl is Samantha's family so she belongs with her. The rider who 'found' Samantha would never have deliberately left a sole sibling behind. He must have assumed this girl was either dead or past recovery."

"Well, if she's anything like Samantha she'll be welcome whether she's dragon-rider material or not. There can never be too many pretty girls in a Weyr."

"Says a green-dragon rider who never looks twice at anyone without a cock," Sk'nar sniggered.

Sh'ron grinned. "Ah, but having pretty girls around the place reduces the competition," he laughed. 

"What makes you think I might not fancy this 'pretty girl' myself?" Sk'nar teased. 

Sh'ron just laughed at the idea of his mate leaving him for a girl. He was still laughing when they reached the cavern, but the mirth was wiped off his face when they entered and met Samantha's 'sister'. The ragged clothing, blood and dirt covering the skinny creature that shrank back in obvious terror at their arrival meant it was virtually impossible to make out any features except a pair of surprisingly vivid hazel eyes, but the thin gangly figure was clearly almost as tall as Sk'nar. 

"Well, it's too dirty for me to tell whether it's pretty," Sh'ron hissed at Sk'nar, "but it's definitely no girl."

"But you said you were looking for *female* candidates," Spender protested.

"We were," Sk'nar replied smoothly, "but as you know yourself there are many eggs in the current clutch and never *too* many candidates for them."

"He's a drudge," Jeffrey hissed angrily. "How the hell can he be a candidate?"

"Unfortunately dragons are sadly lacking in appreciation of a boy's rank in life," Sh'ron replied, in a tone so respectful that only Sk'nar was aware he was being sarcastic.

"He's barely a boy," Spender argued. "He must be eighteen or nineteen by now."

Sk'nar was shocked by the comment. Although Fox was tall, the combination of his boyish features and emaciated frame had made Sk'nar assume he was no older than his nephew A'lex. He hadn't had a chance to ask Fox himself. Already overawed by Freyth, the addition of their unexpected arrival had driven the drudge into such a state of panic that he'd bolted. 

Even if had only been 17, like A'lex,  Fox would still have been far too old to impress a dragon but Sk'nar was counting on the fact that Spender wouldn't know that. The Search was the only possible excuse they had for taking a drudge away from his master. 

Realizing that Samantha's brother was the same unfortunate drudge who had been so brutally beaten in front of his own eyes had made Sk'nar doubly determined to rescue him,  even if he *was* a boy.  He and Sh'ron had discussed the option of attempting to 'buy' the drudge off Spender but, as Sh'ron had pointed out, Mulder Hold was obviously (if inexplicably) wealthy so Spender was far more likely to be swayed by the offer of prestige than gold.

"Who understands the minds of dragons?" Sk'nar asked, shrugging and making a helpless gesture with his hands. "Freyth insists that we have been successful in our search, that your Hold has yet again provided an excellent candidate for the hatching, so I must accept that he is right."

"They say Dragons always know," Spender agreed thoughtfully. "As the Lord Holder of a potential candidate, I suppose I would be invited to attend the hatching?"

"Naturally," Sh'ron agreed quickly. "We always honor the Holds who support us and the Hatching would be an ideal opportunity for you to socialize with the Lords of other Holds."

Spender smiled, his dark eyes flickering greedily as he weighed the political advantages of attending the Hatching against the loss of one insolent drudge.

"Of course," he replied expansively. "Mulder Hold is pleased to be able to assist the Weyr in this small matter." He snapped his fingers at a passing drudge. "Go tell this 'Fox' creature to go to the Outer Cavern."

"Do you think he'll notice Fox isn't even going to be offered as a candidate?" Sh'ron asked, as they make their hasty escape.

"I doubt he even knows what the boy really looks like," Sk'nar replied in a low growl. "He's probably never noticed anything except his back while he flogs it. Fox is a drudge, Sh'ron, he's learnt to creep around with his face to the floor and, besides, it's another month until the hatching. By then, there'll be enough meat on his bones to make him unrecognizable anyway."

"Come to think of it, just a bath will render him unrecognizable," Sh'ron laughed. "I hope you and Freyth are taking him home because Cerith will never forgive me if I let a grubby pup like that climb on her back."

"Shush," Sk'nar warned, as they entered the outer cavern and he spotted the drudge cowering inside. At first he naturally assumed the boy was frightened of the dragons, but their entry made Fox back away closer to Freyth as though he was more terrified of the riders. He sighed sadly, realizing that the Dragons were unknown entities to the boy while humans were a known threat.

"Do you understand that you are leaving with us?" he asked kindly, uncertain whether the boy even knew what was going on.

To his surprise, the terror on the lad's face was immediately wiped away by a wide, excited grin.

"Really, Sir?" Fox gasped, hugging himself in obvious glee.

"Really," Sk'nar laughed.

"I'm really going to see Samantha?"

"Yes, Fox," Sk'nar agreed.

"Oh, thank you, Sirs," Fox breathed, sinking to his knees in front of the three Dragon-riders and touching his forehead to the floor with a willing reverence that would have amazed his former Masters had they witnessed it.

Fr'hike growled low in his throat at the boy's gesture of submission and stepped forwards as though to haul Fox to his feet. Sk'nar caught his arm and patted him on the shoulder soothingly. "Don't react, Fr'hike. It'll take him time to realize his life has changed and that he needs bow to no man. Let him learn his new freedom in his own time."

Then Sk'nar frowned at the thin rag-like tunic that appeared to be the boy's only clothing.

"Have you no cloak?" he demanded angrily, furious that no-one had thought to clothe the boy for his journey. When the dragons traveled 'between', they passed through sub-zero temperatures that would freeze the flesh off the boy's bare arms and legs.

Fox sat back on his heels, his body trembling in sudden fear at the Dragon-rider's angry tone as it suddenly occurred to him that maybe the riders didn't *know* he was only a drudge.

"Please, Sir. Don't change your mind," he pleaded. "I'll work hard for you, I swear and I don't eat much and I won't ever try and run away from *you*."

Sh'ron's eyes narrowed impishly as he picked up the emphasis Fox had unconsciously given his last word.

"How many times *have* you run away from your Lord?" he demanded.

Sk'nar gave his mate an angry glare, seeing the way the boy's trembling increased at the question. 

In a frightened whisper, Fox said, "Only six times, I swear." 

"*Only* six?" Sk'nar demanded incredulously. He turned to Fr'hike and quietly chuckled. "I don't think you need worry about him after all, my friend. He might look tame but there's obviously far more to him than meets the eye."

"He's *special,*", Freyth confirmed.

"You keep saying that," Sk'nar replied, looking at his dragon with puzzled eyes, "but I don't understand what you mean."

Freyth didn't reply and from the confused looks on his companions' faces, Sk'nar was sure they were having similarly unenlightening conversations with their own dragons. His suspicion was confirmed when Sh'ron turned to him with a rueful shrug.

"He might be 'special' but he still smells," Sh'ron muttered, with a dramatic sniff.

"Green riders. You're all the same," Sk'nar scoffed, slapping Sh'ron fondly. "The boy can ride with me." 

"Macho man," Sh'ron sniggered.

Sk'nar reached out an arm to the kneeling drudge. "Come on," he said gently. "I'll wrap my cloak around you to keep you warm."

Fox looked up at him, his eyes shining with surprised relief, and accepted Sk'nar's hand. Considering how much the lad was shaking, Sk'nar was pleasantly surprised by the gesture of apparent trust and rewarded it by wrapping his arm gently around the boy's shoulders as he encouraged him towards Freyth. As he helped the nervous lad onto Freyth's back and wrapped his arms around the emaciated frame to hold him safe, his nose wrinkled with distaste and he decided Sh'ron had been right about the smell. He decided he'd personally have to reacquaint Fox with the idea of bathing before taking the boy to the Weyr-leader and trying to explain why he'd gone on search for a Queen candidate only to return with an over-aged boy instead.

As though they too couldn't wait to escape Mulder Hold, as soon as they stepped out of the Outer Cavern into the daylight, the dragons leapt upwards in the air and propelled themselves into the sky with almost breath-taking speed.

"Wow," Fox gasped, at Freyth's almost vertical launch, then exploded with joyous laughter.

Sk'nar tightened his hold around the boy's shaking frame, as Freyth's antics threatened to unseat them both, but found an answering smile twitching at the corner of his own mouth at Fox's exclamation of pleasure. Usually, whether he and Freyth were transporting candidates or Lord Holders, the reaction of non-riders to being suddenly thrust airborne on a dragon was a scream of sheer terror. On more than one occasion the scream had been accompanied by far more embarrassing side effects like nausea or a weak bladder. For a beaten boy, who'd spent his whole life working as a drudge in a Hold's kitchen, who more than likely had only seen daylight on his abortive attempts to escape, to scream with *excitement* at Freyth's flight was not only surprising to Sk'nar but immensely pleasing too
.
Sk'nar felt a strange surge of affection for the boy. He *was* special, Sk'nar decided, and Freyth gave a rumbling chuckle of amusement as he picked up his rider's thought.

"He cleaned up nicely," Sh'ron muttered.

Sk'nar rolled over in bed, until the younger man was trapped beneath him.

"You sound disappointed," he murmured, kissing Sh'ron's neck.

"No, just jealous," Sh'ron admitted reluctantly. "I mean I could see he was probably 'pretty' even in that god-awful tunic with greasy hair and a life-time of dirt on his face, but I had no idea he'd wash up *that* cute."

"Me neither," Sk'nar replied. "Though I'm glad."

"I'll bet," Sh'ron snorted.

"I'm glad," Sk'nar repeated, "because he'll find it easier to attract himself a good mate when he's old enough."

"Old enough? He's almost nineteen. Besides, he was a drudge, Sk'nar. He probably knows even more about sex than a Weyr-brat."

"No, he doesn't," Sk'nar corrected. He sighed at Sh'ron's look of disbelief. "I know it's improbable that he's still a virgin, but apparently he is."

"And how exactly did *that* conversation come up?" Sh'ron demanded, arching an eyebrow suspiciously.

"I knew you'd never let me in bed without bathing his stench off me," Sk'nar laughed, "So it made sense to share his bath. Besides, since it was obvious he'd never seen a bath in his life, I was worried he might drown if I left him alone in it."

Sh'ron snorted.

"He was so skittish when I was helping him wash all that accumulated grime off that I was worried he thought I was going to assault him."

"You'd never take advantage of anyone," Sh'ron replied indignantly.

"Of course I wouldn't, but I reasoned Fox wouldn't know that. So…well, I tried to reassure him and he turned bright red and got even more flustered. I finally realized he didn't even know two men could be sexually intimate. He was just embarrassed about me seeing all his scars."

"Really?" 

"Turns out the Spenders only rape their female drudges, which is unfortunate for the poor girls but at least Fox was spared that trauma in his life."

"Good," Sh'ron replied. "He seems like a nice kid and given the way we're so uninhibited in the Weyr, he'll have a problem fitting in here if sex frightens him. Do you remember that poor girl from Wendar Hold who'd been raped? She nearly had a nervous breakdown when she witnessed her first mating flight."

"I hear she's settled down nicely at the Harper Hold," Sk'nar replied. 

"Yes, but that's my point. She couldn't stay *here*, could she? And, unless Fox is hiding some talent for singing, I can't see him becoming a harper."

"I had that conversation with my brother," Sk'nar sighed. "As soon as I settled Fox in the guest quarters I went and admitted what I'd done. Our illustrious Weyr-Leader wasn't amused."

"Did he say Fox could stay?"

"Of course, but he's concerned *what* we're supposed to do with him. If he was a girl it wouldn't matter. We're so short of women in the Weyr that no one cares if they just sit around and look pretty."

"Well, *he* is pretty," Sh'ron laughed. "I can think of a few blue riders who wouldn't object to keeping him as a pet."

"Absolutely not. We didn't rescue him from life as a drudge just to become someone's whore," Sk'nar replied angrily. "Anyway, I can't see Fox being satisfied with just sitting around. He has a bright, inquisitive mind despite his upbringing. He'll just get himself into trouble if we don't find him something to occupy his time. Still, I'm at a total loss about what he *can* do here. He's too old to impress. He can't read or write. He's had no education at all, from what I can gather."

"He could work in our kitchens," Sh'ron pointed out. "Life as a kitchen drudge here is a damn good one. They always get first pick of Mora's bubbly pies and she treats them all like they're her children. I reckon Fox could do with a little mothering."

"That's what I suggested to D'var," Sk'nar admitted, "and, like I said, he wasn't amused. He says it's one thing telling a lie to rescue the boy, since he *is* Samantha's brother, but that taking a Lord Holder's drudge without payment and then setting him to work in *our* kitchen is little short of theft."

"He's got a point," Sh'ron agreed. "Maybe Fox could work with the livestock or something instead."

"I suppose," Sk'nar replied. "There's plenty of time to work something out. It'll take weeks just to put some flesh on him. It's just a shame he's so old. None of the Masters will accept an apprentice as old as he is and there's just something about him, you know? For all the fear, he's got a bright inquisitive mind and the fact he tried to escape so many times shows he's got spirit. It's a real shame that he'll never get a chance to make anything of himself."

"I agree," Sh'ron replied. "But at least he'll be fed and clothed and cared for here and he'll certainly never be beaten again." 

"I know," Sk'nar sighed. "I just wish I could offer him *more*."

Sh'ron frowned. 

"You're…you're not…um…"

Sk'nar groaned.

"I told you, Sh'ron. He's practically young enough to be my son. There's no reason to be jealous. Just because I feel protective towards him doesn't mean I want to tumble him."

"I know," Sh'ron agreed, with a cheeky grin, "but I just like the way you reassure me when I *act* jealous."

"Brat," Skinner growled, leaning over to bite Sh'ron's shoulder.

"See," Sh'ron purred happily.

Fox sat in the kitchen, his long legs kicking the back of the bench nervously, his hands twisting in his lap, and his huge eyes watching with a combination of fear and anticipation as Mora ladled porridge into a large bowl and then swirled honey over the top of it. His stomach growled loudly and he flinched slightly in his seat, casting a nervous glance at Mora's face. She turned her head and smiled at him warmly, then passed the bowl over. He grabbed it quickly, as though frightened she'd change her mind, then hurriedly began to spoon the sweet oatmeal into his mouth.

"Slow down," she laughed.

He choked, dropped the spoon worriedly and stared at her with wary eyes. She clucked her tongue at his fear and gave him a warm, reassuring smile. 

"There's plenty more where that came from, Fox, and you're welcome to as much food as you can eat. No one goes hungry in the Weyr. But you must learn not to eat so quickly or you'll be sick again."

Fox blushed, picked his spoon up again and resumed eating more slowly, desperately reminding himself with every mouthful that no one was going to come and steal his breakfast. It was hard. He'd spent years having to fight for every morsel, often only to have his hard-won food snatched away again if he didn't immediately cram it into his mouth and swallow. Although he *wanted* to trust Mora, it was hard not to just grab the bowl and pour the porridge down his throat.  Only the fact that he had spent most of this week immediately vomiting all the food he'd bolted enabled him to control his hunger. He understood it would take time for his stomach to adjust to the feeling of being full, and that Mora only wanted to ensure he kept *this* breakfast down, but knowing her reasoning and *believing* it were two different things.

Mora waited until Fox had cleared his bowl, waited for the porridge to settle, then passed the boy a fat slice of cold wherry pie that had been left over from the previous night's supper. It was going to take more than porridge to put flesh on Fox's bones, she reasoned, and the way the boy's face lit up at the offering made her heart warm towards him. Of course, the way he immediately checked over his shoulder for possible thieves of his treat was a little upsetting but she understood that it would take a lot longer than a week to teach Fox trust.

She pulled a tray of bubbly pies out of the oven and, seeing Fox's nostrils twitch with interest, she smiled internally and decided she'd introduce Fox to this new treat as soon as she returned from the main hall. 

"Wait here, I won't be long," she told him.

Fox watched her walk out of the room and sighed. Other than returning to his room, he didn't have anything else to do but wait. He'd been living in the Weyr for a week and he still hadn't been re-united with his sister, the kind brown rider Sk'nar had turned out to be the brother of the Weyr-leader himself and was so busy that although he'd made a point of visiting Fox every day, he never stayed more than a few minutes, and for some reason it seemed to Fox that he was being deliberately kept apart from everyone else.

It wasn't that he was unhappy, exactly. He was warm, well-fed and well-clothed and Mora seemed to genuinely enjoy his visits to her kitchen but, the rest of the time, Fox was lonely. Besides, for the first time in his life he had time to just sit and relax, and he was discovering that idleness wasn't the luxury he'd always imagined it to be. He was so bored that he was almost jumping out of his skin.

"So you're Fox."

Fox jerked around in panic at the amused drawl, instinctively wrapping his arms around his empty breakfast bowl. His eyes widened in surprise. Despite his deep, almost husky voice, the speaker was only about 17. His hair was such a dark brown that it seemed almost as black as the tight riding leathers that stretched over his surprisingly muscular frame, and his eyes were an intense, stormy green that reminded Fox of Cerith's scales.

"I'm A'lex," the newcomer announced, his tone so arrogant that Fox had the impression the name should mean something significant to him. "D'von's my father," A'lex added, when he noticed Fox's slightly bewildered expression. Then he grinned with satisfaction at the appropriate look of awe that crossed Fox's face at the comment.

"Mora told me about you. You're the Weyr-Leader's son *and* a bronze rider, aren't you?" Fox gasped, torn between envy and wonder.

"Of course I am," A'lex replied, with casual arrogance. "I keep hearing Uncle Sk'nar talking about you so I decided it was time I met you myself," he announced, walking over to the oven and helping himself to one of Mora's bubbly pies. 

Fox watched with a combination of fascination and terror at A'lex's casual theft. The smell of the fruity tarts had been making Fox's mouth water since the Headwoman had taken them out of the oven to cool. He'd been shuffling in his seat, staring longingly at the pies, praying desperately that Mora might take pity on his hunger and offer him one on her return, but it had never even crossed his mind to *take* one for himself.

A'lex saw the longing look in Fox's eyes, smirked internally and, helping himself to another pie, he came to sit at the kitchen table and devoured the pie slowly in front of the older boy's envious eyes. He made a performance of licking his lips slowly, then sighing with satisfaction as he took the last bite.

"I don't know what all the fuss is about," A'lex said, his eyes raking thoughtfully over Fox's face. "Seth said you were supposed to be 'special', but I can't see it myself. You're too thin and your nose is too big. You're not as good-looking as me, are you?"

"No," Fox agreed, then flushed and ducked his head.

"Still, you're *kind* of pretty, in a pouting sort of way, and that mouth will make you popular," A'lex added thoughtfully, with a strange glint in his eyes.

"Huh?" Fox asked, completely bewildered.

The younger boy laughed. "It's obvious you don't understand what goes on in a Weyr yet, Fox, but you'll figure it out when you get caught up in a mating flight."

"Mating flight?" 

A'lex began to breathe a little heavily, leaning forward across the table as though hungrily fascinated by Fox's wide-eyed confusion.

"Why do you think a worthless drudge like you was brought here?" A'lex asked spitefully. "After the mating flights there's a lot of horny, disappointed riders charging around the Weyr looking for a cheap little whore like you to fuck."

"I'm not a whore," Fox spat.

"That's not what my uncle says."

"You're a liar," Fox choked, despite a sudden, almost sickening feeling of doubt. 

"Am I?" A'lex smirked. 

"Mora said no one would hurt me here," Fox denied angrily, although his stomach began to churn with fear.

"Who said anything about you being hurt?" A'lex mocked. "A drudge like you should feel privileged to get a dragon-rider's cock up your ass. Think of it as an honor.  If you're really lucky, maybe I'll fuck you myself, Fox. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Being taken by a bronze-rider? I bet you'd scream for more as I rammed myself into your ass." 

He watched the color drain out of Fox's face and licked his lower lip with satisfaction. 

"The only person around here who's risking a sore backside is you, A'lex," Mora roared from the door, her face dark with outrage. "You know you're not supposed to come near Fox at the moment."

A'lex turned and gave her a winning, innocent smile.

"I just wanted to *look* at him, find out what all the fuss is about. Anyway, I was only teasing him, Mora," he wheedled.

"Well don't," she snapped. "Fox doesn't understand that kind of thing."

"It's about time he did then," A'lex replied, with a careless shrug. 

"I'll be glad when your Seth finally rises," Mora sighed, a little pity warring with her annoyance as she saw the unusual brightness of A'lex's eyes. The boy wasn't usually cruel and spiteful like this, but his hormones were raging with his young dragon's urge to mate and, like all the teenage riders, A'lex was acting like a complete brat. It was one of the reasons she was trying to keep Fox apart from the other boys at the moment. 

She turned towards the oven to control her temper, knowing that snapping at A'lex wouldn't help when it was Seth's inability to control himself at the moment that was causing the boy's atrocious behavior, and her eyes narrowed as she noticed the missing pies.

"A'lex? Have you been stealing my bubbly pies again?"

A'lex gave her a look of such hurt innocence at her accusation that she frowned in confusion. She *knew* Fox hadn't done it. She was sure the poor boy would bite his own fingers off before touching something that didn't belong to him, not that she would have begrudged *him* the treats.

"It was Fox," A'lex announced. At Mora's look of disbelief, he shrugged. "I mean I told him you wouldn't mind if he ate a couple, so I guess it's my fault but…" he shrugged again and smiled disarmingly.

Fox was too terrified to even try and deny A'lex's lie. He was a drudge, A'lex was a bronze-rider and the son of the Weyr-leader himself. He had no illusions about which one of them Mora would believe. He cringed, fully expecting Mora to erupt in outrage against him, and struggled to control the tears that were stinging the back of his eyes at A'lex's lie. It wasn't that he was unused to unfair treatment, or even that he was afraid of being punished, but he couldn't bear the thought that Mora would think he had stolen from her.

Mora narrowed her eyes, glancing between Fox's obvious misery and A'lex's look of cool innocence. She hadn't become the Headwoman of the Weyr from being naïve. Still, it wouldn't help Fox if she humiliated A'lex in front of him. A'lex was a proud boy who wouldn't easily forget that Fox had witnessed his shame. So she resisted the urge to call A'lex a liar to his face and instead smiled sweetly at both boys.

"How kind and thoughtful of you, A'lex," she purred. "You're right. Fox *is* in need of some serious fattening up." She walked over to the counter, picked up two more of the cooling pies and put them on Fox's plate. "I'm sure you could manage a couple more though, couldn't you?" she asked the bemused boy.

Fox gaped at her in disbelief, his nostrils twitching hungrily at the wonderful aroma drifting up from his plate. He was too confused to do anything until he saw the glowering anger in A'lex's eyes. His first instinct was to smirk at the younger boy, but years of beatings had taught him it was no small thing to make an enemy of someone as powerful and potentially cruel as A'lex. He looked at Mora, looked down at his plate, cautiously picked up one of the pies and, although his stomach growled at him angrily, he offered the pie to the younger boy.

The look of disbelief on A'lex's face was priceless. He blinked, opened his mouth, closed it, blinked again, snatched the pie ungracefully, spun on his heels and charged out of the room.

Mora waited until she was sure he'd gone before laughing softly.

"He's got a flying lesson this morning, Fox. Don't you think three pies might make him sick?"

Fox chewed his lower lip nervously but didn't confirm her suspicions that A'lex had stolen the other pies. For some reason his silence just made Mora fonder of the young man. She reached for another bubbly pie and placed it on Fox's plate.

"They're better warm," she prompted.

She waited until Fox started to cram a pie into his mouth before speaking again.

"I'll have a word with Sk'nar," she said. "Although A'lex was completely out of order, he's not a cruel boy really. He's just a little confused and frightened himself at the moment. His hormones are all over the place and you'd be advised to avoid him *and* the other youths for the next few weeks. It's just a case of unfortunate timing. Their dragons are all desperate to rise but they won't until after the hatching, so they and their riders are all very frustrated at the moment. Still, he was right about you learning about what goes on in the Weyr. It's nothing to be frightened of, Fox, and if it's not to your taste you just have to learn to stay in your own room when dragons mate. I'm sure Sk'nar will be able to explain everything to you."

"I'm sorry, Fox. I should have explained what was going on in the Weyr at the moment but I've been so busy with the preparations for the hatching that time just ran away with me," Sk'nar sighed. "I particularly regret the fact that my nephew obviously made such a poor impression on you, because usually he's a fine boy and I've been hoping the two of you would become friends."

"Yes, Sir," Fox agreed, although his expression remained dubious.

"I told you Samantha and the other very young riders were away from the Weyr until the hatching. What I didn't get around to telling you was why. We've got a small problem at the moment. A dozen horny seventeen-year-old bronze and brown riders whose dragons are desperate to rise but won't while there's a queen egg in the hatching ground."

"Why?" Fox asked.

"To be perfectly honest, I'm not sure," Sk'nar confessed. "It's not always easy to get to the bottom of dragon motivations. The general explanation is that it's too dangerous to have dragons and riders running around in heat while there are eggs on the ground. Personally, I think it's more dangerous to have a bunch of frustrated teenagers in the Weyr. Of course, the current problem is being acerbated by the queen egg."

"How?" Fox asked, his eyes sparking with genuine interest now.

"Boys usually impress at age 10 to 12. By the time their dragons are ready to mate, the boys are about 16 or 17, like A'lex. Girls generally impress at 14 or 15 because female dragons become sexually mature far sooner."

"But lots of boys impress Greens, don't they?" Fox demanded.

Sk'nar sighed and nodded. "The green-riders *are* known to be a little sexually precocious," he agreed. "Anyway, the relevance of the Queen Egg is that whichever girl impresses her will be ready to mate in as little as two turns. That means A'lex and his peers have less than two turns to learn how to win a mating flight if they are going to have a chance to mate with the new Queen rider."

"So they want to start getting their practice in now?" Fox asked dryly.

Sk'nar looked at him in surprise, then grinned with relief that the boy was so sharp. "It's the young bronzes more than their riders," he confessed. "Ever since the Queen Egg was lain, their instincts have been going crazy. There are over four-dozen fully mature bronzes in this Weyr, and, when she matures, this new Queen's mating flight will be thrown open to the other Weyrs too. That's a lot of competition and it's highly unlikely that any of the youngsters will stand a chance. That doesn't stop them dreaming of success though."

Fox laughed softly. "Dragon dreams," he murmured. "Do you think dragons dream of boys, like boys dream of dragons?" Then, at Sk'nar's puzzled look, Fox changed the subject slightly.

"Why this particular Queen?"

"The Weyrleaders have decided it's time to set up a new Weyr in the East. The settlement is already pretty established, the caves have been hollowed out for dragon weyrs and a lot of riders from different Weyrs have indicated they would like to move there. It's a chance to break through the isolation of the current Weyrs and bring them all together in a joint project. The problem, until now, is that there hasn't been a spare Queen. They aren't born very often, Fox. You've come here at a very special time."

"So whoever flies the new Queen becomes the Weyrleader of this new Weyr?"

"Exactly."

"A'lex would only be nineteen, even if he *did* manage to fly the queen. That's awfully young for a Leader, isn't it?"

Sk'nar laughed.

"Well, as I already said, his chances of winning the mating flight are just about zero but Seth doesn't believe that."

"Seth is his bronze?"

"Yes, and he's a very impressive dragon I admit. He and A'lex are going to be a force to contend with when they are older but, unfortunately for them, not in time for *this* Queen."

"Will he get another chance though?" Fox asked, his earlier anger at A'lex now shadowed by a little empathy.

"Eventually, perhaps. It's impossible to judge when another Queen might be born. There could be several in his lifetime or only this one." Sk'nar replied sadly. 

"What did A'lex mean about me being brought here so that the losing dragon-riders could…could use me?" Fox asked, in a near whisper.

"He was talking nonsense, Fox. No one in the Weyr is ever abused in *any* fashion."

"But Mora said he was right in a way," Fox pointed out. "She said I *did* need to understand what went on in a Weyr or lock myself in my room."

"I suppose I should explain a little about Weyr life to you," Sk'nar sighed, blushing a little. "You're a bright boy, Fox, so something should have already struck you about the problem we face here."

"Most dragons are male, and even a lot of the green dragons have male riders," Fox answered, after a thoughtful pause.

"Exactly. Blues, Browns and Bronzes are all male. Only Greens and Golds are female. You already know there are less than a dozen Queens on the whole planet. That leaves only the greens for all the male dragons to mate with and, as you said yourself, a lot of the green riders are male."

"So it's inevitable that a lot of matings take place between two male riders," Fox said thoughtfully.

"Does that bother you?"

"I don't understand how it's possible," Fox admitted, "but I understand the sense of it under the circumstances."

"And how do *you* feel about sex, Fox? You're a young man. Surely you must have thought about it sometimes, fantasized about it perhaps?"

Fox flushed and looked at the floor.

"Not really," he whispered. "I…well, my dreams never really went past the idea of dragons. It's all I ever wanted, to be taken away like Samantha was."

"Well, *that* dream came true, didn't it? So maybe it's time you had a new dream."

Fox sighed heavily. "I'm too old for dreams, Sir," he said, his tone so sad that Sk'nar instinctively understood the reason for Fox's sorrow. He'd finally been rescued, had finally been taken away by the dragons he'd dreamt of, only to realize that he was too old to ever have the chance to impress one himself. Perhaps living in the Weyr was a form of torture in itself. To be so close to what he had wanted, to see yet forever be unable to touch, must be a terrible thing. Sk'nar couldn't even imagine what his own life would have been without Freyth's presence in his mind, but he forced the sorrowful thought away and returned his attention to the conversation.

"Do you understand that when dragons mate, their riders do also?" he asked.

Fox nodded. "Of course. Freyth told me that dragons and riders are so closely linked mentally that strong emotions can't be separated."

"Freyth told you?" Sk'nar demanded. "My dragon *spoke* to you?"

Fox scrambled backwards, his face contorting with terror. Sk'nar saw his fear and forced his shocked features back into calmness.

"It's alright, lad," he soothed. "I'm not angry with you, just surprised. Freyth never speaks to anyone except myself."

"I was honored by him," Fox agreed, his voice humble.

Sk'nar smiled and patted his shoulder.

"He likes you, Fox, and that is the best recommendation anyone could have in my opinion."

Fox gave a cautious grin in return, then frowned in thought. "But there's still far more male dragons than greens, so riders must mate with non-riders."

"They do," Sk'nar agreed. "A lot of people in the Weyr are mated to riders. Mora, for instance, is the bond-mate of Fr'hike, the blue rider whom you met at Mulder Hold. Most non-riders don't actually mate with a single rider though. We're far less 'sticky' about permanent relationships here than they are in Holds. It's only the Queen and her bronze that tend to mate for life. Even close couples, such as Sh'ron and I, rarely stay together forever."

"So A'lex *was* right," Fox said. "When the dragons rise to mate, the riders of dragons who don't catch a green *will* want to use me."

"It's not a case of using, lad. Believe me, if you're ever caught in a mating frenzy you'll be as willing to participate as any rider is. The madness is pretty catching and, unless you're already mated, you'll be so flattered and excited by all the attention you'll receive that you'll probably find it the best experience you've ever had. That being said, you are perfectly at liberty to refuse to join in. Only, to be honest, the safest way to do that is to lock your door as Mora said. While no one would intentionally harm you, you're a very attractive young man and any rider in dragon-lust would probably fail to hear you say 'no'."

Despite the kindness of Sk'nar's tone, Fox couldn't meet his eyes. He was struggling too hard to hide his tears. As far as he could see, whatever slant Sk'nar put on it, A'lex had been telling the truth. The Weyr servants were little more than whores for the convenience of the dragon-riders. Suddenly all the good food and nice clothes he'd been given took on a new, more insidious meaning. He was just being fattened and prettied up so that he was more pleasing to look at when he was raped.

Sensing the boy's unhappiness, Sk'nar reached out to hug him, but Fox flinched away from him with a moan of obvious fear. Sk'nar sighed heavily.

"Maybe this *was* a mistake," he muttered. "A Weyr's no place for a virgin boy of your age. Perhaps I should call by the Harper Hall again and see if there's any position they can offer you there. Surely they must have *some* job you could do for them to earn your keep. At least you'd get a chance to be educated and Samantha would still be able to visit you there."

"I'm sorry," Fox blurted. For all his fear at the prospect of being raped, it was barely significant next to his terror of being returned to his former life. Although he'd witnessed the Spenders rape enough girls to know that being used sexually was painful, he was still sure sex couldn't be as agonizing as a whipping. "Please don't send me away. I didn't mean to make you angry with me."

"I'm not angry, lad. I'm worried about you. I didn't rescue you from Mulder Hold just to throw you into a nightmare. Because you weren't traumatized through being sexually abused by your former Masters, I just assumed you'd take Weyr life in your stride. I was stupid not to think it through properly. Your innocence is probably going to be even far more of a handicap to you here than a bad experience would have been."

"But I could just stay in my room, couldn't I?" Fox begged.

"I don't like the thought of you having to do that, Fox. What kind of life will you have here if you have to run and hide whenever dragons rise?"

"Please, sir?"

"We don't have to decide anything yet. You'll be busy re-uniting with Samantha when the dragons rise after the hatching, which will keep you out of the way this time. By the next mating flight who knows? You might even have found yourself a mate of your own by then, so all of this will be academic."

"That would be best, wouldn't it?" Fox asked solemnly. "For me to experience sex *before* a mating flight."

Sk'nar looked at the grim determination on the lad's face and had to smother a smile. Fox looked like he was preparing to face a battle. He had an instant's regret that he wouldn't be the one who took the innocent lad and taught him that sex was something to be exalted, not feared. 

"That's a wise decision," he replied, with equal solemnity. "Always attempt to meet new experiences prepared and in control. While I think you'll be surprised by how much pleasure you'll gain from another's touch, I agree that your first experience with another man would be better if he wasn't in dragon-lust at the time."

A'lex sprawled on his back in the long grass, his head pillowed on one of Seth's forearms, his eyes closed against the glare of the noon-day sun.

"What do you think of Kazira?" he asked, idly, sending a mental picture of the girl in question.

"Too skinny," Seth replied dismissively.

"I'm thinking of bedding her, not eating her," A'lex laughed. Then a tiny crease formed between his eyebrows as he considered Seth's obvious disinterest in the girl from Brednar Hold. "So, you don't reckon she'll be the one to impress?"

Seth shrugged his massive shoulders in a remarkably human gesture, then spread his wings a little to better catch the sunlight that was streaming down from the cloudless sky.

"I want to mate *now*," he grumbled. "Why does it matter yet who impresses the fledgling? I like Arbreth. She's a good flyer."

A'lex smiled. Arbreth was an impressive green, but more importantly she had a very pretty red-haired spitfire of a rider. He fancied the challenge of taming the fire out of Dana's flashing insolent eyes. It would be good diversion for him while he waited for the new Queen to mature. Whichever of the candidates impressed, there would be no touching the girl until her dragon was ready to deal with the transference of her rider's sexual emotions, so A'lex would need something to keep his cock warm while he waited. The fact that Seth was attracted to Arbreth meant a dalliance with Dana would be an ideal solution.

"I agree," he told Seth. "As soon as the hatching's over, we'll fly her." He smiled at the thought. Dana was one of the few green riders who seemed immune to his charm. While the other men and women of her wing simpered and smiled if he paid them attention, Dana just spat at him like a bad-tempered cat. She'd once told A'lex she'd rather cut her own hand off than touch him, but A'lex considered her hostility irrelevant. In the heat of the mating flight, Dana would be writhing with need, *begging* someone to fuck her, and when Seth caught Arbreth, A'lex would win Dana. It never even occurred to him that Seth might fail.

"So why are you thinking about bedding the candidates?" Seth asked, a little petulantly since he was sleepy and wanted to just sit and enjoy the sunny location A'lex had chosen for his deliberations.

"Because I figured something out," A'lex grinned.

"What?"

"The candidates are off limits after they impress but not *before*. If I could just figure out which one of them would be successful, I could bed her now and make my *own* impression."

"Why not fuck them all?" Seth asked sarcastically, rolling his eyes at his rider.

"I thought about it," A'lex admitted, "But time's short and tumbling a hold-bred girl isn't just a case of tripping them up and jumping on board. Apparently you have to convince them you love them or something stupid like that."

"Isn't that what you want? For the candidate to fall in love with you?" Seth asked, his eyes whirling with confusion.

A'lex grinned. "Of course. The way I see it…I tumble her now, let her pant over me for the next two years, keep her interested but frustrated, make her jealous of the riders I do fuck. Then, when her Queen is ready to fly, I figure she'll be 'amenable' to being caught by you."

"As long as no other bronze catches her first," Seth grumbled.

"Don't worry. By the time the Queen flies, we'll have learned all the tricks of the game. Even if we have to spend the next two years jumping between all the Weyrs for practice."

"You're planning on us joining ALL the mating flights?" Seth asked incredulously.

"Practice makes perfect," A'lex smirked, rubbing a hand against his hopefully soon-to-be-abused groin. Then he sighed heavily. "If only there was a way to figure out which one of the candidates was going to impress."

Seth was suspiciously silent. A'lex narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, then rolled over to stare his bronze in the face.

"What?" he demanded. "What are you holding back on?"

Seth ruffled his lower wings and pretended to be fascinated by an itch on his tail.

A huge triumphant smile split A'lex's face.

"Timing it," he announced. "It isn't a rumor, is it? Dragons really can fly between to a different time."

Seth's eyes began to whirl in panic and he stayed silent.

"It's okay," A'lex told him easily. "You obviously aren't allowed to say one way or the other. I don't care whether we discuss this or not, just as long as you understand we *are* going to do it."

"No," Seth replied worriedly.

"Oh yes," A'lex laughed. "Just once. No one will know what we've done. Just one little jump forward two weeks. What's the harm?"

"We can't exist twice in the same place and time," Seth replied.

"What do you mean?"

"We're going to be at the hatching TWICE."

"So we do it quick," A'lex said, with a careless shrug. "In, out. No harm, no foul. We just need a few seconds, Seth. Just long enough to see which girl impresses, then I'll spend the next two weeks 'impressing' her."

"We shouldn't," Seth argued weakly, and A'lex grinned as he recognized the tone of impending defeat in his dragon's voice.

"Think flying the new Queen, think being the head bronze of the new Weyr," he purred, and saw Seth's eyes darken with the contemplation of the tempting fantasy.

"When?" Seth asked.

"No time like the present," A'lex replied. "Let's go."

Mora was late. The breakfast had taken longer than usual to prepare because the Weyr was already beginning to fill up with guests who'd been invited to the hatching. Why they'd come two weeks early was anyone's guess, but she personally suspected that half of them just wanted to take advantage of the Weyr's hospitality. She wouldn't have minded except that she still hadn't managed to get a fitting for her new dress and she couldn't possibly attend the hatching gather in the same gown as she'd worn last time.  She was so lost in her thoughts, as she bustled through the door, that she was almost knocked over by A'lex as he charged down the corridor towards her kitchen.

He was perspiring freely, breathing heavily as though he had run clear across the Weyr, yet his face was almost white rather than flushed with his exertions.

"Are you alright?" Mora asked, as she noticed A'lex's over-pale face. 

A'lex blushed guiltily at her question, two high spots of red appearing in his otherwise colorless cheeks, and he wondered whether it was *that* obvious that he'd just 'timed it'. He'd felt weak, shaky and slightly nauseous since the moment he and Seth had materialized over the hatching ground of the future, as though a force had immediately begun to drain the life-energy out of him. Even Seth had faltered in the air, momentarily struggling to remain airborne, and only the fact that the air was full of dragons had prevented anyone noticing them during their struggle to stay aloft. Still, he was pretty sure his current feeling of illness had very little to do with his illicit timing and far more to do with the dreadful secret he'd discovered.

The ambitious, ruthless streak in A'lex was crowing about the knowledge. That side of him wanted to leap up and punch the air in triumph. He still had two weeks to get used to the idea, two weeks head start to get the new Queen rider firmly under his spell, and no-one would ever guess that he'd *known* what was going to happen at the hatching. Yet, there was a softer, gentler side to A'lex too. It was a part of himself that he usually only shared with Seth. That side of A'lex felt almost nauseous with a strange combination of pity and dread. The new Queen was about to turn tradition on its head and inadvertently throw her chosen rider into a maelstrom of conflict and confusion.

"I'm okay," he told Mora. "Just feeling a little flu-ish."

She smiled at him with sympathy. "Seth being proddy again?" she asked.

"When isn't he these days?" A'lex sighed. "I…um…I came to apologize, Mora."

"Apologize?" Mora repeated, looking at A'lex in disbelief.

"The other morning I was foul," A'lex admitted, dropping his face towards his boots.

"You were," Mora agreed, smiling to take away the sting of her words. "But you don't need to apologize to me. I'm well aware it wasn't really your fault."

"I know," A'lex agreed. "But it wasn't you I wanted to apologize to as much as Fox. I think I really scared him."

"Did your Uncle Sk'nar tell you to apologize to him?"

"No. I…I…um…well, I just felt bad about what I'd said. Is Fox here?"

"Yes," Mora admitted cautiously, her eyes carefully gauging A'lex's face for sincerity. It wasn't that she didn't trust him exactly but, since she was already late for the fitting of her gather-dress, she couldn't stay and supervise the visit. She knew only too well the trouble that two teenage boys could get into, even without the added problem of horny dragons.  "If I let you in my kitchen, you'd better behave yourself," she warned. 

"Of course," A'lex agreed, with an angelic smile. Then he skipped around her ample hips and into the warm cavern that served as the hold's kitchen. The drudge, Fox, was curled up by the side of the vast hearth, his head bowed over a book.

"I thought you couldn't read," he said, then regretted the blunt comment when Fox looked up warily and flinched slightly as though expecting a blow.

"I can't," Fox finally admitted, his cheeks flushing, "but I'm trying to learn."

"By yourself?" A'lex asked, impressed despite himself.

"Well, Mora helps me when she has time and Brown Rider Sk'nar leant me this book because it has so many pictures in it that it's easy to sort of follow anyway…" Fox's voice trailed off uncertainly, as though he was expecting A'lex to laugh at his efforts.

Sk'nar had kindly explained to Fox that his only potential future in the Weyr was working with the wherry-beasts, and *that* profession hardly required an ability to read. Still, Sk'nar had applauded Fox's desire to learn anyway. He'd said that whatever a person's *job* in the Weyr, they were given the respect of equals by fellow servants and dragon riders alike. Fox couldn't truly imagine that Sk'nar was right. Drudges were drudges, Lords were Lords and dragon-riders were a breed apart. Fox suspected that the riders were polite to their servants out of kindness rather than true respect, but he still wanted to be able to converse with them as though he was an educated person, even if he would never get the opportunity to do anything with that learning.

Besides, Samantha was a dragon-rider now and Fox didn't want her to feel embarrassed by him. Sk'nar had been surprised that Fox had made so little fuss about having to wait to see his long-lost sister, but Fox knew that was just because the rider didn't understand how it felt to know you were worthless. The truth was that Fox was terrified Samantha would either reject him outright or, at best, allow him to stay only out of some sense of duty.

During all the turns Fox had dreamt of finding Samantha, it had never before occurred to him to wonder how she might feel to have an illiterate, virtual stranger turn up on her doorstep. After two weeks of sitting in the Weyr with nothing to do except eat, sleep and think, Fox's imagination had begun to suggest it wasn't only his dreams of becoming a rider himself that had been pure fantasy. Samantha was a dragon-rider now, as important as any Hold Lady, and Fox couldn't imagine her seeing him as anything but an unwelcome reminder of her far less illustrious past. 

"So you've been reading that same book for two weeks?" A'lex asked.

Fox nodded nervously.

"I bet you're bored as hell."

Fox gave wary shrug of agreement.

"So let's go do something more interesting, huh?" A'lex offered. "Or do you want to spend your whole life sitting in a kitchen?"

"I'd like to go outside," Fox admitted quietly.

"So let's do it. Come on, what you waiting for?" A'lex demanded impatiently. "You got another friend you'd rather be with?"

"Friend?" Fox repeated, blinking in confusion.

A'lex smiled winningly. "Why not?"

"Did Sk'nar tell you to be nice to me?" Fox asked suspiciously, peering deeply into A'lex's eyes as though they might reveal what the younger boy was really up to.

A'lex gave him a wounded look. "Look, I'm trying to apologize here. It's not something I've had a lot of experience of, so give me a break."

"Sorry," Fox mumbled guiltily.

A'lex shrugged. "You wanna go see the hatching ground?"

"The hatching ground?" Fox gasped. "Are people allowed to go there?"

"No," A'lex admitted. "But there's an old tunnel that can get us most of the way without anyone seeing us. We should be okay. 'Sides, what's the worst that can happen if we're caught?"

"I don't know," Fox replied ruefully, "but I have a feeling that you'll make sure *I'll* get the blame if we are."

"What are friends for?" A'lex laughed, then grabbed his arm. "Live a little, drudge-boy, or are you too scared?"

"I'm not scared," Fox lied proudly.

"Come on then."

"But...but what about the Queen?"

"My mom fed Ttamth so much this morning that she'll sleep for hours. Besides, Seth will keep guard for us and let us know if she starts to wake up. We're just going to take a quick look, aren't we? What harm can we do?"

"I don't know," Fox replied, chewing his lower lip worriedly. "Mora said I'm not supposed to go anywhere except here and my own room."

"Only because everyone's worried you'll get propositioned by a horny rider. Don't worry. If any one tries to touch you, I'll protect you."

"Yeah?" Fox asked dryly. "But who's gonna protect me from *you*?" 

To his surprise, instead of taking offence, A'lex seemed to find his comment hilarious. The younger boy laughed until tears ran down his cheeks. Watching A'lex laughing so hard that he was hugging his stomach as though he was in pain, Fox felt his own mouth twitching too. Cautious laughter bubbled up his own throat. The sensation was unfamiliar but pleasant and, although he still didn't really trust A'lex, he found himself agreeing to follow him out of the kitchen.

"She's so beautiful," Fox gasped, " and HUGE!"

"Shhhh," A'lex whispered, pressing his finger to his lips warningly as they tip-toed past the slumbering Queen.  It wasn't until they were a good dragon-length away from her and creeping over the almost uncomfortably warm sand that lead to the hatching ground that he spoke again.  "Queens are the largest dragons," he explained, in a low voice. "They're a good head-span longer than even the biggest bronze dragons."

"I've only been this close to Freyth and Cerith," Fox admitted. "I haven't even seen a bronze except in the air."

"You'll have to come and meet Seth then," A'lex offered casually. "He's still growing, of course, but he's already larger than Freyth," he added with obvious pride.

"You're so lucky," Fox said dreamily. "Being a dragon-rider must be the most wonderful thing in the world."

"You think so?" A'lex asked, his face showing only polite interest.

"I can't really imagine it," Fox admitted, "but just the thought of it amazes me."

"I like the freedom," A'lex agreed. "Being able to go anywhere I like, whenever I like."

"Yes," Fox agreed, "but it's more than that. The idea of having someone who is always there, who always listens and understands you. It must be wonderful. Is it really true that dragons suicide if their rider's die?"

A'lex's face clouded.

"I'm sorry," Fox blurted.

"No, it's okay," A'lex said. "You're right and it isn't a taboo subject. It just hurts to think about it. The death of a dragon is a terrible thing. Most riders take *their* lives if their dragons die. The bond is too close for either rider or dragon to survive the separation."

"But it must be worth it," Fox breathed.

"Yes," A'lex replied softly, his eyes going distant in a way that Fox had often witnessed on Sk'nar's face.

"You're talking to Seth now?" he asked.

"He sensed I was upset and wanted to check I was alright," A'lex explained, with a smile.

Fox swallowed the ball of jealousy that rose in this throat to choke him as he wondered how it felt like to know that someone even cared if he was upset. He forced a smile on his face though. A'lex was being so surprisingly nice that Fox didn't want to seem ungrateful for the time they were spending together.

"Look," A'lex said, as they stepped out of Ttamth's weyr and emerged onto the edge of the hatching ground.

Fox's eyes went wide with shock and he gasped in amazement.

"They're huge."

"Of course they are. Even a hatchling dragon is larger than a full-sized runner-beast," A'lex laughed.

Fox inched forward towards the dragon eggs. Even the smallest were as long as he was tall and, although they were all a speckled off-white in color, they were dusted with a myriad of jeweled tones that sparkled in the sunlight. Set slightly apart was a single egg that dwarfed the others.

"The Queen?" Fox asked reverently, swaying before it as though desperate to reach out and touch the sparkling surface.

"Go ahead if you want to," A'lex urged. "You can't harm her."

Fox gulped heavily. He was sure they were already breaking countless rules by even being on the hatching ground. Actually touching the egg seemed like sacrilege. Yet, at the same time, a little of his old familiar anger stirred deep inside. His whole life had been nothing more than a series of rules, of privileges denied, of dreams never realized. What did he have to lose? He couldn't impress a dragon himself. Even if he lived the rest of his life in the Weyr he would simply be staring from the sidelines with envy and awe at those, like A'lex, who were deemed worthy of a dragon's touch. 

So, although his hands were trembling with fear, he reached out and pressed his fingertips reverently against the warm, slightly-soft texture of the dragon-egg. Then, when the ground didn't split open and swallow him, when the air didn't fill with the sound of rampant vengeful dragons set on tearing him apart for his temerity, Fox inched forward a little more until his body was flush with the egg. Then he rested his forehead against the pulsing egg, closing his eyes and listening to nothing except his own rapid heartbeat and a faint echo of life that throbbed inside the egg.

It hurt. Not the heat of the egg, but the way his over-active mind allowed him to visualize the egg cracking open, the hatchling emerging, her voice blasting into his mind as she accepted his worship as her due and rewarded him with her own. It hurt so much to touch what he couldn't have, to dream of what would never happen, that he moaned in near agony and tears of sorrow began to trickle down his cheeks.

Yet none of the regret was that he had come to the hatching ground. No matter how painful it was to face the shattering of his own fantasies, Fox's heart still soared. Sometimes truth was bitter to swallow, yet there was freedom in facing it.

/I don't suppose you can hear me/ he whispered inside his mind. /And even if you can, I don't expect you to care. But...but I love you, little Queen and I thank you for letting me touch you.  For the rest of my life, although I know I'll probably never even see you again except from a distance, I'll never forget this moment./

A frantic hand on his shoulder shook him from his daze of happy sadness.

"Seth says we've got to get out of here," A'lex urged. "Come on."

He grabbed Fox by the arm and began to drag him from the hatching ground. Fox was silently crying too hard to see where he was going, so he followed A'lex in blind faith as they stumbled over the sand, into the cavern and past the Queen dragon who was slowly starting to wake from her slumber.  They didn't stop until they were deep into the secret tunnel.

Collapsing in a breathless heap, A'lex started to laugh.

"That was *too* close," he gasped. 

"I...I shouldn't have touched her, should I?" Fox asked, when he finally caught his own breath.

"Nope," A'lex agreed. "But no-one will ever know, so what's the harm?"

"I felt her," Fox said, his voice quiet with awe. "It was like our heartbeats joined for a moment."

"Did you talk to her?" Alex asked, with studied casualness.

Fox blushed and nodded.

"That's okay," Alex assured him. "It's probably just an old-wives-tale, anyway."

"What is?"

"That you can influence a dragon's choice of candidate by touching the egg."

"WHAT?" Fox screeched. "What have I done?"

"Nothing," A'lex assured him. "It's not like *you're* a candidate yourself, is it? So what difference could you make?"

Fox took a deep breath and forced his hammering heart to slow down.

"You're right," he agreed, with relief. "I'm not even a girl."

"Exactly," A'lex smiled. "Come on, let's get you back to the kitchen before Mora notices you went missing."

"I don't understand," Seth said petulantly. "I wouldn't have agreed to stand look-out if I hadn't known it made no difference whether he touched the egg or not."

"I know," A'lex agreed, with a secretive smile.

"So why frighten him like that?"

"Because there may come a time when I'll need a little extra persuasion with him. Secrets are always good motivators, aren't they? There will be such a scandal when he impresses that he won't dare ever admit that he touched the egg and he won't want to risk *me* saying anything about it."

"I thought your plan was to make him fall in love with you, not blackmail him," Seth argued.

"It is," A'lex agreed. "But I believe in hedging my bets."

"You are a truly ruthless person, my rider," Seth announced.

"Is that a note of censure I detect in your voice?" A'lex asked.

Seth chuckled.

"Remember, A'lex. It was *I* who chose *you*."

"We're a team." 

"A 'Weyr-leading' team," Seth replied.

"Yeah," A'lex agreed, with a wide grin.

Fox slept badly that night. Every time he closed his eyes he found himself back on the hatching ground, leaning against the egg, talking to the hatchling within. Except, in his dreams, it wasn't A'lex's hand that had shaken him back to reality. In his dreams it was Ttamth herself who had broken his reverie with a blood-curdling scream of promised  vengeance for his act of sacrilege.

The next morning, his appetite was so poor that Mora fretted and worried over him like a clucking hen, constantly checking his temperature and frowning at his haggard face and dark-rimmed eyes.

"Perhaps I should call the healer," she suggested.

Fox's eyes flared with panic.

"I'm fine, really. I...I just slept badly."

"Did something happen yesterday?" Mora demanded suspiciously.

Fox froze in terror.

"Ha...happen?" he stammered.

"Did A'lex upset you again? I noticed you were very quiet when I got back. Did he say anything he shouldn't have?"

"No," Fox protested, jumping to A'lex's defense. No matter how guilty he felt about touching the egg, he didn't blame A'lex. It wasn't as though A'lex had *made* him do it. Besides, for all his feelings of guilt, Fox didn't regret going to the hatching ground. Like he'd told the tiny queen, he'd never forget the experience and even if he was found out and thrown out of the Weyr in disgrace, he would still have that memory to cling on to. "A'lex is my friend," he told Mora, then ran out of words as the enormity of that statement hit him. He'd never had a friend before.

Seeing the sudden frown of confusion on Fox's face, Mora's worried look softened into an understanding smile.

"It's all just a little overwhelming, perhaps," she suggested. "Your life has changed so much in these past two weeks."

"Yes," Fox agreed.

"So, do you have any plans for today?" she asked gently.

"A'lex said he'd introduce me to Seth after he finishes his lessons this morning," Fox told her happily, then his face fell a little. "I mean, if that's okay," he added humbly.

"Of course it is," Mora smiled. "I'm so pleased you've made a friend."

She waited until Fox had settled next to the hearth with his book, then made her excuses and hurried towards Sk'nar's room, hoping he hadn't yet left the Weyr. She knew his wing were busy collecting visiting dignitaries from the far-off holds. Fortunately, she caught him before he had finished his breakfast.

Sh'ron noticed her first and rose to give her a gracious bow.

"Good morning, Mora."

"And to you both," Mora answered, as Sk'nar also rose to greet her.

"Is there a problem with Fox?" Sk'nar asked, seeing Mora's worried expression.

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "I was hoping you might give me some advice."

"What's happened?"

"Nothing yet and perhaps nothing will, but my instincts tell me to worry regardless," Mora replied. "I don't want to cause any offence, so I thought I'd speak to you rather than D'von."

"So this is about A'lex?" Sk'nar asked, immediately making the connection.

"Yes. It might be nothing, and I *want* to be pleased for Fox, but it worries me that A'lex has suddenly started showing a lot of attention to him. He's even invited Fox to visit Seth today and you know yourself how intimate a gesture that is."

"What's Fox's reaction to A'lex's 'attention'?" Sk'nar asked, with a thoughtful frown.

"He said A'lex is his 'friend'."

"Well, that sounds innocent enough," Sh'ron interrupted.

"Except that A'lex is seventeen, has a proddy dragon and is currently as horny as all get-out," Sk'nar reminded him dryly.

"Oops," Sh'ron mumbled.

"That's exactly *my* worry," Mora agreed. "It's not that I blame A'lex. He's just following his instincts and at least he's now wooing the boy now instead of terrorizing him. Still, I think Fox is too innocent to handle A'lex's interest."

Sk'nar sighed loudly.

"I agree," he said, then raised a quelling hand at Mora's look of relief. "But I won't interfere unless Fox shows any indication that he's unhappy with the situation. I've spoken to Fox about this subject. Not about A'lex but about sex in general. He agreed that the best thing would be for him to experience a relationship before facing the kind of wildness that occurs on mating flights. While I agree A'lex is a little out of control at the moment, he's certainly less likely to frighten Fox than a rider in full dragon-lust."

"A gentle boy like Fox might be good for A'lex too," Sh'ron suggested. "There's going to be a lot of tension in the Weyr over the next couple of years and A'lex is a volatile boy."

"He's just high-spirited," Sk'nar replied, defensively.

"I know," Sh'ron soothed. "But he has a tendency to get into fights, doesn't he? I think a relationship with someone as sensitive as Fox will force him to calm down and think before he acts."

"You're right," Sk'nar said thoughtfully. "Besides, Fox might be sensitive but he's not as vulnerable as he appears. There's a core of solid steel inside him. There has to be for him to have run away from Mulder so many times. I think A'lex will be in for a surprise if he imagines Fox is easy to tame."

Go to Part Two