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2023-07-07
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Responsibilities of a Weyrwoman

Summary:

The first night after F'lar becomes Weyrleader he has plans for his evening that Lessa doesn't know about.

Notes:

This isn't exactly canon, but was inspired by F'lar's thought in Dragonflight:
"He had been a considerate and gentle bedmate ever since[ the mating flight], but, unless Ramoth and Mnementh were involved, he might as well call it rape."
It seemed to me he had no idea what the word considerate meant, so this is my interpretation.

Work Text:

Lessa walked into her chamber from the bathing room, drying her hair, and was surprised to find F’lar waiting in her chamber. Mnemonth and Ramoth were both sound asleep in their caverns and needed nothing, so he couldn’t be coming to get her to tend to some emergency of the dragons’. Could he want to talk about the Red Star’s coming now that he was finally Weyrleader and could act more freely in Pern’s defense? But then, he’d never given her opinion much weight in the past, so it was too much to hope that he had come to talk to her about such things so late at night.

“Are you finally going to come to bed?” he drawled, letting his eyes linger over her body, which was not much covered by the towel.

Lessa wrapped herself tighter, trying for some modesty. He’d seen everything the day before, but that had been different. They’d both been out of their minds with their dragons’ lust during the mating flight and afterward. It hadn’t really been her having sex with him, nor had he been himself. Which was good, because he’d hurt her badly enough with the combination of his unbridled enthusiasm and her lack of any prior experience that she’d be quite angry at him if he’d had any more choice than her in what they’d done.

“In another hour. I wanted to look over some of the old records for more information about the Red Star. Now that I’m finally truly Weyrwoman, Manora gave me the keys to the record room.”

“That can wait until tomorrow. I’m going to bed and my Weyrwoman ought to come with me.”

Lessa stared at him for a second, not understanding, and then the horrible realization of what he wanted came.

“I’m not your Weyrwoman. I’m the Weyrwoman. The only one on the entire planet. I’ll go to bed when I like.” She lifted her chin, wishing that she wasn’t so much shorter than him. Or failing that, that she still had the muscle she’d developed as a drudge. Alas that it had withered away as she sat around being educated on her duties for the past two years. But something about her ought to match her newly intimidating title.

F’lar shook his head, as if he was chiding a child. “But I am the only Weyrleader on the planet. Everyone in the Weyr is mine now that Mnementh and Ramoth are mated. Especially you.” He took a couple steps towards her and grabbed her wrist, dragging her along the corridor to his own bedchamber even as she tried to pull away.

“You can’t force me to do anything. What would F’nor think? Or R’gul?” Her voice carried down the hallway, but it was late enough most of the other dragonriders would be sleeping. As the seconds passed and he continued to haul her along, her hope of someone checking to see what the matter was faded.

He stopped and pushed her against the wall just inside his doorway, caging her in with his broad, muscled body. “F’nor is my brother and wingrider, and most of all, he and every other dragonrider know the duties of the Weyrwoman. Didn’t R’gul teach you that everyone in the Weyr must defer to the Weyrleader?”

“He must not have had time to cover the politics of the bedroom while he was imparting all of the teaching sagas to me,” she spat, shoving against his chest with her free hand. Of course, she couldn’t move him an inch.

He huffed a laugh and captured her wrists, holding them above her head against the wall. The towel dropped to the floor and he took the opportunity to run a proprietary hand up her stomach to her breasts.

“I know he also didn’t have time to teach you to ride Ramoth, or to jump Between. I could rectify that lapse in duty if only you fulfill yours.” He grinned at her, thinking that the threat of not getting to fly, which she’d been feverish to do for two years, would get her over her reluctance.

“I’ll just jump on my own!” she snarled, writhing but unable to break his grip.

He paled at the thought of her jumping Between with no training and not coming out the other side. He could just picture the only queen dragon on all of Pern lost in that frozen void forever. He dropped her hands in favor of gripping her shoulders to give her a hard shake. “You wouldn’t dare endanger Ramoth in some stunt. Don’t you ever suggest that again.”

She yelped as her head knocked into the stone wall behind her. “I won’t hurt Ramoth. I’ll get some other dragonrider to teach me,” she said, her voice low but determined.

F’lar scoffed. “You know as well as I do that when I spoke in council today, every man there waited on my words, and no one so much as looked at you. If you want anyone’s help, it will be by my allowance. If you’re cooperative, perhaps I’ll even let you have the power to carry out some of your schemes.”

“I don’t need to speak in council to have power,” Lessa snapped. “You saw the ruin I managed to make of Ruatha as a child. Imagine what I could do to this Weyr with all that experience.”

“You’d endanger the entire planet in some childish game to get out of your responsibilities? The harpers could compose ‘The Ballad of Lessa, who turned the whole world to thread’ if only there were any left alive in a year!” He shook her repeatedly as he spoke, trying to rid her of all these apocalyptic notions. All he wanted was for his Weyrwoman to join him in his bed as every woman before her had for thousands of years, and she was threatening to destroy the world to have her way. He was done waiting to talk sense into her; she clearly had none tonight. Instead, he shoved her onto the bed.

F’lar stripped off his clothes as he walked towards her, his movements lazy with the knowledge that she wasn’t going anywhere. Her wide, terrified eyes and rapid breathing excited him beyond the fight it had taken to get her here. It was almost as good as a mating flight, the thrill of the chase and the knowledge that he was strong enough to take what he wanted.

Lessa scrambled backwards on her hands as he came forward, wishing she could retreat through the wall. Fleeing was hopeless, of course. She was cornered, dizzy, and weak. No one would help her, just as he’d said. And he was right to call her bluff, since she wasn’t quite willing to destroy the Weyr, Pern’s only hope of salvation, to avoid his bed. Since she had no possibility of escape, she knew it would be easier if she just let him have his way, but she couldn’t bring herself to.

He grabbed her ankle to pull her flat on her back, even as she tried to kick at him. She clawed at his skin as he climbed on top of her, leaving a few red scratches across his chest and arms before he managed to pin her hands above her head again.

“You’re making this harder on yourself,” he warned. Despite all of her theatrics, he felt a little sorry that she’d been hurt so much yesterday due to her inexperience. With the way she was carrying on, she was going to be hurt as much again today. It would likely take weeks or months before she truly accepted and looked forward to this part of her role. But he was sure that she would get there given practice.

He positioned himself between her legs and she cried out as he shoved himself in, his length only half buried in her as her body clenched around him, trying to stop the intrusion.

“Stop, please stop!” she whimpered.

“It will get better,” he soothed her. “You’ll like it even.” He pulled back and pushed in again a little further.

“You’re hurting me–”

“Hush, and focus on relaxing.”

“Pl–” She only got out half a word before his mouth descended on hers. She twisted her face away from the kiss and he let go of her wrists to grip her neck and force her face back to his. He squeezed, making it impossible for her to breathe.

“Cooperate, or this is going to be worse.”

She struggled and pushed at him even as her lungs burned but when her vision started to darken, she recognized that his unspoken threat was in earnest. She lay her hands still at her sides in surrender, tears trailing down her cheeks.

“Good girl,” he muttered. “I didn’t think you were that slow a learner.” He let up on her throat and she gasped a single breath before his lips were on hers again, his tongue invading her mouth and his teeth biting her lip to bleeding when she didn’t respond to him. All the while he showed no mercy, continuing to ram into her until he was fully seated, the abrasion causing her to tear and bleed as she had the day before.

His pace increased as he pursued his release, his hands gripping her hips with bruising force. Her body slowly adjusted so that the burning pain of his assault lessened, but it still seemed an eternity to her until he finished hot and wet inside her. He pulled out of her almost gently, at odds with his aggression up to that point. And when he rolled off of her, he curled her against his chest as if they were lovers.

“I hate you,” she sobbed into him, unable to contain the words. She didn’t dare pull away lest he do something more to her, but she couldn’t quietly acquiesce to his false affection either.

“Eventually you’ll learn to love me,” he murmured, and closed his eyes to sleep.