Brekke is tired.

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Brekke is tired.
Headcanon soundtrack - Dragonriders of Pern
The two antagonists were dimly aware of the scurry behind them, of tables pulled roughly aside to give the duelists space. F’lar could spare no glance at the crumpled form of the drudge, yet he was sure, through and beyond instinct sure, that she was the source of power. He had felt it as she entered the room. The dragons’ roaring confirmed it. If that fall had killed her . . . He advanced on Fax, leaping away to avoid the slashing blade as Fax unwound from the crouch with a powerful lunge. F’lar evaded the attack easily, noticing his opponent’s reach, deciding he had a slight advantage there. He told himself sternly that wasn’t much advantage. Fax had had much more actual hand-to-hand killing experience than had he whose duels had always ended at first blood on the practice floor. F’lar made due note to avoid closing with the burly Lord. The man was heavy-chested, dangerous from sheer mass. F’lar must use agility as a weapon, not brute strength. Fax feinted, testing F’lar for weakness or indiscretion. The two crouched, facing each other across six feet of space, knife hands weaving, their free hands, spread-fingered, ready to grab. Again Fax pressed the attack. F’lar allowed him to close, just close enough to dodge away with a backhanded swipe. He felt fabric tear under the tip of his knife and heard Fax’s snarl. The overlord was faster on his feet than his bulk suggested, and F’lar had to dodge a second time, feeling the scoring of Fax’s knife across his heavy wher-hide jerkin. Grimly the two circled, looking for an opening in each other’s defense. Fax plowed in, trying to turn his weight and mass to advantage against the lighter, faster man by cornering him between raised platform and wall. F’lar countered, ducking low under Fax’s flailing arm, slashing obliquely across Fax’s side. The overlord caught at him, yanking savagely, and F’lar was trapped against the other man’s side, straining desperately with his left hand to keep the knife arm up. F’lar brought up his knee, timing a sudden collapse with that blow. He ducked away as Fax gasped and buckled from the pain in his groin. F’lar danced away, sudden fire in his left shoulder witness that he had not escaped unscathed. Fax’s face was red with bloody anger, and he wheezed from pain and shock. But F’lar had no time to follow up the momentary advantage, for the infuriated Lord straightened up and charged. F’lar was forced to sidestep quickly before Fax could close with him. F’lar put the meat table between them, circling warily, flexing his shoulder to assess the extent of his injury. The slash felt as if it had been scored by a brand. Motion was painful, but the arm could be used. Suddenly Fax seized up a handful of fatty scraps from the meat tray and hurled them at F’lar. The dragonman ducked, and Fax closed the distance around the table with a rush. Instinct prompted F’lar to leap sideways as Fax’s flashing blade came within inches of his abdomen. His own knife sliced down the outside of Fax’s arm. Instantly the two pivoted to face each other again, but Fax’s left arm hung limply at his side. F’lar darted in, pressing his luck as the Lord of the High Reaches staggered. But F’lar misjudged the man’s condition and suffered a terrific kick in the side as he tried to dodge under the feinting knife. Doubled with pain, F’lar rolled frantically away from his charging adversary. Fax was lurching forward, trying to fall on him, to pin the lighter dragonman down for a final thrust. F’lar somehow got to his feet, attempting to straighten up to meet Fax’s stumbling charge. His very position saved him. Fax overreached his mark and staggered off balance. F’lar brought his right hand over with as much strength as he could muster, and his knife blade plunged through Fax’s unprotected back until he felt the point stick in the chest plate. The defeated Lord fell flat to the flagstones, the force of his descent dislodging the dagger from his chest bone so that an inch of the bloody blade reemerged from the point of entry.
- Dragonflight
My depiction of F'lar and bronze Menemoth
Fandom: Dragonriders of Pern
Sample Size: 193 stories
Source: AO3
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: F'lar [Dragonriders of Pern], F'nor [Dragonriders of Pern] Additional Tags: 5 Things, Canon Compliant, Drabble Sequence, Present Tense Summary:
Five moments that affirmed F'lar's belief in self because of his brother's faith.
Thanks for bearing with me, followers, as I spam doodles from a somewhat trashy, half-century old book about dragons and the clumsiest feminism you’ve ever seen. ._.
"As the bronze dragon charged, flaming, F’lar tightened his knees on the massive neck. Mother of us all, he was glad that now, of all times conceivable, he, F’lar, rider of bronze Mnementh, was a dragonman of Pern!"
And then it ended with this?? really?? way to undermine everything Lessa did & just center Mr Arrogant & his dreams lmao. at this point idek what the main point of the story was, to paint F'lar as a hero who did not do most of the work but could take credit for it or what?? & where does this go for them? I'm also completely lost in how they came to trust & start missing each other, there was no should i say pacing or details on to how their relationship came to be better or came from Lessa's utmost dislike of F'lar to Her nw missing him when she went four hundred turns back in time. how did they get there? idek want to talk abt how she was so scared she was going to be punished (the shaking) by him throughout her stay in between. It's clear F'lar's opinion of Lessa hasn't changed at all, he still thinks of her as less(?might nt be the right word) & expects her to still follow his lead & not question anything. he openly belittles her in front of guests even when it's clear their relationship was better so🤷🏾♀️.
Thoughts on Lessa
So after Ramoth's first mating flight, F'lar and Lessa are carried away by the passions of their dragons and...
yada yada yada...
Later, F'lar thinks to himself that he wished for Lessa to not have been a virgin (wow was that an exercise in unique English verb tenses) before the flight because, in his mind, that's why she's less sexually open with him and not emotionally committed to him.
I think the status of her virginity is the least important part of her "innocence" here. She's an adult who has spent half of her life, from the age of eleven onward, without social peers, education, or agency. McCaffrey writes her as a fully functioning adult person at the ripe age of 21? 22? with straight up zero life experience other than a murder and a lot of scheming.
She doesn't know how to tell a joke or hold someone's hand, let alone understand the mechanics or emotional weight (or lack) in sex. Like, she's not just sexually inexperienced, she has zero emotional intelligence, and zero personal maturity. Some of these facets are written really well, like her inability to identify or sit with her own emotional state...and the resentment of feeling made fun of when she doesn't understand what's happening around her. But to have all that boiled down to "well too bad her first time was violent," is...so icky.
I don't think F'lar is actually a lot older than she is in years, there's a throwaway line that he looks just a couple of years older than Lessa. But in experience? Maturity? He's at least a decade ahead.