fade to black. [tags; s'rei]

[Requiem]

S'rei's lips pressed together mildly, eyes flicking to Worm and Ophelie for a second before he just...shrugged. Of course Ka'rys didn't know him at all now, couldn't know that the statement he decided to latch onto had been a self-deprecating one. Couldn't know that any sign of upset was unusual. The older bronzerider was never open, but he'd felt at least moderately comfortable with Ka'rys and that was effecting how he was dealing with the man now. He couldn't treat him the same, and expecting Ka'rys to be the same was just ludicrous. Shards, he was beginning to fall apart, which wasn't at all good. Given to explosive behavior...it didn't take much when he was on edge, and he had been for months now.

Standing and drifting to a wall slightly farther away to keep some amount of distance between him and the other bronzerider, the man leaned against it, watching the two idly. Convenient, that they knew each other. Inconvenient, that all Ka'rys knew of him was the fool mistake he'd made as a teenager. Ground zero. Worse, actually, because he'd never been working from such a hole with Ka'rys before. Why, he wasn't sure. He just hadn't. This level of hostility - had never been given to him. Or was it always there, just hidden better? Rubbing at his face, he considered calling it a day, because he wasn't sure he could deal with the other man right now on top of everything else and Ciceroth and Salenth both seemed to think (he couldn't really disagree) that Ka'rys's injuries were more a matter of circumstance than anything calculated. He should be fine left alone.

It was highly inconvenient to have his feelings involved where Ka'rys was concerned. S'rei could block out most of Worm's adoration and protectiveness of Ophelie...but not all. And he was doing significantly worse at it right now than he usually did. It was distressing to see Ka'rys this hurt. Distressing for Ophelie to be so upset, because it had Worm near frantic. He had enough trouble dealing with losing anyone he was supposed to be responsible for, to keep safe, as it was, without these added emotions mixing in.

Glancing after the healer, S'rei responded softly, his voice and face regaining much of their usual control, "Brown." He went lax against the wall, letting it support him. "Impressed, what is it, three turns ago? Yeah. Healthy brown, split tail, good flier." He decided not to mention that R'wign wasn't healthy, so the brownrider didn't fly on the wings. Maybe later...if it came up. "He's the Weyrhealer here, if you're interested. Held this place together when our Weyrdragonhealer was out of commission." Ka'rys seemed interested in R'wign...undoubtedly due to this history they seemed to have.

Placing a palm against the wall, he rubbed a thumb along it idly. "We've got everything from poisonings, random disappearances that I still haven't been able to track down, and outright attacks to deal with here," S'rei commented softly. "That's why we can't have docile wingleaders who have never really fought before. The wings aren't solely for flaming Thread. Shouldn't be talking about this now, anyway. You're going to be here awhile." He hated explaining himself in general. It didn't actually matter to him what most people thought. He simply didn't care. They could formulate their own opinions. But he needed Ka'rys...or at least felt he did.

"I'm sorry I'm throwing all this at you so soon. You should rest. I'd leave you to Kalierre and R'wign, but R'wign's got a whole infirmary to run because she's..." roaring drunk after going through a miscarriage? "...indisposed." And he had the need to be sure Ka'rys was fine. Shardblasted salamandyr. He hated being this inordinately attached to another man, even if it wasn't nearly to the degree most people with mandyrs seemed to be effected.

It does, actually. Mine is trying but...I don't think he knows how to deal with Yours. We're all stressed. The bronze shifted slightly. He doesn't trust them so much that he likes that idea...but it may be our only real choice, Salenth added, a touch of his own discomfort leaking through.

[glamourie]

... oh. Ka’rys blinked, one hand coming up as though to scratch his head when his hand froze. Bandages everywhere. Fractured skull, R’wign had said. It made him wonder how severe the rest of his injuries were because he was betting (though not positive) that none of them were exactly minor. Part of his disorientation and confusion was simply that: he didn’t know how many injuries he had, how long he’d been unconscious, anything of the sort. Most of S’rei’s answers helped, but… seeing R’wign actually reinforced just how much time that he lost and he actually felt sick. Or was that from pain? Ka’rys wasn’t even really sure. The cot didn’t feel safe; in fact, his skin crawled at the prospect of being so unprotected. He couldn’t deny that it was immensely more comfortable than the floor though and his head was less swirly sitting there – not quite laying, but huddled under the blankets, woozy and uncomfortable. He hated that feeling of being unprotected so much. Ka’rys twitched slightly and he brought up one hand to rub the side of his face that hurt less. At least he was clearly more broken on one half than the other?

He didn’t comment on the wings. The thought upset him considerably and – even if S’rei was insistent – he didn’t feel he could be a wingleader. The idea made his heart thud too fast and he started feeling dizzy. He’d already said what he felt on the matter in the plainest manner he could think of and Ka’rys didn’t believe in repeating himself. If the only response S’rei had to all of his protests was to get irritated (and he’d been obviously annoyed), no amount of explaining would change that and it was worthless.

“Can you list off my injuries, please?” There was a definite edge of cold formality in those words, an intentional distance that made it very clear how unhappy he was. Still, it was polite if not in tone, but in organization. “R’wign said fractured skull; I can feel busted up ankle and a couple cracked ribs, and my right arm is in a cast, so I can deduce that’s broken – I can’t see all of the bruises and scuffs, and my vision is still somewhat blurry.” What he really was asking was how bad it really was. That R’wign left was, in many ways, a good sign. It meant that he wasn’t about to drop dead on the spot. But there was still a very throbbing headache and he hurt all over, a pain that was gradually becoming worse, and he wanted to know if there were worse injuries on his… face, back, and the places he couldn’t easily see. Not that he was sure if S’rei would know. Did he have internal bleeding? Unlikely, but still a possibility.

Wait, what did he mean… ‘but’? Ka’rys narrowed his eyes slightly. “Do you plan to just… linger then? It’s very obvious you aren’t enjoying this conversation any more than I am and neither of us is particularly fond of one another. The longer you stay, the more I’m just going to ask questions. I’d recommend running away faster.” He was ignoring the fact that the faster the fellis wore off, the more inclined to faint he was. He hurt all over in places that he didn’t even know he had. “I want my knives back. After everything you just listed, I think I deserve my knives back.” If S’rei expected him to be able to… function… without his weapons, he was very, very mistaken. Ka’rys was jumpy even with the blades. Without them he was likely to seriously hurt someone just out of momentary panic. Well, he would be if he wasn’t hurt. He was relatively harmless for the moment.

So distracted with S’rei was he that Ka’rys did not register when R’wign returned into the room; the healer did not stop to speak to the Weyrleader. If he kept distracting Ka’rys, giving him fellis would be easier. Ridiculous man hated any kind of painkiller because of the fact that they weakened his awareness… never mind that pain did that much, much more effectively. Stupid.

Rysmine would hate the idea too, Ciceroth said weakly, though he didn’t really see much else in the way of options… It’s… harder and easier. Before, Rysmine did not like Yours; he respected him for dealing with Aslath’s, because Aslath’s upset Mine very badly. He doesn’t remember that now. He only remembers the bad, not the good, and he doesn’t want to change that. He… he doesn’t know how to react to Yours, either. He’s scared, hurting, and he doesn’t trust him. I told him he can. I told him that Yours won’t harm him. He thinks that he will, and he will not listen to me. His tail swished and Ciceroth awkwardly fidgeted. He would feel better with his knives, but he might hurt one of the apprentices. He is jumpier without them, though. Does Yours intend to stay?

[Requiem]

S'rei eyed Ka'rys for a moment. "I can't. I don't know anything beyond what I can see." Actually by his own request, but that was beside the point. The healers weren't hovering over him like hens, he was conscious and not spouting nonsense - or, at least, he wasn't spouting any more nonsense than usual - and S'rei wasn't being fussed at to leave. Yet. So, as far as he could discern, Ka'rys was busted up bad but not too terribly dangerously. Either that or people were tiptoeing around their Weyrleader. Possible, but not likely. Neither R'wign nor Kalierre were likely to...spare him simply because his bronze was luckier when it came to pursuing golds than some.

S'rei didn't react to Ka'rys's comment. Did he intend to stay? Yes...possibly not in the room, though. Fond. Eh. Was he fond of Ka'rys? In a fashion. They weren't friends, never had been, and probably never would be. But that didn't make him any less protective of the man, something that would have been true whether Worm existed, whether Worm and Ophelie existed, or not. Ka'rys was his, in a sense, and he'd never taken kindly to anyone hurting what was his. Partly cause it represented a failure on S'rei's part. (And yes, it was easier to deal with this failure right now than the dozens of poisoned draconids.)

"You think you deserve them, hm?" A touch of dark humor slid behind the words. S'rei thought giving Ka'rys his knives was likely to end with someone getting stabbed. Then again, it might serve to keep the man from being quite so skittish...and a Fort rider could be dangerous without knives as well - even if it didn't seem like Ka'rys was strong enough to knock over a kitten. "In a moment, then. I'll have to flag down one of the apprentices to retrieve them." He'd just told the kid to put it in a place out of reach and out of sight, and wasn't precisely sure where they were himself.

Shifting to place one foot against the wall, he scratched at his calf idly. It didn't escape him that R'wign was being uncharacteristically quiet. "If you have questions, ask them. Can't know when you'll have access to me again. I can't stay here all the time." And he wouldn't, once his own concerns abated somewhat. Pausing, he cocked his head to one side, confusion briefly flickering behind his eyes. What? Aslath's? Of course he would deal with his own weyrmate, and what did that have to do with respect? Whatever. He'd never pretended he actually understood Ka'rys.

For awhile. The night, probably...but he's leaning toward staying outside the door and out of sight. Worrying again. Does that too much. Salenth curled a little tighter, tail flopping over his snout. It will likely be better when Yours has slept and doesn't hurt so much. What was there to say, really, to the admission of respect and dislike and what was remembered and what wasn't? It simply was. Changing it might be possible, but ReiHis wasn't worried about changing Ka'rys's perceptions right now. If he ever would be. As long as they could function at the head of the Weyr, S'rei had never cared much about being liked.

Sometimes, Salenth thought S'rei preferred it when he wasn't. Then, at least, you knew where you stood and there was no danger of falling further into a person's bad graces.

[glamourie]

“How helpful.” There was definitely sarcasm there. Ka’rys narrowed his eyes. Part of it was just general grumpiness (who, Ka’rys?) but part was nerves – someone needed to tell him how injured he was. He needed to know. It wasn’t a matter of being demanding without justification: didn’t he have the right to know how badly hurt he really was? Fractured skull. Was there more? The slightly mocking tone to S’rei’s voice didn’t help and he twitched, visibly, before dryly adding, “I think if you don’t give me my knives, someone is very likely to get hurt… because I’m jumpier without them than I am with them. Additionally, I can usually defend myself. I don’t know what happened to make me pathetic, but since I don’t remember it, I’m fairly certain I’d feel more comfortable with something to keep myself safe.” He didn’t feel safe. Technically, much of that stemmed from S’rei’s presence: no amount of comforting from Ciceroth could dissuade him and part of him wondered if S’rei wasn’t the reason for his injuries in the first place. He was certainly a better scapegoat than himself. Not to mention that he just… didn’t trust S’rei. S’rei was… not… no. He just didn’t.

Ouch. Blinking, the bronzerider turned to shoot R’wign a decidedly unpleasant look as his hand went down to rub his side. There was a slight sting – but it didn’t really hurt. “What did you just give me?” he asked, most assuredly suspicious; needlethorn always made him anxious though. Everyone had their little ticks. Ka’rys’s happened to be fear of needles. What of it?

“Fellis,” R’wign replied pleasantly, “because you won’t take painkillers if I ask, and the Weyrleader was being so kind in talking to you that I didn’t want to interrupt.” Total, utter bull, of course – like he cared if he interrupted. He just didn’t want to have to sit on Ka’rys to give him the shot. “It’ll start going into effect in ten minutes or so, so I recommend grilling S’rei before that. Afterwards, you probably won’t remember your questions. Weyrleader, try not to startle him out of bed again, would you? He weighs a lot more than he looks.” Turning back to Ka’rys, R’wign blinked. “Possibly more than I do, actually. I’ll leave you two be – and Ka’rys? You’re not getting your knives back until I know you’re not going to stab someone if they wake you up. That might annoy you, but I like my apprentices in one piece.”

He didn’t wait for S’rei’s response to that, because as far as R’wign was concerned, it was a moot point. Weyrleader or not, he wasn’t a healer…and he surely knew about Ka’rys’s waking up habits after the turns they’d known one another. R’wign knew because of who his weyrmate was and because of Ka’rys himself; he was assuming S’rei had found out through some other means. The brownrider turned on his toe and walked off, while Ka’rys watched him for a moment, obviously displeased. It was highly unlikely that R’wign would’ve cared, though.

Once R’wign was out of sight, Ka’rys looked back down at his side and rubbed it carefully. Questions. Right. Starting with, Why is he such a brat? Not that he was exactly qualified in calling anyone a brat, but still. S’rei’s words brought a slight smirk to his face. “Really.” That was a relief: he’d only been trying to get rid of him for the past ten minutes. As far as questions went… he couldn’t... think. He knew there was a lot that he didn’t know, but he didn’t know how to even begin. It felt strange that no questions sprang to mind immediately and Ka’rys crinkled his nose before asking softly, “Where is my daughter?” That seemed like a relatively safe, and logical, question. He did want to know…

I appreciate him caring. Ka’rys didn’t, but Ciceroth was logical enough to know that S’rei staying was caring, if in a weird manner. His likely saw it as hovering and being annoying. Staying outside the door might be better. He’s… not listening to me. I keep telling him Yours won’t harm him. He doesn’t believe me. There was a slight edge of annoyance in Ciceroth’s voice, guising the hurt he felt at his mindmate mistrusting him so. They’d always been close, but Ka’rys didn’t know what to make of him. He understood it, but… didn’t he know he always had his best interests in mind? He’s really cold, too. He won’t say it, but he feels really sick. Yours might be better to move… it would be unfortunate if he got sick on him.

[Requiem]

Watching the exchange between Ka'rys and R'wign with mild interest (he'd known they were associated, yes, but didn't realize they were as familiar as this seemed to suggest) the Weyrleader found his mind wandering. Between Worm's soft undercurrent of affection and commentary and the reports coming in from various dragons throughout the Weyr, it was easy to get lost in his head. He drummed his fingertips lightly against his thigh, directing Salenth whenever the bronze hesitated. Restoring order, getting definite numbers and securing Selenitas - as well as they could - against any attack that might take advantage of the chaos had to be top priority. Having a mindmate who could handle that mostly on his own, however...was a relief.

He glanced up as R'wign left, the flicker of confusion answered by Worm, who repeated what the healer said...in her peculiar broken way. She was remarkably good about remembering things. As long as you could decipher it. Ah, yes. It had slipped his mind, and he wasn't sure how it could have, except maybe that there was so much going on. Ka'rys did not wake up peacefully. (Not that he'd actually had occasion to witness that firsthand. Thank Faranth. S'rei's response to steel being brandished at him wasn't generally...good.)

"Kalerary. She spends a lot of time with R'wign, but since she clearly isn't here, I'd say Savitri or M'ta. Probably M'ta. She's not particularly fond of Savitri." The brownrider had saved the girl's life, at no small risk to himself, after she saved R'wign's. Kalerary had always been close to R'wign, but it was no small wonder that she'd also taken a liking to the healer's roommate, all things considered. S'rei didn't care to elaborate, though. He preferred people thinking he didn't keep that close track of things, though, really, it was Ka'rys and his family. S'rei was bound to have at least some interest in it. And, if he didn't, Worm was likely to tell him anyway.

Salenth pulled his mind from the issues at hand long enough to brush Ciceroth's reassuringly. Mine won't leave the infirmary for the night.

Glancing toward the door, S'rei eyed Ka'rys soberly for a long moment. "Was there anything else?"

[glamourie]

Didn’t like Savitri. Ka’rys tilted his head, inquisitive; his gaze was questioning, but his mind reeled. Maybe she felt her mother was replaced? He didn’t know – it would make sense, he supposed. He didn’t know anything about Savitri. Maybe Kalerary just didn’t like typical goldriders? He had a hard time imagining himself falling for one though. Maybe he wasn’t in love? Ciceroth’s mental snort at the mere thought indicated he was wrong, which confused him more. He would’ve asked, but part of him was… frightened of the prospect of seeing his daughter. Nearly ten turns. The last time he saw her she was cutting teeth. His stomach twisted into a knot at the prospect, and he forced his mind to a more comfortable topic – M’ta, the person she was with. “Who is M’ta?” he asked; he didn’t remember, obviously, and if he was going to trust someone with his child, he’d prefer it to be someone she liked. That might’ve been unfair or at the least, unkind to Savitri, but Ka’rys wasn’t sure he cared at that moment. Kale had to have a reason for not being terribly fond of the goldrider and he’d wrangle it out of her when he was… less intimidated by speaking to her, and also in less pain. R’wign made sense – M’ta, whoever that was, was a stranger.

He is your Healer’s mate, Ciceroth helpfully pointed out, which made Ka’rys turn his head toward the dragon curiously. Some of Ciceroth’s color was gradually coming back. The hatchling is with him. He is Behruth’s. Behruth’s will keep her safe. He values her almost as much as you do.

“I very sincerely doubt that.”

Ignoring that talking to his dragon out loud was unusual, Ka’rys reached up and rubbed his nose slightly. His gaze lingered on S’rei, but his vision had begun to blur. He wondered, briefly, how strong the fellis that the healer gave him was. Apparently pretty strong considering that it was already going into effect and he wanted very badly to curl up and go to sleep. Good night, good night. The only thing that kept him from passing out on the spot was paranoia and the bronzerider allowed himself to curl closer to the headboard of the bed. He didn’t like the idea of being defenseless around S’rei, even if Ciceroth kept insisting that he was fine. He kept swearing, even, that S’rei wasn’t a danger to him. Ciceroth had clearly lost his mind. The bronzerider crinkled his nose awkwardly.

“What does he mean, my healer’s mate?” he asked very softly, not sure he wanted to know. The words alone made him uncomfortable – and Ciceroth found it amusing. “R’wign is with a man?”

Thank you, Ciceroth replied to Salenth before adding, I’m grateful, even if he isn’t. Is there something I should be doing while Mine rests? He’ll go to sleep soon and be less annoying. He was holding out hope that after His rested, he would remember everything. It was fleeting; he knew better. Still, Ciceroth couldn’t let go of the lingering fantasy. His was hurt very badly, but he was more frightened by him not remembering than by the ouch. I hope anyway… the fellis is taking effect.

[Requiem]

S'rei pinched the bridge of his nose lightly at the question. Who is M'ta? The bronzerider didn't really know the short, young brownrider particularly well. He was closer - in whatever queer way that happened to be - to Ka'rys than he was to S'rei. The Weyrleader really hadn't even known he really existed beyond a name and a couple interesting stories before the siege. You tended to notice a man like M'ta after that.

"Well...all I really know about him is hearsay. He was - is - one of your wingmembers." S'rei figured keeping some people Ka'rys should be familiar with on his wing might jog his memory. Possibly. "Distinctive in appearance. Very short, shorter than most women, and darker than most southerners. He often has throwing knives strapped to his chest...looks to be in his late teens or early twenties." S'rei figured that a physical description, at least, would make it easy for Ka'rys to identify him in the future. Of course, Ciceroth could help with that. But it also gave S'rei time to consider the rest of his answer.

"He's northern, though Behruth was Hatched here. Got into a fight with you - I'm not sure why - when he was a candidate. You've a scar on your wrist from that. Behruth and R'wign's Checkoth are from the same clutch. They were roommates, and it seems they became friends. At any rate, they still live together now. Kalerary undoubtedly met him through R'wign. During the siege...when she was being chased...she found him. He risked his life to keep her safe, including getting his throat slashed and a nasty chest wound that festered. Never officially graduated from weyrlinghood - he was in the infirmary for six months after the siege due to the injuries - but we collectively allowed him to return as a full rider."

Which was really more or less the extent of S'rei's knowledge of the young man aside from rumors and intrigue. He figured it should explain why Kalerary spent her time with him, though - and hopefully put Ka'rys's mind at ease. If he was the friend of R'wign and had already risked his life for the girl...that should be reason enough not to worry about her being in his care right now.

S'rei tsked softly at Ka'rys's question. "That's the...rumor. I haven't seen anything firsthand to validate it. Although...my nephew did mention that R'wign had M'ta in his lap during the hatching of Ellie's - that's R'wign's gold firelizard - most recent clutch. So it's likely true. They do live together." While it was possible that two men could live together with nothing going on, it wasn't common. (Neither was two men living together, but S'rei tended to ignore that.)

If you could just check in with all the dragons on your wing, validate that no one's missing? Salenth responded, the words themselves somewhat distant with distraction. If you haven't already. I think we've accounted - one way or another - for almost everyone now.

[glamourie]

Wingmember. Right. Ka’rys lifted one hand and rubbed at his eyes, as best he could; he was horribly sore still. Some of the pain was beginning to dilute, which had Ka’rys’s eyes drooping shut despite himself. He didn’t want to fall asleep, not with S’rei there, but the diminishing pain was helpful in making him start to relax against himself. Cursed healer for giving him that shot. Curse him. The bronzerider focused on S’rei’s words as much as he could, and tried to commit the explanation of M’ta to memory. It was incredibly awkward. He made mental notations to sort through as a manner of remembering. The facts were thus:

Brownrider.
Fought with him.
Rider of Behruth.
Saved Kalerary’s life.
On his wing.

If he survived a fight with him and went on to save Kalerary, then he was good enough for Ka’rys. Nothing else mattered in comparison. He gave a slight nod in response, though his mind had trouble wrapping around the idea of his daughter being friends with someone who was… gay. Almost as much trouble as he had acknowledging R’wign to be. He’d known the boy since he was a child and he didn’t seem like the sort – maybe he did now? When he was younger he’d certainly seemed like a normal, if naïve, child. Ka’rys fidgeted and reclined backwards, his gaze never quite leaving S’rei’s face. It was definitely quizzical, especially as the weyrleader went on to explain what his nephew saw. His head tilted slightly to the side and Ka’rys clicked his tongue, looking thoughtful. His dark brown eyes lingered on S’rei, measuring, and he nodded as the bronzerider finished speaking.

“You pay a lot closer attention to your riders than you make obvious,” the younger of the two men said, his voice barely audible. “For someone who knows only hearsay, you seem to have heard a ridiculous amount. Do you always feign ignorance, and does it typically work on me? I find it hard to believe that it would.”

His head was positively spinning. Ka’rys rubbed his face still and then cast a half-measuring look to S’rei. He was serious: it was obvious S’rei was trying to hide how much he knew, and it made him very suspicious as to why. What did he hope to gain from such innocent acts? Maybe he was hoping to be underestimated. Well, if he was, he was underestimating him. Ka’rys didn’t buy most things and he always looked for suspicious behavior. S’rei was being very suspicious, in his not-so-humble opinion. Although his instinctive lack of trust in S’rei was likely part of it; he would have so calmly dismissed most anyone else. Even Ka’rys admitted that (privately).

They are all still here, Ciceroth said to Salenth secretively. For now. I can’t say that they are all healthy, but I think so. The bronze fluttered his wings anxiously and he inquired, The wings will have to be reorganized again. Who does Yours plan to replace Idith’s with…? It was curious – who would replace R’aro?

[Requiem]

The comment caught S'rei by surprise. He blinked, though that was the extent of the emotion his face revealed; the bronzerider wasn't a particularly expressive sort. Part of it was turns of conditioning. Part of it was the amnesia that had crippled him for so long.

"I don't know if it usually...works...on you." Which was an outright admission to the fact that, yes, S'rei didn't tend to reveal his hand. What he knew, what he was capable of. "The Ka'rys I know isn't nearly as open or direct as you are. Or...talkative, I should say. He does tend to be direct when he speaks. Did." It was a clear indication of how flatfooted Ka'rys had taken him, that he was that open about it, even as S'rei's words stumbled to an awkward halt.

What could it hurt though, really? Admitting the truth when Ka'rys already seemed so sure of it? It wasn't actually something expressly conscious that S'rei did, anyway. He thought about it for a moment. There was a definite sense of questioning behind the ex-Fortian's words, after all. "It was hearsay. I pay attention. It goes with the job, doesn't it? Knowing people...or at least enough about them to know where they might be used more effectively. It's really just...a habit, I suppose. Most people are more comfortable with a convenient lie, and they feel less nervous if I'm not threatening. Knowing things is threatening." He was being surprisingly truthful. Maybe it had something to do with the thought that Ka'rys was unlikely to remember much of the conversation when he woke again, and it was nice being able to tell someone. No risk of making Ka'rys's opinion of him any worse, after all.

That was the convenience of someone who hated you.

"It's actually somewhat surprising, how many people are so quick to believe it. Can only be because they want to." It didn't make any logical sense, otherwise, that he could be as 'harmless' as people assumed. Harmless bronzeriders didn't last, with the possible exception of Mi'rah. Certainly not in any position of authority. Neither did stupid ones.

Some small fortune, that, Salenth replied, devoting more of his attention to Ciceroth at the question. He's decided one of the wingseconds, instead of one of the bronzeriders. They at least have some experience leading a wing. Probably Ismaroth and His, to be honest. No other pair has shown themselves so capable. They can assist with training the newer pairs, if nothing else. Mine wants to work with Morreliath...groom him to take a wing a bit later. We shall see.

[glamourie]

Ka’rys tilted his head slightly, obviously curious; it wasn’t often that he kept his expression open, but being half-drugged made it very hard to pretend to be impassive. The bronzerider quirked his eyebrows in open fascination as S’rei answered… seemingly honestly; hm, he’d expected either dismissal or for his question to be dodged in some way. What he hadn’t expected was a seemingly honest answer. He did listen though, mentally noting S’rei’s explanation for what it was – and without the accusation on his face, for once. He honestly wasn’t sure how to react to… truthfulness, though. Ka’rys was someone who expected deception and responded to it accordingly and… he didn’t quite know how to respond to S’rei being honest with him. Being kind even. It made no sense, and part of him was guarded; however, most of him felt like a child being presented with something new and shiny for the first time, and he was analytically studying it to find out how it worked. S’rei was his shiny object.

“I don’t know what goes with Weyrleader or not. I’ve never been Weyrleader, remember?” Ka’rys asked softly; he didn’t respond to the statements about how he… was… because it was very, very awkward. “You’d know more than me that. My experience with leadership is questionable.” He was one of the most skilled interrogators at Fort, especially for his age bracket, but that didn’t really qualify since people skills didn’t tie into it very much. Just the ability to not show emotion, a strong stomach and very steady hands. Not the most qualifying skillset. “I’m not comfortable with it. I don’t like my intelligence challenged, and lies do just that. Ciceroth tells me that I dismissed you before. That’s likely why. I’m smart enough to know when I’m being fed runner dung and I don’t exactly like it. If you’re dead set on me being a wingleader for you, treat me with the courtesy of knowing that I can usually tell when I’m being lied to or indulged. I don’t like it, and I don’t want it done.”

Perhaps that was too blunt. It certainly wasn’t the most respectful response ever. Still, Ka’rys thought it was appropriate. He wasn’t sure he wanted to get along with S’rei – the man was his enemy, as far as Ka’rys was concerned – but he knew when his back was against a wall. If he had to talk to someone he hated, he’d much rather that someone be less offensive.

“People don’t question others in positions of power over them typically. I am just the exception to the rule.” He wasn’t afraid of S’rei, at least not enough to not speak his mind. If he was back at Fort, he wouldn’t have dared, but he wasn’t at Fort, and S’rei hadn’t earned his unquestioning loyalty. That was something that had to be worked toward, not given freely. Ka’rys was a good little soldier when he was loyal to a cause, but it took effort to earn that. Fort was home. It got that loyalty from him by default. What had S’rei done for him lately?

Ismaroth is a good choice. I will miss having him as my second; I trust him and Rysmine trusted His. But… Rysmine doesn’t remember him anyway, and he is qualified. Ciceroth didn’t form high opinions of other dragons very often, but he liked Ismaroth. He really did. Who will be seconding for us, if Ismaroth is moved? I favor browns over bronzes, if it helps Yours to decide; I do not typically like bronzes on my wing. At least he was honest. He didn’t flat out say no, either – Ciceroth didn’t want bronzes but he’d tolerate what was necessity. Maybe. Unless they started backtalking him in which case he’d eat their faces. Not his fault or problem. They had it coming.

[Requiem]

It seemed that his words had somehow managed to revitalize Ka'rys, at least for a short time; he didn't seem to be fading quite as quickly. Oh well. Only a matter of time, and then S'rei could flee the awkward situation. Shards if he was going to make his discomfort obvious, though. Much as he'd never been fully comfortable with Ka'rys - the man reeked of distrust, and, in S'rei's experience, that usually meant they themselves weren't trustworthy - he had been comfortable enough not to be on edge. Guarded, yes, but not on edge. Right now he felt like he was being studied before the dissection. Probably partly in his mind (S'rei wasn't used to open antagonism from someone who wasn't actively attempting to kill him) but still. It was what he felt. Not much you could do about how you felt.

"Actually, you were," he commented quietly, "though that's beside the point since you don't remember." S'rei hadn't said it to be contrary. Ka'rys might want to know...that he'd been the weyrleader at one point. Had the older bronzerider already mentioned it? He couldn't remember. Too many things going on at once to keep close tabs on this odd conversation.

A small, amused smile touched his lips. "I've never directly lied to anyone. Too hard to keep the stories straight." Closest he'd come was answering to S'rei...which was Salenth's lie, not his. For all he'd known, that was his name. It was just as likely as any other. "But as long as we're being direct...I have a little trouble opening up to ex-Fort riders who like to keep their own secrets safely guarded. I'm not supposed to know about your age, the documents you have under lock and key. Worm's more observant than most would think, though, and she's always talking to me about anything of interest to her. I'm not entirely without contacts in the north, either, even now. Albeit the majority aren't dragonriders. I believe in giving people the benefit of the doubt until proven otherwise, but I'm not fool enough to go into it blind and bound and trust people won't take advantage. Pass judgment as you will, but you should know as well as I that opening yourself like a book more often gets you screwed. If I'm expected to be open, I expect the same in return."

Was he amused that Ka'rys had dismissed him because he didn't allow himself to be read at a glance? Oh yes. Amused and mildly perturbed, though not enough for it to be active irritation. If nothing else, his motives had to be obvious over the turns, simply by the nature of his actions; S'rei tried to do the best he could for Selenitas. It didn't always work out. Lately, he felt nothing did. But he tried, and it was interesting that Ka'rys couldn't see that. Before. Now he was a stranger. Ground zero, and he wasn't likely to have any more luck the second time around.

He snorted. "I don't pay much attention to what people say. Their actions are more interesting." Words came cheap. Actions were harder to fake, especially over time. "Everyone questions their leaders. Few do it openly. Although I highly doubt you made a habit of questioning your leaders at Fort...they never seemed to take kindly to that." Perhaps it was petty, but if Ka'rys was going to accuse him of bullshitting, S'rei didn't plan on putting up with any of the other bronzerider's, either. "I'm not fond of being fed runner dung, either. You don't trust me. You don't respect me. And it's Selenitas...we're all soft here, yes? I don't blame you. In your position, I'd be shooting off my mouth, too. Although it could be the fellis. We'll call it that. Little word to the wise? Don't dick around with me. I'm not going to hurt you, but you want me on your side. If you want to talk straight, do it. And I'll return the favor. Otherwise, I'd suggest not bringing it up again."

S'rei wrapped his knuckles lightly against the wall he was leaning against. "How's that for honest?" He straightened, setting his foot down on the ground. "That said, sounds like you're resigned to the fact you'll be one of my wingleaders. Good. If I had another choice that wasn't likely to land me responsible for even more deaths than what we're going to inevitably accumulate, I'd go there in a heartbeat. Least I won't have to fight you about it for the time being."

Probably Dohulth's. He'll follow orders...and Dohulth at least is very reliable. They've also seconded before. Dsoleth's isn't mature enough, we both feel, to be of much benefit to Yours. Ruskeath's also has experience. You can have him for a second, too. Two might not be a bad idea.

[glamourie]

What?

“What idiot would let me be in charge of a Weyr?” It came out before he could stop himself and all at once, Ka’rys turned to the wall nearest to him. The sound of hysterical rumbling carried from the infirmary ledge and he didn’t need to see Ciceroth to know he’d definitely amused his dragon. Good to know someone thought his state was entertaining… although he was sure it was just momentary amusement more than permanent; he still felt some discomfort from the bronze, after all. “Go ahead, laugh it up, you’re the imbecile who’s responsible for that and you just remember the more funny you find it, the less inclined I am to oil you as often as you’d like. You will just have to find a new slave, brute.” Of course, the little tangent only served to amuse Ciceroth further and the dragon outright crooned – half at S’rei, half at Ka’rys. That sound, too, carried enough that both men would be able to hear it even if they weren’t listening. Rolling his eyes in obvious annoyance, Ka’rys stared up toward the ceiling. “Obnoxious beast. With the way he carries on, you’d think he really does believe he’s…” Realizing that S’rei was still standing there (and could hear all of his fussing), the bronzerider trailed off on his rant to finish quietly with, “… a gold dragon…”

Awkward. He always liked to rant to Ciceroth – the dragon could take any amount of verbal lashing he offered and brush it off. But doing so in front of someone was weird. He wasn’t in the habit of talking privately to Ciceroth unless he had something to hide, and it was… weird to need to hide everything. His head swam slightly.

The whole explanation S’rei offered made him raise an eyebrow before he said simply, “I don’t know about any of those things, but if I was keeping secrets from you, it might have had to do with you keeping secrets from me.” He didn’t know. He couldn’t say for sure, and he was careful to keep his tone even to not imply that he did. “I don’t like it when people keep secrets from me. And I can always tell when they’re doing it. For the record, I don’t advocate trusting people blindly either; I’m not stupid, regardless of what you may be led to believe.” He wasn’t sure why, but he did believe that S’rei had been led to believe he was unintelligent. He couldn’t pinpoint the source so he attributed it to something he’d lost – and wasn’t sure that he wanted back. “My point is, you keep babbling about how I have to be a wingleader. Well, you’re Weyrleader, like it or not, and the Weyrleader should have some level of professional trust for their wingleaders and vice versa, or it doesn’t work. I can’t trust someone who I think is keeping secrets from me. I’m telling you now. I don’t know how much more open I can be on that. And direct or not, lying by omission is still lying. I don’t care what you do with others – I’m telling you now how to get along with me. Ciceroth seems to think we have to play nicely – he’s usually better about this sort of thing than me. Take it how you will.”

The rest of S’rei’s statement made him cock his head to the side and he raised an eyebrow before glancing toward the door. Then he sat up and half scooted, to be close enough that he could talk quietly; no other reason. “I’m treating you the way you deserve to be treated. You want my trust and respect… earn it. D’loro did. He earned the silent acceptance of whatever order I was given. Kamerai was my sister – she got it by family rights. The other wingleaders didn’t give me orders. They didn’t have the right to.” He wasn’t exactly a ranking individual at Fort, but his position put him in a role where it was better if his orders came from one or two people – not a mess of them. Conflicting orders could be highly detrimental. “I’m being as frank with you as I possibly can: I grew up at Fort, it was my home, and everything that I ever knew. Selenitas is nothing to me. Expecting the same responses is unrealistic. Besides…” He slightly smirked and snorted softly, “They wouldn’t have made me a wingleader at Fort, and for good reason. I don’t play well with orders.” He didn’t believe S’rei wasn’t going to hurt him, but he wasn’t about to just… not defend himself. “As for whether Selenitas is soft or not, that’s irrelevant. The point is that it’s not home, no one here is anyone who I would trust, and you most certainly aren’t on that list. I’m giving you the chance to change it by telling you things outright. Take it as insubordination if you want – I don’t much care. You don’t get respect blindly; you earn it. And I’m a critical judge of character. You have a lot to make up for and Ciceroth can’t tell me why I even gave you the time of day before. So…”

[Requiem]

He was growing very, very weary of this conversation, if it could be called that. S'rei, for all that he could often be amiable in the most unusual of situations, did have something of a limit. That limit was quickly being reached - if it hadn't already been bypassed. To be fair, that really wasn't Ka'rys's fault. (And even if it was, most things could be forgiven people who'd just cracked their skull something fierce.) But it didn't change the fact that the bronzerider's patience was wearing dangerously thin. He didn't come here to argue. He honestly didn't care all that much if Ka'rys respected him. Right or wrong...he'd never felt that the man had and so it wasn't exactly heartbreaking if that continued.

If S'rei was to be completely honest with himself, Ka'rys had always been somewhat discouraging to him. Maybe it was his natural inclination to keep to his own counsel unless the other party opened up first; he did have the capability of being open with someone. They also usually were only his intimates or closest friends. Trust was one thing. You could trust someone to act in the best interests of a place, or to react a certain way given a certain situation, or to be skilled at one thing or another - without entrusting to them every little secret of your being. That sort of trust S'rei had in abundance. Trust on a personal level didn't come as easy. Nor did he see why anyone would expect it to. Certainly not someone who was arguably even more closed off than he was. S'rei recognized that most of his behavior was learned behavior over the turns, but that didn't make it easier to shrug off just because one person out of a multitude of people found it uncomfortable.

Even if that person was his Weyrsecond. Fighting one's nature was never easy.

"Do you ever get tired of talking around in circles?" S'rei asked Ka'rys without venom. It wasn't even a pointed, personal question. "You're sick. You're tired. This is confusing and I'm sure you don't want to be here, much less with me. I'm tired and angry and trying to keep the Weyr from panicking too badly. It's hardly a good time for such a conversation. I appreciate your - frankness, as you call it. Such as it is. Hostile as it is. But if you want honesty, I don't think I'm equipped to handle this conversation right now."

The Weyrleader still hadn't moved from where he stood, still waiting for the fellis to kick in and wondering why it was taking so long. "There is a difference between lying and simply not telling someone every little thought and emotion I experience. I'm sorry if the difference is so difficult to differentiate for you. I'm not going to go out of my way to conceal things from you; I never have. But you haven't earned enough of my trust for me to confide in you like a friend, and I frankly find it humorous that you think this is how people should interact. There is a balance, Ka'rys. I've been in enough one-way relationships that I'm not going to walk into another one simply because you feel more comfortable walking into something knowing everything there is to know about someone else. I'm not that difficult to understand if someone cares to bother, and I'm not that difficult to get along with if someone's being civil. If you want to see the negative in a person, you're bound to find it. That's true of anyone."

He shrugged, then. "This may not be your home, Ka'rys. But nowhere else is either. Making the best of it would be a good idea. It's going to get very lonely here, otherwise. Though I suppose that might be how you prefer it."

[glamourie]

“You’re welcome and encouraged to leave,” Ka’rys replied dryly; it wasn’t exactly impersonal but there wasn’t a significant enough amount of anger in his voice to make the words an insult or dismissal; more like a strong suggestion. The more S’rei spoke, the less inclined to bother with him at all he was. It was painfully obvious the man didn’t comprehend what he was saying – he didn’t care about his personal relationships, he meant relating to professionalism, and he thought he’d been perfectly obvious about that – and nothing he was able to do would be able to translate that for him. He was wasting his time trying. It felt mind-numbingly pathetic to be sitting and explaining himself to S’rei, or even trying. S’rei. Who sounded so surprised by hostility? Urge to hit him… rising… nearly overwhelming… “You’re right. You’re not equipped to handle this conversation. You don’t even grasp basic point A to point B logic right now, and it is making my head hurt worse to try and explain it to you. Headache and nearly violent frustration. Your Weyr is under attack. Go protect your Southerners.” That was a dismissal, but he didn’t care much; he was tired of fighting with someone who seemed convinced to fail to grasp what he thought was simple logic:

He didn’t want S’rei keeping secrets relating to the Weyr from him if he was supposed to be a Weyrsecond. It would impede his ability to work with S’rei.

Really, was that so complicated? The man was an expert at making a mountain out of a mole hill, and Ka’rys was too tired to argue about it. He felt like he’d been hit with a hammer. Which, theoretically, he had. Ka’rys brought one hand up to cover his face and leaned back against the cot. He wasn’t sure why, but he was incredibly frustrated by S’rei’s lack of understanding and he had the worst feeling of déjà vu. Something told him that he’d be getting that feeling a lot – but logic dictated that it probably stemmed from S’rei’s behavior. Ciceroth neither confirmed nor denied that suspicion, which really just confirmed it in his mind: he didn’t get along with S’rei before, probably because the man was incapable of understanding plain and simple words. Ridiculous. Oh his aching head.

“You’d be a lot easier to get along with if you’d stop reading hidden motives into my words, just so that you know. Or stopped looking for what I’m not saying.” He didn’t look up; he was wasting his time. “The points of my words were either lost on you, or you’re being difficult for the sake of hurting my head even worse. Either way, I question the purpose of explaining further.” He dropped his hand and then said, very softly, “You’re likely right that I don’t have a home anymore – the place that was home is gone. However, you brought up my behavior there. You opened that door. Fort with D’loro and Kamerai was my home. Selenitas is not. You want me to act as I did there, you have to earn it the way they did – or Selenitas has to become home. Either way, the fact is the same: you don’t get the same behavior because you’re not the same. Was that plain enough for you? You keep acting like – like – oh, forget it. You’re hurting my head too much to even bother explaining this. I’d prefer it if you left now.” Why did he even bother with trying to explain again? Masochism, it had to be. Secretly he enjoyed torturing himself.

[Requiem]

His eyes narrowed. Simple logic, was it? He really, really didn't care to have this conversation, for many reasons, not the least of which being insofar as matters relating to the Weyr were concerned, he was open. S'rei spent an inordinate amount of time explaining what he was doing and why to everyone, for the express purpose of them accepting that he did indeed have a reason when there was no time to go into such explanations. And he'd always gone to Ka'rys about what he was doing for input...or very nearly always. But that hardly mattered. Ka'rys couldn't remember that, and therefore was accusing him of something he knew nothing about. Which was always fun. S'rei must have been in something of a cantankerous mood to even bother responding. If S'rei wasn't open, it was about his feelings and his personal life. So, logically that had to be what Ka'rys was talking about if he was going on about being open or not. However, again, it didn't matter. Ka'rys didn't remember.

And why did S'rei care so much to set the record straight, anyway? Ka'rys had never been easy to talk to once he had an idea in his head.

"I don't expect you to treat me like you would have treated the Fort leadership, Ka'rys. I'm not like they were, and even if I was, you have no memory of it. Yes? It was a remark based on how Fort riders are trained, and had nothing to do with Selenitas." Hopefully that was clear. If it wasn't, he wasn't going out of his way to make it less muddy. Simply wasn't. "It's good, actually. There's a time to follow orders, but the rest of the time, I'd rather know a man's mind. I've often and probably will continue to often ask your opinion, Ka'rys. You're more logical than I am." That was true enough. Smarter too, probably, but S'rei had his strong points too, and intelligence had too broad a scope.

"I'm not interested in mindless drones, Ka'rys. If you want me to be open with you professionally, you've got it." Already did, but that was beside the point. S'rei was not in the mood for fighting. He had way too much going on to bother with injured people, even if it meant being something of a doormat. And yes, Ka'rys was right, it was time to go. He should probably mention Ophelie and Worm, but that seemed best saved for a better time.

"Sleep. I'll leave so you don't have to keep yourself up." And so he did.