The best of us can find happiness in misery [Rei]

[Rei]

Sel’n was quite involved with his own thoughts at this point. Hence the silence. Besides the pain was almost mind clearing in a way. Helped him to think. To plan. Damn it if he was going to let F’lix…. The brownrider’s thought process however was interrupted as the healers approached. It took a supreme effort of will not to just growl at them to go away. He could walk fine on his own to the infirmary thank you very much. Struggling to a sitting position he got as far as “Get your bloody hands….” Before Kaaoloth interjected into his mind, the dragon’s voice decidedly irritated.

If you do not allow them to help you so help me Faranth I will fly down there and carry you to the infirmary myself. Upon his ledge the brown rose to his feet and mantled his large wings. You just busted your knee. How do you think you can get there yourself? I doubt you can put any weight on it at all. You going to hop on one leg? Please do make a fool of yourself in front of those two. By all means go ahead.

Sel’n gave a grimace to those words and bristled as the healer took his arm again but offered nothing further. Trapped. How lovely. Chances where he would also have an irate Kalierre to deal with later when she finally managed to hobble in for the night shift. Almost instinctively his eyes shifted from the healers trying to move him onto the stretcher to the blue riding pair. He regarded the twosome for a few minutes before snorting dryly and looking away. No doubt the pair where congratulating themselves on their little move. Not that it mattered in the end. Almost idly the older rider looked down at his already swelling knee and sighed. Leaning forward he swiftly cut the fabric of his pants away from the joint so it wouldn’t end up constricted. Would think the idiots moving him would have done that by now.

Resigned Sel’n leaned back and carefully distributed his weight to make it easier for the people carting him off to carry him. Had a lot to think about did the brownrider. Starting with how he was going to explain this to S’rei and how he was going to keep his assignment as a Wingleader. He needed to keep that position. Closing his eyes he sighed softly and winced as he was jostled. This wasn’t going to be fun. I would suppose this would get back to Salenth’s rather quickly. I would suggest you think fast. Sel’n gave a bitter smile. Don’t worry I am.

[Requiem]

It had been the right move to make, he noted in the quiet of his mind, as the tension seemed to bleed from F'lix after the initial stiffening. Still, he couldn't bring himself to say much. It shouldn't be that way, since F'lix was his and not Sel'n's, and it was ridiculous to think of what had passed between the other two as intimate. Ridiculous but not altogether incorrect, in its fashion. F'ur's presence had inalterably shifted what had been here before, making of him an intruder. F'lix didn't want him seeing the passion he'd directed at the older man, this much was clear - or perhaps it was the admission that went beyond words in his voice when he accused Sel'n, speaking of F'ur and the fight and what hadn't been acknowledged aloud even once between them, that F'ur had been fortunate (beyond fortunate) to survive it. And Sel'n didn't speak at all in his presence. The bluerider was past holding old grudges, but that didn't make him forget old hurts, and his suspicions would not be silent now in the face of Sel'n's quiet. Only the guilty had reason not to speak. When had the two developed this...strange...hatefulness that they'd hid? Emotion meant caring. He was not comfortable with it. At all.

Still and all, he didn't doubt F'lix. The moment he let himself do that, things would be over. Not right away, perhaps, but such was the nature of distrust. Let it gain a foothold and it would eat through everything you'd worked for until there was nothing left. The kitten was too honest to hide anything like that, though. He'd confessed thoughts before, after all. F'ur would simply have to ask him, later, what all this was about. Later. For now he gave the man a genuine, if notably troubled, smile. "Wait until I know what it is you're apologizing for," he murmured, a wry twitch of the lips. His fingers found F'lix's on his shoulder, the other hand still cradling the tiles. "Go. We'll talk later." And Sel'n...Sel'n he'd talk to now. F'ur pocketed the tiles to return to his weyrmate, pivoting in his crouch before walking over to where the healers worked to prepare the brownrider.

Taking up part of the stretcher, he glanced down at the man, and the cold amusement at how obviously he hated relying on others to move him was more than clear in the younger man's eyes. Proud, proud brownrider, Sel'n. Some things never changed. "I do hope you don't find it too invasive a question, my dear aging Selarin, but I'm rather curious as to why I find you trying to kill my weyrmate. Have you given up attempts on my life now and moved on to greener pastures, or is it just a rather unseemly coincidence? I must say, the turns have made you less sly. You were far craftier at Fort. I salute the fact that you've apparently gained in courage, however. Or stupidity. But we'll give you the benefit of the doubt." F'ur leaned lower a touch, his voice softening. "In case you're not aware, he could kill you half-awake and blindfolded, my old lover. A gross miscalculation on your part." It seemed he didn't care about the listening ears.

---

The girl glanced quickly about her and fled, in part afraid to be seen, but most likely it was the stony neutrality on the Weyrleader's face that had her hiking up her skirts and scampering off at record pace. S'rei's features softened after a moment, eyes returning to the babe he was bouncing lightly on one knee as Silas played at his feet, leaning against his father's leg. The boy had become more and more comfortable with S'rei, though he still favored his mother. He banged on his array of pots, making some song of them while he hummed. S'rei could almost pick it out - or perhaps that was a father's pride, hearing in the random crashings something more complex. Miguel had stolen Reiscia, something S'rei was thankful for; it made the darkening hours more peaceful. His baby boy giggled his happy giggle, smiling broadly. The child fussed, yes, but he was a joyful one, and that made up for it.

The bronzerider wondered how long it would take for one of them to come to him, spinning tales and looking to place the blame at the other's feet. He'd heard the conversation near verbatim from the girl's lips. A quick lass, with a good memory. One of many who graced S'rei's doors at all hours, even if he was outside at present. The weyrfolk knew there was always a mark or a favor in it for them...or simply the good will of the Weyrleader, which itself was worth much.

[rii]

His attempt at humor hung in the air, unacknowledged. Rare were the times that F'ur got serious. The following wording given to him – the ex-Fortian always had a way of picking a choosing his phrasing – served to feed F'lix's growing sense of unease. His gut twisted at the equally unsettling expressions on his lover's face that veered too close to hurt for F'lix's liking. He had only been sorry about getting into trouble, that for one reason or another F'ur had to come bail him out. It shouldn't be that way. F'lix was not a child, and was beyond the need to play these destructive games with people like Sel'n.

Yet the younger bluerider said nothing. A pensive frown on his features as his fingers trailed along F'ur's shoulder and bicep; the older man pivoting to leave and F'lix wishing that he could grab on to his shirt and stop him there and then to have that talk; not let the shadows consume his mind. F'lix's gaze followed F'ur, watching the two ex-Fortians until the small group began the trek for the infirmary. Only then, metaphorically alone, did F'lix glance at the few spectators still gathered.

The impassive glare naturally fell into place, F'lix hand falling to the hilt of sheathed blade as he turned to head up a different path. A short conversation between dragons let F'lix know where he needed to go. And there he went without hesitation; wiping the blood clean of his face with his dark sleeve as he went. The hand dropped loosely back to his side upon nearly colliding with the girl making haste from the direction of S'rei's weyr. He wouldn't of thought anything of her if she hadn't come to a near halt at the sight of him, here eyes widening in surprise while his narrowed in questioning. She skirted around him, warily keeping an eye on him before getting past and darting back the way he had came.

Hn.

F'lix prowled up to S'rei sat, not waiting for invitation and lingering two long strides away. His weight swayed over his feet, the stance lax even with the hand on the hilt of a dagger. At least for F'lix it was that way, the way he pushed down on the leather grip so the blade was forced horizontal, as comfortable to him as a leaning post would be to another man. F'lix turned his head, gazing for a long moment in the direction the young girl had ran. "I've always wondered.."

A quiet tone that was for the most part aloof in nature. Golden eyes settled back on S'rei before sinking toward the child at the man's feet. "How much of the story little birds remember, and what parts they conveniently forget."

[Rei]

Sel’n gave a twitch as F’ur joined those moving him, but no other words where given for the moment. The other rider would fill the silence he was sure. There was an irate brown dragon in his mind to occupy him enough until the other man spoke after all. Trust it to Kaaoloth to keep harping after the fact. Normal that was. When the bluerider did finally speak the older rider gave a snort. As F’ur leaned forward Sel’n blinked and a half smile flitted across is lips before he answered.

“I’m well aware of F’lix’s skills. I was expecting him to move. I wasn’t trying to kill him. Merely trying to get a reaction from him when words failed.” His eyes settled darkly on his knee. “Seems I got more than I bargained for. My apologies. I wasn’t thinking. Not that currently that is any surprise.” The older rider trailed off and flinched as he was jostled. “Supreme stupidity on my part.” You can say that again. Glad as always for your input old friend. No problem. Shaking off the blank expression the brownrider again spoke softly.

“The fellis and the alcohol have deadened a lot of things. I am relearning how to cope without them. It doesn’t always work like I want. Emotions have never been an easy thing for me. You should know that.” Grimacing at those words Sel’n turned his eyes towards F’ur the look in them mildly curious. “You can stop with the full name. Kaaoloth likes to use it but it’s been a good long time since I have heard it on the lips of another.” Shifting Sel’n felt a spike of annoyance from his brown, which he promptly ignored. “You have your answer F’ur. You can leave now if that is all you need.” Slowly he ran a hand through his slightly graying hair. Awkward this was with so many, doubtlessly, playing attention. Not that the brownrider cared what the healers thought. Kali had them all biased in one way or another anyway. What F’ur really wanted Sel’n didn’t know. However it wasn’t as if that really bothered him at the moment. He had things to prove. People to prove wrong. So he was going to be the death of his wing was he?

From his ledge Kaaoloth rumbled and shifted. It was odd but his seemed in a better frame of mind despite the pain he was feeling. Odd one his was at the best of times. A cheerful croon was given to the empty weyr. Kali is going to kill you. Yeah… Please don’t remind me.

[Requiem]

Not surprised to see F'lix first. After all, he was the one who didn't have a busted knee. Still and all, the speed was rather swifter than anticipated, something that didn't show in his face as he pulled his child closer to him so as to wrap one arm around the infant, leaving his other free. S'rei's eyes flicked toward the desk chair not far off, an unvoiced invitation that could be heeded or ignored as the other desired. "The answer is the same to both parts; whatever best suits the little birds." A flicker of a wry smile touched his lips. "That's why it's best to keep a variety, to hear all the songs they care to sing. But enough of that. You've a song of your own, no doubt. I hear I'm down a Wingleader. Or a wingleader's knee, such as it is."

---

Pinching the bridge of his nose, F'ur shook his head. "I'd call it pride, more than emotion. A man needs his pride. Sometimes it can use for a little whittling, though." His eyes scanned Sel'n's body. "Particularly when stupidity is involved. You're too old, my friend, to be using stupidity and emotions as an excuse. It will get someone killed. Just hope they're not someone I hold dear." A flash of teeth in an expression that was more wolfish than human, and he pressed the man firmly down. "Do yourself a favor and don't wiggle so much. It would be a shame for more than one limb to be permanently crippled." With that, he nodded to a trailing healer, vanishing to allow them to take his place.

[rii]

F'lix's nose wrinkled, finding the idea of a bunch of birds chorusing in the morning to be more noise than song. He'd leave the task of picking out the tunes from the din to the weyrleader. Of course, what was he but another song bird. The passing muse about what his song sounded like passed through his mind with an accompanying wry smile. A fleeting expression that quickly melted back into indifference.

A mask, yes, but a solid one and only worn to dull the ache inside his chest about what thoughts might be brewing in the mind of his weyrmate. Paranoid, in the end, but no less concerned and wanting nothing more than to go find F'ur.

The leather of his sheath whined in protest to the increasing pressure from his hand. Fingers loosened slowly to not bring attention to the grip that had tightened in his moment of introspect. "Give him a few days, he'll be hobbling about." If Sel'n's stubbornness to shove away the healers spoke of anything. An injured leg was better than death – of course, in that same light, no injury was best of all. Hn. "I provoked Sel'n into attacking me."

A very condensed version of events, but true all the same – at least it was from F'lix's point of view. Had no doubt in his mind that the entire confrontation could have been avoided if he had not added fuel to the fire. Silence chased his words. What more needed to be said? The additional details meant next to nothing in the end. The matter at hand was that F'lix had put a wingleader out of commission for a sevenday or more. No doubt the rest was a waste of time meant for a mindhealer's ear, not the weyrleader's; not S'rei's.

All that remained was to know the consequences.

[Requiem]

Northern men. A good many of them seemed so rigid, so out of place in the pretty dappled summers of the south. S'rei had little fondness for the scarred and seething northern women apart from bedmates, but he had to admit that he felt more at home in the company of men from the other continent. It was a farce, the implacable expressions like the one the young rider he'd made one of his seconds bore, but it was a farce he well knew. Elsewhere, his thoughts. F'lix's seemed to wander much like the birds he'd smiled about a moment before his face returned to stone. The grip was noted but not openly marked; for better or worse, the bluerider had his trust. To a point. S'rei tended to be of the opinion that if a man who could kill him wanted him dead, he would be. That said, he had no illusions as to the man's loyalty. It most certainly wasn't to S'rei. He had yet to decide whether or not it was to Selenitas, either, but keep the dog leashed here, and this bird would stay, and sing whichever song that might allow him to remain in his gilded cage. A wry smile much the twin to the younger man's played over his lips before F'lix spoke, fading into a thoughtfulness that was part frown and mostly slack.

The words were not terribly surprising, in and of themselves. Most fights of that sort didn't start on a whim. That F'lix was so swift to take responsibility for it without laying any blame, however, was something of an oddity. "Should have taken the beating, too, as he outranks you," the man stated flatly. If it was sarcasm, it was the sort you couldn't be sure of. He regarded F'lix in silence for a few moments. If the wingleaders hadn't been his - if he wasn't the Weyrleader - and this place was less soft and airy, he would be required in good faith to punish harshly and swiftly to appease both the wronged wingleader and the weyrleader. It wasn't the case this time, but some of the familiar annoyance at a subordinate putting him in that position lingered, just the same.

"Fine. The brownriders are your neighbors. You scouted here, before you turned. In addition to current duties, you'll help M'ta organize this evacuation. I'd have my own man involved." Not that he didn't trust Ka'rys, but the man was too fond of secrets. Far too fond. "Sel'n will be told that he may have you whenever he desires to help train that wing of his, since you seem to think you know how to run it so much better. In both cases you will do as they tell you. In both cases I want detailed information." He had his own plans for Sel'n, a man near forty who had yet to learn to use his words and not his fists. And a Fort man, too, where that was like to get him whipped. Some people just never learned, did they? Of course, the knee might be worse.

F'lix would be a busy man. Clearly he wasn't busy enough, if he was picking fights. Still, it went unsaid that S'rei was loathe to demote him, much less move him to another wing, though it had crossed his mind to make Sel'n and F'lix work together like little children. Too few capable men to replace him, unfortunately.

He could have let him go, then, but there was one more thing of interest to him. The bronzerider regarded F'lix contemplatively. "I know you've little love or respect for the man." No mincing of words, here. They'd discussed Sel'n, and shortly after the discussion, Sel'n was no longer part of Centurio. "He rides on his laurels too much, and it may well be that he's washed up, but I fail to see what you meant to accomplish, sniping at him." The question was out there. One thing he'd learned about F'lix: the man might not always be direct, but he was truthful. You could be certain that whatever he said he believed to be the truth.

[rii]

"Then you would of had two dead riders, instead of one with a limp." F'lix softly spoke the words into the silence. A anger fueled kick to the weak side of his skull might as well have been his end. There existed little doubt in his mind that Sel'n's end would follow shortly after by the work of F'ur's hands. At least F'lix reasoning was that he would kill any man – or woman – that took F'ur's life. Then again it may have been some form of a twisted romantic in him that thought F'ur would avenge his death.

A better trail for his thoughts to wander down than giving in to the inner bristling at the jab. Sel'n did outrank him. A fact often forgotten when F'lix saw the sullen brownrider as scarce more than a man bitterly waiting for a long promised death. The simple phrase didn't strike F'lix as humorous. He doubted S'rei knew how often he had taken hits because of he felt it necessary to be that vessel to another's vented frustration. How many broken ribs, fingers, countless bruises – it was his past and F'lix wanted it to remain that way. Granted, if Sel'n had thrown a normal punch, F'lix wasn't so sure he would have moved to fully dodge it; and he was here and now willing to take the full blame for the incident. No, the Bendenite hadn't fully changed, but it wasn't exactly the same either.

F'lix's gaze turned outwardly thoughtful, focusing more firmly on S'rei's face. The matter of organizing an evacuation was a curious business, but if anything M'ta wasn't an insufferable sort. The latter part of the punishment did make F'lix eyes flash with annoyance, thought he did well to lower his lids to mask the reaction. Irritated more that S'rei assumed he had said anything about being a better teacher than Sel'n. Leave it to a bronze rider to make everything revolve around pride. Hn. What, he wondered, would Sel'n even tell him to teach the wing. Probably try to make him feel humiliated than actually putting him to good use. The bluerider couldn't help but imagine the brownrider's smugness at being allowed to order him around with no questions asked. Since when did F'lix need lessons in humility.

Alas, F'lix had come here taking the blame, had little ground to argue the purpose of the weyrleader patting Sel'n's head like he were some spoiled child. Albeit, the thing that bothered F'lix the most was the undeniable fact that his free time was being cut drastically short; meaning he had less time to be with his weyrmate, or do those silly pastimes he enjoyed. Almost ironic really, that he had only gone out to be around people while he worked at the tiles, and Sel'n had approached him..

Did. Not. Matter.

F'lix pivoted to the side, expecting to get a curt dismissal. Instead, as S'rei's curious words reached his ears, the faintest flicker of a smile crossed his lips. The eyes that returned regard the weyrleader were smiling where his lips were not, a feral cast to the golden hue with a trace of inner amusement. "He needed the push. Live, or die. He unwittingly chose the latter, twice, but now that he knows he won't get it, maybe he'll chose to live instead."

Did he expect S'rei to understand? No, but a question deserved an answer. Even F'ur often gave him those confused, clearly did not understand, looks. If his weyrmate didn't fully understand him, F'lix had no expectations for the weyrleader. Even less so if their past discussion about Sel'n had resulted in the bronzer deducing the cause to be a pissing contest.

[Requiem]

S'rei didn't explain himself. He did not know everything, no, but the words were clearly an argument, showing his point had been missed. The bronzerider didn't understand, truly, why some games were played and others were not; he knew well enough the games Benden forced those with chromatics to play at, almost as intimately as he knew the dances he'd stepped to for turns. Politics was everywhere, and if you weren't political, you were dead. Not that F'lix was likely to admit that he was playing the political game, then and, to a lesser degree, now. The man didn't require politics from his seconds, or his wing. It was the one benefit of having no one of higher rank than him. No one he had to dance for, though there were dances still to join. Anyone with a dragon who could catch Millieth was potentially dangerous, either in the way of Ka'rys or because they were a fool. He was gathering them slowly, though. S'kor would be his, soon, and Mi'rah and T'san both were solidly his men. Ka'rys wasn't. He was decidedly unambitious, however. Couldn't handle those under his command dying. Soft, in truth, though he styled himself hard and cold.

Interrogators did not leaders make. Still, he was clever enough, and the riders on his wing remained content to be special, even if a few of them probably didn't respect or trust Ka'rys as far as they could throw him. You had to pretend at trust to win any - not necessarily give trust.

A brow raised at F'lix's comments. The bluerider was a queer duck, and no mistake. He supposed anyone with an attachment to the wild man-child from Fort had to be one. "Goading him into giving a damn, hm? A man's pride can be good motivation." He paused at his son's mewlings, quieting the lad with a brush of lips over his forehead and allowing him a finger to wrap the small, chubby hand around. "We'll see. I've little faith in it. In the meantime, you can tell your weyrmate that in light of Sel'n's miserable showing today, once the knee heels up some he'll have a new toy to play with. I want the softness scoured out of him...by whatever means necessary. Sel'n could do with bruises and a healthy dose of humility. Short of crippling injuries or death I'll turn a blind eye." A sharp, nasty smile twisted S'rei's lips. "And do feel free to complain all you want to F'ur about anything Sel'n asks of you. Call it a failsafe. You'll sing your song for me - facts, mind you, leave the griping for F'ur's ears - and I'll decide in a month what to do with him."

For another moment he thought. It occurred to him that it might serve him to speak more openly of the other results he had in mind for Sel'n after this little...heh. But he had his reasons for not being terribly open in that regard. S'rei protected his own fiercely, but they could not go around thinking they were immune with their wingleader to back them. He was most displeased with Sel'n. Had he any more men the brownrider would already be packed off to Southern Hold to guard the little kiddies, and let the healers there see to him. "That will be all," he concluded, reaching down to ruffle Silas's hair. Decided, in the end, to leave his plans for Sel'n unvoiced. F'lix would likely learn soon enough, with how much the man whined and grumbled. Fool of a brownrider.