Fire, Fury & Flame [Tags; Tr'esn & Oquith]

[glamourie]

Chirp.
Chirp chirp.
Chirrup.
Chirp chiiiirp chirrup.

R’wign stirred. It was not so much movement as slight twitching and could barely qualify as ‘stirring’ at all, but he did begin to wake. Slowly did he open his eyes, only to stare directly at what appeared to be fabric. Fabric? A pillow. He blinked twice and turned his head slightly, dark green eyes barely adjusting to the darkness of night. It was well after sunset, but what time he couldn’t say. He honestly didn’t even know where he was. The furs he was in were not his own, he knew, because he kept an unusually fluffy bed. All of his marks went toward blankets, pillows, furs and other woven creations that arguably made his sleeping quarters among the most comfortable in the Weyr. R’wign liked soft things - soft fabric, soft curves. The bed he was in felt distinctly hard, and the body next to his was most certainly not Marra’s. Marra usually slept on top of him, the git.

Wait. Body next to him?

Jolting himself upright in surprise, R’wign blinked twice. Dark green eyes widened and he looked around frantically before his gaze snared on the unconscious form of the green rider next to him. His heartbeat sped up, half in surprise (because Marra was going to slaughter him) and half in worry. Even in the darkness, he knew that form: Tr’esn. The shy boy in his weyrling class who couldn’t read, with the green who landed so prettily. Recognition sent a flood of memories through him, from the flight to Checkoth’s elation at having caught the single most beautiful green on Pern (a thought the brown still felt was accurate). He remembered the freedom of flight and the feeling of Tr’esn’s skin beneath his own. At the time he was the most beautiful thing R’wign had ever seen. In retrospect, the brown weyrlingrider was somewhat embarrassed. He did not generally prefer males. He just… didn’t. And he had no experience with his own sex. Had he hurt him?

Chirping woke him, and R’wign looked up to see Ellie staring at him, her multifaceted eyes almost glowing in the darkness. She was not alone, but her golden hide made her the easiest to spot of his fire lizards. Hazard was doubtlessly the owner of the eyes next to hers, and Roxie’s deep green hide glittered periodically as she moved - enough to make her noticeable. The two blues were missing - probably both asleep as Collision slept as often as possible, and Stumpy kept normal sleeping schedules. R’wign met Ellie’s gaze evenly, and held out one arm for her to land on. The gold twittered pleasantly before flying down to land on her bonded’s naked arm. Her head nudged up to butt his chin affectionately, and R’wign squirmed to the side… more to give Tr’esn room than anything else. He didn’t want to accidentally wake the green rider so rudely. Was there some kind of after-flight etiquette he was supposed to adhere to? He didn’t know.

“Ellie,” he whispered to the gold, and she cocked her head intelligently to look at him. “Do me a favor and bring me a skin of klah and some cups, please?” He sent her an image of the kitchens and a skin of klah to make sure she understood, and the little gold bobbed her head. Then Ellie took to wing and disappeared between with the other three fire lizards - doubtlessly to go round up their blues and acquire the klah as needed. Efficiency was one of her strong points. If the five of them couldn’t lift it, she’d be happy to hunt down more fire lizards to do her bidding. Ellie was also not bossy: being a pleasant queen usually meant she got eager helpers when she requested help. Intelligent, she was, sometimes to the point of being frightening. R’wign was always very impressed by her cleverness.

Only once the fire lizards were gone did R’wign turn his attention to the end of the weyr where his dragon was. Checkoth was curled protectively around Oquith, not enough that she couldn’t squirm away if needed, but most definitely a show of consideration. The brown’s wings were still sore, R’wign noted, able to feel the stiffness in the back of his mind -- but no longer was it in his own arms, a fact he was grateful for. He touched gently at his mindmate, but found him still asleep, resting blissfully… and why shouldn’t he have been? He’d caught the most beautiful green ever, after all, and R’wign couldn’t help but smile. His head bowed, black curls bobbing in his face. Checkoth’s delight made it hard to be truly embarrassed. Even in his sleep, the brown felt like he could fly without the use of his wings, and R’wign wondered, briefly, if it would be considered bad form to thank Oquith for giving him that feeling. Certainly it was the lovely green who made his mindmate just that happy. Nothing else he’d ever found sent Checkoth such a delight. That alone was worth the rage from Marra he would surely endure when he found her later. That was not a conversation he was looking forward to…

[Avu]

Meow.

The sound was very indignant, and the white kitten sat up huffily to squint at R'wign from the floor, where she'd previously been slinking along, aiming to tackle one of the firelizard fluttery things so that they could play. She wasn't a predatory feline, but it seemed very, very hard to get their attention unless she outright tackled one of them. Flutteries were like that. And just when she'd gotten close, so close, the goldy one had went to the one who was in her spot (actually, Moth claimed all the spots, including on top of Tr'esn, so R'wign would be hard pressed to be not in Moth's spot) and then they'd been talking back and forth in human and fluttery language, and then she'd gone with the other ones and left Moth all alone with no playmates. Well...except maybe for the boy, but she was mad at him. The white feline stalked huffily across the floor, and then leapt lightly to the foot of the bed, twitching her whiskers and mrowling in protest at R'wign. He'd sent away her newest playmates, he had. Bad person, bad. Her emerald eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she peered at him. Maybe if her humanpet liked him, he would spoil her.

The logic made perfect sense to Moth, so, without further ado, she pounced on top of Tr'esn -- her normal wake-up call -- and, in a move that was, for Moth, unprecedented, bounced right back off, pushing off of the greenrider's back and launching herself at R'wign. She fell short, since the brownrider had pulled away slightly, and then crawled shamelessly into his lap, rearing up to bat at his black curls, which he had oh-so-nicely displayed to her by bowing his head. It was his fault that she couldn't sleep on the bed that day. So he should make up for it and play with her!

"Ungff...Moth..." The protest was muffled by the pillow as Tr'esn's arms looped around the soft object, trying to burrow into it. At least the feline wasn't still on top of him, where she usually stayed, because he hurt. Not necessarily a bad hurt -- the greenrider didn't open his eyes, too busy trying to fall asleep again -- but the kind that, after a moment of thought, he associated with the first few weeks of Weyrling Training -- the kind of ache that came with exercise that his body was simply not prepared for. And...his shoulders hurt. It was, to the best of his description, a phantom pain. He felt like it ought to hurt, but upon twitching one shoulder tentatively, it...didn't. Which confused him. Maybe...Oquith? And it was then, thinking of the green's name, that he remembered. All the details. The panic; the lust; the naivete with which the green had Flown. And the pain, in his shoulderblades...Oquith's pain. Did she still hurt? He couldn't be sure. And he didn't know what to do, either. Pretend to have fallen asleep again, or just...wake up and act natural? He almost twitched at the thought.

Finally, the greenweyrling lifted his face from the pillow, rolling over onto his back (ow, ow...) and pulling the furs up at the same time. Large gray eyes peeked cautiously at R'wign, and he said, for lack of anything else to say, softly, "Hi..." Articulate, Tr'esn was. His other hand rose, running through his hair ruefully as he bit his lip. This really shouldn't be so awkward...and maybe it wouldn't be, if he'd been a good little greenrider and lost his virginity first? Tr'esn really didn't know. Oquith wasn't upset, so maybe he shouldn't be, either, but dragons looked at things much more logically than people did. There was no personal feelings involved, in draconic logic, most of the time, from what Tr'esn had heard, so...maybe Oquith wouldn't understand. She probably would consider R'wign merely an extension of Checkoth, rather than as a separate entity. Then, because he didn't know what else to say, he added, "D'you know what time it is?"

Oquith was, unlike Checkoth, from what she could tell, very much awake. The green had woken a few minutes earlier than Tr'esn, and was contentedly nuzzling into Checkoth. Large was the brown -- he positively dwarfed her. The tiny green wasn't at all abashed by the size difference; she'd gotten used to it from the day of her Hatching, after all. And large made for such lovely cuddling, it did. Her tail was still wound around Checkoth's -- he had two tails. He was special, was her brown -- and her head was curled right next to the brown's, resting on his foreleg, her entire body curving trustingly against the brown. Oquith would have very much liked to nuzzle Checkoth, and examine him, for this aspect of herself and of the brown was a new one to Oquith, but he was sleeping, and he looked so sweet when he was sleeping -- the green didn't have the heart to wake him. For now, she was content just curled against him. She could wait till he woke...and it wouldn't be long, since both of Theirs were up, surely?

[glamourie]

Paw. Paw. Bat. Paw. Blink. R’wign tilted his head slightly, accidentally making the curls bobble around his face and thus turning them into a more efficient toy for the kitten in his lap. He was very grateful for the layer of furs between them if only because her back claws sent a cold wave of dread through him. One hand lifted to run down the feline’s back, and he flashed on the morning before when he’d done something similar. Silly animal. Did she remember? Was she always so needy? Females, pfft. Everything female, no matter what species, clearly felt it deserved to be the center of all males’ attention. R’wign smiled and traced his fingers down the kitten’s spine again. He really didn’t like felines, though. It wasn’t personal or anything that Moth in particular had done. One glance at his torso told a horror story and the scars on his body were enough to make him dread claws of any kind.

Because there were scars, and quite a few of them. The most prominent was a set of four starting at next to his naval and curving upward at a sharp angle, over his hip and up the line of his back to rake just over his spine. At the time of the injury, it was the most painful of the group because every single movement pulled those muscles in his back and sent him into agony. He’d pulled the stitches out more than once by accident. R’wign was a healer, he knew how to take care of himself, but at the time, even the smallest movement was devastating. There were also eight sets of old scars down from his collarbone at an angle over his chest from other swipes. More recent scarring overlapped, but the newer wounds began at his shoulders and more resembled punctures than anything else. Scars courtesy of Aberath. Even so, the dragon-induced wounds really could not compare to what the felines had done so soon after he arrived at Selenitas. The only good thing to come of it was a drastic reduction in his fear of dragons. He wasn’t scared of them at all anymore. Felines were another story.

Little Moth was much too small to be frightening, though. R’wign stroked her again, letting her fur distract him, until speaking stole his focus. He glanced through his hair at Tr’esn and felt an unconscious flush flare up over his cheeks. He didn’t mean to blush, he really didn’t, but… well, it was hard not to. Some part of him retained modesty, in spite of it all. Remarkable really, considering how arrogant R’wign usually was… but there were some things even he was still conservative about. Eventually he was sure Checkoth would break him of that, but he was hold bred. And his mind was racing with so many, many different trains of thought that it was hard to keep up. Only when he was spoken to did all of the voices in his mind come to an abrupt and sudden halt, rather like slamming into a wall, and he turned his head to look through his curls back at Tr’esn.

“Hi,” he replied, surprising himself with the level of calm his voice held. He’d expected to stammer, somehow. The greenrider’s question made him cluck his tongue in thought. “No, I don’t know. It’s full dark outside, so I’d guess the middle of the night. Well after sunset, at the least.” His hands curled around Moth, careful not to hurt her, and then he deposited the feline between himself and Tr’esn. Fingers went up to brush his black hair from his face, mainly since… he didn’t seem to need to hide behind it anymore; most of the blushing had faded. “Your feline is very playful. What’s its name?”

Shhh, R’wignmine. It is dark and sleep-time, Checkoth scolded, as he finally began to wake. Of course, ‘shh’ing R’wign was rarely a wise course of action as it meant he had to wake up enough to form words. By the time he was done speaking, his mind was beginning to clear, and the brown acted more on impulse than really thinking things through: he leaned forward and nuzzled the green flesh closest to him. A low croon escaped him, definitely affectionate, and his second tail curled more tightly around Oquith’s. Possessive? No - affectionate. Checkoth was very much a touchy, cuddly sort. Always had been, usually with R’wign or Behruth, but Oquith was beautiful and he was very, very taken with her. So cuddling with her was a good idea, too… at least unless she asked him to stop. He would if she told him to. He wasn’t rude.

Slowly lifting his head, Checkoth’s eyes opened and whirled affectionate shades of vivid blues and greens that contrasted starkly with his dark brown hide. There was no denying that he was a very happy dragon, and why shouldn’t he be? Really? Did R’wignmine’s talking wake you, Oquith? Whether it did or not, he wouldn’t apologize. Checkoth never apologized for anything R’wign did and he felt no shame in his rider’s behavior. But he was hoping she would answer ‘no.’ He didn’t want R’wignHis to accidentally wake the sleeping beauty. Or did I? - I didn’t mean to, if I did. I hope you slept well.

[Avu]

Moth purred, absolutely delighted by the movement, and one claw tugged thoughtfully on one of the black curls, the white kitten pulling it down to sniff it curiously. From sniffing to chewing was only a short step, the feline mouthing R'wign's hair and then licking at it. Apparently unsastisfied, Moth opened her mouth, trying to remove the hair from her mouth, and then finally just reared her head back, pulling away to whap her paw at the other side of R'wign's hair. Maybe this side would taste a little better...? But it didn't, and finally, she huffed once and then gave in to the petting, arching her back under R'wign's hand. Her tongue rasped out, licking the brownrider's thumb, and she rubbed her head against his hand, too, a rumbly little purr starting in her throat. She very much liked this, she did...the indignation over getting her bed stolen from her, and having her future playmates poof into nothingness on her, faded instantly, and her entire body wound as much as she could manage around R'wign's hand, tail curling almost possessively around the weyrlingrider's arm, as much as a feline could manage. He'd petted her before, this one had. She liked him. She claimed him.

Tr'esn squinted, blinking at Moth and then at R'wign uncertainly, his entire body curling into the warmth of his furs. On a practical level, the warmth of another body was much more satisfying, but the thought of it made him flush, and he squirmed farther under the furs, blinking large gray eyes at R'wign, lashes fluttering for a moment as he bit his lip. The moment of silence after the greetings had been exchanged -- though, somehow, saying hi didn't seem to really cover it -- made him drop his gaze from R'wign's face to Moth. Moth was -- yes. Moth was safe, to look at. Free of any embarrassment. The feline almost crooned in her contentedness, scruffy fur rubbing against R'wign's hand as she sought more attention. Oblivious was the feline, to any feelings of dislike. She generally was, though; Tr'esn was convinced there were only three concepts that ever had or ever would occupy her mind -- food, sleep, and play.

"Midnight?" the greenrider echoed, one hand reaching up to rub the heel of his hand against his eye. Oh, ugh...was it normal to sleep that much? Even after a Flight? Part of him just wanted to curl up and go right back to sleep again. It was...it seemed like...a better option than rolling out of bed and hobbling all over the place. Ow. Was it possible to put numbweed there...? He really, really didn't want people to see him and instinctively know that he'd just gone through a green's maiden Flight. "That's..." He shrugged one thin shoulder expressively. "Didn't expect that..." It'd take a while to get back on his normal sleeping schedule, if he'd just slept through the entire day. Oquith had Risen...very, very early in the morning. He distinctly remembered her confusion that a Junior Weyrling would be out and about at such early hours. Heh. Jaymith...poor Ke'rin.

R'wign's question about Moth, and the feline's being deposited away from his lap, made Tr'esn reach out, gently catching Moth around her middle and pulling the feline towards him. Moth purred, nuzzling his chin, and then promptly crawled into the cavern of the furs, squirming under and then pulling herself onto Tr'esn's back to flop down. Mm, yes. This was her spot, it was. Normally...her cushion had some fabric covering, but it was okay. She wouldn't scratch him. "Her name's Moth," Tr'esn responded, one shoulder rising in a shrug. "I didn't name her, but...yeah." He hesitated, glancing over R'wign shyly. It still...didn't seem right, talking about felines and the time, after a Flight. Should they be...um, doing anything? Like getting dinner, maybe? He hadn't eaten, the morning of Oquith's Flight, and sleeping through the whole day...made him hungry. Oquith was probably a bit hungry, too -- she hadn't eaten for awhile. But she wouldn't be able to see at night -- she'd have to wait till first light to hunt. His stomach growled slightly, and Tr'esn reddened, sliding deeper into the covers.

"...wonder if they still have food in the kitchens?"

Oh, oh! He was waking! The nuzzle along her neck drew a soft croon from Oquith in answer to both the more noticeable pressure around her tail, and the brown's own croon. Rubbing her head against Checkoth's neck, Oquith crooned quietly again, pleased. The touch of hide was a familiar one for Oquith, who rarely passed up a chance at curling up with Wymeth or Qualuth, even going out of her way to seek them, and she loved it. It was secure, and it was affectionate. The brown's question made her nudge his shoulder lightly, affection obvious in the little touch. Checkoth was one, of the few that attended Weyrling Lessons even semi-regularly (Qualuth, Ruth, Checkoth, and herself) the least-known to Oquith, but she was quite willing to get a chance to know him. Maybe he liked shinies, too, like 'ruthbrother did? No, no, the green assured him, inching even closer to him. Lovely brown, who hadn't let her fall...It was kind of the Mothfeline, and I just woke up, too. It's not your fault, Check... She hesitated, and then crooned tentatively. I did sleep well. I like this, she stated softly. Do -- did you?

[glamourie]

The feline was… distracting. A good distraction, R’wign decided, amused by her antics. His gaze followed as the little white ball of fur disappeared beneath Tr’esn’s furs, only when she was out of sight turning back to the greenrider’s face. Part of him was embarrassed, but he pushed most of that to the back of his mind. R’wign was very good at hiding what he felt. It was an unnatural gift that he possessed, burying that side of his feelings deep within. Embarrassment, sorrow, fear - all of it was neatly compacted behind an otherwise playful mask, the façade he offered to everyone who encountered him. Raised in the north, R’wign did not believe it wise to let any kind of weakness show, especially not if it could be used against him. Weakness later turned in his mind to ‘genuine emotions’ - anything that was real and not perfectly pleasant. He was incredibly good at pretending to always be happy, or making himself seem superficial, like a clown. Laugh at, never take seriously and expect nothing from. People were much easier to deal with when he had that level of distance between himself and them. Unfortunately, sitting naked in furs with someone after rolling around in a primal display of lust was a rather disarming position. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t keep himself completely guarded.

“Flights last awhile and -- well, after effects even longer,” R’wign replied with a slight roll of his shoulder. Indifference. “I can’t say I’m that surprised.” Then again, he had the distinct advantage of having experienced more than just dragon flights. While fire lizards were no where near as intense, it was still something akin to practice… or at least, R’wign was associating it with that. He remembered when Mona first flew and Li catching her, but that one thought about Li made his stomach twist uncomfortably. Even over a turn later, he missed his flits… the blues he’d lost and Li. He was also starting to believe the hole inside of him that they filled would never quite diminish, and that thought was extremely unpleasant. R’wign forced his mind off that topic before it could depress him.

Pushing himself back in the furs until his back was against the headboard of the bed, R’wign brushed his hair back over his shoulders. “Moth is a nice name,” he said with a slight nod. “I think it fits her well, too… at least, what I’ve met of her.” What was that -- was that stomach gurgling? So loud --!

Anything else he was going to say was cut off by Ellie’s reappearance. The gold unintentionally answered Tr’esn’s question by twittering in greeting and she flew over toward R’wign. She was not alone. She’d brought her brown, green and two blues with her, but also two other greens that R’wign recognized as the ones that looked to Ka’rys. The gold glided over and her group dropped the skin of klah into his hands, while the other two flits dropped two different mugs on the senior weyrling’s legs. Pleased with themselves, all but Ellie, Roxie and Hazard disappeared (presumably to go back to sleep). Roxie glided back to perch on one of the shelves, while Hazard and Ellie made themselves comfortable between Tr’esn and R’wign. The little queen looked up at her bonded expectantly, and practically purred in response to the grateful pat he offered her. Such a good human, he was, and always so good at reminding her of how pretty and smart she was. Yes, she’d made a good choice in him, she had.

“Guess so. D’you like klah? I had them go fetch some - figured you’d wake up soon if I was getting up and, yeah…” It sounded lame, but R’wign really was trying to be considerate. It just - what was proper post flight etiquette? How was he to know if he was violating it? Why did flights not come with a handbook? R’wign scrunched up his nose and bowed his head as he retrieved the mugs from his legs. He carefully moved to fill one of them, keeping his face hidden as he spoke so that Tr’esn would not be able to see the very obvious scarlet hue coming over his cheeks. Awkward topics had that effect on him. Even R’wign had some sense of modesty, contrary to popular belief, and he was able to be flustered… with the right leverage, of course. “Y’know, um… this is probably going to be an awkward question, but I’m not very good at tact and I’m going to explode if I don’t ask it soon. I didn’t -- you’re not hurt, are you?”

So gentle, she was. Checkoth’s eyes whirled more quickly. It was obvious from his posture how happy he was, and he was neatly ignoring the awkwardness coming from his land bound half; if R’wignHis would just calm down he would see what a wonderful mate Oquith was, and Hers was surely just as amazing as she. The brown crooned again, louder this time, surely so that the two humans would be able to hear him. Of course I do, he reassured her with no small amount of happiness in his voice. I am glad I didn’t wake you. I would not have wanted that, but I am also glad that you are awake. You are a magnificent dancer in the sky, Oquith. Someday, you should teach me to fly like that. I am no where near as graceful. Oh, but he remembered -- Are your wings hurt? Mine is a healer; he will help you if they are. He would, too, Checkoth knew. R’wignHis could fix anything.

[Avu]

Tr'esn honestly wished that he could be -- or at least appear to be -- half as casual as R'wign was on the topic of Flights. The other weyrlingrider didn't seem to...care. Dismissive. The greenrider blinked, cautiously rolling his shoulders again, and earning a reprimanding poke from Moth. Was he expected to be dismissive? He'd never missed a Weyrling Lesson, but in retrospect...had he maybe zoned out or something, during a post-Flight-etiquette lesson? Because, really? He had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to be doing. Like...was it assumed that the bedpartner would have already left by the time someone woke? How did this work? The questions that went whirling rapidly around his mind, none of which could Tr'esn find the answers to, only made him want to curl up entirely under the covers. "Oh," he said, softly, wrinkling his nose lightly in response to the brownweyrling's explanation. "I just -- didn't expect it to be this long, I guess. I don't know...it doesn't really matter, I guess."

He twisted, glancing around his weyr, towards the weyrledge, squinting to make out Oquith's emerald-green hide against Checkoth's brown. Very, very content, was the green. That was good, Tr'esn supposed. Better than if her first Flight had turned out badly, with some dragon she didn't like. A flicker of a tentative smile answered R'wign's comment on Moth -- it wasn't like Tr'esn had named the feline; the brownrider who'd died had, and Oquith had insisted on the name being carried on -- but he didn't answer, one elbow rising to nudge the feline off of his back so that he could sit up, too, automatically sitting cross-legged, furs tucked for warmth (and in order to conceal himself. So what if R'wign had seen it all already anyway?) over his lap and curled around him, Moth crawling out from under the covers to flop instead on his lap, butting her head insistently at the greenrider's hand as Tr'esn absently stroked her, grey eyes flickering around the weyr again.

So...just where were his clothes...?

The greenweyrling jumped slightly, startled by Ellie's reappearance -- and the reappearance of what appeared to be a full fair of firelizards. His nose wrinkled slightly as he peered through the curls that fell insistently over his eyes up at the gleaming hides. Gold -- brown -- blue -- blue -- green -- green -- and yet another green. Did all of them look to R'wign? He'd been aware of the weyrlingrider Impressing the gold firelizard, and -- well, a full fair of firelizards Impressing to one person was cause for jealousy, he supposed, so maybe he'd heard about them before and had just forgotten...? His stomach gurgled again, intent on making him aware of its unhappiness, as his gaze snagged on the skin carried by the firelizards. Of what? Wine? Water? Klah? Juice? Swallowing slightly, Tr'esn blinked and looked back at Moth, trying not to make it too obvious. Yes, there'd been two mugs. But that still didn't mean he should stare like that. Nope. Bad manners. Not going there.

Moth, meanwhile, upon seeing Hazard and Ellie both land on the bed, between the humanpet and the new bedstealer/attentiongiver, had slid off of Tr'esn's lap, and padded curiously towards the firelizards. Green eyes flickered between the two in clear hesitation, and then the feline flopped down onto her stomach, and purred loudly, wriggling forward to nudge the gold firelizard lightly with her nose. Whiskers twitched, and Moth scrambled backwards to sneeze. She blinked reproachfully at Ellie (how dare she make her sneeze!) and then, promptly, seemed to dismiss it, mrowling hopefully. Wouldn't the shiny like to play...?

The explanation drew a weak smile from the greenrider, but he answered, unable to resist the lure of klah. "I -- yes. Thanks." One hand rose from his lap, pushing his hair out of his eyes -- he really did need to cut it, or tie it back, though the latter would probably make him look even more like a girl -- as he watched R'wign through his eyelashes as the brownweyrling poured the klah. His eyes were entirely for the warm drink, though, and R'wign's question took him entirely by surprise. For a moment, Tr'esn merely blinked, and then a flush covered his own cheeks. "I -- it's -- um..." he faltered, and then shrugged weakly. "It's nothing I didn't expect," he finally managed, shrugging again. "First flight and all..." Thoughtlessly, the greenweyrling tilted his head forward, trying not to flush. Neh...Sel'n really hadn't done that good a job explaining, had he?

Checkoth's very obvious joy -- and his loud croon -- made Oquith even more pleased, the small green leaning her head against his shoulder and peering up at him, something like adoration shining her eyes. So sweet, he was. You don't need to worry, Check. I don't mind being woken up. Her head rubbed against the brown's hide affectionately, her tongue forking out to touch his shoulder lightly. And thank you -- very much. I'll gladly teach you. Whenever you want. Maybe after Weyrling Lessons someday? I don't have anything to do, after Weyrling Lessons. We could do it then. A pause, as Oquith carefully shifted her weight away from Checkoth, just enough to carefully flex each wing, before she crooned and then leaned back into him. Sore. But it's not a bad sore -- it's the kind that goes away really soon. I'll be okay. Thank you. It's very nice of you to ask. You're fine too, aren't you? I didn't mean for any of you to be hurt...

[glamourie]

If R’wign noticed Tr’esn’s interest in the skin of klah, he didn’t let it show. The answer was all he needed. He held out the mug he’d poured for the greenrider to take and offered him as reassuring a smile as he could muster up. Evidently he wasn’t the only one uncomfortable, though it was probably not for the same reason. R’wign honestly couldn’t decide what it was he wanted to do. The healer half of him wanted to check Tr’esn over for any bruises, tearing, bleeding, hurting and make it go away - that was what healers did, they fixed people, right? But the other half of him, the part of him that was Marra’s boyfriend, wanted very badly to flee the scene before things became more awkward. Should he have been gone? It seemed so rude to leave. “Thanks for the lay, bye!” just seemed like he was using someone… and even though R’wign didn’t know T’resn well, using him wasn’t on his agenda. The greenrider deserved much better than that. He deserved courtesy… though, what exactly qualified as courtesy after flight? So confusing. Well, at least he’d done something right in sending his fire lizards for the klah. That was somewhat reassuring.

“This seems to be as awkward for you as it is for me,” R’wign said with a slight smile; it was meant to be reassuring, but he wasn’t sure how well he did. He was nervous, too, after all. “I - I mean, not that - this isn’t going to work, tact isn’t my forte when I’m nervous, so uh… do you know what… post… flight… what we should be doing? I mean, it seemed so rude to - to just leave, because - yeah.” He felt stupid stammering on, and he was sure Tr’esn would think him an utter fool, but R’wign just couldn’t stop himself. “Is Oquith all right?” There. That was a fair question. “I remember you were rubbing your shoulder… during the flight. If either of you is hurt, I can look you over. Um. I promise to be professional…? Kalierre’s been teaching me for a few Turns about dragon healing, I think I qualify as at least a senior apprentice if I were to actually seek a rank in it.” He paused, then glanced at Tr’esn before grinning lopsidedly. “I talk when I’m nervous. I don’t want you to be angry with me, or feel slighted, or … mistreated, so I’m babbling anxiously…”

What was the Moth feline doing?

Ellie’s eyes whirled as Hazard bounced over to perch on Tr’esn’s legs. The little gold twitched her wings curiously before leaning her nose out to sniff at the feline herself. Then, abruptly, she mirrored the creature’s sneeze, her eyes whirling confused shades. The fire lizard bounced back a step, then cocked her head to the side inquisitively. Her tail curled behind her, and then she took to wing… but only for a brief second. The gold flew just far enough to land on Moth’s back, and then she settled herself down, her head bending over to look upside-down at the feline. A playful chirp escaped her, obviously encouraging. Wouldn’t the furry thing carry her around? Free ride, free ride! It would be fun, it would. (Ellie was neatly ignoring that Hazard seemed to feel she’d lost her mind; if the brown wanted to be confused/frightened of the fuzz ball, that was his right. She, however, was scared of very little, and it looked to her as if the feline would make a very good chariot, yes indeed.)

Blinking at his fire lizard, R’wign cocked his head to the side. “Ellie, what are you doing?” he murmured softly before scratching at his head. It didn’t look as though Ellie was hurting Moth, though, so he reached over to get the other mug and pour himself some of the klah…

In the dragon’s half of the weyr, Checkoth could have simply glowed… provided his hide was capable of it; he felt as if he was about to float up toward the ceiling of the cavern and actually moved his claws just to make sure he was still on the ground. Any praise pleased him; he was a dragon who was very happy with others being happy with him. But praise coming from Oquith was enough to make him feel as if he was on top of the world, as though nothing was wrong. He felt invincible, as if he could do anything if he but tried. Only one other entity had the gift of making him feel that good: R’wignHis. But R’wignHis was very distracted, he was, and Oquith was just as special in her own way. So perfect, she was; he knew he was lucky, and no part of him was ungrateful. The brown turned slightly so that he could rub his head along Oquith’s neck, as one of his wings lifted experimentally in response to her question. Such a sweet green! But he was okay; a little sore, but okay.

You didn’t get me hurt! I should’ve known I am not as graceful as you, not even close. But I don’t regret trying to follow you either. I would follow you wherever, he said, meaning every word.

But anything else he was going to reply was cut off by a very loud announcement from somewhere nearby, causing both Checkoth and R’wign to jerk in surprise. Klah spilled down R’wign’s bare chest, making him hiss, but that did not diminish the effect of the announcement:

Selenitas, be ready for the attack! Benden is here!

[Avu]

Leaning forward slightly to accept the mug of klah, Tr'esn curled his fingers around the warm cup, swallowing against the dryness as he mumbled softly, "Thanks." Shifting his fingers along the mug against the burning warmth, he blew across the surface of the liquid once before raising it to his mouth. The klah warmed his stomach, and he took another gulp on the heels of the first before he lowered the mug, resting his elbows loosely against his knees, the mug supported just above the cross of his legs. Now that his immediate thirst was sated, along with the fact that the warmth in his stomach took away from the nervousness and the desire to hide under the furs (a desire which he was very embarrassed by), Tr'esn was much more comfortable -- and much less likely to panic. Calm. Yes. It was easier to be calm, now. The firelizards and Moth -- they were part of that, too, though exactly why they made him less agitated wasn't immediately noted by the greenweyrling. But they did help.

As R'wign began to...rather incoherently...stammer, Tr'esn's eyes widened, in a mixture of embarrassment and almost relief. At least he wasn't the only one. Good. Very good. He was very relieved. If R'wign was just a little uncertain, maybe then -- maybe he had a right to be, too. He hadn't thought he ought to be nervous, had thought it was merely him. Deficit greenrider ahoy -- but maybe everybody else could just brush it away. Strike up engaging and instantaneous conversation, as if the awkwardness had never happened. Maybe he was alone. But now, at least -- at least he knew that R'wign wasn't as confident as he'd half-dreaded. The many questions -- that didn't really give him a chance to answer -- made the greenrider blink, thoughtfully appraising the cup of klah that he'd settled loosely on the furs. Post-Flight? Um...actually, Tr'esn didn't know either. He just -- didn't. Because, really? Who wanted to tell everyone what they talked about to someone they'd just had dragonlust-induced sex with? Tr'esn was willing to bet most people would rather keep that between themselves and that person. Hmm. "If you really want to -- or need to -- go, I won't mind," he offered uncertainly, one shoulder rising in a shrug. "I won't take it...personally, or anything...and, um...Qui's..." Fine, the green supplied. "...fine. So'm I...and...um, it's...it's okay." He was stammering, he was.

It wasn't that he'd slept with another man that so had Tr'esn -- squirmy, but rather that it was his first Flight ever; he'd lost his virginity; and he had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to be doing. He liked R'wign enough, and though the brownweyrling wasn't really a friend -- Tr'esn didn't know him well enough for that -- the greenrider still didn't want to alienate the other because of incompetence after a Flight. Yup. Awkwardness on all sides. Fun times, fun times. Taking another gulp of the klah, Tr'esn's gaze fell on Hazard as the brown firelizard perched on his lap, the greenrider absently offering him the cup of klah for lack of anything else to do, wondering distractedly if firelizards liked klah, too. Hmm.

Hey, what? The shiny sneezed at her? Moth mrowled curiously -- and then the firelizard was flying again. No fair! The feline's tail twitched mournfully, and her eyes followed Ellie as the gold firelizard...settled on her back. Instantly, the feline froze, eyes going slightly crossed as she tilted her head around as far as she could to see Ellie. What...what if the shiny fell off? But nevertheless, she did want to play, and playing stay-on-as-long-as-possible appealed to Moth. She slid with typical feline grace towards the end of the bed, and then abruptly pulled a face-about, scrabbling over the furs, which promptly got tangled around her forefeet and sent her sprawling into the nearest pillow. Eyes rolled upwards, trying to peer up at Ellie, and a low, confused mrowl that was almost laughter escaped the feline. Falling on soft squishy things was fun.

Oquith shifted sideways again to make it easier for Checkoth to flex his wing, and at his statement, the green uttered a pleased croon, starting to nuzzle her head under the brown's wing when --

Selenitas, be ready for the attack! Benden is here!

Contrary to R'wign and Checkoth both jumping, both Tr'esn and Oquith froze. Every muscle in the green's body was tense, abruptly, terrified, and one wing unfurled, anxiously, for a moment. Don't fly, Qui, don't go! Tr'esn's order, almost a plea, made her stop, indecisively, and then, with a low whine, Oquith tried to burrow into Checkoth's side, eyes wide, drawing comfort in the closeness and warmth of the brown's hide. Check, Checkoth, what do we do? she whispered uneasily, previous conversation completely gone from her mind. How do we know what's going on and where they are? Are they already /here/? The green squirmed ever closer to Checkoth, but her tail had slipped around her own haunches, the green curled into a little ball.

On the other hand, Tr'esn was merely staring at R'wign now, his face pale, half-hidden by his hair. R'wign was older, and ranked him as far as dragon color went, and instinctively, he was looking to him for instructions. It was what he'd always done: Just carried out the orders. And though once upon a time, he might have wanted to not have to follow orders -- right now, he almost yearned for them.

[glamourie]

It hurt. R’wign squinted, mopping at his chest with his fingers. The klah was very warm but, in some ways, the pain was welcome: it kept him focused. Fear twisted in his abdomen, sending tension up the rest of his body. Benden at Selenitas always resulted in a lot of deaths, and the very idea made his head spin. He wasn’t just a meaningless candidate to be overlooked anymore, either - he was actually a rider. Which meant he wasn’t someone they’d toss aside as worthless, overlook. R’wign grew up in Nerat - Benden territory. He remembered the way that they ran things, and he knew that even if Selenitas managed to salvage enough strength to fight them back… the losses would be devastating. Dread, that was the feeling that coursed through his veins along with an adrenaline rush that made him feel as if he could run faster than even Oquith could fly. But where would he run to? There was no where to run to. He glanced at Tr’esn.

That look. That was not a look R’wign wanted to see. It said without words that he was the one in charge. R’wign wasn’t good at leading. He just wasn’t. Under stress, he tended to work. What was he supposed to do? Fear flooded his system but R’wign tried to smile reassuringly; it didn’t quite work, but at least he managed to keep the terror from plastering itself on his features. That in itself was a miracle. He reached one hand over to rest it on Tr’esn’s shoulder. Even though they’d technically just slept together, the protectiveness R’wign felt was more like that of an older sibling wanting to protect the younger. He had a little sister. Religna. She was a greenrider, but she wasn’t there; he’d take care of Tr’esn the same way he would have her, if she was.

“I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t leave,” he said softly. The joke probably was inappropriate, but if he appeared calm, maybe Tr’esn would be able to stay calm, too. Lead by example, right? “We’re - I have to get to the infirmary. You should come with me. I don’t think being alone is a good idea right now, and at least at the infirmary, we’d have people to protect each other. You can probably be a valuable asset there, too. Do you want to come?” And just how were they going to get there? They couldn’t take the dragons. It just wouldn’t work. “Checkoth and Oquith will have to stay here. If Benden’s anything like they have been in the past, they’ll get cut out of the sky fast. We’ll have to go on foot and stay together -- should be safer that way. Is there room enough for both of them to move under inside…?”

Ellie twittered as the feline carried her around, and actually tumbled off the creature as she face-planted into the pillow. She fluted happily in response to landing on the pillow and wiggled around on her back, a show of glittering gold beauty in several different shades. However, her happiness was immediately cut off by the surge of fear that R’wignHers felt and she cocked her head to the side to sit up. Cautiously, she chirped at Moth, clearly instructing the feline to wait for her before she hopped onto R’wign’s leg. Her tail wound around his wrist reassuringly. She didn’t understand what was wrong, but Hers did not get upset and scared very often. She knew something was very, very wrong. The fire lizard looked up at him, waiting for instructions. She was good at following orders and maybe - maybe she could help him. Maybe she could do something.

R’wign’s concern for Tr’esn was mirrored in the large brown, who wound his body around Oquith protectively. His wings flared around her, as though to shield her from any attack that may have come. Rapid swirls of fear and anger passed through his eyes, leaving no doubt to his emotional state, and he nosed at her reassuringly. They must be. Jaxith wouldn’t have said that if they weren’t. R’wignMine will keep Yours safe, Oquith, I promise, and I will keep you safe. R’wignMine says if we move we’ll be in danger, so we have to stay here. We’ll be safe; I won’t let anyone hurt you. I’m big enough that I can make them go away if they come. We’ll be fine. Part of him even believed it: he was big, Oquith was pretty, and R’wignHis was the best person ever - surely if anyone could keep them from harm, it would be him.

The brown weyrlingrider turned to look over the edge of the furs for any sign of his clothes. He batted around for a moment, trying to recall exactly what he was wearing. Just pants, right…?

His thoughts were cut off very, very abruptly as two shadowed forms stormed into the weyr. One was a tall man with an inch or two on R’wign in height, while the other was a small woman with dark hair; both of them were shadowed by the darkness of the weyr, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that they were sneaking around… sneaking, perhaps, to deal with any of the riders lingering in the weyrs. Eliminate any potential threats before they could become serious. Both of the individuals stopped, and then one moved over to turn the glow basket, lighting the weyr up enough to see. It was the woman, and she stopped to point a knife in the direction of the bed as her partner moved over. Even the most casual of glances would tell she wasn’t from Selenitas: the heavy scarring was rare among the women inhabitants. She was clearly someone who had endured a lot of fights.

“I told you I heard talking from in here,” she said with an indignant sniff.

“Indeed,” her companion replied as he stalked over to the furs. She followed, and R’wign recoiled, jerking Tr’esn away from the approaching people with perhaps a little bit too much force. The male raised an eyebrow before smirking. “Two men in bed together, at that!” There was no small amount of disgust in his voice. Unsurprising, considering that Benden rarely looked highly on homosexual behavior - even after flights. R’wign narrowed his eyes, but the man grabbed him by the wrist and abruptly jerked him from the furs. The woman, on the other hand, moved to grab Tr’esn. “Get them out of the weyr - away from their dragons, so they can’t interfere. Then we can deal with this filth appropriately.”

The woman, probably smaller than Tr’esn, grabbed him by the hair and pushed him toward the door of the weyr; if he was smart, he’d walk without her guidance. The man was considerably less merciful. He tangled his fingers in R’wign’s dark hair and dragged him along the ground, R’wign stumbling the entire way. His bare feet scuffed the hard floor as he went, and the force and speed he was moving was enough to make him trip at least twice. Once they reached the hall, the man shoved him forward and R’wign fell backwards, hard enough to slam his elbows on the floor. It didn’t escape his notice that they’d left the both of them unclothed, but his eyes were only for Tr’esn - to make sure that the greenrider wasn’t hurt - while he attempted to mentally reassure Checkoth.

And Ellie was no where to be found. She’d disappeared between the second people arrived… most likely to go find help. She’d also taken Hazard with her.

[Avu]

Oh, oops...klah had been spilled. Tr'esn had forgotten his own cup, but he loosened his fingers from it, only then aware of the warmth that was burning his fingers. His gaze, however, stayed focused, blankly, on R'wign. He just...didn't know what to do. Orders. He just wanted instructions, something to do, to take his mind off of whatever it was Benden was planning. Were people dying...? Or -- that shriek; was it a dragon going between? Or just -- a warning? An alarm? Fear blurred his gaze, twisting in his stomach uncomfortably. Tr'esn's lip caught between his teeth, wide gray eyes flickering nervously towards Oquith, away from R'wign, for a second, his conscious mind falling towards Oquith's, seeking the green's reassurance. But there was none forthcoming from the dragon -- only from R'wign. The joke, the touch on his shoulder -- Tr'esn appreciated it. Easier, to cope with this, with someone else. Had he been alone, he would have been completely and utterly lost -- and, more likely than not, he'd be curled up as close to Oquith as he could get, trying not to move. Because, yes -- someone curled up in a tiny ball along a green dragon's flank was much safer than someone wandering around.

The weyrlingrider's suggests had Tr'esn nodding rapidly. He was ready to agree with anything, by now. Anything as long as he wasn't left alone (though, technically, it wouldn't be alone, he'd feel alone, without a source of comfort). One hand came up, brushing his hair out of his eyes, and he bit his lip again. Him, a valuable asset? Probably not, because -- really? He didn't know how to handle a knife, except to cut meat and vegetables. And meat and vegetables were not typically trying to kill you at the same time. He didn't do well with blood, either. A little bit, he could handle, but watching someone ruthlessly cut someone else down, as if they were just another stalk of grass to be stomped underfoot? -- Tr'esn really, really didn't think he'd be able to cope. "I...okay," he stammered. "They can try, I guess...? It's not really huge, but Oquith's small..." His gaze flicked around the room again, snagged on his trunk. He didn't need his original clothes, just as long as he got clothes.

Moth was forgotten, for the feline had, obedient to the gold firelizard's wishes, curled up into a tiny white ball of fluff along the edge of the pillow, watchful. She wanted her playmate back, she did. She liked Ellie. The firelizard was nice and she didn't yank on Moth's whiskers, like the other winged shiny one had. That had been a mean winged shiny. Not like this one. This one was nice...

Oquith didn't panic -- entirely, anyway. She was still trying to burrow into Checkoth's side, her small frame wriggling as she pressed herself against the brown, silently. The touch of hide against hers was comforting. It felt safe. Warm. Protected, from the outside and the hurt and the fear. But she was afraid, still, an entirely rational fear bubbling up inside of the green as she wormed her head under Checkoth's neck, burying her face against him. Let's go inside. I don't want to be out here, in front of everyone. We can go inside with Ours; I'd like it better if I were closer to him, Check...please let's go? Oquith didn't even try to hide her distress, one tremor running through the green's frame. I trust you, Check, but it's safer inside, I think... If there was no room for an intruder, then nobody could sneak up on them. She could face the weyrledge, and Checkoth could face the door leading to the rest of the weyr, and nobody could sneak in, and they would be protected. And Theirs could even squeeze inside with them, maybe...?

Tr'esn flinched backwards, terror flashing in his eyes, as two figures, moving almost silently, entered the weyr, one hand snaking sideways to push Moth entirely under the furs. The feline mustn't get hurt because of a human and dragon war. The sharp jerk from R'wign had Tr'esn squirming backwards, too, his throat tightening in raw panic. Clearly they weren't from Selenitas, the way the man addressed them. Two men in bed together. So what? He was -- Oquith had just -- they were from Benden. That explained it all. Mine, Minelove, Oquith began, clearly terrified, the green's neck shooting up from Checkoth's side and whirling around in agitation, but that was all they gave her a chance to get out before R'wign was jerked out of the furs, and the woman grabbed him, the greenweyrling giving an involuntary yelp of surprise as the pain of fingers closing tightly around his arm burned, the klah falling and shattering against the floor as he half-scrambled, half-fell out of the furs.

Oquith! he cried, instinctively reaching for the green's mind, and Oquith sprang instantly to her feet, and then whined in agitation. She couldn't get to him -- the green's tail lashed in her frustration, and she nearly cried out as she tried to squirm into the weyr -- to no avail. At the woman's shove, Tr'esn stumbled forward, flicking a glance behind him at R'wign, who was practically being dragged along, and then numbly walked. His cheeks were flushed and pale at the same time, creating an odd mixture of white and red. Some Holdbred part of him was horrified at the nudity, but fear overruled that as he stepped obediently into the hall. He just didn't know how to protest, and fighting would almost certainly result in death. At the thud of R'wign falling near him, and his gaze was anxious as it flicked towards the brownrider, a slight tilt of his head asking the wordless questions: Was he okay? And what were they going to do, exactly, now?

[glamourie]

Checkoth moved, slightly uncurling from around Oquith as the intruders arrived. He squirmed into the cavern as much as he could, moving quickly and slashed one of his paws toward the door -- only to scrape his claws along the ground. Snarling, the brown swatted again, but he couldn’t reach - couldn’t get close enough to do anything. His eyes whirled rapid shades of fear, and even R’wign’s mental reassurance did not calm him. Only recognition that Oquith was there, that Oquith needed him to stay calm, kept him that way. The brown ruffled his wings and then moved over toward the green again, curling protectively around her as much as he could. His own bulk would protect her from harm. But the position they were in gave both dragons a clear view of the hallway… where the evils had dragged their riders. Checkoth growled lowly, not at Oquith, but at the people. They couldn’t do a thing. Maybe Oquith could reach further…? But then, she was smaller, so probably not. His eyes whirled more quickly; he could feel R’wignHis in pain and it did not please him at all.

He’ll be okay, Checkoth offered weakly, knowing how lame he had to sound. He only wished he could do more to comfort her. He was scared, too, but it was his job to keep Oquith safe. He’d promised never to let her fall, after all. R’wignmine is with him, and the Elliegold went to find help. R’wignmine will keep Yours safe, Oquith. I can’t reach them. I’m sorry; I tried, I can’t…

R’wign brushed his hand over his elbow before shooting a reassuring look toward Tr’esn. Then he turned his attention to the man, who was eying him particularly contemptuously. Flinching against his better judgment, R’wign recoiled backwards, trying his best to mentally work out how to deal with them. He wasn’t a fighter, let alone good at impulse defenses, and while he was trying to process what was happening, the man moved over to pin him down on the floor, knees resting on his chest with suffocating weight. It all happened far too fast for R’wign’s liking, and he lifted his hands to fight only to find them pinned down from the man’s feet. The whole response took a matter of maybe thirty seconds, it happened so quickly, and R’wign’s blood ran cold with fear. Even someone who wasn’t versed in combat knew danger signs when he saw them, and R’wign knew nothing good could come of being pinned down. Not to mention he could do nothing to help Tr’esn from his position. That thought made him feel more guilty than the knowledge that he very well could end up dead before the night was out. Clearly his priorities were screwed.

While the man was pinning R’wign down, the woman grabbed Tr’esn’s arm and hauled him around to the side of the hallway… still within sight of the dragons, but well out of reach. Her gaze lingered on the weyr where the brown had tried to scratch and she crinkled her nose before pulling the greenrider’s arms behind his back. “If you don’t fight, I might have mercy,” she whispered to him, for only Tr’esn to hear. “Greenrider to greenrider. But only if you stay put and don’t fight.” She had more sympathy for him. He was a greenrider. He had no choice. The brown rider? That was another story entirely.

“Bring ‘im over, Isla - I want ‘im to watch,” the man said with a smirk that made the woman flinch and glance at Tr’esn. Leaning forward, the taller man removed a belt knife and put the blade against his bottom lip. “Pretty, arencha? ‘Specially for a man. Long black hair and what fine green eyes. I like green eyes, they’re my favorite.” The smirk that spread over his face was very, very unpleasant. “Kinda like the set I got earlier. Dark, just like yours, and a dark head of hair and barely formed breasts. Tell me, boy, you got a sister?”

The reaction R’wign had was instant. His entire body thrashed. Even though he knew it was a fool’s move, he fought back, squirming as much as he could to get himself free. The quick movements earned him nothing but a smack to the face and R’wign jerked, his head slamming to one side. He cringed and blinked rapidly to clear his vision. His stomach hurt, and it wasn’t a physical pain. Religna. Religna Religna Religna. The very idea of her being hurt frightened him. She was the only person at Selenitas with his eyes. Truly the only one. That made his words have foundation and R’wign couldn’t control the cold terror that washed through him. For a moment, Tr’esn was forgotten in the flood of agony, emotional and physical (he’d have a nice bruise in the morning). He reached out mentally to Checkoth, begging, pleading with his brown to find Ith - to talk to Ith - to let him know that his baby sister was all right… and Checkoth did not reply. In some ways, silence was more telling than words. Ith hadn’t answered Checkoth. He knew it without words. Religna was dead.

Isla glanced toward Tr’esn, almost apologetic, and then nudged him forward along the wall. She pulled him around until he was at a good angle to see R’wign’s face as well as her partner’s, and then she held his wrists firmly. It would’ve been difficult for him to get away… but she wasn’t hurting him. Isla was being very careful for that. She meant her words. If she could keep him simply tied up and put in a corner, out of harm’s way, she’d do it… she just hoped that the little boy (a mere child in her eyes) didn’t try to protect his… friend? Whatever they were. If he did, she’d have to hurt him, and that wasn’t in his best interests at all.

“Keep squirming, pretty boy,” the man said through a toothy smile that made R’wign scowl in disgust. “You’ll be joinin’ her soon, I promise. I just want a collector’s piece first…”

“That’s a very gross habit, I’ll have you know. Eyeballs. Do they rot? I bet they do,” Isla replied with a scowl.

“Be quiet, or I’ll make you blow that one while I watch.” The man turned his gaze toward Isla and Tr’esn and he raised an eyebrow suggestively. She flinched, and he turned back to R’wign before leaning down over the weyrlingrider’s face. “I think I’ll take the left one first… Smile pretty for the knife, pretty boy. Smile very pretty…”

Then he leaned over with the knife. One hand came up to force R’wign’s eyelid open, despite the brown rider’s rapid blinking. A loud creel came from the weyr - undoubtedly Checkoth - and then the knife slid in at the corner of the eye. The sound that escaped R’wign was a barely human scream that reverberated off the stone walls and brought forth a smile from the Benden rider. He moved the knife around and - quite literally - removed the eyeball from its socket. The entire process took only a couple of minutes, and it left blood pooling down the left side of R’wign’s face while the healer writhed in agony. The stolen prize was moved to a belt pouch before the Benden rider smashed his knee hard into R’wign’s chest to keep him from squirming too much. There was an audible sound of cracking as he leaned forward, one finger twisting in the blood on the boy’s face. He brought it to his lips and licked it off with a devilish smile that would’ve been nauseating if R’wign could have seen it at all, but the response that he had was only to cough and sputter, while shivering in pain; his ribs were most definitely cracked, and his entire chest felt heavy. Certainly not good.

“Don’t worry… you won’t live long enough to miss them --”

“Hey, uglies! Why don’t you pick on someone who knows how to defend themselves!?”

Startled by the voice, but Isla and the male rider with her turned to look over their shoulders. Isla accidentally released Tr’esn’s wrists and her eyebrows raised, while the smile that played over bronze rider’s face was far from pleasant. The reason? The voice belonged to a small girl, almost eight turns old, decked out in black with blades enough to make her resemble a little warrior. The hallways were lit up enough that anyone could see her, and she had a gold fire lizard resting on her shoulder: Ellie. But more curious than that was that her face was a mirror image of one of Selenitas’s Wingleaders. Kalerary had come to rescue R’wign and Tr’esn.

[Avu]

Checkoth couldn't reach. That almost certainly meant Oquith couldn't. She could probably slide her whole front leg through, but still, it wouldn't be long enough to reach Theirs, and, lacking the claws on her left foreleg meant that at least one foreleg was more or less useless. The green whined in agitation, pressing her mind tightly against Tr'esn's, so tightly that her vision blurred and half-meshed with his in an odd sort of overlapping image. Checkoth curling around her again had Oquith whimpering, her eyes focused tightly on Hers and Checkoth's, as she tried to sink entirely into the brown, as if she was trying to melt into him. His apology, though, made her gaze, wide and terrified, flicker to him for a second, and then, in that instant, she became guilty, as something seemed to register upon the green. Her entire body cringed, drooping. It's not your fault. I'm sorry, Check, I'm so so sorry, I didn't -- if I hadn't -- if I'd held off -- Flying -- Yours wouldn't be -- he'd be safe. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... Part of the green wanted to crawl away -- because it surely was her fault, and Checkoth would hate her -- but she couldn't bear to part with her comfort source, and, in a rush of indecisive panic, buried her head under the brown's wing.

Tr'esn was nearly panicking. In terms of panicking, he tended to being more malleable when he was panicking than he normally was, and he simply stood there, frozen, large eyes fixed on R'wign, body quivering slightly -- a Terran deer, was the greenrider, on the verge of bolting. The man pinning R'wign down nearly pushed the instinct of fleeing back to Oquith completely to the front of his mind, and he twitched visibly, dreading the worst. What did Benden Riders do to two weyrlingriders they'd managed to catch? Just slit their throats? Torture? His stomach twisted sickeningly, and his vision blurred in his panic as he almost thoughtlessly tried to thrust his mind to merge with Oquith's, the green's precense in his mind terrified and alive. Qui...can you -- what can we -- how will we get out of this -- can you call someone?[/b] he stammered, swallowing. Who? whimpered the green -- and honestly, she had a point. Qualuth and Wymeth couldn't help them. K'iel and Vashti were either elsewhere, or they'd already been killed, probably. It just didn't help.

As the woman jerked at Tr'esn, the greenweyrling stumbled numbly, obediently, after her, heard Oquith's low, panicked whimper, too terrified -- and unsure -- to fight back as she pulled his arms behind his back, rendering helpless even if he'd wanted to do anything. Her words, though, resulted in a wide-eyed look, and he bit his lip tightly, passing the message automatically, in a deadpan voice, to Oquith, to reassure the green, felt her relax marginally. But still, he didn't want R'wign hurt. He liked R'wign. The brownweyrling was nice, and he couldn't just stand by and watch him killed. It went against every instinct, and he'd never be able to live with himself if he just watched -- did nothing but watched. Only...only a monster could do that. The man's order to bring him back over made Tr'esn twitch -- and he shrank backwards, almost towards Isla, instinctively trusting the woman more than the man. She was...nicer. Wide gray eyes flicked nervously towards Oquith, the green uttering a low whine in the back of throat.

And then R'wign's reaction to what the man's words had Tr'esn biting his lip, his inhale mixed with a sob. Instantly, he was horrified by the weak terrified quality of the noise, but he couldn't help it. There were no tears, but he didn't have to be experienced to know that writhing around like R'wign was meant nothing good. It meant he did have a sister -- and that sister was probably dead, now. And it gave the Bendenite all the more reason to kill him. The greenrider's entire body quivered, shoulders hunching protectively. His breath was coming hard and fast, quivering against teeth clenched to keep from crying out in pure panic. That the man was speaking again didn't truly register until -- what? Collector's piece? And then -- eyeballs. Tr'esn's throat constricted, and his heartbeat fluttered in his chest, skipping a beat. It was very, very obvious, what the Benden rider was planning to do, and he didn't want to watch any of it. And yet -- it was impossible to close his eyes. The greenrider tried to slide backwards, gaze flickering towards the weyr, head tilted backwards in order to catch sight of Oquith, the green thrusting her mind against his, more due to panic than to support him.

Then R'wign's scream had him positively writhing, his breath catching with sobs. He didn't try to break free of Isla's grasp, but his body cringed, teeth sliding together painfully. Torture. It was torture, what they get from torturing two weyrlingriders? -- Tr'esn squeezed his eyes shut, then, mind reeling, as the male Rider drew some of the blood pooling from R'wign's face onto his finger, and licked it off. Bloodthirsty...what...he had to do something. He cringed again at the crack of bones, eyelashes fluttering open. Bleeding. He needed to stop it. How did he stop it?! He was already getting ahead of himself. He needed to get to R'wign, first, and make sure he didn't get killed along the way; that'd do neither of them any good.

"Hey, uglies! Why don't you pick on someone who knows how to defend themselves!?"

Tr'esn twitched, gaze flying to Kalerary. -- what? She couldn't be more than nine or ten Turns old, and yet she was dressed like a warrior. Knives. And -- his heart jumped painfully, with a hope that slipped away. Ellie. But -- how good could a little girl be? The thought didn't linger, for he'd been released. Unfortunately, the instinct to drop to his knees and try to make sure R'wign was -- well, not all right, but going to survive -- was nearly overwhelming. And it couldn't be followed through, because the male Rider was still pinning the other weyrlingrider to the ground, and if he got too close, he'd probably be stabbed there and then. Nevertheless, seeing as he was free, Tr'esn did want to stay that way. He could borrow one of the little girl's many knives and -- well, he didn't think he'd be able to bring himself to kill someone. But he could...he'd have to. A quick glance over his shoulder, and Tr'esn bit his lip, edging sideways from Isla, and then pressing his back against a wall to keep her from grabbing his wrists again, praying that the little girl could stay alive.

"R'wign..." The word was barely a whisper, riding on an exhale, and after that, he stopped.

Because, really. What was he supposed to do?!

[glamourie]

It wasn’t her fault! Checkoth nuzzled Oquith as best he could; he nuzzled her neck gently, trying to comfort. Whether it was efficient or not, he didn’t know, for the brown was visibly shaking. The run-off of pain he felt from R’wign was terrifying him. No part of the dragon blamed Oquith, though - he was simply… very… very scared. He blamed the evil man that was hurting His, because it was his fault. And he couldn’t get to R’wignHis and help him. He hurt so much, so much. The low noise that escaped Checkoth could only be described as a piteous whine, like an animal kicked hard. He squirmed and nuzzled his entire body against Oquith, taking comfort from her proximity. He couldn’t protect His. He obviously wasn’t a very good dragon if he couldn’t do something to keep His safe. He wanted, more than anything, to squeeze his way through and bite the horrible person hurting R’wign… but last time he’d tried to squeeze through doors, he’d gotten stuck. He was too big. The brown shivered and keened loud enough that everything nearby would be able to hear him - all the dragons on nearby ledges doubtlessly would be aware of the source.

It’s not your fault, he offered to Oquith, but his voice was weak. It’s not your fault at all, Oquith, not at all, I’m not mad at you, R’wignmine isn’t mad at you… but Ith, Ith is gone Oquith, Ith is gone and Hers was mine’s clutch brother. He’s so upset, and he hurts all over and - and I can’t save him - I don’t even - what do I do?

Though he heard Tr’esn say his name, R’wign was unable to move. He could barely see through unshed tears, mostly from pain. It took all of his effort to mentally reassure Checkoth - or try to. Not that his mental words were doing anything to calm the brown down, but at least it kept him from fading into unconsciousness from the sheer amount of agony he was in. He just hoped it would last long enough for him to figure out some way to fight back - something he could do to save himself. R’wign did not want to die. Even though he was very upset, he knew in his heart that wasn’t what he wanted. But what was he supposed to do? He’d never even got a chance to tell Marra goodbye. He owed her that, at least… and Tr’esn was counting on him, wasn’t he? To do something?

The weight on his chest lessened and he choked, surprised by how little air had gotten through until that point. His head jutted upward as he felt the bronze rider on his chest get up and turn. Through his blurred vision, he could see … Kalerary? Kalerary and Ellie? No - no. Kale was a child. What was she doing? She was going to get herself killed. R’wign sat up as best he could, scrambling with both hands to push himself upright. He had to stop her, had to make her --

“Like you?” the man replied, and R’wign swatted at… the air where his ankle was. He’d moved. “Your face looks familiar, little girl. Tell me, why is that?”

“Like I’m going to tell you,” Kale replied with a half-glance toward Tr’esn and Isla. He was… naked. Awkward. She blushed, but tilted her chin up defiantly as the bronze rider started toward her. “If you want to know, you’ll have to catch me.” She smirked, then turned on her heel and bolted with an almost unnatural speed. She was fast for a child, her small size helping to benefit her, and when she ran, she didn’t even slightly look back. Ellie vanished from her shoulder, and the little girl bolted around one of the corners. Her motivations were simple: She was small, she could hide, and she knew very well why they recognized her face. If they were chasing her, they wouldn’t be hurting R’wign and the greenrider, and she believed (perhaps with an arrogance on par with her father’s) that she could get away unscathed. Kalerary was confident in herself.

The bronze rider fell for the bait, springing to his feet after Kalerary with an alarming amount of speed for a man his size… but nothing compared to the little girl’s. Isla waited for a heartbeat, then turned back to Tr’esn and R’wign, “The infirmary is under attack. So is the Weyrling Barracks, and the Wherhandler’s Apartments. You’re safer staying up here and quiet, they probably won’t notice you.” She paused, then turned to Tr’esn, addressing him instead of R’wign. “If you must move out of these hallways, stay under cover. Outside, like the girl is heading. There’s more places to hide out there, and forces are more scattered. Avoid any congregations.” If her words didn’t make it obvious that she wasn’t an enemy, her next actions would. She removed a knife from her belt, then handed it over to Tr’esn before bolting after the bronze rider in the direction that Kalerary went.

R’wign shivered visibly as he pulled himself up to sit properly, then moved as though to stand. His fingers brushed the ground and blood dripped off the bottom of his chin. Again he coughed, small amounts of blood staining around his teeth: he probably had internal bleeding. “We need -” he began, sputtering; he was having too much trouble breathing to talk efficiently, or to grasp much of what the woman said. “Kale - we need - we’ve got to help her. She’s just a little girl…” He couldn’t see right. Everything looked odd to him, and R’wign had to blink away tears. He needed to do something to slow his bleeding or he’d be useless to everyone, and he needed to find out how bad his chest was injured. Cracked ribs, he’d wager. As Ellie landed on his shoulder, he pointed forward, “- Go after her, Ellie… don’t leave her alone. Go. Take the others, go with her.” Ellie looked at him for a moment, and R’wign stared at her with one eye before the gold chirped obediently and disappeared. Once she was gone, R’wign stumbled to the wall nearest Tr’esn and mumbled, “A-are you okay?”

[Avu]

Oquith was quite literally trembling, her entire body quivering as she pressed herself tighter against Checkoth. Her three eyelids fluttered in rapid agitation: She so wanted to close her eyes, childishly wishing that closing out the vision could close out the terror as well, but another part of her couldn't bear not to know what was happening. She had to know, to make sure Hers would be all right -- alive -- unhurt. Checkoth's was already hurt. She had felt Tr'esn's terror and shock, his repulsion, as clearly as if it were her own emotions, and Checkoth's keening, too. They both knew, and her terror had reached a level that was practically overwhelming. Her muscles were tense, tight, and her wings trembled visibly as a low creel echoed Checkoth's keen, her breath coming fast and quivering, sides expanding and falling rapidly. She didn't know what to do -- she'd never felt so helpless before. What could she do? The entire Weyr was fighting. Scrambling. And she was stuck on the weyrledge, and Hers might die, and Checkoth's might, and she was so useless and she wanted to be yelled at. It might help erase the guilt, the panic, that rose up, chokingly tight in her throat.

I don't /want/ it to be my fault, the green answered, distressed as she squirmed tighter against Checkoth's flank, as if trying to simply melt into the brown's hide. I don't...but it is. It is, it is, isn't it? Her tones rose, brinking on hysterical. A shudder ran down the length of the green's body, her tail flipping spasmodically at the end, as Tr'esn automatically touched her mind, encouraging her to stay calm. She inhaled, and then exhaled in a low whine. Not your fault. I don't -- I -- Mine's upset -- just -- Her body shuddered again, edging towards panic. I don't know, I don't know -- maybe just tell him you love him? Don't let him fall, Check, don't...don't let him fall... Curling up, the green uttered another soft whine. That's all...I don't know -- what else -- I -- I'm sorry, Check...

Tr'esn's attention was focused mainly on R'wign, but as the bronzerider addressed the little girl, his gaze darted up again, and he squirmed, wishing he could make some sort of motion to signal her away. She was just a little girl. Knives aside, she was helpless -- and what were the chances she could fight off a fully-trained Benden bronzerider? Not likely...he gulped, nervously, but as the bronzerider got off of R'wign, focused on Kalerary, the greenrider edged a little closer, nudity and the embarrassment that came with it forgotten in the blur of tears in his own eyes. Not of pain -- for Isla hadn't hurt him at all -- but those of utter helplessness, panic, terror. The brownweyrling was missing an eye now. Could he have done anything? Probably not. But just maybe -- what if it was his fault? Because he hadn't stopped the bronzerider, hadn't made him stop -- ? One hand rose slowly, Tr'esn hesitantly, uncertainly, trying to catch Kalerary's attention and signal for her to run, but before he could actually do anything, she'd already turned on her heel and bolted, Ellie disappearing from her shoulder.

And the bronzerider chased her.

Instantly, Tr'esn bit his lip hard, to keep from crying out after Kalerary, and a second later, regretted it as his teeth broke through the skin of his lip entirely, the salty, metallic taste of blood warm in his mouth. The slight twinge of pain went ignored, though, as he started towards R'wign -- and then spun around towards Isla again, remembering the woman, gray eyes widening nervously. But rather than killing them and then going after Kalerary, she was...instructing them. Helping them. Infirmary. Weyrling Barracks. Wherhandlers' Apartments. Stay up here. Yes. He wanted nothing more than to curl up with Oquith right now. Otherwise, outside. He nodded, so rapidly that his curls flicked around his eyes, and then, eyes widening, he took an involuntary step backwards as Isla pulled out the knife, and...gave it to him? A bewildered blink, and then Tr'esn hesitantly curled his hand around the hilt. It felt oddly familiar in his hand -- probably due to Turns cutting things in the kitchens. But it was still different, and he stared at it for a moment before he managed a weak nod for the greenrider as she ran after Kalerary and the bronzerider.

And then, he whirled around to R'wign again, knife dropping in his urgency. The brownweyrling's broken words made Tr'esn cringe, eyes widening. What? Go after Kalerary? He didn't look like he'd be able to move so much as a foot, never mind run at top speed through the weyr's passages. As R'wign managed to stand upright against the wall next to him, Tr'esn took a deep breath. It was easier to think, now that the first emergency had ended. Now, he could think. R'wign was bleeding. Badly. That had to be fixed, first. They could run all they'd like, but R'wign wouldn't get far if he dropped dead for bloodloss. And Oquith and Checkoth were probably panicking. It was safer, here. His question drew a faint twitch from the greenweyrling, almost guiltily. "I'm fine," he answered softly, stooping to pick up the knife. "But you're not." Qui, calm down. I'm okay. We'll take care of R'wign now... It was an oddity of Tr'esn's: Just as soon as the immediate danger passed, he could think again. But during the emergency, without instructions? Not a chance. "The greenrider gave me this," he added, nervously, vaguely waving the knife in one hand. "I -- she'll -- she wouldn't let him hurt Kale..."

He was still trembling, but nevertheless, Tr'esn offered an uncertain hand towards R'wign. "You're b-bleeding," he pointed out, stuttering slightly. Thank you, Master Obvious. Wasn't he a Healer, too? "Umm..." Oh. He didn't like blood. Not this much blood. Not from someone's eye. Weakly, his voice quavering halfway through, the greenweyrling offered uneasily, "Umm...if you tell me what to do, I can...I can try to -- to -- you know. Stop the...bleeding...?" R'wignCheck's? Oquith added, worming forward and addressing the brownrider directly, something she had absolutely no problem doing. Mine, Tr'esnMine, the green's said it was dangerous out there. Bring him in here, yes? "And...yeah...I can help you get into the weyr, too...?" R'wign was tall -- a lot taller than him -- but at least it was something.

[glamourie]

It is NOT your fault. Despite how upset he was (and Checkoth was quite upset, though calming down rapidly as the danger for R’wignHis started to diminish), none of it was directed at Oquith… only worry. His ‘voice’ sounded scolding, though, or at the very least, quite serious for Checkoth. Usually he was innocent, patient and happy, but there was an underlying edge of upset - because Oquith should never feel it was her fault that His got hurt. He didn’t, and neither did R’wignHis. None of this is your fault, Oquith, none of it. R’wignMine isn’t mad at you, or Yours. His wings ruffled, but he nuzzled the green affectionately, to make it clear he wasn’t angry with her. The panic R’wign felt was slowly ebbing away, and Checkoth was calming down. Where was Behruth? Was he okay? He didn’t want to ask; what if he was busy fighting…? Nuzzling Oquith again, Checkoth turned to look toward the door of the weyr. R’wignMine says he will be okay. He says they both will be okay, that the evils are gone. They can come back and we can keep them safe, we can. Don’t be upset, Oquith. Yours is not hurt, R’wignMine says, so everything will be okay.

It took some doing to balance himself out. R’wign grasped the side of the stone wall to make himself level and took a long, slow breath, inhaling deeply. He blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the feeling of… of his eye being missing. The thought made him nauseous. Once he got himself standing properly, he took another deep breath. Tr’esn’s explanation made him smile and he nodded weakly. Knife was good. He couldn’t use it though. Not because R’wign wasn’t a fighter - he was, in some ways - but because being a healer meant he was hardwired to save lives, not take them. He didn’t know if he could handle the idea of actually hurting someone. R’wign took too much pride in himself to do that. When he became a healer, it was with the promise to protect and save, not to end other people’s lives. His mind just didn’t function that way; he wasn’t capable of being ruthless and brutal. The idea made his blood run more cold than the prospect of dying.

“We -” What? Speaking in his mind? Not Checkoth; female. Feminine. Oquith? R’wign turned his head toward the weyr, then back to Tr’esn. He didn’t seem to be hurt. For some reason, that pleased him immensely. R’wign had no problem taking a beating, so long as it kept someone else safe. He - he hadn’t managed to protect Religna. His stomach twisted into a knot again. But Tr’esn wasn’t hurt; Tr’esn was safe. He’d kept Checkoth’s promise, at least, and that meant more to him than saving his own vision. Maybe it was pride talking, but if he could keep one person safe, that made it worthwhile. And they’d both survived. He’d happily give up his eye again if it meant keeping them both alive. The sacrifice was minor in the grand scheme of things. “We’ll have to - to bandage my eye off, yes, and I think my ribs are cracked. We -” He laughed nervously, and it hurt to do so, but - “We should probably get dressed, too. I didn’t look… are you in the large singles, or small? Do you have your own bath…? I need to - to clean it… and my face…”

He also needed bandages. A lot of them. He had all of his supplies in his weyr, but how was he supposed to get down there? Odds were, they couldn’t fly, and he wasn’t sure they could walk that far. His fire lizards were distracted with chasing down Kalerary, too. Which meant he was in a lot more trouble than he’d ever before acknowledged. R’wign frowned, then stepped over, half-stumbling, toward Tr’esn’s weyr. If nothing else, they had to get dressed. He couldn’t go back to his weyr without help, either, and the idea of wandering around alone didn’t appeal to him. Was there anyone Checkoth could call? Most people were probably fighting; tearing someone away would’ve been horribly selfish. What to do, what to do? Was Kalerary okay? He doubted it; what would happen to her? Tr’esn said the woman wouldn’t hurt her, and she hadn’t hurt Tr’esn… who was she? All of the questions milled through his mind, but the brown rider said nothing.

Before they could do anything for his eye, they’d need to get supplies somehow… and they’d need to get dressed. Running around naked, no matter how much he enjoyed it, never solved anything.