A Flight-Mixed Cocktail (S'rei)

[kysseh]

He had at least risen to follow her, but Aliscia thought, for a brief moment, that he would resist. She would not have been offended if he did. Faolan had been through enough that she knew of, and who knew what else had been done to him? No, she did not want to distress him if this brought back painful memories, but she did want to ease his discomfort. It was a delicate situation, and she just had to wait for him to decide, watching him wrap his arms around himself as though he were cold. She was not going to argue about the temperature of the floor, and being partially unclothed probably made things much, much worse. The South was much warmer than the north, but occasionally, she thought the chill would never leave her bones.

Oh, shards. She was sounding old again.

It seemed like an eternity until he decided, but Aliscia breathed a notable sigh of relief as he decisively stated that she would not hurt him. She did not intend to, and that probably had to make clear. "No, I'd never hurt you on purpose. I just.... I know that sometimes scars are very sensitive. And if yours are like that to the point where it's very painful, then please tell me so." This was an exceptionally prolonged sort of conversation... though she was grateful that he was not desperately--subserviently, almost--clinging to her legs like he had before. It made her feel... inhumane. He still thought himself a slave, but she could not bring herself to treat him that way. Request his help, surely. Demand it? Never. She was a forward woman but not an imperious one. She left that up to the goldriders and the greenriders who thought they rode arrogant golds. Idiots.

He was lying before her now, though it didn't take a touch for her to see how tense he was. He was rather exposed this way, though the fact that he had his head turned to watch her cheered Aliscia a great deal. She had seen some of the dragonless slaves... seen them beaten so frequently that they simply looked away or dully stared straight down. He had been subjected to much, but... he was not as completely broken as she had originally thought. His back, though.... his back looked so terrible. She looked over it with a saddened, weary expression, so lost in her thoughts of how terrible it was that she very nearly missed his quiet declaration. She shook her head. "No, Faolan. What was done to you was ugly. People should not be allowed to do this to other people."

She had to force herself to look away and carefully used her good hand to brush his hair off his back and over to the shoulder opposite her. There. Now she could see his face and reach the entirety of his back, and she gently smoothed a hand along the back of his shoulders, careful to not apply anything but the lightest bit of pressure. She almost had to prove to herself that she could be gentle, so timid was he. The hand was removed, fingers dipped into the salve. She paused, trying to sort out where to start amidst the pitiful state of the skin... or what was left of normal skin. Eventually, she settled for just starting at the back of his neck and working away from herself and slightly downward, very gently massaging the mixture into his skin and following the lines of skin regrowth where she could. It probably felt a little chilly to him at first touch--it did to her, anyway, but she used it only on her face--but her fingers should have been warm enough to soothe away any remaining chill. It had been... a long time since she had touched anyone this way, but her fingers seemed to remember. That, and it was almost like working tonic into riding straps, except the riding straps were alive and radiating a great deal of warmth at the moment. "Are you doing all right?" she asked, stopping her hand movements and tilting her head to one side to look down at him.

[reqqy]

The dragonless nodded, almost imperceptibly, at Aliscia. He already knew that, or thought he did, about her. She hadn't struck him or yelled at him even once since he came to live here, so he could almost believe she wouldn't. Almost. No, he wasn't afraid that she would hurt him, at least on purpose. Faolan simply felt uncomfortable with how much attention she was giving him, as he wasn't used to it, and his back was rather sensitive. There was no denying that. He could handle gentle touches readily enough - at least, he thought he could, given no one had bothered before. The man could wear a shirt unless he was trying to sleep. That was about the same thing, right? His hesitation came from those two things and the almost certain fear that once she got a close look at his back, her attitude toward him would shift. Faolan genuinely liked the warmth - even if it confused him regularly.

Her expression drew a soft frown from him. What was she thinking? It seemed almost - sad - but that couldn't be right. At that moment, Cherry woke up with a start, digging her claws into his head to keep from falling out of her little nest, which was now at a decidedly bad angle for sleeping. Faolan lifted a hand for her to crawl into, setting her down on the bed, where she proceeded to snuggle up to his shoulder as close as she could and try to get back to sleep. His expression hadn't shifted, nor his gaze, throughout the entire scene. It might have, but for Aliscia's words, which had surprised him on a level deep enough that it didn't even register on his face. Or, rather, what did show in his expression was wholly different than expected given the normal range of reaction he usually displayed.

Faolan's eyes had narrowed, lips tightening into a line, a wariness creeping behind every line of his face, subtle, but definitely there. He didn't trust her, saying such things. The bluerider was very much present in that expression. No, he dominated it, as this woman was a woman who owned slaves, which meant that she at least agreed with the trade enough to support it on some level. And in doing so, she couldn't despise their practices altogether that much. It wasn't as if Faolan was a rare case, either. He'd been a difficult one at times, and perhaps was slightly unusual in that his slight, seemingly fragile frame had taken the beatings relatively well while others died from shock or infection or simple, overwhelming despair. He was simply too perverse to give his masters the satisfaction of completely breaking him down, though he did - he did! - want to give up so many times. Still did, on occasion. When he thought about...eh.

Aliscia was his mistress, and she was the nicest owner he'd had, but that didn't change the nature of their relationship, and the moment she started speaking against the trade she was a part of, he felt the suspicion gather. What was she up to?

It took a moment for Faolan to throw up his defenses again, to wipe the rider from his face and hide the emotion behind his eyes. A good thing, too, for it was then that the final barrier of his hair was brushed aside, the curls falling over one shoulder and spilling onto Cherry, who crooned softly and tangled her limbs in his hair with a contented air. Then her hand was upon him, and the gentleness - came as a surprise. The fact that she decided to go through with this at all mildly perturbed him, but she did so lightly enough that the sensation was only slightly uncomfortable against the scar tissue. It didn't disgust her to touch him? To touch those...scars? Despite himself, Faolan found himself relaxing beneath her touch, the vague sense of discomfort negligible.

His chin fell on his hand, and he stopped watching her every move, that in itself displaying clearly that he trusted her at least that much. Actually, the carefully schooled facial expressions - or, rather, demeanor that was almost another personality entirely - faded, replaced by a simple weariness. A staggering, profound emptiness and a sorrow so deep if you just looked into his eyes, which were unfocused somewhere around the vicinity of Aliscia's neck, you'd likely be afraid to drown in them. Both sides of Faolan came together and met for a moment, the rider and the slave, each at their most vulnerable, their most open. Brought out by the gentle touch of Aliscia's hand.

He blinked at her question, passing his free hand before his face in a gesture of weariness. "Yes, I'm fine," he responded, and if there was a touch of disbelief in his own words, they were most certainly his own, not the puppet's Fort had created. He went out on a limb, then, regarding Aliscia with a clear, penetrating stare. "Why are you doing this?" It was obvious that he meant her treatment of him in general, his questioning look yielding a quick intelligence behind his gaze. He didn't...understand her. Aliscia was not what he had come to expect, and, in truth, it was dangerous for him that she wasn't. Faolan couldn't separate himself as easily when there was nothing obvious to protect himself from.

[kysseh]

Aliscia had been initially dismayed by Cherry's awakening, more than relieved when Faolan managed to settle her down beside his shoulder to sleep. She wanted to stroke the little creature to comfort her, but it would've kept the poor creature awake. Evidently, she needed sleep as much as Faolan and Aliscia both did. Hmm... well, it was going to be difficult to get Faolan to leave the bed with Cherry asleep there, though Aliscia was starting to like him being in close proximity. If only.... yes, if only. That's all it was.

His expression at her words had her incredibly startled, though she attempted to not let it show. The sudden suspicion in his face was an altogether new and startling sort of expression, and she wondered how much of him was left behind the submissive act he put forward. No... not an act. It seemed genuine enough. Shards, but it was hard to tell! The expression faded quickly enough as his face was better revealed, though. Cherry seemed to like it, which brought a faint smile to Aliscia's scarred face. At least one of the three of them was at peace. She missed her own flits now, wishing they were still alive. One had died with B'rom in Threadfall. The other had... mysteriously disappeared and left her... all alone. She had a suspicion that that had not been an accident, but dwelling on it now did little good.

Her smile widened a bit as she felt him relaxing beneath her touch. She still had it, apparently, and she dipped her fingers into the jar for more salve and then returned to her ministrations, glimpsing the change in his posture in her peripheral vision. He was... watching her still, though not as intently. She flicked her gaze over and had to look away just as quickly. Had her gaze lingered, she would have been unable to turn aside from the deep, heartfelt sorrow that his eyes had just too much of. He looked tired. She felt tired, so she supposed that made them even, in that small way. It still bothered her, that expression he had given her before when she stated that people should not be permitted to so injure other people. Was she a hypocrite? Maybe in his eyes. In her own, she certainly was. She had done her fair share of killing, albeit always in defense of herself and her Tanith. But... that was not a conversation she wanted to have right now. She was too tired to think that deeply about it.

The disbelief in his voice had her raising an eyebrow and looking more closely at his face. He was staring at her as if he could discern what she was thinking, and she briefly wondered if he could. His question had her blinking in confusion before she realized that he expected... beatings. Harshness. Cruelty. Anything but kindness. She sighed softly and turned her gaze back to his back, though she didn't see it as she was too far into her own thoughts at the moment. She did still feel the warmth of his back beneath her hand, and it kept her firmly grounded in reality. Her near-gold eyes were distant, considering... her face still tired. She felt her age and knew she probably looked it... and then some.

"I don't see any reason why I shouldn't. I can't see you as a slave... at all," she confessed softly, slowly renewing her attentions to his back. It was honesty, though she did not know how much of it he would be able to... fully comprehend. His eyes belied something a little deeper than the usual simplicity that he showed, though, so she decided to elaborate as best she could. "I know what it's like to be hurt badly and not cared for. To be alone. I could've been... just like you, very easily. And I just... can't think of other people as slaves. I just can't. I don't know how to think of you." Her admission was accompanied by a tired smile, and she very gently rubbed the salve into one of the more prominent welts. Shards, but that one looked awful. "But... you're not my slave, and I'm not your master... or whatever you call them. If you want to leave... go take up a craft, take a lover or a spouse... you're always free to do so. I hope you know that. I'd never make you leave, though." Not when he seemed that vulnerable... and needy. That expression on his face made her hopeful that he was not completely beyond some recovery, though. He could regain some independence and enjoyment of life. She had no doubts that he would always grieve for his dragon, but... perhaps some normalcy would help him... somehow. "I'm getting fond of your company. And Cherry's."

[reqqy]

He listened silently to the entirety of her answer, his expression inscrutable if not - exactly - neutral. His eyes never left hers. They searched her, evaluating every word in the context of her eyes, her tone, her expressions, even as his own displayed a certain sort of pensive intensity. Faolan turned his head from her, then, staring at the wall, his jaw tight with something unspoken.

Cherry stirred in her sleep, somehow uncomfortable. He glanced down at her. His jaw slackened, eyes retreating, throwing up that blank, glassy layer, and the green began to still. Whatever thoughts or emotions had passed through him were now buried or dismissed, though it was hard to tell which. Faolan didn't stiffen beneath her hands. Nor did he say anything for the longest time, seeming to have accepted her words and - nothing more.

It was, quite simply, impossible. S'rei - and yes, he was thinking of him not in terms of the angry, towering man but as the Wingleader, as the former Weyrleader - could not see him as a slave. Thus he couldn't see him at all. Even though he knew he wasn't in the north anymore, he couldn't - quite - bring himself to reemerge from what had been his only defense. Besides. To do so would mean to accept...everything. As long as he was someone else, as long as he drew up the boy, the naive, the submissive portions of himself that he'd always protected and used them, instead, to protect the rest - as long as he did these things he would never have to face the fact (at least full-on) that he wasn't...That Wrenth wasn't...

Faolan's eyes closed. It didn't stop the tear, which he didn't reach up to remove because that would draw attention to it. No, Aliscia hadn't ordered him around, but she wasn't the first to conceal commands behind requests. For many other things, she was the first, though. Did he want to believe her? It didn't matter. He couldn't. Everything inside him balked at the thought of shedding everything just because someone uttered a few pretty words. She was likely just crueler than the rest, trying to catch him out. Faolan didn't...trust. Never had. Now, though, he...couldn't.

"I am a slave," he stated, and his voice was inflectionless. Chill. "It's my only purpose now. All I'm worth. You think I'd be grateful if you take that away, too?" Now his words were becoming more pointed, anger and bitterness leaking into them. "And I'm not even worth anything as a slave, or I wouldn't have been beaten so often, or sent south."

The grief was being buried beneath his anger, so he held onto it, his focus shifting. He'd make her reveal her true self. That was it. She was lying, wasn't she? Oh, she must be, if she'd agreed to take him in the first place. It couldn't bother her too much, now could it? "Of course you like us here. Our only purpose is to serve you and make your life easier. To make you comfortable. My only reason for existing right now is you. Yes, you're the one keeping me here, separate from my...alive. You and Cherry. I don't like being here."

Shardit, now it sounded like whining. He shut up before it could go any further. That didn't come out quite as he'd wanted it to.

[kysseh]

Aliscia swore that Faolan was attempting to read her thoughts in the way he looked at her. Truthfully, that might have been easier. He could have seen for himself, then, how honestly confused she was by the whole situation. It was a dilemma. She did not want him to be upset and misunderstand her... but she did not want him to continue under the assumption that he was her slave. He wasn't, and she wished there was a better way to make him understand that. Truthfully, she had thought he would just... stay with her a few sevendays until he regained some mental peace. Then he would head off to a hold, make a normal life for himself, take up a craft... she had not expected him to remain with her.

Thinking back on the conversation in the infirmary, she realized that she should have seen the signs that he though himself still servile. She had been so drugged, though, and she cursed herself many times over for neglecting to realize that oh-so-important little detail. She should have made it clear from the start that Faolan was not going to be her slave or possession by any stretch of the imagination. Her gaze turned curious, and slightly cautionary, when Faolan turned his gaze away from her. Cherry was restless, and that usually signalled Faolan in distress as well. Shardit... she hoped he had not taken anything of what she said out of context. Then again, she had gone a little overboard with the explaining.

His sudden speech had Aliscia startled, and her hand paused in its attention to his back, fingers pausing their gentle massage. What was.... why was he using that tone with her?! She just stared for a moment, absorbing all the bitterness and anger that fairly radiated from his voice as he scorned her and her attentions. Shame filled her. She was being selfish again... not being able to see it from his perspective. His last words made tears sting in her eyes, and she wished she could offer him that option, that release from suffering. She should have offered it a long time ago, but she had.... thought him broken, not wanting that. Had she not been so tired, she might have been more angry than genuinely upset.

But, upset soon turned to resigned, and she just stayed quietly motionless, letting silence reign for a few moments. How did she tell him what was going through her tired, chaos-stricken mind? She sighed and just slid her hand up his back to rest between his shoulder blades. "Faolan... I thought I could make you understand that... regardless of how you see yourself, you aren't a slave. Not to me. If you don't... want to be here, I'll help you with whatever it is you want. If you want to-" She couldn't say it. She just couldn't. "... leave Pern permanently, then tell me so. If you want to leave the weyr... join a craft... if that's what you want, I'll do my best to help you, all right? I never thought you'd stay here, with me, very long. I just thought you'd... get yourself together, find a direction, and just go that way."

She sighed softly and bowed her head, knowing there was no way that she could reassure him that she would do what it was that he wanted. "I'm grateful for your help, Faolan, and that's... how I saw it. You got a home, a place to stay for a time while you got your feet back beneath you. And... I got a little help, since I was injured. I still see it that way. Where it goes from here.... that's up to you. I'd love for you to stay.... though I wouldn't let you sleep on that couch anymore. I'd get a bed moved up here for you. But... if you want something else, please tell me. Just... tell me." Her shoulders slumped, and she just cursed her lack of people skills. She almost wanted to show him the state of her own back, to let him see that she would hardly take advantage of someone suffering, having been through what she had. But... he did not seem receptive to the idea at the moment. "I'm sorry." It seemed ridiculous, to tack that onto the end of all of that incoherent rambling, but her instincts told her to add it. She didn't know why. It just... seemed to be the right thing right then.

[reqqy]

She'd stopped working on his back. He's struck a nerve, then. The young man was strangely self-satisfied at proving himself right after all, that these people weren't - not a single one of them - trustworthy. He wondered if she'd strike him or throw him out - or just yell. Of course Aliscia didn't really see him as a person. How could she? He would always be nothing more than half a man to everyone else, even if he weren't a slave - and, truly, that's how he genuinely felt. Like half a man. Less. Faolan thrust the line of thought aside rather violently.

Her words shocked him, though. His eyes snapped to her, wide and guileless, but not in the fashion of one half there as they so commonly were. What - what was she saying? A tremble ran through his limbs. Why was she being like this? Why wasn't she angry? What - how could she offer these - things?

The man's arms curled protectively around Cherry, and this time, when he opened his mouth, the words just tumbled out as they came to mind, almost as if he couldn't...contain them anymore. "I don't know what I want. No, I want - I wish - if I'd just said no when he asked, but we were bored and Wrenth wanted something to do." His throat closed up on him for a moment. The tears had overflowed, then, but he didn't sob or otherwise make any noise normally associated with crying. He was simply silently weeping, perhaps...oblivious to the fact that he was weeping at all.

"It went all wrong," he whispered. "They weren't supposed to be there, and we were trapped in the middle. Then..." No, he couldn't say it. "Cherry. I don't want...to live...without him, but Cherry. I couldn't do that to her. And I couldn't let them win. Just couldn't." His eyes searched out Aliscia's, but he couldn't make out her face with the tears blurring his eyes, and, in the end, he turned his head away. Faolan was too broken to care if she saw him crying. "Why do you have to be nice? It was easy not to think about that when they were mean."

Such plaintive, utter sorrow. It would almost have sounded petulant, out of context.

"I shouldn't be treated nicely," he murmured, half to himself. "It shouldn't be anything but retribution for allowing them..." Faolan shook his head, his body curling in on itself. "I shouldn't be happy when he's..." And there it was. The thought of being happy at all without Wrenth wounded the man. He'd rather be miserable and constantly mistreated, because anything else seemed like betraying the blue's memory. His dragon was his happiness. He was everything that Faolan wasn't, and everything that the bluerider ever truly needed. It had been his greatest fear for turns, and now the fear had become staggeringly real.

Thus he wept, because a significant portion of him wanted to stay with Aliscia, who - it seemed - truly did care about him. Who didn't raise her voice or have him whipped. He didn't know what he wanted, but he was tearing apart on the inside, and it was pure agony. Why did he have to be so stubborn? Half of the others hadn't survived the night, and half of the remaining had died within a tenday. Yet he'd hung on for some perverse reason or another. Cherry crooned, pressed up tightly against him. It was remarkable that she wasn't extremely upset. Or perhaps not. Perhaps this was what she sensed in him...all the time.

[kysseh]

The look in his eyes was one of genuine surprise, it seemed, and Aliscia could only guess that Faolan was truly stunned by her offer. He shouldn't have been. Shardit, when was the last time anyone had cared about him, barring his dragon?! Obviously, it had been far too long, or he would have seen her offer as the genuine, caring one it was right from the start. Instead, he almost seemed to expect that she would turn nasty at him... or at least admit that she was lying and planned to enslave him for the rest of his natural life. Either way, he was mistaken. Aliscia did not lie about things like this, especially not when so emotionally distraught herself over it.

When he curled his arms around Cherry, she had a faint suspicion that something was coming that was entirely unprecedented, and then he began to speak. Her heart broke for him, and she was startled to hear a deep croon emanating from Tanith. The green's head was turned to look into the weyr, and one whirling blue-green eye was fixed on her rider and the weeping man lying beside her. Just the thought that Tanith cared was enough to make Aliscia's eyes spill over too, and the green responded by solidly pushing her mental presence up against the woman's, reassuring her wordlessly that the snarky bitch of a green was, indeed, still with her.

As always.

She tried to meet his gaze, but her tears and rapid blinking made it hard to see. She saw his overflow of emotions clearly enough that she reached out with salve-slicked fingers and gently tried to wipe the tears from his face. He turned away, and she sealed and set aside the little jar with shaking fingers, reaching out to stroke him in a feeble attempt at comfort. Words could not describe the sympathy she felt. She was selfishly grateful for not having lost her Tanith, by some stroke of luck or fortune, but... oh, to lose his Wrenth like that.... How to tell him that he could have done nothing to prevent it all? He could not have known... could not have changed anything.

In the end, she settled for lying awkwardly on her side beside him, just lightly stroking the fawn-colored hair. Her tears just continued to trickle at the thought of the heartbreak he had to be feeling, and she wished she had two arms to embrace him properly. Even as he curled into himself, she huddled closer as best she could manage, just gently touching him to reassure her that she was there... and that she cared, just as the oddly-calm Cherry did. She took a moment of silence, still attempting to comfort him, to sort out what he had said. They must have been captured by Fort somehow. She shuddered lightly at the thought, only because she knew that Fort tended to execute the dragons right before their riders' eyes before the riders were then enslaved. And he had survived, somehow... for Cherry, he said. If she only knew how to help him.....

"I'm nice because I can't think of being mean to you. You don't deserve it. There was nothing you could have done," she whispered softly, her voice sounding thick around her own tears. Her chest tightened at the thought of having to watch her Tanith die, and she curled closer to Faolan, hearing another croon echo from the other part of the weyr. I am here, Mine. And we are together, with the Quiet One and the FreakThing. We will always be together. Tanith reassured her with just enough snark in her voice that Aliscia was almost tempted to laugh at her dragon's pluck. Almost. But the thought of Faolan being all alone overrode that.

"I don't... I don't know what to tell you, Faolan. I honestly don't." Her words were very quiet, but spoken near to his ear as they were, it was likely he heard them quite clearly. She just... could not bring herself to be louder, and she pressed closer to him, desperate to comfort both of their wounded souls. "I just wish I could do something for you. Just... don't ask me to be mean. I can't do that," she admitted, and she maneuvered her head around to rest it lightly on his shoulder. Her side twinged at the site of her injured ribs, but she ignored it. Uncomfortable as the position was, it was soothing to be so close to another human being. Not only that.... but it was reassuring to find a kindred mourning spirit. She wanted to desperately make it better and had no idea how.

[reqqy]

It was so overwhelming now, after being thrust aside, first by terrible bitterness, then pushed down beneath the only defense he could find against the people determined to make his life as overwhelmingly miserable as possible. Had he ever truly grieved? No. For months, he hadn't grieved for the part of Faolan that was now permanently, irrevocably missing. He could hear the dragon's voice again, ignoring the hands on him to listen. Wrenth. Always teasing him, always pushing him to reach out and find...someone. Anyone. Had he known? Had he known that one day...? Had he pushed so that Faolan wouldn't be alone? Thinking questions like that were death. No. Wrenth couldn't have known. He was just being Wrenth.

Even in the end. Even then, the blue reached out to try to comfort His. The tears came harder. What sort of idiot faced his own death and ignored all that to comfort someone else?! Faolan didn't care what anyone said. He could have done something other than just stand there stupidly, other than struggle feebly against them, other than - what he had done. Some had fought, hadn't they? He couldn't remember. It wasn't important. If they had, they'd died, but...he wondered if they knew that? Were they the cowards? That didn't matter. None of it did. In the end, it wasn't Cherry. It was, yes, but...wasn't. Wrenth never gave up, would never approve. All he had left was the memory, the ghost pain that ate at him, and if he couldn't at least be true to that...

Her words, closer now. He twitched, having not realized that she was there, but now her warmth intruded upon him. Faolan wanted to turn away, to flee. He wanted to stay. Indecision left him immobile as she finished what she said. The man couldn't respond for a long moment. He didn't deserve it? Oh, but yes. There were plenty of things they could have...if only he'd thought of them. The last of his weyrling training had taken place at Fort. They might have been willing to take Wrenth and Faolan into the fold once more, if only he'd thought to try that. And in the battle, when Salenth disappeared, they should have Betweened. Yes, it happened quickly, and there was confusion, but he was trained to deal with that sort of thing if necessary.

No excuse.

Faolan shook his head. It had to be his fault. If not, who could he blame? Fort, yes, but that was an abstraction. You couldn't take vengeance out on an abstraction. It didn't matter, though. What mattered was the fact that she refused to treat him as he wanted her to. It was harder this way! So much harder. Faranth. What was life without Wrenth? Nothing at all, but an empty hole of pain and hurt and anguish. Without other pain and other misery to concentrate on, there was only this.

Strangely, she seemed to understand, and...and...just having her against him, warm and real and not doing anything but trying to comfort, he couldn't bring himself to make her miserable, too. She'd been nothing but kind to him. Faolan saw the tears on her face, and though he'd hardly noticed when she'd smeared some of the salve on his own to get rid of some of the tears, he noticed her weeping. The dragonless responded the only way he knew how. It pained him to see anyone else hurt. Had it always been that way? He suspected so, on some level, or why else would he be so reclusive?

You hardened your heart because it was soft. No other reason.

He turned to his side, staring at her for a moment, before his arms moved, enfolding the small woman and drawing her into him, against his stomach. He'd turned her back to him in doing so, and his chin came to rest at the top of her head. For the longest time, he simply held her, not knowing what to say, or what to feel. Wrenth's loss shredded him. But he couldn't ask her to tear herself apart just so he wouldn't feel so...lost. Could he? "I'm sorry," he murmured, not even realizing that, in doing as he'd done, the servile role was being discarded. He did not comfort her as he might a pet or a child. He didn't truly know how to comfort her at all.

He just...held her. "I'm sorry."

[kysseh]

She could not seem to halt his tears, and Aliscia felt him twitch as she attempted to soothe his grief, as well as her own. She grieved for friends lost, for her two siblings.... two weyrmates and a child... and for his beloved Wrenth, who should not have been taken from him. It was a cruel time they lived in, and Aliscia faintly remembered the early days of her weyrling training, before the wars. Shards, but she felt old now. The war had gone on for most of Tanith's life. Fighting had been all she and her green had ever done together, once they graduated from training. Had it been that long? She closed her eyes briefly, tears still trickling from beneath her lids. Oh, it had been. So very, very long.... and for he and Wrenth to not even get the short time that she and Tanith had had together, though it was nearly half her own life thus far...

She felt movement but opened her eyes too late to see it. His silence bothered her, though, and she had a feeling he was rejecting her statements that he was not to blame for the tragedy. He wasn't. Could he really blame himself for a war between weyrs? For the ruthlessness with which the north treated the dragons and their bondeds? Hardly. Aliscia probably carried a lot more guilt on her soul than he did. She had fought in the wars. She had fought and killed and helped the pointless fighting go on for... close to twelve Turns. It was such a long time in many ways but... still not a long time in view of the good Turns she could have ahead with Tanith and her unborn child. Could... if they survived. If Benden and Fort could be staved off. It was such an uncertain future.

She was surprised to notice that he was looking at her, or more specifically, at her face. She wanted to reassure him that she was just distressed on his behalf--mostly--but before a word could come from her mouth, he was encircling her with his arms and drawing her to him, her back pressed against his stomach. The comforting warmth of being held brought another fresh wave of tears, and she loosely curled her fingers around one of his arms, hugging his arms around her midsection. Her immobilized arm was squished and a bit uncomfortable, but she hardly thought it needed more care. It would be fine. She just... needed this. It had been Turns since she had been properly held, and even if he was whispering needless apologies to her, she appreciated his closeness.

After a brief moment, she was done with her tears, and she just sniffed a bit and then squirmed tiredly back against him. She needed sleep.... but, Faolan was more important than sleep for the moment. "You have nothing to be sorry for," she whispered softly to him. Ahh, but it was comforting to have large, warm male body pressed up against her. It relaxed her... made her feel almost safe. Letting her back be turned to someone was a sign of trust, and she trusted Faolan with her life. Hers and the child's... and her Tanith's. "I'm just... upset at everything that's been stolen from you... and from me." She closed her eyes as a brief image of her older sister flashed through her head. Ellia. Shards, but she had not seen the girl since she and her Chinith had disappeared between a Turn into their weyrling training. The dragons had not keened a death knell, but... well, the north did not often grieve anymore. She just remembered staring up into the sky, patiently waiting for the other green and her rider to pop back into view. Instead... they stayed gone. Permanently. Dead, most likely, but Aliscia had kept up the hope for finding her sister alive some day, when she was much younger. The Turns had made her cynical, though. Her best friend and confidante had been gone long enough. She had recovered from the loss.

Her thumb stroked lightly against his arm, and she was reluctant to let go to let him move away. Couldn't they just... stay here awhile? "I meant what I said before too..." she added softly, her chest lightly rising and falling with her breathing. "If you want to go somewhere... or if you want to start a craft or... anything you want, Faolan.... all you ever have to do is ask, and I'll do my best." She wanted him to be happy. Perhaps he would like to start crafting? It would keep him busy and bring him some steady income for spending on himself. Shards, but she really did need to get him a proper bed. She was afraid the old attitude would come back, and that thought pained her. "Anything you ever want, I'll do my best to get for you."

[reqqy]

The first thing that he noticed was her acceptance of him. It hadn't occurred to Faolan that such might be a problem until the relief hit him, a strange emotion to mix with all the others surging through him right now. She gripped his arm, yes, but not to try to pull it away. More as if she wanted him to continue holding her, or to hold her tighter. The second thing Faolan noticed, though, was that she was trembling pretty strongly still. Crying? Even now? Forgotten were the man's own tears, though they still ran down his face and neck. Wrenth's loss was still near and visceral, but he used Aliscia's distress to distract from it just that little bit, and felt himself calming a tad.

The man adjusted to her squirming, noting that his own arm would likely fall asleep beneath her after a time - light as she was. But he didn't want to let go, and she didn't seem to want him to, either. He released her long enough to settle to his back, finding it not so very uncomfortable on an actual bed, and drew her over with the arm still beneath her until she could lie pressed against his side, and slightly on top of his chest. His legs dangled over the edge of the bed, but he didn't truly mind that so much.

Using the back of his free hand to try to get rid of all evidence of weeping, or at least attempt it, the dragonless listened to her words in silence for a moment. He hadn't meant to bring any of this to her, certainly not to make her cry. Faolan hated it when women cried. It always made him feel...even more helpless than he did now. And it was especially bad when he made the woman cry himself, because then he felt like a callous monster. He'd reminded her of something painful, he realized instantly, feeling even worse, but grateful for the distraction from the reality that he was no longer...eh. Looking down at her as best he could, Faolan brushed the back of his hand across her cheek lightly, not knowing what to say, but the regret and sympathy in his eyes were clear enough - even if they were rather reddened at this point.

Strange, this feeling. He knew it. Eyes closed, and memory made his jaw work. Yes. He knew it. She'd said pretty things to him, too, with far less reason to lie, and yet...One day, simply gone. Nothing at all left in the weyr, either. Everyone left him. Fiona. Relliga. Wrenth. He shuddered at the sudden chill. When he'd awoken, he'd been worried that Aliscia had left him, too. The fear was...always there...wasn't it? The light stroking of her thumb along his arm was out of place, and yet perfectly familiar. He didn't know what to think. Not even when she began speaking again, of crafts and beds and..."All I know is fishing, and a bit of weaving, though that had to do with nets and nothing more - decorative." Fishing, yes. Fishing and dragonriding. His heart ached. No, he didn't want to fish - that was when he still had Fiona to ease his hurts.

She was confusing him, talking about leaving. Why? Didn't she...but she hadn't pulled away. Aliscia was still stroking him. It made no sense that she would want him to go, right? "I want...I want just to lie here. Is that okay?" He knew it wasn't exactly what she was asking, but he had no answer for her. Faolan was still trying to wrap his mind around the concept that this woman was not mistress to him. No, he'd always think that, and always treat her that way, if only because she deserved to be looked after. No one else was here to do it. No one else. Though she was pregnant, Aliscia was alone. He understood alone.

Wrenth...

Faolan felt the tears gathering again, and buried his face in her neck, just for the comfort of the feeling of her pulse against his cheek. "Can I stay with you?" the man asked plaintively, wanting to hold on to her, as she was the only nice person in his life. "I know you said you wouldn't make me go, but you keep...talking about it." A note of distress in his voice. Oh, he knew he'd given her plenty of mixed signals, but he could hardly understand the maelstrom of emotions, himself, much less rein them in and present her with something that wasn't confusing.

"I want to stay with you," he added, unnecessarily.

[kysseh]

Aliscia was grateful for Faolan's patience with her squirming. She did not mean to be difficult, but... with her arm, her ribs, and her aching back, it was rather difficult to settle in one position. He released her and began to move, eliciting a soft cry of surprise and protest. Then she realized he was settling onto his back and taking her with him, and she managed to squirm up to his side and rest her immobilized arm on his torso. He did not seem to mind the odd positioning or the pressure on his back, and she made no move to bring it up if he was comfortable this way. He was very warm and very there, and that soothed her enough that she unabashedly pressed against his side, not bothering to try to hold back the tears that still trickled, knowing that his face matched her own.

Then he began to wipe her tears away, and she leaned her face into that touch, craved it. It was so comforting on multiple levels, and as the back of his hand stroked her cheek, she similarly rubbed up against that appendage, trying to soothe them both. Her eyes moved to his face, and she could see, even through the clear signs of tears, that he was trying to comfort her. He wanted to... even if he had no words. Aliscia appreciated it and offered him a faint, shaky smile to let him know that she really was grateful for the effort. She had no words for him either, and that troubled her. She did not want it to be that he felt the need to constantly be catering to her. The way she rested, her good arm was pinned, and she was desperate for a way to reassure him that she spoke out of true concern.

His eyes closed, and she panicked for about half a second, thinking he was offended or distressed. He shuddered, and she pressed her cheek to his chest and made a quiet, soothing noise, lips pressing to the bared skin in a shocking attempt to soothe him. She only realized what she was doing when he began to speak, and she just turned her head to rest against him to cover, unsure what to do. She was tired, and it was confusing enough just being near him in this sort of situation. His talk of crafts made her smile faintly. Oh, that topic. That topic could be left for now. They both had more important things on their minds.

"I think lying here... is a great idea," Aliscia murmured softly, huddling closer to his warmth. Her feet were dangling off the side of the bed, but she cared little. He was so very comfortable to be near, and he was offering no protests to their current position. She wanted to kiss him again, wanted to show him some affection. She was almost afraid of what his response would be, though, and she just tipped her face up to look at him. His tears suddenly came again, and she shushed him lightly as he buried his face against her neck. Oh... how selfish she'd been! He needed even more comfort than she did, and still, all her tired mind could process was her own upset.

"I want you to stay. And if you want to stay... please. I want you here," she promised him. Sometime, later, when they were not so emotional, she would explain it. "I'm glad you want to stay with me... it's all right. I won't ever send you away." Her words trailed off into quiet tears, and she had to pause for a few moments to get herself under control, and her good hand was lifted to stroke his hair, soothing both of them in their respective grief. "It's all right. Please stay." I'll take care of you... she added silently, tired. Shards, but she was so exhausted, and she just angled her head to rest it against his. "I'm sorry... I... Faolan, I'm just so tired. I can barely... barely think anymore."

[reqqy]

He had paused, uncertain at her cry, but when she snuggled up to him again Faolan relaxed. The dragonless had been afraid, for a moment, that he'd gone too far. That would have been...distressing. He'd only wanted to make it more comfortable for her, after all. Nothing more. Cherry, upset at having her blanket of curls moving away from her, moved against his neck to coil herself in his hair again, crooning quietly to both of these two-legged's. Silly things. All emotional, when they should just be enjoying the warmth and sleeping. Two-legged's didn't make much sense, but she tried to make them feel better anyway, if only because that meant her hair-toy wouldn't be moving around so much. Soft, soft. Cherry kicked her legs a little, finding a more comfortable position that truly would only seem comfortable to one such as the green flit. It looked decidedly...contortionist.

The smile Aliscia offered him was very sad, making the former bluerider somewhat distressed, though he tried not to show it. She was trying. It just...was clear that he wasn't able to make the hurt go away, and he wanted to. Pain wasn't...fun. It seemed to have always existed, the pain, though he knew it hadn't. Knew, rationally, when it started. Pain was like that, though. It had no past, no future. Merely the present. It was now and visceral. And, at this moment, all you could think was that it must have always been there, because it seemed you'd been in pain forever - and all you could imagine for the future was more hurt, more pain. That's all you knew, and all you could expect. He wanted to take it away, for that reason. Faolan hated seeing people in that endless, bottomless chasm where despair and anguish are the rules of the day. He especially didn't want to see the moment pain was locked away in stone and someone became the walking dead. Too many times had he seen that expression, seen the cadavers going about their day and never registering...anything...else.

Her timing was unfortunate. Thinking of the woman who had laughed at him after their first time together - after his first time - Faolan twitched as her lips brushed his chest, pale blues flaring open. Not Relliga. But the fear was strong and thunderous, causing his heart to quicken. Irrationally, he was certain that meant Aliscia would...disappear. Part of him wondered if she were even real, for he'd seen some of the others lose their sanity completely, and the thought of anyone being this kind to him was hard to wrap his mind around. It was just because he was holding her, the man finally decided. Aliscia was tired, and he was holding her. She probably hadn't even thought. She certainly was quick to leave off and lie still against him, wasn't she? Yes. A mistake. No more. His heartrate began to settle.

He was glad that she didn't want to move, though. Grateful. Faolan liked the sense of companionship, even if it was a bittersweet one. Her warmth and presence was comforting. Yes, he'd fully intended to comfort her, but it helped him as well, and the thought of her removing herself from him was...not what he desired. Why he was crying again he wasn't certain, and a brief, irrational concern flashed in his mind. Suppose she didn't like him getting her neck all wet like that? But she was telling him she wanted him. Wanted him to stay, and that only brought on more tears. He nuzzled her lightly, his arm tightening around her good arm because he couldn't speak. His throat was all stopped up. Too emotional. It seemed foreign to him that, once, he would have despised himself - or anyone else - for such a display. Many things had...changed.

"Never?" he whispered, against her neck, his voice raw. "You'll never send me away or just...leave...?" The last two words sounded strangled, clearly another emotional wound. But then her fingers were in his hair, Cherry chittering softly because her bed was being moved around again. Faolan's free hand moved to comfort the green, who subsided quickly. He pressed against her, almost as if afraid Aliscia would vanish if he didn't hold on. Didn't feel her against him. He stopped nuzzling when the woman rested her head against him. "You can sleep," he murmured. "Then I'll know...when you wake up...and we can both sleep." Clingy a little? Yes. But he still kept thinking she would vanish. There was no way he wouldn't notice her pulling away from his arms, though.

[kysseh]

The affectionate kiss had been a bit of a slip, but... well, she didn't regret it. The twitch he made and the sudden elevation in his heartrate--which she could feel, pressed up against him like this--made her think he was a little jumpy about that sort of affection. Very well. There would be no more kissing, then, and she tiredly made a note of that fact. She was naturally affectionate... albeit only with those she was trusted and close to, now. Turns upon Turns at Benden had closed her off from others as a method of self-preservation. It was not that she hated people. She was just... wary of them.... and quite uneasy about trusting them too. She missed being young and carefree. The holds in the north had been... stifling, in their own way, but... not like Benden. No, not like the weyr.

The affectionate way in which he nuzzled at her made her remember B'rom. B'rom.... so much bigger than she but so infinitely gentle. He had loved to sit and cuddle her in his lap, nuzzling at her face and neck and... about anything else he could reach. She had enjoyed those quiet moments too. It had been just the two of them and Marth and Tanith, and the foursome would often sleep together on the dragon couch, all curled together. It was so oddly comforting to think of it. It twisted her heart, but it made her feel less... unloved. She knew that had B'rom survived, they would have left for the peaceful Selenitas much sooner, with the infant in tow. But... he had died, and she was grateful that Faolan's grip on her was tight. It kept her distracted from such grief, for at least the moment.

His whispers had her curling her fingers around the back of his neck, and she whispered an apology to Cherry, who was disturbed yet again by the greenrider's attempts to comfort her roommate. "Never. Never, Faolan. I want you to stay with me. And I'm not leaving either. I... I really like having you here," she whispered to him, letting him stay close to her. Her good arm clutched him near, a feeling of gratitude for his renewed sense of life flooding through her. He grieved... and oh, she could only imagine! But, he had to grieve in order to live, and she was happy to see him living. The rest could be worked on. She planned to do her best to keep him happily occupied with a craft or something... some way to keep him content with life. Something... anything.

When he stopped nuzzling, she was grateful, for she was starting to improperly interpret it. She wanted rest... and that sort of sleeping all at once. Shards, but it had been awhile. The fingers at the back of his neck massaged lightly, soothing them both. "I think I will... but... stay with me, please. Please stay." When did her little murmurs become pleading like that? She hated being needy, but she wanted him to stay close. She tempered her begging with a light nuzzle to his hair, unable to fight the drooping of her eyelids. "Thank you..." It seemed pitiful, but... that simple gratitude was all she could offer him now. She curled up closer to him and drifted into peaceful oblivion, liking it when the darkness took her as she was, warmly held and... cared for.