- Thren was very aware of his dragon's conflicting emotions with regard to High Reaches and his children, but his own will had always been so dominant in their relationship that he simply hadn't considered a day might come when Rixth's would push with enough force to challenge it. In his mind, the excitement of the past few months would fade as the hatchlings found theirs, and with it would go any paternal feelings the bronze had cultivated. Their lives would be normal again. Thren was counting on it.
It was this ironclad certainty that made what actually happened all the more unsettling. The wave of crippling agony that saturated their mental link in the wake of the tiny green's disappearance sank deep, muddying Thren's amusement over the weyr's grandiose reaction to that mouthy Western bronzerider. He had never known such pain, such base, inescapable devastation, and it was a struggle not to join the dragons on the sands in their wailing misery. There would be no normal after this, not for a long time.
Once his initial shock had passed, Thren hurried to Rixth's side, positioning himself in a spot that drew the dragon's grey-eyed attention away from gold and blue.
I need to go. We need to. Please.
They didn't speak for some time, settling on their borrowed ledge in tense but companionable silence. Their thoughts mingled as always, though at the moment, Rixth's miasma of grief, discomfort, and confusion still overwhelmed. He searched for an anchor where he might tie his emotions, eventually realizing that despite their differences and disagreements of late, the only mind that could ever calm his was Thren's.
I wish I could say I regretted coming here. His speech might not have been able to suffer the effects of a ragged throat, but Rixth's voice was restrained and tired, his cultivated charisma abandoned. It would be so much easier not to care.
I wouldn't want to be around you if you didn't. Thren moved closer, circling his arms around the bronze's neck and dragging him lower until Rixth was properly reclining. I know I've made a huge stink about staying here for so long, but... I want to say I'm sorry. I honestly didn't realize how much this all meant to you until...
Aureliath.
Yes. She was beautiful.
A short, broken cry squeezed past Rixth's throat, and after an abrupt inhale, a lower whine followed, taking with it the despair he hadn't felt entitled to free in front of everybody else.
We can leave tomorrow, if you'd like.
Rixth's voice nudged Thren out of his unintentional half-nap, and it took him a second or two to remember where they were. His fingers resumed the gentle eye ridge massage that must have paused when he nodded off, and the bronze hummed his gratitude.
After that rider's outburst, we won't be welcome for long anyway. Before Thren could form a reply, Rixth added, Krahsujunth has been a wonderful father so far. I won't make things more uncomfortable for him than I already have.
Thren longed to interject—he always did—but he held his tongue for a change. This was the heart of the matter, the awkward mix of pride and shame that Rixth felt whenever he dwelled on the agreement he had made. His conscience needed mending too, even if this was just the start.
If he couldn't face the truth of his situation, he should have tore you out of the sky before you could catch his queen. Okay, so that 'not interjecting' thing hadn't lasted long. It was worth it to hear the fragile amusement in Rixth's tone when he spoke again.
He was very considerate of my face during the flight. I'm sure that means he loves me deep down.
As he should have been. It's a wonderful face. Thren slid his palms down to cup Rixth's cheeks. We're not leaving yet, right? Not before we show our wonderful faces at the feast?
I did say we would leave tomorrow, didn't I? We're here now and I'm not going to miss the opportunity to see them all one last time.
We'll be back before you know it.
Hm. Maybe.
Definitely. You know, no matter what title those hatchlings give you, they wouldn't be who they are had you not been here.
A whole new brood of dragons trained to fight Thread. All because I knew where to stick my tail. Take that, Pellereth.
There was a brief stretch of silence. "Who's Pellereth?"