Seeking Solace {Reky}

R'len stirred, his body clock calmly easing him out of his deep sleep. The first few caws of wherries were beginning to rise with the sun, even though any normal creature would still be sleeping. Busy as he was, though, R'len was hardly a normal creature in the Turn before Thread. Morning, though, was one calm part of his day. He was free to watch the sunrise and sit with Kaezeth. It was a little taste of relaxation. As his eyes slowly opened and his fuzzy mind adjusted to wakefulness, he was looking forward to such relaxation. Quickly, though, it was stifled.

Kaezeth lifted his head. He heard Waroth's voice in his mind, but for once, it was not yelling at him. Needless to say, he felt very surprised, but he heard the tone in her voice. The colour of worry was dropped into the swirl of his eyes. He is awake, the iron told the red, and then he turned to His. Waroth and Hers come.

R'len sat up. Waroth and Nimara? At this hour of the morning? He was immensely confused. Waroth sounded worried, Kaezeth added, and that only made it worse. The ironrider dragged himself out of bed and pulled on a shirt to go with his loose pants. Possible situations were pouring into his head. What was going on? But he forced himself to ignore any guesses. He'd find out when Nimara arrived. Instead, the twist of worry and confusion grew in his gut. It felt like he had swallowed something whole.

Waroth landed, and Kaezeth gave a polite bow of his head in turn. R'len saw Nimara silhouetted against the slowly lightening sky; saw her dripping wet. "Oh, shells," he breathed, and grabbed furs up in his arms before running out to meet her. He pulled the furs around her and drew her in, rubbing her shoulders to dry her off and warm her up. He searched out her eyes with his.

"Shards, Nimara, what happened? Kaezeth told me Waroth was worried." All the while, his dark, worried, creased eyes were on her. He genuinely wanted to know. He genuinely wanted to help.

Waroth's anger was infectious. Kaezeth lapped up the words she shared with him. Perhaps, normally, the words would not have riled him so, but it was the conviction with which Waroth said them that had him convinced. Dragon fighting dragon was a sickening thought, and anyone attacking Nimara was way out of line. R'len cared for Nim, so Kaezeth did, too, if only for his rider's sake. Seeing Nimara upset like this was doing a number on the ironrider already. Kaezeth just wanted everything to get better again.

R'len was only hearing half of a conversation. Immediately, when Nimara mentioned a pinkrider, his mind jumped to the pinkrider that had made advances towards him. It was just an assumption, and a worrying one at that, but he didn't want to jump to any more conclusions. It didn't really matter who the pinkrider was and he didn't want to pry. He wasn't here to investigate - he was just here to comfort Nimara. Whatever Waroth was saying to Nimara and Kaezeth had power, which he could tell from the woman's and the iron's reactions, but again, he wasn't here to be nosy. He just didn't care. He only cared that Nimara was upset and that needed to be fixed.

He hushed her. Nimara had fallen quiet and came closer to him, resting her head on his chest. He didn't hesitate. Right away, he got his thick arms around her little body and held her close. His hands rubbed her back gently through the furs. The smell of her wet hair came to him, and he figured he was doing the right thing, being her sanctuary.

"Well," he said quietly, "It's over now, hey? And you're still alright. No one's hurt." Not physically, he thought. He gave Nimara a warm squeeze. "You're still alright."

Even though he had known it all along, hearing Nimara admit that she was fine made R'len feel considerably better. He kept his arms around her, stroking her shoulder comfortingly while she snuggled up against him. He liked her there. He liked being some semblance of stability and safety for her. Even with all the stress of being a wingleader, and the stress of seeing Nimara so upset, he currently felt calm. Nimara was alright - she had said it herself - so he was alright, too.

Kaezeth watched his rider carefully, fully aware of all his feelings, but also infected by Waroth's irritation. When R'len relaxed, however, the iron allowed a slight bit of relief to wash over him, but Waroth's disapproval still had him restless. A pink should not challenge a queen, he agreed, snout wrinkling in a stifled snarl. Especially when her rider was already in the wrong. He would not have stood for such insolence. If it was Syrryth, as His suspected, she would have received due consequences for stepping out of line against a king. He held his head a little higher, swelling with the responsibility of his rank.

R'len noticed his dragon's change in posture, but ignored it. He was reluctant to let Nimara go, but he loosened his grip regardless. His arms felt useless by his sides; he put them in his pockets instead. Nimara's small voice made him grin, and there was the faintest hint of a chuckle in his words. "You're welcome," he said. Gently, he reached out to push a strand of red hair back behind her ear. He realized, afterwards, that the motion might have been far too bold, but it wasn't like he could take it back. He continued, "Don't worry, I was already awake, if barely."

The shriek, needless to say, jolted him out of his tender mood. He looked over his shoulder at the door to his bedroom, but he could not see Enyo there. He saw the edge of a pile of clothing, but beyond that, there was only one flit he saw, and it was blue. The powder-blue creature had appeared out of between, probably from some far off adventure to save an exotic damsel in distress, and crawled over the bare bed. Crooning his presence to Enyo, Chicken dropped to the floor and attempted to pull the clothes away from the green. He would save her! R'len snorted lightly.

"Flits," he shrugged, his warm eyes coming back to Nimara.