1000% Done (Rilora)

[Cait]

(Kaya)

77.02.15
Evening
Rekkora & Sunvoiath's Weyr


Though Rekkora had been aware of none of it, the guard who had hauled her away from the ordeal had ended up carrying her to her weyr. He'd awkwardly held her as she'd sobbed harder than he'd seen any person cry. When the tears and sobbing were gone and done he'd washed her hands and feet of blood as best he could and when she crawled into his lap like a small, lost child he had--at the risk of being ridiculed by his fellow guards--stroked the woman's blonde hair until she'd fallen asleep. He'd lingered as long as he dared; he had a report to make and sitting around watching the Abyssrider sleep wasn't exactly in his list of duties.

Sunvoiath had watched the entire thing, silent and ever present. The most she could do was surround her rider with warmth and security and see to it that her sleep was not interrupted by bad dreams. Of course the following morning, when Rekkora woke and saw Irai's knife on the small table beside her bed, she simply sat there for countless hours, staring at it. Guards had changed, drudges had broughten and taken away meals and once more the smitten guard had returned to his post. Other things had happened that night but Rekkora was oblivious to them in her shock and her grief.

Her mind was beyond reeling. She couldn't even think of anything other than the sight of Irai's frail and broken body on the floor against the wall in a pool of her own blood. If she'd been in her weyr and not down in the record room...Moving for the first time in hours, she reached out and pulled the knife into her lap, her fingers tracing the shape of the blade.

[smear:111111]Rekkora, love. You must eat.[/smear:d5a514]

[Kaya]

Rilora walked slowly with the tray. Good food and a drink the healers had said would help with nerves. She'd had a small cup herself before coming, it helped her hands not shake. It was awful. There were inadequate words for this injustice. Attacks, more deaths, these horrible memories that they now all carried.

One of the men at the door moved to open it for her. She had wished to do it herself, she realized, but with this delicate tray she must let him. So she moved into the room and set the tray down and looked at Rekkora. She felt Archith in the back of her mind. Sunvoiath was her child, her little Queen. This matter concerned her just as much as Rilora. More even.

"Hi. How are you?" Rilora asked, leaving the space open. She recalled when Lindalyn died. She had needed that space, that permission to feel what she felt. She hoped to give the same to this woman. To stand and bear witness to this pain.

[Cait]

The door opened and Rekkora was vaguely aware of someone entering. Her fingers curled reflexively around the hilt of the knife. Then the person spoke and the Abyssrider frowned. How was she? Well at least she wasn't covered in blood anymore; S'rico had seen to that. But how was she? There weren't words, and if there were words she didn't care to say them out loud. Her thumb scraped across the edge of the blade; it was sharp but she knew enough of blades now to keep from doing herself harm. She stared for several seconds at the shaped blade and then seemed to remember that a question had been asked of her.

Dull-eyed and clearly not at all well, she over at Rilora where she stood with a tray. It took her several more seconds to realize that there was food on the tray and that it didn't look at all appetizing. Not sure what to say, a very rare occurrence in her life, Rekkora shrugged and looked away as she felt the telltale prickle of tears. That man might as well have killed her grandmother, because that was what it felt like; if felt as though she'd witnessed the violent death of family.

[Kaya]

She had looked away. Rilora held in any reaction and set the tray down on the closest flat surface, a little end table by the bed. Rekkora would get to it if she wanted. "Do you need anything else?" Open ended questions, giving her the option to reply or be silent, to ask or not ask. There wasn't a right answer. There was only for her to witness, and Rekkora to take the path she found under her feet.

[Cait]

"I need that man dead." The words came out strained and barely audible. Underneath her crushing grief and the shock of witnessing a death was rage. Unfiltered, unmitigated rage that someone had dared take someone that she'd loved from her. If it hadn't been for the guard who had hauled her back she might very well have tried to kill the other dragonrider. But even though every fiber of her being craved retribution, two turns of training and maturing told her that it wasn't likely that a dragonrider would be outright killed because of tradition and taking into account the fact that his dragon, while privy to his crimes, had not committed them.

"Sorry, no. I'm sure Artemis needs you." She hadn't meant for it to come out with an edge to the words but it had. Her emotions were barely under control despite her sedate appearance.

[Kaya]

"I have time," Rilora said, still standing. She hadn't expected Rekkora, treated so often as a volatile party, to seem so pale. Probably shock. Rilora herself was still processing that an attempt on a Queen Rider's life had been made. She was one of those. It hit home. It hurt.

"There are many capable hands to see to this matter. It won't be a swift justice, if I know anything of politics, but it will be-" be what? All the endings she could think of sounded too grim. "Ah, be just." What else could she say?

"Have you been out of this room yet, at all?" she asked.

[Cait]

Not quite sure what to think of the Weyrwoman's reluctance to leave her, Rekkora shifted her gaze to her hands. S'rico had helped her wash the blood away but she could still see it. She could smell it and feel it. She wasn't sure if it would ever go away. Absently she began to pick at her cuticles though as Rilora continued to talk and faltered at one more, she looked up. Just? The only justice she was concerned with was closer to revenge than actual justice. The look on her face was void of its usual smile or hint of haughtiness. For once she wasn't all smiles and loveliness despite the general opinion of her and her dragon.

Unable to find words enough to express her desire for more blood, more death, Rekkora sighed and shook her head. Her shoulders, usually held so straight, slumped and she slowly tipped to the side until she was curled up at the edge of her bed. "Thank you for the food, Weyrwoman but I think I'll rest now." Things were still far too raw for her to do much else but stare at the wall and relive the moment over and over in her head.

[Kaya]

"Alright, Rekkora. I'm around if you need anything, and there'll be someone at your door too," Rilora replied. She hoped Rekkora would do just that. More sleep, more time. More distance between this incident and all of them. The guard on the door would keep an eye on her eating, and though it would do her good in the long run, she wouldn't starve in a day if she didn't. The Aerie had ways of coaxing people to eat if she refused too long. Day at a time then. She felt helpless to leave, feeling she'd done so little. But Rekkora asked her to leave so she would. She could respect Rekkora's wishes.

With a troubled but honest smile she leaned on the door before leaving. For now, finish the day's troubles and then sleep. Hope was stronger in the morning.