Pedigrees and Injuries

Igen Weyr - Zekath's Weyr
Modest in size, it's obvious whoever lives here doesn't really follow any sense of organization. It's not filthy, but it's definitely like a young boy's room would look — because it IS a young boy who calls this weyr home. There are a few key pieces of furniture, from a worn looking couch and low wooden table, to some cabinets and bookshelves (all cluttered with odds and ends, of course) and then the bed, of course. Which is usually in disarray. Otherwise the weyr is completely functional… just ignore the clutter and clothing strewn about.

Risali is on K'vir's ledge - it's a fact. She's no dragonrider herself, of course, but there are plenty of those sitting around Igen waiting to be bossed around and Risa found That One. That One who, amid their own protests about Risa needing a healer and an infirmary, not another dragonrider, allowed themselves to be pushed into taking Risali back up to K'vir (which in and of itself was a feat, because the woman can barely speak). Hopefully Zekath is there to warn his rider because Risa can't do much more than she does; the moment that Risali dismounts and the other 'rider departs (with more tutting concern and finally frustration at Risa's blatant dismissal of sound advice), the harper finds her knees giving out on her and leaving her momentarily stranded. She looks terrible. There's coloring on her neck where hands unkindly cut off her air and bruised her larynx (presumably to shut her the hell up), her lip is cut (and swollen), there's a considerable amount of blood on her shirt, a cut above her eye that keeps dripping blood into her vision, and one eye is already starting to swell. They aren't old enough to be dark, ugly colors, but they will become alarming. Give them overnight to start healing and she'll look awful. She runs the back of one arm across her nose and that comes away with blood too. Great. She is going to bleed out on K'vir's ledge. BRILLIANT. Whatever it is that grounds her for a moment dissipates, and she pushes herself to her feet once more so that she can MAKE FOR THE DOOR. And then hesitate. What in Faranth's good name is she doing here? She stills, looking suddenly lost, looking like she just might start to hyperventilate right there if tears aren't a viable option; for once, Risali looks vulnerable, standing there, swaying, thoughts unreadable but clearly unpleasant.

Zekath is there and if Risali wasn't so out of it in her pained and injured state she would likely hear the bronze's concerned and alarmed rumbling and warbled-growls. It's not out of panic but he actually LIKES that little spitfire of a woman and, well, she's clearly hurt. So of course he rouses K'vir, never mind that the bronzerider JUST got to sleep after a double shift and extra drills and training with the Guards. NO SLEEP FOR YOU! Not that K'vir really cares; as soon as Zekath's message cuts in through the grogginess, he's leaping from his bed, barking his shin on a nearby piece of furniture for his rush to the door. Don't worry, Risali. He has his pants on. No shirt though! Here's your shirtless bronzerider to rescue you? "RISALI?" K'vir exclaims in a mix of shock, awe and horror as the door swings open forcefully and he's reaching for her; reaching out to support her as he tries to absorb the change in her and those terrible injuries. "What — what in Faranth's name happened!? Why aren't you in the Infirmary?"

Risali does miss so much noise from the bronze, distracted as she is by… well… whatever happened to her. The tiny woman's entire frame has even started to tremble, be it from shock or fear or — oh good. There's K'vir, cutting right through her mental static with her name relayed in decibels that draw grey eyes to him. For all of a second she stands there wide-eyed, looking every bit the damsel in need of saving when he reaches out for her and then she winces. "Faranth, Kyzen. Voice, voice." Even her voice is raw, forced, breathy, cutting out on syllables, squeaking on others. She probably won't be able to speak properly for a while, and one hand goes onto K'vir's bare chest as the other catches at his bicep and she shakes her head - which sends little flecks of blood flying. Faranth, she didn't mean to do that, and there's another wince. "I fell," she tries and then has to gasp down a harsh breath that sounds horrifyingly difficult to catch. One, two, and she tries again. With a smile this time. "Looks worse… than it is?" Probably not. She clearly got her ass handed to her, and then she waves a hand dismissively at mention of the infirmary. "Too many… questions. Are you…" Swallow, another of those painful sounding inhales. "Are you going to make me stand here all day?" She even uses the hand on his chest to give him a very gentle smack, for emphasis and nothing more. Well, it seems that her ire hasn't fled completely, even if it has been beaten (literally) down into a mere ember.

K'vir can ignore the blood, IS ignoring the blood, that spatters onto his bare skin. Just hearing her struggle to speak has a chill going up his spine and the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. "Bullshit," he calls her out on the old "I fell" excuse. "Unless whatever you fell down tried to choke you!" He's careful to keep his voice levelled and lowered but there's so much emotion and force behind those words all the same. When she refuses the Infirmary again, he gives her a LOOK but he decides now is not the time to argue. If he has to go find a Healer and pluck them up and drag them here, he'll do it! For now though? "Can you walk? Do you want me to carry you or…?" At least he asks before doing so? Carrying her would probably just bring on too much pain but he will let her lean and support herself as much or as little against his body as he draws her inside and kicks the door shut. "Come on…" he gently encourages her and he leads her not to the couch but towards the bedroom and he will ignore any protest she makes, hellbent on seeing her settled there rather than on the not suitable couch. It's far more comfortable and he doesn't give a damn if she bleeds on the sheets. Moot point, really. "Here," K'vir murmurs, already shifting to try and help her. "Lay down. I'm going to at least remove your boots, okay? Don't… kick me or something. No funny business, I promise." He's trying to put some humour into this, at least as distraction and so long as she's not completely against the idea? He'll set to unlacing them and slipping them off. "I don't have much in the way of… stuff. Healer stuff. I'm going to have to get you settled and then go get a few things. Any requests? Alcohol?"

When K'vir doesn't buy her (poorly) tailored story, Risali affects a one-shoulder shrug and attempts another smile again — which ends more in a grimace. She can taste blood in her mouth, but that's beside the point. "Should… see the… other guy?" K'vir is not the only one aiming for humor, even if Risali's ends on an upnote that's more inquisitive than confident. Whether or not the other party's wellbeing being worse than Risa's is true remains to be seen… and guy? It's not K'vir asking if she can walk, but rather, asking if she needs to be carried that has the tiny woman giving him a gentle punch in his shoulder — then immediately regretting it when she draws back her hand and attempts to shake the pain away from knuckles that have clearly been abused if the mangled flesh on them is anything to go by. WELL. At least she fought back — and hard. "I'm not… an invalid… Kyzen." And the only reason she is not saying his full name on that dry tone is because what conversation she is managing is painful — and difficult if you are going by the way she breathes between words in a horrible wheezing sort of way. She does lean on him to get through the weyr, but only because she's trembling so violently that even walking threatens to become complex. She does protest the bed, but for all the good it does her when she's landed there anyway, and when K'vir does the gentlemanly thing to help her with her boots and tells her not to kick him, she laughs. She laughs, and she regrets that too, because it sends her into a wheezing, choking fit that leaves her extracting revenge by giving him a push away with her foot when he's done while she tries to remember how to breathe. The harper shakes her head in response to K'vir's asking if she needs anything else — and then nods vigorously at the question of alcohol, right before she UPENDS HER SHIRT riiiight over her head. "Eyes," she warns, because a true shrew warning would require her entire voice. Worry not, this time around she has a bra on (though it's looking suspiciously red in places and… are those bruises on her chest?), and she uses her shirt in the interim to press it against her face and hopefully keep most of the blood from spreading too badly on K'vir's sheets. The other hand tugs the bronzerider's sheets around her body for some decency. "More… rum? And a kiss." The last bit is sarcastic, because she knows her face is a mess, but she pulls the shirt away from it just long enough to pucker up, and then wheeze some more laughter. Ow. Cough. WHEEZE. Shes gotta stop doing that.

"GUY?" Oh yes, K'vir picked up on that! "Risali… please tell me you're joking? … you're not joking are you?" He sounds almost a little sad — frightened, maybe? — that she'd picked a fight with a man (or vice versa). "What'd he try to do to you?" Because his assumption is that the guy was going to do Something Terrible; so terrible that she would have to fight so hard to get away. His mind is already spinning to BAD PLACES but he time he has her on the bed and he's succeeded in removing her boots only to earn a push from her foot regardless. The laugh and the way she chokes and wheezes has him frowning heavily in concern, almost rushing to her side to fuss over her until he realizes she's managing on her own. Kind of. Not really. K'vir doesn't move his eyes away (sorry!) but he's not leering at her. He's just staring in mild horror at the bruising there and the suspicious redness and… He shakes his head, blinking furiously as he clenches his jaw and tries not to start ranting and raving over her injuries and plying her with hundreds of (likely useless) questions. Instead he helps her with the blanket, takes note of that request for alcohol and, whether she meant it as a joke or not, he DOES kiss her. Not on the mouth. Not even on the cheek! It's just a brief brush of his lips to the top of her head and maybe not a kiss at all but just him coming in close to murmur where she cannot see his darkened expression. "I'll get the best rum. Try to rest. I won't be long…" Just as swift he's moving away and grabbing a spare tunic and yanking it on over his head. Thankfully it's dark coloured and the blood that had smeared his skin won't show through. "Tweak. Groot. Watch." A bronze and a brown firelizard come swooping into the room and land on the few perches available, their eyes whirling in the yellow and reds of agitation and alarm as they pick up on their bonded's elevated emotions. If Risali protests her guardians, it'll fall on deaf ears. K'vir is already walking out and towards an anxiously waiting Zekath.

Risali winces, cringing, and gently applies her arm to K'vir's bicep again with a very gentle pat. "Joking," she manages to gasp out - only she's not joking. It's the bronzerider's alarm that sets the precedence for the easily given lie, and the half-smile that follows after. "Fell." Maybe if she reiterates it enough, he'll believe it (yeah, right). Regardless, they hit the bed and Risa pulls her shirt off and K'vir doesn't look away. Risali does see him taking in the damage, and it's enough to have her looking down herself before - there's a sharp little intake of breath on her part that ends on a cough, and then she hugs his sheets tighter to her body. Apparently she hadn't seen that just yet, and there's mounting panic in grey eyes that she is quick to bury behind her shirt and that onslaught of humor. At least the laughs are real - right up until K'vir is leaning in and, instead of going stiff, fingers clutch at his chest without purchase in an uncharacteristic show of need, breath suddenly uneven and highlighted by her inability to breathe quietly in the first place — before he pulls away and she busies herself with another attempt at humor (and burying her face in her shirt). "Best… too expensive. Just get… the cheapest. They'll both… get you drunk." RIGHT? Smile, falter. Risali cannot seem to keep her body from shaking, unspent adrenaline trying to empty itself out even as fear temporarily reignites the tremors, but it worsens when the bronzerider makes to leave. She doesn't protest her guardians; Risali is too busy trying to reason herself back into calm: K'vir will be right back. She's not really alone, and anyway, who the hell can get her up here in the safe confines of a dragonrider's weyr? No one. No one. Noonenoonenoone. "Be… safe," she manages around another rasping breath, and then grey eyes lift to the flits as K'vir makes for Zekath and supplies. Give her one, two, three moments to confirm the bronzerider is gone and then she does what she doesn't dare to do in front of him: she cries. She curls her knees up to her chest, hugs them against her body, and buries her face in sheets that are protected by the fabric of her soiled shirt. Her inability to breathe makes it sound even more wretched.

K'vir WON'T believe her! Nope. She can keep repeating she 'fell' as much as she wanted and he will just get all the more worked up because he knows she's lying and trying to cover it up. It would be A MESS! He's gone though but his firelizards watch and while Tweak, the bronze, remains on his vigil, it's Groot that glides down and with his strange, three-toned rumbling. He glides down and he does his best to cuddle with her and sooth. Just cry it all out, Risali! K'vir won't ever know (he's totally catching on). He's gone to fetch the things… which prove both easy and difficult. Food and drink are the easiest; he packs a considerable sized basket full of (easy to eat) goodies and shoves two decent bottles of rum in there (that cost a bit but he doesn't care). Next he raids the storage caverns: first, for more sheets and anything else he figures he's lacking and may need. Last, he hits up the Infirmary and it takes forever to convince the Apprentice there to let him have what he needs. Too many questions and he's too frazzled to flirt with her but he succeeds in the end, SOMEHOW and likely by sheer determination and stubbornness. So he's fairly laden down when he returns on Zekath, having to make several trips in to drop everything off inside and then move said bounty into the bedroom. "I'm back," he announces rather unnecessarily as a few items are set down. A glance towards the bed, quick and hurried, "You ok? Where's it hurting most?" That's what they need to do, right? Assess the damage? He'll crouch down to grab one of the bottles of rum and open it, handing it to her as he stands again and leans towards the bed. "Here. Enjoy it. I've food too. Plenty of water…" For her to drink…. and for him to wash out any cuts she may have.

Listen, it was a particularly vicious set of stairs, okay? It got joined by tables and chairs and it was just a brutal beat down in the name of furniture domination - at least, that's her story. Clearly those stairs were tired of being… walked on. BADUM, TSH. I'm here all week. When Groot leaves his perch to join her in her misery, Risali extends fingers to rub the tip of a muzzle, along the ridges of his eyes, but is mindful not to bury her face in him lest she get blood all over him too. She doesn't speak to the firelizard outside of a broken, "Thank you", but her appreciation for his comfort is no less clear: she doesn't remove her hands from him even when K'vir is back - not yet. Blue eyes look up at the bronzerider and his impressive stock of burdens, not even bothering to wipe away at the tears that just seem to keep coming even when he begins an onslaught of questions that would normally make her want to strangle him. Instead, she just keeps staring, staring even when he crouches to retrieve alcohol, and open it, and stands again to extend it to her. Grey eyes fixate on blue, never leaving, never wavering, and then just like that she's releasing Groot and stumbling to her feet. Sheets be damned, she's reaching out for K'vir in a manner almost shameless except that, for once, there's no spark of tightly (poorly?) reigned desire in her movements. She's going to make a mess of his tunic (she'll never apologize for that, though she is sorry), but she presses her face into his chest anyway and holds on. She's trembling again, shoulders shaking, diaphragm working double time to breathe and accommodate those little breathy sobs that seem to escape even as she tries to swallow them back down and chokes on them instead. "Please… don't… leave." Again goes unspoken, because it's too difficult to manage. Proof, if nothing else, that K'vir has inexplicably become a sanctuary for her. So, nevermind not daring to do this in front of him - she can't seem to prevent it. And finally, finally, she pulls away to wipe blood and tears away in tandem, and then turns away from him to head back for the bed. And the booze. She even tries to force a laugh (though sounds terrible even to her own ears). "All… hurts. Vicious… stairs…" Haha. Ha. Ha. She will just hide herself in sheets again, thank you.

NICE TRY! Good joke though. Groot won't mind if she smears blood on him and he will happily accept the caresses she gives without asking for anything more. Those tears? K'vir will try not to bring attention them but he sees it. He sees everything and it hurts him to see her this way. Smartly he'll try to shield that from her, as she doesn't need to have that resting on her shoulders too. He makes a startled sound when she stumbles to her feet, barely uttering the words: "—don't get up! You'll hurt…" before she's reaching for him. He doesn't care about his tunic; what he does care about is holding her to him in a way not to aggravate what injuries she has. In the end? He just ends up wrapping his arms around her and cradling her against his body in as comforting and supportive a way possible. "I'm not going to leave," he promises as he holds her there and one hand even lifts to gently stroke over her hair in a soothing manner. It's okay, it's okay. He holds her until she pulls away and heads back for the bed, watching her settle herself again as a myriad of emotions surge through him. The forced laugh has him wincing and barely a change in the grim look his expression has settled to. "The rum should be good," he explains to her when he can finally/ find his voice and not have to swallow and work his jaw silently. Steady breath. Calm down. //He's got this! "We're going to have to… clean any cuts and stuff first. I brought water and cloths? Then we can see how bad things are and… what to do."

Risali can live with his reassurances; odd, how somebody so at odds with her is the first person she thinks of now when she's injured and vulnerable. The thought is deeply buried in that mental lockbox of To Be Examined Later (Preferably Never) as she presses in tighter to the shelter that he provides and gets herself back together again. Once she's settled back on the bed with the promise of rum to dull both physical and emotional pain, she finds it in her to smile at K'vir again - fleetingly. She may not have noticed his pain in response to her own, but she does note the grim expression, and the - "I'm… okay. You can…" A pause, for a gasp of air and then a frustrated motioning with hands indicating her own smile. She wants him to find humor, or yell or any number of things, but she doesn't fight him on getting her cleaned up so that she can drink. She motions him forward, and will remain obediently still for any inspection and cleaning - except for the occasional hiss of pain and obligatory shoulder-smack that follows. Despite her wordless abuses, she is gentle, glowering though she may be when he gets to any particularly nasty spots. To sum it up, really, she's got the cut above one eye, a split lip, a bloodied nose, and a swelling eye. Her jaw will be bruised, her nose will be bruised, her neck will be bruised, and there will be suspiciously finger-shaped bruising on her thighs and chest - the former K'vir likely will not see unless he insists on de-pantsing the woman. Aside from the ruined flesh on the back of her right-hand's knuckles, she is relatively unharmed. It's clear that some of the bruising on her torso are from blows (so perhaps there's a bruised rib or two if she's particularly unlucky), but nothing really lasting. When it's done, she'll try for humor again, leaning close to him with another of those grimace-smiles. "Do… I look… like a badass… or what?" Wheeze, choke, gasp. So not the business.

K'vir remains grim faced through the whole process of examining her. He's thorough too and he will mutter an apology whenever she hisses in pain or smacks him in the shoulder; he doesn't mean to but his touch isn't always gentle. It's from lack of experience in tending the seriously wounded and while some of his S&R training covers this? It's one thing to actually practice it AND on someone relatively familiar. He's also keeping a lock down on the MAJOR emotions, a struggle there for him too as he's normally so open. It feels strange and alien to him and it makes him feel so incredibly unsettled, along with seeing her so badly roughed up and beaten. He'll wash away the worst of the blood as he takes note and stock of what is the worst and relieved than none of her cuts seem deep enough to warrant stitching. His blood will run cold when he glimpses her neck and it's a GOOD thing he doesn't think to ask if she's hurt anywhere else quite yet because though his skin has paled, it soon flushes with color again as he struggles to keep his anger at this UNKNOWN MAN at bay. "You look like I did when I had my ass handed to me trying to break up a duel." He pauses, gives her a mock-stern look that… is still a bit too genuine. "… please tell me that's not what you did?" Satisfied with his work, he'll toss aside the bloodied towels and reach in to the 'kit' he brought. Next up? "Numbweed. I know you plan to drink but… figured we'd really make sure you felt nothing for a bit. Deal?" It means MORE TOUCHING!

BENEFITS! See? K'vir is getting in practice on doing FIELD MEDIC things and Risali doesn't have to get the 20 questions rundown from a stern-faced healer that's arguably less fun to be doctored by than K'vir. It's when K'vir speaks again that Risali seems to draw back in on herself as her mental race to find adequate words projects itself into a physical manifestation of grey eyes casting down and then to the side and spurs along hesitancy to answer. "Fell," she repeats, forcing another — gasp wheeze struggle breathe — laugh. "I bet… you looked… like a badass… too." Risali's hand comes up, extending towards K'vir's hair as if to tuck some of it away from his face, and then she hesitates at the last second. It's clear what she was going to do, regardless of whether she follows through with it or not, and then she does. She does because he is working hard, and he is doing this for her, and he would be well within his rights to throw her over his shoulder and cart her to a healer on Zekath, but he is sharing his home (more importantly, his bed) and tending to her himself instead. It makes that part of her that's so sure and confident always do an unnerving flipflop and settle somewhere in her chest. Surely he can't hear her heart suddenly going warp speed. That would be ridiculous. Eyes go to the numbweed, and Risali pulls a face that she quickly unpulls because Faranth that hurt. "You… hate… me…" is her only protest, but the harper nods her head once in a show of obedience and then closes her eyes. DO YOUR WORST, BRONZERIDER. Or… numbweed. Whatever. At least it's the external salve and not the internal knock-you-on-your-ass and have-a-nice-sleep powder. But while he works? A slight hesitation. And then… "Thank you." Followed shortly by another, "But… I still bet… I look… cooler… than you did." HACK HACK COUGH GASP. She's funny, this one. "Why did… you stop it?" The fight, she means.

"Yeah, I looked like one but didn't feel like it. Got lectured by just about *everyone* for my actions. Didn't matter in the end anyhow because one of the duellers died." K'vir shrugs his shoulders to that but gives her a LOOK when she insists, again, that she "fell". Only he sighs and doesn't push it; he'll GET HER later! Probably after she's well boozed up on that rum. He will pause when her hand lifts like that, eyes moving from her to where it hangs suspended and then when she goes through with it? She may feel the subtle lean, the acceptance of it, even as his eyes lower back to the task at trying to make her comfortable and not suffering so. He doesn't hear her heart and luckily for her he won't feel it when it's going warp speed; his heart is still beating fast from the shock of her showing up in her state and, lets face it, her proximity. "What? It's numbweed! Not fellis. Unless… you want fellis?" He'll go fetch that if that's the case! At her okay, he'll begin to apply the numbweed, working carefully and cautiously but despite that he's going to lose partial feeling in his fingers. Those bruises? There are times when his touch seems to linger just-so or trace just-so… studying the damage but also committing it to memory as he offers her relief from the pain. Temporary but enough. "You're welcome." he murmurs back as he settles back on his heels once he figures he's got the worst of her injuries numbed. Capping the container, he sets it aside and peers up at her, frowning heavily at that coughing and gasping. Yeah… no. "Because it was stupid. The reason they were duelling? They were drunk. It just seemed pointless… Not that anything I did helped. I got roughed up, almost gutted for it and the one guy ended up dead all the same. So." Lesson learned?

Oh, but Risali laughs. She regrets it, but she laughs - right up until he imparts the knowledge that one of the two duelers ended up on the business end of whatever it is that almost gutted K'vir. She sobers quickly, grey eyes going wide before brows furrow. "I'm… sorry…" she manages. And oh, but if touching him doesn't give rise to instant goosebumps that he'll probably see given he's just about to study a good portion of her body pretty thoroughly. THEN HE (she) RUINS IT. Fellis? Her response is to punch him (and regret that again because KNUCKLES. OW), followed by an exasperated sound that would be so much more convincing if it didn't sound more like a strangled gasp for breath. Still, the hit to K'vir's shoulder is gentle, with no true malice behind her closed fist. When the bronzerider goes to work, Risali's tension seems to rise again - especially when his fingers linger, but it's not because he's making her uncomfortable; to the contrary, K'vir's concern and careful ministrations serve to raise her guilt until it's tangible enough for her to choke on. Which she does, but only after he's answered her question. Tentative fingers reach out to touch at the corners of his mouth when his lips pull into a frown, and she breathes, "You are… very… brave…" But just like that, she's pulling away from him and getting to her feet wincing at distant hurts even as she goes and RAIDS HIS SHIRT DRAWER. Fight her. You showed her where they were last time and that was your mistake. Speaking of which, she pulls one out and pulls it over her head, unhooking her bra with some difficulty before pulling it off and pulling the shirt down completely. OFF HER PANTS GO. GETTING SHUCKED. Clearly somebody thinks she is spending the night again - and yes. She looks down only too late to see the barely-there-but-forming bruises lining her thighs. Wince. Maybe if she plays it off… Hobble, SHEET RETRIEVAL, and Risa is scrambling back up and onto the bed. "My dad… was a renegade…" she informs him, as if trying to distract him. "He… taught me… how to fight. Did… did your Dad?" ‘Teach you’ goes unfinished; she needs to give her throat a break, and she does so under the guise of fluffing pillows and getting comfortable. PATPATPAT next to her. COME HERE BRONZERIDER.

K'vir doesn't so much as laugh as grimace further when she does over his tail of the duellers and the tragic end to it. "Don't be? Not your fault. Just saying," he mutters, only to weather that punch to his shoulder with a growled half-curse that doesn't really have any heat behind it. His annoyance too is more for his concern that she'll hurt herself further. "I was just saying that I know what fight wounds look like. So don't try to keep bullshitting me that you "fell" down or off of something." Cue a bit of a hard look from him but that will soon soften and just before her fingers touch the corners of his mouth. That startles him a bit, his blue eyes lifting to meet her grey in silent wonder to that sudden show of affection. He snorts a bit, a quiet huff. "No I'm not. I just act that way," he mumbles, only to start to protest when she gets up AGAIN! And don't think he didn't glimpse her legs! He totally did, not to be leery but those bruises. His hackles raise for what little he saw on her thighs but it's enough. ENOUGH for him to assume something terrible. "Risali…" he speaks her name gently but there's an edge to it beneath. "Did they hurt you… anywhere else?" NOT quite as blunt as it could be but perhaps obvious enough what he's hinting at. His eyes follow her all the way back to the bed and he's rising to sit on the edge of it, waiting (and dreading) the answer. What he doesn't expect is Risali to openly tell him that her father was a Renegade. "Was a Renegade? My father… Yeah, he taught me a little. He was a Guard, once. I learned some fighting too from a friend. Ha'ze? He was once Holdless, I think before Impressing." So he has a bit of this and that as far as fighting knowledge.

This is the problem with Risali: she doesn't know how to be romantic (maybe not the right word, but you get the gist). She might, but if she does, she's keeping that fact very well hidden; which is to say, as soon as K'vir looks up in wonder and locks blue with grey, Risali's cheeks flush and she uses her uninjured hand to turn his attention away again. NOPE! NOPENOPENOPE. A whole lotta nope going on right there. It's not that she doesn't want the bronzerider to look at her, but that when he looks at her like that, her difficulty in remembering how to breathe increases ten-fold. Not to mention her face is terrible and swollen and unattractive. Still, his proximity and that look makes Risa think about rum, and kisses, and dancing and — now is not the time. It's the conviction behind this thought that spurs her out of the bed and into K'vir's clothes, dressing herself in things that are his without so much as a courteous, 'May I?' "Well, isn't that… what bravery is? It's not… being fearless, it's… doing something even though… you're afraid. That's what… my Dad says, anyway." Cue the question. Grey eyes lift to blue, holding K'vir's gaze for a quiet moment that stretches into forever and she says nothing. She says nothing as his eyes follow her back to the bed, she says nothing as she fluffs pillows, and only speaks when it's to attempt distraction in the form of Daddy's secrets. There's a half smile for his question, and then grey eyes drop to the sheets she's now plucking at the hem of. "He… was. He's a… dragonrider now. A bronzerider. He doesn't… talk about it. His parents… died when he was… twelve and… he raised my… my aunt when she was just… 6 months." A pause, as she catches her breath, and continues. "Somebody… saved him and… he ended up in… a renegade camp. But… he hunted. Food, I mean… He never…" Pause, breathe. "He never… hurt anybody. He got… hurt though. And so he… he taught us how… to fight. My brothers and… and me." Now she shifts, moving to be closer to K'vir as if she's finally made up her mind on something. She doesn't press her body into his, but she does catch his face between both of her hands, pressing her forehead against his despite numbweed and cuts, and she breathes. One, two… and there's a hitch in her voice. "I… miss him." Exhale. "I was… I was scared. But…" Breathe, breathe. "But they didn't… hurt me… anywhere else." She was going to lie; Risali was going to tell K'vir that she got the bruises from a lover and see if he'd buy into it, but telling another lie seems calloused in the wake of his careful understanding and help. She is crying, if the sudden wetness K'vir will feel ON HIS PRECIOUS FACE is anything to go by, and Risa's little frame is trembling again - but she doesn't let K'vir go. She stays close, forehead pressed to his, using the proximity to piece herself back together again. Nobody ever said she wasn't strong. "I think they… just wanted to… scare me." It worked. "But I… don't want to… talk about it. Tell me… about Ha'ze and… your childhood." She'll touch on his father later, like when she has her own back and can get through the conversation without crying.

K'vir shrugs off having his head turned away by Risali's hand. Better to be pushed or guided than slapped! He really is clueless on the romantic end of things but he may just be one of those sappy naturals without really trying. Which means he's bound to screw up as equally as he is to succeed. He's no idea the effect he's caused on Risali then, still focused as he is on how battered and bruised she is from her altercation. "Yeah… He's got the right of it, your father." he admits quietly and he'll just grit his teeth when she refuses to say anything about those bruises on her thigh. He won't push things, but he will start to clean up and likely help himself to that other bottle of rum; he got two for a reason! Only then will he resettle on the bed while she shares with him some of the story behind her father. "It sounds like he had a very rough life," he murmurs, only to realize she's shifted closer and is now pressing her body into his, resting her forehead to his… and is crying. He doesn't say anything, except to lift his hand to her shoulder and hold her there to avoid touching any of her bruised skin. "I'm sorry," he whispers back. "I really am." Truly. There's relief when she admits finally to not being further injured in ways K'vir really didn't want to think about. It's good she did not lie, he would probably have gone hunting for blood after he'd seen her settled and sleeping. "Alright…" K'vir DOES want to talk about it but he will let her win this time without argument. Instead he shifts so he can rest comfortably and draw her with him, still held in a protective and supportive hold. "Ha'ze was a Holdless man who Impressed to bronze. I was real young then but for some reason bonded to him like… a really good friend. Brother, almost? It drove my parents crazy. But Ha'ze taught me a lot of things. Helped me when some of the other weyrbrats started picking on me because of who I was. That's where I learned to fight dirty, though I don't like to if I can help it. Then some bad stuff happened and my father exiled Ha'ze, along with a young goldrider. I lost touch with him, even after he came back. We're still friends and close but it's changed. Maybe I grew up? I dunno." There's a faint shrug for that. "I'd Impressed Zekath too so that might be it. My childhood was… good? I mean, it sucked at times but no where NEAR as bad as some have it, so I don't even really like talking about it. You'd probably think I'm just some spoiled brat, given who my parents are. Didn't have many friends. Not a lot of kids found it easy to befriend the Weyrleader's son. Y'know?" OH HEY, Risali! Did you know he was a pedigree runt? YOU SLAPPED AND ASSAULTED a Weyrleader's son! ENJOY THAT.

And Risali shifts with K'vir, curling into his side, tucking her head into his shoulder and grabbing one of his hands again while he speaks so that she can trace the lines of his palms and delineate the length of his fingers. She brushes over his knuckles where her own are messy, and travels further up this time than what she did last time; Risali chases a vein from wrist to forearm and pauses at the crease of his elbow while he speaks, only stopping long enough to furrow her brows and look up at him with some kind of muted emotion when he admits to being picked on — and learning how to fight dirty. Eventually Risali settles again, listening to K'vir spin his tale and end by dropping a bombshell. She pulls away from him with a clear look of disbelief - and then laughs. It hurts, she wheezes, but she manages to catch her breath. SPEAKING OF PEDIGREE BRATS, you get away with slapping and assaulting a Weyrleader's son when you're a former Weyrleader's daughter - right? "My dad… he was… weyrsecond. Eventually… he became… a weyrleader. But he…" A pause, another deep breath. "He never… wore his knot… or his authority. So…" Pause, breathe. "I didn't have the same… problem. My Mom was…" Risali exhales here, as if frustrated, and then continues slowly, "A Junior Weyrwoman." That probably explains a lot. YOU KISSED A THOROUGHLY PEDEGREE BRAT. TAKE THAT. Despite the tears still on her cheeks, Risali gives K'vir a smile bordering on gentle and reaches out again, without hesitation this time, to brush some of his hair from his face. "We should… practice with… each other. I'll… I'll win every time, but…" Risa lets herself fold back into the bronzerider, rolling her head on his shoulder so that she can look up at him again. "But you should… let me… kick your ass… anyway. I owe you… a beating." Breathy laughter. At least it seems to be getting a little easier to breathe. Grey eyes shift around his room, and she goes silent for a long moment before she inquires, "How many… of your special friends… do you bring home?" Random, but she's genuinely curious. Her moving away from him and curling up under his sheets, curling and arm under a pillow and shoving it under her own while she waits for an answer is just a coincidence. Probably. Maybe.

K'vir allows her to take his hand without question, shifting the bottle of rum over to the other even if it means he will not be able to take a sip of it. He's not quite looking to get as drunk as before. When she suddenly draws back after he tells her his SECRET (not really), he looks disappointed to start. He's about to scoff too and roll his eyes when… "You're father was a… oh." Now he's starting to laugh and will continue to do so when she states her mother is a goldrider. "My mother is a bluerider, but my grandmother is a goldrider, retired now. Used to be Fort's Senior. Does that still count?" he rambles between chuckles. THEY'RE BOTH BLOODED (by Weyr standards)! Look at them "flaunt" their bloodlines like it even matters in the eyes of the Weyr. He won't stop her when she brushes some of his hair aside and likewise he will lift a hand up to gently brush a thumb over her cheek where those tears still linger. It's meant to be a casual gesture but it likely is read as something far more than that; it's so brief though, that moment and she is already curling up against his side again. "When you're healed, maybe we can spar. No promises I'll go easy on you!" he muses and teases in return but who knows? Maybe he's serious! Then she's drawing away again and while he's not sure why (nope, doesn't make the connection!), he'll leave her to settle as she choses on the bed. "Very few? Unless they're here in Igen and… in the Weyr. Even then? I dunno. I think only Sharaza's been here and once at that." he admits in full honesty.

K'vir's laughter - it gives rise to gooseflesh almost instantly, though even Risali is unsure if it's because of the sound or simply the bronzerider easing up after so much grim-faced seriousness. One thing is for sure: Risali's shoulders lose tension, her body seems to become lightweight, and she's inexplicably drowsy. "I don't think… any of my grandparents… were dragonriders." Even if they were, she doesn't know the maternal or paternal grands well enough to be able to confirm; regardless, Risali's breath catches at the touch to her face and her heart starts a disquieting beat against her ribcage, chasing all thoughts of lineage and blood ties aside until K'vir's voice brings her back to reality. Another laugh, breathy though it may be. "Don't be… a coward, Kyzen. I bet you… hit like a girl… anyway." BUUUUUUURN. But there's no malice. Risa sits up long enough to retrieve his bottle of rum (despite having her own), and takes a swig of it before handing it back. Down she goes again, curling into the pillow, listening to him speak about encounters and Sharaza before a slow exhale. "I hope you… washed the sheets." Still, Risa pulls on his hand, trying to get him to lay beside her instead of off and to the side. "I'm tired. Will you… stay? At least… until I… fall asleep?" CUDDLE HER YOU STUPID BRONZERIDER. She needs it, now more than ever. Even if he refuses (or doesn't quite get the hint), Risali will eventually turn her back to him and curl up into a tight little ball, staring at the wall for arguably too long before finally, finally, allowing herself to drift off into sleep. The adrenaline has long spent itself, her aches are distant thanks to K'vir's quick thinking, and the bronzerider himself is like a balm for the parts nobody else can see. 'Odd,' she thinks, as slumber takes her. She never expected herself to enjoy his company. But don't worry; give her a sevenday to heal and she'll be putting K'vir in headlocks and threatening him within an inch of his life again.

"I do not! I don't hit girls. There's a difference! If we're gonna spar, it's going to be fair." K'vir grimaces and though there's still laughter in his voice, it's obvious he's both serious and teasing. Now it's his turn to push at her though he aims for the top of her head and may ruffle her hair a bit. "That's gross, Risali! Yeah, they're clean.It was awhile ago and yeah, I've washed my sheets!" SO THERE! He may live in clutter and some disorder but he's not a filthy animal! Her request won't go ignored, he will settle with her and curl up around her body. SNUGGLE TIME! He'll be sweet about it too. No funny business, no trying to push anything. Just quiet, warm company to help keep her calm and soothed. He may think similar thoughts, on how he'd never expect to be drawn to her given their initial greetings. Yet here they are, cuddling and some form of friendship beginning to weave between them. Come morning, he will help her if she needs it, applying more numbweed to the areas that are sore or stiff and hinder her the most. He'll make sure she has clothes to change into as well, aside from borrowed ones of his and some of those leftover snacks to nibble on. In the end, too, he'll offer to take her back to Xanadu, unknowing of the chaos about to occur there and that, perhaps, he should've heeded Zekath's eagerness to leave Igen.

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