Waking up is a slow process; one that she wasn’t used to. Where Ezyzu used to be a morning person, up early to get a head-start on the day, now it felt as if her bed were nothing more than the sinking sands at high tide. It felt enveloping, pulling at her limbs to return to the beak darkness that felt so comforting. Indeed, it felt so easy to turn away and sink deeper, to never want to open her eyes again when it was so quiet, so peaceful..

There’s little tugs here and there, pulling her away from the comforting darkness.

The softest shade of green, the most playful curl of white.

The steady calmness of the deepest gold.

The dredges of the inky murk finally release her as the world slowly comes back to her. A gentle pressure in the back of her mind is soothing, comforting her so dearly that she finally summons the strength to flex her fingers, feel the soft mattress under her. But the cot beneath her doesn’t feel quite the same as hers, the blankets a hair too stiff. There’s a collection of odd weights that have settled on her, shifting as she does -- and finally Ezyzu slowly opens her eyes.


The.. infirmary?

When had she gotten here?

Sleep and exhaustion still laid thick as she reached up to rub at her eyes, trying to take stock of her surroundings. It’s quiet, barely any sound to be heard -- was it her hearing, or was it late? The tips of her fingers catch the side of her head, finding the rough edge of a bandage as her eyebrows furrow and she further tried to piece together what had happened. It was a rather large bandage, starting at the curve of her cheek and racing up into her hairline -- still thankfully numb, if the size of the bandage was anything to go off of. She sits up, a sluggish movement as her sweat-soaked clothes try to hamper her movements. The firelizards across her body give protesting chirps at being woken up -- ones she recognizes fairly quickly. Xanael’s little blue firelizard blinked up at her by her knee, as her mother’s little green Quickstep is there by her hip for a moment, two, before blinking out of sight. Ascella, her own pretty green, climbed over the blue to peer at her closer.

“Hi sweetheart-” Oh, was that her voice? So rough and dampened.. Coughing and clearing her throat, Ezyzu reached to pet the firelizard’s head -- and she sees it.

Her leg is in.. bad shape. Even with the thickness of the bandages, she can see it’s bad. Her knuckles run against the backside of the leg, feeling the heat alone as she wracked her brain for--
Threadfall.

There are tears in Ezyzu’s eyes as she recalls the terror of such a bad fall. Her equipment had jammed again and again and again--letting them continue to be battered by their deadly enemy even down in the Queen’s Wing. Then, as they had failed to catch Eirinth, to watch as her beloved had finally succumbed to her injuries--

The pressure that had been a gentle support at the back of her mind gently begins to envelop her, a calmness that blankets the worry and fear rising within her. While Ezyzu can’t see her, she can feel the unending love and support that is her amazing dragon--and the sudden fear that she hadn’t even checked on her dragon feels like a thunder strike. Her hands fly to try and untangle herself from her blankets, sending the flits scrambling to get out of her way -- but the gentle pressure is back, feeling as if someone were gently pushing her back into the cot. Ezyzu can only obey.

Easy, my sweetest girl. You need rest. Khamaith’s voice soothes her in ways that the numbweed could not, even as the tears finally fall quietly, unbidden. With part of her face numb, it’s an awful sensation that only makes her cry harder.

’You were so hurt, still hurt, and I didn’t even go to you when I first woke. I should have-- I should be--’

There’s a moment of pause in Khamaith’s mindvoice, feeling the pensive way her beloved gold holds her head when she ponders a correct answer to something. Do you not recall when you were lucid amidst your fever? The question is almost tentative, and makes Ezyzu start slightly.

’Fever..?’ She tries to recall, but they’re mere flashes of memory out on the ocean of her mind. ’Vaguely… I.. think mother came to see me? There’s a positive wave of assurance. Etansi, I think I remember.. Alya? Correct, and correct. Ezyzu remembers tears, so many of them.. Dhawsn? Astriana? ...Xanael?

All correct. Khamaith about radiated love and support through their bond, unable to hide how pleased she was that Hers was beginning to remember.

Yet.. Ezyzu had to ask the one question she didn’t want to. ’How.. How long have we been down here, Kha?

The golden dragon gives a start, and for what might be the first time, she feels.. Unsure. Too long. Much too long. There’s almost a keen in her mindvoice as she evades the question, and Ezyzu’s heart hurts. There was a time when you were feverish and unresponsive, and the healers thought.. I began to question... The sorrow in her voice has Ezyzu moving a second time -- hurried, though not as frantic. She simply can’t lay there while her beloved had sounded so grief-stricken, had begun to wonder if she…

Standing was a difficult process, even with Khamaith’s muted surprise and attempts to dissuade her in trying to walk. Numb though her leg was, the rider can feel the damage and pain trying to flare from deep within her leg -- like a caged animal wanting to be set free. It’s an odd throbbing sensation, one that Ezyzu grits her teeth around and braces herself against anything she can to slowly hobble her way down to the larger end of the infirmary where dragons laid within. It’s quite a feat that she doesn’t manage to get a healer’s attention with her attempts to walk -- certainly a bedraggled woman makes a bit of noise. But Khamaith gently guides her to finding her -- and as she looked upon her dragon again, the tears threatened once more.

Her beautiful, golden baby was half rolled onto her side with her wings in less than dignified positions with how the bandages were placed. Khamaith’s back was a patchwork of white and green-stained offwhite, that trailed all between her wings, over her wingshoulders, and partially down her chest. A bandage over her cheek was carefully patched so it would move with the flex of her jaw. A larger bandage covered her right front foot, tucked closer to her body protectively. Beneath one of her draped wings, the sleeping form of Baihath was pressed against her side, tucked so close that Ezyzu almost thought the white was more of a shadow against her dragon’s side. Khamaith raised her head from where it had been nestled against her beloved’s own, eyes whirling a slurry of pained greys, happy blues, and weak purples. For as sleepy as her dearest always was, Ezyzu had never seen her look so abysmally tired. Her hide had paled some in exhaustion in pain, and it’s all the woman can do to stagger across the divide between her and Hers.

She stumbles, her foot landing a bit wrong, but suddenly there’s a large golden head catching her and breaking her fall.

I have you. The pure love bleeding through such simple words has Ezyzu pushing past the tears to stand and make it to the cradle of Khamaith’s arms.

“Is he okay?” She looked down fondly at the little dragon that Khamaith had given her hearts to, looking him over for injuries--but the darkness and Khamaith’s wing didn’t reveal too much.

Injured though recovering, but time has passed since we all went down. There's fondness in her voice, a tenderness that always steeped in whenever Baihath came up in conversation. He has been wonderful about staying down here--whenever boredom doesn’t linger. A small laugh, an amused curl in her eyes -- besotted and bare that almost had Ezyzu wanting to look away as Khamaith brushed her nose against the top of his sleeping head. He was helping me to reach you when you were.. Feverish. There were times when you were almost inconsolable.. And I could not come when you called out for me.

Ezyzu reached out, stroking down the curve of Khamaith’s cheek tiredly. “You both are quite wonderful. You know that?” Her dragon perked her head up, looking surprisingly pleased at such a compliment.

I believe the healers were optimistic about your leg, however. I don’t.. think we’ll be here for too much longer. Khamaith gave a soft sigh, leaning her head into Ezyzu’s cuddles -- just as she had when she was so much smaller. I miss my wallow, and I miss seeing the sun rise over the water.

“Well, I’m awake now. Hopefully it won’t be too much longer before we’re getting back to normal.” She scratched Khamaith’s eyeridges, before her fingers followed the bright, fragile lines that looped away from her eyes. Like spun gold against her darker hide -- gorgeous. How many times she had traced these delicate lines in their weyrlinghood, and had been afraid she’d never be able to again?

No more worries. The calming push is heavier, and Ezyzu can feel the anxiety that had been building up slip away from her like sand through open fingers. You need to rest, as do it. Still a long while away from sunrise. Sleep, my dearest girl. With no room for argument, Ezyzu nestled closer to the warm chest of her dragon, shifting to lean against her neck as Khamaith laid down herself. Yet she could only close her eyes, listen to the steady breath of her dragon, count the steady beating of her hearts until sleep finally claimed her.