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All things considered, Threadfall could have been worse. It had been worse. No one would or could forget the unexpcted return of the Enemy, the damage that had been done to lives and bodies nd property. There was always that horror to compare with the last, or the next, 'Fall. Still, injuries needed to be accounted for as well.

It wasn't usually Niobet's job. No, more to the point, it wasn't usually Aedeth's job to do the soothing. The temperamental queen had very little bedside manner at all. She was better in action than in nursemaiding and it didn't take long for that truth to be known.

Still, where Niobet went, her dragon was close behind, and once the skies were clear, Niobet headed for the infirmary and the spaces cleared for the dragons in need. Tight-lipped, she moved with purpose, taking in the burns and newly-torn wings and the riders pressed against their dragon's sides.

She stopped for a moment, hands on her hips as she considered which direction she should go. Spotting J'deen and Rekoriath among those scattered about the space for treatment answered the question. She set off toward them, moving with purpose. Even with all the smells in the air, the scent of numbweed was strong, and that was a good sign. Better that than being beyond the relief the weed would bring.

"How is he?" she asked without otherwise announcing herself. "How are you?"

Aedeth was responsible for the pair being at High Reaches. Aedeth had appreciated the fact the he understood and respected the rules of hierarchy that drove her from almost the moment she'd encountered the bronze. That he remembered it, and still respected it, even with an injury lifted him another notch in her estimagion. She filled Niobet's mind with not so suble approval. The rider, herself, did not roll her eyes or smirk in the slightest, though her mouth did tighten for the moment. She had learned, though, not to reject titles or respect. They had weight for her weyr mates. She could -- did -- honor that.

And the man. The man had earned his preferences. Still, she insisted, "Sit," to J'deen. "You did hard work. Take the rest you've earned. Sit with him, it's fine." At another dragon's voice in her mind, her gaze went just a little unfocused for a moment, then cleared again as she tilted her head. "He did what he was meant to do," she said then, more gently. "And even a deep burn will heal in time, Sit with him," she said again, "and he can rest too. Now." A little smile. "What am I having brought for you to eat?"

Would you rather he was somewhere else? Sending him away will not make him easy, Aedeth answered Renkoriath. And your worry will not ease the pain.

That was a concession, Niobet knew, and she took it gratefully. Focusing on anything other than the dragon at his side had to be next to impossible, but it had to be done. Though she and Aedeth had never been through an unjury this sevre, she still clearly understood how the bond worked, what it required and the attention it demanded. She knew, too, that a rider could lose themselves in concern and worry, and that wouldn't happen here. Not while she could do someting. So when he sat, she gave him an approving nod. And when he actually asked for something, as vague as it was, it felt like relief.

She flagged down one of the lower caverns staff, a young woman hurrying back in their direction with a currently empty tray. "If you would," she said to the other woman. "A bowl of broth, a thick slice of bread, and a mug of wine." Those were simple things, nothing heavy, nothing that even the most distracted couldn't digest. As the young woman darted off to relay the request, Niobet hitched her trousers up and took a seat, herself.

Aedeth moved closer to Hers and the injured pair, hunkering down into her shoulders as she studied the bronze. Mine will make certain tat he does not. You have done your duty. Now he must do his. As she sat, the gold began a low, rumble, meant to be soothing.

"Of course," Niobet answered with a nod and a faint smile. "Better to have company than to have you sit here, scaring off anyone who might come to wish you well with that scowl you had going." She said it lightly, off-handedly, and it was miles away from anything meant as an insult. "Not that I can fault you, but there are times when our reputations do us no favors."

And there were times when they helped, as the young woman was back in no time with the requested tray. Broth, bread and wine, all delivered on a tray she passed to J'deen before racing off again.

Niobet let him eat a few moments, undisturbed, before asking, "What happened up there? Do you know?"

Niobet was just as happy to have him grumble and eat as do nothing but worry his draon, so she didn't mind a lack of words. Still, the question had needed asking. At least he'd had a few moutfuls of food first.

As he answered, she cast a glance at the sky. No danger of more Thread in this moment, but it would fall again. That was undeniable. "There's formation and then there's keeping your eyes open for emergencies. It must have been madess up there." Which could be said about nearly every Fall, but of course they didn't all result in this sort of injury. "That't not an excuse for anyone," she added quickly, looking to J'deen again. "But I don't imagine there's much of a way to call the flame back or redirect once it's out."

She moved a hand then, almost touching the bronze before she stopped herself. "Do you mind? Does he?"

Mine wishes you to know that she is concerned for your pain as well, Aedeth told Rekoriath.

"I suppose that means more training, for all of us," she said with a wry smile. "Salt for the wound. And you'll be speaking with your wingleader?" That was less wry, more genuine. The difference between how she and her dragon would have reacted to such an accident were worlds apart, if no less potentially dangerous.

Niobet smiled a little at the exhaled breath, and rested her hand, very lightly, against Rekoriath's snout for a moment. "Of course you'll recover," she said out loud, once Aedeth had passed the thought along. "It's still a shame. I hear, though," she went on, tone gone teasing, "that some ladies appreciate a scar got valiently."

Aedeth didn't roll her eyes but she did let go an impressive snort.