Another night of little sleep. Ever elusive, it wanted to flit away from her fingers like a dancing firelizard. The night air was cool, a good respite from the unusually hot days that the summer had gifted the Weyr. So she breathes deep, warmed by the fur blanket around her, staring blearily at the ceiling of her home. Across the way, she can hear Slistalth’s shifting, his breathing and sighs. Even without touching their bond, she knows he’s awake. Sleep never comes easy for either of them, not since the fall that robbed her of her light.

K’vos sits up, fingers pushing her hair back to tame the bed-tossed locks. She debates getting up fully or just laying back down and relaxing until either sleep or the morning came.

Her son decides that for her. His snuffly breaths suddenly stutter and he whines, nearly turning over into a cry. She stands slowly from the bed, dressing in clothes that don’t quite feel like hers as she crosses the distance to his crib. “Shh, shh…” With the gentlest touch, she scoops up Chezuri and cradles him in her arms. He fusses a few minutes, shoving his wet face against her--tears? Odd..

He dreamt of Her. Slistalth’s voice is gentle, tired. Exhausted from grief. K’vos turns and sees the dull eyes in the dark, head turned to look out the ledge opening. He knows she is gone. I try to distract him when I can, but he knows. Shifting Chezuri in her arms, she rubs his back, trying best to console someone who grieved without understanding.

“You’re a good dad, Slis.” Her own voice sounds foreign to her ears. Perhaps the lack of sleep, perhaps the grief that pulled her own tears from her when she lay to face the empty side of the bed.

As you are a good mother. K’vos snorted, and he turned his head finally to look at her. I mean it. I function the best I can without-- Zurath. Even the mention of his beloved’s name made him pause, they grey in his eyes darkening. I cannot imagine needing to care for someone else in all this grief. You are very strong.

Tears hedged the corners of her eyes, but do not fall this time. Instead, she crosses the expanse to be at his side. “C’mon, dad. Hatchling on board, make room.” The old words sound almost a bit stale in her mouth, but she can almost smile up at Slistalth in the dark. The big blue shifts and adjusts, opening his arms and lifting his head to cradle his rider and his hatching against his chest. Slistalth gently wufts air over Chezuri’s wisps of hair, but the baby is sound asleep against K’vos.

The night is better with herself pressed against her blue’s chest, and her son’s breathing in her ear. Gently, she starts idly counting to herself the date. Chezuri’s nameday was rapidly approaching--but not quite yet. Belatedly, she realizes it’s the morning of her own nameday. It’s a stinging feeling, trying to not dwell on a first without her bright love to wake her up with well wishes and kisses. Instead, Slistalth’s head comes down, nuzzling against her with the utmost care before laying on the stone.

Happy nameday, K’vos.

“... Thanks, Slis.”