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He's back on his side, eyes closed and hands scratching at the stone beneath his face. The ex-Archmage shakes his head and scrunches up his face. "Focus. Warmth. He's getting quieter." He shakes his head again and rasps his fingers against the stone. Iliro is tired, and thirsty, and his stomach is in knots but he knows he won't keep anything down for very long. "I'm sorry." The words come out in a wheeze and he screws his face up tighter. "This isn't what I wanted, I'm sorry, just hold on, they're coming." He's just spent a day and a half fighting for life and it isn't even his body that's dying this time, and none of this is fair to anyone. "They're coming, they're coming."

His nails scratch harder against the stone the quieter that Lorsan gets, and soon it starts to hurt as he rubs the thin skin raw, but he keeps going. "Wake up wake up wake up-" The thrum comes back and he relaxes marginally. "They're almost there, they have to be..."

He gasps and jerks upright a couple hours later, because he can feel the moment that Lorsan realizes he isn't alone. "I think..." Lorsan is gone though, that thrum quieting down until Iliro can barely sense it. He must have passed out. "I think they found him but it's bad. I can't hear him, I can't-"

He's ruined everything. He's killed the dragon. He sits there, frozen, staring up at the tunnel entrance, and waits.
 
Alessa sighs quietly, rubbing at her face with her claws. Nothing she says will get through to Iliro, so she just lays behind him again. When he's rubbed his fingers raw, she takes human form and grabs his hands. She doesn't pull him up, but she doesn't let go of his hands either. Alessa sits in silence, listening to the human ramble.

When Iliro jerks upright, Alessa startles again. She'd been falling back asleep, chin on her chest. "Iliro, look at me. Please eat something. It's been some time since the patrol left. If they found him, it's going to be a while before they get back." She pauses, and when she receives no answer, she becomes frustrated. "Human, if you don't eat I will shove it down your throat. You promised me you would eat, and I've let you go more than a day without. Eat. Now."
 
His head snaps around and the look on his face is haunted. He doesn't want this connection, doesn't want to be praying for the creature that nearly ripped him in half to return safe. Doesn't want to be in his head while he dies, but he is and it's ruining him all over again. He can't defy her though, not because he's afraid of Alessa but because he promised her, and she's been nothing but kind to him.

So he tries. He sits cross legged beside her, staring at the mouth of the tunnel as he eats little bits of food that he doesn't bother to taste. Sips water and then just lets it sit in his mouth before he remembers how to swallow. He's dying but he's not dying, because he's not Lorsan but when he pushes hard enough he feels like he is. He sits and he waits and he stares and he rages inside. He manages to nibble his way through an entire apple and a small chunk of bread before his stomach revolts and he has to split his focus between Lorsan and not throwing up.

"He hates himself for what he did." Iliro mutters. "It's eating him alive just like it is me. I wanted him to feel the way that I did, and I guess he already was. So why do I feel so miserable about that?" His voice is soft and cracked, and he isn't so much talking to Alessa as he is voicing his thoughts to the wider universe, pleading for wisdom.
 
Alessa relaxes as Iliro finally eats, folding her hands in her lap. She watches him eat, making sure he doesn't choke as he focuses on the exit tunnel. His words make her press her lips into a thin line. "From what little experience I have with humans, aside from yourself, I find they get so wrapped up in themselves, and give little consideration to others. I know that's not what you want to hear, though."

Over the course of the next two hours, Alessa returns to her natural form, yet again laying her head beside the human. Word traveled fast as other dragons awoke, so the basking pit nearest to the dais is left empty, awaiting Lorsan's arrival. Alessa's eyes keep turning upward, though she doesn't move.

Then suddenly her head is up, tilted, hearing something Iliro hasn't yet. Then there's wingbeats echoing from the exit tunnel. The party of dragons sent out to search for Lorsan have returned. Three are flying in a line, one close behind the other, carrying a limp black form. Alessa leaps to her feet, bounding off the dais as the group descends to the basking pit nearby. Almost as an afterthought, Alessa's tail thumps the ground in front of Iliro. "Stay there! Do as I say!"

Two great leaps bring her to the edge of the basking put. Another lands her in it as the three set Lorsan's body down. His scales are dull, no shine to them, and he's so cold, he's not even shivering. Alessa presses the side of her head to his chest, holding her breath. After what seems like too long, she breathes a sigh of relief. "He's alive.. Someone go get Treya."
 
He wouldn't have moved even if she hadn't ordered him to stay because he's completely frozen.

Claws and teeth and pain, ripping pain. The dragon is mangling him, ripping him to shreds...

One of the dragons rushes away to fetch Treya but she seems to have been on her way already.

They all heard him, he wasn't quiet, but they did nothing to help him ass he was eviscerated-

Iliro scoots around until he's facing away from where everyone is huddled around the black dragon, and he lays down, trying to even out his breathing. It's coming fast and sharp and short but if he lays down, if he just lays very still they'll all ignore him and focus on their leader. Their leader who had... who had...

Iliro bites down on his hand to control himself, just like Lorsan had that day.

He lays there while they fuss over Lorsan, and when he can finally feel the thrum of life again, his entire body goes lax.
 
Lorsan is unconscious, limp, and certainly on the verge of death. Treya arrives and steps into the basking pit alongside the black dragon, checking him over. With Alessa's help, she positions his body on his stomach and chest, tucking his legs comfortably around him. Black leathery wings are folded against his sides, tail laid alongside his body. They set his head among the coals, long neck curved, but not tightly. Other dragons join them, massing around there General. Their wings spread over him like blankets, trapping the heat from the coals around him.

It's several hours before Alessa leaves the basking pit. Lorsan is shaking now, muscles shivering. Despite the heat of the coals and the bodies of other dragons, he's still cold. Raising the temperature of a cold dragon takes time. Alessa needs to care for Iliro, her platonic love for Lorsan still driving her need to protect the human. She takes human form as she arrives on the dais, touching Iliro's shoulder. "Come on, let's get you into bed. You need to sleep."
 
The idea of sleep terrifies him. Even if Lorsan can't get close, the dragon is inside of him, and he's inside the dragon. Their mutual misery is on a never ending feedback loop and it has to stop. It has to.

He doesn't want to go to sleep, but he isn't going to argue with Alessa so he gets up, weak and uncoordinated, and hobbles back to his cave, only having to lean on her to get down from the dais. Once back in hisbcave, he flops into the bed and despite how hard he is trying to avoid it, he's asleep before his head even lands in the pillows. His dreams, when they come, are muddled and dark.

The dragons are taking it in turns to help warm Lorsan by the time he wakes up. He can see them on the farthest side of the cavern from where his cave is, can see black scales between multi colored legs. He grabs a pillow and one of the furs and drags them to the entrance of the cave to lay back down on his side on the ground to watch what unfolds.

I want you to wake up. I want you to wake up. I want you to wake up.

The flowers are still scattered in the cave entrance, and he plucks idly at kne as he watches the activity around Lorsan's pit.
 
Eighteen hours have passed since Lorsan's cold body was carried in. In that whole time, he hadn't moved at all. Treya hadn't left the pit either, constantly monitoring his heartbeat. Though the other dragons were taking it in shifts to cover their General, the white healer has had little sleep. Alessa has managed to sleep, though it's been on the stone floor beside the pit.

It's another hour after Iliro settles himself outside his cavern that anything happens. Even then, it's not much. There's a soft exclamation, and one of the dragons leaves the pit, heading down a tunnel that's some twenty feet off the floor. Through the gaps in the collection of wings, silver eyes can be seen open. They don't seem to be able to focus, though, pupils unable to decide if they want to be constricted or dilated.

The dragon that left soon returns with chunks of fresh meat hanging from his jaws. He rejoins the collective in the pit, and Lorsan I'd again blocked from view.
 
Iliro watches and waits. Watches and waits. What he can feel from Lorsan is disjointed and uncomfortable.

Alessa is preoccupied. None of the other dragons are paying attention to him. the healers are busy keeping Lorsan from dying. Iliro is useless...

Except...

He gets shakily to his feet and leans heavily against the cavern wall. He needs to get away from Lorsan, needs to do something besides just sit and stare at a creature he hates. So he gets a piece of parchment and writes "at the spring" on it in case anyone comes looking for him, and folds it in half so it will stand up where he had just been laying. Then, supporting himself against the wall, he goes back to the healing spring and grabs a basket and starts harvesting more of the flowers. Iliro works efficiently and methodically to harvest the pretty little flowers, and only considers drowning himself once or twice.

I want you to get better, I want you to get better.
 
Eventually, there's only a peaceful darkness felt through the link. Lorsan is still at risk, but his heartbeat has stabilized. Treya finally manages to sleep beside the black dragon. Alessa finally leaves his side. When she goes looking for Iliro, momentary panic sends her jogging down the spring tunnel. Her footsteps announce her approach, and she only slows when her green eyes land on the human.

With a sigh of relief, the green dragon lays down on the mossy floor, huffing air at Iliro to fully get his attention. She doesn't give an update, instead asking about himself. "How are you holding up?"
 
Iliro is lost in his thoughts and in his work, so he doesn't say anything right away. After a moment, he sighs, and sits back on his heels, staring down at the moss bed he has just harvested. It takes him a moment longer to put words together to voice his thoughts. "It still hurts, what he did. Physically. It comes back now and then." He admits, staring down at the soft green moss in front of him. "But that's easier to deal with then everything in my head right now. Sorting everything out, figuring out what's mine and what's his. And now reaching out so often it's just... open. And I can feel him suffering and that's what I wanted but it's too much."

Iliro lifts a hand and runs it tiredly over his face. "This is all a fucking mess and I don't have the tools to clean it up myself." When his hand drops, he turns finally to look up at her. "What about you? You care for him very deeply. How are you faring?"
 
Alessa listens with her full attention, knowing that's what Iliro needs right now. She can't empathize with the trauma Iliro went through when Lorsan's rage and instincts got the better of him, but she can understand it. The healing of his body and mind aren't something she can help with, but maybe she can help make it easier.

Iliro's question surprises her. She hadn't expected the human to ask how she's doing. Taking a deep breath, she let's it out in a rush. "I'm alright, worried. Probably faring better than you." Alessa pauses to shift to human form, coming to sit cross-legged in front of Iliro. "Let me teach you something. You treat the link like a door, don't you? All the way open, or all the way closed. Try to think of it more like a window. The wider ypu open it, the more wind comes it. But if you only open it a little bit, you can get a nice, soft breeze."
 
Iliro watches and listens because he respects Alessa but he has his doubts about her advice. How does one stop a flood with a window?

He looks away from her, narrowing his eyes and starts to try it but it doesn't matter right now because Lorsan has gone dark, and he slams the door shut before he can experience anything of the dragon's dreams. The mage shakes his head and shrugs. "He's too quiet right now. I won't know if it works." Defeated, he sits quietly for a moment, staring down at the moss. "I have to talk to him." When he admits this, it's said in a somber, resigned tone; he doesn't want to have this conversation, but he's going to. "I have to see him when he's better, and I have to talk to him, otherwise we're both going to drive each other to madness and despair. We're just going to keep making each other miserable until we die."

He scoots towards more flowers and resumes his picking. "Will you tell me something about dragons?" he asks as he picks. "Anything? Something happy."
 
Alessa says nothing when Iliro seems too reluctant to try, but then, she has no way of knowing what's going through that link. Only that the link is there. She refrains from commenting when the human mentions needing to speak with Lorsan. She doesn't think he's ready, but that's not a decision she can make.

Something happy.. "You already know that dragonets are the most precious of the Clan, they are our future. When a dragonet hatches, it's a big celebration. Dragons put on big displays of magic, there's a big feast, games. It's a time of happiness, of proof that the Clan will live on." Alessa smiles faintly, pushing down her own personal sadness. "Dragonets discover their magic at different times, but generally after their tenth year. Sometimes it can be scary, other times frustrating. Nora, one of the older dragonets, discovered her magic in her eleventh year. She got angry with her father and threw a stone, which heated into molten lava in seconds and splashed across his chest. His scales grew back, with minimal scarring beneath, but she spent the next five days staying in flight, refusing to touch stone. She's a very strong flier because of it, and has had to work very hard to keep from melting her footsteps into the stone floor."
 
Dragons have always been a source of both great and terrible awe to scholars, and he is no exception. He listens without interrupting and works his way through his patch of flowers, and a soft, sad smile sits on his face as he does.

Alessa would make a good mother, kind and patient as she is.

It's too bad that-

Iliro sits back on his haunches and stares at the wall with a curious expression on his face, clearly thinking hard about something. He doesn't share what it is, and it isn't full formed, but he has a thread of an idea to tug on.

They talk for a while longer, and then Iliro gets worn out from the combination of his walk, his work, and his worry and he lets her know he's ready to head back. His pace is slow and uneven again but not as painful. "Thank you, Alessa." he tells her as they approach his cave. "Sincerely. For everything. I know you're only attending to me for his sake but I appreciate it nonetheless. You're a very good person... dragon." He chuckles faintly. "Both. You know what I mean."
 
Alessa's worries fade for a while as they talk, and when Iliro is ready to leave, she returns to dragon form, but walks slowly beside him, there if he needs the support. Approaching the human's cave, Alessa turns her head to look at him as he speaks. She shakes out her head and neck, faint embarrassment at his appreciation.

"I did it for him, yes. And for myself, for my need to know that he was alright." She pauses, turning her head to look toward the pile of dragons in the nearby basking pit. Lorsan is currently hidden from view. Her gaze returns to Iliro. "But I admit, I don't hate you as much as I want to. There's a saying among dragons, and I'm certain humans likely have something similar. 'If you hate it, care for it, and you'll soon learn to love it.' Get some rest, Iliro. And eat something." With that, Alessa turns and walks to the pile of dragons. A pale gold one leaves the pit to give her a spot.
 
That surprises him, and makes his eyes misty.

He obeys her because he has no doubt that she'll follow through on her threats to take him back up there. He eats enough to make it obvious he tried and drinks until he's full and then he goes back to bed.

He wakes up to the sound of the dragonets playing some game that mostly consists of them chasing and bumping into one another. He changes his clothes and grabs his notebook and charcoals so he can sketch. As he gathers his things, he passes the food Alessa has left for him and forces himself to eat some. Then he lays a pillow just outside the cave entrance, takes a seat, and starts to draw. He draws the dragonets, he draws Alessa, he draws the kindly trio of healers. And as he draws, he thinks.

He's tired of being miserable. Lorsan ruined any chance he has of leaving these mountains permanently, and he doesn't want to spend the rest of his now lengthened existence suffering. He watches the dragons play, or bask, or tend to Lorsan, and when they finally take Lorsan back up to his cave, he lets out a sigh of relief.
 
Iliro is mostly left to his own devices today, though Tera does briefly stop by to check on him around noon. It's late evening by the time Lorsan's temperature is stable enough to remove him from the basking pit, carried up to his private den by three dragons. Alessa goes with them, and the burnt orange tapestry covers the den entrance.

An hour passes before Alessa leaves the den again, though the three dragons stay behind to heat the cavern. She glides down to where Iliro is still seated, landing before him and settling her head next to him. She's tired, hasn't been sleeping much, and it shows in the heaviness of her eyelids. "Lorsan wakes for very brief periods, and he is asking about you. Not to see you, I think he can tell you don't want him. But he keeps asking if you're alright."
 
Iliro starts sketching Alessa again, now that she's close. She's easier to draw than the little ones--they bounce around faster than he can sketch--and she's close now so he can get the fine details right. He doesn't respond immediately to the news, but that doesn't mean he's ignoring her. After a moment, he nods.

"I'm not ready to see him." He admits quietly. "I don't think I can handle it. But... You can tell him... I will come see him when he's feeling better. And... that I have things to say, but that I am sorry he was caught in the storm."
 
Alessa hums quietly. She can see that Iliro's is sketching her, so she holds still. But her lips lift as she speaks through her teeth. "I will carry your message to him. He is stable now, but it will be a couple days yet before his body heat can sustain itself."

The green dragon's eyes get heavier, but she doesn't leave to her own den. Instead, she chooses to stay by Iliro, watching him sketch until she falls asleep. Her wings relax, dropping at her sides. She's so still, if not for the rise and fall of her sides, one might think she'd passed from exhaustion.
 
Iliro watches her fall asleep abd smiles gently, pleased that she's finally resting. She's been taking care of him and now Lorsan non stop and worrying about her friend, it's good to see her finally getting some sleep.

Lorsan works as quietly as possible, and hopes she feels rested when she wakes.

He spends the next few days travelling back and forth from his cave to the healing springs, helping to pick flowers until he can't reach anymore mature patches. He talks with Alessa when she comes to check on him, he makes himself eat, and slowly he feels his strength coming back. And slowly, inch by inch, he mives his pillow closer and closer to where the dragonets play each day. He makes mkre birds for them to chase, and on the third day, one of the little ones actually manages to stay in the air for a few seconds, furiously flapping her wings.

Iliro claps for her, and smiles.
 
Over the next few days, Lorsan regains the ability to heat his own body. But the weakness of near death still clings, and he's not yet prepared to make the long glide down to the cavern floor. Alessa has been busy, delivering food, helping to clean out Lorsan's cavern, as he can't leave it safely just yet, and checking in on Iliro. She has grown to actually like the human, despite her immense distaste for his spoiled personality when he'd first arrived, and her hatred from his injuring Nayru, though even that has dimmed. She's put the dragonets lessons on pause, and left them to the other dragons for flight and magic training.

Currently, Alessa is gliding down from Lorsan's cavern after having just checked on him for the fifth time that day. She can see how close Iliro has gotten to the dragonets, and instead of mistrust, her heart warms at the sight. Seeing him play with them by making paper birds for them to chase makes her smile. In a strange sense, having been caring for Iliro has given her a motherly sort of protection over him. When he claps for the dragonet, the little one bounces around like she just won an award. Alessa lands on the dais, shaking out her wings briefly. "It's good to see you getting closer, Iliro."
 
Iliro doesn't startle as easily anymore. His body is healing, though he doesn't like it when anybody is behind him. The older dragons, bar Alessa, still don't seem to trust him, and he's okay with that because, frankly, he doesn't trust them.

They left him to Lorsan's mercy and won't stop glaring at him from their basking pits. Despite his many academic qualities, social integrations have never been his strong suit, and he has no idea how to broach the subject of "It was a mistake and I feel so horribly guilty about it that I still have nightmares of the little one dying by my hands" without one of them simply eating him to avoid the awkwardness of the situation. He and Alessa have been getting along in a way, though he thinks she may still hate him on some level and he can't blame her. Still, between her, Treya and her daughters, he hasn't been as lonely as that first week he'd been here. Of course, then, the only person he'd interacted with had been...

He looks up at Alessa and tries a smile, though it still doesn't reach his eyes. That's another thing that has been bothering him: despite the fun he finds with the little ones and with his drawings, he is still breathtakingly miserable, and he thinks he knows how to solve that, but he isn't sure he's willing to try. "They're just like human children. Very large children, but still." He looks down and refolds his launcher, slots in a bird, then takes aim and sends it flying high and far. "At least they don't look at me like they'd like to throw me in the coal fires and watch me burn." He sighs and rubs a hand over his face, pushing it up into his hair which has grown even shaggier than normal in his weeks here. He leans back against the cavern wall and watches the children leap over each other to try and catch the bird, and stretches his long legs out in front of him as he considers.

"Alessa..." He asks, just loud enough to reach her, but quietly enough it won't reach the others (hopefully, he actually doesn't know how good dragon hearing is). Just saying her name seems to make him hesitate to finish the question, though, and he lowers his gaze to his lap.

How can he do this? How can he face this?

I have no other choice. Neither of us do.

"Alessa." He starts again, looking up at her with a determined look on his face. "I need to talk to him." He doesn't bother elaborating on whom.
 
Alessa settles as Iliro speaks, watching him launch another bird for the dragonets. When he says her name, she hears it loud and clear. Dragons do in fact have very good hearing. But if the other dragons hear the human, they don't make it known. Alessa has learned over the last couple weeks that it's easier to sit in silence while Iliro gathers his thoughts. However, his request catches her off guard.

"Iliro, are you certain you're ready for that? I love Lorsan as a brother, and I want him to have his happiness, the happiness I'm certain can exist between you and him. But I've also grown to care for you, and I don't want to put you in a situation that may not end well." Alessa watches Iliro closely, still as a statue, green eyes unblinking. Her gaze implores Iliro to think deeply about whether he is ready for this.
 
Iliro fiddles with his launcher, and his misery is clear on his face as he watches the blue dragonet win the fight over the paper bird and promptly start tearing it to pieces.

"Neither of us are ever going to recover fully unless we settle certain things." He tells her. "We're on an endless feedback loop of misery, guilt, and loathing and neither of us are going to get better unless we come to an understanding. I know..." He sighs and shakes his head. "I know you think this might... end in us being happy, but I don't want that. I just want to be able to function. He's forced me into this bond, and I have to learn to live with it. And so does he." Grimly, he pushes up to his feet and dusts off the seat of his pants. "And no, I don't want to go back and see the place that he..." He still struggles with the word, and winds up swallowing thickly as he wrestles with it. "Where he... hurt me. But he can't come down here yet and this has gone on long enough. I just..." Since Lorsan has returned, he's very carefully avoided looking up at the dragon's cave. Now his eyes rise until he sees the entrance, and though his face pales, his expression remains determined. "I need to talk to him. For both our sakes. Will you take me?" He asks her, lowering his gaze to Alessa again. "And will you... can you stay nearby? Just... just in case I can't... handle it?" He asks her, his voice becoming small and ashamed.
 
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