Fen rubbed a hand up and down her arm soothingly, pulling her in towards his side. He pulled out a chair and settled her gently down into it, grabbed two cups from her shelf, and filled both with wine. Small servings. “Just a bit. We won’t get you drunk. Nowhere near it. Just enough to calm down a bit.” He set the cup down in front of her and scooted his chair over next to hers before sitting. He waved Dori off and the lizard dipped out to join the dragons. She wasn’t an enormous fan of the beasts but she did have her few favorites.
“Stable?” He didn’t know what to think about that. It seemed so...foreign to think Lyrra might not be fully capable of dealing with anything that was thrown her way. But he’d watched her hover over T’sga. Lyrra was always in control, or at least she seemed so to him as she constantly corrected his own behavior. Seeing her there, and seeing her face set to start laying into him for separating her from the younger and most definitely more immature weyrling was somewhat shocking. “You have to be stable. Because I,” he took a deep swig of his wine, “am most certainly not stable. I need you to keep me running smoothly.”
He rotated the cup in both hands, staring down at it before looking up at Lyrra. She still hadn’t taken a sip. “What exactly did he say?” He wanted to know how long it would take her to get over this and return to her place as the dragonrider on his left wing during Fall, but he didn’t want to push. There was very little chance that she would forgive T’sga-shells, there was little chance that he would forgive him-but he needed her back up in the air. For both their sakes. She had better beat the bronze rider back. It seemed as if he would be winning somehow if she didn’t.
“We’re staying,” he answered Baerth’s silent question aloud for Lyrra’s benefit. Fen smiled absently as the brown hunkered down more comfortably and let himself begin to drift off, tail entwined with Phinth’s. He was glad that the green had calmed down.