Dragon Rider Play

"It is difficult to explain," Tithenor sighed. He stroked along Mellon's back. "It is not really choice."

Blade tilted his head, curious now. "Why is that?"

Tithenor did not want to talk about it, but after what Blade had told him, he felt he owed the human.  "To be caring is not something that is asked of me.  I do it for myself."

Blade gave him a quizzical look. The human was still very much curious, but wouldn't force Tithenor to tell him if he wanted to keep his secrets to himself.

"Someone I cared about... died.  I have been told my desire to now care for others stems from the desire to somehow replace them and make it right," Tithenor went on, his tone cool.  "I do not believe that to be true.  The dead can never be replaced, and time cannot be reversed."

Blade shrugged. "I've heard when you lose someone close to you, it leaves an empty feeling where they used to be in your life, so maybe this is your way of coping with it. You're right, it won't change what happened, but maybe it's your way of dealing with the loss." He offered gently and respectfully.

"Perhaps it is," Tithenor agreed, "but after ten years, nothing has changed.  I feel no better."  He lifted one shoulder in a shrug.  "Ah well.  It is appreciated by some and a source of great aggravation to others."

Blade smiled some. "I think at least Mellon and I appreciate it." He paused a moment. "If you don't mind me asking, what happened?"

Tithenor's grip tightened slightly on Melloraumo.  He didn't say anything at first, his mind in a turmoil.  He couldn't.  Not yet.  He couldn't!  Could he?  He didn't even think as he muttered, "Han al-tya vil, honeg."

Blade's brow creased in confusion as Tithenor spoke in elvish. "Uh, what?"

Tithenor pinched the bridge of his nose.  Speaking in the common tongue so much was starting to give him a headache.  "Honeg, it is not a story I like to share."  That was not fair of him, and a part of him wondered if he would spill if Tithenor pressed.

"Okay," Blade said slowly. "Can you tell me what honeg means at least? You've called me that several times now..."

Melloraumo whined softly and licked Tithenor's chin. His rider was feeling not good, and the little dragon wanted to help so his rider felt good again.

Tithenor tried to calm himself, realizing he was worrying Melloraumo.  "Honeg means little brother," he said softly.  "I call you that because you remind me of my little brother.  The one who died.  The one I killed."

Blade quieted up for a moment. He had no idea Tithenor was calling him something that endearing the whole time. "I understand if you don't want to talk about it, so I won't ask." Blade said after a while. "But do know I'll do my best to be the best human little brother you can have. I swear it on my blades."

"You already are," Tithenor said simply.

"Well, I'm going to try even harder now." Blade said stubbornly. "And you can't stop me, bro."

"Bro?" Tithenor repeated, puzzled.

"It's a human slang term." Blade explained. "It's short for 'brother.' Although if you don't want me calling you that, let me know."

"Bro is just so..." He shook his head and waved a hand. "If you wish. The word is very much you"

Blade smiled a little. He took a knife out and hesitated. "Hey Tithenor? What's your last name?"

"Rimon. My name is Tithenor Ningaearon Rimon. Why do you ask?" Blue asked, watching the knife.

Blade nodded. What letter made that sound again? Oh, right. "Just curious." Blade said innocently. It was the engraved knife he was playing with. "I didn't think I knew was all."

Tithenor gave him a look. "The elves have much to teach you iin evasive speech, Honeg."

Blade grinned. "Oh? Who said I was truly trying."

"Oh good.  Otherwise I'd be worried for you," Tithenor said dryly.  "Will you please watch Mellon for me?  I will hunt for our meal today."