T’mar’s hand spasmed around hers.

Gently, tenderly, with a passion no less intense for her controlling focus, Fiona traced his face with the fingers of her other hand. She traced his brows, which boldly framed thoughtful, passionate eyes, his gentle cheeks, the firm line of his nose, the sweet curve of his lips.

She could see the child still in the man and railed that she’d never had a chance to meet T’mar when he was younger. She could see, mirrored in the crow’s feet around his eyes, the easy smile, the long days spent squinting against the brilliant sun, the pain of friends lost, wounds not healed.

“I love you.” The words were hers. And, in saying them, she realized it to be true. He was a hard taskmaster, a person steadfast in his convictions, sometimes angry, always thoughtful, often kind. But, as his heart beat, so did hers.

“Kindan?” T’mar’s question was barely above a whisper but the name was spoken clearly.

“I love him, too,” Fiona said. She gave him a sad smile. “You’ll have to make do with someone who loves more than one man.”

“’Course, you’re a Weyrwoman,” T’mar said, struggling to open his eyes. “’S your job.”

“Shh!” Fiona whispered, gently rubbing his brow. “Close your eyes, you’ve got to rest, regain your strength.”

“As you say, Weyrwoman.”

She moved back then, thinking to call Bekka and Seban, but his hand tightened around hers once more, begging.

“Rest, and I’ll stay with you a bit longer,” she told him softly. “You’ve had a nasty fall, near smashed your skull. You might have headaches or worse, so rest easy.”

Again, his hand tightened on hers in an unspoken plea.

With a sigh, Fiona relented, not too reluctantly, and resumed her examination of his tanned face, looking more lively now with just the slight animation that his consciousness provided it.

They remained that way until she heard the noise of Zirenth’s return and, not without misgivings, had Talenth send for Bekka and Seban.

Footsteps, a pair of them, approached from Zirenth’s weyr and when a hand reached gently for her shoulder, she reached up behind her and clasped it gratefully.

“He woke,” she said quietly, even as Kindan came into view at her side. “He spoke.”

“That’s good,” Kindan said, sounding weary.

“I’ve sent for Seban and Bekka,” she told them. She smiled at the fatigue in Kindan’s voice. “You two should get some rest, timing it is very exhausting.”

Lorana snorted humorously. “To say nothing of mating flights!”

The sound of another two sets of feet, one quicker and softer than the other, heralded the arrival of Seban and Bekka.

“He woke?” Seban asked as he joined them. Fiona nodded. Seban gestured to her politely and, reluctantly, she released T’mar’s hand and stood back, allowing Bekka and Kindan to examine him.