Bird of a Nest - Chapter 38: Chapter 38

Fetmar rested on a bench next to where Nel'os was pacing angrily, not knowing what to say to the man but not feeling right to leave him alone. Herymi was to the side, chatting to a guard who had followed them outside too. Nel'os kicked a rock into a fountain and frowned as it sunk.
"If you want to skip them, you have to throw them," Fetmar noted.
"I know," Nel'os shot back, his teeth gritted and voice tight. "I'm not stupid."
"You look more like you need to go to the training ring more than here," Fetmar observed, trying not to take offence from that. Nel'os has his fists clenched and his feathers puffed out in a threating manner. If this was back in the war, Fetmar would be trying to sneak past him to avoid dealing with a k'nairi in such a bad mood. If this was Dyn'ad, Fetmar knew he would be able to help deal with the bad mood by a spar. Nel'os was more on the fence, but he was a warrior like his mates.
"Can't." Nel'os gave no immediate explanation, but Nel'os did pick up the next stone. He skimmed it across the fountain and nodded determinedly. "I'm not." His shoulders slumped. "I'm not warrior enough to be allowed to go to burn off stream unless one of the others are there."
"Who made that rule?" Fetmar snorted. "You're one of the elite warriors in the war. You are warrior enough to need a punching bag when your anger is simmering."
"My anger is not simmering," The next stone broke a statue nearby rather than skimmed across the water. "Much," the word fell out of Nel'os reluctantly. "I'm the noble one. I shouldn't have to fall to my base instincts to deal with anger. I should be more," he waved his arms, his wings copying the motion as he struggled to find the word in human. Several k'nairi ones came, but Fetmar didn't understand them. "refined, I guess," he finally decided.
"So throwing stones at statues is more refined?" Fetmar lifted an eyebrow.
"Oh, piss off," Nel'os growled, his feather's flaring again and talons extending further than usual. "You don't get to tell me anything. You're a common grounder, what would you know about being refined?"
"Should I assume that in k'nairi is more insulting than the translated version?" Fetmar asked Herymi who had come up beside him. Herymi's hand was on his dagger. Apparently, Nel'os was starting to show signs of being a danger to them. Herymi gave a half shrug in confirmation. Fetmar pulled his leg up, resting his chin on his knee as he watched the Royal flit about the small clearing.
Nel'os scowled and threw another rock, this one skimming across the fountain and then into the cracked statue. The rock crumbled away, and the face became unrecognizable.
"Nice shot."
"Do you have to speak?" Nel'os demanded, "It's very annoying."
"I mean," Fetmar shrugged. "In general, talking is good for this kind of thing. My brothers and I tend to be rather vocal with what is displeasing us. Oira and Eyeri are quieter, but when they speak, it tends to be with knives. Pol'ar is still looking at Eyeri from time to time like he suspicious at where his anger the other day came from. What is Aw'endo like?"
"I don't know," Nel'os growled, but his wings lowered from their sharp angles, and he sat on the edge of the fountain. "He's quiet. He won't talk. He just does what he wants or thinks is best. I haven't taught him to be more subtle like a noble. Revenge is served best cold and all that malarky."
"Red hot is also pretty satisfying. Problem is, it tends to be disproportion to the offence. Who are you angry at?"
"That's a conversation for someone I trust, not you," Nel'os growled before pausing. "I appreciate that you are trying, Fetmar. But that's a tangled mess of stuff that has a lot of things that you have no understanding off, and I'm no mood to explain."
"In which case, we can have it," Tai'ray interrupted, striding into the clearing. He reached over to pat Herymi and Fetmar's shoulders. "Thank you for keeping Nel'os company. I'd like some privacy now." His voice was lower but gentle, clearly meaning them.
"Understood," Fetmar bowed slightly, for one moment looking too much like his brother from Tai'ray's chest.
"Don't," Tai'ray shook his head. "No bowing, we've been trying to get Eyeri to stop that. Please don't start too. You're family, not a servant."
"Wouldn't have guessed that," Fetmar said dryly before giving Nel'os a two-finger salute and strolling off. Herymi smiled at Tai'ray before jogging after him and leaving the two mates alone to talk.
"Need a punching bag yourself?" Herymi teased.
"Possibly. Either that or a strong drink. It's been a long week," Fetmar stretched, his shoulders clicking as things shifted. "Everyone's upset and stressed," he shook his head disapprovingly. Sadly there was no way to make it all disappear, and with Cai'ress here, things were likely going to get worse before they got better. "And if nothing else, I'm useful as a babysitter. The Royals are far too busy to watch over the kids."
"How do they feel about this?"
"Not good," Fetmar looked up and watched as Ang'as walked past, arm in arm with a female k'nairi who appeared to be lecturing him about something. He understood nothing of the words but the tone and the look of Ang'as' face was everything he needed to know. "Both had nightmares last night," he admitted, keeping his voice low. "I'm not used to those from Aw'endo."
Herymi grimaced, his eyes following the former consorts too. "Have they been to see him?"
"They went this morning. Aw'endo was grey. Eyeri was a little better, but then he started tracing the scars that didn't heal, and Aw'endo got annoyed at him," Fetmar's lips twitched. "Eyeri is a little macabre when it comes to scars, it seems."
The laughter that burst from Herymi was genuine and loud. He grinned at Fetmar. "The boy with scars, from a ship filled with warriors who most likely bragged about their scars, is macabre about them? I wonder why?"
"Shut up," Fetmar half-smiled. "Ryraso didn't look too good either which I think worried them even more. Aw'endo wanted to stay with him, but Matron Iss'vine had him out and to his studies. No breaktime for him sadly."
"Poor Aw'endo. He doesn't get any breaks. How about Eyeri?"
"Still with Ry. Your mates are the ones on duty as I'm sure you know. I figured it was safe to leave him there," Fetmar nudged Herymi with his elbow and gave the man a knowing look. "They looked very pleased. So, what happened last night?" Herymi flushed red and pushed Fetmar away as Fetmar laughed. "So much for being the more experienced one."
Herymi gave him a look of his own, but the redness of his cheeks ruined the look. "Yeah, yeah, tease all you want. When Yerir'o gets back, I'm sure you'll be just as bad," he shook his head.
"Come on, spill," Fetmar beamed at him, hooking an arm over Herymi's shoulder. "They finally starting to get you back for all your flirting?"
"I haven't been flirting that much."
"You've been flirting enough to get their loincloths in a twist. That stunt you pulled a few days ago in training proved that," Fetmar drawled, wriggling his hips in half a reminder of what Herymi had done. Luckily the babies had been in the library, and it had only been the offduty guards to witness the move Herymi had pulled on O'chetur. There had been plenty of wolf-whistling, the guards appreciating the view of Herymi staddling O'chetur. Herymi had looked positively feral with power. O'chetur had not been prepared at all.
"Fine. I've been flirting a little more than I planned," Herymi rolled his eyes. "They decided to get a little payback. It worked. What more do you want to know?"
"Umm," Fetmer hummed, and it was Herymi's turn to elbow him in the ribs. "Come on? Did you finally give in to Ran'mosy's coaxing to slip into bed with them a bit more intimately?" Herymi shifted awkwardly, and Fetmar's grin grew. "Aww."
"You say anything," Herymi warned, eyes narrowed and cheeks burning so hot Fetmar could feel it.
"I won't," Fetmar said from behind his grin of teeth.
"When Yerir'o gets back..."
"You'll be back in Tayagwe and unable to torment me," Fetmar laughed, releasing Herymi. His happy expression faded as he noticed there were no guards at the door to the consort wing, and the door was wide open. He sped up, turning to a run as he heard sobbing. What was happening now?
He slid into the room and found Matron Iss'vine bleeding on the floor, her hands currently being held by one of the guards. He was holding fabric torn from one of the many blankets to her palms, trying to stem bleeding. Tears were running down her face, and she was biting her lip. The other guard was holding Aw'endo, keeping his arms crossed over his body and locked between his legs, Aw'endo's back pressed to his chest. Aw'endo was weeping.
A knife was glittering with blood on the floor, trailing between Aw'endo and Iss'vine.
"Fuck," Fetmar breathed.
The room looked at him, and Aw'endo stopped his sobbing for a moment, instead he struggling harder against the guard pinning him, the crossed arms trying to reach for Fetmar. Fetmar moved towards him, kicking the knife towards Herymi. "Ryraso should have a kit in his room," he gestured over to Ryraso's room. Herymi jogged over, picking up the knife and pocketing it as he went.
Fetmar knelt down by Aw'endo and rested his hands on his knees, stopping the teenager from fighting. He looked up at the guard, a neutral look in his eyes but the man was following a protocol for this. The guard's eyes glanced down at Aw'endo's arms. Fetmer followed them and counted to ten in his head.
"Aw'endo," Fetmar shook his head as he put two and two together. Aw'endo let out a helpless sound, finger stretching trying to reach Fetmar. Fetmar rubbed the teenager's knee and looked back over at Iss'vine. "Thank you, Matron Iss'vine, for intervening."
"Of course," She nodded, her voice hoarse. "I had to otherwise..." She shook her head as fresh tears began to roll.
Fetmar knew that feeling. "Has someone gone to get you a healer?" he asked, not unaware his voice was growing gruffer as he fought to contain his emotions.
"My mate is getting someone now," the guard holding Aw'endo stated. His voice was fluid enough to suggest he knew the human tongue well, but there was little emotion to his words.
Fetmar nodded and stayed put. Herymi reappeared with Ryraso's medical bag, pausing by Fetmar long enough to pass some supplies before moving over to help Iss'vine. Fetmar calmly started to tend to Aw'endo's scratches, Aw'endo hissing as he did so. The guard shifted his grip enough to let Fetmar get to the wounds but didn't let Aw'endo go. Fetmar didn't blame him.