No Shortage of Trauma Here

Writers: Devin, Estelle
Date Posted: 28th June 2025

Characters: Gilbek, Tr'vel
Description: Tr'vel comforts Gilbek after he wakes from a nightmare
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 5, day 15 of Turn 12

Tr'vel

The prisoner woke to pitch darkness, stifling heat and the stench of
unwashed bodies and fear. He had no memory of where he was, but he felt
rough stone beneath him. How long had he been here? His mouth was dry,
and when he touched his tongue to his lip he tasted dried blood.

When he tried to sit up, his bruised body protested, and all he could do
was stretch out a hand blindly in the dark. He felt his back. It was
sore, but the skin was smooth, unmarked.

Outside, there was muffled laughter, and the rattle of a key in the
lock. Suddenly, the door burst open, and a spear of bright sunlight
entered the tiny cell. As he blinked, dazzled, the guards shoved their
way in and grabbed his arms, hauling him up and dragging him out across
the barracks training ground towards the old quarry, chains rattling in
the dust.

He sensed the crowd there rather than saw them, silent in anticipation.
He didn't want to look up. But he couldn't stop himself, and when he
raised his head and shook the matted hair from his eyes, he saw it, in
the centre of the circle where the fights had taken place. A metal frame.

***

Gil cried out and sat bolt upright, struggling free of the tangled
sheets. His heart pounded uncontrollably and all his senses were alert.
His throat felt raw and he was soaked in sweat, as if he'd been running
from something dreadful at his back. It was dark again, but in his
terror he had no idea where he was.

"Hey, hey!" Tr'vel, still half-asleep, sat up and put a hand on Gil's
arm. "It's okay."

Still caught up in the dream, Gil flinched. "No - no, please..." Despite
the warm night, he began to shiver.

More awake now, Tr'vel pulled his hand back. "Gil, it's me, Tr'vel.
You're at Dolphin Cove. You're safe. Look at me, sweetheart," he said in
a soft, soothing voice.

Something in the sound of his voice calmed Gil, and his breathing began
to slow as the last shreds of the dream dissipated. He turned, so that
in the dim moonlight filtering in from the outer weyr, he could make out
the familiar lines of the other man's face. When he spoke, he sounded
lost and uncertain, not at all his usual self. "Tr'vel?"

"Yes, Gil." Tr'vel held out his hand, waiting to see if the man was
willing to be touched. "You're at the Weyr, with me."

"The Weyr?" He took a slow, deep breath, then another, and shifted back,
leaning into the protective embrace of Tr'vel's arms. He was safe, not
there any more. The fear drained away, and was replaced by
embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I woke you...again."

Tr'vel wrapped his arms around him, firm but not tight, and kissed Gil's
brow. It was far from the first time he'd comforted a lover with vivid
nightmares. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I thought I was back there. White Hollow. Before they..." When he spoke
again there was an edge of frustration in his voice. "I just want to put
it behind me and go on with my life, but the dreams keep coming. I wish
I knew how to stop them."

"Sometimes, when we finally feel safe, the nightmares and the worries
get worse for a little while," Tr'vel said gently. "Have you thought
about seeing a mindhealer?"

Gil shook his head. White Hollow was a poisoned wound he had no desire
to re-open. He was reluctant even to talk to Tr'vel about it, let alone
a stranger. "I'd rather not. Perhaps I should sleep on the couch, so I
don't disturb you...until they stop."

"I'd rather be there for you." Tr'vel ran a soothing hand down Gil's
arm. "It's not the first time I've had a lover with nightmares. I've had
some bad nights myself." After the earthquake that destroyed Thayan
Peak, and in that first terrible Turn of Threadfall.

"About Thread?" Gil thought of Eboroth's scarred eye, and how Tr'vel had
spoken about the early days of the Pass. What it must be like to see
close up, he couldn't imagine. He rested his head on Tr'vel's shoulder,
his cheek against his skin.

"Thread, and my first home collapsing. There's no shortage of trauma
here." Tr'vel closed his eyes, enjoying the solid weight of Gil in his
arms. "Shards it feels nice to hold you."

"It's nice to be held." He breathed out slowly, listening to the night
sounds of the Weyr, the faint rustle of dragon hide on stone from
Eboroth's couch and the distant rush and hiss of waves against the
shore. He was safe, encircled by Tr'vel's embrace, warm and protective.
Turning his head, his lips brushed the line of the dragonrider's jaw.
"Thank you...for being there."

"Thank you for sharing my bed. It's been a while since I had someone . .
. well, someone special."

Gil stilled. "Me, too." Not since that long-ago night when the Harper
Hall had burned, when he'd been parted from his wife. A warm glow slowly
suffused him, more precious now when he'd never thought he would feel
that way again.

He glanced up, his voice light and teasing. "So...I'm not just a
dragonrider's passing dalliance?"

"Would I have asked to court you if you were?" Tr'vel's tone was just as
teasing.

"They do tell stories. Dragonriders seducing holders with their silver
tongues..."

"Is that how I got you into bed? My silver tongue?" One of Tr'vel's
hands slid lower and he bent to kiss Gil.

"Mmm, yes. Your tongue." He closed his eyes, his lips parting. "Among
your many other attractive qualities."

"Since we're awake . . ." Tr'vel kissed along his jaw and down to his
neck. "How about we put the time to good use?" And when they fell asleep
again, hopefully Gil's dreams would be free of nightmares.

"I don't know if I'll be able to sleep again, otherwise..." Gil's breath
caught as Tr'vel's wandering hand caressed a sensitive place. "Oh - yes.
Now I'm very much awake." The dream was, for the moment, forgotten.

Last updated on the July 7th 2025

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No Shortage of Trauma Here