Logs:Bigger
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| RL Date: 10 June, 2011 |
| Who: Lorna, Madilla |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Madilla meets - and makes a deal with - Lorna. |
| Where: Kitchen, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 19, Month 13, Turn 25 (Interval 10) |
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| It's a cold and foggy winter's afternoon, not that you'd really know it this far into the caverns, where the natural temperature of the cave systems not to mention the hearths and stoves keep things relatively toasty. Lunch has mostly been cleared up, leaving something of a lull before dinner preparations really need to begin. Of course, there are always those taking oddly timed meals, and one of those people, today, is Madilla. The dark-haired healer is settled in at one of the little alcoves, where in between bites of her stew she's working on sewing together scraps of multi-coloured fabric into patches. It's a slow process, but that doesn't seem to worry her: she's smiling as she works. Lorna is stooped over one of the many hearths scattered around the kitchens. Hers contains a large pot full of a bubbling something-or-other, which she is cautiously sniffing at. The corners of her mouth droop down in a slight frown before she plucks down a canister of herbs from a shelf cut into the wall above. After a quick sprinkling, she sets the small jar back in its rightful place and takes a little taste test. Apparently that did the trick, as Lorna plunks the pot's lid back on. Leaving it to simmer, she slides back into her other duties--checking in on folks. Madilla happens to be at a table close to Lorna's cooking, and so she's her first stop. "Can I get you anything else, miss? Everything taste alright?" She glances at Madilla's work and adds meekly, "I hope I'm not interrupting." For all that Madilla's eyes shoot up, visibly surprised, at the sound of Lorna's question, the healer certainly doesn't seem to be concerned by it. She leans back in her chair, stretching out muscles that have probably spent too much time supporting her forward lean, and shakes her head. "Oh, no: no, it's no interruption." Madilla's relatively well known in the kitchens: a quiet woman, who often eats meals at strange times, and always has a cheerful smile for the staff. "Everything tastes lovely, thank you. It's just the right weather for this kind of stew." She pauses for a beat, and then adds, smiling, "Madilla. Please." The jumpy cook jolts backwards in response to Madilla's surprise, though her feet remain planted. Lorna lets herself smile when it turns out everything is fine and dandy, and she responds with little hesitation. "Ah, yes. I went out for a breath of fresh air during my break, only it turned out there was none to be had thanks to all that thick fog. It's not often the kitchens have clearer air than outdoors, that's for sure. We've already got some more stews simmering for dinner to accommodate." Such as the one she just fixed up. If it weren't for the fact that Madilla's face is slightly familiar thanks to her odd meal hours, Lorna might not offer her hand up for a shake; but she does somewhat recognize the healer, and thus she sticks out her calloused hand. "Lorna." She glances around the caverns, which are a touch more crowded than usual thanks to people being driven indoors by the weather. "Um. I don't suppose I could take a seat at your table? Been on my feet too long. I won't disturb your work." Madilla's grip, as she takes Lorna's hand, is soft rather than firm, but she matches it with a genuine smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you properly, Lorna. I'm sure I've seen you around. Mm; it was a bit of a trial getting across from the Craft Complex this morning, that's for sure. My daughter thought it was /fantastic/, though. Toddlers: what can you do?" Her head tips firmly towards the seat across from her as she adds, withdrawing her hand now so that she can reach for her needle again, "You certainly could. I'd welcome the company, to be honest. With the illness... we healers haven't had much time to sit and chat for a while. It would make for a nice change." Lorna's own handshake is a weak one; she more or less lets her hand slip back out without any grip. "My hands are rough," she offers up by way of explanation. She eases into the chair, accidentally catching on the leg a bit as she goes. She pays her near trip little mind and assumes a slightly slouched position, her hands resting on the table. She takes Madilla's question a bit too literally: "Ah, some of my sisters have some younger children. But I have none of my own, so I'm not sure what you can do with them." When she's reminded of the recent illness, she unconsciously moves her hands back and away from Madilla. "I try my best not to get sick, since I work with everyone's food." She carefully surveys Madilla's face, observing, "But you look very healthy. That's good." Her face tightens and she adds, "I don't think I could handle the stress of all that." Her brown eyes widen and focus on her companion's knot. "It's very admirable. How...how did you get into it?" Though Lorna pays little attention to that near trip, Madilla's hands reach out almost instinctively: just in case. They fall back again a moment later, at least, again returning to her handiwork though she seems to be able to sew while keeping an easy glance focused on the cook. Her smile turns more rueful at Lorna's reaction to the illness, and it's this subject that she fastens on to to reply. "It's important, when you work with food; yes, of course. It's all right: I'm not sick, and I don't think I will get sick. It was mostly just-- the islanders, I think. They were just more suspectable." Cheeks turning pink, she adds, "My Uncle decided to send me to the Hall when I was thirteen. I was supposed to return home and be of assistance, but... It just didn't work out that way." There's a hint of regret in her expression, though by the end, she's smiling again, at least. The cook nods vaguely at the mention of the islanders. "Yes, that makes sense. I'm glad they are improving. It must be...difficult." She offers up nothing more specific, though her forehead shows a few worried wrinkles. When Madilla mentions her crafter training, Lorna's already large eyes manage to get just a little bigger. "Your /Uncle/ sent you?" She leans back in her chair, clearly awed. "That's...wonderful." And surprising, apparently. With barely a pause, she blurts out: "What was the Hall like?" Her hastiness has Lorna chewing on her chapped lower lip. "I'm sorry--I'm prying. It's just very interesting." Madilla's cheeks turn pink at the enthusiasm Lorna shows; her gaze ducks hastily towards her work, as though by doing so, she'll be able to take a moment to compose herself. "No, you're not prying," she assures the other woman, when, a few moments later, she's able to smile at her again. "He had to be convinced, my uncle. A healer on riding recommended it, but it was turns before he was willing to consider it. And now..." She chews on her lower lip before she starts talking again; her expression is rueful. "I haven't seen them in turns. I'm afraid they consider me a bad influence." Lorna pushes her chair back when she notices Madilla's blush, causing it to squeak against the floor. She doesn't actually get up to go, though; perhaps she's just offering up some physical space in lieu of emotional space. Despite moving her seat back, she slouches forward, eager to hear. She gently bobs her head at the explanation and makes a quiet mm-hmm noise when Madilla mentions her uncle's hesitation. The cook winces, however, at her final remark. "I'm sorry to hear that." Her expression darkens and her eyebrows shoot down. "But a bad influence? How could they think that? Healing is just about the most honourable craft. And..." She stops for a few seconds and taps her fingertips nervously against the table. "And it would be nice for them to meet your child." Her fingertapping abruptly stops and she glances around the room before finishing, "But I would be the first to admit that family can be...difficult." After taking a deep breath, then letting it go, Madilla admits, "So am I. It-- it's difficult to explain. My family are very conservative. I ought to have been married at sixteen, a mother of several by now. When I went to the Hall, I saw a new world. When I ended up here..." She manages a smile, rueful, but not unhappy: it gets aimed directly at the other woman. "I wish they could meet Lilabet, too. They wouldn't approve of how I got her, though, I'm afraid, and that just makes everything more complicated." All of this has resulted in her abandoning her food, but there isn't much left anyway. "And here I am, rambling on and on. I didn't answer your question about the Hall, and I know nothing about your family. What's so difficult about yours?" Lorna's right arm shoots out, as if she's about to grab hold of Madilla's hand. But she stops herself in time, and instead her hand awkwardly rests upright on the table, her palm facing the healer. Her strange movements do not stem her unusually excited babbling: "Yes, yes! I am not sure how I have lasted 23 Turns without having a child, what with my family breathing down my neck." Her lips purse and wiggle uncertainly before she decides to continue. "They're difficult in much the same way as yours. Traditional. We're originally from Misty Hold, you see." Their move to the Weyr is not explained. "Ah, but, cooking works for me. I probably would not have done too well at a Hall anyway." Finally, Lorna remembers that her wrist is strangely resting on the table and she yanks it back. "I mean, I'm traditionally minded too, I suppose. Nothing wrong with a well-behaved gentleman or a proper lady." "Misty," repeats Madilla, briefly thoughtful. "That's in the Tillek region, isn't it?" Her expression is full of understanding, as though she can imagine entirely the pressures involved in being part of Lorna's family. "You're quite right: there isn't. I suppose, over time, I've relaxed a little in some ways, but... I don't think there's anything wrong with a lot of the main messages of my childhood. You like cooking, then? You like the weyr?" Her questions appear to stem from genuine curiosity: her eyebrows raise in interest. As she talks, she's sewing again, patching together the scraps of fabric with the ease of experience. "Yes, that's where it is!" A smile breaks over Lorna's face. "Not everyone has heard of Misty. We're a bit under Tillek's shadow." That 'we' might be a bit outdated, considering that hasn't been her place of residence for quite some time. "Yes...it's a matter of finding that balance." Her cheeks puff out as she lets out a breath of air. "Not an easy task. But cooking is nice. Keeps my family happy--they think I spend my days baking delicate pastries. Much more about dealing with burning hot metal and knives, let me tell you." She grins, showing her teeth. "Which is what I like." The matter of the Weyr has her thinking more carefully. "Yes, I do like it. But everything still feels different. How does it compare to a Hall?" Madilla turns over the patch she's working on, examining the edges and the hems before she sets it down and picks up another few bits of fabric. "I try and keep up to date on the bigger minor holds," explains the healer, with a grin. "Or - at least know their names. It gets embarrassing, sometimes, otherwise. Families are funny like that, aren't they? I think mine wanted to think of me making medicines and wiping brows, but not... not anything /bloody/." Which doesn't seem to bother her, though her cheeks are faintly pink all over again. She really /does/ seem to blush a lot. "It's different from the Hall, too. Louder. More open. It's home now, though. I've been here eight turns. Eight and a half." Lorna smiles gently and even lets out a light chuckle. "Exactly. As long as they can just /pretend/ you're doing nothing they don't like, they're alright. It's when something stares them in the face that the trouble begins. I'm not sure I approve of such sweeping of things under the rug, but eh." As for Madilla's knowledge of geography, she notes, with a touch of admiration, "I bet knowing all the names of places is great for your bedside manner. Chatting with folks about their home must distract them from whatever else is happening to them." She finally tucks her chair back into its original position, closer to the table. "Been almost a decade for me now. Came when I was 15, and I'm about 23 now. Getting used to dragons was probably the biggest change. And...I'm not sure how to phrase it. Everything that happens here--it all seems bigger. We had our fair share of politics and happenings at Misty, but they were all so...contained." There's something guilty in Madilla's expression as she admits, "I wish there wasn't need for that kind of subterfuge. I'd rather be honest. I just don't like upsetting people." It clearly bothers her that she /has/ upset people, even if she's doing a good job of brushing it off with the return of her smile. "It helps. I like to make people feel comfortable; I can't imagine being able to do my job properly without it. I think you and I must be about the same age, then. I was also fifteen. It... the dragons still impress me. The bigness, too. I do understand that. I feel like I'm in the middle of everything. Perhaps it would be the same at one of the major holds, I don't know. But it's hard not to feel like you're in the middle of everything." It's obvious that Lorna too considers these issues more serious than her tone indicates. She may be smiling, but there is a touch of weariness behind it, and a slight hint of wrinkles next to her eyes suggests some tenseness. Her openness is likely explained by the many similarities between the two young women; indeed, the cook happily notes, "It's nice to meet someone who understands. I think many of the born and bred folk take it for granted that Weyrs are the centre of Pern and so they're used to it." Possibly not wanting to dwell too much on such serious topics, Lorna abruptly changes the subject. "Say, I'm not sure if it's appropriate to ask you for advice on your off time, but..." She rubs her hands together before gesturing them towards Madilla. "The kitchens are not friendly to my skin. Is there anything I can do about it? I get many nicks from knives and the like." "Isn't it?" Madilla, too, seems pleased. "It's hard to imagine weyrfolk heading out into the rest of Pern, I think. I can't imagine many of them being comfortable in a Hold." Leaving behind that topic as the cook does, the healer seems pleased to have been asked that question, her gaze automatically sliding towards Lorna's hands, an idle inspection. "I don't mind at all, truly. I don't believe a healer is ever entirely off duty. And as it happens, I do make a cream that might be of use. It's really designed to soften the skin and keep it from drying out, but I think it would work to protect it, too. I use it myself: we end up washing our hands so often. Like you would, I suppose. I could bring some over-- or just drop in to the infirmary." Lorna's hands drop down, not to avoid further inspection, but rather to express stunned gratitude. "Really? That sounds perfect--and so easy!" Maybe this speaking up business isn't so bad. "While you might never be off duty, you should not work for nothing. What can I offer in return?" Her slouching eases up a bit as she leans back in her chair, thinking. She looks around the kitchens, as if seeking inspiration from its walls. And, in fact, her technique works: "I don't have too much power as a cook, but perhaps I could sway the menu to your liking for a few days? Unless you would prefer outright payment to bartering, of course. I could help make it, too, if it's easy to learn the recipe." A frown flashes across her face. "Um. If it's not a secret, that is." The healer grins, securing her needle in her fabric so that she can lean back and stretch, flexing fingers idly as she answers. "Payment is not necessary, truly. The Hall pays me for my services, and I'm more than happy to oblige. Although... Lily, my little girl? She's obsessed with those little sugar cookies, the ones with jam in them. Perhaps you could arrange for there to be some at the Turnover celebrations?" Setting her hands down upon the table, she adds, "I'd be happy to teach you. It's really quite simple." "Oh, certainly!" Lorna continues to relax back in her chair, at ease. "Shouldn't be too hard to arrange that. I must say, making sweets around this time of year is rather satisfying, even though I'm in the job for the rougher stuff. Something about tasty treats helps with the coldness of winter, I find." She idly cracks her knuckles as she talks, not paying much attention to her hands. She suddenly stops, exclaiming, "Oh! Is that bad for them? I never thought about it. But yes, I would love to learn how to make it. You let me know when you're free for it--you must be so busy, and I would hate to take you away from your real duties. Especially with all the recent happenings." Well pleased, Madilla beams. "Lily will be thrilled. Thank you. I think you're right. I'm always more in the mood for sweet things in winter, too, for that matter." A shake of her head suggests that no, she doesn't think it's terribly bad for them, though she doesn't say it out loud. "I'm sure you're just as busy," she says, firmly. "Particularly at this time of turn. How about... after dinner, the day after tomorrow? I can leave Lily with her carer after I finish my infirmary shift. If that suits?" The word 'dinner' seems to remind Lorna that she is, in fact, in her place of work. She slowly gets to her feet as she confirms, "Right, that should work. I'm not on clean up duty then, so I'll be free right after the dinner rush." The cook glances around the kitchen, surveying what all needs to be done. It's still quiet, but there are a few abandoned dishes here and there, as well as her own simmering stew that could do with a check. "For now, my break is about over. I should get back to tending to everything before things start to heat up." After a polite tilt of her head, Lorna hops to. Madilla, still pleased, nods enthusiastically. "I'll see you then, in that case," she confirms. "Have a nice afternoon." The healer, too, ought to be moving on: she does so reluctantly, packing up her sewing carefully before she makes her way back towards the inner caverns. |
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