Logs:Of Friendship 2
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| RL Date: 2 January, 2007 |
| Who: R'hin, Tavrie |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| When: Day 1, Month 6, Turn 10 (Interval 10) |
| Your location's current time: 16:11 on day 1, month 6, Turn 60, of the Tenth Pass. It is a summer afternoon. You push the hides aside and step into the kitchen. Kitchen, High Reaches Weyr The kitchens of High Reaches Weyr are contemporary, spare and simple in design, free of clutter. The sleek surfaces are a hallmark of the current Pernese style - polished marble and granite, metalwork, and woods. The background colors of the kitchen are light and neutral, allowing for bold tone accessories to take center stage. The lighting and entryway opening treatments are low-profile and minimalist. The hearths have been fitted with modern equipment and simple, sleek metalwork to add an up-to-date touch to the heavily used areas. The polished granite counters are long and wide, allowing for ample work space. The woodwork is lightly stained, bringing out the natural hues in the grain. A simple cording, in the same bold color as the accessories, borders each cabinet door, accenting the room. Two large islands break up the kitchen into work areas: baking center, butchery, vegetable and side center, and the serving organization center. The floor is tiled with large marble squares, each section carrying a different, yet complimentary color to direct the flow of traffic. The entryway into the Living Cavern has been expanded to fit two doors - in and out - each marked with its own identifying color that matches the tiles just inside the doors, to keep collisions from occurring. The cavern itself has been expanded to include breakfast nooks, where residents can sit to eat, while leaving the main kitchen free from tables and the traffic that accompanies a busy Weyr. Contents: Tavrie Obvious exits: LIving Cavern Lower Caverns While some people enjoy the often chaotic mess that is the living cavern, there are some that prefer the bustling kitchen with its quiet hideaways. One of those enjoying the relative peace of the breakfast nooks is a young woman with slightly scraggly blonde hair and a plate piled high with food. Tarie is sitting in the corner of one of the booths, having a meal and thinking about something or other. The portion looks large, but her slender frame doesn't look like the sort to hold that against her. With a sigh of contentment, the gold weyrling nibbles on some bread, dipping it occasionally in some gravy that must be a leftover from whatever the meat had been. Sitting on her lap, a brown Firelizard with a shifty gaze and a lithe frame is waiting for scraps. Tavrie hands him a chunk of the bread absently, mind elsewhere while she eats. The weyrling is not the only one who seeks the solitude of a late lunch in the kitchens; R'hin strides in from the lower caverns, diverting immediately to see what's bubbling in the pots by the hearthside, before having a quick, low-voiced conversation with one of the cooks. Pleased, the Weyrleader heads for one of the nooks, pausing as he catches sight of one of the occupants already there. Pale gaze is sharp, thoughtful, and it's with purposeful strides that the bronzerider's path alters to take him to where Tavrie's seated. "Mind some company?" he enquires, with a gesture towards the seat - though whether or not she accepts, he's already sliding into the seat opposite. Tavrie looks up at as she's spoken to and fixes her eyes on R'hin. They stay there a moment, seeming to come back from her reverie slowly. Her face flickers to one of concern for a fraction of a second, eyebrows furrowing and lips pursing. Then, quick as lightening, she puts on a wide grin which serves to mask the rest of her thoughts in Cheshire contentment. "Good afternoon, sir," she says pleasantly enough, eyes as alive with mischief as ever. The little brown in her lap eyes the newcomer to their table and gives and then turns his muzzle up with disinterest. R'hin's eyes are likewise fixed on Tavrie, meeting her look squarely, hint of amusement in pale gaze, as lips curve upwards. "You looked like you were far away. Does Nabrimeth garner your attention so thoroughly, Tavrie, or is it... other matters which weigh heavily?" The bland words are laced with sly humor, attention flickering briefly towards the firelizard but showing little interest. Hands rest on the table top, fingers lacing together. None of the expected pleasantries of asking after her, or her lifemate seem imminent. Tavrie rolls her shoulders casually, shrugging off his query. "I've always been a daydreamer," she comments. "Nabrimeth is chatty, but she lets me eat in peace. So, when my mind is my own, I let go for a while and let it wander," is all she has to say for herself. Tavrie tips her head to the side and looks at him with a slight lift of a brow. If he's looking for more information, she doesn't seem ready to loosen her tongue. "Fair skies of late," she notes rather drolly, taking another piece of bread and dipping it in the herdbeast gravy. "Ah. We are to talk of the weather, then? How fascinating," R'hin returns, just as drolly. He sweeps hands off the table as one of the kitchen workers approaches with a bob of head, putting down a plate of chowder and bread, and a mug of redfruit juice. Murmuring thanks, the Weyrleader tears the bread into chunks, placing them into the chowder to soak. He's silent throughout, then finally: "There are far more interesting topics to speak of, my dear goldrider. Perhaps, a brownrider, even?" Bland, he keeps attention on his food, though the slight glimmer of eyes can be seen through downcast eyelashes. Tavrie simply grins at him again across the table, leaning on one elbow and favoring him with a coy wrinkle of her nose. "A brownrider? Hrm, I know a few of those now," she murmurs as if thinking this over carefully. "Is there any particular brownrider that you'd like to talk about?" she muses, wafting her bread holding hand airily in an attempt to play sophisticated. "Ah. So we're going to play pretend, are we?" There's a thread of something sharper to R'hin's tone, though his expression remains the same as he reaches for his mug of juice, leaning back with a purse of lips. "You are not that dense by half, weyrling, and you do yourself a disfavor to act as if you are." It is a compliment of sorts, albeit a backhanded one. Tavrie shakes her head and looks more serious, lowering her head and sighing faintly. "I do myself as much diservice as you do yourself when you don't ask directly, sir. If you want to ask me something and have me not play games, I would appreciate it if you asked me in a straightforward manner. You see, I'm not fond of giving in to someone that plays that way, it makes me feel cheap or loose-tongued," she tells him honestly, face kind but firm. "Perhaps you'd not considered this. I have several people a day asking me things without asking me. And how am I supposed to know how they'll use the information they receive?" Tavrie continues on. "Also, it proves a little unfair to me when you seek to pull out bits of information without offering any, considering it is the very brownrider you want me to discuss that spends much time at -your- side," she adds. Tavrie looks at him calmly, smiling in a sweet and genuine manner to emphasize the honestly and lack of bite to her words. A twitch of brows perhaps betrays surprise, a low-throated chuckle soon following from the Weyrleader. "You asked me nothing," R'hin points out, once mirth has faded. "And since you ask for honesty, I shall give it to you, weyrling. M'wen is very important to me. I inquire out of concern for -him-. Personally, it matters little to me whether you toy with him or have genuine feelings, so long as you don't hurt him." His voice is cool, informing her and nothing more, sopping up some of the chowder with the bread as he glances up, drolly, "I'd imagine you'll inform him of my words, and he'll no doubt be displeased. But, perhaps unfortunately for him, he is amongst the very small handful of people I trust and respect. And in the... spirit... of honesty, it's only fair you know it." "You didn't really ask me anything either," she replies, though her voice lacks spirit and her gaze has been lowered. Tavrie abandons eating, simply sitting there at the table. "I understand your concern," she manages after a moment, voice soft and cracked like eggs having been rocked about in a basket too roughly. "He's the best friend I have here. For a time, the only real adult friend I had when not working," she continues. "The change in my feelings has had plenty of people feeling unfavorably toward me. It's been the only thing that keeps making it hard for me to face him or just let go and let whatever happens, happen. I have been put in my place and I know it well," she continues. "My duty is to Nabrimeth, the weyr, to my friends, and then finally to my heart," Tavrie lists, eyes still locked on her plate with thick lashes hiding their colored depths. "I have no intention of telling him what you said. What need is there? I keep words like that in my own heart. Yours, I'daur's and whoever else approaches me," she finishes without making to look at him again. R'hin's concentrating on his food for a bit, glancing over at Tavrie at her words but not immediately responding. "Unfavorably?" he echoes, bemused. "Not that- concerned," he corrects, adroitly. At the weyrling's latter words, he reaches for his napkin, wiping fingers on it as he settles gaze on her. "What need? Only that he is your... best friend. Everyone needs someone to confide in, or go insane. M'wen, is that person for me. And you, I rather suspect, are that person, for him." There's something in his tone, very faintly audible, that sounds suspiciously like jealousy. Tavrie shrugs her shoulders gloomily at R'hin, still unwilling to look at him again. "There is a difference between confiding, gossiping and warmongering. I have little use for the latter two and -- I've no intention of mentioning something to M'wen that would make him angry with you. Though, he favors you highly enough that I doubt it would. After his next comment, she deems to raise her gaze, looking across at R'hin. "I didn't set out to beI just listened and joined him when he needed a friend. Are you afraid he'll neglect your friendship in favor of me?" she asks, eyes seeming to ripple in a watery manner. "No," R'hin says, with absolute confidence. "That would never happen. He understands the consequences. -My- worry, is that he will lean on you, and you will fail him. Though I wish, very much, for you to prove me wrong in that regard, for he will need someone strong, indeed." His expression is even, though there is perhaps a slight clenching of jaw visible, pale eyes studying the gold weyrling before him. Tavrie says "Oh," she responds softly. "I didn't know relationships were supposed to be like that. Leaning solely on one person. I guess I wouldn't know, since I've never had one before. But I understand now -- well, I understand how you see me," she says softly and rises, looking away from him and gathering up her half-finished plate. The Firelizard is displaced as she moves, skidding down her lap and clawing his way onto the seat instead, look sour. She stands there a moment, seeming unsure of what to do or what she is allowed to do, head turned away from him. "Good afternoon, sir," she tells R'hin politely, meaning to head in the direction of the dirty dishes in an attempt to escape ahurtful situation." R'hin's head tips down, slightly, furrow of brows faint and smoothed away quickly. "That is the very nature of relationships, Tavrie. Do you not lean on Nabrimeth for comfort, for friendship, for help? And vice versa?" Her soft words as she rises earns a guarded look, and a faint, almost inaudible exhale of breath from the Weyrleader. "Do you?" he questions, with tip of head, then: "I really hope you do," he adds, briefly, attention shifting back towards his meal. It could probably be taken as tacit dismissal. "I've always thought that relationships were just a stronger form of friendship. And to me, part of being a friend means knowing how hard to lean on someone else so that you don't do them harm. I don't mind when people lean on me. I don't actively seek it out, but I do my best to be there for me friends, even if they don't know when they've reached the limit," she murmurs softly. "Maybe I'm wrong. Hopefully," she says and then hurries off to scrape her plate off into a bin, appetite gone. Cool, pale gaze settles on the weyrling, a bland sort of smile accompanying it. "If only it was as straightforward as all that," R'hin says quietly, audible enough as Tavrie moves away. Tavrie strides into the living cavern. Tavrie has left. |
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