Logs:Sons and Daughters
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| RL Date: 2 August, 2014 |
| Who: Madilla, Milani |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Two old friends talk about their children. |
| Where: Resident Common Room, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 4, Month 6, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Azaylia/Mentions, Dilan/Mentions, Emilly/Mentions, Iolene/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, K'ndro/Mentions, Lilabet/Mentions, Milandra/Mentions, Nikalas/Mentions, Raija/Mentions, Satiet/Mentions, Tiriana/Mentions |
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| Resident Common Room, High Reaches Weyr Just off of the main passageway lies the small cavern that forms the hub of the residents' quarters, kept immaculately clean by the headwoman's staff and warmed in cold weather by a stone hearth to the left and well back from the entrance. Comfortable chairs and a plush fur arrayed before the hearth make an inviting spot to curl up with a book or handicraft, or just to sit and chat. Beyond, additional chairs stand in clusters throughout the room, some upholstered with age-softened hide, some plain wood. At the widest point of the cavern, a round table gleams with polish, though its surface is nicked and scarred from Turns of use. Beyond the table, the very back of the cavern often lies in shadow unless the glowbaskets there are unlidded to cast cozy pools of light. The commingled scents of klah, smoke and polish permeate the air along with the sweetness of rosemary and lavender. Tapestries hang across the entrances to dormitories and more private quarters as well as the exit to the outer hall, colorful protections from drafts. At the end of the working day, there's usually an uptick in the number of people in the common room, except that the weather's so lovely today the space is more deserted than usual. Milani occupies a chair at the age-scarred round table, seemingly occupied with lingering work, except that anyone paying attention might note that instead of tallying figures, the beads on her abacus are merely being clicked back and forth idly with no rhyme or reason and her typically busy pencil makes a tapped counterpoint on the surface of whatever sheets of paper are securely fastened to her clipboard. Now and then weyrfolk drift through, either on their way to quarters coming off of shifts or moving outward presumably to enjoy the sunshine in the Bowl and a young couple sit on the floor near-ish the hearth area playing with their small child and a set of blocks. Between having her official quarters across the bowl in the craft complex, an office in the infirmary, and having a boyfriend with a weyr of his own, Madilla doesn't spend a lot of time in the common room, these days; today is clearly an exception. Still wearing her apron - clean, at least - and with her hair pinned up the way it so often is for work, the weyrhealer meanders rather than walks, nose buried in what must be a letter. Amazingly, she manages to dodge a few people on her way through; equally amazingly, she makes it as far as the chairs without glancing up, reaching with one hand to pull one of them out from the table. Footsteps alert Milani to someone's approach and she's just looking up when Madilla's hand falls to the back of her chair. "Sorry, I've got this one, Madilla," she says laughingly, "but you're welcome to sit next to me!" the assistant headwoman concludes and gives her abacus a little shove out of the way. Madilla lets out a muted yelp, finally drawing her attention away from her letter to stare - stare - at Milani; than, abruptly, she begins to laugh. "I'm sorry, Milani," she says, as she takes a few steps further to take the next chair. "I was--" She gives a glance down to her letter, then folds it, setting it down upon the table as she sinks into her seat. "Distracted, clearly. How are you, Milani?" "Must be a fascinating read," Milani continues in lighthearted fashion, teasing the healer a little. "Good news?" she inquires mildly. "As for me, I'm well, if having a little bit of trouble focusing at the moment." A little tap to the paperwork before her. "I think I'd rather be outside taking a walk. I was just contemplating setting this aside until later." "It's far too beautiful out there to be stuck indoors," agrees Madilla, sounding just short of wistful, though her mood is too positive - eyes flitting back towards that letter, then up again to her friend - for it to linger. "But someone has to take the evening shift. I just slipped out for my break, and to reread Lilabet's letter." Her fingers drop to rest upon the pages. "Exactly, it's lovely and the urge to be irresponsible is strong," Milani confesses with a low chuckle. Her nose crinkles a little in sympathy about that evening shift. "So you're in for the duration." Her expression brightens though at mention of the provenance of the letter. "Oh how is she?" "I can't complain too much; Raija and I had a good long walk, earlier in the day," admits Madilla. "Anyway; it must be about time for you to put the work away for the day, surely. Life's too short to spend it all working." The healer picks up her letter, turning it over in her hands. "She's well. I think she's finally completely settled in. She doesn't write as much as she used to - too busy, I think. I can't blame her." "That sounds nice, always good to catch the kids for a little bit, hm? I need to sit Milandra down and have a good talk with her ... soon." Another tap at that hide and Milani laughs. "Ye-es, it's about that time, just might be better off if I finish it today and have that much less on for tomorrow." The assistant headwoman props her chin up on one hand, listening. "Mm. Settled in and busy ... but happily busy?" Madilla's expression brightens at mention of Milandra; "How is she? Independent as ever, I'm sure." She acknowledges Milani's explanation with an accepting nod, the corners of her mouth twisting upwards ever so slightly. "I understand that. The days get pretty busy, sometimes. Lily's-- happily busy, yes. This is what she's always wanted, and I'm relieved that it lives up to what she imagined. She was here for the hatching, and even then... she's already grown up so much." "/Very/," Milani agrees of Milandra these days. "And strong-willed, I don't get much say in what she does or doesn't do anymore. Remind you of anyone?" she jokes a bit. "I'm glad Lilabet's adjusting well ... it goes fast doesn't it? Time?" Madilla's mouth curves into a broader smile. "She's certainly your daughter," she agrees, with a laugh. "I suppose it will be the same with Lilabet. Even her name: she won't answer to Lily at all anymore. She's her own person, now; she's not my responsibility. It's hard." Even so, she's obviously so, so proud of her daughter. "It does. I remember when Milandra was born. I remember when you and I first met, and that's longer ago still. Increasingly, I remember being an apprentice back at the hall, and it's hard to reconcile my own daughter existing in the same space - even if it's a different craft. But." She shrugs, smiling. "That's how it goes." "So she doesn't care for nicknames?" Milani inquires curiously. "Oh I hear you. I still /feel/ responsible, even with Andi trying to take on making all of her own decisions. I miss having a cuddly little one, sometimes ... but not diapers. Never diapers!" Laughter is followed by a quiet sigh. "We've all grown and changed," the assistant headwoman replies more thoughtfully. "I'm sure Lilabet will do you proud. She's always been a good girl." "She thinks... I don't even know what she thinks. That it makes her sound older? She's in such a hurry, sometimes." Madilla's tone is fond, but there's a note in there that suggests she doesn't wholly understand her daughter. "Raija's nearly done with diapers, at last. I'll be glad, though... sometimes I do still think about another one. It would be nice to... with H'kon." But that's an old and complicated situation; Madilla shakes her head as if to dismiss it altogether. "She has been. She is. I'm proud of her. And Dee, too." "Well ... I can understand that," Milani notes sympathetically, "there was a time when I desperately wanted to seem or even /be/ older than I was." A touch of self-deprecating rue touches the corners of her mouth. Mention of babies brings an echo of old sadness to Milani's face though. "I -- wish sometimes, I'd tried for another. I suppose it's not too late, still, but ..." she gives a little shake of her head and beams at Madilla instead. "I hope she keeps on doing well and stays happy. I'd hate to be stuck doing something I didn't love for the rest of my life." "I was only ever in a hurry to be able to walk the tables and have babies," says Madilla, with a wry laugh. "I'd forgotten how desperate I felt. I suppose, in a way, it's something of the same. I..." She breaks off from her reply, considering Milani for a moment - two, even - before she shakes her head, and goes back to smiling. "I can't imagine it. I'm so... glad that things worked out the way they did for me. I can't imagine not being a healer." "For me ... it was all about a guy and not wanting to seem like a kid to him," Milani says humorously and casts Madilla a little wink. "I wasn't even thinking about babies at the time." She shifts, picking up her pencil again and idly threading it through her fingers. "I miss the bigger knot sometimes, but it's been good to be back on the headwoman's staff for the past few turns. Sort of like coming full circle. I get to do the work I love without the heavier responsibility." Once upon a time, Madilla would have blushed; now, she laughs, head shaking. "I'm sure babies were the last thing on your mind." That may bring back another memory, but aside from a distant flicker of something in her eyes, her expression remains unchanged. "Mm," she agrees. "I can understand that. Sometimes... I miss being just one of the healers. I spend all my time administering the healers, and not actually doing the work; or so it feels." "At that point? Pretty much the furthest, yes." Milani's mouth quirks to the side again. "Funny how things come around," she murmurs more quietly and tappity taps her pencil on her papers. "Exactly. Though I think Azaylia is a much more ... comfortable Weyrwoman to work under than Satiet even and a far sight better than Tiriana ever was. Iolene ... well never really got the chance to know." Her head shakes over all of that. "Mostly, it's just that sometimes I know I'd do or would have done things differently and it can be hard not to say anything." Madilla exhales at mention of Satiet, and twists her expression further for those references to Tiriana and Iolene. "Mm." A pause. "I can understand that, too. It's difficult to imagine what it would be like, for me, to remain here as a healer, but not as weyrhealer. I suppose I'd have to move; although if I went back to the Hall, they'd want me as a teaching Master, which would be worse. I think I'm stuck. I admire your willingness to get back into it." "If you're stuck though, best to be stuck where you're happy, right?" Milani smiles over at Madilla. "I couldn't not, if that makes any sense. It was get back into it ... or think about leaving. Records wouldn't have been enough long-term." "Exactly," confirms Madilla, the corners of her mouth turning up into something warm and firm. "No, I understand that. It... makes sense. I'm glad you've had the opportunity," she adds. "To get back into it. I'd hate... it would bother me, not to be doing something I was passionate about. Something that felt productive. So here we are." "Here we are," Milani echoes and slides a hand over, reaching for the healer's to offer it a squeeze. "And still friends after all these turns. Would you ever have imagined how things turned out when you first got here? So much to get used to." Madilla's fingers wrap around Milani's in answer, delivering a squeeze of their own. "I was more than a little intimidated by you," she admits. "When we met. I liked you; but you scared me. So much did, I suppose. No, I would never have imagined... there was so much to get used to. And so much has changed. But," she smiles, firmly. "Changed for the best." "/I/ scared you?" Clearly this concept is utterly foreign to Milani, but it only makes her laugh all the more. "Goodness me. How much scarier so many other things must've been, so many other people." She nods agreeing about change, but her smile fades a little on the last. "Mostly for the best," she qualifies a little. "A lot of change, definitely." Madilla's own smile fades a little, too, abruptly more solemn for that last. "Everything scared me," she murmurs. "But you... you were a perfect representation of a completely different kind of like. I felt like I ought to be wary of you; I wasn't. That was scary. I think... it's difficult to imagine how things would be, if things hadn't happened the way they did. I regret things, but... I can't imagine it differently." Milani withdraws her hand, fingers threading together atop her paperwork. "Ahh, that kind of scared. That makes more sense. I mean, other than being very tall, I just have trouble feeling very intimidating, you know?" She grins warmly and nods. "Mm. I don't think I could've imagined where we've wound up. I have my own share of regrets too, but there's been a lot of good, for all the harder times." "You're the opposite of intimidating, except that, in a way, that makes you intimidating. In a good way." Madilla chews on her lip for a moment, then drops her gaze towards the table, and her letter. "It's something I keep trying to tell Lily - Lilabet - and Dee. They have all these very firm ideas of what they want, and I have to remind them that they need to be open to other options. It's good to have plans, but... wait and see." "Huh," Milani takes that in and can't help laughing again. She's quiet for a few moments, musing perhaps then nods over at Madilla. "You have to roll with ... whatever comes along," she agrees wholeheartedly. "Milandra was ... so keen to impress," she offers over with a little sigh. "I'll admit I'm glad she was passed over though. I think she should have a bit more /time/ to just be herself. Be /Andi/ without having to worry about everything changing so drastically." "She's only... thirteen, isn't she? It's so young. I was at the Hall by then, of course, but that's... reversible." Madilla sucks in a breath, and then releases it. "I'll feel the same about Lilabet and Dilan. Raija, too, if it ends up being her dream. I'm so glad Lilabet wanted to Apprentice; she still talks about being a greenrider, but it's an ambition for later. Has Milandra thought about what she wants to do now?" "Fourteen in three months and change," Milani answers with a little quirky grin, as if she can't quite fathom having a child of that age. "And I was already working as Hayda's assistant when I was fourteen, but that's also reversible - an occupation not ... a fundamental change of who you are." Her cheeks puff up and she blows out a breath. "Well, I think she'll probably leave the Weyr for a little while, travel with her father's people. She's gone to stay with her grandparents before, but only for a few weeks at a time, I think she's thinking months, maybe even a turn this time. So she'll be flying out of the nest regardless, just ... not with a dragon." Somehow, 'fourteen' is significantly worse than 'thirteen;' Madilla's mouth twitches, and her head shakes. Madness! "Good for her," she says. "That she's got another plan, for now. Other options. It's hard, seeing them go. It's... Dilan's homesick, but he's desperately determined to stick it out. He loves being with his brother; I guess that's one thing I've not managed to provide him with. But it hurts. I miss him. Both of them. Visiting just isn't the same." "No, no it isn't. Being apart from them, no matter whether they're little or big ... it's hard," Milani agrees. "Though I'm also glad that they're showing signs of being able to make their own way. Nikalas wanted to stand too, but Kas made sure to quash that. Eleven is /far/ too young. I think they're all just a little ... dragon-mad at that age. Or well, a lot of kids are." Again, Madilla traces her fingers over her letter, exhaling a sigh that says more than her words ever could. "Yes, yes definitely. It's good to see them... becoming their own people. Making their own decisions. Though," she's much firmer, on this, "Eleven is definitely far too young. I suppose it must be difficult, when the older kids, the ones you look up to, are taking the opportunity and you... can't. But. You can't change your mind about Impression." "He's still just a boy, even if he doesn't quite realize it," Milani says with a low chuckle. "We agreed he has to wait until the same age as his sister. Thirteen minimum. In two turns, he might've found something else and be less keen. It's ... something you have to think through carefully, I think." "Even without Thread. In some ways... more." Madilla pauses after saying that, and then clarifies, "I mean, dragonriders aren't in the face of danger constantly, but... things are uncertain for them. It's a difficult life, without..." She breaks off, shaking her head. "I know there are dragonriders who keep involved in their crafts to some degree, but it's all different, isn't it? It changes everything." "It's less clear-cut. Less risk, but less definition too. They have to ... keep the fire burning for generations. It's a different job," Milani agrees. "It's different but well ... my parents, my brother, they all agree that no Thread is better? Because they have most of the advantages of being riders without the big risk. And they /can/ pursue crafts if they have one. My oldest brother was able to really dive back into being a baker for instance." "I suppose so," says Madilla, after a moment. Then; "Once upon a time, I was envious. I watched apprentices being Searched around me, and I... wished. But it wouldn't be the same, if I Impressed. I wouldn't be. If it's what my children want, I won't stand in their way. It runs in both of their families - at least, Dilan has an aunt, and Lilabet... and they were raised here. Do you ever regret not Standing, Milani?" "No," is Milani's immediate and unequivocal answer, "I don't regret it at all. I knew it wasn't for me. I couldn't ... give up so much of myself," she says slowly. "Besides, even though I /could/ whenever I wanted to, no dragon /ever/ showed the slightest interest in me. My mother and Sionath Searched many candidates with me standing right there and Sionath never said boo. Or any other Search dragon for that matter. So I don't think I ever had it in me." Madilla's nod is slow; measured and thoughtful. "I think," she says, finally, "That you and I are simply better where we are. I make a much better healer than I would a dragonrider. You make a much better headwoman. And so... here we are. As we are." Beat. "I should get back to the infirmary." "As we should be," Milani agrees and offers Madilla a wide smile. "And I should go find my children and take that walk around the lake, before my eldest rides off to parts unknown with a wild trader caravan." She tidies up her things and reaches over to offer the healer a hug this time. "Let's get lunch sometime soon, hm? Picnic out in the meadow maybe. We need those breaks from work!" Madilla returns that hug warmly, her smile bright. "That sounds lovely," she says, firmly. "Good luck. Enjoy your time with Andi before... well. Just enjoy." Letter in hand, held close, she takes her leave, meandering off towards the infirmary with a skip in her step. "See you," Milani waves as Madilla heads off and gathers up her own things to go off in search of her not-so-little ones. |
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