Logs:Tea With Berit
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| RL Date: 8 September, 2008 |
| Who: Paige, Berit |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: In which Paige and Berit have tea, weeds are disliked and personal lives are edged to the forefront. (Paige is unknowingly proddy.) |
| When: Day 7, Month 9, Turn 17 (Interval 10) |
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| Hours before in the early hours of the morning, a certain oceanic presence had brushed against Tiasheth's mind, calling her name and issuing an invitation that they just could not reject - almost literally, since the gold had been adamant enough to issue it as a command. Now, with the table covering in a lacy white cloth and set with plates decorated with painted-on flowers, cups, and utensils, all that needs to happen is the arrival of Paige. Zibeth has taken herself off, leaving Berit to sit in her chair and fuss over the silver, tiered serving tray in the middle of the table. There are flowers there too, their essence filling the room and adding a pop of color against the white tablecloth. And at length, Paige arrives, attired in a long-sleeved shirt that tucks neatly into a nice pair of pants. They're not quite the type for serious flying; fortunately, it's a short glide down to the bowl floor and not a terribly long walk up to Berit's weyr afterwards. Despite appearing abashed by all the trouble that Berit's clearly gone to for their afternoon tea, she's quick to paste on a smile and greet her friend with her typical warmth, even if her eyes look a little puffy and nose, a little red. On the top of the tiers are flaky, sweet pastries with purple icing flowers, and in the next tier, finger sandwiches just like the third. Flower brush the bottom of the ornate tray, wrapping in semblance of a pattern. "Paige," Berit says happily upon seeing her friend, rising from her chair with hands folded in front of her lily-white sundress. "You look.. oh.. are you.. sick?" She peers at the other girl curiously, worriedly, with her brow puckered. "Come on, sit. I can pour your tea right away. It looks like you need it more than me." Moving around to Paige's chair, which has also been covered in fabric, she pulls it out as she says, "I hope you like finger sandwiches. I thought we could eat light today." "Berit, " Paige returns equally happily, giving a quick little sniffle. "Naw, I dun reckon I'm sick. Maybe I was a'walkin' too near them plants again or somethin'." Like the ones that gave her a rash during her initial visit to the Weyr. "Yer table's sure done up purty, " she marvels, sinking into her covered chair with an admiring glance for the cloths and the sandwiches. "Light's - light's good." She situates herself relatively quickly, mood apparently lifting. "Thank ya fer askin' me t'tea with ya. S'better'n spendin' it all - all alone." Did her lip just quiver? Deft fingers smooth the fabric over the back of the chair. "Do you think is it? You should try to stay away from the garden then. There is no telling what all growing in there. I saw a few weeds the other day when I was picking flowers for my vase." Berit steps back to her own chair, scooting it in, and then her hands go to the pretty tea pot. "Thank you. I toiled over it for hours this morning, with Kulen over my shoulder. She just is not cooperative, I find, when it comes to these things. Wants it her way, but I told her.. Kulen, this is *my* table." And that is that, as she leans over to pour the perfect cup of tea, not spilling a drop; seems her motions are practiced. "Alon.." She pauses, pot arrested in her hand, green eyes glued to Paige. "..Paige?" Paige's expression smoothes into something more relaxed, relatively quickly. Maybe her lip didn't quiver, after all. "Weeds're growin' thin's, too, " she laments, "but they're awful annoyin' near nice flowers, I gotta agree." There's a little shake of her head for the goldrider's discourse on Kulen's uncooperative ways, eyebrows lifting as the other young woman pauses. "Yeah, Berit? Somethin' wrong?" Relaxed now, but the change is not quick enough. Berit sees it and settles the teapot back on the tablecloth, folding her hands in her lap and waiting patiently. It has to come out eventually. "I think the weeks choke the other flowers and take all the nutrients in the soil. It is not good for the other things they are trying to grow, like the herbs." An odd smile. "I know I would rather herbs on my food than weeds." Her fingers come up to brush absently at her cheekbone, as if there is something there to dust away. "Are you upset, Paige?" "Least the herbs ain' alone, " Paige offers, reaching over to add a touch of something sweet and a piece of citrus into her tea. "But yer right. I dun reckon they'd taste good." Her hand hesitates for a moment before replacing her cup on the table, gaze dropping momentarily. "Not now, I ain', " she says at last, peeking back up again. "Was a lil bit, earlier t'day. Jus' got t'thinkin' 'bout stuff and got a lil teary. S'alrigh'." Still, she sighs a little, fingers closing about the handle of her teacup without moving it. "Ista's so far away." Cream and sugar goes into her own tea, plain and sweet. "I am not too much into gardening, but at the Hall, we had to keep the dye plants free of weeds and the herbs too. I doubt they would be so serious about it if it did not have a *very good* purpose." Berit stirs her tea, dissolving the sugar, with a spoon. "Then again, they could have done it to give the apprentices more chores." Her smile is wry, but it fades beneath her concern. "Ista..? Why would you think about Ista being so far away? It is just a dragon ride there, and it is so very hot anyway." Pause. "Did you want to get a tan, or something?" "Guess so, " Paige remarks about those weeds, tipping her cup upward for another little sip before finally, she reaches over for a spoon, too. "S'jus' so far south, " she adds, mouth dipping into a little frown. "'Tain' nothin' t'ride there a'dragonback, I know, but - " And she breaks off, eyes rounding. "A tan?" she echoes blankly. "Coulda got tha' at Boll, if'n I wanted." Boll. That mention causes her cheeks to pink, just slightly. The sound of the spoon clinking against the inside of the teacup, and then, "Between cuts the time incredibly, you know that, or are you adverse to going between all of a sudden?" One brow raises, but the teasing is in her eyes. Berit raises the cup to her lips, blowing the steam and taking a sip. "Could, but Ista is less humid." Eyes flick back to Paige as she makes a grab for one of those finger sandwiches, "Are you.. blushing? What, did you sunbathe naked one time?" And she grins, picking apart the bread and stuffing. "No, jus' - " and Paige quickly reaches for one of those sandwiches, too, even if her attention is anywhere but on the food. With not a little difficulty, she finally spills out, "'Twasn' 'xactly like a hug." This is a bit different from admitting to Nerine that she got things taken care of. "But - y'were righ'. 'Twas nice." And finally, she takes a nibble of sandwich, another drink of tea. That blush begins to fade, slowly. In silence, Berit nibbles on her sandwich, watching her friend struggle to explain what it is on her mind, and when it comes out, she blinks a few times, pulls her sandwich away from her mouth. "It was.." *Oh, that!* She tries not to smile, occupies her mouth with her sandwich, and dusts her hands after tucking it away in her cheeks. Chewing, thoughtfully, and once she swallows, she picks up her napkin. "It is not exactly, no, but it feels nice, like a hug." Maybe magnified a few times. "So, who was it?" Cut through all the red tape! So much for Paige's blush fading; it returns promptly at Berit's inquiry, even if the greenrider can't quite keep the corners of her mouth from turning automatically upwards into a shy, little smile. "P'draig, " she admits finally, sheepish. And yet, something in her face lights up the minute she says his name; besotted? Just a little. "Dun got any righ' t'really ask ya the same, " but she peeks over at Berit anyway, just in case her friend feels like dropping a name or a more generic identity. Back to the sandwiches, another taken off the tray and small bites being taken. "P'draig, truly?" Surprise and speechlessness, but she recovers her aplomb swiftly, reaching for her teacup. "I would have never guessed our weyrlingmaster, of all people." Her eyebrows hike a little as she takes a sip, then clears her throat past her shock. "Oh, T'rev." It is automatic, without hesitation or any thought given to the matter, a smile and steady green eyes on Paige. "You can ask whatever you like. We are friends, after all, and friends tell each other things." "Yeah, " Paige confirms then, shyly, adding, "I - He - We're gonna keep a'seein' each other, Berit. 'Twasn' - jus', y'know, gettin' thin's taken care of." She shifts a little, almost choking on her next drink. "T'rev, really? Didn' know y'all were - tha' close." Mild surprise on her end. "He was - y'know - the firs' person ya ... ?" Talking about something and articulating it specifically; two completely different things. More surprise on Berit's end. "As in.. you two are.. courting?" Holdbred flippantly is not easily stepped away from, especially when her mind is too shocked with this news to comprehend anything else. "I had no.. I thought.. does he not have a weyrmate? *A man*." She leans back, saucer on her palm, teacup handle held in the other hand. "Yeah, we are.. close." If you can call it that. "Pretty steady thing going, but we are not involved, like that. It is just.." She frowns, searching for a better word; finds none, "sex." Paige's head may duck a little, but it doesn't do much to hide her radiant expression. Whatever was bothering her previously is, for the moment, a distant memory. "Guess we are, " she says quietly. "We're - sweethearts, he put it. He's weyrmated t'T'mic, Aath's rider. We ain' weyrmates ourselves but - oh Berit, " a sudden overflow of emotion, "he's jus' such a wonderful, sweet, carin' person." She almost cringes when Berit finishes - almost. "I - dunno if'n I could, " she confesses, mouth suddenly dry, "be with someone jus' fer - tha'. Carin' 'bout each other and - and lovin' - seem awful important." No, she doesn't have what it takes for one night stands. Radiant, oh boy. "Sweethearts. Quaint." As she takes another sip, tries not to let her true thoughts show - a man? Really. "I always knew P'draig was a very caring individual. I think that is part of what made him such a good teacher. He actually cared what happened to us all." She sets the cup back down, gives her shoulders a wiggle. "It is not as bad as it sounds. T'rev is.." Chewing her bottom lip, "We are very good friends, comfortable with one another. I could tell him almost anything. Between us, it is not awkward or bad. It is just.. us." And she sighs, reaches forward for another sandwich. "I hope you do not think horrible of me after this." Berit's assessment of P'draig gets a little nod, another little smile while she, too, reaches for a second sandwich. Paige is an attentive listener, one who shakes her head and is quick to reassure Berit, "Y'ain' havin' a sordid affair, " she says cheerfully enough, "and if'n yer okay with it and so's he, can' be too big of a deal. Least he ain', like - I dunno, our Weyrleader or somethin'." She even permits herself a little giggle; really, the very idea! No, she certainly isn't passing judgment on Berit for this, as she remains an understanding companion throughout the rest of their afternoon tea and talk, departing only when food, tea and topics are all thoroughly depleted. |
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