Logs:There
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 6 November, 2015 |
| Who: Farideh, Lys |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Two friends are going through different changes, but they can still relate and be there for one another. Aw. |
| Where: Kitchen, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 15, Month 3, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Azarna/Mentions, Drex/Mentions, H'vier/Mentions, Irianke/Mentions, Jocelyn/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions, Silva/Mentions, T'gar/Mentions, V'ret/Mentions, Vesra/Mentions |
  |
>---< Kitchen, High Reaches Weyr(#267RJs) >----------------------------------<
Polished marble and granite surfaces, gleaming metalwork and pale woods
characterize the vaulted fastness of the kitchen. Several large hearths
gape red-mouthed against the outer wall of the cavern, their fires almost
always stoked for the constant cooking the Weyr requires to feed its
denizens. Sinks line the wall to one side of the hearths, providing ample
space to wash large quantities of dishes, while to the other, cabinetry
and a deep pantry provide storage space for items commonly needed on a
day-to-day basis.
The remaining wall space is taken up by passageways and extra seating:
swinging doors that lead variously to the main living cavern, the inner
caverns and the storage rooms, a counter-height pass-through for food
service to the Snowasis, and a series of nooks equipped with tables and
benches for quick, out-of-the-way meals any time of day. The kitchen has a rhythm that one could, if one spent enough time here, track the hours of the day by. The pulse of the work and workers rises into a crescendo of coordinated activity just before the lunch platters go out and then steadies to a relatively even and predictable pattern of replenishing trays, keeping food warm in the kitchen, and starting on the cleanup that precedes the prep for the next large meal. Once upon a time, Lys-- no, Lya-- could've been found as a walking, breathing part of this work, of this particular clock. Now, she stands apart, taking a plate from Vesra before ducking her head in thanks and moving to take one of the nooks along the wall to have her meal. And then there are people in the Weyr who disrupt everything when they walk into a room; not that Farideh normally goes but the still-larger-growing belly of hers gets a fair share of tuts and sets plenty of the kitchen women to fussing over the weyrwoman. "I'm fine. No-- no, just-- I don't want to sit. Azarna-- no. I'm--" The goldrider is no match for their powers of persuasion, but just as they're pushing her towards one of the tables, she spots Lys and her face brightens. "Lys-- there you are. Excuse me. I need to speak with that weyrling over there-- ah," she dodges away and stops near the weyrling's table. "Can I sit? With you?" even casting a wary look behind, to make sure they're not following. Lys might have been looking to take her meal by herself, being in the kitchen and not where most weyrlings will be taking their own; there's only so much bonding an unsociable girl can take. If that was the case though, the want seems to be forgotten in the sound of Farideh's voice, a smile warming her expression as the goldrider arrives. "Yes," is simple but felt. "Ma'am?" is added questioningly, testingly offered to find out if this is official business or, given the hopeful look, the preferred not. A glance goes briefly to those women, a single arching brow adding her own challenge to those women who know that while they could easily 'win' an encounter the attitude that might be offered them by the blonde weyrling, their day would be sourer for it and so perhaps better to skip all together. "I'm not Irianke," Farideh exhales, and summarily plops down opposite Lys, looking infinitely more comfortable than moments before when she entered the kitchen on an errand that seems forgotten for now. "How are you? How is Evyth? Are you adjusting well? Sleeping? Eating?" It's a slew of questions, without a breath between, but when she's finished asking she simply studies the blonde silently, awaiting the answers. "Even Irianke has me call her Irianke now," Lys answers with a smile that's a little shy for the admission. "I just didn't know if this was something-- professional, or not. I've only seen you when I'm in the training cavern and stuff since hatching." The busy lives of young weyrlings doesn't leave much time for being social. "I'm alright. Happy with Evyth, sad about H'vier, angry about having to cut my hair, sleep-deprived and always hungry." The answers are given succinctly but with the honesty of a friend telling a friend. "How are you? Hungry all the time?" There's a gentle tease to the words. "Happy?" holds more concern but also hope. "The staff back at home call my mother ma'am. I'm not that old or presumptuous." Farideh settles back in her seat, nestling in her skirts, which are voluminous and plum-colored. "You can call me whatever you want to call me-- as long as it isn't ma'am, weyrwoman, or lady," she returns, with a smile of her own. "I think I remember having a lot of emotions too. Even without H'vier's-- untimely death-- it's a lot to take in at once. I was happy. I was nervous. I was angry. Your hair will grow back though, is the good news." And her situation is a little more sobering. "Hungry all the time. Morning and night. Not any nausea anymore-- mostly. Tired. Two months left but they're turning out to be the two longest months." "How about I just call you Farideh like I always have then? At least where Quinlys can't hear me." Lys answers the brunette with a dimpled smile. The emotions get a sigh that acknowledges the truth of Farideh's words with a certain amount of resignation. "Evyth doesn't understand why I feel what I feel, but she tries hard," and there's fondness in her tone at relating that. "I can't even really imagine what it must be like," Lys' eyes fall to Farideh's belly briefly before giving her a look that tries for sympathy. "You've gotten this far though. Only a little left." She bites her lower lip, "But are you-- happy? Excited? Or--?" There's uncertainty in her expression for pressing the question, but she cares. "I won't tell Quinlys if you don't," the brunette says, eyes widening for the barest moment and her lips curving into a winsome smile. "No-- not now, and sometimes not ever, but she'll get better at understanding as she gets older. Should. Not all of them do. Take Lythronath for example--" Farideh looks less than pleased to be referencing the bronze, but it's followed by a shrug and a pat to her own sloping belly. "I don't know. I have days where I'm all of those and more. Most days I'm tired. I don't think I'm especially ready to be a mother-- it sounds strange just saying it-- and I'm not sure what I'm going to do yet, but, it's happening, so we adjust." The smile returned to the first is willingly conspiratorial. The next gets a thoughtful nod. "It seems like-- maybe some of the dragons have inherited his-- uh, whatever you would call that." Lys wrinkles her nose a little before adding, "But not Evyth. She's sweet and kind and wonderful." She speaks as a woman in love and happily so. Her eyes drop to the goldrider's belly and she nods. "I don't think it's strange. I wouldn't be ready, and I think you're brave, Farideh." There's honest and simple admiration in that. "I'm-- I know I was gone, but I won't be now, not ever again, even if I am busy learning how to be a dragonrider, but I'm here, if you ever need me; I hope you know that." "It would seem. I had hoped they would all have their own distinct personalities-- their own stable personas, but there's a few--" Farideh's forehead scrunches up as her brows come together over troubled hazel eyes. "You're lucky she's so caring. Could you have asked for more?" There, her face smooths out and she smiles again. "I'm not brave. I'm foolish and irresponsible, if anything, but at least, it sets a good precedent, doesn't it? You don't have to worry about me. I'll be fine. We'll all be fine. Weyrs have the luxury of nurseries, and if that fails to suit, I can always hire someone. It's not as though I'll actually have the time. No-- you focus on you, and if you ever need any help-- well, you know where to find me." "I can... imagine why you hoped that." Lys reaches for her fork and digs into her food. The 'too bad it didn't work out' isn't said, but is probably there in the silence of her first few bites. "Honestly, I don't think I could even have asked for this. I never knew someone could love like she loves, could accept me the way she has." Her smile for this is brilliant and pure. "I will focus on me, but part of focusing on me is reconnecting with my friends. You." She gives a little shrug and embarrassed sort of smile. "I know you'll be fine though. You, and the baby and Drex." "You'd lost hope? That there was one out for you? I never could fathom how they choose, but they always know-- and she chose you." Farideh's head tips to the side as her smile stretches wider. "One day, you might even take Quinlys' job," she tosses out, and then immediately laughs; that bluerider. "If it will make you feel better-- but only a little. I won't tolerate you fussing all about like everyone else does. You'd think no one had ever been pregnant at the Weyr before." Wiggling her shoulders about, she wrinkles her nose. "Aunties." "Uh," has Lys' cheeks coloring a pretty shade of pink. "Not... exactly." She shakes her head. "I just-- I mean, I never had anything like this in my life. No mother and father, or sisters until-" there's a little gesture toward the goldrider. "So imagining Evyth was beyond what I thought life could be. All of these feelings are new, for me." There's a little roll of her shoulders for the idea of taking Quinlys' job. "I don't need to fuss over you," is lighter, "I don't even think I'd do it right," since she has no experience, "but I'd like to just be here for you, if you ever need not an auntie to listen or help or whatever. When I can." She's eating faster now though, doubtless a sign that she's aware that her limitations involve an unpredictable baby dragon who might curtail lunch at any moment. "I'm glad-- that she found you, that you're happy, that she's everything you could have wanted and more." The way Farideh is looking at Lys is definitely with affection and a fair bit of happiness of her own. "I appreciate it, but really there's nothing to listen to except how my feet hurt and I want to take a nap and how the living cavern always smells like poor personal hygiene so much that I can barely stand it." Her lips twitch, briefly. "And the other weyrlings? Are you getting along with them?" "Me too," is humble and separated from the rest by a few bites, a chew and swallow. Lys tilts her head to smile warmly at the goldrider, "Well, I'm a very good listener when it comes to talking about things like people with poor personal hygiene." There's humor there. "I'm-- well, I still have a sparkling personality and I could probably stand to put a few more of the skills the traders taught me. So, not so much getting along, but not not getting along either. How are you liking helping out with the teaching and all?" "No? You have that T'gar character and V'ret in your class, and Jocelyn and Silva, too. Some others with-- questionable personalities. I might have tossed their things out in the snow by now, if I was you," Farideh says, brightly, despite the message. "There is a lot to teach everyone. How anyone goes through life without learning the basics is beyond me. I can forgive the details-- the lineage, the politics, but there's no excuse for some of the others." That idea prompts a laugh from Lys. "I might have, but I've been pretty wrapped up in Evyth. Maybe next seven," is the light rejoinder (that might be entirely true). Then the green weyrling's hand is rising to scratch her neck self-consciously. "Well, I'm sure you'll straighten us all out." She takes a few bites more before shifting, "I should get back so I can oil Evyth's neck so she doesn't itch through lecture. I'll see you soon though, in the training cavern if nowhere else." She has a warm smile for Farideh. "You can finish that if you want," she gestures to the plate, tone teasing but the offer probably serious. "I'll act surprised," Farideh says, of the next seven premonition. "Just as well-- it was lovely talking to you Lys. You know where I live. When you get a moment-- when you get tired of all of that testosterone in the barracks, you're welcome-- until then," and don't mind if she do; pick off of the weyrling's plate, that is. |
Comments
V'ret (13:24, 9 November 2015 (PST)) said...
I object to being included in that list. I deserve my own list.
Leave A Comment