Logs:Who Would?
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| RL Date: 19 June, 2011 |
| Who: Madilla, Sibella |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Madilla is just in time to help out Sibella, who trips. |
| Where: Kitchen, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 25, Month 13, Turn 25 (Interval 10) |
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| Kitchen, High Reaches Weyr 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. Being near suppertime, the kitchen is bustling. The canines are busily turning the spit in one of the large hearths, while several of the Weyr's designated cooks do less cooking and more overlooking the weyrbrats handling the actual food. Dragonriders are constantly in an out, stealing a bite of this or that over the platter that is constantly being refilled in the corner of the large kitchen. The smell of everything from roast wherry to merry bubbly pies wafts through and out of the room, and more than one weyrchild is sporting evidence of stained lips and light fingers. Sibella, herself, rushes to and from one of the baking hearths, the pantry, and the trays being filled for the nightly feast required to fill so many bellies. She stops, tray full of fruit-filled pastries in hand, to praise one of the children on her handiwork motivating the canines. Unfortunately, this was just the diversion a nearby firelizard - a little green - had been waiting for. In its attempt a bit of the roasting haunch in the hearth, it startles Sibella into an ungainly hop, sending the tray flying and Sibella sprawling. It's not usually Madilla's habit to head into the kitchen this close to mealtimes, though she's a common face in the in-between hours. For whatever reason, however, her steps carry her in from the caverns just in time to see Sibella's sprawl, and for all that she has no jurisdiction in the kitchen, the healer hops to, long legs carrying her across the distance between them so that she can offer the other woman a hand. Expression sympathetic, tone hinting at concern, she asks, "Are you all right?" Just as the healer bounds toward Sibella, the small girl, Innavi, similarly rushes to the baker's side - only to be halted mid-step by the approach of the healer. Innavi glowers quietly from the short distance while Madilla offers assistance, resentful, and even jealous, of the helpful and authoritative presence. Arms crossed and legs spread in a defensive stance, Innavi remains potently silent. Innavi does not go unnoticed by Sibella. Indeed, Sibella does not aknowledge the child's broodiness and instead hurriedly stands, brushing off her backside and turning to the new woman, built similiar to herself. "Oh yes, I'm quite alright!" Sibilla says, equally to assure Madilla and Innavi, the newest of her brood = albeit the first exile. However, the lie is proven such as her vision swims and her eyes start to cross slightly. "Oh..." Madilla withdraws her hand, though her attention remains focused upon Sibella, a certain amount of wariness obvious in her stance - and in her concerned expression. Though she must have noted Innavi, and the girl's stance, the healer pays no particular attention to her; instead, firmly, "I think you'd better come over here and sit down. Why don't--" /Now/ she glances at Innavi. "Could you get her a glass of water? Cold water?" Innavi resists for a moment, now wanting this... /weyr/ woman to order her about. However, another groan escapes Sibella as she half-falls into the offered chair, usually occupied by an off-duty dragonrider. Innavi's resolve breaks into worry, and she rushes toward the dishwashing crowd near the sinks to find the fresh rainwater stored near there for drinking and a mug. Meanwhile, Sibella rubs at her temples and keeps her eyes open just enough to peer at Madilla. "Sorry... Inna-" Sibella hesitates, trying to steady the disorienting dizziness inside her skull. "Innavi. She can be..." Another pause as she eyes the shoulder knot that swims between her eyes, teasing her, "Are you... a healer?" There's something in Madilla's gaze that doesn't encourage argument, though it relaxes as Innavi runs off towards the sinks. She sinks to her knees beside the chair in which Sibella is sitting, reaching out to put one hand on either side of the woman's face, to capture her attention as best she can. "I am," confirms the healer. "Can you meet my eyes? Look at me." Sibella tries, she really does. However, every time she seems to bring the healer's green gaze into focus, she has to chase it down again. Her brow creases in concentration for a moment, until she resigns from the task with a groaning sigh, returning to the easier movement; rubbing her temples. "Can't," she mutters, "So sorry. I'm quite dizzy..." Her eyes close, having an easier time with the dark behind her eyelids. Innavi returns with not a mug, these having been inaccessible through the crowd, but a valuable little glass cup of water. She starts to offer it to Sibella, but turns to the healer instead, noting Sibella's closed eyes and wrinkled brow. "Here," she says, "Make her better -" and after a beat, "Please?" Concern furrows Madilla's brow as she bites her lip, regarding Sibella evenly. What she intends to do about the woman's inability to focus is cut off by Innavi's return; she attempts a quick smile as she accepts the water, murmuring, "I'll do my best. She's going to be fine." The water gets set down as she turns her attention back to Sibella. "I'm just going to feel around for lumps. Is that all right? You can keep your eyes closed, but don't fall asleep for now." Innavi stands back, duty done, feeling particularly helpless. She considers returning to the canines, then dismisses the notion, watching Sibella unhappily. Sibella can do little more than nod, regretting the motion immediately after. "Hurts... here," says Sibella, pointing to the back of her skull, right above the nape of her neck. She pulls her ringlets out of the way, as demands her ever-helpful nature. Glancing back at Innavi, Madilla suggests warmly, "Why don't you hold her hand while I take a look? Be brave for her." She evidently hasn't properly picked up names just yet, but it doesn't seem to be a priority. Her hands are only a little bit cold as they begin to feel their way around Sibella's skull. She evidently finds the spot mentioned, because her brow furrows again, and she nods. "Or-- you could go and get me some fresh snow. And a cloth of some kind to wrap it in. Could you manage that?" Innavi is frozen in place, being addressed directly by the healer. However, before she can even muster up the courage to touch Sibella's hand - affection being thus far foreign in the relationship = she is given another command. Her legs are already moving as she says, "Can," happy to have some diversion from the looks of pain and befuddlement on Sibella's face. Although she barely remembers to stop and ask another child for directions, seconds later she is darting out of the kitchen. Meanwhile, Sibella keeps her head low to avoid troubling the healer, but manages to keep from muffling her voice as she speaks, "I'm so sorry. It was... clumsy. Thank you." Her last word is barely out before nimble and capable, blessed Innavi is back with a metallic water bucket packed tight with snow, a new, unused dustrag draped over the side. "Thought it'd be okay... took it from the cleaning closet." "Good girl," says Madilla, with a momentary glance towards Innavi, complete with a flicker of a smile. While the girl is gone, she keeps up with her examination, telling Sibella, warmly, "It's fine. These things happen. You're going to be okay. Do you want some water?" Innavi's return draws another smile, the healer assuring her, "That's perfect. Why don't you pack some of that snow into the dustrag for me. Like a pillow? We're going to use that to ease the swelling." Bringer her head slowly up, Sibella manages a grateful smile, reaching for the water. Knowing what little she does about Healing, she knows enough to inform Madilla quite coherently that, "I'm not sleepy, and even though my head aches a bit, it doesn't really hurt severely. And the dizziness is starting to fade." As Sibella completes this dutiful, informative spiel Innavi responds like any 6-year-old to praise with a beam, albeit an elusively quick one. Reassured that the healer is doing her task well, Innavi goes to hers, tying the dustrag around the well-packed, snow-melting snow. Madilla sounds relieved when she says, "Good. That means you probably don't have a concussion - though I want to keep an eye on you for a little while, anyway. Can you follow my finger, now?" She lifts it, moving it back and forth in front of Sibella's eyes cautiously. When she's done, she turns towards Innavi, noting, "That's perfect. Excellent. See - everything is going to be fine. No real harm done." Innavi nods, and turns back to her previous tasks with the working canines near the spit. Sibella watches her go with a fond gleam in her eye, then turns back to the healer with a sigh, registering her words. "I'm glad. And thank you. I don't usually take hurt often, having so much... cushion." Her ringlets bounce as she giggles and pokes at a plush hip. "Working in the kitchens is lovely if you're going for a fuller figure. Now I'll just have to figure out how to pad my skull." She fluffs her hair, "Perhaps a bigger style?" Madilla, not exactly a skinny girl herself, can only laugh. She offers the wrapped-up snow to the other woman as she says, "There are benefits to being well-padded, aren't there? It's a pity our heads don't quite work that way, no matter how much hair we have." Her gaze finds Innavi across the room, lingering there for a moment, but returns quickly to her 'patient'. "Do you want something for the pain? For your head, I mean. Aside from the snow." Sibella grins at Madilla impishly and grabs a pastry from the tray kept for the snacking visitors. "I think this will do well enough." With one hand occupied by the pastry, as she occupies the other with the snow-rag on her head, she begins to feel quite silly and turns the conversation. "Well, I suppose after all your help you should know your patient's name. I'd be Sibella. That over there was Innavi. Good girl," and quietly, with only a slight hesitation, "One of the exile children, deserving of a better fate than she'd be destined to." "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sibella," says Madilla, genuinely; she's got a warm, open smile to match. She leans back on her knees, now, settling on the floor as though she's perfectly comfortable in such a position (and perhaps she is). "I'm Madilla. Journeyman healer, luckily for you. One of the exiles you say?" Her head turns back towards the mentioned Innavi, eyes slightly wider for it. "That explains-- well. It must be so difficult. At least being so young she has ever chance of adjusting completely, given time." "She will!" Sibella's voice is almost vehement. "Even if I, personally, have to make sure of it. Oh, the poor exiled babies. So many that didn't make it... the ones who did are hardy, and yet so fragile." Sibella sighs and turns her wandering, weary gaze back to Madilla. "Thank you for dealing so well with Innavi. I wish she would let me get to know her better. As it is..." Sibella spreads her hands in a gesture of helplessness. "But I'm glad she's here, amongst us, all the same, instead of around the rougher sorts of her kind." She cocks her head thoughtfully, wondering at why exactly she considered the exiles a completely seperate people from the weyrfolk she knew. "I believe you," murmurs Madilla, barely above a whisper; she seems pleased, though there's a definite seriousness to her expression as, no doubt, she thinks of all of those who didn't make it through. "It's awful, isn't it? Taken from their home into this utterly strange place, and then so many of them died and I... we couldn't help them. It doesn't surprise me, I suppose, that they don't trust us. It hurts, though. I really do only want the best for them." Her smile turns more rueful, and, as she smooths her skirt over her knees, she adds, "I hope, one day, we don't think of them as exiles or islanders - but as just weyrfolk." Always the mother hen, Sibella clucks and pats Madilla on the shoulder. "You weren't responsible for all of those lives, you know. Nor are you responsible for those still remaining." She sits back and chuckles to herself, thinking that perhaps she'd do better to listen to her own advice. "So then, do you think that'd be their fate? To someday meld into weyrfolk?" Madilla has to, surely, know that she's not responsible, but although she gives Sibella an honest, if not over large smile, it doesn't seem to have completely removed her fears. "Maybe not," she allows. "But I still feel bad. We should have been able to do more. We /should/ be able to do more. I don't like to feel powerless." Pausing, she gives Sibella a thoughtful glance. "I should think so. Most of them, anyway. Where else are they going to go?" Sibella nods thoughtfully, leaving Madilla to her own private thoughts on the matter. "Oh, I know. It just... well, they hate us so very much. Some of them, in any case." She shrugs her shoulders. "I, myself, don't see how anyone could /not/ want to be part of the Weyr. But then, I've never been anywhere else." She laughs, content with her lot thus far in life. Surprised; "Never? Not even to-- visit? A gather?" Madilla's eyes have grown wide at the idea, and she shakes her head, mystified. "The weyr is very different from other places. I was born in a tiny, remote hold in the middle of nowhere, and even with the Hall between leaving there and coming here, the adjustment was..." She swallows. "Intense? So I do feel for them, very much. I suppose some of them may be happier in Holds, though. I heard-- well. I heard that some of them have /Blood/." Sibella shrugs again. "No one to visit. Sire and dam were dragonriders, long gone. And gathers... why, that's the best time to be in the Weyr, all nice and quiet." She folds her hands over her bosom, shifting into a more comfortable lounge-like position. At this last sentence of the healer's, however, she raises a brow and seems a bit less relaxed. "Blood? Amongst the exiles? Could that really be reliable information?"
Sibella wrinkles her nose at this. "Who /would?/ Want to be a Lady, I mean. Having to deal with a stuffy old man who uses you for babies and a ton of other women for bedding, having to run a Hold. But then, that's what I assume it'd be like. Like being a Weyrwoman with less authority." A finger strays into a blonde lock and begins to twirl. "But you know... aren't the watch-whers supposed to be able to distinguish anyone with the Blood of their Hold?" "I wouldn't want to be a Lady or a Weyrwoman," admits Madilla, not without a wry smile. "I'm perfectly happy as a simple healer, with no one remarking on what I wear, or who I spend time with, or-- any of that." Her brows raise at the rest of what Sibella has to say, and, "I've never heard of that. I don't understand how they could. But," she allows, "there are a lot of things I don't know. I've never even seen a watch-wher." A chuckle escapes before Sibella laughingly replies, "Well, you know I haven't, either. What business would a little Weyr baker have roaming the mountains looking for whers? Still," she smiles, "It does help to be rather well-read. Fortunately, the harpers here have an extensive collection of volumes." Sibella leans forward to tug at Madilla's hem. "And, Maddy, I don't think anyone could argue that your clothes are completely suited to someone with hard, long hours of work." Madilla nods, though it's obvious from her expression that she's not entirely certain whether she believes this of watch-whers; still, what would she know? Her smile turns broader, more amused, as her hem is tugged, and she laughs: "Well, true. A person has to be practical." It's then that she seems to remember herself, drawing herself back to her feet with a rueful grimace. "You seem well recovered? I hate to run, but-- I'm due back in the infirmary. You'll come back and see me there, if any symptoms persist?" Sibella twitches the corner of her mouth into a smile, then seems to gain her bearings in a manner similar to Madilla. The kitchen seemed even more frenzied than before; and with good reason- dinner time! "Oh, I've got work to do as well!" Sibella jumps to her feet, then braces herself. Fortunately, she is relieved to find that her head isn't rocking and the room isn't spinning. Another smile to Madilla, "Thank you very much, Journeyman Healer Madilla. I don't know what I'd have done without you. Of course I'll come visit, anyway." And with this, she quite rudely dives into the masses to help with the meal rush. Genuinely; "It was my pleasure. I'm sure I'll see you soon." Madilla takes her leave without another word, hurrying back off towards the caverns. Whatever her initial errand was, it has apparently been long forgotten. |
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