Difference between revisions of "Logs:Awkward Meetings"

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.

It's evening, and Jaques is at rest, settled on one end of a sofa with a handful of hides in front of him. They're easy enough to read, even from afar, because the neat, large writing on them is mostly phonics charts and simple words, which he is mouthing silent to himself as he sounds them out.

Madilla's been back for a few days, now, but her skin still shows the warm flush of summer. The healer makes her way from one of the corridors, knotting a white apron over her no-nonsense clothes as she walks, though instead of heading towards the caverns and the infirmary beyond, she sidles instead towards a seat near the hearth. Her gaze falls on Jaques, and though she doesn't address him, there's visible sympathy in her expression as - presumably - she ascertains what he's doing.

After a while, Jaques rubs his eyes like he has a headache oncoming, and he sets aside his reading lesson to look up. He's surprised to find someone else so close; and he pinkens just a little at the tips of his ears for all he offers her a small smile. "Evening."

"I'm sorry," says Madilla, immediately; her own cheeks flush in response. "I didn't mean to startle you. Hello." Despite the embarrassment, she gives the younger man a genuine smile. "I-- saw what you were working on. Reading. I had to learn as an adult, too. Well." She pauses a beat, awkward again. "I was thirteen. But that felt old enough."

"Oh, no. Not your fault," Jaques waves that much off, though his mouth tilts wryly. It's only more awkward when he notes, "I'm twenty, or near enough, anyway." There's a shrug, though, that follows before he folds up his lessons and scoots them a little further away. "It seems kind of pointless now, but Da says it's important here."

Madilla corrects herself, hastily, "I didn't mean to make it sound like I thought you were as young as I was." The awkwardness is-- almost adorable. Maybe actually adorable. She draws her knees towards her chin, smoothing her skirt over them so that her legs remain covered. "It helps. Here. I had to learn when I arrived at the Hall, but I think most people have to learn when they come here, too. It's not easy, though." Beat. "I'm sorry, I haven't even introduced myself. Madilla."

"No, no. I didn't mean to imply--" Jaques is nearly as hasty to correct her impressions of him. "Only--. Well. I'm Jaques." He lifts his shoulders faintly, a diffident gesture. After a study of her knot that takes longer than it probably should, too, "You're... Healer? Journeyman?"

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Jaques," says Madilla, genuinely; she's still smiling. "Journeyman Healer, yes. I'd say, uh, 'good job picking that', or something, but it might come across like I was being patronizing? I don't mean to me. I remember how much it can be to learn, when there's so much new at once." She swallows.

"Healer is an easy one," says Jaques, with a smile that turns faintly sad. He settles back into his couch more comfortably"We've seen so many of them. And you look... familiar, a little. From the infirmary, I suppose. Harper's easy, too; but the rest of them, not so much and I always have to sit and count the loops and tassels and--." He gestures at his own shoulder, vaguely.

Madilla's smile falters, and she ducks her head, nodding only slowly. "Yes-- I'm sorry." She has to suck in a breath and force a smile back on her face before she can continue, admitting, "It's not always the easiest system to read. And it feels awkward, staring at people's shoulders all the time. It does get easier, though, until it just feels... natural."

Her faltering expression makes Jaques duck his head, embarrassed on both their behalves. He gives it a moment, then notes, "It was a lot easier when I knew everyone already. At least then I knew if I was insulting someone, being too casual. Do you like it here?" The question's abrupt, but earnest, and he glances up to give her another long look. "I mean, I gather you're not from here originally, so--."

"For me, too," admits Madilla, expression wry for the admission. She plays with the edge of her skirt as she talks, gaze flicking from Jaques to her own knees and back again at regular intervals. "I do. Like it here. It took a lot of getting used to - I think my home had more in common with yours than with the weyr, though... it's not like we were trapped on an island or anything. It was hard. But High Reaches is home, now. My daughter--" she swallows, expression briefly sad. "has family here."

That last, Jaques latches on to, for common ground. "It's much bigger than I ever imagined. The whole world. Everyone is complaining about not being allowed to leave and I think I could live the rest of my life here and not know the place properly," he admits, though his brows knit slightly at the change in her expression. "My wife, Evie, finds it all more overwhelming. It's--just us; no children now."

"The weyr is enormous," allows Madilla, smiling ruefully. "And just outside, you can see down and down and down for-- miles. Later, perhaps they'll let you go flying outside, and then you can see it even better." Something twists in her expression at mention of Evie; it may well be recognition, though she's careful not to show too much. "It must be very difficult. I hope she... settles in, soon? I hope you all do."

"Can you?" Jaques doesn't sound settled about that, grimacing as he looks away. "Getting here was bad enough; I'm rather content with my feet here on the ground. Though, I suppose if we should impress--those of us who are standing, anyway." Beat. He runs a hand through his hair and cuts his eyes back toward her. "She's... better, at any rate. Her and Mother both. It's been difficult; I expect you know that better than most, though."

Visible surprise lingers about Madilla's expression, matched with uncertainty, as Jaques talks about Impression. She's too polite to ask whatever that question is, however, and instead remarks, as she smoothes her expression, "I suppose I do. I can't even-- it's all been very difficult. I'm glad to hear she's doing better. Perhaps Standing will give her something else to think about. Some kind of-- structure? Focus. Something."

Jaques hesitates. "Something," he finally agrees, because that seems safe enough. It's enough about him and his, apparently, so instead, he asks, "How old is your--daughter, did you say?" Because moms love talking about their kids.

Madilla is no different from most mothers in that, given the opportunity, she's more than happy to talk about her child - oh yes. "Lilabet. She's just turned three. I'm going to be awful and admit that I can't believe how quickly she's grown up." She is, at least, aware of herself; aware, too, probably, of the raptuous expression on her face.

"My oldest sister has one that age," says Jaques, with a faint smile for her enthusiasm. "She gets the same expression when someone tells her how beautiful Nivae is. They do seem to grow quickly at that age; you and your--" He only catches himself a little short, from the habit; these immoral Weyrfolk. Blandly, instead, "You must be very happy."

A shadow falls over Madilla's expression - again - at the thing that Jaques doesn't quite say; it seems to make her uncomfortable, though it's not really easy to determine /why/. "We are," she agrees, firmly. "I'd like another one, one day, but-- I suppose that's neither here nor there. will you and Evie," she pauses, awkward again. "Try again? If you don't Impress?" She's sorry about their loss: she doesn't say it, but it is written in her face nonetheless.

Jaques must know, what she really means; only, "Maybe; with so many golds I understand you'll shortly be overrun with hatchings." His smile is a little tight around the edges, though genuine enough otherwise.

Ruefully; "The concern of that has been raised. Perhaps you'll all have a few more chances before you're too old, true." Madilla's tone is neutral as she says that last bit, neither approving or disapproving; it's actually surprising detached, really, given her earlier emotions in one direction or another. She hesitates - and then starts to stand. "I'm due in the infirmary in a few minutes; I should leave you to it. It was nice to meet you, Jaques."

"And you," Jaques murmurs politely in return. He lets the former comments go unanswered, and while he reaches for his homework again, he doesn't open it up or rejoin the lessons, and instead watches her back pensively when she does go.