Difference between revisions of "Logs:Because Of Them"

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.

Most of the weyr is eating their dinner in the caverns, or the Snowasis, or perhaps even outside given how nice the weather is, but Madilla's got hers cornered in one of the kitchen nooks, where she is, for the moment, left to her own devices. She's probably halfway finished, though it's slow progress, given that she's got a book open beside her plate and seems to have put most of her attention onto it, instead.

Outside isn't a place where Teris spends all that much time judging by the general lack of sunlight on her skin. At least compared to the more outdoorsy sorts of the Weyr. She comes into the kitchen from the storerooms, a clip board held against her chest as she moves along a practiced path to get herself a mug of klah. The look around for somewhere to sit is less practiced but her attention settles on a certain healer and then she's heading that way. "Madilla," she greets as she settles across from the distracted one.

Madilla mouths along the words as she reads, as is her usual practice, and idly reaches for her bread roll. Teris' greeting, however, pauses both activities, the dark-haired healer glancing up, blinking, in surprise. It's with a smile, if not an enthusiastically bright one, that she returns the greeting, however: "Good evening, Teris." At the very least, the distraction results in her giving her plate another glance, and then, in her picking up her fork once more.

The smile Teris offers is bright, but not entirely sincere. "How are you doing?" she asks before lifting her mug up to take a careful sip of her klah. A glance is spared the book and she adds curiously, "Studying? Or is this some leisure activity of yours?"

"I'm--" Madilla hesitates before answering, as though deliberating between answers of the 'honest' and 'polite' type. She apparently settles on the latter, because what she says after a moment more is, "Not too bad. As these things go. How about you, Teris?" Of the book, she adds only, "Oh, no, just study. I'm trying to get ahead, if I can."

"Not too bad," Teris repeats thoughtfully as she arches a doubtful brow at the healer. "I'm quite well, thank you. Someone has been rearranging things in the stores. Damned riders seem to think they can just do whatever they like and not worry about where things actually go." A minor peeve of hers. Or minor, at least, as far as peeves and Teris go.

Madilla's cheeks go faintly pink at the repetition of her own words, but she repeats, more firmly this time, "Not too bad. I'm glad you're well, though. Aside from..." She frowns at this whole peeve of Teris', head shaking. "That's not very nice of them. I'd be-- it'd be awful, if someone did that to all of our herbs in the infirmary. Or the medicines. I suppose the stores are open to everyone, but... they should be tidy about it, at least."

Teris hmms a sound in her throat in that 'if you say so' sort of way. "Good. I'm glad. Although I think rearranging things in the infirmary would be a worse offense by far. What if you gave someone the wrong thing and they died? That would just be horrible." Nevermind that she smiles. "That doesn't happen very often, does it? Do you -have- anything in there that could be fatal?" Markedly more curious now on this new line of thought.

Madilla ducks her head down so that her eyes are looking more at her plate than at Teris, in the wake of that sound the other woman makes. Her own laugh is slightly more awkward, because - "Oh, that /would/ be awful, wouldn't it? I-- the fellis, and the strong painkillers are kept locked up, so at least that wouldn't happen. But some of the remedies we used can only be used in small doses, safely, and some... well, giving certain things to a pregnant woman would be awful, too." Beat. Awkwardly, "No, it doesn't really happen. No."

"The fellis. Painkillers. Locked, hmm?" Teris really shouldn't look that thoughtful but she does. And there's a decided lack of shame for it. Then she snaps out of her little reverie and smiles, "Good. That's good to hear. Wonderful. So..." She falls silent to sip at her klah again, considering the healer intently.

Madilla's head is partially tilted to the side, her gaze lifted back towards Teris, and her expression is less thoughtful and more awkward. Uncertain. But; "Yes, I suppose it is." Then she, too, seems to run out of things to say, and glances back at her plate, at the forkful of food she's abandoned, which she now reclaims, because, well, /chewing/ means she can't possibly say anything, right?

This is lovely. Really. Except Teris is starting to look almost impatient for whatever her reasons. "You don't dislike me because of -them,- do you?" How's that for leaping to conclusions? "Because I'm not sure that would be entirely fair." The blonde tilts her head slightly, glancing down at Madilla's plate, then back up.

/That/ makes Madilla's gaze shoot up instantly, eyes wide, cheeks pink. She swallows hurriedly. "No!" Beat. "I don't dislike you at all. I don't really know you, though, and everything is--" She hesitates. "Everything is very awkward at the moment. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you think-- Truly, I don't dislike you."

Her smile slips back into place when Madilla says she doesn't dislike her. All better. "I don't dislike you, either," Teris returns just in case it matters. Still smiling she adds, "Men are bastards. And morons." Like this will help everything. "Not that I don't think they have their uses, mind. But you're probably better off, you know?" This is Teris being reassuring.

Madilla doesn't seem to /entirely/ agree on what men are, but she manages a slight smile, all the same. "I don't know," she says, slowly, after a moment. "I still want a husband and family. So... now I'm back to square one on that, aren't I? But perhaps you're right. It's hard to know yet." Beat. "B'tal implied that you'd probably have children eventually, too?"

Teris manages not to look like she thinks Madilla is crazy but her smile does fade somewhat into something almost incredulous by the time her brother is mentioned. "Did he now? Was he... drunk? I just-- I don't see that happening anytime in the near... or distant future." She gives her head a small shake. "Anyway, square one isn't a bad place to be."

"Nooo," says Madilla, though hesitantly, as though she's now rethinking whether or not B'tal might have been drunk at all. "No, I don't think so. You - don't want them? Or you don't see it being possible?" She seems genuinely curious about this, setting down her fork again so that she can rest both forearms on the table, and lean forward just slightly. "Isn't it? I don't know. If I were... if I weren't an Apprentice, I'd be married and a mother, at home. Or even here, if I could manage it. It's what I want."

"He probably wasn't," Teris notes, almost disappointed. "He's just all-- well, sometimes gets to thinking. But no. I don't think I want them." Not a lot of detail from her on this but, for once, she looks a little uncertain. "If you really wanted to be married and a mother, Madilla, you wouldn't be an apprentice. You'd be wherever you'd be with some moronic husband and babies." Another sip of her klah, focusing more on this than anythign that has to do with herself.

There's something in Madilla's expression that suggests she's seen the uncertainty in Teris' face, but even if she did intend to comment on it, the rest of what gets said distracts her entirely. She stiffens, cheeks going distinctly red; she doesn't look happy. "That's not true," she says. Not sharply, but firmly, and with a note of passion to her voice. "I /want/ children. I want them now. But I can't. It's my duty to finish my apprenticeship, and anyway, I don't have anyone to marry." Anymore.

"Why did you even accept being an apprentice if you wanted this other stuff? I don't get it." Teris is rather sincere on this. She really doesn't get it. And the unhappy expression and firm words don't really seem to bother her. "And you certainly don't need to be married to be a mother. You only really need a man to help make them, after all." And this thought sets a twist in her lips, not quite distaste or uncertainty. "Otherwise they'd just get in the way, want to control everything."

Stiffly, "I was sent. My Uncle decided I was to be apprenticed, so I was." Madilla doesn't seem to find anything wrong with this, despite the stiffness. "That's true," she adds. "But I would rather do it the traditional way. That's what I agr--wan-- was hoping for. With W'chek. A family, and a home, and-- you must remember that I am Holdbred. If I can't have a husband, then I will do it the other way, but I know which I'd /rather/ have."

"Oh," Teris says and there's a brief frown before sympathy touches her features. "Do you enjoy it at least? Now that it's happened? You probably wouldn't be very good if you didn't enjoy it at least a little, right?" The blonde takes another drink of her klah then sets it aside to lean forward against the table. "I don't think I could ever trust a man not to be like my father. I couldn't do that. I wouldn't put children into that situation." A pause where she looks down, then back up. Being open is weird. "But I hope you find a good man, though, Madilla. And I'm sorry for my brother's part. He tends to think with his-- well, maybe he just doesn't think."

Madilla's head shakes rapidly, as, hurriedly, she reports, "Oh, no, I like it a lot. I love it. I'm glad he sent me, even if it meant-- putting things off. I wouldn't be here at all, if I hadn't Apprenticed." Though she looks thoughtful, perhaps even nostalgic, as she says this. More seriously, and more sad, is her expression as she responds to what gets said next: "I-- no. I suppose not. I'm sorry." More quietly, "You don't need to apologise for that. He says he wanted to tell me. I believe him. It's just-- it wasn't his fault."

"Good. It would be a shame if you didn't enjoy it. You seem good at it, too." So many nice words from Teris. She smiles and shakes her head. "You don't need to apologize either. And it may not have been his fault entirely, but he should have just backed off. Really. I don't understand why he can't just... control himself sometimes. It can't all really be that great, can it?" She's already decided on this so the question comes out a little rhetorical.

The compliment seems to please Madilla, because she smiles, her cheeks going faintly pink again. "I hope I am. I think so. I--" She breaks off from what she's trying to say, and is silent for a moment, apparently thinking. "They love each other. That's what-- W'chek said. I don't know. I can't imagine it being enough to justify, but--" She swallows, attempting another smile. "I don't know. I suppose I can't know, can I? But perhaps they can be happy, now."

"I can't really know either," Teris admits in an absent and slightly more quiet voice. "They better be happy." Firmer, like she might be rather more angry with them both if they aren't and it would be entirely unpleasant. "And you better end up even happier. Show those bastards up." She smiles then and it's more reassuring than any other she's offered yet.

Teris' firmness makes Madilla smile more broadly, after a moment's pause, and then she tells the older girl, "I'll do my best. I want to be happy. I'm going to be. Thank you." She drops a hand down to her plate, reaching for the breadroll again, probably because by now, the rest must be utterly disgusting. Hesitantly, "Did he tell you? Before? Which," hastily, "Is not me wanting to know because I think you should have told me. I'm just-- curious."

Teris frowns at the last, thoughtful, but she nods twice slowly. "I sort of made him tell me. He was so... torn. With Z'yi and all. Especially after the first time they broke it off. Whatever 'it' really was with them, I guess." Teris isn't impressed by whatever it was. But then she remembers who she's talking to and looks a little sheepish.

Madilla, though, doesn't seem offended, or bothered, or even anything more than just curious and thoughtful: she even nods along as Teris speaks. "A lot of things make more sense, now," she admits, quietly. "Now that I know the other side of what was going on. It was because of Z'yi that I found out." That's the first time that admission has been made. "Indirectly, anyway."

"I'm not sure what B'tal ever really saw in him. If anyone could--" But Teris shakes her head, reconsidering her words. "I wouldn't trust him. I don't trust him." That might not be saying much coming from her, however. "Indirectly?" that causes some curiosity but the's thoughtful herself.

"What he saw in Z'yi?" Madilla shakes her head. "I've only met him very briefly, and W'chek was so-- he didn't like me doing so. I haven't, since. Why don't you trust him?" Her head is tilted to the side; she still looks enormously thoughtful. "He told the Weyrwoman. Who told me. She was awful about it at first, but then-- I think when I cried she started feeling bad." Which apparently surprises and impresses the healer.

"B'tal is the biggest twit I've ever known," Teris will be the first person to say this. "But he was kind of harsh on him. I know my stories aren't from the best source. But still." Teris is the older sister. It's only natural for her to feel protective of her younger sibling. "He told the -Weyrwoman?- Wow." The last word is drawn out slightly, impressed and horrified all at the same time. "I'm sorry. Shards, that must have been even more awful."

Madilla was already looking surprised, albeit as a result of her own words, but if anything, she looks moreso, on Teris' proclamation about her brother. "I don't really know much about it," she admits, quietly. And then, "He did. I don't know why. I-- no, it was okay. It /was/ awful, and I thought she was lying at me, trying to dig at me, but-- she wasn't. But. At least she had the guts to come do it. I admire that, somehow. Even if it wasn't intended as a nice thing."

Teris frowns but doesn't try to explain what she knows about the boys. She can feel for her brother but that doesn't necessarily mean that she can understand any of it beyond that. "Well," she begins. "For the best. Better than no one knowing and you ending up tied to W'chek with his babies." Teris pauses for a moment, then asks, "Is there anything I can do?"

"For the best," agrees Madilla, sounding as though she's lost in her own thoughts, utterly vague. Though, a moment later, she adds, and it sounds very much like a correction, "Better than them having to live lies, because they can't admit the truth." As though, even now, she wouldn't object to being tied to W'chek and his babies. But as she carries on, she sounds more even toned, "No, I don't think so. But thank you."

"Why does it matter how they would have had to live? Really, sweetie, you could do with being a little more selfish. It's not like they haven't been." Teris might not be the best person to be talking about relationships with in general but at least she has opinions. She just nods to the last as though that's what she expected but felt some obligation to offer anyhow.

That makes Madilla frown. "I don't think anyone should have to live like that. I don't think-- they shouldn't've had to, to begin with. And I think it's sad. I'm sad for me, too, and for-- everything. But. I don't know." She seems to be struggling in putting words to her own thoughts, and ends up shaking her head. "I'm still getting used to it. How different things are, now."

Teris only nods her head as Madilla speaks, likely thinking it best not to say anything else for now. At least not until she's thought about whatever she lets come out of her mouth first. Finally, thoughtfully and with a small smile, "If he had more interest in girls, the three of you really would make an adorable family." Like that's the only thing she can think of that might keep that only a pleasant 'if.'

It makes Madilla blush, though. "I think I'd almost like that," she admits. "If. You know. But I suppose it can't happen." She looks thoughtful all over again, though, and then, finally, shakes her head as if to push the thought away. "I should go. My Journeyman wanted some company this evening. But." She hesitates, then smiles. "It was nice to talk to you again, Teris."

"Oh," Teris says, refocusing away from the conversation and the thoughts running through her head. "Of course. I should probably finish this inventory. Quieter now," she glances at the clip board, then back up. "You, too, Madilla. Have a good evening."

Madilla hesitates a moment more, as though there's one last thing she'd like to say, but if that's the case, she doesn't end up saying it. Instead, there's a quick bob of her head, a smile, and then she packs up her book and her dishes, and heads off again through the kitchen, then out towards the caverns.