Difference between revisions of "Logs:Playing Hooky"

Meadow Near Fort Hold

Set apart from the main hold, this meadow offers an inviting respite from the bustle of Hold life. Lush and verdant grasses and grains grow rampant and abundant in this peaceful and tranquil meadow. Shaded by a copse of softwood and evergreen trees, the light is dappled and freckled where it warms the ground. At certain hours of the day, small woodland creatures emerge from the small forest and may be seen frolicking about in the grasses. Paths lead back toward the hold, winding their way along near the inner edge of the orchards before returning to the white stone so familiar to the Hold's courtyard and main halls.

Some might call it the perfect summer day, even with that hint of mugginess in the air. It could just be an excuse for lazing around in the shade and enjoying the nice warm weather. At least one rider's gotten the idea that sitting in the sun and taking a break is the thing to do today: T'rev leans back against Mecaith, the dragon drowsing, the rider sitting with one leg stretched out before him, the other partly drawn up towards his chest. Barefoot and bare-chested though his shirt still drapes his shoulders, T'rev's attention is fixed on the book that leans upright against that drawn-up thigh and now and then he sings snatches of a lightweight tune around the blade of grass that sticks out of the corner of his mouth.

Across the far side of the meadow, Madilla's hat is the first thing likely to be visible: a broad-brimmed affair that puts most of her face in shadow. The Apprentice's pace is a lazy, meandering one, which halts every so often to allow her an opportunity to pluck wildflowers and add them to a bundle in her hand. After one such pause, she tips her gaze upwards, holding on to her hat with her free hand to give her a better view ahead of her, out towards the lazing pair; it's hard to see her expression, given the hat's shade, but whatever she sees sends her traipsing closer.

With Mecaith asleep, T'rev doesn't pick up on the nearing apprentice right away. A page is turned and he laughs out loud at whatever he's just read, a merry sound that echoes across the meadow's open space. Grinning still, his head tips back against the somnolent dragon and it's then that he spots hat first and his smile widens all the more for the sight. Two fingers are left inside the book, but the rider lets it fall shut and it dangles alongside his leg, forearm draped atop his knee as he watches Madilla approach. "Hey there," he hails her as she gets within range for the sunny greeting. "Lovely day, ain't it?"

By the time she's close enough for that greeting, Madilla's also close enough that her blush is probably visible, despite the cover of that hat. She comes to an awkward halt, admitting, "I'm sorry-- I was trying to work out if you were someone I know. But you're not, and--" She breaks off, and then manages a smile, tipping her hat back enough that she can get a better look at T'rev, before; "You're right, though. It /is/ a lovely day. Far too lovely to be indoors, at any rate."

That blush is taken note of but only acknowledged by the slight uptilting of one corner of T'rev's mouth as he pushes up to his feet, one hand dropping to brace against Mecaith's bulk. "S'alright, though I got t'say, that's probably the first time someone's mistaken me for someone else," he says with a laugh and looks up at the sky. "Yeah, figured I'd sneak out and take advantage of the sun for a little while. Are you collectin' for fun or for a class?" he inquires with a nod towards Madilla's basket.

That first remark deepens Madilla's blush, though she manages not to lose her smile in the process; it turns crooked instead, head dipping forward in a gesture that is somehow both awkward and rueful. "For fun," she says, with a glance down at her collection. "I'm not sure there's a medicinally valuable one amongst them... but they smell nice, so I'll dry them and keep them for that." A beat, and then, "I had an exam this morning, and there's more tomorrow, but... I think everyone needs to, as you put it, sneak out every so often. Madilla. Senior Apprentice Healer-- but I suppose you worked that one out already?"

"Havin' a little fun is definitely called for if you've been havin' to sit for exams on a day like today," T'rev says sincerely and smiles at the apprentice warmly, holds out his free hand. "Either Harper or Healer usually 'round here and you didn't strike me as a local cotholder," he notes and his own smile turns lopsided. "T'rev," a little nod over his shoulder towards his dragon, "and this here's Mecaith, though he's gettin' in a rest just now or I'd introduce you proper-like." His fingers slip out of the book in his other hand and let it fall fully shut, tucked up under his arm. "Just don't tell the Weyrwoman I'm playin' hooky, okay?" and he winks in the wake of that little quip.

Madilla lets go of her hat, which, for the moment, stays neatly in place despite not being held on to, so she can extend that hand to meet T'rev's, her grip neither overly firm or too shyly soft. T'rev's name brings a flicker of recognition to her features, though she doesn't remark on that outright, instead promising, in mock solemnity, "Should Weyrwoman Cirse's path and mine ever cross, I'll never tell." Her lips twitch, and then she adds, "Pleasure to meet you, anyway. I suppose it is an easy assumption to make: Harper or Healer, around here. I'm posted at High Reaches, usually, so I forget what it's like."

T'rev's own grip is firm but not in danger of breaking the healer's fingers. "Thank you kindly, she's got quite the 'look' on her when she's displeased with a person," the weyrleader says with a broad grin, "and I'd rather not have it turned on me for a bit." His hand drops back to his side, gaze dropping to the healer's basket for a moment. "Good t'meet you too and those are a pretty bunch of flowers." T'rev's gaze lifts at mention of the Reaches though. "Ahh, got some good friends up there. L'vae and Leova among 'em. It's been a while since I've been up to visit though with things bein' what they are down here lately."

"I understand." Madilla's tone is serious, her smile distinctly less so. She lets her own hand drop back towards her side, looking positively pleased at the compliment on her flowers. It's mention of Leova and L'vae, though, that has her opening her mouth next: "Oh! I know Leova - we're friends. Have been for turns, now. I know L'vae, too, though not quite so well." Her smile teeters as she adds, "I keep hearing about how things are... I'm sorry, it sounds awful. It's upsetting, how awful some people are. People should just be... nicer."

T'rev looks up, nodding, smile warm again. "Known Leova for a good long while m'self, met L'vae through her, actually. And Mecaith and Vrianth are -- or were, I should say, close." For a moment his gaze shades thoughtful, a contemplative look cast towards the sleeping bronze who stirs a little, but doesn't wake. "I agree, they absolutely should. Wish they could hear that and understand it." The weyrleader reaches over to tuck his book away in the bag that slumps down in the grass, then gestures out towards the field. "It's too nice of a day to get all fussed up about that stuff though. Want some help with the flowers?"

'Were' close, and the glance towards Mecaith, draws a more thoughtful expression towards Madilla's face, but she doesn't remark on it. Instead, she lets her gaze follow T'rev's gesture outwards, and she smiles; "I'd like that, thank you. You're right: it's far too lovely out to think too seriously on things. It'd be a waste of a stolen afternoon." She takes a few steps onwards, then pauses to turn her attention back and add, "I do hope it all gets worked out soon, though."

Though Madilla doesn't remark, T'rev catches that look and his smile when it curls up the corners of his mouth, turns wry. "Catchin' Peirith changed a lot of things," he notes mildly and turns to follow the apprentice, fingers dropping to do up his buttons as he goes. "Hope so too, pretty much doin' all we can at this point, unless someone can come up with a brilliant idea. Y'know, somethin' other than flamin' their boats to bits."

Sympathy floods Madilla's expression at this explanation, and her head bobs several times slowly. "I'm sorry," she says, then, though adds hastily, "Not that he caught her-- but that it changed things. I suppose it must. But I would think it would be difficult, nonetheless." She leans down to snap off some more blossoms with her fingers, considering them as she raises them to her nose to sniff as she says, "I suppose there'd be some-- satisfaction in the flaming. Even if not politically wise. I suppose. Better you than me, though, having to deal with all of that. It makes my head hurt: I think I'll stick to my healing."

T'rev's hands slide into his pockets once his shirt is all done up and he ambles along at an easy pace, bare feet apparently not at all inconvenienced by the meadow grass, though he does walk on the careful side, an eye ahead. "Yeah, something like that can't help but change a thing or two. Not that they're not still friendly but it's different and dragons don't remember long. I don't think he's started to forget yet, but it'd be good to visit again sometime soon," T'rev explains and pauses by some nodding belled blooms, hunkering down to pick them with stems long. "Heh, would be pretty satisfyin' yeah, to just let the dragons flame away if they catch any of 'em. But I kinda see that as a last resort." T'rev holds the blossoms out to the healer. "These ones smell pretty good, even if I don't know what they're called. And y'know, generally would rather folks didn't have to think about it and we need our healers thinkin' about healin'."

"I'm sure she'd like to see you," says Madilla, warmly. "And Vrianth, Mecaith. If you can spare the time to get away, of course." She accepts the blossoms, holding them up to her own nose to give them a long sniff before she adds them to the basket. "I'd hope so," she says of flaming those at fault, her nose wrinkling. "Admittedly, I just don't like the idea of hurting anyone, whatever they've done." She provides the name of the blossoms in question a moment later, casually, evidently as knowledgeable about non-medicinal plants as she is about those she uses at work. Continuing, she adds, "Absolutely. It's better when politics don't bleed into everything else, so we can all just concentrate on what we do best. Life isn't quite that simple though, I suppose."

"We write a little," T'rev says of Leova with a grin, "was actually meanin' more Mecaith and Vrianth. Though of course they can just talk whenever they like." He nods though at mention of not hurting people as he straightens up and starts to move along a bit more. "Good quality to have for a healer, I'd say. And that's a pretty name to go with pretty blooms." His hands tuck back into his pockets and he tilts a look upward. "Nope, it isn't and I'm still tryin' to figure out why some folks think politics're fun."

"Oh!" Madilla turns pink again, but smiles all the same. "Of course." She ducks her head towards another patch of blossoms, though ultimately bypasses them: evidently they don't pass the sniff test, despite being pretty. "You'd think so. Some of the younger apprentices... the boys in particular. They really seem to /relish/ people being hurt. Blood and guts. I suppose that's a little different from wanting to hurt people, though, even so. It /is/ a pretty name," she agrees, then, pleased. "I find it kind of interesting, the way some plants have really logical names: redwort, and numbweed, and so on. While others... just something pretty." Beat. "Some people just like a competition, I think, and that's what politics is... to some degree, I suppose."

Eyeing a patch of yellow up ahead, T'rev angles that way slightly and makes no comment about that renewed blush. "Yeah, I guess bein' excited about fixin' a person up can be a good thing to have goin' for you if you're a healer too," he muses and tilts his head, listening about the names. "Maybe when folks were comin' up with the names for things, if a plant was pretty the name was all about how it made the person feel instead of what it was used for ..." he pauses and hunkers down again, untangles some of this sunnily star-shaped blooms to tilt towards the apprentice. "Sure. A lot of it is like a big game of poker."

"It can be," agrees Madilla. "Though I've never... well. I can't get excited about it, because I hate the idea of anyone being in pain. I try and avoid seeing things as fascinating, in my work, because... it feels like taking advantage of someone." She's got her head ducked forward as she says this, her attention focused upon the plants around her, though, as T'rev offers up his blossoms, she scuttles over to accept them with a smile. "That makes some sense," she adds, then, of the naming of plants. "Pretty things with names that make you feel happy." Ruefully, she adds, "A big game of poker. A high stakes one, too. An interesting way to put it."

Leaning back a little on his heels, T'rev looks up at Madilla curiously. "Sort of ... not makin' people into things?" he questions about the whole fascination aspect then he blows out a breath and nods, looks back down at the flowers. "Highest stakes ever. People's lives, not just tokens or marks." The stem is snapped and the branch of flowers offered up. "I play a lotta poker. Like it for a game for fun, not so sure about the politics though."

Accepting the branch, Madilla places it carefully into her basket as she nods. "Not making people into things - yes. It's too easy for healers to take that step back and forget. Of course... we have to be careful, too, not to get too emotionally involved with our patients, but that doesn't mean we can't see them as people." Her smile is a faint one, rueful again as she adjusts her hat. "So there is a similarity between your job and mine: remembering the people. You're not happy being Weyrleader, then? Or just uncomfortable with that side of it?"

"Hard line to walk that," T'rev says slowly, thoughtfully. "Between not gettin' too close and not too far at the same time." He looks off across the meadow towards the trees in the orchard. "My foster-daughter's an apprentice right now. She's posted back up to Fort. I wonder if that's something she'll have trouble with." He takes a breath looks back over at the healer with a rueful smile. "I guess it's just something that I've been strugglin' to learn right and I've tripped up a lot and ... no I don't like makin' so many mistakes."

"It is." And something in the solemnity Madilla's expression shows indicates that she's had personal problems with this particular line. "Is she? I'm sure-- we all work it out, eventually, in our own time. How to deal. Some manage it better than others, I'm afraid, and I had-- well. It's been hard at times." She tips her head into a slow nod at the rest of what he has to say, genuine compassion writ firmly into the cant of her head and the emotions in her gaze. "No, I'm sure. It must be difficult. But I imagine it's something that will get easier, over time."

"Yeah, she's a strong girl, Ella," T'rev notes with a smile that's clearly fond. "I'm sure she'll get it sorted out, but thanks for bringing it up - now I know to kind of keep an eye out for that kind of thing maybe weighin' on her mind. She's turning thirteen in a few days, still at the start of her apprenticeship. Sometimes I almost wish she'd stayed at the Hall longer so she'd have others or more others around to talk to about these things." He dusts his hands off on his pants, nods towards another area of the meadow that's thick with different colored flowers. "Yeah it just takes some gettin' used to," T'rev agrees. "I just hope that I don't make too bad of a hash of the whole thing and leave the Weyr better than it was before I was Weyrleader when the baton gets passed."

Warmly, Madilla says, "I'm sure she will, too. And if she does have problems... I'm sure her superiors will be able to help. But if she wanted to talk to someone who's been through it more recently, I'd be happy to help out." It's an offer that is apparently intended to be genuine, though it's said awkwardly; shyly, even. "That's young to be posted," she agrees. "I was fifteen, a turn and a half into my Apprenticeship, when I was. I'm sure she'll be fine, though." Moving along through the meadow - and pausing to pick a few blossoms of her own - she adds, "I'm sure you won't. You seem... well. You're taking it seriously, at least. I think that's important."

"That's real kind of you to offer," T'rev says sincerely, "I'll keep that in mind if it comes up," the Weyrleader says with an encouraging smile for the healer. "Yeah, she worked in the infirmary as an aide for a bit so she did well enough on exams to post back to the Weyr after only half a turn at the Hall," he explains. "And it is sort of like bein' posted back home. But that's a long story that I'm not sure is really my place t'explain," he notes further about his ward and runs a hand through his hair. "Couldn't not, y'know. Take it seriously," T'rev says with a shake of his head. "Way I see it, anyone who gets to be a leader, you have to take responsibility for it."

Madilla merely nods to this explanation of a story that's not his place to explain; she doesn't seem terribly curious, even, saying only, "Of course. Well - good for her, to do so well on her exams. I'm sure her Journeymen know what they're doing, and it must be nice for her, to be posted home like that. But of course: it's my pleasure." To offer. She holds up a few more blossoms to her nose to sniff, smiling as she does so, "I think you're right. Anyone who doesn't? Well. They shouldn't be a leader in the first place. So it's encouraging, that our leaders /do/ care."

"Yeah, it's good to have her home too." T'rev drops back to that subject briefly then chuckles softly. "Yeah. Supposed to inspire confidence and all that. And I can say with some confidence that the Weyrleaders at the Reaches care. K'del's young but he's got a decent head on his shoulders. And for all Tiriana can be a prickly bitch, she's fierce about protectin' what's hers," is his take on the more northerly Weyr.

Madilla's nod is a silent one: she can imagine, no doubt, how good it must be. She smiles at T'rev indulgently, though her expression slides more serious again as he continues. "I think you're right," she says of her own Weyrleaders. "Tiriana's not so bad-- if you can get beneath the prickles. There's no doubt she cares. And K'del, too." There's fondness in her expression there, too, though she lets it slide so that she can add, "I do feel sorry for him. He's no older than I am, and yet he's been doing this for two turns. But he's doing all right, as far as I can see."

"Yeah. About some things, she does," T'rev says neutrally of the Reaches' Weyrwoman. "Just never want to get on her bad side, that's for sure." He grins about K'del though, nods. "We get along pretty well, K'del and me. And I was there for that flight. Talkin' to Leova in fact, when Mecaith decided it'd be a good idea to chase Iovniath. Crazy times," he notes humorously. "And yeah, it's hard enough to catch that much responsibility when you're on the younger side, that much harder when you're /that/ young. I was a wingleader for several turns before Mecaith caught Peirith, so, y'know, bein' in charge isn't that strange to me. It's more the dealin' with folks outside of the Weyr." Beat. "The politics."

"It was..." Madilla breaks off, then smiles crookedly. "An interesting night." She doesn't volunteer anything further of her own experiences from that night, continuing on to add, a moment later, "It would be. Being that young. I can't imagine... I've been a healer since I was thirteen, and it took until not so long ago before the idea of being a Journeyman didn't terrify me completely. I can't imagine jumping straight from this to Craftmaster." She tips her head forward, transferring her basket from one arm to the other, "The politics. Always that. I suppose all Leaders were inexperienced once, though, so you all... have to learn. Make mistakes, first."

"Ah yeah. Interesting's a good word for it," T'rev replies, tone definitely wry as he continues to walk along. "Yeah, all the more reason not to search too young," he notes and smiles over at the apprentice. "You seem like you've got a good head on your shoulders though if for some reason you did have to make that leap," he compliments. "Sure, everyone starts out somewhere. Just usually a good idea to step up to it gradually. K'del didn't even get that." He pauses, because there's a bright red bloom capturing his attention. "Wow, now that's some color, huh?"

"Difficult, though," muses Madilla, sounding thoughtful. "The older you search, the more likely people are to be settled in to a craft, a job, a family. Though I suppose there are plenty who're still at liberty to say yes, and want to, and it's easier, given how much smaller clutches are now." She seems pleased by the compliment, bobbing her head though she notes, "Thankfully, there's no chance of it, in my line of work. But I appreciate the vote of confidence." Her bob of the head towards the rest is interrupted by the discover of the red flower, eyes brightening: "Oh, how lovely! Some of these... it seems a shame to pick them. The colour never lasts."

"Somewhat, but slightly older is easier for training too, I gather. I mean, in a lot of ways, it's pretty nuts to put kids up there on a dragon, or even to ask them to try to impress when they don't really know who they are yet." He smiles though at her delight about the flower. "Red's my favorite color, like this though," he touches the surface of his shirt then bends to push some grass aside. "D'you want to pick this one or leave it?"

After a moment of thoughtful consideration, Madilla agrees, "I suppose that's true. It's not as though you can just drop out later. Then again, does anyone really regret Impression?" It's a genuine question, though she seems certain enough of the answer that she doesn't pause before adding, "I suppose it's finding the happy balance. After they've worked out who they are, before they're too settled to be willing to start over again." She considers the flower, and T'rev's shirt, then says, "No, leave it. Let it be pretty a while longer. I like red, too. I like most bright colours, though." Not that you'd know it from the brown she wears.

"No, not really, not most," T'rev says with a shake of his head, "but kids below a certain age don't necessarily make good riders within the turn or so that training takes. I mean, it really is kind of like sayin' that you can be a journeyman at fourteen or fifteen on the way lower end, so you know, I think that searching a little older is a good idea. Exactly, a bit settled but not so settled that it'd upend things. I was seventeen when I Impressed m'self, think that's a pretty decent age for it." He smiles up at her, still holding the grasses aside for a bit, before letting them go. "My drawers are full of almost nothin' but, except I like it kind of rustier. I've got an orange hat for winter though."

Madilla makes a face. "I suppose that's true. You're just not... /ready/ for it, I suppose, at that age. The responsibility." She breaks off from that thought to smile, adding, "So I see your point, definitely. It's a bit strange for me, watching people I knew as candidates end up as riders, when I'm still plodding away at my apprenticeship after turns." She lets her gaze linger on the red flower for a few moments more, as she says, "Orange! I think red suits you, though." And off she goes again, to gather up a few more flowers before it's time to, reluctantly, head back towards the Hall and her study, ready for tomorrow's exams.

"Hard to figure the rest of yourself out when you've got another person in your head," is more T'rev's view on it and casts Madilla a somwhat sympathetic look. "Yeah, that must be all kinds of odd. It goes by fast the training and then the expectation is that you'll operate at roughly the same level as a journeyman in a craft would." Straightening up, T'rev laughs and nods. "Yeah, it's very bright. But I think it's cheerful and the mittens that go with it belonged to someone I cared about a lot, so." He smiles again just a little and wanders a bit more, picking the odd flower and turning the conversation to lighter topics: differences in weather between Fort and the Reaches, a little bit about his younger daughter and the funny things toddlers say. When it's time for Madilla to go he sweeps her an exaggerated bow, meant to elicit laughter, winks on the way back up. "Thanks for the company Madilla. It's made an afternoon of playin' hooky all the more fun. I hope I get to talk with you again sometime." Mecaith rouses as the apprentice is walking back across the meadow, bronze head lifted to watch her with close attention. The weyrleader lifts a hand to stroke up along the dragon's jaw, then he fishes his boots out from somewhere and his jacket and pulls both on to strap Mecaith up so they can both head back to the Weyr.

"I'd like that," says Madilla, of chatting to the Weyrleader again, her words clearly genuine. "It /was/ fun. She gives Mecaith a warm smile, and then T'rev another, before off she wanders, basket in hand, back towards the Hall.