Difference between revisions of "Logs:Trustworthy"

Nighthearth, High Reaches Weyr

With its entrance located between the kitchen and the living cavern, this tiny bubble cavern is cozy, always kept warm and is filled with comfortable chairs and a small round table. At the far end, there's a hearth, outlined in ruddy, aging bricks, where a pot of stew simmers in the evening hours. Generally quiet, the nighthearth is the haunt of insomniacs and those seeking quiet from the bustle of daily Weyr life.

Gabrion ambles into the night hearth area, bundled up in a heavy coat and scarf and hat - but, curiously, given the weather outside, he hasn't been snowed on at all. He peels off all the outer layers and piles them up on a chair, then goes to check out the pot on the fire and see what's in it.

Already nestled in one of the other nearby chairs, her head lowered intently towards the book she's reading, Madilla doesn't immediately notice Gabrion as he enters the nighthearth. As he heads for the fire, she evidently reaches a point in her book that she has to think about; as a result, her head lifts, gaze staring off into space-- space conveniently filled by both the other healer and the fire. "Oh," she says, though warmly; "Hello, Gabrion."

Gabrion evidently has decided the stew is satisfactory, for he ladles up a serving of it into a bowl, and turns to smile at Madilla. "Hi!" he says. "Did you know it's totally blizzarding outside? I was going to go for a walk. But there's no point. What're you reading?" He heads for a chair near hers and flops himself down in it.

Madilla shakes her head, admitting; "I haven't made it outside, today. I usually try to, but..." She got distracted. It's been a busy day. "I hope it doesn't keep snowing too long. It only really occurred to me a few days ago that this kind of weather would make it hard to get to and from home for the Dragonriders." She gives her book a glance, then returns her gaze to Gabrion as she explains, "A treatise on new methods for reducing scars. Which must sound awfully boring, I suppose."

"I didn't know you could do that," Gabe admits, "other than just by not getting hurt in the first place." He looks thoughtful. "How does it work?" He uses a spoon to shovel stew into his mouth with enthusiasm.

"There are a few different methods," Madilla explains, frowning thoughtfully as she speaks. "It's just... some people swear by some methods, and other people don't get results. It's very difficult to really determine results. Mostly, it's about keeping the skin from drying out, so things like olive oil and aloe vera seem to help."

"Maybe it depends on what color your skin is," Gabe suggests. "Some people have darker skin than others. Huh. Well. I have to meet with Syef tomorrow and we're going to pick which subjects I'm going to study for summer exams. I don't think I want to do skin, though."

Madilla considers, then nods. "That could be it. Or just... the healthiness of the skin to begin with? I suppose there are lots of factors." She shuts the book in her lap, smiling, as she adds, "No? No skin. That's probably fair. Do you have any particular ideas as to what you want to take?"

"I kind of want to do advanced first aid, but I bet they don't let me," Gabe says, wrinkling his nose. "So I don't really know. Anyhow, Syef has probably already decided what he wants me to take, so I bet I don't even get to pick in the first place." He doesn't sound more than mildly unhappy about that.

Sympathetically, Madilla says, "I'm sure you can indicate what you're interested in, at least. And Syef /wants/ you to succeed, so I bet he'll pick some decent things." She sounds pretty confident of this, smiling across at Gabe. "And if you don't get to do Advanced First Aid this time, there will be more subjects, after all." Beat. "Unless..." Her voice lowers as she says this, her brows raised. "But it's too soon for your plan, isn't it? You wanted to wait a few turns."

"Right, exactly, he does. I wasn't so sure about him making me do an extra subject last time, but it worked out," Gabe says, with confidence in his mentor if not in himself, so much. At the question, he sighs, and makes a face. "Well, yeah. I did. But if I wait, I'll probably only get one chance, you know? And a lot of people don't imrpess their first time. So... I have to try and, I don't know, figure it out. Maybe I should talk to Syef about it. He might not like it, though."

Quietly; "Because you made it work out. You did really well, Gabrion." Madilla's smile might be considered proud, except that, coming from her, it looks rather less condescending than it might otherwise. She bites her lip as he continues, nodding seriously. "Maybe you should. I suppose there's no way to know whether Iovniath will continue this cycle... and unless she clutches a queen, it's all so hard to know, I suppose. He may not be thrilled, though, no. So soon after your success, and your-- full apprentice status returned."

"I know," Gabe says, and scrunches up his face yet again. "But," he adds firmly, "I'm not abandoning the craft. I'm /not/. It's just - I just want to do something different than usual, that's all. People should be able to understand that, and not just automatically say No because it's different!" Grump.

There's a note of soothing to Madilla's reply, and she's smiling, though only barely. "I know," she says, firmly. "And I think, if you can properly explain what you want, and how you intend to do it, it won't be a problem. After all... Carobet accepted Search, and came back afterwards. And she was close to Journeyman at the time. I think you just need to prepare your case, and perhaps have the support of someone in the weyr."

"Carobet? Who's that?" Gabe asks, with a blank expression. "Did she impress?"

"She was an Apprentice Mindhealer," explains Madilla, abashed. "No, she didn't Impress. That was... Iovniath's first clutch. A little over two turns ago."

"Oh." Gabe is silent for a moment, thinking (and devouring stew - he can multitask). "Well. Yeah. I think you're right about getting someone's support. Maybe I should talk to the Weyrleader. He seems cool. Even Tiriana's not as bad as I thought. Well, at least not when there's rocks falling out of the sky," he adds with a smirk.

Madilla looks pleased, nodding firmly. "I think either of them would be worthwhile. I think you're right, too, on Tiriana... she improves. When you get to know her a little, at least." She runs her fingers across the top of her book, though doesn't make any particular effort to re-open it. "I hope it works out. Though I'll miss having you in the infirmary while you do your whirling training... if you Impress, I mean."

Gabrion grins. "Yeah. Me too," he says. "But it would only be for a year or whatever, and - you know. Hey, people talk about how I need to be more mature to be a good healer, well. It would be like taking time off to get more mature." He smirks. "I'll see if I can talk to some people. So that I'm not just randomly walking up to the weyrleader."

"That's true," agrees Madilla, eagerly. "You can use that as a reason for it, too. It can't hurt." She looks pleased, nodding her head several times quickly before she adds, "Good. See how it goes. Though... the Weyrleader's not so scary." Her expression turns somewhat fond, as she adds, "He took me out, once. Before he even Impressed. A nice boy... younger even than you are now."

Gabrion laughs - he finds that highly amusing. "Really? Well, he has good taste," he teases Madilla. "I didn't think he was going to stay weyrleader, after all the stuff people were saying, but he must be better than everybody thinks. Hey, speaking of - do you know that bluerider, Z'yi?" he asks.

Madilla turns pink at mention of K'del having good taste, but her response is rather more to the rest of what Gabrion has to say. "I didn't think he was, either. But... Iovniath seemed to like him." There's a half pause, a frown, and then she adds, "i do. A little, at least. Why?"

"I heard he likes you," Gabe says with an air of triumph, like a person delivering a present. "Some people were saying," he adds, with a vague wave of his hand.

Madilla's expression turns quizzical, and then outright confused. She turns rather pinker still, though it's hard to tell whether it's a specific reaction to /Z'yi/ - or just the surprise of it all. "Who said? I don't... really know him that well."

Gabrion shrugs. "Just people," he repeats. It's gossip! Don't question it! "I don't know him that well either, but he seems nice."

"Oh," says Madilla, uncertainly. "Okay, then, I guess. it just seems..." Surprising. Unusual. Blush-worthy. "He does seem nice. I don't think he likes W'chek much, though."

Gabrion gets a funny look on his face, and after a pause, decides to say what he's thinking. "Well, I mean, most people don't, do they? W'chek isn't very nice to most people. I don't think W'chek likes /anyone/."

Madilla's lips form a tight line, not quite a /frown/, but certainly not pleased. Her sigh, though, is followed by a, "I suppose not. He's..." She's not quite willing to say what is on /her/ mind, and thus concludes, in the end, "He's a little misunderstood, sometimes; he's not a /bad/ person. He's going to be a good father."

"Uh." Gabe has to register his disagreement. "I think he's pretty easy to understand. He's just a jerk, sometimes. I mean, sometimes he's alright. But if you say someone is 'misunderstood' when basically they're just being an asshole, that's like the same thing as saying it's okay to be an asshole."

Gaze narrowing, Madilla fastens Gabe with a disapproving glance. "That's not very nice," she tells him, stiffly. "And it's hypocritical. I don't want to hear that kind of talk. About anyone."

"How is it hypocritical?" Gabe yelps, wounded by the implication that he, too, is an asshole. "Look, I'm just saying, if you're going to have a kid, why don't you have one with someone who actually /likes/ you?" He sets his stew bowl down. "Plus," he adds, "I'm pretty sure he hits B'tal."

Very calmly, Madilla says, "If you're going to complain about someone not liking people, and not being nice about them, then you, in turn, are not being nice about /them/. That's hypocritical." Sort of. Looking bothered, she takes in a long, now breath, then exhales it again. "I don't exactly have many options. But... I didn't know that." Hitting B'tal. and that /does/ make her look troubled.

"I'm just telling the truth," Gabrion grumbles, defending himself. "Why would you think you don't have options? I mean, /everyone/ likes you. There's bound to be some guy that likes you enough to have a baby. And he wouldn't be the kind of guy who would go asking around what you are doing behind your back." He hasn't forgotten that incident.

"I don't want someone who just wants to give me a baby. I want... I want my children to have a father." Fathers, even, in this case. Madilla's brows have knotted inwards, and she takes several breaths before she adds, quietly, "We have a lot of history. I... understand why he did that. Now. And that's part of the reason why I asked him."

Gabrion's eyebrows go up and he eyes Madilla in disbelief. "What, because he wants to run your life?" He shakes his head. "I don't get it, Madilla. I mean, I think you have to give every other guy in the weyr some credit. There are people who are fathers. My dad didn't fly off to the moons when me and my brothers were born. We're not the only ones."

"No." And Madilla's 'no' is firm, emotional. "Not that at all. He was asking about me because seeing me was a reminder of what he wasn't going to get, but he still cared. He does care." And from the sounds of that, nothing is going to convince her otherwise. "I want to give W'chek a child. He wants a family, and he's not going to get it any other way. I want this."

Gabrion sighs, frustrated. "I get it, I'm just saying - you can't UN-have a baby. And once you do, it's like you've given him a way to run your life forever. And you shouldn't. You shouldn't trust him, he's not... he's not trustworthy." Now it's Gabe's turn to get kind of emotional. He clamps down on it, and stands up in a hurry. "I've got to go," he says stiffly as he tries to collect his things. "I'm not mad at you." That's important enough for him to state up front. "I just have to go." His voice is shaky and he won't look at Madilla.

Madilla's expression looks utterly torn between being frustrated and annoyed - and confused and concerned. She half rises from her chair as Gabrion excuses himself, and she reaches forward as though she intends to touch him, ask him what's going on, or something. In the end, though, she just stands there looking awkward. "Gabrion? Is-- what?" But she won't stop him.

Gabrion pauses long enough to look back, his arms full of his winter gear and his face flushed red with shame. "I can't talk about it," he mumbles. "Just, you should believe me, and don't trust him. You should believe me. /I'm/ not the one who wants you to do something," he points out, and then flees for real. He dropped his hat on the floor, but he doesn't look back, so he doesn't notice.

Confusion, for the moment wins out, though Madilla looks genuinely troubled at this particular turn of events. Eyes wide, she watches, lost in stunned silence, until Gabrion is gone; after that, it's still a few seconds before she can do more than blink. Finally, slowly, she steps forward to pick up the hat, holding it in her hands until, finally, she turns to reclaim her book, and head off into the weyr herself.