Difference between revisions of "Logs:Uppity"

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.

Post-dinner, the kitchens are busy as those who work there clean up the mess from the evening meal. There are people scurrying back and forth with stacks of dishes and bowls of leftovers, while others clean benches and still more start the preparations for tomorrow's food. Having found himself a quiet spot near the door, Nicky is a bastion of quiet in comparison to the hive of activity around him. It would appear he's trying to make himself look small to avoid being called in to work, though it's not all that easy for him to blend into the background as he stands there eating a sandwich made from dinner's remains.

Not everyone makes it a habit to avoid work. Azaylia is quite the opposite, swept in from the living caverns among actual kitchen workers, her arms full of dishes and the like. With a soft laugh, "No, really. Let me help." She certainly seems capable of carrying the heavier pots and things, not that she's dressed for such. Lovely blue dress or no, the weyrwoman is set on politely insisting her aid-- which is a perfect distraction, as she's already in the process of doing so. Not to overstep her bounds, nevermind her rank, the tall woman allows herself to be shooed once she's relinquished her load. As it turns out, the corner she finds herself in isn't as empty as she thought, "Oh. Hello." Surprised, but with a gentle smile despite this.

When the privacy of his little nook is invaded, Nicky politely steps aside to make more room with a warm smile to Azaylia. "Ma'am," he greets her with a nod of his head, brushing his fingers over his lips to dislodge any crumbs that may be there. This is followed by a brushing back of curls. "I'm sorry if I'm in your way, ma'am, only I missed dinner, and they said here would be an alright spot for me to grab something." The sandwich is brandished with a little, apologetic smile, before he takes a bite from it.

Azaylia doesn't look as though she'll scold the lad. There is an amused quirk to her otherwise friendly smile, but that might have to do with her looking up at the young man. "You're a growing boy." Hopefully not by much, "Why would you go on skipping dinner?" It isn't quite a scold, and she does sound genuinely curious. The goldrider doesn't seem in a hurry, glancing towards the dishwashers now and again, as if tempted. They've planned for that, a woman who's known for multitasking and brandishing a wooden spoon against overly helpful weyrwomen.

Nicky swallows his mouthful of sandwich and dusts away crumbs before answering with a crooked smile. "Worked through it, ma'am. It's been a busy day, and I had to help my uncle out. He's got some big order to fill and needed an extra pair of hands." The teen shrugs his shoulders, clearly not bothered by having to put in extra hours. Before he starts to tuck into the second sandwich on his plate, he rubs his fingers off on his trousers and then offers his hand to the woman. "I'm Nicky, ma'am."

"Ah. I understand." Azaylia says with a soft laugh, not unfamiliar with working through meals and the kitchen later suffering for it. Never mind the woman's infamous appetite, "What is it your uncle, and you, do?" Her hand slides into his with little hesitation, grip surprisingly sturdy with a palm that isn't as smooth as one might expect. "Azaylia. Well met, Nicky. You'll almost be a Nick, soon?" A joke, likely for such a name that would suit someone smaller than he currently is.

"I'm training as a farrier, ma'am. My uncle's a Smith; I've been trained by his Hall so I can help him out well enough." Nicky's handshake is warm, roughened by his work-calloused fingers, and firm. When Azaylia mentions her name, his eyes narrow thoughtfully, and he bites on his bottom lip as he thinks. "Miss Azaylia, your name sounds awful familiar, but I can't quite place it." Another thoughtful moment, then he shrugs and smiles. "There's plenty who call me Nick already, ma'am, though I'm fond of the 'ky'. My ma gave it to me."

Brown eyes are bright once Nicky reveals his craft of sorts, "How are our boys and girls doing? I haven't had time to go down to the stables lately." Who would want to, in such weather? It's a safe bet she's talking about the runners and other various animals. Azaylia is once again surprised, amusement obvious as she introduces herself further, "Gold Hraedhyth's rider." Which would make her..? "I'm sorry. I'm used to people already knowing who I am." She seems embarrassed by that fact. "Nicky it is, then. Mamas know best, after all."

"/Oh/." /That's/ why he knows the name. Nicky blushes a little when Azaylia reveals who she is, and he gives her a lopsided, awkward, shy sort of smile. When he starts to speak again, he does so slightly slower than before, and with more pauses between words; some of which he seems to swallow back as he tries to quash his stutter. "I can place your name, now, ma'am. It's a p-pleasure to meet you - I've come across miss Brieli once or twice, as well."

Azaylia is quite familiar with various types of 'Ohs', holding back her own once the lad realizes who she is. "Now, now." She's gentle in her chiding, "We were having a lovely conversation, and I've been a weyrwoman this entire time. No need to be so nervous." Her arm lifts to give his curls a soft pat, not having to really stretch in order to do so. "Did you? Brieli's lovely." In her own way. It doesn't keep Azaylia from sounding fond of the other goldrider. Light voice reminds, "Don't forget your sandwich." He was eating, wasn't he?

"Yes, ma'am, she's been very pleasant." The awkward teen nods, his blush deepening just a little. And perhaps it's just as well Azaylia's reminding him that he has a sandwich, because he did seem to have forgotten it. Nicky picks it up, takes a bite and places the meal back down while he chews and swallows. "I've never been in a Weyr before now, miss Azaylia," he admits with a shrug-roll of one shoulder. "Forgive me for saying so, but yourself and miss Brieli are far nicer than what I've heard, ma'am."

The weyrwoman settles back into herself, hands folded in front of her skirts all polite and such. Azaylia has a pleased smile for when he remembers to eat thanks to her, hardly the type to let a boy starve himself for conversation. "No? Welcome, then. However late I might be in saying it." She, as well as her aforementioned partner, have been busy and all. Eyes are suddenly a bit wide, expression genuinely startled, "...than what you've heard?" News to her. It really shouldn't be. It might not, and yet, "I can't imagine what those things might be." Not that it sounds like she wants to.

Nicky's eyes go wide, and he holds up a hand in apology. "N-nothing /bad/, ma'am! Only they told me back home that weyrwomen were... m-more... um..." He struggles to find the right word, clicking his calloused fingers to try and aid the thought process along. "... Uppity?" Seconds after the word leaves his lips, his shoulders sink and he shakes his head in regret. "F-fog and fire, ma'am, I oughtn't've s-said anything. Only b-both you and miss Brieli have been ve-very nice to meet, and not like what they said you might be, and I'm sorry if I caused offense."

"Uppity." Azaylia's soft voice carries nothing but disbelief. Hands unclasp and begin to migrate to her hips, big eyes blinking rapidly as she tries to process that. "I can't imagine why." Not at all sarcastic, she's truly at a loss. But then Nicky's has to go and fret which snaps her out of it. "Oh, no. I appreciate the honesty. I'm not offended." Perhaps a hint of it, but only for those 'back home' who seem to know so much about weyrwomen.

That sandwich disappears real quick in the midst of the awkward turn Nicky's steered the conversation to, and the teen brandishes his plate once it's bare, relieved to have an excuse to skedaddle. "I'm n-not sure why either, ma'am, but perhaps it's because they've been to a Weyr no more than I have? I'm sure they'd change their tune if they c-came and met yourself and miss Brieli." He nods, then raises the plate to show that it's empty, just in case it hasn't yet been noticed. "I oughta get back to my uncle, see if he needs more help. It was nice to have met you, miss Azaylia. Have a nice evening." He ducks his head in an awkwardly polite sort of way, then turns to weave his way through the busy kitchen staff to drop his plate off with the others being washed, before disappearing back out into the Weyr proper.