Logs:Trust Him
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| RL Date: 15 August, 2009 |
| Who: Madilla, Teris |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: On her return from exams, Madilla seeks dinner at the nighthearth, and meets B'tal's sister, Teris. They get along well enough, aside from a few false steps. |
| Where: Nighthearth, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day {{{day}}}, Month {{{month}}}, Turn {{{turn}}} ({{{IP}}} {{{IP2}}}) |
| Mentions: B'tal/Mentions, W'chek/Mentions |
| 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. Theoretically, you'd call it evening, now, based on the hour, but it's still light outside for the time being, which makes it feel much more like afternoon. Regardless, Madilla enters the nighthearth alone, and carries with her a small bag of some kind, though her initial destination is the stew pot on the hearth, where she serves herself with only the briefest wrinkle of the nose; it's not the freshest of meals, and the breadbasket alongside is distinctly bare. Already looking rather comfortable in a chair by herself, one leg crossed over the other, with a few hides to keep her company, it takes Teris a few moments to look up and notice another body around the hearth. When she does, she offers an amiable, "Evening," looks from pot to basket then lowers her gaze back to those hides. Madilla abandons her examination of the breadbasket to turn her head, as Teris' greeting registers; the apprentice hesitates only a moment, then offers a warm, "Good evening," in return, as she gathers up her bowl of stew and spoon in both hands, carrying it towards one of the other nearby chairs - close enough to Teris' for conversation, but not exactly /requiring/ it, either, by proximity. "I suppose there's less need to tend to here, given the weather," she ventures, as she settles, giving her bowl another glance. "I suppose that you're right," Teris allows, lifting her blue eyes again to look toward the hearth and then turning it to look at Madilla once she's settled. "The bar is nice but it's a little crowded for my tastes this time of day. And the living cavern is-- just not what I want, I guess." "So many people," concludes Madilla, bobbing her head along with these words. "I understand. I've-- I only arrived home this evening, and I don't think I could handle so many right now." Beat. "Oh-- but if I'm bothering you, and your reading, I could move, or just... I have my own work to do, so I don't need to disturb you." Her cheeks have gone pink at this thought, her head ducking lower, eyes on her bowl instead. "This is home, I assume?" Teris asks, situating herself so she can look at the other young woman without too much trouble. "You're not bothering me at all. But you might want to eat that before it gets cold. Not as good that way," as though it's important information that she's sharing. "What work are you doing?" Madilla's head bobs to indicate that, yes, this is home, and her expression turns rueful at mention of her food. "You have a point," she tells the older girl, lifting her spoon to get stuck in. "You mean-- the work I have with me? Or what I do in general?" Beat. "No, of course, the work with me. A baby blanket; I'm working on a baby blanket, for my Journeyman. Now that my exams are finished... I have a little more time." "With you, yes," Teris' gaze flickers slightly toward where the small bag is but it comes back up a moment later and she smiles. "Oh? That sounds lovely. For your journeyman. You're a healer, right? You were in the infirmary a few times when I went to visit B'tal, I think. Unless you have a sister that looks an awful lot like you." Which she seems doubtful about. More head bobs, several of them, this time-- and then Madilla's expression lights: "You're B'tal's sister! I knew I recognised you, or, at least, I /thought/ I did. I have sisters, but none of them live here; no, that was me. I'm Madilla." For all of this, she hasn't actually managed to take more than a single bite of her stew, though she attempts another one, now, chewing and swallowing without taking much pleasure from the experience. "Madilla, that's right," Teris says as though she already knew that name and feels a little silly now. "You're W'chek's..." She's looking for a word that suits, but she doesn't seem to find the right one so she goes with, "Whatever, right? Promised, maybe? B'tal doesn't make much sense when he talks about it." She rolls her eyes. Boys. "Teris, by the way." "'Whatever'," laughs Madilla, setting her spoon down again. "Promised - yes, I suppose that works. If we were in the holds, I suppose I'd be his fiancee, but it's all a little different here, isn't it? But we've the closest thing to it, I suppose." She looks amused for B'tal's lack of sense, and adds, "Lovely to meet you, Teris. B'tal... talks about W'chek and I?" "I think it's a little silly, personally. I say people can be called whatever they like," Teris says but then she smiles, "I suppose it's not up to me, though." Which is obviously a shame as far as she's concerned. "He does sometimes. Not all the time. I guess I tend to do more of the talking." A thoughtful pause to consider this, then, "It's nice to meet you, too." Madilla looks pleased. "I agree," she tells Teris. "As long as we all know what we're talking about, why shouldn't we? People tend to be concerned, though, if I talk about marrying W'chek. As though they think I don't realise how things have to be." Which makes her frown at her stew. After taking another bite of it, she adds, "He's a lovely boy, your brother. Very sweet. I hope he's doing better, now." "I'm not sure it even really matters now, you know? Now that thread's not falling. I don't see why it should matter what the riders do with their personal lives." Teris has perhaps given this some thought in the past. "Are you okay with that, though?" she asks, sounding sincere with a certain amount of understanding. Then she's grinning, "I'm not sure about lovely. But he can be sweet, I guess. He was doing just fine last I knew. Still a little sore around the middle but they said that might last for awhile, I think." Madilla visibly mulls over this idea, over another mouthful of her meal, and finally says, sounding thoughtful, "I suppose it's as much tradition as holders getting married. It feels wrong to people. It," she breaks off then, actively nodding as she shifts to answer the question: "I am. I understand what-- differences there will have to be. I trust W'chek; I know he will do right by me. The rest... doesn't matter." She looks more amused for Teris' remarks about her brother, tempered with understanding, her head bobbing: "I'm glad to hear it." "Tradition," Teris agrees and she's quiet for a few moments, allowing the healer some more time to eat, perhaps. Finally, "I'm glad you trust him. I don't." There's a pause, then she realizes how that sounds and has the grace to look embarrassed for a brief moment. "I mean, I don't trust very well. Not him in particular. He seems nice enough, I suppose." Madilla is stock-still, frozen and distinctly off-balance in the time between that statement, and Teris' amendment to it. Finally, then, she can breath again, and attempt to recompose her expression, though it's distinctly more bland and less warm, now. "Is there a reason you don't trust well?" she asks, voice soft. "He is nice. He's very good to me." "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-- Anyway, yes, I have my reasons," Teris continues, composing herself on the fly. "I think I'd rather not talk about them, though." She shifts forward to find her sandals and slip her feet back into them, then rises. Smoothing a hand over her abdomen, the other with the hides falls to her side. "I think I'll leave you to your work. I hope you have a nice evening, Madilla." A polite smile is offered, still warm around the edges, then she starts to make her way out into the caverns. Madilla turns pink, and then darker pink: red, even. "I'm sorry," she gets out, hurried and awkward. "I didn't mean to pry, truly I didn't. I-- of course. You, too, Teris. It was... nice to meet you?" It sounds frightfully uncertain, and her expression is no better; it lingers well and truly after the older girl is gone, leaving Madilla alone with her work.
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