Logs:Enforced Rest

From NorCon MUSH
Enforced Rest
"Just because I'm an idiot, it doesn't mean you have to be one too."
RL Date: 26 October, 2013
Who: Ali, Hattie
Involves: Fort Weyr
Type: Log
What: Ali has a favor to ask Hattie, and Hattie has an order for Ali.
Where: Herb Garden, Fort Weyr
When: Day 4, Month 2, Turn 33 (Interval 10)
Mentions: Nehmet/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, N'muir/Mentions, Shevena/Mentions


One thing that Nehmet has mastered during his first turn: screaming bloody murder. The relative quiet of the herb garden and the shore of the lake is shattered by the boy's high-pitched shrieking that starts up the very second that Hattie tries to hand him over to his nanny and send the two of them into the warmth of the caverns, though the Weyrwoman makes sure that she doesn't reach back for him, nor does she do anything but stay right where she is, seated on one of the many benches in the Weyr's herb garden. He's still crying and squirming, struggling to be free and reaching back for her when the nanny turns to head inside, a firm nod from Hattie insisting that she do as she's been asked. Only when neither of them can see her does the goldrider sink low in her seat and run a hand through her hair.

Ali's wearing her furred cloak - a rare occurrence for her - which seems to indicate she's been walking for a bit. Waddling might be a better descriptor, since she's starting to look distinctly ungainly. Despite the fact that she looks exhausted, there's something content in the way her hand curls around her stomach and the set of her expression. It's the screaming that draws her from her slow walk around the lake towards the herb garden - the junior pausing to talk briefly to the nanny and to brush affectionately at Nehmet's head before the pair continue. Undoubtedly she asked about the Weyrwoman's whereabouts since it's not long after that the dark-haired woman appears where Hattie's seated. "He's still teething?" she asks, by way of greeting.

Hattie sits up straight the moment that she notices Ali's approach, yet she offers no greeting to her junior, nor does she try to catch her attention. Only when she's addressed does she actually look properly at the younger goldrider and try to formulate an answer to her question. "And he's developed a habit of clinging to me like he'll never see me again," she replies, matter of fact about the whole thing, with little inflection to make it easy to tell how she feels about it. Without gloves to warm her hands, she shoves her hands up the sleeves of her long leather coat. "He'll settle down in a few minutes." For indeed, Nehmet's bawling can still be heard, though the noise gets softer the further away the nanny walks.

"He misses you," Ali says, though the phrasing makes it more personal and heartfelt than just talking about Nehmet's feelings. She shifts her weight, pressing a hand into her back, chewing her lower lip. Her indecision is plain, and after a lengthening silence, she asks, "Did you- did you have trouble sleeping, in your last month? I- I can't seem to get comfortable when I lie down, and he keeps moving at night." Her gaze is settled on Hattie, her uncertainty making her look a lot younger in that moment.

"I'm not being unkind," Hattie insists, brushing over anything she might understand from Ali's phrasing not quite without letting on that it's done deliberately, since her gaze darts right away from her junior the moment after she speaks. "It's for the best." Finally, the sound of Nehmet crying has faded completely, and something visible eases in her expression, save for the sharpness of her gaze. "Sit down," she suggests, acknowledging and ignoring Ali's awkward posture at the same time. "You want to try and sleep when he is," she'll follow her lead and call the baby a 'he', "just like when he's born. Other than that... pillows. Lots of them." She pauses, about to say no more, then: "I found sleeping in the wallow more comfortable, actually."

"I know you only do what's right for him." The speed with which Ali agrees suggests that was never in doubt for the junior. After a moment, she takes the couple of steps over to the bench and sinks down with a slow exhale, rearranging her cloak so it covers her. She's listening closely, turning her head to watch her senior as she speaks, nodding slowly. "He sleeps during the day, though- it gives me time to catch up on work." It's not exactly a protest, but it's obvious she doesn't want to be seen not to pull her weight. It's the last that surprises her the most, expression thoughtful. "With- Issy? I hadn't thought of that," she admits.

Hattie doesn't pull any punches when she says, "You look like you haven't slept for a sevenday," and pairs it with, "and it /sounds/ like you haven't, either." Going on what Ali has told her so far. "It doesn't matter if you need to sleep when you're supposed to be in a meeting; just /sleep/." That's an order, from the sound of things. "There are others who can handle your work in the meantime. You're not expected to still be running about all over the place." Her hands curl around opposing elbows, the sleeves of her coat bunching a little as she knots her arms beneath her chest. "Elaruth sleeps with pillows and blankets in her wallow /and/ she makes a decent cradle. Bed was too flat, sometimes. Isyath might know where it hurts and where to support."

"I'm not running-" Ali begins to protest, but it's rather weakly done, and she recognizes it straight away, shoulders hunching briefly. "Yes, ma'am," she adds, meekly, but there's somewhat of a smile there as she drops her gaze- like being /ordered/ is something she welcomes from her senior. "I just didn't want you to think I wasn't-" she exhales, and stops. "I'll try that. Thank you." There's a pause, shifting her weight slightly to get more comfortable on the bench, giving herself a moment to gather her thoughts before she murmurs, "Hattie, if- if something were to happen to me- I know you and K'del aren't the best of friends, but- if- you'd look in on my boy, wouldn't you? Make sure he had a good maternal influence- if he went to live with K'del?"

"Just because I'm an idiot, it doesn't mean you have to be one too." It's not at all self-deprecating, but a frank admittance of her own faults and what she doesn't want or expect from Ali. "You and the baby are more important than any hidework will ever be." Hattie can't /look/ at her as she says that, and though her voice is low, her words aren't forced; there's no reason to suspect them of being anything but genuine. The anger that twists her features in the next moment isn't for her junior - though its timing might make it seem like it's for K'del - but for the very thought of what is suggested might happen. "Nothing is going to happen to you," she /tells/ Ali, like she could order fate and the universe into doing as she wills. "Do you hear me? Nothing. You're going to be fine."

Ali bites her lower lip a moment; she can't help but to look at Hattie, even if the Weyrwoman isn't looking at her. "I can- I can ease things up a bit. Do some light hidework at night when he's awake," she says, her voice unsteady, but something relieved in her tone all the same. With a shift of hands to her stomach, she says with certainty: "It won't, but-" a breath, "I would feel better knowing that he'd be looked in on by- by you. Please?"

Something about that declaration of 'hidework' and 'night' must strike Hattie as absurd, as she shakes her head and slumps all too leisurely against the back of the bench. "You can surrender the hidework until sometime after the baby's born, or I can start diverting it and giving people very complicated and convoluted excuses to supply you with when you go looking for it," she decides. "I suggest you take the first option. I've had the latter done to me often enough to be an expert in the craft." She eyes Ali sidelong, then finally lifts her gaze to her and gives a single nod. "Nothing will happen," she says again, low and determined. "But in the event that the need arises... I'll make sure he's okay."

"What else am I going to do with my time? I'd love to cook, but I'm finding more and more things- the smell just makes me nauseous." Ali hesitates, then asks, quickly. "What did- what did you do?" When Hattie meets her gaze, there's a long exhale, even before the Weyrwoman's words, relief written in her features. "Nothing will happen," she echoes, with a smile, "But- thank you."

"Sleep. Read. Sew fancy straps for Isyath. Repeatedly count how many pairs of socks you have for the baby," Hattie suggests just a little facetiously (in some cases), unfolding her arms as she sits up, perching on the edge of the bench. "You'll find things to occupy your time." As for what she did? "I already told you; I'm an idiot. Just not enough of one to tell you how to seek out work. You'll survive relaxation." Her statements and manner may be awkward, but the reason for their being so becomes apparent when she finally swallows her pride or finds the nerve to turn a bit in her seat and seek to throw her arms around Ali's shoulders in a brief, tight hug. "You'll be fine. Both of you."

"Socks?" Ali echoes, kind of bemusedly, but she's laughing softly by that time regardless. "I suppose I could-" and that's when Hattie throws her arms around her. And while it's unexpected, it's definitely not unwelcome- the dark-haired woman returns the hug tightly, even letting out a noise that might be a brief sob of relief. "Of course we will," she mutters into Hattie's shoulder, her voice uneven. "Nehmet needs a little nephew to distract him, right?"

"Hm," is the most intelligent thing that Hattie comes up with when that hug is returned, not trusting her voice to anything else for the moment. Though she may have been anticipating the need to retreat back into her own space right quick, she keeps her arms around Ali instead when she eventually agrees, "He does," more quietly than she'd care to admit. "He can teach him how to wail to make you feel the most guilty about handing him off to any nannies." So much for her facade. She draws back a little, only enough to press a kiss to Ali's temple. "You leave the Weyr to me now. You've done the same for me more times than I can count."

"Nehmet does have that wail down pat," Ali agrees with a quiet, fond sort of laugh. When Hattie draws back and places a kiss on her temple, the junior's expression is both surprised and pleased- she looks happy, despite her obvious tiredness. "I'm starting to realize just how difficult it is to- let it go. Even for such a short time. It just feels like- part of my life, now."

"I think that's how it's meant to be. It might not always be /healthy/, but..." Hattie lets that thought trail away as she relinquishes her hold and glances down at her knees, then back up at Ali. "You go and sleep. I'll go and make sure that Shevena and N'muir know how things are going to be. They won't make a fuss." She pushes herself to her feet, giving a quick glance at the tail of her coat to make sure it's not caught up on anything. "And I definitely won't go and let Nehmet know that he's won." Except that's totally what she's going to do.

Ali reaches to drop a hand briefly on Hattie's arm in silent acknowledgement of her words. "I guess I could use a nap," she says, before awkwardly rising to her feet and adjust her cloak around her. "He'll have forgotten by now, surely," she says of Nehmet with a sympathetic smile. "If you need me-" but she catches herself halfway through the phrase with a twist of lips, finding it difficult to break the habit. "Have a good afternoon, Weyrwoman," she murmurs instead, the warmth of her tone making it less a title and more an endearment, picking her way slowly over the path towards her weyr.



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