Logs:It Will All Be Fine
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| RL Date: 10 June, 2009 |
| Who: Madilla, W'chek |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Madilla is studying for her upcoming exams. W'chek has family issues. They talk. There's cuteness. The usual. |
| Where: Kitchen, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 23, Month 12, Turn 19 (Interval 10) |
| 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. The kitchens are quieter, though far from empty, now that the evening meal has mostly finished, which makes it a decent enough spot to spread out books and get some work done - which is what Madilla is doing, secreted in one of the alcoves, this evening. The remains of her dinner are still sitting beside her, in amongst the piles of papers she's flicking through, her lips working overtime as she reads. The Weyrlings are all supposed to show up for dinner at the same time, but this afternoon, W'chek seems to have had something that distracted him from making his usual appearance at that group meal. At least, that would explain why he's showing up in the kitchen, only just pulling off a knit cap as he does, poking about looking for leftovers for a few minutes. He's trying to put a couple rolls into a cloth napkin when he spots Madilla there. And he certainly cannot depart without at least saying hello, so he dumps the whole thing out onto a plate. "Mind some company, for at least a minute?" he inquires, softly, the please-don't-jump-up-and-run-away voice from earlier meetings. Flicking sheets over as she hunts down some reference or another, it takes Madilla several moments before the sound of a voice nearby actually drags her attention away enough that she can look up; the surprise her expression shows suggests she doesn't even place the voice until then. "Oh!" And then: "Whi-- W'chek! No, of course, please, sit down. I'll clear some room." Which she does, piling a few books on top of each other to create a space on the opposite side of the table. "I should probably take a break before my head explodes, anyway. Exams, next seven. But-- you're well?" "Wouldn't want your head to explode," says W'chek agreeably as he sits down with the plate and the dinner rolls and whatever other few little things he's managed to scrounge up that wouldn't have destroyed a napkin. "I'm, um..." Pause. "Something. Zhikath has gotten a peculiar obsession this afternoon and I had to reassure him. He doesn't want me to go away. He seems convinced I'm going to start growing extra teeth if I'm not under his supervision. I'm still not really sure what exactly happened, there." Madilla's lips part into a half-smile: no, probably not. She continues to adjust her papers and books as he sits, and even while he talks, though her head tilts sideways to watch him as she does so. "Oh," she says, brow furrowing, as he finishes, teeth gnawing on her lip. "Oh, I'm sorry. Do you mean... literal teeth? He actually thinks that? Or he's just being over-protective of you?" She drops those papers, now, clasping her hands together as she focuses her attention upon him, worried. "Literal teeth." W'chek makes sort of a what-can-you-do face and shrugs. "He's--I forget he's just a baby. You know? He's so big, now. Already. I know he was talking to Vrianth and then all of a sudden, that." He shakes his head, picks up a roll and breaks it in half. Bites into it thoughtfully, with still only the usual number of teeth. Chews and swallows. "Not that he can't be protective, but he was wanting to actually look at my mouth, and that's new." Madilla looks utterly mystified by this, combined with the concern that still lines her face, and holds sway over the set of her mouth. "/Teeth/," she repeats, followed by a long, low breath. "How strange. Did you let him? Look at your mouth, I mean. To prove that you weren't growing any extras. But," a pause then, before she adds, "He'll forget, though, won't he? Before too much longer. That's what they do, isn't it?" Bit of a pause. "Well, yes. It seemed simplest. Had to take the partial out, too, he thought they might be underneath. He'll forget, I'm sure. It's just--one more thing. You know?" W'chek polishes off the roll in one more admittedly-large bite, which gives a long excuse for silence. Then: "My stepmother is coming up tomorrow. With my sisters and the kids. Tiriana said it was all right. With everything that happened, things are--very tight, there. I thought it might mend fences, a little. But I'm a little... nervous. You would not believe the dreams I had last night." "Yes, of course," agrees Madilla, pressing her hands together more tightly and nodding, her earnestness probably as much belief in W'chek as actual understanding. "Your-- oh, of course you are." /This/, she is definitely convinced a bout. "I'm sure it will be better for them, and I'm very glad she said yes. But. It will be strange for you, having them around, won't it?" She hesitates, before adding, "But they're your family. So it will be okay. And you'll be busy. They'll understand that." She doesn't ask what the dreams entailed, but she's watching him - closely. "Strange," W'chek agrees. "That's a good word for it. I hope they'll understand. It's been so long since I was around any of them all the time, and... well." He clears his throat, picks up the second roll, turns it over in his hands. "It will be fine. You'll get to meet them. That will be nice. Won't it? Maybe you'll get along with--my sisters, at least. And the little ones. Not while you're studying, of course. Maybe we can do introductions when you get back?" A little hopeful smile. Madilla's nod is earnest, for the suggestion of introductions on her return, complete with a warmer smile: "Of course. I would like that - to meet your sisters. I'll have more time, when I'm back. And I'm sure it will be strange for them, too, being in such a different place, so it will be better for everyone." To know someone, presumably. Someone /like them/. Sort of. Her hands shift, as though she's holding back an attempt to reach out to squeeze his - well, he's eating after all - but what she concludes with is earnest: "It will be fine, I'm sure of it." Reassurance. W'chek be a bit of a nervous wreck regularly, but he accepts it when given with grateful smile. "It will," he manages to agree. "Of course it will. They're nice. And the little ones are a hoot. And this works out. Fewer mouths to feed at home over the winter, maybe I get to stay closer to them than I would otherwise. I'm still a little surprised that they agreed, that Lucie's husband will--" Some unpleasantness there, because he shakes his head and averts train of thought back elsewhere. "It will all be fine." Madilla's head goes nod, nod, nod, all the way through what W'chek has to say, her expression drawn into a warm smile. Nor does she interrupt that to ask, even with her expression, as he trails off; it's one of the convenient things about Madilla: she never does ask. "I'm sure Milani and the Assistant Headwomen will take good care of them. And it /will/ help. And-- hopefully none of this will happen again, so you won't have to worry about them, after the thaws." "Ridiculous," murmurs W'chek, "that anybody should have to say 'hopefully' about that. This world. It's gone mad, it seems like, sometimes. Bandits on the roads, teenagers playing Weyrleader, me with a bronze dragon. Things used to seem simpler, when I was a kid." He finally breaks the roll in half, then one half in half again. "Will be weird, them being here. That time and this time, in the same place together. I guess all I really worry about is... how everyone else acts, here. You handle yourself so well, I don't know if one of my sisters would be so graceful." Madilla hesitates, visibly, in the wake of W'chek's murmur, though she doesn't - immediately - say anything, not until after his compliment, which turns her cheeks pink. "I have an obligation to my craft," she reminds, although, "But mostly... I can never forget the lessons of my family, I suppose. So it's my duty to honour them. I feel a little sorry for the Weyrleader. I can't imagine he expected it any more than you expected to Impress bronze... it must be very difficult. I'm sure he's doing his best, though." "Don't mean he's not," W'chek says gently. Well, okay, maybe he does sometimes mean that, but it's not the sort of thing he'd say to Madilla. "Just it's very--contrary to the way I was brought up to think the world ought to be. By my stepmother, mostly. And now she's going to be here." Deep breath in through the nose, then puffing his cheeks before breathing out. "Will be interesting." And what Madilla doesn't know-- well, that's a lot of stuff. But in this case, it means that she nods quickly, expression made up of a slightly embarrassed smile. Utterly trusting. "Of course. I know what you mean. He's not what I thought of a Weyrleader as being like, before I came here. Then again, weyrs in general are not what I expected." And then, as her hands spread out over the top of her books, resting there lightly, "I'm sure your stepmother will adapt. Or... cope. I'm sure it will be fine." Maybe repeating it this many times will make it so. "Only a few months, after all." W'chek finishes off the food he's acquired in short order after that. "I'm not sure I want her to adapt. Or cope. That idea is a little alarming. I'll be happy as long as none of them go into screaming fits while they're here, nobody gets propositioned by some rider--you know. That sort of thing." Faint smile. See? He can joke about this. Really, he can. "If it helps," Madilla offers. "I've been here more than two turns, and I've been fine. No one has acted /terribly/ awfully to me. So I'm sure..." Fine. You get the point. She thinks everything will be fine. "All you need to worry about is Zhikath, W'chek. Everything else... it's not your problem. It won't reflect on /you/, whatever happens. You did your bit." Everything and everybody probably will be fine, except W'chek, who is never fine. That smile slides right off his face, at that, as hard as he obviously tries to hold onto it. "He doesn't need worrying about, not really. And everything else... I have to take some responsibility. I know it's not all on me," and okay really he knows no such thing but he knows enough to say that now, "but I can't just say it's somebody else's problem, you know? It's not." And now, Madilla can't seem to help herself: both hands get lifted, extending across the table to reach for his, to squeeze them, if she can manage to reach that far. "It's not your problem, either, though. I'm not saying that you should... forget about it completely. There's duty involved, of course. But. Worrying over it won't help, surely, and..." She trails off, fumbling for words, and then, finally: "I just worry. I don't want you to... It really is going to be fine." Holding hands again. W'chek's stepmother would be scandalized. W'chek himself manages to salvage the smile at the touch, squeezing back. "If you worry because you don't want me to worry, then I'm going to worry about you worrying, and then where will we be? It will spiral out of control. You should be concerned with your studying, not me. I'll be... fine." Fine, yes. Though Madilla's parents would no doubt he similarly afflicted, she seems to find no shame in it herself - no doubt that's why they no longer welcome her home quite so enthusiastically. She meets his gaze squarely, cheeks flushing a little at the sense he points out, and yet, "But if you're worried, it will distract me from my study. So please don't. I think there would be a few people smirking if they discovered I wasn't concentrating as I should, because of a boy." Madilla! Distracted over a boy! The world must be ending. "You will be fine. And you'll concentrate on yourself, and Zhikath, and let whatever happens with your stepmother just... happen. Please?" Look at those big eyes. So, she's distracted over a boy, and he's distracted over--a girl. Right. That. Actually, W'chek goes so far as to redden a bit himself, and squeeze her hands again. "I will be fine," he repeats. "And I'll concentrate on myself, and Zhikath. And whatever happens, happens." And he's smiling. And lying through his teeth, probably, because he can't bear to say something to Madilla other than what she wants to hear, no matter how untrue it might be. And maybe because he'd like it to be true, at least. Maybe that. "And you'll study hard, and dazzle them so much they promote you immediately, right?" Even a grin, there. Madilla, trusting, dutiful Madilla, nods, and smiles, and looks altogether far too believing, not to mention relieved. She, too, gives another squeeze of the hands, as she says, "I wish. The promotion, I mean. I mean... I'm not /ready/, I suppose, but..." But being a Journeyman! "But the rest... yes, of course. I promise. So long as we're on the same page." And now that that's settled, he can have his hands back; too much contact, even of the palm-to-palm variety, would be distinctly inappropriate. If W'chek's hands stay there, palm up, for a moment--well, that would only be appropriate for a young man with his girl, right? Not any kind of neediness. "Suppose there's no need to rush, anyway. Months left of this weyrlinghood business, and then I expect I'll need..." There's just the slightest pause there. It's tiny. Minute. "...a little bit of time to settle in, afterwards. Get used to things. So I suppose I won't fault them if they fail to recognize your talents just yet." Certainly not. Madilla, certainly, merely looks pleased. Then again, she does that quite a lot, anyway. "Of course," she agrees, easily. "There would be no point in rushing. We're still relatively young, after all. Of course, you'll want your freedom, first. I'm sure there's plenty one has to get used to, as a new rider. So it's all right, that it will take a little longer, for me to walk the tables." Which doesn't stop her from looking a little wistful. Will her biological clock be able to stand it? "Of course. Young. By comparison, around here, anyway. And we've got lots of time. And..." W'chek finally pulls his hands back in, rubs at one shoulder idly. "I mean, if you did get promoted sooner, I wouldn't insist on waiting any longer than we had to. But as long as we have to, well, it's not the end of the world." Incredibly easy to say that, of course, as long as they do. "I really do... look forward to it." And that's at least *mostly* true. The bit where she gets promoted, anyhow. "Not by standards at home," agrees Madilla. "I'd probably have a baby by now, if I were still at home." But she's trying not to think about that, plainly, hurrying onwards to add, "Of course. We'll take it as it comes, right? Once we're both able. I'm," and look at her flush, "Looking forward to it, too. I'm... really glad we met." It's kind of sweet, the way she can't meet his gaze as she says that, staring down at her hands on the table, instead. The smile there is brilliant. "Time enough for plenty of those, yet, later," W'chek does not hesitate to reassure her. "I'm glad we met, too. I can't imagine, now, if I didn't know you--" A shake of his head. "It would be a very different life, at least." Incredibly different. Not necessarily worse, of course. But different. "I should get back to Zhikath," he finally admits. "He's asking about my teeth again." That was... exactly the right thing to say to Madilla. All of it, except for the bit about getting back to Zhikath, but that wasn't necessarily wrong, either. Pink cheeked, and utterly beaming, she doesn't seem to be able to find the words to respond, so resorts to nodding madly instead. Finally: "Of course. Tell him I said hello? And I'll see you... soon. Maybe not until after my exams, but definitely then. I... It... Good night." "I'll tell him," W'chek agrees quickly enough. "If I don't see you before... good luck. I know you'll do fantastic." He stands and returns his plate to where the dirty dishes are being attended to, but before slipping off, he has to come back. And put a hand on her shoulder, and leans down to not exactly kiss the top of her head, but at least to press his cheek there for the briefest moment. "Don't worry," he says, softly. And then heads out very quickly, before he can think too hard about the scandalous thing he's just done. "Thank you," says Madilla, earnestly, keeping her gaze trained on him as he disposes of his dishes. She goes still, as he presses his cheek against her, but her hand lifts, just slightly, to touch the other cheek, just for a moment - it's sweet, really. "I'll try," she murmurs, and this time, she doesn't watch as he goes, but stares back down at the table, at the pages she needs to go back to - and then the reading begins again. |
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