Logs:Responsibility
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| RL Date: 30 October, 2015 |
| Who: Hattie, Gethin |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Mother and son do not see eye to eye about certain issues. |
| Where: Kitchen, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 22, Month 2, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Tabitha/Mentions, N'muir/Mentions, Harriet/Mentions |
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| Gethin, by nature of his craft, is often up late and sleeps late into the following day. It is nearing early afternoon when he heads into the kitchens to beg something to eat from the staff. He's settled into a back corner with a warm bowl of porridge and a steaming cup of tea set in front of him. He's still got the exhaustion of someone whose only recently woken up on his features and doesn't seem inclined to do more than smile occasionally at one of the young women who seems to keep finding a reason to look at Gethin or bring him pastries to eat. When the Weyrwoman appears, it's by way of the stores and in animated conversation with one of Erinta's assistants, who accepts the ledger she's given and heads across the kitchen to begin going through it with one of the senior cooks. Hattie heads in the opposite direction, seemingly only passing through, though she finds a mug of something pressed into her hands before long and pauses long enough to offer thanks in return, which draws her son into her line of sight. She watches him for a moment or more over the rim of her mug and lets her gaze flit to that girl, then starts towards his table. Gethin doesn't immediately notice his mother's entrance into the kitchens. It takes him a moment to look up from his contemplation of his breakfast and then he spies Hattie heading his way. He's got a quick grin for his mother. "Good morn--," he begins and catches himself with a laugh, "I mean, afternoon!" He glances around and then waves towards the seat opposite him. "Can the Weyrwoman spare a moment to share a cup of tea with her son?" he queries, playful in the question and clearly would be content if she were indeed too busy to stay. "Otherwise," he continues far more lowly, sliding a sidelong glance towards the now giggling baker's assistant. "I'll be forced to gobble my food down and flee." Hattie doesn't look at the girl now that there's a chance that she'll see her do so, but she does wordlessly accept the invitation and slide to occupy a seat opposite Gethin. "If you don't like her, tell her straight," is her too practical advice on the subject, delivered rather dryly. "Or you might find that she's gone and scribbled your name all over the walls of her room and there'll be no escape for you, ever..." She tries to deliver those teasing words completely deadpan, but in the end she's forced to surrender a smirk. "Be kind and give me a turn or so before I'm a grandmother, hmm?" "Mother," Gethin's tone shows his displeasure more than his face does. "I do not encourage any of it. Am I supposed to go and tell every girl that giggles at me they have no chance?" He scoffs at this notion, shakes his head, and descends upon his porridge rather than continue that conversation. He chokes on his mouthful at her last and coughs repeatedly into his fist. "Really, mother!" this time the boy doesn't even try to keep his tone down. "Do you think I'm one of those types?" He chugs at his mug to clear his throat. "Let's talk about something else, can't we? This is almost as bad as letting that girl giggle at me." Victory is hers, or so says the smug grin that Hattie tries to swallow down along with a mouthful of tea. "I think that I'm glad that I can finally invoke the mother's privilege of winding you up about this sort of thing," she tells him through a ripple of low laughter. "Do try to breathe, or she might come over here and weep over your prone form," she adds with overplayed nonchalance. Still, after that, she relents and gives her boy a cursory looking over. "You're settling back in well, I take it?" Gethin's smile seems to be gone only temporarily as Hattie continues to tease him. Once she settles on a more enjoyable topic for him, he returns to his casual grin. "Sure, I suppose I am. I at least know where everything is and don't have to fuss over adjusting here. The way that Journeyman Hal puts it, it took him forever to get used to dragons constantly flying overhead, the noise, the traffic," he shakes his head and takes another gulp of tea. "I forget how hard it is on some people when they first arrive here. I told him at least he wasn't a candidate who had to go and be in the thick of it all. Our work mostly keeps us separate." He pauses in his enthusiasm over his craft to level a look at her. "And are you settling okay? Tabs mentioned, well- she worries. But. Really. Are things working out okay with N'muir and the baby and everything?" "...I suppose there comes a point where it's normal and you don't notice it as much," Hattie says slowly, giving a shrug of one shoulder. "I can't remember much of how I felt about it, but a lot of that is down to Elaruth." It's with a mock sternness that she insists, "Try not to lecture your Journeyman about weyr life, won't you?" She lifts her mug again, then asks, "What does he have you doing?" It might simply be to buy time to react in an appropriate way to his question, for she's silent for a moment while she schools her features into something far less readable than seconds ago. "N'muir and I are fine," she declares. "Harriet's healthy, if little. There's no need for any of you to worry about me." Yet she adds, "Though you might take a little time to make sure Harriet knows who you are." "What? He was going on and on. I don't like reminding people of my lineage but I felt I had to at least explain why I didn't flinch every time a green flew overhead last night!" Gethin defends himself, instantly rushing to prove he did nothing wrong whether or not his mother is teasing him again. Gethin catches Hattie's shift to the unreadable and hides his own reaction behind his mug of tea. "She's so little," he answers, "I don't know if she'd even grasp I'm her brother. I promised Tabs I'd do my best to be available to the younger ones. She's better with the babies than me, anyway." He sighs and sets his mug on the table, looking back up at his mother with another gauging glance. "Are you sure you're handling everything okay?" "He's still your Journeyman and your future in your craft is in his hands," Hattie enunciates just a little too clearly. "No matter how ridiculous you believe anything he says to be. Explaining is one thing; lecturing another. I should know. I'm an expert at the latter." And quite unrepentant about it she is too. What else she might say is interrupted by the kitchen hand who pauses beside her to offer a sweetroll from the tray he carries. As she begins to pull the roll apart, she utters a wry, "Don't let Nehmet hear you calling him a baby," soon followed by, "She doesn't need to understand the concept of siblings, but they do recognise people, you know?" It's a decent enough shield for what could be a fraying temper, given how she keeps ripping the roll apart. "What am I supposed to not be handling, Gethin?" she puts to him, point blank. Gethin restrains himself from showing his exasperation at her words about his journeyman to a minimal tightening of his lips and he catches himself before he rolls his eyes by blinking a few times furiously at his now empty bowl. "Right," he murmurs to Hattie's lecture. He looks up at her mention of Harriet with a shrug. "Okay. If you want me to hold her, I will." He adds as he shifts in his seat. He spares a glance to the door and then looks back to Hattie with a blankness that isn't his normal reaction. "Nevermind that I asked," he mutters, pushing up from his chair. "I was just checking. I sometimes feel like Tabs stays here to watch after you. And when I come and can help her out with that and I ask you a normal question, you seem to just get mad. So forget it." He gathers his dishes and gives his mother the courtesy of waiting for her response before fleeing. "I don't need any of you to look after me!" Hattie exclaims before she can stop herself. "I'm your mother. I look after you and everyone else here. I've told you this before." Turns ago, now. "You all have your own lives. You make your own choices. You've no right to get angry with me for standing by mine and not doing whatever I please instead." When she stands, it's a sedate affair, meant to appear unhurried to onlookers. "You're young," she says lowly. "Do what you want to do with your life and stop worrying about people whose choices were made turns ago. Do you hear? Put your energy into something that will benefit you." That she has to look up at him now seems to deter her not in the slightest; she still fixes him with a stare that invites no argument. "You'd better tell Tabitha that," Gethin counters Hattie's low rebuke, his eyes flashing with a momentary temper. "I do focus on myself far more than the others do. Maybe I feel guilty my other siblings feel more responsible than I do." He meets her stare with a scowl and then leaves, dumping his dishes in a haste beside the girl who is no longer giggling. What the rest of the staff may make of their encounter does not bother Gethin in the least. |
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