|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Wed Apr 01, 2009 9:10 pm
Truth be told, Jisken didn't have kitchen duty. But little Milari had earned it because of a ruckus caused by some of the older weyrbrats, and it really hadn't been her fault in the first place, so the youth took it upon himself to take her place, since the orders from the tannery were running low anyway. It was always hard to sell heavy clothing when it started getting hot again, at least to anyone except dragonriders, and even then, the general populace seemed content to allow their skin to breathe in lighter clothes than leather, which all in all was fine for Jisken. It failed to concern the boy that trade was down: by winter, they'd all be back to the tanneries, as they did every year.
That aside, Jisken took a moment to look around the dining hall of Ista quietly, having only served kitchen duty at his native Igen. Granted, in his month or so of candidacy at Ista he had performed a variety of odd jobs, but considering his stature, he was more often given tasks outside the weyr itself, running errands or chasing after errant wherries. From under his brushy eyebrows Jisken spotted someone he vaguely recognized as a greenrider, as well as two of the previously mentioned older weyrbrats, who deliberately turned away after meeting his gaze. Jisken grunted: he would handle the boys later.
After a moment, he supposed that the smartest place to go for kitchen duty would be to head towards the drudges cleaning the klah off of the used pottery. Jisken noticed a boy, roughly ten turns of age, reluctantly cleaning as well, likely being punished as well. When one of the women looked up from her work, one of her eyebrows tilted, as if she suspected Jeskin was in the wrong place.
"I'm standing in for Milari?" Jisken quietly stated, idly wondering for a moment if they had not been told of the arrangement. "It's already been discussed." The noticing drudge shrugged, then nodded to herself before handing off an old cloth and one of the particularly dirty containers. Jisken eyed it for a moment before sitting beside the other "degenerate", beginning his task of scrubbing away the old klah. Should one look at the entire display, both the frustrated small boy and the stoic six-foot-tall teen huddled over pottery, it would almost seem comical.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Apr 03, 2009 6:22 am
Just coming off of a morning of making candles, Firyal was less than thrilled to discover that she had been signed up for an afternoon of duty in the kitchen. A friend had signed her up to take her place while she trysted with her lover. Firyal recalled that she had agreed to this arrangement. Her friend was in love with a bluerider from Southern who rarely managed to come to Ista, and she preferred to take advantage of his infrequent visits. By agreeing to take her friend's place, Firyal felt like she was playing a small part in helping two people in love steal a few more hours together, and that was a noble enterprise. The problem was, almost as soon as she had agreed to the arrangement, her friend's bluerider had started showing up a lot more frequently. Firyal was beginning to feel that she was being taken advantage of.
At least kitchen duty wasn't dipping wicks into wax and tallow to make candles. That work was hard on the arms, with the constant raising and lowering it required, and the necessary steadiness. A device was rigged up so that multiple candles could be dipped at once, one that worked on a pulley system, but that still required a great degree of attention and care that made it more of a risk if Firyal allowed her mind to wander. It didn't completely stop her from continuing to make up her stories, but she also kept a watchful eye on the device as she raised and lowered the wicks. Yes. Kitchen duty was better than that.
She came in and reported to the head of kitchen staff, explaining about the change in workers. The woman was indifferent, as long as she had the correct number of underlings to do the work, it didn't matter who they were. She did remark, however, that Firyal seemed to be filling in for Adrisa a lot lately, but Firyal shrugged it off. It wasn't forbidden, the relationship between Adrisa and her bluerider, but they preferred to keep it secret for reasons unknown to Firyal.
The head of kitchen staff pointed to where a young boy sat beside a much taller young man, washing dishes, indicating that was to be her task. The sight was comical, and if she had an artist's hands and time, she might have made a sketch of it, but she had neither. So she walked over to the pair and picked up a rag and a scrub brush (for more stubborn food paticles). By preference, she would not have sat across the water trough from the pair, but that was really the only space she could occupy, and so she took it, sitting on the bench that was there. She didn't say anything to either of the pair, nor seek to make eye contact, she just picked up the first of what she knew to be an unending stack of dishes and began to scrub away at it.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Apr 03, 2009 10:05 am
Jisken thought to himself (a somewhat rare occurance) that cleaning dishes was tedious, but at least it was a nice change of scenery. After all, the dishes didn't smell the way the raw leather did when it was soaked, or like the wherries, and dishes certainly didn't make little surprises the way a wherry would. He tried to picture the image and let a half-smirk light up his face, shaking his head. It sounded like something Milari would have liked to see.
As he returned his freshly cleaned dish to the proper pile and reached for a new one to clean, he realized that he and the boy apparently had company in the form of a petite woman, about his age, maybe older. Looking up, he took a moment to study her features with his dim hazel eyes, then shrugged to himself as he began to clean once again.
"So, are you here because you got yourself in trouble, or are you just trying to be a good citizen?" The boy finally asked, putting forth his amiable smile. Perhaps there would be something for him to gain from this experience after all: if nothing else, he could acquaint himself with members of the weyr who were older than 12 turns.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Apr 03, 2009 6:49 pm
Firyal, who had been taking her lingering ire with her thoughtless friend out on a particularly stubborn piece of what might have been mashed tubers that was clinging with maddening tenacity to a plate, nearly jumped out of her skin when the older of the two males across from her spoke. Most of the people she knew conversed while engaged in mind-numbing chores like doing the dishes, and she was no exception, but she was much better at conversing with people she knew and felt comfortable with than with strangers. And she was particularly bad when it came to male strangers.
"I..."
If she answered truthfully, explaining that she had areed to do a friend's work, he would assume she was trying to be a good citizen, which she was not, really. She was doing a favor for a friend, but since she was coming to regret the whole thing, it couldn't really be called altruism. And there was no way she was going to explain the situation. That would be a total breach of Adrisa's confidence. But the only other option then was to lie, and though she didn't really have a problem with lying, morally, she preferred not to do it for fear of one day being caught.
Another, infinitely more appealing option was to concoct an utterly wild story to explain her presence in the kitchens. Something with drama and intrigue, and so obviously untrue no one would think she was a liar, but would simply be amused by her outrageous tale. She couldn't remember - ever - how she ended up talking to the people who eventually became her friends, but she wished she could. It would make situations like this much simpler. And in the mean time she'd been silent since uttering that first syllable. Brilliant.
"I'm actually here on unofficial official business, sent by High Reaches to scout out all the best and brightest young kitchen workers, since they've had so many Hatchings lately their kitchens are nearly depleted - the workers have all Impressed. So I'm here to lure industrious young folk away from the sunny shores of Ista and bring them back to frigid High Reaches. My counterparts in the other Weyrs have been unsuccessful, and so all hope now lies with me."
She said all of this without once looking at Jisken. If she were bolder, or more familiar with the young man who had spoken, she might have asked if he felt he had the courage and fortitude to undertake such a task, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Instead she glanced up briefly to guage his reaction to her story. Firyal liked to make up stories.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Apr 04, 2009 3:41 pm
When the woman first spoke, Jisken found himself naturally intrigued, hoping that perhaps he'd accidentally acquainted himself with one of Ista's higher apprentices, or maybe even a journeywoman herself. True, she didn't look old enough to have moved beyond apprentice, but appearances were deceiving with women that age. His father taught him that the only way of really knowing was to ask, and someone else, because the likelihood of a woman revealing her true age was about as likely as Igen getting hit with a flood. Then again, his father seemed to have some sort of alterior motive for knowing whether or not a woman was "of age", and though his father found it amusing, Jisken thought that he would most certainly know a woman's age before thinking of that sort of thing.
However, the more her story progressed, the more confused his expression became, until he had to simply accept that she was probably trying to mock him for some reason or another. Regardless of her reasons for teasing him, he still felt the need to be friendly, if for no other reason than to be gentlemanly.
"Well, I think you're looking at the wrong person to recruit," Jisken responded warmly, deciding to play along. "I already just made a move here from Igen, and I don't think I'd take too kindly to the cold. Not exactly the best or the brightest, either, except maybe about leatherworking." He shrugge, and having finished yet another dish, he rummaged around for one of the dirtier plates, leaving the relatively less-stained ones on top, as well as noticably closer to his newfound cleaning partner.
"So, is your name classified because of official business, or can we have introductions?" He asked, pausing from his work to see if she was at least somewhat receptive to his attempts at kindness.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Apr 04, 2009 6:33 pm
For reasons unknown, it always surprised Firyal when she found someone who was willing to go along with her flights of fancy. It wasn't that there were so many people in the Weyr who were unwilling to play games of pretend, but mostly they were people under the age of twelve, and she didn't care for people that young, as a rule. Ordinarily the very practical-minded weyrfolk ignored her when she spoke her fantastic stories aloud. Sometimes they told her that until she Impressed a dragon, she should get her head out of the clouds. She hated hearing that. And so she was pleasantly startled when her fellow kitchen slave responded as though she had not just told him an utterly implausible story about her origins and her purpose.
The problem was, now that Jisken had responded to her and was playing along, she wasn't sure how to continue. She had really expected him to give her an odd look and give up on trying to converse with her. Or perhaps just demand reasonable answers to his straightforward question. But he had done neither, and now she was expected to go on in this vein, with levity and irony. She didn't know if she could pull it off, but she would give it a go. The young man was obviously a Candidate, and those never stayed too long - except the ones who Impressed, of course, but those who Impressed rarely had time to associate with people they'd met on kitchen duty. If she embarrassed herself, it would not be remembered. She would not be remembered. She rarely was.
The warmth in his tone gave her reason to hope, though, that maybe he would be forgiving, even if she did make a fool of herself.
"Igen. Yes, I can understand why you would be reluctant to move to a colder climate. Ista must be a welcome vacation." There was some brilliant conversation fodder. She had to come up with something else. He had given her more to go by. "You're probably underestimating yourself. Everyone's the best and the brightest at something. Just not all of it's useful by society's standards. At least leatherworking is useful."
As she reflected on how poorly she was doing at making conversation, Firyal reached for a new dish, having finished scrubbing the last of the tubers from the plate. She had failed to notice that Jisken had taken one of the nastier plates and left her with less difficult pieces to clean. At least, it hadn't occurred to her that he might have done it on purpose.
"I can give you the name I use when I'm recruiting in Ista," she said, trying to get into the flow of the conversation. She'd been the one to introduce herself so oddly. Now she had to abide by it. "I'm known by Firyal here. What about you? Your name, I mean. Is there a secret reason I shouldn't know it?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Apr 05, 2009 11:26 am
"It is a nice change of pace, actually," Jisken responded with a nod before getting back to his work. The woman would at least play along with him, and it was a start, especially now that they had a common ground established in the scenario she had concocted. He scrunched up his face as he rubbed vigorously at the last piece of tuber on his current plate, and then he reached for a new one, again seeking out the particularly filthy plates.
"Firyal. Nice name," he commented, still working away at the plates. "Mine's Jisken, though I have to admit that I, too, am on a mission." At this he grinned, a somewhat childish gleam in his eye that thoroughly suggested he was joking. "You see, my father sent me here to sell leather, and listed me as a Candidate so that the Lord Holder wouldn't think of me as a journeyman and expect me to pay tithes. It's a nice little loophole, really." Never mind that the boy was clearly not old enough to be a journeyman, and regardless of his candidacy he still paid tithes to the Lord out of respect more than fiscal requirement. However, it occured to Jisken that Firyal wouldn't know these things, and so he felt justified that his story made sense.
Almost too much sense, he thought, and hastily he added, "Though I have been instructed that, should I find any hard working good citizens, I'm to try and recruit them to the tanneries." He nodded his head to the boy beside them, who was currently pretending not to listen to their conversation. "I've half-convinced this one over here," Jisken said, and all at once, the boy became immersed in his work again, which caused an amused smile to light up the young man's face. It was then that he learned that being the one to catch the youngster listening in was far more amusing than being the youngster himself, as he had often been at Igen.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 06, 2009 8:59 am
Firyal had no difficulty believing that Ista was an improvement on Igen. She had never been to the hot, dry place, but she was certain that tropical Ista was an improvement. Certainly it was better than her native Nerat, which couldn't compare to Ista as far as climate. Which reminded her: she should really draft a letter home, letting her mother know that she was still alive and well, and had not yet given any thought to returning home. But that would have to wait until later. And none of the things crossing her mind had any bearing on their conversation.
She glanced briefly at the younger of the two males who sat opposite her and could see that he wanted desperately to join in on the older people's banter, but couldn't quite figure out how to go about it, and wasn't sure how much of what they said was spoken in jest, and how much was genuine. She remembered being that awkward age, when you were just old enough to grasp innuendo and some of the subtleties of language, but not all of them, and most entendres went unnoticed or misinterpreted.
Firyal had been a precocious child, and it hadn't taken her long to figure out the multiple meanings and connotations words could have, but even now she struggled with separating her own wishes from what was reality. For instance, when a young man was solicitous, a part of her hoped it was because he was flirting with her, but the larger, more pessimistic part of her told her he was just being friendly. Which was the conclusion she had reached regarding Jisken.
She didn't have to feign interest and intrigue when Jisken claimed that he, too, was on a recruitment mission. He didn't change his story about knowing something of leatherworking, and so she guessed that he had been telling her the truth when he mentioned it before.
"Your father sounds like a shrewd, shrewd man," she said, trying not to consider the fact that the idea he'd mentioned was viable. She didn't want to think of anyone knowingly cheating the Weyrs. She knew it happened, but she heartily disapproved of the practice. His continuation of his story reassured her that he wasn't really part of a nefarious scheme. It wasn't that she was gullible, but the concept had made a great deal of sense from a financial standpoint.
"Maybe I should ask to be assigned somewhere with less competition: I don't know if kitchenwork can really compare to tanning. Except that it smells much better, and there's more enjoyment to be had in sampling the wares."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Apr 07, 2009 7:44 pm
"Nah, you'll recruit more than I will for sure," Jisken responded, holding a plate close to his nose and taking a whiff for emphasis. "Trust me, after years of experience, I can tell you that even the foulest of rotten tubers smells better than freshly cut leather. I have to say I would never wish to sample the wares here, though, if you intended rotten tubers to be included on the list."
For a moment, his expression remained perfectly calm as he began to return his plate down towards the washbin to continue his cleaning. Then, just before his hands touched the water, he began to chuckle to himself, rising slowly to a full-throated laugh as he shook his head, causing his bushy hair to jostle about.
"Are you always this creative, or is this just because I'm the new guy?" Jisken asked through a stifled laugh, unable to keep the facade up any longer. "I mean, most people just do something along the lines of, 'Welcome to the weyr, here's your chore list for the week' or something."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Apr 08, 2009 9:10 am
"Granted, rotten tubers aren't among the best samples a kitchen has to offer," Firyal said acknowledging the point by inclining her head while it was slightly tilted.
"But on the other side of mealtime, when we're preparing the food, the sampling's pretty good indeed. How do you think I got to be the shape I am?" She made a gesture to indicate her body, with its soft, fleshy figure. Doughy, if a person was being unkind, as Firyal frequently was when thinking of her weight. "I am a very good advertisement for the quality of the food we serve. Are you sure you won't reconsider and join the dark - I mean my side? We have biscuits."
His laughter forced her to grin in response. She was still of an age to be very self-conscious, and she occasionally worried that her laugh was annoying. Better to just express her amusement and mirth silently, through grins and quick glances. They were not so obvious, but that could be a good thing, particularly when a person was supposed to be working. Who ever was in charge might be inclined to interpret joy and hilarity as inefficiency. Firyal hated when that happened, as it tended to result in reassignments all around.
"Ah..." There was a difficult question to answer. Because she was rarely like this with people she didn't know, but when she was comfortable in her company the answer was yes. She decided to answer frankly, even though that would probably be something she ended up regretting.
"I assure you that it's not because you're new. I'm actually spendidly awful at making acquaintances and dealing with new people. What I should have been doing throughout this exchange was avoiding eye contact and saying very little, if anything. You've been privileged enough to hear the dialogue that goes on in my head, and that is what I would like to be able to say when I meet new people." And she probably shouldn't have tacked on that last bit. Too late now to take it back, though.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Apr 09, 2009 1:38 pm
"Awful?" The thought caught Jisken off-guard, and he gave the young woman a confused look. Normally, the little ruse she played would have suggested quite a bit of social flexibility to him, but perhaps it was the only way she knew how to make conversation, or maybe she'd just been using it to avoid actually opening up to him. Either strategy was plausible.
"I thought you were doing pretty good," he said with a shrug, getting back to work on the plates. "I was half-convinced to quit the tannery and everything." Though he smiled, his body seemed a bit more stiff than before, not quite as warm and welcoming. He scrubbed away at his plate without looking up to meet Firyal's eyes, and then finally he paused, shaking his head.
"I'm sorry--I didn't make you uncomfortable, did I?" His hazel eyes seemed genuinely concerned, and the smooth facade faded from his expression, revealing a more youthful side of his consciousness that, like Firyal's, was excessively self-conscious. "I didn't mean to push you into a conversation or anything: I just thought I'd make small talk, since we're going to be here for a while and everything..." He began to scrub idly at his plate, though the lacked the punctuality it previously held, his shoulders slumped as if he had just been caught doing something wrong.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Apr 09, 2009 7:19 pm
"Awful," she confirmed, nodding for emphasis. She didn't sound particularly perturbed by this admission, since it was a fact of her life and she frequently found herself explaining to people that they'd done nothing wrong, and that she was just not good at making casual conversation.
"But I thought I was doing rather well, too. I'm enjoying talking to you." She didn't mention that it had been significantly easier to talk to him from the obviously pretended role she had assumed, rather than speaking as herself.
"If you'd prefer, I could do the 'Welcome to the Weyr' thing. If that would make you more comfortable. I'm pretty good at that, you know. I put on my most welcoming smile and giggle and twirl my hair while enthusing over how excited I am to meet you and how I hope we'll become good friends." Her tone rose about six notes as she described her Welcome to the Weyr routine and she widened her eyes and wore a rather vacuous expression and fatuous smile. Clearly she was making fun of someone, though in actuality it wasn't anyone in particular, but rather a certain type of person who happened to get on her nerves. She still wasn't being herself when she did this, but it was easier.
"Alternatively, I'm fairly conversant in awkward-Candidate conversations. Your name, my name, respective Holds and Crafts, hopes for the future. And so on and so forth. If you'd prefer that." She looked up at him quirked her eyebrows in query while leaning forward to grasp the next dish. "I'm best at making up stories, though. It's how I pass the time when I don't have undercover agents for dishwashing companions."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Apr 12, 2009 10:00 am
For a moment, Jisken had been genuinely concerned that he had somehow made the situation awkward, so he was somewhat surprised by Firyal's new display, though her acting was admittedly amusing. While it may not have brought anyone specific to mind for her, Jisken found himself thinking of a girl who had attempted to gain his affections when he had been living at Igen. It would have worked, maybe, if she hadn't been so clingy towards Jisken and so utterly...un-clingy to the children he watched over. Either way, the display brought back fond memories, and he found that he couldn't help but smile once again.
"No thanks," he responded to the last bit, leaning forward as she did so he could reach for a plate of his own. "I've done the awkward-Candidate conversation before, multiple times at Igen and a few times here. It never really reveals anything about people, unless you end up talking to one of the snobby ones who think they're destined for a bronze." As he said this, he rolled his eyes, remembering yet another Igen candidate who had gotten his just desserts when, after five Hatchings, he still had yet to Impress.
It was beginning to occur to him that he could be homesick.
Brow furrowed, he went back to his work, suddenly at a loss for words. Since they'd just been on the awkward-Candidate tangent, he found the only thing he could talk about was the looming hatching, now that it had been brought to the forefront of his mind. "Are you going to stand for the Touching? I've heard it's soon." For all her talk, Jisken had yet to even confirm Firyal as a Candidate, so if nothing else, he would at least know if he was to be seeing her again.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Apr 12, 2009 10:34 am
Firyal was relieved to see a smile return to Jisken's face. She had been reluctant to chalk this encounter up to another one she managed to turn awkward. It had, after all, begun so promisingly. Even though it had begun promisingly on a completely false premise. They'd both known the premise was false, at least, and so the misrepresentation couldn't possibly be interpreted as malicious. Firyal generally wasn't. Malicious, that is. She could occasionally be vindictive, but that was about as close as she got, and mostly she couldn't sustain her anger long enough for that. It took too much energy to be angry.
"Well, if you're certain," she said, flashing a grin. "Were you a Candidate at Igen?"
She hadn't known a Candidate could "transfer" Weyrs. It kind of made sense. If a dragon found you an acceptable possibility, the possibility should be good regardless of location, but it had just never occurred to her. Still, the way Jisken had phrased that, it did sound like he had been a Candidate at Igen before coming here.
"And I know all about those young men who are destined for bronzes," Firyal said disdainfully. "Which is not to demean the bronzes. They're magnificent beasts, and anyone who Impresses one has every reason to be proud. It's the ones that go into it with that sort of pride that get to me, because then it's not really pride. It's more like arrogance."
Firyal was guilty of being very proud in certain areas. She liked to imagine herself a self-sufficient person, and truly resented when people tried to coddle her. Which was fairly contradictory, since she also liked to feel like the people she surrounded herself with would be willing to protect her. Not that it had any bearing on her present circumstances, she reminded herself.
"I've been given permission to attend the Touching," Firyal told Jisken. "It's coming up in a sevenday or so, according to the healers who keep track of the eggs' progress."
Not that she'd spoken to him, but word had eventually reached her. The Headwoman had asked her if she planned to attend, and given her permission to take a day off from her chores to do so. Touchings never lasted so long, in Firyal's experience; the gold dragon was not usually so patient with those who were tromping around and handling her eggs to allow them to stay for long periods of time. She'd mostly said she would attend because it gave her a full day free. Those were hard to come by.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 13, 2009 3:46 pm
Jisken could no longer help it, and at her question let out a wistful sigh. "I stood at three Hatchings back home, and then I heard about the double Hatching over here, so I decided to at least put myself in the Candidate pool, with all the eggs floating about and all." Finishing yet another plate, he found he had to reach the slightest bit farther to grab at a plate, since it would seem they were running low.
"Hold on for just a moment," he interjected, standing up to his impressive six feet of height and walking over to one of the drudges, seemingly asking for a second load of plates. She shrugged in some general direction, and with a nod he followed the instructions given, moving towards a shelf and lifting a basket filled with cups used for klah earlier that day. He returned to his seat, basket in hand, and began to clean out the cups, almost happy to have some new task allotted to him.
"I'm not sure, though," he said, once he had sat down again. "I think after this one I might head back to Igen, just to stay with family and all. I mean, I left a lot of people back home for a rather unlikely cause, and it's not as if there won't be more Hatchings there." Shrugging his shoulders, he nodded at one of the doors leading outside before returning to his work. "I think the only thing keeping me back is the fact that summers here seem like they'd be much more relaxed than at home, what with the weather and the lake and all."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
