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 Posted: Sat Apr 04, 2009 7:32 pm
Firyal preferred to work as a server at dinner than to be one of those preparing the food or - worse - cleaning up the dishes and the leftovers at the end of the meal. She didn't care for the mad, bustling atmosphere of the kitchens, or the long hours spent cleaning it up, only to have the process repeated the next day. It was worse around Hatchings, but fortunately the next Hatching was some time away, and she had received permission to stand at that one. Every so often she tried her luck on the sands without much hope of Impressing.
She wasn't often given serving duty, though. Not because she wasn't good at it - for someone who wasn't as slender and streamlined as the average Pernese citizen, she managed crowded rooms very well - but because she was given to distraction. For that same reason, she wasn't often assigned to run errands, due to her tendency to become so absorbed in the stories she created to amuse herself that she forgot what the purpose of her errand had been to begin with. She wasn't simple, or even unreliable, but she had proven herself a dreamer early on in her tenancy at the Weyr, and no one would believe that she was capable of being more responsible now that she was older.
However, this evening meal required more hands than usual, and a Holder was dining at the Weyr, and so it was required that things run more smoothly than usual, and that the Weyrleader's table was kept well-supplied and the goblets of its occupants constantly full of a wine that would go well with the fish they would be dining on. That was Firyal's task: to go to the wine cellar and select an appropriate wine. She wanted desperately not to be mistaken in her choice, in hopes that she would prove herself not as irresponsible and distractable as those in charge seemed to think she was, but she knew nothing about wines.
Before setting off on her mission, she cornered one of the younger Candidates who was new enough not to realize that Firyal had little to no authority over her and who she thought might have been a Holder's daughter, and tried to get some sort of advice from her, but the girl had been unable to help her, and had suggested that she find a tall, slight young man with dark hair named Kiriwar. He had been an apprentice vintner before being Searched, and would probably be able to help her.
"I'll never be able to pick him out," Firyal said. "If you see him before dinner, send him to me, please."
The girl agreed to do so, and went to look for the Vintner. Firyal waited nervously, hoping she would have enough time.
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Posted: Sat Apr 04, 2009 8:45 pm
The dining hall was all a-bustle and Kiriwar was not entirely sure why. He tried asking a few of the servers as he made his way into the hall, but all just waved him off, maintaining the busy status of the room and leaving the Vintner ever confused. Clearly, he was not going to get the answers from someone else and would have to hunt them down himself. So he strode in carefully, using his height to try and catch a glimpse at the far table, to see what was going on over there – was that man so important—oh. At that moment, things clicked together and his eyebrows rose. It was not often that a Weyrleader made his way here, he did not think, so he could now easily understand why things were so fast-paced this day. Everything had to be in tip-top form to prove that things were worthy of the man’s presence. Kiriwar sighed and then chuckled as he shook his head, moving along carefully, avoiding getting in the way of any server so as to keep away from any trouble with them.
It was because of this that, when he was approached face-to-face by a young woman, he automatically lifted his hands in a peace gesture and began to apologize, only to have the situation quickly explained to him. Aha~ He smiled charmingly and gestured for her to lead the way back to the server in question – Firyal – to see what he could do to help her. As they approached the server, the girl who had led him branched off to do her own thing, leaving him to introduce himself to Firyal on his own. He approached her with a broad smile, offering a hand to her and bowing his head politely. “Good eve. I’m Kiriwar, the Vintner,” he greeted, brown eyes warm as he looked the girl over. She looked sweet, and a bit dreamy… He smiled more. Women like that were a favorite of his. Not too strong, not too meek, and very imaginative. “Would you show me to the cellar? I’ll happily help you pick out a proper wine.”
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Posted: Sun Apr 05, 2009 4:18 pm
Firyal was relieved to see the holdbred girl returning with a tall, dark-haired young man trailing behind her. It hadn't taken the girl very long to find Kiriwar, but every moment Firyal spent waiting was another moment in which the headwoman would have the opportunity to look up from her work and notice that Firyal had not yet gone on her assigned errand, which would be a new record in forgetfulness in the Weyr, Firyal was certain, and not one she was anxious to hold. As it was, others on kitchen and server duty were giving Firyal strange looks as she lurked by the door to the kitchens, making an excellent obstacle for the servers to navigate while trying both to be unobtrusive and easy to locate.
Finally her anxiety prompted her to move in the direction of the pair, just in time to see the female Candidate break away and leave her male companion, presumably Kiriwar, to make his own way. She stopped a little short and waited as he closed the rest of the distance wearing a broad smile that unnerved her somewhat. In her experience, such expressions were only worn by the unbearably cocky or those with high expectations, and these were people to be generally avoided. She was already contemplating how to politely tell him that she'd manage without his assistance when he offered her his hand and inclined his head.
With well-concealed reluctancy Firyal put her hand in his as she listened to his greeting. His expression gave him the appearance of being a pleasant, warm sort, but she was still leery. She was always leery around strange men, though through concentrated effort she'd improved a great deal since coming to Ista Weyr. Still, she was quick to take her hand back once he released it.
"Good to meet you, Kiriwar. I'm Firyal. I really appreciate your help in this." She looked up at him with her head tilted slightly to one side so that it was harder for him to look her in the eyes. Well, that wasn't her conscious reason for doing so, but it was an all right side effect. She really did it because she didn't like looking straight up at people who were notably taller than herself.
"The cellars are this way," she said over her shoulder as she began to lead him through the kitchens, deftly weaving through the kitchen workers at their stations and the servers fetching plates and trays. She didn't like crowds, and found this sort of bustling crowd overwhelming, but she was accustomed to it, and able to ignore it at need.
When they came to a well-sealed door she fiddled with the handle for a bit before yanking it open to reveal a very dark passage that she knew to be stairs, though it was difficult to tell until a person took their second step through the doorway and found himself tumbling down the stone steps. She reminded herself to think about this, rather than how his hair seemed to look like it wanted to curl.
"Mind the steps," she cautioned him. There were usually glows, but for whatever reason the stairway was dark that day, and she was in too much of a hurry to search for glows. She hoped there would be some in the cavern which held the barrels and casks and bottles of wine the Weyr kept. Ordinarily the place was dimly lit, but not so much that reading the labels became impossible. Instead it was just a bit eye-straining.
"I don't know what you need to know to make a choice," Firyal told Kiriwar apologetically. She wasn't ashamed at her ignorance, but she was sorry about the delay it would cause.
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Posted: Sun Apr 05, 2009 7:07 pm
Kiriwar could see the leeriness in Firyal’s eyes and briefly wondered what he could do, if anything, to take that away from the conversation. It was a bit upsetting to find someone unsettled by him – did he smile too much? Step too close? He wished he knew, so he could keep it in mind for a later time. But for now, he simply resigned himself to watching her signs carefully, ready to step back and give her room if it seemed she would need it. There was no reason to risk this conversation becoming curt and unpleasant. He smiled kindly this time, brown eyes warm, before nodding his head. “A pleasure to meet you, Firyal. And I’m happy to help.”
He noted the way she tilted her head, cocking his just the slightest, before grinning sheepishly and lifting a hand to run it awkwardly over his tiny braid. “Apologies, for my height, missus. But I think crouching down in front of you would make me look a bit silly.” A moment later, she was on the move, and he had to trot a little to keep up with her, skirting carefully around servers and cooks, while trying to get a good look around the kitchens – it was definitely a most fascinating place, being the one the provided him with the food he so loved to eat. But he did not get to see much this time around, before she stopped in front of a door. Sealed. Good. Kiriwar had to smile at that, his entire demeanor softening as he found himself about to step into a place he was more than familiar with.
Firyal’s warning about the steps was heeded, and Kiriwar stepped down carefully, shuffling along the steps to keep from falling in the dim lightly. He narrowed his eyes a little to see better, before scanning the area to see the variety of wines, bottled, casked, and barreled, a broad, comfortable smile on his lips. “Hardly a problem, missus. What is they were eating? Fish, yes?” he asked, stepping forward to start skimming the labels, clicking his tongue lightly as he tried to pick the best. “And how good – expensive, even – does the wine need to be?”
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Posted: Mon Apr 06, 2009 2:42 pm
Firyal felt a little guilty that she had been so quick to dismiss Kiriwar's politeness. Very likely there was nothing for her to worry about or suspect when it came to him, and she was just being ridiculous. If anyone had cause to worry about the person they were dealing with, it was probably Kiriwar. Firyal's lack of conversational ability around new male people had led in many instances to remarkable achievemants in awkwardness. Mostly beacuse of her tendency to read too much into everything, as she had done with Kiriwar, who had probably just been trying to be friendly.
"It would, at that," Firyal agreed before turning to lead him through the kitchen to the wine cellar. She'd meant to say that she didn't hold his height against him, and that it would have been unfair for her to do so, considering the large percentage of the population she would then be forced to hold grudges against based solely on their height. There were so many reasons to dislike people, she didn't really think cosmetic ones like height (or weight) should be among them. Particularly since she, herself, was overweight for her height.
In the dimly lit cellar Firyal was both more and less comfortable. More, because there was at least light, and less because she was very alone with a near-perfect stranger. Her upbringing until coming to the Weyr had stressed that she should never put herself in such a situation, and the threatened consequences had always been dire. It had initially taken a great deal of nerve for her to make herself be alone with any man who wasn't related to her, though she'd improved drastically since coming to the Weyr as experience proved that she would come to no harm. Her friend, Kaskel, had been instrumental in that transformation.
"Yes, fish. Packtail, actually," she said, naming one of the nastiest, hardest to land fish in Pernese waters. They were also a nightmare to prepare. "And since it's to be for the head table, where our Weyrleaders and the visiting Holder will dine, I suppose it ought to be a good quality vintage? I don't think it's a Lord Holder, though, so it needn't be the best."
Mentally she cursed the lack of knowledge she had. Most of the time everyone in the Weyr was in the know when it came to guests and affairs and politics, at least within the Weyr, but somehow Firyal had never managed to be one of those who knew. She usually found things out third or fourth hand, and was often the last to know. It didn't bother her unduly, as she didn't tend to embroil herself in Weyr happenings of the dramatic, attention-getting sort, but in instances like this it was frustrating.
"I didn't mean to be short with you earlier," she said softly, not as oblivious to the potential for mirth her phrasing held as she sounded. "I'm sorry."
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Posted: Mon Apr 06, 2009 3:05 pm
Kiriwar could definitely sense that Firyal was getting to be more comfortable with his presence, but he didn’t push any conversation on her, preferring to let her speak first. It was always best to put the one who was less comfortable in charge of the conversation, so they could lead the way and keep things pleasant for them. So he just continued to scan labels, moving into some of the older wines, but certainly not the oldest. Finally, he drew a wine from the shelves, then another, considering them as he chewed on his bottom lip, trying to figure out which would be best. A white, definitely, but he considered selecting a second, sweeter wine for the tastes of others that would still compliment the taste of the fish. Finally, he did, drawing several bottles from the shelves and cradling them carefully in his arms, carrying them back over to Firyal, before pausing when she spoke.
“Packtail?” he echoed, before laughing and smiling broadly at her. “Very brave of the kitchens to try something like that! I don’t think I could ever prepare it myself.” He chuckled, shaking his head a little – this missus really was a quiet and shy one – an apology? That certainly was not what Kiriwar was expecting at that moment, and he blinked down at her for a few moments as he tried to come up with something to say. Honesty was always the best policy, he reasoned, and a little teasing could potentially lighten the mood.
“Well, missus, with how tall I am, I don’t think you could be anything but short with me,” he said with a kind smile, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “But, truly… It’s perfectly fine. I know I can be a bit off-putting, with my big smiles, and I’m rather forward compared to some. There’s no need to apologize to me. Just know that I mean no harm, to you or any other. Help me carry the bottles up?” He adjusted the hold he had on the wines, hoping she would take one or two. “I picked white wines – the taste goes well with fish. One is a more dry wine, probably suited to the tastes of the gentleman, but the other is sweeter, for any missus dining with them. Feel free to offer both – some men, like myself, prefer a sweet taste. I have a sweet tooth.” He flashed a grin now.
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Posted: Wed Apr 08, 2009 8:26 am
Firyal watched carefully as he looked over the selection. She didn't know on what criteria he was judging the wines, other than what the rest of the meal would be, but as she watched him select some bottles and overlook others, she tried to hazard a guess as to what made certain wines acceptable and not others. The most obvious similarity was that they were all white wines. So she assumed she would be safe in saying that fish went well with a white wine. Anything else, however, she couldn't say. Her own experience of wine was limited, since it was not encouraged for those with tasks to complete to imbibe, and so it was beyond her ken which wines were sweet or dry or fruity. To her uncultured palate, most white wines tasted the same, and sweeter than the reds. She didn't really care for them.
"Packtail," she agreed, thinking that he wouldn't be laughing if he'd been one of the people in charge of preparing the rotten fish for consumption. She'd gotten out of having to do it on this occasion, but there'd been plenty of others when she'd been up to her wrists in packtail slime, trying to get the most meat out of the butchered body.
The words which followed his laughter made her forgive him for laughing. He did understand, then, the effort that went into a meal of packtail. Luckily for him, he would probably never have to prepare it. Firyal loved living at the Weyr, and she knew it was worth all the work that was required of her to be near the dragons, the heroes of Pern, but she really hated being put on packtail duty. She was willing to beg, borrow, steal, and blackmail to get out of it.
"I suggest you never try," she said. "It's beastly."
And her apology had prompted an awkward situation. Nothing new there. She tended to apologize a great deal. Her closest friends had once tried scolding her for it, but that had proven counterproductive, as it had only prompted further apologies on her behalf. But that was with her closest friends. Others, when faced with one of her inappropriate apologies, tended to react as Kiriwar did: bemusedly.
It pleased her that Kiriwar seemed to have at least noticed that she'd left him an opening for levity, even if he did go on like everyone else, much too effusive about assuring her no apology was necessary. If she had been of a more devious mindset, she would have used this sort of thing to her advantage, since most people tried to convince her that somehow they had been the ones at fault. She wasn't like that, though.
"Don't mind me," she said, hoping that would encourage him to drop the matter. She'd never found the perfect phrase to make people quit babying her after an episode like this.
She would have asked which bottles she ought to take, but it became apparent when she noticed which were the most precariously balanced in his arms. She had no idea if there was a certain way she should carry the things, and so Firyal cradled the two bottles she'd taken like a bouquet of long-stemmed plants as she listened to him explain his choices.
"Which is which?" she asked. "Or should I expect the diners to know?" It was possible she'd be asked to serve the wine at the high table, which was an honor, but a responsibility, too.
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Posted: Wed Apr 08, 2009 8:46 am
Kiriwar watched Firyal for a long moment after she told him to not mind her, not sure of what to think of that. Certainly, her being here made it hard for him to not mind her, and he had found her apology to be rather pointless, as he was the one who had a tendency to make people uncomfortable. But, at this point, it was too silly to argue the situation any further – an argument would certainly dash any potential for the two of them to have a happy friendship in the future, should they continue speaking. He really was thinking too far ahead though. He smiled as she took the wine from him, making sure she could hold it comfortably before stepping back to give her space once more. At her question, he looked a touch surprised, having not realized that she wouldn’t know and feeling a bit guilty for that.
“Oh, apologies, missus. They are a touch hard to tell apart. But the ones with this label,” he lifted his arm holding the sweeter wines, “is the sweeter white. This label,” his other arm shifted upwards a touch to indicate which wines he spoke of, “is the drier wine. It would be best to at least recognize the labels – or at least have those serving recognize the labels, in case they need offer the wine to those drinking, so the drinker may choose which to have. But it should be easy. The wines have the same maker, but have different labels, so they’re different enough.”
At that, he lowered his arms again, smiling broadly at Firyal. “Would you like me to try helping out? I know I’m not the most likely of servers, but I’d be happy to help with the wine serving, at least… I know a fair bit about tastes and scents, so I can sort of… charm the wine onto those who will have to drink it,” he said, laughing quietly.
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Posted: Wed Apr 08, 2009 9:42 am
It had been a little embarrassing to be forced to ask him to further identify the wines, but it would have been more embarrassing to offer the wrong one. And he was only a Candidate. They came and went. There was no need for her to concern herself over their opinions, most of the time. It was usually better for the Candidates if she didn't, since she had so far been unerring in befriending only those who failed to Impress. If Kiriwar was smarter, he wouldn't make an effort to get her to like him. If she was nicer, she would warn him. But no one ever took her warnings seriously, so what was the point?
"Thanks," she said. "I really know nothing about wine."
Firyal peered closely at the labels on the bottles he showed her, reading them and trying to commit to memory their differences, and not only their differences, but which ones were which. She had little opportunity to practice memorising things which were written, and so in the end she came up with a mnemonic device to assist her. Personally, she felt identification might have been easier if all of the sweet wines were made by one vineyard and all the dry wines another. But she didn't have much say in the matter.
"As for helping out...I'd appreciate it, but I'm sure you'd rather eat your meal with everyone else. Servers don't eat until later. Even if we're just pouring wine." His remark about charming the wine onto people went over her head. That is, she heard it, but she didn't understand what he meant by it, except that she had the vague notion it had to do with convincing people to drink more than they ought to.
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Posted: Wed Apr 08, 2009 4:06 pm
Kiriwar watched Firyal commit the labels to memory, before nodding slightly and adjusting his hold on the bottles. "Well, why don't we head upstairs and get the wine all set and ready, then I'll let you get back to work?" he asked, moving towards the stairs that would let back up to the kitchens, carefully balancing the wine he was holding and minding his step, not wanting to trip and risk breaking the bottles.
This whole situation felt awkward again, tense and as though he was pushing too far. He glanced back at Firyal, blinking slowly, before smiling crookedly and beginning to move up the stairs.
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Posted: Thu Apr 09, 2009 12:25 pm
"Y'know," she said when they were about halfway up the stairs, "It's nothing personal. I'm just not good at making people's acquaintances. You haven't done anything wrong," Firyal said, sensing that yet again she had said something she hadn't, or phrased it so that she would be misunderstood.
As she followed Kiriwar's lead up the stairs she reflected on their interaction. She didn't understand it. The other day she'd had a perfectly good conversation with a new person, and it had made the ordinarily dull task of washing dishes considerably more enjoyable. It had, apparently, been a freak occurrance, and was unlikely to occur again. Probably she'd already committed too many errors of awkwardness with Kiriwar to be considered redeemable anyway. But she didn't want him to come away with a bad impression of her.
"And, it's not that I wouldn't appreciate the help," Firyal said, sensing that yet again she had said something she hadn't, or phrased it so that she would be misunderstood. "I'm just fairly used to Candidates, particularly the male and teenaged variety, being especially keen on getting as much food into themselves as they can manage."
Oh, yes. Because that wasn't awkward. Now it sounded like she was lumping him with everyone else. She hoped he wouldn't see her roll her eyes, because it was not directed at him. It was more self-directed disgust than anything to do with him. The rueful grin that followed was more of the same. This was why she preferred to meet people when there were other people she already knew around, so that she could leave conversation up to them, and just sit there being quiet and smiling pleasantly until she could think of something stunningly brilliant to contribute.
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