[Log] A Pleasant Lunch
Who: Laelle, Sakher
When: Day 25, Month 7, Turn 3, 7th Pass
Where: Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr
What: Sakher and Laelle have that lunch of theirs.
Notes: Backdated.
Promptly when classes release, Sakher sets off from economics with his books under his arm, his destination the doorway to Laelle's history class. He arrives a couple of minutes ahead of schedule and loiters until the class releases, at which point he studies the exiting, waiting for that one particular person as long as necessary. Then: "Laelle!" he hails the girl, with a wave as he steps forward to meet her.
As one would expect, the Nerat girl's greeting is not nearly so excited. She looks over when her name is called, expression flat but for the surprised lift of her brows to be so exhuberantly hailed. "Sakher" she says in return, stepping out of the flow of departing students. Oh, and this is another one of those small talk moments. There's a beat passing before she recognizes it. "Your class went well?"
"As well as ever," admits Sakher wistfully. "My economics teacher lectured again on something I can remember my brother Leonid explaining over breakfast when I was, oh, ten or twelve or so. I suppose not everyone understands or cares for the subject as my family and I do, but all the same." But he shrugs, and offers his arm chivalrously to Laelle before setting off, should she care to take it or not. "And yours, Laelle? How was your history? Did you make any more?" he asks, lightly teasing.
"Well," Laelle begins, her voice dull and even. "Some of the crafters have not had the benefit of learned company since they first left their mother's skirts." As generous as she tries to make it sound, it is a known truth that the crafters and riders tend to be a bit rougher around the edges than the Blooded students. He offers his arm and Laelle looks at it - she covers her lack of desire to walk with him so by deftly handing her armful of hides and notebooks to him. There. "No, sadly. We covered history without anything historical occuring. Today's topic was, sadly, not one I see much use in. You are ready for lunch?" And ready to stop discussing the most dull of studies.
Laelle's books he'll take without complaint, joining them with his own as he sets off down the hall. "I am ready, if you should be," Sakher returns. "And, it is a most trying shame that those of us who have benefited from such teaching should be made to suffer it again. But--oh, you should enliven your history class, create something memorable--historical!--if only for those present. I try to make all my classes so memorable, though I am sad to say that I occasionally do not succeed in this. And your other classes, Laelle--did they fare better for you this morning?"
"I only had one this morning," Laelle explains as she walks with him, skipping over the bit about making class memorable, as that is unlikely to be readily within the restrained girl's nature. "The rest of my time was spent studying with Seleda. She has trouble with her mathematics and much of my purpose here is to see her excel."
"Her mathematics? Does she need a tutor in the subject?" Sakher asks, mildly curious. "I happen to know a nice young boy who is quite excellent in the subject--that one, and economics, too," he tells her with an exaggerated wink. "The other classes--I enjoy them, but those are my first loves, as they should be for any Nabol man: the better to calculate our marks with. Which is your favorite--I don't think I've gleaned that much from you yet?" Across the bowl they head, Sakher only meandering a little in the setting of his course. For the most part, he takes a straight shot.
"I know a man with a talent for math and economics, but I would call him neither young nor nice," Laelle returns, some small twist coming to her lips only to fade again immediately. "But no, I do not believe she is in need of a tutor beyond myself." Then she realizes the wink and blinks to have missed his meaning. "Oh, you," she says, putting on a polite smile and the strange, placating sound of sweetness to her voice. "Should I need help in either subject, for myself or for Seleda, I will keep in mind to seek you out." The small smile remains but her eyes are a touch distant as she chastizes herself for the blantant cue so curiously missed. "I enjoy ethics," Laelle says, happy to change the subject. "I would guess that it is the discussion of ideas that suits me rather than the balance of numbers."
"You are welcome to," encourages Sakher, bemused for the length of time it takes Laelle to catch on to his joke. "But ethics--with the former Weyrleader G'thon? That is another interesting class. Have you a topic for the assignment in that--the one of twelve words? Perhaps it is a more Nabolian tendency," he muses on her latter words, sliding between subjects fluidly as they arrive at the living cavern, "to enjoy the constancy of numbers over ever-changing ideas. We are a very constant hold, after all. Though, myself, I would have thought Nerat, with its own agriculture, should be as interested in its business as Nabol is in its own. Or perhaps that's simply not something your women choose to engage in?" He tilts his head slightly, studying Laelle in curiosity.
"I have," Laelle answers of her ethics assignment. But she does not readily share her topic. "I find economics..." her eyes narrow thoughtfully, "A compelling subject, though I admit I am more interested in the how and the why than analysis of statistics. Perhaps it is, as you say, because I am a woman. I fear that I may have little use for the subject in my own life, but I find the connection of economics to society to be a fascinating study." She turns to meet his curious gaze. "Nerat is a tradition Hold. The details of agriculture, while constantly in the background, are not pressed upon many women."
"Ah, Nerat is like Nabol, then," agrees Sakher sagely. "My sisters are not very interested in the runnings of our Hold, but why should they be? They marry and leave to their husband's families, after all; I've only one left unmarried now, my only younger sister Etienne. My brothers and I handle the Hold's business--though of course it is more my cousin Lord Sorel's realm now than ours. If you should like to take a seat, and save it for us and give us a place to set down our books--" Sakher gestures across the room, beginning to fill with lunchtime crowds "--I should be able to gather us our lunch in the meantime. Do you have any preference as to what I may get you?"
"I would suspect that any knowledge is better assimilated into one's thinking when it has a ready application," Laelle says, her own manner of agreement. She gives a nod for his request that she find them seats and reaches for her own books and his. "Something small and light," she requests of her meal, pressing a small and seemingly grateful smile to her face.
Sakher, after passing over the books, and seeing Laelle off, he turns himself to head to the food tables. Two plates, basically the same, are prepared to fit her recommendation as much as possible, before several minutes later he sets off again in the general direction he saw Laelle go. He finds her again without too much in the way of trouble, moving to set the plates down and seat himself. "I hope this is satisfactory?" he asks, not beginning to eat just yet. "And--what else of Nerat? What is it like? I must confess some amount of curiosity about other places, ones I have only visited once or twice in passing for parties."
Laelle has settled at a centrally located table with plenty of space, his books on one side, hers next to her. She waits, sitting stiffly in her chair with her arms folded on the table until he returns. Then she takes the plate from him with a smile. "Thank you. This looks very nice." She doesn't not start eating immediately, either, though her fork is at the ready. "Nerat is lovely. Warm and sunny and breezy. The food is varied and always fresh. The accommodations spacious and comfortable. For me, I doubt there is anywhere else that could compare." And with that she pokes her fork at what much be, in comparison, a rather substandard green bean. "And Nabol?"
"Nabol is like that--Nabol was like that," says Sakher, looking first to Laelle, then frowning slightly as he glances downward at his own plate and begins to slice into the food. Unlike his companion, he at least doesn't seem so picky about his protest. "It will be so again," he offers after a moment, with a crooked smile as he looks back up. "For now, it is not so cheerful a place, but we hope and we mend. You must be homesick for it: Nerat."
"Time will heal it," Laelle offers of Nabol, quiet but trying to be encouraging. "It sounds as if great improvements have been made already." She bites into a green bean, chewing slowly, testingly. "I do miss Nerat. Seleda and I came to Caucus mid-term and so we stayed over the break to catch up. It has been a long while since I've been home."
"They have been, of course," Sakher says, nodding quickly. "My cousin Lord Sorel--" He doesn't finish that sentence, though, breaking it off in favoring of letting his brows slide upward at her latter words. "You should visit; I expect your parents, and your uncle and his wife, should much like to see you and your cousin Seleda again. They likely miss you more than you even miss them; I understand most parents are like that. Do you not have a rider friend, perhaps, who would be willing to take you on some day you have no classes?"
"I expect that we will go home sometime soon. Or Seleda will at least," Laelle says. "I have work here and considering her condition, I would not expect that the Weyrwoman would appreciate my leaving for too long a time. I doubt she would make any attempt to dissuade me, but if there was a time to leave her short handed, this would not be it." She takes another forkful of vegetables. "You were saying of Lord Sorel?"
"Lord Sorel makes many changes, for the better," Sakher demurs, glancing down as he works mannerfully through his meal. He spends a couple of seconds poking at vegetables. Then: "It is very thoughtful and kind of you," he comments after that moment of silence, "to put aside your own desires for the Weyrwoman. I am sure she is most grateful to have found a capable and reliable assistant in you; most, I expect, are not quite so fortunate."
Thoughtful and kind. And least part of that describes Laelle well enough. She is, however, quick to brush aside the compliment. "Thank you. I'm not sure she is as satisfied with me as she might like, but I do endeavor to help her in what ways I can." And it is after this that she does indeed look thoughtful, forkful of potato poised in mid-distance to her mouth. "I enjoy the work," she says then, with a small smile before the bite makes it to her lips - then there's a pause as she chews. "It may be minutiae, but there is something satisfying in being useful."
"I do understand," agrees Sakher with a nod, meal paused again in favor of conversation--at this rate, it will take him some time to finish eating. He questions Laelle, "You do hidework for her? Scheduling meetings, keeping the minutes of them, for the Weyrwoman? It sounds very fascinating, very... very advantageous, to be so closely twined with the Weyr's leadership.?
The cant of Laelle's head changes, tipped to the side and slightly forward, subtle acknowledgment that her position could indeed be advantageous, if someone wanted to look at it like that. "Hidework, yes. Checking that ledgers are accurate, files in order, schedules set, letters delivered. I try to handle the mundane things to allow her to focus on more meaningful tasks." She pushes a bit of food around her plate with her fork.
"I should like, one day," reveals Sakher, "to have my own assistant. But of course I doubt I shall have that opportunity--my current placement does not demand such; I have no such hidework or scheduling concerns." He actually sounds wistful about it, before his shoulders lift and he continues his meal, with glances over at his companion. "But we talk too much of business for a pleasant lunch. What do you, Laelle, like to do in your freer time?"
His own assistant. Laelle cocks a faintly skeptical brow at that, agreement that he's unlikely to need such a thing. "Perhaps someone to tend your wardrobe," she offers in place of hidework. But she is ready to let him change the discussion from work to leisure, if not particularly helpful in it. "I tend to fill my free time," she admits. "Though sometimes it's nice to walk by the lake, or watch the bowl." Yes, quiet time and people watching would be Laelle's idle activities.
"That would be something to consider," Sakher agrees with a thoughtful nod as he mulls over Laelle's suggestion before letting the conversation slide on. "Only watching, and not participating? A shame! I should rather speak to people--to meet every one I can--than to simply sit by and observe them as they go on their ways. That is too... detached, for my taste--though I don't mean to slander your prefered ways, of course. Not everyone is as social a creature as I am, I understand, and the world should likely be less bearable if it were."
"Indeed," Laelle replies, a faint smile twisting on her lips. Definitely less bearable. "I'm not often alone, however. Classes, working for the Weyrwoman, spending time with Seleda, I do talk to a variety of people. I suppose I am just not often gripped with the need to share." She drops her fork to take up her buttered bread. "And you? What do you enjoy in your free time?"
Sakher's nose wrinkles slightly, commiserating with Laelle. "Yes, I am far busier here myself than I ever was at home, but it is, in general, a very pleasant sort of busy. But in /my/ free time? When I've not homework, I have my clothes, of course--" he offers a bright grin, only half-joking in light of earlier comments "--and my meeting new people. I write letters home often, too, to keep my brothers informed of my goings-on. They were very sad to see me go, you see, and so I feel obligated to keep up our correspondence."
"Yes, I've correspondences too, though hardly as many as you must maintain." But Laelle's immediate family not nearly so large as Sakher's. "Do all of your brothers keep you as thoughtfully aprised as you do them? I would imagine they miss you a good deal." At least that's what her words say, her tone is rather flat. Maybe it's just that she's getting ready to take a bite of her breath.
"Most people," concedes Sakher, "do not have quite the wealth of brothers that I have. Even discounting my brothers Zoeken and Dawkins--we three are not close currently--and my eldest brother the former Lord Odern--who is somewhat... inaccessible at present, I've still three brothers I must keep in touch with, and my younger sister, and my mother, and occasional letters to my other sisters and friends. It is--almost--quite the hassle to keep up with whom I have written and to whom I haven't yet. I have thought, sometimes, how much easier it should be if my family were like, for example, yours: small, close... But I imagine I would soon be bored, and wear out my welcome with more of my brothers than I have. With my family, I at least have options as to whom I should like to work with today."
Laelle has no reaction for whom Sakher keeps in touch with and does not, none at all. She's busy with her bread and daintily licking a smudge of butter from her fingertip. She does, however, turn her attention back to him when he speaks of keeping track of it all. "I often write a letter to all of them, that they may read aloud or pass around at leisure. Seleda has the greater feat of also keeping up with cousins from her mother's side. Lately, though, she has been more occupied with preparing a dress. I believe our new etiquette instructor has immediately won her favor with the upcoming festivities." Did she just change the subject? Yes. Perhaps discussion of her family and Sakher's future employment is not to her liking.
Sakher nods slowly to this, thoughtful. "I prefer to write individual letters, so that they are more personal to us," he gives his take on the subject. "It would be very difficult, I think, to make so general a letter that I could please all my brothers with it--and it would be a very boring letter, too. But--oh! The party! Yes, I spoke with the instructor about it myself, and am helping in some of the planning, too. Parties are another hobby of mine, you know. I am to go see my Weaver next week, when I've a day off from classes, so that I can see about my own attire for the event. How are your preparations proceeding?"
"What I can share with one, I generally feel that I can share with all of them. I have nothing cover to impart. I do supplement them with individual letters as well, though I cannot claim that I avoid 'boring' no matter to whom I'm writing." Laelle takes another bite of her bread, less gingerly and more decisive, a punctuation for her statement. And then, for discussion of the party, something in her tone comes more easy, rolling where it was once reserved and even. "I'm having a dress altered for the occasion by one of the local seamstresses. I think she is quite promising and with the right embelishments, it should be suitable. I am uncertain, though, about the mask itself. As much as annonymity lends itself to the nature of the event, I cannot help but think that a mask of lace would be more striking."
"I've an idea of the color and cut I should like," says Sakher between bites, grinning brightly now as the topic shifts to one of his favorites. "But my Weaver will help me finalize that, of course. The mask... I've no idea of what I should like in one. But lace, for you--that sounds very elegant, and I doubt anyone else would consider it. You should wear it."
"I wonder if it would be odd to have my identity so plain when everyone else's is obscurred," Laelle ponders honestly. She gives up on the rest of her bread, dropping it on the plate with a flick of fingers. Done. "Have you happened to have heard what colors others will be wearing? The color of the decorations, perhaps? I imagine that blue will be as common as ever. I believe Seleda will be in blue."
"I have not," Sakher confesses, "but if you like, I can ask around for you. Decorations are still not finalized entirely, though blue sounds quite pleasing to me. It is a common color here? I like it on occasion, though I do believe my own attire will be--well, now that would be telling, wouldn't it?" he decides, breaking off with a crooked grin. "If I tell you that, you'd know exactly which is me, and that would ruin our fun."
"If you are the only man to wear that particular color," Laelle says, a twist of teasing amusment curls her lips, a wry grin to match his crooked one. "And actually, if you do hear that a particular color seems popular, I would be happy to know." And for that she adds, "Thank you." As she seems finished with her meal, she arranges her utentils on the plate and brushes her hands on her napkin one last time.
"I will ask around for you," assures Sakher with a nod. "And be sure to let you know. My own attire, I will keep secret for now, and we shall see if you can recognize me still," comes a tease, accompanied by a grin that's brief in light of his next words. "But I believe our time is at an end, faster than I anticipated: I've class beginning in a few minutes."
Laelle tucks her head, thanks again for his promised information and agreement that lunch is indeed at its end. "Yes, I should be off as well." She pushes her chair back and stands, gathering her things and readying to take her dishes to the bin. "Good luck with your weaver," she offers, choosing to comment on that rather than on the rest of their discussion or their conversation in general.
"And you with your own," says Sakher as he rises when Laelle does. He lingers a moment after she's gone before cleaning up his dishes as well, then his books to head off to his next class.