[Log] Using R'dur
Who: Brijana, R'dur, Yselle
When: Day 21, Month 11, Turn 4
Where: Living Cavern, Telgar Weyr
What: Yselle makes things awkward when she interrupts R'dur and Brijana.
Telgar Weyr's Living Cavern
This huge cavern is sufficiently roomy to hold a large portion of the Weyr's population without feeling cramped. There's always a bustle of activity here. Fragrant dishes are constantly in prepartion for mealtimes: currently for the evening meal. Drudges are always present, either cleaning under Pierron's watchful eye, or helping fetch and carry. A myriad of glowbaskets and many ever-lit hearths make the cavern warm and inviting despite its size. The scents of cooking meats, baking breads and pastries, and the pungent aroma of spices hang mouthwateringly in the air. It is little wonder that those seeking to relax nearly always find their way here to do it.
A short tunnel jaunts northward out to the bowl and the merry sounds of cooking, chores, and laughter echo from the kitchen at the southeast end of the cavern near the easterly passage to the rest of the lower caverns. Within the lower caverns is an entrance to the infirmary weyr to care for injured dragons and riders.
Contents:
PLAYERS: Brijana R'dur Pierron
OTHER: Telgar Serving Tables
Obvious Exits:
Inner Caverns Kitchen Bowl
Not surrounded by any entourage of friends, or would be suitors, Brijana's taken up shop near the hearth, chin propped lopsidedly against one hand and a look of eternal boredom sunk in her eyes. Well, it's either boredom or the fires in the hearth are just so mesmerizing as to warrant a glazed stare. On the table near her elbow is a large bucket of pea shells, and at her other elbow is a smaller bowl of peas. There's not that many in the bowl.
R'dur shuffles indoors quickly, grimacing as he glances back behind him at the cloudy sky. He's dusted with a flurry of snowflakes, melting quickly in the warmth of the cavern. "Of course it quits once I get inside," he remarks to the door, frowning. He shakes his head, combs fingers through his hair, and heads not for the serving table but for the hearths and the blazing fire. Brijana is an unexpected bonus, for R'dur's expression brightens when he sees her, and he cuts that way. "Working diligently, I see," he says with a note of teasing, shrugging out of his damp jacket as he stands next to her seat.
The voice drives Bri into abrupt movement, startled out of her reverie, and while one hand immediately dives into the bucket of unshelled peas, the other attempts to be nonchalant in wiping the thin trail of drool from the corner of her mouth. Then, and only then, does she recognize not only the voice, but the man who seats himself next to her, and mild accusation darkens her sienna eyes. "You don't have'ta sneak up on a girl like that. I thought you were the blas... the cook. She wanted these peas." All 20 of them in the bowl. "It's snowing?"
R'dur tries vainly to hide his grin behind one hand; his apology isn't very sincere. "I'm sorry; I, ah, didn't mean to startle you," he tells her, shaking his head. He glances down at the bucket, brows arching. "Let me guess: you were supposed to be done already? At this rate, you'll be at this all night. I suppose I'd better help--if I don't volunteer, you'd probably guilt me into it, right?" He tries to sound reluctantly resigned to the task, but fails. As he picks up a pod of peas and shells it, he adds, "I'm not sure if it's snow or rain--it's wet, at any rate. And there's just enough of it coming down to get you cold and damp."
Brijana looks flatly dubious, reading his expression with wide-set eyes and the complete lack of sincerity in his. Her response, however, is hardly the most mature of replies in the form of a stuck out tongue, and her movements slow now that it's definite the person is R'dur and not the belligerent cook. "I never guilt anyone into doing things they'd rather not do. I... encourage," she settles on the final word with an unrepentant grin. With a partner at her side, Bri's work picks up some speed, though she's still fairly lazy about the entire process. "Slush. I guess there's nothing out there to stick much and cavort around in."
R'dur smiles indulgently. "Of course," he agrees with her, working efficiently to shell the remaining peas; he doesn't waste time when he's working. "Ah, cavort? No, nothing like real snow yet, but it shouldn't be too much longer, I don't think. I mean--" he glances back over his shoulder at the doors again "--it's almost winter." A shrug. "So. Uh. How was your day? I mean, aside from dealing with that pesky cook who wants all these peas finished?"
Dark eyes disappear, shiftily darting to her lap and then inching back up to stare intently at the pod in her hand. "Ah," Bri exhales, guilty guilty guilty. "I've been working on the peas since breakfast. But," she protests before accusatory eyes can come her way, pod waving in the air in defense of her actions, "There was more peas earlier! I swear. Then some riders came in and they were ever so nice, and we chatted, and they ate handfuls upon handfuls while we talked. It wasn't snowing earlier." Presumably, that's an excuse for why they were chatting.
Yselle has arrived.
R'dur cuts his eyes upward to Brijana, pausing in his shelling; he nods after a moment. "All right. Well, let's finish these, anyway, and the cook can have them, at least," he tells her mildly, continuing to shell. He and Brijana are seated together by the hearth, shelling peas; the former is still a bit damp from the slushy snow mix coming down outside.
"Mummy, can I hold the baby?" - Yselle is surrounded by children, or more specifically, little girls: the oldest, about five turns of age, is the one who's spoken. "No, let me, Mummy," the other little one says. "Well, how about we find some chairs to sit on and you can both have a turn," the weyrsecond suggests - "Hello, Pierron, - But be careful dears, she's asleep," said baby is just a bundle of fabric in her arms.
Fueled by guilt, Bri begins to work faster, fingers nimbly working through a small handful of pods. "They're supposed to go in some casserole dish later tonight," she explains to fill in the silence. R'dur's mild response only serves to flush the fair girl's skin with more guilt, and every so often her eyes cut upwards to seek out the brownrider before quickly busying herself with her work again. "Did you want something warm to drink? It'll help more than the hearth I bet." Yselle's arrival, children or no, isn't noted at all. Small wonders.
It's hard to miss the clamor around the Weyrsecond, for all that Brijana does it masterfully; R'dur glances curiously over and pales, faltering in his pea-shelling, when he sees Yselle and children and baby. "Ah. What? Oh, a--a drink," he mumbles, flustered. "No, thank you. I mean, I, uh. Well, I might get something in a little bit. You know, later. After this." He holds up the pea pod in his hands, flushing, and redoubles his efforts. "It's, well. There should still be enough time to get them in that--that casserole for dinner, if we... Well."
Yselle arcs one of those caterpillar-like eyebrows at the pea shelling. "You might have to share her," she tells the two girls, "Although her daddy seems busy right now. Want to sit at our table? Who wants to be weyrleader today?" the two girls squeal and begin to squabble over the chair in which K'ran usually sits. "Hello," Yselle offers for the pea-shelling pair, adjusting the baby in her arms. "Shh, girls, Weyrleaders don't behave like that."
"I could get you a drin- ... k. Something warm, klah? Steamed milk?" Bri continues to ignore Yselle's presence, right up until the point where they're greeted, and only then does the angular face lift to flash the Weyrsecond a congenial smile. "Afternoon, ma'am. Your brood seems to have grown by one. Congratulations are in order, I suspect?" It's a subject untouched by the pair, if that sharp elbow nudge that's none too subtle towards R'dur is any indication. Not that that jerk movement changes the sweet tone of Brijana's words. "Did you need the daddy for anything?"
R'dur stiffens and hesitates before glancing up at Yselle, offering her an uncertain smile. "Ah, hello, Yselle," he greets her delicately, eyes cutting back toward Brijana momentarily. "I--that is, we were--I mean, I was just--how are you today? And... them?" He glances briefly at the two older children, then at the baby in Yselle's arms, biting his lower lip. He winces at the elbowing, his own expression turning guilty. "I, uh, no, no. I mean, I can--I can get it myself, really," he tells Brijana. And perhaps to prove that, he sets down the peas he was working on and heads to the serving table. He returns quickly with a mug of klah, which he sets down on the table and proceeds to ignore. Instead, he shoots worried, nervous glances between Yselle and Brijana.
There's something odd about the weyrsecond; a few weeks ago, Brijana's presence was enough to turn her into a stuttering mess, now all it seems to merit is a certain distance in Yselle's voice and expression, "I see you're using him," she says pleasantly. "If he'd like to come hold his daughter at any time, he's welcome, otherwise, I don't want to interrupt." - "Mummy, it's MY turn," wails the older of the two girls, "Get off Vanny!" "Neither of you can hold her if you fight," Yselle says sternly, hooking her usual chair with her ankle, and seating herself. The younger girl climbs up beside her and tries to squirm on her lap. "You're cheating!" wails the older. "We're fine thanks, R'dur," Yselle adds, "Ysalia had a bit of a rough night, but she's asleep now."
"You should go hold her," Bri suggests in false warmth for R'dur's benefit. Certainly, she wouldn't be ordering him to do so, and that half smile wouldn't be her way of guilting him into doing something - noo! "I think I can manage the peas, since I don't know how long it's been since you've seen your own child." A gentle toss of her ruddy hair is dismissive of any tension that might have arisen from Yselle's timely arrival, and busy fingers keep her gaze occupied from skirting across to the babe in the greenrider's arms. While she's nowhere near done, the girl gathers the bucket under one arm, and the sparsely filled bowl held in her other hand. "Nah," Brijana begins easily, no doubt about to move towards a quieter area of the caverns, "He offered assistance, I accepted. Using him's what you do, ma'am. The child looks absolutely lovely though." Not that she can actually see the swathed bundle. "Afternoon."
R'dur watches the feuding children with trepidation, still holding a half-shelled set of peas in one hand. "Ah. Oh. I'm sorry," he tells Yselle. "Er. Do you--I mean, I'm almost--any help?" he asks, in his usual disjointed fashion. He finishes a couple more sets of peas, then glances back at Brijana. "I--All right," he agrees, nodding. "I--well. I'll... be back." He sets aside his work, looking highly uncomfortable as he shuffles over to Yselle. "I--Can I?" he asks the greenrider, gaze drifting downward to the baby Ysalia. Then, aghast, R'dur stiffens and glances back at Brijana, now cleaning up to leave. "Bri," he says, half-pleading.
"Brijana," Yselle says, her smile hardly slipping, "That is enough. Put your claws away, thank you," now that's /definitely/ her weyrsecond voice. She finally manages to settle the children, one on a chair, one on her lap. She holds the baby on top of the girl on her lap, so they're both holding her. "You seem busy, R'dur," she says, in a much warmer tone. "As I told you, I'm fine."
Bri's movements stiffen in response to Yselle's, the pleasantries of both expression and voice steadfast. "Yes, ma'am." If she's reprimanded, it's hard to tell, but when she begins to move again, it's with the purpose to continue to give the happy family some space. Bucket secure, bowl secure, she gathers up the remnants of what R'dur's shelled, and as she moves back towards the kitchen, her path inadvertently crosses that of Yselle, her brood, and the brownrider. "I'll see you later," she murmurs, leaning up to press a kiss to R'dur's cheek. "Dinner? You can eat some of the fruits of your labor then." Polite, thinly so, she spares Yselle a smile.
R'dur flushes as Yselle admonishes Brijana, not looking at either woman. Instead, he shifts his weight awkwardly, silent; he doesn't speak until Yselle turns back to him. "Ah. Busy? Well, I mean, I guess--I mean, not really--no more than usual," he concludes. He blushes as Brijana passes by and presses that kiss to his cheek, but he doesn't pull away from her. "All right," he tells the woman with a nod and a fleeting smile. Then, once she's gone, he glances sheepishly at Yselle. "I'm sorry," he apologizes to her on Brijana's behalf.
"Hm, maybe I should talk to your brother," Yselle says, looking at Brijana thoughtfully. "I think... I wonder if I'sai has some spare time? Or Breena, but I hate to ask her." The kiss doesn't even raise her eyebrow again. "Breena, did R'dur tell you that we're most certainly not going to live together? And I don't think I need to ask him before I add that neither of us has any interest in continuing our relationship. So, you are in no danger from me. However, we /do/ have a child, so you'll have to get used to us spending /some/ time together, and that," she eyes the other woman, "Is not negotiable. I'm sorry if it hurts your feelings, but my child deserves to have her father around as much as he wants to be." That settles, she disengages the baby from the little girl and offers her to R'dur. "I'm sure she'd love to see her daddy."
If her name were Breena, she might turn around. As is, Brijana's steps towards the kitchen are smooth, a few stops along the way to chat affably with the various lower caverns women and men she's familiar with. It's all preaching to the choir even if she had heard.
Brijana walks off towards the kitchen.
Brijana has left.
Yselle's speech results in one long wince for R'dur, his expression pained. He doesn't attempt to break in or interrupt, however, only sighs when Brijana exits, looking guilty. "I--I'm sorry," he repeats to Yselle, edging into a seat next to her and accepting the baby gingerly. "I--Um. I think she's grown already," he notes, watching Ysalia and skirting further talk of Brijana.
Yselle looks slightly irritated. "Hm," she mutters, thoughtfully. "I think I /will/ talk to I'sai about her." - "Oh it's not your fault, R'dur. She's jealous, but she's going to have to learn to control her temper, and maybe she should be thinking about whether she really belongs here, if she can't cope with this." She looks up, smiles, "Congratulations, though. - Yes, well, she feels twice as heavy already. She should, the way she's eating."
"No--please don't," R'dur asks, frowning. "I mean, I don't--don't get her in trouble. It's--it's nothing. Really. We've, ah, well. It's sorted out; it's just... hard. I mean, it's not about... not coping--I mean, /I/ can't cope and--it's just... Let me talk to her, okay? Please?" He blushes, glances down. "Er, yes. I mean, I guess they--well, I remember how quickly Alidaeth grew, and, well. I don't think it'll be quite that bad, but still. They grow up fast, you know? It's been... it's been a week already, and I still don't--I still can't..." A shrug.
"It's not about trouble," Yselle says, resignedly, "It's about whether she fits in here. Does she honestly think that this will be the last time this issue will come up? Whether you like it or not, Alidaeth will chase, sometime he will catch, and Ysalia could be the first of several children from you. Plus, she needs to not talk to me like that. Look, I know it's early for her, but she really needs to be able to deal with this stuff, so, okay, ask her to try and be polite, if she can't be nice, and work on it together? Otherwise you're both going to be unhappy, and honestly? It won't affect me terribly much, but it might split the two of you up." - "R'dur, I'm not going to push you to do anything with our daughter, but if you don't do it, you won't get this time back? Just... it's up to you."
R'dur, still frowning, nods slowly. "I--I understand," he tells Yselle after a moment. He shakes his head, turns back to Ysalia. "I--know," he adds. "And if you want me to do anything--anything--just ask. Really. I don't mind. I just don't--I don't want to bother you and just show up uninvited and get in the way and--and--well." He shrugs again, then offers Ysalia back to Yselle hesitantly. "I should--go," he notes awkwardly. "But if you want, I can--I mean, we could meet somewhere, say, tomorrow, and... stuff." A shrug; he doesn't wait for her agreement before exiting himself.
Yselle rolls her eyes a little, but smiles, looking down at the baby, murmurs something into her hair, and then gathers up the other girls, who are now fighting near the hearth.