A morning interlude
Who: Penny and Essdara
Where: The lake in the southern bowl
When: Early morning, Day 15, Month 10, Turn 1 of the 7th pass
Southern Bowl
The bowl floor is a broad expanse of gravel and dust, packed flat over decades of dragonweight landing on it. Kept free of vegetation, the only color variation across the vast hollow of the bowl are the dragons, in good weather often found sunning on low ledges or sprawled along the floor itself. The well-worn, charcoal-grey walls of the bowl are nearly vertical, far too steep for even the most adventurous climber to attempt. The rim of the bowl, marked by a rainbow of perching dragons at all times of the day, is topped with massive stone spires that stretch upwards into the blue vault of the sky. There are seven in all, great black fingers of stone that seem, from where you stand, to touch the clouds.
Here the lake dominates the bowl floor, wind-scattered waves lapping at the gravel shore. A few scrawny shrubs to the southeast mark the fenced-in enclosure of the feeding grounds, bordered on its southwestern edge by the lake itself. Following the wall here will lead to the entrance to the weyrling complex and, past that, the stairs that lead to the guest weyr. On the other side of the lake is a vast, yawning tunnel curving upwards slightly, connecting to the long road leading away from High Reaches Weyr. Adjoining the exit is the high arch of the infirmary entrance.
It's a clear autumn day and the air has become crisp, stirred by breezes cool enough to redden cheeks. The sky is cloudless and a dazzling shade of blue.
It is 08:00 on day 15, month 10, turn 1 of the 7th Pass.
Essdara is sitting on a stone not far from the edge of the water. Her expression is wistful, yet sad, as she stares down at her hands in her lap. A chilly morning in autumn, she doesn't seem to notice her breath lightly misting in front of her as she picks at the bandage on one hand.
It's no longer strange for early-rising Weyr residents to see Penny out for a walk around the bowl, but today she's lacking her companion -- the ever-present Neiran is nowhere in sight, and her figure strolling about seems oddly lonely on this chill morning. She doesn't seem to mind the lack, her expression featuring the sort of dreamy contentment that comes with rising early and momentarily forgetting one's cares in mild exercise. Nearing the end of her walk now as it brings her by the perimeter of the lake, she spots Essdara holding her lonely vigil on the rock and makes her strolling way toward her. "Morning," she says softly, a smile curving her lips, when she's some distance away to avoid startling the girl.
Essdara looks up at the approaching smith, and offers a forced smile. "Good morning, Penny. Good morning for a walk?" She glances around at the still mostly empty bowl. "I can definately agree there, though mine kind of stalled here. I love the lake, and it'll be frozen soon enough."
"A bit chilly, perhaps," Penny admits, glancing about the bowl, eyes lingering on the spot of the bowl rim where the sun has yet to clear its ridge. "It is a lovely spot, surprising amidst all this emptiness." She gestures, a broad sweep of her hand to indicate the cleared bowl. Perhaps it's something in Essdara's smile, or something she noticed before she speaks, but her own smile is somewhat softer this morning, less impossibly cheerful and more just warm, friendly -- the different between the glaring noonday sun and the soft light of a glowbasket. "Do you mind if I join you for a little while?" she asks, head tilted inquisitively.
Essdara shrugs, and motions next to her. "Pull up a rock." She grins a bit, that wistful edge back in it. "Not as nice as sitting on a sand beach, but it has it's merits. For one thing, you don't spend days cleaning out your clothing afterwards." She looks out at the water. "It's nice, here, but I admit, it's nice to get out to somewhere warm now and then. You from somewhere warm?"
Penny takes a seat on the rock with a nod of thanks, sighing a bit as she does so -- she has been walking for quite a while now, after all. Casting a surprised glance at Essdara, she says, "Yes -- from Southern Boll. You don't get much warmer than that. You sound as if you've spent some considerable time there, or someplace similar." The question in her voice at the end conveys the source of her surprise -- Penny's dark skin and faintly accented voice betray her origins, so it'd be no surprise for someone to guess she was from warmer climbs, but she seems curious as to Essdara's experience with the beaches.
Essdara chuckles, and shakes her head, "Oh, no, just the once, a short while ago. Only my second time out of the Weyr, in fact. Ista, to a beach. It was a nice day, and certainly one I won't forget any time soon. But with things cooling down here, it really showed the advantages. Not that I'd ever leave the Reaches, of course." A shrug. "Still, won't be going back any time soon, so I will just make do with the desolation here."
The word 'desolation' seems to strike some sort of chord with Penny; her brows furrow slightly, and she regards Essdara thoughtfully for a few more moments before turning her eyes out towards the frigid lake waters. Eventually, she says, "I can't imagine living one's entire life here, waiting for those few precious moments of summer and then being thrust back into winter headlong again. Perhaps some day I can convince you to visit Southern Boll -- once you go there, you'll be hard-pressed to find a reason to come back here." Her love for her own home is almost tangible, her own wistful smile playing about her lips.
Essdara says, "Perhaps so. But, really, the winter isn't so bad. I gives people an opperunity to be closer, more intimate, get to know each other in ways most people never do." A soft sigh. "I can't imagine, in the warm places, wanting to be near other people very much. Even just where we were, it felt too warm to me, and it's not exactly high summer now." She stretches a bit. "Besides. Snow is beautiful, in it's way."
"It is," Penny agrees, "I had never had much experience with it. Oh, I'd seen it before, when I traveled with my father, but to wake up one morning and see the snow fluttering down... it is beautiful." That said, she reaches up to tuck a lock of hair back behind her ear; only a moment's respite before the wind tugs it back out again. "I think you'd be surprised. I can't speak for Ista, but at Boll, family is one of the most important factors in a person's life. My mother was from Boll," she explains with a smile, "and every winter when I was a child I would go back there with her and her family. I can't imagine a friendlier, more tightly-knit group of people." So Penny comes by her warmth of personality naturally.
Essdara chuckles softly, "I fear, in the end, I'll no more be lured to Boll than you would be lured to live here. And then, there is that other thing you mentioned... Family. Everyone I know, everyone I love is here. For the moment, at any rate. TO leave that, to go somewhere where I don't know anyone... No, thank you. I'll never understand how the Caucus people do it, to be honest. I guess only being here a few turns makes it easier. KNowing that, when it's all over, you'll be gone, away, back to where you belong..."
The cook's chuckle elicits an answering laugh from Penny, as she gives a little shrugging roll of her shoulders. "I'd be the first to admit I have a bias," she agrees. A moment's silence follows, a silence in which she's no doubt considering her next words. "The Caucus... is a necessary evil, I think. For me, the lack is made somewhat easier by the fact that I had realized a long time ago that I was giving up 'home' as I knew it simply by being what I am." She cross her arms in front of her, leaning forward and resting her arms on her knees. "I must work doubly-hard than my male counterparts, and especially now that I'm going to be working for a mastership, I can never really go back home. And if I am to become a master, I can never really create a new family or a new home; I simply would not have the time." She suddenly seems to notice the somewhat rambling quality of her voice, she blinks and smiles. "I imagine there are at least somewhat similar sentiments, at least among the crafters here. For the most part, we've already left our homes long ago."
Essdara nods softly. "I can't pretend I like a lot of the people who have come here for this. But some... I do. I feel a lot for them. And I guess none of them, none of /you/, will be the same when the time comes to move on from it. I do respect that, very much, and hope it all works out for the best for you all. You, especially... I can't even imagine it. At least in my trade, in my home, women and men aren't that different." A soft sigh. "Different enough, at times, but still not that different." She picks up a small stone, and tosses it at the lake, making little ripples. "Some of you," And her tone changes, subtly, towards that sadness she carries, "I am not wanting to leave, even though I know it will happen."
The girl's solemn words have certainly piqued Penny's interest, and her concern, though outwardly she merely nods, her eyes still focused on the water with only a few flickers now and then back towards Essdara. "I've often wondered what it's like for you and the other residents of this place, having strangers come in and be such a closely-twined part of your lives, only to go and disappear a few turns later." Her voice is still quiet, a side-effect no doubt of the silent morning and soft lapping of the water, but it holds a questioning note, a subtle invitation for the girl to continue.
Essdara doesn't seem inclined to confide much, answering the commentary in an equally quiet voice - this time, though, the undertone is more bitter. "It's something we'll get used to, I am sure. Getting close to people you know will one day be gone. But, then, it's better than Thread. At least you see it coming. Every time my family and friend goes up, I wonder which it will be that doesn't come back. So, I guess you could say we're getting used to losing people around here. Makes it much harder to risk getting close to people, too."
"You've friends and family among the riders?" Penny's eyebrows rise a little in admiration. "I'm afraid I don't really know many riders; they're always so busy, and more than a little intimidating. I certainly wouldn't be able to do what they do." Not about to push anything with someone she barely knows, she seems perfectly content to allow for an ostensible subject-change.
Essdara says, "Hard not to, growing up here. My parents are riders - not many of us even still who have both - and a lot of the people I grew up around went on to Impress. T'zen, for instance, known him all my life. He's like... An older brother." A fond smile. "But they are busy a lot, yes. And when they aren't, they are thinking about it. Or seeking escape from it. No, I couldn't do it either, that much I know. There's a reason I've never Stood.""
Penny nods, her expression momentarily grim as Essdara lists off the riders around her. "It must be unbelievably hard for you, watching everyone close to you put their lives on the line. Much easier to be where I stand, watching the faceless wings fly Fall after Fall." A pause, and then, "I've met T'zen, actually, I believe. He's... blond, right? Loud, but nice. One of those I've met whom I wouldn't mind furthering an acquaintance with."
Essdara raises a brow, a touch of her normal humor entering her. "Furthering aquaintance with? Never heard it phrased quite that way before. He's a good one to know, though. He is rather loud, and an ego the size of Pern, but he has a good heart and would do anything for a friend. I miss him, now that he's so busy." She looks out at the lake. "It wasn't so bad, until that really bad fall that took out most of 3c. T'zen, my parents... A lot of people I know, or knew, that day. It was a real wake-up call for us, in many ways. Both of the dangers of losing someone... And to make sure that you don't let oppertunities pass, because you don't know what will happen." A rueful smile. "Some of us learned that one too well. Made us a bit too... Forthcoming, even in hopeless cases."
Penny seems aware of the subtext, and though what's not being said directly causes a bit of puzzlement in her eyes, she doesn't directly ask about it. No doubt she doesn't wish to alienate the girl. "Too forthcoming?" she repeats, with a smile. "I thought there was no such thing, in a Weyr. And if there's one thing I've learned here, there's no such thing as a hopeless case." That last is uttered evenly, though there's the faintest edge of bitterness in her voice -- meant to be comforting, it's questionable as to whether Penny truly believes what she's saying.
Essdara sighs, softly. "The first is inadvisable when the second is true. Admitting things to someone who there is no hope with, well... Not always the wisest course." An exaggerated wince. "Even in a weyr, there's the chance someone just won't be interested."
"But surely honesty counts for something, doesn't it?" Penny tilts her head, eyes shifting back toward Essdara, this time to remain there. "I can't imagine it would be counted as a negative experience to have someone admit any sort of feelings toward you. Perhaps a little awkward at first, but in the end, not entirely a bad thing."
Essdara chuckles softly, "I don't imagine, Penny, that it's that big a deal to h... The person in question. That doesn't mean the person opening themselves up doesn't get hurt, at least a little, when they are rejected, no matter how nicely."
"But if it really is a hopeless case," Penny presses, "then at least you've told this person, and you know the result. Now... now you can begin to move on." Her voice is soft, rich with sympathy and, strangest at all, the tiniest hint of envy; though what could possibly be envious about Essdara's situation, it's hard to say.
Essdara smiles sadly, looking away. "It doesn't make me stop caring for her. Or change the fact that now, when I see her, I feel that rejection all over again. No, I think it was better to have been quiet, and friends, and that I've probably lost that now."
If Penny's shocked at the word 'her', she does a brilliant job of hiding it. Looking back out at the lake, she's quiet for quite a while, no doubt rapidly trying to radically readjust her mental image of what's going on. Finally, after a very long silence indeed, she says thoughtfully, "I can't say I've ever been in your position. At the Hall, I was never interested in anybody very seriously, and while I imagine there were a few of the apprentices who took a liking to me -- I -was- the only girl, after all, in a sea of adolescent young men -- my father's presence made it quite clear that I was unapproachable." Her self-deprecation is quick, good-natured, and above all, sincere. "So I don't know of any good advice to impart, except that if you were friends before, you will be friends again, should you so choose. You and this other woman work as friends, no matter what else has come between you, and that's not something so easily dismissed. It's the advice we all hate to hear, but... give it time."
Essdara rolls her eyes a bit. "Yes, well. That's what I'm doing, unpleasant as it is." She sighs, and starts to stand, "But, I think I've burdened you enough for one morning, Penny. Nice as it's been to talk. It's getting on, and if I don't get to the kitchens soon, I'll get another scolding." And the tone there says volumes over how many of those she's gotten lately.
"It's no burden," laughs Penny, eyes crinkling a bit at the corners as she stands as well. "To be honest, it's a little bit comforting to hear about someone else's troubles for a time. It's quite easy to become completely self-involved, here at the Caucus." Her hand moves, as if she were thinking a reassuring pat on the shoulder or a squeeze of the hand, but then she apparently decides against it, lacking enough familiarity with the girl to feel comfortable in such a gesture. "I truly hope, for your sake, that things get easier for you soon. But you can always 'burden' me should you feel the need; I honestly don't mind." And female companionship, to someone raised completely around men, is something alien and comforting in its own way.
Essdara smiles. It's small, bu genuine. "I do appreciate it. I've... Precious few people I can talk to about anything like this. And it does help. And is returned, of course, should it ever be needed." A slight wave, "See you soon, I hope."
Penny's smile broadens, and she nods -- though her returning wave is just ever-so-slightly dismissive; it'll be a long time, for certain, before Penny discusses anything of her own problems. "I hope so, too! Good luck in the kitchens; seems a dangerous place for a scolding." All those stoves and pots of boiling water...
Essdara grins a bit, touching the bandage, "It's dangerous even when I am doing what I am supposed to. Scoldings are the /easy/ part." And she turns, trotting off towards the caverns.
Where: The lake in the southern bowl
When: Early morning, Day 15, Month 10, Turn 1 of the 7th pass
Southern Bowl
The bowl floor is a broad expanse of gravel and dust, packed flat over decades of dragonweight landing on it. Kept free of vegetation, the only color variation across the vast hollow of the bowl are the dragons, in good weather often found sunning on low ledges or sprawled along the floor itself. The well-worn, charcoal-grey walls of the bowl are nearly vertical, far too steep for even the most adventurous climber to attempt. The rim of the bowl, marked by a rainbow of perching dragons at all times of the day, is topped with massive stone spires that stretch upwards into the blue vault of the sky. There are seven in all, great black fingers of stone that seem, from where you stand, to touch the clouds.
Here the lake dominates the bowl floor, wind-scattered waves lapping at the gravel shore. A few scrawny shrubs to the southeast mark the fenced-in enclosure of the feeding grounds, bordered on its southwestern edge by the lake itself. Following the wall here will lead to the entrance to the weyrling complex and, past that, the stairs that lead to the guest weyr. On the other side of the lake is a vast, yawning tunnel curving upwards slightly, connecting to the long road leading away from High Reaches Weyr. Adjoining the exit is the high arch of the infirmary entrance.
It's a clear autumn day and the air has become crisp, stirred by breezes cool enough to redden cheeks. The sky is cloudless and a dazzling shade of blue.
It is 08:00 on day 15, month 10, turn 1 of the 7th Pass.
Essdara is sitting on a stone not far from the edge of the water. Her expression is wistful, yet sad, as she stares down at her hands in her lap. A chilly morning in autumn, she doesn't seem to notice her breath lightly misting in front of her as she picks at the bandage on one hand.
It's no longer strange for early-rising Weyr residents to see Penny out for a walk around the bowl, but today she's lacking her companion -- the ever-present Neiran is nowhere in sight, and her figure strolling about seems oddly lonely on this chill morning. She doesn't seem to mind the lack, her expression featuring the sort of dreamy contentment that comes with rising early and momentarily forgetting one's cares in mild exercise. Nearing the end of her walk now as it brings her by the perimeter of the lake, she spots Essdara holding her lonely vigil on the rock and makes her strolling way toward her. "Morning," she says softly, a smile curving her lips, when she's some distance away to avoid startling the girl.
Essdara looks up at the approaching smith, and offers a forced smile. "Good morning, Penny. Good morning for a walk?" She glances around at the still mostly empty bowl. "I can definately agree there, though mine kind of stalled here. I love the lake, and it'll be frozen soon enough."
"A bit chilly, perhaps," Penny admits, glancing about the bowl, eyes lingering on the spot of the bowl rim where the sun has yet to clear its ridge. "It is a lovely spot, surprising amidst all this emptiness." She gestures, a broad sweep of her hand to indicate the cleared bowl. Perhaps it's something in Essdara's smile, or something she noticed before she speaks, but her own smile is somewhat softer this morning, less impossibly cheerful and more just warm, friendly -- the different between the glaring noonday sun and the soft light of a glowbasket. "Do you mind if I join you for a little while?" she asks, head tilted inquisitively.
Essdara shrugs, and motions next to her. "Pull up a rock." She grins a bit, that wistful edge back in it. "Not as nice as sitting on a sand beach, but it has it's merits. For one thing, you don't spend days cleaning out your clothing afterwards." She looks out at the water. "It's nice, here, but I admit, it's nice to get out to somewhere warm now and then. You from somewhere warm?"
Penny takes a seat on the rock with a nod of thanks, sighing a bit as she does so -- she has been walking for quite a while now, after all. Casting a surprised glance at Essdara, she says, "Yes -- from Southern Boll. You don't get much warmer than that. You sound as if you've spent some considerable time there, or someplace similar." The question in her voice at the end conveys the source of her surprise -- Penny's dark skin and faintly accented voice betray her origins, so it'd be no surprise for someone to guess she was from warmer climbs, but she seems curious as to Essdara's experience with the beaches.
Essdara chuckles, and shakes her head, "Oh, no, just the once, a short while ago. Only my second time out of the Weyr, in fact. Ista, to a beach. It was a nice day, and certainly one I won't forget any time soon. But with things cooling down here, it really showed the advantages. Not that I'd ever leave the Reaches, of course." A shrug. "Still, won't be going back any time soon, so I will just make do with the desolation here."
The word 'desolation' seems to strike some sort of chord with Penny; her brows furrow slightly, and she regards Essdara thoughtfully for a few more moments before turning her eyes out towards the frigid lake waters. Eventually, she says, "I can't imagine living one's entire life here, waiting for those few precious moments of summer and then being thrust back into winter headlong again. Perhaps some day I can convince you to visit Southern Boll -- once you go there, you'll be hard-pressed to find a reason to come back here." Her love for her own home is almost tangible, her own wistful smile playing about her lips.
Essdara says, "Perhaps so. But, really, the winter isn't so bad. I gives people an opperunity to be closer, more intimate, get to know each other in ways most people never do." A soft sigh. "I can't imagine, in the warm places, wanting to be near other people very much. Even just where we were, it felt too warm to me, and it's not exactly high summer now." She stretches a bit. "Besides. Snow is beautiful, in it's way."
"It is," Penny agrees, "I had never had much experience with it. Oh, I'd seen it before, when I traveled with my father, but to wake up one morning and see the snow fluttering down... it is beautiful." That said, she reaches up to tuck a lock of hair back behind her ear; only a moment's respite before the wind tugs it back out again. "I think you'd be surprised. I can't speak for Ista, but at Boll, family is one of the most important factors in a person's life. My mother was from Boll," she explains with a smile, "and every winter when I was a child I would go back there with her and her family. I can't imagine a friendlier, more tightly-knit group of people." So Penny comes by her warmth of personality naturally.
Essdara chuckles softly, "I fear, in the end, I'll no more be lured to Boll than you would be lured to live here. And then, there is that other thing you mentioned... Family. Everyone I know, everyone I love is here. For the moment, at any rate. TO leave that, to go somewhere where I don't know anyone... No, thank you. I'll never understand how the Caucus people do it, to be honest. I guess only being here a few turns makes it easier. KNowing that, when it's all over, you'll be gone, away, back to where you belong..."
The cook's chuckle elicits an answering laugh from Penny, as she gives a little shrugging roll of her shoulders. "I'd be the first to admit I have a bias," she agrees. A moment's silence follows, a silence in which she's no doubt considering her next words. "The Caucus... is a necessary evil, I think. For me, the lack is made somewhat easier by the fact that I had realized a long time ago that I was giving up 'home' as I knew it simply by being what I am." She cross her arms in front of her, leaning forward and resting her arms on her knees. "I must work doubly-hard than my male counterparts, and especially now that I'm going to be working for a mastership, I can never really go back home. And if I am to become a master, I can never really create a new family or a new home; I simply would not have the time." She suddenly seems to notice the somewhat rambling quality of her voice, she blinks and smiles. "I imagine there are at least somewhat similar sentiments, at least among the crafters here. For the most part, we've already left our homes long ago."
Essdara nods softly. "I can't pretend I like a lot of the people who have come here for this. But some... I do. I feel a lot for them. And I guess none of them, none of /you/, will be the same when the time comes to move on from it. I do respect that, very much, and hope it all works out for the best for you all. You, especially... I can't even imagine it. At least in my trade, in my home, women and men aren't that different." A soft sigh. "Different enough, at times, but still not that different." She picks up a small stone, and tosses it at the lake, making little ripples. "Some of you," And her tone changes, subtly, towards that sadness she carries, "I am not wanting to leave, even though I know it will happen."
The girl's solemn words have certainly piqued Penny's interest, and her concern, though outwardly she merely nods, her eyes still focused on the water with only a few flickers now and then back towards Essdara. "I've often wondered what it's like for you and the other residents of this place, having strangers come in and be such a closely-twined part of your lives, only to go and disappear a few turns later." Her voice is still quiet, a side-effect no doubt of the silent morning and soft lapping of the water, but it holds a questioning note, a subtle invitation for the girl to continue.
Essdara doesn't seem inclined to confide much, answering the commentary in an equally quiet voice - this time, though, the undertone is more bitter. "It's something we'll get used to, I am sure. Getting close to people you know will one day be gone. But, then, it's better than Thread. At least you see it coming. Every time my family and friend goes up, I wonder which it will be that doesn't come back. So, I guess you could say we're getting used to losing people around here. Makes it much harder to risk getting close to people, too."
"You've friends and family among the riders?" Penny's eyebrows rise a little in admiration. "I'm afraid I don't really know many riders; they're always so busy, and more than a little intimidating. I certainly wouldn't be able to do what they do." Not about to push anything with someone she barely knows, she seems perfectly content to allow for an ostensible subject-change.
Essdara says, "Hard not to, growing up here. My parents are riders - not many of us even still who have both - and a lot of the people I grew up around went on to Impress. T'zen, for instance, known him all my life. He's like... An older brother." A fond smile. "But they are busy a lot, yes. And when they aren't, they are thinking about it. Or seeking escape from it. No, I couldn't do it either, that much I know. There's a reason I've never Stood.""
Penny nods, her expression momentarily grim as Essdara lists off the riders around her. "It must be unbelievably hard for you, watching everyone close to you put their lives on the line. Much easier to be where I stand, watching the faceless wings fly Fall after Fall." A pause, and then, "I've met T'zen, actually, I believe. He's... blond, right? Loud, but nice. One of those I've met whom I wouldn't mind furthering an acquaintance with."
Essdara raises a brow, a touch of her normal humor entering her. "Furthering aquaintance with? Never heard it phrased quite that way before. He's a good one to know, though. He is rather loud, and an ego the size of Pern, but he has a good heart and would do anything for a friend. I miss him, now that he's so busy." She looks out at the lake. "It wasn't so bad, until that really bad fall that took out most of 3c. T'zen, my parents... A lot of people I know, or knew, that day. It was a real wake-up call for us, in many ways. Both of the dangers of losing someone... And to make sure that you don't let oppertunities pass, because you don't know what will happen." A rueful smile. "Some of us learned that one too well. Made us a bit too... Forthcoming, even in hopeless cases."
Penny seems aware of the subtext, and though what's not being said directly causes a bit of puzzlement in her eyes, she doesn't directly ask about it. No doubt she doesn't wish to alienate the girl. "Too forthcoming?" she repeats, with a smile. "I thought there was no such thing, in a Weyr. And if there's one thing I've learned here, there's no such thing as a hopeless case." That last is uttered evenly, though there's the faintest edge of bitterness in her voice -- meant to be comforting, it's questionable as to whether Penny truly believes what she's saying.
Essdara sighs, softly. "The first is inadvisable when the second is true. Admitting things to someone who there is no hope with, well... Not always the wisest course." An exaggerated wince. "Even in a weyr, there's the chance someone just won't be interested."
"But surely honesty counts for something, doesn't it?" Penny tilts her head, eyes shifting back toward Essdara, this time to remain there. "I can't imagine it would be counted as a negative experience to have someone admit any sort of feelings toward you. Perhaps a little awkward at first, but in the end, not entirely a bad thing."
Essdara chuckles softly, "I don't imagine, Penny, that it's that big a deal to h... The person in question. That doesn't mean the person opening themselves up doesn't get hurt, at least a little, when they are rejected, no matter how nicely."
"But if it really is a hopeless case," Penny presses, "then at least you've told this person, and you know the result. Now... now you can begin to move on." Her voice is soft, rich with sympathy and, strangest at all, the tiniest hint of envy; though what could possibly be envious about Essdara's situation, it's hard to say.
Essdara smiles sadly, looking away. "It doesn't make me stop caring for her. Or change the fact that now, when I see her, I feel that rejection all over again. No, I think it was better to have been quiet, and friends, and that I've probably lost that now."
If Penny's shocked at the word 'her', she does a brilliant job of hiding it. Looking back out at the lake, she's quiet for quite a while, no doubt rapidly trying to radically readjust her mental image of what's going on. Finally, after a very long silence indeed, she says thoughtfully, "I can't say I've ever been in your position. At the Hall, I was never interested in anybody very seriously, and while I imagine there were a few of the apprentices who took a liking to me -- I -was- the only girl, after all, in a sea of adolescent young men -- my father's presence made it quite clear that I was unapproachable." Her self-deprecation is quick, good-natured, and above all, sincere. "So I don't know of any good advice to impart, except that if you were friends before, you will be friends again, should you so choose. You and this other woman work as friends, no matter what else has come between you, and that's not something so easily dismissed. It's the advice we all hate to hear, but... give it time."
Essdara rolls her eyes a bit. "Yes, well. That's what I'm doing, unpleasant as it is." She sighs, and starts to stand, "But, I think I've burdened you enough for one morning, Penny. Nice as it's been to talk. It's getting on, and if I don't get to the kitchens soon, I'll get another scolding." And the tone there says volumes over how many of those she's gotten lately.
"It's no burden," laughs Penny, eyes crinkling a bit at the corners as she stands as well. "To be honest, it's a little bit comforting to hear about someone else's troubles for a time. It's quite easy to become completely self-involved, here at the Caucus." Her hand moves, as if she were thinking a reassuring pat on the shoulder or a squeeze of the hand, but then she apparently decides against it, lacking enough familiarity with the girl to feel comfortable in such a gesture. "I truly hope, for your sake, that things get easier for you soon. But you can always 'burden' me should you feel the need; I honestly don't mind." And female companionship, to someone raised completely around men, is something alien and comforting in its own way.
Essdara smiles. It's small, bu genuine. "I do appreciate it. I've... Precious few people I can talk to about anything like this. And it does help. And is returned, of course, should it ever be needed." A slight wave, "See you soon, I hope."
Penny's smile broadens, and she nods -- though her returning wave is just ever-so-slightly dismissive; it'll be a long time, for certain, before Penny discusses anything of her own problems. "I hope so, too! Good luck in the kitchens; seems a dangerous place for a scolding." All those stoves and pots of boiling water...
Essdara grins a bit, touching the bandage, "It's dangerous even when I am doing what I am supposed to. Scoldings are the /easy/ part." And she turns, trotting off towards the caverns.