Drawbacks
Day 4, month 12, turn 20 of Interval 10: Fort Weyr Living Cavern
Jiella turns up for breakfast late, meets Phara, who fills in some horrifying blanks, and Atreyan, who's serving. B'kaiv comes in to be helpful.
Not afraid of hard work: that would be Trey. The kitchen staff seems to like riding this one hard, so to speak: the candidate is on hearth duty, bringing in the large caldrons of stew and soup, and spits of meat. Currently, he's lugging in a rather large pot of vegetable soup, maneuvering it over to the table where it's supposed to be. Is he sweating? Possibly.
It would seem that Phara is adopting already the sort of wide-gaited walk a pregnant woman gets when she reaches a certain size. It's not a waddle, darn it -- that comes later. Ahem. This not-waddle is taking her directly into Atreyan's path though and once he's got the pot settled she's more than prompt to drive into the fray to get at the food. "Good morning," she says asidedly to the Candidate with more cheerfulness than hard work and early hours deserve.
"Good morning, ma'am," Atreyan replies, looking only slightly red in the face. What? That was heavy! "Can I help you with anything?" This is Atreyan's patented 'help-a-pregnant-lady-aka-take-a-break' face right here. Patented. But he's polite and amiable and he has a smile on his face despite the hard work he's been putting in-- that has to count for /something/.
There's some people who just can't manage to fully wake up in the morning, and Jiella seems to be amongst them. Though she's upright and walking, heavy eyelids make narrow eyes a bit narrower and she has the air of someone who's not quite all there yet. She's looking perfectly presentable, however - that has to count for something too! As she's in dire need of stimulants, the serving tables - and thus, Atreyan and Phara - are in her path. To said pregnant lady, before braving the table for a mug, "Must be glad it's cool out. My mother says in the summer it's like wearing furs on your belly all the time."
"Well aren't you sweet to offer!" chirps Phara. Think this is her first cup of klah? No, definitely not. "Ummm. Is there bread?" She looks around hopefully for toast, or rolls, or anything carbohydrate-esque. Jiella's approach and subsequent commentary draws her eyebrows up and a snort from deep in her throat. "You know, and here I was actually trying to find a way to not have to spend the winter here. It does keep the itching down." She reaches up absently to scrub her bulging stomach through her purple sweater, like saying it reminded her that she itches.
"Fresh biscuits, and I think they toasted the leftover bread from last night for sandwiches," Atreyan promptly replies, pointing out both items. "I could fetch you either," he states to Phara, a half-smile on his face-- bemused and slightly distracted. At least he's recovering from his battle with the soup pot. Grey eyes lift to focus on the newest arrival; he offers Jiella a nod, and a murmured, "Good morning," in greeting.
After managing to slip in and out of the general breakfast crowd with what is pretty obviously /her/ first cup of klah, Jiella is a little surprised by Phara's answer. "Really? And itching? Why itching?" The idea of even worse side effects of pregnancy seems to be ever so slightly terrifying to the blonde. With a shudder, she drops into a nearby chair, glancing Atreyan's way to flash a wide smile. "Hey, morning. Don't know about 'good' yet, but."
Phara looks towards where he points. "Oh! I'll tell you what, will you get me a sandwich while I get some stew? Wherry, if it's there, anything else if it's not." Well, he /offered/ to get her something. Jiella gets her attention back then as she sips her klah. "My shirt itches." Shrug. Not that terribly scary. Jiella's table seems as good a place as any to be so she puts her klah mug in front of an empty seat to claim it and offers a hand. "Phara, blue Bennath's."
"Wait until they give you breakfast duty," Atreyan drolls back to Jiella, a smile tugging irrascibly at one side of his mouth: a rogue smile, one which would, no doubt, cause his mother to hit him and tell him to behave like a gentleman. "Then... well, you'll see just how bad it can get." Amusement evident with that lopsided grin, he turns his focus back onto the pregnant woman he's supposed to be aiding. "Yes, ma'am," he states to Phara with a respectful dip of his chin, heading off away from the pair to fix the woman a sandwich.
"But - but why does it itch? Does it /always/ do that, or because you're pregnant?" Jiella feels this is a mystery she must clear up, it seems. For Phara's introduction, taking the offered hand. "Jiella. And sorry, I'm just really all about knowing all the drawbacks lately. People seem to leave them out." Atreyan's smile goes over well - it would be tough for it not to, given he's cute and she's about nineteen. "We'll see if I wake up for it," she counters. "I'm not used to having to wake up early. And today! Kids." Another shudder as she begins to drink from her mug.
Phara holds up a finger some time after Jiella's apology with a single word. "Stew." And trots off to get this before picking the conversation up again. "Planning on having a baby any time soon?" she asks teasingly, eyes flicking to the young woman's shoulder. Sinking carefully into her chair with a little mmph she stirs the stew up with her spoon before blowing on it. "Uh, I don't know, I've never worn it when I wasn't pregnant. I suppose it's entirely possibly it would always itch. Then again, it might not even be the shirt. I think most people leave the drawbacks out because by the time you've got your baby, you don't really remember. Between the two of them she says, "Better get used to waking up early. Baby dragons keep their own schedules."
Atreyan returns, triumphant! With a rather large wherry sandwich on a plate, trimmings neatly stacked beside it. "I didn't know what you wanted on it," Trey offers Phara, apologetically, setting the plate down next to her. His gaze shifts from her to Jiella and back, and-- seemingly content to let the women have their conversation-- moves to start clearing the rest of the table of dirty cups and dishes left by early breakfasters. He's intent on his task, but certainly has enough brainpower left over to eavesdrop. (Of course.)
Jiella can wait for stew, apparently. She pretty much has to, but it gives her time to down most of her klah now that it's cooled, hoping that'll help. Perhaps only a touch less sleepy-eyed, she tells Phara, "Not if I can help it, but sometimes it's expected, isn't it? I'd like to have some good arguments against. Congratulations, by the way." Like those two sentences belong together. Quiet as Atreyan drops off he sandwich, glancing his way, though apparently not noticing any eavesdropping, "So I'm going to get to bring people food. That should be just great." In a way that's not.
Phara makes grabby hands for the sandwich, face fit to split. Fooood. "No, not, that's fine, you did great. Thank you!" Atreyan can eavesdrop all he wants, pregnancy is not exactly a state secret. Neither, precisely, is the duties that befall the daughters of a Hold. "Ah, well, I think stretchmarks aren't going to get you out of duties, darlin'. Don't let my mother hear me saying this but the herders rarely care if their broodmares like to breed." With her plate settled next to her bowl, she's free to start eating, yay. A look follows Trey as he's busy-bodying and she says idly. "You /could/ sit. You're entitled a break now and again."
"Yes, ma'am," Trey replies politely to Phara, not looking up from his task. "But I could very easily continue working, since this is a great deal better than hauling tremendously heavy kettles out from the kitchens." He pauses, glances around, drops his voice to a crafty level of quiet: "I think the cooks are lazy when it comes to manual labor."
Jiella is rather pleased about this; "Not if I impress. It's not the stretchmarks, though - not totally, anyway. There's a lot of things that seem pretty-- not-fun. And that's kind of a gross way to put it, Phara - but can't say you're wrong." She gives the other woman a little shrug - such is life - and drains her mug as she slants a look towards Atreyan as the bluerider invites him to join them. "I don't mind if you want to sit," she adds, grinning. "And who isn't? But if you insist on doing some, you could get me a refill." She holds up her empty mug by the handle, on one long finger.
Phara snorts and bats a hand at Atreyan. "Or the cooks are helping you build the muscles you'll need. Trust me, they're not lazy and the Headwoman doesn't assign chores needlessly." Says the girl who used to switch chores all the time during Candidacy, shhh. About to give Jiella her usual self-depricating response she pulls up short and closes her mouth again until she can frame it into something a little kinder. "Despite my mother's best efforts, I don't speak like a lady. My apologies if I offend you." Ooh look, /sandwich/.
"Yes, ma'am," Atreyan fakes meekness well enough when there are potentially angry hormonal ladies around. "I'll remember that-- the cooks are not lazy." A nod, as if to confirm the thought. He smiles, though, at Phara, and accepts Jiella's mug without hesitation. "Straight up, or would you like cream?" he questions with a fractional lift of eyebrows. Then, at Phara's attacking of the sandwich: "Would you like me to bring you another one, ma'am?" Since, you know, he was fixing a sandwich when names were bandied about.
Surprised, "Oh! Oh no, I just mean it's - straightforward. You're /not/ wrong at all." Jiella wrinkles her nose a touch, telling Phara, "I don't always put things in the right way either." Obviously. "I'm not offended at all." In fact, she's pretty pleased, as she's slowly waking up and Atreyan seems to like getting people things. Offering him a brilliant smile, "On it's own. And people keep saying the chores have a purpose, but... I don't know. I never did anything much at home, so it's not like I'm good at any of it."
Technically, Trey and she /have/ been introduced. "Stop ma'aming me," grumbles the bluerider. "Just Phara, really. No ma'ams, or riders or...any of that junk. That goes for both of you." She sweeps Jiella to include that look and takes another rough bite of sandwich, ever of the mecurial moods. "One's enough for now," she responds once her mouth is empty and lets Trey off to go get the blond candidates' refill. "Don't think it's...important to be good at it, you know. I think it's important that you /try/. Mostly it's about discipline, settling into a routine and being devoted to something. And, well, if you build up some muscles and some common sense along the way, you'll only be glad for it in the long run."
Trey returns with Jiella's klah and a smile for the both of them: but before he can say a work, the young man is being berated by a large cook from the kitchen entrance. Something about stew not being refreshed. His smile is more rueful to the two-- "I hope you both have a very nice day," he drawls in his rural Gar accent, nodding his head before heading off with brisk, measured steps back towards the kitchens.
Bemused, Jiella has to ask, "Why not ma'am? Aren't people supposed to call you that?" She's really not getting the whole lack of title thing, but she doesn't really look like she would. For Phara's advice, light brows knit, "Discipline." Like she's never heard of the word. "But, well - say you try and you do all that and it doesn't work out. All that - weeding and everything for nothing? I can't imagine. I really don't like working." In case it's hard to figure out.
Phara eyes Jiella and says, "I'm barely older than you. Shards, I was younger than some of my weyrlings were while I was a weyrlingmaster. If you don't /have/ to ma'am me, I'd rather you didn't. And you don't have to, because I'm just a lowly wingrider now and it's my right to say you don't have to!" There, she can smile about that again. "Well, even if you learn nothing, you've earned your food and bed for the day, haven't you?" She winks and leans back with her klah in her hands, looking thoughtful. "Between you and me, it's all a load of crap when you're a Candidate. A few years in the saddle, so to speak, you start to look back on it and wonder how you got off so easy. You might want to think real hard on what you're trading in for if you're not willing to work though. A dragon is your best friend, your biggest love, for the rest of your lives. They're also twenty to fourty feet long and twenty feet tall, and they like baths." A tiny smirk crosses her face and she looks sort of pleased at painting the acreage that needs to be oiled.
In a quiet tone, more to herself than to the bluerider, "I'd make people do it." From the look of Jiella, that may not be the biggest shock in the world. As far as earning food and bed; "I'd pay for it, but I don't think that would really go over well." At least she's aware of that much! After a drink from her refilled mug, she shades thoughtful slowly as the bluerider goes on, frowning a touch. "That... might be an idea, yes. It's not really something that sounds too bad on the outset. But there's a lot that gets left out, like I was saying." Not bitter about that at all!
B'kaiv appears out of the normal living caverns crowd, coming up behind the bluerider with a mug and a meatroll. He's not looking at her, though, but the blonde. She gets a, "Hey," and a polite once-over - really more of a flick of his eyes from her face to the table and back - followed promptly by an introduction: "Kai. B'kaiv. Chielyth's." Only after does he bother to look at Jiella's companion, and his face promptly falls out into a scowl. Phara does, however, get a greeting, a low, growly, "Bluerider."
Phara blinks at Jiella a few times and her mouth pulls to the side. "You won't want to any more than you'd want a stranger washing /your/ ass for you." Leaning forward on the table they sit at she settles her elbow and thumps her chin down into her hand. "Okay, let's see. You're going to have to butcher meat. A lot of people throw up over this. Dragons go to the bathroom while they're Between.. which they don't learn until, eh, almost 8 or nine months I think. You'll be responsible for taking care of your dragon's droppings unti then." Reaching up, she scrubs her palm across her short hair and says. "Depending on your weyrlingmaster, you'll probably have to chop all of your hair off - It's a danger when the dragons learn to flame. POOF!" She uses her hands to demonstrate her head going up in fire - or maybe exploding? Either way... "On the other side. You will /never/ lack for love, or someone to spend time with, someone who understands you completely. And, you know, you can be anywhere on Pern in the time it takes to cough three times." Which is the biggest perk of all to our wanderlusting bluerider. Her head cranes so she can see over her shoulder and Kai gets a grin himself, one he doesn't deserve at all. "Hello, B'kaiv. Nice to see you out and about again."
Jiella isn't really sure how to take B'kaiv's introduction, light brows arching. Over her mug, still a little sleepy-eyed, "Um. Hi. Kai? Is that what you go by?" She tilts her head, looking at the greenrider before she offers tentatively, "I'm Jiella." It's then that she's hit by the full force of Phara's flood of information, brown eyes beginning to widen at both the drawbacks and the benefits. With a protective touch to her blonde locks, "I like my hair. I guess... Well. I guess there's a lot of time for it to all sink in."
"Yeah," Kai admits to Jiella's question. His, "That's a real pretty name," is subsequently washed away by Phara's flood, and he helps himself to his food and drink while the bluerider infodumps. After, with a (regretful?) nod to the blonde locks, "Ain't got time t' take care of nothing like that," he seconds to hair-care. "You a Candidate, huh? You brung you in? She's," a tip of his head to Phara, "telling you th' worst bits of it." Baldly, like he'd expect no better (or no worse).
Phara smiles kindly at Jiella. "It's worth it...every single bit of work...it's worth it all a thousand times over. I wouldn't let Full Disclosure scare you, as he said. That's the worst, and it's not even for a whole Turn you've got to worry about it." In unusually zen-like fashion, she chooses to ignore Kai's dig, taking only the words and not the way they were meant.
"Thanks." Jiella offers B'kaiv a wide grin that begins to fade at the lack of time for her hair, asking both riders hopefully, "You can't just braid it or something?" Apparently? A serious issue. To Kai's question, with a little grimace, "Y'nolek." And whether it's the worst bits of it, or worth it, the girl seems a bit overwhelmed for a time, before; "All right. I guess... it's good to know at least."
B'kaiv says, "There's days you ain't got time t' wash yourself an' you'd forget t' eat if there weren't nobody telling you t' do it," with a shrug that says, plain as anything, that he thinks fussing over hair is silly. His scowl is momentarily joined by a sneer at the bronzerider's name, and his head shakes regretfully. "It ain't like nothing nobody can tell you. I asked questions plenty, an' I /still/ ain't got no idea what I were in for."
"You did ask," Phara points out. "Wasn't about to lie." Her stew is cold, but she eats more of it anyway. "It'll grow back in no time," she promises Jiella. "It's not like you /have/ to keep it short." Ignore hers, it's always been that length. "And ignore B'kaiv, that's /gross/, I've never forgotten to wash myself." Bennath being slightly less needy than Chielyth, though, that's probably part of why.
Helpfully - and skipping over hair entirely until she figures out a good way to keep it - Jiella tells B'kaiv, "He was a real jerk about the whole thing, too." She doesn't really go into the circumstances, however - just considers both riders, and looks somewhat relieved for Phara's reasssurance about the potential lack of washing - and the it'll-grow-back. No longer holding her hair over her shoulder in both hands protectively, "No, I'd rather no one /lie/. But even when you say it's worth it, it still sounds like - a lot. I don't like work much." SHe might have mentioned; not hard to figure out.
Is B'kaiv surprised that Nolek was a jerk? Hardly, says his snort. "Sorry he was the one t' bring you in, is all. An' yeah, it's work. It's hard work, it's a /lot/ of work, an' it ain't never gonna stop. If you don't wanna do it, all you got t' do is say no. This ain't th' Pass or nothing." His eyes flick to Phara and away, back to Jiella. She is prettier, after all. "You met any dragons, 'sides Agrith yet?"
Phara might be feeling kindly towards B'kaiv, but her patience for Jiella might be wearing a bit. "I could take you home now if you'd rather have babies." In that whole sugary sweet sarcastic tone she gets. To her spoon she mutters, "I swear I'm having a talk with that boy." Presumably, Nolek. But B'kaiv's got an idea there. "Agrith's nice, but he's not as fun as Bennath and Chielyth are." It's a good thing Jiella's pretty, or Kai may have simply fled by now.
"It's okay," Jiella reassures B'kaiv. "I survived - obviously. And I /will/ say no if I /decide/ to say no in the future, but right /now/, I'm still saying yes." With a roll of her eyes, "If you say you want to think about it, people get upset. If you say yes, then doubt it, people get mad. Make up your mind." Sighing at Phara, "I'd really rather /not/. It's just I didn't get filled in." She looks a bit pouty, but manages not to get into a mood - yet. "I've met a few dragons. Not a lot or anything, but a few to go to gathers and such. I really like talons. They have a nice sheen to them." Odd girl, if pretty.
"That's what I done," Kai tells Jiella, which may or not be encouraging. He probably means it to be so. "Ain't nothing wrong with saying no. Or yes. Or you wanna think about it." He glances at Phara again, tries to catch the blonde's eyes, and rolls his own. "Yeah, well, that's 'cause their riders take care of 'em. I dunno if you ever get assigned t' help th' riders or nothing, but when it gets cold most of us wash 'em in th' springs. Good idea t' help, if you wanna."
Give it some time, Phara might break B'kaiv's nose to give him something to roll his eyes about. Not right now though. "Don't let me get to you, sweetheart. I'm just cranky and the baby's kicking me in places I wish it wouldn't kick." She gives up on the rest of her meal along with the conversation and falls silent, picking apart the remnants of her sandwich idly.
Jiella does try to seem encouraged by B'kaiv's words, offering him a somewhat dimmed smile - which might widen a touch at the roll of eyes. "And help wash them. Well. We'll see. It's a lot to wash, so I can see how it might be nice to have help." She doesn't really want to commit to it right now, though. To Phara, sympathetically, "It's not fun, as far as I've been told. And speaking of kids... I'm supposed to be on nursery duty today." Grimacing, rueful, "It might be best to get going that way. I can only plead breakfast for so long."
B'kaiv shrugs again - sure, help wash them - and expands with, "Nice t' have help, sure, but we're used t' it. You ain't. It were real nice t' meet you, Jiella. You got more questions or nothing, you just got t' ask." Since she's fleeing into the sticky, jam-covered hands of the nursery. He gives her a smile, Phara another blank-faced nod, and then he's turned on one heel to head off wherever it was he was going before he got distracted by blonde.
Jiella wanders off as well - after making sure there's nothing that Phara needs. If so, she'll have some random young man do it, with the help of a big smile.
Phara nods to Jiella and sighs. "Sure. I think I'm heading out for the day anyway. It was nice meeting you, Jiella. And as Kai said, feel free to ask any questions." That said, she too is getting up, abandoning the table to emptiness to get along with her business.
Jiella turns up for breakfast late, meets Phara, who fills in some horrifying blanks, and Atreyan, who's serving. B'kaiv comes in to be helpful.
Not afraid of hard work: that would be Trey. The kitchen staff seems to like riding this one hard, so to speak: the candidate is on hearth duty, bringing in the large caldrons of stew and soup, and spits of meat. Currently, he's lugging in a rather large pot of vegetable soup, maneuvering it over to the table where it's supposed to be. Is he sweating? Possibly.
It would seem that Phara is adopting already the sort of wide-gaited walk a pregnant woman gets when she reaches a certain size. It's not a waddle, darn it -- that comes later. Ahem. This not-waddle is taking her directly into Atreyan's path though and once he's got the pot settled she's more than prompt to drive into the fray to get at the food. "Good morning," she says asidedly to the Candidate with more cheerfulness than hard work and early hours deserve.
"Good morning, ma'am," Atreyan replies, looking only slightly red in the face. What? That was heavy! "Can I help you with anything?" This is Atreyan's patented 'help-a-pregnant-lady-aka-take-a-break' face right here. Patented. But he's polite and amiable and he has a smile on his face despite the hard work he's been putting in-- that has to count for /something/.
There's some people who just can't manage to fully wake up in the morning, and Jiella seems to be amongst them. Though she's upright and walking, heavy eyelids make narrow eyes a bit narrower and she has the air of someone who's not quite all there yet. She's looking perfectly presentable, however - that has to count for something too! As she's in dire need of stimulants, the serving tables - and thus, Atreyan and Phara - are in her path. To said pregnant lady, before braving the table for a mug, "Must be glad it's cool out. My mother says in the summer it's like wearing furs on your belly all the time."
"Well aren't you sweet to offer!" chirps Phara. Think this is her first cup of klah? No, definitely not. "Ummm. Is there bread?" She looks around hopefully for toast, or rolls, or anything carbohydrate-esque. Jiella's approach and subsequent commentary draws her eyebrows up and a snort from deep in her throat. "You know, and here I was actually trying to find a way to not have to spend the winter here. It does keep the itching down." She reaches up absently to scrub her bulging stomach through her purple sweater, like saying it reminded her that she itches.
"Fresh biscuits, and I think they toasted the leftover bread from last night for sandwiches," Atreyan promptly replies, pointing out both items. "I could fetch you either," he states to Phara, a half-smile on his face-- bemused and slightly distracted. At least he's recovering from his battle with the soup pot. Grey eyes lift to focus on the newest arrival; he offers Jiella a nod, and a murmured, "Good morning," in greeting.
After managing to slip in and out of the general breakfast crowd with what is pretty obviously /her/ first cup of klah, Jiella is a little surprised by Phara's answer. "Really? And itching? Why itching?" The idea of even worse side effects of pregnancy seems to be ever so slightly terrifying to the blonde. With a shudder, she drops into a nearby chair, glancing Atreyan's way to flash a wide smile. "Hey, morning. Don't know about 'good' yet, but."
Phara looks towards where he points. "Oh! I'll tell you what, will you get me a sandwich while I get some stew? Wherry, if it's there, anything else if it's not." Well, he /offered/ to get her something. Jiella gets her attention back then as she sips her klah. "My shirt itches." Shrug. Not that terribly scary. Jiella's table seems as good a place as any to be so she puts her klah mug in front of an empty seat to claim it and offers a hand. "Phara, blue Bennath's."
"Wait until they give you breakfast duty," Atreyan drolls back to Jiella, a smile tugging irrascibly at one side of his mouth: a rogue smile, one which would, no doubt, cause his mother to hit him and tell him to behave like a gentleman. "Then... well, you'll see just how bad it can get." Amusement evident with that lopsided grin, he turns his focus back onto the pregnant woman he's supposed to be aiding. "Yes, ma'am," he states to Phara with a respectful dip of his chin, heading off away from the pair to fix the woman a sandwich.
"But - but why does it itch? Does it /always/ do that, or because you're pregnant?" Jiella feels this is a mystery she must clear up, it seems. For Phara's introduction, taking the offered hand. "Jiella. And sorry, I'm just really all about knowing all the drawbacks lately. People seem to leave them out." Atreyan's smile goes over well - it would be tough for it not to, given he's cute and she's about nineteen. "We'll see if I wake up for it," she counters. "I'm not used to having to wake up early. And today! Kids." Another shudder as she begins to drink from her mug.
Phara holds up a finger some time after Jiella's apology with a single word. "Stew." And trots off to get this before picking the conversation up again. "Planning on having a baby any time soon?" she asks teasingly, eyes flicking to the young woman's shoulder. Sinking carefully into her chair with a little mmph she stirs the stew up with her spoon before blowing on it. "Uh, I don't know, I've never worn it when I wasn't pregnant. I suppose it's entirely possibly it would always itch. Then again, it might not even be the shirt. I think most people leave the drawbacks out because by the time you've got your baby, you don't really remember. Between the two of them she says, "Better get used to waking up early. Baby dragons keep their own schedules."
Atreyan returns, triumphant! With a rather large wherry sandwich on a plate, trimmings neatly stacked beside it. "I didn't know what you wanted on it," Trey offers Phara, apologetically, setting the plate down next to her. His gaze shifts from her to Jiella and back, and-- seemingly content to let the women have their conversation-- moves to start clearing the rest of the table of dirty cups and dishes left by early breakfasters. He's intent on his task, but certainly has enough brainpower left over to eavesdrop. (Of course.)
Jiella can wait for stew, apparently. She pretty much has to, but it gives her time to down most of her klah now that it's cooled, hoping that'll help. Perhaps only a touch less sleepy-eyed, she tells Phara, "Not if I can help it, but sometimes it's expected, isn't it? I'd like to have some good arguments against. Congratulations, by the way." Like those two sentences belong together. Quiet as Atreyan drops off he sandwich, glancing his way, though apparently not noticing any eavesdropping, "So I'm going to get to bring people food. That should be just great." In a way that's not.
Phara makes grabby hands for the sandwich, face fit to split. Fooood. "No, not, that's fine, you did great. Thank you!" Atreyan can eavesdrop all he wants, pregnancy is not exactly a state secret. Neither, precisely, is the duties that befall the daughters of a Hold. "Ah, well, I think stretchmarks aren't going to get you out of duties, darlin'. Don't let my mother hear me saying this but the herders rarely care if their broodmares like to breed." With her plate settled next to her bowl, she's free to start eating, yay. A look follows Trey as he's busy-bodying and she says idly. "You /could/ sit. You're entitled a break now and again."
"Yes, ma'am," Trey replies politely to Phara, not looking up from his task. "But I could very easily continue working, since this is a great deal better than hauling tremendously heavy kettles out from the kitchens." He pauses, glances around, drops his voice to a crafty level of quiet: "I think the cooks are lazy when it comes to manual labor."
Jiella is rather pleased about this; "Not if I impress. It's not the stretchmarks, though - not totally, anyway. There's a lot of things that seem pretty-- not-fun. And that's kind of a gross way to put it, Phara - but can't say you're wrong." She gives the other woman a little shrug - such is life - and drains her mug as she slants a look towards Atreyan as the bluerider invites him to join them. "I don't mind if you want to sit," she adds, grinning. "And who isn't? But if you insist on doing some, you could get me a refill." She holds up her empty mug by the handle, on one long finger.
Phara snorts and bats a hand at Atreyan. "Or the cooks are helping you build the muscles you'll need. Trust me, they're not lazy and the Headwoman doesn't assign chores needlessly." Says the girl who used to switch chores all the time during Candidacy, shhh. About to give Jiella her usual self-depricating response she pulls up short and closes her mouth again until she can frame it into something a little kinder. "Despite my mother's best efforts, I don't speak like a lady. My apologies if I offend you." Ooh look, /sandwich/.
"Yes, ma'am," Atreyan fakes meekness well enough when there are potentially angry hormonal ladies around. "I'll remember that-- the cooks are not lazy." A nod, as if to confirm the thought. He smiles, though, at Phara, and accepts Jiella's mug without hesitation. "Straight up, or would you like cream?" he questions with a fractional lift of eyebrows. Then, at Phara's attacking of the sandwich: "Would you like me to bring you another one, ma'am?" Since, you know, he was fixing a sandwich when names were bandied about.
Surprised, "Oh! Oh no, I just mean it's - straightforward. You're /not/ wrong at all." Jiella wrinkles her nose a touch, telling Phara, "I don't always put things in the right way either." Obviously. "I'm not offended at all." In fact, she's pretty pleased, as she's slowly waking up and Atreyan seems to like getting people things. Offering him a brilliant smile, "On it's own. And people keep saying the chores have a purpose, but... I don't know. I never did anything much at home, so it's not like I'm good at any of it."
Technically, Trey and she /have/ been introduced. "Stop ma'aming me," grumbles the bluerider. "Just Phara, really. No ma'ams, or riders or...any of that junk. That goes for both of you." She sweeps Jiella to include that look and takes another rough bite of sandwich, ever of the mecurial moods. "One's enough for now," she responds once her mouth is empty and lets Trey off to go get the blond candidates' refill. "Don't think it's...important to be good at it, you know. I think it's important that you /try/. Mostly it's about discipline, settling into a routine and being devoted to something. And, well, if you build up some muscles and some common sense along the way, you'll only be glad for it in the long run."
Trey returns with Jiella's klah and a smile for the both of them: but before he can say a work, the young man is being berated by a large cook from the kitchen entrance. Something about stew not being refreshed. His smile is more rueful to the two-- "I hope you both have a very nice day," he drawls in his rural Gar accent, nodding his head before heading off with brisk, measured steps back towards the kitchens.
Bemused, Jiella has to ask, "Why not ma'am? Aren't people supposed to call you that?" She's really not getting the whole lack of title thing, but she doesn't really look like she would. For Phara's advice, light brows knit, "Discipline." Like she's never heard of the word. "But, well - say you try and you do all that and it doesn't work out. All that - weeding and everything for nothing? I can't imagine. I really don't like working." In case it's hard to figure out.
Phara eyes Jiella and says, "I'm barely older than you. Shards, I was younger than some of my weyrlings were while I was a weyrlingmaster. If you don't /have/ to ma'am me, I'd rather you didn't. And you don't have to, because I'm just a lowly wingrider now and it's my right to say you don't have to!" There, she can smile about that again. "Well, even if you learn nothing, you've earned your food and bed for the day, haven't you?" She winks and leans back with her klah in her hands, looking thoughtful. "Between you and me, it's all a load of crap when you're a Candidate. A few years in the saddle, so to speak, you start to look back on it and wonder how you got off so easy. You might want to think real hard on what you're trading in for if you're not willing to work though. A dragon is your best friend, your biggest love, for the rest of your lives. They're also twenty to fourty feet long and twenty feet tall, and they like baths." A tiny smirk crosses her face and she looks sort of pleased at painting the acreage that needs to be oiled.
In a quiet tone, more to herself than to the bluerider, "I'd make people do it." From the look of Jiella, that may not be the biggest shock in the world. As far as earning food and bed; "I'd pay for it, but I don't think that would really go over well." At least she's aware of that much! After a drink from her refilled mug, she shades thoughtful slowly as the bluerider goes on, frowning a touch. "That... might be an idea, yes. It's not really something that sounds too bad on the outset. But there's a lot that gets left out, like I was saying." Not bitter about that at all!
B'kaiv appears out of the normal living caverns crowd, coming up behind the bluerider with a mug and a meatroll. He's not looking at her, though, but the blonde. She gets a, "Hey," and a polite once-over - really more of a flick of his eyes from her face to the table and back - followed promptly by an introduction: "Kai. B'kaiv. Chielyth's." Only after does he bother to look at Jiella's companion, and his face promptly falls out into a scowl. Phara does, however, get a greeting, a low, growly, "Bluerider."
Phara blinks at Jiella a few times and her mouth pulls to the side. "You won't want to any more than you'd want a stranger washing /your/ ass for you." Leaning forward on the table they sit at she settles her elbow and thumps her chin down into her hand. "Okay, let's see. You're going to have to butcher meat. A lot of people throw up over this. Dragons go to the bathroom while they're Between.. which they don't learn until, eh, almost 8 or nine months I think. You'll be responsible for taking care of your dragon's droppings unti then." Reaching up, she scrubs her palm across her short hair and says. "Depending on your weyrlingmaster, you'll probably have to chop all of your hair off - It's a danger when the dragons learn to flame. POOF!" She uses her hands to demonstrate her head going up in fire - or maybe exploding? Either way... "On the other side. You will /never/ lack for love, or someone to spend time with, someone who understands you completely. And, you know, you can be anywhere on Pern in the time it takes to cough three times." Which is the biggest perk of all to our wanderlusting bluerider. Her head cranes so she can see over her shoulder and Kai gets a grin himself, one he doesn't deserve at all. "Hello, B'kaiv. Nice to see you out and about again."
Jiella isn't really sure how to take B'kaiv's introduction, light brows arching. Over her mug, still a little sleepy-eyed, "Um. Hi. Kai? Is that what you go by?" She tilts her head, looking at the greenrider before she offers tentatively, "I'm Jiella." It's then that she's hit by the full force of Phara's flood of information, brown eyes beginning to widen at both the drawbacks and the benefits. With a protective touch to her blonde locks, "I like my hair. I guess... Well. I guess there's a lot of time for it to all sink in."
"Yeah," Kai admits to Jiella's question. His, "That's a real pretty name," is subsequently washed away by Phara's flood, and he helps himself to his food and drink while the bluerider infodumps. After, with a (regretful?) nod to the blonde locks, "Ain't got time t' take care of nothing like that," he seconds to hair-care. "You a Candidate, huh? You brung you in? She's," a tip of his head to Phara, "telling you th' worst bits of it." Baldly, like he'd expect no better (or no worse).
Phara smiles kindly at Jiella. "It's worth it...every single bit of work...it's worth it all a thousand times over. I wouldn't let Full Disclosure scare you, as he said. That's the worst, and it's not even for a whole Turn you've got to worry about it." In unusually zen-like fashion, she chooses to ignore Kai's dig, taking only the words and not the way they were meant.
"Thanks." Jiella offers B'kaiv a wide grin that begins to fade at the lack of time for her hair, asking both riders hopefully, "You can't just braid it or something?" Apparently? A serious issue. To Kai's question, with a little grimace, "Y'nolek." And whether it's the worst bits of it, or worth it, the girl seems a bit overwhelmed for a time, before; "All right. I guess... it's good to know at least."
B'kaiv says, "There's days you ain't got time t' wash yourself an' you'd forget t' eat if there weren't nobody telling you t' do it," with a shrug that says, plain as anything, that he thinks fussing over hair is silly. His scowl is momentarily joined by a sneer at the bronzerider's name, and his head shakes regretfully. "It ain't like nothing nobody can tell you. I asked questions plenty, an' I /still/ ain't got no idea what I were in for."
"You did ask," Phara points out. "Wasn't about to lie." Her stew is cold, but she eats more of it anyway. "It'll grow back in no time," she promises Jiella. "It's not like you /have/ to keep it short." Ignore hers, it's always been that length. "And ignore B'kaiv, that's /gross/, I've never forgotten to wash myself." Bennath being slightly less needy than Chielyth, though, that's probably part of why.
Helpfully - and skipping over hair entirely until she figures out a good way to keep it - Jiella tells B'kaiv, "He was a real jerk about the whole thing, too." She doesn't really go into the circumstances, however - just considers both riders, and looks somewhat relieved for Phara's reasssurance about the potential lack of washing - and the it'll-grow-back. No longer holding her hair over her shoulder in both hands protectively, "No, I'd rather no one /lie/. But even when you say it's worth it, it still sounds like - a lot. I don't like work much." SHe might have mentioned; not hard to figure out.
Is B'kaiv surprised that Nolek was a jerk? Hardly, says his snort. "Sorry he was the one t' bring you in, is all. An' yeah, it's work. It's hard work, it's a /lot/ of work, an' it ain't never gonna stop. If you don't wanna do it, all you got t' do is say no. This ain't th' Pass or nothing." His eyes flick to Phara and away, back to Jiella. She is prettier, after all. "You met any dragons, 'sides Agrith yet?"
Phara might be feeling kindly towards B'kaiv, but her patience for Jiella might be wearing a bit. "I could take you home now if you'd rather have babies." In that whole sugary sweet sarcastic tone she gets. To her spoon she mutters, "I swear I'm having a talk with that boy." Presumably, Nolek. But B'kaiv's got an idea there. "Agrith's nice, but he's not as fun as Bennath and Chielyth are." It's a good thing Jiella's pretty, or Kai may have simply fled by now.
"It's okay," Jiella reassures B'kaiv. "I survived - obviously. And I /will/ say no if I /decide/ to say no in the future, but right /now/, I'm still saying yes." With a roll of her eyes, "If you say you want to think about it, people get upset. If you say yes, then doubt it, people get mad. Make up your mind." Sighing at Phara, "I'd really rather /not/. It's just I didn't get filled in." She looks a bit pouty, but manages not to get into a mood - yet. "I've met a few dragons. Not a lot or anything, but a few to go to gathers and such. I really like talons. They have a nice sheen to them." Odd girl, if pretty.
"That's what I done," Kai tells Jiella, which may or not be encouraging. He probably means it to be so. "Ain't nothing wrong with saying no. Or yes. Or you wanna think about it." He glances at Phara again, tries to catch the blonde's eyes, and rolls his own. "Yeah, well, that's 'cause their riders take care of 'em. I dunno if you ever get assigned t' help th' riders or nothing, but when it gets cold most of us wash 'em in th' springs. Good idea t' help, if you wanna."
Give it some time, Phara might break B'kaiv's nose to give him something to roll his eyes about. Not right now though. "Don't let me get to you, sweetheart. I'm just cranky and the baby's kicking me in places I wish it wouldn't kick." She gives up on the rest of her meal along with the conversation and falls silent, picking apart the remnants of her sandwich idly.
Jiella does try to seem encouraged by B'kaiv's words, offering him a somewhat dimmed smile - which might widen a touch at the roll of eyes. "And help wash them. Well. We'll see. It's a lot to wash, so I can see how it might be nice to have help." She doesn't really want to commit to it right now, though. To Phara, sympathetically, "It's not fun, as far as I've been told. And speaking of kids... I'm supposed to be on nursery duty today." Grimacing, rueful, "It might be best to get going that way. I can only plead breakfast for so long."
B'kaiv shrugs again - sure, help wash them - and expands with, "Nice t' have help, sure, but we're used t' it. You ain't. It were real nice t' meet you, Jiella. You got more questions or nothing, you just got t' ask." Since she's fleeing into the sticky, jam-covered hands of the nursery. He gives her a smile, Phara another blank-faced nod, and then he's turned on one heel to head off wherever it was he was going before he got distracted by blonde.
Jiella wanders off as well - after making sure there's nothing that Phara needs. If so, she'll have some random young man do it, with the help of a big smile.
Phara nods to Jiella and sighs. "Sure. I think I'm heading out for the day anyway. It was nice meeting you, Jiella. And as Kai said, feel free to ask any questions." That said, she too is getting up, abandoning the table to emptiness to get along with her business.