Log: Differences
Who: Madilla, Milani
When: Day 25, Month 5, Turn 21
Where: Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr
What: Madilla and Milani have a lengthy conversation that covers many topics, and briefly delves into irreconcilable differences between hold and weyr life, before returning to the perennial and much-enjoyed topic of babies.
Totally stolen from Madilla.
Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr
The Snowasis is rarely quiet, and even then, the high-ceilinged former weyr is kept from echoing by the fantastical booths tucked into its convoluted perimeter. The secluded seating spaces have been shaped from the truncated stalagmites that escaped the smoothing of the main floor, and are both softened and separated by colorful hangings that are thick and opaque enough to make each corner its own private nook.
Some of the smaller stalactites still roam the ceiling, their jagged teeth tracing a bumpy, inverted spine to the hearth. There, a thick rug with a low klah table and comfortable armchairs and couches sit, their upholstery and cushions changed sporadically to match the season: bright, light colors in the summer, fresh greens and yellows in the spring, warm autumnals in fall, and clear, rich hues for winter. Small tables litter the rest of the cavern, enough to fit up to four people each, while stools stand along the smooth wooden bar behind which is the passthrough window to the kitchen. Glass-paneled cabinetry behind the bar provides a clear view of the available liquors, the many colors reflecting the soft light of glows tucked into strategic niches around the cavern.
Spring may be supposedly heading determinately on towards summer, but that doesn't mean it can't throw up the occasional surprise: like today's very late season snow flurry. Not that it's sticking on the ground anywhere, but still, grumbling amongst those in the Snowasis is highly audible: can't the warmth just stay for a while now, really, please? Amidst the busy late afternoon crowd is Madilla, not a usual occupant of this part of the weyr, but, for the afternoon, taking up one of the big armchairs by the hearth, with a mug of something sitting on the table in front of her, and a book tucked away in her lap. For the moment, though, she seems to be staring off into space more than actually reading.
The headwoman has started waddling a bit with just 13-ish weeks to go until that baby makes an appearance. Milani's had to forgo her usual uniform and has taken to wearing loose tunic-tops over a skirt, more flowing lines than the usually neat silhouette she adopts while on duty. A puff of breath announces the need to pause, lean against the bar for a moment. "Hey, got one of those fruity-shake things?" she asks the barkeep on duty with a friendly smile that's acknowledged with a lift of chin and the busy-making of said drink, while blue-green eyes roam the bustling crowd and ultimately settle on Madilla. "I'll be right over there," Milani tells the bartender and pushes away from the bar with that ungainly gait to go flop down in the next chair over from the healer. "Hey Madilla," she greets the apprentice cheerily nonetheless.
Madilla can't be too wrapped up in her own thoughts, because the sound of the Headwoman's voice has her head turning in an easy, relaxed motion, a smile instantly pressing itself into place upon her face. "Milani," she greets, with audible warmth, as she leans forward to reclaim her drink from the table, nursing it between both hands. "How are you doing?" She's almost certainly missed the ungainliness, given where her attention was during Milani's approach, but there's something knowing in her gaze anyway that has her adding, "Aside from feeling a little unbalanced, maybe?"
Leaning back in that chair, Milani still kicks her shoes off and manages to fold her legs up beneather herself tailor-style though rather than like a VTOL. "Oh I'm good," the headwoman claims cheerfully. "Just get achy back if I do too much sitting or standing now," she says ruefully. "I guess this is the part that a lot of women complain about. But I've been doing stretches with my mother. She's got all sorts of useful advice, so it's not going that badly, really. I don't mind too much. And I'm not sleepy like I was for a bit there, so it's all good! Though I do need to lie down for a little while most afternoons." Breath. Beat. "How're you? And do you want to feel him or her kick? Baby's awake and pretty energetic right now," she continues blithely.
The tumbling mass of words makes Madilla's smile widen, amused, but also unmistakably interested. "Your mother's had a few, hasn't she? So she'd know. Good." But that's remarked on more or less as an aside, the healer concentrating rather more eagerly on, "Really? I-- would like to." Her words are a little shy, as she admits, "I always like that. Feeling… it's like a really, really distinctive 'there's a baby in there, really!' flag, I guess?" She slides forwards, setting her mug back down, and then her book, though she doesn't actually reach to touch Milani just yet, instead adding, "I'm well. Only a few sevens before I head to the Hall." For nine-odd weeks, as she's no doubt mentioned to Milani before.
"Four of us," Milani supplies with a bob or two of her head. "And ... several lost in between," she adds with a little wrinkling of nose and forehead. One of the servers sets down the headwoman's smoothie and she beams up at the young woman, passes her a tip then reaches over for Madilla's hand. "Right here. Feel it? Heck, can you /see/ it?" she adds laughingly. "Good. And shells, are you looking forward to going? It's a while to be gone. Exciting, yeah?"
There's a little, but obvious, wince from Madilla in response to mention of those babies lost in between; despite this, she can't seem to keep that smile away, because as Milani takes her hand, it's back in place. Her, "Oh!" is one of genuine pleasure as she feels the kick beneath her outspread palm. "Active. Like his or her mama, I suppose." There's a hesitant pause before she adds, in response to the question, "I suppose? It's a little… nerve-wracking. I'm excited about everything I'm going to learn, but it's… I'm nervous, I suppose." Her expression is wry. "I'm going to miss here - and everyone - an awful lot."
"Some," Milani agrees about active, skipping over any further mentions of her mother's miscarriages. "Usually a long awake time in the afternoon and then a little in the middle of the night and a bit first thing in the morning." She pauses, thoughtful. "Do you think it'll stay that way after this kid is born?" Her hand covers Madilla's more fully, giving it a sympathetic squeeze. "There's some nice people down there though, right? I know a weaver from the Weyr and some of Paddy's friends from when he lived there."
"Maybe... it's always hard to tell. I know Delvana's awake times changed completely, from what Delifa said, but she was a pretty bad sleeper for a while. I hope he or she isn't disrupting your sleep too much, though? Plenty of time for that later." Rueful, again, but with a smile. She keeps that smile in place as she adds, slowly, "I'm sure there are. It's been nearly four turns since I lived at the Hall, and I'm... different now, I think. I didn't speak to very many people, back then, just a few of the apprentices, and most of them are off posted now, and not coming this summer." She shakes her head, then, and laughs: "I'm sure I'll be fine. Just have to get used to it."
"Guess I'll just find out then," MIlani says with another little laugh and smiles back at Madilla, gives her hand another little squeeze, then starts to move the healer's palm along to a slightly different spot where the baby's hind end is bumping up and re-shaping the headwoman's stomach. "Things change," she adds, agreeing lifts her free hand to tuck back a strand of her hair. "I'm sure you will be too. I might be able to come visit for a bit, but not for too much longer." Apologetic.
Madilla's little 'oh!' is mixed in with a laugh, breaking her well and truly free from her apprehension, and back into genuine smiles. Despite herself, she leans in, whispering, "Hello little one." It turns her cheeks pink, and as she glances back up, her gaze is apologetic; hurriedly, she says, "No, of course you can't, not for much longer. No-- I'll be fine. B'tal said he-- but that was before. So I don't know, now. Either way. Nine weeks isn't /so/ long, and I'm sure I will meet new people, make some friends. I might not even want to come back, in the end!" But not really, says her tone.
There's only a smile, renewed from Milani as Madilla leans in to talk to the baby. "I can send Paddy over to visit, you've met him before right, now and then in passing at least when he's visited? He's nice and I'll bet he'd bring the kids. My niece, Dharia, she's five months old now, will be just a half turn old around when you go," the headwoman explains, "and the other kids are older, Palia's 7, Jaivery's almost 5 and Dylan's 2 and a half." She leans forward a little, reaches for her glass and lifts it, sipping slowly. "Oh that just hits the spot. Refreshing and filling all at once. And you're right - make new friends, meet new people, maybe get a little fresh perspective. That ought to be nice."
Madilla finally, and possibly with some reluctance, pulls her hand away from Milani's belly, and back to her own lap. "Oh, would you?" she says, of Paddy and the kids. "I'd like that. So many children! Your family seems... prolific. For weyr-folk, anyway. Is it really pathetic of me to hope for lots of visitors so I can prove how popular and successful I am?" Her cheeks are pink again; she's only half joking. "Right," she continues, a little more seriously, as she reaches for her own drink - though in the end, she only sniffs at it before setting it down again: cold, presumably. "I hope so. It'd... probably be good for me. There's every chance I'll get posted away from the weyr when I walk the tables, after all. This'll be a good chance to get used to that. And when I get back... you'll very nearly be a mother, I should think. Unless you beat me to it, of course."
"Sure! I'll write him a letter," Milani says over the rim of her glass and takes a few more sips. "He'd probably have more if things had gone differently for him. Well maybe, anyway. And I guess we are at that. I mean, I'm the youngest and here I am having my first and everyone else has at least one. Paddy's the real fertile turtle in the bunch though, with four and all by different women," Millie relates without any signs of embarrassment and no pause. "Pathetic? No. Just shows you're aware of that kind of political -- whatever," the headwoman says with a shrug and sets her glass down, licks a bit of smoothie out of the corner of her mouth and rearranges her position a bit so she's leaning more against the chair's arm. "That's true ... posting out. Shells ... I'll miss you if that happens. And it's not too long until you can walk the tables, is it?" A laugh follows as Milani looks down at her tummy again. "They said no later than the middle of the ninth month at my last exam, based on the measurements."
It says a great deal about how far Madilla's come in the past few turns that it doesn't send her cheeks pink, either, at this mention of Paddy and his four children all by different mothers. "I think it's nice," she says. "That all your children will have cousins all over the place, and lots of them." She seems pleased that the Headwoman doesn't think her comment pathetic, though the smile freezes, and then fades slightly as she admits, "I'd miss you, too. And… just here, in general. I turn nineteen in month eight, so a turn after that, and then it could be any time. but still: a turn is a long time, really." By her expression? Both far too long, and far too short, probably. "Middle of month nine. I /should/ be back by the start of month nine. Not that it matters… I know the midwives will have it all under control. But I'd like to be at the weyr, and not the hall, anyway."
"I like having a big family," Milani agrees. "My sister's having another baby too, but she's only just found out. But there'll be a cousin for this one," her hand pats at her tummy, "close in age, closer than Dharia even. And I bet my brother Remi and his weyrmate will have at least one more. Jenivrys is very family-oriented." She takes a breath, lets it ou, nods. "Well no sense in crying over milk that's not spilled yet. Hopefully if you do get posted out, it won't be /too/ far away," Millie says sincerely then reaches forward, aiming to capture Madilla's hand again. "I'd like it if you're there, even if you're not on duty ... if you'd like, Madilla."
A brief dark shadow crosses over Madilla's face as Milani talks about all those babies, and all those family members, but it doesn't linger. Firmly, and with warmth, she says, "I think that's lovely. Good. And there'll be more in your future, you think?" She nods her agreement to what gets said next equally firmly - "Right. Can't--" but breaks off before she gets finished as Milani takes her hand. She flushes, looking pleased, though she hesitates over her answer, "You-- would? Really? Because I /would/ like to, but I wouldn't want to… intrude."
"Yes, I really would like you to be there and I don't think it's intruding at all," Milani says stoutly, hand squeezing Madilla's before she leans back again and runs both palms over the curve of her abdomen. "As for more family, yes. I think maybe one or two more after this one. And at least one with K'del. For sure. He was -- pretty disappointed I think that this one /isn't/ his." Her grin takes on a slightly wry quality as she says that, eyes the shifting of the baby thoughtfully, gaze downturned.
"Then I'll do my very best to make sure I'm back in time," promises Madilla. "And available to be there." This obviously pleases her a great deal, her hands crossing in front of her, resting calmly upon her lap. Mention of K'del, though, makes her expression go slightly peculiar. Not that what she says next gives away the reason why, it being a fairly innocuous, "I'm sure he'd like that." Beat. "I suppose I can… empathise with him. But if all goes well, he'll get his turn, and so will I." Smile.
"Oh good. After everything ... well it's just that you're such a good friend as well as a good healer, Madilla," Milani says earnestly. "I'd feel more comfortable with you there." A little pause follows and then more softly: "Just in case." Another movement distends her abdomen and her fingers trace along its path. "In fact, if anything really bad /does/ happen, I'd -- well I know you're an apprentice and you could get posted, you might not be able to stay and of course K'ndro has family and he'd like to foster this child to his family for a little while at some point when he or she is older. But --" she takes a breath, looks up at Madilla, earnest again, "-- but I'd like it if you'd consider being part of the baby's foster-family."
Surprise alters the expression on Madilla's face, and leaves her completely without words. It takes a long time - her mouth held partly open - before she manages to come up with something appropriate to say, though despite the pause, there's no question that she's utterly overwhelmed, and in a good way, with the prospect. "Of course," is what she says, finally, more breathing the words than saying them. "If you-- I mean: yes, yes, of course I would. I'd be honoured. I'd-- do everything I possibly could. If something did go wrong. Ever."
The smile that breaks across Milani's face next is a wide beaming one. "Thank you, Madilla," she says softly. "That would mean a lot to me. Not that I don't think my family and K'ndro's wouldn't take good care of my baby, but I think kids need a mother and I think you'd be a really wonderful one."
"I'd be the best one I possibly could be," promises Madilla, again, matching Milani's smile without hesitation. "Though I hope it never comes to that. It shouldn't. Though I understand the desire to… be prepared." She hugs her arms around her middle, without really seeming to notice she's doing it, and then adds, changing the subject, "Are you feeling… ready? Prepared? Getting there, at least?"
"I know you would," Milani says confidently and lets her hands rest lightly atop that bump. "I hope not either. But --" she shrugs lightly, smiles a little. "Yes. It's good to be ready for anything. As for being ready to take care of a baby, shells, I don't know. Sometimes, I'm fine about it, other days I think I'm crazy."
Madilla gives only a slow, firm nod in response to that first, less pleasant topic, turning the most of her attention to the second. "From everything I've seen," she says, with a twitch of a smile, "that's completely normal. It's a-- big adjustment. At least you'll have a weyr's worth of nannies to help out, and I'm /sure/ your mother will be full of useful advice."
"I know I will. And Mum's pretty determined that there will be as little time spent in nursery as possible. I think that's something she regrets from when Paddy was little," Milani says thoughtfully. "So, it's not so much about not having help, it's ... me." She taps her chest. "What kind of mother will I be? And can I even do half as good a job as my own mother did."
Madilla hesitates before she answers that, but when she does, her voice is sure. "I know hearing it from me won't change anything-- I imagine nothing will, until you've got him or her in your arms-- but… You'll be the best mother you /can/ be, Milani, and that's all you can hope for. Just do your best. But I? I think you'll be a wonderful mother, and I'm really looking forward to watching your child grow up."
Milani colors a little under that complimentary statement and looks up at Madilla with gratitude though there's some uncertainty in her eyes still. "I'll try, that's for sure," she says and then laughs, reaches for her drink and takes a big drink. "You know, when the weather gets better, we should have a picnic," the headwoman changes the subject abruptly but with good cheer.
The flush makes the corners of Madilla's mouth twitch slightly, though more with warmth than actual amusement. She's probably aware of the remaining uncertainty, too, but apparently lacking anything more to say, she says, only, "A picnic? Oh-- what a lovely idea. As long as the weather remembers that it's actually /spring/ and nearly /summer/ soon." Though even that is said cheerfully. "Leova and I had a picnic for my turnday, last turn, and it was-- just lovely."
"Exactly," Milani says with big eyes. "Seasons, behave!" she waves a finger like she can make it so and then beams. "Oh yes, it's always great going on picnics with Leova. She's a really good friend."
Teasingly; "You're practicing your disciplinarian side already! If /I/ were the weather, I'd probably listen." Madilla bobs her head firmly on mention of Leova, agreeing without reservation. "She is. I'm glad I was finally able to come up with something for /her/ turnday, last turn, when she always does something for mine." Beat. "I met her when I was still back at the Hall, before I had any idea where I was going to end up. It helped, I think, when I moved, that I knew I'd at least /talked/ to someone who lived here, other than Delifa."
Milani bursts out into almost girlish sounding giggles. "Mm, well you know, I do have to wrangle staff all the time," she notes with a wink and listens to Madilla's tale about Leova. "Oh really? That must have been nice, to have a familiar face like that. And -- she's just one of those people that I know I can count on. You know?"
"You'll have to teach me," declares Madilla, laughing. "Because one day, I may have to wrangle apprentices, and… I think I find it easier when we're all on the same level? Which isn't very useful when you're supposed to be training them." Her smile is a little crooked as she agrees of Milani's last; "I do. Absolutely. We all need to know people like that, I think."
"Ohhh well, you know, it's mostly just a question of projecting confidence and knowing what you're doing," is Milani's take on things. "That and honestly taking it from the perspective of getting the job done. Because I don't think anyone likes it when you put them off or do things for some kind of political reason." Her head tilts to the side, expression thoughtful and then she re-focuses, nods about Leova. "Definitely. She's good people, Leova."
"Politics." Madilla makes a face as she repeats this, though her nod is firm. "I suppose that makes sense. I guess it's something that gets easier over time?" Beat. "I used to be terrified of being a Journeyman. Of being the one to make decisions, rather than just follow orders. It's-- strange. I'm not sure when that changed. I imagine it'll still be difficult, though, making that adjustment."
"Sure, you grow into it and it's a skill that you can practice just like anything else," Milani says candidly. "I mean, I used to just blurt whatever came into my head," she explains as an example. "I got a lot better about that. And I think it can still be sobering sometimes to realize that it's /your/ decisions making things go forward. But at the same time, it's freeing to just be able to act as you think is best too."
"I get that, absolutely," says Madilla, with a wry smile. "Knowing that my decisions as a healer could be the difference between life and death. That… as an apprentice, allowed to take cases on my own for the first time?" She shivers, her head shaking. "But you get used to it, I suppose. And… you're right, it is freeing. Taking ownership over things, I suppose? And trusting your instincts and your skills to… do things right."
"I think it might actually be harder for a healer," Milani says candidly. "After all, most of the decisions I have to make are /not/ life and death," the headwoman points out. "Though keeping the Weyr properly supplied, well, it's important."
After a moment of thoughtful consideration, Madilla says, "But that could-- well. If the weyr were without sufficient supplies, it could lead to all kinds of problems. People here..." She pauses. "In holds, at least the small ones, everything has to be managed personally. But people in weyrs aren't used to that, so if the right decisions weren't made, I suspect things could fall apart quite easily." She adds, then, softly, "But... Coming to the conclusion that we couldn't save Weyrwoman Satiet? That kind of decision... it could easily haunt a person, I think. For example." Beat. "You sort of have to let your decisions go in the end, though, don't you? Because they're made, and you can't change them."
"Yes, they can," Milani says with a little nod. "When the tithes didn't come from Crom ..." she makes a motion with her hand, blows out a breath. "It was bad, could have been worse." Mention of Satiet drops Milani's chin for a moment, but she just listens. "Right. You do because you can only make the best ones you can at the time you make them."
"Yes," says Madilla, letting go of a low breath of her own. "I remember what you said about that, a few months ago… listening to all the rumours of what's been going on more recently. It's sobering." She lets go the mention of Satiet, her expression all but suggesting she feels guilty for even mentioning it; hurriedly, she concludes, "Right. And all of that? Well… I think I'd rather be a healer than someone in charge of a weyr in any way, I think. I don't have to deal with treachery. It all comes down to my skills and knowledge; and sometimes, people can't be saved, and it's important to recognise that, too."
"It's hard to know what to say about that," Milani says soberly and pushes her hand through her hair. "It's -- well I guess the best way to sum it up is that old adage: "Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me," the headwoman concludes ruefully. "And you're right, there's probably not all that much in the way of politics for you at the end of the day, though they're everywhere. But the amount ... it's different."
Madilla's nod is a careful one. "I can't imagine anyone will let it happen a third time, at least." Beat. "You'd think. I can sort of understand… I mean, it did seem like a good idea, to me. But as I said: politics aren't really my thing, so what do I know, really." She tilts her head backwards, considering the ceiling for a moment, before her attention returns to the Headwoman. "Very different. I know it does happen, that things get political. But… at the end of the day, all I can do is ignore it and focus on doing my /job/." She pauses for a moment, and then laughs. "What dreary topics we stumble on, sometimes."
"No, I don't think so," Milani agrees with a shake of her head. "And it's not that the idea itself is bad, just ... Lord Crom," the headwoman concludes. "And it's a good thing maybe, about healing that it goes that way. Because at the end of the day, you have to make people better, or try to and that trumps other things." Laughing, she leans back in her chair again. "Well, I think they're interesting conversations. But if you'd rather ditch politics ... we could talk about baby clothes and stuff."
Madilla makes a face, once more, at further mention of Lord Crom. "It would be a strange thing," she remarks, suddenly. "To be posted somewhere else and have to… change loyalties, as it were. It only just occurred to me. I suppose the Hall takes that into account, though… To some degree." Beat. "Oh, it's not that they're /not/ interesting conversations. Just… when I was a child, women didn't really talk about this kind of thing. Men's business. It's still a little strange, to me, I suppose. It's important, though, I think, to be… aware of what's going on. Because it is sort of everyone's business."
"I can't really imagine," Milani says honestly. "I -- well I'm Reaches through and through. I can't see myself ever going anywhere else to live, not long term." What Madilla says next though makes Milani blink a few times. "Men's ... business?" she looks thoroughly puzzled. "Why ... would it only be men's business?" Curious head-tilt.
Madilla's smile is fond as she nods in response to Milani's words. "Whereas-- well, I call the Reaches home, and I don't want to leave, but: I go where my craft sends me. And if the Reaches earned my loyalty in a couple of turns, I imagine somewhere else could, too." The reaction to her latter words draw a more rueful expression; she takes a pause, and a deep breath, before she actually answers. "Because that's the way it is. Women look after the household, men make sure they're provided for, all the decisions made, all the rest of it. Women aren't supposed to worry about things outside the immediate household." Despite the fact that she has so obviously moved beyond this kind of ruling, Madilla doesn't seem uncomfortable with it.
"Right and you'd really need to do that, if the craft sends you to a place. I mean, I don't think i t'd work out too well if a crafter didn't have some kind of loyalty .. .but having to change it all the time ..." Milani trails off, looking thoughtful. "I wonder what my brother and sister think about that. How it's been for them. I never really thought about it before." Madilla's description of hold life where she's from draws an ill-masked reaction from Milani. The corners of her mouth turn down and she looks away hastily. "I'm -- I'm sorry, Madilla. That just sounds ... well it sounds completely crazy," the headwoman admits. "It makes no sense. I mean, what if a girl is no good at looking after the household and a boy is?"
"I imagine if you move around a lot, you form fewer attachments to a place… but if you were a few turns, everywhere? I don't know. Maybe you just get used to it." Madilla frowns as she says this, then shrugs, though she stiffens a small amount at Milani's reaction to her description of hold life. "How would you know? Boys do men's work, girls do women's. You pull your weight, or you can't stay… there's nothing to spare, at least where I come, for people who don't. I don't think it's crazy. I don't… it was easier, sometimes. Even when I was with W'chek: knowing that he was there to guide me, and… tell me what was right. Even though sometimes it felt strange, too, and I might have had difficulty if he'd instructed me to do something like leave my craft. It's just… the way it is. They don't know any different, and when they do, most of them think the weyr way is… as crazy as you think their way is."
There's a long silence from Milani at the end of that and she swallows hard. "Instructed you ... to leave your craft ..." utter disbelief paints her face. "As if he'd have any right. As if any person has any right to make those kinds of decisions and force another person to do what they think, like that." And the headwoman looks very deeply disturbed. "I'm sorry. It's just also ... what makes something men's work or women's work? There's no such thing, just what each person is or isn't good at."
Madilla's expression is calm. "My uncle made the decision to send me to the craft in the first place," she notes, voice very even. "I was never asked what I wanted… nor would I have been given a choice who to marry: I was engaged to a neighbouring holder's son when I was still very small. It's the way it is, Milani. And when that's the way you grow up? Why would you question it? It never occurred to me - ever - to dispute a decision. They knew better than I did. Women…" She shakes her head. "There is such a thing in the holds. I know it seems very strange to you, but… it never did to me. It still doesn't, to some extent, even if I've adjusted to the way things are here."
"There are people who do," Milani says, head thunking back in her chair. "People who wind up here, leaving that behind because they can't take it anymore." She sighs softly and closes her eyes, lifts a hand to rub at her forehead between her eyes. "I don't think it's that way in every hold though, either. Some are like that, some aren't. Depends on the hold. On the holders. I hear that kind of thing too from people who come here. It's just ... I'm sorry, the idea of just doing something because someone told me to, because that person was a /guy/, not because he actually really knew better or ranked me in any way, it just ... it makes my skin crawl."
"I suppose so," allows Madilla. "But not most. I was… happy. Very happy. I never knew anyone who wanted to leave, but granted, I didn't know many people outside my own family. And of course, I'm sure there are many holds where things are different; I can only speak from my own experiences." She manages a smile, eventually, more than a little rueful, but a genuine smile nonetheless. "It must seem /very/ different. I remember how I felt when I left home… there was a /female/ Craftmaster. And the men deferred to her! It may - as you say - make your skin crawl, but it works for others. So. Just be glad you were born where you were?"
"I know," Milani says with a quiet sigh. "It's hard to accept that though. That people can give themselves up like that. It just screams out as being wrong on so many levels. The most basic ones," the headwoman admits. "And I am glad, every day, that I'm here, that I have the family I have, that I have the friends I have," Milani says staunchly. "It's part of why -- well you know, I'd do just about anything for my home. To keep the Reaches alive and well and /thriving/."
Quietly; "They don't see it as giving themselves up." But Madilla leaves it be after that, content to settle back in her chair with that rueful smile, and nod. "I can understand that. I think… being grateful for things is one of the biggest motivations there is, in the end. Because you like something as it is, and will do everything you can to look after it." Even more quietly than before, she adds, "I don't regret what's happened in my life. Any of it. Ending up where I have, when it was never something I could even comprehend, once. I just wish it hadn't meant giving up my family."
"Maybe not, but that's what it is, that's the truth of it," Milani says, turning her head to look at Madilla with a complicated expression on her face. "It's ... almost like a kind of slavery. Almost. And just ..." one hand gestures futilely. "It's just really hard for someone like me to understand," she admits and then blows out a breath. "Oh Madilla ... but you visit, or you can, can't you?" she sits forward then, both hands extended. "Or -- well, doesn't it feel like you have another family here? A Weyr-family?"
Madilla's expression implies disagreement, but she doesn't voice it, instead explaining, after a few moments, "I used to go and visit. Leova took me a few times. But it got harder and harder… I shock them. My Uncle thinks I'm a bad influence. The last time I went, he let me see my mother, but that was all." She shrugs her shoulders, finally. "I haven't been back. But you're right, of course… I have a weyr family." She smiles. "And that does help."
"A bad influence? You?" Milani stares at Madilla with disbelief written plain as day all over her face. "He only ... let you see your mother?" The headwoman's lips press together tightly and she covers her face for a moment. "Madilla -- I think maybe we'd better drop this for now," she says candidly. "Before I say something awful and offend you or worse, hurt your feelings." And there's rue in her voice and her features as she reaches for the healer's hands. "And even if we don't agree about some of these things, it doesn't change how much I respect you or care about you."
Madilla meets Milani's gaze squarely, utterly calm and accepting of - presumably - both her uncle's actions, and Milani's reaction. Such an awkward, narrow road she treads. "If you think that's best," she says, calmly, letting her hands be taken, and even drawing her own around the Headwoman's so that she can squeeze them. "I know that. And-- I don't mind, truly, that you can't understand, or agree, with… all of this. I understand, I think. But! " And now, she lets a brighter smile expand onto her features. "You mentioned babyclothes, earlier? And-- oh, the quilt I'm making for the baby! It's nearly finished, and I think it's coming together beautifully."
"For now anyway," Milani says with another little rueful laugh. "If only because /I'll/ start getting upset, even if wrongfully becaue of what might seem like slights to you that you wouldn't see that way." She pauses, gets a look like she's reviewing that in her head, laughs. "Okay, yes. Baby clothes! Well my mother has things she saved and my sister is passing on hand-me-downs too, though Paddy already recycled most of his kids' stuff through the stores at Fort and Ista and Remi and Vrys the same. But there's a lot of basics taken care of. But then I see some of the things that other babies are wearing and they're just - they're cute. So I've been thinking about asking for a few nice pieces." Her expression brightens at mention of the quilt. "Ohhh! Really? Do I get to ask about it, or is it completely a surprise?"
Madilla's head shakes, albeit only slightly; she doesn't add anything more to that more troublesome conversation, though, keeping her expression a benign one: all smiles. "I think," and from her tone of voice, she considers this utterly decadent - but well within reason, "there's absolutely nothing wrong with asking for /some/ nice, new things. And it's an easy gift for people: it doesn't matter what size, because he or she will grow in to things, and… they're adorable. Baby clothes. Besides, I think a lot of people keep some of the nicer things, to remember with. And you already said you'd be having more children, so they'll get used more than once." Logic! But interesting, coming from a girl who has probably never bought herself something new in her life. Still. "I hadn't thought that far," she admits, of the quilt. "Do you want to know?"
"Exactly!" Milani says happily. "I don't really make things myself, but it'll make my mother really happy to make some new things for the baby, for example." The headwoman grins at Madilla and lifts her shoulders. "Well, I'm interested, especially because you do such nice work with them and I can still barely do a good mending job."
Laughing; "And even ignoring the sheer pleasure of making your mother happy… it's good to keep grandmother happy." Madilla seems genuinely pleased with this, twining her fingers together contentedly as she considers for a moment, and then says, "I won't /show/ it to you until it's done, and-- he or she is here. But. It's a picture quilt. I was going to just do the alphabet, like I did for Delifa's, but I decided to try something more interesting. So… it's a representation of the weyr. Star Stones, spindles and all, plus some dragons here and there. And…" She pauses, and grins, clearly very pleased with herself. "In the foreground, a bronze dragon with three people in front of him."
"Ye-es. Though I'm not sure if it's possible to keep /Mikaela/ happy," Milani says with big round eyes about the /other/ grandmother in the picture. "Understood and oh, Madilla, that sounds /lovely/," Milani says enthusiastically, hands clasping together girlishly even. "That's a lot of meaning. I'm sure it'll be beautiful. Something we can treasure."
"Really? Oh dear." Madilla's tone is sympathetic. "That's a shame." Despite this, she can't help the outright /beam/ that settles in to her expression at the reaction to her quilt design. "I hope so. That's what I want for all my quilts, I suppose. Because they're made for specific people… anyway. I'm glad you like the sound of it. I hope it ends up looking like what it's supposed to. I /think/ it is, but it's hard to tell, sometimes."
"She's just you know, cranky all the time, but she's not a bad person," Milani says stoutly about K'ndro's mother. "I'm sure it'll be great even if it's not perfect," the headwoman adds and reaches for her glass to finish off her smoothie, looks up towards the clock that's kept behind the bar. "I should get going -- I've got a few things to see to before a call it a day."
Madilla's smile is sympathetic. "Of course. I'm sure she'll-- soften a little, with a grandchild in her arms." She hopes. No-- she seems to believe that without question: who couldn't soften, presented with a baby? Her gaze follows Milani's as she adds, "Right. And… made with love, so that helps everything. Of course-- and I should be studying. I have exams before the training program, and it's rather too easy to forget that." Which is probably a complete lie. "Have a good one, Milani. Look after yourself."
"Perhaps," is all Milani will commit to where Mikaela is concerned as she carefully and awkwardly gets up and fishes her shoes out. "Made with love, definitely helps," the headwoman agrees sincerely and she reaches over to give Madilla's shoulder a squeeze. "Good luck with the studying and those exams. I'll see you soon, Madilla."
Of Mikaela, Madilla says nothing more, nor of the quilt, though as the Headwoman reaches to squeeze her shoulder, she raises a hand to squeeze that hand in turn. "Thank you, Milani," she says, warmly, as she lets her hand drop again. "I'll see you later. For that picnic, if nothing else!" And then, not all that reluctantly, she reaches for her book again: back to the study.
When: Day 25, Month 5, Turn 21
Where: Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr
What: Madilla and Milani have a lengthy conversation that covers many topics, and briefly delves into irreconcilable differences between hold and weyr life, before returning to the perennial and much-enjoyed topic of babies.
Totally stolen from Madilla.
Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr
The Snowasis is rarely quiet, and even then, the high-ceilinged former weyr is kept from echoing by the fantastical booths tucked into its convoluted perimeter. The secluded seating spaces have been shaped from the truncated stalagmites that escaped the smoothing of the main floor, and are both softened and separated by colorful hangings that are thick and opaque enough to make each corner its own private nook.
Some of the smaller stalactites still roam the ceiling, their jagged teeth tracing a bumpy, inverted spine to the hearth. There, a thick rug with a low klah table and comfortable armchairs and couches sit, their upholstery and cushions changed sporadically to match the season: bright, light colors in the summer, fresh greens and yellows in the spring, warm autumnals in fall, and clear, rich hues for winter. Small tables litter the rest of the cavern, enough to fit up to four people each, while stools stand along the smooth wooden bar behind which is the passthrough window to the kitchen. Glass-paneled cabinetry behind the bar provides a clear view of the available liquors, the many colors reflecting the soft light of glows tucked into strategic niches around the cavern.
Spring may be supposedly heading determinately on towards summer, but that doesn't mean it can't throw up the occasional surprise: like today's very late season snow flurry. Not that it's sticking on the ground anywhere, but still, grumbling amongst those in the Snowasis is highly audible: can't the warmth just stay for a while now, really, please? Amidst the busy late afternoon crowd is Madilla, not a usual occupant of this part of the weyr, but, for the afternoon, taking up one of the big armchairs by the hearth, with a mug of something sitting on the table in front of her, and a book tucked away in her lap. For the moment, though, she seems to be staring off into space more than actually reading.
The headwoman has started waddling a bit with just 13-ish weeks to go until that baby makes an appearance. Milani's had to forgo her usual uniform and has taken to wearing loose tunic-tops over a skirt, more flowing lines than the usually neat silhouette she adopts while on duty. A puff of breath announces the need to pause, lean against the bar for a moment. "Hey, got one of those fruity-shake things?" she asks the barkeep on duty with a friendly smile that's acknowledged with a lift of chin and the busy-making of said drink, while blue-green eyes roam the bustling crowd and ultimately settle on Madilla. "I'll be right over there," Milani tells the bartender and pushes away from the bar with that ungainly gait to go flop down in the next chair over from the healer. "Hey Madilla," she greets the apprentice cheerily nonetheless.
Madilla can't be too wrapped up in her own thoughts, because the sound of the Headwoman's voice has her head turning in an easy, relaxed motion, a smile instantly pressing itself into place upon her face. "Milani," she greets, with audible warmth, as she leans forward to reclaim her drink from the table, nursing it between both hands. "How are you doing?" She's almost certainly missed the ungainliness, given where her attention was during Milani's approach, but there's something knowing in her gaze anyway that has her adding, "Aside from feeling a little unbalanced, maybe?"
Leaning back in that chair, Milani still kicks her shoes off and manages to fold her legs up beneather herself tailor-style though rather than like a VTOL. "Oh I'm good," the headwoman claims cheerfully. "Just get achy back if I do too much sitting or standing now," she says ruefully. "I guess this is the part that a lot of women complain about. But I've been doing stretches with my mother. She's got all sorts of useful advice, so it's not going that badly, really. I don't mind too much. And I'm not sleepy like I was for a bit there, so it's all good! Though I do need to lie down for a little while most afternoons." Breath. Beat. "How're you? And do you want to feel him or her kick? Baby's awake and pretty energetic right now," she continues blithely.
The tumbling mass of words makes Madilla's smile widen, amused, but also unmistakably interested. "Your mother's had a few, hasn't she? So she'd know. Good." But that's remarked on more or less as an aside, the healer concentrating rather more eagerly on, "Really? I-- would like to." Her words are a little shy, as she admits, "I always like that. Feeling… it's like a really, really distinctive 'there's a baby in there, really!' flag, I guess?" She slides forwards, setting her mug back down, and then her book, though she doesn't actually reach to touch Milani just yet, instead adding, "I'm well. Only a few sevens before I head to the Hall." For nine-odd weeks, as she's no doubt mentioned to Milani before.
"Four of us," Milani supplies with a bob or two of her head. "And ... several lost in between," she adds with a little wrinkling of nose and forehead. One of the servers sets down the headwoman's smoothie and she beams up at the young woman, passes her a tip then reaches over for Madilla's hand. "Right here. Feel it? Heck, can you /see/ it?" she adds laughingly. "Good. And shells, are you looking forward to going? It's a while to be gone. Exciting, yeah?"
There's a little, but obvious, wince from Madilla in response to mention of those babies lost in between; despite this, she can't seem to keep that smile away, because as Milani takes her hand, it's back in place. Her, "Oh!" is one of genuine pleasure as she feels the kick beneath her outspread palm. "Active. Like his or her mama, I suppose." There's a hesitant pause before she adds, in response to the question, "I suppose? It's a little… nerve-wracking. I'm excited about everything I'm going to learn, but it's… I'm nervous, I suppose." Her expression is wry. "I'm going to miss here - and everyone - an awful lot."
"Some," Milani agrees about active, skipping over any further mentions of her mother's miscarriages. "Usually a long awake time in the afternoon and then a little in the middle of the night and a bit first thing in the morning." She pauses, thoughtful. "Do you think it'll stay that way after this kid is born?" Her hand covers Madilla's more fully, giving it a sympathetic squeeze. "There's some nice people down there though, right? I know a weaver from the Weyr and some of Paddy's friends from when he lived there."
"Maybe... it's always hard to tell. I know Delvana's awake times changed completely, from what Delifa said, but she was a pretty bad sleeper for a while. I hope he or she isn't disrupting your sleep too much, though? Plenty of time for that later." Rueful, again, but with a smile. She keeps that smile in place as she adds, slowly, "I'm sure there are. It's been nearly four turns since I lived at the Hall, and I'm... different now, I think. I didn't speak to very many people, back then, just a few of the apprentices, and most of them are off posted now, and not coming this summer." She shakes her head, then, and laughs: "I'm sure I'll be fine. Just have to get used to it."
"Guess I'll just find out then," MIlani says with another little laugh and smiles back at Madilla, gives her hand another little squeeze, then starts to move the healer's palm along to a slightly different spot where the baby's hind end is bumping up and re-shaping the headwoman's stomach. "Things change," she adds, agreeing lifts her free hand to tuck back a strand of her hair. "I'm sure you will be too. I might be able to come visit for a bit, but not for too much longer." Apologetic.
Madilla's little 'oh!' is mixed in with a laugh, breaking her well and truly free from her apprehension, and back into genuine smiles. Despite herself, she leans in, whispering, "Hello little one." It turns her cheeks pink, and as she glances back up, her gaze is apologetic; hurriedly, she says, "No, of course you can't, not for much longer. No-- I'll be fine. B'tal said he-- but that was before. So I don't know, now. Either way. Nine weeks isn't /so/ long, and I'm sure I will meet new people, make some friends. I might not even want to come back, in the end!" But not really, says her tone.
There's only a smile, renewed from Milani as Madilla leans in to talk to the baby. "I can send Paddy over to visit, you've met him before right, now and then in passing at least when he's visited? He's nice and I'll bet he'd bring the kids. My niece, Dharia, she's five months old now, will be just a half turn old around when you go," the headwoman explains, "and the other kids are older, Palia's 7, Jaivery's almost 5 and Dylan's 2 and a half." She leans forward a little, reaches for her glass and lifts it, sipping slowly. "Oh that just hits the spot. Refreshing and filling all at once. And you're right - make new friends, meet new people, maybe get a little fresh perspective. That ought to be nice."
Madilla finally, and possibly with some reluctance, pulls her hand away from Milani's belly, and back to her own lap. "Oh, would you?" she says, of Paddy and the kids. "I'd like that. So many children! Your family seems... prolific. For weyr-folk, anyway. Is it really pathetic of me to hope for lots of visitors so I can prove how popular and successful I am?" Her cheeks are pink again; she's only half joking. "Right," she continues, a little more seriously, as she reaches for her own drink - though in the end, she only sniffs at it before setting it down again: cold, presumably. "I hope so. It'd... probably be good for me. There's every chance I'll get posted away from the weyr when I walk the tables, after all. This'll be a good chance to get used to that. And when I get back... you'll very nearly be a mother, I should think. Unless you beat me to it, of course."
"Sure! I'll write him a letter," Milani says over the rim of her glass and takes a few more sips. "He'd probably have more if things had gone differently for him. Well maybe, anyway. And I guess we are at that. I mean, I'm the youngest and here I am having my first and everyone else has at least one. Paddy's the real fertile turtle in the bunch though, with four and all by different women," Millie relates without any signs of embarrassment and no pause. "Pathetic? No. Just shows you're aware of that kind of political -- whatever," the headwoman says with a shrug and sets her glass down, licks a bit of smoothie out of the corner of her mouth and rearranges her position a bit so she's leaning more against the chair's arm. "That's true ... posting out. Shells ... I'll miss you if that happens. And it's not too long until you can walk the tables, is it?" A laugh follows as Milani looks down at her tummy again. "They said no later than the middle of the ninth month at my last exam, based on the measurements."
It says a great deal about how far Madilla's come in the past few turns that it doesn't send her cheeks pink, either, at this mention of Paddy and his four children all by different mothers. "I think it's nice," she says. "That all your children will have cousins all over the place, and lots of them." She seems pleased that the Headwoman doesn't think her comment pathetic, though the smile freezes, and then fades slightly as she admits, "I'd miss you, too. And… just here, in general. I turn nineteen in month eight, so a turn after that, and then it could be any time. but still: a turn is a long time, really." By her expression? Both far too long, and far too short, probably. "Middle of month nine. I /should/ be back by the start of month nine. Not that it matters… I know the midwives will have it all under control. But I'd like to be at the weyr, and not the hall, anyway."
"I like having a big family," Milani agrees. "My sister's having another baby too, but she's only just found out. But there'll be a cousin for this one," her hand pats at her tummy, "close in age, closer than Dharia even. And I bet my brother Remi and his weyrmate will have at least one more. Jenivrys is very family-oriented." She takes a breath, lets it ou, nods. "Well no sense in crying over milk that's not spilled yet. Hopefully if you do get posted out, it won't be /too/ far away," Millie says sincerely then reaches forward, aiming to capture Madilla's hand again. "I'd like it if you're there, even if you're not on duty ... if you'd like, Madilla."
A brief dark shadow crosses over Madilla's face as Milani talks about all those babies, and all those family members, but it doesn't linger. Firmly, and with warmth, she says, "I think that's lovely. Good. And there'll be more in your future, you think?" She nods her agreement to what gets said next equally firmly - "Right. Can't--" but breaks off before she gets finished as Milani takes her hand. She flushes, looking pleased, though she hesitates over her answer, "You-- would? Really? Because I /would/ like to, but I wouldn't want to… intrude."
"Yes, I really would like you to be there and I don't think it's intruding at all," Milani says stoutly, hand squeezing Madilla's before she leans back again and runs both palms over the curve of her abdomen. "As for more family, yes. I think maybe one or two more after this one. And at least one with K'del. For sure. He was -- pretty disappointed I think that this one /isn't/ his." Her grin takes on a slightly wry quality as she says that, eyes the shifting of the baby thoughtfully, gaze downturned.
"Then I'll do my very best to make sure I'm back in time," promises Madilla. "And available to be there." This obviously pleases her a great deal, her hands crossing in front of her, resting calmly upon her lap. Mention of K'del, though, makes her expression go slightly peculiar. Not that what she says next gives away the reason why, it being a fairly innocuous, "I'm sure he'd like that." Beat. "I suppose I can… empathise with him. But if all goes well, he'll get his turn, and so will I." Smile.
"Oh good. After everything ... well it's just that you're such a good friend as well as a good healer, Madilla," Milani says earnestly. "I'd feel more comfortable with you there." A little pause follows and then more softly: "Just in case." Another movement distends her abdomen and her fingers trace along its path. "In fact, if anything really bad /does/ happen, I'd -- well I know you're an apprentice and you could get posted, you might not be able to stay and of course K'ndro has family and he'd like to foster this child to his family for a little while at some point when he or she is older. But --" she takes a breath, looks up at Madilla, earnest again, "-- but I'd like it if you'd consider being part of the baby's foster-family."
Surprise alters the expression on Madilla's face, and leaves her completely without words. It takes a long time - her mouth held partly open - before she manages to come up with something appropriate to say, though despite the pause, there's no question that she's utterly overwhelmed, and in a good way, with the prospect. "Of course," is what she says, finally, more breathing the words than saying them. "If you-- I mean: yes, yes, of course I would. I'd be honoured. I'd-- do everything I possibly could. If something did go wrong. Ever."
The smile that breaks across Milani's face next is a wide beaming one. "Thank you, Madilla," she says softly. "That would mean a lot to me. Not that I don't think my family and K'ndro's wouldn't take good care of my baby, but I think kids need a mother and I think you'd be a really wonderful one."
"I'd be the best one I possibly could be," promises Madilla, again, matching Milani's smile without hesitation. "Though I hope it never comes to that. It shouldn't. Though I understand the desire to… be prepared." She hugs her arms around her middle, without really seeming to notice she's doing it, and then adds, changing the subject, "Are you feeling… ready? Prepared? Getting there, at least?"
"I know you would," Milani says confidently and lets her hands rest lightly atop that bump. "I hope not either. But --" she shrugs lightly, smiles a little. "Yes. It's good to be ready for anything. As for being ready to take care of a baby, shells, I don't know. Sometimes, I'm fine about it, other days I think I'm crazy."
Madilla gives only a slow, firm nod in response to that first, less pleasant topic, turning the most of her attention to the second. "From everything I've seen," she says, with a twitch of a smile, "that's completely normal. It's a-- big adjustment. At least you'll have a weyr's worth of nannies to help out, and I'm /sure/ your mother will be full of useful advice."
"I know I will. And Mum's pretty determined that there will be as little time spent in nursery as possible. I think that's something she regrets from when Paddy was little," Milani says thoughtfully. "So, it's not so much about not having help, it's ... me." She taps her chest. "What kind of mother will I be? And can I even do half as good a job as my own mother did."
Madilla hesitates before she answers that, but when she does, her voice is sure. "I know hearing it from me won't change anything-- I imagine nothing will, until you've got him or her in your arms-- but… You'll be the best mother you /can/ be, Milani, and that's all you can hope for. Just do your best. But I? I think you'll be a wonderful mother, and I'm really looking forward to watching your child grow up."
Milani colors a little under that complimentary statement and looks up at Madilla with gratitude though there's some uncertainty in her eyes still. "I'll try, that's for sure," she says and then laughs, reaches for her drink and takes a big drink. "You know, when the weather gets better, we should have a picnic," the headwoman changes the subject abruptly but with good cheer.
The flush makes the corners of Madilla's mouth twitch slightly, though more with warmth than actual amusement. She's probably aware of the remaining uncertainty, too, but apparently lacking anything more to say, she says, only, "A picnic? Oh-- what a lovely idea. As long as the weather remembers that it's actually /spring/ and nearly /summer/ soon." Though even that is said cheerfully. "Leova and I had a picnic for my turnday, last turn, and it was-- just lovely."
"Exactly," Milani says with big eyes. "Seasons, behave!" she waves a finger like she can make it so and then beams. "Oh yes, it's always great going on picnics with Leova. She's a really good friend."
Teasingly; "You're practicing your disciplinarian side already! If /I/ were the weather, I'd probably listen." Madilla bobs her head firmly on mention of Leova, agreeing without reservation. "She is. I'm glad I was finally able to come up with something for /her/ turnday, last turn, when she always does something for mine." Beat. "I met her when I was still back at the Hall, before I had any idea where I was going to end up. It helped, I think, when I moved, that I knew I'd at least /talked/ to someone who lived here, other than Delifa."
Milani bursts out into almost girlish sounding giggles. "Mm, well you know, I do have to wrangle staff all the time," she notes with a wink and listens to Madilla's tale about Leova. "Oh really? That must have been nice, to have a familiar face like that. And -- she's just one of those people that I know I can count on. You know?"
"You'll have to teach me," declares Madilla, laughing. "Because one day, I may have to wrangle apprentices, and… I think I find it easier when we're all on the same level? Which isn't very useful when you're supposed to be training them." Her smile is a little crooked as she agrees of Milani's last; "I do. Absolutely. We all need to know people like that, I think."
"Ohhh well, you know, it's mostly just a question of projecting confidence and knowing what you're doing," is Milani's take on things. "That and honestly taking it from the perspective of getting the job done. Because I don't think anyone likes it when you put them off or do things for some kind of political reason." Her head tilts to the side, expression thoughtful and then she re-focuses, nods about Leova. "Definitely. She's good people, Leova."
"Politics." Madilla makes a face as she repeats this, though her nod is firm. "I suppose that makes sense. I guess it's something that gets easier over time?" Beat. "I used to be terrified of being a Journeyman. Of being the one to make decisions, rather than just follow orders. It's-- strange. I'm not sure when that changed. I imagine it'll still be difficult, though, making that adjustment."
"Sure, you grow into it and it's a skill that you can practice just like anything else," Milani says candidly. "I mean, I used to just blurt whatever came into my head," she explains as an example. "I got a lot better about that. And I think it can still be sobering sometimes to realize that it's /your/ decisions making things go forward. But at the same time, it's freeing to just be able to act as you think is best too."
"I get that, absolutely," says Madilla, with a wry smile. "Knowing that my decisions as a healer could be the difference between life and death. That… as an apprentice, allowed to take cases on my own for the first time?" She shivers, her head shaking. "But you get used to it, I suppose. And… you're right, it is freeing. Taking ownership over things, I suppose? And trusting your instincts and your skills to… do things right."
"I think it might actually be harder for a healer," Milani says candidly. "After all, most of the decisions I have to make are /not/ life and death," the headwoman points out. "Though keeping the Weyr properly supplied, well, it's important."
After a moment of thoughtful consideration, Madilla says, "But that could-- well. If the weyr were without sufficient supplies, it could lead to all kinds of problems. People here..." She pauses. "In holds, at least the small ones, everything has to be managed personally. But people in weyrs aren't used to that, so if the right decisions weren't made, I suspect things could fall apart quite easily." She adds, then, softly, "But... Coming to the conclusion that we couldn't save Weyrwoman Satiet? That kind of decision... it could easily haunt a person, I think. For example." Beat. "You sort of have to let your decisions go in the end, though, don't you? Because they're made, and you can't change them."
"Yes, they can," Milani says with a little nod. "When the tithes didn't come from Crom ..." she makes a motion with her hand, blows out a breath. "It was bad, could have been worse." Mention of Satiet drops Milani's chin for a moment, but she just listens. "Right. You do because you can only make the best ones you can at the time you make them."
"Yes," says Madilla, letting go of a low breath of her own. "I remember what you said about that, a few months ago… listening to all the rumours of what's been going on more recently. It's sobering." She lets go the mention of Satiet, her expression all but suggesting she feels guilty for even mentioning it; hurriedly, she concludes, "Right. And all of that? Well… I think I'd rather be a healer than someone in charge of a weyr in any way, I think. I don't have to deal with treachery. It all comes down to my skills and knowledge; and sometimes, people can't be saved, and it's important to recognise that, too."
"It's hard to know what to say about that," Milani says soberly and pushes her hand through her hair. "It's -- well I guess the best way to sum it up is that old adage: "Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me," the headwoman concludes ruefully. "And you're right, there's probably not all that much in the way of politics for you at the end of the day, though they're everywhere. But the amount ... it's different."
Madilla's nod is a careful one. "I can't imagine anyone will let it happen a third time, at least." Beat. "You'd think. I can sort of understand… I mean, it did seem like a good idea, to me. But as I said: politics aren't really my thing, so what do I know, really." She tilts her head backwards, considering the ceiling for a moment, before her attention returns to the Headwoman. "Very different. I know it does happen, that things get political. But… at the end of the day, all I can do is ignore it and focus on doing my /job/." She pauses for a moment, and then laughs. "What dreary topics we stumble on, sometimes."
"No, I don't think so," Milani agrees with a shake of her head. "And it's not that the idea itself is bad, just ... Lord Crom," the headwoman concludes. "And it's a good thing maybe, about healing that it goes that way. Because at the end of the day, you have to make people better, or try to and that trumps other things." Laughing, she leans back in her chair again. "Well, I think they're interesting conversations. But if you'd rather ditch politics ... we could talk about baby clothes and stuff."
Madilla makes a face, once more, at further mention of Lord Crom. "It would be a strange thing," she remarks, suddenly. "To be posted somewhere else and have to… change loyalties, as it were. It only just occurred to me. I suppose the Hall takes that into account, though… To some degree." Beat. "Oh, it's not that they're /not/ interesting conversations. Just… when I was a child, women didn't really talk about this kind of thing. Men's business. It's still a little strange, to me, I suppose. It's important, though, I think, to be… aware of what's going on. Because it is sort of everyone's business."
"I can't really imagine," Milani says honestly. "I -- well I'm Reaches through and through. I can't see myself ever going anywhere else to live, not long term." What Madilla says next though makes Milani blink a few times. "Men's ... business?" she looks thoroughly puzzled. "Why ... would it only be men's business?" Curious head-tilt.
Madilla's smile is fond as she nods in response to Milani's words. "Whereas-- well, I call the Reaches home, and I don't want to leave, but: I go where my craft sends me. And if the Reaches earned my loyalty in a couple of turns, I imagine somewhere else could, too." The reaction to her latter words draw a more rueful expression; she takes a pause, and a deep breath, before she actually answers. "Because that's the way it is. Women look after the household, men make sure they're provided for, all the decisions made, all the rest of it. Women aren't supposed to worry about things outside the immediate household." Despite the fact that she has so obviously moved beyond this kind of ruling, Madilla doesn't seem uncomfortable with it.
"Right and you'd really need to do that, if the craft sends you to a place. I mean, I don't think i t'd work out too well if a crafter didn't have some kind of loyalty .. .but having to change it all the time ..." Milani trails off, looking thoughtful. "I wonder what my brother and sister think about that. How it's been for them. I never really thought about it before." Madilla's description of hold life where she's from draws an ill-masked reaction from Milani. The corners of her mouth turn down and she looks away hastily. "I'm -- I'm sorry, Madilla. That just sounds ... well it sounds completely crazy," the headwoman admits. "It makes no sense. I mean, what if a girl is no good at looking after the household and a boy is?"
"I imagine if you move around a lot, you form fewer attachments to a place… but if you were a few turns, everywhere? I don't know. Maybe you just get used to it." Madilla frowns as she says this, then shrugs, though she stiffens a small amount at Milani's reaction to her description of hold life. "How would you know? Boys do men's work, girls do women's. You pull your weight, or you can't stay… there's nothing to spare, at least where I come, for people who don't. I don't think it's crazy. I don't… it was easier, sometimes. Even when I was with W'chek: knowing that he was there to guide me, and… tell me what was right. Even though sometimes it felt strange, too, and I might have had difficulty if he'd instructed me to do something like leave my craft. It's just… the way it is. They don't know any different, and when they do, most of them think the weyr way is… as crazy as you think their way is."
There's a long silence from Milani at the end of that and she swallows hard. "Instructed you ... to leave your craft ..." utter disbelief paints her face. "As if he'd have any right. As if any person has any right to make those kinds of decisions and force another person to do what they think, like that." And the headwoman looks very deeply disturbed. "I'm sorry. It's just also ... what makes something men's work or women's work? There's no such thing, just what each person is or isn't good at."
Madilla's expression is calm. "My uncle made the decision to send me to the craft in the first place," she notes, voice very even. "I was never asked what I wanted… nor would I have been given a choice who to marry: I was engaged to a neighbouring holder's son when I was still very small. It's the way it is, Milani. And when that's the way you grow up? Why would you question it? It never occurred to me - ever - to dispute a decision. They knew better than I did. Women…" She shakes her head. "There is such a thing in the holds. I know it seems very strange to you, but… it never did to me. It still doesn't, to some extent, even if I've adjusted to the way things are here."
"There are people who do," Milani says, head thunking back in her chair. "People who wind up here, leaving that behind because they can't take it anymore." She sighs softly and closes her eyes, lifts a hand to rub at her forehead between her eyes. "I don't think it's that way in every hold though, either. Some are like that, some aren't. Depends on the hold. On the holders. I hear that kind of thing too from people who come here. It's just ... I'm sorry, the idea of just doing something because someone told me to, because that person was a /guy/, not because he actually really knew better or ranked me in any way, it just ... it makes my skin crawl."
"I suppose so," allows Madilla. "But not most. I was… happy. Very happy. I never knew anyone who wanted to leave, but granted, I didn't know many people outside my own family. And of course, I'm sure there are many holds where things are different; I can only speak from my own experiences." She manages a smile, eventually, more than a little rueful, but a genuine smile nonetheless. "It must seem /very/ different. I remember how I felt when I left home… there was a /female/ Craftmaster. And the men deferred to her! It may - as you say - make your skin crawl, but it works for others. So. Just be glad you were born where you were?"
"I know," Milani says with a quiet sigh. "It's hard to accept that though. That people can give themselves up like that. It just screams out as being wrong on so many levels. The most basic ones," the headwoman admits. "And I am glad, every day, that I'm here, that I have the family I have, that I have the friends I have," Milani says staunchly. "It's part of why -- well you know, I'd do just about anything for my home. To keep the Reaches alive and well and /thriving/."
Quietly; "They don't see it as giving themselves up." But Madilla leaves it be after that, content to settle back in her chair with that rueful smile, and nod. "I can understand that. I think… being grateful for things is one of the biggest motivations there is, in the end. Because you like something as it is, and will do everything you can to look after it." Even more quietly than before, she adds, "I don't regret what's happened in my life. Any of it. Ending up where I have, when it was never something I could even comprehend, once. I just wish it hadn't meant giving up my family."
"Maybe not, but that's what it is, that's the truth of it," Milani says, turning her head to look at Madilla with a complicated expression on her face. "It's ... almost like a kind of slavery. Almost. And just ..." one hand gestures futilely. "It's just really hard for someone like me to understand," she admits and then blows out a breath. "Oh Madilla ... but you visit, or you can, can't you?" she sits forward then, both hands extended. "Or -- well, doesn't it feel like you have another family here? A Weyr-family?"
Madilla's expression implies disagreement, but she doesn't voice it, instead explaining, after a few moments, "I used to go and visit. Leova took me a few times. But it got harder and harder… I shock them. My Uncle thinks I'm a bad influence. The last time I went, he let me see my mother, but that was all." She shrugs her shoulders, finally. "I haven't been back. But you're right, of course… I have a weyr family." She smiles. "And that does help."
"A bad influence? You?" Milani stares at Madilla with disbelief written plain as day all over her face. "He only ... let you see your mother?" The headwoman's lips press together tightly and she covers her face for a moment. "Madilla -- I think maybe we'd better drop this for now," she says candidly. "Before I say something awful and offend you or worse, hurt your feelings." And there's rue in her voice and her features as she reaches for the healer's hands. "And even if we don't agree about some of these things, it doesn't change how much I respect you or care about you."
Madilla meets Milani's gaze squarely, utterly calm and accepting of - presumably - both her uncle's actions, and Milani's reaction. Such an awkward, narrow road she treads. "If you think that's best," she says, calmly, letting her hands be taken, and even drawing her own around the Headwoman's so that she can squeeze them. "I know that. And-- I don't mind, truly, that you can't understand, or agree, with… all of this. I understand, I think. But! " And now, she lets a brighter smile expand onto her features. "You mentioned babyclothes, earlier? And-- oh, the quilt I'm making for the baby! It's nearly finished, and I think it's coming together beautifully."
"For now anyway," Milani says with another little rueful laugh. "If only because /I'll/ start getting upset, even if wrongfully becaue of what might seem like slights to you that you wouldn't see that way." She pauses, gets a look like she's reviewing that in her head, laughs. "Okay, yes. Baby clothes! Well my mother has things she saved and my sister is passing on hand-me-downs too, though Paddy already recycled most of his kids' stuff through the stores at Fort and Ista and Remi and Vrys the same. But there's a lot of basics taken care of. But then I see some of the things that other babies are wearing and they're just - they're cute. So I've been thinking about asking for a few nice pieces." Her expression brightens at mention of the quilt. "Ohhh! Really? Do I get to ask about it, or is it completely a surprise?"
Madilla's head shakes, albeit only slightly; she doesn't add anything more to that more troublesome conversation, though, keeping her expression a benign one: all smiles. "I think," and from her tone of voice, she considers this utterly decadent - but well within reason, "there's absolutely nothing wrong with asking for /some/ nice, new things. And it's an easy gift for people: it doesn't matter what size, because he or she will grow in to things, and… they're adorable. Baby clothes. Besides, I think a lot of people keep some of the nicer things, to remember with. And you already said you'd be having more children, so they'll get used more than once." Logic! But interesting, coming from a girl who has probably never bought herself something new in her life. Still. "I hadn't thought that far," she admits, of the quilt. "Do you want to know?"
"Exactly!" Milani says happily. "I don't really make things myself, but it'll make my mother really happy to make some new things for the baby, for example." The headwoman grins at Madilla and lifts her shoulders. "Well, I'm interested, especially because you do such nice work with them and I can still barely do a good mending job."
Laughing; "And even ignoring the sheer pleasure of making your mother happy… it's good to keep grandmother happy." Madilla seems genuinely pleased with this, twining her fingers together contentedly as she considers for a moment, and then says, "I won't /show/ it to you until it's done, and-- he or she is here. But. It's a picture quilt. I was going to just do the alphabet, like I did for Delifa's, but I decided to try something more interesting. So… it's a representation of the weyr. Star Stones, spindles and all, plus some dragons here and there. And…" She pauses, and grins, clearly very pleased with herself. "In the foreground, a bronze dragon with three people in front of him."
"Ye-es. Though I'm not sure if it's possible to keep /Mikaela/ happy," Milani says with big round eyes about the /other/ grandmother in the picture. "Understood and oh, Madilla, that sounds /lovely/," Milani says enthusiastically, hands clasping together girlishly even. "That's a lot of meaning. I'm sure it'll be beautiful. Something we can treasure."
"Really? Oh dear." Madilla's tone is sympathetic. "That's a shame." Despite this, she can't help the outright /beam/ that settles in to her expression at the reaction to her quilt design. "I hope so. That's what I want for all my quilts, I suppose. Because they're made for specific people… anyway. I'm glad you like the sound of it. I hope it ends up looking like what it's supposed to. I /think/ it is, but it's hard to tell, sometimes."
"She's just you know, cranky all the time, but she's not a bad person," Milani says stoutly about K'ndro's mother. "I'm sure it'll be great even if it's not perfect," the headwoman adds and reaches for her glass to finish off her smoothie, looks up towards the clock that's kept behind the bar. "I should get going -- I've got a few things to see to before a call it a day."
Madilla's smile is sympathetic. "Of course. I'm sure she'll-- soften a little, with a grandchild in her arms." She hopes. No-- she seems to believe that without question: who couldn't soften, presented with a baby? Her gaze follows Milani's as she adds, "Right. And… made with love, so that helps everything. Of course-- and I should be studying. I have exams before the training program, and it's rather too easy to forget that." Which is probably a complete lie. "Have a good one, Milani. Look after yourself."
"Perhaps," is all Milani will commit to where Mikaela is concerned as she carefully and awkwardly gets up and fishes her shoes out. "Made with love, definitely helps," the headwoman agrees sincerely and she reaches over to give Madilla's shoulder a squeeze. "Good luck with the studying and those exams. I'll see you soon, Madilla."
Of Mikaela, Madilla says nothing more, nor of the quilt, though as the Headwoman reaches to squeeze her shoulder, she raises a hand to squeeze that hand in turn. "Thank you, Milani," she says, warmly, as she lets her hand drop again. "I'll see you later. For that picnic, if nothing else!" And then, not all that reluctantly, she reaches for her book again: back to the study.