Log: Girl Time in the Commons
Who: Madilla, Milani, Saliqa
When: Afternoon, day 15, month 5, turn 22 of the 10th interval
Where: Commons, High Reaches Weyr
What: Crafty downtime turns into girly catch up time around a table in the commons.
Log stolen from Madilla!
Resident Common Room, High Reaches Weyr
Just off of the main passageway lies the small cavern that forms the hub of the residents' quarters, kept immaculately clean by the headwoman's staff and warmed in cold weather by a stone hearth to the left and well back from the entrance. Comfortable chairs and a plush fur arrayed before the hearth make an inviting spot to curl up with a book or handicraft, or just to sit and chat. Beyond, additional chairs stand in clusters throughout the room, some upholstered with age-softened hide, some plain wood. At the widest point of the cavern, a round table gleams with polish, though its surface is nicked and scarred from Turns of use. Beyond the table, the very back of the cavern often lies in shadow unless the glowbaskets there are unlidded to cast cozy pools of light. The commingled scents of klah, smoke and polish permeate the air along with the sweetness of rosemary and lavender.
Tapestries hang across the entrances to dormitories and more private quarters as well as the exit to the outer hall, colorful protections from drafts.
The fog that clings to the bowl has driven many indoors today and the common room has its fair share of occupants. Among them is Milani, who appears to either be on a break, or taking a little down time, though some might not call learning to knit 'down' time. The headwoman's tongue is stuck out between her lips and off to one side as she handles the needles in a hopelessly awkward manner, chanting beneath her breath: "Knit two ... purl one ... no wait ... is it the other way around? Argh. Purl two ... knit one ..."
Madilla's damp hair and pink-cheeked face suggests she's not long out of the baths, though she emerges, now, from her own room, carrying with her the little cloth bag that contains all her quilting supplies. The healer slips between chairs and past the table towards a free seat spotted from across the room, one that just so happens to be not far from the Headwoman. Amusement shades her expression as, having seated herself, she glances up to watch Milani. Then; "It looks as though you're as good at that as I am." Which is to say… not very!
This isn't Saliqa's first time past the common room; in fact, she's been a standard for several minutes now. What she's doing seems to be an elongated version of pacing because she'll stroll through the edge of the room and disappear down the caverns and then, some time later, appear again at that cavern and walk the other way into the resident quarters. Her path only diverts when some other person or another is also trying to walk and the girl finds herself in the way, but she doesn't always appear to notice anyway.
Needles lower and Milani blows out a frustrated breath. "ANd I thought my /sewing/ was bad," she confides to Madilla-across-the-way. "At least I can stitch up my hems properly now, thanks to you," she adds with a little laugh and holds up the hopeless bungle that is the knitting she's been assaying. "I don't think this is ever going to remotely resemble the dishcloth it's supposed to be." She puffs out another breath and looks up as Saliqa does another pacing circuit and regards the Cromite for a moment. "Saliqa ... do you know how to knit?" she pitches her voice to be heard.
As she gets out her own handcraft supplies, Madilla gives the knitting an appraising glance, and shakes her head ruefully; no hope for it at all, her expression says. Any answer she might have intended to make is forestalled as her companion calls across to Saliqa; she twists her body to get a glance at the older girl, smiling in greeting, though her brows furrow at that pacing walk, too. "So perhaps that part of our education was deficient for all of us? My mother did /try/..." And failed, apparently.
Saliqa's head perks at the sound of her own name -- a bit surprisingly, perhaps, considering how into it she seemed to be. But she glances about as though she expected this summons, and then her eyebrows pull for the revelation that it's coming from Milani. Sparing a few more gazes for the room on a whole, she takes a few hesitant then more confident steps towards the two girls. "A bit, yes. What I'm, uh, required to. I think you're supposed to go counterclockwise with that next one, ma'am."
"So did my mother," Milani tells Madilla with a laugh. "She ... let it go pretty quickly too. Poor Mum, none of her children carried on with her weaverish tendencies, we all seem to've taken after our fathers instead." Her needles kind of go 'clicky clicky' and she smiles at Saliqa. "Counterclockwise? Huh." ANd she's furrowing brows at the knitting, still puzzled. "How've you been by the way? I'm a little bit afraid for the carpet right now - could wind up with a path worn through it," she teases a little, voice friendly.
"I think my mother would be pleased with my quilting," says Madilla, sounding thoughtful. "Though I suppose the rest of my sisters are proficient at all parts of household maintenance, now, so she'd having nothing to be ashamed of with them." Just Madilla, maybe. She's turned herself back around, now that Saliqa is approaching, but her gaze returns to the other girl, now, and she adds, "You do look… distracted. Is everything well?"
"It's fine," is the immediate answer from Saliqa, folding her hands in front of her to keep from fidgeting now that she can't pace. "Sorry, I -- didn't realize I was bothering anyone with it... I just don't wait well." A pinched smile, then she gestures with her combined hands to the projects both women hold. "What is this you've got going on, then? For hobby, or?" Raising her chin, she sort of eyes down at Milani's handiwork. "... Learning?"
"You do /lovely/ quilting work," Milani enthuses to the healer. "And well, you're good at a lot of other things that are worth being proud of. It's not an easy thing to be a /good/ healer," she says firmly. Her head starts shaking though in disclaimer. "Oh no, it's not a bother, but ... what are you waiting for, Saliqa?" the headwoman asks curiously before eyeing her knitting dismally. "Learning," she confirms with a doleful edge to her tone and starts to rip out that row.
Madilla looks pleased with the compliment, smiling somewhat shyly at Milani in response, as she gives a quick nod: she'll accept all of that. Her attention is fairly rapidly returned to Saliqa after that, though, and if she doesn't ask the question herself, well, she seems to await the answer to it all the more readily despite that. Her remark is quiet; "I don't know where you find the time to try and learn such things, Milani, with everything in /your/ life. Good for you."
"Oh, you know, only the word that will affect the way I live my life-- yes, /what/ a noble endeavor, to pick up a new skill, what with all the exciting things I'm sure you must pay attention to as Headwoman." Saliqa plowing through her answer is definitely not suspicious, not at all. Actually, she looks quite natural as she gestures enthusiastically to the knitting and then bends in Madilla's direction. "And don't think I didn't hear any of that. Madilla, not only are you a good healer, but you've the bedside manner to put the rest of Pern to shame."
"Oh a girl has to take a little time off and do something that /isn't/ ledgers and so on sometimes," Milani claims with a laugh. "Buuut I think you can tell that it's been two weeks since I last tried to work on this," she notes, waving the little bit of bungled knitting around like it's a flag on a very long pole. "And Saliqa's absolutely right. Excellent bedside manner," the headwoman help heap more praise on Madilla then shoots the Cromite another curious look. "They haven't sent word yet? Or ... it's expected today?"
Madilla turns scarlet, noting, hurriedly, "I wasn't fishing for compliments… please don't think I was!" But she looks pleased, even outright proud, and has to duck her gaze to recover her composure enough to resume her part of the conversation. Smoothing the fabric in her lap, she says, finally, "I was thinking more-- not just your job, Milani, but a /baby/, and-- the rest!" Boyfriends and all. She bites at her lip as she turns her attention back to Saliqa, frowning as she says, "Oh-- they're going to be telling you whether you're to stay here or not?" Sympathy floods her expression: she's been there.
Smiling through the compliments and the talk about jobs, Saliqa can yet barely hide the vague grimace that neither of them has managed to float past the topic of /her/ problems. With a wandering gaze, she waffles briefly about answering. Then, a sigh. "There's been word. All kind of word, it turns out, back and forth. It was finalized the second the Hatching was over, except now it isn't. So. Here I am. Or maybe not."
"I have help with all of it," Milani points out sunnily. "I'm not exactly raising Milandra by myself. She's got oodles of family, especially doting grandparents and her father and well, now that she's older, it's not so much of a struggle with sleep," the headwoman adds thoughtfully, still ripping back yarn, though her fingers pause and brows lift. "Wait ... they're jerking you around?" she sums up a little bluntly.
"How…" Madilla begins a response, then trails off, shaking her head: that frown is in full force. "That's awful," she decides, firmly. "You'd think they'd have more compassion. To leave you hanging like that!" She'd probably 'tsk' if she weren't occupied with speaking; her expression certainly encourages that kind of response.
Two reactions war on Saliqa's face, between agreeing with them and defensiveness over her home. Her next sigh is more akin to a groan with that noise that escapes her. "No, it's-- it's fine. I /want/ to do what's best. It's just... well, honestly," she steps forward, crouching down so she's at their level where they sit, and her voice can soften. "It's more driving me crazy that I feel like, one way or another, I'm wasting time here. I could make jewelry, but I could make jewelry anywhere! Do I sound crazy? No, nevermind. This isn't your problem."
Looking across a Madilla curiously for that abortive sentence, Milani only smiles and then looks down at the 'knitting'. "Oh shaffit. This just has to get started over and keeps on ripping back more. But her expression shades sympathetic for Saliqa. "Well, would it help to have a job here? Would it feel like less of a waste? Or do you not want to risk that if you get pulled back home?" Pragmatic, Milani.
And because there aren't already enough questions being thrown at Saliqa, Madilla asks, "Do you want to go home, then? Go home, and-- get married?" From most people, that would probably come across dismissively, but not Madilla: /her/ voice is full of understanding, and perhaps the faintest hint of longing. To Milani, as an aside, she adds, encouragingly, "I'm sure you'll get the hang of it eventually." If she noticed that curious glance from the Headwoman, she makes no sign of it.
Saliqa's hands pop up, steepled in front of her face to hide at least a portion of her reactions as she debates. The squaring of her shoulders means she's at least trying to be somewhat 'correct'; it's the posture of someone delivering a speech. "I..." Wait, no. Start again. Ahem: "If asked, I would go." She pauses, feels this one out. "I would like the security that came with marriage... /but/... if I had a job here, I think I would be able to make a point to my parents that it is productive to remain... until they have made their own decision." This doesn't seem to directly answer either, but makes her content enough.
Briefly, Madilla gets her turn for a sympathetic glance, though Milani's still occupied with ripping back, little clumps of crunkled yarn piling up alongside her vacant and abandoned needle. "Oh I will. Eventually. Or not. I might have to stick to learning to actually quilt, not just mend my torn things." Breath out. "Well, if you'd like to make that kind of a point, what kind of work would you like to do here? Seeing as I'm usually a good person to talk to about that kind of thing." Brisk, but friendly.
"I'd be more help with quilting than knitting," says Madilla, softly, and again, only as an aside, because most of her attention focuses upon Saliqa. Not that any of this has stopped the steady work of her hands, sending needle in and out to form careful stitches. "I understand," is her murmured response to the woman from Crom, a sentiment matched in her sympathetic gaze.
Saliqa gives the thought of work some good time, and plenty of wrinkles in her forehead, but it all relaxes with a defeated shrug. "Well, I don't know that either. I've done every chore up and down here, but those just felt like... well, like chores. All I've ever really done professionally is make pretty items and give people advice." Even though she's weary over this, she still inflects some pride into those selected skills of hers. But there's a hand to wave it all away. "I can't bother you with that, Milani. What were you two talking about before I came over?" Absently, she reaches over and takes up some of the Headwoman's undone yarn to get it into a more workable pile.
"That would be fun," Milani tells Madilla with a smile and then shoots Saliqa a /look/. "You absolutely can bother me with it. It's a part of my duties as headwoman and if someone needs settling in a job, then it's something we should be talking about." Breath out. "I was bemoaning the state of my knitting," she does provide however.
With a teasing little smile, Madilla remarks, "I think you'd /better/ bother her with it now, Saliqa; I don't think she'll take no for an answer! Have you still been managing to make more jewellery?" She turns the patches of fabric in her lap, adjusting the pins holding them together slightly before her needle resumes its progress across the seams. "We really weren't talking of anything important," she agrees. "And Milani? Any time you want to learn…"
"Alright, alright!" Saliqa waves her hands in pacification for that /look/. She settles down afterwards into a more comfortable seated position, slipping Milani's untangled yarn back where she found it. "It isn't so bad. What were you doing here.... basic stitches? Purling?" She notes the Headwoman's needles, sparing a glance over to Madilla next. "I haven't, I admit. It's been sort of..." Her hands whirl about near her head, "Lately... I feel like I never know what to do with myself anymore. Be easier if we could just tell /other/ people what to do all the time, don't you think?"
Milani gets the rows ripped out enough and eyes the kinky yarn with a little frown. Probably trying to figure out if it's still usable, she plucks up a strand and pulls on both ends until it's straight, then lets go. Sproing. Back to kinky. "Hmm? Oh, definitely. If I can't get a clean set of rows on this in the next few days, you should show me how to put together a reallly basic quilt." Blue-green eyes lift up to Saliqa expectantly at 'alright'. "A ribbed dishcloth," Milani explains the knitting 'project' and then lifts both brows at Saliqa. "For some things yes, for others, no."
Madilla's cheeks are faintly pink as she admits, "I'd rather people tell /me/ what to do; it's easier than having to work things out for yourself." She pauses, then, even her fingers stopping their work, before adding, "Though I suppose I'm getting better at telling the apprentices what to do. I suppose it's all about what I'm comfortable with. You /should/ start working on it again, though, Saliqa. It's a shame not to." She begins to sew again after that, bobbing her head quickly in Milani's direction: it's a promise, apparently.
Saliqa gives a bit of a nod for the explanation of the project, leaving her watching Milani enough to catch those eyebrows she's getting. "I mean," she clarifies quickly, "For jobs and all. Not in their lives. Not trying to be really nosy of interfering or anything... not like that." Clearing her throat a bit to stop from rambling, she graces Madilla with her first bright smile. "It really is, isn't it? I think I just need to find inspiration again... or -- or kick myself to just shape up and do it anyway. Thank you. And, so, how is your quilt going?"
"I"m not sure I can go back to being told what to do," Milani admits with a little wry grin. "I don't think it'd go over too well." She starts winding up the kinky stuff back into the ball with the rest of the yarn and listens to Saliqa for a moment or two, nods. "Well. If you think of something, let me know. We still have some openings for help in stores, nannies, kitchen work and records."
"I spent most of my apprenticeship terrified of being a Journeyman, because then I wouldn't have people telling me what to do all the time, and checking my work," says Madilla, bashfully. "I suppose that's just… people want different things." She accepts Saliqa's rambling response with a nod, then adds, "It can be difficult, picking something up when you've stopped. This one's a new quilt. A /commission/." She looks proud of that. "So far, I think it's going quite well… but it's a simple pattern, this one, nothing too complicated and new."
Saliqa contemplates each of these options, but nothing in the little facial-twitch reactions suggests anything is really getting her excited. She knows as much, because her hands ball in frustration, though she is smiling again soon enough. "Oooh, a commission. Quite nice. I'm afraid I didn't even notice it was different, how silly of me. Congratulations on the work. Now, if you two will excuse me... maybe I'll go think on this job thing. Somewhere I won't ruin the carpet." Grinning a bit at her own expense, she gets to her feet.
"A commission? Really? Oh Madilla, that's /exciting/," Milani glees audibly and starts trying for ribbing again rather than bungle. Saliqa's remark draws a brief look and then a nod. "Take your time, and if you'd like to talk about it further in private, come by my office. Or we can have tea ... I think three days from now, afternoon I'm free."
Looking shy again, Madilla says, "Thank you. I'm-- pleased." Which is pretty obvious already, by the way she's beaming. "Good luck with it all, Saliqa. I hope things… work out." Despite her beam, the glance she casts at the other woman holds some amount of concern. It doesn't stop her from turning back to Milani eventually, though, to go back to that earlier subject: "It's for one of the weyrlings. I know her mother, and… It feels good."
"See you soon," Milani sends after Saliqa, maybe assuming a little there and frowns at the needles again, counting assiduously under her breath. "Oh? THat's really nice. So a sort of congratulations present?" About the quilt commission.
Madilla secures her needle in the patch she's working on, pausing to remove the pins that are no longer needed to hold it all together. "A weyrwarming present, I think," she explains. "Since it will probably take me a little bit of time to get it finished. It can be so strange for people, moving into their own space for the first time, after sharing forever. So… it seems like a nice idea, I think."
"Oh definitely, a nice quilt can be like bringing a piece of home in with you. SHells, when I moved, I brought my blankie with me," Milani says with a little laugh and drops a stitch. Sighs. "Argh!" Picks it back up again with her tongue sticking out again at the effort. "What kind of pattern will this one have?"
"Things from home," agrees Madilla, firmly. "I keep thinking that when making quilts for specific people, I should make patches out of the old clothes of people around them… you know, so you can look at a piece of it and say 'that's my mother's old dress'. But…" It doesn't happen. Probably for various reasons. "This one's a puzzle pattern… I'm not entirely sure why it's called that." She lifts the piece she's working on to show it, a square filled with triangles of various sizes and colours. "Am I distracting you too much?"
"That's a really good idea," Milani agrees. "Shells, my mother would probably love that and want to help with making one for each of her babies, even if we're not babies anymore," the headwoman adds with a laugh and looks over at the patch. "Oh wow! Maybe because you have to puzzle all the bits together?" And she eyes the knitting. "Well. Hm. Maybe. But you know what, I think I'd rather talk to you thatn futz with this any more today." And she sets the ball of yarn and needles down. "I might just have to resign myself to the lack of domestic bone in my body."
"Lack of handcrafting bones, maybe," says Madilla after a moment. "But I think a lot of what you do-- the /coordination/ is domestic, too, in a different way." She sets the patch back down again, smoothing it beneath her fingers and giving it an appraising glance. "Maybe. A lot of the quilt designs have strange names, it seems. It's nice to have a name to call them, though, not just, you know, the one with all the blocks. I might have to try doing something with fabric from people, sometime. When it's someone I know well enough to be able to collect for, I suppose." Beat. "How are you, Milani? And Milandra?"
"Oh well, I guess so and ... hm. My brothers and sisters must've gotten all the handy," Milani agrees with a laugh and props her chin on her hands. "They sound ... quaint. The ones you've told me. Quilting just seems like one of those really homey things to do all around." Her head tilts more to one side than the other, cheek matching the curve of her palm. "I'm really good actually. I might be a little crazy come fall though when the tithes come in. Milandra's ... she's just great. She's starting to crawl and get into things and she's getting teeth!"
Madilla looks amused, and nods, firmly, probably in response to that first comment of Milani's. After that, she busies herself putting away that first patch, and reaching for a second: this one, apparently, just needs an edging of cord sewn to it, and is otherwise plain. "It is," she agrees, of quilting. "I like that it can be so decorative, /and/ so useful. I know back home, the women used to trade patterns a lot, and I like that, too: it can be social." Looking pleased, she adds, "I'm glad to hear it, anyway, about the both of you. She must be getting /huge/. It's hard to believe how much time has passed already."
"Arty and functional all in one," Milani says agreeably. "It appeals to my practical side and the fun side." The headwoman's head bobs up and down about Milandra. "Oh she's due for another check up. She's such a big girl now ... you know she'll be a turn in just four months? Not even?"
"Mine, too," says Madilla, firmly. "I'm not sure I /could/ take up a hobby that didn't… produce something useful, I suppose. I think I'd end up feeling too guilty." Which gives her a wry smile; she's aware of how that sounds. As her needle works, she adds, "Is it really? No-- no, of course it is. Shells. I wouldn't have thought it that long at all. Anyway: I look forward to her coming in for that checkup."
"Ohh I wouldn't feel guilty, I just like the efficiency of it I guess. That something can be pretty and decorate a place but still be about keeping you warm," Milani points out and then beams. "She's so cute, Madilla. I mean sometimes it's tough, definitely, but all those little moments, they make it worth it."
Madilla's cheeks turn pink, though perhaps less with embarrassment this time, as Milani speaks about her daughter. "I'm sure they do," she agrees, fervently, managing both not to sound /too/ longing, and, somehow, to sound all the more so because of the lack of that so-often-present emotion. "She's beautiful. You're very lucky."
The headwoman's hands drop and slide across the table reaching for Madilla's. "I am," she agrees. "I hope you'll be lucky someday, Dilly," Milani says fondly, maybe not realizing she's dropped that nickname out there.
Madilla lets her hand be taken, even shifting her fingers so that she can squeeze Milani's hand in return, as she nods. "I'm sure I will be," she says, with a smile that could almost be described as certain. "I know it." She barely seems to have registered the nickname; certainly, there's no reaction to it.
That answer draws a bright smile from MIlani. "Wait ... have you found a guy?" And there she looks really hopeful, like she really wants to hear good news for her friend on that score.
Madilla turns pink enough that it must look like the answer is in the affirmative, but she shakes her head, no. "Not-- no. But we'll see." But there's something distinctly secretive about her expression, and the excitement that she's not quite managing to hide.
Milani's head tilts to the side then and her gaze remains fixed on Madilla's face for a moment or two, thoughtful, but then she squeezes the healer's hand again. "Okay," she says simply.
By the time she speaks again, Madilla's expression is more controlled. She returns the hand squeeze, then draws her hand back, promising quietly, "If there's anything to tell, I promise, I'll tell you. As soon as I can."
Milani nods just once and folds her hands over each other, leaning on the table. "Okay," she says again, then looks down at her abandoned knitting. "I should go put this away. And go get Milandra. If you've got some time, would you like to have supper with us?"
If anything, Madilla looks relieved - and maybe a little guilty - that her explanation has been accepted so readily. It doesn't last, though: she looks positively, and genuinely, delighted by the invitation. "I'd like that very much," she tells her friend, firmly. "I'll go put my things away, then."
"Great!" Milani looks sincerely pleased and starts to collect her things too. "Come over when you're ready. Shouldn't be more than fifteen minutes or so."
"I'll be there," promises Madilla, putting her supplies back into that little cloth bag of hers, and scooping it up as she stands. "Thank you." And then-- back off to her room she goes.
"See you soon, Madilla," Milani says gaily and heads off to pick up her daughter and get some things set out at home in preparation for the healer's arrival. Dinner is simple, but arguably, it's more about the company than the food and 8-9 month old babies are total charmers.
And Madilla? Madilla is /easily/ charmed. So a good time is had by all.
When: Afternoon, day 15, month 5, turn 22 of the 10th interval
Where: Commons, High Reaches Weyr
What: Crafty downtime turns into girly catch up time around a table in the commons.
Log stolen from Madilla!
Resident Common Room, High Reaches Weyr
Just off of the main passageway lies the small cavern that forms the hub of the residents' quarters, kept immaculately clean by the headwoman's staff and warmed in cold weather by a stone hearth to the left and well back from the entrance. Comfortable chairs and a plush fur arrayed before the hearth make an inviting spot to curl up with a book or handicraft, or just to sit and chat. Beyond, additional chairs stand in clusters throughout the room, some upholstered with age-softened hide, some plain wood. At the widest point of the cavern, a round table gleams with polish, though its surface is nicked and scarred from Turns of use. Beyond the table, the very back of the cavern often lies in shadow unless the glowbaskets there are unlidded to cast cozy pools of light. The commingled scents of klah, smoke and polish permeate the air along with the sweetness of rosemary and lavender.
Tapestries hang across the entrances to dormitories and more private quarters as well as the exit to the outer hall, colorful protections from drafts.
The fog that clings to the bowl has driven many indoors today and the common room has its fair share of occupants. Among them is Milani, who appears to either be on a break, or taking a little down time, though some might not call learning to knit 'down' time. The headwoman's tongue is stuck out between her lips and off to one side as she handles the needles in a hopelessly awkward manner, chanting beneath her breath: "Knit two ... purl one ... no wait ... is it the other way around? Argh. Purl two ... knit one ..."
Madilla's damp hair and pink-cheeked face suggests she's not long out of the baths, though she emerges, now, from her own room, carrying with her the little cloth bag that contains all her quilting supplies. The healer slips between chairs and past the table towards a free seat spotted from across the room, one that just so happens to be not far from the Headwoman. Amusement shades her expression as, having seated herself, she glances up to watch Milani. Then; "It looks as though you're as good at that as I am." Which is to say… not very!
This isn't Saliqa's first time past the common room; in fact, she's been a standard for several minutes now. What she's doing seems to be an elongated version of pacing because she'll stroll through the edge of the room and disappear down the caverns and then, some time later, appear again at that cavern and walk the other way into the resident quarters. Her path only diverts when some other person or another is also trying to walk and the girl finds herself in the way, but she doesn't always appear to notice anyway.
Needles lower and Milani blows out a frustrated breath. "ANd I thought my /sewing/ was bad," she confides to Madilla-across-the-way. "At least I can stitch up my hems properly now, thanks to you," she adds with a little laugh and holds up the hopeless bungle that is the knitting she's been assaying. "I don't think this is ever going to remotely resemble the dishcloth it's supposed to be." She puffs out another breath and looks up as Saliqa does another pacing circuit and regards the Cromite for a moment. "Saliqa ... do you know how to knit?" she pitches her voice to be heard.
As she gets out her own handcraft supplies, Madilla gives the knitting an appraising glance, and shakes her head ruefully; no hope for it at all, her expression says. Any answer she might have intended to make is forestalled as her companion calls across to Saliqa; she twists her body to get a glance at the older girl, smiling in greeting, though her brows furrow at that pacing walk, too. "So perhaps that part of our education was deficient for all of us? My mother did /try/..." And failed, apparently.
Saliqa's head perks at the sound of her own name -- a bit surprisingly, perhaps, considering how into it she seemed to be. But she glances about as though she expected this summons, and then her eyebrows pull for the revelation that it's coming from Milani. Sparing a few more gazes for the room on a whole, she takes a few hesitant then more confident steps towards the two girls. "A bit, yes. What I'm, uh, required to. I think you're supposed to go counterclockwise with that next one, ma'am."
"So did my mother," Milani tells Madilla with a laugh. "She ... let it go pretty quickly too. Poor Mum, none of her children carried on with her weaverish tendencies, we all seem to've taken after our fathers instead." Her needles kind of go 'clicky clicky' and she smiles at Saliqa. "Counterclockwise? Huh." ANd she's furrowing brows at the knitting, still puzzled. "How've you been by the way? I'm a little bit afraid for the carpet right now - could wind up with a path worn through it," she teases a little, voice friendly.
"I think my mother would be pleased with my quilting," says Madilla, sounding thoughtful. "Though I suppose the rest of my sisters are proficient at all parts of household maintenance, now, so she'd having nothing to be ashamed of with them." Just Madilla, maybe. She's turned herself back around, now that Saliqa is approaching, but her gaze returns to the other girl, now, and she adds, "You do look… distracted. Is everything well?"
"It's fine," is the immediate answer from Saliqa, folding her hands in front of her to keep from fidgeting now that she can't pace. "Sorry, I -- didn't realize I was bothering anyone with it... I just don't wait well." A pinched smile, then she gestures with her combined hands to the projects both women hold. "What is this you've got going on, then? For hobby, or?" Raising her chin, she sort of eyes down at Milani's handiwork. "... Learning?"
"You do /lovely/ quilting work," Milani enthuses to the healer. "And well, you're good at a lot of other things that are worth being proud of. It's not an easy thing to be a /good/ healer," she says firmly. Her head starts shaking though in disclaimer. "Oh no, it's not a bother, but ... what are you waiting for, Saliqa?" the headwoman asks curiously before eyeing her knitting dismally. "Learning," she confirms with a doleful edge to her tone and starts to rip out that row.
Madilla looks pleased with the compliment, smiling somewhat shyly at Milani in response, as she gives a quick nod: she'll accept all of that. Her attention is fairly rapidly returned to Saliqa after that, though, and if she doesn't ask the question herself, well, she seems to await the answer to it all the more readily despite that. Her remark is quiet; "I don't know where you find the time to try and learn such things, Milani, with everything in /your/ life. Good for you."
"Oh, you know, only the word that will affect the way I live my life-- yes, /what/ a noble endeavor, to pick up a new skill, what with all the exciting things I'm sure you must pay attention to as Headwoman." Saliqa plowing through her answer is definitely not suspicious, not at all. Actually, she looks quite natural as she gestures enthusiastically to the knitting and then bends in Madilla's direction. "And don't think I didn't hear any of that. Madilla, not only are you a good healer, but you've the bedside manner to put the rest of Pern to shame."
"Oh a girl has to take a little time off and do something that /isn't/ ledgers and so on sometimes," Milani claims with a laugh. "Buuut I think you can tell that it's been two weeks since I last tried to work on this," she notes, waving the little bit of bungled knitting around like it's a flag on a very long pole. "And Saliqa's absolutely right. Excellent bedside manner," the headwoman help heap more praise on Madilla then shoots the Cromite another curious look. "They haven't sent word yet? Or ... it's expected today?"
Madilla turns scarlet, noting, hurriedly, "I wasn't fishing for compliments… please don't think I was!" But she looks pleased, even outright proud, and has to duck her gaze to recover her composure enough to resume her part of the conversation. Smoothing the fabric in her lap, she says, finally, "I was thinking more-- not just your job, Milani, but a /baby/, and-- the rest!" Boyfriends and all. She bites at her lip as she turns her attention back to Saliqa, frowning as she says, "Oh-- they're going to be telling you whether you're to stay here or not?" Sympathy floods her expression: she's been there.
Smiling through the compliments and the talk about jobs, Saliqa can yet barely hide the vague grimace that neither of them has managed to float past the topic of /her/ problems. With a wandering gaze, she waffles briefly about answering. Then, a sigh. "There's been word. All kind of word, it turns out, back and forth. It was finalized the second the Hatching was over, except now it isn't. So. Here I am. Or maybe not."
"I have help with all of it," Milani points out sunnily. "I'm not exactly raising Milandra by myself. She's got oodles of family, especially doting grandparents and her father and well, now that she's older, it's not so much of a struggle with sleep," the headwoman adds thoughtfully, still ripping back yarn, though her fingers pause and brows lift. "Wait ... they're jerking you around?" she sums up a little bluntly.
"How…" Madilla begins a response, then trails off, shaking her head: that frown is in full force. "That's awful," she decides, firmly. "You'd think they'd have more compassion. To leave you hanging like that!" She'd probably 'tsk' if she weren't occupied with speaking; her expression certainly encourages that kind of response.
Two reactions war on Saliqa's face, between agreeing with them and defensiveness over her home. Her next sigh is more akin to a groan with that noise that escapes her. "No, it's-- it's fine. I /want/ to do what's best. It's just... well, honestly," she steps forward, crouching down so she's at their level where they sit, and her voice can soften. "It's more driving me crazy that I feel like, one way or another, I'm wasting time here. I could make jewelry, but I could make jewelry anywhere! Do I sound crazy? No, nevermind. This isn't your problem."
Looking across a Madilla curiously for that abortive sentence, Milani only smiles and then looks down at the 'knitting'. "Oh shaffit. This just has to get started over and keeps on ripping back more. But her expression shades sympathetic for Saliqa. "Well, would it help to have a job here? Would it feel like less of a waste? Or do you not want to risk that if you get pulled back home?" Pragmatic, Milani.
And because there aren't already enough questions being thrown at Saliqa, Madilla asks, "Do you want to go home, then? Go home, and-- get married?" From most people, that would probably come across dismissively, but not Madilla: /her/ voice is full of understanding, and perhaps the faintest hint of longing. To Milani, as an aside, she adds, encouragingly, "I'm sure you'll get the hang of it eventually." If she noticed that curious glance from the Headwoman, she makes no sign of it.
Saliqa's hands pop up, steepled in front of her face to hide at least a portion of her reactions as she debates. The squaring of her shoulders means she's at least trying to be somewhat 'correct'; it's the posture of someone delivering a speech. "I..." Wait, no. Start again. Ahem: "If asked, I would go." She pauses, feels this one out. "I would like the security that came with marriage... /but/... if I had a job here, I think I would be able to make a point to my parents that it is productive to remain... until they have made their own decision." This doesn't seem to directly answer either, but makes her content enough.
Briefly, Madilla gets her turn for a sympathetic glance, though Milani's still occupied with ripping back, little clumps of crunkled yarn piling up alongside her vacant and abandoned needle. "Oh I will. Eventually. Or not. I might have to stick to learning to actually quilt, not just mend my torn things." Breath out. "Well, if you'd like to make that kind of a point, what kind of work would you like to do here? Seeing as I'm usually a good person to talk to about that kind of thing." Brisk, but friendly.
"I'd be more help with quilting than knitting," says Madilla, softly, and again, only as an aside, because most of her attention focuses upon Saliqa. Not that any of this has stopped the steady work of her hands, sending needle in and out to form careful stitches. "I understand," is her murmured response to the woman from Crom, a sentiment matched in her sympathetic gaze.
Saliqa gives the thought of work some good time, and plenty of wrinkles in her forehead, but it all relaxes with a defeated shrug. "Well, I don't know that either. I've done every chore up and down here, but those just felt like... well, like chores. All I've ever really done professionally is make pretty items and give people advice." Even though she's weary over this, she still inflects some pride into those selected skills of hers. But there's a hand to wave it all away. "I can't bother you with that, Milani. What were you two talking about before I came over?" Absently, she reaches over and takes up some of the Headwoman's undone yarn to get it into a more workable pile.
"That would be fun," Milani tells Madilla with a smile and then shoots Saliqa a /look/. "You absolutely can bother me with it. It's a part of my duties as headwoman and if someone needs settling in a job, then it's something we should be talking about." Breath out. "I was bemoaning the state of my knitting," she does provide however.
With a teasing little smile, Madilla remarks, "I think you'd /better/ bother her with it now, Saliqa; I don't think she'll take no for an answer! Have you still been managing to make more jewellery?" She turns the patches of fabric in her lap, adjusting the pins holding them together slightly before her needle resumes its progress across the seams. "We really weren't talking of anything important," she agrees. "And Milani? Any time you want to learn…"
"Alright, alright!" Saliqa waves her hands in pacification for that /look/. She settles down afterwards into a more comfortable seated position, slipping Milani's untangled yarn back where she found it. "It isn't so bad. What were you doing here.... basic stitches? Purling?" She notes the Headwoman's needles, sparing a glance over to Madilla next. "I haven't, I admit. It's been sort of..." Her hands whirl about near her head, "Lately... I feel like I never know what to do with myself anymore. Be easier if we could just tell /other/ people what to do all the time, don't you think?"
Milani gets the rows ripped out enough and eyes the kinky yarn with a little frown. Probably trying to figure out if it's still usable, she plucks up a strand and pulls on both ends until it's straight, then lets go. Sproing. Back to kinky. "Hmm? Oh, definitely. If I can't get a clean set of rows on this in the next few days, you should show me how to put together a reallly basic quilt." Blue-green eyes lift up to Saliqa expectantly at 'alright'. "A ribbed dishcloth," Milani explains the knitting 'project' and then lifts both brows at Saliqa. "For some things yes, for others, no."
Madilla's cheeks are faintly pink as she admits, "I'd rather people tell /me/ what to do; it's easier than having to work things out for yourself." She pauses, then, even her fingers stopping their work, before adding, "Though I suppose I'm getting better at telling the apprentices what to do. I suppose it's all about what I'm comfortable with. You /should/ start working on it again, though, Saliqa. It's a shame not to." She begins to sew again after that, bobbing her head quickly in Milani's direction: it's a promise, apparently.
Saliqa gives a bit of a nod for the explanation of the project, leaving her watching Milani enough to catch those eyebrows she's getting. "I mean," she clarifies quickly, "For jobs and all. Not in their lives. Not trying to be really nosy of interfering or anything... not like that." Clearing her throat a bit to stop from rambling, she graces Madilla with her first bright smile. "It really is, isn't it? I think I just need to find inspiration again... or -- or kick myself to just shape up and do it anyway. Thank you. And, so, how is your quilt going?"
"I"m not sure I can go back to being told what to do," Milani admits with a little wry grin. "I don't think it'd go over too well." She starts winding up the kinky stuff back into the ball with the rest of the yarn and listens to Saliqa for a moment or two, nods. "Well. If you think of something, let me know. We still have some openings for help in stores, nannies, kitchen work and records."
"I spent most of my apprenticeship terrified of being a Journeyman, because then I wouldn't have people telling me what to do all the time, and checking my work," says Madilla, bashfully. "I suppose that's just… people want different things." She accepts Saliqa's rambling response with a nod, then adds, "It can be difficult, picking something up when you've stopped. This one's a new quilt. A /commission/." She looks proud of that. "So far, I think it's going quite well… but it's a simple pattern, this one, nothing too complicated and new."
Saliqa contemplates each of these options, but nothing in the little facial-twitch reactions suggests anything is really getting her excited. She knows as much, because her hands ball in frustration, though she is smiling again soon enough. "Oooh, a commission. Quite nice. I'm afraid I didn't even notice it was different, how silly of me. Congratulations on the work. Now, if you two will excuse me... maybe I'll go think on this job thing. Somewhere I won't ruin the carpet." Grinning a bit at her own expense, she gets to her feet.
"A commission? Really? Oh Madilla, that's /exciting/," Milani glees audibly and starts trying for ribbing again rather than bungle. Saliqa's remark draws a brief look and then a nod. "Take your time, and if you'd like to talk about it further in private, come by my office. Or we can have tea ... I think three days from now, afternoon I'm free."
Looking shy again, Madilla says, "Thank you. I'm-- pleased." Which is pretty obvious already, by the way she's beaming. "Good luck with it all, Saliqa. I hope things… work out." Despite her beam, the glance she casts at the other woman holds some amount of concern. It doesn't stop her from turning back to Milani eventually, though, to go back to that earlier subject: "It's for one of the weyrlings. I know her mother, and… It feels good."
"See you soon," Milani sends after Saliqa, maybe assuming a little there and frowns at the needles again, counting assiduously under her breath. "Oh? THat's really nice. So a sort of congratulations present?" About the quilt commission.
Madilla secures her needle in the patch she's working on, pausing to remove the pins that are no longer needed to hold it all together. "A weyrwarming present, I think," she explains. "Since it will probably take me a little bit of time to get it finished. It can be so strange for people, moving into their own space for the first time, after sharing forever. So… it seems like a nice idea, I think."
"Oh definitely, a nice quilt can be like bringing a piece of home in with you. SHells, when I moved, I brought my blankie with me," Milani says with a little laugh and drops a stitch. Sighs. "Argh!" Picks it back up again with her tongue sticking out again at the effort. "What kind of pattern will this one have?"
"Things from home," agrees Madilla, firmly. "I keep thinking that when making quilts for specific people, I should make patches out of the old clothes of people around them… you know, so you can look at a piece of it and say 'that's my mother's old dress'. But…" It doesn't happen. Probably for various reasons. "This one's a puzzle pattern… I'm not entirely sure why it's called that." She lifts the piece she's working on to show it, a square filled with triangles of various sizes and colours. "Am I distracting you too much?"
"That's a really good idea," Milani agrees. "Shells, my mother would probably love that and want to help with making one for each of her babies, even if we're not babies anymore," the headwoman adds with a laugh and looks over at the patch. "Oh wow! Maybe because you have to puzzle all the bits together?" And she eyes the knitting. "Well. Hm. Maybe. But you know what, I think I'd rather talk to you thatn futz with this any more today." And she sets the ball of yarn and needles down. "I might just have to resign myself to the lack of domestic bone in my body."
"Lack of handcrafting bones, maybe," says Madilla after a moment. "But I think a lot of what you do-- the /coordination/ is domestic, too, in a different way." She sets the patch back down again, smoothing it beneath her fingers and giving it an appraising glance. "Maybe. A lot of the quilt designs have strange names, it seems. It's nice to have a name to call them, though, not just, you know, the one with all the blocks. I might have to try doing something with fabric from people, sometime. When it's someone I know well enough to be able to collect for, I suppose." Beat. "How are you, Milani? And Milandra?"
"Oh well, I guess so and ... hm. My brothers and sisters must've gotten all the handy," Milani agrees with a laugh and props her chin on her hands. "They sound ... quaint. The ones you've told me. Quilting just seems like one of those really homey things to do all around." Her head tilts more to one side than the other, cheek matching the curve of her palm. "I'm really good actually. I might be a little crazy come fall though when the tithes come in. Milandra's ... she's just great. She's starting to crawl and get into things and she's getting teeth!"
Madilla looks amused, and nods, firmly, probably in response to that first comment of Milani's. After that, she busies herself putting away that first patch, and reaching for a second: this one, apparently, just needs an edging of cord sewn to it, and is otherwise plain. "It is," she agrees, of quilting. "I like that it can be so decorative, /and/ so useful. I know back home, the women used to trade patterns a lot, and I like that, too: it can be social." Looking pleased, she adds, "I'm glad to hear it, anyway, about the both of you. She must be getting /huge/. It's hard to believe how much time has passed already."
"Arty and functional all in one," Milani says agreeably. "It appeals to my practical side and the fun side." The headwoman's head bobs up and down about Milandra. "Oh she's due for another check up. She's such a big girl now ... you know she'll be a turn in just four months? Not even?"
"Mine, too," says Madilla, firmly. "I'm not sure I /could/ take up a hobby that didn't… produce something useful, I suppose. I think I'd end up feeling too guilty." Which gives her a wry smile; she's aware of how that sounds. As her needle works, she adds, "Is it really? No-- no, of course it is. Shells. I wouldn't have thought it that long at all. Anyway: I look forward to her coming in for that checkup."
"Ohh I wouldn't feel guilty, I just like the efficiency of it I guess. That something can be pretty and decorate a place but still be about keeping you warm," Milani points out and then beams. "She's so cute, Madilla. I mean sometimes it's tough, definitely, but all those little moments, they make it worth it."
Madilla's cheeks turn pink, though perhaps less with embarrassment this time, as Milani speaks about her daughter. "I'm sure they do," she agrees, fervently, managing both not to sound /too/ longing, and, somehow, to sound all the more so because of the lack of that so-often-present emotion. "She's beautiful. You're very lucky."
The headwoman's hands drop and slide across the table reaching for Madilla's. "I am," she agrees. "I hope you'll be lucky someday, Dilly," Milani says fondly, maybe not realizing she's dropped that nickname out there.
Madilla lets her hand be taken, even shifting her fingers so that she can squeeze Milani's hand in return, as she nods. "I'm sure I will be," she says, with a smile that could almost be described as certain. "I know it." She barely seems to have registered the nickname; certainly, there's no reaction to it.
That answer draws a bright smile from MIlani. "Wait ... have you found a guy?" And there she looks really hopeful, like she really wants to hear good news for her friend on that score.
Madilla turns pink enough that it must look like the answer is in the affirmative, but she shakes her head, no. "Not-- no. But we'll see." But there's something distinctly secretive about her expression, and the excitement that she's not quite managing to hide.
Milani's head tilts to the side then and her gaze remains fixed on Madilla's face for a moment or two, thoughtful, but then she squeezes the healer's hand again. "Okay," she says simply.
By the time she speaks again, Madilla's expression is more controlled. She returns the hand squeeze, then draws her hand back, promising quietly, "If there's anything to tell, I promise, I'll tell you. As soon as I can."
Milani nods just once and folds her hands over each other, leaning on the table. "Okay," she says again, then looks down at her abandoned knitting. "I should go put this away. And go get Milandra. If you've got some time, would you like to have supper with us?"
If anything, Madilla looks relieved - and maybe a little guilty - that her explanation has been accepted so readily. It doesn't last, though: she looks positively, and genuinely, delighted by the invitation. "I'd like that very much," she tells her friend, firmly. "I'll go put my things away, then."
"Great!" Milani looks sincerely pleased and starts to collect her things too. "Come over when you're ready. Shouldn't be more than fifteen minutes or so."
"I'll be there," promises Madilla, putting her supplies back into that little cloth bag of hers, and scooping it up as she stands. "Thank you." And then-- back off to her room she goes.
"See you soon, Madilla," Milani says gaily and heads off to pick up her daughter and get some things set out at home in preparation for the healer's arrival. Dinner is simple, but arguably, it's more about the company than the food and 8-9 month old babies are total charmers.
And Madilla? Madilla is /easily/ charmed. So a good time is had by all.