A Nice, Relaxing Meal
Location: North Weyr
Time: Evening on Day 9, Month 2, Turn 3
Players: Roa, Lorna, and Tialith
Scene: Lorna comes for dinner. This is usual. Ashwin is not there. This is unusual. The conversation strays to various people, but also to Lorna's home and a certain bluerider that resides there. This is sacrilege.
It is dinner time, Lorna is expected and the table has been set. Only, tonight it has only been set for two. A bout of a vicious stomach virus has several of the guards down and out, and the Lieutenant has had to take an evening shift to compensate for the diminished men. The serving plates on the table hold fruit, greens, fish and a sort of berry drenched in syrup for dessert.
Roa is seated not near the arranged table, but on Tialith's couch. The slightly gravid queen has one foreleg extended, and the weyrwoman silently applies oil to the top of her paw.
There is no knock to warn of Lorna's appearance, though she makes some noise as she opens the door and steps inside, closing it with a little thump behind her. A smile for Tialith as she sees the goldrider's ministrations, and then her eyes cast over toward the table set for two. A little sigh, soundless but visible in her expression -- perhaps she had forgotten that Ashwin would not be there tonight. "It is so much quieter here than across the bowl in the living caverns," Lorna murmurs as she crosses over toward the queen's couch, settling on its edge near the wall so that she can lean against it, head tilted up to look at the gold. Her eyes close for a moment as she inhales the familiar scent of dragon hide and oil, letting a bit of a smile linger there.
Dark blue and whirling eyes orient on Lorna as she arrives, and while Roa doesn't yet turn around, her own head lifts a fraction. As the younger girl settles on her couch, the gold lowers her head with a faint rumble, settling it on the stone near enough to Lorna to be quite accessible. Roa rubs in the last glop of oil and then reaches for a rag to wipe her hands clean. "There's fewer people," she notes with a faint chuckle. "He sends his apologies, by the way, and says that in honor of the checkers game he would have lost anyhow, he'll fetch you for breakfast tomorrow morning."
The head resting on the stone may not be blue or brown, but Lorna's comfortable enough to move a little closer and give Tialith's eyeridges a soft caress. "He has won a few times," she says, truthfully, but she is smiling nonetheless. "Mostly while he was teaching me how to play." She shifts her gaze to Roa, with a quirk of her lips. "Breakfast is much nicer when there is no need to battle the endless residents of this place to get it."
Tialith's eye lids as she gets herself some scritches. Her rider bends down to cork the jar of oil and push it up against the stone couch to wait for the next time it's needed. "I am sensing a distinct theme in your comments tonight, Lorna."
Lorna's hand pauses against Tialith's hide, just for a moment, and then resumes its task. "It was only a longer day than others have been," she says, simply, her attention full on the dragon now. "You look well today." This is, apparently, for the gold.
The grumble, this time, is perhaps just slightly discontented if one knows what to listen for. But as the scritching continues, whatever displeasure was there fades away quickly enough. Roa finally lifts her gaze to look over at Lorna, her head canting a little to the side. "What made today longer?"
"I was trying to avoid that inevitable question," Lorna says softly, looking up again. This time she does not stop, but continues the motion of her hand, responsive to whatever might have been in that rumble. "I believe that, at least, is a universal concept." It's quite possibly the closest Lorna comes to sounding annoyed, and perhaps she hears it in her own voice because she retreats behind that vague stare of hers and quirks a smile. "I am not sure encountering so many strangers will ever be easy. What was your day like?" She doesn't even bother to hide the change of subject.
"I suppose it is," Roa agrees, "but so is persistent curiosity. My day was also long. I made a trip outweyr and balanced some of the ledgers for the month. Lunch in the living cavern. But speaking of food, shall we?" There is a small chinjerk towards the set table and the cooling food.
Persistent curiosity. That choice of phrasing earns Roa a quick smile, before Lorna returns her attention to Tialith, giving the gold a last fond caress before turning and getting to her feet. "That is one advantage to his not being here," she says, surveying the table. "Only fish and vegetables for us." No meat, in other words. Lorna crosses to what has quickly become her chair, to sink down onto it.
The weyrwoman follows after, taking up a plate, fruit, vegetables, and a piece of said fish. "Well, he mostly tucks it away all on his own, anyhow," she chuckles as she sits. Manners are a bit sloppier when the Lieutenant is not there to set an impeccable example. "I'm sorry it's so hard," she says softly, after a stretch of quiet.
"But this way, there is nothing even to see or smell," she notes cheerfully. Apparently, Lorna is a vegetarian -- or, at least, a fish-etarian -- through and through. Once Roa has gotten her plate, Lorna leans forward to retrieve her own share of the vegetables, taking only as much fish as she ever does, enough for the minimum protein she needs. She's in the act of setting her plate down again when Roa's apology comes, and though she doesn't look up, she pauses for a moment. Then the plate is set down and she pushes her hair back from her face as she replies, "Not anywhere near as hard as it might be. I am only sorry you have had another invade your--" She hesitates, perhaps uncharacteristically. "You did not have to share him, before." Then she does look up, eyes moving from her plate to the goldrider. "It was my decision to come." Even if it was a decision hastily made and later regretted.
The weyrwoman makes a faint sound and waves away the apology in regards to sharing Ashwin. "It's good for him, having your company," she explains, "in a couple of ways, I think." She looks down to her plate, picking up the fork to nudge her fare around without actually eating any of it, yet. "Does it make it easier?" she queries of Lorna's choice, "Knowing that?"
"He knows I am safe here, at least," Lorna agrees. "I know he thought I wouldn't be, there. It is very important to him. Once he has decided to bring a person in, there is no getting them out again." Her fingers curl around her fork as she watches the goldrider. Not quite one to avoid eye contact, she instead stares for a while in silence with Roa's question hanging in the air. Her eventual response is simple enough, but offers no explanation. "No."
"I think they could get out again," Roa considers, "but I expect they'd have to try fairly hard at it. He's a determined sort." A bit of green is speared and eaten. "I wouldn't have thought so," she notes for Lorna's simple response.
He is, at that," Lorna says, some warmth in her voice as she speaks. Her dinner holds little interest for her now, though occasionally she lowers her eyes to stare at it, as though it might provide her with some sort of answer or encouragement. She lets the silence stretch while Roa eats, her attention only half-there. Eventually the vacancy of her gaze shifts and she says, almost blurts, "I miss--" But it's an outburst that she controls, if somewhat after the fact. Instead she stands, reaching for her glass to fill it with juice.
Her brows raise and for a moment, Roa seems inclined to ask. But instead she looks back down at her own neglected plate, offering instead, "Tell me about your boat." That Lorna had one, and liked having one is one of the few island tidbits Roa has gleaned over the months of dinners and talks they have had.
Lorna is quiet for a while, finally picking up her own fork to make a dent on her plate. "It was not a very good one," she says, lightly. "There were no shipbuilders among those who were exiled." A bite of food, chewed and swallowed, and followed by a sip of her juice. "Ashwin was making it better when he left." Quiet again, and more juice, and then thoughtfully, "I wonder if Padi uses it now that I am gone. I would hope so."
"Padi...Padi..." Roa squints faintly as she thinks. "Padian," she notes finally with a small nod. "He likes sailing too?" Nudge nudge goes the fork, catching bits of fruit around the plate. "How old were you, when you finally got good at climbing trees?"
Lorna flashes that fleeting smile, nodding. "Padian," she confirms. "He and Laemont were my best friends there." And two more different friends would be harder to find. The smile lingers as she makes the subtle correction, "He likes the sea. I was a bit abnormal, I think, in how much I liked to just be out in my boat." The last question earns a genuine laugh, and she looks up to fix pale eyes warmed by humor on the other woman. "Not so much older than when I first tried it. I have heard that story so many times I almost remember it myself. I only really remember..." She trails into silence, thoughtfulness expressed in the vacancy of her look again as she scoops up another mouthful onto her fork.
The second break in as many minutes, and this one a bit more clear to the little goldrider. She too drops her gaze and spends a little time simply eating more of her dinner. She does not, as is her usual wont, attempt to inspire any more conversation.
Lorna is content in that silence, or at least gives the appearance of it for a good long while. The forkful never quite makes it to her mouth though, and if someone were watching they might detect the faint quiver of her lips now and then as she considers, and discards, things that end up unsaid. Eventually she lowers her fork again, and raises her eyes. "You could have said something to him," she says, softly. "Anything."
Roa's own fork lowers too quickly, and the *klink* of metal on ceramic, a sound that would have been easily lost in the ebb and flow of the living cavern, is startlingly loud in the quiet weyr. The weyrwoman studies her plate with a singular sort of focus. "I had nothing to say."
Lorna doesn't jump at the sound, though she does glance away from Roa's face to her fork for a moment. Just a moment spared from her stare, and then it's back again. She's quiet for a time, perhaps thinking or perhaps debating whether or not to press the issue. Perhaps she's merely considering whether she ought to have taken more fish. After a while, her head tilts a little and she says, "Like shells you didn't." Quite calm, her voice, even using such language as she -never- uses. A pause, and then she brings that forkful up to her mouth again, chewing and swallowing the fish. Then, very quietly, "Even if you had nothing to say, could you not see how badly he has wanted you to say it?" Lorna may not have been present at the sudden confrontation of Roa and her father, but she had lived with the man for over a decade. As ever, she does not take the hint and leave it alone.
One of those slow and careful breaths that Roa has learned from the Lieutenant is drawn in through her nose and slowly out of her mouth. Her own plate is examined for a minute longer before she looks up to calmly meet the other girl's champagne gaze. "Have you spoken with Neiran at all since you first met?"
Lorna watches her efforts at controlling herself with a sort of cool detachment, though if Roa were not staring so hard at her own plate she might see the signs that Lorna is trying to control herself, as well. The question barely registers, bringing not even a moment's hesitation. "He is a good man. And some day you will wish that you said the things you didn't." There is no judgment in her tone, despite her words, only that warm softness that makes no attempt to hide her regard for the bluerider. After a few moments, she bends her head to look at her plate again, pulling another piece of her fish apart and half-raising it to her mouth. "I did. He came in while I was having a drink with Sefton, and the three of us had a conversation for a time." Probably the first such conversation outside of Roa, Ashwin, and Aida since Lorna arrived.
Her expression is carefully blank as Lorna continues to discuss one of the few things that Roa refuses to speak on. At the mention of Neiran, and even at the mention of Sefton, her shoulders relax. "You met the Headmaster?" she asks, forcing up a small smile. "What did you and he and Neiran speak on? What did you think of him?"
As if she had never forced the issue, never so much as mentioned it, Lorna glances up with a smile. "I met him," she confirms. "Twice now. I was in the kitchens when they were looking for someone to bring him his dinner, and I had heard so much about him. I thought I would go see what everyone was so interested in." Persistent curiosity. She picks up her glass to drink some of her juice before continuing. "I like him. Though I am afraid he may think I am a little too intriguing. He had me stay so that he could ask questions. Ashwin would wince."
Roa allows her smile to grow a bit. "Ahh. But Ashwin is not here. If Sefton invited you back, then it is quite certain he is interested in you. And that could be problematic, as if you spend any great deal of time with him, he will realize you're not from Ista. But we...he knows you are mine and Ashwin's?" If it's an odd way of putting it, the weyrwoman seems unaware.
Lorna tilts her head a little, considering the question and perhaps its implications. Eventually, she replies, "He knows. He has not quite decided what to do with me yet, but he likes me. Enough that he would defend me just a little against his student, though perhaps it is just curiosity that prompts him to keep me coming back." She pauses, and then smiles again, this time felt enough to warm her cheeks a little. "Though I get the feeling he is often clashing a little with Neiran." Or vice versa, but she keeps that particular observation to herself.
"I get that feeling too. Sefton...enjoys clashing with others. He enjoys the game. But, if he knows you're tied to me, then you're safe enough. Just...be a little bit careful." Roa shakes her head, eyes rolling. "He entertains himself with other people."
"Other people are often very entertaining," remarks Lorna mildly, taking another mouthful of fish. Once she's finished swallowing, She sets her fork down for a little while. "He does not know where Ashwin and Jensen were, does he?" She reaches for her juice, but does not drink yet. "I have found that most people, when they meet me, just assume I am a little strange. What reason would they have to suspect that I am a girl raised almost entirely by condemned criminals on an island that no one likes to even think about? There are plenty of people wandering the place who are just a little strange." She pauses to take her drink of juice, and then adds, in a deadpan worthy of Ashwin himself, "I believe Neiran is a case in point."
Roa laughs. "Perhaps he is, and certainly, no one suspects Neiran of being raised on an island of criminals." Her smile softens a little as she corrects, "I have not told Sefton where Ashwin and Jensen were, but to say he does not know is never a wise thing to presume about the Headmaster. I am overdue to pay him a visit anyhow, so we'll see what he knows and what he ought to know."
"I imagine there is very little that is safe to presume about him," replies Lorna. Silence for a while as she continues her dinner, and for a moment it seems she's finished with the subject of the Headmaster. But then she pauses, resting her fork against her plate, and looks up again. "He told me he used to live somewhere not so different from my island. I looked it up on my geography map. He says he misses it, and he looked like he meant that more than anything else he said that night." The forkful of food is upended, and Lorna pushes the last of her fish around her plate as she considers this. "It's puzzling why anyone would stay here if they had somewhere else to be that they loved so much. He is not the only one of us with questions."
"Southern Boll," the weyrwoman says quietly, "is where he's from. It is warm there all of the time, and very green. And there is the ocean. In those ways, it might remind you of...of home. But in other ways it is a part of the mainland. There is a Hold there and a Hall and very many people. And nearly all of them look like Sefton," she finishes with a soft laugh. "I think he stays because as much as he misses his home, there are things he wants even more. And he works towards them by staying here."
Lorna listens to Roa's description of the place, a bit of a smile curving her mouth. "They all look like him?" she asks, perhaps a little taken aback by the idea of a beach full of Seftons. "Are they all so aware of it as he is?" But she has nothing else to say on the subject of his arrogance and security in his charming grin and tousled hair, instead speaking in a softer voice, "You... Sefton... J'lor. Everyone has such big plans for the world. You all want such changes for it." Unspoken, but palpable nonetheless, is that this small piece of said world only wishes to go home -- but Lorna has never much been interested in change. "It makes me wonder how much the world cares what anyone wants."
Are they all so aware of it? "They are not for the most part, thank Faranth," Roa says, but the smirk on her lips dims with the rest of Lorna's words. "Everybody wants something, Lorna. I think it is the duty of those who want greater things to make sure that those who want smaller things are not held back from their own dreams. Whatever that means."
The last few pieces of vegetable left on Lorna's plate have been abandoned, her fork long since left at the side of her dish. She tilts her head at Roa, fixing her with one of those blankly thoughtful gazes. "The world is far bigger than I had ever thought," she comments. "One person is a very small part of that. It seems so strange that you and Sefton and the others," this time the bluerider's name doesn't make it out, "would, willingly or no, take so much of that on yourselves for what you believe is the good of everyone, when you will not do things that are good for yourselves." Like confronting one's father after a decade, or going home more often to one's family, or leaving formations and plans and worries behind for an afternoon's walk on the beach. But Lorna doesn't specify these things, eyes moving instead to the syrup-drenched berries. "What is for dessert?"
"I imagine it feels bigger if you didn't grow up in it," the weyrwoman considers, leaning forward to set her own plate down quietly on the table as Lorna considers the oddness of those who want big things. "I guess it is strange," she adds a bit softer, but there is no repentance in her tone. Only an acceptance that perhaps this is what she and Sefton and others do. Her gaze flicks from her plate to dessert. "Red and blue berries in cordial syrup. I think you'll like it." Small bowls set beside the bigger one that holds the sweet concoction are lifted, so that Roa can dish out a serving for both Lorna and herself. The rest of the meal carries on in amiable, if ever so slightly charged, silence. By the time they see each other at lunch the following morning, all will be as it was.
Time: Evening on Day 9, Month 2, Turn 3
Players: Roa, Lorna, and Tialith
Scene: Lorna comes for dinner. This is usual. Ashwin is not there. This is unusual. The conversation strays to various people, but also to Lorna's home and a certain bluerider that resides there. This is sacrilege.
It is dinner time, Lorna is expected and the table has been set. Only, tonight it has only been set for two. A bout of a vicious stomach virus has several of the guards down and out, and the Lieutenant has had to take an evening shift to compensate for the diminished men. The serving plates on the table hold fruit, greens, fish and a sort of berry drenched in syrup for dessert.
Roa is seated not near the arranged table, but on Tialith's couch. The slightly gravid queen has one foreleg extended, and the weyrwoman silently applies oil to the top of her paw.
There is no knock to warn of Lorna's appearance, though she makes some noise as she opens the door and steps inside, closing it with a little thump behind her. A smile for Tialith as she sees the goldrider's ministrations, and then her eyes cast over toward the table set for two. A little sigh, soundless but visible in her expression -- perhaps she had forgotten that Ashwin would not be there tonight. "It is so much quieter here than across the bowl in the living caverns," Lorna murmurs as she crosses over toward the queen's couch, settling on its edge near the wall so that she can lean against it, head tilted up to look at the gold. Her eyes close for a moment as she inhales the familiar scent of dragon hide and oil, letting a bit of a smile linger there.
Dark blue and whirling eyes orient on Lorna as she arrives, and while Roa doesn't yet turn around, her own head lifts a fraction. As the younger girl settles on her couch, the gold lowers her head with a faint rumble, settling it on the stone near enough to Lorna to be quite accessible. Roa rubs in the last glop of oil and then reaches for a rag to wipe her hands clean. "There's fewer people," she notes with a faint chuckle. "He sends his apologies, by the way, and says that in honor of the checkers game he would have lost anyhow, he'll fetch you for breakfast tomorrow morning."
The head resting on the stone may not be blue or brown, but Lorna's comfortable enough to move a little closer and give Tialith's eyeridges a soft caress. "He has won a few times," she says, truthfully, but she is smiling nonetheless. "Mostly while he was teaching me how to play." She shifts her gaze to Roa, with a quirk of her lips. "Breakfast is much nicer when there is no need to battle the endless residents of this place to get it."
Tialith's eye lids as she gets herself some scritches. Her rider bends down to cork the jar of oil and push it up against the stone couch to wait for the next time it's needed. "I am sensing a distinct theme in your comments tonight, Lorna."
Lorna's hand pauses against Tialith's hide, just for a moment, and then resumes its task. "It was only a longer day than others have been," she says, simply, her attention full on the dragon now. "You look well today." This is, apparently, for the gold.
The grumble, this time, is perhaps just slightly discontented if one knows what to listen for. But as the scritching continues, whatever displeasure was there fades away quickly enough. Roa finally lifts her gaze to look over at Lorna, her head canting a little to the side. "What made today longer?"
"I was trying to avoid that inevitable question," Lorna says softly, looking up again. This time she does not stop, but continues the motion of her hand, responsive to whatever might have been in that rumble. "I believe that, at least, is a universal concept." It's quite possibly the closest Lorna comes to sounding annoyed, and perhaps she hears it in her own voice because she retreats behind that vague stare of hers and quirks a smile. "I am not sure encountering so many strangers will ever be easy. What was your day like?" She doesn't even bother to hide the change of subject.
"I suppose it is," Roa agrees, "but so is persistent curiosity. My day was also long. I made a trip outweyr and balanced some of the ledgers for the month. Lunch in the living cavern. But speaking of food, shall we?" There is a small chinjerk towards the set table and the cooling food.
Persistent curiosity. That choice of phrasing earns Roa a quick smile, before Lorna returns her attention to Tialith, giving the gold a last fond caress before turning and getting to her feet. "That is one advantage to his not being here," she says, surveying the table. "Only fish and vegetables for us." No meat, in other words. Lorna crosses to what has quickly become her chair, to sink down onto it.
The weyrwoman follows after, taking up a plate, fruit, vegetables, and a piece of said fish. "Well, he mostly tucks it away all on his own, anyhow," she chuckles as she sits. Manners are a bit sloppier when the Lieutenant is not there to set an impeccable example. "I'm sorry it's so hard," she says softly, after a stretch of quiet.
"But this way, there is nothing even to see or smell," she notes cheerfully. Apparently, Lorna is a vegetarian -- or, at least, a fish-etarian -- through and through. Once Roa has gotten her plate, Lorna leans forward to retrieve her own share of the vegetables, taking only as much fish as she ever does, enough for the minimum protein she needs. She's in the act of setting her plate down again when Roa's apology comes, and though she doesn't look up, she pauses for a moment. Then the plate is set down and she pushes her hair back from her face as she replies, "Not anywhere near as hard as it might be. I am only sorry you have had another invade your--" She hesitates, perhaps uncharacteristically. "You did not have to share him, before." Then she does look up, eyes moving from her plate to the goldrider. "It was my decision to come." Even if it was a decision hastily made and later regretted.
The weyrwoman makes a faint sound and waves away the apology in regards to sharing Ashwin. "It's good for him, having your company," she explains, "in a couple of ways, I think." She looks down to her plate, picking up the fork to nudge her fare around without actually eating any of it, yet. "Does it make it easier?" she queries of Lorna's choice, "Knowing that?"
"He knows I am safe here, at least," Lorna agrees. "I know he thought I wouldn't be, there. It is very important to him. Once he has decided to bring a person in, there is no getting them out again." Her fingers curl around her fork as she watches the goldrider. Not quite one to avoid eye contact, she instead stares for a while in silence with Roa's question hanging in the air. Her eventual response is simple enough, but offers no explanation. "No."
"I think they could get out again," Roa considers, "but I expect they'd have to try fairly hard at it. He's a determined sort." A bit of green is speared and eaten. "I wouldn't have thought so," she notes for Lorna's simple response.
He is, at that," Lorna says, some warmth in her voice as she speaks. Her dinner holds little interest for her now, though occasionally she lowers her eyes to stare at it, as though it might provide her with some sort of answer or encouragement. She lets the silence stretch while Roa eats, her attention only half-there. Eventually the vacancy of her gaze shifts and she says, almost blurts, "I miss--" But it's an outburst that she controls, if somewhat after the fact. Instead she stands, reaching for her glass to fill it with juice.
Her brows raise and for a moment, Roa seems inclined to ask. But instead she looks back down at her own neglected plate, offering instead, "Tell me about your boat." That Lorna had one, and liked having one is one of the few island tidbits Roa has gleaned over the months of dinners and talks they have had.
Lorna is quiet for a while, finally picking up her own fork to make a dent on her plate. "It was not a very good one," she says, lightly. "There were no shipbuilders among those who were exiled." A bite of food, chewed and swallowed, and followed by a sip of her juice. "Ashwin was making it better when he left." Quiet again, and more juice, and then thoughtfully, "I wonder if Padi uses it now that I am gone. I would hope so."
"Padi...Padi..." Roa squints faintly as she thinks. "Padian," she notes finally with a small nod. "He likes sailing too?" Nudge nudge goes the fork, catching bits of fruit around the plate. "How old were you, when you finally got good at climbing trees?"
Lorna flashes that fleeting smile, nodding. "Padian," she confirms. "He and Laemont were my best friends there." And two more different friends would be harder to find. The smile lingers as she makes the subtle correction, "He likes the sea. I was a bit abnormal, I think, in how much I liked to just be out in my boat." The last question earns a genuine laugh, and she looks up to fix pale eyes warmed by humor on the other woman. "Not so much older than when I first tried it. I have heard that story so many times I almost remember it myself. I only really remember..." She trails into silence, thoughtfulness expressed in the vacancy of her look again as she scoops up another mouthful onto her fork.
The second break in as many minutes, and this one a bit more clear to the little goldrider. She too drops her gaze and spends a little time simply eating more of her dinner. She does not, as is her usual wont, attempt to inspire any more conversation.
Lorna is content in that silence, or at least gives the appearance of it for a good long while. The forkful never quite makes it to her mouth though, and if someone were watching they might detect the faint quiver of her lips now and then as she considers, and discards, things that end up unsaid. Eventually she lowers her fork again, and raises her eyes. "You could have said something to him," she says, softly. "Anything."
Roa's own fork lowers too quickly, and the *klink* of metal on ceramic, a sound that would have been easily lost in the ebb and flow of the living cavern, is startlingly loud in the quiet weyr. The weyrwoman studies her plate with a singular sort of focus. "I had nothing to say."
Lorna doesn't jump at the sound, though she does glance away from Roa's face to her fork for a moment. Just a moment spared from her stare, and then it's back again. She's quiet for a time, perhaps thinking or perhaps debating whether or not to press the issue. Perhaps she's merely considering whether she ought to have taken more fish. After a while, her head tilts a little and she says, "Like shells you didn't." Quite calm, her voice, even using such language as she -never- uses. A pause, and then she brings that forkful up to her mouth again, chewing and swallowing the fish. Then, very quietly, "Even if you had nothing to say, could you not see how badly he has wanted you to say it?" Lorna may not have been present at the sudden confrontation of Roa and her father, but she had lived with the man for over a decade. As ever, she does not take the hint and leave it alone.
One of those slow and careful breaths that Roa has learned from the Lieutenant is drawn in through her nose and slowly out of her mouth. Her own plate is examined for a minute longer before she looks up to calmly meet the other girl's champagne gaze. "Have you spoken with Neiran at all since you first met?"
Lorna watches her efforts at controlling herself with a sort of cool detachment, though if Roa were not staring so hard at her own plate she might see the signs that Lorna is trying to control herself, as well. The question barely registers, bringing not even a moment's hesitation. "He is a good man. And some day you will wish that you said the things you didn't." There is no judgment in her tone, despite her words, only that warm softness that makes no attempt to hide her regard for the bluerider. After a few moments, she bends her head to look at her plate again, pulling another piece of her fish apart and half-raising it to her mouth. "I did. He came in while I was having a drink with Sefton, and the three of us had a conversation for a time." Probably the first such conversation outside of Roa, Ashwin, and Aida since Lorna arrived.
Her expression is carefully blank as Lorna continues to discuss one of the few things that Roa refuses to speak on. At the mention of Neiran, and even at the mention of Sefton, her shoulders relax. "You met the Headmaster?" she asks, forcing up a small smile. "What did you and he and Neiran speak on? What did you think of him?"
As if she had never forced the issue, never so much as mentioned it, Lorna glances up with a smile. "I met him," she confirms. "Twice now. I was in the kitchens when they were looking for someone to bring him his dinner, and I had heard so much about him. I thought I would go see what everyone was so interested in." Persistent curiosity. She picks up her glass to drink some of her juice before continuing. "I like him. Though I am afraid he may think I am a little too intriguing. He had me stay so that he could ask questions. Ashwin would wince."
Roa allows her smile to grow a bit. "Ahh. But Ashwin is not here. If Sefton invited you back, then it is quite certain he is interested in you. And that could be problematic, as if you spend any great deal of time with him, he will realize you're not from Ista. But we...he knows you are mine and Ashwin's?" If it's an odd way of putting it, the weyrwoman seems unaware.
Lorna tilts her head a little, considering the question and perhaps its implications. Eventually, she replies, "He knows. He has not quite decided what to do with me yet, but he likes me. Enough that he would defend me just a little against his student, though perhaps it is just curiosity that prompts him to keep me coming back." She pauses, and then smiles again, this time felt enough to warm her cheeks a little. "Though I get the feeling he is often clashing a little with Neiran." Or vice versa, but she keeps that particular observation to herself.
"I get that feeling too. Sefton...enjoys clashing with others. He enjoys the game. But, if he knows you're tied to me, then you're safe enough. Just...be a little bit careful." Roa shakes her head, eyes rolling. "He entertains himself with other people."
"Other people are often very entertaining," remarks Lorna mildly, taking another mouthful of fish. Once she's finished swallowing, She sets her fork down for a little while. "He does not know where Ashwin and Jensen were, does he?" She reaches for her juice, but does not drink yet. "I have found that most people, when they meet me, just assume I am a little strange. What reason would they have to suspect that I am a girl raised almost entirely by condemned criminals on an island that no one likes to even think about? There are plenty of people wandering the place who are just a little strange." She pauses to take her drink of juice, and then adds, in a deadpan worthy of Ashwin himself, "I believe Neiran is a case in point."
Roa laughs. "Perhaps he is, and certainly, no one suspects Neiran of being raised on an island of criminals." Her smile softens a little as she corrects, "I have not told Sefton where Ashwin and Jensen were, but to say he does not know is never a wise thing to presume about the Headmaster. I am overdue to pay him a visit anyhow, so we'll see what he knows and what he ought to know."
"I imagine there is very little that is safe to presume about him," replies Lorna. Silence for a while as she continues her dinner, and for a moment it seems she's finished with the subject of the Headmaster. But then she pauses, resting her fork against her plate, and looks up again. "He told me he used to live somewhere not so different from my island. I looked it up on my geography map. He says he misses it, and he looked like he meant that more than anything else he said that night." The forkful of food is upended, and Lorna pushes the last of her fish around her plate as she considers this. "It's puzzling why anyone would stay here if they had somewhere else to be that they loved so much. He is not the only one of us with questions."
"Southern Boll," the weyrwoman says quietly, "is where he's from. It is warm there all of the time, and very green. And there is the ocean. In those ways, it might remind you of...of home. But in other ways it is a part of the mainland. There is a Hold there and a Hall and very many people. And nearly all of them look like Sefton," she finishes with a soft laugh. "I think he stays because as much as he misses his home, there are things he wants even more. And he works towards them by staying here."
Lorna listens to Roa's description of the place, a bit of a smile curving her mouth. "They all look like him?" she asks, perhaps a little taken aback by the idea of a beach full of Seftons. "Are they all so aware of it as he is?" But she has nothing else to say on the subject of his arrogance and security in his charming grin and tousled hair, instead speaking in a softer voice, "You... Sefton... J'lor. Everyone has such big plans for the world. You all want such changes for it." Unspoken, but palpable nonetheless, is that this small piece of said world only wishes to go home -- but Lorna has never much been interested in change. "It makes me wonder how much the world cares what anyone wants."
Are they all so aware of it? "They are not for the most part, thank Faranth," Roa says, but the smirk on her lips dims with the rest of Lorna's words. "Everybody wants something, Lorna. I think it is the duty of those who want greater things to make sure that those who want smaller things are not held back from their own dreams. Whatever that means."
The last few pieces of vegetable left on Lorna's plate have been abandoned, her fork long since left at the side of her dish. She tilts her head at Roa, fixing her with one of those blankly thoughtful gazes. "The world is far bigger than I had ever thought," she comments. "One person is a very small part of that. It seems so strange that you and Sefton and the others," this time the bluerider's name doesn't make it out, "would, willingly or no, take so much of that on yourselves for what you believe is the good of everyone, when you will not do things that are good for yourselves." Like confronting one's father after a decade, or going home more often to one's family, or leaving formations and plans and worries behind for an afternoon's walk on the beach. But Lorna doesn't specify these things, eyes moving instead to the syrup-drenched berries. "What is for dessert?"
"I imagine it feels bigger if you didn't grow up in it," the weyrwoman considers, leaning forward to set her own plate down quietly on the table as Lorna considers the oddness of those who want big things. "I guess it is strange," she adds a bit softer, but there is no repentance in her tone. Only an acceptance that perhaps this is what she and Sefton and others do. Her gaze flicks from her plate to dessert. "Red and blue berries in cordial syrup. I think you'll like it." Small bowls set beside the bigger one that holds the sweet concoction are lifted, so that Roa can dish out a serving for both Lorna and herself. The rest of the meal carries on in amiable, if ever so slightly charged, silence. By the time they see each other at lunch the following morning, all will be as it was.