Chopping Wood
Location: Aramia's Bar in Tillek
Time: Afternoon on Day 9, Month 12, Turn 3
Players: Seyra, Fenten, Ashwin
Scene: Ashwin comes home for a bit of advice. He gets answers, though not very heartening ones.
Near the start of the twelfth month, winter has already settled and brought snow along with it. Tillek is a bit better off than High Reaches, but not by much. The Bar has a path leading to it's doorstep shoveled and the faint sound of an ax chopping firewood can be heard faintly from the front of the place. Within, the ten women that call the bar their home are busy with various tasks. Kava washes the tables while Perri and Triess do the dishes. Juna mops the floor. Aramia's cataloguing the alcohol while Darcie does the wash and Lilana works on sewing up rips and tears in various garments. It's Seyra that's around the back chopping wood, and Fen is diligently carrying it in to stack by the fireplace. Delia's seated in the kitchen, keeping Perri and Triess company and kneading dough for the evening's bread.
Ashwin knows the reception he can expect, at least from the majority of these women, and perhaps that's why he approaches thoughtfully. The woodchopping candidates are few, and that pool's most likely to yield up one of the people he wishes to speak to. So he circles, avoiding the welcome wagon, and coming to the gate that shuts in the back courtyard. One hand reaches over it, finds the catch, and it swings open, so the pale weyr's Captain is framed in the gateway, waiting for the chopper or the carrier of wood to register his presence.
It's the carrier that notices first, since she doesn't have the sound of an ax in her ear, though she does have an armful of wood that prevents proper greeting for Aramia's boy. "Hey Ash," Fen offers instead. "Got klah on the fire, you want something warm." Seyra lets the ax fall a final time before looking up herself. She offers Ash a quiet smile. "Come to lend a hand? Mine are near frozen."
"Hey, Fen," Ash replies, with a smile for the woman that contains a degree more relaxation than he used to provide, a degree more friendliness. And then a nod for Seyra, and a second quick smile. "Don't tell 'em I'm here just yet? Just want a word with Seyra while I see if I remember how to chop this up for her, then I'll go in and see the rest of them." He's crossing the courtyard as he speaks, unfastening the jacket he wore to travel between, and holding out one hand for the ax.
"Oh sure. Have your secrets. Don't mind me." It might be huffy, if it had come from Triess or Darcie. From Fen, it's just a lazy tease as she drifts back into the bar. Seyra hands the ax off before sinking down on a large log made for sitting, her cold hands tucking into her apron and rubbing together. She just waits quietly. Patient. Seyra's never been one to pry.
"That's right," Ashwin agrees, returning the lazy familiarity as he takes possession of the ax, turning it over in his hands to feel the weight of it. He takes up Seyra's position, nudges the log he's to split a tiny bit further away, to accommodate his longer limbs, and then swings. He hasn't forgotten how. "How you been?"
Seyra waits for the *thwack* rather than bothering to try and speak over it. "Been fine. Everyone's doing all right, around here. You? How's Roa? Must be big as a house, by now."
"Big as a fuckin' dragon," Ashwin agrees. "Doubled in size. Didn't know that was even possible." Another thwack, and the log's in two. He kicks it to one side, and reaches down for the next, setting it in place. "Beautiful, though." Not a sentiment he would have expressed, once. "Pretty soon, now."
Her gaze drops to her tucked hands so Seyra can smile fondly at them. "Bet she is. Nervous, yet?"
Thwack. Ashwin braces the log with one boot, and hefts the ax free. "She doesn't call me her weyrmate," he replies, as he readies to swing again. "Or anything. That's what makes her nervous."
"No?" Seyra asks, though the tone of her voice doesn't suggest a great amount of surprise. "Think she likes you pretty well, whatever she calls you."
"Puts up with me, anyway," Ash agrees, as the ax comes down hard. This log will take one more swing, so again, he braces it with his boot, pulls the ax free, and swings.
"Loves you, I'd say." It's not a word Seyra would have used with Ashwin before. At least, not when talking about a girl. But things have a way of changing, sometimes. "Is that what's got you back here doing my chores?"
Ashwin's quiet, wriggling the ax so the two halves of the log fall apart, and then he stoops to pick up one, and set it down to be split a second time. His quiet is his reply, until he's got the piece of wood lined up. "You might say, she doesn't," he replies, and then swings. His conversation, at least, isn't slowing down his work.
Aramia's first girl cants her head to the side, thoughtful. "How come I might say that?"
"What?" Ashwin looks up, as he kicks the pieces of wood to one side, and stoops for the second half. "You just did. 'Love you, I'd say'. I'm saying, you might say she does, but she sure don't." The wood is set down, and he lifts the ax. "If I'm noticing someone's holding back, well. Got to be something for me to notice, right?" There's a sort of grim humour in the question.
"You mean," Seyra offers carefully, lifting grey eyes to observe Ashwin, "you think she doesn't, because she won't call you 'weyrmate'?"
"Dunno what I think," Ashwin replies, pausing to swing, and then kicking the wood over into the pile once more while he continues. "Except she's having my son pretty soon, or my daughter, and I've accepted a position from her Weyrleader, and fuck, Seyra. I'd stand by her if she never said it, if she never thought it. Make life easier if she did, though."
"Oh, Ash," Seyra smiles faintly and shakes her head, "that she don't hasn't got anything to do with you. She came that way. She can't help it."
"The fuck?" A hint of frustration in Ashwin's voice there, in quick contrast to the relaxed tone of his words so far. "If I can say it, fucked up as I am, then what --?" He shrugs, and pulls his jacket a little more open, reaching for his next log.
"She's just..." Seyra falls silent, stretching out her legs, "it's hard to describe. I've seen it before, but it's hard to explain. It's like...well, usually how it goes is someone important went away when they shouldn't have. And she figures they did that because of something about her. And she's just kept on figuring, since then, that's what people'll do."
Ashwin readies the log as she speaks, and swings just as she finishes. He misses, and is forced to step back and pull up, the blade of the ax creating sparks as it hits the stone, his movement too late to save that. "Fuck," he mutters, lifting it for an inspection. Then he looks up at her, flickering for a moment from expressionless to something discomforted. "You saying she thinks I will? Burned every bridge I got to stay at Reaches."
There is a small wince from Seyra as the sparks go flying, maybe for the ax or maybe for the man that wields it. "Like I said, Ash. Ain't about you. Not this. It's about her."
Ashwin turns the ax over in his hands, frowning faintly at it, and then lifts one boot so he can nudge the log back into position for a second swing. "Can't fix it, you're saying," he replies, neutral, withdrawn.
"Can't force it fixed," Seyra amends. "Can't tell her it's not so, can't scowl it out of her. But you stay, one of these days she'll notice you're still there. And that'll be a start."
Ashwin sniffs, the sinus-clearing, indelicate sniffs that are usually kept to training sessions, and swings the ax one more time in silence, watching as the two halves of the log fall apart and hit the ground. "How long I been there, Seyra?" Another reserved question.
"The Weyr?" Seyra tips her head to the side again as she thinks. "Comin' up on two and a half turns pretty soon. With her? Well, none of us rightly know when that started exactly, but we found out about it...bit over a turn, it's been."
"Two turns, fourth month of next turn," Ashwin replies. "Closer to two than one. And a baby coming. And no way home to Tillek, and she knows it. How long does it take?" He kicks at the log halves, sending them rolling over to the pile.
"I dunno, Ash. Depends on who it was that left in the first place, probably. It ain't much based on logic, these things. I don't think she's got a calendar she's checkin' off, with a big day circled that means you're really staying." Seyra pushes upright to walk over to the pile of logs, stacking them a bit more tidily than kicking will allow. "You always got a way home. You're here now. They're lookin' for another Captain, you know."
"I don't got a way home, because any way there is involves leaving her behind, and that I won't --" Ashwin has turned, and is reaching for another log. He lets it drop, though, and turns back to face her. "They're what, sorry?"
"You didn't hear? Sedgewick's gone." Seyra tuts faintly, picking up the fallen log and setting it on the chopping block. "Couple months, now. Nobody knows where or why. Just up and left."
"I didn't hear," Ashwin replies, stepping back so he can heft the ax again. "Dead, with any luck," he continues. "Someone's husband found him." He shakes his head, and adjusts his belt, shifting a knife back slightly to a more comfortable place. "Fuck him. Makes no difference, wouldn't have met her otherwise." He clears his throat, and swings again, bracing the log with his foot so he can pull the ax free. "So you say just wait by, until one day she notices I'm still there."
"Yeah, could be dead. Some folks are sayin'...well, talk's just talk. It's probably ain't anything." She straightens and dusts her hands off on her skirt. "I'm sayin' it's the best I can think to suggest, yeah. She's, I mean, she's pretty scared. I know you don't like hearin' any of this, but you should look at it from her view too, even if it is all wrong. Pregnant, with a Weyr to think of and now all of those...those..." Seyra shudders, her nose wrinkling, "over at Five Mines, and she's probably half-figuring how she's supposed to do it all alone. Just in case she has to. Which, I know, she won't, but like I said. Not much logic to it."
Ashwin's lips press together in a thin line as he hauls the ax free, and lifts it to his shoulder again. Then even that fades away, so his mask is back in place. Just like old times. "Thanks," he murmurs, taking longer than he needs to line up his swing. Wham. There it goes. "Tell me about Sedge."
Seyra sighs softly, watching the ax fall hard. "It's just talk," she repeats again. "He came from High Reaches before here. Served under...well...I guess it would have been your Jensen. But before that, before the trials, I mean..." Seyra shrugs, one foot nudging at a lump of snow. "So some people think he packed up and headed over there. Picked up old ties."
"R'en," Ashwin corrects her absently, hauling the ax free, then turning it over to use the blunt side to tap the log, so that it falls in two. "Tell me anyway, there's any more talk. Write."
"Not when he was Captain at High Reaches," Seyra counters. "You'd probably hear talk sooner than me about that place. But I hear anything, sure. I'll write. I think that's enough wood to hold for a couple days." She begins to gather up an armful of chopped logs. "Wish I could've been more helpful to you."
"Plenty helpful," Ashwin replies, letting the ax swing down so he can take the two steps over to the woodpile, rest a hand on her shoulder, and lean in to kiss her cheek. "Going to stay out here a bit longer, get you more'n a couple of days. They can come out and say hey, if they want."
Seyra tilts her cheek so that it can be kissed more easily. "I'll let 'em trickle out in ones and twos. Happy Turnday, by the way. We didn't forget. We just figured, with the baby and all, we'd be merciful this turn."
"An' here Ella told me to get my ass back here before she kicked it back," Ashwin replies, turning back to the pile of wood that's waiting to be chopped. "Get in and get warm."
"Well, you can take the girl outta the bar..." Seyra laughs, shaking her head. "I miss her sometimes, even with the way she and Darcie would carry on. Don't catch cold. And don't chop the whole pile." She gives Ashwin's arm a squeeze before heading back inside to sit by the fire for a spell and quietly let the others know, a couple at a time, that Ashwin's over for a visit.
Time: Afternoon on Day 9, Month 12, Turn 3
Players: Seyra, Fenten, Ashwin
Scene: Ashwin comes home for a bit of advice. He gets answers, though not very heartening ones.
Near the start of the twelfth month, winter has already settled and brought snow along with it. Tillek is a bit better off than High Reaches, but not by much. The Bar has a path leading to it's doorstep shoveled and the faint sound of an ax chopping firewood can be heard faintly from the front of the place. Within, the ten women that call the bar their home are busy with various tasks. Kava washes the tables while Perri and Triess do the dishes. Juna mops the floor. Aramia's cataloguing the alcohol while Darcie does the wash and Lilana works on sewing up rips and tears in various garments. It's Seyra that's around the back chopping wood, and Fen is diligently carrying it in to stack by the fireplace. Delia's seated in the kitchen, keeping Perri and Triess company and kneading dough for the evening's bread.
Ashwin knows the reception he can expect, at least from the majority of these women, and perhaps that's why he approaches thoughtfully. The woodchopping candidates are few, and that pool's most likely to yield up one of the people he wishes to speak to. So he circles, avoiding the welcome wagon, and coming to the gate that shuts in the back courtyard. One hand reaches over it, finds the catch, and it swings open, so the pale weyr's Captain is framed in the gateway, waiting for the chopper or the carrier of wood to register his presence.
It's the carrier that notices first, since she doesn't have the sound of an ax in her ear, though she does have an armful of wood that prevents proper greeting for Aramia's boy. "Hey Ash," Fen offers instead. "Got klah on the fire, you want something warm." Seyra lets the ax fall a final time before looking up herself. She offers Ash a quiet smile. "Come to lend a hand? Mine are near frozen."
"Hey, Fen," Ash replies, with a smile for the woman that contains a degree more relaxation than he used to provide, a degree more friendliness. And then a nod for Seyra, and a second quick smile. "Don't tell 'em I'm here just yet? Just want a word with Seyra while I see if I remember how to chop this up for her, then I'll go in and see the rest of them." He's crossing the courtyard as he speaks, unfastening the jacket he wore to travel between, and holding out one hand for the ax.
"Oh sure. Have your secrets. Don't mind me." It might be huffy, if it had come from Triess or Darcie. From Fen, it's just a lazy tease as she drifts back into the bar. Seyra hands the ax off before sinking down on a large log made for sitting, her cold hands tucking into her apron and rubbing together. She just waits quietly. Patient. Seyra's never been one to pry.
"That's right," Ashwin agrees, returning the lazy familiarity as he takes possession of the ax, turning it over in his hands to feel the weight of it. He takes up Seyra's position, nudges the log he's to split a tiny bit further away, to accommodate his longer limbs, and then swings. He hasn't forgotten how. "How you been?"
Seyra waits for the *thwack* rather than bothering to try and speak over it. "Been fine. Everyone's doing all right, around here. You? How's Roa? Must be big as a house, by now."
"Big as a fuckin' dragon," Ashwin agrees. "Doubled in size. Didn't know that was even possible." Another thwack, and the log's in two. He kicks it to one side, and reaches down for the next, setting it in place. "Beautiful, though." Not a sentiment he would have expressed, once. "Pretty soon, now."
Her gaze drops to her tucked hands so Seyra can smile fondly at them. "Bet she is. Nervous, yet?"
Thwack. Ashwin braces the log with one boot, and hefts the ax free. "She doesn't call me her weyrmate," he replies, as he readies to swing again. "Or anything. That's what makes her nervous."
"No?" Seyra asks, though the tone of her voice doesn't suggest a great amount of surprise. "Think she likes you pretty well, whatever she calls you."
"Puts up with me, anyway," Ash agrees, as the ax comes down hard. This log will take one more swing, so again, he braces it with his boot, pulls the ax free, and swings.
"Loves you, I'd say." It's not a word Seyra would have used with Ashwin before. At least, not when talking about a girl. But things have a way of changing, sometimes. "Is that what's got you back here doing my chores?"
Ashwin's quiet, wriggling the ax so the two halves of the log fall apart, and then he stoops to pick up one, and set it down to be split a second time. His quiet is his reply, until he's got the piece of wood lined up. "You might say, she doesn't," he replies, and then swings. His conversation, at least, isn't slowing down his work.
Aramia's first girl cants her head to the side, thoughtful. "How come I might say that?"
"What?" Ashwin looks up, as he kicks the pieces of wood to one side, and stoops for the second half. "You just did. 'Love you, I'd say'. I'm saying, you might say she does, but she sure don't." The wood is set down, and he lifts the ax. "If I'm noticing someone's holding back, well. Got to be something for me to notice, right?" There's a sort of grim humour in the question.
"You mean," Seyra offers carefully, lifting grey eyes to observe Ashwin, "you think she doesn't, because she won't call you 'weyrmate'?"
"Dunno what I think," Ashwin replies, pausing to swing, and then kicking the wood over into the pile once more while he continues. "Except she's having my son pretty soon, or my daughter, and I've accepted a position from her Weyrleader, and fuck, Seyra. I'd stand by her if she never said it, if she never thought it. Make life easier if she did, though."
"Oh, Ash," Seyra smiles faintly and shakes her head, "that she don't hasn't got anything to do with you. She came that way. She can't help it."
"The fuck?" A hint of frustration in Ashwin's voice there, in quick contrast to the relaxed tone of his words so far. "If I can say it, fucked up as I am, then what --?" He shrugs, and pulls his jacket a little more open, reaching for his next log.
"She's just..." Seyra falls silent, stretching out her legs, "it's hard to describe. I've seen it before, but it's hard to explain. It's like...well, usually how it goes is someone important went away when they shouldn't have. And she figures they did that because of something about her. And she's just kept on figuring, since then, that's what people'll do."
Ashwin readies the log as she speaks, and swings just as she finishes. He misses, and is forced to step back and pull up, the blade of the ax creating sparks as it hits the stone, his movement too late to save that. "Fuck," he mutters, lifting it for an inspection. Then he looks up at her, flickering for a moment from expressionless to something discomforted. "You saying she thinks I will? Burned every bridge I got to stay at Reaches."
There is a small wince from Seyra as the sparks go flying, maybe for the ax or maybe for the man that wields it. "Like I said, Ash. Ain't about you. Not this. It's about her."
Ashwin turns the ax over in his hands, frowning faintly at it, and then lifts one boot so he can nudge the log back into position for a second swing. "Can't fix it, you're saying," he replies, neutral, withdrawn.
"Can't force it fixed," Seyra amends. "Can't tell her it's not so, can't scowl it out of her. But you stay, one of these days she'll notice you're still there. And that'll be a start."
Ashwin sniffs, the sinus-clearing, indelicate sniffs that are usually kept to training sessions, and swings the ax one more time in silence, watching as the two halves of the log fall apart and hit the ground. "How long I been there, Seyra?" Another reserved question.
"The Weyr?" Seyra tips her head to the side again as she thinks. "Comin' up on two and a half turns pretty soon. With her? Well, none of us rightly know when that started exactly, but we found out about it...bit over a turn, it's been."
"Two turns, fourth month of next turn," Ashwin replies. "Closer to two than one. And a baby coming. And no way home to Tillek, and she knows it. How long does it take?" He kicks at the log halves, sending them rolling over to the pile.
"I dunno, Ash. Depends on who it was that left in the first place, probably. It ain't much based on logic, these things. I don't think she's got a calendar she's checkin' off, with a big day circled that means you're really staying." Seyra pushes upright to walk over to the pile of logs, stacking them a bit more tidily than kicking will allow. "You always got a way home. You're here now. They're lookin' for another Captain, you know."
"I don't got a way home, because any way there is involves leaving her behind, and that I won't --" Ashwin has turned, and is reaching for another log. He lets it drop, though, and turns back to face her. "They're what, sorry?"
"You didn't hear? Sedgewick's gone." Seyra tuts faintly, picking up the fallen log and setting it on the chopping block. "Couple months, now. Nobody knows where or why. Just up and left."
"I didn't hear," Ashwin replies, stepping back so he can heft the ax again. "Dead, with any luck," he continues. "Someone's husband found him." He shakes his head, and adjusts his belt, shifting a knife back slightly to a more comfortable place. "Fuck him. Makes no difference, wouldn't have met her otherwise." He clears his throat, and swings again, bracing the log with his foot so he can pull the ax free. "So you say just wait by, until one day she notices I'm still there."
"Yeah, could be dead. Some folks are sayin'...well, talk's just talk. It's probably ain't anything." She straightens and dusts her hands off on her skirt. "I'm sayin' it's the best I can think to suggest, yeah. She's, I mean, she's pretty scared. I know you don't like hearin' any of this, but you should look at it from her view too, even if it is all wrong. Pregnant, with a Weyr to think of and now all of those...those..." Seyra shudders, her nose wrinkling, "over at Five Mines, and she's probably half-figuring how she's supposed to do it all alone. Just in case she has to. Which, I know, she won't, but like I said. Not much logic to it."
Ashwin's lips press together in a thin line as he hauls the ax free, and lifts it to his shoulder again. Then even that fades away, so his mask is back in place. Just like old times. "Thanks," he murmurs, taking longer than he needs to line up his swing. Wham. There it goes. "Tell me about Sedge."
Seyra sighs softly, watching the ax fall hard. "It's just talk," she repeats again. "He came from High Reaches before here. Served under...well...I guess it would have been your Jensen. But before that, before the trials, I mean..." Seyra shrugs, one foot nudging at a lump of snow. "So some people think he packed up and headed over there. Picked up old ties."
"R'en," Ashwin corrects her absently, hauling the ax free, then turning it over to use the blunt side to tap the log, so that it falls in two. "Tell me anyway, there's any more talk. Write."
"Not when he was Captain at High Reaches," Seyra counters. "You'd probably hear talk sooner than me about that place. But I hear anything, sure. I'll write. I think that's enough wood to hold for a couple days." She begins to gather up an armful of chopped logs. "Wish I could've been more helpful to you."
"Plenty helpful," Ashwin replies, letting the ax swing down so he can take the two steps over to the woodpile, rest a hand on her shoulder, and lean in to kiss her cheek. "Going to stay out here a bit longer, get you more'n a couple of days. They can come out and say hey, if they want."
Seyra tilts her cheek so that it can be kissed more easily. "I'll let 'em trickle out in ones and twos. Happy Turnday, by the way. We didn't forget. We just figured, with the baby and all, we'd be merciful this turn."
"An' here Ella told me to get my ass back here before she kicked it back," Ashwin replies, turning back to the pile of wood that's waiting to be chopped. "Get in and get warm."
"Well, you can take the girl outta the bar..." Seyra laughs, shaking her head. "I miss her sometimes, even with the way she and Darcie would carry on. Don't catch cold. And don't chop the whole pile." She gives Ashwin's arm a squeeze before heading back inside to sit by the fire for a spell and quietly let the others know, a couple at a time, that Ashwin's over for a visit.