Mail call

Jul 27, 2009 22:19

It is a spring night, 20:09 of day 24, month 4, turn 20 of Interval 10.

>---< Local Weather >--------------------------------------------------------<

Heavy, driving rain makes everything a wet and muddy mess today.

>----------------------------------------------------------------------------<

Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr

Stalactites hang high above this enormous cavern like a jagged chandelier or an inversion of the Spires themselves, but shadows cling to them instead of light. Below lie great tables arranged in rows, each large enough to serve a fighting wing, while in the nooks and alcoves around the cavern's edge sit more sensibly-sized tables, from six- and eight-seaters down to intimate spots for just a couple of diners. The only really open space is around the kitchen entrance, smelling of food and rarely quiet, and by the nearby serving tables with their long buffet of the day's offerings.

Tapestries on the smooth walls -- some faded and others newly woven -- only slightly mute the sea of sound when a meal is in full swing, but they add cheerfulness augmented by the glowlight from wall sconces and the centerpieces of each table. Still, shadows always creep along the ceiling and into the mouths of the exits -- the myriad small hallways at one end of the cavern and, at the other, the twisting tunnel to the bowl near an array of coathooks and and hatracks -- and late at night, when the glows are allowed to dim, the chamber can seem very dark indeed.

Obvious exits:
Inner Caverns Kitchen Bowl

Evening. The Reaches. Pouring down rain. And there's the headwoman sitting at a table with some sweets and a mug of klah and a departing conversational companion. "See you tomorrow, Alieva, sleep well!" she says in a cheery enough tone of voice and dunks the end of her cookie into the klah. The cavern is by no means empty but it's not full like it was right around the meal time two hours ago.

Evening. The Reaches. Pouring down rain. And here comes a sodden Fortian rider pulling off his helmet and tugging open his jacket, eyes searching around for a conversational companion. It's Alieva's movement, not Milani's voice, that first draws him toward the cookie-dunker, but once he's got the redhead's face in sight his steps bring him that much closer that much faster. "Hey, I..." The greenrider stops just a few steps away to stare at her, face scrunched like he's trying to think. "--We met?" he finally asks, shifting the bag slung over his shoulder.

He's soaked and her mouth is full. But Milani smiles, chipmunk cheeked and waves for Kai to sit down. Swallow. "/B'kaiv/, how nice to see you again!" the headwoman says in warmly welcoming fashion. "Yes. I re-arranged your furniture about a half turn ago, roughly," Millie reminds him. "I had on a pretty red dress though and I was coming onto you at the time. Ring any bells?"

There's a baffled blink when she knows his name, and the Fortian looks behind him like there will be some other man named B'kaiv standing there. But as she goes on Kai relaxes and can even manage most of a relieved smile. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I thought you looked familiar. Ma'am." Right arm twitches, but he manages to repress the instinct to salute, though he doesn't transmute it into something else (something suave). "Don't remember your name, though. Uh... Lili? Lali? Something like that, ain't it?"

"Oh I'm hurt," Milani pouts a little and props her chin up on her hand. "Milani. Millie," she reminds him and pats the table. "Sit, can I get you something to drink? Something warm? The weather's been awful around here today. Just pouring down rain all day and you're drenched!"

"Yeah," Kai agrees, "That's it. Lili, Millie. Milani." He jerks his chin at her shoulder, the one with the badge on it. "Headwoman." /That/ much he remembers. A second later and he pulls out a chair and slides into it, rain dripping from his jacket and bag. "Uh, yeah. Please. Got these letters t' deliver. Chielyth's having fun playing in it, though." She might remember, from half a turn ago, that his diction is better now.

Pushing to her feet, Milani holds a hand out for that wet jacket. "I can have someone see to that too, if you'd like. Set it by the hearth to dry for when you leave. And /letters/ at this hour in the wet? Tsk. What's that new Weyrleader of yours thinking?" Big eyes made and she chuckles. "Though he is awfully cute. I wonder if he'll still float around here when Vrianth goes up ... hm." Her shoulders lift, drop again. "You're looking well and sounding a little different. But hold that thought, while I get you the klah."

B'kaiv stares at her hand for a second before the shoe drops and he wriggles out of it, first ducking free of the bag's strap. "That's, uh, real nice of you ma'am." He's not too wet underneath - mostly around the edges where water's crept in. "I dunno as they're letters. Headwoman - uh, Fort's headwoman - just gave 'em t' me an' asked as I could bring 'em up. This is th' first time I got a chance." He doesn't speculate on T'rev's dreaminess - or maybe he was about to when she cuts him off. He nods instead and meekly hands over his jacket.

Jacket taken and Milani wags a finger at Kai. "Millie. Not ma'am. I'm off duty, even if you're not." She turns with the jacket and vanishes for a little bit, not too long, to see to having his jacket set up on a rack by the hearth in the kitchen where post-dinner clean up is about done and returns with a mug and a covered pitcher. "I'm going to want a refill, so I brought the whole pitcher. May as well, right?" She sets his mug down in front of him, draws back the cloth and fills it, then sets the pitcher down and herself in her chair. "So. Those letters will need to go to the postmistress here unless there's any that need hand-delivering. But while you're drying out and warming up, tell me how you've been? Did you sort things out with the girl you were telling me about the last time I saw you?"

When she returns Kai's looking a bit drier, and the mismatched sleeves of his sweater are pushed almost to the elbow. "Thanks," he says to the pitcher, and takes his mug with a nod. "I dunno - I ain't looked at none of 'em. Didn't got time when she gave 'em t' me, an' ain't really had time since." He settles back in his chair with his klah, and squints one eye nearly closed across the table. "You got a good memory. Uh, yeah, I did. Ma an' her. She still ain't no journeyman yet, but it's. She's better. I mean, she's closer. T' getting it."

"Okay, well, I'll be quiet for a few minutes to /let/ you look and then you tell me and I'll tell you where to go." Milani curls her hands around her own mug. "You're unforgettable," she compliments the greenrider with a hint of cheek in her smile. "And /good/ I'm very glad you worked that all out. I wish her all the luck in the world getting that knot."

Let him...? Oh! Reminded, B'kaiv finally scoops up the bag and sets it on his lap, pulls out a handful of rolled and folded hides. It's less than a minute later when the easily-identifiable names (those with honorifics, or a better identifier than just a name) are set to one side, and the two mysteries are offered for the Headwoman's perusal. "You know them? --Yeah, she's - she had t' go back t' the Hall for a bit. Shells, too long. But she's back."

Taking the letters, Milani looks over the two mysteries and nods briskly. "I can take these for you. I know where both of them live and I'll be seeing this one later," she taps the one envelope and sets both aside, folding her hands together before her. "Oh that must've been rough. And how're you liking being a full rider now?"

B'kaiv says, "Thanks," and shoves the other letters back into their bag. "Yeah, it weren't - mean, I'm glad she were gone, 'cause she were taking all these tests an' things, but it weren't real nice her not being there or nothing." Klah collected, he has some and glances around the room before answering. "It's - it ain't like being a weyrling. It is, but it ain't. We drill... shells. More'n twice as much as some wings. But it keeps Chielyth busy. S'how come we ain't been able t' get up here t'day until now."

"Mm, double-edged sword," Milani quips lightly and reaches for the pitcher to top up her mug a little before she sips. "Really? What's twice as much? Some of the wings here only drill once a month. Some of the older riders complain about it sometimes. Some though like having the free time. What's your take? And is keeping Chielyth busy ... well is that a big thing for you?"

"We got something going on six days out of th' seven," Kai answers promptly. "Thread drills, or drills for games, or -something-." He whistles for 'once a month', head shaking in disbelief. "That'd be nice. There's a couple wings at Fort only drill once, twice a seven. But th'- th' wingleader wants t' be ready, I guess. In case." /You/ know. In case. "She likes keeping busy. Don't like th' morning drills none. She ain't rose yet, neither. I'd ask if you wanted t' come see her again, only it's still raining real hard."

"Oh my!" Milani exclaims, round-eyed. "That's a full schedule like in a Pass ..." she blows out a breath, shakes her head. "I suppose there's something to be said for readiness ... I mean, I sort of specialize in it myself, but keeping caverns ready for things is different than wings." She pipes down, listening and nods a few times. "So she's got a lot of energy?" Another smile. "GOod luck for her first flight then, Kai." A look tilted outside. "That's what raincoats are for."

"Yeah," he agrees dryly, "Just like we learned about in history class." That's him, living history every day. More klah goes down the hatch, and he nods. "Yeah. She's still real small - you remember? One of th' smallest dragons at Fort. But she's always going. Well, when she ain't asleep. She's out there now, making friends with anyone as'll look at her." She says 'raincoat' and his eyebrows rise, but he gamely makes as though to shove back his chair. "You don't got to. She's trying t' get... shells, what's his name? Wyeth? T' talk t' her. Think he's sleeping, though."

"It's only been four turns ..." Millie says quietly and runs a finger down the outside of her mug, expression gone thoughtful. Up come her eyes again though and she nods. "I do remember. She's a sweetheart. Petite. Cute." The headwoman's head shakes. "If she's busy making friends, it can wait. Besides, you'd probably like to stay dry for a while. And Wy/ae/th," she elaborates the longer sound. "N'thei's bronze. He's not all that keen on foreigners, though maybe he'd make an exception for someone as precious as she seems to be."

B'kaiv's not going to argue four turns, but, "Unless there's another comet or something, I ain't never gonna have t' be ready for Thread. Grandkids, neither." Ergo, history. When she turns him down he nods and settles again, has more klah. "Yeah, that's it. Wyaeth. She ain't never met him, but she likes him plenty. Says they're gonna cuddle in th' sun t'gether." Dry, that: there's no sun to cuddle in, and wouldn't be even if it weren't bucketing. "N'thei... Weren't he th' Weyrleader, or something? Couple turns ago, before Iovniath?"

"Faranth willing, there won't be," Milani agrees and blows out another breath, lets the subject of history drop. "Wow. Cuddle. Wyaeth. I'd pay good marks to see that," the headwoman says laughingly. "Wyaeth didn't even cuddle /Teonath/," Millie proclaims with a little tilt of her head and fingers thread through her hair making a support for her head. "Yes," simply, quietly and there's a flicker of something complex that's tinged heavily with sadness in her expression, the tone of her voice. "He was Satiet's last Weyrleader."

B'kaiv says, "Yeah, but she were a -gold-," like that means something. "Peirith don't cuddle. Elaruth does, sort of, but she's only being polite." Perhaps he catches that note, that flicker, for the big man cocks his head and finishes his klah in a couple of swallows. "Sorry. I should get them letters - where'd you say I'm s'posed t' take 'em?"

"Depends on the gold, but .. .knowing Satiet and Tiriana both, I don't imagine that either of their dragons were and are the cuddling type," Milani says quietly. "But I meant more that Wyaeth's not ... cuddly. N'thei's not cuddly either, for that matter either. But he is a good friend." She looks up at Kai and laughs. "Here, I'll walk you and we can stop talking about things that are sad, depressing and recently refreshed in Reaches' memory." She takes a few more swigs from her mug, then gets to her feet, reaching for the pitcher. "We'll just cut through the kitchens to drop these off, it's not far to the postmistress' office."

And thus is B'kaiv's hypothesis proved right. For now. "If anybody can get him t' cuddle, it's Chielyth. An' I ain't interested in N'thei." He reaches down to reclaim his bag, shoves back his chair, and gets to his feet in three easy steps. "Yeah - thanks. You don't got t' go with. Didn't mean t' make you work again. This ain't nothing exciting like looking at chairs." Ah, so he -does- remember her.

Taking the pitcher, Milani just smiles over at Kai. "I'll wish her luck then. It might be interesting to see the softer side of Wyaeth. And don't worry, I didn't think you /were/ interested in N'thei. It's ... not really something to bring up around him though," slantwise look of warning towards him. "Oh it's not work to walk you anywhere, B'kaiv!" Cheery again as Millie steps off towards the kitchen first. "Chairs ... have their up and down sides," she claims with a hint of mischief in her eyes, but into the kitchen they go and it's light chatter through there, for dropping off crockery and then a little bit of a tour of the corridors in between, some things pointed out before there's the post-mistress' door. The other letters are tucked into Millie's office for later delivery and her coat grabbed for a short visit with Chielyth, rain or no rain.

Too bad she couldn't talk to Wyaeth. Wonder if he were really sleeping? It were good to see th' Headwoman again though. Wish I could get her to talk to T'rev about how much drilling we do. Bet he'd listen to her, pretty as she is.

$n'thei, #wing-flint, $wyaeth, milani, $sulisah

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