Gramps's cooking show.
RL Date: 6/6/09
IC Date: 12/11/19
A rest day in common with cold, cold rain coming down in sheets again and the promise of snow later as the temperature slowly drops at Fort, finds T'rev making good on his promise to Jaeyi made earlier in the seven to take her to Nerat to meet his grandfather and bake with him. Of course this also means a very pleasant morning wakeup, long and slow without the pressure of drills or a shift in the kitchens to hustle either out of bed. "We should get goin'," T'rev drawls out, pressing a kiss to the baker's shoulder as he tries to figure out how to get his feet unwound from the sheets and a random fold of the blankets. "S'already after lunch over yonder."
"Does that mean I have to come out?" asks Jaeyi, who only realizes that her shoulder's come out from under the covers when a kiss hits it, warm where she'd kind of gotten accustomed to the difference between warm-and-cozy skin and slightly-exposed skin. There's a little sigh at the prospect, presently way too well bundled to remember that it's going to be warm where she's going-- plus awesome cooking lessons-- and the blankets batten down a little more firmly beneath her ankles and palms. "Can't Nerat just come here instead?" Make it so!
"Mmmhm. Have to eventually," T'rev drawls out with a little chuckle. "Unless y'know, you want to wait another seven until the next rest-day and just spend /all/ day here in bed with me," the bronzerider says to that shoulder, warm breath teasing along skin. His arm tightens a bit around her waist. "Given what Mec's tellin' me is pretty nasty weather out there." He squints towards the weyr's entryway, though he can't really see through the curtain that's drawn across it. "Won't be out in it for long though and on the other side, there's all that lovely tropical Nerat warmth and Gramps' kitchen and gettin' to poke fun at me for the bumpkin way I grew up," the bronzerider teases her fondly, thumb tracing little random patterns against her stomach.
Jaeyi curls into T'rev in a way that is not at all conducive to getting out of bed any time soon, not as much to look at since ninety percent of the surface area of her person is completely covered by that quilt. "I accept that Mecaith needs to share these things with you," she mumbles about the weather, flattens her hand across his to stop that whole tickling-belly thing. "But you don't need to share with me, mmmn?" Though she does kind of catch at the blanket around then, starts to pull it handful by handful until her air-hole widens and her head'll probably pop out in a minute here. "The bumpkin thing, though..." Good selling point.
"Have to be honest y'know, prepare you for what's ahead," T'rev notes very earnestly though there's still a touch of humor in his voice. "Unless you'd rather I lied n' said it was gorgeous out," the bronzerider continues. His hand flattens in place, splaying out across soft skin as Jaeyi starts to unwind from the nest of blankets. "Mmhm. You know. My backwoods upbringin' including my bedroom in the hayloft," T'rev notes, something almost sly in both voice and the quality of his smile.
"I wouldn't hold it against you," Jaeyi promises, pushing static-crackling hair out of her face once she surfaces. "One little waaarrrm," where she lifts the edge of the blanket and scoots with it, folding it over and around T'rev so he's sort of obligated to move into her quilt-den, "white lie never killed anyone." Still, she's joined the rest of the world, and now she's blinking to clear away the super-cozy haze. "Oohh, a bedroom in the hayloft, even. Gosh, I certainly can't imagine what we'd do up there, you naughty li'l hillbilly." She shucks his chin, laughing at that slyness.
"Mmm. Might hold it gainst myself though," T'rev says with a laugh and does indeed snuggle into the warmth she just left behind, head dropping down even to breathe in where her head just lay. "I like waking up like this," he mumbles into the pillow case, half a smile and one twinkling eye visible over the pillow's curve. "Shared quarters, but yeah, you know, great place to hang out," T'rev says, wickedness sneaking into his expression. That touch to his chin sees him dipping his head to kiss her palm, then it's his turn to push back covers and slide out of them, coming to sit upright beside her. Both arms lift, stretching above his head and he yawns, scrubs a hand through his hair. "Right. Quick wash-off first, though we can go swimmin' too, if you fancy the beach atall," the bronzerider notes and pushes to his feet, brazenly crossing towards the bathing room in nothing but his birthday suit, as usual.
Jaeyi hangs out on the end of the bed for a little while longer, leaning back on her hands to enjoy the free T'rev Crossing the Room Show. Even a satisfied little, "Mmmmmmn," right before he passes out of sight. She's not so far behind him, though her bathing ritual requires the combing of her hair first, 'cause otherwise it's just a nightmare to deal with once it's wet and tangled. "Busy day. Cooking, swimming, 'hanging out' in a hayloft," she comments approvingly in the process, managing to get through the process of tidying up with a very minimal amount of climbing all over him.
Morning bathtime: also much more fun with Jaeyi around. Even when the climbing all over is minimal. T'rev's own ablutions don't take much time: a quick scrub down, a shave and a brush run through those curls of his that /really really really/ need that trim now. He grins over his shoulder at her after checking his reflection in the little mirror above his sink. "Busy n' fun," he drawls out an answer, though his gaze is roving over again with the usual combination of lust and affection. All done getting cleaned up, he reaches over to snag her about the waist again, to offer a nibble or two for her earlobe and a kiss for her cheek before he pads into the weyr again to dress. Layers are de rigeur with lighter things underneath the more serious, 'we're going out in the freezing rain' stuff.
Yeah, Jaeyi's not exactly prepared for all the crap that's expected of people going out in the weather. Plus, it's not like she really packed or anything. So she's got all her things collected and folded over her arm, only occasionally distracted by watching or kissing or nibbling or-- well, whatever their normal morning routines might be, it's all interrupted with things like a busy nuzzle of that clean shave, a happy report about the smells-like-soap, et cetera. Anyway, she is eventually dressed, aside from shoes and socks which she sits on the edge of the bed to accomplish, though it better be a /short/ trip from here to there.
"Here's for the trip," T'rev offers, pulling a sweater out of one of his drawers. It's not orange or red at least, but a very tasteful charcoal gray. "And there's a spare jacket too, need a scarf and a hat ... if you don't mind wearin' something a little bright for just the trip over," he notes, moving about to collect such things for her, he's sorting through his little collection of handwarming gear for a pair of mittens for her, given the unlikelihood of gloves actually fitting when he remarks casually: "Y'know ... if you'd like, there's space in that bottom drawer." Beat. "For some of your things." A breath as he walks over, holding out a pair of fluffy orange mittens. "If you like."
Orange? Really? Wait-- drawer? That at least keeps Jaeyi from blinking at the mittens like they're about to infect her with some weird, orange-woolen disease. "Why do you have orange mittens?" she asks abruptly; otherwise, that pause would get too long and she'd just sit there blinking aimlessly. She collects the pair of them, the sweater, the scarf, all that happy knitted stuff laid across her lap for a second before she starts pulling things on the appropriate parts of herself. Not that she's stalling but-- yeah, she is. At least her hair's still damp so it won't get all crackly static when the sweater pulls on.
"They were Gay's. Telgar's Weyrwoman," T'rev says lightly enough. "She was my mentor when I was a weyrling. She died a few days after I transferred here." There's a faint touch of sadness in the bronzerider's face, but maybe Jaeyi might understand that he's not lending these to her lightly. "And I like orange. And rusty red. And red. Warm colors," the bronzerider says with a warm grin. While she finishes dressing, he possibly breaks that pause from being awkward by stepping out into the wallow to get Mecaith's straps on and when Jaeyi comes out, he'll have put on his own cap, scarf and gloves and both he and the bronze sit in the weyrmouth looking out at that disgusting fall of cold rain. Mecaith is sanguine. T'rev merely looks pained as if the rain is somehow, a personal affront. "Damn weather," he mutters under his breath.
Yeah, the significance impresses upon Jaeyi, evidenced in the brief sympathy that twinges her expression. Mind, once his back is turned, she's still eyeing them like they're just plain old orange and not sentimentally orange. "I feel like sherbet," she reports on stepping out to meet him, running a hand down the scarf and patting the top of the borrowed hat. But her teeth aren't immediately chattering, which is a good sign! "And think of it this way." Passing carefully, peering at the dismal downpour; "At least when it's pouring buckets, you don't have to feel quite as lazy and deviant when all you wanna do is stay in bed with me all day. Opposed to the bright and sunny days, when you know full well you could be accomplishing things." There, with a smile as cheerful as the weather is not.
"You look good enough to eat," is the requisite line and T'rev reaches out to thread an arm around her. "If it's any comfort, I don't feel lazy or deviant atall about stayin' in with you, regardless of the weather. If I'm with you, I'm with you. It's just that it's less likely anybody'll be lookin' for either of us when the weather's like this," a little nod outward and he smiles over at the baker. "Ready to face it for all of a few minutes before we go Between and get to peel all this off again?" Mecaith whuffs once, lowly and sticks his snout out of the entryway, rain splashing across his hide. Apparently the dragon at least, is keen to /go/ already. "He's goin' to fly the palisades while we're cookin'," T'rev explains.
Jaeyi makes a face. Sentimental. "While /we're/ cooking?" She gives T'rev a highly doubtful once-over, shoves an orange-mittened hand in his, and follows it up with a deep, bracing-herself breath. "No, but apparently Nerat won't come to me," she answers, just a little lingering sulk over leaving all that warmth under the quilt. "So. Let's. Before he decides to run off and leave us." The sight of Mecaith, getting his snout wet on purpose, leaves her no further fortified but at least a little entertained.
"Okay, while you're cookin' and I'm lounging around waitin' to eat all your hard work," T'rev jokes, expression merry. "Unless y'all decide to just plain kick me out of the kitchen, in which case I'll be on the porch keepin' my cousins busy with tall tales," the bronzerider continues. That answer about readiness earns another grin and T'rev aims to gather her near, plant a kiss on her mouth. "If I could, I would bring it. As it is, best I can do is Between, which is at least quick, if not much fun," he notes and turns to help her up onto the dragon's back.
On the heels of that kiss, on her way up-- hindered because she's not used to using mittens for more than taking trays out of ovens-- Jaeyi shares a highly amused grin. "I knew a man once at Boll like that. Quick if not much fun." Settled, tucking down her skirts in a way that would look quite proper for most girls, but very clearly is just not about freezing off her knees for this girl in particular, she ducks down into her bundle of attire, waiting for the inevitable freezing horror that's going to get her to Nerat.
Climbing up behind her, T'rev reaches into Mecaith's packs to pull a blanket out and wraps it around both of them. Apparently, he's not too keen about all that wet stuff out there either. "Yeah? If I hear it told rightly, most men're like that. We're a sorry lot," the bronzerider quips, deadpan, then warns: "Here we go." And so they do, Mecaith pushing himself fast out of the weyr and off the ledge in a single, nimble bound. His wings lift them up and up quickly and as soon as they've cleared the Rim, T'rev gives the word to go Between. Freezing horror gives way to warmth. Wet warmth. So not fair. It's raining over Nerat too, though at least it's not cold, half-freezing rain. "Ah shit," T'rev cusses from behind the baker, then he bursts out laughing as Mecaith cruises in over the road, using it as a landing guide, though he banks a little to the right and cuts into a damp, grassy clearing with a tall tree at one end of it, behind a long, L-shaped building that overlooks the road. "We're here," the bronzerider announces gaily enough.
The usual. Though she appreciates Mecaith's quickness, a hand pressing into the hide beneath her, Jaeyi's will to thank him gets stuck somewhere between icy cold rain and sensory deprivation. That's what leaves her clinging to T'rev's arms in the end, the muffle of his layers and her mittens enough to keep her fingers from biting too hard. A shaking exhale greets this side of the world, one that's utterly and completely relieved. "How long does it take to fly from here to Fort?" she asks in a little voice, one that breaks into a laugh at his cursing the weather. "I don't even care. It feels so damn good." To get hit in the face with drops that aren't killing-her-cold. Just enough time to get the lay of the land, then we're-here and she's pushing her way toward the ground as quickly as she ever has, shedding her sherbet gear post haste.
Those arms do close around Jaeyi comfortingly, T'rev as always lending his presence as a rock to cling to against the unpleasantness of Between. "Uhm, two days with a break," he notes about the cross-country journey. "Not sure which you'd hate more, bein' in the air that long or the seconds Between." He's sympathetic at least, even if he's long since inured to that icy touch. On the ground, he's quick out of his gear too and holding out a hand to her to lead the way. "C'mon, we can string this stuff up to dry inside and yeah, you're right, warm rain ... well it can be nice."
Jaeyi misses the hand for a few seconds, absorbed in being somewhere that isn't cold, with rain that isn't icy, and grass that hasn't died of frost yet, and peeling off outer layers without her teeth chattering. By the time she collects herself again, takes a breath that fills up all the way with the smell of warm humidity, T'rev's hand will have waited a solid half-minute. Then, quickly smoothing a hand down her hair, drying it with a swipe over her hips, she laces her fingers to his. "I'm very excited about this." And, now that the travel is done taking its toll on her, the bright eyes bouncing steps have come out for the afternoon.
It's a good thing T'rev's a generally patient sort and that Jaeyi makes a pretty picture standing in the rain enjoying the feel of it. "Good. I hope it goes really well," the bronzerider says sincerely. "Gramps is all kinds of curious. I mean, not that he ain't met bakers before but ... well, you know, you're my friend and all." Her fingers thread through his and his through hers and off they go a-bouncy stepping across the wet grass to the backdoor of the station. Inside there's a foyer sort of space and then it opens up into the kitchen already where there's the sounds of voices all heavy with that backwoods Nerat drawl, punctuated by chopping and the like and the scents of good things cooking.
"I am determined that it will." There's a lot of general peering around, being nosy and curious without bothering to hide it. Jaeyi will, at this point, tolerate no further delays, no matter how many she managed to create so far this morning-- afternoon. An imperious flip of her fingers urges on toward the kitchen, the joined hands doing less to lead her along than to keep her from just wandering off and making her own introductions, already mentally slotted in to the business before her. She was bright and cheerful for meeting the Terrivs, but this, pardon the expression, takes the cake.
"Then it probably will be," T'rev notes indulgently as they move forward into that busy kitchen. THere's squeals of delight promptly though, from a cluster of .. aunts? cousins? Women ranging in age from older teen to early thirties and one slightly older than that. Foosh. Welcome to T'rev's family as knives and spoons are set down and the rider is passed from hug to hug to hug and showered with questions about how he is, how the weyr is, how his daughter is doing and ohmywhoisthis? Which leads to: "Y'all, this is Jaeyi, apprentice baker at the Weyr," with a pleased gleam in brown eyes. Just outside all that hubbub, an older man with thinning gray hair and a goatee looks up from the kneading of dough, brown eyes ducking through the crowd of women to find Jaeyi herself. That must be Gramps.
Which leaves Jaeyi to busily return a flurry of hellos, hello, yes, it is nice to meet you, handshakes and cheek-kisses and a general effusiveness undimmed by bashfulness or reticence. Divested of damp things, fussed over and drowning under a barrage of names that she'll probably never remember later, she finds a moment to notice the only one not sucked into the crowd, to pause in a dramatic rendition of the horrible storm at Fort to hold those old-brown-eyes a second with a quick, beaming nod. She will manage to extricate herself shortly, if T'rev's not going to do it for her, but she's too eagerly polite to just blow off the aunties and cousins.
He lets them have a bit of their flutter, T'rev does, but then he's reaching for Jae's hand again. "C'mon y'all, let me do proper introductions to Gramps. C'mon Jae, this here's my grandpa, Veiran. But everybody calls him Gramps." More laughter and giggles as the crowd partially traipses along, partially heads off to get back to work. Veiran wipes floury hands on his apron as the pair near and extends one well-browned and wrinkled one to the baker. "Jaeyi. Heard a bunch 'bout you. Welcome to Big Tree and m'kitchen. M'glad T'rev's finally found it in him t'bring you along like he's been sayin'." After the handshake, warm, firm and floury from the older man, there's a flick of eyes up to the bronzerider. "C'mere son, give us a hug, then hare off like a good lad n' get me them peaches, yeah?" T'rev does as he's bidden, giving his grandfather a back-slappingly effusive hug, before retreating with a wink for Jaeyi. "Don't wear him out before you get started." And it's only been minutes, but any efforts the bronzerider's made to flatten out his accent have gone sliding away and his voice is thick with the local drawl.
Jaeyi may have issues with authority from time to time, certainly has a threadbare respect for the journeyman at Fort, but it's strictly cordial, respectful eagerness that returns a warm handshake, heedless of flour. Story of her life. "Sir. I am very glad to meet you, and thank you so much for letting me come." She only makes a face at T'rev's quip, chases him off with a look. He's lost a battle with his accent, and she's lost the on-display polish, so apparently getting out of Fort's relaxing both ways. There's no flaunt, no flirt, just; "How many people are you feeding?" With a look at the bustle of the surroundings.
"Ain't a problem, we welcome guest all the time, after all," Gramps says good naturedly and gestures to his dough. "Lemme get this set to risin', then we'll haul out the goods for makin' that cake. T'rev says it's a favorite of yours and he ain't one to lie, but is that the case?" he asks, smiling. "Was my wife's y'see, always think 'bout her when I make it. Bit of a family tradition y'might say," he continues as he turns back to his dough, kneading with the easy motions of one long-practiced at this task. T'rev's off in the storage room somewhere, fishing out the basket of peaches, which leaves Gramps free to answer further: "Got ten stayin' on tonight and a couple of the holders are comin' down if the rain stops enough so the roads ain't all mud. Could be more comin' in out of the rain later on. They tend to stop 'round supper time if they're gonna. It's been clear days except for today, so lots of movement on the roads. There's the family too, 'course. So should be twenty to thirty all told this evenin'."
"It was. I'm from Boll?" As if that should mean something? "So peaches are sort of a staple fruit. Anything anyone could do to make them a little less not-again was a standard summer competition, and I think I would have won with that cake." Which is a long and complicated way of saying it was the bestest peach cake that Jaeyi ever ate. "It's very generous to share a family tradition, thank you." While he goes on to speculate about the population, she nods along about the weather and the roads like she has the first clue, staying out of the way but still at an observable angle. "If there is anything I can do, please put me to work? I am... generally competent, and prefer helping to being underfoot. Apron?"
"Ah, Boll sure. T'other side of T'rev's family's from Boll. Kinda funny how those two sides came together," Gramps notes with a little laugh as he finishes up the kneading. Her remarks earn a lift of canny brown eyes to her face but Veiran only smiles. "Glad to pass it on really. In hopes of more folks enjoyin' that flavor." He nods though towards the swinging doors that lead into what's presumably the waystation's main room. "Whyn't you go set your wet things out there on a coupla chairs to dry. Come back and aprons're over yonder," a jerk of his chin to the hook where many a simple canvas apron hangs. "There's some already risen dough in that there bowl to punch down and set to a second risin'," he informs. And where's T'rev? Distracted by cousins maybe?
Jaeyi, to clarify, "It's different, with 'bakers.'" Quotes in the air. "There are more... jealously guarded secrets? People don't share their very best recipes, because what if someone does them better, then they're not /your/ specialties and-- it's all very political and silly." She opens her hands helplessly, then she's off to discard damp things, to liberate a ribbon from her pocket to secure her hair in a knot that simply wouldn't do at Fort, being nowhere near pristine, to find an apron that suits. Quickly rinsed hands later, she's quite happily at work. "I also happen to really like peaches," by the way. "So it was an easy sell."
"Hmm. Guess I'll be glad I ain't a baker then," Gramps says with easy jolliness, "though in the end, any baker his or her salt knows there's more t'makin' anything than just a recipe," the old man notes as he turns the dough one more time. "You got to put your heart into it." A little nod there as she steps off to deal with her things. He's done with the kneading when she comes back and sweeping the counter free of that initial coating of flour, tidying up the workspace and getting out new bowls and jars for making that cake. "They've got something about 'em, don't they, peaches? Softer'n an apple, sweeter'n a nectarine, and the smell ..." he winks over at Jaeyi and dusts his hands off again on his apron. Just then another set of doors on the other side of the kitchen swing open and T'rev comes in bearing the basket under one arm, his hand claimed by a small person on the other side. "... so then he said, 'You got that right!' and it never happened again," the bronzerider concludes one of his stories to much giggling from the boy he's walking with. "Here y'all go," he drawls out, leaning to settle the basket down. "Don't look none the worse for sittin' around in the storage for a few days, should be good t'go on that there cake. Got something realy simple for me n' Bairy here to do, or should we shove off t'go count raindrops or somethin' on the porch?" Gramps considers the pair for a moment, then gestures outward. "Go count them there raindrops, young fellas. We'll be just fine in here."
Jaeyi kind of... yeah, agrees via expression with Gramps's assertion about being glad he ain't a baker, not necessarily a fate she'd foist off on anyone else. But peaches-- "They always taste like summer, to me." Which will hopefully make more sense to someone speaking a similar language. "Only, the nice parts of summer, not the awful mid-afternoons where everyone's all wilting in the heat. Plus, they're a really pretty fruit," she adds, eyeing the basket of fruit like it's full of birthday presents all for her. A quick smile, a quick bend of a busy hand acknowledges T'rev but the old man called it well; she'll be just fine in here.
"That they do," Gramps agrees with Jaeyi about the peaches and waves T'rev and Bairy off some more. The bronzerider salutes his grandfather and though Jaeyi's only waving at him, he pauses to drop a kiss to her cheek, murmurs a fond: "Have fun," to her then heads off with his young cousin to go wreak havoc on the porch and likely collect more young cousins, thrilled to have their rider relation in town to tell them stories and liven up what's otherwise likely a dull-ish afternoon stuck indoors for some. Of course, there could also be mud sliding and puddle jumping in the offing, but what the grown-ups don't know, won't hurt them, right? Back to the baking. "Dunno that the wilting part's so bad either, somethin' to be said for sittin' in the porch swing with a glass of lemonade just watchin' life go by on days like that," Gramps notes philosophically. "And they're real decorative, yeah." The basket is nodded to though. "Sort through 'em, prep 'em. leave the peels on if you want a little tooth to it. Otherwise, peel." And he resumes pulling things out, setting up for the next step. He's done before she is and joins in the task of peach prep, including the removal of pits.
Jaeyi, chattily, "I always liked grapes more than peaches for those times, they always seem colder. Wetter, I suppose." Hands dusted, she fishes around a little till she comes up with a knife and a good-sized bowl, sets to work on the peaches with a running commentary on which fruits seem to go best with which particular times of day, types of weather, the prettiest blends for fruit salad, picking the old man's brains as much as offering up her opinion. She peels most of the peaches, leaves only a few just to mess with people's heads, and only steals a few bites off the knife along the way.
"Refreshing," Gramps agrees with the grape assessment and joins in the peeling and cutting, hands sure with his own knife. Kiwis are another favorite of his and deep red cherries. Eventually the basket is dealt with, the few leftovers ... left over and it's over to the bowls and things where the old man leans against the counter and points to each ingredient in turn. "That much of that, that much of this," goes the patter, leading Jaeyi through the making of the batter. There's a point where there's eggwhites to beat into a fluff, which might explain that lightness to the baked end product, though it's not so much that it's an angel food cake. "All right, secret to really kickin' it up is the pinch of cream of tartar and puttin' a bit of nutmeg in the batter as well as a sprinkle on the fruit. Coat the fruit up like in a pie, helps to bind the flavors together." The oven's been on all day already so there's no need to pre-heat once the batter's mixed, just pointers about using a nice deep pan.
Surprised, Jaeyi briefly floats her fingers a few centimeters above her lips, which purse thoughtfully at the list of ingredients, particularly the secret parts. Like, how could she not have caught that? "I had thought there was a cheat to it," she confesses mid-pour, an apology in the revelation. "That you were using peach liqueur or some extract that was pretending very well." Tap-to-temple, scrape of bowl, et voila. All ready for the oven.
"Liqueur'd make it too soggy," Gramps notes, "'sides, you want them little bits of fruit in there," he says with a wink and dips a finger into leftover batter to have a taste. "Mm. All right then, off into the oven, good center position. It's a pretty decent one we've got, cakes go on the side there," he points to the brick wall that makes up the oven, coals and logs able to be stuck in under the main portions. "Takes about an hour t'bake off. In the meantime we can make more bread, or I can send you off after my grandson. Bet he's wantin' to give you a ... tour," and there's a bit of a mischievous light in the old man's eyes.
Oh gee, bake bread-- which has never, not once, not in seven-or-eight months, turned out well for Jaeyi-- or go take a tour. Not that Gramps can be expected to know about her shortcomings in the bread department, but she's quite content to untie the apron about then, saying with a crinkle of her nose, "If it's all the same? I don't-- bread and I are not good friends, and I have a feeling you're going to want yours to be edible." She pauses, either to wait to actually be released or just to peer into the oven for a second there with a brief, eager smile for the outcome.
"Really? Bread problems?" Gramps is already starting to clean up again, motions sure, steady and slow. "What usually happens when y'try t'make bread?" the old man asks as he scrapes the counter free of lingering flour. The cake in the oven only shows signs of slight bubbles at the top so far. It'll be a little bit before it even needs any turning.
"Honestly?" Or the myriad excuses? "I don't like doing it, so I don't bother paying attention. And now it's just..." Jaeyi, lips pursed thoughtfully, keeps an eye on the cake in a way that defies the never-boils adage. "Now it's finally just become accepted that I'm not going to do it right, so no one asks me to do it any more. Only took-- seven months? Give or take. Which is, I know, not the greatest example of a work ethic, but I bust my tail most of the time." E.g., she's in someone else's kitchen on her rest day.
"What don't y'like about it?" Gramps asks next, bowls piled in the sink, water flipped on and he starts to placidly wash the dirtied items. Nothing much seems to ruffle him, which might explain a thing or two about his grandson. "Seven months? Either you're really stubborn or they are," he notes with a slight teasing quality to his voice. Washing. Suds. Rinsing. "Ain't questioning your work ethic, though it does seem y'know, like the kind of thing a baker might want to be able t'really get right."
After a brief cast of her eyes toward the ceiling, a touch thoughtful, Jaeyi answers, "Pretty much all of it. Bread's not pretty or memorable and very rarely the best part of any meal." On the scale the Weyr'd be calling for, anyway. "Oh, I'm sure I /can/ do it, I understand how it's done and I can read a recipe. I just don't want to. And, really, if a person's got a talent for doing something, and they happen to like it, why not just let them do that?"
"I find makin' bread to be relaxing," Gramps replies, setting a bowl into the rack to dry, moving on with the next. "It's sort of the old standby to come back to between other things," he muses still, tilts a look over at Jaeyi, nods. "I'm sure y'can to. And could be, that's a good enough reason to do it. Even if there's plenty of bread-bakers at that Weyr there." Gramps smiles slowly, nods his head once. "Anyway, that's my take on it. Maybe somethin' to think about. But go on now, porch is right on through them doors and on. Kids're probably crawlin' all over T'rev."
Jaeyi, by comparison, "I like making pie, for a stand-by. Like, that's the thing I could do in my sleep at this point and still kinda enjoy it." To each his own? "But I will think about, yes. And thank you for the advice." She smiles at him without the eyeroll that would normally accompany someone trying to tell her what to do with herself, gives the cake a last look on her way by, and follows through-them-doors. Heroically, she means to save T'rev from having kids crawl all over him, failing in a small way to comprehend that not everyone would sooner ignore them than enjoy them.
Gramps watches her go, grinning for the check on the cake and sets another clean bowl in the rack. The clink of dishes accompanies Jaeyi through the doors. Outside, the rain still falls in a light patter, but that doesn't stop the merry carousing on the porch, or the pair of shorts-only-clad kids just beyond it, jumping up and down in a puddle getting all muddy. T'rev is indeed, crawling with kids, one on his back another tucked under his arm as he chases them around the porch, making raar noises. Somewhere along the way he lost most of his clothes and is down to shorts himself, grinning ear to ear, clearly quite at home with playing 'the fun uncle/cousin' type. As soon as Jaeyi appears there's another rush of voices, this time childish ones, clamoring as a pair of them bum rush her to 'come play bein' a crazy wher with us.' Oh dear.
The whole bit is just charming enough that Jaeyi doesn't interrupt, that she leans in the doorway a minute to indulge a little voyeurism-- that is, until there are kids coming her way and she hurriedly takes a step back into the foyer like a doorjamb is enough to protect her from a bum-rushing. "Nooooo no no nonono," is the rapid-fire response to that. "I can't. I'm not allowed to play, I'll get in trouble. But /you/ play, and I'll stay here and watch. Yes?" This would have to be a rare moment when she hasn't got so much as a peppermint in her pocket to distract them with!
Oh the pouting. Oh the puppy dog eyes and T'rev laughs, turning his armful of kid upside down onto the porch-swing giggling, though he can't quite reach the little burr on his back. "Ain't allowed? Awww, that ain't no fun," he tells her and comes forward, holding up his hands in mock-crazy-wher fashion. "Raar, comin' t'get you, raaar!" which makes the kid on his back laugh like crazy and there's a whole bunch of jostling out of the way to see what T'rev's going to do when he catches Jaeyi, because of course he's going to, right?
What Jaeyi mouths is a very clear 'I hate you.' Right before she feigns a terrified scream, darts from the doorway, and 'hides,' kneeling down on the far side of a patio chair over the arm of which she daringly peeks every few seconds. Oh, her precious dignity.
T'rev shoots Jaeyi a big round-eyed 'whaaaat?' type look and then goes chasing after. "Where'd Jaeyi go? Hidin' from the big ole meanie wher!" he exclaims which occasions more laughter, pointing to the right spot and so on. The kid on his back is finally dislodged, set down on another chair and finally T'rev goes diving after the baker, with twinkling eyes, aiming to scoop her up into his arms. "Mua ha! I got her and I'm carryin' her off to my den!"
Jaeyi's "Oh no!" wouldn't even fly in a junior high school play, but then neither would a captive that makes no further effort to run and whose sole attempt to escape consists of a few light-landing blows. Also, captives shouldn't do more smirking than weeping, especially while supposedly railing, "Whatever will become of me."
There's brow-waggling then from T'rev for that. "You can only imagine!" he declares as he keeps on walking towards the far end of the porch. Laughter follows after, but the kids don't. It's possible, given what T'rev's said about the station that they're wise to what's likely coming next and shortly the sound of a different game starting up echoes off the porch even as the bronzerider moves down the steps, crosses out into the rain briefly to duck into the stables. "My lair," he says with quirky humor on his face and then jerks a chin towards the steps that lead up to the loft. "And that bedroom I was talkin' about. They all sleep up there now of course. The kids. Wasn't a bad way t'grow up really."
Jaeyi will check back over T'rev's shoulder for any tag-alongs before doing anything lascivious to his ear-- which stops abruptly as they actually have walked into a hayloft. "You actually really did sleep in the barn," she says with sudden amusement, looking up the stairs with a very readable expression: she wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't seen it with her own two eyes. "I mean," clearing her throat. "What a fearsome lair you have here."
T'rev shifts the baker a little in his arms for a safer grip as he heads up those stairs, casts her an amused grin. "Yeah, I really did," he tells her and bends his head to return, briefly some lascivious favors to her ear in turn. "Mhmm. Very fearsome. All full of ... hay. And stuff." At the top of those steps, it's a hayloft. With you know, some hay in it, though most of one end is taken up by cots, most of them just singles, but there's two bunks too. The bedding on each is different and the area around them is decorated. One has a tent erected over it. "Heh, that must be Bairy's, he's really into tents right now," T'rev says of his cousin with a fond grin and then moves over to a cot tucked up against one wall. "This was mine. Evra's got this one now. She'll be twelve next month and is thinkin' about tryin' for bein' an apprentice at the beastcraft."
Through a laugh that's a little breath-catchy for things being done to her ear, Jaeyi says, "I almost feel bad about calling you a bumpkin, now that it's true." The 'almost' is the important part there. "So here's where little Trev," still hard to say it that way, "spent his formative nights. In a barn." She's still overly amused by the literal truth of it, one arm shifting so she can give overly long curls a brief finger-comb. "No wonder."
"Complete and total truth," T'rev says mostly seriously, about being a bumpkin and smiles down at her as her hand travels through his hair. "Listenin' to stories and the other kids laughin' and playin' games under the covers after lights out. "Or y'know, sometimes, other things. Sometimes the folks stayin' here don't realize there's a whole passel of kids sleepin' up in the loft," he says candidly, humor dancing in his eyes. "'Course, it ain't really somethin' anyone gets much fussed about here," he notes further and drops his lips to her cheek, nose nuzzling a little. "You got to rush back after that cake or ...?"
Jaeyi kind of manages to smooth his hair down a little, kind of, although why bother? Considering. "Didn't anyone ever think to, mmmn, give away your presence? Cough or sneeze or something?" Her eyes close at the nuzzling and stay that way despite the grin that surfaces; "T'rev, you're hardly wearing anything, we're in a hayloft, for goodness sake, and I'm reasonably sure that your grandfather's capable of making sure that cake comes out of the oven on time. 'Or' is a lot likelier than rushing back, hmn?"
"Worse. Sometimes we'd drop hay or ... y'know someone would pee off the edge of the loft," T'rev says with barely contained humor. "Kids y'know. Ain't always /kind/." He chuckles lowly at her answer and walks a little further back along the loft, ducking around the bales to where there's an extra cot, currently bare of sheets. "Thought I'd give you the option, given how excited you were 'bout that cake," T'rev says quite sincerely, even as he bends to rest her down on that mattress and follows after to make 'or' a hopefully happy reality. All those little cousins better be wise enough not to come in after and drop any stinkbombs. Or worse.
"/Mean,/" is Jaeyi's assessment of that, her way having been a lot less cruel to the unsuspecting people doing nothing more harmful than... well, what she and T'rev wind up doing presently. "It's," she realizes at a vaguely inopportune moment, certainly one that's not usually reserved for lucidity, "kind of like having my cake and eating it, too. Or-- having my cake." Where a delighted gasp praises him for whatever it is he just did to her. "And baking it too." Which realization has her smothering giggles in his neck. And there better be no stinkbombs, 'cause Jaeyi was raised with a switch, remember.
"Sometimes," T'rev murmurs for 'mean' and then he's duly absorbed in making her gasp and more. And any commentary about cake just means his eyes are flashing disbelief at her and his hands are doing what they do best, efforts re-doubled to drive thoughts of cake out of her head for now. Smart kids. No stinkbombs. No interruptions either. A happy, sweaty, still rain-damp T'rev curls in close in the after math, a stray stalk or three of hay clinging to his hair and another stuck to the curve of his hip. He's looking down at Jaeyi with one of his more thoughtful expressions, brown eyes on her face, one hand propping up his head, the other wandering along the edge of her shoulder. Tenderly.
Liberating little pieces of hay, locating and pinching and working them out of hair that she had smoothed at one point then messed up happily immediately afterward-- it's not the most engrossing hobby, but it serves to occupy Jaeyi for a few minutes while the haze thins. Also, much like the comment about the cake, it amuses her in a little way if gradually brightening eyes are any indicator. It takes a minute to key into T'rev's thoughtful look, to question with a smile first while she remembers how to phrase something so eloquent as, "Hmmmmn?"
Hay liberation draws a smile onto T'rev's face but he remains thoughtful, shifts his fingers to the edge of her jaw, tracing its shape. "Wanted to apologize," he says after a moment in answer to that 'hmmm'. "For -- the night with the weed. Said some stupid things," the bronzerider continues quietly, thumb finding the curve of her bottom lip, following it out to the corner of her mouth like it's the most fascinating thing in the world. "Ain't got no idea, if this ... is anything or will ever be anything different from what it is. You and me." His brow crinkles just a little and he takes a breath, goes on. "Dunno that it needs a name, even. Just -- it's good. Real good, Jae."
For a second, it's obvious that he touched a nerve there. Jaeyi's forehead creases and her mouth changes shape, and there's a little bit of her hurt feelings showing, chased away hurriedly; "It's okay. I know you didn't mean it? The way it came out." Or, well, she knows it now anyway, if the wash of relief in expression and tone is any indicator. Propping up on an elbow, quick to shake her head and kiss him at once, thumb smoothing out that line in his brows, she denies the whole worry of what it is or what it might be. "I don't want it to be different, I don't want it to change or-- it is good. And I want it to stay this way."
He can't miss it, that moment of hurt, for all it's shooed away hurriedly and there's an answering pang to be found in T'rev's eyes: he really didn't mean to hurt her. "I think I'll stick to smokin' that stuff with my grandfather," is what the bronzerider ultimately says, expression turning wry, rueful, leans into that kiss. Once he can see her face again though, he smiles once more, sunny and sweet. "Me too," is simple enough with his arm curving around her to draw her close. It's possible there might've been more talk as the rain pattered away on the roof up there, but little cousins apparently can only hold off so long, or at least, there's some that weren't out with the others and missed the whole tryst-in-the-making between the 'wher' and his 'prey'. A couple of kids therefore, come clattering up the stairs and though one of them walks right by, the elder of the two, pauses, catching sight of a bare foot dangling off the spare cot and promptly busts out laughing. T'rev's shorts, which went flying earlier are lobbed at his bare backside. "Put your pants on, Trev," comes the cheeky remark and then that girl's out of view again, accompanied by the sound of a cot creaking under a kid's stomach flop and the murmur of voices about some very important something other picks up. Fumbling to peel his shorts off his hip, T'rev leans in to kiss Jaeyi one more time. "Guess that's our signal t'head back to the kitchen n' see how Gramps is doin'."
Whisper; "This is why I hate kids." At least they served the purpose of detaching two people who notoriously have a difficult time getting on with anything other than getting-on. Dressed, not even gonna worry about where hay's sticking to her, Jaeyi catches his lips one last time before she sees herself out of the loft. To help with the cake, to feign absolutely no innocence about where she'd wandered off, to stick around for supper and whatever else winds down an evening here, and to be a little more drained on the trip home so she hasn't got the energy to whine the whole way. She has got the energy to keep T'rev company back at Fort, but it all ends with her /sleeping/ quite cozily under the quilt-- right back where she started.
"At least these kids're used to this kind of thing," T'rev says, shameless and puts his pants back on. Dinner, yes. Lots of talking and laughing, yes. And cozy sleeping, definitely yes and definitely /good/.
IC Date: 12/11/19
A rest day in common with cold, cold rain coming down in sheets again and the promise of snow later as the temperature slowly drops at Fort, finds T'rev making good on his promise to Jaeyi made earlier in the seven to take her to Nerat to meet his grandfather and bake with him. Of course this also means a very pleasant morning wakeup, long and slow without the pressure of drills or a shift in the kitchens to hustle either out of bed. "We should get goin'," T'rev drawls out, pressing a kiss to the baker's shoulder as he tries to figure out how to get his feet unwound from the sheets and a random fold of the blankets. "S'already after lunch over yonder."
"Does that mean I have to come out?" asks Jaeyi, who only realizes that her shoulder's come out from under the covers when a kiss hits it, warm where she'd kind of gotten accustomed to the difference between warm-and-cozy skin and slightly-exposed skin. There's a little sigh at the prospect, presently way too well bundled to remember that it's going to be warm where she's going-- plus awesome cooking lessons-- and the blankets batten down a little more firmly beneath her ankles and palms. "Can't Nerat just come here instead?" Make it so!
"Mmmhm. Have to eventually," T'rev drawls out with a little chuckle. "Unless y'know, you want to wait another seven until the next rest-day and just spend /all/ day here in bed with me," the bronzerider says to that shoulder, warm breath teasing along skin. His arm tightens a bit around her waist. "Given what Mec's tellin' me is pretty nasty weather out there." He squints towards the weyr's entryway, though he can't really see through the curtain that's drawn across it. "Won't be out in it for long though and on the other side, there's all that lovely tropical Nerat warmth and Gramps' kitchen and gettin' to poke fun at me for the bumpkin way I grew up," the bronzerider teases her fondly, thumb tracing little random patterns against her stomach.
Jaeyi curls into T'rev in a way that is not at all conducive to getting out of bed any time soon, not as much to look at since ninety percent of the surface area of her person is completely covered by that quilt. "I accept that Mecaith needs to share these things with you," she mumbles about the weather, flattens her hand across his to stop that whole tickling-belly thing. "But you don't need to share with me, mmmn?" Though she does kind of catch at the blanket around then, starts to pull it handful by handful until her air-hole widens and her head'll probably pop out in a minute here. "The bumpkin thing, though..." Good selling point.
"Have to be honest y'know, prepare you for what's ahead," T'rev notes very earnestly though there's still a touch of humor in his voice. "Unless you'd rather I lied n' said it was gorgeous out," the bronzerider continues. His hand flattens in place, splaying out across soft skin as Jaeyi starts to unwind from the nest of blankets. "Mmhm. You know. My backwoods upbringin' including my bedroom in the hayloft," T'rev notes, something almost sly in both voice and the quality of his smile.
"I wouldn't hold it against you," Jaeyi promises, pushing static-crackling hair out of her face once she surfaces. "One little waaarrrm," where she lifts the edge of the blanket and scoots with it, folding it over and around T'rev so he's sort of obligated to move into her quilt-den, "white lie never killed anyone." Still, she's joined the rest of the world, and now she's blinking to clear away the super-cozy haze. "Oohh, a bedroom in the hayloft, even. Gosh, I certainly can't imagine what we'd do up there, you naughty li'l hillbilly." She shucks his chin, laughing at that slyness.
"Mmm. Might hold it gainst myself though," T'rev says with a laugh and does indeed snuggle into the warmth she just left behind, head dropping down even to breathe in where her head just lay. "I like waking up like this," he mumbles into the pillow case, half a smile and one twinkling eye visible over the pillow's curve. "Shared quarters, but yeah, you know, great place to hang out," T'rev says, wickedness sneaking into his expression. That touch to his chin sees him dipping his head to kiss her palm, then it's his turn to push back covers and slide out of them, coming to sit upright beside her. Both arms lift, stretching above his head and he yawns, scrubs a hand through his hair. "Right. Quick wash-off first, though we can go swimmin' too, if you fancy the beach atall," the bronzerider notes and pushes to his feet, brazenly crossing towards the bathing room in nothing but his birthday suit, as usual.
Jaeyi hangs out on the end of the bed for a little while longer, leaning back on her hands to enjoy the free T'rev Crossing the Room Show. Even a satisfied little, "Mmmmmmn," right before he passes out of sight. She's not so far behind him, though her bathing ritual requires the combing of her hair first, 'cause otherwise it's just a nightmare to deal with once it's wet and tangled. "Busy day. Cooking, swimming, 'hanging out' in a hayloft," she comments approvingly in the process, managing to get through the process of tidying up with a very minimal amount of climbing all over him.
Morning bathtime: also much more fun with Jaeyi around. Even when the climbing all over is minimal. T'rev's own ablutions don't take much time: a quick scrub down, a shave and a brush run through those curls of his that /really really really/ need that trim now. He grins over his shoulder at her after checking his reflection in the little mirror above his sink. "Busy n' fun," he drawls out an answer, though his gaze is roving over again with the usual combination of lust and affection. All done getting cleaned up, he reaches over to snag her about the waist again, to offer a nibble or two for her earlobe and a kiss for her cheek before he pads into the weyr again to dress. Layers are de rigeur with lighter things underneath the more serious, 'we're going out in the freezing rain' stuff.
Yeah, Jaeyi's not exactly prepared for all the crap that's expected of people going out in the weather. Plus, it's not like she really packed or anything. So she's got all her things collected and folded over her arm, only occasionally distracted by watching or kissing or nibbling or-- well, whatever their normal morning routines might be, it's all interrupted with things like a busy nuzzle of that clean shave, a happy report about the smells-like-soap, et cetera. Anyway, she is eventually dressed, aside from shoes and socks which she sits on the edge of the bed to accomplish, though it better be a /short/ trip from here to there.
"Here's for the trip," T'rev offers, pulling a sweater out of one of his drawers. It's not orange or red at least, but a very tasteful charcoal gray. "And there's a spare jacket too, need a scarf and a hat ... if you don't mind wearin' something a little bright for just the trip over," he notes, moving about to collect such things for her, he's sorting through his little collection of handwarming gear for a pair of mittens for her, given the unlikelihood of gloves actually fitting when he remarks casually: "Y'know ... if you'd like, there's space in that bottom drawer." Beat. "For some of your things." A breath as he walks over, holding out a pair of fluffy orange mittens. "If you like."
Orange? Really? Wait-- drawer? That at least keeps Jaeyi from blinking at the mittens like they're about to infect her with some weird, orange-woolen disease. "Why do you have orange mittens?" she asks abruptly; otherwise, that pause would get too long and she'd just sit there blinking aimlessly. She collects the pair of them, the sweater, the scarf, all that happy knitted stuff laid across her lap for a second before she starts pulling things on the appropriate parts of herself. Not that she's stalling but-- yeah, she is. At least her hair's still damp so it won't get all crackly static when the sweater pulls on.
"They were Gay's. Telgar's Weyrwoman," T'rev says lightly enough. "She was my mentor when I was a weyrling. She died a few days after I transferred here." There's a faint touch of sadness in the bronzerider's face, but maybe Jaeyi might understand that he's not lending these to her lightly. "And I like orange. And rusty red. And red. Warm colors," the bronzerider says with a warm grin. While she finishes dressing, he possibly breaks that pause from being awkward by stepping out into the wallow to get Mecaith's straps on and when Jaeyi comes out, he'll have put on his own cap, scarf and gloves and both he and the bronze sit in the weyrmouth looking out at that disgusting fall of cold rain. Mecaith is sanguine. T'rev merely looks pained as if the rain is somehow, a personal affront. "Damn weather," he mutters under his breath.
Yeah, the significance impresses upon Jaeyi, evidenced in the brief sympathy that twinges her expression. Mind, once his back is turned, she's still eyeing them like they're just plain old orange and not sentimentally orange. "I feel like sherbet," she reports on stepping out to meet him, running a hand down the scarf and patting the top of the borrowed hat. But her teeth aren't immediately chattering, which is a good sign! "And think of it this way." Passing carefully, peering at the dismal downpour; "At least when it's pouring buckets, you don't have to feel quite as lazy and deviant when all you wanna do is stay in bed with me all day. Opposed to the bright and sunny days, when you know full well you could be accomplishing things." There, with a smile as cheerful as the weather is not.
"You look good enough to eat," is the requisite line and T'rev reaches out to thread an arm around her. "If it's any comfort, I don't feel lazy or deviant atall about stayin' in with you, regardless of the weather. If I'm with you, I'm with you. It's just that it's less likely anybody'll be lookin' for either of us when the weather's like this," a little nod outward and he smiles over at the baker. "Ready to face it for all of a few minutes before we go Between and get to peel all this off again?" Mecaith whuffs once, lowly and sticks his snout out of the entryway, rain splashing across his hide. Apparently the dragon at least, is keen to /go/ already. "He's goin' to fly the palisades while we're cookin'," T'rev explains.
Jaeyi makes a face. Sentimental. "While /we're/ cooking?" She gives T'rev a highly doubtful once-over, shoves an orange-mittened hand in his, and follows it up with a deep, bracing-herself breath. "No, but apparently Nerat won't come to me," she answers, just a little lingering sulk over leaving all that warmth under the quilt. "So. Let's. Before he decides to run off and leave us." The sight of Mecaith, getting his snout wet on purpose, leaves her no further fortified but at least a little entertained.
"Okay, while you're cookin' and I'm lounging around waitin' to eat all your hard work," T'rev jokes, expression merry. "Unless y'all decide to just plain kick me out of the kitchen, in which case I'll be on the porch keepin' my cousins busy with tall tales," the bronzerider continues. That answer about readiness earns another grin and T'rev aims to gather her near, plant a kiss on her mouth. "If I could, I would bring it. As it is, best I can do is Between, which is at least quick, if not much fun," he notes and turns to help her up onto the dragon's back.
On the heels of that kiss, on her way up-- hindered because she's not used to using mittens for more than taking trays out of ovens-- Jaeyi shares a highly amused grin. "I knew a man once at Boll like that. Quick if not much fun." Settled, tucking down her skirts in a way that would look quite proper for most girls, but very clearly is just not about freezing off her knees for this girl in particular, she ducks down into her bundle of attire, waiting for the inevitable freezing horror that's going to get her to Nerat.
Climbing up behind her, T'rev reaches into Mecaith's packs to pull a blanket out and wraps it around both of them. Apparently, he's not too keen about all that wet stuff out there either. "Yeah? If I hear it told rightly, most men're like that. We're a sorry lot," the bronzerider quips, deadpan, then warns: "Here we go." And so they do, Mecaith pushing himself fast out of the weyr and off the ledge in a single, nimble bound. His wings lift them up and up quickly and as soon as they've cleared the Rim, T'rev gives the word to go Between. Freezing horror gives way to warmth. Wet warmth. So not fair. It's raining over Nerat too, though at least it's not cold, half-freezing rain. "Ah shit," T'rev cusses from behind the baker, then he bursts out laughing as Mecaith cruises in over the road, using it as a landing guide, though he banks a little to the right and cuts into a damp, grassy clearing with a tall tree at one end of it, behind a long, L-shaped building that overlooks the road. "We're here," the bronzerider announces gaily enough.
The usual. Though she appreciates Mecaith's quickness, a hand pressing into the hide beneath her, Jaeyi's will to thank him gets stuck somewhere between icy cold rain and sensory deprivation. That's what leaves her clinging to T'rev's arms in the end, the muffle of his layers and her mittens enough to keep her fingers from biting too hard. A shaking exhale greets this side of the world, one that's utterly and completely relieved. "How long does it take to fly from here to Fort?" she asks in a little voice, one that breaks into a laugh at his cursing the weather. "I don't even care. It feels so damn good." To get hit in the face with drops that aren't killing-her-cold. Just enough time to get the lay of the land, then we're-here and she's pushing her way toward the ground as quickly as she ever has, shedding her sherbet gear post haste.
Those arms do close around Jaeyi comfortingly, T'rev as always lending his presence as a rock to cling to against the unpleasantness of Between. "Uhm, two days with a break," he notes about the cross-country journey. "Not sure which you'd hate more, bein' in the air that long or the seconds Between." He's sympathetic at least, even if he's long since inured to that icy touch. On the ground, he's quick out of his gear too and holding out a hand to her to lead the way. "C'mon, we can string this stuff up to dry inside and yeah, you're right, warm rain ... well it can be nice."
Jaeyi misses the hand for a few seconds, absorbed in being somewhere that isn't cold, with rain that isn't icy, and grass that hasn't died of frost yet, and peeling off outer layers without her teeth chattering. By the time she collects herself again, takes a breath that fills up all the way with the smell of warm humidity, T'rev's hand will have waited a solid half-minute. Then, quickly smoothing a hand down her hair, drying it with a swipe over her hips, she laces her fingers to his. "I'm very excited about this." And, now that the travel is done taking its toll on her, the bright eyes bouncing steps have come out for the afternoon.
It's a good thing T'rev's a generally patient sort and that Jaeyi makes a pretty picture standing in the rain enjoying the feel of it. "Good. I hope it goes really well," the bronzerider says sincerely. "Gramps is all kinds of curious. I mean, not that he ain't met bakers before but ... well, you know, you're my friend and all." Her fingers thread through his and his through hers and off they go a-bouncy stepping across the wet grass to the backdoor of the station. Inside there's a foyer sort of space and then it opens up into the kitchen already where there's the sounds of voices all heavy with that backwoods Nerat drawl, punctuated by chopping and the like and the scents of good things cooking.
"I am determined that it will." There's a lot of general peering around, being nosy and curious without bothering to hide it. Jaeyi will, at this point, tolerate no further delays, no matter how many she managed to create so far this morning-- afternoon. An imperious flip of her fingers urges on toward the kitchen, the joined hands doing less to lead her along than to keep her from just wandering off and making her own introductions, already mentally slotted in to the business before her. She was bright and cheerful for meeting the Terrivs, but this, pardon the expression, takes the cake.
"Then it probably will be," T'rev notes indulgently as they move forward into that busy kitchen. THere's squeals of delight promptly though, from a cluster of .. aunts? cousins? Women ranging in age from older teen to early thirties and one slightly older than that. Foosh. Welcome to T'rev's family as knives and spoons are set down and the rider is passed from hug to hug to hug and showered with questions about how he is, how the weyr is, how his daughter is doing and ohmywhoisthis? Which leads to: "Y'all, this is Jaeyi, apprentice baker at the Weyr," with a pleased gleam in brown eyes. Just outside all that hubbub, an older man with thinning gray hair and a goatee looks up from the kneading of dough, brown eyes ducking through the crowd of women to find Jaeyi herself. That must be Gramps.
Which leaves Jaeyi to busily return a flurry of hellos, hello, yes, it is nice to meet you, handshakes and cheek-kisses and a general effusiveness undimmed by bashfulness or reticence. Divested of damp things, fussed over and drowning under a barrage of names that she'll probably never remember later, she finds a moment to notice the only one not sucked into the crowd, to pause in a dramatic rendition of the horrible storm at Fort to hold those old-brown-eyes a second with a quick, beaming nod. She will manage to extricate herself shortly, if T'rev's not going to do it for her, but she's too eagerly polite to just blow off the aunties and cousins.
He lets them have a bit of their flutter, T'rev does, but then he's reaching for Jae's hand again. "C'mon y'all, let me do proper introductions to Gramps. C'mon Jae, this here's my grandpa, Veiran. But everybody calls him Gramps." More laughter and giggles as the crowd partially traipses along, partially heads off to get back to work. Veiran wipes floury hands on his apron as the pair near and extends one well-browned and wrinkled one to the baker. "Jaeyi. Heard a bunch 'bout you. Welcome to Big Tree and m'kitchen. M'glad T'rev's finally found it in him t'bring you along like he's been sayin'." After the handshake, warm, firm and floury from the older man, there's a flick of eyes up to the bronzerider. "C'mere son, give us a hug, then hare off like a good lad n' get me them peaches, yeah?" T'rev does as he's bidden, giving his grandfather a back-slappingly effusive hug, before retreating with a wink for Jaeyi. "Don't wear him out before you get started." And it's only been minutes, but any efforts the bronzerider's made to flatten out his accent have gone sliding away and his voice is thick with the local drawl.
Jaeyi may have issues with authority from time to time, certainly has a threadbare respect for the journeyman at Fort, but it's strictly cordial, respectful eagerness that returns a warm handshake, heedless of flour. Story of her life. "Sir. I am very glad to meet you, and thank you so much for letting me come." She only makes a face at T'rev's quip, chases him off with a look. He's lost a battle with his accent, and she's lost the on-display polish, so apparently getting out of Fort's relaxing both ways. There's no flaunt, no flirt, just; "How many people are you feeding?" With a look at the bustle of the surroundings.
"Ain't a problem, we welcome guest all the time, after all," Gramps says good naturedly and gestures to his dough. "Lemme get this set to risin', then we'll haul out the goods for makin' that cake. T'rev says it's a favorite of yours and he ain't one to lie, but is that the case?" he asks, smiling. "Was my wife's y'see, always think 'bout her when I make it. Bit of a family tradition y'might say," he continues as he turns back to his dough, kneading with the easy motions of one long-practiced at this task. T'rev's off in the storage room somewhere, fishing out the basket of peaches, which leaves Gramps free to answer further: "Got ten stayin' on tonight and a couple of the holders are comin' down if the rain stops enough so the roads ain't all mud. Could be more comin' in out of the rain later on. They tend to stop 'round supper time if they're gonna. It's been clear days except for today, so lots of movement on the roads. There's the family too, 'course. So should be twenty to thirty all told this evenin'."
"It was. I'm from Boll?" As if that should mean something? "So peaches are sort of a staple fruit. Anything anyone could do to make them a little less not-again was a standard summer competition, and I think I would have won with that cake." Which is a long and complicated way of saying it was the bestest peach cake that Jaeyi ever ate. "It's very generous to share a family tradition, thank you." While he goes on to speculate about the population, she nods along about the weather and the roads like she has the first clue, staying out of the way but still at an observable angle. "If there is anything I can do, please put me to work? I am... generally competent, and prefer helping to being underfoot. Apron?"
"Ah, Boll sure. T'other side of T'rev's family's from Boll. Kinda funny how those two sides came together," Gramps notes with a little laugh as he finishes up the kneading. Her remarks earn a lift of canny brown eyes to her face but Veiran only smiles. "Glad to pass it on really. In hopes of more folks enjoyin' that flavor." He nods though towards the swinging doors that lead into what's presumably the waystation's main room. "Whyn't you go set your wet things out there on a coupla chairs to dry. Come back and aprons're over yonder," a jerk of his chin to the hook where many a simple canvas apron hangs. "There's some already risen dough in that there bowl to punch down and set to a second risin'," he informs. And where's T'rev? Distracted by cousins maybe?
Jaeyi, to clarify, "It's different, with 'bakers.'" Quotes in the air. "There are more... jealously guarded secrets? People don't share their very best recipes, because what if someone does them better, then they're not /your/ specialties and-- it's all very political and silly." She opens her hands helplessly, then she's off to discard damp things, to liberate a ribbon from her pocket to secure her hair in a knot that simply wouldn't do at Fort, being nowhere near pristine, to find an apron that suits. Quickly rinsed hands later, she's quite happily at work. "I also happen to really like peaches," by the way. "So it was an easy sell."
"Hmm. Guess I'll be glad I ain't a baker then," Gramps says with easy jolliness, "though in the end, any baker his or her salt knows there's more t'makin' anything than just a recipe," the old man notes as he turns the dough one more time. "You got to put your heart into it." A little nod there as she steps off to deal with her things. He's done with the kneading when she comes back and sweeping the counter free of that initial coating of flour, tidying up the workspace and getting out new bowls and jars for making that cake. "They've got something about 'em, don't they, peaches? Softer'n an apple, sweeter'n a nectarine, and the smell ..." he winks over at Jaeyi and dusts his hands off again on his apron. Just then another set of doors on the other side of the kitchen swing open and T'rev comes in bearing the basket under one arm, his hand claimed by a small person on the other side. "... so then he said, 'You got that right!' and it never happened again," the bronzerider concludes one of his stories to much giggling from the boy he's walking with. "Here y'all go," he drawls out, leaning to settle the basket down. "Don't look none the worse for sittin' around in the storage for a few days, should be good t'go on that there cake. Got something realy simple for me n' Bairy here to do, or should we shove off t'go count raindrops or somethin' on the porch?" Gramps considers the pair for a moment, then gestures outward. "Go count them there raindrops, young fellas. We'll be just fine in here."
Jaeyi kind of... yeah, agrees via expression with Gramps's assertion about being glad he ain't a baker, not necessarily a fate she'd foist off on anyone else. But peaches-- "They always taste like summer, to me." Which will hopefully make more sense to someone speaking a similar language. "Only, the nice parts of summer, not the awful mid-afternoons where everyone's all wilting in the heat. Plus, they're a really pretty fruit," she adds, eyeing the basket of fruit like it's full of birthday presents all for her. A quick smile, a quick bend of a busy hand acknowledges T'rev but the old man called it well; she'll be just fine in here.
"That they do," Gramps agrees with Jaeyi about the peaches and waves T'rev and Bairy off some more. The bronzerider salutes his grandfather and though Jaeyi's only waving at him, he pauses to drop a kiss to her cheek, murmurs a fond: "Have fun," to her then heads off with his young cousin to go wreak havoc on the porch and likely collect more young cousins, thrilled to have their rider relation in town to tell them stories and liven up what's otherwise likely a dull-ish afternoon stuck indoors for some. Of course, there could also be mud sliding and puddle jumping in the offing, but what the grown-ups don't know, won't hurt them, right? Back to the baking. "Dunno that the wilting part's so bad either, somethin' to be said for sittin' in the porch swing with a glass of lemonade just watchin' life go by on days like that," Gramps notes philosophically. "And they're real decorative, yeah." The basket is nodded to though. "Sort through 'em, prep 'em. leave the peels on if you want a little tooth to it. Otherwise, peel." And he resumes pulling things out, setting up for the next step. He's done before she is and joins in the task of peach prep, including the removal of pits.
Jaeyi, chattily, "I always liked grapes more than peaches for those times, they always seem colder. Wetter, I suppose." Hands dusted, she fishes around a little till she comes up with a knife and a good-sized bowl, sets to work on the peaches with a running commentary on which fruits seem to go best with which particular times of day, types of weather, the prettiest blends for fruit salad, picking the old man's brains as much as offering up her opinion. She peels most of the peaches, leaves only a few just to mess with people's heads, and only steals a few bites off the knife along the way.
"Refreshing," Gramps agrees with the grape assessment and joins in the peeling and cutting, hands sure with his own knife. Kiwis are another favorite of his and deep red cherries. Eventually the basket is dealt with, the few leftovers ... left over and it's over to the bowls and things where the old man leans against the counter and points to each ingredient in turn. "That much of that, that much of this," goes the patter, leading Jaeyi through the making of the batter. There's a point where there's eggwhites to beat into a fluff, which might explain that lightness to the baked end product, though it's not so much that it's an angel food cake. "All right, secret to really kickin' it up is the pinch of cream of tartar and puttin' a bit of nutmeg in the batter as well as a sprinkle on the fruit. Coat the fruit up like in a pie, helps to bind the flavors together." The oven's been on all day already so there's no need to pre-heat once the batter's mixed, just pointers about using a nice deep pan.
Surprised, Jaeyi briefly floats her fingers a few centimeters above her lips, which purse thoughtfully at the list of ingredients, particularly the secret parts. Like, how could she not have caught that? "I had thought there was a cheat to it," she confesses mid-pour, an apology in the revelation. "That you were using peach liqueur or some extract that was pretending very well." Tap-to-temple, scrape of bowl, et voila. All ready for the oven.
"Liqueur'd make it too soggy," Gramps notes, "'sides, you want them little bits of fruit in there," he says with a wink and dips a finger into leftover batter to have a taste. "Mm. All right then, off into the oven, good center position. It's a pretty decent one we've got, cakes go on the side there," he points to the brick wall that makes up the oven, coals and logs able to be stuck in under the main portions. "Takes about an hour t'bake off. In the meantime we can make more bread, or I can send you off after my grandson. Bet he's wantin' to give you a ... tour," and there's a bit of a mischievous light in the old man's eyes.
Oh gee, bake bread-- which has never, not once, not in seven-or-eight months, turned out well for Jaeyi-- or go take a tour. Not that Gramps can be expected to know about her shortcomings in the bread department, but she's quite content to untie the apron about then, saying with a crinkle of her nose, "If it's all the same? I don't-- bread and I are not good friends, and I have a feeling you're going to want yours to be edible." She pauses, either to wait to actually be released or just to peer into the oven for a second there with a brief, eager smile for the outcome.
"Really? Bread problems?" Gramps is already starting to clean up again, motions sure, steady and slow. "What usually happens when y'try t'make bread?" the old man asks as he scrapes the counter free of lingering flour. The cake in the oven only shows signs of slight bubbles at the top so far. It'll be a little bit before it even needs any turning.
"Honestly?" Or the myriad excuses? "I don't like doing it, so I don't bother paying attention. And now it's just..." Jaeyi, lips pursed thoughtfully, keeps an eye on the cake in a way that defies the never-boils adage. "Now it's finally just become accepted that I'm not going to do it right, so no one asks me to do it any more. Only took-- seven months? Give or take. Which is, I know, not the greatest example of a work ethic, but I bust my tail most of the time." E.g., she's in someone else's kitchen on her rest day.
"What don't y'like about it?" Gramps asks next, bowls piled in the sink, water flipped on and he starts to placidly wash the dirtied items. Nothing much seems to ruffle him, which might explain a thing or two about his grandson. "Seven months? Either you're really stubborn or they are," he notes with a slight teasing quality to his voice. Washing. Suds. Rinsing. "Ain't questioning your work ethic, though it does seem y'know, like the kind of thing a baker might want to be able t'really get right."
After a brief cast of her eyes toward the ceiling, a touch thoughtful, Jaeyi answers, "Pretty much all of it. Bread's not pretty or memorable and very rarely the best part of any meal." On the scale the Weyr'd be calling for, anyway. "Oh, I'm sure I /can/ do it, I understand how it's done and I can read a recipe. I just don't want to. And, really, if a person's got a talent for doing something, and they happen to like it, why not just let them do that?"
"I find makin' bread to be relaxing," Gramps replies, setting a bowl into the rack to dry, moving on with the next. "It's sort of the old standby to come back to between other things," he muses still, tilts a look over at Jaeyi, nods. "I'm sure y'can to. And could be, that's a good enough reason to do it. Even if there's plenty of bread-bakers at that Weyr there." Gramps smiles slowly, nods his head once. "Anyway, that's my take on it. Maybe somethin' to think about. But go on now, porch is right on through them doors and on. Kids're probably crawlin' all over T'rev."
Jaeyi, by comparison, "I like making pie, for a stand-by. Like, that's the thing I could do in my sleep at this point and still kinda enjoy it." To each his own? "But I will think about, yes. And thank you for the advice." She smiles at him without the eyeroll that would normally accompany someone trying to tell her what to do with herself, gives the cake a last look on her way by, and follows through-them-doors. Heroically, she means to save T'rev from having kids crawl all over him, failing in a small way to comprehend that not everyone would sooner ignore them than enjoy them.
Gramps watches her go, grinning for the check on the cake and sets another clean bowl in the rack. The clink of dishes accompanies Jaeyi through the doors. Outside, the rain still falls in a light patter, but that doesn't stop the merry carousing on the porch, or the pair of shorts-only-clad kids just beyond it, jumping up and down in a puddle getting all muddy. T'rev is indeed, crawling with kids, one on his back another tucked under his arm as he chases them around the porch, making raar noises. Somewhere along the way he lost most of his clothes and is down to shorts himself, grinning ear to ear, clearly quite at home with playing 'the fun uncle/cousin' type. As soon as Jaeyi appears there's another rush of voices, this time childish ones, clamoring as a pair of them bum rush her to 'come play bein' a crazy wher with us.' Oh dear.
The whole bit is just charming enough that Jaeyi doesn't interrupt, that she leans in the doorway a minute to indulge a little voyeurism-- that is, until there are kids coming her way and she hurriedly takes a step back into the foyer like a doorjamb is enough to protect her from a bum-rushing. "Nooooo no no nonono," is the rapid-fire response to that. "I can't. I'm not allowed to play, I'll get in trouble. But /you/ play, and I'll stay here and watch. Yes?" This would have to be a rare moment when she hasn't got so much as a peppermint in her pocket to distract them with!
Oh the pouting. Oh the puppy dog eyes and T'rev laughs, turning his armful of kid upside down onto the porch-swing giggling, though he can't quite reach the little burr on his back. "Ain't allowed? Awww, that ain't no fun," he tells her and comes forward, holding up his hands in mock-crazy-wher fashion. "Raar, comin' t'get you, raaar!" which makes the kid on his back laugh like crazy and there's a whole bunch of jostling out of the way to see what T'rev's going to do when he catches Jaeyi, because of course he's going to, right?
What Jaeyi mouths is a very clear 'I hate you.' Right before she feigns a terrified scream, darts from the doorway, and 'hides,' kneeling down on the far side of a patio chair over the arm of which she daringly peeks every few seconds. Oh, her precious dignity.
T'rev shoots Jaeyi a big round-eyed 'whaaaat?' type look and then goes chasing after. "Where'd Jaeyi go? Hidin' from the big ole meanie wher!" he exclaims which occasions more laughter, pointing to the right spot and so on. The kid on his back is finally dislodged, set down on another chair and finally T'rev goes diving after the baker, with twinkling eyes, aiming to scoop her up into his arms. "Mua ha! I got her and I'm carryin' her off to my den!"
Jaeyi's "Oh no!" wouldn't even fly in a junior high school play, but then neither would a captive that makes no further effort to run and whose sole attempt to escape consists of a few light-landing blows. Also, captives shouldn't do more smirking than weeping, especially while supposedly railing, "Whatever will become of me."
There's brow-waggling then from T'rev for that. "You can only imagine!" he declares as he keeps on walking towards the far end of the porch. Laughter follows after, but the kids don't. It's possible, given what T'rev's said about the station that they're wise to what's likely coming next and shortly the sound of a different game starting up echoes off the porch even as the bronzerider moves down the steps, crosses out into the rain briefly to duck into the stables. "My lair," he says with quirky humor on his face and then jerks a chin towards the steps that lead up to the loft. "And that bedroom I was talkin' about. They all sleep up there now of course. The kids. Wasn't a bad way t'grow up really."
Jaeyi will check back over T'rev's shoulder for any tag-alongs before doing anything lascivious to his ear-- which stops abruptly as they actually have walked into a hayloft. "You actually really did sleep in the barn," she says with sudden amusement, looking up the stairs with a very readable expression: she wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't seen it with her own two eyes. "I mean," clearing her throat. "What a fearsome lair you have here."
T'rev shifts the baker a little in his arms for a safer grip as he heads up those stairs, casts her an amused grin. "Yeah, I really did," he tells her and bends his head to return, briefly some lascivious favors to her ear in turn. "Mhmm. Very fearsome. All full of ... hay. And stuff." At the top of those steps, it's a hayloft. With you know, some hay in it, though most of one end is taken up by cots, most of them just singles, but there's two bunks too. The bedding on each is different and the area around them is decorated. One has a tent erected over it. "Heh, that must be Bairy's, he's really into tents right now," T'rev says of his cousin with a fond grin and then moves over to a cot tucked up against one wall. "This was mine. Evra's got this one now. She'll be twelve next month and is thinkin' about tryin' for bein' an apprentice at the beastcraft."
Through a laugh that's a little breath-catchy for things being done to her ear, Jaeyi says, "I almost feel bad about calling you a bumpkin, now that it's true." The 'almost' is the important part there. "So here's where little Trev," still hard to say it that way, "spent his formative nights. In a barn." She's still overly amused by the literal truth of it, one arm shifting so she can give overly long curls a brief finger-comb. "No wonder."
"Complete and total truth," T'rev says mostly seriously, about being a bumpkin and smiles down at her as her hand travels through his hair. "Listenin' to stories and the other kids laughin' and playin' games under the covers after lights out. "Or y'know, sometimes, other things. Sometimes the folks stayin' here don't realize there's a whole passel of kids sleepin' up in the loft," he says candidly, humor dancing in his eyes. "'Course, it ain't really somethin' anyone gets much fussed about here," he notes further and drops his lips to her cheek, nose nuzzling a little. "You got to rush back after that cake or ...?"
Jaeyi kind of manages to smooth his hair down a little, kind of, although why bother? Considering. "Didn't anyone ever think to, mmmn, give away your presence? Cough or sneeze or something?" Her eyes close at the nuzzling and stay that way despite the grin that surfaces; "T'rev, you're hardly wearing anything, we're in a hayloft, for goodness sake, and I'm reasonably sure that your grandfather's capable of making sure that cake comes out of the oven on time. 'Or' is a lot likelier than rushing back, hmn?"
"Worse. Sometimes we'd drop hay or ... y'know someone would pee off the edge of the loft," T'rev says with barely contained humor. "Kids y'know. Ain't always /kind/." He chuckles lowly at her answer and walks a little further back along the loft, ducking around the bales to where there's an extra cot, currently bare of sheets. "Thought I'd give you the option, given how excited you were 'bout that cake," T'rev says quite sincerely, even as he bends to rest her down on that mattress and follows after to make 'or' a hopefully happy reality. All those little cousins better be wise enough not to come in after and drop any stinkbombs. Or worse.
"/Mean,/" is Jaeyi's assessment of that, her way having been a lot less cruel to the unsuspecting people doing nothing more harmful than... well, what she and T'rev wind up doing presently. "It's," she realizes at a vaguely inopportune moment, certainly one that's not usually reserved for lucidity, "kind of like having my cake and eating it, too. Or-- having my cake." Where a delighted gasp praises him for whatever it is he just did to her. "And baking it too." Which realization has her smothering giggles in his neck. And there better be no stinkbombs, 'cause Jaeyi was raised with a switch, remember.
"Sometimes," T'rev murmurs for 'mean' and then he's duly absorbed in making her gasp and more. And any commentary about cake just means his eyes are flashing disbelief at her and his hands are doing what they do best, efforts re-doubled to drive thoughts of cake out of her head for now. Smart kids. No stinkbombs. No interruptions either. A happy, sweaty, still rain-damp T'rev curls in close in the after math, a stray stalk or three of hay clinging to his hair and another stuck to the curve of his hip. He's looking down at Jaeyi with one of his more thoughtful expressions, brown eyes on her face, one hand propping up his head, the other wandering along the edge of her shoulder. Tenderly.
Liberating little pieces of hay, locating and pinching and working them out of hair that she had smoothed at one point then messed up happily immediately afterward-- it's not the most engrossing hobby, but it serves to occupy Jaeyi for a few minutes while the haze thins. Also, much like the comment about the cake, it amuses her in a little way if gradually brightening eyes are any indicator. It takes a minute to key into T'rev's thoughtful look, to question with a smile first while she remembers how to phrase something so eloquent as, "Hmmmmn?"
Hay liberation draws a smile onto T'rev's face but he remains thoughtful, shifts his fingers to the edge of her jaw, tracing its shape. "Wanted to apologize," he says after a moment in answer to that 'hmmm'. "For -- the night with the weed. Said some stupid things," the bronzerider continues quietly, thumb finding the curve of her bottom lip, following it out to the corner of her mouth like it's the most fascinating thing in the world. "Ain't got no idea, if this ... is anything or will ever be anything different from what it is. You and me." His brow crinkles just a little and he takes a breath, goes on. "Dunno that it needs a name, even. Just -- it's good. Real good, Jae."
For a second, it's obvious that he touched a nerve there. Jaeyi's forehead creases and her mouth changes shape, and there's a little bit of her hurt feelings showing, chased away hurriedly; "It's okay. I know you didn't mean it? The way it came out." Or, well, she knows it now anyway, if the wash of relief in expression and tone is any indicator. Propping up on an elbow, quick to shake her head and kiss him at once, thumb smoothing out that line in his brows, she denies the whole worry of what it is or what it might be. "I don't want it to be different, I don't want it to change or-- it is good. And I want it to stay this way."
He can't miss it, that moment of hurt, for all it's shooed away hurriedly and there's an answering pang to be found in T'rev's eyes: he really didn't mean to hurt her. "I think I'll stick to smokin' that stuff with my grandfather," is what the bronzerider ultimately says, expression turning wry, rueful, leans into that kiss. Once he can see her face again though, he smiles once more, sunny and sweet. "Me too," is simple enough with his arm curving around her to draw her close. It's possible there might've been more talk as the rain pattered away on the roof up there, but little cousins apparently can only hold off so long, or at least, there's some that weren't out with the others and missed the whole tryst-in-the-making between the 'wher' and his 'prey'. A couple of kids therefore, come clattering up the stairs and though one of them walks right by, the elder of the two, pauses, catching sight of a bare foot dangling off the spare cot and promptly busts out laughing. T'rev's shorts, which went flying earlier are lobbed at his bare backside. "Put your pants on, Trev," comes the cheeky remark and then that girl's out of view again, accompanied by the sound of a cot creaking under a kid's stomach flop and the murmur of voices about some very important something other picks up. Fumbling to peel his shorts off his hip, T'rev leans in to kiss Jaeyi one more time. "Guess that's our signal t'head back to the kitchen n' see how Gramps is doin'."
Whisper; "This is why I hate kids." At least they served the purpose of detaching two people who notoriously have a difficult time getting on with anything other than getting-on. Dressed, not even gonna worry about where hay's sticking to her, Jaeyi catches his lips one last time before she sees herself out of the loft. To help with the cake, to feign absolutely no innocence about where she'd wandered off, to stick around for supper and whatever else winds down an evening here, and to be a little more drained on the trip home so she hasn't got the energy to whine the whole way. She has got the energy to keep T'rev company back at Fort, but it all ends with her /sleeping/ quite cozily under the quilt-- right back where she started.
"At least these kids're used to this kind of thing," T'rev says, shameless and puts his pants back on. Dinner, yes. Lots of talking and laughing, yes. And cozy sleeping, definitely yes and definitely /good/.