In the Kitchen (G'tet - others?)

[Omnia Munda]

Igen Sea Hold's staff was not comprised of dragonriders and, deficient in the area of mentally bonded spies lurking in the square outside, had no way of knowing that the lost-seeming rider who wound hopelessly through the halls looking for something, jacket tucked under arm and knots out of sight, was anyone other than an Igenite or maybe Istan wingrider come back early from Threadfall. Such riders were usually victims of threadscore - or rather, their dragons were - and as such the Hold's staff to a person ducked their heads respectfully as G'tet passed by. Or perhaps they were just avoiding eye contact, steering clear of a dangerous situation.

No matter. The kitchen was working staff-and-a-half to prepare an evening meal large enough to serve not just the Hold's own people, hungrier than usual from the service to the dragonriders returning from 'fall, but whatever of those riders chose to stay as well. The smells were unmistakable, wafting an easy path for G'tet to follow once he caught the drift.

And what food this was. At Telgar's holds in his own time and place, dinners put on for the benefit of dragonriders were never exactly poor, but most Holders did not see a dragonrider visit as a good opportunity to bring out their best. Better if dragonmen didn't know how good a Hold had it; they were better able to skimp on tithe and send the least of their goods and harvests to the Weyrs, then.

But here it was different, and that was glaringly obvious from the first foot stepped into the kitchen. There was all the usual bustle of staff moving to and fro, cooks and charwomen and dish-girls and butcher-boys everywhere, but most striking to eye and nose was the food. From glistening fruits piled high and growing higher on a salad bed to rich dripping roasts being pulled from the big stone ovens to three hues of bread letting off fresh-baked steam in baskets, this was the true measure of a Hold's bounty. And of course there was fish: not just a heap of redeye or rockfish, but platters dressed to make the most of what a sea hold could catch, showing each creature off to its best advantage for eye and palate alike.

The riders of wounded dragons were not, evidently, expected here. A boy paused between point A and point B, a heavy cutting board balanced awkwardly across his arms, and blinked up at the greenrider. "Can I help you find something, sir?"

[Invisible]

G’tet was gracious and smiling and apologetic looking as he wound his way through the hold. He did his best to not get in the way and had a strained smile for anyone who did look at him. With his knot out of the way he was quite happy to pose as just another rider with a wounded dragon. If it ever looked like someone would try to speak to him he just rubbed at his jaw and winced. Poor G’tet with a wounded dragon. The role was easy to adopt as he remembered well what it had been like when Kalpeth had gotten hurt. His nose led him right where he wanted to be. Who better to fill him in after all?

Standing in the door of the kitchen he was dumbstruck by the bounty being prepared. Life during threadfall was definitely different he sent to Kalpeth out in the courtyard. You’re not eating are you? She sent back mournfully. She was hungry after all. No, Kal. We’ll eat soon. Promise. Mollified by his words the green settled back down and G’tet refocused just in time to be asked a question. Adopting an apologetic grin he answered the kitchen boy. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to interrupt. I was just trying to distract myself. Don’t suppose I might help out? Wasn’t that long ago I was working in the kitchen myself.” G’tet smiled again, harmless, although he was a rider and had that little bit of ego going. No sense seeming a pushover. It was a hard balance to keep, but for turns now he’d been keeping all sorts of things in balance.

“I’ll stay out of the way. Just plop me with someone in a corner peeling tubers or something and there won’t be any trouble.” Which was not meant as a threat to trouble if he was not. It was up to whomever heard his words to decide how to take it. But the self-effacing sheepish rider didn’t give off the air of a man who would throw his weight around. “Can I give you a hand carrying that?” he offered as if just noticing the cutting board. See? What a nice man.

[Omnia Munda]

The notion that G'tet might want to help in the kitchen - that he could have been helping in a kitchen somewhere else not long ago - had the lad clearly stunned. "Oh, uh. I don't know, sir. The head cook - our shift's head anyway - she's by the oven, or was a minute ago."

He swallowed hard, which gave G'tet time to suggest peeling tubers and so forth: more than the lad could imagine. The boy's feet started to be anxious, wiggling back and forth as though he longed to flee this awkward situation. Dragonriders were meant to accept their due - not help make it! Still - "If it would... help you relax, sir, I'm sure Shana could find you something."

The boy was perhaps ten turns old. Nevertheless, he redistributed the cutting board's weight across one arm, steadying it with the other hand, so that he could lift it up for the dragonrider. It was more like he didn't dare object than that he actually wanted to accept the man's help; he made an offering of the item, expression a little wide-eyed.

"Um. I just washed it up for the bread to get sliced. Let's... take it over to the ovens."

So the boy was ready to lead the rider toward Shana. Best he could do.

[Invisible]

Aware he was making the boy nervous G’tet tried to figure out what he could do about it. Unfortunately his only solution was to not be a dragonrider and he was unable to actually do that. Make the best of it he told himself with a sigh. How’s it going out there, Kal? Someone new arrived! He is big and bronze and I do not recognize him. He is not talking to me. Did I say something wrong? Of course not, beauty. It’s fine. Just keep trying to learn anything. And don’t tell anyone where I am if they ask. I would never! G’tet? Where are you? Chuckling out loud was not going to set the boy at ease. But, he couldn’t help it.

Once he had the board he held it easily. “I’m G’tet. And there’s no need to be so struck by me, lad. Just a harmless greenrider looking to take my mind off things.” When told they were headed to the ovens he grinned widely. “Lead on, lad. What’s your name anyway? You’ve got a fine head on your shoulders you know. Never make a decision you can pass on to someone in charge. That’s how you stay out of trouble.”

[Omnia Munda]

The greenrider's guide, already heading for Shana and - hopefully - a release from being a dragonman's caretaker, looked up over his shoulder. The chuckling sound behind him had done - as G'tet expected - nothing whatsoever to set the boy at ease.

"Name's Sochin, sir. Sorry, sir, I should have introduced myself." But he wasn't going to take time out now from walking across the kitchens at a quick clip to do so! He faced forward once more, eyes scanning for the head cook. She'd been by the ovens but a moment before... "We don't have dragonriders here often, sir. In the kitchen, I mean. And not visiting ones, ever. Ever."

At least not in the boy's long life. Abruptly, he let out a sigh that was more like exclamation than relief, and sped his gait: Shana must be not far ahead. Around a counter island here, past a cold firepit there, along a wall of brick that grew warmer and warmer until they were indeed by the ovens - and then:

"Ma'am. This is G'tet. He..."

Panic struck the boy's features. Shana, turning from the oven, looked down and then up, from Sochin to G'tet, blinking slowly. "Oh," she said, sounding half-weary and half-bemused, struggling to find respect as a middle ground. "Igen's duties, sir. And welcome, too, but Sochin's only ten. Would you like me to roust out the other boys?"

[Invisible]

Since the boy, Sochin, was not comfortable talking to him G’tet was content to walk in silence. Unlike his sister he did not mind the occasional moments of silence to interfere with the craziness of every day life. There was nothing he could do to put the boy’s mind at ease. It’s not like he had much experience with children. When they finally reached their destination he continued to stand silently and hold the board given to him by the boy.

It took a moment for Shana’s words to sink in and when they did he wasn’t quite sure what to think. A boy, she didn’t think he wanted a boy? For…it was impossible to keep his cheeks from turning a bright red. She couldn’t have thought what he thought she thought? G’tet enjoyed himself plenty, but not with kids. “Shana then?” he said and tried to find his usual calm cheer. He had to stop a moment to get himself under control and to reach for Kalpeth who had no idea why her rider was upset, but calmed him anyway. She was always so calm, so cheerful, it was nearly impossible to not find peace with her.

Clearing his throat he tried again. “Excuse me. I was distracted.” That was tinged with a bit of superiority because it seemed expected of him. Sadly his expression didn’t carry it through. “Ma’am, I think you might have the wrong idea? Or I’ve made a terrible assumption as to what you mean and I apologize. I was just looking for a little work to take my mind of things. Unless peeling tubers means something different here than at home anyway. In which case we’ve had a terrible misunderstanding!” Shells, Kal. I’m not even sure what to say. You will do fine. You can do anything. I am here too.

[Omnia Munda]

Shana waited with what would have to pass as patience while the rider conferred with his dragon. She expected this: the poor beast would have to be told that he or she had been mistaken in choosing a child so young.

But then the rider was telling her she had the wrong idea, and the cook's face flushed as she dipped her head. "I'm so sorry, sir. I shouldn't have assumed." Though I'd look less ridiculous if you had a tongue in your mouth to speak with, boy, she silently cursed Sochin. Gathering her wits a bit she raised her head and took a breath, lifting her gaze to try G'tet's again, tremulous. "Sochin's brothers have already gone to stand in the past, is all."

The boy was not tall for his age; he wasn't mature for his age; but both of his brothers had already been flown off to Igen never to be seen in the Sea Hold's kitchens again, and Shana felt in her gut that it wouldn't be long before the youngest of the three was taken, too - but not yet.

The cook startled then and held out her hands, reaching impulsively for the cutting board G'tet held. Her expression had, in that short time, shifted to something very much like horror. "Oh, sir, let me take that; I'm so sorry. Sochin, here, take it and run it back to the baskets."

Sochin, of course, was eager to comply - and still no one seemed anxious to put root vegetables and knives into the dragonrider's hands. Instead Shana asked, "Would you like to sit by the stair? The draft from the storerooms is quite cool, and I can bring you something to drink until you're - " She had to pause and think of what it was the rider'd said. Take his mind off things. Horror widened the woman's eyes again: his poor dragon! "- ready to go back out."

Shana's voice was solicitous, gentle, mothering and as kind as she could make it. "How does that sound?" The 'dear' was absent in word, but not spirit.

[Invisible]

“You’ll have to forgive me, ma’am,” G’tet said with a mortified grin. “I’m afraid I’m not thinking clearly. Can hardly remember the date right now I’m so turned around.” Which was not a lie at all thankfully so should come across as endearingly apologetic. He tugged at his ear and even scuffed one foot on the ground. Shells! I am such an idiot. I should have thought…but how was I to know there might be eggs somewhere close by? There are eggs? Will we get to see them hatch? I would like to see eggs hatch. I have not ever before. I promise, Kal. We’ll see eggs hatch soon, ok? After eating though.

“He is a bit young for standing,” G’tet agreed with an easy grin as he watched Sochin scamper off. “Of course, if it’s what he wants there’s no stopping them. I was pleased enough to, but wasn’t his age that’s for sure.” G’tet, of course, being an old man in comparison at twenty turns. When Shana offered him a quiet place to sit he shook his head. “To be honest, ma’am, sitting by myself isn’t going to help me none. However, if you’d promise to come sit with me first chance you get so we might chat, well, I could stand for that.” He winked at the older woman in a none too serious flirty way.

[Omnia Munda]

"I'd heard it was - a rough fall," said Shana, still solicitous, still too kind. She'd managed to drain the horror out of her expression, but her mind was still racing with the possibilities: had his dragon been wounded? Had he lost a wingmate? A weyrmate? How did Sochin fit into it all? Oh, riders made no sense to Shana, and having two weyrs' worth of them here at once made it more confusing still. If only they'd eat and drink and get patched up and be on their way.

And not, Faranth's own egg, wink at her!

Shana smoothed her skirts, a reflexive gesture that bought her time to form words and opportunity to look away from the dragonrider at her hands. "I just think he's a little too young, is all. To begin fighting at thirteen..." The hands she was watching clutched at her skirt, then began smoothing again. She was quiet a moment, then looked up in the way one does when one must face the music, or in this case, the dragonrider who absolutely requires one's most humble company.

"Of course, sir. I'll tell Abria where I'll be and then I'll come along." She gestured with a glance and her hand toward the other side of the kitchen, where a stair indeed promised access to other caverns and a number of wooden chairs waited haphazardly around small tables for kitchen folk to need a break from their hot work. "I'll bring us some ales."

I'll need it.

[Invisible]

“No fall can be perfect,” G’tet said with a shrug of his shoulders. He wasn’t quite sure how to behave since he had never been in a fall. It hardly counted appearing in the middle of one now did it? His appearance of nonchalance may have been out of place with trying to be a rider with an injured dragon, but his natural cheer and desire to be social always won out no matter how he tried. When Shana spoke again of the boy he turned to try to spot where he had disappeared to. He did not look very hard and turned back to smile at the woman again. “If you think he is too young then likely he is. After all, you know him. I am not here to search any of your youngsters, Shana. You have my word on that. They are safe as can be from me.”

What G’tet had trouble figuring out was why she seemed so adverse to his company. At first he thought it was just she was busy. He’d been shooed out of the kitchen before at home, but always in a good natured sort of way. Maybe it was just the difference between hold and weyr? He was not an imposing fellow. When she mentioned bringing a drink G’tet lit up and grinned. “An ale. There’s a good woman then. I cannot think of anything better to have at this moment.” He wondered if he tried too hard, but the truth was he wasn’t trying. G’tet was a nice guy and there was no escaping it. It didn’t seem to be doing him much good right now however.

It wasn’t until he’d gone to sit that Kalpeth informed him of who had landed in the courtyard. A frown creased his face for a moment before he dismissed it. No sense frowning. Telgar was bound to be sent for since that’s where they were from. Just not when they were from. What a mess. He just hoped the others explained themselves well. If not he’d have to head off on his own and let them deal with the fall out. So long as there was no bright idea to bring a queen in he could get Kalpeth to do what he wanted regardless of what any other dragon demanded.

[Omnia Munda]

"Yes, sir." If the kitchen boys were safe from G'tet, it seemed to comfort Shana little. 'There's a good woman, then' did no better; worried ideas about how exactly the rider might like to take his mind off of whatever had befallen his dragon or friends started to flicker into being inside the cook's mind.

Shana was true enough to her word to not be gone long. Two ales was not hard come by in the kitchens and, as much as the woman might have liked to steer clear of whatever desires this rider had of her, it was not exactly within her rights to do so.

That was, anyhow, how Shana saw it. So she returned to the tables and the chairs with the ales one per hand in big tankards, obviously ready to drink down a man's portion herself if necessary. She put one of them down before the greenrider and the other on the table's other side, then put herself on down behind it so that she faced the man. Businesslike... but she assumed that if he wanted her on his side of the table, he'd say so.

She wanted so badly to drink, but felt obliged to say something friendly first.

"Now what can I do for you, sir?"

Inwardly Shana winced. Friendly was not the same as solicitous. She'd do better next time, she promised herself, and swigged ale to seal the vow.

[Invisible]

The whole situation was so foreign to him. G’tet was used to getting some respect as a dragonrider, but he was not used to having someone be so…not scared, but what was she? Certainly his natural good nature was doing him no good here. So, he had no choice but to push on. He was here to do a job, right? He had to get information and this still seemed his best chance for that.

While waiting for Shana to return he studied the kitchen and everyone in it. They looked well. No one looked to be trying to cover for someone missing even. A kitchen was a good indicator of the rest of a Hold or Weyr. That was why he was here rather than being interrogated by whomever was in charge. He wished the others all the best, but was not interested in being grilled. G’tet was pretty sure that there was not ale where the others were. His grin for Shana only grew when the tankard was placed before him.

Before saying anything he picked up his tankard and took a long drink. He wondered why she was still on edge and wondered if telling her Kalpeth was a she would put her mind at ease. Since he was not sure he didn’t and just pushed forward. He watched her drink and suppressed a sigh. “I don’t want anything but conversation,” he told her with a grin. “Promise on Kalpeth’s hide that’s all I want. But, really, I am hurt. Am I that ugly? My baby sister tells me I am most handsome.” The greenrider stops to take a pull from his ale and grin. “Of course I’m usually tugging on her braids when she says it.”

G’tet set down his tankard and leaned forward with his elbows on the table. “I have to admit, I’ve always been jealous of people living someplace like this. I mean, you get everyone coming to trade, yea? Not just the ones that come by land, but by sea as well. Now that I’ve always wanted to do. Go out to sea.” G’tet leaned back again in his chair and winked. “Ever hear the call of the sea? Or is it too quiet under the sound of all these pots?”

[Omnia Munda]

What G'tet was not used to was something Shana couldn't have explained if she tried. All she knew was his importance. She revered him. Yet reverence was a sensation she, like most of her holdbred, lowborn ilk, wore with much discomfort. It itched like a shirt of hair, and it was all she could do to sit still in her seat and not squirm to get free.

That tension and intensity no doubt came through in her taut posture, her tense regard, and the sudden break of her expression from friendly apprehension to open-mouthed shock. She'd made him feel bad.

"No, sir. Your sister's right, of course; you should tell her so." Shana's mouth closed up and opened again. Not to suggest that you're egotistical, she barely stopped herself from saying - but the greenrider had saved her just the same, saying he was jealous of living by the sea. It was a welcome change of topic, and the whole tugging-on-braids thing had softened her nerves anyway. She smiled.

"Yes, we're a major trade center. Or a portal to one, Igen would say." She meant Igen Hold proper on the other edge of the peninsula, but if he would think she meant the Weyr she'd allow it; let him think she had some spine in her. But she remained aware that he'd made a crack on his looks, and assumed she should be spending some time admiring them. As he leaned back, she leaned forward, putting an elbow on the table. One hand curled around her ale; the other supported her round chin. "It's not meant for the likes of me to go to sea, sir. But I do love to watch the waves - and listen."

Shana could do small talk. She'd been approached by relatives of the Blood and the like when she was younger (and fairer), young men too timid or too seemly to make an immediate point of whatever their interests might have been. She just had to push it out of her mind that he was a dragonrider and she'd do fine - whether his interests were innocent or not.

[Invisible]

“Are you kidding,” G’tet replied with a wink and a grin. “If she finds out I ever thought her right I’d never hear the end of it.” It was easy to talk about Genet, but it wasn’t so easy to suppress the guilt he was still feeling over missing the hatching. He wondered what had happened out there on the sands. What had her fate been? It was hard to stay focused on the task at hand, but he had to try. “I had to leave her back at the Weyr,” he tells Shana with a touch of that guilt in his voice. “Out on the sands with no family. I can only imagine the boredom for her and those poor girls.” Because there was just the one egg to wait on, of course. It didn’t need saying as surely she would understand. Giving his head a shake he fiddled with the coat he’d tossed onto the table. In doing so his knot peeked out just a fraction and showed off the green threaded through it.

“Did you ever want to?” he asks after another swallow of ale goes down his throat. “Go out to sea I mean. I’d never seen the sea until after I’d impressed or I might have thought of it myself. It’s got a sort of romantic pull to it I think.” This wasn’t Telgar’s territory. In more ways than one it wasn’t so the greenrider was loathe to just start asking probing questions. He wanted to, to get everything done and go home, but he sensed it might not be a good idea. So, small talk it was for now. “Have you any children?” he asked at last. “Maybe one of them will go out to sea for you?”

[Omnia Munda]

"Your sister? I'm sorry, sir."

She seemed to be putting on the sympathy for the greenrider, for the fact he'd had to leave his sister behind, 'on the sands with no family' as he put it. But inwardly Shana's mind was racing, and she picked up her ale for another stabilizing swig while listening with half her attention to the rest of what the man was saying. They've already hatched? Or were hatching now, or about to hatch maybe... Shana supposed she might not hear anything of it, though. There was no one on her staff with a child standing there.

She startled back to awareness when a question was asked of her, and stared down at the coat he'd been meddling with. If the color of his knot's thread meant anything to her it wasn't apparent; maybe she even passed off the gray as black, Telgar for Ista. People see what they expect to see. But she hadn't expected to be asked what she wanted, and though Shana's mouth gapped open to try to prepare a reply it snapped closed in obvious relief when G'tet clarified the question. And then moved on to others.

"No children," she said, very quietly. Suddenly she was shy. "But my uncle sailed, and his son will sail if the Weyr doesn't take him."

She was looking at him somewhat closely, though from widened, hesitant eyes, and she'd forgotten the ale wrapped in her hands. "Have - you children, sir?"