May 10, 2000
Ismaye welcome Llilian to the weyr.

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Llilian comes in from the adjacent northern cavern.

Ismaye's rushing along her way, powered towards the Steward's door, without a care for anyone else in the cavern.

Llilian comes in from the north, chattering, if softly, away to the pouch she carries in her hands, curious eyes lifting, now and again, as she lookis at, or perhaps fore, someone or something or another. At the sight of someone else within the cavern, she lifts her voice, "begging your partdon, mistress, but may I ask a question?"

Mistress? Ismaye turns, her pale face contorted into a slightly confused semblance of pretty features. "Ismaye. I'm Ismaye, or, of you must, Headwoman. Not mistress, I'm afraid." Her tone is cultured, faintly accented with something posh, perhaps. "But you may ask me a question, certainly."

Llilian's eyes widen, just the smallest amount, before she catches hold of herself, "Headmistress. Ismaye, and I'm Llilian." A faint, friendly smile, before she continues, "The Weyrleader, I met him yesterday, he said that I should come to see you, to recieve a resident's knot, so that i could visit here freely, and also, that perhaps you might have a posting for me. I'm not terribly certain, if I would be much use. I'm a farmer and trader, come from Nerat Hold, but the trading season, at least for me, is nearly finished, and I could use something to keep me busy."

Ismaye's lips twitch slightly at the 'headmistress', moving closer towards a smile. Graciously, she turns the whole way round, pulling her hands behind her back. "Well met, Llilian." Head bobs once, and then again: "Ah, I see. Well, I'm sure I can help with that, indeed." She considers a moment, wriggling her foot sedately, "Farmer and trader, hmm. Gardening, perhaps? Or," she catches on an idea, "Assistant Steward? But no, I won't press that."

Llilian lowers the pouch as you approach, the movement bringing a tiny brown head from the opening of the pouch, the tiny 'lizard watching Ismaye with unabashed curiosity, "I'm certain I'll help however I can. Our hold wasn't very large, but I've experience farming, both livestock and plantlife, though we specialized in grapes and Fellis trees, and I trade the same, for wine and dye, to sell that. Though, I'm afraid I'm not sure what you mean by Assistant Steward."

Ismaye waggles her fingers about, gracefuly, "Working with tithes and that kind of thing. It's an inside job, though, so I'm not so sure you'd be interested in it." She bobs her head, answering, perhaps, an internal query, "Shall I make you a gardener, then? Or a stablehand?"

Llilian considers for a moment, looking down at the pouch then back again, "I think, in my current situation, that the stablehand position would be easier for me. I still have a few more trade days to see to at the Hold, and I wouldn't risk a crop with my adsence, but a few stables, and a good schedule, and I think I would manage." She doesn't ask whose stables she'll be tending, from the tone of her voice, it's obvious she doesn't much mind what it is. The work's the same regardless.

Ismaye bobs her head calmly, "That sounds like a plan." One hand extracts itself from the other, and the pouch at her waist is dug into. Extracted from such is a knot; just a simple one, which she hands over with calm, but regal presentation, "Congratulations, Llilian, and welcome to the Weyr properly."

Llilian watches your searching with quite a bit of interest, eyes widening as she catches sight of the knot, hands setting the pouch, with an indignant trill from the tiny brown, at her waist, accepting the knot with as much dignity as she's able, a smile touching her eyes, "Thank you very kindly, Headmistress."

Ismaye once again quirks her smile at 'headmistress', but appears happy, and adds, "You know where the dorms are, yes? And the stables, too, no doubt?"

Llilian shakes her head, "a bit of colour rising to her cheeks, "I'm afraid I don't, I've only been here...twice now, and I haven't wanted to intrude by wandering wherre I didn't belong."

"No to," Ismaye asks, "Both, or just one?"

Llilian chews on her lip, wondering just how much further she has to go before she looks a complete fool. Oh well, hopefully the Headwoman is the forgiving sort, "To both."

Ismaye is very forgiving. In fact, she rarely gets even mad, as shown by the way her smile continues. "That's okay. I'll show you, then." She points towards one of the doorways, just close to where she stands. "That's the dorms. Where you'll sleep. Unless you wanted a private room?"

Llilian shakes her head, a bubble of laughter escaping her lips, "Oh no, I don't think I'd know what to do with myself with nothing but four walls and noone about to talk to. And Nutmeg," she glances down, at the little 'lizard, wh promptly lifts his head at his name, "He's terribly curious. I think he would enjoy new people. He likes you, as a matter of fact. I can tell."

Ismaye's cheeks pinken slightly, but she gains hold of herself, and leads her way into the dorm, "I'm glad to hear that."

You head into the resident caverns.

Llilian comes in from the southern cavern.

Llilian follows in silence, curious eyes glancing this way and that, as she tries to accustom herself to the place, and to the quite unsettling sensation of weight, and rock, all around herself.

The cavern is mostly quiet: most people are asleep, but there's enough noise that entrants don't stand out. "This," says Ismaye, quietly, "is where you'll live. Big, isn't it? Comfortable: so open! Just grab a cot, and settle in, I suppose."

Llilian's tone quickly matches your own, as she catches sigh of so many sleeping at this late hour, "It's wonderful. Not as...confining, as the tunnels. I was a bit afraid...to walk in them, to be honest."

Ismaye nods, looking sympathetic. "Oh, I can understand that. I mean, open spaces quite scare me. I grew up in a hold that was half underground. Quite different from the bowl outside."

Llilian's smile is friendly, more than a touch relieved, at your words, "I'm so glad you understad. I've been trying not to feel out of place, but I suppose you never quite get used to things that are completely different from the way you lived as a child."

Ismaye shakes her head, sighing slowly, "No, indeed. I know I'll never get used to the heat. But you'll learn to like it more, I think."

Llilian offers a smile, and a softer nod, "I hope that I will. I will try to do my best for you."

Ismaye giggles, then stops, waving a hand about. "Sorry, I'm not used to people saying they'll do things for me. I'm only new to Headwoman, you see. Just a normal resident before that."

Llilian smiles, "Well, I don't have any experience with Headwomen, but it seems to me that you're doing very well. You're good with people, or at least, with Nutmeg and I, and well, from what I know from the farmers that live near us at our hold, the friendlier you are, the more likely people are to want to do their best for you.

Ismaye stands up just a little straighter -- which is hard, considering she already walks like that, and offers, "I guess I like it, so it's easier."

Llilian smiles, as she steps back from the door to allow one of the residents to enter, "Perhaps, when we visit the stables, or while we are, could you tell me a little bit, about what you do?"

Ismaye'd forgotten about the stables, but begins to move towards the door now, "Oh, I suppose I can. It's not all that interesting though," she cautions.

Llilian smiles, as she again, allows you to lead the way, "Well, it must be, though, or else you would not have taken the position, or would have left already. But, it's all in the matter of taste. Many of the people i've met in my time here, don't find digging in the dirt very interesting either."

"It's all a matter of opinion, yes." Ismaye leads the way through the door, "Basically, I work with the lower caverns staff. Organising chore rosters, and the like."

You head back out to the southern cavern.

Llilian comes out of the resident caverns.

Llilian smiles, at that, "That must be quite a chore, no pun intended, Headwoman. If I recall my own childhood with my adopted father and sister, I recall how difficult it was at first for him to get us to do our chores."

Ismaye mm-hmms, softly, "Oh yes. It can be difficult. But then, some people are good with it. And I've some assistants who are marvellous with the younger, and more flippant ones." Not that Ismaye isn't young herself.

Long distance to Llilian: Ismaye sorries, I had a phone call.

You head into the larger confines of the northern cavern.

Llilian comes over from the southern cavern.

Llilian smiles, at that. surpressing an urge to laugh, "Well, I hope that I won't prove to be one of those. So long as noone in the stables minds my singing, I hope things will go well."

"Singing?" Ismaye giggles, leading the way through the caverns, "Oh, I don't think so. The runners might even like it!"

You follow the stairs upward to emerge in the living caverns.

Llilian comes up the flight of stairs from the inner caverns.

Llilian shakes her head, continuing to walk behind and slightly to the side of you. No point in getting lost again, if she can help it, "Well, that or they will dunk me in the water troughs, and that will quiet me quickly enough."

Ismaye giggles, heading towards the bowl outside, "Ooh, that sounds like fun. Well, at night, when you won't get sunburnt, I mean." Obsession: no sun!

You head out through the narrow tunnel to emerge in the bowl.

Llilian comes out of the narrow tunnel from the living caverns.

Llilian chuckles, "And depending on how...busy the stables are on any given day, it may be the only thing that lets you let me back into the lower caverns." A bright grin touches her lips, her pace quickening a bit to keep up with you. qui

Ismaye just giggles, and giggles. It's something not usually seen in her, but she seems to be taking it on just fine. The stable entrance is reached (there not being a room for it) and Ismaye pokes her head in. "It stinks," she admits, "But then, I'm not used to it."

Llilian seems to enjoy your amusement or at least the feeling of friendship that it brings, her own smile only widening, as she peeks ehr head around the side of the entrway into the stables. Nutmeg, for his part, lets out the oddest sound. it almost sounded like a sneeze, promptly launching himself from the pouch to fly closer to you, and away from the smell. He's comical, in his own way, with a chubby belly and hind quarters, but a slender neck and wingspan. it's rather amazing he can fly at all. here's to hoping he growns into his rather...portly lower body, "Well, I suppose that means I won't be lacking for work."

Ismaye jumps, quiet visibly, at Nutmeg's movement, but her frown turns into a smile, and an endearing smile at that, as she calms down again. "Hmm? Oh, yes. No, I doubt it. There's always plenty of work to be done around here, and in here especially."

Llilian's expression quickly changes, voice catching in a slight stammer, "I'm sorry. I didn't," a frown, as she frowns at the tiny 'lizard, "He didn't mean to frighten, he's curious, but he doesn't like the smell. He's very friendly. Nutmeg, this is Ismaye, our Headwoman, you be nice." She realy is a loon, talking to the thing as though it could understand everyword she said, but Nutmeg does seem curious, for all that, flying close, not quite approaching your shoulder, but gazing in that general direction. "I hope you don't mind. He's got a mind of his own, and he, well, he hasn't quite decided to do as he's told yet. Can you imagine? He tried to share a piece of raw meat with the Weyrleader last night, just flew it over in his beak, right into his face. He's...he's just a baby, so I hope people forgive him. I couldn't bear it if someone took him away from me, as he hasn't the manners a wherry could call their own."

"Oh, I understand," admits Ismaye. "In fact, I think he's rather cute. Endearing, definately." She turns to watch the firelizard, adding: "Hello, Nutmeg. You're rather handsome, did you know that?"

Nutmeg can't answer, to be certain, but he does as best he can, moving to attempt to greet you, as he does his human, when she wakes, tiny head flying forward to try to rub your cheek, Llilian's breath catching. He's going to get it now, she very nearly closes her eyes, cheeks blossoming bright red in enbarassment.

Ismaye giggles, "Ooh, that tickles, Nutmeg!" In fact, she's so busy giggling that she doesn't notice your reaction.

Llilian peeks, eyes squinting open. Alright, things are looking up. Ismaye hasn't batted him away yet. Your giggling has a light, infectious quality, and it returns the smile to Llilian's lips, though ehr cheeks take longer, in returning to their normal colour. Nutmeg's tiny voice joins in the laughter, a tiny trill as he scoots forward, a bit closer, a surrepticious attempt to cheek rub, and setle onto your shoulder at once, though he's very, very careful about it, and a bit jerky, as though he'd pull away at the slightest movement.

Ismaye certainly doesn't move. She's never been that close to a firelizard before. She still laughs, though, her cultured tone reaching almost higher than her contralto should take. "Ooh, he's lovely."

Warm. Nice smell. Happy, curious...the best thoughts he can manage, as his tiny body, wings whirring, and then folding, as he lands on your shoulder, tiny clawed hindlegs gripping, carefully, yes, he's a bit wobbly, but his nails are still baby soft, and his weight so small relatively, he's not hurting, one would hope at least. Once settled, he returns to cheek rubbing, soft trills breaking his silence, "I...I think he's quite taken with you, Headwoman."

Ismaye winces a little -- more in surprise than anything -- but calms a moment later, breathing out a short breath, "Ooh. He's so light. Amazing." She lifts her head, her enjoyment very much visible. "You think so? Incredible." She adds, with a faint frown, "You can call me Ismaye, if you want."

Llilian offers a soft smile, at that, "As you wish, Ismaye...and yes, I do think so. He's feeling...warm, and happy right now, and still curious. He likes to meet new people. he's very curious, at the Hold, though quite a few don't let him take liberties with their eprson, as you were kind enough to do, but still, he doesn't, he's not greeted anyone like that before, except me."

If Ismaye was smiling before, she's smiling all the more now. "I don't really believe it, Llilian. I'm sorry, I'm just not really used to dragonkin, and it's...disconcerting, a little."

Llilian giggles, at that, clapping her hand over her mouth, even Nutmeg pausing, to peer curiously at his human befre he returns to his current human of choice, "You know what, Ismaye? I'm not either. I never saw a dragon, or even a firelizard, until I came here, and Nutmeg found me. That was originally how I came to meet the Weyrleader. I came to the Weyr hoping someone could tell me a little bit, about how to take care of him." A pause, and then, "I still don't know, very much. I'm not even sure, if it's wrong to let him out like this. I mean, he's so friendly, but if people don't like him. I don't want to offend. But he's happy, and yes, with you, though...he's getting the tiniest bit hungry...but there isn't anything wrong with that, is there? With him liking to be with people aside from me?"

Ismaye ums, nodding, and shaking her head at the same time, "I don't know, but I don't think so. I think dragons can be like that, and firelizards, too."

Llilian opens her moth, about to reply, when a thought occurs to her, and a hint of alarm touches her eyes, "I haven't kept you, have I Ismaye? I, well, I always like to meet new friends, but I wouldn't want to keep you from your duties, that would be dreadfully selfish of me."

Ismaye points towards the sky, noting, with a smile, "It's very, very early in the morning. What kind of duties would I do at this time of the day? No, you haven't kept me from anything, I promise."

Llilian's smile returns, at that, relief evident in her expression, "I'm glad. I do like your cmpany, I guess I just worry too much." A pause, then, as she glances towards the sky, "Would you like to have the morning meal with me? You could...you could take Nutmeg with you, if you wanted to."

Ismaye wiggles her free shoulder, as if getting rid of an itch, and then smiles. Well, she's always been smiling, but still. "I'd love to, Llilian. That'd be wonderful."

Llilian's expression is warm, and bright, as you accept, "Well, I'm glad then. Shall we go down there now?" A pause, and then, "if he gets a little bit wobbly, which he tends to do with his tummy and all, he likes to be carried in hands as well, easier for curling up and sleeping after a good meal, I expect." A grin, as she allows you to again lead, if you so choose.

Ismaye chuckles, and begins walking, "I'll watch for it. It wouldn't do for him to fall or anything."

You head through the narrow tunnel and into the bustling living caverns.

Llilian comes in through the narrow tunnel from the bowl.

Llilian chuckles, as she walks with you, "Sometimes, he's so silly, I think perhaps he already has fallen...on his head. But, perhaps all 'lizards are like that. Ismaye, if you wish to sit, I'll bring the morning meal, I don't mind."

"He fell on his -head-?" Ismaye giggles, "The poor thing." She pauses, looking between tables and serving table. "If you really think so..." She waits a moment more, and then sits, "As long as next time, if there is a next time, I get to do it, huh?"

Llilian shakes her head, though her expression is still amused "Agreed. We'll take turns. And if I'm here, in the early morning, to clean the stables, I'm sure we'll see each other. I'll be right back." And then she's off, heading towards the small area where the kitchen is, peeking her head in, before she goes about readying breakfast for, well, three.

Ismaye chuckles, "Exactly." She watches you go, still smiling. Her muscles must be getting a good work out.

Nutmeg, content that this new human seems friendly to him, settles comfortably onto your shoulder, eyes whirling at the smell of food, thoughts turning to his favourite activity, but he's content, to wait, for the moment, scooted up a bit on your shoulder, to share your warmth.

Llilian returns, in due course, carrying a tray with two breakfasts set out, along with two cups of klah, as well as juice, and a small platter of raw wherry, for the little one, feet skirting tables as she works her way back to you, "I forgot to ask what you liked, so I told them a bit of everything."

You do realise that I'll never eat all that," giggles Ismaye, in a very much excitable mood. She tilts her head to watch Nutmeg, as best she can, without disturbing him, as she adds, towards you, "But it smells good. As long as the meat isn't for us."

Llilian laughs softly, as she sets the tray down on the table, "Perhaps, wel, the meatpies will keep, I will pack up what we don't eat for a meal while I work. And no, the meat's for the pit on your shoulder."

Meat, hungry, those are Nutmeg's thoughts, as he perks up, releasing Ismaye's shoulder to settle, wings whirring, beside his plate, gentle green eyes lifting to the Headwoman, and then to the plate, before he begins to eat, in almost delicate bites. "He must be trying to make a good impression on you." A grin curls her lips, before she begins to set out a small serving of each offering for you, as well as the juice and klah, as she doesn't know what you prefer.

Ismaye grabs for the klah, which she takes a quick, but rather delicate gulp of, setting it down quickly. "Sorry: thirsty. It happens." She peers at the food, eyes lighting up, "You do know how to pick the right things," she marvels, eyeing Nutmeg a moment, and then heading back to human-food.

Llilian blushes, at your words. Seems she's not too practiced on accepting compliments, even such simple ones as this, "Well, I just decided you probably wouldn't want the porridge they were preparing for the little ones. And as for the rest, I closed my eyes and grabbed." Her eyes sparkle with humour. She's teasing, to be sure.

"Actually," admits Ismaye, mildly, "Porridge isn't that bad. Although, " her eyes sparkle, "I'll admit that I prefer it in the middle of winter up by High Reaches, rather than the middle of summer down here." In other words: it's too hot. "Blind grabbing? Indeed."

Llilian's grin only widens, "I can imagine it suits much better there than here." As for the grabbing, well, she chooses not to comment, instead taking a sip of klah, before she picks up one of the pies, fingers breaking the pastry into bite-sized pieces, "Do you like it here, Ismaye, I've never been anywhere else."

Ismaye's caught taken aback: perhaps no one has ever asked her this question before? "I..I don't know. I suppose I do, yes. I love my job, and I've made some friends. But then, at the same time, I miss the hold where I grew up, and I miss the cold." And the heat, and sun, is just far too much. "But yes, I like it here." She takes up a piece of fruit, nibbling at it.

Llilian listens, with quiet interest, before she ventures a nod, and a few words of her own, "I didn't come, from as far away as you, but I know how it feels, to miss home. Sometimes, at the hold, I wake up, and I can almost see the fellis trees outside my window, back home, and the sounds of Myrila, she's my adopted sister, singing while she picks berries in the early morning, before the sun becomes to hot."

Ismaye chews, and then swallows, her own head nodding. "You're not far from home, indeed. You can visit. But then, so can I, if I con the right people." This comes with a smile: it's amusing to her. "But we'll both settle in, I'm sure."

Llilian nods, at that, eating in silence, for a moment, offering bits of her pie to Nutmeg, whenever he cranes his neck over in her direction, which is fairly often, despite the fact that his plate isn't yet empty, "I'm certain that I will. I only hope it won't be too hard to return home, when the trading season is over."

Ismaye takes another bite, and raises her eyes to regard you: "So you will go home, then? You're not staying here for good?"

Llilian shakes her head, "I don't know, honestly. Myrila took over the farm, and I know she was thinking of taking on a few extra hands, to help with the harvesting. Papa is too old anymore, to do it. If she can't find anyone, which she might not, we don't make much, and they wouldn't be paid as well as the larger holds, I'll have to go home, to help her."

Ismaye's head nods slowly, inclining upwards with each bob. "I guess you have to do what you have to do. Still, it's a shame." She nibbles, again, and then takes a sip of klah. "Do you want to go back?"

Llilian pauses, considering the question, as though, she hasn't ever considered the question herself. her eyes fall, fingers of her left hand rubbing the burn scars on her right, before she tugs down the long sleeved shirt, even the heat of summer doesn't seem to dislodge from her, "Yes, I suppose, and no. I would miss Papa, and Myrila, but when I'm there...it's so close to, to where my first house was, and it hurts, to remember, my real mother and father, even as happy as remembering them makes me, it hurts too, and then I just want to run away and never go back. And then I see pap, or Myrila, and I don't want to leave them either."

Ismaye's eyebrows raise, but she doesn't press her obvious questions. Well, not far, anyway, "Real mother and father?"

Llilian nods, voice softening, something, in her feelings, or her thoughts drawing Nutmeg away to curl against her hand, tail around her wrist, "We lived in the first hold, north of Papa's. Mother and father had a small Felllis plot, and grapes as well, same as Papa. I was very little, I didn't think there was anywhere in the world but home. When I was nine, I was coming home with my day's worth of grapes. It wasn't very many of course, but I liked to help." A pause, before she forces herself to continue, "The house, was completely afire. I don't remember much, about what happened next, only the heat, and the burning, and then cold, and waking up at Papa's." A pause, as she unfastens her sleeves, pushing the up, to reveal, that indeed the burns, in lines and circles as if from broken, or breaking wood, do extend at the least, up along her arms, "Papa, Uwen, says that he found me in the ruins of the house, burned like this...I had been trying to dig them out." A frown, as she pulls back down the sleeves, "He took me in, raised me as his own daughter after that. He saved my life."

Ismaye pales, if one her shade of pale can do such a thing, and lowers her eyes. "I'm sorry." It's just about all she can say.

Llilian shakes her head, a smile returning, as she settles old memories into the past, and the back of her mind, where they belong, "It's alright. I still have them in here," fingers rise to tap the place above her heart, "And I visit their memorials, and talk to them when I can, so they're not lost, completely. It's just hard, sometimes, to remember. You shouldn't worry. or you, little pretty." That, to Nutmeg, as she rubs a gentle fingertip at his head, before he toddles back towards his meal.

Ismaye nods, slowly. She's just putting another mouthful of food into her, er, mouth, when one of the younger assistant Headwomen runs up, "Issy! The Steward passed out...again." Ismaye blinks, glances towards Llilian with a sigh, and indicates her departure, "I better sort this out. Who knows what's going on, with this other steward..." She trails off, and makes a run for it.

You follow a flight of stairs deeper into the Weyr caverns.

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