slice the day into pieces [open]

[kite]

"Cut these."

The drudge indicated a pile of tubers with a negligent hand and promptly wandered back to whatever hole he'd come out of; Malta couldn't say she was sorry to see him go. He had the surly, small-eyed look of a man with few thoughts to speak of, and she'd never gotten along with that type. Frankly, if you couldn't turn your brain on now and then you weren't worth the air you sucked in your face-hole, or so Malta believed, though she'd doubtless have put it in more proper terms. With a final disparaging glance after the man, she turned her attention to the tubers.

It looked like they'd been cleaned of dirt, but little else. They'd have to be peeled before they were cut, she reasoned, or she'd be making more work for herself attempting to slice the peels off smaller pieces. Naturally, there was no knife in sight, but she helped herself to a thick-handled specimen sticking out of a pile of clean dishes. It was entirely unsuited for peeling anything smaller than a runner, and she spent several minutes rooting through the pile before she located a few other knives, one of which would serve her purposes. The others she brought with her. This wasn't precisely her chore, but it was one of those listed for Candidates. She simply had too much time on her hands, and a rather greater desire to be useful than most people evinced.

It wasn't difficult to locate a bucket for scraps, and she was soon dropping neat curls of tuber-peel with comforting regularity. This was something she was no stranger to, and the familiarity made her feel significantly more relaxed than she'd felt in days. Shale joined her with a welcoming trill, settling contentedly onto her shoulder, his tail wrapped possessively around her neck. He sent her a few images of a Green firelizard, one she'd seen before; she guessed he was befriending her, whoever she was. Unusual for her standoffish little 'lizard, but probably a good thing. She wondered if he was implying that she should make a friend or two, then scoffed at the idea. It was unlikely he was quite that intelligent, even if he seemed particularly sharp for an Ebony, and anyway, she couldn't think of a single friend she'd had since Impressing him. He'd have no reason to think she was even capable of it.

Was she? Perhaps she'd spent so many Turns with her walls up so far she simply didn't know how to bring them down. Granted, the drudge was probably not a good example, but hadn't she judged him and dismissed him immediately, without even a flicker of interest in getting to know him? Hmm. Her hands paused in their rhythmic peeling, and she lost herself in her thoughts, dark eyes blankly regarding the pile of tubers. Unconcerned, Shale made himself comfortable. She did this sort of thing rather a lot.

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[Zero]

Hours after the fact and Gaius was still mentally kicking himself. You always volunteer. If you don’t you’re stuck with the less than favorable chores. So why did he have to choose that exact moment when the candidatemaster asked for volunteers to not pay attention? He had let his mind wander and ended up missing out on getting his favorite chore of the day, which was assisting the beastmaster. Instead he had been tasked with helping out in the kitchens. What joy. No doubt they were going to make him scrub the ceiling or something of equal unimportance.

The first drudge took one look at him and immediately sent him off to the lower caverns to fetch a crate of various utensils and plates. Of course he dragged the time out as much as he could, hoping the longer he took the quicker the kitchen staff might dismiss him and he could move onto better things. Of course that wasn’t the case. By the time Gaius returned, nearly two candle marks later, the drudge who had sent him was furious. But instead of kicking him out, they shoved an old brush and a bucket of soapy water in the candidates hands and gave him a shove towards the back of the kitchens.

He swore under his breath and had half a mind to toss the bucket at the back of the drudges abnormally large head. That was when he finally took notice of the other person currently occupying this part of the kitchens. His eyes wandered from the assortment of knives laid out at her disposal, to the bucket of scraps sitting by her feet, before finally taking a good look at her. She looked familiar. Now where had he seen her before? He struggled for a brief moment to place her face before it clicked together in his mind. Candidate lessons, that was it! Maya-no, Malta was her name. “So, you got stuck with kitchen detail for the day as well?” With a shake of his bucket he gestured to the peeled tuber in her hands. “You’re doing that wrong by the way.”

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[kite]

Malta started slightly at a man's voice, hastily trying to rein her thoughts in from where they'd wandered. She turned to face him, eyebrows lifted faintly over her dark eyes. After a moment, she quirked the sides of her mouth up in something like a smile. That was what you were supposed to do, right? Smile? She glanced down, following his indication, to the tuber sitting in her idle hands.

"Not precisely," she confessed, "I volunteered. Too much time on my hands, but if I'd known what I was going to be asked to do..." Her expression said her opinion of the work more eloquently than she could have with words. There was definite disdain in the set of her mouth and her lowered brows. She struggled with opposing views of work like this. On the one hand, she valued hard work very highly, and couldn't fault anyone for doing a job well. And on the other, she was just a little more worthwhile than your average tuber-peeler.

"I don't doubt it, considering I've just been holding the thing for the last few minutes," she answered evenly. It was difficult for her not to react strongly and negatively to criticism, and she had to remind herself that this was not in any way her sort of task. Still, logically considering that he probably had more experience than she did and not feeling slighted by the implication that she didn't know what she was doing were too different things, and she set the tuber down a bit stiffly.

"Mind showing me a better way?" she asked, forcing her pride into its customary tiny box. She put more value in doing a good job than she did on feeling good about herself, but this was distinctly uncomfortable for her, and there was no denying that. Studying the man briefly, she placed him. He was Gaius, not one of the Candidates who'd said something particularly stupid at their memorable first lesson. Beyond that, she only remembered that he wasn't a Crafter, but a Holder. So far he didn't seem too bad, but then again, you never knew.

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[Zero]

Gaius observed her body language, from her seemingly unsure smile to the grip she had on the knife. He tried his best not to smirk. Maybe “you’re doing it wrong” wasn’t the best way he could have said that. Ah well, too late to take it back now.

“I’m sorry that was rude. What I meant was that there’s an easier way to do what you’re doin’.” He smiled, setting the bucket on the floor and dropping the brush in the soapy water. “And it’s really not your fault anyway. The drudges around here…I’m betting they don’t have half a brain to share between the lot of ’em.” Glancing around he spotted a dusty, little, old stool sitting off in a corner. Crossing the room, he pulled the stool out from its corner and dragged it over to where she was sitting and after kicking some of the bigger cobwebs off, he took a seat. “Now, like I said they really tried to set you up for failure here. Which doesn’t surprise me, but anyways,” Gaius plucked an unpeeled tuber from the pile. “The trick with tubers is to boil ’em before you try and peel ’em. For one it makes it a hell of a lot easier on you and the skin practically falls off and two, you’re not sitting here for hours hacking away at ‘em and throwing away good meat along with the skin.”

“But since we don’t have that option…” Chewing his bottom lip he dug through the small pile of knives she had gathered till he found one that caught his eye. He pulled an extremely thin blade that had a slight curve to it from the pile and tested its sharpness on a discarded peel before, with a small nod to himself, deeming it satisfactory to work with. “Since we don’t have that option we get to do it the hard way. So if you start from the top, instead of somewhere on the side, and using your thumb to help guide the knife along, you should end up with nice, wide peelings without taking too much away from the tuber itself.” Demonstrating as he spoke, Gaius flinched a little as the knife slipped and nicked his index finger. “Of course be careful you don’t catch your fingers…” Grabbing a cloth from the countertop, Gaius quickly wiped away the blood while applying a little pressure. It was only a minor cut, nothing too deep, it should stop bleeding on its own in a few moments.

“And who’s that handsome looking fellow?” He motioned to the little ebony sitting on her shoulder, and wondered how long the little fire lizard had been there.

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[kite]

While she wouldn't have admitted to being a bit offended in the first place, Gaius's apology went a long way towards smoothing any ruffled feathers, and Malta visibly relaxed, even answering his smile with a small one of her own. Hers widened at his voiced opinion of the drudges; she agreed wholeheartedly. Watching in silence as he dragged over a stool for himself and settled down, Malta quickly had to admit he knew more than she did. He spoke with easy assurance, making her guess he was very familiar with this task, and boiling a tuber before peeling it made logical sense. This realization of his expertise in the area made her reasonably comfortable accepting direction from him, rather more than she would have been otherwise.

She held her silence while he selected a knife for himself, not considering that it might have seemed unfriendly to do so. She was simply more interested in what he was doing than in interjecting her own thoughts. As he demonstrated and explained simultaneously, she watched closely, and mimicked his actions. Her knife pulled a wide peel neatly off, under careful pressure from her thumb, and she lifted her head to beam at him as the tuber's skin dropped into the bucket. "You certainly know what you're doing," she complimented him warmly, just in time for him to cut himself. The timing made her grin, but she spoke quickly to prevent him from taking it the wrong way. "I'm sure you only did that so I'd know what not to do," she said with a nod, her eyes flashing sly amusement, "You're a thorough teacher." She didn't offer any help; the cut was small enough, and he'd promptly applied pressure, which was all that could really be done. If someone already knew what to do, she would hardly bother them with unnecessary advice.

She let her knife push another neat peel away, and glanced up at her 'lizard when Gaius mentioned him. "This is Shale," she introduced him, and the little Ebony regarded Gaius seriously for a moment with whirling eyes, before voicing a dignified chirrup. "He likes you; usually he ignores people he doesn't know. Probably that handsome comment won you some points," she added, lifting a hand to run her fingertips down Shale's spine, "They're all vain creatures, firelizards. Do you have any?" She didn't think he'd had one on his shoulder at the Lesson, and there were certainly none in evidence now, but they seemed fairly common at the Weyr, and more than one of the Candidates had at least one bright hide near them at all times.

"Have you been at the Weyr long, or is your tuber-peeling expertise from before?" she asked, curious. It intrigued her how people ended up here, especially when that had never been a part of their plan. Dragons. Always changing everything.

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[Zero]

From the corner of his eye, Gaius watched as Malta followed along with his instructions and grinned when she came away with her first wide, swath of tuber peel. Success! And she didn’t seem to mind how he butted into her chore, at least not yet anyway. “Yeah well, just call me the master peeler.” He chuckled, not missing her teasing smile when he cut his finger. “Of course, you get the whole learning experience with me. All the do’s and don’ts covered in one convenient lesson.” Pulling the cloth from his finger he examined the cut and happily noted that the bleeding had ceased before balling up and throwing the soiled cloth in a corner with other discarded towels and garments.

“Me? Oh no, no I don’t. I wish I did though.” He watched the little ebony with a small smile for a moment longer before shrugging and returning his attention to the tuber in his hands. “But my father was convinced they were more trouble than they were worth. Plus, what spare marks we had would have only managed an extra small egg and the odds of getting a dud were just too high.” He dragged the knife over the tuber a final time and tossed the peel in the bucket with the rest of the trimmings before setting the tuber to the side and picking up another. “I’m hoping to be able to get my hands on a decent egg or two this next Gather.”

At her next question, Gaius set the knife and partially peeled tuber down before rubbing at the back of his neck. “Yes, actually. I’ve been here two turns, going on three soon actually. I was searched out from my family farm by a passing brown and his rider. I thought I was going to Impress in the last Hatching, but I guess the blue changed his mind at the last minute.” He ran a hand through his hair, quickly ruffling it as he shrugged the old memory away. “But who knows? Maybe I’ll get lucky this time around and my dragon is waiting for me in one of those eggs out there. What about you? How'd you wind up here?”

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[kite]

"Convenient, indeed," she responded, amused. It was an excellent sign that he was willing to play along; she knew too many people who might have bridled at the imagined slight. That suited her not at all, particularly since her sense of humor was decidedly skewed towards the sarcastic. Someone likely to take offense was someone she had little business being around. Surreptitiously, she ran her eyes over his small cut, and nodded once to herself, satisfied. The bleeding had stopped, and he'd promptly dismissed the whole matter, precisely as she would have in his place. She considered advising him to wash it later, but guessed he knew that well enough, and kept her peace.

Listening, she kept her eyes on her work, not willing to risk her fingers, but her head tilted very slightly to one side, a sure sign she was paying attention. "They certainly can be," she agreed with his father's opinion, "Even Shale was more than a handful in his first Turn. Training him was an...experience." Her firelizard was rather more independent than most, and that had made training him something of a challenge. Fortunately, he was motivated to please her, and very, very motivated by food, particularly fish. A half-mark would keep her in minnows for a sevenday, and he'd quickly shaped up after that. "What colors would you hope for, if you do buy the eggs?" she glanced briefly up at him as she switched her peeled tuber for a second. She'd noticed he'd finished his before her, and felt a moment of irritation. She'd get better.

Malta's brow wrinkled faintly at the thought of nearly Impressing, but ultimately ending up alone. She wanted to know more about that, about how it felt, in a rather vain desire to handle it better if it happened to her, but she doubted anyone would want to discuss how rejection felt. She let it go, a bit regretfully, and turned her attention to his question. "I transferred here," she answered, "I'm a dragonhealer, and my first posting after walking the tables was to Southern Weyr. I was born in Southern Hold; I imagine that's why they sent me there. I always wanted to come to Trelis, though, and when the opportunity to transfer came, I took it." She didn't add that it had been something of a relief to escape her family, even if she'd begun building a better relationship with her father.

"It makes me nervous, though. I've spent most of my life in either Fort or Southern Weyr, and not once has a dragon tried to Search me. I come to Trelis, and a bare day later, an Amethyst tells me I should Stand. I don't want to offend her, but I wonder if she was wrong," she added conversationally, then lifted her eyes from her work to meet his, "Would you mind telling me what it's like, Standing and not Impressing? I don't think I can expect anything else, not realistically, and I have this idea that if I know what's coming, I'll handle it better." Her tone and eyes were serious, even if there was a touch of self-deprecating humor in her confession about her motives. She knew from long experience that thinking through something only mildly ameliorated the trauma of experiencing it. In some ways, she was nearly angry with Plaeth for getting her hopes up. She supposed she should be grateful for the chance, but if it were to end in failure, after Turns of Standing, it didn't seem like much of a chance in the first place.

Impatiently, she reined her attention back to the task at hand. She had dragonhealing, a profession that was valued, and one that she genuinely loved. It wasn't as though she'd be left entirely bereft of purpose just because a dragon didn't look her way.

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[Zero]

What colors? Well now he had to think for a moment. If she had asked what color dragon he saw himself with the answer would have spilled out promptly, but fire lizards? That was a different story completely, one he hadn’t really considered. “I hadn’t really thought about it…” He paused for a moment to gather his final thoughts. “Maybe a blue. They come in such a vast array of hues after all, I think it would be interesting to see what sort of pattern could hatch from an egg I picked. Or perhaps an ebony would be nice too.” He smiled at the ‘lizard perched on her shoulder once more. How could something so small and so calm have been such a menace in his younger days? “Well whatever trick you found must have worked for training. I think he’s the most well behaved ‘lizard I’ve ever run across.” Of course that couldn’t be said of most peoples miniature companions, most were a menace to society.

“Dragonhealer, really? That’s quite the profession.” There was clear admiration in his voice as he spoke. Truly he was almost a little jealous of her. Her, the girl who had all the training and skills in the healing of dragons, and him…well he was just the poor farm boy from the outskirts of Benden who had an expertise for peeling tubers. It was a little embarrassing. “A future dragonhealing dragon rider, I can only image what incredible insight that would give you into your field.”

He listened politely as Malta shared her tale of how she made it to Trelis but when the question of his past near impression came up he shifted a bit uncomfortably. He should have seen it coming, especially since he so freely spilled the beans. It was only natural that she would be curious. “Well, it’s…it’s hard to put into words actually.” Gaius scratched idly at his chin, his gaze wandering to the ceiling, as he recalled the prior memory. “It was a rush. You’re standing around all these shaking eggs and you’ve convinced yourself that one of them is for you, that one of those new dragons is destined to choose you for its partner. I mean, it has to right? Why would you be Searched if there wasn’t something the dragons saw in you that they wanted their offspring to see as well?” His gaze fell back to the floor and out of frustration he ruffled his hair. After a few moments, Gaius let his eyes meet hers and offered a small smile. “Honestly? It was heartbreaking. But, I got over it. It took a few days but once you’re back in the candidate swing of chores and studying, you’ve only got the next clutch to look forward to.”

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[kite]

Malta nodded her agreement with his choices, turning her head to smile at Shale as Gaius flattered him. The little 'lizard's chest puffed out, and he trilled to Gaius conversationally, his eyes whirling slowly in a pleased blue. He quickly brushed his head against Malta's cheek, as if to reassure her that she was still his. "He'd like to think he's well-mannered by nature," she said, her tone gently chiding her 'lizard, but there was definite affection in her manner as she stroked his small eye-ridges.

"It is," she agreed easily, the corners of her mouth turning up in a smile as she bent to her tuber. She truly loved what she did. "You're an optimist," she observed, amused, "But yes, having a dragon would make the healing easier. A dragon who won't talk to a stranger will usually talk to one of their own kind. I've had to use translators before." She shook her head slightly; that was one aspect of her job that could be rather irritating. More than once a dragon had refused to speak to her, and sometimes their Riders were all but insensible with their Bonded's pain, or simply uncooperative. A dragon would be a great help; she had to admit that.

Gaius's discomfort was obvious, but, well, Malta had to know. She did feel rather guilty for asking him to bare himself this way, and felt worse as he met her eyes and confessed the heartbreak in the whole ordeal. "Sorry," she said after a moment, unsure what else to say, her own dark eyes falling to the floor, "It was...thoughtless of me to ask." She wished she could offer him some sort of hope or guarantee, but she had no more certainty of Impressing than he did, and couldn't guess how Hatching would go. "If it helps -and I'm sure it doesn't- you're the sort of person who should Impress," she insisted quietly, then added with a touch of humor, "At least as far as I know."

Awkwardly, she reached out and patted his shoulder. She'd seen other people do that. Faranth, but it felt unnatural. "That was weird," she admitted, "I thought I should...nevermind." She waved a hand negligently, urging him to let it go. Perhaps this social thing would get easier with time, but so far, it was kind of stressful. "Thanks, though. For telling me," she said sincerely, lifting her eyes to his briefly.

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[Zero]

He laughed outright as the ebony, apparently pleased with the light praise from the man, puffed out his chest just a little more and chirped at him. He was quite the little character after all.

“Never thought of it that way but yeah, I suppose I am.” He grinned sheepishly. “I guess translators can have their uses. Bet things can get tricky when you run into one of those moody dragons that refuse to talk to anyone, eh?” Gaius was certain he sure as shards couldn’t do it. Willingly go face to face with a injured and unpredictable dragon that could lash out in pain or in anger at any moment? No thank you. He did have to hand it to her though, the woman had guts if she was willing to get up close and personal with injured dragons.

At her apology, he managed a small smile. “It’s fine, really. Don’t worry about it.” As far as he was concerned there really was nothing to apologize for. It’s not as though she had brought it up to purposely wound his ego. “Thanks, it would be nice to after waiting all this time. If it doesn’t happen though, I’m sure it won’t be the end of the world.” In an attempt to shrug off the awkward cloud that seemed to descend over their conversation, Gaius looked her way with a grin and playful wink. “Besides, I’m sure there’s a high demand out there for a master tuberpeeler.”

By now he had turned his attention back to the knife in his hands, his eyes on the door, as he listened to the commotion going on in the other half of the kitchens. That’s when he felt a light, hesitant, pat to his shoulder. Arching a brow, Gaius slowly turned his head to look her way, clear amusement written on his face as his mouth twisted into a smirk. As she uttered her sincere thanks, however, he quickly wiped the smirk from his face and gave a small nod in her direction. “Anytime.”

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[kite]

Malta quirked her mouth into a wry smile. "Tricky is an excellent way to describe those situations," she agreed, "And moody dragons often choose moody Riders; it's marvelous when neither of them will tell you where it hurts." She shook her head a little, remembering more than one awkward incident. "I do think it's odd, how so many dragons are reluctant to speak to other humans. It seems a small thing to me, but perhaps touching minds with a stranger is unpleasant," she wondered aloud, "I can think of more than a few people with minds I'd prefer to stay well clear of." Some of them were current Candidates, as a matter of fact. She had to wonder if any of her more, ah, distasteful fellows would be left Standing. In more than one case, she suspected that would be better for the Weyr, unless the dragons were capable of working great changes in the people they chose.

"Undoubtedly," she returned his grin without reservation. It was rare to see an honest smile break Malta's face, but it had some charm; certainly more than her typical expression, eyes narrowed and brows lowered, mouth pressed into a firm line. She wondered what he'd do if he failed again, and again, until he aged out. She had her craft, and would stay at Trelis regardless unless forced to transfer elsewhere; would he stay as well? She knew Candidates were typically made welcome if they didn't Impress, and she was sure he'd find a way to make himself useful. She disliked the idea of him leaving, since he was the first person she'd really had a chance to speak with, and while she'd probably forge at least a few friendships in the next few turns, she much preferred to think he'd be around. It was very reassuring for her to have someone she knew wandering around the Weyr; much more reassuring than being a stranger in a strange place. Still, she didn't think it was appropriate to ask; she'd just dragged him into an uncomfortable conversation, and it would be rather rude to drag him into another one.

She was rather grateful he didn't say anything to her awkward overture, even if he had looked awfully amused. It made it easier to pretend she hadn't done it, or that she'd done it better. "So what do you do at home? Besides competitive tuber-peeling, of course," she asked, her dark eyes flashing amusement quickly in his direction as she took up another tuber, "And where is home, exactly?" Nosy, perhaps, but it seemed a safe enough topic. Faranth forbid he have some sort of horrible home life and she drive this conversation back into the same awkward ditch.

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[Zero]

He paused to think it over. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Moody riders equal moody dragons, which equates to just a big pain in the ass for everyone. Nobody needs that.” Absentmindedly he began picking at the cut to his finger, fidgeting was more like it, as a restlessness washed over him. On any other day he would perfectly fine taking a well deserved, and decidedly long, break from whatever chores he was tasked with, but not today. No, today apparently he needed to be kept busy, at least until the job was done. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. Shooting a silent glare at the bucket of soapy water he left sitting on the other side of the room, Gaius pushed himself to his feet, brushing a few stray peels from his trousers.

From somewhere in the other part of the kitchens he heard a drudge shouting. “Calm down, the damn walls aren’t going anywhere.” Rolling his eyes, the candidate crossed the room, rolling up his sleeves as he went, and snatched up the bucket, sloshing the contents around and even spilling some of the suds on his pants. “Me? Ah, well nothing incredibly exciting I’m afraid.” Plunging his hand in the water he searched till his fingers wrapped around the handle of the brush. Removing the brush and setting the bucket aside, Gaius began working on a particularly grimy section of the wall. “But I guess you can say I was a farmhand on my families farm up at Benden Hold. I could never see myself working the land for the rest of my life and I wasn’t terribly interested in being a Harper like my mother so I did what any kid would if given the opportunity…” Pausing to dunk the brush back in the water, Gaius spared a glance over his shoulder at her. “I hopped on that dragon faster than you could blink.”

Dragging the back of his hand across his brow, Gaius turned his attention back to the wall and quickly re-wet the brush before going to work on the wall once more. “You know I haven’t really given much thought to what craft I’d want to go in if I never Impress. I don’t think I could go back to farming. Maybe a vintner if things get desperate.” He shrugged, pausing in his task to look over what he had accomplished so far. It wasn’t much. Who knew scrubbing walls would be so difficult?

“What about you? Why a dragonhealer of all things? Besides your love for moody dragons."

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