In the Dining Hall
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Jueann smiles at Christatha as she heads for the Dining Hall. "Care to join me?"
Christatha smiles a little, shyly, thinks for a moment, and nods. "All right," she says, crossing the room to join her.
Christatha walks to the Great Hall.
Jueann goes to the Great Hall.
Jueann walks through the double doors leading into the dining hall.
Dining Hall
Looking over all the 'standard' of Ista Hold is set on the west wall, right over a long table, used by the Lord or Lady during formal receptions or dinners. Scattered randomly around the rest of the room are smaller tables, able to seat no more than ten people each and a few big enough for only two or three. Although functional, a certain feeling of comfort fills the room; soft, abundant lighting and warm wood further the effect. A hearth in the southeast corner of the hall is known as the 'klah' corner, while another hearth often bears a stew and bread at the side when the kitchens aren't active. Doors lead north, east, and south to other areas.
Perched on the mantle above the main hearth is a blue firelizard.
You see Sticky Red Klah Mug, Bright Orange Klah Mug, Chipped White Klah Mug, Happy Yellow Klah Mug, and Plain Black Klah Mug here.
Andron, Tonalie, Morallen, Yatyl, and Christatha are here.
Obvious exits:
Great Hall, Flying Mug, Kitchen
Jueann enters looking around a little stressed but she does have a slight smile on her face as she enters with one of her mentees. Seeing Yatyl and Andron, she gives a wave. "Ohh, Sorry I hope I'm not intruding...."
Tonalie blinks at the not totally foreign, but rather unexpected sensation of a nuzzle. She twists in her seat, a smile replacing the confusion as Morallen's familiar visage slides into view. "Well, now... Better to ask forgiveness than permission, eh? Maybe we just won't ask her?" she winks, fingers flicking out to dance on the back of his hand as she turns back to Andron. "You make it sound like..." her flippant reply is cut off by Jueann's entrance, whom she greets with a pleasant nod.
Christatha follows Jueann, a quiet golden shadow walking on little cat feet - or rather, little human feet that don't make much noise. She offers a smile and a little wave of her slim fingers to any who might glance in her direction, but doesn't really volunteer much else.
Andron is rather disappointed by the anti-climatic greeting that Morallen's sneaking lead to, an amused look turned on the other male. "Like what? We'd never survive without you? Truly, we would not." The small table is slowly filling, only a few seats now left with the addition of the Healer; other figures fill the tables of the Hall, lunchtime crowds upping the general level of noise. The warder slowly nibbles on the pear, watching the interactions of his tablemates with laughing green eyes. A hand lifts to wave Jueann over, proper reply made impossible the fruit he has in his hand, mid-bite.
Jueann moves over to Andron, smiling, "May I join you? I have this craving for something sweet and a bit of wine and a bit of peace and quiet to enjoy them?"
Yatyl wanders in slowly himself, dressed rather warmly for the Istan weather, and still looking a touch under the weather. He waves a little to family, friends and bosses before finding himself a seat somewhat near by him. He coughs a little into his hand, but otherwise seems more fit. He slides in next to the departing warder and raises an eyebrow at the healer and companion. A nod is given to Jueann and apprentice. "Hello everyone.."
Christatha selects a piece of fruit and nibbles on it, hanging back a little but certainly within earshot. It's as though she's not entirely certain whether being asked to join Jueann is an invitation that continues after they arrive at their destination ...
"If you want peace and quiet," Andron says in an undertone as he stands, flashing the Harper a smile, "You'd best look far, far away from here. The stickbuns are good, though. I just saw a drudge bring out a tray, so I bet you could snitch some fresh ones if you desire sweet." A nod is accorded to his tablemates, a wink tipped at Tonalie. "And speaking of sweet, it's such sweet sorrow to part, but food is only a good excuse for so long. Good day, all."
Andron slinks out of the dining hall through the double doors into the great hall.
Morallen would make a more climactic greeting, but well... he's still waiting on that little matter of finding out exactly whether or not the project work, the grilling by the ranking Healers, and all those extra shifts in the infirmary are going to lead to a longer tail to his knot. So, accordingly, he'll behave himself, giving Andron a quick grin before winking to Tonalie and noting that "That sounds like an excellent plan... Hullo there, Yatyl, cold any better?" Nods are given to the Harpers, too, but since he's not met them, he can't really greet them, and settles for munching on some grapes after that.
Synte walks in from the great hall.
Jueann blinks as Andron left but sighs anyways. Seeing Christie, "Ahh Christie, come join me. How are your studies? You've been very secretive lately." As she finds a spot near Yatyl, "I'm not interrupting am I? Can I join you?" She is getting flustered again, can't you tell?
Tonalie winks back at the warder before turning her attention to the frail looking Yaytl, tsking to herself as he coughs. "Stubborn males," she mutters to herself before beaming at Morallen, "Exempting yourself, of course, dear-heart"
Scuffle. There's the faintest whisper of leather and soft cloth, the barest of shadows intruding from the doorway -- all cloak and dagger, Synte arrives, hood of his coat pulled into a low peak, disguising his features. His limp, however, does make him... a bit more obvious than he likes. (Sigh.)
Yatyl shrugs a little and smiles at Morallen. "Much better, though this is the first time Mynd has let me out of the room." He grins a little and shrugs. "A little residual coughing, but nothing to worry about. Hope no one else has had my misfortune lately." He waves off Andron and looks towards Tonli, smiling and shaking his head a bit. "Eh.. Yes, I'm stubborn, but I feel as though you wouldn't let a cold slow you down, Tonalie?" He grins a bit and sighs, looking over to Jueann again. "Please, Join me. I do believe I am far from contagious."
Christatha trails closer to Jueann, a faint blush coloring her cheeks, and lifts her shoulders in an uncommitted shrug. "They're all right," she says. "No problems, really." The flush darkens for a moment, for some indefinable reason, and she sits down, primly crossing her ankles.
Jueann makes herself comfortable, giving her order to a nearby drudge of bubblies, cheese and a glass of Benden White. "I wish you could cough on a certain master, maybe I will be rid of him then. One of the apprentices have made a tune about a tunnelsnake. It's a catchy tune."
"How little you know of me, dear," replies Morallen to Tonalie in a low murmur as the dining hall suddenly becomes a lot more... crowded. His eyes continue to twinkle beneath his tousled hair as he leans in on an elbow and continues to munch grapes, giving Yatyl an approving nod and the comment of "Always knew Mynd had a good head on his shoulders... No sense being noble and tough and taking twice as long to get healthy again." the Healer pronounces, before he stills at the sound of a limp. The physical therapist has gotten fairly familiar with that limp, and so calls over with reasonable certainty that "You've not been doing those stretches, Synte."
Tonalie helps herself to her own handful of grapes, popping one in her mouth as she twinkles in Morallen's direction, though she responds over her shoulder to Yatyl's comment. "Indeed, I wouldn't. But I wouldn't dare get sick without getting my permission first." Nhya. So there.
Yatyl shakes his head a little. "Nah. Sorry. The sick don't travel all that often." He grins merrily before yawning into his hand and nodding to a drudge that brings him meat and tubers. Delightful. "Tunnelsnake, eh? My sister has made a few comments on that master." He grins a little and raises an eyebrow as he looks over where Morallen indicates. "Yes. He's smart, but I am over concerned with the matter of the hold. They pay me to." He grins a little. "Oh.. and Happy Turn Over, everyone." He nods and takes up his fork and knife and begins to cut into his food. Synte is given a nod, but not talked to yet.
Synte quietly chuckles. "Yes, I have," comes the rumbled reply to Morallen's words. "They haven't been doing a shelling thing, Healer." Hood flicks back, bared for all the evil cookstaff to see... and he seats himself quickly, in the vicinity of Yatyl. Try to kick him out /now/! ... mwahaha. Or something of the sort, indeed. "Tunnelsnake." Shudder. "Happy turnover, yourself," he mutters at Yatyl, eyeballing about, mulling over actually going and -getting- food. Interesting concept, that.
Jueann chuckles softly, "I can't wait until all the masters hear it. Jeranium is fuming but all the apprentices are snickering. Letye is cackling like a fowl laying an egg." Fanning herself, "My is it hot in here?" The drudge is returning with her order.
"Well then, you need to come see me so we can give you another program to work on." replies Morallen to the Stablemaster with the calm of a Healer completely confident in their own skills. "Since this obviously worked up to a point." That said, he turns back to his snack and his conversation. "Well, just remember that you /can/ actually get Andron to sign things for you now and again, eh? No more ruling from the sickbed." His hand reaches out to intercept the slim one stealing his grapes, and he moves to press a light kiss to Tonalie's hand before letting her go.
Tonalie lifts a brow, hiding a smirk at Jueann's excessive fanning. "I could have a window or two opened, Ma'am," she offers sweetly to cover Morallen's -attentions-, the now rebuked hand slipping under the table to tickle his knee.
Yatyl raises an eyebrow at Synte's entrance and blinks for a long time. "Not sleeping well, Synte?" he wrinkles his nose and keeps all comments about keeping warm enough to himself. It was mixed company. "Want something? Put it on my tab." He smiles a little and looks over at Jueann. She seems to have no problem keeping warm. "Well, when this master leaves, we can have a gather and properly introduce the song, eh?" Morallen is given a quick glance before Yatyl laughs a little. "Eh.. Andron works harder than I do. Don't believe me? Ask Alain. He tried keeping up with the Warder for a while, and tried to keep him healthy and it almost put the guy through some sort of nervous breakdown." He grins a little and stuffs some meat into his mouth. Tonli is given a curious expression before he looks over at Jueann once more. He was going to ignore it, but well, that's why Tonli had the position she has.
Synte quietly observes Morallen for a long moment. "Perhaps," he mutters, before leaning over precariously, one hand poised to tap a drudge on the hip. He whirls just in time to avoid it, leaving Synte with a cross look. "The world hates me," he announces, before fishing for another drudge, near-falling out of his seat this time, but managing to get the lass's attention. Ordering in his precise-yet-drawling tones, the man turns his gaze to Yatyl. "I always sleep well, Yatyl. Don't give me the 'Faranth, Synte, you look like a dragon's run you over' spiel, please?" Grumble. Back to shifting his weight -- eyes darken considerably at the mention of Andron and Alain, before he just shrugs and lets loose a chuckle of wryness, for no apparent reason.
Jueann sighs as she fumbles in her pouch and sighs. "Shards!" She shakes her head, "Christi, can you do me a huge huge favor? I left my medicine vial on the table in my rooms. Can you be a dear and go get it for me?"
Christatha blinks a little, as though startled at being addressed; then she nods, puts down her fruit, and scurries off in a swirl of plain fabric to fetch the required item.
Tonalie eyes the drudges dance around Synte, not sure whether to lecture them later or give them an afternoon off. She bites her tongue, desperately wanting to throw out a few reasons why the world might hate the perpetually scowling man. Instead, she shifts closer to Morallen, under the pretense of reviewing the room's operations in general.
Morallen would say something to the effect that /he/ never slept with the Lord Warder at the comments about Alain and nervous breakdowns, but like Yatyl, thoughts of mixed company creep in. Actually, with Tonalie edging closer to him, such thoughts more than /creep/. Casually, he wraps an arm around her waist and continues snacking, calling over to Synte that "I'll see you in the Infirmary in two days' time, or I'll track you down myself."
Yatyl wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. "No.. you're not bruised enough for that." He grins a little and looks the stablemaster over again. "Actually, you look like you lost your best friend." He has no idea right now how right he is, but well, all will be revealed later. "How are the runners? I don't suppose they're what's causing this lovely mood?" He raises an eyebrow and notes the exchange between Jueann and Christatha but ignores it for the time being. He's having too much fun verbally poking the grumpy man.
Synte positively chokes at Yatyl. He snags a mug of klah, and takes a swig, ignoring the momentary flash of pain. (Ow. Hope you didn't need those tastebuds. Synte...) "See you in three days, then," he mildly states to Morallen, a touch of humor returning to him as he settles back with his hot mug. Nursing the klah, gaze observes Yatyl thoughtfully. "The runners are fine. Well, other than the fact that I wouldn't know how Demure's doing," he states, annoyance in his tone, "-Or- how Zonincey's doing." Twitch. /Twitch/.
Tonalie snickers, her arm crossing over her chest so that her hand could twine in with the hand that Morallen had so thoughtfully provided when he wrapped his arm around her. The other snakes out and snags one of the forbidden fruit, popping it in her mouth and blinking wide-eyed at the healer. "You never say sweet nothings like that to /me/..." she pouts under her breath, referring to 'Lens threat to track Synte down. Synte's grumbles are given a brow lift.
"That's because I'd prefer to see you in other places than the Infirmary, m'dear." replies Morallen with an easy smirk and a waggle of an eyebrow, dodging that little conversational trap by snugging Tonalie a little closer to him, and lifting his hand to pop a grape in her mouth. Synte gets an amused grin before he settles down to let the Steward have his fun at poking at the Stablemaster. He's got an armful of Headwoman and a trayful of food to occupy him instead.
Yatyl wrinkles his nose. "You scared the lad off while he.. was what? Riding your runner?" He wrinkles his nose and peers over at Synte for a moment. "You should know better than that. Threaten them with death when they are on a runner that can't get far." He grins a little and starts cutting up tubers and popping bites into his mouth. "Tonli.. Love.. You do realize that you might slow down his promotion if you keep fawning over him in public like that." He grins and winks. He wouldn't hold Morallen back too long though, he's too talented for that.
Jueann sighs as she waits for Christi to return, fanning herself. "Where is that girl? This hot flash is getting to me." she mutters. Taking a sip of the wine. "What's this about Alain?"
Christatha scurries back into the room, carrying the required item: a medicine vial, fetched from Jueann's table. "Is this what you wanted, Master?" she asks, proffering it with an expression of mild concern on her face.
"No, your sister hijacked one of my runners /and/ one of my stablehands and left for the weyr, Yatyl, /dear/," Synte drawls, gaze pinned upon his plate -- gaze flicks up automatically at the word 'Alain', though, and he focuses on Jueann. Watching her, he nearly misses the arrival of his food -- the plate's settled in front of him, and it takes all of his considerable control not to jump out of his skin. "Heh. Thank you," he growls, snagging a meatroll and crunching on it immediately.
Jueann smiles at the apprentice, "yes. This is it. Aconite. That'll do the trick. Thank you, Christi." Taking the vial puts a drop of it into her wine, very very carefully and with great show. "There. One drop is all I need."
Tonalie's retort dies on her lips as her head whips around to face Synte. "She did /what/? When? Why didn't you /stop/ her?" she inquires heatedly.
Morallen is an outsider to this conversation, and so simply sits. And blinks. Rather Neo-like, actually. One can expect him to intone a deeply meaningful 'Whoah...' at any point now. The piece of melon he'd been nibbling is held about halfway between plate and mouth as his simply listens, an eyebrow arched.
Synte turns fair gaze on Tonalie, and his eyebrow rise. "She left me a /note/, woman," he growls. "By the /egg/... You honestly think I'd let my shelling best friend run off with my fardling best stablehand and my sharding best runner? I've more sense than that, despite contrary belief," he absolutely -hisses-. He's, uh... yeah. Acting... Synte-ish.
Yatyl shrugs a little. "Alain made himself available to the hold staff for a while as a healer. Andron is hard on healers. Then again, I didn't really always listen to his advice either." That's the clean way of putting it. Yatyl looks a little relieved as the girl gives Jueann her medication. His attention is brought back to Synte rather quickly as he furrows his forehead. "Hynolonie? She's sick.. She couldn't have done that. What are you talking about." The poking of the cranky man has backfired at Yatyl and he's shocked. "Tonalie.. do you know anything about this?" he looks over at his other sister and is discouraged when she seems clueless as well. "Shards..." Yatyl coughs again and sits back in his seat. "...Well. I should write to Hyti then."
Tonalie jumps to her feet, glaring daggers at the so-called Stable Master as she slams her palms down on the table, causing it to jump. "Obviously you haven't trained your staff very well if they allow an obviously ill girl to just /take/ any runner she chooses and ride off into the night. Just when did you find this note, and why weren't either of us informed?" The anger in her voice is unmistakable, if rather unexpected. She'd never shown this much concern for her sister while she was there. "Do happen to know if she /made/ it?" she asks, her tone dripping ice.
Morallen chooses this moment to play peacemaker. Or at least try and keep things reasonable. It runs in the family, even if /he/ isn't a Mindhealer, 'nor wants to be one. "If she's anything like you, Tonli," he notes softly. "I'm sure she could probably push past the average stablehand while an inch from the grave... But I can send a few messages to the Infirmaries they would have had to have passed on their way to Weyr."
Eyes flicker to Morallen. "That doesn't excuse /his/ behavior, 'Len..." she growls, but allowing her fire to cool enough to drop back into her seat. She turns worried eyes to Yatyl, sending him a mute plea before drawing a shuddering breath and tightening her grip on the bench. "I'm still waiting for an answer, Stablemaster."
Yatyl raises an eyebrow. "Tonalie. Relax." Yatyl grows a little moody as he shakes his head at his sister. "Look. He said that he wasn't around for it. Its not like either of us can stop Lonie from doing whatever she wants to do. If you want someone to yell at, find that mentor of hers. She seems to be able to control her." Yatyl nods at Morallen and sighs. "Yes.. Umm.. Jueann?" He turns to watch the harper master and apprentice. "Would it be too much trouble for you to get someone to drum the weyr? Apparently, we've lost an ill young woman.. about 18 turns old." He sighs and starts to stand. He'll have words with Lonie about this.
Christatha nibbles at her piece of fruit, listening quietly to the activity going on around her. She doesn't really have anything to add to anything, but she's aware of what's going on and, if asked, could probably summarize it. The idea that this listening-in might be rude doesn't occur to her, which is probably lucky.
Synte growls as he looks up at Tonli. He wasn't going to answer her. He didn't have to. He just needed to take a moment to decide what he was going to do about all this. "yeah. Drum the weyr. Send out the Search parties." He grumbles again and grabs his klah mug and waves it around for a drudge to refill.
Jueann puts away the medicine and nods, "I think I can do that. What message do you want? I can have one sent?" sipping her wine with a wince at the taste.
Morallen turns in his seat to bring Jueann into his field of view. "If she's got what Yatyl had a few days back, the Healers should already have her in their infirmary. An 18 turn old young woman with a fever and a chest cold... You're taking medication in that wine?" Ah, Morallen. Can't leave the medical profession entirely alone, even in the middle of a completely different serious topic.
Jueann blinks and looks over at Morallen and nods, wincing. "Something Jaqui gave me. It's to help with hot flashes and night sweats."
Tonalie's eyes widen in indignation, huffing, "But he still hasn't answered why he didn't inform one of us immediately..." She glares at the man through narrowed eyes before turning her back on him, rolling her eyes as Morallen speaks. "I hope it hasn't gotten that bad... and that's only /if/ they found her." She leans forward to rest her face in her hands, knees on elbows as visions of her sister lying on the side of road somewhere run through her mind.
And, like the good little plot device that she is, Hippolyta blinks in with a message from the Harper of Smith Hall, dropped neatly in the general direction of Yatyl's lap, before the little gold chirrups and flitters off to perch on a convenient chair back. Isn't she gorgeous?
Yatyl wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. "Tonalie, how many turns have you gone with out knowing where Lonie is? Isn't it normal now for her to up and disappear on us and for us to know nothing?" He smiles a little and shakes his head. "We're only her brother and sister. We have no real influence on the girl's life. Besides, if she is at Ista weyr, she's with Hytiaf now." He sighs and nods to Morallen. "Yes. Ask the weyrhealer to contact us soon. Hopefully...." he peers down at the gold firelizard. "Hm.." he takes the letter into his hands and begins to open it.
Jueann sighs as she stands and moves over to Morellan, "Why do you ask?"
Tonalie opens her mouth to retort that normally, Lonie wasn't /sick/ when she disappeared, but the appearance of the little gold and her message still her tongue and she sits expectantly, her hand reaching out to Morallen for comfort.
"I'm sure she's all right, Tonli," soothes Morallen, before cocking an eyebrow at the arrival of the firelizard. "See? I bet that's a report right there," he assures, leaning over to pat her hand reassuringly. Jueann's words get a nod, and then a crinkle of concentration touches his forehead. "Hot flashes and night sweats, one drop, doesn't lose it's effectiveness in alcohol... Ah! Aconite!" he pronounces. "Master Jaqui must trust you, if she's let you have that unattended. It's lethal stuff in not a very large dose."
Synte goes from steeling himself against Tonalie's ferocious demands to instant curiosity in the letter written. He too pauses in his eating and turns his eyes upon Yatyl and the note in his hands.
Jueann nods to Morallen as she heads for the door, "That's what Jaqui said. I usually keep it in my apartment but sometimes I'll carry it with me. The stress lately as been very bad. Can you tell Jaqui for me it's working and I've been a good girl?"
Yatyl sighs and looks up from the letter. "Here.. Liesana says that Hynolonie is alright. She's at the weyr as we speak. In the infirmary of all places." He sighs a little and furrows his brow. "She's taking care of things." He hands the letter to Tonalie to look over before looking over to Jueann. "I guess we will be fine with out the drum messages and search parties." He sighs a little and looks back to his food, still not having any appetite. "Sorry about all this, Synte. The girl... just does this sometimes."
Tonalie takes the letter and scans it quickly, melting in on herself just a little before nodding and handing it back. "We can sort everything else out later. She's there safe and in healer hands..." Tonalie glances at Morallen apologetically as she says the last to words, her brow lifting in a private joke.
Morallen ambles out of the dining hall through the double doors into the great hall.
