Must Be Hard to be a Condiment

Characters Al'dru Sabrael
Synopsis Al'dru can't quite hear Sabrael. The conclusion? Condiments.
Out-of-Character Date December 19, 2014

Igen Weyr - Conservatory
The transition from the Entrance to this room is smooth. The sand is piled high here as well, and the mist floats through the air. The heat, however, is just a little less stiffling, and the light is a little brighter. The trees here, though still young, are obviously fruit trees set all in pretty lines and rows. It's obvious now why the insects and birds are encouraged to fly in here - a few of the trees have burst into bloom. At the back of this cavern, there is a smaller arch that leads to a somewhat darker room.

Al'dru is whistling as he walks, wandering slightly aimlessly in from where the weyr's gardens are and he looks just a bit beddraggled right now, hands slightly dirty and a few smudges on his clothes. But there's a faintly cheerful smile adorning his face as he wanders to the well to fill up a bucket.

This place is perfect for a quiet person like Sabrael. While she has come out a little from her shell, every once in a while it is good to retreat into the quiet. She sits by the well with her legs curled inwards, taking in the quiet. She is small enough that the well hides her completely. The whistle alerts her to company though and she pops herself upwards swiftly, "Oh, um, hello, sir."

Al'dru is just very slightly startled, and takes a step back or so, not expecting another person in the conservatory. "Oh, Er. Hello there. And who might you be?" He's still swinging the bucket he was carrying, allowing it to hit him lightly in the legs every now and again as he looks around for other folks hiding in here. "Can't say as I've met you before. I'm Al'dru. Eranzath's here at Igen."

Sabrael is not at all use to being the one surprising another and for a moment is at a complete loss for words. Curly hair falls forward, half hiding her face as she scrambles to find a reply. When she does speak it is in an almost whisper. "Um, Sabrael. I,uh," She stops herself and squares her shoulders, though she doesn't look up at him. Her voice at least is slightly louder. "Sabrael. One of the candidates. It… is nice to meet you."

Al'dru continues to smile even as he sets his bucket on the well. "Speak up there girl. How do you expect an old man to hear you. Especially one that's worked in the forges. What's your name again? Fabio? And you're a condiment?" There's a muttered aside. "I'll have to talk to those younger bronzeriders about who they bring back as company. It's all well and good to have bedwarmers, but actually telling them they are condiments is a little bit beyond the pale."

Shock writes itself over Sabrael's face, her eyes going wide as her jaw drops slightly. For the first time since coming to the Weyr she looks straight at a complete stranger. "I, un, I mean," She shakes herself off and licks her lips. At least when she speaks again it is louder, "Sabrael. A, uh, candidate. Um, do you need any help?"

Al'dru actually looks up from his bucket that he was attaching to drop into into the well. "Oh, then why didn't you say so. Would have saved us both some confusion." He nods toward the very start of the conservatory. "Nah, just have a few citrus trees I've been tending. The weyrwoman likes them or so I've been told and I like to stay on her good side." Another wide grin. "Oh, you're here for the eggs. Nice batch of them Zuhth laid, and they're getting almost ready to crack, another week or so I would expect."

"My apologies." Sabrael is careful to speak loudly, though she glances around to make sure no one other than the slightly deaf rider can see her. "Yes, um…. Do you know much about these trees? I haven't seen a place quite like this…." Slight hope there as she curls her hands together and bounces in place just a little, looking up wi th hope that he will respond positively.

Al'dru takes a look around as Sabrael's words register after a moment. "These ones? Some sort of fruit I expect. Don't know the exact type myself but I know that it's fruit. I was allowed to put in the citrus, because they were new, but I was told all of them were fruit trees in here. I know the Headwoman's hoping that in a few turns that a lot of the weyr supplies can come from here. Help us with lowering our outside bills." He pauses for a moment, working on lowering the bucket. "So, Sabrael, the candidate. What did you do before you came to Igen? Because I can't believe you've been a candidate all of your life?"

Slight deflation occurs when Sabrael realizes the man knows little about the trees she so admires. "I wish I could see them in bloom." She forgets for a moment his hearing as she murmurs to herself. But a jerk back to the moment and she raises her voice again. "My parents run a ferry on the Igen river, hear the swamp land." A little far from the desert weyr. "Never been away from home before. Were… Have you been a rider a long time?"

Al'dru finds a spot to settle in, half resting on the stonework of the well, and pausing is his water drawing. "Well, I've been partnered with Eranzath for almost 22 turns now. Before that, I was a smithcraft apprentice over near Telgar. Then was picked up on search at High Reaches." He moves to try and clean out an ear, fiddling with it. "Your parents run a wherry? Isn't that somewhat awkward for them? Wherries are something fierce, in my opinion. Never knew anyone to try and tame and run around with them."

A small giggle escapes from Sabrael's lips, and she claps her hands over her mouth to prevent more from coming out. She relaxes a bit more, allowing her hands to fall to her side rather than being clutched in front of her. Rather than try to correct, her sense of humor peeks out, "It is not easy sir."

Al'dru merely shakes his head. "Remember Al, there are more things on Pern, than you'll ever dream

up." He glances back at the candidate. "So, tell me of the eggs. What has been your impression of them? Got a favorite one out there on the sands yet or are you leaving your options open so far?"

That smile lingers, mischief hinted within, as Sabrael's hands move behind her. "Some of them are very nice. A few… a little more loud. I didn't expect them to be so…. different. Are… is it always like that?"

"Well, the eggs for Eranzath's clutch were all different, I have to say. Can't say for other clutches as he found me that first time I was standing out there on the sands." Al, pauses considering for a long moment the question. "I guess that they are though if you're confirming it a second time for me. But of all of them, I liked Eranzath's egg the very best, I have to admit."

"A lot of the others have stood before. They say, well, in the lessons, tat the dragons are looking for something? But, no one can say what." Congratulations Al'dru, Sabrael has officially said more words to him than anyone else in the weyr. "I hope they find what they are looking for. Everyone has been so nice."

Al'dru hmms faintly. "Didn't know that about this batch of candidates. Well, seasoned is better than unseasoned. But you'll stand a good stead out there. Nice supply of eggs that Zuhth put out and all. And yeah, I'm just grateful that Eranzath found what he was looking for in me. Whatever that might have been."

"Whatever needs to happen will happen." Sabrael is confident in her own words, neither counting herself out nor in. "I am just glad to have the chance to be able to be here. I'd never really left the cothold before."

Al'dru mutters to himself. "But you're in the hothouse right now." He shakes his head. "Eranzath's telling me that there will be an egg touching. You'd best be getting yourself to that, young lady."

Eyes widen as Al'dru delivers that particular message. "Oh!" She steps back to go scurry off, then draws herself short. "It was nice to meet you sir. I hope we get a chance to speak again." She even manages to keep her voice at the proper level before she does finally turn and takes off. Small = fast, yes? She's mustard for sure.

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