A woman's work is never done (Open)

[Rowana]

Hoayamae had to admit, once she got over her initial grouching at all the changes, that Burimyu's kitchens were spectacular. Even with shortened staff and limited resources, she still found it quite enjoyable to make food for everyone. Maybe she was getting old and set in her ways, but food was food where ever it was made and folk still needed to eat. The trick was to keep the smoke to a minimum, but she hadn't had been a cook all these years for nothing. The biggest problem was supplies. Living in secret meant almost everything had to be grown, raised, or hunted from the area around the Weyr. Mae longed for some of the spices and herbs from other parts of the South she was used to putting in the food.

For now, though, she would make do. At least those poor riders and folk wouldn't starve while she was in charge! She could worry about what was happening to her kitchen back home another day. "Let's see now," she said, half to herself and half to Nhim leaning over her shoulder. Mae pushed up her sleeves. "Meat pasties for dinner," she thought aloud. "I have fresh greens from this morning and rolls in the oven. Maybe I can get one of the candidates to fetch me some fruit before it gets dark." The old cook busied herself with chopping meat while Nhim played in one of the mini waterfalls. He seemed delighted with the idea of having them inside. Mae chuckled at his antics. It was so nice to see a creature happy in times like these.

[Requiem]

The child was plucking at the overlarge clothes that were actually K'lir's. That was the problem with only having one set. They'd been tied so they wouldn't go falling off, but it was still a lot like being dressed in a pair of tents. Small though K'lir was, he definitely was not the size of a seven-turn-old. Miguel padded barefoot down to the warmth of the kitchens. A small smile lit up his face at the sight of Mae. One of his favorite people!

He glanced at the blue playing in the water and his little face twitched in an open flinch. Lord. The hole in his heart where his own flit had been ached. A small hand clutched at the fabric covering that part of his chest until the knuckles went white. Then he shook it off, though, and moved forward to stand next to the tall, portly woman. He wrapped his small arms around one of her legs and stared up at her with his clear blue eyes.

"Auntie Mae. What are you making?" He could not see, being so short. Counters were not made at kid height. Sadly. "Can I help?" Miguel wasn't good at sitting still all day, and he wasn't allowed to play outside very much. They worried he'd get eaten or seen, probably. Everything had to be secret here. It made him antsy though.

[Rowana]

Nhim whistled brightly in greeting and Hoayamae looked down. She beamed at Miguel. Her reminded her so much of her son when he was small. It saddened her to think that even such a small child should be forced into exile away from his family. The least she could do was share some good company. "I'm making dinner, Miguel," she answered reasonably. She set down her knife and wiped her hands on her apron. "Of course you can help, dear." Never turn down willing help, Mae always thought.

Patting him on the head, she fished about in a corner for a moment. Soon she had produced a short stool, about a foot high. She'd had it made to help her reach some of the high selves in the new kitchen, but it should be just high enough for Miguel to see the counter. "Here you are, young man," she set it next to wear she'd been working. "Would you like to roll the dough for the pasties?" she suggested. She would rather he not handle knives until he was a touch taller, but rolling dough would be quite helpful.

[Requiem]

He liked it when she smiled. (He knew that others were scared of her, especially some of the younger ones, but Hoayamae had always been nice to him.) The boy cocked his head to one side slightly when she responded. He hadn't been sure that she was cooking dinner, but he had rather hoped she'd tell him just what it was. Nevertheless, it hardly mattered when she was letting him help, did it? He'd find out soon enough.

The child climbed up onto the stool and smiled a yes at her, standing on his tiptoes to reach the rolling pin. He looked at the bowl of dough already prepared. The blue eyes turned questioningly to Mae. "How big?" He made a grabbing gesture with one hand to illustrate that he was talking about how much dough she wanted him to take each time. His small arms then both wrapped around the rolling pin, hugging it to him. He didn't notice the flour it smeared all down his front.

[Rowana]

Hoayamae looked thoughtful for a moment. She set her hand on the counter and spread her fingers wide. "About that big will be fine," she explained, pointing out the diameter of her fingers, which was about seven inches. Pulling down a small jar of flower, Mae lightly dusted the Miguel's counter. "When you're done, we'll fill them with meat," she continued with a smile. Picking up her knife, she finished cutting the meat.

"What else do you think I aught to put in these, eh?" she asked, quite reasonably. Miguel might be one of her youngest helpers, but that didn't mean he didn't have excellent ideas. Besides, young people often made the most radical and fearless recipes that sometimes tasted delicious.

[Requiem]

Miguel tried to splay his hand as wide as Hoayamae's, pressing his small hand on top of hers, but he couldn't quite manage. (Grown-up hands apparently were much bigger than little boy hands.) He squinted at it anyway just to be absolutely sure he could remember the size right, hardly noticing as she dusted the counter with flour so that the rolling of the dough would go easier.

"Meat?" he echoed, taking up a doublehandful of dough to match what Mae had shown him. He began rolling it out carefully. The child stood on tiptoes to put enough pressure on the pin to flatten it properly. He'd rather thought that dough was usually for pies, and those were sweets. This sounded better though. Better for hungry tummies.

"I like redfruit," the child supplied cheerfully. "And onions and peppers and...oranges." They'd just found some oranges earlier that day. It had been his breakfast, but the hunger for them had not diminished. Miguel didn't often get to eat oranges.

[Rowana]

Hoayamae smiled at Miguel's suggestions. They weren't bad actually, though she never would have thought to use them all at once. "Hmm," she hummed thoughtfully. "Oranges, eh?" She'd nearly forgotten those she still had from breakfast. They might not have enough for to added to all the pasties, but orange skins were a nice flavoring too. "Sound delicious!" Mae announced with a grin.

She worked to keep cutting the meat. "What do you say we save the redfruit for desert, and we'll but everything else in your pasties?" Maybe she had enough redfruit to boil down into a sauce for rolls. That could be a nice change.

[Requiem]

The boy nodded solemnly. "Yes. I like oranges a lot." He rolled the dough carefully with his pin, starting at the center and rolling the dough outward from that point in all directions. Of course he knew how; this wasn't the first time he'd helped Hoayamae. The woman was probably his favorite here other than K'lir. All the other adults were rather too busy for him anyway.

"It sounds yummy," the child agreed eagerly. Redfruit for desert... His eyes were intent on his work, but that didn't keep him from talking to Mae. "Do you like oranges? Maybe we could grow some so there are always oranges." That sounded very good to him. He'd very much like an orange every day if he could have one. They tasted so good.

Once he'd finished rolling the first chunk of dough out, he picked it up delicately with his small fingers and set it near her bowl so she could put the meat in it. "Tell me a story about one of your kids again? They're the best." He looked up long enough to flash her a smile. Even Miguel wasn't above giving her pleading eyes if he thought it would end with a good story.

[Rowana]

"Grow oranges," Hoayamae glanced at the small waterfall thoughtfully. It might be possible with some of the internal rivers running through the Weyr. Light was the real trick, however. Orange trees needed plenty of sunlight. She smiled ruefully at Miguel. Such inspiring ideas from one so young. Almost a pity they hadn't put him on the council. "You're a smart lad," she agreed with a nod. "I'll have to see about that."

Filling a bowl with the meat she'd cut, Mae rinsed her hands in the sink. Her eyes grew sad a moment at the mention of children. T'vol's death still hurt even now, but she had learned to live with it. It was even nice to share stories about him from time to time. Besides, she couldn't deny such a lovely audience. "Well now," she began, reaching for some peppers to begin cutting. "Once I asked Taevol to go pick me some oranges. He wasn't much bigger than you at the time, but he was sure he could get them all by himself." Mae smiled at the memory. Those had been more peaceful times. "He was gone such a long time, that I went out myself to see what trouble he was in. See, I was certain some feline or other had made a meal of him." Mae shook her head at the thought. "And what do you think I found?" she asked, eyes twinkling.

[Requiem]

A small flush colored his cheeks when she called him smart, and he concentrated very hard on rolling the dough out, too shy to meet her eyes. At least until she said she'd see about the orange tree. Then the woman was gifted with a delighted smile. If only! The second of the dough shells had been rolled out and added to the first by the time she started telling her story.

The boy looked up at Hoayamae with troubled eyes. He knew that some of her children were dead at least. (He didn't ask to know how many or how they'd died. That was just too sad.) "He was okay, wasn't he?" Miguel asked anxiously. The idea of something bad happening to a little boy his own age was distressing. Reiscia and Silas had been even younger. The child swallowed.

Maybe he shouldn't have asked for a story, after all.

[Rowana]

Hoayamae just had to chuckle at Miguel's reaction. Maybe she shouldn't have told such a story in light of recent events, but the the ending was a happy one so it aught to cheer the boy up quickly. "Don't you worry," Mae assured him with a wink. She sliced through the first pepper and began cutting it into small squares. "That son of mine was up in the orange tree, fast asleep with darters licking the orange juice off his shirt!" Nhim gave a trilling laugh as his mistress shook her head at the memory. "When I asked him what he'd been doing, he claimed that he'd only eaten the oranges to keep a horde of orange eating wherries from stealing them all."

[Requiem]

Miguel had stopped rolling the dough in favor of watching Hoayamae anxiously, his attention completely on her. Her reassurance helped a little. Actually, he knew she probably wouldn't be telling him a bad story, but he couldn't help but be worried a little bit just the same. A slow smile crossed his face when she finished, and it was nothing worse than falling asleep in a tree after gorging himself on oranges. Miguel couldn't understand why, too, 'cause they really were very good.

"Orange-eating wherries." The child chuckled, but then a thought occurred to him. "Are there really such things? We'll have to kill them if we want orange trees." He was not giving up his oranges now that the idea was back in his head. Another glance was spared Nhim before he looked away soberly and returned to rolling out the dough for dinner. Thinking of that right now...was hard.