==== September 12, 2013
==== A'lory, Mayte
==== A seven-day into Mayte's confining, A'lory comes to make amends.

Who A'lory, Mayte
What A'lory and Mayte both have an apology to make…
When One Turn and three months until the 12th Pass
Where Corks and Works Wineshop


Corks and Works
Day or night, this shop is well lit on the inside, by day with Rukbat's beams, and by night by the grace of many glowbaskets that are very liberally used to maintain lighting. When a chance is gained to look about the shop, one easily sees why - there are shelves upon shelves of wine here. The perimeter of the wine shop is lined by shelves four high, and each shelf is carefully stacked just short of bursting with wine of various vintages, regions, sweet or bitterness, and even more importantly, price. But lo, wine is not the only thing to be found on the shelves here - one wall is dedicated to other liquors, from ale to brandy to vodka, and many in between. A carefully written sign nearby says, 'if you don't see what you're looking for, let us know!' There are also a couple of shelves on the wall of the main door, dedicated to things not of vintner make. Although they are bare at the moment, a portable chalkboard plaque says, 'Sienna's Cheeses'.
Even the wall behind the counter has wine bottles on it, but it's the counter itself that is more of note. Approximately four feet high, there are wine bottles underneath as well - empty ones this time, as if to display the wines that have passed through here in the past. Many of which are highly remarkable in either name or vintage. The top of the counter is typically kept clean and polished to shine. A heavy book for keeping track of sales is atop the counter, as well as a stylus for writing with, and an inkwell. One of the shelves behind the counter has been reserved for clean wine glasses, and there is a tub for dirty glasses beneath it; next to it are small clothe bags with the shop's name embroidered into them, for the customers who buy more than a single bottle of wine.
In the middle of the room is a circular wooden display with spaces for wine bottles to be inserted, while the card on the little shelf below tells the name of the vintage or wine of the sevenday. A table and chairs are sometimes brought out from the storeroom to the front room, when there are particular customers about, or when there is a particular event going on. The shop itself is manned at all times, even during the night, sometimes by the feared Eollyn herself, and sometimes by Mayte or other apprentices.

In this rain, who in their right minds would want to go out? The shop is rather empty of its usual customers. Kalligon stands behind the desk, fiddling with something while Mayte, pulling and tugging at her torture cha…dress, moves around the shop, tugging a cart of wine bottles for distribution behind her. “Kalligon, did you dust the bottles higher up?” Lazy apprentices may become DEAD apprentices soon. A mutter is her only reply, and Mayte moves out into the main aisle, “Did you hear me, Kalligon??”

And into this empty wineshop walks a lean and haggard man - a man who nonetheless bears a small gift threaded through the fingers of one hand. His gaze sweeps the shop, missing the now demurely dressed Mayte entirely before finding her again. And the very idea of Mayte - irrepressible girl that she is - dressed in an old woman's fashions gives A'lory a fit of laughter, quickly muffled by a cough. Oh, dear; poor child. "Ah. Just the one I was looking for."

Kalligon, now faced by the irate Mayte, whose rage TOWERS from the (admittedly fading) bruise on her jaw and this ridiculously confining get-up, is so very relieved to see a customer! Customers mean Mayte can't yell. Which just means Mayte will do it later, but she is distracted by the sight of A'lory in the doorway and groans. Grrrrreat. Kalligon takes advantage of this and scampers into the back, but Mayte presses her lips together in an attempt to pretend pleasantries, "Can I help you find something, Weyrsecond?" Whaddya want? "A wine, or some cheese?" Sooner or later, it's all A'lory's fault she's in this costume anyhow.

A'lory isn't still trying not to laugh, he really isn't — just ignore the twitching of his lips, there. "I see Eollyn is not best pleased with you either, youngling." Sympathy? What's that? A'lory knows not what this means. Idly, he begins running a small bit of jewelry through his fingers, eyeing the winery around him with an absent appreciation for the varied selection. "Look, child, perhaps I was rather harsher than intended - I was worried, especially considering - " Well, just about everything happening in the Weyr. But he doesn't finish the sentence, choosing instead to eye the girl sidelong for a moment before turning away. "Your jaw better? Did you see a Healer?" Like he roared at her to do.

Mayte's eyes narrow; just what she needs, someone else mocking her. But let's strive for civility, "My Journeywoman is ensuring I don't draw any… undue attentions." You get into one fight… "I did see a healer," dragged there, kicking and screaming, "but he said time and rest and," is that a little quirk of grin, "not doing it again." Like any girl, whether Mayte will admit it or not, her eye is drawn to the slight flash of something shiny in A'lory's hand but she's really trying not to show her curiosity; probably for Sara anyhow. Expressions flash over her face as she tries to find the right words, "I'm sorry that you were worried. I'll try not to let it happen again." You know, the next time guards come bursting in.

A'lory does laugh, then: he can't help it. "She couldn't have chosen a better costume — no one will look twice. Even that pesky little - " Ahem " - snake, Peaston will not look twice at you." He's smiling at her, now, relaxing a bit at knowing the girl is safe from mischief for now, watched over by a wise and wily Journeywoman. However, the shiny thing in his hand is still wending its way over his fingers - until he holds it out for Mayte. It's a delicate little bracelet, a shining silver braid made to allow for small charms to dangle from it if one chooses. "I thought you might like this. For, you know, whenever you're allowed out of here." And possibly a conciliatory gift for upsetting the girl - A'lory hates it when women of any age cry.

Not even knowing that cranky ol' Senior Journeymen with sticks in inappropriate places wouldn't look at her twice can help this dress, but Mayte shrugs an inch, and when her shoulders settle, they're a little more relaxed, "That was apparently the idea. That, and strangling me." A finger in the collar attempts to loosen it to no avail. Better manners were at one point pounded into this girl, because she doesn't reach for it, but eyes it curiously, blinking a little, "For me?" He yells and then he offers gifts. Mayte won't know if she's coming or going, "You brought me a bracelet?" Stunned, quiet breathing. "I… never got jewelery before." Does she eat it or something?

"I brought you a bracelet." A'lory grins wryly at her - guilt offering, really; even jerks can occassionally stumble upon being nice to others. "If you're allowed to have it, anyway - been some few Turns since I was an apprentice; I'm not current on the rules. Token of avuncular affection." He tilts his head at her, now frankly curious. Conveniently placed for just such a thing, he rests his lean hip against the desk so recently vacated by her fellow apprentice and asks, gently, "Where you from, girl?"

Oh yeah, that whole 'apprentice' thing. "Um. I'd have to ask Eollyn… She's usually pretty relaxed about things like that, she lets me keep my leather bracelets, when I'm not all trussed up," and that garners a resigned look. "You were an apprentice?" she asks curiously, as if A'lory and Eisheth burst into being as they are now. "Me? I'm from Benden Hold-area, but I guess you could say my family's from all over the place… Mainly Ista, before my grandparents moved to Benden." Old people, Mayte's shrug indicates, who can figure 'em. She's still eyeing that jewelry, but how does one ask 'gimme gimme gimme' politely? "What about you? Other than being ancient, that is." It's a tease. The angry-Mayte facade is broken.

A'lory nods solemnly. "Briefly of both Harper and Healer - I'd intended to be a Harper, but… well." He grins, a ghost of his old, wicked grin. "They thought I'd make a better Healer." Idly, his fingers trace the hook of his scruffy jaw, looking off into the middle distance as memories four hundred Turns and more old surface briefly. "I'm Bitran," He shrugs, not liking to admit his place of origin. However, honesty compels him to answer her. "M'brother hightailed it for Benden soon's he could, actually." His gaze is suddenly on Mayte, speculatively - an interesting idea is forming in his head. Does he know her family? Who knows. Her tease earns her a smirk, the bracelet held out again. "Here, take it. Keep hold of it til you're allowed to wear it."

Mayte huhs and eyes A'lory skeptically, "A Healer, huh?" The continuation of that line of thought is quickly clamped down on with a very mischevious grin, but she does allow, "It's nice at Benden," rubbing an elbow absently, before gingerly reaching for the present, "Thank you, Weyrsecond," she says quietly, a little awed, "It's very kind of you." That last part sounds only slightly automatic, but she purses her lips for a moment and then holds out her wrist and the bracelet, "Would you?" since jaw bruises make one-handed clasp manipulation impossible, "Please? Just for a little while." Despite all attempt to prove otherwise, Mayte is still a girl.

A'lory smiles at her. "Cheeky git - whatever you're thinking, it's probably true." The bracelet and Mayte's wrist are reached for, his thick fingers fastening it with apparent ease before he releases her. Oh, he's understanding of girls - mostly, anyway. "Shaffit." He mutters as a mental reminder makes his eyes go a bit wonky. "Wish that idiot beast of mine wouldn't do that… I've got to go, meet with W'rin. Hopefully the matter of Peaston will be solved to our mutual satisfaction here." He grins at her again. "Behave, chit - we'll talk again, shall we?" And then he's off, shoving his hands in his pockets.

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