==== December 28, 2013
==== Nathanael, Cerise
==== Cerise finally ventures out of the Infirm to be greeted with cake!

Who Nathanael, Cerise
What Cerise finally ventures out of the Infirm to be greeted with Cake!
When 4 months and 6 days until the 12th pass.
Where Living Caverns

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Living Caverns
Grand and spacious, the cavern curves high aloft in naturally-vaulted ceiling that soothes any sense of claustrophiba. Rich woods line the cavern floor, varnished and stained a rich mahogany, while round tables scatter about candlelit and intimate. The largest table lies southerly next the sideboard, long trestles that seem oriented to providing for the weyr's youngest. The rich blue of Azov can be seen from a distance in good weather, when the heavy stone doors covering the entrance are allowed to stand open.


Blah blah blah, real food, blah blah, get out of the infirmary. FINE. Cerise will do it but it's totally under protest- until she gets a whiff of the roast that's been carved up and laid out in slices for the hungry masses. It's early yet for those masses to show, which means the weyrling had first rights to the meat (and tubers and greens and everything else on the buffet). This has led to one incredibly heavy plate set at a table, while Cerise hunkers over it, alternating bites of roast with bites of buttery fresh bread and the occasional blissful gulp of wine.

Nathanael doesn't enter the living caverns so much as BURST into the living caverns. For his slight frame the doors both knock uncommonly loudly as he pushes them open with one sandled foot. Those who look up with chastisement on their faces stop when they realize the now 4'8" (that's a whole three inches in a year mind) sea crafter's hands are full. He carries a large platter and upon it is a cake. Not one of those white-flour-ew-icing cakes, but down to earth root-inspired cake. Nathanael juggles the cake and pauses to offer a slice to everyone he sees as he walks through the caverns. His roundabout way through the caverns abruptly stops when he sees the weyrling. "CERISE!" The blond teen calls out, and leaves the man reaching for the offered slice. It is half a skip that brings Nathanael to Cerises table, and the cake is promptly slid off and out of his hands so he can wrap his arms around her in a tight hug. "They was sayin' ye dun leave 'e infirm no more, 'cuz of ye dragon, but pa said I shouldn' be bothin' ye 'cuz ye proly was healing ye self 'n no one was sayin' nothin'! But ye're 'ere, so ye're all better?" Nathanael stops abruptly and steps backwards examining the woman. "Ye dono' look like 'e self." A hand flies upwards over his mouth, "Tho' ye still be looking pretty!"

Truly this is a spectacle worthy of pulling the hollow-eyed greenling away from her meal. Cerise looks up- and promptly engages in staring. He has grown, but it's more a Seacraft apprentice merrily playing baker's assistant that has engaged her attention. When her name is called, she waves the heel of the loaf she has trapped in her right hand. "Oy, Nate, just thought I'd- whuff!" That's about the time that his arms lock around her, leaving her to awkwardly pat the boy on the back. With bread. It is a very yeasty pat pat followed by a weak attempt at grin. Where are the dimples. "I'm trying, bucko, I really am. It's only Jia's been so ill, aye? But she's perking up some now and so here I am, in all my…uh…" A quick glance down at herself, gaunt in rumpled weyrling uniform, does not exactly give an impression of glory. So she leaves that sentence unfinished and goes for a distractionary tactic: "When'd you get so bloody tall?"

Crumbs tumble off of his back from where the bread had patted, but Nathanael takes no mind. Instead he simply puts on a bright grin and stands his utter tallest. "Ain't seen most of ye f'r 'most a turn! 'n 's only a bit, Pa says 's proly jus' 'e beginin' -'m 14 turns t'day!" This seems to recall Nathanael to the reason he came to the living caverns and he hops backwards a step. "'e 'ad too much f'r jus' us'n I was thinkin' peps 'ight be wantin' some've m' cake! 'e want some?" Nathanael is already busy cutting off a slice for the weyrling.

Oh, that. Cerise makes a grimace of maybe apology and shakes her head at the lad, but his brighter news draws a brighter reaction. "Is it, truly? Happy turnday to you, Nate! It's a credit to you that you'd share such a thing, if I ever had a cake on my turn day you could be sure it was mine and mine alone. Take a chair, aye? Rest a bit, have a nibble with me. I'll have the roast first but a slice after the main meal's done sounds lovely. S'been awhile since I had proper food," she is forced to admit. A bite of bread is tucked into one cheek, making it stand out. "The Weyrsmith, he came by with a guard for Jia's stump earlier, and had words to say about my meals. So I'm proving him wrong."

Nathanael finishes cutting off a more then generous slice of cake to put right next to Cerise's plate of roast. "'e don't be feedin' ye proper down 'n 'e Infirm?" This seems to trouble the little crafter for only a moment before another smile brightens his face. "If'n ye wanted I could be bringin' 'e real food! Pa says 'e won't be goin' out f'r another few weeks on 'e long fishin' trip, so it ain't nothing what'd be a bother." Nathanael plunks himself down on the chair to ponder ways of delivering real food to the skinny performer-turned-rider. "Course, 'e healers might not be likin' 'at, so mayhap not 'less'en 'hey 'greed." He runs a hand through short croped hair, what has managed to grow back in the two months since Nika had gotten ahold of him.

"No, no, s'more like I'd forgot I had a stomach at all, aye? Jia'd just been blooding until a few days ago, and with the hurting and the fellis…" But these are not proper happy birthday topics. Cerise shapes a smile around her chewing that bread, then washes the mess down with another swallow of wine. "She's been cleared to try to wobble about a little in a few days, with Caelth along to keep her from flopping over, or to lift her if she tires. If she can build up a little muscle then it's into the ground weyrs for her and you can visit as often as you'd like. We've nothing to but concentrate on becoming stronger, and she does love to play the hostess, it'd keep her mind off of things beautifully."

"'s great news! i' canno' be fun t' have sum'un 'e love hurtin'." Nathanael says this with all the grave wisdom that 14 years of life can deliver. He shakes this off quickly enough as a bright idea plays across his face. "If'n 'he likes t' play, I bet som've 'e li'l ones 'd be willin' t' do some playin' 'r fetchin f'r 'er, mayhap w' 'e balls 'r somethin'. They got plenty've time 'n 'e nanny seems real nice." Nathanael reaches out for the cake to run a finger though the icing left behind loading it up with the the sugary stuff and popping it into his mouth. Smudges of icing are left on his lips, and clinging to… are those faint blond mustache hairs?

Cerise plies fork and knife to attack the slices of roast beast again. The edge has been taken off of her appetite and she's able to eat at a more civil pace, nodding along to the young man's assessment of the news being positive. "She's not so keen on little ones. Her idea of playing is more like Holdbound ladies, aye? All sitting in a knitting circle, gossiping about each others' gentlemen. She keeps the healing dragons busy with her chatter, sure enough. But…y'know, she's been in that wallow long enough she probably wouldn't mind the children coming by, if only to watch them at their playing." Between bites, she spares glances at Nathanael and what is seen draws another faint smile. "What've you then, lad? Your apprenticeship keeping you busy? Has it been all good luck for your da's ship?"

"If'n 'e dun 'ike 'e kids mayhap not then." Nathanael doesn't seem at all offput by his idea not at all being ideal, and so he swings into another one. "Maype 'e ol' fisher nannys 'n? What're fixin' 'e nets. 'e gossip 'ike 'e place'll fall down if'n 'e dun keep'er up with them air." There's a bright smile as Nathanael delivers this, the observation clearly made out of love. "'m betting 'hey'd be more'n happy t' gossip to 'er 'n 'hey'd be closer t' 'e gossip source!" Nathanael delivers this with EXTREME excitement, as if he has landed on the best idea ever. Only then does he recall her question. "Oh! Well, Pa's found sum ol' records what say fish like t' eat them Threads after 'hey drown. so we been goin' out 't odd hours t' see if'n we can peg where 'e fish might be eatin 'em baised off've what 'e starcrafter's 're predictin. 's jus' pa 'n me, so it can be lonely sum'times, but I dunno' mind much. Got 'bout two more years 'fore they'll make me senior 'pprentice, but 'm workin t' make i' happen sooner if'n I can." Nathanael rubs another finger through the frosting, and pops it in his mouth.

"She'd love that sort, all the gossip and chatter." The sheer enthusiasm behind Cerise's gushing is enough to send crumbs from her lips, spilled loosed by the force of her breath. Oops. She pauses to wipe the back of her wrist over her mouth to prevent a repeat. There's also a good chance she doesn't understand one word in three of what he says next but she is an actress, even now. The nodding that happens signal understanding, and approval. "Sooner's always better in my estimation." So she got that much, at least. She's in the process of scooping up the last of the tubers when her eyes do the thing that rider's eyes do- they turn inward. The reason is clear a moment later when she chirps, "Jia!" and stands to go- but not before gathering up that slice of cake in her bare hand to take with. "Good seeing you, Nate, and good luck!"

As Cerise pops out of her seat Nathanael does the same. She's moving too fast for Nathanael to get another hug in, so he doesn't. Instead he waves the frosting covered hand. "I'll be askin' 'e granny's if'n they'd wanna!" he calls after her. Then his attention turns back to the good chunk of cake he still as, and upwards around the cavern at the cake-less eaters. Up into his hands the cake is swept as he trots around to another eater. "Ye be wantin' some cake?"

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