==== November 13th, 2013
==== Nevelyn, Arlemond
==== A meet-n-greet klah-sipper. Arlemond isn't one for small talk.

Who Nevelyn, Arlemond
What A meet-n-greet klah-sipper. Arlemond isn't one for small talk.
When Mid morning
Where Southern Weyr

nevelyn.jpg arlemond.jpg


Night Hearth
A comfortable nook, this natural extension of the living room is cozily attired with overstuffed chairs and a couple of well-worn loveseats. All have been covered in various shades of green, giving the very incongruous appeal of a miniature forest hidden away inside… a grove of man-made proportion. Fish stews and spicy white-wherry chili are often kept hot on the minor hearths east and west of the main, for those whose hours defy when meals are kept. Ornate, the largest hearth towers high, rich with carving and utilitarian in fashion: it holds court by providing the weyr with rich klah, the air thick with the scent of cinnamon wafting.

Breakfast has been cleared for some time, but the weather has driven more weyr residents indoors and so there is a bit of a bustle in the Living Caverns. By design, the Nighthearth is cozier, quieter and Arlemond has sought it out to finish some writing. He is sitting in a chair, leg crossed to support a portable writing desk. He is scribbling thoughtfully, pausing to ruminate every so often and smiling or scowling as writes.

With breakfast over and children fed, bathed, and down for a nap. Now is a good time for a nanny to take a much deserved break. The bustle of the Living Caverns is almost as overwhelming as the bustle of a roomful of children. Nevelyn snags herself a mug of chilled juice and attempts to escape to the quieter atmosphere of the Nighthearth. As she approaches she sees a gentleman already there and working away at something. So with the stealth born of sneaking up on naughty children, she quietly ensconces herself on a loveseat and downs a sip of her juice. Her smile is friendly though she remains quiet in an effort not to intrude over much.

Arlemond is mid-rumination when the young woman enters. The chairs are arranged in a such a way to encourage conversation. As the nanny enters, Arlemond sets the writing table aside and stands. He bows, "Good morning, miss." His voice is a gravelly baritone. He notes her knot and dress, handprints and other signs of working with children, "Grabbing a quiet moment for yourself?"

Nevelyn beams and dips a bit before sliding into her seat. "Good morning, Sir." She smoothes her skirt with her free hand and daintily crosses her legs. What with the heat outside she tends to forego hot drinks much past breakfast. And so her juice is cool and crisp as she sips the beverage. "That was the hope," she admits with a nod. "It's a rare moment these days that I get to take a break outside of the rare Restday. Thankfully the rest of the staff is on board today. So we've decided to split shifts watching the children so we might each have a moment's rest." She settles against the back of the loveseat and attempts to rest a bit. "I'm Nevelyn. One of the resident nannies on duty."

Arlemond inclines his head at her explanation, "Well met, Nevelyn." He grates, "Arlemond, Stonesmith, newly arrived at Southern." When she is settled, he reseats himself and takes up a cup of klah gone too cool for his liking. Still, it's not cool enough outside to warrant anything terribly hot. He smiles neutrally, "I will be making an inspection of the weyr soon, are there any issues in the nurseries that you would like to see addressed?" So much for small talk.

The mug of juice is set on a side table as Nevelyn produces a yellow ribbon and secures her hair back and off her neck. "Welcome to Southern Arlemond." She knots he ribbon into a pretty bow and then lowers her arms, snagging her mug of juice again. She considers the question he put forth carefully. Wracking her brain for any suggestions or issues she can think of. "None that would warrant at Stonesmith that I can think of right off," she admits with a lifted shoulder. "The walls are all sturdy and standing. Save for the dire need of fresh color in the playroom it's cozy enough." A little depressing with the faded colors on the walls. "I appreciate the inquiry though."

Arlemond nods at the welcome and the report from the nurseries. He watches as she ties up her hair, "How old are you, Nevelyn?" Wow. REALLY dispensing with the small talk.

Nevelyn blinks at the frank question. Now there's one most men are smart enough to avoid! She sips her juice and lowers the mug to rest on her knee. Keeping it balanced there with a hand wrapped 'round it. "I'm twenty-two," she admits with a baffled tone. "Why?" After all her age hardly matters in context with the conversation. At least she isn't seeing any dots to connect. For that matter she isn't sure why he'd concerned himself asking a Nanny about issues in the nursery. She'd assumed he'd been looking for insider information. Seeing as she all but lives in the children's area.

Ah. Twenty-two. He expands, "My wife and daughters will join me in Southern." His eyes tighten briefly… concern? dismay? "And I am interested to learn," his eyes flick to the short hem of her dress, "what life is like for a young woman here."

Oh! Well that makes a little more sense! Nevelyn smiles when he reveals the reasoning for his odd question. She notes the glance at the hem of her dress and smoothes the skirt across her lap again. "I see." She knows full well her dress is a little, well, short for the times. But a newly made friend gave it to her. And said friend came from long ago and had thought the garment looked smashing against her skin tone. "My son and I have settled in quite well." Oh boy does she adore messing with men like Arlemond. She languidly kicks her foot to a rhythm only she can hear. "It's been quite the change from Sea life mind you. But I've found it both educational and enjoyable. It's a lovely place to raise a seven turn old what with so many children about his own age."

Arlemond notes the smoothing and the languid kicking. If he thinks anything one way or another about her age or the age of her son, he keeps it to himself. "It is important to interact at that age." Bah. Cold klah. He stands, "Can I get you anything?"

Nevelyn smiles and nods her agreement. "I'm glad that he's made himself a friend or two amongst the other kids. I never had children around to play with when I was growing up." She hadn't realized how important it really is until she'd found herself stranded here. Her bobbing foot slows to a halt when he stands up. "Oh," she looks down at her nearly empty mug, "I wouldn't mind a refill. Redfruit juice if you'd please?" She holds the mug up in offering. Friends are hard to come by around here and her smile is really grateful.

Arlemond sketches a faint bow, taking her cup, warms up his klah and refills her mug with juice. He returns it and resumes his seat, "My daughters certainly don't appreciate one another yet. That will come with time." He quirks a brow, "One hopes." He considers Nevelyn, "What is your son's name?"

Nevelyn tilts her head in difference to the bow and watches him refill the mugs. "Thank you," she accepts the mug from him with a smile. Sipping the beverage quietly for a moment. "I certainly hope they sort it out amongst them," she says of his daughters. "I haven't any siblings to argue with." At least none she is aware of anyhow. "My son? His name is Nevach." Her attention shifts to the drudge hovering behind a chair. "Yes Chei?" The little drudge shuffles forward and whispers to Neve. "I'll be right there." She smiles at Arlemond, "It's been very nice meeting you. But I must be getting back." With that she pushes to her feet and is off.

Arlemond stands at Nevelyn's departure. "A nanny's work…" He bows, "Well met, Nevelyn. I will be by the Inner Caverns within a sevenday." He sits and replaces the desk on his lap, pen scritching as he continues a letter home.

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