Linden, Sabina


Sabina serves soup to a Candidate with the sniffles and gets a side of gossip.


It is the eighty-eighth day of Summer and 25 degrees.


Dining Hall, Southern Hold

OOC Date


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Dining Hall

A space where people come and eat. There are tables and chairs, and it is server-style: there isn't a buffet in sight. Come in, sit down, order some food. There's a menu in the corner announcing what is to be had daily.. there's a lot of fish soups and caribou roast. And tubers. Lots of tubers.

It looks as though several people have finished a meal and gone. Dishes litter the tables and chairs are still askew. A few tables still have diners seated at them and helpful servants dash to and fro along the walls of the Hall. One of those such dashing bodies is Sabina. Woven basket in hand she approaches an empty table and sets the basket in a chair. Industriously cleaning away the debris left from someone’s meal. Dirty dishes are deposited in the basket and a clean rag is used to wipe the table surface as she works.

Linden was here, got sick, was sent back to the weyr, barely healed, and was sent back up here after the flight and murder duo. He's not pleased about it either, sulking at a corner table, sniffling over a mug of klah. His eyes flick up to watch Sabina dash around, before turning his head to sneeze into a handkerchief. Mutter.

Sabina tends to work where she is told and not ask too many questions. Her first several moons were spent doing odd jobs about the Weyr. But help seems to be needed here.. and well here she is. The table before her is finally clean and straightened. Linden’s sneeze draws her attention as she straightens up and props her basket on her hip. Distractedly she slides the chair back into place. Everything must be proper after all. “May I fetch you a refill?” Her free hand gestures to his klah mug.

Linden looks up in some surprise, then down to his mug. "Please," he says, offering the mug with a faint smile. "With cream if we've got any left…" There is hope in his voice that there might still be some.

“Back in a jiff,” Sabina assures the boy and takes the offered mug. Away she goes. Basket on one hip, mug of klah in her other hand. Thusly her arms are occupied and she turns round to back through the door into the kitchens. The rattle and clank of the kitchens is muted until she emerges once more. A small bowl is balanced on a plate in one hand, and a mug with steam rising in the other. “If that sneeze is any indication I’d wager you need this too,” Sabina says and sets a bowl of soup down along with the klah. “Hope I got the right amount of cream in it for you. A dallop’s all we’re allowed to add I’m afraid.”

Linden smiles winningly at her, his gaze almost adoring when she brings back soup too. "That's fine, anything is better than drinking it black," he says gratefully. "Thank you so much." Hovering his face over the soup he breathes in deeply, turns his head, coughs, and then picks up the spoon. He's quick to set it down though, extending a gloved (even in here) hand. "Linden. Candidate, Searched from Ista."

That winning smile is enough to coax an answering grin from Sabina. “You’re quite welcome. The staff prides themselves on good service.” Okay so she does and isn’t entirely sure what some of the other girls are thinking. But that is neither here nor there. The extension of a gloved hand is enough to make her blink quizzically for a split second. Still not used to such hospitality from folks. “Sabina, formerly of Bitra. Your server today,” she introduces herself and slips a dainty hand into his for a surprisingly decent shake. “Tomorrow who knows where I’ll be working.” Retracting her hand, Bina tilts her head and smiles at Linden. “No wonder you have the sniffles. It’s a tad cooler up here than you’re used to eh?”

Linden takes his hand back after the shake, smiling at her and taking a bite of her soup. "Well met, Sabina of Bitra. I hope you work here as long as I'm stuck here." It's a compliment, honest. He sniffles again (power of suggestion) and nods. "Oh yes, much, much colder. My body can't seem to get used to it. Already got sick and sent back to the weyr once. But then they moved us all back here for good, 'til the eggs hatch. Feeling a bit better but can't seem to shake the sniffles…"

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well." Sabina watches him try the soup curiously. Hoping she chose one he'll like. If not she'll fetch another. Soup here at the Hall is on the menu in a variety of ways. "Stuck eh? I suppose I can understand that sentiment." She's been well and truly stuck in bad situations before. "Still I think it's an amazing honor to be asked to Stand." And she would having never done the like herself. You go ahead and risk maiming, she's all kinds of good without it thanks. "I admit to some curiosity though," she glances around as though fearful of reprimand. Gasp! She's about to ask a question! "What went wrong with the usual dorms?" Every Weyr has them right?

Linden nods his head swiftly. "Oh, it is! It really is, and I'm honored and /very/ excited about it. I just wish we weren't stuck /here/." He looks up at her and shrugs. "Nothing, really, but I think they just want us out of the weyr. There was a murder, you know. We're here so we're safe, I think." He can appreciate that. Somewhat.

Sabina would rather be stuck here in the cold Hold than spend another day back in Bitra. Granted working down in the Weyr here was a tad more pleasant in the warmth department. “By the time the eggs hatch and destiny takes its course I imagine you’ll be used to the chill.” The hazard of working oneself into the ground and only speaking when spoken to? You miss vital pieces of information. “A murder you say?” Her brow rises in concern and morbid fascination. “And in theory the suspect is what? Allergic to the cold?”

Linden chuckles, a bit of a flush to his cheeks. "Maybe. We'll see." Then his eyes widen and he nods. "Yes! My dad was there, he told me about it. A brownrider, during the flight, got a knife in his back and /died/ right there in the Living Caverns!" He shudders. "It was awful." Then he laughs, which turns into a cough that he tucks into the handkerchief. "I dunno. Still at the weyr? Or long gone if they're smart. Long, /long/ gone."

A brownrider..?! What on Pern? “I was working up here during the flight.” Working hard at what she likely won’t say! “Most folks keep to themselves up this way. I think the cold makes everyone cranky.” It’s certainly settled uncomfortably in her own bones. “So I’d not heard a whisper of it.” Her fingers creep upward and worry at a fastening on her donated coat. “I know flights get chaotic and confusing but I’d never have believed such a thing possible in a crowd like that.”

Linden whistles softly. "You hadn't heard at all? Wow. It's all over the place back at the weyr. Yeah, it's awful. Dad said it was the worst flight he'd ever been to, for chaos and stuff. Not just 'cuz someone was murdered. But. I guess it was crazy."

Sabina has the grace to look ashamed. “No. I’d not heard anything.” She lifts a shoulder in a slight shrug. “A few of the workers don’t much care for me.” Friends have been hard to come by, and thusly gossip harder still. With a shake of her head she grunts softly. “It is a sad day when Dragonriders of all folk can’t feel safe in their own home.” What does that say for the little folk when the most prestigious and sometimes feared men on Pern are being stabbed in the back?! “I have seen the aftermath of such things back home. And they can take a while to clean up. But I’ve never heard of such a horrible thing. I certainly hope it’s discovered who did it.”

Linden frowns a little bit, looking at her for a long moment. "Why wouldn't they care for you?" She's nice, pretty, and brought him klah and soup. She's awesome! Then he sobers. "That is true," he says with a frown and a nod. Then something hits him and he sits up. "It could've been my dad." There's a sobering thought, and he shudders with it. "In Bitra? How'd you get here from Bitra? That's a long ways…"

“I spend too much time at my work,” Sabina answers blithely as to why others aren’t happy with her. In an uncharacteristic show of support she leans to rest her hand lightly on Linden’s shoulder for a moment. “But it wasn’t your father. He’s fine and you must content yourself with that,” she tells the boy with a light squeeze before dropping her hand back to her side. “How I came to be here from Bitra is a rather long story. But the shortest version is I made a friend in a patron. And he brought me here after a brief stay in Benden Weyr.”

Linden tilts his head, and then smiles. "You should get out and play more." Says the teenager. He smiles when she squeezes his shoulder, taking a slow breath and nodding. "No, Dad's fine. Safe, in Ista." His brows lift at her story. "Oooh, was he your boyfriend? What happened? Benden's a long way from here."

The beguiling smile and teasing remark surprise a laugh out of Sabina. Oh to be a teenager again! On second thought.. perhaps not. “That is one way to look at it. But I’m afraid I don’t know how to play anymore.” Or do much of anything resembling fun. The idea of L'cak as a boyfriend has both hands flying up to cover Bina’s smile as she tries hard not to dissolve into giggles. She shakes her head negatively while getting herself under control. “Oh goodness no! Nothing like that.” In fact Sabina’s never had a man to call a ‘boyfreind’. “He isn’t likely to be interested in me ever I don’t believe.” Casting a glance around her, she makes a decision and perches in the chair to Linden’s right. “Benden is a long way from here. And distance is what I needed.”

Linden huffs with a crooked grin. "I could show you how to play. Lots of things to do around here. Sledding and snowball fights, skiing and skating, hide and seek even." He's perking up a bit, with the soup and klah. He is confused when she laughs, tilting his head a little bit and peeking at her. "Why? Does he like guys? Why did you need distance, what happened?" There's a pause. "You should meet my dad. He's a great guy." Oy, Linden.

Hide and seek, sledding, and snow ball fights? Oh my! Sabina regards the teenager for a moment before grinning like a fool. “You know I’ve never been on a sled before.” The thought appeals to her on some childish level. “I’d likely get my hide beat blue for such a thing though. Wouldn’t I? I can’t just shirk my duties after all.” This young man has managed to get Sabina to warm up to him. “You remind me a lot of a boy back home.” With a soft sigh she nods her head, “When his dragon doesn’t decide otherwise for him. L’cak prefers male company yes.” As to why she needed the distance.. “I was worn ragged working in a gambling den in Bitra. I ran across a gentleman who needed some time to cool his head.” A lot of time if she moved clear down here. “A fresh start was in order. And I quite like it down here.” She tilts her head and chuckles, “I have to wonder what your father would say to you arranging meetings with unknown women..”

Linden gasps. "You've never been on a SLED? When are you done?" When do you get off work, baby. Want to come sledding with me? Yeah, he's 15. "Well…not /during/ work but after work. Surely you don't work /all/ the time, right?" He tilts his head. "Who?" he asks, ever curious, before he nods. "Is he a greenrider then?" Thoughtfulness creases his brows. "That must'a been hard. Heard lots about Bitra's gambling dens. Never been," duh, "but…I've heard stories. What did the guy do?" Then he grins crookedly. "He always said I was a good judge of people! I don't think he'd mind, he likes meeting new people."

Sabina spent rare moments with a friend’s children in Bitra. Linden reminds Bina of her friend’s son. “When Rukbat has set and it’s time for bed. Isn’t that the usual way of things?” Time off? The den owner didn’t allow time off. Sabina has no clue what the lad is referring to. “L’cak is the greenrider,” she confirms with a nod of her head. “He enjoyed playing cards on occasion and would try his luck where I worked.” Hence how she met him in the first place. “The guy that needed cooling off?” Sabina weighs her words with a sigh. “The cards didn’t fall in his favor one too many times and he got it in his head that I was the reason. Why I’ll never understand.” She served drinks, food, and mopped up the blood from brawls. “Alas, it doesn’t matter. Rather than risk it L’cak got me out of there and the den owner was rather.. um.. displeased. So I chose to start anew.” She chuckles softly and shakes her head, “If your father is anything like you I’m quite sure he’s a very nice man.”

Linden tilts his head a little bit, "You don't get any free time during the day? Or days off? It's not very safe to go sledding at night…but I suppose we /could/…if we had glows, or torches, I could make a little course…bet Nate would help me…" Hmm. He's pondering it over his next spoonful of soup. "Oh. Well that was really mean of him. Sounds like a jerk, wasn't your fault. Good for L'cak." Then he grins. "He /is/. He comes to visit me every sevenday or so. You should meet him." Hello, awkward.

Sabina ponders the thought of days off and shrugs her shoulders. “You know.. I never thought to ask.” She’d been assigned various duties and been rather happy just to have work and a bunk to rest her head. “I suppose next I see him I’ll ask the Headman if I might have a day to myself.” She eyes Linden as other adults no doubt have in the past. “Sledding at night would be fool hardy to say the least. What would become of me if the adult in the group allowed one of you boys to be hurt?” While the idea of hurtling down a slope on a piece of wood does hold a little appeal. Sabina has hardly lost her mind. “Sometimes I’m grateful for the gentleman and his mistake. If not for him, I’d never have had the courage to come here.” And we’re back to awkward. Which has Sabina rising from her chair. “I’m pleased to hear your father visits. You should eat your soup Linden. And try to defeat those sniffles before you see him again eh?” She glances toward the kitchens then back at the boy. “I’d best get on with my duties before I get myself in trouble. I’ll check on you in a while.” With that she drifts off and disappears through the door.

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