Jazene, Tavil


Talk of mud and harvest.


It is the first day of Autumn and 101 degrees.


Stables, Baths

OOC Date


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The stone stables of Southern sweep breezily in arches and vaulted ceilings, done in the same architecture that figures so prominently within the inner caverns. A half-loft in the back shows neatly stacked hay bales, the sweet scents from the fodder drifting down to commingle with the aroma of runner and leather and sweat. There, broad box stalls house inhabitants safely away from the fancies of dragons: nickers and restless stompings fill the air, nirvana to those so inclined.

Tavil has spent the better part of the day with the Herderfolk, going over what they'll need and what's available for the upcoming harvest, having left Jazzy in charge of the crew working the fields today. It's just about quitting time for everyone, though, and Tavil's heading out towards the stifling sun outside, wiping at his brow with a handkerchief to keep the sweat out of his eyes.

The nearly unbearable heat out in the fields today was only made worse by the steady rain that fell most of the morning and early afternoon. It served to add to the humidity and make the work even more difficult. Leaving everyone feeling soaked from head to toe for the remainder of the day. Jazene and her mount are no exception to this rule it seems. She dismounts out in the courtyard and turns her runner over to a stable boy. “Thanks kid,” she calls and watches the boy walk the mare to cool her out some. “Whew,” her breath hisses past her teeth even as she lifts a mud splattered forearm to wipe at the sweat beading on her brow. Only succeeding in leaving a worse trail of dirt across her brow.

Tavil walks outside just in time to watch that scene, and chuckles at the results of Jazzy wiping her brow. "Evenin', love," he says with a smile, offering her the handkerchief. "You got a little something on your face, babe." When she takes the offered rag, he looks around the complex which is rapidly emptying of apprentices, and chuckles at the scene. "How'd it go? No one came running to get me, so I'm guessing you didn't have too many problems."

Jazene smiles happily when Tavil walks over to greet her. Her fingers reaching to accept the handkerchief. “Thanks.” She swipes at her face and attempts to scrub the worst of the mud from her skin. “Well it wasn’t a total disaster,” she admits with a shrug of her shoulder. Giving up on her face she holds the handkerchief out for him to take back. “The rain didn’t let up until about midmorning though. Once we were able to get out in the drizzle we accomplished the last of the fourth terrace. But not without becoming mud people.” She looks down at her soaked dress with a grimace before lifting her eyes Tavil-ward again. Uncaring as usual that the material clings to her body. “A pair of kids sent out as punishment ended up have a grand ol’ time rolling in the mud. But at least they did a fair share of weedin.”

Tavil is rather enjoying the way her dress clings, and he chuckles at the thought of the kids having a roll in the mud. "I figured it was going to rain pretty badly, so I packed you some clothes," he says, ducking just inside the entrance and pulling out a familiar leather bag. "I don't want to clean all that muck out of my shower, and I don't think you want to clean it out of yours either, so shall we head for the baths, then? I hear that the Smiths have finally got the 'cool' bath fixed, so that it's actually fairly cool now, instead of tepid."

Jazene is more concerned with getting the mud washed out of the folds of her dress than she is with how it currently fits. She stops fussing with the damp material when he tells her of clean clothes in the offing. “That’s sweet of you honey. Thank you.” She eyes the leather bag with a relieved smile. “I wasn’t looking forward to wearing this all day.” She turns on her heel and falls into step beside him even as he explains the state of the baths to her. “I sure hope they got it fixed whatever the trouble was. There was just no escaping the heat a few sevens ago. Not that it’s been all that much better of late.” Still not as hot as that particular day had been.

Tavil chuckles and shakes his head. "That day was terrible… I've noticed a lot more people sneaking into the kitchens since then, though," he says with a grin. Despite the differences in cleanliness between them, he bumps into her playfully. "I suppose we'll just have to find out about the baths, won't we love? The Herders say that they'll have everything ready for us, as long as they get the harnesses they were promised. It oughta be alright, though. I told 'em it better be, or we'll be getting awfully hungry."

“It truly was,” Jazene agrees wholeheartedly with a sigh tacked on just from remembering. “We can’t be the only ones who have figured out that particular trick,” she sidesteps when he bumps her and smiles up at him. “I’m sure lots of people try to sneak into the Stores to cool off.” It isn’t a Weyr secret or anything. “That we will,” she agrees and nods her head, “cool or tepid it doesn’t much matter. I’m about covered in mud.” Well not quite but she’s wearing a decent amount of the stuff. “They had better get then harnesses!” Jazzy looks up at Tavil with wide eyes. “Else wise we’ll have the whole Weyr out there with baskets in hand! And wouldn’t that be a sight to behold.” The harvest must come in one way or another after all.

Looking down at her in return, Tavil grins. "They will, love, they will. I can't imagine that they'd be in too much of a rush to explain to the Weyrwoman why she's out in the fields with us pulling up tubers," he says with amusement on his voice. "I'm proud of you, handling the workers like that. It's good that they've figured out that you know what you're doing just as well as I do," he says with a grin.

Jazene’s eyes go wide at mention of the Weyrwoman out there butt in air pulling tubers. She has to stop walking for a moment. Mainly because she starts laughing so hard she can barely breathe. “Oh-oh no!” She gasps for air and leans over to press one hand to her belly and the other on her knees. Bent double with amusement. “Ah-oh,” she finally catches her breath and stands up. Wiping tears of mirth from her cheeks with her dirty fingers. “Now that would be worth some Marks to see.” She shakes her head and gets to moving again. “What about the workers?” She lost her train of thought. Lost in the moment of hilarity. “Oh yeah,” she waves her hand and smiles up at him. “They have figured out that I’ll tattle on them if they give me a hard time is what they’ve figured out.”

Tavil grins at her laughter, chuckling along as he waits for her to catch her breath. "You looked like you needed a laugh, babe," he says once she's upright again, smiling. "You're right, though, we could totally charge admission for that. Might be able to get the harnesses if the tanner's down here can't keep up," he says with a wicked smile. "Don't sell yourself short, love. You really do know what you're doing, and they're starting to realize it." He looks around as the walk across the bowl towards the living caverns, and the baths beyond, taking the sights in once again. "Still kind of hard to believe that we live here sometimes, isn't it?"

Jazene sniffs softly an after effect of so much laughter. “I was certainly due for a laugh after today. It’s really hard to keep morale up when folks are hot, wet, and tired.” Add it all up and you have a recipe for disaster and angry mobs. “I have to wonder if she’d be willing to wear a pink dress for the occasion,” she remarks off-hand. Obviously a hit on the puke pink state of the Weyr some time ago. “I’ve heard tell she’s not all bad really.” She shrugs a shoulder as they venture ever closer to the living caverns. “I have trouble believing it isn’t a dream sometimes.” Jazzy glances around at the usual bustle of activity while she treks along at Tavil’s side. “I feel like if I close my eyes I’ll wake up back in the apprentice dorms some days.”

Tavil can't help but let out a bark of laughter at the mental picture of Lendai in pink dress, digging up tubers for the harvest. "Oh shards, that'd be great. Would probably be a great morale booster, don't you think?" he asks, grinning. When Jazene mentions waking up in the apprentice dorms, he just scoffs and shakes his head. "Don't say that, it might happen, and then where would we be? Even with the heat, this place is better than the dorms!"

Jazene grins with delight when Tavil laughs at her joke. “It would indeed go far at lifting morale around here.” When they step into the living caverns it’s almost worse than outside. The heat from the kitchens serving to warm the sticky air the farther they get inside. She attempts to ignore the discomfort in favor of a mental promise involving cold water soon. “You’re right I probably shouldn’t tempt fate huh? I’d be crushed if I woke up alone in the dorms.” Then again it would be just another morning for her. “Though if I’m making this place up I’m doing a pretty intricate job of it.” She sidesteps and bumps into Tavil to keep a tray laden drudge from slamming into her with dirty dishes.

Tavil wraps an arm around Jazene's shoulder as she bumps into him, squeezing her into a hug and not really caring about the consequences for his shirt. Hey, they're headed for the baths, who cares? "I'm sure there's a reason she wouldn't be, though. The dignity of the office or something like that." He looks over at her, grinning. "You'd be crushed? Shards, that'd mean that I was having some very… interesting dreams about an apprentice. It'd be terrible," he teases her, finally making it to the hallway for the inner caverns and towards the baths.


The steamy fog of the baths could be an entirely different world, transitioning from the well-lit brilliance of the inner caverns: a different world entirely, one wrought in dreams and humid fog. Steam lifts from hot waters, obscuring those who bathe within, drenching any who dare enter. Well-maintained, well-stocked, the baths offer pre-netted portions of soapsand in various scents, fluffy towels in orderly rows, and five separate spring-fed pools, all of differing temperature: from scorching hot to soothing chill.


Most likely he’ll be rewarded with spots of mud on said shirt for his efforts. Jazene is dotted with the stuff after all. A day spent hauling stubborn weeds out of mud and packed ground will do that to you though. Without thinking about it she leans into his hug with a murmur of contentment. “Oh I would imagine so in all honesty. After all it wouldn’t be fitting for someone of such a station to be out playing in the dirt with the likes of us.” She glances up at Tavil with a smirk. “Would it be so terrible though? After all you can’t help a dream.” She slips into the baths and steps away from him to give them both room to do what must be done in preparation for the cool water awaiting them.

Tavil stoops down and unties his boots, slipping them off and tossing the socks in the hamper, the rest of his clothing following shortly thereafter. "Ah well, it'd still be entertaining, to say the least." He chuckles at her smirk, grinning. "It would be terrible, because I'd be going out of my way to avoid you for a while. Wouldn't do either of us any good if I got tossed out before you got your knot, now would it?" he teases. Grabbing some clean towels, he sets them on a table by the cool pool, and steps down into the water. "Oh, shards that feels good…" he murmurs, wading deeper before completely submersing himself.

Jazene has far less encumbrance upon her feet. Merely lifting each one to untie the strap holding each sandal to her foot and letting them drop to the floor haphazardly. Neatness has never been one of her strong suits. “Well,” she comments while her fingers work deftly on the knots securing the wrap dress to her body. “Actually by now I’d probably have my own room,” she reminds him with a sly wink. “After all I did walk the tables before you left remember?” With a shrug of her shoulders she disrobes and tosses her filthy dress in the general direction of the hamper. Not worried in the least when it hits the edge and drapes itself there. She watches him nab towels and fetches some soapsand for them before following him into the water. “Oh my yes! That’s certainly nice after melting in the fields all day.”

Tavil surfaces just in time to watch her come down into the water, wiping the water from his eyes and brow to grin lasciviously at her. "Mmmm, that's true. Of course, you've got your own room here, too, for all that you're hardly ever alone in it," he teases her, swimming closer to her so that he can lower his voice and not echo throughout the whole cavern. "I'm pretty glad they got it fixed too… We can't bring Vinson and Brosa down here, they'd never leave."

Jazene was in such a hurry to feel the cool water against her skin that she forgot to unwrap her hair. She works to remedy that situation now. Tugging loose the decorative pin that holds her turban in place. Slogging over to set it next to their towels where she’ll be sure to see it and unwrapping her hair before tossing the wrap up next to the pin. “That’s much better,” she admits as her hair falls about her shoulders. Looking over at Tavil, her knowing glance meeting his lascivious one. “Indeed I do. And both of our rooms get some use at one time or another.” Depending on how the breeze is blowing and whose room gets that breeze really. “We like to never got Vinson out of the stores last time. If he knew how to get there on his own we’d never see him again.” Grabbing one of the nets of soapsand she pours out a handful and dips her hand to wet it before working it into her hair.

Tavil gets some soapsand for himself and, since he doesn't have hair to wash, just starts at the top of his head and works his way down, pausing during a lull in the conversation to dunk his head underwater and wash the suds from his head and face before soaping up the rest. "Brosa wasn't any better, love. Neither of them wanted to go back up those stairs." Not that they got much of a choice in the end, but hey, at least they tried to complain! "I'm just glad that no one caught us with them down there. I doubt that they would've appreciated the canines in the storerooms."

Jazene makes sure her hair is lathered well before she slips beneath the water to scrub all the suds out. Making sure her hair is good and clean before resurfacing for air. She slides her hands across her face and back to get the water out of her eyes while slicking her hair back out of the way in the same motion. While she’s busy clearing water out of her face she hears him mention Brosa and chuckles. “You are entirely right. She whined the whole way back to the complex. But at least she didn’t lie down at the foot of the stairs and refuse to budge.” She hadn’t considered that particular problem and looks over at Tav while she lathers her neck, shoulders, and arms. “I’m glad for that too. I hadn’t thought about that particular issue.”

Tavil pauses to watch her for a little bit, grinning to himself as she washes her hair. Resuming his own scrubbing, he shrugs a little. "Vinson knows that I'm perfectly capable of picking him up and moving him if I want too." And, in fact, he had, carrying the mutt up the stairs like a sack of flour in his arms. "Eh, I don't think anything would've come from it, but who knows?" He ducks back down in the water, though he keeps his head above the ripples, and washes the suds from his upper body. "I'll never understand how you manage all that hair, baby. I'm glad that you do, but I'll never understand how.”

Jazene is busily scrubbing at the flecks of mud stubbornly clinging to the skin of her arms. “I just thought his protest was amusing. That’s all.” Seeing such a large canine carried up the stairs whining like a baby pup had been vastly amusing. She dunks her arm to rinse off the suds and eyes her arm critically before scrubbing at another spot of dirt. “I’ve almost always had long hair. It’s just something I hardly think of anymore.” Once you get used to caring for it, it requires very little thought actually. “I wonder if it will rain again tomorrow. It certainly did very little for the horrible heat.”

Tavil is all scrubbed off already, and just leans against the wall of the cool bath, watching Jazene scrub away the day. "I'd offer to help, but I'm afraid that wouldn't lead anywhere good," he jokes, grinning. "I guess you would get used to it, and yes, dear, I'm aware that your hair has always been long," he says with a grin. At the question of rain, he shrugs. "If it does, we'll both be walking in here dripping mud tomorrow. At least the seasons changing. It oughta start cooling down a little bit here before too much longer."

Jazene finally manages to get the mud off her arms and washes the rest of her chest and belly. “You’re fine right where you are,” she informs him with a twinkle of laughter in her eyes. “No use getting us tossed out of the Weyr.” She rinses off and wades to the side of the pool. A decent distance from him, to pull herself up and wash her legs and feet. “Unless it dries up overnight I’m guessing that the plants will still be damp come morning.” Still getting used to Southern’s weather. “I sure hope it cools down soon! Perhaps this time next Turn we’ll be a little more used to it.”

Tavil shoots her a lazy grin when she assures him that he's just fine, and sinks back down into the cool water, savoring the delicious feeling of comfort. "They wouldn't toss us out, love. We might get banned from the baths, but after a few days of that, they'll be begging at least me to get one." He chuckles, a sound deep in his chest. "Yeah, it'll probably still be pretty damp and muddy. Once it cools, we're going to have to get the harvest going, and quick. Talking to folks that've been here for a while, the real heavy rains start pretty quick after it cools down.

“It would upset me if we had to have an escort just to bathe,” Jazene tells him with a teasing look. She lathers up her legs and feet before slipping off the wall edge back into the water. “And you certainly do need your bath.” Anyone who sets foot in the fields needs one to be sure. Speaking of which a small group of folks pad into the baths and make quickly for one of the larger pools of cool water. “When should we start bringing in the harvest? I’m not keen on doing it in the midst of a torrential down pour.”

Tavil hmmmmms softly at her, grinning wickedly at her. "An escort, huh? You never struck me as the type to like an audience, love," he says, mirth on his voice. Then she goes and asks a serious question, causing him to roll his head back as he considers, calling things forth from memory. "The grains oughta be ready by the middle of next seven, and the river grains around then too. The tubers need another two sevens or so, as do the fingerroots. The garlic, onions, and tomatoes are all ready, we could start with them tomorrow. The orchards aren't our domain, yet, but I'm going to suggest to the headman that someone sees too them soon. Anything I'm forgetting?"

Jazene gasps in embarrassment and blushes, “Tavil!! What a thing to say!” She sinks into the water to her shoulders and steadfastly ignores the choking cough of the field hand closest to them who’d over heard. She settles herself against the cool wall of the bathing pool and enjoys the nipping temperature of the water. “Well then we’ll get everyone started on the garlic, onions, and tomatoes tomorrow. If we get those all in tomorrow we should likely start on the field of spices too. Before they all go to seed.” She nods her head in agreement about the orchards and contemplates his last question. “The two fields of Hops down on the lowest terrace.”

Tavil lets out a loud laugh at her embarrassment, grinning at her. "Only joking, love, only joking." He winks over at the field hand, still far too amused for his own good. "I'm sure the cook will be thrilled. I'll mention it to Nora, and we can get a canning party going for the tomatoes. Hopefully the cook is fairly decent at making sauces, because we have a lot of those to get in. You're right about the spices, too. Faranth knows they laid down enough peppers." His grin broadens as she mentions the hops, a wistful look crossing his face. "Ahhhhh, hops."

“At least whomever planted the hops knew a thing or two about growing it,” Jazene muses aloud, “that little stream that runs through the field is perfect for sustaining the vines. They’re laden with cones now and probably need to come in over the next several sevens.” She’d figured that Tavil would reminisce about the Hops fields. “Most certainly get word to the Assistant Headwoman so she can get the kitchens ready to process the lot of it.” She shifts toward the stairs and sits herself down on the submerged steps. “I sure hope we have enough help and time to get it all done before it rots in the fields where it grew.”

Tavil chuckles softly, moving over to sit near her, his presence making her seem even tinier than normal. "That they did. I'm sure we'll find that we have all the help we need. No one here relishes the thought of going through the winter hungry, love." He looks over at the field hands and catches the eyes of one. "Chufak, when you're done, can you go to Nora's office, and get me an appointment with her as soon as possible?" The man nods, and Tavil turns back to Jazene. "That'll get that taken care of, I do believe," he says with a grin.

Jazene hardly notices how small she looks sitting there next to him. It’s be a factor she’s had her whole life to adjust to. But folks around them do a double take on occasion. “I would certainly hope not. But one can hardly tell around here. Everyone seems to be busy with something or other ‘round here. It’s a wonder if any of it actually gets done.” She falls quiet while he speaks with the field hand, turning to smile up at him when he’s through. “Good. If we’re going to bring in some of the harvest tomorrow it would hardly do to surprise folks about it.” She’s all too aware it takes a little prep work to ready the kitchen for canning supplies as well as feeding the population here abouts.

Tavil shakes his head, still grinning. "I know what you mean. I'm amazed that things are in as good a shape here as they are, the way folks seem to run around." He bumps lightly into her shoulder, leaning back and relaxing against the wall. "Yeah, I don't want the cook mad at me. You've seen the knives that little bastard has?!" he asks, jokingly. "We'll get things taken care of, I'm sure. It's not like this is the first harvest that they've had down here. I'm sure someone's got plans somewhere."

Jazene chuckles softly and nods her head, “It’s certainly something to watch some days isn’t it?” Folks always coming and going on as many tasks as there are variety of people. She looks over at him when he bumps her shoulder. “The cook is a man? I thought for certain it was a woman.” She says ‘it’ as though uncertain how to address the person in question. “I swear I saw a dress on the person giving the orders one day.” Don’t necessarily mean it wasn’t a man wearing it though and that thought gives her pause. Such things simply weren’t done back home after all. “I reckon you’re right about that. This place has been open a few Turns now. I’m sure someone somewhere knows harvest is due.”

Tavil snerks, shrugging. "I dunno. The guy introduced himself as the cook, as opposed to a cook. Could've just been a case of the ego. It was definitely a guy, though, pants and Adam's apple and all that." He shrugs at the rest of her wonderings, chuckling. "Eh, who knows? As long as the food's cooked and tasty, and doesn't make us sick, I couldn't care less who's in charge nor what they wear." He sighs a little, leaning back and stretching. "I hate to do this, love, but I think it's about time to be getting back. Gotta let the mutts out."

Jazene listens to Tavil’s explanation and can only “huh” in the midst of her thoughts. After a few moments she gathers her wits about her and shrugs her shoulders. “I suppose that you’re right about that. It’s just.. can you /imagine/ the look on the men’s faces back home if they came down and found a man in a dress serving up the food?!” She laughs at the thought and shakes her head, “Perhaps he lost a bet of some sort.” That’s possible too around here. “You’re right. We really should get back.. but I truly don’t want to get dressed. The water is so cool and refreshing.” Still with a sigh she pushes to her feet and trudges up the steps to the towels.

Tavil chuckles at the question, grinning. "I'm more imagining the women, trying to figure out where he got the dress, or which one of them he stole it from." He stands up shortly after her and climbs the stairs, resisting the urge give her a slap on the rear, and grabs a towel for himself, drying off before going for his leather bag and pulling out some clothes for the both of them, setting hers on a nearby bench and starting to get into his. "We'll be back here tomorrow, and I doubt it'll be much longer before we're using the warmer pools," he says with a chuckle as he dresses, donning tan colored pants and a crisp white shirt before settling down on a bench to pull on socks on his boots.

Jazene’s laughter rings through the chamber and lets everyone know that Tavil has said something clever. “I hadn’t thought of that,” she admits while drying off. She watches him climb the stairs and turns to perch on the bench until he produces their clothes. “They’d likely refuse wash day. Don’t you think? Convinced that the crazies down here would make off with their fine dresses?” After all one doesn’t visit the Weyr wearing less than their finest garb. When he sets clothes on the bench she snatches hers and starts wiggling into various pieces of fabric. “I can’t imagine ever needing a hot pool around here.” Not with the heat she’s experienced lately. “Surely the warmth of summer is enough to keep folks hot all year long.” Once she’s dressed she sits back down and slips on her sandals.

Tavil finishes lacing up his boots and pulls the hem of his pants down over top of them, snerking at her observation. "Wouldn't that be a sight to see? I can see the look on your ma's face if she caught some man wearing one of her dresses…" He dissolves into laughter, shaking his head. "Oh, shards, that'd be a mess." Grinning still, he stands, and once she's done with her sandals, offers her his hand. "Shall we, my lady?" he asks, giving her a more-then-decent bow.

“She’d likely hit him over the head with a garden spade,” Jazene remarks with open amusement. It would in fact be quite a scene of that she has no doubt. She looks over at Tavil and enjoys just watching him laugh for a moment. Fingers going still on the strap of her sandal. When he moves to stand though she quickly finishes up. Just in time for his hand to appear in front of her, resulting in her looking up at him curiously. The bow earns him a quirky smile and soft giggle. “Please lets,” she chimes and slips her hand into his as she rises to her feet.

Tavil takes her hand with a grin, and heads for the exit, towards their rooms and the waiting canines. Turning to look over his shoulder at the field hands, he waves with his free hand. "I'll be out there tomorrow, folks, so you all'd better be on time!" he calls, his tone light with mirth as he and Jazzy head out.

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