Beyond Dinner
Aug. 8th, 2008 01:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
measured_wordsToday's writing challenge was as follows: Take your characters to dinner. Pick one, or two, or more characters you have written in the past. Sit them at a table in a restaurant and see what happens.
I revisited my characters from Looking Beyond, because I've always wanted to do something else with them and this seemed a good way to test out some ideas. I'd eventually like to develop this in to something longer, but it isn't on my priority list at the moment.
Beyond Dinner
Carrow had arrived early, and looked over the menu for a third time, questioning, also for a third time, his decision to agree to this. Everything here was too rich for his system, and he was too plainly dressed to merit any real concessions from the wait staff, and consequently the kitchen. He sighed, considering the consequences of simply indulging for just one night.
“I’m sorry – I hope you weren’t waiting long!”
Amala looked radiant – she might deny how quickly she was settling in to city life, but she’d eased gracefully in to their styles and society. It was sometimes hard not to see her as blessed –a golden child, kissed by chance. But it wasn’t true, no matter how easy everything seemed to come to her. Perhaps her real blessing was her adaptability, and her ability to recover from her hardships.
“No, not long.” He started to smile, but the waiter appeared as though by magic as soon as she’d seated herself. She was as plainly dressed as he, but the wreath of tiny blue and white flowers woven in to her blonde braids turned her simplicity into elegance.
“Would madame care for some wine?”
She glanced his way, and he nodded. He wondered how it must seem to an outsider, someone who didn’t understand the nature of their relationship. It wasn’t permission he gave her, just encouragement. Yes, that’s fine, if you like, go ahead. She just didn’t know.
“Please… Though perhaps you have a recommendation?’
“Does madame prefer white or red?”
“Red.” Barely any hesitation. Quality wine was true luxury in the villages, and he doubted she really knew what she liked. Still, she pressed forward with apparent confidence, ordering a mid-range sweet wine from the house list. Half a carafe only. Carrow stuck with water. They were left alone to consider their menus.
“That was nerve wracking, wasn’t it? So many questions! Still, thank you again for coming out with me. I couldn’t imagine coming to a place like this alone.”
“It’s my pleasure.” A half-truth. He was glad to see her again, to have a chance to speak at length, to get out of his own routine. Only now that he was here, he was remember why he’d fallen in to the comforting familiarity. He’d embraced the anonymity the city offered n his daily life, but could never shake the feeling that he only lived on the edges of things. The feeling was always stronger when confronted with unfamiliar settings and situations.
“What should I get? Meat to go with the wine, is that how it works?”
“The lamb sounds interesting…”
“What are you going to have?” She flipped through the menu. “Can you have *any* of this? Oh, I’m sorry Carrow, I didn’t realize it would all be so heavy…” Her brown furrowed in honest concern.
“I’ll be fine.” He hoped his tone didn’t sound too clipped. She meant well, it was just instinct for him.
“Alright. I’ll try the lamb, anyway.” She smiled, closing her menu and setting her menu down. Carrow followed suite, completing the table ritual to summon their waiter. He appeared, hands folded around a pristine white napkin, smiling thinly and gazing blandly down at the pair as he presented Amala with her carafe of wine, pouring half a glass. Carrow declined to sample, but she nodded her approval at its sweetness after a taste.
“Are you ready to order?”
“Yes, thank you. I’ll have the stuffed snapper, with the salad, no dressing, and the lady will have the lamb and compote.”
“Thank you!” Amala chirped as the man nodded and rewarded her with another slight curling upward of his lip, this time seeming more sincere. And then they were alone at their table. Carrow relaxed a little.
“So, how is your placement with Master Saylash going?”
“It… Well it’s a little awkward, truth be told.” Amala shifted a little in her chair.
Carrow smiled sympathetically, cursing his luck as well as hers. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s not really so bad. I mean, she knows a lot, though she clearly doesn’t have a lot of experience working with a wild mage. She expects me to follow everything just like her normal apprentices. But that, well I expected that. I can work on it. It’s just a learning curve for everyone, and the others have been very helpful.” As she spoke, Amala lifted a finger to the sad looking rose that decorated the clean white vase on their table, and nudged it a little. It seemed to perk up, drawing life from her gentle touch, and bloomed its scent more strongly into the close air of the restaurant. Her control was apparently increasing.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“It just, well… She keeps *looking* at me, you know? And she’s always, well, very kind. Extra kind.”
Carrow blinked, realizing she was blushing. “I’m sorry…” he said. Perhaps she was just unused to the attention?
She laughed nervously. “If she were a man, I would know what she wanted. I’m just…. It’s awkward. The other apprentices won’t talk to me about it, either.”
“I, well, the guild, I’m sure, could do… you could talk to them.” Now he could feel the flush spreading through his own cheeks. Amala politely fixed her attention elsewhere, leaning forward to inhale the scent of the rose centerpiece.
“No, they’ve already done so much for me, and I’ve given them so little in return… It will be alright. Like I said, it’s just awkward. How are things at the orphanage? How’s Lola?”
“Lola is as independent as ever.” He didn’t add jealous – last time he’d seen Amala, the cat had disappeared for three days. “And the orphanage…things are going well at the moment. I think we’ve finally raised enough in donations to begin restoration work on the west wing. The extra space will be a relief.”
“That is good news. Do you think you’ll get your office back?”
“Maybe not the same one, but it will be nice to have my own space again.” He smiled. It would be nice – he cared for the children, certainly, but always found it easier to do with a bit more distance. The priests and other volunteers were better suited to dealing with their immediate needs.
“I’m glad for you, and the children. I know how much you’ve worked for this.”
“Thank you.”
“I have my own good news too! Just so you don’t worry about my new master.”
“What’s that?”
“My mother is coming to visit me!”
There was no chance for immediate elaboration, however, as their server returned, presenting Amala with her lamb dish first, artfully arranged with a sprig of some technically edible greenery. Carrow’s fish was likewise decoratively presented, the crisp salad on a side plate. He was surprised they hadn’t served it first – he thought it was the custom – but perhaps it was considered rude to make a lady wait for her food? He didn’t dine out enough to really know. The waiter disappeared before his presence could really be acknowleged, and both parties smiled at each other to acknowledge the break in conversation as each explored their dinner.
The lettuce would be fine. He could handle other raw vegetables in moderation, as well. The fish was more of a risk. The filling would likely be too rich, but the flesh itself should be fine. Glancing quickly around to reassure himself that no one else in the room was staring at him, he quickly poured a small dose of his toinc in to his water glass. Amala, familiar with his condition, made no comment at the slightly sulfurous smell. He drained the glass quickly, grateful for the powerful perfume of the table rose. It seemed safer to tackle the salad first, in any case.
“So, when are you expecting her?” he asked, waiting until she was between bites.
“Soon. She said early spring in her last letter.”
“Really?”
“Yes, I’m so excited! It will be good to see someone… Well, someone *else* from home. I’ve missed her dearly, you know. I just wish I could see the others. Maybe next year I can go back for a visit.”
Carrow, nodded, wondering what it was in his nature that always made him expect to the worst. Of course, it wasn’t hard to answer, as the ugly past always haunted the dark corners of his mind. Maybe that’s all it was, his own anxieties seeking to poison everything pleasant. He liked Amala, and was glad of her occasional company, but he couldn’t deny that in her presence his pessimistic paranoias held greater power. It was a problem he was actively seeking to resolve. He tried a small bite of the fish as a distraction as she rattled on about the letters she’d been exchanging with family.
“I haven’t said a lot about you, not since the first letter. But she never said anything about *that*, anyway. Still I think it will be good for you, won’t it? She has very good standing in the community, of course. You’ve changed so much from how people think of you, and it really just isn’t fair…”
He shook his head, wondering how she could continue to be so naïve. He had no desire to return to the villages. If he was an outsider in the city, then so be it. Better than an outcast. He wished he had more water. The overpowering taste of garlic lingered in his mouth, and he felt a little queasy. Carrow set down his utensils.
“Spring is a bad time for travel, Amala. It’s the wet season – that’s when people leave the city. There’s already whispers of plague.”
“Master Saylash is a healer. She assures me that her home will be safe.”
“She has to make it here first.” Has he swallowed a whole clove by accident? It was all he could smell now. He pushed the plate a palm’s length away.
“Don’t be so negative, Carrow. She’s very healthy, she’ll be fine. I know you’re concerned, but it will be alright. You don’t have to see her if you’d rather not. I just though… Are you alright?”
He nodded.
“You’re turning all pale. Carrow, don’t lie. If you need to leave, we can go, its fine.”
He rested an arm across his lap so that she couldn’t see how white his knuckles turned as he dug his fingers in to his leg. It was a little distracting. He could feel the sweat on his brow, and under his arms, but at this point there wasn’t anything he could do. He should have known better, tonic or not, than to push himself too far. “Finish your dinner, please.” There should be enough time before the twisting in his guts turned more violent, and messy. One bite!
She nodded, but the furrow between her eyebrows belied her continued concern. Hesitantly, she took another bite of lamb. Carrow tries to force his grimace into the semblance of a smile. She hailed the waiter.
“Tell me more about your magic,” he asked as the man approached.
She ignored him, asking instead for some water ‘for her companion’. The server acquiesced with a nod, taking away Carrow’s barely touched plate with an affronted look.
Amala chattered on then. It was good to listen to her, and she seemed to take heart from his terse prompts and clipped questions. Still, by the time she finished her entrée it was clear they shouldn’t linger. Carrow calculated the bill in his head, relying on his instincts with numbers, but overestimating the tip to be on the safe side. They left the money o the table rather than waiting for the bill. She hired them a carriage, taking him directly to his small apartment.
By the time they arrived, it was taking all his concentration to maintain control of his body. He barely wished her goodnight, and barely heard her promise to check in on him in the next day or so. She never said anything about the smell, but it couldn’t be all in his head. The driver was far too pleased to see him gone. Had she wrinkled her nose? Was he imagining the look on her face?
Carrow forced himself quickly up the stairs and collapsed in the bathroom, sick as much from shame as pain.
I revisited my characters from Looking Beyond, because I've always wanted to do something else with them and this seemed a good way to test out some ideas. I'd eventually like to develop this in to something longer, but it isn't on my priority list at the moment.
Beyond Dinner
Carrow had arrived early, and looked over the menu for a third time, questioning, also for a third time, his decision to agree to this. Everything here was too rich for his system, and he was too plainly dressed to merit any real concessions from the wait staff, and consequently the kitchen. He sighed, considering the consequences of simply indulging for just one night.
“I’m sorry – I hope you weren’t waiting long!”
Amala looked radiant – she might deny how quickly she was settling in to city life, but she’d eased gracefully in to their styles and society. It was sometimes hard not to see her as blessed –a golden child, kissed by chance. But it wasn’t true, no matter how easy everything seemed to come to her. Perhaps her real blessing was her adaptability, and her ability to recover from her hardships.
“No, not long.” He started to smile, but the waiter appeared as though by magic as soon as she’d seated herself. She was as plainly dressed as he, but the wreath of tiny blue and white flowers woven in to her blonde braids turned her simplicity into elegance.
“Would madame care for some wine?”
She glanced his way, and he nodded. He wondered how it must seem to an outsider, someone who didn’t understand the nature of their relationship. It wasn’t permission he gave her, just encouragement. Yes, that’s fine, if you like, go ahead. She just didn’t know.
“Please… Though perhaps you have a recommendation?’
“Does madame prefer white or red?”
“Red.” Barely any hesitation. Quality wine was true luxury in the villages, and he doubted she really knew what she liked. Still, she pressed forward with apparent confidence, ordering a mid-range sweet wine from the house list. Half a carafe only. Carrow stuck with water. They were left alone to consider their menus.
“That was nerve wracking, wasn’t it? So many questions! Still, thank you again for coming out with me. I couldn’t imagine coming to a place like this alone.”
“It’s my pleasure.” A half-truth. He was glad to see her again, to have a chance to speak at length, to get out of his own routine. Only now that he was here, he was remember why he’d fallen in to the comforting familiarity. He’d embraced the anonymity the city offered n his daily life, but could never shake the feeling that he only lived on the edges of things. The feeling was always stronger when confronted with unfamiliar settings and situations.
“What should I get? Meat to go with the wine, is that how it works?”
“The lamb sounds interesting…”
“What are you going to have?” She flipped through the menu. “Can you have *any* of this? Oh, I’m sorry Carrow, I didn’t realize it would all be so heavy…” Her brown furrowed in honest concern.
“I’ll be fine.” He hoped his tone didn’t sound too clipped. She meant well, it was just instinct for him.
“Alright. I’ll try the lamb, anyway.” She smiled, closing her menu and setting her menu down. Carrow followed suite, completing the table ritual to summon their waiter. He appeared, hands folded around a pristine white napkin, smiling thinly and gazing blandly down at the pair as he presented Amala with her carafe of wine, pouring half a glass. Carrow declined to sample, but she nodded her approval at its sweetness after a taste.
“Are you ready to order?”
“Yes, thank you. I’ll have the stuffed snapper, with the salad, no dressing, and the lady will have the lamb and compote.”
“Thank you!” Amala chirped as the man nodded and rewarded her with another slight curling upward of his lip, this time seeming more sincere. And then they were alone at their table. Carrow relaxed a little.
“So, how is your placement with Master Saylash going?”
“It… Well it’s a little awkward, truth be told.” Amala shifted a little in her chair.
Carrow smiled sympathetically, cursing his luck as well as hers. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s not really so bad. I mean, she knows a lot, though she clearly doesn’t have a lot of experience working with a wild mage. She expects me to follow everything just like her normal apprentices. But that, well I expected that. I can work on it. It’s just a learning curve for everyone, and the others have been very helpful.” As she spoke, Amala lifted a finger to the sad looking rose that decorated the clean white vase on their table, and nudged it a little. It seemed to perk up, drawing life from her gentle touch, and bloomed its scent more strongly into the close air of the restaurant. Her control was apparently increasing.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“It just, well… She keeps *looking* at me, you know? And she’s always, well, very kind. Extra kind.”
Carrow blinked, realizing she was blushing. “I’m sorry…” he said. Perhaps she was just unused to the attention?
She laughed nervously. “If she were a man, I would know what she wanted. I’m just…. It’s awkward. The other apprentices won’t talk to me about it, either.”
“I, well, the guild, I’m sure, could do… you could talk to them.” Now he could feel the flush spreading through his own cheeks. Amala politely fixed her attention elsewhere, leaning forward to inhale the scent of the rose centerpiece.
“No, they’ve already done so much for me, and I’ve given them so little in return… It will be alright. Like I said, it’s just awkward. How are things at the orphanage? How’s Lola?”
“Lola is as independent as ever.” He didn’t add jealous – last time he’d seen Amala, the cat had disappeared for three days. “And the orphanage…things are going well at the moment. I think we’ve finally raised enough in donations to begin restoration work on the west wing. The extra space will be a relief.”
“That is good news. Do you think you’ll get your office back?”
“Maybe not the same one, but it will be nice to have my own space again.” He smiled. It would be nice – he cared for the children, certainly, but always found it easier to do with a bit more distance. The priests and other volunteers were better suited to dealing with their immediate needs.
“I’m glad for you, and the children. I know how much you’ve worked for this.”
“Thank you.”
“I have my own good news too! Just so you don’t worry about my new master.”
“What’s that?”
“My mother is coming to visit me!”
There was no chance for immediate elaboration, however, as their server returned, presenting Amala with her lamb dish first, artfully arranged with a sprig of some technically edible greenery. Carrow’s fish was likewise decoratively presented, the crisp salad on a side plate. He was surprised they hadn’t served it first – he thought it was the custom – but perhaps it was considered rude to make a lady wait for her food? He didn’t dine out enough to really know. The waiter disappeared before his presence could really be acknowleged, and both parties smiled at each other to acknowledge the break in conversation as each explored their dinner.
The lettuce would be fine. He could handle other raw vegetables in moderation, as well. The fish was more of a risk. The filling would likely be too rich, but the flesh itself should be fine. Glancing quickly around to reassure himself that no one else in the room was staring at him, he quickly poured a small dose of his toinc in to his water glass. Amala, familiar with his condition, made no comment at the slightly sulfurous smell. He drained the glass quickly, grateful for the powerful perfume of the table rose. It seemed safer to tackle the salad first, in any case.
“So, when are you expecting her?” he asked, waiting until she was between bites.
“Soon. She said early spring in her last letter.”
“Really?”
“Yes, I’m so excited! It will be good to see someone… Well, someone *else* from home. I’ve missed her dearly, you know. I just wish I could see the others. Maybe next year I can go back for a visit.”
Carrow, nodded, wondering what it was in his nature that always made him expect to the worst. Of course, it wasn’t hard to answer, as the ugly past always haunted the dark corners of his mind. Maybe that’s all it was, his own anxieties seeking to poison everything pleasant. He liked Amala, and was glad of her occasional company, but he couldn’t deny that in her presence his pessimistic paranoias held greater power. It was a problem he was actively seeking to resolve. He tried a small bite of the fish as a distraction as she rattled on about the letters she’d been exchanging with family.
“I haven’t said a lot about you, not since the first letter. But she never said anything about *that*, anyway. Still I think it will be good for you, won’t it? She has very good standing in the community, of course. You’ve changed so much from how people think of you, and it really just isn’t fair…”
He shook his head, wondering how she could continue to be so naïve. He had no desire to return to the villages. If he was an outsider in the city, then so be it. Better than an outcast. He wished he had more water. The overpowering taste of garlic lingered in his mouth, and he felt a little queasy. Carrow set down his utensils.
“Spring is a bad time for travel, Amala. It’s the wet season – that’s when people leave the city. There’s already whispers of plague.”
“Master Saylash is a healer. She assures me that her home will be safe.”
“She has to make it here first.” Has he swallowed a whole clove by accident? It was all he could smell now. He pushed the plate a palm’s length away.
“Don’t be so negative, Carrow. She’s very healthy, she’ll be fine. I know you’re concerned, but it will be alright. You don’t have to see her if you’d rather not. I just though… Are you alright?”
He nodded.
“You’re turning all pale. Carrow, don’t lie. If you need to leave, we can go, its fine.”
He rested an arm across his lap so that she couldn’t see how white his knuckles turned as he dug his fingers in to his leg. It was a little distracting. He could feel the sweat on his brow, and under his arms, but at this point there wasn’t anything he could do. He should have known better, tonic or not, than to push himself too far. “Finish your dinner, please.” There should be enough time before the twisting in his guts turned more violent, and messy. One bite!
She nodded, but the furrow between her eyebrows belied her continued concern. Hesitantly, she took another bite of lamb. Carrow tries to force his grimace into the semblance of a smile. She hailed the waiter.
“Tell me more about your magic,” he asked as the man approached.
She ignored him, asking instead for some water ‘for her companion’. The server acquiesced with a nod, taking away Carrow’s barely touched plate with an affronted look.
Amala chattered on then. It was good to listen to her, and she seemed to take heart from his terse prompts and clipped questions. Still, by the time she finished her entrée it was clear they shouldn’t linger. Carrow calculated the bill in his head, relying on his instincts with numbers, but overestimating the tip to be on the safe side. They left the money o the table rather than waiting for the bill. She hired them a carriage, taking him directly to his small apartment.
By the time they arrived, it was taking all his concentration to maintain control of his body. He barely wished her goodnight, and barely heard her promise to check in on him in the next day or so. She never said anything about the smell, but it couldn’t be all in his head. The driver was far too pleased to see him gone. Had she wrinkled her nose? Was he imagining the look on her face?
Carrow forced himself quickly up the stairs and collapsed in the bathroom, sick as much from shame as pain.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-08-08 10:52 pm (UTC)It gave the impression of two old friends, and made very me intrigued by Carrow's nature. Obviously not human. You have a really nice way of adding just the right amount of detail I personally think without over doing it.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-08 11:33 pm (UTC)Thanks for the comments!
no subject
Date: 2008-08-09 12:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-09 01:21 pm (UTC)