The Grey Tower

Steam rising from the large copper pots of boiling water drew little dots of sweat on Andraste's forehead as she used a long, heavy wooden stick to stir the fabric within.

It was her turn at laundering duty, which was a whole new experience for her. She had been raised in a wealthy merchant house, and so had servants to handle this task. Not that she was as removed from it as the nobles might be, she had many a chore that she'd not needed to tend on until adulthood. Then in adulthood, laundry on the road was a different thing from a whole Tower's worth of clothing...

The sleeves of her white Novice dress were rolled up as she tried not to melt into the pot she stirred.

Andra wasn't the only person working in the laundry room that day, and she saw two other Novices and one Soldier who had also pulled the short straw for the day to end up in the humid pit of laundering. She paused a moment to look around and at least feel not so abandoned to the task, not that she knew who any of them were.

Turning back to the pot, she checked and determined that this batch of Novice dresses was ready to come out and onto the table to cool off and be hung. She shifted the wooden stirrer to pull some out, but found more than she could handle. "Could you give me a hand?" she asked the Soldier standing nearest her as she held the stick half-suspended on the edge of the pot without able to make it the rest of the way.

Jaren

After a recent experience with a particularly petulant fellow Novice who seemed even haughtier than Andra was accused of being on occasion, she was grateful for the Soldier's so readily agreeing to assist her. With his extra strength, they were able to pull the hunk of sodden, steaming grey-with-wet fabric over the edge of the cauldron and onto the table.

When it was done, she blew out a breath as she used the thick wooden stick to spread out the fabric as best she could so that the heat could escape and she would eventually be able to continue work on it.

“Do you always try to bite off more than you can chew?”

His words caught her quite off guard and she turned to look at him. At first her face was blank, just dark eyes widened slightly with brows raised, blinking. Then she laughed. She couldn't remember when last she had laughed, but the sound just pealed from her lips. It was a pure, natural sound without guile or falsehood.

Belenus had often asked her just that question, or some variant of it, all the time. She had a habit of thinking there was nothing beyond her reach, and even the lifestyle she had so loved... Well, between Belenus and Chandra, she was often asked that same thing and even wondered it on occasion. And the question was so surprising, hearkening to such good memories, the mirth broke free.

Then it died off...and sorrow supplanted it. But she forced it down and the laughing was quiet again. She pressed her lips together and looked back to her task, poking needlessly at the already spread dresses. "Actually, yes," she said. "I've been in the habit of it a time or two."

Jaren

Andra felt relief wash through her that he hadn't pressed the change of temperament he just had to have noticed, or maybe he really was that dense...either way, he didn't ask the questions she didn't feel up to answering and she was grateful for that. She poked a little more at the laundry until he introduced himself.

She turned her head enough to meet his eyes, rather lighter than hers--as was most of him, and smiled. It was small and polite, but it was not insincere in its emotion.

"I have not been here long, no," she confirmed for him. He was a bit pretty, she thought. It was not a thought in terms of attraction or being attracted, of course. That part of her was silenced, if not dead altogether, now. But one couldn't help but notice the looks of a person when you were looking right at them.

"Pleased to meet you, Jaren. Thank you for your help. I'm Andraste. And I'm..." The smile flickered again with a soft laugh. "And I'm not used to doing so much laundry."

Jaren

Just like Jaren, Andraste made sure to look busy about her task when the Accepted passed by. She tested the clothing to see if it was cool enough to touch, but it wasn't. She pointedly ignored the Accepted--a petulant little thing called Lyas. Although she hadn't asked, she was almost positive that the Accepted was younger than her but she still had to be deferential.

It rankled Andraste to no end. That knot of anger that lived in her chest throbbed at it, but she ignored it. Because what could she do? She was here. She could run away...but that wasn't her way. And if she ran, then how would she learn all she needed to learn?

After what had happened, there were things she needed to know. She needed to be able to make sure such things never happened again, and make the most of turning the tables on those...sorts. Those were thoughts for another day, however, because in the here and now, there was just a big steaming pile of laundry to tend.

When the coast was clear, she turned back to Jaren. "I imagine they just tell us it's character-building so they have their justifiable reason to force us to it," she commented, keeping her voice level but not too loud. No need to attract attention. "Frankly, I'd rather they leave the construction of my character to me."

Jaren

Spoiler: show

Not getting meta there at all, with blanking out on anything more interesting to talk about... xD

"Life at the Tower..." she said thoughtfully, using the back of her hand to brush sweat off her forehead and nudge errant, sticky strands of black hair away from her skin and back with the rest of its dark compatriots. "It's different," she finally said with a faint laugh. "It's a lot different than what I'm used to, at least."

She paused, contemplating just how much she wanted to talk about the past. It would be pretty difficult, though, since people didn't have much besides the past and the present to speak of when they first met.

"I was a merchant, traveled a lot," she said. "So having to remain stationary and here all the time..." She blew out a breath, touching the laundry again. It was still hot, but enough that she could spread it out further. Once easier to handle, they would be wrung out and hung up to dry. Weren't quite there yet.

"I have done a few channeling lessons, but they are pretty cautious in that," she said. The element of the past where she had channeled before ever reaching the Tower was part she planned to keep out. "And, what of you? How do you like life here? Laundry aside." She laughed softly, wryly.

Jaren