Arialla found it almost impossible to move; heavy weights seemed to crush
her. She struggled to move her immobile legs, first left, then right.
Nothing helped. She felt like screaming. Arialla felt like screaming a
lot these days. If she screamed, they would come to help her. She knew
that now, and yet she could not muster the courage to utter even a single
cry.
"Ari. What are you doing?" A masculine voice asked from somewhere behind her. Arialla turned her head to see Mero laughing at his overzealous helper struggling to remain standing under the weight of not one, but three enormous bags of flour. "I know I asked you to get three bags of flour, but I didn't mean all at once."
He deftly removed two of the three bags from Arialla's fast-slipping grip, continuing to laugh. Arialla sighed with relief as she was able to move with again with relative freedom. "I know, Mero. But I just wanted to get it up faster so I have more time to work on the pastries."
She watched as Mero shook his head, and turned to walk up the stairs she had been working her way toward. Arialla was always surprised to see how physically strong such a gentle and compassionate man was. Not that she should have been really, a lot of the work in the kitchen took a lot of strength, and Mero wasn't exactly a small man. He turned as he reached the top of the stairs and called to ask Arialla if she was following him. His face was still plastered with an amused grin, but at least he had stopped laughing at her, she thought.
"You really do love working on pastries don't you?" Asked Mero, as Arialla joined him at the top of the staircase minutes later.
Arialla nodded in ascent. Ever since the incident months ago, she had been assigned to work in Mero's kitchen, helping to prepare the meals that Heralds and Heraldic trainees enjoyed daily. At first, she had been a shy, almost scared, helper. But the boisterous nature of the heraldic trainees serving alongside her, and Mero's constant kindness had put her at relative ease. Only relative though. The memories of her attack and the massacre at the tavern had returned to her as her mind and body healed. She was at peace in the kitchen, her kitchen, but everywhere else still made her jumpy. Actually, people in general made her uneasy.
"Hmm. . . You know, with all the new trainees that have been requesting kitchen duty, there's no reason for you to have to help me with the main courses," mused Mero. Arialla caught a slyly amused look glimmer in his eyes. She didn't even suspect, but Mero certainly knew the reason for the surfeit of kitchen volunteers. The Heraldic population had always been predominantly male, and while the current female trainee population was pretty, none of them could compete with Mero's stunning new cook. "Why don't you work on pastries full time? The Heralds will certainly appreciate a constant stream of delectable desserts from your hands."
The glowing look that Arialla bestowed on him was all the answer Mero needed. She couldn't wait to tell Sen.
"Ari. What are you doing?" A masculine voice asked from somewhere behind her. Arialla turned her head to see Mero laughing at his overzealous helper struggling to remain standing under the weight of not one, but three enormous bags of flour. "I know I asked you to get three bags of flour, but I didn't mean all at once."
He deftly removed two of the three bags from Arialla's fast-slipping grip, continuing to laugh. Arialla sighed with relief as she was able to move with again with relative freedom. "I know, Mero. But I just wanted to get it up faster so I have more time to work on the pastries."
She watched as Mero shook his head, and turned to walk up the stairs she had been working her way toward. Arialla was always surprised to see how physically strong such a gentle and compassionate man was. Not that she should have been really, a lot of the work in the kitchen took a lot of strength, and Mero wasn't exactly a small man. He turned as he reached the top of the stairs and called to ask Arialla if she was following him. His face was still plastered with an amused grin, but at least he had stopped laughing at her, she thought.
"You really do love working on pastries don't you?" Asked Mero, as Arialla joined him at the top of the staircase minutes later.
Arialla nodded in ascent. Ever since the incident months ago, she had been assigned to work in Mero's kitchen, helping to prepare the meals that Heralds and Heraldic trainees enjoyed daily. At first, she had been a shy, almost scared, helper. But the boisterous nature of the heraldic trainees serving alongside her, and Mero's constant kindness had put her at relative ease. Only relative though. The memories of her attack and the massacre at the tavern had returned to her as her mind and body healed. She was at peace in the kitchen, her kitchen, but everywhere else still made her jumpy. Actually, people in general made her uneasy.
"Hmm. . . You know, with all the new trainees that have been requesting kitchen duty, there's no reason for you to have to help me with the main courses," mused Mero. Arialla caught a slyly amused look glimmer in his eyes. She didn't even suspect, but Mero certainly knew the reason for the surfeit of kitchen volunteers. The Heraldic population had always been predominantly male, and while the current female trainee population was pretty, none of them could compete with Mero's stunning new cook. "Why don't you work on pastries full time? The Heralds will certainly appreciate a constant stream of delectable desserts from your hands."
The glowing look that Arialla bestowed on him was all the answer Mero needed. She couldn't wait to tell Sen.