Foot-In-Mouth

Writers: DL, Paula
Date Posted: 1st May 2011

Characters: Bryndon, Keayd
Description: An apprentice gets put in his place - but a chance to redeem himself.
Location: Vintner Hall
Date: month 1, day 22 of Turn 6
Notes: *mentor approved for Diya*

Bryndon shook his head in thought, and bit his lip to match it. It was
clear to any observer on the sunny afternoon day that he was concerned
about something - worried, even - and didn't realise that his feelings
showed plainly across his face. It wasn't even a moment of reprieve, but
studying a platter on which lay a half-dozen different types of grapes.
In front of each small bunch was tucked a piece of wood, burned with a
letter of the alphabet. To another Vintner, it was clear this was some
sort of test, or study session - to see if one could recall the types of
grapes, their traits, or differences between them.

He groaned a bit in frustration, tilting his head sideways at the
platter. "I give up. They're just _grapes_," he muttered, loud enough to
be overheard by anyone passing nearby.

"They are never just grapes. Use your eyes. I can't believe you're a
senior apprentice," Keayd said tartly. He was having one of those days.
His club-foot hurt and he limped more than normal, which made his back
ache too. He just didn't haver his normal patience with the apprentices.

"I wish they weren't," Bryndon grumbled, looking to Keayd. "I want to
move into distilling - especially playing with some of the fortifying of
wines, of all of that, but the fruit? … I can't always remember the
variations, especially when they're not on the vine, no leaves, a bit
dried…" He looked over again. "How did you find it easiest to remember
the differences?"

"You still have to know _what_ you're distilling. Grapes are the
foundation," Keayd said and picked up one. "Plump, very dark purple
colour, tiny little tip at the end, what should that tell you?"

Bryndon closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and looked at it
as if expecting it to either pop between, or suddenly "Red grape,
fruity, would come into a noble, full red."

Key nodded and picked up next one. "What would you make out of this one?
Ovoid shape, yellow colour, greenish on the top. If you taste it, you'll
find it rather sour."

"Would it be better for a mix?" Bryndon motioned the journeyman to sit,
uncomfortable with the disparity in height, and wanting to make sure
that there was no claims of his failure to respect seniority and status.
"Probably a longer-aging, wouldn't it be - neutral at least. Maybe...
better for, um, fortifying? Brandies?" His tone was hopeful, but the
look on his face showed he was fairly confident he'd put his foot in it.

Keyad shook a finger at him. "Dry, crisp white wines and sparkling
wines, And this one? Round, purple, strong sweet smell and if you taste
it, it's sweet, almost overripe taste."

"Probably giving someone a headache," Bryndon said with a wry smile.
"Truly, though - strong in sweetness, robust flavour. Good for a very
strong wine, since it can be fermented into a stronger level without
compromising flavour. Isn't this one that gets bunch-rot a lot?" He
looked up to the journeyman. "I think I saw some of that, with this
type. They're thin-skinned, right, and grow in the large, tight bunches
that make them susceptible to that."

"Excellent. See, you can do this, if you just stop whining and put your
mind into it," Key said.

Bryndon shook his head at the journeyman. "I can, but I won't be as good
as you - that's a fact, obvious as dragons in the sky, Journeyman Keayd!
We can only aspire to your heights." His words were serious, and he
looked solemnly to Keayd. "Truth, and don't you deny it. You're one of
the most skilled journeymen we've got, and what's easy for you isn't as
much for some of us dimglows."

Key watched him suspiciously, trying detect sarcasm from the apprentice
tone. He was too used to being mocked to receive praise without hint of
suspicion. "Fawning doesn't help you, hard work does," he scowled him.

Bryndon sighed, closing his eyes again and looking down at the table.
The thoughts were clearly running through his mind - Keayd a tough nut
to crack, all right. All he wanted was a bit of friendship with the more
experienced Vintner - with someone other than one of the other
apprentices that did nothing but dawdle... he shook his head slightly to
get the thoughts out of his head.

"Sorry I put my foot in my mouth, Journeyman," Bryndon said contritely.
"And you're right - hard work does. It's... why I'm trying to pick up
where I've... sort of been... sliding." He looked back over to Keayd.
"Any other tips for remembering things, or just sheer brute force?"

"What ever works best for you. I do use a memory trick, a little verses
I've made myself to help remember. Like 'round and purple and smell so
sweet, make port or sherry sweet," Keayd told and actually blushed a
bit. "They don't pay me for harpering," he added defensively.

"Knowing more of those might be useful," Bryndon said thoughtfully. "I
might have to see about coming up with a couple myself - and maybe
then," he bobbed his head subserviently towards the journeyman, "share
'em with the other apprentices, especially them as seem to have having
struggles. And _trying_," he added in quickly, "rather than just not
bothering at all. Maybe later, Journeyman, if you've got time..." he
trailed off. "I've already taken up a lot of your time, and I appreciate
it. I'm at your convenience any time you may require an apprentice's
assistance." That was a given, but Bryndon wanted to make sure that
Keayd understood that he _did_ appreciate what was said, and done.
Dealing with the journeyman was like trying to hug a needlethorn plant -
possible, but a very delicate matter.

"It's all right, it is my duty to guide you apprentices to the path of
rightfull toiling," Keayd replied with sudden quirky sense of humour.
"Since you expressed interest towards distilling, I do have little
project going on in the cellars, developing new tastes for brandies.
Another pair of hands could be useful," he offered almost tentatively.
It was his senior journeyman-project in fact, one that would take Turns
to complete. After all, best brandies required long aging time.

"Oh. Oh!" Bryndon's eyes widened, and he nodded profusely. "Oh, yes.
That... that would be... that would be very helpful," he said after a
few moments, clearing his throat and then straightening himself out of
the burst of enthusiasm. "At your service, journeyman. You can smack me
about the ears with a stout stick as often as needed to focus on the
rightful toiling so needed by the project - and yourself!"

Key chuckled. "You have no idea what for you just volunteered,
apprentice Bryndon," he warned with a smile on his lips.

Bryndon's face creased in a wide smile, and he looked from the grapes
back to Keayd, and back again. "When do you want to start?"

"How about next sevenday?," Keayd suggested, amused of his eagerness and
happy to have some help.

"With pleasure," Bryndon said. "I look forward to it."

Last updated on the May 5th 2011

Welcome to Triad Weyrs!

Foot-In-Mouth