Appreciating Lhing

Writers: Jane
Date Posted: 2nd August 2014

Characters: Solynt, Quarrel, Quier, Lynta, Iresdu, Lhing
Description: Solynt and his family enjoy their regular get-together.
Location: Harper Hall
Date: month 8, day 6 of Turn 7

Lhing, as usual, was the last to arrive and the first to leave.

The short, stocky red-head boy burst into the master printer's room without even
the most cursory of knocks and grinned at the gathered printers who ranged from
master through to junior journeyman. "Am I too late for the food?"

Iresdu, the youngest of the group obligingly handed over a plate. "We saved you
some."

"Super!"

While the boy settled himself on the end of the bed the master printer eyed the
thirteen-Turn-old. There were no signs yet that the boy was growing _upward_
despite the amount of food he put away. This gathering was a once-a-sevenday
chance to catch up as a family but for Lhing it was an opportunity for an extra
meal and Quarrel wasn't at all sure that his grandson would remember to attend
if they stopped providing food.

"Iresdu was just the same at that age," Quier pointed out, guessing at his
father's thoughts.

"I was _not_," the young journeyman protested. "I was much ... narrower."

"Ha ha," Lhing mumbled, stuffing another small pastry in his mouth. "I'm
preparing for a growth spurt."

Despite the laughter Quier suspected it might be true. Lhing's mother was the
same wiry shape as the rest of them - slim, she preferred to call it - but her
husband was very tall and sturdy. Certainly not fat, just exceedingly solidly
built. If their son was heading for that body shape - and size - then he
probably did need to keep up his eating. His father's ability to put away food
was something of a joke among his wife's family.

Or the boy could just be a greedy little dragon.

"That was _great_!" Lhing said, getting to his feet and dusting some crumbs off
his tunic and onto the floor. He handed the plate back to Iresdu and smiled at
everybody. "Thanks grandfather - you're looking well. Nice to see you uncles
and aunty Lynta. Got to go."

And he was gone.

"Wretched boy," Quarrel grumbled though there was no real rancour in his tone.

Solynt couldn't help but laugh at his father's expression. "You think we'd be
used to it by now."

"Embarrassing to have him as my only grandson at the Hall."

"And so recognisably one of the family," Lynta pointed out from the security of
having black hair rather than the dark red all of the others bore in slightly
varying shades depending on their age. "Is there any klah left?"

Solynt touched the side of the heavy pitcher as he lifted it with his other
hand. "Yes, if you like it cool. Or there's still plenty of wine."

"Ugh. Neither, thank you. I'm in charge of the last chore section tonight and
I won't stay awake for it if I start on the wine."

He grinned, stroking the bright knots at his shoulder. "Oh, the advantages of
being a _senior_ journeyman."

Lynta and Iresdu both protested, Iresdu sending a pillow flying across the room
toward where Solynt was perched on the end of his father's desk.

In deflecting the pillow the newly promoted senior journeyman managed to direct
its travel instead onto the pitcher of klah and even his snatching the pillow up
was too late to prevent the pitcher tipping over. The lovely round-bottomed,
narrow necked shape of the vessel enabled the cool klah to flow out in a wave
that connected with Solynt's trousers.

"Argh!" He leapt up, pillow still in hand while Quier edged out of his seat
seeing the likelihood of the wave turning into a waterfall off the edge of the
desk in the very near future.

With great presence of mind the eldest of Quarrel's sons picked up the wineskin
in one hand for safe-keeping and in the other he took up the largest of the
books from the desk.

"Help, help!"

Lynta had already got to her feet before Solynt's urgent pleas but there really
wasn't much room by the desk with two of her tall, gangly brothers in the way.
Solynt still had the pillow in one hand and was desperately pushing papers
across the desk out of the reach of the klah-tide and Quier seemed to have his
hands full.

"If you'd stayed sitting there it couldn't have spread like this," she pointed
out. "Quier - do put the something down and get a towel from the bathingroom."

"If I'd stayed sitting there my trousers would have got wet."

"Wetter!" Iresdu said amid his laughter and received a sound thwack with the
pillow as instant retribution.

"It was _all_ your fault," Solynt growled. "Get up and help instead of laying
about laughing."

"Towel!" Quier called, lobbing the named item over the heads of his siblings and
onto the desk. "Wine?" he asked his father as he retreated to the other end of
the room where the master printer was settled in the deep armchair.

With a sigh Quarrel held out his glass, his eyes not leaving the disaster at the
other end of the room. "Make it a large one."

Quier obliged and then leaned against the wall, watching the three
journey-ranked printers chaotically trying to deal with the mess. It seemed
unlikely they would have much success since they were squabbling like wherries
about what they should (or should not) have done.

"Really makes you appreciate Lhing, doesn't it?"

Quarrel huffed with amusement. "Lhing? Wonderful lad. Proud to be his
grandfather. Not at all sure about being proud to be a father to this lot right
at the moment."
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Last updated on the September 7th 2014

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Appreciating Lhing