Winter, Day 90 514 AV
Sewing was an escape. Especially when she could do so away from home, in the gentle quiet of the shop where Maybell was often her only company outside of other Drykas hoping to view the wares of the shop. It was a peace she sought especially today, for she had spoken to her family about her intent to travel with Shahar, and his pavilion to Riverfall. The outcry from her family was large and immediate.
So it was to the shop she departed, far and away from her family's upset. The dealings of a seamstress far more simple. Not that their response was unexpected, but it seemed unreasonable to forbid her to travel with her betrothed only because they were not yet bound by the mark of Cheva.
"Ouch." The word was an involuntary exclamation, escaping her lips as she pricked her finger with the needle. A sure sign of her distraction.
"Are you alright?" The words came form the woman who's dress she was repairing, she had decided to stay the few chimes that the task would take, and Rue had nearly forgotten her.
"Ah, yes. I am fine, thank you." She replied, without pause to inspect her finger. Finding the tip of a needle with her finger was a common occurrence still, though she did not often bleed now, whether from the building of a callous, or just a steadier hand.
She turned back to her work, finding her place in the line of hook stitches that pulled the edges of the cloth together. She was nearly done. One stitch, a second, and a final one, looping in the far corner with a hook perpendicular to the others. Followed by a simple knot, needle through the thread loops twice to make it secure, and a cut to detach the needle and the remaining string.
The tail of the thread stuck out at the ends, a small problem that would not be noticed once the garment was turned right-side-out. That was why one should always do repairs from the inside of the clothing.
"It's done." Rue told the woman with a smile, offering the righted dress to her. "If it is acceptable, then we are done, it will just be five silvers for the work."
The woman examined the stitches, her eye perhaps a better judge than most. "It is fine," The other Drykas told Rue, folding the dress carefully. "But the work is worth twice what you say."
Rue shook her head, Too kind she signed to the woman, "I am still new, my stitches not as neat. It is only five."
Sewing was an escape. Especially when she could do so away from home, in the gentle quiet of the shop where Maybell was often her only company outside of other Drykas hoping to view the wares of the shop. It was a peace she sought especially today, for she had spoken to her family about her intent to travel with Shahar, and his pavilion to Riverfall. The outcry from her family was large and immediate.
So it was to the shop she departed, far and away from her family's upset. The dealings of a seamstress far more simple. Not that their response was unexpected, but it seemed unreasonable to forbid her to travel with her betrothed only because they were not yet bound by the mark of Cheva.
"Ouch." The word was an involuntary exclamation, escaping her lips as she pricked her finger with the needle. A sure sign of her distraction.
"Are you alright?" The words came form the woman who's dress she was repairing, she had decided to stay the few chimes that the task would take, and Rue had nearly forgotten her.
"Ah, yes. I am fine, thank you." She replied, without pause to inspect her finger. Finding the tip of a needle with her finger was a common occurrence still, though she did not often bleed now, whether from the building of a callous, or just a steadier hand.
She turned back to her work, finding her place in the line of hook stitches that pulled the edges of the cloth together. She was nearly done. One stitch, a second, and a final one, looping in the far corner with a hook perpendicular to the others. Followed by a simple knot, needle through the thread loops twice to make it secure, and a cut to detach the needle and the remaining string.
The tail of the thread stuck out at the ends, a small problem that would not be noticed once the garment was turned right-side-out. That was why one should always do repairs from the inside of the clothing.
"It's done." Rue told the woman with a smile, offering the righted dress to her. "If it is acceptable, then we are done, it will just be five silvers for the work."
The woman examined the stitches, her eye perhaps a better judge than most. "It is fine," The other Drykas told Rue, folding the dress carefully. "But the work is worth twice what you say."
Rue shook her head, Too kind she signed to the woman, "I am still new, my stitches not as neat. It is only five."