Closed [Orphanage] Dinner With A Rat (Noven)

[Mirian Jade]

Thomas, at least, didn’t seem to mind Mirian’s rather quick reply, launching into a story of his own. Mirian arched an eyebrow when he mentioned his age, but her confusion was quickly alleviated by Noven’s brusque correction-turned-insult. Mirian didn’t smile, but she wanted to. Both Noven and Thomas had a peculiar feeling to them, one that seemed… genuine. Their words might have been harsh, but there was an honesty to them that Mirian actually felt a bit relieving. Like a breath of clear air after too long breathing dust and grit. In Sunberth, someone was only polite to you when you wanted something, and the jabs that Noven in particular seemed to be so fond of making were, for lack of a better term, honest. Something Mirian could understand. The lad seemed to have settled down, at least enough to finish his task, although he kept sneaking glances that Mirian pretended not to notice. When the last potato was skinned and quartered, she remained silently on her stool, waiting for Noven to finish the food as the unmistakable sounds of hungry children began to converge just outside of the room. “Alright, you two,” Noven said, bringing Mirian to attention. “Thomas, you carry the vegetables. Jade, the spuds. I’ll get the beans. Hopefully this will be done quick.” Mirian was moving before he’d finished his command, padding over to the potatoes and hoisting them up. Thomas moved to do as he’d been told, and Noven picked up the beans and led the three of them out of the kitchen and into the room beyond. There were more children there than Mirian had imagined, some boys, others girls, some large, others only just big enough to hold their plates. They grew silent the instant the procession of food came in, motionless as they eyed the three of them like wolves waiting for a fawn to come into just the right spot to pounce. The food was plopped down onto a serving table, Mirian was handed a spoon and given a heartbeat’s warning before Noven called out to the children. “Alright runts, line up!” To Mirian, he was just able to say “A spoonful for each and no more,” before the wave of hungry orphans hit them like a stampede. The children managed to organize themselves into something resembling a line, at least enough for Mirian to dole out potatoes in a somewhat orderly fashion. They came like cattle, pressing up against one another in eagerness so that if Mirian didn’t serve them fast enough, they might very well have been pushed straight past her. She did her best, scooping the potatoes onto their plates as quickly as she was able but only barely managing to keep up with the line. It turned out that cooking for orphans was much more difficult than she’d imagined. oocApologies for the lack of moving things forward; wasn’t quite sure what to do next other than just serve the orphans.

[Noven]

Aside from the occasional bark of angry directives to keep the chaos under control, dinner went rather smoothly. For once, Nov was relieved Jillene wasn't around for serving time, not knowing how she'd react to his spontaneous recruit.

The three of them slapped spoonful after spoonful of portions onto each battered plate until there were no more plates to be filled. He tried to get Thomas to sit amongst his fellow orphans, but the kid would have none of it. "Oi 'elped today, so Oi get ta eat wif the other workers. That's the deal."

By other workers, the cook knew Thomas meant Jade. Not wanting to waste the rest of the night--and his energy--arguing with the little weasel of a runt, eventually Nov relented on the condition that Thomas help wash the dishes after dinner. The boy agreed readily enough, to his surprise. Well, maybe there was a use for pubescent fixations after all.

Noven filled up a plate first for Jade, then himself, letting Thomas take care of his own. The two of them scraped every last morsel out of the pot and bowls before bringing their equipment back into the kitchens. The cook motioned for Jade to follow as he handed her a plate of food, picked up his own, and then hoisted the empty pot up with his free arm. Thomas stacked the remaining two bowls and scampered off ahead of them, likely eager to get rid of his burdens so he could continuing trying fruitlessly to make impressions on their guest.

Once inside, Nov set down the pot and pulled up two more stools. Then he placed a bucket upside down in the center and set a plate of old, stale bread on top. The cook lowered himself on a stool with a tired sigh and dragged over the mostly empty pot of beans.

"Eat up while it's hot," he grunted before digging into his hard earned meal.

Thomas did the same, wolfing down half his contents, then stopped abruptly to wipe his mouth with one sleeve and look anxiously up at Jade. "So, Miss Jade," he asked, no doubt thinking all the while he sounded a proper gentleman, "Wutcha think? Not half bad, I'd say. He's as ugly and mean as they come but this bloke here we call a cook at least dun' petch up spuds and beans."

Normally, Noven would have given the kid a good slap to the back of his head. But at the moment he was too busy prying a hunk of hard bread apart to sop up bean juice at the bottom of the pot. Waste not want not, as his betters always said.

Without warning, small taps could suddenly be heard against the window panes. It was starting to rain outside, lightly at first, but sure to grow in time. The cook wondered briefly if that meant 'Miss Jade' would have to stick around longer than anticipated, but he figured if she was stuck in here, then so would that man who'd been chasing her somewhere else. Besides, there was still food to be eaten. Nov had attention for little else.

[Mirian Jade]

When the last plate had been filled and the last orphan scampered off, Mirian could finally sag against the serving table to catch her breath. She scanned the room of children as they clattered and chomped and generally made more noise than Mirian had ever thought possible, but at least they were directing their considerable energies towards each other now and not at her.

She heard the exchange between Noven and Thomas, allowing herself to crack a smile at Thomas’ insistence; she’d been the subject of puppy crushes before––at least, that was what she hoped this was––although she felt a bit guilty at being the cause of more arguments directed at Noven.

Or maybe not, since the lad agreed to help wash up.

The scraping of wood on metal alerted her to what they were doing with the rest of the food, although she was still greatly surprised when a plate was handed to her. Mirian blinked at Noven, taking it gingerly, as if she were afraid of shattering it.

“Oh, I, uh… thanks.”

Noven picked up one of the serving bowls, and though Mirian moved to take the one that had housed the potatoes it was Thomas that beat her to it, snatching up both his and hers and dashing off to the kitchens.

“Quite lively, ain’t he?” Mirian said offhandedly, in a way that would not require an answer. It wasn’t meant to be a conversation starter, it was simply an observation.

Inside the kitchen, Noven dumped his burden and set about to pulling three stools into a circle, centered around an upside-down bucket with a hunk of ancient bread on top. Noven took a seat, as did Thomas, and the halfbreed sat herself down on the last stool to complete the triangle.

“Eat up while it’s hot,” Noven said to the room at large.

Mirian needed no prompting. She didn’t have any utensils, but she soon discovered that the bread was stale enough to at least make the beans easier to deal with. The potatoes could be eaten with her fingers, as could the vegetables, and all in all it was much, much more than she had expected she would be eating.

“So, Miss Jade.”

Mirian looked at Thomas curiously.

“Wutcha think? Not half bad, I'd say. He's as ugly and mean as they come but this bloke here we call a cook at least dun' petch up spuds and beans."

Mirian was smiling before she could help it, although she managed to keep from laughing out loud. No need to encourage the lad; Noven looked like he dealt with enough annoyances already, feeding an entire room of orphans. After a hellish eternity of even just doling out the food, she had no idea how he could manage to do it every single day.

“I think I’d agree with you, Thomas.” She swiped up the last bit of beans on her last bit of bread and held them aloft, looking at Noven. “Here’s to your not petched up spuds and beans.” She finished up her food. “Long shot better than the rest of this town.”

Water was beginning to dab at the windows, not-so-unexpectedly. Mirian had noticed the gathering clouds earlier in the day, but had been too hungry to pay much mind; now that she was filled up with hot food, the prospect of going outside right now seemed less appealing. If she wanted to get home without being completely soaked, she would have to go now; the rain was still just a drizzle, although she suspected it would get harder the longer the evening went on.

“Thanks for the food,” she said, standing. “You didn’t have to. Thanks for everything, actually. I owe you––”

She was cut off by a sudden, piercing wail from outside the door. Mirian blinked and turned just in time to see a shadowed figure pass outside the window, hooded and cloaked to remain featureless. What…?

There was another cry, followed by a third, a sound that Mirian thought she recognized, but… surely it wasn’t…

Not bothering to ask permission, Mirian set her plate on the stool and strode to the kitchen door that hid the source of the noise. She pulled it open, but there was no one there.

Another cry.

She looked down. Blinked. Opened her mouth. Closed it. Tilted her head. Turned inwards. Looked at Noven.

“There’s a baby out here,” she informed him.

[Noven]

Nov was already half way out of his seat by the time they heard the first wail. Something dark and humanoid had swept past their little window, the splatters of rain making it impossible to tell who--or what--it was. In one hand he gripped a table knife, ever paranoid, ever ready for a fight.

He was so focused on preparing for the worst that the cook didn't realize Jade was moving until it was too late.

"Wait, don't--"

She was already at the door, pulling it open without so much as a shred of hesitance. Nov pictured a hundred different scenarios, half of which Jaded ended up mugged, murdered, held as a hostage, or all three in the time it took for the lass to figure out where those cries were coming from.

He knew what was making that racket long before had opened the door. But babies were common tools of distraction and deception. Countless times orphanages and households all over the Berth had been duped, either by the mimicking of an infant's cries or a an actual babe left on a doorstep as bait. And when the unsuspecting, kind-hearted victim unbarred their door to come to the child's aid, they were ambushed and robbed, raped, or murdered. Or all three, and not necessarily in that order.

But if past experience was anything to go by, what actually ended up happening was far worse. Nov's spirits sunk at Jade's confirmation and continued well-being as she stood in front of the open door. It meant the babe was truly abandoned then. And it would be up to the orphanage yet again to take it in.

Noven did not like babies. They were loud, useless, and did he mention loud? Not to mention they shat and pissed whenever, however they pleased. Then they bawled their beady little eyes out until someone cleaned up their mess. Honestly, the man couldn't think of anything more sadistic than leaving an unwanted infant on someone's doorstep for other people to deal with. Petching baby droppers. If only he could get his hands on one of them before they slipped away each time.

The only thing he hated more than being woken up by screaming babies was the fact that someone somewhere had decided to abandon one.

"Bring it in," Nov sighed as he sank back into his stool and set down the knife. "Don't want to leave it out there in the cold, unless we want sickness to deal with as well."

He was starting to change his mind about Jillene not being here during dinner. The cook was deeply, morbidly dreading trying to sleep tonight.

[Mirian Jade]

There was a moment of suspension. Not a long one, but long enough for Mirian to worry about whether or not Noven intended to actually do anything about the baby. As she waited, Mirian inclined herself to block the rain that would otherwise fall onto the basket.

And still the baby continued to cry.

With a world-weary sigh, Noven sat back down on his stool. “Bring it in,” he said. “Don’t want to leave it out there in the cold, unless we want sickness to deal with as well.”

Mirian was already kneeling before he’d finished, hoisting the basket from the ground and into the warmth of the kitchen. It was heavier than she would have expected, but she managed it without difficulty.

The door swung closed behind her, and Mirian found herself trying to figure out how to end the creature’s piercing noises. She didn’t like it, not at all. Not bothering to move away from the door, Mirian simply set the basket down where she was and peered at the child within, who was writhing alongside its screaming.

“Shh,” Mirian said, though she said it more like what one would say to an unruly taverngoer than what one would say to a baby.

It didn’t stop.

Frowning, Mirian reached in and took one of the flailing hands in her own. The baby didn’t stop its crying, not completely, but it went just a bit quieter with this new thing to hold its attention.

It was a step in the right direction, it seemed, and that was better than nothing.

Ten little fingers wrapped around one of Mirian’s, and for a moment she halted to marvel at how small they were. She only had a moment to think the thought before they were pulling, weak but insistent, and when she relented she found her finger draw into the baby’s mouth. Certainly unexpected, but it managed to reduce its wails to small, hungry whimpers.

Mirian blinked. She’d never seen a baby up close before. It was tiny. Unable to deny a bit of curiosity, she moved the cloth away from its face to see more clearly. Its head was round and pale and there was a little tuft of soft black hair at the crown of its skull, and its eyes were a brilliant shade of emerald that blinked and swiveled and looked at Mirian with wide, helpless wonder.

Mirian had little time to marvel, however, as the baby was beginning to fuss again. Letting her trapped hand remain as it was, the halfbreed slipped her other arm into the basket and under the cloth, lifting the creature into her arms as gently as she was able. That was what you did with babies, right? Held them? That was what people were always doing with babies when she saw them from a distance. She went slowly and carefully, not quite willing to remove her finger from the child’s mouth lest it feel like crying again, and in the end had to prop it up on one knee to get her free arm around it. The baby made a wordless noise and grabbed the collar of her shirt insistently, making sounds that weren’t quite cries but weren’t exactly far from cries, either. Usually, when someone grabbed her collar she got a sense of their strength through it, of solid power and threat. But now, with this child, the feeling was stunning in just how much it lacked that, of how truly and utterly weak and helpless this creature was. The feeling was… heady.

For the first time in the last minute or so, Mirian’s world expanded from her and the baby to include those around her. Strange, she hadn’t noticed it focus in the first place.

She looked back at Noven as the baby pulled her finger back into its mouth and grew quiet again––or quieter, at least––and tilted her head.

“I think it’s hungry,” she said. “What do you do with babies? Where do they go?”

[Noven]

The squalling menace was pulled inside and cries seemed to double in strength. Nov fought a wild urge to stab himself.

Wearing a look of utter perplexity, Jade stood there in front of the basket, peering down at the bawling babe. The cook almost burst out laughing when she told it to hush, but when it became evident she was serious he decided not to distract her.

Watching Jade try to tame the hungry little beast was equal parts entertaining and bewildering. So the lass really hadn't dealt with babies before. Noven found this surprising; most women he knew had some form of experience or another, if not with their own then with siblings or relatives. But, then again, Jade did seem the wary type. As was the cook himself, and he abhorred the things.

Nonetheless, both Nov and Thomas were quite familiar with babies. Even if they weren't the most maternal of figures, they had little choice while living in the orphanage, often required to help with handling the younger children when Jillene was too busy. They could tell the different between cries--if it was a hungry cry, or one of soiled cloths, or sickness, or pain, or a dozen others--and learned to deal with them all. But somehow Nov sensed this was an important moment for their guest, so he let her handle things however she chose. Thomas, on the other hand, was probably just enjoying the sight of Jade showing her softer side.

'Twas soft indeed, the cook had to admit. Things always were when it came to babes, much as he dreaded it when they cried. Maybe it was because they cried so shrilly that the surprising silence that followed was twice as divine.

Whatever it was that Jade did though worked. Slowly, at first, but surely by the time she asked what to do with the infant. Nov found himself releasing some of the tension he wasn't even aware existed in his shoulders. Finally, quiet. Quiet was good. Very good.

"Oh, it's hungry alright," he answered dryly, "and as for where they go, I'll be more than happy to show you. The sooner we hand it to someone who knows what they're doing the better. Thomas, get the basket. We'll take this wee one to Florence."

Thomas blushed a little at the mention of the name, but he nodded and did what he was told. Nov led their odd little procession through the building, up a flight of stairs and then down one of the halls, ordering peeping faces to go back to their rooms and shut their doors. He stopped at one of the doors and knocked lightly against the wood.

"Oy, Florence..."

The door swung open to reveal the plump form of Sunset's one and only wetnurse in residence. Her cheeks used to be rosier, before this food shortage had occurred, but she somehow managed to maintain her usual good spirits. "Oh, Nov, I know. I heard the poor thing all the way up from here. Here, hand her over."

Florence held out her arms for Jade to transfer her burden. How the woman knew it was a girl, Nov would probably never know. He just chalked it up to Florence dealing with so many babies she had to have picked up a trick or two along the way. The cook wasn't sure if Jade would be willing to part with the babe, given the way she had been playing with it earlier, examining it was if the child were a whole new discovery to her.

Florence seemed to sense this too and added, "You can help me settle the babe in, if you like, Miss. Poor thing could use an extra friendly face or two, and yours is right pretty enough for the job."

Squeezing past the adults, Thomas emerged with basket in tow and nodded eagerly in agreement.

[Mirian Jade]

"Oh, it's hungry alright," Noven said. "And as for where they go, I'll be more than happy to show you. The sooner we hand it to someone who knows what they're doing the better. Thomas, get the basket. We'll take this wee one to Florence."

Thomas seemed to stall, but it was only a moment before he was doing as he was told, scooping up the basket and leaving Jade to handle the baby. With one finger in its mouth and with the thing’s tiny hands still pulling at her, there was little she could do but keep on holding it as she followed Noven to whoever Florence might be.

He led her down a hall, through the building, up a flight of stairs, through another hall, all the while barking out at whoever poked their heads out to see what all the fuss was. Mirian did her best to hold her head high, despite the fact that she was almost a complete stranger here, and paid them no mind; her attention was instead focused on the child in her arms, and on the back of the man in front of her.

He stopped at a door, one that Mirian would have found indistinguishable from the ones around it, and knocked.

“Oy, Florence…”

The door swung open, revealing a rather plain room containing a woman that was neither young nor quite what Mirian would consider old.

"Oh, Nov, I know. I heard the poor thing all the way up from here. Here, hand her over."

Mirian stepped cautiously into the room, peering down at the baby and wondering just how she was to extricate herself. In all honesty, it wasn’t just the physical challenge that had her pausing; the baby had settled comfortably in her arms, chomping harmlessly down on her finger and mumbling to itself. It felt… nevermind that. It didn’t feel nice.

It didn’t.

Really.

"You can help me settle the babe in, if you like, Miss,” said the woman, perhaps sensing Mirian’s reluctance. “Poor thing could use an extra friendly face or two, and yours is right pretty enough for the job."

“I…”

What could she say? The baby needed to eat. Mirian nodded and made her way over. It took a bit of difficulty to unwrap the baby from her clothes, her hair and her finger, and it made the thing shift in bemusement as it changed hands. But this woman, this Florence, she seemed to know what she was doing, and the baby remained mostly quiet.

Mirian didn’t say anything else. She really wasn’t sure what to say. She didn’t want to leave the baby, not immediately, but that wasn’t exactly something she was prepared to say out loud. She only hoped Noven wouldn’t ask her to help him somewhere else. She ended up lingering awkwardly by Florence’s side, glancing between the wetnurse and the cook uncertainly. This was something she didn’t feel comfortable deciding.

[Noven]

Jade's discomfort was palpable, but she went to stand by Florence's side all the same, glancing between both caretakers tentatively.

Meanwhile, the wetnurse cooed at the babe a moment before unbuttoning her own shirt and slipping out a swollen breast for it to suckle on. Nov remained by the door, having seen this about a thousand times, and rifled through the basket that the infant had been abandoned in.

Thomas though displayed far less composure. Fidgeting as he stood by the cook, he couldn't decide where to look. It was still a strangely intimate sight for him--hence his blushing earlier--and the boy was just a little squeamish.

"I'm guessing she isn't yours, Miss?" Florence smiled up Jade as she fed the ravenous little runt. "A tough life for babes in this city, it is. 'Tis important for them to have their mother's milk, but so many mothers are starving themselves they've got nothing to spare. Not even I know how much longer I can do this."

The wetnurse glanced fondly down at the still suckling babe. "But at least I've got enough for this wee one, whose stomach must be emptier than the void."

"What's this...?" Nov muttered, pulling back a corner of the rags at the bottom of the basket. Something had glinted in the faint candlelight. He pulled all of the dirty cloth completely out and dumped them onto the floor.

Florence tsk'd. "Making a mess in my quarters already, Nov? We ought to keep those rags. Maybe they can be cleaned and used elsewhere."

The cook gave a noncommittal grunt, peering intently at the insides of the basket. Where had it been? He was sure he'd seen--

--ahh. There it was. A tiny speck of gold, no bigger than the tip of his pinky, wedged into one of the woven strands of the basket. Using his near nonexistent nails, Noven managed to pick out the object and hold it up in the faint light.

"Wot issit?" Thomas blurted, embarrassment forgotten.

"It looks like...a letter?" the man replied dubiously.

Thomas's face scrunched in confusion. "A letter? 'ow the bloody 'ell's anyone going ta read a letter that big?"

Nov snorted in derision. "No, you idiot. It's a letter, as in a single letter of the Common alphabet. Krysus, Tommy. Even I'm more literate than you are." He held the tiny, gold pendant lower so the orphan could see it clearer. "See there, it's the letter 'R.' Wonder what it stands for?"

Both cook and orphan looked toward Jade, as if she might somehow have the answer.

[Mirian Jade]

There was a silence as Florence began to tend to the baby, and Mirian had a vague sense of propriety to look away as she began to nurse. Thomas, likewise, seemed a bit uncomfortable, but Noven remained unperturbed.

“I’m guessing she isn’t yours, Miss?” Florence asked.

Mirian blinked. “My what? Baby? No.”

"A tough life for babes in this city, it is. 'Tis important for them to have their mother's milk, but so many mothers are starving themselves they've got nothing to spare. Not even I know how much longer I can do this." Florence looked down at the child in her arms. "But at least I've got enough for this wee one, whose stomach must be emptier than the void."

Mirian nodded along agreeably, not really certain as to what would be appropriate to say in response. As it turned out, Noven rescued her from having to try when he discovered something in the basket.

He mumbled something and dumped the rags onto the floor, drawing an irritated reprimand from Florence.

"Making a mess in my quarters already, Nov? We ought to keep those rags. Maybe they can be cleaned and used elsewhere."

He made a wordless noise in way of response, still focused on whatever it was he had found. Thomas piped up from the relative silence he’d fallen into, causing Noven to bare the little golden pendant he’d discovered.

“It looks like… a letter?”

"A letter? 'ow the bloody 'ell's anyone going ta read a letter that big?"

"No, you idiot. It's a letter, as in a single letter of the Common alphabet. Krysus, Tommy. Even I'm more literate than you are. See there, it's the letter 'R.' Wonder what it stands for?"

The two of them looked at Mirian, and it took a moment for her to realized that they had decided to direct the question at her.

“… Well I don’t know,” she said, spreading her hands helplessly. “I’d think a name, but it’s not exactly much to go by. Rose? Raylene? Robert? Could be anything.”

[Noven]

Somewhere in the back, Florence 'oohed' in delight.

"Those are such lovely names," she sighed as the babe continued suckling at her breast. "I think Miss Jade here is right. Whoever left this poor child must have cared enough to leave us a little clue as to her birth name. Isn't that right, sweet thing?"

The wetnursed cooed at the infant and stroked the side of its little cheek. Nov thought he could see some color returning to both babe and wetnurse, but perhaps it was just a trick of the light.

"Why just leave a letter, though, eh?" Thomas postured. "Why not just leave a note saying, 'ere's my baby's name. There, done."

Nov chortled at the kid's brash but sound logic. "Aye, they could've done just that. But they didn't. So use that ratty little head 'o yours, Tommy boy. I know it's good for somethin' other than schemin' with yer old lady."

The orphan hissed in frustration. "She's not my old lady. If yer so smart, Nov, why don't you tell us the secret then, eh?"

Clever little rat. Changing subjects while simultaneously placing liability back on the cook, which in turn protected what small shred of manhood Thomas actually possessed and also allowed him access to a bit of information he couldn't figure out on his own. All delivered in no more than two breaths' worth of words. Maybe the kid had some potential after all.

"Whoever left the baby doesn't want it to have its birth name," Noven replied. The air around them suddenly took a turn for the serious and sober. "They left a little reminder, sure. But that was a mistake if you ask me. Too much sentiment can do that to a person."

Thomas looked like he was about to ask why, but closed his mouth as the truth dawned on him.

"They...whoever couldn't keep the baby no more..." the boy murmured, "wanted her to 'ave a new name. Fer a new life. But they loved her enuff to leave somefin' of theirs. Of the family they never got to be."

The cook didn't bother with anymore flippant or derisive comments. Thomas had nailed the truth on the head, perhaps a bit too well. It was a sore spot for all of them, knowing they'd been abandoned at some point, and that while some of the orphans grew up with small trinkets or reminders of a life they were denied, for better or worse, others lived with nothing. You might argue it was better to have a fresh, clean start. Why bother wasting all your time thinking about a past or future you had no access to, anyway?

But the past did matter. No matter how many times one tried to deny it. The same, old questions always came back to haunt those who'd been given up, and Noven was no exception. And it was ten times as hard to live knowing you were abandoned likely without a second thought. Could be false, for all anyone knew, but without even the tiniest of reminders to prove otherwise, what else could an orphan assume?

Nov shook his head to rid himself of such dark thoughts. That was the last thing he needed right now. Clearing his throat, the cook went over and offered the little, gold pendant to Jade. It sat gleaming faintly in the dim candle light as it rested in the palm of his hand.

"Well, since you found the babe first, I suppose the honor belongs to you, Jade. What should the child be named?"

All three residents and staffers looked back to their guest once more, wondering what she would choose. There was a subtle hint of excitement and anticipation building in the small room. Harmless, innocent things like this didn't happen everyday in the Berth.