"She was... she did not touch me." That was something, which seems nothing. But in the days since she had been taken up by Elgar'nan, he had put his hands in her hair, tilted her face up with nails that had dug in to turn her this way and that, to inspect her. Then passed her over to those that cared just as much. Pawed and poked and prodded with harshly inspecting gaze. That Mythal did not immediately go to lay claim the second she was allowed... it was enough.
But to the rest, she flinches away from it - as if that were not answer enough for his question. Her fingers reach instead for another morsel of food, another small, scurried bite in the nervousness. Busying herself with it as she nods, slowly, little. "I will be presented at the next one of his... displays. When my skills are enough." The joke, the laughter around her head as they marred her face. She looks handsome with a weapon in her hands, that will do well. Now she will be thrown in and directed as he saw fit. "He expects I will do quite well, given the speed my temper gave me. He has put me to dancing, short swords, archery first."
She doesn't want it, of course she doesn't. She had wanted to protect a friend. In her worst nightmares, wildest dreams, it had never looked like this.
The unease she has is clear. He frowns as he studies her, watches her movements for the telltale signs of discomfort. She was not the first he had seen torn from what they knew and thrust into another life, one in which they had even less control of. There had to be a better way. He refused to believe otherwise.
"I am sorry. Even if it means little," he adds. He could not change her fate, not now. Any power he held was within Mythal's court and that all rested beneath her will. There would be no upsets in Elgar'nan's over one of his new slaves. She would become one of others he would 'collect' for such purposes. Solas hides his disgust at the thought with a sip of his drink. There had to be a better way. None of the People deserved to live like this, beneath the heels of another and forced to act as some prize.
"There is not much I can do to ease it. Here, no one will expect you to train or perform." A small respite, that was all he could offer. All that was within his limited power.
Her eyes are still mostly shut, enough to not see his reactions so well, but instead. To know the warm tone of his voice. To hear what he offers and so new this, so foolish to this, by the physical reaction she has, she takes him at his word with full trust. Her shoulders roll back and her breath comes easier. An openness and then -
- the smile curls a little at the corner of her mouth. Not too much, if she did it would hurt after all. But there, just the same. "That is for the best. I would hate to embarrass Mythal's own in their own quarters."
"Hate to does not mean will not," he says back dryly though there's a touch of amusement in his tone. At least she was smiling now. That was a small victory he would take with him even after she left. He picks slowly at his food.
"Do you have enough food?" Because if not, he's ready to shove what's left of his onto her plate.
Is it unseemly to admit she's starving? Probably. But it didn't change the fact she was.
"You have given me plenty... But I could still eat."
And dutifully, she holds her nearly cleared plate up to receive more. "I was good... Do you know? Before he took me away from my life. There wasnt a person faster than me." hurt, perhaps, that this is what it took to get that noticed. "I think that I must be faster still if I am going to survive him."
He lets that admission go and merely adds more to her plate from his. Whatever pride she had left, he would prefer her to keep than hold her hunger as a point of weakness. She had been through far too much already.
"You must. You will find others in your ranks with familiar stories to your own, ones that will welcome you rather than add to your trials." In their own ways. They were harder to find than the others of Elgar'nan's, but it would help her survive. Once she was better and of 'use' to their ranks. "What I saw of your technique was impressive." There's a brief pause as he recalls her careful movements, executed with precision and all done 'fast,' as she puts it. "Elegant."
And to think, such an action had been all it took to change her life.
She devours it much like she did the first batch. If a little more seemly than practically inhaling it, she doesn't hesitate in beginning to eat as much as she can. Only paused to fumble in reaching for her drink that searches by touch rather than unerringly knowing where it is by sight.
Listening as he speaks and - his compliment peaks a warmth in her face. A little stumble. "Oh -" She shouldn't think too much, undoubtedly it was just a kindness for him to say so but... even so. It might be nice as she goes to sip quickly to cover it. No one had ever paid her much attention. Not when Kashi was about. How could she hold a candle to her friend? Didn't want to, particularly. It only got Kashi in trouble. The kind of trouble that had landed her here. But her skills, her abilities, those she worked for. Spent every waking moment in the training thereof.
" - no one has ever called it that before. Thank-you. Usually, they call it a problem."
That he is the first is a surprise. It's clear from the way she stumbles through accepting his words that she is very much unused to praise. For all the good in her, no one has thought to recognize it? He shakes his head lightly at her reaction and leans back in his seat. A gesture that at least helps to contain his continued annoyance at how Elgar'nan runs his people.
"You have been around many with poorer eyesight than yours presently," he says in a tone that heavily implies he would gladly say it to Elgar'nan himself if given the opportunity. "It is a poise very few possess."
She coughs in surprise on her swallow. Hastily clearing her throat - another mouthful. "Thank you. You don't need to say that."
But she likes it, certainly, at least as the little smile is going. The suddenly all too self-conscious way she holds herself. Lifting to brush her hair behind her ear, polite, mostly. Fumbling to direct the attention elsewhere. "You must have seen many great fighters, before anything I've ever done."
He gives a small smile of amusement at her reaction and shrugs. There were a great many things he didn't need to say or do, but that never stopped him. A fact that drove Mythal and all he knew to the edge. Ah, well. It hadn't gotten him killed. Yet.
"Through my time here, yes. I see no use in false flattery." He's as prideful as his name implies. Any words of praise he gives are earned. "If you find yourself free of obligation after your meal, we could walk the halls. It would serve you well to get familiar with them now."
As much as she could with her sight the way it was, but it would be a start.
He gives her this little smile and she waits maybe, for him to take it away from her, but instead, it grows. Feeling her lashes against her cheek as her eyes scrunch with the giddiness of kind words. A predisposition before they had tried to take it away to be quick to laughter, quick to smile. Before she has the good sense to cover it, wetting her lips, biting white blunt teeth into the full of her bottom lips.
"I would like that."
And she goes about the business of wolfing down the rest of the meal, like the half-starved thing she is.
Somehow, he manages to hold back his laughter at the way she's decided to handle her last bits of food. That was one way to finish off her meal. With a simple wave of his hand, he indicates their plates should be left as is. He slides out from his seat and moves to offer her a hand should she want it.
"I find the gardens calming when I am in need of peace," he suggests. If this is any indication of how her time adjusting to Elgar'nan has gone, she could use the quiet instead of bustling halls.
The plate is set aside, dusting her fingers off. Then reaches for him, misses a little, at the edge of her hand until she slides across his fingers, curling hers - soft, light, where it had not already blistered sorely around it. Swords.
"Do you find it?" She wets her lips. "Peace?" That is, rising to stand up and go with him. "Only... I do not think to know how one can." Not here particularly, but at all.
A fighter. That had been clear the moment he had seen her. The blisters on her hands had only further proved it. He keeps his hold light, never wanting to constraint her or make her feel as if she had to stay. All he was there for was to provide a guiding hand should she want it.
"Very rarely," he admits and starts leading the way. Not that he sounds bothered. He was used to carrying the weight of many on his shoulders. "But the aroma of the gardens helps when little else does."
Her hand keeps there, falling into step with him. Her face turning to look at him, where she cannot open her eyes - so that he might know he has her full attention. "Which is your favourite flower for the smell?"
A naive question, maybe, or just a simple one. Removed from every other bit of misery at present but easier for it. Perhaps selfish because - "Only, it's beauty might be otherwise lost on someone half blind, I'm afraid."
"One that cannot be picked and blooms rarely," he answers. Even if she could not see it, the peace of it had far more to offer her than others here. "There are a few scattered among Mythal's gardens. Will you be here after dinner?"
Because if she was, he would be taking her for a walk through the more secluded ones when others were off preparing for rest or unwinding after a day's work.
"He said he planned on it." She would need to be on hand, couldn't be too far. Must be ready for entertainment, because he had planned to stay long. He deserved his praise after all.
(that she refuses to give him a name, she wonders, is that her trying to protect herself or forgive these sins? She can't quite tell. Suspects, regardless, that it changes nothing.)
"I would like that. Very much. It sounds very beautiful." untouchable, she wants to believe, because of that beauty. Except here she is, after all.
Solas makes a face at that news, not bothering to hide his annoyance to any who might be looking on. He was fortunate enough to be in a position where he could make his frustrations of Elgar'nan known. It was only when he became too vocal and troublesome with it that Mythal would reprimand him.
"Then I will show you. If we are fortunate, the flowers will be ready to bloom." He pauses as he considers his next words. "I may be able to bring something for us to drink."
An offer of respite, should she wish to accept it.
"Please." Is her little smile, her fingers gripping against his. His expression unbeknownst to her, after all, she was not looking up so far. Nor could she risk letting her face be anything but blank when her new master was spoken of.
But no one could make her look happy, look glad. They had taken that right from her, too.
Her smile, small as it is, feels like a small victory. It bolsters his pride and brings a small one of his own. While she cannot see it, the warmth of it manages to make it into his voice.
"Do you have a preference? You could use the drink far more than I." And he would try to fulfill her request as best he could. He was on good enough terms with those that worked the kitchens.
Her own little bit of daring then as she thinks with pursed lips. "Something... Something we shouldn't have. That isn't meant for us. Sweet. I want it to be sweet and bright." Maybe that meant more to her then it did to him. He was used to this life, grand, lived at the highest ranks.
But she was still so fresh off the streets. It had a kind of temptation. Like stealing out of a rich man's purse to buy sweets.
"Is there grass, where we're going?" A certain kind of hope, and odd that the further they seem to go, away from the quarters, the press of servants and their duties the happier she sees to come.
He hums thoughtfully then rests a hand on her arm briefly in assurance. "I may need to bring more than one to sample then. You will have to tell me which shines the brightest." And he would need to quickly return what was left of the bottles afterward, but he could manage that.
"Fresh air and quiet," he answers. "There is a path of grass that runs through the terrace if you are eager to feel it beneath your feet."
There was nothing quite like it when one felt trapped and alone. They had no need to be close at hand. If Elgar'nan wished to summon them, he could search until he found them far from the rest of the household.
"Good." is one pleased and eagee sound she says back.
Because when they do arrive she knows it at least by her bare feet, if not by gaze. How sudden it is, overwhelmingly so. It's risky, and it's stupid, but that alone makes her untangle her arm from his safety and guidance.
The feeling of it is overwhelming. An imagined freedom. Quiet, no barked orders, no kick to knock her down and no yank on her hair to pull back up again. Even her companion for a moment fades away, as for the first time since she had been taken away, Lakshmi begins to laugh, stretching out her legs and throws herself into a jerky run. Laughing and laughing and laughing. Until the blindness does its part.
But at least she is skilled, elegant as he said, that she catches herself as she tumbles, hits the ground and rolls a few feet to land on her back. Both her hands sprawled above her head, twining thick into the grass as she lay there. Laughing, still, half blind, still sore, and breathless.
As soon as she pulls herself away, he steps back. Who knew how long this moment would last, how long she would be able to remain here unhindered. It was a rare moment for any slave of Elgar'nan. The laughter has him smiling even as she tumbles. Every movement of hers is controlled and done with purpose despite the injuries that hinder her.
Once she's settled in the grass, he squats down beside her and rests his arms on his knees.
"Well? Is it as good as you remember?" he asks, amused.
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But to the rest, she flinches away from it - as if that were not answer enough for his question. Her fingers reach instead for another morsel of food, another small, scurried bite in the nervousness. Busying herself with it as she nods, slowly, little. "I will be presented at the next one of his... displays. When my skills are enough." The joke, the laughter around her head as they marred her face. She looks handsome with a weapon in her hands, that will do well. Now she will be thrown in and directed as he saw fit. "He expects I will do quite well, given the speed my temper gave me. He has put me to dancing, short swords, archery first."
She doesn't want it, of course she doesn't. She had wanted to protect a friend. In her worst nightmares, wildest dreams, it had never looked like this.
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"I am sorry. Even if it means little," he adds. He could not change her fate, not now. Any power he held was within Mythal's court and that all rested beneath her will. There would be no upsets in Elgar'nan's over one of his new slaves. She would become one of others he would 'collect' for such purposes. Solas hides his disgust at the thought with a sip of his drink. There had to be a better way. None of the People deserved to live like this, beneath the heels of another and forced to act as some prize.
"There is not much I can do to ease it. Here, no one will expect you to train or perform." A small respite, that was all he could offer. All that was within his limited power.
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- the smile curls a little at the corner of her mouth. Not too much, if she did it would hurt after all. But there, just the same. "That is for the best. I would hate to embarrass Mythal's own in their own quarters."
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"Do you have enough food?" Because if not, he's ready to shove what's left of his onto her plate.
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"You have given me plenty... But I could still eat."
And dutifully, she holds her nearly cleared plate up to receive more. "I was good... Do you know? Before he took me away from my life. There wasnt a person faster than me." hurt, perhaps, that this is what it took to get that noticed. "I think that I must be faster still if I am going to survive him."
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"You must. You will find others in your ranks with familiar stories to your own, ones that will welcome you rather than add to your trials." In their own ways. They were harder to find than the others of Elgar'nan's, but it would help her survive. Once she was better and of 'use' to their ranks. "What I saw of your technique was impressive." There's a brief pause as he recalls her careful movements, executed with precision and all done 'fast,' as she puts it. "Elegant."
And to think, such an action had been all it took to change her life.
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Listening as he speaks and - his compliment peaks a warmth in her face. A little stumble. "Oh -" She shouldn't think too much, undoubtedly it was just a kindness for him to say so but... even so. It might be nice as she goes to sip quickly to cover it. No one had ever paid her much attention. Not when Kashi was about. How could she hold a candle to her friend? Didn't want to, particularly. It only got Kashi in trouble. The kind of trouble that had landed her here. But her skills, her abilities, those she worked for. Spent every waking moment in the training thereof.
" - no one has ever called it that before. Thank-you. Usually, they call it a problem."
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"You have been around many with poorer eyesight than yours presently," he says in a tone that heavily implies he would gladly say it to Elgar'nan himself if given the opportunity. "It is a poise very few possess."
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But she likes it, certainly, at least as the little smile is going. The suddenly all too self-conscious way she holds herself. Lifting to brush her hair behind her ear, polite, mostly. Fumbling to direct the attention elsewhere. "You must have seen many great fighters, before anything I've ever done."
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"Through my time here, yes. I see no use in false flattery." He's as prideful as his name implies. Any words of praise he gives are earned. "If you find yourself free of obligation after your meal, we could walk the halls. It would serve you well to get familiar with them now."
As much as she could with her sight the way it was, but it would be a start.
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"I would like that."
And she goes about the business of wolfing down the rest of the meal, like the half-starved thing she is.
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"I find the gardens calming when I am in need of peace," he suggests. If this is any indication of how her time adjusting to Elgar'nan has gone, she could use the quiet instead of bustling halls.
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"Do you find it?" She wets her lips. "Peace?" That is, rising to stand up and go with him. "Only... I do not think to know how one can." Not here particularly, but at all.
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"Very rarely," he admits and starts leading the way. Not that he sounds bothered. He was used to carrying the weight of many on his shoulders. "But the aroma of the gardens helps when little else does."
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A naive question, maybe, or just a simple one. Removed from every other bit of misery at present but easier for it. Perhaps selfish because - "Only, it's beauty might be otherwise lost on someone half blind, I'm afraid."
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Because if she was, he would be taking her for a walk through the more secluded ones when others were off preparing for rest or unwinding after a day's work.
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(that she refuses to give him a name, she wonders, is that her trying to protect herself or forgive these sins? She can't quite tell. Suspects, regardless, that it changes nothing.)
"I would like that. Very much. It sounds very beautiful." untouchable, she wants to believe, because of that beauty. Except here she is, after all.
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"Then I will show you. If we are fortunate, the flowers will be ready to bloom." He pauses as he considers his next words. "I may be able to bring something for us to drink."
An offer of respite, should she wish to accept it.
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But no one could make her look happy, look glad. They had taken that right from her, too.
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"Do you have a preference? You could use the drink far more than I." And he would try to fulfill her request as best he could. He was on good enough terms with those that worked the kitchens.
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But she was still so fresh off the streets. It had a kind of temptation. Like stealing out of a rich man's purse to buy sweets.
"Is there grass, where we're going?" A certain kind of hope, and odd that the further they seem to go, away from the quarters, the press of servants and their duties the happier she sees to come.
Or, not that odd at all.
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"Fresh air and quiet," he answers. "There is a path of grass that runs through the terrace if you are eager to feel it beneath your feet."
There was nothing quite like it when one felt trapped and alone. They had no need to be close at hand. If Elgar'nan wished to summon them, he could search until he found them far from the rest of the household.
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Because when they do arrive she knows it at least by her bare feet, if not by gaze. How sudden it is, overwhelmingly so. It's risky, and it's stupid, but that alone makes her untangle her arm from his safety and guidance.
The feeling of it is overwhelming. An imagined freedom. Quiet, no barked orders, no kick to knock her down and no yank on her hair to pull back up again. Even her companion for a moment fades away, as for the first time since she had been taken away, Lakshmi begins to laugh, stretching out her legs and throws herself into a jerky run. Laughing and laughing and laughing. Until the blindness does its part.
But at least she is skilled, elegant as he said, that she catches herself as she tumbles, hits the ground and rolls a few feet to land on her back. Both her hands sprawled above her head, twining thick into the grass as she lay there. Laughing, still, half blind, still sore, and breathless.
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Once she's settled in the grass, he squats down beside her and rests his arms on his knees.
"Well? Is it as good as you remember?" he asks, amused.