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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"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.