Spirits of the Earth

By her third match of the day, Lani was convinced her newest master was trying to kill her.

She already knew he'd only bought her because the master before him had basically dared him to, implying that she'd be too much for him to handle. When that proved to be the case, he'd stopped sending her into fights that were a test of her skill and started tossing her into the arena just to watch her get clobbered.

If she died in the pits, he wouldn't have to admit defeat.

But she wasn't about to let him off that easy. If these people wanted a fight, damnit they were going to get a fight. Panting, bruised, and bleeding from wounds she'd received in earlier matches, Lani stood her ground.

Caged on the other side of the arena were two male lions- starved just enough to make them meaner- snarling and pacing as she stared them down.

She shifted her stance as two other slaves with long, hooked poles moved forward to open the cages. Her heart was pounding against her ribs, her mind frantically trying to figure out a way she could just survive this. It wasn't the fist time she'd fought animals in her time as a gladiator. It wasn't even the first time she'd fought a lion.

But it was the first time she'd do it with nothing but the clothes on her back.

This wasn't Qismat's scene.

In fact, he would really rather be doing anything but this at this very moment, be anywhere but here. Watching scarabs rolls balls of dung across the sand would be preferable to being here, among these walls built on the backs of slaves and stained in blood and audience to a fight that would no doubt be a bloodbath. But Ahmira Faliq, talented seamstress with many talented workers beneath her, had insisted she was far too busy to meet with Qismat unless he agreed to meet with her in her down time.

This was apparently her down time.

It curdled even the acid in his stomach, but he had agreed.

Don't worry, she had said. Today's just the game hunts!

Qismat didn't like that, either, the pointless killing of chained animals in a fighting pit--hardly a hunt--but at least the slaves were armed. And so he'd endured it as background noise as he met with Ahmira and discussed a potential partnership, as he endured her flirtations and the hand that kept finding its way to his knee somehow, and had finally sealed the deal when the next fight was announced.

Qismat stood to leave, his job done, and spared the pit a final cursory glance--

And stopped cold.

Lions this time. Two of them, hungry, starved beasts that were already crazed from it, and driven even madder as they were poked and prodded through the bars to piss them off more. Yet as he dragged his eyes from them to the actual human in the ring...

Dear Hakeshna.

Was she...was she unarmed?

The announcer called out her name and her owner's name right as the slaves hooked their poles onto the cage doors and swung them open.

And the lions poured out.

Oh shit.

It's too late, common sense yelled at him, but the owner's name rang in his mind, and registered as familiar. Another merchant, which meant he would be near, as only the wealthy could afford the seats in this section. It might be too late by the time he found him, and yet Qismat couldn't stand to see some girl ripped apart if there was even a chance that it could be stopped.

He scanned the stands, heart thundering, knowing each second was precious and hoping the girl was clever--

And then he saw him, a man he'd done business with ages before, and he pushed through the crowd to reach him, grabbing him by the shoulder.

"How much for the girl?" he demanded, and the man gave him a dumbfounded look. "What?" he growled, and shook off his hand. "Who the hell are--"

"Qismat Nejem, we've done business before and I'd like to do more now. How much is the girl?"

"Are you out of your mind? The girl's gonna be dead here real soon."

"Then she's expendable and you won't mind if I buy her. Stop the fight now and I'll pay you."

The man stared at him, utterly confused. "Why the hell would you...?"

"It doesn't matter. You'll make more off her if she's alive than dead, now stop the fight and name your price!"

"You're one crazy sonnuva..." Shaking his head, the man signaled to the announcer. "Stop the match! We need the girl alive!"

The lions lunged forward, snarling, and Lani leaped to the side. She couldn't outrun them, she definitely couldn't best them with her bare hands- honestly she was just prolonging the inevitable, dodging claws and fangs to the best of her ability.

The only thing that saved her was that they were males, unused to hunting for their food at all, let alone working as a team to do so. And they were half starved and mad because of it, fighting each other as much as her.

A slashing paw caught her shoulder and she cried out, knocked to the ground. Desperately she tried to roll away, just barely missing another swiping claw. She thought she heard the announcer saying something, but adrenaline and pure panic wouldn't let her focus on anything but run, dodge, duck, twist, fight!

One false move and the smaller lion was on her, paws on her shoulders as his weight pinned her to the ground. He snarled in her face and she clenched her eyes shut. Horse Lords, this was it. She was going to die.

At least she'd see her father and Nemiera again...

"That's it, pull him back."

...What?

Her eyes snapped open at the sudden weight being lifted from her. It took her a few moments to register what was happening, and when she did her jaw dropped open.

A group of muscled, armored slaves had been dispatched to drag the lions back into their cages. Someone else was approaching her, saying something about the fight being called to a halt, reaching out to grab her arm and pull her to her feet.

She recovered enough to smack the hand away, staggering to her feet and swaying. "What...why...?" she rasped, blinking as her vision started to fade at the edges. Damnit, probably the blood loss. The lions may not have killed her, but they'd torn her up pretty good.

The slave who'd apparently been sent to retrieve her shrugged, shaking her head mutely. Beckoning for Lani to follow, she led her out of the ring.

Dazed, Lani stumbled after her. What the hell just happened?

By the time Lani was lead back through the portcullis, the crowd stunned into confused chatter, Qismat had already paid the merchant and made his way down to meet her. He could scarcely breathe, his hands balmy and shaky, because that had been close. So close. Right before his eyes, she had nearly been shredded. If he had hesitated one second longer, she would have been dead.

And yet, as he made his way down, the realization of what he'd done sank in as well and he could have laughed. He didn't need another slave. He had too many as it was! He couldn't not save her, though, but he just hoped...well...he just hoped she could be rehabilitated. That she could make it out in society. He had so many slaves these days because he tended to buy the ones that couldn't make it on their own, the undesirables, the vulnerable people, the ones who had nowhere else to go--or the ones that were too likely to fall back into bad habits and end up straight back in the hands of cruel masters. He regretted none of that, but...well...what was one more, he supposed.

The guards eyed him curiously as he approached, and he flashed them the papers her old master had given him. "I'm the slave's new owner," he said in a tone that suggested they not ask questions. And when the doors opened and the slave was brought out before him, it was an effort not to wince.

She'd been wounded. Badly, if all the blood meant anything.

He gave her a quick once over, putting on the cold act that was expected of him, and then looked to the guards and slapped a few coins and bills in their hands. "Have her treated and patched up, and then deliver her to my residence," he said. "The Nejem estate. I want her there by dusk. Don't keep me waiting."

With another hard look her way, he turned on his heel and left.

Ah. A new owner. She supposed that explained it.

Not well. But it explained something.

Lani gave her new "master" as cold a look as he gave her, refusing to bow her head even as she stood shaking and bleeding before him. Then he ordered her to be treated and left. Just like that. She was hustled away to be patched up, barely reacting to the poking and prodding and bandaging.

She had a collection of gashes on her shoulder where the lion's law had caught her, and a few more on her left ribs. She thought the brute might have broken some when he pinned her down, and she bore a collection of various other bruises and cuts from her earlier fights.

But once she was deemed "presentable", she was hustle away to be taken to whatever new hell was in store. It was just before dusk when the guard that had been ordered to escort her delivered her to the Nejem estate.

Right on time then, she thought wryly, too drained to really look around at her new "home". When the guard announced them with a brisk, "Delivery for the the master of the house."

The slave and her "escorts" were greeted by Qismat's own guards, who took the girl from them and paid the escorts a nice sum for her safe delivery. Then she was swiftly ushered in through the gates and through the lush courtyard leading into Qismat's home.

Which was, indeed, fit for a prince.

There were flowers everywhere, and fountains, the air ripe with the scent of lotus blossoms. As they lead the girl indoors, it was surprisingly cool inside--and she would see that the floor was made of polished marble. There was a faint sound of trickling water, the source of the coolness being the indoor fountains and pools that could be found here and there, the marble floor veined with little channels to let the water run through the estate and back outdoors.

The furniture was plush and rich, the place clean and smelling of flowers and incense. The guards lead the girl into a foyer--where Qismat already was, reclined on a settee and smoking hookah.

He looked up at the sound of footsteps and lowered his pipe, sitting up.

"Sir, the slave, delivered as you wished."

Qismat blew out a slow stream of smoke and stood, nodding to the guards that they could take their leave. He wasn't afraid of this girl, and besides, she looked too beat to hurt more than a fly.

"Come on in," he said, motioning. "Come sit. You look like you could use the rest." And then, lifting the pipe, he raised an eyebrow. "Hookah?"

Even in her battered state, Lani somehow still had the mind space to be awed by the splendor around her. She didn't have a lot of time to stop and gawk though, as she was ushered quickly to meet her new master.

She simply stood and glared at him as he dismissed the guards, arms folded over her chest and stance tense. She didn't move when he offered her a seat- though she was sure her surprise showed on her face. Giving comfort to a slave? What the hell was his angle?

Then he offered her the pipe, and despite all her best efforts she found herself gaping at him. "Hoo-what?"

Sure, she'd seen people smoke similar pipes before, but honestly she didn't even know that's what the stuff was called, much less what it actually was.

"Hookah," Qismat repeated with an amused smile, and took a drag off the pipe to demonstrate before blowing the smoke out in tiny little rings. "It's a water pipe. It's okay, you don't have to if you don't smoke, but considering the amount of pain I imagine you're in..."

He looked her up and down, at the freshly cleaned and bandaged wounds. "It might ease your discomfort. The offer's there." For he preferred his hookah with cannabis, rather than tobacco.

He set the pipe down, fighting to hide his amusement at all her gaping. "Please, sit down at least. You can't be comfortable. What's your name?"

Glowering, she reluctantly took a seat. Mostly because her legs were starting to shake and she didn't want him to notice. Her eyes flicked to the pipe. She wasn't quite desperate enough to accept his offer yet- she was sure taking his "hospitality" would come back to bit her in the ass later- but it was awfully tempting.

She hurt.

"Lanoula," she replied gruffly, eyeing him warily. "Lani." Most Essyrni couldn't seem to get their mouths around pronunciation of her full name.

"Lan...oo...ah. Lani it is, then!" Qismat said with a sheepish smile, deciding it best to admit defeat before he totally slaughtered her name. He rubbed the back of his neck, awkward now that he finally had her. Even though he'd been through this process before, it was different every time, different because every slave and situation was different. Because of that, it never got easier--he never knew how each person would respond.

And buying another human being was awkward in and of itself. He couldn't even begin to think of what she might be feeling right now--or what intentions she might think he had. Considering why most men bought women, though, he had a few ideas.

He shifted in his seat. "Well, Lani, I'm Qismat. Just Qismat. Don't bother calling me 'master' or any such nonsense, because I'm not interested in that. I'm not even interested in owning you." Leaning forward a little, he met her eyes. "I just couldn't stand by and let you die, you understand?"

He...wasn't interested in owning her.

What the hell?

She blinked at him in silence for a moment. "You bought me...to save me?" she clarified, skepticism heavy in her voice. She wasn't buying it. But- well, she'd had over a dozen masters at this point, and none of them had been as civil to her as this one had been in five minutes. That didn't mean she was letting her guard down, but she had to admit she was intrigued.

Unless of course he didn't want her as a fighter but rather for...other purposes. Though she found that a little hard to believe. What man looked at her, all muscle and scars and flinty eyes, and thought she'd make a good bedmate?

So she was reserving judgement. For now.

She wasn't buying it. He could hear the doubt in her voice. But why should she believe him?

Qismat sighed and ran his fingers through his many tiny braids. "Ah...yes. I don't expect you to believe me just because I'm telling you this. I know how it must sound. But I hope my actions will speak for themselves, in time," he said, and spared her another once-over: scarred, muscular, wounded, and no doubt exhausted and needing time to process things.

And no doubt, this was a lot to take in already.

"Just know that while you're here, you're a guest, and subject to the same hospitality I'd offer such a guest. You have full reign of my home and its grounds, with the exception of my own private chambers. My servants are yours; they'll see to all your needs. There's more to discuss, of course, but I'll save that for when you're feeling better. For now...are you hungry? Thirsty? And how are your wounds? I can send for a healer, if needed."

She was a guest? For how long? And what did he mean, more to discuss?

It was too much to take in at once, at least in her current state of exhaustion. She did manage to latch on to his offer of food. Shaking her head slowly, she muttered, "I'm fine, I don't need a healer..." She hesitated, then decided if she was going to pay for it later anyway she may as well enjoy what comforts she could now.

"I am hungry," Lani admitted, glancing up at him warily. "But...water. I'd...really like some water." She couldn't remember the last time she'd had more than a mouthful from a tin cup.

"And you shall have it!" Qismat said, and motioned to a servant that was lingering just outside the door.

The woman, a former slave who had later decided to stay on as a servant--a paid servant, free to leave whenever she wished--stepped inside with a bow.

"Fetch us a pitcher of water, if you will--and while you're at it, see how dinner's coming along," Qismat said, and the servant scurried from the room without pause. While she was gone, Qismat once again turned his attention to Lani, looking her over curiously.

"You're not Essyrni," he said, scratching at some stubble on his chin. "Where are you from?"

Lani watched the servant come and go with narrowed eyes, though she had to admit she was a little surprise not to see a slave's veil- or any other mark of bondage- on the woman.

Her wary look snapped to Qismat at his question and she debated for a moment before answering. "The plains," she said simply, hunching her shoulder a bit. "I was born on the Serha Plains."

"The plains?" Qismat repeated, reclining against the cushions and taking another drag from the hookah pipe. "You're a long way from home, then. How did you end up in the Colosseum here?"

Her expression twisted into a snarl. "I don't see how that's any of your business," she hissed, eyes narrowed. Even as she spat the words she tensed, expecting him to hit her. Or, more likely, call someone else to "discipline" her for him.

Let me just jam my foot down my throat here.

Qismat winced visibly and held up his hands, palms facing her, regretting the question as soon as it left his mouth. Shit. Of all the people that should have bloody well known better...

"Ah, you're right, you're right, I apologize. That's not my business," he said with a grimace. "I'm just trying to make conversation."

Fortunately, the servant returned then, saving him from having to think of a way to salvage the moment. She balanced a tray in her hands, bearing a pitcher of cool water and two cups, with a plate of sliced lemons on the side. Stooping, she set the tray on the table before them, announced that dinner would be ready in five, and took her leave once more.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Qismat motioned to the water. "Help yourself."

Lani's snarl softened to a look of surprise for a moment before she schooled her features back to expressionless. Far from punishing her for her disrespect, he was backtracking- apologizing.

This guy was not what she was used to.

She almost felt a little guilty with the way he was fumbling. She put the thought from her mind though when the servant reappeared, barely waiting to be given permission before she snatched a cup and filled it with water.

Guzzling the first cup in a matter of seconds, she downed a second and half of a third before she paused to breathe. "Horse Lords," she whispered. She hadn't realized just how thirsty she was.

"She isn't a slave," Lani commented bluntly when she'd slowed down a bit, nodding in the direction the serving woman had gone. It was a statement, but she thought the question behind it was pretty clear. If you're buying slaves, why do you have paid servants?

...Erk!

Maaaybe he shouldn't have given her full reign to serve herself just yet, Qismat realized as she guzzled down glass after glass with surprising speed. If she'd been starved for water, she might just make herself sick and end up throwing it all back up; he'd heard of dehydrated people finally getting water only to get violently ill when they sucked it down too fast. And with her, from the looks of it, her biggest risk might be the fact that she didn't even pause to breathe!

He made to reach for her, stopped short, and then just watched her worriedly instead. No, with the way she'd snarled at him before, she might just take off his arm if he tried to slow her down. So instead, he let her drink, waited a few beats after she was done, and when she didn't sick up all over the floor, hoped that was a sign she'd be fine.

He was still sliiiightly stressing over that when her question jolted him back to the present, and he blinked at her before it registered. "Hm? Oh, you mean Mirah?" he said, and looked over toward the servant and then back to Lani.

"No, she's not. Not anymore."

The cool water probably should have woken her up a bit, but the shock of so much at once to her deprived system really only made her feel a little sick to her stomach, then fuzzy in the head. Blinking, she let her head tilt slightly as she looked at him and sipped, slowly this time, at yet another glass of water.

"Not anymore?" she repeated, brow furrowing slightly. "Did she...work off her freedom?" She'd heard that some slave owners worked out such deals, but she'd never actually seen evidence of one before.

"No." Qismat filled the other glass and squeezed a lemon slice into the water. Lani still wasn't hurling. Good! He really didn't want to deal with vomit on his settee, even if it was all water.

He took a sip and cleared his throat. "She was never a slave under my roof. I got her out of a bad situation, bought her off a...not nice man in the market. And when she was well enough to take care of herself, I offered her a job if she wanted it or the freedom to leave. She chose the job." He gave a little shrug. "She can quit whenever she wants, of course."

Lani stared.

And stared and kept staring.

"You..buy slaves," she said slowly, trying to reconcile what he was saying with every experience she'd had since she'd been brought to this gods-forsaken city. "In order to...free them?" She shook her head back and forth slowly, then snorted.

"You're either stupid or mental." Those were the only explanations she could come up with.

On the plus side, at least he didn't have to wonder about what she was thinking. Damn.

Qismat narrowed his eyes, his lips pulling into a thin line. "So should I just let them rot instead? Just let them die? Or use them like everyone else in this city does?" he asked, voice calm and quiet despite the edge that entered it.

"You're welcome, by the way."

Her eyebrows went up a bit. She'd expected him to be offended, but at the insult to his intelligence, not at the implication that she expected him to treat slaves the way everyone else did.

Ignoring the "you're welcome", she tilted her head slightly. "Why don't you?" she asked, genuinely curious now. "You live in this big fancy place, you've got servants and hoo-whatever... Why do you care what happens to a few slaves?"

"Because it's not right," Qismat said simply.

"If I have the money to buy slaves, I have the money to pay willing servants to do the same job. Not to mention it's more efficient. Happy people make better, more loyal workers that will go the extra mile because they want to. People who are miserable and terrified of you make clumsy mistakes out of fear or spite or both and poison your food when you're not looking. But most importantly, they're people, and no one deserves to be treated that way."

Qismat rose to his feet and rubbed at his lower back, then stretched until it popped. With a relieved sigh, he looked to Lani. "Speaking of food, dinner should be ready by now, or close enough that it will be by the time we get there." A lifted eyebrow. "Have any room left after you guzzled all that water?"

Once again she found herself staring at him, speechless. Of course to her what he was saying seemed obvious- she was just shocked that it was an Essyrni voicing such thoughts. Were there more people like him? Maybe not everyone in this city was a total bastard...

Shaking herself back into focus, she nodded and stood a few seconds after him. "Uh, yes, I'm hungry." Her stomach actually say up and begged like a dog at the mention of food. Cautiously, the words rusty on her tongue, she mumbled, "Thank you."

Ah, so she did have manners after all. Qismat's lips quirked into a smile as he motioned for her to follow him.

"You're quite welcome," he said, and glanced over at her to give her a quick, sweeping once-over from head to foot. "I don't expect they fed you very well?"

She was muscular, so she hadn't been starved. That was a good sign, and meant she could likely handle the night's meal. Several slaves he'd taken in the past had been so starved they hadn't been able to handle rich foods and had vomited it right back up even though they were famished, and he was relieved to think he might not have that problem with her--especially since tonight's meal was going to be delicious, and what better peace offering was there than food?

And already as they neared the dining hall, the rich, savory smells of cooked meats (quite the luxury!) and vegetables and breads wafted to them.

Lani shook her head slowly, trailing behind him a little warily, eyes darting around. "No. I mean, they had to give me enough to keep me in fighting shape, but..." She shrugged.

As they neared the source of that delightful smell, her stomach rumbled loudly and she ducked her head, scowling at what she perceived to be a sign of weakness. "That smells amazing," she mumbled, actually closing her eyes for a moment to let the scent wash over her.

Real food. Horse Lords, she was practically drooling.

"Oh, wait until you taste it," Qismat said with a devilish smile. If she was practically salivating from smell alone, he was really looking forward to when she actually got to experience it.

He lead her into the dining room, where a long and low oval table was set out and plush cushions for sitting. He had always liked a more casual, comfortable set up. And as for the table itself? It was already teeming with hot, steaming food that the servants were still bringing out and arranging.

There was falafel and hummus and flat bread, stuffed grape leaves, baked eggplant teeming with the scent of garlic and spices and cooked with onions and spicy peppers. There were even kebabs made from lamb--a luxury in Essyrn--and a savory meat pudding, and a tray of local fresh fruits topped it all off. A more elaborate meal than what he normally took, but he did have a guest.

And at the center of the table were pitchers of wine and even a carafe of hot coffee with smaller bowls of cream and sugar.

Looking over at Lani, he smiled. "Dig in," he said, motioning her to sit.

Her eyes widened and she stopped dead. "Horse Lords," she breathed, simply staring at the food.

It was like a dream. She actually pinched her arm to make sure she was awake. When that produced a quick yelp, she looked over at Qismat incredulously.

"I- I can eat any of this?" she whispered, expression a mask of almost childlike wonder.

"Any of it," Qismat said, biting back his laugh; he didn't want to embarrass her. "All of it, even, if by some miracle you can manage that! But!"

And his smile turned playful as he took a seat upon one of the cushions. "Be sure to save some room for dessert, of course."

Lani found a wry grin slipping over her face. "You really shouldn't have said that. I love a challenge."

Hesitantly, she took a seat, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye all the while as she reached for the first thing that caught her eye- a piece of fruit- as if she expected her new master to suddenly tell her she wasn't allowed to eat after all.

Qismat watched her with a raised eyebrow as she so cautiously reached for the fruit, already in the middle of piling his plate high with falafel and meats and bread. Such a modest first choice. He had expected her to go for the more exciting things first--though it was also possible, he realized, that she hadn't seen much fresh fruit.

Or that she still didn't trust him, which he thought most likely.

He took a bite of stuffed grape leaf, sighing at the explosion of spices packed into the rice and peppers. "Have you had this before?" he asked, and casually plopped one onto her plate. A sort of subtle nudge that it was okay for her to eat! "My chef cooks up miracles in that kitchen, I swear."

"Um, no." Lani eyed the leafy thing, then picked it up an sniffed it. Cautiously, she took a small bite.

Her eyes widened, then fluttered closed with a satisfied little groan. "Oh dear gods," she mumbled, taking another bite. "That- what is this?"

"Stuffed grape leaf! It's filled with some concoction of rice and pepper and spices my chef will take to her grave, no doubt. Family recipe, she claims. Oh, but it's not even the best part!"

Reaching over, he plucked up a kebob packed with lamb meat, peppers, onions, and tomatoes and set that on her plate, followed by a hefty serving of falafel and a scoop of that eggplant dish. He sat back again and took a bite of meat pudding, trying hard to hide his smile.

"It's honestly hard to pick a favorite."

Still cautiously, but with growing confidence Lani started to take little bites of everything he put on her plate. She gave soft sounds of appreciation with every new taste, even the ones she normally probably wouldn't have been fond of.

Gods, when was the last time she'd eaten good food? Especially this good...probably never.

Suddenly pausing to breathe, she looked up at Qismat and and swallowed. "Um...thank you. For the food. And...everything."

Looked like food was indeed the way to her heart! Thank Hakeshna for that. He completely understood her fear--he had seen it in many faces--but selfish as it was, it would be nice the day she eventually stopped looking at him like he might hurt her.

He smiled, taking a sip of wine after pouring himself a glass. "It's really no problem. I'm just glad I was where I was," he said, and held the bottle out to her in offering.

"I know this all must be very...awkward and overwhelming for you right now."

She snorted quietly, cautiously accepting the wine and sniffing at it before pouring a small glass for herself. "That's a bit of an understatement," she muttered in agreement.

Mustering up a genuine if rather small and brief smile, Lani added quietly, "For what it's worth, I think I'm glad you were there too."

"I'm glad to hear it," Qismat said, smiling over another sip of wine before he set it down and cocked his head curiously. Sniffing her wine? Did she honestly believe he might poison--oh. Perhaps not poison her, he realized with a sympathetic, sickening pang, but drug her.

He bit back his grimace and kept the pleasant smile on his face, even though his body had tensed at the realization, the knowledge of just what sorts of men a slave--especially a woman--might deal with. Hakeshna, he hoped she'd escaped that, at least, for he'd housed his share of women who hadn't, and had seen first hand the effect it had on them.

It went even deeper than that.

He quickly pushed those darker thoughts from his mind and took another bite of falafel to cool his head. Another sip of wine had him feeling leagues calmer, and he looked back over at Lani as he swirled his wine absently.

"All that aside, I'm sure the biggest question on your mind is, 'what happens next?' Am I correct?"

She glanced up at him, again surprised by his apparent astuteness. "Yes, I suppose it is," she admitted slowly, shoulders tensing a bit as she eyes him warily.

She was half convinced this was where the situation would change drastically.

Qismat cleared his throat, noting the way her demeanor changed. Waiting for the other shoe to drop, no doubt. He knew he would be, in her position.

"Well, several things can happen here, but it depends on you," he said, trying to pick his words carefully. "I bought you, but I have no intention of owning you, you understand? My goal is your safety. I could let you go now, but I'm afraid that if I do, you'll wind up in the same position. You're an obvious foreigner and that makes you an easy target, not to mention you're familiar. I hate to say it, but a merchant prince saved you today, and people will remember your face. My saving you will have made you desirable--because what I did today just isn't done. If I wanted you so badly as to publicly intervene in the middle of a match, well, there must be something to it, see? There must be a reason."

He frowned, realizing he was rambling, and let out a low sigh. Cut to the chase, Qismat!

"What I'm trying to say is that I think, for now, it would be best for you to stay here until this passes. But what I'd really like is to find a way to get you home--if you have a home. Of course, if you have nowhere to go and would like to stay here, you're free to do so. But what I want to stress either way is that you're not my slave nor are you my prisoner, Lani."

She blinked at him, jaw dropping open slightly. Then she shook her head and snapped her mouth closed, a tiny bit of the wariness leaving her eyes.

"I...understand," she said slowly, nodding. "I suppose- yeah, you're right. It's probably best if I stay here, at least for a while."

She didn't address the idea of going home. Her tribe had made it pretty clear that wasn't an option.

Putting that thought from her mind, Lani flicked her eyes up to meet his. "I understand I'm not a slave here-" at least for now- "but I'm...not used to being- well, useless. I'd...feel better if I was given some sort of task, sir."

For some reason, the deferential title came remarkably easy addressing him, when previous masters had been unable to get so much as a bowed head from her without serious effort. With a little jolt of surprise, she realized she was actually starting to respect him, at least a little.

"Ah, ah!" Qismat raised both hands, grimacing at the title--even while inwardly amazed that she'd even called him that at all. "That's...really not necessary. Just Qismat will do."

He'd never been able to get used to that, get used to being called "sir" and "lord" and whatever else people came up with. It was...uncomfortable. Perhaps because at the heart of it, despite his riches, he still felt like the street rat that had clawed and scraped his way through life. He'd spent so much of his youth actively fearing the "sirs" and "lords" of Essyrn that being called that was just...awkward. He put up with a fair amount of it; he did have appearances to keep up, so he grinned and bore it when his employees referred to him with honorifics.

But Lani wasn't employed by him.

Yet?

He sat back in his seat, eyes flicking over her as if assessing her.

"What kind of task would you like?" he asked, head cocked. "What are your skills? Fighting, obviously, so if you liked you could always be a guard, I suppose. But you must have other talents, too."

Lani paused. Her skills? Gods, it had been so long since she'd done anything but fight...

"I'm good with horses," she said slowly. "I'm not sure if that's useful, but I can't really think of anything else I'm...particularly skilled at."

"Actually, that's very useful!" Qismat said, brightening at her words.

"How good are you? Ah, see, the thing is...well, it may not come as that much of a surprise when I say I'm a bit of a soft touch," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I own number of horses and kaadir, so there's always work to be done there, but I may have purchased a particular horse a while back, too. A horse they say can never be ridden. He's skittish, see. Aggressive. The trader said he's a plains pony, but he was captured too old. He could never tame the wild out of him. They were going to slaughter him for meat since they couldn't make a proper horse of him, so..."

He gave a helpless little shrug. "He lives a good life on my property now, and I don't mind not riding him when I have others that do the job. But it would be nice if he didn't try to kill everyone who entered his pen, you know?"

She perked up at that. A plains horse?

The first real smile she'd shown him flashed across her face and stayed there for longer than a few seconds. "I'm good," Lani said bluntly, matter-of-fact instead of bragging. "I'm really good. Even for a Duhjari woman."

"Duhjari?" Qismat repeated, eyebrows lifting with interest. "The horse lords of the plains? You're  Duhjari?"

Lani blinked at him. "Yes," she said, as though it should be perfectly obvious. Expression going blank, she added evenly, "Well, at least I was. Once."

"Ah," Qismat said, frowning as he looked at her, his meal forgotten. He had a hunch as to what her cryptic words meant--that the reason she was no longer Duhjari and the reason she was a slave were connected in some way.

He took another sip of wine. "I won't press you for the details. My ears are always open if you do ever want to talk about it, but I'll understand if you don't."

She was quiet for a long moment, then muttered, "I...appreciate the offer. But it's not important, not anymore."

Her voice was flat and emotionless; it had always been easier for her to think about that particular moment in her past as though it had happened to someone else, and by now she'd gotten to the point where it was almost like she was telling a story, not reliving a memory.

Shaking her head, Lani took another hit of food and said after a moment, "When would you like me to start then, sir- Qismat?"

"So eager!" Qismat said with a grin, happy to move onto brighter subjects; sadness wasn't a good look on her, and he could imagine that she'd had enough of that in her life.

"I like that. But I was thinking you could start, oh...hmm..." A servant caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, and he nodded to her, sending her scurrying back off into the kitchen. He turned his eyes back to Lani.

"Soon. But not yet. I've sent for a healer, and he should be here tomorrow morning. He would have been here sooner, but he had an emergency to tend to, I'm afraid. I won't be letting you anywhere near that horse until you're in tip-top shape. We'll see how you're feeling later tomorrow and go from there? Either way, you should get some rest. I don't imagine you've gotten much of that."

Lani snapped her eyes up to him, a little surprised. "I don't need a healer," she protested automatically, the instinct ingrained in her long before she was sent to the pits- needing a healer was a weakness, she could let her body mend itself.

Dropping her gaze, she added, softer, "I...wouldn't mind some rest. But if the horse is as bad as you say, I'd like to look at him sooner rather than later."

"Oh, well, if you really don't need one, then it'll be a quick visit indeed!" Qismat said, keeping his voice light. No, she was definitely getting seen by that healer; she'd been mauled by a lion! Qismat, for one, had seen what even a cat's scratch could do if untreated. He shuddered to think of what a lion's claws could do.

"Just a quick looking over, that's all. Besides," he said, making a point of glancing at the window, the city darkening outside it, "it's too late to cancel now. Don't worry. Yasri--ah, that's the horse--has been like this all his life, so another day won't hurt things. Oh! Would you look at that!"

Several servants stepped into the room, some carrying plates laden with desserts while others swept in to clear their away dishes. Soon the desserts were laid out on the table: sweet rice pudding with nuts and coconut flakes, baklava, candied dates, and cheese pastries drizzled with honey. Again, more food than what he would normally eat--but he was sort of trying to impress Lani. Ahem.

Opening her mouth to make another protest, Lani suddenly found her jaw dropping as yet more food was arrayed before them. She blinked, utterly stunned, and looked between the collection of sugary magnificence and Qismat several times before she found her voice.

"Do you always eat like this?" she sort of squeaked out, unsure if she was amazed or appalled by the idea.

"Hakeshna, no!" Qismat barked a laugh and pat his belly. "If I did, I think I'd have to roll everywhere I went! Oh, no, I only feast like this on special occasions."

And as the servants once again left them in peace, he lifted his wine glass in a toast. "I figure your freedom is a special enough occasion, no?"

For some reason, hearing it said like that brought the idea home for her in a way that it hadn't quite done yet. Freedom.

She stared at him for a long moment in silence, then slowly lifted her own glass to return the toast, nodding. She didn't say anything as she took a sip, but for just a moment the sharp edge in her eyes softened.

"Then I suppose once again I should thank you for the food," Lani murmured, placing her drink back on the table.

"And once more, your thanks are appreciated!" Qismat said, noting the softness in her eyes--and relaxing a little more himself. They'd made progress here, and quite a lot of it, all things considered!

He finished off his wine and set the glass back down. "But enough thanks. Try some dessert. The baklava is my personal favorite," he said as he picked up a sticky square of it and motioned for her to dig in.

He swallowed down a small bite of it. "After we're done here, I'll show you to your room. I'm afraid it's rather plain now, but we can refurnish it however you like. Just tell me what you want, and I'll make it happen."

Taking a bite of the dessert herself, Lani shook her head at him. She had to wait a moment to chew and swallow- dear gods that was good!- before she could answer him. "That's alright. I'm sure it's fine the way it is."

Even before her life as a slave, she'd been used to living sparsely. Nomads couldn't afford to keep many "things".

"Fine? Oh, no, it's quite barren, actually. I've never gotten around to really doing anything with it, so it has a bed and a wardrobe, but I'm afraid not much else," Qismat said, frowning.

"And if you're going to be here a while, I'd at least like you to live in a place that feels like yours rather than...well, than a glorified closet."

Lani offered a small smile. "I appreciate that," she said quietly. "But really, I don't need much. A bed is more than I could have expected."

She took another bite of something leafy and almost groaned at the sheer delight of eating real food. Good food.

"We'll see about that," Qismat said with a smile as he finished off a piece of baklava. "Perhaps a visit to the market is in order. I know you must be unused to having much, being a slave and all, but your room should feel a little more...personalized than a cell. Besides," he added, giving her a measuring look.

"You'll at the very least need new clothes."

"I...wouldn't say no to that." Lani offered a very small, slow smile. "Thank...you."

She glanced down at herself and added wryly, "And I'm sure you don't exactly want some raggedy gladiator wandering around your home. New clothes might help with that image."

"That is also true," Qismat said with an amused twist to his lips. "It wouldn't look very good if I had one of my own wandering about in rags--even a slave." And that amused smile turned sour, his eyes rolling. "It reflects poorly on the master when the state of their property doesn't reflect their wealth."

He finished off his baklava and licked his fingers clean. "In all seriousness, though, I do want you to be comfortable." He nodded to her plate. "How's dessert?"

Once again, Lani found herself uttering an almost foreign sounding, "Thanks."

She glanced at her own plate- picked clean- and gave him a wry smile. "You know, I think it would've been delicious even if I hadn't been near starving." She dipped her head to him. "Remind me to thank the cook around here."

Qismat bit back his smile. Only hours ago, she'd been spitting mad and grossly impolite and suspicious, and now she was nothing but gracious. Food truly was the most potent magic!

"Oh, you'll have ample opportunity to do just that! But for now, if you're finished, I'm sure you'll want to bathe." He swept his eyes over her and clicked his tongue. "There's nothing worse than sliding between clean sheets when you're filthy. Ah, mind you, that isn't a slight against you. I know those brutes hardly care about the hygiene of the people they're sending into the ring to die."

That made her laugh, even if the sound was slightly bitter.

"Don't apologize, you're right," she chuckled, glancing down at herself. Wrinkling her nose a bit, she glanced around and muttered, "Don't really fit in among all this finery, do I?"

She shook her head briskly, then stood. "Where should I go to bathe...milord?" She still wasn't quite sure how to address him, and she just couldn't quite bring herself to use his name.

"Oh, please! Qismat will do just fine," Qismat said with a laugh, holding up his hands. "Titles are for formal occassions. I like to be comfortable  in my own home."

Rising to his feet, he motioned for her to follow as the servants closed in to clear the table. "You can use my personal bath house. It's right this way, near my quarters and not far from yours. All my staff are welcome to it--it's far too large for just me. But you'll find it rather quiet and private most of the time."

Lani got quickly to her feet to follow him, giving a few awkward nods to the servants. "That's...very generous of you," she murmured as she trailed along behind him.

She was becoming more and more convinced that this was some sort of prolonged hallucination. Or perhaps she really had died in the arena- no, that couldn't be right. Surely she wouldn't go to an afterlife as pleasant as this.

Her eyes started to wander as she followed Qismat. Well, she may as well take advantage while she had the chance, so she figured she should learn the layout of the place.

And there was just so much to look at, she was rather mesmerized.

It wasn't a long walk to the bath house, which was opulent as the rest of Qismat's home--as though having a private bath house weren't impressive enough! Most Essyrni had to use public ones, and baths that used water were, for most, few and far between.

He lead Lani through the arched double doors leading to it and into a massive chamber with a high ceiling supported by ornate pillars. And there, in the center of the room, was a large, clear pool, kept clean by a channel that flowed in and out of the room. Lotus flowers floated lazily on the surface, and the air smelled fragrant, like flowers and fruit.

Qismat stole a look at Lani, trying to keep his face neutral, but inside he was dying to see her reaction. He had to admit, he kind of lived for it. Maybe because he got to live vicariously through those he aided; no one had ever whisked him out of the slums and into opulence. "You're free to visit here as often as you like. Ah, if you've never visited a bath house before, be sure to rinse before you enter."

He motioned to a little room off to the side, which contained a bucket, a scrub, and a grate in the floor for water to drain. "Fill the bucket and use it to scrub off the dirt and rinse, then enter the pool. There's oils and soaps in baskets by the edge, and you're welcome to them."

She actaually stopped dead, he jaw dropping open and eyes wide as she got a look at what he called a "bath" and what she probably would have referred to as a "fancy indoor lake".

"I- this is- ahem. Wow." She blinked at Qismat, and suddenly seemed a little nervous. "Are you, ah...sure?"

She felt very...unclean to be standing in such a place.

Which she supposed was the point, but it still made her fidgety. Although, the water did look awfully tempting- and when was the last time she'd actually been allowed to bathe?

"Well, I wouldn't have brought you here and told you to use it freely if I wasn't sure," Qismat said with an amused smile. "It's here to be used, not to be looked at. Go ahead. Enjoy it."

And then, realizing he was just sort of standing there and her hesitance might be for want of privacy, he cleared his throat and took a step back. "I'll have a servant deliver you fresh clothes, but don't feel like you need to rush. If you need anything, pull that cord over there," he said, motioning to a golden, tasseled rope near the bath's edge. "I have some business to attend, but I'll be about."

"Um... Thank you." Lani hesitated a moment longer, then stepped into the small side room and started stripping, not particularly caring if Qismat could still see her or not. Finally believing she was actually allowed to be here, she was anxious to get in the water.

Even before she became a slave she'd never undertaken the task of bathing quite like this. She supposed it made sense that she had to rinse off first- otherwise wouldn't she just be sitting in her own wet dust and dirt? Ich.

Still, it was a process she was unfamiliar with, and she took her time before eventually poking her head back out into the main room and scurrying toward the pool, submerging herself as quickly as possible. It wasn't so much that she was shy, or the idea of being seen naked was embarrassing- though she did bear an awful lot of scars- it was more the sense of vulnerability that she was uncomfortable with.

However, her brain seemed to quit functioning properly once she was in the water and the oddly soothing, floral scent surrounded her. "Oh..."

Yeah, a girl could get used to this.

Qismat caught a glimpse, but only a quick one--enough to see that wicked scar on her back, and cringe at the thought of how she must have received it--before he peeled his eyes away and retreated. The last thing he wanted was to peep and make her uncomfortable, or take advantage of his station--and her--in any way. Poor thing. He sincerely hoped he could help her, and maybe even see her returned to whatever home she'd been taken from.

Though he also knew, deep inside, that that wasn't always a possibility. Most of his staff were former slaves he'd bought--and while many stayed because they wanted to, because he gave them work and a home and freedom, some stayed because they simply had nowhere else to go. Some had no homes to return to, as the survivors of caravan raids. Some were sold by their own families. Some were criminals, however petty. They all had their stories, and not all of them were happy--of the ones he'd heard.

Some wouldn't even speak of their past.

But for now, he retreated to his quarters to go over his ledgers, and summoned a servant to deliver Lani fresh clothes.

Soon enough, the doors to the bathhouse opened again and a light-skinned, foreign girl stepped inside, carrying a bundle of clothes in her arms. "I'm sorry to interrupt, Miss Lani, but Prince Nejem wanted these delivered to you," she announced as she entered.

"Mph!"

She'd actually started to doze off, which was completely unlike her in such unfamiliar surroundings. Sputtering and blushing, Lani floundered her way to the side of the pool and started to climb out.

"You're not interrupting. Thanks," she muttered, running her fingers through her hair and shaking her body like a dog ridding itself of water.

Her eyes roamed over the girl curiously as she took the clothes and she added in a slightly less hostile tone, "No need for the miss. Just Lani. Who're you?" She started to dress, adding almost as an afterthought, "And where can I find...Prince Nejem?"

She should probably report to him, right?

"I am Bridget, Miss--er, Lani," the girl said, wincing at her slip. It was difficult to break certain habits, and as she had been born and raised in slavery, those habits were ingrained even deeper. It drove Qismat crazy, especially the way she was always flinching and over-apologizing as though expecting to be hit, but she couldn't help it!

"Prince Nejem can be found in his study, Mi--ah, I'm sorry, Lani. But if you have need of him, he doesn't bar our entry, and he won't hit you for interrupting."

The way she said it, it was like it was something she was used to. Something she expected. His was the first home she'd had where she'd never been beat.

Lani tried to smile kindly at the girl as she kept slipping up, but the expression was long out of practice and she wasn't quite sure that she actually pulled it off. "Look, if it's too difficult not to, you can call me "miss" if you want," she offered a little awkwardly.

He wouldn't hit her for interrupting. "Well that's good. Not sure how much of a punch the guy could really pull off anyway," she muttered as she finished dressing. "Thanks, Bridget. It's, uh, nice to meet you."

She tried for the smile again, then slipped out of the bathhouse and went off in search of Qismat's study. She didn't really want to bother him, but she'd realized she didn't actually know where she was meant to be staying in this house.

Qismat was, indeed, in his study, a candle lit on his desk and his cheek cradled in a hand. Currently, he was just sort of staring and the numbers on the page, quietly zoning out.

Once he had become a "prince", he had had to, eventually, learn things like maths and business and how to manage a home, and he had hired a tutor to teach him. Before that, he had hired someone to keep his books for him so he didn't have to--until he'd discovered the man pilfering funds from him from under his nose. No, it was better to learn it for himself, and he had--but that didn't mean he had ever grown to like it or find it anything other than mind-numbingly dull.

And so it was that when he heard someone shuffling outside his door, he snapped upright, eager to for a distraction.

"Yes? Do you need something?" he called out behind him, twisting in his seat to look.

Lani sort of jumped- which was ridiculous, she was the one who'd sought him out- and shuffled her feet awkwardly in the doorway. "I, uh, I was just wondering..."

She coughed and glanced away, a small frown tugging at her brow. "I didn't exactly know where to go, from the baths," she muttered. Her hair was still dripping, which she hadn't actually realized until she noticed a small puddle was gathering around her feet. She swore quietly and tried to hold the choppy, damp mess back with her hand.

"Your girl- Bridget- told me I could find you here."

Qismat's eyes dropped to the growing puddle, and then raised back to Lani's face, an amused look in his eyes as she tried in vain to stop her hair's dripping. Oh dear...

"Did...did you wear those clothes in the bath?"

"No!" She scowled and folded her arms. "Of course not, I just...forgot to dry my hair more, that's all." She huffed and mumbled with a glance at the floor, "Sorry."

Another huffing breath and she tossed her hair- rather reminiscent of a spirited horse, though she didn't realize it. "Just- where am I supposed to sleep? Horse Lords, a body could get lost just trying to find a latrine in this place."

"You'll sleep in your room, of course," Qismat answered like it was the most obvious question ever. He wiped his cheek where some of the water from her hair had splashed. "I've had one prepared for you. When you're ready to retire, all you need to do is ask to be shown it."

He cocked his head curiously. "Were you ready to retire?"

Lani's cheeks colored a bit at the rather obvious answer and she sucked at her teeth, eyes on the floor.

"I- suppose. Sure. If you don't...require anything else of me, sir." She winced a bit internally, feeling awkward and out of place.

"Nothing that I can't do for myself," Qismat answered with a wry smile as he rose from his seat. He motioned Lani aside so he could exit the room, and with a nod her way, indicated she should follow.

"I'll show you to your quarters. It's not much, but as I promised, you'll be able to furnish it later. Right now it's very basic, but I assure you it's at least comfortable and private. If you need anything, you can ask one of my servants, but don't be afraid to wander freely. My home is your home, and there's no room that's forbidden to you. You could even leave if you wanted, but I'd advise against that just yet. Ah, here we are."

Qismat paused outside a door and opened it, revealing a sparsely furnished room--though what furniture was present was elaborate. There was a table and washbasin, a tall wardrobe, and a canopy bed large enough to fit several people, the red, tasseled curtains currently tied back.

"I hope that'll suffice."

Lani gave a low whistle when she saw the room, shaking her head-- not a denial, just a sense of bewilderment.

"Yeah, I think it'll suffice just fine," she murmured, carefully picking her way around the perimeter of the space, checking for any hidden nasties or easy methods of escape. An old habit, almost an instinct, that she didn't even realize she was doing.

Qismat arched an eyebrow as Lani explored her room like a soldier entering hostile territory, and cocked his head. "Mm, last I checked it was also free of booby traps and monsters," he lightly remarked.

She froze, then winced a bit and twisted to face him. "Uh, yeah. Right. Sorry, it's...old habit, I guess."

Lani  shrugged a bit, then allowed her shoulders to relax slightly and moved toward the bed, perching a little cautiously on the edge of it.

Her eyes immediately fluttered closed and she let out a long breath, flipping back into the mattress. "Oh, Horse Lords, that is soft," she sighed blissfully.

Qismat watched her in amusement, though not without a twinge of sadness. The girl had been a slave; she wouldn't know of any comforts. He could relate to that; maybe not to being a slave, but to living a hard life and being mystified by comforts he now took for granted. His old life could have happened lifetimes ago, for how far he was now removed from it.

Poor girl. He couldn't begin to imagine what she'd been through, to make her so hyper-vigilant, but he was glad he could show her some tenderness after all the violence.

"You'll have to tell me about these 'horse lords' sometime," he said with a small smile as she discovered the wonders of an actual bed. "For now, rest well, Lani. You're safe here, and I promise no harm will ever come to you so long as you live under my roof."

"Oh." Lani blinked up at him, pushing herself up onto her elbows. "Well...thanks."

She offered a cautious smile at his comment about her frequent oaths. She couldn't remember the last time someone had actually seemed interested in the things she said-- let alone something that she viewed personally as connecting her to her heritage.

Of course, that thought drew the smile from her lips, and she looked down again, eyes distant. "Yeah. Uh, remind me, I'll tell you about them."

She sighed and laid back down. She couldn't truly relax with someone else still in the room, but it was worlds better than she'd felt it...gods, she didn't even know how long. "Really. Thanks."

"It's my pleasure," Qismat said with a small bow, and then he closed the door behind him and left her to her privacy.

It had been a long day, indeed, and as much as he enjoyed playing the host, he had a few business contracts to wrap up--and a bed that was eagerly awaiting him.

He hoped Farha--his favorite concubine--would be waiting for him, too.

Lani nodded at him again as he left, then flopped back fully onto the bed with a sigh.

She still ached, was still sore, but for the first time in years she wasn't actively hurting. Nor was she hungry or thirsty, which seemed just as much a miracle. In fact, she was almost worried that she'd be too comfortable to sleep.

She needn't have bothered worrying. Within moments, she was unconscious.

Qismat was always an early riser, and he let Farha sleep as he rose from bed for the dawn prayer. He never missed a prayer session, for he owed his life to Hakeshna; she had answered him when he needed it most.

After that, it was his usual routine. Wash, dress, take care of pressing business matters early so they were done and out of the way, eat a light breakfast. He let Lani sleep, knowing she no doubt needed it, and besides, she would have to get up soon enough. The healer was scheduled to arrive soon--and Lani was just going to have to deal with that! He knew she had to be hurting, but like a wounded animal, she was hiding anything and everything that could be perceived as weakness.

Half an hour before the healer was scheduled to arrive, Qismat decided it was about time. Lani would probably want some time to get decent, or grab a quick meal. Not wanting to be the one to wake her, in case a man coming to her bedroom while she was sleeping would spook her, he flagged down Bridget for the task.

Dutifully, the young woman approached the door to Lani's room and gave a quick knock. "Miss Lani?" she called. "Prince Nejem says it's time to get up!"

Lani jerked awake, rolling off the bed and landing in a fighter's crouch. She winced and cursed colorfully as her battered body protested the movement.

Then she actually woke up, realized she wasn't in danger, and straightened up a little sheepishly. "Oh, uh...thanks. I'm up."

Bridget blinked, hearing a thud on the other side of the door, and then a lot of words that made her face color. That girl sure had a...creative way with words. She cleared her throat and leaned in closer to the door, trying to listen in.

"Is, er...everything okay, Miss Lani?"

"Oh. Uh, yeah, everything's fine!" Lani found herself flushing a bit. The gladiator pits weren't exactly the classiest of places, and it wasn't like her wandering tribe had worried much about foul language.

Seemed she'd better start watching her tongue around here.

Straightening out her clothes as best she could, she moved toward the door and cracked it open. "Uh-- what's going on? ...Prince Nejem need to see me?"

Bridget peeked back at Lani through the crack, eyebrow raised. This girl was...odd.

"He said the doctor will be here soon, so he wanted you to have some time to get ready," she said.

"Huh. Okay. Thanks." Lani nodded to her, moved to shut the door, then hesitated. Was she supposed to invite her in? Send her away? Just shut the door in her face?

Horse Lords, at least in the pits she didn't have to worry about social niceties.

"Is there, uh, anything else, Bridget?"

"Ah...no. That was all, miss," Bridget said. "That is, unless there's anything you needed...?"

She was supposed to be the woman's personal servant, after all. But she wasn't sure how to navigate this. The woman was rough around the edges, sure, but not enough that the awkwardness and vulnerability of being in such a foreign situation didn't shine through, which made for an odd mix that Bridget wasn't used to. Should she leave her alone? Offer to help? She wanted to be useful, but she didn't want to step on any toes.

She was used to serving those who knew what they wanted!

"Anything I need?"

A horrifying realization dawned on her. She blinked. "Um...Bridget...when you said, last night, that Prince Nejem wanted you to...help me out and whatever-- was that, like, a permanent appointment?"

Bridget stared blankly through the crack at Lani.

"Yes. Of course it was. I am your personal servant, after all."

Oh fuck.

Lani blinked at her again, then closed her eyes and bit back a groan.

"O...Kay," she said slowly, forcing herself to just breathe evenly and think. "Do you think I could...talk to Nejem about this? Not-- not you, Bridget, you're lovely, I'm sure you're doing a great job!" she hastened to add. "I just...don't feel comfortable...having a servant?"

Bridget's face colored, shame rising with the flush of heat, and her hands curled into balls at her sides. Oh, the girl had said she was doing a fine job, but that didn't lessen the sting of...of...dismissal. That's what this was, right? She didn't want her as a servant. Wasn't comfortable with her.

"I...did I...displease you in some way, Miss Lani?" she said quietly, speaking past the growing lump in her throat, the panic tightening in her chest. It had been a year since she'd last been beaten, a year since Prince Nejem had purchased her, but old anxieties died hard.

"What-- no! No no no no no no!"

Oh Horse Lords, she was just making a mess of this. What the fuck was she supposed to say!

Lani recognized that stance as surely as anyone who had been or lived around slaves. Carefully, she backed away, hands up peacefully. "Look, this isn't about you. It's me-- I don't want a servant, that's all!"

"But...but Prince Nejem...he appointed me to you," Bridget said, a tremble in her voice. Not rage, but fear. She had never been sent away before. Never been told her service was unwanted. "I-it's my job. My duty. I can't...I can't fail him! Oh, please miss, I promise I'll do better!"

Oh gods I wish I'd died in that fucking circle.

"Okay, okay, it's okay," she babbled helplessly, reaching out and fluttering her hands around Bridget's shoulder. "Look, it's alright, you haven't done anything wrong, I promise!"

A little desperately, she tried, "Why don't we just talk to Prince Nejem about this! It-- it seems like this is just all a misunderstanding, he can probably help us sort this out, right?"

"I-I don't want to make him mad! Or disappointed!" Bridget said miserably, unaware that she was probably painting a very negative picture of Prince Nejem, to be so hysterically upset about this whole situation, and terrified of talking to him. He had never given her a reason to be afraid, and had even reminded her that she was free to leave if she ever desired, but she had nowhere to go and had no other skills, and so she'd chosen to stay.

After a lifetime of slavery, she was stuck; she didn't know what else to be but a servant. And she was always worried that if she did a bad job, maybe he would kick her out, and then she would have nowhere to go.

She sniffed, fighting back tears, and took deep breaths to try to calm down. "You're really not displeased?" she said miserably. "If we talk to him, you won't tell him I did poorly?"

"Of course I won't!" Judging by Bridget's reactions, she would certainly have a few choice words with Prince Nejem, but she wasn't going to say anything bad about the poor girl for fuck's sake! "Look, let's just go talk to him. Really, I'm sure this will...all work out?"

Bridget nodded slowly, cautiously, though she still looked nervous and twitchy. But she stepped back from the door to give Lani space to exit and stood there waiting for her to follow, wringing her hands. "Okay, Miss Lani...follow me."

"Right." Still feeling thoroughly at sea, Lani stepped out into the hall and nudged the door closed behind her, rubbing a little awkwardly at the back of her neck as she waited for Bridget to lead the way. She thought she might be able to get to the merchant's office on her own, but she wasn't sure-- not to mention that would defeat the purpose of this baffling little exercise.

Bridget lead Lani through the lavish halls in silence, far too nervous to speak--and besides, she didn't really know what to say to the other woman. So, she focused on just doing her job and hoping for the best, her head down as she made herself small out of habit.

Before too long, they had reached the carved double doors to Prince Nejem's study. Bridget knocked twice and waited, darting an uneasy glance at Lani. They didn't have to wait long, however, as soon one door opened to reveal Qismat on the other side, dressed casually in a red and white shendyt but otherwise bare-chested.

His expression brightened when he saw that Bridget had brought his guest, oblivious to the tension in the air. "Ah, there you are. Good timing, too. The doctor should be here any minute, now."

Lani felt her jaw go tight the moment Nejem said "doctor", her shoulders tensing up toward her ears. She gave it her utmost not to be obvious about the tension that zapped through her body though, forcing a smile and a nod for Bridget.

"Thanks. Wouldn't have got here so quick on my own," she told the serving girl before looking back to the merchant prince. "Look, I...appreciate it. But I don't need a healer, really. Just give me a day or two taking it a little easy and I'll be fine, really."

She had a feeling he wouldn't take that argument any better today than he had the day before, but she gave it a shot anyway. She really had no interest in being tended to by whatever healer he employed.

Qismat waved a finger through the air, as though flicking her protests away.

"Shh, I won't hear it!" he said, fixing her with a stern frown. "You do need a healer, even if you feel okay--which I don't see how you possibly could! I can only imagine what sort of medical care you received, if any. Oh, sure, a day or so of rest may heal you up, but why wait when you can just--" He snapped his fingers. "--be done with it? Besides, who knows what other conditions you may have? Parasites from dirty food and water, old hurts and discomforts you don't even realize hurt because you're so used to it..."

He steepled his fingers and peered at her curiously. "Or is it that doctors make you nervous?"

The tension in her shoulders ramped up a few degrees and she found herself glaring in his general direction—not at him, exactly, more at what he said.

"And if I don't?" she demanded rather belligerently, almost daring him to say something: call her silly, or hysterical, or tell her that if she didn't want his help she could just get out.

And honestly, if he forced her, she would submit to a healer's attentions. Her aversion was just as much due to her own pride as it was wariness, and she liked to think she was smart enough to recognize it. That didn't mean she had to like it.

Turning her eyes away, she bit out, "I earned my wounds in honorable combat." Well, mostly. "To accept a healer's aid in their recovery would diminish that honor."

Not the whole truth, but all she was willing to tell him just now.

"Is that what they tell you?" Qismat asked with a gently arched brow. "That accepting treatment diminishes your accomplishments? Dear girl...they only tell you that to save themselves the expense of treatment. The richest people are often the stingiest, you know."

Turning to Bridget, he said, "Go and check if our doctor has arrived, won't you?" As she scurried away, he slid back into his seat at his desk, and motioned to a chair on the other side of it. "Feel free to have a sit, Lani. There's hummus and pita, if you'd like." He would be the first to admit he was a bit of a snackaholic; there was rarely a time he didn't have a snack of some sort within arm's reach.

Lani bared her teeth and snapped her head toward him. "They wouldn't bother giving me a reason not to see a healer. They just wouldn't let me. Why bother giving explanations to a slave?" she hissed. "My words are the words of my people."

Although she knew what she had done in the arena was nothing like what her father or even her uncle would have meant when they said them; scars were stories, marks of valor, and she would bear hers proudly--or at least, she would have, had they truly been earned in honorable combat.

The arena was many things...but it wasn't that.

Another low hiss and she glared at the chair he gestured toward, then relented and sank into it with a low grumble. She tried not to wince as she tugged at the slashes across her back. Damn, that lion had ripped in pretty deep.

She didn't say anything else about the doctor--what was the point, if she'd already admitted to herself that there was no honor in bearing the hurts with only the strength of her own body--but she eyed the proffered food as though afraid it might jump up and bite her nose before cautiously reaching out to pick at it.

Even after the night before, she was starving. But she knew if she still had a few days ahead of her where if she ate too much, too fast, she'd just make herself sick.

"...After the healer, what am I to do?" She looked up at him, considering. Trying to understand, to take his measure. She still felt like she didn't understand him, understand why. "If you want me to look at that plains pony, sooner is better than later."

Sigh. Qismat rubbed his temples at Lani's baffling behavior. Never had he ever met someone so stubborn to receive medical care! He wanted to say that her people sounded quite foolish if they believed an infection was more honorable than receiving healing, but he bit his tongue. Cultural differences could make things rather sensitive, and he was trying to get her to work with him here!

He let the quiet stretch a little, steepling his fingers beneath his chin, and Lani soon filled the silence.

"We shall see what the healer has to say first," he said. "If she gives you a clean bill of health and determines no other precautions need taking, then you may play with my ponies until the sun goes down. She's the medical expert, not me!" he said quickly, trying to cut off any protests. "So we'll await her judgment. And after that...I'm thinking, if you have no objections, that we can make that your actual job. Caring for my animals, that is."

There was a knock at the door, and Qismat called for them to enter. In stepped an Essyrni woman, her skin leathery with sun and age.

Lani frowned, opening her mouth to protest anyway, but shut it when he barreled on. She quirk a dry eyebrow when he described what she could potentially be doing here as "playing with ponies", but decided not to comment on that. Not directly, anyway.

"I can do horses," she told him bluntly. "I'm good with horses. Don't know much about any other animals you might have in this place's menagerie or what-have-you."

She might have said more, but then the healer had entered the room and she clammed up abruptly. She eyed the woman like she was a venomous snake of some sort, but didn't give any further protests to her presence.

Well, this wasn't awkward at all. Lani was eying the old woman like a predator, and the healer could only stare back, obviously unaccustomed to the hostility she saw there.

"Ira, my dear, this is Lani," Qismat said, motioning from the woman to Lani. "Lani, this is Ira. She's a fantastic healer and I trust her to take care of you, as she's taken care of me and mine for years. I daresay her skill is unparalleled."

"Oh, enough of that, you know that's not true," Ira said with a good-humored snort and a wave of her gnarled hand. She started toward Lani, a slight limp in her step. "Now, let's get to it, I've got other patients waiting. What are we dealing with here?"

"Cat scratch," Qismat said, and at Ira's perplexed expression, added, "Lion, to be specific. He tore her shoulder up good."

Ira let out a low curse under her breath. "And you lived to tell the tale? Oh, you poor dear. Come, come closer, now. Let me see your wound."

There was an almost imperceptible tremble in Lani's extremities as the old woman approached, but she managed to wrangle the urge to duck away under control before it became too noticeable. It wasn't the healer's fault that she didn't much care for the idea of people touching her.

Because that's what it was, she could admit that to herself. Yes, she did believe that wounds gained in honorable combat should be borne naturally, as her father had taught her--but she wasn't so stubborn as to deny that the arena wasn't honorable combat. It was a good excuse to keep people away from her though.

Ever since she'd been carted into this damned city, a healer had only meant that she was to be patched up just enough to enter her next match. And the healer's employed by the arena didn't exactly have the best bedside manner.

But again. That wasn't Ira. She had no reason to distrust this woman. So she gritted her teeth and nodded to the matron and shuffled a few steps closer, reaching up to tug the collar of her shirt aside so the gouges on her shoulder could be seen. It also inadvertently bared the older, longer scar that started at the back of her right shoulder and carried across the entirety of her back.

"I got lucky," she admitted in a low grumble, with a quick glance in Qismat's direction. "If he hadn't called off the fight when he did, I wouldn't be here."

Ira lifted an eyebrow at Lani's statement, shooting a glance at Qismat. "Another rescue?" she asked, and he just gave a shrug. "You're going to get a reputation for being soft, Prince."

"I'm not concerned." Qismat lazily scooped a bit of hummus onto a piece of pita. "If anyone asks, it's because I saw the pretty foreign horse girl and wanted to add her to my collection. She's more useful in my bed than in a lion's stomach."

The healer snorted and shook her head, turning her full attention onto Lani then. "I'm going to touch your wound," she warned, and hen laid her hands over the nasty mess of shoulder, not in the least bit squeamish or shocked about the sight of it. It was clear she had been in the business a long time, and she had dealt with nastier, weeping, gangrenous injuries. 

As she checked Lani over, she hummed in approval. "Kept it rather clean, that's good," she murmured. "That will make this easier. Brace yourself, girl. It's going to get rather warm, and then you'll likely feel quite tired. That's normal. I'll be using your own energy to patch you." That was the only warning Lani got before her fingertips took on a warm glow as though from within, the light gradually growing brighter until it shone through her skin enough to show every bone in her hand. But just like that, Lani's flesh began to knit back together as though traveling back in time, following the path of the lion's claws but in reverse.

There had truly not been a moment since he'd called off that massacre of a fight when Lani had feared that warming his bed was why Qismat wanted her. But even so, just hearing him voice the idea--even knowing it was simply a cover for any unwanted prying--sent tension zinging through her.

She managed to wrangle the impulse under control in two breaths and just hoped the healer hadn't noticed.

She opened her mouth to say something to the healer about her warning to brace herself--probably something flippant--but before she could actually voice anything her skin began to heat, and then she felt flesh melding back together where it had been torn. It wasn't painful, exactly, but it certainly felt odd.

Lani made a noise that she would be hard pressed later to admit was rather like a cross between a moan and a sigh and swayed slightly on her feet, blinking sluggishly. She was abruptly quite tired.

"Whaa...?" She licked her lips and squinted, trying to focus through the strange haze. Oh, she did not care for this feeling at all. "What did...is that...it?"

That...really wasn't so bad, all things considered. Sure, she didn't like this woozy, groggy feeling, but the healer hadn't actually touched her all that much, and she'd consider that a win.

If Ira noticed Lani's sudden fear, she didn't acknowledge it. More than likely even if she did, she would just have assumed it was discomfort over her current situation. Most folks didn't like having their wounds poked and prodded at, and who liked doctors even if they were the ones to patch you up?

Fortunately, it was a quick and uncomplicated mending. The cuts were clean and even, which meant she didn't have to do much extra work to seal the girl back up. Ira still took a moment to examine Lani's skin, smoothing her fingers over her shoulder lightly, and nodded to herself in satisfaction.

"That's it," she confirmed. "You might still be a little tender for a bit, but that should fade quickly with some rest. Remember, your body just did something that normally takes a good week or so to do--but in the span of seconds instead." She gave Lani a pointed look, because no one ever wanted to do the resting part for some reason, and then crossed over to Qismat as he held a small pouch out to her filled with coin.

It was more than what she charged. But she had been tending to him and his people long enough that it no longer shocked her, and she no longer protested.

"Are you in need of further service?" she asked, and when he confirmed it was enough, they exchanged parting pleasantries before, always quick and to the point, she bustled out the door to attend to whatever other patients she must have.

Qismat rose from his desk and stepped over to Lani, flicking a glance to her shoulder. "There, now. That wasn't so bad, was it? Don't you feel so much better now?"

Lani made a noise that sounded vaguely like "Mmmrrrmmph," and glared at him for a moment before sighing and conceding his point with a slight nod.

"Yeah...I guess so." She glanced down at her shoulder and prodded the newly healed flesh curiously. It certainly felt tender, but it didn't hurt, precisely, which for some reason surprised her.

As though the healer had never given her that look indicating that she should take this seriously and actually rest, she flicked her eyes back up to meet Qismat's and quirked an eyebrow.

"So. Where do you need me?"

She wasn't built to sit still; she needed to be doing something.

Hmm, yes, Qismat didn't think she was the sort to listen to doctor's orders. But now that she was healed and in no danger of keeling over from infection, he felt more comfortable letting her make her own choices like a big girl. If she wanted to push through the exhaustion and deal with the consequences later, well...that was her lesson to learn.

Stretching languidly, he pushed up from his seat and rose to his feet. He dipped a square of pita in some hummus to bring along with him, and then motioned for Lani to follow him.

"I'll take you to meet the stallion. I don't expect miracles over night, so don't work too hard." She was probably going to work harder, let's be real. "His name is Faraj and I was told he's about five years old, give or take."

He lead the way through the maze of corridors that made up his home, finally leading her out a back door and into the heat. Outdoors, there were plenty of native plants and trees to give cover, and the day was overcast, but after coming from his much cooler home, it was pretty nasty.

Just off the side of his home was another building, white just like his dwelling with a roof further protected and insulated with palm leaves. It was connected to a large, well-kept yard of several acres and kept shaded by many tall date palms and smaller fruit trees. The stable doors were open, letting the horses come and go as they pleased--by it looked like they were currently all sheltering in their stables.

Qismat lead the way to one particular stable and pointed to the black horse within. "There he is," he said. "My little terror."

Relieved that he wasn't going to lock her in her quarters or something to ensure she rested, Lani fell into step beside him as he led her through his home and back out onto the grounds.

"Faraj?" she repeated, letting the taste of the name linger on her tongue, making sure she was hitting the syllables correctly. "Does that mean something?"

She'd learned some Essyrni in the last few years, but she was by no means fluent. In fact, she often pretended to understand less than she actually did, just to piss off the pit masters.

That usually hadn't ended well, but the frustration on their faces was certainly satisfying in the moment.

She drew in a deep breath of fresh air as they approached the stables, enjoying the simple freedom of being outside. Outside and not in the damned arena. She was so lost in the moment that it actually took Qismat's voice to snap her back to the task at hand.

"Little terror?" She smirked as she eyed the animal, evaluating. "What's the biggest issue? Does he just not like humans?"

"Faraj means 'joy after sadness', more or less. I thought it was fitting. I don't know his history, but his behavior tells me it wasn't a happy one, and I hope to give him a much happier future."

Even as he spoke, Faraj was watching them from his stall with large, intelligent eyes, though his ears were pinned back in distrust. He snorted, one foot stamping the ground anxiously as they approached, and he turned his back on the two.

"He doesn't really like anyone. He's very...bitey. He plays well with the other ponies, and he doesn't seek violence--see how he simply walks away? He just doesn't want to be touched by people. I've had some folk try to train him before, but..." 

Qismat made a face. "After a couple broken ribs and one nasty bite, I figured it was best to leave him be. I don't need to ride him. I'd just like it if he'd be...kinder. It makes it difficult when it comes to health checks and such."

"Mmmmm..." Lani observed the horse quietly for a few moments, watching the movements of his haunches, how long it took him to unpin his ears--and how he kept them twisted back toward the sound of their voices.

She didn't move closer, but she was clearly addressing the stallion when she called softly in her mother tongue, "I'm not here to hurt you, Faraj."

His ears twitched, then pinned again.

She nodded, considering. Abruptly, she turned to Qismat and said, "I can start working with him now, but you may want to get some distance."

She didn't have to tell him twice. If there was one thing Qismat didn't mess with, it was large, intimidating animals that could crush his skull with a well-aimed kick. Horses. For a man who had so many horses, he would have been lying if he said even the tame ones didn't still make him nervous. 

With a nod, he quickly put distance between himself and Faraj's stable. "You seem very confident," he said cautiously, unable to keep a note of concerned skepticism from his voice. "You've really done this before? On aggressive horses?"

"My first horse nearly killed me," Lani replied bluntly, but in a tone that somehow said she didn't hold the animal any ill will. "He was properly wild—I wanted to prove I could form a partnership with him, as my mother had done with her best mare." She shrugged as she approached Faraj's stall. The horse pinned his ears and flashed his teeth, but she kept talking, keeping her tone low and even—it wasn't the words that were important, so she found herself telling the story as she slowly, slowly moved to open the stall door.

"I followed his herd for a few days, sticking close but not making myself a threat. Eventually, he approached me. It was alright at first, but then I moved too fast—I think I was reaching to fix my quiver, but he thought I was trying to touch him." She smiled fondly in remembrance as she opened the door. Faraj backed up with a low, thrumming sound of warning—but she didn't enter the stall, just took a few steps back and to the side, giving him full view of the opportunity before him. "He lashed out. Would have cracked my skull, but I rolled out of the way. Took a few more days before he was willing to get close to me again."

Faraj whickered softly and she cast her eyes down and to the side with a low sigh, keeping her body loose and relaxed. Cautiously, the horse began to edge his way out of the stall. When she still didn't move near him, he seemed to accept that she wasn't an immediate threat and started to clop off in search of good grazing.

"He was a proud thing," Lani murmured, and took a step after Faraj. His ears flicked back towards her, and she stopped. He continued his meandering search. "Didn't stay with our tribe. I would see him in the springs, though, when his herd would travel through the same part of the plains as us."

She took a sharp step forward, clicking her tongue, and Faraj trotted away a few steps. Lani's pace was even, unthreatening, but unrelenting. She kept following him, keeping a few lengths between them, but persistently behind him.

Faraj at first just seemed confused. He kept glancing back at her, but when she didn't do anything overtly predatory, he started to pin his ears at her and occasionally whip around to move in a different direction.

Lani just kept following. Every once in a while, she would coo or click softly. She seemed to have forgotten that Qismat was there.

And then Faraj bobbed his head, half twisting his neck to look back at her, and she said sharply over her shoulder, "Stay back." Just in case her new employer had thought getting closer was a good idea.

The horse whirled around and charged her, ears pinned and heels kicking. Lani held perfectly still.

Faraj snaked his neck forward—then jerked to the side at the last moment, nipping at the air just beside her left arm.

He circled to her right, watching her, then charged again. This time, Lani took a step toward him, calling a sharp, "Ha!" that sent him veering around her again.

This repeated twice more before Faraj stopped snapping at the air around her, then another time before his ears seemed to start to unpin. It was at that point that Lani seemed to start...directing him. Turning slightly in place so when he cantered toward her—cantered, now, not charged—his veering to the side became more of a gentle curve. And then he was circling her, neck curved. Now, when he started to turn like he was going to run toward her again, she would take that step and say that sharp "Ha!", and he would snort and continue in his circle.

It lasted nearly a full ten minutes before Faraj dropped his head and started chomping at the air.

Lani put her back to him.

There was a moment of stillness when the horse came to a stop. Perfect stillness. Then, cautiously, he approached her back. One step after another, even and measured.

He nosed at her shoulder, and Lani smiled for a moment before she turned her head and exhaled gently over his nose. Faraj snorted and bobbed his head—then spun away and trotted off, flicking his tail.

Lani huffed quietly before she turned and made her way back toward where she'd left Qismat. "It's a start," she said with a small shrug. "I don't know if he'll ever be rideable, but he wants to connect. He's just scared."

Oh goddess, please tell him he hadn't just saved the girl from lions only to send her off into a new arena to get killed by a horse. But Lani seemed so sure of herself, so confident, and Qismat liked to think he knew people enough to recognize someone who would run off to do what they wanted regardless of what he thought about it. Stubborn, so stubborn...but he let her work, even as a spike of anxiety caught his breath as she went into that stall. It was uncomfortable to spectate--but he would not intervene.

She was not his slave, after all.

Lani was speaking as casually as a storyteller around a campfire but Qismat barely heard her. He could focus on little else but she and Faraj, while mentally running through some quick worst case scenarios and regretting sending the healer away. From what he did catch of her tale, though, he was grateful at least to hear she had quick reflexes. 

Hopefully captivity hadn't dulled them.

Out into the yard they went, and so far so good, Lani was still unscathed. This seemed better than the stall; both of them had more space. But true to Qismat's observations, Faraj largely just wanted to be left alone. He wasn't a bad horse and he knew it, he wasn't mean because it was his nature, and he clearly didn't want to start a fight--though Qismat knew from past attempts that he would gladly finish it. He kept his distance while Lani calmly followed, and Qismat hardly realized she had stopped talking as he was gripped with both curiosity (what was her plan, exactly?) and unease.

When Lani told him to stay back, he didn't have to be told twice; he hadn't moved from his spot.

And it took everything in him not to shout out when the horse charged her.

And she just took it with stillness.

Qismat didn't realize he'd brought his hand to his mouth until his fingertip stung, because he'd bit the nail too close to the quick. Faraj hadn't hurt her; it had been a warning, a feint. But again and again he charged, and each time he braced for a disaster that didn't come until, finally, Qismat let out a held breath and forced himself to relax. Faraj didn't want to hurt her, but more than that, something was happening between the two of them. The charge was becoming more like a dance, Lani less a passive participant and more of a leading role, calmly assertive and confident. Faraj's ears were no longer pinned, and...was she directing him, now?

He watched the two, no longer tense with anxiety and more just...curious. There seemed to be an understanding between the two of them as they spoke a language he couldn't understand--plains girl and plains horse.

Hmm...

Stillness soon followed, and then the impossible: Faraj reached out to Lani.

And then he was off, and the magic dispelled.

Lani returned, acting for all the world like she hadn't just faced down a thousand pound beast that could stomp her into a pulp if she looked at him wrong. He let out a held breath as she spoke, nodding--scared, right, well he had scared the shit out of him for a moment there!--and for a moment he said nothing, seeming to mull something over.

"Do you want him?" he said at last.

Lani was looking back over her shoulder, keeping a casual eye on where Faraj had gone. Much the same way the horse was doing with her, flicking his ears back in their direction every so often but otherwise seemingly content to rip up clumps of grazing and swat flies with brisk snaps of his tail. 

"Hm?" She looked back to Qismat, clearly distracted--and then the realization of what he'd just said seemed to hit her like a lightning bolt. The change that came over her face was immediate and drastic: eyes going wide, lips parting, all the harsh edges and lines of her semi-permanent frown smoothing out to be replaced with sheer shock. 

She tried to shutter it as quickly as she could, but there was still at least one long breath where she just stared at him. 

She cleared her throat and looked away. "I don't--ahem." Oh sweet gods. Was she tearing up? It felt like she was tearing up. "I'm not sure that horse will ever properly belong to anyone," she forced herself to say in as dry and even a tone as she could manage. 

Did she want him? This terrified, desperate creature wrenched from his home to suffer through only the gods knew what sort of torment before he miraculously found himself here, under the inexplicably kind eye of this soft merchant prince?

She didn't want this horse--she was this horse. And that feeling of connection was both a draft of water in the desert, and a blade into her spine. 

She was really, really worried that she might be tearing up...