[open] nothing can break

[altusimperius]

WHO: Benedict and yoooou
WHAT: The princess is dealing with a lot right now. Help him (or make it worse)
WHEN: Kingsway
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: will add warnings as needed

I. Around and About

Things are strange these days, but at least Benedict has a job. Being the chamberlain means it's his responsibility to see that guests are comfortable, which means suddenly a goodly portion of the rooms in the Gallows towers are under his care.
As few expected, he takes the job seriously. With his board and his quill he moves from room to room on a daily basis, glancing over those unoccupied and ringing for service in those that have borne guests, making sure their sheets are turned down and their curtains arranged at the most pleasing angle for their return.

He can be found pacing the halls at these times, his step brisk and his brow furrowed in concentration.


II. The Library

And then there are the times he sets aside each day to do research alone; what he's studying isn't obvious, and he's not especially forthcoming about it, but it's a fair number of medical and magical texts that he seems to pull from the stacks.
When not actively reading, sometimes he's just sitting by one of the big windows, cup of tea in hand and gaze distant.


III. Sloppy Bitch O'Clock

Perhaps the reason Bene is keeping so busy, or at least one of them, is that there have been a lot of recent events giving him feelings and problems he doesn't know how to handle. Being aloof means there isn't a lot of opportunity to work things out with friends he doesn't have, and one night something just crumbles.

He's in the Hanged Man (if you're going to do it, why not do it right), already several drinks in and draped over a chair by the fireplace, waxing poetic about how important he is in Tevinter, how he'll be a Magister someday, maybe once all this madness is worked out.
It's frankly a miracle he hasn't been shivved yet.


For Kitty

It's time to pick out new curtains for some of the guest rooms, and Benedict is in Hightown Market wearing his fancy important person clothes while inspecting the goods at a textile stand. He looks up for a moment and, catching sight of Kitty, gives a smirk and a roll of his eyes. Oh hey.

Comments

[shri]

"Because you make it easy. Squalling with your titles like you ever deserved them simply for existing."

The cup is filled up with milk, only it is rich and yellow, and has a strong smell of something warm and spiced. Ginger, particularly, and turmeric as well, and some honey. The plate is filled up with flatbread. Nothing grand, not fancy. A simple, hearty meal to help mop up the alcohol in his stomach. But she doesn't look as she works and speaks, and nor is her voice cruel. Just measured simple to each item and matter of fact to it.

[altusimperius]

Squalling?

"Don't speak to me like that," he whines, incredulous, making an uncertain face at the plate as he watches her prepare it.

[shri]

"What? Like your equal?" As she turns back, her eyebrow lifts, her head tilting with the moment. A smile that plays lightly there that, go on, tell her she's wrong with that whine in your voice.

"If you will let me be so bold," the way it is said, that there is nothing he can do to stop it. "I do wonder as to what they teach you magisters other than your entitlement to those around you."

[altusimperius]

Deciding to sulk preemptively instead of falling into that trap, Benedict just shakes his head with a dark glare and investigates the bread, taking a small bite of it to find that it is not in fact poison. Still, he can't look too appreciative.

"I won't," he grumbles-- as in, he won't let her be so bold-- but follows up with nothing. He just doesn't want her to keep going, because he's clearly already been through enough and the woman is tormenting him for no good reason.

[shri]

"Of course, it is your misery."

She sits across from him, in a chair she swivels around to sit on. Her ankle propping up on her opposite angle, leaning back, her hands resting on the top of her thighs. Relaxed, calm and mostly unphased to the worst of his bad mood. "For instance, I wonder if they teach you: that respect, and friendship with it comes with the weight of your own actions. That sitting around, getting drunk, telling everyone near to you that you are so important, will not only get you mocked behind your back but undermine you politically in the position you will one day have no escape from."

[altusimperius]

"Oh don't start," Benedict sneers, with more venom than frustration, "Don't try to lecture me on-- on all that, I've heard it before and it always ends the same." As he talks, something begins to break through, no doubt due to the drunkenness: it's weak and pathetic and desperate, and his voice breaks once or twice even as he rants.

"It doesn't fucking matter, because the only one who-- people who really give a shit, who don't just want to feel better about how smart and good they are, they just--" All of a sudden his eyes are damp. "-- they go and die. Or they were lying."
Angrily, he wipes his eyes with his sleeve.
"So just save it," he concludes, far more weakly, with a touch of genuine distress.

[shri]

As much as she reaches for weapons, she reaches for him now. That flat handed deft way, that she pulls him into her shoulder when the tears start. The soft push back of his hair away from his face so it wouldn't stick. Little boy, little boy lost because no one bothered to show him anything else.

"I know. They go, and you wonder how you poured so much into them when they were going to take so much from you."

[altusimperius]

The embrace is unexpected, the tenderness of it more than enough to push Bene over the edge. He goes from warily snipping at Lakshmi to clutching her tightly, his face in her shoulder, shoulders quivering as the floodgates burst open.

Sometimes all it takes is a hug.

[shri]

It takes her a little off guard, almost, to hug him is one thing, not opposed to it. But when was the last time she watched anyone break down so completely - ( had anyone? Since those days? No, she thinks not, Devi had grown up too hard, no longer needed a mother to push her hair back from her face, and Galahad, only in his fever sleep did he weep over whatever horrors gripped him ).

But they had, once. Enough that instinct is easy to it, how to set her shoulders around him, given him the comfortable space on her chest to lean on. She rocks him, quiet, practised, and without comment. Her hand lifting to pet his head, tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear. The little-murmured words in his ear that aren't this language, her own, but are nothing less than affectionate.

[altusimperius]

Only one other person in Benedict's life has ever comforted him thus: she's miles away, in Minrathous, and also a slave. Up until now, the only person who treated him with the tenderness typically shown toward children has also been, legally, his property-- and in no sane universe would Micaela ever speak against him or stand her ground.
But he loves her, and more now than ever, he misses her. Lakshmi's comforting embrace isn't quite the same, but still does wonders to calm him, reassure him, keep the darkness at bay.

It's after several minutes have passed that Benedict finally lifts his head, slowly and abashedly, coming somewhat to his senses despite his drunkenness. He's already made a fool of himself, that much he knows. With all that's happened lately, it's hard not to worry that this will be used against him.

[shri]

If he's embarrassed, she makes no note of it. She keeps it up, once he's finished with his tears, that same matter of fact order to how she reached for him to begin with when he had begun to crack. She cups his face in both hands to kiss his brow firmly. Little foolish drunk.

Then she reaches for her scarf, moping away the tears with firm thumb strokes from each side of his face. Brushing his hair back so it wouldn't stick to his face and bother him. Next, she reaches for the drink, the strong smell of spice coming from it. No thought to his dignity as she holds it to his lips and gives the one order - "Drink. Little bits at a time or you'll make yourself sick."

Because it does one thing for the ginger in it, it will settle his stomach and stop it him from being too nauseous after throwing up and crying so much.

[altusimperius]

The kiss to his brow, that little gesture, is all it takes for Benedict to now trust Lakshmi completely. It's been years since he got so out of sorts back in Minrathous that Micaela had to comfort him, and here in Kirkwall, for all the seemingly worst traumas of his life, there's been no one.

So the previously whining spitfire thus becomes docile as a lamb, accepting the drink and following Lakshmi's instructions. After several sips of it, he pauses to give a small, almost sheepish laugh: "..it's nice."

[shri]

That warms her, however little, the smile tugging little at the side of her mouth. Shaking her head, finally, he saw some sense in listening, in doing something of what he was told. Amazing how much kindness could do - amazing how little it cost, and yet -

"Good, thank you. I make it myself. Now give me your hand."

Because if he was going to learn the goodness of someone holding his head when he was throwing up, he was going to learn that not all love had to be soft, either. The second that it is presented, she flips it over his knuckles are facing up and she picks the spoon from the side of the plate.

To whack him hard over the back of the hand. Right over the knuckle to really make it sting with one firm strike that doesn't seem to miss in finding the point that it hurts. "That is for falling over drunk in the first place."

[altusimperius]

Blithely, Benedict complies, offering his hand as requested and even watching with vague, comfortable curiosity as Lakshmi turns his hand over. Then, everything changes.
With a yelp like a struck puppy, he draws his hand back to clasp it to his chest, staring at Lakshmi in horrified shock.

"You hit me," he says, his voice pitched higher than usual, fraught with shock and tragedy. how could this happen

[shri]

"Mm, I did. Now finish your rhoti. You'll need sleep before tomorrow. It's your first lesson." She doesn't beleaguer her point. Rather, she finishes pushing back his hair, setting it neatly, and kissing his forehead warmly once more. That little bit of fussing that could no doubt be pretended was a half dozen other things but was here, now, was a warmly exasperated fussing.

"You have a good heart, little fool, but the world will do much worse than a mother's taps. That one is for you to remember it the next time you go drinking, as my mother-in-law gave it to me."

[altusimperius]

The doting motions are still welcome, but now all the more confusing. His hand hurts! How could she!

"I'm not a fool," Benedict says weakly, almost more confused than angry, "...and you're not my mother." He sips at the rhoti again, brow furrowing in a sulk.

[shri]

"No, I think I am rather different to your mother."

She fixes him with a look, but it goes, a little smile that plays as he stubbornly drinks. Glad to see he still was. Something half huffed with a sigh. The way worrying comes half second nature past a certain point. "Do you still feel sick?"

[altusimperius]

This merits a scowl, but Benedict settles in and sips from his drink, brow furrowed and shoulders hunched. She couldn't be further from his mother, but at least she admits it.
"No," he grumpily answers, the cup still at his mouth. Now he's just tired, still dizzy, and... well. Sad.

[shri]

She lets him stay there for the time being. Not fussing over him too much as she changes some of her clothes for cleaner, warmer ones, mercifully free of vomit. But her instructions are simple in the meantime.

"Have another mouthful of both before you sleep. I am glad you like it." A little, lopsided smile. Private, just for the moment. The mean time spent as she sits in a chair, taking off her leather greaves around her legs, dropping them neatly beside where she sat. "It was my boy's favourite when I used to make it for a banquet. He would sook and ask if that even when was married and King, if I would still make it for him."

[altusimperius]

Without fighting the command, Benedict does so, taking a slow sip and letting his mind drift-- until something Lakshmi says strikes him as quite important.
"...King?" he asks, his eyebrows raising.

[shri]

She laughs, her shoulders rolling back. "Did you not know? I was a Queen. That is what Rani means." She hasn't made much of a secret of it when asked, but nor does she make much of a fuss of it. Something she figures is a self-evident truth given everything that had just passed.

"My husband was - Raj. King. Or Maharaja, Maharani, if we were to be... particular in the length of it."

[altusimperius]

He obviously had not known this, and Benedict is flabbergasted. A queen? But that-- that means--

He just stares at her for several long moments, clearly having trouble processing this information while in his drunken state. That technically means she's not only way more important than him, but, Maker forbid, more important than his mother.

[shri]

She doesn't make much of a note of his concern presently - she's busy folding the material of her jacket. Smoothing it between her fingers, neatening everything up. Lining edge to edge and flipping it in half over her fingers to hang loose, then again.

With it stacked she cants her head across to him briefly - "If you're finished, let me know. I'll want to clean up."

[altusimperius]

No, what? What??

"But you--" he stammers, looking her over. Where he comes from, important people don't make their own food, fold their own clothes-- "...you raised him?"
It's a sticking point that his drunk mind suddenly can't let go.

[shri]

Lakshmi chuckles, looking over at him with one raised brow. "Don't all parents?" She shakes her head, no, they don't, do they? "Did he have servants to look after him, is that what you mean? Tutors to teach him many things? If so, yes, he did."

The item in her hand folded over, she leans over to the small cupboard to place it away. "He lived a life that was golden, compared to many, that is true. I still had a kingdom to run." She didn't have as much time as she would always like, it's true. But then, if she had, she would not have been Queen and all that had passed the way it did might not have happened as it had.

Too many ifs in that sentence, to bother lingering on it. "But I took pride in cooking his meals and my husband's when I could. It was I, that taught him to ride his first horse, in the evenings I would help him through his prayers to learn them properly, and when he did not want to eat anything but sweets and play, I took him by the hand and walked him through my days so he might understand all men and women had responsibilities and discipline is required by all. I do not like to lead by anything but by example, why would I raise my own child any other way?"