for one day || PRITAM

[LARKEN KINSEY KYNTON]

She had been given the day to herself, and the young maiden couldn't have been happier. She didn't know what she had done to deserve to go where she pleased whenever she wanted, but she was thankful for it. Her spirit had been breaking in the confines of the home she was enslaved in. However, the man who "owned" her was not all that bad. She loved his son, Benjamin, and was happy when she was caring for him. And Jacke had his soft side. Sometimes she had to dig deep for it, but she found it. Like the day he had discovered she had been lashed ten times for her mouth. He had taken care of her back for her, which was much appreciated since she couldn't reach it to care for it. Normally she would have denied him, but this time she hadn't had a choice. She needed it cared for because it had hurt so badly.

Even now the healing wounds stung. But she didn't care. She wasn't going to spend her day of freedom sitting around the house because she was afraid to move. She had been granted a horse for the day as well, which was to her happiness. The horse was a pretty little bay mare named Callista, and Larken already loved her. She had a feisty personality, but seemed to understand that she needed to behave. It wasn't that Larken didn't know how to ride, for she did. But she couldn't take much movement because of her back. The horse had the smoothest gait as well, and Larken couldn't be happier. She had dressed early in the morning, wanting to get out as soon as possible to enjoy the entire day. She had donned gray colored breeches with black boots up to her knees. She had on an ice blue tunic that fell over a gray long sleeved shirt. The sleeves of the shirt were trimmed in black leather to keep her protected when she usually shot her bow. Now it didn't matter, for she was given no weapon besides the knife at her hip.

She didn't care. Larken had grabbed her deep blue cloak and pulled the hood over her long, wavy brunette hair. Her blue eyes were a stark contrast against her paler face. Also, the bruise that covered the left side of her face was quite obvious to anyone who looked at her. It had only grown darker in the span of a day. Ignoring it now, she asked Callista to move forward, and the bay obeyed. Larken was heading out of the lands of Xaranth. The lands were too oppressive for her, and she wanted to breathe the fresh air of the forests of Drasnia. She had gone there a lot when she had been a scout for Altin, for the forests had led her through secret trails that shortened distances. Besides, it was quiet, and she loved it. It was where she was riding now, since it wasn't that far from Xaranth. She had half a mind to run and never go back, but she couldn't leave Jacke's son, Benjamin. She wouldn't abandon him. Sighing softly to herself, Larken slowed Cal to a walk, letting the mare catch her breath and enjoy the scenery. The light snowfall was coating the horse and rider, but neither seemed to mind. As they walked along, Larken tied her reins in a knot and settled them behind the horn of the saddle. In another moment she pulled her hood down and spread her arms out to the side. Closing her eyes, she let the snow fall upon her face, and the small breeze caressed her cheeks. She was free. It was for only a day, but she wouldn't complain. She was free from confinement, and from the harsh hands of the people in Xaranth. Her back still hurt, but she could ignore that now. The day was young, and she was ready to venture forward. Right now however, she was enjoying the snow falling in her face, and even parted her lips to catch a snowflake on her tongue. Once accomplished, a small laugh escaped her and she couldn't help but smile. This was what she had been living for.

[PRITAM JAIR PROKHOR]

The light snow that was falling upon the land brought incredible muse to the young poet that sat under a wilting tree. Pritam dipped his pen into the small vial of ink that he had managed to balance on the frozen ground underneath him. The tip moved delicately over the page of the small book that he had spread out on his lap, containing all his recent work of the last few months. His latest piece was a song about King Xavier of Altin. So far, he was rather pleased with how it was coming along though it still needed a few changes. The flow in some parts didn't quite work with other and that was exactly what he was working hard to correct as he sat under the slow covered tree.

"Dangers untold and hardships unnumbered..."

He sang lowly under his breath, his brow furrowing as he tapped one of his chilled fingers against the book. Dangers untold and hardships unnumbered... He repeated the line to himself multiple times, working hard to pull together the rest of it as quickly as he could. Grey eyes briefly looked up from the book as the soft sound of hooves graced his ears. For a few moments, he simply watched the horse and rider move across in the distance. He was too far away to make out anything other than that and he quickly turned his attention back to his writing.

"For his will to succeed as the greatest of kings..."

The line came quickly to him and he couldn't help but to smile. He liked it. No, he loved it. Once again, he wrote the line in the book, his handwriting as brilliant and elegant as ever. "A name to be carried on the wind," he continued and scribbled the words down. So far, the day was proving to be quite productive. He had nearly finished the song and the flow sounded so much better than the first draft that he had completed days ago. But movement in the distance caught Pritam's attention. His oddly colored eyes glanced up to watch the figure slide down from the horse. He thought he saw a head of dark hair falling over the person's shoulders and naturally, he was intrigued. It was a woman and the world knew just how much they interested him. Quickly, he closed up the bottle of ink and tucked it away into his pack along with the book. Standing up from the tree, he adjusted his gray cloak around him and slung the pack over one of his shoulders.

Before he knew it, he was strolling across the distance toward the woman, careful not to appear as if he were rushing at her to cause her harm. The thought made him chuckle softly under his breath. There wasn't a harmful bone in his body as he despised violence. The only thing of harm that Pritam owned as his own voice, one that had caused many maidens to swoon and give their hearts to him. Words were a powerful thing, especially when paired with wit and charm.

"M'lady?" He approached cautiously, a soft smile on his face as he stopped about a dozen feet from her and bowed ever so slightly. "Are you in need of a-" He cut off, and his smile faded as he saw what appeared to be a bruise on her face. His stomach churned. His anger boiled. No woman was to ever be hit, especially one with such delicate beauty. It was against everything that he had ever been taught. "..assistance..." he finished, though the happiness in his voice had suddenly changed. It would be impossible to keep a happy tone when such an awful thing had clearly happened to the lovely lass before him.

[LARKEN KINSEY KYNTON]

Being out of Xaranth was enough for the young woman. She felt as free as she was before she had been ambushed and captured that fateful day. For a moment, her mind clouded over with flashes of images and memory from that time. She had been scouting for the army, which was her assignment. They had told her to get in and get out as quickly as possible because they didn't trust the lands. They had wanted her word that she was alright going in on such a dangerous mission. She was. She wouldn't turn it down for the world. Scouting was what she did best. She could track after a trail had gone almost cold, and she knew what to do when it came to spying. She had been extremely successful, until that day. That day no one knew what was to happen. The army had gotten false intelligence from a man on the inside of Xaranth. They were supposed to send half of the army in. Instead, the general had sent one scout in, just to make sure everything cleared.

And it was a good thing he had, for Larken had been ambushed as soon as she had stepped foot onto the territory with her horse. Her horse had been shot from beneath her, and she had almost faced the same fate. The soldiers had told her it was her looks alone that saved her life. Larken didn't want to relive the captivity she had undergone until Jacke had purchased her. Furrowing her brow, she tried that word out once more. Purchased. She was an object to be bought and sold, to be traded and bartered with. It angered her beyond all means. And what angered her more was that the Altin army hadn't even tried to get her back. They hadn't even tried to see if she was dead or alive. They hadn't cared. She was just a woman. A woman that was at their disposal. In a sense, she had been a captive to them too. Clenching her teeth at her realization, she put a hand on the bay mare's neck. Callista had sensed her uneasiness and had tossed her head, prancing sideways in fear of danger.

Larken had quieted her with a steady hand, and figured this was just as good a place to get off and stay for a while. It was a quiet area, and she appreciated it's beauty. Anyone with eyes could, and should. She had chosen this place because it was the one place she had wanted to see on her day of freedom. She was a slave, and had a feeling she always would be. These days of freedom granted would be her savior. Larken wasn't the type of person that could stay in one place, or inside for long periods of time. She never had, and that was a habit that had stayed with her. But she was outside now, and she couldn't be happier. The small smile on her pale face was obvious to anyone who was watching her. She patted Callista's neck and then gave her head to pick at the ground or drink from the stream a few ways ahead. The mare was content to stand however, resting from the long run that they had previously come on. Larken smiled, liking the mare more and more. Maybe she could talk Jacke into letting her keep her. The mare was too small for him anyway. She was about to turn and investigate the area, but was suddenly aware of soft footsteps.

Fear crept through her instantly. Now, Larken was brave, but considering her past experience, she was a bit more on edge. Her hand flicked to her belt immediately as she turned, ready to draw the dagger should it become necessary. And this is why she needed a bow and a quiver of arrows. She would work that into the deal as well, in case she ever ran into danger. Larken was sure that Jacke wouldn't appreciate her being taken by someone else. However, when she turned, her eyes were met with the form of a rather handsome man. Larken didn't swoon at his feet though, for she would be different from all the others that he had met. She stood her ground, her eyes filled with wariness and suspicion. Watching him for a moment, she saw the warm smile upon his face, but it still didn't relax her. She wouldn't be relaxed for a little while, until she gaged his character a bit better. His faltering words sent her on edge, and she looked at him strangely.

"I need no assistance good sir. Why do you falter?"

She was the kind of girl that got straight to the point. It didn't cross her mind that her bruise would be bothering. Why would it? It didn't bother anyone else really. It was a good thing he couldn't see the mess that her back had become from the whipping or he might be rather angry. Larken waited now, wondering what he would say. She wasn't ready for a fight, but he wasn't armed, and he didn't look to be violent. She hoped not anyway, for she was much too weak to survive in a fight. She kept her ground however, wondering why this young handsome man had even bothered approaching someone like her in the forest. She wasn't anything special, and it confused her.

[PRITAM JAIR PROKHOR]

Pritam's facial expression remained a mix of both sadness and curiousity as he looked upon the young woman. Too many times had he stumbled upon sights such as this, where delicate beauties had fallen victim to the brutality of men. It was things like this that made him ashamed to be a man, though he would never dare to lay a hand upon the precious females of the world. He could not take his eyes off of the bruise that plagued her pretty face and as she spoke, he nearly frowned. Was she in denial of an abusive relationship? Or did she just happen to find herself in a one time thing? He was curious but he wouldn't pry. It was not his buisness no matter how much he wished it to be.

"The bruise upon your face," he started, his voice soft and cool as he paused to take in a long, cool breath of the winter air. "It pains me to see such a thing on a woman." His voice was strained and it was clear on his face that he was speaking only the truth. His pure love and gentleness toward women was something he had learned as a child after seeing how his father acted with his mother. Their relationship was tender, loving, and passionate and though Pritam wasn't particularly close with his father, he would always respect him for that very reason. But one thing that did please him was the way the woman held herself. It was unsafe for a young woman to travel alone, especially one that was more that easy on the eyes. There were too many men in the world that would take advantage of a situation like this. To see a woman who appeared cautious, a woman who probably had a dagger or short sword hidden under her cloak, was a pleasant surprise. He himself had no weapons on him, as he relied on his words to get him out of sticky situations.

"It is no buisness of mine but may I ask who has harmed you in such a way?" He questioned with concern written all over his slightly scruffy face. Though he couldn't do much about the man that had hurt her, he was a deep man and he knew how much talking about something could make things a little better. But if she didn't wish to talk, he would not press. He had learned long ago that no meant no and he respected that in any situation. For a moment, he let his gray eyes drop to the frozen ground below, his mind lingering on the man that had harmed the woman before him. It pained him to know so much violence was plaguing the world. It pained him more to know that no matter how many stories of love and friendship he sang, pain and suffering would always exist. There would never be the perfect world that he dreamed of.

It was in this moment that he had realized he hadn't properly introduced himself. His gray eyes darted up and he forced a smile on his face. He pulled himself into a slight bow once again and extended a gentle hand to the woman. "Forgive me, for I have not properly introduced myself. My name is Pritam Prokhor...but most call Bard." His name made him want to cringe. He never enjoyed it. Children teased him when he was younger and though he tried not to care about it, it still annoyed him. It was so simple and yet so odd. But he would deal. Just like he dealt with the sadness and sorry in the world.

[/blockquote]

[LARKEN KINSEY KYNTON]

She watched him for a moment, trying to decide whether or not she should turn and get away while she still could. She wasn't going to take advantage of the little strength she possessed. She was also no longer in the shape she had once been while she was working for the army. When she was a member of it she had been able to train and to spar with the men. She had been fit. Now, she was thinner than she had ever been, and what little muscle tone she had left was fading slowly because of her slavery. Larken couldn't work with a bow and arrow any longer, and she could no longer wield a sword. She was afraid that those skills would be foreign to her if she ever escaped this life. Larken wanted to be free more than anything. She wanted to go back to the Altin army and make them see that she was strong enough to survive. She could make it on her own without the help of a man in her life. Sighing softly, she looked to the man in front of her, noticing the sadness in his face as he looked upon her.

The last thing she wanted was some strange man's pity. Larken's eyes flared with a fire and spirit that many young women her age didn't possess. But Larken was the kind that would never be broken, as long as she was given her one day of freedom a week. It would get her through. However, she hated when people felt sorry for her. She had done this to herself. She had forgotten herself in the presence of a Lord, and he had not appreciated that from a slave. For some reason, she didn't want this man knowing she was a slave. She wanted to be known by someone as a free individual, even though it was nothing but a lie. Larken didn't care. She would avoid letting him know her true story for as long as she could. She would never let him see her wrist, for on it was the Xaranth symbol for slave. She didn't know if he would recognize it or not, but she would take no chances. Watching him, she heard his blunt words. The bruise on her face. Right. She had tried to forget about it. At his compassionate words, she looked at him in question.

"It is nothing that should pain you sir. The bruise will fade."

She said with a gentle shrug of her shoulders, but that had been a mistake. It was then that she remembered the lashing her back had gotten, and she knew the look of agony had passed across her face. She almost staggered from the abruptness of the pain, and she brought her hand to her back as if putting pressure on the wound somewhere, anywhere, would make it stop. Regaining her composure, she prayed he wouldn't make a scene of that. However, she wasn't sure he would let that slide, considering he seemed rather upset about her face. Her sky blue eyes found his after a moment and she dared him to question her. She figured he would, and she needed to formulate a response. She was worried he would put two and two together though. He seemed intelligent enough, and she didn't want him thinking she was being whipped for some reason. Then that would lead to more questions, and she was afraid that would lead to the truth of her being a slave. Hearing his next question, she furrowed her brow and studied him before answering. He knew it wasn't his business, but yet he asked anyway? And yet, she found she wanted to answer him. What had gotten into her?

"A Lord. It seems that I do not know when to hold my tongue, and he found a reason to teach me that I should learn. Excuse me if I don't stand by and allow myself to be insulted by some pompous idiot who does nothing but orders and insults."

She had spoken out of term again, and for a moment she wondered if she was going to be hit. That was silly of her, considering this man had seemed so devastated by the fact that she had a bruise upon her face. But in that small speech, her defiance, her fire, and her spirit would be known to this man before her. However, she needed to watch her tongue. Bowing her head to him, she spoke up quietly, even though she didn't want to say what she was about to.

"Milord, my apologies. I have forgotten myself once more."

She said, although it pained her. She brought her head up as she looked across at him. He seemed to be a nice enough young man, and she wondered if she was being too uptight. she needed to trust someone, somehow. She was a little perplexed and frustrated to remember her hand was still at her hip, ready to draw her little weapon in case anything happened. She wished it was her sword. Sighing to herself, she watched in astonishment as he bowed before her, extending his hand. She shook her head and stepped back, not expecting or deserving that. He introduced himself though, even though Larken was extremely uncomfortable with the way he had done it. No man had ever bowed to her before, and she was almost afraid she was going to get in trouble for it.

"You waste your manners on me Sir Prokhor. I am not worthy of them, please understand."

It was a little sad that she didn't think she was worthy of his manners, or his kindness. She wasn't used to it, and she believed that somehow someone would find out and she would be punished for not telling this man who or what she was. She was nothing better than a slave, and he, a free man, was wasting his time on her.

"But it is nice to meet you, Lord Prokhor. My name's Larken Kynton."

There, she had told him who she was. She hoped that would be enough. Maybe he wouldn't ask where she came from. Then she wouldn't have to tell anymore lies.

[PRITAM JAIR PROKHOR]

Pritam's lips once again found their way into forming a frown. That bruise would fade, just as she said, but the memories of how it got there would linger on for many moons. But would not argue with the lady over it. It was her bruise, not his to be worrying himself into depression over. His lips parted to speak but the agony that quickly swept across her face at the simple shrug of her slender shoulders cried out to him. His quick mind put two and two together within moments and all color drained of his face. The bruise was bad but lashings? The small meal he had for lunch was quickly making it's way back up and it took all he had not to lose control over his stomach. Dark images of the woman before him being lashed and beated clouded his mind, his eyes tearing away from her for a moment so he wouldn't have to be plagued with such thoughts any longer.

A lord.

He made sense of the rest of her words as he slowly brought his eyes back to her, sorrow in his eyes. "And this lord, whom I do hope happens to eat a few poisonous mushrooms with his next meal, has he apologized for such brutal treatment? Even for a...slave." The last word came out as if he were nearly to choke on it. Slavery. It gave a bitter taste in his mouth and even more bitter thoughts. Yes, he had put two and two together. It was clear she was a slave most likely of Xaranth, the one country he did his best to avoid at all costs. His brilliant mind was able to piece that much together though part of him wished he had not.

Milord, my apologies.

Her words confused him for a brief moment, and it was clear on his face. Was she apologizing for simply speaking truthfully to him? Pritam gently shook his head to the side, a weak smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. "You need not ever apologize to me, for I am no member of royalty or status...I'm simply a teller of stories, m'lady." He replied truthfully. He entertained Kings and Queens, Barons and Dukes...But he was no member of royalty himself. He had friends in high places but he was just a traveling bard looking to use his talent to brighten the lives of those who needed a skip in their step.

Seeing how awkwardly she reacted to his bow, he straightened up quickly, not wanting to frighten her off with his manners. "Any woman of such beauty is worthy of respect. I would be on my knees, though they would get quite cold," he mused, a soft grin spreading across his face. "The pleasure is all mine, Lady Kynton. Your name...it reminds me of..." he began, though suddenly a look of slight mischief came over his face. It was clearly a sign...that he was going to break into song.

"The merry lark she soars on high, no wordly thought o'ertaker her," he began, his arms opening in a way of pure expression. Hopefully, she wouldn't laugh at his attempt to cheer her up a bit. "She sings aloud to the clear blue sky and the daylight that awakes her..."