[ Salem seems absolutely delighted by this information, and as she takes her bath, she’ll ask Ozma about all the other soaps too, happily offering them up to him to inspect, not at all concerned that she might seem silly or annoying. After their bath and breakfast, Salem is absolutely full of energy, and while she keeps close to Ozma as they venture out into the village to buy clothes, she does seem a lot less nervous. She’s learning quickly about her new world, and by the middle of the day, she’s able to make simple transactions with shopkeepers and hold short conversations with some of the less intimidating people in the inn.
She’s very happy to be seeing and learning what, to her, is so much. She’s happy with her new clothes, too: the shopkeeper might have been a little confused when Salem requested he show her clothes fit for “walking and adventure,” but she’s managed to obtain a grey pair of slim pants, a few periwinkle tunics of similar make to Ozma’s, and a gown for daytime and a gown for sleeping. She chooses soft, cool colors that pick up the blue in her eyes, and she seems more at ease in her new clothes than she did in the dress her father gave her.
As the day wears on, it becomes clear that Salem very much enjoys venturing outside the inn. She is having a lovely time learning about the world. She is happy enough to be breathing fresh air. So, after their tour of the village is done, Salem and Ozma decide to explore a little more of the surrounding meadows and farmland, instead of heading straight back to the inn. They bring a dinner in a basket and a blanket, and Ozma leads the two of them to a different rolling field, this one full of small wildflowers -- daisies and the like. Salem gasps, as she tends to do, when they arrive. She has never seen so many flowers at once before, delicate and soft and beautiful.
Cautiously, to Ozma: ]
Will the flowers be alright if we step on them?
[ She doesn't know! She doesn't want to hurt them by mistake! ]
[ The new clothes suit her beautifully. This is, genuinely, the best day Ozma has had in... a very long time. He has returned from campaigns to fanfare and rejoicing, and by comparison, the excitement in this little village is nothing more than a mild chatter of gossip. But Salem's delight at every new thing— the way she stops to admire every colorful little moment he wouldn't have even noticed— warms him like sunshine. His face hurts with smiling.
So he laughs, not unkindly, as she turns to him to fuss over the flowers. He has the blanket folded over his shoulder and the basket on his arm, his staff and armor left behind, and there is something so freeing and safe about this moment it feels like yesterday's battle is a world away. ]
These little ones should spring back unharmed. And they will still grow back, year after year.
[ He shifts the blanket on his shoulder so that he can reach out for her hand. The sun is beginning to set, and it casts the flowers in a warm golden glow. He will lead them through it, up the gentle rise of a little hill, to spread the blanket. ]
[ Ozma laughs, and Salem smiles back. She likes it when he laughs. Salem takes his hand; she likes that even more. She has touched Ozma a lot, throughout the day -- at least, a lot by her standards. A lean against his shoulder here, a brush against his fingertips there. The touch has a language all its own. It says: I am here. I trust you. I like you. ]
Oh, good.
[ Now that the safety of the wildflowers has been established, Salem happily follows Ozma up the hill. She lets him set down the basket and spread out the blanket before grabbing his hand again, and pulling him down onto the blanket with her. Salem has no time to waste! She would like to lie down in a field full of flowers right now, please!
Salem's grin is mischievous and playful, almost teasing, when she's so adamantly requesting Ozma's presence. But once she's lying down on the blanket properly, and he's settled on the blanket beside her, she rolls over, plucks a single flower, and rolls back to face Ozma. She holds the tiny flower out to him, her expression now earnestly open and soft. ]
Here. This is for you.
[ Salem says this with the same gravity that she used to compliment Ozma's soup. This is a gift. That's important. ]
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no subject
She’s very happy to be seeing and learning what, to her, is so much. She’s happy with her new clothes, too: the shopkeeper might have been a little confused when Salem requested he show her clothes fit for “walking and adventure,” but she’s managed to obtain a grey pair of slim pants, a few periwinkle tunics of similar make to Ozma’s, and a gown for daytime and a gown for sleeping. She chooses soft, cool colors that pick up the blue in her eyes, and she seems more at ease in her new clothes than she did in the dress her father gave her.
As the day wears on, it becomes clear that Salem very much enjoys venturing outside the inn. She is having a lovely time learning about the world. She is happy enough to be breathing fresh air. So, after their tour of the village is done, Salem and Ozma decide to explore a little more of the surrounding meadows and farmland, instead of heading straight back to the inn. They bring a dinner in a basket and a blanket, and Ozma leads the two of them to a different rolling field, this one full of small wildflowers -- daisies and the like. Salem gasps, as she tends to do, when they arrive. She has never seen so many flowers at once before, delicate and soft and beautiful.
Cautiously, to Ozma: ]
Will the flowers be alright if we step on them?
[ She doesn't know! She doesn't want to hurt them by mistake! ]
no subject
So he laughs, not unkindly, as she turns to him to fuss over the flowers. He has the blanket folded over his shoulder and the basket on his arm, his staff and armor left behind, and there is something so freeing and safe about this moment it feels like yesterday's battle is a world away. ]
These little ones should spring back unharmed. And they will still grow back, year after year.
[ He shifts the blanket on his shoulder so that he can reach out for her hand. The sun is beginning to set, and it casts the flowers in a warm golden glow. He will lead them through it, up the gentle rise of a little hill, to spread the blanket. ]
no subject
Oh, good.
[ Now that the safety of the wildflowers has been established, Salem happily follows Ozma up the hill. She lets him set down the basket and spread out the blanket before grabbing his hand again, and pulling him down onto the blanket with her. Salem has no time to waste! She would like to lie down in a field full of flowers right now, please!
Salem's grin is mischievous and playful, almost teasing, when she's so adamantly requesting Ozma's presence. But once she's lying down on the blanket properly, and he's settled on the blanket beside her, she rolls over, plucks a single flower, and rolls back to face Ozma. She holds the tiny flower out to him, her expression now earnestly open and soft. ]
Here. This is for you.
[ Salem says this with the same gravity that she used to compliment Ozma's soup. This is a gift. That's important. ]