Alistair found himself outside more often than not. The Compound had become increasingly busy as the weather continued on with people wishing to get out of the cold. He didn't mind it - appreciated the familiarity, in fact - and this day was no different.
It had been just Duncan and he for a good stretch of time, and the sound of a voice was enough to draw his attention to the source. It took no more than a glance to realize something was amiss, if the words weren't enough of a tip already. It was a fact that Duncan surely noticed as well, with how he whimpered quietly and looked up toward Alistair as if questioning what he was to do.
Motioning for the hound to stay where he was - he knew the animal's size sometimes startled others - he approached slowly. "Hello? Miss? Is something the matter?"
"Very," he assured, sincere. Far nicer than most people in Ferelden, that was for certain. Then again, he had been essentially a fugitive for a good portion of his journey. "Everyone helps each other. There's a few grumpy people here and there, but I certainly have come to like it here."
"That is most glorious news!" A grin splits across Miranda's face, her worries banished. She trusts this man, trusts him despite having only just met him. There is something in his kindness that appeals to her which when paired with his manners says that people have it in their better natures to be good. She loves her mother, she truly does, but Prospera warned her of the treachery of men. This, she hopes, is sign that that is not quite true.
"I should like to know any and all sorts of people." After a moment she realises that she has missed one of the more important parts of conversation. She has only ever introduced herself to Ferdinand. Learning the name of another strikes her as being quite odd indeed. "Sir. I do not even know thy name. Is that always how these things do go?"
"You're going to have no problem doing that here."
It was something that he knew he could guarantee, even with all the craziness that seemed to crop up once in a while - the snow being one of them, of course.
"Ah! Right, how rude of me," he laughed. He'd been so busy trying to explain that he forgot all abut it. "My name is Alistair. It's a pleasure, Miss...?
"Always happy to be of service," he replied, waving off the thank you. There was no need - he wasn't the type to just pass up someone in need of help. "And just Alistair will do."
"Alright," Miranda says with an emphatic nod. It is as if she is locking it away in her memory. A simple name, lacking in title or other ornaments. It does seem to be a bit plain, but she has been lacking in status for much of her life that it suits quite well.
"Are the people here layfolk or are they gentlemen and women?" It is something that she needs to know, less she embarrass herself with her less than courtly ways.
"Well, it's a mix, I think," he replied, trying not to think about the fact he wasn't exactly a layfolk himself. "Everyone is equal here. Well, there are a couple of people who are elected to take care of the affairs of the island, but they're not too elevated above others. They're there for practicality sake, I suppose."
"Equal." Miranda repeats the word, savouring it as it rolls across her tongue. She knows what it is mean to mean, but also knows how it is often neglected in the process. Her mother had held title and rank, but had been less than equal to her father and more than equal to other women in their world. There are a great many men who serve others and those who are served. The notion of equality is one that seems very far away.
"Tis something the philosophers of Greece and Rome would say. A folly, but a worthy hope. A true republic. I did not think such things existed."
It was lands he'd only heard about in the class he took on Earth history. It was strange, though, for her to expect magic when all he knew of Earth said it didn't exist there. He did not question it. It would probably only lead to him being confused.
"Well, it seems to be working out all right for everyone. I've no complaints myself. All give and take as they need and it seems to have been that way long before I appeared here myself," he said with a quick smile. Up ahead, Alistair saw the large, prominent building they knew to be the Compound. He motioned toward it with one hand. "There is our destination."
"Oh." Her breath is a cloud of fog in front of her. It hangs there for a moment as she stares up at the building that she has been led to. It is nothing like the ones that haunt her memory. It is imposing, to be certain, but in all together a different way.
"Do all the people live here?" She thinks it might be possible, despite not knowing what it looks like on the inside. It could be a frightful place, but she hopes it is not so. "I thought I did see houses of a sort."
"Only some, while others choose to live in the homes you saw," he replied. He didn't actually know how many stayed there, truth be told. It couldn't be many with how many huts seemed to dot the roads, or perhaps there were far more on the island than he had thought there were. "This is more for the basic needs - meals are served here, for example."
He held open the door for her once he jogged up the few stairs to the door. "After you."
Such courtesy is easily met. Still holding her coat around her, she walks gingerly up the steps, feet stinging from the cold snow and ice she had been walking in. The moment she steps through the door she is met with a blast of warmth. Immediately she feels better, seeming to spring to life once more. While the outside had been quite pretty, Miranda had been in no condition to truly enjoy it.
"Thank you once more," she says turning to face Alistair in the doorway. It is taking all her effort to keep her attention him. Never in her life has she seen such a place, not back on her island or during her childhood. "Such a place. I can see why they wouldst wish to have their own place to retire, but oh."
After Duncan followed her in, he closed the door behind them, admittedly glad for the warmth himself. It was amazing what the lack of one layer did in terms of keeping the chill out.
"Into the rec room," he told Duncan. "And don't get into trouble."
He barked once, then trotted off toward the room. Alistair turned to the woman then, offering her another smile. "Please, think nothing of it. Would you like some tea? It's about the only thing I can make that won't end in fire and tears. We can sit and I'd be happy to answer any other questions you may have."
It has been years since she has had real and proper tea. There is little wrong with that which her mother magicked to them, but she longs for the tea of her childhood. Even if this tea is nothing like what she knew before, she misses the gesture. The simple act of pouring hot water over leaves, the rhythm of slowing sipping. It is just what she might need here.
"I would not like to see fire nor tears," she says with a wide smile.
"Good. It's an ugly sight, especially the latter."
He led her into the kitchen, the strange eating table not making him double-take any longer. He'd gotten used to how the island now looked, even though he knew it wouldn't last much longer.
"Sit wherever you wish," he told her as he went to grab the teapot to fill it with water.
It had been just Duncan and he for a good stretch of time, and the sound of a voice was enough to draw his attention to the source. It took no more than a glance to realize something was amiss, if the words weren't enough of a tip already. It was a fact that Duncan surely noticed as well, with how he whimpered quietly and looked up toward Alistair as if questioning what he was to do.
Motioning for the hound to stay where he was - he knew the animal's size sometimes startled others - he approached slowly. "Hello? Miss? Is something the matter?"
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"I should like to know any and all sorts of people." After a moment she realises that she has missed one of the more important parts of conversation. She has only ever introduced herself to Ferdinand. Learning the name of another strikes her as being quite odd indeed. "Sir. I do not even know thy name. Is that always how these things do go?"
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It was something that he knew he could guarantee, even with all the craziness that seemed to crop up once in a while - the snow being one of them, of course.
"Ah! Right, how rude of me," he laughed. He'd been so busy trying to explain that he forgot all abut it. "My name is Alistair. It's a pleasure, Miss...?
Reply
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"Are the people here layfolk or are they gentlemen and women?" It is something that she needs to know, less she embarrass herself with her less than courtly ways.
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"Tis something the philosophers of Greece and Rome would say. A folly, but a worthy hope. A true republic. I did not think such things existed."
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"Well, it seems to be working out all right for everyone. I've no complaints myself. All give and take as they need and it seems to have been that way long before I appeared here myself," he said with a quick smile. Up ahead, Alistair saw the large, prominent building they knew to be the Compound. He motioned toward it with one hand. "There is our destination."
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"Do all the people live here?" She thinks it might be possible, despite not knowing what it looks like on the inside. It could be a frightful place, but she hopes it is not so. "I thought I did see houses of a sort."
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He held open the door for her once he jogged up the few stairs to the door. "After you."
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"Thank you once more," she says turning to face Alistair in the doorway. It is taking all her effort to keep her attention him. Never in her life has she seen such a place, not back on her island or during her childhood. "Such a place. I can see why they wouldst wish to have their own place to retire, but oh."
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"Into the rec room," he told Duncan. "And don't get into trouble."
He barked once, then trotted off toward the room. Alistair turned to the woman then, offering her another smile. "Please, think nothing of it. Would you like some tea? It's about the only thing I can make that won't end in fire and tears. We can sit and I'd be happy to answer any other questions you may have."
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It has been years since she has had real and proper tea. There is little wrong with that which her mother magicked to them, but she longs for the tea of her childhood. Even if this tea is nothing like what she knew before, she misses the gesture. The simple act of pouring hot water over leaves, the rhythm of slowing sipping. It is just what she might need here.
"I would not like to see fire nor tears," she says with a wide smile.
Reply
He led her into the kitchen, the strange eating table not making him double-take any longer. He'd gotten used to how the island now looked, even though he knew it wouldn't last much longer.
"Sit wherever you wish," he told her as he went to grab the teapot to fill it with water.
Reply
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