though he is strange to her, unfamiliar as the ground she walks on, his presence is somewhat soothing… when she says she had never been alone, it was no exaggeration… her daee had been beside her always, never more than a length away. it was as much for her safety and protection as it was to keep her separated and worthy as Kali’s oblation. her daee had been carefully selected, and varajakshi, now that some of her mind has returned to her after the initial terror, felt her heart clench with sorrow. her disobediance, her actions, had likely sealed the death warrant of her former caretaker… that or she had at the least ensured her banishment which meant the daee would be as good as dead to the saamraajy. her head tips as she listens, her future and her life hinging upon his words, though she has listed reasons as to why he should not guide her… her breath comes quick with nervousness despite his efforts to soothe her… but could she commit to her ruination so quickly? she must…. it is best he does not try romance, for she would hardly recognize it if he did, but she is quietly appreciative of his direct nature. her head bobbles again, out of habit, accepting his words with thankfulness, though she does not know how to respond. she had never considered having a champion, a lover, a friend even… nothing but her daee and the parivaar, the family, she had been chosen to die for. but to have the company of brothers? of women other than her maan and daee? she does not know what to think of it. with steps that are steps are distinctly loud, he approaches, and she knows this is for her own benefit. her infirmity is not hard to guess. it never made sense that she had been named as she was. varajakshi… eyes like the kamal, the lotus flower…. it was misused on her, for how could they be beautiful? how could there be beauty in something so worthless… perhaps she was named thusly only because they so resembled the opaque whiteness of the lotus petal… her breath hitches again and she takes a short half-step backward, only in surprise. an infidel? would her downfall be so complete as this? but again, she knows she must accept him, and whole heartedly, to be her savior. she tries to take back her shock, lowering her raised head once again and regaining the small step she had taken apologetically, trying to show her trust in him, however little it might be. he is most thoughtful though, and solemn, as he speaks, and she hears the weight of his words settle between them. a soft huff leaves her lips as he surprises her again, commenting on her beauty. it causes a warm blossom of something, deep in her, but still in soft defiance, she gently shakes her head with disagreement. “i would bring shame to any who cared for me, i am imperfect, unfit for you and your great kindness…” her words are as soft as the first drops of rain after the dry season, so soft that you must question whether they had fallen at all… but as she considers her situation, she realizes that if it would be the only way to repay him, she would try to be worthy. ”forgive me…. that i try to dissuade you from your aide and in the same breath beg it of you. if my interest is all that that i may grant you, then… then i will try to please you.”. even more tentatively than the deer takes it’s first step from it’s sleeping thicket in the grass does she step toward him, extending her white painted muzzle upward, in offerance to exchange breaths, forming their official acquaintance, and in an effort to show that she would endeavor not to be so fearful of him. his words are intent on comforting her and she bobbles her head once more, letting a thankful tear slip down her cheek. “varajakshi is my name mere jeevan ka sanrakshak” |