While he's had time to walk around most of the inhabited areas of Somnius more than a handful of times, Levi's beginning to think the cottages are maybe a better idea than the treehouse. While they're a bit different than they'd experienced in the Labyrinth, the idea of them is...similar enough. It's quiet, with more open space, and it would be easier for Erwin to access. Sill of them, really, to have bothered with a treehouse in the first place just on that criteria alone, but it had also felt like a safer choice at the time. Now, perhaps that isn't as much of a concern.
He finds her place fairly easily enough, although the garden is...certainly in quite a State. More than one plant grabs at his sleeve or pant leg as he walks up the path to the front door. Gardening has never been his specialty or responsibility, but -
"Hey. Your garden needs a trim." Levi looks at her critically as she favors her injured leg. "If it's still that bad you should be sitting down. C'mon."
He offers her a hand to grip so she can limp back inside.
Not only has gardening never been her responsibility, she has never lived on the surface of a planet before. His comment, therefore, doesn't trouble her in the slightest. 'Better for the wildlife this way,' she murmurs, but she's quick to take his arm and let him help her back inside.
Her home is not only tidy inside, it's completely free of clutter. Everything she owns seems to be stored neatly away in closed cupboards and chests, and there's not even very much furniture, although her living space has a choice of chairs. She sits down on the nearest one, giving him a small smile. 'I should really be making you coffee,' she says. 'I have cake, too, if you like.'
Levi may note that despite the uncluttered space, there's plenty of dust, and even a little grime. Cleaning seems as much a priority to Tayrey as gardening is.
Levi could point out that she isn't wildlife, but gardening isn't his area of expertise - thought it seems like it should go without saying that you should at the very least keep a clear path to your home. But it's not a point he's invested in arguing about.
He is admittedly somewhat surprised to find the objects in her home quite orderly - military training could turn messy people into organized ones, but that didn't necessarily remain true if they were no longer technically obligated to keep it so. Perhaps it shouldn't be as shocking as it is, given what he already knows of her, but truly, it's difficult for anyone to meet his standards right out of the gate.
"I'm fine, thanks. Erwin's the coffee drinker." Cake is a little too sweet for his tastes.
Levi helps her to the chair, then pulls up another one to sit closer-
...his fingers detect the unmistakable feeling of dust on the underside and back of the chair. He brings his hand in front of the face to assess the grime, wrinkling his nose as he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes off his fingers.
"The fuck is this? If you're going to be this tidy, learn to clean properly. Half the work is done already."
Unfortunately she doesn't have much to offer beyond coffee and cake. While she'd happily dip into her stores, she doubts he'd want the sorts of dried and preserved foods she's keeping there, either. It's really for emergencies. Her kitchen is used for food storage, since cooking is another of those skills she never picked up. The cake is from the market.
Levi sits - and then wipes off his fingers. Her eyes go wide at his outburst. Surprise, with a hint of indignation, because what does it have to do with him anyway?
'I don't tell other people what do to with their private homes,' she says quietly. 'I'm very busy and I can hardly afford to have staff in.' Reacting as if he were someone from Cardalek criticising her, someone who would have that expectation.
"You don't need staff. You have two hands, or ask someone for help." He puts the handkerchief away - despite his directness, he doesn't look especially disgusted (except for having touched it without realizing), or even that bothered. Not more than she's seen, anyway.
"Nevermind. There's been a lot of shit going on lately and it's not like you can move easily right now. I'll do some before I go." It'll probably end up being everything in their immediate vicinity.
Levi turns his attention back to her injury, gesturing at her leg. "How is it?"
She's about to argue that it isn't that simple, but as Levi seems to let it go, she'll do the same. It's not that she can't see his point, only that she doesn't have time to make it a priority, or really know how to begin. Tayrey had learnt a lot about managing without technology since her arrival here, and she'd tried to stay cheerful despite what felt like hardship. Some things were absolute necessity, like figuring out how to launder her uniforms and keep a fire going. Cleaning? Most of that was automated, shipside, and anything that wasn't had never been her responsibility.
At his question, she pulls up her trouser leg and unwraps the dressing to show him the healing wound. He's here to help with that, after all, no sense in being shy about it. It's sealed well, and there's no sign of infection, but the cut was long, and looks likely to scar badly.
'It's a hell of a lot better than it would be if you hadn't been there,' she tells him. 'Looks worse than it is, I think, although I don't really know how to compare. Medical treatment is different back home.' It still hurts her to walk, but she's not going to complain about that. It's manageable, and she doesn't want Levi to think less of her.
'But I... I don't want you doing any cleaning in here. You're a captain, it isn't right, and you know I'd need fair contract.' And after her remark about staff she isn't about to insult the man by suggesting she simply pay him for it.
It'd be a little more understandable if he knew there was such technology that she never had to properly clean before. Dirt and grime were a fact of life for him, so he's learned how to deal with it thoroughly, even aside from having an aversion to it that could be hard to suppress. Still, even with those sorts of things available, Levi would probably be thoroughly checking for it anyway.
He examines the wound - healing is hardly his specialty, but he's seen enough injuries to know when something looks infected. Nodding in agreement at her assessment, he starts to roll up his sleeves. A long, thin pink scar scores up the inside of his right arm, indicating a similarly fresh injury. He hovers a palm about an inch over the wound near her knee, and a blue light begins to glow.
"Yeah, it looks clean. Not sure how much more I'll be able to do, but it might get you moving around faster anyway." His jaw tightens slightly as a burning sensation mirrors a ghost of Ari's injury on his own leg, but he doesn't say anything about it.
His gaze flickers back to her.
"Being a captain doesn't have anything to do with it - I teach all of my soldiers how to clean properly and we do it together. They all know my standards. It's better for everyone to not be living in filth." But he thinks a moment, trying to come up with something that she might agree to.
"You mentioned coffee. What's your experience brewing it?"
She takes careful note of the fresh pink scar tissue on his arm. It seems she wasn't the only one to suffer during that battle. Which really means she should make less of a fuss over it - and, she reminds herself, she shouldn't even be surprised. The infirmary was always in a state after shipside battles. The only difference is that a injury like hers would be considered minor and be gone without a trace within a day. Here, it seems, the reminders are more permanent. It's a sobering thought.
This time, as Levi manifests the glowing light, Ari is watching intently. Last time she had been in a lot of pain, and afraid, and it had been much easier not to look, but now her natural curiosity has reasserted itself. She observes all she can, meaning to take notes later. The light has only been there for a few seconds when she feels relief.
'The pain is gone,' she tells him, with a little hopeful smile. 'That really is amazing. I wish I knew how to do it.'
When he asks about the coffee, however, she shakes her head. 'Only what I taught myself here, out of necessity. The coffee is passable, but I'm no expert. My family had a cook, and then it was never my job shipside. Keeping my cabin and workspace tidy was, as you can probably see.' She laughs a little, at herself. The Tradelines were more formal, and it'd be unthinkable for one of their captains to help with any mundane task. 'I've had to learn so much here. I don't make a very good civilian.'
It's a relief to hear the pain for her subsides - it burns in turn down his own leg, but as he reaches the end of her injury, the sensation already starts to fade. His hand tingles a little, and Levi flexes his fingers to make it dissipate faster.
"You could probably do it, if you wanted to pay up to drink another potion. Thought I heard that recently."
Perhaps it would be useful to be able to use some kind of elemental magic so that he doesn't feel at a complete disadvantage compared to some of the people here; even with his renewed strength and agility, Levi isn't counting on that to completely keep him out of trouble when there were still so many unknowns about this place. But it's not a priority for the moment.
He presses his lips together a moment at her response - well, that idea is thwarted. He needs someone who is more confident in their skill, because if he's going to learn how to make coffee for Erwin, it needs to be more than passable, since he can already do that.
"I see." Sitting back on his heels, he starts to unroll his cuffs again, working the buttons closed. "You came from a big operation, huh? If you had people to take care of all that for you."
'Really?' she questions, surprised. 'I haven't seen them for sale anywhere - oh, you mean buying from some newcomer who decided not to drink from their vial?' It's not the worst of ideas, she thinks. Or at least it wouldn't be, if the outcome were guaranteed. 'I shall look into that.'
As she speaks, she leans forward to look at her wound. It's completely closed now, even if the livid red of the fresh scar tissue makes her wince. It won't look like that forever, she tells herself, but she doesn't let her gaze linger for long before she pulls down her trouser leg again. There's no need for a fresh dressing, not after that dramatically accelerated bit of healing, so instead she wads up the old length of white cloth in one hand, and stands, slowly.
There's no pain on standing, and she smiles as she crosses the room to drop the old cloth in a wooden container there. She'll boil it clean later. The method is primitive to her mind, but the concept isn't. Tradeliners, like everyone else who came out of the early colonies, don't waste resources. Her gait is markedly less irregular now, and she returns to Levi without any unsteadiness.
'There were over two hundred on my ship,' she explains. 'Most of the cleaning was automated. The coffee machines, too. Food was different. We had a very good cook! I know how to provision a ship for a quarter-year out in the black, but not how to cook any of it. It would have been very inefficient for us all to do that! The trade-off is that we didn't get much choice in meals, but I was never fussy. I take it that your people, working in smaller units, were less specialised?'
"Supposedly it's another thing you can ask the big creepy crystal for."
He's not bothered much with it outside of a couple things, but that's the rumor.
It's a relief to see that she can walk without pain again. Levi doesn't smile, but he watches her cross the room, pleased with the outcome (and that she at least has a separate place for the bandage to go rather than just tossing it anywhere). After a moment, he gets to his feet and joins her, trying not to take in all of the dusty spots he passes along the way.
"There are about three to four-hundred members of the Survey Corps at any given time. I think I've mentioned that our survival rates aren't very high, so often it's less than that for a while. At headquarters there are staff that help run things who don't do training or go on missions, but everyone learns how to cook in the field, if they didn't know how to already. Any one of them can be self sufficient if needed. And everybody cleans. Nothing is...automated? Dunno what that word means."
His mention of the crystal provokes a look of displeasure. 'Oh,' she says quietly. 'The spying crystal. I use that to tell Vaeros to return the goods he took from me. Not to beg for gifts and favors.' Is that insulting towards the people who do use the crystal to make wishes? Probably. Does Ari Tayrey care? Not a bit. She has always been clear about her notions of fair contract, and ethical consistency matters.
She listen to Levi's explanation of Survey Corps customs. Ari is blissfully oblivious to the dust around the room, but there's a considerable amount.
Nodding in understanding, she tells him, 'It makes sense. It's different, but it's like I was telling Commander Smith before, the differences make sense given our distinct operating parameters. Tradeliners don't have headquarters, except for a central finance office but that's very small. Shipside, everyone learns to use firearms, because if enemies attack they're not going to spare someone because they claim they're just an accountant or repair technician. If you're in a Tradeline uniform, you're a target. Automated means that people aren't needed for a job, machines can do it. We have machines that clean. Cooking is a specialist job shipside. I mean, anyone can heat up a ration packet on expedition, but I wouldn't call that cooking.'
It seems to her that both of them are concerned with practicalities, but what exactly counts as an essential practical skill doesn't really line up. She has to admit that Levi's skillset is probably more useful in Somnius than hers.
Levi's method of dealing with the crystal has also been to demand his shit back, rather than ask nicely, but he also doesn't care how other people use it. If they want to ask for things that makes them happier or their life easier while in this strange place, let them.
"Suppose if you have things to do it for you, you'd never have a reason to learn." He can concede that much, at least. Levi can throw together a handful of things if pressed - porridge, stew, things like that. But even he doesn't really count what he does as cooking, necessarily. Perhaps he could if he wanted, but that seems to be Erwin's hobby of late. Which is just as well, because Levi cleans.
"But you're saying even without those machines, you can't tell you've got dust and shit everywhere?"
She thinks for a moment, her brow creasing in concentration. 'If I look for it, I see it,' she admits, because now that she does look, the dust in the corners is beyond obvious.
'I guess... I have to prioritise. I'm good at that. This place is nothing at all like a starship. I had to learn a lot from scratch. So priorities are-' she starts ticking them off on her fingers, out of habit, 'earn enough to support myself, make profit, militia work, keep the house warm, haul enough water from the well to keep myself and my clothes looking presentable, lay pipes so that someday I won't have to do that... not in that order. But it's a lot. For one person to do everything alone. Building the kind of machines that deal with dust would be a big project and I wouldn't even know where to start with materials.'
Tayrey had gone from being a very privileged child to a member of a large and specialised starship crew. Living alone was never something she thought she'd have to do.
He connects those dots together. "Wait, hold on - you're building all that yourself because you don't want to ask the crystal for shit? Is it because you don't think it's a fair exchange to give it energy or whatever, or you don't want to give it?"
The words might sound somewhat judgmental, but Levi's just trying to understand what the line is for her here.
"Anyway, I don't mind doing this for you once in a while, if we can work out an exchange." For his purposes, he doesn't really need one, except that if Ari hopes to have him visit again, it'll make Levi more comfortable to spend time in a place not covered in a layer of dust. "If it's too much for one person, you can ask for help."
Her expression darkens. 'I was held prisoner by a being who saw me as a fuel source and not a person,' she says quietly. 'The fuel was my pain and suffering. I'm not being poetic. That's literally how it was. So no, I'm not giving up anything at all, tangible or not, without a contract in place. If Vaeros wants something from me, he can talk to me and deal with me fairly, and come to a mutually beneficial and consensual agreement. Until that time? There's dignity in doing things with my own two hands. However clumsily.' She glances down at those hands. They're tougher than they used to be. New calluses. 'There's none at all in standing in front of an inanimate crystal begging an unseen person for handouts and having to pay an unknown price for them.'
Tayrey isn't getting emotional about it. Her words are even and considered; this is simply how it is for her. She lives by her principles.
Can she ask for help, though? Again, she has to consider it. Most people would simply hear a pithy remark about her independence, but she trusts Levi more than that. Sometimes you have to rely on your comrades, don't you? If you know that they won't see you as lesser because of it - and she doesn't think he will.
'We could work out an exchange,' she agrees, finally, 'and maybe - maybe you could show me the most efficient way to handle it.' Maybe it's not wrong for her, she decides. It hadn't ever been her job shipside, and she'd been right to refuse after that, because cleaning the place of her imprisonment wasn't proper for a Tradeliner. Things are different now, aren't they? This cottage is hers.
Levi goes very still, his gaze intensifying, hardening, as she recounts her experience. He doesn't need details, doesn't doubt that she means precisely what she says. He's seen enough horror in the world even before ever laying eyes on a titan to know that if some shitty noble could have figure out how to profit off people's suffering for energy, they would have. They'd already exploited every other part of their physical body, why not their emotions as well? As far as he's ever concerned, exploitation is the true evil in the world.
He stares at her, hard, for a long moment before he simply says: "I understand."
There's no sympathy offered, but there is a palpable anger on her behalf that thrums silently through his limbs, an energy looking for an outlet. Levi clenches his fists briefly to try to dissipate some of it, but it's not enough, and he shifts to his feet, suddenly restless.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I would like to live in that cottage please lmao
He finds her place fairly easily enough, although the garden is...certainly in quite a State. More than one plant grabs at his sleeve or pant leg as he walks up the path to the front door. Gardening has never been his specialty or responsibility, but -
"Hey. Your garden needs a trim." Levi looks at her critically as she favors her injured leg. "If it's still that bad you should be sitting down. C'mon."
He offers her a hand to grip so she can limp back inside.
Me too! Had to pick a nice one for her!
Her home is not only tidy inside, it's completely free of clutter. Everything she owns seems to be stored neatly away in closed cupboards and chests, and there's not even very much furniture, although her living space has a choice of chairs. She sits down on the nearest one, giving him a small smile. 'I should really be making you coffee,' she says. 'I have cake, too, if you like.'
Levi may note that despite the uncluttered space, there's plenty of dust, and even a little grime. Cleaning seems as much a priority to Tayrey as gardening is.
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He is admittedly somewhat surprised to find the objects in her home quite orderly - military training could turn messy people into organized ones, but that didn't necessarily remain true if they were no longer technically obligated to keep it so. Perhaps it shouldn't be as shocking as it is, given what he already knows of her, but truly, it's difficult for anyone to meet his standards right out of the gate.
"I'm fine, thanks. Erwin's the coffee drinker." Cake is a little too sweet for his tastes.
Levi helps her to the chair, then pulls up another one to sit closer-
...his fingers detect the unmistakable feeling of dust on the underside and back of the chair. He brings his hand in front of the face to assess the grime, wrinkling his nose as he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes off his fingers.
"The fuck is this? If you're going to be this tidy, learn to clean properly. Half the work is done already."
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Levi sits - and then wipes off his fingers. Her eyes go wide at his outburst. Surprise, with a hint of indignation, because what does it have to do with him anyway?
'I don't tell other people what do to with their private homes,' she says quietly. 'I'm very busy and I can hardly afford to have staff in.' Reacting as if he were someone from Cardalek criticising her, someone who would have that expectation.
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"Nevermind. There's been a lot of shit going on lately and it's not like you can move easily right now. I'll do some before I go." It'll probably end up being everything in their immediate vicinity.
Levi turns his attention back to her injury, gesturing at her leg. "How is it?"
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At his question, she pulls up her trouser leg and unwraps the dressing to show him the healing wound. He's here to help with that, after all, no sense in being shy about it. It's sealed well, and there's no sign of infection, but the cut was long, and looks likely to scar badly.
'It's a hell of a lot better than it would be if you hadn't been there,' she tells him. 'Looks worse than it is, I think, although I don't really know how to compare. Medical treatment is different back home.' It still hurts her to walk, but she's not going to complain about that. It's manageable, and she doesn't want Levi to think less of her.
'But I... I don't want you doing any cleaning in here. You're a captain, it isn't right, and you know I'd need fair contract.' And after her remark about staff she isn't about to insult the man by suggesting she simply pay him for it.
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He examines the wound - healing is hardly his specialty, but he's seen enough injuries to know when something looks infected. Nodding in agreement at her assessment, he starts to roll up his sleeves. A long, thin pink scar scores up the inside of his right arm, indicating a similarly fresh injury. He hovers a palm about an inch over the wound near her knee, and a blue light begins to glow.
"Yeah, it looks clean. Not sure how much more I'll be able to do, but it might get you moving around faster anyway." His jaw tightens slightly as a burning sensation mirrors a ghost of Ari's injury on his own leg, but he doesn't say anything about it.
His gaze flickers back to her.
"Being a captain doesn't have anything to do with it - I teach all of my soldiers how to clean properly and we do it together. They all know my standards. It's better for everyone to not be living in filth." But he thinks a moment, trying to come up with something that she might agree to.
"You mentioned coffee. What's your experience brewing it?"
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This time, as Levi manifests the glowing light, Ari is watching intently. Last time she had been in a lot of pain, and afraid, and it had been much easier not to look, but now her natural curiosity has reasserted itself. She observes all she can, meaning to take notes later. The light has only been there for a few seconds when she feels relief.
'The pain is gone,' she tells him, with a little hopeful smile. 'That really is amazing. I wish I knew how to do it.'
When he asks about the coffee, however, she shakes her head. 'Only what I taught myself here, out of necessity. The coffee is passable, but I'm no expert. My family had a cook, and then it was never my job shipside. Keeping my cabin and workspace tidy was, as you can probably see.' She laughs a little, at herself. The Tradelines were more formal, and it'd be unthinkable for one of their captains to help with any mundane task. 'I've had to learn so much here. I don't make a very good civilian.'
no subject
It's a relief to hear the pain for her subsides - it burns in turn down his own leg, but as he reaches the end of her injury, the sensation already starts to fade. His hand tingles a little, and Levi flexes his fingers to make it dissipate faster.
"You could probably do it, if you wanted to pay up to drink another potion. Thought I heard that recently."
Perhaps it would be useful to be able to use some kind of elemental magic so that he doesn't feel at a complete disadvantage compared to some of the people here; even with his renewed strength and agility, Levi isn't counting on that to completely keep him out of trouble when there were still so many unknowns about this place. But it's not a priority for the moment.
He presses his lips together a moment at her response - well, that idea is thwarted. He needs someone who is more confident in their skill, because if he's going to learn how to make coffee for Erwin, it needs to be more than passable, since he can already do that.
"I see." Sitting back on his heels, he starts to unroll his cuffs again, working the buttons closed. "You came from a big operation, huh? If you had people to take care of all that for you."
no subject
As she speaks, she leans forward to look at her wound. It's completely closed now, even if the livid red of the fresh scar tissue makes her wince. It won't look like that forever, she tells herself, but she doesn't let her gaze linger for long before she pulls down her trouser leg again. There's no need for a fresh dressing, not after that dramatically accelerated bit of healing, so instead she wads up the old length of white cloth in one hand, and stands, slowly.
There's no pain on standing, and she smiles as she crosses the room to drop the old cloth in a wooden container there. She'll boil it clean later. The method is primitive to her mind, but the concept isn't. Tradeliners, like everyone else who came out of the early colonies, don't waste resources. Her gait is markedly less irregular now, and she returns to Levi without any unsteadiness.
'There were over two hundred on my ship,' she explains. 'Most of the cleaning was automated. The coffee machines, too. Food was different. We had a very good cook! I know how to provision a ship for a quarter-year out in the black, but not how to cook any of it. It would have been very inefficient for us all to do that! The trade-off is that we didn't get much choice in meals, but I was never fussy. I take it that your people, working in smaller units, were less specialised?'
no subject
He's not bothered much with it outside of a couple things, but that's the rumor.
It's a relief to see that she can walk without pain again. Levi doesn't smile, but he watches her cross the room, pleased with the outcome (and that she at least has a separate place for the bandage to go rather than just tossing it anywhere). After a moment, he gets to his feet and joins her, trying not to take in all of the dusty spots he passes along the way.
"There are about three to four-hundred members of the Survey Corps at any given time. I think I've mentioned that our survival rates aren't very high, so often it's less than that for a while. At headquarters there are staff that help run things who don't do training or go on missions, but everyone learns how to cook in the field, if they didn't know how to already. Any one of them can be self sufficient if needed. And everybody cleans. Nothing is...automated? Dunno what that word means."
no subject
She listen to Levi's explanation of Survey Corps customs. Ari is blissfully oblivious to the dust around the room, but there's a considerable amount.
Nodding in understanding, she tells him, 'It makes sense. It's different, but it's like I was telling Commander Smith before, the differences make sense given our distinct operating parameters. Tradeliners don't have headquarters, except for a central finance office but that's very small. Shipside, everyone learns to use firearms, because if enemies attack they're not going to spare someone because they claim they're just an accountant or repair technician. If you're in a Tradeline uniform, you're a target. Automated means that people aren't needed for a job, machines can do it. We have machines that clean. Cooking is a specialist job shipside. I mean, anyone can heat up a ration packet on expedition, but I wouldn't call that cooking.'
It seems to her that both of them are concerned with practicalities, but what exactly counts as an essential practical skill doesn't really line up. She has to admit that Levi's skillset is probably more useful in Somnius than hers.
no subject
"Suppose if you have things to do it for you, you'd never have a reason to learn." He can concede that much, at least. Levi can throw together a handful of things if pressed - porridge, stew, things like that. But even he doesn't really count what he does as cooking, necessarily. Perhaps he could if he wanted, but that seems to be Erwin's hobby of late. Which is just as well, because Levi cleans.
"But you're saying even without those machines, you can't tell you've got dust and shit everywhere?"
Wouldn't that make it more noticeable??
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'I guess... I have to prioritise. I'm good at that. This place is nothing at all like a starship. I had to learn a lot from scratch. So priorities are-' she starts ticking them off on her fingers, out of habit, 'earn enough to support myself, make profit, militia work, keep the house warm, haul enough water from the well to keep myself and my clothes looking presentable, lay pipes so that someday I won't have to do that... not in that order. But it's a lot. For one person to do everything alone. Building the kind of machines that deal with dust would be a big project and I wouldn't even know where to start with materials.'
Tayrey had gone from being a very privileged child to a member of a large and specialised starship crew. Living alone was never something she thought she'd have to do.
no subject
The words might sound somewhat judgmental, but Levi's just trying to understand what the line is for her here.
"Anyway, I don't mind doing this for you once in a while, if we can work out an exchange." For his purposes, he doesn't really need one, except that if Ari hopes to have him visit again, it'll make Levi more comfortable to spend time in a place not covered in a layer of dust. "If it's too much for one person, you can ask for help."
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Tayrey isn't getting emotional about it. Her words are even and considered; this is simply how it is for her. She lives by her principles.
Can she ask for help, though? Again, she has to consider it. Most people would simply hear a pithy remark about her independence, but she trusts Levi more than that. Sometimes you have to rely on your comrades, don't you? If you know that they won't see you as lesser because of it - and she doesn't think he will.
'We could work out an exchange,' she agrees, finally, 'and maybe - maybe you could show me the most efficient way to handle it.' Maybe it's not wrong for her, she decides. It hadn't ever been her job shipside, and she'd been right to refuse after that, because cleaning the place of her imprisonment wasn't proper for a Tradeliner. Things are different now, aren't they? This cottage is hers.
no subject
He stares at her, hard, for a long moment before he simply says: "I understand."
There's no sympathy offered, but there is a palpable anger on her behalf that thrums silently through his limbs, an energy looking for an outlet. Levi clenches his fists briefly to try to dissipate some of it, but it's not enough, and he shifts to his feet, suddenly restless.
"All you have to do is ask."