#upryalawrence

[phabblebabbles]

dance - lou & ren

“A waltz?”

“No.”

“The foxtrot?”

“No.”

“A festive jig?”

“How many times must I tell you that I do not dance?” Will grumbled from his seat next to Louisa. Mere feet away a small band played a melodic tune and couples swayed past them in time with the music.

“Everyone dances,” Louisa retorted, trying her best to get even the smallest of smiles out of her unwilling companion.

“I don’t,” Will replied curtly, staring straight ahead. “But he will.”

Louisa turned and immediately broke into a smile when she saw Ren standing before her. She took his hand and almost swore she heard Will let out a sigh of relief as she and Ren joined the other dancers.

“You think I tease him too much, don’t you?” Louisa asked Ren as they moved in time with the music. She’d started to change her thoughts about her and Becca’s guard after Ren told her about how the man had been instrumental in their escape from their old life in the South. He grinned at her comment.

“Maybe just a bit… though I think it might do him some good,” he finally replied.

“You can hear the music much better when you’re inside the building,” Louisa commented, referencing the first time they’d danced together, which had been in the alley behind the building months ago. Ren sighed, sadly.

“I doubt there will be much music soon,” he said quietly. Louisa stared up at him, confused.

“Why?”

The music suddenly wasn’t music— it was the sounds of trucks, of men shouting, of gunfire. Louisa turned around to see what was happening and suddenly everything went dark.

Louisa bolted straight up in bed, disoriented. It took her a moment to come to her senses. The bed beneath her was plush, the linens soft. The silky curtains had been pulled closed in front of the tall windows. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she found her reflection staring back at her from the ornate mirror that was positioned above her vanity.

This was her room in the north. She was back in her bed. Becca slept soundly next door, Howard across the hall. They had all been rescued.

It had all been a dream.

Louisa sank back into her bed, burying herself in the blankets as she tried to sleep once again. She subconsciously ran her fingers across the scar on the palm of her hand, so faint often wondered if she was just imagining it was there.

[upryalouisa]

A Domestic Disaster || Louisa + Ren

“I’m so terribly sorry, but I wonder if you might be able to help me?”

There was a reason Louisa Prior was standing in the infirmary, clutching what she imagined was a rather dirty rag around her left palm. That reason was an apple or, rather, the cutting of an apple.

For being captives of the southern rebels, Louisa was surprised by how well both she and her sister were being treated. She, at times, found herself forgetting these people worked for the woman who undoubtedly ordered the killing of her parents. Today, she’d found a single apple in their daily rations-- something she assumed was hard to come by at this time of year. Rebecca had been napping in there small rooms, so Louisa had planned to cut the apple for them as a treat with their tea. This had proven to be a disaster. 

Louisa had never had much practice with cooking knives. She could manage quite well with a dinner knife, but having had servants cooking for her family most of her life, she’d never been in the kitchen much. No one had ever given her the advice to always keep one’s had out of the way of the blade, should it slip, which it did. She sliced her palm open and, in the shock of it all, simply stared at bleeding wound until Rebecca found her and shouted for help. Louisa had been whisked off to the infirmary.

The young man sitting at the desk didn’t appear to be much older than her. She offered him a very small smile when he looked up at her, holding out her hand to show him the now rather bloody rag wrapped around the wound. 

“I’ve recently discovered fruit is more difficult to cut than I previously thought,” she continued, as if that might explain everything.