"I have no use for a maid. A maid cleans, they do not write. Or alphabetize." Finishing his work, he looked down at his human and sighed, not sure what to say.
"I never said you had to work yourself to death. I asked you to write, but you don't seem to know what breaks are, unless you fall asleep on your work and don't do it at all." He comments, well aware that he had been sleeping the other day once he had come in with the hand print of ink on his face, "And there is a lake that is rather secluded. I can take you there if you'd like."
It was slowly becoming almost infuriatingly clear that he'd been denied such basic things simply because he hadn't asked. The prince opened his mouth to explain that their castle servants rarely got breaks but he didn't want Hanna to dislike him for his family any more than he felt he already did. And also because Maurice had assumed Hanna might eat him if he didn't work until the dragon relieved him. That wasn't a concern now, was it?
Maurice's life had become very, very strange.
So he shut his mouth before saying, "Please?" Another thought. "Soap?"
What else might he get by being bold enough to ask? Only time would tell.
"I....Am not sure if I have any. I can't exactly use it." He returns, though he holds up a claw as a signal to wait and goes to search, looking through potions. He comes up with one, returning after putting quite a few in a separate bag for Maurice to carry, "Here, does this suit you?"
It was sweet smelling, but also a little earthy, like herbs and apples, perhaps? Maybe pear. "It's not exactly soap, but it don't harm you, and it smells good." Which he figures is good enough. Dragons only really need their claws and teeth to clean themselves, or at least his scaley breed do. "Did you need anything else?"
The dragon's apprentice waited where he was told, and when Hanna returned, he accepted the potion with a furrowed brow.
He'd never held a potion before and warily he brought it close to his nose to sniff. It was nice! Probably the nicest thing he'd smelled since Hanna's weird cinnamon breath. Which he was not going to comment on.
"Did you make this?" Maurice didn't bother hiding his awe. He took the bag and could only wonder what on Earth this dragon was making all these potions and spells for. Was he bored? Was he working toward some grander plan? Was someone paying him? That would be silly. No sane man would approach a dragon like the town baker with a catering order! Whatever it was, he was thankful because now he could finally get rid of the stench of the road and the ink stains all over him. He could only hope a good scrub against some rocks would get some of the ink out of his new clothes.
He rubbed his chin and dared to ask more. "That brush and mirror you promised..."
"I did! That's what I do, among other things." He thinks a moment about where he actually put that brush and mirror, leaving the room to go find it again, and returns with the items, holding them out for Maurice as well.
It was redundant at this point, but that sure as hell didn't stop Maurice from saying, "I never imagined..."
He never imagined a lot of things.
But with all his bath thangs in tow, he beamed tiredly up at his keeper, all kinds of ready to not be disgusting anymore. That prospect alone was enough to keep his spoiled attitude at bay. And then he wanted to sleep. He'd never gone so long without sleep in his entire life, not even when he'd been sick as a child.
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theattic2014-11-09 08:06 pm
no subject
"I never said you had to work yourself to death. I asked you to write, but you don't seem to know what breaks are, unless you fall asleep on your work and don't do it at all." He comments, well aware that he had been sleeping the other day once he had come in with the hand print of ink on his face, "And there is a lake that is rather secluded. I can take you there if you'd like."
no subject
Maurice's life had become very, very strange.
So he shut his mouth before saying, "Please?" Another thought. "Soap?"
What else might he get by being bold enough to ask? Only time would tell.
no subject
It was sweet smelling, but also a little earthy, like herbs and apples, perhaps? Maybe pear. "It's not exactly soap, but it don't harm you, and it smells good." Which he figures is good enough. Dragons only really need their claws and teeth to clean themselves, or at least his scaley breed do. "Did you need anything else?"
no subject
He'd never held a potion before and warily he brought it close to his nose to sniff. It was nice! Probably the nicest thing he'd smelled since Hanna's weird cinnamon breath. Which he was not going to comment on.
"Did you make this?" Maurice didn't bother hiding his awe. He took the bag and could only wonder what on Earth this dragon was making all these potions and spells for. Was he bored? Was he working toward some grander plan? Was someone paying him? That would be silly. No sane man would approach a dragon like the town baker with a catering order! Whatever it was, he was thankful because now he could finally get rid of the stench of the road and the ink stains all over him. He could only hope a good scrub against some rocks would get some of the ink out of his new clothes.
He rubbed his chin and dared to ask more. "That brush and mirror you promised..."
no subject
"Alright, if that's all settled, we ready to go?"
no subject
He never imagined a lot of things.
But with all his bath thangs in tow, he beamed tiredly up at his keeper, all kinds of ready to not be disgusting anymore. That prospect alone was enough to keep his spoiled attitude at bay. And then he wanted to sleep. He'd never gone so long without sleep in his entire life, not even when he'd been sick as a child.