get in, loser, we're going shopping [open; fairy tale plot]

[doublethepain]

An entire day has already passed, and Spencer is no closer to being used to walking on these legs than he'd been when April had helped him reach the shore. Each step is pure agony and for that alone, he is admittedly relieved that his voice has been taken from him for the time being; but in spite of his fears that Joel would tire of him quickly, that the prince would send him on his way after seeing him fed and clothed, he's been invited to stay in the palace for-- well, for as long as any of the royal family sees fit, he supposes.

Joel had demanded--in as princely a way as possible, of course--that Spencer be seen to, and the workers in the palace had been quick about putting him in a shirt and trousers that he supposes fit him well enough, not that it matters much to him, seeing as he's never had to wear clothes before in the first place. Joel hadn't left his side once, though he'd been very gentlemanly about keeping his back turned while Spencer had been helped into his clothes, and though they hadn't been able to converse, Spencer doesn't think he's ever felt more attended to in his life. The way Joel had looked at him as the evening continued on, as he'd sat across from him at the table while Spencer had been unapologetic about shoveling the stew laid before him into his mouth, is unlike anything he's ever known.

Only the introduction to the king and queen had made him flush terribly, though they'd been nothing but kind to him upon discovering he had been the one to save their son from drowning the day before. Joel's father had laid a gentle hand on his shoulder while his mother had offered a near tearful thanks punctuated with a kiss to his cheek and that had been that before Spencer had been ushered off to a large room with a bed that could certainly fit three of him comfortably on it.

Worse than the pain in his legs had been when the time had come to bid farewell to Joel for the evening, though he'd been assured that if he needed anything, he could call for him anytime. Spencer had slept soundly, though, exhausted from everything that had happened in so short a time, and by the time he'd woken up the next morning, he'd been more than ready to face the day. Now, he's exploring the marketplace, brought here by carriage and equipped with a cane meant to assist him with his walking. Joel had promised to come find him after he'd finished with what Spencer can only assume are his princely duties, though he hasn't the faintest idea what that might entail, but he's content with that for now. He can almost grow numb, in fact, to each sharp jolt that shoots through him with every foot forward as he admires the jewels and fruits and vegetables that are all for sale here, smiling and shaking his head at every merchant who calls out to him.

He has thirteen days left to make being human count for something; but in this moment, Spencer just wants to allow himself the chance to enjoy it the best he can.



[OOC: Open to all!]

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[astra_inclinant]

Mira has been sent by her mother to the marketplace to choose some vegetables for the next week's meals, but as usual she's been distracted, courtesy of a merchant who has supposedly just returned from a far-off land full of ancient cultures.

She's made a little money of her own, tutoring some of the children around town, and though she knows she'll be scolded for it, she's mid-haggling for a book. "I can read the title," she protests firmly at the merchant's claims, "I don't care who sold you this, it's no older than a century. That contraction wasn't even in use before then."

"Does your father tell your suitors that you teach yourself dead languages instead of cooking?"

"I hope so," she says, "or they'll be very disappointed." Still, the book tugs at her. "I'll pay you a gold piece, no more."

It's with satisfaction that she turns away with a new book in hand, full of maps of land and sky -- a full two pages for constellations from the other side of the world! -- and very nearly knocks over a taller, thin man with a cane. "Oh god. I'm so sorry!"

[doublethepain]

Spencer opens his mouth to tell the woman she needn't worry nor apologize before he can stop himself, nothing but air catching in his throat where words should have, and he chastises himself for forgetting yet again that his voice has been taken from him. He hasn't quite gotten used to not being able to speak, not when he'd had any number of words at his disposal just yesterday, and he's already made a vow to himself never to take his voice for granted again once he gets it back because he hadn't realized the full extent of the difficulties he'd face when he'd struck his bargain with Ersa.

His voice in exchange for his legs. He understands now why that trade had been made, it would have been far too easy for Spencer to fulfill his task--assuming Joel would be willing in the first place, which Spencer still isn't allowing himself to believe is true yet--if he could just tell the prince about it, explain everything and what he is and where he comes from, what he'd given up for a chance at love with a man he'd met just once.

Of course, the woman who's waiting for a response now knows none of this, nor shall she ever, Spencer supposes. He's about to make an attempt to gesture his own apology to the woman when the book in her arms catches his eye, and he looks up at her with curiosity before leaning forward to get a better look.

[astra_inclinant]

She blinks, startled for a moment as he opens and then shuts his mouth, looking apologetic. He can't speak. Or can't speak right now, as he looked like he was about to; maybe an illness? "You don't talk?" she asks, and feels incredibly stupid. "I mean -- I'm sorry, that was rude."

He's leaning forward already to look at the book she's holding, and she grins, showing him her bartering achievement. "Do you like to read? It looks wonderful, with all sorts of drawings of animals, maps, and charts..." Her eyes go a little distant and happy. She holds it open to him, opening to a two-page spread illustrating sailors on a distant sea watching constellations above, their names scribbled in. "I love thinking about other places."

[doublethepain]

The woman looks slightly distressed by her own question of whether he can speak, and Spencer smiles at her with a slight shake of his head to indicate that it isn't rude at all. Or maybe it is, but Spencer doesn't consider it so. He hasn't long been without a voice, but the difficulties of losing it had made themselves immediately evident from the moment Joel had found him wrapped in sails by the shipwreck on the beach. He doesn't know which will be more of a burden, the pain in his legs or the lack of ability to speak, but despite the consequences of both, he's at least relieved to discover that Joel seems to be able to communicate with him well enough.

The woman, too, doesn't linger for too long on on what he cannot do, and then she's showing him the book she carries in her hand, flipping through pages until Spencer's eyes are so wide that he thinks they cannot possibly grow any larger. The pictures inside are beyond gorgeous, more beautiful than anything human artifact he's managed to collect so far, and for a moment, he envies the woman for owning such a prize.

He cautiously reaches out to brush his fingers against one of the pages, an illustration of the vastness of an ocean, and he smiles softly at it before glancing up at her. There's no way he can explain to her that the ocean is his home, even if he'd wanted to, but his smile grows wider as he gestures to the book in an effort to show his thanks for her being so kind as to share.