The sun was shining brightly, greeting any and all and wishing them a most wondrous day. Birds chirped happily at the sun, expressing the delight of being in the its magnificent rays. A calm breeze moved various fallen leaves around, caressing them as they sought to return to their respective trees. Truly, Nature was careless and free.

Lavender wasn’t.

A collar had been fitted around her neck, courtesy of the slavers, and it threatened to bite into her skin. She tried to loosen it with her magic, but remembered the arcane nullifier on her horn. Basically, a nullifier was a ring which tightened an area on a unicorn’s horn. The pressure would cause great headache if the unicorn attempted to use magic, thereby removing any possibility of magic. Well, unless the unicorn had an exceptionally high pain tolerance. Then again, they would probably be soldiers instead of slaves if they had such a high tolerance to pain. At least her father had taught her that.

Lavender thought of all that had happened in the last twenty-four hours and shivered: she had been sold to slavers, who then cared for her if only to raise her monetary value. She had waited in horror for the slavers to pull her and her sister, Thorn Mint, up onto the stage. She had watched as her sister was removed from her. She had cried when she was placed in the carriage of her… master. It felt odd even thinking about that word. The thought that she would be living as a slave from now on was, of course, foreign as well. The world blurred slightly.

On the seat in front of her, Trail Duster was sleeping, his light snoring filling the carriage. It did nothing to calm her. Just the fact that she had been sleeping in the same… room? Yeah, the carriage could count as a room. Anyway, the fact that she had been sleeping in the same room as her new… master was frightening to her. He could have done whatever he wanted to with her while she slept! She would have been powerless to stop him from whatever he’d do! But… he hadn’t done anything. Well, except for the blanket lying on her prone body. He had probably laid that over her at some moment during the night.

Maybe he wasn’t as bad as she thought. True, Trail Duster had bought her with the intent of her being a slave, but he had looked so heartbroken when he couldn’t buy Thorn Mint as well. It was as if he knew that she and Lavender were siblings, and that he intended for them to stay together. Or maybe Lavender was just imagining things. Really? A noble who cared for his slaves? It was easier to find a minotaur riding a timberwolf playing a flute made of lead. That is to say, the chances were low, infinitesimally so.

The snoring stopped as Trail Duster started moving. His head rose slowly as Lavender lowered hers, pretending to still be asleep, her face turned towards him with one eye open. She hid her open eye behind one of her legs, of course. Trail Duster shook his head and smacked his lips. His green eyes roamed the inside of the carriage, never really focusing on anything.

Not until they fell on Lavender.

She could see his eyes widening slightly. She had seen that look in his eyes before. Well, not from him, but other stallions. Whenever they got that look they would act… odd. Her brain finally putting two and two together, her open eye started widening. Thoughts of possible scenarios were running through her mind at incredible speeds. Before she even knew it, she had hundreds of different, very possible, and some even scary, scenarios to choose from. She conjured up one action to another, always following small patterns and seeing new possibilities. Any and all she deemed unlikely were thrown away in an instant. What if he took advantage of her? What if he-

His gaze turned to the window.

Lavender let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. Her eyes relaxed as she exhaled through her nose. She kept her eye on him, though. If he did something, even just moved his head, then she’d know. She couldn’t afford to be incautious. She was far too vulnerable in her current position. If she kept her breathing even, pretended to be asleep, then maybe he wouldn’t do anything. Or the opposite could be true. Maybe she had to move, to “wake up”. Maybe he wouldn’t do anything if he knew she was awake and able to resist him. Maybe…

The carriage hit a bump on the road. Trail Duster leaned out of the window, probably to converse with the stallions pulling the carriage. Lavender caught few of the words being shouted through the air. It was something about time. Or maybe distance. She wasn’t quite sure. Time could be used to measure distance, after all.

Trail Duster sat down on his seat in the carriage once more. He turned his gaze towards Lavender once more. His eyes still had that odd look in them, but there was something else as well. His brows furrowed slightly. It almost looked like he was… nervous. Nervous for what? That she would fight back? For all he knew, she was still asleep, unable to fight back.

He leaned forward. Towards Lavender.

Everything slowed around her. She could feel the tensing of her muscles, the blood rushing through her veins. Her heartbeat seemed twice as fast as Trail Duster’s movements. Her open eye flickered about as she scanned the current environment. The doors were closed, of course. There was a window in each door, but she wouldn’t be able to reach either of them in time. She could push him out of the way, maybe force her way out the door… but what would that help? Her forelegs were still bound with rope, and the nullifier on her horn wouldn’t help much either. She’d not only need to pick the small lock on it, but she’d also need the safeword to disarm the ward placed on it. Impossible.

Trail Duster nudged her shoulder.

She screamed and fell from her seat. A small yelp of pain fled from her throat as she hit the floor of the carriage.

“Uhm…” he began slowly, “are you okay?”

“I, uh… I’m fine,” she stammered. “Could I… maybe get some fresh air? Stretch my legs?”

He gave her a smile. She didn’t fall for that smile of his. It felt too caring to be a real smile. “Sure.” He leaned out of the window to ask the one pulling the carriage to stop for a moment. The carriage stopped immediately. “Just… don’t go running of.”

She started inching her body further and further off the seat. As time went by, her legs were dangling awkwardly down the side of the couch. Her posterior had moved further down with the legs, her rear legs nearly touching the floor of the carriage. Just a bit more and she’d know freedom. Even if it was just a fool’s illusion.

“Wait a minute.”

Trail Duster’s words cut through the air, freezing the blood in Lavender’s body. She turned her head towards him, and her eyes widened once more that day. Between his jaws, nestled snugly in his grip, was a knife.

He had a knife... in his mouth.

Her breathing picked up again. She started moving her legs frantically, trying her best to get her hooves onto the floor, to run out immediately, to never look back. She could feel her lungs fill and empty quicker than she thought possible, yet she couldn’t find air to scream. It felt as if her voice had been caught in her throat, struggling to escape the confines of it’s fleshy walls.

“Welakfh,” he muttered, voice slurred by the blade in his mouth. “Ah’m owly gowwa cu’ ‘e wopes off.” She gave a small squeal of fear as he moved closer, but her legs stopped fighting. The blade came closer to her front legs, time passing by slower than she thought, as she watched the blade with fear. The blade creeped up to the rope keeping her legs hostage. With a swift movement of his neck, Trail Duster cut the rope in two.

“Ah’ll ha’ ‘o cu’ ‘e wopes dow’ dere, as well.” A small blush was visible on his features. Lavender’s tail tucked itself underneath her body, between her hind legs. “Id’ll be o’er soo’.”

Before she knew it, Trail Duster had cut the rope holding her last two legs. He put the knife back in it’s sheath, smacking his mouth a few times, face screwing up from the lingering taste of the hilt. A few moments passed before he said anything. Lavender waited.

“So,” he finally began. “Aren’t you going to stretch your legs?” A smile on his features. It was nice. “Just stay near the carriage, alright?”

Lavender gave him her word and exited the carriage. She stayed within a radius of a few meters from the carriage. She had given him her word, and she intended to keep it. After all, he had given her something invaluable.

He had given her freedom, even if it was naught but an illusion.

Lavender couldn’t believe her eyes.

In front of her was a mansion with walls painted a warm, brown colour. Many windows adorned the surface of it’s walls, an unknown amount of rooms, halls, and whatever Trail Duster had crammed into this house of his. The tile roof was a dark colour and seemed to glisten and shine in the afternoon sun. Each storey -all three of them- was separated by a layer of stone bricks, all of which had perfectly carved symbols in a symmetric pattern. Other than that, the mansion was actually quite plain, yet this somehow only magnified it’s splendor.

It was absolutely nothing like what she had expected.

“Thank you for the ride, Grey Tone.” Trail Duster voice cut Lavender out of her trance-like state of wonder. She looked towards Trail Duster and saw him conversing with the grey stallion who had pulled the carriage.

“Not a problem, Master Duster,” the stallion answered in a somewhat tired voice. “After all, ‘tis my duty, sir.”

“Would you please stop calling me ‘Master’? You’ve been living here for years now, Grey, and I’ve told you more times than twice that amount,” the beige stallion said exasperatedly.

“No can do, Master.” A frustrated sigh escaped from Trail Duster’s mouth. He walked over to Lavender and led her up to the double front doors of the mansion, a somewhat irritated look apparent on his face.

When they had reached small stairs up to the doors, though, Trail Duster’s eyes gained a glint of childish glee and giddiness. He ran up to the doors and waited for her there. Once Lavender had reached him, she saw a wide smile on his features, the childish glee still in his eyes. “Welcome…” he said, pausing for dramatic effect. “To your new home.”

The doors were thrown open as Trail Duster nearly bucked them of their hinges, the sound ricocheting of the walls, startling everypony near the entrance of the mansion. Five ponies rushed to entrance, befuddled by the thunderous crash. Trail Duster continued grinning, though with a small blush on his features.

It was a rather grand room, yes, but it wasn’t enormous. It didn’t exactly radiate the wealth Lavender had expected from Trail Duster. Considering the amount of bits he had dished out at the auction, she had expected him to live in a mansion, though maybe one thrice the size of this one. She acknowledged this, yet she couldn’t deny that the mansion had a certain charm. One which she believed to be the very turning point. What the building lacked in size, however, was wholly made up for in charm.

“Master Duster!” one of the ponies, a unicorn stallion, cried out. “Are you alright?”

“Relax, Silver Platter,” Trail Duster said nonchalantly. “After all, this isn’t the first time I’ve done something like this.”

Silver Platter sighed, his grey-coated hoof finding its way up to his forehead. “That may be, Master,” he started somewhat sternly, “but that does not mean you can just keep kicking the doors open. What if you one day hurt yourself, broke one of your legs, or broke your back, or-”

“Oh, calm down, Silva,” one of the mares, an orange-brown Earth pony, in the group said. “Is not like he’s dyin’ or anythin’.” A few of the ponies chuckled. Lavender didn’t.

“But what if he had hurt himself? The only one here with medical knowledge is Caduceus, and he’s busy enough with taking care of Scarlet Blossom as it is! So, no, Peelie, I won’t relax.” A snort of laughter escaped the other mare in the group.

A blush formed on her features. “I tol’ ya not ta call me that! Mah name’s -”

A rather loud cough cut “Peelie” off and caused everyone to look at the general direction of the sound, which, incidentally, was directly at Trail Duster. A mask of frustration covered his features, though his eyes twinkling with joy. “As I do believe we’ve covered,” he began with an aristocratic air not quite fitting him, “my health is perfectly fine, and I do not need such riff-raff as you to worry about it.” A small chuckle escaped his throat before he continued, “Now, hurry along and do your duties.”

And so, the ponies dispersed, but not before they gave a curt, little bow, some of them giggling or chuckling all the while. "Peelie" even gave a little "Aye aye, cap'n" before she went on her merry way back to what Lavender believed to be the kitchen, considering the lovely smells that emanated from there.

“Okay, so,” Trail Duster began as he walked up to the staircase at the left, “first off, lemme tell you about the three simple rules here.” He went up the staircase. “Rule number one: No one in this house is a slave. Everyone is considered an employee, and thereby has a considerate amount of personal freedom. The length of your employment, however, is until the moment that I, your employer, no longer require your services, whatever these may be.” When he’d reached the top of the stairs, he turned left. “Rule number two: Please refer to rule number one.” They continued onwards. “Rule number three: Should such an occasion occur to which rule number one is no longer applicable, please refer to rule number two.” He had a large, goofy grin on his face as he finished his small monologue.

Lavender wasn’t amused. She just wanted to be alone right now.

"But, seriously, everyone here gets payment for their services, though they tend to call it pocket money, for whatever reason." His smile faded into a smaller, more content one. He opened a door to his right. Lavender noticed they were in a rather large hallway. She hadn't really been paying attention to where they had been going Her mind lost in Trail Duster's monologue, she just followed the sound of his voice, hoping it wouldn't lead her astray. He beckoned for her to enter the room.

The walls were a soothing sky-blue. On the wall opposite the door was a window, the sun shining brightly through. To the right of the window was a small table and chair. To the left was a small bed, but a bed nonetheless. That was… unexpected. Considering the fact that she was just a slave now, she had expected something like a pile of hay to sleep on, just like her father had given his slaves. Beds, however, were a luxury most slaveholders kept to themselves, finding slaves far too insignificant for such luxurious items.

“So, I know the room probably isn’t like what you came from,” he began, “but I hope you find it to your liking.” There was that smile again. That small, slightly goofy smile that fit his features perfectly. For some reason, it brought a small flutter to Lavender’s chest. What the flutter meant, however, she did not know, so she did the most sensible thing she could. She ignored it.

“It’s… nice." Silence followed. "I don't know what else to say... Master." She cringed.

"Not you as well," he moaned. “Why do you all insist on calling me that? Just call me ‘Trail’, or ‘Duster’, or whatever. Anything but that.”

“I, uhm… very well.”

“Anyway,” he said, steering the conversation in another direction, “you probably want to be alone for a bit, right?” He gave a small chuckle before continuing, “That’s fine. Just take all the time you need to adjust.” Without another word, he excused himself from the room, closing the door behind him. The sunlight streaming from the window seemed to lose a bit of its shine because for the first time in many years, Lavender was truly alone.

A sniffle escaped Lavender’s throat. Her cheeks had already wetted from the tears falling from her eyes. Her legs seemed weaker than before, like they could buckle underneath her any moment now. She made her way onto the bed, completely ignoring its softness, and sobbed. Hours passed, and when she could cry no more, she felt the warm, ever familiar embrace of sleep.

The hallways were dark this night. It seemed Watcher hadn’t lit the torches yet. Trail Duster sighed and shook his head with a slight smile. Guess I have to do it myself, then. So here he was, tinderbox between his teeth, roaming the hallways and lighting every torch he came across. He had been rather quick about it as well, indeed, the only part he was missing was the servants’ quarters. But something stopped him while he lit the torches.

It was a muffled sobbing. From one of the rooms, of course.

So he went to the room in question. He didn’t enter, goodness no, but he did stand by the door, listening and wondering who was sobbing. Then, clear as daylight, it struck him. He should have known it immediately, great fool he was. It was the new servant - Lavender. He made a mental note, and continued lighting the torches. Once finished, Trail Duster went to the kitchen. He had to make sure Lavender felt welcome the next day, and who better to take care of that than the most homely of his servants?

Who better than Potato Peel?

Author's Note

This chapter has not received any editing other than me reading it through time and time again. Please do be a sport, and point out any errors you come across. Please? Pretty please with sugar, ice cream, and whipped cream on top?

And a side-note: My original plan was to release a chapter from both characters' viewpoints at the same time... but you can see how that turned out. Anyway, I'll return to Thorn Mint's chapter. Can bring a release date yet, but when have I ever done that?

Rawr,
Spaslan.

EDIT: Minor editting has happened. That is all, now move along.