Lucien draws a ladle of it himself, making sure to sip slowly. He keeps his mouth full while Jackdaw tries to find words - so as not to pressure her any more than what she provides for herself. 

"I'm very glad you're still with us too." Another long sip, and a mischevious twinkle in his eye. "I should probably tell the others that supper's ready... but it'll keep warm. What say we enjoy the quiet for another, ooh. Minute or so? All good things come to those who make others wait, so take as much time as you like." 

In his mind's eye, he sees Jackdaw feeling guilty at first for eating slower than everyone else, then later for not spending more time savouring it. And he's just happy for the quiet, for the moment - too much trying to negotiate hostile audiences today. The soup's helping him get the taste of his foot and Flood out of his mouth, first.