A snowy trek to Camelot

[Lady Aslinn Draconis]

The trek to Camelot was a long one. Far from exciting, but then what ride in a stuffy carriage was considered fun filled. Having been use to travel alone, or with limited escorts, it was no surprise to her that her father saw that she had a lot more. Several handmaids to accompany her to Camelot and stay the length of Aslinn’s stay there. As well as several men at arms to escort her to the castle, possibly to make certain that Aslinn arrived. Tintagel was her destination; one that her mother hoped would be fruitful. While Aslinn’s father felt it would be simply grand for her to get out and see that countryside and learn of new places, make new acquaintances and such. He cursed suitors when they came to call, just as much as Aslinn had.

One time Aslinn recalled her father sneaking out early one morning for a ride in the Mercia countryside. Stealing into his daughter’s room, awaking her and ushering her to get dressed and meet him in the stables. He had even left word with his guards to turn their attention elsewhere should she come upon them. They would ride for a good part of the morning. Breaking for a brief meal by one of the many brooks that lined the forest floor nearby their home. They picnic, talked and laughed at the state her mother would be in once she realized Aslinn was not home to greet the suitors she had called for. This was one of the reasons she loved her father so much. But at times when he was on her side and had her back. He was over protective, due to his worrying.

The carriage she rode in was still a fair size. It carried three others, as well as Aslinn. There was another carriage that carried all her belonging. Clothing, accessories, her own bedding so she would feel more at home during her stay here. She did not know the details of her coming to Camelot or just how long she was to remain. But court was court and one had to show their face at some point in time. She just didn’t want to have to do it without her family present. For now she would be held accountable for her actions. At times she was able to excuse herself and disappear for hours without answering for it, other then saying she dozed off in her chamber, or was reading quietly somewhere.

A slender hand rose and drew back the velvet curtain within the cabin. The view outside was one of winter splendid. It had started snowing again. She grumbled something under her breath. She did not care much for the cold weather and snow. Though it did have its moments of rare beauty. This moment she was dreading their continuation to Camelot as the weather became worst. She released the curtain, turning to look about her, three handmaids asleep on the cushiony bench that they had traveled upon without complaint for several hours now. The moment she stirred in her seat one of the women’s eyes popped open, moved forward and asked if she needed anything. Aslinn’s eyes turned upon the woman, her mood was slowly getting worst for wear, but she smiled politely as she shook her head. “I am fair, Annabel. Rest.”

One would think to look at her that she was sweet, innocent and a caring person, in which was. Though when backed in a corner or not getting her way. Aslinn has been known to act a little irrationally. Her handmaids have often had to cover for her when she sneaks away without explaining where she is going. Also to clean up a room that had experienced the young lady’s wrath. Her temper is indeed great, though it takes a lot for it to come to surface. Though as of late with her mother on her case, her temper seems to ignite without much provoking.

Quietly Aslinn sat thinking upon this new chapter in her life. What was she to do in Camelot? She was certain her mother was up to something. A letter had been written and sent ahead explaining her arrival. Aslinn figured it would simply just announce her. One was usually called to court. In fact that was what Aslinn had thought, or her mother had told her, but her youngest of siblings was unable to keep his tongue and she learned of her mother’s treachery. It was in this thought that she was lost. That was until the carriage lifted off the ground on the right side and came crashing down upon the snow-covered ground. Startling all within that had been asleep.

The carriage lunged to the left and hit something. Aslinn was tossed to the floor. One of her maids slipped form the bench and on top of her, while the other two fought to remain in their places. A mess of skirts and robes jostled about the cabin as the four women within tried to steady themselves. Aslinn cried out when one of the girls stepped on her hand. She coiled back holding her hand to her chest as she knelt upon the floor of the cabin. The carriage came to an abrupt stop, only to roll back then forward again. The door flew open and a concerned look upon one of the men-at-arms face looked about the cabin for one face in particular, Lady Aslinn Draconis.

“Lady….” He got out only to stop abruptly when he saw her face. Her face red, but was she mad, or embarrassed? He could not tell for the sobbing women about draw his attention away from her. “The carriage has broken its axel. The wheel struck a large hold in the ground.” He would have continued to explain in detail the mess outside but these were women, what did they know about anything. “I am afraid that you all have to get out of the carriage so the men could get a better look at it and see if it can be fixed.”

Aslinn’s dark blue eyes widened, “How far from Camelot are we?”

His gaze dropped, and he looked at if he was afraid to tell her. “Ah…. a good distance. I am not too sure the exact distance but a good three hours on foot. But I fear it will take longer for the snow is getting worst.”

Aslinn pushed the maid that was sitting partially on her still to the side and climbed off the floor and out of the carriage. She would quickly see that her gown was corrected and soothed down as well as her robes wrapped about her. The snow had indeed picked up that she could barely see ten feet on either side of them. “What are you waiting for? Send a rider to Camelot. Explain the situation and have them send aid or a carriage.”

“Yes milady.” Then man said, bowing and turning quickly away and seeing that orders were given to start trying to fix the carriage, while he send two riders to Camelot.

Aslinn stood looking about. She quickly drew her hood up over her head. Tucking her hands beneath her robes. It was freezing. She looked to one of the men nearby and ordered him to start making a fire. She would then return to the carriage to see to her ladies.

[Joscelin Trevalion]

It was one of those rare days that came sometimes in the midst of winter, a day that reminded one that spring must come sometime, that the life of the forest was sleeping in the dark rich soil under the blanket of cold white snow. The sky was a bottomless blue, the dark green of the pines a stabbing contrast. The white snow held a light of its own, glinting so brightly that Joscelin squinted even from afar from within the safety of his solarium. There was a perfection to the scene that nothing man-made could even imitate.

Then the sudden sound of knuckles upon the oaken entryway nigh shattered such.

"Come," Joscelin calls out as his chin tucks toward his chest so that his eyes - once surveying the calm winter - were settling upon a splayed sheet of vellum. It held the lines imagined upon the world's face; a map that was painstakingly inked by Joscelin's own very hand. It had become somewhat of a hobby of his and one that required utter skill with a steady hand.

That door came open at his back and became an open maw to the warmth within the keep proper. As for his solarium? It was somewhat chill with the open windows and parted drapery. It was what he preferred. It's what he had grown accustomed to and was ever so fond of even from childhood. That didn't mean much the same for anyone else though.

That's why Aemon shudders.

"M'lord," Aemon begins; a loyal man who had ever been devout to his faith and to Joscelin both. "You have called for me?" The words nearly go unheard though. All the while Joscelin hums to himself before wrinkling his nose somewhat. His tongue settles against the inside of his cheek.

"Yes, I have, Aemon." Joscelin utters and sets down his quill. He tips his face to peer over his shoulder to his loyal companion and offers a beatific smile. "It seems I'm to go to Camelot."

Braving the chill of winter would be a fool's errand. Yet, this is Joscelin William Trevalion, and he's a man who savors the thrill of an adventure, and cares naught for the elements. No matter how long this venture may take, Joscelin will brave the world at his Grace's call.

There would be a sudden uproar amongst the men who were there attending Aslinn; after all, no land was without their share of highway robbers, but one would never know the sort of company they could find upon the open road. It was much more safe to be cautious than not here. The truth was, though, was that even Joscelin hadn't expected to run upon others.

The uproar was enough to establish a semblance of tension within the air but certainly not enough to startle Joscelin entirely. He held his calm demeanor even then and there. He was the son of lord Barquiel Trevalion and he'd allow no other to run him over. Yet, Joscelin was likewise no fool and kept his distance as his mounted men trailed at his heels; struggling to keep with the lordling Trevalion. He was not alone, of course. Once again, he was no fool.

He could espy a fire from afar and others milling about the makeshift camp that had been struck out within the midst of a mounting snow storm. Joscelin could only purse his mouth as Aquilon - his trusted and companionable bay horse - stamped his hooves with impatience.

"Shh," Joscelin croons and sets his calloused hand upon the great neck of his companion. He could feel the muscles work beneath and ripple as his heels nestle upon Aquilon's flanks. "Calm, Aquilon. Ah, Aemon," Joscelin breathes out and lifts a hand to gesture with a finger toward his trusted swordsman who rode forth to his flank to heed his lord master's call.

From afar Joscelin and his entourage would undoubtedly look like a band of brigands. The truth was, was that they wore foreign garb and an assortment of wolfhides and skins to fend off the chill. Joscelin himself looked as far from nobility as could be but he did stand out with his white wolf pelt, and that eyeless head riding low upon his brow. He nearly looked barbaric, truly, but he was anything but. He simply favored the garb. Either way, he lolls his head to Aemon.

"Look at that carriage of theirs," Joscelin states with both hands falling to the pommel of his saddle. "I'd reckon they need some help, eh?" Joscelin asks. "M'lord, we should press forth lest we run --" Joscelin lifts a hand. "Ah, Aemon, you're harsh. I may be my father's son but I have the compassion of my lady mother," Joscelin says simply - whoever she was.

"Send the wagon and pack mules up ahead. We'll stop," Joscelin states firmly and tucks his chin toward his chest. "I...Joscelin, allow --" Joscelin didn't allow him to speak. He cut him off once more and was already riding forth. "I can tend to myself, Aemon," Joscelin assures him, and with that Joscelin rides forward with ease with nothing proving of his station but for the glint upon one finger that signified of House Trevalion; of that foreign noble status. He lifts a hand high and nudges the eyeless mask of that white-wolf from his head to reveal sable and tousled hair.

"I offer assistance!"

It's with that call that his men reveal themselves over the bend and the train of a wagon and pack mules stubbornly plod on behind a handful of armed men. As for Joscelin? He was drawing closer and he kept his hands within clear sight as he sat there elegantly upon Aquilon's back. There was no doubt to his grace.

That, and he smiled ever so brilliantly; disarmingly.

[Lady Aslinn Draconis]

Time seemed too past ever so slowly. The snow never once showed them any mercy. Nature was unforgiving at times such as the incontinence of a broken down carriage. The few men that had accompanied Aslinn on her trek to Camelot were busy milling about creating a fire for warmth, though the blowing wind seemed to hamper every measure they told to build. One of them even suggested cutting a panel out of the carriage in order to provide a better shelter for them. Aslinn had thought it ridiculer to do, for how would they get home. Though when they explained that they knew not the length of time that it would be before help came, well them her thoughts changed. Leaving the procurement of the camp to the men.

The minutes felt like hours, or at least they did to Aslinn. She was not one to sit for long in one place. If she cold pace, then she paced rather then sit. If she was to walk, she ran, if she was to ride gingerly through a pasture, she bolted through the meadows at time bareback. Only after these acts did she receive an earful from her mother. A cold and callous woman her mother was. Aslinn’s skin prickled at the thought of the woman. It was not that she held no love for the woman. She bore her, and raised her, though the help of many governesses aided in her upbringing as well, possibly where her free-spirited ways developed.

Aslinn stood looking at the sorry site of ladies before her. None here would have been able to fend for themselves if they got lost in the manor back home. Perishing inches from the kitchen simply because they were distracted by a pretty hue of a gown. A soft chuckle escaped her lips, as she looked them over, huddled about the makeshift fire pit. Warming their hands toward the fire. Aslinn paced the perimeter of the fire. Close enough that she felt the heat, far enough that she could see the area about them.
Of course according to her father the guards were there for her protection. She had heard his orders to Calen, one of her father’s most trusted generals. Why he was given such a task in bringing her to Camelot, it seemed like overkill to her. Perhaps it had to do with her feeling comfortable. She had known Calen since she was a babe. There was no one else that she trusted more then he. Though at times he even questioned how much she trusted him. She seemed to do everything in her power to work against him and his orders. Especially those orders that came from her mother, not so much her father’s orders, but those from her mother, Aslinn seemed to go beyond disobeying them to simply get the reaction.

“Miss you should sit and rest. The cold can take a lot out of you if your not careful.” Calen explained, though wondering if Aslinn would heed him out here. “It is not wise to exhaust one’s self.”

Aslinn tilted her head to the side, lolling her head around to look Calen fully in the face. She dismisses his words but not attending to them. “How long have they been gone?” She asked, her hands rubbing together before she curled them into the sleeves of her robes. “It’s been several has it not?”

Calen drew a long sigh as he pressed his right hand to his brow. Pressing his thumb and index finger into his brow and temple. His dark eyes narrowed upon the ground. She was not going to hear of anything he had to say. Even if it was just an offering of knowledge, she was not to be told. “They have only been gone an hour, maybe a bit more. But the time they reach Camelot, which might be another hour, that will be over two hours, then another to get to the right place, as you know they are not familiar with Camelot. They will have to speak to the King and get word to send aid to us here. If they wish to that is. They might deem it to dangerous, a lost of a horse to strangers from Mercia. We will be lucky if they are not beheaded and we freeze here.” He could not help but tease her, only knowing to well her reply.

“A horse!” She said as she became rather animated at Calen’s words. A fire lit under her, which could only provide her with a little more heat due to her fiery temper that Calen loved to bring out. “A horse to our frozen corpses. I do not think Camelot wishes the death of a noblewoman on their hands….”

Calen shook his head. She seemed to forget the lives of her guards in light of her own. But he knew that was not the case. Aslinn was a kind soul when she allowed it to shine. There were more times that she seemed to blossom before his eyes, only to wilt when her mother entered the room. He had to admit that the Lady Ambrosus-Draconis was a very hard lady to please. Perhaps this was why he teased Aslinn so. Provide a little bit of light to the girl’s otherwise dark life, when it came to her mother.

Calen chuckled as she looked at the young woman before him. He noted the redness in her cheeks as she was slowly realizing that he was making fun of her. Her jaw clenched as the look upon her face gave a look of displeasure. He could see that she was about to launch into a long speech. Calen shook his head then spotted. Something in the distance beyond their small camp moved across the road. Stepping passed Aslinn his eyes narrowed, as he quickly made a sound to alert the few men that had been busy making the shelter.

Aslinn stood defeated behind Calen. Her hands moved to her hips as she took a few steps forward and followed after him. “Calen…that was rude….” His hand jutted out behind his back to her. An order she knew to take serious and silence herself. Her willowy form stood draped in her dark maroon robes. She stood out against the snow, as did the rest of her group. Her ladies robes matched her own in style though their coloring was darker, and a shade off. Marking them, as nobles so there would be no hiding that. But that was only if those that approached were educated. At this moment Aslinn saw nothing.

It was not long before her ladies were at her back. Their insistent prattle ringing in Aslinn’s ear. Concerned with who it was that approached their camp. Aslinn wanted to scold them for their lack of tact and knowledge. It was a toll road and therefore anyone could use it. If they were bandits they would have come from the sides, surrounded the camp and take the men out possibly from afar and possibly at night. She shook her head at their silliness.

“What is it?” She would ask Calen. He did not answer her. Aslinn’s own dark gaze locking upon the distance of their camp as a dark form appeared upon it. Slowly Aslinn’s attention spread from the single rider on horse back to the other dark plots against the white backdrop appearing on the flanks of either side of the first rider. “Bandits?”

The moment that Aslinn uttered the word she wished she hadn’t. Her ladies behind her gave a squeal and clung to one another. Which, due to the snow and the lack of better footwear caused them to topple themselves over one another for a second time. Aslinn was able to avoid them with sheer luck more then anything as one of them tugged at the back of her robes.
She looked down at her ladies and shook her head rather disappointedly. Why were they here? They served no really purpose. She furrowed her brow, only turning about to Calen as he armed himself. Her dark gaze lifted to the distance as the riders came forward. Her left hand rose and shielded the snow from her vision. She saw hands go into the air. The first ride was well ahead of the others Calen’s blade unsheathed as the riders approached. Could he take them? They numbers were well above their own. She took note of the pelts that donned the rider’s forms. Then to the heads of the riders, animal pelts with head an all. Charming she thought, ~they must be bandits.~

“Calen what do we do?” She asked, as waited for Calen’s hand to rise and brandish his sword to the oncoming riders. He was silent and still. Not one muscle moved. Though his jaw clenched tightly as he waited patiently. “Calen…” Aslinn spoke again, her gaze locked upon the dark figure that moved toward them. It was then that he called out as he removed the eyeless mask from his head.

"I offer assistance!"

”Is it aid?” Aslinn whispered to Calen, who only grunted and kept a firm eye upon the man that drew near. His own hand remained firmly upon the hilt of his sword, the point angled toward the ground.

“Oh he is handsome…” One of the ladies behind Aslinn uttered, which only drew giggles and gasps from the others.
At least they had righted themselves she thought. Her gaze returned to the man. He sat tall upon his horse she would give him that. He could still be a rogue or bandit, one could never be too careful, as she noted that Calen was being.

Calen stood firmly in place upon the edge of the road. “State your name before you come closer friend.” His tones were dark, as he was in a dark mood at the moment. He was unsure of their intentions. But stating that you were their to aid could be a ruse. Calen’s keen eye noted the ring upon the young man’s ring. “I beg pardon sir.”

Aslinn’s eyes narrowed at Calen’s change in demeanor. What was happening? Did Calen know this man? Aslinn turned her attention from Calen to the man. Still shielding her face from the blowing snow. Her other hand held her hood in place. They were red and rather cold as she had not stayed by the fire long enough to warm them. They were starting to hurt, but she could forgo the slight discomfort for the time being as she was curious and actually thankful for what aid they could get if that was what these people were planning to offer them.

[Joscelin Trevalion]

What did he feel then?

There's a semblance of excitement that floods him at stepping forth through the wailing winds and whipping snow. He had always been one with little to no fear for his own well being. That's not to say he'd carelessly risk his life time and again but he was certainly more willing and able than most men. It was something that often caused some annoyance to Aemon; his guardsman and companion both.

He half-expected the armed guard to lunge at him but men who hold swords often have some semblance of honor - bandit or no. It was what Joscelin had been depending on albeit there were times where fear could drive a man toward unforgivable things. Luckily for Joscelin this man was the former. He turned to be patient and considerate; to question him.

"State your name before you come closer friend."

At this Joscelin looked from the guard's face and over the strewn camp and overturned carriage. Then his eyes flit over the hens gaggling amongst themselves; huddling tight and close from the chill except for one. She stood out amongst them and he could easily mark this one woman as nobility. As for what House? He was unsure. That could be learned though.

"I beg pardon sir."

Joscelin had known the other would apologize. 'Tis why Joscelin wears his signet ring to speak of his station. Yet, he'd still offer the knowledge to assure somewhat of a calm over the tension that seemed to come from the camp as a whole. He wanted to help them and not strike fear.

"I'm Joscelin William Trevalion," he states firmly as his eyes settle upon that one woman, and for a fleeting moment, he was meeting her gaze evenly. He was speaking to her and only her. "Lord Joscelin William Trevalion," he adds for her benefit. Their benefit as a whole as his gaze tears from her own only to settle upon the guardsman's. He settles comfortably upon the saddle all the while and leans back somewhat with his chin tucked toward his chest.

His sable tresses were peppered with snow alongside the faint stubble upon his cheeks. It did not seem to bother him overly much. It seemed little bothered him then and there as his tongue strokes the length of his lower lip. "I offer my men to you. They will look to your carriage, but..." And he trails here as he gestures with his chin toward the overturned carriage. "If ill luck has fallen you and the carriage is for naught then you may ride with us. I have a wagon and we can make sufficient space for the women and any injured," he says simply and eyes those within the camp proper. "If there are any injured," he adds lastly.

At first glance none seemed to be hurt but lingering within sight of the elements could be a harsh thing and especially more so with the growing winds. He looks down to the one guard who was undoubtedly taking charge of the moment from the beginning. Joscelin found respect for that sort of demeanor. He offers a brilliant smile that pulls at the corners of his mouth and bares white teeth.

"Then again," he says suddenly. "If you had ill luck then mayhap I would have never come across you, eh?" He asks but at that question his face was turning and he looking back to her. That one woman that stood out amongst the rest and he made his gaze more than obvious. As for that smile? He seemed to smile even more wider.

All the while his own entourage drew closer as the plodding pack mules came to a steady halt and a jostling wagon slowed thereafter. They were near enough now that their faces could be seen. It seemed that Joscelin's men were from all walks of life and age; some young and brash, and others seasoned and ravaged by time. They were both fearsome and dashing but Joscelin stood out amongst them all more for the eccentric air he carried than anything else. At Aemon's approach his tongue smoothed from the common tone to his lilting milk tongue.

"Aemon, look to their carriage and see what can be done. If there's naught that we can do then we'll offer them passage as far as Camelot*," Joscelin says simply and Aemon nods his head curtly in acknowledgement. Without a word Aemon nudged his mounth forward only a slight before sweeping off of the saddle. Joscelin, though, was quick to speak to assure no offense.

"My man here will look to your carriage. As for now, mayhap we may offer some semblance of shelter for the women lest they catch a cold? It would be a shame if they were to fall ill," Joscelin says and smiles; he even accentuates his words with the gesture of a hand toward the wagon. At the same time his men seemed to already fall into order and begin to shuffle within that back of that covered wagon to assure some space for any others.

[*Camelot will sound the same in his tongue as it did in the common tongue. So, Aslinn or Calen will know he made mention of Camelot.]

[Lady Aslinn Draconis]

Calen’s demeanor had changed a great deal. Aslinn had thought it odd, especially in the middle of an abandoned road, in the midst of a snowstorm. The passage of idle chatter seemed lost on her as she stood looking at Calen wondering what it was that had him change his tune so quickly. If these men were bandits did he have a plan to lure them into a sense of false security before pouncing on them. She hardly thought Calen capable of such thoughts. He was plan and plan some more, ever cautious and well…planned. Aslinn knew this to be a quality to be admired in any person, but it was predictable. Calen was a predictable man, but she could not fault him for it. He was a good man and most trusted. Her father trusted her life to him, and Calen would see that she was delivered to Camelot unharmed.

She watched as Calen lowered his sword. Burying the tip into the snow before resting his palm casually upon the pommel of his sword. He took up a more causal stance, before he bowed his head to the man. Aslinn stood for a time confused as to Calen’s actions. He did not turn to acknowledge her or introduce her. But he did nothing to even acknowledge that she was there. That was until she took a step forward. Calen’s right hand had been drawn behind his back, angled so that it was bent at the elbow. His hand closed into a soft fist, then spread wide and gesture toward her. She took this to mean for her to stay back. It was just a little something she had gotten use to have Calen watch her like a hawk since she was a child.


Calen’s head rose from his paying respects to the man. A look of acknowledgement was expressed to the man before Calen took to sheathing his sword. He did not wish to appear nervous or disrespectful to the man. Though he was dressed for the cold, and in wolf pelts, the ring upon his finger spoke far more volumes. Calen did not wish to make a mistake when his own station was at stake. He represented Mercia, and he did not wish to fail but being simply disrespectful to a Lord of another court. Calen gaze assessed the young man before him. Noting the man’s gaze as it looked over to the makeshift camp, and those about it. He even took note of the young man’s gaze as it shifted back to him only to alter a little and look to Aslinn. Calen stood taller, extending to his full height. Not blocking the man’s view of her, but to shift it.

Aslinn’s dark sapphire gaze took note of Calen’s protective taking over when the man’s gaze came upon her. She would hold his gaze for a long as she could. She wished to show that she was not bashful nor intimidated by one that sat higher then herself, though he was only upon the back of a horse. The wind picked up at that moment which called for her to shield herself, by turning her face toward her shoulder. Which called her gaze to come up complete and locked with the man.
~ Joscelin William Trevalion, ~

He seemed to direct his attention to her, his eyes, his voice everything was for her benefit it seemed. She wondered if her cheeks blushed for how intense his gaze had been. She had never grown accustom to long looks such as his. In fact she did not know a man in Mercia that had done so. Of course she was always in the company of her bothers, so perhaps that had something to do with it. He seemed to bring home the fact that he was a lord, as he so pointedly expressed to her again.

“There are no injured, merely their pride.” She uttered, unable to help herself at the expense of her ladies. A smirk played upon her face before Calen’s throat clearing brought her back to the respect she should be showing the man. “Your Lordship.” She uttered, sounding as sweet as she was sure Calen hoped she would be. No one needed to see her moody side, not at this moment. She would curtsey as best she could stand in the snow, with the wind boring down on them. “We thank you for any aid that you can offer.” Upon offering her thanks she turned to see to her ladies. They were still looking after the man like lovesick girls. “We are fortunate then sir.” She stated over her shoulder.

Calen stood looking after Aslinn then looked back to the man. “I beg pardon sir. She is tired and cold. She means no disrespect. But any aid you wish to offer we gladly accept.”


(sorry so short)

[Joscelin Trevalion]

"Disrespect?" He questions of the one man speaking for the entirety of the camp as a whole. That had come to be after she had spoken though. Joscelin smiles to assure he was not offended though. "There was none taken I assure you. I will gladly help where I can though," Joscelin assures him and leans back within his saddle.

"I am traveling as far as Camelot, sir..." Joscelin trails and looks expectant for the man's name to say the very least. "I'm sure you may figure out what you may do from there. Either way, my man will look to your carriage, and..." Joscelin trails once more and offers a smile to her.

"I offer you my word that I will do all that I can to assure your comfort and safety," he says simply. There's a pause when he looks back to that seasoned man. "Is there anything of note that must be taken?" He asks with brows lifting at the query. Oh, certainly a woman of her stature wouldn't leave her homestead without at least one or two trunks of clothing and other womanly necessities.

"If so, then, you have leave of my men to set them within the wagon. There --" He's cut off by one of his own men; a seasoned man of mid-age. It's within his milk tongue as well and the announcement that there's room to carry anyone who wished for such. Joscelin nods curtly and relays the knowledge to both that sapphire-eyed woman and the man both.

"There's room now," he says simply and gestures with his hand to the wagon. "Would you be so kind as to come, lady...Ah, I don't believe I've ever gotten your name," he says simply and awaits such with an eagerness that made him look utterly boyish.

[Short today as well. I'm somewhat out of it, sorry.]

[Lady Aslinn Draconis]

Aslinn had turned to the group of women huddled together practically undressing the man. She rolled her eyes and quickly clapped her hands. Why was it that she had to look after everyone? Her ladies were there for her support, not to be remained of their wits and senses when a young man entered the room. A soft wince came from her at the clapping of her bitterly cold hands. That will teach her to forgo heat. She could feel Calen’s eyes bore through her, as she without thought pretty well dismissed the Lord. She sucked her bottom lip in and under, as she turned to rectify the situation before she created offense, and her father’s name in ruins. True it was extreme thinking on her part, but Calen would pretty much tell her that it would.

She turned and curtseyed again. “Your kindness is greatly welcomed.” She glanced to Calen, before bringing her attention back to Joscelin. From his appearance he looked like no lord, but in mannerisms he held all. His speech was eloquent and well versed. She could not help but admire the way he sat tall in the saddle. Her gaze crinkling just at the corner as she noted the way one hand held the reins of his horse and the other touched the animal’s neck. So he liked animals…what man did not. Hunter’s loved their trusted dogs to not run off with the days kill. She withdrew her gaze when she felt his upon her again. “My people thank your kindness sir.” She made sure to let him know it was not entirely her delight.

Calen remained between Aslinn and Joscelin. Trying to get a better handle on their situation. He would interject when given an opportunity to do so. Bowing at the young lord’s words of aid. “We thank you, as milady has so agreeably stated." Calen saw no reason to withhold further knowledge of who their were. He curled his hand into a fist and tapped it against his chest. “Calen Dykstra, Captain Calen Dykstra.” He stated, glancing toward Aslinn for a moment. His thought to acknowledge her birthright or keep her hidden, one never knew what political intrigues lurked in far and distant lands, especially at the side of the road, in a snowstorm. “This is my dau….” He started, but was cut off.

“I am not his daughter.” She stated, as she came to Calen’s side. She was about to explain to him just who she was when she felt Calen’s gaze harden upon her.

Shaking his head at her need to correct him, Calen could do nothing else but feel the fool. She knew that she was to announce herself to the king and no one else. A look of frustration crosses the Captain’s face as he looked upon Aslinn. He stepped to Aslinn’s side and firmly took her by the elbow. Leaning inward, he whispered to her. It was her place to listen and understand his orders given. At times he wondered if she thought before she spoke. With his words conveyed, Aslinn’s faced reddened and she dropped back, excusing herself from their conversation for the moment.

Calen returned his attention to Joscelin and stated what they had need of bringing along with them. Clothing could be bought, though Calen was certain that Aslinn would throw a fit if certain things were not brought along. For the sake of her wrath he decided to take her two trucks. As well as those that belonged to her ladies, which numbered in two for the three that accompanied them. If there were no room, he would leave one of his men to guard it until they were able to get a carriage sent back.

The giggling behind her rose slightly, coming from her ladies. Aslinn’s head turned sharply as she glared at them. One cleared her throat, only to elbow the others who at this time were still staring at Joscelin. It was not like he was the only man around? She did not understand their obsessive need to pine over men in the way that they seemed to do. It only seemed to get worst when Joscelin’s men came over to help with their situation. Some of them tending to the carriage, as a few of Calen’s men showed them the problem. The axel had snapped, and rendered the carriage useless, except for it being used as firewood.

Catherine, a slender, dark haired woman, a year younger then Aslinn seemed to take charge of showing one of Joscelin’s men their trunks. It was not long before the others joined her, two bickering as they found the same young man attractive. Aslinn could only shake her head and turned from their juvenile behavior. Was it possible that all did not have to revolve around pairing, and the need to procreate the species? She had often thought of her mother’s relentlessness when it came to such matters. Her father sending her to Camelot saved her from her mother’s desires for a greater place in the world, but now Aslinn could not help but become suspicious of the reasons to why she was sent to Camelot. Win a husband, what on this god’s green earth for.

Aslinn’s gaze lingered upon a mid-aged man as he came to stand before Joscelin. Explaining that there was now room in the wagon for them. Aslinn was indeed use to the luxuries of traveling in comfort. She bowed her head just slightly, her right hand, red from the cold, rose to the edge of her lip as she came thought to a better way to travel. She would turn from the pair, calling for one of her ladies. A short, full figured woman came rushing to Aslinn’s side. Isobel, the pleaser. She bowed and curtseyed several times too many. Spoke in on running sentences and constantly pestered. Aslinn found her amusing at times, and yet her heart was soft for the woman.

“Isobel, might you see to my truck and fetch me my riding cloak, the one with the fur trim. It’s much warmer then this one.” She gestured to the traveling cloak she was dressed in. She was surprised that she did not feel the cold more dressed as she was, dressed as they all were.

Isobel nodded quickly, “Yes, miss.”

She was quick to leave Aslinn, and even quicker to tend to her task. She knew what truck the cloak was in. though it was nestled beneath a long leather casing. She struggled with it for a time. Propping it up with the aid of one shoulder, while her hands busied themselves with fiddling beneath it. Finally finding it she tugged the cloak free. Allowing the truck to slam closed and two men carried it to the wagon. She held the cloak out before herself and soothed it out. Making her way to Aslinn she would smile and quickly hand it to her. “My lady…”

“Thank you Isobel.” Aslinn said, expressing her gratitude. It was in this moment that she drew her cold red hands toward her hood and drew it back. Dark locks meticulously twisted and pinned in intricate loops against her head. A few front pieces sweep across her brow and held in place by stylish clips she had received from her father on her last birthday. Her hands slipped forward to the clasp, taking a few moments to work it back. She winced again as she felt the cold in each digit. She removed her cloak, handing it to Isobel before taking up the other cloak.

Her new cloak was much warmer as she replaced it. Tapered in the waist, with buttons along the front. She worked them with some degree of difficulty. The inside of the cloak was lined with short fine fur. Something she had brought back from her mother’s homeland. Mink she had been told. She finished doing the buttons and soothed the cloak against her form. Ushering any cold air that might of pocketed within. It is in this moment that she looked to Joscelin as he gestures toward the wagon. He was only now acknowledging the fact that he had forgotten to get her name, “Lady Aslinn Celestine Ambros Draconis.” She would then give him a deep bow, her left arm angled across her torso before standing and looking to the horses trying to shelter themselves by a nearby tree. “My ladies can take the space in the wagon along with your men. I prefer to ride.”


“Milady, that is unwise….”

Aslinn turned to Calen cutting him off. “You of all people should understand that I will not allow any of my people to suffer while I ride in comfort. I am up to the task. Now shall we set out?” She was unsure of what good traveling weather was. Of course at the moment the weather seemed to be working against them. But there was little else they could do. They had the wagons, thanks to Joscelin, so to delay any longer would be foolish. Aslinn would leave the decision to the men. Her dark eyes linger for a time upon them both. She seemed to feel like she was about to crawl out of her skin as she stood there. Abruptly turning with a flare of her new robes. “Let me know.”

Upon that note she went toward the horses to await their decisions.

[Joscelin Trevalion]

Joscelin was sure to incline his head to the young woman's uttered words. It was all well and good to know that others appreciated your offered hand. If things had turned out any different then Joscelin wasn't sure what he'd do. The truth was, was that he couldn't leave them within the cold albeit there were some lordlings that would. He was unlike them though.

He was unlike a lot of others.

It wasn't long until the older man had taken Joscelin's attention once more. He offers a slight smile at his uttered words. Calen Dykstra. He'd remember the name and as surely as that had begun to store the man's name within the annals of his mind. Then he had begun to speak once more but that young woman was fast with her wit and tongue both.

Joscelin, though, lifts his brows with clear question filling those eyes of his. Was there a semblance of tension amongst the camp members? Mayhap. It certainly wasn't his place to prod and figure such things out. He was within a foreign nation and wasn't one to stir trouble where he had none; much less fall to something horrid before he even got to stand within the shade of Camelot's walls.

It wasn't long until Calen was returning and telling Joscelin what they must bring along. It would be two trunks to his lady's name and then another two for the accompanying women. Joscelin was quick with relaying such information to his own men within his milk tongue. There was room enough to say the very least and Joscelin was quick to stating that his men will place each trunk away from them to assure space for both each trunk and the women as well.

Joscelin wasn't unaware of the happenings between the women. Yes, he couldn't hear them entirely but he could feel their eyes upon him. He likewise had caught the motions between them from afar. All the while Joscelin listened to Calen and gave his ear to the man without a hitch. It was something uncommonly found within most lordlings. Yet, Joscelin listened and so did his men who looked upon the carriage with a frown and the others sought the trunks to carry off and set away.

Then he had her name.

...Lady Aslinn Celestine Ambros Draconis...

Lady Aslinn spoke on about what she wished to do. She longed to ride with them without the comfort and warmth of the wagon proper. Joscelin's mouth falls open to utter a word but Calen speaks out and Aslinn soon after. He found the entirety of the moment rather amusing to say the very least and those blue eyes of his warm with mirth.

"Who am I to tell you what you should do, Lady Aslinn? You wish to ride. So, you ride with me and my men, and we will assure your safety alongside Sir Calen, of course." It's all he utters with an assuring smile and warmth within those blue eyes. He watches her off then as she saunters along toward the horses. Joscelin redirects his gaze unto Calen. "Mount up then, Sir Calen. We leave now for the storm will not wait for us." It's all Joscelin truly says as Aemon left the carriage to approach his own mount and relay the knowledge that there was little to be done.

That was well and good though. They were able to help at the very least and assure their safety and lives. Joscelin sits a little taller within the saddle and nudges his mount forth to wheel about their makeshift camp before whistling at the other younger women to catch their attention.

"Come now," he says to them without shame. He tosses his head toward the wagon where his men await their company to assist them within to settle upon the flat bed of the wagon proper. It's with that that Joscelin looks back to Calen and soon after toward Aslinn expectantly.

He waited then on her word.

"My Lady Aslinn," Joscelin calls to her with a distinct timbre. "Shall we make our way to Camelot, then?" Joscelin asks of her with a wide and toothy smile; eyes gleaming.

[Lady Aslinn Draconis]

(I added to my post it was not quite finished.)


Her hand caressed the muzzle of the animal as she leaned into its neck. It was warm there. She had not thought of her words when she abruptly spoke them. It was cold out, and Aslinn was not one for the cold, she thrived in warmer weather. She smiled as her horse nuzzled into her hand, only to winced as the warm breath of the beast caused her skin to tingle, and hurt. She should have packed for terrible weather then hoping to remain indoors until the summer came. That was if she was still in Camelot by that time. She was hoping not to be. She liked her home in Mercia with her father and brothers, her mother; well she would tolerate her mother for a season.

Calen turned from Lady Aslinn and looked to Joscelin. “Many thanks again to the aid you are offering. I will make sure to write my Lord Eramus about your kindness and aid offered to his daughter. He will see that your household receives the best of his foals come the spring. My lord has a good breed of Warhorses, sir.” Calen told Joscelin wishing to convey further just how grateful they were.

Calen’s gaze then traveled pass Joscelin to Aslinn as she stood by the horse. Shaking his head, he wondered just how long he was to remain in Camelot himself. He was a Captain sent to baby-sit his Lord’s child. To him that was just how Aslinn acted at times. Which at this time he felt slightly embarrassed by her manners. She was outspoken, and a forked tongue at times when tact and politeness would get her further. Perhaps not knowing a sole in Camelot would right her attitude. He could only hope. Calen would then excuse himself from Joscelin to tend to the loading of their things into the wagon, as well as Aslinn’s ladies.

The woman would busy with TRYING to aid Joscelin’s men with the trucks and such. It seemed to take longer to move things with the women helping. Aslinn shook her head at their antics and turned from it. She thought then silly, and annoying so. All they cared about was snagging a husband. A knight, a lord, a man with good coin, and breeding, so that their families would be pleased, she could not help but scoff at them. It was rude for her to do, but she could not help an honest truth when it was there before her.

Her gaze lifted to Joscelin when he spoke. She tilted her head to the side acknowledging his words and offering a smile, for a brief moment. She had thought she was about to argue the fact she was capable of riding amongst them, but his agreeing, or allowing her took her back. Her gaze traveled to Calen who had looked in her direction at that moment, shaking his head and returning to his task of loading the wagons.

Once finished with the wagons Calen took to his steed. Pulling his aching body into the saddle. He looked to Aslinn knowing she would need aid up for she did not have the proper attire for riding. His eyes though bugged out of his head when she managed, with ease to pull herself up. Her left leg in the stir-up, her hands firmly in place about the reins as she pulled herself forward hard. She right leg swung up and over the animals back. Her numerous petticoats kicked out of the way, settled over the animal and she was eased into the saddle. She was going to be the death of him.

She looked to Joscelin, “Indeed, I am ready to get out of this snow and before a fire.” She said as she turned her horse toward the wagons. “Are we to lead or follow?” Her attention turning to Joscelin “How far are we to ride before he get to Camelot?”

She would look to him from time to time. Not wishing to have him think that she was staring at him like her ladies. She was a smart young woman. She did wish to fawn over a man simply because he was dashing or handsome. Not that she found him handsome or dashing. Aslinn cringed when she felt a flush of heat in her cheeks. She would have to remind herself to keep eye contact to a minimum. She did not wish top appear as ridiculous her maids appeared. Oh why was she forced to bring them along? Her father had been concerned that she would become homesick, so he sent them along with Aslinn.

It was not that she did not care for them. They were dear people, most of the time. That was when not before a MAN. She often wondered what it was about men that caused even the smartest of women to swoon and forget themselves. Becoming giggling girl, instead of proper young woman. Of course Aslinn could not fault them for acting out as they did. Away from their own families they were just expressing themselves away from their tight leashes. Aslinn could only chuckle as she looked at them fawning over Joscelin’s men as they were.

“I feel sorry for your men, sir.” She stated, her left hand rose to draw her hood further over her brow, the tucked the edge inward to ward of the wind from chilling her any further. When her hand drew back she was able to tug the sleeve down and curl her hands into the folds created. “Your men will wish that Camelot were closer.”

Upon stating her thoughts she drew her heels up and into the flank of her horse to get it going. It too a few seconds for the animal to get its bearings and onto the road once again. Her dark eyes would look to Calen as she passed him. “Come along Sir Calen. Must not dillydally.”

Calen had mounted his horse once the wagon was prepared and those traveling within would serve and prepared for the long trek to Camelot. He would furrow his brow at Aslinn. She was prepared to make him appear foolish before even a Lord of court. He had the mind to scold her when they got to Camelot. He understood the stresses of her life, perhaps not as well as the lady herself. But soon she would go too far, and someone would put her in her place. His grey eyes turned to Joscelin, “Are you sure you wish to aid her?” It was a caddy remark, Calen laughed off. He drew the reins toward him and fell in along side Joscelin just behind Aslinn.

“Sir Calen, I heard that.” She stated quickly. Her voice rose over the wind and was directed back at Calen. “If you wish to return to Mercia by all means we can go back now. But you will have to explain to my father why that is. As well as my mother, and why I have come empty handed.”

Calen’s face went red from embarrassment. He had not thought that she would have heard him due to their distance and the terrible wind. The woman had ears like that of a bat he thought. “No miss I do not.” He stated and lowered his head at his humiliation.

“Shall we then?” she asked, making an effort to turn in her saddle and look to the men behind her. A hard glare directed at Calen, while it softened and she smiled to him.

[Joscelin Trevalion]

Joscelin's brows lift at Calen's sudden utterance. He hardly expected any semblance of a reward from Calen albeit he had expected a form of thanks. That's what he did receive at the least. "Ah, no, Sir Calen. I assure you I do not need any of that. I'm certain any lordling passing through would have helped. Even the lowliest man would have," he assures Calen.

It seemed that not for one moment Joscelin forgot himself. Yes, he rubbed elbows with his men and spoke with them as he would have his kin, but Joscelin knew his station and held such before the eyes of Calen and Aslinn both. All the while he sat astride his mount with his hands calmly settled upon the pommel. He truly did look regal albeit the assortment of fur and woolen clothing belied such a thing. Then again, one shouldn't be judging another solely on looks.

Joscelin followed her gaze then toward the wagons and soon back at the query or leading or following. Joscelin, though, had the answer. He had never been afraid of taking risks and although Aemon had never been fond of Joscelin thrusting himself to the forefront of any situation, Joscelin did so without shame.

"We'll be leading," he says simply and with a disarming smile at that. Then her second query was answered with the knowledge that he had of the lay of Camelot's surrounding land. He had spent his time planning out the route himself, and of course, with his factor too within Camelot proper.

"Only a handful of hours I'd say," he says and tips his face to the snow flitting downward at them. His eyes flit over the sky which undoubtedly gauge the time of day. "I'm sure we'll see the sun setting by the time we arrive at Camelot's walls," he adds. "Hopefully they'll be accepting of us, eh? It wouldn't do to be confused with marauders now. Especially with such a young woman as yourself," he adds with a smile that widens and becomes nigh toothy.

The truth was, was that he did look like some vagabond with the way he was dressed. That, and the fact that he now had women within his company. They could have come off as highway robbers having claimed their lives. Ah, but Joscelin was anything but that, surely.

Then she stated her sympathy for his men. Joscelin, though, could only look away and to them, and then to the young women fawning. Oh, they were truly girlish, no? It's what he thought of them. They are certainly pretty young women but not of his own taste. That's almost saying a lot though considering Joscelin's own background. He wrinkles a nose and laughs.

"Ah, I assure you that my men have weathered harsher moments," he assures Aslinn and grins at that. It was clear that he knew what she had meant besides the weather. Although the truth about this was moment was the fact that his chosen and trusted men were willing and able for Joscelin only. They were loyal and certainly wouldn't betray him for anything.

All men have hunger for the warmth of a woman though.

All the while the wagon had been prepared and filled with each trunk belonging to the ladies of Aslinn's company. Afterward the men had assisted the women within the wagon bed and after having laid out excess furs and coverlets to make the seating arrangements more comfortable. One of the men made a note of approval by way of a grunt and another chirruped that everything was completed. Aemon, too, was ready to leave. Joscelin, though, was smiling all the while and looking to Calen as the man spoke up to him.

"What sort of man would I be if I hadn't, Sir Calen?" Questions Joscelin with clear merriment making those blue eyes of his gleam. He turns his gaze back to Aslinn as he clucks his tongue. It's then within moments that he's at her side and looking ahead. "I'd be a terrible man for doing such a thing," he says suddenly. "Which I'd like to think that I'm not."

That was the truth to say the very least. He pinches an eye shut at the sudden and brief squabble between Aslinn and Calen; her man, though, submits. He doesn't smile at such a thing though. He didn't like to see a beaten man. Yet, such things happen. Whatever the case may be, though, it did not concern Joscelin. He listened but beyond that he did nothing.

"Of course," Joscelin says simply as an answer to Aslinn's query. Within moments they were off and the wagon behind them came to a rumbling start. Joscelin's armed men gathered together and had begun to make their way forth at their heels. All the while Calen and the rest of Aslinn's retinue were expected to follow ahorse or within the wagon proper.

"So, Lady Aslinn," begins Joscelin. "What brings you to this chill land?"

[Lady Aslinn Draconis]

Aslinn never thought of the way that she and Calen spoke to one another. She had known him most of her life. He had helped raised her brothers. More so on the fields of battle then the nursery. But he was always understanding of her moods and never pressed when she was stretched. The day having not turned out the way that she had planned it. Not that Aslinn planned for anything. This was not her idea to come to Camelot. But it was hard to argue with a tyrant of a woman, that her mother was. Her jaw tensed just thinking about her.

She turned her head slightly in order to hear Joscelin better. His question was one she will be asked over and over. What did she have to hide? It was not like her family was unlike other families. Marrying for power, wealth and land. Her mother was very much like most families. As for her father, well her father was more about warring, unfortunate for Aslinn; he left the marrying to her mother.

“If I have my way I would have come in the spring. Winter is cold and dreary. Though it does hold an unnatural beauty to it at times. Not that this time is such a time.” She explained, her hands curled under the extra fabric of the sleeves of her cloak. “But as to why I have come to Camelot. I wish to learn of these lands once again, for we have only returned from aboard this past year.”

She furrowed her brow as she looked back around at the snow blowing about before them. This trek was going to be a long one. A handful of hours, she did not like the idea of freezing out here, she ponder for a moment to ask if they could ride the animals hard for a spell. But the cold was affecting her, why would they not affect the horses. That would be a cruel feat on her part.

She had thought to return the question but she understood too well the reasons to why men went to Camelot, to join the impressive knights of Camelot. But Joscelin did not seem to be seeking his fame and fortune within the ranks of a grunt, only to become a knight of Camelot. He was a Lord of course he would be taken in at the highest level, perhaps. She was unsure of Camelot’s standards. She only knew her father’s knights were the cream of the crop, the highest lord’s sons trained by the best on Mercia.

Shaking her head and scoffed at her thoughts. She had been about her brothers far to long, and too often. A soft smile came to her lips, that she had to place the edge of her hand against them to stifle her laughter. She missed her brothers dearly. They were her life’s link to her home. When she was aboard they had only stayed a few years until they reached the age to enlist and start their training. They returned to Mercia without her, and left her in her mother’s homeland alone. Upon returning to Mercia she had seen them on many occasions, which was until recent. When her mother left it was best to find her floundering daughter a husband.

“As if Camelot is the place to do such a thing.” She said, not realizing that she had been so lost in thought that she had spoken aloud. Her ears pricked, and her head turned abruptly to Joscelin knowing that he must have heard her. She cleared her throat and continued on as if she were answering his question. “To learn all I can.”

The moment she spoke, she knew she had only repeated her words. Oh she must look the fool. The thought of appearing to others as her ladies did to her made Aslinn panic. She knew wished to be viewed as a ridiculous. Mooning over a man because he is handsome, or has money, or station. These were not the prizes that she valued. She swallowed hard, realizing that her heart was pounding in her chest. A warm rush of heat came suddenly. Embarrassment, Aslinn was comfortable with it, they were old friends.

“I mean, Camelot is a wondrous place.” She stated, as she sat taller in her saddle so that she could shift a little more comfortably. More so that she was turned in the other direction and Joscelin could not see her embarrassment. Truth was that she knew little of Camelot then what her father stated time and again in his war room, which was often off limits to Aslinn, and therefore the greatest invite for her to eavesdrop. “Is it true that they have allowed magic to be used?”

She found a topic, good that would occupy her thoughts. Busy her with thinking then looking at the snow or Joscelin. Though she had to admit that he was a striking man. If one liked a man dressed in the manner that he was. Quickly she scolded herself and cleared her throat again. “My father has stated that he means to speak with Uther upon this matter. Perhaps that is why I have been sent ahead?”

Her brow further, as she gave thought to her words. Had her father deceived her? Was she a pawn to be played with? She wondered, having not thought upon this matter until that moment when she uttered it. What was wrong with magic? She did not know, and at the moment she was thinking she didn’t want to know.

Quickly she righted herself and turned to Joscelin so not to appear rude by any means or self absorbed. "And why are you seeking a place within Camelot's walls?"

[Joscelin Trevalion]

"I'd have to disagree," Joscelin states with a smile that pulls at the corners of his mouth. It was a sly and subtle way of making mention of her own beauty. She's a lovely woman, truly. There's simply no doubt of that. Yet, even without her, Joscelin held a love for winter as a whole and the storms that oft buffeted his own estate within his land proper.

"Then again," he begins, "I suppose I have a love for the chill unlike many others," he admits and laughs at that. He wrinkles his nose somewhat before looking to her with genuine interest. "You're the scholarly sort of woman then, eh?" He questions of her with a lift to his brows. He smiles wide. "That's lovely, truly." There's no doubt to the fact that he found such a thing attractive. It was a rarity when a woman wanted to learn more than the latest court gossip.

There was a moment when she had rambled on though. He hadn't known what she meant by such a thing but he was sure to store that bit of knowledge away. Who knew what that might afford him? There's a lot one could do with a sharp mind such as his own. Then she was speaking of wanting to learn all she could and soon after speaking of Camelot proper. It was a wondrous place, truly. She had the right of that. Her query took up his mind though.

Joscelin will own that he had made an effort to learn more of Camelot before arriving. He had been a passerby through the surrounding land upon one occasion but did little beyond that beforehand. Now, though, he had made use of his web of informants; using them for knowledge of the court and people abroad within the land proper. As for her question? He had the answer.

"So I have learned," he admits. "I must confess that I wish to see such a thing with my own two eyes. The admittance of magic as a practice," he trails and looks thoughtful. "It can advance treaties between lands. It can change things as a whole," he adds and smiles somewhat. It's something that his Grace had wanted to learn of. What sort of power did these men have?

He nods curtly to her own words. "Perhaps," he agrees. "I'm sure your father would trust to your word than any other. That, and having a pair of eyes within a foreign court..." He trails and looks to her with a smile. "Well, that's priceless," he adds simply enough and bites his lower lip.

Mayhap she didn't make note she was a pawn within all of this. The truth was, was that everyone was a pawn at one point. As for Joscelin? He still was one; since the day he had been born 'til now and years from then. He'd be a pawn until the very day he'd lay upon his death bed and even then he'd confess not a thing to anyone for a pawn did not speak of his doings.

"I've spent my years oft within foreign courts. I've learned from them as my father was oft wont to do himself. You may call me a diplomat of sorts; forming bonds between that of my country upon my Grace's behalf," he says simply enough. "I am to do the same between Camelot's own royalty and with that of mine own nation," he explains simply enough. It was truthful to a point.

"As for anything else..." He trails and smiles. "I suppose I'll leave that all to chance," he adds and idly wonders what would come of Aslinn. Would they speak with one another more often than not? The truth was, was that Joscelin surely wouldn't mind. Then again, that was ache of his flesh begging to assure that he'd have a semblance of warmth within the cold walls of Camelot. Then Joscelin was offering something that Aslinn was undoubtedly longing for.

"Would you care to pick up the pace?"

It's with that that Joscelin nudges Aquilon forth.

[Lady Aslinn Draconis]

She turned in Joscelin’s direction. The edge of her hood curled tightly against her cheek, as it caught under her chin. She could felt the winter wind whip across her exposed cheek. Her deep eyes regarding Joscelin as he spoke. He seemed to have a way with words. While Aslinn struggled with her own. Perhaps it was the cold? His mention of her being ~ A scholar sort of woman ~ Gained her full attention. She could not help but take little offend. Was there something the matter of being a woman with a mind? She was sure that he meant it as a compliment, but the way he asked, well she could not help but think it was to patronize her. She furrowed her brow and looked forward, missing his smile, but hearing the rest of his statement.

She could to help but take his words to mean something more then what they were. She furrowed her brow, and bit her tongue. She had wanted to jump at his words and answer back with her rebuttal. She remained silent and continued to stare straight ahead at the snow-blanketed road before them. The weather gave no indication of stopping any time soon. It was during this time she found herself thoughts harder pressed. She gave thought to her words and yet they came out all mixed. Was it the cold or her company? She found it hard to concentrate either way.

She was thankful that Joscelin was quiet as well. Pondering upon things as much as she was. Or perhaps he had little to say to her. Her idle banter was possibly enough to make one not wish to continue the conversation. But silence was never a good friend to Aslinn. She often found it unnerving. Her rambling took her to explain that she wished to learn what she could in Camelot. When he replied to her question about magic. She was surprised that he held an opinion in its regard. Her dark eyes turned and acknowledge Joscelin once more. Her shoulders rolling back as she tried to ward the cold of from seeping into her bones any further. She was only trying to make conversation in order to ward of the cold. She didn’t wish to topple of her horse’s back simply because she feel victim to the cold or boredom.

“You mean topple them in one’s favor.” She added, not realizing just how harshly her words had been uttered. Her gaze turned further as she looked to the vast lands that stretched beyond them. A winter wonderland of unseen power, magic as those in Camelot would call it. “Magic…can only bring sadness. The use of it can only bring downfall…or so my father thinks.”

She was unsure if this was her view or her father’s. She believed it to an extent simply because she did not know herself anything in the light of magic. “As far as my father. He is a good man, but he has others that he answers to. Just asking Uther does I am sure. As do you…” She looked down at her hands as they curled about the reins. It was easier to say one was a pawn then it was to except it.

”Chance,” She uttered under her breath. She had wished to scoff at the word but once again she controlled herself. She was a proper lady, and a proper lady she would remain. She would not speak her mind in the presence of one that might use it against her at a later time. She had seen others used against their will in order to save face with those of higher breeding. She did not know Joscelin and therefore did not wish for anything she uttered to be repeated, especially in King Uther’s court.

She turned her gaze back to Joscelin. There was something about him that seemed pleasing enough. She just wasn’t sure why? He was handsome enough, and he seemed to have a brain in his head and the ability to use it. Perhaps that was what caused her to be leery of him, or perhaps because he hailed from another land and court. And all were leery of those from other houses. She was sure he was pondering her intentions in Camelot. Wondering what holds Mercia had and what they were willing to use to gain power or peace. It was in that moment that she felt her father working through her. She sighed, and looked at the road beyond them. Camelot awaited them.

Looking back to where Calen had taken up his position. Traveling at an even pace gait behind her. She returned her gaze to Joscelin. She nodded, and drew up her reins, as she squeezed her heels in tightly in order to get her horse to move a little quicker. Within mere seconds her animal was jolted awake and darted off down the road. She cried out, in order to spur the animal one. She felt the cold subside a little in her form, as if it had reawakened. She smiled as the feel of the wind as it whipped along her form. Making her cheeks red, and raw as she rode onward ahead of Joscelin. Knowing that he would not be far behind her, as for Calen.

In fact she hoped to lose them for a moment that she could just run her horse hard. Get the life pumped back into them, the horse and herself.

Calen furrowed her brow when Aslinn bolted off. His horse had dropped a shoe and it was hard for it to travel at the gait he had it going. He would look to Joscelin and shake his head. “She will be the death of me. That is for certain.”

[Joscelin Trevalion]

Her words may have been noted as harsh by one but not by Joscelin. He lifts his hands up palm upward and spreads them with a semblance of dismissal. All the while, though, his mother's eyes were utterly bright and filled with merriment. That wasn't to say that he didn't have a semblance of seriousness about him as he did then and there.

"I will have to disagree there, Lady Aslinn; man has been the downfall of humanity since our conception," he says simply. "Magic, though, is but another tool as fire. It can be used to destroy or be harness for the good of all mankind. It all but depends on the man, or woman, who wields such a gift." It's what he tells her simply enough and offers his own stance on the matter.

Then he was smiling somewhat at her mention of the ladder of superiors upon superiors; everyone had someone to answer to. "Yes," he admits. "All men and women have someone to answer to; even if the one may be our Good God." That was the truth, no? How many wars had been fought under the name of God? How many wars had been fought upon the whim for a woman's hand or simply because they had been crossed by another? So many lives lost.

They were all pawns.

Then he caught the drift of her tongue upon the chill winter wind. He had sharp ears and often caught an uttered word when others believed themselves unheard. He didn't call her out though but he did smile. Then she was off within moments; expected, truly. He didn't chase after her yet. He knew when to give someone a semblance of privacy and this moment was one of those. Although when Calen spoke, Joscelin couldn't help but look back to him and nod.

"If you allow her to be," Joscelin tells him simply. "Sometimes you must need to let go and trust her," he adds and then clucks his tongue; heels pressing upon the flanks of his mount and hips jostling forth as he held the reins firmly. Within moments he was off and down the road after her.

Aquilon shuddered with excitement between his thighs; he could feel the heat of his form and the muscles rippling beneath his coat. He could catch sight of his heavy breath misting within the chill air and the staccato beat thumped out upon the road teases his senses. The truth was, was that Aquilon had been tempered within a number of seasons and different lands; accustomed to foreign soil from soft to hard, and even to rolling hills and loose scree upon herd passes. It was no feat for Aquilon as they caught up to Aslinn and her own mount, and within moments were trailing up close to her side with a laugh ripping from Joscelin's own throat.

"There's nothing quite like flying across the land," it's what he says over the din of falling hooves; over the din of each passing and labored breath. All the while Joscelin keeps pace and his face tips to offer that sidelong glance to her. All the while that sun begins to falter and fall toward the mountains, and each long stride taken was another one closer to the walls of Camelot.

[Lady Aslinn Draconis]

There was little else that Aslinn could say to what Joscelin had to remark upon. She could feel the spur of emotions surging within her. Wanting to rebut to his disagreement of what she had to say in regards to the use of magic. To her power was destruction, even in the hands of those that meant well by it. She could honestly say that she had never seen the use of magic. So it was safe to say that she was wrong in regards to it being useful. She just knew that men were always hungry for more power then they had need for. Greed was a strange bedfellow; therefore making pawns out of those that had least. She guessed that she could see the need to gain power. So that they small country had the means to stand on it’s own. But these should not be the thoughts of a young woman. At the intrigues of court, learn what one can and use it however they saw fit. Her father was at work in Camelot, as it would seem.
Calen looked at the young man and furrowed his brow. “Trust is not the issue with the lady, it is her silver tongue that gets her into trouble.” He stated, “She speaks outright from the heart without thought of consequence to those around her. She is a willful girl, and I say girl for at times she is selfish and thoughtless. Need I say more? Trust me sir. You know not the trust nature of the beast they call women.” Calen was possibly trying to deter the man’s interest if any in Aslinn away. Make her seem less appealing then most women. Calen was certain that this young man had done his good deed by aiding them, in that he felt perhaps he was unworthy of Aslinn’s trust. So why not make her untrusting. Calen shook his head when Joscelin took off down the narrow stretch of road after Aslinn. In turn did the same, just to remain close at all times of his charge.
Aslinn turned her head slightly to the side as she heard another set of hooves strike the ground in thunderous applauds. She turned her head to the side, the edging of her hood curling back under her chin as she viewed Joscelin gaining on her. She was a good rider, more so side saddle, as that was how she had been raised. But growing up with several brothers she was only just learning to ride like a man. Everything on her body ached from the strain of working the animal so hard. It had taken quick a bit of her energy to just hold herself in the saddle, but she managed. And at this time with Joscelin bearing down upon her position she could not let up. She enjoyed small feats such as this. But that was all they were small feats., nothing to come of them.

Her attention had turned back to the road only to return to Joscelin as he came along side of her. Barely over the howling wind she heard somewhat of a laugh come from the man. She furrowed her brow and narrowed her gaze upon him. Wondering what had been so funny. When his words came, Aslinn could not help but allow her gaze to soften. She had to admit he had a point. There was nothing more freeing then to bolt horseback across the open plains. Of course this was not an open plain, and the snow made it a little more treacherous. But the thrill of it all seemed to grasp her all the more. She found herself smiling at his words before she return her gaze to the road ahead. Camelot was still a ways off. How long could they ride like this? The others in their party having fallen behind the pair that bolted down the snow-covered road toward Camelot.

She would keep her wits and her head about her. She had fallen off her horse back home and was bed ridden for a month. She did not wish to have a nasty spill today, and not with the presence of one such as Joscelin. She did not wish to owe him any more then she had at that moment. For his aid, and protection as it would seem, for now they were separate from their party. It wasn’t that she felt this way toward Joscelin; she felt this way toward most folk. To remain well guarded and intact was her goal. The question remained was it possible, when she was possibly entering the den of wolves.