Apologies, Sir [Lancelot.]

[Cailean Aridia de Sable]

“Please, Cailean, if you’re going into town…”

She should have never agreed, children were such a pain in the backside, and even moreso when they’re not even your own! Not that Cailean would know anything of that. She’s still young, after all, though apparently old enough to be entrusted with a small gaggle of someone else’s!

Truth be told, Cailean quite enjoyed the company of children, more oft than not the two seemed to get alone, after all, Cailean was still young enough to appreciate and admire, not to mention understand, the wants of children. Not only that, but Cailean seemed to enjoy being trusted by something so… helpless. It was definitely a far cry from her day-to-day life, and usually a welcomed change of pace. All she had to do was keep an eye on the little brats.

Speaking of brats. Cailean’s head lolls, and snaps too and fro almost frantically, those pretty, cat like eyes of hers growing briefly wide. Perhaps this was why she didn’t have children. They were far too small and all too easy to lose. Though if she lost her own children, she wouldn’t get in trouble. Oh, sure, some would dub her irresponsible, and the like, though she wouldn’t expect to be beaten, as she would if she just so happened to misplace anyone else’. Cailean sighs out, a single palm lifting only to fall flat over her pretty features, briefly smothering and obscuring those cat like eyes of hers.

“Gods,” she mutters, drawing her palms away from her pretty features, nails scoring lightly across those pretty freckles of hers before drawing downwards and upon the curve of her throat. Her eyes settle toward the dirt floor below, searching the city square for those half-sized beasts that seemed to be causing naught but trouble at the time being.

“Tristan? Penelope?” the girl called dumbly, only to almost literally stumble upon the two brats only moments later. The two were crouched toward the side of one fruit stand, a small handful of pebbles cupped within their palms. Despite the small size of their hands there was definitely enough stones to cause a sufficient amount of trouble. Cailean’s brows furrow, as the children’s heads loll upwards to meet her gaze, though not before giving another few stones a good fling in the direction of a particularly noble looking young gent.

Cailean glances upwards and toward this young man before likewise crouching. The girl lifts a single hand only to bring her palm to swat almost roughly toward either of those devil children’s heads, “If you’re not going to behave, then you can go home,” the girl hisses, before hoisting either of them up by their elbows. “Come, you’ll apologize, this instant,” the girl demands of the two little hellions, wrenching them forth and toward that handsome young man, where she looks toward the kids almost expectantly.

“Excuse me, sir?” Miss de Sable interrupts the knight, “I believe these children owe you an apology.”

It’s then Tristan and Penelope exchange a glance, alongside a wrinkle to their nose before huffing out, “We’re sorry,” they grumble, albeit hesitantly. And with that, their eyes widen, in an almost puppy dog eyes before offering a slight pout.

[Lancelot Du Lac]

Sir Lancelot knew that he was not a lot older than he had been during his first visit to Camelot, but he felt that he had changed a lot, and not necessarily for the better. He had grown a bit harder, and perhaps a bit more cynical about things. He decided that he needed to get away from the rigors of the training field, and thought a visit to the Market, and the various vendor stalls there might be a good change of pace.

He had not known very many people well during his first visit, but the only one he had made contact with on this one was Prince Arthur, and that contact had been all business. In fact, given their current personal relationship, he had no idea why he had invited him into training. As he walked through the Market he nodded to some of the vendors, a few of which were familiar from his previous visit to Camelot.

Lancelot did notice, though, that there did seem to be a greater number of children running about .... at least more than he remembered from the earlier times. In fact, they seemed to be quite strangely underfoot. It had been some years since he had been around children in any degree, and as he thought of it, he suddenly found that he had missed those times. But this was quite a large number to take at one time, he thought. As he looked at the faces of the vendors in adjacent areas, he saw that their expressions were not particularly welcoming either.

Finally though, he did see, some several yards away, a young woman who was definitely not in the age group of any of the children that he had seen running about. However, she seemed to certainly have a frustrated and bewildered look on her face, and she seemed to be talking to herself. He was gradually starting to suspect that these little urchins that he had been tripping over were somehow connected to this pretty, but somewhat distressed female.

He considered, for a moment, whether he should approach her or not. Suddenly, though, by the expression on her face, it appeared that she found at least some of them, appeared. As a result,at least for the time being, she did not need his assistance, so he decided to stay where he was at, and continue to observe the high-energy little ones. Lancelot was used to meeting foes on the open battlefield, but was not used to being assaulted by children in the market-place. Therefore, he did not realize the fact that he was in a vulnerable position and an easy target until he saw a pair of hands pop up from behind a stall and he was hit with a face-full of pebbles. He was quick, but not quick enough to dodge those missiles.

Lancelot heard the almost immediate scolding that the two children received, quite rightfully so, he thought. However, no blood no foul, he considered as well. He also observed her pulling them towards him for the purposes of an owed apology. It would do them good, he thought, but only if they believed that they were in real trouble. Therefore, even though he did feel like laughing at them and what they had done, he still brought forward his most stern and serious face as they approached.

"Yes, I believe you're quite right, for starters," and he gave her a wink that the young lady could see, but the two children couldn't, as they were in the middle of a pout, and not paying attention.. "I am not sure that I should accept your apology, at least without some time spent in the stocks. Do you have any reason why I shouldn't have you put there," he asked with his arms folded, barely able to suppress a laugh.

[Cailean Aridia de Sable]

Cailean was glad this young man seemed eager to play along then and there. It’s not that she truly wished to punish the children, nor put them up within the stocks. Still, a little fun couldn’t hurt, or so she thinks. The children may be frightened, sure, and they may lose any hint of affection they felt toward her. Though that was truly something Cailean could deal with. It took quite the problem off her hands then and there.

It’s not as though Cailean wasn’t fond of the children, though someone certainly needed to teach them their places. Show them how to bhave properly when in public. After all, not everyone behaved as Cailean did, some didn’t care for children in the slightest, and would be far less patient with them. Hell, she even knew some people who would go as far as to strike children when offended.

Tristan and Penelope, on the other hand, didn’t seem so amused by this threat. No doubt because their under developed minds didn’t seem to grasp the fact that he was simply teasing. Their eyes widen in unison, and their jaws likewise drop, appealingly utterly horrified. Penelope near wept as she gripped the fabric draped about Cailean’s lower half, her face turning to trust suspiciously wet eyes, and nose alike upon the bundle of fabric at her hip. “I’m sorry!” the small girl weeps, “It was… all Tristan’s idea!” she sobs thereafter, seeming all too eager to throw her brother at the man’s mercy. Tristan on the other hand looks utterly horrified, alongside a quick shake to his shaggy head.

“Liar!” the child hisses out toward his younger sister.

“Gods,” Cailean mutters, lifting a palm to smother upon her features for a short moment, attempting to regain her composure before looking almost apologetic toward the young man. He’d gone through far too much on her behalf, between having rocks thrown in his face, to sitting through weeping children. In Cailean’s opinion things were getting a slight ridiculous.

Still, Miss de Sable stooped forth to hoist the weeping girl upwards, and onto the bare bend of her waist, “Apologize to him proper, and perhaps he’ll forgive you!” she encourages the child who seemed eager to simply grind a balled fist upon her pinched eye. Penelope gives a dramatic sort of sniffle before looking upwards, and to the knight, “I’m sorry,” the girl hiccups, though Tristan seems hesitant to follow suit, that was, until Cailean lifted her free hand to thump upon the side of his mussed head.

The boy replies with a brisk grunt, and a second mumbled apology that sounded nowhere as sincere as Penelope’s own.

Once more Cailean sighs out, and rolls those blue eyes of hers, “Perhaps you could find it in your heart to forgive them?” Either way, Cailean didn’t seem to care much. Penelope was fitfully frightened, though Tristan didn’t seem remorseful whatsoever.

“I’m sorry,” Cailean mouths the apology, her words going unheard, though she felt bad for wasting the young man’s time on a pair of brats like these two. “They’re not mine,” the girl whispers thereafter, covering Panelope’s ear with one hand, and mushing the girl’s other ear upon the bare rise of her shoulder. It was growing increasingly apparent that taking these children to the market was a poor choice.

[Lancelot Du Lac]

This was indeed a new experience for Lancelot, or better described as one that he had not experienced in many years. Over course, as a child he had had the opportunity to play with children his own age, first as a noble in France, and then as a growing young man on the northern border of Albion and the kingdom of Wessex. He lost contact with children his own age and younger when he began his apprenticeship with a carpenter in a nearby town, and then when his village had been completely wiped out by a foray of some northern raiders.

From that point on, most of Lance’s focus was not on carpentry, but on sword-craft, as he never wanted to feel vulnerable to the aggression or violence of others, as his entire family had been. It had never been explained to him, as a child, why his family had found it necessary to leave their noble existence in France, and move to an obscure location in rural Britain, but he had always assumed it had something to do with their religion, and being on the wrong side of a local conflict, as he had overheard his parents talking from time-to-time.

Now, Lance had felt the effects of women being drawn to him, through no outward attempts by him, but he had never felt children being drawn to him, or he being drawn to him. Often, they were simply objects, property, that as a knight, he was obliged to protect, especially since they were the most vulnerable and easily hurt. These small ones, though, seemed to be quite different. Tristan and Penelope …… he seemed to remember her calling them. It was easy to discern which was which, and each seemed to respond to his threat in a different manner. The girl seemed quite apologetic, though, at the end, as is normal human nature, she puts the blame squarely on Tristan, which he quickly objects to, aggressively questioning Penelope’s honesty.

Sir Lancelot quickly looks over at Cailean, to see what her reaction is, both to his threat and their differing responses. It was easy to see that she was not dealing well with the whole situation, as she muttered something unintelligible, before holding her face in her hands out of apparent frustration. The look that she gave him was one of both thanks to an apparent plea for help. It did succeed at touching his heart, and he felt the impulse to comfort her, but resisted.

Finally, she apparently gathered enough composure to force the girl …..Penelope ….. to give him a proper apology, which she did, without too much forcing. Lancelot grunted as his way of a partial acceptance of her apology. The boy …… Tristan …… though was not nearly as willing. Perhaps as the older brother he wanted to show how tough he was. However, a good rap upon the side of his head by the distressed young woman was enough for him to make his feeble attempt. “Perhaps the young master would like something more substantial than a simple afternoon in the stocks, eh?” Lancelot took out his long-sword and a knife from his belt, rubbing them against one another as if sharpening them.

“You never know, a cut here and a cut there, does wonders in making one more obedient,” he winked once more at Cailean. “Yes, perhaps, if this is a first offense, then, eh? I might overlook it as long as they do nothing in the future to spark my memory, we might chalk it up to a lesson learned, I suppose.” Lancelot saw her silent apology …. to which he merely shook his head. “If I may be of assistance in the future, just call and Sir Lancelot will come to your aid, most willingly,” he bowed his head slightly to her.

[Cailean Aridia de Sable]

Tristan had seemed all too confidant and cocky, up until the sight of the young knight’s blades came into view. The lad’s eyes widen, and he instinctively takes a step back and away from the threat, half pressing upon Cailean, as though he expected her to protect him after making such a mess of things! Well, to be fair, the both of the children had had hands in taking things this far.

Penelope, however, seemed a little too worried for her older brother, with those blue eyes of hers widening, and a look of sheet horror spreading across the breadth of her young face. Just as she seemed to be regaining composure the young girl begins to simply weep once more. Cailean remembered well when she was that young, and everything seemed like such a big to-do, and she’s fairly certain that if she would have been in her place… well, she would have wept, too. And while Cailean understands the child’s distress, she also wishes Penelope would simply calm down.

“I’m s-sorry,” the boy manages, sounding genuinely frightened within that moment. His eyes wide, and intent upon the blades, carefully watching their movement. “Please don’t hurt him,” Penelope sobs on the other hand, her tiny hand burrowing deep upon wide, blue eyes. Cailean, on the other hand, was growing quite weary of all these dramatics, between the weeping, and the young boy’s attitude, she’d come to wish that she’d never brought the little brats to the market in the first place, or at the very least she should have demanded some monetary compensation for providing such a service!

Perhaps then Cailean would be more willing to put up with their shit.

Soon enough Cailean finds herself stooping, only to set that little girl upon the floor once more, her fingers brush through the child’s hair in some attempts to further soothe and placate the girl. Her hands then settle upon Tristan’s shoulders, guiding him from before her, only to press upon Penelope’s side, “Take your sister home,” she demands of the child, her brows furrowing, “Straight home,” she demands thereafter. Both Penelope and Tristan look between Cailean and the man who’d dubbed himself Sir Lancelot, though not for long, before soon enough Tristan was tugging the girl off. It was more than obvious he wasn’t about to sit around and wait for another punishment to be offered up.

Cailean’s head lolls to be sure the two were off quite some ways. Odds are they wouldn’t be making unnecessary stops, and she hoped the two were old enough - or at least smart enough - to make it home. She trusted they would be. Tristan was nearly ten years by this point, and Penelope, well… she wouldn’t be the one to stray from their path. Though on a day like today, she doubted that either of them would even consider wandering.

“I’m sorry about them,” Cailean apologizes more formally, her arms folding before her thin chest, and her face tipping so she may address his own more directly, “Though I imagine you know well what it’s like to be a young boy,” the young girl teases thereafter, a smile growing upon that warm mouth of hers.

“I thank you for your assistance, though. I imagine it’ll be some time before he forgets this lesson,” she seems quick to assure him.

[Lancelot Du Lac]

So many, young men, even trainees to be Knights of Camelot, Lancelot had found, were simply play acting at being tough. It was often said that people had a flight-or-fight personality. That is, when faced with a do-or-die situation many would simply run when faced with a hard choice. When little Tristan was faced with the cold hard reality of steel in a knifle-blade or a long-sword, his attitude seemed to change quickly. Lancelot could easily see him trying to get some protection from the young girl who was watching the two children.

If Tristan's sister had been frightened by the young knight into obedience, she was absolutely petrified on her brother';s behalf now. Lancelot could see her eyes widen, taking in the sharp tools of battle he now displayed for Tristan's benefit. Tears that began only as a drop at a time now ran like a river don her face, as she undoubtedly feared that the knight before her was going to start carving on her big brother, and it was simply too much for her to handle and take in. Lancelot again wished that he could comfort her, but he thought that it was having the desired effect on Tristan that he had intended.

Finally, he sees the boy come forward, stammering an apology..... one that was apparently heartfelt. It appeared that his strategy had worked, at least temporarily. He saw that the boys eyes were pretty much transfixed on his two steel blades that he had been using as an example. He guessed that he had taken the threat seriously that Sir Lancelot had referred to. Anyway,it had taken a lot longer than he thought it would to scare these two children back into line, especially this Tristan. And it wasn't just a question of time, it was the energy that it required. he didn't know how she put up with them. In a strange way, he admired her.

Lancelot had been pre-occupied with Tristan's apology and had not notice the comfort that the young lady had been giving to Penelope. He saw that she had been relatively successful in getting her calmed down, and was now in the process of pulling the two of them together, just before, he assumed, sending them on their way, before they got themselves into any more trouble. he listened to her give the older brother, Tristan, instructions on getting the both of them, Tristan and Penelope, home safely. After all of the trouble they had landed in in a short time, it was thought that they would probably avoid any out-of-the-way trips. Lancelot was glad to see that they didn't waste any time being on their way.

He saw Cailean’s eyes follow the children, staring after they had disappeared from sight, probably just to make sure that they didn't come back to aggravate her some more, he thought. He again hoped that their experience would mean that they would head straight home, especially after the fear of God that he had put into them when he had showed off his various blades, he smiled to himself.

Lancelot shook his head negatively. "There is no need for you to apologize. Its all in a day's work for a knight. Besides ..... it was a bit different ..... and a little bit fun as well." He noticed for the first time, that due to his height advantage that she had to look up at him at quite an angle. "Yes, but my life did not have near the freedom to do as they will as those two, methinks," he replied with a rueful smile himself.

"Again, it was my pleasure to help a damsel in distress, mademoiselle,"[/color][/i][/b] and he leaned down, quite low, to give her wrist a kiss, in the French manner. "Yes, I think I made an impression. If there is any other way that I can be of assistance ..... any ..... ma cherie .... be sure to call on me."

[Cailean Aridia de Sable]

Cailean was glad to have seen the two taking off, and seeming all too eager to head onwards, and back to their own home. It was one less thing she had to worry about throughout the day, and truth be told, it was a lot of pressure off her own shoulders, after all, heaven knew what would become of her if she’d gotten the children kidnapped. Although she’s none too sure why anyone would want to spirit those children away.

The two were simply ragamuffins, and nothing but trouble.

Cailean was likewise thankful that this Lancelot hadn’t been sincere in his threats, and seemed to be easy going in the ways of teaching the two some lessons that they wouldn’t be forgetting any time soon. Miss de Sable wonders whether or not Penelope had actually stopped crying by this point. It was hard not to feel a little bad for the young girl.

Tristan, on the other hand, he’d earned that scolding, perhaps tenfold.

Though those children were no longer her concern, at least not today. She knew well that she’d be tasked with watching the little beasts some other day. Though, now, her focus was settled upon the remarkably tall man situated before her. Lancelot. And despite looking notably young he’d dubbed himself as a knight, and Miss Cailean is inclined to believe him. Either that or he was simply some sort of nut job carrying about a set of blades.

Though to be fair he didn’t seem all that insane.

“They’re good kids,” she assures the young man then, only to wrinkle her nose, “Just a little misguided, I guess!” Cailean allows for a short bout of laughter then. Tristan and Penelope’s parents had little time for the two children, after all, between the two, they were barely scraping by, and Cailean is certain that being trusted with the little beasts wasn’t helping their current situation, either. While they were much like younger siblings to her, and while Cailean liked children, the girl simply wasn’t prepared to be parenting her own.

“I’m Cailean,” she offers then, as her hand was taken up and his mouth brushed upon her wrist. She felt a slight heat rising upon the lift of her cheeks. Once more she finds herself laughing, though this time it was almost awkward, in her attempts to cover up her fleeting shyness. “I could hardly be considered a damsel in distress,” she reasons thereafter with a quick wrinkle to her nose.

Cailean was a self sufficient, strong woman! Or at least she fancied herself such.

“Shouldn’t knights have better things to do than scolding a couple children?” she asks of him suddenly, her voice holding a teasing sort of tone.