The Reason [open]

[Hyacinthe mab Necthana]

Will you wait for me...?

Wait for you?

...laughter.

Not likely! I've always had to run ahead of you to show you the way.

Hyacinthe was amused when his mind filled with Cillian's thoughts. The wolf tended to think highly of himself more often than not. Yet, Cillian never treated Hyacinthe badly. In fact, Cillian had always been rather fond of him since the moment Hyacinthe had found him caged as a cub by a wayward trader. Hyacinthe had felt the desperate press of Cillian's mind upon his own; threading through Hyacinthe's mind and urging the male to free the cub.

At the time Hyacinthe had been strong enough to resist and repel the wolf. Yet, Hyacinthe had felt for the creature who had whined and scratched at himself to free himself of the burden of fleas. Cillian had been unkempt and far from taken care of. It had been more than enough for Hyacinthe to exercise his ability as a scout and member of the royal army, and Hyacinthe had confiscated the trader's wagon full of exotic commodities.

It had been years ago. In fact, Hyacinthe had been only twenty years of age then. Now, though, Hyacinthe was twenty-nine. Despite that, Hyacinthe could still recall the day clearly and how eager the cub had huddled toward Hyacinthe's heat when he had been freed. That, and he had eaten his portion of Hyacinthe's rations ravenously to the point where Hyacinthe had to snare a hare the next morn. Then there had been the thorough scrubbing and bath that followed.

It had been an experience between the two of them, and Cillian had eagerly opened his mind to the warmth that Hyacinthe offered the wolf. It was soothing to know that Hyacinthe could comfort the cub then and there, and truth be told, Hyacinthe had found himself attached to the beast.

Now here they were venturing forth toward Camelot.

You won't be allowed to venture about alone.

Humans. Fine then, I shall wait for you.

It was then that Hyacinthe had begun to round the bend and would come across Cillian who lingered there. The wolf looked rather impatient, but that didn't bother Hyacinthe whatsoever. In fact, Hyacinthe was rather amused. It was then that Cillian came to his fours and trotted forth until he was at Hyacinthe's side whilst astride that beast known simply as the Bastard.

They made a colorful group to say the very least.

Cillian, the wolf, was full bodied and his fur the shade of stone-grey. Yet, there was no doubt that the wolf had yet to peak. In fact, he was muscled and lean, and the constant venturing about he did alongside Hyacinthe kept him well and fit. Hyacinthe's mount, too, was well off albeit the beast's coat was rather different than the norm.

Hyacinthe's horse, the Bastard, was mostly white, but generously speckled with reddish spots, the color of old blood. That, and striped hooves that thumped and rang upon the trampled pathway that led to Camelot. He was long-legged and had powerful legs that rippled whilst carrying his master and laden panniers. His strong neck arched as they rode forth, particolored mane breaking like a wave over his spotted hide. Then there was Hyacinthe himself.

His ebon tresses were damp with sweat and swayed about his face within a myriad of braids. He looked nearly unkempt and dirty. In fact, there was dirt underneath his nails and he smelled of the road. That, and he was slick with sweat from a long ride that made the fine white cambric of his shirt stick to the line of his back. The collar, though, was undone to bare his throat and the hair on his chest, and his strong legs were adorned with trousers made of soft fawnskin that fit like a glove. His riding leathers as a whole, and his boots, were worn though beyond a doubt.

Yet, as the three approached the gate of Camelot, Hyacinthe was greeted with narrow eyes before realization set within the guard. It was then that Hyacinthe was greeted with a proper salute befit a man of a higher station; after all, Hyacinthe was a renown scout of Camelot. He was a man that owned respect from his peers.

""Hyacinthe!" Jonas breathed out from within the gatehouse doorway. He stepped out as Hyacinthe approached. Hyacinthe, though, leaned down from the saddle to clasp forearms with the guard. The both of them laughed. "Jonas!" Hyacinthe greeted the man warmly as the Bastard stomped his hooves and tossed his head. Jonas eyed the beast with a whistle.

"Still not up for sale, eh?" Jonas dared to ask.

"Of course not." Hyacinthe stated.

He ran his hand down the Bastard's strong neck.

"Well then," Jonas sighed. "It was worth a shot! Come on through then. Mayhap we could talk later over a bit of wine, eh?" Jonas asked of Hyacinthe who nodded. "Certainly, Jonas. There's a few things I need to do though." Hyacinthe admitted. "So, mayhap later tonight. Depending on the little one." Hyacinthe added. Jonas nodded. "I shouldn't keep you waiting then. Go on."

So, with a smile, Hyacinthe thumped his heels upon the Bastard's flanks and turned the beast's head toward Camelot's markets. There was one thing to do first and that was to find a gift for one little child by the name of Adara, Hyacinthe's daughter of five years. It wasn't long until he was roaming down the main thoroughfare and breaking off down a serpentine path that led toward the heart of the markets. Cillian, though, never lost pace as he kept to the Bastard's flank and moved easily amidst the press of human bodies.

The question was, was where to look first...?

[Cosette Moreau.]

Cosette was uncertain as to what she was doing here. Within the market of Camelot. It was certainly a fine place to waste the day away, and lose yourself within, though in the process it was more than easy to likewise lose any semblance of coin one may have once boasted within their pocket. And Cosette didn’t exactly have coin to spare.

A prostitute - and slave at best - Cosette was constantly putting coin towards her own freedom, and lingering within the marketplace was no way to ensure that coin kept within her pocket. Still, she needed time away from the heat of that brothel, and nigh everyone she was close with lived within that very bordello that she was seeking a short break from. The marketplace seemed most obvious.

Aside a small handful of things to buy, at any price you could imagine, there was a good number of people who did not hail from Camelot. Foreigners, that piqued Cosette’s interest, and more oft than not, its why she found herself lingering for prolonged spreads of time. You see, Cosette wasn’t your average lady of leisure. She was a clever girl who seemed eager to replace her own freedom with the knowledge of others’. The thoughts of what others, in other lands, may be doing with their time, rather than forcibly writhing beneath the rough and almost painful thump of some man they didn’t know.

Cosette gives a slight frown at the thought.

Truth be told, she was uncertain what she would do with her own freedom some day. Would she linger within Camelot or would she take to the roads and see lands she’d only read about? She supposed she would have to wait and see. Truth be told, it was something that Cosette was nervously anticipating. She’d never functioned without the Bordello’s Mistress at her back, and she imagines it would be a strange sort of thing to experience.

It would certainly take some getting use to.

Cosette’s soft mouth purses, and her delicate fingertips brush along the lip of one stall, only to skip towards another tabletop. Her head, however, was lolled away from the wares those vendors were sporting, and her gaze was settled upon the crowd of bystanders. Children running rings around their parents. Couples pawing at one another. Folk fighting within the public’s eye. Not to mention those lone folks, as Cosette herself was. And then there was a man upon horseback interrupting the spread of people upon foot.

That beast was, likewise, wandering close to the stalls, as Cosette was, and only growing closer with each step. Until, soon enough the small girl finds herself hovering nearby that horse.

A single hand lifts upward only to pat upon the curve of that white speckled horse’s wide neck. “Poor place for a horseback ride,” she teases, her head lolling to address the man upon horseback.

[Hyacinthe mab Necthana]

Hyacinthe was shocked that someone had spoken up suddenly to him, and although the tone and distinct sound of that voice was vastly familiar, Hyacinthe was nigh ready to argue...well, no, more apologize than anything. After all, Hyacinthe was home and he didn't wish for anything to delay him from seeing his daughter any time soon. It was why he hadn't stopped to have the Bastard checked at tended at the stables nearest the gatehouse. That and the panniers were filled with many things. Nonetheless, Hyacinthe looked down and then...

"Cosette Moreau!" Hyacinthe exclaimed, laughing and tossing his head. His hands clutched the pommel of his saddle as the Bastard huffed and tossed his own head, leaning into Cosette's touch eagerly, which was a rarity for the beast. It wasn't a rarity for Hyacinthe to laugh and smile around Cosette though; after all, the two had a history together albeit a history filled with pleasure, although that had lessened mounths before he had left on his duty. Now Hyacinthe had returned where he belonged.

"It's been a long time, love," Hyacinthe said by way of reflex, not because he loved the woman but because he uttered the word as a term of endearment. "Months, even...almost a year, eh?" He asked, looking thoughtful as he counted on one hand, but he stopped suddenly and shrugged his shoulders. It didn't matter. "Are you still in business?" He asked her, looking rather amused as his blue eyes gleamed. "Or have you grown too old? I see crow's feet at the corners of your eyes!" He exclaimed, gasping and breaking into laughter. He was only teasing her and Cosette would know that; after all, Hyacinthe had teased her often enough before.

"Come," he said suddenly, and with that, Hyacinthe dismounted swiftly and landed on his feet before suddenly embracing her. He was still laughing and smiling, and he even held her face between his hands. "Look at you!" He exclaimed enthusiastically. "You look practically the same..." He said, eying her critically and lolling his head to roam his gaze over the rest of her. She was still very attractive and as slender as she had been before to say the very least. As for Hyacinthe...well, he had earned a few scars and although still relatively fit, Hyacinthe was definitely far dirtier than he had looked when they had last talked.

"What are doing here anyway?" He asked, as if she couldn't roam the markets alone. He let her face go and tutted at the Bastard who had nearly sidled into passersby. He caught up the lead line of his stallion and drew the red speckled beast to his flank. He looked to her once more, smiling and looking expectant of an answer from his friend. It seemed that he couldn't help but talk though, but then who could truly blame a man who hadn't seen a woman, or anyone else for months...? Ah, well, it had been his duty and he had kept to his service as devoted as one could become.

[Cosette Moreau.]

Hyacinthe had been about the last man Cosette expected upon the back of that horse. She’d even go as far as to say she expected the king, or prince before Hyacinthe himself. As he had said it had been a long time, and while he may be naught but smiles, the truth was that the two of them hadn’t exactly parted on good terms. Though she doubted that he remembered that, after all, he had more to worry about than just some silly little prostitute. He had a daughter to care for, not to mention the fact that he was within the prince’s army. Which no doubt garnered at least some of his attention.

It’s why he’d left in the first place.

“I’m younger than you!” she breathes out in a huff, small hands lifting to touch upon her features, the pads of her fingertips blindly searching for those lines upon her face that he was no doubt making up. The only lines on her face, though, was the furrow between her brows - an evident look of displeasure. “It has been,” she finally comes to agree, her face relaxing at least somewhat, and her hands falling from her face to settle upon the gentle rise of her hips. Her head lolls to eye him within that moment before soon enough he was dismounting that speckled horse of his.

And his arms were around her. Truth was, that a flood of emotions were tumbling throughout her within that moment. She recalled easily enough how it’d felt with his hands upon her hips, and his face tucked warmly between the part of her thighs. She’d remembered how it’d felt being with him, and more specifically how she’d felt when he’d told her he was leaving.

She’d been angry with him. Though was she still?

Her own arms lift to slip about his neck easily enough, her head lolling and her face burying upon the curve of his neck. She breathed him deep. He smelled dirty. Her fingers thread briefly through his hair, curling knuckle deep, before she found his hands upon her own cheeks. His face searched hers, and she did likewise. A smile came to her own mouth as her head lolls to peer down and along his body, “You look a little worse-for-wear.” she observes with another smile spreading upon her warm mouth.

Her fingers fall from within his hair, only to brush along the lift of his dirtied and stubbled jaw.

“When did you get home?” she asks suddenly, “How is Adara?” she asks then, her chest filling with an almost relieved breath. Her smile only widens, “What am I doing here?” she repeats his question dumbly, those blue eyes widening, “Well, I…” what was she doing here? Well certainly nothing important. After all, as far as the Bordello’s mistress was concerned, if Cosette wasn’t on her back, it wasn’t anything important, nor anything she needed to know about.

“Nothing, truly,” she answers him with a knit to her brows. Her gaze settles upon him then and there, only for a hand to lift for fingertips to stroke fondly upon his horse’s flank, “What are you doing here?” she asked of him, simply adding to his seemingly endless and growing pile of questions. Her hands fall to his hips, keeping him close.

Truth be told, Cosette was hesitant to let him go within that moment.