Recent Posts

Richard de Calys was doing what he did best: looking for someone to take advantage of. If he had to make a list of his best talents that would be the first, well, maybe his immaculate taste in clothes would be first, but taking advantage of people would certainly be in the top three. It was something he took rather a lot of pride in although he probably shouldn't as he should be keeping a low profile. For someone who made a living in his line of work, remaining anonymous was probably an excellent idea. Unfortunately his pride wouldn't allow him to do so, and luckily he'd managed to make a reputation for himself that often worked for him rather than against him. People knew who Richard de Calys was and they knew what he could do. He was more than used to people approaching him in need of his services but at the moment he was purely working for himself. Things had settled down slightly, in Camelot anyway, which meant there were less people in need of his particular skills set.

As he walked through the woods he kept a sharp eye out. Over the few years that he'd been doing this he'd developed a way of keeping his eye on about five things at once. Should someone ask, he could tell them exactly how many people were within a fifteen metre radius of where he stood, which direction the wind was coming from, the chance of it raining and, most importantly, how much money he was likely to be making from the day's work. It was a shame really that there was no one he could tell all this information to and be impressed for him. He might be impoverished (or alright, nearly impoverished since he did actually quite have a bit of money), but he was still part of the Cantian royal family, and every so often it would be nice to be treated as such.

Oh well. He could impress himself - something he did on a daily basis - as he continued his walk. He heard a twig snap, a small smile formed on his lips. He'd been expecting that, someone had been walking rather close to him for quite a while now. Whether it was pure coincidence that they happened to be walking in the same direction, or whether he was being followed he didn't know. He walked a few paces to the nearest tree and leant against it, arms folded and waited to see who was coming.


Tagged: Caitylin
Timeline: During s2

Two years? Richard was impressed. Any man who managed to put up with Caitrin de Archer for two years deserved some sort of highly coveted award. Possibly an annulment...he laughed at the thought. Somehow he couldn’t see Caitrin being terribly impressed by that sort of thing, but then from what he could remember about her that wasn’t a lot that did impress her. Well, the sleeping man obviously did. Richard looked him over again. He supposed the man was fairly easy on the eyes. Richard would have imagined Caitrin with someone who was a bit more rough and ready though, or at the very least someone who was at least a wake when random men started talking to his wife in the middle of a forest the morning after a siege. But, it was none of his business, and apart from mild curiosity he really wasn’t that interested.

Oooh, he had touched a nerve. He grinned at her, a rather self-satisfied grin. He would have to make sure he remembered to keep referring to the child as “it”. He’d heard it never did well to upset a pregnant woman, but Caitrin was nothing he couldn’t handle. “And what will you do if I continue?” He goaded, eyebrows raised and rather enjoying himself. Somehow he’d forgotten how easy she was to annoy.

He let out a “heh” at her next words and diverted his attention to some imaginary dirt on his shoulder, flicking it off before looking back at her. He had absolutely no desire to do anything to endanger her modesty – not that she had any if their last meeting was anything to go by. She was probably the last person in the world whose modesty was in peril from him. “Yes well, let us not dwell on the past.” He replied, not wishing to get into that particular conversation, or discuss their previous time together. No, it was far better to just move on to the situation at hand.

That wagging finger of hers was rather amusing. Was she trying for intimidating? It was working whatever she was attempting to do. So much for pregnant women making formidable foes. He batted her finger away rather effortlessly before changing his expression to one of pure innocence. “The thought had never cross my mind.” For once it wasn’t actually a lie, mainly because the thought had never occurred to him. He just saw empty houses and took the opportunity rather than actively seeking specific ones. Then again, he could have easily taken something from her home; he had no idea which one it was. It was probably best if he kept that particular thought to himself though.

Well, already Griff was confused. It was, rather depressingly, an all too familiar feeling. Just once in his life he’d like to wake up in a forest with his wife and a mysterious man and just do something proactive instead of standing there being confused and trying to work out what Caitrin was going on about. Three years? What? Even he couldn’t sleep for that long. He didn’t bother asking what she meant; he’d only just become more confused knowing her. Instead he just stood there half glaring at the man. He looked...shifty.

Richard was rather enjoying Caitrin’s husband now he was awake. He clearly didn’t have any idea what was going on, and Richard was the type to find this rather amusing, so already he approved of the man. He flashed him a grin which earned him a glare with slightly more conviction. Yes, he definitely approved. “Yes, yes you would.” Richard replied, almost dismissively. He wasn’t really paying attention to Caitrin at the moment. But he did pay attention enough to hear her introduction, so gave a rather dramatic bow on hearing his name. “At your service, my lord.”

This Richard fellow wasn’t looking any less shifty, but at least he was starting to look less of a threat – not that Griff would be much use if he was of course. He was far too aware of that. He tried to smile at him but it didn’t really work. He turned to face Caitrin, but without taking his eyes away from the other man. “Why is he here...?”

If she thought he was being so ridiculous why didn’t she just leave him alone? It was obvious she was annoyed by him – hopefully more so than he was by her – so surely the obvious course of action would be for her to storm off somewhere and make comments to her friends? They’d all marvel at the fact that she’d been talking to someone like him in the first place – the suave, handsome foreign gentleman – but that she’d manage to sufficiently outwit him (because obviously that’s what she’d say) and then the little band of equally annoying teenagers would be in awe of her and Richard would finally be rid of her. Obviously he was fully aware that he was the best company she was likely to have all evening but that didn’t mean he had to like that fact. Such was the disadvantage of being said suave, handsome foreign gentleman. “If you say so.” He replied with the hope that this would be an end to the conversation and their time together.

Oh was she surprised? Richard had become rather desensitised to the expression, which was a shame really because shocking people used to be so much fun. And then it just became...ordinary, like right now. And that was just...depressing. Ho hum. Such a problem would not be solved at present. And besides, he wasn’t one to dwell on the negatives; otherwise that particular door would never be closed. So he pushed all that aside and focused on the present. Unfortunately the present was still an annoying teenager but he couldn’t have everything. He shrugged in response to her question. He’d never understood why Lord Rouland had gone to such lengths for Caitrin. Good riddance had been Richard’s thought on their departure, and he assumed it was the same for everyone – apparently not for her uncle. “Another of life’s mysteries. Presumably he enjoyed her company, no idea why. Or he had something to gain financially...he wasn’t forthcoming with his motives.” Rouland had never said and Richard had never asked – those were the rules, but obviously Aoife wouldn’t understand (or accept) such a basic concept. So he was in for a headache...

A woman’s voice caught him off guard – which was rather irritating as nothing should be catching him off guard, even more so when that person was a woman. He should have been paying attention, especially as he wasn’t actually supposed to be here. Luckily, thinking on his feet was something he was rather good at. His quick mind had gotten him out of trouble more than enough times, this would be no exception. He turned around to see the owner of the voice – a rather young girl, well; this was going to be easy.

He frowned. Mike? This was an unexpected reaction. Shouldn’t she be more worried about the fact that there was a strange man hanging around? Instead she wanted to know if he was Mike? Which meant she didn’t know who this man was, otherwise she’d know Richard definitely wasn’t him. Well, he was nothing if not an opportunist. There could be something to be gained out of this and if there wasn’t he was no stranger to a speedy getaway. His expression of confusion turned into a smile. “And you are...?” There was no point continuing this charade if she wasn’t worth his while.

Richard was becoming very, very close to smashing his head against the nearest wall. She was the most insufferable young girl he’d ever had the misfortune to meet, and for some insane reason, she appeared to think him the most fascinating thing in the world – or at least the most fun to annoy. What had he done to deserve this? Aside the stealing and the kidnappings of course – although that was only twice and both times had gone horribly wrong and hadn’t really been kidnappings anyway so life could hardly hold that against him. Usually, he was an honest man...honest to himself anyway. And really, anyone who was foolish enough to fall for one of his schemes clearly deserved it. Unlike him, he definitely did not deserve to have to spend a single second of his life in the girl’s company. “One of life’s mysteries, isn’t it?” There was no way he was telling her the real reason for his being here – for one thing she would probably alert the authorities and his pride wouldn’t let him tell her he didn’t actually have a choice if he wanted money.

If Aoife thought he was going to fall for that one, well, she clearly didn’t know him at all. If he set his mind to it, if he could be bothered, yes, he could give her a list. But he couldn’t be bothered and anyway, it was his turn to annoy her. So, no matter what she said or did she wasn’t going to get one. “If you say so,” he returned her shrug and resisted the urge to pat her on the head. She hadn’t like the nose tapping, so she’d probably appreciate head patting less but giving in to that particularly temptation would have been more than a little childish of him.

How did they meet? Well, it probably wasn’t the worse question she could have asked. He was expecting something about her reputation or some more comments about how she obviously hadn’t stolen his shirt. He wasn’t sure exactly how he should answer it though, how much information he should give her. The de Archers were a strange lot and he doubted her father would approve of such gossip but then there was the hope that if he just answered her questions she’d have enough of him and go away. “Her uncle paid me to find her,” he said simply, “She’d run away and I was supposed to take her back to Camelot.”

The lady in question seemed rather surprised to see him. That was nice, Richard liked to be surprising. And she had remembered him. Although their last encounter was hardly something remembered fondly, he would have been awfully put out if she'd forgotten him. But she hadn't, so all was well with the world. Well...all was well with his world. Apparantly, things were rather different in hers. He went up on his tip-toes, making the point to look past her at the young man who was asleep. Presumably, this was Lord Aubert...having said that, he liked to think he knew Caitrin well enough to know that might not necessarily be the case. She might style herself an Aubert now, but she was a de Archer through and through, and unfortunately, Richard had enough dealings with them to know exactly what that meant.

He stood normally again - although still on his rock, he'd become rather attached to the thing. "I do apologise. Shall I start again?" With a grin, he took another bow, "Ah my Lady Aubert. What a pleasant surprise." She turned her attention away from him in order to wake her husband, or, as it transpired, attempt to awake her husband. The man wasn't showing any signs of regaining consciousness. Richard could hardly blame him, it was probably the only way he managed to stay married to her. He jumped down from his rock and set his bag down on the floor before walking the few steps to the sleeping man and started nudging his leg with his foot. He didn't stir then either. Hmm. Oh well. Richard returned to the rock.

Was she already trying to wind him up? Obviously he was expecting some sort of comment about their last meeting, but it was the tone and the expression on her face that led him to believe she'd already started trying to annoy him. Well, it was nothing he couldn't ignore. And it certainly wouldn't be anything to match her niece. "If it had been any trouble, I wouldn't have bothered at all."


How much just Cait & Richard do you want? I can edit this post and put Griff waking up or have him do so after a few more posts. It's whatever you prefer.

Richard de Calys did not do sieges which is why he was currently high-tailing it out of Camelot. The only good thing about sieges was all those large, well-furnished houses going all abandoned. It would be such a waste to let them continue in such a state, and really, who was going to appreciate a silver goblet engraved with the initials G.B. more than him? No one, that was who, so that’s why it was currently in the leather bag over his shoulder, somewhere in between a jewel encrusted dagger and a velvet pouch full of gold coins. That had been a rather nice house and he was sure the others would have been equally nice, but his sense of self-preservation kicked in so he’d skedaddled and was now making his way through the forest. He’d go west; he hadn’t been that way for far too long.

Feeling rather pleased with himself, he started whistling, his walk turning into a slight skip which made his cloak swish behind him. He was far enough away from the city to not worry about anyone attacking him – hence why he was whistling so confidently. And if anyone did spot him, he was Richard de Calys. He could get himself out of any unwanted situation – or bribe them with G.B’s goblet. This was his third siege now; he was used to them, used to the sort of people that went searching for others in forests and other such places. Personally, he didn’t see the point in them. Alright, so Camelot might end up with a new ruler, but sooner or later someone else would come along who didn’t like them, and they’d rebel and there’d be another siege and another new ruler, and another person who didn’t like them. It was constant, it was inevitable and it was getting in the way of Richard’s business. People were always weary and paranoid after their homes had nearly been destroyed and a new, violent ruler had stolen the throne. They were less likely to trust a strange man turning up and asking for their help – and their money.

Ho hum. Camelot was just another city and there’d be plenty more where he was headed. The west, he had concluded a few years ago, was the land of the simpler folk, especially down by the coast. Too much dealing with the Welsh. But it did mean Richard was in with a better chance of improving his fortune, so he wasn’t complaining. With a plan in his mind, and plenty of bounty in his bag, he continued his jovial half-walk, half-skip until he saw a rather odd thing. He paused in his tracks, a confused expression on his face, an expression which quickly turned into a dejected sense of acceptance. This was just his damn luck. Well, he’d better make an entrance. Swinging the bag back over his shoulder, he found a rock a few paces away from him, near enough to jump onto – rather elegantly, he might add. He took a bow on his make-shift stage. “Ah my Lady de Archer. What a pleasant surprise.”

Sorry about the delay, completely forgot!

He was tired and cold and horribly wet, but discomfort had never deterred Richard de Calys before. If he could endure having his shirt stolen and a horrendous amounts of advances from Caitrin de Archer, he could endure anything. That was at least one positive thing that had come from that little venture - ignoring the money of course. Surprisingly, it was a little strange to be on his own again - which was actually a ridiculous thought. Richard was always on his own, it's what happened when he spent his time wandering about stealing from people. And he was happy with it. People were annoying. This was part of the reason why he found himself approaching the tavern stables. He needed to get out of Camelot, away from cities and people and find himself some nice, flat land with a big sky. He needed to go to Cantia, but seeing as that was out of the question he would settle on somewhere in the west. All he needed was a horse.

He approached the stables slowly, trying to see whether someone was inside or not. It would be rather suspicious walking in without a horse. He could always pretend that he was fetching his own - which was sort of true, but it would be so much easier if no one was there. Having said that, he really wanted to be away from Camelot as soon as possible. Well...that was just his luck. There was someone. He paused, lingering in the doorway and watching the person as they attended to one of the horses. For a moment, he considered just leaving but he didn't have any money to take a room. No, he needed a horse so he was just going to have to run with the circumstances. "That's a fine horse you have," he said, louder than he usually did to make sure the other person heard.

Richard had been unconcious, and therefore not in pain. It had been a rather enjoyable sensation, one that he could see himself enjoying for rather a long time, well, he would have seen it had he not been unconcious. Unfortunately, his body had other ideas and now he was awake and the pain was slowly returning again. It wasn't as bad as last night, so that was something to be thankful for, but it was a small condolence. Who knew being tortured could be such a pain? A small smile formed on his lips at the unexpected pun.

Maybe if he just stayed still and kept his eyes closed he'd return to sleep. He couldn't remember what he'd been dreaming about, but it was bound to be better than his current predicament. Especially as he was now being prodded. What the- oh. Her. Excellent. Could she not just let him sleep? He was only in pain because of her, a little sleep was the least he could expect. But she was Caitrin de Archer, so apparantly that meant she couldn't do that.

Was he alright? Well that was a stupid question if ever there was one. He was still half-asleep, in pain and cold thanks to someone stealing his shirt. She'd probably made it smell. It would have to be burnt. Thankfully it wasn't the favourite. "No." He replied bluntly, waving her hand away, eyes still closed. She'd leave without him, would she? That was an amusing thought. "And how do you reckon you would acheive that? You can't find Camelot. by yourself." He said before shifting into a more comfortable position, confident that he could relax for a few more moments, or attempt to anyway.