In The Name... (Val/ open)

[Charlotte Anne Lynch]

Another Monday...

Charlotte's heart ached to be in the dark confines of the cathedral. Hidden away from her fears and her worries. It was only in the deep meditation of prayer that her spirit felt relief.

So many things she was forced to deal with and so many drove her to distraction, pulling her thoughts from God and His divine purpose.

Passing through the halls of the castle, she paused by the stairs leading up to her sisters quarters and glanced up. Shaking her head, Charlotte returned her look forward and continued on and out. Kira would likely only agree to attend Mass to try and escape the house arrest she was under and Charlotte, though she did not know why Kira was imprisoned, was unwilling to incur her brothers wrath... or that of his "advisors".

Stepping out into the courtyard she moved swiftly through, hardly taking notice of anything her desire to be in church driving her. As she moved along the streets, Charlotte found herself breaking into a near run every few steps, only to stop and take a breath as her hands smoothed down her skirts.

The cathedral is hardly going to disappear Charlotte Anne... and God hardly with it if it does...

Arriving finally, she quietly pushed open the door and moved into the cool shadows of the sanctuary. It was nearly empty. A paltry few other petitioners knelt in prayer. With a sigh of quiet relief, the princess knelt in a pew a few rows in and removed the rosary from around her neck. Bowing her head she began the Lord's Prayer, preparing to pour her heart out to the only one who could heal it

Our Father, who art in heaven...

[Val Dindine]

Cilia certainly wasn't the only one that was tired by the time they had entered Dublin, and Val, after all, was the one that had been the one to lead her through that forest because the horse was afraid of the roots. And then across the stream because she was afraid of the fish. And then up some rocks because she was afraid of snakes. Or whatever it was, he didn't really care in particular about the fears and phobias of his steed, just that he felt he should have just saved time and given the horse a ride from the pathetic excuse for a cave from the previous night. Bats, spiders, and he was sure he'd seen a dragon pass out the remainders of its meal near the entrance. No, though. Now he was in charge. Val Armandus Dindine, Lord of all Horses! Well, this one at least. Cursing under his breath as the equine stumbled over some poor paving stone, he turned his attention towards the road ahead as the city of Dublin opened its arms out to greet him. The smiles on little faces, the bright colours of the fair maiden's cheeks, the golden glint of sun on the helmets of the angry-looking soldier marching towards him.

"Hey you!"

Val pointed at himself, rather bewildered, as though the pointed finger of the butch, bearded and moustached Dubliner could have ambiguously been directed at the other person on the horse. Swinging his leg over Cilia, the redheaded Englishman dropped down to the right of his horse, taking the reins and approaching the guard carefully.
"Is there a problem?" His face was clearly one that was not happy at the situation, and he was more concerned that he was going to be mistaken for a bandit again. That was certainly not a fun two weeks of running around and living rough, but he reckoned he'd passed that stage of his life and was currently on the road to a life devoid of witch hunting. The guard stopped ahead and looked at him suspiciously.
"Where are you from, civilian?" Val's mind raced. It was right answer time. Either get this response correct or there'd be trouble.

"I'm... Yeah... England?" He guessed the response, hoping the slight hint of Irish in his voice would turn the guard's favour towards him, yet it didn't seem to be having any sort of affect. "But I was involved in fighting off some bandits and suchlike on Ireland's west coast a few months ago." There was no response from the soldier who proceeded to wander off away with a dismissing flail of his hand, and the Englishman began making his way through Dublin's crowded streets, passing man and woman and child and random little dog things with accessories attached to them. A fishmonger's stall caught his eye, and he wandered across to see the array of long, mean-looking fish with sharp teeth, and he quickly made an excuse to travel across to a separate stall, where dragon eggs were supposedly being traded. Key word: supposedly.

Passing towards what was apparently a blacksmith, he looked down at Cilia's hooves, knowing that they were due a servicing. One of them was nearly work all the way out, and the others were soon to follow. Before he got there, however, he discovered a sight that drew him towards the left slightly, as a fair maiden passed by his vision, and he wandered after the raven-haired beauty for a second, reveling in the delicious aromas left in her wake. A second beauty of red hair, like his own, passed instead, and his attention suddenly switched. She was travelling in the opposite direction, and he smoothly turned his horse to watch as she passed. The Cathedral appeared to be her place of destination, he gathered, as she clearly held the Rosary Beads of her faith, and it wasn't far from where he was now that he looked at it. Furthermore, he couldn't think of any reason such a treasure would be wandering the streets other than to go to praise God in His house.

Strapping the lazy beast and his damaged equipment to the wooden beam at the side of the church, he patted the mare gently before making his way around to the front. Catholic Cathedrals were never his favourite, but it had been so long since he'd actually spoken to God except to ask him why he always dismounted into one dropping or another. Besides, it was the same deity... sort of, and what better way to love one another, and women, than under God's own roof? Smoothing out his hair as he approached around to the front doors, he strode in quietly and took a seat towards the back, making a conscious effort to seek the woman he had entered because of.

[Charlotte Anne Lynch]

The gentle creaking of the cathedral doors did not disturb Charlotte in the slightest. Nor did the light as it fell on her face briefly, so intently in her petitions was she.

Oh dear heavenly Father
Grant your heavenly forgiveness to my parents
Lead them into your presence
Forgive their sins
Grant your grace to my grandparents...

A single tear streaked down Charlotte's face as continued her prayer in silence

Father...
I do not know what to do about Christopher and Kira
They will not tell me what the conflict between them is
And I struggle Father...
I struggle to continue to keep my patience with them both
They are both so proud and unmo-

A sharp clattering as someone stumbled against the wall and bumped into a candelabra, knocking it onto the floor. One of the candles rolled along the darkened aisle, it's flame flickering as it endeavored to stay lit, coming to rest just beyond the edge of Charlotte's skirts. It remained unheeded as she quickly rose to her feet and stepped towards the poor brother who was quickly straightening his mess. Her skirts resting momentarily against the flame, then ghosting past and extinguishing it's small existence. Its only progeny were the smoldering threads of Charlotte's hem, ready to light themselves as she knelt to gather the other candles spread about the floor.

[Val Dindine]

Pulling him into one of the pews once more after ejecting himself to allow space for the elderly man at his side to escape the confines of the cathedral, Val used the time whilst standing and smiling (though unengaged in the conversation the old man seemed to be having as he worked his way towards the door) before sitting back down. He hadn't seen hide nor hair of the woman he'd followed in, though to be honest he was looking for the hair mainly. Clasping his hands together he dropped his posture, but not his eyes, continuing to scan around in his search for the lady.
Oh Lord upon high,
I ask that You aid me in finding the fair maiden whom resides here,
She who dwells in my heart as the angels doth in Your kingdom.
I ask in Your Name that if You find her to be...[/color]

His thought process was prematurely ended, the lines between the mortal and the deity severed, as a blundering fool brushed past him roughly, knocking his figure. The eyes drew narrow as the man passed, and he growled warningly. Typical.
Bleeding Catholics...
Oh... apologies Lord, surely You, in all Your wisdom and omniscience, know I love others as You do. When I wage war upon fellow man it is in Your name, usually.
And as I was saying, should You find the maiden to be present,
And You believe her to be of good standing for this humble believer,
Would you make her known to me, so I may observe her once more?[/color]
There was a tumbling and the ominous rattling of stone against metal which reverberated around the room. Thrusting his head out, he glanced down the central passageway to where the Brother lay across the floor. A smile and curt nod followed, directed towards the ceiling.

Continuing to watch, however, he was hardly expecting the figure to appear from the pews nearby. Leaping out from the pews at his end, the rattling sound could hardly contain his he made his way quickly towards the woman with the whispered sounds of "Thank you, thank you, amen and thank you, I promise to finish the Bible, I'll never swear again as long as I live." drawing the attention of multiple curious onlookers as he drew closer to the beautiful woman laying to assist the balding zealot. So pale, redheaded, soft and young, it was like she was a true angel placed on Earth to be admired by all. Pretty dresses and invisible wings, and the alluring presence of smoke drifting around her form finished off the perfect...

Smoke?

His eyes shot down to the hem of her dress, significantly brighter than the rest of her body, and his pace quickened.
"Bugger!" The pupils wandered up to the ceiling again as he marched closer, muttering another 'Bugger' at the failure of his profanity vow. With a swift kick, he sent the candle careering through the air over the heads of several attendees taking in the scene, with a booting that would have usually made him quite proud. The hands, however, brought themselves around the delicate fabric of the dress to try and smother the flame trying to creep its way up her dress. No flame would burn his angel today... not when Val Dindine had something to say about it! Not when... when it jumped to his hand instead.
"Bugger."

[Charlotte Anne Lynch]

The last of the candles was set into it's place on the candelabra and Charlotte smiled at the priest.

"There Brother Matthew..."

She frowned slightly. No... that wasn't the last of the candles by the slightest stretch of the imagination. One was missing. Her eyes scanned the dimly lit hallway as the priest began to drone on an inexplicably long thanks.

Now where on earth could that one little candle have gone.

Shifting just slightly, she turned to see a man moving towards them. She was less interested in him and far more interested in his foot connecting with the last candle she needed for the candelabra. Shooting him a look of irritation, she moved to stand. The candle had flown all the way across the cathedral and now she'd have to hunt in the dark corners by the altar for it.

Taking a step towards it, she stopped as something tugged on her skirts.

"Bugger!"

Turning back towards the man who had so rudely kicked the candle, Charlotte stared at him wide eyed as he batted at his hand and pulled at and ruffled her skirts.

"What ARE you doing!?"

Her hands reached out and grasped her skirts, attempting to tug them from his hands, completely unaware of the still smoldering threads beginning to catch fire.

"Let go of me!"

[Val Dindine]

"Hot, hot, hot, really really hot, hot!" The words grunted out of his mouth as he shook his hand violently, the flames creating amusing little smoke patterns that would have been nice to look at if he weren't in danger of losing his hands to the fierce flames that seemed to creep further up and around his arm in its effort to consume him. He glanced around, still waving the limb, looking for his salvation, which came in the form of the Holy Water clearly displayed at the front of the cathedral. In some sort of half running, half hopping motion as he fought to not scream or fall over, he yelped in the direction of the beacon of hope for him. Reaching the metal bowl of purest fluids, he delved his blazing glove and forearm into the depths of the water. The once-clear and untainted liquid took on the dark, murky qualities of charred fabric, dirt, filth and whatever else he had been handling over the last few days, and the flames of Hell were extinguished from his hand in a shower of steam, and a satisfying exhale on his behalf.

Turning how, he realised that yes, he had made a horrible first impression, and that girl would likely never want to speak to him properly now. Unless maybe he faked something to get on her good side again. Perhaps she was the kind who appreciated a witch-hunter. Maybe a witch was in the crowd, knew who he was, and tried to curse him with the flames of the deepest circle of Hell. Or, well, the second deepest maybe. If he remembered the stories right, the deepest layer was...
"Fire."
No, no, the deepest one was the one with Lucifer and the frozen wastes as he tried to escape the...
"Fire!"
No! No, it was the ice there that held him in place, which was in turn caused by the flapping of his wings as he tried to escape. Turning around, he returned his vision to the girl, deciding that being a witch-hunter would be a very lucrative approach to getting on her good side. Maybe he could even entertain her with the story of Lucifer being trapped in...
"Fire!"

Cursing himself, he began making his way back to her, and then cused himself a second time as he his hand still in the bowl caused the entire contraption to clatter to the ground. Pausing for a second he found himself caught between trying to pick up the collapsing array of, well, stuff, and the flames licking their way up the dress of the woman.
Come on, think, think! What would Jesus do in this situation? ... Right, walking on water isn't an option. Making a dash towards the woman, half gesturing at the ruins of the Holy Water holder-thing to stay still until he returned, he pushed through the crowd to try and sort out the problem he... no, the Brother had caused. He smiled intelligently. Yes, all this could be blamed on someone other than himself. He liked that angle. He managed to force his way in, despite the multiple complaints about manners, etiquette and other imaginary animals, and within grabbing range of her dress, the first thing he did was smack a waving fan away.

"Stupid man, fanning it makes it worse." Ignoring the bearded man's complaints that this was hardly a way to treat a lady, Val's hand immediately reached for the top of the fire with the damp glove that was getting quite familiar with infernos lately. squeezing the top of the flames' influence, he slowly worked the fisted hand down her dress, smothering and drowning the life out of the hazard. His teeth gritted as his hand bore the brunt of this, and the crowd's useless knocking against him to try and reorganise into seeing what he was doing hardly helped. In fact, it made him wish he had spikier armour so he could walk out of the building with it all nice and newly decorated. Finishing running the hand down one side of what had become a V-shape with fire burning either side, he quickly swung the hand up to the other side at the top. The brief period of air rushing against his palm almost made him shout out, and he nearly knocked a few of his teeth out as he forced his hand into his mouth to stop himself. How much water was left on the glove he had no idea, but he had the feeling there would be little water, little glove, and little hand left as he finished off the remained of the fire with a bestial sigh.

[Charlotte Anne Lynch]

It was only after Charlotte tried to tug her skirts away that she noticed the odd man's arm was on fire. It caused her to look in alarm at the section of skirt he'd been tugging on.

Oh Holy Father in Heaven...

For a moment she froze, then, as the strange amusing man ran away, Charlotte began to pull sharply at her skirts. Finally, after tearing fiercely, she felt and heard them rip away from her bodice.

Please Lord... leave me some dignity...

If she did it properly, Charlotte would still be left with some fabric beneath her skirt. Enough to fairly well preserve her modesty.

If it doesn't I don't want to know what Christopher's advisors will do with this...

She never noticed the odd man's return, so busy was she at ripping the seams of her skirts around on her other side, but as he worked his glove down, the tugs pulled the last few seams of her skirt and it fell down around her feet allowing her to slip free and step away from the smoldering and on fire ring of fabric.

"Could someone please get me a cloak or a blanket?"

Her gentle voice could barely be heard over the clamoring of the observers and Charlotte stood in embarrassment trying to preserve her modesty as she stood in her chemise and bodice looking desperately for some form of cover.

"Anyone?"

[Val Dindine]

The mixture of fire and water and cloth all against his charred hand was hardly unnoticed by Val as he continued to pursue his efforts in destroying the remaining fire that lingered on the dress that threatened the woman's life - or at least her legs. And he'd be damned if he was going to let such slender, smooth legs to scathed by such wild flames, especially as through an unwitting act of fortune, or misfortune on her behalf, the cloth came loose in his hands and he gawped for a moment or two before suddenly realising that this was probably not the correct eye-level or situation for him to be in at the moment. Her shouts for blankets and clothing went mostly unheard as the crowd around became confused and frantic. That he had thrown the simmering remains of her dress towards them had hardly helped as now the object was thrown around like a hot potato, with no one willing to keep hold of the supposedly devil-forged object. Already a priest was on his way with a smile on his face - likely ready to make a profit by offering a blessing and exorcism for just a few gold pieces.

Val, however, saw very little of this. His hands were clenched fully around the woman, as instinct and a knowledge of how things worked took over, and much of his shoulder was pressed against what had once been an area concealed by skirts. The remaining white dangling piece of fabric was translucent at best, and his body was opaque. He didn't know what the words would mean in a conversation, but right then he knew that his shoulder was a lot less erotic than what the eyes of an onlooker might glance at otherwise. Biting down on his lip, his unscathed hand touched across the other and the feeling was less than pleasurable. Far from it, in fact, and if he weren't afraid of replacing the fire's damage with his own marks, he would have bitten the woman's side in most situations. He wouldn't have wanted to, of course, but there were some situations where biting a woman was appropriate. This was not one of them, but oh Lord he wished it was. His attention was suddenly alerted again to the noise of the crowd and he withdrew that desire.

There was still no blanket, nor any other concealing item of clothing, though he knew he had something of the like over on Cilia. But she was out there, and he was in here. That meant that he'd need some sort of cunning plan to get her from here to out there, and he knew just how to do it. Lifting her up onto his shoulder a little, he remained in a crouching position, offering her a slight wink that was meant reassuringly, but was most likely interpreted as less of a 'Trust Me' and more of a 'I reckon I could make a profit off you'. Shouting up loudly, he pointed a finger randomly towards a wall near the altar and shouted in a distinctly amazed voice to draw the crowd's attention away.
"Look! A distraction!" It worked, sort of, as he burst to his feet and pushed past the remaining onlookers, the open doors of God's house wide before him, and he escaped the place with a few suspicious looks behind him, darting past the guards patrolling the streets and making his way around the side of the religious house. Cilia was there, proud and majestic, smacking her tail in the face of another horse and chomping away on some spare hay.

Grabbing the small roll of fabric from the side of the equine, he unfurled it with a large fling of his arm and brought it smoothly around the woman - now standing - before him, tightening it securely around her. Breathing a sigh of relief, he allowed himself to drop to the ground, exhausted to the point that the squelching sound he heard as he landed wasn't even an irritation to him at the moment. A glance at his hand through tired eyes and gritted teeth offered him the view of an unsightly black glove and damaged skin, and it was only when he flicked his eyes across to the figure in his spare cloak that he felt it was worth it. The stinging pain maybe wasn't, but that'd fade in time. Pain was weakness leaving the body - and in his time he had experienced a lot of constipated pains leaving his body. He half-casually placed his hand into a little more of a concealed state and offered a casual wave with the other to appear carefree. "So, mi'lady, do you catch fire often or was today my lucky day?"

[Charlotte Anne Lynch]

No one was helping her...

She was the Princess and no one was helping her...

Something nudged into her legs... a very improper place for anything to be nudging into and she glanced down in horrified shock.

"What are you doing?!"

The man, now on her list of people not liked very much had pressed his shoulder further into her legs and Charlotte stared down at him catching his wink and raising her head to frantically grab someone, Anyone's attention as he shouted about a distraction. Her own head followed the pointing of his finger and so startled as her body was lifted over his shoulder and carried off she let out a small shriek.

"Oh no..."

Her hands flipped around behind her to hide any obscene images from the crowd she was sure was staring at them and she felt her face light up a red meant to match her hair.

Before she had time to truly think about what she would do when her captor put her down and ceased molesting her person, she found herself dropped to her feet, a blanket wrapped and tightened about her waist and the man flopped on the ground before her... a squelching sound coming from beneath him. It happened so quickly that Charlotte swayed a moment on her feet trying to regain her balance.

Glancing about, she sighed in relief as no obvious threats to her status were present. Though she had a sinking feeling about the entire adventure, she was certain that God would provide. He always did. However...

Her gaze turned to her rescuer slash captor as he spoke to her at long last and she was hard pressed to keep a smile from her lips.

"Tell me stranger... is it often you tear the skirts off Princesses and fling them over your shoulder bearing them to safety?"

He was favoring one of his hands she noticed. Giving it a hard glance, she took in the charred leather glove and peak of raw red skin. Her smile faded and Charlotte took a step towards him holding out her hand.

"Let me see your hand..."

Kneeling in the street beside him, she grasped his hand not waiting for his permission and gently examined it.

"When you save a lady you certainly do so at risk to yourself. You must come back with me to the castle and see that your hand is tended to. I will suffer no argument."

She moved to stand again and felt the blanket slip from around her waist. Making a desperate grab for it as it slipped, she just managed to hold on to it as it unraveled from around her leaving her back end exposed once again. Charlotte quickly wrapped the blanket tightly as her face turned again an embarrassing shade of red and she dropped her head, trying to avoid any glances from either the man in front of her or onlookers passing by.

"Please... can we please hurry?"

She tried to hide the desperate note in her voice, but Charlotte had never suffered so much humiliation. The sweet, innocent Princess was at her wits end and desperate to return to the castle and don a new dress. Unable to wait a moment longer, the woman turned on her heel and quickly began moving back towards the castle. If her... rescuer she supposed he was... wanted help with his hand then he would follow.

[Val Dindine]

Princess? She surely had the looks, but hardly the likelihood, and he laughed a little as she said such a thing. There was no chance he had just done all that in front of an Irish royal member... or even to an Irish royal member. He could just hear the ringing of chains and the pounding of guard feet traveling down the streets, and the loud voice of the executing party reading out his crimes as he was dragged behind. Defilement of a holy house, spreading of demonic objects, assault on the royal ladies. This was all he would need - another witch hunt, and he didn't even have a jar of honey to last him two weeks this time. This was, of course, nonsense, as there was no chance this girl would be a princess, and he laughed a little at her, but cut the laughing short when her fingers painfully touched his hand. Saving a lady was often worth it, and he forced a contorted grin despite the agony in response to her, bearing a crooked arc of tensed muscle at her. She mentioned a castle, and he half wondered whether he had picked up one of the looneys of the city. Just his luck, obviously.

So the princess, probably of a small household, wanted him to go back to her madhouse and spend some time with him so she could 'tend to his wounds'? He didn't know whether she was being genuine or deceptive at the moment, though her looks indicated that there'd be no daggers in the back that night. Still, he could hardly tell whether she wanted to get him to the castle for his own benefits, or for hers, and all the while her hands fiddled with his. The rising of the girl from her lower position to her feet was met with great argument from the blanket, and Val almost experienced his second viewing of an already rare spectacle. He averted his eyes a little, taking keen interest in the motions of the chewing horse next to him, but even keener interest in his peripheral vision as he watched the fumbling of hands and blanket reworking the beaten cloak back around a lithe form. Drawing his vision slowly back around the front, he couldn't help but feel a little sorry for the girl.

He himself had his own troubles standing up - being stuck to the ground not being the least - though finally forced himself into a standing position, feeling as though his legs were less than content with their new role of being forces to remain supportive of the man despite his previous actions which had caused so much strain to them. Then again, he reminded the twin limbs, they had not been the ones on fire, and hence they had no reason to be complaining at the moment, and with a slight kick he knocked them together, hoping to knock some sense into them. Grasping the reins that attached Cilia to the nearby post he carefully undid the knot with one hand, taking plenty of time to do so as the woman remained nearby and huddled in the salvation she clung so tightly to. The mare shook a little, clearly not appreciating what had been only a small respite for her before Val began leading her sullenly and unimpressed towards the centre of the cathedral's courtyard. He nodded at the saddle, offering the seat to the lady.

"Wouldn't do for you to be out walking, miss... even if it is only a small walk to your house or what have ye." He hardly believed she lived at the castle, couldn't believe she was a princess, and so kept civil but refused to partake in her little 'game' of pretending to be royalty. She could be serious, or she could be trying to get him in trouble, or he could end up in trouble anyway, and he didn't want to even attempt to talk his way out of what could easily be seen as some sort of attempted coup. That was the last... well, one of the last things he wanted. Obviously the last thing he wanted was to have something happen like getting randomly impaled by a falling curtain pole - he'd want at least a memorable death... or no death at all. Kneeling a little he offered one good arm to assist the lady up onto the horse, and prepared to lead her through the streets like some sort of servant. Hardly, but it was gentlemanly and by his big ginger beard, if he wasn't going to have 2 arms or a clean ass he was certainly going to display manners.

[Charlotte Anne Lynch]

His words brushed across the courtyard to her and Charlotte paused in her rushed steps, turning back to face him.

The thought of hiding her lack of clothing while huddled on a horse was appealing. But then again, she was a princess and that required proper posture. Charlotte bit her lower lip and turned away from the stranger.

Decisions, decisions... Which would give Christopher's advisors a better grip on his decisions? Which would weaken her own position with her brother?

Before she knew it, the stranger was right beside her and offering her an arm up. She glanced worriedly at him before sighing in resignation and nodding, moving over to accept his help onto his rather irritated looking mare.

The horse let out a huff of air and Charlotte smiled slightly, leaning forward and patting her on the neck.

"Thank you for letting me ride kind lady. I'm sure you'd enjoy a stay in the royal stables... I'll see to it that you are treated very well so long as you don't throw me."

The horse's ears twitched as she spoke. Charlotte didn't know if the horse understood, doubted it in fact, but she felt better at least putting the offer out there. Horses rather frightened her. Turning her attention partially to the man still standing on the ground, she spoke again.

"The castle... it's... it's that way..."

Her hand shot out and pointed towards the towers to the east before clamping back down on the saddle. Charlotte had glanced down as she spoke and seen how far the ground was.

"Get me there and I'll see to it that you too are well cared for. Especially your hand."

Charlotte closed her eyes and took a breath as she waited for them to move forward. All she had wanted was a nice hour of prayer. A nice, soothing time alone with her heavenly Father expressing her heartache over Kira and Christopher. To feel closer to her father for just a few precious seconds... to not feel so lonely.

A tear slipped down her cheek and she wiped it quickly away, raising her chin and steeling her nerves once again. So she hadn't gotten her peace and quiet with God. So what! She was stronger, smarter, harder than she was acting. Her face settled into a grim, determined look and she stifled the sigh begging to slip free. No more weakness.

"So tell me your name oh my savior...."

At least she could be polite and try to converse with this man as he took her home.

[Val Dindine]

That she was on the horse was a rather positive thing for him, and he gladly took the reins in his good hand and began to lead the unhappy Cilia who clearly would have been preferring to ride the other woman to the castle, rather than becoming the tool of transportation once again. He sighed, tugging a little harder, adamant that this time his equine would not get the easy road of just following after the person that was supposed to be riding. This time his horse would be doing as she was told, or his name wasn't Val Dindine! And appropriately, this set him up for the next, and probably first, question that the woman asked from atop the horse whilst gesturing in the direction of the castle. Exhaling a little, he wondered what her game was as he turned in the direction of the ominous towers and began walking slowly towards it. With a slight clatter of hooves, Cilia came onto the pavement, and together the three of them began their journey, much to the curious gazes of a few members of the church and crowd that went mostly unnoticed by the Englishman.

Now, to answer her question. And what better way to answer than to inform her of all the deeds he had accomplished in his lifetime? It was certainly a good way of bringing across his notoriety to a pretty lady.
"I am Val Dindine, Culler of Bandits and Explorer to a greater degree. I suppose you could say I'm an unfortunate soul to a much greater degree. The undying, the desecrator of holy places - or rather, place, assuming the one time over in York wasn't anything that counted for much." He smirked, hoping that the way he put across himself was at least impressive, and didn't at all offer some sort of indication that he was in fact going out of his way to perform some acts against God. It wasn't that he went out of his way - it just happened by chance that God didn't want his laws to be obeyed or something. Priests were not as strong as bells, and drunken climbing acts didn't seem to be appreciated by bell supports.

The streets parted a little which made their trips through a lot easier than it may otherwise have been, and now Val found himself looking to ask a question in response. Nothing too forward, and yet nothing that would detract from the conversation. Something of equal balance, and obviously asking what her sister looked like would have been on the top of his lists of things to do. As it were, that would have been a very bad thing for him to ask, so he quickly stopped and corrected himself, instead going for an alternative line of questioning to see whether they could come up with some sort of timewaster between here and the castle. Turning his head to look up at her a little, forsaking the road ahead which seemed to automatically clear itself, he offered a smile as he posed his question.
"So you live at the castle hmm? Big place?"

[Charlotte Anne Lynch]

Charlotte clutched the saddle tighter as the horse began to move reluctantly forward. She tried closing her eyes and the opened them quickly a few moments later as the rocking sensation made her feel a bit ill. Her ability to find the humor in the situation had long fled and she was quickly nearing tears of frustration when the stranger answered her question.

Val Dindine...

His grandiose manner of giving her his name and questionable honors brought a smile to her face and even caused a small giggle.

"I'm not sure I want to know what that dubious honor in York is..."

She glanced up, searching to look out at the landscape as they passed, but her eyes fell on the looming castle walls and she sighed, the smile fading quickly from her face.

Defiler of holy places... if only he were a defiler of unholy men...

Lifting her eyes to the sky, she said a quick prayer for the safety of herself, her rescuer, and pleaded for her brother's mercy in the situation. It could so easily be turned against her... The last thing Charlotte needed was her position with Christopher weakened.

"So you live at the castle hmm? Big place?"

Charlotte offered him a tight smile. "A large home, larger than I would like. Empty all too often... Filled with the wrong sort of men... and never enough forgiveness..."

A voice rang out from the courtyard beyond the walls and as they passed through the gates, Charlotte found herself greeted by a handful of servants and quite a few guards. Guards that, as the hubbub broke out when they saw her lack of clothing, soon looked quite menacing with their swords and spears. It took some quick thinking and a small shout over the clucking of her ladies in waiting, but Charlotte finally got everyone to quiet and explained the situation.

"Take the horse to the stables, give her the best care we can. Please Aubrey..." A maid curtsied and stepped forward. "Take Master Dindine and find him a room, some fresh clothing and get the doctor. His hand is rather badly burned and needs the best care we can offer him as well. Then someone... someone..."

Her eyes scanned the crowd seeking someone to send to her brother when she caught the Captain of the Guard striding towards them.

"Oh wonderful... Captain Michael... The man's attention changed from the angry determination headed towards Master Dindine, to a softer, concern for Charlotte.

"Your highness..." The man bowed low and Charlotte graced him with a sincere smile. The Captain could always be relied upon for kindness and gentility as well as strength and determination when she needed it.

"Captain, could you go to my brother and tell him that we will be having a guest for dinner. And Captain... could you please... if... if something has been mentioned to him about an accident at the church today... could you.. could you please tell him that I'll explain at dinner?"

The Captain nodded towards her and turned back towards the main building leveling a hard stare at Charlotte's rescuer as he went. Charlotte, however, never noticed, so busy was she making sure her other orders were being carried out. Once everyone had cleared the square, her shoulders slumped and she turned to her closest friend, her lady-in-waiting Martha.

"I think Martha... I think I'm going to head down to the spring and take a bath. Could you have one of the other girls get me something proper to wear and come with me?"

The older woman nodded and placing a hand on Charlotte's shoulder called to one of the younger servants, giving explicit directions on what dress was to be brought down to the river, as well as which soaps and the like were to be brought as well. Then with a nod, she waited for Charlotte to begin walking.

Wrapping the blanket tighter around her waist, Charlotte moved swiftly back towards the rear of the castle, anxious for a soothing bath, clean skin, and proper clothing.

[Val Dindine]

She answered his question rather much quicker than he had expected, and afterwards there was a distinct lack of conversation as they approached the castle, its towers looming over him more and more. Three times he tried to casually guide Cilia off to the side a little to sort of distract them down an alternative alley, and three times the damned horse had defied him, instead sticking to the straight route where other mules and equines moved in and out of a large gateway. The fact that the beast wouldn't veer off course by herself was an irritation, but that she was actually disobeying his pulling instructions to deviate was even more infuriating, causing him to grab around the reins even tighter. Maybe out of frustration, maybe out of fear as there was a loud shout from above that was rather difficult to hear, but whatever it was he felt there wasn't much good in it for him. His stomach turned a little, and he gave a little glance at the woman, wondering whether she would be the reason he'd end up in prison, or dead. Were they trespassing here? Would they both end up on pikes the next morning or something?

She, however, seemed unaffected by the situation, and it was a confidence that failed to rub off onto him. Rather, it seemed to feed his own doubts about what they were doing. Coming around into an area near one of the doors into the castle, he hardly felt that he was leading this little brigade, but rather being the unwilling follower who was being dragged around at the moment. Yet his hand didn't let go of the reins, with the thought not even occurring to him. Not before they walked through that gateway, and not now that they were within the castle walls with the gateway not even in their line of sight. Almost immediately a group of castle occupants rushed over to greet them, some of which were guards, and armed at that. Slowly he slunk around to the other side of the horse, hoping that payback would kick in now. He'd saved her from the flames, now it was her turn to save him from becoming the guards' new punchbag. Or weapon rack, which seemed the more likely of the two options. They didn't look pleased, and still the woman didn't look fazed. She certainly was a mental one, and if she weren't still wrapped in his cloak, Val would have put into action the escape scheme he'd just thought up of throwing her off the horse and the riding as fast as he could. Away. Somewhere.

When her turn to speak came, however, it seemed incredibly worth it as she silenced the entire group and set them to work on the things that needed tending to. First, Cilia was sent off to the stables to be taken care of, and as that was being handled more things were being carried out. The horse was led away as the perplexed man followed a little with a few slight steps, murmuring a few phrases along the lines of 'Mind the bags, they're expensive.' and 'Don't touch the bread, I know how much is in there.' He hardly got a few steps, though, before he was immediately blocked by more of the castle inhabitants who was apparently dead-set on the condition of him and his hand. With the quick chirping from the handmaiden for him to follow her, he reluctantly parted ways with his horse, and the woman, to follow this girl around the castle now. Not a moment too soon either, as he caught sight of one of the guards who had a rather mean look on his face, and forced Val into a little jog to make up the distance from any sanctuary the servant may provide.

They were inside, slightly warmer, and climbing stairs towards guest quarters, with his damaged hand pressed against his chest, before his mind clicked into the right place. Looking back, he nearly stumbled up the next few steps, and then nearly fell down the rest of them, before coming to a steady position with his eyes fixed at the far wall as though it offered some sort of mystical advice that he should take heed to. She... that woman. She was really a princess. And he hadn't believe that she was. He was so shocked, in fact, that he said this out loud in such a way that startled the unassuming woman leading him to his room.
"Bloody hell, she was a royal member as well..." The colour of his face filled a little as he thought about what this meant. She was a royal family, and not only had he nearly set her on fire, he'd also damaged her dress, almost forced her into nudity and then rode around treating her like a loony. He felt like banging his head against the wall to teach himself a lesson, but his hand soon reminded him he was already being punished. Besides, there were walls in his room - he was sure they'd be more than happy to accommodate the impact of his speeding forehead.

[Charlotte Anne Lynch]

Charlotte slid into the refreshing water and sighed in satisfaction and relief. Ducking her head beneath the nearly chilling brook, she snaked a hand out and grabbed hold of her soap, setting to furiously scrubbing her hair.

Another dunk under the water and then she settled on her back and floated aimlessly, letting the sun warm her and the water cool her. Just being calmed and quieted as she had wished to be in the church. In time her eyes slipped closed and she drifted off, the gentle washing of the water over her body soothing her to sleep.

She awoke an unknown amount of time later to the sound of dear Martha calling her name and jerked upright in the water.

"Hmm?! What!?"

<b>Milady... It is time you dressed and headed back...</b>

Charlotte sighed, pulling herself through the water and up onto the river bed. Taking a drying cloth from the older woman, she dried herself and began slipping into her layers of clothing, shivering slightly as a breeze brushed over her.

"Martha... were there whispers in the castle of a mishap at the cathedral? Had any word of what happened to me made it back yet or was I still clear of scandal when I arrived?"

The servant's hands paused as she tightened her lady's laces and she sighed heavily.

<b>There was some word of a mishap, though no detail. It is possible Milady that you can still salvage the situation.</b>

Charlotte hung her head and bit at her lip, "I shouldn't have to. I should not have to salvage a situation in which I have done nothing wrong... I should not have to defend myself to my own brother because his advisors have a better way with words..."

She silenced herself instantly and straightened her spine. "No point fussing over it. I'll do what needs to be done."

Slipping into her shoes, she helped Martha gather the supplies and the two women headed back to the castle. Charlotte passed on the things she carried and made her way to the dining hall. It would surprise her if Christopher actually appeared. It was rare for him to show up on Monday's for dinner. His advisors often kept him locked away with meetings.

She paused in the doorway. That man... Dindine, Val Dindine... was already seated at the table. Christopher was nowhere to be seen. Her shoulders slumped for a moment, and then taking in a breath of determination, she drew her spine up and marched proudly into the room. Taking her seat to left of the head, she smiled at her guest.

"I cannot thank you enough for your help today Master Dindine."