fatedbeginnings·:
@versailleshqstarters / james baker & open
location: the village market
hand resting firmly on the sword dangling from his hip, james trailed after the giggling four year old before him as she darted between one stall and the next ( each bright and shiny object seeming to catch her attention more than the last ). they’d stopped once or twice to make a purchase ( and while he was certain the little girl wouldn’t recall their time in france, james was determined she would have some sort of memento from their time there — the start of a new chapter for them both ).
when the little one ran into someone’s legs and toppled over, james found himself expelling a breath as he moved forward to scope the girl up from the ground before dark orbs flickered up to the person who’d been all but charged. “apologies. seems she is overly eager to get to the next best thing.” flashing a smile as he straightened, james couldn’t help but release a small chuckle. “the market is certainly lively but i don’t believe anyone finds it as wonderous as a child— though perhaps i’m wrong.”
---
The markets had always truly held a wild sort of wonder for Alistair. Those in his home country appeared vastly different, though he supposed that at their core, they were similar. In a way, he used the location to quell a bit of his own homesickness, closing his eyes as he breathed in the scents and took in the sounds, The world moved around him, as it was known to do, though for one brief moment, Alistair could convince himself that perhaps the world could still enough to allow him to believe that he’d found his way back home. The Prince was roused from his thoughts at the sound of small footsteps, running rapidly towards him. Smiling, he opened his eyes, gazing down at the child before him. “Well hello!” Alistair beamed, offering the girl his hand. “My name is Alistair! What’s yours?”
Glancing up at the approaching man, he nodded, chuckling a bit. “Please, rescind your apologies! She has done nothing deserving of them!” The Prince shook his head, glancing down at her once more. “This truly is a wonderous place, you know. And,” Alistair feigned a gasp, lowering himself to a comfortable squat to level his gaze with the child’s. “If one cares to look close enough, places with such energy, so alive as the markets are, often possess a simple sort of magic.” Standing once more, Alistair shifted a hand behind his back, plucking a flower from a nearby stall to produce quickly magically in front of the girl’s eyes. “See? Magic.” Tucking the flower behind her ear, the Crown Prince slipped a hand into his pocket, producing a gold coin which he tossed to the stall owner with a grin. “My apologies for not formally introducing myself, Good Sir. I am Alistair Stewart. With whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”













