The Old Kingdom
Sabriel was roaming around the annual market in Belisaere. It was a beautiful city, despite some of the unpleasant activities taking place there. The bright sun shone, giving a warmth and beauty not yet reached nearer the Wall.
She walked over to a soap seller's stand. The middle-aged woman smiled briefly at her, then turned back to the baby in her arms. Two rowdy children laughed and chased each other behind the soapmaker. Sabriel smiled wanly, trouble lurking in her eyes. She could feel the presence of the of the Dead nearby, but quickly passed it off. The Dead were common around Belisaere, what with frequent-and infrequent-murders, fights, and other disruptive behaviour found in the royal city nowadays.
The bars of soap had an inviting scent, after the fresh blood from the butcher across from her. Sabriel picked one up, sniffing it lightly. It had a faint lavender mist scent, with a tinge of apple. It was a fine scent, and Sabriel quite liked it. She set it back in the woven basket, and hefted a pale yellow bar in turn. The soap smelled strongly of lemons, to which Sabriel immediately set it back down. She'd had enough of lemons lately. After her first arrival in Belisaere, a few weeks ago, she'd had a troublesome experience with lemons for no.
The battle against Kerrigor, one of the Greater Dead, at Wyverly College had drained her. She knew it, too. That was why Touchstone had told her to come back here. It was lovely, relaxing, and swimming in Charter magic. She could heal quickly. The one thing she had not counted on was Touchstone following her every move.
Indeed, there he was, just a few stands down, buying fresh goat cheese. He loved goat cheese, as did Sabriel. He looked back towards her, and their eyes met. Touchstone quickly handed the seller some silver coins, then made to follow after her.
To anyone outside watching them, they must've looked like an unhappy couple. Sometimes Sabriel felt like they were in that sort of relationship, wha with the prince of the Old Kingdom watching her every move. Touchstone was overprotective sometimes, and his concern got on Sabriel's last nerves. At least he'd finally given up on calling her 'milady' as often as he had. She appreciated that, at least.
Touchstone strode over to her. "Sabriel, how are you? Is the sunshine helping any?" He asked. Sabriel nodded wearily, wishing he'd stop with the torrent of questions.
"I'm fine, Touchstone. Can you stop? Why can't we just act normal? You know, without all the concern, and pressure of being King, and me the Abhors-well, you know. Please, Touchstone? Just a normal day. A normal day at the market, then going to the spring festival tonight, all right?" Her grey eyes pleaded with him to say yes. She had tied her dark hair up, and was wearing casual Belisaeri style clothes. Touchstone was dressed in a similar fashion.
Sabriel stared at him, willing him to agree. He looked at her, then at the cobble-stoned ground. He sighed, thn spoke. "Fine. But just for today." Sabriel grinned at him, tugging him along by the wrist. "You're too much like Saraneth, binding me to your will!" He muttered, then yelped as he tripped over a cat. A white cat.
"Watch where you're going, fool!" Mogget said.
Touchstone stared at him dumbfoundedly. Mogget sighed, then jumped on Touchstone's shoulder. "Lead on, Abhorsen." The Free Magic creature said to Sabriel, who had stopped when Touchstone yelped.
"Mogget! What in the name of the Charter are you doing here?!" She asked, bewildered. She kept meaning to change the bell on his collar to Ranna, so he would stay more dormant, but insofar, he stayed with Saraneth.
"I'm watching after you, obviously." He remarked snidely.
I've got enough of that from Touchstone, she wanted to say, but she bit her tongue. She pulled Touchstone and Mogget down the street, finally stopping at a pet stand.
The stand was filled with all sorts of varying beasts. There were cats, dogs, birds, horses, squirrels, rabbits-one of whom looked suspiciously like Bunny, from her Wyverly days-, mice, and ferrets from Idari, and land far southeast. Sabriel looked at the dogs, one standing out to her particularly. A dark brown-and-black medium sized one, with pointy ears and a cheerful, if lopsided, grin.
The shopkeeper caught her gaze. "Ah, yes, this here is a little fiesty beast. I call her the Disreputable Dog, or the Disreputable Bitch when she's in trouble. Lovely, but she's not for sale, miss. Why don't you take a look at..." Sabriel stopped listening to the round man, instead looking at Mogget with a little tabby cat. Mogget was bristling, apparently infuriated by something the tabby had said.
"Come away, now, Mogget. Leave the little one alone." She said to the white cat. He glanced at her, then went to licking his downy chest fur, bright pink tongue a shap contrast to his stark white fur. Touchstone had gone to the falcons, but was now right at Sabriel's left arm, a bird perched on his wrist. It squawked, then flapped back to its roost. Touchstone looked aghast. Sabriel laughed; he had falcon feathers in his curly hair.