Chapter Three: ROBITAILLE
Robitaille was tall, dark and handsome, or at least he would have been handsome if he wasn't so scruffy. He'd grown a full beard over the last half-dozen weeks. He had his eye on a certain girl and was letting himself go over his obsession. He watched her from above as she spoke to the chocobo stablehands in Upper Jeuno. Her red hair was pulled into pig tails so tight he could clearly see the pale skin of the center parting from the distance of his vantage point.
He had followed her to Jeuno from San d'Oria on a whim. He was known for chasing pretty girls and was not unlike many young men his age in that respect. He was different in the fact that he was reluctant to let go of any prize once sighted, no matter what the situation. He didn't even know the girl, only knew that she had struck him with her innocent piety when he had seen her praying at the cathedral of Altana. He wasn't sure whether the intensity of his enchantment was due to desire to know that innocence or to destroy it. He was sure his mother had told his sister all men were out for the latter. It was the only reason he could think of that his otherwise completely self-serving sister would seek out the refuge of the church. But, in her narcissism, his sister was fiercely protective of her person.
Robitaille had wondered if this girl was the same as he had followed her out of the cathedral and heard her speak to a friend about going to Jeuno to search for some particular Tarutaru character. He had no interest in the reason for the trip, only in the destination so he might be there when she arrived tall and proud, suddenly letting down her guard when she saw him to run into his open arms—
Sometimes his fantasies ran away with him. He knew that, but he certainly didn't discourage himself from daydreaming.
He watched her discussing whatever business she had with the Hume man below and then watched as she saddled up a chocobo of her own, copper colored hair gleaming in the sunlight, offsetting the silver of her—
He startled out of his reverie. She was leaving! He hadn't even managed to convince her to run to his arms yet. He raced down the steps, slipping down three of them at a time.
"That redhead—with the pigtails—where was she going?" he demanded of the man she had been speaking with, between gasps for breath as his system tried to recover from the shock of the instant transition from mellow fantasizing to the thrill of the chase.
The man looked startled. "W-why, San d'Oria. She—"
"One of your fastest chocobos and quickly!"
"Uh, Amerine will—" he began to gesture with one hand.
"Thanks, mister," Robitaille said, straightening himself up and clapping the man on the back, before twisting away, grabbing a saddle out of the passing girl's arms and plopping it on the back of the nearest yellow bird. After a short moment struggle, he managed to mount up and dash off in pursuit of his pigtailed redhead.
The staff was still looking on in shock when he passed out of sight around the gate leaving Jeuno.
Amemalie was a little confused. She wasn't quite sure exactly what had happened that afternoo with the pair of Tarutaru women. One of them, evidently the one to whose advertisement she was responding, clearly did not approve of her for some reason. The other was the standard happy-go-lucky type of Tarutaru but needed to convince her friend. Amemalie was not used to lack of approval. She always did exactly what was expected of her.
Or at least, she had always done exactly what was expected of her until she decided to take up adventuring instead of remaining a soldier in San d'Oria. Her parents did not disapprove, at least not within her earshot, but she still had a nagging feeling at the back of her mind that she had not quite travelled the path they had set out for her.
Her chocobo moved at a decently quick pace through Jugner forest, but that didn't stop the strange Elvaan man from thrashing his mount up next to hers. "Evening ma'am," he said, giving her a curt nod as his chocobo, obviously incredibly exhausted, pulled ahead and dashed across the plank bridge across the river ahead.
'That's odd,' Amemalie thought to herself. 'I'm certain I don't know him, but he certainly looks familiar.'
Ness and Danjalie brought their chocobos past the crag of Holla at a brisk trot. They weren't so much riding leisurely as efficiently – the most distance for the least energy expenditure, the point of perfect union between two measured curves. When they had to bring their pace up short to allow some maniacal Elvaan to cut them off, while the rest of the plateau before them lay completely deserted, both their expressions demonstrated displeasure. Nessarose expressed disappointment and some aggravation while Danjalie's face held rage and a blatant desire for immediate vengeance.
"What in good gracious-" Ness said in shock.
The two women looked at each other from their now stationary chocobos and then back in the direction in which the Elvaan man was now disappearing.
"Shall we teach that ungrateful brute a lesson?" Danjalie hissed, voice dripping with venom.
"Someone should, but I think we'd be better—"
Danjalie didn't wait for Ness to complete her sentence and took off after the Elvaan at top speed.
Ness sighed and rolled her eyes. "Some days I really wonder about you," she said as she reluctantly urged her chocobo to follow her friend.
The Mithra rode like a madwoman, quickly leaving Ness behind, and closing the gap between her and the Elvaan who'd dared to offend her. Her mother had taught her to ride with a certain skill most young adventurers would take many years to learn and Danjalie could catch or pursue almost any running thing with the help of a good chocobo. She pulled up alongside the Elvaan man and glared at him intensely. He seemed to want to ignore her, but finally gave her a glance. At that moment, she pushed her chocobo ahead and cut the man off, just as he'd done to her earlier, except for the part where he was moving at a much faster pace and her movement required a dexterity and understanding of chocobo riding most would not have the skill to execute.
The man did not have time to pull his chocobo to a stop and lost his balance as the bird beneath him moved to avoid collision without its rider's permission or direction. The Elvaan hit the grassy ground and rolled perilously close to the edge of one of the many large crevasses that peppered the plateau. The chocobo he'd been riding continued to race off in the direction it had swerved, finally stopping at a distance several dozen yards away where it began diligently exploring the grass beneath a tree.
Danjalie pulled her own chocobo up over the fallen man. He looked up at her and then down the crevasse into which he'd nearly plummeted headfirst. "What in the name of all that's holy do you think you're--?" Her look of sheer malice made him lose his words. His mouth kept moving, but his mind told him that questioning this woman was likely to get him killed.
"You are San d'Orian?" she asked matter of factly, eyes still glaring although her outright snarl faded somewhat.
He stood and dusted himself off. "Of course I'm San d'Orian and you had the audacity to stop me from—"
"Quiet. What is your name?"
He blinked at her. His immediate reaction was to scream at her. Quiet? How dare this upstart feline tell him to be quiet? He needed to get to San d'Oria before the pigtailed girl so that he could have flowers ready and be on his knees ready to profess his love as she came to the gate. He needed to have her run to his arms somehow. All he knew was he needed to get to San d'Oria before she did. "Why—"
"What is your name?" Danjalie repeated, urging her chocobo forward a few steps, enough to force the man to take a step back and nudge a rock backwards into the crevasse behind him.
Ness rode up then, motioning in plea to the Mithra. "We're supposed to be—"
Danjalie lifted a hand to silence her friend, but did not redirect her attention. "What is your name?" she asked the Elvaan a third time.
He looked up at the vehement Mithra and the newly arrived Hume and then glanced backward at the crevasse on which he stood precariously. He considered approaching the Hume woman but then the Mithra's mount lifted its foot once again as though to push him even nearer to the edge. "Don't. I—My name is Robitaille, but I don't see—"
The Mithra twisted her mount away and looked down at him from the side. "I am going to ruin you," she growled and took off in the direction of Ronfaure.
The Hume woman slumped dramatically. "Man, why'd ya have to piss her off? I'd say sorry, but that was a stupid thing you did back there, cutting people off when the whole valley's open for ya? Now y've gone and made her angry." She readjusted in her saddle and sighed loudly before racing off after her friend.
"Wait! What? Argh!" He balled his hands into fists at his side. These women were going to ruin everything, and just because of some ridiculous traffic mishap. It was because they weren't Elvaan, he told himself. There was no way they could understand the passion and commitment with which he approached his life and his targets.
He chased down his chocobo, which was something he'd never had to do before always having mounted up in a stable. The chocobo seemed to take this as a game and would hop away whenever Robitaille came near. "What are you doing, you damnable bird?" he grumbled as he chased it from below one tree to the next.
Robitaille was nearly crying in frustration when Amemalie rode up. "Are you all right, sir?" she asked gently.
"I'm—what? Oh, I'm fine, thanks. I had a bit of an accident, but once I catch my chocobo, I'll be on my way," he explained softly, wiping his face with his arm to remove any visible evidence of sweat and tears. He could feel a flush come to his face in her presence.
"I'll help," she said, hopping from her chocobo. "Here, hold mine."
"That's really not necess—" he tried to stop her, but she placed her mount's reins in his hand, giving him no choice. When their fingers touched, Robitaille could have sworn he heard bells ringing in the distance.
"She's an angel," he whispered to himself.
"Hmm?" Amemalie inquired without turning around. She held a hand out towards the mischievous chocobo.
"Oh nothing," Robitaille muttered, watching in awe as the wayward bird walked right up to her and placed its beak in her outstretched hand.
She gently grabbed the rein near its cheek and pulled it over its head and led the chocobo back to its former rider. "Here you go," she said, offering him the reins.
"How did you--? I've been trying for--?"
She shrugged as she passed off one bird and retrieved the reins of her own mount from him. "They like me. They always have. It's just a gift I have, I suppose."
"You must be an excellent rider, then," he said, giving his chocobo a quick glare then watching as she mounted up in one graceful movement.
"Not really. I'm just not very frightening," she explained with a laugh.
'She laughs like an angel,' he thought to himself, almost in tears again with the nearness of her presence. She began to move away. He called to her, still not having mounted up himself. "Wait! I don't even know your name."
She laughed again and rode away. He continued to watch her, awestruck, as she rode off into the distance. His jaw was still slack when it occurred to him she had implied he was frightening.
His brow folded and his open mouth snapped shut. 'Frightening? She thinks I'm frightening? This is no good.' He finally bothered to turn to his chocobo and mount up. It pranced beneath him, paying little attention to his commands, but he was obviously distracted. He kicked in the right direction and ignored its little misbehaviors.
She thought he was frightening. He would have to fix that. After all, she couldn't know what frightening was if she had never met that Mithra. And that Mithra could handle a chocobo better than even the best San d'Orian cavalrymen and was also more frightening than any enemy any cavalryman had ever had to face, Robitaille was certain.