His encounter with Smoke had been satisfying -- to a point, but he needed something more. That night he had gone to sleep with Robert beside him in a room at the old inn, dirt side to maintain a low profile. Robert was watching him even as he fell into sleep. Ethan imagined that there was a light and warmth in the eyes of his second in command, friend, sometime mentor and occasional lover that he hadn't seen in ages. Perhaps it was only his imagination.

Another evening in the dirt side inn passed after he sent Robert back to the Camelot. He met a wild young Brit who had determined he needed new clothing and criticized everything he wore with the forthrightness of English youth that was refreshing. They had spent some time singing together, which delighted Ethan who loved to sing. He'd stayed in the common room long into the night. He hadn't tried to take her or anyone back to his room, he wasn't in the mood for that.

The next morning as he left his room, ready to turn in the key, Ethan paused, looked down and smiled. He lifted the note and read it through, chuckling here and there.

Ethan,

Dis' stuff is fer ya'! Dis' would get ya inta any club in London in da' future and I fink ya'll look really really really tastey in 'um. Umm...anyways. Hope ta see ya really really soon. Bubye.

Yer Brit,
Maddy

Softly sighing, he grinned and murmured to the air, "Dear girl, my wallet would get me into any club in London, but by God you're sweet to leave this." He laughed again, quietly. "Tasty ... hmmm, what she must be thinking ..." Then he paused on the closing a second time.

Hope ta see ya really really soon. Bubye. Yer Brit, Maddy.

He furrowed his golden brown brows and his long lashes brushed his cheeks. It doesn't take long, does it, old son, he told himself, speaking to his own mind almost as if he were two people. An evening in their company ... and they are 'yer Brit' ... your servant ... your woman ... your man ... yours for the taking. Mmm having an attack of conscious already, Ethan m'boy? That's not like you. But she's a nice girl and I can see why she'd be attracted to me... style, th'old gaffer used to say. Style indeed.

Style and flare. Well, the clothes had something of each. He gathered them up and went back into his room. Why not make a fashion statement? God, but if his mentor could see him now. First the shirt. He slipped out of his black tee shirt and stretched his muscled arms. He was lean but strong, years of swordplay had made it so. He lifted the shirt by it's collar and turned it. It almost glittered in the light. The metallic blue was almost too much for him -- he chuckled as he undid all the buttons and laid it across the bed. The black beret with the pins, yes, immediately he found he could get into that and plopped it on his head at an angle without bothering to read the pins or discern their purpose. It looked 'cool' in the local jargon and he liked it.

He slipped out of his chinos and eyed the blue jeans. The suspenders gave him pause and he shook his head a bit side to side. "For you, Maddy," he muttered, sitting on the bed's edge. He tried. Honestly he tried with all his valor but the damn pants wouldn't fit. The suspenders were all too short. He had no clue they were to be left hanging down and so he regrettably left them on the bed. He searched his drawers, and finding nothing, rang the Camelot.

"Robert?"

"Yes sir?" There was enormous relief in the deep voice that floated over the com-link. "Where've you been milord.. we've been worried sick... sir."

"Calm down, Robert, for heaven's sake. It's only been a day. You'll burst a blood vessel. Have you found the Sibling yet?"

"No, milord ... I'm sorry, milord, please please ... forgive me ... "

Ethan let out a puff of exasperated air. "Never mind groveling, Robert. Send me worn blue jeans, degree of wear ... severe."

"Yes sir, right away."

Oddly enough the combat boots fit as he slipped into them to check the size, awaiting the pants.

He penned a note to Maddy, thanking her and sent it through the inn's local post.

This was going to be an interesting day.

In a small, but heavyweight envelope, on elegant paper -- though not Camelot letterhead -- trimmed with fine lines of crimson, gold and lavendar Ethan had sent a note to the girl he knew only as Maddy. He hadn't seen her in a long time and he wanted to tickle her rememberance of him.

It had read:

"My dearest Maddy,

Forgive my absences.. forgive my missing you. I enjoy the hat immensely and have received several compliments on it. The boots... give me an air of authority. I haven't been able to catch up with you, but I wanted to let you know I was thinking of you.

with warm affection,
Ethan"

Months went by before he even bothered to notice he hadn't seen her since the night she left the gift.

====

Once the Castle was completed from prefabricated walls and set in the hillside as if it had been there for centuries, pristine yet and perfect, Ethan moved in. It was his Camelot, home away from ship and he desired to show it off. He told many a maiden and many a lord, many a spacer and many a rogue where he might be found. They came as they pleased or not. He just enjoyed the telling of it.

Of an evening he had ventured into the inn out of sheer perverse curiosity to see how the mundane folk were getting along in their medieval world. By chance he'd encountered a young lady he knew he would not desire and would likely never see again. He did a thoughtless kindness, impressed her with his gallantry and left it at that to go on home.

As he stood on the wide steps of his new home in Rhydin, he saw the messanger approach. Perhaps his expression was awed, perhaps he was just a wide-eyed youth not used to such extravagance. Ethan stepped down, receiving the box from the boy himself. He opened it and read.

Sir Ethan,

My thanks for your offer of kindness and good will this day outside the inn. 'Tis nae very often one meets another who has a gentle nature ,this realm is no longer new to me but 'tis a strange place. My thanks to you for the kerchief ,mayhap it seemed as little to you, but 'twas nae for me. Be well.

In kindness
Alisa Stone

He sniffed his handkerchief and smiled warmly.

"Wait, will you ... ?"

"Kyle, sir."

"Kyle. I'd like to send an answer."

The boy nodded and Ethan slipped away inside. Moments later he returned with a small package wrapped in white satin, tied with a red bow. He took note of the messanger yet again and called to Robert who came immediately.

"A small velvet bag, Robert. Thank you." The large framed man nodded to Ethan and moved back into the near castle behind them. In moments he too returned with a bag of deepest blue velvet to put the gift in. Ethan tied up the bag's golden cord and with a coin to his palm, ordered the boy back home.

"Give that to your mistress lad and be sure no ill befalls it."

When delievered, the note within was read and it's elegant hand proclaimed:

My lady,

Please do you enjoy this simple gift of silk handkerchiefs. They are not nearly so coarse as my own must have been to skin so lovely as yours. Your praise is far too high for me. There must be vast numbers of men kinder and gentler than myself. I beg you to accept this gift as a token of friendship. Always...

I remain,
Ethan Swan

He had Robert deliver the gift and afterward received no more replies. Surely she was too genteel a lady to be able to accept a gift from a stranger and be able to continue speaking with him. And so, that was the last thought he gave to the matter.