Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Sansa Stark, Mar 26, 2015.

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    the kingdom mourns the recent passing of their beloved monarch. Recently taken by a
    sudden and harshly burning fever, King Stephen passed from this world and on to the next one,
    leaving behind his wife, Queen Regent Lucille, and his only child, the new and benevolent King
    James. As Stephen's only son and heir, he now rules graciously above the kingdom of Prospyr
    with a hand of kindness and love toward his people. King James is well-respected and admired
    by those of all classes and creeds. It is rumored that there has never been a more noble king
    throughout all of Prospyrian history, though James is far too modest to admit it.

    The Queen Regent, however, is a schemer ahead of them all. Lucille has always been
    a backstabbing plotter since the moment she became King Stephen's bride. Though she is not
    the biological mother of the recently crowned King James, she has been the only maternal
    figure he has ever known since wedding the widowed Stephen a few short years after his
    wife died in tragically childbirth. She secretly harbors hatred for our loving young monarch
    and smothers herself in vanity and greed, under the mask of a pretty face to fool all who
    dare look upon her.

    In the opposite end of our little prosperous kingdom, a young girl suffers a fate far worse.
    Her father, also recently deceased from illness, left behind his small estate to her step-mother
    and two step-sisters, who have taken advantage of the situation to treat her terribly. Roslyn
    became a mere servant where she was once a daughter of the middle class, though she faces
    each day with courage and kindness as her mother had taught her long ago.

    In a twist of a most endearing fate, James and Roslyn will flip a system of classes on
    it's brutal head and bring peace to a mourning nation. That is, if dark magic does not
    interfere, or a jealous sorceress fails to achieve her gruesome goals.




    AGE: Twenty-five

    HEIGHT: 6'1''

    WEIGHT: 210lbs

    CLASS LEVEL: Royalty

    PERSONALITY: James is a very benevolent man, keeping close to his faith and belief that love is a stronger way to people's hearts than fear. He is merciful, though not unjust when punishment is called for and values the opinions of others at his side when making royal decisions. He is very proud of his country and the people who live there, always supporting local markets and businesses while keeping trade routes between other countries open. All who know him cherish his joy and his intelligent insight. In his spare time, James is fond of reading and birdwatching, and absolutely loves listening to people sing.

    BACKSTORY: Raised in poise and luxury, James does not seem a creature of either of those stereotypical habits. He is a generous and just ruler who always puts the needs of his people above his own. His mother, Queen Hannah, died tragically in accident while giving birth to him, though he was told time and time again that her spirit lived on in his heart. When he was only two years old, his father remarried and was seemingly happy for some time. James grew up calling Lucille "mother" and always treated her so. King Stephen was content until his sudden death just before our story begins, and the loss has made James an incredibly lonely monarch.

    FAMILY: King Stephen (father, deceased), Queen Hannah (mother, deceased), Queen Regent Lucille ("mother")



    AGE: Forty-two

    HEIGHT: 5'8''

    WEIGHT: 160lbs

    CLASS LEVEL: Royalty

    PERSONALITY: Lucille is extremely cunning and intelligent, perhaps too much for her own good. She is quite the chameleon and thrives on her ability to change personalities depending on who she is around and what attitude suits her needs. Underneath all the masks she is a cold and conniving woman who finds little joy in life, though she remains obsessed with staying young and beautiful. Around her son, Lucille is calm and collected, offering the bare minimum of emotion.

    BACKSTORY: Lucille's backstory remains largely unknown, but her supposed story is that she is the daughter of a nobleman from a neighboring country, well-practiced in the ways of magic. She has little in the way of family and friends, though her riches have spoken well for her in the past and continue to do so. She took James in as her own son after her marriage to King Stephen, and after his death she will step down from the Regency when James takes a bride.

    FAMILY: King Stephen (husband, deceased), King James ("son")



    AGE: Nineteen

    HEIGHT: 7''

    WEIGHT: 10 ounces


    PERSONALITY: Iridessa, know as "Iri" by her friends, is a bubbly and bright little thing with no limits and an endless sense of humor. There is no filter where she is concerned. She enjoys brightening people's days and spreading joy wherever she goes, though her temper is fiery when tested and she will not hesitate to put someone in their place who deserves it. Iridessa is fiercely protective of her friends and her forest.

    BACKSTORY: As you may have guessed, Iridessa is not human at all, rather a fairy from a nearby meadow's pod. She was born from a violet, hence her purple-ish hue. She is well known by in her fairy tribe and loves both humans and fae alike, though such things are typically forbidden. Iri is not one to pay attention to the laws. She met Roslyn shortly after she was born and the two became fast, best friends. She often sneaks off to visit her human companion when she ought be doing otherwise.





    AGE: Seventeen

    HEIGHT: 5'6''

    WEIGHT: 121lbs

    CLASS LEVEL: Servant

    PERSONALITY: Roslyn is the beautiful belle blooming in a summer's morning and the gentle flower whistling in the wind. She is the moonlight upon nightfall and all the beams of light in between. A poster child of joy and happiness, everything about this darling maiden radiates life, poise and beauty. Resilient and ambitious, nothing ever seems to get her down, not even the daily hardships which she has to face at home – exclusively embodied by her cruel step-mother and step-sisters. Her loyalty is something to be cherished, as it is bound to last for eternity. You can fight it, you can betray it and you can twist it – but she will not give up. She won’t give up on you, or who you can be. Due to her kindness, many would most certainly label her as weak, but she is far from it. She isn't a mere fighter, no. Instead, Roslyn is a survivor. Whenever she is able to do it, she enjoys to indulge in the arts of singing and dancing, as well as reading and listening to far-off adventures about heroic knights in shining armor.

    BACKSTORY: Life couldn't have been more unfortunate for this young lady. Although there are still fond memories of her mother which exist within Roslyn's heart, the sadness that came along with the loss of her presence is something which she will never be able to get rid of. She was only seven years of age when Felicity Fay went missing without a trace. A whole year had been spent in search for her, and a whole year had been necessary for both daughter and husband in order to be able to move on peacefully. From then on, it was only them – until one day, they arrived. When she was ten years old, her father remarried. From the very beginning, it was painfully evident that Cordelia disliked the young Fay child. However, considering that her father seemed to have finally found happiness again, Roslyn kept quiet about her sufferings. Yet with Eugene's death, her life was changed completely: Her clothes, her duties and her lifestyle. Everything that was dear to her? Taken. Treated as a plain servant up to this day, Roslyn feels lonely above all else, Iridessa being her only comforting ray of sunshine.

    FAMILY: Sir Eugene Fay (father, deceased), Lady Felicity Fay (mother, whereabouts unknown), Lady Cordelia Whitefell (step-mother), Narcissa and Charlotte Whitefell (step-sisters)




    HEIGHT: 6'1"

    WEIGHT: 203lbs

    CLASS LEVEL: Knight Captain

    PERSONALITY: Ser Richard Grant is a man of utmost chivalrous nature. Brave, confident and strong, he was not declared Knight Captain without a reason. Due to his marvelous past combat achievements, most people feel instantly intimidated by his reputation. However, upon getting to meet him in person, they will quickly notice that Richard is polite and open-minded, and perhaps coquettish. At times, he appears harsh, for he does not sugercoat - honesty is his strongest weapon. Yet, one shall always be assured that if his loyalty is gained, it will never disappear again. Often times, he is seen together with the king and gladly counsels James in times of unease or turmoil.

    BACKSTORY: Like father, like son. Ever since he was a small child, Richard resembled his father in more than one way. Like him, he became Knight Captain, and like him, he shares a close bond to the current king. Even though he is two years older, he gladly befriended James and they grew up together as very good friends. More often than not, the two men are seen together and in combat, they're invincible. It was only recently that they had to prove themselves again as a neighbouring kingdom had tried to attack Prospyr, yearning to take advantage of King Stephen's death. Luckily, they won the cruel battle and peace has once more returned - for now.

    FAMILY: Nathaniel Grant (father, alive), Amelia Grant (mother, alive)

    Coming soon!



      The following set of tabs is an explanation of the various locations and their importance as used throughout the story. Neither author felt the need to make a map as the number of locations are limited, but we will still provide descriptions suitable for the reader's needs! There are seven central places in total.

      The Palace
      The Marketplace
      The Meadow
      The Fay Home
      The Secret Garden
      The Forest
      The Cathedral

      All other locations used in the story will be linked in pictures.

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      The Palace is a great stone building at the top of a series of mountains, looking over all of Prospyr from hundreds of feet above sea level. The king and queen both live in this great home of luxury that sports over twenty bedrooms, four libraries and two grand ballrooms. The king conducts most of his business here, in the grand throne room where most of the court also takes attendance. Hundreds of palace guards patrol the walls day and night. The crypts within the mountain and beneath the castle itself house every great royal who ever lived, including the recently-deceased King Stephen.

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      The Marketplace is as the name suggests, a basic place of function for all things consumer-related. Buying and selling takes place for commoners here. The market's main courtyard is home to hundreds of tent-like booths set up daily from different' local farms and shops, from flowersellers to produce to cloth sewn from animal owners. The stores within the buildings themselves are mainly reserved for those of a more upper class price range, but aren't excluded to the occasional lower customer. Seamstresses, nice restaurants, bakeries, blacksmiths, furniture makers and the like inhabit a majority of the leased buildings.

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      The Meadow is a secret spot near the Fay family home, off the edge of the Glen River, facing the sunset. The meadow itself is flooded in wildflowers and all sorts of colorful foliage, with a view of the castle in the distance atop the mountains. This is Roslyn's favorite place to be. It is also the home to Iridessa's clan of fairies, a small group that only reveals themselves to humans worthy of acknowledging them. The meadow is blessed by the presence of magical creatures such as them and has never ceased to be beautiful, not even in times of drought, famine and plague. Access to the meadow is restricted for those who don't already know how to get there.

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      This little manor on the outskirts of the forests's edge has been home to the Fay family for four generations. Roslyn Fay, the last living of her once-noble line, inhabits this home with her step-mother Cordelia and her two step-sisters. Her father, now deceased from a heart attack in his travels, grew up in this house as his father did before him, and so on. She and her parents were once very happy here and she cherishes those memories of growing up within the old walls. Now, she is a servant to her step-family as the remainder of the household has been dismissed, though she takes care of the home with pride and joy. When she comes of age it will belong to her.

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      The Secret Garden is a small spit of flourished land just outside the palace's regularly-tended gardens. It is King James's favorite place to escape when he seeks solitude and privacy from all the toils of being a lonely monarch. The entire area is shielded by old iron bars, where vines of white roses are weaved in and out to create a canopy over those who walk beneath. In the center rests a small fountain, and just south is a great flight of stone steps that leads down to the riverbank for a beautiful view. It is one of James's most cherished places for his father proposed to his mother here. During the night, countless fireflies glow and flutter about, creating a breathtaking effect.

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      The Forest is a place of solitude for both Roslyn and James, where the two of them individually ride horses and seek peace in singing birds and fresh breezes. The forest itself is rather ancient, having stood for thousands of years longer than written history in the area and some believe it to possess magical qualities. At the center of the thickset area of evergreens rests a massive willow that stands taller than the rest, great vines from it's branches floating downward for hundreds of feet, and around the base of the trunk is a massive pool that is said to possess magic for those who have the eye for it. But of course, this great tree is only a legend and no living man has reportedly found it. Many have sought it out, never to return.

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      The Cathedral is the center for worship in Prospyr's main city. It can house up to 800 people and holds holy relics within it's elaborately painted walls, such as trinkets that various saints have used and different versions of the holy books. The ceiling was hand-painted and the altar is encrusted in gold. Royal weddings and funerals are held here, along with a weekly service worshiping the gods that happens every Sunday, typical for the followers of Prospyr's religion. A great fountain sits in the center of the cathedral's courtyard that collects daily donations, which is seen as an act of holy virtue. The money from the fountain goes toward hospitals and medical supplies, as well as providing food for the homeless.



    Religion in Prospyr is rather simple, consisting of many unnamed gods that the people have grown to worship over the centuries. Most of the people believe that it is their duty to appease the gods for good tidings, but not necessarily to know them on a personal level as mankind is considered independent from their creators. However, the typical Sunday worship is required for the most polite and respectable of people, and some even worship the many gods as one god, simply known as "The One," which is often used as a form of expression. For example, instead of saying "may the gods watch over your daughter," one would instead say "may The One watch over your daughter," to signify the gods coming together as one to bless the child in question. The Core Prophecies are love, joy, life, tranquility, health, wisdom, passion, art and strength. These things are seen as the most valuable of traits among people as they are direct gifts from the gods themselves. For the most part, basic church functions are similar to those of modern Christianity, though with some obvious and drastic differences.

    APRIL 15th, YEAR 1687 CE

    King James of Prospyr; The King of KindnessThe rise of the morning sun had once signaled peace in James's world. When the gloom of night was long past and dawn's welcomed gleams shed grace and beauty upon the world, the young king woke early to watch the gentle rise and feel relief in knowing that a new day was upon him. Where had that magic gone? So quickly after the death of his father did he feel alone in a world once so full of life. As a king it was his duty to carry on for the sake of his people, but as a son he yearned to be left to his mourning. James clutched the golden medallion about his neck and gave it a reassuring squeeze, his father's last gift to him, and set about lacing the front of his tunic.

    "You're mad, James. Absolutely mad." The queen paced about her son's regal chambers, trying ceaselessly to convince him to come to his senses. "You can't just abandon your duties for a day. You are a king now, you can't play these pointless games anymore."

    "I'm not playing games, mother. There are no cards, there is no joke. Even a king needs a day of rest." James buttoned up the front of his vest and brushed himself off, reaching for a navy coat. "I'll only be gone until the evening. Then I'll return and we can discuss the financial plans for the new bridge over Glen River, hm? Oh," he remembered, "and invite Lord Williams to dinner, will you? I forgot, I've needed to inquire about his wishes to sell his western lands..."

    "James, listen. This is a farce. Leaving the castle will do you no good."

    "It did Father plenty of good. Besides, it's been too long since I've given Red a good ride."

    The regent sighed, folding her arms across her chest in frustration. She still wore a gown of ebony to signal mourning for her late husband, though the king himself was no longer allowed that right. "There isn't a single thing I can say that shall convince you, is there?"

    "Not a thing." The young monarch gave an amiable smile, crossing the room to kiss his mother atop the forehead. "Keep the castle from burning down while I'm away, won't you?"

    "Of course." Before James could offer a goodbye, Queen Regent Lucille had left his company and slammed his door in her wake. It was painfully obvious that she held plenty of distaste for a king who needed a short leave of absence, but he was a human monarch above all things, one that was gripped in the trap of grief. Four short weeks had passed since King Stephen was taken from this world and it would take far longer for the son who loved his father to carry on. A day of rest would most certainly see him right.

    Perhaps this is foolish, he pondered, crossing the open courtyard and directing himself toward the royal stables. Maybe my mother is right. I'm sure she's only thinking of my well-being above all things. Yet as he glanced up toward the ascending sun high in a sapphire sky, he knew there was no other choice but to follow where his heart was pulling him. Saddling the gentle mare, James mounted his most loyal steed and gave the stirrups a thrust, thundering through the front gates of the castle in absence of his guard. It would take them at least an hour to catch up to him at this rate, but James was confident enough in his skills to survive in lonesome.

    Just a day alone with the birds and the trees and the memory of his parents drifting through the fresh morning air. One day was all he would ask for, and he'd return to his duties thereafter while leaving a small portion of his agony behind.

    Iridessa Lenne; The Friendly FairyThe Fay home was as much Iridessa's safe haven as it was Roslyn's. Or, as it used to be. The shrieking of Cordelia Whitefell and her two nasty daughters was enough to suck the magic and pleasantness from any previously harmonious place, no matter how hallowed it had once been, how treasured by many. She could hear the cries for breakfast long before she ever arrived at the husk of what the Fay home had become, a shadow of what it once was during better times in another life. Flickering her violet wings, Iridessa came to a jutted stop just beneath the sill of the nearest window and peeked her eyes through the glass, blinking once, twice. The blonde head of hair she searched for was nowhere to be found.

    Where's Roslyn? If she doesn't get up soon, those women are gonna explode!

    Taking it upon herself to discover the whereabouts of her dear friend, the little fairy took flight once more and zoomed around to the next window, coming to a dangerous halt just before her face hit the glass. No Roslyn. She bustled here and there through other nearby peepholes and transparent lookways in search for her sleepy friend and came up empty at nearly every turn, the shouts of her step-family growing more unbearable with each minute that ticked by. She was close to giving up hope altogether until little dark eyes spotted a blonde head resting on a pillow near the hearth, porcelain face smothered in ash.

    "Oooh, oh! Roslyn, get up! Wake up!" Iri stomped her little foot among the wood and pushed with all her might against the latch of the small window, blundering through as the small opening gave way. She darted toward the sleeping beauty and pulled long locks from her ear, drawing in a deep breath.

    "Roslyn!" she shouted at the top of her miniature lungs. "Roslyn, get up! Your step-mother's gonna wring your neck out if you don't get breakfast done! I'll help, I'll help!" Iridessa batted her wings and scrambled toward the worn counters, hauling a spoon twice the size of herself into a massive bowl. "Don't worry 'bout the eggs, I can get the mice to help with that--get the potatoes going! Quick, quick!"

    With a hasty flick of her wand, a glass cup lifted in the air and scooped flour for scones from a great cloth bag. "Let's see, bread, eggs, potatoes, uhh--tea! Teeaaaa!"

    Iridessa shot another spell in an opposite direction, watching the kettle come to life and stomp atop a cold stove. No matter what it took, the little fairy would help her friend survive in whatever environment she'd been given be it willing or otherwise.

    She'd promised Mr. Fay that she would, after all.
    • Love Love x 2
  3. Roslyn Fay; The Suffering ServantFor the first time after weeks, she was reveling in bliss. A dream so sweet had captured her mind that Roslyn refused to let it go. She was utterly happy then, reunited with her mother and father. They sang, danced and laughed, but most importantly, they loved each other - no one less than the other. Their time spent together was joyous and comfortable, thus indefinitely precious.

    And then, everything disappeared.

    Just as it was in nature’s course, her dream was but a dream that was meant to come to an end, and end it did. Heavy eyelids fluttered open upon the sudden ruckus. Her bliss was gone, as was her peace. Reality dug its claws into her tender flesh and educed a soft, tired groan from her lips. Meanwhile, the voice of her step-mother could be heard on the floor above, yelling and demanding for breakfast. Roslyn blinked once. Breakfast? Then twice. Breakfast!

    "Shortly, Madam! I am about to serve it!"

    In the split of a second, the young girl was finally awake and stumbled onto her feet, her every movement influenced by freshly pumping adrenaline. Instantly, her eyes met with those of her magical companion, who seemed to be as lively and lovely as ever. An expression of incredible gratitude softened her features when she said:

    "You’re a lifesaver, did you know that?"

    With those familiar words (for it surely wasn't the first time that the small fairy had offered her aid), she planted a brief kiss upon Iridessa’s head before she was off to prepare the said potatoes and to lay the table in the dining room. Whilst doing what needed to be done, her mind contained a whirlwind of messy thoughts and mixed emotions swelled within her chest. Even now, her dream had seemed so real to her, so close within reach.

    As soon as breakfast was set and her step-family was busy with eating and talking about visiting the Marketplace in order to buy new dresses, Roslyn returned to the kitchen and proceeded to take a look outside. With a contented sigh despite her hectic start into the day, she turned toward Iridessa, making sure that her vox was quiet.

    "The weather is beautiful. Do you remember what day today is?", a brief pause, "I'm planning to visit him soon."
    • Love Love x 1
  4. Iridessa Lenne; The Friendly FairyNaturally, from the swarming chaos of an argumentative morning in the transformed Fay home, little Iridessa was left quite exhausted. By the time breakfast had been prepared and served, she felt entirely out of the fairy dust she needed to function and yearned for a long soak in a rainwater bath. But there were other priorities laid before her. Leaned up against the refreshing cold of a nearby metal pot, Iridessa wiped her forehead and looked sadly to her dear human friend, who's beautiful face was smothered in ash and sorrow.

    "I know," Iri panted, sympathy laced in her smile. "I'm so sorry, Rosie. It wish it never happened, especially because you have to live in this." She gestured around to the cramped space of a filthy crowded kitchen, filled with storage boxes and knickknacks that Cordelia didn't want in the main areas of the house. A portrait of Eugene Fay, Roslyn's beloved father, rested against a box filled with old books and trinkets from his travels, prized possessions now rotting in the dark. Pity swelled in Iridessa's heart as it always had, and not for the first time she wished she were powerful enough to change Roslyn's dire situation entirely.

    I can't change it, that's just the way of things. But I can help, right? That'll be enough.

    The fairy pushed herself to tiny feet, brushing the small bits of dirt from her periwinkle gown. "You go take care of the inside chores, okay? I'll worry about the mess in here and takin' care of all those animals. That way your work can be done in half the time and we can go visit Mr. Fay together." She fluttered her wings and levitated from the wood of the table, scrubbing her hands along Roslyn's face to ease the ash of the fireplace from her skin. "Don't worry, Rosie. I'll make sure you can go see him today. Now go and get your things done, the sooner we're finished the sooner we can go. We can't afford to lose any more light!"

    Quickly, the two young women rushed about their stressfully filthy business. As expected, with the help of a little much-needed magic, Iridessa had a much easier time completing the outside work and cleaning the mess they'd made in the kitchens. In a rush of fairy dust and bubbly expectations, the little creature sped upward toward the dusty old attic where Roslyn was forced to take refuge and opened one of Felicity Fay's old wardrobes, digging through the priceless contents. "Hmm, let's see here...ah! That'll do." Iri pulled out a gown she thought fitting for what the day entailed, black fabric dotted in colorful flowers, the perfect mix of mourning and remembrance. She laid it in a flattering banner against one of the back walls along with a pair of matching shoes, and waited for her dear friend to return to see all that she'd done.

    Rosie can't go out in rags, Iridessa had decided.

    Let her have a day to feel like a queen.
    • Love Love x 1
  5. Roslyn Fay; The Suffering ServantTime went by in a blur. Each day was spent in the same pattern and fashion. Like a machine, Roslyn had grown accustomed to perform her daily duties with efficiency and care. On the one hand, it was actually good like this. She always remained busy until night, what left her no room to succumb to grief or mourn. On the other hand, she missed it to go out for a casual walk, too. To spend a day in the company of no one but herself, to feel free, and to simply be.

    "Have a safe trip."

    Narcissa turned around to size up her stepsister's figure. A wry smiled spread on her shapely lips, "What, in the name of The One, happened to your face? Did you stay the night outside with the pigs?" As if on cue, Charlotte joined her and stared at Roslyn with judging eyes.

    "Well, she certainly looks like one. You can't blame the poor thing for having tried to find sympathizers now, can you?"

    "Certainly not."

    Mocking laughter followed in their wake as they disappeared into the carriage which was ready to head towards the Marketplace, winding through the darkened halls of the Fay establishment which once was oh so very bright and filled with light. But Roslyn stood her ground. Just like she had once promised her mother, she would remain strong, kind and courageous.

    "Don't even think about slacking off, do you hear? I wish for my room to be clean again upon my return." Suddenly, Cordelia appeared next to the blonde. Seemingly calm and collected as always, her stepmother walked past her and towards the carriage.

    "But I already--"

    "Wrong. I messed it up again. Not on purpose, of course. But you know, women and their dresses," a fake laugh escaped her and she rolled her eyes, "their wardrobes are full of garments and yet they're never capable of finding something decent to wear." She halted in her tracks, sarcasm oozing off her serpent tongue when she continued, "Ah, right, you don't know because you only own one dress." Satisfied with her remark, Cordelia continued to walk and eventually joined her daughters in the carriage. "Make sure to do as you've been told."

    Now left alone at the threshold of her beloved home, Roslyn watched as the vehicle disappeared into the distance. Faint anger threatened to seethe through her veins, but she held it in. No matter what, she would endure. It wasn't for the fact that she was treated badly a moment ago, no. But: Even though today was the day of her father's death anniversary, instead of showing even a tiny bit of sorrow, they went shopping. How someone could be so cold-blooded and selfish? She didn't understand, refused to comprehend, and felt nothing but pity at this point.

    After another hour was spent in order to tidy up Cordelia's chambers, Roslyn finally found herself heading for her own room which was portrayed by the attic of the house. The sight which unfolded to her as soon as she opened the door, was one she didn't expect. In a matter of seconds, her earlier anger was forgotten and in its place, excitement filled her heart. Rosy lips curled up into a brilliant smile as she walked up to the dress which once belonged to her mother. Slender fingers caressed the fabric fondly.

    "It's beautiful. I can't describe you in words just how much the things you do, mean to me, Iri." At first hesitant, Roslyn simply admired. But then, remembering that her stepfamily wouldn't be gone all day, she finally changed into the lovely gown and slipped into the shoes. Her face was washed and with the help of small magical fairy hands, even her hair was made to look elegant. After her transformation, the young Fay performed a small pirouette in front of her friend.

    "Well? What do you think?"
    #5 Khaleesi, Mar 27, 2015
    Last edited: Mar 28, 2015
    • Love Love x 1
  6. Iridessa Lenne; The Friendly FairyOh, Rosie. You deserve so much better than a life like this.

    Iridessa, absolutely delighted by the notion of her dear friend's happiness, clapped her hands excitedly and fluttered about in a flurry of pure joy. "Oh, Rosie! You look absolutely beautiful! I wish there were someone you could meet, you're far too lovely to be locked away up in the attic like this." The magical little thing came to rest on the girl's slender shoulder, taking a seat atop the fabric and brushing her skirts so they looked elegant even though most wouldn't notice her miniature frame. "But that's alright, isn't it? Mr. Fay will smile down from the heavens when he sees you. Now come on, let's get going! We don't have all the time in the world to waste!"

    In a rather excited haste, the two young women left the Fay home behind and walked down cobbled paths, chatting about everything and nothing as the brilliant afternoon sun shone brilliantly down upon them through the tops of trees and wisps of cloud. They spoke of the lovely weather and the recent bridge the king had declared would be built nearby, of fresh cinnamon rolls they smelled outside the baker's home, of flowers and dresses and the blessings always to be had. They were strong believers that there was joy to be found in every situation, which was perhaps what kept them so close throughout the years. I will never have a better friend than her will I? Before long, the forest's edge came into view and Roslyn and Iridessa disappeared through the thick, beautiful brush of trees and foliage alike.

    No. Rosie and I are friends for life.

    "I love the smell of the forest," Iri said contently, as she did every time the two traversed the emerald area. "It's so fresh, you know? My cousins live just beyond this place, in a little forest meadow that's really a pain in the butt to find. I'd introduce you but they never show their faces to humans. Little pricks." She giggled in a playful manner.

    "Oh, but you know how family can be sometimes with those ugly step-sisters about. Blegh. Sometimes I wish you'd let me turn them into ferrets or pigs--or cows! Better yet!"

    It was certainly a nice thought.
    • Love Love x 1
  7. Roslyn Fay; The Suffering ServantRoslyn giggled, amused by Iridessa's passionate outburst as they continued to walk deeper into the forest. "You know that I can't let you do that, no matter how cruel they can be." For the split of a second, she tried to sound serious and stern-- yet failed to keep a straight face and giggled again, "Though I must admit that it might be a funny scene to witness." A finger moved up to her shoulder and poked against the small fairy's nose. "Don't get strange ideas now, young lady."

    "This forest holds so much memories and secrets from my childhood. And not only mine. Did you know that it was here, that my parents met each other for the first time? Mother had once told me about it. Apparently, it was love at first sight."

    A dreamy look dazed her chocolate brown eyes. "Actually, she told me about it more than once." She bit on her bottom lip, guiltily. Nah. "I insisted on it. And then, she would always smile while reminiscing. It was a lovely sight."

    Absentmindedly, Roslyn started to hum a melody which came so naturally to her that she hadn't even noticed what she was doing until Iridessa commented on it.

    "Oh, it's a song that mother has taught me. Do you want to hear it?"

    Following the fairy's request, the blonde belle nodded and cleared her throat. "It's been a while, so don't laugh, promise?"

    And then, she began to sing. An endearing tune, at first quiet, then louder and louder.
    • Love Love x 1
  8. King James of Prospyr; The King of KindnessThe forest air was as soothing as he knew it would be, flooding his senses with the relief he craved from a world as chaotic as a lonely monarch's. One leg dangled over the edge of the tree bark, his back resting down on the thickness of an evergreen's branch. James tossed a fresh apple in the air and caught it fluidly, sinking his teeth into the sweet flesh and sighing at the taste. Apples had always been his favorite. The palace gardens grew the most spectacular apples in hues of red and green alike, and James always plucked them from the greenery when he felt particular to that sort of snack. He'd made sure to sneak some of them for his day-long ride, knowing that upon his arrival back home a pie could be made at his request. I'll be sure to ask for one, and thank the baker tenfold with a bonus. She just had a baby, did she not? She could use the extra gold.

    The king cast his eyes upward toward drifting clouds and a fresh spring sun, letting his thoughts wander to more peaceful places and times long past far from his current grief. In truth, his head was miserable from the agonies of being king. He loved his people and was content to lead them to a brighter future, but how much longer must he endure the weight alone? His mother did what she could to help, though lately her heart had darkened and he ached for more loving company. It had barely been a month since his father's passing and already the new King of Prospyr yearned for a part of him that was missing.

    Yet, he did not know what that part was.

    "What?" James laughed, eyeing the way his horse stared at the apple in his hand. "You're hungry? You can eat grass, I can't."

    The beast huffed.

    "I am king and this is my apple. You're not having it."

    Another huff. The redskinned mare trotted gently up to her master, nudging his shoulder with the edge of her nose.

    "No! At least let me have another bite, you devilish creature." James chuckled and did as he said he would, tossing the half-eaten fruit and watched as Red lifted her graceful neck to grip it in her teeth. "Nice catch! Perhaps I'll throw it higher next time..."

    The king's attentions were suddenly dragged elsewhere by the sweetest sound unlike any he'd ever heard, light as a feather and delicate as stained glass, beautiful to the core. James slowly sat up from the tree and listened eagerly as the voice grew slightly louder, coming to him from the thickness of the forest beyond.

    A dream is a wish your heart makes
    When you're fast asleep
    In dreams you will lose your heartache
    Whatever you wish for, you keep

    Who is that? James inquired to himself, sliding off his makeshift chair and landing gracefully on the forest floor. He brushed the dirt from his leather vest. There's never anybody out this far into the woods, let alone a woman. A happy one. The king gave a glance to the hungry horse, who met his eyes, and there was an understanding between man and beast that the source of the heartlifting voice had to be found at any cost. Perhaps Red had known the desires of her master's heart, or perhaps not. It mattered little. James mounted the mare and galloped closer toward where the sweet song was leading him, a prize of innocence and rarity to be looked upon by admiring eyes.

    And he found her quickly, dressed like a proper lady and beautiful though her back was to him. She walked happily in her lonesome to some unknown destination.

    "Forgive me," he blurted out, not even sure if she had noticed him but the words were pulled from his lips nonetheless. "I didn't mean to intrude, my lady, I simply--"

    James wasn't prepared for her horrified scream.
    • Love Love x 1
  9. Roslyn Fay; The Suffering ServantOh, and horrorfied she was. Never had she met someone else who willingly wandered so far into the forest, too. Not anyone human at least. Accordingly, she was caught off guard and spun around so fast, that she stumbled over her own foot and fell backwards on her butt. Roslyn gasped in shock. This must be a dream. You're daydreaming. He is a figment of your imagination. However, considering that Iridessa was nowhere in sight anymore, it proved that this was being far from a dream. Most fairies avoided humans. And then, there were fairies like Iri, who made it a habit to disappear around humans she didn't know.

    Growing aware of their current situation and realizing that he had meant no harm, she evidently calmed down. Slowly but surely, the absurdity of it all dawned upon the girl—then she chuckled, a charming little chuckle. Perhaps a little awkwardly, but still earnestly. Heat ran beneath her skin, which caused for a tender blush to sneak on her cheeks. Who is he?

    "I-- I'm sorry, good Sir. That outburst was inappropriate of me. I just-- I've never met someone else so deep within this forest before."

    Her eyes scrutinized his figure with curiosity. He was handsome in every way, and his eyes such a stark contrast to her own. Her heart skipped a beat. Oh. Was she mesmerized? Maybe. It wasn't often that she had been given the opportunity to talk to men like this before, if not never. In addition to that, he was a stranger as well.

    Eventually, Roslyn tried to stand up in order to make herself more presentable. But as soon as she attempted it, a sharp pain ached in her right ankle. Her lovely face contorted into a slight grimace, making it obvious that she was in pain. Please. Just how much more embarrassment was she meant to face?
    • Love Love x 1
  10. King James of Prospyr; The King of Kindness"No, I--"

    At the sound of her terrified scream, Red reared in immediate protest from the sudden onslaught of frightened sounds. King James was very fond of the young horse but she had always been easily spooked, only ridden when he was certain of their surroundings, which he thought he'd secured. Oh, how wrong he was. "Whoa, whoa!" he called to the mare, stroking her mane until she was calm enough to allow him to dismount. The instant his boots hit the ground, James jogged to close the distance between himself and the maiden's side, kneeling before the potentially injured beauty. His lips turned upward in a handsome smile.

    "I'm terribly sorry, miss," he spoke to her with a light little laugh, though perhaps she would not find the situation as amusing as he did. Could he blame her? "I didn't mean to startle you. Forgive me, my lady, I should have thought better before I so foolishly interrupted such a beautiful song." James placed his hand over his heart to show sincerity, bowing his head in a polite greeting expected of one such as he.

    She is even more beautiful up close, he thought to his own dismay.

    "I certainly hope my actions have not injured you. You look as though you've hurt yourself though, it's probably my fault. Do you need help standing? I'd be happy to assist, it's the least I could do." The incognito king rose to his feet and offered a hand roughened from swordplay toward the startled young woman, a vision unlike any he'd seen, shocked beyond measure to find a stranger in the forest just as she was. Her blonde hair glowed under the shreds of light from the sun, wide eyes the color of chocolate.

    He had fled to the trees for a day of peace and instead found radiance in its purest form.

    "Please, allow me."

    I hope I haven't frightened her out of her wits.
    • Love Love x 1
  11. Roslyn Fay; The Suffering ServantHow could he be such a gentleman? Kindness was something which she rarely got to see nowadays. It was an alien concept to her stepfamily, especially her stepfamily. It made him appear so much more refreshing and noble, though of course, he didn't know that. Gratefully, she accepted his offer and placed her small hand into his much larger one. "Please. There is no need to apologize. It was my own silly fault. Usually, I'm not this--", in this instance, he pulled her up as though she weighted nothing. The power of the pull made it easy for her to stand up again, and to accidently aim herself straight into the stranger's arms, "--... jumpy."

    The sudden closeness between their bodies made her mute. Strangely enough, she didn't feel uncomfortable. Excited hit it more likely. Time seemed to stop as their gazes locked. And after a moment of silence, she dared to speak first. "You have gentle eyes, Sir."

    Like that, she pulled away from their embrace, but didn't break eye contact. Be courageous, Rosie.

    "Thank you, but I think I can stand on my own now."

    Carefully, she set her hurt foot onto the ground again. It still hurt, but the pain was endurable. Relieved about that, mirth refelcted within dark orbs, and the frightened girl had vanished completely. In her stead, there stood Roslyn as she was and would forever be. Brave, curious, honest and kind. "May I know the name of my charming saviour?"

    Funnily enough, it was the horse that responded to her. Instantly, her attention was stolen and she walked up towards the beautiful mare with soft thus slow steps. Obviously, Roslyn had no idea that it was this kingdom's king in whose presence she was standing, nor did it interest her much. Horses had always been her favorite animals though. A hand reached out to pat the beast's muzzle. To the surprise of both parties, it allowed her to proceed. "I'm sorry for having frightened you. I assure you that it was not my intent to do so." As the horse allowed her more access to touch, a happy smile crept on the blonde's lips and she exuded utter joy.

    "So you've forgiven me?"
    • Love Love x 1
  12. King James of Prospyr; The King of KindnessMuch to the king's surprise, Red sniffed cautiously at the stranger's hand and decided that perhaps she wasn't too terrible after all. She snorted and pressed her hooves into the dirt, and remained still, almost tranquil in the woman's calming presence.

    How is it that a girl would be more interested in a horse than a king? James chuckled to himself. Or perhaps she does not know who I am. That was certainly an attractive thought. The less fuss this meeting brought about, the better.

    "Her name is Red," the king stated as he returned to the side of his noble steed. "And mine is James. It is a pleasure to meet you." He lifted a hand to stroke the side of Red's muscular neck with great affection, though his eyes remained fixed on the strange, beautiful girl. "Might I inquire to your name as well, my lady, so we might no longer be strangers?"

    Perhaps he was being too forward, too hopeful in his curiosities that this girl should pay him any mind. James once had hope that he could discover love outside of political advantage and put the nonsense of love's lack of existence to rest, but maybe those notions were foolish entirely, just like his hope of achieving a peaceful day apart from a king's duties. He did not want to think that the woman beside him would change her tune upon learning who he was--wasn't it possible to befriend a person without titles and knowledge of alliances and backgrounds? Couldn't it still occur, to appreciate someone for who they were apart from the rest?

    "Before I forget to tell you, my lady, that was the most beautiful singing I've ever heard. You have a wonderful voice." He offered her a genuine smile and pushed away his other nervous thoughts. "If I may, could I accompany you to whatever destination requires you to traverse the forest? Only if you wish it, of course. I should hate to disturb any plans you might have."

    He glanced at her hands, noticing the callouses of work despite the fairness of her lovely gown. Yet another bizarre aspect to take note of in this girl, this creature dropped so suddenly from the heavens, or so it would seem.
    • Love Love x 1
  13. Roslyn Fay; The Suffering Servant"Red," she repeated approvingly and nodded, "It suits her." As the handsome stranger sauntered over to where she was and joined her to caress the gentle mare, she tore her gaze away from Red and looked at him, yet failed to stop her hand from wandering over the beast's shining bronze coat. It felt so natural to do it, so familiar.

    The young maid bowed her head in a polite gesture when she introduced herself as well. "My name is Roslyn."

    Once again, she allowed herself to study James. He owned such a beautiful smile. In fact, it was one of those rare smiles with a quality of seemingly eternal reassurance in it, a mere suggestion of amusement twitching at the corners of his mouth that only enhanced his attractiveness. It made her smile, too, albeit she was sure that her reasons were entirely different from his. She laughed. "You flatter me," Roslyn's smile turned into a cheeky grin, her voice teasing when she added, "Tell me, Mr. James, how often a time did you flatter a lady already?"

    Undoubtedly amused and still unaware of who he really was, she removed her hand from the mare and clasped it, together with her other hand, behind her back. She was enjoying herself. Who knew that it could feel so nice to talk with someone so casually again? Hope bubbled up in her. Hope, that she had been right all along this time. Hope, that there was joy to be found, no matter how difficult her situation may be. As long as she kept her heart close to this notion, she would never be lost and able to see the light at the end of the tunnel. She inhaled deeply. That's right. This is how it should be.

    "You may. But I have to warn you, my reason for being here does not entail a happy cause." Sorrow tainted her bright countenance. "It is to my father's grave I'm going." Roslyn fought the painful urge to feel sad, as it happened a lot during this day already. Her father wouldn't want for her to be gloomy on his behalf. He always put her well-being before his, never ceasing to make her feel as special as a true princess. She turned her back to James briefly, eyes taking in the beautiful view of different shades of green. "I sang because he wouldn't want me to be sad on such a day. He was a kind man." And what a strong girl she was.

    She turned around to him again. Her sadness was gone and her expression had returned to its usually friendly state. As they started to walk a few steps, she took note of his elegant and composed posture. "What has caused you to seek the solace of this tranquil place, Mr. James?"
    • Love Love x 1
  14. King James of Prospyr; The King of KindnessRoslyn. So, that was the name of the angel he'd encountered so suddenly. James had to stop himself from saying her name aloud just to feel how it would taste on his tongue, a name of honey to match the bearer. Could he resist the smile that followed? Certainly not in her presence. She put her hands behind her back and he found the gesture adorable, along with the way she spoke his name. Mr. James. She has no idea who I am, does she?

    Even so, his feeling of joy was not present for long as her words struck a wound deep in his soul. "Your father?" he frowned, hands stopping their soothing motions along the coat of his faithful mare. "I'm so sorry, my lady. That isn't a happy destination at all. A daughter should never be without her father." James did not give a single thought to why a man of seemingly noble nature would want to be buried in a place like this. The surroundings were beautiful despite how dangerous they could be in daylight or otherwise, a symbol of freedom in it's purest form. He glanced around to the trees that watched them silently before fixing his eyes upon her again. "I understand your pain all too well as of late. My father died unexpectedly a few weeks ago. His loss is still fresh in my mind." The king's smile was sad, as much as he could manage while still maintaining a pleasant aura in the company of one as stunning as she. James loved his father very much. He could see in Roslyn's eyes that she had loved her own father to the same degree, and they met wordlessly on that field of grieving understanding.

    "Anyway. Enough about that. Your ankle is in pain and I'd be an awful gentleman indeed to let you walk by yourself. May I?" James gestured with his chin toward the saddle and met her eyes for approval, and when she nodded he placed his hands about her waist and lifted her atop the red mare. He could smell the gentle scent of vanilla on her skin, his personal favorite. "There," he stated with a pleasant grin when Roslyn was secure, looking up to her sweet eyes. "Just tell me where to lead and I'll follow your direction, my lady."

    With a click of his tongue, James took Red's reins and maneuvered the two ladies forward, keeping a steady and appropriate pace. Not too slow to keep Roslyn suspicious and Red rather antsy, but not too fast to halt any conversation that might be had between them. He enjoyed the lady's company and remained dazzled by the light within her heart that seemed to burst through her eyes and gentle words. It was almost as if she were a rather enchanting spell, and he a weak-minded fool so wonderfully captured by all that she was.

    "As for flattering women, I admit that only few terms of flattery are meant with sincerity from my heart. The women I am subject to are often...not what I look for, to put it mildly." Gossiping nobles were never his taste. But girls with yellow hair who sang in the forest were a different matter entirely. "I suppose that's a part of why I came to this place today, to escape it all. My mother would have me marry one of those foolish women but I still believe that love is something a man like me can find." He turned his head back to the golden beauty and smiled. "Though, you can rest assured that my compliments in regards to your exquisite song were genuine. I've always admired a woman that can sing."
    • Love Love x 1
  15. Roslyn Fay; The Suffering ServantAn odd sense of closeness and sympathy stirred within her upon listening about his own loss. She remembered as if it were yesterday, in what a devastating state of mind Roslyn had been shortly after her father had left her in order to move on to another world. In a way, she still was, but had learned to hide it better with time. She wanted to comfort James, to share her apologies with him and to offer him her condolences; but something restrained the words from being uttered out loud. Perhaps she didn't wish for this lovely moment to be reigned by dark thoughts, and in a way, she also had the impression that he already knew about her feelings.

    As she sat on top of the mare, her fingers couldn't resist but to touch its smooth coat again. It had been a while since she rode on a horse. It was fun.

    "So she desires for you to marry a person who you don't know? For what reason?"

    Fine blonde eyebrows knitted together into an irritated frown. Poor Mr. James. "This is so wrong. Why else would someone marry if it was not for love?" She shook her head and confidently looked down into his eyes, "I am sure that you will find it. Love, that is. This is how it should be." Her back straightened a little, and in that very moment, she resembled Felicity Fay more than ever by continuing: "All you need to do is to have courage, and be kind." A sigh. "We all must, mustn't we?"

    The girl was simply not familiar with any other concept. Marriages that were held for the purpose of drawing advantages? She had no idea about them, and even if she did, her reaction would remain the same. She would deem them as dreadful, that's what she would do.

    "What do you seek in your partner of choice anyway, Mr. James?", Roslyn giggled, "Except that she can sing, of course. Perhaps I could assist you in your search." While they talked, a very familiar and special tree came into view. It's crown was of glorious opulence and rich in color. Right underneath it, two gravestones made out of lovely marble lay hidden. On one of the stones, the name of her father was written, and on the other, the name of her mother. The position of the gravestones, nor the stones themselves, exuded extravagance or nobility. Instead, the atmosphere, influenced by the fitting warm rays of shunshine, based itself on a touch of simplicity but also peace. Just as her parents were - simple people, but people of kindred souls.

    "Stop, please. We're there."
    • Love Love x 1
  16. King James of Prospyr; The King of KindnessShe hadn't needed to alert him of their arrival, for the sight of two well-marked marble graves was clue enough. James stopped the horse and moved to the side of his noble steed, gently guiding Roslyn off the saddle and on to solid ground. His eyes met hers for perhaps a moment too long and he drew away, suddenly sombered by the hallowed place they traversed together. When his hands were free of any part of the blonde belle before him, James knelt at the side of the tree's edge where he sliced free two wild roses with the edge of his sword, one for each grave, and placed them delicately atop the marble. He sheathed his weapon and stood respectfully back, a hand over his heart.

    "There," he spoke at last with a sad little grin. "Perhaps I should have asked your permission before I did that, but I was drawn forward. Forgive me."

    It suddenly occurred to him that perhaps she did not want him there. Now she had arrived at her destination, the graves of her mother and father, shouldn't privacy be called for? A time of peace and mourning? A very small, selfish part of him yearned to stay and remain in the company of her pure spirit, but James was a respectful man above all things and would honor the lady's wishes if she asked him to leave.

    Until, he saw the name carved in pale marble.

    "Fay? Eugene Fay?" James crouched before the place of rest and studied the words engraved in stone, knowing he had read them correctly. "I didn't know he'd passed away. My father used to purchase goods from him, he was a merchant, no? Your father. Huh, what a strange coincidence." He couldn't help but crack a fond smile. "Our fathers were friends. I'd met Mr. Fay on more than one occasion, you see. Very kind man. Always spoke of his beautiful wife and daughter..." James scratched the stubble on his chin. "A merchant's daughter." Could make a fine queen someday, he dared to think. "I did not know he'd gone from this world. What a terrible loss, I'm sorry. His kindness will be missed." The king rose to his feet again.

    "Though, I suppose it brings you comfort to know that they are together in heaven. I think that way often about my father and mother." He cast a glance to the beautiful girl beside him, lips curling upwards in recognition. "You have his eyes. His always used to sparkle when he spoke of his family, that is what I remember most about him. Ah, forgive me though, I fear I've said too much. You've come to grieve and I have so rudely interrupted your time..."

    He took a few steps backward, prepared to reluctantly retreat should she ask.
  17. Roslyn Fay; The Suffering ServantWithout a word, an arm reached out towards his retreating figure. And before she knew it, she held his hand in hers. "Don't go." Small, crystalline tears she didn't even know had welled up in her eyes started to drop. His actions, and even his speech had touched her beyond words more than he was probably aware of. How was it, that a stranger was able to show more kindness for someone he barely knew than her own so called family did? How? You have his eyes. His always used to sparkle when he spoke of his family, he said. She smiled, although the gesture didn't appear joyous. Broken, at most, and yet a hint of relief was hidden in it too. Oh, father. Though, I suppose it brings you comfort to know that they are together in heaven. If only.

    "Stay with me. He would want you to."

    Gently, she pulled James back next to her side, then turned her face so that she could look at the graves. Not even once did she spare a thought about whether his story was of true quality or not. It wasn't in her nature to doubt. "If father received you with friendship, so will I." She squeezed his hand momentarily. "So please--" Don't go. When he agreed, Roslyn nodded, an unspoken thank you exchanging between them. She lifted her free hand to rub at her eyes, laughing. "And here I swore not to cry. I'm a failure of a daughter."

    Taking a deep breath, she tried to regain her composure, reminding herself that she might cause her charming company discomfort. She could do this. And it was then, that she finally realized how fortunate their meeting truly was. His presence provided her comfort, one which she was not sure if Iridessa could have given her. He was human, as was she, whereas both were familiar with the grief of the other. From then on, she started to talk to her father, his headstone, his memory. About how good she was being treated by Cordelia, that she was doing well and she missed him terribly. Never did her poise falter as she went on, the desire to prove and show that she had matured, strong. At last, a flower which had rested in her hair was taken from its place and instead, it joined one of James's rose.

    By the time she was done, she had spilled more tears than preferred. Her button nose was reddened, as were her eyes, and yet she still possessed beauty. Finally, she let go of James's hand and performed a curtsy.

    "Thank you, for both the roses and for having stayed. Is there... Is there any way through which I could return the favor?" Her voice was filled with a hopeful timbre, her expectations high.
    • Love Love x 1
  18. King James of Prospyr; The King of KindnessHe couldn't tell her not to cry. It wasn't his place to do so, nor could he assure her that everything would be alright and her father was in a better place. James was a man of faith and prided himself on his devotion to the gods, but how could he bear saying a single word to her that was questionably a lie? True, he had hidden his identity from her and intended to do so for as long as he was able, but he had spoken no ill truths towards Roslyn and would kick himself if he ever did. Already he cherished her enough to prize her integrity and her feelings. Already, he thought her to be precious.

    Would that feeling ever cease?

    James kept her hand in his, a kingly heart cracking at the sight of the blonde beauty in tears. He could not blame her. He squeezed her hand in periodic reassurance throughout her little speech for her father and drank in every word, appreciative that she would open herself up in the presence of an absolute stranger.

    Though, I suppose we aren't strangers anymore. He almost chuckled at the thought. Friends, then? Acquaintances? Anything but strangers now, surely.

    "Please, Lady Roslyn, you don't need to thank me." James gave a humble smile and turned to face her, letting his thumb brush against her pale cheek to wipe a tear away. "You asked me to stay and I did, and I would do so again. It is a bad gentleman indeed who ignores a lady's wishes. Especially during her time of need." The king gently dropped his hand from her soft face and placed it atop those which were already intertwined, one hand calloused with labor, the other with the art of swordplay. He met her eyes with tranquil hope and sincerity.

    "There is no repayment needed, though I would be the happiest of men if you would allow me the pleasure of seeing you again. Preferably with less tears?" He chuckled despite himself. "Dine with me at the end of the week, won't you? Any place of your choosing, even in the middle of the forest if you so desire. As long as I might see you again. Then you may will me away and never look on my face again if that is what you wish," he laughed playfully. "Though, if you did that I can't guarantee I wouldn't the tiniest bit upset."

    He raised a hand, giving an inch of space between thumb and forefinger to show just how miniscule his frustration would be.
    • Love Love x 1
  19. Roslyn Fay; The Suffering ServantHer heart fluttered at his words. He wanted to see her again. Despite their odd first encounter, he was desiring to spend more time together. That alone meant so much to her. Not even the most grand gift could have evoked the same meaning, nor would she ever be willing to trade it. Indeed, it was a small thing, but for Roslyn, it was everything.

    She laughed at his last gesture and shook her head. "I would love to meet again, too." She wanted to show him that she wasn't usually this glum or weak, and she wanted to know more about James, about who he was and where he came from. "And with less tears. Preferably none at all," she promised. At first, her own home came to mind in regards to a proper meeting place. However, with her stepmother there, this option was already bound to end in tragedy. So instead, she decided for something else, something precious. "Let's meet at the godly statue near the Glen River?", it was a famous statue which once was made in honor of Prospyr's treasured gods. Everyone in the kingdom knew of its existence. "There is something I wish to show you. A surprise, if you want."

    As it was time to part, both parties were required to take opposite routes, already separated by a little distance. Whilst James was once again seated on his magnificent horse, Roslyn walked on her own. Her head was turned aside so that she was still able to look over her shoulder and after her newly gained acquaintance. There was a moment in which both refused to move, to go, and they simply looked at each other. She was the first one to look away, but not without having waved at James first.

    By the time that she arrived back home, it was still empty, just as she had left it. Most of the chores for the day had been finished due to Iridessa's help, which gave Roslyn enough time to write a small entry about today's wondrous meeting into her diary. A smile adorned her lips as she wrote.

    "Roslyn! Get down here this instant!"

    Right after the last word was written, the shrieking voice of her stepmother surprised her. She is back. Yet, Roslyn's smile didn't fade as she put her diary back into a secret box which she kept hidden from the sight of others. The girl quickly changed her clothes, undid her hair, and finally went to approach her ever impatient nightmare.

    We will meet again.
    • Love Love x 1
    APRIL 16th, YEAR 1687 CE
    King James of Prospyr; The King of KindnessEchoed clashes of sword against sword rang back through the cobblestone courtyard, accompanying the grunts and groans of hardworking battleplay. When the two weapons came apart once more after a grueling session of set practice, the king let out the most delighted of laughs and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his sleeve. Physical exertion made James feel human, in tune with the core of his spirit. The sword brought a sense of safety and a drive for self-preservation. "You've gotten slow, Richard. Shall I find someone more appropriate to fight with you?"

    Ser Richard Grant, a gallant soldier and the king's best friend since birth, stood opposite him in the fighting ring designed for his majesty to practice swordplay as he pleased. The two had been hacking at each other for most of the morning, a much needed training to reaffirm the physicality required of them. The end of the last war was still fresh on their mind and it prevented either of them from sparring properly. Both parties knew it was necessary, though, hence the rude awakening from the king's dream-filled sleep to practice with his dear friend until midday.

    There was something else on the king's mind, however. Someone else.

    And Richard knew it.

    "I can't say I'm not slow either. I'm just...distracted. There's a good word." The king jabbed his sword into the dirt and leaned against the wooden railing, removing his gloves with a sigh. "It's that girl I met in the forest, the one I told you about. Roslyn Fay. I can't stop thinking about her. I can't stop looking forward to the day after tomorrow when I can see her again. Is that foolish of me? Mother says I shouldn't ever let a woman get into my head as she has, but I can't help it. I was enchanted to meet her. And her voice..."

    James folded his arms across his broad chest and cast his eyes to the sapphire sky. Clouds took mysterious forms and he tried to identify them in the back of his mind. "I can't help but wonder if it wasn't fate that brought us together yesterday. She needed comfort and I needed a reminder that humanity is still precious despite all I've seen. Is it too ridiculous to think that she was sent by the gods?"

    For she was certainly an angel.

    Iridessa Lenne; The Friendly FairyOh, how she despised the Whitefell family. Iridessa sat fuming behind a stack of plates in a dark kitchen cupboard, listening to the women spread her gossip and lies, specifically about Roslyn and the home that surrounded them. It was one of their favorite pastimes and always had been, especially when the girl in question was currently present in the same room. The little fairy wondered if the three women felt powerful when speaking such hateful words to a person, be they present or not. She watched Roslyn quietly slip away from the dining room after lunch was served, and so too did Iridessa.

    Snooty jerks. I can't wait until Rosie's rid of this place and these people.

    The miniscule being had grown accustomed to slipping past the sight of the Whitefell women. They never looked at anything or anyone other than themselves, and their attire was typically so star-studded with glitter that a glimpse of Iri in the corner of the eye always went unnoticed. When she was confident that the gossiping ladies were out of sight from her flittering form, Iridessa fluttered her wings to take flight, landing swiftly on Roslyn's shoulder and giggling in her success.

    "Your face is covered in ash again," she stated, "but you look so happy. I can't wait to hear all about that man you met yesterday! Sorry I disappeared. You know how I am." Iri patted the human's cheek with great affection. "He was soooo handsome! And the way he looked at you, my. He loved your singing. I could feel it in his aura, it lit up with joy the second he laid eyes on you!" The little fairy raised her hands to the air with glee, face alight with joy for the happiness of her dear friend. "Do you know what you're gonna wear? Oh, we've gotta pick out something really nice. Maybe he's the one, you know? I think I'm gonna--"

    A loud knock came suddenly at the door. "Delivery!" cried the voice behind glass, and from the dining room Cordelia raised her voice in stern command. "Roslyn! Get the mail, leave it on the coffee table for me to sift through later. And we'll need more tea!"

    "Bossy, bossy." Iri folded her arms across her chest. "Let's get the mail then, Rosie, and then we can go up in the attic so you can tell me all about the handsome stranger."

    I bet it's a romantic story.
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