Enchanted

[Krul]

[fieldbox=Ser Richard Grant; The Faithful Friend, #800000, solid, 0, book antiqua]Stark blue eyes observed the king with unblinking attentiveness as Richard moved to rest at his companion's side, hands guiding a flask filled with water toward his slightly parted lips. It was almost funny, really. Never in his life had he been able to witness James in such a condition, at least not in regards to a woman. Usually, it was the other way around, for Richard was a man who had one too many of a 'romantic heart'. A husky chuckle sounded, what eventually provoked a twist of the mouth into an upward-slant.

"Sent by the gods, you say? My, my, it seems like that girl has charmed you greatly."

He poured the remains of his flask over his sweat-laced face, a sigh leaving him as it provided a welcoming refreshment.

"What exactly separates her from all the other fine women you've met so far? Only her voice?"

It is safe to say that Ser Grant, Knight Captain and faithful friend, was a man of passion - love was a foreign concept to him. He didn't believe in it, nor did he see any valuable necessity in seeking it. All the more was he highly curious about James's current state of mind.

"Come on James, what about beauty?"[/fieldbox]

[fieldbox=Roslyn Fay; The Suffering Servant, #33cccc, solid, 0, book antiqua]Even though the day had started as per usual, the same couldn't be applied to Roslyn. By the time she had woken up, a smile graced her lips. And as she prepared herself to do her daily chores, her steps entailed a certain happy spring to them. To her demise, her stepmother and stepsisters had taken note of her change of behaviour and made it their duty to be nastier than ever. After all, not even happiness was something she was meant to own. For the time being however, Roslyn simply didn't care and didn't pay attention to their cruel ways, not if she was as happy as to that time. She promised to tell Iridessa everything about the very reason for her good mood before she opened the door to greet the mailman.

"Good morning, Tom!"

"Miss Rosie, good morning!", replied Tom, a rather elderly man with whom Roslyn shared a friendly relationship ever since she was a child. Each day, he came knocking to the exact same time.

A worried expression spread on her face as she eyed his tired figure. "You're a little later than usual. Did something happen?"

Tom sighed deeply and shrugged with his bony shoulders. "It's my wife. She's fallen ill and we're very short on medicine as of recently. I'm working and working, but the money just won't add up." Tom's wife had a nasty habit of gifting all their money to her many selfish and money-grabbing siblings. She considered herself as generous, but in fact, she was flat out foolish and naïve. Roslyn regarded him for a moment; then she briefly disappeared into the house. Upon her return, she was balancing a very small pouch in between her fingers and offered it to Tom. "It's not much, but I hope that this will help you regardless. I've saved it for a while now, but I have the impression that you could need it more than me," she held the dangling object toward him and nodded in a reassuing manner, "Take it."

Tom froze on the spot, shocked by the belle's kindness. His eyes turned watery, and it became evident that he was trying to prevent himself from tearing up. Gladly, he accepted the pouch and carefully put it into his bag. "Thank you, Miss Rosie. I will use this wisely. You resemble your mother more than you may imagine. But enough of this! I actually have a parcel for you." A warm smile spread on Tom's lips as he gave it to the blonde. "I must go now. Have a good remaining day." Confusion was written all of her face as Roslyn closed the door behind her and considered the wondrous parcel with utmost curiosity. Never had she received a parcel of her own. This must be a joke. A dream. But there it was, her name, written in the most elegant handwriting: Roslyn Fay. Nervously, she sought after Iridessa's assessment regarding this matter, but they got interrupted.

"Roslyn! What did the mailman bring? And where is the tea!"

"Nothing Madam! He-- he made a mistake. There was nothing he delivered." Suspicion crept Cordelia's countance as soon as her stepdaughter served the essential tea, a stupid smile on that wretched girl's face again. How gruesome. "Well then, enjoy your meal."

With those words, she sped toward the kitchen, picked up the mysterious parcel and aimed straight for her room. Roslyn couldn't hide her excitement about something simple as that. As the pair of human and fairy reached the attic, they sat down on the spare bed in the far off corner and scrutinized the unfamiliar object. "What could it be? Who could have sent it to me? Should I open it?" Her gaze wandered to Iri, who obviously insisted on the secret being revealed.

Cautiously, she started to tear at the paper which was wrapped all around. As soon as it was off, the girl's breath hitched and her eyes widened. A pretty box came to surface, looking almost too precious to be touched. And as she opened the box, her breath had been taken completely. A beautiful gift in the form of a glittery butterfly greeted her sight, thus upon closer inspection, it was actually a hair accessory. Not only that, but beneath the butterfly, there lay a small card hidden which said: For the girl with the most enchanting voice. Finally, she knew about the identity of this magificent gift's provider.

It is from him.[/fieldbox]

 

[moffnat]

[fieldbox=King James of Prospyr; The King of Kindness, #e0c04c, solid, 0, georgia]Richard was certainly a forward person when it came to inquiries of the king's love life. The knight-captain had been throwing women at James since he'd come of age, offering this match and that one, insisting that every woman he'd tossed his way was the right queen for him. While James had considered all of those options to be lovely and very suitable brides for perhaps a different man, there was no stir in his soul when he looked and spoke to them, no immediate chemistry that drew the king to any of those potential ladies. He needed more.

Roslyn, on the other hand, was different almost entirely. Why was that so difficult to understand?

"I didn't say her voice was the only thing I liked," stated the king with a heavy sigh, carding rough fingers through his curls. "It was beautiful, yeah, you know I have a weakness for that sort of thing. She had beauty though, aye. Eyes the color of rich chocolate, skin that was soft and warm and pale, yellow hair like a shade of the sun. But there was passion too, a fire that couldn't be doused, but one that took no homes and burned no villages. A gentle fire. One that was sparked by kindness. She was the sweetest person I've ever met, Richard, and I say that in earnest."

The more James spoke, the more it sounded like love. In another time, another world, perhaps he would have believed such a thing to be possible. He knew that a man like him could find love, but so quickly? So fiercely? The gods intended things to happen with patience and dedication, not after a strange meeting in the woods that ended with tears.

Yet, why did he feel so trapped in the memory of Roslyn's smile if the gods hadn't planned it this way?

"I don't know, Richard. I'm just distracted. I can't wait to see her again." James gave a low chuckle. "For her beauty and her voice, and most of all her enchanting spirit."

He was counting down the minutes until he found himself in her presence once more.[/fieldbox]
[fieldbox=Iridessa Lenne; The Friendly Fairy, pink, solid, 0, trebuchet ms]Never before had Roslyn received a gift since the death of her loving father, not even a letter in the mail from distant family inquiring to her well-being. No one remembered an orphan servant girl who spent her days mending fires and feeding pigs. This increased Iridessa's suspicion over the package and what it could possibly contain, but since Roslyn herself was enormously excited, the fairy couldn't help but encourage her. Perhaps a little gift was what she needed to remain happy that day. Maybe it was a sign from the gods that everything would be alright, that whoever was kind enough to offer a present signified the passing of trials and the blessing of positivity on the horizon. Regardless, Iri smiled for her friend was smiling, and that was enough for her.

I'm glad she's excited. She needs more joy in her life.

When Roslyn finally convinced herself to open the parcel, both fairy and human let out a gasp of adoration. A hair comb of diamonds and silver, worth more than Roslyn herself, rested in a velvet box with a little note of flattery. Iri flew forward to investigate, landing on the edge of the box and leaning over to inspect one of the gems for authenticity.

"Wow, it's real!" she exclaimed after further examination. "I mean, the diamonds! And the silver! It's all real!" Iri glanced up to her friend and gave a great laugh. "You didn't tell me your forest friend was a rich man, Rosie! That's incredible! Now you don't have a choice but to tell me all about it. Maybe he can buy you a nice cabin in the woods and get you out of this place, that'd be better than a hair comb I think. But I still gotta hear what he was like! Tell, tell."

Fluttering her wings, Iridessa picked up the diamond comb and flew up towards Roslyn's head, slipping the great thing into blonde curls and smiling at the way the jewels sparkled in the sunlight seeping in from the window. She then sat on the wooden cornerpost of Roslyn's bed, crossing her tiny ankles and folding her hands in her lap.

"Tell me the story, Rosie, and then we should pick out what you're gonna wear on your date!"[/fieldbox]

 

[Krul]

[fieldbox=Ser Richard Grant; The Faithful Friend, #800000, solid, 0, book antiqua]Mentally, Richard tried to visualize the mysterious girl who evidently had stolen his friend's heart. For the briefest of seconds, he played with the idea of witchcraft - was he victim to a spell? Not speaking out of free will and mind? At least it would explain this very sudden change of heart. Doubt clouded his being, but he kept silent about it. James's safety remained his top priority, and protect him he would. All kinds of tales had been told to him in the past, tales of evil monsters, envy which was mighty enough to lead to the demise of several kingdoms; and tales of power hungry witches. It was a silly idea, indeed, but one he was bound to consider.

He would need to meet the girl himself, period.

"I believe you. But I must insist that you still remain careful around that girl, Your Majesty. You barely know her. I'm saying this with your well-being in mind, not to harm your joyous spirit."

Richard was an honest man, one who didn't sugercoat his opinion if it was required, no matter the case. A quality, which probably added to his treasured role as the king's advisor. It proved to be useful during many occasions, one example being the most recent war. He prided himself with his sharp perception and past expierences regarding all kinds of people. A rough and big hand landed on James's shoulder in a reassuring manner.

"Nevertheless, I'm delighted to hear that your adventurous escape was not for naught. I'm not sure as to whether you are aware of it, but it's been a while since I got to see you so... happy? Aye. Perhaps, you should invite her to the castle at some point, my friend."[/fieldbox]

[fieldbox=Roslyn Fay; The Suffering Servant, #33cccc, solid, 0, book antiqua]Completely awe-struck - this was probably an accurate way to describe Roslyn's current disposition. There she sat, her body frozen and denying her any kind of movement, her gaze resting on the beautiful hair comb. Why? For what reason had this gift been given to her? What had she done to deserve it? Confusion spoiled her jaunty spirit for a moment, although it wasn't able to banish the excitement which was brimming within her eyes. Pictures of James's face flooded her mind, as well as small fragments of their short but fateful encounter. She remembered that day's events fondly. She never really got to figure out who James was, where he came from, or what he pursued. Calloused but tender fingers swept over the brilliantly shining diamonds. Rich? Never had she wasted a single second wondering about his financial standing.

Further thoughts were disregarded as Iridessa added the hair comb to her hair. Quickly, Roslyn got up from the spot on her bed and hurried over towards the old wardrobe of her mother, looking at her reflection in the mirror which was attached to the left door of the wardrobe. The sight which greeted her was almost of pitiful essence: A girl, whose face was sooted with ash and dirt, as well as her dress, thus her hair was a mess. Yet in the midst of all that, there twinkled a beautiful butterfly in all its glory. The blonde bit on her bottom lip in order to prevent herself from smiling like an idiot. She would treasure this gift.

Finally, Roslyn distanced herself from the mirror and sat down on the same spot on her bed again, this time raising her feet on top of the mattress so that she was able to stretch her tired legs. Her voice carried an umbrage of amusement as she regarded the friendly fairy and said, "Oh, the very first moments of our encounter were far from romantic." She chuckled. "In fact, as soon as you disappeared, I started to panic and-- and I screamed at him in such an unmannerly way." Roslyn laughed some more and rolled herself on her belly, her head now resting in her palms, her calves dangling in the air. "But instead of declaring me as crazy, he was such a gentleman. His name is James. He accompanied me to father's grave, and kept me company. Apparently, they were acquaintances and they knew each other! Can you believe that?" She tilted her head slightly to the side, and her expression took on a dreamy look. "He had such beautiful eyes, Iri. Eyes the color of the ocean, and I was more than willing to drown in them." A sigh. "He was kind. Charming. Compassionate. He comforted me despite the fact that my face was covered in tears and snot. He seemed almost like a prince to me." The gods knew, Roslyn adored tales of brave princes. If she were ever to meet one, which seemed like such an impossible thing to happen though, she would expect him to be like James.

She buried her face into the mattress with a smile on her lips. Why was she feeling so giddy and bashful? After all, it wasn't the first time that she had seen a handsome man. What was different this time? Alone being in the knowledge that they would soon meet again, filled her with happiness.

Suddenly, she sat up straight and stared at Iridessa with widened eyes. "Did you say date back then? I never-- A date?" The girl jumped down from her bed and walked towards the wardrobe once more, but stopped in her tracks mid-way to look at Iri. She appeared so lost in that moment, as well as panicked. James believed her to be a noble merchant's daughter, when in reality she had become nothing more but a slave. "What does one wear to a date?"[/fieldbox]

 

[moffnat]

[fieldbox=King James of Prospyr; The King of Kindness, #e0c04c, solid, 0, georgia]Happiness was a queer thing indeed. When Richard mentioned its merits, it left the king thinking about the many crushing weights on his young shoulders, the pressure to keep the kingdom safe and happy. Yet he himself could not live without happiness, would not. His father had told him that a life without love was no life at all, yet it was one so many monarchs were forced to live, tossed into arranged marriages for advantage that made the strongest of men miserable and the loveliest of women yearn for lower birth. True, it was not impossible for love to kindle over time, but James had never desired that path, never wanted it. Richard knew that and had for many years. It was partly why the king was so pleased to hear that his friend could see the happiness in his face at the mere mention of Roslyn Fay, the thought of her song and her smile.

Maybe now he will know that I am serious about pursuing her.

"You'll meet her soon, I'd expect," James said with a pleasant grin towards his dear friend. "I'll invite her to the ball in a fortnight. You'll see her then. Maybe I'll have an engagement to announce at that point. Hah, wouldn't my mother just faint..."

Though, that is the same ball where I am to meet the Princess Celia, he thought with a sudden frown. The woman Mother intends for me to marry, should she have a say. He sighed, distraught, pushing himself off from the rail and giving his sword a few swings through the air. James detested the thought of marrying before given the chance to find love, and it was becoming even more difficult now that he saw Roslyn's face whenever he pictured his future queen.

"Ah. Anyway, enough of that. You're rusty with the blade and I am as well, and neither of us have any chance at wooing a woman with arms like twigs, yeah?" He chuckled and faced his opponent. "Draw your sword, Ser Grant, and face your king with dignity. We can speak of women later when the work is done and dinner is served."[/fieldbox]
[fieldbox=Iridessa Lenne; The Friendly Fairy, pink, solid, 0, trebuchet ms]She's so happy, Iri thought with a bright beam. I hope this stranger is really all he claims to be. She deserves a nice man to take care of her, just like Mr. Fay wanted.

Roslyn had been so giddy at the idea of a picnic date, that Iridessa herself was infected by the joy. She fluttered her wings and flew over to the wardrobe in question, slipping through the fabric and delving into the back of the great wooden box of her mother's old dresses, elegant in make and design. "Let's see," the fairy called, voice muffled from the back, hardly heard by the servant girl outside. "He was kind and compassionate, you say? And rich? And handsome and all those other things, too? If you're going on a picnic, Rosie, you'll want something comfortable. Not something too warm but not too cold either, something flirty but not suggestive. You gotta look perfect to snatch this guy!" She rummaged through cloth and silk, considering her options with great care before emerging from the wardrobe once again. Her periwinkle hair was ruffled from the fabric and her little dress askew.

Could that girl have any more dresses? It's a good thing her step-mother doesn't know about them, they could sell for some pretty good coin.

"I think I have an idea, but I wanna surprise you. The date is a few days off still, yeah? You HAVE to wear that butterfly comb too, he'll be flattered that you did." Iri gave it a little adjustment in Roslyn's golden curls and giggled happily. "Come on, though. The sun's about to go down and you're gonna need all the beauty sleep you can get before your big weekend! Wanna play a game of chess before you hit the hay? I think it's my turn to be the white side too, so I'm totally gonna win."

The miniature friend buzzed off to find the board and pieces, thinking all the while that this mysterious James could be all that Roslyn had prayed for and more.

Oh, I hope this is all right.[/fieldbox]

 

[Krul]

CHAPTER III: THE MEADOW
APRIL 18th, YEAR 1687 CE​

[fieldbox=Roslyn Fay; The Suffering Servant, #33cccc, solid, 0, book antiqua]"Are you done?", Roslyn asked, her voice brimming with impatience and excitement. "When will you be done?"

When Iridessa told her to remain still for a few seconds longer, the servant girl let out a disappointed huff. Almost one hour passed ever since the small fairy had started to work her magnificent magic on her. The most exciting part about it? It was the fact that she was denied to look into any kind of mirror until her getup for the day was complete thus perfect. So far, she was already wearing a breathtaking gown of the smoothest fabric. It was easy to walk in, felt incredible on her skin and yet it was also flirty - a dress just like Iridessa had promised to her. Truth to be told, she felt a little frightened however. Questions like: What if I look like a fool? Does this appearance suit me? What if he won't like it? Am I the only one who considers this a date? What if he already has a girl who he cherishes? - they bothered her. Unlike upon their first encounter, she longed to show him another side to her person. One, which was less sad and reminded her more of the girl she once had been forced to leave behind, a girl, who existed long before the arrival of one Cordelia Whitefell yet died alongside her dearest father's side. Surprisingly enough, that very girl came to surface once more when Iridessa made a final touch up to her hair - the butterfly.

"Let me take a look, good fairy!", the young Fay snapped out of the thoughts that caused her discomfort immediately. Together they walked toward the mirror in her small attic room. A piece of cloth covered it, in case Roslyn tried to be sneaky and take a glimpse at herself while the lilac fairy worked on making her look like a lady. As soon as it got removed and she was finally able to take a proper look at her reflection, she caught her breath and studied herself with curiosity. Her soft locks were brushed until they shone like molten gold and tied up into an elegant yet soft knot. The dress was indeed lovely, although in fact so much more than what Iridessa had promised to her, she noted. She had fretted over matching jewelry for a while too, but in the end decided against it, preferring to indulge in simplicity. In that very moment it seemed as though Roslyn The Servant had been nothing but a dark shadow, and in her stead, a darling maiden stood. I can feel my confidence return. What beautiful magic. But was it really the magic? Or did she simply fail to see her own beauty?

By the time that the pair of human and fairy arrived at the agreed meeting spot, it was around early evening. The day was warm and cloudless, the sky a deep blue. When the wind blew, she could smell the scents of various flowers, as well as grass and earth. It comforted her somehow. Next to her, the statue of one of the many nameless gods towered over her and hid her in its small shadow. It was an old statue, made of dark rock. It portrayed the guardian of the Glen River, a god in the shape of a beautiful nymph. A legend hid within the mystery of the nymph which both Roslyn and Iridessa enjoyed to talk about whenever they happened to walk by.

Apparently, the nymph had been a creature of darkness who enjoyed it to cause havoc once. Precious sources of water got poisoned by her, the air polluted with hatred. Like this, she continued for a while until the day she met a young man named Glen. It was said that Glen had been a man of valor and that he owned a good-natured heart. Unlike many before him, he wasn't afraid of the unruly goddess. He challenged her with his clever tongue, never willing to allow her to get his spirits down. In return, she was fascinated by him as she had never met someone who defied her as strongly as he did, a mere human at that. At first, she viewed him as an object of entertainment. Every day, she found him sitting on the same spot in front of the river which she had poisoned. Quickly, their harsh banter turned into something more playful. Casual chatting followed, and at some point, pensive conversations. She learned to enjoy his kindred personality, he her fiery one. Love was the result, as well as a healthy conscience on her part. Yet, at the peak of their relationship, Glen died. The reason? Poison. In fact, it stemmed from the river which the nymph had poisoned. Terrible guilt haunted her upon realizing what she had done. From then on, she vowed to change for the better, keeping the things that Glen had taught her about life and humans close to her heart. The poison disappeared and got replaced by the freshest and purest water - even now. Accordingly, so that her lover would forever be remembered, the river was thus named Glen River and the people built a statue in order to honor their story.

He died. Roslyn thought as she stood leaned against the nymph. But the time they had spent together must have been precious. What is it? This love. To her, it was an alien concept. A concept, which she was more than willing to expierence for herself. The next thought that followed made her blush.

Maybe with James.[/fieldbox]