Caldomaa

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It was a beautiful day in Caldomaa, the sun was shining in the middle of the sky. It was the first day of summer, and it couldn’t be a more perfect day. The servants were preparing for the grand feast the royals were hosting for their guests. Scullery maids were cleaning the great hall from top to bottom, wail the male servants hung garlands of laurel leaves which were being tied together by the maidens of the castle, under a large oak tree on the grounds.

Princess Regan was sitting by the lake with her dolls all dressed in fine clothes, sitting at a small wooden table used for child's play. "Would you like some more tea, Sir Reginald?" she asked one of her dolls, and poured the good doll a beverage.

"Oh but of course, Lady Snugglebut" she said as she poured "tea" into another glass.

"and you Lady Fluffybottom?" She looked to the third doll, and smiled

"Are you sure? very well" then sat and poured herself a cup of "Tea".

The Gentlemen of the court awaited on the training grounds, for the jousting later that day. some gambling before the start, others preparing to be apart of the fun. Wail that was going on, King Sebastian found himself posing for a portrait, he was dressed in traditional Kaarveilian gnarb. A Hide Kilt, a tartan with a large Lions head on his head.

"Make sure you capture my warrior sprite." The King said to the Painter, who shrugged and urged him not to move. Sebastian tried, all the while her leg shot with pain.

Matilda was in a blissful state of happiness, she lay resting in the castle gardens, her eyes closed as the warm sun beamed upon her creamy palate, she had droned out the noise of the bustling castle, instead focussing on the soft songs of the birds, the trickle of the stream and light rustling of the leafs, it was on days like these that the Princess of Caldomaa truly felt at one with nature. She made a very pretty picture that day; if only an artist had been present it would have made the most stunning portrait. The setting was idyllic, Caldomaa’s green rolling hills of in the background, the palace centred, white wash walls towering into the pastel blue sky and then came the muse, with her raven curled hair sprawled around her like the darkness crowded the moon, the sun creating a unworldly glow of her skin, the small bouquet of wild daisy’s she had picked resting on her stomach as her small hands rested atop of them; she truly made the most breathtaking sight.

The princess could have stayed there for an eternity, but alas there was work to be done, or rather work she should be helping her mother oversee; at this current time Caldomaa was a hive of activity, ever since the King and Queen had announced this competition there had hardly been a moment for one to catch their breath, dances, feasts, jousts, hunts, everything that could possibly be happening, was happening. Mattie was a sociable girl, she liked to have a good time and enjoy herself, dancing, drinking and chatting gaily were all things that entertained her; however she had found herself wishing that the guests would leave and her family could get back to normal.

Normal…nothing would be normal after this, either she or one of her sisters would be married and their husband would then be named heir to the throne. It was the only way her father could ensure a successor, since her mother was too weak to have any more children. Opening her eyes, Mattie squinted her almond shape jewels, letting herself adjust to the bright sunshine, once she had done so, she pushed herself up from the grass, smoothing out the creases in her gown before idly making her way back towards the palace.

The corridors were alive with activity; she swerved her way in and out of servants until she reached her father quarters, the guards immediately let her enter, the doors closed behind her. Surveying the room she saw her father posing for a new portrait, smiling to herself, Mattie approached “you are looking most gallant and fierce, father” she spoke gently, placing an affectionate kiss on his cheek. Spotting her little sister, Regan sat at a small wooden table play with her dolls, wandering over she placed a loving kiss atop of young girls head “good morning, my little darling” she cooed affectionately “I have brought you some flowers for your tea party” Mattie beamed displaying the bouquet of wild daisies to her youngest sister.

Princess Aleiia hummed softly as she walked through the vast garden of her home. She spun and danced as the tall soft grass brushed against her soft bronze skin. She giggled at the tickle. She skipped through the field of flowers.

Aleiia always felt more comfortable amongst the flora. She didn't understand people, She supposed they were alot like plants. All different, varing color and sizes and temperment. Some were like the carnivorous ones, and sneaky and violent, others were like herbs, healing and refreshing. Only difference was, Aleiia could tell what plants were dangerous and what weren't. The same can't be said about people.

It was why she was so nervous about this contest. She wasn't good with people, unless they were childern. Men, she was especially nervous around. She would stammer and babbling like an idiot half of the time and the other time, she had nothing to say. Now they'd be contesting for her hand. "Oh dear." She sighed as she walked toward a large willow tree. She climbed up the tree's large thick branch and rested there. "Great Gaia. Please guide my heart in the right direction. Allow me to make the right decision." She prayed as she looked up at the sky through the tree's canopy.

It was then she heard footsteps approaching, so she sat up, her long gown draping over the tree's branch.

Lady Samara Mason

From the archery range, Samara had a decent view of the tumultuous preparation for the jousting tourney; she could see men of varied age and stature cavorting about, gambling, drinking, and gloating of the accomplishments that were worthy, doubtlessly, to be sung of for years to come. Samara gave a light giggle, running her oiling rag over her bow methodically without really paying much attention. Her eyes instead flitted about in wonder at the beautiful chaos. When she was a child, she had seen the village people prepare for small celebrations, such as the birth of a princess. There would be music, and dancing, Samara recalled, laying down her rag and inspecting her work. Afterwards, a meager feast would be held, and the people would gather round a great bonfire and tell tales of the king's heroics. This was remarkably different. The clamor of armor could be heard even from the archery range; off in the kitchens a great feast was being prepared. Roasted meats, candied vegetables, fresh fruits, sweet desserts embellished with sugar. Samara would be hard pressed to remember her finishing school manners tonight. She gave a very unladylike snort, then froze, her hand flying to cover her mouth. The young lady turned about herself, making sure no one saw her lapse in behavior.

Deciding she was alone, Samara removed her hand. The last thing she needed at the moment was a group of snooty nobles spreading gossip of the common-born lady acting like a pig and shooting arrows. Wearing breeches with her skirts tied up, no less. Despite herself, Samara snorted again before erupting into giggles. Oh, let them talk, she thought to herself, wrapping her bow about her leg and bending to string it, her wiry muscles enjoying the exertion. Besides, the young lady intoned silently as she plucked an arrow from her quiver, no one would be here when there is so much more to see, especially the other Ladies. No, there were too many handsome young men to spy upon.

Nocking the arrow, Samara took her stance and righted the bow, pulling back the string. Her quick eyes locked upon the straw target block. Exhaling, Samara let the arrow fly in it's straight, sure path. Her lips twitched upward as it struck dead center.
Expelling the thoughts of the competition from mind, Samara pulled another arrow from her quiver, content to enjoy her moment of solitude before she had to rejoin the fray and play the part of a noble.

The young knight rested above the rough surface of the barstool. His oily elbows piled upon the ale stained tabled. His left hand cupped around his stubbly cheek as the other wrapped around the handle of the mug. He tongue dipped into the cheap flavor the wine. It was bitter, a sensation you would except from poorly brewed beverages as such. There was something about that flavor that drew him to desire it. Oh yes, it was for the liquid was inexpensive- easy to the pocket only costing a few coins.

“I am going to miss this life once I marry some princess,” he announce, however he did not figure in himself if he was sarcastic or not. Of course he is going to feel some longing for his old life he has known all his life- the hardscrabble one, much labor but few coin. But imagine the riches and fortunes he will achieve as such high authority.

“Aw don’t say that, lad. Ye’r have been dreaming all your life of thy coin of the royalties,” one greasy man by the name of ‘Pete’ confessed as he delivered to Terrowin a smirk.

Not a strain of hair grew on the oily scalp of Pete however a massive raven black beard poured down until it ceased at his chest. Pete wore not a shirt to cover his hairy torso, he claims wearing a shirt ‘cages your man hair.’ But everyone knows he is too lazy to enter himself into a shirt. He was chubby man with a swollen belly and height lesser than the average human. One blind eye remain without color- white; the other a dirt brown color. He wore woolen patched baggy trouser. And for shoes he concealed his feet in none, though you eventually you adapt to the stench to his toes.

Pete was a man no one in the villages nor cities of Caldomaa would even know existed. Pete often the beer devourer, though no one has every found him drunk perhaps because they have already passed out drinking themselves. He was a fellow which Terrowin encounter after the imprisonment of the enemy forces. He was the man which laid a friendly hand to bring Terrowin back to the academy to be cured of his wounds.

“Agreed, but as my duties as a knight I carry the burdens of citizens on my shoulders. I grasp my sword in the frontlines of battle, without any hesitant thought I sacrifice myself. And I called into a competition, where I must hold the hand of a woman in marriage. I am given an opportunity many soldiers are not. I must be the slave to my woman, obeying her every wish as long as it does not hurt her, me, or any good people. A marriage is a brand mark the two must walk together being identified as one,” Terrowin informed his friend before the two busted in laughter as if those words were just jokes.

“I shall never as long as I live neglect laughter of your jesting.”

Terrowin figured that he was jesting just as Pete mentioned. Terrowin believed not in love, he found it as much a joke as religion. Just another long for a being, slavery even.

“Farewell now, friend.”

Terrowin rose from the seat as he rotated his arms and neck stretching. He limped out of the pub and to his horse. The young knight was still sore from what torture he experienced. He personally had to snap his arm back in place. He toiled not to squeal like a pig to the slaughter; however he cannot control the future. After managing the arm back in place two of the soldiers continued to fix his pinkie finger, ring finger, and left ankle. His ribs are still healing for bandages circle around his stomach tightly. The left eye tinted black, soon to heal fully. Numerous scars and wounds mounted on his skin from the lashing he endured captured. He wished not for any athletics in the competition, because it would be embarrassing for him to excuse himself.

He attempted to climb upon the horse however it shook and stagger, forcing Terrowin to the ground groaning. The horse was rather new for Terrowin’s original horse, “Gorim” was defeated too in battle, in death.

“Please don’t do this to me,” he whispered to the horse as he petted it.
“Please..”

He found it not pathetic to speak to a horse, what else was he suppose to do to it? Make it furious and attack him? After he communicate to it, the horse acted much more calm. He then made his way to the royal castle.

Genevieve, unlike the rest of the kingdom, wasn't spending her time getting ready for the grand feast they were hosting for their guests. Instead the young woman was nestle up in the corner of her room, pillows placed under herself and around her back as she leaned her back into the cushioned walls. In her lap, as usual, was a book, that she had only gotten a little of the way in since the time she started reading it earlier to day. The princess let out a soft sigh, she could hear the busy sounds of servants getting things ready for the feast. It only reminded her that she too, needed to get ready. She protested it though, procrastinating to do such by putting it off later and later. Well later had been coming up very soon as the minutes passed by her. It was either she got ready now, or have her parents upset at her for not doing as she needed.

With a heavy sigh, she placed the book down upon the floor and stood up. Adjusting herself slightly as to not fall back down. After she was steady, she leaned over and picked the book from off of the floor. Her soft hand grazed over the area that was set on the floor, dusting any dirt from off of it just in case. Genevieve slowly walked over to a table that sat beside her bed and placed to book upon it. Now she was ready to get.. well, ready that is. First she needed to change into something more suited for a feast.

Moments later, she opened the door to her room, peering from the corner to see whom was along the corridor. From what she could plainly see, there was no one. The young girl finally walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. The gown was on of her more elegant looking ones, the kind you would wear to this sort of gathering. She straightened her posture and walked down the long corridor, head held high as any one of nobility should walk.

She was not ready for what was to come in the days ahead, but as her father's wishes she were to go through with it. Speaking of her father, she seemed to walk passed the room he was getting his portrait painted. He looked so proud and knightly, though she couldn't help but to let out just the slightest giggle and wander back to peer in.

Benedict had been quietly surveying the grounds that surrounded the castle since his mother had given him leave. According to her, he would finally meet her family at the feast properly and until then he should make himself scarce. Which was something the young man was quite use to, he'd always been a boy who hid in the shadows or around corners doing his best to keep out of sight. Of course that might have had something to do with his curious nature. it was quite easy to learn all sorts of things when no one thought you were there.

With a smile slowly overtaking his usually serious face, Benedict let the thoughts of his childhood swirl away from him. There would no longer be any more time for childish flights of fancy, but of course he'd already known that. Before his mother had told him of her plan he'd been set to join the priesthood. The seminary had already accepted him and Benedict had thought that giving his life to serve God would be the only way he could make up for his sorely lacking parentage. Yet apparently there was another way, much more difficult but with much greater reward.

As he slowly made his way through the field of flowers, his thin hands outreached to caress a blossom as he passed them by, he took note of a strange movement in a willow tree. With curiosity taking hold, he brushed his dark brown hair out of his eyes and squinted against the light and moved towards the tree. Slipping through the long trailing branches that gave the tree it's name he spun slowly around until he saw the girl perched on a thick, heavy limb.

For a moment he was struck silent, and for a split second he insanely thought he'd found a tree nymph. With a slow shake of his head he dismissed the thought and instead a timid smile crossed his pale face, his hazel eyes gazing upwards at the ethereal figure.
"I'm sorry, My lady. I must've intruded upon you, if you are indeed real and not some figment of my overactive imagination. My name is Benedict, my apologies if I've startled you. I must say I might be a bit lost." The tall, thin youth finished apologetically with a bow towards the girl

Sebastian stood perfectly still as his daughter Matilda entered the room. At first the King hadn’t noticed her to his disgrace. He was far more interested in remaining still for the painter. This was the fourth attempt this week, in capturing Sebastian’s warrior’s stance, and he hardly wanted to wait around a fifth time for him to try again.

“You are looking most gallant and fierce, father” he herd his daughter’s voice from behind him, and smiled gently. “If only they could make this go much faster.” He said thinking of some ‘magic’ that would paint an image onto a canvas. “Ridicules” he chuckled, and without another word Matilda was had left with just a kiss on the cheek.

As she left, Sebastian got back to his concentration, the painter didn’t squirm or anything at his disconnection, which confused the king a bit. He looked at the man behind the canvas, as he was supposed to. Sebastian noticed that pale skinny man’s nervousness and he could not help but wonders if the man was more worried of him as a King or a man.
He heard a chuckle at the door, and his smile grew. He knew strength of it was his daughter Genevieve, his eyes now looking at the mirror that reflected the door behind him.

“Don’t just stand there at the door Gen.” he said to his daughter his posture unmoved. “Come in.”



Regan looked up at her big sister and smiled, “Thank you Mattie!” she said and took the flowers, “There so pretty!” she exclaimed and smelled them. Her face turned sour and looked to one of the Dolls. “Sir Reginald!” she gasped, “That’s mean!” A wise man would think she was talking to the doll, however if you were a member of the royal family you knew Sir Reginald was also the name little Regan gave her imaginary friend. So to tell the difference of whom she was talking to was rather hard.

“I’m sorry Mattie” she said looking to her sisters. “I’m sorry I have such a RUDE friend.” She pouted.

Aleiia smiled at the young man that approached her. "I'm sorry, My lady. I must've intruded upon you. If you are indeed real and not a figment of my overactive imagination," Aleiia giggled. She turned to the young man, her legs hanging over the branch, swinging to and fro. "My name is Benedict, my apologies if I've startled you,I must say I'm a bit lost." He said with a bow. She gingerly slipped out of the tree with a giggle as he spoke. "I am quite real, Sir Benedict. I am Princess Aleiia Gonriel of Caldoora." She said with a bow of her own. She straightened herself and held out her hand to him. "We aren't far from the palace. I could use an escort." She said with a soft smile.

(Sorry it's so short, My battery's about to die!)

Desmond arrived at the castle grounds by horse, accompanied by some of his court and a few servants. They were greeted at the gates by two guards, who directed them over where they could put their horses. Desmond dismounted his horse, Samson, and stepped aside. Quickly one of his servants did the same, and lead his own horse and his lord's to the stables with the others. He surveyed the area before choosing his next move, admiring the castle and the lovely gardens. He then spoke to a guard, "Could you find someone to escort me to the king? I do wish to say hello." the guard nodded, "Of course, Sir." he answered, and called over a passing servant. He whispered to the man about Desmond's royal status, and the servant quickly greeted him and brought him in the direction of the training grounds.

The walk over was lovely, he passed many gorgeous trees and flowers. The grounds were gorgeously kept, and the beautiful day made it even more wonderful. The sun shone brightly, and a soft breeze brushed by. The ride north to the kingdom itself was a nice one as well. It only took two days, and he was pleased that the day of arrival was such perfect weather. They left before day break, and by night they found a place to rest. They'd stopped at a relatives house in between the two kingdoms to stay for the night, and left again after an early breakfast. Arriving in Caldomaa at about midday was pretty good time, only the fastest horses could get there in that time.

He'd reached the training grounds soon enough, the servant pointing out various icons on the way, explaining their use to the family. He observed the men talking and getting ready for the jousting events, and he himself found interest in the start of the games. He was an athletic man, not that he'd be in this competition. He enjoyed sports like many boys did, and looked forward to watching later that day. The decoration for the events were being set up as well, the whole area was festooned with the land's colors of pride. Along with many coats of arms, including Desmond's own, probably to make him feel welcome. He smiled at this, and spoke to the servant. "What lovely preparations! But the banner is lopsided.. You should get someone to fix that immediately.." he trailed off for a moment, his eyes fixated on the welcoming banner. His right hand rested stroking his small beard, somewhat in a daze. The servant had a moment of panic, as he quickly motioned one of the organizers to fix the problem. A couple other helpers squirmed about and began to straighten it. Desmond looked pleased, and continued to speak. "I do believe Sebastian wants everything to be perfect, naturally." He paused again, then raised both of his hands in somewhat of a half-shrugging motion, "To the king, yes?"

The servant brought him into the castle, and down a few corridors before they arrived in a large parlor, where the king seemed to be just finishing a portrait. They stood in the doorway, a young girl who must've been the kings daughter stood nearby, and the king stood in the middle of the room beside the painter. The servant who escorted him introduced him, "Your highness, Prince Desmond of Galirel has arrived to greet you." With that he stepped aside, and backed out the door, leaving Desmond to enter. The young girl curtsied, and he bowed in return with a charming smile. He turned to the king, and his smile widened.

"Sebastian!" he beamed, walking over with open arms. "It's been far too long," he confessed, "I apologize for not visiting more often." King Sebastian was old friends with both of Desmond's parents, and particularly close with his father, who were childhood friends. As a kid himself, Desmond used to visit the castle often, and had always referred to Sebastian as his uncle, though they weren't related by blood. "Both of my parents send their blessings to you and your lovely wife." he assured, and embraced the familiar man. "Everything is looking wonderful by the way, I'm looking forward to watching the events." he admitted.

"I'm sorry sir, your swan needs to be kept under supervision," Nikolas had to stifle an arrogant smirk as he said that. He could feel his man beside him rolling his eyes from under his full helm. Caldomaa never lacked substance, and today was no different.

He was called in by Seymour, one of his senior guards about a disturbance in one of the nearby noble estates eloquently (and ironically) called "Swan's Peace". Seymour couldn't exactly explain the situation in a professional manner, and it took just as much as effort on both his and Nikolas' part from dismissing the case as a mere hoax. Needless to say a week later, one of the castle cleric's was sent to Swan's Peace after reports of a brutal maiming by a white feathered sky demon. Turns out it was a swan. Turns out it wasn't a hoax. Nikolas scratched his chin, pondering the awkwardness of it all.

"Ye're thas' swans' been up'n around'd here fer ever'n n its' been me mate fer ever'n, eh?" the estates gardener -- the perpetrator barraged Nikolas with angry talk. The Lysander man did his best to control the situation.

"I understand that sir but it doesn't change the fact that your swan is hardly domestic, you do realize it pecked out the eye of Ser Joffin? You either cooperate with me or deal with Ser Joffin, and I assure you he is not in the slightest as understanding as I am,"

Nikolas felt sad for the man. Swan's Peace was so devoid of kindness to the man that he found resolution in a swan -- albeit a feral one. He wondered if all noble houses were like that, a segregation of classes that forced two different parties so far apart that man had to find peace in something other than a fellow human, like a swan, or a beast. What a frighteningly liberating idea. Reality hit Nikolas like a brick. The gardener started sobbing.

"I know'n that's ser, I just dun want'n nobody to hurt'n my swan mate," he rubbed his sad eyes. This old man truly did find comfort in this animal. Nikolas could respect that.

"Here's what I'll do for you, okay?" Nikolas softened his voice, consoling the old man, "I know somebody in the castle, one with a princess' touch. She's very good with animals. I'll take your swan to her, maybe she can calm it down. If it calms down I'll send it back to you straight away,"

The old man's eyes lit up, "You'were'd do that'm for me?" his voice was shaky. He was obviously not used to such kindness by his authority figures.

"By my honor," Nikolas said with a genuine smile.

The old man smiled -- well, did whatever he could do with a mouth lacking any teeth. He thrust out, grabbing Nikolas and embracing him in a squeezing hug. The guard beside Nikolas was surprised by this act and instinctively went for his sword. After he realized what was happening the guard could only grin. Nikolas patted the old man on the back.

"Yeah, you're welcome," he said.

In truth, Nikolas had underlying selfish reasons. Half truth half deceit -- what was the problem? He did know somebody good with these things, and she did have a princess' touch. Nikolas had his eye on her for awhile now, of course his duties kept him from making anything substantial from the thought. They never had downtime together either, so any chance he could he grabbed at the chance to talk with her. Sebastien was an important man, and when you're charged with protecting an important man wooing his daughter isn't exactly high on the to-do list.

Nikolas made his way back to the castle, the swan in a cage mounted on the butt of his horse. The thing was flapping around, sending feathers twirling here and there. Nonetheless, Nikolas continued through the streets of the great city nonchalantly. It was a comical sight at best and Nikolas had his fair share of confused looks. Soon enough he arrived at the barracks, he grabbed aside Ser Gregoir, the most senior of his men.

"Gregoir, do find princess Matilda, we have a swan problem,"

Gregoir, the old seasoned soldier he was nodded, "This got anythin' to do with that fuckin' competition the king's got goin' on?"

Gregoir swore a lot but he never meant anything bad by such, he just. . . liked to swear. Nikolas shrugged.

"I don't exactly concern myself with those things Gregoir, you know me better than that,"


"Aye sir, jus' wonderin'. I trust you, you know that? Figure I keep an eye out on you is all. Least I could do, eh?" Gregoir grinned.

"Of course, ser," Nikolas nodded. He was touched by the old soldier's loyalty. Truth be told, he had the loyalty of everybody in arms in the castle, as well as the army. They would do as much for him as much as he would for them. Such were how things always was, and will remain.

***

Gregoir set out straight away. He was a man forged by war, forty years in the thick of battle. A beaten black patch covered his left eye, and his armor was worn to a blunt weathering normal for veteran warriors. The change in the castle was a welcome one, but he did miss the thrill of charging into battle with a man to your left and to your right. He had followed Nikolas after the boys appointment to Captain of the Guard, way back from the days when they were both in the infamous regiment the Crimson Riders. Needless to say those days were past them. It was only here, and it was only now.

Eventually Gregoir found Mattie. She was located with Sebastien and his other offspring. Of course, they seemed busy, so he stood only a distance away, waiting to be addressed like the good soldier he was.

Desdemona sat in the chair beside her fire, it was not at all cold either in her room but outside, summer was well and truly on the way, however, the Queen seemed to have a chill in her bones that just wouldn’t disappear. It was true that her pregnancy and birth with Regan had taken a very drastic toll on her body, she had nearly died that night, the blood loss had been great, the pain excruciating but the goddess had pulled her through; she had stared death in the eyes but muttered, not today. Mona had gained a precious daughter that evening but also lost the intimacy with her husband and the fierce strength she once had, still Regan had been worth it.

Her precious little jewel, just as beautiful, caring and loving as her other daughters, Mona couldn’t have been more proud of all her children. Still clad in her nightgown, Mona closed the book she had been reading, placing it lightly in her lap, she had re-read the same page for what had seemed like hours but yet the words did not register. The competition filled too many of her thoughts, she frowned at that words, if she had her way there would not be a competition for her daughters hands, it felt far too impersonal and business-like, they should be able to marry for love, like herself and Seb had, that is what she truly desired. Unfortunately there was also a Kingdom to think about and her husband was right with one thing, they could not divide it.

“Mira” The Queen lightly called from her chair, pushing herself up with all the strength she could muster, although her legs still shook slightly “Mira” she called her ladies-maid once again, as much as she would love to sit in that chair all day, there was work to be done. Her Maid entered quickly, closing the door lightly as she rushed over to her mistress, concern written across her face. Mira had been the only Mona had told about the sudden drastic turn in her health, as much as she wanted to pretend that she could still get by just fine, she couldn’t. “Your grace, you should have waited for me” Mira scolded lightly as she guided the Queen over to her bed, helping her sit down.

“I am fine” Mona replied softly, offering her loyal and long suffering maid a gentle smile.

Walking back over, Mira offered the Queen a glass filled with a medicine which would restore some energy for the Queen, Mona quickly drank it, a sour expression spreading across her pretty features, it may taste vile but at least it worked.

Once dressed and revived the Queen left her chambers, walking to find her family.

Matilda gasped in mock horror, crouching down to eye level with her baby sister “and just what did Mr Reginald say, my dear sister?” she asked casting a quick glance to the empty chair, which held her sisters imaginary friend. Many around the castle had told the royal family to not indulge Princess Regan’s imaginary friend, they said it would cause rumours and make her a social outcast. Mattie did not believe this, she felt rather sorry for her little sister, it couldn’t be easy being the only eight year old around and when your sisters were so much older and had their own duties to attend to it was no wonder she had turned to her imagination.

Although it did make her feel a little bit guilty for not spending much time with her little sister, still she might be married soon and her duties kept her occupied more than sometimes she would have wished. It was then she noticed Ser Gregoir, a most reliable and trustworthy knight of the realm, she can remember him from being a small girl. “Ser Gregoir” she greeted with a regal nod and a beaming smile.

Quickly glancing down at Regan she placed a kiss on her dark locks “I won’t be a moment, love.”

Walking over to the knight, she stopped just in front of him “To what do I owe this pleasure?” she asked, her small hands clasping in front of her, it was rather uncommon for Gregoir to address the royal family, it was usually the Captain of the Guard, Nikolas to relay messages and such “Is Ser Nikolas not on duty today?” she asked curiously, wondering where fathers handsome guard was that particular day.

Genevieve had not noticed the mirror that sat upon the wall on the other side of the room. Only when her father looked directly into the thing did she see his his face within it. From what she could see there was a smile upon his face. Good to know she hasn't disturbed him any while he was having himself painting in such a gallant stance of which he was in. Once he'd called for her to go in, she did, coming out from her peering pose behind the door frame.

"I did not mean to disturb you, father," she said softly, "which is why I had opted to stay at the door." With that said, the young girl made her way over towards the painter, watching what he was doing from behind his shoulder.

Genevieve could not help by to lean a little bit closer to get an even better look upon the painting. Of which caused the thin man painting to become a bit nervous from it. She paid no mind, though, but kept her eyes upon it with curiosity. Her eyes flickers up for just a moment to look upon her father, giving a slight giggle. "I must say, the lion's head is quite the interesting touch. It does make you look like quite the fierce man you are though, my dear father, and always shall be." The princess smiled upon her father, the king, before turning her attention back towards the painter.

There was always something about artists she had to admire. It was probably the way they could capture someone or something so well that it was always quite the resemblance. From Genevieve was seeing from this painter, she could tell it was going to be quite the painting. It wasn't much long that there was announcement from one of the castle servant about a guest. Prince Desmond of Galirel she said or at least from what she had heard her say. She wasn't quite sure, but the girl turned her head to look upon the man.

Genevieve merely stood there, keeping silent as to let the two men catch up as it were. No need for her to interrupt them, it would be quite the rude thing for her to so. So instead she awaited for when they were done to speak her own.

Gregoir straightened himself, being presentable for the royal princess.

"Princess," he bowed his head in legitimate respect. For the most part of his career he had grown a distaste in nobility, frowning on their indulgence and elitism. Sebastien and likewise his daughters were quite different. He had raised them well and they knew how to carry themselves appropriately.

"Ser Nikolas asks for your assistance in. . ." he paused, "Matters of your expertise. The situation has called for him to be in the barracks with the men,"

He paused for a moment, looking past her shoulder and at the royal family going about with their day. Sebastien was there, poised triumphantly for an artist's brush.

"I do see you are busy, milady, I can report your absence should you wish to stay," he bowed his head.

***

"Nikolas! It's in the plaza!"

Nikolas cursed then turned to the man.

"Take your men down the hallway and cut off its escape! I'll chase it down!"

The day had suddenly gone awry. One minute the swan was docile, resting peacefully in the cage that contained the beast of rage, and the next it was up in Nikolas' face, snapping hard at his nose. One of his men thought it was in the best interest of the swan to feed it, and Nikolas agreed. What he didn't know was that the bastard opened the cage and was planning to hand-feed it the food. And now, it had escaped, squawking its terrible war cries echoing everlastingly through the great halls of the castle. He had round up a small group of men, enough to get the job done but not enough to draw too much attention. As if a swan running around the castle wasn't enough.

He had ordered all his men to wear their full helms, cages down lest they risk their faces being torn to shreds by the beast. Even now Nikolas could feel his nose, swelling up like a big plum in the middle of his face. It probably didn't look nice, and it for sure didn't feel any nicer. Nikolas had sustained his fair share of battle wounds, in fact, he's already proven his body capable to function beyond physical limitations, driven by mental endurance only, but that didn't change the fact that his nose ached and tears welled in his eyes.

"I've got it!" one of his men cried out. The fully armored soldier raised his great sword, swinging it hard and missing the beast by inches. He missed and chipped at one of the stone walls. The swan flapped a sharp corner, squawking menacingly and leaving the helpless men in the dust.

Nikolas had taken a shortcut, preparing to throw down head to head with the beast. He knew the castle well and that information served him well, especially now. He stepped out of one of the hidden doors, turned and was met with the sight of the swan charging straight at him. He could feel his adrenaline rushing, closing his full helm and raising his fists for combat.

Nikolas had great reflexes -- any seasoned swordsman must. They must be able to parry, dodge and block -- every action made seguing into an eloquent array of slashes, thrusts and bunts. Of course, with a humanoid opponent that was easy. Swan's were different. They don't have swords. They have long beaks like ivory pincers crushing anything and all between caught in its catch. Surprisingly, they also had quite a bit of weight on them. The combination of momentum, weight, and undying rage was probably what sent both beast and man tumbling to the floor in an all out brawl for supremacy.

He didn't want to kill the thing, he just wanted it to get the swan under control. Maybe a swift hay maker to the head would keep it down. He did thus, attempting to strike but failing miserably, smashing his gauntlet hand hard against the castle floor with a loud clash. His entire armed rippled in pain, and he grunted. The swan was too fast, too quick, and his full helm reduced his visibility to a pathetic slit in the visor. At this point Nikolas' men had closed in on the area, and eight of his soldiers surrounded both the swan and Nikolas, shields raised.

Once again proving its mettle, the swan squawked, flapping its wings and towards an unfortunate man, pecking at his full helms vision slit with lethal precision. The man roared in pain, stumbling back trying to collect himself. This had gone on for long enough. Nikolas, trading defense for sight threw off his full helm and jumped for the swan, grabbing hold of its feathery wings and tackling it to the floor.

The swan squirmed in his grip and managed to regain dominance, throwing Nikolas' back to the floor and snapping ferociously at his face. The only thing that stopped Nikolas' face from terrible ravaging was his strength holding back the swans slender neck and brutal face. He clenched his teeth. Nikolas' men stared in awe, the comicality of the situation was too strange for them to comprehend.

"Well, what are you doing?" he yelled at them, "Help me!"

Benedict smiles brightened considerably when he learned her identity. Here was one of his cousins and he didn’t have to wait for some feast to be presented to everyone. He rather hated attention directed at him considering the attention he would receive as Beatrice’s bastard probably wouldn't be the kindest. Perhaps now he’d be able to make an impression without being overshadowed by the mystery that surrounded his birth and whereabouts since then. Offering his arm, he bowed his head slightly and peered out at the princess before him through his dark hair. “It would be my honor, my lady, but I am no sir. Only Benedict of Kaareviel.” He said softly to Princess Aleiia, gracing her with another shy smile as they left the safety of the willow tree

Ben hadn't actually been lost but it was the first thing to come to his mind as to why he sought he out in the willow tree. Benedict was nothing if not a bit awkward and nearly incapable of communicating with women. Of course the only women he’d been around his whole life had been his mother or a nun so that really wasn't a whole lot to go on. He knew how to be the perfect gentleman, his manners were impeccable, the sisters made sure of that. Yet he had no idea how to actually carry on a conversation with a girl, let alone charm one into marrying him.

“I believe we’re cousins, my lady. My mother is your father’s sister. We've only just arrived for the feast, I’m to be my mother’s big surprise but I suppose it’s not so worrisome that another is in on the secret.” Benedict confided, figuring that the princess wouldn’t appreciate the fact that he escorted her all the way home and never bothered to let her know that they were related.

Mattie quirked an eyebrow, wondering what the gallant Ser Nikolas could possibly need her assistance with, especially at the barracks. Looking back at Regan she frowned slightly, before turning back to Ser Gregoir “No, no, it is quite alright, I shall come along now. It must be quite serious if he requests my help” Mattie laughed lightly.

“Regan, my sweet, I shall be back shortly” Mattie called across the room, hoping that her sister wouldn’t mind too much, she made a mental note of taking her out riding later, yet, Regan would like that “When I return I shall take you out on your pony” she promised with a warm smile, before turning back to Gregoir “shall we?”

---

Mattie approached the barracks in the company of Gregoir, her father would not like her to be unescorted in a predominantly male environment, it wasn’t proper for a Princess, apparently, not that Mattie minded, she liked getting to know the people who served her family and the realm. An array of rather unusual sounds, greeted the raven haired beauty, the clanging of armour, men shouting obscenities, the clashing of metal, at first the princess thought she had interrupted a training session, which was until she heard a loud squawk.

The doors before her burst open as a swan, followed by knights in full armour, spilt from the room, they stopped her dead in her tracks, her unusual blue, green eyes widened in surprise and a little amusement “Am I seeing this?” she uttered to herself, with a quick shake of her head.

So this was the emergency Ser Nikolas needed her assistance with, a rogue swan terrorising the Knight of Caldomaa…Mattie couldn’t help but laugh at that. Of course like most things, this situation needed a woman’s touch, gentleness and calmness, they probably did not realise that such hasty movements were just provoking the animal even more so, adding to its anger and distress. “I suppose we should go and rescue our valiant knights from this mighty foe” she smirked at Ser Gregoir, hoping that he would share her amusement in the situation.

Lifting her skirts lightly, she walked down the steps and over to where eight soldiers stood, surrounding a corner or more likely the Swan. As she approached she heard a familiar voice cry out “Well, what are you doing? Help me!” Her lips tugging into a brief smile, Mattie gently pushed her way through the crowd, offering ‘excuse me’ and ‘thank you’ to the men as she passed. They soon parted for her and she was not prepared for the sight before her.

Matilda could hardly contain her amusement at the sight of the captain of the guard on the floor with a swan in what only she could describe as a headlock. “Ser Nikolas, are you wrestling with a swan?” she quipped with a small smirk.

Sebastian kept his smile glamming as his daughter entered the room, and placed herself over the artist’s shoulder. “Tis fine Gen, just being preserved for posterity.” He chucked slightly as the painter reminded him to remain still. He smoothed his facial muscles and took another deep breath. “It is an ode to your Grandfather, Gen.” he told his daughter, whom with her passion for books was surely well aware of his own father “The Great Lion”.

His eyes looked back to another man standing in the doorway; at first he did not recognize the younger man. It wasn’t until he introduced himself as Desmond when it snapped. He hadn’t seen the young prince in years, not since the boy was no more than a child. Sebastian always thought of the lad as the son he never had, it would bring him great pride to be able to call him son in-law.

“Desmond, I hardly recognized you.” He said still stature like, “Pardon my informality,” he explained. “I wasn’t expecting you till tonight.” He told the lad and pointed to his daughter. “I don’t believe you’ve met my daughter Genevieve.”
Sabastain frowned at a strange sound, “Is that a Swan?”



Regan smiled as she kept her little secrets to herself, she knew many ladies in the castle thought she was mad or something she wasn’t of course, but it was fun to make them think so. She nodded as Mattie went off, and smiled as she promised to take her ridding. “Oh goody, I haven’t ridden gummyshoes in so long!” she squeaked.

The fight had lasted long enough to have wear on Nikolas, he was breathing heavily, locked in a stalemate of blood and sweat and tears and pain and weary with a his flat-footed nemesis. It wasn't so much as rallying the swan back into order now as it was retaining personal dignity. He lead the cavalry charge at Gerisan Plains, breaking the enemy lines and forcing them to retreat into the forest. He and with a small group of men retook the Jottingbor Hills, holding it until help could arrive. He owed it to himself to stand strong against the damn swan.

And yet. . a voice pierced eternity nearby the grapple. He saw her right away, Princess Matilda and her tender face. Gregoir was with her, and he stood over both swan and captain, his face a mixture of pity and humor. Damn that man, his timing couldn't be any worse. Nikolas immediately tried to salvage the situation, tried to make himself look somewhat of a dignified spirit.

"Ser Nikolas, are you wrestling with a swan?"

"Milady!" Nikolas said, loosening one of his arms grip around the swans neck and addressing her with an extended palm, "You look as beautiful as ev -- "

The swan bit hard on Nikolas' already swelling nose. The pain surged throughout his face, jolting him into sudden awareness.

"Bloody gripe!" Nikolas howled, loosening his grip entirely and standing up, kicking hard at the swan sending it hurling against one of the wall. It squawked in pain, and the men parted for the volatile feathery projectile. As soon as it hit the ground it regained composure, eyes wilder than ever. It sighted Matilda immediately and targeted, stampeding towards her.

Nikolas' eyes were wide. If Matilda was hurt, by a swan no less he would never forgive himself, nor would Sebastien. He grabbed the sword of the man nearest to him, drawing it out, a metallic screech echoing as it drew.

"Princess!" he said, poised to protect.

Matilda gasped slightly as the swan bit down hard on Nikolas’s nose, he in turn jumping to his feet in a hurried manner, anger exuding his senses as he kicked the bird against the wall, her eyes widened as a hand flew to her mouth at the clashing metal and the sight of white feathers, she feared the poor creature had met its end. Thankfully no damage seemed to been inflicted upon the animal, he was merely dazed and quickly picked himself up from the floor, although his eyes seemed wilder than before, oh he was angry now, Mattie could sense it.

The animal made a bee-line for the princess, who to her credit did not seemed at all fazed at the deranged creature, behind the animal she saw Nikolas draw a sword in fear that she me be harmed, it was after all his job to protect the royal family, even from a swan; she needed to act before the bird was killed. “Enough!” her usually delicate voice echoed across the court yard, stopping many in their tracks, including the bird. Its eyes softened as hers narrowed “don’t you even think about it” she directed towards the animal, an unprecedented authority in her voice, like a mother scolding a child. Matilda moved forward with confidence, until she stood before the bird who now lay down at her feet, kneeling down Mattie gently lay her hand upon the swans body, her own body speaking to the animal, she was becoming one, her eyes closed lightly, before opening them once again, a bright smile across her face “the poor dear has a broken wing” she cooed, gently petting the swans body, feathers silky under her touch.

Resting its head gently in her lap, she laughed lightly “you may put your sword away now, Ser Nikolas, he shall not be any more trouble.” Lifting the swan into her arms, Mattie rose to her feet “come I shall tend to both your wounds” she smiled softly at Nikolas as she turned to leave.

“It would be my honor, my lady, but I am no sir. Only Benedict of Kaareviel.”said Benedict and Aleiia smiled. He is modest, How nice. Aleiia held out her arm for him to take and soon after she started walking with him. “I believe we’re cousins, my lady. My mother is your father’s sister. We've only just arrived for the feast, I’m to be my mother’s big surprise but I suppose it’s not so worrisome that another is in on the secret.” Benedict said. " How delightful." Aleiia smiled, she felt alot less nervous now that she knew they were family. It wasn't uncommon to marry family. Not only that, Benedict seemed incredibly honest, that was a relief. "You're secret is safe with me." She said with a bright smile and a pat to the hand that was holding to hers.

The walk back to the palace from the garden wasn't too long but she decided she'd take this time to get to know her bashful cousin. Not that she was one to talk, She was horrible when it came to men, if she managed to get a word out, which was difficult to say the least, she would end up stammering like an idiot, not like the proud princess she was. She didn't know why she was incapable of carrying a conversation. She was the Princess after all. Perhaps she was not as confident as her sister, Matilda. Aleiia envied her sometimes, her confidence anyway. She loved her sister though.

"So, Benedict, You are here for the contest, I presu--"Just as she asked they came up to the main entrance. Aleiia froze as a handsome elf stood covered in mud. “Curse you! You guards! You assume you’re a solider? Soldiers charge into death on the battlefield. We gain no promise of life. And your greatest duty is to stand! You shall pay for treating as if I were a wad of horse dung! You bastards!”he cried out, fury evident in his posture. Aleiia blinked. "Princess," The guards said, bowing. Aleiia read the situation. The poor elf looked as though he'd been cleaning, and the foolish guards made a right and true mess of his hard work. " What is the meaning of this?" She asked firmly. The guard stumbled over his words. "Speak." She ordered, Aleiia was typically quiet sweet and gentle in nature however she'd inherited her father's impatience and therefore his temper. "We were just having a laugh, My lady."
"A laugh?" Aleiia said, her brow rose. " How's this for a laugh? You will continue what he has started and then tell how much of a laugh you have." She said and the guard nodded. " Well, What are you waiting for?" She asked as he stood there. The guard stammered. "I--You--"
"Get started then." She turned to the knight. " My deepest apologies, Sir Knight. All of your work gone to ruin. Come, Allow me get you fresh clothes." She said and gestured for him to accompany her into the palace, along with Benedict. Once inside, she looked to Benedict. "Thank you, Benedict, I must tend to the knight, I will see you at the feast." She said and looked back at the knight. "I am Princess Aleiia, I wish we could have met under better circumstances."

Aleiia gasped a little as the elf knocked over a pottery. Damn it! He shouted and she blinked. "My lady, I wished not to--I will collect the pieces...And...Restore it? Even if I dare not work, take my coin, but not my head!" He said on a panic as the water puddled around her feet. As he collected the pieces, a peice cut into his palm. "Oh my." She kneeled down to him. "Listen, my lady, you can handle a man who can see, like a blinded one." He said. "I owe to you my deepest apologies. In the academy, I was not the most balanced and steady fellow. It is funny how I still have not learn my lesson from when I was in the academy." He said and Aleiia took his hand. "Come now, Sir Knight, T'was only an accident. It is just a washing basin." She said with a smile and giggle. "I won't take your head or your coin over a vase." She said with a smile.

With her free hand, she hovered over the shattered pieces of clay. Her eyes flashed green before the peices shivered and then slowly reformed. She then waved a hand over the water, she pulled her hand up and over the vase. The water followed the trail of her hand. Once she was finished, she smiled at the elf. "It's as if it never happened." She said and the blushed as she noticed she was still holding on to his hand. She dropped her hand with a sheepish giggle. She picked up the water basin and stood.

"Sir Knight, you've never told me your name."

He obverse the princess repair the vase, of course he was amaze like any soul would. But he was not surprise, no rather relieved for he has only heard the princesses bear powers. Giggling would perhaps annoy a man, but he enjoyed her sweet laughter, it was a sign that he was no enemy, he could even be a pleasure.

"My name?" he questioned as he with caution this time, shifting his arm to the washing bashing. He sunk his fingernails into the silk cloth while he soaked and cleanse his face with the fresh clear water. He never seen water so clear for himself in years, being a solider you obtain it and don't question. He was refreshed with the cooling liquid; he dipped the silk into the water to wipe off the blood trickling down his fingers.

"To most people, I say I am knight. I search not for an fancy address, I search not for a name. I am solider and I will always be one, even if I am forgotten. But to you, a beautiful princess, I shall answer you correctly. I am Terrowin, I recommend not Sir Terrowin for I care not for my informalities. However that is your decision, who am I to object against you?"

My name?" He said and Aleiia eyed him curiously. Was it such a strange question? She thought it common to ask one's name after properly introducing oneself. He cleaned his palm with the water and Aleiia just watched. Was he going go lie to her? Why take so long to ponder of such a simple inquiry.
"To most people, I say I am a knight," He began. Aleiia figured that much already. She was curious as to why he was cleaning the floor. Bordom perhaps?
"I search not for an fancy address, I search not for a name. I am solider and I will always be one, even if I am forgotten.He said and Aleiia was mesmerized by his words. Modesty was something she found attractive in a man. Most of the nobles were too proud and vain. "But to you a beautiful princess, I shall answer you correctly. She blushed her called her beautiful. [/b]"I am Terrowin, I recommend not Sir Terrowin for I care not for my informalities."[/b] He said and she tested the name in her mind.

Terrowin...how interesting

"However that is your decision, who am I to object against you?"He said and she smiled. "Well, Terrowin, I understand the feeling, To want to be known by name and not title. If you don't mind, whilst in the company of guards and nobles I will address you as Sir but when we are alone, away from protocol and etiquette, I will not, and you needn't address me as Princess in those times as well." She said. "Just Aleiia would be nice." For once... she added in her head. "Is that alright?"

"Well, Terrowin, I understand the feeling, To want to be known by name and not title," when he heard the words, he felt rather vile. He lied to her, he does care about his title, he has toiled in bloodshed and gore, he wishes for what he desires. He believes he should have a grand palace of his own, thus a title is least people can pay him for his duties. Though if he boasted about himself, she would surely find him a nuisance.

"If you don't mind, whilst in the company of guards and nobles I will address you as Sir"

Well he shouldn't be upset and pout, fortunately she will give him the honor in front of high authorities.

"but when we are alone, away from protocol and etiquette, I will not"

He was not furious at her for not calling him in the future with his whole name, even though he feels royalty should because without soldiers like him, they could not even have a drip of water trickle down into their dry tongue.

"and you needn't address me as Princess in those times as well."

He would feel much more in joy to use her name fully, for that will be a reminder he is stands in the face of a king's daughter and he must mind his matters and wear this mask of lies.

He does sense guilt for the lies that carve his personality in front of middle and high class souls. Though sometimes he believes if he shoves the lies around he may become that humble pride-less man, and it will seem he is not lying after all.

"Well, as a recruit, the nickname 'Pointy ears' was forged and used among the academy when I enter, because I am one of the only elves in the land," he mentioned with a grin.[/b]

Nikolas stared at Matilda, confused. The swan was as feral of a beast as any, and frankly, the fact the she had calmed it so quickly was frightening. She had a sense of authority he would never understand, something Sebastien ingrained into all of the princesses from a young age. They were royalty and they sure did exude the prestige expected from them. He remembered faintly staring up from the salty docks as a young child, the calm breeze casting over his face staring high up at the castle, wondering what was up there -- who was up there. He stepped forward, about to speak and somehow justify his case. The princess spoke.

"Come, I shall tend to both your wounds," Nikolas could have melted there, sensing the sincerity in her eyes. He would have given up his sword, his shield, placed them down to be picked up by another. All he wanted was some semblance of stability, a life where your best friend was not constantly at risk of dying in combat, or where you werenot always fearful whether or not you would make it back to your sister in time for her birthday. He gulped, still embarrassed, bowing his head.

"Of course, milady, I. . . apologize for this," he followed her, stopping at Gregoir first before leaving.

"I have a lot to explain to you Gregoir, perhaps we should integrate swans in Caldomaa's beastiary sections?" he grinned, ignoring the pain in his nose.

Gregoir raised an eyebrow, "You don't need to explain nothin' sir, just have a good time," a smile perked up on the side of his lip, subtly gesturing to the princess, walking away.

"I'll handle things here," Gregoir finished.

Nikolas smiled, "Aye ser," he said, nodding his way before following after the princess.

Nikolas caught up to her, walking by her side. His mind had reached a dead-end, and he didn't know what words to say or jive to play that could possibly salvage the awkwardness of his fight with the swan. He spoke the most prominent thing that came to his mind.

"You look wonderful as always princess," he complimented, wriggling his nose, trying to ignore the pain.

Aleiia giggled. "Pointy Ears?" She giggled some more behind her hand. "I find your ears charming, I hope they weren't too mean." She actually hadn't seen many Elves in her life but it wasn't a thing she felt she should be an awe about. Sure, they were rare but they were still a being with which deserved equal treatment just as with the people with similar skin color as her. There aren't many around here so when they see that both the Queen and one of the princess bare such a color, they are in shock. 'I have never seen such a color on skin before.' they'd say as if it really matter. So they looked different, why does that matter?

"I aquried the playground nickname of The Brown One as a child." She said with a nod. "For I am of a darker color then all my sisters." She said and realised she and Terrowin were kindred spirits. They were both different, by only appearance only. "I like the name Terrowin, I think I'll continue with that."She said with a smile. "So, Terrowin, Are you here for the contest?" She asked, a little nervous now.

Matilda cast her gaze back towards Nikolas as he apologised for the ruckus, smiling softly at his words, Mattie shook her head "It is alright Ser Nikolas, there is no need to apologise" she cooed lightly, her eyebrow suddenly quipped as a small smirk tugged on the Princess's red lips "I'm sure disturbing the peace only hold the minimal sentence" she teased with a small chuckle before walking back across the court yard, the swan still nestled in her arms.

By the time she had reached the entrance back into the palace, Nikolas was once again following her after quickly speaking with Gregoir, he quickly fell into stride with her, as they navigated the labyrinth of corridors around their beautiful home. There was a silence between the pair, although a comfortable one, it surprised Mattie how comfortable she was with the captain, she had always been a sociable girl but was usually less comfortable with people who weren't her family or close friends, but with Nikolas it just felt right.

Blue hues glanced up at him as he complimented her, averting her gaze briefly Mattie smiled and blushed slightly "Thank you, that is very kind of you too say." She spoke softly "you look very handsome, especially with your wound" she dazzlingly spoke, the words leaving her mouth before she could even think about it. When her words did register she blushed profusely, luckily the royal physicians room soon came into view. Opening the door she walked inside placing the bird down on a small cot in the corner "now don't you move" she spoke to the swan before turning back to Nikolas "please, have a seat, I shall see what I can do about your nose."

Desmond nodded at the Sebastian mentioned he hadn't expected him until later that night. "Yes, I arrived early for the very occasion of catching up." He then drew his attention to the young girl standing beside Sebastian. Easily you could tell it was his daughter, for their resemblance was very noticeable.
The young prince smiled brightly as the king introduced him to his daughter. The girl was young, mid or late teens. Her hair was a auburn brown red, and her skin was fairly pale. He eyes were a pretty, light, icy blue. Her posture was of a princess, straight and poised. She looked polite, and seemed a bit soft spoken. He delicately took her small fragile hand in his larger, slightly coarse from years of holding a sword, and lifted her fingers to his lips. He kissed them gently, and let her hand fall back into place as he spoke, "The pleasure of our meeting is all mine, your highness." He sent her a charming smile before turning his attention back to the king, who seemed puzzled. "Is that a swan?" he asked, confused about a noise he'd heard moments before.
Desmond furrowed his brow, and looked around to where the noise had come from. Outside, he supposed. Though he couldn't really be sure. "It sounded like it.." he started and trailed off. Suddenly a howl of what sounded like pain echoed through the area. At this Desmond stepped over towards the window, that overlooked the training grounds. His eyes swept the area, until just below he saw an interesting sight. A few soldiers and a swan stood in a bit of a tangle. The swan was soon taken into the arms of a woman with dark black hair. Who was this beautiful creature? he wondered. Her elegance and grace lead him to believe she was indeed the daughter of Sebastian. Her soft features reminded him of the king, but there was a hint of something that showed her mother. Either way he couldn't take his eyes off of her until she walked inside the castle, out of his view.
It couldn't be... could it? He wondered. Then it clicked, it was Matilda. A flash of memories filled him, of coming to visit the castle and playing with Matilda and Aleiia. The young girl he once knew had grown up to be a stunning woman, and he was left somewhat speechless.
Realizing he'd been in somewhat of a daze, he snapped back into reality, turning to the king. "It was indeed a swan, your highness." He glanced out the window to the training grounds again, then back to the two of them. "When do the games begin again?" he asked, trying to keep his mind off of Mattie.

"The tone of your skin, I can not describe how it looks to me. It is not as dark as dirt, nor as light as the clouds. Bronzes... yes a gorgeous bronze. Like a fresh forged bronze blade," he complimented her truthfully.

"It reminds me of the stories about the elves. You do not know that my people are enslaved in different lands, yes? Oh yes, this began centuries ago. And you see, elves were born with skin the pink color peach, their body was not prepared for the sun. Tending to fields and dwelling exposed to the sun damaged their skin. It morphed red and stung like an attack of bees. They survive this for long until they started to adapt to it. Their offsprings were not immune to it, however did not endure as great amount of harm. Then their offsprings advance, then theirs, and so on. I am not a full elf. No, my father was human and my mother was elven. You can clearly see that my skin is light a bit tinted, and that is for I was once overwhelmed by armor. Very well, I shall quit my rambling, I apologize for doing so.

"Now, the answer for you question. No, I am here just to scrub the floors of the king, be insulted by guards, and be aided by a lovely stunning lady."

He released a softened chuckle before continuing, "No, no. I jest, except for the lovely stunning part. Yes, I am here to compete. And perhaps even discover a great treasure. I reckon I find it, the old ancient stories spoke of it, do you know what it is, Aleiia?"

Nikolas walked, pacing along with Matilda. The day was nice, a soothing breeze whispering through the trees of Caldomaa. Birds danced way overhead, small blue dots darting back and forth, catching and escaping each others bound. In the distance was the ruckus of the day, people hustling and bustling to and fro setting up vendor stands and advertising their latest product. Life never ceased in Caldomaa, there was always heartache and happiness, hunger and content. The balance in the land was met, not only with the pristine weather but with the people as well. Life never stopped in Caldomaa -- time never stopped in Caldomaa. Everything had its place and worked clockwerk in a machine much bigger than anyone could comprehend.

But Nikolas could feel a solemn space with the princess, where the worries of the day ceased and the day seemed a little brighter and the birds sung a little louder. He learned quick enough after his father had passed that those little things were what made a typical day into one worth smiling about. After Nikolas enlisted in Caldomaa's regiment it was shoved time and time again into his head that those little things were worth fighting for. Now, after all the years of weary and hardship balancing military dogma with family values and with his promotion to Captain of the Guard he learned the most important lesson of all: that those little things were sacred, and worth protecting and dying for. He treasured this short, but quiet time with the princess.

"Thank you, that is very kind of you to say," the princess said.

Nikolas smiled, noticing her blush. Anything to brighten her day he supposed.

"You look handsome, especially with your wound," Nikolas heard her say, he grinned boyishly, stifling a laugh.

"Then perhaps you should have been there when Gregoir and I stormed Vechkin's Tower," he referred to a past campaign he had partaken in. Nikolas was a modest man, but when it came to talking about his past and the stories he made Nikolas was never cut short, plus he wanted to impress the princess.

"Some bastard shot me while I was on the move, almost went straight through my knobs -- " he froze suddenly, cursing himself for his stupidity and sudden lack of formality. You're talking to the princess dammit, address her as such. Nikolas cursed himself then attempted to salvage the small talk.

" -- . .. knee. Gregoir watched me limp back to camp, since it ricocheted and a piece of shrapnel hit my shin ," Nikolas swallowed trying to hide his nervousness, "I mean, I was hurt that day. Not in a bad way, just because I look. . . well I assumed you thought wounded men were more handsome, so. . ." he shut himself up. He could feel his ancestors face palming from eons ago.

Nikolas sat down when she ordered. Perhaps his silence would ward off the awkwardness, perhaps not, but as of now it came to the captain as the most viable option. If his stupid mouth was shut it wouldn't say any more stupid things. He watched Matilda as she tended to his wound, admiring how delicate her face looked up close. Nikolas could have sworn he stopped breathing for a good minute, so focused, so observant, but he didn't care. He felt like he could be himself around her, and he spoke, softly.

"My sister Aeryn always asks about you," he spoke, a genuine sincerity in the Captain's voice as he recollected the conversation with his sister, "Well, after asking about the horses and the gardens and the food," Nikolas laughed.

Genevieve gave her father a quick glanced before he attention was then again put onto the other male inside the room, besides the painter that is. She gave this man a slight look over, noting to herself his features. What oddly stuck out to here was his height, she did not know of any man that was of such height. Though, for such a reason as that it was no wonder it was what stood out about the prince.

Her eyes were once again placed upon the man's face, watching closely as his hand took hers ever so delicately. The feeling of his hands upon her own was quite interesting, a bit rough and couldn't really understand the reason for that. "I'm certainly sure it is," she said in return, placing her hand back where it had been before.

Just as the others, she couldn't help but to hear the sound of a swan as well, peaking up a slight curiosity. Unlike Desmond, she paid no mind in finding out, but gently placed a hand upon her father's shoulder. "I am sure it is nothing of worry, Father," she began, "you've many other things to worry your mind over than just the sound of a swan.

The young princess walked around to his other side, fixing the lion's head that sat upon his shoulder. "Like keeping still so the painter can do is job with out too much hassle," she gave a light giggle, a smile proceeding it.

Sebastian smiled towards his daughter, “Yes, probably already taken care of.” He nodded gently. Genevieve has always been Sebastian’s favorite daughter, not that he would tell his other daughters that but sometimes he feels as if it is obvious. “Ah yes but François is such a brilliant artist I have no doubt he can capture anything.” He smiled and looked to Desmond staring out the window. “The Tournament is at midday.” He said, “The feast this evening, we still have time don’t we?” he asked forgetting what time it was, as the clock tower struck ten beats. “Yes, see we have time.”

The Painter set his bush down, and looked at the canvas admiring his work. It would be a masterpiece the most brilliant piece he’s ever done, and yet something was missing. Peeking up from his canvas he gasped, “Oui! That is it!” he exclaimed. Looking up over the canvas, “Sì, sì! Bellissimo!”

“François, what is it?” Sebastian’s attention was suddenly shifted from his daughter and Desmond as the tall skinny little man jumped from the painting and grabbed a chair. “Votre Altesse” he said addressing Genevieve, “If you would s'il vous plait?” he said placing the chair besides The King, and asking the girl to sit beside him.
“Oui, Oui! A famiglia Ritratto!”

Sebastian looked at the man as if he was crazy, “The whole family?” he asked the mane.
“Oui, Oui Votre Majesté.”

Sebastian looked to his daughter, “What do you think of that?” he laughed.

"Oh that he certainly is, father, more than likely one of the best we know," she gave a light chuckle, her hand hovering over her mouth as she did. Her eyes fell away from her father for a moment, as she watched the skilled painter continue his work at finished her father's portrait. No doubt in her mind that he had capture him as the man he certainly is.

The sudden outburst of the painter caused her eyes to widen in surprise, what exactly was he thinking about? Genevieve moved herself a tad bit to get out of the thin man's way, curious to know what he was doing. After he'd gotten the chair for her and asked her to sit, she couldn't help but to look over at her father.

A family portrait? How long would that even take the man to do? Not to mention they would have to gather the entire family for the thing to even be able to do so. But, it did seem like a rather pleasant idea, a painting of all of them together.

"Hmmm, well," she placed a finger upon her chin as she thought, "something of the whole family together would be nice and Francois seems so excited about it as well." The princess could not help but to stop talking to chuckle at his enthusiasm.

"So," she walked over and sat upon the chair as she was asked to do, "I like the idea, we should definitely do it. You should have someone fetch the rest of us though, father." The girl smiled ever so softly towards her father, to whom she was now sitting herself next to.

Matilda listened as Nikolas spoke about his past campaigns, she was curious and full of intrigue about his tales, for one Matilda had always enjoyed stories about great battles and sieges, about valiant knights risking all to protect and defend their countries. She hung on his very word, missing the drop in decorum, not that she minded, all the social protocols bored her at times, especially when people would dull their words just to make their conversations fitting for a Princess.

She couldn't help but chuckle at his slight nervousness "Not all wounded men, just some" or one, Mattie added mentally, offering a coy smile over her shoulder as she prepared the cream that would help ease the pain and swelling of Nikolas's nose. "i enjoy hearing of your battles, Ser Nikolas, perhaps you could tell me more some day?" she asked, genuinely interested in hearing stories of heroic battles.

Once the cream was prepared, she walked back over to him, kneeling down before the handsome knight and began to place the ointment upon his swollen nose, smiling lightly as her delicate fingers brushed against his skin "Don't worry you won't have to wear this all the time, just for a few minutes each day, it shall take away the pain and swelling." She continued to work as he spoke about his sister, whom she had met on a number of occasions and always found her to be the most splendid little girl. "She did?" Mattie asked with a beaming smile "And how is she?"

"Say, I promised to take Regan out riding this afternoon, perhaps you could both join us? Gods know it would put father's mind at ease to know that you are accompanying us."

Aleiia's heart raced as he spoke her name. A blush came across her tawny brown face as he complimentd her skin tone and called her stunning.

She giggled behind her hand as he joked.

She was glad he was here to compete, perhaps he would win. That would be nice. Prehaps even choose her. That thought caused her blush to redden even futher. "No, I do not." She lied. She wouldn't have normally but she knew what the 'treasure' was. It was her, or her sisters. Well, Regan was much too young. Or atleast she hoped that the competitors thought that way. She was a Princess and by law she was eligible.

"I suppose you have to win to find out." She said with a grin. "Come now, you need fresh clothing. Something fit for a knight." she said. "Even if he does not wish to be addressed as such." She giggled, extending her arm to him.

"Well it's--," he started speaking in a mutter, however he was interrupted by her voice. He desired to say aloud, "True Love."

"There is a time for everything," he confessed to himself mentally as he was escorted by Aleiia. He paused and brushed by his sunny blonde hair while he announced, "Excuse me, apologizes. But I have left a pouch of my scout's uniform. I am no longer currently occupied as a knight until I my wounds and injuries are fully healed. Please, let me fetch the garments. If it not be a pain, meet me at the front entrance, we met earlier in the day."

He bowed as he exited the palace and marched his way other to his horse. The head of the creature adjusted to the ground as its eyelids began to sink. Terrowin unleashed the suit from the pouch. He emerged into the dark green archer vest as the leather straps crossed his torso wielding his daggers on the back. Leather guards topped with sheep's wool grasp his shoulders. Black leather slacks gripped his legs tightly and even squeaked when he walked. Light weight boots climbed up the pants, ending at his knees.

He stood in the slippery marble, he was tripped by the moist flooring. The path was practically wet and it seemed abandoned, he fell and landed on his butt. He abled himself to his feet as he cursed aloud, "Why don't you reveal your face to me, you craven brain boiled scum!"

"How about now?" he turned around only to be welcomed by a harsh shoved to the ground.
"You are just a scrawny dim-witted elf! Did the lady reject you, just like father? You believe we dare not know? This is revenge for earlier!"

The same man from the moment before rose his foot to stomp on Terrowin's gut. However the young knight earned the fortune advantage of battle smarts. He swung his foot at the leg joint, not break it but causing him to lose balance of the moist marble. The guard plunged to the ground with a groan. Terrowin hurled his body on the man's stomach while the elf's elbow met his enemy's nose, breaking it.

"I-I surrender!" the guard cried out, squirming, desiring to escape from Terrowin.

The young knight continue to pounded his face against the man's skull, controlled by rage and anger.

Aleiia knew not what to do, or say after his departure.

True Love? That's what he believed the treasure was? He is here to fine true love just as she was searching herself. All she managed as he left and asked for a later rendezvous was a small and meek "A--aye."

It was not how a Princess would speak and yet, here she was struck dumb by the elven knight, whose eyes she could not erase from her memory, whose voice smooth as silk and rang in her mind like a soft summer rain. Her heart raced at the thought of him.

Could it be that she may have already found the one to whom she prayed to the Goddess Gaia for guidance towards. Was her heart already his?

She closed her eyes.

No. It's too soon. A simple conversation, however engaging however long she could just sit and listen to him speak, it was not enough to define true love.

Or Was it?

Aleiia had to force herself not to run toward the marble stairs.

She thought with a giggle. If they were meant to be, then they stairs shall be their special place, where they first met.

She opened the door with a smile but it disappeared as she watched the scene before her.

"Terrowin?" She peeped as he beat the downed guard as he cried for mercy.

"Terrowin. stop." She said, her voice was small even in her own ears.

She felt tears sting her eyes.

He couldn't be the one.

She realised sobbing lightly as she watched him.

Sebastian smiled, "Well we'll talk to your mother about it tonight." he said knowing he could never make this discussion without at least talking it over with Desdemona. “Besides, there isn’t enough time today to gather everyone.” He laughed, as the tournament started to creep closer in his mind. “Well I should probably get changed for that tournament.” He sighed as François nodded and bowed out of the room. He looked to his daughter and sighed, “I trust you will make sure young Desmond doesn’t get lost.” Then turning to Desmond, “and I trust you to regain my daughter in the upmost honor, that her title deserves.”

Sebastian walked pasted the two thought a door that lead to his changing room where he quickly changed his attire to that of a more Caldomaaian attire. It was a little much for his taste, but he couldn’t go out looking like a ‘Savage’ now could he?

“Savage indeed” he grumbled in a mood.

"I enjoy hearing of your battles, Ser Nikolas, perhaps you could tell me more some day?"

"By your desire, princess,"

Nikolas could feel himself grinning like a child. It was strange, the two never truly got to see each other often and despite that the Captain felt just at home with the princess as he would in the Lysanders small shanty shack by the docks. The shack where Aeryn would constantly interrogate information about the castle from him, forcing answers or risk his dinner to be tossed out the window, forever lost in the enigmatic waves of the ocean. Back in his youth home was an abstract idea to the young soldier. It was a mystery, something so secret and intangible that that just a whisper of a thought would make it disappear. Maybe, just maybe he had found home here, serving as Captain for a family he truly loved and would lay down his life for, just as he would his own. Maybe home was this beautiful woman tending to his swollen nose. He was in a daze for a moment, staring blankly at the princess until she broke his trance with a voice sweet as honey.

"Don't worry you won't have to wear this all the time, just for a few minutes each day, it shall take away the pain and swelling."

"Of course, milady," he suddenly had an urge to twitch his nose. Nikolas did so, it still ached, but not nearly as much as it did before. She was a very skilled herbalist, there was no doubt about that.

"She did?" Nikolas watched her, smiling as she inquired, "And how is she?"

"Well, good, I suppose," the Captain smiled, talking about his sister always made him smile, "As far as a rambunctious ten year old can be. She can be a nuisance to my mother -- to the point where she would threaten throwing Aeryn off the dock if she wouldn't stop," he paused for a second trying to picturing that. Little Aeryn being tossed off the docks by his angry mother. He frowned for a second because quite frankly, that wasn't hard to picture at all.

Nikolas listened to the princess' offer to go riding with her and Regan. He would have jumped all over the opportunity, but then he heard father and was a little apprehensive. His duty would go with the king. . . but if it happened to coincide with a fair horse-ride with the fair princess in a fair scenic avenue than who was he to complain? The fact was that Nikolas knew too well about the competition Sebastien was throwing for his daughters, and upon hearing Nikolas respectfully dismissed it as simply not being worth his time. He had already grew fond of Matilda before the game, and well, to be seen competing in it would not bode well at all to the public. He was the iconic wedge that drove harm away from Caldomaa's royalty, that was his first and foremost duty. He did not want to use his position to better his own ambition, and he certainly did not want to be seen as taking advantage of Matilda. Nevertheless, there was opportunity to be had here and Nikolas all too well ravaged it.

"I would love to," Nikolas replied, "Should your father not require my personal presence then it would be in my best interest to accompany you for the entire day actually,"

"As my duty calls for, of course," the captain added, feigning a sly innocence.

Aleiia stood frozen as Terrowin came forward and wrapped his arms around her. It was all she could do but stay there.
"I...I have flaws...And I...I apologize for that...Just then you have found one...Though Forgive me..." He said into her hair as his warmth was over her as she found herself relaxing in his embrace. "Please understand that academy is jy history...War was my life...No mercy was my code...How can you capture a wild dog and expect himself tamed?" One merciful enough to guide shall tame it. Please guide me..." He whispered, she could feel the sincerity in his words. It was in his nature, it was all he knew. Much like Mother would explain Father. Aleiia slowly rose her arms and closed them around his firm waist, resting her head against his chest as he held her.
After a moment she looked up at him, ingoring the blood that splashed on his tinted face. Her eyes fell to his lips and wondered breifly how it would feel, his lips against hers.

It was such a breach of etiquette, this embrace alone was enough for her father to send him far away, coupled with the blood on his knuckles, face and tunic.

Yet...She didn't care.

"I forgive you, Terrowin." she breathed. She rose a hand to his porcelain skin, smoothed her thumb over the blood, flicking it from his face yet letting her hand linger there. "I forgive you."

Deleted

Aleiia's eyes fluttered closed as Terriwon pressed his lips to hers, As his blood covered hand slid into her hair, and his warm tongue slipped between her lips, Aleiia felt a warmth she's has never experienced before.

She knew she should stop him. He'd get in so much trouble, if they were caught, she'd never see him again. She knew that and yet the touch of his lips...it seemed to dissolve all sense of reason, all she wanted was more.

She tilted her head, deepening the kiss as a blush rose to her bronze cheek.

It was then she realised.

The Goddess answered her prayers. She prayed for her heart to find the right path and it lead her here, to the marble stairs where she met the elven knight.
Her Terrowin.

She slide her arms around his neck.

He must be her true love

No. He is her true love.

She could feel it as they continued to kiss,right there on the marble stairs were she found him.

She realised he had to win.
He had to win the contest. If he didn't, she could be chosen by someone else. Unless, of course, the winner chose one of her sisters. That would be nice but she didn't want to leave it up to chance, until then, they must keep this a secret.

She couldn't help feel a rush of excitement as she thought how they must hide their love like the characters in a novel. They would pretend not to know one another, meanwhile, they were in love.

As hard as it was to do, she pulled away from the kiss, still keeping her arms around him as she looked at him.

"We must go, We can not allow them to see us like this." She said, realising that eventually, other knights, dukes, and princes will show up, for the contest, and they were standing at the main enterance.

"In the garden, at the lone Willow tree." She said softly. "It is rare that others go there, especially when the sun begins to set." She said and a blush rose to her cheeks. "We can be alone there." She said, she didn't mean that they'd go that far, she was still a maiden after all but it made her wonder, would she give her maidenhood to him?
"At least until the end of the contest." She said as she gazed upon his face, her fingers brushed against his lips and all she wanted was more but they continue here, not when time felt as if it had ceased when she was locked in an embrace with him.


"Will you meet me there, Terrowin?"

"Of course I shall," He said and she grinned.
"But I must put that man's life to an end. I have to, he would report me for beating him mercilessly."He whispered, her eyes fluttered as he brushed her hair from her face. Aleiia knew again, not what to say. "Unless you lie, you were the only witness of his crying for mercy. If you do not lie, then he dies, or we shall never see each other again."

Aleiia stood in shock, her arms had fallen to her sides. Tears formed in her eyes.
"I have flaws...

His words to her echoed in her mind. Yes, Indeed he does. This man begged for his life and had she'd not been there, Terrowin surely would have ended him. There was no denying that. She closed her eyes, forcing the tears back. She hated violence. yet the one man, the single one man in the world who has captured her heart was violent like only one other. Her Father.

"It will be mericful enough to. Look at him, with the blood and proof of his crying for mercy. He can convince youe father I desired to murder him- murder a palace guard. I could be demoted, punished harshly, and never again see you," Her heart lurched at the thought of it. She'd only just met him but she felt as if she couldn't be without him. "However if you lie, and say he did not dare aso for mercy then I will be safe. Please, for me, for us. It is just one simple lie."

Aleiia shook her head. "There isn't such a thing as a simple lie, Terrowin." She said, her voice was low. She wanted to be fair, just Queen when it was her time, just as her mother is. But faced with this...she had to choose between what is fair and just. -Terrowin being punished for what he'd done- and true love.

What would her mother do?

She'd pray for guidance.
"Dear Goddess Gaia, Guide me, What is the right decision, you answered my prayers, lead me to Terrowin, Am I to allow him to go unpunished for his crimes? I am so lost."

Aleiia opened her eyes, her golden brown pools bore into Terrowin's.
"He'd been baiting you, he attacked you, You defended yourself. That is the truth," She said. "Let him live. If he goes to my father, he will have to suffer for his own crimes, crimes at which are far worse then yours, being that he'd disobeyed the orders of a Princess, by attacking you." She said and it was as if a wieght had been lifted. She needn't lie nor lose her Terrowin.
"Thank you, Goddess Gaia, I am eternally grateful for your guidance."

A small smile crept across her full lips as she wrapped her arms around him again.

Matilda listened as Nikolas talked about his sister, a small smile on her face which echoed his own, there was just something about a man who talked about his siblings in such a way; it showed that despite his tough exterior and battle hardened features, Nikolas was still a man who loved and cherished family, it was a sweet notion. “She is probably bored” Mattie offered as a possible solution “Gods know Regan is the same when her dolls and Sir Reginald do not suffice.” Her mind drifted towards her little sister for a moment, the familiar smile and warming in her heart ever so present, Aleiia and Genevieve were also close to her heart, yet they were different not only in looks but also personality. Aleiia took after their mother, Queen Desdemona, beautiful tanned skin and a gentleness that could challenge a placid lake. Genevieve was a mixture of both, she took after their father in looks, fair skin and fiery red hair, a gift from their grandmother and yet her temperament favoured their mothers. Now, Matilda was the image of her father, pale skin, the dark locks and with eyes which bore into ones soul, her own temperament was that like her father yet there was a soft and gentle part of her that favoured her mother’s gentle nurturing. Regan was more like herself than any of her other sister and perhaps that where their connection came from.

Remembering Nikolas, she shook the thoughts from her mind and focused on the man before her “sorry, seems I momentarily got lost in my own thoughts” she smiled sheepishly, bringing a cloth up to his nose and wiped the cream from his skin.
“You should bring Aeryn to court, I’m sure my own sister would like someone her own age to play with. According to Sir Reginald, I am too boring” she laughed lightly with a shake of her head.

Mattie noted Nikolas apprehension upon coming riding with herself and Regan, but understood, he held a duty to her father, not to herself but still she was a little disappointed, she found herself wanting to spend more time with the handsome man before her. Then he spoke once more and a bright smile tugged at her reddened lips “Wonderful” she gushed gleefully “I am sure he’ll agree, he does not like us to go riding out alone and perhaps by doing this he’ll think that I am actually staring to listen!”

Standing up, she walked back over to the herbal table, placing the bowl back down as she began to prepare things to tend to the swans broken wing “Ser Nikolas, are you planning on entering the competition?” she asked glancing at him from over her should “You should.”

Aleiia watched his expression. He seemed conflicted. It was clearly not an easy feat for him to go back on the ways he was raised. The fighting, the pain, the blood shed. It was a part of him.

"Please guide me..."

He'd asked her and perhaps,it wasn't meant to be taken seriously but she felt his words. she saw the regret in his eyes as he watched her weep. Prehaps he wanted to be better yet didn't know how.

She leaned up, pressed her lips against his once more, letting her soft hand rest upon his jaw.

The kiss was a soft one, gentle not as heated as their first one nor as long.

She pulled away, her lips mere inches from his with her eyes still closed. "You asked me to guide you, My love, and so I shall." she whispered to him. "I see that the concept is a strange one but I know deep down you wish to grasp it, otherwise you wouldn't have stopped when I called, nor would you have admitted to me that you were flawed." She said softly, their lips only a kiss away.

"If you so wish, I will guide you."

Nikolas felt a warmth inside after seeing such a positive response from the princess. He liked making her happy. Truth be told, he couldn't help but feel himself get excited for the upcoming horse ride. Sure Regan would be there, but he had always enjoyed her childish humor. It would be a fine evening, one so far away from the shores of stress and discomfort. He deserved that semblance of peace. As she turned away from him and back to the herbal table he didn't realize his eyes drifting, admiring the princess' feminine outline and behind. When she finally spoke his eyes widened, and he jolted suddenly, as if somebody was there to witness his guilt. The feeling quickly subsided when he comprehended what she had said. Had she read his mind?

The whole competition with the princess' and subsequently the crowning of heir to the two great kingdoms never sat well with Nikolas. He respected Sebastien, as authority, mentor and friend alike, but upon hearing news about the great romantic game he was apprehensive. It was always in the captain's belief that the successor to good Sebastien would have to be someone of the highest integrity, an astute leader and experienced political figure -- not some schmuck from elsewhere that happened to woo a princess and be rewarded class power beyond comprehension. And it wasn't that he didn't trust the princess' judge of character, no, it was just that he was still stuck in regimental code where title was only bestowed upon merit, not the personal preference of a particular person. His eyes softened as his mind trailed away from that thought to the slender woman in front of him. It was as if everything Nikolas had ever done led to this moment. The blood, the sweat, and the toil. Staring up at the feint stars overhead as a young soldier, the pitter-patter of rain drenching everything around. The screams, the war cries -- monumental surges of emotion that threatened to move mountains. Conversations in the dark with friends gutted by arrows asking: "What purpose will I serve?", and "Who am I to be?".

Who was Nikolas to be? Successor? It never really crossed his mind, for Nikolas did not want to over extend his fortune thus far. But he saw more in Matilda than just an avenue to riches and power as others might have, and he could have cared less about any of that. He knew that he wanted her, and even worse it made him sick to his stomach to picture her with anybody else.

Take the lead.

He remembered one of his best friends saying that before charging forward into the fray, his body now strewn in dust across a field long-forgotten in the sands of time.

And so he did.

The captain stood up, walking over to Matilda as she busied herself with the herbal remedies methodically organized on the table. His gauntlet hand reached for hers, turning her around. He looked at Matilda with somber blues, raising her hand and kissing the top of it gently.

"The time is here, and the reward is great, milady," he smiled softly, "You have convinced me to join in the fray with the rest of the suitors," Nikolas' voice was sincere, and he was happy.

Whatever blissful peace the two shared at that moment was interrupted by a loud squawk. Nikolas had completely forgotten the swan was there in the first place. He looked at it, returning a glare.

"So long as there are no swans in the mix," the captain frowned.

"We are....We are in great difference. I want to love you but it is like a barrier is blocking me to." He said in reply.

From then on, All Aleiia could say was no. Everything he said, he was wrong.

Suddenly, when he twisted away from her. She jumped alittle, tears dripped down her honey brown cheeks.
"Terrowin no..." She said, as he pulled out his dagger, the ground below her began to quiver. Every words from his mouth, scared her. How could she love a man so violent. So bent on blood, that he could not let love in to his heart.

As he approached the downed guard, Aleiia opened her hand, as if controlled by Gaia herself. "Terrowin, Listen to me." She cried as the roots from nearby trees sprang up from the ground, wrapped around his ankles amd wrists and pulled him to his knees.

She ran to him dropped to her knees in front of him, and pulling her hand across his cheek and just as quickly, she through her arms around him, "Stop this. Stop this thinking now." She said, trembling. "I love you, Terrowin, and I know you love me. You need not worry about what others think or do because, you have me right here." She said into his yellow hair. "We have only just met and yet, I know I can never be without you. If you continue like this. Raving mad, I will lose you, Terrowin and I can not bare the thought of it." She said sobbing. "No one is going to take me from you, I'll make damn sure of that." She said after pulling back to look into his eyes.

After a silence, Terrowin spoke. "No, No I am not," He said and Aleiia stood confused.
"I dare not be puzzled or bewildered, no. You are my guardian out in what feels a strange world to me, but your home. When you arrive in my home, that is the time I protect you." He said and she sat back on to her legs, breathing a sigh of relief.

There was silence then as the roots slid back into their resting place and he was freed from his wooden shackles.

And Aleiia," He said and her skin chilled at the sound of her name on his tongue. She looked up at him. "Remind me never to duel you." He said and she let off a laugh. "Oh Terrowin," She said, with a touch to his face and a smile lingering on her lips. She watched his face, committing it to memory. Even if he did not win the throne. He'd won her heart. She hoped that was more important to him.

She stood up, ingoring the dirt on her gown. She took his hands and pulled him to his feet, looking up at him, she smiled.

"Will you allow yourself to love me now?" She asked him softly, gripping his hands. "Has that barrier fallen?"

Aleiia put her hands on her hips as he jested about a cage but smiled regardless.

She was glad he was letting himself love her.

He then begged a question. Many to be exact. Aleiia wasnt sure which she should or could answer first.

As she pondering the questions
he begged another.

"Umm...Actually, shouldn't we be going somewhere with privacy?" He asked and she took his hand. "Yes." She said and then tugged him to her favorite place. The Willow Tree.

Once they arrived she smiled as the sun set behind the Willow tree. it was the only tree in the garden, with all the tall grass and wild roses and flowers that bloomed there. "Here. This is my favorite place in all of the world." She said as she climbed the low branch of the willow tree. "And to answer your question. It is not just trees, but all of nature's elements. Fire, Water, Earth as you witnessed, and Air and everything in between." She said, sitting comfortable on the branch, her slippers falling on to the ground below. "I can show you if you like?"

Sebastian exited the changing room with a proud demur, one that is to be expected of someone of his birth right and status. The noble crown of Mjolla Wolvesbane sat nestled on his brawl, Although it may seem strange to some that a man would wear a crown worn by a woman to Kaarviens it was a sign of the connection, a shared history of oppression and distain placed upon them by the Elves.

Mjolla was no more than Aleiia’s age, when she was married to her second husband Croalinus Olccinnius. Already a mother too four son, the elves tried to force Mjolla into giving them her first husband’s land. The woman refused and claimed it was her right to keep the land her sons would inherit one day. Mjolla fired a fierce rebellion and instead of being forced of her land, ended up forcing the Elves out of Kaarviel.

Sebastian walked to the courtyard of the palace, with the usual ores of chatter and greetings addressed to him. He merely bowed his head gently and went on his way towards the tournament field. He couldn't see his daughters of the bat, however he did see little Regan sitting in the royal booth when he reached it.
“Papa!” Regan grinned and rose from her seat.

Sebastian patted the girl on the head and smiled, “Where are your sisters?” he asked and sat down, “and your mother for that matter?” he laughed. True he was a little early, but that was like him, and the fact that he hadn't seen any of his daughters when he left the palace kind of scared him.

Genevieve was no doubt with Desmond, and that in itself was fine, but Matilda and Aleiia. He hadn't seen his older daughters since breakfast. Cordelia he was well aware was away from the fuss of the contest, and he understood her feelings towards the whole mess.

Taking a deep breath he waited for the rest of the family. As little Regan smiled and said with a full amount of energy, "I think Matilda is with Sir Nikolas, he asked for her assistance a while ago."
That in itself was a relief to the King, that Matilda was with a man whom he trusted like a brother. "and Aleiia?" he asked thinking of his eldest daughter.

Regan struggled, "I don't know where she is, but I saw her with an elf not long ago." Regan smiled she had been hiding in a tree the past hour, and saw a few things when no one thought was looking. Like one of the gardeners picking his noise.

Sebastian nodded, "well lets wait a few moments." he said gently.

It would seem that Desdemona had missed her family at breakfast, she had risen too late and thus her husband and daughters seemed to be already going about their business, something which she should also be doing, after all, a banquet wouldn’t organise its self. Luckily the herbs she had taken early had now fully reinvigorated her body, her energy and spirits replenished, she felt as she did twenty summers ago, although she knew it would not last, soon her aches, pains and fatigue would come back and once again she would return to her broken self, still with any luck this wouldn’t happen until this evening and then she could easily excuse herself to retire.

Mona forced down her breakfast, a few rashers of crispy bacon and a small helping of fruit, it was not much but it was all she could handle, besides she would eat plenty this evening at the banquet, or so she told herself. After a rather rushed breakfast, The Queen found herself conversing with the cook over the order in which the feast would be served and a last minute run though of menu, reminding of certain guests food requirements, much to their dismay. Once finished in the kitchens, Mona made her way back up towards the grand hall to advise over decorations and seating, luckily for herself not much was required for her to do, her ladies maids had seen too many of the preparations and everything seemed to be going swimmingly. No doubt throwing another leader into the pot would cause more troubles than it would solve and so she left, leaving the task in their very capable hands. That had been a new experience for Mona, once she had been at the centre of every banquet, gala or tourney, she had always taken control in the preparations and had enjoyed spending days going over every detail with a fine tooth comb, they had been tiring, exhausting in fact but ultimately worth it. This tourney had been one of the first where she had taken a more leisurely role, she still had the ultimate say over the preparations but her daughters and ladies maid had a much larger role this time.

After catching a glimpse at the time, the Queen almost gasped in horror, the tourney would be starting soon and she was not there. She had been planning on changing her gown for the competition but she would not have time now and so with a quick glance in the large, gold gilded leaf mirror, which hung just before the grand staircase, she smoothed down a couple of stray hairs before regaining her regal composure.

It did not take the Queen long to reach the tournament field, as she approached she could already see her husband and youngest daughter, Regan sat in the royal box bringing a happy smile to her features. “Husband” she greeted fondly as she approached, lifting her skirts slightly to climb the wooden steps to their seats, as she reached Sebastian, Mona placed a lingering kiss upon his cheek and took the seat next to him, pulling Regan into her lap as she did so “And how is my youngest sweetling this fine morning?” she asked, beaming with joy at the youngest of her daughters “and where are your other sisters?”

Aleiia rested her head on his shoulder as his arms rested around her shoulder.
"Honestly, these magic and supernatural powers- I do not believe it," he said and she looked up.

So says the elf? She thought with a curiosity risen brow.
"Well, I am saying...I don't understand nor comprehend it. But I must now, won't I?" He continued and Aleiia held up her hand. "It may not be always true, Seeing," She said and her hand began to glow as her brown eyes flashed an fiery amber "Is beliveing." She said as her hand caught fire, it was a slow calm flame, Aleiia was uneffected by it, atleast the one she produced. Other flames however would cause her some harm.

She closed her hand and the flame disappeared. "It's not magic, persay, It's just that my sisters, Mother and I, we are connected to nature. Some even say that the Queen is Mother Nature herself and we are here progeny. Mother believes it is simply a gift from the Goddess Gaia, Mother Earth, why she has gifted us, we do not know but surely we have a purpose as our powers will disappear if we are to marry a man we did not love. It's strange and I can not make the two connect in my mind but that doesn't matter now anyway, For I have found my love." She said smiling up at him.
"Ironically, I've heard it told, that Elves are connected to nature, it's no surprise that you've found yourself here." She said placing a kiss to his shoulder.

"My love, there is something I must confess," Terrowin stared as the sunlight gave his profile an orange hue, alighting his deep brown pools. "I give myself to no being above the stars, no god or goddess." He said and Aleiia smiled. "I dare not fault you for your beliefs, My love, It is simply a matter of opinion. My father believes in God, I believe in the Goddess, You believe in neither, It makes no difference to me." She said. "The goddess doesn't ask for worship, she takes it as it comes. I must say, if it were not for my connection with nature, I would most likely believe as you believe. I trust my eyes, and what I feel, Perhaps you've never felt the Goddess, or God and therefore don't believe and I understand, as I'm sure any God or Goddess would." She said and looked out at the horizon thoughtfully.
"Though honestly, Terrowin," She said. "Who are we to say who is wrong or right? Who is it to say that we are all wrong or all correct." She said. "No one knows for sure, and until the evidence is proven infatically, I say, it matters not." She said and closed her hand around his. "There is no sense in busying yourself with the beliefs of others when there is so much more to life."

Aleiia felt tears slid down her cheek as Terrowin spoke on about his experinces. Her fingers closed around his hands. It pained her to hear of such things. She silently wept for his past, she understood then, why he was the way he was. She'd accepted him before yet did not understand. Now, she did.
"Kings, hard for me to respect them when there are so many childern who starve. Straving and not even seen as subjects but as animals." He said and Aleiia shook her head. "It's not that way here, My father, he has his flaws but he loves his people. Sure not everyone can afford luxuries but he does not tax them, he welcomes trade so the land and it's people prosper. No one, not a one child starves." She said and pulled him to her, resting his head on her chest as she stroked his hair. "I only wish you were born here. That you never experienced such a thing. I am so sorry, Terrowin. I wish there were a way that I could some how right this wrong." She said, her tears evident in her voice as it shuddered and cracks as she spoke. She knew not all kingdoms were like hers. That not all Kings were like her father or Queens as generous as her mother. She'd heard tale that some Queen's were spoiled and their childern, rotten. Her mother raised her and her sisters to be gratful for the land and appreciative of what they have and generous to those without. She would often have them as little girls give their toys to the needy and She, Matlida and Genieve would do so happily. They were unselfish and kind, just as their mother was.

Benedict smiled dutifully and bid his cousin adieu, a bit mystified by the scene unfolding in front of him yet not wishing to be an annoyance or to draw any more attention to himself. Making his farewell he seemed to meld back into the shadows of the castle and once again began his exploration. Ben had spent his entire life being told he was underfoot or that he wasn't allowed here or there, wasn't allowed to do this or that. Instead of listening he instead chose to become hidden. Apparently that was the only way you could find out the truth of things. To be a eavesdropper hidden around the next corner. The rangy youth had no qualms about this; He attempted to live a life of rigorous honesty but just being the son of Beatrice of Kaareviel meant deception at every turn.

Even still he hadn't seen his mother since they’d arrive. She’d claim to need a lie down and time to think, which meant time to plot. Something she didn't care to have his input for. Benedict knew that though he was her son, her only child, which she used as she would a playing piece and that she would use him however she saw fit to right the wrongs she thought done to her. He merely hoped he’d survive. Twenty-three years of being raised by the sisters did that to you, made sure you had no thoughts of rising above your station or getting in over your head. Perhaps that was what had called him to the seminary. It was the only home he’d ever known and now he was thrust into a world of intrigue, tournaments and marriage and he wasn't quite sure he would ever fit in.

By the time he’d arrived at the tournament field he could make out who he figured to be the royal family, though he’d only met one of his cousins so far. There was no sight of his mother and he was immediately unsure and awkward as to what to do with himself. He wasn't entered into the tourney, Benedict had been taught a completely different set of skills and though he was skilled with a bow he held no chance against true knights. Sighing a bit in frustration he found himself a seat among the common people not far from the royal box. His family would meet him soon enough, at least the rest of them would. He was after all still trying to follow his mother’s advice of being discrete but it was hard when one was a young man full of energy and curiosity.

Those years plenty of surrering and stress. It has twisted and straightened me. I have become stronger than the others born of riches. My strength is valued fortunes..." Terrowin and Aleiia closed her eyes, letting the last of her tears fall. "I am sorry." She said, softly. She didn't know what do or say after that, her mood had fallen. She was happy to have found him yet she wasn't quiet sure what she found.

She let the silence linger on. She didn't bother with any more of this talk of pain and suffering and disagreements. This was not what she wanted. Not now, not here. This was her escape from the politics of it all.

She dropped down from the tree branch and sighed as she walked barefooted into the tall grass, allowing the blades to tickle her skin, allowing the wildflowers to fill her lungs with it's fresh scent. It was something she often did she was upset. Not anger, just upset. There was only a subtle difference in the two but still.

Aleiia stood in the brush, smoothing the soft flower petals between her fingers.

She did not turn to face Terrowin as he approached her. A cool breeze crawled up her skin, rising bumps along her arms.

"I do not care anymore, I shall confess" He said and she continued looking at the flowers. "I do not care about rulers, kings or even politics. I only care about you." He said so sternly that Aleiia froze. She turned her head to him slowly. Her eyes fell on his porcelain skin, golden hair and deep brown eyes. She looked away, wrapping her arms around herself, protecting herself from the cool air and the coldness of her mood.

"I care for you, Terrowin." She began. "But it is my father you speak ill of. He has his faults, there is no denying that but he is my father and I love him." She said sadly. Her and Her father were close. Her being his first born, he took her everywhere with him. It still was true today. So for him to be spoken about in this manner but the only other man as important to her as her father. It was taxing.
Was she to choose between them? It was hardly fair.

Aleiia turned sharply. Her eyes wide and filled with fear and sorrow as she watched his back.

He was leaving her...
"Gaia...please no...

"Maybe you belong to some rich duke, and not some solider raised as a poor boy..."

"Terrowin!" She cried, a pained cry as if she'd be shot through the heart with an arrow. She ran as fast as her feet could carry her until she ran squared into hid back and wrapped her arms around him.

"Don't leave me please!" She cried, never has she cried like this before, even when she broke her arm in three places she never cried, but faced with Terrowin walking away from her, no broken limb could ever be as painful as a broken heart.

"You are where I belong." She sobbed into his back.

"I said my father has his faults. He is not perfect, but who is? I do not think of his faults, as I do not think of yours." She sobbed, clutching tighter.

"Please, my Terrowin, I never lie. I can not lose you." She said and it was true. She never lied. Ever. Under any circumstances.
She could find ways around it as she did with the guard but never did she outright lie.

"I need you, Terrowin, please don't leave me." She cried, her legs feeling weak underneath her.

Sebastian rose as his wife entered the box, she seemed happy and smiley, as she kissed his cheek. Yet he couldn’t help but feel as if she was mad at him, for some reason. She did look beautiful though, just as she always did. “You look ravishing my love.” He spoke as she sat in the chair besides his, and with that he sat back down and kissed her hand. This vow of Celibacy she had was killing him; he wanted so badly to remain how things always were, however Sebastian did understand why his wife, thought it was necessary.

Regan giggled as her mother lifted her up on the large throne into her lap. “I’m rather good mother.” She smiled giving her a small hug, “However, after conversing with Sir Reginald, I discovered he is mildly racists, I just can’t be near such a person don’t you agree?” she looked at her mother with pleaded eyes, hoping she’d play along in her little game.

Regan watched as the first knights started to the course, and sighed. “I don’t know where they are, Matilda was with Sir Nikolas, but I don’t know where the other are.” She grinned and looked back to her mother.

“I left Genevieve with Prince Desmond.” Sebastian said to his Queen. Despite common belief Sebastian wasn’t in actuality King of Caldomaa he ruled Kaarviel, and a few islands of its coast, but Desdemona was the true Ruler of Caldomaa. Sebastian’s full title which he never uses is; Sebastain of Kaarveil King of The North, Consorte of Caldomaa.

“I pray Aleiia won’t be long, she typically isn’t this late. I would send someone, but she Regan said Sir Nikolas is with Matilda.” He hoped either of his daughters were not being swept by kind words, he needed them to be strong and not terry to emotions when picking a suitor. Dishonest men could use that to their advantage.

Deleted

Aleiia felt him grasp her arms and turn to her. Her eyes found his as he spoke.
"All is well." He said, only a kiss away. "I am not leaving, you may not understand my history, but at least now you know." He said and then his lips met hers. It was a passionate kiss, soft and filled with emotions neither of the two could express with words. She embraced his kiss, her eyes closed and her head tilted as her arms rose around his neck.

Just as before all time ceased for just a moment and all she was aware of was the feel of Terrowin's lips to hers.

Then it struck her.

She was late.

She had to force herself to pull away from the kiss. Her eyes still closed as she caught her breath. "I have to go...I was to meet my family..." She said with a small smile, her eyes finally opened but still half lidded. "Meet me here after sun down, before the feast?" She asked him, having a hard time keeping herself from kissing him again.

Aleiia raced back to the palace. She stopped just at the marble stairs. A smile grew on her face as she ascended the stairs. She walked into the place and made her way to her chambers.

Once there, she found herself another gown, a deep emerald that complimented her skin complexion perfectly. Her hair had become quite wild, having had Terrowin's fingers through it.
She brushed out her long black-brown hair and let it cascade down her back. She set a regal circlet atop her head. She smiled at her reflection, deeming it perfect and then made her way toward the banquet hall to meet with her family.

She found her Father and Mother and baby sister already there. She grinned with a graceful bow to her mother and father. "Hello Mother, Hello Father. I apologize for my tardiness. I got caught up at the Willow Tree...again." She said. She always had a habit of losing track of time when she was at the Willow Tree. Though she'd sort of broken out of that habit, it wasn't completely broken.

"Hello Regan, How are you and Sir Reginald?" She said taking a seat beside her, running a finger over the little ringlets in her hair. Something she's always done.

Nikolas’s hand brought Matilda to face him, with a touch that seemed too gentle for such calloused hands, but then again she supposed his manners echoed those of his soul, for Nikolas was a gentle and just man. Do not be mistaken he was also a feared man, one of the fiercest men in the entire Kingdom, even now men told stories about his bravery in battle, his fierceness and loyalty to his King and realm and yet he did not like killing, he didn’t cause pain because he wanted, he did it because he had to for the sake of the lands he call home. His name would pass into legend, this Matilda was sure.

The more her blue hues studied her champion, the more she saw a King and the thought ignited hope within her. It was no secret that she desired the throne, Mattie wanted to be Queen, she believed she could be a good ruler, loving and just to her people, yet fierce and hardened to her enemies and with this man by her side as King of Caldomaa and Kaareviel they would make the greatest rulers the known world had ever known.

Matilda inwardly winced at her own words, she was a gentle soul, that was true, but it was thoughts such as those which proved she was her father’s daughter. She did not hide her desire to rule, like Aleiia did, she did not mask it behind her façade of ‘whatever will be, will be.’ Or hide it behind her intelligence such as Genevieve-no- she voiced what she believed, if she didn’t who would know? She would not be a woman who sat by, it was a man’s world that was certain, however you could not spell woman without it. Honestly this side of her scared her at times, it proved she was not a gentle wall flower, there was something within her that stirred and threatened to boil over.

His words were touching, she found herself smiling along with them as she absorbed every word, digesting their sincerity, here stood a man before her, pledging to become her champion, one of the greatest men in the entire Kingdom and for that she felt truly blessed by the gods. Although, Mattie had to be sure that he knew what he was getting himself into, this was not only a competition for one of the princesses but also a competition for two Kingdoms. “Nikolas, please be sure of your words before you speak anymore. If you win you shall become King someday and this is not something to be taken lightly. I do not want to force you into something that you do not want to do; I could not bear to see you miserable.” Mattie spoke softly, her hand coming to rest on the hollow of his cheek “I would rather marry a barbarian from the Northern Hills than become a burden to you.”

Sebastian grinned as his eldest daughter entered the Royal Box. That was one more added to the company yet still missing two, and of course there was the case of Sir Nikolas whom he didn’t like not having a few yards away. “It is good that you decided to make an appearance Aleiia.” He spoke in his low regal voice.

As he spoke Regan looked at her eldest sister and smiled, “I was just telling mother, I am no longer speaking to Sir Reginald, I’ve discovered he is mildly racists agents elves.” She shook her head disappointed.

“It’s too bad too, Sir Reginald and Lady Fluffybotton would have had such a marvelous Wedding.” She pouted, “Now he’s going to end up with that lupa, Mushy Sexopants.” Regan was aware she said a horrible word in front of her parents but it didn’t hit her till her father slapped her across the face.

“Watch your tongue, young lady!” Sebastian said in an angry voice.

“Sorry papa…” Regan said rubbing her cheek with her hand,

Sebastain looked to his eldest again, “Have you seen your sisters Aleiia?” he asked gently, looking to gather any information he could on Matilda and Nikolas’ whereabouts.

"It is good that you decided to make an appearance, Aleiia." Her father spoke and Aleiia dropped her head. His tone was not a happy one.
"I'm sorry, Father." She muttered queitly. It was then Regan spoke. "I was just telling Mother, I am no longer speaking to Sir Reginald, I've discovered he is mildly racists against elves" Aleiia visbly flinched. Did she see her and Terrowin? How much did she see? Would she speak of it to their parents? Regan had alwayd been a curious little bugger and while Aleiia adored that about her, it would work against her now.

Suddenly, Regan was struck disciplinly by their father. Aleiia missed what Regan had said.


Her father looked at her again. "Have you seen your sisters, Aleiia?" He asked softly. Aleiia thought it over. "Cordelia was in her chambers the last I saw her." She said. "I'm sorry, I haven't seen Matlida or Geneieve all day." she said and it was strange. She typically would see Mattie. They were very close, best friends ever, given they are to two Eldest. Matlida only second behind her.

She wondered what Mattie would think when she told her about her Elven Knight, Terrowin.

The words shook Nikolas' soul: he did not want power, he did not want status, he had already received so much that to ask for more would indulge greed. The only thing he wanted right then was princess Matilda, or at the very least a chance to be her one and only. But with Matilda came power, a force so evanescent yet so dangerously potent -- shattering kingdoms and bringing men to their knees if taken in too much. He was happy where he was, and who he had become, and he was torn telling himself these things as he stared down at the princess, getting lost in her eyes.

Deep down, Nikolas had doubts for his potential as king. He had no noble background, no prestige lineage that he could trace to the days where knights in gold armor rode across sunset fields saving towns and rescuing priests. He left the glamorous presentation to the noble folk, for in the army there was nothing but true grit to test a man. He was a knight, but he rode across black fields of bodies -- maimed and mutilated, no sun to illuminate the sins hidden beneath tall grass, only fire. Nikolas knew little to nothing about politics, he was too blunt, his word spoken too dull and brevity moved his personality every step of the way. There was no room for charisma in there, only the truth. His leadership skills were akin to the grit of the people who served under him, and that did not leave any room for sympathy or slacking, lest they be punished severely. He could be a cruel leader, and that scared Nikolas. The captain was an earthly man, live simply and die simply. Love simply, or find love simply. Becoming king was not something that just came by 'simply'.

“Nikolas, please be sure of your words before you speak anymore. If you win you shall become King someday and this is not something to be taken lightly. I do not want to force you into something that you do not want to do; I could not bear to see you miserable.”

But for her, he could change. In the very least he would try. He felt a touch, a princess' touch on his cheek, soft and delicate yet affirmed like the woman who stood before him. He felt dirty, allowing his personal desires to overcome his duty to the kingdom and his belief in the rightful search for a true leader. But had he not earned the right to finally seize some peace? He knew he could be a just ruler like Sebastien. He would need guidance from a softer heart but it could be done. Something in Nikolas ignited, setting aflame a new found sense of determination. If the path to kingship is what must be done, then it must be done. He placed his hand over Matilda's gently, feeling the warmth of her skin.

"I've never been so sure of anything in my life princess," his words were soft, matching the touch of her hand.

Trumpets resonated in the distance, a signal of the tourney.

Mona smiled at her husband’s greeting, even after all the years of marriage Sebastian still had this way of making her feel like the only woman in the world, his green eyes shone with adoration and love, his kiss light and feathery against her cheek. Desdemona had been incredibly lucky to marry Seb, he was her best friend, lover and soul mate and despite the odds their marriage was one of pure love and devotion, something she wanted more than anything for her daughters. Regan shifted in her mother’s lap, gaining her attention as she spoke, playing along with her daughter Mona gasped as revelations about Sir Reginald’s racism came to light “How very naughty off him! I hope you told him that racism would not be tolerated in this kingdom, little dove?” Mona warned lightly, falling into her daughters imaginary game, she had been warned about doing so, people had said that it would make her unsociable and a outcast, but one look into her darlings eyes melted all apprehension.

“Sir Nikolas you say?” Mona asked curiously with a quip of her eyebrow, she liked the commander of the guard, he was a good and loyal person, truly dedicated to her family and the realm, although it did intrigue her what her daughter and Nikolas were doing together, usually he dealt with her husband.

Sebastian revealed their other daughters whereabouts, beginning with Genevieve and Mona frowned at that, she had heard rumours of Prince Desmond’s scandalous reputation and she did not know how she felt about her daughter being alone in his presence. “I wish you wouldn’t have done that my love, maybe we could send someone to retrieve her? She should be here now anyway” Mona spoke as softly as she could.

Aleiia hurried up the step to the royal box, making Mona smile with motherly pride, her eldest looked stunningly beautiful “you look lovely dear” she cooed. Mona found herself looking behind them for any sign of their other daughters, a small frown appearing on her lips, they could not hold off the tournament much longer.

---

---

"I've never been so sure of anything in my life princess," Nikolas had spoken so tenderly that Matilda could have mistaken him for poet. His words brought a bright smile to her reddened smile, happiness emanated from the princess, had she found a man who would love her until her dying day? Possibly rule alongside her, not as her lord but as her equal. The man who would father her children and bring her more joy and love than she had ever expected; all this she read from the sincerity in his eyes, she her future his brown orbs and if she was correct it would be blissful.

“That makes me the happiest woman in the whole of Caldomaa” Mattie murmured upon a heavy breath, his lips were so close to hers, luring her forward, they were a mere inches apart when the trumpets sounded in the background. Pulling back slightly, Matilda chuckled lightly, taking his hand in her own she placed a gentle kiss upon his flesh “I should go, my family will be waiting and you must go compete” she sighed not wanting to leave, but her absence would be noted and didn’t particularly feel up her parents scolding.

Leaning forward once again, her lips lightly brushed his earlobe as her breath nipped at his neck “good luck, my love” she whispered lightly, her lips coming swiftly to his own in their first kiss, sweet and tender yet far too quick. Pulling back Mattie, smiled “Win for me” she muttered wanting nothing more than to be enveloped in his strong arms and skip the tourney but they would just have to make do for with that kiss for now.

The swan squawked, gaining her attention, turning to the bird Mattie frowned slightly “I’m sorry little dear,” she cooed, gathering what she would need to wrap the bird wing, it didn’t take long and soon the birds wing was bandaged accordingly “there all done, now you stay here until someone comes back to take you home.”

Trumpets sounded again as she turned back to Nikolas “I really must go” she sighed as she walked towards the door, her breathing slightly hitched as she gazed upon her champion “until this afternoon” Mattie smiled, as she swiftly walked out the door, any slower and she would have ran the risk of being pulled back to him and only the god know what would have happened. Never had a man had such an effect on the pretty princess, he made her stomach flutter with nerves, made her cheeks blush and make her heart pound. New developments but all very welcomed.

It did not take her long to reach the tournament grounds, she had practically ran through the palace only stopping when she saw the royal box before her, regaining her composure Mattie climbed the steps “I am so very sorry” she apologised to her parent, placing a gentle kiss to both of their cheeks “I had a swan emergency” she spoke truthfully as she sat down in the chair next to Aleiia, grinning at her older sister “and just where have you been all morning?”

Aleiia smiled as Matilda arrived and took a seat beside her.
"And just where have you been all morning."
Aleiia gripped her sister's hand with a grin.

"At the Willow tree of course, Where have you been?" She asked back. She always could see the look in Ser Nicholas' eye when he saw Matlida, and if she was with him all morning, what with the contest going on, perhaps he'd finally confessed his love for her. 'How Romantic~!' She thought as she gave a sister a gentle squeeze.

"We have to talk, dear sister," Aleiia whispered. "I have so much to tell you." She said with a hushed giggle, just as the festivites were being prepared before them.

She knew it was going to be hard to see Terrowin and not press her lips against his the moment they saw but she will have to. She only hoped he had more restraint.

She couldn't wait for the ball, where all the suitors were to meet with the princesses. Terrowin would be there and they could dance. She hoped no one else would to dance with her. Specifically, Prince Desmond. He was handsome that was for sure but scandalous, aside from the fact that Terrowin might just kill him.

A small smirk tugged her lips. That would be funny...a little.

Regan, smiled to her mother and said slyly, “I most certainly did, however he just didn’t take my advice.” She snuffed gently, feeling sadness for her no-longer friend. Perhaps she was growing up, getting over childish things. Then again on a more cynical note, perhaps she was just becoming sane.

Sebastian smiled as his daughter Matilda entered the box. “Well that’s almost all of our daughters my dear.” He said looking to his wife, with a slight chuckle as she remarked on her opinion of Desmond’s character. Even though Sebastian didn’t share the same opinion on Desmond, after twenty so years of marriage he knew better than to say she was wrong.
“Well yes, you are right my dear.” He said and kissed her hand once more. Sebastian looked over his shoulder to call a servant to him. “Fetch Princess Genevieve,” he said “and if Prince Desmond is still with her inform him of the contest.” The king said and sent the servant on his way without another word or thought.

Regan jumped down from her mother’s lap as the festival began. “Oooo…” she gasped, looking at a night at the far end of the field getting up to joust. “It’s The Knight of Samerstand!” she squawked. The Knight of Samestand was hardly a noble character; he was a murderous barbarian, who pillaged the northern end of Caldomaa for years. His real name isn’t known, but it is said he is descended from nobility.

“He’s so awesome!” Regan pounced, “he fought a whole town once with nothing but a rusty butter knife!” she grinned proud of herself. “I need his autograph!” she yelped.

Deleted

Nikolas watched her go. He stood there alone, encapsulated by the whole moment. It wouldn't be lying to say he was dizzy, but such was the aftermath when a beautiful lady touches lips with yours. It was quick, but the effect was still there. Such a whisper of sensual emotion, but tangible enough to drive even the most stalwart of men mad for more. The effect Matilda gave Nikolas was overwhelming, and he had trouble focusing during those few seconds by himself. All those poems and sonnets the captain casually read before had all remained an enigmatic script until now. He thought it was strange for any man to feel this way, for he firmly believed that a man was was only measured in what he could amount to in himself. Matilda's kiss struck him so deeply, left not a wound but a piercing desire to secure a place in her heart. Something tugged at him, pushing him off the edge and towards the leaving princess to stop her and plan an escape from all the royal faculties and charge. To run away from it all and to live simply, away from the stress of the world. That dream saddened him, and reality hit like a brick wall with the squawking of a swan. He frowned, turning to the animal.

"And I suppose you'd have a better idea?" he said bitterly, scooping up the injured swan in his arms and walking out of the herbal office.

He walked down the halls of the great castle, and as he did time knew no presence, the world appeared as a great big blur vying for the next time he and the princess would have time together. Everything seemed so routine at that point, the courtesy greetings by fellow guards and his nodding response. The lively atmosphere of the festivities seemed empty to him, and he couldn't explain why. And once again he didn't pay heed to the confused onlooking of passersby when they saw an injured swan tucked under his arm. The festivities had already commenced Nikolas noted, given away by the pleasant smells and typical noble indulgence of the people around him. He had to find Ser Gregoir to give him supervision duty for the time being while he was competing.

Nikolas was never lost, but with the sudden surge of many people it was hard to get around. He made way to one of the central guard towers, assuming Gregoir would be there. On his way he was already met with a drunken brawl, but guards were already hot in stopping the commotion. Just like any grand scale event he expected all of his men to be at their best, and so far they did not leave room for doubt. The large oak door into the guard tower creaked as Nikolas opened it, and he entered, seeing Gregoir leaning over a table of maps and castle schematics. Around him were several officers and higher ranks Nikolas knew personally. Gregoir looked up from his maps and towards Nikolas, snapping at attention and grunting: commander in the presence. All the bodies in the room stood at attention.

"As you were," Nikolas said waving them off. The room went back to their typical duties. Nikolas head straight for Gregoir, and he already see the old knight frowning because of the beast tucked under Nikolas' arm.

"Glad you could join us ser," Gregoir said, and with that he went straight to business, "So far there hasn't been anything significant. The tourney's about to start and we haven't seen any sign of foul play. . . yet. If Sebastien would have damned let our engineers build an enclosed royal box I would be a lot more comfortable right now. . . but.. ."

Nikolas interrupted, "Then there wouldn't be much of seeing the festivities down below, would there Gregoir?" the captain grinned.

"I suggested a two inch arrow slit on all sides -- builders laughed me off," Gregoir replied with a straight face, "Fools,".

Nikolas chuckled, "Divert the crowds into these areas, have Jerald and Rickey bring their men to the left and right quarter-zone respectively. Get some men on horses patrolling the outskirts, presence keeps the peace, remember?"

The captain plopped the swan on the ground, he leaned over, resting his hands on the table, looking up at Gregoir.

"Gregoir, there is a favor I need to ask of you,"

Gregoir groaned, "Ser, the last time you spoke to me like this I nearly had my arm torn off by wolves because of your little escapade with that blonde barkeep, what is it this time?"

Nikolas blinked, feeling guilty, and spoke, "I'm competing in the tourney. I need you to take over supervising in my absence,"

The old knight stared at Nikolas blankly, "Is this about the princess?".

Nikolas nodded, "It's all about her,".

Nikolas could see the old knight sigh. Had this come as a surprise? The captain was unsure. It wasn't like Gregoir was unbeknownst to his feelings towards Matilda. Just up until now they had not come into full fruition.

"I hope you know what you're getting into," Gregoir replied, tugging at his grey beard, "I'll take your place up in the royal box, just. . ." he paused, "Think this through. I've never seen you as a man to be so easily swayed simply because of a woman,"

"It's not that simple, Gregoir," was all Nikolas could say.

"Women never are," the veteran said, "Keep the horizon in front of you," was all he said, referencing a common motto during both their time in Caldomaa's cavalry.

Nikolas did not say anything, he nodded, turned and walked out of the tower. There was preparation to be done.

***

Gregoir's old figure entered the royal box. He had done a bit of polishing to his appearance a bit prior, but there was nothing that would stop his appearance to betray the weathered exterior of an old soldier. The royal family sat comfortably there, and Regan was making a fuss over a man from Semastand. Titles confused Gregoir at times, what was the importance of a name to a dead man? He walked to the king and queen discretely, not allowing his presence to interrupt their view of the festivities.

"My King, my Queen," Gregoir said to each respectively, "Princess Alleia, Matilda, Regan," he nodded. He turned to Sebastian, "Nikolas is with the men briefing them on the tourney grounds, he asked me to be you sword," the old knight bowed his head in respect. He was unsure if either queen or king knew that Nikolas was competing, so he didn't speak of such.

And with that, his introduction was over. He stood at watch like a sentinel, taking up Nikolas' mantle in protecting the family for the time being.

Sebastian looked from his wife to the two soldiers who entered the box. The one was Gregoir, the old winkled veteran looked tired from standing as he approached the box. The man’s words surprised Sebastian. “Shouldn’t Sir Nikolas done this before the festivities began?” he asked seriously starting to doubt his captain of the guard’s intention. He wasn’t blind, he knew there was some spark between Nikolas and Matilda but he had always hoped it wouldn’t affect his ability to do his job. A thought he was seriously starting to doubt.

“Very well Gregoir, if you do a good job today perhaps you may see a promotion in your future.”

Looking to his wife he asked her, “what do you think my love, is Sir Gregoir’s words true?” he used a title he was thinking of for the man. He didn’t recall knighting him, of course the man was so old perhaps Desdemona’s father had done that honor. Sebastian chuckled at the thought of the old solder, young and youthful. Maybe he was being vain, or over pretentious but the man had that sort of funny face, one in which you just want to laugh at.

“That reminds me, where is jester…” he looked around for the funny man, who always gave him bad news.

"Honk! Honk!" a voice peeked out form behind the tapestry. "You rang, you Magistracy."

Sebastian laughed, as the silly man began to juggle. "What a silly man." he remarked.

Aleiia grinned as Gregoir came over to the Royal Box. She knew immediately that Ser Nikolas was competing. She didn't know how her father would feel about it.

Just then, the court jester appeared. Aleiia didn't want to be rude so she smiled and clapped as he danced about like the fool he was, but honestly she found it rather irritating.

She scanned the knights that where preparing to joust. She frowned she couldn't find her pointed eared knight. Oh, Terrowin where are you, my love?" She thought as the barbarian was up. He roared as he boarded his horse, his gaze met hers and he grinned a yellow toothed-grin and raised his lance to up as if to say it was for her. Aleiia looked Matlida. "Ew." She whispered as he slid on his helmet. Aleiia looked at her father then back to the court. Just then the barbarian, charged forth, his horse kicking up dust as he ran around on his horse, grabbed one of the many flowered rings with his lance, he hooked it easily and circled the court and stopped at the royal box. "For you, Milady." He said holding up the ring of flowers. It was a traditional game and maybe before Terrowin, she would have been slightly flattered but now...
She grabbed the ring with a gentle nod and a forced smile.
Where is Terrowin? She said and sat back, and nervously looked at her mother and father, just as the barbarian rode off.

"For me..." She said somewhat sarcastically, holding up the ring of flower and sighed. This was gonna be a long day.

(I got this game from Merlin BBC, the knight's played it when Gwen was crowned Queen)

As more went on, thankfully only a few more gave her rings. Matilda received alot. She was glad for that but she knew that Ser Nikolas had feelings for her and hoped he'd joust for her too. Where was Genieve? She would surely receive some rings as well. One knight gave a ring to Regan, Aleiia thought curiously on that but he seemed to do it only to make the little princess smile and to swoon her older sisters, with his 'sensitivity.'

Aleiia noticed a tinted skinned Elf walk in and it was all she had not to run to him or cheer his name. She managed to keep her face fair and even as she watched him. She wondered if he'd be able to do this with his injuries, he said he'd come to compete but his injuries could prove difficult, especially with one of her suitors being the barbarian, The Knight of Samestand.

The room had gotten pretty silent after her father left, Desmond not speaking another word since then. She herself did not mind really, it just meant she really didn't need to try and start a conversation. Not that she wanted to in the first place. The young girl cleared her throat just a little, she couldn't help but to feel as if she had forgotten about something. Finally she sighed, getting up from her seat, but just as she did so, a servant came into the room.

"Excuse me, Princess Genevieve," they said, "but your father had sent me to fetch you to watch the contest.' The servant looked over to Desmond, "I've also been told to inform you of the contest, the festivities are beginning."

Genevieve knew now what she was forgetting, the contest, she was suppose to be there as well to watch. Though she more than likely, wasn't going to. "Alright, I will take myself there, you may escort Prince Desmond there. I'm sure he doesn't know where it he is to go." She said with a slight nod of her head towards the servant, whom did the same.

With a quick curtsied to the Prince, she made her way out the door and down the long corridor. But before even walking out of the castle, she stopped at the library to grab a book. It only took a moment of her browsing through everything, till she found something. A fairy tale, that would suffice wonderfully. After that, she made her way to the contest grounds.

It wasn't long until she made it, book in hand, she entered the royal booth. Most of her sisters were there, and both her parents as well. "Sorry I am late," she said, taking her seat, "I had almost forgotten about this.. contest." Genevieve sighed and opened up the book in her hand.

"I do hope it can be somewhat entertaining," she spoke softly, "at least better than the Jester."

The grip of Aleiia’s hand in her own caused Mattie to grin, obviously her dear sister had something to tell her, something new and exciting and quite possibly a little bit scandalous. However her reply was anything but, "At the Willow tree of course, Where have you been?" Aleiia played coy, not giving to much away but her smiled caused Matilda to think that there was definitely more going on “Alone?” Matilda pressed quirking her eyebrow before continuing, “I have been seeing to a swan problem that Sir Nikolas bestowed upon us” she chuckled lightly her thoughts once again drifting off towards her handsome knight.

"We have to talk, dear sister…I have so much to tell you." Aleiia spoke in a hushed giggle stirring Matilda from her day dream. Mattie looked at her sister with a bemused expression, she knew it! There was something going on with her, perhaps with one of the contestants or maybe someone else entirely; she stopped speculating, there was no use of getting ahead of herself, “yes, me too” she gushed in a similar tone “but let us wait until later, I don’t want mother or father to hear.”

When Ser Gregoir entered the royal box Mattie’s heart swelled and it became increasingly difficult to keep the smile from her face, there would be only one reason for Ser Gregoir to be sat up here with them and that would be if Nikolas was competing. She had not doubted his words but a slight nervousness had been present and nagging doubts of ‘what if he changes his mind’ had plagued her mind for a little while, however this confirmation made her heart soar and her eyes immediately trying to spot him upon the field.

---

Mona smiled brightly as Sebastian agreed to her request to send a Knight for their daughter Genevieve “Thank you, dear” she cooed as he placed a loving kiss upon her hands. Suddenly Regan jumped from her lap, becoming excited about one of the Knight who was to compete; with a velvety laugh the Queen shook her head at her daughter’s amazement over the man. “Is that so?” Mona enquired, wondering how her youngest daughter had stumbled upon this information, no doubt one of her sisters were to blame, in a attempt to scare the youngest they had unwittingly given Regan a new admirer. “You shall get it later my love, now sit down, I don’t want you too close to the edge.”

Finally Genevieve hurried into the royal box, "Sorry I am late…I had almost forgotten about this… contest." Mona’s second youngest apologised. “Do not worry about it dear” she smiled “I do hope Prince Desmond was not too intolerable?” Mona asked a slight frown appearing upon her lips, she did not like that boy and the fact that he was a favourite for Sebastian just made her blood crawl, his reputation was too scandalous that it did not matter that he was a Prince, Mona did not want him around any of her children.

Sebastian watched at the tournament began, as the knight showed his daughters their skills in a good joust. They tried to flatter them with little rings and such and a part of the King smiled, as he thought of the silly Caldomaaen games he had some to understand. In Kaarviel a man wouldn't be caught dead trying to beg for a ladies attention. However Sebastian felt these knights actions were more based on greed then anything else.

Regan looked at the ring a knight had given her and grinned proudly, It was great fun and gently sat back down as her mother asked her to. "I don't like sitting down." she grumbled and crossed her arms gently. "it's so tedious." she complained.

The King looked to his wife and muttered something as Sir Gregor entered the box. "Do you think Matilda can look past her feelings for Sir Nikolas and even think of another mate?" he spoke sounding as if her was talking about breeding wolfhounds or something. As Sir Gregor informed of Sir Nikolas' tardiness he sighed knowing the old man was partly lying to him. "Wouldn't Sir Nikolas have been briefing the men before the festival even began?" he asked cooked eyed knowing something was up.

He hadn't even really noticed Genevieve enter the box, however Regan did and stood up in the most respectful way and asked her elder sister what she was reading. "Is it the story of the median and the Selkie?" she asked her eyes wide open.

Aleiia giggled some. Oh she just they'd be together! She was so happy for them. "Alright. After the Feast." She whispered and watched as Terrowin mounted his steed. She caught his smirk and returned him one of her own. She gripped her sister's hand lightly as if to say 'this is what I was talking about.'

She watched him closely as he prepared for his match. She was ever aware of her father's presence so she was sure to keep her pride and excitement from her face.

Soon the match commenced and Terrowin was the victor. It took all she had not to rise from her seat amd cheer his name. She just clapped like she did for all the victors but she couldn't wait for him to bring her the flowered ring. Maybe her hand could brush his. She craved his touch, even only for a small brush.

She watched with a smile as he politely held out his hand to hid fallen opponent who seemed to want nothing to do with it. She couldn't hear either of them but the barbarian's body language was not one of a good sportsmen. "Babaric..." She muttered under her breath.

Regan's mouth dropped her hero, the man she idled and adored lay defeated. "No, bloody way." she whimpered silently as she stood up from her seat once more and leaned over the edge. It wasn't possible her idle, the man who slaughtered hundreds with a rusty butter knife lay defeated in a joust. "Sir Reginald would remark on the elf of course." she said in her fancy voice, "but I am not sir Reginald." she said and lowered her head a slight tear in her eye.

Sebastian took notice of his youngest daughter's tears and gently stood from his seat and helped the young girl out of the box too her nurse maid. "Take her where she can collect herself." he told the servant and sat back down in his chair. Looking at each of his remaining daughters he asked, "what do you think of this young knight?" he asked referring to Terrowin. "He seems eager, if not over ambitious."

next opponent was a member of the Knights of Kardellia, and secret order devout in retaining the royal bloodline's honer. A Order sworn to follow only the true rulers of Kaarviel and Caldomaa and not any other pretenders.

Aleiia looked over at Regan as she spoke. "No, bloody way." the young girl spoke. Aleiia simply shook her head. "Sir Reginald would remark on the elf of course. She said and Aleiia held a look as is she was gonna smack the child but she didn't, she just looked ahead. "But I am not sir Reginald." she said and Her father sent her away to collect her bearings.

"What do you think of this young knight?" Her Father asked and Aleiia felt her heart stop. How to answer this question....Oh Gaia help me...what am I going to say?"
"He seems eager, if not over ambitious." He added and Aleiia looked over at him.

If she could only find the words to describe her Terrowin.

"He seems quite formible and a good sportsman." Aleiia said. "Good Qualities in a knight." She added factually.

Eyes laid upon the book, reading each line, her eyes going back and forth vigorously. Upon hearing her mother's voice, however, she stopped and gave the woman her upmost attention. "I suppose not all too bad," she commented, "though he was rather silent so there wasn't too much that I needed to tolerate of him." With that said, her eyes lay back in the book.

Soon after, she was spoken to by a young female. It was Reagan, curious of the material she was reading over. Her gaze went up and over to the small child, her lips forming a slight smile. "If you would very well like to know," Genevieve moved the book and patted her lap, "you can sit with me. I would not mind reading it to you." Before there was even a chance, the young girl seemed upset, and when she herself looked she saw Reagan's idol defeated and upon the ground.

Genevieve could not understand her young sister's affection for such a brute. The girl could only shake her head and look back down. Things within the pages were much more interesting than what was going on around her. At least in a book she was never bored.

A sigh escaped through the young princesses lips. Once again she was torn away from what she enjoyed most, only to look upon the grounds to the two knights. "Honestly," she spoke, looking back down, "I've no opinion at all."

The docks were breezy, the grunts and cursed murmurs of the veteran sailors spiking the air with a childish hostility Nikolas had become all to familiar with. It would be lying to say he didn't miss the place, the beaten shanty zone that him and his father spent the majority of their time living in. Now with his new status the only thing that kept Nikolas shackled to that place was his mother and sister. Memories with his father on the docks and tending to the sails singed at his core. Some days he would sit outside of the Lysander shack, and some days he could have sworn seeing his father fixing a net or hoisting the sails on a ship. It never turned out to be true. Nikolas could not allow himself to believe his father was still alive. Only fools cling on to false hope.

His sister Aeryn was in the dirt alley that led to the entrance of their little shack. She ran about, whacking at the stray cats that littered the place and sending them scurrying about, meowing in confusion. Aeryn was a girl that could keep herself entertained with anything, and while that proved very useful out her on the boring docks, it could sometimes make Aeryn way too much to handle for his mother. Aeryn perked up, sighting Nikolas walking towards her. She always loved the frequent visits from her brother. He was the only gateway connecting her shanty life to the royal castle.

"Nikolas!" she exclaimed excitingly, throwing her stick to the ground and running towards her older brother. A smile washed over Nikolas' face, snagging her mid-air as she jumped towards him and spinning her around.

"Dear sister," he grinned, holding her at eye level after a moment, "You look wonderful,"

She gave him a small pat on the cheek, emulating a childish slap, "Liar,"

He was lying. Aeryn's face was dirt ridden, her dress covered in soot and soaked permanently with the scent of seawater. It wasn't that their mother was incapable of adequately addressing Aeryn's hygienic needs, more or less being because of Aeryn's refusal to take care of herself. She revelled in the dock-life. It was a calling gifted with freedom in exchange for material wealth. Nikolas might have revelled in it too if not for her position in the castle. His stomach sank for a moment, he wondered what Matilda would think of their quaint run-down shack by the seaside. The thought was silenced as Nikolas plopped Aeryn on the ground.

"Is mother inside?" he asked standing up and brushing himself off. Simply being in the dock area made his clothes dirty.

"Yes, she's making food!" she replied, running into the shack the Lysander's called home. Nikolas was sure there was no way to contain his sisters excitement. It threatened to burst at any moment. He wondered how his mother Anne was able to contain such a fiery girl.

The inside of the shack was one room. Big enough to house the necessities but not enough to teeter on the border of spacious. Each corner had an essential, a kitchen in one, a double bed in another, then a fireplace and a trap door leading to the basement. They didn't need a bathroom inside since there was one just down the alleyway that they were using just fine. Dead center in the middle of the shack was the worn dinner table, an artifact attesting to Aeryn and Nikolas' fathers craftsmanship. His mother Anne was by the kitchen set in the corner of the room, stirring a giant pot that was probably tonights food. As soon as Nikolas stepped into the shack she turned to face him. Both her eyes were milky white, a common symptom for blindness, but not even that could stop her from sensing when her son came back.

"Nikolas," she said softly, "You're back,"

"Did you not think I would return?" he smiled, walking up to her and placing a kiss on her forehead.

She shrugged, going back to stirring the pot. Her blind eyes stared forward through the window ahead of her, "Sometimes I think the castle holds more than what I can give you. If there is nothing here to make you come back, than why would you, hmm?"

"Exactly, why would I?" Nikolas grinned, grabbing to bowls and spoons and placing them on the table. Aeryn had already gotten her bowl and was awaiting eagerly at the promise of delicious food, Nikolas shrugged, "But there's plenty here to make me come back, since neither of you won't move into the castle with me,"

Anne smiled, bringing the pot over and setting it in the middle of the table. She smiled and cupped Nikolas' cheek with one hand.

"My dear boy, let's eat,"

The Lysander family, once again reunited ate their meal. Nikolas had to cram the food particularly fast because of the tourney and all, but that didn't stop him from acknowledging how delicious it was. Well into the meal Nikolas was wondering how he would him competing for Matilda to his mother. He was never good at caking up the truth, so eventually he spoke, throwing caution to the wind.

"Mother," he said, "What are your thoughts on me marrying a princess?"

Aeryn stopped, looking wide-eyed at Nikolas. It was more excitement than anything, but what he had just said caught her off guard. Anne, their mother on the other hand simply paused, putting her spoon gently onto the table. After a moment of silence Anne finally spoke.

"Which one?" she spoke, only audible enough so Nikolas could barely hear.

Aeryn piped up, "It's Matilda isn't it?!" she grinned slyly, "I knew it! Couldn't keep your hands clean from that competition, huh dear brother?" Aeryn smiled devilishly.

Nikolas sighed, scratching his head, "Well, yes and no -- "

Anne stood up and walked out of the shack, leaving both Nikolas and Aeryn confused. Nikolas was taken aback the most, did this not bode well with her? The last thing he ever wanted to do was disappoint the woman who basically raised him ground up, pounding into him the character and personality that made him who he was today. Anne had earned that respect and it wasn't on Nikolas' grounds to let her down.

"Excuse me Aeryn," he said, standing up and following after his mother.

It didn't take long to find her. Anne was standing just outside the shack entrance -- just standing there, staring at a blank spot on the other side of the alley. Nikolas touched her shoulder.

"Mother?" he asked.

"Nikolas.. . are you sure you know what you're getting into?" she asked softly.

Nikolas didn't have to think, "I am, I haven't been so sure of anything. Why do people always ask me that?"

Anne, turned, staring at Nikolas with blank eyes,

"Because Nikolas that's a whole different world in the castle, you think you might know how it works but you don't. You stand on the outside watching and protecting them, but do you really know? The nobility live a different life based around presentation. But you won't be a noble if you win this Nikolas, you'll be king -- royalty. Do you think just because of your tours in the army you're as qualified at this as Sebastien is? You need to realize that there's a disconnect with those things, between the regiments and ruling a kingdom. A king must look after people that may not like him, but still he does so fairly and justly. You cannot think that everyone is forced to obey like in the regiments -- "

Nikolas interrupted, his voice raising, "I would think I would know something of leadership -- and it's not about being king! It's about --"

"About Matilda? What about the duty you swore to the king? Do you think you are justifying that by allowing Gregoir to take your place? When you took that oath it meant you would put aside all these things for one thing only -- your duty! Nikolas, have you ever considered that you will not win? That you will lose? What then? Do you think Sebastien will let you back as Captain and all will be well? You've already proven yourself incapable of placing personal desires behind the needs of the family -- "

"Am I not entitled to some happiness? After all I've been through am I not allowed just a semblance of that?"

Anne paused, then spoke sincerity in her voice, "You deserve all the happiness in the world Nikolas.. . you've truly grown into a man your father would be proud of. But.. . you're a commoner, you can't change that. You bear no noble lineage, nothing to trace back to. These other knights, many of them come from a golden heritage. With your knighthood came the safety of your life, a security granted by the good king Sebastien after what you did. . ."

That angered Nikolas, "What I did? And what would you know about what I did? You never spoke to me once when I came back, lent not an ear, and you hung your head in shame! The one time I wish to do something right for once you shoot it down! I'm not the same man I used to be, dont you get it?"

Nikolas didn't say more. He stormed into the house. Aeryn sat there, tears in her eyes. The yelling from outside must have scared her. Nikolas couldn't bear to look at her. He couldn't bear to think he was inflicting pain on his little sister. What once was a pleasant family visit turned into a disaster. Nikolas went down the trapdoor, grabbing an old black pack -- inside the contents of the fabled and infamous armor of the Crimson Riders. He hoisted it on his back, climbed up through the trapdoor. He stopped at the entrance of the shack before he left, not looking back.

"Take care of your mother Aeryn," was all he said.

And with that he was off, he forced himself not to look back. He was going into this alone. The thought of Matilda was all that drove him onward. He caught a wagon back to the castle to speed up the distance.

His time in the Crimson Riders had forever scarred his reputation. They were an elite cavalry group, renowned for their horsemanship and sheer tactical prowess. Nikolas was only a secondary then, right below the rank of Captain. What the stories tell is that one night sanity broke amongst the ranks and a section -- Nikolas' section containing both Gregoir and himself broke off and started slaughtering villages and towns, anything they came across. Where the folktale and the truth divert is the reasoning behind the madness, a truth only those there that night would know. There is no justifying what took place, but Nikolas and his section were ordered by their Captain to do such things. Nikolas was hesitant first, but their Captain assured them that each village slaughtered was full of snitches and moles threatening to give away their position. Nikolas ordered the massacres to be done methodically, and word quickly spread about what happened. The rest of the section was exceuted for war-crimes, only Nikolas and Gregoir to be spared -- and in fact rewarded by knighthood. This was met with much controversy, and even now Nikolas knows not the motive behind their knighting. The Captain who ordered the massacres disappeared after that, never to be found. Nikolas hunted him from awhile, but to no fruition. His occupancy as Captain-of-the-Guard kept his mind off thoughts of revenge.

Nikolas donned his armor and grabbed his fathers horse from the castle stables. The armor alone was enough to turn heads, issuing hushed gasps of horror to circulate around the crowd. Nikolas paid them no mind. Within this armor he felt powerful. It was within Nikolas' means to prove to everybody here he was a force to be feared. As his horse clopped towards the tourney grounds people turned, pointing, fearful, shaking their heads. As he came closer he almost forgot why he was competing, until in the distance he saw Matilda sitting there in the royal box accompanied with good Sebastien, the queen, the other princesses' and Gregoir. A wave of shame overcame Nikolas. He felt selfish and dirty. This tourney was not for his own personal pride but the chance of love with Matilda. Nikolas put on his full-helm, an artifact crafted with a delicate beauty contrasted by the violent red plume running down the center. This was the mark of the Crimson Riders.

His first bout would be with a Kardellian knight. Nikolas readied himself, coming closer to the tourney grounds. Nikolas was a knight saved by knighthood and had more than enough reason to prove his worth.

Sebastian nodded in acknowledgement of his daughters; his attention was split on the elven knight and a man he could only explain as impossible. “You did say, Sir Gregor that Nikolas was informing the men of the rules? Then who is this man darning those colors.” He said pointing to the knight wearing the colors of the Crimson riders. There were only two men still alive who bore that armor in their lives, one was highly praised and the other was standing in the box with them, and because he was certain Gregor couldn’t be in two placed at once it left only the other. “What is he doing in that!” he remarked his eyes in a boiling rage.

The Jester stepped back from the king, knowing the man’s temperament wasn’t the most easily to get along with. He didn’t know who to be more upset with over this matter, Nikolas for this betrayal or Gregor for Lying about it.

“I want answers, Gregor what is going on!” he grumbled as the frail knight tried to make sense of the saturation. He obviously didn’t know Sir Nikolas was going to pull something like this, but still Sebastian didn’t want to hear excuses. Sebastian rose form his chair in anger his eyes looking at what he preserved to be Nikolas.

The Elf from before made a monologue of some kind on the field, but Sebastian’s mind couldn’t make sense of the man’s words. Without a second thought, the elf faded from his primary train of thought as he lost to the Kalldrewllian whose name he believes is Lazio.

Aleiia watched in horror as Terrowin had fallen. He said something but she couldn't make out what he was saying but he was looking directly at her. She didn't hide her worry then. His injuries from before must have gotten to him. Not that it mattered. She was about to tell her father that she favored this one but he seemed to be more concerned with the fact that Nikolas was not here. Aleiia looked at her sister then. Aleiia already knew that Nikolas held feelings for her.

Hoping to change the subject, as Aleiia didn't want Nikolas in any trouble for loving Matilda so much he was willing to contest for her hand, Aleiia rose and tapped her father's shoulder. She knew her father's temper. It was something she'd inherited from him but she also knew just how she could maybe distract him from his rage. "Excuse me father, I think I found my favorite." She said with a wide smile as if she were completely unaware of his rage. She hoped that in light of Aleiia finding a favorite, he might becoming even slightly distracted. "I'd like to meet this Elven knight." She asked him, playing up the 'Daddy's little girl' voice as best she could without making it obvious. "Is that alright, Father?" She asked grinning brightly.

Sebastian's eyes winded as Aleiia spoke to him, she had found a favorite suitor already? It had only been a few minutes, how? But then he supposes she met the Mer beforehand. It was like his eldest to take the first steps, and as always her sisters would follow her example. He had no problem with elves in general, they were a good hard working kind of people however he wasn't sure Kaarviel is ready for such a change, after all there are still some older Successors who can recall The old empire, and the war between Mer and Man.

“You shall meet him at the feast, just as you will meet all the champions today.” He said his temper cooling. As the Knight of Sumerstand rode up to the man in unforgivable colors, the knight removed ‘his’ helmet revealing a waterfall of brown curls flowing over ‘his’ shoulders. A feminine voice erupted from the think blackened armor.

“I know those colors well and I remember you, Nikolas Lysander.” Isolda never feared a fellow warrior; before she was dishonored she was known as “The Merkiller of Kaareviel” a name she was given for good reason. “You’ve grown soft and fat!” she exclaimed, “A disgrace to those colors.”

It was Isolda the Captain of the Crimson Riders, missing for years after the disgrace that fell upon the unit. She was the Knight of Summerstand, somehow it made sense her madness and the Knight crudeness Sebastian was shocked he hadn’t recognized her before.

“Gregor, arrest that woman!” he said pointing Isolda as she grinned, in sweet delight.

“Good, as long as he wasn’t inappropriate, I have heard plenty about that boys reputation” Desdemona grumbled, a rather unusual action for the Queen to do, she was usually gracious and courteous towards all, however Prince Desmond of Galirel did not sit well with her, perhaps it was just her motherly instincts wanting to protect her daughters from such a cad or perhaps it was something more, either way she greatly disliked the boy.

The Queen turned her attention back to the tourney, although she was particularly enjoying herself, yet you would not have been able to tell, her poise and grace was a well practised façade, many could seldom guess on the Queen’s true emotions save her husband, he always seemed to know how she felt, something which she both loved and despised at the same time. She watched as Regan’s favourite competitor was de-saddled and the small pout on her youngest daughters face showed her discontent at the situation, the queen couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

“Don’t fret sweetling, I do not think he was harmed” Mona cooed reaching out to lightly squeeze Regan’s hand in a motherly gesture.

It was then Sir Nikolas entered the arena upon his steed, donning armoury she didn’t quite recognise. Mona looked over to Matilda, her happy smile radiating from her pretty face, so Nikolas was competing for the hand the hand of her second eldest, it all made remarkable sense now. The longing stares, the fierce protection, Nikolas was in love with her daughter.

Mona shifted in her seat at this revelation, Nikolas was a good man, kind and honourable, she should want nothing more for her daughter, but he had no titles, land or wealth, he had risen through the ranks, he was not born into them and that would pose a problem, especially for Sebastian.

The Queen bit her lip as she looked at her husband, his face red with rage “husband please think before you act rashly” Mona tried to soothe, knowing it was nearly useless trying contain the King when his anger took over. Looking back at her daughters, Mona forced a smile, trying to ease their worries, however the look on Aleiia’s concerned her, following her eldest gaze the Queen’s brown hues landed upon a fallen elf who’s eyes were solely fixated upon Aleiia.

Mona almost stopped Aleiia as she rose to her feat and approached her father but she knew Sebastian’s anger very rarely stretched to his children. Her words seemed to work and Mona quickly spotted a change in her husband’s demeanour, “You shall meet him at the feast, just as you will meet all the champions today.” Mona looked at Sebastian with anger in her eyes, how could he be so dismissive.

Reaching out, the Queen gently took Aleiia’s hand, pulling away “Darling sit back down” she commanded lightly, fearing a scene being made, she made sure her eyes connected with her eldest daughters silently speaking ‘I shall talk to him.’

---

Matilda was stunned at her father as his anger erupted in such a public place; so much was happening in such a short space of time that her head began to pound. Pinching the bridge of her nose, the princess closed her eyes briefly, waiting for the pain to pass. Although, upon hearing Nikolas’s name come from her fathers lips caused her head to shoot up and towards her father, then towards the tourney grounds.

Toward them rode a man upon his horse donning the armour of the Crimson Riders, she rose to her feat and hurried towards the barrier, not being able to contain the smile on her face, who cared what armour he wore, you only had to speak to Nikolas to know that he was a changed man, it did not bother her what he did to feel empowered just so long as he won.

Yet her father’s anger was threatening to boil over, turning back to him her cool blue eyes narrowed “Father please!” she pleaded in protest “Sir Nikolas is a good man and I would be honoured for him to fight for me in this tourney” she replied stubbornly, she would not relent, never. Mattie wanted Nikolas as much as he wanted her and once she set her mind to something there wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do to get it.

Aleiia then rose and tried to sooth her fathers anger towards Nikolas by putting herself in the firing range and declaring she had found a champion and an elf none-the-less. Matilda was thankful for this and she took the opportunity to turn back towards Nikolas, her eyes pleading with his to be careful, her father’s wrath was unprecedented and it would not have taken much for him to send him to the dungeons. Closing her eyes, she let out a small, barely audible whisper, which travelled upon the wind to Nikolas’s ears. “Should things turn sour, gallop away from here and don’t look back. I shall meet you upon the opening to the Forgotten Forrest at midnight.”

After she sent her message, Matilda watched as a rider approached her knight, her eyes widening as they removed their helm, tresses of brown curls spilling down her back. Her father erupted, “Gregoir, arrest that woman!”

"You shall meet him at the feast, just as you will meet all the champions today." Aleiia's father said and Aleiia gave a small smile, glad that he calmed a little but she felt a little dismissed, like she had when she were small and he would tell her he was busy with something when she wanted to play. Her mother took her hand and sat her down. "Darling, sit back down." She said, Aleiia sat with her hands in her lap, her eyes shifted to Terrowin's from afar. "I shall talk to him," Her mother cooed and Aleiia gave a small smile. "Thank you mother." Aleiia said and nodded and she looked over at Matilda. She would do anything for her sisters. Even if that meant putting herself in the path of thier father's wrath. She took Matlida's hand again and gave her a reassuring smile, but it faded as a rider appeared. Her helm was removed and the face was that of a woman. Aleiia's eyes widened. "Gregoir, arrest that woman!" He shouted and Aleiia looked over at Terrowin, more concerned with him then whatever was going on with this woman.

Sebastian sat down his heart beat easing as the man close his eyes. His mind wandered to days long gone, when his daughters were all but tadpoles in a pond. When his biggest concern was whether or not his daughters would be seen at court that day. Simpler times, when he did not need to think of the future.

He opened his eyes to see an aged wife sitting beside him, and a different tournament before his eyes. He felt older, greyer then he had before. All but one of his daughters had fled from his side, married now with their own families. He was a Grandfather, one day his grandson would take his place upon this throne and led their people into a new age.

Now it was Regan’s time to choice her husband, she looked so beautiful. As the young men came galloping for her favor, Sebastian couldn’t help but notice her smile the same smile that he saw in his other daughter’s so many years ago. A young man, very young came, front and center lifting his helmet he pledged his loyalty and asked for Regan’s favor. She agreed and placed a garland on the man’s lance. It was rather unfair for the other men; his daughter had known this man her whole life.
“And too you, my King.” The man said, bowing genteelly.

“Good Luck, Sir. Sebastian Son of Kyren.” He smiled at the boy, his brother’s son and from the look at Regan’s smile, he champion. It was the same look he had seen on Aleiia and Matildas’ so long ago, and Genevieve’s when her time came.

Looking to his wife his kissed his love’s hand gently, knowing there time was nearly done. A new era was about to emerge, an era of a new beginning.

And they all lived Happily Ever After...