Setting
Default Location for The Six Nations of Dusseteu {v2}
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Dusseteu is a part of 
The Six Nations of Dusseteu 2.
3 Characters Here
Cecilia Hynes [0] Wife to and interpreter for Sebastian Hynes, a pretty impressive wizard herself.
Athanasius Tunid [0] Prince of the light kingdom
Lucian Ioannou [0] Prince of the Earth Nation
Start Character Here »
- 117 posts here • Page 4 of 5 • 1, 2, 3, 4, 5
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"Oh, father, who is it I'm supposed to marry?"
Johann sighed, looking worn but nonetheless happy that at least one of his five children had no complaints on the issue of her marriage. A smile found its way to his face, although it was not the happiest smile he had ever conjured. "I believe," he said, doing his best to recall the name of his daughter's betrothed, "that you are engaged to the elder prince of the dark nation. Zenith, I think his name is?" He looked at Sebastian, who rememebered this sort of thing, for support in the memory department. The wizard nodded. "I know little else about him, however. For that, I am sorry, my dear."
It was at this point that Cecilia decided to interject herself back into the conversation. "He's roughly two years your senior," she said helpfully. "From all that I've gleaned, he's very polite. Smart, thoughful." She smiled. "Basically, imagine Kalmut's polar opposite." Sebastian gave her a Look which could only be interpreted as disapproving, but she shrugged. "What? You don't expect me to send His Majesty's girls off into unfamiliar territory without first doing a little research on their betrothed, do you? Why, that would be irresponsible!"
Sebastian opened his mouth to speak, and then, shaking his head, shut it again. But not for long. "We'll have this conversation later," he said. the key phrase that indicated no one would like to be around the Hynes homestead when the two finally got a chance to be alone together. Some of the older women had warned Cecilia that the shouting matches the two engaged in regularly were not good for the baby due in a few months. She had assured them that she would kill her husband before it got to that point, which seemed to be a satisfactory answer, or at least got them to stop pestering her about it.
Kalmut was still trying to figure out Cecilia's comment. "Are you trying to say I'm not smart?"
"No, Kalmut, she's trying to say you're not thoughtful or well mannered," Kore said, in a gesture of sibling rivalry (which was like affection, if you turned your head to the side and squinted). "You're the one who said you weren't smart, all on your own." Kalmut skukled. He really wasn't all that unintelligent, but Kore did have a point; asking had just made him look stupid.
After a moment, however, he perked up. "The ball is tonight, you say? Well, I suppose I shall have to tidy myself up and catch up on my sleep before that. Thank you, Father." He stood with a flourish. "If you see Marcus again this day, please remember to have that talk with him, will you?" The king waved him off good naturedly.
"I'll certainly remember." Whether or not he would have the conversation was another story, of course. Kalmut grinned, and as quickly as he'd come, trotted out of his father's hall. Bathing was in order, and perhaps a new set of clothes. It was always best to look dashing when causing mischief.
Kore just sighed and shook his head. He wouldn't hear the end of this nonsense, if he knew his brother at all.
Johann sighed, looking worn but nonetheless happy that at least one of his five children had no complaints on the issue of her marriage. A smile found its way to his face, although it was not the happiest smile he had ever conjured. "I believe," he said, doing his best to recall the name of his daughter's betrothed, "that you are engaged to the elder prince of the dark nation. Zenith, I think his name is?" He looked at Sebastian, who rememebered this sort of thing, for support in the memory department. The wizard nodded. "I know little else about him, however. For that, I am sorry, my dear."
It was at this point that Cecilia decided to interject herself back into the conversation. "He's roughly two years your senior," she said helpfully. "From all that I've gleaned, he's very polite. Smart, thoughful." She smiled. "Basically, imagine Kalmut's polar opposite." Sebastian gave her a Look which could only be interpreted as disapproving, but she shrugged. "What? You don't expect me to send His Majesty's girls off into unfamiliar territory without first doing a little research on their betrothed, do you? Why, that would be irresponsible!"
Sebastian opened his mouth to speak, and then, shaking his head, shut it again. But not for long. "We'll have this conversation later," he said. the key phrase that indicated no one would like to be around the Hynes homestead when the two finally got a chance to be alone together. Some of the older women had warned Cecilia that the shouting matches the two engaged in regularly were not good for the baby due in a few months. She had assured them that she would kill her husband before it got to that point, which seemed to be a satisfactory answer, or at least got them to stop pestering her about it.
Kalmut was still trying to figure out Cecilia's comment. "Are you trying to say I'm not smart?"
"No, Kalmut, she's trying to say you're not thoughtful or well mannered," Kore said, in a gesture of sibling rivalry (which was like affection, if you turned your head to the side and squinted). "You're the one who said you weren't smart, all on your own." Kalmut skukled. He really wasn't all that unintelligent, but Kore did have a point; asking had just made him look stupid.
After a moment, however, he perked up. "The ball is tonight, you say? Well, I suppose I shall have to tidy myself up and catch up on my sleep before that. Thank you, Father." He stood with a flourish. "If you see Marcus again this day, please remember to have that talk with him, will you?" The king waved him off good naturedly.
"I'll certainly remember." Whether or not he would have the conversation was another story, of course. Kalmut grinned, and as quickly as he'd come, trotted out of his father's hall. Bathing was in order, and perhaps a new set of clothes. It was always best to look dashing when causing mischief.
Kore just sighed and shook his head. He wouldn't hear the end of this nonsense, if he knew his brother at all.
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Zenith's dark eyes dropped from his mother's steely gaze, and he turned towards the stomping footsteps which belonged ho his father. Everyone reacted the same way whenever he made his entrance. Trembling hands and quivering voices, before they scattered beneath his gaze. He understood full-well how strict the King could be, even with his children, but he knew that he wasn't all bad. Renewed hope caught in his throat and he fought against the temptation to throw a look to Aedre, a look that would say let's-hear-what-he-has-to-say. Truthfully, he hadn't heard all of his siblings' opinions so he didn't know where they stood. His stubbornness kept him from seeing whatever big picture; he didn't want to marry forcefully, without any chance to deny the request, and the more they pushed, the more he dug in his heels.
Abhorring the very idea of being shepherded off to the gathering with the intent meeting his fiancée, the Prince had to admit that rejecting to even attend wouldn't be fair. Fairness wasn't rearing its head in their direction though, because even if they didn't get along with their destined wives or husbands—even if they fought as much as their parents—they didn't have a choice. Choice and fairness played no part in this. This was tradition, and if they didn't agree, war would wage throughout each Nation. What choice did they have? None. Biting the side of his cheek to stem his angry thoughts, his hand fell away from the wolves' ear and he nodded his head absently. No logic played its' part here either, he couldn't argue this with logic because none of it would be heard. Tradition defied reason. “Either way,” He responded after his sister spoke, “We won't have any say in the matter.” Rolling his eyes with a slight smile twinging the sides of his lips. “As much as I love our Nation, Vincent will only see as far as the gathering.” It was only the truth, after the gathering was finished, they'd bring their wives back into the depths and deal with the famine. His sisters would be free to see the more fortunate world in their new Nation, without them.
Moving alongside his brother, Zenith claimed a chair next to him. The two brothers' opinions often clashed and the only thing they actually agreed on was over drinks. Outside of that, they barely conversed, besides silly bantering and chide rough-housing. It'd always been Gethen and he, Vincent and Stella. Sometimes he wondered why it was that way, but decided it was only natural. Turning his attention towards their father, he perched his elbow on the chairs' arm and leaned his face into his hand. Family gathering, indeed.
Garion
Glaring coolly around the wide chamber, the fire blazing in the hearth seemed to illuminate the King's hulking figure. Lastly, the blind servant belonging to Stella remained anchored at her side, hands clasped together and his dark eyes seemed to stare through her. It seemed like he was about to protest against the notion, because it was a royal matter that was being dealt with, but he exhaled defeatedly. He often wondered why his daughters held such power of him; batting their eyes and asking sweetly usually always managed to sway him, even if they stood stubbornly by and demanded, he'd only smile. Demanded the King, it was an absurd notion that the councillors often warned him about. They said he was far too lenient when it came to his children, even his wife condemned him with her disapproval.
“As you wish,” The King admonished, watching as Stella nearly dragged the poor blind servant towards the seats. Although he scratched absently as his beard, debating whether or not his decision was misplaced. No one else would know of this conversation taking place—and he doubted that Layla would be running off anywhere to blab. As much as his daughters tested his patience, he would never question the trust he had. Unlike his obvious affection for his daughters, he often treated his sons with a far more stern hand, because he knew that one day they would have to shoulder his responsibilities. He just wished that they would take it more seriously, he could already see Vincent slouching in his chair, inevitably wondering when the meeting would end. Zenith only entertained his notions so that he would leave him be, shirking whatever solutions he may offer because he “already had his own.”
Garion slumped into his own golden-gilded chair, resembling a wary old lion who'd had more than one frazzled days. Aedre took a seat, perched at his side like a hawk and his calloused hand searched for her hand. Although their opinions often didn't meet, it was times like this were he sought comfort. What could he even say about this matter? When he was their age, he fought tooth and nail against the notion, and from all of that... he'd earned a fiery young girl who'd all but admonished her hate for him, her hate for their underground Nation. Would this be a repeat? Most likely. Sighing softly, he stared across at his children. Two sons, who he'd seen grow into fine young men, willing to do what they'd rather not do for the Nation, for their King. He knew even after this conversation, they would not refuse. And his two beautiful little girls. He still saw them that way. His two little girls that he would be forced to give away to two Prince's who he knew nothing about—only general information, and that was never enough for a father. The thought swilled an ugly taste in his mouth.
“For generations,” Garion began, “War has ruled over each Nation, its' become something akin to every day life. It's unavoidable and unnecessary. I believe that peace is not the absence of conflict, but the ability to cope with it and move on, to adapt. I believe that these marriages are as ridiculous as they sound, but they ARE necessary. I believe that it is something we cannot escape. And it does not matter what I believe!” His voice grew louder and he fought to keep it steady, the King's fist curling into a fist. “Peace is a necessity. Protecting our Nation and our people, this is what we are born and destined to do,” He expressed, finding himself leaning forward in his chair. “Our opinions mean little to what has been cemented into tradition, into history. The more you fight against it, the more our Nation suffers.”
Abhorring the very idea of being shepherded off to the gathering with the intent meeting his fiancée, the Prince had to admit that rejecting to even attend wouldn't be fair. Fairness wasn't rearing its head in their direction though, because even if they didn't get along with their destined wives or husbands—even if they fought as much as their parents—they didn't have a choice. Choice and fairness played no part in this. This was tradition, and if they didn't agree, war would wage throughout each Nation. What choice did they have? None. Biting the side of his cheek to stem his angry thoughts, his hand fell away from the wolves' ear and he nodded his head absently. No logic played its' part here either, he couldn't argue this with logic because none of it would be heard. Tradition defied reason. “Either way,” He responded after his sister spoke, “We won't have any say in the matter.” Rolling his eyes with a slight smile twinging the sides of his lips. “As much as I love our Nation, Vincent will only see as far as the gathering.” It was only the truth, after the gathering was finished, they'd bring their wives back into the depths and deal with the famine. His sisters would be free to see the more fortunate world in their new Nation, without them.
Moving alongside his brother, Zenith claimed a chair next to him. The two brothers' opinions often clashed and the only thing they actually agreed on was over drinks. Outside of that, they barely conversed, besides silly bantering and chide rough-housing. It'd always been Gethen and he, Vincent and Stella. Sometimes he wondered why it was that way, but decided it was only natural. Turning his attention towards their father, he perched his elbow on the chairs' arm and leaned his face into his hand. Family gathering, indeed.
Garion
Glaring coolly around the wide chamber, the fire blazing in the hearth seemed to illuminate the King's hulking figure. Lastly, the blind servant belonging to Stella remained anchored at her side, hands clasped together and his dark eyes seemed to stare through her. It seemed like he was about to protest against the notion, because it was a royal matter that was being dealt with, but he exhaled defeatedly. He often wondered why his daughters held such power of him; batting their eyes and asking sweetly usually always managed to sway him, even if they stood stubbornly by and demanded, he'd only smile. Demanded the King, it was an absurd notion that the councillors often warned him about. They said he was far too lenient when it came to his children, even his wife condemned him with her disapproval.
“As you wish,” The King admonished, watching as Stella nearly dragged the poor blind servant towards the seats. Although he scratched absently as his beard, debating whether or not his decision was misplaced. No one else would know of this conversation taking place—and he doubted that Layla would be running off anywhere to blab. As much as his daughters tested his patience, he would never question the trust he had. Unlike his obvious affection for his daughters, he often treated his sons with a far more stern hand, because he knew that one day they would have to shoulder his responsibilities. He just wished that they would take it more seriously, he could already see Vincent slouching in his chair, inevitably wondering when the meeting would end. Zenith only entertained his notions so that he would leave him be, shirking whatever solutions he may offer because he “already had his own.”
Garion slumped into his own golden-gilded chair, resembling a wary old lion who'd had more than one frazzled days. Aedre took a seat, perched at his side like a hawk and his calloused hand searched for her hand. Although their opinions often didn't meet, it was times like this were he sought comfort. What could he even say about this matter? When he was their age, he fought tooth and nail against the notion, and from all of that... he'd earned a fiery young girl who'd all but admonished her hate for him, her hate for their underground Nation. Would this be a repeat? Most likely. Sighing softly, he stared across at his children. Two sons, who he'd seen grow into fine young men, willing to do what they'd rather not do for the Nation, for their King. He knew even after this conversation, they would not refuse. And his two beautiful little girls. He still saw them that way. His two little girls that he would be forced to give away to two Prince's who he knew nothing about—only general information, and that was never enough for a father. The thought swilled an ugly taste in his mouth.
“For generations,” Garion began, “War has ruled over each Nation, its' become something akin to every day life. It's unavoidable and unnecessary. I believe that peace is not the absence of conflict, but the ability to cope with it and move on, to adapt. I believe that these marriages are as ridiculous as they sound, but they ARE necessary. I believe that it is something we cannot escape. And it does not matter what I believe!” His voice grew louder and he fought to keep it steady, the King's fist curling into a fist. “Peace is a necessity. Protecting our Nation and our people, this is what we are born and destined to do,” He expressed, finding himself leaning forward in his chair. “Our opinions mean little to what has been cemented into tradition, into history. The more you fight against it, the more our Nation suffers.”
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The servant came through the door, and bowed her head graciously. The queen observed the girl with the thought in her head, “This will be the girl that accompanys' Veta...”. Even though the Queen had no right to reject the Kings' decisions, she could at least judge the mere servant. That was all she could do, now.
“The king has ran away with business.” She said, rather monotone. “So he left me to deliver a message to you.” The queen arose from her chair, and moved closer to Eve, that way the conversation could be heard easily. “The King wants you to accompany Veta to her travel to the wind nation.” She tried to say it clearly, but her voice hesitated, just a bit. “He respects your family very much, but also figured you would fit the role the best. You're a perfect candidate.” Elvira then sighed, and said “Pack your belongings, and you shall leave with Veta when the time arrives.”. Then, she made perfect eye contact with the servant before her. “And a word from me...please watch over her, Eve. A mother has to worry, of course” Elvira managed to throw a light smile across her face, and was almost ready to leave the room. She didn't have to wait for a reply – the girl was a servant, after all.
“The king has ran away with business.” She said, rather monotone. “So he left me to deliver a message to you.” The queen arose from her chair, and moved closer to Eve, that way the conversation could be heard easily. “The King wants you to accompany Veta to her travel to the wind nation.” She tried to say it clearly, but her voice hesitated, just a bit. “He respects your family very much, but also figured you would fit the role the best. You're a perfect candidate.” Elvira then sighed, and said “Pack your belongings, and you shall leave with Veta when the time arrives.”. Then, she made perfect eye contact with the servant before her. “And a word from me...please watch over her, Eve. A mother has to worry, of course” Elvira managed to throw a light smile across her face, and was almost ready to leave the room. She didn't have to wait for a reply – the girl was a servant, after all.
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Oliver rather awkwardly sat next to Bria as the siblings had their moments of sadness. A part of him wanted to get up, tell them all that father was a busy man and business should always come before personal chores. But that was not a proper way to behave. Oliver sighed. He was not used to this, emotional jabbering made him feel useless. It was probably why he had taken such a liking to the King, and the King to him. They were both very down to business men and they had very little time for emotions. Love and affection when Oliver was growing up was a pat on the back while he was over a kettle, or a playful comment while he ran with a girl. Not crying in a palace about how father didn't love them all and about the terrors of marrying. Oliver placed a hand on Siris' shoulder to comfort her up until Nereus stood, at which he stood instantly as well, grateful to get away from the misery.
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Lucian had spent the time simply watching the events unfold, which he tended to do. He had smiled at Vetas embarrassment, but knew he didn't and couldn't really waste time here, he had to finish that damn field. Standing he stretched and heard his back pop in a few places, and winced from the pleasant yet unpleasant feeling. Winking at his two sisters "You two take care now, and be careful with the guy, gotta leave something of you two left for your darlings tonight."
Moving from the table with careful long-legged strides, he left the dinning hall and leaned against the wall. Truth be told he was exhausted but the job need down, so with a long tired sigh he stood up and left the castle gates to descend back unto that field which was just as stubborn as the man trying to plow it.
Moving from the table with careful long-legged strides, he left the dinning hall and leaned against the wall. Truth be told he was exhausted but the job need down, so with a long tired sigh he stood up and left the castle gates to descend back unto that field which was just as stubborn as the man trying to plow it.
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Aedre cradled her husbands searching hand in her both her own giving him a gentle smile before replacing it with a stern face for her children. She observed as each of their faces fell when it finally dawned upon them that they really were marrying someone from another nation, they really were going to a gathering and it was true both the king and Queen agreed the tradition was to be kept.
"You cannot be selfish. You are no longer children to be pampered mindlessly by maids, no longer will someone wipe your nose for you" she spoke clearly her tone accusational towards the four of them being spoilt toddlers, what with Stella pouting her lips to get her own way and Vincent sitting in his seat like a rebellious child constantly going through his terrible twos. Not to mention Zenith and Gethen storming their way up into this very chamber stamping and stomping about marriage arrangements because it wasnt what they wanted to do. It didnt quite gel with them and therefore earn the right to be called absurd and ridiculous.
"Think this... in only a few hours you will be attending the gathering traditionally held every 20 years. In a few hours you will be meeting the other royalty of nations and we will be attending with you. Not only will you be meeting your future husbands and wives but their mothers and fathers and some of them our brothers and sisters. We expect you to behave like royalty. At the gathering you are still the royal youth of the Dark nation so you will be representing us as you still will be when you Gethen and Stella go to live with the water nation. Me and your father expect the upmost behaviour from all four of you otherwise..." her eyes glinted in the fire light where she'd perched herself on the arm of Garion's chair. "There will be consequences"
--- ---
Gethen looked between her father and mother her expression helplessly pleading as her eyes focused maining on her father, her eyesbrows furrowed with sadness, her lips shaped with unhappiness. "Please father. I dont want to leave the nation. I dont want to marry a water nation prince. I'd rather marry Hanza!" She looked about the others for some aid. "Say we go to this gathering and the princes are ghastly- can we stay here- cant you call it off? Force the Princes to move to the Dark nation even so we can be here with you still" Gethen even turned her eyes to her mother. "Please Mother i dont want to go to another Nation- not permanently. Not the water nation. I cannot even swim"
"You cannot be selfish. You are no longer children to be pampered mindlessly by maids, no longer will someone wipe your nose for you" she spoke clearly her tone accusational towards the four of them being spoilt toddlers, what with Stella pouting her lips to get her own way and Vincent sitting in his seat like a rebellious child constantly going through his terrible twos. Not to mention Zenith and Gethen storming their way up into this very chamber stamping and stomping about marriage arrangements because it wasnt what they wanted to do. It didnt quite gel with them and therefore earn the right to be called absurd and ridiculous.
"Think this... in only a few hours you will be attending the gathering traditionally held every 20 years. In a few hours you will be meeting the other royalty of nations and we will be attending with you. Not only will you be meeting your future husbands and wives but their mothers and fathers and some of them our brothers and sisters. We expect you to behave like royalty. At the gathering you are still the royal youth of the Dark nation so you will be representing us as you still will be when you Gethen and Stella go to live with the water nation. Me and your father expect the upmost behaviour from all four of you otherwise..." her eyes glinted in the fire light where she'd perched herself on the arm of Garion's chair. "There will be consequences"
--- ---
Gethen looked between her father and mother her expression helplessly pleading as her eyes focused maining on her father, her eyesbrows furrowed with sadness, her lips shaped with unhappiness. "Please father. I dont want to leave the nation. I dont want to marry a water nation prince. I'd rather marry Hanza!" She looked about the others for some aid. "Say we go to this gathering and the princes are ghastly- can we stay here- cant you call it off? Force the Princes to move to the Dark nation even so we can be here with you still" Gethen even turned her eyes to her mother. "Please Mother i dont want to go to another Nation- not permanently. Not the water nation. I cannot even swim"
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-Rhys - (See Amaury Below)
Rhys sighed a bit as he carried his things back to his room. He couldn’t say he was looking forward to being trapped in a room with so many strangers. It was bound to be a stuffy stuck up affair. All those rules and the proper etiquette… Of course he would be keeping a close eye on his mistress from the shadows but as far as he was concerned the Healer was determined to keep himself as far away from any other people as possible. It never failed when he went to these types of events, some fool hard male, drunken on too much sweet wine would mistake him for a silly palace maid.
The mere notion infuriated Rhys. It was certainly not his choice to be this way. He had very little choice in anything when it came to his life. He hadn’t chosen this profession, being practically kidnapped from his parents just because he had the gift. He hadn’t chosen to be gelded like a piece of chattel for the sake of that un-chosen profession. While he cared for the royal children very much, perhaps the feelings from knowing he would never be able to have his own, he still often found himself resenting everything in his life. He especially resented looks that encouraged egotistical men who thought they were god’s gift to this green earth.
Smothering his annoyance, the healer was able to quickly dress and start on his way. The faster he arrived, the faster he could get this out of the way.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________
- Amaury -
Amaury pulled back from the wall finally. It seemed like it was unlikely that the King would permit their interview now. It was just too close to the time for the ball and those selfish little whelps of the King’s had taken up all the time. The boy shook his head slightly as he took himself back down the hall to the other side of the audience chambers. Ever since he had arrived he had been mapping out the palace every free second he had. It was essential that he could move about in places that even the most loyal palace workers often forgot about. When he arrived on the other side he saw the ambassadors were still waiting, looking rather disgruntled. Only one of the men knew the truth about him, the other pompous men believed he was nothing but a page sent to ease their days. One of the older men shot him a dirty look.
“Must you be dallying with the kitchen maids when we are attending to the King’s business? Honestly boy, there were plenty of others who would have killed their own mothers to be in your shoes!”
Amaury ducked his head and pretended to be flustered and chastised by the older man. He would have given anything though to shut that mouth. The man didn’t know his place. Just because he was the head of this little expedition didn’t mean he was the King of the Earth Kingdom. But he certainly liked to think he was.
“Sorry sir, I just lost track of the time. She was awful pretty sir!” He smiled bashfully, which earned him a few chuckles from the other men in the party.
“Give him some slack Kendrick! It’s not like the King is giving us the time of day! Don’t you remember how it was to be young?” Hal was the only one to speak up for him. Hal of course, was on his side. His name was Henry Grayson, otherwise known as Hal and Amaury’s partner in crime. He was the backup. If Amaury was unable to perform his duty for whatever reason, Hal’s responsibility was to step in and take the shot so to speak.
Amaury insisted the man wasn’t necessary. But the King was taking no chances. He hated Johann with a passion and he wanted that nasty heathen King dead. The sons, he was told, were nothing but pawns to be used. When they were married to the Earth King’s daughters, he would be able to use them as leverage to gain control of their husbands. Or at least…that was what he assumed. Amaury wasn’t so sure. The girls were head strong from what little he knew about them and he wasn’t sure if they had the same ideals as their father when it came to their country. What the King thought was for the best and what they thought was for the best…well… it wouldn’t be the first time a father and his children didn’t meet eye to eye.
But what he thought didn’t much matter. He wasn’t paid to think, at least not about those things. He was paid to kill.
“This is utter foolishness! He has stood us up for at least two hours!” Kendrick was getting even more frustrated as the seconds went by.
“Sir…If you don’t mind me saying… there will be plenty of time at the ball to discuss matters with the King, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind granting us a minute to discuss matters concerning the wedding while his children are busy mingling.”
Kendrick didn’t look pleased but he didn’t refuse the idea either. Finally he let out a huge sigh of utter frustration. He wasn’t a man who was use to things not going his way.
“Very well, we simply cannot afford to wait for his Majesty another moment. The royal family will expect us to be there when they arrive, and they certainly won’t be left until matters are settled anyway.” Kendrick was massaging the bridge of his nose as he spoke. “We will meet again in an hour to make our way to the ball. And I expect you to be on time this time,” His eyes shot angrily to Amaury who bowed to the older man, his face masked in a cheeky foolish smile.
“Yes sir! I won’t forget this time!”
And that was that. They left message with the page at the door that they would expect a new audience with the King and set off. Amaury pretended to ignore Hal’s warning look as they trooped back to their rooms. He knew the older man thought he was slacking, getting sloppy. As if. What was more natural after all than a silly empty headed page boy who spent his free hours chasing pretty castle wenches? If that was what Kendrick thought he was up to, well then who was he to deny him! Besides, he didn’t have time to worry about that now. Right now he had to be focused. This ball was the best time to observe his prey. Granted he couldn’t take the hit with so many people around, but he could learn a lot! And Amaury was determined to spend every minute doing so.
Rhys sighed a bit as he carried his things back to his room. He couldn’t say he was looking forward to being trapped in a room with so many strangers. It was bound to be a stuffy stuck up affair. All those rules and the proper etiquette… Of course he would be keeping a close eye on his mistress from the shadows but as far as he was concerned the Healer was determined to keep himself as far away from any other people as possible. It never failed when he went to these types of events, some fool hard male, drunken on too much sweet wine would mistake him for a silly palace maid.
The mere notion infuriated Rhys. It was certainly not his choice to be this way. He had very little choice in anything when it came to his life. He hadn’t chosen this profession, being practically kidnapped from his parents just because he had the gift. He hadn’t chosen to be gelded like a piece of chattel for the sake of that un-chosen profession. While he cared for the royal children very much, perhaps the feelings from knowing he would never be able to have his own, he still often found himself resenting everything in his life. He especially resented looks that encouraged egotistical men who thought they were god’s gift to this green earth.
Smothering his annoyance, the healer was able to quickly dress and start on his way. The faster he arrived, the faster he could get this out of the way.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________
- Amaury -
Amaury pulled back from the wall finally. It seemed like it was unlikely that the King would permit their interview now. It was just too close to the time for the ball and those selfish little whelps of the King’s had taken up all the time. The boy shook his head slightly as he took himself back down the hall to the other side of the audience chambers. Ever since he had arrived he had been mapping out the palace every free second he had. It was essential that he could move about in places that even the most loyal palace workers often forgot about. When he arrived on the other side he saw the ambassadors were still waiting, looking rather disgruntled. Only one of the men knew the truth about him, the other pompous men believed he was nothing but a page sent to ease their days. One of the older men shot him a dirty look.
“Must you be dallying with the kitchen maids when we are attending to the King’s business? Honestly boy, there were plenty of others who would have killed their own mothers to be in your shoes!”
Amaury ducked his head and pretended to be flustered and chastised by the older man. He would have given anything though to shut that mouth. The man didn’t know his place. Just because he was the head of this little expedition didn’t mean he was the King of the Earth Kingdom. But he certainly liked to think he was.
“Sorry sir, I just lost track of the time. She was awful pretty sir!” He smiled bashfully, which earned him a few chuckles from the other men in the party.
“Give him some slack Kendrick! It’s not like the King is giving us the time of day! Don’t you remember how it was to be young?” Hal was the only one to speak up for him. Hal of course, was on his side. His name was Henry Grayson, otherwise known as Hal and Amaury’s partner in crime. He was the backup. If Amaury was unable to perform his duty for whatever reason, Hal’s responsibility was to step in and take the shot so to speak.
Amaury insisted the man wasn’t necessary. But the King was taking no chances. He hated Johann with a passion and he wanted that nasty heathen King dead. The sons, he was told, were nothing but pawns to be used. When they were married to the Earth King’s daughters, he would be able to use them as leverage to gain control of their husbands. Or at least…that was what he assumed. Amaury wasn’t so sure. The girls were head strong from what little he knew about them and he wasn’t sure if they had the same ideals as their father when it came to their country. What the King thought was for the best and what they thought was for the best…well… it wouldn’t be the first time a father and his children didn’t meet eye to eye.
But what he thought didn’t much matter. He wasn’t paid to think, at least not about those things. He was paid to kill.
“This is utter foolishness! He has stood us up for at least two hours!” Kendrick was getting even more frustrated as the seconds went by.
“Sir…If you don’t mind me saying… there will be plenty of time at the ball to discuss matters with the King, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind granting us a minute to discuss matters concerning the wedding while his children are busy mingling.”
Kendrick didn’t look pleased but he didn’t refuse the idea either. Finally he let out a huge sigh of utter frustration. He wasn’t a man who was use to things not going his way.
“Very well, we simply cannot afford to wait for his Majesty another moment. The royal family will expect us to be there when they arrive, and they certainly won’t be left until matters are settled anyway.” Kendrick was massaging the bridge of his nose as he spoke. “We will meet again in an hour to make our way to the ball. And I expect you to be on time this time,” His eyes shot angrily to Amaury who bowed to the older man, his face masked in a cheeky foolish smile.
“Yes sir! I won’t forget this time!”
And that was that. They left message with the page at the door that they would expect a new audience with the King and set off. Amaury pretended to ignore Hal’s warning look as they trooped back to their rooms. He knew the older man thought he was slacking, getting sloppy. As if. What was more natural after all than a silly empty headed page boy who spent his free hours chasing pretty castle wenches? If that was what Kendrick thought he was up to, well then who was he to deny him! Besides, he didn’t have time to worry about that now. Right now he had to be focused. This ball was the best time to observe his prey. Granted he couldn’t take the hit with so many people around, but he could learn a lot! And Amaury was determined to spend every minute doing so.
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Stella sat quietly as she listened to her father and mother speak. Her father had a point, this wasn’t something they could escape without consequences; but that didn’t mean she was going to roll over and stop looking for a way to change this. The marriages held off war due to tradition, but it did not settle the conflict between them; and forcefully wed rulers probably did not help the distaste between nations. Staring into the fire burning in the hearth, Stella couldn’t help but huff at her mother’s words. “She doesn’t have to make this sound like a death sentence.” she whispered to herself. True she would miss her home, and was afraid of leaving behind what was familiar; but she felt equally sorry for the princesses who would not only be dragged down below the earth, but stuck to deal with this woman who was far from a doting mother.
Forcing herself to slip back into her role of a lady with an emotionless face, Stella watched her sister’s pleading before turning back to the fire with an unbearable ache in her heart. She may not have ever been as close to her sister as she wished, but she was still her sister nonetheless; and she hated feeling so helpless. “And how are the future rulers of the Water Nation to rule from underground, Gethen?” she asked softly, still staring into the fire. “And I suppose swimming lessons would be a good place for both of us to start. May even be considered blasphemous to the princes and they ship us back underground.” Trying to put a smile on her own face, she could tell it was just as empty as the one in her room that morning. With a final reassuring squeeze to Layla’s hand, Stella turned to their father with the question she honestly did not want answered. “When do we leave?”
Forcing herself to slip back into her role of a lady with an emotionless face, Stella watched her sister’s pleading before turning back to the fire with an unbearable ache in her heart. She may not have ever been as close to her sister as she wished, but she was still her sister nonetheless; and she hated feeling so helpless. “And how are the future rulers of the Water Nation to rule from underground, Gethen?” she asked softly, still staring into the fire. “And I suppose swimming lessons would be a good place for both of us to start. May even be considered blasphemous to the princes and they ship us back underground.” Trying to put a smile on her own face, she could tell it was just as empty as the one in her room that morning. With a final reassuring squeeze to Layla’s hand, Stella turned to their father with the question she honestly did not want answered. “When do we leave?”
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Layla’s eyes were focused on the floor as she listened to the king’s powerful voice. She agreed with every word he said, it was in her to do so but she found with every passing moment and every ache of her princess’ heart, her own opinions were starting to form. The nations continued to war with one another, their differences never ceased so why did this tradition continue? True yes it kept something bigger from blooming but nothing was ever really solved and it broke so many hearts, it just seemed silly to her.
The sound of Stella whispering caught her attention and soon she spoke in a louder voice as she tried to lighten the mood with a small joke. She gave her hand a squeeze and Layla sighed, feeling all the weight her friend did as she returned the gesture, rubbing Stella’s hand with her thumb. Her ears perked up, listening for the moment they would depart.
The sound of Stella whispering caught her attention and soon she spoke in a louder voice as she tried to lighten the mood with a small joke. She gave her hand a squeeze and Layla sighed, feeling all the weight her friend did as she returned the gesture, rubbing Stella’s hand with her thumb. Her ears perked up, listening for the moment they would depart.
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Garion
Truthfully, nothing comforted Garion at this point, and he clutched his wife's hand warily. Never had he felt such a burden weigh on his shoulders and he took no pleasure in telling his offspring what needed to be done—it was something he always dreaded, something that made time seem like grains of sand in an hourglass. Time had passed far too quickly and now he was given the task of giving away his precious daughters, and wedding his unprepared sons to complete strangers. They would not be ready, he knew that. He was forcing them into positions he'd suffered, even though he would've chosen a different path if he had the option, and he abhorred it. Nothing could be done and he felt useless. The King's position, he thought bitterly, only commanded so much power.
As Aedre spoke, the King fell silent and brooded, leaning his face into his tightened fist. What was the point of continuing the conversation? He knew full-well that it would not make them feel any better, there was nothing they could say to make their sons and daughters comfortably slump into their destined positions. Each and everyone of them were stubborn—a trait they'd gotten from both parents, it wasn't something they could easily brush off. When they were young, Garion had always taught them not to be subjected to ridicule and to continuously question things they believed to be wrong. His teachings always proved to be a double-edged sword, but he was proud whenever he'd seen their proud chins stuck up in the air, indignant and strong. Now, in a matter of hours, he would lose the two most precious things in his life and he felt weak. What was the point of being a father... if he couldn't protect those dear to him? “Enough.” It was not a request, but a command. Denying his tongue the words he wanted to say to dear Gethen, his headstrong daughter, his eyebrows furrowed at the pained look across her face before he sighed guardedly. Even Stella, his beautiful and wise daughter, held her tongue—that helpless look dancing in her eyes, and he thanked the Gods' Layla was at her side.
“Nothing can be done to change tradition, Gethen,” Garion repeated, crisply and clearly. Dropping his fist from his face, he clutched the arm of the chair and slumped in his seat. Negotiating didn't exist in the gathering—complaints were heard on deaf ears, and refusal meant outright war between Nations. There was no leeway to be given, couldn't they understand that? Couldn't they understand how much he wanted to say that it was their choice, that they didn't need to? A tight-lipped frown spread across his lips as he patted the top of Aedre's hand absently, as if to make sure she was still there. Relaying his sympathy would not be best at this point, if they wished to speak to him after their “family meeting” was finished, so be it. They would need time to pack their things in the mean time. Perhaps this will change in the future, he thought vividly, his dark eyes falling on each of them. But now, it would remain the same. Stubborn traditions among stubborn men who feared change. It nearly made him sick. He knew that his sons felt the same way, but they would oblige in the old traditions to please them, or for the better of their Nation. Either way, his heavy heart soared with pride—his two boys, he would see them grow stronger and wiser. At least he'd been given that small luxery. “We could only hope.” He mouthed, a weak smile twitching at the corners of his lip at Stella's attempt to lighten the mood. “You all leave soon, in a matter of hours. It would be wise to ready yourselves for the journey above ground. Phallus and Hanza will be aiding you in your preparations while I prepare our transportation.”
Zenith
Dreaded silence claimed Zenith's throat, kept it shut tight as his father spoke and he found no logical retort. He knew when the argument was won as well as Vincent did, he only exchanged wary glances with him before taking a deep breath. There was nothing that could be done, this only verified that. They would be dragged along to the gathering, pushed into the bosoms of their wedded wives and husbands and expected to “play nice.” If not, war would ensue and it would be their fault—more suffering and famine and death would befall their Nation. It wasn't enough that they suffered stubbornly in the depths, without much support from the surface.
When the conversation slowed and Stella finally asked the question they'd all been thinking, Zenith's dark eyes rose and fell onto his parents. Leaving in a matter of hours? Time seemed fruitless now, accelerated and abrupt, and they'd only have time to pamper themselves to look pretty for their fiancées. The thought roiled nauseatingly in his head as he sank further into his chair. Unable to think of any way to escape his fate, Zenith felt powerless and vulnerable. Never had there been a time where he couldn't worm or weasel his way out of a particular situation he disagreed with. Now that everything was finalized, he couldn't find the words to support Gethen's complaints. He only stood to his feet as the King announced when they'd take their leave, whispered something under his breath to excuse himself and strode out of the door. He was only too happy to leave the tension behind in that massive room, ignoring the wary glances of councillors as they gaped after him—obviously, they'd been eavesdropping, but every time he met their crooked-nosed faces, his ears flushed red with anger. Anger wasn't something he was generally familiar with. He'd always been the calm and collected one in the family, taking everything in strides because he was three steps ahead of them. Logic played an important role in his life and now that reason was thrown out the door, he was being forced to play his hand in this silly, traditional game.
“A vicious cycle, pathetic.”
Truthfully, nothing comforted Garion at this point, and he clutched his wife's hand warily. Never had he felt such a burden weigh on his shoulders and he took no pleasure in telling his offspring what needed to be done—it was something he always dreaded, something that made time seem like grains of sand in an hourglass. Time had passed far too quickly and now he was given the task of giving away his precious daughters, and wedding his unprepared sons to complete strangers. They would not be ready, he knew that. He was forcing them into positions he'd suffered, even though he would've chosen a different path if he had the option, and he abhorred it. Nothing could be done and he felt useless. The King's position, he thought bitterly, only commanded so much power.
As Aedre spoke, the King fell silent and brooded, leaning his face into his tightened fist. What was the point of continuing the conversation? He knew full-well that it would not make them feel any better, there was nothing they could say to make their sons and daughters comfortably slump into their destined positions. Each and everyone of them were stubborn—a trait they'd gotten from both parents, it wasn't something they could easily brush off. When they were young, Garion had always taught them not to be subjected to ridicule and to continuously question things they believed to be wrong. His teachings always proved to be a double-edged sword, but he was proud whenever he'd seen their proud chins stuck up in the air, indignant and strong. Now, in a matter of hours, he would lose the two most precious things in his life and he felt weak. What was the point of being a father... if he couldn't protect those dear to him? “Enough.” It was not a request, but a command. Denying his tongue the words he wanted to say to dear Gethen, his headstrong daughter, his eyebrows furrowed at the pained look across her face before he sighed guardedly. Even Stella, his beautiful and wise daughter, held her tongue—that helpless look dancing in her eyes, and he thanked the Gods' Layla was at her side.
“Nothing can be done to change tradition, Gethen,” Garion repeated, crisply and clearly. Dropping his fist from his face, he clutched the arm of the chair and slumped in his seat. Negotiating didn't exist in the gathering—complaints were heard on deaf ears, and refusal meant outright war between Nations. There was no leeway to be given, couldn't they understand that? Couldn't they understand how much he wanted to say that it was their choice, that they didn't need to? A tight-lipped frown spread across his lips as he patted the top of Aedre's hand absently, as if to make sure she was still there. Relaying his sympathy would not be best at this point, if they wished to speak to him after their “family meeting” was finished, so be it. They would need time to pack their things in the mean time. Perhaps this will change in the future, he thought vividly, his dark eyes falling on each of them. But now, it would remain the same. Stubborn traditions among stubborn men who feared change. It nearly made him sick. He knew that his sons felt the same way, but they would oblige in the old traditions to please them, or for the better of their Nation. Either way, his heavy heart soared with pride—his two boys, he would see them grow stronger and wiser. At least he'd been given that small luxery. “We could only hope.” He mouthed, a weak smile twitching at the corners of his lip at Stella's attempt to lighten the mood. “You all leave soon, in a matter of hours. It would be wise to ready yourselves for the journey above ground. Phallus and Hanza will be aiding you in your preparations while I prepare our transportation.”
Zenith
Dreaded silence claimed Zenith's throat, kept it shut tight as his father spoke and he found no logical retort. He knew when the argument was won as well as Vincent did, he only exchanged wary glances with him before taking a deep breath. There was nothing that could be done, this only verified that. They would be dragged along to the gathering, pushed into the bosoms of their wedded wives and husbands and expected to “play nice.” If not, war would ensue and it would be their fault—more suffering and famine and death would befall their Nation. It wasn't enough that they suffered stubbornly in the depths, without much support from the surface.
When the conversation slowed and Stella finally asked the question they'd all been thinking, Zenith's dark eyes rose and fell onto his parents. Leaving in a matter of hours? Time seemed fruitless now, accelerated and abrupt, and they'd only have time to pamper themselves to look pretty for their fiancées. The thought roiled nauseatingly in his head as he sank further into his chair. Unable to think of any way to escape his fate, Zenith felt powerless and vulnerable. Never had there been a time where he couldn't worm or weasel his way out of a particular situation he disagreed with. Now that everything was finalized, he couldn't find the words to support Gethen's complaints. He only stood to his feet as the King announced when they'd take their leave, whispered something under his breath to excuse himself and strode out of the door. He was only too happy to leave the tension behind in that massive room, ignoring the wary glances of councillors as they gaped after him—obviously, they'd been eavesdropping, but every time he met their crooked-nosed faces, his ears flushed red with anger. Anger wasn't something he was generally familiar with. He'd always been the calm and collected one in the family, taking everything in strides because he was three steps ahead of them. Logic played an important role in his life and now that reason was thrown out the door, he was being forced to play his hand in this silly, traditional game.
“A vicious cycle, pathetic.”
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WIND NATION
Ciara had her arms crossed over her chest, subconsciously she was extremely uncomfortable and anxious. Though she never wore black, her gown was as dark as night. A lacy corset met a silk flowing bottom and it fit her like a glove. It was a symbol for how she was feeling and where she was going. Her dark hair was in an array of curls engulfing her face as if it was a curtain ready to be hidden behind. She had on her sapphire necklace that enhanced her powers, one she never took off, and a pair of simple sapphire studs. She worked hard to hold back her emotions, not wanting to seem weak. The last thing she wanted to do was to leave her loved ones, or her beloved sky. However, she had no choice.
"It can't be so bad," she offered, as pleasantly as possible. "At least you girls aren't marrying someone like Sebastian."
Ciara tried to smile politely at Cecilia's attempted words of comfort. She knew Cecilia was only trying to make her feel better, but it was a hopeless cause. Ciara truly did feel like a part of her was dying, or at least being sent away indefinately. She wondered what her future husband was like. Would he be scary? He was from the Dark Nation. Though who was she to judge? He could be a perfectly nice person. She hoped so. Nothing would rub salt in her wounds like spending the rest of your life with a monster.
"I'm sure it will be.." Ciara struggled to find the right word. "..different."
Ciara had her arms crossed over her chest, subconsciously she was extremely uncomfortable and anxious. Though she never wore black, her gown was as dark as night. A lacy corset met a silk flowing bottom and it fit her like a glove. It was a symbol for how she was feeling and where she was going. Her dark hair was in an array of curls engulfing her face as if it was a curtain ready to be hidden behind. She had on her sapphire necklace that enhanced her powers, one she never took off, and a pair of simple sapphire studs. She worked hard to hold back her emotions, not wanting to seem weak. The last thing she wanted to do was to leave her loved ones, or her beloved sky. However, she had no choice.
"It can't be so bad," she offered, as pleasantly as possible. "At least you girls aren't marrying someone like Sebastian."
Ciara tried to smile politely at Cecilia's attempted words of comfort. She knew Cecilia was only trying to make her feel better, but it was a hopeless cause. Ciara truly did feel like a part of her was dying, or at least being sent away indefinately. She wondered what her future husband was like. Would he be scary? He was from the Dark Nation. Though who was she to judge? He could be a perfectly nice person. She hoped so. Nothing would rub salt in her wounds like spending the rest of your life with a monster.
"I'm sure it will be.." Ciara struggled to find the right word. "..different."
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*water nation*
"Well," Oliver began, scratching the back of his head slowly. "I suppose we can't wander to a peace core with the royal regiment, can we? Its good to have a man of perhaps less tanic origins protect us in the off chance that things don't proceed completely array."
Oliver outstretched his hand to the man and gave him a smile. He wasn't a specific man when it came to his friends. He had come from the streets, after all, where the more friends one had the better off that one was. Of course, there was a certain National opinion that held itself in each Water Nation citizens. An opinion of the other Nations, and how they were one thing or another. The opinion of the Nation itself was one of greatness. The thing that separated the Water Nation, in Oliver's eyes, and in the eyes of most he had met in the Nation, was its properness, and the feeling of properness in each of its citizens. Things seemed clear on the streets. You got your job done swiftly and with discipline, whether that job was thatching a net or painting a royal portrait, you did it with discipline. You did it proper. If you were a street cleaner or an academic in the emerging mental sciences, studying a new illness of the mind and its prognosis, you did it with discipline. The other Nations lacked discipline, lacked civility, or lacked culture. Kvan Skyheart was a product of barbarity, no doubt, but not a savage. He understood how to behave, and he seemed nice, and capable. Those three things alone were enough to win over Oliver.
"Your power over wind is impressive," Oliver said to the man. "I don't know the details of wind control or of Wind mages. We ourselves take the few water mages we are gifted with and put them into the highest academies. There they gain knowledge of literature, knowledge of art, knowledge of diplomacy, knowledge of engineering, knowledge of history, knowledge of mythic history, knowledge of alchemy, and knowledge of the forefather mages and the properties they've discovered. After that they pay service to our country in one way or another, either as statesmen, battle advisers, naval men. Any area of usefulness that the King Father, our father, sees fit. And they perform. There's not a Water Mage that is not under Royal Contracts. We are quite proud of them."
Oliver paused, realizing he had gone off subject. "Of course our Mages are not masters of discretion. Its as easy to spot them out in a crowd as it is a peasant in the castle. You on the other hand managed to manipulate the temperature of a small space over time without the her majesty noticing at all. That displays both the subtlety you can display and magnificent tact. Your services as our escort are deeply appreciated, Mister Skyheart. I fully approve." Oliver turned to the Queen and then back to Kvan. "Not to over step my bounds, as it is not my position to approve for you, mother. Unless of course you have already approved him, in which case my word would just be an added secondary weight of approval. Or possibly a sign of approval for my own servants, and, in theory, the future, fictitious house of power I may hold in future times, as the elder Prince, our Uncle, holds."
Oliver paused, realizing he was ranting. "I think hes a good choice, mother. A fine man," He said after a pause.
"Well," Oliver began, scratching the back of his head slowly. "I suppose we can't wander to a peace core with the royal regiment, can we? Its good to have a man of perhaps less tanic origins protect us in the off chance that things don't proceed completely array."
Oliver outstretched his hand to the man and gave him a smile. He wasn't a specific man when it came to his friends. He had come from the streets, after all, where the more friends one had the better off that one was. Of course, there was a certain National opinion that held itself in each Water Nation citizens. An opinion of the other Nations, and how they were one thing or another. The opinion of the Nation itself was one of greatness. The thing that separated the Water Nation, in Oliver's eyes, and in the eyes of most he had met in the Nation, was its properness, and the feeling of properness in each of its citizens. Things seemed clear on the streets. You got your job done swiftly and with discipline, whether that job was thatching a net or painting a royal portrait, you did it with discipline. You did it proper. If you were a street cleaner or an academic in the emerging mental sciences, studying a new illness of the mind and its prognosis, you did it with discipline. The other Nations lacked discipline, lacked civility, or lacked culture. Kvan Skyheart was a product of barbarity, no doubt, but not a savage. He understood how to behave, and he seemed nice, and capable. Those three things alone were enough to win over Oliver.
"Your power over wind is impressive," Oliver said to the man. "I don't know the details of wind control or of Wind mages. We ourselves take the few water mages we are gifted with and put them into the highest academies. There they gain knowledge of literature, knowledge of art, knowledge of diplomacy, knowledge of engineering, knowledge of history, knowledge of mythic history, knowledge of alchemy, and knowledge of the forefather mages and the properties they've discovered. After that they pay service to our country in one way or another, either as statesmen, battle advisers, naval men. Any area of usefulness that the King Father, our father, sees fit. And they perform. There's not a Water Mage that is not under Royal Contracts. We are quite proud of them."
Oliver paused, realizing he had gone off subject. "Of course our Mages are not masters of discretion. Its as easy to spot them out in a crowd as it is a peasant in the castle. You on the other hand managed to manipulate the temperature of a small space over time without the her majesty noticing at all. That displays both the subtlety you can display and magnificent tact. Your services as our escort are deeply appreciated, Mister Skyheart. I fully approve." Oliver turned to the Queen and then back to Kvan. "Not to over step my bounds, as it is not my position to approve for you, mother. Unless of course you have already approved him, in which case my word would just be an added secondary weight of approval. Or possibly a sign of approval for my own servants, and, in theory, the future, fictitious house of power I may hold in future times, as the elder Prince, our Uncle, holds."
Oliver paused, realizing he was ranting. "I think hes a good choice, mother. A fine man," He said after a pause.
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~ Dress , Tiara , Hair , Shoes ~
The ride in the servant’s carriage was a quiet one, asides from the quiet whispers between the others about Layla’s appearance. Of course she shrugged it off, the princess had only pulled her hair up and put a bit of makeup on her for goodness sake. Little did she know the so called simple dress was an elegant and beautiful ball gown, she could of course feel the beading on it but Stella had assured her it was nothing too lavish and she believed her princess. Of course the so called metal headband was a little odd but if it’s what was popular now she supposed she would wear it. Enough of thinking of her outfit though, they were on the surface! How exciting was that and yet how nerve racking! This would be the first time for her or her princess to set foot on the surface world. However exciting it may be it was outweighed by fear for Layla, the underground kingdom she had memorized step by step but here her disability caught up with her. Here, she was truly blind.
Soon, the carriages pulled to a stop and no sooner had Layla stepped out of the carriage did Stella’s voice greet her. “Oh, princess it was a lovely ride but there were many murmurs about my appearance. I promise I’m not second guessing you but are you sure what you put me in is appropriate?” It was obvious she wasn’t getting an answer by the way she babbled on about the fresh air, mapping out the land and music. Oh dear, this didn’t bode well at all she was afraid. “Why yes the air is quite refreshing isn’t it.” She gave a grin as she followed Stella’s gentle tugs until the overbearing smell of alcohol hit her and Stella addressed someone . Ah, it must be her brother Vincent, he was one who enjoyed his drink. It couldn’t be helped but Layla giggled at how loud Stella had addressed Vincent, obviously trying to annoy a hangover he might possibly have but she quickly silenced herself and looked away with innocence.
The ride in the servant’s carriage was a quiet one, asides from the quiet whispers between the others about Layla’s appearance. Of course she shrugged it off, the princess had only pulled her hair up and put a bit of makeup on her for goodness sake. Little did she know the so called simple dress was an elegant and beautiful ball gown, she could of course feel the beading on it but Stella had assured her it was nothing too lavish and she believed her princess. Of course the so called metal headband was a little odd but if it’s what was popular now she supposed she would wear it. Enough of thinking of her outfit though, they were on the surface! How exciting was that and yet how nerve racking! This would be the first time for her or her princess to set foot on the surface world. However exciting it may be it was outweighed by fear for Layla, the underground kingdom she had memorized step by step but here her disability caught up with her. Here, she was truly blind.
Soon, the carriages pulled to a stop and no sooner had Layla stepped out of the carriage did Stella’s voice greet her. “Oh, princess it was a lovely ride but there were many murmurs about my appearance. I promise I’m not second guessing you but are you sure what you put me in is appropriate?” It was obvious she wasn’t getting an answer by the way she babbled on about the fresh air, mapping out the land and music. Oh dear, this didn’t bode well at all she was afraid. “Why yes the air is quite refreshing isn’t it.” She gave a grin as she followed Stella’s gentle tugs until the overbearing smell of alcohol hit her and Stella addressed someone . Ah, it must be her brother Vincent, he was one who enjoyed his drink. It couldn’t be helped but Layla giggled at how loud Stella had addressed Vincent, obviously trying to annoy a hangover he might possibly have but she quickly silenced herself and looked away with innocence.
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[[Light nation - Athanasius]
For his part Athy had spent the helicopter ride doing absolutely nothing whatever. He hadn't brough a laptop with him or anything. He felt that this was one time in his life when he really ought to focus on the matter of state, and at least pretend to be interested in what was going on. It was, after all, in all likelihood going to end with him married, so that was quite a big deal. His outfit was fairly similar to his brother's, except that he had been allocated a charcoal grey suit by the event planners so as to differentiate them.
After Hayden alighted the chopper, Athy followed and looked around slowly. So many people had arrived already. This was, of course, the first time he'd seen the Dusseteu Gardens, since they only emerged every twenty years. But even for someone not easilly impressed, the sight was enough to draw a gasp, not least for the way it had been prepared by the officials from all nations who'd travelled ahead of their respective royalties.
For his part Athy had spent the helicopter ride doing absolutely nothing whatever. He hadn't brough a laptop with him or anything. He felt that this was one time in his life when he really ought to focus on the matter of state, and at least pretend to be interested in what was going on. It was, after all, in all likelihood going to end with him married, so that was quite a big deal. His outfit was fairly similar to his brother's, except that he had been allocated a charcoal grey suit by the event planners so as to differentiate them.
After Hayden alighted the chopper, Athy followed and looked around slowly. So many people had arrived already. This was, of course, the first time he'd seen the Dusseteu Gardens, since they only emerged every twenty years. But even for someone not easilly impressed, the sight was enough to draw a gasp, not least for the way it had been prepared by the officials from all nations who'd travelled ahead of their respective royalties.
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http://browse.deviantart.com/?qh=§i ... s#/d1lh0bf - Gethens dress/shoes/acessories.
http://browse.deviantart.com/?q=megan%2 ... 8#/d2wubtm - Hair.
Gethen spent the rest of her day letting the Dark nation know how unhappy she was. Everything breakable broke, everything smashable smashed, anything that was open to damaged felt a blow here and there from the furious princess who did everything extra vigorously. From attempting to dress herself and barking the maids out of the room to calling Hanza back in after he'd freely fled along with them.
Before dressing she glared at her own reflection snapping that she wanted to look her worst but in the end Hanza did..well a 'Hanza' and left her looking tempting to dazzle. Everything Gethen didnt want was occurring around her, time was slipping through her fingers and hours came like minutes in her mind until she was faced with the skeletal, leather skinned horse due to pull her to her doom.
She'd sat in the carriage with the other members of her family eyes either diverted to the floor or glaring at the others. Twiddling her thumbs anxiously like she had done in the journey up to level earth and after a journey several times around her gut with nerves they were there. The carriage crawled to a halt.
The door opened and Vincent stepped out first smelling strongly of spirits, Stella was next with a secret smile upon her face as if she had something planned to make the evening seem brighter and then Gethen who could stand waiting another second stepped out of the carriage slapping away the hand offered to assist her.
She stood for a moment. Inhaling the cool evening air, without dampness without soil, just pure air. Gethen sighed though to others it may seem cold to those of the dark nation it was warm and stuffy after living in the cool underground fortress. She glanced to the side seeing Stella making off with a servant dressed in one of her gowns looking more like a rich cousin than a servant maid. Gethen hoped the prince mistake Layla to be the second princess then Gethen could go home with her brothers. Problems solved. Besides Stella and her blind servant girl Gethen took her own guilty pleasure of searching for Hanza. She'd stowed him away as one of the servants to attend even though he was less of a servant than most.
She found him leaving a carriage chatting to a group of maids who swooned around him foolishly seeing Gethen knew where Hanza heart lied and it most definitely wasnt with them. "Hanza" she called walking briskily over hearing her heels clip against the path as wind got under her dress sending the feather light trail whisking out behind.
Hanza watched her approach and if he were any way male inclined his heart would be in his mouth. Gethen had always been something he'd admired. A Diamond amongst crystals. Stella was a Ruby and though Gethen wore red tonight and tried to dress up as a ruby she would always be...a diamond. Hanza loved the princess in a seperate way to lust or family. She was something he'd carved with his own hands, something the king and queen and produced and presented to him and he had worked with what they'd given until he was confronted by this. Gethen today. A dark nation beauty.
"Thank goodness i have you here- you'll beat that water fairy away if he jumps me wont you" she exclaimed upon reaching him. Hanza nodded earnestly. "With these bare hands of mine my Princess i will tear the man to shreads and face a perilous excecution after assinating a Prince and provoking war amongst nations" he pledged offering his arm for her to take. Gethen smiled at him. "Thats what i like to hear" she murmured through her lips before starting towards the foreign building- a place of horrors she felt hiding amongst the foriegn beauty.
http://browse.deviantart.com/?q=megan%2 ... 8#/d2wubtm - Hair.
Gethen spent the rest of her day letting the Dark nation know how unhappy she was. Everything breakable broke, everything smashable smashed, anything that was open to damaged felt a blow here and there from the furious princess who did everything extra vigorously. From attempting to dress herself and barking the maids out of the room to calling Hanza back in after he'd freely fled along with them.
Before dressing she glared at her own reflection snapping that she wanted to look her worst but in the end Hanza did..well a 'Hanza' and left her looking tempting to dazzle. Everything Gethen didnt want was occurring around her, time was slipping through her fingers and hours came like minutes in her mind until she was faced with the skeletal, leather skinned horse due to pull her to her doom.
She'd sat in the carriage with the other members of her family eyes either diverted to the floor or glaring at the others. Twiddling her thumbs anxiously like she had done in the journey up to level earth and after a journey several times around her gut with nerves they were there. The carriage crawled to a halt.
The door opened and Vincent stepped out first smelling strongly of spirits, Stella was next with a secret smile upon her face as if she had something planned to make the evening seem brighter and then Gethen who could stand waiting another second stepped out of the carriage slapping away the hand offered to assist her.
She stood for a moment. Inhaling the cool evening air, without dampness without soil, just pure air. Gethen sighed though to others it may seem cold to those of the dark nation it was warm and stuffy after living in the cool underground fortress. She glanced to the side seeing Stella making off with a servant dressed in one of her gowns looking more like a rich cousin than a servant maid. Gethen hoped the prince mistake Layla to be the second princess then Gethen could go home with her brothers. Problems solved. Besides Stella and her blind servant girl Gethen took her own guilty pleasure of searching for Hanza. She'd stowed him away as one of the servants to attend even though he was less of a servant than most.
She found him leaving a carriage chatting to a group of maids who swooned around him foolishly seeing Gethen knew where Hanza heart lied and it most definitely wasnt with them. "Hanza" she called walking briskily over hearing her heels clip against the path as wind got under her dress sending the feather light trail whisking out behind.
Hanza watched her approach and if he were any way male inclined his heart would be in his mouth. Gethen had always been something he'd admired. A Diamond amongst crystals. Stella was a Ruby and though Gethen wore red tonight and tried to dress up as a ruby she would always be...a diamond. Hanza loved the princess in a seperate way to lust or family. She was something he'd carved with his own hands, something the king and queen and produced and presented to him and he had worked with what they'd given until he was confronted by this. Gethen today. A dark nation beauty.
"Thank goodness i have you here- you'll beat that water fairy away if he jumps me wont you" she exclaimed upon reaching him. Hanza nodded earnestly. "With these bare hands of mine my Princess i will tear the man to shreads and face a perilous excecution after assinating a Prince and provoking war amongst nations" he pledged offering his arm for her to take. Gethen smiled at him. "Thats what i like to hear" she murmured through her lips before starting towards the foreign building- a place of horrors she felt hiding amongst the foriegn beauty.
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(Oliver's outfit)
Oliver adjusted the buttons of the rather plain grey suit in front of him. From behind his head, in the mirror, he could see two hands emerge and comb themselves through his hair. "Your hands have something on them, what is it?" Oliver asked as his hair maiden continued to work his hair.
"Just something to get the volume out of your hair. Make it fall like your families, your highness," The women said as she continued to apply the oddly thin substance.
"Well sir," Niles Roland Heartley said from beside the young Prince. "Are you ready for the Gathering?"
"Of course," Oliver replied almost instinctively. "You look a bit down Niles? Something a bother?" He asked after a pause, noticing his servants lack of whim.
"No sir, its just. Well, your father does his fullest to keep the Kingdom together. He is a master of diplomacy, and that mastery comes from experience. None of his children have been to the other Nations before, including yourself," Niles said slowly. "And the Gathering is a diplomatic mission, over all. Your father was trained by his father to conduct diplomacy far before his gathering, and when it was time he brought the Nations hope for a new Water Nation, a less war like one, one that could advance in all fields into a modern power. And he created that."
"I'm aware that our grand father was a much... harsher ruler then the King father," Oliver muttered as the women finished his hair. "And I'm aware what a great ruler father has been to the Nation. It feels like I'm the only one in the castle preaching these things."
"Yes, well, the point of words were not so much that your grand father was a ruler of less stature then his son, but rather that diplomacy can go very good, or very bad, and when a group of four untrained royal children wander to a gathering of the families that lead the world without the King who has saved this Nation monitoring their tongues things may turn sour."
"We will have mother, and we will have Nereus, who has been trained by father personally," Oliver said, turning from the mirror Niles.
Niles gave a small grunt. "Please, Nereus is not his father. Nereus could not save this Kingdom from invaders and keep hold of the colonies while the people themselves move on unsuspecting."
"Hold your tongue, Heartley, it turns treasonous," Oliver said, standing up beside the man.
"Apologies sir. I speak freely when I am around you, you know," Niles said, sitting on his small wooden chair. "You are my friend you know."
"I know," Oliver said, taking a small bowler hat from his bed and placing it on his head. "Wish me luck, eh Niles Roland Heartley?"
"The best of luck too you," Niles said with a small smile.
***
Oliver emerged from a set of oak doors and onto the main hall where Siris was waiting. "There she is, looking stunning as always," Oliver said with a smile as he approached his sister. On every step he took he placed his white stone cane down on the ground, as if it were a walking stick. Oliver had always enjoyed the small prop, and he barely ever got to use it without looking obnoxious. "So we are waiting for mother, Nereus, and Bria then?" Oliver asked. "And of course that wind nation escort Skyheart."
Oliver adjusted the buttons of the rather plain grey suit in front of him. From behind his head, in the mirror, he could see two hands emerge and comb themselves through his hair. "Your hands have something on them, what is it?" Oliver asked as his hair maiden continued to work his hair.
"Just something to get the volume out of your hair. Make it fall like your families, your highness," The women said as she continued to apply the oddly thin substance.
"Well sir," Niles Roland Heartley said from beside the young Prince. "Are you ready for the Gathering?"
"Of course," Oliver replied almost instinctively. "You look a bit down Niles? Something a bother?" He asked after a pause, noticing his servants lack of whim.
"No sir, its just. Well, your father does his fullest to keep the Kingdom together. He is a master of diplomacy, and that mastery comes from experience. None of his children have been to the other Nations before, including yourself," Niles said slowly. "And the Gathering is a diplomatic mission, over all. Your father was trained by his father to conduct diplomacy far before his gathering, and when it was time he brought the Nations hope for a new Water Nation, a less war like one, one that could advance in all fields into a modern power. And he created that."
"I'm aware that our grand father was a much... harsher ruler then the King father," Oliver muttered as the women finished his hair. "And I'm aware what a great ruler father has been to the Nation. It feels like I'm the only one in the castle preaching these things."
"Yes, well, the point of words were not so much that your grand father was a ruler of less stature then his son, but rather that diplomacy can go very good, or very bad, and when a group of four untrained royal children wander to a gathering of the families that lead the world without the King who has saved this Nation monitoring their tongues things may turn sour."
"We will have mother, and we will have Nereus, who has been trained by father personally," Oliver said, turning from the mirror Niles.
Niles gave a small grunt. "Please, Nereus is not his father. Nereus could not save this Kingdom from invaders and keep hold of the colonies while the people themselves move on unsuspecting."
"Hold your tongue, Heartley, it turns treasonous," Oliver said, standing up beside the man.
"Apologies sir. I speak freely when I am around you, you know," Niles said, sitting on his small wooden chair. "You are my friend you know."
"I know," Oliver said, taking a small bowler hat from his bed and placing it on his head. "Wish me luck, eh Niles Roland Heartley?"
"The best of luck too you," Niles said with a small smile.
***
Oliver emerged from a set of oak doors and onto the main hall where Siris was waiting. "There she is, looking stunning as always," Oliver said with a smile as he approached his sister. On every step he took he placed his white stone cane down on the ground, as if it were a walking stick. Oliver had always enjoyed the small prop, and he barely ever got to use it without looking obnoxious. "So we are waiting for mother, Nereus, and Bria then?" Oliver asked. "And of course that wind nation escort Skyheart."
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HAYDEN
Hayden offered his brother an encouraging smile before nodding towards the ball, "I'll see you inside Athy. Orchid obviously has some things to attend to before she goes in." He said, as they had been waiting for their sister for some time now. Hayden knew very well that Orchid could handle things by herself, so he would be happy to just meet her inside the ball. It would give him time to talk with some of the other royals before any of the formal affairs began.
Once inside, Hayden took a stroll around the room to greet familiar faces. He took the time to speak to the officials from the other nations before taking a break to grab a drink. There were a lot of women in the room at the moment, all dressed in beautiful gowns, so it was hard to tell which nation everyone was from (or even if they were royalty or not). His sky blue eyes caught the figure of a slim built woman in a light pink gown who was obviously removed from the entire situation, eyes calmly locked on the band as she enjoyed the music. He could tell by the way that she stood, a sort of simple elegance, that she had to be royalty. He didn't think she was from the Water Nation (his future wife had been described to him earlier and she did not fit the description), but she looked like a kind person to talk to.
He made his way across the room, apologizing for accidentally bumping into one individual, and finally made it to the young woman...
-----------------------------------------------------------
ZOOEY
Zooey had been listening to the music for a few minutes now, letting the soaring melody wrap its soothing warmth around her body. The musicians were exceptional and she made a mental note to speak to them after, to ensure that they knew their music was appreciated. A flash of movement caught her eye at that time, as she felt someone looking at her.
Zooey turned to look at a young man that seemed very familiar. He had light blond hair and a small but lean build and was dressed in armor. He looked clearly uncomfortable after having seen her, causing her to feel confused for a moment. She searched her mind for any memory of him and it took her a moment before it clicked. It was Kvan Skyheart. She had met him only once, on good terms, but had been informed that he was a traitor who was stealing from the royal family. It was amazing to Zooey that people could lie and steal so easily. She would never have the heart for it.
Instead of threatening him, sending the guards after him, or even giving him a dirty look... she smiled. It was a smile of calm greeting, no threat at all in her delicately featured face, and she mouthed "Hello" before turning her attention back to the musicians. She had been standing silently for another few minutes before a handsome gentleman appeared next to her.
"Good evening, miss. I'm Hayden of the Light Nation." He said, bowing politely as he spoke before reaching a hand out to take her own.
Zooey smiled brightly at him, curtsying gracefully as she extended her hand to take his own, "Pleasure to meet you Hayden. I'm Zooey of the Wind Nation." She was happy to have someone to talk to, though slightly disappointed that it wasn't the Dark Nation Prince. Hayden wasn't bad on the eyes and he was a complete gentleman, but he wasn't her future husband. A pity, really, but perhaps he could be a new friend.
"What do you make of the evening so far, Zooey?" Hayden asked, looking down at the woman with a boyishly handsome smile.
"I think it's lovely." Zooey said, gesturing at the extravagant room, "Though it certainly would be more enjoyable if we weren't to be ushered away with strangers by the end of the night." She added with a laugh and shrug that seemed to say 'but what can you do?'.
Hayden laughed and nodded in agreement before launching into a conversation about their Nations. The pair talked animatedly for a while, enjoying the company of a new friend as the rest of the royalty poured in.
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EVELYNNE and VINCENT
Eve had excused herself from the royal family, explaining that she was going to ensure everything was prepared for their introductions later in the evening. While she wasn't the individual designated for the task, she was expected to double check that everything would run smoothly. While making her way to the castle, her white clad body looking angelic in the moonlight, she saw the Wind Nation land. From across the large gardens she could hear one of the princes talking loudly and thought she heard his name was Kalmut. Her bright green eyes took in his handsome face and tall lean body for a moment before he opened his mouth and started bothering who she could only assume was her brother. He certainly was handsome, but why was she bothering looking? He looked like he was most likely the eldest Wind Nation prince, therefor betrothed to Veta.
I'll go find myself a hot bar tender. That's more on my level. She thought to herself, rolling her eyes, and then walked into the beautiful castle. She spent the next ten minutes speaking with the Earth Nation representatives to ensure everything was still running smoothly. Once she was sure everything was okay, she excused herself and went to get a drink. She'd need a stiff one if she was ever going to get through this night.
Vincent had already finished his second drink before many of the other princes and princesses had entered the ball room. He took a third from the bar tender, not bothering to thank him, and let his dark eyes roam around the room. They fell upon a stunning blond woman, clad in pure white with an exceptionally voluptuous body. She moved with power and grace, a stride that demanded attention and respect.
"Something strong, please." Evelynne said as she reached the bar, smiling coyly at the bar tender. He returned the smile and set about mixing her a drink in a tall crystal glass.
"Let me guess. Fire Nation?"
"Excuse me?" Evelynne asked, accepting the drink from the bar tender before turning to look over her shoulder at the man who had spoken to her. He was tall with broad shoulders and a handsome but cold face. Dark Nation Prince. She thought at once, no doubt in her mind about who he was.
"The way you carry yourself. You must be from the Fire Nation." Vincent said, his mouth pulled into a confident smirk, "Wish you were from the Wind Nation, though."
Evelynne looked at him with a mixture of amusement and disgust, taking a slow sip of the sparkling gold liquid, "I'm from the Earth Nation, actually. Good luck to your future wife." She said smoothly, not bothering to waste any more time in his presence. She immediately turned and walked away from him, leaving the clearly aggravated prince alone at the bar as he stared after the barebacked blond.
Hayden offered his brother an encouraging smile before nodding towards the ball, "I'll see you inside Athy. Orchid obviously has some things to attend to before she goes in." He said, as they had been waiting for their sister for some time now. Hayden knew very well that Orchid could handle things by herself, so he would be happy to just meet her inside the ball. It would give him time to talk with some of the other royals before any of the formal affairs began.
Once inside, Hayden took a stroll around the room to greet familiar faces. He took the time to speak to the officials from the other nations before taking a break to grab a drink. There were a lot of women in the room at the moment, all dressed in beautiful gowns, so it was hard to tell which nation everyone was from (or even if they were royalty or not). His sky blue eyes caught the figure of a slim built woman in a light pink gown who was obviously removed from the entire situation, eyes calmly locked on the band as she enjoyed the music. He could tell by the way that she stood, a sort of simple elegance, that she had to be royalty. He didn't think she was from the Water Nation (his future wife had been described to him earlier and she did not fit the description), but she looked like a kind person to talk to.
He made his way across the room, apologizing for accidentally bumping into one individual, and finally made it to the young woman...
-----------------------------------------------------------
ZOOEY
Zooey had been listening to the music for a few minutes now, letting the soaring melody wrap its soothing warmth around her body. The musicians were exceptional and she made a mental note to speak to them after, to ensure that they knew their music was appreciated. A flash of movement caught her eye at that time, as she felt someone looking at her.
Zooey turned to look at a young man that seemed very familiar. He had light blond hair and a small but lean build and was dressed in armor. He looked clearly uncomfortable after having seen her, causing her to feel confused for a moment. She searched her mind for any memory of him and it took her a moment before it clicked. It was Kvan Skyheart. She had met him only once, on good terms, but had been informed that he was a traitor who was stealing from the royal family. It was amazing to Zooey that people could lie and steal so easily. She would never have the heart for it.
Instead of threatening him, sending the guards after him, or even giving him a dirty look... she smiled. It was a smile of calm greeting, no threat at all in her delicately featured face, and she mouthed "Hello" before turning her attention back to the musicians. She had been standing silently for another few minutes before a handsome gentleman appeared next to her.
"Good evening, miss. I'm Hayden of the Light Nation." He said, bowing politely as he spoke before reaching a hand out to take her own.
Zooey smiled brightly at him, curtsying gracefully as she extended her hand to take his own, "Pleasure to meet you Hayden. I'm Zooey of the Wind Nation." She was happy to have someone to talk to, though slightly disappointed that it wasn't the Dark Nation Prince. Hayden wasn't bad on the eyes and he was a complete gentleman, but he wasn't her future husband. A pity, really, but perhaps he could be a new friend.
"What do you make of the evening so far, Zooey?" Hayden asked, looking down at the woman with a boyishly handsome smile.
"I think it's lovely." Zooey said, gesturing at the extravagant room, "Though it certainly would be more enjoyable if we weren't to be ushered away with strangers by the end of the night." She added with a laugh and shrug that seemed to say 'but what can you do?'.
Hayden laughed and nodded in agreement before launching into a conversation about their Nations. The pair talked animatedly for a while, enjoying the company of a new friend as the rest of the royalty poured in.
---------------------------------------------------------
EVELYNNE and VINCENT
Eve had excused herself from the royal family, explaining that she was going to ensure everything was prepared for their introductions later in the evening. While she wasn't the individual designated for the task, she was expected to double check that everything would run smoothly. While making her way to the castle, her white clad body looking angelic in the moonlight, she saw the Wind Nation land. From across the large gardens she could hear one of the princes talking loudly and thought she heard his name was Kalmut. Her bright green eyes took in his handsome face and tall lean body for a moment before he opened his mouth and started bothering who she could only assume was her brother. He certainly was handsome, but why was she bothering looking? He looked like he was most likely the eldest Wind Nation prince, therefor betrothed to Veta.
I'll go find myself a hot bar tender. That's more on my level. She thought to herself, rolling her eyes, and then walked into the beautiful castle. She spent the next ten minutes speaking with the Earth Nation representatives to ensure everything was still running smoothly. Once she was sure everything was okay, she excused herself and went to get a drink. She'd need a stiff one if she was ever going to get through this night.
Vincent had already finished his second drink before many of the other princes and princesses had entered the ball room. He took a third from the bar tender, not bothering to thank him, and let his dark eyes roam around the room. They fell upon a stunning blond woman, clad in pure white with an exceptionally voluptuous body. She moved with power and grace, a stride that demanded attention and respect.
"Something strong, please." Evelynne said as she reached the bar, smiling coyly at the bar tender. He returned the smile and set about mixing her a drink in a tall crystal glass.
"Let me guess. Fire Nation?"
"Excuse me?" Evelynne asked, accepting the drink from the bar tender before turning to look over her shoulder at the man who had spoken to her. He was tall with broad shoulders and a handsome but cold face. Dark Nation Prince. She thought at once, no doubt in her mind about who he was.
"The way you carry yourself. You must be from the Fire Nation." Vincent said, his mouth pulled into a confident smirk, "Wish you were from the Wind Nation, though."
Evelynne looked at him with a mixture of amusement and disgust, taking a slow sip of the sparkling gold liquid, "I'm from the Earth Nation, actually. Good luck to your future wife." She said smoothly, not bothering to waste any more time in his presence. She immediately turned and walked away from him, leaving the clearly aggravated prince alone at the bar as he stared after the barebacked blond.
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Layla kept a tight grasp on her friend’s hand, trying to hear her voice above all of the noise and babble in the ballroom. She could only imagine what it looked like but she could certainly feel, smell and hear the differences! It was very wonderful, all the new experiences but she had to focus on the needs of her princess and she immediately perked when Stella leaned over whispering about her brother and being jilted by some lady in white. “Oh goodness, poor Vincent, he’s having a tough time isn’t he?” She gave a smirk to the princess hearing her laugh, knowing how attached the two siblings were. Oh! Letters! Perhaps they could keep in contact with le-did she just say dance?! Layla was then all but dragged stumbling onto the dance floor. “Oh! Stella! I don’t think it’s appropriate for someone of your status to dance with a servant!!” She was spun about, and then dipped, then spun again and soon a giggle escaped her as she latched to her friend. Well, after all she was here to tend to her princess’ needs was she not? If she wanted to dance, then she would dance!
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Emma laughed, shaking her head. "I do not mean for us to dance, Mr. Skyheart." She smiled. "Not just yet, anyway." She turned behind her, checking to make sure the rest of her her little family made it into the Gardens. Poor Oliver was looking a little ill, and she smiled at him reassuringly. The poor dear--at least he wasn't being married to a total stranger and being uprooted from his home all in one night. "Perhaps we can just walk through the crowd--I'm looking for my brother."
Emma frowned as Nereus passed among them, unnerved by his lack in faith for her. It had been a niggling problem more and more these days. Brushing it off, she smiled and leaned in conspiratorially to Kvan. "My son the Crown Prince has been eagerly adjusting to his title as of late. He seems to forget that he is not yet ruling." She stepped forward into the crowd, bringing him with her. "Recently it seems he does not remember that I helped his father for twenty years prior to his newfound sense of responsibility." She was a little annoyed, she might admit, but she was practiced in turning such emotions into something that can be easily laughed off.
Besides, it was good to see her son was interested to take over the post when the time came; she was just exasperated that he seemed to find it necessary to overstep his bounds on occasion. His mother was not all tea parties and flirtations--she had, after all, been raised in the ruthless Underground, and not just that, she was raised to rule. She knew how to behave and she knew how to organize her children's outfits; she didn't need someone else assuming she would do it wrong, let alone her own son.
Emma frowned as Nereus passed among them, unnerved by his lack in faith for her. It had been a niggling problem more and more these days. Brushing it off, she smiled and leaned in conspiratorially to Kvan. "My son the Crown Prince has been eagerly adjusting to his title as of late. He seems to forget that he is not yet ruling." She stepped forward into the crowd, bringing him with her. "Recently it seems he does not remember that I helped his father for twenty years prior to his newfound sense of responsibility." She was a little annoyed, she might admit, but she was practiced in turning such emotions into something that can be easily laughed off.
Besides, it was good to see her son was interested to take over the post when the time came; she was just exasperated that he seemed to find it necessary to overstep his bounds on occasion. His mother was not all tea parties and flirtations--she had, after all, been raised in the ruthless Underground, and not just that, she was raised to rule. She knew how to behave and she knew how to organize her children's outfits; she didn't need someone else assuming she would do it wrong, let alone her own son.
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--- --- GETHEN
Gethen strode into the ball with an heir of supremacy. She was startled by the amount of people and though it was dark outside in here everything was lit with fancy fairy lights and all sorts of strange things. Gethen didnt appreciate the absence of smoke and fire, the air was clear, it didnt feel homely at all if anything it made her more hostile towards the entire idea of the gathering. So much beauty and Gethen could barely fathom it with a animal-like feeling brewing within.
Turning her eyes towards Hanza she saw him gaping at the jumble of daintily dressed women from the plain to the overly flamboyant, princesses squeezed into tight corsets, princes sweating and tugging at their collars. Anxious, unsure and getting prepped to meet their dates, like a prom except harmless dates had been traded for weighty arranged partners for betrothal. Councillors and advisors to the left, Kings and queens to the right, flustered offspring in the centre ie the shark pool. Gethen de-linked her arm from Hanza's and gave him a boisterous tug of the hair which was by all means meant affectionately. She was about one of the biggest sharks in this pool and wasnt afraid to show it.
"Come Hanza i think we both deserve a drink" she mused her gray eyes drifting over the brightly coloured dresses and made up faces feeling a fierce need to move away from them before she marched right back outside and hid in the carriage for the rest of the night.
Hanza nodded feeling Gethen de-link from his arm her expression a difficult one to decifer if he didnt know her well. She was on the prowl. Defence on high. This was strange and unwanted and he could fully sympathise with her, the fact the men surrounding them had turned to stare at Gethen like she'd landed them a thwack on the snout was the only thing that stopped him clinging to her like a girl and hiding in the dress he'd picked for her like a child.
This place was a wonderland of horrors, part of him admired the weirdity and strange beauty, the other part rejected it with a strong repulsion.
Squaring her shoulders Gethen began forth her feminine strut powerful and demanding without her even knowing half of it. Hanza held himself tall for his princess and strided along behind her like a lithe body guard prept to kill for his lady- not a well toned dancing instructor who was more of a girl than half the female company surrounding.
--- --- AEDRE - http://mouse-in-a-teapot.deviantart.com ... 3#/d35uxa3 (In black)
Aedre had exited the carriage to watch her children file off in their many directions, Vincent moved like an irritable bear early out of hibernation stalking for the ball without a backwards glance, Stella streamed off towards the servant carriages no doubt after that bothersome blind maid who she thought she'd snuck on without anyone being aware. Really, before joining Vincent in the march for the gathering her attitude light and giddy it seemed. Gethen barged her way towards the servant carriage also after that male servant she'd always had doubts about before starting for the ball with Hanza in tow like some lethal preying mantis. Zenith didnt seem quick to go anywhere- they boy moved like a shadow when he wanted to.
Aedre stepped out of the carriage next pausing by the steps to wait for Garion before continuing forth at her great height when paired with the heels she wore. It was easy to see Aedre was poison on legs. Half her hair balled up like usual, it's fiery red shimmered in the light as tight curls fell down her back. She took in the ball and felt the memories flood to last time she was here. Turning to Garion she smiled and let her eyes wander for his hand before instead looping an arm around his smiling at how muscular he was then and now. Things had certainly changed since then but the nerves were something this place held forth forever, awaiting your return.
Gethen strode into the ball with an heir of supremacy. She was startled by the amount of people and though it was dark outside in here everything was lit with fancy fairy lights and all sorts of strange things. Gethen didnt appreciate the absence of smoke and fire, the air was clear, it didnt feel homely at all if anything it made her more hostile towards the entire idea of the gathering. So much beauty and Gethen could barely fathom it with a animal-like feeling brewing within.
Turning her eyes towards Hanza she saw him gaping at the jumble of daintily dressed women from the plain to the overly flamboyant, princesses squeezed into tight corsets, princes sweating and tugging at their collars. Anxious, unsure and getting prepped to meet their dates, like a prom except harmless dates had been traded for weighty arranged partners for betrothal. Councillors and advisors to the left, Kings and queens to the right, flustered offspring in the centre ie the shark pool. Gethen de-linked her arm from Hanza's and gave him a boisterous tug of the hair which was by all means meant affectionately. She was about one of the biggest sharks in this pool and wasnt afraid to show it.
"Come Hanza i think we both deserve a drink" she mused her gray eyes drifting over the brightly coloured dresses and made up faces feeling a fierce need to move away from them before she marched right back outside and hid in the carriage for the rest of the night.
Hanza nodded feeling Gethen de-link from his arm her expression a difficult one to decifer if he didnt know her well. She was on the prowl. Defence on high. This was strange and unwanted and he could fully sympathise with her, the fact the men surrounding them had turned to stare at Gethen like she'd landed them a thwack on the snout was the only thing that stopped him clinging to her like a girl and hiding in the dress he'd picked for her like a child.
This place was a wonderland of horrors, part of him admired the weirdity and strange beauty, the other part rejected it with a strong repulsion.
Squaring her shoulders Gethen began forth her feminine strut powerful and demanding without her even knowing half of it. Hanza held himself tall for his princess and strided along behind her like a lithe body guard prept to kill for his lady- not a well toned dancing instructor who was more of a girl than half the female company surrounding.
--- --- AEDRE - http://mouse-in-a-teapot.deviantart.com ... 3#/d35uxa3 (In black)
Aedre had exited the carriage to watch her children file off in their many directions, Vincent moved like an irritable bear early out of hibernation stalking for the ball without a backwards glance, Stella streamed off towards the servant carriages no doubt after that bothersome blind maid who she thought she'd snuck on without anyone being aware. Really, before joining Vincent in the march for the gathering her attitude light and giddy it seemed. Gethen barged her way towards the servant carriage also after that male servant she'd always had doubts about before starting for the ball with Hanza in tow like some lethal preying mantis. Zenith didnt seem quick to go anywhere- they boy moved like a shadow when he wanted to.
Aedre stepped out of the carriage next pausing by the steps to wait for Garion before continuing forth at her great height when paired with the heels she wore. It was easy to see Aedre was poison on legs. Half her hair balled up like usual, it's fiery red shimmered in the light as tight curls fell down her back. She took in the ball and felt the memories flood to last time she was here. Turning to Garion she smiled and let her eyes wander for his hand before instead looping an arm around his smiling at how muscular he was then and now. Things had certainly changed since then but the nerves were something this place held forth forever, awaiting your return.
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Stella pulled Layla around in circles, a most inappropriate behavior for royalty no doubt but goodness if they weren’t having a blast! She laughed, taking the lead this time and pulling her friend the opposite way in a turn, which turned out to be a bad idea. Oh, who would have thought a blind girl leading would be a bad idea? No sooner had she twisted them about did they smack into the princes of the water nation and fall flat on their behinds giggling messes. “Oh, pardon us!” It was then she realized exactly what she was doing and that she had caused her princess to fall in the middle of a ball. Scrambling to her feet, she pulled Stella up, began smoothing her dress out, all the while spewing apologies to the strangers she’d ran them into. If only she’d known just exactly who she’d ran them into, she’d probably have died right on the spot!
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Stella didn’t even bother looking at the other dancers, not sure if she wanted to see their expressions at the two girls spinning and laughing. Now this was the type of memories she wanted. Ones with laughter and carefree feelings; the rare ones that will get her through the unknown. Being happy with the success of getting her friend to have some fun, she was absolutely thrilled when Layla took the lead. She had been working on the blind girl for years to not follow her ever step, it took forever to get on a first name basis even as friends! Gladly following for a change, the moment was turned upside down with a twist and a thump.
Landing on the ground next to Layla, Stella had to fight to catch her breath from laughing. This was absolutely brilliant! She couldn’t remember the last time she had so much fun, then yet at such a formal event. She didn’t want to start trouble at the ball, but she didn’t want to just go along with it either; this was working perfect as an in-between! Face flushed, Stella looked up to see exactly what…well who from the looks of it…they run into. Ok, the brilliant plan just went to embarrassment as she saw the two young men. Now why couldn’t it be some stuck up councilors they could have knocked into?
As Layla pulled her up and was smoothing out her dress while babbling out apologies to the Water Princes, Stella grabbed the girl’s hands and pulled her back to stand next to her. “I am so sorry about that, apparently we were having a bit too much fun.” she apologized, unknowingly that the two were even Water Nation, then yet the princes; but noticing the own wreck Layla was in, she could only give another laugh despite the embarrassment. Straitening Layla’s tiara that had gone askew, Stella could only shake her head with a guilty look at the two. “Ok, maybe we were having more fun than just a ‘bit’.”
Landing on the ground next to Layla, Stella had to fight to catch her breath from laughing. This was absolutely brilliant! She couldn’t remember the last time she had so much fun, then yet at such a formal event. She didn’t want to start trouble at the ball, but she didn’t want to just go along with it either; this was working perfect as an in-between! Face flushed, Stella looked up to see exactly what…well who from the looks of it…they run into. Ok, the brilliant plan just went to embarrassment as she saw the two young men. Now why couldn’t it be some stuck up councilors they could have knocked into?
As Layla pulled her up and was smoothing out her dress while babbling out apologies to the Water Princes, Stella grabbed the girl’s hands and pulled her back to stand next to her. “I am so sorry about that, apparently we were having a bit too much fun.” she apologized, unknowingly that the two were even Water Nation, then yet the princes; but noticing the own wreck Layla was in, she could only give another laugh despite the embarrassment. Straitening Layla’s tiara that had gone askew, Stella could only shake her head with a guilty look at the two. “Ok, maybe we were having more fun than just a ‘bit’.”
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TERRA- WIND NATION
Terra smiled briefly at Sebastian and Cecilia as they stood by them and though it was said discretly heard parts of out how Ciara had discovered the drinks on offer whilst Terra herself took a glass off of the waiter who held his own plater of shots towards her. It was pressed against her bottom lip ready to be drunken when it was brought to light her younger daughter was doing the same thing, but in slightly more extravagent doses.
Terra turned her deep blue eyes to Johann.
They couldnt be harsh on her, not tonight of all nights, they were probably feeling similar, mother and daughter anxious at the idea of one leaving the other- permanently. Her son seemed to be thinking along the same lines of not wanting to spoil Ciara's night of departure when he was asked to watch her though she could see quite clearly that Kalmut was doing his best to worm his way out of minding her more for his own benefits.
Cian was sent eventually to resolve the problem, they couldnt spoil her night, but they couldn't restrain from keeping an eye on one of their children.
Terra would have ventured there herself if it came to that. She placed a comforting hand in general on Johann's shoulder before her mind was left to wonder once again idly over the ballroom. Memories betrayed it's beauty never really capturing the special vibe this place had, she remembered being infatuated by the dancing lights and arrangements of dresses and dances.
She caught to collision of two young princesses into two charming looking princes. Terra knew of instant the blond prince was of the water nation and the red haired princess of the dark, the other two did not bare the traits of any of the parents she remembered...adoption...like with her sons.
Terra was pulled from her thoughts by a servant who presented himself with an heir of arrogant cofidence. Her hand remained on Johann's shoulder when the servant tried for grace when urging the king to take some fruit. It was typical, half the male population acknowledged her and the other half acknowledged him and they acknowledged them both together with great distaste.
Terra smiled briefly at Sebastian and Cecilia as they stood by them and though it was said discretly heard parts of out how Ciara had discovered the drinks on offer whilst Terra herself took a glass off of the waiter who held his own plater of shots towards her. It was pressed against her bottom lip ready to be drunken when it was brought to light her younger daughter was doing the same thing, but in slightly more extravagent doses.
Terra turned her deep blue eyes to Johann.
They couldnt be harsh on her, not tonight of all nights, they were probably feeling similar, mother and daughter anxious at the idea of one leaving the other- permanently. Her son seemed to be thinking along the same lines of not wanting to spoil Ciara's night of departure when he was asked to watch her though she could see quite clearly that Kalmut was doing his best to worm his way out of minding her more for his own benefits.
Cian was sent eventually to resolve the problem, they couldnt spoil her night, but they couldn't restrain from keeping an eye on one of their children.
Terra would have ventured there herself if it came to that. She placed a comforting hand in general on Johann's shoulder before her mind was left to wonder once again idly over the ballroom. Memories betrayed it's beauty never really capturing the special vibe this place had, she remembered being infatuated by the dancing lights and arrangements of dresses and dances.
She caught to collision of two young princesses into two charming looking princes. Terra knew of instant the blond prince was of the water nation and the red haired princess of the dark, the other two did not bare the traits of any of the parents she remembered...adoption...like with her sons.
Terra was pulled from her thoughts by a servant who presented himself with an heir of arrogant cofidence. Her hand remained on Johann's shoulder when the servant tried for grace when urging the king to take some fruit. It was typical, half the male population acknowledged her and the other half acknowledged him and they acknowledged them both together with great distaste.
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(Light nation - Athanasius)
Athanasius seperated from Hayden and went his own way through the crowd. It was difficult to hide that he was already bored. He could have stayed at home and gone to high class parties with beautiful women in beautiful gowns and dresses...and all without the inconvenience of having one cherry picked for him to marry at the end of it all. But if he was at home, he wouldn't even be at one of those parties. He wasn't much of a social person except among people whom he found interesting. And here that wasn't anyone he knew well enough to find interesting, nor anyone who wasn't too distracted by some sort of political agenda for him to get to know well enough to find interesting.
He did, however, help himself to a colourful looking drink, not taking the time to find out which nations produce it was a fine example of. An atmosphere of levity started to infiltrate the crowd as the music became more upbeat. There was a sound of surprised laughter nearby, and he turned to see two women colliding with two men. Who they all were was an unknown, but the conduct of the ladies meant that they were almost certainly royalty. Nobody else would be so bold on an occassion like this.
The red haired girl was particularly striking...he thought to himself. But, of course, he knew there was little point in letting his own perception guide his choice of company tonight. All had been decided in a thoroughly premeditated act of politics and diplomacy.
Even so, he gave her a second glance before moving on.
Athanasius seperated from Hayden and went his own way through the crowd. It was difficult to hide that he was already bored. He could have stayed at home and gone to high class parties with beautiful women in beautiful gowns and dresses...and all without the inconvenience of having one cherry picked for him to marry at the end of it all. But if he was at home, he wouldn't even be at one of those parties. He wasn't much of a social person except among people whom he found interesting. And here that wasn't anyone he knew well enough to find interesting, nor anyone who wasn't too distracted by some sort of political agenda for him to get to know well enough to find interesting.
He did, however, help himself to a colourful looking drink, not taking the time to find out which nations produce it was a fine example of. An atmosphere of levity started to infiltrate the crowd as the music became more upbeat. There was a sound of surprised laughter nearby, and he turned to see two women colliding with two men. Who they all were was an unknown, but the conduct of the ladies meant that they were almost certainly royalty. Nobody else would be so bold on an occassion like this.
The red haired girl was particularly striking...he thought to himself. But, of course, he knew there was little point in letting his own perception guide his choice of company tonight. All had been decided in a thoroughly premeditated act of politics and diplomacy.
Even so, he gave her a second glance before moving on.
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