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Post by MELISANDE FABRE on Oct 31, 2012 12:02:13 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, width:300px; background-color:ddd; border-bottom:1px solid #aaa; padding:10 0;][style=font-family:georgia; font-size:18px; text-transform:lowercase; color:#333; text-shadow:1px 0px 0px #eee; font-style:italic; font-weight:bold; text-align:center;] |
[/div] [/style] [/td][/tr][tr][td][atrb=style,width:350px; background-color:#fff;][style=font-family:georgia; font-size:10px; margin:20 40; color:#555; text-align:justify;] The royal gardens had always been a place that had offered the Queen solace from the complexities and unhappiness of her life. In fact, she often retreated there after a particularly intense argument with her husband. The pungent aroma of the fresh blossoms helped to clear her mind, and though it could be considered maze-like, she was familiar enough with the layout now that she had little trouble navigating her way through the manicured hedges and strategically-planted cherry trees. The wind had a distinct chill to it that day, and Melisande pulled the thick shawl closer about her shoulders as she ventured deeper still into the center of a makeshift glade. There, she spotted a romantically-styled veranda; all wood with vines with blooming rosebuds that enveloped the entirety of it. Dainty benches were provided for anyone who fancied a break. It had been several years since she and Lukas had sat there together, holding hands and discussing their future. A future that had once promised to be joyous.
Suddenly, it began to rain.
Torn from her musings, the slender blonde picked up the fabric of her skirts and rushed into the safety of the terrace, and watched as the clouds overhead opened up to invite a light rainfall. The gardens themselves grew dark and gloomy, and Melisande found she had little choice but to wait out the oncoming storm. Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance, and the Queen was scolding herself for having neglected to tell her Guardian - a very stern, overprotective woman - where she was headed. No doubt she'd be in a panic by now. What was worse, she'd probably gone so far as to alert Lukas of her absence. That wouldn't bode well for her. He tended to become angry with her when she made off by herself without supervision of any kind. And thus, with her spirits thoroughly dampened, she resigned herself to her fate and wrapped her arms around her for warmth. Waiting for anyone who might come to retrieve her.
Her thoughts immediately shifted to her last discussion with Lukas. It had occurred late one evening in their chambers, just as she'd be readying herself for bed. He'd thought it prudent to address the issue of a potential marriage for Aria. Her first reaction had been shock, which had then escalated into anger and indignation for her daughter. She wasn't ready to be spirited away to the highest bidder, she'd argued. But he'd remained firm in his conviction. Had even reassured her it was in the best interest of the Kingdom. But had he even paused to consider Aria's feelings on the matter? She wasn't ready for a commitment such as marriage. Certainly not after bearing witness to their own broken union! How could she possibly look forward to giving herself to a man after seeing the misery her own mother and father's marriage caused them? But of course, there was no reasoning with someone who was as stubborn and narrow-minded as Lukas. And he'd left, informing her that they would speak of it once she'd managed to compose herself.
That had been several days ago. And they hadn't spoken since.
She was suddenly pulled from her troubled thoughts at a rustling in the bushes, and straightened her posture, fingers clenched tightly about the material of her gown.
"Caeius? Aria? You know I hate it when you sneak about like that. Please come out so I can see you."[/div][/td][/tr][/table] [/center] |
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Post by swift on Oct 31, 2012 15:09:43 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,border-bottom: 1px #bdbdbd solid;] [style= height: 34px; margin-bottom: 7px; width: 245px; float: right; border-bottom: 1px #bdbdbd solid;]  The gloomy and dark sky and atmosphere seemed to mirror the King’s current mood perfectly. Walking with a brisk yet smooth pace through the royal gardens, Lukas found very little solace or peace of mind from the usually serene piece of nature that had been cultivated so many years ago. It seemed like only yesterday that his loving wife and himself strolled through these colourful maze-like passages aimlessly, no destination or direction in mind, but just enjoying one another's company and simply speaking sweet nothings to each other. Such warm and happy days those were, yet now he walked alone through these damp gardens, his expression firm and cold compared to the beaming smiles he used to wear when he was last here.
His footsteps went unheard as the patter of raindrops silenced any other sound, the drumming against the umbrella in the King’s hand droning out any other noise. A slight haze filled the garden, obscuring his searching eyes as they scanned the area around him. He disliked the cold, even more so when it rained and usually he would’ve enjoyed the comfort of his chamber beside a blazing fire. But the mention of Melisande still not being located by her guardian quickly sent him rushing out of the palace and into the chilled rain he hated so. Seriously that woman could act like a child at times, ignoring simple instructions put into place for her own protection. Did she not know that there were rebels planning to overthrow him and would use any means necessary to accomplish that? She of all people should understand the precarious position the both of them were in, yet her selfishness and defiance blinded her judgment, and she disobeyed.
Any other person would have felt the cold steel of punishment by now, yet with her his lenience always seemed to prevail. The promise of old always crept back into his thoughts when anger threatened to overwhelm him, the simple promise he spoke to the naïve teenaged girl he forcefully pulled into his world playing through him mind.
”I’ll protect you, I’ll never let them harm a single hair on your head. This I promise you, Melisande.”
For a moment his eyes softened as his mind lost itself in its thoughts and those words he spoke many years ago. It wasn’t until he walked into a sudden overgrowth of green did his thoughts return to the world, a voice catching his attention beyond it. Recognizing the voice immediately as that of the Queen, his features sharpened once again as he wiggled through the overgrowth, the damp leaves and branches soaking his dark pants and coat as he broke free into her view. Brushing a few leaves that clung to his clothing off, he turned his gaze over to his wife.
For a moment he simply stood motionless in absolute silence, his expression intimidatingly passive as he stared at the woman before him, dark eyes scanning her form before meeting her eyes. She was truly beautiful. Like a blooming flower her delicate beauty enraptured the hearts of many, and even in this cold and gloomy setting, she was dazzling as the sun. The jewel of his life and the one he could call his own…at least he used to be able to, before he found out she had been tainted by another. His grip tightened on the umbrella’s handle, slender trails of smoke creeping between his fingers that held the handle firm.
”I should’ve known you would run away here. When your mind is troubled you always escaped to this place. So what brings you out here by yourself, my beloved?”
The last line carried a certain edge to it, as emphasise was placed on the alone portion of his words. Stepping towards his Queen, he came up directly in front of her, his umbrella overshadowing the both of them. His eyes never left hers; instead they grew more intense the closer he got, threatening to pierce right through her with their sharp gaze.
[/style] | tag: mel - note: let's start this drama. Made by AMB Tanz |
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Post by MELISANDE FABRE on Nov 1, 2012 0:27:37 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, width:300px; background-color:ddd; border-bottom:1px solid #aaa; padding:10 0;][style=font-family:georgia; font-size:18px; text-transform:lowercase; color:#333; text-shadow:1px 0px 0px #eee; font-style:italic; font-weight:bold; text-align:center;] |
[/div] [/style] [/td][/tr][tr][td][atrb=style,width:350px; background-color:#fff;][style=font-family:georgia; font-size:10px; margin:20 40; color:#555; text-align:justify;] "Lukas?"
She watched as her husband emerged from the surrounding foliage, umbrella in hand. With his long dark hair, striking features and luxurious clothes, he proved a stark contrast to the delicate undergrowth that surrounded them. Indeed, there was no denying the King was a handsome man. But their relationship went far beyond one's physical allure. No matter how beautiful he may have been on the surface, it was the darkness within him that had driven her away and - ultimately - into the arms of another.
Melisande kept her expression guarded as he made his approach, and then felt herself tense instinctively, as though she were bracing herself for some sort of verbal assault. It often happened that way. He would broach a discussion quite calmly, but by the end of it, he was shouting and cursing without any regard for whomever might overhear. When he became angry, he became irrational. And now that they were entirely alone, it was possible that he might not see any incentive to control himself. Absently she felt her fingers begin to ache from having clenched her skirts too tightly, and forced them to relax, unwilling to allow Lukas the luxury of seeing her plagued by such anxiety. So instead, she lifted her chin, and rolled her shoulders in a sort of halfhearted shrug.
"As you said, I retreat into the gardens when my mind is troubled. Also, I find the castle to be quite stifling at times. And so - in my pursuit of fresh air - I found myself here."
Her words were laced with a subdued spitefulness, perhaps in retaliation to his own disapproving tone. She could tell that he was in an unpleasant disposition, despite the effort he was going to, to remain calm and composed. Then again, they were both relatively good actors. It wasn't difficult for either of them to feign any range of emotion should the occasion have called for it. Besides, that's basically what their marriage as a whole had become; a charade. They ruled alongside one another with smiling faces for the sake of their people. Little did anyone know the extent of the misery and shame that haunted their entire family. Frequently she found herself wondering how long they could go on pretending before someone noticed that something was amiss. Already she'd heard whispers as to the legitimacy of her sons and daughters as the King's children. That sort of gossip spread like wildfire, and it wouldn't be long until the wrong person came into some very compromising information.
The memory of her various affairs set her heart racing, and Melisande cleared her throat, nervously smoothing invisible wrinkles from the silk of her gown. It had grown deathly silent then, the noiselessness nearly deafening save for the soft rainfall and distant thunder.
"I doubt you exerted yourself only to ask me such a simple question, however. Is something the matter, my husband?"
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