IP: 82.19.140.112
Posted on September 17, 2013 at 10:30:53 PM by t r i s t a n
It had been a miserable week. It seemed as if the entire castle was shrouded in a impenetrable gloom, as everyone tried to come to terms with what had happened on the beach. The repercussions had rippled through the population, from those who had been at ground zero, to those who had lost family members to the destruction. The prince had been confined to his rooms since it had happened. His tutors came to him so he didn’t even have to move to the schoolrooms. Guards would bring him any paperwork that his father wanted him to sign (he had added his name to the bottom of a number of letters of sympathy sent out to grieving families) and the puppies had been given over temporarily into the care of the stable master. The only time he left his rooms was for private training sessions with his father in the early hours of the morning. For the first few days Tristan had weathered his punishment with good-grace, his father’s words echoing in his ears. They had spoken in the great hall for well over an hour, and there had been truth enough in everything the king had said for Tristan to feel more than a little ashamed of himself. More recently however he found himself confronted with a growing feeling of frustration. His intentions in going to the cove to find and rescue Thea had been well intentioned, and, even in the short amount of time he had been able to spend on the way back to the castle, he had seen how deeply she had been effected. He was worried about her. The guards brought him meals on trays, and spoke few words to him. It was clear that everyone knew that he was being punished. Not that that was what Arthur had called it. He had said that the purpose was to give Tristan the chance to reassess things, to think about his behaviour and his actions and to reform accordingly. He had tried to phase through the walls once and had walked straight into the arms of the guards waiting in the room on the other side. All his escape routes had been blocked. He wanted to make Arthur proud, he did, he just got carried away sometimes, got caught in the moment, and only thought about what could have happened when it was too late and everything was done. He did not like being at odds with his father...but he didn’t want Thea to feel like he had abandoned her either. Tristan gave a grunt of frustration and hurled his book of advanced latin grammar across the room. He was sick of grammar. It collided with the bookcase causing the whole thing to wobble dangerously. Celidon looked up at it with a worried expression from his place on the rug, but it settled back to stillness quickly enough. The prince jumped when a knocking came at the door, thinking that he had attracted attention with the noise he turned sheepishly to the guard who entered. “His Grace sent me to reply to your letter in person,” the man said, holding up the piece of parchment in his hands. Tristan had sent it to Arthur earlier that day, and scrambled to his feet in his eagerness to hear the response. “He says you may visit Lady Alethea for one hour,” Tristan grinned, “but,” the guard said, “he wanted me to make it clear to you that he has consented because he believes it will be good for her, not for you.” The prince looked to the floor with a sigh but nodded anyway. He’d take what he could get. Two guards walked him along the corridors to the rooms where the higher ranking female residents of the castle slept. Alethea’s room stood at the end of the corridor it was on, so the guards consented to stop half way along. He approached the door on his own, and knocked. At first, he didn’t hear any sound coming from inside, and then there were footsteps, and the door popped open. Tristan saw her face first, and offered her a smile, but as she opened the door wider he noticed her hair, and her and the weight loss. She didn’t quite look like he remembered. She looked older. He had always known that she was older than him, but it was suddenly more pronounced. Alethea looked more like an adult than a child, and it gave Tristan pause. Once he had processed this, the prince noticed too that she was in her dressing gown, and he ran his hand a little awkwardly through his hair. “I’m all right,” the boy told his friend with another smile. There was a change in his voice, it had begun to crack, changing erratically between its usual sound and something deeper. His problems, such as they were, had been self-inflicted, hers hadn’t been. How he was feeling didn’t compare, “and you?” He waited for her to invite him in before crossing the threshold, and his green eyes flicked quickly to the pile of golden hair on the floor in front of the vanity cabinet. It made him a little sad, he had loved her long hair. She was still very pretty though. He noticed that afresh as he turned back towards her, the new style suited her too...it was just different. “I like it,” Tristan told her, “it suits you.” She did look sad though, and he was filled with a sudden urge to try anything (many of them stupid) to make her laugh, or even smile. He loved it when she laughed, especially when he was the cause of it. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner,” the prince explained apologetically, “I wanted to, but my father...well,” he met Alethea’s eyes, “I was an idiot,” as if that explained everything. “And you? Are you okay?” He thought she would probably say yes, just as he knew that she wasn’t, “is there something I can do?” The prince waited, his green eyes soft and warm, hoping that she would feel safe enough to confide in him.  |
Replies:
- be noble, for you are made of stars - By Alethea September 18, 2013 at 04:38:59 AM
- may you sing the deeds of glory - By t r i s t a n September 18, 2013 at 11:19:49 PM
- be noble, for you are made of stars - By Alethea September 27, 2013 at 06:02:18 AM
- may you sing the deeds of glory - By t r i s t a n October 6, 2013 at 07:08:43 PM
- be noble, for you are made of stars - By Alethea September 27, 2013 at 06:02:18 AM
- may you sing the deeds of glory - By t r i s t a n September 18, 2013 at 11:19:49 PM
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