Written by the Sapphire Prince
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
n All who wish to use my ideas and/or characters must have my permission. My email address is DeeSimz926@cs.com.
n All of the characters and pokemon names are completely original. Any relations to actual people or events are used fictitiously.
n Be a considerate reader and review the fan-fiction no matter how horrible or great it may be.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Author's Note:
Hello! It is I, the Sapphire Prince, formerly known as Sparkling Sapphires. For some odd reason I cannot seem to just let go of the sapphires. Anyways, this is a new fan-fiction that I've decided to start. It is about our dear, most cherished heroine, Rosie Fierra, and her love life. Things will not be as they were in the previous series, oh no, they definitely will not. However, there will be many of the same characters, just different backgrounds. The pokemon will definitely stay the same; they're constant. The time period is also quite different. I've had a binge on 19th century novels lately. I love them: therefore, this is what the time period is going to be. The language is a little bit more formal and I will try not to use as many big words. It's also in third person point-of-view and it is in past tense. I do not how many chapters this will be. I'm open for new characters to introduce. Describe them in the reviews! Please enjoy this fan-fiction…
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The Premiere
Rosamunde Fierra leaned against the windowpane of a large, open casement. A salty breeze blew, filling her nose with that familiar, and most heartily welcomed scent of the ocean. She sighed as she thought of her achievements in life and of the struggles. Six years ago was when she had first become a trainer, her loss at the Flower League happen after that. However, her most significant goal was her winning of the – Cup, thus making her the winner of the – League. She was thought of as a formidable opponent and a lady of rank. In fact, she was invited to a royal tonight, or rather that night.
The Queen of the Flower Archipelago, Flora as they called it then, sent out invitations to all of the winners of any league so that they could attend the ball. Many battles would be fought and, perhaps, maybe some mutual attachments would be formed, for many young people in one place are likely to develop love interests. The Queen, Queen Grace, a woman of merely twenty-eight years of age, was known for giving many dances and balls. She was all for making the citizens of her kingdom happy. This was a golden age for Flora: she had islands scattered all over the Flora Ocean and one island off of the coast of Kanto, the people were in good health, crime was low, everyone loved the Queen, and Flora was one of the most powerful members of the League of Nations, and poverty was virtually unheard of. Times were wonderful.
Rosie became noticeable of a light tugging at her knee. It was her pokemon, an Aipom with cobalt fur and eyes like a black diamond. She scooped her friend up into arms.
"Hello Eleanor, are you feeling well?"
Yes. I am feeling quite sensational. Do tell me that you are going to that ball tonight because I am rather eager to go.
Rosie thought with a pensive countenance and a long finger twirling a tendril of fuchsia hair. "I suppose that I will," she said. "Why are you so eager to go Eleanor?"
There will be a great deal of other pokemon there. Perhaps I could find a handsome male counterpart of myself. Eleanor giggled as she said so, for she was in her prime and in search of a mate. Yes, she still battled, as did all of her pokemon, but there is more to life than just that. She wanted a family.
"That would be capital, I suppose," she said with an air of uncertainty. If Eleanor were to leave her, she would not know what she would do with herself. Although Rosamunde loved all of her pokemon dearly, she could not help but esteem her first pokemon more. Ellie was her life as well as Dew, her Marril, who had now evolved into an Azumarill, who still referred to her as his mother.
Being as close to her friend as she was, Eleanor quickly noticed the change in Rosie's demeanor. Rosie often wore her emotions on her sleeve: she was not any good in trying to shield them. If Rosie wanted to cry, it shows; if she wants to deck someone, well—that's another thing—women were not taught to fight (however, she has done it before). In conclusion, anyone can tell how she is feeling at any moment.
Rosie, if I found a mate, I would not leave you.
This cheered our heroine up quite drastically. Her heart swelled up in relief.
"Now that is capital, my friend: truly capital." Rosamunde smiled once more. Every moment that a person shares with someone that they love is crucial, for one never knows when that person may be taken away from them, either voluntarily or involuntarily. "I had better begun my toilette dear Eleanor. Do help me choose which dress to wear. I am certain that the Queen will be wearing a fabulous evening gown tonight. If only I could look half as fine."
Everyone knows that you are a belle. Do not worry over such trifles.
Rosamunde walked over to her armoire and opened the two oak doors. The musk of a white lily invaded her nostrils: she had promptly placed a white lily under each layer of frocks, so that they would smell pleasant. Rosie had many frocks indeed, yet they were few in comparison to others. Rosamunde, being clever, put much of her savings in the bank in a fixed account that allows her to withdraw the money within a month from now. Money had been in the account for over 6 years with an interest rate of about 6%; it occasionally went up to rates as high as 10%. I would say that she had over 100,000 petals (the former currency of Flora), which was equal to fifty cents in American currency. This was a great sum of money for anyone to have and it would place her in high society.
The young woman decided that a dusky rose would best complement her features. She then stripped out of her afternoon frock and put on a fresh chemise, the putting on of a firmly fitting corset ensued, but this was not completely necessary, for Rosie had a striking figure already, which can only be made more striking with the aid of the corset. Eleanor gladly tightened the strings, for this was done regularly because Rosie was always being invited to some sort of dance.
The process of doing her hair up and adding the right amount of flowers to the hair took about half of an hour. Everything was complete when she sprayed some lavender musk to the appropriate sections of her body.
With Ellie on her shoulder, Rosamunde descended the stairs that led to the parlor where her parents were sitting down, enjoying a card game. They were going to go visit Miss Hanna's parents while she and Rosie were at the ball. Both looked up to see their sensational-looking daughter.
"How precious she is my love. Look at our handsome daughter," Mrs. Fierra cried. Mrs. Fierra was a great mother; she and her daughter were rather close. She was the perfect mix of sensibility: she could be the stern disciplinarian when called for but she could also be the empathetic, loving being when she needed to be.
"Oh yes my love, but I do think that that neckline is quite disagreeable. Look how far it plunges." Mr. Fierra was the model dad: loving and overprotective.
"My God dear! It is only a square-neck."
"Only a square-neck? You are dreadfully mistaken, for it shows off way too much."
"A woman cannot hide her charms. Besides, it attracts the young men."
"Her brain should be attracting the young men, for she is such a clever lass indeed."
Rosamunde just stood and observed. It was the classic mother vs. father match over how revealing an article of clothing was. Eleanor smiled.
Mother, I am come! I have just retired from taking a dip in the pond. This came from Dew, her pride and joy. He was wet and coming straight for her but he quickly remembered that this was definitely frowned upon, so he halted in his tracks.
"How was it?"
Wonderful!
"That is great."
"When should send for the chaise and four my ladies? It is dusk as of now." Sure enough, the gigantic sun was just beginning to dip under the horizon, painting the sky with streaks of goldenrod, mauve, and indigo. It was truly beautiful.
"Do it now."
Mr. Fierra promptly crossed the room and walked out of the door, in order to ring the bell for the coachman to arrive. A Marril heard the bell and it chirped out the appropriate noises. It did this in order to tell the coachman where to go. Minutes later, two black stallions pranced up to the gate of Rosewood, the name of the estate, and Mr. Fierra and his two ladies soon hopped into the coach. Rosie made sure that her handbag had the four pokeballs that she had placed in there earlier were there. They were. The pokeballs contained: Lady Vanilla and Lady Starlight, along with Sir Dawn (this was Sunrise's new name), and Sir Crimson.
The ride to Melbourne Palace was short; it only took about a half of an hour. Rosamunde could have easily promenaded over to the palace; however, her expensive gown would have been torn and her feet would have ached. Each time that Rosie visited the palace; she could not help but to admire its splendors. There was a large fountain if front of it with a statue of Aurora riding her creamy stallions through the sky, waving her rosy fingers to-and-fro. There were many tall columns of smoky colored marble with carvings of the Greek Gods and famous scenes in Flora's history. The large national flag could also be seen, the colors were blue, white, and green; the coat-of-arms was a Lugia with a coronet of flowers and fruits encircling its head. It was very pretty in the citizens' eyes.
The coachman helped Rosie out, after she bade her parents "good-bye". They were free, without the hassles of worrying about the triplets, who were five by now. They were at their Aunt Peony's house for a few weeks, for this was a time of extended visits to one's acquaintances. The two boys, Evan and Julian, were like most boys: highly rambunctious and energetic while Rosalynne, she was sweet and timid, and a major fan of flowers, she also loved to play tunes on her small harp. Each child was healthy and happy; they would be attending school by the next autumn, it was the beginning a spring as of now, where new beginnings and changes often took place.
With Eleanor faithfully perched on her soft shoulder, Rosamunde breezed up the grand staircase, which led to the large port, where a doorman stood sentinel.
"What is your name Miss?" This is what he asked, with a thick accent, like that of a Frenchman, and a perturbed air. Rosie assumed that he must have been one of the lesser members of the royal family, for they often had such a brogue, or he could have just been an impersonator: there were many of them.
"My name is Rosamunde Fierra, sir," she said nicely. Tonight was a night that she had to keep her temper and to be agreeable towards everyone, in spite of his or her haughtiness.
"Which league were you the winner of?"
"The --- League, sir."
"Very well," he said as he took her arm. This was a common courtesy that men performed when a single woman entered a room. Rosie was led to an extremely long table with men on one side and with women on the other. Each person was having a good time; one could tell by the expressions on their faces. The women were dressed in fine silks or crepe material while the men were dressed in the formal white, collarless or collared shirt and vest, a bowtie, trousers, and leather shoes. Hair was slicked back and a boutonnières were common near the necklines of the shirts: this was in high fashion at the time. Pokemon were also in their trainers' laps, enjoying conversation with one another. Rosie was seated next to her friends, Hannah and Rochelle (Rika), who were more than overjoyed at the sight of her.
"It has been a very long Rosie, a very long time," said Rochelle, who looked marvelous in her violet frock.
"Too long if you ask me, Rika. What have you been doing lately? I had the pleasure of studying your photographs in the newspaper just the other day," said Rosie. Rochelle was an excellent photographer, one of the few female photographers at the time. Her work could be seen in the Review every week and she had made quite a fortune doing so. However, there was more to just taking pictures of pokemon than the money, it allowed her to capture the animal's true beauty and thoughts, it was interpersonal, in a way. Rika lived in a humble abode, by the seashore with her family, on Autumn Island, where she and Rosie first met. All was well.
"I've been taking classes at Autumn University in order to learn the art of painting portraits of pokemon. Lassie is my prime subject right now, she's so picturesque and photogenic."
"And you Hannah?"
Hannah blushed, "I've been proposed to by the man of my dreams. My Joshua proposed to me. I accepted him!" She was genuinely happy.
This was no surprise to Rochelle and her friend because the pair of lovebirds had endured a long courtship, and if they were a day apart, lovesickness would get the best of them.
"Congratulations," the young women cried as they hugged their friend tenderly.
Rosamunde and Rochelle could not help but to envy their friend's good fortune. She was the only young woman in their circle of friends who had ever been proposed to. The attachment was already secured and one was unequivocal at the fact that she was going to marry for the sake of love and not for money, as many did in that time. A healthy glow was prominent on her cheeks, and her eyes sparkled. An engaged woman usually looks much more radiant than before because she is sure of herself and proud of herself. Knowing that someone loves you is a great feeling.
The girlfriends sipped on the sparkly champagne, admiring the great chinaware and overall setting of the hall. The floor was made of freshly polished marble and crystal chandeliers were frequent also. Bouquets were also prevalent; they flowers were and white; the green of the stems completed the nationalistic aura. An orchestra sat in the pit that was before the grand stage, playing lovely tunes.
In a matter of moments, the trumpets began to blare, accomplishing the task of getting everyone's attention. "Salute to the mother of the grand country of Flora, the lovely Queen Grace and her brother, Prince Burke!" The royal preceder spoke this long sentence. With that, the national anthem, "All Hail the Kingdom of Flora", was played by the orchestra, which was led by a talented man on the pianoforte. The Queen and her brother walked unto the stage in long, graceful strides. Her majesty was stunning in her white silk and golden crown of emeralds, sapphires, and diamonds; part of her long, luxurious teal hair was gathered up near the front, while the rest fell down to the small of her back in shiny ringlets. Her devoted Poliwhirl's hand was intertwined with hers. Prince Burke was considered to be one of the handsomest men in all of the land: he was tall and well proportioned and strongly featured with the hereditary teal hair and eyes the color of the ocean. His Croconaw was present.
"Good evening my talented trainers," said the Queen quite happily. In case you were wondering, the monarchy system is quite different. The order of the monarch goes by age, not gender. This evidently means that her majesty is the eldest of the two: she was her brother's senior by one year. There was a large round of applause given at this point.
"The evening's festivities will include a dance, of course, pokemon trainer battles, and at the very end, one lucky young man and woman will have the pleasure of dancing with my brother and I. Until then, I would like to thank our talented pianist, Chadwick Jones (He stood up and bowed accordingly) for playing so splendidly. Dinner is now being served," she said as she and her brother departed to the ends of the great tables. Rosamunde was very near to the Prince.
A maitre made his way down long table, placing a silver dish of roasted chicken and vegetables in front of each guest. The scent was invigorating.
Rochelle and Hannah noticed that the Prince was staring intently at their companion. They giggled and whispered into her ear, looking at the Prince the whole time, "you seem to have an admirer."
She was surprised. "Who?"
"Look towards the head of the table."
Rosamunde did as she was told, and her eyes met with the Prince's. She blushed and smiled courteously.
"May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?" The Prince asked with a suavity of tone that could make any ordinary females bosom heave in ecstasy, however, Rosie was not ordinary, but her bosom heaved nonetheless, and Prince Burke saw this for her neckline showed off her cleavage, as most evening gowns were designed to.
"I am Rosamunde Fierra your Majesty," she said coolly. She was well composed: a commendable attribute for anyone.
"Rosamunde is a beautiful name indeed. Tell me Miss Fierra, where have your journeys taken you? Not very far, I assume," he paused. Rosie flushed in annoyance, however, he quickly countered with, "For you have not the hardened features of a woman who has." She smiled; the anger was lifted.
"You're took kind, my prince."
"Your prince," he said with a smirk, "I had not the slightest idea that I belonged to just one person."
"Oh no, your Majesty, you are shared by many, indeed."
"Is that supposed to be an insult or a fact?"
"Which ever way you want to take it, your Majesty. I, for one, intended it to be a fact."
"You have good sense Miss Fierra. Please introduce me to your companions; a trio of beauties are uncommon."
"With no intention on offending, I will say this: beauties are common in any amount, be it physical or mental, sir."
"This is true," he said with a wink, "you are extremely clever. Nobody usually corrects my generalizations except for my sister, the almighty Queen." The tone was sarcastic, which left Rosie to debate on whether he was jealous of his sister.
"You are the only person whom I have ever heard mock Queen Grace, your Majesty," said Rochelle.
"Your Aipom is adorable Miss Fierra. She looks strong," said the Prince.
"Lady Eleanor is a formidable opponent, to be sure, however, like anything, she is not perfect. However, she is perfect for me."
"Is that so?"
"Yes it is."
Rosamunde nibbled on her dinner, as did Eleanor, who was beaming at the fact that royalty had complimented her. Rosie was enjoying having this tête-à-tête with Prince Burke, yet, she was eager to have a dance. If only she could ask him out to dance. "Perhaps I will be fortunate enough to be chosen to dance with him later," she thought.
Another young man, with short brown hair and an Umbreon sat across the table from her. He was looking at her oddly, to which she herself noticed. She spoke up, "is there a problem sir?"
The man grinned as he said, "oh no there is no problem. You seem to look familiar; that is all. I could not help but overhearing your conversation. I have been enlightened at the fact that you are the Miss Fierra who I had the pleasure of attending school with at Pokemon University, am not I correct?"
"When you mentioned that, I realized that you must be Mr. Skyler."
"My name Fredric, but you may call me by my last name if you wish. All of my friends do."
"I will do so Skyler."
"Well then, would you like to have a dance?"
Rosamunde thought about this briefly. He was tall, dark, and handsome and seemed to have a good disposition back at the University. What could be the harm in a meaningless dance? Here, Reader is an error, for no dance is meaningless: it means something to at least one of the people involved. Rosie wound up feeling something when he took her hand: a new feeling. What was it? They danced as one being, each person observing great it felt to be touching one another, while someone brooded in the corner….
Is the Prince jealous? Does he have the right to be? Who is Chadwick Jones, will he ever make an appearance. In the next chapter, there will be the conclusion of the night, and the beginning of a wild rhombus or polygon of love. There will be more pokemon battles and such; however, the main focus is on romance. I hoped that you enjoyed it! Remember to review, and if you want to be a featured trainer, place it in the review along with your opinion. The Sapphire Prince is signing off…