Chapter Two –
The Three Adventurers
In the supremely beautiful southern country of Lærelin, the young crown prince – Robeneron, playfully nicknamed 'Robbie' for short by none other than his aunt, Elowyn of the White Realm, whom he was three months older than – stood on the ramparts of his family's estate castle, in the heart of the country's capitol. Wordless, he surveyed the ground beneath him as guards making their rounds of the perimeter and courtiers passed him by, acknowledging their prince respectfully but otherwise not disturbing him. Then, squinting his ice-blue eyes, he took his gaze from the rooftops below and looked up to the sky.
The bright mid-afternoon sun beat down upon the castle of Aírenien, touching on his often deplored, wavy, long black hair, and he put up one hand at length to muss it, a look of slight annoyance crossing his young features. 'Handsome' was the simplest word to be utilized by the prince's many female admirers in the way of describing him, and it was certainly and without a doubt true that he was indeed quite fair of face. After all, Robbie was the son of the legendarily beautiful faery princess Elladine, now the queen of Lærelin, and the unnaturally handsome enchanter-prince Arin, now the king. Faery blood was – it was said throughout the kingdom, by all of the royal family's adoring subjects – the surest way to be attractive to the extreme.
And Robbie certainly looked handsome enough now as he stood at the edge of the castle walls, looking out for any sign of his expected guests – although he scarcely felt anything but hot and irritated. Why was she always late? If he could give a gold farthing for every time that she had been tardy, he could buy…
"Larien scienorith, Prince Robeneron!" an alto-toned, silky, and infuriatingly cheerful voice called out to him from a little ways down the wall.
Robbie whirled around, slightly startled, and then narrowed his eyes at the dark-garbed figure that now approached him.
"Don't you go starting to tell me about what a good day it is, Salamaïre – especially when you've just excelled yourself at your own record of being late!" he retorted as his athletic but aloofly beautiful, olive-skinned and dark-haired cousin-two-times-removed smiled gaily at him.
Sala, her name also shortened at the whim of youthfulness, shot him a convincingly acidic look then, one dark eyebrow quirking, and tossed her head. A slight dimple appeared at the corner of one side of her mouth.
"Well now, who woke up on the wrong side of his royal bed today? Is there a stick poking you in the back, Prince Robbie? You seem a little tense."
Robbie rolled his eyes and quickly sidestepped her before she could get her fingers near his ribcage and squeeze – it had long-since been established that it was his weak spot, as he had been ticklish as a child. Sala still liked to tease him about it. Mercilessly.
"I woke up perfectly on the right side of the bed today, Sala," He said her name pointedly, almost accusingly, which fit in with his next words: "And there isn't any bloody stick poking me in the back – you know, I think that you just can't grasp the concept of time. I mean, being late once or twice is fine, and there is such a thing as 'fashionably late', but somehow you've managed to turn even that into something that is simply…"
"Poor Robbie. Isn't it enough that the Fates should leave him to have all of his adventures with his dear auntie and cousin, when there might be other company to be had? There now, don't scowl, Robbie – you'll give yourself a migraine." came another voice from slightly down below them.
In the next instant, Elowyn appeared: perched casually atop Orpheus' back as the Pegasus kept the two of them aloft with powerful, steady beats of his shining wings.
Both of the two young faeries on the wall were all smiles then, even Robbie, who somehow regained his better sense of humor. Elowyn gave a tug on the reins and Orpheus winged a bit further into the air, and then swooped about gracefully, turning around so that he alit onto the wall.
Elowyn ran a hand through her blonde curls, which had been blown helter-skelter by the wind during her ride to her nephew's family castle, and commented lightly, "You two should have seen the commutes here today – I've not witnessed a larger congregation of basilisk- and wyvern-riders since the last time we had that international Sentient symposium at Avalennon."
"I saw them." Sala replied, a wry smile quirking her peach-toned lips. "A perfect bloody mess – me and Typho could scarcely get through." And she jerked her head slightly towards the sprawling green fields that surrounded the castle, where her very own wyvern – Typho – was surely sporting out in the sea of grasses, awaiting his mistress's return.
Robbie shrugged and raised his hands in the air, dismissing any of his responsibility in the matter. "Another one of the trimester national audiences with the reigning monarchs," he told them. "It's been required since around perhaps four hundred years ago, and all because it just so happens that the different magic-and-enchantment-powered Sentients are making their presence a lot more apparent in the mortal world…"
"And the mortal subjects start to get nervous," remarked Elowyn, but without malice. Mortals both interested and bored her. It depended on the mortal, however. She shrugged in turn. "Well, since we're all here now…what do you say we take off? I need a good, long ride to clear my mind, and I only have until tonight to be out."
Both Robbie and Sala reacted with disappointment and dismay, almost simultaneously. Robbie was the first to voice his displeasure at this news.
"Elowyn, why? Only until tonight – isn't that a bit short?"
She turned to him with a wry smile quirking her perfectly shaped mouth.
"Tell my dancing instructor that. He insists that I've got to put more effort into my aralaides and the winged serpentine Tuilaeyars, and that my being out running through the woods will only put further damage into my 'delicate arch'! That, and he's vowed that if I miss another lesson, he'll have a word or two with my father about it, and you know how annoying that would be…"
Robbie and Sala made expressions and sounds congruent with their disgust at this, and Sala commented, "Well then, I suppose that we'll just have to make do with the time we've got—"
"Which will be, like, the rest of this afternoon." Robbie put in, dryly.
"And we'll see that you make it back to dancing lessons before they miss you." Sala finished evenly, while flexing her fingers threateningly. Robbie made a tiny bit of a face at her.
"I could always just run out on them again." Elowyn said, thoughtfully.
"But didn't you just give Enabelle and her cohorts the slip again this very day?" Robbie guessed. He knew Elowyn and her habits just a bit too well, and from her barely suppressed, sly little smile, he saw that this was true. "You probably couldn't play that trick on them more than once."
"In all likeliness?" she replied. "No. But I can always try, and evading the trammels of society, such as it is, is rapidly becoming an art for me…"
"Just don't forget that adventuring is what our art really is, Princess Elowyn." Sala reminded her with a grin as the three began to move towards a battlement nearby, the door of which led off of the ramparts and into the castle beyond.
Elowyn smiled back at her, knowing that this was true: truer than a good many things, and that she could not doubt it.
It had always been this way – from the very beginning, Elowyn had been an adventurous, impetuous, headstrong, and absolutely irrepressible free spirit, and her two best friends in the entire world had always been Robbie and Sala.
Black-haired, blue-eyed, fair-skinned, tall and handsome Robbie was, for his part, as audacious, bold, and impulsive as Elowyn, but he also had a more cautious side to him as well. This had saved them from quite a few nasty episodes – however, it also came as somewhat of an annoyance to Elowyn and Sala, who were more inclined to spontaneity and other such qualities.
Sala was Robbie's exact opposite, except for the wry sense of humor that they all shared. She was senior to both of them, and came from a faery kingdom of the mortal lands; hence, her exotic appearance, complete with short-cropped but attractive black hair, shrewd, penetrating eyes of deep burnt sienna, a richly olive complexion, and willowy, athletic build to match. In comparison to Elowyn, she was even more outspoken and fiery, railing against the standards of society. All three of them were becoming known as the mavericks of the court, and there had been many to deplore their antics.
But so it had always been.
And, thought Elowyn, smiling to herself, as Sala called Typho over to her with a strong, high-pitched, warbling whistle, and Robbie went into the stables to fetch his own mount – Ideiron, one of the royal horses bred specifically for the use of the reigning monarchs – It always will be.
It always will be.
* * *
Author's Note: Cast list! At least, for the characters that have been presented and or mentioned thus far…
Elowyn: Julia Stiles
Robbie: Tom Cavill
Sala: Selma Blair
Orandor: Hugo Weaving, as Elrond from the Lord of the Rings movies
Vahlada: Jane Seymour
Ella: Natalie Portman
Arin: Orlando Bloom
Gavin: Jensen Ackles
And now, I beg and implore and otherwise beseech you to review…