Alternate ending/ sequel for Fairytale? Heck yeah. 1/2

"Love is never ever simple."

"Someday you're gonna see the things that I see, you're gonna want the air that I breathe, you're gonna wish you never left me."

-Clouds.

CLOUDS

It was almost continuous. If they were in the same area, there would be brief chatter, formal chatter, and a momentary recollection of their short term relationship. And every time, they both thought here we go again, as there would mostly be banter instead of a conversation if there weren't many people around.

It was almost continuous. Almost.

Up until a ball that had taken place a few months before, in which the British King, Charles II, who was also the monarch of Scotland and Ireland, had remarked how the Parisian monarch had not been married, despite being in his early twenties, just shy of twenty three. When the young man had simply replied with a cover up of no particular reason for remaining unmarried, everything had gone downhill.

And that's when Charles had begun sending fair dames of nobility, saying that should something happen, there should at least be a Queen to rule.

To be blunt, the thought made Louis' stomach churn. It made it twist this way and that. It made him extremely nauseous and uncomfortable.

He definitely regretted saying no particular reason instead of there was already someone in mind, someone who despised me quite much. Then again, the latter would have been disastrous as well.

He needed to clear his mind, he decided, tapping his fingers absentmindedly on one of his books; the one with all his adjustments on his balloon, to be specific. He chewed on the side of his lip in thought. He really needed to avoid letting down two kingdoms and one ruler, he also desperately needed to clear things up with Corinne.

It was pathetic, one could say; two years had passed since what they had ended, but with every passing day he was just falling harder, and it hurt. Physically and mentally, it was really doing damage to his well being. Perhaps she was the human embodiment of poisoned sweets. Something lovable, something one would crave, yet also poisonous, but a slow, torturous death instead of a quick painful one.

It was the pain that clawed his heart, left it burning, yet also the same one that kept it beating.

Louis decides he hates the science behind love.

Louis decides he hates how he fell in love.

Louis decides he hates how couldn't fall out of love.

Louis decides he hates a lot of things.

He sighed, resting his forehead against the cool wooden surface as the sunlight streamed through the windows, he also hates how Corinne thought that them not being together would dismiss that feeling in his chest that makes him at a loss for words, has his heart beating as if he had run for two hours at the pace of a racing horse, and makes him melt in admiration all the time and turns his brain into alphabet soup; jumbled and disorganized.

Treville enters his study after a quick, brisk knock on the large doors of his study. He informed him of all the recent changes made on the Musketeer force, the recent thieves caught, and so forth. Clearing his throat, he added, "And Renèe Dumas will be getting married in three months, she told me to hand you this invitation."

Louis' throat suddenly dried as he stared up at the elder man in disbelief. "M-married?" He choked out. When the girls first became musketeers they couldn't possibly have been any older than eighteen. Then it struck him; the woman was old as he, and that five years had actually passed by that quickly. He gingerly accepted the crisp envelope. "Ah...yes." He nodded his head, frowning. He would definitely need to talk to her friend sooner. He flashed the Captain a smile. "Please pass my congratulations to her." He requested, standing to his feet and adjusting the cuffs of his jacket, fancy clothing could sometimes be rather uncomfortable, constantly twisting this way and that.

He briefly ignores how he wishes he could be a normal person living in the city; with light and simple clothing and a simpler life. He inwardly scowled at himself, ashamed for not being grateful to live a financially simple life.

Just as Treville reached the door, Louis called out, staring at the window in thought. "Oh, and Treville?" His mind told him not to do it, but his impulse and it's ally, the heart, argued, saying he would regret it even more. His mind brought up the fact that it was risky, rumors would fly like arrows. His heart protested, claiming it needed to be done.

The Captain raised an eyebrow, pausing. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

He smiled, an idea forming in his mind, the pieces to making it foolproof fitting it all together like a puzzle as his smile turned into a charming grin. "Could you tell your best musketeer to meet me in the courtyard?"

Treville nodded, a glint of understanding in his eyes as he smiled back, bowing briefly. "Will do, Sire." He said before exiting as Louis continued staring out the window, staring at the abandoned balloon, the wicker basket looking incredibly tiny from his view as he stared at the fluffy white clouds adorning the cornflower blue sky, his plan needed to work. He really needed it to work. It had to work.

So, less than thirty minutes later, after tripping and almost falling down a set of stairs in his haste, he had been pacing around the pavilion, nerves as jumbled as his brain was, fingertips cold, even though it was the middle of spring, despite the ever growing grin on his face despite the nervousness creeping in his bones.

He looked back at the inflated top of the balloon, held down by a few ropes, with a a grin that faltered within seconds as he reminisced about the past five years with a wistful sigh.

"Is this the only reason you requested my presence, your majesty?" A bewildered voice called out a few feet behind him. He turned around with a small smile, the slight tinge of casualty arising a bit of hope in him.

He shrugged slightly, holding a hand out. "For old times sake?" He asked hopefully.