Ride into a new future (Gunnar)

[CHRISTABELLE WINDSOR]

Things never seem to be going right for Christabelle first she grows up knowing her parents don’t really care for her or care if she lives or dies and second she is forced into an engagement with a cripple looking gimp that can’t walk or stand really on his own. How in the hell is someone like that going to be King? She knew her mother wanted her out of her hair and the family’s life but she did not know how much until now. Yes she knew she would be treated different because she was a girl and women did not rule really alone but still it was something that was hard to wrap her head around her life. She was only eighteen years old yet here she was feeling older then her years. She was not happy at Versailles as she was among hordes of people yet she felt so alone. Letting out a sigh she walked along the halls of the palace watching as other couples walked hand on hand some even kissing. All this affection was rather new to her as she never saw much of it growing up and from the looks of things she was not going to be getting much after this marriage either.

She was close to her younger sister bit even that relationship has its issues. Why was it so hard to belong to a family that truly loved you? Wanting to get some fresh air to help clear her head Christabelle wanted to go outside and enjoy the fresh air for as long as she can. I mean once marred to Dastan fresh wont be something she has the luxury of enjoying most of the time. There was no way she would dishonor her family by backing out of this but she did wonder what her future with a future who maybe paralyzed in a few years be like could they even have children? Letting out a sigh Christabelle made her way through the green grass path to the stables where the best horses in all of Europe has been house. She loved these magical like creatures and how such simple movements they did seemed so graceful. She had not really ridden much since she fell off those many years ago and while others tried to get her to ride again this Princess was scared to.


Walking in slowly Christabelle’s eyes looked down the dozens upon dozens of stalls some of these horses were other royals also and she spotted her own horse that her mother made her bring with her shaking her head she laughed. “Don’t know why we brought you not like I am going to have much use for a horse now.” she said out loud. Her horse was a pure white stallion Snowy White because of her color. It was not the horses fault Christabelle couldn’t love her as much but she also knew what she was doing wasn’t fair because she was treating this horse like her parents did her. As she made her way further into the stables she did notice this place was perfectly clean looked better then some homes with marble drinking bowls for every horse. Not too many things scared her these days but getting back on a horse was one of them. Walking closer to her horses stall she slowly reached out and gently stroked the animals face. The poor thing did not know what was going on she looked as confused as Christabelle did.

Most of the ladies running around that were about to get married all seem so happy and excited they all had promising futures. But not her from the look and sound of things. Her future if anything was not filled with happy thoughts of dancing on her wedding day and having children nope it would be filled with can the prince get out of bed today and will he even make it five years into the marriage. But being here around the horses was starting to calm her nerves and making Christabelle relaxes even if just a little. This trip was supposed to help change her life for the better. But all it had done was add to the stress that ahs been part of her life for as long as she could remember. Life had done nothing but throw curve after curve at her. So just once she wanted to see if life could be nice and give her something to smile about give her someone who would be kind that wasn’t too much to ask…was it?


Her dress fc01.deviantart.net/fs29/f/2009/240/d/7/18th_Century_Gown_by_Verdaera.jpg

[GUNNAR VANQUIST]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, border-radius: 1em; -moz-border-radius: 1em; background-image:url(http://i56.tinypic.com/2wom9du.png), width: 400px; height: 400px;] Sometimes I wish for falling, Wish for the release I’ll dance with myself, I drunk myself down, Found people to love, Left people to drown, I'm not scared to jump, I'm not scared to fall, there was nowhere to land, I wouldn't be scared at all… 'My friend's father looked very serious. 'I'm sorry, Robinson, but you must never go to sea again. Stay on land,' he said. 'There is something about you that's unlucky.' In years to come I would often remember his words.' Gunnar snapped closed the cover to Robinson Crusoe. A deep breath, he collected himself, barely containing the urge to pitch the damned thing into the fountain. Even literature mocked him. Discord followed in his wake, leaving death and disease wherever he went. Sardonically he wondered if it might still follow him to France, and snatch from him the only two people left in his life of genuine significance. 'Unlucky.' Shaking his head, his sister's voice rang clear in his mind, berating him for his perpetual self-pitying behaviour. But they were orphans, and he unprepared for the weighty task that landed in his lap unexpectedly early. She could never understand. He sighed. She was right. If only he would believe it. Her voice nagging in his mind once more, he reopened the book, carefully skimming its pages to where he had stopped. Once, Gunnar would have given anything to trade places with Robinson for just a single day. Adventure in his heart, there was no more a thrilling exploit than to explore the wild isles of South America. Barely escaping with his life from ravenous cannibals could prove just as much fun to the open minded. It was living. Really living. A desperate, basal thirst for life was nevertheless a motivation to press forward. He had naught left but his sisters, already believing himself to have proven an absent and ineffective King, which had further stomped the spirit of hope from him. He was too young. He could never live up to his mother's legacy. Not even the advice of the wisest and eldest monarch could save him from the pit that swallowed him slowly. He sighed again. Once his sisters were married, which he knew drew inevitably closer, he would be left with nothing but memories. It seemed surreal that not even a year ago Gunnar had thrived in the beauty of freedom, when every single instance of friendship and folly held the weight of the world. Significance could be found in everything; boundless observation and experience. But that was yesterday and far away. He was a man now. He needed behave as such, something he knew his mother, even in death, would agree with. Shaking his head again, he turned the page. Now, Gunnar would have given anything to trade places with Robinson forever. 'Unlucky.' Gunnar closed the book again. This was no good. The gardens were no good. He could find no peace of mind here today. Rising from his seat along the edge of an ornate fountain, he turned and stalked in long strides down the rocky garden path. Those he passed he did not greet, nor so much as exchange glances, his eyes carefully averted towards his feet. Though new peoples from every corner of Europe seemed to arrive at Versailles in daily droves, Gunnar had ostracised himself purposefully for much of that week. He sought counsel from his peers, not a lavish French vacation, and space and time to consider their advice. The scales tipped in favour of the latter as of recent, Gunnar was beginning to find contempt in his new locale, which had, until this point, seemed to be doing his mind some good. So Gunnar retreated further into himself. Passing a gaggle of giggling ladies, he could only hope his sisters were enjoying themselves better than he. His thoughts carried him from the courtyard to the Place D'Armes, from across which great expanse he could see the Grand Stables just along the horizon. Once before riding had aided in clearing his mind, his horse more empathetic to him than any man. Animals were intuitive. But even having been a guest at Versailles longer than most of the other visiting royalty, he had only taken the beast out a handful of times. Feeling guilty for neglecting him, he thought perhaps they could bond in their isolation. Tucking the book into his coat pocket, Gunnar took the last few steps toward the stables at a jog, determined to find some sense of equanimity for at least an hour that day. But any hope he may have had seemed dashed the moment he crossed the threshold. Noises. He was not alone. His face fell into a begrudging scowl. He should have expected this, what with the sudden influx of royalty carrying their courts in tow. Like mice they clamoured atop each other, even in such an expansive palace. No man had space for even his own thoughts. Unwilling to seek out another means of occupying his weary mind, he stepped further into the stables, seeking out his ageing chestnut stallion, until the source of the noise finally caught his eye. A lady, perhaps of his age, exquisite in a green and yellow robe. She was pretty, yes, but it was not her face that drew him to her, but rather her voice, and the dispirited tone reminiscent of his own. Curiosity breaking his vow of isolation, he strode up behind her. “Un très beau animal,” he remarked of her horse in deep, rumbling French. © melly welly from caution 2.0 | LYRICS BY FLORENCE & THE MACHINE| 878 WORDS | NOTES: Opening is an except from “Robinson Crusoe” credit to Daniel Defoe.

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[CHRISTABELLE WINDSOR]

She thought she was alone in the stables not hearing anybody come in but when her silence was broken by low tone French she turned her head and then her body to see who was there. Christabelle’s eyes looked this man up and down as she could tell by the material he was wearing and the way he carried himself this man before her was of royal blood. The first thing she did notice was his hair, his hair seemed almost like silk it was short but framed his face with those handsome eyes rather well. Yes he was handsome but if anybody in her family could hear what she was thinking it would get right back to Dastan some how and Belle still did not know what to think of her fiancé this man she was supposed to marry great she had to have a talk with her older sister about this one next time she saw her. How the hell could she have it be ok that her own flesh and blood was to marry that man? Bringing her mind back to where it was supposed to be Belle being a proper lady and knowing she had to present herself in the right light did what she had been raised to do in this case.


Going down elegantly into a curtsy she presented a slight smile as smiling was not her thing and said “Thank you for the compliment sir my name is Princess Christabelle Mary Windsor of England.” She told him as she stood back up. This man there was something about him within these short few moments of meeting him that Belle could not explain it. She did not feel tense around him she did not want to just go into another room and slam the door. “He was a gift that unfortunately has not been used.” she said rather softly hoping that right now nobody else was to come in there would be whispers since she was the fiancé of the crowned prince of Rome that she was alone with another man. But she had done nothing wrong as she was being polite and showing common curtsey to a fellow Royal. Christabelle played with the lace on the edge of the seat as she turned to look at her horse for a minute she it was not obvious she was looking too much at this handsome stranger a man she had just met then looking back she gave him the same polite smile but a little forced.


She wasn’t being rude she did not mean to be but smiling and be nice to strangers was not her forte and it was not her fault. Growing up she was not around others much her life was filled with her younger sister and nannies and the like but other royals not so much. She was only around then when it suited her parents to parade them out so they looked good. There was still so much she had to learn about proper protocol who she can be alone with and who she can’t. After all she is a future Queen and as that so much is on her shoulders the pressure from her family to make this engagement work was too much. She already had one failure behind her the last thing she needed was another and another would be a chance for her mother and brother to once again make her feel like horse crap. Christabelle did not say much more because one a lady does not talk too much and two she was so interested to find out who this handsome stranger was. Sounds of the horses could be heard behind her as people walked but nobody walked in for now they were alone.