The princess had requested an audience with him.

Well, not really. It was a ritual they had followed since their childhood--on days when the weather was pleasant and the stablemaster determined that the horses were sufficiently carried for, Bael would slip off to a particular hill and wait under a particular oak for a particular girl. Today was no different.

A gentle breeze swept through the leaves on the branches above his head, bringing with it a chill. As if sensing the promise of winter on the wind, the tree shed another handful of golden leaves. Bael counted them as they fell, his amber eyes agleam with the hope that soon his best (and perhaps only) friend would soon arrive. He leaned back against the curving slope of the tree's ancient trunk to rest his work-weary legs..

Bael was rather tall--about 6'7", some what unusual for the men of the village in which he had been found. He looked nothing like those men--the commonfolk of the kingdom generally had dark brown or red hair, tanned skin, and hazel or brown eyes. Bael had platinum blonde hair--the feature that first won him notice and ultimately safety from the dark alley in which he'd been left as a babe--short and curled. His eyes were a very light brown, but golden in just the right light. They made others uneasy, his eyes...

He shifted slightly, his gaze following the waning orange light of the sun as it drew back beyond the horizon, leaving a smattering of stars in its wake.

Bael's time as a stable boy had made him strong, though he had started out as a lanky, willowy little thing. The other stable workers left him be, despite their usual interest in bullying the younger members of the royal family's staff. In fact, many of the tradesmen and craftsmen working within the castle barely acknowledged the boy's presence for whatever reason. At least, they had for a long time...between the princess' favoritism and his own efforts, Bael felt that many in the castle now considered him something of a friend. Perhaps.

He glanced back in the direction of the castle to the trail head from which the princess usually emerged. Was it possible that she had forgotten..?

She had at last arrived.

With a small smile, Bael beckoned her over to him. She sat down nearby, but he chose to remain standing--laboring in the stables had been more difficult than usual that day and his back was too sore for things like crouching on the ground.

She seemed rather flustered and had quite a bit to discuss, apparently. He waited patiently for her to get settled and then nonchalantly gestured for her to go on, "Alright. Out with it...what's the news from your father?" Presumably it had something to do with some event or other they would likely host at the castle. It had been at least a month since the royal family had a party--the princess' birthday had been the last.

ooc: Soooo sorry for the delay. I was gone all weekend and didn't have an internet connection. I'll have quite a bit more time available to me now, however, so I shouldn't have to keep you waiting for at least the next few weeks. :3

bic:

She mentioned yet another suitor--how odd that she should seem happy while discussing such a dreadful topic. Bael recalled the many hours spent making fun of the men her father would parade before her, how all of them seemed old or ugly or fat or any combination of the three, and how certain they were that she'd simply have to rule on her own at this rate...

He was caught off guard by her next words, however. The princess wouldn't have been able to tell any difference in his demeanor, so excited was she about the prospect of marriage. He felt as though a flame had been lit at the very base of his spine and that the heat had begun crawling up his back and into his brain, its smoke filling his gaze and mind with a reddish haze. He had stopped listening some time ago but made sure that any pain he experienced was entirely contained--he nodded whenever her eyes met his, seeking approval or some sign of interest; he smiled to match her grin; he even vaguely recalled asking her to further describe this mysterious new suitor, "..surely the royal family will always have horses that need caring for. Does he like horses?"

But why the strange reaction? He had always felt a pang of jealousy whenever she spoke of the men who came to call upon her and he'd always known that someday one would capture her attention. She had been destined from birth to become a bridge between kingdoms, and it was only a matter of time, he'd told himself, until she would find a prince or lord who would serve her father's purposes while not also being completely repulsive. How many times had his inner monologue lectured about the day she would finally leave him in the stables while traveling off to some distant kingdom and a new life as a queen?

The redness in his vision only deepened. He could no longer see the stars though they had been out for some time since the sun's last rays had died behind the mountains in the distance.

It was as if the gods wished to add insult to injury. Not only was this woman betrothed to a man that wasn't himself, Bael heard her utter the words "I would like your blessing" to top it all off.

He stared blankly off into the night as if studying some constellation he'd just found in the night sky. He could hear his own pulse sounding in his ears like the drums of war and felt the feeling leave his extremities as he fought the redness that had overcome his vision. He found himself unable to speak for a long while.

After some time (he wasn't sure how long), Bael raised a hand delicately to his own brow and stepped away from the base of the oak, "..I'm afraid I can't stay long. I caught fever this morning, chose to ignore it, and now it seems to have returned with a vengeance." How he managed to remain coherent, Bael would never know.

"I will see you tomorrow..perhaps.." He waved off-handedly to her before stumbling off into the woods.

Once he was sure he had walked out of the girl's sight, Bael broke into a dead run. He ran straight through several briar patches, but didn't seem to notice through his fury. With a bloodcurdling screech, he leaped onto a low-slung tree branch somewhere off to his left and proceeded to climb up the bow toward the very top. As he climbed, he heard the tell-tale ripping sounds as two great, leathery wings emerged from below his shoulder blades.

He couldn't go back to the castle in the state he was in. He had to get away. Just for a little while. He'd come back in the morning (he couldn't leave her; it wasn't her fault, after all), but right now...he needed some freedom from the world.

Without making a sound, Bael lifted into the air and soared off above the treeline, headed in the general direction of the mountains that now hid the sun..

ooc: Didn't want to pack too much awkward/angriness in the first go. xD I figure he could try to avoid her for the week leading up to the wedding or something and she could try to look for him or...I dunno.

ooc: I apologize again. ^^ And yes, I didn't mean for him to be gone very long. Just for an hour or two to take a breather, you know?

bic:

Bael had worked on much less sleep than what he'd managed to get the night before, but somehow he felt more tired and weak than ever. In fact, were it not from the sheer muscle memory behind waking up before dawn and shoveling out the horse pens, he might not have gotten up at all. It was well into the third or fourth hour of his work that he realized he was awake and moving--his mind had wandered so deep inside itself that he barely noticed when a large gelding headbutted him playfully and knocked him to the hay-covered floor of the stables.

It was just the wake-up call he needed, however, and Bael was now able to finish his chores in the stables with his usual speed and efficiency.

Some colts and mares had been brought in the week before, bought from a merchant who had bred them far to the east. They were unusual--tall and sleek and fast. Not at all like the drafts and large, muscular horses that one usually saw in this region.

Bael had been informed by the stable master that he would need to begin breaking them in that day. Bael was perhaps the most capable of the stablehands, but no one ever enjoys being tossed or bucked or kicked repeatedly. He rubbed his temple and inwardly cringed at the thought. But what better way to fight off the depression that had settled in since the night before? Hard work and perhaps some physical pain might just not the sense back into him.

Bael gathered together some supplies--a blanket, some rope, a bit--and headed out to the field where the new horses were being kept temporarily...

Well, he'd managed it. A full day without a single thought in his head apart from those directly pertaining to his work (more specifically, not having any of his body parts rearranged by an angry, ill-placed kick). The young colt he had been working with seemed much improved from that morning and almost seemed sad to see Bael go.

Bael was quite relieved, however. Exhausted after a full day of breaking the horse in, he eagerly sought the comfort of his bed in the loft above the stables (there were rooms in the castle, but he preferred space in the barn on all but very cold nights). After slowly climbing the ladder and shifting across the rafters somewhat haphazardly, the man collapsed on his bed of hay and wrapped himself in the old quilt he'd been given. Dinner would be served soon, he knew, but he had no interest in anything but quiet and sleep. He felt safe here..