This is inspired by my friend's STARRIBE work from her series, "Once Upon A Time." When I read the bulk of her work I was really impressed. That said, I thought I'd do a bit of Fan Fiction on her stuff, and this my story. While Starr's writing of the character was definately more ADULT centered, this story is geared for a young audience. Thoughts, opinions, feedback welomed.
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Bastian Nash yanked on his horses reins, stopping him. The Arabian, Thor, nayed his displeasure, but Bastian ignored him. Instead, he squared his shoulders in a gesture that settled his metal helmet firmly on his face. He raised his wooden lance and stared down the jousting field. It didnt matter that his good friend and second, Matthias Gaunt, was his opponent. In this moment, Matthias was his enemy.
The referee, who was standing on the sidelines, hit the drum. Bastian dug his spurs into Thors flank and the horse took off in a dead sprint. Matthias grew closer. Bastian steeled himself, holding his posture rigid. His eyes cut to Matthiass helmet. His opponent was just as determined as he was. Their lances clashed. Bastian rocked in his saddle, but held on. He yanked on the reins, slowing down Thor. When he turned around, Matthias was on the other end, still on his horse.
Bastian chuckled. Good. That was why he was Bastians man.
He squared his shoulders, ready for another trip. The referee hit the drum again. This time Bastian not only held his lance firm, he pushed forward as he struck Matthias. His friend fell off his horse.
Bastian quickly jerked on the reins of his horse, stopping him. He jumped off and ran up to Matthias, who lay on the ground. A stablehand rushed to his friends side and helped Matthias take off his helmet.
Bastian looked at his friend. Are you good?
Aye, my prince. Im just a bit winded, thats all.
Bastian extended his hand toward Matthias and helped him up. A couple of attendants approached and Bastian gave them his lance and helmet to care for. Matthias also gave up his equipment.
Youre a tough opponent, Matthias, said Bastian. Youd give Prince Oram a challenge, Im sure of it.
Youll win the joust, dont doubt it, said Matthias.
Bastian fell in step next to his friend as they walked toward Albans Keep. It was a bright summer day, and he was sweating in his chain mail. The servants area in the back of the keep had a bathing facility and he was going to wash himself.
I know Prince Oram will represent Fenwick. Who do you think will represent Somerland? asked Matthias.
Theres a rumor Viscount Stratham will do it.
Theodore Stratham?
Aye.
King Amery would be better off if he jousted himself, said Matthias.
Bastian chuckled. You know, its usually the mild who surprise you.
Prauge will be there as well. Prince Vladimir is riding for them, said Matthias.
Vladimir cheats, said Bastian.
Well, the Kings Conference is two weeks away. Youll be ready, Ill see to it, replied Matthias.
Bastian put his hand on Matthiass shoulder. Youre a good man.
Matthias said nothing and they proceeded toward the keep. Bastian was the crown prince of Madeoc, a prosperous country on the northern coast of Vavirdock. Every five years the fellow kings of Vavirdock, Somerland, Prauge Fenwick, Hamlin, Madeoc, and Bremen, met in a designated location for the Kings Conference. He was eager to represent Madeoc in the joust. After all, the winner received great honors.
As he approached the keep, he spied his younger sister, Helga, exiting through the servants door. His eyes cut to the road that led from Albans proper to the castle. Emissaries heralding Fenwicks colors were here. Curious. What would Fenwick want with his father two weeks before the conference?
Bastian! yelled Helga. She waved at him.
He kept walking toward her, waving his own hand in acknowledgment.
What do you think the princess wants?
Bastian shrugged his shoulders. I dont know.
Helga was fifteen and a rare beauty. Shed inherited their fathers Nordic looks long blonde hair and angular features. He had, too. They both received their mothers sensitive cerulean eyes.
Bastian!
Aye, Helga. Whats up?
His sister marched right up to him. Emissaries from Fenwick are here.
I see that. What have you heard?
Ingrid in the kitchen says theyre here to broker a marriage arrangement that father will announce at the conference.
Marriage? He was surprised. He always thought his father would allow him to pick his bride. After all, his father had chosen his mother as his bride.
Prince Oram is your age, Bastian. Do you think he asked for me?
Bastian crossed his arms. Its possible, but weve never had emissaries like such. Arent they usually here for the firstborn?
Tis true, Prince, said Matthias. But your father favors you. Hell let you pick your own bride I think.
Are they here for me or you? Bastian asked his
sister.
I dont know. Perhaps father is considering Orams sister, Lettice, for you.
Bastian crossed his arms and scrunched up his nose. Lettice Aricsson did not appeal to him as a bride. She talked far too fast and far too much about meaningless topics that bored him.
Ha! Id rather marry Edana of Somerland. No, the emissaries cant be here for me. Father would let me choose my own bride, said Bastian, talking himself into that choice.
Edanas too shy for the likes of you, brother, said Helga.
At least she knows how to hold her tongue unlike Lettice. Oram must have asked for you. Its the only thing that makes sense.
Well, when you go inside and talk to father, try to find out if it is me Fenwick is asking for. Hell tell you. He tells you everything.
Aye, Ill brooch the topic with him.
Helga smiled. Thank you, Bastian.
Youre welcome. Come, lets go inside. I need a bath.
Helga wrinkled her nose. You do.
He escorted his sister back into the keep and made his way to the bath area. The emissaries just couldnt be here for him! Lettice was too much of a troublemaker. She gossiped and ran her mouth. She was demanding at best, infuriating at worse, and when he saw her at the past conferences, it was all he could do to reign in his patience around her.
Edana of Somerland now she intrigued him. She was Amery Ramberts only heir. She was Bastians age with long, dark raven curls and sweet walnut-hazel eyes that always seemed lost in far away dreams. Edana had a reputation of being cool and aloof, but Bastian suspected there was more to her, especially when he managed to catch a rare peek of her alone at the conference without her father.
He walked into the bath area and two servants delivered him four pails of hot water. He thanked them and sent them on their way. The conference was going to be held to be held in Madeoc near Fenwicks border. As he took off the last bit of his clothes, a sudden chill ripped through him. Still unsure if the emissaries were here for him, he was determined to find his father as soon as he cleaned up.
*********
Bastian Nash yanked on his horses reins, stopping him. The Arabian, Thor, nayed his displeasure, but Bastian ignored him. Instead, he squared his shoulders in a gesture that settled his metal helmet firmly on his face. He raised his wooden lance and stared down the jousting field. It didnt matter that his good friend and second, Matthias Gaunt, was his opponent. In this moment, Matthias was his enemy.
The referee, who was standing on the sidelines, hit the drum. Bastian dug his spurs into Thors flank and the horse took off in a dead sprint. Matthias grew closer. Bastian steeled himself, holding his posture rigid. His eyes cut to Matthiass helmet. His opponent was just as determined as he was. Their lances clashed. Bastian rocked in his saddle, but held on. He yanked on the reins, slowing down Thor. When he turned around, Matthias was on the other end, still on his horse.
Bastian chuckled. Good. That was why he was Bastians man.
He squared his shoulders, ready for another trip. The referee hit the drum again. This time Bastian not only held his lance firm, he pushed forward as he struck Matthias. His friend fell off his horse.
Bastian quickly jerked on the reins of his horse, stopping him. He jumped off and ran up to Matthias, who lay on the ground. A stablehand rushed to his friends side and helped Matthias take off his helmet.
Bastian looked at his friend. Are you good?
Aye, my prince. Im just a bit winded, thats all.
Bastian extended his hand toward Matthias and helped him up. A couple of attendants approached and Bastian gave them his lance and helmet to care for. Matthias also gave up his equipment.
Youre a tough opponent, Matthias, said Bastian. Youd give Prince Oram a challenge, Im sure of it.
Youll win the joust, dont doubt it, said Matthias.
Bastian fell in step next to his friend as they walked toward Albans Keep. It was a bright summer day, and he was sweating in his chain mail. The servants area in the back of the keep had a bathing facility and he was going to wash himself.
I know Prince Oram will represent Fenwick. Who do you think will represent Somerland? asked Matthias.
Theres a rumor Viscount Stratham will do it.
Theodore Stratham?
Aye.
King Amery would be better off if he jousted himself, said Matthias.
Bastian chuckled. You know, its usually the mild who surprise you.
Prauge will be there as well. Prince Vladimir is riding for them, said Matthias.
Vladimir cheats, said Bastian.
Well, the Kings Conference is two weeks away. Youll be ready, Ill see to it, replied Matthias.
Bastian put his hand on Matthiass shoulder. Youre a good man.
Matthias said nothing and they proceeded toward the keep. Bastian was the crown prince of Madeoc, a prosperous country on the northern coast of Vavirdock. Every five years the fellow kings of Vavirdock, Somerland, Prauge Fenwick, Hamlin, Madeoc, and Bremen, met in a designated location for the Kings Conference. He was eager to represent Madeoc in the joust. After all, the winner received great honors.
As he approached the keep, he spied his younger sister, Helga, exiting through the servants door. His eyes cut to the road that led from Albans proper to the castle. Emissaries heralding Fenwicks colors were here. Curious. What would Fenwick want with his father two weeks before the conference?
Bastian! yelled Helga. She waved at him.
He kept walking toward her, waving his own hand in acknowledgment.
What do you think the princess wants?
Bastian shrugged his shoulders. I dont know.
Helga was fifteen and a rare beauty. Shed inherited their fathers Nordic looks long blonde hair and angular features. He had, too. They both received their mothers sensitive cerulean eyes.
Bastian!
Aye, Helga. Whats up?
His sister marched right up to him. Emissaries from Fenwick are here.
I see that. What have you heard?
Ingrid in the kitchen says theyre here to broker a marriage arrangement that father will announce at the conference.
Marriage? He was surprised. He always thought his father would allow him to pick his bride. After all, his father had chosen his mother as his bride.
Prince Oram is your age, Bastian. Do you think he asked for me?
Bastian crossed his arms. Its possible, but weve never had emissaries like such. Arent they usually here for the firstborn?
Tis true, Prince, said Matthias. But your father favors you. Hell let you pick your own bride I think.
Are they here for me or you? Bastian asked his
sister.
I dont know. Perhaps father is considering Orams sister, Lettice, for you.
Bastian crossed his arms and scrunched up his nose. Lettice Aricsson did not appeal to him as a bride. She talked far too fast and far too much about meaningless topics that bored him.
Ha! Id rather marry Edana of Somerland. No, the emissaries cant be here for me. Father would let me choose my own bride, said Bastian, talking himself into that choice.
Edanas too shy for the likes of you, brother, said Helga.
At least she knows how to hold her tongue unlike Lettice. Oram must have asked for you. Its the only thing that makes sense.
Well, when you go inside and talk to father, try to find out if it is me Fenwick is asking for. Hell tell you. He tells you everything.
Aye, Ill brooch the topic with him.
Helga smiled. Thank you, Bastian.
Youre welcome. Come, lets go inside. I need a bath.
Helga wrinkled her nose. You do.
He escorted his sister back into the keep and made his way to the bath area. The emissaries just couldnt be here for him! Lettice was too much of a troublemaker. She gossiped and ran her mouth. She was demanding at best, infuriating at worse, and when he saw her at the past conferences, it was all he could do to reign in his patience around her.
Edana of Somerland now she intrigued him. She was Amery Ramberts only heir. She was Bastians age with long, dark raven curls and sweet walnut-hazel eyes that always seemed lost in far away dreams. Edana had a reputation of being cool and aloof, but Bastian suspected there was more to her, especially when he managed to catch a rare peek of her alone at the conference without her father.
He walked into the bath area and two servants delivered him four pails of hot water. He thanked them and sent them on their way. The conference was going to be held to be held in Madeoc near Fenwicks border. As he took off the last bit of his clothes, a sudden chill ripped through him. Still unsure if the emissaries were here for him, he was determined to find his father as soon as he cleaned up.
