:)
The mansion on 39th street had always been considered haunted by the locals. It had belonged to an ancient and power family - The Caervon's. The Caervon's had lived there for centuries. A secretive and very reclusive family, they had rarely ventured amongst the locals and families that resided in the large town not far away. They had been a well thought of and liked family, even though it seemed as though they thought they were above such mortals as those that lived in the town.
The parents -- Lord and Lady Caervon -- were both members of charitable organizations and seemed good natured, although quiet, when around others. Of children, they had three. Two boys and a girl.
The eldest boy was fair and light, like his mother, but had his father's frozen demeanor when angered. His name was Ayden. He was being
trained by his father to manage the estate. This, and maybe other reasons, was why the boy didn't seem to like the other children of the town, who would sometimes come and mingle with the Caervon children.
The second boy was exactly opposite of his fair brother. While the latter was blond and had grey eyes; Luka, for that was his name, had hair so brown it was almost always considered black; his eyes dark green, which would turn darker when angry. And angry he was. Unlike his brother, his temper was explosive and often violent, although, to the Caervon servants' relief, not generally toward people themselves. The boys rarely smiled and on the rare occasion they did, it greatly startled those in immediate presence.
The little girl, the youngest, was the angel of the family. She had midnight curls and eyes so blue, the servants' would say they were chips from the sky. She brought light and laughter to the house. There was no ebb to her smiles and her laughter flowed through the house, for no matter where you stood, you could hear it. Her name was Arielle.
The Caervon children and the children from town were wont to frolic and play, as previously mentioned. Although, the Caervon boys didn't so much play, as observe. Arielle, however, as the curious and adventurous child, wandered freely with the other children her age. One in particular, another little girl named Belle.
Now Belle, contrary to her name, was not as beautiful as Arielle. A sad fact, as many of the Caervon servants' observed. She came from a very poor family, one that could not feed their children so well as to keep them from looking underfed. She had lank hair - always pulled into a scruffy braid - of an indefinable brownish color, perhaps because she didn't get as many baths as she should, and eyes that were the blue of the ocean...and nearly as deep.
The first day that Arielle had dragged Belle to the mansion, sent the whole house into a flutter. The servants' were certain that a dirty child, from a family so poor they had to beg for food, would not be very welcome as the best friend of their Arielle. And right they were. When the Lord and Lady of the mansion learned of this turn of events, they were not happy.
Unfortunately for Lord and Lady Caervon, one of the family curses was extreme stubbornness. Arielle tried every trick. She begged, cajoled, cried, ranted, screamed, and wheedled. In the end, nothing worked. Arielle's parents would not let her have such a friend and Belle was sent out the door by the kindly housekeeper, who patted her on the back, gave her an apple and told her to never come to the house again.
Arielle, however, was not to be defeated. She decided to punish her parents for their actions and despite many scoldings and outright yelling, did not speak or look at them. However, what most worried the inhabitants of the house was that Arielle did not smile. She did not laugh. She did not beg pastries from the cook or pester the maids. She sat and she brooded. The doctor was called, but she was not sick. She ignored even her brothers' attempts to bring her out of her misery. Finally, with much reluctance, Lord Caervon sent a man to bring the child Belle back to the manor.
*
But what could have inspired such devotion in such little time?
The day Arielle met Belle was so bright and sunny that it drove even the most adventurous to the shade. It just so happened, that both Arielle and Belle had decided on the same bit of shade to seek cover under. In fact, whilst one was so absorbed in her thoughts of berries and the other with getting under the shade before she got sunburned, they smacked straight into each other.
"What did you do that for?!" Arielle asked angrily, it was one of the few times she got angry -- when she was taken by surprise.
Belle simply stared at her. She had never seen anyone as exquisite as Arielle. She reminded Belle of a little glass statuette that she had seen in a windowsill. Arielle stood there with her little white hands resting on her hips. She had a look of righteous indignation on her face. But Belle's stare was starting to unnerve her.
"What?" She asked her mood suddenly shifting to nervousness. Belle bit her lip and looked down.
"N-nothing." She stammered, almost in a whisper, "I'm sorry." Then she turned around and began to walk away.
"Wait." Arielle ran up and walked beside her. Arielle had never seen anyone so...scruffy. Even the stable boy washed up a bit. She decided she would ask about it.
"Why don't you take a bath?" She asked boldly. Belle looked up at her.
"What's a...bath?" She asked still almost in a whisper. At this Arielle nearly tripped.
"What's a -- but haven't you ever had one?" She gasped.
"We don't have very much." Belle admitted bluntly. Arielle began to ask a question but was interrupted by a different voice, not friendly at all.
"What do you think your doing?!" It was a little boy. A little, unfriendly boy, with sharp eyes and a sharp face. In fact, he seemed to be made up of angles. There were two other boys with him, standing by his sides. One was skinny and gangly, the other rather stout. None of them looked very happy to see the girls, who had apparently wandered onto their territory.
"Who are you?"
Arielle started. The question had been asked by Belle. But there was a tone in the voice that made Arielle shiver. The boy glared at Belle contemptuously.
"I'm Beric and you're a stupid girl." He poked his finger at Belle. Arielle looked at Belle and was startled. Gone was the stammering girl and in her place was a little tomboy who didn't take crap from anyone, especially boys. Her teeth were bared, her legs braced, and her eyes narrowed.
"Well, I think you're a stupid boy." She said, flicking her braid over her shoulder; she didn't seem the least bit afraid that these boys were starting to look angry and were advancing slowly.
"You'll regret that, girl." Beric said and he and the two others began to walk toward them. Arielle, who had never been in this kind of argument before, started and walked backwards, but Belle simply raised her little fists and waited.
The fact that Belle wasn't running seemed to put a seed of doubt in the boys' minds. She obviously couldn't win, but was still standing there. The reason for this, they seemed to surmise was that either she had backup somewhere or that she actually knew what she was doing.
They stopped. Beric raised an eyebrow, but Belle didn't move. Arielle, for the first time, was jealous of another girl. Not because of beauty or possessions, but because of bravery.
Beric shrugged and the boys moved off as though they didn't care that a girl had unnerved them or that they didn't mean to walk off anyway. But Arielle saw that the boy Beric's eyes were filled with retribution; one day they would pay.
Perhaps, this does not seem like a very good reason for children to become friends. But to a child, and to Arielle, who had always been coddled and never shown the violent world, it was revolutionary. She immediately considered Belle her friend. And Belle who had never had a true friend, or a friend who was female, decided this was a fine plan.
*
Belle was very afraid of the mansion. She suffered Arielle to drag her there merely because, well, it was Arielle. But to go with someone she didn't know, who stared coldly at the hovel she lived in and sneered in disgust at her... well, that was an entirely different matter. But who could ignore a missive from the Great Lord of Caervon? So she went.
When Belle walked into the mansion, she was filled with the feeling of uneasiness that she had when she had first been here. She stood in the parlor, with her hands clasped in front of her, beads of sweat beginning to form on her forehead. A door opened and she started, but when she looked, it was neither Lord Caervon -- who she feared- nor Arielle- who she actually wanted to see.
It was Luka.
Belle drew a ragged breath and straightened her shoulders. Boys she could deal with. She was never afraid of boys. After all, she had three brothers of her own. Three brothers who didn't care that she was girl; who treated her as if she were a boy.
Luka stared at her for a moment, his green eyes unreadable, before sauntering forward. This caused Belle to narrow her eyes. In her experience, boys who had such a careless gait were obvious up to trouble.
"You can sit down if you want." Luka said frowning. Belle lifted her chin.
"I didn't want to dirty the chair." She told him. He stood looking at her, a furrow in his brow. Then, sighing, he walked over to a chair, picked it up, and set it down behind her. She watched this all in silent amazement and was taken completely by surprise when he pushed her into the chair. Sputtering, Belle pushed herself up, but before she could jump out of the seat in indignation, the door opened again.
This time it was Lord Caervon. But he wasn't alone, either. Ayden was there, his grey eyes showing nothing when he looked her over. And Arielle was there as well. She grinned when she saw Belle, but abruptly sobered when her father looked at her. Lord Caervon surveyed Belle majestically, she thought, from his towering height. Not knowing what to do, she simply sat and looked at the floor. When Lord Caervon spoke his voice was soft, but deep and reverberating.
"What is your name, child?" He asked her. Daring a peek, Belle looked up at him. He didn't seem angry...
"Belle, milord." She half whispered.
