Welcome to Gaia! ::

He watched her as she stared out the window as he so often did. It never ceased to amaze him how her hair glowed whenever a ray of sunlight shone upon it. How the light could easily catch her silvery grey eyes, and how innocent, young, and kind her smile was.

He hated that.

The girl was too perfect, like a princess out of a fairytale, but she was far from royalty. The man had found her not even a year back, wandering the streets, searching for food, she had been less than a peasant and surely would have died in a week’s time, had he not took her in to his home. But fairytales were not real, and never would be, though this girl was as close to it as they came.

Apparently the girl had known when many other children were about to fall ill, and had scared some families far enough to actually try to get help, some put their kin out of their misery ahead of time, so soon that they would never experience the first symptom. And some families ignored the warning completely… until one child actually fell ill and eventually died.

Peasants began to go to the extreme of accusing the young girl of being a prophet; the last with The Seeing Eye; A Witch of Black Magic. All the murmurs and whispers could be heard as one walked down the pebbled road alongside the downed buildings where the poor lived, swearing and cursing the rich and high class as they passed by.

But he ignored all of that. To him, it was all a bunch of rubbish spread by peasants; like butter on bread. He turned his attention back to how she looked in the light. Her dress was frayed near the end, from being dragged along the road most likely, but it did nothing to insult her beauty.

The man had decided to call the girl Jolie, meaning pretty in French. Give her a few more years, he thought. And she’ll become one of the most sought out women in all of England—that is, if she lasts that long. He turned his attention to the ground.

Lately the man was losing patience with Jolie; she hardly talked. He tried pressing her into conversation at many of the parties he threw at his manor, but however many times he tried, all he ever got out of Jolie was, “Monsieur, how do you do?” Even at his last party, that was all the girl had said to anyone—including some kind sirs with the highest of social status.

“Monsieur Louie, may I go down to the garden?” The man looked up from the floor. Of course, the garden—it was Jolies’ favorite place to be.

But before he could answer, there was a knock at the door, and in came one of the manor's many servants. If he recalled correctly, this young girl’s name was Emmaline. She was young, only about a year older than Jolie. Her hair was short and dark—average. Absolutely nothing compared to Jolie’s beauty.

“Dinner will be ready in a few moments, monsieur. Will you be eating in the dining hall, or shall I bring up a tray?”

“Thank you, but no. Jolie and I will be down in a bit.” The servant nodded and left the room. You could hear the third stair down creek from age as she came across it.

Louie turned to face Jolie, “Well, Cherie, shall we go eat then?” He questioned, plastering on a fake smile. Jolie glanced once more out the window and down at the luscious green garden with a sorrowful look on her face.

She nodded and put on her own smile, one that was almost angelic. Louie reached for Jolie’s small hand and kissed it. His hand could enclose hers entirely; without a second thought, he could break every one of the delicate digits that made up her hand He gradually lowered her fragile fingers and told her to go wash her pretty face.


Dinner was silent, just as usual. Louie smiled at Jolie between every few bites. He was almost finished with his plate, while Jolie had scarcely touched hers.

Jolie was too busy thinking about her dream from the night before. In it, she had found something behind the red and yellow roses planted by the sitting bench. But before she could look at it…

She woke up.

This is what she had been thinking about all day, and all through dinner.

Twelve-year-old Jolie was no dim-witted child, even though her tutors thought she was. She was very sharp with her senses, and could usually identify anything she’d seen, smelled, or even heard. (That is—if she wanted to, of course.) She could very easily tell what you were feeling from just looking into your eyes.

She looked back over at Louie and realized his lips were moving (and that his plate had already been taken away from the table.), so she paid closer attention to her hearing.

“…a boat out on the lake. How would you like that?” He smiled, and from what Jolie could see, it wasn’t any different from the others, but she offered her own grin and—guessing that Louie was asking if she wanted to go out on the lake sometime soon—agreed.

After all, you had to go through the garden in order to get to the lake.

“Alright then, after I am done with work tomorrow, you and I shall go out on the lake in a pretty little boat.” He widened his smile, only to end up making himself look like even more of a fool, if that was possible.

Jolie gave another small nod and then asked, “May I be excused from the table now, monsieur?” He curtly approved.

“Yes, yes. Away with you, it’s getting late.” It wasn’t really, the sun was only just setting, but Jolie was used to being told to get to bed this early. “Your nanny will get you up and ready in the morning.” He said as she stood up to leave.

She sighed; her nanny was a grouchy old woman whom she did not like for many reasons. The number one reason, though, was because she smelled like cats, a creature of which Jolie was not particularly fond of. She hid her disgust and nodded.

“Goodnight, monsieur.” As soon as she was out of the dining hall, she ran all the way down the main hall, up the stairs (the third from the top creaking slightly as her weight pressed against it), through the upper hall, and into the bedroom.

She hurried to dress in her nightgown and fell right asleep; hoping to find what was behind the red and yellow roses.


“JOLIE!” Jolie woke with a start, her heart pounding. In her dream she had just about seen what was really behind the red and yellow roses, and then her nanny woke her up.

The room suddenly smelled so strong of cats and Jolie nearly gagged. “Jolie, child, it’s time to be made ready for the day.” Her nanny whipped her hair around, making it look like she was trying to get rid of an obnoxious bee, which just kept flying around the old woman’s head. Jolie knew she was trying to be beautiful… but it wasn’t working.

“Well, are you just going to lay there?” She asked and smiled, showing her teeth—two of which had something that looked quite a lot like meat stuck in between them. Jolie sat up in bed with her arms over her blankets, staring—even though she knew it was impolite—at her nanny.

“Damn child… get out of your bed this instant!” She looked fierce like a lioness about to pounce on a herd of caribou. Jolie swung her legs to the opposite end of the bed then stood up, her bare feet absorbing the cold from mahogany wood floor making her shiver. “Così bambino insolent! Non posso credere che gli prenda la cura giorno--giorno-e questo è che cosa ottengo nel ritorno! Humph, quando ero I giovane mai avrebbe effettuato un tal atto davanti mio nanny!” She exclaimed, running off into Italian, a language in which Jolies tutor had not yet taught. [“Such an insolent child! I cannot believe I take care of you day-to-day—and this is what I get in return! Humph, when I was young I never would have performed such an act in front of my nanny”]

“Parlez-moi dans ma propre langue, pas vôtre!” Jolie sneered back at her. Her nanny immediately quit rambling on in Italian, looking as if she were about to murder the girl. [“Speak to me in my own language, not yours!”]

“Fine,” She muttered as she glowered at Jolie, tossing her a beige dress and left the room to go order someone else around. “I was so close… I know I was.” Jolie whispered to herself once she was alone in the room.

She paced the room and sat back down on her bed, setting the dress aside. She grabbed the book she had been strung on for quite some time and read from it.

Jolie had read Vanity Fair many, many times before, and she knew that this wouldn’t be the last time she would. The leather ends of the book were beginning to wear down from usage Jolie noticed for not the first time as she set the piece down gently next to her oil lamp.

She dressed quickly into the extravagant gown that she not needed nor wanted. She thought of how ridiculous it was to wear such a thing. The dress had to have cost Louie a fortune, but why would someone spend oh so much on a wardrobe?

She pondered this as she made her way down to the kitchen where her nanny was ordering around the maids to make Jolie some breakfast—another ridiculous action.

“Emmaline!” The old woman shouted out the open window at a woman carrying laundry into across the lawn. The noise startled her, making her drop the basket.

Jolie’s nanny growled and ordered Emmaline to collect all the laundry and do it again, for now it was covered in dirt—yet again, ridiculous.

“And as soon as you’re done with that,” Jolie rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Come in and tidy up Jolies’ room!” Nanny turned back to Jolie. “Breakfast will be served in the dining hall—as it has always been—wait in there, miss, the kitchen’s no place for a beauty like you.” Yet again, another false smile, to Jolie, it seemed that the world of adults was made of only fake smiles.

Jolie sat through breakfast silent—as usual. Tedious hours passed as Jolie waited for the time to come when Louie would be home. She studied with her tutors—as usual. They complained again and again of how impossible it was to teach this dimwitted child, Nanny only laughed and agreed, and then walked off to go harass someone else.

Finally, after lunch had been served, Louie arrived home. Against all her wishes, she had to wait another hour to set out. Nanny made quite the fuss on Jolie’s dress not being “proper” for a boat outing. In the end, Nanny won and Jolie changed into an obnoxious blue dress, paired along with a white sun hat, a white parasol, and white, elbow length gloves.

Her hair was down beneath the hat and it flowed smoothly down her back. Nanny made her walk the hall four times before she was walking “gracefully enough” to not look like a “common girl”.

When she finally made it to the kitchen, Louie stood there, glaring at his pocket watch. “Väl äger rum det om tid…” She heard him mumble in some strange language with an odd accent. [“Well it’s about time…” –Spanish]

He looked up at Jolie and actually smiled one of his few, real smiles. “You look very striking, let us just hope all the people on the lake notice, it would be a shame if they didn’t get to absorb your beauty, too.” Jolie fidgeted with her hands, she didn’t like being pointed out from a crowd, and from the sounds of it, Louie would be boasting louder than ever out on the lake.

“What do you say we take a carriage straight to the dock, I don’t want to waste any precious time making our way through the garden when we could be out on the lake watching the sunset?” His tone actually was curious so Jolie gave him her answer.

“But, monsieur, I would very much like it so if we were to go out by way of the garden. The flowers have quite the aroma this time of year.” She tried to use proper grammar and words that sounded smart to see if that could possibly persuade Louie.
Louie let his act slip for a moment, and a moment just, but there was enough time for Jolie to realize that he had been faking happiness and glee all along. “I suppose… if that’s really what you want, Cheri.” Jolie nodded, making sure this was the absolute thing she wanted. She was curious as to what was behind the red and yellow roses… but then she realized; how was she going to make Louie let her look behind the roses? “A brief glance I suppose… yes, that will work.” Jolie whispered to herself. Louie cocked his head to the side, confused as to why Jolie was talking amongst herself.

“Excuse me, monsieur, but the boat is ready at the docks, will you be taking the carriage?” The stable boy asked. He was tall, much older than Jolie. He was thin, but good at his job. “No, Jolie and I wish to have a stroll through the garden—but when the sun falls, send it to the docks.” The boy nodded and left the kitchen through the back door and out to the stable.

“Well, my darling, shall we leave?” Jolie nodded vigorously; two days was too long of a wait for a smart young girl to be curious.

Jolie had not lied when she said that the flowers had quite the aroma at this time of year. With autumn just around the corner, the flowers, hedges, and trees were all at their fullest.

Louie walked quickly, “sneezing” after every few breaths. He claimed to be allergic, but Jolie didn’t buy it. She figured Louie only said that because of how often she took walks through the garden during Louie’s parties. Jolie spotted the narcissuses, realizing how close they were to the garden bench.

They weaved their way through massive hedges, finally making their way pass the bench. Jolie was already behind Louie, ignoring his boasting of the days’ rehearsal, so when they reached the roses she found it easy to peek behind them…

But nothing was there.