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Post by LUCIEN DE LA TOUR D'AZYR on Mar 8, 2013 6:59:30 GMT -5
Lieutenant Lucien de La Tour d’Azyr on an important mission to map out a blasted rebel camp in the forest – that did sound quite good, didn’t it? Lucien certainly liked the sound of it echoeing in his ears as he let his fine horse trot slowly over a dusty wood path, winding itself deeper and deeper into the heart of the forest. The Sacred Heart… how ironic. And how presumptious of a band of outlaws and blood traitors to give themselves such a high and morally correct sounding name. What did they think themselves to be? The true heart, the sacred heart of France? Or was that still somehow religiously coated? If he was honest he didn’t really care. All he cared about was finding them and give them the treatment they deserved: Imprisonment and death. In times like these, when people slowly started to get greedy and wanted to have more than they deserved, such people could become dangerous figureheads. Better to chuck the weeds before they grew.
He had been travelling to Barbizon all day yesterday, and had taken lodgings in the village to prepare his scoutings into the woods. They had offered him a small squadron for protection and help, but he had declined it proudly, pointing out that a single man was more likely to go unnoticed in a forest. He also had made sure not to announce the true reason of his visit, to not give some of the village vermin any chance to warn their brethren in the forest. No need to flush the game and spoil the hunt before time. Secrecy, as much as he disliked masking his intentions and his importance, was his best ally right now and he knew it. He would be succesful in this mission, and maybe it would accelerate his promotion to a Captain. Here’s hoping! Early in the morning he had set out into the woods then, taking a well known route first, but then started scouting. He might not be at home in a forest – seriously, why should he! – but the military accademy had been giving them enough pointers about scouting for enemies so he was sure he would find something. If not today, then surely tomorrow. He had been given all week.
Slowly the paths became more impassable and overgrown so he had to slow down his horse even more. He was armed with his faithful rapier and two pistols and thought himself to be well equipped in case trouble would arise. He was not here to kill any of the vermin for fear of chasing them away, but if he came across one… who would blame him? They had been declared outlaws. Anyone acting against the king and the current law could be killed without repercussions. Lucien smirked… a quick bullet was less satisfactory than a duel, but he doubted any of those could hold a blade right. One of the blood traitors maybe… but then how big was the chance to run across on of them alone?
Just as he thought that, he saw a movement to his left side, between the trees but close enough to the path. Drawing his rapier, he spurred his horse on, calling out: “Over there! Stop and show yourself!”
Whoever was there probably would not do him the favour, therefore Lucien prepared for a chase, his heartbeat accelerating in excitement.
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Post by HELENE DE ROCHAMBEAU on Mar 10, 2013 18:19:21 GMT -5
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Helene was determined to make herself useful to the camp. She had a small gift for herbology and had taken it upon herself to gather plants with useful properties. She had started collecting a fair amount of useful plants, and her collection was becoming quite plentiful. Of course, a lot of useful plants did not grow locally. A travelling peddler might be selling certain plants Helene desperately wanted to get her hands on, but the chances of one just passing by the camp was unlikely. As a young girl she had picked up the art, through the many books her father’s library held. She would often lug them into the forest and see if she could find the plants listed in the books. This way she learnt where the plants were most likely to grow among the trees of the forest.
Helene was wearing a plain dress; her hair tied back in a simple plait and was carrying a basket brimming with various pieces of wildlife. She had wandered a fair way from camp, but she held no concerns over her safety. She had been exploring the forest since she was a child, there was nothing hidden among the trees that she feared. With the camp being located within the forest, it might have been wise for Helene to be armed, but it never occurred to her that she might come across anyone who would wish her harm. Especially among the dense trees, the forest path was small and barely travelled upon, so she doubted she would meet anyone. How wrong she was.
Helene paused, placing her basket on the floor, she knelt down to examine a plant. It was at that moment the sound of horse hooves on the forest floor reached her hears, but it was too late. She had been seen, and Helene could see the glint of the man’s rapier as he called her to halt. She froze, like an animal that was being preyed upon. Not daring to move, but terrified of being caught by this stranger that wanted to cause her harm. As the horse came towards her, the sound of the horse picking up speed knocked some urgency into her. She threw herself down crawling among the bracken to the safety of a tree. Her heart pounding she pulled herself into a slightly hollowed out hole, hoping she wouldn’t be found.
Her heart was pounding beneath her chest as she tried to catch her breath, it was only moments later she realised she had left her basket of the ground, only a few metres from her hiding place...
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Post by LUCIEN DE LA TOUR D'AZYR on Mar 11, 2013 7:07:06 GMT -5
As soon as Lucien had called out, the shaded figure had first stirred, then darted out of sight. Typical. Why couldn’t outlaws follow the simplest of orders? Of course, if this had been the other way around, Lucien would not have stopped either. You had to give this vermin that, they were persistant and not too easy to shake. Some of them of course were cowards, only brave as long as they were not faced with true difficulties, but you sadly could find that everywhere, even amongst the military. Lucien had been faced with too many cowards in Saint-Cyr for comfort. Gladly, a nice little duel often showed to the true measure of a man.
He had spurred his horse on to get where the shadow had vanished so quickly. He could still hear the rustling of leaves and twigs as this someone tried to move away under the cover of the shrubs. Clever…
Once he was where he last had seen the movement, he got off his horse, knowing he could not very well have it push through the thick underwood in front of him. His rapier swished through the twigs and leaves in a low half-circle from one side to the other, acting much like a beater that wanted to scare up game for the hunt. Well… he was hunting, was he not? And just like a hunter, he needed to be cleverer than his prey. Which shouldn’t be too difficult. Even the smallest sound had ceased now, and so he guessed the outlaw must have hidden away somewhere close by. There were endless possibilities, but he was confident of finding this one, Even if they decided to make a wild dash for it, he would still be close enough to hunt them down.
Just then the tip of his rapier grazed against something solid, and he found a basket filled with greens, teetering against a branch on the ground, probably having been put there in haste. …but not clever enough!
Lucien stopped and listened closely, while his eyes watchfully scanned his immediate surroundings. There was no heavy breathing to be heard, but he still had a slight hunch of where his prey might have vanished too. A chuckle escaped his lips as he moved forward again, keeping his eyes fixed on a tree nearby that looked like some of his roots might have been eroded once. Vermin crawls back where it came from
“Want to play hide and seek with me, non?” he murmured, then moved to block the supposed hideout, bringing his rapier forward in the first position and securing his foothold in case the man was so desperate as to try and tackle Lucien head-on. Cornered beasts are the most dangerous ones…
He was so close now that he was probably blocking the light from the small holes entrance, and close enough to simply thrust his blade forward and injure the man. But Lucien felt in the mood for a little devilish game.
“Come out or I’ll run you through.” His voice was curt, non-nonsense, and yet there was a calculating undertone to it as well. He was almost starting to enjoy this!
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Post by HELENE DE ROCHAMBEAU on Mar 14, 2013 14:33:26 GMT -5
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Helene closed her eyes tight, wishing herself away from the very spot she stood. How she longed to be anywhere, but the place she was. Hunted, like a mere animal with no thoughts and feelings of its own. She wished she had had the sense to arm herself, but Helene had never seen the forest as a threat. The forest had protected her for so long she thought it would do so, forever. If Helene were to die now, there was no better or more fitting place to do so. It was such a beautiful place and Helene marvelled from her hiding spot at the stunning light that shone between the tree branches, glittering off the forest floor flowers. There was certainly no other place she would prefer to die, except –of course- in Henri’s arms.
Her heartbeat picked up as she heard the sound of footsteps approaching her. A cold voice echoed around the forest, sending shivers down her spine, she sensed this man would give her no mercy. Helene wiped her forehead, as she tried desperately to think of a way out. She felt all around her, but there was no other way out, apart from the way she came in. Pushing herself right back against the trunk, she could only hope the stranger would pass her by.
Helene was not to be so lucky, the hunter paused close by and approached the tree, stopping merely to threaten her as she hid within the trees depths. This was it, she thought, this could be where her journey would end. She closed her eyes and thought of Henri and her father, the only two people she had ever really loved. She would hold them both close in her heart, they would give her the courage to face whatever was lurking by the entrance to the tree.
Taking a deep breath Helene mustered the courage to move, deciding perhaps if she were to cooperate she might be spared…or at least buy herself some more time. ‘I’m coming out’ she said loudly, scrambling to pull herself from her hiding hole.
‘Honestly’ she said softly -her only hope was pretending that she was an innocent villager- ‘you can’t even venture into the forest anymore, without being threatened by…’ it was at that moment recognised the young man infront of her. ‘Lucien?’ she asked, pausing half way through her attempt at climbing out of the hollowed trunk.
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Post by LUCIEN DE LA TOUR D'AZYR on Mar 15, 2013 11:23:38 GMT -5
Lucien could feel the thrill and the tension course through his veins like a mighty drug, as he waited for the leech he had caught here to react. This could go both ways, but he was ready for both… either the man would be stupid enough to try to fight or flee, then Lucien would have to be ready to stop him, or the man would give in and hand himself to his custody. He almost didn’t know what to wish for. Submissive characters were less fun to deal with, but they also caused little hassle that would sway him from his course. If he had caught an outlaw here, and he guessed as much, since why else would they have ran away otherwise, he might get him to talk… a valuable prey he had got himself there indeed. His superiors would be pleased…
But what happened next made him blink in astonishment. The voice that came from the tree trunk, announcing their surrender was not that of a man! It was the voice of a woman! Not high and shrieky in fear perhaps, but still unmistakingly female. What on earth would a woman do here?! Had he maybe made a mistake and this was nothing but a peasant girl? But why would she then run away? Only those with a bad conscience had to flee! Her voice didn’t betray that much fear so he would take her for a general coward that would run away at the sheer sound of a man’s voice… it was all rather mysterious, a riddle he would have to solve quickly. She started to speak more, and something inside him couldn’t shake off the hunch that her voice sounded somewhat familiar to him, rhough he was sure it was nothing connected to Paris…
And then she stopped midway, showing a few parts of her body while her face was still concealed by shadows. She called his name. Not his title, not his rank… his first name! The impertinence! How would a slut running around in the forest know him by his first name and dare to call it?! It made him pause, but only for a moment, then in a flash of anger, his left hand darted forward to grab hold of the woman, pulling her out of her hiding place so he could see who he was dealing with.
The tip of his rapier dangerously close to her neck, he pushed her against the intact part of the tree and only then took a look at her. It was like he was suddenly catapulted backwards in time, into a different place, almost a different life. He didn’t believe his eyes, but there she stood, comparably ragged and dirty. Still the same defiant fire in her eyes. Helene…!
Catching himself comparably fast, his mouth only opened for a few seconds until he turned his lips into a smirk. “What a surprise indeed… Little Mademoiselle Helene. Have we been naughty again?”
His mind was telling him the logical conclusion, put together from all the facts he had seen. The basket of herbs, her plain dress, her rather un-noble attire… but he still could not bring himself to believe it. Had she sunk THAT low?!
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Post by HELENE DE ROCHAMBEAU on Mar 18, 2013 15:20:15 GMT -5
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Helene recalled her younger days when her father would visit with Lucien’s father; she would often find herself in the presence of Lucien himself. He was always there, babysitting her during these times, despite the fact she was about seventeen. It wasn’t proper for a young Lady to be wandering about unaccompanied, or so she was often told. Helene also suspected her father hoped she might find a good match in Lucien, but her heart by then already belonged to someone else. She had always disliked spending time with him, and had often wandered off the moment she had the chance. She recalled climbing the tall oak tree in the garden grounds and watching with amusement, for the best part of one morning as Lucien stalked furiously around the grounds looking for her. It was only when she could no longer supress her giggles did he find her. How she missed those carefree days, where she was so sure of her place and her future in society.
She vaguely recalled the darkness beneath his eyes as he scolded her for her behaviour, but she had pushed it to the back of her mind. It was only now as her eyes met his, did she recall the moment. It was one of the only times in her life she had questioned her own safety, but the darkness had vanished and Helene had convinced herself she had imagined it.
Helene felt all the air knocked out of her as she was roughly pulled forward, then thrust back against the trunk of the tree. She was vaguely aware of the numb pain that shot across the back of her skull as her head connected with the trunk, but she quickly forgot the pain as her eyes focused on the glint of Lucien’s rapier. She tried to catch her breath, as she stared defiantly into Lucien’s eyes.
‘Unhand me this instant Lucien!’ she demanded, struggling weakly under his firm grasp she quickly gave up. ‘This is most improper!’ she said, knowing too well the man had a knack for understanding a situation, she could only hope she could outwit him. ‘Honestly! Lower your sword, can I not even take a stroll through the forest without being accosted. What is this village coming to?’ she asked, glaring daggers at Lucien as she attempted again to free herself from his strong grasp.
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Post by LUCIEN DE LA TOUR D'AZYR on Mar 21, 2013 8:10:40 GMT -5
She had always been a brave girl, this one, often far TOO brave for his personal liking, as she just didn’t seem to graps the concept of how a noble woman should act. She probably couldn’t even spell the word submission, even though he would highly recommend it! Helene had been a wild child ever since he could remember meeting her, she had still acted like a wild child at the age of seventeen, and he doubted she had changed much. Just the fact that he had now caught her in this attire in this very forest proved him right on that aspect. For what reason she was posing as a dirty peasant girl would still have to be deemed, but Lucien was all but sure he could get it out of her… someway or another.
When Helen spoke in some indignation, commanding him to unhand her and best put away the rapier this instant, Lucien did not oblige right away. Oh, he wanted to see her sweat a little, she all but deserved to be at his mercy for a little, after all the time she had made him look the fool! Lucien was nothing if not vindictive, and since he couldn’t very well see it as compatible with his honor to challenge her to a fight, he would have to get his revenge through different means. Oh, he liked the sound of that even in his head. A slightly more devilish glint had entered his eyes, and he moved the tip of his rapier a little away from her throat, only to let it rake through her rich dark hair, putting a loose strand behind her ear with it. It didn’t only LOOK like a risky move, but he was confident of the absolute control over his blade. If she so much as twitched, however, she might soon be short of an ear.
“As I remember, you… liked it ‘improper’ in the old days”, he murmured, his tone of voice slightly suggesting. He’d like to see her squirm now alright, but he had a feeling that Helene would not quite do him the favour so readily. Well, there was nothing wrong with having a little fun first, before he delved deeper into the reasons of her being here. It had been too long since he last had had a woman so thoroughly in his grasp, and he certainly had missed the feeling of power it gave him. He would still have to watch out for any hasty reactions of course, since Helene wasn’t exactly to be called meek and feeble. Which made the challenge of course all the more… thrilling. “What this village is coming to…? Well, that is exactly what I intend to find out, my dear!” he replied, then looked her over once more. “And while we’re at it, a village only can be as good as those who preside over it. And with the Lady de Rochambeau running around like a peasant girl…”
There was more to this… he could feel it! Helene’s status would normally not have it necessary for her to run and hide, so why had she done it then? And what was it with the basket of herbs…? “Is there anything you’d like to tell me, sweet Helene?” His voice was soft like velvet, but his eyes shone as hard as steel. She would have to be very good indeed to convince him she was harmless and not having a toe out of line. But then, there were of c ourse multiple options to… convince him.
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Post by HELENE DE ROCHAMBEAU on Apr 1, 2013 10:32:00 GMT -5
[/style][style=width: 463px; height:20; background-color: #DDBBFF; float: center; background-image:url(http://i739.photobucket.com/albums/xx40/tippykazoo/Seamless/merely_cubed.png);] [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 460px; height: 480px; background-color: ededed; border-top: 10px solid #18002D; border-bottom: 10px solid #18002D;][style=width: 200; height: 15; background-color: DDBBFF;]tagged: Lucien word-count: 431 [/style][style=width: 200; height: 15; background-color: DDBBFF;]notes: Oh My! |
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Helene had never seen herself as a higher class of person. Her father had taught her to respect everyone despite their social standing, and to be grateful for her fortunate circumstances. It was her father’s love for Rousseau that had encouraged her free thinking and love for nature. Fate had tossed her into the forest, the sacred heart and into this dangerous situation. Helene could never argue with fate, she could only hope it would work in her favour and she would be able to return to Henri quickly.
She stopped struggling as she suddenly sensed a change in Lucien’s tone, the change sent shivers down her spine as she shuddered under his grasp. It took Helene a moment to register what Lucien was doing; she wasn’t well versed in the ways of the world, nor the implications that lay behind Lucien’s words. She had lived a sheltered life away from people, and rarely had come across anything that seemed untoward. Oh how she was learning now. The only other time she could recall, was when she’d ventured out into the village one day with Henri. The village people had quickly made it clear what they had thought of her mother, the word whore still echoed around her head today. A woman becoming pregnant out of wedlock had been seen as a monstrosity. It was then she understood why her father had tried to protect her, by hiding her behind the estates high walls.
A mixture of revulsion and dizziness washed over her, she had never felt more disgusting in her life and for a moment she was sure she was going to pass out. Helene De Rochambeau was no pansy and she wasn’t about to let Lucien walk all over her, despite the fact he was now threatening her in a very different way, she was still aware he held his rapier very close to her face.
‘Perhaps I never behaved as you think women should, but I can assure you Lucien I have never compromised my virtue’ she spat, squirming once more away from the letch. She pushed again, with all her force, trying to get out of his grasp. ‘There is nothing to find here dear Lucien’ she said firmly, the dear hinted with sarcasm, ‘the place is filled with thieves, if I appear as a normal peasant girl I’m less likely to be targeted. I don’t exactly want my fortune, going to a bunch of miscreants’ she said, suddenly kicking her knee up to hopefully incapacitate him for a short while. Perhaps then she could get away.
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Post by LUCIEN DE LA TOUR D'AZYR on Apr 9, 2013 15:10:26 GMT -5
He was close enough to sense the moment realization took over her and he was more than pleased to see her reaction. Oh, she tried to hide it of course, but he had made her eerie. It might gnaw on his ego that he saw so much disgust mixed in the fear in her eyes and in her words, but then she had never really liked him, just like he had seen nothing in her than a nuisance. For the threats he liked to impose on women, for the proximity and bad boy games, there needn’t be mutual consent. He loved to flirt with women, but the REAL thrill often enough came when they were reluctant. There and then he could prove his superiority to them, and to take something was so often more satisfying than to simply collect what was given freely. Oh he liked to see the fear in their eyes, and he loved a bit of a fight… just that he did get it far too little these days. Most girls answered his calls, and while that brought him a different kind of pleasure, he could not help but wish for the other too. The Marquise Sylvie understood him there, he knew that. She, too, liked to inflict pain and see others squirm, which was why any closer involvement of these two would probably end up quite… interesting. They both were what people in later times would call Sadists, but even though that term had not been applied yet, Lucien would understand it. He HAD, after all, studied the works of the Marquis de Sade and found them quite pleasing, his own father had known him personally.
Lucien chuckled darkly when she tried to defend her virtue with words. That was rich, coming from a whore’s daughter! He knew after all what was being said about Helene’s mother, Helene herself had been born out of wedlock, no matter if her father had accepted her as his daughter or not. Not that Lucien himself was a stickler to such rules, he had deflowered (and probably dishonoured) many girls without any qualms, but it was a valuable weapon to use against her. “Some might say it runs in the blood, you know”, he murmured with a mean sneer. “But of course… what would YOU know of that, Helene.” He gripped her tighter when she squirmed and slowly lowered the blade of his rapier so he could bring his own body closer to hers. “You’re not very nice to me… maybe you should rethink that.”
Helene’s reason for being out here in the attire she was in did not satisfy him, not wholly at least. There was something missing in the pattern. “Why would you even do that… collect herbs?” he asked, shaking his head, then he suddenly prompted with another question, so sharply and quickly he hoped that she would be taken by surprise. “For whom are they?” He more felt than saw the movement of her leg, and he was quick enough to escape most of it, though it still hurt. “Careful…!” he pressed out between his lips, tightening his grip on her hand again. “You don’t want to make me angry, Helene, oh no you don’t! Maybe it is time I teach you a lesson.” And with that he let go of his rapier, used his now free hand to forcefully grab her chin and brutally forced his lips on hers.
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Post by HELENE DE ROCHAMBEAU on Apr 23, 2013 4:42:32 GMT -5
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The intensity of her situation made Helene stiffen with fright; her whole body was ridged with fear as she looked at Lucien dazed. She couldn’t believe this was really happening, the morning had been pleasant and peaceful, turning into a nightmare the moment Lucien set his dark eyes on her. She felt impure under his gaze, she had never been made to feel uncomfortable in Henri’s presence and she suddenly longed for the safety in which he promised. She fought back tears of frustration as Lucien spoke, she’d be damned if he was going to see her cry.
Every word he spoke was like a violation to her body and soul. The fear of what was to soon follow gipped Helene’s heart in a stony vice as she dreaded Henri’s reaction. How would he ever be able to look at her again if he knew another man had forced himself upon her, tainting her with his actions. Her stomach churned at the thought, she let out an involuntary cry as he blocked her attempts at an escape. She ignored his question about the herbs, knowing too well he would not accept any answer she gave him. He was far past caring about the reasons behind her actions, she knew and felt that quite clearly, as he forced her against the tree.
She wanted to speak, to say something back that would cause him to pause for a short second, in that short second she would be able to escape and return back to Henri. Her mind failed her, as she struggled to make the words that came to the front of her mind. For once, Helene was utterly speechless. She had been foolish as a child, thinking she was untouchable as she hid among the trees while Lucien was meant to be watching her. Back then in the safety of her home, she had been untouchable, but she was no longer protected by her position. The world had changed dramatically, and she had been a part of that change. She had wanted that change.
His hand forcefully gripped her chin, causing the pain from her head to return under the pressure of his grip. She gasped for breath as his lips found hers. For a moment she saw nothing but stars as she fought blindly for her freedom. Henri’s face loomed in front of her and she tried desperately to break free, help me…she thought, panicked that she would never leave Lucien’s presence safely.
Opening her mouth she bit down on Lucien as hard as she could manage, her hand striking out against his head. A small gap appeared between them, just enough to allow her slender body to fall to the floor as she crawled away from him, stumbling and struggling to her feet. Her hands and dress were covered in mud, her head spinning from the events that had just occurred, the his breath still lingered unwantedly upon her lips.
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TYBALT SANS-GAUCHE
The Sacred Heart
... Seriously??!!
Posts: 10
Joined: May 28, 2013 17:57:23 GMT -5
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Post by TYBALT SANS-GAUCHE on Jul 14, 2013 17:33:16 GMT -5
Trouble was in the air. Tybalt had a nose for such things, an itching where no itching should possibly be that always came around when there was something afoot, something very unpleasant for either him or someone he knew. A doctor he once had robbed had called it phantom pain, nerves acting up and making you feel something where there was no flesh anymore to feel. Try relieving this annoying itch by scratching on metal. Yep, doesn’t work! So, the only way he could think of getting rid of this annoying feeling was by investigating the source of trouble. He had no idea where it possibly could be, but he had seen Helene, that foolish girl, leaving camp a while ago with some basket, and if that itching had something to do with HER being in trouble and he ignored it, Henri would have his head.
Not really, of course, the sapling was far from a succesful try in that direction, but Tybalt knew Henri would be completely useless, mortally wounded and in despair should anything happen to his sweetheart. Women really could be the millstones around any man’s neck! Not that he had something personal against the girl, but she was freaking distracting Henri from his hero causes! And those were dangerous at best, suicidal at worst anyway! Henri’s mind and heart were constantly at odds, he did always think of her and her safety, instead of making a sound plan that involved some risks. It was pathetic… but Tybalt had, after all, resigned to be the noble kids nanny, and so, in effect, would have to watch over Helene as well, to keep Henri sane. Great… it was really no commission he had ever aspired!
Tybalt made his way swiftly and soundlessly through the woods, following Helene’s tracks as best as he could. The itching intensified with every minute and nearly drove him up the wall, had there been any. Well, maybe it would drive him up a tree soon, instead. He was about to bang his iron hook against a tree trunk in frustration, when suddenly he heard voices. A male and a female… the female voice sounded like Helene’s pitch even from afar. But the man? Uh-oh. Was the girl maybe meeting another sweetheart? Lord, Henri would never survive it!
Sighing inwardly, Tybalt edged closer, soon finding his worries to be moot – or rather, unfortunate for a different reason. For there he could see Helene, and she was pressed against a tree trunk rather forcefully by a young man, the likes he had seen in Essonne a dime a dozen. Snotty little upstarts, those ‘daddy’s got all the money and titles’ types! Not to mention that this young rogue had his hands on Helene. That just wouldn’t do!
While he was examining the scene, the young man even had the gall to force a kiss on her. Tybalt had to salute Helene for trying her best to get away, but as she was running, he already knew it would not work out. The man let go an angry growl, something akin to bloodlust now flashing in his eyes. “You witch! You better had played nice, Helene!” he snarled, advancing slowly on the girl who still tried to crawl away. “As you remember, I am not one to be messed with. Now, it’s gonna hurt!” Certain of his imminent victory, he started forward, intent on throwing himself on her, pinning her to the ground, but before he could make more than one step, suddenly there was the cold, piercing tip of a thin blade on his neck.
“Fancy to be run through with your own knitting needle, boy?” Tybalt asked in an almost conversational, yet sarcastic tone. “One more move on the lady, and you’re history. Got it?”
The young man tensed, and Tybalt could almost feel him calculating the risk in his head. To speed up things, he gave an encouraging prod with the rapier’s tip, seeing the skin slightly split under the pressure. The boy winced, and suddenly decided that he had been here long enough. He had enough courage for one last pathetic phrase, “this is not the last time you see me!”, though Tybalt wasn’t even sure who he meant with that, then he finally legged it, and soon you could hear hoofbeats fading away. Snorting, Tybalt lowered the blade and glanced down at Helene, wordlessly.
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Post by HELENE DE ROCHAMBEAU on Jul 24, 2013 8:54:13 GMT -5
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The world surrounding Helene was spinning, no doubt the effects of hitting her head, she struggled forward among the brush, desperately trying to cling on to the earth that moved around her. She could hear Lucien nearby and the fear of the repercussions of her actions stuck her hard and fast as she began to struggle away with more desperation. His words cut through Helene like a sword, and she felt him standing over her, his fury echoed around the woods like a storm. A cry uttered from Helene’s mouth as she struggled forward her hands reaching out for the nearest weapon. They curled around a small rock and she held it tightly closing her eyes she took a moment to pray her efforts would succeed.
In the brief moment she had found the rock, she realised she and Lucien were no longer alone. The icy tones of Tybalt reverberated in her mind as she fought the urge to lose consciousness and remove herself from the awful situation entirely. It only took seconds for Lucien to leave, and she scoffed at his cowardice before she promptly threw up at Tybalt’s feet.
The past few minutes and taken Helene on a mountainous journey of emotions and fears, she had done her best to fight the inevitable, but in her heart of hearts had known she would not escape Lucien’s grasps. She had not given thought to someone finding them and coming to her rescue and for once Helene was thankful for Tybalts nosiness, something she usually found frustrating.
She looked up apologetically at Tybalt as she tried to control her body and stop herself from shaking, the shock was taking over, but Helene fought against it refusing to let her mind give in. ‘Nice day for a walk…’ she said weakly, the only response she could let her mind grasp at. She couldn’t acknowledge what had just occurred.
Her hand reached up to the sore spot upon her head, wincing she looked at the spots of blood upon her hand with surprise. It dawned on her that her unlucky encounter would send panic among the camp members, if they knew someone close the royals knew of their whereabouts it could cause them to lose faith…not to mention Henri’s reaction…
Helene looked back to Tybalt her eyes hard and determined, anger at what she’d gone through surged through her words like daggers. ‘He cannot know’.
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