At Dusk (Tag: Helene)

[HENRI ROQUEFEUIL-BLANQUEFORT]

The forest was silent at nightfall, and in that moment he was transported back to his childhood and the thousands of meanings this land had held for him since that time. The wind was soft, warm as spring had entrenched itself in the French countryside. Henri closed his eyes for a moment, pretending the world around him would fall away and strip him down to what he had been so many years ago...

A moment of weakness. Why should he long for that world? Broken, fallen, a collection of all the things that could make a life short and nasty. And if giving his life, sacrificing his very soul meant the destruction of all that was and the birth of a new world, a new life for others... then he was bound, both by honor and ethics, to make that sacrifice. Even if it hurt him, standing in silence among the quickly darkening trees.

A thousand years could pass and the forest would still be familiar to him. As a boy it had been the battlefield for countless imaginary wars; now the only difference was that the blood was real and the exhaustion far more acute. His imagination had so little to do with the actual reality that, had his principles and ideals been weaker, he might have given up. Gone home.

But this now was home.

It was getting late, and he would have to be up with the dawn as always. He'd never minded such early mornings, but as they dragged on to be united with late nights they wore on him, knitting with the stresses of command and any internal anxiety that beset him to fray his nerves and paint dark circles under his eyes. There were days now when he scarcely recognized himself in the mirror as he shaved.

And yet, Helene...

It was a miracle that she had found him again, he was almost certain of that. Who but God could have willed such a thing to happen and made it so? She, despite all trials, remained the spark of beauty and something far, far more that she had been even from their first days as friends in these same woods...

He whispered a prayer for her protection, and listened to the silence of the forest until it was broken by the sound of footsteps. His hand went to the pistol on his belt, and he turned toward the noise.

[HELENE DE ROCHAMBEAU]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, background-color:#f4f4f4; width:400px; padding:8px; border: 8px solid #9b6464;] WE MUST ALL BE PREPARED TO DIE FOR WHATWE BELIEVE IN It had not been a difficult choice for Helene. She had known from the moment her father had told her they were leaving for England, that she would be unable to leave her beloved France behind. The country was embedded into her very soul. Without the open countryside and the freedom it promised her, she knew she would wither and die. Just like her mother. Then there was Henri, her best friend and lover. How could she leave him? Leave him and leave her heart behind? Just to save herself from the persecutions that now followed her family. Helene was not afraid of the punishments French law held for her, she was afraid of losing Henri. It hadn’t been difficult for Helene to feign illness and convince her father of leaving her in the safety of the convent. She had spent days pacing the convent grounds deciding if she’d made the right choice, but her heart sang for Henri and the forests. One night she saddled up her horse and took off into the forest in search of the rebel camp and Henri. Helene was sat in her tent reminiscing about the past. She missed her father greatly; Helene’s one regret was not explaining her actions to a man who had raised her. He was not her real father, but he was the only father she had ever known and she loved him dearly. She could only hope he would understand her actions and forgive her for them. It was surprisingly warm and Helene found herself outside of her tent, taking in the cool breeze that swept through the camp. All was quiet apart from the odd sound from the pigsty and horses. She walked quietly past Henri’s tent, pausing at the entrance to peak in. She didn’t want to wake him if he were sleeping; lord knew he needed his sleep. The dark circles that encompassed his eyes had not gone unnoticed by her. She wished she could do something to help him, but it seemed nothing could be of comfort to him of late. It only took a moment for her to confirm he was not there, perhaps taking his troubles elsewhere in the forest. Just like how they both did when they were mere children, playing among the trees. Helene was sure that’s where she would find him. Picking up the skirt of her dress she trudged through the mud towards the trees, her path lit by the pale moonlight. She froze suddenly, as the glint of a pistol caught Helene’s eyes and a voice from the shadows rang out at her. Her heart beat quickened, as she stood fixed to the spot, until her brain registered the voice. It was Henri’s. ‘Henri?’ she said quietly, turning to face the figure in the darkness ‘I thought I’d find you here, I could always find you among the trees.’ She said softly as her eyes found the lonely figure. 'What are you doing out so late?' tagged !

[/b]Henriwords ![/b] 489
notes ![/b]<3 sorry if this doesnt flow well, tis super late here [/color][/div]

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[HENRI ROQUEFEUIL-BLANQUEFORT]

Henri felt his body instantly relax at the sound of her voice. No threat at all, just Helene, her voice as pleasant as the light wind that disheveled his hair. Hers, he thought, only ever looked the better for being displaced by the wind...

“Helene?” He couldn't help but smile, instantly slipping the pistol back into its place on his belt. He reached out a hand to help her on the uneven ground, but felt a disconcerting twinge of detachment made him feel like he was reaching for a figure from a dream. He blinked, swallowing hard and hoping for the feeling to dissipate.

Perhaps it was only that he still couldn't believe, even after all the time she had been here, that she would follow him. Perhaps it was only fatigue that made him feel like it was strange at all, after all... practically every novel he had held in his boyhood hands told him that the heroine of almost every story showed her bravery in how she was willing to follow the man she loved...

“I couldn't sleep,” he answered softly. It was true; although the stress exhausted him and drove him into the ground, it kept his mind active and his body tense. It was impossible to get comfortable on the same camp bed that he'd been able to sleep in soundly for so long before... “But what brings you out here?”

He felt a sudden and almost irrational fear for her safety here, just beyond the edge of the encampment. His muscles tensed again, but he knew it was pointless. They were alone. He had felt safe enough himself only a moment before, and he could protect her... would willingly protect her from any threat that might crawl from the shadows of the trees around them.

He knew that, despite his sudden concern for her, she probably felt no fear at all. After all, it was only a forest at night, and he heard no sign of marauding enemies. He forced himself to relax again. It was their forest, there was nothing here to fear...

He had met her in the forest, and despite any notions he might have had about a woman's pastimes and favorite places, he had learned years ago that the forest was Helene's element. Whether she had come deliberately to look for him or simply because she, too, couldn't sleep, her words were true. They always had been able to find one another out here.

[HELENE DE ROCHAMBEAU]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, background-color:#f4f4f4; width:400px; padding:8px; border: 8px solid #9b6464;] WE MUST ALL BE PREPARED TO DIE FOR WHATWE BELIEVE IN Helene relaxed as Henri placed his pistol back on his belt. She had always been uncomfortable around weapons, but she understood the necessity, especially in their current situation. Helene certainly was not the violent type, she preferred to go about things in a peaceful manner, but she had learnt through the Sacred Heart that force was sometimes necessary. The wind picked up, blowing her loose hair strands across her face. Swiping them away she smiled at him, as he reached out to help her, she took his hand until her feet found the flat forest floor. Helene was very perceptive when it came to Henri; it was most likely down to the hours they had spent lurking in the shadows of the forest. She could sense there was something bothering him, and who could blame him? He was carrying a lot on his shoulders. Helene nodded, she had thought as much and it worried her. She was afraid, scared of the thought that Henri would be hurt as a result of the mission. She knew the mission was of extreme importance, but it seemed now that they were so far in, there was nothing else but the cause. She was worried his tired head and heart would slow him down...put him in danger. A part of her wanted to take his hand and just run. Run through the forests away from the fear and danger, into their own world of tranquillity, but she knew this couldn’t be so. ‘I was looking for you’ Helene replied quietly, not wanting to break the serenity of their surroundings, ‘you weren’t in your tent…’ gesturing to their surroundings she added ‘…of course I knew I’d find you here.’ Helene always felt comfortable hidden among the trees, it was one of the reasons she knew she would be fine leaving her home and joining Henri here. She’d never been one for finery, although she did miss some of her home comforts. ‘Henri’ she said reaching in the darkness for his hand once more, ‘what’s wrong? You’ve changed since I’ve come here, I feel as if…I can’t reach you.’ Her heart picked up pace as she asked a question she’d been worrying about for a long time. She would move heaven and earth to be with Henri, but sometimes she feared he didn’t carry the same affections as she did. The cause was so very important to him. So important that he seemed willing to risk everything. tagged !

[/b]Henriwords ![/b] 415
notes ![/b]<3 [/color][/div]

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[HENRI ROQUEFEUIL-BLANQUEFORT]

The touch of her fingers in his hand gave Henri an almost imperceptible thrill, a spark that ran through him and made him feel for that one instant truly alive, washing away for a moment the strange detachment that had settled into him. She was real, and he was real, and both of them were at that moment alive and together. The same as they had ever been.

He held onto her hand for a moment longer than was really necessary, enjoying the touch. The things he could not say aloud, was afraid even admitting to himself would wound his devotion to his cause, the sacrifices he was willing to make...Helene, I would gladly hold your hand forever...

Silence. He couldn't allow his voice to form the words. Wasn't that the model he was to follow, the ideal on which he must pattern himself? The cause had to become before all... There was no other option. He was almost disgusted with himself, with the part of his soul that wanted to fly away from all of this and take her with him. You're weak tonight, Henri... Watch yourself.

Her words caught him off guard, nicking the side of his conscience even as her voice momentarily soothed his feelings. He needed rest, he knew it---perhaps it was just fatigue that drove him away from her. Away from friendship, from love... Wasn't this supposed to be a struggle for freedom, not a prison of itself? He'd never imagined command to be like this.

Sacrifice yourself. Sacrifice everything, if you must. It would be worth it in the end. Reminding himself of that would push him through the night, and with daylight it would be easier again. Somehow the darkness had a way of toying with his emotions, evoking feelings he neither desired nor enjoyed.

“Things are becoming very serious here.” This, too, was true—though he felt that Helene knew that. Even if it answered the question she voiced, it wasn't the question she truly asked. He sighed softly, closing his eyes for a moment. His voice came out stronger than he intended. “But it's not the Sacred Heart you're asking about, is it?”

He realized an instant later that he'd used a tone and words a shade too close to what he might have with a subordinate, one of the Sacred Heart's fighting men. Not the gentleness he wanted her to feel from him, not the love he hoped she could sense. He blinked again, turning his head away quickly before reaching hesitantly for her hand again. How could she still reach out for him when he was like this?

Henri loved her all the more for it.

[HELENE DE ROCHAMBEAU]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, background-color:#f4f4f4; width:400px; padding:8px; border: 8px solid #9b6464;] WE MUST ALL BE PREPARED TO DIE FOR WHATWE BELIEVE IN The tensions that had been building between the two, seemed to spark; perhaps Helene felt it more as her body tensed, the tell-tale stress wrinkle across her forehead appearing as she listened to Henri’s words. As a child she held few worries, and those that she did hold were easily lost once she entered the forest. The forest had always been her realm, hers and Henri’s. Yet now the forest was their prison, in which there was no escape. They were trapped by their ideals, by the greater cause. Helene wondered if things had been different, if Henri and she would be married. Or would he have followed his parents’ wishes? Was their relationship merely a product of the rebellion? Helene couldn’t bring herself to believe any of her doubts. She had loved Henri long before now. No matter what, they were both here now, together and safe, their futures could still be changed. Helene didn’t need Henri to tell her how serious the situation for the sacred heart was. She heard the rumours that skittered around camp; the recent swarm had set off a new wave of nightmares for Helene. The Kings army, raiding the camp…people running everywhere, Helene desperately trying to get to Henri, but she couldn’t move fast. Her feet felt like lead as she tried with all her might to reach him, as he was surrounded by soldiers and executed before her very eyes. She barely had time to scream, when she was faced with the barrel of a gun…that’s where she always woke up in a cold sweat. She could never sleep after those dreams. Helene frowned, his tone was harsh and brass, as though he were sending an order to his troops. He never used to speak to her like that, but the lines between the Henri she knew, and Henri the leader of the sacred heart, seemed to be blurring. She would always love them both, but she missed her Henri. ‘Don’t talk to me as if I were one of your foot soldiers!’ she said briskly, her voice rising an octave as she desperately tried to find her Henri among his surly words. ‘You never used to be like this, you can talk to me Henri.’ She said passionately, ‘do you think it will frighten me?’ she asked. Helene often suspected Henri tried to hide things from her, and she often wondered if he was trying to protect her, but he couldn’t protect her. Whatever happened to him would inadvertently happen to her. The only comfort, was the fact his hand still held hers, and she clung to it as if her life depended on it. tagged !

[/b]Henriwords ![/b] 425
notes ![/b]<3 [/color][/div]

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[HENRI ROQUEFEUIL-BLANQUEFORT]

Henri recoiled at her words, the physical flinch far slighter than the plunge his heart took. He'd hurt her... she was his Helene, the girl he had fallen in love with, the young woman he still loved. How could he hurt her? He told himself that the stern voice she had responded to wasn't really him, but that had become something between a truth and a lie. It was him, but perhaps he was no longer himself—and the thought that she might sense this terrified him.

What if she decided the man he had become wasn't a person she could love, much less be in love with? He would have to let her go, if only out of his own love for her—but the thought was too terrible. Without her, the Cause would be all that was left to him. There would be no future beyond the hope for martyrdom.

And maybe, he felt as if his heart were fluttering, maybe they would meet again at Heaven's gate. He, the martyr who had died for a cause—and she, the one he had loved. If it came to that, if it happened that she could no longer tolerate him... that would have to become his only hope.

It was not the future he wanted. It wasn't even the future he imagined, in those moments when he still managed to dream of a future in the way he once had.

Would he even be able to make that sacrifice, her for his Cause? Both were sacred to him, and though he had thought once that he had made the choice... she had returned to him. Unexpectedly, and in that moment any doubt that God was on his side had been washed away. To make the decision a second time would be a senseless division of his heart.

“I'm sorry.” His voice was softer this time, though he was certain the tension in his chest had leaked into his voice. This wasn't the conversation he had thought to have with her. How could he account for himself, what could he tell her that she didn't already know? “I didn't mean it that way...”

He exhaled from another deep breath, trying to settle his conscience and keep his voice steady. He didn't want her to hear the weakness he felt, to sense his fear of himself. To protect her he had to remain strong, however much his spirit trembled. That her hand remained in his helped his courage, formed a last barricade against the weakness he felt in himself tonight.

“...I love you, Helene. You know that's true...” He took another nervous breath, bit his lip for a moment in a boyish gesture separated from the commander's tone he had used earlier by a few years and what, despite his youth, still felt like a lifetime. “It will always be true. The rest shouldn't matter.”

And yet he knew it did matter. It changed him, it forced him to make decisions he dreaded. It undermined his courage, forbade him from letting that fear show, drove him forward with a reckless devotion to his ideals. It ruined his sleep, wore him down, inspired him, caused his mind to race...

[HELENE DE ROCHAMBEAU]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, background-color:#f4f4f4; width:400px; padding:8px; border: 8px solid #9b6464;] WE MUST ALL BE PREPARED TO DIE FOR WHATWE BELIEVE IN Anxious, would not be a strong enough word to describe how Helene felt, as she waited with baited breath for Henri to speak. The only noises around the two that broke the silence were the sounds of the forest. The odd night bird crying out in the darkness, the high pitched squeal of a hunted animal…sometimes Helene felt like such a creature. A hunted animal. It was common knowledge that The Lady Helene de Rochambeau and her father The Marquis de Rochambeau had been denounced as traitors to France by Mademoiselle Damiens. A personal vendetta, mixed with her distaste for the Sacred Heart. She clung to his hand, scared to bridge the small gap between them, but wanting to all the same. A part of her wished she could wipe away the words she had said only a moment ago. To pretend they had never been uttered, but Helene couldn’t hide her worries any longer. She had never been very good at locking things away, which was sometimes a blessing, but often a curse. There were times when Helene pondered what they were really fighting for. Questioning her very soul and everything she believed in. When it came down to it, the only thing Helene could not question was her belief in Henri, she would follow him anywhere. Which not long ago, she had proved by leaving her father a finding her way to the camps hidden deep in the French forest. Helene’s heart lifted as Henri atoned for his words; it was as if her heart had broken free of the chains she had bound around them for a short moment. Henri was sorry he had hurt her and that was all that mattered, it showed he still loved her, despite the fact all his energies were being put into the mission. It was hard, loving someone who would do anything and everything for a cause, but Helene loved him even more as a result of it. She admired his passion and noble heart. She felt as if she could fly, Henri loved her, he loved her. That meant more than anything; she would die a happy woman knowing that Henri had loved her, even if it was just a tiny bit. It was as if he had made a transformation right before her very eyes. One moment he was Henri the leader of the Sacred Heart, the next back to the boy she knew. How she had missed that boy, her hand tightened around his as a stray tear of happiness escaped her. She was so relived, and hurried to respond to his words, ‘Henri it doesn’t matter, I will always love you! No matter what’ she said passionately, ‘I just miss you, I know the mission is the most important thing, I know that…but sometimes I think the only thing I really believe in is you.’ She said, her words echoing her heart. tagged !

[/b]Henriwords ![/b] 486
notes ![/b]Hope this reads ok, very tired tonight, but wanted to get this up for you <3 [/color][/div]

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[HENRI ROQUEFEUIL-BLANQUEFORT]

The change in Helene's demeanor soothed him. Some weight that had been on him lifted, though he also became again aware of the fatigue that had long since settled over him. Sometimes it seemed as if he was running on energy that didn't truly belong to him, was instead derived from some combination of stress and excitement and, perhaps, sheer determination.

It concerned him, really. Though things had been slowly intensifying for the Sacred Heart for some time now, he knew he could expect the situation to become more serious and, he had no doubt, more violent before they would find out whether success awaited them. He believed it did, but he was no prophet. He understood that well enough.

Henri pushed those thoughts aside. There would be time for them later—lying sleepless in bed again, or else in the morning. He would prefer the latter, he thought, but for now—for now the important thing was Helene. He could see the expression on her face even in the darkness, and it filled him with a kind of happiness he rarely experienced anymore.

Bliss. This was what he dreamed of when he imagined what it might be like to marry her, and part of him told him to propose there on the spot. The more rational part of his mind told him not to, that the time wasn't anywhere near right even if the place might be. And for all practical purposes they were engaged anyway; no one in the camp, as far as he knew, was ignorant of their attachment to one another.

He frowned, only slightly, at her last statement. If he was all she believed in, would that mean she had given up on the things that he believed used to offer them both inspiration? Could that be true? He hoped it wasn't, and yet the prospect frightened him a little. Devotion was good... but despite it all, he didn't think he would ever be able to bring himself to accept putting her in danger if she wasn't invested in it. After all, as much as he believed in this dream of a republic, he didn't want Helene to suffer for it.

Henri pulled her toward himself, very gently. The gesture was one that have been made to comfort her, but he hoped even more to comfort himself. “I miss you, too...” his voice was still far softer than its earlier tone. “I think we'll have to make some move soon, and if that happens... we can all pray this will be done by the end of summer.” He paused again for a moment, studying her face in the darkness. Part of him still couldn't imagine a life after all of this, not with any clarity. “You've never regretted coming here, have you?”

[HELENE DE ROCHAMBEAU]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, background-color:#f4f4f4; width:400px; padding:8px; border: 8px solid #9b6464;] WE MUST ALL BE PREPARED TO DIE FOR WHATWE BELIEVE IN If Helene had the power to stop time, she would have done so now, before fate raised its heavy claw and swept away everything the two young lovers knew. How delicate life was, one choice could be fatal to their future. Looking around her she thought it was strange how the forest didn’t seem to change, things would come and go with the seasons, but the same trees still stood tall and strong. As tall and strong as they had stood when Helene and Henri and been children. It was as if the forest floor was slowly giving way beneath them, betraying them to fates cruel hand. The more the two tried to cling onto the past, the further they seemed to fall. Helene was not oblivious to the rumblings around camp. She knew that they were headed towards something big. Helene let him pulled her toward him, comforted by their closeness, although sensing there was more beneath the surface of his words. She paused for a moment, clinging to him desperately; wishing that he hadn’t said those words that suggested their fate would fall sooner than expected. If he were going for Paris then she would go too, there was no chance he was leaving her behind to wait for news to see if he were dead or alive. Oh no, Helene could not bare that thought. She would rather go with him, for if he were to be killed in action she would rather throw herself in front of a stray bullet, than go on without him. She took a deep breath and pulled back from him, her eyes fierce and her words filled with all the passion of the world. ‘Of course I do not regret it Henri!’ she said strongly, ‘do you think I could have left for England, not knowing what might have become of you, my love?’ she asked, searching his face for any sign of shared passion. ‘Henri, I’m coming with you when you leave’ she said firmly, ‘I won’t be any bother and you could use me, who else is going to tend to the wounded men?’ she asked. Helene held a small, but useful skill in herbology, she collected many plants from around the forest, plants which helped with small ailments and wounds. She might not be a great doctor, but her skills could help, especially with pain relief. ‘You can’t leave me behind Henri, I would go mad with grieve and follow you. You know I will! I found you here and I will find you in Paris, so let me come.’ She demanded, throwing herself once more toward Henri desperate not to be left behind. tagged !

[/b]Henriwords ![/b] 446
notes ![/b] <3 [/color][/div]

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[HENRI ROQUEFEUIL-BLANQUEFORT]

At that moment, Henri felt with a pricking clarity the strange web in which he had tangled himself by taking up this cause. There were days in which he was no fewer than three men: the commander of the Sacred Heart, brave and devoted to his cause to the exclusion of all else; the man in love with Helene, willing to go to the edge of the earth and then throw himself off if it would protect her, but preferring to simply be at her side; the vicomte Roquefeuil-Blanquefort, a mask he could wear that would let him get the material goods required for either life.

The ferocity in her eyes and the passion of her words was enough to inspire or to terrify, a mirror onto his own feelings for this hope of revolution. A revolution... the point wasn't to destroy the aristocracy as people, it wasn't to make the rivers of France run red with blood. He knew that was what people like the Chouannerie expected. That was even what his father had told him would come of his voracious reading of Rousseau in the years before the old vicomte's death. He had asked him, once he had found out about Helene and Rousseau alike, whether Henri was so determined to undermine every advantage God might have tried to bestow upon him.

I have never tried to undermine God. He did not regret what he had been born, clearly God's plan had been there in that. There were advantages to his birth, fair or not—but they could be used to the benefit of the Cause. He didn't regret what he had become, either. But where was any of it going? The keenest awareness of his own uncertainty flowed through the cracks in that carefully cultivated armor that had come with command as Helene drew away from him. In that moment he wanted, desperately, more than anything, to be only one man--and that the one who simply loved her.

He allowed himself a smile at her words. It had wrenched his heart when he'd thought she was gone; he would have followed her to England had he not had his responsibilities in and to France, but those responsibilities had given him no choice. He hadn't known the intensity of her devotion to him then, either. It would be a more difficult decision now.

He knew to believe her. She would follow him to Paris and, he had no doubt, into eternity as well. He wanted forbid her from it, to tell her that it was absolutely not her place and dangerous besides—but it enchanted him. It frightened him, for her sake and his own. He didn't want to face himself without her, should she be killed. He didn't want to face her absence, either.

“I know.” His voice was still soft. “It's dangerous, but even if I order you to stay...” He knew she would follow. She would do whatever she had to in order to follow him. He wrapped his arms around her as she threw herself toward him again. Logically, he didn't like the idea of her following him. Emotionally, he was in love with it and with her. “I will still order you to stay.” He tried to bring the timbre of command back into his voice, but it was gone. He knew the order was pointless.

[HELENE DE ROCHAMBEAU]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, background-color:#f4f4f4; width:400px; padding:8px; border: 8px solid #9b6464;] WE MUST ALL BE PREPARED TO DIE FOR WHATWE BELIEVE IN Helene often wondered what her life would have been like, if she had not snuck out one day and ventured into the forest, if she had never met Henri. She had no doubt, she would be caged up somewhere. Perhaps married off to some gentleman, that wanted a wife who didn’t speak unless spoken to. Heck! Helene had worked hard to reach the age she was without her father trying to match her to someone, but it wasn’t hard to dissuade him. He loved her so much, the thought of losing her was difficult for him, and so she had played on it, hoping the day would come when Henri would finally ask him to marry her. Of course, things changed…and before she knew it, she had followed her wild heart and was living in the camps. She had never become fully accustomed to her lavish lifestyle, so living in the camps wasn’t such a huge step…apart from the cold nights of course. It was the fear that she struggled with. Fear grasped her heart so often these days, every moment Henri was not within the camp she was filled with dread. Was today going to be the day she lost him? She was so scared of the nearing revolution, she clung to the days they had now with all her heart. Savouring every small moment, but she knew she must be brave. She would be brave when the time came, brave like her beloved Henri, she knew she should not fear death. If Henri were to die, she would welcome death with open arms, and find him at heavens gates, where they would remain eternally together, safe from the tyranny of the human race. She was so determined in her decision to not be left behind, she found herself grinding her teeth, as his arms encased her. She buried her head against his chest for a moment, listening to the sound of his heart beating, and for one perfect moment she felt nothing but serenity. She sighed at his words, tired of the resistance he insisted on keeping up, to keep her away…to keep her safe. ‘You know very well your orders won’t stop me.’ She said firmly, pushing away slightly to look him right in the eyes to ensure he got the full intensity of her words. ‘I will follow you Henri, I’ll run, swim or fly if I have to, nothing will stop me from finding you, so don’t you dare leave me behind!’ her mind was made up, and it would certainly take more than orders for her to remain behind now. tagged !

[/b]Henriwords ![/b] 429
notes ![/b] <3 [/color][/div]

this lovely template was made by Arro from Caution 2.0 and features lyrics belonging to the oh so amazing Joshua Radin. please leave all of this credit stuff in tact and leave a link for Miss Roro here if you are going to be using this anywhere. Thank you, loves!

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[HENRI ROQUEFEUIL-BLANQUEFORT]

Part of Henri wanted to ask her to marry him, there in the forest where they had met. He was sure that someday he would—but tonight, he was afraid. He could sense the weakness in himself, as he had been able from the time she had come to him, and he did not want to make a mistake. It would be no mistake to marry her... But they had no priest in the forest—something he disliked and would prefer to correct—and it would be dangerous to find one elsewhere.

And what if she were to decide one day, unexpectedly, that she didn't like the man he'd become? He didn't want to trap her. The time wasn't right for children, either, and they would be almost unavoidable once married. Once they had their republic he would welcome the prospect, but for now it was entirely inadvisable. It would be better to wait. I think.

Standing in silence, with Helene in his arms, he felt that he would like very much to stay exactly where they were forever.

The moment was over as quickly as it had begun. He released her as she pushed away from him, but only slowly. Meeting her eyes, there was something there that told him, more definitively than her words, that he really did not control her. It was almost a relief—there was so much in his life that had become his direct responsibility. It wore on him, and made him feel painfully distant from the carefree days these woods had once represented to him.

“I know,” he answered simply when she told him that she would follow. “I know. And I do love you, Helene. But it terrifies me, what might happen if you follow me.”

To admit that fear felt like the final crack in the armor he had built up. Of course it would be restored by the time he got back the main encampment, but for now it was gone. He reached for her hand, feeling as vulnerable as he had since throwing himself into this fight.

For that one moment, at least, it seemed that she was the stronger one. His emotions were in disarray; he wanted to smile at her bravery, to cry for his own fear, to run away into the forest, to slip immediately back into his now more accustomed role. More than anything, he wanted to embrace her again—but that felt like an admission of weakness that he did not want to make. He should be able to protect her, not come to her for comfort.

He felt like a small boy again, or even like the young man who had first fallen in love. Vulnerable, a little frightened, a bit excited, unable to completely understand his own emotions.

[HELENE DE ROCHAMBEAU]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, background-color:#f4f4f4; width:400px; padding:8px; border: 8px solid #9b6464;] WE MUST ALL BE PREPARED TO DIE FOR WHATWE BELIEVE IN There were so many forces trying to keep the two apart, Helene often wondered if the fates were trying to send them a message. Perhaps they were destined to always fight for their love, but Helene kept her faith and followed her heart. She belonged with Henri. She often thought of her father when she found herself worrying over the Sacred Heart. She was relieved he was safe in England, but there was this overwhelming feeling of guilt that would creep upon her, when she thought of how she deceived him. She knew she had made the right choice, but she did miss her father dearly. Helene was proud of Henri; he remained so strong and determined, ready to face any battle in order to fight for the cause. He was the noblest man she knew and she admired his strength, knowing she also must be brave and strong. One day she would marry Henri, she thought determinedly, no matter how much things changed. To her he was still the boy she met in the forest. He was her best friend, confidant and lover. Helene sighed, ‘after all the things we gone through, you still think I need protecting don’t you?’ she said gently, endeared by his words and tenderness. She let him take her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. ‘Whatever you face, just know I face it too. You are not alone Henri’ she said, keeping her gaze with his. She could sense he was opening up to her, those high walls he had up in order to do his duty, were finally crumbling. Those walls often kept her out also, but it seemed tonight he was willing to accept her presence in this dangerous mission. ‘You must rest, my love’ she said, her hand reaching to stroke his face, ‘If things were to go wrong…I do not fear death, not if it means I’ll be by your side.’ She said pausing before adding, ‘when I say you will never leave me behind. I mean it.’ If living meant living without Henri, she would happily embrace death, despite the fact she feared it. tagged !

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notes ![/b] nawww Henri! I dont know how much longer we wanna pan this thread out for? Any more ideas? If not we could move on to other plots <3 [/color][/div]

this lovely template was made by Arro from Caution 2.0 and features lyrics belonging to the oh so amazing Joshua Radin. please leave all of this credit stuff in tact and leave a link for Miss Roro here if you are going to be using this anywhere. Thank you, loves!

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[HENRI ROQUEFEUIL-BLANQUEFORT]

Helene's words soothed him, and Henri felt almost that she protected him. “And I thank God that I am not alone,” he answered softly. “I will always feel that I must protect you. It's simply part of loving you.” Whether that was true for anyone else, Henri did not know. But he could not imagine loving her without also feeling that he must protect her.

He bit his lip, thoughtful for a moment, but closed his eyes as her fingers reached to stroke his face. Her fingers were soft on his skin, and he breathed the moment in for, in his estimation of the world, it was precious. They both knew that any moment might be among their last, he supposed, but perhaps that should only intensify ones like this. If only I could be so confident in my lack of fear.

In the moment of action, he was. Fear was often present, but he tried not to let it dictate his actions. Certainly not his commands. “I admire your bravery, Helene.” He reached out to touch her face as well. He wanted to kiss her, but something within him made him hesitate. Perhaps in love he was a coward that he could not be in war. If this is war.

“I would prefer that you stay here, in safety. You know that. But I know just as well that I can't control you.” He met her eyes, his expression betraying his apprehension. “I've never wanted to control you, though... only to protect you.” He took another breath. “I would never forgive myself if you were hurt because of some action I took.” He was afraid, in that moment, to even mention death.

Rest... he certainly needed it, though he was finding more solace in simply being with her than he had found on the hard camp bed in his tent. A different kind of rest, but he told himself he needed both

Gently, he raised the hand she had let him take to his lips and kissed it. "Come on. I'll walk you back to the camp."

(OOC: And that does just about wrap this up. Good thread!)