The truth will set you free…{Chauv}

[HELENE DE ROCHAMBEAU]

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[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: Chauv word-count: 442 [/style][style=width: 200; height: 15; background-color: DDBBFF;]notes: Yo Dad! May have borrowed a line xD

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Helene carefully scooped a few ladles of soup from the large bowl that was bubbling over a fire, into a small wooden one. The camp had its own routine that was followed strictly. Prayers and school for the children started the morning, followed with checking the crops, fishing and laundry. Then the people stopped for lunch. Then at lunchtime the people would gather at one of the two ‘kitchens’ for food, before continuing with any work that needed doing. Helene often helped; she enjoyed tending to the plants, finding it almost soothing as she scattered seeds and pulled weeds. She didn’t mind getting her hands dirty, unlike a number of the other girls in the camp. She didn’t really have any friends in the camp; she had no one to talk to accept Henri, who was often preoccupied with other things. She only had her friend Claudette, whom she still managed to write to now and again, although doing so was becoming increasingly difficult.

She was lonely, she wouldn’t deny that, but she knew it wouldn’t be for long, before she and Henri could finally be together. Perhaps her loneliness was an explanation as to why she felt such compassion for the older prisoner, who at this very moment was tied up in the pigsty. He had taken the time to speak with her, even if it were in anger. She sensed there was something more, which lay beneath the surface of his scowling face and she was curious as to what it was.

Taking the bowl and spoon with her she made her way towards the pigsty, Henri and the troops had left early that morning on some mission, he had refused to give her the finer details and she couldn’t help feeling anxious about their return. She knew there was something different about today’s mission to the others. She was determined to not worry about it, Henri would return to her by nightfall, she was sure of it.

Helene paused for a moment observing the pigsty. It would seem the other prisoner had been moved, for only the older one remained. She was glad, the burly looking prisoner made her feel uncomfortable, he had looked at her in such an odd way she had felt very small in his presence. She approached the enclosure, climbing the fencing easily she perched on the edge of fence holding the bowl in her lap. ‘If I gave you something to eat, I think your contempt for my weakness would be much stronger than your gratitude.’ She said, but nevertheless she held the spoon out for him, waiting for his response. Would his hunger override his pride? She wondered.

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[PAUL CHAUVELIN]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 380px; border-left: 20px solid #595454; background-image:url(http://i12.photobucket.com/albums/a223/Achillea/texture_zpsaf0bcd80.jpg); padding-left: 10px; padding-bottom: 20px;] Paul-François [style=text-align: right]DARKNESS, DARKNESS LONG AND LONESOME, IS THE DAY THAT BRINGS ME HERE I HAVE FELT THE EDGE OF SADNESS I HAVE KNOWN THE DEPTHS OF FEAR DARKNESS, DARKNESS BE MY BLANKET, COVER ME WITH ENDLESS NIGHT TAKE AWAY THIS PAIN OF KNOWING FILL THIS EMPTINESS WITH LIGHT

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chauvelin

Chauvelin had not been having a pleasant time. He'd spent an uncomfortable afternoon the previous day, as the two so-called leaders of the camp talked themselves into making the attempt on Essonne. The old spymaster wasn't close enough to hear, of course, but he'd dealt with young republicans often enough to picture it just fine. The dickering, dithering, and debating had gone on well into the evening, but eventually had come to the conclusion that was inevitable - the simple fact was they couldn't afford not to try.

The night had been chilly, but not intolerably so, and his bonds had been loosened a little when he and Gus had been removed from the sty just before moonrise and allowed to relieve themselves. The sergeant had been taken somewhere else at that point, which was both mildly annoying and worrisome. He didn't see why, if they were going to execute the big man, they wouldn't try to intimidate him by doing it in front of him, and more likely they just planned to work on them separately, but he had no way to tell. All he could do was hope Gustave was all right.

When the girl spoke to him, the old spymaster turned his head to look at her out of the corner of his eye, feeling the sharp twinges of pain the movement brought his bruised and stiffened muscles. Through all of it, they'd been given no shortage of blows, but neither food nor water. Well, Chauvelin himself hadn't -- for all he knew Desjardins was being wined and dined in style somewhere just out of sight -- and the soup she held smelled good. He wondered if the offer was genuine, or just a form of torture. He doubted it was the latter. The boys had finally ridden off some time ago, so whatever it was was her initiative, and she didn't seem the type.

"So perceptive for one so young," he answered, raising his eyebrows at her. "Is it my gratitude you're looking to buy? Or my pride you're looking to break?"

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TAG -- Helene
NOTES – might have borrowed a line or two myself, baby girl
lyrics from DARKNESS, DARKNESS by ROBERT PLANT
made by ANYA of caution 2.0

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[HELENE DE ROCHAMBEAU]

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[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: Chauv word-count: 364 [/style][style=width: 200; height: 15; background-color: DDBBFF;]notes: Sorry I took so long to respond!

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Helene sighed, placing the bowl in her lap she observed the man curiously. There was something about him that sparked her curiosity, and she couldn’t help but feel safe in his presence despite the danger he presented to the camp. She was however, not foolish enough to lower her guard and was mighty curious as to why he was of such interest to Henri. She didn’t break her gaze with him, sensing only too well that he might perceive that as a sign of weakness or submission. She after all was not the one tied to a pigsty, rotting in filth.

Helene was battling with her anxiety; she felt as if she were on a precipice and at any moment could fall into its depths. How she wished Henri had spoken to her before he had left, the very subtext of his actions made her nervous. There was more to today than she was being told and she resented it greatly. Spending time with this stranger was passing the fleeting moments, but her mind kept drifting off to Henri and the troops, praying that they would return safely.

She frowned at his words as she responded, ‘I would have thought your pride was already broken’ she said, referring to his current situation, living amongst the pigs. She paused for a moment before continuing, ‘of course if you’re not hungry then there are plenty more mouths to feed here’ she shrugged.

‘What are you doing here in Fontainbleau?’ she demanded. The local village was small and rarely got visitors, there wasn’t much around and she was curious as to what a man like him would be doing so close to camp. She feared he would prove a threat to the camp and to Henri. That her instincts that were telling her he was no threat were wrong, and in fact he would prove to be the biggest danger of all. There were so many lives at stake now in camp. Not just soldiers, but women and children whose lives were threatened in the village and were now forced to reside here. Things were looking bleak for the people and it broke her heart to see it. Her only hope was Henri.

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[PAUL CHAUVELIN]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 380px; border-left: 20px solid #595454; background-image:url(http://i12.photobucket.com/albums/a223/Achillea/texture_zpsaf0bcd80.jpg); padding-left: 10px; padding-bottom: 20px;] Paul-François [style=text-align: right]DARKNESS, DARKNESS LONG AND LONESOME, IS THE DAY THAT BRINGS ME HERE I HAVE FELT THE EDGE OF SADNESS I HAVE KNOWN THE DEPTHS OF FEAR DARKNESS, DARKNESS BE MY BLANKET, COVER ME WITH ENDLESS NIGHT TAKE AWAY THIS PAIN OF KNOWING FILL THIS EMPTINESS WITH LIGHT

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chauvelin

The girl's -- Helene, he'd heard her called -- resemblance to Lisette still bothered Chauvelin. It woke old memories and made him wonder about his half-phantom angel lover of so long ago. What had become of her? And if this girl was the daughter she appeared to be, did her mother approve of this living in the woods with a bunch of tattered rebels? Lisette had been bold, it's true, or she never would have been in the caves, let alone approached a strange man there, but it had been the old spymaster's experience that parents adopted 'do as I say, not as I did' policies toward their children. He had many questions, and his curiosity was an itch he was good at scratching.

Chauvelin barked a short laugh, the bitter amusement of the cynic who expects the worst in people and is rarely disappointed. "I was passing through," he said. "Sent to deliver some papers to Essonne. That's what I do, I take things from one place to another." He sighed ruefully, rolling his eyes heavenward. "I'm not supposed to stop along the way, but when I saw a man's horse shot from beneath him by brigands, I took pity on him and brought him up behind me on my own mount. Whereupon he turned out to be one of those brigands himself and put a knife to my throat by way of thanks." His smile took on a sardonic edge. "Apparently your friends' notions of gratitude are just as twisted as all their other 'noble ideals,'" he added.

"As for my pride," the old spymaster said. "You'll have to do better than this." He tilted his head toward the normal inhabitants of the pen, which had turned to watch Helene in hopes she'd brought them more slops. "Pigs are very intelligent creatures, and far better company than that you've been keeping." Watching her himself out of the corner of his eye, he said with mocking pensiveness, "M'sieu Henri is very dashing I suppose, if you like that sort of thing. I doubt your parents do," he added, a twinkle in his eye adding an edge to the disapproving cluck of his tongue. "Is it requited, then? Your passion for that jackass? M'sieu Henri is looking forward to dying."

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TAG -- Helene
NOTES – a bit more borrowing of ingredients, but with some spice added
lyrics from DARKNESS, DARKNESS by ROBERT PLANT
made by ANYA of caution 2.0

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[HELENE DE ROCHAMBEAU]

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[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: Chauv word-count: 386 [/style][style=width: 200; height: 15; background-color: DDBBFF;]notes: Yo Dad! May have borrowed a line xD

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Helene sat silently as the familiar feeling of dread and sadness crept upon her heart as she recalled the reason for her conversation with this man. He was a distraction…a distraction from the pain and fear that clung to her heart as she worried for Henri’s safety. She prayed he would come back to her safely. Her eyes flickered shut for a short moment as the prayer fell silently from her lips. She didn’t have long to dwell on such thoughts as a low laugh from the captor interrupted her.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously at his words, she was certain he was more than just a messenger his entire presence screamed leader. There was certainly far more to it than that. She chose to ignore his words regarding the troop’s behaviour, she had no doubt it was entirely needed for their survival, and so she would not question it. She looked back down at the bowl awkwardly, despite her choosing to ignore the troop’s behaviour it still saddened her to think they were compromising themselves morally in order to ensure their survival. Helene’s mind drifted for a moment as she thought about Essonne, of course the King would be sending informants there, everyone knew Essonnes main source of income was the rather large gunpowder factory there…

She disliked the jibes the man was making towards the camp, it was clearly an attack to get a reaction from her…perhaps he was trying to gain information. Frowning she placed the bowl roughly on the fence, a few slops of soup fell over the sides as she stood up. Drawing her skirt up slightly as she climbing back over the fence away from the captor, she turned to look at him ‘God is on our side!’ she said loudly leaning over the fence to impress her certainty.

Her eyes refused to meet his as he spoke about Henri, to hear Henri’s name come from someone else’s lips made her worries seem even more real. ‘We are not afraid to die!’ she said passionately ‘…my mother dead and thanks to your men she can’t even rest in peace! Madmosellie Damiens has made sure of that!’ she spat, the anger she felt towards the woman who barbarically ran the village while the king as his government did nothing was over whelming.

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[PAUL CHAUVELIN]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 380px; border-left: 20px solid #595454; background-image:url(http://i12.photobucket.com/albums/a223/Achillea/texture_zpsaf0bcd80.jpg); padding-left: 10px; padding-bottom: 20px;] Paul-François [style=text-align: right]DARKNESS, DARKNESS LONG AND LONESOME, IS THE DAY THAT BRINGS ME HERE I HAVE FELT THE EDGE OF SADNESS I HAVE KNOWN THE DEPTHS OF FEAR DARKNESS, DARKNESS BE MY BLANKET, COVER ME WITH ENDLESS NIGHT TAKE AWAY THIS PAIN OF KNOWING FILL THIS EMPTINESS WITH LIGHT

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chauvelin

Chauvelin could see that he'd rattled the girl, and badly. Rattling people was rather a speciality of his, and he usually took pride in his work. He did somewhat this time, too, though there was the downside of it being rather like taking candy from a baby -- and the fact it was going to cost him the soup. The savory aroma rising from the bowl came to him even over the stench of the pigs, and it smelled good to his empty stomach. He was looking forward to some of Agnes' roast chicken when he got home.

But that was later. At the moment, he was calf deep in the mud of a pigsty, amusing himself baiting a republican firebrand while he waited for a ferrety assassin to slip in and rescue him. He really was getting too old for this.

"Not afraid to die," the old spymaster repeated, the sardonic mockery back in his voice. "Then you're even more of a child than you look." Affecting a thoughtful air, he added, "It's passing strange, you know. It's the young, with so many years to lose who are so eager to throw them all away. One can be extremely fond of truth, without being so in love with martyrdom." It was a paraphrase of Voltaire, whose scathingly pithy commentary the old spymaster had long admired and enjoyed.

Tilting his head, Chauvelin regarded Helene with wry amusement. "And just what, pray tell, am I supposed to have done about Damiens? I certainly don't command the wench. Indeed, as you might have noticed, I have but a single man under my orders." He made a show of looking around for the absent Gustave. "Or is that had?"

Shaking his head, he returned his gaze to her. "I had nothing to do with your mother's death," he said. "And what of your father? Does your living in the woods with M'sieu Henri have his blessing? Perhaps you're here against his will."

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TAG -- Helene
NOTES – the canon dialog is just too epic to leave out
lyrics from DARKNESS, DARKNESS by ROBERT PLANT
made by ANYA of caution 2.0

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[HELENE DE ROCHAMBEAU]

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[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: Chauv word-count: 366 [/style][style=width: 200; height: 15; background-color: DDBBFF;]notes: got to love canon quotes

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Helene stood close to the edge of the fence, she was free to walk away at any moment she desired, she held power over this man and if she had been inclined, she could have had him flogged for the taunting words he said to her. Helene had never been a violent person, so the thought barely crossed her mind as she huffed at his impertinence. Helene had spent a great part of her energy’s telling herself she did not fear death. If death was to be her fate she would embrace it and wait for Henri at the golden gates. They would be together in this life or the next.

The man continued to quote Voltaire, Helene’s forehead creased at she frowned at him ‘You seem to find taking other men’s words as your own most satisfying. We must all be prepared to die for what we believe in. It seems to be the only choice in this world, with people like you trampling over the poor and the helpless.’ She said furiously, placing her hands on her hips as she stared the man down.

‘You both work for the same man, she should not be allowed to govern a village, her love for blood is most disconcerting.’ Helene continued. At the mention of her father, Helene dropped her gaze, the familiar feeling of guilt crept back inside of her. She could only hope that he was safe and well in England, but she knew he would worry for her safety, still thinking she was in the convent, he would likely send someone to bring her back to him. She had to remain true to her heart, she was sure if she had gone to England she would have died of a broken heart. She just was not strong enough.

‘I have nothing to say to you’ Helene said sharply, cutting his questions about her father off, she didn’t like to think on the subject at all. She paused for a moment before asking ‘what message were you delivering?’ she demanded to know.

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[PAUL CHAUVELIN]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 380px; border-left: 20px solid #595454; background-image:url(http://i12.photobucket.com/albums/a223/Achillea/texture_zpsaf0bcd80.jpg); padding-left: 10px; padding-bottom: 20px;] Paul-François [style=text-align: right]DARKNESS, DARKNESS LONG AND LONESOME, IS THE DAY THAT BRINGS ME HERE I HAVE FELT THE EDGE OF SADNESS I HAVE KNOWN THE DEPTHS OF FEAR DARKNESS, DARKNESS BE MY BLANKET, COVER ME WITH ENDLESS NIGHT TAKE AWAY THIS PAIN OF KNOWING FILL THIS EMPTINESS WITH LIGHT

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chauvelin

"Well now," Chauvelin said dryly, ignoring her question as totally as she'd ignored his own, "it appears just the contrary -- you've had rather a lot to say to me thus far. It's being answered back you don't much care for -- no matter whose words are used." His smile's edge sharpened. "Perhaps you would be better off finding some small children to harangue and abuse instead. They shouldn't present much trouble to a mighty 'champion of the helpless and downtrodden' such as yourself. And since your hands aren't tied, they probably won't even throw rocks at you."

Making a show of looking around for likely young targets, the old spymaster scanned the camp. The bulk of the armed men had gone off with Henri and his lieutenant. A few remained to guard the camp, but they would be no match for what was coming. He also hoped to locate the girl who was the main target of this whole operation. Or, failing that, at least figure out where they were holding Gustave. He spotted neither, however, and returned his gaze to his current 'prey.'

"They were rather quick to reach for those stones, though," Chauvelin said mock-thoughtfully. "No doubt following the fine example of your M'sieu Henri and his friends. You keep rather strange company for someone who claims to be disconcerted by blood. Or is it perfectly all right as long as you don't have to see it?"

While not a duelist, Chauvelin had been raised a member of the noblesse d'epee, and was skilled with a sword. He was more skilled with words, however, and he used them like a blade. He pricked and bled his opponents, weakening them, but more importantly angering and distracting them before moving in to thrust from an unexpected direction. "Is that why you don't want to talk about your father? Because he'd be ashamed? Or because he'd approve?"

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TAG -- Helene
NOTES – running out of canon words ...
lyrics from DARKNESS, DARKNESS by ROBERT PLANT
made by ANYA of caution 2.0

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[HELENE DE ROCHAMBEAU]

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[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: Chauv word-count: 412 [/style][style=width: 200; height: 15; background-color: DDBBFF;]notes: almost there!

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Helene glared, she had had just about enough of this tiresome buffoon, she showed him compassion and was met with sharp worlds and accusations. She was tired, she hadn’t realised how tired until she let her shoulders slump for a short moment, the stress of the day was taking its toll on her. Pulling herself tall she looked down on the man, the way she’d seen older women of her standing look down upon the servants, she wasn’t going to stand there and take any more of his nonsense.

If there was one thing Helene disliked it was hearing bad words said about her beloved Henri, who in her eyes could do no wrong. Blood would always be spilt during the birth of a revolution, she wished it wouldn’t be, but it was inevitable. Ultimately, she knew this was the right path, equality and freedom.

‘God is on our side!’ she replied starkly, God believed what they were doing was the right thing, and he would insure their mission would be successful, she was certain of it. Helene had never met anyone with such a talent for words, and found herself floundering to find a way to protect herself from his prods and pokes. He was looking for a weakness and in the few short moments they had spent together he had found her main one.

She did not care, she had nothing to hide from this stranger and she didn’t fear anything he might do. Not that he had much opportunity tied in with the pigs. His questioning about her father was prodding a sore spot, she hurt about her adoptive father and was angered greatly by the thought of her birth father, who had left her mother alone and with child.

‘My adoptive father holds pride in doing what is right!’ she spat back at him, ‘my father…my real father’ she said hesitantly, ‘left my mother before she was born, Valentin Gautier his name was’ she added almost wistfully, ‘I very much doubt he cares about what I do!’ she said, her temper suddenly flaring again, ‘I have wonderful memories how everyone in the village called my mother a whore!’ she said. The reputation of her mother had dictated much of how Helene had been treated by the villagers, only now because Henri was head of the camp did people still their whispers, but she knew what they were saying about her being unmarried and residing in the camp without family.

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[PAUL CHAUVELIN]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 380px; border-left: 20px solid #595454; background-image:url(http://i12.photobucket.com/albums/a223/Achillea/texture_zpsaf0bcd80.jpg); padding-left: 10px; padding-bottom: 20px;] Paul-François [style=text-align: right]DARKNESS, DARKNESS LONG AND LONESOME, IS THE DAY THAT BRINGS ME HERE I HAVE FELT THE EDGE OF SADNESS I HAVE KNOWN THE DEPTHS OF FEAR DARKNESS, DARKNESS BE MY BLANKET, COVER ME WITH ENDLESS NIGHT TAKE AWAY THIS PAIN OF KNOWING FILL THIS EMPTINESS WITH LIGHT

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chauvelin

Chauvelin wasn't a noted orator like many of the men he'd known. He couldn't turn a crowd of strangers into a mob ready to follow him to the gates of hell with a few brilliantly crafted sentences. He wasn't so gifted with words that he could argue complicated points of law or illuminate abstruse philosophy. Still, he'd learned diplomacy and debate from Talleyrand, a master of both, and he was very rarely struck speechless.

At Helene's revelation, though, he couldn't have spoken even if he could have found the words to say. His throat was suddenly so tight he could barely breathe, and the pain in his heart was so great he wondered for a moment if he was falling victim to the apoplexy that had taken his father. It was as if a wave of emotion had crashed over him and pulled him under, spinning him around and about until he couldn't find the way to the surface.

There could be no mistake. 'Valentin Gauthier' was an alias he'd used once and only once, and with only one person. Accomplished as the old spymaster was at not displaying his emotions, he had to look away, the shock and grief for an instant naked on his face. Lisette. What had he done? He hadn't known, but then he hadn't really tried to know. She'd saved his life and given him her body, and in return he'd abandoned her to a life of shame. Abandoned her and his -- their -- daughter.

What had he done, he thought again, but this time it wasn't the realization of an old wrong, it was the realization of a new one about to happen. Arranging the destruction of the Sacred Heart had been all in a day's work, purely an intellectual exercise. The troops had been instructed to take as many alive as they could, but he'd known from the beginning that there would be considerable bloodshed, and it hadn't bothered him overmuch.

Until now. Now his own flesh and blood was involved. His and Lisette's. He could never tell her how sorry he was, could never make up for he hurt he had caused her. Still, she'd clearly loved Helene, despite the fact the girl would have been a brand and a constant reminder of her shame, and Chauvelin would be damned if he'd be the instrument of her destruction.

Blinking back the tears that burned behind his eyes, the old spymaster drew in his breath to warn her, hoping his voice would be steady enough to speak. But even as he opened his mouth, the crack of muskets came from among the trees, announcing that it was already too late.

"Helene," he whispered urgently, marveling inwardly at how those two syllables had changed in just a few moments time. "Listen. Stay close to me."

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TAG -- Helene
NOTES – running out of canon words ...
lyrics from DARKNESS, DARKNESS by ROBERT PLANT
made by ANYA of caution 2.0

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[HELENE DE ROCHAMBEAU]

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Helene had never had an out of body experience before today; it was as if she were watching herself from very far away. Several things happened at once that caused her body and soul to go into over drive. The first thing she noticed was Chauvelin’s strange strangled expression that appeared and disappeared so quickly, Helene questioned whether it had really happened, or if it was a figment of her imagination. Before Helene could take another breath to continue voicing her thoughts regarding Chauvelins prying questions, gunshots rang through the forest.

Birds took off out of the trees and several cries from the camp echoed around as Helene’s breath caught in her throat. Panicked, she turned to see where the noise had come from, as several of the troops mounted horses and galloped off in the direction of the shots. Helene’s first thought was of Henri, had he and his men met trouble coming home. Was he lying in the road somewhere dying? For all Helene knew he very well could be, and her thoughts were with him the moment the first gunshot sounded.

Helene did not register Chauvelins words for a moment, her mind was reeling she was overwhelmed by the situation. It was his tone that caught her attention and she turned to him, astounded by his words, she spoke ‘What have you done?’ she asked in an accusing manner. It was clear he knew something she did not. More screams echoed through the camp, bewildered she stepped forward her heart crying out to those in trouble. She prayed whatever the danger was, her people would be safe.

Angered she turned back to Chauvelin, ‘what have you done!?’ she repeated, her voice rising an octave as she looked at him for answers. Something was going drastically wrong and it sent chills all the way down Helene’s spine. She did not know what to do, all she wanted was to find Henri. So long as she was with him she could happily face anything fate sent her way.

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[PAUL CHAUVELIN]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 380px; border-left: 20px solid #595454; background-image:url(http://i12.photobucket.com/albums/a223/Achillea/texture_zpsaf0bcd80.jpg); padding-left: 10px; padding-bottom: 20px;] Paul-François [style=text-align: right]DARKNESS, DARKNESS LONG AND LONESOME, IS THE DAY THAT BRINGS ME HERE I HAVE FELT THE EDGE OF SADNESS I HAVE KNOWN THE DEPTHS OF FEAR DARKNESS, DARKNESS BE MY BLANKET, COVER ME WITH ENDLESS NIGHT TAKE AWAY THIS PAIN OF KNOWING FILL THIS EMPTINESS WITH LIGHT

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chauvelin

Chauvelin quietly gritted his teeth in frustration. She wasn't listening to him. Of course she wasn't listening. She was young. The young never listened.

He shifted his weight to brace himself, then the muscles in his back and shoulders tensed and bulged beneath his loose once-white shirt as he pitted his strength against his bonds. But they were stronger and well tied, and all his effort gained him was the pain of them biting into his wrists.

Resisting the urge to snarl outright, the old spymaster forced himself back to at least a semblance of calm stillness. Anger didn't help. At worst it turned you into someone else's puppet, at best it clouded your thinking and made for bad choices. Right now he needed his thinking clear, if he was to have any hope of finding the right words, the right tone, the right everything to get Helene to listen.

He had to keep her close. He could only protect her if she stayed close. If she went running off through the camp, shouting and attracting attention -- or, worse, grabbed up a weapon and tried to fight -- she would draw fire. The image that conjured in his mind threatened to overthrow his fragile calm, and he pushed it away.

"Helene," Chauvelin said, infusing his voice with every bit of gentle reassurance he could, "it will be fine. Just. Stay. Close."

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TAG -- Helene
NOTES – need to find some way to get everyone to Essone
lyrics from DARKNESS, DARKNESS by ROBERT PLANT
made by ANYA of caution 2.0

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[SIR PERCIVAL BLAKENEY]

[style=font-family: times; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #989898; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;]567 WORDS FOR EVERYONE hope this is ok, if anyone wants me to change anything please say <3 Also i hope its ok i say Andrews lurking too cause i cant imagine him not being there! PERCY [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #6d6d6d;] [style=padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; height: 475px; overflow: auto; color: #1e1e1e;] Percy was still sulking, Margot had got her way and weedled herself into the mission. They had travelled for almost a day and Percy had only spoken to bark orders as they travelled down the uneven road to Barbizon. He had a close friend who lived there, her home was nestled on the outskirts of the village and he had already sent word that he and Andrew would be arriving. Of course they were both now accompanied by Margot. The mission was a simple one. Find the girl and send her back to her father who was now residing in England. The girl had been left in a convent, safe for now from the harm of the woman who ran the village, but if she was found she would certainly face her death. Upon arriving he had been informed that the girl had in fact left the convent, and was living in the heart of the forest that bordered the village. There a rebel group had been formed with the intent of storming Paris and forcing a change in the political system. The mission then had become more urgent, Percy knew every minute the girl was involved with such a group; her life would be at greater risk. There were whisperings of a battle; the group would be exterminated by the government, before they had their chance at glory. He’d mounted his horse, still accompanied by Margot and Andrew. Having a woman in the group would make their presence seem less threatening to the Sacred Heart and so he had not argued she did not attend. In wonderful Sir Percy fashion he was dressed in a full length coat, crisp clean cravat and top hat, exuding the very essence of an English Aristocrat. Just the right look for entering a republican rebel camp? Perhaps not, but it proved he was from the same background as the Lady Helene De Rochambeau. They travelled quickly, well as quickly as the small path allowed. At one point they had to dismount in order to get through the path that seemed to not have been travelled on much. They avoided the main roads through the forest, hoping to avoid the thieves and look out troops that plagued the paths. As they neared the camp several shots rang out, and Percy paused restraining his horse as he peered through the trees onto the camp. ‘Damn!’ he said loudly, as he sharp blue eyes spotted the government troops that were now beginning to round up members of the camp. He didn’t know what the young girl looked like, and the situation had suddenly become much more desperate. That’s when he spotted the sly fox Chauvelin tied to a fence as if he were a hog waiting for the slaughter. Percy stifled a smug smile, as he observed how dirty he appeared, it was obvious he’d been there for a few days. ‘Stay here’ he whispered to Margot and Andrew as he mounted the horse. Lud! He couldn’t resist making his presence known to Chauvelin and perhaps he held some information about the girl. Leaning forward he kicked the horse on as it broke into a gallop and crossed the clearing at high speed. More shots sounded and Percy slid himself to the left side of the horse using it as a shield to avoid the fire that was raining down around the camp. [/style]

TABLE BY CALIFORNIA DREAMING @ CAUTION 2.0

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Marguerite had known that the journey would be difficult. She hadn't come along to have a romantic journey with her husband, but she had wanted to be with him; she knew that this trip would be dangerous, but she still felt safer with Percy than on her own in the streets of Paris where the St-Cyr woman might be looking for her – in fact, was likely looking for her. And looking to kill.

She had made herself useful though, going into the convent with the intention of finding Helene, since it was not as though Andrew or Percy could enter the convent, being men. At least, she would have been useful if Helene had actually been in the convent. When she had gotten there, the young woman was already gone. Gone to join a bunch of rebels out in the country! Marguerite could understand, but she just hoped that the girl could be persuaded to leave them and get to safety. She would do her best to be convincing.

While Percy took the lead in riding towards the camp, Margo's horse followed close behind. She was careful to keep her seat on the sometimes-uneven path, and she kept alert, knowing that there could be soldiers or spies everywhere. The government was going against the republican rebels, she supposed. This was proved well enough when she heard shots. Her horse balked, muscles straining beneath its fine coat, and she held to its reins tightly, tensing. “Percy,” she said nervously, her face going white. “Percy! No!” she shrieked, not caring if she was heard. She glanced at Andrew, who put a hand on her arm, telling her not to go. She couldn't watch her husband gallop headlong into the fray. “Andrew, we have to do something,” she insisted. Her horse was getting antsy. She glanced down, seeing a small stump nearby, and she led her horse up to it before using the stump to mount. Curse this sidesaddle!

From her vantage point, she could see Percy riding towards Chauvelin, her breath catching in her throat with every shot she heard fired. Though she was mounted, she didn't move yet. She glanced to Andrew, who was calmly firing return shots at the uniforms he saw shooting at Percy.

[HELENE DE ROCHAMBEAU]

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He was avoiding her question and all around her gunshots were sounding, the fear was apparent on her face, but she was not fearful for herself, but for her fellow camps members, who at this very moment were being rounded up like cattle. Helene had never seen anyone die before, but she watched now as one Sacred Heart man struck out at one of the soldiers. She watched with horror as the solider pulled out a gun and shot the man down.

She tore her eyes away from the scene and looked back at Chauvelin, ‘Fine!?!’ she said hysterically, angered by his calmness while at this very moment the people she cared about where being killed. ‘What’s fine about this?’ she demanded, her eyes scanning the clearing for a way out, they rested on one of the horses that was tied up nearby. It wasn’t fully saddled but its bridle and reins were still on, that was all she would need to get away and find Henri, if only she knew where he was.

She looked back at Chauv determination filling her eyes, ‘tell me where Henri is’ she demanded moving closer to him, ‘I know you know something, tell me where he is now!’ she said again, furiously, ‘I’ll find him with or without your help, but if you tell me I will find him faster’ she said quickly, slighty calmer than before. Her eyes watching the group of soldiers tackling the few troops Henri had left behind. She paused for a moment before adding ‘please’, she was desperate and would do anything to warn Henri.

Without her warning, he would find himself ambushed and she could not bear to think what the government would do to him for being the leader of this rebel group. Their lives were crumbling around her and Helene could not stand by and let this man ‘save’ her while she knew Henri was at risk. She would always follow him, he knew that. But today she needed to save him.

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