Post by SIR PERCIVAL BLAKENEY on Feb 14, 2013 17:57:41 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, background: #477963; width:15px; height:550px; padding:0px;] | [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, background: #2e2e2e; width:430px; height:550px; padding:0px;] I hear the words you want to say Come meet my eyes one moment more Our eyes are different than before TAGGED: FINISHED THREAD? Percy felt a burst of promise shoot through him. This could finally be it, the piece of information that would deny or confirm his suspicions. He hoped the message would hold some information of dire importance. He had mixed feelings about returning to France. It was true; he had been growing restless in England. Sir Percy had been beginning to bore him. With no major reason to keep the façade up; he had begun to drift away from many of the major parties he was often invited to. He preferred to spend his time with those close to him. Old members of the league, and of course his wife. He would be lying if he claimed he didn’t get a thrill from Pimpernel work. The cause was extremely important to him; it disgusted him that innocent people had been executed. The prejudice that followed the aristocrats was very unhinging. France had judged them on their class and not on their actions. This was an unforgivable crime in Percy’s eyes. Percy remembered the moment he had thought his own wife had betrayed the St-Cyr’s. There was not a word in the English dictionary, that could describe how utterly wretched he felt the moment he was told. The entire family had been guillotined and he had been powerless to stop it. Percy’s heart had bled to know it was his own wife that had denounced them. They had barely said ‘I do’, when the troublesome news had reached his ears. Life from that moment on had been utterly unbearable. To love someone was a wonderful thing, but to love someone and feel utterly heartbroken by their actions was impossible. Percy had retreated, hid behind his mask of indifference; suddenly he had found himself wearing his ‘Percy’ mask all the time. Even for his wife. There was no sanctuary for him, and nothing that could console him. His only form of solace was the league and the knowledge that he could still save lives. Perhaps by doing so he would redeem his wife’s actions. Percy felt Max slip the note into his hand and a satisfied smile crossed his face. He could be holding the peace of information that could confirm his suspicions about the political state of France. He feared what the note could hold, but felt elated at the same time. The thought of the Pimpernel finally riding again was a pleasant one. Once more unto the breech… Percy climbed into the carriage, carefully slipping the note into the inside of his coat. How relieved he had felt when he discovered the truth about the St-Cyr’s and the truth about the woman he loved. Percy looked over at Margo and slipped his hand into hers as the carriage slowly moved off toward Paris, marking the return of the Scarlet Pimpernel. <3 |
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