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dcrewatch · 5 years

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Detective Conan Rewatch: Openings 46-50

Openings 46-50 Appreciation Post

Oh snap, time for another round of 5 openings!

Opening 46: "Everything OK!!"

Favorite screencap:

Shin’ichi: “Duck season!”

Ran: “Rabbit season!”

Comments:

Aw, cute.

Shin’ichi: “What do you mean, ‘Sherlock Holmes is stupid’, unicorn!?”

Ran: “For the last time, Shin'ichi, I AM NOT A UNICORN!”

Shin’ichi: “That thing has gotta be a unicorn horn. It’s got to be...”

Ran: “Maybe I was too harsh. It’s just...Maurice Leblanc’s characters I feel are better. ...Not that I’m partial ‘cause of my name or anything...”

Ah yes. Waffle and...crape. My favorite. =w=;;

Conan: “Yeah! Of course I’m in this opening too!”

Conan: “YOLO!”

Aww.

For those wondering what Ran’s message is: “Let’s go see the sea!” (”海を見に行こう”/”Umi o mi ni ikou”)

Man this song was catchy, and the animation was pretty cute!

Opening 47: "Countdown"

Favorite screencap:

Conan: “I mean...I knew I was a walking god of death, but come on? Explosions? Isn’t that a bit much?”

Comments:

Aw jeez. Animation staff putting me through "name that case” hell. (And this is why this post took forever.) I was able to identify 87 out of 91 pictures. Here goes:

Episode 772-773: Shin’ichi Kudo’s Aquarium Case

Episode 2: The Company President’s Daughter Kidnapping Case

Episode 763-764: Conan and Heiji, Code of Love

Episode 406-408: Conan and Heiji’s Reasoning Magic

Episode 279-280: The Hooligan’s Labyrinth

Episode 772-773: Shin’ichi Kudo’s Aquarium Case

Episode 1: The Roller Coaster Murder Case

Episode 770-771: The Tense Tea Party

Episode 425: Black Impact! The Moment the Black Organization Reaches Out

Episode 323-324: Heiji Hattori’s Desperate Situation!

Episode 11: The Moonlight Sonata Murder Case

Episode 343-344: The Convenience Store Trap

Episode 425: Black Impact! The Moment the Black Organization Reaches Out

Episode 497: The Clash of Red and Black

Episode 176-178: Reunion with the Black Organization

Episode 279-280: The Hooligan’s Labyrinth

Episode 490: Heiji Hattori vs. Shin’ichi Kudo: Deduction Battle on the Ski Slope

Episode 779: The Scarlet Prologue

Episode 48-49: The Diplomat Murder Case

Episode 2: The Company President’s Daughter Kidnapping Case

Episode 490: Heiji Hattori vs. Shin’ichi Kudo: Deduction Battle on the Ski Slope

Episode 43: Conan Edogawa Kidnapping Case

Episode 76: Conan vs. Kaitou Kid

Episode 763-764: Conan and Heiji, Code of Love

Episode 523: What She Truly Wants to Ask

Episode 2: The Company President’s Daughter Kidnapping Case

Episode 345: Confrontation with the Black Organization: Two Mysteries on a Night with a Full Moon

Episode 425: Black Impact! The Moment the Black Organization Reaches Out

Episode 836-837: The Unfriendly Girls Band

Episode 1: The Roller Coaster Murder Case

Episode 772-773: Shin’ichi Kudo’s Aquarium Case

Episode 836-837: The Unfriendly Girls Band

Episode 1: The Roller Coaster Murder Case

Episode 11: The Moonlight Sonata Murder Case

Episode 406-408: Conan and Heiji’s Reasoning Magic

Episode 830-832: The Cottage Surrounded By Zombies

Episode 652-655: The Design of Poison and Mirage

Episode 1: The Roller Coaster Murder Case

Episode 770-771: The Tense Tea Party

Episode 646-647: Deduction Showdown at the Haunted Hotel

Episode 1: The Roller Coaster Murder Case

Episode 345: Confrontation with the Black Organization: Two Mysteries on a Night with a Full Moon

Episode 307-308: On the Trail of a Silent Witness

Episode 646-647: Deduction Showdown at the Haunted Hotel

Episode 1: The Roller Coaster Murder Case

Episode 763-764: Conan and Heiji, Code of Love

Episode 11: The Moonlight Sonata Murder Case

Episode 836-837: The Unfriendly Girls Band

Episode 1: The Roller Coaster Murder Case

Episode 76: Conan vs. Kaitou Kid

Episode 457-458: Sonoko’s Red Handkerchief

Episode 827-828: Ramen So Good, It’s to Die For 2

Episode 780: The Scarlet Pursuit

Episode 575-576: The Alibi of the Black Dress

Episode 425: Black Impact! The Moment the Black Organization Reaches Out

Episode 646-647: Deduction Showdown at the Haunted Hotel

Episode 345: Confrontation with the Black Organization: Two Mysteries on a Night with a Full Moon

Episode 219: The Gathering of the Detectives! Shin’ichi Kudo vs Kaitou Kid

Episode 810-812: The Darkness of the Prefectural Police

Episode 345: Confrontation with the Black Organization: Two Mysteries on a Night with a Full Moon

Episode ??? (too lazy to continue trying to identify...)

Episode 191: The Desperate Revival ~The Black Knight~

Episode 457-458: Sonoko’s Red Handkerchief

Episode 48-49: The Diplomat Murder Case

Episode 780: The Scarlet Pursuit

Episode 2: The Company President’s Daughter Kidnapping Case

Episode 191: The Desperate Revival ~The Black Knight~

Episode 808-809: The Kamaitachi Inn

Episode 406-408: Conan and Heiji’s Reasoning Magic

Episode 222-224: And Then There Were No Mermaids

Episode 425: Black Impact! The Moment the Black Organization Reaches Out

Episode 1: The Roller Coaster Murder Case

Episode 48-49: The Diplomat Murder Case

Episode 77-78: The Distinguished Family’s Consecutive Accidental Death Case

Episode 830-832: The Cottage Surrounded By Zombies

Episode 1: The Roller Coaster Murder Case

Episode 345: Confrontation with the Black Organization: Two Mysteries on a Night with a Full Moon

Episode 222-224: And Then There Were No Mermaids

Episode 827-828: Ramen So Good, It’s to Die For 2

Episode 772-773: Shin’ichi Kudo’s Aquarium Case

Episode 286-288: Shin’ichi Kudo’s New York Case

Episode 425: Black Impact! The Moment the Black Organization Reaches Out

Episode 810-812: The Darkness of the Prefectural Police

Episode ??? (too lazy to continue trying to identify...)

Episode 581: The Red Shaking Target

Episode ??? (too lazy to continue trying to identify...)

Episode 1: The Roller Coaster Murder Case

Episode 651: Conan vs. Heiji, Deduction Battle Between the Detectives of the East and West

Well I see the animation staff is having fun with imagining how a final showdown might go.

Conan: “You can tell I mean business by how serious my face is!”

Agasa: “Don’t mind me! Just uh...not stealing books to sell on eBay...nope, no siree.”

Mitsuhiko: “I told you the forecast said rain!”

Genta: “I like to live dangerously!”

Haibara: “Sure hope my friends remembered their umbrellas...”

Kazuha: ‘I could get used to this...’

Shiratori: “You ever think we should stop standing around looking cool and go do stuff?”

Kaitou Kid: “Man I’m cool.”

Organization Member: “Whoa, that was sick!”

Ran: “Shin’ichi, help!”

Shin’ichi: “USE YOUR KARATE DAMNIT!”

Potential Rum suspects.

Conan: “Ran! Use your legs!”

Conan: “LIKE THIS!”

Ran: “Oh, right!”

Pretty interesting “what if” scenario.

Opening 48: "Timeline"

Favorite screencap:

*-Oingo Boingo’s “Weird Science” intensifies-*

Comments:

Shin’ichi: “DON’T DO DRUGS KIIIIIIIIIIIDSSS---!”

Hooray, more case identification. This time figuring out the odd translations of titles of the cases on the books in the background. Books listed are from left to right, top to bottom. Obviously too small to see in my screencaps, but if you watch the opening for yourself, you’ll see what I mean. :D;

763-764: Conan and Heiji's Code of Love

701-704: The Jet-Black Mystery Train

491-504: Clash of Red and Black

457-458: Sonoko's Red Handkerchief

425: Black Impact! The Moment the Black Organization Reaches Out

394-396: Big Adventure in the Eccentric Mansion

385-387: The Dissonance of the Stradivarius

238-239: The 3 "K"s of Osaka Case

50: The Library Murder Case

18: A June Bride Murder Case

174: The Twenty Year Old Murderous Intent: The Symphony Serial Murder Case

166-168: Tottori Spider Mansion Demon

153-154: Sonoko's Dangerous Summer Story

385-387: The Dissonance of the Stradivarius (yes, again in the same shot)

129: The Girl from the Black Organization and the University Professor Murder Case

76: Conan vs. Kaitou Kid

68-70: The Night Baron Murder Case

50: The Library Murder Case (yup, again)

London flashbacks...

Ran’s message she sent to Shin’ichi is basically asking about the upcoming school trip.

Here’s another round...

400: Ran's Suspicions

472-473: Shin'ichi Kudo's Childhood Adventure

490: Heiji Hattori vs. Shin'ichi Kudo: Deduction Battle on the Ski Slope

507-508: The Blind Spot in the Karaoke Box

511: Deduction Showdown! Shin'ichi vs. Subaru Okiya

781: The Scarlet Intersection

780: The Scarlet Pursuit

129: The Girl from the Black Organization and the University Professor Murder Case

162: The Locked Room in the Sky: Shin'ichi Kudo's First Case

266-268: The Truth Behind Valentine's

284-285: Chinatown Deja Vu in the Rain

219: The Gathering of the Detectives! Shin'ichi Kudo vs. Kaitou Kid

345: Head-to-Head Match with the Black Organization: A Dual Mystery on a Full Moon Night

286-288: Shin'ichi Kudo's New York Case

Ran: “...Nope. Holding my phone determinedly does nothing to improve the reception. Stupid cell phone company...”

Looks like more messages asking relating to the upcoming school trip.

Here’s more...

230-231: The Mysterious Passenger

238-239: The 3 "K"s of Osaka Case

304: The Trembling Police Headquarters: 12 Million Hostages

385-387: The Dissonance of the Stradivarius

394-396: Big Adventure in the Eccentric Mansion

400: Ran's Suspicions

425: Black Impact! The Moment the Black Organization Reaches Out

457-458: Sonoko's Red Handkerchief

491-504: Clash of Red and Black

18: A June Bride Murder Case

153-154: Sonoko's Dangerous Summer Story

166-168: Tottori Spider Mansion Demon

174: The Twenty Year Old Murderous Intent: The Symphony Serial Murder Case

Back to the London flashback...

I’m not bothering identifying more. =w=; Books on Conan’s left are segments of the Scarlet Arc, and the others are too much in shadow to read completely.

Okay, one more identification because it’s the story that enables Shin’ichi to join up on the school trip: 925-926: The Heartfelt Strap.

Conan: “Conan...SMASH!!!”

*-Doctor Who theme intensifies-*

Ran: “Did...”

Ran: “Did you just stick a a 10 point landing?”

I see what you did there animators. Clever.

Yup, this too, showing the three sides to Amuro. Cleveerrrr...

Yeah, don’t worry Haibara. My brain’s fried too.

Overall, decent!

Opening 49: "Barairo no Jinsei"

Favorite screencap:

*-“Halleluiah” chorus intensifies-*

Comments:

Nothing really to say new about this one! This one’s just flashy despite not really having any new character animation to speak of; just bits from the school trip arc.

Opening 50: "ANSWER"

Favorite screencap:

When your anime has gone on forever and the person making this blog post wants to reference a now old meme.

Comments:

Gin: “For our next trick we shall now give a performance of Hitchcock’s ‘The Birds’!”

Conan: “I knew it. They’re wizards.”

Oh hey, it’s that Itakura guy from Episode 307-308.

Haibara with Mary...who may or may not be related?

Lots of Rum arc relevant things...

Carasuma now showing in the background...ominous.

Next Episode: Episode 946

Previous Episode: Episode 945

#detective conan #detective conan rewatch #openings #名探偵コナン

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knittastically · 5 years

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A Lioness Amongst the Wolves Pt 25

Raymond de Merville did not die on a beach in Ireland, of course he didn’t. He made it back to Rouen and has decided to marry a feisty little baggage called Isabé.

A fiction, based hardly at all on a fiction, with the addition of some other fictional characters and one or two real ones.

STABLES ARE WONDERFUL PLACES

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24

You can also find all chapters here on AO3

If you want in or out of the Tag List (at the bottom of the page) just let me know via message and it’ll be done in a flash

Théo clears the stairs two a time. There is purpose in his stride, but his expression gives no hint of the malicious glee that bubbles inside him. He is hoping to enter the King’s chamber unchallenged, feeling that as he is now an envoy to the King, it is his right; he is mistaken. He is within two strides of the door, when to his amazement the guards step in front of him snapping to attention and blocking his way. For a few moments Theo simply glares at them, but they aren’t cowed and won’t give way, these are seasoned men, it would take more than this jumped up prick to face them down. “I have business with His Majesty, urgent business, stand aside.” Théo growls, but it carries no weight. “I said stand aside.” His anger is beginning to rise, as he takes a step forward so does the taller of the two guards. *“Ce n'est pas possible Maître Fontaine, Sa Majesté a donné des instructions pour qu'il ne soit pas dérangé.”

Théo cannot read the guard’s expression, but he hears the disdain in his voice and sees the hard stare locked on him from dark eyes either side of a nasal bar. For all his position, Théo Fontaine has no rank and no real status, he’s is still “Master Fontaine” “This is important you fool; His Majesty will wish to hear what I have to say.” “Master Fontaine, please do not give me cause to set hands on you, perhaps it would be best if you returned later, of course you are welcome to wait.” He gestures to the chairs beside the door. The look Théo shoots him is venomous and he is about to call their bluff but thinks better of it. The Envoy judges a tactical retreat preferable to a forced removal; there’s no doubt in his mind that the guards would manhandle him down the stairs at the least provocation. Scowling, he settles himself down into one of the chairs and the indignity of being made to wait like a naughty child twists in his gut.

When Raymond reaches the fork in the road, he reins Volucer to a halt, Isabé is nowhere to be seen. The fingers of his right hand are threaded into the mane and he pulls gently, shifts his weight a little as he exerts pressure with his right thigh and eases off with his left. The young stallion responds immediately and turns clockwise in a full circle, Raymond needs neither saddle nor bridle, and he sits as relaxed and secure as if he were glued.

Scanning to the left, he knows this is the road that Isabé would most likely take, as it leads directly to the Manor, the right would take her along the edge of the city and he’s damned sure she hasn’t taken that route and doubled back. Ahead is another way, though it’s nothing more than a track that runs up the hill and peters out half way along the side of a large wood which marks the Eastern most boundary of Henri’s land. He twists his mouth into a wry smile and decides that she would have taken the main route, though he’s worried, he should have caught sight of her by now and there is no sign, not even a lost veil to mark her passage, he noticed she had left that at the stables. Without thinking he presses his left hand to his chest, to where the folded grubby linen of the veil he took to Paris, is tucked under his tunic.

“If I know you Isabé, you have run straight home, and gone to ground there.” Another shift of weight, a light touch of heels and Volucer springs forward then almost immediately Raymond stops him. Something has caught his eye, he squints and looks up the hill towards the edge of the wood, but there’s nothing, a trick of the light most likely then just as he starts to turn away, he sees it again and grins. Still seated on Diable, Isabé is just inside the wood, almost camouflaged by the dappled shade of the trees.

If any of his men could see him now, they would be more than amused to see the soft expression on his face. He raises his hand not sure if she has seen him and whispers to himself. “Take your time Isabé, take your time” Then he turns the horse onto the Manor road and canters away.

It is a little cooler in the shade of the trees, my own vanity has made me stop and watch to see if Raymond follows me; he does. From my vantage point I see him look around and check each route, before he heads off on the Manor road. At first, I am relieved that he hasn’t spotted me, but it only lasts until he halts again, looks up towards the wood and raises an arm in acknowledgement. He knows where I am and my breath hitches as I wait for him to ride up to me, but he simply turns Volucer around and canters away again. Relief gives way to something else, vexation because he hasn’t charged up to me, growling at me that I should change my mind and demanding I ride back to the Chateau and annoyance at myself for even wishing that he had.

“Damn you Raymond, well you can kick your heels at the Manor I shan’t hurry, and I hope Henry’s wine chokes you.” But of course, I’ll rush, I’m not about to let that surly bastard put too much of his case before I can put mine. Henri and Blanche are great friends of his and I shall have to face all three of them now. So rather than take the meandering paths through the wood, I ride hell for leather down the track and onto the main road, I shan’t be far behind him.

Théo is bored, irritated and not to mention offended as he sits picking at his fingers waiting to be granted access to the King. Suddenly the guards stand to attention and Theo is on his feet before the door opens. Baron de Merville, accompanied by the King step into the passage way laughing together. “Well Gauthier, it will be the talk of the year that Raymond has finally allowed himself to be snared and by such a slip of a thing as Isabé Pelletier.” “Indeed Sire, though I’d stake the Chateau and its contents, that he’s a more than willing victim. Believe me she is more than a match for my son, he won’t ride roughshod over her that’s for certain and she has a great deal of good sense in that young head.”

Philip glances sideways at his newest Envoy and as he catches Théo’s smug look his heart sinks a little, but nonetheless he smiles. “Fontaine what brings you here, I had not expected you see you so early in the day.” “You traitorous, arse licking, Bastard” Théo bows missing the look that passes between Gauthier and Philip. Almost everything he does grates on the King but keeping this man under scrutiny is not only a necessity, it is a priority. “Forgive the intrusion Sire, but I have received some information from an impeccable source, information which I’m certain will be of interest to you and indeed to you Monseigneur Baron.” “Very well Fontaine, I shall hear you out.” Philip turns on his heel and heads back into the chamber accompanied by the Baron. Fontaine is left to bring up the rear.

The King settles into his chair, quickly waves away his page and pours wine for himself and Gaultier, but none for Théo, he knows it will rankle, he knows it’s petty, but Théo will have to bear it. There is absolute silence in the room and as the page disappears through a small door concealed behind a tapestry, Théo frowns at his back. Twisting and turning the stem of his wine cup the King stares at his envoy, God how he loathes the man. The more time that passes, the more it reminds Théo that he is the King’s servant who, despite his new position has no title, little status and he may not even speak until Philip allows it. “So, Fontaine what is this information that you are so impatient to impart?” Théo hesitates as if it distresses him to speak and his face settles into a mask of feigned concern.

“For Christ’s sake spit it out man.” Philip growls, he can’t be bothered to keep up the pretence of civility and is certain that whatever Fontaine has to say to him, it has nothing to do with what is happening in the South, he is already fully appraised of that sorry situation.

“Sire, Monseigneur” It is with regret I must inform you that Mam’selle Pelletier has advised Sieur Raymond she will not marry him and only minutes ago she rode out from the Chateau on a stolen horse. A moment of silence is broken by a crack of laughter.

“Horseshit!” Baron de Merville laughs at Théo. “Your pardon Majesty but I can’t believe anything so ridiculous and besides, if it was a black mare she was riding, it’s hardly stolen seeing that it was a gift from Raymond.”

“I assure you Monseigneur Baron, Mam’selle it was adamant in her decision and the horse she rode out on was Sieur Raymond’s Courser.”

“Diable?” Gaultier shakes his head in disbelief “Now I know you’re talking bollocks Fontaine, she’s brave but she’s not a fucking idiot.” He flashes another look at Philip, it’s a silent apology for his soldiers’ language, Philip simply grins and waves away the remark, he has picked up on Gauthier’s game, for they already know that Isabé has left with Raymond in pursuit.

“I assure you Sire, Monseigneur, it is perfectly true.

“Well you did tell me she is headstrong.” Philip gives a throaty chuckle, but it dies quickly “So, Théo, I assume you know what occasioned this monumental change of heart in Mam’selle?

“Indeed Sire.” He quirks his mouth in a small smile. “No more than thirty minutes ago Mam’selle learned the identity of her Father.” Like an orator Théo pauses for effect and watches as the two men look at each other, then back at him.

“You are certain this is what has made her bolt, it seems most unlikely that such a discovery would unsettle someone of Isabé’s mettle.”

“Monseigneur, Mam’selle Pelletier is certain that the identity of her Father would..” he hesitates. “She feels it would make the match unacceptable to both you and his Majesty and is reported as saying that she doesn’t wish to bring disgrace on the de Merville name preferring to leave of her own accord, rather than be dismissed and perhaps held up to ridicule.”

“And this is your important news?” Phillip shakes his head in disbelief, but Theo either hasn’t noticed, or has chosen to ignore the King’s sarcasm and replies calmly. “Not quite all Majesty I am sure you will be interested to learn that Mam’selle Pelletier’s father is Sébastien Leon Fournier.” He turns to the Baron. “Your Seneschal Monseigneur.

“It might surprise you, Fontaine but I do know who Fournier is.” Gaultier answers drily.

With a solemn expression on his face, Théo waits, and further waits for the expected outcry of disbelief and a loud confirmation that the marriage can’t be allowed to take place; the silence is excruciating. Finally, Phillip places his wine cup oh so carefully on the side table and speaks. His voice is low, and quite amiable but his displeasure is obvious in his choice of some less than regal language.

“Fontaine, is this what you call information, do you think I raised you to the position of Envoy just so that you could come running to me with fucking “town well” gossip, tittle-tattle rattled off by old crones and housemaids? I don’t pay you to peddle this shit. When I appointed you in place of the late but not much lamented Geoffroy Maçon, it was because I believed you to be an intelligent and resourceful man; a man who knew exactly what his remit and sphere of operations would be, perhaps I was mistaken?

“No, Your Majesty, you are not mistaken, the fault is entirely mine.” God how the words stick in his craw.

Philip continues, “Troops left Lyon for Bézier two days ago, where are they now, how does Arnald-Aumery fare and that arse of a fortune hunter de Montforte, is Raymon-Roger Trenceval still digging his heels, do you know? More importantly what is John up to over in England, and that bastard Otto? Set up your network, give me information I can use.” Of course, the King knows the answers to all those questions, knows his Envoy has a string of spies working on entirely different matters, but he watches Fontaine closely.

Struggling to keep a tight rein on his temper, Théo knows an answer is required and he gives it. His tone matches the penitent expression on his face as he manages to keep the acid out of his voice. “But Majesty, I felt sure that you, and indeed you too Monseigneur Baron, would wish to know this, I understood that you both had misgivings about the match and was only seeking to….

Théo is cut short. “This is of no interest, let me be clear, I require information, as my Envoy you not only represent me, you have access to highest ranking officials and the lowest of the low, all of whom will doubtless sell their souls, never mind information for the right price. Now shape your fucking ideas or you’ll be out of my service with the toe of my boot up your arse and I’ll have you shovelling shit in the stables. Let Raymond have his pretty, headstrong village maid to warm his bed, she will be a good match for him.”

A laugh rumbles up from Gaultiers chest. “Sire, my son can be most persuasive when he chooses, he is used to “Gentling” wayward fillies”

Philip smiles across at him but the instant he turns back to Fontaine, the smile disappears, his eyes glitter cold and hard as he takes a slow swallow of wine whilst Théo stands pale faced and rigid before him. “Do I make myself plain Fontaine?”

“Indeed, Sire and I shall endeavour to serve you well.” His teeth are not quite gritted, his jaw not quite clenched, but the hatred and loathing in his eyes is unmistakeable.

“If you will permit Majesty, I have a question for Master Fontaine.” Philip nods his agreement, “Certainly de Merville.”

“Théo, what did you hope to gain by divulging this information hein? It may not be common knowledge that you once had a liaison with Isabé, but I know of it. Did you assume that if the marriage was forbidden, Raymond would renounce her, and you would step into his boots? If so, you are a fool, it would take a far better man than you to fill them. Trust me Fontaine, come Saturday Raymond and Isabé will be married before, God, Family and the people of Rouen.”

Théo stares at a point behind Gauthiers left shoulder, how the hell did the Baron know of their affair, but his jaw drops slack as The King speaks again.

“One more thing, the information you brought, was already gathering dust when you entered my chamber, we had already discussed the matter before you arrived. When the name of Isabé’s Father becomes common knowledge, and it will, you are to make it known that neither I, nor Baron de Merville have any objections to the match. Now you may go Fontaine and remember my warning. “Majesty,” is all Théo can manage, he bows low and leaves the chamber racking his brains as to how they could have known so quickly that Isabé had fled. Then he remembers the page and he actually laughs, he has been bested by a twelve year old.

Raymond has barely reined Volucer to a halt before he is sliding down from the stallions back, rather than make his way to the main door he strides across the yard to the kitchens; young Julot is the first to spot him.

“Sieur, may I help you?”

“No need boy, I know where I’m going.” The smell of cooking makes Raymond’s stomach grumble he snatches up an apple from the basket just inside the kitchen door, he knows Blanche won’t begrudge him. “I need to speak with your Master and Mistress.

“They are in their private chamber Sieur.”

“Is anyone else with them?”

“No Sieur just the two of them.” Julot is about to add something when he turns away and looks into the courtyard, Raymond has heard it too, another rider.

If the stable lads and grooms are taken by surprise when I gallop around to the back of the Manor only moments after Raymond, they don’t show it. My hair is tangled, and my skirts are up to my knees, but they are used to my ways. As I rein up, I catch sight of Raymond, he is lounging in the kitchen doorway and as he sinks his teeth into the crisp flesh of an apple, the look he shoots me is just plain lewd, and I shiver.

“You took your time chérie, I felt sure you would be here before me.” He slings the half eaten apple into a swill bucket.

I slide from Diable’s back and before I take two steps Raymond is beside me, shouting across to the groom.

“Don’t bother Hugh, I’ll stable this brute.”

“As you wish Sieur.” He returns to his companions to continue his meal. “Looks like trouble.” Alain the youngest grooms croaks out, trying not to chuckle.” “Oh, I would put money on that boy.” Hugh laughs outright, do you know who that brute is? “That my lads is Diable, Sieur Raymond’s Courser one of the finest stallions in the area, Christ knows where Mam’selle got up the nerve to ride him, he’s known for being an evil tempered old sod.” Alain sniggers “A bit like his master then, I wonder if Mam’selle will learn to ride that miserable bugger as easily.” Hugh smacks him across the back of his head, but laughs himself as he adds, “I’ve no doubt she’ll know how to take him in hand and put him through his paces.”

Raymond takes the reins in his right hand, with his left he takes hold of my arm, digging his fingers into the flesh above my elbow. A slight smile curves his mouth, He may seem pleased to see me, but his eyes tell an entirely different story. They are cold, like blue ice. “We have things to discuss Isabé and I have no mind to do it in front of Henri and Blanche.”

Raymond still has hold of my arm as we walk to the farthest end of the stable, dropping the reins he spins me around and slams me into the wall, the wood is hard against my back.

“Don’t move, don’t speak.” Even with the main door open, my eyes aren’t yet accustomed to the light, but I don’t need to see Raymonds face to know he’s angry. Above all else Raymond is a soldier, and even after such a short ride, he makes me wait as he checks each of Diable’s legs and feet in turn before leading him into the stall.

I stand where he left me, for a moment we just stare at each other, then he grabs me by the shoulders and shakes me. “Satan’s arse Isabé what in Hell possessed you to ride Diable, Christ I have soldiers under my command who won’t go near the bastard, yet you lead him out and ride away on him as if he’s no than a child’s pony.”

“Then don’t you think that says more about your men than about me?” I sound more confident than I feel. He doesn’t reply in words, but his kiss says everything. It speaks of anger, relief, and in the last soft brushing of lips it speaks of love. “I could have lost you Isabé, why must you be so reckless, so fucking headstrong?” He shakes his head. “If you had fallen, he would have trampled you into the ground and I can’t bear to lose you, I won’t lose, you especially not to this crack brained idea you have that there won’t be a wedding.” He weaves his long fingers in my hair, and I wince a little was they come against knots and tangles. My eyes are accustomed to the darkness now, I can make out the planes and contours of his face, his glittering eyes, I don’t need to see the colour they will be blue as blue. He sighs as he presses his forehead against mine and despite myself, I wrap my arms around his neck as I hear a catch in his voice. “There will be no objection to Fournier, and you should return to the Chateau with me and beg his forgiveness for your harsh treatment of him. I’m ashamed of you, he is a fine man, a good man and your behaviour was disgraceful, you disappoint me Isabé.”

That he is disappointed, hurts me more than anything else he has said; I step back from him as if he’s slapped me. When I answer my voice is waspish. “I was angry, with him I wanted to hurt him, and I’d sooner walk away from this wedding than be made to leave; let me walk away Raymond.”

“Never,” he pulls me back into him, my hands are flat against his chest and I can feel the rapid beat of his heart. “I love you Isabé and you are stuck with this old Soldier for good or ill.” His lips brush mine as he speaks. I hear the growl in the back of his throat as he settles his right hand in the small of my back then slides it down to cup my arse, his left hand strokes gently up and down my back, as he teases my mouth with soft, soft kisses, gently sucking at my lips, the briefest touch of his tongue to mine, nips of strong teeth along my jaw, down my neck. I tilt my head back craving more, he pushes the neck of my gown as far aside as it will go and sinks his teeth into my shoulder making me hitch my breath. The pain subsides as he bites more gently and steadily sucks at the skin. “Now you are marked as mine.” Without another word he takes hold of my hand and leads me across to the manor. We make our way through the kitchen and up the into the hall towards Henri and Blanche’s private chamber, the door is ajar and soft laughter floats out.

Raking my fingers through my hair, I try to work out the worst of the tangles then tuck the strands behind my ears, and smooth down my dusty gown as best I can. Raymond pushes open the heavy oak door and we step into the room. Henri turns towards us. his broad toothy smile lighting his face, it is hard to think that this grizzled, ageing man is much the same age as Raymond.

“Isabé, Raymond, I had not thought to see you before the wedding day.” Arms wide, Blanche steps towards me and gathers me into an embrace kissing my cheeks. Raymond takes her hand and presses the back of it to his lips. “Henri, Blanche we thought it was best to come straight to see you, Isabé has some news that you should hear.” The slightest frown creases Blanche’s brow. “Two things Maman, firstly, I know who my father is and secondly because of that there will be no wedding.”

Henri seems struck dumb, Blanche gasps, whatever any of them had expected it wasn’t that.

“Isabé” Raymond growls out my name, he had been convinced I would change my mind. “What the hell are you saying?”

“I’ve already said I shan’t marry you; your father will never allow it, let alone the King and you can’t convince me otherwise. A bastard brat with a nobody for a mother and a servant for a father. I have nothing in my lineage to recommend me as your wife.

Henri snarls at me. “How dare you show such disrespect to your Mother Isabé” He points his finger at me. “I will not allow it, not under my roof, and you have been harsh and discourteous to your Father. He is not here and cannot defend himself, but you will apologise to your Mother, NOW! I should put you over my knee and wallop your arse.”

Raymond bites at the inside of his mouth then drawl’s out “That would make no difference Henri, I’ve tried.”

Tears of anger prick my eyes. “You, are my Father Henri, far more than Fournier ever was; you raised me, taught me, put clothes on my back, what did he ever do?”

My head snaps back as Blanche slaps me hard across the face and snarls. “Grow up Isabé, you know that’s not true, I told you as much. I could not on my word of honour reveal his name, I had made a promise, but I told you of the man, or were you not listening. When you were small there was barely a day that Sebastien did not visit, as for everything else, nothing was done without his approval and he contributed as much as he could. Don’t you dare let me hear you say such things again.” Henri slides his arm around Blanche’s shoulder drawing her close into his side. Her shoulders heave and there are tears just ready to spill onto her cheeks.

I look at Raymond, he has stood by quietly as we played out our family squabble, now he fixes his blue eyes on me and I can’t look away from him. “Go home Raymond, go back to the Chateau, I will send for my things tomorrow.” I rub my right hand against my cheek to ease the stinging of Blanche’s slap.

He curls his long fingers around my wrist and his grip is so tight it is painful as he pushes me towards a chair. “Sit!” “I’m not a dog.” “No, Isabé but you can be a real bitch.” He stands before me thumbs looped through his belt, Henri and Blanche cast a look each other and smile, married life for Raymond and Isabé is unlikely to be dull.

“Stay here overnight if you must, I shall make your excuses, after all what could be more natural then you wanting to spend time with your Mother before the wedding?”

I huff out my breath and look away from him.

“Tomorrow morning, I will send Jehanne and Guillaume to you, Jehanne will bring you a fresh gown and prepare you for your return, then she and Guillaume will escort you home; I shall expect to see you no later than midday. Firstly you will visit Fournier, and you will beg his forgiveness for your shameful behaviour, then you will spend the rest of the day with the ladies of the court, you will be gracious and polite”

I roll my eyes and snort in disgust. Raymond ignores me and continues. “And you will entertain the King at the evening meal, oh and please for the next two days at least, I would be grateful if you could pretend to be a well brought up young women and not some wilful little hoyden.”

I am rigid in the chair, fingers white knuckled as I clutch at the arms, foot tapping on the floor in annoyance and I can feel my face burning. “How dare he speak to me as if I was some disobedient housemaid?” but when I flick my eyes up to his, I see laughter lurking there. “Your life would be so boring without me Raymond, and remember I told you I will never be a simpering little wife so stop ordering me around.” He doesn’t rise to the bait but retorts drily. “I take it that you have just agreed to the wedding?”

I frown at him, as I realise I have walked into my own trap, there is laughter in his eyes.

“Let me make it plain Isabe. At 10 o’clock on Saturday morning you and I will stand before the Cathedral doors and we will be declared husband and wife, our marriage will be blessed before the High Altar and you will return to the Chateau as Madame de Merville.”

I nod, and he holds out his hand, as I grasp it he adds. “I should tell you, Nicolette will be most annoyed If we don’t marry, she has quite taken to you and isn’t at all happy that she might not get to wear her new gown, surely for that reason alone we should do this hein? “Oh of course, what better reason could there be?” I laugh up at him and he brushes his fingers down my cheek then issues a warning. “If you aren’t beside me on the Cathedral steps at the appointed time Isabé, I will come looking for you and I warn you I will carry you there hobbled, tied and draped over my saddle.” I had oddest feeling that he would do it.

“If you will excuse me Blanche, Henri I must take my leave.” He tightens his grip on my hand. “Walk to the stables with me, there are things I wish to say to you.”

The lads are nowhere to be seen and we are no more than half way to the horses when Raymond turns me and pushes me against the stable wall. The solid wooden boards unyielding against my back. “So, what is it you wish to say to me Sieur Raymond?” Even in this light I can see his eyes are blown dark surrounded with just a narrow band of blue. Hands skim up my sides and he brushes his thumbs under my breasts, barely touching them but it’s enough, and my breath hitches in my throat.

“It pleases me that your body yields so quickly to my touch Isabé.” His voice is lower than I’ve ever heard, there is something feral about it and God help me it excites me. I follow his eyes downwards to where the hard points of my nipples strain against the fabric of my gown, and watch he rolls each one between his finger and thumb sending sharp, sweet pains shooting down to that one little point and I can already feel the wetness between my thighs.

Suddenly there is a change. The air crackles, his mouth is fierce, bruising, as he rakes his teeth over my tongue and lips, with one hand he cradles my head and I can’t help but wrap my arms around him, returning his kisses like for like; I feel as if I will burn to white ashes. Without warning Raymond drops to his knees, takes hold of my gown and pushes it up. As he plants a kiss on each knee he uses his shoulders to push my legs wider apart and Holy Mary Forgive me, but I take hold of the hem and lift my skirts even higher giving him leave to trail hot kisses up my inner thighs, grazing the delicate, pale skin with his beard.

Frowning he looks up at me then back down again, as he traces a finger up and down over the long scar on my right thigh, then follows the mark with gentle kisses as if doing so would make it disappear. I shudder as he traces his tongue along the crease between thigh and hip, and plants kisses along each side of the triangle of dark curls. I hear him take in a deep groaning, shuddering breath. “Sweet Christ, the scent of you is heaven.” His face pressed against me, he breathes in again then blows out his breath slowly, it stirs the hairs, feels cool over my wetness and he chuckles as I shudder, squeaking out his name.

I don’t remember leaving go of my dress, but my right hand is threaded through his hair now, my fingers digging into his scalp trying to guide his mouth to where I want it. As I look down at him through heavy lidded eyes, he smiles up and then is serious. His voice is no more than a rough whisper.

“Isabé, I have never in my life forced a woman, if you wish me to stop I will, you have only to say and I will hear.”

It seems time hangs still as he waits for my answer.

“Don’t you dare, don’t you damned well dare stop.” My voice is no less a growl than his.

He braces his left forearm across my hips as he parts me with his tongue and the first touch of him makes me mewl and whimper as I try to push my hips forward. * “Patience ma Chérie, avoir de la patience.” My pleasure will be at his pace and he is skilful as he sucks, laps and nips, teasing me with his wicked tongue, the feel of his beard against the sensitive flesh. My mind closed to everything but the feel and sound of Raymond, he shifts and lifts my right leg settling my thigh on his shoulder. “So wet Isabé, I could drown in you.”

With his eyes locked to mine he traces a finger down through the dark hairs, smiles as he slides it between my folds and gently on into the warm wetness, another finger follows and profanities, pleas to God and Raymonds name tumble from my mouth as he sets a gentle, yet relentless rhythm assaulting my nerves with fingers and tongue. My legs are shaking, I have to force myself to breathe, my back arches and hips buck as time and again he brings me almost to that point of release. I can barely stand, my leg lacks+ strength, and I feel I might die burning in this fire. My mind won’t think straight, I need that blessed release and Raymond is taking his own sweet damned time.

“Raymond please,” I am begging him now, my voice rises higher, louder. “Fuck, Raymond I beg you Pleeease,” The last world comes out as a long keening wail.

“If you wish my darling, since you have asked so nicely.” His grin is almost wolfish, though his voice washes over me like a soothing balm as he steadies me with his free hand on my hip, pushing me more firmly against the planks. Tongue and fingers in unison, he changes tempo and soon I feel that tightening in my stomach and legs. All I can hear is the sound of my own harsh, rapid breathing. Finally, I shatter, my body is flying apart. Back arched, body rigid, his name flies out of my mouth and bounces from the walls I don’t care that it is so loud they might well hear it in the city. I can’t think, can’t speak, I feel Raymond rest his cheek against me, as he strokes his right hand up and down the back of my thigh, keeping me steady he lifts my leg and gently sets my foot to the ground then smooths my dress. Rising to his feet he cradles me to his chest, I hear the echo of his heart pounding, his breath is hot as he brushes his lips against my hair. Thank God he holds me tight, else I’m sure I would either fly or fall.

Brushing strands of damp hair from my face his voice is so gentle as he whispers, “My beautiful, beautiful Isabé, my nearly wife.” And his kiss is as soft as his words. As I taste myself on his lips, I moan into his mouth and he holds me so tightly I can feel his own arousal, his hard cock pressed against me.

“What about you Raymond?” I slide a hand between us and settle my palm against the hard heat of him, but he takes hold of my wrist, and lifting my hand to his mouth, kisses and nips at the base of my thumb.

“My sweetness, there will be time enough, my desire was to give you pleasure and for now it is enough for me to know that every time you look at me between now and our wedding night, you will remember how you fell apart with my mouth on you and my fingers inside you. I want you to remember the taste of yourself on my lips and to know that you’re mine Isabé, as I am yours and there is better to come.”

*“That is not possible Master Fontaine, His Majesty gave instructions that he was not to be disturbed. * “Patience my darling, have patience.”

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lilacmoon83 · 6 years

Text

Finding You Always

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 166: Walking the Wire

David looked over at her out of the corner of his eye, as Regina drove them and they sat in her backseat. He reached over and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Are you okay?" he asked, as she stared out the car window, watching the cityscape pass them by.

"No...I don't think I am," she said, choking back a sob. He hummed in agreement.

"I guess that was a dumb question...okay seems like a pipe dream right now," he agreed.

"Emma's gone...and now our son is dating a murderer. Except, he doesn't remember he's our son and that he's actually in love with someone else," she said bitterly.

"Hey...I know. I hate this too, but we're going to fix all of this," he promised.

"We can't David! Emma is dead," she stated angrily and he swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Even if we fix everything else...Emma is gone forever," she cried, as he took her in his arms.

"And Leo is in serious danger, because he doesn't remember who Nick really is and if I lose one of our little boys…" she sobbed against his chest.

"No...I won't let it happen. I'm going to be watching him like a hawk and I will lock him up in prison where he belongs," he promised.

"Leo's going to be devastated...he loves Elsa. He'd never willingly be with someone else...this is..." she said, but she couldn't even say that word out the fear that her sorrow for her little boy would swallow her.

"He would never consent to that monster," she growled.

"I know...believe me, I want to rip his throat out," he agreed.

"But... we'll help him through this, just like we always have. And Elsa will understand that it's not his fault," he assured her.

"I know...I just keep thinking about how that could have been us. They could have cursed either or both of us to be with other people," she said, shuddering at that. He shuddered too. He had never had a desire to be with anyone but her and never would. He hated how all their lives had been torn apart yet again. And this time...their family had suffered a devastating loss and he was afraid they would never be quite the same. He knew they would endure and their love would help them survive it...but nothing would ever be the same without Emma.

"This is never going to work," Regina warned.

"It has to...we can't lose Lucy too," David replied. She nodded in agreement, before getting out and going to his door. He was waiting for her and opened it with a smug smile.

"Roni...it was such a pleasant surprise hearing from you. Won't you come in?" he asked. She faked a smile and nodded, as they went inside.

~*~

The Enchanted Forest 2

Storybrooke year - 2023

The portal opened and deposited them in a forest, which was very similar to the ones they knew in the other realms.

"Huh...if I didn't know any better, I'd say we're home," Robin commented.

"I suppose we better find Rose Red's palace," Belle said, as they trekked further into the forest. As they walked through a clearing, Emma had an eerie feeling and noticed a suspicious pile of brush in the middle of the clearing. Just as Elsa was about to step through it, Emma pulled her back.

"Emma...what are you doing?" she asked. Emma responded by using a large stick to trigger what she thought to be a trap. Elsa cried out, as the snapping jaws of a bear trap sprang up before them.

"Damn...that's one hell of a trap," Kristoff commented.

"How did you know there was a trap there?" Anna questioned. Emma smirked.

"My mother was a bandit and she used to set all kinds of traps to catch game. But this one was so obvious that it was definitely set by a novice. A stupid one," she commented.

"Excuse me...how dare you call me stupid! I was a King, you know!" a voice said, as a man emerged from the bushes, with a slithering-like man riding his coattails. Emma raised an eyebrow.

"The only reason I have to live in this blasted forest is because my traitorous niece ousted me from my Throne and then riff raff like you comes along and spoils my perfectly laid trap!" he complained.

"You must be John…" Emma said, with an amused smirk.

"That's King John! And I don't believe I have ever met you!" he growled in return.

"No...but you met my parents. Snow White and Prince David…" she responded.

"Them! They're the reason I had to flee that new land and lost another Throne! Prepare to taste my blade!" he said, as he extracted a dagger.

"Is this guy serious?" Kristoff muttered.

"He's worse than the Duke of Wesselton," Anna joked, laughing at him.

"Sire...I don't think we should be picking any fights," Sir Hiss advised.

"Shut up Hiss...you're spoiling my big moment!" John warned.

"Wait...hold on, this guy has a lisp and his name is Hiss?" Kristoff asked, as they all chuckled a little.

"Sure is...and as much fun as this is, we do not have time for it," Belle reminded.

"Quite right...we have our families to save," Robin agreed, as they moved on.

"Don't you dare walk away from the great Prince John! I am a force to be reckoned with, you know!" he said, as he threw a rock in their direction and Hiss threw one too. Unfortunately, it bounced off another rock and hit John right in the forehead.

"Owe...Hiss…" he growled, as he promptly lost consciousness.

"Oh dear...sorry Sire," he said, as the group they had just encountered moved on and made their way to the castle in the distance. As they did, Kristoff was still chuckling.

"Kristoff…" Anna chided.

"Oh come on...it's funny," he said. She gave him a look and he cleared his throat.

"Okay...not funny," he muttered, as he gave Emma a sideways glance when Anna wasn't glaring at him.

"It's funny right...I mean, Sir Hiss has a lisp. It's funny," he murmured. Emma smirked and shook her head.

"I suppose it's kind of funny, in a really juvenile way," she agreed.

"See...I knew you'd get it. You're David's kid," he said, happy with himself, as they reached the gates. Once they did, they were stopped by the Royal Guard.

"State your business," the lead guard said gruffly.

"It's imperative that we have an audience with Queen Rose Red and Prince Fandral," Emma said.

"No one just has an audience with the Queen, girl," he responded gruffly.

"Woman," she corrected.

"And I know them...they're friends. My name is Emma...just tell them and they'll know me," she implored.

"We'll do no such thing. Now leave...or else," he growled.

"Stand down Brundy," a strong voice called and one that sounded so familiar to Emma that it made her heart ache. The guard was immediately bowing.

"Your Highness," he said, as Fandral stood before them. Beside him stood a blonde teenager about Summer's age and Emma was struck by how much this girl looked like she did at that age.

"Emma...is that you?" Fandral asked. She smiled and nodded.

"Are your parents here?" he asked, looking around.

"Actually no...that's why we're here," Emma replied.

"Yes...there has been another curse. Our families are in danger and we have no idea where this curse took them," Robin explained.

"Aphrodite told us of the library that you and Rose Red are guardians of. She said if there was any way to find them...the answer may rest in one of the books here," Belle continued.

"How awful...another curse. Come...we'll tell Rose what is going on immediately and then we'll help you search," he said, motioning them along. Emma smiled and followed him.

"Thank you…" she said. He smiled.

"Emma...you and your parents are like family. There is nothing Rose and I will not do to help," he assured, as he led them inside the palace.

~*~

"Any change in that little girl? Lucy was it?" the desk nurse asked, as Jenna filed another chart from one of her patients.

"No...and I'm baffled. I can't find anything wrong. No wounds or injuries and her tox screen is completely clean," she replied in frustration.

"You're one of the best, Jenna...but maybe it's time to call in a specialist. I worked with this doctor a few months ago and he was incredibly gifted. Maybe you could consult him?" the nurse suggested. At this point, Jenna would try anything to save this little girl. There was just something about her and all of this that made her feel like lives depended upon it. The death of a child destroyed families all the time, but for some reason, she felt there was even more at stake here, though she couldn't put her finger on why.

"Do you have his card?" she asked. The nurse smiled and nodded, as she gave it to her.

"Doctor Anthony Narita," Jenna read, as she dialed his number.

~*~

Cassidy's shift was finally ending and he punched out, as he prepared to head to the station to make his daily report. He took his phone out, as he was walking toward his car and saw that he had a text from Weaver.

"I'm not at the station tonight. Come to the hospital when you're done," he read from the screen. Cassidy shrugged and suddenly noticed that he was surrounded by a few of the other guards.

"Uh...can I help you?" Cassidy asked.

"The boss wants to see you," one of the guards said. Cassidy knew better though. This was an ambush, which meant Clayton was onto him. He reacted with a punch to one of the guards and started to run, but he was tackled by another. He felt something blunt strike him on the back of the neck and everything went black.

~*~

"I must say...I'm still surprised by your call, though not unhappy," Baron said, as he poured a couple glasses of scotch and handed on to her.

"I got the impression last time I was at your bar that you had no interest in me," he mentioned.

"Well...things change," Roni responded, as she downed the scotch, welcoming the burning liquid sliding down her throat. It was pretty much the only way she was going to get through this. She hoped Snow and David were able to quickly find the chalice, because she seriously did not like how Samdi was looking at her right now. He chuckled and gave her a refill.

"The little girl...Lucy is it?" he asked. She paused, as she raised the glass to her lips and gave him a scrutinizing look.

"How did you know?" she questioned. He shrugged.

"I noticed her and her mother have been around you lately and guessed. I know there is young Bobby that you are fond of as well, but if it were Bobby, I suspect you could not be drawn away from Mary's side," he mentioned. She shot him an icy gaze.

"Mary is my...very dear friend and your son put her and her child through hell," she reminded. He nodded, taking her criticism in stride.

"I do not pretend to understand Franklin's expertise in the psychological sciences. Obviously, he mis-diagnosed Ms. Blanchard's dissociative identity disorder, but then we all make mistakes," he offered.

"Forcing pills down her throat and his orderlies leaving bruises on her was hardly a mistake. Trust me, if her...David Nolan had his way, both your son and Clayton Stavros would be behind bars right now," she warned.

"I believe Franklin deserves the benefit of the doubt, but I don't disagree about the Collector. He has an evil way about him...pretending to be her brother with forged documents and trying to rip a child away from her is truly dastardly. But I daresay, Mary is lucky to have someone like Detective Nolan in her corner," he leered, as he sipped at his drink.

"David is a good friend...and someone who will always seek justice, especially for the people he cares about," Roni responded in a neutral tone. Samdi smirked.

"Though it's quite clear that those two are more than friends," he mentioned. Roni pursed her lips.

"Sometimes there are certain people in this world that simply belong together. That's Mary and David," she answered.

"Oh, I wholeheartedly agree...some people are just meant to be," he leered, as he towered over her with a look that instantly told her they were no longer talking about Mary and David. She looked away uncomfortably and finished her drink.

"Ah...I've made you uncomfortable. I apologize, but you can't blame a gentleman for trying, especially when it comes to a woman as beautiful as you," he added smoothly. She turned back and forced a smile.

"Not at all," she lied.

"I guess I'm just a bit preoccupied...with Lucy," she confessed.

"Yes...such a terrible thing. If only there was something someone could do to save her," he mentioned.

"If only," she agreed, getting a bit nervous, as he looked at her with a passionate gaze. She didn't want to kiss him, but if she pulled away, he would be more suspicious than she suspected he already was. And getting caught meant Lucy could die, so she did not resist when he pressed his lips to hers. Her eyes opened and met his once their lips parted and he smiled softly.

"That was nice," he said. She nodded in agreement.

"It was," she stated.

"Do you think they've had enough time?" he asked. Her brow furrowed in confusion.

"What?" she asked.

"Do you think Snow White and her prince have had enough time to pilfer through my home?" he questioned with an edge in his voice and she blanched.

"You are a very poor actress, my Queen...a good poker face, you don't have," he said and she gasped, as he rushed toward his office. She hurried after him and cried out to them to give them some kind of warning, though it wouldn't do any good.

~*~

It was eternally lucky for them that Baron Samdi hadn't bothered to lock the door once he let Roni in. Picking a lock on the window probably would have been easy for Snow, but disarming what looked like a state of the art security system would have been an obstacle. Luckily, it wasn't armed and they slipped into his residence without incident. They looked at each other and David nodded toward the hallway. He took her hand and led her quietly down the hallway, peering in darkened rooms, as they went. He motioned with his head and they quietly made their way into what appeared to be his office.

"You think he'd really hide in his office?" she whispered.

"If my gut is right...and I think it is, because look at those shelves," he replied quietly, as she looked at the various trinkets.

"Shrunken heads and junk?" she asked. He smirked.

"Trophies," he corrected.

"Why would a cheap little shrunken head be a trophy?" she asked and then realized what he was getting at.

"Oh, you don't think these…" she started to say, as she dropped one of them back onto the shelf.

"Real people?" she asked, horrified by that. He shrugged.

"He is into some pretty dark magic and instead of taking hearts…" he said, trailing off.

"Ugh…" she whimpered, as she shook her hand off and wiped it off on her jeans. He chuckled at her antics, as he continued to poke around the shelves.

"If it's glowing...wouldn't he conceal it where it can't be seen?" she wondered. He smiled at her indulgently.

"Yes he would…" he said, as he knocked on the spine of one of the books on the shelves.

"A hallow book," she said, sharing his smile, as he tipped it down and panel in the wall where an expensive painting adorned it, spun around.

"Talk about a Scooby-Doo moment," Snow commented, as the glow of the chalice filled the office.

"We got it," he said, as he took it in his hand.

As he said that though, they heard Regina cry out to them and David scrambled toward her, only to find that Facilier's grandson had slipped in behind them and it quickly became clear that this was an ambush, as he put a gun to Snow's head.

"Get your hands off her," David growled, as the man took her arm, as he held her hostage at gunpoint.

"I'm afraid that's not going to happen," Baron Samdi interjected, as he entered the room, with Regina running after him.

"Did you really think I didn't know exactly what was going on when you called me?" he questioned the former Queen.

"It doesn't matter...the chalice doesn't belong to you and our great granddaughter's life depends on us using it," David said.

"He's right...punish us if you have to, but don't let her die," Snow pleaded.

"I'm afraid I can't let either of you leave here with that...it's the key to getting what has been denied to me for so long," Samdi mentioned.

"The time travel thing...you can't still be on that. It's not going to work," David refuted.

"Oh, but it already has. Just talking about going back in time before the curse was cast had an effect. It worked and took us to this place, just not far enough into the past for me. In the right hands...it will work," he countered.

"But you can't touch it without being incinerated," Snow reminded.

"Then you will do it for me," Baron stated.

"No...this isn't going to end the way you think. Please...Lucy needs us," Regina pleaded.

"All I wanted was your love…" he argued.

"You and I both know that's not true. You were drawn to power...the power I had as the Evil Queen. You loved that part of me and she's gone," Regina argued.

"No...she's still inside you or she was...until you ripped her away!" he roared, as she took a step back from him.

"Then you know…" she realized.

"I told him about my experiences in your little town...Storybrooke and Dr. Jekyll's serum," Franklin confirmed.

"How could you just throw her away? She was the love of my life," he confessed.

"And she was the worst part of me...she continually haunted me and then she came back. She hurt the people I love!" Regina said.

"She threw me away for a curse...we could have been so good together. We still can," Baron stated, as he looked at David.

"You will do what I want…" he said, as his charm appeared in his hand. As Franklin seemed distracted by that, Snow bit his hand and he cried out, as she tore away. But he angrily backhanded her, sending her crashing to the floor.

"Bastard!" David cried, seeing red the moment this man struck his beloved. He tackled the doctor and punched him in response.

"Does it make you feel like a big man when you hit a woman?" David growled. But Franklin chuckled.

"So predictable, Prince Charming...you reacted just as I knew you would if I touched your precious Snow," he sneered, as his grandfather suddenly had the charm in front of David's face and he was put under Samdi's control.

"David!" Snow cried, as she sat up.

"Samdi...don't do this!" Regina cried, but Franklin trained her gun on her, keeping her from interfering.

"Clayton almost had the chalice in Atlantis. He killed one half of the truest loves and for a brief second, he could touch the chalice to take its power. But your brats spoiled it and you brought your prince back," Samdi stated, as he looked at the Princess.

"But I will not make the same errors he made and once you are gone, Snow White, the Chalice will be mine. Your children aren't here to interfere and when your Prince awakens to see what has happened...well, he'll be in no condition to stop me from doing anything," he continued.

"So you're going to kill me while Charming is under your spell," she realized and he chuckled.

"Oh no...he's going to do it for me," Samdi threatened, as he stood behind David and spoke in his ear.

"Kill her…choke the life out of her…" he instructed, as David stared straight ahead and moved toward her.

"David…" Snow uttered, as he hovered over her.

"Charming...snap out of it…" she pleaded, as his hands reached for her neck and she felt around the floor for any blunt objects. Fortunately, some of the things on Samdi's desk had fallen onto the floor in the commotion and she found a paperweight.

"I'm sorry, my love, but you'll thank me later," she said, as she hit him in the chin with the object and he went falling to the floor. She got up immediately and as he lay there dazed, she leaned down and kissed him. His eyes opened wide and the chalice glowed, as Samdi's spell was nullified.

"Snow…" he uttered when their lips parted and then widened in the horror of what had almost happened.

"Shh...I'm fine," she assured, as she helped him up. Samdi smirked.

"You are both formidable for sure. I suppose this evening is a draw...but it won't be the last time we entangle for the power in that chalice," he assured. Franklin glanced at him.

"We can't let them go," he growled.

"Ivan…" Samdi chided, as he used his grandson's real name.

"No, they ruined my life...and so did you!" he cried, as he pointed the gun at all of them. David's hand twitched, as he started to go for the gun in his holster, but Franklin saw that and grabbed Snow. He put her in a headlock and pressed the barrel to her temple, halting any movements from him.

"Let her go…" David warned with an edge in his voice.

"I had a thriving practice until you two came along…" he growled.

"Then my life became insanity!" he added.

"Only because you couldn't let my wife go and forget your grudge. Everything could have went back to normal for you in New Orleans, but you chose to come after us," David retorted.

"Because you and this little bitch tarnished my reputation! It took me years to build my practice and emerge from the disgraceful shadow that he left me under!" Ivan screamed. He had finally snapped under all the pressure and David knew he had to diffuse this quickly, before he harmed the woman he loved. Ivan glared at his grandfather.

"You made our name something to be mocked! It is still sneered at in the academic community! Then I finally get a new practice under the Samdi name...and you two have sought to ruin me again!" he cried, looking at Snow and David.

"You locked Snow up and forced pills down her! You diagnosed her with a disorder she doesn't really have, so those recent newspaper articles are your fault!" Regina growled.

"No!" he shouted.

"They're hers," he growled, as he started making his way toward the exit with Snow as his hostage.

"But I'm going to have the last laugh. I'm going to kill your precious Snow White and render that stupid cup powerless," Franklin boasted, as he glared at his grandfather.

"Then you'll have nothing and be stuck in this world, powerless for the rest of your miserable life. I've made sure to ruin your reputation while I was at it," he added cryptically. Samdi looked at him suspiciously.

"What have you done, you little fool?" he questioned.

"You'll soon know…" he said, as the look in his eye was one that was purely psychotic.

"You're not walking out of here with my wife…" David warned.

"Watch me," he growled, as he pulled her through the house, but he used the chalice to blast him, before he could get out, releasing Snow.

"You blasted your own wife with the power of the chalice," Samdi said, looking on in awe, but was shocked to see that Snow was completely unscathed.

"No...I knew its power wouldn't hurt her," he replied, as he hooked his arm around Snow's waist and drew her into a passionate kiss. She smiled at him, as their lips parted and rested her head on his chest, as the stun from the chalice started to wear off Franklin and he stirred.

"Leave now...and I won't call the real police to tell them you broke into my home," Baron stated.

"And let him get away with trying to kill my wife? I don't think so," David growled. Samdi smirked.

"Fine...take him, but if you want to keep yourself and your precious Snow out of the eye of scrutiny, then you'll forget any charges against me," Baron stated. Regina hauled off and slapped him hard across the face at that.

"You're getting off this time...but don't make a move against my family again or you just might see shades of the Evil Queen again. And trust me...you won't like it," she warned, but he only smirked in amusement.

"My poor grandson has lost his mind...you should take him into custody before he hurts anyone else...or himself," Baron said.

"You...you're betraying me?!" Franklin cried.

"Nothing personal...but I'm afraid prison doesn't factor into my plans," Baron replied.

"I'll ruin you for this! I'll tell the whole world what a quack you are!" Franklin ranted, as David prepared to cuff him. As his back was turned to Baron, he didn't see him brandish the charm again.

"No...you won't, for we have discussed this matter with great scrutiny," he said, as the last word seemed to activate something in the younger Samdi, as his eyes glazed. David realized what he was going to do, but didn't get to the gun in time.

"No...don't!" he cried, as Franklin grabbed the gun beside him and shot himself in the head. Snow screamed, as he turned and blocked her view of the now gruesome sight. The carnage was even too much for Regina and she found herself heaving a bit to keep the bile back. If not for having seen stuff like this in his years as a cop, even David would have probably lost it too, but Samdi seemed unaffected by the carnage or death. David glared daggers at him.

"You murderer…" he growled.

"Oh no...he committed suicide," Baron stated and knew it would be ruled as such.

"He was a very troubled man...driven off the edge by one head case that plagued him and ruined his reputation," Samdi goaded, as he looked at Snow.

"Shut the hell up," David snapped, as he held his shocked wife.

"You may get away with this now...but it won't stand," David promised.

"Oh, you're going to have far bigger problems than me soon, Detective. You should call this in so a crew can come clean up this mess," he responded coldly. David glared daggers at him, as he made the call. They had the chalice now and could save Lucy, but it had not come without enduring another hellish night of trauma.

"They have the chalice...it's time,"

~*~

Drizella hung up her phone at that and looked back at her little sister. She found that having her back wasn't so bad when she was shunning her mother. It was truly just desserts for Victoria. She finally had her golden child back, only to be rejected quite completely. Drizella smirked and dialed a number.

"Detective Rogers...it's Ivy Belfry," she stated.

"What can I for you, Ms. Belfry?" Rogers inquired.

"I think my mother has done something terrible...and I can no longer sit by and let her get away with it," she stated.

"And what has she allegedly done?" he questioned.

"Go to Belfry Tower tonight and take the freight elevator to the 85th floor. All the answers you have been seeking are there," she replied cryptically.

"Belfry Tower is only 84 floors if I remember correctly," he responded. She smirked.

"Oh trust me, Detective. There's a 85th floor and all my mother's secrets are there," she said, as she hung up the phone with a devious smirk. Finally, her mother was going to get exactly what she deserved and the next phase of the plan could begin...

#Snowing #SnowxCharming #Charming family #OC Charmings #Snowing centric season 7 #season 7 #AU #Hyperion Heights #Roni #Weaver #Rogers #Dashing Rose #romance #adventure #family #finding you always #the epic continues

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solign0501 · 6 years

Text

You Were Maid For This

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Pairing:AU Bucky (Royal) x Reader (Peasant)

Summary: Prince Bucky has everything life could offer at his command, except somebody to share it with. The Reader’s mother works in the castle and manages to get you a job there, working for the spoilt prince. What happens when he discovers the only thing he ever really wanted is so close, but so out of reach?

A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting this but I was unwell - I hope this starts to make up for it?!

Bucky woke with a start the next morning, a thin sheen of sweat covering his skin, his mind still racing at the thought of that pretty face and those arresting eyes. Seriously, how had he never noticed you before? You were his servant, surely he can’t be that blind... can he?

A knock at the door startled him and he sat up suddenly in bed, a little ashamed of some of the thoughts he had been entertaining. He relaxed, however, as the familiar face of Fitz poked round the door.

“Ah, you’re awake sire,” he said with a smile before bustling in. “I thought I’d heard you moving.”

“Let me guess,” Bucky said with a sigh as Fitz opened the curtains, letting the intrusive daylight in. “We’ve got a busy day today?”

“As always, sire,” Fitz said with a smile. He looked at the Prince and took in his slightly dishevelled features. “Would you like me to draw you a bath first?”

“Yes,” Bucky said, standing up and stretching. The cool air from the corridor outside chilled the skin on his bare chest as he rotated his metal arm. He had lost it in the rebellion and originally a rudimental one had been attached, meant solely as a weapon by the Baron, like he was. Since peacetime, however, a much more robust and comfortable one had been made especially for him by Princess Shuri from the neighbouring kingdom of Wakanda to the south, allies of theirs and firm friends. Bucky cherished the cool feeling of the metal against his skin as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“How is the new maid settling in?” he asked, aiming for nonchalance. Fitz, a little surprised that the Prince had even noticed her, beamed widely.

“Oh very well, sire. She’s picking things up very quickly and she gets on great with the other servants and guards here. I think Daisy and Mack up in on the North wall are particularly fond of her.”

“That’s... good to hear,” Bucky said, nodding as he let Fitz put his bath robe over his shoulders. “And, where is she this morning?” he asked, feigning casual indifference.

“Just getting your breakfast, sire,” Fitz said truthfully. “It should be ready for you when you finish your bath.”

You waited patiently by the side table in the kitchen as your mother filled the tray in your arms with breakfast delicacies for the Prince.

“That should keep him going,” your mother said with a smile, placing a small plate of oat cakes on the only remaining bit of space.

“For at least two hours,” you remarked, earning a smile from her.

“Will you manage all that?” she asked, holding the heavy wooden door to the kitchen open for you to walk through.

“Yes mother,” you said, leaning up and giving her a quick peck on the cheek.

“Well, be careful,” she called after you. “And watch out on those stairs!”

“Yes, mother!” you called back. You picked your way slowly up the stairs, grateful to see that Fitz had left the door unlocked for you. With a slight push, it opened and you made your way over to the table, depositing the tray. You heard movement and a slight sloshing sound from upstairs and correctly deduced that the Prince was in the bath. You breathed a momentary sigh of relief for the peace as you busied yourself with your first few chores.

You made up the bed, picking up the discarded trousers and laying them folded atop the pillow for that evening. The bottom of the bedding was tousled and you recalled Fitz telling you that the Prince was prone to nightmares because of his experiences in the war. You allowed yourself a brief moment of sympathy for the man as you straightened the bedding and made sure it was pristine, before starting up the fire in the grate.

Once that was done, you set about laying out the breakfast on the table. You were so busy with your work that you didn’t hear the movement above you, or hear the soft padding of feet on the stairs. The first you realised you were not alone was when a low voice sounded off to your left, making you jump.

“Fitz, where is robe?” You looked up, startled, straight at the wet, naked form of the Prince, his modesty only saved by a conveniently placed chair at the end of the table. His eyes met yours and widened in panic as you frantically looked away, crimson to the tips of your ears.

Bucky let out a long stream of curse words and dove for the stairs, legging it back up to the bathing area, where he spotted the robe draped over the back of a small wooden chair.

Part of you wanted to laugh, the other to faint. True, you hadn’t seen everything, but you’d seen enough. He was beautiful. The flickering light from the fire had danced on his smooth skin and the hazy mid-morning sun that shone through the windows had brought his musculature into sharp, powerful relief. Even his metal arm held a strange beauty in the half-light. You had only looked for a split second, but the image was burned onto your eyelids and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake it from your mind.

Something stirred in the pit of your stomach, or possibly lower and you shuddered. He’s the Prince, you thought sternly to yourself, you need to stop this now.

Bucky, now modestly clothed and thoroughly embarrassed, came back down the stairs.

“I’m...” he began, not quite sure how to start. “I didn’t mean... I thought you were Fitz.”

“No, Your Highness,” you said demurely, not meeting his eyes or even daring to look in his direction for fear that he would see you blush again. “But I can fetch him if Your Highness needs him?”

“No, thank you,” Bucky said, rubbing the back of his neck again. This day was off to a great start. “I’m sure he’ll be back in a moment.” Bravery suddenly overtook him and he looked up at you. You stood stock-still by the fireside, looking resolutely at the ground and he used the moment to study you.

You were pretty, he had remembered that right, and fairly tall for a woman. Your servant’s clothes, though bland and poor, certainly did you a few favours. He wondered what your slender neck and graceful arms would look like in a more courtly gown.

Graceful arms? What the hell was he thinking? He sounded like a bloody minstrel! Disgusted, he pushed the thought out of his mind and focused instead on the food that you had laid out for him.

“Your mother works in the kitchen, is that right?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” you said, still not meeting his gaze. See, servant girl from servant girl stock - why he even entertained the thought of you in court clothes was beyond him. He must be over-tired.

“On second thoughts, find Fitz. I need to get dressed.” His tone was dismissive and you curtsied, turning to leave. “Oh and girl,” he said as you stopped dead, still staring a hole through the flooring. “I want you to bring me a book up from library, something boring. It might help me sleep tonight.”

“Does Your Highness have any preference?” you asked, daring a look back at him. He had his back to you as he stood over the table, the muscles of his broad shoulders visible under the robe. You felt yourself swallow hard as you remembered the colour of the skin beneath.

“I don’t know, just pick something.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” You gave one last quick bob as you raced out of the door. Bucky listened to your retreating footsteps heading for the stairs before collapsing into his chair. He’d spoken to you, that was a start. Your voice was soft, just like he’d dreamt. He wondered if your hair was that soft, or your eyes, or your skin... or your lips.

“Nope, no absolutely not,” he said aloud, the sound of his own voice startling himself in the silence. He pushed the thought frantically from his mind before yelling for Fitz.

You made your way, with a little help from some of the other servants along the way, to the East Wing of the palace which held the library. Jemma was walking down the corridor as you approached and she gave you a warm smile, faltering slightly as she saw the look in your eyes.

“Y/N, are you alright?” You smiled up at her, realising you must still look a little flustered. Glancing around first to see if there was anybody nearby, you opened up to Jemma about what had just happened.

“I just didn’t know where to look!” you almost cried, the red tinge returning again to your skin. You were worried it might become a permanent fixture after today.

“Oh I would know exactly where to look,” Jemma said with a smile.

“Not helpful...” you said through gritted teeth, which only made Gemma laugh.

“I know, I’m sorry. But you do have to see the funny side.” She was right, you conceded as you smiled. “So what are you doing down here then?”

“He sent me to the library, to pick him up something to read in bed tonight to help him sleep.” Jemma raised an eyebrow.

“He’s not normally the reading type, his insomnia must be quite bad.” You shrugged.

“Any suggestions on what he might enjoy?” you asked. Jemma shook her head.

“Personally I would just get him something you like to read, that way you can have a treat when you have a minute to yourself, that’s what I do.”

“You’re assuming I can read...” you joked, raising your eyebrows pointedly at Jemma, who had the sense to flush a little. “Don’t forget, I’m a peasant at heart.”

“By birth, maybe,” she said, smiling kindly. “But at heart you’re like the rest of us.”

“Underpaid and underappreciated?” you asked and you both burst out laughing.

“You’re really quite remarkable, Y/N Y/L/N,” Jemma said after a moment.

“Father always wanted my brother and I to do better than he did,” you explained. “So he would save up each year and buy us a book each on our birthdays. They were the best escape we had during the winter months and we would all read to each other or make up stories until it got too dark. I’ve always loved them.”

“Then you are in for a treat.” Jemma took your arm and steered you to a nearby door. “The King encourages us servants to use the library whenever we can, he believes in education for all. So, happy birthday Y/N.” She opened the wooden door and you gasped, your eyes filling instantly with tears of joy.

@soonlazymoon @fangirllover2000 @snuggleducky @sadanddeadsoul @vivianbabz @sawdustandsugar @wolfgamzee @marvel-fanfiction

#royal au #marvel #prince bucky #bucky x reader #leo fitz #jemma simmons #winter soldier #royal au marvel #bucky x you

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knittastically · 6 years

Text

A Lioness Amongst the Wolves Pt 22

First of all I hope you have all had a lovely Holiday in which ever way you chose and I wish you all a Happy, Peaceful, Healthy New Year for 2019.

I love to read your comments and if you could reblog that would be fantastic and much appreciated

If you would like to be added to or removed from my readers list just let me know and I will oblige. :)

As for this chapter there's just a liiiiiiitle bit of smut.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

Part 19 Part 20 Part 21

You can also find all chapters here on AO3

Raymond’s chest rises and falls beneath my cheek, I smile and press my lips against his skin as I do his arms tighten around me a little more. He did not so much invite me into his bed, rather he gave a silent crie de coeur and I could not refuse him. Within moments of pulling me into his arms and pressing a warm kiss to my temple he is drifting to sleep. I can't blame him, He's exhausted and in pain but selfishly a tiny little piece of my heart feels slighted that he chooses to close his eyes and do no more than press a single kiss to my temple.

Sleep may have come easily to Raymond but not to me. My mind whirls with what I saw as approached the stairs, each time I close my eyes I see Théo and Ghislane and wonder what they are to each other. I had once loved him Théo Fontaine, even though there were times when he treated me ill but best not to dwell on that and I am certain now that he never loved me. Deep down have always known that his whispered words of love and affection were nothing more than a sop thrown to me.

He was always a little ruthless, predatory even, now he appears more so and something about him sets my nerves on edge. Looking back, everything about our time together now seems a sham. Could the gossip about his wife be true, did he really murder her? I recall the expression on his face, when he realised I’d seen him and it was feral, I don’t doubt that he could have done it. Bile rises in my throat and I shiver as I wonder should I tell him about the child?

“No, it isn’t your business you bastard, you gave up any right to know when you walked away and abandoned me for a rich wife at court.”

My eyelids feel heavy. The gentle sound of Raymond’s breathing and the hissing of the rain is lulling me to sleep and I curl closer to him. All the while, as I have laid wrapped around him he has stroked his hand gently back and forth along my leg from thigh to knee as if it soothes him somehow. But as I rest my left hand against his chest, he moves his hand to lay it over mine. Raymond seems to sense my disquiet and tightens his other arm around me. I feel his warm breath as he mutters something against my hair. Drifting into sleep I realise what he has said.

*“Tu es ma vie, mon amour, mon cœur.ʺ*

It is not only Isabé who has noticed Théo and Ghislane, Eleanor has missed nothing. Without hesitating she weaves her way through the chattering crowd and towards the King. Philip is engaged in conversation but he sees her, gives the slightest nod of his head and the moment he is alone she steps towards him and curtsies. As she speaks quietly to him his expression hardly changes but his eyes grow hard and cold. “I will await you in my chamber Madame, best we discuss this in a more private setting.”

Théo watches her closely and shudders, Eleanor Forrestier is a dangerous bitch. Sweeping a quick glance around the room he catches sight of Ghislane in the shadows beneath the arcade, she nods to him the moment he catches her eye. When he looks back Eleanor has disappeared, melted away into the crush of people and the king is striding towards his chamber deep in conversation with the Baron.

Fontaine motions a page over to fill his wine cup then, strolls leisurely around the Hall, sharing a joke here, a laugh there, dropping in and out of conversations. Though beneath his veneer of affable good humour, he is as taut as a bow string.

By way of small rooms and narrow corridors known only to those who live within the Chateau, Eleanor has made her way to The King’s chamber. This visit may not be a Grand Progress for Philip but nevertheless the King is the King and his door is guarded by two well-armed soldiers. There is no bar though to Eleanor Forrestier, they know who she is and as one guard salutes her the other steps aside and pushes open the door. If she is surprised to see the Baron she doesn’t show it.

Philip has made this room his own, when he travels he doesn’t travel lightly even on a “private” visit such as this. The furnishings have been replaced with his own trappings. Folding seats, a throne like chair, linens, red and gold hangings and even a bed which can be taken apart for travelling. All are painted in bright blue and rich red, accented in gold. His own wine cups and ewers are set on the table, a gilded, jewelled reliquary and small but ornate crucifix are set on the larger of his personal travelling chests. Yes the King’s possessions reflect his power, wealth and status but Eleanor finds them overpowering, gaudy, and to her eye a little tasteless. They make the room feel even more oppressive in this sultry weather.

Philip himself pours wine for Eleanor and hands her the cup, there are no servants present though she is certain he has someone closeted behind the door to the adjoining room.

“So Gauthier, do I take it you approve of Raymonds choice of wife?”

Gauthier de Merville glances across to Eleanor, he has always liked her, admired her even and this must be at least a little painful for her, yet she smiles at him over the rim of her wine cup.

“I doubt anything I could say on the subject would carry any weight with my son Majesty, he is a grown man and knows his own mind best, though if I’m honest I think despite her confidence Isabé might not prove a match for him.” He stares pointedly at Eleanor she glances from Philip to Gauthier and back to Philip and laughs.

"Monseigneur, I’m sure Isabè will prove to be a most suitable wife for Raymond, whereas I, most definitely would not that. She already has his measure and will never be a simpering little wife.” Eleanor takes a sip of her wine. “More than that she will give him give some stability and be a fixed point in his life. It’s what he needs and it is something I can’t provide, as you well know it doesn’t sit well with our particular profession.”

“As wise as ever Eleanor” Philip smiles she nods her head in acknowledgement. Both men know very well what that little speech has cost her and for few moments there is a regretful silence hanging in the air.

“Now with respect Majesty, I think we should turn to more important matters.” It is rare for Eleanor to show her true feelings but neither Philip nor Gauthier miss the catch in her voice

"So, Eleanor, tell us, what is your opinion?” Philip is always is direct. “Do you fear for Raymond’s safety?”

“Yes, and also for Isabé’s. Guillaume is back in the fold and is no longer a problem. Geoffrey Maçon is gone but those two are a real force. If what we know is true then they have a wide network. I’m sure you are already aware that information about your troop movements to the South have already made the ears of the renegades.”

Philip nods and smiles at his well-informed agent.

"Indeed Eleanor and sensibly Ramon of Toulouse has already joined us and helps to keep us well appraised, he values his own safety too highly to defy the Church but his Nephew Trencavel, is another matter and he is holding fast against His Holiness.”

The Baron snorts “Trenceval always was and always will be a fucking fool.”

“We are all fools at one time or another Monseigneur” Eleanor’s retort is sharp” “If you really want my honest opinion, I think his Holiness is the biggest fool of all. If his Church can’t stand a little competition from the Cathars then so be it”. She shrugs “This has been rumbling for years why he doesn’t he just let it pass, who are they harming?”

Philip is a devout man but nonetheless he admires Eleanor’s stand, he is even a little amused by it and tries to supress a smile.

“Have a care Eleanor.” The Baron’s voice rumbles around the room. “Heresy is a serious matter, should anyone outside these walls hear your words, it is likely you will be arraigned and executed.”

She raises her eyebrows and smiles sweetly. “Baron, you and I both know that a charge of Heresy would simply be one more entry at the end of a very long list of my transgressions and possibly not the worst.”

Studying both men closely she addresses the King.

“What are you not telling me Sire?

“I think this is mostly your story Gauthier.” Philip yields to the Baron.

"As you wish Sire”

Frowning, Eleanor looks from one to the other as Gauthier de Merville takes a swallow of wine.

“Eleanor you may or may not know that Théo Fontaine and Ghislane Bérenger are Mother and son.

“I did not know” Her voice is calm and she hides it very well that she is furious with herself for that gap in her knowledge.

“That information was known to me,” Philp smiles at her, “And to Gauthier, Individually each of them is dangerous.” Philip shakes his head “Together they could well prove lethal”

“It was also known to my darling Marguerite, God rest her.” Gauthier cuts in. Eleanor smiles, it is not often the Baron refers to his late wife, let alone in such affectionate terms, even after almost 30 years he still feels the pain of her loss more deeply than most people imagine.

“Ghislane’s husband was Luc Roussel one of my best men, possibly the best. Fierce, brave and I thought loyal, he rose high and fast. My trust in him was unfounded and I had him executed when he was found to be passing information to our enemies, not just in Ireland but elsewhere. Rather than lay the charge of treason against him he was tried and convicted on charges of looting and murder. He never revealed anything to us and went to his death laughing.”

Eleanor twists the stem of her cup between long fingers, a tingle runs down her spine and she is uneasy.

“I assume the lesser charge was to try draw out any other agents, or to give them false security?”

“Both”. Philip and Gauthier answer together.

“And was Ghislane one of those other agents?”

Now that the king is seated, Gauthier follows suit, he takes a swallow of wine. “There was no evidence against her.”

“Simply because you could not discover any Monseigneur does not mean....”

Gaulthier cuts her off sharply. “Nothing was discovered because at the time there was nothing to discover Madame Forrestier.”

“Your pardon Monseigneur.” Eleanor bows her head and yields to him as he continues. “Ghislane damned near lost her mind at Luc’s death and became too ill to serve in her new position as Marguerite’s companion. I arranged for her to be lodged at the convent where they could care for her. When the child was born she wouldn’t nurse him, didn’t even want to look at him and so he was fostered out to the Fontaines to be brought up by them. She was in a poor, ravaged state of mind for some time and for her own reasons has always maintained she never had children.”

“How fortunate Monseigneur, forgive me, but that kind of madness can be feigned and she could easily have given up her child to the Fontaine’s knowing that he would be cared for and she would have easy access. A child can be a hindrance to someone like Ghislane”

Eleanor and Gauthier hold each other’s look and Eleanor could kick herself for having said that aloud, she and Ghislane are two sides of the same coin but she could never give up her daughter.

“Has Nicolette ever been a hindrance to you Eleanor?” As soon as the words leave his lips the Baron regrets it.

“I believe you can answer that for yourself Monseigneur.” Eleanor narrows her eyes at him for a moment then returns to the matter in hand.

“But why bring Ghislane back here?

“I felt I owed her something, in spite of what Luc had done so why not bring her here to take up the post she had been offered, especially as Marguerite was most unwell.

“Why did she take up her Maiden name of Bérenger?”

“I have no idea, perhaps she thought people would assume she wanted nothing more to do with the name of Roussel. I admit to having being deceived by that conniving bitch but it was only much later the extent of her treachery was discovered though it was decided that she should be allowed to live.”

“Why? Surely it would have been a very simple matter Monseigneur.”

"Because I forbade it.” At the sound of Philip’s soft, silky voice Eleanor turns to her King.

“She had been the one in complete control, not only of Luc, but of many others. Her network of contacts and agents was impressive in fact second to none and it was certainly in our own interests to recruit her as a double agent.” “We gave her just enough accurate details to make her seem credible. But for some time her information seems to have been either outdated, false or at the least tenuous.” As he looks down at the floor Gauthier suddenly feels very old.”

“So Sire, on a whim you allowed her to continue passing information resulting in the needless deaths of our own men.”

An expression of anger passes across Philip’s face, disappearing almost as quickly as it appeared.

“I do not act on whims Madame Forrestier, and as for needless, I think of it as sacrificing the few for the many.”

“Oh the hubris of Kings.”

Eleanor thinks as she shakes her head and anger burns in her, she itches to slap her Sovereign for his arrogance in playing with the lives of his agents and soldiers.

“Are you telling me that this has been going on for almost thirty years, God men are such fools.”

Philip does not react to Gauthiers anguished voice when he grinds out “I am inclined to agree with you on that point Eleanor, I am certain she murdered Marguerite.”

Eleanor gasps out loud.

“It could never be proven, Marguerite was in such pain with her illness that it needed a strong draught to dull it, who can tell whether it was enough to end her life?”

Gauthier’s face pales at the memory, his hand trembles as he lifts the wine cup to his lips.

“I believe in my heart she was responsible, I believe it was revenge for the death of Luc and I think that apart from anything else her mind never fully healed and it is failing again, I fear for all of my family.” He smiles at Eleanor, “That of course includes you my dear” he takes hold of her hand and raises it to his lips.

“What of Theo, what is his purpose?” She frowns up at the Baron but it is Philip who answers.

“He is driven by ambition and revenge in equal measure he wants to be near the throne to work against it and I have no doubt he intends to make suffer anyone involved in his father’s execution.”

“Well stepping into Maçon’s shoes has certainly secured his advancement.”

“Indeed Madame, and to have him close is preferable to keeping him at arm’s length, as for you Gauthier I should keep a close watch on Ghislane, and take steps to safeguard your granddaughter and your daughter-in-law, they could prove easy targets.

Before the Baron can answer, one thump rattles the heavy door, it swings inwards and the Guard begins to announce Théo Fontaine

“Imbecile, I am His Majesty’s Envoy, he knows who I am.”

As he strides in the guard scowls at his back. Théo presents himself to the King, then turns to the others with a smile that makes him look like a benevolent bat.

“Monseigneur Baron, he extends his hand and grudgingly the Baron takes it.

“Fontaine.” Gauthier’s greeting is cold enough to freeze the pizzle off a bull.

“Théo, welcome." Eleanor crosses to greet him, a wonderful if fake smile plastered on her face. “It is an age since we saw each other and the first time since you arrived that I have had the chance to properly welcome you.” She holds out her hand, he clasps it and smiles a tight little smile.

“As beautiful as ever Eleanor.” Then as he stoops to kiss each cheek whispers.

“Is really your place to welcome me to the Chateau Eleanor, you are no longer Raymond’s Mistress so you hold no authority but I will accept your good wishes.”

The smile sets on Eleanor’s face as she answers quietly “Indeed that is true enough, however I am still the Mother of his child and I know he would defend me had he cause to do so.” It is a threat and though politely put Théo understands completely. Blanche say she knew when I was happy as a child because when I slept I lay on my back. Always with my left arm shoved up under the pillow, my right hand resting on my stomach. It follows then that I am happy.

I don’t want Raymond to know that I’m awake yet. He lays on his uninjured side with his left arm under the pillow and hand curled gently around mine. His right arm is draped across me, long calloused fingers gently tracing swirling patterns on my right hip. Our feet and legs are tangled together and I feel content to lie here in the warmth of the early morning.

There is a hint of a laugh in the warm breath that ghosts against my ear as soft words roll out.

"I know you're awake Isabe."

I lie still and don’t answer.

The hairs of his beard tickle my skin as he brushes gentle kisses along my ear ending in a nip to the lobe. A shiver runs through me and the smallest purring sound lodges in my throat as I turn my head towards him and slowly open one eye.

“How could you tell?”

“By your breathing, the sound and rhythm of it, by the way your breasts rise and fall.” His blue eyes are dark, hot, full of mischief and desire.

“You are talking nonsense!” Suddenly I am aware of the warmth of his skin where it presses against mine and feel heat rising in my cheeks.

“Oh I have been very thorough in my study Isabé, in fact I would say it verges on the scholarly.” He smirks like a naughty schoolboy and as he shifts and slides down the bed a little his grin broadens. Through half opened eyes I watch him as he dips his head, deliberately grazing his beard against the pale skin of my right breast.

“For instance I believe this one is a little larger than the other.”

I stare down wide eyed now and mesmerised as he licks at his lips then latches them onto me. My mouth drops open and a little mewl of surprise squeaks out. He does not nip, scrape or bite but lazily licks his tongue around and over my nipple coaxing it to hardness, before one last flick and a whisper of warm breath over the damp skin.

Sharp and sweet an ache shoots straight down me and stalls between my thighs. Without taking his eyes from mine he slowly strokes his right hand up over my belly and ribs and cups it around my right breast. The lightest brush of his thumb over the already tightening tip sends another jolt through me, my thighs tighten of their own accord, my skin tingles and raises into gooseflesh.

He is certainly not Theo, for I could have said “no” to Raymond and he would have stopped, I'm certain of it.

"But I hadn’t wanted him to stop, you I couldn’t pretend otherwise."

Nonetheless, I try to convince the both of us that I am annoyed and so I swat him smartly across the back of his head.

“You Sieur Raymond are very forward!”

His roar of laughter bounces from the walls.

“Isabé, I swear to God you are the only woman on Earth I know who could say that and mean it, whilst lying naked in my bed"

He shifts and winces.

“It still pains you?”

“Not so much now.”

“You idiot.” I rest my hand against his face and stroke his beard. “You should have woken me, I would have mixed you something to ease it.” He presses his lips against my palm.

“There was no need.” Lids close over blue eyes, dark lashes flutter against his cheeks for a moment, he sounds almost embarrassed and he flushes a little as he speaks again. “Thank you Isabé for having the courage to stay with me.” As he tightens his arms around me he frowns.

“Mon Coeur, your poor face, am I to blame for that?”

His lips are gentle against my cheek.

“You couldn’t help it, I told you it was an accident.”

“You did? I don’t remember that.” He whispers “but then I rarely remember” there is a sad resignation in his voice.

“I take it there’s a bruise?”

He looks down at me with a rueful smile. “Yes a large one it’s a very pretty shade of purple and you have a lump the size of a sparrow’s egg.”

“Well no doubt it will be a sickly shade of green come Saturday. I only hope my veil will hide it.”

There is laughter in his voice again. “So you have decided to marry me?”

“Yes and I only hope I don’t come to regret it.” I begin to laugh. “What a pair we make, I am naked in your bed and you are as bare arsed as the day you were born. Tongues will surely wag, not that I care one way or the other.”

I shuffle higher up onto the pillows and Raymond hitches up beside me settling on his side, head propped in his hand. He reaches across to tuck strands of hair behind my ear and there is a sober look on his face.

"Let me clean the cut for you?”

“There really is no need Raymond, I can tend to it later.”

“Stubborn as ever.” He presses another gentle kiss to the cut. “Do you really not care what anyone might think of you for staying with me?”

“No one’s opinion of me has ever mattered overmuch.”

“Not even mine?” He grins at me again and as his eyes lock onto mine he strokes his fingers along my shoulder leaving burning trails on my skin, I stare straight back at him.

“No, not even yours, why should it? After all you don’t really know me” He seems more than a little taken aback at that, as if he expects me to simper and solicit his approval, if does is then he will have a long damned wait. His voice is subdued when he answers.

“I know enough of you Isabé, to know you are brave, clever, strong minded to the point of wilfulness and you are kind.”

It is my turn to laugh.

“You make me sound like a candidate for a nunnery, though I doubt I’d last very long, I’d certainly spend more time doing penance than anything else.”

He snorts, “Hellfire, Henri, would have to pay through the nose for them to take you, I doubt they’d even consider you without the promise of a vast acreage and half your body weight in gold.”

“Wretch.”

I catch him unawares and with one quick push overbalance him, as he falls he wraps his arms tight around me holding me to him and as he lands on his back I am sprawled across him our faces almost touching. Warm skin settles against warm skin and I can feel the beat of his heart, it is certainly faster than before.

“Full marks for effort Mon Coeur but none for execution, always make sure you know the strength and skill of your adversary.”

"Bastard.”

He threads the fingers of his left hand into my hair and my oath is lost in his sweet kiss as he pulls me even closer. I feel his other hand slide down over my backside and under my thigh hitching it up.

“You do know I love you Isabé?” His voice is no more than a whisper.

Mischief is in my mind, I wiggle out of his arms and boldly straddle his thighs.

“You’ve already said as much to me but love is a convenient little word Raymond, people use it when they mean it of course they do, but they also use it to get something they want. In all honesty I can’t say I love you.”

His expression doesn’t change.

“But I will concede that I have grown to like you and you are a very handsome man, the scars on your face and body do nothing to change that.”

I lean forward a little and slide my hands up his thighs, making sure my thumbs brush the edge of the dark thatch of hair and slide along between thigh and hip. His swelling cock twitches and a hiss of breath escapes him.

I slide my hands down and then back up his thighs. Suddenly I freeze and hold my breath, shocked by my own bold and reckless behaviour, aware of the heat and muscle of his thighs beneath me, conscious of our nakedness. Nevertheless as I look down at him I am unable to stop myself licking at my lips and when I look back up at him his eyes are burning hot.

Now I feel daring, fearless a delicious sense of wantonness surges through me. “I know you want me Raymond.” My voice slides out throaty and low.

“Yes my darling of course I do, can’t you tell” he winks, laughs and glances down at himself “I want you as much as you want me and you do want me Isabé, I can feel your heat and wetness against my thighs.” His voice is like warm honey, at the sound of it the heat flares through my body again and the ache between my thighs is almost painful but it is such a sweet pain. I stare down at him and gnaw at my lower lip to stop myself from smiling.

“Dear God in Heaven, Théo Fontaine falls very short of Raymond in every way.”

Emboldened again I brush the back of my hand up the soft skin of his cock then trail just one index finger back down the thick vein. His head tilts back his breath sighs out slowly and as I stroke him gently he grabs at my hips.” Tilting forward I slide my hands up to his chest his nipples harden at my touch, he growls as I rake them with my nails and shivers when drop forward to swirl my tongue around each one in turn. As I lick at the hollow of his throat I taste the saltiness of his skin and the low throaty noise Raymond gives out sounds like the purring of a large cat.

“Isabé, you know that if you stand too close to a fire you are like to get burned and believe me girl I can and will burn you.” I shudder at his words even though his voice is soft and his hands are gentle as he strokes my back and hair, quietly he adds. “But never, ever, fear me Isabé never.”

His beard tickles my lips as I kiss his chin. “I know yours can be a hard life Raymond, your work for the King makes you an assassin, spy, soldier and all of these put you in danger. Doubtless this won’t be the only time you return home wounded, but when you left me to go to Paris, you left me burning for you.” His eyes darken a little, there is a feral look in them and I hesitate for a moment.

“That day I would have let you fuck me against that wall out there with the whole Chateau watching us and I would have felt no shame.” His hands grab at me and he digs his fingers hard into the flesh of my backside. There is no innocence in my kiss, it is savage and he gives back the same in return but winces as I rake his lip hard between my teeth. He digs his fingers in even harder

“Bitch you’ve drawn blood” he licks at the inside of his mouth.

Sitting up quickly I slide back onto his thighs, curl my fingers lightly around him and stroke gently up and down barely touching his skin.

“No Théo Fontiane does not measure up in anyway at all.”

“Sweet Christ Woman.” he grabs at my other hand lacing his fingers between mine.

“Raymond your leaving I can bear, any woman who weds a soldier must learn to do that but believe me when I say that if you ever, for whatever reason, lay with a whore again you had best make sure she leaves no marks on you because I swear by the Holy Mother, I shall geld you. The only woman who has the right to mark you is me.”

There is his smirk again but his eyes blow wide and dark with anticipation as I hover over him and make as if to kiss his chest. When sink my teeth hard into his left breast he yelps with surprise but simply strokes at my hair as I suck and bite the livid mark into his flesh the mark I know he wants me to make. I lick at the bruise, touch my lips to it, blow my breath over the almost broken skin.

“You should heed your own advice in future Raymond and make sure you know your adversary.”

Swiftly I scramble from the bed and keeping well out of his reach, snatching up my shift to pull it on quickly then I worm and wriggle into my dress, and gather up my veil, hose and shoes. Raymond has made no attempt to hinder me but I can feel his eyes on me, when I glance at him my heart thuds.

“Stay.” His voice is thick, almost pleading, and his eyes gentle. “Isabé, for God’s sake.” he stretches out his hand to me and looks down. Even beneath the sheet he has pulled over himself, his arousal is still clearly visible.

“I have work to do Raymond or have you not heard there is to be a wedding on Saturday? I nod at the sheet covering him. “You could try tying a knot in that it might help.” He shoots me an evil look then his lips curve into a smile and he raises his left brow. “Saturday, cannot come soon enough for me Isabé but remember, there are many hours between now and then.”

I understand him completely and I’m certain he has seen both longing and lust in my expression before I turn away from him.

It would be so easy to return to his bed but without another word or look I leave quickly, closing the door quietly behind me. Something has eased around my heart, and I race back to my own chamber before I change my mind. *”You are my life, my love, my heart.”*

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knittastically · 6 years

Text

A Lioness Amongst the Wolves Pt 9

As always thank you for reading, I love to read your comments and if you could reblog that would be fantastic.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

The Chateau resembles nothing so much as a Barracks. For too long it has been the domain of hard bitten soldiers who are used to the privations of life and who give little thought to comfort and even cleanliness to some degree. The grubby, grimy Hall reminds me of a faintly malodorous kennel. For long enough there has been no women living here with a high enough status to bring about any great change.

That will soon be remedied and as I sit at table, I cast my eyes along the dusty walls and up into the gloomy heights of the roof space, where the beams are adorned with dust and dangling cobwebs. The wall above the large fireplace is greasy and smoke blackened also every inch of the floor will need to be scrubbed. I know what needs to be done, we will start high and work down to the flagstones, not an easy task for this is a space almost a 100 feet long and half that in height and width. All of that dust and grime must be removed for I will not have my wedding feast in a hovel.

Eleanor is not present at the evening meal and I am glad of it. At the Baron’s request I am seated between him and Raymond whilst Geoffroy seated to Raymond’s right and so is not too near me thank God.

“Monseigneur Baron, I have a favour to ask of you, it concerns the preparations for my wedding”

“But of course Isabé, how could I refuse my future daughter-in-law?” He smiles indulgently “Though I am sure that Fournier has everything in hand with regard to the guests, the food and anything else, he is nothing if not thorough”

“Oh, of course I am sure he has and I mean no slight against him. I will speak with him tomorrow but this is a particular request and concerns the cleaning of this hall, you must surely admit that it is unkempt even a little squalid”

Baron de Merville takes no offence and laughs. “Isabé my dear” he takes hold of my right hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. “How can I refuse your pretty face and your smile hein? “Do whatever you need to do, if it makes you happy then I am content” If I am stunned at his easy response, Raymond is even more so and chokes back a laugh.

“Father, to give Isabé free reign may not be wise, I believe you have handed her the very stick with which she will beat you”

I scowl at him and earn a smirk in reply.

The Baron shrugs. “It is of no matter Raymond and I would have my daughter-in-law happy in her new home, what say you Raymond?”

For certain there is some challenge being laid down here, cold blue eyes stare into cold blue eyes. Surprisingly Raymond is first to look away and the matter is closed.

Every look and smile from Raymond makes my face burn. His very nearness reminds me of how he made me feel only a little while ago. But he is courteous, attentive and makes sure I have everything I need, when he talks with me his voice is low and soft. Listening to him speak to his father and his friends I realise that he is much more than just a soldier. Oh yes Raymond is an educated man, he has an appreciation of fine things, a love of words, a quick mind, it seems I am forever learning something new and surprising about this man.

As is usual after the evening meal, everyone moves from their place at table to join with their friends in the body of the hall. Here they pass the time with in conversation, laughing and joking, sometimes gaming or making music. Or perhaps hey discuss the business and the politics of the day, only the men of course, for we women are not considered intelligent enough to understand the machinations of the world, if only they knew just how little escapes us.

Raymond stands together with his father and Geoffroy Maçon. Though they converse with lowered voices their conversation seems intense and Raymond’s jaw is set firm as he listens to Geoffroy. Mathieu Descoteaux and Guillaume stand close by and from time to time exchange worried glances with each other. Slowly I try to move closer, but the few women of any status who reside here are hovering around me vying for my favour and approval. All that is, except for Ghislane and Jehanne who, when I glance at them are busy with their own conversation damn them, just when I need to be rescued from this onslaught of sycophancy, chit chat and feminine idiocy.

Finally I do manage to move close enough to overhear some of what Raymond is saying, his voice is brusque and he speaks rapidly. I’m sure they think I can neither hear nor understand what they are discussing but I was raised in the house of a soldier and know how to listen carefully. Raymond uses the words contract, mission and assassin, he talks of preparations and secrecy, Geoffroy reassures him all will be well, that the King will reward him handsomely and the Baron hisses that he would rather his son comes home alive. I try to make no sign that I have heard the exchange but the words fill me with dread and I shudder as if someone has walked over my grave.

I am aware that the chatter around the hall is dying away and I look over my shoulder to see that Eleanor has entered through the main door. That must mean that she has been given quarters in either the North East or the South East tower, well away from Raymond’s chambers.

As she moves further into the hall with a slow and stately tread, I see she is wearing the same midnight blue gown as before but her veil is finer and the circlet securing it to her head is a delicate, narrow band of gold. Around her waist a leather girdle, I can only assume the buckle and tip are also gold and it is decorated all along with mounts in the shape of flowers, each one with a pearl at its centre. No whore she, but a woman of status, Raymond has kept her in fine style and in spite of myself I can’t help but admire her bravado. Ahh she knows her worth.

Silence follows in her wake as she walks farther into the hall, I half expect folks to bow as she passes, such is her air of dignity. The fingers of her right hand curl lightly into the fabric of her gown, lifting it just clear of the floor and her left hand? Well those fingers are clasped around the hand of a child, a little girl with the creamy complexion of her mother and the same dark hair as both her sire and her dam. She skips alongside with a sweet smile on her face, which makes her cheeks puff out and they glow like blushed peaches. The cornflower blue of her dress mirrors the colour of her eyes, which in turn exactly match the blue of Raymond’s.

Nicolette is unmistakeably their child, an acorn who did not fall far from the tree. Suddenly she breaks from her Mother and runs towards Raymond as fast as her little legs will allow. “Papa, Papaaaa!” she flings herself at him and in one move he scoops her up in his arms and swings her around, not caring that those standing close by need to step back out of the way as they laugh together. “Ah I knew my day had been too quiet you little hoyden, what mischief have you been up to? That, it seems is not for the telling, she smiles coyly at him and loudly proclaims. *“Je t'aime père, et tu es si beau”1 The laugh from Raymond is loud and joyous. “One day you little baggage you will twist some unsuspecting man around your fingers and I know for certain who will wear the britches in your household!” then more quietly he adds. *“Je t'aime aussi mon petit moineau”2

Nicolette twines her arms around his neck and I catch the look on his face as they laugh together, a wide smile that lights his face, reaches to his eyes and she giggles as he kisses the tip of her pert little nose. He is smitten, he adores her and rather than set her down he settles her on his right hip, not the usual behaviour of a stern Father but I am slowly beginning to realise that Raymond is not the usual kind of man. Nicolette tucks herself into him and rests her head against his shoulder, I suspect she has this old soldier well and truly in the palm of hr hand.

Watching intently as Eleanor approaches I am aware of the glances shifting from her, to me and back again. Halting a mere pace away from Raymond, she bows her head low and drops the deepest, most elegant curtsey I have ever seen before tilting her face upwards to look at him.

“Sieur Raymond, I have a request that I hope you will consider favourably” Eleanor keeps her tone measured and calm, but I notice that some of the warmth has left Raymond’s eyes.

“Then ask it and you shall have your answer one way or the other”

She hesitates at his tone and a momentary flash of panic flits across her face, but she holds firm.

“Raymond I have come to ask that you give Nicolette your name, that you formally accept her and acknowledge her as a de Merville.” Silence, absolute silence. I see Nicolette wriggle and before Raymond can answer Eleanor, a little voice pipes up.

“Papa, why did you not come to see me today?”

That indulgent smile comes back. “You know I cannot always come to see you Nicolette my sweet” “Will you come tomorrow?” “I cannot little bird, tomorrow I must go to see the King and will be gone for some days”

Her face crumples into a pout, but at a kiss on her cheek from her beloved papa and she smiles settling against him once more as he turns his attention back to his Mistress.

“After 5 years why do you chose this moment to ask this of me Eleanor, have I ever denied that I am Nicolette’s Father and why chose to do it here rather than quietly in private? Nicolette wriggles and he sets her down but she will not leave his side and clings to him with her chubby fingers clutching at the fabric of his tabard. Raymond looks down at her, smiling as he gently strokes his large hand over her hair.

A slight flush of anger settles on Eleanor’s face and she rises from her curtsey hazel eyes lock onto blue. “True, you have never denied her as your daughter Raymond, though neither have you taken great pains to admit to it” she hisses softly. “As for the other, It may as well be here as anywhere else and whatever your answer I shall have witnesses.”

The tension between them can be sliced with a knife. Quietly I move across to Raymond’s side, curling my fingers around the balled fist that is his left hand I gradually work my fingers between his, he begins to relax.

Eleanor stands tall, proud and strikingly beautiful in her dark gown, whereas with my silver hair and dressed in pale grey, no matter that both the cloth and the cut are of the finest, I feel like a plain little colley dove compared to her.

“Raymond,” I smile up at him. “Agree to this, you know it can only be for the good” “Isabé, this is not your concern.” His voice is level and cool. “I am making it my concern” My own voice is clipped “Have you not already lectured me on the subject of Mothers protecting their children?” He closes his eyes for a moment and when he opens them again he answers Eleanor in a firm voice that carries around the hall.

“I agree, let all here know that I accept and confirm Nicolette as my daughter. When I return from Paris it will be done according to law but from this moment she will be Nicolette de Merville and is to be acknowledged as such. Are you content Eleanor?” The angles and planes of his face are like stone.

She steps forward places her hands against his cheeks and draws him into a kiss, a deep, hungry, passionate kiss pressing her body firmly against him. Then my world is shattered, as Raymond frees his hand from mine and cups it around the back of her head as he holds her in a tight embrace returning her kiss with equal fervour and desire and there they stand Mother, Father and child. I turn on my heel fixing a tight little smile on my face and with a steady pace head towards the great door. Ghislane and Jehanne are rigid with shock, the other ladies twitter and prattle amongst themselves. As I reach the steps to the courtyard I begin to run and head straight for the stables. One of the boys scrambles to his feet as I enter.

“I need Athène, don’t bother with her saddle”

“But Mams’elle are you sure?”

“I’m sure, I was taught to ride by a soldier, a bridle will suffice so long as you hitch me up” In no time I am on her back and racing towards the gates, yelling at the guards to open them but they are slow and I have to reign up sharply. “It is urgent, let me pass.”

“It is well past curfew Mam’selle we cannot open the gates”

“For God’s sake shift your arses and let me pass.”

“Now, Now, there’s no need for that my pretty, what’s the rush, off to see your young man eh?” One of the younger guards’ sidles up to me a smirk on his lips.

“My name is Isabé Pelletier, soon to be wife of Sieur Raymond.”

“Not so likely now though, the bastard”

The guard looks again.

“Sweet Christ, so it is, beg pardon Mam’selle.” “Open the gates lads and let the Mam’selle through”

They slide back the bar, swing back the heavy gates and as soon as the gap is wide enough for me to pass through without smashing my knees against the solid wood, I touch my heels to the mare and she springs forward clattering across the bridge over the moat. Already I hear Raymond yelling for them to stop me. Too late, I am away, riding without a saddle is no hardship for me.

Although it is late evening, there is still enough light to see, for it is no darker than dusk. At this time of the year the sun barely goes down before it is rises again and the night sky never grows truly black. I ride hard and fast not caring about the direction and for the second time that day I lose my veil and my hair streams out behind me. Tears do not come for I am too angry even to cry and I feel as if my heart will explode in my chest, all I want is to be away from here so I kick on down the track towards the river keeping the wood to my right hand side. As I ride I call Raymond all the foul names I can bring to mind and I sing them over in my head in rhythm with the horses gait. Bastard, arsehole, whoreson. Perhaps one day I shall have to control my “Sailor’s” mouth but not today, and I ride on towards the Seine.

“This is the last kiss, the last embrace you shall ever have from me Eleanor” Raymond whispers, “It seals our bargain do you understand me?” Eleanor nods, she dare not challenge him when he has that cold look in his eyes. “Live quietly Eleanor, you will want for nothing and if you should wish to marry then you shall have my blessing and a good dowry, this is the way it must be from now on.”

“Isabe” Raymond turns but she is not there “Where did she go?” he growls at Descoteaux

“Towards the courtyard Sieur” and Raymond is on his way.

“Isabe” he yells out her name as he reaches the steps. “Fuck. Raymond you are an idiot, a damned fool”

The stable boy steps out “Sieur, Mam’selle Isabé has already left” Ignoring him, Raymond strides into the stables and selects Diable. He will be best, fast over shorter distances and sure footed over any terrain. He has the bridle on and is leading the huge beast out of the stalls by the time the boy returns with the saddle.

“No need for that” Raymond vaults up then crouches low over the horse’s neck as he rides out of the stable. This time there is no hesitation from the guards and they pull open the gates as he approaches. Once over the moat, he slowly reins the horse around in a full circle scanning the land through narrowed eyes. “Sieur Raymond,” A voice rings out and he looks back to the gates. “Mam’selle looked to be riding towards the river” Raymond raises his hand in acknowledgement and with a slap of the reins to Diable the stallion springs forward and they hurtle down the road enveloped in a cloud of dust. Suddenly he catches sight of something pale and crumpled on the ground. Dismounting he reaches to retrieve it from the dusty road. A veil, Isabé’s no doubt, he breathes in the faint scent of roses which marks it as hers. Carefully he folds the cloth and tucks it inside his undershirt, where it warms against his skin.

“Christ I am behaving like some greensick boy” he laughs at himself but had he listened carefully he would have heard the ice around his heart start to shatter and slide away.

The riverside is not a sensible place to be for a woman on her own at this time of night, I have no desire to be mistaken for whore not even a high class one, and the girls themselves would no doubt take great exception to a new face on their territory. I slow Athène to a walk, rein her up and slide from her back realising my mistake as soon as my feet hit the floor. As elegant as they are, my thin soled house shoes made of soft blue leather would not last the walk back to the Chateau, and walk I must for unless I find a mounting block of sorts then my skirts will hamper me getting back onto the horse.

“Shit, this is your fault Raymond de Merville. Fuck you, damn you to Hell, I hope the King does not let you come back, I hope he makes you marry a disease ridden half-wit with pock marks and missing teeth. I hope you rot in Paris.”

Athène shakes her head, glances sidewise and snickers at the crazed woman yelling at the sky, before resuming her cropping of the sweet grass. So I settle myself on the bank at the side of the road, draw my knees up to my chest and rest my chin on them as I consider my choices, needless to say they are few. The River Seine is to my right now, in front of me the town and the Cathédral and to my left the road back up to the Chateau and if I am honest with myself that is my only option.

Before I have chance to decide, the last person on earth I want to see is heading towards me at speed and there is nowhere I can hide. He reins the horse in beside me and dismounts on the wrong side.

“Isabé,” He stands only inches away from me his arms loose at his sides an expression of self-reproach fixed on his face. “Isabé ride back with me” Raymond reaches forward to take my hands but I snatch them back out of his reach.

“Oh you have such gall Sieur Raymond, such arrogance” I feel my anger growing and burning. “I’d sooner ride back with the Devil and his host than ride back with you, the company would be more to my liking”

“I’m not sure the Devil would share your view on that Isabé, he might find you too spirited for his taste” The smirk on his face provokes me into delivering a hard wallop across his cheek. His head jerks sideways a little but he makes no move towards me, simply closes his eyes for a moment before he speaks.

“You should have stayed Isabé, if you had, you would know that I have put Eleanor aside”

“Mother of God that is not what I expected to hear”

“Indeed, so am I to understand that putting a Mistress aside requires you to embrace her and kiss the breath from her lungs?

He does not seek to defend himself further but reaches out to tuck a long strand of hair behind my ear, then trails his fingers slowly down my neck before he lets them rest lightly on my shoulder, I turn away from him but he steps closer behind me.

“I ask again, ride back with me Isabé.” Raymonds voice is lower now and I cannot ignore its effect on me.

Strong fingers brush against the back of my neck as he pushes my hair aside his warm mouth presses gently against the skin below my ear, followed by the smallest nip of his strong sharp teeth. I can’t help but shudder and a contented purr slips from my lips. There is nowhere else I can go, I am caught wedged between him and Athène.

“Help me up.” Gathering the reins up I place my left hand on her withers, my right on her back and bend my right leg back for him to grasp.

“I asked you to ride with me, not beside me Isabé” his right arm clamps tighter around my waist, his words are still soft, his breath still warm and he gives anther nip, harder this time to the shell of my ear. I hitch my breath again and he chuckles at my response.

I nod briefly, he shifts his horse round then lifts me up, hands me Athénes reins and vaults up behind me. The journey home is slower. Raymond settles his left arm around me and holds the reins in his right. Our bodies sway in unison with the movement of the horse, my back against his chest, the insides of his thighs pressed against the outside of mine.

“Damn, I lost my veil riding out here, have you not seen it Raymond?”

He evades the question and changes tack.

“Your pale hair is a glory to behold Isabé but your brows are dark, how so”

I pull a face and shake my head. “It has always been I have no idea why, it’s just the way it is.”

Raymond pulls me tighter flattening my back against him, without my noticing he switches the reins into his left hand but I certainly notice now, as he strokes the long, strong fingers of his right hand along the inside of my thigh and I shiver, and shiver again as he kisses my ear and nips at the lobe then whispers in a low purr, which is most definitely not the purr of a contented house cat. “Tell me Isabé, shall I be surprised If I find that your hair is also dark elsewhere hein?” The undisguised desire in his voice melts my bones, I feel my face start to burn and beneath my gown the flesh of my thigh is on fire from his touch, I gasp, my words barely make it out of my mouth as I try to keep my voice as level as possible.

“That, depends upon your definition of the word surprise, But you will find out soon enough Sieur Raymond”

“That will be my pleasure Isabé and yours too I hope.”

I don’t answer but he does not lift his hand from my thigh as we ride back in a sweet and contented silence.

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