A Wind in the Door [Part I ; (2/2)]
anonymous
January 16 2010, 15:50:14 UTC
The man sat back with an extravagant sigh. “I’d rather eat tar than wait this out with that old prude.” Alix looked to him questioningly, and so he just laughed-a rich, warm, and ironic laugh. “Look, Mademoiselle-don’t give me that look; it’s my language and I’ll speak it as I please-I think you take me for a noble, but I assure you, I am not. My family has never held a title in France.”
“…what is it, if I may ask? Your family name?”
“Bonnefoy,” he replied loosely, and then continued, “And as for ‘my kind’-I arrived here with them. I’m part of the mob, you see.”
Alix’s eyes widened, and she couldn’t quite stifle a gasp. “Then you were there when they took Papa!”
Citoyen Bonnefoy gave her a shrewd look. “About five foot ten, with blue eyes like yours and the same nose, but brown hair, not blonde?”
Alix nodded dumbly.
“Don’t fret; he’s safe.” As Alix breathed a sigh of relief, Citoyen Bonnefoy coughed. “Dammit,” he murmured under his breath.
“Why did you come, if you were in such a state?”
“Oh, this?” he asked laughingly, indicating himself with one elegant gesture of his hand. “I’ve been sick for ages, ma chère. But I always seem to forget, that when my people die, it takes it’s toll…”
His eyes grew misty, and he shook his head as though to clear it. “Well, anyhow-as soon as the bloodletting is over, I shall be quite well again.”
“Blood…death makes you sick?” Alix asked in confusion.
“Something like that.” He chuckled again, but, seeing her expression, his eyes softened and he patted her on the head. “Don’t worry, Mademoiselle. I feel it will be over, soon.”
He rose to his feet, brushed off his britches, and headed for the barn door. Alix caught his hand, however, and pulled him back. “You’re not well yet,” she insisted. “At least spend the night here. Please stay…until Papa comes back.”
“In a barn?” he asked quizzically. But he sighed in resignation. “I suppose I’ve seen worse.”
Alix kept vigil over him that night, returning to the house at intervals to convince Giselle she was alright-just staying with the spooked cows, she told her sister. She knelt by Citoyen Bonnefoy’s humble bed, but it was not long before she fell asleep beside him. He awoke momentarily and smiled, wrapped one arm around her, and pulled her close. In that chaste embrace, they both slept until morning.
But when she awoke to the cocks’ morning song, he was already gone. He’d left a lily in her hands, in his place.
--- -- The Reign of Terror was the most radical part of the French Revolution. Since the urban working poor, or sans-culotte, were demanding cheep bread, the revolutionary government went into the provinces and executed farmers accused of hoarding grain. -- “Toinette” was a pet-name for Marie Antoinette, the former Queen of France who would have been, at this time, a prisoner in the Temple after her husband’s execution. -- Inter-class differences and injustices were a main concern of revolutionaries. So they did away with all titles and formal language, and insisted that every person be referred to as “Citoyen” or “citizen.”
…so, this was originally planned to be a series of drabbles on each character OP requested. But now I think I’ll write them all as full-fledged oneshots like this, if this one was palatable.
“…what is it, if I may ask? Your family name?”
“Bonnefoy,” he replied loosely, and then continued, “And as for ‘my kind’-I arrived here with them. I’m part of the mob, you see.”
Alix’s eyes widened, and she couldn’t quite stifle a gasp. “Then you were there when they took Papa!”
Citoyen Bonnefoy gave her a shrewd look. “About five foot ten, with blue eyes like yours and the same nose, but brown hair, not blonde?”
Alix nodded dumbly.
“Don’t fret; he’s safe.” As Alix breathed a sigh of relief, Citoyen Bonnefoy coughed. “Dammit,” he murmured under his breath.
“Why did you come, if you were in such a state?”
“Oh, this?” he asked laughingly, indicating himself with one elegant gesture of his hand. “I’ve been sick for ages, ma chère. But I always seem to forget, that when my people die, it takes it’s toll…”
His eyes grew misty, and he shook his head as though to clear it. “Well, anyhow-as soon as the bloodletting is over, I shall be quite well again.”
“Blood…death makes you sick?” Alix asked in confusion.
“Something like that.” He chuckled again, but, seeing her expression, his eyes softened and he patted her on the head. “Don’t worry, Mademoiselle. I feel it will be over, soon.”
He rose to his feet, brushed off his britches, and headed for the barn door. Alix caught his hand, however, and pulled him back. “You’re not well yet,” she insisted. “At least spend the night here. Please stay…until Papa comes back.”
“In a barn?” he asked quizzically. But he sighed in resignation. “I suppose I’ve seen worse.”
Alix kept vigil over him that night, returning to the house at intervals to convince Giselle she was alright-just staying with the spooked cows, she told her sister. She knelt by Citoyen Bonnefoy’s humble bed, but it was not long before she fell asleep beside him. He awoke momentarily and smiled, wrapped one arm around her, and pulled her close. In that chaste embrace, they both slept until morning.
But when she awoke to the cocks’ morning song, he was already gone. He’d left a lily in her hands, in his place.
---
-- The Reign of Terror was the most radical part of the French Revolution. Since the urban working poor, or sans-culotte, were demanding cheep bread, the revolutionary government went into the provinces and executed farmers accused of hoarding grain.
-- “Toinette” was a pet-name for Marie Antoinette, the former Queen of France who would have been, at this time, a prisoner in the Temple after her husband’s execution.
-- Inter-class differences and injustices were a main concern of revolutionaries. So they did away with all titles and formal language, and insisted that every person be referred to as “Citoyen” or “citizen.”
…so, this was originally planned to be a series of drabbles on each character OP requested. But now I think I’ll write them all as full-fledged oneshots like this, if this one was palatable.
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My drabbles are gonna look like crap compared to this.
OH FRANCIS! *Wibbles*
I hope OP does not mind some South Ireland drabble? (I like SI as a male)
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