Dream Sequence The Citadel The Citadel

Post by Spira on Oct 4, 2021 4:26:19 GMT

“Tu ne dois pas coucher avec eux. Si tu insistes, elle doit être du même statut et tout aussi pure. Vous l'épouserez.”

{You are not to sleep with them. If you insist she must be of the same status and just as pure. You will marry her.}

"They will think I am a eunuch."

Lucas muttered under his breath, he winced as his mother tugged his hair to and from with her horsehair brush. He stared blankly at the silver coated mirror as his mother reached for the powder. Cringing away from it and swatting at her gloved hands he leapt up from where she had insisted he sit and walked several paces away. She had been going on for days that his job at Versailles was to be his father's assistant and to ensure he did not do as his father had done and bed half of the whores in court – resulting in three younger siblings that were labelled as bastards and therefore illegitimate. Worse still, his mother on insistent that he be trounced up like a bloody show pony, as he approached the window he looked out over the estate that would become his one day.

“Pas de ce bâtard d'anglais non plus. Vous êtes français ! Ton père n'aurait jamais dû t'envoyer au loin. Maintenant tout ce que tu fais c'est parler cette langue. A la cour, vous devez parler français.”

{None of that bastard English either. You are French! Your father should have never sent you away. Now all you do is speak that language. At court, you must speak French.}

That was another thing, his mother hated the English and hated when Lucas strayed away from French. It drove him partially insane but he also couldn’t afford to anger his mother and lose the opportunity to flee to a place where he was not constantly being told about the breed-able qualities of a proper French maiden. He found it slightly amusing when she cursed at his paleness, blaming the British sun for his appearance and that he really ought to add rouge to his cheeks – he disagreed and he partially wanted to correct her regarding the sun, alas anything remotely British was always to blame for everything wrong in the world according to his mother – which was ironic considering she had been born and raised in the countryside of England herself. Again, he bit his tongue as one of the servants whose name always managed to knot his tongue announced that the carriage to take him to his father had arrived. As a terribly scratchy wig was shoved on his head, along with a dusting of white and pink powder; Lucas partially wished he had never said yes to coming home from America. As he hugged his mother for what would feel like the last time, he was pushed up and into the carriage which almost immediately began to move – despite his protests that he hadn't yet sat down. There were other things too, like the fact he already had a lover and he was hellbent on leaving all of this pomp and stress behind for her. Reaching into his pocket – which thankfully his mother hadn't inspected he placed the small piece of velvet against his nose, though it only now smelt faintly of Amarjeet, it was the memory that was imprinted on the velvet that Lucas himself was now reliving.

|Two years ago|

"Are you not in danger being here? You are British are you not?"

He inspected the rolls of fabric that this apparent store of fabrics was trying to promote as wholly American. Alas, the stitching was all wrong, all of this had to be from the East Indies or in the very least some part of Europe that did not include England, France or Spain. He placed down the sample and continued after Amarjeet who was inspecting something entirely different... scissors? As he came to a stop just behind her, he leant against her, his head resting on her shoulder; allowing him to see what she saw and to some small extent to skim over her thoughts – he did his best to never stop and listen, he didn't want to know what she was thinking, it made things unfair between the two. She's so beautiful, I could stay here forever... just with her and never have to go home. Never have to leave her. He dreaded the thought as she pointed and asked about prices, he had received a summons from his mother five months prior and was trying to stall as much as he could so he could spend more time with Amarjeet. It was easy enough, feigning illness, lack of funds... all kinds of things, rebellion, etc. Here, at least in the colonies of the new nation of America, he was free. As they finished inside the store, they walked alongside each other. It was an odd sight to be sure, their skin colours weren't the only point of difference. People could tell he was French, and because they could tell he was French he was treated like some hero – he was no hero, and he certainly had, had no role whatsoever to do with their revolution against the British King. Is this love, that I feel? She is a part of me as much as I am a part of her. There was also the issue that they were both unsupervised teenagers, in France it would have never have flown and perhaps not even in England.

"I am glad we met here, in the land of free. To think we would not have met if I had said no to seeing the colonies." He blushed

Reaching for her hand, he grasped it gently, he wished he could touch her with his bare hands and yet he did not want to intrude... it had been a quick adjustment on her part when he told her that he could not touch her unless she wanted her most private thoughts taken from her mind and placed in his own – that hadn't stopped the occasional embrace or a chaste kiss on the cheek. Lucas partially if not wholly felt that he was going to marry Amarjeet and to hell with the consequences. I may be disowned for this indiscretion but I do not care. As long as I am with her...

|Present|

"Oh by the lord himself, what the hell are you wearing boy?"

His father looked about as pissed off as his schoolmaster when he came home swearing like a positive sailor. His father ripped the itchy wig off and began to wipe off the powder that his mother had applied in haste, until Lucas looked a little more like himself rather than one of his mothers many China dolls. As he wiped his lips and shuttered, his father continued to make accusations towards his wife – well more so estranged wife. As he was led into the series of apartments that his father resided in within the palace of Versailles – he had barely had a chance to examine anything, let alone stop to admire the view. Once they were alone and his belongings shifted to another room, his father forced him to sit, more sitting... why he inwardly groaned.

"Tais-toi, mon garçon. Nous sommes à Versailles. Nous avons un travail à faire et c'est de protéger le Roi et la Reine des forces qui cherchent à leur nuire. De plus, nous devons préparer le palais à les accueillir, eux qui viennent de rentrer de leur lune de miel. Ils seront fatigués et tout le monde essaiera de les séparer. Dis-moi, tu peux encore parler français ? Oui ? Bien. Va découvrir qui sont les personnes les plus importantes dans cet endroit abandonné des dieux et fais-moi un rapport. Ne vous perdez pas et si je découvre que vous avez réussi à vous faufiler dans les quartiers des domestiques ou là où sont les putes, je vous tuerai moi-même."

{Shut up boy. We are in Versailles. We have a job to do and that is to protect the King and the Queen from forces that aim to harm them. Furthermore, we must prepare the palace to greet them, having just arrived back from their honeymoon. They will be tired and everyone will try to break them apart. Tell me, can you still speak French? Yes? Good. Go find out who is now the most important people in this god forsaken place and report back to me. Do not go getting lost and if I find you have managed to sneak into the servants quarters or where the whores are I will kill you myself. }

Why his father hadn't breathed during that whole rant. Lucas nodded in silent submission, when it came to his father it was just easier to nod and do as asked. As he was left to his own devices, he quickly changed into something more simple – it would be far easier to blend into the working class of the castle then to try and ask questions or procure information if he looked like a Prince. Grabbing his scissors and tucking one into his sleeve and the other into the upper right of his left boot, he started on trying to figure out exactly what it was his father wanted from him.

As he turned the corner and ran down the stairs, he found himself tripping over the last step at the scent, it was stronger... more alive and definitely close by. Turning around as if to try and find the smell again, his heart began to pound. It could not be, she could not be here... could she? He placed a hand at his chest, to try to stop the hammering. Is she here? Where is she then? I can smell her? Does she know I am here? Did she come to find me? His ears keenly focusing in on two men, ambassadors strolling past and commenting on a new British pair of courtesans that the Queen had brought with her. A female and a male. Deciding it was best to follow them to listen to their discussion, one of them sounded perturbed that the Queen had sent the female ahead of time to make sure the palace was entirely safe.

"Excusez-moi, les deux courtisanes. Où sont-elles?"

{Excuse me, the two courtesans. Where are they?}

One of them gestured in the direction of the throne room and the other in the direction of the Queen's soon-to-be apartments, with no clue as to whether or not the male or the female had gone in either direction. Biting his tongue he decided to just follow his nose; and that meant having to avoid crashing into people or looking like an utter fool as he did so. She's somewhere here. If I can just follow her scent. I hope she does not mind seeing me here... She might be mad at me.... I haven't been able to respond to her letters. She probably thinks I've moved on or worse that all of our time spent together was just a game to me. Oh I hope not...

stoopdo	helios
mal	gideon

Dream Sequence

Post by Spira on Oct 3, 2021 6:51:34 GMT

Post by Spira on Oct 4, 2021 4:26:19 GMT