A Bewildered Heart
Jan. 23rd, 2017 12:16 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scripsiTitle: A Bewildered Heart
Fandom: Versailles
Rating: Mature
Genre: Drama
Word Count: 1627
Chapters: 1/?
Characters/pairing: Fabien Marchal/Sophie de Clermont.
Warnings: None so far
Summary: Sophie de Clermont is settling down to her new role in life, but Fabien Marchal still disturbs her peace of mind. If not exactly the same was as before.
AN: This is a sequel to a story called Show Me. The observant may notice I have not been completely faithful to a few historic facts. But then the TV series is not completely faithful either, so I felt I could bend facts to suit my story.
Sophie de Clermont danced in the ballrooms of Versailles. She played cards, gossiped, embroidered, took walks, went to church and discussed hair and gowns and accessories with her friends. Always smiling, the same shy smile and blushing cheeks of the innocent girl she had once been. She often felt the sweet face she saw in her mirror belonged to someone else, someone who still cared for little else than the excitement over a new pair of shoes.
And while she spent her time like the other ladies of court, Sophie watched everyone around her. She watched the King, like they all did, but she also looked around, studying those who wanted the King to see them. The more she watched, the more she saw. The invisible threads of connections which made the court of Versailles a web of promises, lies and machinations unfolded in front of her eyes, and she was amazed how little she had noticed before. It intrigued her, and spurred her to find out more, feeling a secret joy when she made a new connection, or realised something no one else had noticed. She was among the first to realise Madame de Montespan was going to have a baby, and if anyone else than her knew the King sometimes slept with Mademoiselle des Œillets, then they kept quiet about it.
But then there was this one man no one else than her observed. When Fabien Marchal walked through the crowds of the court, no one looked at him. The highborn lords and ladies moved away from him, parting like the Red Sea, while they averted their eyes. His attention was feared, and he walked unhindered, wrapped in silence. Only Sophie turned around to see him pass her as if she was only empty air.
On the surface very little had changed between them. Sophie was still summoned to give her reports, and nothing was said between them which touched anything else than the information she brought. But she no longer felt afraid he would throw her out on a whim. As long as she fulfilled her obligations, she was safe. And though Fabien was as brusque as ever when he spoke to her, he had stopped belittling her. She had also been given directions, of sorts, which was another change.
“You are friendly with Madame de Montespan. That’s good. I want you to keep herself close to her and tell me everything she says.”
“Why? She is the King’s favourite.”
“For now. When her star fades, and it will, do you think she will go quietly?”
Sophie thought of Madame de Montespan’s ambition and how cruel her wit could sometimes be.
“I understand.”
It was not a difficult task to achieve. Madame de Montespan had always treated her with a somewhat disinterested kindness. She responded to Sophie’s seeming adoration with a place in her household. And as Sophie never vied for the King’s attention, Montespan enjoyed her company more and more. The King’s mistress was jealous, and it suited her to have ladies around who did not try to compete with her.
For Sophie life felt more secure, and as she grew more used to the changes of her situation, she relaxed a little. The habit of praying daily for Beatrice’s soul made the grief over her mother easier to manage. It was still hard to cope with the knowledge of who her mother had really been and what she had done, but she suspected she would find it hard for the rest of her life.
But try as she might, Sophie could not find any equilibrium for her feelings concerning Fabien. If she did not hate him as she had once done, her emotions were confusing and impossible to define. He never alluded to the night when they had laid with each other, which Sophie at first had found a relief. As time passed, she found it more and more frustrating. In bed, at night, she could not stop herself from thinking of what had transpired between them, and how Fabien's body had felt against her’s and how his hands and mouth had put her on fire. All too well she understood Chevalier's teasing now, as she let her own hands caress herself in the darkness. She had never dared to touch herself like this before, but now she thought of what Fabien had done to her and her fingers seemed to find their way on their own. Sophie found the glorious moment where the world tipped around her again, but it didn’t feel quite the same. It felt like something was missing. Like someone was missing. There must be more to it, more things one could do, but her imagination was lacking. And there were no one she could talk with about it as a young unmarried girl wasn’t supposed to know anything about the dealings between a man and a woman.
Even though being in Montespan’s circle provided Sophie with protection against unwanted attention, there were still moments when she walked alone through a hallway or a corridor. It was on one of those occasion the Duke of Cassel cornered her in a passage. He bore down on her with an unpleasant smile, and Sophie found herself blocked against a wall with the Duke standing much too close to her for comfort.
“What do you want?” Sophie asked in a clear voice, hoping it wouldn’t betray how uncomfortable he made her feel. Cassel frowned.
“Not so loud, Mademoiselle. You wouldn’t want people to hear what I have to say.”
“I don’t? It seems it's you who don’t want to be overheard. And I don’t think I want to know your secrets- I’m sure they are not suitable for me to listen to.”
Cassel looked sulky.
“Suit yourself. I have only your best interest at heart, my dear. I know a few things about your mother. Things which would make your continued presence at court very unsure if they were known. Or worse, you might face prison, or even death.”
Sophie looked down, and bit her lip, thinking furiously. She was not threatened the way he thought. It was unlikely he could provide any information the King did not already know. But her place at Versailles hinged on the pretence that Beatrice had retired to the country due to her health. If Cassel spread around rumours which contradicted this, her usefulness would be compromised, and then everything Fabien had threatened her with could happen.
“Oh no, you mustn’t tell anyone,” she said breathlessly. She looked up at him with wide eyes and hoped she looked properly frightened. It must have succeeded because he pressed a little closer to her.
“I could be persuaded not to. Believe me, I have no wish to cause such a pretty little thing any unpleasantness.”
His hand hovered over her bosom, finally settling on running a finger along the edge of the decollete. Sophie couldn’t suppress a shudder of disgust and his smile turned predatory.
“I’m sure we can find a few things you can do to make me happy.”
Cassel’s face was red and his breathing hard. Sophie thought she had never met a man who was more repulsive, but she could not let him talk about her. If there was no other way than to let him have her, then she would do it, but perhaps it would not be necessary. His concentration was now fully on the white swell of breast visible over the neckline of her gown, his loathsome touch venturing higher to bare skin. He was sure of his prey now, she could see that. Young and scared Sophie who Madame de Montespan had dangled in front of his nose, only to snatch away again. She had been so afraid of him when they first met in his castle, but a lot had happened since then. Sophie stood straighter and raised her chin.
“Funny, I used to think you were the worst thing that could happen to me. I was so intimidated by you. But you know I’m quite friendly with Madame de Montespan nowadays, and she has told me all about you. How you are so inadequate you can only perform with frightened little girls who has nothing to compare you with.”
Sophie leaned closer and whispered in his ear. “I will tell you a little secret; I can compare you with someone who is far more terrifying than you can ever be.”
Cassel’s smile disappeared and his eyes flickered to the side.
“There’s another thing I find funny. You are a Duke and still, I have heard, you sleep in a broom cupboard. Your position at court is not very stable, is it? While I live in a large chamber with windows overlooking the garden. I wonder why that is so. Perhaps I have friends you can’t afford to irritate.”
Sophie’s heart was beating fast and despite her words she was not sure it would be enough to drive Cassel away. But then she took a step forward, causing him to step back, and triumph rose in her.
“I see I was mistaken,” he said abruptly and turned and scurried away.
He didn’t see what Sophie had not seen either until he moved from her view. Fabien Marchal was standing only a few yards away, close enough to have heard every word which had been said. Sophie met Fabien’s gaze, and he held it steadily for a few moments. Something which might have been a smile flickered over his face, then he gave her a small bow, completely without irony. Then he left and Sophie remained alone in the deserted corridor knowing that even if help had been an arms length away, she had conquered Cassel all on her own.
Fandom: Versailles
Rating: Mature
Genre: Drama
Word Count: 1627
Chapters: 1/?
Characters/pairing: Fabien Marchal/Sophie de Clermont.
Warnings: None so far
Summary: Sophie de Clermont is settling down to her new role in life, but Fabien Marchal still disturbs her peace of mind. If not exactly the same was as before.
AN: This is a sequel to a story called Show Me. The observant may notice I have not been completely faithful to a few historic facts. But then the TV series is not completely faithful either, so I felt I could bend facts to suit my story.
Sophie de Clermont danced in the ballrooms of Versailles. She played cards, gossiped, embroidered, took walks, went to church and discussed hair and gowns and accessories with her friends. Always smiling, the same shy smile and blushing cheeks of the innocent girl she had once been. She often felt the sweet face she saw in her mirror belonged to someone else, someone who still cared for little else than the excitement over a new pair of shoes.
And while she spent her time like the other ladies of court, Sophie watched everyone around her. She watched the King, like they all did, but she also looked around, studying those who wanted the King to see them. The more she watched, the more she saw. The invisible threads of connections which made the court of Versailles a web of promises, lies and machinations unfolded in front of her eyes, and she was amazed how little she had noticed before. It intrigued her, and spurred her to find out more, feeling a secret joy when she made a new connection, or realised something no one else had noticed. She was among the first to realise Madame de Montespan was going to have a baby, and if anyone else than her knew the King sometimes slept with Mademoiselle des Œillets, then they kept quiet about it.
But then there was this one man no one else than her observed. When Fabien Marchal walked through the crowds of the court, no one looked at him. The highborn lords and ladies moved away from him, parting like the Red Sea, while they averted their eyes. His attention was feared, and he walked unhindered, wrapped in silence. Only Sophie turned around to see him pass her as if she was only empty air.
On the surface very little had changed between them. Sophie was still summoned to give her reports, and nothing was said between them which touched anything else than the information she brought. But she no longer felt afraid he would throw her out on a whim. As long as she fulfilled her obligations, she was safe. And though Fabien was as brusque as ever when he spoke to her, he had stopped belittling her. She had also been given directions, of sorts, which was another change.
“You are friendly with Madame de Montespan. That’s good. I want you to keep herself close to her and tell me everything she says.”
“Why? She is the King’s favourite.”
“For now. When her star fades, and it will, do you think she will go quietly?”
Sophie thought of Madame de Montespan’s ambition and how cruel her wit could sometimes be.
“I understand.”
It was not a difficult task to achieve. Madame de Montespan had always treated her with a somewhat disinterested kindness. She responded to Sophie’s seeming adoration with a place in her household. And as Sophie never vied for the King’s attention, Montespan enjoyed her company more and more. The King’s mistress was jealous, and it suited her to have ladies around who did not try to compete with her.
For Sophie life felt more secure, and as she grew more used to the changes of her situation, she relaxed a little. The habit of praying daily for Beatrice’s soul made the grief over her mother easier to manage. It was still hard to cope with the knowledge of who her mother had really been and what she had done, but she suspected she would find it hard for the rest of her life.
But try as she might, Sophie could not find any equilibrium for her feelings concerning Fabien. If she did not hate him as she had once done, her emotions were confusing and impossible to define. He never alluded to the night when they had laid with each other, which Sophie at first had found a relief. As time passed, she found it more and more frustrating. In bed, at night, she could not stop herself from thinking of what had transpired between them, and how Fabien's body had felt against her’s and how his hands and mouth had put her on fire. All too well she understood Chevalier's teasing now, as she let her own hands caress herself in the darkness. She had never dared to touch herself like this before, but now she thought of what Fabien had done to her and her fingers seemed to find their way on their own. Sophie found the glorious moment where the world tipped around her again, but it didn’t feel quite the same. It felt like something was missing. Like someone was missing. There must be more to it, more things one could do, but her imagination was lacking. And there were no one she could talk with about it as a young unmarried girl wasn’t supposed to know anything about the dealings between a man and a woman.
Even though being in Montespan’s circle provided Sophie with protection against unwanted attention, there were still moments when she walked alone through a hallway or a corridor. It was on one of those occasion the Duke of Cassel cornered her in a passage. He bore down on her with an unpleasant smile, and Sophie found herself blocked against a wall with the Duke standing much too close to her for comfort.
“What do you want?” Sophie asked in a clear voice, hoping it wouldn’t betray how uncomfortable he made her feel. Cassel frowned.
“Not so loud, Mademoiselle. You wouldn’t want people to hear what I have to say.”
“I don’t? It seems it's you who don’t want to be overheard. And I don’t think I want to know your secrets- I’m sure they are not suitable for me to listen to.”
Cassel looked sulky.
“Suit yourself. I have only your best interest at heart, my dear. I know a few things about your mother. Things which would make your continued presence at court very unsure if they were known. Or worse, you might face prison, or even death.”
Sophie looked down, and bit her lip, thinking furiously. She was not threatened the way he thought. It was unlikely he could provide any information the King did not already know. But her place at Versailles hinged on the pretence that Beatrice had retired to the country due to her health. If Cassel spread around rumours which contradicted this, her usefulness would be compromised, and then everything Fabien had threatened her with could happen.
“Oh no, you mustn’t tell anyone,” she said breathlessly. She looked up at him with wide eyes and hoped she looked properly frightened. It must have succeeded because he pressed a little closer to her.
“I could be persuaded not to. Believe me, I have no wish to cause such a pretty little thing any unpleasantness.”
His hand hovered over her bosom, finally settling on running a finger along the edge of the decollete. Sophie couldn’t suppress a shudder of disgust and his smile turned predatory.
“I’m sure we can find a few things you can do to make me happy.”
Cassel’s face was red and his breathing hard. Sophie thought she had never met a man who was more repulsive, but she could not let him talk about her. If there was no other way than to let him have her, then she would do it, but perhaps it would not be necessary. His concentration was now fully on the white swell of breast visible over the neckline of her gown, his loathsome touch venturing higher to bare skin. He was sure of his prey now, she could see that. Young and scared Sophie who Madame de Montespan had dangled in front of his nose, only to snatch away again. She had been so afraid of him when they first met in his castle, but a lot had happened since then. Sophie stood straighter and raised her chin.
“Funny, I used to think you were the worst thing that could happen to me. I was so intimidated by you. But you know I’m quite friendly with Madame de Montespan nowadays, and she has told me all about you. How you are so inadequate you can only perform with frightened little girls who has nothing to compare you with.”
Sophie leaned closer and whispered in his ear. “I will tell you a little secret; I can compare you with someone who is far more terrifying than you can ever be.”
Cassel’s smile disappeared and his eyes flickered to the side.
“There’s another thing I find funny. You are a Duke and still, I have heard, you sleep in a broom cupboard. Your position at court is not very stable, is it? While I live in a large chamber with windows overlooking the garden. I wonder why that is so. Perhaps I have friends you can’t afford to irritate.”
Sophie’s heart was beating fast and despite her words she was not sure it would be enough to drive Cassel away. But then she took a step forward, causing him to step back, and triumph rose in her.
“I see I was mistaken,” he said abruptly and turned and scurried away.
He didn’t see what Sophie had not seen either until he moved from her view. Fabien Marchal was standing only a few yards away, close enough to have heard every word which had been said. Sophie met Fabien’s gaze, and he held it steadily for a few moments. Something which might have been a smile flickered over his face, then he gave her a small bow, completely without irony. Then he left and Sophie remained alone in the deserted corridor knowing that even if help had been an arms length away, she had conquered Cassel all on her own.
