The End of the Story, chapter 4
Nov. 18th, 2018 01:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scripsiTitle: The End of the Story
Fandom: Versailles
Rating: Teens
Chapter: 4/?
Word Count: 916
Characters Sophie de Clermont, Fabien Marchal
Pairings: Fabien Marchal/Sophie de Clermont
Warnings: None yet, will probably not change
Summary: Sophie de Clermont returns to Paris with a warning to Fabien Marchal, only to find she might be too late.
AN: This fic will spoil all three seasons of Versailles.
The whole fic on AO3
Sophie and Michel rode for several minutes until they were sure no one at the coach could hear them anymore before they changed direction to meet up with the other men at a pre-arranged point. To Sophie’s relief, Fabien rode on his own horse, though he seemed tired and slumped in his saddle. The two other men, still masked and nameless, left without a word, and they slowly made their way back to the cabin. When they finally arrived, Michel saw to the horses and Sophie and Fabien entered the house.
Fabien sat down on a stool, his movements heavy and slow. His hair was longer than Sophie had seen it before, hanging tangled and matted around his face. His neat moustache and beard had all but disappeared into a full bear as he had not shaved for a long time. Sophie bustled around, heating soup, cutting bread, and warming water for washing. Despite knowing his time in prison must affect Fabien, she hadn’t realised he would be so changed. He had always been the one in control, and now his passivity felt strange and uncomfortable. There were no allusions to their last conversation though Sophie knew it could only be a temporary respite.
When she gave him a bowl of steaming soup, Fabien hesitated, giving her a cautious look.
“I can taste it first if you are afraid I will poison you.”
He looked at her for a few moments longer, but then he ate, gulping down the food in a haste which caused Sophie to worry he would eat too much too quickly.
Michel entered the house, only to bid farewell. “I will return in a few days. If I don’t, well, don’t linger here.”
He clasped Fabien’s hand and nodded to Sophie and departed. They both listened to the sound of hoofbeats disappearing, and then Fabien stood up.
“Is the water warm enough?”
“I think so. I will leave you alone.”
“There is nothing here you haven’t seen before.” And then, after a brief pause. “I could do with some help.”
Sophie dressed down to her chemise to not spoil the silk of her court gown with water spots. She felt a little shy; not because of the state of undress they both were in, but because the situation was so strange. There was no bath in the cabin, but Sophie had found a large tub Fabien could stand in while she poured bucket after bucket of water over him. The sight of him without clothes deepened her worry; he was too thin, and there were fading bruises all over his body. And, even more horrifying, the still unhealed mark of a stylized lily, burned into his arm.
“What have they done to you?”
Fabien shrugged. “Nothing I haven’t done to others myself.”
But Sophie who knew more of what Fabien could do than she wanted to, did not feel reassured by his words.
He more fell into the bed than climb into it, asleep at once. Sophie studied him in worry, lamenting how gaunt and wretched he looked. But he was not running a fever, and Sophie thought his ordeal had merely exhausted, rather than permanently harmed him. Sleep and food would most likely restore him. Then she mopped the floor and packed away her fine clothes. A last farewell to the Duchess of Cassel; she was sure she would never use that name again, and it felt like a relief. The night's adventures were catching up with her and exhausted she slipped into the bed beside Fabien. He stirred, but only to move closer to her. Sophie put her arm around him, nestling close and soon fell asleep.
For a night, a day, and another night, Fabien slept. Sophie shook him awake from time to time to make sure he ate and could see to his bodily needs, but he fell asleep again as soon as he could. But then, the second days morning he spoke as Sophie cooked porridge.
“I didn’t know you could cook.”
Sophie smiled at him over her shoulder, relieved to see him awake by his own accord. “I’ve been in a convent since you last saw me. I learned many things there. Cooking and gardening I liked well enough. The praying- not so much.”
“No, I can’t imagine you would.”
Fabien still spent most of the day in bed, taking long naps, but Sophie didn’t have to wake him up anymore. He consented to Sophie combing out the snags in his hair and to cut it, and he also shaved with evident relief. The next day he woke up with her and said would feed the horses. Sophie let him though she peeked through the small window to make sure everything went well. But though he still moved in a slow and deliberate way, he didn’t seem as exhausted anymore.
When he came inside again, he went to his chest and pulled out his weapon. With his sword and knife in place he seemed to fill out, looking like himself again.. He turned to Sophie who had watched him in silence. She knew what was coming now, but somehow she didn’t feel scared.
“You saved me. Why? Why did you come back?”
“Because I love you. There was no other choice than coming.”
“Don’t you remember what I said to you when I last saw you?”
“Every word.”
He held up the door. “Let’s go.”
With no protests, Sophie went past him, into the sunshine outside.
Fandom: Versailles
Rating: Teens
Chapter: 4/?
Word Count: 916
Characters Sophie de Clermont, Fabien Marchal
Pairings: Fabien Marchal/Sophie de Clermont
Warnings: None yet, will probably not change
Summary: Sophie de Clermont returns to Paris with a warning to Fabien Marchal, only to find she might be too late.
AN: This fic will spoil all three seasons of Versailles.
The whole fic on AO3
Sophie and Michel rode for several minutes until they were sure no one at the coach could hear them anymore before they changed direction to meet up with the other men at a pre-arranged point. To Sophie’s relief, Fabien rode on his own horse, though he seemed tired and slumped in his saddle. The two other men, still masked and nameless, left without a word, and they slowly made their way back to the cabin. When they finally arrived, Michel saw to the horses and Sophie and Fabien entered the house.
Fabien sat down on a stool, his movements heavy and slow. His hair was longer than Sophie had seen it before, hanging tangled and matted around his face. His neat moustache and beard had all but disappeared into a full bear as he had not shaved for a long time. Sophie bustled around, heating soup, cutting bread, and warming water for washing. Despite knowing his time in prison must affect Fabien, she hadn’t realised he would be so changed. He had always been the one in control, and now his passivity felt strange and uncomfortable. There were no allusions to their last conversation though Sophie knew it could only be a temporary respite.
When she gave him a bowl of steaming soup, Fabien hesitated, giving her a cautious look.
“I can taste it first if you are afraid I will poison you.”
He looked at her for a few moments longer, but then he ate, gulping down the food in a haste which caused Sophie to worry he would eat too much too quickly.
Michel entered the house, only to bid farewell. “I will return in a few days. If I don’t, well, don’t linger here.”
He clasped Fabien’s hand and nodded to Sophie and departed. They both listened to the sound of hoofbeats disappearing, and then Fabien stood up.
“Is the water warm enough?”
“I think so. I will leave you alone.”
“There is nothing here you haven’t seen before.” And then, after a brief pause. “I could do with some help.”
Sophie dressed down to her chemise to not spoil the silk of her court gown with water spots. She felt a little shy; not because of the state of undress they both were in, but because the situation was so strange. There was no bath in the cabin, but Sophie had found a large tub Fabien could stand in while she poured bucket after bucket of water over him. The sight of him without clothes deepened her worry; he was too thin, and there were fading bruises all over his body. And, even more horrifying, the still unhealed mark of a stylized lily, burned into his arm.
“What have they done to you?”
Fabien shrugged. “Nothing I haven’t done to others myself.”
But Sophie who knew more of what Fabien could do than she wanted to, did not feel reassured by his words.
He more fell into the bed than climb into it, asleep at once. Sophie studied him in worry, lamenting how gaunt and wretched he looked. But he was not running a fever, and Sophie thought his ordeal had merely exhausted, rather than permanently harmed him. Sleep and food would most likely restore him. Then she mopped the floor and packed away her fine clothes. A last farewell to the Duchess of Cassel; she was sure she would never use that name again, and it felt like a relief. The night's adventures were catching up with her and exhausted she slipped into the bed beside Fabien. He stirred, but only to move closer to her. Sophie put her arm around him, nestling close and soon fell asleep.
For a night, a day, and another night, Fabien slept. Sophie shook him awake from time to time to make sure he ate and could see to his bodily needs, but he fell asleep again as soon as he could. But then, the second days morning he spoke as Sophie cooked porridge.
“I didn’t know you could cook.”
Sophie smiled at him over her shoulder, relieved to see him awake by his own accord. “I’ve been in a convent since you last saw me. I learned many things there. Cooking and gardening I liked well enough. The praying- not so much.”
“No, I can’t imagine you would.”
Fabien still spent most of the day in bed, taking long naps, but Sophie didn’t have to wake him up anymore. He consented to Sophie combing out the snags in his hair and to cut it, and he also shaved with evident relief. The next day he woke up with her and said would feed the horses. Sophie let him though she peeked through the small window to make sure everything went well. But though he still moved in a slow and deliberate way, he didn’t seem as exhausted anymore.
When he came inside again, he went to his chest and pulled out his weapon. With his sword and knife in place he seemed to fill out, looking like himself again.. He turned to Sophie who had watched him in silence. She knew what was coming now, but somehow she didn’t feel scared.
“You saved me. Why? Why did you come back?”
“Because I love you. There was no other choice than coming.”
“Don’t you remember what I said to you when I last saw you?”
“Every word.”
He held up the door. “Let’s go.”
With no protests, Sophie went past him, into the sunshine outside.
