The End of the Story, chapter 7
Jan. 20th, 2020 12:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scripsiI finished something! Now I only have four WIPs…
Title: The End of the Story
Fandom: Versailles
Rating: Teens
Chapter: 7/7
Word Count: 1348
Characters Sophie de Clermont, Fabien Marchal
Pairings: Fabien Marchal/Sophie de Clermont
Warnings: References to abuse.
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
The next day finally brought Michel with news and a surprise Fabien’s own black horse trotted along with his own. The look on Fabien’s face when he saw them took Sophie's breath away, she had never seen him look so happy. The horse whinnied and buffed his nose gently at Fabien’s chest, and he put his arms around its neck, and then they just stood there, as close as they could.
“Was it safe to bring him?” Sophie asked Michel. “Won’t people wonder about it missing?”
“I don’t think anyone will care. Fabien is dead to anyone but you and me, and no one can ride that beast but Fabien. He nearly broke the neck of a stable boy who had the temerity to try. No one will be much surprised if I say I let him go to slaughter.”
“So we are safe then? Our plan worked?”
Michel laughed. “Oh yes. It’s the talk of Paris how the ghost of the Duchess of Cassel came from hell and took Fabien Marchal with her. The story grows more fantastical for every time someone tells it to me.”
“And the King, does the King believe the story?”
“I’m not sure. There is a warrant for your arrest, but there are no search parties. I think the King may believe you are alive, but that he is secretly pleased with the ghost story. As long as you stay dead and away, he will not look for you.”
At that point, Fabien returned to them. Soon after Michel left, laden with gratitude, and there were no longer any reasons to linger in the little cottage. Their few belongings were easy to pack, and soon they were on their way. They had decided to travel away from the roads for a few days until they were a safe distance from Paris.
It was a pleasant journey. The weather was warm, so sleeping outside was no hardship, and Fabien knew the region well and could easily find the best routes. For every hour Sophie’s heart felt lighter as if all her hardships eased and fell away as the distance to Versailles increased. And, she was sure, Fabien felt the same. The sun and fresh air soon took away the deathly pallor from his cheeks, and he looked healthier, but that was not all. He talked more and smiled more readily. Sophie could even tempt him into a laugh, or two, and she laughed more than she had in years.
There was but one thing that cast a shadow over Sophie’s mind. After all that had been said between them, there was one thing Fabien did not touch; what he felt for her. She had told him, more than once, that she loved him, and when he said he wanted them to go together, she had assumed he felt the same. But he spoke no words of love to her, and though they slept side by side, the only shared warmth, not caresses. Perhaps he only wanted her to go with him to protect her out of gratitude and old guilt and not for love.
But then, Sophie reminded herself, he had been a prisoner only mere days ago. She has seen for herself how weak and exhausted he had been. Perhaps his reticence had nothing to do with his feelings, but because he wasn’t yet fully recovered. Could Fabien, always so confident, be a little afraid of professing love for her and not be able to follow through?
Sophie was afraid to ask; scared to make him uncomfortable, and even more scared to find out he didn’t want her. What would she do then? Follow him along as what? His maid, his sister, or even more unthinkable daughter? A wife in name only? Sophie thought she could bear none of it. If their past was the only thing to tie them together, she could not stay with him. But still, she did not speak, even if her thoughts threw a darker shadow over her mind every day which passed.
After several days of travel, Fabien told her they would reach a minor city soon. They could arrange for a coach and travel more comfortably from then on, staying at inns instead of sleeping rough. For the night they stayed at a small lake, and in the morning they set about to make them more presentable for meeting people again. The day was warm, and Sophie decided to not only wash but to swim in the lake. At first, she was about to take her bath in her shift, as she had always done in Versailles, but then she decided not to. Fabien had seen her naked before; if he was not interested to see her without clothes anymore, well, what was that to her? So she stripped naked and plunged into the water, not checking if he was watching her, or not.
To swim and dive in the lake was glorious. For some time Sophie forgot her feelings and simply enjoyed moving in the water. She washed her hair and body, diving deep into the clear water to wash any trace of soap away. Then, satisfied, she floated on her back and looked up into the sky, before swimming back again. Fabien was standing waist-deep in water, shaving. Sophie floated closer, and then an impulse hit her and she kicked out, spraying Fabien with water.
“Stop it,” he said in an even voice, and Sophie moved away until she saw he had finished. Then she kicked again, with more force, but to her disappointment, Fabien only turned and waded up on to the beach. But then, quicker than she had time to react to, he put down his shaving knife, turned and dived into the water. His hand closed around an ankle and pulled, and Sophie found herself completely submerged. She had enough sense to close her mouth, saving herself from swallowing water. Turning this way and that she slipped out of Fabien’s grip and got her head above the surface again. She took a deep breath and glared at Fabien who was positively grinning at her.
“I told you to stop it.”
Sophie considered splashing him one more time, but she didn’t want to be dunked again. Instead, she dived and slithered around Fabien’s legs in an effort to unbalance him. But he merely swayed, and then he caught her, and she came to the air in his arms, and the startling sound of his laugh. And all at once she found the courage to speak.
“What am I to you, Fabien?”
The world suddenly seemed to stop. Fabien stopped laughing, and Sophie’s heart started to beat hard in her chest, afraid of what the answer would be.
“Don’t you know?”
“No. You never told me. Am I here only because you are grateful to me, or do you really want me to be with you?”
Fabien pulled her closer to him, a hand gently touching her face. “I love you. I thought you knew.”
Sophie felt an urge to splash him again. “Most people would agree that not being killed isn’t a declaration of love.”
Somewhat to her surprise, Fabien looked a little sheepish. “No, of course not. I’m sorry, Sophie. I know I have been distant, but I wasn’t sure if I had all my strength yet, and I didn’t want to disappoint you”
Sophie could feel a small bubble of happiness growing inside her. Her arms had found themselves around Fabien’s neck, her breasts pressed against his chest. If he had had misgivings about his ability, it was now abundantly clear he had had nothing to worry about. She smiled up at him, and Fabien kissed her lips, her cheeks, brow and then her mouth again, this time making the kiss long and deep. And as their embraced grew more passionate, the happiness in Sophie surged through her with an intensity she had never felt before. They still had a long journey before them, but she still felt they had both now come home.
End
Title: The End of the Story
Fandom: Versailles
Rating: Teens
Chapter: 7/7
Word Count: 1348
Characters Sophie de Clermont, Fabien Marchal
Pairings: Fabien Marchal/Sophie de Clermont
Warnings: References to abuse.
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
The next day finally brought Michel with news and a surprise Fabien’s own black horse trotted along with his own. The look on Fabien’s face when he saw them took Sophie's breath away, she had never seen him look so happy. The horse whinnied and buffed his nose gently at Fabien’s chest, and he put his arms around its neck, and then they just stood there, as close as they could.
“Was it safe to bring him?” Sophie asked Michel. “Won’t people wonder about it missing?”
“I don’t think anyone will care. Fabien is dead to anyone but you and me, and no one can ride that beast but Fabien. He nearly broke the neck of a stable boy who had the temerity to try. No one will be much surprised if I say I let him go to slaughter.”
“So we are safe then? Our plan worked?”
Michel laughed. “Oh yes. It’s the talk of Paris how the ghost of the Duchess of Cassel came from hell and took Fabien Marchal with her. The story grows more fantastical for every time someone tells it to me.”
“And the King, does the King believe the story?”
“I’m not sure. There is a warrant for your arrest, but there are no search parties. I think the King may believe you are alive, but that he is secretly pleased with the ghost story. As long as you stay dead and away, he will not look for you.”
At that point, Fabien returned to them. Soon after Michel left, laden with gratitude, and there were no longer any reasons to linger in the little cottage. Their few belongings were easy to pack, and soon they were on their way. They had decided to travel away from the roads for a few days until they were a safe distance from Paris.
It was a pleasant journey. The weather was warm, so sleeping outside was no hardship, and Fabien knew the region well and could easily find the best routes. For every hour Sophie’s heart felt lighter as if all her hardships eased and fell away as the distance to Versailles increased. And, she was sure, Fabien felt the same. The sun and fresh air soon took away the deathly pallor from his cheeks, and he looked healthier, but that was not all. He talked more and smiled more readily. Sophie could even tempt him into a laugh, or two, and she laughed more than she had in years.
There was but one thing that cast a shadow over Sophie’s mind. After all that had been said between them, there was one thing Fabien did not touch; what he felt for her. She had told him, more than once, that she loved him, and when he said he wanted them to go together, she had assumed he felt the same. But he spoke no words of love to her, and though they slept side by side, the only shared warmth, not caresses. Perhaps he only wanted her to go with him to protect her out of gratitude and old guilt and not for love.
But then, Sophie reminded herself, he had been a prisoner only mere days ago. She has seen for herself how weak and exhausted he had been. Perhaps his reticence had nothing to do with his feelings, but because he wasn’t yet fully recovered. Could Fabien, always so confident, be a little afraid of professing love for her and not be able to follow through?
Sophie was afraid to ask; scared to make him uncomfortable, and even more scared to find out he didn’t want her. What would she do then? Follow him along as what? His maid, his sister, or even more unthinkable daughter? A wife in name only? Sophie thought she could bear none of it. If their past was the only thing to tie them together, she could not stay with him. But still, she did not speak, even if her thoughts threw a darker shadow over her mind every day which passed.
After several days of travel, Fabien told her they would reach a minor city soon. They could arrange for a coach and travel more comfortably from then on, staying at inns instead of sleeping rough. For the night they stayed at a small lake, and in the morning they set about to make them more presentable for meeting people again. The day was warm, and Sophie decided to not only wash but to swim in the lake. At first, she was about to take her bath in her shift, as she had always done in Versailles, but then she decided not to. Fabien had seen her naked before; if he was not interested to see her without clothes anymore, well, what was that to her? So she stripped naked and plunged into the water, not checking if he was watching her, or not.
To swim and dive in the lake was glorious. For some time Sophie forgot her feelings and simply enjoyed moving in the water. She washed her hair and body, diving deep into the clear water to wash any trace of soap away. Then, satisfied, she floated on her back and looked up into the sky, before swimming back again. Fabien was standing waist-deep in water, shaving. Sophie floated closer, and then an impulse hit her and she kicked out, spraying Fabien with water.
“Stop it,” he said in an even voice, and Sophie moved away until she saw he had finished. Then she kicked again, with more force, but to her disappointment, Fabien only turned and waded up on to the beach. But then, quicker than she had time to react to, he put down his shaving knife, turned and dived into the water. His hand closed around an ankle and pulled, and Sophie found herself completely submerged. She had enough sense to close her mouth, saving herself from swallowing water. Turning this way and that she slipped out of Fabien’s grip and got her head above the surface again. She took a deep breath and glared at Fabien who was positively grinning at her.
“I told you to stop it.”
Sophie considered splashing him one more time, but she didn’t want to be dunked again. Instead, she dived and slithered around Fabien’s legs in an effort to unbalance him. But he merely swayed, and then he caught her, and she came to the air in his arms, and the startling sound of his laugh. And all at once she found the courage to speak.
“What am I to you, Fabien?”
The world suddenly seemed to stop. Fabien stopped laughing, and Sophie’s heart started to beat hard in her chest, afraid of what the answer would be.
“Don’t you know?”
“No. You never told me. Am I here only because you are grateful to me, or do you really want me to be with you?”
Fabien pulled her closer to him, a hand gently touching her face. “I love you. I thought you knew.”
Sophie felt an urge to splash him again. “Most people would agree that not being killed isn’t a declaration of love.”
Somewhat to her surprise, Fabien looked a little sheepish. “No, of course not. I’m sorry, Sophie. I know I have been distant, but I wasn’t sure if I had all my strength yet, and I didn’t want to disappoint you”
Sophie could feel a small bubble of happiness growing inside her. Her arms had found themselves around Fabien’s neck, her breasts pressed against his chest. If he had had misgivings about his ability, it was now abundantly clear he had had nothing to worry about. She smiled up at him, and Fabien kissed her lips, her cheeks, brow and then her mouth again, this time making the kiss long and deep. And as their embraced grew more passionate, the happiness in Sophie surged through her with an intensity she had never felt before. They still had a long journey before them, but she still felt they had both now come home.
End
