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fandomweekly2022-04-25 05:44 pm
fleuretteffoulkes) wrote in fandomweekly2022-04-25 05:44 pm
Entry tags:
[#133] Family Responsibilities (Scarlet Pimpernel)
Theme Prompt: #133 - Storytelling
Title: Family Responsibilities
Fandom: The Scarlet Pimpernel - Baroness Orczy
Rating/Warnings: G (mention of a child being orphaned)
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 732
Summary: The League of the Scarlet Pimpernel is retired now; Jeremiah works on adjusting to his new, more boring, life.
The Blakeneys were expecting a child. As much as it had been difficult for Jeremiah Wallescourt to believe that the fight was over and their labors in France had finally reached an end, it was this news that finally made him feel at ease. (Of course he did not hear directly; for Lady Blakeney to inform any man not her husband of her pregnancy would be nearly as scandalous as if Jeremiah were to steal the Prince of Wales's diary and read it aloud in the midst of Pall Mall. "Dear diary, yesterday I finally found out who the Scarlet Pimpernel was. Also I bought a new piece of Michelin lace." The thought made Jeremiah laugh, truly and finally at ease. In any regard, Lady Blakeney had discreetly informed Lady Wallescourt at a garden-party yesterday, and then Mary had told Jeremiah as soon as she got home, so it had not taken long at all for the news to reach him.)
And so the fight was truly over, and perhaps there would be other battles needing to be fought in the future—there were sure to be—but perhaps those would be for the next generation of young men in their turn. As for the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel, they were no longer young men: they were family men, with responsibilities in their own country.
One of those responsibilities came pelting down the stairs of Wallescourt House, shrieking "Papa!" Madeleine, whom he and Mary had adopted a few years earlier when her parents were both guillotined and the Chief could find no trace of any other relatives, had picked up English easily, with only a trace of French in her accent to hint at the tragedy of her early years. She took with relish to both life in England and life as the Wallescourts' daughter, and of all the rescues Jeremiah had participated in over the years, the one where he gained Madeline was still the one he was most grateful for. "Papa!" she exclaimed again, throwing her arms around his waist, which was as high as she can reach. "Papa, can you tell me a story?"
The League's fight was over: it was no longer a matter of life and death, but a matter for history books—and storybooks. "Do you want me to tell you a story of the bravest man who ever lived?" Jeremiah suggested, leading her over to a settee and settling her down next to him. "The Scarlet Pimpernel."
"No, you're the bravest man who ever lived," his daughter said, and Jeremiah's heart swelled with pride that this sweet little girl should trust him so despite all that she had suffered.
"I'm afraid the Scarlet Pimpernel is even braver than that," Jeremiah explained. "Maybe that will make more sense after you've heard the story. Once upon a time, there were very sad things happening in France" (hoping she wouldn't realize that he was referring to the same events that killed her parents, he hurried on before she could notice) "and there were some Englishmen who wanted to help some of the people in France who were hurt or in danger."
"Like me!"
"Yes, like you, and many others. The Scarlet Pimpernel knew that people like you needed help, so he talked to some of his friends about what they should do. So they went and bought some dirty old ragged clothes..."
It felt so strange to think that he would be telling this story for the rest of his life, and never again living it. He didn't miss the guilt of knowing that if he made one false move Mary would be a widow and his daughters orphans—but he missed the excitement of fleeing across the countryside, the confidence of knowing the Chief's plans could be relied on, the joy of bringing souls safely to England who otherwise would have died. But with his daughter sitting beside him, clinging to his every word, and his wife bringing their other daughter (still young enough that she mightn't understand most of the story, but old enough to want to be included in everything her family did) down the stairs to join them...he was glad it was over, he told himself, and he very nearly believed it. The life he was going to live now might be more boring, but it was sure to be full of joy.
Title: Family Responsibilities
Fandom: The Scarlet Pimpernel - Baroness Orczy
Rating/Warnings: G (mention of a child being orphaned)
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 732
Summary: The League of the Scarlet Pimpernel is retired now; Jeremiah works on adjusting to his new, more boring, life.
The Blakeneys were expecting a child. As much as it had been difficult for Jeremiah Wallescourt to believe that the fight was over and their labors in France had finally reached an end, it was this news that finally made him feel at ease. (Of course he did not hear directly; for Lady Blakeney to inform any man not her husband of her pregnancy would be nearly as scandalous as if Jeremiah were to steal the Prince of Wales's diary and read it aloud in the midst of Pall Mall. "Dear diary, yesterday I finally found out who the Scarlet Pimpernel was. Also I bought a new piece of Michelin lace." The thought made Jeremiah laugh, truly and finally at ease. In any regard, Lady Blakeney had discreetly informed Lady Wallescourt at a garden-party yesterday, and then Mary had told Jeremiah as soon as she got home, so it had not taken long at all for the news to reach him.)
And so the fight was truly over, and perhaps there would be other battles needing to be fought in the future—there were sure to be—but perhaps those would be for the next generation of young men in their turn. As for the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel, they were no longer young men: they were family men, with responsibilities in their own country.
One of those responsibilities came pelting down the stairs of Wallescourt House, shrieking "Papa!" Madeleine, whom he and Mary had adopted a few years earlier when her parents were both guillotined and the Chief could find no trace of any other relatives, had picked up English easily, with only a trace of French in her accent to hint at the tragedy of her early years. She took with relish to both life in England and life as the Wallescourts' daughter, and of all the rescues Jeremiah had participated in over the years, the one where he gained Madeline was still the one he was most grateful for. "Papa!" she exclaimed again, throwing her arms around his waist, which was as high as she can reach. "Papa, can you tell me a story?"
The League's fight was over: it was no longer a matter of life and death, but a matter for history books—and storybooks. "Do you want me to tell you a story of the bravest man who ever lived?" Jeremiah suggested, leading her over to a settee and settling her down next to him. "The Scarlet Pimpernel."
"No, you're the bravest man who ever lived," his daughter said, and Jeremiah's heart swelled with pride that this sweet little girl should trust him so despite all that she had suffered.
"I'm afraid the Scarlet Pimpernel is even braver than that," Jeremiah explained. "Maybe that will make more sense after you've heard the story. Once upon a time, there were very sad things happening in France" (hoping she wouldn't realize that he was referring to the same events that killed her parents, he hurried on before she could notice) "and there were some Englishmen who wanted to help some of the people in France who were hurt or in danger."
"Like me!"
"Yes, like you, and many others. The Scarlet Pimpernel knew that people like you needed help, so he talked to some of his friends about what they should do. So they went and bought some dirty old ragged clothes..."
It felt so strange to think that he would be telling this story for the rest of his life, and never again living it. He didn't miss the guilt of knowing that if he made one false move Mary would be a widow and his daughters orphans—but he missed the excitement of fleeing across the countryside, the confidence of knowing the Chief's plans could be relied on, the joy of bringing souls safely to England who otherwise would have died. But with his daughter sitting beside him, clinging to his every word, and his wife bringing their other daughter (still young enough that she mightn't understand most of the story, but old enough to want to be included in everything her family did) down the stairs to join them...he was glad it was over, he told himself, and he very nearly believed it. The life he was going to live now might be more boring, but it was sure to be full of joy.