A Stroll In The Moss - Alphonse Delaunay? - 27.10.23
Oct 27, 2023 0:31:14 GMT
Velania Kalugina, Andy D, and 1 more like this
Post by Alferron Blackbriar on Oct 27, 2023 0:31:14 GMT
"Good evening, Master Delaunay."
"Hail."
Alphonse walked over and up to the upper floors of the Gilded Mirror wordlessly. The same familiar faces, the Countess, Them, and the regulars at the poker tables all gave him a cordial wave. He paid them no mind.
He opened the door silently, and walked in.
"You have been silent the entire road home."
"And?" Alphonse responded curtly.
"It is out of character."
"And what, pray tell, is my character supposed to be? Do you pine for my company so badly? Do you want to know what's on my mind? It's not like you ever gave a shit. Why should I?"
"This is... odd."
"Not any more odd than the regular fucking bullshit. Same old, same old. Garbage in and garbage out. You know, it's funny how much I tried. To be visible. To be seen. Noticed. Liked. It's funnier still how it just doesn't fucking matter. One wrong move and they're on your case the entire journey. You try and make amends and they just double down. You try and keep your head down and they just get louder. The more things change, the more they stay the same, right? Garbage in and garbage fucking out. Well I'm done with it all. It doesn't matter anymore. It never did."
"So what has brought on this revelation?"
"A realisation. I lie. I lie like it's breathing. I lie about the wonderful day we're having. I lie about how it's so good to see you. I lie about how I hope you've been keeping well. I lie about how that colour goes so well with your hair. I lie and I lie and everyone lied around me too. So tell me, why did I expect father to be telling me the truth again? Why would Jean-Luc Delaunay, ruler of three kingdoms, purposefully destabilise his realm and split his claim into three parts and take on such insidious scandal as to claim a bastard? Because he is a good and principled man? It doesn't make sense. But of course it doesn't make sense. It doesn't make sense because that isn't what happened."
Alphonse walked over the window and looked down on the streets of Daring Heights in disdain.
"Count Jean-Luc Delaunay marries Miriam Martinet and soon after has a bonny bouncing boy called Pierre. An heir to his realm, how lovely. Two pleasant peaceful years pass before Contessa Miriam falls pregnant again. This is a tricky situation; if it's a girl that can be worked with, a perfectly good bargaining chip to build alliances with other counts, dukes, maybe even the king if he can get in his good graces. A boy is more difficult. Two doesn't divide easily into three, not without malcontent brewing between the two. And thus Francois is born. But Jean-Luc is cunning and an opportunist. Either by sheer chance or careful planning, soon after a mistress of his, a handmaiden of no importance by the name of Melira Blackbriar also falls pregnant. She's whisked away in the dead of night to a holding on his quietest barony and some months later he receives word that she has borne a son. The plan has been set in motion, now time must pass, enough that the boy knows the trials of rural life in poverty, of days going without, of picking stones out of the fields so they can be plowed and the pain of watching his mother wither away in front of him, but not enough to understand that he is being stolen away and taken for a fool when the big man in the fancy clothes tells you you get to live in the big castle and eat cake all day and never work again. A scapegoat is born, one that two brothers can focus all their disdain upon while the boy is only grateful for the opportunity. Succession is fine, just give the boy that sad, decrepit little barony from whence he was spawned, let him play pretend all he wants while the two brothers stand united and content against the bastard third. While initially it would be a scandal to admit to his sin, in time Jean-Luc would be seen as so gracious and charitable to give the poor little boy such a chance. What a saint you are, Jean-Luc Delaunay!"
The words grated out of Alphonse's mouth like gravel against stones.
"So that is what you believe."
"And why shouldn't I? I spent all these years trying to fit in, trying to be the best baron I could be, even in exile I tried to be what I thought I was meant to be. But Pierre and Francois, Contessa Miriam, everyone was right. I wasn't supposed to be there. Gods, even the druid is starting to make sense now. I was just never listening."
"...I scarcely believe I'm even asking this, but what of the girl?"
"Fleur. Oh, darling sweet beautiful Fleur..." Alphonse sighed despondently as he sat himself down on the bed. "My heart cries out to see her again. My head unfortunately knows better. Courtly life has its privileges but can also be so boring, so isolating. I think in me she saw her escape; the sad boy with ears like her favourite nanny that everyone else stayed away from. A diversion and a distraction from her ultimate fate as she waits out the days until it comes. I desperately want to see it another way but I don't think I can anymore. I know how I feel about her, but I don't think I want to know how she feels after me. Especially not after I torch the damn castle to the ground."
"Excuse me, what?!" Delenarr exclaimed, whipping his head around with speed as of yet unseen by anyone.
"You heard me. Initially I just wanted to humiliate the Delaunays in residence and seize the land in the name of my father. But if the entirety of House Delaunay is fetid then we can just torch it to the ground and pick out their relics from the ashes. Land is land, and can be had anywhere. Besides, how did I ever expect to seize the castle without collateral damage? A silly fantasy I was living in, but my eyes are open now."
"...Unexpected, but I think I can work with this."
"Of course. You told me yourself that a dragon was a being made of desire. Now I just desire to see them burn. We'll still have to play nice with these adventurers for the while to get them on board, but we can relax a little. Alphonse Delaunay is dead now, there's no need to hide the knives or a bad mood so much, it's not like anyone else does. And besides, they've proven time and again that money talks; if they won't join the raid out of goodwill I'll simply pay them off. Oh, you can have these, by the way."
Alphonse pulled at the signet ring on his finger, leaving behind a noticeable tan line as he cast it onto Delenarr's horde, before withdrawing his scroll of pedigree to do the same again.
"And if Baron Alphonse Delaunay is so dead, what am I supposed to call you?"
Alphonse sat in thought for a second before chuckling to himself.
"The name my mother gave me. My real name, before the damned Delaunays corrupted it like they did yours. Alferron. Alferron Blackbriar."
The newly crowned boy returned to the window once again, his vigour renewed.
"Rest easy mother, your boy will be home soon and your vengeance shall be realised with the very symbol those charlatans used to mistreat you so."
"Hail."
Alphonse walked over and up to the upper floors of the Gilded Mirror wordlessly. The same familiar faces, the Countess, Them, and the regulars at the poker tables all gave him a cordial wave. He paid them no mind.
He opened the door silently, and walked in.
"You have been silent the entire road home."
"And?" Alphonse responded curtly.
"It is out of character."
"And what, pray tell, is my character supposed to be? Do you pine for my company so badly? Do you want to know what's on my mind? It's not like you ever gave a shit. Why should I?"
"This is... odd."
"Not any more odd than the regular fucking bullshit. Same old, same old. Garbage in and garbage out. You know, it's funny how much I tried. To be visible. To be seen. Noticed. Liked. It's funnier still how it just doesn't fucking matter. One wrong move and they're on your case the entire journey. You try and make amends and they just double down. You try and keep your head down and they just get louder. The more things change, the more they stay the same, right? Garbage in and garbage fucking out. Well I'm done with it all. It doesn't matter anymore. It never did."
"So what has brought on this revelation?"
"A realisation. I lie. I lie like it's breathing. I lie about the wonderful day we're having. I lie about how it's so good to see you. I lie about how I hope you've been keeping well. I lie about how that colour goes so well with your hair. I lie and I lie and everyone lied around me too. So tell me, why did I expect father to be telling me the truth again? Why would Jean-Luc Delaunay, ruler of three kingdoms, purposefully destabilise his realm and split his claim into three parts and take on such insidious scandal as to claim a bastard? Because he is a good and principled man? It doesn't make sense. But of course it doesn't make sense. It doesn't make sense because that isn't what happened."
Alphonse walked over the window and looked down on the streets of Daring Heights in disdain.
"Count Jean-Luc Delaunay marries Miriam Martinet and soon after has a bonny bouncing boy called Pierre. An heir to his realm, how lovely. Two pleasant peaceful years pass before Contessa Miriam falls pregnant again. This is a tricky situation; if it's a girl that can be worked with, a perfectly good bargaining chip to build alliances with other counts, dukes, maybe even the king if he can get in his good graces. A boy is more difficult. Two doesn't divide easily into three, not without malcontent brewing between the two. And thus Francois is born. But Jean-Luc is cunning and an opportunist. Either by sheer chance or careful planning, soon after a mistress of his, a handmaiden of no importance by the name of Melira Blackbriar also falls pregnant. She's whisked away in the dead of night to a holding on his quietest barony and some months later he receives word that she has borne a son. The plan has been set in motion, now time must pass, enough that the boy knows the trials of rural life in poverty, of days going without, of picking stones out of the fields so they can be plowed and the pain of watching his mother wither away in front of him, but not enough to understand that he is being stolen away and taken for a fool when the big man in the fancy clothes tells you you get to live in the big castle and eat cake all day and never work again. A scapegoat is born, one that two brothers can focus all their disdain upon while the boy is only grateful for the opportunity. Succession is fine, just give the boy that sad, decrepit little barony from whence he was spawned, let him play pretend all he wants while the two brothers stand united and content against the bastard third. While initially it would be a scandal to admit to his sin, in time Jean-Luc would be seen as so gracious and charitable to give the poor little boy such a chance. What a saint you are, Jean-Luc Delaunay!"
The words grated out of Alphonse's mouth like gravel against stones.
"So that is what you believe."
"And why shouldn't I? I spent all these years trying to fit in, trying to be the best baron I could be, even in exile I tried to be what I thought I was meant to be. But Pierre and Francois, Contessa Miriam, everyone was right. I wasn't supposed to be there. Gods, even the druid is starting to make sense now. I was just never listening."
"...I scarcely believe I'm even asking this, but what of the girl?"
"Fleur. Oh, darling sweet beautiful Fleur..." Alphonse sighed despondently as he sat himself down on the bed. "My heart cries out to see her again. My head unfortunately knows better. Courtly life has its privileges but can also be so boring, so isolating. I think in me she saw her escape; the sad boy with ears like her favourite nanny that everyone else stayed away from. A diversion and a distraction from her ultimate fate as she waits out the days until it comes. I desperately want to see it another way but I don't think I can anymore. I know how I feel about her, but I don't think I want to know how she feels after me. Especially not after I torch the damn castle to the ground."
"Excuse me, what?!" Delenarr exclaimed, whipping his head around with speed as of yet unseen by anyone.
"You heard me. Initially I just wanted to humiliate the Delaunays in residence and seize the land in the name of my father. But if the entirety of House Delaunay is fetid then we can just torch it to the ground and pick out their relics from the ashes. Land is land, and can be had anywhere. Besides, how did I ever expect to seize the castle without collateral damage? A silly fantasy I was living in, but my eyes are open now."
"...Unexpected, but I think I can work with this."
"Of course. You told me yourself that a dragon was a being made of desire. Now I just desire to see them burn. We'll still have to play nice with these adventurers for the while to get them on board, but we can relax a little. Alphonse Delaunay is dead now, there's no need to hide the knives or a bad mood so much, it's not like anyone else does. And besides, they've proven time and again that money talks; if they won't join the raid out of goodwill I'll simply pay them off. Oh, you can have these, by the way."
Alphonse pulled at the signet ring on his finger, leaving behind a noticeable tan line as he cast it onto Delenarr's horde, before withdrawing his scroll of pedigree to do the same again.
"And if Baron Alphonse Delaunay is so dead, what am I supposed to call you?"
Alphonse sat in thought for a second before chuckling to himself.
"The name my mother gave me. My real name, before the damned Delaunays corrupted it like they did yours. Alferron. Alferron Blackbriar."
The newly crowned boy returned to the window once again, his vigour renewed.
"Rest easy mother, your boy will be home soon and your vengeance shall be realised with the very symbol those charlatans used to mistreat you so."
