Author Topic: The Silence and Loss of a Fair Lady  (Read 385 times)

(RIP) Pierre Du Vallon

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The Silence and Loss of a Fair Lady
« on: 19 March, 2018, 03:04:48 AM »
Pierre du Vallon stood carefully hammering away at his forge.  Placing the last touches on someone's order.  Yet, as his day came to a close, hurriedly into his workshop came a military courier.  As France's Captain of the Guard and Constable, this was nothing new or surprising.  All types of military and administrative correspondence often came in and out of his shop.  Though this time, what arrived was different.

For tucked in amidst some papers from English merchants and agents, came a document.  It was a small worn looking letter, with no date.  It's contents contained but eight small words,

- "Lady Aiiane Grey, England, deceased."
Signed Monsieur Dockside.

Putting his project, and tools immediately aside, Mr. du Vallon sat down upon a nearby stool, and stared out into space. He needed to let the news wash over him.  For much, like a rogue wave at sea this news came as a devastating shock. 

Remembering back, he knew that she after having been appointed Queen of England, at a time when the country was being ravaged by foreign powers beyond her control suffered quite the burden.  There had been a lack of communication, but he had hoped it was only a temporary phase. As a matter of fact, he too had gone through his own phase, escaping the chaos of the world by devoting the last few months solely to training.

Reflecting back on it, without a doubt, chaos had reigned for the past few months.  Nations and leaders squabbled and bickered like never before.  Both England and France had seen violent losses of land.  France was now surrounded by hostile nations, forcing her to rally behind political positions of the day, when really most French citizens whom he spoke with only wanted to trade and live at peace. Unsure of what the future would hold, everyone was forced to prioritize and reassess his or her actions. Like many, he had done less buying, trading and crafting; focusing instead on training and personal growth.  Sadly, even that was somewhat hindered by an unexpected famine, which had spread across the whole of Europe,

It was at times like this that the peaceful part of his heart and soul sought him to seek comfort and solace from Teos and his faith.  Sadly though, as of late, even there had grown a type of void.  Once a time not long ago (that now felt like ages); he had (and still remained to this day) a member of the papal guard.  Mr. du Vallon had once lived for the daily blessings of the church.  Yet, most had grown quiet amidst the aimless bickering.   Even the Papacy, it too had grown silent as of late.  While Teos may not have abandoned his people, there are many lost, and in need of guidance.

Standing up, he crossed the workshop room and pulled a small sealed letter from the bottom drawer of his desk.  A letter, whose contents were known only to himself.  In it contained a marriage proposal for Aiiane Grey, which had never been sent.  Having always questioned his own merit and self worth, Mr. du Vallon had chosen to love her from afar. When word reached France that she was named Queen of England the letter was stowed away in his desk; for how could a mere Viscount ever earn such a relationship with a Queen.  Looking down on the two papers, he carefully placed them both into the burning forge.  Pierre watched as the flames consumed them.

With a heavy heart, and great fatigue, Mr. du Vallon, told his shop assistant to mind the forge until it had cooled.  He was being called away that evening on important business; or so he claimed.  This statement though seemed to be contradicted by the plain garb and grey hood he wore resembling more your average traveler than any government official. Gathering a trusty horse, Pierre du Vallon headed out of the city going south and it was there for a short while that he returned to a comfort from his youth.

Tavern News from Southern French regions reported later of a couple unexpectedly crowded nights filled with much drinking, singing, and even a bit of fist fighting similar to what one might see at the docks.