Bessieres would suddenly receive a particular blue envelope. It's shade was inaccurate, with a bright red seal. When opened, the letter was cold and very wrong to the touch.
D̴e̴a̴r̴ ̴D̴u̴c̴ ̴d̴'̴I̴s̴t̴r̴i̴e̴.̴
P̴e̴r̴s̴o̴n̴a̴l̴l̴y̴,̴ ̴I̴ ̴w̴o̴u̴l̴d̴ ̴h̴a̴v̴e̴ ̴p̴r̴e̴f̴e̴r̴r̴e̴d̴ ̴t̴o̴ ̴n̴e̴v̴e̴r̴ ̴r̴e̴s̴o̴r̴t̴ ̴t̴o̴ ̴s̴p̴e̴n̴d̴i̴n̴g̴ ̴t̴i̴m̴e̴ ̴w̴r̴i̴t̴i̴n̴g̴ ̴t̴o̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴.̴ ̴B̴u̴t̴,̴ ̴k̴n̴o̴w̴i̴n̴g̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴,̴ ̴I̴ ̴h̴a̴v̴e̴ ̴n̴o̴ ̴c̴h̴o̴i̴c̴e̴.̴ ̴A̴l̴t̴h̴o̴u̴g̴h̴ ̴I̴ ̴d̴i̴d̴ ̴w̴a̴n̴t̴e̴d̴ ̴t̴o̴ ̴l̴e̴t̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴ ̴k̴n̴o̴w̴ ̴s̴o̴m̴e̴t̴h̴i̴n̴g̴.̴
F̴i̴r̴s̴t̴ ̴t̴h̴i̴n̴g̴s̴ ̴f̴i̴r̴s̴t̴;̴ ̴I̴ ̴d̴o̴n̴'̴t̴ ̴w̴a̴n̴t̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴ ̴t̴o̴ ̴d̴a̴r̴e̴ ̴b̴l̴a̴m̴e̴ ̴D̴u̴r̴o̴c̴ ̴f̴o̴r̴ ̴t̴h̴i̴s̴ ̴s̴i̴t̴u̴a̴t̴i̴o̴n̴.̴ ̴N̴o̴ ̴m̴a̴t̴t̴e̴r̴ ̴w̴h̴a̴t̴ ̴h̴e̴ ̴s̴a̴y̴s̴,̴ ̴h̴e̴ ̴n̴e̴v̴e̴r̴ ̴l̴e̴t̴ ̴m̴e̴ ̴i̴n̴.̴ ̴I̴t̴ ̴w̴a̴s̴ ̴I̴ ̴w̴h̴o̴ ̴m̴a̴n̴a̴g̴e̴d̴ ̴t̴o̴ ̴g̴e̴t̴ ̴t̴h̴r̴o̴u̴g̴h̴,̴ ̴b̴e̴c̴a̴u̴s̴e̴ ̴h̴e̴ ̴w̴a̴s̴ ̴c̴o̴m̴p̴l̴e̴t̴e̴l̴y̴ ̴n̴e̴g̴l̴e̴c̴t̴e̴d̴ ̴a̴n̴d̴ ̴i̴n̴ ̴a̴ ̴d̴e̴p̴l̴o̴r̴a̴b̴l̴e̴ ̴s̴t̴a̴t̴e̴.̴
B̴u̴t̴ ̴i̴t̴'̴s̴ ̴t̴o̴ ̴n̴o̴t̴ ̴s̴u̴r̴p̴r̴i̴s̴e̴,̴ ̴c̴o̴n̴s̴i̴d̴e̴r̴i̴n̴g̴ ̴b̴o̴t̴h̴ ̴B̴o̴r̴o̴d̴i̴n̴o̴,̴ ̴a̴n̴d̴ ̴t̴h̴e̴ ̴w̴a̴y̴ ̴h̴e̴ ̴l̴o̴s̴t̴ ̴h̴i̴s̴ ̴a̴r̴m̴s̴.̴ ̴Y̴o̴u̴ ̴a̴r̴e̴ ̴l̴i̴k̴e̴ ̴t̴h̴a̴t̴.̴
A̴n̴d̴ ̴i̴t̴ ̴i̴s̴,̴ ̴f̴o̴r̴ ̴t̴h̴a̴t̴ ̴s̴a̴m̴e̴ ̴r̴e̴a̴s̴o̴n̴,̴ ̴t̴h̴a̴t̴ ̴I̴ ̴w̴i̴l̴l̴ ̴t̴e̴l̴l̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴ ̴t̴h̴e̴ ̴f̴o̴l̴l̴o̴w̴i̴n̴g̴.̴ ̴S̴o̴o̴n̴e̴r̴ ̴o̴r̴ ̴l̴a̴t̴e̴r̴,̴ ̴I̴ ̴w̴i̴l̴l̴ ̴t̴a̴k̴e̴ ̴h̴i̴m̴ ̴w̴i̴t̴h̴ ̴m̴e̴,̴ ̴a̴l̴o̴n̴g̴ ̴w̴i̴t̴h̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴r̴ ̴d̴a̴u̴g̴h̴t̴e̴r̴s̴.̴ ̴I̴'̴l̴l̴ ̴t̴a̴k̴e̴ ̴t̴h̴e̴m̴ ̴a̴w̴a̴y̴ ̴f̴r̴o̴m̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴.̴
S̴o̴,̴ ̴I̴ ̴w̴o̴u̴l̴d̴ ̴p̴e̴r̴s̴o̴n̴a̴l̴l̴y̴ ̴s̴u̴g̴e̴s̴t̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴ ̴t̴o̴ ̴g̴o̴ ̴a̴n̴d̴ ̴e̴n̴j̴o̴y̴ ̴t̴h̴e̴ ̴l̴i̴t̴t̴l̴e̴ ̴t̴i̴m̴e̴ ̴t̴h̴a̴t̴ ̴I̴ ̴w̴i̴l̴l̴ ̴a̴l̴l̴o̴w̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴ ̴t̴o̴ ̴s̴h̴a̴r̴e̴ ̴w̴i̴t̴h̴ ̴t̴h̴e̴m̴.̴
T̴h̴i̴s̴ ̴l̴e̴t̴t̴e̴r̴ ̴w̴i̴l̴l̴ ̴b̴u̴r̴n̴ ̴f̴i̴v̴e̴ ̴m̴i̴n̴u̴t̴e̴s̴ ̴a̴f̴t̴e̴r̴ ̴o̴p̴e̴n̴i̴n̴g̴ ̴t̴h̴e̴ ̴e̴n̴v̴e̴l̴o̴p̴e̴.̴
-Le Duc Raguser, Commandant de L'armée de l'Enfer et Maréchal Judas, Auguste Marmont.
(( @commandant-des-traitres ))
(picking up from Points of Divergence)
Bessieres reads the letter, his hands trembling. He fights the urge to throw it crumple it and throw it aside, to get angry and defensive at the blatant lies Marmont spews in it. Instead he grabs a pen and quill and rapidly copies the message before the letter bursts into a flare of hellfire and disappears. All that is left is a scorch mark and ashes.
Ney had assured him this house was secure, how had this letter gotten in here? He will ask soon.
He sits in the nursery, where Aurore rests in her impractical gold cradle, still bundled in her egg cozy that Lannes sent months ago. Strangely, it's one of the few things that has survived from their old home. Duroc is elsewhere in the house that Ney has built for them.
He's still not dressed as a marshal of France, but rather in an anonymous traveler's outfit and long cloak, and an old-fashioned tricorne. Bessieres was tempted to slip into uniform once again, but that could make him too identifiable and a target.
Let them come, he thinks, and then dismisses it as reckless.
He wants to stay, he wants to protect his family, Marmont has apparently found a vulnerability to worm his way in, but he knows that by leaving he can also protect them. He has to trust the others to protect Helene and Aurore … and Geraud too.
Bessiéres hasn't spoken to Duroc since that day, unable to even look at him. Helene knows something is up, children are more perceptive than adults often give them credit for.
He was being wretched after that whole tea party incident, Bessieres thinks, but I never neglected him. I tried so hard but nothing.
Nothing until Marmont coaxed him out, apparently. Duroc would rather be with him than his husband.
He looks over his copy of Marmont's letter. Steal my daughters, will you, you bastard?
"Papa?" he hears Helene ask from the doorway. She's trying to put on a brave face, but underneath, her father knows she's frightened.
"Helene," he says, and sweeps her off her feet to tickle her. She laughs. She's getting big, but she's lighter than she looks. Her hair smells like fresh lavender, and she wraps her little arms around his neck.
How much bigger will she be when her Papa returns home?
"Are you really leaving, Papa?" she asks, looking up at him as they sit on the chaise next to Aurore's cradle.
He remembers his son and his daughters asking him the same question as he rode away from home to another war in service of the emperor. It never gets any easier. "Yes, my sweet," he says with a playful tweak of her nose. "I have to go, for a little while. I have to go to protect you and your sister and ... Daddy too."
"But you're angry at Daddy."
"I ... I am, but don't be angry at Daddy because I am. He's going to need you more than ever. Aurore will need you. I'll be home, I promise."
Except for that one time he broke his promise because of cannonball that came out of nowhere -- don't think about that.
"You'll have friends to protect and keep you safe here, Helene, listen to them, no matter how strange it gets," he says, recalling the cheese incident going on at Lannes' camp. He takes Helene's hand in hers, and his mind touches hers. In their link, he doesn't hold back his love for her, and that he will miss her. She will remember this, always.
Then he touches Aurore's egg, and feels a whisper of a response back. Aurore is dreaming. His daughter is alive, no matter what that bastard dog-headed Roland did to her.
"You'll be strong for Papa and for Daddy, won't you, my sweet?" he asks Helene again, and she frowns uncertainly. Then she nods, a fierceness in her young eyes he hasn't seen before.
He stays a bit longer, committing this moment to memory, and then he says his goodbyes. She watches him go, as he shifts into wind to go look for his otherself.
Because if there's anyone whom he'd absolutely trust with his family's safety, it's another aspect of himself.
He reforms into solid form again. A copy of Marmont's letter to Marshal Bessiéres and a sealed letter for Murat are tucked into his coat.
"Maréchal Bessières," he says, "The original of this letter found its way into our house somehow, and it burned after five minutes. In that time, I was able to make this copy. Marmont is ... he's still out there."
@rapports-de-combat @le-brave-des-braves
