Note - The facts in this story are very roughly researched, so please do not email me concerning any variation from actual history. I will claim now, that I do not know what actually happened and this story has been outlined due to the knowledge I have at this moment and I will not change them. Please consider any changes to be intentional (as some are) and just accept them as the story line.

Note - There will be French phrases included in the dialog as much as I can manage it. My story is arranged into a French setting and, at first, they are technically speaking only French. All French in this story is very roughly translated and indicated by the italic style. I do not speak French and all phrases used will either be common phrases or titles. I use an online translator for any phrases I include in the story so it is not guaranteed to be 100% accurate. You may email about these but I will probably only change them if the mistake is incredibly significant.

Note - There will be a chart at the end of each chapter giving you the literal translation I am using by order of appearance. If you have any confusion or wish to look it up what each French translation means it will be at the end. The exceptions to this will be the title of the chapters which will always have the literal translation listed with it and the end line which will never have a translation for it (Though if it is not obvious to you it only says 'Chapter # End'). A good way to quickly look up a definition will be to use Ctrl + F. Copy and paste the french word or phrase into the search bar. That will take you to the end for the definition then you can click back and go right back to where you left off.

I hope that was understandable and thank you for your cooperation and for reading this all the way through. You have my sincere appreciation.

Chapter 1


Le Fils Bâtard
(The Bastard Son)

:.o.:

I grunted in exertion as I lifted the stack of hay over my shoulder and carried it toward the stable. The sun was hot in the sky overhead and there was a gentle breeze that carried the scent of the blossoming flowers. Spring in Paris was always a pleasant time, but a dark reminder of the heat of labor during the summer season.

"Nicolas," a sweet, gentle voice called from inside the stable; an urgent, almost frustrated voice, "do you have the hay yet?"

I smiled to myself at my dear mother's work ethic. "Oui, Chere Mère, I am coming."

I entered through the wide, open doors and heaved the stack of hay to the ground. "Here you are, Mère." I smiled at her when she turned to look at me from where she tended the empty horse's stable. My smile faded at the frown on her face.

"What took you so long?" She socked me on the ear as she walked up, then looked me in the eye. "Fils d'idiot, we need to hurry and finish our chores for the day lest we anger les seigneurs again."

Instantly, I turned spread the hay into the stables for the horses. Mother always knew what to say to make me start working. When the lords are displeased, they take their anger out on her and she is severely beaten. I would do anything for my mother and keep her from harm if I can. She is the only thing that keeps me going in this vile life.

As soon as our chores were finished for the day and it was time to retire, we started heading back to the servants quarters. On the way, mother turned to me and smiled. It was a sight that always warmed my heart. "Are you ready to celebrate your birthday?"

I could feel the surprise spread over my face, but I quickly shut it down as I began to worry. "You didn't spend all your savings on this did you?"

She only grinned at me smugly and turned her head back towards the quarters, never actually answering my question. I knew that it meant she had, but I couldn't yell at her now. I knew she had worked hard to save it for this occasion. Today was my 26th birthday and tenth year helping her work out in the fields. She didn't get very much money and she had no social status in the village, so she wasn't able to spoil me very often. Of course, I never cared about that. I was happy if she was happy, especially after all she had done for me.

When she was younger and trying to make a living with the poor social status she was born into, Mother was raped by the lord she currently works for. I am the bastard result of that sin. I don't think I would have cared about that, but, unfortunately, the lord's lady found out and ran away. That was when my mother's regular beatings started as the deterrent for anymore gossip among the other servants. The lord keeps us around so that word doesn't spread, as he looks for a new wife to erase one scandal in his life.

So, as my mother smiled to herself in her usual carefree way, I chuckled to myself and let her enjoy this moment. Anything she wanted, I would give to her, because her love and happiness was my life. We walked through the old, gray, splintered doors joyfully. Regrettably, our joy vanished instantly when we saw the copper headed lord of our fief standing inside.

"Le Seigneur," my mother said as we both threw ourselves to the floor in submission. "To what do you we owe your presence?" she spoke to the floor. I felt my gut twist into knots. I hated when the lord found something to punish Mother for, as there was nothing I could do if he thought he reason was valid enough. I wanted to see my mother's expression to see if she was thinking the same thing, but I knew better than to lift my gaze from where it was glued to a specific spot on the floor.

My lord and father finally spoke. "Camille," my mother rose with her head still bowed, "There is something I must discuss with you." He kicked his shoe in my direction. "Garçon, you may stand." I stood and faced him but left my face blank. Carefully void of any emotion he would find insulting or use against me. He gave me a condescending look. "This includes you as well." He then looked back at my mother.

"Camille." He said, an order for attention.

"Oui, monsieur." She bowed slightly as etiquette demanded in this situation.

"There has been a rumor that I will be remarrying again sometime this season. Have you heard it?"

"Oui, monsieur." There was a slight pause as we waited for our lord to continue. The knot in my stomach twisting even more.

"Well, I have come here to tell you that those rumors are true." There was another pause and my mother seemed to realize that he was waiting for her response.

"Congratulations, monsieur."

"Thank you." Another slight pause. The tension in the room started to make me nauseous. "Unfortunately, I have some bad news for you." I braced myself for the next words. "I am worried that if ma fiancée were to find out that I have a bastard son, we would have a repeat of my last scandal."

That had me confused and it changed my worry for my mother, but into dread and tension over his meaning. Another pause meant that our lord was waiting for my mother's response again.

"I'm not sure I understand your meaning, Seigneur." Her words came out slow and careful, but the lord was quick to respond.

"I do not want him here when I bring home ma femme. Therefore, I am selling him to the neighboring fief before she arrives." The words hit me like a blow to the face. I am sure that my expression betrayed me even as I tried to retain my composure, but my mother's face remained completely neutral.

"And what about me, mon seigneur?"

"You shall stay here and be the house maid de ma femme. You our the best servant I have ever owned, and you have proven that you know the value of silence. This bâtard has not."

I felt my anger flare, but forcibly bit it down. Then something happened that I never thought would.

"Jamais! You cannot take my son from me. It was one thing when you took my body from me unwillingly, now you take my love too! You are sin incarnate on this earth and I shall despise you forever do you do this to me!" Tears spilled from her eyes as she screamed at the lord who stood in shock. She then slowly sank to the floor as her words died down and her sobs overwhelmed her body. "Non! Non…."

I ran to her side as each sound of her sobs ripped through my heart. "C'est bon, la mère cher." I spoke softly to her as I stroked her hair.

At this time the lord recovered from his paralyzed state and started to walk toward us. "Stop!" I shouted at him and surprisingly he did. "Do not come near me. I am needed now and I fear I will lose my temper should I see your vile face any longer." When he hesitated, I shouted again, "Go! Go now!" and he did.

The next day the lord was in the worst temper the castle had ever seen. When it was at it's worst, my mother was called for a private audience. I begged her not to go, but she had her mind set on apologizing for her actions. So, in the end I let her go off to the castle, as I stood by behind and helplessly watched her go.

I paced the servant quarters for several hours, waiting for her to return. Each aching second passed slower and slower than the one before it. I knew she was being beaten. That was an unpleasant reality, but never had I seen the lord so angry, and never had we ever spoken back to him in such a manner. I wondered if it would be my turn next.

Then there was a knock on the door. I hurriedly opened it, and caused myself to trip in my mania, only to see the town doctor at my door. The rest of the day passed by in a haze racing by as I seemed to be moving through it as if through water. My mother was brutally beaten to the point that she had injuries that the doctor didn't know how to heal her. Fortunately, she was unconscious so she couldn't feel the pain as she died before my eyes. They kicked me out of the room before I could say anything to her and sent me back home alone.

I stumbled back into the servant quarters with tears in my eyes, nothing feeling real. It wasn't until I saw my mother's empty bed that the fact even sunk in. I began to sob uncontrollably as I fell onto her cot. The sobs formed a ball in my throat and shook my whole body as tears poured down my face. "Mère!" I shouted at nothing in particular. "Mère…. Mère, where are you?" My cries were choked by the knot still in my throat and by the sobs that were still raking my whole body.

As I finally cried myself out and simply laid in my mother's cot, curled in a ball as I imagined her there with me. I looked up at her shelf. It was then that a new emotion filled me. The entire shelf had already been cleaned off. All mementos of my mother taken from me. I jumped up at it's sight and screamed. A rage so scalding that I started to lose all feeling filled me. It mixed with my sorrow into a new strange emotion that erased all thought from my brain.

Soon, I started acting on instinct. I couldn't think, I could only feel. I felt myself grab something from the quarters then I ran out the door and headed for the castle. As soon as I entered I headed right for the staircase and let impulse lead me to the lords chambers. I saw him sleeping so soundly in his bed and my rage intensified. I wanted to smash his face in, but my body reacted before I could guide any direction. My fist simply swung forward and I felt a squish as it landed onto his chest.

It wasn't until I heard the following groan that my mind cleared enough to process what had happened. The first thing I realized, was that there were still tears running freely down my cheeks. Next, I looked down and saw that I my hand was still wrapped around the carving knife I had apparently grabbed on my way out of the servants quarters. I jerked my hand away from it like it would sting and held my hand close to my chest. That momentum was enough to send my falling to the ground in my delicate state.

"Nicolas…" I heard a gurgling noise from the bed. I stood slowly at the sound of my name. I saw the lord still struggling to hold onto life, though I knew it would not last long. I had stabbed him in the chest, so even if he was lucky that I missed the heart, I still would have punctured a lung. I looked at his face and tried to forget what I had done.

The lord's eyes were already starting to drift in and out of focus as he spoke to me. "Nicolas… my… son…." And with that my rage returned.

"Non!" I interrupted. "Non…" I laughed gently. "I am not your son. You are my blood, but not my father. You have killed ma chere mère, but long before this night you had deserved what has come upon you. I will not let you try to ease your conscious with me. I may suffer because my actions this night, but I will never regret them. May you endure the devil's eternal wrath, vous le morceau de merde."

With that I saw the light fade from his eyes and the horror didn't return. I truly did not feel sorry that I had taken a man's life. That was when I realized that I had officially gone mad. I stared at the face of the man that could have been my father. I saw the cerulean blue eyes that were the mirror image of my own and bone structure that had always made both of us considered beautiful. I saw so many resemblances to my own self, that I did finally start to feel sick. Not out of regret or guilt, but out of resentment. We looked so much alike even though I despised him so.

The horror of it sent me to my knees, putting my face directly in line with the knife still resting inside the lord's chest. My hand shook violently as I let it reach forward and grab it from its repulsive sheath. Blood clung to it as it dried to a nasty shade of brown. I brought it closer to my face and stared at it intently.

"This blood is my own." I started to lose track of my actual surroundings as visions of mother came to me. While they did I began to walk. Walk away from this ugly sight, away from the sickness that man still made me feel. "My blood has killed all that I have cared for." I saw my mother, with her long, black hair that I inherited, blowing in loose strands in the wind as she hugged me close after a long day. "My blood is tainted." I began to cry again as a small pale hand caressed my cheek and I saw that beautiful complexion she always prided that I also had. "I have to end this tainted bloodline." I slumped into a bank next to a random street and looked into her big, warm, brown eyes that I had never seen hold any emotion except kindness. "I need to see ma chere mère." I held the dirtied blade over my wrist. 'I love you,' she said to me as she kissed my forehead goodnight. "Je vous aime." I drew the blade down in a sharp jolt and the world faded away on a obscure shadow that engulfed my pain.

:.o.:

Chapitre Une Fin

:.o.:

Author Note - This is a work-in-progress story. I am sorry to say that it is not currently being updated as my time is being occupied by two other stories. It has already been sitting without an update for almost a year. It was simply on the wrong site () and I have finally moved it over. If you want to read more, add this story to you alerts so you can see when I finally get around to updating this. Or, if you like my writing style, you may occupy your time with another one of my stories which is being updated. For once I finish one my Harvest Moon fic, I will start on this on again. Sorry for the inconvenience.

Loves,
~Nikra

p.s. - Now please enjoy your list of Translations for chapter one.

French Translations


Oui - Yes

Chere Mère - Mother Dearest

Mère - Mother

Fils d'idiot - Idiot Son

Les/Mes Seigneurs - The/My Lords

Garçon - Boy

Oui, Monsieur - Yes, Sir

Ma Fiancée - My Fiancée

Ma Femme - My Wife

Bâtard - Bastard

Jamais - Never

Non - No

C'est Bon, la Mère Cher - It's okay, Mother Dearest

Vous le Morceau de Derde - You Piece of Shit

Je Vous Aime - I Love You