Panache
by: Maven Alysse
Acknowledgments at bottom.
1640 during the siege of Arras.
Dawn was fast approaching as the soldier hurried down the side streets, blending with the shadows; the small village of tentative neutrality the only place for miles he could safely hire a courier to send messages home.
The letter on its way to his beloved - his soul on parchment - he once again made his way back to his regiment.
At a corner he paused, freezing in shock at the sight of a familiar figure striding boldly down the street. Watching the man with fond exasperation, all worries and concerns over the ongoing siege left him as he stepped out.
Cyrano Hercule Savinien De Bergerac – soldier, poet, philosopher and physician – doffed his hat at his comrade in arms. A small smile tugging at his lips, "My dear Baron. It's been an age, mon ami."
Hieronymus Karl Fredrick Baron von Munchausen – soldier, ladies man, consummate adventurer – grinned broadly, unsurprised; his own hat arching in an elaborate salute. "My dear Cyrano. Paris. That quaint pastry shop. You were writing a love letter if I recall," he sighed longingly, "to a most beautiful lady."
"And you had just returned from a journey from the moon." The two walked down the street in companionable lock-step. "I'd like to thank you for allowing me permission to relate the tale. It helped me out in a situation that could have become quite unseemly for the lady in question."
"Not at all, my dear boy. If one cannot take joy in the telling of the thing, why have adventures at all?"
As they walked down the street, the two swordsmen ignored the baleful glares they received from the few menfolk who peopled the street. Spanish peasants – not nobles or even soldiers – and thus beneath their notice.
Delicate features shyly peeked from half-drawn windows. Blushes tinted dusty cheeks, dark eyes glinted merrily and gently curving lips smiled down upon them as the women admired their handsome forms, their soothing cadences of speech, and their gallantry and courtesy as hats were swept off their heads and bows performed in passing. "Beautiful Ladies," Munchausen sighed.
"I did not expect to see you here," Cyrano stated. "Where are you headed?"
"India. I've just learned that my servant, Berthold, is being held by one of the ruing Lords in my stead. Apparently, I'm to make my presence known within three days time or they'll trim his beard." The Baron looked slightly puzzled by this. "Though I've never known him to wear one." He shrugged, expansively. "It'll all work out in the end."
Cyrano smiled, well used to his friend's eccentricities. "Then I shall not keep you further. You have transportation?"
"But of course. Bucephalus has been my loyal steed for years." He gave a sharp whistle and a beautiful white horse pranced arrogantly towards his master. Easily mounting, the Baron tipped his hat, the morning sun gleaming off his teeth. "I wish you success in your endeavors."
Cyrano raised a hand in salute, "And I, yours."
"Come, Bucephalus. Ho!" Cloak whipping behind him like wings, Baron Munchausen rode off, his horse's hooves ringing clear.
Cyrano de Bergerac watched the figure till he was well out of sight, then headed back to his regiment.
End 8/17/2009
A/N: Characters came from the following stories:
Cyrano de Bergerac = a play written in 1897 by Edmond Rostand. The story loosely based on the life of the actual Cyrano de Bergerac.
The Adventures of Baron von Munchausen = Baron Munchausen is a character from The Surprising Adventures of Baron Munchausen (or Baron Münchhausen's Narrative of his Marvellous Travels) by Rudolph Erich Raspe — a collection of tall tales published in 1785, based on the German adventurer Karl Friedrich von Munchhausen.
This particular story stemmed from the fact that the Baron had an adventure traveling to and from the moon, while Cyrano had spun a tale of falling from the moon in order to keep a Duke from interferring in a wedding in progress. I had to have the two meet. This story would have been set before the start of Act 4 of Cyrano de Bergerac – when Cyrano regularly crossed enemy lines in order to send love letters home.