'Le Bastille

~Chapter One~

The Guard heard it before he saw it, a small, feeble rustling of leaves. Curious, the young man walked over and peered into the nearby underbrush. Looking around the area, he tried finding the source of the ground intrusion, but it was in vain. Shaking his head, he went back to his post. Another Guard, who, to his own dismay, was named Picard, walked over, chuckling.

"You, my friend, have no idea how funny it is to watch you there, running back and forth every five minutes! What are you even chasing there, John?"

John, as his name was, held his head high but refused to respond. Shrugging, Picard walked away, and, without a glance, returned to his assigned place along the wall.

The next time John found the bush shaking; he simply ignored it, and looked towards the sky. And when he thought he could hear gentle footsteps, he closed his eye and waited. But when he heard the hiss of steel, his eyes flung open and he looked towards Picard's station. Finding Picard in his regular Post, he spun around, grabbing his sword. He was then met with complete, and utter...

Nothingness.

~Jean: One Hour Later~

It was a long night. At a mere hour past Nightfall, Jean found a group of soldiers barge into his room, out of breath. As they had it, after the past disappearances, a platoon of, what they weren't sure, had broken through the Curtain - Which, of course, being an experienced General and Strategist Jean had absolutely no idea what meant - and were advancing into the Outer Bailey. That last bit, at least, Jean understood.

Gathering what little grace he could, the Baron drew his sword form its scabbard and left his Quarters. Assuming compliance, the group of men followed suit. Jean, being talented yet overconfident, was clouded by lack of concern at the situation, while his men kept tugging at their sheaths in a mixture of anxiousness and fear; whether the King died or not, blood would be spilled. In addition, being his guards, they would be first in line for any attacks.

Slowing slightly, he let one of his Guards, Picard, catch up pace even with him.

~Picard~

"Captain?" Jean then said, almost casually.

"Yes Sir?" Picard replied.

"Damage and Casually report; where are we and what are we facing here?"

"Well, Sir, as of now we've only lost a handful of men around the Outer Parapets near the Eastern Tower. However, there's a Damn good lot 'a those little things. It appears they've skipped the bridge and gone straight for the Inner Bailey. That or the Gatehouse… it's not too clear."

"Their men" Jean started: "what kind of strategy are they going for?"

Silence accompanied their footsteps until Picard finally found a suitable answer.

"Well, as of before they had focused mainly on attacking our men with a hit-and-run tactic - using Mages and Archers from afar."

He paused to let the words sink it; Jean had few well-trained Wizards on his team.

"However" Picard continued: "they are now trying to scale our walls - they're changing strategies on us."

This, at least, made Jean smile.

"Sir?" Picard asked, "what shall our plan of action be?" Jean looked at the young knight, a mixture of glee and slinkality portrayed across his face.

"We go for the bigger blade!"

Having said so, Jean ran ahead through the threshold of the keep, and left Picard with his thoughts. At least, that is what Picard thought. In seconds, the group of men around him found themselves running after Jean, Battle Cries coming from their hard-worn throats.

Picard was then left alone with his thoughts. First and foremost, he chuckled to himself. The flock might scare the kitchen maid from her dishes, but the entire invasion was happening on the opposite side of the castle-grounds. You would expect an astound General and his Hench to have at least thinner skulls than that… wouldn't you?

He shook his head in answer to his own Question.

The Woman's Dormitory was that way.

Sighing, he ran off to find his Baron. It was going to be a long night. And somewhere, 8 centuries later, a boy sat and wrote those exact words in-bed while looking for something to do.

It was going to be a long night.

~Picard~

As soon as they had left, right on queue, Mina, a young serf who worked the dishes and housekeeping, found herself running as fast as her two legs could carry her, out the kitchen door. Picard once again shook his head in bewilderment. Even though he had lived in the castle since being conquered 11 years ago, the castle itself was huge. Many hundred acres were contained within its walls… making it a maze you could lose yourself in for days on end if you weren't careful. So, naturally, Picard took less than five minutes to find all four men.

Also, of course, when Jean stood to face his Captain, the first thing out of the Baron's sheepish lips was;

"All clear here! Nothing to worry about, Captain."

Silently, Picard wondered how Jean had managed to take over the structure as he had. 11 years will run numbers on people but…

Shaking his head, Picard motioned towards the hallway.

"Shall we get moving then, Sir?" Picard asked the Baron.

"Of course." came his gruff reply.

Dusting himself off, Jean and his accompaniment left the dormitory and went back through the main hall and into the Freezing November Night. Grimly, Picard found himself smiling at the humor of it. A certain boy in the future didn't think it that funny. Rather, he sat Scratching his head confused.

~Jean~

Jean, now back to his former glory, charged with his team and held his hand high, placing it in the air and motioning with two-fingers opposite the other; a symbol for the two guards currently on his left to round up men to Jean's left, and the two oppositely on his right to do similar. Nearby men-at-arms joined in as well, and soon a group of two-dozen men stood around Jean, waiting eagerly.

And Jean was not one to disappoint his guests.

Placing eighteen under Picard's command, he and his squad of Six broke off from the main group and trudged down the frigid walkways of dirt and cobble-stone until they finally reached the Postern Gate. No lanterns lit this section of The Wall, nor it's gate. Nodding to one of his men, a young guard stepped forward and slid the heavy Steel door open.

Jean motioned for another of his men to step forward, and asked his name.

Nodding, the guard came over to Jean. He stood eye to eye with his Baron, and Jean was a good 6 feet tall. The soldier then said:

"William, Sir!"

Jean stopped dead in his tracks.

~Ten Years Prior~

Standing, facing him stood a young dwarf and a group of his brethren. When Jean took a step forward, so did the young dwarf. Both men motioned for their own to stay where they were, but they themselves advanced. Jean took one look into the lieutenant's eyes and knew he was just a boy. By human standards he would still be a squire; he was under 21. A mixture of fear and strength was set in his jaw and eyes, his very expression. Whether the boy accepted it or not; they both knew in a battle to the death than Jean would succeed. But then again, was the young dwarf fighting for his life, or his honor?

"Dwarf!" Jean called out, "what is your name, son?"

The dwarf stopped and called out: "My name is William! I come with orders from his majesty to slay all who dare enter! Leave now and your men will be banished but spared! Fight and so long as his majesty lives you will be criminals! It is your choice and yours alone!" This last bit the lieutenant said almost pleading with Jean.

Jean looked once again into the boy's eyes and, grimly, he responded with "I have no reason to leave, William. I came here to fight, and either I go home a hero or I die trying." "Please," Jean said, his voice now pleading, "forgive me."

Jean raised his sword to fight.

~Presentish~

William looked worriedly at his Baron until he finally snapped back.

"Are you alright, Sir?"

Jean simply gave a small nod, staring off somewhere behind William. They stood like that for a few minutes, no-one daring move a muscle.

Finally, after some-time, Jean licked his lips and started off towards the Eastern Tower. Many worried glances were cast between Jean's 8 men. Many.

~Picard~

Picard waited a few seconds until he saw his Baron and Squad leave before he got to his own men.

"Alright, men!" Picard called out "You know what the Man said! So get a move on!"

Now revved up, his troops each unsheathed their things; swords, hammers, etc., and followed Picard through the Courtyard towards the Eastern Tower. One of his assigned squires quickened his Pace until even with Picard. The young boy then asked: "Captain? We might have a prosperous community within these walls, but we are not at war with any neighbors, and it's been almost 11 years since we took over Vroengard. Or, at least, The Castle. Our walls are twelve-feet-thick, and we have dozens upon dozens of guards. Certainly no-one would be foolish enough to try taking over, would they? Wouldn't the villagers rebel? Everyone here loves Baron Jean's leadership, am I incorrect? Oh, but what if… maybe one of Jean's council is rebelling! And this is really just some kind of distraction?! What if all of this is one big conspiracy! What if Galbatorix is somehow involved! By the gods! What if we're all dreaming and none of us are who we think we are?! What if actually-"

Picard covered the Squires mouth with his spare hand, and looked the boy straight in the eye, saying:

"Kid, when you were a babe, were you hit really, really hard in the head with a rock?"

A worried expression swept across the young Boy's face.

"How… why did… Why do you ask, Captain?"

~End of Chp 1~

Hope you guys enjoyed! I have chapter 2 out for you to read if you enjoyed it. Feel free to comment!