The few days after our...spat that night after d'Arque's visit were defined by a tense silence. Neither of us said a thing to the other, we simply went about our days. I balanced the books, rotated the booze as needed, and served the drinks. Gaston shot critters and made sure men separated their coin from their pockets and AGAIN completely ignored the de Rhin sisters despite their constant fawning over them, a fact that ALWAYS turned my damn stomach.

When we'd been younger I'd developed a crush on the the eldest and unofficial leader of the triplets, the red-clad Claudette. And to those jackasses who say what was the difference between them...shut up! They HAVE distinct personalities thank-you very much! Just had to remove my dear brother from the scene and they got their wits and personalities back. I could never figure out just what the hell the guy had or was doing to make them go soft in the head like that.

For example there Claudette, the one in the red for those without a visual guide. She was older than her sisters by at least ten minutes and ever since they were little she'd led them in most of their endeavors. She had the most outgoing demeanor, if you approached them it was usually Claudette that started the conversation. She also had a temper...which surprised me.

I hadn't interacted with her or her sisters much when I was younger, getting beat up by geriatric veterans ate up much of my time, but when I was sixteen, the de Rhin triplets started working in the tavern as barmaids. Which is where I got to see Claudette's actually personality when whatever Bolivian Brain Bug-field my brother exuded on her wasn't in effect.

It was maybe a few months after they started working, all three sisters were running drinks back and forth because a small group of soldiers that had been marching to the front and had managed to find our village to bivouac. They'd been part of general Moreau's army facing across from Imperial troops after pushing across the Rhine and had managed to get lost and find our little place to the spend the night.

What all those paintings and pictures fail to convey is that early 19th century soldiers were a bunch of thuggish slobs. They stank, they drank, they smoked, they were loud crude and obnoxious. Also they were grabby with the pretty help.

Grabby customers had always been a risk and one that pops would have no truck with, often throwing the offenders out on their tails with black eyes added on for good measure. That night was different...mostly because they had guns and lots of them... so we held our tongue and clenched our fists and I thought I once heard dad mutter something about 'if only the king' at one point.

Gaston was out of town, up in the mountains on a hunting trip, the one time I had ever wished the clod was there. Beau, for all his flaws, has charisma coming out of his ears even at that age and if anyone could keep this night from ending in tragedy it was him.

Well the night dragged on, the drinks kept coming and the soldiers got rowdier and rowdier, pops had gone into the celler to get another .

Then as Claudette was taking a couple of steins to one of the tables the whole night nearly took a turn for the worse.

One of the troops, a Private actually managed to goose Claudette as she walked past. He was young, couldn't have been older than be if that. He wasn't all that tall and thin as a rake with lanky red hair and freckles interspersed with acne. He also had one of the THICKEST country accents I'd ever heard. Where had they even found this guy? If we were provincial than this guy must have been from the howling wilderness.

Regardless the clod had managed to get a good pinch of Claudette's backside. He'd been trying all night with all three girls but they'd managed to dodge every attempt with a spin and light swat. It was actually kind of impressive how good they got so quickly. But this time he'd waited until she was busy laying out one of the steins to a table adjacent to his own when he made his move.

Claudette jolted for an instant and went stock still, the clod just laughed and crowed to his buddies like he'd won some competition...which I guess he had in his own booze-addled mind.

Claudette's face never changed from that cheerful smile she'd had all night but she slowly turned around and face the young man who goosed her, she never said a word, just kept smiling and suddenly upturned and slammed the stein of beer still in her hand over his head, managing to actually wedge the thing far enough to cover his eyes. (Mild Cartoon physics eh?)

Everyone at his table had just laughed their heads off at their companion's predicament while Claudette just stood their smiling as sweetly as a cherub. All the while the sap was struggling to get the stein off his head.

Finally with a loud POP the mug came free...and promptly soaked the guy with the beer that had been sealed inside by his head. He spluttered and swore in outrage for a moment then red from embarrassment his eyes narrowed and he stumbled to his feet.

A chill went through me as I noticed that none of the soldiers made to stop him from doing something drastic and I wasn't sure I could jump in without getting myself or Claudette hurt.

"Yer gunna pay fer that ya b-" before he could even finish his sentence Claudette sprang into action, she doubled him over with a lightning fast punch to the gut. Wheezing in agony and trying to hold in all the beer he'd drunk that night he was then nailed over the head with a platter that had been sitting nearby. It made a lovely gonging sound and I think I saw stars spinning around his head for an instant. He moaned for a moment, his eyes crossed and he went down like a felled tree.

Claudette then smoothed her dress and went to get another drink to replace the one she'd used to clobber the soldier.

There was dead silence in the tavern as my heart jumped into my throat and began to reach for the ax we occasionally used to chop up the barrels when they'd gotten too old for any more use.

Then one old sergeant began laughing his head off, the rest of the tavern began laughing as well and all the tension fled like a deflating balloon as two privates picked up their downed comrade and and set him off to the side.

I simply stared at Claudette in amazement, I had no idea she had that in her...

Later that night when the last trooper, the old sergeant that had started the laughter earlier, had finally got to sleep, Claudette and I were the last people awake in the main room, pops and Claudette's sisters had already gone to bed. I was washing out steins while Claudette was cleaning the tables. Raising my head I took a breath and said, "So...earlier, the way you took care of Twiggy over there..." I gestured over to the guy Claudette had laid out earlier, still as out cold as a torch thrown into a snow drift.

Claudette went as red as her dress, "Y-yes..."

"That was amazing, down in two hits, even if he was drunk that was amazing where'd you learn to do that?" I said, honestly impressed I'd been taught how to throw a punch and brawl since I was six and I knew I good punch when I saw it and Claudette had an incredible right.

Claudette if anything went even redder, "I-I learned from my uncle Hans, he used to serve in the King of Bavaria's army, he used to visit our farm when we were little from time to time... and when I asked him to teach me he showed me a few things."

She then clasped my hands and she pleaded with the biggest puppy-dog eyes. "Oh you won't tell Gaston will you?"

Heart fluttering despite itself I spluttered, "W-what? Um okay...just why?"

Claudette turned her head shyly...and my brother ignored this?, and muttered, "Gaston wouldn't want a violent girl who beats up soldiers...Oh please don't mention this to anyone! Please! Please! PLEASE!"

I sighed then said, "Alright, alright! I won't breath a word, especially to my brother. Bu-"

I was cut off in my question when she giggled and glomped me...actually glomped me saying, "Oh thank-you Pierre. You're a true friend..." I was unable to say anything as sixteen year old hormones were letting out sirens that there were boobs! Boobs being pressed into me.

Then before I could say anything she just flitting off to bed, practically floating away. Christ I just got friend-zoned. So this is how it felt like...it BURNED!Glancing over at the comatose soldier I briefly contemplated planting that ax into his skull and be damned the consequences. I eventually managed to calm down enough to pour a full stein of beer over the crotch of his pants instead, making sure that it soaked in REAL nice. Then I went to bed where I proceeded to slam my head into a bed-post for what felt like an hour.

OOC: Got an encounter with Laurette the Amber wearing one half done as well as my interpretation for the song and dance numbers...need to be on the road for a few hours but should have it up by tonight.