Chapter 5 - From The Ashes
A/N: Warning: this story will have very triggering subject matter throughout. Individual trigger warnings will be placed with chapters when appropriate. Any feedback is really appreciated.
Content warning for this chapter: child pregnancy, teen pregnancy, immolation, torture, graphic depiction of violence.
Blanchefleur de la Croix basked in her hard-earned victory. Her birth family was gone. Finalizing the alliance with Mercia was well underway. And she'd finally reunited with her true family.
Though she could be frightfully annoying, Blanchefleur had missed Melisendre deeply. From her wisecracks to genuinely sound advice, Melisendre was truly her closest friend.
That and she was the only one willing and capable of managing their whore network.
Though she also trusted Swayne, the young man had a chip on his shoulder she feared nothing could heal. His tumultuous life had formed him into a man with a stark outlook on life.
Everything was either right, or wrong. Worthy of love or warranted hatred.
She knew he loved her as a mother despite their close age, but she needed to moderate his extreme views with other presences.
Overall, she was satisfied with the model she had created alongside her true family.
But Blanchefleur knew she could not celebrate for long, not presently anyway.
One could very well pen her current position as "safe." But she knew she still had several mountains to climb before that was the case. From her experience, there was a very fine but significant difference between the safe and secure. And it can be a matter of survival versus prosperity.
Naturally she wanted the latter.
There were many arrangements to be made, and Blanchefleur would not have total agency over them. She knew the transition from a neutral organization to a specific, public affiliation was the honorable course of action. What she feared was how that course would change as she shared power with anyone else because of that allegiance.
I am determined. We WILL prosper, and we WILL be heard!
She bit her lip and pondered a bit. The first mountain that took prominence was earning the Ragnarssons trust. Ceowulf had a fancy crown on his head, but the Norseman had unquestionable influence. They held leverage over the entire kingdom, so with the simple snap of their fingers, Blanchefleur's head could be removed from her shoulders.
I cannot let that happen. I will not let that happen!
If there was one crucial fact she had gathered about the brothers through widespread tales and her exclusive secrets, they cherished honor above all else. In life, death, and actions. Since she was not a fighter, she'd have to find ways to prove her honorable intentions in other ways.
She chuckled, thinking how they probably thought of her as someone who could speak and say the word honor in two languages, but certainly not practice it.
Little did they know, she held honor as a core value. She even considered adding it to her family's crest. Especially since they'd been dishonorable for so long. With them out of the way, she could finally replace the gaudy cross with something more elegant. More...fitting.
A heron will suffice for now.
"Mama?"
Blanchefleur snapped out of her trance at the sound of Melodie peeping up. She smiled at her beloved daughter; her blue eyes still reddened from having cried earlier. Her wispy red hair still shone brightly against the dingy dark of the dungeon they resided in.
"Ma petite chanson," Blanchefleur said, trying her best to sound warm in tone. The circumstances of Melodies' birth made it difficult for Blanchefleur to come to terms with their relationship. She liked to think she cared deeply for the girl, but even as her mother Blanchefleur struggled with translating that into actions.
"I... don't think he will survive another round," Melodie said. Using her cane, she motioned to the dungeon's main chamber.
Blanchefleur sighed. Melodie was referring to Aucassin, or rather, what was left of him.
She had her wretched blood brother chained from the ceiling. His naked flesh was riddled with burns, singed from repeated rounds of oil being set aflame on him only to be extinguished soon after. A form of torture Blanchefleur reserved for her most abhorrent foes.
His breathing was labored, interrupted by regular coughs and gags. After everything he had put her through it was practically music to her ears.
Blanchefleur eyed Melodie. The little girl was sniffing the air and cringing.
"What bothers you, child?" Blanchefleur asked.
"I am familiar with the smell of dead flesh. But...burning flesh is so...pungent!" Melodie noted. She fiddled with her cane nervously, averting her mothers gaze.
"Surely you have come across it as we've passed through pillaged towns?" Blanchefleur asked.
"Well, yes, but, I was able to maintain a fair distance between myself and the bodies," Melodie explained hurriedly.
"The close proximity is what's bothering you?" Blanchefleur deduced.
"Oui," Melodie said, fidgeting with her cane even more.
Blanchefleur knelt down and placed her hands on her daughter's shoulders. "You will see this again, and again, and again. Not just by my hand, but at the hands of our new allies," she said, firmly. Melodie continued to look down and nodded.
"I just...don't take joy in it," Melodie muttered.
"Neither do I. But this has to be done," Blanchefleur asserted.
"But why this way? Surely there are other ways to make him pay?" Melodie probed. The little girl was obviously discouraged. Blanchefleur had to guess it was because they were torturing a member of their birth family. Being bound to someone by blood made would naturally make anyone react in horror to such treatment. But this was different. Beyond different.
I best rectify that.
"Oui, but what better way than this?" Blanchefleur asked, smiling. This time her smile was effortless. Melodie scratched the back of her head, trying to make sense of her mother's words.
"You know the legend of the phoenix stories I would tell to lull you and the other children to sleep?" Blanchefleur asked. Melodie nodded. "Tell me," Blanchefleur coaxed her.
"It's a bird which cyclically regenerates. Bursting into flames and rising from ashes anew." Melodie recalled. "But I fail to see how that pertains to this, save for the fire?"
Blanchefleur chuckled. "Very good. Obviously Aucassin will not rise again, for he is to descend into the Christian hell," she poked her brother's calf, making him wince.
"So... what do you think will...rise?" Melodie asked.
"Us!" Blanchefleur stated, holding her fists to her chest triumphantly. Melodie beamed at her mother's confidence.
There is hope in you yet!
"I agree he will not survive another," Blanchefleur gathered. She hoisted a large jar of oil and tossed it on Aucassin's torso and back. The thick liquid draped his body from top to bottom. She didn't stop until he was completely coated.
"Please...please….no more!" He moaned pitifully.
"Aucassin de la Croix, you foul, cowardly soul. Your destination is hell, and I make it so!" She declared.
Not my finest poem, but it will have to do.
Blanchefleur picked up a torch hanging from the dungeon's wall. The flame hissed and crackled as water droplets from above dripped down. She looked at her daughter and suddenly got an idea. More of a test.
"Do it!" Blanchefleur ordered her.
Melodie stepped back; the fear was evident in her eyes. Blanchefleur looked at her, carefully analyzing her reaction. People would accuse her of being a cruel mother for putting a little girl through something like this. But Blanchefleur was determined to mold her daughter's personal constitution. It would take time, but every moment spent on lessons like this were invaluable.
She was strong enough for this. She just hadn't realized it herself yet.
Blanchefleur could only hope that would come in time, sooner rather than later.
But reflecting on her daughter's strengths and weaknesses had to wait for another day. For now, she had to settle with her daughter being uncomfortable with taking what was rightfully hers.
"Very well, ma petite," Blanchefleur said, prompting a sigh of relief from Melodie. She hobbled over to a wooden chair Blanchefleur had placed to view her handiwork.
He screamed at the top of his lungs, thrashing against the flames as they consumed him. Blanchefleur scooted Melodie off the chair and propped her onto her lap and watched the flames take her brother.
Melodie tried to avert her gaze by burying her face in her mother's robes, but Blanchefleur gently guided her head to watch the brutal execution.
"You have to learn as I did. Grow as I did. From the ashes of our foes, we will arise stronger than ever," she leaned her head against Melodies, stroking her hair tenderly. "And most importantly, know that this is what will happen to anyone who tries to separate us again."
"I... don't want that to happen," Melodie said, raising her voice to be heard over Aucassin's screams.
"Never again, Melodie," Blanchefleur reassured her. She gripped onto Melodie tighter. She took one last, hard stare at her brother. The rattling of his chains, violent at first, grew more and more still until he finally succumbed to the flames.
The only company he left was the crackling of his charred flesh slowly peeling off his mangled corpse.
Finally, Aucassin de la Croix was gone from this world.
One step closer to being safe.