Chapter 8 – Sowing Seeds
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.
Triggers for this chapter: depictions of violence, vulgar language, child pregnancy, teen pregnancy, child abandonment.
"And they call me a –! "Blanchefleur started to complain but stopped herself. She realized when Ubba was insulting her the day she reunited with Melodie he never finished his sentence.
"Bacraut?" Swayne suggested.
"Probably…" Blanchefleur mumbled. She could practically feel steam coming out of her ears. The fact Ivarr would so much as insinuate she didn't love her family, let alone her own birth daughter, was beyond offensive.
She'd taken refuge in the hall just outside the war room. She paced back and forth, her usual meditative strategy until she was ready to return to the war room. Swayne propped himself against a stone wall and watched her every move.
While Blanchefleur tried (and failed) to collect herself, it was difficult with the sound of Ivarr cursing and breaking pots down the hall. The only thing she imagined having in common with that brute was a shared hatred for one another.
Ubba suddenly barged down the hall and corralled his brother, locking his arms around Ivarr's torso and picking him up. Ivarr struggled as he was carried away, but Ubba far outweighed him.
Size does matter in some cases.
"La Mère, if I may?" Eivor approached her rather calmly.
"If you were a man, I'd say you have balls." Blanchefleur remarked.
"And I'd say I didn't mean to eavesdrop. But I'm sure everyone in Repton can hear you." Eivor joked.
But Blanchefleur wasn't having it. "I have no time for such humor, Wolf-Kissed. I simply wish to meditate in peace." She said bitterly.
"I have some insight that might help with that." Eivor said.
"A balm unlike anything else, how tempting." Blanchefleur said sarcastically.
Eivor crossed her arms. "You are La Mère. It matters not that you've changed part of your name and claim you love your agents. Your predecessor was evil. We have all lost friends, family, and loved ones. Betrayals directly attributed to her work. And now you've assumed this role for three years.
Eivor stepped forward in a bold display of confidence. Swayne stood up straight and furrowed his brow, squaring off with Eivor. Blanchefleur didn't anticipate a fight, just cocky posing she never cared for.
"So let me ask you this: why should we trust you at this point?" Eivor finished.
Blanchefleur blinked. Then quickly averted Eivor's gaze. A wave of an emotion she hadn't felt in some time quickly enveloped her.
Embarrassment.
It was a valid point. Her organizations reputation far superseded the actions she'd taken thus far. If she were to quantify it, Blanchefleur had barely tallied any actions to prove she was trustworthy.
"If you are as honorable as you claim to be, you will have to prove it. Just as we prove to be great warriors on the fields of battle. Take this as an opportunity to sow seeds of trust, and we'll move forward based on what fruit you bare." Eivor said firmly.
Blanchefleur shoved her ego down and nodded out of respect.
"I suspect Ivarr will calm down soon," Eivor said, smiling. She beckoned for them to follow. "You'd be surprised how much sway Ubba has over his brother."
"If not by temperament, then brute strength." Blanchefleur muttered half to herself. She straightened out her robes and took a quick glance around the hall. The servants had all but scattered. Undoubtedly to save themselves from Ivarr's wrath.
They made their way back to the war room, taking care to step over the ceramic shards. Though the soles of Blanchefleurs thick leather boots would surely protect her, she didn't want to contribute more to the already huge mess.
She certainly didn't envy those who'd be tasked with cleaning them up.
They returned to the war room and met their supposed comrades at the table. Ceolbert had placed a comforting hand on his fathers' shoulders. The two were unusually close compared to most monarchs and their children, at least compared to those Blanchefleur had come across. It was a heartwarming sight.
Ubba and Ivarr soon followed. Ivarr's face looked red and hot, probably embarrassed his brother had to handle him like a child throwing a tantrum. The brothers took their original places behind their new king.
"Continue." Ceowulf ordered.
Blanchefleur took her seat and tucked her hair behind her shoulders. "My father apparently died during my confinement. Believe it or not, the original plan was to have me return home after my child was born."
Blanchefleur sighed. "Aucassin assumed power. After Melodie was born and taken from me, he and Yvette visited me. To inform me I was to stay in the church." She said sadly.
Ubba shuffled his feet. "When did La Mère come for you?" Ubba asked.
"She didn't. Melisendre did. We've been friends since childhood. She was posing as a servant girl in our home as it turns out," Blanchefleur laughed. "Born and raised spy turned whore."
She looked Ceowulf dead in the eyes. "But I opted to stay."
"Stay?!" Ceolbert asked, dismayed. His glaring sense of innocence was borderline maddening. For a young man in his position, he must have been terribly sheltered to have such a blatantly shocked reaction. Or in his case, reactions.
"For revenge." She purred. She paid no mind to the involuntary change in her voice. She recalled the fateful week where she carved out her destiny. Yvette and Aucassin turning their backs, cruelly abandoning her. Melisendre had tracked her down but a week later, a ray of light both in looks and character. She had pleaded for Blanchefleur to leave. The neigh of horses reserved for an escape her snorting and breathing heavily just outside her cell, but Blanchefleur would not ride away.
"I was familiar with La Mère des Secrets at this point and wanted to reach out to her. I sent Melisendre on my behalf. I had to let my family believe they had won." She said almost gingerly. "I wanted to use La Mère to get what I deserved."
"How did you convince her you were worth her time?" Ivarr asked.
"La Mère only cared about one thing: coin. The church has a plethora of resources, as I'm sure you know from your regular pillaging. Luckily for me the priest at the church I was appointed at was a rampant drunk. It was easy to allocate money to La Mères operations while he took the blame. Like a moth to a flame, La Mère finally sought me out and made arrangements of our own." She explained.
"Like mother, like daughter." Ceowulf noted.
Blanchefleur ignored that comment, not wanting to ignite another row. "La Mère didn't have any softness about her, let alone for me. She just saw me as a lucrative, consistent asset. My mathematical skills paired perfectly with her impeccable memory and ability to rule with an iron fist. She arranged a new identity for me as a 'far more respectful' nun. A green stripling who was wholly dedicated to the faith. Over the years I'd route money from the church to La Mère." She said.
Blanchefleur smiled, knowing her pride was sparkling in her eyes. "And I was really. Fucking. Good at it."
Ubba narrowed his eyes at her, clearly not reciprocating any sense of being proud. Even in the face of an intelligent woman, the fact she was an information broker lowered her on his tier significantly.
"Over the years I climbed the ranks, both for my own purposes and to haul in more coin to La Mère. By some miracle I was welcomed in her inner circle. Thankfully she was so distracted by this boom in profits she never discovered my ultimate goal, for she would've thought that to be a waste of time and coin. So while I tried to formulate a plan of attack, I focused on allocating money to improve the conditions of our agents. The leverage of my inner circle position let me achieve this." Blanchefleur continued.
"So, you admit you helped the wretch in her trickster ways!" Ivarr accused her, jabbing a meaty finger in her direction.
"Yes. For the children. And I'd do it again. We wouldn't have grown and prospered as we do now were it not for that!" Blanchefleur protested.
Her temper boiled up to the surface yet again. Another seed was planted which grew exponentially to bear fruits of motherly rage.
"La Mère was cruel. Pigs meant for slaughter got better treatment than us before I came along! She took advantage of us because we were the damned, bastards, all abandoned by whatever social stigma forced us into that hellish existence! We were living in squalor while La Mère des Secrets gorged on wine, whores, food, clothes, and jewels!" She boomed. She leapt up and slammed her fists on the table. "We had no hopes. No dreams. Barely the ability to love!" Her testimony must've sent some kind of shockwave because everyone across the table had widened their eyes.
"I treat them with compassion, just as my mother did when she was still alive. We have formed a bond unlike any other. Earning my families love and respect became a part of my goal. I was proud then, I will continue to be proud, and no one, not even you sons of Ragnar Lothbrik, can take that away from me!" She declared, pounding her chest with a closed fist.
Ow.
They stared each other down in silence. She could only imagine the smug look on Swayne face, always inflating his ego with the respect he had for his mother. The Ragnarssons seemed to be absorbing her proclamation and internally processing it.
Have fun chewing on that!
"La Mère?" Ceolbert asked, finally breaking the silence.
Blanchefleur eyed the boy. He was adorably polite but socially awkward. He struck her as the type to make amends with anyone he'd wrong, or who his companions had wronged. His insensitive comment earlier certainly rubbed her the wrong way. Still, he was trying. Extending the best olive branch he could.
She'd be rude not to take it.
"It's just… I find it hard to believe La Mère accepted your approach. If she prioritized coin so much, why would she support your efforts to better the lives of your family?" He asked, scratching the back of his head.
Blanchefleur raised her eyebrows, impressed. "Very good, Ceolbert. She only cared about maintaining her lifestyle. With the amount of coin we were raking in it was more than enough. So as long as that was maintained, she would allow me to continue to support our agents. It also motivated people to flock into our family, further increasing our profits. The most she ever did was voice her opinion on how she thought my efforts were pointless, but I'd distract her with wine and she'd focus on something else." Blanchefleur explained.
She sighed and closed her eyes. She was not looking forward to the next part of her tale. "But this led La Mère to fear a mutiny. My humanitarian efforts had my popularity grow dramatically. Overtime people started referring to me as 'La Mère des Bậtards." She used to chuckle at that nickname but given what was to come next, joy easily escaped her.
"So, how did La Mère deal with you?" Ceowulf asked.
"La Mère…that bitch!" She said through gritted teeth. "She assigned me a mission, four years past. She claimed she found another church tucked away in a forested area we could bring into our fold. We journeyed there together, which was highly unusual. She strongly preferred the confines of grand castles. But you never argued with La Mère. Dressed in my nun garb I walked through the church, getting a lay of its architecture as we always did before recruitment. But I soon realized why the bitch wanted me there."
She paused for a moment. "I saw Melodie."
Ubba drew in a sharp breath.
"Thankfully Melodie didn't know who I was and I got out of there as quickly as I could. I reported back to La Mère immediately. She knew the entire time where Melodie was! She made it clear if I attempted any coup, not that I was planning one, she would have Melodie taken, tortured, and force me to watch for the rest of my days." Blanchefleur gripped her sleeves tightly, bunching up the fine fabric.
"What did you think when you saw her?" Eivor asked.
La Mère rubbed her temple, frustrated they would have her revisit such sensitive memories. "With all due respect, I do not see how that is relevant. It would compromise her privacy. I take no issue with laying my situation bare. But a child seldom has the right to do so of their own free will." She argued.
Eivor nodded respectfully and seemed to drop the issue.
"I'm surprised you didn't kill her after that. Were you not outraged after all you did for her?" Ivarr probed.
"I didn't kill her for the same reason you didn't kill Burgred: legitimacy. I feared if I killed her and others discovered this, they would fear me. I have no qualms with intimidation tactics. And I don't mind killing now that La Mère is dead. But killing La Mère back then would greatly threaten my position. I needed my birth family murdered. Losing the trust of my true family could've compromised that." She said.
"Thankfully soon after that, La Mère died." Blanchefleur said, relieved the monster had left this life. "La Mère's lifestyle caught up to her. Died in her sleep of apparent heart failure." She said happily. "I still remember her bloated corpse lying on the floor. Seeing her obese, rotten flesh was one of the best sights I've ever had."
Ivarr smirked but quickly hardened his expression. He probably didn't want to express approval to La Mère. Not yet, at least.
"So you seized power, I take it?" Ceowulf asked.
"No. I managed to exile those in La Mères former inner circle. Framed them for crimes to arrange for that. I replaced them with people I could trust. They represent key factions of our family, and I can introduce you when we're finished here. It spreads out the work so it's not just one person with power and responsibility. They elected I become the next Mère." She explained.
"Then why did you take so long to reach out to us? Wouldn't someone as 'honorable' as you reach out as soon as possible?" Ubba challenged her.
"The past three years we've been overhauling our infrastructure to track resources across England and abroad. The sheer volume of our resources was…overwhelming. We didn't want to approach anyone until we were organized." She explained.
"And during those three years you still caused major harm with your tricks!" Ivarr said.
"As I said, spies are a part of this world. We didn't want news of our new structure found out until my birth family was taken care of!" She said, trying to sound confident. She feared if she couldn't convince the Ragnarssons her agents were useful, this alliance would soon deteriorate.
Ivarr sneered at her but said nothing. With what knowledge she had off the top of her head, Ivarr had a well-founded reputation of hating spies. She'd had frequently heard disturbing reports of him torturing spies for pleasure. Hopefully he'd spare her.
"So! There you have it. My story, or saga, if you will. Satisfied?" La Mère said.
"Just one other thing." Ceowulf said.
Blanchefleur resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She was growing tired of her own voice. While she was proud of everything she had achieved, she felt like she was taking too much space. She wanted to show the first set of scrolls to bring everyone up to speed and help her family settle in. They'd been through a lot the past couple of days.
"Why did you choose Mercia, and not some other kingdom? I'm sure others would've jumped at the chance to have you on their side." Ceowulf reasoned.
Oh no.
Blanchefleur tensed up a bit. She feared they would explode at her motivations. But she promised honesty. A quality she held close to her heart.
"The Britons don't have the great heathen army backing them. I dared not approach your brother, Halfdan, in Jorvik given your cultural disdain for spies. You have a powerful army and the goal of ruling peacefully between Saxons and Danes. You're the safest option. Should you have refused, I would have gone with King Aelfred of Wessex." As she listed her less favorable alternatives, she counted them by holding up her fingers.
Ubba scoffed at her loudly. "You'd ally yourself with one of our greatest enemies?!" He asked.
"Believe me, I didn't want to but had to consider him as an option. Have you ever met the man?" She said, biting her lip.
"No. But when we do, we'll remove his head and parade his fucking corpse in the streets!" Ivarr growled.
What a "lovely" thought.
She peeled off a bit of skin from her chapped lips with her teeth. "Consider yourselves lucky then. I met him when I was helping some of our agents infiltrate Wessex. He called upon me to commemorate me for my dedication to the faith," she shook her head. "Tch, he's probably the only man whose zealous nature is on par with my birth fathers."
She spread out her arms to figuratively lay out her point. "And that's just it. Our organization welcomes people from all walks of life. We do not discriminate against any faith. If we were to share power with him, he would most likely force all of us to convert to Christianity." She looked at them firmly.
"We cannot stand for that. On top of that, I would probably have to continue posing as a nun to gain his favor. But I abandoned the faith, oddly enough on the day I was forced to stay in the church. I would be hiding yet again," She firmly placed her hands on the table. "I. Am done. Hiding." She said curtly.
She clicked her tongue and shrugged. "But he is a brilliant military strategist. I don't have any military experience. But something…is special about him. Like he has a million mechanisms running simultaneously behind those devious eyes of his. He's someone to keep an eye on." She said, waving her fingers on the right side of her head as she pictured the young king.
"Am I right to assume my position as a father was factored in?" Ceowulf asked.
"That aspect of your life is honestly a double-edged sword. On one hand, you can sympathize with having children. And it's clear you're very involved in Ceolbert's life out of concern for his welfare. But you were a theign, now a sovereign. People are right to suspect you may have bastard children. Even if you know not of their existence, it fits the stigmas many of my family members suffer from." She explained.
She clasped her hands together and pointed them at Ceowulf. "I am not insinuating that you are a bad man, my king. You simply asked a question, and I responded. I favor honesty, regardless of how painful it is." She reassured him.
"Hmph. Truth from a spy? Tell me that is not an obvious paradox!" Ivarr complained.
"Perhaps I should've been called La Mère du Paradoxe." Blanchefleur chuckled.
"I am in no such mood for jests. Not from the likes of you." Ivarr spat.
"We have enough for now." Ceowulf glanced back at the Ragnarssons.
Ubba stepped towards La Mère. He was practically a giant compared to everyone else in the room. He glared at Blanchefleur with his icy gray eyes. "Know this, La Mère. If you so much as put one toe out of line, we will destroy you. And everything you claim to hold dear."
"Noted." She said quietly. She put her shaky hands behind her back before peering past Ubba's bulky torso to make eye contact with Ceowulf. "Can we finally begin?" She asked.
Ceowulf nodded. "Ubba." He said, prompting Ubba to retake his place beside his brother. She swirled some spit in her mouth, relubricating her tongue which had dried out from all the talking. Blanchefleur turned to face Swayne.
"Fetch the first set of records," she ordered. He quickly paced out of the room and returned with a large trunk. Blanchefleur took a thick key from her pocket and unlatched the hefty iron lock. Opening it, she revealed a thick stack of scrolls.
"This is only some of the information we've gathered of your operations over the years. For transparency." She said.
"Great! More reading!" Ivarr whined.
"Perhaps you'll leave this to me, Ivarr?" I can report to you with my findings." Ceolbert offered.
"No. I want to know everything this bacraut knows about us!" Ivarr retorted.
As he quickly dug through the scrolls, Blanchefleur finally let her shoulders relax. A nauseating sense of relief waved through her mind. She went into this meeting prepped to summit mountains. But now she could only hope she'd sown the seeds necessary to create a formidable bond. If not for her, then her families.
I've always preferred gardening anyway.