Chapter 8: Famille
"Here you are, Mademoiselle."
Money passed between the vendor and buyer, and the groceries were handed over as well. Colette touched a hand to her stacked hair and smiled charmingly.
"Thank you, Monsieur." she said politely to the vendor, "And please say hello to your wife for me."
He reddened at the sight of the beautiful young woman smiling up at him. By the time he was able to form a response, she had slipped away.
Colette loved going to the market. It was a perfect place to obtain and show off the newest fashions, not to mention impress the many men who did not bother to hide their admiration. She thrived on the attention that she knew Sophie, just as beautiful as she (in a quieter way), so resented. Sophie would rather be home sleeping or reading, and Belle…
Her breath caught as she thought of Belle. Though her sister had barely left two weeks before, her absence could be felt tangibly in their house. Their father had withdrawn into himself, hardly speaking or eating, and Colette could tell from the candles disappearing at a rapid rate that he wasn't sleeping either. His silence and Sophie's meekness were fast driving her mad. It was partially for this reason that she had volunteered to go to the market. Another moment in that house and she knew she would scream. She looked down at the sprigged gown whirling around her slim frame and smiled. She really did look lovely.
"We meet again, Colette."
Colette groaned inwardly at the sound of a familiar voice.
"Monsieur Rachet." she acknowledged. Rachet was the only man who's attention she absolutely despised. He was rich and handsome, with blond locks and cold gray eyes. He was also arrogant, and even more vain than she was. She stiffened as his arm snaked around her waist
"Call me Pierre, Colette. I do not insult you with such a formal title."
"And yet you should, as my rank is as high as yours. My mother was of the house of Chalbert."
"Tut, Colette." Rachet clucked, tightening his hold on her, "Only half of your family has claim to prestige."
"It is nothing to laugh at. Half, and you treat me as you would any lowborn serving maid."
"Your mother gave up any right to call herself a lady when she married a man who's life's work was originally nothing more than a carpenter."
"You insult my father!"
"Only if you take it as such." Pierre's mouth was at her ear and she could smell the alcohol on his breath. She wrinkled her nose and squirmed out of his grip. Turning to face him, she wore a false smile as she slowly and discreetly backed away.
"In spite of this, you would attempt to woo me, Monsieur?"
"Indeed I would, Mademoiselle. Your beauty, no matter your rank, is second to none." He snatched her hand and caged it in his.
"What do you want with me, Rachet?" She snapped, taking her hand back. She could see another potential suitor from a distance, one she had been taken with, backing away, and it made her feel rather put out.
"Marry me, Colette." said Rachet. It was an offer that had been made before, and she rolled her eyes.
"If you wish for my hand, ask my father." Colette was relieved for this excuse. Unlike most fathers, Jean allowed his daughters say in who they would marry, and he had sent many a man scurrying away. Colette only hoped Jean could pull himself together enough to put this scoundrel in his place if needed.
"Why should I speak to a simple, addled merchant when it is truly your temple to govern?"
Colette danced out of his reach. "Then, the priestess of this temple will respond in the way she has before, with a strong and hopefully unmistakable no." She fought the frown that struggled to come to her face at the reference to her father as "addled".
For the first time, Rachet started to look serious, and his handsome face clouded with impatience.
"Come now, Moreau." he said, calling her by her last name.
"You insult me further."
"You will be mine, no matter what you say."
Colette fled quickly until she was well away from Rachet and within view of her own house. She took a few calming breaths. She wished she could kill Rachet, because it was the only way she could think of to wipe the superior smirk off his face.
"Unless of course," she said under her breath, "it is stuck that way, and I would not be at all surprised if it were true."
When she reached the house, she heard a whining at the door. Opening it, Maurice bounded out. He jumped on his hind legs, pressing his forepaws to her dress and staring up at her expectantly. She gave him a quick scratch between the ears and then continued in, knowing he wouldn't stray far from the house.
Stepping in, she knew at once something was wrong. The house was quiet, with an occasional dull thumping sound coming from her father's room. She put down the groceries and went to see what had happened. When she opened the door to his room, she found Jean halfway propped up on his bed, slowly banging his head against the wall. He looked up as Colette came in, and smiled. His eyes were bloodshot, and he had a large flagon in his hand.
"Oh no, Papa." she sighed, "What have you done?"
"I'm- I'm sorry, Belle." he slurred, "I- I couldn't find-find-"
"I'm not Belle." said Colette, feeling a little upset, "It's me, Colette."
Jean squinted up at her.
"Oh." said Jean disappointedly, "Why are you here? Where's Belle?"
"Belle's gone, Papa."
"Ah." said Jean, nodding clumsily, "tell her to stop reading and come here. I need to tell her something."
Colette went to him and gently removed the flagon from his hand.
"You can tell me, Papa." she said, playing along with his drunkenness, "I shall tell her for you."
"Tell her- Tell her-" at his abrupt silence, Colette looked up from where she was taking off his shoes. He had begun to sob quietly into his hands.
"Yes, Papa?" She urged,
"She was most like my Letty." he said, "Now I've lost them both, Belle and Violette, and I'm alone, alone…"
"It is alright Papa," Colette said, putting a blanket on him, "you still have Sophie and me."
Jean shook his head violently.
"Why don't you go?" he asked, "Go marry that Rachet fellow, he has money and seems very nice, very nice. Nice fellow, that Rachet."
"What about you and Sophie, Papa?"
"I shan't do it again, Colette. " he said loudly, "Shan't go on these trips any more to buy you things. Marry Rachet. He can buy you pretty things, pretty like….pretty…..Yes, that's what you like isn't it? Go marry…marry….what is his name? Marry him…"
Jean fell to the bed and was instantly in a deep sleep. Colette looked at him, and tears welled up in her eyes.
"Damn you, Belle." she whispered, "Damn you for leaving us."
She wiped the unwilling tears from her eyes. Flagon still in hand, she went to her own bedroom, where Sophie was whispering over prayer beads.
"What happened to Papa? Why didn't you do anything?" Colette thundered. Sophie looked up at her meekly.
"He went to the pub, and I tried to stop him, but he's… you know, he's been so…I think he was drinking with someone named Rachet."
"Rachet, Rachet, damn him too!" Colette yelled angrily. "No wonder he called Papa addled- why would Papa go within ten feet of that horrid rat?"
"Please, Colette." Sophie whispered, "I'm frightened. Papa is frightening me. And I miss Belle."
"Saint Belle, Papa's favorite." Colette jeered acidly, "If she is so wonderful, where is she? Where is she now, as we suffer through this?"
"Most likely dead." Sophie barely whispered.
Colette sighed.
"I do not want to marry Rachet, Sophie, no matter what our father says in his bouts of drunkenness."
"We need a man, Colette. Somebody to take care of us. Papa cannot do it anymore."
Colette was surprised by the resolve and calm in her sister's voice. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that she was right.
"You really think it necessary?" she asked weakly, knowing already what her answer would be.
"Yes." Sophie replied firmly.
"But-" Colette grasped for any reason she could think of not to do it. Finally she said,
"But I hate him! I shall never love him."
"I am sure that Belle did not want to go alone to live with lions."
"Belle, Belle, always Belle."
"You would not have gone."
Colette let out the breath she had unconsciously held in. She glanced at the flagon she held.
"I might as well have some help." she said. She downed whatever was left in it, and blinked at the bitter taste. It scalded her insides as it ran down. Ignoring how Sophie gaped, she strode out of the room, slammed the flagon down on the table beside the groceries, and went out to seek Rachet.
"Pierre." she said quietly, "His name is Pierre."
She knew already that this was a marriage made in hell.
"Alitash," Misrak said finally, "What are you doing here?"
Barely moving, she asked through her teeth,
"What has happened here, Brother?"
Misrak looked down at the nightgown tied around his waist and laughed nervously.
"It- it is not what it-"
"looks like?" Alitash finished in a dangerously quiet voice, "I am sure. Indeed, I am sure it was very innocent. I dare say that you were probably just caught at the wrong moment."
"You are correct."
Belle looked between the two and was surprised to find Misrak looking quite nervous. She had always thought that he was the more authoritive of the two siblings. Now, however, she doubted her own judgment. Misrak's and Alitash's gazes were locked, and from Misrak's nervous and rigid position, she guessed that Alitash was winning whatever silent battle they were having.
Belle shifted slightly, and at once Alitash's stare was focused on her. In the same instant, Misrak's hand was on her shoulder. She looked up at him and could see that he had been nervous not for himself, but for her.
"Do not say a word." he whispered to her under her breath. Alitash saw this, and a smile formed on her lips.
"Shush, dear brother." she cooed, "No such warnings are needed between the girl and myself."
In one fluid motion, Alitash moved from the door to the bed. Standing over Belle, she calmly brushed a strand of hair from the younger girl's face. Belle shivered as a tingling sensation went through her. Her heart beat wildly in fear as Alitash bent down to put her face on level with hers.
"Belle knows how I feel about her, and I can see in her eyes how she feels about me." Belle knew that her eyes were filled with fear. Alitash smiled coldly at her.
"Come now, girl," she coaxed, "tell my brother how I have told you what I think of you."
"A-Alitash, I-"
Alitash brought her thin fingers to either side of Belle's face and grabbed her, effectively shushing her.
"I did not tell you to address me." Alitash hissed venomously, "How dare you take such liberties? And I never want my name to pass those insolent lips again. I am always to be addressed as 'your highness'. Now, tell my brother." She jerked her hand, forcing Belle to face Misrak.
Belle felt a surge of hopelessness as she looked at him, and any expectation she had of him saving her went out of her body. He seemed paralyzed, and his makeshift garb made him look ridiculous, especially compared to Alitash. Her vibrant clothes made her look menacing and even more in control.
"I-I know how she feels."
Alitash snapped Belle's face back to look at her, and she got the vague impression that she was trying to break her neck.
"Then why did you not do as I said?"
Belle did not reply.
"Alitash, please-"
"Quiet, Misrak." Alitash growled. She shoved his hand from Belle's shoulder.
Alitash then grasped Belle's shoulders, her hands cold and steely in comparison with Misrak's warm hand, and shook her. Closing her eyes against the pain, Belle opened her mouth.
"Because-"
"No, stop." Alitash said, her voice going from mockingly playful to serious. "I am tired of having to look at you. I have had enough."
The next moment, Belle found herself on the floor, Alitash's steely hands clasped around her neck.
Gasping for air in vain, she could vaguely heard Misrak shouting. She kicked and beat her arms wildly, exerting the force of one who knows they are in a life or death struggle, but Alitash's hands were unwavering and their intention obvious.
She soon lacked the energy to move, and as the oxygen stopped going to her brain and spots formed before her eyes, she could tell that death stood over as a spectator. It was then that the inky darkness swallowed her whole.
As always, thank you! Thank you for reading, thank you so much all of you who have reviewed (and those of you who plan on doing so, lol!). Just like last chapter, I'd like to hear any questions or constructive criticism. I really want this story to improve! And in response to questions and such-
Sheyana: Haha, the next chapter is up, so I'm expecting your constructive criticism!
MoonPixie86: The only way I can think to explain it is that 1. The closer it is until they transform back into human form, the more human they are, and 2. Different personalities handle it differently. As you can probably see, because of Alitash's personality, she is very savage when she's a lionwhereas Misrak is pretty much the same. Does that make any sense? If you see some inconsistencies, or think that it doesn't quite make sense (I'm hoping it does, as I only noticed when you pointed it out) just let me know!
Phillippa of the Phoenix: What's wierd is that I had always pictured Samson as the evil one, but now that you mention it, Alitash does seem pretty evil, huh? Hm. Just goes to show sometimes characters have a mind of their own...But I won't say that she's purely evil!