Hey hey! So, here we are with another chapter of this misery. Sorry it's so short, but they have been nailing me in school as of late. This is my League chapter. Rejoice! It's another slow one, but I promise that things will pick up in the next chapter. And please keep reviewing! I love you guys for it, and it really helps me get these things out quickly. And as they stand now, things still aren't set in stone. If you want something to happen, let me know about it. That's all. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: There's a lot of stuff that I don't own. The Scarlet Pimpernel is one of them.
Falcon in the Dive
Chapter 7: Not Now When Life Has Just Begun
It was early in the morning when Tony and Andrew approached the prison in which Armand was being held. The two men had been slightly worried earlier about the quality of their rescue plans, but their fears were quickly diminished as they observed the nearly pitiful level of security.
"It's a good thing Percy didn't come with us." Andrew whispered to Tony. "He would have taken one look at the number of guards and decide that any form of plan is an insult to his genius. Then he'd start screwing with everyone and it would be a huge mess."
"Well, since Percy isn't here, we're just going to have to stick with the plan, if not for the need of it, for the fact that we're going to humiliate one of these poor sods."
"Ah yes. Very well." Andrew pulled on a tri-corner hat that completed his disguise. "Ready?"
"As always." Tony responded as he picked up a bayonet and the two men marched to the front gate to meet the sentinel.
As Tony and Andrew approached the gate, the guard sternly ordered, "State your business."
"Citizen," Tony said as he and Andrew saluted the soldier, "we have been sent ahead of our division to inform you that reinforcements for the sentinel will arrive within the hour."
The guard's eyes narrowed in minor anger and irritation. "We have enough soldiers, Citizen. We don't need your reinforcements."
"That may be so," Andrew said with disdain for the arrogant man before him, "but Citizen Danton, Citizen Robespierre, and Citizen Chauvelin do not share your opinion."
The young soldier's jaw dropped and he became incredibly pale as he realized that he had just unintentionally defied the most powerful men in France. "The committee sent you?" the guard quietly asked in a voice that shook with fear.
Tony and Andrew curtly nodded with cold, hard expressions on their faces. The soldier managed to swallow back some of his fear and stuttered, "Forgive me, Citizens. I did not mean to deny you access."
"Then you wouldn't mind to render us another service." Tony said harshly.
"Anything, Citizen."
"We need you to take us to the prisoner Armand St. Just."
The guard looked quizzically at Tony. "What for?"
Andrew glared harshly at the soldier. "You have already defied the committee once. I advise against denying us a second time."
"Unless, of course," Tony continued, "you wish to know Madame Guillotine personally."
"No, no! I…" the soldier tried to articulate as an intense panic gripped him. "Forgive me! I'll take you to him immediately."
Andrew and Tony looked at the young soldier in pity when he turned his back to them. The poor man was shaking so badly he continuously fumbled the keys and had a hell of a tine getting the lock open.
After about two minutes of an absolutely pitiful display on the part of the soldier, he finally managed to open the gate and quickly led Tony and Andrew into the depths of the prison. The young guide quickly opened the door to the room that housed Armand's cell, and ushered the men inside.
Armand on that particular morning was in significantly better spirits then Tony had seen him in the day before. On seeing Tony and Andrew, Armand's face lit up like the sun and he rushed to the bars. "Have you finally come to end my misery, pigs?" Armand said snidely, though his face was a perfect picture of absolute joy.
Andrew nodded and indifferently responded, "If that's what you wish."
The soldier closed the door behind him as he walked in and stood half a step behind Tony and Andrew. Armand saw this third soldier and quickly said in English "Hey you! Speak English!"
The young soldier looked around; he had no idea what the prisoner just said and tried in desperation to find the man that Citizen St. Just was speaking to.
"He doesn't understand, does he?" Armand asked brightly.
"No, I don't think so." Tony replied.
"So, what's the plan? You're here to get me out, right?"
Andrew waved his hand in the air. "Yes yes. Fear not. Just going to switch this poor sod for you and steal his clothing. Nothing unusual."
"Ah. So, how are you going to pull that off?"
The soldier looked back and forth between the prisoner and the two men. He didn't understand a word that was exchanged, which made him very uneasy. Something was going on that seemed terribly wrong.
"Watch this." Tony said slyly to Armand. "You, boy!" he barked in French. "Open his cell."
"What?" the soldier asked in terrible confusion.
"Do you not understand French, infidel?"
"The prisoner has been tried by the Revolutionary Tribunal and was found to be guilty. We take him to meet Madame Guillotine." Andrew said without emotion.
"Oh." The soldier walked to the door of Armand's cell and searched for the proper key. "What was he saying a moment ago?"
Tony smiled slyly and shot Andrew a quick glance before responding "He was a soldier of the Revolution in the early years of the Republic. He wishes to go to his death as a soldier rather then a prisoner."
"So, if you wouldn't mind too terribly," Andrew cut in, "to remove your uniform and hand it to the man, we will be on our way to lead this man to his execution."
By this time, the soldier had already opened Armand's cell and he stood gaping at the absurdity of the men's request. "Citizens, I can't just-"
"It's the man's final request." Tony interrupted. "We cannot deny a reasonable last request. Of course, if you wish to join him on the scaffold…"
"No, no! Not at all!" the young soldier replied as he began to remove his jacket.
Armand stood solemnly between Tony and Andrew at the soldier removed his uniform and he too began to shrug off his own clothing. "Merci, monsieur." Armand sadly said as the guard handed him the uniform. The young St. Just began to dress himself in the soldier's clothing and Andrew went and stood by the guard at the door of Armand's previous prison.
"Citizen?" the soldier asked Andrew as he looked up at the man with a pitiful look on his face. "Is this really necessary?"
"Absolutely." Andrew responded devoid of all emotion.
Armand finished dressing and stood up straight and tall. "I am ready, monsieur." He said solemnly.
"Very well. Let's go, men." Tony said and walked out of the room, followed closely by Armand. The guard started to follow, but the moment he moved, Andrew pushed him into the cell and locked the door. The soldier was too stunned to do anything but came to his senses very quickly as he saw Andrew start to walk out of the room with the keys. "Wait! Stop!"
"Hmm? How can I help you?" Andrew inquired as he turned slightly so he could look at the boy.
"You can't just leave me here!"
"Ah. My humblest apologies." Andrew quietly said as he tossed the keys in the furthermost corner of the room from the imprisoned soldier. Following the other League members, Andrew slammed the door behind him.
Not five minutes later, the three men had left the prison and were on their way to rejoin Percy at the inn. A long silence held between the friends until Armand sighed heavily and wistfully stated "Wow. What an incredibly stupid man."
Marguerite woke up that morning comfortably draped over her still sleeping lover incredibly relaxed and well rested, despite the fact she got very little sleep that night. A lazy smile slid across her face as an overwhelming feeling of euphoria filled her. With the aftereffects of their lovemaking still heavy upon her, she cuddled up against Chauvelin and let her heavy eyelids close as she attempted to fall asleep once again.
However, she was deprived of further rest as the sun shone through the window and dispelled the darkness she needed to fall asleep. She stirred slightly and opened her eyes once again as she realized that she wasn't going to get anymore sleep.
Resolving to get up, she ran her hand across her lover's cheek and jaw and softly kissed him before sliding out of bed. Pulling on one of Chauvelin's shirts, she headed out of the bedroom and into the kitchen to prepare something for breakfast.
Marguerite stifled a yawn and ran a hand through her disheveled hair as she sat down at the table. She rested her head on her arm and didn't move for a while as she thought of what had compelled her to get out of bed and away from her lover's side. It was a terrible idea, for the mere thought of doing anything was suddenly very unappealing.
Finally deciding that she was not tired enough to return to bed and hungry enough to eat something, she pushed herself out of the chair and searched through the cabinets for something with which she could prepare a meal. After glancing at the contents of the cupboards, she felt her previous ecstacy give way to slight irritation, as she found nothing even remotely edible.
She would have given up her search had she not heard soft chuckling followed by a deep voice that informed her "There's food in the drawers to your right, Cherie."
Marguerite turned to face the man that stood in the doorway and flushed slightly; the agent was only half dressed, very disheveled, and, in his current state, terribly alluring. She managed to tare her eyes away from him and mumbled a barely audible thank you as she opened the drawer and pulled out a loaf of bread.
Marguerite was gently pulled against Chauvelin and she could keenly feel the strong, sculpted muscles of his abdomen through the thin shirt she wore. He ran his hand down the low neckline of the shirt she wore and nuzzled her neck as he softly whispered, "Did you sleep well, my love?"
Marguerite sighed in content and leaned against her lover. "Mmm…very well. And you, darling?"
"Never better." He gently kissed her neck and shoulder before purring, "You are heaven, Marguerite."
"As are you, my Chauvelin." She gently said as she ran her hand through his hair and guided his head lower.
"What do you need to do today, love?" he softly asked as he gently nipped her shoulder and collarbone as Marguerite guided him to the pit of her neck.
Marguerite moaned quietly before breathlessly saying "Nothing at all. What about you?"
"Just the normal. Meetings, paperwork, arrests, executions. Nothing out of the ordinary." He pulled her closer against him and turned her head to the side so he could look into her eyes. "Margot, I want you to speak to your brother again."
Marguerite stiffened at the mention of Armand and suddenly felt horribly guilty. "Armand is very angry with me, Chauvelin. He won't even speak to me."
Chauvelin listened to her protests and wouldn't have any of it. Pulling her even closer, he pressed his lips against hers and she was silenced without protest.
Though all her protests ceased as her lover kissed her, she couldn't help feeling absolutely miserable as the full realization of her betrayal of her brother and her husband sunk in.
"Try anyway, darling." Chauvelin said as he broke away from the woman. "I need to get going. I'll see you tonight." He kissed her once again before he left the room and got ready to leave.
As Marguerite was left alone, she gripped on to the edge of the counter to steady herself and brought a hand to her forehead. She felt hot, feverish, and terribly ill. "Percy, I'm sorry." She whimpered as she slowly sank to her knees. Her breathing quickened and she became very light-headed as she thought of how terribly she had betrayed her husband, the man she loved above all others. Everything that had happened over the course of the past two days had been unreal like some sort of dream. And now she had awakened to discover that it was less like a dream and more like a nightmare.
Marguerite gasped for breath as a wave of nausea passed over her. She pulled herself up and breather deeply in an attempt to clear the sudden illness, but it only became worse. Trying to keep her composure but failing miserably, she stumbled over to a washbasin and gripped the edges. Shaking weakly, she inclined her head and vomited into the basin. Marguerite remained over the pan for a while and tried to stop shaking.
Just as quickly as I had hit her, the nausea lifted and her strength returned. Marguerite stood up straight as she softly rubbed her stomach and felt her forehead once again. Whatever she may have had of a fever was certainly gone now. She shook her head in confusion and turned to leave the room.
Picking her clothing off the living room floor, she quickly washed up and dressed and left the flat. She had to make right what she had wronged. Now that she had fully awakened to the situation, she was going to find her husband and tell him all that had happened. She only hoped that he somehow would be able to forgive her.
Percy was feeling infinitely better that morning. The sharp, searing pain that coursed through his body last night was now a dull, throbbing pain, which was much preferred and considerably less painful. As the door to the room opened and he heard the quiet, cautious voice of a certain Armand St. Just call for him, Percy sprang out of bed to meet the Frenchman.
Armand's jaw dropped as he glimpsed at his leader and saw large, bloodstained bandages around his abdomen. "Percy," he gasped in horror, "what happened to you?"
Percy patted the man good-naturedly on the back. "Oh, our little friend Chauvelin shot me a few times. Nothing too serious. How have you been?"
"Nothing too serious?" Armand asked in absolute shock. "Percy, Chauvelin shot you, and you're fine with this? This is a big deal and a really big problem! Percy, he knows you're the Pimpernel!"
"I know, and I don't believe that me getting shot had anything to do with that knowledge. It seemed like it was an impulse kill; no motive, just shooting for the sake of it." Percy suddenly became deadly serious and looked inquisitively at Armand. "Speaking of which, how did Chauvelin find out about me?"
Armand suddenly felt very close to tears. He cast his eyes to the ground and mumbled "you have almost died here once, Percy. Don't make me kill you now."
"Tell me, Armand." Percy whispered dangerously in a tone that almost made him sound like his bitter enemy.
After standing in silence for a few minutes, Armand looked up at his leader with eyes glazed over with tears. "Sit down, Percy." He whispered, his voice nearly cracking with emotion.
Percy's features softened immediately as his entire being filled with concern for his brother-in-law and worry for what he was about to hear. Nodding slightly. He sat down on the bed and looked intently at the young Frenchman.
"Percy, I want to apologize in advanced for betraying you. I was the one who spoke your name, but not to Chauvelin, and not to his men, but to my sister, I swear upon my life that not another soul heard me speak your secret, so I can only make the assumption that Marguerite told Chauvelin."
Percy listened in shock and shook his head in disbelief. "No…" he whispered, straining his voice to remain calm. "She wouldn't do that."
"Like she wouldn't denounce St. Cyr, right?" Armand countered.
Percy tensed and became defensive. "That wasn't her fault! Chauvelin forced her hand, she was blackmailed!"
"Percy, I know that! Will you let me finish?" Armand shouted at his riled up leader.
Percy calmed down and nodded his head in acknowledgement for Armand to continue.
The Frenchman stood in silence for a moment and bit his lower lip as he tried to think of how to tell the Pimpernel what he suspected of his sister. "I do believe that Chauvelin forced Marguerite into a corner again and left her no choice but to work for him." He said slowly as he carefully weighed his words. "That in itself is forgivable. Even giving up your identity to him under this pretext can be forgiven. But I don't think she betrayed you for this reason."
Armand was interrupted by Percy's nervous, disjointed laughter. "What other reason does she have?"
Armand sighed heavily. "Percy, I'm going to tell you this because I care about you too much not to. It would be a lot less painful if I said nothing, but it hurts me too much to watch you continue to be deceived and played for a fool."
"What are you getting at, Armand?"
"Percy, Marguerite…" He paused to swallow the lump in his throat and push back the threatening tears. "Marguerite is in love with Chauvelin."
All the color drained from Percy's face and his eyes narrowed in anger. "You lie…"
"Why would I say something of this severity if it were not true?" Armand shouted as his composure broke and bitter tears ran down his face. He took a few deep breaths and his anger dissipated as utter despair settled over him. "She told me herself. She acted like it was a mistake to let me know; like it slipped and no one was ever suppose to find out."
Percy's breath quickened to near hyperventilation and he was shaking terribly. "That doesn't prove anything." He said brokenly as if saying it would make it true, but it was painfully clear that the Pimpernel aversely believed Armand.
"Then perhaps her actions speak louder then her words. Chauvelin showed up and she kissed him like some whore, Percy. After being witness to that display, I have no doubt that what she said was true. I also have no question that she has spent the last two nights underneath Chauvelin."
Tears finally filled the Pimpernel's eyes and he nearly ceased breathing. The pain he felt when the bullets entered his body could have increased tenfold, and it still would not have been close to the pain that these arrows dealt him. Though Chauvelin had failed to kill him one way, he had more then succeeded in administering the hand of death to the Pimpernel in another way. "Bring her to me." He brokenly whispered.
"Percy, are you nuts?" Armand asked in disbelief. "She has betrayed you in more ways then one. What makes you think she won't lead Chauvelin right to you?"
"You dare question me?" Percy shouted, tears of betrayal and rage running down his face. "She must have a reason for what she has done, and I deserve an explanation! Now do as I say and bring Marguerite to me!"
Armand was taken by surprise at his leader's outburst, but sighed deeply and headed toward the door. "Of course, Percy." He said sadly as he walked out of the room.
Percy stared dejectedly at the floor. No sooner had his life began again, he was brutally murdered. And he was so recently led to believe that he could trust his wife, only to have his faith crushed once again. He could only wait and pray that Marguerite had an explanation for this terrible betrayal.