Damn...at the rate I'm going, this thing will be done in no time at all...Anywho, Hell unleashed on Earth Part 1. Enjoy. Oh, and I expect a reaction from people on this one...review...hint hint...

Disclaimer: You know the drill. Pimpernel's not mine, Luc is.

Soon the Moon Will Smoulder

Chapter 13: No One Moves My Heart, But You Come Close

He didn't know how long he was unconscious, but when he woke up, the fire had died down and his entire body throbbed, more with shock than with pain. Considering what he had done to himself, the wound across his chest hurt surprisingly little; it was more of a dull ache than anything else. He carefully picked himself up, holding his head as to ensure that his previous dizziness did not return, and ever so gently ran his fingers over the letters that were burned in his chest. The injury looked healthy enough; there was no blood, just the charred skin and the clear signs of healing around the edges. Still, grimacing and shivering at the very look of it, he carefully draped his shirt over his shoulders, went to the hallway, locked the door and retired to his room to bathe; surely the sight of it would look better after it had been cleaned.

It took a good two weeks for the burn to even resemble skin again. The slogan of the revolution now stood out clearly on his chest, a stark contrast between the dark lettering and the pale skin of the rest of his body. And during those weeks, he had taken the time to convince Percy to let him go into London on his own to visit the tailor. Being the calibre of man that the baronet was, it was a rather easy task, as the man had jumped at his eldest son's sudden interest in fashion and sent him off with a pat on the head and a heavy pocketbook.

Of course, Lucian had no interest in the latest of high fashion as his surrogate father was so intended to believe. Rather the opposite, as Lucian had grown very quickly tired of the inefficiency of the ornate clothing that was typical of his class; he really had no interest in such things and tended to favour a more simple design. That, and he had discovered that he had a penchant for black fabric. Couldn't say why, of course, but that happened to be the fact of the matter, and the baronet, ever favoring the typical elaboration of clothing that "shimmers", would have nothing to do with such drab colors, preferring reds to the blacks that Lucian wanted. No more of that.

And so, with a sigh of irritation at this menial task and a pocket full of money, the young Chauvelin set off for London to visit the tailor, God forbid. He had to argue with the stupid man for what seemed to be hours to get the man to understand what he wanted; the little man did not seem to understand that the son of Sir Percy Blakeney, baronet, had no interest in his new supply of shimmery reds and yellows. Oh no, the boy wanted black. Monstrous intolerable, that. But, after dictating very slowly exactly what he desired, drawing up a few diagrams as well to aid in his explanation, Lucian had finally succeeded in making the tailor understand the nature of the dress he required. Sighing in disappointment at the simplicity of the task, the tailor set to work, and Lucian went home happy with the promise that his wardrobe would be delivered to the manor by next Thursday.

He had been fortunate enough that when the packages arrived, his family had been frequenting one of the other noble families or another, and as was so typical of him, he managed to be nowhere to be found when they were to leave. And so, nearly skipping up the stairs with his packages, he went into his room and began to pack for his fast approaching engagement in France.

"La, but it was a shame you did not come, Lucian! The Prince's daughter was asking for you!" Blake cried happily as he followed his brother about the house. "Really, it is a damned shame to upset the pretty girl. You should be a bit kinder to her, brother. Me thinks she has a liking for you!"

"As does half of England, Blake, and that has yet to effect the way I treat people." Lord, how he hated this incessant prattling. The boy just never stopped. "It is late, Blake. Should you not be in bed?"

"Think about it, Luc!" he cried, clearly ignoring the man. "You could be the next King of England! All you need do is marry the pretty thing!"

Groaning slightly at the boy's idiocies, Lucian quietly growled, "Blake, Charlotte is but thirteen, and I am quite sure she still believes I suffer from some strange male disease that she invented for me when we were young. And who says she is to be Queen? He grandfather is still on the throne. At the rate that family is going, anything can happen."

Blake stopped, looked blankly into his brother's eyes. "But you could be King of England!"

"Heavens, Blake! Are you daft? She is probably already arranged! And as you say, she could well be Queen of England. They are not going to waste their time marrying her off to nobility such as us. Her marriage will probably be to help relations in some foreign country." Pausing for a moment, he added, "What about you? Why not marry her?"

"Sink me, Luc, but my heart belongs to another!" he said quickly, waiving his hand about.

"And who is to say mine does not?"

He stared at the stoic man in absolute shock. His brother? His cold, stoic, unfeeling brother? Grinning and clasping his hands together, he quickly asked, "Oh, Luc, who?"

"I will not say. Not to you, not to anyone."

"Oh please? I do so love gossip!"

"Which is precisely why you shall hear none of it. Let me be, Blake." But the boy continued to follow him, laughing, shouting, questioning, and carrying on like the idiot he was. There must be a way to be rid of him… Stopping suddenly, he turned to his brother, a wicked idea running through his mind. Just how much could he control this boy? Grinning maliciously, he quietly asked, "What of you and Alison?"

Blake stopped, his foppish manner dropping away instantly. "What of it, Lucian?"

"You love her, yes?" he asked smoothly, slowly moving closer to the young man.

"I…I do. But…but she doesn't love me. Not at all. She loves you, Lucian," he said quietly, staring at the ground in hopeless sorrow.

"Ah, but Blake," he said quietly, lifting the boy's head so their eyes met, "she has told me otherwise."

A spark of hope shone in those deep blue eyes, and with an almost pitiful amount of trust in his voice, quietly asked, "Really?"

He smiled, slightly nodded. "Of course. She told me herself that she was quite fond of you. Would you doubt her word, Blake?"

"No, never!" His soul had taken flight. She loved him. She really did! His face fell as he quickly remembered what he had seen pass between her and his brother and couldn't help but think that this was some cruel joke the man was playing on him. "That cannot be right, Lucian. I saw you and her, and you were…I mean, she…and…"

Shrugging slightly at this, he smiled slyly at the boy, gently laid his hand on his shoulder. "That was merely a mistake. A minor moment of passion, I for another woman, and she for you."

"She…she was thinking of me?"

"Indeed she was."

"But before! I told her I loved her, and she did not seem to care!"

"She is a shy thing, Blake. Give her time, and get her alone. Might I remind you that I was in the room with you?"

The man was right, Blake had no doubt. What had he not seen this before? Gasping softly, almost swooning in his love for the woman, he quietly asked, "What do I do, Lucian?"

A sinister smile playing across his face, he leaned in close and whispered in his ear, "Go to her, Blake. Now. Waste not another moment."

"Now?"

"Yes, go. There is no time to lose, Blake, lest you risk her turning her attentions elsewhere."

"Very well. I shall tell father and-"

"No!" he shouted, causing the young man to jump back, startled. Quickly catching himself, he laid his hand upon his shoulder again, and said much softer, "No. Go now, without his knowing. Father would likely deny you permission to go out on your own."

"But, Luc. That doesn't seem right…not tell father? I may as well be defying his orders. No doubt this is against the rules…"

"Well, is that not the risk one takes when in love? There are no rules in this game, Blake. Go, lest you lose her."

Nodding vigorously and practically beaming, he quickly turned away from the man. "Thank you, Luc. You're right. I'll go."

"Good man." The pale yellow eyes watched the boy run down the stairs and out the door, and, sighing happily, Lucian returned to his room. The boy was so easy to manipulate. He might be able to disappear for hours on end without evoking the concern of the family, but should Blake disappear, that precious, best loved son of Percy, there would be chaos within Blakeney Manor. He gave it an hour or so before the entire family was rushing about in search of the boy. May as well deal with Percy before then. Quickly making sure that all his belongings and information were packed for his departure, he left the room to search for the baronet.

"Lucian! Come in, boy. Sit." Percy quickly put his book down, motioned to the chair opposite him for the man to place himself. "What can I do for you?"

Lucian sat, crossed one leg over the other, and leaned forward. "Nothing much, father, I just wanted to talk. It had been so long since you and I have had a serious conversation."

"That it has been," Percy said quietly, nodding in agreement. "Very well, boy, what is it you would like to discuss?"

Without a beat, Lucian responded, "Armand Chauvelin."

The entire room grew tense as the clear blue eyes pierced into the pale yellow ones, both men unmoving, and both deadly serious. All pretensions of anything good natured between the two were gone, replaced instead by a vicious conflict spurned by a somehow mutual hatred of each other. "I know nothing."

"You lie, Blakeney. Tell me what you do know of him."

"I have a better idea, Lucian," Percy said softly, almost dangerously, as he leaned forward, "you let the matter drop right now, and I shall forget you said anything at all."

Grinning maliciously and suddenly looking very much like the deceased agent, he smoothly asked, "Why is that, Blakeney? Afraid I will discover something that you want kept quiet?"

Eyes narrowing viciously, Percy growled, "Stop talking…"

"What are you trying to hide, Percy?" Lucian growled back, his eyes narrowing in a similar manner.

"Enough!" Percy stood up, quickly went to leave the room. Damn that illegitimate! How did he even come to know the man's first name? Surely, it was not from him.

"What is it, Blakeney? Did you hate the man so much you refuse to even speak of him?"

Percy quickly spun around, the tension in the room suddenly erupting as his temper got the best of him. "You damn well better believe that is the case!" Pausing to breathe, he quickly snapped, "Where did you learn his name from?"

"That is my business, Blakeney, as are the reasons you hated that man."

"Hated?" Percy said in disbelief before laughing harshly. "No, Lucian, I hated him then, I hate him still, and everyday I hate him more!"

"And why is that, Percy?" Lucian shouted, finally losing his cool and rising from the chair.

"That is my business, Lucian!"

"Is it because mother loved him?"

"It's because your mother had you!" It wasn't what he said that turned the rage on Percy's face to shock, it was the expression on the other's face; the sudden surprise and then that victorious, prideful smirk on his face was what forced Percy's temper to subside into a sudden fear. Something in him, deep in the bottom of his soul, recognized that it was just that phrase the young man was waiting for to confirm any shadow of doubt that he was fathered by the agent, not the baronet. And Percy hated him for it.

He had never hated the boy before, rather pitied him, for his lineage was not his choice, but at that moment, Blakeney hated him; hated him for being Chauvelin's son, for being Marguerite's first child, for leading him on with the firm belief that somehow, he could make the illegitimate his own, that he could erase any trace the agent left within the boy. He really believed that he could succeed, fool that he was. But right there, right in front of his eyes, the man suddenly transformed and became the very likeness of his father, the traits he adopted from Marguerite becoming hardly noticeable as the cold, bitter viciousness of Chauvelin overtook the boy. Slowly backing away, Percy turned and left the room to find his wife.

Grinning in triumph, Lucian stood alone in the room for but a moment, waiting for the baronet's footsteps to die down. Percy may well not have taken his mother from the agent, but heaven help him, he would have revenge on the man, if for nothing more, than for hating him like he hated his father. He would have his revenge; on Percy, on Blake, on Napoleon, on the Pimpernel, it would be done. With a sinister smile on his face, Lucian went upstairs to retrieve the sash and sword from the cabinet; he needed them for when he would leave within the week, and while Percy now knew about Lucian's discovery, the man may as well become Chauvelin's son here. Nothing like a head start.

Percy dashed about the manor in a desperate search for his wife; that son of hers was bad news, and while he had no handle on the man, Marguerite seemed to still possess some sway over the man, and if anyone could bring the bastard to his senses, it was her. Turning a corner, he practically collided with the woman, and just as he was about to speak, she gasped, "Percy, Blake is gone!"

The baronet blinked, forgot his sudden panic and rage; this was by far worse news. Panting for breath, he weakly asked, "What?"

"Blake is gone, Percy! I cannot find him anywhere, and Helouise has not seen or heard from him for well over three hours!"

That was certainly not a good sign; of all the people in the family, Blake make the most ruckus out of all of them, and one could scarcely go ten minutes without at least hearing the boy. Instantly forgetting about the sudden issue with Lucian, Percy went off in search of Blake. This was his son, his first child, and he would be devastated if anything were to happen to him.

Throwing open the doors of the servant's quarters, he dashed in, found Jessup and frantically asked, "Have you seen Blake?"

"Not for the upper part of three hours, Master Percy."

"Damn it! Will you keep an eye out for him?"

"Of course, sir."

"There's a good man," the baronet said quickly as he ran out of the room and went in search for his missing son. But the boy was nowhere to be found. Finally meeting up with Marguerite, tears hanging in his eyes, he quietly said, "Get the stable hands to get the coach ready. We are going to go look for Blake."

"You haven't found him yet?" the woman gasped, choking back a sob.

He shook his head, trying to regain composure. "No. Come now. Hurry." With that, Marguerite ran off to do her husband's bidding, and Percy ran upstairs very quickly and stormed into Helouise's room.

The pretty girl was sitting upon the windowsill, softly humming to herself when her father walked in, trembling and nearly crying, his entire being in disarray. Quickly sliding down from where she sat, she ran to her father's side, quietly asked, "What's wrong?"

"Blake is missing, and your mother and I are going to go look for him. I need you to stay here in case he shows up. If you find him, send word to Andrew. Do you understand?"

Nodding vigorously the woman quickly responded, "Of course, father." Gently taking his hand and wrapping her arm about him, she soothingly said, "Don't worry. I am sure he is fine."

"I honestly hope you are right." Starting to walk out of the room, he froze and turned back to the girl, suddenly remembering his minor issue from before. "Helouise, do take care to avoid Lucian. He has gone completely off his rocker."

"What? Father, what do you mean?"

"He's…" Swallowing slightly, not wanting to say anymore that he was willing to admit to himself, he quietly whispered, "He's changed, Helouise, and he is not at all the same man you saw this morning." With that, Percy left, and within moments, he and Marguerite had left the grounds of the estate.

Standing in mild shock, Helouise went in search of Blake. Running down the stairs and looking about the ground floor, she suddenly stopped and realized that it was more than likely that her eldest brother knew the exact whereabouts of the younger. Without further delay, she went looking for the man.

"Lucian!" Helouise dashed up the stairs to her eldest brother's room and threw open the doors and found the man standing at the window, his back turned toward her and his hands clasped neatly behind him. The clear-eyed girl froze; he really had changed. Why had she not seen it before? The boy she had grown up with had suddenly transformed; dressed in black from head to foot, save for the blue, white and red sash he sported around his waist, her once amiable brother had become, imposing, intimidating.

"Lucian." The girl tread softly into the room, and those pale yellow eyes met hers, filled with a cruelty that was not there before, but that did not stop the girl in her recourse; Lucian did not frighten her. "Lucian, where is Blake?" she asked softly, carefully approaching her brother.

Lucian smirked maliciously, chuckling softly to himself. "Helouise, why does it matter?" he asked in his smooth voice as he took a few steps toward the lovely girl. So quickly had his beloved sister become a woman…

"Lucian, this is your own brother you are talking about!" Helouise shouted. Oh, he was asking for it, damn him! "What's wrong with you? Mom and Dad are worried sick. What have you done with him?"

Softening slightly, Lucian pulled the girl into his embrace and gently stroked her beautiful strawberry blonde hair. "I have done nothing with him, love."

"Lucian, you must have done something!" Helouise cried, pulling away form her brother. "Blake is gone, and you are the only one who does not care one way or another!" Smiling softly and placing her hand on his cheek, she gently said, "I know you, Luc. You know something. Please, tell me."

Lucian put his hand over hers and quietly asked, "Whereare mother and father?"

"Looking for Blake!" the flustered girl shouted as she pulled her hand away from her brother. "Lucian, what are you doing?"

"Where are they, Helouise?"

"On their way to Andrew's estate."

Sighing in minor agitation, the man sat upon the windowsill. "Blake is at the Ffoulkes estate."

"Christ, Luc, what is he doing there?" Helouise asked as she joined the now stoic man at the window.

"I merely wanted to see what I could get him to do. You are aware that he is quite fond of Allison? He has become very easy to manipulate."

"Is this what this is about, Luc?" Helouise asked softly, taking her brother's hands into her own. "You would throw our entire family into insanity for your manipulation games?"

Lucian shivered as Helouise touched him; he never felt this way with the Dewhurst twins, but then, he did not love them as he loved Helouise. "What do you think of Ellison?" he asked mindlessly as he kissed the girl's delicate hands. The young lord, last time he had seen him, was getting extremely close to his beloved sister, and there was the feeling he could not shake that told him Helouise enjoyed his attentions. What those attentions were, he did not know, but the mere idea of her becoming close to another man, especially that one, made him violently angry.

"Answer my question, Lucian," Helouise firmly stated. "You may be able to play most of England, but you cannot do such with me."

"I do it to spite Percy, darling. I do not mean to hurt you."

"You do, Luc."

"Forgive me. It will not happen again." He slid off the windowsill and slowly walked to the door. "Now you answer my question."

"Ellison?" Helouise leaned against the window and thought for a moment before saying, "He is a good man, but there is too little mercy in his heart."

"Do you love him?"

"What?"

Lucian quickly slammed the door and glared viciously at the girl and she paled; what was wrong with him? "You heard me, Helouise," he growled as his pale eyes narrowed dangerously. "And don't you dare lie to me! I know you, you cannot hide from me!"

"No, Lucian. I don't love Ellison. I never could." She was shaking. How quickly her adored brother had changed! "What has happened to you, Lucian?"

"Helouise, I want to show you something," Lucian said quietly as his long fingers swiftly undid the buttons of his coat, his falcon-like eyes never leaving his sister's clear blue ones.

Helouise shivered; the way he was looking at her was new, different, and she had never seen anything like it before, but it sent a rush of heat through her body and she began to tremble. What was happening to her?

Lucian's coat dropped to the floor and he quickly unbuttoned his shirt as he rejoined his sister at the window. "Look." Lucian removed his shirt and Helouise's eyes widened in fear and concern for her brother as the moonlight shone off his alabaster skin and the starkly contrasting dark letters that ran across his chest. She carefully ran her fingers over the letters that had clearly been burned into his skin: Liberte. Egalite. Fraternite… "Lucian, what happened?"

The man shuddered, moaned, pulled the woman against him; how unfair that his beloved sister could not fight by his side for what he believed in. Moaning softly and nuzzling her neck, he quietly asked, "Helouise, do you love me?"

She pulled back slightly, not much, and looked back at her brother's chest. "Lucian, what happened to you?"

"Not now, love…"

"When?"

"Soon," he said softly as he lifted her chin, forcing her to look in to his eyes, "very soon." Looking longingly at the lovely girl, he softly repeated, "Do you love me?"

"Yes, you know I do."

"Ah, but dear girl, do you love me like I love you?"

Helouise was losing herself very quickly in those golden eyes. There was something there, something alluring, enticing, that frightened her, that excited her. She had no idea what was happening, but she was shivering, breathing quickly, felt her entire body grow hotter, and she liked it, wanted the feeling to stay forever, but begged it to go away. Swallowing hard, she managed to gasp, "How do you love me, brother?"

Softly moaning in response, Lucian tenderly pressed his lips against his sister's and nothing else mattered; he loved her, could only love her, and heaven help him, he needed her now. He felt the girl stiffen, try to pull away, but he would not let her go, not now; if she did not want him, he would make her want him. Pulling her closer, he kissed her all the more passionately.

As he felt the girl move closer to him, as she relaxed and wrapped her arm around his neck, he lost all control and let his passions loose, and with new fervor, deepened the kiss. Had this not been what La Cabarrus warned him about? Latching his hands to her waist and pulling her closer, he pushed all inhibitions from his mind; damn the plan, this is what he wanted. But she, she had no idea what was happening, and Lucian had every intention of correcting that. Reluctantly pulling away from the panting girl, he moved behind her and took her into his arms again.

"Lucian, what…"

"Hush. Helouise, I love you, only you, always you, do you understand?"

Helouise could only moan in response. God, what he was doing was torture; so sweet, and oh, how she wanted more, but her yearning for it – for him – only grew as he continued. But this could not be right…this was her brother. And though she had no idea what was happening, she had the feeling that they had somewhere passed the boundary of normal bahavior and crossed into something that never should have happened…but still, she liked how it felt, and she did like Lucian…

"I want you to feel something, Helouise. I need to know this is right. You are not like the others and I refuse to treat you like them," the man gasped as he kissed her neck and slid her dress off her shoulders. His hands slowly slid down her body and rested on her leg, and she fell back against him; her entire body had ceased to work and she needed his support to even stand.

"How does that feel, my love?" Lucian asked softly as he ran his long fingers up and down the length of her leg.

"Oh God…" Helouise could not take it anymore. She wanted, nay, needed him to continue or she would surly die. Gasping softly, she quietly whispered, "I love you, Lucian." Sensing her consent, Lucian carefully picked her up and lay her on his bed, and gently lay on top of her. She loved him, and that was all he needed. He kissed her once again, and it was all over between the two of them.