ONE SHOTS MARGUERITE X PERCY

One Shot #9

HEYEYEYEYEYEYE WHATS UP 

SOME QUICK NOTES- A SANS-CULOTTE IS A MEMBER OF THE RADICAL GROUP OF THE French Revolution. a Comte and comtesse are titles of French nobility

excuse any typos

thanks Jenna for inspo

enjoy

The gloomy sky above Paris was gray and foreboding as it cried down upon the city. But on the streets, the people could not have been more cheerful, for it was the anniversary of the Bastille prison. 

A certain Englishman, by the name of Sir Percy Blakeney, however was not joining in on the festivities, although he did help himself to some cheap wine. At this very moment, M. Paul Chauvelin, chief agent of the committee of national security, entered the shop, and looked about the pastry area- mostly stale and covered with flies, but food none the less. 

"Monsieur Chaubertin! How lovely it is to see you! Happy Bastille Day!" He stirred the contents of his glass, pretending to be quite interested suddenly in the color of his wine. "Have you had a chance to participate?"

"Firstly, my name is Chauvelin. Repeat after me- C-H-A-U-V-E-L-I-N. Yes that's quite right- now I'm not here to chatter with you-"

"'Tis a shame! I was most looking forward to it. Enjoy your pastry, Monsieur Chambertin- ah! French names- far too difficult." And with that, Percy Blakeney went out the door.

Having past Place de la Revolution, he quickly proceeded to the parades and fireworks and mobs that were all sharing the stage at Place de la Bastille. He arrived, searching the crowd. He smudged his hand along the ground, until dirt coated his palm, and rubbed It across his face. He then, with some hesitation and a murmur of,"'Is really a shame," he ran his dirtied hand across his jacket. 

He came up behind a man who appeared to be a sans-culottes, smiling as the people sang. He placed his mouth next to this man's ear. "Andrew!" The man jumped. "Percy! Yes- this is the Comtesse de Verignon, and her two sons, Etienne and Jacques, and her daughter, the fair young woman Sophie." 

"Enchantee, mademoiselle."  He took a small object that seemed in size and shape to be a playing card, and pinned it, to a nearby revolutionary's back. And on the card was a small red flower, with the most vivid color and intricate design. 

The Comtesse followed behind, grasping Jacques's hand and holding Etienne in her arms. Between her and Percy, who was leading the way, Andrew in the rear, walked Sophie, looking back at what had become her home. With tears in her pale blue eyes, she turned away and walked forward 

Eventually, having escaped the crowd, and taken a lengthy carriage ride, they stopped in a northern town, just outside Paris. There the most beautiful young woman anyone had ever seen in France or in England was waiting anxiously, her thin fingers tapping the wood of the table she sat at. With her were two young men, one of whom was quite obviously English, the other French. 

The carriage rasped to a stop outside the inn, Percy stepping out, holding Etienne, then helping the Comtesse, who held her other son, and finally Andrew exited, helping Sophie. 

Percy pushed open the door of the inn, his eyes searching for his beloved. "Marguerite! Tony! Et Monsieur le Comte!" 

She comte and comtesse embraced, while Percy and his wife retreated to the back of the inn for some privacy, in which Percy planted a slow, sweet kiss on Marguerite's pretty mouth. "You know I love you?" 

"Yes! Yes! But we must be arriving home soon- Suzanne wants to throw a party! We must bring andrew back right away!"

"Yes m'dear." He searched deeply into her eyes while her cheeks grew pink under his gaze. It seemed only seconds ago that their lips were  far apart, and now, only inches away. 

At that very moment, Andrew said, "I really hate to break this moment, but we need to move. I hear that revolutionary whose back you stuck a pin into is on the trail." He turned slightly red, "Sorry, Percy." he coughed awkwardly. "Excuse me."

Marguerite laughed her pretty little laugh! "You pinned something to a revolutionary's back? How clever! But Andrew is right Percy- Armand waits for us in England." His careful hands left her hips and retreated into his pockets. 

"Yes. M'dear."

As they headed out of the inn, Marguerite leaned over to Percy and whispered, "Don't look so blue- we'll catch up on the Daydream." 

Then they all piled into the carriage.