Author Topic: Elodie Eppinette- Conte des couchers de soleil (Tale Of The Setting Suns)  (Read 662 times)


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Chapter I

"Le premier coucher de soleil"

The First Sunset

(L'eau est chaude, Elodie)

"The water is warm, Elodie."

Her mother basked in the ending gleam of the sunset, her skin  radiating warmth, as did her smile as she extended out a tender hand from the darkened waters. Elodie,
gazed to her mother quizzically, she slowly arched her back, taking small steps closer to the woman, who she called mother, who made her life have a home. The sand
seeped through the cracks in her toes, the water taking its rounds in a rhythmic matter, dangerous and peaceful at the same time but most importantly-beautiful.
Elodie remembers very few things about her mother, however her  beauty she remembers with utter clarity. Her hair was the color corn, and her eyes were the color of the ocean she frequented quite often. Her skin was fair, well cared for, unharmed- a clear marking of the privilege her own daughter would never have. Her voice was
at the pace of a gentle melody, and at the tone, of a autumn breeze; cool and collected.

(Il n'y a rien à craindre, mon cher)
"There is nothing to fear dear."

Her mothered ushered her closer, as the tides nearly pushed Elodie back, keeping her footing was a challenge, doing so on the ocean floor was a whole other matter
entirely. Eventually, however she'd reach her mothers arms, the place we she always wished to be, and luckily where she stayed at this moment in her life.
Her mother held her close to her chest, brushing back the wild curls on her head, she'd lower herself down to mutter into the child's ear- sweet and serene.

("Tu vois. Tu ne dois pas avoir peur de faire un pas, parce que tu ne peux pas faire un pas que je ne serais pas avec toi.")
"See. You must not be afraid to step, because there is no-where that you could step that I would not be with you."

Elodie thought very little about the relevance  of this statement, in the moment in which it was being said, because her eyes were focused on the sunset. She was
fascinated by the vast use of colors, she lifted a tiny palm to the light, attempting to snatch it within the tiny spaces in between her fingers, as if wishing to hold
unto it's beauty forever. Her mother smiled down to her lightly, before en clasping her hand around the child's, a sharp comparison between the two.

("On ne peut pas garder le coucher du soleil cher, il doit tomber s'il y a un espoir pour que l'aube vienne.")
"One cannot keep the sunset dear, it must fall if there is any hope for the dawn to come."

Elodie frowned slightly at that, her lips pursed in dejection as she continued to stare at the sunset. Her mother began to lead her out of the water,
and upon the shore, around the dock, and back to the  alley. All the while, Elodie's tiny, grungy, and curious hand, reached out to the sunset.

Wishing To Keep It.
« Last Edit: November 03, 2018, 08:44:34 PM by Colorfullfan »


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Chapter II

"Elle se dirigea vers le coucher de soleil"

She Drifted Into The Sunset

("vous savez ce que cela signifie, n'est-ce pas?)
" You know what this means, don't you?"

Elodie turned her head, she knew what it meant- however she didn't know how to process it, how greatly it would effect her.

("Elle est partie")
"She's Gone."

Her father nodded lightly, rubbing his temples, as if he could ease his pain, by simply allowing himself to forget. He turned to Elodie, nearly shoving the jar into her hands, disgusted, enraged, too pained to even hold the pot, for he knew what it held, and what he wished it didn't. Elodie peered down to the pot, expressionless. It was not for lack of emotion, her emotions were crashing inside of her, like the tides of an ocean, she was pushed and pulled every way at the realization of her mothers death. However, feeling emotion, and expressing it were two seperate things. She sighed quietly, looking up to her father, with large rounded eyes, searching for words that a child should never be asked to find. Her father turned to walk away, muttering...

("Vous savez quoi faire avec ça.")
"You know what to do with it."

Elodie nodded. She watched her father drift out of her vision, with every step he took.

She knew how to do it
She just didn't want to do it alone.
She knew she didn't have a choice in the matter.

Elodie took off  the lid of the jar, and proceeded to walk, step by step, into the ocean. She walked slowly, not because she was  hesitant, but nostalgic of a time when she once was. She stood where her mother once stood, the waves crashed into her chest, but yet she stared into the sunset, eyes wide open, as if wanting to feel every wave, crash into her even when the made her knees buckle, almost causing her to fall over. She turned her wrist, allowing her mothers ashes to become part of the sea that she cherished so much. She watched as the tides carried her, and drifted her among the surface , crashing into the distance, perspective making it look as though it was challenging the sunset.

Elodie would raise up a hand, fingers spread towards the sunset.

Wishing To Keep it.

« Last Edit: November 03, 2018, 09:43:37 PM by Colorfullfan »


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Chapter III

"La chasse"

The Chase

" El, El! ELLL!"

Jacques came running through the streets, screaming as children do, as the worn souls of there shoes slapped against the street, their laughter echoing
throughout the proverty stricken streets.

("Tu ferais mieux de revenir avec mon livre, sale crasse!")
"You better come back with my book, you filthy scum!"

Jacques snickered.

("Tu ferais mieux de m'attraper!")
 "You better catch me!"

Elodie charged after Jacques, who she adoringly called "Jack" from time to time. She had met him, a couple weeks after her mothers passing, which she caught him trying
to steal from the local bakers stand, they had an agreement that if he as going to steal- he had to promise her a loaf a week to keep her mouth shut- which elodie
argued, that "it was alot easier to do, when your mouth is stuffed with bread." And thus, the friendship erupted.

Jacques turned the corner quickly, and Elodie whiped her head around, eyes narrowed.

("Où êtes-vous allé!?")
"Where did you go!?"

Jacques leaped down in front of her, seemingly from nowhere, smirking wide as he extends out the book.

("Je vous manque?")
"Miss me?"

("À peine.")
Elodie huffed, snatching the book back.

Jacques snorted lightly, leaning against the alley wall.

("Tu m'adores.")
"You adore me."

("Je te tolère.")
"I tolerate you."

 Elodie smirked in turn, opening her book, her eyes slowly looking up to glare at him in jest.

("Mhm. Fais-le face, Elly, je suis ton unique et unique ami, alors je suis ton meilleur ami.)
"Mhm. Face it- Elly, I am your one and only friend, so therefore I am your best friend."

("Bien sûr Jack. Tu es par defalt, mon meilleur ami.")
"Sure Jack. You are by default, my best friend."

Jacques rolled his eyes.

("Je ne vois personne d'autre voler des romans pour toi, mon cher.")
" I don't see anyone else stealing novels for you, dearest."

("Qu'est-ce que tu racontes?")
"What are you talking about?"

Jacques reached behind his back, pulling out a book of poetry, one that was collected by all the great poets of the core.
 Elodie reached out a grubby hand, eyes beaming- dancing even.

("Salut, c'est facile avec les mains, El. Tu connais ce grand bâtiment, comment ça s'appelle ... euh ...")
"Hey there- easy with the hands, El. You know that big building, what's it called... uh.."

Elodie sighed quietly.

("La bibliothèque?")
 "The Library?"

("Oui là-bas! Vous savez comment les nobles vous ont empêché d'entrer l'autre jour et à quel point vous étiez contrarié?")
"Yes there! You know how the nobles stopped you from entering the other day, and how upset you were about it?"

("... Oui, merci d'avoir soulevé cela à nouveau.")
"... Yes, thank you for bringing that up again."

She commented sarcastically.

("Bien. J'ai vu un homme sortir par là, je l'ai suivi un peu, j'ai attendu jusqu'au coucher du soleil, et puis je me suis bien…")
"Well. I saw a man exit there, followed him around a bit, waited till sunset, and then I well..."


("Bien, je l'ai un peu agressé!")
"Fine, I mugged him a little!"


(".. comment tu chopes quelqu'un 'un peu'")
".. How do you mug someone 'a little' "

("..Bien je ne l'ai pas tué.")
"..Well I didn't kill him."

(".... Je pense que vous vous attendez à ce que je vous félicite.")
"....I feel like you expect me to congratulate you on this."

("... Je pourrais vendre le livre, tu sais.")
"... I could sell the book you know."

("Non, non-non. Merci Jack.")
"No, no- no.Thank you Jack."

("Tu vois, était-ce si difficile?")
"See, was that so hard?"

("Qu'est-ce que tu veux, hm?")
"What do you want, hm?"

("Un baiser. Juste un. Sur les lèvres, cinq secondes.")
" A kiss. Just one. On the lips, five secounds."





(".... Pourquoi veux-tu que je t'embrasse de toute façon?")
".... Why do you want me  to kiss you anyways?"

(".... Pour que tu puisses dire à Ada que je suis le meilleur amateur de Port!")
".... So you can tell Ada I am the best kisser in all of Port!"

Elodie sighed heavily, kissing the boy without fear, without hesitation, she was as brave as she was intelligent, as fearless as she was foolish.

Perhaps that is why she chased many things,

The sunset being just one of them.

« Last Edit: November 03, 2018, 11:57:22 PM by Colorfullfan »


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Chapter IV

"En attendant un autre coucher de soleil"

Waiting For Another Sunset

(“Bonjour papa.”)

“ Morning, Papa.”

Elodie was much older now, she grew as children do, in tandem with Jacques. It’s not metaphorical to say they did so, hand in hand, as well. Needless to say, Elodie was introducing her early teens at this time. She stood in the doorway, of the home she was living in at the time, to call it a “Home” however was generous. To call it a “house” was even more so. It was four pieces of wood, thrown together with a blanketed roof. What’s even more unfortunate, is this would be the nicest establishment that Elodie would ever claim as her own, but even this was temporary.  Her father rolled over in his makeshift bed, that was constructed out of leaves, and surrounding trash, it looked more like a nest fit for an animal, then a bed made for a man. He squinted at Elodie, as if having trouble seeing her, it was not for his old age, for the man was barely old at all, if it was not for the shortened life expectancy in the slums, one might consider him ‘middle aged.’
His voice was cold, harsh, as it had always had been.

(Où étiez-vous?")
“ Where were you?”

Elodie glanced off, shaking her head.

(“J'étais avec… Jacques…”)
“ I was with… Jacques..”

Her father grumbled, stumbling to his feet in a hangover manner, when it came to her father- he had ALWAYS been drinking.  He walked over, grabbing her arm, tightly.

("Qu'est-ce que je t'ai dit à propos de voir ce garçon?")
“What did I tell you about seeing that boy?”

Elodie narrowed her eyes, as she always did before she was about to cry, something that she was much better at controlling now, but in her youth, was another story.

("... Je sais ce que tu as dit.")
“... I know what you said.”

Her father raised his voice, lifting a hand to her cheek, he struck her. Without thought, without hesitation, in a swift motion. A practiced motion, this was not the first time. Even though it did not struck him, it struck her as if it was. She was a relatively small thing, a fragile thing, a weak thing, although she would have never admitted it then, and she would like never admit it. She was malnourished, and awkwardly tall, when it came to her stature, she was all legs, it didn’t take much to bring her down. When she fell, she fell hard. She didn’t look at her father, she didn’t move, she knew better. She also knew that the man who stood before her, was not her father.

Her father stood over her, overpowering her.  Pools of blue, and rage glanced down to his daughter, who was the mirror image of the woman he had once loved, but know lost. The drinking he did blurred his vision, and the pain he had impacted his judgement.

Neither of these were an excuse, but instead an explanation.

Elodie knew why. 

Elodie knew that come sunset, the pain would stop, her father would leave to find more poison.

Every day, she longed for the Sunset.

("Ce garçon ne t'aime pas, il n'est pas bon pour toi, il ne t'emmènera jamais dans la vie.")
“ That boy, doesn’t love you, he’s no good for you, He’s never going to take you anywhere in Life.”

He continued, it seemed like he continued forever in that moment, eventually her own vision blurred, as the tears collected in her eyes, clouding her vision, the blows continued, the insults continued. She never fought back, she wasn't feisty then.

She wasn't powerful then.

She wasn't Elodie then.

She was just the girl who longed for the Sunset to come.
« Last Edit: November 05, 2018, 08:52:11 AM by Colorfullfan »


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Chapter V

"Elle l'aime"

She Loves Him

Elodie Sighed heavily, inhaling the salted air throughout her nostrils. She watched as the sunrise, as the city was
just starting to wake up. She hated the sunrise.  She stood, jack a pace infront of her. He wore a large pack on his back, and a bittersweet smile
on his cheeks, as he looked over. Reaching up a hand to rest on her cheek.

("Ce ne sera pas aussi long qu'il y paraît, El.")
"It won't be as long as it seems, El."

("... Tu ferais mieux de ne pas mourir.")
"... You better not die."

She laughed to herself, as if almost forcing herself to distract herself from what she wanted to, which was cry. Jack shook his head,
setting his hands to her waist, as he smirked, drawing her in closer somewhat.

("... Je ne peux pas mourir, il y a cette amère sorcière qui causerait des ravages dans les rues du port, si je le faisais.")
".. I can't die, there's this bitter hag, that would cause havok on the streets of Port if I did."

 Elodie snorted rolling her eyes.

("Je suis sérieux ... S'il te plaît, viens à la maison.")
" I'm serious.. Please come home."

("Je pars, donc quand je reviens, nous avons assez de pièces de monnaie et pouvons construire un endroit où appeler à la maison.")
" I'm leaving, so when I come back we  have enough coin, and can build a place to call home."

("... j'ai déjà une maison, avec toi.")
"... I already have a home, with you." 

("... je veux dire un quatre murs El.")
"... I mean one four walls El."

He smirked, turning away from her, tipping his cap as he moved to step off.
Elodie ringed her hands out, before managing to speak out.


He paused, looking over his shoulder.


She gave a stupid smile, a rare one, a sincere one.

("... Je t'aime.")
"... I love you."

He shook his head.

("Je t'aime aussi longtemps que je te connais.")
" I'ved loved you for as long as I've known you."

She noded lightly to that, rubbing her forearm, a bit stunned.  Jack beamed  at her response, before fully  walking off,
adjusting the weight on his back, seeming to be struggling with it. He'd pause ever three feet to wave back to Elodie,
she'd wave back, before shooing him off to continue. She watched ever one of his steps, from the sands, to the docks,
to the ship. She memorized every step that he took away from her.

She watched the ship disappear upon the horizon.

She counted every step, as she would count every sunrise, until he was promised to return home.
« Last Edit: November 05, 2018, 06:17:44 PM by Colorfullfan »


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Chapter VI

"La danse sous le coucher de soleil"

The Dance Beneath The Sunset

("Tu ne te moqueras pas de moi Elodie.")
"You will not make a Mockery of Me Elodie."

she nodded lightly, as she held her breath, tightening her corset.

("Tu m'entends, ma fille? Assez de ce Jack Nonsense, tu ne vieillis pas.")
"You Hear me Girl? Enough of this Jack Nonsense, you are not getting any older."

("..Je souhaite être courtisé par Jack, Père.")
"..I wish to be courted by Jack, Father."

("La vie ne consiste pas en ce que tu souhaites, mais ce que tu dois faire. Ne me déçois pas.")
"Life is not about what you wish, but what you must do. Do not disappoint me."

He hovered over elodie, forcing his hands to hes shoulders, forcing her to sit down. He leans to speak into her ear,
his  voice as callous as it always was.

("..Vous ferez ce que vous allez dire.")
"..You will do what you will told."

Elodie glared at her reflection in the mirror, more importantly she glared at the man who stood behind her.
She said nothing more as the tears collected in her eyes, the thoughts of running scanned her mind, her father took a
breath, lightening his voice. Not because he felt remorse, but because he felt his daughter was soon to rebel. He attempted
to speak sweetly, but it was so out of his nature, that it sounded ominous, and almost toxic to her ear. She flinched from
words, from his touch, for good reasons beyond the obvious.

("Une jolie fille comme toi Elodie, mérite mieux que ce que je peux te donner, ou une racaille comme Jack pourrait te donner ...
Il a fallu que je tire quelques faveurs de Madame Lavine pour vous confectionner cette robe. Viens un cher, je suis ton père, et
c'est tout ce que je demande. ")

" A Pretty girl like you Elodie, Deserves better than What I can given you, Or A scum like Jack could give you...
I had to pull a couple... favors... with Madame Lavine to even make you this dress. Come one dear, I am your father, and
this all I ask."

She said nothing more, taking a deep breath as she relaxed her breath, stepping out the door. Her father made no motion to
stop her, for she knew she was as weak as she was obident, the two seemed to go hand in hand. She knew the road, quite well
to the manor house. She had taken the route multiple times when her and Jack were children. He'd take off his hat that was three
sizes too big for his head, and point, at the building, his smile unfaultering, as her presented it to Elodie as his own.
Perhaps because in some another life, they had dreamed of it being so. She remembered him gesturing to the front porch once,
and stating.

("Là, juste là. Ce premier pas est l'endroit où je vais te voir, chaque jour quand je rentre à la maison. Avec un livre dans un bras,
et notre enfant dans l'autre. ")

"There, Right There. That First Step is where I'm going to see you, every day when I return home. With a book in one arm,
and our child in the other."

As she stepped on the same stair , years later. She frowned, knowing that by stepping on it now, the dream she had once had
would likely never come true.

As she stepped up, she glanced to the guard, who was too busy chatting with one of the local wealthy woman, to pay the
street rat, any notice. She flattened her gown. Stepping into the life of luxury for the first time, was a lot to take in.
The walls were high, as if reaching up to the gods, the windows were broad, as if one could see all of the port city in one
glance. Fur was everywhere, to display wealth, and crystals were used in merely everything possiable to ensure jealousy.
The women were painted in their faces to hide their age, and forcast a false use, their dresses were enlarged to hide the
fact they had no curves, and amongst these women, stood Elodie. The malnourished child, with the stark blonde hair, deepset
ocean eyes, and a dress made of linen, simple and plain as the unpainted features that dawned her face. It was not long,
before she caught the attention of the wandering eyes, from the Noble women. She stepped out, trying to fit in, however
every step was jarring, and only made evident of the fact, that the girl was certianly not meant to be there.

It was not however, until the music started once more, and every woman had a match, and every step had a purpose.
Elodie stood by the wall, her lips pursed, as much as she tried to hide it, the girl was apologetically bored.
She was staring out, watching the pairs dance, lost in thought, lost in the rhythm, She barely noticed when the man approached her.

A man  with a polished black suit and a roguish smile, approached her, it was evident he was confident in every word,
every action that he ever took.

("Puis-je avoir cette danse, Mademoiselle?")
"May I Have this dance, Miss?"

Elodie nodded silently, sheepishly. She didn't wish to dance with the man, nor even be in his presence. But she did so,
taking his hand in her own. He was swift, Elodie was clusmy. He was confident, Elodie was uncomfortable. She clearly
wanted nothing more for this moment to end.

He smirked down to her, making an excuse to get close to her, to mutter into her ear.

("Tu sais, la plupart des femmes s'évanouiraient en ce moment. Ce n'est pas à chaque instant que tu arrives à danser avec un homme de haute stature, comme moi.")
"You know, most women would be swooning in this moment. It is not every moment you get to dance with a man of high stature, such as myself. "

Elodie took a breath, turning her head away from the man somewhat.

("... Je ne suis pas comme la plupart des femmes .)
"...I am unlike most women.."

He scoffed.

("Toutes les femmes se ressemblent ... Ne prétendez pas que vous êtes unique, Miss. Je sais qui vous êtes, oui. Elodie Eppinette,
une femme éduquée, débrouillarde et autoproclamée, quand vous êtes simplement un streetrat, désirant réclamer un
Titre. ")

" All women are alike...Do not pretend like you are unique, Miss. I know exactly who you are, yes. Elodie Eppinette,
a resourceful and self proclaimed educated woman, when merely you are nothing more than a streetrat, wishing to claim a
title. "

Elodie Arched a brow, somewhat defensively, still dancing with the man, her steps somewhat more aggressive as the dance

("... Alors dis-moi, pourquoi je ne m'évanouis pas?")
"... Then tell me, why I am non swooning?"

("Tu ne t'évanouis pas, ou tu ne t'admets pas tout simplement?")
" Are you not swooning, or just not  admitting to yourself?"

Elodie smirked at that then, almost evilly.

("... Je ne suis pas évanouie et, contrairement à la plupart des femmes, je n'ai aucune honte ni aucune hésitation à te nier.)
"... I am non swooning, and unlike most women, I have no shame  nor hesitation in denying you."

She took a step, lifting her her chin to the man somewhat, stepping past the man.

("... Tu vas le regretter.")
"... You'll regret that.

He shouts, the entire ballroom stops, to stare at Elodie. She glances across the crowd, and then past them to the open door.

She smirks, seeing the door open, the sun setting at  the Horizon.

"I might regret it for the consequences, but never for the action."

and with that, she stepped past the silent room, the dirt clinging to her dress, and the smirk clinging on the corners of
her cheeks.

She was a woman of many regrets,

But chasing the Sunset, Was Never One of them.

« Last Edit: November 07, 2018, 06:11:11 PM by Colorfullfan »


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Chapter VII

Lettre d'amour

Love Letter

29 septembre 769


au moment où vous lisez cette lettre, j'aurai déjà quitté le port et je serai à nouveau sur les mers déchaînées.
Cela fait des semaines que nous nous sommes quittés pour la dernière fois et, bien que beaucoup de choses se soient passées et se soient modifiées dans ma vie, rien n’a
changé la façon dont je te vois, ni la façon dont je t'aime .. Quand j'ai eu cette offre d'emploi à l'origine, je voulais la refuser
Je me suis souvenu que si je devais obtenir la permission de vos pères d’avoir votre main, je devrais
être un homme riche. Ce travail ne fera pas de moi un homme riche, mais c’est un pas de plus. Un pas de plus pour pouvoir
de t'appeler ma douce femme.
Je parle constamment de toi à mes amis, même s'ils me taquinent sans cesse. Tu devras me pardonner,
car je leur ai tellement parlé de vous, que je crois qu'ils pourraient commencer à vous connaître mieux que moi. Dieux, tu me manques.
La façon dont vous me corrigez et me traine par la main me manque.

Ton amour pour la connaissance me manque et la lumière dans tes yeux me manque.

Mais je vous assure que tout va bien ici moins mon profond désir pour vous.

Je sais que vous jouez "difficile à obtenir" mais faites-moi une faveur et répondez,



September 29th, 769


by the time you are reading this letter, I will have already left the port and be once again on the raging seas.
It has been weeks since we last parted, and while many things have happened and changed in my life, nothing has
changed the way that I see you, nor the way I love you.. When I originally got this job offer, I wished to decline it
heavily, but then I remembered that if I were to ever get your fathers permission to have your hand, that I would have to
be a wealthy man. This line of work will not make me a wealthy man, but it is a step closer. A step closer to being able
to call you my sweet wife.
I tell my mates about you constantly, even though they tease me none stop about it. You'll have to forgive me,
for I've told them so much about you, that I believe they might start to know you better than I do. Gods, I miss you.
I miss the way you'd correct me, and drag me through the streets by the hand.

I miss your love for knowledge, and the light in your eyes.

But I assure you, all is well here minus my deep longing for you.

I know you are playing 'hard to get' but do me a favor and write back,

Would you?


13 octobre 769


Je ne sais pas quand vous recevrez cette lettre, mais j'espère que cela vous apportera autant de joie que la vôtre me l’a apporté.
J'espère que les mers vous traitent bien, les eaux, je crois, me rendraient plutôt malade, mais vous avez toujours eu le cœur et
l’estomac pour faire face à ce qui est peu recommandable, c’est l’une des choses que je préfère en ce qui me concerne. Essayez de ne pas dire à votre
travailleurs tout ce qui me concerne, je crains que vous ayez à raconter au fil des ans de nombreuses histoires embarrassantes, au point où elles pourraient
ne me prenez jamais au sérieux, s'ils me voyaient en personne. Quant à mon père, je ne sais pas pourquoi l'un de nous essaie de faire plaisir
lui plus. Je dirais que vous et moi aurions dû monter dans le bateau et naviguer n'importe où dans le monde que nous souhaitions - simplement partir.
J'aurais été contente sans l'argent, tant que je t'aurais eu. Tu ferais mieux d'être en sécurité, tu m'entends? Sûr. Aucun de
votre théâtre "Jack". Je veux que tu rentres à la maison, plus important encore. Je te veux à la maison. Quant à être ta femme, je ne comprendrai jamais,
pourquoi voudriez-vous me courtiser de toutes les femmes, cependant, je suppose- si le moment venait, je n'aurais pas d'autre choix alors
être votre épouse.
 Les mots ne pouvaient pas décrire à quel point tu me manques profondément.
Vous avez créé de la couleur dans ma vie alors qu'elle était censée être terne et inépuisable.
Le garçon qui m'a appris à rêver et passe son temps à les occuper me manque.

Était-ce bien? J'essaie d'être romantique ici.


October 13th, 769


I am not sure when you will receive this letter, but I hope it will bring you as much joy, as yours has brought to me.
I hope the seas are treating you well, the waters I believe would make me rather Ill, but you always had the heart and
the stomach to deal with the unsavory, this was one of the things I believe I favor most about you. Try not to tell your
workers everything about me, I fear you have to many embarrassing stories over the years to share, to the point they could
never take me seriously, if they were to see me in person. As for my father, I don't know why either of us try to please
him anymore. I'd say, me and you should've gotten in the boat, and sailed anywhere in the world we wished- simply away.
I would've been content without the money, as long as I would've had you. You better be safe, you hear me? Safe. None of
your 'Jack' theatrics. I want you home, more importantly- I want you home. As for being your wife, I will never fathom,
why you would wish to court me of all women, however, I suppose- should the time come, I would have no other option then
to be your bride.
 Words could not describe how deeply I miss you.
You created color in my life when it was meant to be dull and unfulling.
I miss the boy who taught me how to dream, and spends his time occupying them.

Was that good?, I'm trying to be romantic here.



26 octobre 769

Mon el,

C'était plutôt inattendu de votre part, mais je ne me plains pas. Qui a connu la même fille qui pourrait emballer un coup de poing, pourrait également
créer de belles combinaisons de mots. Ah, le livre commun que theif a fait! - (ne pas se vanter). Comment allez-vous amour As-tu trouvé
travailler, encore? Comment ... votre père est-il moins évident? Quant à votre commentaire de départ, je ne suis jamais du genre à fuir de mon
problèmes El, et je suis sûr que votre père était un homme de raison une fois, qui peut dire qu'il ne peut pas être à nouveau? Tout le monde aime un audacieux
histoire d'amour de toute façon. Je vais travailler sur les ligestics, mon cher. Tout ce dont tu as à t'inquiéter, c'est de cette jolie petite robe blanche.
et où vous obtiendrez une telle chose. Parfois, je suis distrait par les tâches quotidiennes que je fais, simplement en pensant à voir
toi dans une robe de blanc, comme tu vas être belle. Cela ne veut pas dire que vous n'êtes pas toujours belle, mais bon, vous savez
ce que je veux dire, je suppose qu’à ce stade, je me plonge tout simplement dans un tout plus profond. Ai-je mentionné que je suis fou de toi,
et juste totalement captivé par votre présence? Je te choisis Elodie, pour cette raison même, ne doute jamais de mes motivations, ni
mes intentions, pour les auvents seront tout simplement. Vous êtes au centre de presque tout ce que je fais.

Si je ne l'ai pas fait assez évident,


October 26th 769

My El,

That was rather unexpected of you, but I am not complaining. Who knew the same girl who could pack a punch, could also
create beautiful combinations of words. Ah, the common book thief did!- (not to boast). How are you love? Have you found
work, yet? How.. is your father- minus the obvious? As for you comment of sailing away, I am never one to run from my
problems El, and I am sure your father was a reason man once, who's to say he can't be again? Everyone loves a daring
love story anyhow. I will work out the linguistics, my dear. All you need to worry about is that pretty little gown of white,
and where you would get such a thing. Sometimes I'll get distracted doing my daily tasks her, simply thinking about seeing
you in a gown of white, how beautiful you will look. That's not to say you are not always beautiful, but well, you know
what I mean, I suppose at this point, I am simply digging myself into a deeper whole. Did I mention I'm crazy about you,
and just utterly enthralled by your presence? I am choosing you Elodie, for that very reason, never doubt my motives, nor
my intentions, for the answers will simply be- you. You are the focus of nearly everything I do.

If I haven't made that quite obvious,


12 novembre 769


J'ai trouvé du travail, et bien je suppose que c'est plus un système de troc que de travail. Je travaille chez le tailleur local
magasin pour apprendre le métier, prendre note des commandes de base, le propriétaire est une femme assez gentille, je suis tellement reconnaissante qu’elle m’a emmenée.
Elle paie avec les produits de boulangerie qu'elle fabrique, ils sont corrects, au moins copieux. Le pain ressemble presque à de la pierre
notre père est ... Père, quand il ne me jette pas sur un noble, il me fait faire son
sale boulot, ou payer pour sa survie. Quand exactement rentrez-vous à la maison pour me chasser? Je meurs lentement en attendant
pour ce jour. De plus, je suppose que cela résout tout le scénario de la «robe blanche», SI je vous épousais.
Je pourrais avoir besoin de convaincre, vous savez? Je sais qu’il est trop facile de se laisser distraire par la pensée de vous, j’ai
piqué mon doigt, cousant plusieurs fois, en le faisant.

Combien de jours est-ce?

Non ... que je compte !!!


November 12th, 769


I have found work, well I suppose it is more of a barter system more so than work. I am working at the local tailoring
shop to learn the trade, take note of basic orders, the owner is a fairly nice woman, I am so grateful she took me in.
She pays with the baked goods she makes, they are decent, atleast filling.The bread is almost rock like, like the kind
we recovered from the nobles rejects.Father is... Father, when he is not throwing me at a noble, he is making me do his
dirty work, or pay for his survival. When exactly are you coming home to whisk me away?I'm am slowly dying as I wait
for that day. Also, I suppose that solves the whole 'white gown' scenario, IF I were to marry you.
I might need some convincing,  you know? I know it is to so easy to be  distracted with the thought of you, I have
pricked my  finger, several times sewing, while doing so.

How many more days Is it?

Not... that I'm counting!,

« Last Edit: December 22, 2018, 05:29:36 AM by Colorfullfan »


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Chapter VIII
“Couchers de soleil sans toi.“

Sunsets Without You.

3 décembre 769


Le soleil se couche et tout ce à quoi je peux penser, c’est vous, à quel point vous auriez aimé le voir.
C'est beau, ici au large, ça donne à un homme le temps de réfléchir. Tout ce que je souhaite dans cette vie, c'est toi. Dans peu de temps, je pourrai vous appeler ma fiancée, rien ne me fait plus plaisir. Pour penser, il n’a fallu que neuf ans pour vous convaincre. (Je pense que cela a aidé, vous soudoyant avec du pain.) Je plaisante, mais ce n'est pas un secret que je voulais que vous soyez à moi, à partir du moment où je vous ai rencontré. La séparation de vous n’est pas facile, c’est en fait plutôt difficile, car il me manque de regarder le soleil se lever et se coucher dans vos yeux d’océan. Maintenant, je suis parti, sur l'océan - et même s'il est beau, il n'a aucune comparaison avec vous.

Travailler sur le navire m’a apporté une construction plus solide, je pense que vous aurez du mal à reconnaître l’homme que vous connaissiez jadis. Je ne suis plus le rat de rue maigre, avec les joues creusées, ils me nourrissent bien ici, ils le font. Je pourrais m'habituer à cette vie Élodie, ne pas avoir à voler, acheter ou manipuler mon chemin à travers la vie… pour une fois, ma vie est confortable. Le seul inconfort est de ne pas pouvoir vous voir.

On me dit que ce temps passera rapidement.

Je me mords la langue

December 3rd, 769


The sun is setting, and all I can think of is you, how you would’ve loved to see it.
It is beautiful, out here on the open sea, it gives a man time to think. All I wish for in this life is you. In a short time, I will be able to call you my bride, nothing makes me happier. To think, it only took nine years , of convincing you. (I think it helped, bribing you with bread.) I jest , however it is not secret that I wanted you to be mine, from the moment I met you. The separation from you is not easy, in fact it is rather hard, because I miss watching the sun rise and set in your ocean eyes. Now I set sail, on the ocean- and while it is beautiful it holds no comparison to you. 

Working on the ship has given me more of a stronger build, I think you will find it hard to recognize the man you once knew. I am no longer the scrawny street rat, with the hollowed cheeks, they feed me well here, they do. I could get used to this life elodie, not having to steal, bribe, or manipulate my way through life… for once, my life is comfortable. The only discomfort is not getting to see you.

I am told this time will pass quickly.

I am biting my tongue,


13 décembre 769


Regarder les couchers de soleil sans toi est une vie que je n’ai vraiment pas voulu vivre. Bien qu’elles soient belles, je me demande parfois si c’étaient les couchers de soleil que je poursuivais, ou tout simplement vous. La pensée d'être votre fierté me procure la plus grande joie de vivre. La promenade de la veuve est un endroit si morne, sombre et affreux. C'est insensible et vil, et chaque pouce de ma peau le méprise. Je ne voudrais rien de plus que de vivre une vie confortable avec vous, loin de tout cela. Je souhaite juste que votre départ ne soit pas le moyen de le faire. J'ai entendu des histoires de sirènes, si vous me quittez pour une femme-poisson, je vais sûrement vous tuer. Moi aussi je plaisante, un peu. Très bien, je ne le fais pas. En ce qui concerne le fait que nous soyons «forts», c’est quelque chose que je devrai attendre avant de voir, car je ne peux pas l’imaginer dans mon esprit. La pauvreté nous a rendus malnutris depuis la naissance, seuls ceux qui sont nourris peuvent développer des muscles.

Tu te souviens quand on s'est faufilés dans la figue d'or, cette fois? Je n’oublierai jamais cette époque: nous nous sommes posés comme serveurs et nous nous sommes faufilés dans la cuisine pour voler tout ce que nous pouvions emporter. Nous avons été attrapés bien sûr, nous n'étions que des enfants. Parfois, je me demande si le chef n’a pas eu de cœur et s’il nous a signalé. Que serions-nous devenus? Bien que j'espère une vie confortable avec vous, je ne souhaite jamais oublier d'où nous venons. Je ne veux jamais être si à l'aise, que j'oublie ce que c'était de naître dans la pauvreté. Je souhaite ne jamais être si noble, que j'oublie qui je suis et, plus important encore, que je suis avec vous.

Je te verrai bientôt est relatif,


December 13th, 769


Watching the sunsets without you, is a life I truly never wished to live. For while they are beautiful, sometimes I wonder if it was the sunsets I was chasing, or merely you. The thought of being your bride, gives me the greatest joy in life. The widow's walk is such a dreary, dark, and awful place. It is callous, and vile, and every inch of my skin despises it. I would want nothing more than to live a comfortable life with you, away from all of this. I just wish you leaving wasn't the way to do so.  I’ve heard tales of sirens, if you leave me for a fish-woman, I will undoubtedly kill you. I too jest, somewhat. Alright fine, I don’t. As for either of us being ‘strong’ that is something I will just have to wait to see, for I cannot picture it in my mind. Poverty has made us malnourished since birth, only those that are fed can build muscle.

You remember when we snuck into the golden fig, that one time? “The Finest Restaurant, In All Of Port ‘a Leucine”. I’ll never forget that time, we posed as waiters, and snuck into the kitchen, only to steal as much food as we could carry. We were caught of course, we were just children. Sometimes I wonder if the chef hadn't have had a heart, and if he would’ve reported us. What would’ve become of us? Although I am looking forward to a comfortable life with you, I never wish to forget where we come from. I never want to be so comfortable, that I forget what it was like to be born into poverty. I wish to never be so noble, that I forget who I am, and more importantly, forget who I am with you.

I will see you , soon is relative,


3 janvier 770

Les couchers de soleil vont disparaître assez longtemps, et les jours vont disparaître, nous nous reverrons bientôt, j'en suis sûr. Je chasserais un million de couchers de soleil pour regarder le lever du soleil avec vous. En plus, nous savons tous les deux combien je suis persévérant, c’est la seule chose qui m’a gardé en vie toutes ces années, vous aussi. Je me souviens de l’incident Golden Fig, comme si c’était hier, c’est la seule fois où je me suis fait prendre à voler. Je me souviens de vous avoir tenu proche, de vous sentir si coupable de vous avoir mis dans mes affaires, mes crimes, quand je me suis promis de ne jamais vous blesser, de prouver que votre père avait tort, qu'un jour je serais digne de vous Elodie Eppinette
J'attends toujours ce jour-là.
Je vous regarde et me demande si ce jour viendra jamais.
Parce que bientôt tu seras ma femme, la mère de mes enfants,
Et comment vais-je vous rembourser d'avoir rendu ma vie entière?
Comment vais-je me mesurer?
Ton père a raison, je ne suis pas assez bon pour toi, El. Mais personne ne l'est.
Personne ne le sera jamais.
Mais je vais passer toute ma vie,
Essayer d'être.

Jusque là,

January 3rd, 770

The sunsets will fade into days long enough, and days will fade into weeks, we will see eachother soon, this I am sure of. I’d chase a million sunsets to watch the sunrise with you. Besides, we both know how persistent I am, it’s the only thing that’s kept me alive all these years, you as well. I remember the Golden Fig Incident, like it was yesterday, it’s the only time I’ve gotten caught- thieving. I remember holding you close, feeling so guilty for getting  you into my mess, my crimes, when I promised myself that I’d never hurt you, that I’d prove your father wrong, that one day I’d be worthy of you, Elodie Eppinette.
I’m still waiting on that day.
I look at you, and wonder if that day will ever come.
Because soon you’ll be my wife, the mother of my children,
And how will I repay you, for making my life whole?
How will I measure up?
Your father is right, I’m not good enough for you, El. But no-one is.
No one will ever be.
But I’ll spend my whole life,
Trying to be.

Until then,

23 janvier 770


Personne ne se compare à vous ni ne mérite mon amour plus que vous. Personne ne l'aura jamais non plus.
Vous occupez tellement mes pensées que je pensais les écrire sur papier, ce qui me permettait de composer un poème.

Quand le vent dans tes voiles brille sur la mer, souviens-toi de moi.
Quand le whisky dans votre chope est vidé, souvenez-vous de moi.
Quand les raz de marée tombent sur vous, souvenez-vous de moi.
Quand vous vous sentez comme si vous vous noyiez, souvenez-vous de moi.
Car il n'y a que toi, dont je me souviens,
A travers les ténèbres de décembre,
Souviens-toi de moi?

C'était affreux, je sais. Mais je devais mettre quelque chose sur papier pour que vous sachiez à quel point je vous aime. Parce que je le fais. Peut-être, de manière embarrassante.

Viens à la maison. Tu me manques,

Votre El.

January 23rd, 770


No--one compares to you, or deserves my love more so than you. No-one will ever have it, either.
You occupy my thoughts so much, I thought I’d write them down on paper, when doing so I composed a bit of a poem.

When the wind, in your sails, shines across the sea- remember me.
When the whiskey in your tankard is emptied- remember me.
When the tidal waves are crashing down upon you- remember me.
When you feel as if you're drowning- remember me.
For there is only you, who I remember,
Through the darkness  of december,
Will you,
Remember me?

That was awful, I know. But I had to get something down on paper, to let you know how much I love you. Because I do. Perhaps, embarrassingly so.

Come home. I miss you,

Your El.


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Chapter IX

“Elle qui est ada“

She Who Is Ada.

("Jack, il y a une autre lettre ici, pour toi!)

“Jack, There is another letter over here, for ya!”

commented one of his crew mates, as he stumbled over, half drunk, half exhausted, all the combination of a true sailor.

("Elodie Vous avez ma lettre si vite?")

“Elodie Got my letter so soon?

The Drunken sailor shook his head, turning the letter over, hading it upside down before , he reads slowly, ignorantly.

(“Euh… non, pas de votre fille, de… quelques-uns… Ada? Est-ce votre maman?”)

“Uh… Nah, not from your girl, from… some.. Ada? Is that your Ma?”

Jack blinked twice. He hadn't heard from  Ada, in years. She used to be his fascination for a time, and why wouldn’t she be? She came from a good , noble family, she was educated, she was simply stunning. Her hair was quill straight, and it shined beyond no other comparison. Her eyes were of midnight, as was her locks, and she had freckles that spread over her button nose, and below her almond shaped eyes. She was rather womanly shaped, blessed to say the least on top of that. However, one could suppose, that when one is fed, that they can easily attain such. Needless to say, Ada heavily favored in port of Leucine. Ada Pelletier, the daughter of a privileged ancestry of fur traders, who brought such into fashion, in the great city of lights. With her great-grandfather's work, her blood-line would be set for life.

A foreign concept, to both Jack, And Elodie.
He shook his head smirking lightly, he searched for adjectives, but never found one that was suitable, to describes his importance to the woman.

("Non, juste ... un de mes vieux amis.”)
“No, Just… an old ‘friend’ of mine.”

Friend was a lack-luster term, to describe the woman. She was never his friend, nor would she ever be, she was manipulative, a woman of needs, a woman of wants, and a woman who simply, and genuinely, always got it. She had led Jack astray from months, slept in his sheets, made a home in his heart, only to abandon such, when a fellow noble asked for her hand in marriage.

She wasn't his friend.

But yet he wanted so much more than that.

The sailor slapped his back, sharing a smirk of his own.
(“".. Je ne reçois aucune lettre d'aucun de mes" amis ".")

“.. I don’t get letters from any of my ‘friends’.”

Without the sailor walked off, shaking his head, as he went about on his duties, a smug expression, and a tankard in his grip, somehow he was more the wiser, than dear jack.

Jack scoffed to himself, before turning over the letter. His thumb pressed over her delicate writing, “Ada Pelletier.” He’d recite her name, continuously in his mind, several times. He liked the jarringness of it all. He liked that, that was the only jarring thing about her. It enthralled him, in such a manner, that he never felt guilty for it. The letter was sealed, with the crest of her lineage. He pressed it open gently, to pull out a crisp paper of paris, scented with red rose, a smell he’d remember. He enfolded the letter, his eyes of jade scanning over it eagerly, greedily.

Des années ont passé depuis notre dernière conversation et j'espère que vous vous souviendrez de moi. Car je me souviens de toi, comme si c'était hier. Nos moments ensemble me manquent, même s'ils ont été brefs, personne ne peut douter qu'ils étaient adorables.
Je m'excuse sincèrement, de ne pas vous avoir écrit plus tôt, cela a été très mal vu, après avoir accepté mes fiançailles et me soit plus tard marié. C’était un mariage sans amour que je regrette sincèrement. Bien que je ne souhaite jamais la mort à quelqu'un, je lui suis reconnaissant de son décès. Cela m'a offert une immense quantité de liberté. Liberté d'aimer, liberté de choisir. J'ai entendu parler de votre récente occupation. Toutes nos félicitations! Je suis si fier de toi, rien ne rend une veuve plus joyeuse.
C'est étrange, de me considérer comme une veuve, j'ai beaucoup d'hommes qui frappent à ma porte. Ironiquement, le seul homme que je souhaite prendre ma main, a mis les voiles vers la mer.
Je ne suis rien, si je ne suis pas une femme patiente.

Years have passed since we last spoke, and I do hope you remember me. For I remember you, as if it was yesterday. I miss our times together, though they were brief, no-one can doubt they were lovely.
I sincerely apologize, for not writing you sooner, it was heavily frowned upon, after I accepted my engagement, and later got wed. It was a loveless marriage, one that I sincerely regret, and while I would never wish death upon someone, I am grateful for his passing. It has offered me an immense amount of freedom. Freedom to love, freedom to choose. I heard word of your recent occupation. Congratulations! I am so proud of you, nothing makes a widow more joyful.
It is strange, to consider myself a widow, I have many men knocking on my door. Ironically so, the only man I wish to take my hand, has set his sails to the sea.
I am nothing, if I am not a patient woman.

Jack lowered the letter from his hands, taking a breath as he shook his head.
He had a choice to make.

But never did he feel guilty of making it.

He sat in his bunk, looking at the ships wall, in which he had covered, in his letters from elodie. He took a nail, pinning Ada’s letter on top of such, a smirk coming to his features.

Ada was now a widow.
And he had spent his lifetime, walking amongst the pier, known as the widow's walk.

He knew the steps.

All too well.