ᰔ Song of a MARTYR ᰔ Play Song: Skyfall ١٥٧٤١٥٧٤١٥٧٤١٥٧٤١٥٧٤١٥٧٤١٥٧٤١٥٧٤١٥٧٤١٥٧٤١٥٧٤ "Jean, dear, where would you be going now?" But Ghislaine, or rather Jean was busy chatting away, completely unbothered. Not because she had a reason to be, but because she knew Rooney was staring. Staring and observing her. How was she supposed to let this man play with her, and send her to the authorities for something which she did which was not wrong. It was as if she was at fault for trying to forget that there was a war. Where had humanity gone to? But right now she needed to survive. Survive how? She had no choice. She'd have to act like her late personal maid. Slowly sipping on her soup, she caught Clark staring at her. She should have felt scared, but all that she felt was naturally inclined to give him a smile, just to irritate him even more. "Oh...ummm...I think I will go back home after Dr. Rooney let me a free charge." "Home? Where is you home, dear?" "London!" --- There she was. Little toddler running up to her father's arms. Her red hair, that currently did not look brown under the sunlight of the dusk, falling in tiny curls on her blue puffed lace sleeves, right on her shoulders. The girl was roughly about the age of a five year old child, but her height made her look younger, perhaps younger than a three year old child. With bubbly round cheeks, that one could call ruddy cheeks for their red colours and a cute nose, and a lovely smile, she was one heck of a baby. A cute doll, with those abnormally large green eyes that could stare at you for countless hours like a sweet pea, was trying to gain her father's attention. Her father? Alexandre Augustin, the man who was the lord and owner of a grand village that boasted of grape vineyards and hint of joy floating around in the air, was considered the most handsome bachelor of his time. That aside his lineage that boasted of his French royalty bl00dline could not be left unnoticed, after all, he was a direct descendent of the Bordeaux line of Royals from Louis XIII's children, giving him a more regal aura about himself. Now this man, a man whom all the people found to be utterly wonderful was married to a woman. His wife, and the mother to this tiny little child who was grappling at his feet, Maria Augustin. A beautiful woman indeed, with her Russian heritage boasting the name of Ivan The Terrible, prominently so that one could certainly say that she had...wonders coming for. Like the fact that she had been forced to marry Alexandre against her will. Or the fact that the man was completely smitten with her to the point of obsession, something she could not accept when her heart already belonged to another. And this crazy woman who was often locked up within her room hated her only daughter. A reason, as to why the tiny child was trying to gain her father's attention instead of her mother's. Why? Well all because she had been forced to have a child, not with her will, and to find that the daughter of her's was a complete copy of her father. Not a single strand of black, and even the eyes were green and deep like that of her father's, not pearly silver like Maria's. What wasn't there to hate about a child of your own that looked like the man you detested like your own life? That put aside, let us return to the scene. The girl grabbed onto her father's leg, at least till where she could reach, and barely avoided being bashed in the face with her father's foot, because Alexandre wasn't a man who simply let people cling to his legs. He was a man, if who felt people clinging to his feet, would kick up an entire fuss just to have the person who held his leg suffer from his shoe. "Ghislaine!" He sighed, in relief, as he picked the girl up, who was looking up at him with her slanted eyelids that blinked so sweetly at him. For a normal adult, such lovely eyes would have done the trick, but for a block of ice that had the cold of the Antarctic attached to every seam that put his muscles together, this was only a bother. But then again, his daughter was still a child. It wasn't like he could swing her and fling her away like a ball that one used to play catch with a dog. "Papa!" Ghislaine giggled happily, hugging him, as the man picked her up, for in all her life she feared often that this man would necessariy drop her into a pit. After all, it wasn't like she often met him or her mother. And mother truly was out of limits because everytime she saw her she'd just squeeze the he11 out of her daughter. In hopes of k1111ng her, that is. "Ghislaine, love, why are you here?" "I wanted to meet papa!" "Go away now, Papa will keep you on the ground ok?" "No- Papa- I want to be with you-" And he did exactly that, gently putting his daughter down on the ground. This was once again, may I remind you, not a father's love towards his daughter, but the use of general knowledge that stated that five year old children were fragile and weak hearted.
Continued: And because he didn't want his "amazing lord" image ruined. It was something of a situation of a big trouble. Why wouldn't it? Well, one he had a meeting with someone, exactly right now. And exactly now was it that his daughter wanted her to pay attention to her. How was he supposed to do two things at one? "It is alright, Mr.Augustin. She's just a child after all." Ghislaine froze at the sound of this new voice. Such a warm sound, it was ethereal. This is what Autumn feels like, you know? That's the first thing that ran in her mind, like in a snap. His demeanor for anyone would feel like a soft cool touch at first sight, but it was really warm. This man who had just stepped inside the grand corridor of the manor, stared at them smiling softly with his warm brown eyes, that could send chills down ones heart. Not the "I'm cold" kind, but the oddly warm and pleasant feeling that made you want to run up to him. "Mr. Rooney, I don't think there is any need for you to-" "She's just a child. I like children." The man sat on one knee, which lay on the ground as he balanced himself, one hand holding the coat and his notebook, while the other was held out from him to her, as a way to say he wanted a handshake. Little Ghislaine stared at the man quietly, before walking up to him, staring at those warm eyes that screamed of affection like no other. It made her happy, very excited and a tad bit nervous. But when all of that was put aside, it made her excited. She walked over to him silently, staring at his hand, before letting her small one slip into this man's larger one. The size difference was huge. But what was even better was how nice and cozy this felt. She had shaken her father's hand often, but all she had felt was unloving winter freezing her fingers to ice. But this man's warm hazel brown eyes that stared into her green ones, they were calming and welcoming. "What is you name, little miss?" "My name? It's...Ghislaine Augustin!" "Ghislaine? Lady Ghislaine. What a befitting name for a lovely princess as you! Amazing! Now, I am Dr. Mattias Rooney. A doctor, who has been summoned by your father to treat your mother!" "My mother? Is she ill?" "No, no dear. She's neither ill nor healthy. She's in between. What we aim to do is to make sure that within a month, that's right, just before your birthday, your mother will be able to hug you. You see your mother is often plagued with nightmares. You know what those are right?" "Big scary dreams?" "Exactly. Big scary dreams. And they hurt your mother, so much so, that she can't look at you in the way she wants so. You needn't worry I am not a bad man. I am here to help you, and your father, and your mother." He offered her his signature smile, his blonde hair was prevented from falling on his shoulders, tied with a simple loose string that held his hair somewhat in place. Rooney. Little Ghislaine truly believed that this man had come to save her, and it was her this belief that left her speechlessly awed of the man in front of. "I- I trust you mister...n- no doctor Rooney!" "Just uncle Mattias, dear." "...Uncle Mattias!" She whispered ahppily. And Alexandre could only watch, feeling guilty because both he and Mattias knew that Mattias wasn't here to "fix" lady Maria. No he was here for far worse things, things that he'd prefer if his five year old daughter did not know. After all, he may not be the greatest father, but he did know that telling little children horrifying things could hurt their future growth, and even if he was a cold man towards his entire family, he was not a m0r0n who would be willing to ruin a younger child's life over something as trivial as a doctor's visit. Even though it was not a doctor's visit. More like a psychiatrist's visit. To figure out what to do with his wife's condition... Hah- But back then, neither he nor Ghislaine knew how their lives would change all because of a Mr.Rooney. The man who was a well known doctor from the London University of Medicine, and very well known for his countless feats as a doctor throughout his career. And there was no doubt, when a man like him came to such a faraway place in France, that was nothing like the city of fuming London, that things were about to get real bad. Regardless of whether anyone wanted them to or not. --- Now when she stared at Clark Rooney getting up from his table, she knew it was time for her to go. Mother Genevieve got up from her seat, to help Ghislaine shift into her wheel chair. An invention that Clark Rooney had spent months on buying. Not only that, it was the newest kind, one that hadn't been used before. It was heart warming to think that Clark Rooney, a man who shared the same eyes as his father, the same face but not hair, had spent so much on helping her, as he should. After all, his father had ruined her life. Not that the third son of Mattias Rooney knew that.
