Mama met Papa as he worked in the fields of our home, tending the grapes in the old ways, with his hands and his own heart's blood. He was a seasonal worker newly brought over in the retinue with the Countess de Rochefort from her far off Island home; but we, the LaGardes, had been tied to that part of France for as long as Grampere could remember.
After I was born, Maman moved away to Paris quite against Grandpere's wishes, and my Papa's heart broke more than a little I think, to see her leave the fields and vineyards for the concrete and closed in spaces. But Mama had great skill with needle and thread and wanted so badly to be a famous dress maker for the movie stars that passed through the great city; and Papa as always wished only to indulge her dream.
Later on, his heart broke again, as did my own when Maman sent for me to come to her, to learn what she knew; she and the designers and artists she surrounded herself with. However, even she had to give me up when I reached the edge of puberty, and was about to enter womanhood. The Comtesse herself sent word that I was to return home, and my time in Paris with my Maman was at an end. And that is when my true schooling began.
When the war came, Papa left my grandpere and I to join the l'Armee, and I've not heard from him since. My maman sent me two letters from Paris and no more. Yet still do I pray for them both every night, just as I silently pray for the war to be over.
For a while I lived with my Grandpere who was the head gardener and caretaker of the lands and vineyards around the centuries old French Chateaux. He said I had a gift for growing things, a gift for bringing life to seed and bud and blossom like all women of our family. More so than even my papa who I watched make miracles with his bared hands.
On my mothers' side I obtained a gift as well it seems, a gift of a darker sort from a heritage that goes all the way back to my ancestress, Marie Legarde. She was rumored to be a witch and consort with devils. She of whom it is said could speak with the dead. She is another story, a sad one. But her story is not mine.
But if what Grandpere says is true, that they are gifts and not some curse upon me? Why do I still see my Grandmama's ghost, wandering our small home, sitting in her rocker and looking out at the stars at night? Why do I see the shadows of our soldiers, marching back from a war they'd lost when their lives were taken? And why in that house do I hear heavy footsteps where no one treads? Why do I feel the cold chills down my back in the sunny library; and why oh why do I feel a presence, dark and forbidding in the halls and ancient rooms of Chateaux De Rochefort?
Name: Amarante Legarde
Fandom: OC; Historical/Mythological
PB: Laetitia Casta
Gem: Amber or petrified wood
Primary Language: French
Secondary Languages: Latin, Greek, German, Italian, English.
Groundskeeper, gardener, family healer, priestess, protege and foremost assistant (in all things magical and mundane) to the Countess de Rochefort, close companion to Caroline and Joselyn de Rochefort
As assistant to the Countess de Rochefort, Amarante will answer doors and fetch and carry, pour tea and serve guests, and accompany the Countess on her shopping, her business meetings etc; leading people to believe that Amarante is simply a maid/lady in waiting or that she's one of the many house servants. In actuality she is Faelyn's protege, and sometimes her extra 'eye's and ears', discussing plans and situations with her mentor far into the night after the guests have gone.
5 ft 8, 135 lbs, with light brown hair and blue eyes, she is too curvy to be slender and wears a size six dress. She is light on her feet, quick and agile with a low, melodic voice. She has talent with writing, and has been trained in singing and both the harp and piano.
Her ability to see and converse with the dead is something she'd been born with, something she grew up with. It was this same ability that her ancestress, Madame Marie Legarde had been tortured and burned at the stake hundreds of years ago for doing. Marie Legarde who was burned as a heretic because no matter what they did to her, she had the resolve and would not to confess to witchcraft. In time her legend expanded and she became either a bogeyman-type monster or a saint, depending on who told the tale. Madame Marie also became well known as a character in a children's rhyme in the village and outlying areas where Amarante grew up.
Everything else she gets comes from her father's bloodline. Amarante has the ability to hear, to talk to plants, to learn their secrets of healing and harm straight from the essence of the plant itself. As well, it is within her blood to be able to heal poisoned or wounded plants or patches of earth; earth that has been damaged by chemicals or sewn with salt. She frequently travel the forests unharmed or hindered by wildlife there, because she has more the 'feel' of a young tree or flower; and seems less an animal, even to the more ferocious of wild animals themselves. She is simply accepted as part of the norm; and ignored or accepted as a natural part of the forest.
"... I've worries and pains enough with the women of my own family, Jareth. I need not go searching for one who is trying so desperately hard not to be found." - Comte de Rochefort
Inglourious Basterds = Out of Print
World Under Siege
Amarante LeGarde: Sun Not Shadows
The Fortunate Isle
Comte Sebastien G de Rochefort
Jocelyn de Rochefort
Colonel Hans Landa
Caroline de Rochefort
Poignant and lovely! Such a deep & mysterious connection!
Oct 23, 2014 01:02 amBEAUTIFUL!!!
Sep 23, 2014 06:46 amBeautiful, fair maiden! I can't wait to read more!
May 28, 2014 06:19 amSuch beautiful, tragic detail about a horrifc time in history. Well, done!
Sep 16, 2012 06:45 pmFor great skill with a needle and thread, and knowing when to duck out.
Apr 25, 2010 02:32 pm