Chapter Text
Despite the stressful previous day, the foster parents seemed to be in a good mood this morning and no child received any type of punishment.
The reason was that Clorinde was a successful deal. She filled their pockets more than usual, as her new mother asked them to “pretend they didn't see her obviously fake documents” and that “they wouldn't go looking for her, ever”.
The orphanage had its fame, and it also had a certain price for everything.
Wriothesley was leaning on the door frame of the room Clorinde shared with three other girls, watching as she finished packing.
-”She seems scary.”
-”Who?”
-”Your mother.”
-”Why is that? Pitty you say that, I was gonna convince her of adopting you too.”
-”Did you see the bloody sword she carried? That didn't look like a normal sword.”
-”I did. She saved you from a beating so maybe she's less evil than Monsieur?”
-"One can only hope.”
She packed the small suitcase as if her five changes of clothes, the broken Subdetection Unit, the red yarn string of fate with a knot on each side and a jar of seashells were the biggest treasures in the world. Not a single toy, as no toy was a personal toy in that place.
Maybe that's why Wriothesley was so keen on finally finding a Subdetection Unit in the wild and breaking it, as no child would be interested in a broken thing and it could finally be theirs . Or the seashells.
Breakfast was surprisingly silent. They were tired, and some had the sadness of a sister leaving clear in their eyes. At least they had the opportunity to say goodbye, a rare occasion in that place.
Wriothesley sat across Clorinde. He didn't speak during breakfast, just glanced at her once in a while, waiting for her to speak but the girl wasn't known to be a talker.
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Clorinde was ordered to sit and wait in the living room in her most presentable clothes and the ponytail so low and tight it made her head hurt. The foster parents with her, waiting for the front door bell to ring.
-"What are you doing here Wriothesley? Go back to the kitchen.” - Monsieur had little patience in his voice because it was a known rule in the house that during the adoption exchange, the other children couldn't be around to avoid any type of commotion.
-”I just came to say goodbye.”
-”Argh, it's not like she will die you know?” - Mother spoke.
The boy paid no attention to them. He walked towards the couch and Clorinde stood up to meet him with a hug.
-”I will miss you.” - Wriothesley's throat tightened up but he was not letting the cry come out.
-”So will I, but we will meet again. Please don't go stealing coins alone.”
-”Enough. Back to your tasks Wriothesley.” - The unbearable rispid voice cut them short.
They exchanged a last glance with the small curl of smiles before Wriothesley made his way back to the breakfast cleaning crew in the kitchen. He kept his full attention on whatever sounds until he heard the doorbell and spied the living room through the keyhole.
He couldn't see her fully but here she was: the tall woman wearing a black cloak. She shook Clorinde's hand as if she was dealing with a small adult.
-"I already know you Clorinde, so let me introduce myself. My name is Petronilla.”
-”Enchantée Mademoiselle.” - Clorinde did a small bow. Her voice, so low and shy, matched her down and curled shoulders.
-”So I trust everything is ready for you to come with me?”
-”Just one last signature here and here mademoiselle.” - Monsieur gave Petronilla a clipboard with papers.
An awkward silence followed, Petronilla was waiting on some sort of action from Clorinde but she was mindlessly looking at the door frame.
-”So we're good to go?” - Petronilla said towards the foster parents.
-”Yes mademoiselle, I wish the both of you much happiness. And remember, we don't take defective products back haha.” - Of course Monsieur had to be disgusting.
Petronilla forced a smile.
-"Come, Clorinde.” - The woman extended her hand for Clorinde to grab. -"Won't you tell them goodbye?”
-”Goodbye Monsieur, thank you for taking care of me through all these years.” - The trained artificial politeness as clear as day.
My little artwork for this moment: https://x.com/A__Sakurai/status/1815861530384089543
They made their way towards the exit. When they crossed the door frame, Clorinde turned her head as much as she could to give a last look towards the kitchen door.
Something about the whole thing left a feeling of disgust on Wriothesley's skin. That seemed so artificial and mechanical, he was expecting the meeting of the forever family to be…warmer? Happier? Noisier? And what did Monsieur mean about defective products? Was Clorinde sold? That was one of his strongest memories about something terribly wrong going on at that place.
The duo of mother and daughter made their way to the shore by the countryside. Clorinde remembered the words she's been trained to say when the big day of adoption happened:
-”Thank you for choosing me, mother. I will behave, and I promise to love you.”
-”Please don't call me mother. The way to address me is calling me Master. And…you don't need to actually like me but yes, I will need you to behave and obey me.”
Clorinde was too young to understand any of this, but the feeling that a wall had already been built between them was clear, she just couldn't organize it in thoughts. What does it mean that she was adopted but she still didn't have a mother?
They were going towards a small pier, where a boat was waiting for them.
-”So we won't live in the main island?” -
-”No, we will live in Poisson.” - The woman said as they boarded the boat, only the conductor was the other person in it.
Clorinde knew the route to that side of Fontaine due to the many times she went to the Fountain of Lucine to steal coins.
-”But there's the aquabus to Poisson you know?”
-”Ha, how smart. I'd rather not be out and about in the city though, we'd need to go there to board through the main station. Let's give preference to the scenic routes from now on, shall we? Do you like nature?”
-"I do, Master.”
-”Good, you'll love where we'll live. Thank you for waiting, Marcel.” - The woman gave a pouch of mora to the man.
They were silent for the entire trip and the boat stopped in the south of the island. They had to walk among the thick forest of cypress wood until they saw a house hiding in there, far from whatever human trail. Coming into the clearance of the small house, a rich but messy garden looked like infested with weeds but the truth was that those were plants Clorinde had never seen. The chimney had smoke coming out of it.
Petronilla grabbed a strange looking tool and inserted it at the edge of the door frame to unlock it, even though the doorknob and the keyhole looked perfectly fine.
So those were fake? Merely disguises to distract from the real lock?
-”I will order one of these for you, I don't plan to keep you locked.”
They entered the house and it was clean but messy. Lots of books and kitchenware scattered around, the walls covered with notes, maps, photos, blades, crossbows and swords, the shiny and richly engraved gramophone looked out of place there, the fireplace had a boar's leg in it, being turned over and over by a small machine.
-”Lunch will be ready soon. Your room is upstairs, you can put away your stuff in the wardrobe while I finish the salad.”
The girl looked up and there were no stairs, but a ladder to the attic that had no walls. She struggled to go up on one hand carrying a suitcase in the other but did so anyway, with Petronilla attentively observing through the corner of her eyes.
As she finished undoing her suitcase, Clorinde stared through the small round window over her bed, a view to nothing but the woods, until she heard the woman call on her.
Her place at the table had a bowl of salad on it already.
-”Always eat the salad first, but I believe they taught you this at the orphanage?”
-”No.”
-”I wonder what else they didn't didn't teach you there.” - Sigh. - “Can you cook?”
-”No.”
-”Well, I wanted an older girl thinking you'd have some sort of independence but it didn't cross my mind they'd lie to me.”
The thought of having already disappointed her new mom crossed Clorinde like an arrow to the knee, even though this was based on the foster parent's lies.
-”I will learn.” - Dear reader, Clorinde would never learn how to properly cook anything.
-”But you write and read, do math, know your way through the city and run pretty fast, can't you?”
-”Yes.”
-”Well, those are the most important things. Heard you can punch pretty hard too?”
-"Wh-hat?” - To let the potential parents know of the “undesirable” traits of the children was a no-no, but it seems like Petronilla already knew of hers.
-”You know, when I first visited the place and stated the age and traits I was looking for in a girl, they mentioned your name, and a girl passing by said Oh no miss you don't want the rabid seagull , and I thought that was pretty funny. So despite Monsieur and his wife's desperate faces I asked the girl what was the story behind that.” - Petronilla finished with a laugh but Clorinde seemed to be internally exploding remembering the day she got that nickname.
-”Oh no Miss, I mean Master please believe me, I'm quiet and well behaved but sometimes I have to act.”
-”Yeah that's what they told me.” - Petronilla kept her mouth shut to not laugh while eating.
The story was that a girl around Clorinde's age stole the doll of a younger one who had just been left there, so Clorinde got the doll back but not before breaking one of the girl's tooth, pushing her head on the edge of a table.
-”You know what Clorinde? Smart move because I don't think your hands alone could have broken a tooth…yet. You're still quite scrawny. The use of a surface is always advisable.”
That confused the girl to no end because as she remembers it, the punishment was not pretty and was almost a tooth for a tooth, but now she was being praised for it and even advised.
Petronilla poured some juice on the girl's cup as she continued:
-"I usually don't apply unnecessary force if the matter has been resolved, but because you saw an unfair situation and defended someone weaker, well, I'll let that pass.”
-"I'm sorry Master, but what's this?” - Clorinde said after finishing her sip.
-”Pomegranate. Why? You never tasted it?”
-”No.”
-”What did you eat at the orphanage?”
-”Bread, fish, bulle fruit mostly. I can't stand fish anymore.”
-”Ah yes, the cheapest and most abundant in Fontaine… Don't worry about fish, there will be plenty of red meat here. You know Clorinde, I saved you from some very bad people, and I wonder how bad they treated you there.”
-”I didn't see the belt that often, Master, as I was mostly quiet and well behaved and finished all of my tasks. But the rest there…” - She wanted Petronilla to really, really, really believe she had nothing to worry about her being a badly behaved child, and the woman couldn't help but notice how her eyes traveled far beyond that tiny house when she finished her sentence, as if there was much to talk about.
-”Considering my research, you will have a better life here, this I'm sure of. I mean, look at the food.” - The woman cut a chunk of the boar's leg and placed it on Clorinde's plate.
Red meat was indeed rare at the orphanage “because it's expensive” as Monsieur used to say. Remembering that phrase and looking at Petronilla's extensive weapon collection on her walls, the fur around her cape and the leather on her clothes, Clorinde got curious:
-"What do you do, Master? Like, your job?”
-"I'm a hunter.”
-”You hunt what?”
-”Anything that moves and anything I'll get paid for.”
-”So you hunt this boar?”
-”Yes, yesterday, in preparation for your arrival.”
-"And you use those weapons for such?”
-”Yes.”
-”Whoah that's cool.” - This was Clorinde's first smile to Petronilla.
-”You're in luck because passing forward everything I know is my current main goal in life. You'll use them too, and hunt anything you want too.”
Clorinde was chewing on a way too big piece of meat to speak, and did some effort to keep her lips sealed from the smile of knowing she was about to be as cool as her master.
They finished their food and Petronilla asked Clorinde to do the dishes while she “fetched someone from Poisson's cave” and of course Clorinde waited a while after she was gone to try to open the only other room in that small house, and of course it was locked: it must be Petronilla's room. It wasn't long until she was back with a middle aged woman.
-”So this is the little lady, Miss Petronilla? Nice to meet you, I'm Bernadette.” - The woman extended one hand towards Clorinde while the other she used to adjust her glasses on the tip of her nose.
-"She's here to take your measurements so we can get your new clothes.”
-”And what about you Miss, when will you order new clothes for you?” - The tailor began her work with a sewing tape around the girl.
-”You know how I don't care about this stuff and wait until it literally starts to fall apart to get new ones but yes, I will need new boots pretty soon. Oh and I want hers to be like mine, with that extra compartment and all.”
-"She's pretty tall for her age, she's at the Boss's daughter's height, who's older, and ordered some magnificent dresses not too long ago due to a growth spur. What about dresses Miss, you didn't mention any?”
-”I believe those won't be necessary. And talking about height, how fast do they grow, Bernadette? How long will these clothes last? Six months? Three years? What are these growth spurs?”
-”You don't know how fast they grow, Miss?”
-”...no?”
-”Oh well.” - The older woman took a deep breath.” - “I can add some extra fabric so they last from a year and a half to two years, considering there's a lot of leather. And why the leather braces for the knees and elbows, if I may ask, Miss?”
-”I just want her to have all the freedom to play without getting hurt, Miss.”
-"You're already a very thoughtful mother, Miss Petronilla.”
Clorinde looked up at Petronilla but couldn't decipher her expression and the small smirk.
The tailor finished her job while Petronilla wrote the list of items she was ordering, disappeared into her room and came back with a pouch of mora.
-"Here's half of the payment. And these.” - Along with the mora she also gave the woman a basket full of cured leather and pelts.
-”It will take me a month, that's an entirely new wardrobe I hope you understand.”
-”Absolutely, what she has now will do, thank you. And oh, don't forget what I told you about being quiet I have a child now.”
-”Hmmm…Boss already knows you adopted a child, I fear.”
-”That devil…Anyways, he has no reason to spread the word, unless someone is buying information on how to get me.”
-”Trust that having his own daughter will make him never do such thing, Miss Petronilla. He doesn't buy your services anymore? I haven't seen you around it's been a while.”
-"That's none of your business. Have a good day, Bernadette.” - Petronilla opened the door as a sign it was time for the woman to leave.
-”So you have a boss?” - Clorinde didn't wait a second after the door closed to speak.
-”Not really, I have no boss, he's just someone who orders hunting once in a while. But you could say he's everyone's boss on this island.”
-”And what does he orders? Boars too?”
-”No, people.”
-”WHAT?”
-”Joking. And talking about leather let's start the treatment for this boar's pelt, shall we? It's one of the things you gotta learn. Outside.”
That's how they spent the rest of the afternoon, on some poor boar's skin until dinner and before sending Clorinde to bed Petronilla gave her a book:
-"You'll read this every night before sleep, and re read it again after you finish, and re read again, and again, until you know all the words by memory. The most important thing to me, and the most important thing I have to give you.”
Clorinde grabbed the book with its richly crafted blue leather cover and golden engravings where “The Marechaussee Hunters” was written.
-”Thank you for the gift, Master. I'll do my best.”
-”I hope so. Good night.” - The woman left for her room displaying the dryness of a roommate instead of a mother.
Clorinde managed 3 pages before falling into the slumber of an emotionally exhausting day, the anxiousness of leaving the only home she knew and meeting the new one, being nervous about absolutely everything and the hypervigilance turned on its max settings.
…just to be woken up by the loud thunder and lightning very close to their house. It was quite the angry storm.
She sat on her bed to look outside and could see absolutely nothing, just more lighting.
And no sibling to share their fears and screams with, no bunk bed to build their forts under, no teddy bear to hug. She tried to be brave for as long as she could, with her hands covering her ears due to the loud noises but couldn't hold for much long before going down the ladder in a hurry.
-”Master! Master! Open the door please!”
Petronilla was ridiculously fast:
-”What?”
-”Can I, uhhh, stay here?”
-”Why?”
-"I'm afraid.”
-"You're afraid of LIGHTNING?”
-”I'm afraid of being alone.” - She lowered her head.
-”Fine.” - Sigh. - “There will be far more work than I expected.” - The woman said turning around and speaking quietly to herself.
It was just a split second but Clorinde could see her hiding a dagger under her pillow as she pulled it to her side on the other side of the bed.
-"This is the first time I will let you stay but also the last. It's just lighting you know, there's nothing to be afraid of.” - They cozied up under Petronilla's fur blanket, much heavier than the one she gave to Clorinde.
-"What if it hits the house?”
-”We will fix it, or find another one. And you know that being here downstairs will not stop such thing from happening, right? If the lightning wants to hit this house, it will. It's the strength to rebuild, or the flexibility of moving around in life what will actually make a difference in this scenario. You need to be braver than this.”
-"I'm sorry Master, I will. I just miss my siblings.”
-”Hate to say it, but I'm no child. Anyways, a way of not being afraid of lightning is thinking that's just new life.”
-”New life?”
-"Yes, you don't know the myth?”
-”No.”
-”For Archons what goes on in that freaking orphanage.” - Petronilla rubbed her face. - “Well, legend says when this planet was nothing but mostly water, much of that frozen, life was brought here through millions of lightning in a terrible storm, and in Fontaine of all places.”
-"Oh?”
-”Yeah you see? You can lose fear of thunder when you think of it as just new life. And there's some truth to it. The plants will all look better tomorrow, the air lighter, mushrooms will sprout like crazy in the woods.”
It was a few minutes before Petronilla looked to the side to see Clorinde's eyes still watery just like when she first knocked on the door.
-”Please sleep, I hope we can start your trainment tomorrow.”
-”Trainment for what?”
-"You'll see.” - The woman turned to the side and went back to sleep immediately.
-”New life then.”
It wasn't until the storm stopped that Clorinde could finally close her eyes again.