Archive of Our Own

After Rouille’s assassination Arno felt obliged to return to Napoleon’s quarters and inform him of his success. After all he was the one who pointed him in Rouille’s direction.

If Arno had remembered Napoleon’s address, finding him wouldn’t have taken him half as long as it did in the end, but nevertheless, he found his house in the Învalides district. Napoleons home was, surprisingly, very huge, considering he was a military man, and that at such a young one. Arno knocked twice. No answer. What could he even be up to? An hour or so had passed since noon, he couldn’t really be asleep now.

Taking matters into his own hands, Arno scaled the building and entered through a window facing the backyard. A bit foolish to leave the window opened in such times, but who was Arno to complain.

The room which Arno was in was breathtaking. High walls, decorated with the finest wallpapers, reflecting the soft sunlight streaming in through the window. The furniture seemed to be archaic, at least two decades old. There were two seats, covered in turquois velvet, standing in the middle of the room. The walls were lined with bookshelves, Arno wondered if Napoleon had even read every single one of those books. He probably didn’t, but it was amusing to imagine him reading the latest romance novels. Arno stepped closer to the shelf and took out a bright blue book.

There was no way that Napoleon possibly read such books! One would think the reads great philosophers and thinkers, yet here he is reading amorous novels about married countesses! Arno remembered the summer he himself had gotten a hold of a copy. He couldn’t put the book down for days! Élise was worried that Arno himself was starting to turn into one of the lovestruck youths, as portrayed in the book. In some way she was right, Arno did love that novel. He chuckled to himself as he returned the book to its place. Maybe he should find Napoleon before he finds him snooping around in his library.

Arno pulled down his hood and stepped into the hallway. It couldn’t be that hard to find a man in a two-story house. Arno listened carefully, maybe he could hear Napoleon.
After standing in the hallway like a complete fool for about 30 seconds, Arno realized that maybe, he could not find out Napoleons whereabouts by listening closely. What a shame. So, he started walking down the hallway, checking every room he found, but to no avail. He was nowhere to be found! He checked the bedrooms, the library, the drawing room and even the kitchen, but it seemed as if Napoleon was not at home. Arno considered waiting here for him, but that wouldn’t have come across in a good way. Thus, he decided to go home and return later, as there was enough time today.

As he made his way to the window which he came in from, he spotted a twinkling light in the back of the garden, between bushes and trees. Maybe it is Napoleon, who knows! Cascading down the wall like a cat Arno landed on the soft grass in the garden and started strolling to the back. It was such a lovely day, maybe he should visit a park today, spend some time outdoors, Arno thought to himself.

Hidden between bushes and flowers Arno found a dozing Napoleon, stretched out on a sturdy wooden bench with a book spread out on his chest. A lovely sight which made Arno smile. As lovely as it was to see Napoleon sleep, he required his attention. To achieve this Arno spoke up, startling the sleeping figure.

“Working hard, I imagine.” He said with a mischievous grin on his face. Napoleon woke and knocked the book off his chest. He looked around to find out who dared to disturb him during his afternoon nap. It was Arno Dorian.

Napoleon didn’t know quite what to think of this mysterious man. He couldn’t pinpoint his intentions nor his qualities, but there was something quite enthralling about him, almost like a spell that draws one in. Regardless, he was delighted to see him.
Napoleon sat up and straightened his now opened coat.

“Ah, yes, as usual. Military men never rest, as you may know.” He told Arno with a slightly amused smile. What could possibly bring him here? It couldn’t be that he already sorted out things with Rouille, so maybe it was a personal visit. The thought alone made a strange warmth spread through Napoleon’s chest, though he did not know why.

“May I ask what brings you here?” Napoleon inquired. Arno answered with his usual snark. “I wanted to inform you on my success.” He said this with the utmost confidence and self-admiration, it was quite remarkable how someone could be so self-assured. Napoleon assumed it was because he never had a reason to doubt himself.

Hearing the news made Napoleon happy, now Rouille was out of his way and he didn’t need to do anything to make it so. He was grateful beyond measure!

“These are excellent news, Arno!” he proclaimed, patting him on the shoulder, like a friend might. Arno smiled at him, almost shyly. Napoleon wondered how one could be so confident yet act so bashful. He supposed it was another one of Arno’s endearing quirks. Napoleon stood up and gestured that Arno should follow. “I have a surprise for you! A reward, one might say.” This of course sparked the greatest curiosity in Arno. What might a man such as Napoleon give to him? Maybe one of his trashy novels, Arno thought and snickered.

They made their way through the evergreen garden, into the house through the back door. “How did you even find me?” Napoleon asked slightly confused, “I was practically hidden away, and I have never told you my address!” he proclaimed “Well, I have instincts.” Arno retorted, trying to forget the minute he just stood, trying to “hear” him. This response earned him a low chuckle from Napoleon. “As you say, my friend.”

They passed the library and entered Napoleon’s bedroom. It was quite messy and did not fit his personality. It was too lavish and extraordinary. The furniture here was ancient as well, decorated with golden leaves and expensive velvet. It was a mystery how and why a man such as Napoleon would even consider living here and moreover how he could afford it. Arno couldn’t imagine Napoleon living here. He himself surely, but not Napoleon, he didn’t seem to be the type.

“Wait just a second.” Napoleon instructed, as he searched through his closet. He bent down and started rummaging through his possessions. Was he about to gift Arno a coat? Or some stockings? One could never have enough of those, after all.

Napoleon returned with a medium sized box. It was blue in color and decorated with a small cockade. He held it with utmost pride, obviously pleased by himself.

“Here you are. I thought you might need one as autumn is approaching. It’s my favorite model, I hope you’ll like it too.” He handed Arno the box.
The package was surprisingly light. Arno opened it excitedly and peeked inside. It was..a hat? Yes, a bicorne. What a surprise he thought. “Thank you, it is a very nice gift.” Arno said and smiled at Napoleon, who smiled in return.

Arno put the hat back in the box and closed the lid. He tucked the package under his arm and began to speak. “Thank you very much for your gift, though I must admit it was not quite necessary. My services are usually free.” He said while smirking, which caused Napoleon to blush a bit. Regaining his composure, he retorted “Hmm, well I thought a reward would be appropriate for such a heroic task.” This, now in return, made Arno blush.

“Now, I’m afraid I must take my leave, as I have an important task to attend to, I hope you do not mind.” Arno said. Napoleon seemed a bit disappointed, however he didn’t let it show. “Yes, of course. Let me show you to the door.” He answered.

They walked down the stairs, through the decorative rooms, to the front door. Napoleon opened it for Arno, as he was preoccupied with holding the box. “If you ever find yourself in proximity to the Café Théâtre, do pay me a visit, yes? I would be very delighted.” Arno proposed. This offer delighted Napoleon visibly, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling like a schoolboy. “Of course, I will, it would be my pleasure.”

Satisfied with his answer Arno shot Napoleon a quick smile. “Until we meet again then, Monsieur Bonaparte.” He proclaimed while making his way back home.

The gift was unusual, yet not unappreciated.