by Jariel Camen
90328.1500
Soundtrack: The City of Blinding Lights, by U2
...continued from part one
-=Paris, France=-
90328.1500
Soundtrack: The City of Blinding Lights, by U2
...continued from part one
-=Paris, France=-
Camen listened, as Fleur pointed out each sight in the city. All the while he read the names of the streets. They each took turns carrying Tress, and as Tress and Pace took in the landmarks, Camen took in the look on Fleur’s face.
He knew there was sadness for her in this place, but today she was smiling, and that was they way he always wanted her to remember her home. Not as the place where boys too foolish to appreciate what they could have in such a loving woman shattered her dreams, but as the place where the man and children who adored her stood by her side as she walked these once so lonely streets.
They started with the Eiffel Tower.
“Cliché for a tour, but beautiful none the less,” Fleur said. She guided them East through the city. There was simply too much to see in one day, but she tried to show them everything she could. Every once in a while Jariel would pick out a random street to walk down, and Fleur would oblige, perfectly content to be here in the City of Lights with him.
Camen would occasionally recognize a landmark as he walked, but nothing was exactly as he remembered it. The light was brighter, the city more beautiful than he ever recalled. The company, more loving than anything he had ever felt. It was the first time Camen had truly been here in this time, with the woman he would go anywhere with.
He saw a sign that read Boulevard Saint-Germain.
“Let’s go this way,” Jariel asked, pointing down the street.
“Why not,” Fleur said. He linked arms with her, and she ceased pointing out sights, and just rested her head on his shoulder as they walked.
A young Parisian woman happened by, nodding her head slowly to Gillan Pace. “Bonjour,” She said to the young man, who was holding Tress.
“Bonjour,” He replied, in a perfect French accent.
They both spun around at each other after passing. Tress turned his head back forward with her bare hand lest he guide the both of them directly into a streetlamp.
“Such a friendly people,” Camen commented.
“Romance is in our souls, what can I say?” Fleur shrugged.
“I don’t think Pace would stay focused on his studies long with the atmosphere in this place,” Camen ran his fingers through her hair as they walked. “I know I wouldn’t.”
They came upon a building with large glass windows and a balcony above, that had long since been shuttered. He looked down the next street, Rue Saint-Benoit, and saw a man with a small cart, handing out frozen treats to passers by.
Camen pulled a few strips of latinum from his packets and handed them to Pace. “Go ahead and get some ice cream for Tress and yourself.”
“Go ahead? We are to stay behind?” Fleur asked.
As soon as Pace and Tress went ahead, Camen pulled her into the doorway of the old building on the street corner, then pulled her closer for a kiss.
“I guess you were serious about the atmosphere affecting you?” Fleur said, when he finally released her.
“I have something for you, Fleur.”
“Oh?” She asked, intrigued by what he could be doing, as he reached into his pocked and pulled out the letter he had replicated onto the stationary earlier in the day.
“I received this last night as we slept, I don’t know who it is from, but they went through me to find you. Please read it.”
Fleur unfolded the paper, and tilted it toward the waning daylight to read.
Esteemed Vedek Jariel Camen,
I am writing you in hopes that you are still in the company of one Fleur Le Marc. News travels fast on Bajor when a member of the Order has fallen in love, as you are well aware. I am sorry for the intrusion into what I am suer is a busy schedule but I had to write in an attempt to find you both.
Fleur was one of the sweetest young ladies I ever had the pleasure to meet. I know what a good man you are, and I sincerely hope your heart wishes to love hers as I have heard. She deserves a Pagh like yours watching over her, even if she may not believe it.
When I heard also of everything she had done for the people of The Plains, I began looking into her past to see how it was I could thank her. I thought, what could be better than a gift of something that combines her love of bakery with her love of Bajor?
So, at the corner of Boulevard Saint-Germain and Rue Saint-Benoit in Paris, you will find an old property of mine, which was a Café long ago. I am too old now to handle the responsibility of selling it or rehabilitating it. I wish very much for Fleur to have this place as her own. I will forward you the money needed to rebuild, in any way that you wish.
Fleur lowered the letter and shook her head. “Oh, I cannot accept this. I have you to care for, and Tress and Pace. I cannot possibly run this Café, and besides, the money should be sent to the people of Bajor.”
“I’ve already called an architect as well as a historian familiar with the past of this Café, and asked them to begin submitting plans for the interior,” Camen replied. “As for the money, I’ve arranged for all the profits to go directly to Bajor. Please read on.”
Fleur turned her attention back to the letter.
I know Vedek Jariel that you have a life in a Federation aboard a Starship, so I’ve included enough money for you to hire a full staff, to run the Café in your absence. As long as I know the ownership is in your hands, I can be sure the property will be well cared for, all I ask is that the profits be sent back to Bajor for the people. And when you do have a chance to visit, or if you wish to stay, there is an apartment above the Café that is yours as well.
The balcony is trimmed with planters, which I am sure will please the Vedek, given his love of flora. The code for the front door is 376824.
There is just one more thing to tell you. In the apartment is a gift for Fleur. I simply could not part with it, because I knew whom it belonged to.
I sincerely hope, Vedek Jariel, you can get these messages to Fleur.
~MB
Fleur lowered the papers slowly.
“Any idea who this is?” Jariel asked.
“Madame Brézé.” Fleur’s eyes clouded with tears.
“So you know her?”
“Yes, yes. It has been so many years. I was only a child.”
“You can tell me all about it. Let’s go inside.” Camen tapped the code into the door, and opened it for Fleur.
The inside was dusty, and dark with the windows still shuttered. Soon however, Camen would see to it this place was alive again serving bakery to the people of Paris, and precious aid to the people of Bajor, just as Fleur and Madame Brézé wished.
He led her up the rear stairway to the apartment. There were bedrooms for themselves and the children, a living room, bathrooms with old running water fixtures, that needed some elbow grease, but were simply too beautiful to be parted with.
In the center of the living a room, a large blanket covered the only item in the room. Camen carefully rolled the blanket up so as to not scatter the dust that had settled upon it. As he rolled it over the top, Fleur knew immediately what it was.
“The dollhouse. Madame’s house.”
She touched the miniature furniture pieces, which were still in perfect condition, having been preserved here in this place for years. Camen found a note attached, laying on the tiny bed in the dollhouse. He read it out loud.
Fleur,
I hope this finds its way back to you someday. That day I intended to sell it I could not, so I bid for it on my own so I could keep it.
All my love,
Élise Brézé
“Tress is going to love it when she is older. Camen, can we bring this to the ship, to keep in our quarters?”
“Of course, I see no reason why not. So are you happy?”
“I am speechless. But are you happy? What about Bajor?”
“We will always have Bajor, but Fleur, you are a part of me now. You hold my heart, and this is your home, so it is mine as well. I want, and I need for us to always be connected to this place. In many ways I will always be the Vedek there as well. Here, with you, I will always have a safe place to just be Jariel Camen.”
“Then if you wish to build a home here as well, it will be done,” Fleur said. “We should probably make sure Pace is not getting lost trying to find us.”
Camen led her down the stairs, and back towards the entrance hand in hand. Just before he stepped outside, he pulled her to a stop.
“Fleur, there was one other thing, before we go.”
“What more could there possibly be?” Fleur laughed. “Madame has already given us a home in Paris, a Café, the dollhouse I fell in love with when I was a little girl.”
Camen reached into his pocket again, turning to the side so she could not see what he was doing. “No no,” he corrected. “This is not from Madame Brézé.”
He turned back towards her, holding the wooden betrothal bracelet he had held onto all his life, until the right moment. Fleur froze, her eyes fixed on his left hand. She was completely paralyzed, save for her heart, which was suddenly beating wildly.
“Fleur,” Camen said, guiding the bracelet onto her right wrist. “Marry me.”
***************
Jariel Camen
Ship’s Chaplain
USS Serendipity NCC-2012
Jariel Camen
Ship’s Chaplain
USS Serendipity NCC-2012