#The French Noble

[chioneeirwen]

Stone and Steel

The brisk morning air grazed Chione’s face, her window slightly ajar. Sunshine poured into her chambers in a warm glow; sky-colored eyes fluttered open as the sun shone, the sun earning a squint from her features in return. She rose out of bed with a grunt accompanied by a stretch and headed to her washroom. Entering the threshold, she reached her vanity and looked into the mirror, a sigh leaving her lips. She leaned down and turned the water on, splashing some cool water onto her skin to relieve herself from grogginess. Turning towards her shower, she turned the nozzles to the perfect temperature. Chione removed the tightly wrapped braid from its wrap and loosened her wavy hair from its interlacing pieces. As she watched steam envelop her washroom, she disrobed, stepped into the warmth of her shower, and became engulfed in hot water. She cleansed her body and freshened up her hair. Chione then turned the nozzles off, the hot water ceasing to touch her skin as the showerhead no longer rained water. She wrapped her silk robe around her glistening body, reentered her chambers, and briskly walked towards her wardrobe. 

Today was a meeting day with Baurendouin Haillenarte to discuss business and commerce. So she had to dress for the occasion. She diligently dug through her disheveled wardrobe to find her favorite rouge-hued corset and a pair of black pants. Soon enough, she had found the articles of clothing and began dressing herself before summoning her maid, Teagan, to help tie her corset strings. Once tightened, secured, and knotted in the back, she thanked Teagen and dismissed her while she found ankle-high-heeled boots and pulled them over her feet. Finding a sheer black long-sleeve fitted top, she tied the outfit together. With nimble fingers, she tied her long, light-colored hair into an updo, keeping her bangs from her eyes. Leaving her room, taking significant strides down the candlelit hallway, her mother, Cora, greeted her as she swiftly entered the main hall.

“Good morning, my dear. Did you sleep well last night?” Cora asked her busy daughter as she watched her get things together from the reading nook just inside the library, busily moving throughout the halls for items she may need for Baurendouin. 

“Good morning, Mother. I’m alright. I'm just running behind on my meeting with Baurendouin. Trying to produce more steel and have our miners build more homes in the Empyreum, and by the Twelve trying to help rebuild things is difficult when Father isn’t here to help.” Chione huffs in annoyance as she finishes gathering the rest of her things and placing them all into a leather-stitched satchel. Grabbing her heavy cloak, she draped it over her shoulders, grabbed the bag, and hung it over her left shoulder. Turning around, she walked to her mother with vigor and quickly pecked her cheek. 

“Goodbye, Mother, I’ll be back later! Hopefully, Father doesn’t miss this meeting.” Chione quips as she grabs the door handle.

“I’m sure your father will make it. Goodbye, dear. See you tonight!” Cora calls, turning back to her tea and romance novel as Chione leaves the mansion, her white cloak pulled close to her neck, blocking out the winter air– a hood over her head to keep the nipping cold, sharp air off her rose-hued cheeks. Chione began her short and quiet trek from the Eirwen Estate to Skysteel Manufactory.

Eventually, she entered the busier part of Ishgard. Looking around the Brume, seeing it still in disarray, it warms her heart to see all these men and women working to rebuild the home they love and cherish. With a slight smile, she continued her walk to Skysteel Manufactory. Her heels clicked against the cold cobblestone as she continued her walk, pulling her fur-lined hood closer to cover her neck and cheeks before approaching the landing to enter the factory. Approaching the threshold, she pushes the doors open to see the steam engines working hard, and the smell of burning coals kisses her wind-chilled nose. Taking a deep breath, inhaling the scent of coal, she verbally exhaled and went to her office to await Baurendouin and, hopefully, her father. Discarding her cloak, she places it on the coat rack by her office door. Brushing snow off her face, she walked to a trolley and reached for a glass bottle filled with red wine. Nimble fingers reached for a wine glass, turning it over before pouring some of the crimson liquid into the glass. With her foot under her heel, she turned, made her way to her desk, and sat down, raising the crystal container to her nude lips and taking a sip. The red liquid slightly staining her lower lip. 

Placing the chalice off to the side, she reached for a small stack of papers that someone had delivered to her office prior to her arrival. Scanning the first page, she read over the night shift’s foreman’s documents and everything the workers had done. Seeing that the numbers matched what needed to be done, she placed the papers back in their original order, set a paperclip onto the pages, and put the bundle into a filing cabinet. Sighing, she sat back in her tall wooden chair and placed her forearm on her desk, her fingernails gently rapping against the wood. Chione knew she was early. Her mother had raised her always to arrive early. Eventually, her ears perked up to hear the familiar voice of her father, Beau. Chione sat straight in her chair and waited patiently for her father to enter her office. 

Hearing the handle to Chione’s office tinker and clank, she raised her head as her father entered the office, his heavy linen coat draped over his right forearm. A smile tugged at Chione’s mouth, the corners revealing dimples she had inherited from her mother. 

“Good morning, Father.” Chione addressed him as she stood and gave a slight bow. Beau turned to face his daughter with a smile as he placed his coat on one of the empty hooks on the rack, his hat set to dry at the very point of the stand. Her father closed the door behind him.

“And here I thought you would miss this meeting as well.” Chione chirped with a smirk as she came from behind her desk to embrace her father. Beau laughed as he returned his daughter’s embrace. 

“As busy as other business with the Knights is, this is like a nice early morning walk, and I was eager to see what Baurendouin had to share with us. How did last night go?” he asked as he sat in one of the chairs before Chione’s massive desk. 

“Last night, according to the foreman, went smoothly. Everything was correctly completed, and there were zero incidents.” Chione replied to her father’s question as he stood, went to the trolley, and poured himself a glass of bourbon with ice. Raising the crystal rock glass, he nodded as he swallowed the amber liquid. 

“That’s good to hear. Hopefully, we can speak to traders overseas soon to broaden our horizons in commerce.” Beau replied to Chione as he sat back down in the tall wooden chair before her desk. Index finger rapping the glass as they waited. Maybe 15 minutes had passed, and Baurendouin finally entered Chione’s office. 

“Sorry for my delay, my Lord and Lady. My children needed my assistance with something at home.” Baurendouin stated as he removed his coat from his person and hung it among the others that took residence on the coat rack.

“Nothing to apologize for, Lord Haillenarte. I completely understand how children can be.” He said with jest, peering over to look at his daughter. Chione huffed a breath and shook her head. 

“It’s quite alright, my Lord. I hope everything has been taken care of at home,” Chione says with a simpered smile evident across her face. Now, what would you like to discuss with us, Baurendouin?” Beau asks, turning in his chair to get comfortable, cutting in to complete the statement. Leaning back, her back touching the plush cushions nailed to the chair, Chione kept her attention on Baurendouin. 

“AH, yes. Uh- sorry about that. Let's get to the business end of this discussion. Well… Actually, I wanted to talk about hiring… More people?” Baurendouin requested with a nervous chuckle leaving his lips. Chione sat up in her chair with a furrowed brow aimed towards the nervous Elezen, Beau turning in the chair to look at him as well with a mirrored expression from his daughter. 

“And might I ask where the last 50 men we hired went? I can't imagine all of them vanishing into thin air.” Chione responded in a concerned yet annoyed tone. Baurendouin fidgeted with the rings on his fingers before running to the trolley of alcohol stationed in the corner of Chione’s office. With shaky, calloused hands, he reached for a crystal decanter and the bottle of bourbon that Beau had opened upon his arrival. Pouring the amber liquid into the glass and adding ice from the bucket on the second shelf, Baurendouin turned to meet the two faces, awaiting a justified response. He took a hefty swallow from the glass before sighing and thinking about how to answer Chione’s question. 

“Uhm… We aren't exactly sure WHAT happened to the workers. We sent them out to Falcon's Nest to mine there and bring back ore and stone, but when a leading officer from Lord Eirwen's barracks went to pick them up, they were nowhere to be found. I've asked the guards in Falcon's Nest for answers or if anyone had come across corpses whilst delivering trade goods to Tailfeather… and they had no answers for me or didn't bother to answer me.” Baurendouin responded in kind as he walked to the other empty seat in front of Chione’s wooden desk. 

Beau sighed heavily, “And who, by chance, was supposedly watching and protecting these men while they mined?” He retorted, frustration evident across the Lord's features. The Elezen turned his attention to Beau and sighed. “I can't remember his name, M’Lord. I'm truly sorry that I don't have that information for you.” Baurendouin whimpered with another sad sigh, leaving his thin lips. Chione rubbed her temple in frustration, her back colliding softly with the cushion behind her back, elbow bent to meet her face where her hand rested firmly against high cheekbones. 

“So what are you proposing we do, Lord Baurendouin? We can't just start looking for new hirable men and women. Many of them will ask what happened and why you need more bodies. I can find someone to look into the disappearances, but for right now, you need to focus on the facility and make sure that the Machinists get their shipments of weapons. They're going to need them. Same with our Dragoons and Temple Knights. You got me?” Chione demanded with poise, her baby blues scanning Baurendouin's features intently. The tall Elezen nodded vigorously before taking another large swig from the decanter. Beau surveyed their interaction, having been impressed with Chione’s leadership and management in the Skysteel Manufactory. 

“I am in agreement with Lady Chione. Is there anything else that we need to know about Lord Haillenarte?” Beau questioned, his rough fingers rapping gently against the crystal glass grasped firmly in his hands. 

“No, my Lord and Lady. And again, I am truly sorry to spring this onto you with such short notice.” He expressed with a reflective tone. 

“It is quite alright, but if it's urgent, please send word via letter to the Eirwen Estate,” Beau replied curtly before emptying the glass sitting in his tight grip. Chione reached for her glass and took a hefty swig from the chalice, a sigh escaping through her nose as she swallowed the crimson liquid, the warmth of the alcohol blanketing her liver like a warm embrace. 

“You are dismissed, my Lord,” Chione nodded. Baurendouin finished his glass and stood, leaving the now empty decanter on her wooden desk. Approaching the coat rack, he grabbed his dark blue coat and threw it onto his shoulders before buttoning the few buttons stitched into the fabric. With one more glance towards the pair of nobles, he bowed and left the office. 

Chione’s posture softened, her back relaxed into her oversized oak chair, and a hefty sigh escaped her lips. Soft hands reached to her temples and lightly massaged the skin. “I don’t know what to do with him anymore, Father. The man is just not fit to run something like this if he’s always nervous and looking petrified upon receiving criticism. Beau chuckled at his daughter’s mannerisms as he stood and grabbed Lord Haillenarte’s glass, plus his own, and walked to the small kitchenette in the warmest section of her office. Turning the nozzle, he cleaned the decanters and dried them before placing them back onto the trolley they sat on. With a sigh and a hum, Beau directed his attention back to the blonde sitting back in her chair.  “What’s done is done, my dear. My only question is, who will you contact to help investigate the disappearances?” His eyebrow arched in question. Chione peeled her gaze from her chalice over to her father’s blue eyes. She pondered a bit, the thought now hitting her like a herd of hungry chocobos. An exasperated sigh left her petite frame, and she shook her head as she leaned in towards the crevice of her desk, elbows bending as her hands landed on the desk with a light thud.

“I haven’t figured that out quite yet, but I’m sure that I could make some “friends” for the time being,” Chione conveyed to her father with a look of determination, “I’ve got this handled, Father; you continue training new knights. The problem at hand will be handled accordingly.” Chione finished with a satisfactory smile playing across her cheeks. Beau nodded, approached the coat rack, and reached for his heavy crimson jacket. Grabbing his hat as well, he watched as Chione strolled over to the coat rack as well and, with nimble fingers, reached for the heavy white cloak that hung on the hook and draped it over her petite frame, pulling the fur-lined hood over her sun-kissed hair.

“Shall we head home? I fear we’ve spent too much of our day in this meeting. I think it’s time for us Eirwen’s to turn in for the evening.” Beau boomed with a massive smile on his face. Chione nodded in agreement, “Yes, the hell I am. I'm going to need another shower by the time we leave because that coal smell is just wafting into this office all the time.” Chione puffed in annoyance as Beau reached for the door handle leading out onto the main floor. With heavy strides, the two left the factory full of jests and smiles as they paraded back to the Eirwen Estate.

[goformoony]

i love the hc that the black brothers speak french because i love french do i know what they’re saying without subtitles? or someone telling me? no. but you could be telling me you hate me in french and i’d still enjoy it because i just love the sound of it. i would LOVE to learn french if i wasn’t so nervous too lol

[canisalbus]

Feel free to ignore this if it doesn't spark your interest but worth a shot. Can I ask what breed of dog Jesus was in your dog world?

I think dog Jesus predates most of today's dog breeds. Realistically he'd probably be some kind of mutt, probably with vaguely Canaan dog looks. But European depictions of Jesus have always been very localized, and I tend to think that in Medieval, Renaissance and Baroque art he'd usually appear as a Spaniel of sorts, although it varies from piece to piece. Gun dogs more often than not.

[radiohead-spiderman]

“Jam you can’t just make the Black family French because you want to” WHO’S going to stop me?? Hm?? Who’s going to stop me?? All those mfs are FRENCH, they were going to go to Beauxbaton even

You can pry French baguette eating ancient house of Black out of my cold dead hands

[ghost-bison]

Guys I had a thought

Tenth Doctor = the Little Prince

Rose = ...well, the Rose

Donna = the fox

Bonus:

[artthatgivesmefeelings]

Marcel Verdier (French, 1817–1856) Mary Matthews, Madame Julien-Francois-Bertrand de La Chere (1824-1890), 1843 National Trust, Sizergh Castle

[beanhusk]

the doctor is my poor wet cat babygirl who i love so very much but as soon as donna says something like "allons-as idiots say-y" i'm cheering & clapping

[queenfredegund]

Women in History Month (insp) | Week 3: Consorts and concubines

[euphorial-docx]

the black family is so pretty because they have aquiline noses, curly hair, and a whole lot of eyebrows. any other interpretation is wrong.

[usurperss]

Crying because I found my first portrait drawn of my OC Renée (2017) and one done in 2019? I think 🥺

[la-belle-histoire]

Zénaïde and Charlotte Bonaparte, Jacques-Louis David. 1821.

[lijeuxs]

me when i remember the black family isn't canonically french

[theprettiesttstar]

Does the entire marauders fandom agree that Regulus and Sirius speak french? (and that Sirius doesn't mention it at all)

[canisalbus]

you say machete has to be closeted then why's he always wearing them little heels

Maybe he thinks he's a tiny bit nicer looking in them.

[adharastarlight]

James: you're so cute, how did you get to be so cute?

Reg: well my grandfather was French and my grandmother was, well they were from the same family... so French I guess.

[justsomeectoplasm]

Current obsession of this symbolism in vampire hunter D and hopefully castlevania nocturne.

Full text under the cut if it's too small to read

[I fucking love the exaggeration of fashion in noble classes. I want to fucking see the symbolism of the ridiculousness of the rich through their fashion that doesn't make sense beyond their context just because it's an effective way to show off their ridiculous attachment to wealth.]