Post by Bernard de Montfort on Jun 15, 2013 15:55:22 GMT
1208 A.D.
Montfort-l'Amaury
Rain rattles against the windows as lightning flashes in the distance, the great rolling boom of thunder rattles across the sky, almost as if God himself had roared with anger. Candles flicker as wind sneaks through the cracks in the brickwork, wrapping its cold fingers around anything it touches.
Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
The sounds of screams echo through the hallways of the Castle of Montfort-l’Amaury as the flashes of lightening continue to light up the heavens momentarily before plunging them back into darkness. With each flash there is another scream, each filled with more anguish than the other as servants rush to and from a great room.
Arggggghhhhhhhh! Lord, please make it stop.
The walls are lined with rich fabric displaying a plethora of heraldic symbols, draped delicately over wooden frames. A warm fire crackles, spitting embers out into the room as its warm glow betrays the scene before it. The sounds of frantic footsteps rattle through the room as two women speak amongst themselves at great speed, either side of the great four poster bed.
Arrrrgggghhh! Please, have mercy!
Under the fine silk sheets there is a woman, her face a picture of agony. Her hair is matted with sweat, fine beads pour down her forehead as she squeezes her eyes shut and grits her teeth. One of the ladies by her sides gently dabs her with a wet cloth as she clutches her hand gratefully.
Almost there m’lady… just a little more…
Arrrrrrrggggggghhhhhhhhh!
A midwife hurriedly barks orders to the women who rush around her, grabbing towels and passing her a multitude of torturous equipment which she uses with ruthless efficiency. The woman laid in bed throws her head back, trying her hardest to hold in the screams but she can only fail to succumb.
God! Please! Arggggghhhhhhhhhh!
Then, through the high pitched shrieks of the woman, another cry is heard, far more infantile and much reduced in anguish. Panting heavily, the woman looks down between her legs, her face beginning glow through the tears as she tries hard to hold back her emotions. In the midwifes arms a baby squirms, their legs kicking out frantically as it bellows at the top of its lungs, taking in the first breathes of air.
Are they ok?
The midwife smiles warmly.
Oui, m’lady. His lordship will be pleased, it is a boy.
A boy?....oh sweet Lord, thank you for this blessing…
Suddenly the great oak door swings open as Simon de Montfort bursts into the room, drenched with rain water he drips from head to toe. Wasting little time he rushes to his wife’s side.
Alix, my love, I came as soon as I heard, please forgive me…
Be still husband, you have your duties, just as I have mine…I hope my work pleases you…
Simon turns, his eyes meeting his young sons who has been wrapped gently in a white sheet by the midwife. The couple watch as she passes the young boy to his mother who cradles him gratefully in her arms, tears streaming down her face as the servants continue to attend to their tasks around her, the bloody sheets being rushed from the room.
A boy?
Yes… what shall we call him?
Alix tilts her head, assessing the youngsters features before a warm smile runs across her lips, she turns to her husband, showing the infant to him.
Simon, after his father.
Simon smiles as his son reaches out and wraps his little fingers around one of his own. The couple bask in this happy moment and even though chaos continues to erupt around them and the skies roar, neither are shaken from this embrace. The life of Simon de Montfort, the future 6th Earl of Leicester, has begun.
~*~
Words cannot express how warm and tingly I feel inside to see such passion in your eyes. To see the hate filling your every pore, it is… refreshing. The most cool, calculated, detestable man I have ever watch on my television, becoming a slave to rage just like the base mortals he claimed to be above throughout his run as the NCW World Champion.
I slayed the mythology of the unbeatable titan within a week and cracked open your human side with one swing of a crowbar.
And I enjoyed every second of it.
You thought you could really just pretend as though the past few months never happened just because my father was naĂŻve enough to forgive you? That after defying us for so long you could wrap yourself up in a monkey suit and parade around here like a victor? Like you conquered Jerusalem?
Guess again, Verona.
I am the vengeful arm of the de Montforts and I will restore our honour. Everyone must learn that standing against us will not go unpunished, how does it look to everybody else to see you stand up to us for months and get away with it, the roster will consume us if we do not amend this slight.
They must know their place.
And so should you.
You’re the inferior partner in this venture, Roberto. Yet you behave as though you can dictate what we can and cannot do. You paint yourself and virtuous hero who played the villain for everybody else’s victory but deep down, you were doing all of this for yourself. Because you’re selfish.
You played this grand card, the ultimate gesture, to fool everyone into falling for you mock humility. This sabbatical was never to stay out of the limelight and pass the torch to anybody else, it was so you could upon high and pass judgement on everyone, to decide who was “worthy” enough to follow in your footsteps.
To ensure that nobody could touch your legacy.
“The Great Roberto Verona” is just as driven be his own base desires as the rest of us, and I proved that when I tore your precious relationship apart. You like to act like this untouchable man who is unmoved by normal emotions, who can see past futile attachments and egotism and succeed where others can’t, but you’re no better than the rest of us.
You have hidden behind a mask.
I have merely poked the egotistical little bear hidden away deep beneath and brought him to the surface.
It just took a little more to cajole it into the open, but we both know I was willing to go to those lengths.
You’ve given me exactly what I want, Roberto, and this weekend the piper must be paid and trust me, he will be paid double. You’ve committed sin after sin and you went unpunished, Alex Jones may have beaten you but you still won the war when you rolled up on the first Sacrifice in your comfy new position.
I am here to make it just a little less comfortable…
We all have to face our errors eventually, now it is time for you to face yours. The veneer of the great revolutionary is beginning to peel and I’ve only just scratched the surface, the image you have built for yourself is about to come crashing down and there is nothing you can do to stop that.
The perfect boyfriend has been disproven.
The unprovokable master of his emotions has taken the bait.
Next, the “perfect wrestler” will fall at my hands.
Every illusion you have built up around yourself will come crashing down, the walls have already been breached, I merely need to torch the inside. All you have worked so hard to achieve will be for nothing, this is the price you pay for defying my family. Resistance cannot be tolerated and an example will be made of you.
I know you do not care about the result this weekend, but millions would disagree.
Your invincible streak closed at A Night to Remember, but everybody is expecting you to come down that ramp and avenge your beloved Hannah and send the Chicago faithful home happy.
Sorry to break it to you, but the fairy tale ending isn’t on the cards.
I am going to break you, Roberto. You’re going learn that no matter how sick and twisted you make think you are, I am every bit more cunning, every bit more devious… every bit more sadistic. The lengths that you refuse to go beyond, I will gleefully skip past and I will revel in its every moment.
You’re about to realise that all of your sadism was merely childsplay in comparison to what I am capable of.
At Bloody Assizes you’re going to be systematically deconstructed piece by piece so the world can see every single layer of the man you are. The great Verona Myth will be debunked and they’ll see you for what you really are.
A broken man trying to fix the pains of his past through a futile campaign for justice in a world of perpetual injustice.
~*~
The sun glares down on the military airfield as Bernard de Montfort steps out of the plane, shielding his eyes for a second as he adjusts the strap of his bag over his shoulder. He begins to walk down the stairs from the front of the aircraft, looking left and right for somebody before his eyes light up with surprise when he fixes them on the image of his brother, Edward de Montfort waving at him. Slowly, he weaves his way between the happy reunions towards his brother, the pair shaking one another’s hands firmly.
“Bernard, it is good to see you.”
“And you, brother.”
“How was Afghanistan? Was the weather nice?”
Bernard laughs.
“Wow, stuck for small talk, huh?”
Edward smiles, scratching the back of his head.
“Yeah, a little.”
“It was hot, people were shooting at me and I still haven’t got the sand out of my boots. But otherwise, wonderful.”
“Sounds like a family Christmas to me.”
The brothers share a laugh as they walk along the runway.
“So, where is father?”
Suddenly, Edward gets a little nervous, awkwardly scratching the back of his head again as he tries to avoid looking his brother in the eyes.
“Edward?”
“Sorry…I know you wanted to see him but…he had a business trip and…”
“Again? I’ve just spent months in hell and he can’t even spare me five minutes?”
“Calm yourself, brother. You know father…”
Bernard closes his eyes and sighs.
“Yes, I do.”
“You know he doesn’t meant to upset you…”
“Then why can’t he just be honest with me? Why dangle this approval in front of my eyes, only to send you to do his dirty work?”
“I can’t answer that for you, Bernard.”
“If mother was still here…”
“Well, she isn’t, Bernard. Father is how he is, you’re going to have to get used to that, you don’t need to keep fighting for his approval.”
“That’s easy for you to say, Edward, he has given you everything.”
“Oh come on, don’t turn this back on me.”
“Well, it is the truth, you, Henry and Elizabeth, he does everything for you, drops whatever he is doing…but me?”
“I didn’t come here to argue, I wanted to celebrate your safe return, can we please not do this.”
Bernard sighs again and shakes his head.
“Very well. So, what was so important he had to jet off immediately anyway?”
“I don’t know, some sort of investment deal, he said the terms had changed and he needed to discuss the matter personally. Something to do with New Championship Wrestling.”
Bernard’s eyes suddenly light up.
“He is still really interested in that?”
Edward smiles, feeling a little more at ease.
“Yes. See, he does listen to you.”
“He never ceases to amaze, I’ll give him that.”
Suddenly Edward pulls off Bernard’s beret, running away before turning and waving it in the air.
“Come on, Bernard, I wanna hear those war stories over a drink! No excuses!”
Bernard shakes his head before suddenly picking up his pace and sprinting after his brother as the sound of another aircraft taking off in the distance roars through the sky.
Well howdy there pardner.