The Fall of Madame Fleur Part 2: The Sacrifice

Chapter 1

I’m standing at the stove, preparing lentil soup for dinner. Adeline and Celine’s laughter carries from the foyer. I’m sure they’re gossiping over some young townsmen that tickles their fancy this week.

 I hear the front door creak, “Gale, go wash up, it’s about time for dinner.” 

I’m usually greeted with a groan, but I get no response. I turn to see if his silence is a precursor for how dirty he has gotten his new clothes, but I’m greeted by someone I could have gone the rest of my life without seeing again. 

“Hello Fleur,” the soup ladle falls from my hand and soup splatters on the floor.

There he stands - my father, looking thinner and grayer than I remember. 

My siblings rush to the kitchen, I'm sure to investigate the cacophony that was the ladle crashing to the floor. 

But instead they notice the visitor at the door, and run past me, nearly knocking me over in their excitement.

"Father!" they squeal, throwing their arms around him.

Mother follows close behind, tears streaming down her face as she embraces him. "Oh, Aldric, we've missed you."

My jaw clenches. Missed him? After what he's done to us?

"My loves," Father says, his voice rough with emotion. "I'm so happy to see you all."

His gaze lands on me, still frozen in the doorway. 

I don't move. My hands ball into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms.

"Fleur?" Mother calls, frowning. "Don't you want to welcome your father home?"

"Welcome him?" I spit the words out. "Why should I?"

The room goes silent. Even Gale stops his excited bouncing to stare at me.

Father's smile falters. "Fleur, I know you're angry-"

"Angry?" I laugh, the sound harsh and bitter. "That doesn't begin to cover it."

"Fleur," Mother starts, but I cut her off.

"No. I won't pretend everything's fine. Do you have any idea what we've been through while you were gone?"

Father takes a step toward me. "You know I never meant-"

"Never meant what? To ruin our lives? To leave us penniless and struggling?" My voice rises with each word. "While you were off dallying with your Dark Elf mistress, I was the one keeping this family afloat. Me. Not you."

"That's enough," Mother says sharply. “Your father is home and your siblings want to celebrate.”

I shake my head, disgust churning in my stomach. "Celebrate? There's nothing to celebrate. He destroyed everything we had, and for what? Some harlot?"

"She wasn't-" Father starts, but I'm not finished.

"I don't care. I care about the consequences. Do you know how hard I've worked? The things I've had to do?" Tears sting my eyes, but I blink them back. I won't give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

* * *

Father raises his hands, placating. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying to make things right. I've got a job now, with some Dark Elf merchants."

My laugh is sharp enough to cut glass. "Oh, that's rich. More Dark Elves? Haven't you learned your lesson?"

"It's not like that," he insists. "They need someone with experience in trade. I can use my skills to help our family."

"Your skills?" I spit the words out. "The same skills that landed you in jail? That left us destitute?"

Mother steps between us. "Fleur, not in front of your siblings. Give him a chance, your father is trying-"

"No." I shake my head. "He doesn't get to waltz back in here and pretend everything's fine. We don't need him or his Dark Elf connections."

Father tries again, "This job could really turn things around for us. I could make amends-"

"Amends?" The word tastes bitter on my tongue. "You can't undo what you've done. You can't give back the years we've lost, the security you stole from us."

My siblings huddle together, wide-eyed and silent. I hate that they have to see this, but I can't stop the torrent of words now that it's started.

"We were doing fine without you," I say, my voice low and cold. "We don't need you or want you here. Go back to your precious Dark Elves."

Father's face crumples. "Fleur, please. I'm still your father, and I love you."

"Love?" I scoff. "If you loved us, you wouldn't have betrayed us in the first place. You wouldn't have thrown everything away for a fling."

"It wasn't just a fling," he protests weakly.

"I don't care what it was!" I'm shouting now, beyond caring who hears. "I don't want you here. I don't want your excuses or your Dark Elf job. I want you gone."

* * *

I stand there, seething, as my family clusters around Father like a pack of starving dire wolves around a fresh kill. Their eager faces and welcoming words make my stomach churn.

"Oh, Aldric, we're so glad you’re home," Mother coos, her arms wrapped around his neck.

My younger sister, Celine, tugs at his sleeve. "Father, did you bring us anything from the city?"

He chuckles, reaching into his pocket. "As a matter of fact, I did." He pulls out a handful of colorful candies, and Celine squeals with delight.

"Enough sugar to rot your teeth," I mutter, but no one pays me any mind.

My words fall on deaf ears. They're all too busy fawning over the prodigal father to notice me anymore. I might as well be invisible.

"Come, Aldric," Mother says, leading him towards the kitchen. "I'll heat up some stew. You must be famished after your journey."

"That'd be wonderful, my love," he replies, following her like an obedient pup.

I can't bear to watch anymore. I storm out of the house, slamming the door behind me. The cool night air hits my face, but it does little to calm the fire raging inside me.

How can they just welcome him back like nothing happened? Like he didn't destroy our lives? The unfairness of it all makes me want to scream.

I pace back and forth in front of the house, my hands clenched into fists. Through the window, I can see them all gathered around the table, laughing and talking as if nothing ever happened. As if we hadn't struggled and barley scraped by due to what he did.

The bitterness rises in my throat like bile. I've never felt so alone, so disconnected from my own family. They've chosen him over me, over everything we've been through together.

I kick at a stone, sending it skittering across the yard. "Damn you, Father," I whisper. "Damn you for coming back and ruining everything."