The Peasant Noble's Morals
By: Leelei
Disclaimer: I don't own Code:Lyoko
Author's Note: I love this fic. The idea for a fairy tale/fable-like plot hit me when I was working one day with dough at my job in a pizza place. Unfortunately, I don't have that job anymore (my mom had asked me to find another one since we were located in between four bars on the same street –no joke- and had a lot of crazies come in now and then), so now I only have my love for this story, and the memories I have of my time there. Hope you enjoy it.
Once upon a time in medieval France, there was a beautiful young girl who lived her life as a peasant. She was, however, originally born into the nobility of the country as a baron's daughter, but her parents died when she was just three years old, leaving her in the care of her uncle, Lord Xana. In her parents' wills, the young girl's care and upbringing was given to her father's said brother, who immediately sent her away from the family castle to live in the quiet hills of Poitiers in Aquitaine.
The young girl, named Aelita Lyoko, was deemed to be one of the most beautiful children the scholars had ever seen, all of the tutors constantly praising her classic features and pure skin. When Lord Xana took over the castle of his older brother, the they and servants were saddened to see him send away the lovely and intelligent pink-haired girl. The new baron purchased a small cottage from a baker and sent his niece with her nurse there to live until "he found a practical use for her." Aelita was too young to understand at the time her move, but her kind, old nurse raised and educated her to become a bright, knowledgeable young woman, learning everything about her country and situation.
When Aelita turned twelve, her uncle released the nurse from her position. It was hard for the two to let go, the nurse becoming as if she were Aelita's beloved grandmother, but the baron threatened her life if the woman would not leave his niece alone. Aelita was sorrowful, yet she never thought to question her uncle.
At the age of thirteen she ate, slept, and lived as a peasant worker, although she was well-taught and had the money of a noble entitled to her. Her uncle paid the taxes for her cottage, which she always kept immaculate, with the money she made from her baked goods. The man who owned the land before had built his bakery within the cottage, large cast iron ovens and massive bowls for mixing comprising the first floor while a ladder in the backroom led up to a loft for Aelita's bedroom. There were small rooms for storing flour and utensils, and a long, tall counter in the front room for customers to wait at while Aelita made their orders. She was widely renown for her sweet pastries, and even more so for her special and delicious breads. Travelers from all over France knew of her baking, not from her noble blood (her uncle never mentioned her to others), but based on taste and exquisite palatability. Even the Duchess of Aquitaine sent her servants to fetch bread from her for their meals.
One beautiful late Spring day, the Duchess sent a new servant of hers out to Aelita's cottage to purchase fresh bread for the evening meal. The servant, a male in his late teens, was just promoted to kitchen work after handling the noble family's horses at the stables, so the Duchess knew he would be able to handle the afternoon ride. She sent him out just before midday and expected him back just in time for a late supper.
When the servant arrived at the cottage, he tied his horse outside the quaint home and made his way inside. Aelita stood behind the wooden counter, her back to him as she stirred a large bowl with a long stick, preparing another batch of dough. To her right, a large oven burned with an orange glow, ready to bake anything placed inside to a nice, golden crisp.
"Pardon me, Lady Aelita," said the servant, catching her attention. "But the Duchess has sent me to retrieve bread for her supper this evening. Is there a batch ready at this time?"
Aelita turned to him, setting her stick down then wiping her hands on her apron. She smiled as she approached the counter. "Yes, dear sir, I have a dozen loaves prepared already this morning. You may take them now, if you would like, and they ought to still be warm by the time they reach the Lady," she spoke in a soft, serene voice.
"Then I shall take all twelve," replied the servant and detached a velvet bag of coins from his belt and set it on the counter. Aelita smiled again and, with a nod, she took the bag and went into the backroom.
Since she had never seen the man before and feared an imposter (her old nurse had always warned her about those claiming they were sent by the Duchess, yet never paid or returned again), she counted the money and checked its value before wrapping up the loaves in warm towels. Once the money was proven real, she packed each loaf gently in a large basket.
Back out near the counter, the servant's eyes were wandering. As he looked over the small cottage, he marveled at all it housed inside. Finally his eyes caught a shimmer towards the far end of the counter, and laid rest on a breathtaking gem. The servant, who always had a greedy thirst for money, gravitated over to the napkin and picked it up to reveal a small, golden ring with a large ruby mounted on top.
'What an extraordinary surprise!' he thought as he grinned from ear to ear at the gorgeous item. 'And so easy for one to take…' He heard Aelita's footsteps nearing and quickly snatched the ring, placing it in the pocket of his jacket as he dropped the napkin and hurried back to the position in front of the counter he was in before.
"May the Duchess enjoy them," Aelita commented as she handed him the basket.
"Many thanks my dear lady," the servant said as he took the basket quickly. "Many thanks for everything." With a grin, he left in a dash before she could respond.
Tilting her head a little and with her brow furrowing, Aelita wondered why he was acting so suspicious, yet she shrugged the idea away and returned to her batch of dough.
The servant arrived just in time for supper to begin for the noble family, or what was left of it. The Duchess had already sat down at the long, grand table in the dining hall of her castle, joined then by her ladies-in-waiting and other court figures, and later blessed with the appearance of her youngest son, the only other member of her immediate family still living with her. Her husband had died many years before, and her first and only other son was already married and ruled as the current Duke from another castle on their land.
The old Duchess still had yet her youngest child, a small, blonde boy she named Jeremie. He was only twelve, yet she raised him well, dressing him in the finest clothes for a boy his age, and had him educated far better than any other child in Europe at the time. Jeremie showed a genius intellect, yet was never athletic or enjoyed the outdoors like his older brother did. Instead, he stayed inside and read as often as possible, eventually needing a new technology discovered involving glass formulated for him to read and see through. The clear shapes were cut and placed in frames, and the young noble was one of the first to ever have what we refer to now as glasses.
Jeremie was always excited to have Aelita's wonderful breads at his meals, and after his supper he excused himself from the table and hurried down to the kitchen to inquire if there would be any left for breakfast in the morning. On his way down the stone steps, however, he heard a servant laughing to another and stopped to listen.
The first servant chuckled and boasted about his adventure to Aelita's cottage earlier in the day, waving around the ring he had stolen from her. Jeremie hid behind the wooden door to the kitchen and peered in to watch as the other servants in the gathered around him to observe the sparkling gem.
"But it is useless," the servant said and finally put it back in his pocket. "I took it into town to have its value estimated before I returned here, and the merchants told me it was worth next nothing because of the crack inside the gem, and would be nearly impossible to sell, even just for the gold."
"Pity," said another. "It is such a fine item. You would have received a small fortune for it."
"Indeed, yet it shall be garbage tonight."
Jeremie, suddenly feeling angered at the servant's poor decision, stepped out from his hiding spot and demanded the attention of everyone in the room. He walked straight towards the servant and held out his hand, threatening the man's life if he did not give him the ring. "Stealing is a crime," scolded the young boy. "And you shall be punished for your selfish behavior." He left them immediately to tell his mother of what he had learned, and the new servant was promptly fired and led to the dungeon.
The Duchess, moved by her son's fiery compassion for the young baker's ring, sent him along with a group of her knights and footmen to return the item. They left early the next morning in a horse drawn carriage, Jeremie's first time away from the castle in some years.
When they arrived at the cottage, Jeremie asked the remainder of the party to wait behind while he went inside, knowing that he had no reason to fear for his safety. Although still reluctant, the knights agreed.
Once inside, Jeremie was taken back by the interiors of the home not promised by the outside. Although he had little first hand experiences with cottages and peasants, he was still positive that he was not in a normal house, and once he met its occupant, he had lost any doubt within his mind of it being a normal bakery.
Aelita appeared from the back room carrying a small sack of sugar, setting it down near the mixing bowl when she saw the finely dressed boy. Walking towards him, she smiled graciously.
Jeremie returned the gesture, looking over what he could see of her as she approached the counter. Even at first sight, he thought she was beautiful: enchanting, bright pink, short hair; pale, delicate skin; and light colored eyes. She wore a modest, plain white dress with very short sleeves, and an apron in the matching color. Jeremie wondered why the immaculate colors for such a job, but realized that she was also covered in pure white flour, some on her bare arms and even a little on her cheeks.
"Good morning, sir," she said first with a small, quick curtsey. "Is there anything I may help you with?"
"No, I have come to return something that belongs to you." He reached into his fine coat jacket, reaching into the silk lining of his breast pocket and producing a small velvet box. "Milady, I am the Duke's brother, sent by our mother, the Duchess, to give back to you what was stolen by one of our servants."
He noticed Aelita's eyes widening as he handed the box to her and as she slowly took it. Opening it, she gasped at her ruby ring inside. "Oh, my!" She could barely contain herself from crying. "I cannot think of any way that would be enough to repay you for your kindness. This was my mother's ring, yet she died before I knew her. I thought once I could not find it yesterday after taking it off to make the dough for the day, that I had lost it forever! Oh, a thousand blessings upon you and your mother, Lord Belpois!"
"Please, Milady, call me Jeremie," the Duke's brother replied with a smile at her joy.
"Jeremie," Aelita said his name sweetly, "is there anything I can do to repay you?"
The young blonde boy couldn't stop himself from smiling at her. Feeling his voice quiver for a second, he had a strange feeling within him. "I…I…" he stuttered, one of the few times he ever did. "I…would like to spend some time with you, if you have any to spare," he finally said. "I have always loved your baking."
Aelita smiled. She had put her ring back on after wiping her hands off on a towel, and set the box aside beneath the counter as she replied. "Yes, I have time for the day now that my baking is complete. Although let us go outside, for it is dreadfully stuffy in here with the ovens, even with all of the shutters open."
So Jeremie followed Aelita out of her cottage through the back entrance, the young girl taking off her apron before leaving past the open wooden door. Jeremie was impressed with the magnificence of the grassy pastures and rolling hills of the land surrounding her home. Aelita soon explained that the other grazing animals and large barns in the distance belonged to her neighbors, many kind people who helped her in anyway they could.
Aelita herself had a small barn, yet it seemed just a large shed compared to the others around her. She kept a cow, a few chickens, a goat, a sheep, and was delighted to be able to tell her visitor of her brand new lamb just born that earlier that Spring. Jeremie commented that she seemed to have a lot of work for a girl her age living on her own, yet Aelita added that her uncle had paid her neighbors regularly to help her. She went on to say that her closest neighbors had a family of five boys, the two youngest, just a few years older than she was, came over to help her tend to her animals in the late afternoon, then delivered her bakery to the surrounding customers, a service she was pleased to be able to offer.
Sitting down on a stone ledge out in one of the pastures, Jeremie asked to hear more about her life. The breeze blew gently by them, ruffling Aelita's long dress in the wind and slowly passing through her hair. She had a solemn look to her features as she gazed down to the grass, and as Jeremie watched her then, he knew he was falling in love with her.
Aelita told him of her life story; how her uncle was a baron under King Louis, and how she was sent to live alone with her nurse while he took control of her father's title and castle. She explained how he bought her the cottage and the nurse taught her how to use the bakery, setting up their own little business for the villagers around them. After her nurse left, she was alone save for her thoughtful neighbors, animals, and customers. She had nearly forgotten what her uncle looked like, and rarely ever received mail from him. The only item he had ever sent to her was her mother's ring, already knowing he wouldn't be able to sell it because of the crack and finding it useless. But Jeremie could understand that Aelita held a deeper meaning within the gift.
"My life is so plain compared to what yours must be," Aelita said as she looked to him. "I mean, your being in the line of a dukedom."
"I am sure you understand the responsibility, being a noble yourself, yet you are in such a unique position," Jeremie replied. "Living a life like mine, guarded within castle walls, surrounded by countless servants and guards, holds nothing compared to the freedom of yours." He took her hand in his. "May I please see you again?"
Aelita smiled. "Yes. I wake at sunrise to tend to my animals, then wash and eat my morning meal. Then I start the dough and bake until past midday but after, however, I would be able to spend my time with you for the rest of the day."
"Then I shall return tomorrow after midday. Farewell, Lady Aelita." Jeremie kissed her hand. Aelita smiled and giggled at his gesture. The young boy returned to his carriage, his travelling party waiting impatiently for him, yet Aelita quickly packed a baskets of fresh breads, pastries, and sweets and hurried out to give to him before he left.
The next day, Jeremie returned and spoke again with Aelita. The two quickly became friends, and the Duchess was happy to see her youngest son going out and visiting with others around his age, rather than spending all of his time inside the castle. Also, the entire court always appreciated the baked goods Jeremie would bring back after every visit.
Jeremie soon inquired as to why Aelita always wore white, and she replied that it was to match the flour. Working with the white material would ruin any other color of clothes, so she matched it to prevent early wear of her dresses. But Jeremie saw it as a sign of purity when he looked at her. He saw her as kind, sweet, and innocent after shielding herself from the evils of the world.
As their friendship grew, Jeremie invited Aelita back to the castle many times, but she always remained loyal to her business and customers, even when Jeremie offered to pay her the usual income for the day. The two always found something to talk about together, and they laughed often. Their relationship was strong, but one day over a month later all of it changed when Jeremie asked Aelita if he could kiss her during one of their visits, the pink-haired girl happily granting him permission.
Then tragedy struck. Jeremie soon learned that his older brother was killed in a hunting accident. He stayed at home with his mother for a few days to console her until she regained her strength, then he continued his visits with Aelita again. He was sorrowful as well, even though there was a wide age difference between him and his brother, the two barely even growing up together, but Aelita was still able to comfort him and lift his spirits, and he was thankful to have her love and support.
The Duke's death actually brought about a little excitement throughout Aquitaine. Aelita had learned that Jeremie had to marry and take over the title, even if he was not ready yet to receive the job. He relayed to her that his mother explained that he at least needed to be recognized, then she would return to the position like she had before for a short time between her husband's death and first son's marriage. The Duchess regretted having to push her son into marriage, but Jeremie understood that it was for the best of their family and future descendents.
Soon after her decision, the Duchess informed her son that the rest of the kingdom was impatiently waiting for the new duke to be named. She confided in him that she became worried and contacted a marquis within France named Jean-Pierre Delmas, who had a daughter just a year older than him. She had no knowledge then that Aelita was, too, a noble, or of how close her son had become with her. Before Jeremie was able to explain to his mother about Aelita, she left and traveled to her deceased son's castle to console his widow and finish other business to keep the title under control until Jeremie was wed.
Aelita couldn't help but cry softly when Jeremie explained to her his circumstance. He comforted her as he went on to say that Lady Elisabeth was a miserable girl, and that he would never choose her instead as a wife, even to save his title. But Aelita made him promise that he wouldn't renounce his dukedom in order to marry her.
On one of their last visits, Jeremie explained that he had finally received a letter from his mother that the betrothal papers from the Delmas family were on their way for him to sign, and that if he found any other girl that he wanted to marry, then he would have to prove her deserving the title over the young marquess. Jeremie was quiet during their last discussion, but before he left he swore that he would find a way for him to marry her and left his true love with one last kiss.
Like my previous fic, I'm unfortunately going to have to break this one up due to length. The last part is finished, though, so you can expect it up within the next couple of days, barring however long it takes me to bull shit my English paper first. :D Until then, thanks for reading and please leave a review!