(DISCONTINUED) Run, Runned, Running

Foundation

Napoleon loved to sit on that damned rock. That rock that causes him so much pain and misery. The one on St Helena.

The waves below the island crashed along the rocks giving a soothing effect. Napoleon hated that sound. He contemplated a lot at that damned place, some British soldiers were getting concerned if he was going to escape or not.

Yes, he wanted to see his son, he wanted to tell Josephine he loved her one last time. Maybe even apologize to Alexander on the way.

There was just too much he thought about because of the complete boredom that this small island brought to him.

A lot of things ran through the Emperor's mind almost in denial of the events that happened, if only he calculated correctly maybe he wouldn't have ended where he was right now. God was he stupid.

He sat on the rock, as he saw dusk beginning to settle down. His Longwood house lit up giving an amber glow to Napoleon's coat. He took off his hat looking at it. Almost wanting to throw the damn thing into the ocean.

He couldn't bear looking at it. It was hurtful even. He felt a small tap on his shoulders.

"Sire, it's time for dinner.." The guard said looking scared from the mannerism Napoleon was doing.

To everyone in town, Napoleon was a grumpy old person who happened to be exiled on a small island preventing him from doing anything remotely interesting. To put it lightly.

"Yes- Yes I'll be there in a minute." He said putting his hat down and leaving it on that spot. He didn't care about bringing it back inside. It wasn't worth his time.

-
After dinner, he sat down on his slightly unbalanced chair and took a quill to write. His desk was messy, full of scrapped letters and rewrites to Marie and his Son. He wanted to keep up with them.

He knew his attempts were futile in trying to persuade Hudson into ever sending any of the letters. But it was worth a shot.

The small candle that that lit the room was almost fading and he felt himself succumbing to sleep. He kept rewriting the sentences to Marie, more importantly, his son who was already 5.

"Marie! How is it going-"

No that's not right. He never suspected to be in a situation where he would write to Marie to all people. Their marriage was more of a business type of thing than love. Then the love he shared with Josephine. It just never felt right writing to her.

He thought about it for a while. His son, Francis was probably growing up to hate him already. He didn't know exactly if Marie and Francis were in Austria after his first exile. But that's the most likely place they would be.

Napoleon felt himself almost about to crumble, as he just left his quill back in the ink well letting the ink dry from the few words he wrote to Marie.

A sudden knock jolted Napoleon back into reality. Napoleon looked back to see Hudson again. He never really talked to him, so it surprised him that he came and visited him.

"Napoleon, I've gotten a letter from an unnamed sender under your name.." Hudson said setting the letter on Napoleon's desk. "I'm assuming the letter must be from one of your Generals.." Hudson said leaving the room as quickly as possible.

He probably could tell the sadness and loneliness radiating from Napoleon just by looking at the state of his room is. Napoleon examined the letter. He hasn't gotten letters for months and this was one of the first ones that popped up.

Napoleon looked at how the letter was sealed. It was sealed carefully as if it was to be read with utmost care. The handwriting seemed way too unfamiliar. Maybe because the room was dark, but the handwriting seemed to.

"Flowery."

He was pretty sure at this point, this was not from one of his Generals. Anyway, probably most of his Generals were already dead at this point.

He opened it, it was suspenseful. He opened it with the utmost care noticing how the paper looks so pristine when peeled off in such an amber environment.

He didn't know what to expect. But what shocked him was the first few words into the sentence.

"Dear Napoleon,

I'm the Duke of Wellington or Arthur Wellesley as I'm known"

Napoleon was flabbergasted if that was the right word. The Duke of Wellington? That guy? That guy that defeated him during that fated battle. That battle leads him to this godforsaken island for over a year.

That guy...

He was shocked, to say the least. He continued reading on, he also seemed to notice that this man could write okay French at the least.

"I've decided to pay a visit, down at St Helena. I've been meaning to meet you in person for a long time. To put aside our differences, like normal people than what other people perceive us to be. "

Napoleon looked at the letter trembling, scared and excited at the same time. Maybe because of the fact someone was going to visit him.

But it was another British anyway. No, he was mostly scared of the fact this was his "Enemy" he was seeing. Napoleon made a lot of enemies in his lifetime.

And saying his "mortal enemy" was the Duke of Wellington is a bit of a stretch. But he read on.

"I'll be staying in St Helena for over three months, more of a vacation than anything. If any information persists I'll be telling Sir Lowe to."

"Sincerely, Welsley"

Napoleon realized how formal the letter seemed rather than personal. Hell, they barely knew each other! But Napoleon could feel his heart beating and be excited to meet him.

Maybe to fight with him, but what he said was to "Put aside our differences."

Napoleon was ready to tell this to Hudson. He then put the letter safely into the drawer. Taking the small lamp-side candle to his bed blowing it out.

He lied awake that night with his thoughts filling up his brain. He barely got sleep.