[FIC] Kaisers Page (Tanz der Vampire, PG)
Jul. 7th, 2006 10:58 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
winterFor ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fyrie, who needs the cheering-up, and gave me the spiffiest birthday present :) (And yes, it was vampire threeway pr0n. Predictable, aren't I?)
Fandom: Tanz der Vampire
Pairing: Von Krolock/pageboy
Rating: PG
Warning: Von Krolock POV. I.e. graphomania galore.
KAISERS PAGE
KAISERS PAGE
The boy was a study in utter ruin.
The smooth skin had to have been golden once, but now its greyness wrapped tightly over the skull bones that threatened to rub through it. Dark curls still hung limply, damp from the bath the boy had taken, his first chance to clean himself since Bonaparte's disastrous retreat from Moscow had started.
The bath had been a perfect chance, but the Graf von Krolock had left him to it as the boy struggled out of the rags of his uniform. It had been too much, too much beauty, too much pain, too much sadness in every motion as emaciated fingers touched every bloodstain and remembered fallen comrades, his entire platoon's bodies scattered on the road from Moscow to Transylvania. Von Krolock had fled the room, sagging against the wall of the hallway until the influence of the boy's sweet, melancholy thoughts flowed away from his own, leaving him gasping through the bitter taste of tears.
Now he watched over steepled fingers as the boy ate, tasting each morsel as if it was to be the last before the food disappeared from his plate.
"Is the meal to your liking?" von Krolock asked, surprised at the roughness of his own voice as he spoke for the first time since leading the way to this room half an hour earlier.
"Very much so, Citizen - oh, I mean Excellency." The boy's lashes lowered fetchingly over dark eyes. "It tastes as good as food from the Emperor's own table."
"Have you shared in the Emperor's repast, then?"
The boy nodded, then swallowed a bite of cake. "I had the honour of being his page. Only I joined the Chasseurs during the Great Campaign, because I wanted to be of use to the cause- Forgive me, Excellency, of course it is not Austria's cause."
This politeness, such excellent manners over what he knew was a mind almost shattered, were enchanting indeed. "You have given so much for your cause that it would be most rude of me to object to your discussing it, Monsieur. You are among friends here."
"My name..." The boy swallowed, then reached for the goblet just as von Krolock finished refilling it. "My name is Jean Molinair, Excellency."
Something about it was jarring to the Graf's ears. "Only Jean?"
The dark eyes snapped up, widening. "Jean-Baptiste," the boy whispered. "My mother called me Jean-Baptiste."
Rising, von Krolock reached out to the young page, who took his hand without hesitation. He drew Jean-Baptiste to the window, pulling back the curtains to reveal the snow-covered forest below. The moonlight hid the greyness of the boy's skin.
"You are among friends, Jean-Baptiste," he murmured as he traced the fragile bones of a too-thin cheek, almost tasting the quiet pain in the dark eyes. "I hope that in time you shall call me Johannes."
The astonished, breathless whisper echoed in the room. "Excellency?"
The sweetness and bitterness of the moment overwhelmed von Krolock completely. As he bent to drink the unshed tears from Jean-Baptiste's lips, he thought that if his heart did not break into pieces under the force of this grief, it would mean he was a monster beyond hope of salvation.
-FINIS-
And the page boy from Napoleon's ranks
Eighteen-thirteen, in the castle's gates
That his sadness did not break my heart
I cannot forgive myself
- Michael Kunze, Unstillbare Gier, Tanz der Vampire
fyrie, who needs the cheering-up, and gave me the spiffiest birthday present :) (And yes, it was vampire threeway pr0n. Predictable, aren't I?)Fandom: Tanz der Vampire
Pairing: Von Krolock/pageboy
Rating: PG
Warning: Von Krolock POV. I.e. graphomania galore.
KAISERS PAGE
KAISERS PAGE
The boy was a study in utter ruin.
The smooth skin had to have been golden once, but now its greyness wrapped tightly over the skull bones that threatened to rub through it. Dark curls still hung limply, damp from the bath the boy had taken, his first chance to clean himself since Bonaparte's disastrous retreat from Moscow had started.
The bath had been a perfect chance, but the Graf von Krolock had left him to it as the boy struggled out of the rags of his uniform. It had been too much, too much beauty, too much pain, too much sadness in every motion as emaciated fingers touched every bloodstain and remembered fallen comrades, his entire platoon's bodies scattered on the road from Moscow to Transylvania. Von Krolock had fled the room, sagging against the wall of the hallway until the influence of the boy's sweet, melancholy thoughts flowed away from his own, leaving him gasping through the bitter taste of tears.
Now he watched over steepled fingers as the boy ate, tasting each morsel as if it was to be the last before the food disappeared from his plate.
"Is the meal to your liking?" von Krolock asked, surprised at the roughness of his own voice as he spoke for the first time since leading the way to this room half an hour earlier.
"Very much so, Citizen - oh, I mean Excellency." The boy's lashes lowered fetchingly over dark eyes. "It tastes as good as food from the Emperor's own table."
"Have you shared in the Emperor's repast, then?"
The boy nodded, then swallowed a bite of cake. "I had the honour of being his page. Only I joined the Chasseurs during the Great Campaign, because I wanted to be of use to the cause- Forgive me, Excellency, of course it is not Austria's cause."
This politeness, such excellent manners over what he knew was a mind almost shattered, were enchanting indeed. "You have given so much for your cause that it would be most rude of me to object to your discussing it, Monsieur. You are among friends here."
"My name..." The boy swallowed, then reached for the goblet just as von Krolock finished refilling it. "My name is Jean Molinair, Excellency."
Something about it was jarring to the Graf's ears. "Only Jean?"
The dark eyes snapped up, widening. "Jean-Baptiste," the boy whispered. "My mother called me Jean-Baptiste."
Rising, von Krolock reached out to the young page, who took his hand without hesitation. He drew Jean-Baptiste to the window, pulling back the curtains to reveal the snow-covered forest below. The moonlight hid the greyness of the boy's skin.
"You are among friends, Jean-Baptiste," he murmured as he traced the fragile bones of a too-thin cheek, almost tasting the quiet pain in the dark eyes. "I hope that in time you shall call me Johannes."
The astonished, breathless whisper echoed in the room. "Excellency?"
The sweetness and bitterness of the moment overwhelmed von Krolock completely. As he bent to drink the unshed tears from Jean-Baptiste's lips, he thought that if his heart did not break into pieces under the force of this grief, it would mean he was a monster beyond hope of salvation.
-FINIS-
And the page boy from Napoleon's ranks
Eighteen-thirteen, in the castle's gates
That his sadness did not break my heart
I cannot forgive myself
- Michael Kunze, Unstillbare Gier, Tanz der Vampire
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(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-07 09:05 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-07 09:09 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-07 09:10 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-07 09:12 am (UTC)You evil wench, you
*logs off*
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Date: 2006-07-07 11:44 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-10 08:22 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-10 08:29 am (UTC)