Alternate Ending part deux~
Dec. 5th, 2008 11:09 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
faded_laceSo, here it is. The not-so-long, not-so-awaited chapter two of the Alternate Ending. This one features Corinne and Viorica, but, of course, as is the way with these two, it's extremely short. すみません！ It's not that we don't love them, really... But yeah. Anyway, without further ado, I present to you:
[Further ado: I have so much work to doooooo TT______TT; Why did my life suddenly eat me?!]
Chapter: Alt. End Chapter 2
Claimer: Our GIRLS for once.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: yuri, language, character death, angst...
“Queen To Host Fabulous Ball Celebrating Execution.” Viorica scoffed at the headline and turned the paper over, ignoring the cover story. She didn’t know why she bothered with the paper at all; the headlines rarely changed, and when they did, the reports never bothered to tell the real story anyway. Everything was always diluted and always biased in favor the Commandant’s government. Even so, no one seemed to care. In fact, almost everyone was happy, in spite of the way the former Brigadier General squandered tax money on his bimonthly parties, because in general, the Commandant was a benevolent ruler. Still, no matter what people thought about him, regardless of what good he was doing for the country, the economy, society, Viorica would hate him because he had her brother.
Four years ago, when all the madness started with the Queen’s assassination, Niles and Dragomir did what no one else had the guts to do and stood up to the Commandant, reveling him for what he was and exposing his plot to remove the Queen from power to usurp the throne. In retaliation, the Commandant imprisoned Niles and Dragomir, and no one had seen them since… Hardly anyone even remembered them, and no one, it seemed, could bring themselves to care about what the Commandant had done. By now, after four years, everyone had slipped into complacency.
Even Corrine and herself rarely did anything to fight back any more, the way they had at first…but it was just them now, anyway, and it was hard to keep going when nothing seemed to change. As long as they kept their head down, they had a pretty good life, Viorica had to admit. Not, granted, as good as it had been before, but they had each other and together they worked as maids in a large manor for an elderly wealthy woman. It was good work; she was nice to them and allowed them to share a room—she didn’t seem to mind the fact that they were together in the slightest, which was a relief.
Without Corinne…Viorica knew she wouldn’t have been able to make it through the past four years. The Commandant got Dragomir and Niles early, and right after that, as soon as they could, Tatiana and her family fled the capital to join the twins and their families, and all of them had left the country. Viorica hadn’t heard anything from them since, and being without a family was almost unbearable…but she couldn’t have gone with them, not while Dragomir and Niles were being held without justification.
That’s why they staid, she and Corinne; they’d organized a small force together to try and act against the Commandant, to free Dragomir and Niles and expose the truth to the people. But it was difficult to act against the Commandant; he had the Berceuse Malheureuse working for him as some sort of secret police that operated outside the laws. Under Donavan D’Aubigne, they did whatever they wanted, and the whole city was slowly rotting with the corruption that everyone was too content to acknowledge.
As she scanned the second page, Viorica looked over the last few lines of the cover story and stopped, her breath catching in her throat when her eyes came across a name: Hirlea. She suddenly felt dizzy, sick almost, and faint. With shaky hands, Viorica turned quickly back to the front page and started the article from the beginning, praying that she’d been mistaken, that it was someone else. It…it couldn’t be Dragomir, could it…? They’d kept him alive so long already, why would they—how could they—!? Not now—why now?! Viorica’s mind raced, and after each sentence, she tried, desperately, to deny what she was reading. Dragomir wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. But…it seemed…it seemed they’d executed him the day before yesterday…
It all sunk in very slowly; Dragomir was gone. They could never rescue him…she could never see him again. Never. It was over. Aside from Corinne, the most important person in the world to Viorica was gone, and she couldn’t take it. Viorica crumpled, dropping her head down onto the table and letting her tears stream down her cheeks, onto the paper, blurring the words she’d hoped to never read.
Corinne carefully descended the servants' stairs near the back of the house, her elbow against the wall for support, as both her hands were occupied in holding a breakfast tray of dirty dishes. It was a trick she had figured out sometime in the last four years, after more tripping over skirts and tumbles down the stairs than she cared to recount. She had been an entirely clumsy servant at first, having never even considered the line of work before everything changed. But now she was used to wearing long skirts all the time, as the uniform required, and now she was used to carrying things and arranging things and holding her tongue and looking proper, and her cooking was even improving. She didn't mind the work, per se, Corinne had always been a hard worker, and keeping herself busy kept her mind from wandering to places it shouldn't.
Now, in the early morning, was one of the busiest times of the day, and as she reached the bottom of the stairs and headed down the corridor to the kitchen, Corinne went over in her mind the things that needed to be done before noon. She had just collected the plates from breakfast, which their widowed employer took in her sitting room, and now she needed to collect the newspaper for her to read and then draw up her bath, and then the linens needed to be changed and the bed curtains shaken out, and she needed to make sure everything was in order for lunch being prepared before collecting the newspaper again and starting the laundry... She made it to the kitchen before she finished her list, and distracted herself with poking the fire, which Viorica seemed to have neglected, and placing the dirty dishes and silverware in the sink to be washed. It was only once she had turned to inquire about the newspaper that she noticed Viorica, sobbing quietly into her arms, pressed against the table.
Corinne panicked and was at her side in an instant, bending over her, trying to catch her eyes. "Viorica, what's happened?" she asked desperately, trying to figure out the source of her unhappiness and spotting the newspaper beneath her. "Is it something in the news... have things gotten worse?" Her voice was grim, and there was a very good chance, she knew, but both she and Viorica had come to accept the way things were going downhill... so it had to be something worse. "Please, Viorica, love, please tell me what's wrong..."
“Dragomir…” Viorica sobbed, slowly lifting her head and looking up into Corinne’s eyes even though her vision was blurry with tears. “They…they…” she struggled, but she couldn’t bring herself to voice it, not yet, it was too soon to give the fact that much credence; she still didn’t want to accept it… “Corinne, they—!” Viorica gasped, giving in and pressing into Corinne’s arms, desperate for comfort and reassurance. Corinne was all she had now…
Corinne clasped Viorica close to her, stroking her hair, trying to calm her shaking body. Viorica always came first, and Corinne only began to think about what she had said after she was already doing her best to remedy the symptoms... But Dragomir, Viorica said, he was... could she possibly mean... executed? No, it was too terrible to believe, but what else could there be? Corinne's legs trembled, and she fell into a chair, pulling Viorica with her, still holding her tight. She was stricken to the core, and part of her wanted to crumble, too, but she knew, she had to be strong for Viorica. After all, they were fighting a losing battle... they had started out fighting their way upstream, but now, it really seemed, they were just fighting not to get swept away by the current. As the past few years had gone by, Corinne realized, she had slowly melted into life as it was now, adapted. Because even if they couldn't do anything for anyone else, they had to keep living.
"Shh..." she soothed into Viorica's ear as soon as she trusted her voice not to shake. It still trembled slightly, but she had to go on, Viorica was what was most important. "Come now... he wouldn't have... wouldn't have wanted you to cry, you know that..." That hardly helped, she assumed, when one's brother had been unjustly executed, but she had to do something... "Come on, Viorica, baby, I know it hurts... but we've got to keep moving forward, okay? Come on, come now... that's right, you can cry on me... but you've got to keep fighting for me, too, you've got to stay strong for me... and for your brother's memory..."
“But why?” Viorica sobbed against Corinne’s shoulder. “What are we doing? What do we have left!?” She was shaking violently but she managed to lift her head slowly to look up at Corinne, gripping her tightly for support. “There’s—there’s nothing anymore. Nothing we can do! Not for anyone! It’s all over…”The tears were still streaming from Viorica’s eyes, but now she was angry, too. “They’ve taken everyone! It’s just us, Corinne! They didn’t say anything about Niles, but I just know he’s next! If they took Dragomir, he’s next, I know it! We have nothing now!” Viorica shouted loudly. She wasn’t angry at Corinne...but the emotion was overwhelming. After everything they’d done, in spite of everything they’d done, everyone was dead. Nothing had been worth it. Nothing came of everything they’d tried! All of it was useless! “Julian died trying to do something, trying to help us—his death amounted to nothing!” She dropped her head back down against Corinne’s shoulder and started to cry harder. “So why…” Viorica chocked, weak from yelling, “why do I need to be strong for a memory? Why should we keep fighting when there’s nothing left that we can do?”
Corinne set her jaw, looking down and swallowing hard, not knowing what to say. Viorica had a point... she was right. Nothing they did made any difference, and so many people had died... And Corinne knew that, no matter what, she couldn't lose Viorica. Viorica was all she had now, Viorica was everything to her, was her world. And in the end, Corinne knew, the reason she wanted Viorica to keep trying, to keep going was for herself, it was all selfish reasoning... but she couldn't bear it if Viorica were to give up on everything.
She could feel tears running down her own cheeks, now, and, as hard as she was trying to keep her emotions in check, she couldn't contain them now. "Please, Viorica," she managed to whisper hoarsely, holding her all the more tightly, "Please, if nothing else... you can't give up on everything, you have to keep living for me... because I couldn't possibly go on without you, Viorica..." Clutching Viorica's trembling shoulders and trying not to tremble, herself, she swallowed and tried again. "Please... Viorica... I need you..." That was what she knew to be true, that was all she could sell... because, in truth, Corinne couldn't be sure whether or not she really wanted to keep fighting. It was the right thing to do, she knew, it was what they should do... but more than anything, Corinne wanted to keep Viorica safe, wanted to stay together... and that was best accomplished by lying low... But for now, what she needed to do was to calm and comfort Viorica, and so she focused on that, because without Viorica, she knew, she was nothing.
Viorica gripped Corinne a little tighter and peered up at her through her tears, nodding silently before burying her face once again. She wouldn’t…she would never leave Corinne. Viorica knew she wouldn’t give up, ever, if it meant hurting Corinne…and…and she wanted to stay with Corinne forever. “I love you…” Viorica sniffled finally. “I’m…I’m not going to give up. I’m going to keep going because I have you.” She sat up and wiped feverishly at her eyes, forcing herself to stop crying. “But it really is over…everything we tried…it all just failed. What do we have left besides each other?”
Corinne looked back into her eyes solemnly, sighing before wiping them tenderly with her thumb. "We have the truth... and that's something..." But there was less conviction than she would have liked in her voice, and so she shook her head, trying not to think about it. "But for now... I love you, so please... hang on for me." Lifting Viorica, she rose and set Viorica back in the chair, smiling softly down at her. "Just stay put for now... I'll take care of things." Taking a glass to the faucet, she filled it with water and set it on the table in front of Viorica. "Drink this, or else you'll get dehydrated... and just try to feel better, all right?" Turning back to the table, she noticed the tear-stained state of the newspaper and sighed again with a weary half-laugh. "I'll do my best to explain this away, and then get started on lunch... so you just stay put. All right?" Placing a kiss on Viorica's cheek, she rose, newspaper in hand, and hurried back upstairs to the scolding she knew would be waiting. She wasn't concerned, however, their mistress was really very kind to them, despite her crabby-old-lady exterior; after she made a fuss, Corinne was sure, she would ask if Viorica was all right. It was a good thing, because Corinne didn't need one more thing to worry about... what with Hirlea's death weighing on them both, and the extent to which she knew Viorica was devastated, Corinne had already decided to let Viorica rest for the day, to take on the tasks for herself... but with Viorica to worry about and Hirlea to mourn on top of double the regular work, Corinne knew it was going to be a long day.
Viorica watched as Corinne headed out and slumped forward onto the table once more. She was still crying—probably would be for the rest of the day—but there was less passion now. She wasn’t angry any more, and in fact she was a little surprised she had been at all…she knew they’d tried, done everything they could, and for a long time she’d known that it was basically over…that there was nothing left they could do for anyone. It was just their own survival now…Reading what had happened simply brought home the fact a little harder. Viorica kept crying, but she knew that somehow, she felt less then she had the day they’d first taken Dragomir and Niles away… Four years had passed…everything was different now…and she’d…she’d come to accept the fact that her brother was no longer in her life a long time ago. This was…finally a resolution to all the pain she’d felt before. At least now she could mourn legitimately and move on. She could stop being angry with herself for not being able to rescue him.
Viorica reached forward slowly and wrapped her fingers around the glass of water, just holding it for a few minutes before finally dragging it across the table toward her and taking a long drink. It did help a little…at least with the dryness in her throat and mouth. A cynical part of her was relieved to be rehydrated because it meant she could keep crying, and another part of her thought immediately of Corinne and just how much she cared. Corinne always did so much for her… Viorica knew it was only because of her that Donavan and his goons hadn’t already found and killed them both. Viorica wiped at her eyes quickly and finished the glass, getting to her feet sullenly and still teary. Corinne was definitely the reason they had their job, their whole life together, in fact, but that didn’t mean Viorica didn’t have to help out. Corinne had never been very comfortable with housework, but it was easy for Viorica, and it was the least she could do. Even if she was crying, she could still cook, still make herself useful. After all, it was cooking with Dragomir that Viorica remembered with the most fondness, so perhaps, cooking was the best she could do to honor him now.
There was a knock at the door, and Corinne looked up from the laundry she was folding, setting it aside with a sigh and rising, heading for the front entrance hall. There was another impatient knock, and Corinne knit her brow, wondering who it could possibly be. Their mistress, Madame Gueren, hardly ever got company, and she wondered who could possibly have such urgent business with her. There was yet a third rap just as Corinne reached the door, and, as she had made habit since she and Viorica had gone into hiding, she looked through the peephole to see who was on the other side.
She was troubled for a moment by what she saw; there was a small boy, no older than twelve, on the doorstep with an impatient look on his face. Corinne could make out a pistol on his hip and a rapier in his belt, and he got the distinct feeling she knew him from somewhere. Where, though was the question... but it only took her a moment to place the face. "Shit--" she swore under her breath, her pulse quickening. It was one of Donavan's lackeys, his assassin, she was sure of it. He must be here for she and Viorica... it was the only possibility.
A million things ran through Corinne's mind at once. The Berceuse Malheureuse had discovered where she and Viorica were at last. They had to hide. They had to run. They had to leave the country. But for right now, she didn't know what there was to do, she couldn't possibly answer the door, but there was no way they could get out now, not with that child here, and if they hid in the house, there was the possibility of their mistress handing them over under the pressure of the frightening child assassin... what could they do?
"I'll answer the door." Corinne jumped and turned to see their mistress there, looking, poker-faced, at her and motioning to the door. "Just get out of the way. I'll answer the door."
Corinne fumbled for words, stammering stupidly. "Um-- I--" But, she realized, she didn't have much time, and their mistress was offering to help her. "Yes-- Thank you, ma'am!"
Their mistress rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips. "It's coming out of your pay. Now get lost."
Corinne nodded, curtsied clumsily, then darted into the kitchen, where she found Viorica tending the fire. "No time to explain," she breathed, grasping Viorica by the wrist and pulling her out the servants' back door and to the cellar. As quietly as possible, she opened the doors and lifted Viorica by the waist, setting her down a few stairs before climbing in herself and shutting the doors behind them.
There were no electric lights in the cellar, and Corinne knew they couldn't risk lighting anything, anyway, but some light filtered in from around the cellar doors. Breathing a sigh of relief at finding a decent hiding place, Corinne found Viorica in the dark and held her close, pulling her so that they were both effectively out of sight behind some wine racks. Here, she hoped, they would be safe, short term.
“Is it—?” Viorica whispered, keeping her voice as low as she could. “Did they find us?” She could tell from Corinne’s expression that she’d guessed correctly, and she quickly clamped her mouth shut, burying her face into Corinne’s chest and holding on to her as tightly as she could, praying they wouldn’t be discovered.
Faustino knocked irritatedly on the door to the old mansion he had been sent to, wishing someone would answer already. He knew it was important to get rid of all of the anti-Commandant supporters, especially friends of Christian and Dragomir, but he didn't want to be the one doing the dirty work (imagine, him, second in command of the Berceuse Malheureuse doing such a petty hit!) and he just knew Donavan was off with some stupid whore or else the Commandant...Damnit! This sucked. "Open up!" he called, banging again and hoping he could just kill these stupid bitches and get everything over with...
“My goodness.” Madame Gueren breathed to herself, taking her time to unbolt and open the door, refusing to yield to such rude demands. She was surprised to see a young boy standing on her doorstep and wondered momentarily why Delancy had hesitated in opening the door. “What can I do for you?” Madame Gueren asked wearily, knowing that her servant wouldn’t have acted the way she did if the situation didn’t warrant caution.
Faustino scowled up at the old lady who answered the door, displeased. Still, he had to be a grown-up about it, he knew, or Donavan would be mad at him, and so he sighed. "It has come to my attention that two wanted fugitives are in employment here. I'm with the Berceuse Malheureuse, and I need to search your property, ma'am. If you refuse, you may be charged with purposefully hindering a police investigation, so it's in your best interest to cooperate." He shifted so that his jacket fell back and revealed the gun in its holster on his belt, just for added incentive. He wanted to get this done with, damnit.
“What ever could you be talking about?” Madame Gueren asked coolly, lifting her brows in calm surprise. “I am, of course, always happy to be of service to the Berceuse Malheurese, so please, by all means, come in. However, I can assure you that you will find no fugitives here.” She held the door a little wider and stepped to the side, letting the boy in graciously. “I dare say I know my employees, Monsieur, and I would never hire a criminal.” Madame Gueren intended to be as polite and acquiescing as possible, but she would not let anything happen to her maids. No, she’d grown far too attached to them—not that she’d ever admit it.
Faustino nodded, though unconvinced, striding inside confidently. Looking around the front entrance hall, he glanced into a sitting room before turning back to the old lady. "Where are the servants' quarters? And who else is home right now?" He was suspicious, but this lady wasn't letting up... maybe she was telling the truth. More likely, though, she was only playing dumb... and that made his job so much harder.
“No one. I live by myself, with two maids, and both of them are out.” She folded her hands neatly in front of her and peered down at the boy, wondering how best to handle the situation. “One is on an errand delivering a letter to my sister and won’t be back for quite a while. The other is on personal leave.” The boy looked skeptical, so she added, placing her hands on her hips in irritably, “I can assure you they’re both out. Why else would I answer the door myself?”
Faustino raised an eyebrow, looking a little farther down the hall before turning back to the old lady. "You will keep in mind that you are speaking with an enforcer of the law, and should you be discovered to have been harbouring fugitives or obstructing justice in any way, you may and most likely will face criminal charges?" This old lady really was getting on Faustino's nerves, but he knew he couldn't lose it, he had to be a grown up. If he really couldn't find anything, he'd go back to Donavan all weepy and big eyed and he knew Donavan would never be able to be angry with him. And if that didn't work, no matter who Donavan had been with that day, he could never refuse sexual advances... but usually, for Faustino, tears and whimpering worked, and there was an advantage in that he would still be able to walk tomorrow. "I'm only going to ask you once more. Where are your maids?" He did his best intimidating glower, knowing that the glower of a twelve year old hardly ever worked on anybody but hoping that someday it would.
“Goodness, aren’t I being reasonable? I’ve let you into my home, haven’t? I’ll take you up to the servants’ quarters if you like, though I can’t imagine why anyone would like to visit such drab living spaces, especially since they are, currently, quite unoccupied.” She clicked her tongue lightly, not intimidated by the boy’s glare in the slightest. She was quite aware that he could be dangerous if he wanted, but Madame Gueren trusted him to be reasonable. “I can assure you the two of them are nowhere near this property. Even so, by all means, you may search my home as you please.”
Faustino wasn't in the mood to search, but he knew Donavan would scold him if he didn't, so, grumbling, search he did, but just as the old lady said, there were no servants to be found. He did his best, but they just weren't around, and so, with a pout, he turned on his heel and walked straight back out the door. "I can assure you, ma'am, we'll meet again," he promised haughtily before leaving as abruptly as he had come. Now it was time to go cry to Donavan, and get some cake out of him, if at all possible. That, at least, would cheer him up.
Madame Gueren shut and locked the door behind the boy and sighed, placing her hand over her eyes for just a moment. It hadn’t shown, but every time she heard the boy pull open a door or stomp into a room, she’d imagined the worst, that he’d found her maids. But he was gone, and they were safely hidden, in the cellar, she suspected. Straightening up, she made her way out to the back and leaned over the cellar doors. “You can return to your duties now. He’s gone.” Then, without another word, she turned on her heal and strode back inside.
Slowly, Corinne released her near death-grip on Viorica and straightened slightly. He was gone... that meant they were safe. The whole time, she had barely moved, barely breathed for fear that that assassin might hear, and had held onto Viorica as if the world depended on it. For the first time in some time, her fingers itched for a trigger, her palms for a rapier, but it had been a long, long time since she had held a weapon of any sort. At the bottom of her trunk in their bedroom, she kept a small handgun, the last of her once impressive collection, but she had left it there, beneath layers of clothes and things, terrified that it be found and confiscated. But now everything was all right... they were safe... for now. Where there had been question in her mind before, now, there was only determination: they had to leave the country.
Rising, she pulled Viorica to her feet and pressed a kiss to her cheek, holding her close for a moment, never, not since that very first time when Viorica had been kidnapped by Donavan D'Aubigne, able to get past that moment of relief when she was sure that Viorica would be safe. Sighing, she rested her head against Viorica's for a moment before gathering herself. "We have to leave... we have to get out... now." Her voice was soft, but there was a firmness beneath, some remnant of being an officer in the military once, perhaps, or else stemming from a keen desire to protect her love. "There's nothing else we can do... and I can't lose you, Viorica. We have to leave." Drawing back, she looking into Vorica's eyes, hoping to convey the conviction she felt towards this plan of action.
“Leave?” Viorica asked, unsure. “Where would we go?” She knew they had no reason to stay any longer, but the actual prospect of being on the move, of being without a home or a job or anything frightened her. “Do you mean leave the country…?” Viorica bit her lip softly and looked up into Corinne’s eyes. She trusted her, and knew Corinne would protect her wherever they went or ended up. Still, it was a nerve-racking prospect…and she would feel bad to leave their mistress, who’d been so good to them all along. They might never find someone like her again…then again, if they staid, they’d only be putting her in danger, now that the Berceuse Malheureuse were sure to have an idea where they were. Leaving was…was the best thing for them to do at a time like this.
Corinne nodded solemnly. "I brought money with me, from home. Enough to get us -- comfortably -- out of the country and set up someplace else. We'll get by somehow, you and I... we can start our own business, or something, if we have to." She smiled softly. "I know I'm useless, but you're brilliant at cooking, you know. We could open up a bar, or something. But either way, I'm sure I can get us safely to Hesperia, and possibly Hellas... I can speak both languages, sort-of, and we'll get by. If it's safe, we can even find your family again... I know you miss them." Leaning in, Corinne placed a soft kiss on Viorica's lips before drawing back to meet her eyes again. "But we need to go now, before anyone comes back. Is that... can you live with that, Viorica, love?"
Viorica’s eyes lit up at the prospect of seeing her family again and she leaned in closer to Corinne, holding on as tightly as she could. “I…I think so…but everything has been happening so fast lately. I’m a little afraid, Corinne...” She realized she was still chewing her lip and consciously made herself stop as she continued to look up at Corinne, going over what she’d said. “As long as I’m with you, I know I’ll be all right. I don’t really think I’m the best cook, but, I’d be happy working with you.” Viorica managed a smile and leaned into Corinne’s arms softly. Of course Corinne would have put aside money for a situation like this; she was always prepared for everything, and that was why Viorica knew that no matter where they ended up, she would be taken care of.
"I know you're afraid, and you have every right to be... every time I feel I might lose you, I'm terrified," she admitted, holding Viorica tightly. "But I'm going to protect you, no matter what, and we'll get out of here, you and me, and we'll be happy, somehow, wherever we end up." Taking a step back, taking Viorica's hands into her own, she smiled positively. "When we're settled and we know it's safe, we'll find Tatiana and everyone else, I promise. But for now... we'd better pack. I'll make arrangements tomorrow so that we can leave as soon as possible. Soon, we'll be safe. I promise you." It would be hard and expensive and dangerous, but, no matter what, Corinne would do what she had to. No matter what, she would make sure Viorica was safe, she would protect Viorica, take care of Viorica, even if she had to lay down her own life.
[Further ado: I have so much work to doooooo TT______TT; Why did my life suddenly eat me?!]
Chapter: Alt. End Chapter 2
Claimer: Our GIRLS for once.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: yuri, language, character death, angst...
“Queen To Host Fabulous Ball Celebrating Execution.” Viorica scoffed at the headline and turned the paper over, ignoring the cover story. She didn’t know why she bothered with the paper at all; the headlines rarely changed, and when they did, the reports never bothered to tell the real story anyway. Everything was always diluted and always biased in favor the Commandant’s government. Even so, no one seemed to care. In fact, almost everyone was happy, in spite of the way the former Brigadier General squandered tax money on his bimonthly parties, because in general, the Commandant was a benevolent ruler. Still, no matter what people thought about him, regardless of what good he was doing for the country, the economy, society, Viorica would hate him because he had her brother.
Four years ago, when all the madness started with the Queen’s assassination, Niles and Dragomir did what no one else had the guts to do and stood up to the Commandant, reveling him for what he was and exposing his plot to remove the Queen from power to usurp the throne. In retaliation, the Commandant imprisoned Niles and Dragomir, and no one had seen them since… Hardly anyone even remembered them, and no one, it seemed, could bring themselves to care about what the Commandant had done. By now, after four years, everyone had slipped into complacency.
Even Corrine and herself rarely did anything to fight back any more, the way they had at first…but it was just them now, anyway, and it was hard to keep going when nothing seemed to change. As long as they kept their head down, they had a pretty good life, Viorica had to admit. Not, granted, as good as it had been before, but they had each other and together they worked as maids in a large manor for an elderly wealthy woman. It was good work; she was nice to them and allowed them to share a room—she didn’t seem to mind the fact that they were together in the slightest, which was a relief.
Without Corinne…Viorica knew she wouldn’t have been able to make it through the past four years. The Commandant got Dragomir and Niles early, and right after that, as soon as they could, Tatiana and her family fled the capital to join the twins and their families, and all of them had left the country. Viorica hadn’t heard anything from them since, and being without a family was almost unbearable…but she couldn’t have gone with them, not while Dragomir and Niles were being held without justification.
That’s why they staid, she and Corinne; they’d organized a small force together to try and act against the Commandant, to free Dragomir and Niles and expose the truth to the people. But it was difficult to act against the Commandant; he had the Berceuse Malheureuse working for him as some sort of secret police that operated outside the laws. Under Donavan D’Aubigne, they did whatever they wanted, and the whole city was slowly rotting with the corruption that everyone was too content to acknowledge.
As she scanned the second page, Viorica looked over the last few lines of the cover story and stopped, her breath catching in her throat when her eyes came across a name: Hirlea. She suddenly felt dizzy, sick almost, and faint. With shaky hands, Viorica turned quickly back to the front page and started the article from the beginning, praying that she’d been mistaken, that it was someone else. It…it couldn’t be Dragomir, could it…? They’d kept him alive so long already, why would they—how could they—!? Not now—why now?! Viorica’s mind raced, and after each sentence, she tried, desperately, to deny what she was reading. Dragomir wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. But…it seemed…it seemed they’d executed him the day before yesterday…
It all sunk in very slowly; Dragomir was gone. They could never rescue him…she could never see him again. Never. It was over. Aside from Corinne, the most important person in the world to Viorica was gone, and she couldn’t take it. Viorica crumpled, dropping her head down onto the table and letting her tears stream down her cheeks, onto the paper, blurring the words she’d hoped to never read.
Corinne carefully descended the servants' stairs near the back of the house, her elbow against the wall for support, as both her hands were occupied in holding a breakfast tray of dirty dishes. It was a trick she had figured out sometime in the last four years, after more tripping over skirts and tumbles down the stairs than she cared to recount. She had been an entirely clumsy servant at first, having never even considered the line of work before everything changed. But now she was used to wearing long skirts all the time, as the uniform required, and now she was used to carrying things and arranging things and holding her tongue and looking proper, and her cooking was even improving. She didn't mind the work, per se, Corinne had always been a hard worker, and keeping herself busy kept her mind from wandering to places it shouldn't.
Now, in the early morning, was one of the busiest times of the day, and as she reached the bottom of the stairs and headed down the corridor to the kitchen, Corinne went over in her mind the things that needed to be done before noon. She had just collected the plates from breakfast, which their widowed employer took in her sitting room, and now she needed to collect the newspaper for her to read and then draw up her bath, and then the linens needed to be changed and the bed curtains shaken out, and she needed to make sure everything was in order for lunch being prepared before collecting the newspaper again and starting the laundry... She made it to the kitchen before she finished her list, and distracted herself with poking the fire, which Viorica seemed to have neglected, and placing the dirty dishes and silverware in the sink to be washed. It was only once she had turned to inquire about the newspaper that she noticed Viorica, sobbing quietly into her arms, pressed against the table.
Corinne panicked and was at her side in an instant, bending over her, trying to catch her eyes. "Viorica, what's happened?" she asked desperately, trying to figure out the source of her unhappiness and spotting the newspaper beneath her. "Is it something in the news... have things gotten worse?" Her voice was grim, and there was a very good chance, she knew, but both she and Viorica had come to accept the way things were going downhill... so it had to be something worse. "Please, Viorica, love, please tell me what's wrong..."
“Dragomir…” Viorica sobbed, slowly lifting her head and looking up into Corinne’s eyes even though her vision was blurry with tears. “They…they…” she struggled, but she couldn’t bring herself to voice it, not yet, it was too soon to give the fact that much credence; she still didn’t want to accept it… “Corinne, they—!” Viorica gasped, giving in and pressing into Corinne’s arms, desperate for comfort and reassurance. Corinne was all she had now…
Corinne clasped Viorica close to her, stroking her hair, trying to calm her shaking body. Viorica always came first, and Corinne only began to think about what she had said after she was already doing her best to remedy the symptoms... But Dragomir, Viorica said, he was... could she possibly mean... executed? No, it was too terrible to believe, but what else could there be? Corinne's legs trembled, and she fell into a chair, pulling Viorica with her, still holding her tight. She was stricken to the core, and part of her wanted to crumble, too, but she knew, she had to be strong for Viorica. After all, they were fighting a losing battle... they had started out fighting their way upstream, but now, it really seemed, they were just fighting not to get swept away by the current. As the past few years had gone by, Corinne realized, she had slowly melted into life as it was now, adapted. Because even if they couldn't do anything for anyone else, they had to keep living.
"Shh..." she soothed into Viorica's ear as soon as she trusted her voice not to shake. It still trembled slightly, but she had to go on, Viorica was what was most important. "Come now... he wouldn't have... wouldn't have wanted you to cry, you know that..." That hardly helped, she assumed, when one's brother had been unjustly executed, but she had to do something... "Come on, Viorica, baby, I know it hurts... but we've got to keep moving forward, okay? Come on, come now... that's right, you can cry on me... but you've got to keep fighting for me, too, you've got to stay strong for me... and for your brother's memory..."
“But why?” Viorica sobbed against Corinne’s shoulder. “What are we doing? What do we have left!?” She was shaking violently but she managed to lift her head slowly to look up at Corinne, gripping her tightly for support. “There’s—there’s nothing anymore. Nothing we can do! Not for anyone! It’s all over…”The tears were still streaming from Viorica’s eyes, but now she was angry, too. “They’ve taken everyone! It’s just us, Corinne! They didn’t say anything about Niles, but I just know he’s next! If they took Dragomir, he’s next, I know it! We have nothing now!” Viorica shouted loudly. She wasn’t angry at Corinne...but the emotion was overwhelming. After everything they’d done, in spite of everything they’d done, everyone was dead. Nothing had been worth it. Nothing came of everything they’d tried! All of it was useless! “Julian died trying to do something, trying to help us—his death amounted to nothing!” She dropped her head back down against Corinne’s shoulder and started to cry harder. “So why…” Viorica chocked, weak from yelling, “why do I need to be strong for a memory? Why should we keep fighting when there’s nothing left that we can do?”
Corinne set her jaw, looking down and swallowing hard, not knowing what to say. Viorica had a point... she was right. Nothing they did made any difference, and so many people had died... And Corinne knew that, no matter what, she couldn't lose Viorica. Viorica was all she had now, Viorica was everything to her, was her world. And in the end, Corinne knew, the reason she wanted Viorica to keep trying, to keep going was for herself, it was all selfish reasoning... but she couldn't bear it if Viorica were to give up on everything.
She could feel tears running down her own cheeks, now, and, as hard as she was trying to keep her emotions in check, she couldn't contain them now. "Please, Viorica," she managed to whisper hoarsely, holding her all the more tightly, "Please, if nothing else... you can't give up on everything, you have to keep living for me... because I couldn't possibly go on without you, Viorica..." Clutching Viorica's trembling shoulders and trying not to tremble, herself, she swallowed and tried again. "Please... Viorica... I need you..." That was what she knew to be true, that was all she could sell... because, in truth, Corinne couldn't be sure whether or not she really wanted to keep fighting. It was the right thing to do, she knew, it was what they should do... but more than anything, Corinne wanted to keep Viorica safe, wanted to stay together... and that was best accomplished by lying low... But for now, what she needed to do was to calm and comfort Viorica, and so she focused on that, because without Viorica, she knew, she was nothing.
Viorica gripped Corinne a little tighter and peered up at her through her tears, nodding silently before burying her face once again. She wouldn’t…she would never leave Corinne. Viorica knew she wouldn’t give up, ever, if it meant hurting Corinne…and…and she wanted to stay with Corinne forever. “I love you…” Viorica sniffled finally. “I’m…I’m not going to give up. I’m going to keep going because I have you.” She sat up and wiped feverishly at her eyes, forcing herself to stop crying. “But it really is over…everything we tried…it all just failed. What do we have left besides each other?”
Corinne looked back into her eyes solemnly, sighing before wiping them tenderly with her thumb. "We have the truth... and that's something..." But there was less conviction than she would have liked in her voice, and so she shook her head, trying not to think about it. "But for now... I love you, so please... hang on for me." Lifting Viorica, she rose and set Viorica back in the chair, smiling softly down at her. "Just stay put for now... I'll take care of things." Taking a glass to the faucet, she filled it with water and set it on the table in front of Viorica. "Drink this, or else you'll get dehydrated... and just try to feel better, all right?" Turning back to the table, she noticed the tear-stained state of the newspaper and sighed again with a weary half-laugh. "I'll do my best to explain this away, and then get started on lunch... so you just stay put. All right?" Placing a kiss on Viorica's cheek, she rose, newspaper in hand, and hurried back upstairs to the scolding she knew would be waiting. She wasn't concerned, however, their mistress was really very kind to them, despite her crabby-old-lady exterior; after she made a fuss, Corinne was sure, she would ask if Viorica was all right. It was a good thing, because Corinne didn't need one more thing to worry about... what with Hirlea's death weighing on them both, and the extent to which she knew Viorica was devastated, Corinne had already decided to let Viorica rest for the day, to take on the tasks for herself... but with Viorica to worry about and Hirlea to mourn on top of double the regular work, Corinne knew it was going to be a long day.
Viorica watched as Corinne headed out and slumped forward onto the table once more. She was still crying—probably would be for the rest of the day—but there was less passion now. She wasn’t angry any more, and in fact she was a little surprised she had been at all…she knew they’d tried, done everything they could, and for a long time she’d known that it was basically over…that there was nothing left they could do for anyone. It was just their own survival now…Reading what had happened simply brought home the fact a little harder. Viorica kept crying, but she knew that somehow, she felt less then she had the day they’d first taken Dragomir and Niles away… Four years had passed…everything was different now…and she’d…she’d come to accept the fact that her brother was no longer in her life a long time ago. This was…finally a resolution to all the pain she’d felt before. At least now she could mourn legitimately and move on. She could stop being angry with herself for not being able to rescue him.
Viorica reached forward slowly and wrapped her fingers around the glass of water, just holding it for a few minutes before finally dragging it across the table toward her and taking a long drink. It did help a little…at least with the dryness in her throat and mouth. A cynical part of her was relieved to be rehydrated because it meant she could keep crying, and another part of her thought immediately of Corinne and just how much she cared. Corinne always did so much for her… Viorica knew it was only because of her that Donavan and his goons hadn’t already found and killed them both. Viorica wiped at her eyes quickly and finished the glass, getting to her feet sullenly and still teary. Corinne was definitely the reason they had their job, their whole life together, in fact, but that didn’t mean Viorica didn’t have to help out. Corinne had never been very comfortable with housework, but it was easy for Viorica, and it was the least she could do. Even if she was crying, she could still cook, still make herself useful. After all, it was cooking with Dragomir that Viorica remembered with the most fondness, so perhaps, cooking was the best she could do to honor him now.
There was a knock at the door, and Corinne looked up from the laundry she was folding, setting it aside with a sigh and rising, heading for the front entrance hall. There was another impatient knock, and Corinne knit her brow, wondering who it could possibly be. Their mistress, Madame Gueren, hardly ever got company, and she wondered who could possibly have such urgent business with her. There was yet a third rap just as Corinne reached the door, and, as she had made habit since she and Viorica had gone into hiding, she looked through the peephole to see who was on the other side.
She was troubled for a moment by what she saw; there was a small boy, no older than twelve, on the doorstep with an impatient look on his face. Corinne could make out a pistol on his hip and a rapier in his belt, and he got the distinct feeling she knew him from somewhere. Where, though was the question... but it only took her a moment to place the face. "Shit--" she swore under her breath, her pulse quickening. It was one of Donavan's lackeys, his assassin, she was sure of it. He must be here for she and Viorica... it was the only possibility.
A million things ran through Corinne's mind at once. The Berceuse Malheureuse had discovered where she and Viorica were at last. They had to hide. They had to run. They had to leave the country. But for right now, she didn't know what there was to do, she couldn't possibly answer the door, but there was no way they could get out now, not with that child here, and if they hid in the house, there was the possibility of their mistress handing them over under the pressure of the frightening child assassin... what could they do?
"I'll answer the door." Corinne jumped and turned to see their mistress there, looking, poker-faced, at her and motioning to the door. "Just get out of the way. I'll answer the door."
Corinne fumbled for words, stammering stupidly. "Um-- I--" But, she realized, she didn't have much time, and their mistress was offering to help her. "Yes-- Thank you, ma'am!"
Their mistress rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips. "It's coming out of your pay. Now get lost."
Corinne nodded, curtsied clumsily, then darted into the kitchen, where she found Viorica tending the fire. "No time to explain," she breathed, grasping Viorica by the wrist and pulling her out the servants' back door and to the cellar. As quietly as possible, she opened the doors and lifted Viorica by the waist, setting her down a few stairs before climbing in herself and shutting the doors behind them.
There were no electric lights in the cellar, and Corinne knew they couldn't risk lighting anything, anyway, but some light filtered in from around the cellar doors. Breathing a sigh of relief at finding a decent hiding place, Corinne found Viorica in the dark and held her close, pulling her so that they were both effectively out of sight behind some wine racks. Here, she hoped, they would be safe, short term.
“Is it—?” Viorica whispered, keeping her voice as low as she could. “Did they find us?” She could tell from Corinne’s expression that she’d guessed correctly, and she quickly clamped her mouth shut, burying her face into Corinne’s chest and holding on to her as tightly as she could, praying they wouldn’t be discovered.
Faustino knocked irritatedly on the door to the old mansion he had been sent to, wishing someone would answer already. He knew it was important to get rid of all of the anti-Commandant supporters, especially friends of Christian and Dragomir, but he didn't want to be the one doing the dirty work (imagine, him, second in command of the Berceuse Malheureuse doing such a petty hit!) and he just knew Donavan was off with some stupid whore or else the Commandant...Damnit! This sucked. "Open up!" he called, banging again and hoping he could just kill these stupid bitches and get everything over with...
“My goodness.” Madame Gueren breathed to herself, taking her time to unbolt and open the door, refusing to yield to such rude demands. She was surprised to see a young boy standing on her doorstep and wondered momentarily why Delancy had hesitated in opening the door. “What can I do for you?” Madame Gueren asked wearily, knowing that her servant wouldn’t have acted the way she did if the situation didn’t warrant caution.
Faustino scowled up at the old lady who answered the door, displeased. Still, he had to be a grown-up about it, he knew, or Donavan would be mad at him, and so he sighed. "It has come to my attention that two wanted fugitives are in employment here. I'm with the Berceuse Malheureuse, and I need to search your property, ma'am. If you refuse, you may be charged with purposefully hindering a police investigation, so it's in your best interest to cooperate." He shifted so that his jacket fell back and revealed the gun in its holster on his belt, just for added incentive. He wanted to get this done with, damnit.
“What ever could you be talking about?” Madame Gueren asked coolly, lifting her brows in calm surprise. “I am, of course, always happy to be of service to the Berceuse Malheurese, so please, by all means, come in. However, I can assure you that you will find no fugitives here.” She held the door a little wider and stepped to the side, letting the boy in graciously. “I dare say I know my employees, Monsieur, and I would never hire a criminal.” Madame Gueren intended to be as polite and acquiescing as possible, but she would not let anything happen to her maids. No, she’d grown far too attached to them—not that she’d ever admit it.
Faustino nodded, though unconvinced, striding inside confidently. Looking around the front entrance hall, he glanced into a sitting room before turning back to the old lady. "Where are the servants' quarters? And who else is home right now?" He was suspicious, but this lady wasn't letting up... maybe she was telling the truth. More likely, though, she was only playing dumb... and that made his job so much harder.
“No one. I live by myself, with two maids, and both of them are out.” She folded her hands neatly in front of her and peered down at the boy, wondering how best to handle the situation. “One is on an errand delivering a letter to my sister and won’t be back for quite a while. The other is on personal leave.” The boy looked skeptical, so she added, placing her hands on her hips in irritably, “I can assure you they’re both out. Why else would I answer the door myself?”
Faustino raised an eyebrow, looking a little farther down the hall before turning back to the old lady. "You will keep in mind that you are speaking with an enforcer of the law, and should you be discovered to have been harbouring fugitives or obstructing justice in any way, you may and most likely will face criminal charges?" This old lady really was getting on Faustino's nerves, but he knew he couldn't lose it, he had to be a grown up. If he really couldn't find anything, he'd go back to Donavan all weepy and big eyed and he knew Donavan would never be able to be angry with him. And if that didn't work, no matter who Donavan had been with that day, he could never refuse sexual advances... but usually, for Faustino, tears and whimpering worked, and there was an advantage in that he would still be able to walk tomorrow. "I'm only going to ask you once more. Where are your maids?" He did his best intimidating glower, knowing that the glower of a twelve year old hardly ever worked on anybody but hoping that someday it would.
“Goodness, aren’t I being reasonable? I’ve let you into my home, haven’t? I’ll take you up to the servants’ quarters if you like, though I can’t imagine why anyone would like to visit such drab living spaces, especially since they are, currently, quite unoccupied.” She clicked her tongue lightly, not intimidated by the boy’s glare in the slightest. She was quite aware that he could be dangerous if he wanted, but Madame Gueren trusted him to be reasonable. “I can assure you the two of them are nowhere near this property. Even so, by all means, you may search my home as you please.”
Faustino wasn't in the mood to search, but he knew Donavan would scold him if he didn't, so, grumbling, search he did, but just as the old lady said, there were no servants to be found. He did his best, but they just weren't around, and so, with a pout, he turned on his heel and walked straight back out the door. "I can assure you, ma'am, we'll meet again," he promised haughtily before leaving as abruptly as he had come. Now it was time to go cry to Donavan, and get some cake out of him, if at all possible. That, at least, would cheer him up.
Madame Gueren shut and locked the door behind the boy and sighed, placing her hand over her eyes for just a moment. It hadn’t shown, but every time she heard the boy pull open a door or stomp into a room, she’d imagined the worst, that he’d found her maids. But he was gone, and they were safely hidden, in the cellar, she suspected. Straightening up, she made her way out to the back and leaned over the cellar doors. “You can return to your duties now. He’s gone.” Then, without another word, she turned on her heal and strode back inside.
Slowly, Corinne released her near death-grip on Viorica and straightened slightly. He was gone... that meant they were safe. The whole time, she had barely moved, barely breathed for fear that that assassin might hear, and had held onto Viorica as if the world depended on it. For the first time in some time, her fingers itched for a trigger, her palms for a rapier, but it had been a long, long time since she had held a weapon of any sort. At the bottom of her trunk in their bedroom, she kept a small handgun, the last of her once impressive collection, but she had left it there, beneath layers of clothes and things, terrified that it be found and confiscated. But now everything was all right... they were safe... for now. Where there had been question in her mind before, now, there was only determination: they had to leave the country.
Rising, she pulled Viorica to her feet and pressed a kiss to her cheek, holding her close for a moment, never, not since that very first time when Viorica had been kidnapped by Donavan D'Aubigne, able to get past that moment of relief when she was sure that Viorica would be safe. Sighing, she rested her head against Viorica's for a moment before gathering herself. "We have to leave... we have to get out... now." Her voice was soft, but there was a firmness beneath, some remnant of being an officer in the military once, perhaps, or else stemming from a keen desire to protect her love. "There's nothing else we can do... and I can't lose you, Viorica. We have to leave." Drawing back, she looking into Vorica's eyes, hoping to convey the conviction she felt towards this plan of action.
“Leave?” Viorica asked, unsure. “Where would we go?” She knew they had no reason to stay any longer, but the actual prospect of being on the move, of being without a home or a job or anything frightened her. “Do you mean leave the country…?” Viorica bit her lip softly and looked up into Corinne’s eyes. She trusted her, and knew Corinne would protect her wherever they went or ended up. Still, it was a nerve-racking prospect…and she would feel bad to leave their mistress, who’d been so good to them all along. They might never find someone like her again…then again, if they staid, they’d only be putting her in danger, now that the Berceuse Malheureuse were sure to have an idea where they were. Leaving was…was the best thing for them to do at a time like this.
Corinne nodded solemnly. "I brought money with me, from home. Enough to get us -- comfortably -- out of the country and set up someplace else. We'll get by somehow, you and I... we can start our own business, or something, if we have to." She smiled softly. "I know I'm useless, but you're brilliant at cooking, you know. We could open up a bar, or something. But either way, I'm sure I can get us safely to Hesperia, and possibly Hellas... I can speak both languages, sort-of, and we'll get by. If it's safe, we can even find your family again... I know you miss them." Leaning in, Corinne placed a soft kiss on Viorica's lips before drawing back to meet her eyes again. "But we need to go now, before anyone comes back. Is that... can you live with that, Viorica, love?"
Viorica’s eyes lit up at the prospect of seeing her family again and she leaned in closer to Corinne, holding on as tightly as she could. “I…I think so…but everything has been happening so fast lately. I’m a little afraid, Corinne...” She realized she was still chewing her lip and consciously made herself stop as she continued to look up at Corinne, going over what she’d said. “As long as I’m with you, I know I’ll be all right. I don’t really think I’m the best cook, but, I’d be happy working with you.” Viorica managed a smile and leaned into Corinne’s arms softly. Of course Corinne would have put aside money for a situation like this; she was always prepared for everything, and that was why Viorica knew that no matter where they ended up, she would be taken care of.
"I know you're afraid, and you have every right to be... every time I feel I might lose you, I'm terrified," she admitted, holding Viorica tightly. "But I'm going to protect you, no matter what, and we'll get out of here, you and me, and we'll be happy, somehow, wherever we end up." Taking a step back, taking Viorica's hands into her own, she smiled positively. "When we're settled and we know it's safe, we'll find Tatiana and everyone else, I promise. But for now... we'd better pack. I'll make arrangements tomorrow so that we can leave as soon as possible. Soon, we'll be safe. I promise you." It would be hard and expensive and dangerous, but, no matter what, Corinne would do what she had to. No matter what, she would make sure Viorica was safe, she would protect Viorica, take care of Viorica, even if she had to lay down her own life.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-12-06 01:53 am (UTC)Also, I was amused by Faustino's plans to manipulate Donavan by tears and/or sex. XD He's totally milking his role of shota boy for all it's worth...
And what happened to Julian?? The one-line mention of him is torturing me! XD;;
Good luck with all your work~
no subject
Date: 2008-12-06 02:00 am (UTC)Yeah. XD;; He's kind of caught on to how the world works... but really, he's jealous all the time...
In an attempt to fight back against the BM he got shot. XD; That's all. He died.
Thanks ^^;;
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Date: 2008-12-06 02:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-06 02:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-06 02:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-06 04:50 am (UTC)