Moving out [Vienna/1714/Public]

((Between thinking of writing this and transi's death in WHE, it has been a depressing time :I))

((1714: War of Spanish succession. France a unification of the bourbon monarchy over France and Spain, but it would mean disposing of the Hapsburg monarch. Civil war erupts in Spain, one side in favor of Charles II (aka sexy face) of house of Hapsburg and the other in favor of the Bourbon king. Within 30 more years Austria will undergo the same war. Franziska's unborn child (the symbol of unknown outcome) is miscarried at 6 months when she is but 15, a young alliance torn apart. This is the end of Hapsburg Spain))

Dead. They told her it was dead. It.

When she had screamed for a nurse that night it had felt like a lightning bolt had ripped through her, her nightgown and the polished wood floors stained with ominous red as she hung onto the bedpost like she was dying, that's what they had called the child. It. It's only the first. You can try it again. But it seemed it wasn't working, this trying again. And suddenly she was again the alien in the country. The one who shouldered all the blame. But the physicians had warned the family she was weak from the start. She was too small, too fragile to support another life. The physician had told her father, who promptly asked him to leave and told her that if she wanted what was best for their family she would give the king a son. But she had had no idea what the making of such a thing entailed at that age. Madrid, however, was five years older. He knew; she didn't. It had been the most harrowing experience of her life. She never wanted it again, that pain, that fear, that vulnerability. But she had to, even after she had gotten rid of 'it'; for her father, for her country, for her own reputation.

Nothing was working. They had lost Spain. And it was her fault, from some biological working or some divine justice for something she had no inkling of committing, it was her fault. She sank deeper into her pillow, still weak, still sick. They had ceased to offer help, or medical attention, simply because she was no longer queen. The only luxury they allowed was someone to pack her bags. So she would leave faster.

But for once in this miserable quicksand of a marriage, she had been happy. Happy knowing that in this world so different than her own, there had been another that would come and love her unconditionally. One that she could care for and nurture for her entire life. But God had taken it away from the Holy Roman Empress. The irony made her stomach churn. A title was a title, but she did not believe in any god anymore. Neither would she in the years to come. Franziska stared down at her hefty golden crucifix necklace with a look of disgust. The Lord declared no idol would replace him. But what carpenter's son would condone his likeness in gold and gems? A golden idol if there ever was one.

Tired but too restless to sleep, she watched the movers work in and out of the bedroom door, listening to the weak thump of her heart in her ears as if maybe there could be one beating in tandem. But no... 'it' was dead.

((I am sobbing right now. SOBBING. /just now seeing Transi's death :'( And this--asldfjksslfj I was just going over an account of a doctor in Hiroshima who couldn't deliver a pregnant woman's baby as her dying wish. RIGHT BEFORE READING THIS. Why am I being hit with a sadness train--/weeps forever))

((Yus, I was emotional writing it XD but it just so happened that Cherry died right when we were discussion that there needs to be a deathfor the revolution, and what better than a scary mafia man with nothing else to live for? And I'm a sucker for romantic drama anyways XD .......:I holy cow, that is sad ): HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY--/shot))

((Same here; I have a preoccupation with tragedies, for whatever reason. It makes me so depressed why do I love it so much. :'( No, this is perfect for Valentines' Day, because I have all this chocolate, you see--it's like this, but with brownies and truffles. :I))

((That's a good question XD because I'm hardly ever sad and I hate being sad-- then I read/wrote these things XD fffff that is me in the window B) LMAO today in creative writing class we had a valentines party and I was all psyched because it was my birthday and people sang to me and all that stuff, and my teamed passes around a bowl of conversation hearts. Everyone around me gets 'I love you' or 'be mine'. Why do I get? 'NO WAY.' /FOREVERALONE))

((I have to stay away from sad stuff usually, or else I will dwell on it forever. Hence my leaving WHE. XD Actually, this past Saturday, my mom made me cry talking about how the world/society might end. :I Everyone is taking advantage of my melancholy these days. /SIGH. And fffffuuuuuuu--I offer my condolences. XD Somehow that vaguely reminds me of the time my friend and I took a 'What Disney Character Are You?' quiz. We both picked all of the exact same answers except for one, and I ended up getting Jane from Tarzan while she got the witch from Snow White. XD))

I am surrounded by sad forums lately XD me and panic are trying to revive the school forum but idk if it'll work ):

It's not current things that make me cry, just music and some movies XD like, there's a handful of songs that I can't listen to 5 seconds of without sobbing XD one of them, "Stand by you" by the Pretenders (coincidentally a great Transi/cherry song XD) is another song I learned as a baby and it played in a Macy's a few months ago and I had two options: run out or hide in a clothes rack and cry XD I chose the clothes rack XD another time my dad played it in the car rigt as I was going through a Wendy's drivethru just to troll me :I XD

WHAT. Jane is not even a princess. Jane is the one with the "carreer"-- WHATEVER THAT IS-- :I If that happened to me, I would be so depressed XD

((FFUUU- need to comment on this after school is over. B) ))

fffff--I was under the impression that that forum was dead. XD I might go on occasionally, idk really

Movies will do that to me, definitely. Songs not as much, unless it's the first time I'm hearing it/am thinking of something else sad at the same time. XD ...Oh, except for that one song by Bright Eyes--fuck, I don't even remember the name--that you used in a comic for Phyu once. I went and looked up the lyrics, and now all I have to do is recite them to myself to get choked up. :I xD

lol Jane is way too adventureous to be like me, but I'd still rather get her than a witch. XD Also, I forgot, I took the test again while acting more like my internets persona, and ended up with Gaston. I laughed so hard that I cried. XD

There was a loud click of heels, the steps were delicate, but they echoed through the hall. Auguste was accustomed to his heels, he wore them greater than any man or any woman ever could. He may have not completely won this war, but he looked the victor. He was to here to assist his King, and the new Philip V of Spain. He did after all, under Louis XIV, win the Bourbon rule in Spain. Now Madrid was waiting. He did not own this house. France and Spain were not to merge, but this house now did belong to a 'relative.' Auguste could just as well have owned it.

Some Spanish servant was delivering him to Madrid, Auguste followed her- until he saw the movers in the halls. There were dresses, corsets, jewelry, fabulous women things. He was good at keeping an unchanged expression- but he had to smile at this. Was this the property of the ousted Hapsburg? He had heard of her miscarriage, he'd never really seen her, only in those idealistic paintings, and he only knew of her from word of mouth. Auguste stopped at the slightly open door. He waited for someone to open it for him. These people were at servitude to the Bourbons now.

The door was open for him. He walked in. Those servants in the room lowered their heads and bodies to him, giving him the respect he deserved. One girl was in the room. It was the girl he'd seen in pictures, the girl he had heard so much about; Vienna. She looked ugly in those portraits, she looked even uglier now. She was weak, small, needy, just like a child. Auguste could only pity Madrid. His heels were louder as he walked to the fallen Queen.

A charming smile was plastered onto his face. He stood above her. He was only a few years older, but he did not look it. She was a girl, but he- he was a man, a strong, powerful and victorious man. He was the image of power, of greatness and of grandeur. He was like his Sun King. He was Versailles, the center of France, the center of the world. He carried himself with such dignity. He was only recently out of battle, but his clothing was pressed like he just put it on. His wig sat on his head like a crown.

"My condolences, mademoiselle-" an elegant hand posed itself out towards her. He waited for her to bow down, like the rest of the servants. He even gave her the honour to kiss his hand.

((lmaooo, I feel like I'm intruding on you and Plum's convo.))

No, I will have the dishonor of intruding by saying how much a magnificent bastard Versailles is. I want to punch him with an oven mitt (if that makes any sense XD).

and poor, poor Franze :C She is so pitiful I want to put her in my hoodie pouch and keep her safe forever. /creep

((pffft lmao, oppy, this is Versailles, he's the Sun King, he can intrude on any convo that he wants--/shot))

((@plum- the song is "the joy in discovery/the joy in forgetting" XD I always lose it at his song "no lies just love". Yeah, gaston B) the best Disney prince-- /shot

@mace-- ffff XD))

Fränze decided she was happy to be home, no matter what would happen. She would probably there be treated like a pariah, just like in Spain. But did it really matter if she couldn't run away from it? She could handle it-- she hoped.

She heard heels near the door. Expensive heels. No one in her standing should see her like this-- sick, disheveled... She thought she had ordered that no one royal was to intrude, not even those of her own family. Then again.... She wasn't really listened to anymore.

Her embarrassment only heightened when she saw who it was. She knew the face, but couldn't put a name to it. Still, he was poised, handsome, rich, charming-- she could feel her cheeks turn red, color seen on them for the first time in a while.

He held out his hand-- she assumed it only meant she put hers in his so that he kiss it. Which she did. She wasn't used to serving other people, in fact she didn't even bow. At home she was treated as delicately and as valuably as a doll. She had hardly an inkling about how this man saw her. "Danke, Herr..." Was all she could say. The meeting was a little unorthodox.

The smile on his face dropped, as did his hand. Did this girl not understand how to give the respect that he was so deserving of? She must have known who he was-, there was a 'Herr-' and her voice dropped off. He knew her, how could she not know him? It was true that Auguste was only recently important- as compared to places like Paris or Vienna, who had long histories of power. But right now he was the center of the world. He, as proven by this incident, mattered to the world much more than Vienna, more than Madrid, more than anyone. He held the Sun King, the world had to know him. She must have been ignorant to the world- no, ignorant to the sun. His opinion dropped even lower of his pitiful enemy.

"Auguste Yves-Marie de Bourbon. Versailles." his smile returned, and he placed his hand out for her lips once more. He didn't want her lips to be on it, but it was something that must be done. Now, now she would have to bow. It was a little believable if she didn't know his face- he only had so many paintings circulating around. Anyways, he liked to keep most of them for himself.

She had to know his name.

ah. Versailles, that was who it was. No wonder he was so good-looking. She had never in her life been legitimately attracted to any man (of course due to the fact that she had only ever been with one and it was the most painful experience for her life so far), but how could she try and court him if he didn't even know procedure?

Auguste had his pride-- she had centuries and centuries of habit. Confused as to why he retracted his hand, she put hers lightl into his again and watched him inquiringly. "Herr Bourbon... A good man kisses a lady's hand when they meet." if he was as refined as he advertised, why didn't he know that?

She smoothed out her bedsheets and her hair that was in a messy bun, some of it hanging over her face. "Please forgive my appearance..." Her smile dropped. "I'm afraid I'm still in mourning." It hadn't been that long, after all. A week, at most. It was all hazy to her. "It seems wrong to present myself this way-- but I wonder what even compelled you to walk in?" She was curious. The last week she had been a mess. No one had entered but a few brave servants. She was eager to beautify herself again once she returned to her palaces. But she had no idea what else was waiting there.

"And the best losers know to bow down to those who have defeated them," he smiled, he did allow his pride to disperse, so he could gently kiss her hand. He did not want to, but it was not at all showing defeat, it was just showing manners. He had kissed the hands of prostitutes- he was not proving Vienna better than any of them.

He continued to smile as she cleaned herself, and her room up. He had been hoping for her miscarriage. It was not that he did not have sympathy for human life, no, it was just that the baby could not reasonably live. That would be against French interests. It would be bad for him. He had hoped, getting into this war, that the stresses would wreck the girl's womb. It did.

"That's very understandable- as I said, you have my condolences. It's a shame that your child could not return with you to Austria." That was a shame, but even then the baby would have been too much of a threat. It could claim the power over Madrid, that Auguste believed he legitimately had.

"I've heard of your beauty before-" He did, but he could not see it for himself. Not even her portraits had the image of beauty he wanted. She was small, weak looking, but her features were disgustingly Germanic. "and I so wished to see the woman who I will be replacing." No, Auguste wasn't going to be Madrid's wife, but he represented the Bourbons, just as much as Vienna represented the Habsburg.

"I was on my way to visit Madrid- but I had heard so much about you, I couldn't pass you up so easily.."

Fränze wasn't daft. She had an exemplary education, and could turn a phrase on it's head in a moment. One must learn to think quickly if one has Had to cover the likes of a corrupt church and unruly subjects.

She retracted her hand away coldly. They may have lost, in simplest terms, but had gained far more in land. "And how do you measure loss or victory, Herr Auguste?" She looked away from him. He was too young to know how to charm well. She had just seen through his facade.

Then he mentioned her child again, and her face fell. "Yes, well... When I leave you are stuck with this miserable place that turns children into vampirs and mothers into coffins."

He'd said something of her beauty-- but that didn't amount to much. There was no compliment after it, no finesse. "So go visit him. See how indifferent he is to the death of his only child."

"For France, this may have not been a victory- but who's 'child' is now on your old throne? Who's dynasty has inserted itself into Spain? The Sun King does not lose." There really was no definite loser or winner in this war. This was not a 'victory', but even Louis XIV's 'loses' could end up as wins. He smiled, even though she treated him a way she should not have. It was infuriating, Auguste was disgusted by her, but he gave no indication of these emotions. This was a horrid, and rotten girl. She acted like a child, she was a child.

He had to laugh at her next comment, he did not mean to, but the idea sounded so absurd. "Miserable-" Auguste stared at the place. "I'm afraid you're only returning to misery. Anyways- I have no intentions of living at your ex-husband's residence. I would be honoured to have him join my court. He's a charming man. I'm sure our new ties can only be a benefit for the both of us. He knows that the Austrians- and the Hapsburgs are a dying power. I am already the center of the world. You could have amounted to that once- but your Kings could never measure the the Sun King. No man can grieve for a child that is replaced by a better child. There are other chances, other women, other children- more mature, and more fit for birthing." Her child probably would have ended like Charles II. "He can find them with me."

His smile gave a fake turn of sincerity. He gave a slight bow. "Really, mademoiselle, I honestly do grieve for you, but this was only for the better. This is Europe- something you no longer control. Madrid is simply recognizing this. "

She was about to quip that she had been the center of Europe when she was still in diapers. She was about to knock him down a peg for all he assumed and the false haughtiness he carried from being a spoiled boy (no more spoiled than she, but she had gone through the fires, he had not), before his words made her comebacks catch in her throat in a wet lump.

Tears stung at the edges of her eyes. She could not cry publicly, she knew that. She could not let him win. She clamped her thumb down lightly between her teeth (a step up from sucking her thumb) and remembered it all. The stabbing pain, the cries for help she could barely utter. How she was holding onto her bedpost for dear life as she felt that bitter red trickle down her legs, slowly at first, then in a painful rush. She had collapsed to the ground, her nightgown stained red, telltale of her shame.

What did he know about that kind of loss? Nothing. Nothing at all. One tear rolled down her cheek from sparkling eyes. "Go, please." She said, trying her bes to keep her voice even. "I no longer desire your company."

Had he gone too far? Probably. This was the enemy, though. He had all the reason to be harsh. Did she not see him as an enemy? It was his job to be charming, but an enemy could only be so charming to his opponent. His opponent may have been a pathetic, weak, child, but that was no reason for sympathy. Louis XIV gave Auguste strict training, Auguste had learned to have no weakness, or at least, no visible weakness.

She was crying, tears that she deserved. Auguste's words lashed out the punishment that she needed.

"Mademoiselle-" he paused, to lift her delicate hand. He again, kissed it, to show his 'respects'. "As you wish-" A smile, and his heels echoed out of the room. He head off to wait for Madrid, now.

Had he made a good impression on the Austrian girl? He hoped so. Auguste was newer to this world than he seemed. He came from a despicable lesser nobility, he was a son of France, as was Paris, but he used to be nothing compared to the larger cities. He was the highest noble in France now, and a firm believer that you must start from something to be something. There was no advancement by merit in his book, there was only advance by birth. Yet, he himself had advanced by merit. It was amazing that Louis XIV even accepted him and raised him like the Father Auguste saw him to be. He was completly unheard of to the rest of Europe before Louis XIV put his court with him.

Now he had replaced Vienna, and he was going to claim his prize. A new Bourbon, Madrid.