Sad
Title: Sad
Fandom: Elisabeth
Chars: Death, Rudolf
Which version?: originalvienna!Death. Possibly 2005vienna!Death - in an unusually benign form.
Rating: G
Summary: Death visiting Rudolf.
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The little boy's voice, high and clear, interrupts him. "Why are you sad?"
Death looks quickly over his shoulder - his first thought is that there must be somebody behind him - but he soon realizes that the boy is addressing him, that the boy can see him and, even more incredible, has concluded that he is sad.
He frowns and sits up a little, hugging his knees. It's a position that might have unnerved an adult spectator, given that he was doing it high up on the wall rather than on the floor. "I'm not sad - I'm never sad."
The boy just watches. "You look sad. Do you want me to sing to you?"
Death wonders if this is what people mean when they say they feel touched. He smiles a little but carefully doesn't laugh, because he knows the boy would be offended. "No... thank you."
"Oh. Because I was thinking of how you sing or tell me stories sometimes... and I don't know any stories except for ones you already told me, so..."
"I thank you, but I'm not sad. I'm just..." He cocks his head. The boy is probably too young to know frustrated or rejected or powerless or scorned. "I miss your mother," he explained at last. "Because I call for her, but she doesn't want to come."
"She doesn't come to me, either." Rudolf climbs up on the bed, kicking his feet against it idly. "You said she never will."
"That's right, little boy - she'll never come to you." Death's smile has grown wolfish but he doesn't notice it; he's gleeful now, spreading his knees so he can reach between them to drum on the wall. "But me, she's coming to me. Eventually she'll come, she will, everyone comes to me sometime!"
By the end he's banging savagely, and Rudolf just watches with wide solemn eyes. "I'll come to you now, if you like," he offers right away. "Would that make you feel better?"
Death cocks his head; he can't remember ever being asked such a question before. He takes refuge in the obvious: "You will come sometime," he agrees. He rises, walks down the wall to the floor, and goes to crouch by Rudolf's bed. "It may make you feel better. Sometimes that's how it works."
When he holds out his hand, Rudolf takes it without hesitation. "Well, when you call me, I'll come," he promises, then waits expectantly.
Death sighs, smiles. He leans close and rubs his forehead against the child's. Their faces are so near, their lips almost touching...
But he pulls back - tonight is not the night. "And when you call me, I'll come, too," he promises back. He glances to the bed.
Rudolf obeys the unspoken order and crawls under the covers. "Will you kiss me goodnight?" he asks innocently.
Death pinches out the candle, smiling. "Not today."
Some years later.
Rudolf was at his desk, cleaning and loading his gun, when the knock came. He looked up, all ready to say come in, but the door was already opening. "You?"
"Yes. Tonight's the night."
Rudolf swallowed and said the first thing to come into his head: "Are you sure?" The only answer was a slow nod, a smile, and he rose. "Well... I'm ready."
"Of course you are - or I wouldn't have come." He held out both hands, and Rudolf took them solemnly.
"Will it hurt?"
"Do you want it to?"
The young man pulled away. "What kind of a question is that?"
Death reached for him again and held him more securely. "When I first asked your mother," he explained, "She said: I want to be torn from life with the force of a thousand tempests someday. I want all the world and God Himself to hear my screams." He was smiling fondly with the memory.
Rudolf nodded. "I'm not my mother. I don't want pain."
"You've had enough," Death agreed. "I understand. For you it will be quiet... gentle, even. Come here." He drew him in, cradling Rudolf's head to his chest the way he had all those years ago.
Rudolf relaxed against him, breathing in the familiar smell, feeling the familiar vibrations when Death began to hum. He let himself be guided to the ground, laid down while Death stretched out over him.
He looked up into Death's eyes, and though he was still murmuring reassurances there was a hunger there now, something dark but also exciting that Rudolf hadn't seen before...
Out of nowhere he grinned and reached up to trace Death's lips with a finger. "Is a kiss really all it takes?"
Death chuckled softly and nipped at his hand. "Yes," he said. "A kiss is all."
Rudolf shifted under him. "Pity."
Death settled down more comfortably, covering him now with more weight.
"But of course," he purred against Rudolf's neck, "There's nothing wrong with warming the blood a little, before we cool it forever." He flicked his tongue out and began licking his way across Rudolf's throat.
"A little?!" the prince gasped. He made an uncoordinated grab and got his hand tangled deep in the silky hair.
Death laughed again. "You want me."
"Well of course." Nuzzling blindly into his collar, Rudolf eventually found his neck in turn. He kissed and sucked, and felt a rush of pride to have made Death himself hiss with pleasure.
After a moment Death pulled back to look him in the eyes. "It's time now, Rudolf. You're ready."
It was the first time in forever that Death had said his name, and then he was ready, all the way.
"Yes," he breathed, shivering as cool fingers brushed his cheeks.
"You want me," Death whispered, directly into his mouth.
"With all my heart I want you. Death. I...want... death."
"Good." Their lips met, for the first time, and Rudolf had just a moment to enjoy it.
Then he went still. Death stayed where he was, holding him, as the magnificent warmth slowly faded away.
When the body was quite cool he stood up, certain of one thing:
He was sad.
The End.