Taking Measures (Rudolf, Taaffe)
So, I'm trying to stop sucking at actually posting my finished stories. This one was written a few months back and seek_shangrila betaed it also a long time ago, but somehow I haven't gotten finished with the corrections and changes. Here it's now. Short fic of Rudolf and Taaffe, gen as far as I know (thank goodness). I'll try to get around to posting certain other fics some time soon, too.
Title: Taking Measures
Fandom: By enough stretch, sort of Rudolf the musical. Meaning mainly that the Taaffe here is based mostly on Homonnay Zsolt's version of him. My Rudolf is firmly my own, based on history, though he has an odd tendency to look like Dolhai Attila in my mind, and the story has nothing in particular to do with the musical's version of Rudolf's life and takes place before any of it happens.
Rating: PG-13, I guess, for mentions of suicide and mental issues.
Characters: Rudolf, Taaffe
Summary: Taaffe comes to talk to Rudolf after having been visited by Mizzi Caspar.
Rudolf was sitting in his study, supposedly working but in reality drowning his sorrows in a glass of brandy, when Taaffe appeared. Rudolf tried to quickly hide the glass, but it was too late.
"Not that it's any of my business, your highness," Taaffe said, sitting on his writing desk, "but you might want to consider cutting down on your drinking."
"You're right, Count Taaffe, it's none of your business," Rudolf replied, and resumed looking at the report lying on his desk next to where Taaffe had seated himself. Not that he remembered what he had been reading before he opened the brandy bottle. It was getting harder to do things like that, remembering or thinking. His brain seemed occupied by other things, as though it was half living in the next world already.
"In a way it is," Taaffe said with that amiable voice which Rudolf knew didn't contain a drop of real friendliness. "The health of the heir to the throne concerns us all - and me especially as the Prime Minister. And the way Your Highness is going, by all reports, I begin to seriously worry about your health." He managed to put such concern into his voice that Rudolf almost felt a twinge of guilt before he remembered that Taaffe didn't mean it. They'd never been able to stand each other, either politically or personally, and Taaffe would probably just be glad if he wasn't around anymore.
"Now that you're done lecturing me on my drinking habits, did you have any serious business to attend to by visiting me?" Rudolf inquired coldly, pushing his papers away in a manner he hoped would suggest he was impatient to return to them as soon as Taaffe stopped occupying his time.
"Well, if you don't consider that serious business, I do have something even more serious that is the reason why I'm calling on you at this hour."
"Then let me hear it." Not that he wanted to. But it would be the only way to get rid of Taaffe.
Instead of speaking immediately, Taaffe watched him for a while with an expression of deepening concern and sympathy that Rudolf knew to be fake. It was as though Taaffe was searching for the right words to express what he had to say, though Rudolf was sure that whatever it was, he had already decided just how he was going to say it. Finally Taaffe began, in a low and quiet voice:
"I was visited by a certain Fräulein Caspar tonight. She wished to speak to me of you."
Rudolf felt a nasty empty hole open inside himself. So Mizzi had talked. Not only had she refused his request, but she had told about it to his worst enemy. He supposed he should have known it would happen, but he had thought Mizzi loved him.
"I'm sure you know what she wished to tell me," Taaffe said.
"No," Rudolf lied and did not look at Taaffe. Then Taaffe leaned towards him, took hold of his chin and lifted it so Rudolf had to look at him. He wanted to pull away.
"She was very concerned about your safety," Taaffe said and looked at him seriously. "Terrified, even. She comported herself with a grace admirable for a woman of her class, but I could tell she was frantic with worry. She believes you had requested her to die with you in the Hussar Temple."
Rudolf wanted to open his mouth and say "she lied" but he could he could not. He could accuse Stephanie of delusions or lies, but not Mizzi. He loved her too much. So he stayed silent.
"Poor woman," Taaffe said gently. "She appeared to be the most devoted to you and wished anxiously to save your life, which she believes is now threatened by your own self. It's a desperate test of love indeed if you measure love by willingness to die with you. Too desperate and unjust. Certainly love is not measured by the willingness to let you die but by the desire to let you live."
It was ridiculous to hear Taaffe talking of love, Rudolf thought. He said nothing. Taaffe released his hold of Rudolf's chin, but bent even closer to look him straight into the eye. His mere presence felt disgusting. Rudolf wished to flee, but he felt nailed to the spot.
"Is there anything you wish to tell me, Your Highness?" Taaffe asked in a whisper.
"No," Rudolf replied hoarsely.
"Is there any help that you need? Anything I or someone else can do for your well-being - something that does not involve dying with you in the Hussar Temple?"
Rudolf found laughable the idea that accidentially came from Taaffe's choice of words - that Rudolf might want him to die with him at the Hussar Temple. Though that would rid the world of one dangerous pest, so perhaps it would be worth it, he thought wryly. But he neither said that out loud nor laughed. He only shook his head, but failed to shake off Taaffe, who leaned still closer.
"There really isn't?"
Rudolf could feel Taaffe's breath on his face. He wanted to turn away, push Taaffe away, anything. The man had no business invading into his private matters, trying to pry into his soul which he would never understand at all.
"No," he said icily and glared at Taaffe, trying to will him to go away. "Nothing."
"I wish you would tell me if there was." A pause. "Your safety really concerns us all."
Suddenly Rudolf could not bear holding back all the thoughts inside him. "Like you care," he spat out. "You'd just be happy if I did go and die. Would rid you of one persistent annoyance, and give you a chance to show how well you would deal with the aftermath."
Taaffe sat up and looked at him levelly, and finally said: "What does it matter what I think?"
When Rudolf said nothing, Taaffe got off the table, walked behind him, and laid his hands on Rudolf's shoulders. They felt heavy. Rudolf felt like shuddering.
"What does it matter?" Taaffe asked again, quietly. "Like you, I am a servant to the Crown." He bent down closer. "And it will matter to Austria if her Crown Prince dies such a horrible, shameful death. The dynasty would perhaps never recover from such a shock. No matter my personal feelings about the Crown Prince, this is not acceptable."
Rudolf felt the words on the skin of his neck. It was as though Taaffe was breathing doom on him with every syllable.
"To say nothing of the blow it would be to the Emperor," Taaffe whispered. "And the Empress."
The mention of his mother made Rudolf try to jerk away. She and Taaffe had never been able to stand each other, any more than Rudolf and Taaffe had. He had no business mentioning her.
"Can we agree, dear Crown Prince, that there will be no more antics such as this?" Taaffe asked. His hands continued to hold firmly onto Rudolf's shoulders, perhaps trying to make sure that Rudolf would not bolt out and escape. "No more asking women - not Crown Princesses, not demi-mondaines - to have a bullet shot through their head with you. Fewer late-night drinking and brooding sessions would do you good, too. Think about your parents. You would bring them such sorrow, you already do with the way you behave nowadays. Why not try to make them happy instead? They need it."
"When did they ever think of me or try to make me happy?" Rudolf muttered darkly before he realised that he had said it aloud.
Taaffe said nothing, and Rudolf thought that for just a moment, the fingers squeezed harder on his shoulders. He didn't know what was happening. Then Taaffe straightened up and said quietly, in a voice unlike himself:
"Perhaps they tried."
Right, Rudolf thought. Perhaps they tried. And if he tried to do something, but failed, when was that ever enough for anyone?
When Rudolf said nothing, Taaffe relaxed the hold of his hands and said in quite a different voice:
"I personally think it would be a shame to have to trouble the Emperor with such matters. He already has it hard with all his duties, and surely this would weigh on him heavily if he learned of it. We cannot afford to upset him so. And the same goes for the Empress. As we all know, her state of mind has been preciously fragile in the past years. It would be horrible for her to hear something like this, I don't know what it would do to her. Can we agree that there is no need to bring this to their attention? Do you promise that?"
Rudolf felt trapped. He suddenly knew for sure that the dark cave was closed and there was no way out for him. He could only nod and say: "Yes."
"Good." Rudolf could hear that Taaffe was smiling. Then he bent down again and whispered to Rudolf's ear: "And no more troubling Fräulein Caspar or the Crown Princess with such dreadful requests. Best you forget such thoughts entirely. Forget them in the arms of Fräulein Caspar, or hunting in the forest, whatever you will, as long as you will put them well behind you. They are not becoming of a Crown Prince." Taaffe paused, seemed to regard Rudolf for one more moment, and finally said: "Or a human being."
Then he straightened, pulled his hands off Rudof's shoulders, and walked back around his desk. Looking at Rudolf, he said: "I trust that I do not need to call on you again on such matters."
"No, you won't," Rudolf said dully.
"That's good." Taaffe took the half-full brandy glass from his desk and drank it. "Fräulein Caspar has of course been instructed to not speak to anyone of what she told us, so you needn't worry." He took Rudolf's brandy bottle from the corner of the desk. "And I shall take this, you need no more tonight. Well, goodnight to you, and I wish you pleasant dreams and a healthier tomorrow."
He saluted Rudolf briskly, and then was off.
Rudolf glared at the door after Taaffe had closed it. The Prime Minister's steps echoed in the corridor as he walked away. With him Rudolf felt inexplicably as though some last salvation had walked away from him. He didn't know why he thought that. He hated Taaffe and would never expect any help from him. And he knew that whatever Taaffe had just said, he would not consider it any kind of a loss if Rudolf died. Like nobody else, he supposed.
He angrily pushed his chair away from the table, rose, and went to his cupboard. From there he took out another brandy bottle, opened it and poured himself a new glass.
"The fool," he muttered. "As if I kept only one."
As he drank, he thought of his promise to Taaffe. No, Taaffe would not need to call on him on such business again. As much as he loved Mizzi, it was clear that she could not give him the one thing he needed. She would try to save his life again and again when there was nothing worth saving in it. And she would tell to anybody she could if she thought it might help him. It was kind of her and he blessed her for it, but it meant that he would only be more closely watched to make things difficult for him, and she in turn might be in danger of some serious consequences from someone who didn't like her meddling with such affairs, if she kept on with her deeds of heroism. No, for the best of them both, from now on Mizzi would have to be less in his trust.
It was time to find someone whose love for him would be measured in her willingness to let him die. Someone who would not tell, someone who would not try to save him, but would be willing to be the one thing he wanted: a companion for death.
Title: Taking Measures
Fandom: By enough stretch, sort of Rudolf the musical. Meaning mainly that the Taaffe here is based mostly on Homonnay Zsolt's version of him. My Rudolf is firmly my own, based on history, though he has an odd tendency to look like Dolhai Attila in my mind, and the story has nothing in particular to do with the musical's version of Rudolf's life and takes place before any of it happens.
Rating: PG-13, I guess, for mentions of suicide and mental issues.
Characters: Rudolf, Taaffe
Summary: Taaffe comes to talk to Rudolf after having been visited by Mizzi Caspar.
Rudolf was sitting in his study, supposedly working but in reality drowning his sorrows in a glass of brandy, when Taaffe appeared. Rudolf tried to quickly hide the glass, but it was too late.
"Not that it's any of my business, your highness," Taaffe said, sitting on his writing desk, "but you might want to consider cutting down on your drinking."
"You're right, Count Taaffe, it's none of your business," Rudolf replied, and resumed looking at the report lying on his desk next to where Taaffe had seated himself. Not that he remembered what he had been reading before he opened the brandy bottle. It was getting harder to do things like that, remembering or thinking. His brain seemed occupied by other things, as though it was half living in the next world already.
"In a way it is," Taaffe said with that amiable voice which Rudolf knew didn't contain a drop of real friendliness. "The health of the heir to the throne concerns us all - and me especially as the Prime Minister. And the way Your Highness is going, by all reports, I begin to seriously worry about your health." He managed to put such concern into his voice that Rudolf almost felt a twinge of guilt before he remembered that Taaffe didn't mean it. They'd never been able to stand each other, either politically or personally, and Taaffe would probably just be glad if he wasn't around anymore.
"Now that you're done lecturing me on my drinking habits, did you have any serious business to attend to by visiting me?" Rudolf inquired coldly, pushing his papers away in a manner he hoped would suggest he was impatient to return to them as soon as Taaffe stopped occupying his time.
"Well, if you don't consider that serious business, I do have something even more serious that is the reason why I'm calling on you at this hour."
"Then let me hear it." Not that he wanted to. But it would be the only way to get rid of Taaffe.
Instead of speaking immediately, Taaffe watched him for a while with an expression of deepening concern and sympathy that Rudolf knew to be fake. It was as though Taaffe was searching for the right words to express what he had to say, though Rudolf was sure that whatever it was, he had already decided just how he was going to say it. Finally Taaffe began, in a low and quiet voice:
"I was visited by a certain Fräulein Caspar tonight. She wished to speak to me of you."
Rudolf felt a nasty empty hole open inside himself. So Mizzi had talked. Not only had she refused his request, but she had told about it to his worst enemy. He supposed he should have known it would happen, but he had thought Mizzi loved him.
"I'm sure you know what she wished to tell me," Taaffe said.
"No," Rudolf lied and did not look at Taaffe. Then Taaffe leaned towards him, took hold of his chin and lifted it so Rudolf had to look at him. He wanted to pull away.
"She was very concerned about your safety," Taaffe said and looked at him seriously. "Terrified, even. She comported herself with a grace admirable for a woman of her class, but I could tell she was frantic with worry. She believes you had requested her to die with you in the Hussar Temple."
Rudolf wanted to open his mouth and say "she lied" but he could he could not. He could accuse Stephanie of delusions or lies, but not Mizzi. He loved her too much. So he stayed silent.
"Poor woman," Taaffe said gently. "She appeared to be the most devoted to you and wished anxiously to save your life, which she believes is now threatened by your own self. It's a desperate test of love indeed if you measure love by willingness to die with you. Too desperate and unjust. Certainly love is not measured by the willingness to let you die but by the desire to let you live."
It was ridiculous to hear Taaffe talking of love, Rudolf thought. He said nothing. Taaffe released his hold of Rudolf's chin, but bent even closer to look him straight into the eye. His mere presence felt disgusting. Rudolf wished to flee, but he felt nailed to the spot.
"Is there anything you wish to tell me, Your Highness?" Taaffe asked in a whisper.
"No," Rudolf replied hoarsely.
"Is there any help that you need? Anything I or someone else can do for your well-being - something that does not involve dying with you in the Hussar Temple?"
Rudolf found laughable the idea that accidentially came from Taaffe's choice of words - that Rudolf might want him to die with him at the Hussar Temple. Though that would rid the world of one dangerous pest, so perhaps it would be worth it, he thought wryly. But he neither said that out loud nor laughed. He only shook his head, but failed to shake off Taaffe, who leaned still closer.
"There really isn't?"
Rudolf could feel Taaffe's breath on his face. He wanted to turn away, push Taaffe away, anything. The man had no business invading into his private matters, trying to pry into his soul which he would never understand at all.
"No," he said icily and glared at Taaffe, trying to will him to go away. "Nothing."
"I wish you would tell me if there was." A pause. "Your safety really concerns us all."
Suddenly Rudolf could not bear holding back all the thoughts inside him. "Like you care," he spat out. "You'd just be happy if I did go and die. Would rid you of one persistent annoyance, and give you a chance to show how well you would deal with the aftermath."
Taaffe sat up and looked at him levelly, and finally said: "What does it matter what I think?"
When Rudolf said nothing, Taaffe got off the table, walked behind him, and laid his hands on Rudolf's shoulders. They felt heavy. Rudolf felt like shuddering.
"What does it matter?" Taaffe asked again, quietly. "Like you, I am a servant to the Crown." He bent down closer. "And it will matter to Austria if her Crown Prince dies such a horrible, shameful death. The dynasty would perhaps never recover from such a shock. No matter my personal feelings about the Crown Prince, this is not acceptable."
Rudolf felt the words on the skin of his neck. It was as though Taaffe was breathing doom on him with every syllable.
"To say nothing of the blow it would be to the Emperor," Taaffe whispered. "And the Empress."
The mention of his mother made Rudolf try to jerk away. She and Taaffe had never been able to stand each other, any more than Rudolf and Taaffe had. He had no business mentioning her.
"Can we agree, dear Crown Prince, that there will be no more antics such as this?" Taaffe asked. His hands continued to hold firmly onto Rudolf's shoulders, perhaps trying to make sure that Rudolf would not bolt out and escape. "No more asking women - not Crown Princesses, not demi-mondaines - to have a bullet shot through their head with you. Fewer late-night drinking and brooding sessions would do you good, too. Think about your parents. You would bring them such sorrow, you already do with the way you behave nowadays. Why not try to make them happy instead? They need it."
"When did they ever think of me or try to make me happy?" Rudolf muttered darkly before he realised that he had said it aloud.
Taaffe said nothing, and Rudolf thought that for just a moment, the fingers squeezed harder on his shoulders. He didn't know what was happening. Then Taaffe straightened up and said quietly, in a voice unlike himself:
"Perhaps they tried."
Right, Rudolf thought. Perhaps they tried. And if he tried to do something, but failed, when was that ever enough for anyone?
When Rudolf said nothing, Taaffe relaxed the hold of his hands and said in quite a different voice:
"I personally think it would be a shame to have to trouble the Emperor with such matters. He already has it hard with all his duties, and surely this would weigh on him heavily if he learned of it. We cannot afford to upset him so. And the same goes for the Empress. As we all know, her state of mind has been preciously fragile in the past years. It would be horrible for her to hear something like this, I don't know what it would do to her. Can we agree that there is no need to bring this to their attention? Do you promise that?"
Rudolf felt trapped. He suddenly knew for sure that the dark cave was closed and there was no way out for him. He could only nod and say: "Yes."
"Good." Rudolf could hear that Taaffe was smiling. Then he bent down again and whispered to Rudolf's ear: "And no more troubling Fräulein Caspar or the Crown Princess with such dreadful requests. Best you forget such thoughts entirely. Forget them in the arms of Fräulein Caspar, or hunting in the forest, whatever you will, as long as you will put them well behind you. They are not becoming of a Crown Prince." Taaffe paused, seemed to regard Rudolf for one more moment, and finally said: "Or a human being."
Then he straightened, pulled his hands off Rudof's shoulders, and walked back around his desk. Looking at Rudolf, he said: "I trust that I do not need to call on you again on such matters."
"No, you won't," Rudolf said dully.
"That's good." Taaffe took the half-full brandy glass from his desk and drank it. "Fräulein Caspar has of course been instructed to not speak to anyone of what she told us, so you needn't worry." He took Rudolf's brandy bottle from the corner of the desk. "And I shall take this, you need no more tonight. Well, goodnight to you, and I wish you pleasant dreams and a healthier tomorrow."
He saluted Rudolf briskly, and then was off.
Rudolf glared at the door after Taaffe had closed it. The Prime Minister's steps echoed in the corridor as he walked away. With him Rudolf felt inexplicably as though some last salvation had walked away from him. He didn't know why he thought that. He hated Taaffe and would never expect any help from him. And he knew that whatever Taaffe had just said, he would not consider it any kind of a loss if Rudolf died. Like nobody else, he supposed.
He angrily pushed his chair away from the table, rose, and went to his cupboard. From there he took out another brandy bottle, opened it and poured himself a new glass.
"The fool," he muttered. "As if I kept only one."
As he drank, he thought of his promise to Taaffe. No, Taaffe would not need to call on him on such business again. As much as he loved Mizzi, it was clear that she could not give him the one thing he needed. She would try to save his life again and again when there was nothing worth saving in it. And she would tell to anybody she could if she thought it might help him. It was kind of her and he blessed her for it, but it meant that he would only be more closely watched to make things difficult for him, and she in turn might be in danger of some serious consequences from someone who didn't like her meddling with such affairs, if she kept on with her deeds of heroism. No, for the best of them both, from now on Mizzi would have to be less in his trust.
It was time to find someone whose love for him would be measured in her willingness to let him die. Someone who would not tell, someone who would not try to save him, but would be willing to be the one thing he wanted: a companion for death.