Madame De Pompadour

It was easier, Reinette thought, in the time before she had to balance her time between the two loves of her life. Especially in times of illness, which only seemed to increase with her age. The time she had been gifted with the Doctor worked worked itself like the sword they occasionally trained with, an irritating double blade.

When his visits had been infrequent at best, it seemed as if he had always managed to arrive on the better days. Perhaps, like Madame Lebon, those thoughts were nothing if not self fulfilling. She held herself strong until each of the days that he appeared, and understood, and anticipated the fall that would come after. Because such infrequent treasures should not be waited on physicians and butchers, countless 'cures' and days lost to her bed.

He saw her as she wished to be. And Reinette simply refused to lose that.

It was enough that she already knew the was Louis' gaze could could with pity and concern. Some full decade her senior, he had battled his childhood illnesses, and won. They no longer dogged his shadows as they did hers. And while Reinette was never able to find herself resentful of that good fortune -- he had suffered in too many other ways -- she still wished she understood more. What made him strong, and healthy, and even ardorous, so that she might be the same.

Her health was the only thing that truly left Reinette at a loss.

And while she might manage to hide that from one man, it was impossible to do so with two.

Where she once might have fled to her own homes, her own spaces, the Doctor was now there. And where she might have attempted to hide within her work, and her country? Louis, ever constant, remained. How could one possibly find a place to face the collapse of one's body in privacy, if none no longer existed? Reinette was accustomed to a certain pace of living, and she never expected it to cease for her needs. But now it was also cluttered to the point of frustration.

Frustrating, because she could not even contemplate regretting it. Oh, there had been the bone-deep sense of failure at her inability to send the Doctor back to his home, and stars. Guilt over the expression she had often seen on Louis' features since, no matter how he attempted to mask it. A sense of not herself, as Reinette's life rebuilt itself around her. It took a great deal of personal sacrifice to yield herself to time, to walk the pace of the Doctor's path of discovery. But if she could not give him windows and doors, at least the sort which he truly needed? Well, this was what she could offer.

But when the illness came, it left her nowhere to go. If she fled the Doctor's prying eyes, that meant Versailles, where Louis awaited. But the Doctor had forbidden the bloodlettings, for the many reasons he continued to educated Reinette on. Her failing was that the headaches and infection of her lungs often left her to weak to refuse, and draped in her own guilt after. It flowed as the blood once did, filling her.


If she remained at home it did little good either. For is Reinette remained in his company too long, he knew. He always knew. Watching over her, watching and -- knowing. It was always then that she sensed she knew what would happen to her. Knew, of course, what the future held. Yet Reinette never sought the outcome in the Doctor's mind. Perhaps he thought that cowardly, or perhaps he thought she did so out of respect.

There were rules about such things after all.

But it did not matter, because she already knew herself.

It was Reinette's body after all.

Everyone, with such firm opinions on her health, and how to improve upon it. Truthfully, she grew weary of it all.

In the end, all she could manage was a poor sort of compromise as she attempted to remain away from them both. Both men, that only wished the best for her, with whatever knowledge they might have. She made her way to her rooms, avoiding the palace and Louis, and distracting the Doctor as best she could.

A book to edit, perhaps. An new invention to dissect or person to meet. Sometimes she even sent him all together to a new town, with the promise of adventure. She managed a few, even laughing as she sent him on his way. She was needed here after all, but that should not keep him from going. And yes, of course she would write.

All while awaiting the next good day.

What person in your muse's life, either by canon or in roleplay, has most affected their personality in your writing of them?

This answer is one of two parts, and it is not difficult to pinpoint which two men are the sum of that whole. Though obviously her mother's ambitions for her daughter and that fateful visit to Madame Le Bon would have serious consequences throughout Reinette's life? Without question those that have impacted her the most have been Louis XV and the Doctor -- as individuals, and in her relationships with them.

Louis would become, for Reinette, the man of men. She weighed what all others had to offer against him, and always found them lacking. Always. It was more than merely being king, though that was the beginning of her journey. It what Louis, as goal and not man that set her on a path that would change Reinette's life. She would receive an education that was rare for a man in her day, much less a woman, and thrive upon it. Beyond books, politics and penmanship there was the theater, dance and driving She played several instruments, was skilled at embroidery and etching. She was then exposed to the finest literary salons of the day, opportunities to practice her carriage and wit. Voltaire became one of her closest confidants. All because at the age of eight, it was predicted that she would become lover to a king and then groomed for that role.

But what started as a prize became a deep and abiding love. ( Read more... )

Reinette entered in chambers in a swirl silk and scent, both of which seemed to longer just behind her purposed steps. Not because it sensed a need to linger in the cause of feminine wiles, or courtly intrigue -- but because they could not quite seem to catch up with her form.

Today was a good day. Of warmth and sun and strength, and Reinette reveled in it. It often occurred to her that she never felt more sensual, more powerful and purposed than in days such as these. Utterly unencumbered, nor restricted. Not a prisoner to her own form. The decadent touch of air fully entering, and then lingering in her lungs as compelling as a lover's caress.

And she laughed, merely for the way it felt.

Reinette caught sight of him then, just at the fireplace. Hands, startled, hovered just above a crystal cut bowl that sparkled on the mantle. Fish the color of sunset circled there, seemingly undisturbed by their almost intruder.

"Just what do you think you are doing," she challenged with a swift smile that could not quite manage to be stern. "You know better."

Dressed in brown with eyes of the same, his gaze locked with her own, ad an odd, silent sort of discussion was had. He was seeing her through, Reinette decided, debating just if he moved forward in his own curiosity, what the punishment might be. How well did he know her? How much did she care for him?

Just what might he dare?

Quite a bit, it seemed to be decided.

"Come along then," Reinette interupted that challenge of will she suspected she was losing to intervene in the name of her goldfish. Still swimming along of course, unaware. "You know better. Even if I have been sadly neglectful of late."

Reinette reached the fireplace itself, and was somehow unsurprised to still see him contemplating the bowl.

"Luciole*." A voice firm now, and fully of herself. It did not linger in the room behind, but filled the one they occupied. "Come here."

Conceding defeat, the small monkey leaped from the mantle to Reinette's shoulder, years of companionship assuring a gentle landing onto silk and lace. Happily, he chattered in her ear, seeming to say that the goldfish was never his intended target, after all. Merely some of her company, just for the afternoon if she did not mind?

His reward was a helpless smile, and freshly claimed from her Godfather's hothouse?

A banana, to make amends.



*Luciole = Firefly

OOC: And yes, she really did have a monkey. ;)