#Count of Toulouse

[showereddiamonds]

“Satine , is it true the Moulin Rouge might close … ”

Babydoll and Satine actually have one of my favorite friendships in the show after Arabia and Babydoll of course

#Jeigh Madjus #ashley loren #moulin rouge #moulin rouge broadway #the bohemians dont count on my list #dont ask why #personal beef with toulouse lautrec #babydoll is the best though actually

[roehenstart]

Simon IV de Montfort (c. 1160/1165-1218) was Lord of Montfort-l'Amaury, fifth Count of Leicester, Count of Toulouse, Viscount of Béziers and Viscount of Carcassonne, he was the main protagonist of the Albigensian Crusade.

#royaume de france #maison de montfort #toulouse #crusades #crusader #simon iv de montfort #count of leicester #comte de toulouse #house of montfort #cigarette cards

[rebouks]

Previous // Next

Hi Alex!

I don’t think it’s stupid or cheesy to miss someone, I miss you too! Going back to normal after being on holiday is always horrible, especially after this one, and especially having to go back to school, I’m not a big fan! Do you go to school too? I wanted to ask if you did but I couldn’t… it’s nothing personal, by the way, sometimes I just can’t speak to people and I don’t really know why. I thought it was my decision if I did or didn’t before I met you but maybe not. My parents n’ the teachers at school call it selective mutism but I won’t bore you with all that crap.

I can’t see your new teeth but they grow fast so maybe next time! If they don’t maybe you could get some gold one’s like your dad has, unless you don’t wanna look like a pirate lol.. my littlest sister has four teeth now, and I have all my big teeth! I haven’t counted the twins though cos they’d probably bite me if I tried haha!!

Ava is the tiny one with the blonde pigtails! She’s cute but she still sleeps and poops a lot haha, she’s sorta chill though and definitely doesn’t cry as much as Wren and Byrd used to (have you noticed we’re all named after birds yet? I guess my parents thought it was cute since our last name is Finch) Wren’s the ginger one with plaits! She’s pretty funny but she’s super grumpy sometimes and likes to bite and kick (not me though, she loves me) I think it’s cos she’s tired a lot cos she never sleeps at night, kinda like dad.. they’re twins but Byrd is way different, I couldn’t get a picture of him cos he kept running off, he’s crazy like that but he’s super snuggly and loves playing doctor! He likes to pretend to break my legs so I can’t go anywhere then fix them for me haha. Brothers and sisters are fun but they can be a pain in the butt sometimes! We have a cat called Lou too, his full name is Toulouse and he likes to bring us leaves from the garden and scream about ‘em, and he loves stealing food when you’re not looking.

Dad’s been teaching mom how to cook cos she sucks at it (don’t tell her I said that though cos I always pretend it’s not THAT bad) she’s sorta getting better though so I suppose the whole practice makes perfect thing pays off eventually. I got a school project to make a lame volcano that I didn’t wanna do as well, but my parents made me do it anyway.. we all know that real volcanoes aren’t full of baking powder and vinegar though so I dunno if there was much point to it but they seemed to think it was important so I did it anyway, at least I got a picture of it “going off” I guess. No one likes homework, even if it’s supposed to be fun, right?!

It’s cool you set Amber free!! I’m sure she’s happier wherever she is now so I guess you could just think of that when you miss her? The rocks are way cooler anyway! My aunt Aspen has loads of crystals too, sometimes she even charges them in the sun or the full moon.. I keep forgetting to ask her why but I’ll try and remember so I can tell you next time!

Hahaa your poor dad with those birds! I’ll definitely keep the picture cos it’s hilarious, Wren found it the funniest but don’t worry, I’ll keep the picture safe from her sticky hands! I have a hiding spot in the attic for all the stuff I don’t want them touching. I guess birdwatching is sorta fun sometimes but you’ve gotta be quiet (easy for me I guess.. hah!) I’m not sure there’s any other birds round here other than seagulls since we live right next to the sea, those are the ones you can hear the most anyway cos they never shut up! My dad jokes that he used to be a seagull in a past life cos he’s loud and greedy like they are lol.. he’s been building me a treehouse too, I bet that’d be good for birdwatching!! It’ll be super cool once he’s finished but it’s taking ages cos he mostly does it all by himself, I try n’ help sometimes but I’m still too small to carry or lift most things.. I wanna be as strong as him one day, he can build and fix almost anything (he swears a lot during it though haha!) Do you ever think about what you wanna be when you grow up? I don’t really think about that sorta stuff cos working sounds boring, especially if it’s as lame as school!!

I’m ten, by the way! How old are you and when’s your birthday? Mine’s February 22nd. I don’t think I have a favourite food, anything my dad makes is amazing cos he’s a good cook and my mom makes the BEST pancakes! We’re always stuffed after dinner but dad says (lies) that pudding goes in a different part of your stomach so there’s always room for cake haha.. I think I like it best when he makes spicy food but Wren and Byrd hate it so he doesn’t make stuff like that too often. It’s fun to see how much you can eat before your mouth feels like it’s on fire and I’ve decided I’m gonna beat him one day so he better watch out!!!

I didn’t know what to write at first but I guess I sorta ended up writing quite a lot since I had some catching up to do! Are you and your dad on holiday in the tower or are you living there for now? It sorta sounded like you’ve been there a long time, where do you usually live? What kinda stuff does your dad dig up for work? It’d be cool if he dug up dinosaur bones!! I watched something like that recently and they were HUGE!

It’s hard to think of questions on the spot but you can talk about anything you want too! I probably owe you a million answers as well so you can ask anything you want too! I had fun reading your letter and I’m glad we can be pen-pals even if we don’t get to see each other! Maybe next time we meet in person I’ll be able to say something, but writing would still be fun too so I guess it doesn’t really matter, right?

Love Robin c:

ps. I’m keeping the funny photo of you yelling at your dad and there’s nothing you can do about it!!

pps!! I don’t have a way to print out photos yet otherwise I’d have sent some new ones. Dad gave me an old polaroid ages ago but it’s still broken, his friend said he might be able to fix it though so hopefully I can use that next time. Mom said you can have some of our old ones and the ones from her disposable camera whilst we were on holiday for now though so I’ll send those to you as soon as they come back!

#ts4 #sims 4 #simblr #ts4 story #sims story #forever in between #fib #robin finch #alexandra sampson #brodie sampson #wren finch #byrd finch #ava finch #ᓚᘏᗢ #love it when kids are like LOOK n shove stuff so close to ur face u can't see shit #😆 #sdkjsk robin doesn't know what to write #also robin.. writes a ten page essay #bless him #he could finally 'talk'!!! #🤸‍♀️

[henri-de-toulouse-lautrec-art]

-Count Alphonse de Toulouse Lautrec driving a four horse hitch-

#art #art history #artwork #culture #henri de toulouse lautrec #history #museum #museums #painting #vintage

[haggishlyhagging]

Women found temporary, often short-lived support for the notion of their innate equality with men as creatures of God in the heretical sects. Women in great numbers were active in organizing and proselytizing for the heretical sects and were visible among those suffering persecution and martyrdom. In this, they followed a pattern already noted in the history of early Christianity: as long as movements were small, loosely structured and persecuted, women were welcomed as members, given access to organizational leadership and shared authority with men. When the movement became successful, it became more tightly structured, more hierarchical and more male-dominated. Women were then relegated to auxiliary roles and to invisibility. This can be illustrated by the case of the Cathars.

The Cathar heresy flourished in the 11th century in the Languedoc and in the 12th century continued there and spread into Italy, the Rhineland and the Low Countries. Its dualistic belief system rested heavily on Gnostic texts and interpretations. Cathar doctrine taught that there were two distinct gods, one the creator of good, the other of evil. The material world was created by the evil god and its reproduction was by definition evil, hence Cathars rejected marriage and what they defined as the fruits of copulation, meat and milk. Since sin originated in Satan, Cathars held Eve blameless in the Fall; they saw her merely as Satan's tool. Following Gnostic doctrine, Cathars believed that Mary Magdalen had been the wife or concubine of Christ. They denied the doctrine of physical resurrection and held that resurrection referred purely to the soul. It was the evil god that created male and female; in the heavenly kingdom all creatures would be angels without earthly sexuality. These doctrinal differences from Catholic orthodoxy enabled Cathars to see men and women as more alike than different in the divine purpose and in their religious potential. Cathars believed that it was possible for human beings to come closer to perfection through ascetic living; those who succeeded were called perfecti; both men and women could reach that stage. In practice most people reached that stage only shortly before their death. While marriage was tolerated for the ordinary believer, it was forbidden to perfecti and perfectae. One reached that stage through the ceremony of the consolamentum, a sort of baptism by the laying on of hands. This meant that ordinary believers had a great deal of freedom in sexual matters during their lifetimes, since they were assured that after confession and receiving the consolamentum they would be perfected and saved. It is significant for the high status of women among the Cathars that, at least in theory, men and women could administer the consolamentum, although in practice few women ever did.

Catharism developed in the cities of the Languedoc, especially in Toulouse, the center of textile production and trade. Large numbers of women in the textile manufacturies became Cathars, as did male artisans and textile workers. Since the wages of female textile workers were much below those of male workers, even fully employed women could barely support themselves. To such women Catharism may have offered hope of salvation and practical communal support. The disproportionately large number of females among these heretics was noticed even by contemporaries.

A number of Languedoc noblewomen are known as leaders of Catharism and as perfectae. Phillipa, wife of the Count de Foix, led a convent of perfectae; one of the count's sisters was Esclarmonde de Foix, the "Princesse Cathare." After the death of her husband, she returned to the court of her brother, who built a house in which she, his former wife and other perfectae lived. In 1207 there was a public dispute between several bishops and representatives of Waldensians and Cathars. It is indicative both of her high status and of the limitations of her position that Esclarmonde participated in this public dispute on the side of the heretics and that the bishops reprimanded her and told her to go back to her spinning.

In the second half of the 12th century many Cathar women's convents were founded for unmarried daughters and widows of the lower nobility. These communities, led by perfectae, were under the spiritual guidance of a heretical bishop. While these Cathar women, like Catholic nuns, were active in education, spinning and weaving, they also proselytized and performed some religious ceremonies.

Constant persecution of the Cathars by the Inquisition made severe inroads in the strength of the movement. The violence of the Albigensian crusade of 1209 fell with particular brutality upon women. That year there was a massacre of heretic women and children in Beziers, and a year later, in Minerve, Cathars were given a choice of abjuring their belief or burning. One hundred forty male and female Cathars jumped into the flames. When crusaders started a reign of terror against the perfectae, the local population at times defended the heretics. In 1234 in several communities, armed women and other citizens prevented the arrest of female heretics. In 1243 women actively fought in defense of Montsegur castle, the last stronghold of the Cathars. During the siege almost all the noblewomen in the castle made a pact with the bishop to give them the consolamentum in case they were wounded and could not speak. The agreement was fulfilled when the situation in the fortress became hopeless. After the defeat, the military defenders of the fortress were allowed to retreat unharmed, but 200 male and female Cathars were burned on a great pyre, among them a number of well-known perfectae. After Montsegur the nobility largely withdrew from Catharism, and Cathar convents gradually disappeared.

By the end of the 13th century, Inquisition records no longer mention perfectae, which indicates that they lost their leadership position in the sect. In its declining phase Catharism attracted more adherents of the urban middle classes. Members of the middle class were drawn to Catharism because it allowed profit and interest, which the Church opposed. The Cathar women among this group appear in the record as among the faithful, but not as leaders. They supported the movement by raising funds, giving help to fugitives and doing missionary work. With the destruction of the Cathar convents the opportunity for women to exercise autonomous power and even political leadership disappeared. Many former perfectae joined the Beguines; others found refuge in Catholic convents. By the middle of the 14th century, Catharism had virtually disappeared. As would happen so often later in revolutionary and heretical movements, Catharism had seemed to promise women a role of spiritual and theological equality. Under the impact of persecution and of middle-class respectability this promise had given way to male dominance and patriarchal structures. The courage of the armed women defending their villages in the Languedoc against invading crusaders was only a singular outcry, throttled, and quickly forgotten.

-Gerda Lerner, The Creation of Feminist Consciousness

#gerda Lerner #female spirituality #female oppression #patriarchy #male violence #asceticism #catharism #women’s history #religious history #inquisition #heretical women

[palecleverdoll]

Ages of French Queens at First Marriage

I have only included women whose birth dates and dates of marriage are known within at least 1-2 years, therefore, this is not a comprehensive list.

This list is composed of Queens of France until the end of the House of Bourbon; it does not include Bourbon claimants or descendants after 1792.

The average age at first marriage among these women was 20.

Ermentrude of Orléans, first wife of Charles the Bald: age 19 when she married Charles in 842 CE

Richilde of Provence, second wife of Charles the Bald: age 25 when she married Charles in 870 CE

Richardis of Swabia, wife of Charles the Fat: age 22 when she married Charles in 862 CE

Théodrate of Troyes, wife of Odo: age 14 or 15 when she married Odo in 882 or 883 CE

Frederuna, wife of Charles III: age 20 when she married Charles in 907 CE

Beatrice of Vermandois, second wife of Robert I: age 10 when she married Robert in 990 CE

Emma of France, wife of Rudolph: age 27 when she married Rudolph in 921 CE

Gerberga of Saxony, wife of Gilbert, Duke of Lorraine, and later of Louis IV: age 16 when she married Gilbert in 929 CE

Emma of Italy, wife of Lothair: age 17 when she married Lothair in 965 CE

Adelaide-Blanche of Anjou, wife of Stephen, Viscount of Gévaudan, Raymond III, Count of Toulouse, and later Louis V: age 15 when she married Stephen in 955 CE

Bertha of Burgundy, wife of Odo I, Count of Blois, and later Robert II: age 19 when she married Odo in 984 CE

Constance of Arles, third wife of Robert II: age 17 when she married Robert in 1003 CE

Anne of Kiev, wife of Henry I: age 21 when she married Henry in 1051 CE

Bertha of Holland, first wife of Philip I: age 17 when she married Philip in 1072 CE

Bertrade of Montfort, wife of Fulk IV, Count of Anjou, and second wife of Philip I: age 19 when she married Fulk in 1089 CE

Adelaide of Maurienne, second wife of Louis VI: age 23 when she married Louis in 1115 CE

Eleanor of Aquitaine, first wife of Louis VII and later Henry II of England: age 15 when she married Louis in 1137 CE

Adela of Champagne, third wife of Louis VII: age 20 when she married Louis in `1160 CE

Isabella of Hainault, first wife of Philip II: age 10 when she married Philip in 1180 CE

Ingeborg of Denmark, second wife of Philip II: age 19 when she married Philip in 1193 CE

Agnes of Merania, third wife of Philip II: age 21 when she married Philip in 1195 CE

Blanche of Castile, wife of Louis VIII: age 12 when she married Louis in 1200 CE

Margaret of Provence, wife of Louis IX: age 13 when she married Louis in 1234 CE

Isabella of Aragon, first wife of Philip III: age 14 when she married Philip in 1262 CE

Marie of Brabant, second wife of Philip III: age 20 when she married Philip in 1274 CE

Joan I of Navarre, wife of Philip IV: age 11 when she married Philip in 1284 CE

Margaret of Burgundy, wife of Louis X; age 15 when she married Louis in 1305 CE

Clementia of Hungary, second wife of Louis X: age 22 when she married Louis in 1315 CE

Joan II, Countess of Burgundy, wife of Philip V: age 15 when she married Philip in 1307 CE

Blanche of Burgundy, first wife of Charles IV: age 12 when she married Charles in 1308 CE

Marie of Luxembourg, second wife of Charles IV: age 18 when she married Charles in 1322 CE

Joan of Évreux, third wife of Charles IV: age 14 when she married Charles in 1324 CE

Bonne of Luxembourg, first wife of John II: age 17 when she married John in 1332 CE

Joan I, Countess of Auvergne, wife of Philip of Burgundy, and later John II: age 12 when she married Philip in 1338 CE

Joanna of Bourbon, wife of Charles V: age 12 when she married Charles in 1350 CE

Isabeau of Bavaria, wife of Charles VI: age 15 when she married Charles in 1385 CE

Marie of Anjou, wife of Charles VII: age 18 when she married Charles in 1422 CE

Charlotte of Savoy, second wife of Louis XI: age 9 when she married Louis in 1451 CE

Anne of Brittany, wife of Maximilian I, HRE, Charles VIII and later Louis XII: age 13 when she married Maximilian in 1490 CE

Joan of France, first wife of Louis XII: age 12 when she married Louis in 1476 CE

Mary Tudor, third wife of Louis XII: age 18 when she married Louis in 1514 CE

Claude of France, first wife of Francis I: age 15 when she married Francis in 1514 CE

Eleanor of Austria, wife of Manuel I of Portugal and later second wife of Francis I: age 20 when she married Manuel in 1518 CE

Catherine de' Medici, wife of Henry II: age 14 when she married Henry in 1533 CE

Mary, Queen of Scots, wife of Francis II: age 16 when she married Francis in 1558 CE

Elisabeth of Austria, wife of Charles IX: age 16 when she married Charles in 1570 CE

Louise of Lorraine, wife of Henry III: age 22 when she married Henry in 1575 CE

Margaret of Valois, first wife of Henry IV: age 19 when she married Henry in 1572 CE

Marie de' Medici, second wife of Henry IV: age 25 when she married Henry in 1600 CE

Anne of Austria, wife of Louis XIII: age 14 when she married Louis in 1615 CE

Maria Theresa of Spain, wife of Louis XIV: age 22 when she married Louis in 1660 CE

Marie Leszczyńska, wife of Louis XV: age 22 when she married Louis in 1725 CE

Marie Antoinette, wife of Louis XVI: age 15 when she married Louis in 1770 CE

#history #french #medieval

[obsessedwithlute]

"M.Villefort is no longer at Marseilles, he is now at Toulouse." -The Count of Monte Cristo, page 117

Guys.....

Did Jean Valjean meet Villefort?

#jean valjean #villefort #the count of monte cristo #les mis #les miserables #i know the timelines probably don't match up but still #crossover fanfic opportunity

[dailyanarchistposts]

As May Day Approaches

Following this press conference, the government hoped that its official announcements would finally take the life out of the yellow vest movement, defusing the social tension that has built up. However, in the hours following Macron’s speech, several well-known yellow vest figures expressed their dissatisfaction with his proposals, calling for further demonstrations. In the end, even if some yellow vesters were sidetracked by Macron’s announcement, it was difficult to predict whether people would massively take the streets for the 24th act of the yellow vest movement.

On Saturday, April 27, about 23,600 yellow vesters demonstrated in France. For this new day of action, the epicenter of the movement was the city of Strasbourg. As the European elections will occur in a month, an “international call” was made to gather and march towards the European Parliament. Some Belgians, Germans, Italians, Swiss, and Luxembourgers participated as well. About 3000 demonstrators walked through the streets of Strasbourg, confronting police and engaging in property destruction. In the end, 42 people were arrested and at least 7 injured—three police officers, three demonstrators, and one passerby.

At the same time, two demonstrations took place in Paris. The first, organized by trade unions, drew about 5500 demonstrators, among them 2000 in yellow vests, while the other, mostly composed of several hundreds of yellow vesters, did a tour of all the major corporate media headquarters to ask for “impartial media coverage.” Other gatherings also took place in Lyons, Toulouse, Cambrai, and elsewhere in France. (All of the figures provided here are from the French authorities.)

If we compare the total number of participants in this 24th act to the other national days of action, it is undeniable that it attracted fewer participants. Does that mean that the government has finally gained the upper hand over the movement? It’s unclear. It is possible that some yellow vesters stayed home from the 24th act in order to prepare for May Day.

Last year, the intensity of property destruction and confrontations with police during the May Day mobilization of anarchists and other autonomous rebels compelled the government to cancel the entire traditional trade union march. In view of the tense social and political situation in France today, who knows what May Day 2019 could bring?

If the government attempts to cancel or repress demonstrations in Paris this May Day, the situation could become explosive. Not only because the police have adopted aggressive new law enforcement strategies over the past few weeks, but also because several calls have been made for yellow vesters to join autonomous rebels at the front of the traditional Parisian afternoon procession for the “ultimate act.” The objective is set: Paris is to become the capital city of rioting.

Here is an English adaptation of one of the calls, entitled Pour un 1er mai jaune et noir:

For a yellow and black May Day! “When the government violates the rights of the people, insurrection is for the people and for each portion of the people the most sacred of rights and the most indispensable of duties.” -Article 35 of the Declaration of the Rights of Man and Citizen (1793) Macron’s government has decided to crush the current social protest by force, reaching a level of repression never seen before: prohibitions of demonstrations, deployment of soldiers, the use of armored vehicles, the use of chemical markers and weapons of war against protesters, jail sentences in spades, hands torn off, blinded protesters… During the demonstration of May Day 2018, the Prefecture of Police counted 14,500 demonstrators “on the sidelines of the trade union procession” (almost as much as in the traditional procession) including 1200 “radical individuals.” On March 16, at the time of act 18, it was 1500 “ultra violent” ones who were present among the 7000 demonstrators, according to the figures of this same police. Today, what frightens the state is not the rioters themselves, but the adhesion and understanding they arouse among the rest of the population. And this despite the calls, week after week, for everyone to dissociate themselves from the “breakers.” If there is one group that currently strikes France with all its violence, it is not the “Black Bloc,” nor the yellow vests; it is rather the government itself. We are calling on all revolutionaries in France and elsewhere, all those who want this to change, to come and form a determined and combative march. Because if repression falls on everyone, our response must be common and united. Against Macron and his world, let’s take the street together to revive the convergence of anger and hope. Let’s get ready, let’s equip ourselves, lets organize ourselves to overthrow him and drag him through a day in hell. War has been declared!

[1] “Proportional representation” would mean that if, for example, 30% of voters vote for the Green Party, then members of that party would receive 30% of the total number of seats. So far, legislative elections offer no proportional representation—even if a party receives a large percentage of votes, it might not gain many seats at the assembly. People have been complaining about this “unfair process,” so now the government is willing to increase proportional representation in elections. Unfortunately, for several years now, the National Front has usually received around 20–25% of votes but only currently holds 6 seats out of the 577 in the Assemblée Nationale. Increasing proportional representation will give them more power in the decision-making—although, of course, it’s not clear to what extent Macron will actually follow through on his promises. Of course, there is no option for people who have grown disillusioned with government itself: that perspective will never be “proportionately represented.” This is why the government refused outright to recognized blank votes.

#Macron #democracy #direct action #Ecology #fascism #France #May Day #Paris #reactionary activism #yellow vests #french politics #anarchism #resistance #autonomy #revolution #community building #practical anarchism #anarchist society #practical #anarchy #daily posts #communism #anti capitalist #anti capitalism #late stage capitalism #organization #grassroots #grass roots #anarchists #libraries

[thedepthsoffandomminds]

THE RED MILL

request- so hear me out...........Moulin Rouge but Obi-Wan.

Done my best with this one. I hope.you all like it. Comments welcome.

Word count - 11,741 its a long one. One part only full story

Obi-Wan Kenobi is a broken man. He sits alone against the wall of a boarding house, furniture and clothing strewn around him. A bottle of half drunk Tatooine wine in his hand. Looking across the room he stands slowly, walking, though hardly lifting his feet to the data pad. He sits at the table and lifts it.

As he slowly types the words, and tries to fight back the inevitable tears.

THE GREATEST THING

YOU’LL EVER LEARN

IS JUST TO LOVE

AND BE LOVED

IN RETURN

The Red Mill.

A nightclub, a dance hall, and a bordello. Ruled over by Zidler the Hutt, a kingdom of nighttime pleasures. Where the rich and powerful came to play with the young and beautiful creatures of the underworld. The most beautiful of all these was the woman I loved.

Y/n.

A courtesan, she sold her love to men.

They called her the sparkling diamond and she was the star of the Moulin Rouge.

The woman I loved is…

The Jedi looks out his window at the Red Mill across the street, the lights that once shone brightly in reds, blues and yellows stood dull and broken.

…dead.

A tear falls from his eye, dropping onto the datapad.

I knew nothing of Zidler the Hutt, Red Mill or y/n. The galaxy had been swept up in the destruction of the Jedi and the rise of the Emperor. I had travelled to Tatooine to hide from it all. After the loss of my Padawan Anakin Skywalker I wanted to disappear. On a hill near Moss Eisley was a small town called Montmartre. There I found cheap lodgings in a building built of the same sand and mud as all the other buildings. Montmartre was not as I had thought it, not a place of debauchery and sin but a town of truth, beauty, freedom and love. The only problem was, I knew nothing of love. There was once a woman, Satine but she is gone now.

Luckily, right at that moment, an unconscious Twileak fell through my roof. He was quickly joined by a dwarf dressed in a strange costume.

"How do you do? My name is Henri-Marie-Raymond de Toulouse-Lautrec-Monfa." The unhooded Jawa spoke.

"What?" Obi-Wan stumbles back from the pair.

Henri attempts to pull the Twileak from the rope holding him between the two rooms.

"I’m terribly sorry about all this. We were just upstairs rehearsing a play."

"What?" Obi-Wan isn't sure if he should be listening to any of this.

"A play! Something very modern called Spectacular Spectacular and it’s set in Naboo." Henri explained, "Unfortunately, the unconscious Twileak suffered from a sickness called Narcolepsy." He sat down at the small table, while Obi-Wan examines the Twileak now lying on his bed.

"Perfectly fine one moment, then suddenly unconscious the next." Henri laughs. The faces of THE DOCTOR, AUDREY, and SATIE appear through the hole from which the Argentinean came. Henri and Obi-Wan look up at them.

"How is he?" The bald man asked.

"How wonderful, now the Narcoleptic Twileak is unconscious, and therefore the scenario will not be finished in time to present to the financier tomorrow." Audrey grumbled, her sharply cut dark hair dangling down.

"Right, Henri, I still have to finish the music." Satie nervously shuffled.

"We’ll just find someone to read the part." Henri grinned, turning his head toward Obi-Wan.

Before I knew it, I was upstairs standing in for the unconscious Twileak. There was so much noise, the frankly atrocious lyrics that had been written for nonsensical music. My brain was still too tired to function and so I sat down on their makeshift set and waited for someone to do something. That was when I recalled the poetry of Master Ruhan. I read it all in the archives and so to halt their squabbling I sang out.

"The hills are alive with the sound of music!"

That was it! They wanted me. Audrey was so enthusiastic and left.

The Twileak woke and announced it was time to drink and so I had my first taste of Absentlie, a green drink that forced out your worries and let's in the green fairy.

As they drank, the companions dragged Obi-Wan across the street to the Red Mill, where they watched the women dancing. Like confetti falling from a great height they moved around the dance floor in brightly coloured dresses. Music, played by a band in the small stage; blared through speakers all around the room.

Zidler threw up his arms and called out to the room. Everyone fell quiet as the lights dimmed and silver paper floated down from the ceiling. Upon a wooden swing you descend, a glittering outfit, your voice echoes through the hall. Obi-Wan looks around, every set of eyes in the building were zeroed in on you, all men and women and droids listened intently to your words.

"I have arranged a private reading with Y/n after her number." It would be his job to convince you that his writing would put the Red Mill amongst the greatest theatres in the galaxy.

Your body moves as if it is controlled by the music and the words you sing. Henri speaks to Obi-Wan, though he does not hear what is said. You slipped behind a circle of dancers.

When you reappeared you had the dancing men spin you on a chair across the room until they deposited you in front of Obi-Wan.

"I believe you were expecting me." You breathe out so only the Jedi could hear you. He gulps, but does not move.

"I'm afraid it's ladies choice!" You call out to the crowd. The group Obi-Wan had entered with, push him toward you and you lead him down to the dance floor. All around the dancers and the patrons danced in what felt to Obi-Wan to be a practised dance. You help him to follow the movements. There is something about the way your skin feels running over his own that sends shivers of warmth through the Jedi. A sensation he had not felt for some time.

Unknown to Obi-Wan, another man watched your every move. Duke Valru, a Senator in the new Empire, waited for his moment. Promise from the Hutts that he would have your full attention that evening. He watched as you danced, imagining your hands running over his body. A twinge of jealousy, already turning his gut. You were his, he would pay for you, your attention would be all his.

As you raise once more on the swing you sing out. The words get caught in your throat and your chest tightens. Gasping for breath you feel your mind go blank and you fall unconscious from the swing. Before you hit the ground a large man catches you in his arms and swiftly carries you out of the dancehall. Obi-Wan watches with a lump in his throat. The pull of his training knowing he could have reached you first, but he could not risk being seen.

Zidler doesn't allow it to fester, quickly making it part of the show and switching the dance to distract the patrons.

************************

Dressed in a long red dress you looked into a mirror, silently telling yourself that this was for your career. If you could convince the Duke to invest in Henri's new play you could showcase your talents. Perhaps even catch the eye of directors from around the galaxy and finally leave the Red Mill. Zidler had bought you from your father when you were a child. You were trained everyday in the art of deceiving men into thinking you loved them, bending them to your will. You were a master at it, the best amongst the workers at the Red Mill. However, you had dreams, dreams of leaving this place and flying far away one day.

Zidler had given you the best room in the building, an old decommissioned AT-AT that had been decorated with heavy red curtains, blankets, plush curtains and carpets. The cockpit had been removed with a bed in its place, a staircase leading up to a pagoda on the top had little, yellow lights adorning the bannisters.

Standing outside the door you take a moment to look into a mirror. Your mind changing. No this outfit was not good enough, it would not entice the Duke. Luckily you had placed a small wardrobe of clothes in the corridor. Stripping down to your ornate corset and underwear you slip a lace robe over your arms and let down your hair.

Inside the man you believe to be the Duke stands, his back to you, looking out of the cut out section that looks over the courtyard.

"This is a wonderful place for a poetry reading. Don’t you think? Hm?

Poetic…enough…for you?" You ask in the most sultry voice you can muster. Obi-Wan turns, his blue eyes meeting yours and for a moment you both forget why had come to the room.

"Yes." He finds his voice first. You move across the room to the table and start to pull out a bottle of alcohol.

"A little supper?" You suggest.

Obi-Wan shifts awkwardly "I’d rather just, um…get it over and done with."

Those words stung you, no one had ever been in such a bored rush.

"Oh…" you fake a smile, "Very well. Then why don’t you…come down here." You say laying back on the bed, exposing your leg, "And let’s get it over and done with."

Obi-Wan looks around the room, trying to look at anything but you.

"I…prefer to do it standing." He says still talking about the poetry Henri had told.him to perform. Surprised you move to stand as well, but he puts his hands out toward you.

"You don’t have to stand, I mean. It’s sometimes that…It’s quite long and I’d like you to be comfortable. It’s quite modern, what I do, and it may feel a little strange at first, but I think, if you’re open, then, then you might enjoy it." He fumbles out the words as he paces around the room. You raise your eyebrows whilst he talks, convinced you would be the one learning something new.

"I’m sure I will." You reply.

"Excuse me." Obi-Wan turns around, "The… The sky…is…The sky…the blue...birds…Come on…come on…" Obi-Wan tried to remember the words to Master Ruhan's poems. Gentle words about the beauty of the galaxy and the love between men and women that just would not stay in his mind. Each time he looked back at you, he lost all focus. Your body lying there before him, making his mouth run dry.

:Why am I so shaky?' He thinks to himself. Of course he knew what this woman was, he was a Jedi but he was not so innocent to not understand your allure.

You slide to the edge of the bed, "Is everything all right?"

"Uh…I-I…I’m a little nervous. It’s just, sometimes, it takes a while for…um you know, inspiration to come…" he lies to you through a drying throat.

You stand and walk over to him.

"Oh, yes, yes, yes… Let mummy help, hm?" You say grabbing his crotch. Obi-Wan gasps at the touch.

"Does that inspire you?" You whisper and push him back onto the bed, "Let’s make love."

"Make love!?" Obi-Wan asks in confusion.

You straddle his hips, running your hands over his chest and pushing his clothing back.

"You want to, don’t you?"

"Well, I…I came to—" he tries to hold on to your arms and stop you.

Your fingers cover his mouth as you begin unbuttoning his shirt.

"No, tell the truth. You feel the poetry!" You grind down on him.

"What?" Obi-Wan pushes the word out, trying to keep his mind focused. Though it becomes increasingly difficult. You make light work of unbuttoning his breaches. Obi-Wan's mind slips and allows himself to feel everything that is happening. Sure he had a mandate to protect the boy, but that could wait…. couldn't it? The Jedi order is gone, he could allow himself this couldn't he?

"Oh, yes, I need your poetry now!" You cry out, still above him.

"All right!!" Obi-Wan pushes you back as gently as he can and runs to the other end of the room. He forces himself to remember Ruhan's poem.

"It’s a little bit funny this...feeling inside

I’m not one of those…who can…who can easily hide." He looks to you, eyes full.of a fear you couldn't understand.

"Is this…is this okay? Is this what you want?" He asks.

"Ohhh, poetry. Yes, yes, yes, this is what I want, naughty words!" You say pushing yourself down on the bed.

"I-I don’t…" Obi-Wan continues as you roll around amongst the sheets. "I don’t have much money but…but boy if I did I’d buy a big house where we, where we both could live. So…if I were a sculptor"

You roll onto the floor and crawl a bit closer to him, listening to every word.

"But, then again, no. Or a man who makes potions in a travelling show. I…I know it’s not much…But it’s the best I can do." He isn't sure where this comes from, a memory of a recording he had once found, the poems of Ruhan sung into the sweetest melodies in the Opera houses of the Old Republic. He let the music burst through him and sang.

"MY GIFT IS MY SONG"

You stop and gaze at him, stunned. You are frozen in place unable to do anything but listen to his sweet voice.

"AND THIS ONE’S FOR YOU

AND YOU CAN TELL EVERYBODY

THAT THIS IS YOUR SONG

IT MAY BE QUITE SIMPLE, BUT

NOW THAT IT’S DONE

HOPE YOU DON’T MIND

I HOPE YOU DON’T MIND

THAT I PUT DOWN IN WORDS

HOW WONDERFUL LIFE IS

NOW YOU’RE IN THE WORLD"

He turns back to the cut out and you find yourself falling to a place you couldn't climb out of. A place you were not allowed to go.

"I SAT ON THE ROOF

AND I KICKED OFF THE MOSS"

You stand and take a hesitant step closer to him.

"WELL, SOME OF THESE VERSES, WELL THEY

THEY GOT ME QUITE CROSSED"

He turns to you as you step up to each other.

"BUT THE SUN’S BEEN KIND

WHILE I WROTE THIS SONG

IT’S FOR PEOPLE LIKE YOU, THAT

KEEP IT TURNED ON

SO EXCUSE ME FORGETTING

BUT THESE THINGS I DO

YOU SEE, I’VE FORGOTTEN

IF THEY’RE GREEN OR THEY’RE BLUE

ANYWAY, THE THING IS

WHAT I REALLY MEAN"

He takes your hand in his.

"YOURS ARE THE SWEETEST EYES

I’VE EVER SEEN"

You dance together as if the world outside does not exist. All there is is you, him and the love that was building between you.

"AND YOU CAN TELL EVERYBODY

THIS IS YOUR SONG

IT MAY BE QUITE SIMPLE BUT

NOW THAT IT’S DONE

I HOPE YOU DON’T MIND

I HOPE YOU DON’T MIND

THAT I PUT DOWN IN WORDS

HOW WONDERFUL LIFE IS

NOW YOU’RE IN THE WORLD"

He spins you both round, lowering you in his arms. Obi-Wan would never understand how or why he had so easily given in to you, into the feeling that warmed his chest, but he did, wholey giving in to you and pressed his lips.to yours.

"Oh…I can’t believe it. I’m in love. I’m in love with a young, handsome, talented Duke.

"Duke?" He asks,

You grin against his lips and speak again, "Mm, not that the title’s important, of course."

"I’m not a Duke, I'm a je-, a writer."

"A writer?" You push at his chest, forcing him to stand up. "No." You hold your hand to your head.

"Henri said-"

"Henri? Oh no. No, you're not another of oh-so-talented, charmingly bohemian, tragically impoverished prodigies?" You can feel your world beginning to crumble.

"Well, you might say that." Obi-Wan shrugs.

You're about to ask about the Duke when you hear Zidler outside your door. His dull tone spitting out Huttese unmistakable.

"The Duke!" You pant, "hide!" Obi-Wan dashes behind a pillar, pulling a curtain around himself just as the door opens. Zidler slithers into the room, the Duke beside him.

"My Dear! Are you decent for the Duke? Where were you?" He asks in the common tongue.

"I, uh…I…was…waiting!" You say, through heavy breaths.

"My dearest Duke, allow me to introduce Mademoiselle y/n." it was not often your employer acted so slimy. Cosying up to his patrons.

Mustering all the training you had received you locked your eyes with the Duke.

"My Lord, how wonderful of you to take time out of your busy schedule to visit." You step up to him, running your hand up his arm.

"The pleasure, I fear, will be entirely mine, my dear." The Duke replies, eyes on your hand.

Obi-Wan peeks out from the curtain and catches your eyes.

"I’ll leave you two squirrels to get better acquainted" Zidler gives you a pointed glare before leaving the AT-AT.

The Duke kisses your hand. "After tonight’s petty exertions on the stage, you must surely be in need of refreshment, my dear."

He pours you both a drink from the table, narrowly missing Obi-Wan slipping back behind the curtain. A lump begins to form in your throat as you watch them. Searching your mind you recall the reason for Duke's visit, to invest.

"It’s…it’s a little bit funny." You whisper, catching the Duke's full attention he turns completely round to you. Over his shoulder you see Obi-Wan look out at you.

"This feeling inside." Working out what you're doing he begins to mouth the words to you.

"I’m not one of those who can easily hide!" You repeat. "I don’t have much money but if I did Oh, I’d buy a big house where we both could live I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind" you wrap your hands around the Duke's shoulders, dipping your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.

I hope you don't mind, that I put down in words, how wonderful life is now you're in the world." Your eyes flicker over his shoulder to meet Obi-Wan's as you speak the last few words.

The Duke takes in a staggered breath.

"That’s very beautiful." He whispers.

"It’s from Spectacular Spectacular. Suddenly, with you here, I finally understood the true meaning of those words. How wonderful life is now you’re in the world." You are using everything in your arsenal to keep his attention on you as Obi-Wan creeps to the door.

"What meaning is that, my dear?" Your face is close enough that he could kiss you if only your arms were not so stiff.

Obi-Wan sees the Duke's body guard standing outside the door and quickly slams the door shut. It’s loud, too loud and the Duke begins to turn back. You throw yourself on the bed and pretend to sob.

"Duke! Don’t you toy with my emotions! You…you must know the effect you have on women?" You grab the Duke and pull him down on top of you. "Let’s make love! You want to make love, don’t you!?"

The kiss you give him barely touches his lips as you wave to Obi-Wan to go the other way.

He runs there, but stops before he can hide

The Duke begins to unbutton his white shirt above you, unaware of the other man in the room. Obi-Wan stops in his tracks, unsure of what it is he is feeling. A sadness, a pull, an anger. You see him and feel the same way.

"Yes, you’re right, we should wait until opening night." You push the Duke off and Obi-Wan slips into the stairs outside.

"Wait? What?" The Duke stumbles back from the bed. You blink at him, pressing a hand to his chest.

"There’s a power in you that scares me. If I give myself to you now, I could not focus on the play. We should wait until opening night."

You hoped it was enough. The Duke narrowed his eyes on you, a smile slowly forming on his mouth.

"Perhaps you are right. We should have no distractions."

Thankful you pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips.

"I shall dream of you." You whisper into his ear before he leaves.

Obi-Wan steps out from his hiding place and you storm toward him, a dizziness forming in your mind.

"Do you have any idea, what would have happened if you were found-" you couldn't finish your sentence as the world.goes black and you fall into Obi-Wan's arms.

*******************

"Y/n?" Obi-Wan wasn't sure what to do, your body was limp.in his arms. He could feel your life force still beating inside you. Looking around himself he saw the bed close to him. Hiking you higher he drags you onto the bed, tripping on one of the blankets and falling on top of you. A himph leaves his throat as he holds his weight off of you. It doesn't occur to him that his body is just too close to yours. Little did he know this whole time He ri, Satie and the others had been watching from top of the AT-AT. Across the courtyard Zidler the Hutt looked through his telescope. Behind him the door reopens and the Duke steps in.

"I forgot my ha- Foul play?" The Duke narrows his eyes on Obi-Wan. The Jedi leaps backward off the bed.

"She…I…" he gestures between himself and you. Your eyes flicker open and you draw in a deep breath quickly assessing the room.

"Oh, Duke! I'm glad you could make it back. Yes, let me introduce you. The writer." You push yourself up off the bed, stumbling slightly in your heels.

"The writer?" The Duke sceptically asks.

"Yes. Oh yes, we were, we were rehearsing." You push Obi-Wan aside as you step closer to the Duke.

"You expect me to believe that, scantily clad, in the arms of another man, in the middle of the night, inside an Elephant, you were rehearsing?" He spat out the words, gripping your wrist. At that exact moment Henri burst into the room.

"How’s the rehearsal going!? Shall we take it from the top, then, eh y/n?" He is followed by the others. Satie Heads straight to the piano.

"I hope the piano’s in tune" he called out.

"Sorry that we are late." The Twileak fluttered his arms around.

"Can I offer you a drink?" The hairiest of the group holds a bottle out to the Duke as he sneered at the men. With a hand on his chest you guide the Duke's attention back to you. A sweet smile on your lips.

"When I spoke those words to you before, you, you filled me with such inspiration. Yes, I realised how much work we had to do before tomorrow. So I called everyone together for an emergency rehearsal."

The Duke opens his mouth to speak.

"My dear Duke, I’m most terribly sorry!" Zidler wiggled.his large body into the room.

"Zidler! You made it! It’s all right, the Duke knows all about the emergency rehearsal." You give him a pointed look that your employer understands immediately.

"Yes, well, I’m sure Audrey will be only too delighted—"

" The cat’s out of the bag." You slid into the Duke's side pulling him closer to you. "Yes, the Duke’s already a big fan of our new writer’s work. That’s why he’s so keen to invest." You clench your teeth as you look into his eyes.

"Invest?" He speaks to you in Huttese the looks to the Duke "Invest! Oh, yes, well, invest! You can hardly blame me for trying to hide our-"

"Ben." Obi-Wan lied.

"…Ben away!" Zidler waved his hands once again. The Duke curls his top lip back.

"I’m way ahead of you, Zidler." He pushes you away slightly taking a step toward the Hutt.

"My dear Duke…why don’t you and I go to my office to produce the paperwork?" Zidler tried to distract him. You turn nervously back to the other men, your eyes meeting Obi-Wan's. Something about him calms you; like he was reaching out through the space between you. There were stories of the Jedi who could do that, though you had never met one.

"What’s the story?" The Duke's voice catches your attention, "if I’m to invest, I’ll need to know the story."

Zidler turns his attention to Henri, silently begging him to answer.

"Well, well, the stories, the stories about, Well, it’s, it’s about, um" the Jawa looks to Obi-Wan

"It’s about love" he says the words as if it was obvious.

"Love?" The idea seemed disgusting to the Duke.

Obi-Wan takes a breath, "It’s about love overcoming all obstacles. It's set on Naboo and there’s a Courtesan…the most beautiful courtesan in all the world but her kingdom’s invaded by an evil Senator. Now, in order to save her kingdom, She has to seduce the Evil Senator but, on the night of the seduction, she mistakes a Penniless P--…Penn…Penniless…Penniless Kloo Horn

Player for the Evil Senator, and she falls in love with him!" Obi-Wan recalled the story from a fairytale of his childhood. He turned to you, and as if to clarify he says, "He wasn’t trying to trick her or anything but he was dressed as a richer man because he’s appearing in a play."

Everyone is quiet listening to him tell the story.

"Well, the Penniless Kloo Player and the Courtesan, they have to hide their love from the Senator."

Satie interrupts. "The Penniless Kloo Player’s Kloo Horn is magical! It can only speak the truth!" They all cheer at the idea.

"Yes, and he gives the game away!" The Duke chuckles, feeling himself being swept up in the joy of his companions. They all cheer along with him.

Zidler turns the Duke toward him, "The show will be a magnificent, opulent, tremendous, stupendous, gargantuan bedazzlement! A sensual ravishment! It will be Spectacular Spectacular No words in the vernacular Can describe this great event, You’ll be dumb with wonderment. Returns are fixed at ten percent

You must agree that’s excellent." He has turned the Duke toward the doors but cannot keep him. Spinning away from the Hurt the Duke turns back to Obi-Wan.

"What happens in the end?"

"The lovers are pulled apart by an evil plan." Obi-Wan gulps out. You grab the Duke's arm once more pulling him toward you.

"But in the end she hears his call and their love is just too strong." She almost whispers the words to him.

"Will someone die?" The Duke asks almost amused at the thought. You glance back at the others.

"We shall see, your input is of course always welcomed."

"Generally I like it." The Duke laughed following zidler from the room as the others celebrated.

Zidler had an investor, and the Bohemians had a show. While the celebration party raged upstairs, I tried to write. But all I could think about was her.

Was she thinking about me?

You and Obi-Wan can just see each other across the Red Mill, through your respective windows. Obi-Wan watches as you, now redressed in the red gown, walk up the metal steps to the pagoda on top of the AT-AT.

The last of his resolve dissipates into the music bove him and Obi-Wan leaves his room. He climbs up the walker using the decorative ropes until he is standing behind you. His footsteps alert you and you jump.

"Sorry. Sorry, I didn’t mean…I saw your light on, and I…I climbed up the-"

"What?" You eye him with confused thoughts.

"I couldn’t sleep, and I want-I wanted to thank you for helping me get the job." He fumbles out the words. You smile, though it doesn't reach your eyes.

"Of course. Yes, Henri was right. You’re…you’re very talented." His eyes drop, an emotion you didn't quite catch. "It’s going to be a wonderful show." There is a beat of silence between you.

"Anyway, I’d better go, because we…uh, we both have a big day tomorrow." You sigh and turn away.

"Wait! No, please, wait." Obi-Wan reaches out for you but doesn't touch you. You turn your head just enough to see him.

"Before, when we were…when we were…when you thought I was the Duke, you said that you loved me. An-and I wondered if…if—"

"If it was just…an act?" You say now turning all the way round to face him.

"Yes!" His eyes were bright like a child.

"Of course." You know there is a lie in there.

His smile falls. "Oh, it just felt…real."

You approach him, desperate to ease his mind. "Ben, I’m a courtesan. I’m paid to make men believe what they want to believe."

"Yes…Silly of me to think that you could…fall in love with someone like me." His words are simple yet filled with too many emotions.

"I can’t fall in love with anyone." You sigh.

A strange smile graces his face, "Can’t fall in love? I understand that."

Curious, you take one more step toward him.

"Where are you from?" You ask and Obi-Wan knows you are more intuitive than you first seemed.

"I am from an order, they're all gone now. We weren't allowed to…" his eyes threatened tears and you felt the same pull to him you felt earlier. It occurred to him then standing in front of you that he had been a fool. The opportunity for love had been handed to him on Mandalore yet he chose to turn away from it. His heart had been broken not one week ago by Anakin turning to the darkside. Proof that he had grown too attached to the man. Obi-Wan knew he had the capacity to love, perhaps this time he would let himself. Searching back through his mind he thought of Master Ruhan and the poems he had written.

"Love is a many-splendored thing, love lifts us up where we belong, all you need is love." It was like he finally understood the words.

"Please, don’t start that again." You shake your head.

" all you need is love." He steps toward you.

"Love is just a game." You whisper, knowing you were already under his spell, "the only way to love me is to pay." You hope the words will break you out of it.

Obi-Wan stops, his hand floating in the space between you, his eyes looking into your own.

"Y/n, I have been starved and I think you have as well. Just one night and then I promise I'll leave you alone."

Your heart breaks a little. You know you should be standing your ground. Say no to him, turn away but you can't. Your body is drawn to him. Grabbing his hand you pull Obi-Wan down the stairs back into the AT-AT. The electricity that sparks through your skin is enough to have you pull him into you and press your lips to his. That was it, the moment it all broke for both of you. Two people, raised to never love, connect by your hearts.

"You're going to be bad for business, I can tell." You giggle between kisses.

************************

How wonderful life was, now Satine was in the world. But, in the Duke, Zidler had gotten much more than he had bargained for.

Duke Valru sits across from Zidler in his office. The large green slug-like Alien fiddles with contracts on his desk.

"Conversion of the Moulin Rouge into a theatre will cost a fantastic sum of money, Zidler." Valru spoke with narrowed eyes, "So, in return, I would require a contract that, um, binds y/n to me, exclusively. Naturally, I shall require some security. I shall require the deeds to the Red Mill."

Zidler baulks at the idea

"My dear Duke I-"

"Please! Don’t think that I’m naïve, Zidler. I shall hold the deeds to the Red Mill and if there are any shenanigans my man-servant, Warner," A Besker clad man stepped into the room, folding his hands in front of him, "will deal with it in the only language that you underworld show-folk understand. Y/n will be mine. It’s not that I’m a jealous man. I just don’t like other people touching my things!" The last few words came out as a yell, Valru calmed himself with several shallow breaths.

"I understand completely, Duke." Zidler gulps.

"Good. Now that we have an understanding, it would appear that, uh…you have the means to transform your beloved Red Mill into a theatre." His smile makes even the Hutt squirm. One thing about this new virgining Empire gave them was a freedom for the slime of the galaxy to rise into power.

"I shall woo y/n over supper, tonight." Valru growled before marching out of the office. Zidler watches, an uneasy feeling wiggling inside him.

"The show must go on." He says to the blue Twi'lek woman beside him.

Yes, the show would go on. But Satine would not attend the supper that night, or the following night.

You, Obi-Wan, and Henri are all in Obi-Wan's room. You are sitting in your robe on the bed, your eyes watching Obi-Wan's every move. Henri is preparing food, and Obi-Wan is explaining the stuff he’s written.

"Fantastic!" Henri exclaims at the delightful scene. Obi-Wan continues, throwing his arms around in animated joy.

"Mad with jealousy, the Evil Maharajah forces the Courtesan to make the Penniless Sitar Player believe she doesn’t love him!"

"That’s…oh, yes!" Henri laughs.

“Thank you for curing me of my ridiculous obsession with love!” says the Penniless Sitar Player, throwing money at her feet, and leaving the kingdom forever!" Obi-Wan jumps onto the bed, you reach up and pull him down to you.

"Oh, but a life without love! That’s terrible!" You smile. He nuzzles into your shoulder.

"Yes…but, the Kloo Player’s…

"Wait!" Henri runs to the bedside.

"-Magical Kloo-"

"That’s my part, Ben! That’s my part! That’s my part Ben." Henri laughs, "Don’t you dare! The Magical Kloo who can only speak the truth says he says-"

The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.

Days past them all by, y/n would insist on my attendance to all her meetings with the Duke.

*******************

Try as the Duke may, it was almost too easy for the young writer and the lead actress to invent perfectly legitimate reasons to avoid him.

Love grew where I had thought it never could, until darkness fell over the Red Mill.

The rehearsal day was over, you stole away behind a curtain, Obi-Wan pushed against the wall as you kissed him.

"You'll come tonight?" He asks and you nod, "what time?"

"Eight o'clock." You giggle.

Zidler's voice speaking in Huttese echoed across the dancehall.

"Nice work, family! Bright and early tomorrow morning we begin on Act II: The Lovers Are Discovered!"

"Zidler!" The Duke marches over to him.

The Hutt turns, his eyes glancing over to where you stood, your hands around Obi-Wan.

"My dear Duke! Everything is arranged for that special supper in the Temple Tower tonight."

"You might as well eat it yourself, Zidler. " he spat, "Her affections are waning."

"Impossible!" Zidler nervously chuckles.

"I understand how important her work is to her, but she’s always at it with that damn writer! If I don’t see her tonight, I’m very well leaving!"

"No!! My dear Duke…I’ll insist y/n take the night off." He turns him away.

"All right…all right. Eight o’clock, then." He leaves satisfied.

Zidler slides himself around grumbling under his breath as he moves to you. Obi-Wan had already darted away to another room before he approached you. Zidler grabbed your arms, lifting you onto your tiptoes and hissed in Huttese.

"Are you mad? The Duke holds the deeds to the Moulin Rouge! He’s spending a fortune on you. He’s given you a beautiful new dressing room, he wants to make you a star. And you’re dallying with the writer!"

"Oh, no, don’t be ridicul-"

"I saw you together" he cuts you off.

"It’s nothing. It’s just an infatuation, it’s…it’s nothing." You lie.

Zidler pushes you against the wall using his large body to trap you there, his hot breath fanned out over your face.

"The infatuation will end. Go to the boy. Tell him it’s over. The Duke is expecting you in the Tower at Eight."

Your heart sinks as he slithers away. Marie the Blue Twi'lek, and the oldest woman in the Red Mill, helps you to dress. As she pulls the strings of the corset you feel your chest tighten, your throat running dry. A fit of coughing takes over your body, sweat dripping from your face. Marie holds you as you try to walk.

How could I know, in those last fatal days, that a force darker than jealousy and stronger than love had begun to take hold of Satine?

Chocolat the resident Wookie watches in fear as you cough and eventually pass out.

Obi-wan waits expectantly for you in his room, standing by the window. He had no idea what was happening to you, but his mind began to wander. Obi-Wan dejectedly walks back into his table. He slumps down and looks at the datapad he had been writing the play on. The words all melted into one so he tosses it aside.

'Obi-Wan what are you doing?' He scolds himself. Why had he allowed this? Allowed himself.to fall so quickly into a world he had always kept away from. So many years denying the part of himself that this woman had freed within moments of meeting her. Was it the grief of losing the world he had known? The memories that plagued his dreams of destroying the boy he had promised to care for? The fear of becoming just like him? Or did he want to feel something, anything that was not death and destruction? The once great General Kenobi, now just Ben, a penniless, broken man with nothing but his love for a woman. A woman who did not come at eight, nine, ten or eleven. No.

All night he waited, and now, for the first time, he felt the cold stab of jealousy

You did not arrive at his door until six in the morning, before the suns had risen above the deserts. Your face was sullen, dark circles under your eyes, clad only in your underclothes and a robe, the usual corset forgotten in your bedroom.

Obi-Wan stops writing and looks up at you from the table, pained eyes blinking. You cough softly, the back of your hand pressing to your lips.

"Where were you last night?" He asks, trying to ignore the break in his voice.

"I told you, I was sick." You breathe out.

Obi-Wan gets up and sits beside you on the bed.

"You don’t have to lie to me." He could feel the conflict inside you. Frustrated, you turn away from him, holding back your emotions.

"We have to end it." You whisper, "Everyone knows. Zidler knows. Sooner or later, the Duke will find out, too."

Obi-Wan turns his back on you not believing your words; heartbreak forming in his chest.

"On opening night, I have to sleep with the Duke." You stand and walk to the window, "And the jealousy will drive you mad."

Knowing he should be better than this he stands and heads quickly to you.

"Ben-" you hold him back, tears dropping from both your eyes. Ben cups your face with his hand. He has no experience in this, nothing to tell him what to do but instinct and poems by a dead man.

"Then, we’ll write a song and we’ll put it in the show and no matter how bad things get, or whatever happens, whenever you hear it, or when you sing it, or whistle it, or hum it"

Kisses your forehead, "then you’ll know, it’ll mean…it’ll mean that we love one another! I won’t get jealous." He knows his words are like, of course he'll get jealous, he already is.

Attachment, the one thing he had never been allowed, the thing that had taken away his brother. This was a bad idea.

"Things don’t work that way, Ben. We have to end it." You sigh and walk away.

That afternoon in rehearsals Obi-Wan sits beside Satie by the piano.

"Now, this new scene is the scene where the Sitar Player writes a secret song for the Courtesan, so that whatever is happening, however bad things are…they remember their love." His eyes catch yours and you smile at him.

"And, um…we could take it from your line, y/n. So, let’s take it. Let’s take it, if we may-" you note the way his voice cracks and he turns his eyes away from you. The soft piano music begins and you look at the data pad with your script.

The song is perfect in every way; each word pours his love into your heart. A warmth filling you that try to send back. Your eyes flick between your Twi'lek costar and Obi-Wan.

On of the dancers slinks across the room, her body clad in half costume half underwear. She leans down to the Duke, sitting alone on a wooden chair.

"This ending’s silly. Why would the Courtesan go for the Penniless Writer? Oops! I mean Kloo Player."

She gives him a look like he’s an idiot for not seeing it yet, then bounces her eyes between you and Obi-Wan. The Duke seems to make the connection, following her eyeline. Nini goes back to the other Dancers and they share a laugh. Valru takes in a long pointed breath and stands, his neck twisting as he stretches it.

"I don’t like this ending."

Everyone droops in confusion turning to him.

"Don’t like the ending, my dear Duke?" Zidler asks sliding in front of the stage.

"Why would the Courtesan choose a Penniless Kloo Player over the Senator, who is offering a lifetime of security? That’s real love. Once the Kloo Player has satisfied his lust, he will leave the Courtesan with nothing. I suggest that, in the end, the Courtesan choose the Senator." He knew every word would cause a reaction in all of them and he hoped for it. Henri charged forward, his small stature made up for by his anger.

"But…but, but sorry! Sorry, but that ending does not uphold the bohemian ideals of truth, beauty, freedom and lov-"

"I don’t care about your ridiculous dogma!" The Duke shouts, "there is a new Empire now why shouldn’t the Courtesan choose the Senator!?"

Obi-Wan's anger tumbles over the threshold; he stands and shouts.

"Because she doesn’t love you!"

There is a Lllong, horrified pause, as everyone stares at Obi-Wan, who slowly realises what he’s just done.

"Him…him, she doesn’t love…she doesn’t love him." He stumbles backward.

Valru looks back at you, his jaw clenching, "Now I see. Zidler, this ending will be rewritten with the Courtesan choosing the Senator and without the lovers’ secret song. It will be rehearsed in the morning, ready for the opening tomorrow night."

"But, my dear Duke! That will be quite impossible"

You place a hand on Zidler, stepping past him, putting on a brilliant façade that you had been taught early on.

"Zidler the poor Duke is being treated appallingly! These silly writers let their imaginations run away with them." You laugh and approach the Duke, "Now why don’t you and I have a little supper and then, afterwards, we can let Zidler know how we would prefer the story to end, Hm?"

You can feel Obi-Wan is watching them, agony radiating from him.

The Duke agrees with you, leaning in to whisper in your ear. His words freeze your body. You nod and wait for him to leave the dancehall before letting out your breath.

Backstage, you are heading to her dressing room when Obi-Wan stops you. His hand snakes around your arm, holding you gently.

"I don’t want you to sleep with him." He whispers. You lay your forehead on his.

"He could destroy everything." You kiss his cheek, "It’s for us."

He shakes his head, holding back the tears in his eyes.

"You promised. You promised me you wouldn’t be jealous, you- It will be alright." Unsure if you were trying to convince him or yourself. He shakes his head again, unable to look you in the eyes. "Yes, it will…He’s waiting." You try to turn away but he reaches out to stop you, begging

"No…no…"

"Ben, come what may, remember." You whisper.

"Come what may." He whispers back finally allowing you to leave.

She had gone to the tower to save us all. And for our part, we could do nothing but wait.

In the Red Mill everyone seems concerned, sitting around the dancehall. Obi-Wan takes a swig of Tatooine wine. Nini saunters over, a mocking grin on her face as she Plops herself on Obi-wan’s lap.

"Don’t worry, you’ll get your ending. Once the Duke gets his…end…in." She laughs. Obi-Wan pushes her off his lap, almost lunging at her. Several male and female dancers jump between them.

"You get your hands off me!" She shouts.

The Narcoleptic Twi'lek holds a hand to Obi-Wan's chest after comforting Nini.

"Never fall in love with a woman who sells herself. It always ends bad!" The last word reverberates through the room. Everyone jumps a little. Henri watches, totally drunk. Obi-Wan looks ready to cry.

"We have a dance! In the brothels of Ryloth.

Tells the story of a prostitute and a man who falls in love with her."

He pulls Nini to him and they start to dance, mimicking what the Twi'lek is saying.

"First, there is desire. Then, passion. Then, suspicion, jealousy, anger, betrayal! When love is for the highest bidder, there can be no trust. Without trust, there is no love! Jealousy…yes, jealousy will drive you mad!"

Obi-Wan watches as the dancers converge on Nini, passing her between them in a tango. As anger bubbles inside his chest Obi-Wan pulls a thick coat around himself and walks, eyes glued on the door. The dancers move around him.

Inside his mind he is reminded of Ruhan's last poem

HIS EYES UPON YOUR FACE

HIS HAND UPON YOUR HAND

HIS LIPS CARESS YOUR SKIN

IT’S MORE THAN I CAN STAND

WHY DOES MY HEART CRY

FEELINGS I CAN’T FIGHT?

YOU’RE FREE TO LEAVE ME

BUT JUST DON’T DECEIVE ME

AND PLEASE BELIEVE ME WHEN I SAY

I LOVE YOU

The words finally echoed his own heart as it shattered apart. The cool of the night air hits him and he walks mind clouded through the courtyard.

There is a force that stops him, halting his feet. A small voice calling out through the Force. He looks up to the balcony of the tower, seeing you standing there. Your eyes meet as the Duke steps up behind you, his hand snaking around your body. His lips whisper into your ear.

The sight makes Obi-Wan feel sick, dropping his eyes to the sand below his feet and walks back to his room in the building across the roadway.

****************

In his room Obi-Wan crumbles, dropping to his knees as objects fly about the room, folding in on themselves. He sees no way of fighting his own emotions, they are too strong and hold too much power.

"No" he Huff's out the word, pushing himself back to his feet. He will not let this defeat him. Reminding himself that he must hide his Jedi heritage he cleans the room by hand. Throwing away every broken object away or hiding it in the closet.

Tired and broken Obi-Wan presses his head to the window allowing the glass to cool him.

The door swings open behind him and Chocolat this Wookie stands behind you. Tears stain your face.

"Y/n?" Obi-Wan runs to you, noting that you were no longer in your black dress, but your underwear.

"I couldn’t! I couldn’t go through with it! I saw you there and I felt terribly and I couldn’t pretend." You sob, "And the Duke, he saw! He saw and he…and he… Christian, I love you."

Obi-Wan pulls you into him, holding you tightly to his chest.

"It’s okay" he whispers.

You shake your head, "And I couldn’t do it; I didn’t want to pretend anymore. I didn’t want to lie, I don’t want," you pull back a bit. "And he knows. He knows, he saw" you're panicking chest rising and falling rapidly.

"It’s all right; you don’t have to pretend anymore. We’ll leave. We’ll leave tonight." He isn't sure what he is saying.

"Leave? But…the show…"

"I don’t care.I don’t care about the show. We have each other, and that’s all that matters."

A sad smile creeps onto your face and you feel all of him.

"Yes. As long as we have each other" you kiss him.

Obi-Wan Grabs the coat he had worn earlier and wraps.it around your shoulder.

"Chocolat, take Miss y/n to her dressing room and get the things she needs. No one must see you, do you understand?" The Wookie nods.

"Darling, you go and pack. And I’ll be waiting." You laugh tearfully kissing him.

Chocolat rushes you back info the Red Mill to your dressing room. You dart about packing up her things into a small bag, when you sees Zidler in the mirror and whirl to face him in surprise. Marie is there, too.

"Forgive the intrusion, Cherub." He sighs.

You turn and put her own coat on, having taken off Obi-Wan's

"You’re wasting your time, Zidler." You say turning away from him.

"Albeit. You don’t understand. The Duke is going to kill Ben."

You gasp a little at his words, looking at yourself self in the mirror.

"No…" Tears are already building up in your eyes.

"The Duke is insanely jealous. Unless you do his ending and sleep with him tomorrow night, the Duke will have Ben killed."

Composing yourself you turn back to Zidler.

"He can’t scare us." You know it's a lie.

"He’s a powerful man. You know he can do it." Zidler is almost begging you.

You stare at him for a moment and then throw your coat off, picking up your things. Zidler slithers closer to you.

"What are you doing?" He asks.

You cannot stop the tears falling as you replace Obi-Wan's coat on your shoulders.

"I don’t need you anymore! All my life, you me believe I was only worth what someone would pay for me! But Ben loves me. He loves me, Zidler. He loves me, and that is worth everything! We’re going away from you, away from the Duke, away from the Red Mill! Goodbye, Zidler." You Turn to the door, toward the Wookie.

"You’re dying, y/n.You’re dying." Zidler finally admits.

Your breath halts for a moment, a light cough reminding you of the days you'd lied in bed.

"Another trick?" You're hopeful.

"No, My Love. The doctor told us." The way his eyes look at you shows you how sorrowful the Hutt is.

"Marie?" You ask one last spark of hope. Marie just looks at you, tears shining in her own eyes. You take a few moments to digest it all

"I’m dying" you whisper, accepting the news.

"Send Christian away. Only you can save him." Zidler implores you.

"He’ll fight for me." You speak through your tears.

"Yes. Unless he believes you don’t love him."

"What?" You look at him.

"You’re a great actress, Satine. Make him believe you don’t love him. Use your talent to save him. Hurt him. Hurt him to save him. There is no other way. The show must go on, y/n. We are creatures of the underworld of Tatooine. We can’t afford to love."

You fall into the chair at the dressing table.

Zidler leaves your dressing room, slithering through the backstage area if the dance hall and he speaks,

"Another hero, another mindless crime

Behind the curtain, in the pantomime on and on, does anybody know what we are living for? Whatever happens, we leave it all chance, another heartache, another failed romance." He reaches the stage, where people are working and things are still being built. Moving down the aisle to the other side of the theatre he continues

"The show must go on outside the dawn is breaking, on the stage that holds our final destiny."

Maria turns back to you, having dressed you in a grey outfit that covered your body.

"The show must go on." She says, quiet and sad.

With your heart broken inside your chest you walk as if condemned to Obi-Wan's room, knocking on the door.

"What’s wrong?" He asks when he sees your stoic eyes.

"I’m staying with the Duke. After I left you, the Duke came to see me and he offered me everything. Everything that I’ve ever dreamed of, he'll take me away from here to the capitals. He has one condition. I must never see you again. I’m sorry." You announce still in the doorway.

"What are you talking about?" Obi-Wan doesn't understand.

You move away from him as he steps closer, and avoid eye contact with him.

"You knew who I was." You say.

"What are you saying? What about last night, what we said?" He feels himself beginning to beg you.

You slink around him, not allowing him to touch you.

"I don’t expect you to understand. The difference between you and I is that you can leave any time you choose but this is my home. The Red Mill is my home." You turn away from him to hide your pain.

"No," he can feel several emotions warring inside you, "there must be something else, this can’t be real, you-"

You're breathing a little too rapidly, either from your disease, or from holding back tears, though you suspect it is both.

"There’s something the matter, tell me what it is?" Obi-Wan tries to hold your hands but you hurry past him and out the door, coughing a few times. Ben catches you at the door, anger creeping to the surface rapidly.

"Tell me what’s wrong! Tell me the truth! Tell me the truth!"

Yanking your arm away from him you look him in the eye.

"The truth? The truth is I am the Naboo Courtesan, and I choose the Senator. That’s how the story really ends." You try to hold onto your sibs. Your eyes hold onto each other for a moment, before he lets you go.

A sand storm gathers on the horizon, Ben's heart has almost visibly been ripped in half. He trembles and staggers back to the bed.

*********************

Obi-Wan stands outside the doors to the Red Mill as sand bellows around him.

"Y/n, y/n!" He calls out.

You sit at your window, tears streaming down your cheeks as you watch two guards grab Ben’s arms and haul him across the street. Your name breaking through the thunderous noise of the sand. One guard hits him hard across the face and they walk away as he falls to the wet concrete. He had been through many wars but this was a different pain. Obi-Wan is carried inside by Satie and the others, lying him on his bed with a bruise forming on his cheekbone above his beard.

The day wears on. The storm passes and the rich of Tatooine file into the dancehall.

Ben sits on his bed with a blanket wrapped around him, and stares off numbly toward the window. Henri stands by the bed, smiling comfortingly.

"Things aren’t always as they seem." He tries to reassure the old Jedi.

"Things are exactly the way they seem." Obi-Wan rebutes.

"Ben, you may see me only as a drunken, vice-ridden Jawa whose friends are just pimps and girls from the brothels. But I know about art and love, if only because I long for it with every fibre of my being. She loves you. I know it, I know she loves you." His tiny body seems too out of place in this broken room.

"Go away, Henri. Leave me alone. Go. Away. Go away!" Obi-Wan shouts, behind Henri a plate shoots from the table and snacks against the wall. Henri, glances at it, takes his coat and leaves, with a last sad look at his tormented friend.

I wanted to shut out what Toulouse had said. But he had filled me with doubt, and there was only one way to be sure.

I had to know.

So I returned to the Red Mill. One last time.

Inside the Red Mill, the show is just starting.

******************

The play goes on, the crows cheer and laugh, they sing and cry along with the characters. The Duke sits amongst his personal guests, his eyes fixed on you as you dance around the stage. Unaware that Obi-Wan was sneaking into the building, his Jedi training finally came into action. He moves through the dressing rooms staying behind costumes rails and curtains. Slipping behind actors one sees the tail of his tunic and the whispering begins.

With their parts ended Henri and Twi'lek are walking up a set of steps backstage. Henri taps his chin.

"There has to be a reason, I know she still loves him." He thinks out loud.

"How about one of them is a Duke and the other-" the Twi'lek's sentence is cut off by his narcolepsie taking control of him and he falls down the stairs right in front of Obi-Wan. Thinking quickly the Jedi removes his simple tunic and slips on the Twi'lek's elaborate costume.

Whilst this was happening you had run back to your dressing room to change into your last costume, the wedding dress. Your chest tightens and you feel a hot, thick liquid fill your throat. You spit it out onto a cloth, seeing the redness stain the material. Finally you understood your employer had not been lying. A shuffle and knocking of your things behind you catches your attention and you spin round to see Obi-Wan in the doorway.

At the edge of the stage Werner, grabs Zidler, who is now backstage, where Henri can see and hear them.

"The boy is here." The helmeted man states, angrily.

"We told y/n that if Ben were to come here, he’d be killed!" The Hutt gawks.

"He very soon will be." Werner pulls his blaster from It's holster.

Obi-Wan walks into your dressing room. You stare at each other for a moment.

Henri runs around behind the stage hoping to find Obi-Wan.

"He’ll be killed? That’s it…that’s why she’s pushing him away, to save him. That’s it, that’s it. Ben!" He cries out as the platform he’s on is raised up higher. Sees Warner moving quickly down the corridor.

"No! Don’t—Oh, God, this is high up!" He says to himself as he rises higher and higher.

"I’ve come to pay my bill." Obi-Wan chicks on the words. You hurry past him.

"You shouldn’t be here, Ben. Just leave.' You hope he'll listen. Obi-Wan stares off for a moment and then turns and follows you. As you rush away to get to your mark your breath becomes shallow, straining with each intake. Obi-Wan follows, hot on your heels.

"You did your job so very, very well!" He spits out at you, attempting to grab for you wrist.

"She’s got to get on stage" Marie hisses at the stage manager.

Obi-Wan follows you up a set of wooden steps.

"Why can’t I pay you like everyone else does!?" Tears are freely falling from his eyes. You turn to him, pleading with every part of your body.

"Don’t. Enn, there’s no point. Just leave."

You spin and run again, still Ben chasing after her again.

One of the stage hands grabs at Obi-Wan's shoulders pulling him back but he uses his training to slip out of his grasp and punch him. Ensuring the man falls safely to the ground Obi-Wan looks around trying to find you once more. You're stood atop a stage platform, eyes wide. A gun is pointing past you toward Obi-Wan and you gasp.

Feeling Obi-Wan ascend the steps you spin once more to face Obi-Wan, sobbing, begging and trying to block the blasters path.

"Go…go…" your tears match his.

Obi-Wan holds out wupiupi cash out for you.

"If it wasn’t real, why can’t I pay you?" His words cut through you.

Behind the door next to you, you can hear Zidler's voice as recites the lines of the play.

"Let me pay! Let me pay!" Obi-Wan pants.

You turn your head just enough to see Werner getting closer. Your hands grab at Obi-Wan's jacket, as your chest tightens further.

"Tell me it wasn’t real! Tell me" his words had turned to begging.

The door to the stage opens, revealing you and Obi-Wan. His hands on your wrists and you kneeling on the floor.

"Tell me you don’t love me!" He whispers as you sob but say nothing.

"Tell me you don’t love me!" He shouts. There is a murmur among the crowd, enlighten you both to their presence. The Duke pulls back his top lip, showing his teeth as anger ignites under his skin.

Panicking Zidler slithers across the stage.

"Hahaha! I am not fooled! Though he has shaved off his beard, and dons a disguise, my eyes do not lie! For it is he, the same Penniless Kloo Player! Driven mad by jealousy" He calls out, the audience murder again in a unified realisation.

Obi-Wan drags you by the wrist down the stage a bit, and lets you fall back to the floor. You cough trying to catch your breath between sobs. He moves away from you speaking apparently to Zidler's character, but actually to the Duke.

"This woman is yours now." He throws the bag of money to the floor next to you and it spills out across the stage. "I’ve paid my whore." His eyes turn to you as you gaze up at him, with tears flowing from your eyes. "I owe you nothing and you’re nothing to me." Obi-Wan chicks on his own sobs, "Thank you for curing me of my ridiculous obsession with love." He walks off the stage, everyone behind him knows how real this is, and Obi-Wan stops to stare at the Duke for a moment before walking down the aisle.

Henri claps a hand to his forehead, "I can’t remember my line" below him Zidler attempts to stay in character and get you to stand. Henri tries to remember, his eyes darting around himself. Seeing that Obi-Wan is leaving, Werner replaces his blaster and begins to move away from the stage.

You try to compose yourself, pushing up to stand, your tear filled eyes looking at Zidler.

"I’ve got it! I’ve got it! Ben!" Henri shouts at the top of his voice interrupting Zidler. His silly costume tripping him and he starts to fall to the stage, catching himself, dangling from the platforms.

"The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return!" As his voice echoes, something inside you seems to click, the actors on stage and the audience glance between each other. The Duke scowls up at you as you slowly turn around. You sing,

"NEVER KNEW I COULD FEEL LIKE THIS"

He stops briefly, Obi-Wan's face nearly crumbles, and he slowly starts to walk again. He is sure this is just a cruel game you're hell bent on playing.

"LIKE I’VE NEVER SEEN THE SKY BEFORE

WANT TO VANISH INSIDE YOUR KISS" you continue. Obi-Wan stops again. It sounds so real, the pull of your force signature screaming at him.

"EVERY DAY I’M LOVING YOU MORE AND MORE

LISTEN TO MY HEART, CAN YOU HEAR IT SING?"

He turns slowly, and sees that it is real you're calling to him with your eyes and your voice. Life seems to float back into his eyes and a smile tugs at his lips.

"COME BACK TO ME AND FORGIVE EVERYTHING!"

The high note makes you take a gasp for air, nearly coughing. The Duke smiles, having no idea that you are singing to Obi-Wan. The Jedi is watching you, tearful with happiness. Satie conducts the orchestra in gentle music to accompany your words.

"SEASONS MAY CHANGE, WINTER TO SPRING

I love you.

‘TIL THE END OF TIME"

Finally Obi-Wan breaks,

"COME WHAT MAY" he begins the male part of the song, "COME WHAT MAY

COME WHAT MAY," he heads up to the stage, as you walking downstage to meet him, "COME WHAT MAY

I WILL LOVE YOU"

The song continues around you both, the actors and dancers joining in. The Duke growls.under his breath and speaks into a communicator on his wrist. The Mandalorian man servant draws his balster and aims at Obi-Wan as he holds you. Henri spies him and leaps from the platform he had been holding onto.

"Christian! He’s got a gun!" His fall knocks the blaster from Werner's hands and topples them both to the ground. The blaster slides along the stage.

"They’re trying to kill you!" Henri shouts, getting to his feet. The audience laughs at Henri.

Chaos breaks out across the dancehall, people running around and screaming as Werner tries to dash for his gun. His movements trigger a bunch of flashes to go off on stage, and everyone runs around crazily. Chocolat kicks Warner in the head a few times, and manages to kick the gun away. It falls from the stage with a think right at the Duke's feet. He had stood to leave, anger piping from his red hot ears. Hearing the blaster clatter to the aisle behind him he turns. The cast continue to sing out their hearts. The Duke picks up the blaster, holding it out in front of him

The chorus lifts up you and Obi-Wan.

"I WILL LOVE YOU" the sing is hitting it's crescendo.

The Duke rushes to the stage, with the gun pointed at Obi-Wan.

"My way! My way! My way!! My way!" He screams out like a feral beast.

Zidler spins and flicks out his tail hitting the Duke across the face, before he gets there. The Duke falls and the blaster spins away.

The entire cast sing the last words of the song.

"‘TIL MY DYING DAY"

The Duke sits up dejectedly as the curtain falls. The audience gives a standing ovation, applauding wildly. The entire cast is ecstatic, all laughing and congratulating each other. Obi-Wan presses a kiss to your lips, happiness waving off him. Somewhere behind the stage manager calls out.

"Stand by for curtain call! Dancers, positions please!"

Obi-Wan starts to pull you over for curtain call. Stepping away from you just slightly. You can't move, your chest feels like it's on fire, every breath burning your throat. You begin to fall as Obi-Wan looks back to you and he catches you. The smile fades from his face.

"Y/n?"

You begin to cough violently. Henri, Zidler, and other cast members notice what’s happening, their smiles replaced with dread.

"Y/n, what’s the matter?" Obi-Wan asks, holding you in his arms, the coughing eases but you know it isn't a good sign. His knees buckle sending you both to the floor, though he tries to slow your fall.

"What? Darling,darling, what’s the matter? Darling Y/n, what’s the matter?"

Your breathing is raspy and violent, worse than it’s been yet. The noise around him all but silences in his ears. You cough again.

"Gods, Oh my God" Obi-Wan breaths out, Seeing blood dripping from your mouth and touched it with his thumb. Finally Obi-Wan understood his Padawan. The way his mouth ran dry and dripped with spit at the same time. Tears fell freely, staining his face.

"Somebody get some help!" He screamed out.

"Hold the curtain! Fetch the doctor!" Zidler hissed to his stage manager.

You reach up to him, your arm feeling to heavy.

"I’m sorry, Christian…I…I’m…I’m…I’m dying." You say as loud as you can muster your voice. Your lover refuses to believe it.

"Shhh…shhh…it’s all right." He holds on to you. The cast is all watch on, silently.

Every breath hurts you

"I’m so sorry." You whisper.

"No, you’ll be alright. You’ll be alright." Obi-Wan's tears drip onto your face. You wish you could believe him.

"Cold…I’m cold…cold. Hold me." You say to him, hoping his heat would change something. Obi-Wan holds you close to him, he searches the faces around him, afraid of their pained expression. He smiles a little for you.

"I love you." He says so only you can hear.

You smiles back, and can only whisper.

"You’ve got to go on, Ben."

His voice breaks as he speaks.

"Can’t go on without you, though." He attempts to laugh but it comes.out as a sob.

"You’ve got so much to give" You reach up and touch his face as he tries to hold back his tears.

"Don't hide away forev, Ben. The world needs you."

He shakes his head and starts to weep harder.

"No…"

"Yes… Promise me. Promise me. Don't shut yourself off from the force." He gulps realising you knew what he was. "That way, I’ll…I’ll always be with you." He nods to you, pulling you closer to him again.

You take a few soft, gasping breaths, smiling at Obi-Wan as he weeps and kisses you one last time.

As he pulls back, the force tells him as his heart breaks in two. You are dead. He cradles your body as coloured paper still floats around you. There isn't a dry eye amongst the cast. Beyond the curtain the audience continue their applause, unaware of your demise. The Duke boards his ship scowling back at the Bordello.

Days turned into weeks.

Weeks turned into months. And then, one not-so-very special day, I went to my datapad, I sat down, and I wrote our story.

A story about a time, a story about a place, a story about the people but above all things, a story about love.

A love that will live forever in the heart of a once great Jedi.

My story does not end here, there would be adventures yet to have but my heart stayed forever within the walls of the RED MILL.

The end.

#obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi #sw rots #star wars fanfiction #star wars #moulin rouge

[kneamet]

le désir de peindre

Trigger Warning: angst, obsession, depressive thoughts, drabble

Word Count: 631

Character: christian/reader

le désir de peindre

When Satine died, it as if Christian had been sentenced to death. Madness, stinginess, and greed, and debauchery corroded the soul and body.

He no longer grieved for her, did not remember her; Satine became a memory, a faded spot in his story, written on a clattering typewriter. She wanted it, and he forgot her — the memory of her was scattered like ashes in the wind, turned into a closed book. Christian hated, blamed himself, lived in dreams and constant oblivion. In those days, in that year when his faith in sincere, all-consuming love remained in his soul, in those times when he gave himself to his heart, and not to his mind, Christian took the cross: his only friend become a bottle. He stayed at home, alone — looking for love, but found only loneliness and indifference — thinking about songs of pain, despair. About the fact that it was behind this window that he, ecstatically, stroked Satin's hands.

Looking for himself, Christian stood there unconsciously, but now he was burning brighter than the Gamma with Omega, stopped catching the elusive time with his hands and worked, again with childish trepidation he gave himself to work, to a new book. He had her, his true love, a muse created to feel. Apart from her love, there is no sea for him, there are no boundless golden fields, there are no lies and vices, there is no soul — there is only you. The beloved who helped him carry the cross; the beloved, thanks to whom Christian again felt the joy of eating, drinking and sleeping.

He created ninety-nine characters, but in each there was a particle of the author. During grief, during grief, Christian bought modest buns for six centimes, stored endless glass bottles, felt тоскý, and as Toulouse said: "only Christian could know saudade." Every day he looked in the mirror, saw dimmed eyes that had become so faded that they no longer seemed blue; saw thin hair, emaciated the body, thirsty for touch, hugs, love.

You helped him, charmed him; Christian was ready to devote himself to you! he was in love with you, looked at you with loving eyes, pursing his lips, and felt a slight peeling in his stomach, soft, as if he was facing an important choice. He was sitting at a typewriter, his head was full of poems, rhymes, metaphors, but he only enjoyed you — a peaceful and calm face, sleepy and quiet — he understood that he would never be able to convey your beauté; you were his Aphrodite, his goddess.

He wanted to lie down with you, in bed, gentle from the caress of the fragrance and draw sharp lines between the points in his handwriting, getting moles and freckles from the heels to the top. Christian didn't deserve to be covered with a piece of wood, and you deserved peace; his legs were shaking before you, he forgot all the words: they broke up into sounds and letters. Previously, the air of the apartment smelled of absinthe, now it was filled with roses; he inhaled the smell of your hair and, as if with ammonia, his breathing stopped.

His spirit is excited today, an indescribable dream was filled with miracles, whims. Christian erected an altar to his beloved in his soul, and found happiness in the pattern of her tears. He called her alone, loved her blindly, while sleeping he gently touched the crystal skin and supple stroked, afraid to touch. She riveted his gaze, caressed by the radiance of summer days, made him shudder with unearthly beauty, tremble like a distant star.

Christian loved you like a nocturnal vault, loved you madly, like Montmartre.

Christian was reinventing love, but kept asking himself: «Do you come from Heaven or rise from the abyss, Beauty?»

in fact, this is not my best work, but no matter how i do it, it still does not work out beautifully. however, i hope u enjoyed it! the next work, i believe, will be on renton :)

#moulin rouge #moulin rouge movie #Ewan McGregor #ewan mcgregor x reader #yandere ewan mcgregor #ewan mcgregor x you #christian x reader #moulin rouge christian #moulin rouge x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #obsession #obsessive #yandere obi wan kenobi #yandere obi-wan kenobi #Obi-Wan Kenobi #drabble #angst

[nuadox]

Buzzing insights: Tracking bees with robotic flowers and hive sensors

- By Anthony King , Horizon -

Think of wildlife tracking and what probably comes to mind are documentaries following the majestic movements of elephants through the savannah, the graceful migrations of sea turtles in the deep blue and the prowling of big cats in dense jungles.

Yet, in the grand tapestry of nature, one creature that’s vital to the ecosystem but less in the spotlight can be found gently toiling away: the humble bee. Researchers are keeping a watchful eye on these buzzing wonders in a unique effort to understand their behaviour and ensure their survival.

Big buzz 

Bees pollinate 80% of all flowering plants, including more than 130 types of fruits and vegetables. Unsung heroes of the natural world, bees and other pollinators are responsible for up to €‎550 billion a year in global food production. 

‘We need to understand better how bees move and pollinate plants,’ said Dr Mathieu Lihoreau, a behavioural ecologist at the University of Toulouse. 

Cut to a farm outside Toulouse, the southern French city better known as the location of bigger winged objects: Airbus planes. 

But this is no ordinary farm. It’s an experimental site with, for example, no real flowers. Bumblebees and honeybees will be released into the fields – spread over 25 hectares – and tracked while flying to robotic flowers to taste a sugary reward. 

The experiment is part of a research project that received EU funding to improve understanding of how bees forage and interact. Lihoreau leads the project, which is called BEE-MOVE and runs for five years until the end of September 2026. 

He will trace dozens of bees simultaneously with a radar as they navigate around hundreds of robo-flowers set out in the fields. Knowing why bees buzz off in a certain direction can help improve crop pollination, conserve wild bee populations and save some rare plant species. 

Captivating creatures

While Lihoreau has always been fascinated by animal behaviour, as a student he pictured himself observing whales in the Pacific Ocean or primates in African jungles. But then as a young scientist he became captivated by much smaller creatures after joining a laboratory that studied ants. 

His attention now is on how bees navigate and make decisions as they seek nectar and pollen, orienting themselves using the sun, landscape features and even other bees. Because they collect food for themselves and harvest nectar and pollen for their colony, bees memorise the landscape. 

Research suggests bees can even have emotions and doubts, detect electric fields and count. 

‘I’m fascinated by them,’ Lihoreau said. 

In total, there are around 20 000 bee species and wild bees are critical for a healthy ecosystem. They’re vital assistants in the reproduction of plants by carrying pollen from one flower to another. 

Previously, researchers used large and expensive harmonic radars to track an antenna placed on the back of an individual bee. This allowed scientists to follow the bee as it weaved its way around a meadow, searching for flowers before returning home. 

But following just one bee gives merely a sliver of insight into what’s going on. Honeybees live in hives of thousands of worker bees and bumblebees reside in nests with dozens or hundreds. 

How bees act as a team or make efficient foraging decisions in the company of other pollinators are open questions.

Radar tracking

The BEE-MOVE radar will do its tracking without any of the bees having antennas. It uses the same technology as reversing sensors on cars, sending out energy waves to detect objects by bouncing off them. 

Lihoreau said that, to his knowledge, this is the first time such a radar has been used in ecology.

‘I want to show bees do not move randomly in the environment and to understand the rules that guide their sophisticated foraging,’ he said. 

The radar will track honeybees and bumblebees separately as they fly to the robo-flowers and then together. The planned robotic plants are small metal containers that recognise individual tagged bees as they alight on a platform and allow them in to sup sugar water.

Eventually, Lihoreau wants to investigate the effect on bee behaviour of adding contaminants like pesticides to the sugar water. 

Pesticide threats

Pesticides, including insecticides, used against pests like aphids are often neurotoxins.

‘Bees are in danger because they forage on plants that we treat with pesticides and then they feed on neurotoxins,’ said Lihoreau. 

The European Food Safety Authority said in 2018 that neonicotinoid insecticides pose a threat to wild bees and honeybees. Neonicotinoids are suspected of scrambling the bees’ navigation systems. 

Everything that bees learn when navigating a meadow, garden or cityscape is retained. This may ultimately leave them particularly vulnerable to neurotoxins. 

‘Because they have this tiny brain, probably every neuron is important,’ said Lihoreau. 

In agriculture, healthy bees are crucial for good yields in crops such as strawberries and almonds. 

‘Orchards hire beekeepers to bring in hives, but they need numerous healthy bees,’ said Dr Joao Encarnacao, a sensor expert at Irideon, a technology company in the Spanish city of Barcelona. 

Hive sensors 

If a hive is unhealthy, it can’t pollinate enough flowers and the fruit crop is reduced. But a farmer will become aware of a shortfall in pollinators only when it’s too late.

Encarnacao leads an EU-funded project – iPollinate – positioning sensors on hives to report real-time foraging of honeybees. The tracking technique relies on artificial intelligence and multiple coin-sized sensors placed on the hive. 

The information can be used by an orchard owner to spotlight the healthiest bee colonies or to learn the best locations for hives.

‘You get metrics that show you how productive the beehives are for pollination,’ said Encarnacao. ‘So far, nobody has enough information to know how to optimise things like the placement or the orientation of beehives, yet this might be the difference between having good pollination and bad.’

The project, which is due to end in December 2023 after three years, aims by then to have built a prototype of the sensor system. The plan is for the service to be available to commercial partners of the project in 2024.

The sensors have been tested in onion seeds in France and Israel, in berry fruit in countries including France, Spain and Portugal and in almonds and sunflowers in the US state of California. 

Californian almonds are a key target for iPollinate because about 2.5 million beehives are routinely set out across more than 500 000 hectares of almond groves – a big commercial opportunity for anybody who can improve pollination and, by extension, the harvest. 

Both iPollinate and BEE-MOVE highlight the crucial links between bees and the ecosystem as a whole, reinforcing the need to tackle biodiversity loss driven by human influences including pollution. 

‘Bees are on the frontline of an ecological crisis,’ said Lihoreau of BEE-MOVE. 

Research in this article was funded by the EU via the European Research Council (ERC). The views of the interviewees don’t necessarily reflect those of the European Commission.

This post Buzzing insights: tracking bees with robotic flowers and hive sensors was originally published on Horizon: the EU Research & Innovation magazine | European Commission.

--

Read Also

The first global map of bee species

#bees #animals #wildlife conservation #wildlife #insect #europe #eu #agriculture #plants #sensor #flowers #robotics

[nahkyl]

PSG vs Lens : the season's launch.

Ladies, Gentlemen, Gays and Theys.

Welcome to another read of The Football Thesis. This one comes a bit late because I had a very busy week with finals which I am delighted to anounce : I have graduated college, finally. Nahkyl MD is excited to bring you this review and I really hope you'll enjoy it !

Last saturday, PSG played against RC Lens and won 3-1 after 20 minutes that seemed a bit tough. Both teams are qualified for this year's UCL. What to make of it ?

Luis Enrique : finding balance

It's only the third game of the season, if we don't count the pre-season games. So I'm not going to be ecstatic but I must say, I am really excited by what I get to see. There's definitely a better use of Kylian and Ousmane's percussion than the last game against Toulouse. I think Enrique is on the right path to find the perfect balance between possession and transition. And that's the I.D of all big European clubs.

2. A promising midfield

If you watched last year's season, or even the years before that, you know our midfield has been a black hole. Vitinha was fading into the background, Ruiz was (still is) a ghost, and Verratti was going through the worst year he's ever been through as a football player and not doing shit to get away from it. WZE was the only one making efforts on the pitch, but he was only starting in Ligue 1 and Galtier was blind to his talent, forcing him to play his first UCL game on the RIGHT (I'm still mad about that).

That seems to change now. WZE is a gem that's growing by the game, Vitinha seems to be more free, still lacks at the finish but has been finding his marks a lot quicker. But the greatest hope comes in the name of Manuel Ugarte Ribeiro. Ugarte is definitely one of the tops of this year's mercato. He is the exact player profile we were looking for : an old school ball recoverer. He knows how to play in front and back to the goal. And more importantly : my guy is HUNGRY. My guy wants his team to devour. And that element is SO. important in games like these where the team is struggling to get into it.

I still think Verratti would be a huge contribution to our midfield, our little technical genius, but I also respect Luis' decision to not take players who don't show up off pitch. If you're an athlete, act like one.

3. Everyone wants a shot

What I noticed watching the game was that even if there were more occasions than goals, - something that could bite us in the ass in the UCL if we don't polish our finition - there's not a single player that didn't try to get into the surface. Not one. Like, I'm not gonna lie to you, I kept screaming at Hakimi because the dude is not a striker and should've made passes a lot more than he tried striking, and I'm pretty sure I saw Ousmane and Marco Asensio share the sentiment and yell at him. But then when the anger of missed occasions passed, I realized what that meant : our players wanted to have a shot at putting the ball in the net. All of them, even defenders. And felt comfortable enough, bold enough to do so. Whereas they wouldn't have DARED last year.

If you just started getting interested in PSG you might not realize how big of a deal this is. We've been waiting for three years to see such agressiveness on the pitch. Such might. Ever since Thiago Silva left, the already instable lockeroom due to the big (HUGE) star players that we had completely crumbled. And then it entirely collapsed with Messi's arrival. I'm not saying he's responsible, at all, I'm saying our lockers were already shaky and bringing in the sport's literal biggest legend (who apparently didn't even want to be there), it completely obliterated upcoming players. It anhiliated them.

Now, they look free. They look like they want to be here, they want to fight, they want to prove their worth. And I love that. I want that. I want to see that, I want to see players who want to fight for the jersey, for the badge. And when players feel like they have a chance to show themselves, to progress, that's when you create a collective. When everyone feels they have their place.

And during the second half, that's what we saw : we saw the birth of a group. Players were fighting for each other, helping each other, literally fighting each other : I literally almost cried when Kylian went all up in that defender's face for fouling Warren. That's what teamwork is about.

Which brings me to my next point : Marquinhos should not be captain. But I'll develop that in another post. One that will be specifically dedicated to that.

Flops:

Carlos Soler. Need I say more.

Overall, this game was important for them but also for us supporters because it is reassuring. Not necessarily about the play, because we still have a lot to prove in that aspect. But it showed us we might, for once, have a team that geniunely wants to play for Paris Saint Germain. To defend its colors. Warriors that want to fight with fucking honor and if you're a big European club supporter, that might seem like the bare minimum. But to us ? This is huge. Because it's the essence of the club, it's what PSG is about, that resilience. And for decades, that identity was walked over. It was trampled. And when you watch that happen, your heart bleeds. This may seem like I'm exagerating but it feels like a rebirth.

Kolo's siege to join might just be a sign that's the mentality the club is heading towards.

And as a football supporter, more than trophies, that's what matters most.

Thank you all for reading. See you after PSG vs OL !

#psg #paris saint germain #psg 2023 2024 #psg vs lens #the football thesis

[ninjadeathblade]

Moulin Rouge Discotrain AU (part one)

Summary: (Post-game canon) The Conductor and DJ Grooves agree to finally work on a movie together. They come up with 'Moulin Rouge', a musical drama filled with romance. Over time the two directors grow closer and discover that maybe they don't hate each other as much.

Next

Word count: 558 (this is kinda the introduction so it's pretty short)

Warnings: None

Author's notes: I literally started writing this a couple days ago and it's over 6k and not finished so I might as well start posting it. So here it is I guess! I know there are words in the vernacular to describe it. I don't know how to write Conductor's accent, sorry. I will try and post up parts regularly but sorry if I get distracted. Pinguini and Owlice are OCs and I literally only came up with them while making this. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading it! :)

The Conductor scribbled out another paragraph of drafted script, before crumpling the entire piece of paper and throwing it in the bin.

He let out a sigh as DJ Grooves burst in, not even bothering to knock.

"Darling! You can't stay cooped up in here forever! There are two of us working on this movie, and I won't let you take all the credit," Grooves exclaimed, shutting the door and walking over to look at Conductor's notes.

"If yer music and romance ruins my film then I'll nae work with you again," Conductor threatened, prompting Grooves to laugh.

"As if, darling! It's just the flare your ideas need, to push them that little bit further to-" Grooves paused, doing a small drumroll on the edge of the table "-stardom! But we may have to get more, how should I put it, creative with casting."

"Whaddya mean?"

"I'll put this delicately, darling," Grooves explained. "I just don't think the owls or penguins will cut it for some of the roles we've come up with."

Conductor let out a groan before quickly sipping his whiskey. He placed it back down away from the papers he'd been writing on and away from Grooves.

"I hate ta say it but I agree with yer. We could get that wee lass to come back again," Conductor said, pointing to the movie poster on the wall from his previous movie 'Murder On The Owl Express'.

Grooves nodded thoughtfully, taking a seat on the other side of his desk.

"Yeah, that could work. I know a penguin who might work as that courtesan you wrote-"

"Satine."

"-Yes, Satine, that was it. As I was saying, darling, I know the perfect penguin for the role. And I bumped into one of your owls a while back who might work well as that guy-"

"Christian?"

"-Yes, Christian! That's him! Well, I don't know if you remember one of your employees, Owlice? I think she'd do perfectly, darling, perfectly!" Grooves continued, propping his head in his flippers as he lent on the table.

Conductor pushed his notes to the side of the desk and picked out a new piece of paper, beginning to write down possible roles.

"And this penguin? What's 'er name?" Conductor asked, loosening his tie and undoing the top button of his shirt.

If he was going to be spending the night working on the film then he didn't want to be in such stuffy clothes.

"His name is Pinguini," Grooves replied. "He's an amazingly talented singer. And that role of, what's his name, ah, Toulouse, that would be perfect for your young detective, or, in my preference, the upcoming diva!" He flourished his flippers as he referenced their previous rivalling movies.

"Alright. We've still gotta lot of roles ta fill though. And I donnae think the owls and penguins will be cut out for all of 'em," Conductor grumbled. "We could see if the lass has any friends that might get involved."

"Yeah, yeah, that could work," Grooves mumbled, nodding. "I could try and talk to my contacts and see if they know anyone."

Conductor nodded absentmindedly, mind flitting between scene ideas and possible cast members.

"Darling, where is this 'Moulin Rouge' in the movie going to be filmed?"

Conductor grinned, looking up at Grooves.

"Where else? It's gonna be on The Owl Express!"

#ahit #a hat in time #ahit au #a hat in time au #ahit moulin rouge au #discotrain #a hat in time moulin rouge au #discotrain au #discotrain moulin rouge au #the conductor #ahit conductor #dj grooves #ahit dj grooves

[ardenrosegarden]

The young Philip had no use for the patience and guile that had marked his father’s handling of the Angevin problem. A young man in a hurry, he faced in Henry an exhausted and increasingly disillusioned old man. Philip’s early successes over the duke of Burgundy and the count of Flanders gave him the confidence to launch an open attack against Henry in 1186. After the death of Geoffrey, count of Brittany, he challenged Henry’s control of Brittany and threatened to invade Normandy if Richard did not retreat from Toulouse. Therefore the last two years of Henry’s reign offered a sharp contrast with almost all that had gone before. The cold war gave way to open military conflict; a conflict that, for the first time in his life, Henry was to lose, as he also lost the loyalty of both his surviving sons, Richard and John. Like Simon de Montfort at the battle of Evesham, Henry will have looked on his lord Philip and his son Richard as they swept to victory, and reflected that they had learned their winning tactics from him. In many ways, Philip Augustus was to prove to be Henry’s, rather than his father’s, true successor on the European stage when, using his new-found financial and military power, he recreated the bonds of lordship to reflect his own desires.

-Jean Dunbabin, Henry II and Louis VII

#Henry II #philippe auguste #The Lion In Winter #twelfth century #my edit

[berlioz-beaumont]

@happieststarters​

Marie had come, Toulouse had come –well, what was his excuse? He had the feeling that everyone else he knew, from his mother and his... Well, his mother’s friend, to Alice and... And whoever else he knew in town, they must all be there at the Hootenanny event. Berlioz dashed through the main street, the cape fluttering behind him. After much deliberation he had finally decided he wouldn’t go and make a fool of himself –and then he decided he would go, even if he made a fool of himself –and then he realized that most of the town would be there –and then, he remembered that this was a masquerade party, so it wouldn’t really matter, right?

He almost tripped when he reached the main floor, all tired from running, but managed to steady himself. The party was in full swing already. Berlioz quickly fixed the mask he had found lying around with some old costumes in the attic, and retied the knot of his childhood Dracula cape. The original, hastly-conceived idea had been to go as the iconic count ( the formal outfit was always at the ready, obviously), but the plastic vampire teeth had been lying for who knows how long in the bottom of the trunk, all squished and unhygienic. Pre-bite Dracula, then?

“Hey, where can I get one of those canapés?” he asked, suddenly very hungry indeed.

#. berlioz beaumont #happiestevent #happiestevent11

[pedanther]

The Calendar of Monte Cristo: Chapter 44

c.1780: Birth of Israel Bertuccio. [R]

c.1798: The Bertuccio brothers are orphaned. [R]

c.1798: Birth of the baroness. [R]

1814: Marriage of Israel Bertuccio and Assunta. [E]

18 June 1815: Israel Bertuccio wounded at Waterloo. [H]

1815: De Villefort appointed crown prosecutor in Nîmes. [R]

1815: Imperial Army disbanded. Israel Bertuccio is murdered on his way home during an anti-Bonapartist reprisal in Nîmes. De Villefort refuses to take action, and Giovanni Bertuccio declares vendetta against him. [E]

1815: De Villefort leaves Nîmes to avoid Bertuccio, is appointed crown prosecutor in Versailles. [R]

Death of the baroness’s husband.

The baroness takes up residence in the house in Auteuil.

Bertuccio learns of de Villefort’s visits to the house in Auteuil.

Late September, 1816 or 1817: The baroness gives birth to a son, who is thought dead. De Villefort buries the child in the garden. Bertuccio stabs de Villefort and takes the child, thinking the box contains treasure; on finding the child is alive, he leaves him in an orphanage. [E]

c.April, 1817 or 1818: Assunta claims the child from the orphanage and names him Benedetto. [R]

c.1821: Caderousse becomes keeper of the inn on the Bellegarde road and an associate of Bertuccio’s smuggling network. [R]

c.1823: Benedetto buys a monkey. [R]

3 June 1829: Following a police raid, Bertuccio goes to take shelter at the inn in the Bellegarde road. He enters the smugglers’ bolt-hole and witnesses Caderousse selling Abbé Busoni’s diamond. [E]

21 May 1838: The Count of Monte Cristo persuades Bertuccio to tell him the story of Bertuccio’s vendetta against de Villefort. [E]

In Chapter 13, it said that de Villefort left Marseille to become crown prosecutor in Toulouse, and in Chapter 14 he was reported to still be in Toulouse a year later, but here he is already crown prosecutor in Nîmes only a few months after he left Marseille.

The timeline gets fuzzy after de Villefort moves to Versailles: Bertuccio says that three months elapsed before he learned of de Villefort’s visits to the house in Auteuil, but not how much more time elapsed before he made his move on de Villefort. All things considered, it seems likely that de Villefort met the young baroness in Versailles, and therefore that he’d been living there at least nine months when she gave birth to his son. (Perhaps even longer, given a detail which Bertuccio doesn’t find relevant enough to mention; we still don’t know when exactly the first Mrs. de Villefort died.) The fatal evening is specified as being in late September; there simply isn’t time for all the preceding events to have occurred before September 1815, so it’s September 1816 at the earliest and perhaps even September 1817.

#the calendar of monte cristo #chapter 44 #the count of monte cristo #alexandre dumas #not a reblog