| Fan Fiction |
| By Lidia: |
| Madeleine's Fate |
| Let me know if this is a good idea to you. There is actually a reason for everything that happens. I just so happened to be reading Madeleine's part in Interview with the Vampire last night and she really had no part. Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, Anne Rice does. Rating: R just cause; I can hardly ever rate anything R! Who was Madeleine before Interview with the Vampire, she had to have been something more than just Louis' fledgling. What was she thinking with everything around her, everything that changed? Eh, no great plot but it keeps me busy. Let me know if this sounds like a good idea to you, if not, I'll stop. Title: Madeleine's Fate Young I was, young enough to not know of love, to dream of the perfect life, the perfect husband. To think that children came from the garden's and not the passions of my parents. I was the last of seven children, yet we were wealthy. My father was a hard earning man, and I never saw much of him. The last thing he would ever do was spend time with the girls unless he was dallying with them. I did not know at the time that my father quite often indulged himself in the other women around. I only had respect for him, thinking him utterly and totally devoted to my mother. So innocent was I. As the youngest daughter, I had not much to do. Always bored and contrite, I often sat in front of my mother's vanity while she taught my older sister's weave and the arts of cooking. I would apply her make-up thickly, using so much rouge it looked as if I had come down with a fever. I remember quite well, one afternoon I had been in my mother's rooms for well over two hours. Playing in her jewelry and other applications that I forgot all about my expulsion from these rooms. I had been forbade to come in here after I had broken my mother's china dogs imported from some fancy country. Oh how I hated Paris. I had been spinning in front of the full length mirrors, my nine year old body small enough to twirl full circles and still view from all sides. I did many twists and turns, dizzying myself quite fully, never noticing the entrance of my mother's maid. She told my mother of my presence within her quarters and she came inside, watching my little dances with a quiet smile upon her lips. I knew she did love me, though she never did show it much. I was her daughter, how could she have not felt anything for me? My punishment for my misbehavior was harsh, in the eyes of a girl child. She took away Michele, my ratty doll that I had had since as long as I could remember. An obsession with dolls had always had a hold of me, but she was my first, and I will always remember her. ~~~~~~ I cried into my pillow for days, begging with no results to get Michele back. She was as important to me as one of my own body parts, I think given the choice, I might have sacrificed myself to have gotten her back. But I digress, for I was but a little child. I watched my mother with cold eyes as she sat in her high backed chair, knitting some little treasure. Her red hair rippled down along her shoulders, gleaming in the light of the fire. I hadn't a clue where she had put my doll, but I wanted her back. I had inherited all of my mother's looks as well as her charm. Her violet eyes were just as mine were, small and girlish, so full of innocent wonder. I hadn't known then, but her body was worn, old. Having birthed seven alive children, and countless others, she had by now grown past her age. She didn't care that my father lay with the maids, the slaves, or other respected women. I regret all those times I scorned my mother, she had enough to deal with without I or my siblings getting in her way. Later that night, my mother lay beside me in my child's bed and stroked my hair as I sobbed. I had been hoping to gain sympathy, earn my doll back in tears, but it hadn't worked. My mother was a strong woman. "Learn your lessons now before you are doomed to repeat them. Will you go back in rooms again?" she asked me, her soothing voice calmly asked into my ear. "No." I stuttered, the tears coursing down my cheeks, my voice thick with sorrow. "And what if I were to give your doll back, do you really think you would learn your lesson the same if I were to keep her?" I remained quiet, sniffling loudly. "You're far too old to be playing with dolls anyway Madeleine. You must learn to act more grown up, become a lady. Not much farther away and you will have a husband of your own. Children, a household, just you wait." She had gone then, leaving me as she went to her private chambers, away from me, away her children, away from my father. That was one of the last and only conversations I had with my mother. Any other time, it would be sharp words, brief exchanges, a loving touch�a loving look. I was neglected by my father, need I say more. A ladies man, and a charming business professional, there was no room in his life for children. He supported us, kept us happy, but he didn't have the time to do anything for us. ~~~~~~ Over the years I grew, and eventually I was fifteen. I was proud of my wealthy family, and quite vain. I was presumptuous and always had a smart reply to anything anyone could dish out. I by now knew the ways of life, the facts as they were, and I was ready to take on anything anyone had to offer, or so I thought. I attended balls, social functions, and casually flirted my way among the young men, and I cannot quite say that I was the virginal temptress among them. For to be a virginal temptress, one would have to just tempt, while staying pure. While I�I on the other hand first tempted, and then pleased. I never thought of the consequences of my actions, such as pregnancy, but it could never happen to me. It only happens to those I don't know, sluttish girls, not myself. I used my sensual grace to win over whomever I wanted. Men seemed to adore my red hair, my violet eyes, I could have anyone I wanted. And I did, nearly every night. I learned to please men with my mouth, and virtually any way with my body. It wasn't all for them, I enjoyed their hot hands on my body. While most women seemed to find these actions disdainful, I reveled in the feel of making love. To have them take me, sometimes over and over again, pressing their faces against my breasts. Their hot bodies enflamed me, and I craved the feelings brought each time I coupled with someone new. I had thought my actions would have no consequence, but I was still young, and my mother, while now looking much older, could still punish me. I had brought a young man back with me tonight to my rooms. He pleasured me for nearly two hours, and we lay together. I had thought us in love, with his blonde hair and brown eyes he had captured my heart. He had tamed me, making me think I could have no one better. He had been dressing, and I had kissed him as he made his way to climb from my window to the lawns below. As I was bidding him farewell, my mother made entrance without so much as a knock. In my state of undress and the farewell of a man, my mother knew enough for there to be serious�serious consequences. ~~~~~~ Eric had rushed from my window, fleeing from my lawn, past my father's property. My mother stood, calmly watching me as I turned to her, covering my chest with my crossed arms. I was flushed, embarrassed that my mother had made entrance while I was nude. I pulled a blanket from my ruffled bed, covering my body and wiping my trembling mouth, waiting for the punishment that would inevitably come. "I am ashamed�ashamed that this is my daughter." she said, her voice so unshakingly calm that my trembling increased. This was much worse�horribly worse than her yelling. "How could you do this? To our family name, ruin yourself, lower yourself to nothing but a common whore." she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But mother, I love him, he loves--" "No one, but himself, he feeds his lust. Do you think he would care for you, love you, take you as his wife if you became pregnant. Whisper adoration's in your ears, full of childish fancies if you were with child? Do you still not think of the consequences of your actions? Still the nine year old child that would not stop entering my chambers to use my make-up after you knew that you would be punished. Except the after results of what you are dealing with now, could be worse�much worse than losing your doll." she said. She had come closer as she said this, so close I could very nearly feel her breath on my hair, my head bowed as I sought now to not look into her eyes. "But he would." I whispered, sure that he would. Every time he said he loved me, I knew he was telling the truth. I felt the harsh sting on her hand on my cheek. "Think of what you are saying child! You know nothing of the world, nothing! Do not ruin your chances before you can experience life, truly experience it!" I stood with my head bowed even as she left the room, raising my hand to feel the burning after effects of the slap on my cheek, clear tears welling up. End Part 1 ~~~~~~ Part 2 ~~~~~~ As I stood, before my mother, ashamed, fearing the worst, I vowed to myself that I would no longer indulge myself in wicked ways before marriage. That Sunday, I attended early morning mass with my family, my old sisters and brothers walking in front of me as I sought a seat in the cathedral. I kept the brim of my hat lowered, so that my face, streaked with tears, would not be seen. I had not seen Eric for days, and it hurt, my heart throbbed with need for him. I had never felt this before, and I longed to be with a man. I had grown so dependant on those feelings that I felt incomplete without those sensations. I sat through mass, alone, breathing deeply, barely hearing the words of the priest as he hailed the lord. I thought of Eric, and our time together. How could I tell him of my vows, would he understand? I looked up, wiping my face with my gloved hands, trying to get the smudged treks of tears from my cheeks�when I caught the eye of a man. He was young, sitting alone, merely twenty one or twenty two, watching me with a seeming fascination. His chocolate brown eyes were nearly as dark as his black hair, that was short and curling in toward his cheek. His skin was fair, but his cheeks ruddy, as if he were already drunk on brandy this early in the morning. I remember watching him for several minutes, feeling his eyes on me�over me. ~~~~~~ I had broken my vows, how could I have broken my vows? I straightened the abundance of green taffeta that flowed from my waist. So handsome, I had loved his kiss. Just as I had loved Eric's. But this man had meant nothing to me, I had not even learned of his name. I pulled my hair out of my face, pushing it into small bun before placing my hat atop my tousled hair. I felt wicked, as if I had betrayed my mother�and I had. Was I still the child who had lost her doll? Could I never learn? I did not shed tears as I would have earlier this day, I accepted that I had made a mistake, and decided that now, I could not take it back. How would weeping solve any of the problems? It would just cause more in the end. ~~~~~~ For weeks, I kept myself busy, joining in on the lessons that my mother still gave to my slightly older sister, Pascale. I listened with curiosity, my heart burning with pride at the little secret smiles my mother gave me, proud that I had for once, listened to her and taken knowledge from her words. So busy was I, that I barely noticed when a month passed without my menstruation. I kept to myself, learning all the practices to be a good wife that I neglected for so long in my childish ways. I did not realize that all my childish ways, were indeed going to come to an end�soon. ~~~~~~ End Part 2 ~~~~~~ Part 3 ~~~~~~ ~*~*~*~*~* Of course I wasn�t entirely ignorant. I knew exactly how a child was conceived, and I was very aware of the consequences of my promiscuous behavior, but I had thought myself to be careful. Quite unable to realize that it didn�t just happen to prostitutes, or street trash. In my still developing mind, I found it impossible that I should befall the same fate as these women. One month passed�then two, and yet I still hadn�t a clue of my pregnancy. My menstruation hadn�t been frequent since it had started not long ago, and I was not worried, and I didn�t pay attention to the infrequency as of late. I found it a relief to not have to deal with. In fact, I did not seem to realize I was pregnant until I felt the first kick. I hadn�t known what it was at first, and though I had noticed the weight gain, I thought it was the fact that I was eating more. And I was, sometimes ravenous at dinners and meals. I was going to slow down and take it easy, diet a bit, to get my figure back. I had placed my fingers over the little pushes against my abdomen and nearly collapsed. I had been in the living areas at the time, watching absent mindedly as my mother mended something small on a chair across from me. I had been stroking the soft red ringlets around my face as I tried to focus on my mother�s knotty hands. As I said, I was sitting calmly on the settee, straight backed and posed as a young girl should be. My mother paid me no mind, practicing on her movements as she continued with her work. I had placed my hand over the small kicks and let loose a tiny yelp of terror, collapsing back against the red velvet material. ~*~*~*~*~* Apparently my mother had been startled and summoned one of the slaves to fetch a doctor, quickly. I had been moved to my rooms, my older sister mopping my brow as the heat forced my sweat glands to excrete more fluids to cool me down. I watched through the gauze of my bed curtains as the serious gentleman doctor whispered to my mother. He was tall, but his back was hunched slightly as he bent to talk to the tiny figure of the woman beside him. He snapped his bag shut and took up his hat, coat, and gloves. He bowed and bid us adieu, leaving swiftly through the high wooden door. I believe I would have felt better had he stayed, perhaps it would have made her soften the blow. For I have never heard the harshness�ever�in my mother�s voice as I did then. She never spoke this loud in front of a gentleman, hardly ever before even her to children. Her voice nearly shook�shook, hell, it growled at me. Her violet, nearly dark purple eyes glared into mine, piercing my soul, the quaint shape of her body violently angry. Her entire countenance radiated anger, and I began to panic, my breath quickening as my mother sent my sister away and snapped the door shut behind her. She turned to me once again, and I shrunk back against my pillows in pure terror. ~*~*~*~*~* Any comments?--Lidia Vans Fan Fiction Home |