[o4o] gossip girl : auf wiedersehen
Title: Auf Wiedersehen
Author: Honeychuckles / IFV
Genre: Angst, Romance Historical, AU
Pairing: CB
Rating: M for Mature
Summary: Germany. 1930s. We thought they wouldn't touch us. We were too far north, we were wealthy, we were respectable members of high society! Who would have guessed those were all the reasons why they would.
Kiel, Germany. 1933.
I will always think of it as the beginning of the end; the nightmare that would become the next ten years of my life. It seems ironic, in retrospect, that it all began on what was supposed to be happiest night of my mother's life. Her fifth-anniversary to my step-father, Cyrus Rose. I was fourteen when they initially wed, on a boat floating down the Rhine. I fondly remember the white ribbons in my hair, the patent leather mary-janes on my feet with their one-inch heel, and my future stepbrother spilling wine all over the periwinkle satin of the bridesmaid dress my mother had designed specifically for the occasion. I remember it because it was one of the few happy memories I had to hold onto; the memory that would get me through what was yet to come. I was nineteen on their fifth anniversary. Still too young and still too ignorant to even realize that life wouldn't always be ribbons and sails.
We thought they wouldn't touch us. We were too far north, we were wealthy, we were respectable members of high society! Who would have guessed those were all the reasons why they would.
"To Eleanor and Cyrus Rose! To five happy years of marriage, and may they have many more!"
The champagne was popped, sparkling glasses harmoniously clinking together, the Waldorf-Rose foyer glowing with mirth as friends, family, and business associates mingled about. They congratulated the unlikely pair on both the success of their marriage and their blooming business. Eleanor Waldorf's boutique was the most prosperous dress shops in all of Kiel, with clients coming all the way from Berlin to fit themselves into one of her decadent designs. The publicity was mostly in part due to Cyrus, their prime investor who eventually developed more than just a purely financial interest in the flourishing design house.
"Blair, darling, would you find your brother?" Eleanor insisted, gingerly placing a hand on her daughter's shoulder, "There's a reporter from the local paper, they want to do a story on the boutique. It would be best to have the whole family present."
"Anything for you, mother." This was typical of Eleanor, always thinking of the public image, and thus Blair Waldorf naturally obliged. The brunette turned with a champagne flute in hand towards the illustrious marble staircase at the center of the room before being accosted by her exuberant and blonde best friend.
"I'd love to help," Serena Van Der Woodsen giggled, splashing champagne against the black and white tiled floor, "find that devilishly handsome stepbrother of yours." The blonde linked arms with the more composed brunette, who merely rolled her eyes in return-though not without allowing the smallest hint of a smile to sneak through.
"That is absolutely disgusting, Serena. Honestly, you're going to make me sick with all of this nonsense. I'm fairly convinced that Aaron looks more like a musk rat than a man."
"Well, I think the mustache is rather attractive. It's distinguished." The blonde countered, cutting in front of Blair to knock on the door of Aaron's bedroom. There was a pause, and no answer.
"Aaron." Blair looked at the door impatiently before taking her turn to knock as well, "Aaron, my mother requests your presence downstairs. You know how she gets when she's kept waiting." It wasn't too different from how Blair got - frustrated. "I'm coming in," Blair exclaimed twisting the door knob forcefully and pushing herself inside the bedroom with her friend in tow. They didn't find Aaron, though the clues to his whereabouts were written all over the walls; the torn-up newspaper front page, "Hitler Elected Chancellor", the scattered copies of the underground pamphlet Der Widerstand, his knotted bed-sheets cascading over an open bedroom window. "Oh no." Blair whispered, rushing over to the window and looking out at the view of Kiel below. "No, no, no." A city in flames; she could hear it now more so than see it. The sounds of shattering glass, harmonizing with a siren's wail and the cries of fearful children. "Aaron, what have you done?" Blair quickly pushed herself away from the window, grabbing Serena by the hand and dragging her out, leaving a shattered champagne flute in the process. They descended the stairs in rapid speed, nearly colliding into several of of their distinguished guests before Blair finally found the little man she was looking for. "Cyrus! It's Aaron!"
"I know, darling, I know." Cyrus had tears in his eyes as he placed both of his hands on her shoulder, "We've just received word he's been arrested. The police will be here within the hour, we all must leave." Blair felt a rush as he grabbed her by the hand and lead her into the kitchen where her mother and Lily Van Der Woodsen were rapidly talking, both pulling on their winter coats.
"Mother." Blair breathed, "What's going on? Where are we going?"
"You," Eleanor gasped, "Are going with Lily and Serena."
"What about you? Are you coming with us?" Blair asked frantically as Cyrus tugged her arms into a wool coat, "What's going on?"
"No, Blair," Eleanor rushed forward taking her daughter's face into her hands, "I know I haven't been the best mother, but all that matters to me right now is your safety. You still have a chance of living a normal life, and that is all I could ever wish to give you. As far as the Third Reich knows, you have no connection to either Aaron or Cyrus Rose." Her mother's thumb wiped a quivering tear away from her face, "It will be safer for you not to know where we're going." Eleanor turned sharply, "Dorota! Do you have Blair's belongings?"
"Yes," Their maid quickly appeared from the kitchen with luggage in tow.
"You won't be alone. Dorota will take care of you." Eleanor reassured her, "And you will be well protected with Lily."
"We're going to my new home in Berlin." Lily explained, holding Serena close and stroking her daughter's shoulder affectionately, "Nobody knows us there, they'll be none the wiser that I have two daughters instead of just one."
"A daughter with dark hair?" Blair inquired hysterically, looking back and forth from her mother to Lily in alarm.
"My sister was born with dark hair, herself." Lily reassured her calmly, "Should anyone contest your authenticity, I have the photographs to prove you innocent. However, they won't." Lillian van der Woodsen was reknown in almost all of Germany's social circles. A reputable and rich divorcee whom none dared to disown from the parlors and salons which she so charitably graced. Though she travelled all over the country to attend such society parties, Lily had insisted on raising her family in the quieter, quainter town of Kiel.
"What about Nathaniel?" Blair ignored Lily's sentiments, insisting instead on subject herself further into her frenzy. "I have to tell Nathaniel where I'm going, I have to let him know-"
"No." Eleanor barked suddenly, shaking the girl's frail shoulders. "You mustn't write him and you mustn't wire him." Eleanor warned her, "Blair, if you initiate any contact with Nathaniel, you will only put the boy in more danger. Do you understand? Lily will arrange for him to visit her estate in Berlin when the time is right. When you are safe."
"Mother..." Blair croaked through tears, looking up at the elder woman helplessly as if begging her not to leave. Not to leave her.
"Be strong for me, Blair." Eleanor pressed her lips against the trembling girl's forehead before pulling away to look her straight in the eye. "We will see each other again."
"Mother, please!"
"Use the back entrance." Eleanor ignored Blair's frantic pleas, directing both Lily and Dorota instead. "Quickly," Eleanor insisted, fighting off her daughter's small hands which tried so desperately to hold onto her. "Blair, you must let go!" Eleanor wailed, prying Blair's fingers from the sleeve of her dress, "You must go."
Blair felt a force against her body, the arm of her strong and protective Dorota pulling her away against her will, through the kitchen and out the back door, away from her mother, her family, and the only life she knew. Her tears had blinded her vision, but as she was pulled away she had heard her mother, holding back tears, turn to Cyrus and say,
"We always feared; we always knew that this day would come."
Those words haunted her for the following years. They replayed in her mind like a recorded radio show, and all the while they did Blair would keep wondering to herself... how did they know? How could they have ever anticipated it? Blair did not know. Blair did not know anything. It was as if the first eighteen years of her life had been nothing more than a happy dream, from which she was waken without any warning. It was as if all happiness were just that; nothing more than a vague and distant thought buried in one's sub-conscience whilst suffering, pain, and heart-ache was the biting reality to which she had been forced into.
How could she ever have known?
Auf Wiedersehen; until we meet again...
A/N: You've been warned, this is going to be a dark piece of work. It is set during a controversial time in our world's history. That being said, I do plan to write about those events with integrity. This work of fiction is not an attempt to romanticize the awful people and the awful things that those people did during this sensitive time. It's merely a period of time of interest to me to explore in writing.
That being said, some other things to know... unlike my other fic, which is more of a re-imagining of the events that take place in the television series, this fic is moving to the beats of its own drum. A few plot points and relationships will be preserved, mostly due to their contribution to the plot as a whole.
If the dark stuff's not your thing than I would like to happily direct you to Storybook Endings, a fairy-tale fic (though not without its angst).
Author: Honeychuckles / IFV
Genre: Angst, Romance Historical, AU
Pairing: CB
Rating: M for Mature
Summary: Germany. 1930s. We thought they wouldn't touch us. We were too far north, we were wealthy, we were respectable members of high society! Who would have guessed those were all the reasons why they would.
Kiel, Germany. 1933.
I will always think of it as the beginning of the end; the nightmare that would become the next ten years of my life. It seems ironic, in retrospect, that it all began on what was supposed to be happiest night of my mother's life. Her fifth-anniversary to my step-father, Cyrus Rose. I was fourteen when they initially wed, on a boat floating down the Rhine. I fondly remember the white ribbons in my hair, the patent leather mary-janes on my feet with their one-inch heel, and my future stepbrother spilling wine all over the periwinkle satin of the bridesmaid dress my mother had designed specifically for the occasion. I remember it because it was one of the few happy memories I had to hold onto; the memory that would get me through what was yet to come. I was nineteen on their fifth anniversary. Still too young and still too ignorant to even realize that life wouldn't always be ribbons and sails.
We thought they wouldn't touch us. We were too far north, we were wealthy, we were respectable members of high society! Who would have guessed those were all the reasons why they would.
"To Eleanor and Cyrus Rose! To five happy years of marriage, and may they have many more!"
The champagne was popped, sparkling glasses harmoniously clinking together, the Waldorf-Rose foyer glowing with mirth as friends, family, and business associates mingled about. They congratulated the unlikely pair on both the success of their marriage and their blooming business. Eleanor Waldorf's boutique was the most prosperous dress shops in all of Kiel, with clients coming all the way from Berlin to fit themselves into one of her decadent designs. The publicity was mostly in part due to Cyrus, their prime investor who eventually developed more than just a purely financial interest in the flourishing design house.
"Blair, darling, would you find your brother?" Eleanor insisted, gingerly placing a hand on her daughter's shoulder, "There's a reporter from the local paper, they want to do a story on the boutique. It would be best to have the whole family present."
"Anything for you, mother." This was typical of Eleanor, always thinking of the public image, and thus Blair Waldorf naturally obliged. The brunette turned with a champagne flute in hand towards the illustrious marble staircase at the center of the room before being accosted by her exuberant and blonde best friend.
"I'd love to help," Serena Van Der Woodsen giggled, splashing champagne against the black and white tiled floor, "find that devilishly handsome stepbrother of yours." The blonde linked arms with the more composed brunette, who merely rolled her eyes in return-though not without allowing the smallest hint of a smile to sneak through.
"That is absolutely disgusting, Serena. Honestly, you're going to make me sick with all of this nonsense. I'm fairly convinced that Aaron looks more like a musk rat than a man."
"Well, I think the mustache is rather attractive. It's distinguished." The blonde countered, cutting in front of Blair to knock on the door of Aaron's bedroom. There was a pause, and no answer.
"Aaron." Blair looked at the door impatiently before taking her turn to knock as well, "Aaron, my mother requests your presence downstairs. You know how she gets when she's kept waiting." It wasn't too different from how Blair got - frustrated. "I'm coming in," Blair exclaimed twisting the door knob forcefully and pushing herself inside the bedroom with her friend in tow. They didn't find Aaron, though the clues to his whereabouts were written all over the walls; the torn-up newspaper front page, "Hitler Elected Chancellor", the scattered copies of the underground pamphlet Der Widerstand, his knotted bed-sheets cascading over an open bedroom window. "Oh no." Blair whispered, rushing over to the window and looking out at the view of Kiel below. "No, no, no." A city in flames; she could hear it now more so than see it. The sounds of shattering glass, harmonizing with a siren's wail and the cries of fearful children. "Aaron, what have you done?" Blair quickly pushed herself away from the window, grabbing Serena by the hand and dragging her out, leaving a shattered champagne flute in the process. They descended the stairs in rapid speed, nearly colliding into several of of their distinguished guests before Blair finally found the little man she was looking for. "Cyrus! It's Aaron!"
"I know, darling, I know." Cyrus had tears in his eyes as he placed both of his hands on her shoulder, "We've just received word he's been arrested. The police will be here within the hour, we all must leave." Blair felt a rush as he grabbed her by the hand and lead her into the kitchen where her mother and Lily Van Der Woodsen were rapidly talking, both pulling on their winter coats.
"Mother." Blair breathed, "What's going on? Where are we going?"
"You," Eleanor gasped, "Are going with Lily and Serena."
"What about you? Are you coming with us?" Blair asked frantically as Cyrus tugged her arms into a wool coat, "What's going on?"
"No, Blair," Eleanor rushed forward taking her daughter's face into her hands, "I know I haven't been the best mother, but all that matters to me right now is your safety. You still have a chance of living a normal life, and that is all I could ever wish to give you. As far as the Third Reich knows, you have no connection to either Aaron or Cyrus Rose." Her mother's thumb wiped a quivering tear away from her face, "It will be safer for you not to know where we're going." Eleanor turned sharply, "Dorota! Do you have Blair's belongings?"
"Yes," Their maid quickly appeared from the kitchen with luggage in tow.
"You won't be alone. Dorota will take care of you." Eleanor reassured her, "And you will be well protected with Lily."
"We're going to my new home in Berlin." Lily explained, holding Serena close and stroking her daughter's shoulder affectionately, "Nobody knows us there, they'll be none the wiser that I have two daughters instead of just one."
"A daughter with dark hair?" Blair inquired hysterically, looking back and forth from her mother to Lily in alarm.
"My sister was born with dark hair, herself." Lily reassured her calmly, "Should anyone contest your authenticity, I have the photographs to prove you innocent. However, they won't." Lillian van der Woodsen was reknown in almost all of Germany's social circles. A reputable and rich divorcee whom none dared to disown from the parlors and salons which she so charitably graced. Though she travelled all over the country to attend such society parties, Lily had insisted on raising her family in the quieter, quainter town of Kiel.
"What about Nathaniel?" Blair ignored Lily's sentiments, insisting instead on subject herself further into her frenzy. "I have to tell Nathaniel where I'm going, I have to let him know-"
"No." Eleanor barked suddenly, shaking the girl's frail shoulders. "You mustn't write him and you mustn't wire him." Eleanor warned her, "Blair, if you initiate any contact with Nathaniel, you will only put the boy in more danger. Do you understand? Lily will arrange for him to visit her estate in Berlin when the time is right. When you are safe."
"Mother..." Blair croaked through tears, looking up at the elder woman helplessly as if begging her not to leave. Not to leave her.
"Be strong for me, Blair." Eleanor pressed her lips against the trembling girl's forehead before pulling away to look her straight in the eye. "We will see each other again."
"Mother, please!"
"Use the back entrance." Eleanor ignored Blair's frantic pleas, directing both Lily and Dorota instead. "Quickly," Eleanor insisted, fighting off her daughter's small hands which tried so desperately to hold onto her. "Blair, you must let go!" Eleanor wailed, prying Blair's fingers from the sleeve of her dress, "You must go."
Blair felt a force against her body, the arm of her strong and protective Dorota pulling her away against her will, through the kitchen and out the back door, away from her mother, her family, and the only life she knew. Her tears had blinded her vision, but as she was pulled away she had heard her mother, holding back tears, turn to Cyrus and say,
"We always feared; we always knew that this day would come."
Those words haunted her for the following years. They replayed in her mind like a recorded radio show, and all the while they did Blair would keep wondering to herself... how did they know? How could they have ever anticipated it? Blair did not know. Blair did not know anything. It was as if the first eighteen years of her life had been nothing more than a happy dream, from which she was waken without any warning. It was as if all happiness were just that; nothing more than a vague and distant thought buried in one's sub-conscience whilst suffering, pain, and heart-ache was the biting reality to which she had been forced into.
How could she ever have known?
Auf Wiedersehen; until we meet again...
A/N: You've been warned, this is going to be a dark piece of work. It is set during a controversial time in our world's history. That being said, I do plan to write about those events with integrity. This work of fiction is not an attempt to romanticize the awful people and the awful things that those people did during this sensitive time. It's merely a period of time of interest to me to explore in writing.
That being said, some other things to know... unlike my other fic, which is more of a re-imagining of the events that take place in the television series, this fic is moving to the beats of its own drum. A few plot points and relationships will be preserved, mostly due to their contribution to the plot as a whole.
If the dark stuff's not your thing than I would like to happily direct you to Storybook Endings, a fairy-tale fic (though not without its angst).