09 November 2010 @ 02:46 pm
King For A Day, part 7/?  
Title: King For A Day, part 7/?
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Shosanna/Fredrick, Edwige Molyneux and Genevieve Molyneux.
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 9,090
Summary: It is the next day. Together, Shosanna and Fredrick must move forward with their relationship and their lives as they leave Paris for Munich.
Warnings: More of Shosanna and Fredrick's personal tragedies were tackled in this part, and as I move forward with writing KFAD, such subject matter has taken more and more delicate measures. I think those kids are going to make it, though. The fake name used in Shosanna's papers, Rachel Stein, is a shameless reference to Zwartboek.

The story so far: | information/cast post | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 |

Every fiber of his body screamed in agony.

The gunfire sounded like thunder, echoing through him, ringing in his ears.

Exhausted, his body slumped against the cold stone wall, his eyes squeezing shut.

It was then that he felt her presence.

Opening his eyes, he found her kneeling before him.

She was as stunning a vision as she was the night of Le Gamaar's demise.

She was bleeding profusely from four bullet wounds: three in her abdomen, the fourth in her chest.

Did I put those there?

Despite this, her face was placid; a beatific smile upon her lips.

She was simply ethereal.

He wanted to sob at the sight of her, but it came out half smothered, half choked.

What has become of me?

She reached for him, his beautiful phantom, and he welcomed her, taking her into his arms; crushing her to him.

She was real. She was solid.

He could feel her warm, sticky blood soaking through his uniform.

But she was not in pain.

She took his face into her hands and with her red lips, covered his mouth.

It was chaste. It was vulgar.

Immersed with one another, he began to wonder if he had gone mad.

But if he had, he surmised, it did not matter.

Nothing mattered but the woman in his arms.

All that remained were the two of them.

The world around them was at long last silenced.


It was early morning, before sunrise.

Shosanna lay on her side. Fredrick was at her back with his arms around her; the two were tangled with each other.

Opening his eyes, he relaxed upon feeling the solidity of her body and hearing the rhythmic sound of her breathing. Fredrick held her closer to him, brushing his lips along her shoulder and up her neck.

Stirring slightly, Shosanna made a soft noise.

Smiling against her skin, Fredrick continued his path, his lips traveling the course of her neck. He then pushed back her hair with his hand so that his mouth could explore unimpeded. Fredrick kissed along her jawline, and up over her cheekbone until burying his face in her hair and taking in her scent. Awaking from his attentions, Shosanna sighed contentedly. Feeling his hardness pressed into her back, she smiled and playfully chastised him.

"You're insatiable."

Fredrick gave a muffled laugh and brought a hand up to cup her breast, her nipple hardening against his palm. His voice came low, reverential,


The feel of his breath against her skin with his body, solid at her back, and his hands, warm and strong upon her with his long, masculine fingers curling around her flesh, sent that same surge of heat and longing through her. She knew she would always feel that with Fredrick; from their first encounter outside of Le Gamaar, to here, within the confines of their room and every moment after.

Taking in a breath, Shosanna rolled over in his arms to face him. From beneath dark lashes, Fredrick watched her, a ghost of a smile upon his lips. The two now viewed each other anew; their consummation having changed everything between them. All that they were was no longer denied.

Tightly, he held her to him, his mouth covering her own; hot and consuming. Shosanna trembled, stunned by the immediate desire that rushed through her at his kiss. She flushed with exquisite warmth, her body now wildly alive to his every touch as her senses sharpened. Fredrick's mouth sank into hers, his lips exploring, taking, and giving; Shosanna felt as if she were drowning. The fury in his kiss drained away until there was only a need and passion so devastating that it coursed through every fiber of her being.

Fredrick's arms loosened around Shosanna as he brought one hand up to cup the back of her head, the other sliding down her waist and over her hip. His fingers were spread wide, encompassing as much of her body as he could; his skin was fevered and searing to her sensitized flesh. With his hand behind her head holding her mouth to his, Fredrick then rounded his other hand over the curve of her ass, caressing and squeezing as he continued to kiss her. His fingers dug into her soft flesh, pushing her up and into him, so that she felt the full length of his erection against her abdomen.

Shosanna quivered, an ache growing between her legs, warm and pulsing; she knew very much what she wanted. She pressed herself even more stably to him and moved her hips against his arousal. Fredrick pulled his mouth away, murmuring her name in a shaken whisper,


She rolled onto her back, the full weight of Fredrick's body on top of her. He kissed her face and throat; his lips, teeth, and tongue teasing and nipping at her delicate skin as he made his way down the column of her neck. Shosanna let her head loll back, offering herself to him.

As Fredrick trailed his mouth down her body, he brought his hands to her chest. She shuddered. With his fingers fondling her soft breasts, she found herself filled with a satisfaction from his touch, along with an ever-growing hunger; she needed more.

Fredrick growled and brought his mouth up to claim hers once more. As he slid his tongue over hers, his long fingers gently cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples, exciting them into hardened points and further amplifying her arousal. Shosanna squirmed restlessly, yearning for more. Her hands moved instinctively, sliding up his chest and around to the back of his neck, shoving up into his hair.

Shosanna felt as though she were on fire; everywhere that Fredrick's mouth or hands touched her, she grew even hotter. She squeezed her thighs together, the heat spreading and pooling there; insistent and throbbing. Her hips bucking against him, Shosanna could feel his hardness, agitating her further. Making a rough noise, Fredrick shifted against her, breaking the kiss and pulling back. Looking down into her face, he knew what Shosanna wanted, what they both needed; her large eyes pleading with him.

But he was not yet ready.

Fredrick carried on with his barrage of her senses, moving down to the mounds of her breasts. Shosanna let out a moan of surprise, and felt his mouth form into a smile against her flesh. She might have resented him for it had it not been followed by the hot, wet touch of his tongue, circling her nipple and curling around it. Opening his mouth, Fredrick closed it over her nipple and sucked. Shosanna arched up in response, her hands digging into his hair and her whole body tightening.

His hand moved slowly down her front, to between her legs. Eagerly, Shosanna parted her thighs for him as he caressed her. The feel of her heated center nearly made him jolt; her wetness for him, because of him. She could feel Fredrick against her, his muscles taut and hard, as though he could barely hold control over himself. Her name was upon his lips; his breath trailing over her breast, her skin prickling.

She moved against his hand in anticipation; her body tremoring, his fingers flexing. Fredrick gently nuzzled his face against her soft flesh as he lightly kissed his way across her chest and turned his attention to her other breast. As his mouth closed around her nipple and sucked, Shosanna tensed, breathless and wanting. The touch of his hand was agonizingly delicate, almost precious, as he carried on with his ministrations, arousing her past bearing, her hips rocking against him and her back arching up.

Fredrick's hand between her legs was now firm and pressing as his fingers applied the slightest bit of pressure. He rubbed her rhythmically, provoking her with slick stimulation. It went on and on, his mouth at her breast and his hand at her center; stroking, kissing, licking, and tormenting until she lay beneath him trembling, aching.

He did not yet want her to let go.

"Fredrick," his name was a sigh, "please."

Her words shook him. His hand stilled and he lifted his head. Eyes wide, Shosanna looked up at him.

Both were rendered motionless as they regarded one another.

His jaw was clenched as his struggle for control was plain upon his features; his face was suffused with lust, his eyes heavy-lidded and dark. With his rogue forelocks falling forward, he was both boyish and completely masculine.

Her eyes were bright, her cheeks blushed with color, and her lips were dark and full, almost bruised-looking. She positively glowed.

Both were left wanting; their hearts thundered, their bodies thrummed, alive to one another.

With care, Fredrick situated himself between her thighs and lowered his body to hers. Just as before, he rested on his elbows. He now placed his hands on either side of her face, threading his fingers into her hair. He bowed his head over hers; Shosanna could feel the brush of his cheek against her hair. For a moment, Fredrick pressed his lips to her temple. His voice then came weak and staggering,


She could feel him hold back and tense slightly. Shosanna went still, waiting. Finally, Fredrick raised his head, and their eyes locked. His expression was a nearly indecipherable mix of love and sorrow; his dark eyes watching her. Her breath came shallow and fast, her heart hammering in her chest. She wanted this moment. She wanted him.

In a few hours' time, the two would be leaving the inn, entrusting their lives to one another and to fate. The rest of their lives could stretch out in bleak emptiness, but for this moment, they would lose themselves in each other; they would have their solace, their peace.

Both were fully aware of this.

Fredrick continued to hold her attention, his eyes intense. His shaft was prodding at her abdomen, and her body writhed against him.

A faint smile played upon Fredrick's lips.

Leaning in, he at long last kissed her. He kissed her as if they had all the time in the world; his mouth soft, slow, and seeking. There was no hint of haste, no hurry to satisfy his own need, only a quiet, lingering exploration. Shosanna, stunned and replete, returned his kisses with a languid bliss; content to lay there with Fredrick, to feel the weight of him upon her.

She slid her hands lazily up his arms, enjoying the feel of his skin beneath her palms, tracing the curve of muscle that lay beneath. The tension that did not show in his kisses lay in his body; within the flexed muscle and forearms which supported him, and his skin, which shivered as she touched it. Testing his control further, Shosanna stroked her hand down the center of his chest, and the shudder that shook him in response awakened a new heat in her.

She moved agitatedly beneath him, unable to keep still from all that Fredrick's mouth and body aroused in her. Instinctively, he held himself to her, moving himself against her. She could feel him; hard, heavy, and pulsing.

Breaking the kiss, Shosanna took in a shaky breath. Raising his head to look down at her, Fredrick smiled in a way that made the warm ache between her legs grow. Bending forward, he placed a kiss upon her forehead, moving down over her jawline, and over the length of her neck, where he tasted her pulse and the hollow of her throat. As he brought his lips to her chest, he curved his hand over her breast, moving with infinite patience over the arc of the flesh. Reaching her nipple, Fredrick traced the outer rim of the areola with his tongue, circling again and again, until he at last touched the hardened tip at the center.

Desiring more, her body nearly lifted off the bed and she held onto him, seeking the strength of his body to anchor her. Her breath was almost a sob, caught in her throat; her impassioned arousal intensifying to such a degree that it was almost painful. Shosanna whispered his name, her head jerking to the side. Fredrick let out a groan, at last conceding and taking her nipple into his mouth, sucking as she raked the blunt edges of her nails over his back; kneading the flesh.

When she was certain she could bear no more of his affections, Fredrick let go. He hung his head for a moment, his breath harsh, his muscles clenched. Shosanna could have protested, but just as quickly as he stopped, he started again, kissing the space between her breasts and bringing his mouth to her other nipple. Fredrick's hand then came back down to between her legs, slipping into her slick folds; stroking her. Hips undulating, she moved against him, her body screaming for release. Panting, frustrated, she whimpered.

He then pressed harder, feeling her body giving way a little. Wet, ready, and entirely at the mercy of his fingers and mouth, Shosanna nearly broke down; a cry escaping from her lips. Her body wriggling anxiously beneath him, she heard a ragged groan from his throat. Fredrick was losing his tenuous grasp on his control. He moved, lowering himself, spreading her legs farther apart. She felt the probing tip of him at her center; the pressure, the fullness.

Shosanna moaned, her hips lifting up to take him in as Fredrick entered her. In that moment, they both let out a startled cry, their bodies straining and their breathing labored. He paused, his body rigid and quavering with the effort, their eyes on one another. She loved the look of him; his eyes hard and bright, intent upon her, his mouth softening with desire.

Neither, they knew, could ever tire of this. This was everything.

But Shosanna could not bear the waiting. She ran her hands down his sides and onto his hips, urging him on; her eyes on his.

"I want you," she said simply.

Fredrick's jaw tightened and he let out a little groan. As he thrust inside her, Shosanna gasped, amazed and elated at the feel of him. With great eagerness, she took Fredrick into her, silken thighs sliding up his sides as she wrapped her legs around him; reveling in the way he filled her. She wanted all of him, to possess him and to be possessed by him.

Fredrick began to move within her and Shosanna fully embraced him, gripping him to her; their bodies melding together. Running her hands over him, she found every part of him exciting: from the smoothness of his skin and the firm muscle beneath, the hard lines of his ribcage, the angles of his collarbone and broad shoulders, to the coarse hair on his well-defined chest. Everything about Fredrick, in this moment, heightened her arousal; the shape and strength of his musculature, to the myriad signs and rough sounds of his own arousal.

There was no holding back; only an overly zealous, fervid race to fulfillment. Their bodies were voraciously hungry and demanding, moving together to the completion that both desired to give to one another, to feel together. She let out a little hiccup of sound, part moan, part laughter at the sheer pleasure of his movements. And she moved with him; meeting each thrust completely, forcefully, arcing with demand with his every motion.

She relished the weight and power of his body as he arched into her, the force of him pushing into her deeper, adding his amazingly steady strength to her rising need. It was exciting to hold him this close, to feel him stroke within her; together, they moved in a steady rhythm.

Fredrick lowered his forehead to hers, his voice hoarsely muttering words of reverence in German, reverberating through her. Bringing his mouth to hers, his lips moved against her own, his tongue exploring her mouth with lazy revelry. Shosanna returned his kiss, ardently and desperately, her fingers twining through his hair, fingertips pressing into his scalp as new sensations rocked her. Clinging to him, she wanted nothing more than his hands and mouth on her, the hard pulse of him within her.

This time, the feeling now ratcheting up in Fredrick was familiar, and knowing how it felt for Shosanna only made him want it more. It was even stronger, even wilder as it filled him as he filled her, joining her to him.

The aching need both felt within was overwhelming them. Breaking the kiss, their eyes locked on each other as Fredrick, bracing his body against hers, drove into Shosanna with an unrestrained passion she had not thought him capable of. Their bodies coiling with tight intensity with every movement and every touch, they gave and took of the other all that they had. There was nothing else, nothing more than what they had with one another.

It was far too much.

She broke apart beneath him as sensations surged through her, leaving her quaking in the aftermath. Her hips bucked uncontrollably, pushing against him, her body curving into his as he thrust deeply inside her; she could have lifted off of the bed if it were not for the weight of him on top of her. Shosanna wanted to scream with joy, but Fredrick covered her mouth with his own as she felt him drive into her one last time.

Shuddering heavily, he held his mouth against hers; she had swallowed his fierce shout of satisfaction, just as he had swallowed her softer cries. They gave themselves up to one another in this moment; arms grabbing, legs tangling, and hips thrusting until with laboring breath, they sank into each other.

Shaking, Fredrick looked upon Shosanna with adoration. She smiled up at him as he gazed at her; his face was soft with contentment, his eyes lambent and his cheeks flushed. Reaching a hand up, Shosanna touched his cheek gently with her fingertips, tracing down and along his jawline.

Bringing his face to hers, he lightly kissed her brows, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, and her mouth, before then settling his face against her neck. Fredrick relaxed against her; she could hear his breathing slow, feel his body losing its former tension. Neither could speak; both were entirely spent, their bodies tired from restraint held too long.

As the room filled with the warm rays of the early morning sun, Shosanna was made aware of a distinct sense of disappointment. Their brief interlude would soon be over, and she and Fredrick would have to return to their lives. Unconsciously, she let out a sigh.

"I know," Fredrick whispered, "I don't want to go back."

He then pressed a kiss where her neck joined her shoulder, his voice hushed with veneration,


This was, Shosanna realized, what it felt to truly love another. She had never really known before, never really felt the full extent of love. It was not as sweet and ideal as it had been made out to be in her childhood storybooks; it was better. It was shocking, poignant, and achingly real. What she had found with Fredrick was raw, it was beautiful.

Her heart gloriously broke.


Her body felt like deadweight, laying leaden where it had crashed to the floor.

Her eyes were open wide, her vision hazy as the figure standing over her sharpened into focus.

He was a handsome vision in white, his youthful face smiling brightly at her.

She wanted to reach for him, to speak; most of all, she wanted to sob. But she could not. All she had wanted to articulate remained a stifled cry in her throat.

With great care, he slid an arm beneath her shoulders, the other at the small of her back, lifting her up and into him.

Where she was once slack, she was now strong, held in his arms.

She wanted to scream.

She wanted to thrash against him.

She wanted to tear him to shreds.

She wanted to hurt this young man.

He was aware of this, she knew, as he now looked upon her mournfully.

Holding her close, he cradled her, and she did not fight.

Embracing him, she felt warm, sticky blood trickling down his back.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she buried her face into his chest.

He spoke; his voice sounding like heartbreak,

“Ich liebe dich mehr, als du dir je vorstellen kannst.”

She clawed at his back, clutching him as the flames rose to meet them.


The two slept soundly.

Fredrick lay curled into Shosanna's side with his body protectively shielding her sleeping form, his face nestled in the curve of her neck and his arm draped across her midsection. Everything they were, everything they needed, was with one another. If they had been able to, they would have stayed like this; wrapped up in each other, blotting out the world.

It was, however, not meant to be.

The door swung open, startling Fredrick and Shosanna awake. In the doorway stood Edwige; posture unyielding, her face blank. Her voice was firm and even.

“It is time for you both to wake up.”

Entering the room, she closed the door behind her and surveyed their surroundings: much of their dinner was untouched, the wine bottle half-empty, as it was evident that more wine was consumed than food. Clothes lay in tidy piles on the floor, and nearby was the waxy stump of a candle, burned down to the wick. Beside the bed was a half-crushed burgundy box, its neatly pressed contents spilling out. Bed sheets were strewn about, and there in the bed were the two bewildered lovers.

Unfazed by their nakedness, Edwige headed to the window at the foot of the bed and opened it, filling the room with the sounds of the city. She then stood before them, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Do you hear that?”

There was an urgency that was not present before, an excitable energy. The two sat up, with Fredrick, now on guard, positioning himself in front of Shosanna. Though there was not yet an apparent reason to be, she was now uneasy. Straightening, she nodded. Edwige placed her hands on her hips and took in a breath before speaking.

"You and those Allied men were not the only ones with an assassination plot. There were conspirators on the inside, as well. Their plan was to be enacted on the 20th. However, because you beat them to the punch, they pulled through to tie up some loose ends."

Shosanna and Fredrick were enthralled as she relayed this new information.

"Himmler was to be apprehended by them in Berlin. But once caught, he bit down on a cyanide capsule he was saving for just such an occasion."

Edwige then hesitated briefly before clearing her throat and continuing on. There was now a sense of dread, a tinge of worry to her voice.

“Charles de Gaulle has returned to Paris. Today is now officially Liberation Day. The last remains of German military forces have either been killed or driven out by the Resistance. Collaborators and those viewed as such are now at their mercy.”

She paused, allowing for the seriousness of her statement to register with the two, watching as Shosanna leaned forward and into Fredrick. His darkened expression softened slightly as the young woman at his back circled her arms around him, resting her chin on his shoulder. He closed his eyes, easing himself into the gesture.

Suddenly feeling like an intruder for witnessing such intimacy, Edwige lowered her eyes to the floorboards and spoke gently.

“There are still more details left to discuss. For now, I shall take my leave, but I will return shortly. It would be best for you both to ready yourselves.”

With that, she left the two to themselves. Consumed with one another, they barely noticed her absence.


Shosanna and Fredrick stood before each other in the bathroom, their eyes fixed on one another. The two were almost at odds with each other.

The war was over, a fact which both should have been relieved and grateful for; but for the German War Hero and the Jewish Girl, there was still much more ahead of them. Their journey had not yet ended.

Once they stepped foot out of Le Rossignol, they both risked certain death, and all because they had survived long enough to find each other.

Separately, the two had spent more than enough of their lives surviving, which they had long since tired of. Assumed names and unassuming behavior, uniforms, perfect posture and set schedules which left no time for reflection, for respite.

All they had was one another.

They looked to the other for answers, but there were none to be found.

Fredrick broke down.

He wrapped his arms around Shosanna, crushing her to him; his face buried in her hair. She felt tremors overtake him as his body wracked with sobs; deep and pitiful from his very core.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Shosanna nestled her face into his chest. She quaked against him, and Fredrick felt as Shosanna, too, fell to pieces in his arms.


There was a turn in Fredrick, Shosanna noted, and she was not certain of how she felt.

After allowing themselves their bereavement, the two managed to fit themselves into the small bathtub together, at Fredrick's insistence. Shosanna positioned herself in front of him, her body relaxing against his as he worked to cover them both in lather.

Fredrick ran his slick hands over her, smoothing every line of her body, cradling every curve; every touch was deliberate and considerate. Though it was undeniably sensual, it was not sexual. It was, Shosanna realized depressingly, his way of memorizing her for what could possibly be the final time.

As he combed soapy fingers through her hair, Fredrick leaned into her, brushing his lips against her temple and whispering words of German into her ear,

“Ich liebe dich mehr, als du dir je vorstellen kannst.”

Shosanna closed her eyes, already mourning the loss of his scent and traces from her skin.


They dressed in silence.

He, in his new slacks and tan dress shirt, and she, in a white button up blouse and black sacks left for her by Edwige.

Fredrick busied himself with another task, and Shosanna now stood at the sink in the bathroom, her eyes on her reflection as she pinned up her hair. Very shortly, the two would be meeting with Edwige one final time for their forged papers; the rest was left to fate.

Putting the last pin in place, Shosanna noticed that her hands were mildly shaking.


She had barely made it a few steps out of the bathroom before being rendered stock-still.

Situated at the desk across from the bed stood Fredrick, his face set in concentration at what was laid out before him.

A Luger.

It was in pieces; each one he was meticulously cleaning with nimble fingers and a scrap of cloth.

Who Fredrick was did not pose an issue for Shosanna; it was all that he had done and what he was capable of that she could not entirely reconcile.

He could take her body against his with absolute tenderness, just as he could brutally force a door open with the full strength of his body.

He could whisper lovingly to her in German, just as he could have a livid outburst in her native tongue.

He was the same young man she had made love to the previous night, and he was the same young man who had made love to her that morning.

And now, here he stood, his attention focused on the weapon in his hands.

Her insides knotted; she wanted to be ill.

Sensing her presence, Fredrick turned to acknowledge Shosanna, his mouth formed in a small smile. However, the sight of her made his face fall.

Her eyes were wide and her lips slightly parted; her mouth slack. As their eyes met, she unconsciously reached for her wrist.

He turned away from her, his shoulders sagging.

Neither could quite bring themselves to speak, but Shosanna made the effort. Her tone was calm, yet questioning,


Taking in a breath, he raised his face to meet hers. She was still holding her wrist in front of her, and though standing straight with her shoulders squared, her features were softer. Shosanna was struggling, but she wanted to understand.

His own expression was steely, but wounded.

Neither could relent.

“You have had this with you the entire time.”

Shosanna was not posing a question to Fredrick, so much as she was making an observation.

His jaw set.

He nodded.

In that moment, in the way she regarded him, recalled her demeanor in the projection booth: eying him warily and attempting to hold some distance between them. Though Fredrick could not fault her then nor now, his heart still wrenched. Swallowing hard, he sought to clarify the situation, speaking with unwavering resolve,

“It is for our protection, Shosanna.”

He then sighed, giving himself a brief reprieve before pressing on,

“I had always found the notion of someone wanting to kill me absurd. I mean, I am aware of the ramifications of my actions in Italy. It’s just that… I suppose I figured that I could put it all behind me; lay it to rest.”

Fredrick gave her a weak smile and looked over the bits and pieces with resignation.

“But,” he noted with grim finality, “I cannot.”

It was held within his voice, present in his posture, written across his features; it was clear to Shosanna that Fredrick wearied of this as much as she. In order for the two to move forward together, their pasts had to be overcome. Parts of which, she knew, would remain ingrained in them; the German War Hero and the Jewish Girl.

Shosanna closed the distance between them, standing at his side. Releasing her wrist, she placed her hands on the edge of the desk, her fingertips brushing against the pieces of the pistol. Looking up at Fredrick, she held his gaze.

“Tell me about it.”

There was a tension in her voice and features, but she was trying, which he more than appreciated.

With his eyes on hers, the corners of his mouth turned up.

"Oui, Shosanna."

Even as he went about expounding upon the Luger as he pieced it back together, she remained his focal point. She, too, was intent upon him, her eyes following his every gesture. She did not want to shy away from this, from him; from what was so much a part of him.

"This is the Luger P08 pistol; standard issue. Unlike the slide actions of other semi-automatic pistols, the Luger utilizes a toggle-lock action, which uses a jointed arm to lock. It holds the breech closed by locking in a manner not unlike the human knee, which can sustain a heavy weight when straight, and once bent, is rather easy to continue to bend."

Fredrick lifted the pistol off of the desk, holding it out for her to see as he pointed out further details,

"After a round is fired, the barrel and toggle - which are locked together at that point - travel straight rearward on rails due to recoil; roughly thirteen centimeters. The toggle then strikes a cam built into the frame, which causes the knee joint to hinge and the toggle and breech assembly to unlock."

He then raised the pistol, aiming away from the two of them, but not setting it on any particular target.

"The barrel stops its rearward movement, as it impacts the frame, and the toggle and breech assembly continue their movement, bending the knee joint due to momentum, extracting the spent casing from the chamber and ejecting it. Then, the toggle and breech assembly travel forward under spring tension and the next round from the magazine is loaded into the chamber."

Now lowering the pistol, Fredrick looked it over admirably.

"It all occurs within a fraction of a second."

His eyes came back to Shosanna's face; her head was tilted to the side, her brows knitted together. Her eyes were drawn to his hands, to how he handled the pistol with a fine precision and subtle grace.

His voice now took on an intimate tone.

"It is a fairly complicated pistol. It requires quite a bit of care and tolerance. Though accurate and powerful, it is complex."

Wordlessly, Shosanna reached for the Luger and Fredrick complied; passing it from his hands to hers. Gingerly, she held it, feeling the cold, hard weight of it in her palms. Shosanna could feel his gaze as he eyed her; as her long, tapered fingers traced over every line and curve.

Lifting her face to his, their eyes met. That recognizable flicker was ever-present.

Tenderly, Fredrick took Shosanna's face into his hands, his eyes noticeably darkening and his mouth forming a near imperceptible smile as he studied her features. She was both startled and fascinated by the waiting, expectant gleam in his eyes; by the complete and total devotion.

He smiled his slow, crooked smile.

Bending forward, Fredrick touched his lips to hers, brushing his mouth lightly, lovingly, across her own.

A comfortable silence permeated the room; eyes closing, their breathing slowed, their pulses raced. Both were lost in each other.

Upon hearing the creak of the door, Fredrick broke away from Shosanna; his body straightening, he snatched the pistol from her hands, and tucking it away behind his back, he spun on his heel to face the intruder.

There, stood a mildly bemused Edwige, her arms holding garments and a small, olive colored suitcase.

"If you want to make an effort to conceal that, young man," she smirked, tossing a chocolate brown jacket at him, "then I suggest you put this on."

Without argument, Fredrick accepted both her advice and the article of clothing. Placing the piece of luggage on the desk, Edwige then looked the two over, examining their appearances. As he ran a hand through his hair, she approached him.

"Your haircut is far too distinctive," she assessed, "and it would surely give you away."

Shifting the contents in her arms, Edwige then produced a matching wool newsboy cap, which she then promptly placed on his head. As Shosanna helped him readjust it, Edwige smiled, pleased with the result.

"Until styling one's hair like that of a German soldier comes into fashion, then that should do the trick."

Turning back to the desk, she then opened the suitcase, laying the rest of the clothes in her arms beside it.

"I figured the two of you could use a few things, so I took the liberty of rummaging through the various scraps and remnants of my life which no longer serve any purpose for me."

Taking a moment to herself, Edwige looked over the items thoughtfully. Giving a smile, she then turned back to them.

"But, I suppose," she started, reaching into her pockets and removing folded papers, "that these will prove to be more useful to you both."

Taking the papers, Shosanna and Fredrick unfolded them, to be greeted by their new identities:

Rachel and Ernst Schwarzbaum.

"Simone figured it'd be best for you to pose as a married couple. I trust that this is not an issue?"

Looking to each other for confirmation, Shosanna and Fredrick exchanged small smiles.

"Non," he replied to Edwige, "not at all."

Folding her arms over her chest, Edwige held their attention as she briefed them on their backgrounds.

"Having fled Munich in 1938, Ernst, you arrived in Paris, wherein you met Rachel Stein. By 1940, the two of you married and have been living quietly since, until now."

Fredrick was especially captivated at the thought of sharing Shosanna's faith, of the two of them having shared a history. It was, above all, what he desperately wanted for the two of them.

With an excitement neither cared to restrain, the two looked over their papers, absorbing every detail.

Placing her hands on her hips, Edwige took on a more direct tone, snapping the two out of their reverie.

"Allied troops are moving in to secure Germany as it begins the task of rebuilding its government. As your luck would have it, the Americans are settling into Munich."

Fredrick came to a dead stop; he was at a loss for words. Offering a small measure of consolation, Shosanna reached out to him and placed her hand palm flat on his back, moving it in soothing circles.

The two now looked to Edwige with a near helplessness.

She was struck, in that moment, by just how young Shosanna and Fredrick were; despite their experiences, they were still only two kids trying to survive.

Edwige now softened, her tone sympathetic, yet retaining an edge,

"No matter what, get on that train, stick together, and keep your stories straight."

They nodded their heads in silent agreement, taking her words to heart.

Crossing her arms back over her chest, Edwige now had difficulty with holding eye contact.

"Pack your things," she instructed, her voice colored with emotion, "and meet me downstairs."

With that, Edwige turned away from them and made a hasty exit from the room, lest she risk losing her composure.

Fredrick released a jagged breath, his shoulders dropping. Absent-mindedly, he raised a hand to run through his hair, but was jarred to his senses at the feel of the cap instead. Shosanna futilely attempted to stifle a laugh, and Fredrick, too, could not help but smile at her reaction.

She was always his comfort.

Stepping closer, he took her into his arms, pressing her to him, with his face buried in the crook of her neck. Fredrick sighed against her, his voice small and distressed,

"Are we going to be okay?"

The warmth of his breath on her skin and the desperation in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. He felt as Shosanna nodded her head in response.

"Oui, Fredrick."

She then pulled back from him, taking his face into her hands. With her eyes meeting his, she repeated with total sincerity,

"Oui, Fredrick."

They had to be.

After everything, they had to be.

There was no other way.


They had packed in silence.

Shosanna stood at the desk, her eyes on the suitcase. Fredrick, leaning against the bedpost, thoughtfully observed her.

Everything they had left was now neatly folded and tucked away.


It seemed as though that was what her life had been relegated to; a constant restlessness as everything - every little detail - was properly ordered and filed away, only to be cast into ruins.

A constant pulling apart and restitching of the seams.

It was enough to drive her into hysterics if she had the energy and mind to.

He now approached her, standing at her back. Wrapping his arms around her waist, Fredrick brought his chin to rest on her shoulder. His voice was barely above a whisper,

"It is time, Shosanna."

She merely nodded her head.

Taking the suitcase in hand - feeling the weight of it, the strain - Shosanna and Fredrick left the room together, neither sparing a parting glance as they closed the door behind them.


Edwige resumed her position behind the desk. Liberation Day or not, she still had a business to run and appearances to keep up.

Shosanna and Fredrick both noticed the change in her demeanor, but neither outwardly acknowledged it. Instead, the two approached the desk as any other patron would. She was cordial, sticking to formalities and speaking in a clear, concise manner, her voice carrying through the lobby.

"Bonjour, Monsieur and Madame Schwarzbaum! I trust that your stay was pleasant?"

Taken aback, Fredrick did not immediately respond, but without missing a beat, Shosanna answered,

"Oui, Madame Molyneux, very much so! Ernst and I have never seen such an inn as lovely as Le Rossignol, nor have we ever been treated to such courteous service. We almost hate to check out."

Edwige was now beaming, enjoying the banter.

"Ah, most excellent. Madame Schwarzbaum, how you flatter me! But you couldn't have chosen a better time, now that you are free to travel back to Munich. Knowing that Ernst's family there is safe must be such a relief."

Now more at ease, Fredrick joined in with a convincing performance.

"Oui! My mother, how she misses me," he exclaimed, with an expression of fond remembrance and a hand over his heart.

"And," he added, looking to Shosanna adoringly and putting an arm around her, "finally she will meet my beloved, Rachel."

Edwige grinned, clasping her hands to her chest.

"Wonderful, wonderful. Now, if you could - " she then slid a leather-bound guestbook in front of him, " - sign here please."

Fredrick grabbed the fountain pen with flourish.

"Oui! Of course!"

Both Edwige and Shosanna watched Fredrick closely as he signed their names where indicated. Eying the signatures with satisfaction, Edwige reached under the desk, producing a brown paper envelope.

"Please," she smiled, "accept this as a token of appreciation."

Without falter or a second thought, Fredrick accepted the item and quickly shoved it into his jacket pocket. His eyes meeting hers, his voice cracked around the edges,

"Merci, Madame Molyneux."

Edwige gave them a thin smile, her voice choking,

"Au revoir, my dears. Do remember that if you should ever return to Paris, there will always be a room waiting for you."

All three were now struggling for emotional restraint; now was not the time to break.

Pursing her lips, Shosanna nodded. Picking up the suitcase in one hand, and taking Fredrick's hand into the other, all she could manage was a weak,

"Au revoir."

Edwige watched as the two then left Le Rossignol and disappeared out into the streets. In her time during the war, she had seen many couples come and go; but now, she could not help but feel a twinge of worry over the Jewish Girl and her German War Hero.

Directing her eyes back to the guestbook, Edwige gave a smile - if only a little - at the signatures left behind.

M. Zoller & Mlle. Dreyfus


He squeezed his eyes shut.

He breathed in the scent of her; lingering traces of the perfumed soap. He clutched her to him; her small, soft form against his hard body.

He felt as she broke down in his arms; with laughter, with tears.

The two had ducked into an alleyway to share one last private moment before having to face the raucous crowds. It was here that they had also decided to have a look at the contents in the envelope Edwige had given them.

Shosanna now looked up into Fredrick's face. Smiling widely at him, she wiped the tears away from her eyes with the back of her hand. She opened her mouth, but no words came; only a laugh of astonishment. Fredrick's lips parted, as if to speak, but he, too, was rendered speechless. Instead, he lowered his face to hers, his mouth mere inches above her own.

Shosanna could feel his racing heart, hear it pounding within his chest as their eyes met; they were transfixed with one another. Taking hold of his shirt collar within her hands, she tipped her head up; their lips touching.

Closing their eyes, they eased into each other, losing themselves to one another.

The contact, though brief, was exhilarating.

Bracing themselves, they turned to face the world. Fredrick offered Shosanna a crooked smile and took her hand firmly in his own, his other hand reaching protectively into his jacket pocket, over the torn envelope filled with a thick roll of franc notes.


The crowds were unavoidable. The entire populace, it seemed, was out in the streets, with more and more people joining in the fanfare.

Nearly every person Shosanna and Fredrick passed by gave them a smile, or a pat on the back; some even hugged them, as if they were all life-long friends.

The two returned the smiles and forged ahead; as joyous of an occasion this was, it held no place for them. Shosanna led the way, cutting through backstreets and alleyways, with Fredrick right alongside her. Both were desperate to reach the train station, to leave everything behind.

Even engulfed in the noise of the city and immersed in the public spectacle, Fredrick was steadfast and hyper-aware of his surroundings; though the possible consequences of his being found out were deadly, Shosanna held his focus.

He had to protect her at any cost.

There now were voices that carried over the masses, voices which made Fredrick give pause and Shosanna slow her gait; there was an anger present that was not felt before. The two couldn't quite see the source of it through the horde at first, and carefully - hands still joined, never parting - they edged forward to where the sidewalk and cobblestone met.

Shosanna's eyes widened, her mouth agape.

There, in the street before them, for all to see, was an array of women, from teenagers to the middle-aged. Standing guard were armed members of the Resistance.

They were all women Shosanna recognized; some she had seen out at the cafes, others had been patrons at Le Gamaar. All had been in the company of Germans. They were, however, French citizens, just as she was, living the best they could during the Occupation. Now they were forced into being a public spectacle, before an enraged audience to repent for their supposed sins.

One of the young women had become hysterical, dropping to her knees and sobbing.

It was Babette.

Her tears and pleas were fruitless, serving only to stir more vitriol from the crowd.

Fredrick immediately stood closer to Shosanna, shoulder-to-shoulder. Her insides lurched and twisted; if it were not for the strength of him and his support, she too, surely would have collapsed to her knees.

One of the Resistance members overseeing the situation approached Babette, flanked by two other men. Violently, he jerked her up, raking his eyes over her with disgust. The other two, now standing on either side of her, yanked Babette to her feet, propping her up as her body had how gone slack.

As they berated and taunted her, the man produced a straight-razor. Wasting no time, he went to work hacking away at her hair; lush, dark curls falling away and revealing the pale skin of her scalp.

The mass roared with approval, and Babette's face crumpled in grief.

Shosanna and Fredrick watched on in utter disbelief. She felt nauseated; her palms were moist with sweat, and her throat had gone dry as she worked to suppress the rising bile in her stomach.

Babette raised her bleary eyes to the congregation; in their direction. She said not a word, but Shosanna was certain she had recognized them.

The two of them were, Shosanna noted grimly, her only allies.

There was nothing either of them could do to help Babette; not if they had wanted to survive to see Munich.

Disturbed and sickened, Shosanna squeezed Fredrick's hand tightly. Closing her eyes, she then turned away, with him following closely behind as she blindly pushed her way through the swarm of bodies. Once they broke free, Shosanna quickened her pace to a jog. Holding onto her, Fredrick matched her stride as she cut a path through the streets and alleyways.

Finally, after rounding a corner, she came to a stop, her breath heavy, her lungs burning. Face flushed, Shosanna looked to Fredrick, her eyes clouded with an infinite sadness.

He did not question, he did not argue.

His own chest heaving as he regained his breath, he met her gaze; his eyes were dark and glistening.

Fredrick stepped closer, pulling her tense body against his, his arms caging her to him. Disquieted, Shosanna stood in the circle of his sheltering embrace. Though his hands moved softly and soothingly on her back, Fredrick was overcome with a rage and sadness that almost surprised him. As a soldier, he was trained to think, not to feel; he was driven by instinct. He now felt, more then ever, that instinct to survive, which powered him in the bell tower.

But more than survive, it told him to protect.

Protect her.

He could not fail her.

Fredrick sighed, his body shuddering. Jerking her head up, Shosanna looked to him. Slowly, he raised his hand up, bringing it to cup the side of her face. Leaning forward and into her, tentatively, he kissed her; his lips a light touch upon hers.

In spite of herself, she smiled.

Taking her hand in his once more, Fredrick and Shosanna moved onward.


It was, they had known, an unavoidable sight in their journey. She had planned its destruction and both had watched as it burned. Still, neither could help but stand in a stupor before it.

In the bright light of day, it was entirely different from the fiery behemoth it was that night.

It was a proud monument to film.

It was where Shosanna had worked and lived, alongside Madame Mimieux and Marcel.

Now, it was a charred, ruined husk of what it once was.

Flowers and momentos were piled around the entrance and front of the theater, all for the Allies and for Emmanuelle Mimieux; for their brave sacrifice.

Above it all, over the marquee, was Fredrick; his half-burned, though still handsome visage proudly staring out over the horizon, like a sentinel standing guard over the remains of Le Gamaar.

As more and more people gathered to pay their respects to Emmanuelle, Shosanna and Fredrick turned away.

That part of their lives was now over.


The two were near exhaustion as finally, they had reached the train station.

With the generous amount of money given to them by Edwige, Shosanna and Fredrick were able to afford first class tickets and their own little room. Both were more than ready to have time alone together, and once they could set foot on the train, they knew that half the battle would already be over.

As they checked their luggage and prepared for boarding, Shosanna gave Paris one, last backward glance. Amongst the throng of well-wishers, she caught a glimpse of Genevieve Molyneux amongst them, smiling and waving.


Her back was against the wall with his body pressed to hers. She could feel the heat of him, even through the barriers of their clothes.

His mouth on hers was demolishing, yet tender. Again and again, he kissed her, his breath catching in an almost painful knot in his throat as he absorbed the gratifying, alluring warmth of her mouth.

Her hands tightening on him, running over his chest, she marveled at the strength of him; of the crush of his body over hers. He was always such a contradiction, her German War Hero.

Raising his hands to her face, he held her focus as it narrowed and honed in on him; his own attention to her resolute. There was nothing else.

His fingertips traced over her jawline and further up, to her cheekbones. Her mouth on his, she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Sinking into her, feeling her tongue slide alongside his, he trailed over the contours of her face, smoothing his thumb over her scar.

Closing her eyes, she shuddered, sighing into his mouth.

For long moments, Shosanna and Fredrick remained like this; lost. Lost in the feel and taste of each other, lost in the sensation of being together; after everything, they needed this, needed each other.

She wanted more.

He wasn't holding back from her - Fredrick never did - but after the events of the day, he held a strict control over his body; control Shosanna wanted him to release. Here, in the confines of their room, she wanted to forget, she wanted to remember. Most of all, she wanted to feel.

Fredrick understood. He had to.

She broke beneath him, grabbing handfuls of his shirt, pulling him tighter against her. He responded with a heavy sound, deep and low in his throat. Wrapping his arms around her, the kiss grew harder, fiercer.

He was warm; so very warm and so very close now.

He could feel her heartbeat, so wild, so fervent. And he could feel her heat; feel as it pooled wet between her legs as she pressed against him.

Shosanna wanted more of Fredrick. In her desire for him, she pulled at his dress shirt, along with his undershirt, yanking the layers of clothing loose from his slacks and slipping her hands up underneath the shirts, seeking his warmth.

"Shosanna," his voice came low and rough against her lips.

She persisted, not able to hold back; her hands still under his shirts, stroking over him. She could feel his muscles contract and relax with her touch, the pace of his heart rate quicken, feel him tremor as her thumb brushed over a nipple.

"Shosanna," he was firmer now, though his voice cracked, if only slightly, adding a new dimension of emotion.

She stilled her actions, her hands now palm flat on his chest. She could feel the rise and fall of it; his breaths came slow and heavy as his pulse eased. There was a stitch in his brow, his eyes darkening as he studied her features.

Her lips parted, but no words came, just a gasp; soft and breathy.

Bringing his hands from her body up to frame her face and sliding fingers into her hair, Fredrick now bowed his head to Shosanna. In response, she tipped her face up to meet his, their noses barely touching. Her hands on his chest slid to his back, gripping. His body tensed, his lips quirked.

There was no space between them. Her breathing had changed, quickened, and with each shallow pant, her breasts moved against his chest. His body shifted against hers, the heat of him stirring in his lower abdomen. She could feel how hard he was for her.

Fredrick brushed his nose against her cheek and down along her jaw, slowly exhaling in her ear. Taking in her quiver, he sighed.

Another sound escaped her, low and uneven. Pulling back from Shosanna, he let his gaze settle on her face. Mouth wet, she stared up at him.

There was still much left to declare between them. They could feel it now, more than ever; could feel as the weight of their feelings and the gravity of their actions bore down on them.

Their eyes meeting, not a word passed between them.

The next chapter in their lives together was only beginning.

où: WORK.
se sentent: contemplative
( Post a new comment )
[identity profile] earthtobells.livejournal.com on November 9th, 2010 08:58 pm (UTC)
I'll go first :D

You can't imagine how welcome this was in my chaos of a life right now. It was just what I needed (since this is the only Mel/Dan baby-makin' process we get for now), and I'm so glad you're continuing the story ^_^
A few things:
I probably have that German phrase memorized by now for re-reading the chapter. German-speaking Fred is always love.
Poor Babette. I'm suprised she didn't tell on them, though.
I love the new layout.
But I love the Iggy and Tom .gif you used more. Probably my favourite part of Coffee and Cigarettes.

I'll shut up now.
http://suspiriorum.livejournal.com/: All for freedom and for pleasure[identity profile] suspiriorum.livejournal.com on November 10th, 2010 03:29 am (UTC)
Aw, thank you! I'm glad to provide any enjoyment I can ♥ I've very fond of KFAD, as it allows me to explore their relationship and their traumas. I ended up writing over a 20,000 word long part 7, so I've divided it up into three parts, as it had the perfect transitions to do so. Part 8 will be posted this weekend, and part 9 next week. /ramble about writing process

German-speaking Fred pushes all the right buttons. He was the only German (who wasn't a murdering dick like Landa) Sho knew who spoke her language, so I love having him openly and comfortably speaking his language to her.
I couldn't help but think of that happening to Babette when watching IB, and as admirable as the Resistance was, the targeting and treatment of women on Liberation Day was appalling, and I wanted Shosanna, especially, to see that. Maybe it's because Babette was played by Jana who also played Elli, but I don't think she'd have it in her to give them away (and then, in turn, have them powerless to help her).
It's my favorite layout in the entire history of my LJing. I love the simplicity of black, white, and gray.

"Well... we could go to Taco Bell if that's more your style."
I love Tom and Iggy a ridiculous amount and absolutely, they're my favorite part of Coffee and Cigarettes.

[identity profile] earthtobells.livejournal.com on November 10th, 2010 09:05 pm (UTC)
Great! I'll make sure I read it.

I pretty much swoon everytime Dan speaks French (I don't know why, but I do) and I was never really interested in German until Daniel became one of my favourite actors. Do you speak German at all?

Jana and my best friend have the same surname. I wonder if they're related. Heh. /random useless...thing.
Yeah, you're right. Nobody would have listened to her anyway. But I liked that you included her. Your story is definitely not like the usual fanfictions. It's...I don't know what the word is, but I love your details.

I really like the part with Cate Blanchett and her rockstar cousin, too. And the scene with Renee. It doesn't explain much, but she's gorgeous!

http://suspiriorum.livejournal.com/: 50 ft. Queenie[identity profile] suspiriorum.livejournal.com on November 12th, 2010 03:59 am (UTC)
Oh, yes, I love hearing Dan speak French (along with Spanish, and I love how his accented English sounds). I think it's because Fred speaks it so much in order to communicate with Sho that I love the idea of him speaking German to her intimately. I don't, but one of my close friends does (she's going back to Germany for the second time next year to study abroad), and she's basically my English-to-German dictionary.

Ha! Here's some random useless for you too: Due to a delightfully, contorted family history, my dad has commented that our surname should probably actually be Hopper. So I asked him if we could be related to Dennis Hopper, and he wouldn't doubt that.

I was glad to include her as I wrapped up the loose ends in Paris. It worked better to have Shosanna to see such an atrocity committed against someone she knew, even if just barely. Thank you! Details are very important to me, which is a major part of why writing and updating KFAD can take so much time, as everything has to fit together and flow well. And to sound pretentious, I took art lessons for a number of years as a child, and it was stressed to us over and over to pay attention to detail.

Cate was good, wasn't she? I love her in indie films (just like with Reese Witherspoon; she was excellent in edgy, indie films). Renee is just as mysterious in real life. She gained quite a few fans from that segment and hardly anything can be found about her.
[identity profile] earthtobells.livejournal.com on November 13th, 2010 04:58 pm (UTC)
Dan speaks German, Spanish, French, English, doesn't he? The guy's a genius. I mean, I speak 5 languages myself but they're all useless. I'd trade 3 of them to speak French right this minute.

Hahaha. Oh my. That would be awesome. Do you have a family tree or something you can check? My father has one, and so far, no celebrity relatives that I know of (except some basketball player on NBA and a few lame singers in Turkey).

You can tell you spend a lot of time trying to make it perfect, and it's very much appreciated. I speak on my behalf anyway.

I haven't seen any indie movies with Reese at all. I've never been into her, but I'll take your word for it. Anything you suggest?
I know, I was so suprised! I was googling her after seeing the movie and I couldn't find anything. She's in like, what, 1 movie besides C&C, I think? That's just too bad.
http://suspiriorum.livejournal.com/: Günther/Hilde - Love in Thoughts[identity profile] suspiriorum.livejournal.com on November 18th, 2010 02:49 pm (UTC)
I'm impressed that he was able to get his French speaking skills together for IB. He talked about it in an interview that he was familiar with the language, but worked to become fluent for the film (and that Fredrick is a genius for being to speak it without a German accent).

Unfortunately, our family tree isn't terribly definitive. We have quite a few bastards and an orphan, so it's all scattered. I have family in Norway that we were able to track down years ago from my orphaned grandmother, though. They're chemical engineers. I considered taking a trip just because and then asked my mom about the possibility of meeting someone and having them turn out to be related to me. She said they'd be so far removed that it wouldn't matter. IDK, it amuses me how nonchalant she was about it.

Thank you! I'm very proud of the fact that I take my time with writing fic. I figure if I'm going to make the effort to write someone else's characters and then post it on the internet, then I can't half-ass it. Part 8 is coming this week, btw. I would've posted it last weekend, but I wanted to add more of Fredrick's introspection (I love getting in his head, basically).

I became a fan of Reese's from another friend of mine who used to tape a variety of strange films late night from Showtime, one of which was Freeway. If you ever watch anything of hers, then that's it. It's a version of Little Red Riding Hood with Reese a barely literate juvenile delinquent wanting to find her grandmother, who was the only caring relative she ever had (the actress who plays the grandmother, I've learned, holds the world record for being the oldest porn star). Kiefer Sutherland is the big bad wolf of the film (and a creepy pederast). It's darkly hilarious and was one of the first films I ever bought on dvd.
Her first film, The Man in the Moon is also worth watching. It's a quiet little coming-of-age story with Tess Harper and Sam Waterston as her parents. She and her sister fall in love with the same boy, which divides them, and tragedy later unites them.
Then there are the two totally '90s/Gen X indie films S.F.W. and Overnight Delivery. I also loved her in Pleasantville, Election, and American Psycho. She's excellent with dark comedy, which is probably I enjoyed so much of her work over the years.
[identity profile] earthtobells.livejournal.com on November 25th, 2010 08:01 pm (UTC)
Yes, I read that too, how he spoke half French and half Spanish or something? I guess it's easier for them. I have a couple of friends from Honduras who speak Spanish and French and Italian fluently since they were kids. I'm so jealous.

Some people tend to care about that a lot. We've been getting phone calls from people claiming to be our relatives lately (haha, that reminds me of Alfred Molina and his distant cousin in Coffee and Cigarettes) and that's when my dad started researching for our family tree.

Don't ever get out of his head. I'm forever grateful for that, really :P
Thanks so much! Otherwise she would've been stuck in my head as the girl from Legally Blonde forever (I am once again caught in my prejudice).
http://suspiriorum.livejournal.com/: Die die my darling[identity profile] suspiriorum.livejournal.com on December 9th, 2010 07:54 pm (UTC)
I am so stupidly jealous of those who can speak so many languages so easily. IDK, I'm a sad American with a grasp of French and that's it.

The department I work in at the library has the genealogy section, so I tend to see folks pretty regularly working on their family trees. Some of them have interesting stories, such as a fellow who was in recently digging up info from our German newspapers on a fellow named Fritz who knew his mother. Obituaries are a big thing in our department, too. I'd love to trace my family line, but I have no idea where to begin. My ancestors on my mom's side were vikings, and one of their ships is in a book, so at least there's that.

It's quite comfortable in his head, I do know that. It's foreign to me that others don't see him as I do. I'm saving part 8 to post with part 9, as both flow so well into each other (and part 9 is just about finished).
You're welcome! I figure that everyone should see Freeway at least once in their lives. Based off of her present career, I can see why others would be turned off to her.
[identity profile] earthtobells.livejournal.com on December 10th, 2010 09:09 pm (UTC)
Most of my American friends can't speak any other language than English, so you're still good. I think that once you get the grasp of one of the Romance languages, the rest just come along. Sort of. *says the person who pretends to speak Italian and French but can't, really.*

Vikings? That would be so interesting to research. I've been told my ancestors are from the Ottoman Empire.

GREAT! Now excuse me while I read that.
I'm looking forward to Water for Elephants, at least. (Mainly because of Christoph, of course, but I really hope Pattinson won't disappoint and I'll get to see how Reese does, finally.)
http://suspiriorum.livejournal.com/[identity profile] suspiriorum.livejournal.com on December 11th, 2010 07:11 pm (UTC)
At least I'm one step ahead of most. Learning Spanish would be more useful as an American, though. When I have the time (in between work, writing, and procrastination), I'll need to work on my French. At least I can sit on my high horse and notice translation errors in subtitles.

It is! That'll be something else I'll have to do when finding time for French, as I have enough information to get started. The Ottoman Empire? That's quite interesting. I confess to not knowing enough about it, but wikipedia is certainly cluing me in.

Yes! I'm currently toiling away on it. Then much editing shall commence. I'd like to see Water for Elephants, too. I'm still a bit annoyed with Christoph for dropping A Dangerous Method for it. Not that I wanted to see him as Freud, but his treatment of David Cronenberg was shitty. I'm definitely curious to see how Reese does opposite them both.

For no reason, a .gif:
Fredrick Zoller/Shosanna Dreyfus
[identity profile] earthtobells.livejournal.com on December 13th, 2010 08:02 pm (UTC)
Really, from what I see, you seem to be really good at it. And I couldn't be more jealous. I'm the one who needs to work on her French here. *sob sob*

He was going to be in A Dangerous Method?! I had no idea! I only heard about that recently and only because both Viggo Mortensen (whom I adore) and Michael Fassbender (of course I'd want to see him anywhere after IB) being in it sparked my interest.

A GIF. Always welcome. Now, I don't have much to offer you, I bet you've seen every .gif there is with Mel or Dan, but Danny and Quentin here thank you for your time.
Image (http://photobucket.com/images/daniel%20bruhl)
http://suspiriorum.livejournal.com/[identity profile] suspiriorum.livejournal.com on January 9th, 2011 09:31 am (UTC)
Thank you kindly! I also have an older co-worker who corrects me if I mispronounce/mistranslate anything. Which reminds me, Mel is in Paris Match, so I'll have to have a look at it (she also gave an interview wherein she talked about Damien Rice breaking her heart and how she's a dating technician and hopes to get pregnant).

He was! Cronenberg talked about it in more detail, about how Christoph pursued him to get the role of Freud because Christoph claims his father was a student of his. Though that helped them get funding, Cronenberg was left floundering because Christoph dropped out pretty quickly for Elephants. Funny, because now Rob is going to be in Cronenberg's new film.
Now, here's Fassy from Vogue:
Michael Fassbender

I love that .gif! [livejournal.com profile] mrsvixen made it. To be a total crackpot, look at how Melanie is looking at Daniel.
You know, I even .giffed her saying "Daniel Bruhl" from one of her interviews. It was too cute not to.
[identity profile] earthtobells.livejournal.com on January 25th, 2011 10:17 pm (UTC)
I definitely haven't read that interview yet. The only one I read where she mentions Damien is one where she talks about doing Basterds in general and mentions she's crazy about him in the end. (She also said she was very suprised when she discovered that Quentin put some "really romantic" music on her death scene - meaning our anthem Un Amico, I presume).

Having to pick whether Christoph or Viggo would be better as Freud would be the most evil thing that could be done to me, ever. I really hope Viggo doesn't disappoint me.

OH, FASSY. WHY SO CHARMING. He actually looks a lot like this guy from a lame soap opera my mother watches, but I have no idea what his name is.

You did?! How ADORABLE. Would I be asking too much if I begged you to show it to me (I'm on my knees and all, I swear).
http://suspiriorum.livejournal.com/: [act: TW] The Marlon Brando of women[identity profile] suspiriorum.livejournal.com on January 26th, 2011 10:43 am (UTC)
It's pretty recent. She's really excited about her album, though, and wants to take time off this year to tour for it.

Viggo has yet to disappoint me, and I especially love him working with Cronenberg. Also, there's Vincent Cassel, which is an added bonus. And Vincent, it seems, has a big mancrush on Fassy.

Fassy's so charming that I'm willing to pay to see him awkwardly dressed as Magneto.

I did! And not at all!
Melanie Laurent/Daniel Bruhl
She mentioned him as she talked about how she auditioned with him in Paris, and then talked about IB with Quentin. I love how everything she's said about Daniel is so unprompted. She just brings him up whenever.
[identity profile] earthtobells.livejournal.com on February 12th, 2011 09:03 am (UTC)
I wish I could see her perform. She'll probably tour around Europe if she does (but I have a feeling it'll be around France) and nowhere near where I live. *tear*
VINCENTTTT! True, I might always remember him as the ass in Black Swan but OH I DON'T BLAME HIM FOR HIS CRUSH ON FASSY.

THAT. IS THE MOST. ADORABLE. THING. EVER. I'm just glad she brings him up at all. Every interview I read seems to be about everyone else in the movie but him, and not that I don't like the others as much, but Danny needs more appreciation :P
http://suspiriorum.livejournal.com/[identity profile] suspiriorum.livejournal.com on February 15th, 2011 08:06 pm (UTC)
I know she wants to tour everywhere for it, but I haven't heard much else about it. I'd love to see her, as from what I've heard of her singing, she has a great voice.

OH GOD I HATED HIM IN BLACK SWAN. WHEN HE CALLED NINA "PRINCESS" I WANTED TO VOMIT. His crush on Fassy is most delightful, though. Vincent just seemed so thrilled to have found him; said something like how Fassy was never on his radar before, but now he's glad he is.

ISN'T IT? I LOVE HOW SHE APPRECIATES DAN. I don't think I've heard anyone praise him as much as Mel and Quentin have, and aside from him, they're the most important out of everyone. Also, Fassy seemed to love creeping on him at Cannes. Daniel needs more appreciation always.
[identity profile] earthtobells.livejournal.com on February 16th, 2011 08:55 pm (UTC)
I've only heard En t'attendand. I wonder if all her songs will be in French? I'd die from happiness if she sang in English too.

Oh my god, imagine how weird it felt since my name is Nina too. I hope he gets to make up for that in A Dangerous Method.
I found the absolutely delighting quote where he's flailing over Fassy: "He’s wonderful. He has charisma, he’s light, he’s talented, he’s good-looking. I think he’s going to have a wonderful career, honestly." I hope Vincent and Fassy don't just leave poor Viggo to hang out alone and, you know, embrace him too.

Of course they would, Danny has it all - he's adorable, he's gorgeous, he's multilingual, and he's European! :P
http://suspiriorum.livejournal.com/[identity profile] suspiriorum.livejournal.com on February 17th, 2011 12:38 am (UTC)
I'd love to hear her sing in English. I watched enough of her English speaking interviews for IB, but hearing her in the trailer for The Beginners sort of knocked me back. She needs to be like Dan and learn to speak 5,000 languages. They also need to record a duet of the two of them reading the phonebook. I'd listen to that on repeat.

OMG, ew. I'm sorry about that. My name is Miriam, so I've only heard it in Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte. It's not quite the creeper level of Cassel in Black Swan (he's really good at playing unsettling characters). Hopefully he does. There's also Eastern Promises 2, and I loved him as Kirill in the first film. I LOVE THAT QUOTE. Nothing will ever beat "You're so French/You're so German", but I almost want to take that quote and make a wanky graphic out of it.

No wonder he and Mel were having eye-sex at the Cannes press conference:
Melanie Laurent and Daniel Bruhl are having eye-sex
IDK, I never get tired of that
[identity profile] earthtobells.livejournal.com on February 23rd, 2011 09:28 pm (UTC)
Everybody needs to be multilingual like Dan or Christoph . It's just not fair. *sulks like a child*
The phonebook! That's definitely a career path for them. Throw in a few "You're so French/you're so German!" lines, and I'll die happy and go to heaven.

Well at least your Miriam was played by Olivia de Havilland. That's not bad at all. Not that I'm complaining about Natalie playing a character sharing the same name as me (I may have freaked out in a good way when I first heard the name in the movie), but still.
I don't blame you if you make that graphic. I'll shamelessly advertise it.

OH GOD SO CUTE. Christoph looks suspicious, but of course he's not gonna say anything about that.
http://suspiriorum.livejournal.com/: [act: DB] Reflect what you are[identity profile] suspiriorum.livejournal.com on March 3rd, 2011 02:06 am (UTC)
Everyone really does. I don't even know what'd I do with that many languages, but I know I'd be like, 50% more charming.

It's almost criminal how there is no video or any other recording of their little play fights. I bet Quentin was so completely delighted by it all, with giggling and excited hand-clapping. It totally would've made for a great set of extras for the IB dvd.

That's the only Miriam I know of on film. Shosanna's mother was named Miriam, too, and Landa spelled it Miram because he totally doesn't care about correctly spelling Hebrew names. But, at least you know how your name sounds pronounced by Vincent Cassel, right? I've been looking through photos of Vincent to complement that one of Fassy so I can properly cram them together. Something black and white. Make it classy like the rest of my rpf madness.

Their interactions at Cannes will be the death of me, I know it. My dear [livejournal.com profile] ellista has been .giffing the hell out of them for our amusement and to see them in motion is even better (takes a moment or so to load, but worth it):

I think Quentin is the only one to really notice. Christoph is the only one to care about Mike, and Eli and Brad are too busy acting like boyfriends.
They have so many little moments like this, of subtle eye-sex, basically.

[identity profile] ellista.livejournal.com on November 10th, 2010 12:08 am (UTC)
Beautiful :')
Best. Intro. Ever.
It made me wanna cry, but not as much as when they said farewell to Edwige. I just felt like holding her hand and sitting down with her to bawl our eyes out together, lol.
http://suspiriorum.livejournal.com/: Your secrets sleep[identity profile] suspiriorum.livejournal.com on November 10th, 2010 04:50 am (UTC)
Thank you so much ♥

I love working with their traumas (as weird as that might sound), especially through their dreams. After what they've both been through, I imagine rest would not come easy, as well as seeing the influence they have on each other. Sandwiching their second time together between those dreams seemed fitting, too.

Aw, Edwige ♥ She'll feel better after knowing they arrived safely, I'm sure.

Which would be followed by more tears.
[identity profile] piecesofalice.livejournal.com on November 12th, 2010 10:33 am (UTC)
All that they were was no longer denied.

I wish I had proper words, but they would be drowned out by keyboard smashing and a high-pitched noise that can only be heard by dogs.

Thank you for continuing their story. Thank you for being brave enough, as wanky as it sounds.

Happy birthday. You're creating a masterpiece.
http://suspiriorum.livejournal.com/: Why the want for all that I can't touch[identity profile] suspiriorum.livejournal.com on November 12th, 2010 12:44 pm (UTC)

Thank you so very much, and I mean that, I really do.

If not for your support as I work through KFAD, with all of my whining and rambling over details at you, I wouldn't have come this far. If we hadn't even met, I wouldn't have come this far with their story. It'd have remained a one-shot.

Part 7 was difficult to write, because it is a transition. Part 6, they consummated and determined their relationship, and part 7, the day after, sees them heading to Munich for the next stage of their lives together when there's still much between them to be acknowledged. They both know this, both want to move past it, but even doing that will take effort.

Thank you for continuing their story. Thank you for being brave enough, as wanky as it sounds.
You're very, very welcome. I couldn't imagine not continuing their journey and relationship together. If I didn't, I can't even imagine what else I'd have written, as so much else has benefitted from me writing KFAD. I love Sho/Fred on such a personal level, so it has become quite personal writing them, especially their vulnerabilities, but I like where I take them and where they take me. /wanky

Happy birthday. You're creating a masterpiece.
You know how to get at the tenderest parts of me, don't you? As egotistical as it sounds, I do think I'm making something special with KFAD. It's been very creatively fulfilling.