Celebwen Telcontar: Yes, I have read that Cosima Liszt was even more of an anti-Semite than Wagner was, but for this purpose, I have made Wagner have the control over their relationship rather than her. Please do not Flame me for this, because this is my own work. She was a very possessive person in reality, as she is here. Please just hear this out.
Cosima sat heavily on the edge of her bed. She had been married to Richard for a good five years, and her three children by him, out of wedlock, were away with their nannies. She was in a prison of her own room. Richard seemed to want to control the entire household, which he was doing rather effectively.
The young woman closed her eyes. Her husband, her brutal second husband couldn't control his hatred of all who were different. He hated the Jewish community, and he also hated anything out of the ordinary. When she had married Richard, she had been deeply in love with him. He was an expert composer, and her father had approved quite nicely, after all, Franz Liszt was also a composer.
When Cosima Wagner opened her eyes, she saw that her formerly locked door was unlocked, and the slightest bit open. She gasped, and wished, fervently, to be anywhere other than where she was at this moment. Then, it felt as if she were being shoved into a tiny space. Her body felt as if it was being compressed, and she felt as if her eyes were going to pop out of their sockets.
Then, the strange sensation was over. Cosima was no longer in her room, but was in a street. Cobbled stones and blackened streets from the soot showed that she was in a large city. People were speaking in English, and with a heavy British accent, so Cosima assumed that she had somehow ended up in London. How, she had no idea.
"Miss? Miss, are you alright?" a kindly voice asked her. She looked into deep ebony eyes and saw that the man was a gentle-looking fellow. His long, black hair was tied in a horsetail at the base of his neck with a royal blue ribbon that matched his... robes, for lack of a better term.
"I...I vill be vell," she whispered. The man steadied her as she felt like she would fall over. "Ich werde ganz richtig sein, Sie müssen nicht mich halten, als ob ich etwas zerbrechliche Blume der Albernheit, Sie Idiot war!" she snarled at him. What had happened to her? Then, suddenly, her mind seemed to have had too much stress, and she toppled backwards in a swoon.
Translations: Ich werde ganz richtig sein, Sie müssen nicht mich halten, als ob ich etwas zerbrechliche Blume der Albernheit, Sie Idiot war!—I will be alright, you don't have to hold me up as if I were some fragile flower of idiocy, you moron!
Celebwen Telcontar: How was that for a prologue?
Balrog: To be honest, it's frankly quite disappointing and thoroughly pointless.
Celebwen Telcontar: Balrog! Review, people. Bitte? Please?
Balrog: You speak German? Ich wusste nicht, dass Sie Deutsch sprechen! Warum erzählten Sie mir schon einmal nicht?
Celebwen Telcontar: Er... eh... nien? I... I don't speak German, and I never told you because I don't speak German. I didn't know that you spoke German, do you? Ich spreche Deutsch nicht. Ich spreche gerade das viel für Bitte und Dankeschön.
Balrog: I see. Unfortunately, I speak fluent German. You, obviously, don't.