Author's Note: This story came up from the help of a lovely lady (a reviewer) of my stories! She inquired if Der Tod had a sister, and if they would ever meet. And, if I was to write one, could it be La Mort? So, the more I sat and thought about it, I wondered... where would I put her? Where would she go? And then, I realized that the beginning is the end is the beginning (ha). Elisabeth was not with Der Tod at the beginning of the Essen version, and he spoke that he 'had' loved her. So, what happened to her? And calling upon Greek mythology, jealousy, and imagination, I crafted this story to give my own ending to the Essen version.
As always, Der Tod is Uwe Kroeger and Elisabeth is Pia Douwes. As for La Mort -- she is open to portrayal. I have no idea who plays her, so hopefully you'll see her as something beautiful (as she was written to be).
And lastly, I do not own Elisabeth das Musical. That belongs to Michael Kunze and Sylvester Levay. Without their brilliant dedication to such a rich musical, and spanning so many globes, I don't think such a story I created in this follow up would take place.
Enjoy!
"Elisabeth! Help! My lady, Elisabeth! She has fallen! … Oh god, she's dead!"
Elisabeth remembered those last words so well. She feared to believe them as she raised her head up, finding it difficult to do so. Was she alone? She could hardly tell, her eye sight had been failing her… and even now, it was much harder to see.
But, she knew she was alone… Her hand shakily moved to her breast, feeling warmth cascading over her fingers and then her hand. She could smell the blood, it was strong.
She closed her eyes, not ready to give in just yet.
"Elisabeth," a voice said softly, calling through the dark corners of her mind.
I know that voice, she thought. I know who you are… She only thought of one person within this time, one person she had known that had followed her from the ends of the earth and beyond. The one person who lingered in the darkness, waiting for that moment – and it finally had come.
She opened her eyes, and there he stood: dressed ever so formally in his long coat of midnight blue, standing motionless. His icy blue eyes fixed on her in rapt attention.
She bowed her head once more, finding it even harder to hold her head up.
"Elisabeth," the voice surrounded her like water, and she closed her eyes, drinking in his presence. He was near her now, and she could feel the cold draft of his hand flow over her hair.
"And, so, here we are… Your veil has fallen and you are now part of shadow…" He paused, as if wanting to say something more. But, he did not.
She looked up to him, finding it easy to now do so. He was staring down at her with a dark intensity… a longing even! But, before she could reach out his hand, he moved away from her.
"Don't keep me waiting," he murmured without care, waiting for her to join him.
She could not believe his words. Nor, could she believe the moment. For once, in her angst ridden life, he was regretting this moment. He was regretting it? She stood, finding it easy to do so. And when looking down, she saw her body. She seemed cold, lying on the stone walk of the dock.
But now, now she felt warm. Incredible warmth surrounded her, leaving her stunned. And looking down at her own form, she was surprised to find herself dressed in a long gown of white. Her angelic attire, perhaps, or … something a little more?
She gazed back to Him, standing there, watching the setting sun. He had not moved, waiting ever so patiently.
Slowly, she glided to him. And when she could not take it any longer, she ran to him. And reaching him, a foot away, she stood there, not knowing what to do.
Her hand reached out and touched his shoulder, and then, her entire body melded against his back. She then wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into the velvet.
"You're here," she murmured, "you're here…" Were they sobs?
She felt him turn, ever slowly. And then, she felt his warm hand reach beneath her chin, urging him to look up into his eyes. And she did not hesitate to do so. For the first time, she witnessed something new.
It was joy. His eyes burned with a longing that she was sure he had never shown to another. He released her chin, wrapping a hand around her waist. She reached out, touching his cheek. He instantly touched her skin again, closing his eyes. Relishing in the touch that was now the warmth he wanted. Everything was so new, so different. Everything was the opposite that she thought she would feel.
"I've… searched," she murmured, "and I've cried, and I've laughed… And every moment, you were there…" She embraced him, holding onto him, not wanting to let him go.
She felt his hands rising to her hair, holding her close to him.
"Elisabeth," she heard him murmur, "…I…have always…"
She lifted her eyes to him, imploring him. "Say it," she whispered, "say it."
"I love you," he said, his lips gliding down to meet hers. "I have always loved you."
And then, she felt the one thing she had longed for. His lips on hers, giving her that kiss. That beautiful kiss – the end of all things and the beginning of a new life! His lips were soft, warm, and wanting. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he pulled her even tighter against his tall frame. She continued to press her lips against his, feeling his tongue urge to meet her own.
She hardly knew how long they kissed or how she got to become cradled within his arms. But they were still kissing. And she hardly paid attention to her surroundings. For all she knew, they were together.
She belonged to him; he belonged to her.
Time has no meaning, not a whisper of essence where she was now.
She did not know how many months, how many years passed by. But wherever she was now, she was happy. Because she was with the one person she wanted to be with, the one person she longed to be with. Him…
He lived in wherever he wished to live. It was if the seasons changed at his will, the sun and moon rose and fell at his will… Everything he did, he did it out of the kindness and gentleness for her. Because, now that she was with him, she had filled something deep in his heart.
Everyone knew her, he made sure of it. His followers bowed to her, for she was royalty. She was the bride of Death. She did not care for the titles, she became used to it. All she cared was the amount of attention she received from him.
He was always at her side, showing her everything he wanted her to see. He treated her childlike wonder with care.
"Are you happy, Elisabeth?" He asked her, making their way through the corridors of his realm. He had made it afternoon. Sunlight came flowing through the gothic like architecture that surrounded them.
She moved her arm around his, laying her head on his shoulder gently. "Yes," she murmured, "why would I not be?"
"I don't know," he said, "for, after so many years, so long… I have never felt the way I feel for you than for anyone else."
"I hope not," she said, closing her eyes. "Sometimes I forget who you are, and where we are…"
"And is that a bad thing?" He asked, gently. "It should not matter where we are, or who we are," he said, stopping in their walk. "Just, we're together, dear Elisabeth."
She gazed up at him, reaching for his cheek, cupping it and bringing her lips to his. "I know," and she moved her body against his. Rakishly making it known for them to be more together…
Of course, one thing that had changed was their lovemaking. It was new now that their lips were finally able to meet. It was a different experience, a soulful experience.
He instantly picked her up, and with his grace and power, the hall materialized to their room. He immediately pulled her to the bed, urging her down first. Things were different. For now, there was no need to remove clothing when with a thought, it was gone. Leaving them skin to skin, ready to take their foreplay to where it was destined to go.
He instantly parted her legs, settling himself between them. She found her hips arching to meet his, wanting him to be joined with her. He laid a hand down against her curls, urging her hips back down to the bed. His hand slid to her maidenhood, parting her folds expertly, now knowing her quite well.
Elisabeth threw her head back, enjoying the feel. He sought his lips with hers, and joined her in one quick thrust. It was hard, it was rough, but it was beautiful. She curled her arms around him, quickly moving her body to meet with the glide of his hips.
"Elisabeth," he hissed, "you are beautiful… a goddess…"
She loved to hear him say words like this to her, it was more passionate, more fierce than it had ever been.
"You," she murmured back, "are my dark prince…" She lifted her lips to his ear, nibbling on the lobe. "Now," she whispered huskily, "make love to me."
"With pleasure," he said pressing his lips to her neck, thrusting back into her again. She cried out, raising her eyes to the ceiling, where a mirror hovered above them. It wasn't until mid thrust when she found them not to be the only two reflections.
She stopped, almost sliding from him. She sat up, frightened of the form that stood at the other end of the bed. He had instantly stopped his assault, finding her fear disturbing. He immediately withdrew from her, turning to see where she had lingered her gaze to.
The figure belonged to that of a woman. A very beautiful woman! To look at her, instant jealously flowed through her veins. She glanced over to him, wanting to know the meaning of this intrusion. And apparently, from the look on his face, it seemed that He had known who she was instantly.
"La Mort," he hissed, "you're presence required my most immediate attention?" His blue eyes had turned dark.
"Of course," she cooed, sweeping her long dark hair back behind her shoulders.
Instantly, she was clothed for she noticed he was clothed as well. He brought a knee up, gesturing to Elisabeth with a calm, cool manner.
"This is my bride, Elisabeth…" He turned his eyes then to Elisabeth. "My dear, this is La Mort, my sister."
Elisabeth felt her jealousy relax, just ever so slightly. She glanced back that the beautiful woman, her eyes fixated on her with rapt attention. Just like her brother, she thought. She was dressed in blue as well, a gorgeous blue gown that flowed as she walked. She made her stride around the end of the bed and closer to where Elisabeth sat. La Mort reached out a hand, brushing it across her cheek.
"My dear," she whispered, "welcome. I hope my brother has been quite the lover with you."
"That is enough," He barked, "out."
La Mort flashed her eyes to him, they became slits instantly. "I must speak with you," she murmured, "and I shall wait. Just do not forget who you are." She gave one glance back to Elisabeth, then raising her hands, with a fluid gesture, she disappeared into darkness.
They were alone. His eyes roamed to hers, and she looked away. She could feel his hand curling around her own, and he pressed her back down against the mattress.
"Where were we?" He asked, closing his eyes and lowering his lips back to her. But her head turned, making him kiss her neck instead. She felt his breath against her cheek, and his long fingers turned her face to his.
"Elisabeth," he asked, gently, "I know your eyes. I swear I had the same feeling flicker through them when I would watch you…"
She looked back to him. "I feel embarrassed, and I feel humiliated." She moved from underneath him, and he fluidly rose and followed her as she roamed across the room and sat at her elegantly vanity. For, he had made sure that her beauty was always natured.
"And now you are jealous," he said, placing his hands slowly on her shoulders. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her face reflected that of her twenty year old self. Where, she knew, it was only a guise.
"She is beautiful," she whispered, her eyes looking away from her reflection. At an instant, he fell to a knee, urging her chin up to his gaze.
"And you are not? It is not your beautiful face that keeps me to you, Elisabeth. There is more than that. Besides, she is my sister. You are my bride."
"I know," she said, reassuring herself, "I know that…" She looked to the door. "Well, she wants to speak to you, go to her."
He nodded. He gently threaded his fingers through her long, wavy hair. "And I shall return to you, Elisabeth." Turning quick on his heel, he disappeared, leaving her painfully alone. She cast a glance back at herself in the mirror.
He did not return, and so she went to find him. The sun was still shining through the windows. She closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling.
"Too bad it is fake, my dear," the voice surrounded her, startling Elisabeth. Opening her eyes, she saw that she was alone. He was not the one that said it; it was a woman's voice.
She wrapped her arms around her shoulder, hurrying away. She made her way to the one place she was always uneasy of going to. The throne room…
It was quite different than the throne room she could remember. It never changed; it was dark and filled with His followers. Even sitting at his side once in a while, she felt a tad uneasy having their cold dark eyes follow her every move.
Reaching the entrance, she could see that his followers were grouped. Something was amiss, and something required all of their attention. She eased her way through the room, making her way to the front.
"We must respond," she heard him say in a direct tone, "and we must be there quickly. There will be many lost, but we must see to it that they are escorted to where they are meant to be."
Reaching the front, she saw him standing on the elegant staircase before the throne. His sister stood at his side, pensive and unmoving. Yet, when Elisabeth made her way to the front, her eyes caught sight of her.
"We must be gone, now," He said, casting his gaze over them all. And with a sweep of their hooded cloaks, they all disappeared. She flinched at their quick movements. And she was now exposed to their glances.
When he saw her, he made his way slowly down the stairs. "Elisabeth, I must leave. There is a war, and…it is important that I am to be there."
"I understand," she said, nodding her head. "When will you return?"
"I do not know," he said, "but my sister is here, she will see to your company…" He gestured to her, and La Mort descended the stairs regally.
Elisabeth nodded, and he brought his lips to hers, drinking her in. She wrapped her arms around him tightly.
"Return to me," she murmured, "I will wait."
"I know you will," he said. And he paused, looking to his sister. "Take care of her."
La Mort bowed to him. "As you wish, brother," she said softly. "Elisabeth and I shall become greatly acquainted."
He gave her a long, lasting look. With a lingering touch, he brushed past her and disappeared. She was now alone with La Mort.
Beautiful La Mort, looking at her with those intriguing eyes. She seemed like an Egyptian, and at the same time, something from a faerie tale her father used to tell her.
"So, dear Elisabeth, I heard of you," she murmured, "Sissi, Elisabeth of Austria!"
"Yes," Elisabeth answered, "that is who I was."
"And that is who you still are," La Mort said, prowling around her, her eyes roaming her. "I can see why my brother loves you. You are beautiful, and you are timid, shy, but…proud, and strong." She stopped, resuming her stance before her. "You are equally paired."
"Thank you," Elisabeth answered back, not knowing if she should take that as a complement or not. La Mort said nothing for a moment, and then linked her arm around Elisabeth's.
"Come," she said, "let me show you my favourite room!" She was giddy now, like a little girl. Elisabeth felt a bit more relaxed. La Mort gestured with her free hand and a hall appeared before them. "I am sure," she continued, "my brother has not shown you this hall?"
"No," Elisabeth said quietly, "I don't think so."
"Of course, it's not his favourite hall, but it is mine," she finished as she approached a large door. Releasing her arm, she raised her hands to the large handles, prying it open. The door opened easily (to Elisabeth's surprise), and La Mort held out her hand. Elisabeth was slightly frightened, but she accepted the offered hand and followed her in.
"Welcome, dear Elisabeth, to the room of souls," she said, releasing Elisabeth's hand.
It was a large, circular room that's boundaries were quite unknown. But in front of her were dozens of souls, each walking a circular walk towards a door in the very middle. Elisabeth looked to La Mort, whose arms were crossed and looking triumphantly over the sight.
"Why did you want to show me this?" Elisabeth asked, not understanding.
"Look at them," La Mort said, "none of them can see us." La Mort walked over to one, a man, brushing her hand over his cheek. "And they can't feel us, either. We are just… in their way."
Elisabeth watched them continuing to take their walk towards the doorway in the middle.
"Recognize anyone, dear?" La Mort said, casting her glance back to Elisabeth. "Each step they take, it rids them of a memory, a year, a moment in their life. It's a walk of forgetfulness," La Mort said with entranced eyes.
"I've seen enough," Elisabeth said, turning to go. But La Mort now stood between her and the door.
"But, Elisabeth, this is a family reunion. You see, this is where you would be, my dear…" La Mort turned her around, whispering in her ear. "Do you not see?"
And Elisabeth now knew what La Mort was saying. This is where she would be, this is where she would have gone. Her eyes saw what La Mort was talking about. Her husband and her son were directly in front of her, nearing the walk to the door.
"They don't remember," La Mort said, watching Elisabeth break away from her. Elisabeth could not tear her eyes away from them. I know them, but they don't know me… Her heart leapt when she saw their familiar faces, remembering her joys and sorrows shared with them.
"But," La Mort said, softly, "We have seen enough." Elisabeth felt her long hands on her arms, turning her around. "Come, you look like you could use a drink. You have become awfully pale."
Elisabeth gave one last look back at the souls continuing her walk, and her son and husband moving ever so much closer. She turned her head on them, and looked up at La Mort. There was something in her eyes that made her uneasy again. But, then again, He had said that their emotions were hard to configure and understand. Perhaps it was her way of showing pity, or sorrow?
Elisabeth left the room, the doors closing behind them.
La Mort kept watching her from the corner of her eyes. Elisabeth was wondering if she was waiting for her to speak about what she had just seen. But she did not inquire for they now entered a new room, one that was made almost entirely out of glass.
Elisabeth shuddered. Her eyes caught sight of her reflection in one of the mirrors across from her.
"Elisabeth," La Mort called, now standing in front of a large table with a glass in her hand. "Drink, it will make you feel better."
Elisabeth looked at the liquid inside the crystal glass. It looked like water.
"Just water, my dear," La Mort said softly, "just water…"
Elisabeth approached her and took the glass she was offered, thanking her slowly. La Mort poured her own glass, instantly taking a drink. Elisabeth raised the glass to her lips, smelling the liquid.
"It's not poisoned," La Mort laughed, "it's just water…"
Elisabeth hesitated once more.
"I'm sorry," Elisabeth finally said, "I am usually like this with… strangers…"
La Mort laughed once again, shaking her head which caused her long tresses to dance. "Oh Elisabeth, we're not really strangers, in fact, I feel like we have known each other."
"Really?" Elisabeth asked, intrigued.
"Yes," La Mort said, "most definitely, my dear."
Elisabeth drew out a chair, sitting down in it. La Mort placed her glass down, looking over her with a careful eye. "Elisabeth, are you well?"
"Yes," she said, "I'm… I'm just worried, I guess."
"Worried? Worried about my brother?" She laughed. "Elisabeth, he has lived for centuries. He has always done his work without fail."
Elisabeth nodded. La Mort chuckled. "I was in love, Elisabeth. Once in all the years I've served, like my brother, I fell in love with someone. He was like you, high spirited, alive, and … charming."
"But, my brother was stern. When he began, Elisabeth, he was not the man you knew now. He was… cold, and righteous. He kept these thoughts about my relationship with the mortal hidden until my lover died. And he joined me…"
Elisabeth felt dizzy, but she continued to listen. She pressed her fingers to her forehead, trying to dull the ache that was appearing.
"And so, one night, my lover could not sleep. He left the room and apparently found my brother. My brother offered him something to drink." La Mort held up her glass, swishing the contents. "Unfortunately, for my lover, since he knew little of the rules of this realm, the dead cannot drink water presented by the lords. Unless they can be trusted…" La Mort placed her glass down slowly, walking around the table, her eyes on Elisabeth. Elisabeth raised her head weakly to look up to La Mort.
It was not poison that La Mort had given her, it was something else. She had this planned all along!
"He drank enough to make him forget. I came too late, for my lover was gone, and now enslaved to the room of souls."
Elisabeth looked down at the glass in her hand. No… I can't… She looked back up to La Mort, straining to keep focus.
"…I never forgot what my brother did," La Mort said, one of her delicate hands clenching into a fist. "I swore I'd take my revenge… And I waited so many years! And never did I think that he would be in the same predicament as I once was."
Elisabeth tried to stand, but she ended up knocking over the crystal glass in the process. The glass fell to the floor and shattered into a thousand pieces.
"How… could you?"
"Did you really think that my brother could love you? He the Lord of the Dead, Elisabeth! He has no time for mortal love. His punishment made me see, to think clearly."
Elisabeth slipped to the ground. La Mort rounded the table, kneeling down on the glass, which had little effect on her. She tilted Elisabeth's head up to look into her eyes.
"Elisabeth, Empress of Austria…ma Cherie. Au revoir…" La Mort's lips descended on her own, and her kiss was the last thing she remembered. The blackness enveloped her instantly.
Der Tod entered the realm, expecting to find Elisabeth waiting for him. But it was silent in the throne room. Perhaps Elisabeth was awaiting him in the bedchamber. He smirked, walking through the realm boundaries to the bedchamber.
But she was not there, her robe was still on the bed, and the sheets were still unmade since they last occupied it.
"Elisabeth?" He called, his voice bouncing off the walls of the room. It was his ghostly echo that replied.
Something was wrong. He quickly wandered the realm boundaries, searching for the one person that he left in charge with Elisabeth.
"La Mort!" He bellowed, striding down the hall towards her favourite room.
"Are you searching for me, Dear brother?" La Mort asked from behind him. He whirled on her.
"Elisabeth," he growled.
"Elisabeth is here, brother," she murmured, striding to him, touching his cheek. "You frightened me, I thought that something was wrong."
He grabbed her hand roughly, his blue eyes turning dark. "There is something wrong!" He whipped her against the doors to the chamber. "…What did you do?"
She looked up at him, a smile appearing on her lips and reflecting in her eyes. "She's a foolish girl, brother. Why didn't you tell her…" She chuckled. "Why?"
He threw her aside and pulled open the large doors to the Chamber of Souls. Entering it, he looked for her, and then, he saw her. Elisabeth…
He walked slowly to her, his mind lost for words. Elisabeth did not notice him, how could she? She had no memory, no feeling. She was not Elisabeth anymore, just a shell. He slowly reached out to touch her face, but he knew she could not feel his touch. She was no longer his to control.
"You cannot love what you cannot have," he heard her taunt. "After all, you know better than I… all those years ago."
He turned on her, astonished. "So," he murmured, "this is why she is where she is!"
"Yes!" La Mort shouted back, striding to him in a whirl of fabrics. "I did it! You took from me the one thing that I wanted. Why should I not do the same?" Tears were falling down her cheeks.
He looked to her and then back at Elisabeth. He knew he could not bring her back. Once one drinks, they forget. Once they enter the door, they enter another realm, a realm he had no control over.
"Get out," he whispered, "stay to your realm." His hands clenched into fists, rounding on her again. "You are never to return here again!"
But she was gone. And he was now alone, except for the hundreds of souls who took the walk. He looked back to Elisabeth… knowing that he would never see her again.
He heard his name in the darkness, a taunt almost. He had spent his years, trying to forget her, but still, night after night, the same question.
"Why did you murder the Empress Elisabeth?"
"He told me to do it, Death!"
Luigi Lucheni, Elisabeth's assassin, held to questioning in the opposite realm. He could feel it when someone called his name, and night after night, his name was announced as the 'culprit'. And still, the realm did not believe him. Who would with such a faerie tale?
He could not take it anymore. So, he finally decided to approach the other realm. He hardly ever visited it, but he decided that finally… he would admit what he was to admit so many years ago.
It was quite a sight that he was greeted to, he knew them all well. Her foolish assassin summoned them to this 'court' session.
Lucheni was shocked to see him, finally. He stuttered. "I present… his Majesty, Der Tod!" He fell into a mocking bow, his eyes looking up to him.
He smirked. "So," he said, "it is you who has been calling my name all these years. The same song, the same dance," he said, looking around at those souls gathered around him. "Why do you wish to hear from this fool?"
"The Empress Elisabeth," the unknown voice responded, "her life is a mystery. And to give him a final say on where he shall reside, we must ask him why he killed her."
Der Tod paused for a moment. "And, what has he said?"
"That you, Der Tod, were the motivator of his crime…" the voice responded.
He hesitated, looking over to Lucheni who continued to watch him from lowered eyes. He was afraid to look at him. And he should be afraid! He was the one who sentenced him to this realm.
"In all the years that I serviced the realm, I have done what I am told to do. I take who I am told to take. Young or old, it does not matter." He hesitated. "I cannot say how it happened, but I loved her…"
"… Lucheni, what is this?"
"You have waited years, and I have told you the same story all this time! Der Tod!" Lucheni shouted to the realm guardian. "Der Tod! Only Der Tod was my motivator! She wanted to be with him! He loved her and she… loved him…"
"This is your motive? What was the reason for her death?"
Der Tod looked to Lucheni, staring him down.
"Their love, their love was the reason for my motive!"