Well, it seems I have a talent for turning fluffy pieces into pure angst against my will...

So many thanks to Ceinwen, Followsleep, and you too, toolazytologin (love that name!) for sticking with this experiment. And 10 points to Mordhaus if you can guess who Dr. Muertrevisage is! Shouldn't be that hard… :)

The next day Toki stayed in bed until noon. He rose languidly- it seemed as though every limb was weighing him down. He leaned his forehead against his hand as he slipped into the hallway. He had barely slept and he had a nasty headache.

Passing the grand staircase, he caught sight of Marie Antoinette and the court physician. They made quite the contrast- Marie was pretty and light while the doctor was heavy set with a features that looked like random lumps of clay.

"Toki!" called Marie. She smiled at him, but he was immune to her charm at this moment. "Did you enjoy the concert last night?"

She could not realize how cruel her question was, and he murmured a faint 'Yes,' but she was barely listening anyway.

"Have you met our royal Physician, Dr. Meurtrevisage?" She laughed aloud. "Likely not- he's such a busy man, aren't you Docteur?"

The doctor bowed deeply even while holding a tray of tonics. "I am alwaysh at your shervish, your highnesh." He had a thick lisp, probably due to the huge gap in the front of the his teeth. With his massive curled wig he looked like a deformed poodle. He probably knew it too: his face was pressed into a deep scowl.

Marie laughed aloud. "He's been assisting all over the court. There were so many fainting ladies, and sadly not enough cavaliers to catch them. But you'll bring them to, won't you Docteur, with your famous tonic?"

The Physician lifted up his nose. "I assure you, my Queen." What nobody knew was that the famous Eau de Planète was half urine. His urine.

Marie smiled as Dr. Meurtrevisage hurried up the stairs. "I have to admit I'm rather fond of him," she said. "Even if he is a bit of dick."

Toki looked up at her in surprise. He had never heard her utter a coarse word.

She sniffed at his reaction. "You didn't expect to hear me say that?" she said, toying with the cuff of his sleeve before slipping her hand into the crook of his arm. "Oh, Count, you can be so innocent sometimes! We're going to have to put on you on the first ship back to Norway."

Toki's body stiffened. He knew it was a joke- only a joke, but it made him sick inside. It hit too close to his greatest fears.

"Now, walk with me," she said, tilting her face towards his. Her dogs appeared at her feet and followed them down the steps of the terrace. Marie hummed to herself and plucked a random flower as they passed under a trellis. Then her quick eyes darted to the fountain.

"Is that Baron Skwigelf and the Duchess of Polignac?" she asked, her face brightening, as she motioned to two figures seated on the fountain's edge.

Toki kept his features steady in the queen's presence, but he felt like crumbling from within. Yolande was dressed in satin with string of pearls around her neck, and Skwisgaar wore a long grey coat. They were leaning towards each other, their shoulders nearly touching. Yolande's finger's played in the fountain, and with a quick gesture she splashed Skwigelf slightly, causing him to jump backwards. The two of them laughed, and drew together again.

"They've been together since this morning," said Marie, opening her parasol. "In my opinion," she whispered, "There's something between them."

"You mean…" Toki took her hand in both of his and looked at her earnestly.

"I have no idea what I mean," she said, lifting her finger to her lips. "Oh, it's Monsieur Cornichon!" She motioned toward the terrace. "I must speak with him! He's promised to teach me to do shots- have you heard of it? I think it's something like backgammon." She turned away with a flounce of her skirts.

The day passed, then the next. Toki sat in the library on the third afternoon, staring mournfully out the window. It had been an hour since Skwigelf and Yolande had walked this way, but they hadn't come by again.

It had gone too far, and he had to take action. He had to find Skwigaar alone- or should it be Yolande? He had no idea which of them to confront. He had spoken to Yolande the day before, but she had seemed not to notice his bitter expression or one word replies to her questions. There had never been any real understanding between them. But there had surely been something there! It was never spoken, but alluded to in gestures and glances.

He was shaken from his reverie by a deep voice. "You reads the books here?" He turned sharply, and faced the Baron.

"Swigelf," said Toki dully. It half greeting and half accusation.

"It's Baron Skwigelf," said the Swede, running his fingers along the rows of books. He took a seat facing Toki. "You can calls me Skwisgaar."

Toki's eyes pursed together and he folded his arms. "No, Skwigelf suits me fines."

The Swede grunted. "It ams good we're going to duels next weeks then. Otherswise I'd haves to fights you again today." In spite of his hard words, there was a slight smile on his lips.

"Your French is terribles," said Toki, sneering.

"Ja," said Skwigelf, adjusting a lock of hair. "But it ams never a problems for me."

Toki's face flamed. "Yes, it ams all so easies for you! The money, the fame- the womens."

"That ams true," said Skwisgaar.

Toki's eyes narrowed. "Then perhaps ones less won't hurt you. Stay the fucks away from Yolande."

Skwisgaar learned back in the chair. His eyebrows rose and he studied Toki. "Ah," said. " It ams about that."

"You finds her crying and you takes advantage of her."

"How did you-" Skwisgaar's lips pursed together and he looked out the window. "It wasn't likes that. We ams friends."

A wave of relief passed over Toki. "You swears to me? On your honors?"

Skwisgaar shrugged. "Well, we mades the love in bed, if that's what you ams asking."

Toki buried his face in his hands. It had been terrible not knowing, but knowing- it was worse. He was afraid to raise his head for fear of the Swede's expression, always mocking. But when he looked up Skwisgaar's face was full of concern.

"I didn't knows…" he said slowly, his eyebrows crinkling together. "You loves her?"

Love her? And it dawned on Toki that he had never thought to ask himself. But it hurt, and badly.

"You knows when you feels something, something strong but you don't knows quite what it is…" Toki didn't realize why he was trying to explain himself Skwigelf, but he couldn't help himself. He looked up into the Swedes face, and the dark blue eyes were fixed on him. "And you wants it- you wants it badly, but you don't thinks there's a chance…."

Skwigelf's pupils dilated. "Ja," he said slowly, his gaze never leaving Toki's face. "I knows the feelings well."

Toki turned away. "I hardly believes you. You just fucks and forgets." He balled his hands into fists. "Oh, Gods, not Yolande…"

"Listens," said Skwisgaar fiercely, leaning in towards him. "She ams not nothings to me. She's a sweets ladies, and lonely, and I thinks I makes her happy for a whiles. And she knows I goes…" at this point his voice trailed off before he continued. "She knows I must goes soon, but we ams friends."

"I don't believes you. You don't cares about her, and you takes her, you just takes her leaving me with nothing and-"

He paused. There was a stricken look on Skwigelf's face, and he was clutching the edge of the chair until his knuckles were white. His lips parted as though he meant to speak, and then closed again.

He didn't took so intimidating then, just like a man, and vulnerable one. The change frightened Toki. He barely knew what he could believe anymore. But the man was an actor in a way, a performer, and could deceive him with appearances.

Toki took a step backward, and nearly stumbled on the chair behind him. Collecting himself with a deep breath, he made for the door, and slammed it behind him.

He had not intended to seek out Yolande- what could he possibly say to her? He wondered if he judged her. In his mind Skwigelf had callously taken advantage of her, of the cruelty she suffered under the Duke.

But how could she succumb to him so quickly? This was a time where virtue was to be strictly guarded. Things were far more lax at Versailles so long as they were discreet. In Lillehammer Yolande would be shut up and ostracized- under the strict Lutheran doctrine of his community she would have lost everything. But Toki had known religion with all its confinements and none of its love and mercy. Beauty and joy and the thrill he felt when his fingers grazed the electric guitar meant so much more to him than any prayer.

He didn't have to seek out Yolande after all- she came to him. There was a tap on the door of his chambers, and Bellanger had announced her. She wasn't supposed to come in, and he had never wanted her to- his apartment was dim and lifeless, without any real taste. It was a relic of his father. He had meant to remodel it, but he had never felt secure enough to invest the money and time. It had always seemed to him, in the back of his mind, that the hours would run out, and he would be sent home.

He hesitated before letting Bellanger escort her in, but she brushed past the valet with a steady courage, and found herself in his presence. He was seated in bed with a trashy novel in his lap. He had been trying to scan it, hoping the obscene love scenes would elicit some reaction in him, but they had only sickened him.

Yolande looked around her in dismay. These rooms- they had no soul. They were sparse, empty, and dark. What a place for such a charming man to hide himself away! Worse yet was the Count himself- his pale eyes were dull, and his handsome features had grown pale. Her eyes darted to the book in his lap- she knew what it was, and blushed, but he made no effort to hide it.

Yolande looked lovely to Toki, even in the greyish light of the room. Her cheeks were glowing and her hair was artfully tousled, with a single brown curl trailing down her bare shoulder. But he turned his head from her, staring out the grimy window.

"My dear Count," she said, gently reprimanding him. "What are you reading?"

Toki only shrugged. "What should it matters to you? We finds our comforts in our own way." He looked her straight on, and his normally bright eyes chilled over.

She sat on the edge of the bed, her arm making a perfect curve as she supported herself. Why did she have to do everything so gracefully? It infuriated him.

"What has happened to you?" she asked, her features illuminating. "You won't speak a word to me, and you've been shut up in here for days."

Toki's lips twisted downward and he turned from her.

"I know it's hard for you. You've always been so talented, and Baron Skwigelf is a great guitarist-"

"You've taken quite the interests in him," said Toki bitterly. "Some might say too much of an interests."

Yolande's face paled. Her lips moved, and Toki wasn't sure if he enjoyed her discomfiture or if it saddened him.

Her head fell. "You know then."

"Oh yes, I knows." His voice was hard and brittle, and he feared it would crack.

"Toki- you have to understand…" her voice trailed off.

"Oh, I understands. Perfectly. He's been with half the womens in Europe, and why not one more? You makes a fools of yourself- and for him?"

Her face flashed. "Oh, no, I don't think I'm the fool here. There's only two years between us, but sometimes I think you're young- too young to understand these things. I don't speak of it, because it's unseemly, but I don't think you realize what I've suffered at the hands of my husband. And it seems I can never speak of it, but must keep this constant silence." Her mouth pursed together. "I know what Skwisgaar is, Count Wartooth, and don't think I'm expecting him to sweep me away. But he had the kindness to comfort me at a terrible time, and if it went beyond that- it simply happened. No, I don't love him, but he is a dear friend to me and I won't have him made a foul seducer."

He couldn't turn to face her, and was silent. Too many thoughts were circling though his mind. Yolande walked to the door, but turned towards him as her hand was on the doorknob.

"I hope you will think over what I said, Toki," she said gently. She was usually strict with titles, and when she used his name it was a sign of special tenderness. "Don't hate me, and don't condemn Baron Skwigelf. I know what you are, and it doesn't suit you." With a sigh, she lifted up her skirts and left the room.

Toki threw the book to the wall, and forced himself out of bed. He pulled aside the heavy grey curtain, and stared out into the brilliant summer sun that cast a patina of gold over the treetops. He could barely process the thoughts churning within. The worst of it was that in all his admiration of Yolande, he had barely thought of her suffering. She had been to him a thing of beauty, and he had longed for her wise council and her friendship. She had comforted him, but he had never thought to protect her.

She was right. He was still in many ways a child. And then Skwigelf- the famous lothario, the heartless lover- he had made a friend of her and unearthed the secret pain in her heart. Unearthed it- no, it had been painfully obvious, and only he, Toki, had been oblivious to it.

But why did it have to go further? Why did she have to give herself to him? And his mind wandered reluctantly to the long winter nights at Lillehammer, to that loneliness bordering on madness. He had craved someone to hold, and that need for comfort had melded with a fierce lust. During those hours his heart and mind and body had conspired together to create an unquenchable longing. It was too recent, and he still had those hours, even here in the beauty of Versailles. No, he couldn't condemn her, and Skwigelf- Toki thought of that face in the library, so unguarded and in its uncharacteristic softness, so beautiful. But he wouldn't think about that, not now.