for ambitious_woman Back to Earth, 1750

[quitehomoerotic]

There's something about Earth.

Out of all the places out there, all the little planets in the sky, Earth just has something special. He wanted to go back, and he hated that he wanted to go back. He'd ran away from there for a reason; he couldn't cope with it any more. It wasn't like he was even born there, sure he spent over a hundred years there, kicking his heels, saving the place on countless occasions, but it shouldn't matter so much to him! But there he was, sitting on some dirty transporter, wondering about getting back.

He couldn't go back though. He couldn't go back to there and then and the people he left and the people that left him. He'd ran so far across that planet to get away from the things that hurt, but it was just too small. Impossibly small and those troubles were right behind him, peering down from him from above. Guilt weighing down on him that he just couldn't escape.

So he stayed away. He stayed away and kept quiet. Frequented corners of dingy bars and found solace in the bottom of a bottle.

But it wasn't what he wanted, and pretend as he might that he was okay with wallowing, he wasn't. He wanted to be doing something, anything, and that damn feeling that Earth was where he should be just wouldn't quite go away.

That's when he realised; he had only one option. Go back. But not now.

It's also when he realised that he had to fix what had been broken for over a hundred years. He had to get himself back in the game.

Out in space and with the resources on the various ships he'd found himself travelling on, it was surprisingly easy to happen upon the little components and tools he might need. He'd never found them on Earth, but then he never did have that sort of luck. It took a while, but he got there, bit by bit amassing what he needed until finally he could sit down and with care take apart his vortex manipulator and put it back together again with new and renewed working technology.

He could go anywhere.

But where? Earth, of course. But not a place he'd been, not a time he'd been. Somewhere new, but somewhere that would be enough to comfort him in knowing he was 'home'. So he didn't make a decision as such, he just put in some parameters to avoid (Cardiff being the biggest), and he pressed the button and hoped for the best.

When he arrived, without even needing to check he knew he was on Earth. It had that smell, that slight mix of something in the air that always seemed to be there, no matter where or when you were. Good, he thought, good. This was good. He didn't check when or where he was, that could come later. For now he'd explore (and he'd forgotten how nice that could be).

So that's what led him to walking around a vast (and likely very private) garden, lined with intricate designs of flowers and plants. French, he suspected. That was okay, he hadn't been to France in a long time.

Maybe he'd enjoy this.

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[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Privately, on occasion, she could not help but wonder if it was time to leave this place. Not as she had so many times before, packing up their days and amusements to properly with, and guiding Louis from one moment to the next. Not as she had the very first time, fresh from meeting the king that stood so long as her ambition, sure of the knowledge that she had captured his attention. And not even as she had so recently, taking that single step away from him before he took the all more damaging first step back. Instead choosing her successor, moving her rooms and reimagining her life.

She still stood as his first companion, and she now counted him as her dearest friend. But he also represented her deepest failure. The betrayal of her own body and the one thing she was able to fully control. Every smile she still shared between them was still tinged with something bitter, just beneath her tongue. She was glad, then, they no longer shared any more lingering embraces, else he would taste it as well.

And she did not want that. For him, and the guilt he might feel. Nor for her. She was not meant to be so exposed.

Reinette loved the gardens of Versailles. They were one of the reasons that she lingered now. She knew them well, so well that she often partnered with the gardeners in their planning and design. Even now, in the winter with a distinct chill in the air that sent many of the plants to sleep, she could see what they would be. The beauty that would bloom when they reawoken.

She was still just unsure if should be there to witness it.