#letters from m/m (paris)

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M/M (Paris) / Volume / Letters from M/M (Paris) – Histories / Book / 2023

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the art of lies | t.s. (fantastic beasts) - chapter one

Summary: all your life you had been handling the dirty truth, and here he comes presenting you with his sweet lies. 

Pairings: Theseus Scamander x Fem!Reader

genre: romance, mature audience intended

warnings: mature themes, implied sexual content, sexworker protagonist, pleasure house (brothel), smoking

the art of lies masterlist

IN THE ABSENCE OF DAYLIGHT, Paris comes alive, after all, it is known as the City of Love.

Love in the form of freshly picked flowers from the florist.

The sweetest chocolate that tickled your taste buds.

Hand-written poems that rivaled world-renowned poets.

A love so sweet and tender that it caresses you gently in the night

But that certainly wasn’t the truth, it never was. Love wasn’t like that. 

Love was the thorns that hid beneath the roses.

Love was the bitter taste that lingered in your mouth after your first dark chocolate.

Love was the letter from lovers that had written goodbyes instead of ‘I’ll stay’.

Love was the harsh tug of your hair, the rough hands that hold your wrists, saying the words ‘You are so beautiful’ only when you are in the middle of the bed, spread willingly to the desires of man. 

Here, in Paris, is nothing but filled with nights of debauchery where all senses are thrown out the window. The sickening smell of expensive perfume and wine drowning you in the world of sins. And Paris was notable for it, here you are free! Or so they say.

Truth be told, you could never be free, always staying in hiding from the Non-Magiques. And here you were indebted to your handler, Madame Blanche, the owner of the renowned luxurious Maison close ‘Amour Délicat’. 

Like her name, the whites in her hair and the sharp look in her eyes tell her story. She was a former courtesan before and when the first war of the non-magiques happened there she learned something that would give birth to her only child, the Amour Délicat. When she shared the truth of what was happening in the world of the non-magiques to the Ministère des Affaires Magiques de la France (Ministry of Magical Affairs of France), Madame Blanche was greatly compensated, and there from the ground up, she built her history. 

Madame Blanche is far from the harsh and ruthless handlers in the non-magiques world of prostitution; she is commanding and ruthless. When she saw the reality of the world, it opened her mind to do whatever it takes to protect herself, and that is by being well-known that you create a sense of security in being seen. Here she opened her doors to those willing to work for her, at first, many were wary as to join and take employment, the look of disdain and gossip were indeed not for the faint of heart. 

And you who had nothing to lose, took the first bite and jumped straight into death potion. 

You, who only had your name and the clothes you wore on your back crawled straight inside Pandora’s box. 

Madame Blanche had saved you, she had given you a roof, food, clothes, and the protection that you needed. The life you formerly had was long gone; it was all in the past, thrown into the sea to be forgotten.

And here you learn to be a great witch. She first-hand, had taught you how to be a legilimens, as her first courtesan, she has taught you how to traverse the mind easily, to learn secrets, and how to use them to your advantage.

“The most powerful of witches and wizards can all be defeated by the secrets they hide.”

While the other courtesans were only taught surface-level legilimency, you were a natural. Not only can you do it nonverbally and wandlessly, but you can also communicate with others telepathically. Madame Blanche had opened you to all possibilities, and with that, she entrusted you with the highest position of being her right hand.

And your skill at legilimens always comes at night when you bed another clientele. And in the middle of pure ecstasy, they reveal the truth unwillingly. Here in the dimmed candlelight, you walked through the halls of their mind unlocking every door with a skeleton key of your abilities. No matter how many layers, or how many locks they keep, trust you could open it with ease. Secrets like marital affairs, financial debt, graft and corruption, illegitimate children, crimes, enemies, first love, their favorite color, the last thing they ate, their thoughts at that very moment… you can see and feel. An out-of-body experience, stripping you naked from yourself, from what you are and who you were. Here you forgot you were even breathing.

You didn’t realize you had been lying on the bed still for the last few minutes, the house elf, Bernadette, had been looking at you worriedly, and in her hand was your dressing robe, colors almost like the blinding light.

“Was the man harsh on you today, Miss?” She asked, placing the mulberry silk robe on your hand. You gave her a small smile and shook your head. The faint marks of rope were the clear sign of your lies, yet you were accustomed to it.

“It is alright. Run my bath for me?” With a wave of her hand, the bed took itself towards the laundry room and came in a small golden tub that fit your frame. Muttering a spell it filled the tub with bubbles and water, you stood before it before hitting it with a wave of your wand. The gramophone in the room suddenly erupted into soulful jazz music. With a scrub and a bar of soap ready at hand, Bernadette tried to assist you but you declined. Stepping foot into the warm bubbly bath.

“I would like a moment alone.” You waved your hand as soon as the words left your mouth, the house elf knew to leave you to your own devices. You were a grown woman, a woman who has been doing these for the last decade. And whenever you tried to look into your future, all you could see were the grand walls that painted your very eyes, the moving wallpaper depicting fields of various white flowers, you were stuck in Amour Délicat for the last moments of your life. This was the only thing you will ever know. You were indebted and grateful to Madame Blanche, and that led to your loyalty. She protects you and everyone in the Maison close. Outside these walls was uncertainty.

In the hot water, you submerged yourself trying to wake yourself up to the fact that this is your life. Yet when the warm glow of the city, fireworks erupted the skyline, muffled by the water you sat straight to peer at the noise. Without even looking, you knew families were in their own homes, enclosed with the scent of pastries and the warmth of their own fireplace. It was just a few minutes before New Year's Eve, and here you were working. Alone, staring into the distance, craving the sense of a warm home. 

Holding your knees close to your chest, you stared at the skyline as Muggles and Magical people alike celebrated the night with a bright display of fireworks. 

Unbeknown to you, Clarice, the receptionist had been preventing the members of the British Ministry of Magic from stepping foot towards the quarters an hour before the new year would start.

“You cannot go inside; this is a private and respectable property,” Clarice spoke, her accent rushing the words as panic littered her veins. Her arm at ready with her own wand. The lounge was filled with thick air as the British aurors pointed their wand at the girl, not understanding a word she shouted. 

Click-clack! Click-clack!

With every slow step, Madame Blanche descended the stairs. 

“And what do you English want? Here to close Amour Délicat? You don’t have the right.” Madame Blanche boasts, looking at the men below with her chin pointed upwards. Looking at them one by one, the Madame could not read their minds, the British aurors have been trained in occlumency. Remaining calm, she stood on the balcony, overlooking the whole crowd below.

“We were looking for one of your workers. I believe they have the answers to the disappearance of one of the assistant delegates of the British Department of the International Confederation of Wizards.” Torquil Travers claimed, holding a photograph of a man in his middle 30s-40s. 

Summoning the paper in the grasp of the Madame, she looked at the photograph intently, racking up all the lists of their clients. Without even showing hints of recognition, Madame had thrown the paper back into the hands of the aurors.

“I believe you must have a permit before we further your inquiries. If not, then leave.” Turning around, she waved a hand to open the large doors.

“We have it, signed and approved by your own Minister.” Stopping in her tracks, the auror walked up to the steps and held it right in front of the Madame’s face. Now a hint of annoyance was painted on her pointed brows.

“Come to my office, only I can accommodate two of you. Choose wisely.” Madame Blanche said in a cold tone, not even bothering to wait for aurors as she walked straight to the lift.

“Scamander! Come with me.” Travers could upon the young man, the older auror respected the young man’s abilities and thinking, after all, he was a respectable war hero.  

Stepping into the lift, the walls were decorated with moving painted white flowers, the madame touched the button to the highest floor, and the black lining of the lift showed its elegance. As the Aurors stood behind her, eyes darted across each other in nervousness. The Brits showed no sign of anxiety, even if that was far from the truth, the Madame held an air of regalness suffocating them with the scent of floral perfume. As soon as the doors of the lift parted for her, the room was quite the luxury and beauty with its eclectic interior, engulfed with knick-knacks from travels, moving statues, paintings from famous muggles, and the large glass pane showing the night sky. 

In the middle of the room was a velvet green chair, a large glass table, and a lone flower sitting in the golden vase.

“Sit.” She pointed toward the chair in front of her, while she remained standing encircling the room looking at the Englishman that disturbed her home. 

“Our clients value discreteness, we simply could not disclose it easily… yet since you presented me with a hand-written note by our minister I must oblige to your request. Then talk, what is it that you want?”

“We are looking for Charles Moore. He has been in charge of communications with the French Ministry as a part of assistant delegate for our Ministry, he asked to be assigned here after the Muggle World War. The day he was posted to return, he didn’t. And we believe that in his letters to his sister, he claimed to be…”

Madame Blanche raised her eyebrow at Torquil Travers waiting for him to spit it out.

“In love.” Theseus replied. “He claims that he has found the love of life here in Paris and was planning to buy off her indenture. Or so we believe.” 

Madame Blanche scoffed.

“There are many dames in Paris, and he chose to settle with a courtesan?” Madame Blanche laughed, making Travers find it humorous as well. In the keen eyes of Madame Blanche, he saw Theseus's brows turn into a frown before shifting back to biting his cheeks.

“Are you certain that it was in Amour Délicat?”

Theseus answered with a nod. 

There were three letters in total from Charles Moore to his sister. And for the past few days, Theseus had been assigned to look for the exact description of the building. He alone took the time of the day, looking at details of every establishment and brothel in Paris, from the world of the muggles to hidden alcoves of the French Wizarding World. After 2 days, he had seen the exact description of the magnificent-looking walls lined with silver and the sweet nauseating scent of flowers, that’s when he knew this was it.

First Letter:

Dearest Ange,

I believe I have found the love of my life! No one is ever as beautiful as her. No amount of theatrics on the show could ever take my eyes off of her. She sat there like a flower, waiting for me.

As soon as the play was over, I tried to approach her. Tell her to take my hand and run away with me. Oh, Ange! I never felt something like this. This must be what love is. Yet, my heart turned to pieces when I saw her taking the arm of another man, walking together side-by-side as they left the theater. I trailed behind them, and saw the most luxurious of buildings, sparkled with silver linings and flowers decorating its walls. Then I stopped and stared, and the man left her there. That’s when I realized what it was… I know this might sound ridiculous, but she is working in the red-light district and with that, no amount of apprehension could hinder me. I know you would flip the whole house upside down, but Ange this is love. I am certain of it. No amount of your denial could keep me away from this.

                                                                                                             From your darling brother, Charlie.

Second Letter: 

Dear Angelique, 

With the amount of your reply, I take that your silence was your approval. 

Today, I took liquid courage to go ahead and talk to her. But the only way was that I had to pay a fortune. I walked to the receptionist with high hopes, and with her assistance, she immediately gave me a room. With flowers in hand, I waited for her only to get my hopes up when another girl walked into the room. I was filled with disappointment. I asked the lady of the night for the description of my love, and she claimed that she was part of the ‘bouquet de blanc’. First-time patrons' pocket money is not enough to gain an audience. And me being an assistant could only lead me to certain places, yet I will persevere. 

 Give me a few more days and I’ll be able to, no matter the cost.

                                                                                                             From your brother, Charles.

Last Letter:

To my Darling Sister,

I hope this letter finds you well, I could not disclose to the ministry the cost of my expenses… but I found another way. Worry no more. Today, I will finally be able to talk to her.

The day that I return home is when she is with me.

                                                                                                             From your loving brother.

Placing the letters right in front of the Madame of the house, with a lifted finger her smile faded into a scowl. Someone from the inside was spreading information about her courtesans; Bouquet de Blanc was valued in secrecy. This was a catalog of their courtesans that had regular high-paying patrons, and this was not open for viewing so easily. Patrons that were deemed valuable to her and her Maison close were accommodated, the pure-blooded noble families, higher ranking officials, royalty even. And someone from the lower ranks of her courtesans had their tongue quite willingly.

Waving her wand, she summoned a large logbook. There inside was information such as names, professions, ages, nationalities, and ranks of their patrons, of course, the courtesan they were assigned to. Whispering the name Charles Moore, it skimmed through the pages with ease, and there in bold letters was the name of the auror the Brits were looking for. Travers tried to peer at the other listed names, his curiosity taking the best of him.

“Curiosity is the lust of the mind, Mr. Travers. Why don’t you sit still, and I’ll call upon her.”

Closing the book harshly, Madame called upon Bernadette. Apparating next to her mistress, Madame Blanche whispered to call the girl. Nodding the house elf disappeared within a blink of an eye. Behind them, the elevator dinged, while the Madame tapped on the book with carefully manicured nails. 

“It is New Year’s Eve; would you like to avail of our services? It can easily be arranged. I know it’s a long journey and your work for your ministry is greatly appreciated, it wouldn’t hurt to take the night off— to indulge yourself in your sensual desires.” 

The older man shifted in his seat uncomfortably. Suddenly they were interrupted when the elevator doors dinged, signaling the arrival of the courtesan. Turning around a slender figure stepped foot in the room, She wore a long flowing green nightgown.

“Come in here and greet the Brits, Maeve. They would like to talk to you about Charles Moore.” Madame Blanche pointed to the aurors in front of her, the back of the courtesan’s neck grew in a cold sweat.

“I–I do not understand Madame Blanche. I didn’t do anything wrong! The man asked– and I swore that was the last of it, I told him what he wanted to hear.” The girl's pleading cries fell on deaf ears as the aurors could not understand what she was crying about. Theseus' eyes darted between Madame Blanche and the girl’s tear-stricken face. While Torquil Travers stood to show his authority, ready to apprehend the girl.

Within just a few seconds, Madame Blanche had already seen the inner linings of the girl’s mind. The fear registered in her thoughts while she traversed doors upon doors to look for the memories of the missing delegate, and right there she found what she was seeking.

In just a few quick strides, Madame Blanche towered over the girl with a look of disdain painted on her red lips. The old mistress, jaw held tightly as she wiped the tears of the girl. Only to hold the young girl’s face tightly, her long nails pierced through the delicate skin while she stared straight down into the young woman’s eyes with an intense look, unblinking. 

“You may leave, pack your bags, and look for work elsewhere. I do not take it kindly to those willing to open their mouths willingly to my secrets. Bernadette, escort her out of here. I have found what I’m looking for.” 

The girl refused as the house elf dragged the wailing girl back to the elevator, screams of ‘no’ echoed through the walls. 

Travers, who was far too confused, shouted for the house elf to stop as the girl was a key witness. Even pointed his wand threateningly at the old mistress, ready to cast a stunning spell within the tips of his lips. The madame disarms him with a flick of her wand, his wand went flying right off his grasp and cluttered on the hardwood floor. Madame shook her head no when the auror Travers tried to pick it up. 

“You’re a legilimens.” Theseus muttered; Madame Blanche turned around to face the man giving them a tight-lipped smile and nodded. 

“Would you like to view the girl’s memory and be done with it? I need to run my business after all.” Offering to perform legilimency to project the memories to the aurors, they declined. They knew not to, after all, they too have secrets that protect their ministry. 

“We decline. We, Aurors value our minds and do not open them so willingly.” Travers stated, still apprehensive of Madame Blanche. “But the girl needs to be questioned, we have to have her testimonials as to Moore’s disappearance.”

“Then you must trust my word because I too have my secrets to keep. That girl didn’t kill or cause his disappearance. He came in here one night, to question about the catalog of my courtesans and that was it–”

Cutting off the handler of the brothel, Theseus insisted; “Charles Moore stated in his letters about a ‘bouquet de blanc’. I hope that might ring a bell, after browsing through your catalog in the lobby earlier. I couldn’t find traces of this list, is this a secret that you are hiding from the ministry?” 

Madame Blanche’s eyes narrowed at the young auror; her piercing ice-blue eyes almost looked like they could kill.

“No, of course not. My bouquet de blanc is the Amour Délicat trade secrets. I could not easily say it out loud for fear of our competitors copying what I built from the ground up. If you would like to browse that catalog, then let me— although I must say, we do not easily offer our services freely.” Walking towards a dark oak cabinet grabbing a large book with golden linings. Placing right back at the table, Madame Blanche flipped through the pages with images of different courtesans, and right on its last page was a picture of you. 

“I believe she is the one he is asking for.” She pointed with a manicured finger, right before your name was a title given to you. 

Queen of the Night; Night-blooming Cereus

You were smiling, looking right at the onlooker like it was destined. While others bashfully hid their eyes, sultry looking to get admirers, you didn’t need to do that. You had your charm, something that allures the onlookers to choose you. Madame Blanche tried to flip the page to show them another photograph of you leaving nothing to the imagination to the spectator, but Theseus stopped her.

“I think that is enough, could you summon her to talk to us.” Theseus declared with a cough, standing up to close the book and stepping right in front of Travers' line of sight. “Please.”

Madame Blanche smiled, this time it was far different. “I believe your permit only limited you to talk to one of the key witnesses… And since Mr. Moore was not a benefactor of bouquet de blanc, I know because I am the only bookkeeper of that catalog… you must pay a hefty price.”

Now, the Aurors were stuck in the beginning, only pieces of blocked paths. If Charles Moore was not on the list of high-ranking patrons, then they could only comply with the demands of the authority and right now it wasn’t them who was holding the winning cards. When Travers' authority gets threatened, he scoffs, ready to drag Theseus out of the old woman. Madame Blanche truly was a businesswoman, she played them a fool. Whether they get out of the establishment empty-handed, or with empty wallets was their choice. They could simply not arrest the old woman, this was out of their jurisdiction, they were out of their element and far from their own country, and they simply couldn’t do whatever they wanted. 

“Either you pay full price, or you will tell me why such a simple assistant is being hunted down by the best Aurors of the British Ministry. Pick your price.” She sat arms folded right in front of her face, holding her chin while she grinned at the standing men.

Within a minute of no one budging, Travers' patience wavered. With a deep sigh, he faltered. With one last glance at Theseus, he held his head low. 

“Charles Moore stole 4,000 galleons. We believe that he tried to buy her indenture and convince her to come to London with him.” Travers confessed. That was the half-truth, Theseus’ senior took out the part that it was from the subsidy for international affairs. And the way he stole it was undetected like he had some insiders to help him, they were now battling an unseen threat. They only noticed it was missing after 3 months, when Theseus looked at the accounts and noticed that something was awry.

Madame Blanche started laughing, “He believes he can buy off her indenture for 4,000 galleons. Oh, what a joke! That’ll only cost him half an hour at most”

When Madame Blanche stopped laughing, she pointed back to the lift doors. “Head to the floor below. I’ll tell her I sent you.” The aurors nodded and headed to leave only to be held when the Madame halted them to stop.

“You endanger my investment; I’d rather you stay here than be near one of my priceless courtesans.” She stated, pointing at the older auror. Theseus can see his senior jaw tightened, and the veins on his neck grew red in anger. Not only was the older auror disarmed, but he was also being held under surveillance in fear that he might endanger you, now his patience and authority wavered on thin ice, and his eyes clouded with anger.

“I’ll talk to her and I’ll find what we need.” Theseus whispered as soon as he stepped foot in the lift. The doors closed slowly; he saw Madame Blanche’s eyes watching the other auror like a hawk. 

When the doors for the lift opened, what greeted him was a vast hall painted like the night sky. With a slight shift of his eyes, he can see the tiny freckles of stars that decorated a lone white door. Unlike the outside of the establishment, this seemed out of place with the flower motifs of Amour Délicat. Here he can feel the cold breeze of the winter night. Knocking on the white door, he called out to the name he had seen written on the catalog. 

You who had been preoccupied with your thoughts; wishing to know the feeling of stepping out of your body, floating, freely, like the ghosts that linger down the dark alleys. Right outside the window, the streets erupted in cheers as they all greeted each other another happy new year. Drinking down the champagne that was given to you by a patron, noting a taste of toast and coffee and a subtle spice drowning out all your other senses. When the fireworks ended, you lay there looking at the skylight as the only glow of the light left was the moonlight.

A subtle knock started you as you let Bernadette waltz her way in. Her company and the cup of tea are greatly appreciated when your water has now gone cold. But instead of the house elf, what replaced her was someone far taller than her; there he stood only the silhouette of his slender frame seen. 

Theseus didn’t expect what he saw, a lone woman basking in the golden tub, a melancholy look written in her eyes.

Sad. You looked sad. 

The only sound that could be heard was the faint hum of the gramophone across the room and the muffled cheers that erupted right behind the glass windows. With the faint sparkle of light, you saw a slight frown on his face. Realizing your predicament, you went back to wearing the mask when you were at work.

“Would you like me to keep you company?” You asked, turning around delicately, careful not to show another ounce of skin. Tilting your head to one side and smiling at him, the same one he has seen in the photograph earlier.

When Theseus realized what you were implying, he held his hand and shook his head, showing you a metal badge indicating the words ‘auror’. You had a fair share of French aurors that came to you for a night, often playing the role of the captive and captor. What a lack of imagination, if this is the role he wants to play then so be it.

“You would like to play that role? I, the convict, and you the detainer. Would you like that darling?” You asked, ready to approach him when he realized what was happening, he turned around not to face your naked form. The tips of his ears went red in embarrassment. 

“I didn’t come here for your service; I was sent here by Madame Blanche to question you. My name is Theseus Scamander, I was sent by the British Ministry of Magic.” He announced. 

Ahh… A British Auror. You hummed and stood to grab the white robe and placed it on your body. Hearing the sound of faint footsteps, Theseus waited until you gave him a signal. 

“I see… talk I don’t have all night to entertain you.” This time you put your weight and one foot, crossing your arms across your chest. Your hand laid steady on your wand.

Turning around, you pointed toward the chair that sat across from you, and he agreed to your request. As soon as he did, you went and grabbed the champagne you had been drinking earlier and procured another glass to pour him one. Placing it next to him, you stood in front of him and drank yours, waiting as he did too. Theseus eyed it suspiciously, but you continued to drink it on your own accord.

“A gift… something lighter than the fire whiskey.” You replied as you down the glass in one gulp. He nodded and carefully took a sip of his. You sat in front of him and grabbed the bottle to pour more down into your glass.

When he exhaled in satisfaction, you knew it tasted amazing. Theseus knew what you were doing, trying to lower his guard, not sitting to show you were in control, and intoxicating him to vulnerability. Yet, he remained calm, showing no signs of threat to you. If Madame Blanche was a legilimens, there was a high chance you were too, all he needed to do was throw you off his scent.

And just like he had predicted, right at the moment you tried to pry his mind. A knot on your brow formed when you stared intently at him.

‘You looked sad.’ Those were the thoughts that circled his mind, like a mantra. You can feel it. Feel him. It made you nauseous, the bile in your throat rose as his thoughts engraved into yours. No one had looked at you and thought you were sad; it was always beautiful. Sadness and you were never to be put in a sentence, and when his thoughts did it terrified you. 

To be seen broken makes you fear. To be seen feeling sadness made the feeling of being stripped naked for the whole world to see. All your life, you had built these walls that made you stand on your own two feet. The ache in your mind becomes unbearable, you weren’t beautiful… underneath all the expensive clothes, and pearls that glittered your skin— you are crooked, battered with bruises, wrecked by time, your skin filthy with sin, you were a tragedy… a rotten work.

“Stop.” With gritted teeth, you fail to look at his eyes and his mind. A slip of the tongue made you realize what you had said out loud, that was all Theseus needed to know that you too are a legilimens. “State your purposes.”

Right in the pockets of his coat was the photograph of Charles Moore, he carefully placed it on the table in front of him waiting for you to pick it up.

“Do you recognize him?” He placed the picture within your line of sight. Pausing he tried to scope for your reaction. “It’s Charles Moore, an assistant delegate of the British Department of the International Confederation of Wizards.”

“He has been missing for months and the last contact we had from him was a letter to his sister, trying to have an audience with you.” 

Your eyes examined Moore’s photograph. And minutes passed your silence almost became too heavy to Theseus's dislike, but he needed to thread your waters carefully, you were already agitated for unknown reasons.

“I believe I do not know who this person is.” You smiled and stared at Theseus, the first time you met his eyes after your outburst earlier.

He pointed out another slip of your strong facade right at its mark. “Yet you do not deny that you do recognize him.” 

“Maybe I do… Maybe I don’t. It is possible he is one of my long lists of admirers, doesn’t erase the fact that I do not know him at all.” 

“I highly doubt that. You’re a legilimens, and I am not; that is true. I need to know if you have met with him once, and if you are proven to be telling the truth then I would leave this room. But I can tell you’re lying. Skilled legilimens can procure memories into another person, and all I needed was the time and date, any people that were trailing him. Your truth is all I need.” He proposes.

“Or would you rather we do this the hard way? The choice is yours.” He leaned forward as his head rested on his knuckles.

“You give me the illusion of free choice when all you want is to pry my mind. Is there something you are not saying, Mister Scamander? Tell me the truth, what is in it for you? What would you get to look into the inner workings of my mind? You expect me to believe that you honestly want nothing else? Just my memory? I hardly doubt that.” Challenging his proposition, you leaned forward as your palms hit the glass table harshly with a loud slap, not before rebutting his claims. “Surely it could not be just you are looking for a testament, you wouldn’t work hard on that, all you needed is a vial of the strongest veritaserum and it would be done. Then why are you pushing hard to look into my mind?”

“You play a cruel game of trust.” He sighed, making you scoff. “Mr. Moore had said in his letters about how he will get the currency to meet you, his means to getting it is unsaid. And that was a clear sign that he needed someone to work with him to get that from a subsidiary of international affairs, you are simply a madman to be able to work alone. And all I need is— you. All I need is you.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. 

“I need you to work with me. You knew better than just mere rumors, you knew everyone and could see their thoughts.”

Working with the British Ministry, consider it treason. Yet, you never were loyal to this land. Your loyalty lies elsewhere, it stays to those who have given you a sense of protection. Your loyalty is within Madame Blanche’s hands. Hands that remained choking you to stay. 

Still, you let Mr. Scamander entertain you with his words.

“It would have to take you a valuable price, Mr. Scamander. I am an expensive woman, yet, I am considerate. Give me leverage and I will give you what you want.” That’s when he stopped and stared at the photo, avoiding any eye contact. “What could you possibly offer Mr. Scamander, tell me.”

You grinned as you took a sip at the champagne, just like a war, both of you had been disarming and hurting each other for the kill. Breaking down every barrier with a small slip-up of each other, both of you were professionals at your trades. He is an Auror, he knows how to spot lies and negotiate, give you the feeling of support to make you break down your armor. Meanwhile, you pride yourself on being a great liar, you know what to say to appear compliant, and you know how to adapt and play the games to your tide. Every word and sentence uttered until one of you would lose the battle of wits, one slip and the fallen would crash and burn.

Leaning back you gave him a smile, your wand procuring a cigarette that lay on the table. Placing it gently on your lips, the tip of your wand lit up a flame. With a deep inhale, you knew you were already winning the battle. You didn’t need to look into his mind, to know that he was fighting a losing war. His occlumency was far useless when the knot on his forehead and the jaunt of his chin told you he was conflicted.

“I have been offered riches that could fill De Nile, clothes that were woven from the rarest of silks, jewels that shone brighter than the sun, houses that housed thousands of rooms, paintings of the most beautiful landscapes, songs and sonnets about my beauty, the most exotics of creatures that lay hidden within the government’s grasp… Pray tell, what could a simple auror like you have that can overthrow all those proposals?”

He was silent, expression never changing. And no matter how hard you try to pry to look into his mind, it remains still like he is right in front of you. 

“Safety.” Your smile faltered. “I offer you safety.” 

You blinked and blinked. Trying hard not to show that your jaw was slack in silence; the timeliness of the gramophone hitting its ending notes was fitting. His words lay heavy on your mind.

Amour Délicat had always offered you protection, but never safety. Safety was a word often associated with emotional aspects that were never visible in your job, safety offered you the sense of never needing to keep your secrets in this line of work or needing not to utter a word that would be your downfall in these walls. Protection kept you free and sheltered from physical aspects and threats, like the two guards that trailed you whenever you needed to do outside work, or the walls that shielded you from the rain. Safety is a foreign word, way too foreign that it burns you with curiosity. A thrill you never experience on a silver platter. It gives you hope— and hope gives you greed. A greed that surpasses all material things known to man. You want to take it all, consume your being until all is left is the safety that you wanted, the safety of being able to walk free, to run away, the security of not needing to know that this is the place where you would meet your demise. 

You knew how Madame Blanche worked, she took pride in knowing secrets and that is her leverage. And right now Madame Blanche would be none the wiser when you will take his deal. And there is one thing in the world that the Madame hated, and it is to not know anything at all. 

“Give me your hand.”

“What?” 

You held your hand to him and stood up, apprehensive he stood up as well taking your hand in his. Looking up into his eyes, you called upon the house elf. Bernadette immediately appeared right beside you.

“Don’t promise me empty words.”

“I won’t.”

“Then you wouldn’t mind if we made an unbreakable vow.”

Your hold on his palm tightens, only to travel into his wrist. Without breaking eye contact you give him a minute to decide what his choice would be. Does he trust you enough to do it at the expense of his life, or would he rather fear being the one to dictate his actions?

His palm pressed tightly into your wrists, not like the rough hands that occupied your wrists hours ago, his hold was gentle, not imposing. Nodding at Bernadette, a thin tongue of flame issued at the tips of the house elf's fingertips and wound its way around both your and Theseus’ hands. It felt like a burning wire, keeping your skin aflame.

“Will you, Theseus Scamander, promise to provide my safety, as he and I work together?”

“I will.”

“Will you, abide by our oath, to only tell the truth to me?”

“I will.”

a/n: dialogue that is formatted like this “dialogue” is in French. i tried hard to make it one-shot i really did, buT I SIMPLY CANT SO HERE I GIVE YOU WORLD BUILDING AND MORE LORE UPON LORE ON THIS FIC.

[lamarseillasie]

"Nothing out of the ordinary has happened here, and it is to be hoped that the evil-doers will not succeed in their maneuvers this time. Panic terror is gripping many minds, and the crowds at the bakers' are considerable. Marat's death will probably be useful to the Republic because of the circumstances surrounding it. It's a cy-devant from Caen, deliberately sent by Barbaroux and other scoundrels, addressed first to a member of the right wing in Paris, that fanatic Duperrey who twice drew the saber in the Assembly and repeatedly threatened Marat. We have indicted him as an accomplice to the assassination. You will see the details of this affair in the newspapers, and it will not be difficult for you to judge the men we were dealing with. The Minister of the Interior had, it seems, been singled out for the dagger of this monstrous woman who brought Marat down under her blows; Danton and Maximilien are still threatened; one remarkable thing is the means this infernal female used to gain access to our colleague's home. While Marat was being painted as a monster, in such a terrible way that the whole of France was fooled into believing that there was no cannibal comparable to that citizen, that woman nevertheless begged for his commiseration by writing to him: "It's enough to be unhappy to be heard". This circumstance is well suited to demaratizing Marat and opening the eyes of those who see us as bloodthirsty men. You should know that Marat lived like a Spartan and gave everything he had to those who came to him. On several occasions he said to me and my colleagues: "I can no longer satisfy the wretched crowd that comes to me, I will send some of them to you", and he did so on many times. Judge our political situation, a situation brought about by slander. Ardent but unenlightened patriots are currently agreeing with the conspirators to Pantheonize Marat. Such are the circumstances, that this proposal may eternalize the calumnies, that the hatred which seems to abandon a corpse will attach itself to Marat in the grave, and that the system of the enemies of liberty will resume with greater force than if our colleague were still among us. The most astute observer must be astonished that the most terrible weapon of the enemies of liberty is slander, and must groan at the ignorance and credulity of a people who constantly disregard it. A slander, no matter how absurd, cannot be erased, and Paris, which sees its most ardent defenders slaughtered and is content to shed tears over their graves, will still have to defend itself for centuries to come against its detractors, while Evreux, Caen, Lyon and Marseille will enjoy an almost immortal glory, because these cities will have the most skilful of conspirators and the most wicked of men as their defenders."

Augustin Robespierre in a letter to Antoine-Joseph Buissart, July 15th, 1793. From Maximilien et Augustin Robespierre, Correspondance recueillie et publiée par M. Georges Michon [p. 174-175].

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

Frev Friendships — Robespierre and Couthon 

…Moreover, don’t forget to remind me of the memory of Lacoste and Couthon. Robespierre in a letter to Maurice Duplay, October 16 1791, while away on a leave in Arras.Couthon, Lacoste and Pétion are the only of his friends that he mentions in the letter. Considering Couthon came to Paris after being elected for the Legislative Assembly on September 9 1791, while Robespierre was away from the capital between October 14 and November 28, the two must have befriended each other quite rapidly. In a letter dated September 29 1791, Couthon reveals that he has moved into the house of one M. Girot on Rue Saint-Honoré (the same street where Robespierre lodged), and according to Robespierre (1935) by J.M Thompson, the Almanach royal for 1792 gives Couthon’s address as 343 Rue Saint-Honoré. So the proximity between their lodgings might have been a contributing factor.

My friend, I anxiously await news of your (votre) health. Here, we are closing in on the greatest events. Yesterday the Assembly absolved La Fayette; the indignant people pursued some deputies at the end of the session. Today is the day indicated by a decree for the discussion of the forfeiture of Louis XVI. It is believed that this matter will be further delayed by some incident. However, the fermentation is at its height, and everything seems to presage for this very night the greatest commotion in Paris. We have arrived at the outcome of the constitutional drama. The Revolution will take a faster course, if it does not sink into military and dictatorial despotism. In the situation we are in, it is impossible for the friends of liberty to foresee and direct events. The destiny of France seems to leave it to intrigue and chance. What can reassure us is the strength of the public spirit in Paris and in many departments, it is the justice of our cause. The sections of Paris show an energy and wisdom worthy of serving as models for the rest of the state. We miss you. May you soon return to your homeland and we await with equal impatience your return and your recovery.  Robespierre in a letter to Couthon, August 9 1792 (incorrectly dated July 20 1792 in the correspondence)

I saw [Couthon] towards the last days of the Legislative Assembly; he appeared to me to be in a mood similar to mine; enemy of the anarchists and of the authors of the massacres of the first days of September, enemy of Marat and Robespierre; he constantly declaimed against them. Supplément aux crimes des anciens comités de gouvernement, avec l'histoire des conspirations du 10 mars, des 31 mai et 2 juin 1793, et de celles qui les ont précédées, et tableau de la conduite politique d'un représentant du peuple mis hors la loi (1794) by Jacques-Antoine Dulaure.

Couthon, whose infirmities give a new value to his patriotism… […] Lettres de Maximilien Robespierre à ses commettans, number 1 (September-October 1792)

During the first three months of the session of the National Convention, the members of the Puy-de-Dome deputation fraternized and dined together once a week. Couthon then never ceased to pour out invectives against Robespierre. Once I told him that I thought Robespierre an intriguer. ”So you call him an intriguer,” he answered me with vivacity, ”You are too nice, I regard him as a great scroundel.” I heard him, in the presence of several of my colleagues, one day when the deputation was summoned to his house, say: ”I no longer want to live in the same house as Robespierre, I am not safe there; every day we see a dozen cutthroats coming up to his house to whom he gives dinner. I do not know how he managed to meet these expenses before being elected to the Convention, while my allowances are barely enough for me to live with my family.” He often applauded the fact that the entire deputation professed the same principles, and that, consequently, we would always be united in heart and mind. This was Couthon's opinion at the time, and he held to it until the constitutional committee was formed. He had the ambition to be a member; he becomes furious at not being inclined to it. This was the time when Couthon changed his opinion, abandoned his conscience to indulge in his passions. Supplément aux crimes des anciens comités de gouvernement, avec l'histoire des conspirations du 10 mars, des 31 mai et 2 juin 1793, et de celles qui les ont précédées, et tableau de la conduite politique d'un représentant du peuple mis hors la loi (1794) by Jacques-Antoine Dulaure. Dulaure’s claim that Couthon for a time lived in the same house as Robespierre is confirmed by l’Almanach national, an II (cited in Paris révolutionnaire: Vieilles maisons, vieux papiers (1906) by Georges Lênotre) as well as by a letter dated October 4 1792 Couthon wrote to Roland from Rue Saint-Honoré n. 366 (Robespierre’s address) asking for rooms in the Tuileries, saying that he must move out of the house within eight days (Roland responded with a negative answer four days later). When exactly he moved in is however harder to pinpoint. According to Robespierre (1935) by J.M Thompson, the Almanach royal for 1792 still gives Couthon’s address as 343, not 366, rue St. Honoré, and in the article The Evolution of a Terrorist: Georges Auguste Couthon (1930) Geoffrey Bruun writes that Couthon moved to Cour de Manège 97 in 1792. It can therefore be concluded that Couthon’s stay on Rue Saint-Honoré n. 366 was most likely rather short. Couthon’s motivation for moving out, aside from Dulaure’s claim that he disliked Robespierre, could also be related to the fact Robespierre’s brother and sister moved in with the Duplays shortly after he wrote the letter to Roland.

The Lamenths and Pétion in the early days, quite rarely Legendre, Merlin de Thionville and Fouché, often Taschereau, Desmoulins and Teault, always Lebas, Saint-Just, David, Couthon and Buonarotti. The elderly Élisabeth Le Bas on visitors to the Duplays during the revolution

Robespierre notes this expression: “for fear that Couthon’s speech will not be heard.” Couthon will be heard, he said, and I maintain that the representative assembly has no right to stifle his voice any more than that of anyone else, because the Convention is not a power above the rights of its constituents who have invested every deputy with the sacred right to express their wish, and one could only obstruct this by an attack against liberty, and by trampling on national sovereignty. Robespierre takes this opportunity to recall the maneuvers of a large party of the Convention, to violate this sacred right that each member has to make his voice heard; and we see, he says, this game of intrigue played out every day with incredible modesty. In the Constituent and Legislative Assemblies, which despite their perversity, at least knew how to respect the freedom of opinions, Couthon's patriotism, which his infirmities make more interesting, never served the most perverse men as a pretext to stifle his voice. Robespierre therefore invites us to come out strongly against this new system of villainy, and to never allow a deputy to ever be deprived of the ability to express his opinion. He ends by supporting the impression of Couthon's speech; it is put to the vote and adopted. Robespierre makes sure the Jacobins print one of Couthon’s speeches regarding the trial of the king, after protests that they ought to wait until it’s been pronounced at the Convention as well, January 6 1793

If you want, and it would be a crime to doubt it, to preserve the liberty, unity and indivisibility of the Republic, you cannot hesitate to adopt Couthon's proposal [to issue a proclamation that the Insurrection of May 31 saved liberty] at once. To begin a discussion on this question would be to allow the conspirators to come to this rostrum to make new declarations against Paris, with their ordinary perfidy. Robespierre at the Convention June 13 1793

The proposal [to have Robespierre enter the Committee of Public Safety] was made to the committee by Couthon and Saint-Just. To ask was to obtain, for a refusal would have been a sort of accusation, and it was necessary to avoid any split during that winter which was inaugurated in such a sinister manner. The committee agreed to his admission, and Robespierre was proposed. Memoirs Of Bertrand Barère (1896) volume 2, page 96-97. Couthon was elected to the Committee of Public Safety on June 10 1793, Robespierre on July 27 1793. In his memoirs, Barère pushes the thermidorian idea that the two plus Saint-Just formed a ”triumvirate” within the committee. On page 146 of the same volume he nevertheless also writes that Robespierre and Saint-Just rarely came to the committee, instead working together in a private office.

Robespierre, Saint-Just and Couthon were inseparable. The first two had a dark and duplicitous character; they pushed away with a kind of disdainful pride any familiarity or affectionate relationship with their colleagues. The third, a legless man with a pale appearance, affected good-nature, but was no less perfidious than the other two. All three of them had a cold heart, without pity, they interacted only with each other, holding mysterious meetings outside, having a large number of protégés and agents, impenetrable in their designs. Révélations sur le Comité de salut public (1830) by Prieur-Duvernois. Later in the revelations, Prieur nevertheless also writes that ”Couthon was never difficult on the Committee; there was no altercation until the day before 9 Thermidor, when the moment to throw away the mask had arrived.”

The National Convention, citizens colleagues, witnessed with pleasure your entry into Lyon. But its joy could not be complete when it saw that you at the first movements yielded to a sensibility way too unpolitical. You seemed to abandon themselves to a people who flatter the victors, and the manner in which you speak of such a large number of traitors, of the punishment of a very few and the departure of almost all, have alarmed the patriots who are indignant at seeing so many scoundrels escaping through a gap and going to Lozère and mainly Toulon. We therefore won’t congratulate you on your successes before you have fulfilled all that you owe to your country. Republics are demanding; there is national recognition only for those who fully deserve it. We send you the decree that the Convention issued this morning on the report of the Committee. It has proportioned the vigor of its measures to your first reports. It will never remain below what the Republic and liberty expect. Beware above all of the perfidious policy of the Muscadins and the hypocritical Federalists, who raise the standard of the Republic when it is ready to punish them, and who continue to conspire against it when the danger has passed. It was that of the Bordelais, of the Marseillais, of all the counter-revolutionaries of the South. This is the most dangerous stumbling block of our freedom. The first duty of the representatives of the people is to discover it and avoid it. We must unmask the traitors and strike them without pity. These principles alone, adopted by the National Convention, can save the country. These principals are also yours; follow them; listen only to your own energy, and carry out with inexorable severity the salutary decrees which we address to you.  Committee of Public Safety decree to the representatives in the newly entered Lyon, among them Couthon, written by Robespierre on October 12 1793. Couthon had left Paris for a mission to the army of the Alpes already on August 21 1793.

Send Bô. Montaut, recall the others, except Couthon and Maignet. Notebook note written by Robespierre sometime before October 19 1793, when a CPS decree tasked Bô with going to the army of Ardennes.

…Farewell, my friend, embrace Robespierre, Hérault and our other good friends for me. Couthon in a letter to Saint-Just, October 20 1793, while on mission in Lyon. Couthon was called back to Paris on November 23.

[Collot] has been strongly denounced for his conduct in Lyon, after the recapture of that city. But I was witness to the fact that he only accepted this mission with the greatest reluctance, and that Robespierre skillfully employed the strongest solicitations to persuade him to do so, alleging that he alone was capable of combining justice with the necessary firmness, that Couthon had become moved on the scene and cried like a woman; finally a host of reasons to highlight the importance of exemplary punishment against the rebels of this unfortunate city. Révélations sur le Comité de salut public (1830) by Prieur-Duvernois. While Prieur’s testimomy is written long after the fact and therefore deserves to get treated with some caution, the claims he makes here are to an extent collaborated by a letter from Collot to Robespierre dated November 23 1793, where he claims it was ”on your (ton) invitation” he went to Lyon.

Couthon proposes that the Society take care of "drafting the indictment of all kings", and that it for this purpose appoints commissioners responsible for collecting the particular crimes of tyrants. This proposal, warmly applauded, is adopted. On Momoro's motion, the Society appoints Robespierre, Billaud-Varennes, Couthon, Collot d'Herbois and Lavicomterie as commissioners. Jacobin club, January 21 1794

…Yesterday, Robespierre held a very eloquent speech on our political situation. As soon as this speech has been printed, I will send it to you, it deserves to get read. Couthon in a letter dated February 6 1794, regarding Robespierre’s speech On Political Morality, held the day before.

Couthon and Robespierre enter the hall; all the members and citizens in the tribunes demonstrate through their applause the satisfaction of seeing these two patriots again.  Journal de la Montagne describing a triumphant entrance to the Jacobin club made by Couthon and Robespierre on March 13 1794, after both had been ill for a few weeks.

“In the absence of my brother,” said Mlle Robespierre to Gaillard, would you like to try to see Couthon? He prides himself on being good for me, I will ask him to receive you, he will not refuse me, I will precede you by a quarter of an hour, he will give the order to let you in and we will exit together.” Gaillard gratefully accepts, takes the address of Couthon who lived at n. 97 of the Cour du Manège, today rue de Rivoli, near rue du 29 Juilliet, and the next morning arrives at the indicated time. Couthon, whose face was truly angelic, wore a white dressing gown. A child of five or six years old, beautiful as Love, was between his father's legs; he had a young white rabbit in his arms which he was feeding alfalfa. Mme Couthon and Mlle Robespierre stood in the embrasure of a window overlooking the Tuileries.

“You are,” said Couthon to Gaillard, a friend of Mlle Robespierre, you therefore have every kind of right to my interest, tell me, citizen, how can I be of use to you?” [Gaillard then goes on to explain his errand to Couthon] “Citizen,” continues Gaillard, with great emotion, you are convinced that the signatures of these addresses have not committed a crime, you are all-powerful in the Committee of Public Safety where your opinion always prevails. Today, seventy unfortunate people are being led to the scaffold, their condemnation based on nothing other than the signing of these addresses…”

Couthon's face changed, he suddenly takes on the tiger's mask, makes a movement to grab the bell pull... Mlle Robespierre rushes at him to stop him (he was paralyzed from the legs down), turns towards Gaillard and says to him: “Save yourself!” In the confusion into which all this throws him, Gaillard takes Couthon's hat, she notices it, warns him, he runs across the apartment and reaches the stairs. He had barely gone down eight or ten steps when he heard Mlle Robespierre shouting to him: “Go and wait for me at the Orangerie.” […] [Gaillard] has barely gone down into the courtyard of the Orangerie when he goes back up onto the terrace, looking anxiously to see if his good angel was arriving. As soon as he sees her, he runs towards her, loudly asking her five or six questions at the same time without paying attention to the crowd around them. Mlle Robespierre, calmer, tells him in a low voice that she will answer him when they have reached the Place de la Révolution.

“Explain to me, please,” said Gaillard to Mlle Robespierre as soon as they were offshore, ”your haste to tell me to take flight flee and why you held back Couthon in his chair?”

“You were fooled, my dear monsieur, by the profound hypocrisy of Couthon, I was completely fooled myself; I believed your judges saved and you forever at peace like all the signatories of these addresses to Louis XVI... Couthon only showed himself to be so good-natured in order to get to know the depths of your thoughts, you fell into his trap, I could not have avoided it more than you. Your bloody and so justly deserved reproach regarding the 63 victims of today struck in the hearth, my presence, even my confidence could not have stopped his vengeance. The members of the Committee of Public Safety each have five or six men at home who are resolute at their command, because they are constantly trembling. Had he reached the bell pull, this very afternoon you would have been placed in the tumbril alongside the 63 unfortunate people you wanted to save... Fortunately, I succeeded in making him ashamed of the crime he was going to commit by immolating a friend that I had brought to his house... Will he keep his word to me? I followed your conversation very attentively, you did not say a word from which Couthon could conclude that you do not live in Paris... Return home quickly, do not follow the ordinary route out of fear that, remembering the name of the city where your judges were to sit, he sends for men to follow you on the road to Melun.”  La Révolution, la Terreur, le Directoire 1791-1799: d’après les mémoires de Gaillard (1908) page 268-273. Anecdote described as taking place in May 1794. Evidence Couthon had contacts with not only Robespierre, but his sister as well. If the dynamics between the three changed after this incident is however something the anecdote leaves unknown…

Is it not known to all citizens since the sessions of 12 and 13 Fructidor, that the decree of 22 Prairial was the secret work of Robespierre and Couthon, that it never, in defiance of all customs and all rights, was discussed or communicated to the Committee of Public Safety? No, such a draft would never have been passed by the committee had it been brought before it. […] At the morning session of 22 floréal [sic, it clearly means prairial], Billaud-Varennes openly accused Robespierre, as soon as he entered the committee, and reproached him and Couthon for alone having brought to the Convention the abominable decree which frightened the patriots. It is contrary, he said, to all the principles and to the constant progress of the committee to present a draft of a decree without first communicating it to the committee. Robespierre replied coldly that, having trusted each other up to this point in the committee, he had thought he could act alone with Couthon. The members of the committee replied that we have never acted in isolation, especially for serious matters, and that this decree was too important to be passed in this way without the will of the committee. The day when a member of the committee, adds Billaud, allows himself to present a decree to the Convention alone, there is no longer any freedom, but the will of a single person to propose legislation.  Réponse des membres des deux anciens comités de salut public et de sûreté générale… (1795) by Bertrand Barère, Billaud-Varennes, Collot d’Herbois and Alexis Vadier. It is unclear if Robespierre and Couthon really were alone in having drafted and/or supported the Law of 22 Prairial. The idea that they were was also lifted by Prieur-Duvernois in his Révélations sur le Comité de salut public (he claims Saint-Just was also in on it), Fouquier-Tinville in his Requisitoires de Fouquier-Tinville (he claims that, in the days the law was being worked out, Billaud-Varenne, Collot d'Herbois, Barère, Carnot and Prieur told him it was Robespierre who had been charged with the project) and Laurent Lecointre in Robespierre peint par lui-même et condamné par ses propres principes (1794) (he claims Robespierre wrote the law and confided only Couthon with it). If all these sources are to be treated with caution given their authors and the time they were written, it can nevertheless be established that Couthon and Robespierre (the first one in particular) are the only ones where any direct involvement in the development of the law can be traced, and that they did fight side by side (and harder than any other committee member) against the Convention to get it passed on both June 10 and June 12.  I’ve written about this more in detail in this post.

Couthon: All patriots are brothers and friends, as for me, I want to share the daggers directed against Robespierre (here the entire hall rises with cries of: Me too!) […] Couthon at the jacobins July 11 1794

Couthon, all the patriots are proscribed, the entire people have risen up; It would be a betrayal not to join us to the Commune, where we are now. Signed: Robespierre the older, Robespierre the younger, Saint-Just. Letter urging Couthon to come to Hôtel de Ville. According to Hervé Leuwers’ Robespierre(2014) this letter is in Augustin Robespierre’s hand. According to 9-thermidor.com Robespierre and Couthon, alongside Augustin, Saint-Just, Le Bas were all declared under arrest by the Convention around 1:30 PM. Around 5 PM they were taken to the Committee of General Security and served dinner, before getting seperated and taken to different prisons between 6:30 and 7 PM. Couthon was the last to reunite with his friends at Hôtel de Ville at around 1 AM, less than an hour before the building was stormed.

The two Robespierres were [in the meeting room], one next to President Lescot-Fleuriot and the other next to Payan, national agent. Couthon was carried into the room a moment later; and what is noteworthy is that he was still followed by his gendarme. On arriving he was embraced by Robespierre, etc. and they passed into the next room, which I entered. The first word I heard from Couthon was: “We must write to the armies immediately”. Robespierre said: “In whose name?” Couthon replied: “But in the name of the Convention; is it not still where we are? The rest are only a handful of factions that the armed force we have will dissipate, and of whom it will bring justice.” Here Robespierre the elder seemed to think a little; he bent down to his brother's ear; then he said: “My opinion is that we write in the name of the French people.” He also, at that moment, took the hand of the gendarme who entered with Couthon and said to him: “Brave gendarme, I have always admired and esteemed your body; always be faithful to us; go to the door and ensure that you continue to embitter the people against the rebels.” Letter from H. G. Dulac to Courtois, July 25 1795, regarding the night at the Hôtel de Ville on 9 thermidor. 

As soon as Couthon entered [Hôtel de Ville], three or four members led him away, and two or three presented him with papers and ink. Robespierre and Couthon said: ”We cannot write to our armies in the name of the Convention or of the Commune, given that this would be stopped, but rather in the name of the French people, that would work much better,” and, instantly, Couthon began to write on his knees saying: ”The traitors will perish, there are still humans in France and virtue will triumph.” Robespierre took the hand of gendarme Muron and said to them both: “Go down to the square immediately and energize the people!” Testimony of gendarmes Muron and Javois, who escorted Couthon to Hôtel de Ville. Cited in Autour de Robespierre… (1925) by Albert Mathiez, page 224-225. The Hôtel de Ville was stormed somewhere before 2 AM. At 5 AM, the injured Couthon was brought to l’hospice d’humanité (Hôtel-Dieu de Paris), before joining Robespierre at the Committee of Public Safety. At 11 AM the two plus Gobeau were escorted to the Conciergerie prison and locked up in individual cells. According to number 675 of Suite de journal de Perlet, released two days after the execution, Robespierre and Couthon sat in different tumbrils when they around 6 PM got driven to the scaffold. Couthon was executed first, Robespierre second to last. 

—

Throughout his first year as a deputy, Couthon appears to have been closer to the ”girondins” than the ”montagnards.” In a letter dated January 3 1792 he calls Brissot and Condorcet ”two distinguished patriots with superior talent” apropos of their recent works calling for war. On January 19 1792 he expresses his own support of France going to war in another letter, and on April 20 1792 he was among the deputies that voted in favor of war with Austria (only seven did however vote no). In a letter dated September 1 1792 Couthon calls the Insurrectionary commune to which Robespierre belonged (and, according to some, dominated) ”[a] municipality led by a few dangerous men [that] seems to ignore decrees, and believes itself above the first power,” expressing his hopes that ”this distressing confusion will soon end and that the Municipality of Paris will cease to consider itself the Municipality of the whole Empire.” A week later, September 8 1792, he reports that ”the functions of the ardent chamber of the people have been broken since the evening before last, due to the care of the brave and virtuous Pétion.” In the letter to Roland dated October 4 1792 previously mentioned, Couthon still calls him “brave and estimable minister.” But just a week after said letter had gotten penned down, October 12, he more or less broke with the girondins, when he at the Jacobins said they were a group composed ”of gentlemen, subtle and intriguing, and above all ambitious” that ”wish a republic because popular opinion has demanded it, but they wish it aristocratic, they wish to maintain their control, and to have at their disposal the offices, the emoluments, and especially the finances of the state,” and ending by calling for all energies to be turned against ”this faction, which desires liberty only for itself.” (Bruun speculates this was due to him not having gained a place on the Committee of Constitution within the girondin dominated Convention the day earlier). This move surprised Madame Roland, who in a letter dated October 14 urged Bancal to ”go and see Couthon and reason with him; it is incredible that such a good mind allowed himself to speak out in a strange way against the best citizens.”

Throughout their time on the Committee of Public Safety, Robespierre and Couthon often rose up together at the Convention and the Jacobin club to speak for or against certain subjects. Besides the law of 22 prairial, the two also joined sides against petitioners talking with their hats on (December 20 1793), against Dufourny (March 18 1794), the establishment of a police bureau (April 16, April 18 1794). They helped contribute to the expulsion of both Rousselin (May 25) and Dubois-Crancé (July 11) from the Jacobins, and joined hands in speaking for arresting ”any individual that dares to insult the Convention” (July 24 1794). It was Couthon who asked for the printing of both Robespierre’s On Political Morality Speech on February 5 1794 as well as for his report on Religious and Moral Ideas on May 7 1794. As for Robespierre’s final speech on July 26 1794, Couthon proposed and got through ”that it be distributed throughout all of the Republic.” At the jacobins later the same day he proposed the immediate exclusion of all those who had voted against the printing of the speech, and once again he had his way.

On July 3 1794 we find a CPS decree signed by Collot, Carnot, Saint-Just, Barère, Billaud and C-A Prieur ordering Couthon to go to the army of the Midi, an order that he never followed through with. This could be interpreted as Couthon understanding Robespierre’s enemies were plotting againt him by trying to send him away, but choosing to stay at his side and share his fate.

Couthon to Robespierre while on the CPS: your little sister ATTACKED me!!

[aziraphales-library]

Hello!! I really appreciate your blog. I've been looking for fics told through, or just including, letters as a main theme. Thank you, have a lovely day.

Hi! You will want to check our #epistolary tag for more fics like this. Here are more to add...

A Selection of Unsent Letters from a Demon by Heretic1103 (T)

At the urging of his human friends and his grief therapy group, Crowley begins writing letters to Aziraphale that he never intends to send.

the wallpaper (slowly, slowly peeling off) by rainbowumbrella (M)

Aziraphale should put the letters away, he knew. He should just scoop them all up and slip them back into the box. No point dilly-dallying. Muriel was waiting, and so was Heaven. And yet - And yet he found himself scanning the contents of the first one in his hand, his back finding a rest on the shelf behind him, his legs crossing neatly beneath him, all without a single thought to his perfectly clean trousers. What did they matter? He hated them, anyway. *** A falling book leads Aziraphale to find a box containing all the letters he and Crowley have exchanged through the years.

Letters Unsent by Beet_Feet (T)

"You took my letter?!" Crowley sat up and twisted to look at Aziraphale with his mouth agape. "I did nothing of the sort! I found it in my notebook—the notebook in which I had written you a letter that mysteriously disappeared." "This letter?" Crowley reached down to the floorboard and held the letter up in front of Aziraphale's very flabbergasted face. He had dropped it when the angel appeared in the Bentley. "Where did you get that?!" "I found it on my car. I think someone has been playing us, Angel. Did Muriel pay you a visit today, by any chance?" (Crowley and Aziraphale vent their frustrations by writing letters they will never send to each other, but Muriel decides to meddle.)

A Letter for Later by ngk_is_cool (G)

"Anyway," his eyes returned to the newspaper, and he continued reading, “another exhibition is A Letter for Later. It will include clay tablets from Mesopotamia, vellum from Wessex, and even a modern Palm Pilot that was found at Battersea Park full of unsent love letters. It will explore the theme of unrequited love over the development of humanity…." His eyes scanned quickly the rest of the article, and he hummed in satisfaction. "It will open two weeks from now, and apparently in high demand, so much that the article recommended buying tickets in advance. Would you like to go, my dear?" Or - Crowley wrote and destroyed (or, at least, he thought did) love letters. Now they are about to be published, and he has a great plan to make sure it won't happen.

Postcards From Paris by ghostrat (G)

Crowley has just moved into his Mayfair apartment and finds a postcard addressed to the previous tenant. With no return address, he's left to collect and read the mysterious A.Z.F.'s adventures across Europe, where he hunts for bizarre bibles and rates ridiculously expensive wine in his free time. The question is: How will A.Z.F. react when Crowley finally gets his return address and writes back? --- It was different, he knew, to accidentally read someone else’s postcard versus intentionally perusing one in place of good newspaper over coffee. Crowley decided he was allowed that indecency, to balance out the good deed of safeguarding the mail in the first place. He kicked his feet up onto his desk, scooped up the takeaway coffee that was brought around by their newest intern, and settled in to read some of the most densely crowded handwriting he’d ever laid eyes on.

You’ve Got Mail by SouthDrarryReturned (T)

Aziraphale and Crowley are hereditary enemies, rival book shop owners engaged in corporate warfare. They are also pen pals that are perfect for one another. They don’t know about that bit though. A.K.A the Good Omen’s remake of the classic romcom You’ve Got Mail that no one asked for.

- Mod D

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Five Fics Friday: August 16/24

Happy Friday Everyone!! Check out these fics to start off your weekend!!! Hope you enjoy!!!

RECENT MFLs

John's Wedding Speech by jawnscoffee (G, 790 w., 1 Ch. || Wedding Fluff) – Maybe I shouldn’t have let my husband hold his speech first because it’s way harder to leave a good impression when there’s already a winner.

Show Me Your Flaws by holmesian_love (NR, 8,271+ w., 2/14 Ch. || Coffee Shop AU || WIP || Angst with Happy Ending, Alternate First Meeting, Developing Relationship, Musician Sherlock, Friendship) – John Watson is lost in the world. Back from Afghanistan as an invalided soldier, with no purpose in life, he takes up a suggestion from an old friend and tries a bit of a life change. Only now, he finds himself stuck in a new, tedious situation with no money or friends. That is, until a dark, talented stranger crosses his path and suddenly life doesn’t seem quite so boring anymore. But how can John begin to win over someone like that, when he feels so flawed? And how can he capture the attention of the dashing man who keeps disappearing…

John's Legacy by BakerTumblings (M, 19,035 w., 3 Ch. || Inspired by Fanfic, IVF, Parenting, Surrogacy, Fluff) – Inspired by Nature and Nurture. This fanfic tackles life at Baker Street set after the British Government "accidentally" cloned Sherlock Holmes. Oliver Watson-Holmes lives with his two fathers and it about to embark on a whole new way of life. This story is less about Oliver (although he is a wonderful child) and deals with Sherlock's endeavor to gift John with a biologic child. Oh, and he never said anything about it to John.

Always a Soldier by Lock_John_Silver (E, 21,252+ w., 6/8 Ch. || WiP || POV Alternating, Developing Relationship, Nightmares, Sherlock's Violin, Caring Sherlock, Case Fic, Minor Character Death, Letters, Sherlock's Military Kink, Travel, Language Kink, Paris, Jealous John, BAMF Sherlock, Sherlock Speaks French, Twins, Dinner / Wine/ Food, Crime Scenes, Voice Kink, Hugging, Sightseeing, Idiots in Love, First Kiss, Childhood Memories, Military Uniforms, Captain Watson, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Blow Jobs, Friends to Lovers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, John's a Mess, Endearments, Sherlock's a Mess, Past Unhealthy Relationship, Sherlock's Mind Palace, Swimming, Topping from the Bottom, Anal Fingering, Excursions) – Mycroft arrives at Baker Street with disturbing news which even Sherlock can’t ignore. Going abroad, even when the circumstances are horrible, might be just what both he and John need to avoid stagnation.

Kinesis by StellaCartography (E, 35,641+ w., 13/28 Ch. || WiP || Johnlock and Mystrade || Post S4, Dissociation, Workaholic, Canon Compliant, Job Loss, Alternating POV, Vacation, Road Trips, Fishing, Card Games, Camping, Coffee Shops, Massage, Homophobia, Getting Caught in the Rain) – After the events at Sherrinford, Mycroft experiences intense scrutiny at work. As his position becomes increasingly precarious, he tries to investigate the source of the threat, but is thwarted at every turn. With his career and his mental health in shambles, can Mycroft open himself to a personal life he's been neglecting for decades?

[pilferingapples]

Fantine Fic Recs!

Things being how they are for Fantine, these are pretty much all AUs, but I'm going to roughly sort them into Canon Era AUs and More AU Than That:P

Actual Canon Era:

A Bit of Philosophy on Love, by mgrbienvenu A conversation between the grisettes

Canon Era AU

the Less Miserables series, by @robertawickham : Chance twists a little differently for Fantine, and she starts on the road to a very different life. Featuring a lot of Zephine , too !

At Summer's End, by @saltedpin : Fantine meets a stranger on the road to M sur M , and it changes her path and theirs. A fix-it for multiple characters!

Ailes des Jais, by @akallabeth-joie : canon era, BBC setting, following up on THE hot new character from that series: Fantine's Bead Bird. Ignore my snark, this is a very sweet little tale.

Silent Night, by crimsondust/ @aflamethatneverdies : fixit for Georges and Fantine !

Grand-père Noël, by @akallabeth-joie : fix it fic! Victurnien makes a grave error and ends up helping out. And Cosette and Fantine get a mysterious visitor...

A Right to Flowers, by @midautumnnightdream: Fantine stays in Paris, and life goes a little more gently. Fix it fic for Fantine and many others.

Vulture, Lark, Sparrow, Owl, by @breadvidence: " ... in those explorations of the Infinite there are realities where the most wretched souls are extended pity in life which they elsewhere knew nowhere but under the sheltering mantle of our mother. All that Providence required was a little more snow, and a cloud traversing the sky out of season sufficed to renew a world" . Fix it fic in M- sur -M.

More AU Than That

A Favour, from @shitpostingfromthebarricade : Modern setting. Fantine and Favourite meet again some years later, now both single mothers, and renew their acquaintance.

As a Hen Gathers Her Brood, by @shitpostingfromthebarricade: A Scarlet Letter AU!! getting out classic lit in our classic lit....

Miserable Spectres, by crimsondust/ @aflamethatneverdies : a Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell AU ! Focuses largely on Fantine and Eponine as parallel figures.

En l' annee 2014: a wonderful modernizing and rewriting of Fantine's story --and Favourite's , and Dahlia's -- to bring it into the 21st century. I am in awe of the translation of themes and details across the centuries. Go go go read.

If You Ever Need Help, Call For Me, by jubilantly: a fairy tale AU! " Fantine helps three animals, and gets help in return when she needs it."

Under a Moonlit Sky, by badassindustries / @badassindistress : " The year is 1817. After Félix Tholomyès' little suprise, a despairing Fantine thinks she might go to her hometown of M-sur-M to find work. Instead, she decides to find Tholomyès and make him acknowledge Cosette. Enter a young man who would love to have an excuse to travel South (as far away from the law faculty as possible) and is uniquely suited to hunting down terrible men" . Also Bahorel is a werewolf. Don't worry about it .

And as always , tip your fic writers (leave comments !)

[enlitment]

What’s the beef between Voltaire and Rousseau? I follow this person who pretends they’re Rousseau and they shit on Voltaire every other day…I’m so curious what is the lore 👀👀

Hi, first of all thanks for the ask! There's a lot going on, but I think it's quite entertaining, so if you have some time to spare to learn about a beef between two colourful characters from centuries ago, strap in!

(Also just decided I'll make two posts because there's so much to get into. Sincerely sorry, brevity has never been my strong suit.)

The genius leads Voltaire and Rousseau to the Temple of Fame and Immortality (from French Revolution period)

PHILOSOPHICAL DIFFERENCES (aka let's get the basics out of the way first)

I know that a lot of people (myself certainly included!) are mostly there to discuss the juicier stuff, but I think an overview of their general outlook on life is still important, if only to better understand the drama that went down between them.

This will of course be a gross oversimplification of quite complex philosophical problems. (I can almost sense my lecturers shaking their heads as I'm typing this.) Nonetheless -

The simplest way to describe their differences of opinion is that Voltaire championed reason and logic while Rousseau’s philosophy focused much more on feelings. (His personal life was like that as well. JJ prided himself in being in touch with his feelings, which I’m all here for, but sometimes it does really feel like he’s crying in the woods on literally every other page). Another key difference in their general worldview would be Rousseau’s optimism contrasted with Voltaire’s pessimism (probably best exemplified in Candide).

Voltaire essentially believed that human Reason, along with all the rapid advances in sciences and arts overseen by the 18th century would lead to a better life and a better society. Rousseau, on the other hand, in his famous essay First Discourse on Arts and Sciences that skyrocketed his career as a philosopher basically argues that people were originally good in their 'natural state' and it is the artifice of society that corrupted them and rendered them unhappy.

2. PERSONAL AND LIFESTYLE DIFFERENCES

This then very much ties into the differences between the two philosophers as people.

From Paris. Shout out to my friends who waited for me for five minutes before I got a decent angle.

Rousseau saw himself as a champion of the simple, humble life. In a personal letter to Voltaire, he claimed that the fact V spends his life surrounded by opulence, luxury, and insincere manners of the upper-classes is the precise cause of his misery. V in turn though that both Rousseau’s views and he as a person are a bit ridiculous. (Honestly? Fair. Lot of people did, especially among the upper-classes and 'men of letters' - a lot of which were former Rousseau's friends as well before he decided to go full cottagecore).

3. THE BEEF PART 1: THE (MOSTLY) GOOD

Voltaire contacted Rousseau after he read his famous essay The Discourse on the Origin of Inequality among Men in 1755. The letter itself is far from just patting Rousseau on the back. Voltaire does defend the arts, the sciences, and the human progress in general against Rousseau's criticism. I'm including this quote from it since it illustrates the typical banter of V that nonetheless has teeth:

as well as this quote (mostly because I think it's a banger line):

Letters support, refine, and comfort the soul: they are serving you, sir, at the very moment you decry them: you are like Achilles declaiming against fame (...)

Nonetheless, the tone of the letter is overall quite amiable. To me, it reads as playful criticism - critical, sure, but no open hostility at this point. He even invites Rousseau to come visit him at the end:

M. Chappus tells me your health is very unsatisfactory: you must come and recover here in your native place, enjoy its freedom, drink (with me) the milk of its cows, and browse on its grass.

[1/2] to be continued...

[asgards-princess-of-mischief]

Last Updated: 2024-02-01

Disclaimer: I am not the author of these stories, just sharing my favourite Johnathan Pine stories. Find the authors' links below. If you want your work removed, message me privately.

Legend: 〔E〕 ⇢ Erotic/Steamy | 〔F〕 ⇢ Fluff | 〔A〕 ⇢ Angst/Hurt 〔M〕 ⇢ Minor Angst/Hurt | 〔C〕 ⇢ Comfort | ♥︎ ⇢ Established Relationship | 𑁍 ⇢ Pregnancy/Children | 🚫 ⇢ Content Warning

✑ Andy & Liv by ladyfloriographist • 〔F᜶M〕 •

✑ Cleaning Up by thezombieprostitute • 〔F᜶M〕 •

Summary: Something is budding between you and the new night manager at the hotel.

✑ Duty of Care by muddyorbsblr • 18+ • 〔A᜶C〕 •

Summary: "After Pine rescues you from a bloodthirsty mafia leader, he confesses his feelings for you while tending to your wounds."

✑ Holiday in Cario by iwillbeinmynest • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "Your friend invites you on a trip overseas but when she all but [ditches you] you find yourself in a rather uncomfortable position. Lucky for you the hotel [night manager] comes to your rescue."

✑ I Won't Let Go by holdmytesseract • 〔F᜶M〕 •

Summary: “Angela convinced Jonathan to attend a event - held by the Riverhouse, to take his mind off his lovesickness. Unbeknowst to him, you have a gig on exactly that event...”

✑ Leave Me Wanting More by the-purity-pen • 18+ • 〔E〕 •

Summary: Months of mutual pining finally culminate in a passionate encounter, but Jonathan makes sure to leave you wanting more…

✑ Mission Comes First, the by holymultiplefandomsbatman • 16+ • 〔A〕 • ♥︎ • 🚫 •

Summary: "Jonathan met you long before he came in contact with Angela Burr. When he goes undercover, you join him. Unfortunately, Roper catches and then tortures you to find out who sent you... while Jonathan has to stand by and watch, just like he promised you. The mission comes first, no matter what."

✑ Mr. Pine by sserpente • 18+ • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Imagine surprising… your boyfriend at his workplace,… a fancy hotel in Switzerland and getting him all worked up by repeatedly calling him Mr. Pine.

✑ My Dearest Diamond by five-miles-over • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "After nearly two years… [you and Jonathan] rekindled your love via handwritten letters, until you [plan a] trip to London to see him. As he prepares [for your arrival], Jonathan reflects on his relationship with you …[carrying] out one last errand before you land."

✑ Paris by muddyorbsblr • 〔E᜶F〕 •

Summary: "After spending the last few hours pretending to be a loving couple while on a mission in Paris, Jonathan decides to lose himself in the fantasy of having you to himself."

✑ Pine by devilbat • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 •

Summary: After rescuing you from kidnappers, your father hires Jonathan to be your bodyguard allowing the two of you to grow close. One night, he breaks into your room, asking you to trust him, and although the attack left you wary of the world, you know one thing for sure: Jonathan will always keep you safe.

✑ Saviour by sserpente • 〔E᜶F᜶A〕 •

Prompt(s): "Imagine Jonathan Pine saving your life after you end up going after the same target."

✑ Secrets￨Prt. II by strangerquinns • 18+ • 〔E᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •

Prompt(s): "So desperate for it, aren't you? Well, if you want it so bad you'd better start taking it." + "Look at you, grinding against everything, you're really desperate for it. Aren't you?"

✑ Sleepy by thehiddlebums • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Prompt(s): "Your lover is snoring quietly and you can't help but giggle because it's so cute" + "Laughing at their messy hair in the morning."

✑ Slow Your Roll by ladyfluff • 〔C〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: Exhausted and confined to the house after surgery, Jonathan shows you unwavering care and support on your shared journey to recovery.

✑ Summer in Majorca by smolvenger • 18+ • 〔F᜶A〕 •

Summary: "A trip to Spain alongside Roper and his crew had you cross paths with a man mysterious as he is kind and heroic as he is handsome. He goes by Thomas and then Andrew [but is] secretly named Jonathan. You find yourself blossoming feelings for him. [However,] it seems he has eyes for Jed and not you..."

✑ A Complete Surprise by wickednerdery •

✑ After Glow by holdmytesseract • 〔C〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Buh-nana. by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

✑ Dirty Talk by fadingfics • 18+ • 〔E᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Good Enough to Eat

✑ Home Before You Know It￨Prt. II by just-the-hiddles • 18+ • 〔F᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Life with You by lokispet-blog1 • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Not Alone by holdmytesseract • 〔C〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Paper Hearts and Glitter Glue by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

✑ Photographic Evidence by ladyfluff • 〔A〕 • ♡ •

✑ Short and Sweet Fuse by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Sneaking Around by anonymousfiction211 • 16+ • 〔E᜶A〕 •

✑ So Much More by five-miles-over • 〔F᜶M〕 •

✑ Step Outside by ladyfluff • 〔E᜶C〕 •

✑ Way You Look at Me, the by jewels2876 • 〔E〕 •

✑ Welcome to the World by holdmytesseract • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

✑ Will You Marry Me? by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Within the Strongbox of My Heart by frostbitten-written • 〔A〕 • ♡ •

✑ You by imagine-upon-a-star • 〔A〕 • ♥︎ •

See Also: Navigation || Jonathan Pine Master Index

Authors: @anonymousfiction211 || @devilbat || @fadingfics || @five-miles-over || @frostbitten-written || @holdmytesseract || @holymultiplefandomsbatman || @imagine-upon-a-star || @iwillbeinmynest || @jewels2876 || @just-the-hiddles || @ladyfloriographist || @ladyfluff || @lokispet-blog1 || @muddyorbsblr || @smolvenger || @sserpente || @strangerquinns || @the-purity-pen || @thehiddlebums || @thezombieprostitute || @wickednerdery ||

[searchsystem]

M/M (Paris) / Volume / Letters from M/M (Paris) / Book / 2023

[thedrarrylibrarian]

hello! bit of a specific request but would you know of any fics that feature draco & harry exchanging snarky letters (for whatever purpose- their jobs or teddy or anything really) that get progressively less snarky and more exasperatedly affectionate? fic doesn't have to be only featuring their letters, but like initially at least the exchanges between draco & harry are solely via post

Is there anything more romantic than taking the time to write a letter? Even if it is sent out of annoyance, you had to take time to find pen and paper, sit and write your thoughts, sign off and sign your name, then find postage and send it.

I hope you enjoy these epistolary (one of my favorite words) fics. And if you feel up to it, send a friend a letter for the joy of it.

Epistolary

Mislaid Owl Post by (801 words, rated G) by @thelionessroyal

A trainee owl keeps bringing letters to Hogwarts Potions Master Draco Malfoy instead of their intended recipients, leading to a rather annoyed Malfoy and amused Potter sending letters back and forth. Maybe they should thank the poor owl for his efforts...

Yours, Draco by @drarrytrash (3,505 words, not rated)

All that's left are 15 letters, and then those are gone too.

I Just Want You to Know by @crazybutgood and @sugareey-makes-stuff (3,949 words, rated T)

After a Potions accident leaves Harry and Draco without a verbal filter, they have no choice but to communicate with each other through letters. Forced to work together to catch up and complete their Potions project on time, secrets they have both been withholding eventually spill out along the way.

Famous Last Words by drarrymadhatter and @ladderofyears (6,298 words, rated M)

When unsigned love letters addressed to him begin spontaneously appearing around the castle, Draco is not amused. In an effort to make them stop - or at least to make them stop appearing in public places with permanent sticking charms - he writes back.

Handling Snakes by @potter-loves-malfoy (7,074 words, rated T)

Draco Malfoy is content with his life as a psychologist in the Muggle world. Sure, the tube is a nightmare, and it would be nice to use magic without worrying about being discreet, but it's good for the most part. When he starts treating a client for their fear of snakes, he realizes that his safe, comfortable, Muggle life won't be that way for long. It really doesn't help that he might have a slight aversion to snakes. There's no avoiding it now; he needs Harry Potter. Only for his snakes, of course.

To Auld Acquaintance by @cavendishbutterfly, @corvuscrowned, @sorrybutblog, @fictional (8,326 words, rated T)

After Draco returns from a stint in Paris, neither Harry nor Draco seem to know how to talk to each other. As usual, they make it literally everyone else's problem.

Featuring: texts, letters, emails, and further shenanigans.

Per my last letter (I hope you choke on it) by @fluxweeed and @lastontheboat (10,258 words, rated T)

Dear Mr Potter, The answer is, and will remain, a no.

Sincerely, Draco Malfoy Accounts Manager, Phoenix Press

How to Fool Your Friends (And Get a Boyfriend in the Process ) by @famoustruth and @orpheous87 (10,332 words, rated T)

Fed up with their friends trying to set them up, Harry and Draco decide to pretend to be a couple in public. They plan their every move through their letters, but what they didn't plan for were the very real feelings that make themselves known.

Yours Truly by @skeptiquewrites (14,848 words, rated M)

Every single one of Harry’s exes has gone on to marry the next person they date, and with the upcoming nuptials of numbers six and seven to each other, Harry’s feeling exhausted by it all. It doesn’t really matter if he lets people assume Draco Malfoy is his boyfriend for a moment of peace. In any case, Draco’s been away for five years and there’s no way he would find out, right?

There are many benefits to being a marine biologist by @tedahfromtayla (19,088 words, rated T)

There is something about Harry that constantly calls Draco back to Britain. No matter how far he tries to run, he can't outrun his stubborn heart, or the history of his family.

Bonne Foi, Draco Malfoy by @badwolfblues (19,399 words, rated E)

At twenty-five, Draco Malfoy has to return to England to do something about the Manor, and Harry Potter won’t leave him alone. His years-old crush on Potter is reignited over repairs, mermaid lemonades, and pocket owl messages.

Butterflies in Winter by Justlikewriting (19,725 words, rated M)

Of course Harry had known that Malfoy’d been sent to Azkaban, but, to be honest, since the trials Harry hadn’t really thought of the git at all anymore. A random visit to Slug and Jiggers was about to drastically change that, though.

And whose exactly were those letters that Harry found there?

Dear Stranger by @iero0 (22,751 words, rated T)

The one thing more pointless than falling in love with an anonymous wizard over a correspondence is falling in love with Harry Potter when you’re Draco Malfoy.

*Check out the Happy Hour rec of this fic by @ladderofyears

All Things Go by @sorrybutblog (32,826 words, rated E)

Draco’s back at Hogwarts by court order. Harry’s back for no particular reason at all. Some things change, some stay the same. Neither expects to spend eighth-year living in close quarters, playing rugby (poorly), staying up late, sneaking around, and finally figuring it all out.

The Art of Thank You Notes by fictionclaw (82,232 words, rated E)

A few years after the war, Harry receives a ministry notice that Draco Malfoy’s house arrest will soon be lifted and that the wand he has kept may be sent to the ministry. He doesn’t think much of it when he sends the wand directly to Malfoy Manor with a note.

But one letter swiftly follows another and Malfoy sneaks his way into Harry's every day life without either of them minding.

Or; Harry and Draco find reasons to write letters to each other and Black heirlooms and family histories are uncovered while they figure out why that is. Lunch dates, careful friendship, confusing feelings and Draco's art included.

Save the Date by @mallstars (122,954 words, rated E)

In the twelve years after the war, Harry attends sixteen weddings. As friends and acquaintances vow their lives to one another, he watches quietly from the sidelines. Step by step, Harry pieces himself back together, builds a life from the wreckage of his past and falls, slowly and thoroughly, for Draco Malfoy.

A story told in sixteen parts, of patient and transformative love, of queerness, of reaching out and holding on. Featuring plenty of pining, Gilderoy Lockhart getting married in a fever dream of glitter and product placement, and Rita Skeeter spitting a steady stream of venom at Harry and Draco's every move.

❤️ As always, if you find a fic you enjoy, please remember to leave the author a kudos or a comment! ❤️

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I just stumbled upon a letter Lafayette sent to his wife on tumblr and wanted to know more about the context but couldn’t find the original letter. Do you happen to know where this is from?

“…I shall let you know later, to be sure of finding you alone, for I determined and am very much hoping to take you in my arms between eleven and midnight…”

I Don’t know if it is just the style that he wrote or, just a French thing, but it looks like he wanted to show a little love and it’s hilarious 😂

Dear Anon,

this is a letter written by La Fayette to his wife Adrienne on Sunday, January 23, 1785 in Rennes. Here is the full text of the letter. I marked the excerpt you send me in bold.

Rennes, Sunday evening [January 23, 1785] Here I am, very near you, my dear heart, very impatient to arrive, and very happy to feel behind me the distance that has separated us. What crowns all my joy is to learn that my aunt is settled in Paris. I arrived in good health, t and this evening I stopped by Montmorin's intending to leave immediately, but the Estates of Brittany have assembled, and it has been decided that I should make an appearance tomorrow at eleven o'clock, with arrangements too special for me possibly to avoid it. I shall arrive Wednesday evening at Versailles, surely so late that I shall not pay a visit, but since I must meet with the ministers the next day, I would rather sleep there and could pay my court Thursday, so that Friday we could go to dine with my aunt, sup at Mme de Tesse's, and take up our former way of life again. Or rather, if you prefer, we shall go on Thursday after dinner to Paris. Although I shall let you know later, to be sure of finding you alone, I am very much hoping to take you in my arms between eleven and midnight, unless we are detained en route. Give my news to Mme de Tesse, your sisters, and father and mother. I have instructed Le Brun to go to Charlus's, M. de Poix's, and the vicomte's, and I am writing a word to Mme d'Henin and Mme de Simiane, so you see all my friends are forewarned. I am also sending a note to my aunt. Farewell my dear heart, I am very happy. I love you very much, and I am very impatient to tell you so myself. I would very much like our children to come to Versailles. Please give my news also to Mme de Boufflers. It is late, and I want a little sleep.

Idzerda Stanley J. et al., editors, Lafayette in the Age of the American Revolution: Selected Letters and Papers, 1776–1790, Volume 5, January 4, 1782 December 29, 1785, Cornell University Press, 1983, p. 292-293.

As you see, your quote was a little bit taken out of context. This was just La Fayette’s way of saying when he hoped to arrive at home … although I would never put is past La Fayette to have other things in mind. :-)

I hope this helped and you have/had a lovely day!

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

Were Danton and Camille really as close as almost every biography/novel/movie, etc. makes them out to be? For a long time I believed they were best friends, but I realize that I don't know much about what really happened (only that Camille mentioned him as a friend several times in his letters).

Sorry if a similar question has already been asked, and thank you for all your wonderful posts. I read each one with great interest.

Thank you! I’m throwing in their wives too for good measure.

As popular as the idea of Danton and Desmoulins being friends already before the revolution is among novelists (A Place of Greater Safety (1992) by Hilary Mantel, The Gods Are Thirsty (1996) by Tanith Lee) and even biographers (Danton (2012) by David Lawday, Georges-Jacques Danton (1987) by Frank Dwyer) I have not been able to discover any evidence indicating this to actually have been the case. The very first connection I’ve found between the two dates to December 12 1789, when Desmoulins for the very first time mentions Danton’s name in his recently founded journal Révolutions de France et de Brabant:

As I do not have the advantage of being from the illustrious Cordeliers District, I am addressing this motion [to make it forbidden to use the term Queen of the French in public acts] to it through this journal. I beg its worthy President M. d'Anton to propose it to the honorable members, to discuss it in their wisdom and address it to the fifty-nine others; I leave my motion on their desks, and I sign it... A Frenchman.

The second time Camille mentions Danton’s name in Révolutions de France et de Brabant is eleven numbers later (March 1 1790). In the number, Camille describes how he on February 24 for the very first time enters the Cordeliers club and enrolls himself as a member. The very same session, he, alongside Danton, Fabre d’Eglantine, Paré and Dufourny de Villiers are named commissioners for the editing of a report by the club requesting the construction of a building ”worthy the National Assembly” on the place of the destroyed Bastille. This is the earliest confirmed meeting between Danton and Desmoulins that I’ve been able to find.

By the end of the same month, in number 17 (March 20) and number 18 (March 29) of Révolutions de France et de Brabant, Camille loudly protests against the fact Danton (”this lustrous president of the Cordeliers district”) has been decreed under arrest by le Châtelet de Paris, accused of having threatened to ring the tocsin in order to mobilize the Faubourg Saint−Antoine for the defense of his district when the National Guard came by:

If you put on trial a citizen who has put forward an extravagant opinion in his district, you will therefore also have to put on trial, with much more reason, the judge who, in his company, has opined in an extravagant manner; it will therefore be necessary to hang the judge who will have sentenced to death an accused whom the majority will have absolved, since this judge will have approved the death of an innocent person, which is much worse than making an extravagant motion in a district.

Desmoulins brings up Danton in Révolutions de France et de Brabant a few more times throughout the rest of 1790, calling him both ”the lustrous Danton” (number 31, June 28, number 35, July 26) as well as the more bombastic ”the most robust athlete of the patriots, the only tribune of the people who could have been heard in the Champ-de-Mars, and with his voice rally the patriots around the tribune, the only man whose veto the aristocracy had to fear, and in whom it could have found both the Gracchi brothers and a Marius.” (number 44, September 27). When Danton in the fall is appointed judge at Saint-Germain, Camille celebrates (number 47, October 18):

The Philoctetes of Hercules, d’Anton, is also appointed judge at Saint-Germain. He is well worthy of sitting next to M. Le Grand de Laleu. Honor to the city of Saint-Germain! Based on these two choices we can only augur well for the others. I would be tempted to believe that our patriarch Robe did so many readings of his poem on the revolution there, that he inflamed all the voters with a patriotism which dictated to them these excellent choices. The Parisians, ungrateful, forgot in the elections Danton, and Abbé Fauchet, and Brissot, and Carra, and Manuel; but it seems that the surrounding districts were responsible for the recognition.

On December 27 1790 Danton, alongside twelve other well known ”patriots,” signed the Desmoulins couple’s wedding contract. He was however not present for the actual wedding ceremony two days later, something which I suppose could be read as implying he and Desmoulins were not that close yet. On the other hand, the way Desmoulins does describe his wedding witnesses in a letter to his father written five days later (”Péthion [sic] and Robespierre, the elite of the National Assembly, M. de Sillery who wanted to be there, and my two colleagues Brissot de Warville and Mercier, the elite among the journalists”), it almost sounds like he’s chosen them less out of friendship and more out of prestige, so maybe this doesn’t have to mean that much either… After the wedding, Camille and Lucile moved to Rue du Théâtre 1 (today Rue de l’Odeon 28) roughly a ten minute walk from the Dantons’ apartment on 20 cour du Commerce-Saint-André (today destroyed). The ease with which they would come and go between these two apartments will be seen through Lucile’s diary 1792-1793.

In number 63 (February 7 1791) of Révolutions de France et de Brabant, Camille celebrates the fact that ”the excellent patriot Danton” has become a member of the department of Paris — ”If there is only one patriot of this caliber in the 83 departments, all the projects of our enemies from within and without will fail against his firmness, his ascendancy, his vigilance and his incorruptibility.” In a letter to La Marck dated March 10 1791, Mirabeau claimed to ”have evidence Danton was behind (a fait faire)the latest number of Camille-Desmoulins,” which, regardless of whether the charge was true, suggests a certain closeness between the two at this point. In number 72 (April 11) Camille exclaims: ”how the true jacobin Danton made blush the adulators that his excellency had already found.” Two numbers after that (April 25), he celebrates Danton’s actions the 18th the same month, the day the royal family tried to leave for Saint-Cloud but was stopped by a mob. In the number, Camille writes that Danton told him how he on the day in question had found himself at the Departemnt when Bailly and La Fayette came there to demand permission to proclaim martial law and order the National Guards to fire on the crowd surrounding the royal family if necessary. Danton had successfully intervened and reduced them to silence. Camille praises this move in the number:

Courage, dear Danton! how much the patriotic writers must congratulate themselves today, who fought with obstinacy to praise you, and constantly nominated you for the votes of the people. By the parallel of your tribunitian eloquence, of your incorruptibility, of your masculine courage, with the academic and lachrymatory sentences of the courtier Bailly and his telescope which would have made us fall into the well with the astronomer in a scarf, continue to cover with shame all the citizens who gave him votes due to your patriotism.

In the same number, Camille also attributed to Danton and Kersaint an address placing the blame on what had happened on the 18th not on the people, but on the king: ”The same day the department of Paris presented the king with an address, the first, perhaps, which was written in the style of a free people. Also, it had been written by Danton and Kersaint: [transcription of the address].” According to Danton (1978) by Normann Hampson, Camille is however mistaken here, as the adress had actually been written by Talleyrand and Pastoret…

In the next number (May 2 1791) Camille writes the following, which I’m not sure how to interpret, but which Hervé Leuwers reads as assassins having been after both Camille, Danton and Fréron when the three were walking home a week earlier: ”I have learned that four assassins waited for me Tuesday evening (April 26), until midnight. Me, D’anton [sic] and the Orator of the People (Fréron).” In number 81 (June 18 1791) he lifts Danton, Garran de Coulon and Manuel as ”the candidates whom I would most strongly recommend to the 83 departments, for the next legislature.”

In number 82 (June 27 1791), Camille writes that, eleven o’clock in the evening of June 20, ”I was walking home from the Jacobins together with Danton and other patriots. We only saw but one patrol the whole way. Paris seemed so abandoned to me that night that I could not help but remark on it. One of us (Fréron according to Leuwers) who had in his pocket a letter which I will speak about, which warned him that the King had to leave that night, wanted to observe the castle, he saw M. Lafayette enter it at 11 o'clock.” The next morning, Paris woke up to the discovery that the royal family had indeed left the capital during the night. The very same day, Camille goes to the Jacobin club and arrives in the middle of Robespierre holding a speech about the current situation which moves him deeply. After him, Danton mounts the rostrum, and about the same time Lafayette enters the club. Danton delivers a speech blaming him for the king’s flight and asking he explains himself that Camille records in the journal. At the end of the speech, Alexandre Lameth rises to support Lafayette, recalling that he has always thought Lafayette would fall at the head of the patriots in case of a counter-revolution.

Danton came back to sit down next to me. Is it possible? I said to him. Yes, [he answered], and rising up, he confirmed that M. Alexandre Lameth had always said this to him about M. La Fayette. My blood boiled. I was tempted to cry out to Alexandre Lameth: you used very different language with me; and I declare that almost everything I wrote at La Fayette, I wrote, if not under your dictation, at least under your guarantee. But Danton held me back.

While all of this was going down, Lucile Desmoulins and Gabrielle Danton was staying at the apartment of the latter, something which we know through a letter Lucile wrote her mother on either June 24 or June 25, when the royal family had been captured and was on their way back to Paris. Unfortunately I have not been able to transcribe it in its entirety, but these are all the places mentioning Gabrielle that I could find:

…Ever since papa came with [warnings?] to us madame Danton and I have not left each other. I would have [gone crazy?] had I remained alone. These three days we have left [her place?] only at 9 o’clock [in the evening?] Sometimes people came to tell us that we were lost, and when we were told good news, madame Danton, her eyes filled with tears, threw herself around my neck. I’ve supped at her place during this time and [with?] all the patriots. […] Oh God o God, I’m going to send your beautiful  [p..?] to madame Danton.

On July 15 the Jacobins entrusted Brissot with writing a petition asking for the abdication of Louis XVI. The session was closed at midnight. Afterwards, Camille, Danton, Brune and La Poype all went over to Danton’s house to further discuss the petition (this was revealed by Brune in an interrogation held August 12 1791, published in number 34 (August 26) of the journal Gazette des nouveaux tribunaux). Two days later, the two were there once again, this time together with Fréron, Fabre, Santerre, Brune, Duplain, Momoro and Sergent-Marceau, and discussing the lynching of two men at the Champ-de-Mars the same morning, when, at nine o’clock, Legendre arrived and told the group that two men had come home to him and said: We are charged with warning you to get out of Paris, bring Danton, Camille and Fréron, let them not be seen in the city all day, it is Alexandre Lameth who engages this. Camille, Danton and Fréron follow this advice and leave, and were therefore most likely not present for the demonstration and shootings on Champ-de-Mars the very same day (this information was given more than forty years after the fact by Sergent-Marceau in volume 5 of the journal Revue rétrospective, ou Bibliothèque historique : contenant des mémoires et documens authentiques, inédits et originaux, pour servir à l'histoire proprement dite, à la biographie, à l'histoire de la littérature et des arts (1834)).

In the aftermath of the massacre on Champ de Mars, arrest warrants were issued against people deemed guilty for them. On July 22, the Moniteur reports that the journalists Suleau and Verrières have been arrested, and that the authorities have also fruitlessly gone looking for Fréron, Legendre, Desmoulins and Danton, the latter three, the journal assures, having already left Paris. Camille hid out at Lucile’s parents’ country house in Bourg-la-Reine together with Fréron, while Danton went to Arcis-sur-Aube, where he was sheltered by his friend Courtois, and then to Troyes (it’s also commonly stated he went to England during this period, but Hampson expresses some doubt over it). If Camille’s fellow journalist Louis Marie Prudhomme’s Histoire générale et impartiale des erreurs, des fautes et des crimes commis pendant la Révolution (1797) is to be believed, on August 14, Danton told Camille and Fabre d’Églantine: the ”b.... won't have me; rather they will all be exterminated first.”

The rather flimsy charges against Danton and Camille — Danton was accused of having cheered on a crowd demanding Lafayette’s head on June 21, Camille of having made incendiary remarks at Café Procope café, saying that it was necessary to shoot the national guards — were however dropped after about six weeks, and in September 1791 they were both back in Paris to stand for election to the Legislative Assembly. Neither did however get in. Camille had also had to resign as journalist in the aftermath of the massacre on Champ-de-Mars.

In Histoire des Montagnards (1847) Alphonse Esquiros writes that Albertine Marat had told him that her brother, Danton and Desmoulins ”liked to come together, from time to time, to rest their souls in the sweet serenity of nature”:

In this contrast of the noise of revolutions with the silence, with the serious serenity of a sunset, under the trees, at the water's edge, a league from Paris, the three friends then had before their eyes the two faces eternal aspects of the world, history and nature, God in movement and God at rest. Danton, this eloquent thunderbolt, this large head of a genius on which smallpox had left big marks, Danton ordered dinner. Whatever efforts one agreed to make during the frugal meal, to keep irritating subjects out of the conversation, one was obliged to go there at dessert; because the company was too preoccupied with the dangers of the State not to mix public affairs with their most personal conversations.

When the question of war in December 1791 became the main topic of discussion, both Danton and Desmoulins joined the minority that cautioned against it. Already on December 16, right after Brissot had held his very first speech in favour of the idea, Danton, while praising the speaker as an excellent patriot, objected to the thought of a war right at the moment — ”I want us to have war; it is essential. We must have war. But above all, we have to exhaust the means that could save us from it.” Ten days later, December 26, Desmoulins did him too deliver a speech against war. Four days after that, after Brissot had just finished his second speech on the subject, Danton and Robespierre both demanded a change be made to a passage when it got printed. Following this moment, it would however appear Danton abandons the question. Camille on the other hand released the pamphlet Jean Pierre Brissot démasqué in February 1792, mocking Brissot and painting him as a fool. Danton’s name got mentioned three times throughout, Camille calling him and Robespierre ”the best citizens.” Danton also got mentioned a total of eight times in the journal La Tribune des Patriots Camille and Fréron published from April to June the very same year, but not in any way that could give us more insight into their relationship.

In her memoirs, Manon Roland claims that Danton and Fabre d’Églantine in the summer of 1792 often came home to her. At one point Fabre told her that “We have a newspaper project which we will call Compte rendu au Peuple souverain, and which will present the picture of the last revolution. Camille Desmoulins, Robert, etc, work on it.” Manon suggested they bring it to her husband for him to subsidise it, something which the two apparently never did, and there was no more talk of the journal again.

On June 23 1792 Lucile starts keeping a diary. The first time any of the Dantons show up in it is already on Wednesday June 27 — ”Madame D(anton) came, we played music.” A few days later Lucile gives this rather odd account: ”My head is spinning. I was madame D(anton) after dinner.” The day after that, July 6, she gives birth to her first child, and a week later, Camille writes to tell his father that said child ”was immediately sent to a wetnurse in Isle-Adam, with the little Danton” (François-Georges, born February 2 1792). If Camille and Lucile made a conscious choice of sending their son to the same wetnurse as Georges and Gabrielle’s (perhaps on the suggestion of their friends) one can only speculate in.

A week after Camille wrote his letter, Lucile traveled to her parents’ country house in Bourg-la-Reine. On July 25 Camille writes to tell her that ”I was brought to Chaville this morning by Panis, together with Danton, Fréron, Brune, at Santerre’s” (letter cited within Camille et Lucile Desmoulins: un rêve de république). Lucile returned to Paris on August 8. In a diary entry written four months later she reveals that she, in the afternoon of August 9, together with others went over to the Dantons. ”Her mother was crying, she was sad, her father looked dazed. D(anton) was resolute. As for me, I was laughing like a madwoman! They feared that the affair [the insurrection of August 10] would not take place; although I was not at all sure, I told them, as if I knew it well, that it would take place. “But can we laugh too?” mde D(anton) said to me. ”Alas, I said to her, that presages to me that I will perhaps shed a lot of tears this evening!” At the end of the day, Lucile, Gabrielle (and others?) go home to Gabrielle’s mother to go for a walk and eventually sit down next to a cafe with her. When groups of sans-culottes and troops on horseback pass by, Lucile gets scared and tells Gabrielle that they should go. ”She laughed at my fear, but by dint of telling her, she too became scared and we left. I say to her mother: ”Farewell! You will soon hear the toscin sound!” The two go back to Gabrielle’s apartment, where a scared Lucile eventually admits to Camille she doesn’t want him to get involved in the dangerous insurrection — ”He reassured me by telling me that he would not leave D(anton).” Lucile and Gabrielle are soon left alone in the apartment with Louise de Kéralio-Robert, but after only a little while Danton returns home and goes to bed. This eventually upsets Louise who tells Lucile that if her husband dies in the insurrection she will stick a knife in Danton. ”From that moment on I never left her. What did I know what could happen? To know what she was capable of…” Some additional time later Camille returns to the apartment and falls asleep on Lucile’s shoulder. Louise tells her that “I can’t stay here any longer! Madame D(anton) is unbearable to me, she seems to be calm, her husband does not want to expose himself!” Lucile therefore suggests she come with her and Camille to their apartment to get some rest. When they around noon go back to the Dantons’ place again ”Madame D(anton) ran up to us to see how we were, she was soon informed when she saw the silence of one and the tears of the other. We waited long enough without knowing anything. Finally they came to tell us that we were victorious.” In a letter to her mother penned down the very same day, Lucile, similarly to how she described them during the Flight to Varennes, writes: ”Mme Danton and I do not leave each other, when I would have liked to flee it would have been impossible, the women are kept from going out.” The following night Camille and Lucile sleep over at the Roberts. When Lucile returns home on the 12th she learns that Danton has been appointed minister of justice. ”These news gave me great pleasure, especially when C(amille) came to tell me that he was secretary.” One day later Camille writes a letter revealing the very same news to his father:

My friend Danton has become minister thanks to the canon. This bloody day could only end, for the two of us especially, in being raised or hoisted together. He said to the national assembly: If I had been defeated, I would have been a criminal. The cause of liberty has triumphed, and Danton has associated me to his triumph.

According to Prudhomme’s Histoire générale et impartiale… (1797), it was Camille and Fabre themselves who three o’clock in the morning announced to Danton that he had been named minister of justice, after which they demanded he make them his secretaries:

”But, are you sure that I am appointed minister?” [said Danton].  “Yes,” replied the two midshipmen; and we will not leave you until we have your word for these two places.” ”Right on time,” said Danton. And everything was arranged according to the wishes of the two revolutionary patriots; but all this does not praise their disinterestedness.

After Camille and Danton had gotten their new occupations, both families briefly went to live at Hôtel de Bourvallais. Lucile writes:

I really liked it there, but only one thing bothered me, it was Fréron. Every day I saw new progress and didn’t know what to do about it. I consulted Maman, she approved of my plan to banter and joke about it, and that was the wisest thing to do. Because what to do? Forbid him to come? He and C(amille) dealt with each other every day, we would meet. To tell him to be more circumspect was to confess that I knew everything and that I did not disapprove of him; an explanation would have been needed. I therefore thought myself very prudent to receive him with friendship and reserve as usual, and I see now that I have done well. Soon he left to go on a mission. I was very happy with it, I thought it would change him. But many other cares to be taken… I realized that D(anton)… Oh, of that one, I was suspicious! I had to fear the eyes of his wife with whom I did not want to be hurt. I did so well that one did not know that I had noticed it, and the other that it might be. We spent three months like this quite cheerfully. At the end of this time C(amille) was appointed deputy and we returned to our first home.

Somewhere during Camille and Danton’s time in the ministry we find the following undated letter ”from the minister of justice to citizen Desmoulins, national commissioner in Vervins” (Camille’s father). Charles Vellay, who published the letter in 1792, did however find it more likely for the author of the letter, unlike what the header leads you to believe, was Camille, seeing as it is in a secretary’s handwriting and the letter was found among his and not Danton’s papers:

I am pleased to learn, Citizen, that yielding to the wishes of your compatriots, you have accepted the position of Natal Commissioner at the Vervins District Tribunal. You could undoubtedly desire some rest after the long fatigues you have had and the feeling which invited you to retire was very legitimate; but it was worthy of your good citizenship to still make the sacrifice for your country, and I am convinced that it was not in the midst of the agitations which precede the most beautiful of centuries that you would have left without regret a career where you you still have services to render to public affairs for a long time to come. It is not fair, however, to forget that the more you redouble your efforts, the more it is in your fellow citizens' interest to prescribe reasonable limits for yourself, and it is also your duty to moderate your zeal and not to forbid you these considerations which can be reconciled with public service and the care of your health. Your colleagues will themselves urge you to give nature the moments of relaxation it needs; a few temporary absences can be infinitely useful to you, and certainly they will not harm the interests of business if some attention is given to the circumstances and replacement measures. I will approve the first of wise precautions which I feel the necessity of and sure of my attachment to your duties I will rely with confidence on your respect for this moral responsibility as sacred as the will of the laws to true republicans.

Danton would however not remain minister of justice for a long time, already on August 26 Camille reported to his father that:

It seems that several departments will nominate me and especially Danton [to the National Convention], and he will not hesitate for a moment to leave the ministry to be representative of the people. You can imagine that I would follow an example that I would have given him, if I were in his place. Danton is from Paris no more than I am, and it is a remarkable thing that among all the principal authors of the revolution and among all of our friends, we perhaps do not know a single one who was born in Paris.

However, before the opening of the National Convention, the so called September Massacres took place. In l’Histoire générale et impartiale des erreurs… (1797) Prudhomme attributed big responsibility for the prison killings to both Danton and Desmoulins, portraying them as aware of what was going to happen already on September 2, the day before they began:

September 2, at midday, I go, hearing the noise of the tocsin and the cannon of alarm, to my section de l'Unité.  People came to announce that the barriers had been closed. A general consternation was painted on all faces. At the news of the arrival of the Prussians in Paris, as well as of a conspiracy of the prisoners against the patriots (a vague rumor had been circulating about it for fifteen days), a number of citizens questioned me on this subject.  ”Your profession as a journalist should enable you to know something,” one said to me.  ”I know nothing,” I responded, ”but I’m going to visit someone who could tell me.” As I knew Camille Desmoulins since a long time back, I thought it a good idea to go to his house. I didn’t find him anywhere, one assured me that he was at Danton’s, minister of justice. It was about half past two in the afternoon, I went home to the minister, and told him: ”I have come, in the quality of pure patriotism and in my own name, to ask you what this canon of alarm, this toscin and the arrival of the Prussians to Paris.”  ”Calm down, old friend of liberty,” Danton responded, ”it’s the toscin of victory.”  ”But,” I told him, ”people talk about slitting throats.”  ”Yes,” he told me, ”we were all about to have our throats cut this night, starting with the most patriotic. All those arisocrat rascals, who are in the prisons, had been provided with firearms and daggers. At a specified time next night, the gates were to be opened to them; they would have spread in different quarters to cut the throats of the wives and children of the patriots who will leave to march against the Prussians. We addressed ourselves principally, above all, to those who had demonstrated the principles of freedom.” ”All this comes off as a bit made up to me,” I responded, ”but what means are to be employed to prevent the execution of such a plot?” ”What means?” he said. ”The People, irritated and instructed in time, want to do justice themselves to all the bad subjects inside the prisons.” At these words I was seized with horror; I told him that such a measure appeared to me unworthy of a people who claimed to be free. At this moment, Camille Desmoulins entered.  ”Hello there!” Danton said to him. ”Prudhomme just asked me what is to be done.  ”Yes,” I said, ”and I am heartbroken after what I have just heard. ”So you (tu) didn’t tell him that one won’t mix up the innocent with the guilty? Camille said to Danton. ”All those who will be claimed by their sections will be returned.”  ”Seems to me that we could take a less violent measure,” I responded. ”Spilling blood is an abominable act of which those who govern are responsible. The people will one day make those who make them commit this crime pay dearly. Let Paris march en masse against the Prussians. Send the wives and children of those who are to march at the enemy out of Paris to avoid them getting massacred by the prisoners, let us lock them up in fortified castles.”  ”Any kind of moderate measure is useless,” Danton said. ”The anger of the people is at its height, there would even be danger in stopping it.” His first anger assuaged, one could make him listen to reason.  ”But,” I say, ”if the Legislative body and the constituted authorities spread themselves through Paris, and harangued the people?” ”No, no,” replied Camille, ”that would be too dangerous; for the people, in their first wrath, might make victims in the person of their dearest friends.” I withdrew filled with pain. 

Exiting Danton’s house, Prudhomme adds:

As I passed through the dining room, I saw the wives of Camille, Danton, Robert, etc, Fabre-d'Eglantine, and other guests. I did not know what to think of the tranquility that reigned at the house of the Minister of Justice; everything led me to believe that it was indeed impossible to stop the resentment of the People, at the news of a conspiracy hatched by the nobles and priests. 

The next day, Prudhomme also claims that Théophile Mandar went over to Danton’s place, where he saw ”all ministers, with the exception of Roland, Lacroix, president [of the Assembly], Pétion, mayor of Paris, Robespierre, Camille-Desmoulins, Fabre d’Églantine, Manuel and several members of the so-called Commune of August 10. The presidents and commanders from each of the 48 sections had come as well.” Half past seven in the evening everyone sat down in Danton’s salon to discuss the means to save Paris, Danton staying firm in his conviction of what had just happened and was still happening as necessary.

On September 8, two days after the end of the massacres, the time had come for Camille to be elected to the National Convention. He did at first come under question for his friendship with the royalist journalist François Suleau, killed in the Insurrection of August 10. The journal Gazette nationale de France does however report that Camille after this ”was defended with a lot of energy and eloquence by M. Danton and his election was almost unanimous.” With that, Desmoulins became the sixth elected deputy representing Paris (Danton was the second).

In December 1792, Lucile returns to keeping a diary. On the 22nd she writes: ”I went to supper with little Brune at mde D(anton’s). How detestable she is!” It’s hard to tell if it’s Gabrielle or madame Brune she designates as detestable, and even harder to know what she had done in order to get called that… Two days later, December 24, Lucile documents the following:

We had dinner at mde D(anton's), mde R(obert), B(rune) and B(oyer) were there. After dinner the men asked themselves if they should go to the Jacobins. They said yes. We were asked if we would go. We say no. Madame D(anton) said to me: ”do you (vous) want to spend the evening with me?,” I said yes, but soon I did not know what to do. Brune suggested I go to the theater! It was very embarrassing. Madame Brune said aloud: “I have never been to the Jacobins, I would be very happy to go there.” "Well, I'm going with you," I tell her. Finally, here we are, all ready to leave, when I see Mme Brune and Boyer whispering in each other’s ears. I, like a fool, go to ask them what they’re saying to each other. Mde R(obert) told me that she was very embarrassed, that she would like to go with us to the Jacobins. I was very kind, I said a few words to her that meant nothing, then I went into the antechamber. She came there soon and told me to wait for her, that she was going to follow me, she came back near madame D(anton). Brune came and told me “let’s go”. I followed her saying: ”but mde R(obert) who wants to come?” Finally, we are hardly in the middle of the staircase when we hear someone who says “here they are, here they are!”, then we descend with astonishing speed, and when we are in the street we run even harder. We took a fairly long detour. God knows how we laughed! Nothing, too, was more comical.

Throughout the first two halves of January, Lucile goes to the Convention to follow the trial of Louis XVI every single day. If Gabrielle went with her to these sessions is not confirmed, but not disproven either. Danton was absent on a mission in Belgium for most of the trial, but on January 14 he returned to Paris and two days later he voted for death, just like Camille. One day after the execution of the king, January 22 1793, Lucile writes: ”I went to Robert’s. Danton came there. His jokes are as boorish as he is. Despite this, he is a good devil. Madame Ro(bert) seemed jealous of how he teased me…” Two days later she witnesses the funeral procession of the recently assassinated Michel Peletier from the window of Jeanne-Justine Boyer, an event which moves her deeply. Once all her guests have left for the evening ”I felt that I could not be alone and bear the horrible thoughts that were going to besiege me. I ran to D(anton’s). He was moved to see me still pale and defeated. We drank tea, I supped there.” A week later, January 29, Lucile reports that ”we had dinner at D(anton's), where I just laughed, because I was preventing Brune from eating by saying "poa, poa, poa". D(anton) too couldn't keep himself from laughing.” Four days after that, February 3, Lucile writes ”I went to see madame Danton. Sick.” Three days later, she goes back to see her friend — ”I went to see madame Danton… She is very ill.” Yet another three days later Lucile writes ”Madame Danton is ill. She has given birth to a girl.” and at last, the day after that: ”I had dinner with Maman. Madame Danton is dead.” Two days after the death of her friend, Lucile goes to visit Gabrielle’s mother together with madame Brune and Robert. Shortly after that, she and Camille do however leave for Essonne, the latter having been apointed to a mission there, while Georges returned to Paris after another mission in Belgium to receive the sad news. Lucile did however not forget about him, in a letter to her mother Annette dated February 16 she asks her to ”give us news regarding Danton.” Apropos of Annette eventually joining them in Essonne Lucile adds: ”I forgot to mention a facility that could be of use for you, it’s Danton’s carriage. No doubt he could still have it.”

On March 26 1793, Desmoulins and Danton were both elected for the so called Commission of Public Safety, alongside 23 others. The commission, which consisted of both fervent montagnards and fervent girondins, was however off to a rocky start, and already on April 6 it was put to death and replaced by the Committee of Public Safety. A little more than a month later, May 17, Desmoulins announced the release of his new pamphlet l’Histoire des Brissotins to the Jacobins. Danton’s name gets mentioned eleven times in it, but only one can be used to really say something about their relationship, and it’s when Camille on page 54 writes: ”Jérôme Pétion told Danton in confidence that ”what makes poor Roland saddest is the fact people will discover his domestic sorrows and how bitter being a cuckold is to the old man, troubling the serenity of that great soul.” This implies Danton went and shared Roland’s secret with Camille after Pétion had confided it to him. Two weeks later, on June 7, a ”member” is recorded to have voiced suspicion on Danton’s current sentiments — ”This deputy isn’t as revolutionary as he used to. He doesn’t come to the Jacobins anymore. He left me the other day to approach a general.” In response, Camille is recorded to have ”advocated Danton’s good citizenship.” In Lettre de Camille Desmoulins, député de Paris à la Convention, au général Dillon en prison aux Madelonettes released a few months later, Camille calls Robert Lindet, Robespierre and Danton ”the best citizens of the Convention.”

On October 30, 22 girondins were sentenced to death. In Les mysterès de la mère de Dieu dévoilès(1794) Joachim Vilate described a dramatic reaction from Camille’s part upon hearing the final verdict: ”hearing the juror's declaration, he suddenly threw himself into my arms, agitated, tormenting himself:”ah my god, my god, it's me who kills them: my Brissot dévoilé [sic], ah my god, it’s that which kills them.” If Dominique-Joseph Garat’s Memoirs of the revolution; or, an apology for my conduct, in the public employments which I have held (1795) are to be believed, Danton too was deeply moved by the fate of the girondins, to the extent it motivated him to, on October 12, ask for a leave of absence to go to Arcis-sur-Aube in order to recruit his health:

I could not convince myself that among all those who, since May 31, had retained great popularity, there was not one who did not still retain a little humanity, and I went to Danton. He was ill, it only took me two minutes to see that his illness was above all a deep pain and a great dismay at everything that was coming. ”I won't be able to save them (the girondins)”, were the first words out of his mouth, and, as he uttered them, all the strength of this man, who has been compared to an athlete, was defeated, big tears strolled down his face, whose shapes could have been used to represent that of Tartarus. […] When the fate reserved for the twenty-two [girondins] seemed inevitable, Danton already heard, so to speak, his death sentence in theirs. All the strength of this triumphant athlete of democracy succumbed under the feeling of the crimes of democracy and its disorders. He could only talk about the countryside, he was suffocating, he needed to escape from men in order to be able to breathe.

Danton’s absence did not go unnoticed. In a letter from Toulon written October 18, Fréron tells Lucile that ”I have been really worried about Danton. The public papers announce that he is ill. Let me know if he has recovered. Give him 1000 friendships from my part.” Through the next letter Fréron writes Lucile, dated December 11, we learn that Danton had a nickname within this inner circle of friends — ”I would like to have news of Patagon (Brune), Saturne (Duplain) and Marius (Danton).” It can be observed that Camille, as seen above, had likened Danton to Marius in Révolutions de France et de Brabant already in 1790.

Danton was however back in Paris again on November 22, when he is recorded to have spoken of ”the relief to be granted to abdicated priests” at the Convention. Two weeks later, December 5, he was accused of ”moderatism” by Coupé d’Oise for having opposed the suggestion of sending a group with a portable guillotine to Seine-Inférieure in order to deal with rebels fleeing the Vendée. Robespierre did however rise to defend Danton, saying that he had always seen him serve his homeland with zeal and ending by asking that everyone says what he sincerely thinks about Danton. Aside from Merlin de Thionville, who hailed Danton as the saviour of the republic, no one said anything, and Momoro therefore concluded this meant no one had anything to accuse Danton of. The discussion therefore ended with Danton embracing the president of the club amidst loud applause. Just two days later, the first number of Camille’s new journal, the Vieux Cordelier, was released. In the number, Desmoulins designates the session at the Jacobins on the 5th as the event that caused him to return to the journalistic pen: 

Victory is with us because, amid the ruins of so many colossal civic reputations, Robespierre’s in unassailed; because he lent a hand to his competitor in patriotism, our perpetual President of the “Old Cordeliers,” our Horatius Cocles, who alone held the bridge against Lafayette and his four thousand Parisians besieging Marat, who now seemed overwhelmed by the foreign party. Already having gained stronger ground during the illness and absence of Danton, this party, domineering insolent in society, in the midst of the most sensitive places, the most compelling justification, in the tribunes, jeering, and in the middle of the meeting, shaking its head and smiling with pity, as in the speech of a man condemned by every vote. We have won, however, because after the crushing speeches of Robespierre, in which it seems that talent grows in pace with the dangers of the Republic, and the profound impression he has left in souls, it was impossible to venture to raise a voice against Danton without giving, so to speak, a public quittance of guineas of Pitt. […] I learned some things yesterday. I saw how many enemies we have. Their multitude tears me from the Hotel des Invalides and returns me to combat. I must write. 

If Danton had a bigger role in the Vieux Cordelier than simply being part of the event that caused Camille to start writing it is debated. When Robespierre a little more than three months later was working out the dantonists’ indictment, he claimed that Danton had been the ”president” of the Vieux Cordelier, whose prints he had corrected and made changes to, and that Camille had been his and Fabre’s ”dupe.” In Memoirs of the revolution; or, an apology for my conduct… (1795) Garat claimed that Danton during his stay in Arcis-sur-Aube had been cooking up a ”conspiracy” with a goal to ”restore for the benefit of all the reign of justice and of the laws, and to extend clemency to his enemies,” and to which ”all of his friends,” including Desmoulins, entered into. In Histoire générale et impartiale des erreurs… (1797) Prudhomme claimed that Danton, Lacroix, Camille-Desmoulins and Fabre-d'Églantine made up a secret party wishing to overthrow the Committee of Public Safety, and that Camille, as part of this plan, got charged with a ”moral attack,” leading to the creation of the Vieux Cordelier. Danton’s friend Edme-Bonaventure Courtois wrote in Notes et souvenirs de Courtois de l’Aube, député à la Convention nationale (cited in La Révolution française: revue d’histoire moderne et contemporaine (1887), that ”it was in these painful moments that [Desmoulins] put to paper (in his Vieux Cordelier) the reflections that his indignation could no longer contain, and whose acrimony Danton, through his advice, softened in many places.” Finally, in  his Camille Desmoulins And His Wife: Passages From The History Of The Dantonists (1876), Jules Claretie included the following passage:

I know, through information given to me by M. Labat the elder, that one evening in that mournful summer of 1793, Danton and Camille Desmoulins had walked to the Cour du Commerce, along the Seine, by the quay des Lunettes, and, thinking of that 31st of May, which was to end in the events of the 31st of October, Danton pointed out to Camille the great river in which the rays of the sun, setting behind the hill of Passy, were reflected so vividly that the river looked like blood. ”Look,” said Danton — and, like Garat, Camille saw the tribune's eyes fill with tears — ”see, how much blood! The Seine runs blood! Ah! too much blood has been spilt! Come, pick up your pen again; write and demand clemency, I will support you!”

However, considering Robespierre’s notes had an interest in wanting to paint the ”dantonists” as a unified grupp (and perhaps also to absolve Desmoulins of some responsibility), while all the other testimonies were reported after the fact, its hard to be sure of anything. 

Danton went unmentioned in the rest of number 1, as well as number 2 (released December 10) of the Vieux Cordelier. When Camille on December 14 passed through the Jacobins ongoing scrutiny test, he regrettingly admitted that ”a well marked fatality willed that, among the sixty [sic] people who signed my wedding contract, I only have two friends left — Danton and Robespierre. All the others have emigrated or been guillotined.” In the Vieux Cordelier’s third number (released December 18), he wrote the following about Danton, apropos of underlining he was not asking for moderation:

In this duel between liberty and servitude, and in the cruel alternative of a defeat a thousand times more bloody than our victory, overruling the revolution therefore had less danger and was even better than remaining behind it, as Danton said, and it is necessary, above all, for the republic to secure the battlefield. […] Despite so many guineas (guinées) said Danton, name for me a single man strongly pronounced in the revolution, and in favor of the republic, who has been condemned to death by the revolutionary tribunal?

Danton went unmentioned again in number 4 (December 21), but in number 5 Camille brings him up seven times, writing that ”I said with Danton, that to outrage the revolution was less dangerous and even better than to remain within it; that, on the course taken by the vessel, it was better to approach the rock of exaggeration, than the sandbar of moderation,” insisting he has never ceased to ”conspire against the tyrants with Danton and Robespierre,” denouncing Hébert for having attacked him, Danton and nine other deputies and claiming to have heard Danton say that ”[Hébert’s] pipe resembles the trumpet of Jericho, when he has smoked three times around a reputation, it must fall of itself.” At one point he also accuses Barère of having discussed the arrest of Danton on June 2.

On January 7, Camille and Robespierre got into a fight at the Jacobin club after the latter had denounced the fifth number of Vieux Cordelier as counter-revolutionary, but insisting that its author had been ”led astray by bad company,” and therefore proposing that the Society forgive him and ”just” burn the latest numbers of the Vieux Cordelier. When Camille refused that ultimatum, exclaiming that ”burning isn’t answering,” the fight worsened until Danton stepped in to act as meditator between the two:

Danton: Camille mustn’t be frightened by the rather severe lessons Robespierre’s friendship has just given him. Citizens, let justice and cold-headedness always preside over our decisions. In judging Camille, be careful to not strike a deadly blow against the liberty of the press.

In a letter to Fréron dated January 13, Lucile regretfully reports that ”Marius is not listened to anymore, he loses courage and vigour.” Around the same time, her father was arrested and locked up in the Carmes prison due to a few objects decorated with fleurs-de-lys having been found in his home. On January 24 Camille protested against his arrest at the Jacobins, gaining the support of Bourdon d’Oise who asked that the Committee of General Security make a report about the case in three days. Danton did however object to this, but did make the more vague suggestion that ”the Convention consider ways to do justice to all the victims of arbitrary measures and arrests, without harming the action of the revolutionary government”:

I oppose the kind of distinction of privilege which would seem to be granted to Desmoulins' father-in-law. I want the Convention to deal only with general affairs. If we want a report for this citizen, we also need one for all the others. […] My colleague's complaint is fair in itself, but it would give rise to a decree unworthy of us. If we were to give priority, it would belong to citizens who do not find in their fortune and in their acquaintance with members of the Convention hopes and resources in the midst of their misfortune: it must be to the unfortunate, to the needy, that you should first hold out your hands. I ask that the Convention consider ways to do justice to all the victims of arbitrary measures and arrests, without harming the action of the revolutionary government. I would be careful not to prescribe the means here. I request the referral of this question to the consideration of the Committee of General Safety, which will consult with the Committee of Public Safety; that a report be made to the Convention, and that it be followed by a broad and in-depth discussion; because all the discussions of the Convention have resulted in the triumph of reason and liberty.

When Robespierre about two months later was preparing the dantonists’ indictment, he wrote that ”during this last visit [to my place], [Danton] spoke of Desmoulins with contempt. He attributed his deviances to a vice that is private and shameful, but absolutely foreign to the crimes of the conspirators to the Revolution. Laignelot was witness.” Robespierre used this as evidence Danton had ”an ungrateful and dark soul,” as he previously had ”highly recommended the last productions of Desmoulins.”

Both Danton and Camille were arrested in the night between March 30 and March 31. They were taken to the Luxembourg prison and placed in solitary confinement. On April 1, in his very last written letter, Camille regrettingly tells Lucile: 

How to believe that a few jokes in my writings, against colleagues that had provoked me, have erased the memory of my services! I do not disguise the fact that I die as a victim of these jokes and my friendship with Danton. I thank my assassins for letting me die with him and Philippeaux. And since my colleagues have been cowardly enough to abandon us and listen to calumnies that I don’t know, but must be the most vulgar, I can say that we die as victims of our courage to denounce traitors, and of our love for the truth. We can well carry this testimony with us, that we die as the last republicans.

It would however appear Lucile wanted to do something about the situation. We have the following anecdote published in Histoire de la Révolution française (1850) by Nicolas Villiaumé, which, as far as I’m aware, is the only known connection we have between the Desmoulins couple and Danton’s second wife Louise-Sébastienne Gély (married June 14 1793):

[After the arrest of Danton and Desmoulins] Lucile ran to Madame Danton to suggest that she come with her to go find Robespierre, ask him for an explanation, and recall the feelings of friendship which had attached him to their husbands. Madame Danton refused, saying that she wanted nothing from a man who had showed himself to be the enemy of her husband. (I obtained this particularity from Madame Danton herself, who was then pregnant. She gave birth fifteen days after Danton's death, but her child did not live.)

On April 2, Danton, Desmoulins and seven other deputies were brought from the Luxembourg to the Conciergerie prison. If Mémoires d’un detenu pour servir à l’histoire de la tyrannie de Robespierre(1795) by Honoré Riouffe are to be believed, the accused were kept in seperate cells here as well. He writes:

Danton, placed in a cell next to Westermann, didn’t stop talking, less to be heard by Westermann than by us. […] Here are some phrases I retained: […] ”What proves Robespierre is a Nero, is that he never spoke as kindly to Desmoulins as on the day before his arrest.”

Their trial began the very same day. For three days, the accused defended themselves (or at least tried to) against the charges of ”complicity with d'Orléans and Dumourier, with Fabre d'Eglantine and the enemies of the Republic, of having been involved in the conspiracy tending to re-establish the monarchy, to destroy the national representation and the republican government” side by side. It did however not go that well, and on April 5, Danton, Desmoulins and thirteen others were sentenced to death. The execution took place the very same afternoon. Contrary to the myth of Danton and Camille sitting next to each other in the same tumbril as they were driven to Place de la Révolution, number 561(April 6 1794) of Suite du Journal de Perlet reports that ”they were in three tumbrils: in the first was Danton, next to Delacroix; Fabre near the executioner; Hérault opposite Chabot. In the second, Phelippeaux [sic], Westermann, Camille Desmoulins, Basire and Launai d’Angers [sic]. […] Danton […]seemed to pay little attention to the crowd around him: he was chatting with Lacroix and Fabre. […]Desmoulins spoke almost continually to the people; the courage he affected seemed like a painful effort, he was an actor who was studying to play his last part well.”

After the death of Camille and, eight days later, Lucile, their son Horace was taken in by his maternal grandparents and aunt, who then permanently retired to their country house in Bourg-la-Reine. Danton’s sons Antoine and François-Georges were they too adopted by their maternal grandfather and uncles. In 1805, the two moved from Paris to Arcis-sur-Aube where they instead got looked after by their paternal grandmother. I have not been able to find anything indicating the families stayed in touch to process the grief or let the children come together, something which we on the other hand know Lucile’s mother did with Philippeaux’s widow.

[handfuloftime]

(A while ago @apurpledust mentioned wanting to know more about Duroc's children, so here's what information I have)

Duroc and his wife, Maria de las Nieves Martínez de Hervas, had two children, both of whom died tragically young. (Hervas left instructions that her gravestone should be engraved with "To the unhappiest of mothers".)

Their first child, Napoléon Louis Sidoine Joseph Duroc, was born on 24 February 1811 in Paris. Named for the emperor and his two grandfathers (Claude Sidoine de Michel du Roc and José Martínez de Hervas), he lived for just over fourteen months. The infant’s health was never good; Duroc wrote to Bertrand in March 1812 that “[Hervas] is doing well but her son has been and always is ill”. (As Duroc’s biographer Danielle Meyrueix notes, when writing of his wife and child he habitually referred to “her son” rather than “our son”. Perhaps not the most engaged of fathers.) Napoléon died on 6 May 1812 at Maidières in Lorraine. The architect Pierre Fontaine, noting in his journal that Hervas had asked him to design a tomb for her lost son, wrote that the child had been “a few days older than the King of Rome and destined to enjoy at that prince’s side all the favor with which the Emperor honored his father.”

Their daughter Hortense Eugénie Nieves Duroc was born on 14 May 1812, eight days after the young Napoléon’s death. (In a letter, Duroc implied that the news of the boy’s death had been kept from Hervas, who was in Paris, to avoid imperiling her health.) Named for her godmother, Hortense de Beauharnais, she was baptized in January 1813 alongside the duke of Bassano's daughter. After Duroc’s death in May 1813, Napoleon transferred the duchy of Friuli to her, writing to Hervas that Hortense would be “assured of my constant protection”. He also remembered her in his will, leaving her a large sum of money and recommending, in one last attempt at matchmaking, that she marry Bessières’s son, the duke of Istria. Hortense’s aunt wrote in 1823 that “Hortense is perfectly sweet, she’s a rare child for her spirit and intelligence, who her poor father would have been happy to see so fine in all respects”. She died of pneumonia on 24 September 1829 after three days of illness, aged seventeen.

A 1933 biography of Charles-Nicolas Fabvier (Hervas’s second husband) identifies this painting by Jeanne-Elisabeth Chaudet as a young Hortense Duroc. It was sold at an auction a few years ago with the title “Young Embroideress”, so either the sitter’s identity has been lost since then or it may never have been Hortense at all.

Duroc’s long liaison with the dancer Emilie Bigottini may also have resulted in at least one child. Felix Bouvier, writing a biographical sketch of Bigottini in 1909, claimed that “children were born of this irregular union, a daughter and a son named Odilon”. However, Odilon (full name Pierre Dominique Jean Marie Odilon Michel du Roc), born in 1801, was the son of Duroc’s cousin Géraud Pierre Michel du Roc, the marquis de Brion. On Duroc’s death, Napoleon made Odilon a page in the imperial household. (This may have given rise to Bouvier’s claim, as it seems to have confused people at the time. Caulaincourt had been tasked with sorting out Duroc’s affairs, including a substantial amount of money for Bigottini, and Duroc’s sister Jeanne implied that he had gotten the wrong impression from one of Duroc’s requests: “On the subject of the allowance for little Odilon, M. the duke of Vicenza was misled…he took a step which pained me very much”.) As for the daughter, all I’ve been able to find so far is a remark from Laure Junot that “It was known that the count Armand de Fuentès had had a daughter with Mademoiselle Bigottini, and that Duroc was in the same position”.

[thetorturedpoetsfest]

Welcome to Day 15 of The Tortured Poets Fest!

Click the links listed below to check out all of the content our lovely Tortured Poets have created for all of us today! (and go to our bio to access the rest of the AO3 Collection)

✍️ Running With My Dress Unbuttoned by the_casual_author

Ship(s): Andromeda Black Tonks/Ted Tonks

Rating: Gen

Summary:

Three days.

“You either marry Yaxely or there will be consequences. You know what they will be for your supposed lover.” Her father’s words were stern, and Andromeda feels sick as she recalls them.

She doesn’t have a choice.

Or: Andromeda is to be married. She'd rather do anything else.

🕯 Not If, But Which One by Lostinwond3rland @lost-in-wond3rland

Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black, James Potter/Regulus Black

Rating: E

Summary:

Dearest Readers,

Welcome back to the London social season. And what a special season it is turning out to be! It has come to this authors attention that the ever-elusive Black brothers will finally be returning from Paris to enter the fray of eligible young lords and ladies, looking to procure nothing but the most exceptional of matches. Will the now Duke of Grimmauld and Lord Black procure suitable matches? Will our two stars find counterparts as bright as they are? Or will they burn out, cutting their London stay short? This author is unsure as of yet, but is surely determined to find out.

Yours Truly, Lady Whistledown

** Grosvenor Square, 1813

The Black Brothers return to the London social season after quite some time away. Will our two shinning stars secure love matches while avoiding scandal? Or will they fall to the seduction of gossip mongers, uncouth desires, and unreasonable expectations?

Aka: Ye Ol' Gossip Girl with dead gay wizards 🗝 the manuscript by ghstboys @ghst-boys

Ship(s): Pansy Parkinson/Gilderoy Lockhart, Pansy Parkinson/Neville Longbottom

Rating: M

Summary:

When Draco leaves Pansy right before their wedding, she's heartbroken. Back in her hometown, she meets Gilderoy Lockhart, a handsome professor. But is it possible that he's not everything he seems?

📜 Home to You by @toofadedtofight

Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black

Rating: M

Summary:

Sirius commits a crime and Remus has to deal with the consequences.

“If I wrote to you, would you read my letters?” Sirius asked weakly, clearly unsure of where they stood on now. 

“Always, Sirius.”

🖌 Old habits by as_ter @astridblavk Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black, Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks

Rating: T

Summary:

A short-story inspired by Taylor Swift's song "The Black Dog"!!

Worried, Sirius immediately ran to him and crouched down in front of him. “What happened?” he asked, but the sandy-haired man seemed not to hear him. 

Or even if he did, he was very effectively ignoring him. 

“Remus!”

**************

Be sure to check our page for Day 16’s reveals! Until then, Tortured Poets <3

🩶 Your mods,@wolfpadx @multiimoments @heartsoncover @lemonlans @mercurial-witch @steveahoi damagecontrol & shewritesmaybe