French Revolution AU

Note: The first drabble in what seems like ages... For 's "Historical AU" challenge.

Change the World

William knows his duty. He is patroling the streets of Paris, looking for aristocrats trying to escape the justice of the People. Now is the time to be alive, he thinks. Now is the time when a commoner like him can make a difference. Can change the world.

Hearing furtive footsteps approach, William stops and waits.

It's a young man who peers around the street corner, much too well-dressed for a citizen. There is fear in his eyes, and William knows that this is his chance.

But he can't move. Something in the young man's eyes has changed his world.


Dominic runs through Paris' nighttime streets.

He wishes desperately to have been born to another age, another station, another country. The time of idle pleasures has gone. His birth, always his greatest privilege, has become his worst enemy. His beloved country the one place where he doesn't want to be.

He has finished with France.

Someone is waiting for him around the next corner, and Dominic knows he's been caught. Scared to death he looks into the guardsman's face. Feet frozen from something other than fear, he stares into startling green eyes.

Maybe France has not finished with him yet.


William has never felt anything like this before. His mind is screaming at him to move, do his duty, for his country, his cause. But he can't.

When he does finally find his voice again, it is hardly more than a whisper. "What's your name?" He almost adds "sir" -- old habits die hard.

The young man hesitates, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Resolve shines in his eyes, and William swallows. And then he is on his knees suddenly, fingers scrambling for the fastening of William's pants.

"Dominic..." he whispers, his breath hot on William's flesh.

William shivers.


Fear is coursing through Dominic's body, and something else, unexpected, searing and hot. He has felt similar before --mostly with pretty page boys or cute servant girls-- but never like this, never this intense, this urgent. This familiar.

Dominic should think of ways to escape. Instead he loses himself in what is supposed to be an enemy's face. There is confusion there, but also kindness, and something smoldering and irresistible.

"What's your name?" the stranger asks, his voice shaky, but with a velvety undertone that makes Dominic shiver. He looks once more into the green eyes and makes his decision.


Later, William won't be able to put into words why he threw away everything he had fought for for a pair of shining eyes and the whisper of a name. It's not something explainable in a world that's now supposedly ruled by Reason.

But when the Revolution starts eating Her children, William will survey the rough country they settled in, its simple, hardy people, wearing their strange costumes and speaking their own language proudly. He will also look at Dominic, whose body is lean and whose hands rough from hard work -- and he will know that sometimes, Reason isn't everything.


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