Terpsichore | Τερψιχορη (danceoflife) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2013-04-08 00:04:00 |
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Current mood: | hungry |
Who: Terpsichore and Natalia (Russian!Terpsichore), open to Euterpe
What: He's gone, but never forgotten
When: Monday evening
Where: Montmartre Cemetery, Paris
Usually, when Terpsichore visited Paris, it was a happy occasion, full of shopping and sightseeing, wine tasting and good food, and she always left with her heart a bit lighter than when she'd arrived. But not today. No, she hardly ever smiled on April 8th, because it reminded her of one of the worst days of her life. 63 years ago today, she'd gotten the news that Vaslav had died, and it had felt like someone had punched her in the stomach. She'd known this was coming, everyone knew. But that still didn't make it hurt any less.
It had been Natalia (though she'd been Anna at the time) who'd called her, woken her up at 3 in the morning. "He's gone, golubchik." That was all she'd said, and Terpsichore was suddenly wide awake. She hadn't seen Vaslav since she'd arrived in America, but she knew that Natalia kept an eye on him, his health was poor and they both loved him. It was reflex to them.
"When?" she managed to ask at last.
"About an hour ago," came the heavy reply. "They said he went peacefully."
Terpsichore could feel tears pricking the corners of her eyes. "I'm going to get a flight," she said. "I'll be there as soon as I can."
That had been 63 years ago, and though the pain had eased with time, it still hurt. She'd genuinely loved Vaslav, loved the way he moved, the way he could do things no one else could. She loved everything about him. If he'd asked her to marry him, she would have said yes. But it hadn't happened that way, and she'd made peace with that a long time ago.
The sun was low in the sky as she entered Montmartre, the cemetery was mostly empty this late in the afternoon. She knew the path to the tomb by heart, and was not at all surprised to see Natalia already there.
As she approached she heard Natalia say, "Вы были блестящими, вы знаете. Никто не мог двигаться, как вы.*" She looked up as Terpsichore got closer, smiling sadly. "Six decades have passed, and sometimes it's still hard to believe," she said, standing up.
"I know," Terpsichore said quietly. "Sometimes I hate the fact that we live so long."
Natalia turned to look at her, hair streaming behind her in the breeze. "So maudlin, Дорогая моя.^"
"I forgot his birthday," Terpsichore said bitterly. "And that made me feel like I'm forgetting him. I felt terrible." She looked down at the ground, at the statue of Petrushka, anywhere but at her double.
Natalia grasped her chin with two fingers, tilting her head up until their eyes met. "Don't be silly," she said firmly. "You're here, aren't you? You honor his memory, don't you? And you loved him, didn't you? You'll never forget, Дорогая моя^. Neither of us will."
Terpsichore sniffed, trying not to cry. "I just miss him," she whispered.
"Da, I know," Natalia said, pulling her into a hug and stroking her hair. "We both do. Crying is not a weakness, возлюбленный^^. We mourn so that we can heal. It's natural."
In an empty cemetery in Paris, as the sunset stained the sky red and gold, two Muses, separate, but the same, held each other, silently shedding tears for a man they'd loved.
* You were brilliant, you know. No one could move like you.
^ My dear.
^^ sweetheart