Title: Two letters
Fandom: RPF
Historical Characters: Frederick II of Prussia / Hans Hermann von Katte
Rating: pg14
Warning: slash, angst
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# Sfiga Fandom Fest @ Fanworld with prompt RPS Town, Frederick II of Prussia / Hans Hermann von Katte
A / N: All this stuff should be historically accurate (as the fact that I is documented on Wikipedia in uf Deutsch could understand me because as usual, but after whistles for flasks google translate everything helps).
At the material time Frederick was eighteen years old, Hans twenty-six.
"The fat man is the father of Frederick (he was referring to him really well in the letters!), King Frederick William.
Oh, and Jacopo Ortis (ie Foscolo, but as always says the prof. Is practically the same thing) is the culprit, let this be known. I do not assume any responsibility
Fortress Küstrin, November 5, 1730
My carisssimo Hans,
in these painful hours you're the only one from which I want comfort, yet it is your absence to be filled with pain. Unfortunately there are
I think I can fool enough to have this letter, yet I can not help but write.
Hans, Hans, my beloved friend!, Where my choices have led us ill? It was indeed, as claimed by the fat, groped cowardice which leads us to escape? I do not know anymore. Yet I still watch the texts that kindled in the hope of a change, I resume the words of the French philosophes and I seem to feel even the heroic thrust, that longing for freedom. See? Our country is so cramped that even I, the son of kings, are deprived of freedom. I was first and foremost they are now accompanied by the heavy footsteps of the guards outside my door.
And you, my Hans? How will you now? In no way I could hear from you. Are you locked up in this hideous fortress?
both threatened to death, the king, that crazy, but do not dare. Even its hardness can go that far, right? Not against his own son and a man of your rank! Yet, yet if it were, I smile because I would die happy to Executioner with you. Oh, see you one last time, even at the cost of life! But no, it's better that way. Parted, but we will live, live. You will live!
Who knows, maybe when I will be king ... if it ever will be ... Perhaps, then ... But no, it is useless to me now with m'illuda already distant hopes. Farewell, farewell, Hans.
Oh, not having embraced one last time to say hello! No, no. I'd seen in some of tears if I had to say goodbye looked at each other, and I would have liked.
Remember when we made the decision to leave? Remember, so far as exasperated as I was always exaggerated, prostrate, and full of hate? "Discipline, discipline, and because of the greater glories of our country," he used to say, hateful man. Prevented me from even reading and playing the flute!
wanted to escape to be free and now we are more prisoners than before, and I regret the previous state of things. What bizarre change of perspective, is not it? These same considerations are holding company to you now, if I know your love for this kind of speculation.
You, alone among all the soldiers who join our nobility, you alone are able to think and understand the philosophy. Go mad if I can no longer talk to ...
enough, I'll burn these sheets, that no one desecrates this silent farewell, that fire him face up to the sky-
Fortress Küstrin, November 7, 1730
Oh, Hans!
You ... dead?
I could not believe it if I had not seen with these eyes.
That vile, dared, dared how! "King", calls himself, but is nothing but a cruel tyrant that binds men to him with fear. But I will not bend on your memory I swear I will, I will not be like him!
on your memory ... Already memory rather than reality? I do not think possible. I think I'll see you in a moment, or that you are still, far away from me, and I seem to feel that your tossetta still puzzled about when you listen to those old noble mold believed to be the most perfect expression of humanity. I then turn to you with my lips in a tight line to keep me smiling.
Yet now I find it impossible to smile. How it works? I forgot. There is nothing able to throw off the state in which they are killing.
How am I going to play again when I know every tune I remember your smile and your eyes closed while listening to happy? Your life, your precious life, so wasted! Nature is expected to create entirely new sounds and agonizing as any human being has ever conceived, and only then, perhaps, there would be a suitable music to this day and all those who are without you.
I tried to pray, I can not. Perhaps this is a punishment of the Almighty for our sins.
Lord of all things, why, why you have given the man a heart capable of love if it causes so much pain? And why let it go against the dictates of your own? Myself before Hans was perhaps a test, as was the apple to Adam and Eve? Alas, I failed, and always bring his weight, always asking for forgiveness.
But repent, O my God, I can not.
regret loving you, Hans, it seems a terrible blasphemy.
Yet it was for love that progettasti with me that fateful flight. Ah, I kill thee! With those same hands, those hands that caressed You got adoring, trembling with emotion, with these hands, I dropped the ax on your neck, your pretty white neck, always so straight and proud, that I loved to kiss and bite as a joke .
Hans! Why'd you have me love you, cruel?
Despairing of divine comfort, hating the human, I turned to philosophy. If philosophy is really learning to die, you left us with a peaceful spirit. But not much study has taught me to see you die.
How can I believe that there may still be good in humanity after seeing what a father did to her child? Yes, I refuse to call him father, and yet bears his name and his seed were the result of the curse. Would have been better if I had never left the womb of my mother!
But no, because then it t'avrei ever known and I never knew what it was happiness. And if there is joy in heaven, is nothing compared to what I felt in your arms.
yet, had never been born, you would live again and maybe you'd be happy. Had never been born, I would have had to endure even this pain, cruel man could even this: show me your performance.
I have not taken his eyes to the end, dear friend. All my courage I used it for you, but is to me enough to stay on my feet. Alas, what a shame! Luck would have it, you were to look not to the small window which had been pushed.
not seen you in the supreme moment. You walk, his shirt open on his chest and his eyes still fierce. I fell on the cold stone before he fell too, beloved.
reopened my eyes I saw the same black sky yesterday's fatal day, and ran to the desk. No, I can not bear to know you lost! ", And then I write.
The fat man wanted to execute me as well, but Charles of Habsburg did not believe that suited him to miss the heir to the throne.
Ah! I despised death, by your side. But now I want it yet I'm afraid. Reach ... see you again, even in hell ... But you, my beloved Hans, I do not want. I know that if you try something again where you are, you sorry for my pain. So you'd like to see me become a man, and one day, perhaps, a just ruler. But I just do not know if my heart, if I can not hate the man, every man who has what to me was torn.
After all, it tastes so sweet surrender ... almost as much as your lips. Remember? Memories still amazed when I discovered the sweet torments of love and you gently guide me? Not two years have passed and it is already a past of reach.
Basta. I can not let the memories sink. Goodbye, Hans.
Goodbye.
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