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what's a mob to a queen?

Summary:

They are drawn into the mob almost on accident, lured by the loud noise.

Notes:

I do not own Marie Antoinette the musical; all rights go to Michael Kunze and Sylvester Levay.

Any historical inaccuracies found in the fic are entirely my fault.

The only excuse I have for this story is that plot bunnies bite very, very hard when the work day is slow.

Requests to contact me on other social media sites (Discord, Instagram, etc) or to request comics of my works will be reported and blocked on sight.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

They are drawn into the mob almost on accident, lured by the loud noise. It's a welcome distraction from the desperate hunger in their belly.

A killing must have happened, judging from the cheers.

They see something thrust high into the air triumphantly soon after, impaled with force upon a long stick of wood. It sways with jerky movement from whoever holds it aloft. The moonlight reveals a headless corpse, clad in a shiny bloodstained gown.

Good, another member of the bourgeois has fallen.

The mob draws more people, who bring torches with them, and there's a fierce scramble as something is kicked around. Soon it sails through the air--A head! A severed head!--and it lands in a dark alley. It is quickly forgotten as the mob moves on, running purposely towards the Conciergerie.

And they join in, jostled by the skinny bodies and ragged clothes. It feels like a festival, except there is nothing sunny and cheerful. It is fiery and bloodstained, celebrated with desperation and anger.

Someone starts singing as the mob enters the Conciergerie, the lyrics soon becoming incomprehensible as more and more people join in. But they know it is about the Austrian Bitch, and they gladly join in. Angry words do not fill an empty stomach, but they foment enough rage and adrenaline to forget for a while.

Outside the prison, the headless corpse is raised with purpose. The stick is passed from person to person as they march outside the windows, intent on finding someone or something to display the corpse to.

“There she is!” someone screams.

The Austrian Bitch herself has looked out of the window. The corpse is hefted up, lifted by a trio of skinny men, and the limbs sway like a rag doll as it is shaken wildly from side to side like a fleshy flag. The corpse is a warning of what will happen if the mob gets their hands upon her.

They are too far away to see her reaction, but whatever she did has incited the mob even further. A man has started singing a new song, one that everyone else echoes in screeches and shrieks like a pack of mad dogs. The ugly discordant lullaby seems to echo through the empty courtyard for miles.

They let themselves get carried away by the euphoria and the madness of it all, screaming themselves hoarse until dawn.

Notes:

There are lyrics to the lullaby mentioned in the story, in which the rioters sing a morbid lullaby for Marie Antoinette while parading Marie Thérèse Louise of Savoy's corpse outside her window, but I purposely left them out.

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