♡ו.Historical Figures Oneshots(FR et ANGL).•×♡

𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐈 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞? (𝐄𝐍𝐆)

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DISCLAIMER!! NAPOLEON BONAPARTE X ALEXANDER I.

Characters: Napoleon Bonaparte of France and Tsar Alexander I of Russia.

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27 September - 14 October, 1808.

"More wine, Sire?"

Napoleon blinked at the servant in front of him and waved his hand in dismissal.

"No. No, thank you."

The young man bowed apologetically and left the Emperor of the French with his musings once again. It was the Weimar ball, a grand evening of dances and laughter among the political talks of the Congress, but still Napoleon found he did not enjoy it as much as he thought he would, watching all these swirling couples while he sulked in his chair with a plate of hors-d'oeuvre.

He returned his gaze to a tall handsome man in a dazzling uniform that was so tight-fitting, he seemed unable to relax. But Alexander danced gracefully all the same, sweeping another young duchess in his embrace, putting on his charming well-trained smiles. Napoleon felt acutely that he lacked that sort of grace, the one the real blue-blooded monarchs seemed to have, groomed to be in the public eye from birth. He'd much preferred a battlefield to a dance floor.

When he left for Erfurt two weeks ago he couldn't deny the excitement he felt about getting to spend more time with Alexander. The memory of Tilsit was still fresh in his mind, and Napoleon was certain that whatever problems arose between them since then could be easily solved with another tête-à-tête and a new treaty. The majority of the Russian princes who had hurried to the dazzling spectacle of Erfurt were little more than spectators, at the very most bit-part players to the summit between the two powerful emperors who had divided up Europe at Tilsit in 1807.

Motivated by the changing face of European geo-politics, Alexander and Napoleon both sought this summit as a necessary compliment to that which had been decided at their first meeting, on the banks of the Niemen, fifteen months previously, resulting to a ball as a celebration.

He spared no expense on extravagant gifts for the Russian sovereign or the entertainment, inviting all crème de la crème of the European society, including Goethe and the entire Comedie Française who would stage popular French plays every evening. Not that he made it on time to any of them with Alexander keeping him company.

The two Emperors would often arrive together, fashionably late and exchanging knowing glances throughout the performance like a pair of naughty school boys. And while their relationship seemed most fraternal, the same could not be said of their political alliance. The Tsar was stalling again, making excuses, making promises he was already struggling to keep.

"People like us, we don't belong to ourselves." Alexander told him once, with a forlorn expression that made him seem much older than he was, "We carry the responsibility for our nations, and the title always comes before the person."

No matter how much they liked each other, they both knew it was impossible for their relationship to not be political, devoid of strings and hidden agendas. But since they first met Napoleon enjoyed chipping away at Alexander's careful facade, dragging the real person out of him bit by bit. Surprising him with a crude joke, making him laugh, even flirting with him, seeing him pout in annoyance. He almost took a certain pride in seeing glimpses of a man who was famous for his masks. And Alexander would open up sometimes, tell him stories, like how his father used to make him march with a garrison in his Gatchina estate for hours, and how his left ear was hard of hearing after a cannon went off next to him unexpectedly. Napoleon always made sure to walk and sit to his right after that, an attentive gesture others might not have noticed, but Alexander did.