viceindustrious (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
viceindustrious) wrote2010-09-01 01:23 am
viceindustrious) wrote2010-09-01 01:23 am
Fic: Luminiferous Aether
Title: Luminiferous Aether
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes 2009
Pairing: Blackwood/Coward
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing
Summary: Daniel thinks the personal touch still counts for something in family matters like these.
Word count: 1217
Notes: From this thread in the Comment!fic War
We are both so dearly looking forward to seeing Elizabeth.
He dips his pen into the ink well and signs his name with a flourish that takes up most of the bottom half of the page: Daniel Blackwood HR.
The stationary arrived from the Lothians merely a week ago, Daniel felt it was time for a change and he thinks the new design is just so very darling. The paper is thick, embossed at the top with little flecks of gold. Blackwood's crest, the crest of England now of course, has been hand printed at the top in a fine, looping sweep of dark purple and bronze filigree.
He writes to his uncle, requesting the presence of his youngest cousin at court. He supposes one might argue that request is not quite the right word, but Daniel would not agree. They have every option to refuse. If they wish to risk Daniel's displeasure? Well that would be their choice.
The nib glides smoothly over the paper stock. It's pleasant to follow etiquette, Daniel thinks, to keep matters civilized. Henry and he are not monsters after all. No matter what people may whisper behind closed doors.
If people would only be reasonable there'd never be any trouble at all. Coward hums cheerfully as he slips the letter into its envelope.
-
Elizabeth Coward is a sweet English rose, just turned twenty years old. She has Daniel's eyes, that faraway sky blue that waxes and wanes with the light. Her hair sweeps gently over her temple in the same dark chestnut, her skin has been poured from the same fair pail of cream.
Your bones, Henry murmurs, caressing the architecture of Daniel's face, drawing his fingers along the blueprints of Daniel's veins, elbow to wrist.
The fear that fogs her gaze and dulls her cheeks ashen is all her own. She curtsies so low to the floor that her little velvet hat falls from the top of her head and lands at her feet. Daniel thinks it's funny that she doesn't seem to notice. She doesn't bother to pick it up, just stands there shaking, her fingers twisting in her skirts.
She won't embrace him when he strides across the hall to greet her, arms open wide, beaming. She won't even look at him. Daniel's smile falters, begins to flicker on his face and he's sure he can feel one of his moods coming on (little tempests, Henry calls them fondly) but then Henry is there at his side, soothing.
Oh, Daniel, he murmurs, drawing him into his arms. She's perfect.
Elizabeth gasps when Daniel turns in Henry's embrace and kisses him. Her heels clatter on the floor as she stumbles back. Daniel laughs against Henry's mouth, hand on the small of Henry's back, he feels like he could dance.
-
Daniel had been afraid that jealousy might make a wreck of him, but when it comes to it, he finds he isn't jealous at all. Henry touches Elizabeth with a kind of reverence that's blind to who she is, that sees only her function. One time while she is trembling on the bed, her eyes squeezed shut, Henry bends his head and kisses her eyelids.
I hope it has your eyes, he says to Daniel.
It's his eyes that Henry looks into when he's attending to Elizabeth. Daniel is with them every night until she finally quickens with Henry's child. With their child. No, he could never be jealous. The intimacy of those moments has stopped his breath at times. This act of creation has left him feeling dazed and weightless and almost fearful that he may be dreaming.
In the last few weeks of her pregnancy Daniel finds it difficult to keep himself away from her room. Each day that passes seems to buoy his heart up further, he can't stop smiling. He grants a pardon to the barber who'd nicked his cheek while trimming his beard and claps his hands over Henry's astonishment.
When people give congratulations they almost always note how he is glowing.
They treat Elizabeth well for the sake of the treasure she keeps in her belly. Strict bed rest. No excitement. Henry only raises his hand to her once.
Most of the time she is complacent, she lays in bed with her eyes focused on nothing at all, calm as an empty lake. Daniel wouldn't wonder that terror has frozen those waters for good, so silly, staring wide at Henry as if he were a demon come to carry her to hell. It won't harm the baby though, he's sure. Henry and he have wrapped it up in all their thoughts of love, it will be bundled up just fine in this vessel that carries it.
He presses his ear to her stomach, stroking the marvellous fullness that rounds her flesh. It knows its father is here, doesn't it? Giving a little kick against his hand. He whispers to his son or daughter, telling it to hurry along now, that everyone is waiting to adore it.
Elizabeth bursts into tears. Or perhaps she'd been crying silently the whole time and only now has the grief begun to choke her into sound. Daniel starts, stares up at her aghast as she weeps, her body racked with deep, broken sobs. He asks her to stop. He demands that she stop but she only howls and Daniel has to flee from the room, hands pressed over his ears.
When Henry sees how upset he is, well. Daniel had not been able to stop him from dealing her a short, sharp lesson in good manners.
-
The birth is a . . . a difficult affair.
Daniel has rearranged the memory slightly, carefully painted out the worst out it. He talks about the anticipation, not the fear and certainly not the screams. Elizabeth had been in hysterics when the doctor handed the baby to Daniel, but it's easy to forget that ugliness. Holding his little girl for the first time had filled him with such a shining joy that it dazzles the rest of that day from view.
Their baby girl. Victoria Henrietta Blackwood. The Princess Victoria. Nothing will ever be denied to her.
He wants Elizabeth dead. He has seen the way she looked at his daughter, of course she mustn't ever be allowed to touch her. Henry argues that they may want another child and it is only this that spares her the night of Victoria's birth.
But Daniel gets his first wish a week later when Elizabeth throws herself out of her bedroom window, three stories up out of sight and mind, and breaks her bone china neck on the courtyard stone.
Watching Victoria cradled in Henry's arms, rocked back and forth with a tender hesitance as newborn as their daughter herself, Daniel wonders if it's possible to be too happy. Henry is murmuring a lullaby and it is a long time before Daniel can pull his gaze back down to the letter in front of him.
He signs his name, an invitation to his uncle to attend Victoria's christening at Westminster Abbey. Henry says he should delegate such trifles now there is a child to look after, but Daniel thinks the personal touch still counts for something in family matters like these.
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes 2009
Pairing: Blackwood/Coward
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing
Summary: Daniel thinks the personal touch still counts for something in family matters like these.
Word count: 1217
Notes: From this thread in the Comment!fic War
We are both so dearly looking forward to seeing Elizabeth.
He dips his pen into the ink well and signs his name with a flourish that takes up most of the bottom half of the page: Daniel Blackwood HR.
The stationary arrived from the Lothians merely a week ago, Daniel felt it was time for a change and he thinks the new design is just so very darling. The paper is thick, embossed at the top with little flecks of gold. Blackwood's crest, the crest of England now of course, has been hand printed at the top in a fine, looping sweep of dark purple and bronze filigree.
He writes to his uncle, requesting the presence of his youngest cousin at court. He supposes one might argue that request is not quite the right word, but Daniel would not agree. They have every option to refuse. If they wish to risk Daniel's displeasure? Well that would be their choice.
The nib glides smoothly over the paper stock. It's pleasant to follow etiquette, Daniel thinks, to keep matters civilized. Henry and he are not monsters after all. No matter what people may whisper behind closed doors.
If people would only be reasonable there'd never be any trouble at all. Coward hums cheerfully as he slips the letter into its envelope.
-
Elizabeth Coward is a sweet English rose, just turned twenty years old. She has Daniel's eyes, that faraway sky blue that waxes and wanes with the light. Her hair sweeps gently over her temple in the same dark chestnut, her skin has been poured from the same fair pail of cream.
Your bones, Henry murmurs, caressing the architecture of Daniel's face, drawing his fingers along the blueprints of Daniel's veins, elbow to wrist.
The fear that fogs her gaze and dulls her cheeks ashen is all her own. She curtsies so low to the floor that her little velvet hat falls from the top of her head and lands at her feet. Daniel thinks it's funny that she doesn't seem to notice. She doesn't bother to pick it up, just stands there shaking, her fingers twisting in her skirts.
She won't embrace him when he strides across the hall to greet her, arms open wide, beaming. She won't even look at him. Daniel's smile falters, begins to flicker on his face and he's sure he can feel one of his moods coming on (little tempests, Henry calls them fondly) but then Henry is there at his side, soothing.
Oh, Daniel, he murmurs, drawing him into his arms. She's perfect.
Elizabeth gasps when Daniel turns in Henry's embrace and kisses him. Her heels clatter on the floor as she stumbles back. Daniel laughs against Henry's mouth, hand on the small of Henry's back, he feels like he could dance.
-
Daniel had been afraid that jealousy might make a wreck of him, but when it comes to it, he finds he isn't jealous at all. Henry touches Elizabeth with a kind of reverence that's blind to who she is, that sees only her function. One time while she is trembling on the bed, her eyes squeezed shut, Henry bends his head and kisses her eyelids.
I hope it has your eyes, he says to Daniel.
It's his eyes that Henry looks into when he's attending to Elizabeth. Daniel is with them every night until she finally quickens with Henry's child. With their child. No, he could never be jealous. The intimacy of those moments has stopped his breath at times. This act of creation has left him feeling dazed and weightless and almost fearful that he may be dreaming.
In the last few weeks of her pregnancy Daniel finds it difficult to keep himself away from her room. Each day that passes seems to buoy his heart up further, he can't stop smiling. He grants a pardon to the barber who'd nicked his cheek while trimming his beard and claps his hands over Henry's astonishment.
When people give congratulations they almost always note how he is glowing.
They treat Elizabeth well for the sake of the treasure she keeps in her belly. Strict bed rest. No excitement. Henry only raises his hand to her once.
Most of the time she is complacent, she lays in bed with her eyes focused on nothing at all, calm as an empty lake. Daniel wouldn't wonder that terror has frozen those waters for good, so silly, staring wide at Henry as if he were a demon come to carry her to hell. It won't harm the baby though, he's sure. Henry and he have wrapped it up in all their thoughts of love, it will be bundled up just fine in this vessel that carries it.
He presses his ear to her stomach, stroking the marvellous fullness that rounds her flesh. It knows its father is here, doesn't it? Giving a little kick against his hand. He whispers to his son or daughter, telling it to hurry along now, that everyone is waiting to adore it.
Elizabeth bursts into tears. Or perhaps she'd been crying silently the whole time and only now has the grief begun to choke her into sound. Daniel starts, stares up at her aghast as she weeps, her body racked with deep, broken sobs. He asks her to stop. He demands that she stop but she only howls and Daniel has to flee from the room, hands pressed over his ears.
When Henry sees how upset he is, well. Daniel had not been able to stop him from dealing her a short, sharp lesson in good manners.
-
The birth is a . . . a difficult affair.
Daniel has rearranged the memory slightly, carefully painted out the worst out it. He talks about the anticipation, not the fear and certainly not the screams. Elizabeth had been in hysterics when the doctor handed the baby to Daniel, but it's easy to forget that ugliness. Holding his little girl for the first time had filled him with such a shining joy that it dazzles the rest of that day from view.
Their baby girl. Victoria Henrietta Blackwood. The Princess Victoria. Nothing will ever be denied to her.
He wants Elizabeth dead. He has seen the way she looked at his daughter, of course she mustn't ever be allowed to touch her. Henry argues that they may want another child and it is only this that spares her the night of Victoria's birth.
But Daniel gets his first wish a week later when Elizabeth throws herself out of her bedroom window, three stories up out of sight and mind, and breaks her bone china neck on the courtyard stone.
Watching Victoria cradled in Henry's arms, rocked back and forth with a tender hesitance as newborn as their daughter herself, Daniel wonders if it's possible to be too happy. Henry is murmuring a lullaby and it is a long time before Daniel can pull his gaze back down to the letter in front of him.
He signs his name, an invitation to his uncle to attend Victoria's christening at Westminster Abbey. Henry says he should delegate such trifles now there is a child to look after, but Daniel thinks the personal touch still counts for something in family matters like these.
no subject
*squeals happily* OMG OMGOMG THERE IS JUST SO MUCH WIN I CANNOT STOP THE FLAILAGE! LIKE OMGOMGOMG!
THROUGHOUT THE WHOLE THINGS IT'S ALL EERIE AND YOU KNOW THIS GIRL IS SCARED, BUT COWARD IS SO FREAKING ADORABLE AND HE AND HENRY ARE SO IN LOVE WE DON'T EVEN CARE ABOUT THIS STUPID GIRL! AND SHE SHOULD TOTALLY BE GRATEFUL AND JUST OMG THIS IS SO FANTASTIC!
LITTLE TEMPESTS! OH COWARD WOULD HAVE HIS TANTRUMS AND HENRY JUST SOOTHES HIM THROUGH THEM AND OH THE LOVE AND OH COWARD OH COWARD! WHY SO ADORABLE?!
I CAN'T EVEN EXPRESS MY LOVE OF THIS FIC! I THINK THIS IS ANOTHER VICE FIC THAT WILL BE SAVE TO THE ARCHIVE THAT IS MY COMPUTER! TO KEEP FOREVER AND EVER AND SNUGGLE HAPPILY WITH!
no subject
Thank you for the squeals! And look! It is happy ending! I CAN leave the boys happy, see? See?
I think it's brilliant how you do not even care about this poor girl at all. Tut tut. She is a victim! You are so heartless!