thisbluespirit (
thisbluespirit) wrote in
rainbowfic2019-11-08 09:29 pm
Entry tags:
Acanthus #20 [Divide and Rule]
Name: Flowers by Candlelight
Story: Divide & Rule
Colors: Acanthus #20 (candlestick)
Supplies and Styles: Canvas
Word Count: 1000
Rating: G
Warnings: None.
Notes: 1903, 1912, 1928; Hanne Beck, Elizabeth Long, Harold Graves, Julia Graves, Christy Graves. (Hanne is Julia’s mother; Elizabeth is Edward’s.)
Summary: Hanne deals with the darkness by bringing light.
***
1903
Hanne brings flowers for Elizabeth, pressing them into her hands, her face alight with the joy of giving a present. She steps back and, laughing, gives a curtsey. “For you, miss,” she says. “Mother and Father say thank you.”
Her father puts a hand on her shoulder, looking over her to Elizabeth. “Yes, we are all grateful for your kindness to my family that first day – and, of course for the help with Hanne’s English.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth says to Hanne, smiling down at her. “These are beautiful.” Straightening up, she says to Hanne’s father, “Hanne is much quicker at her English than I am with my German. I’m very happy to continue, but I’m sure you should find someone more qualified.”
Hanne understands that; she instantly wraps her arms around Elizabeth, her hands grabbing at stiff, hard-wearing fabric, causing Elizabeth to stumble and knock the candlestick from the hall table. “But I don’t want someone else.”
“And that,” says her father, “is the important thing.”
Hanne’s seen too many changes lately, and it’s not only Elizabeth’s first kindness when they arrived that draws her. She feels instinctively that Elizabeth is constant, someone one can cling to; an upright light in the dark.
Hanne’s father picks the candlestick up from the floor, handing it back to Elizabeth with a bow, then taps Hanne lightly on the shoulder. “Time for your lessons, before you do any more damage, liebling.”
1912
Hanne ushers Mr Graves into the study, candlestick in hand. She fetches out an old leather-bound volume, depositing it gently on the desk, and setting the candle down at a careful distance from it. “Here it is. But Father didn’t steal it, you know. Not this time. It isn’t his fault at all.”
“So, how did he come by it?” asks Harold Graves, who at least expresses no disbelief. Hanne breathes easier again. “If it was not stolen, why is Mr Argyle complaining?”
Hanne leant back against the book case, the shelves pressing into her. “He lent it to Father – he gave it to me to give to him, so I know – but poor old man, he forgets so much of late. He didn’t remember what he had done and thought it was missing and, you see, Father quoted it in his most recent article. With Father away, I wasn’t sure how to answer him.”
“You’re certain he didn’t do it deliberately, to cause you trouble?”
Hanne stares. “Why ever should he?”
“Because,” says Harold Graves, and then shakes his head, giving a smile. “No reason, I’m sure. Thank you for calling on me, Miss Beck. I’ll do what I can. I think the first step is to return the book. Will your father mind, do you think?”
Hanne bites her lip. “He might. Mr Argyle did give it to him, and he was so very pleased with it. But I think you are right.”
“Your father can’t be as angry with me, I daresay,” says Harold, giving a nod. “Or he might, but there won’t be much he can do about it. Not to worry, Miss Beck.”
Hanne catches her breath, wondering why Mr Graves should be so kind. “You did say,” she reminds him. “That if anything like this should happen again, I was to tell you. You did mean it.”
“Yes,” he says, but she thinks there’s something almost regretful in his smile this time. “I told you, Miss Beck. You need a friend.”
1928
The power is out in their street, so Hanne gets ready by the light of a candle placed on the dresser. She doesn’t mind; it’s kinder than the electric, but with an eye to her young daughter watching her, she pushes the candlestick further out of reach.
Hanne gently lifts Julia’s hands from the jewellery and instead gives her a blue chiffon scarf to play with, setting her down on the bed.
“You look pretty,” says Julia, after nearly a minute of solemn study.
Hanne smiles into the mirror as she chooses her earrings. That done, and her outfit almost complete, she turns to hold out her arms to Julia, who half tumbles off the bed and across to embrace her.
“Oh, darling,” Hanne says, catching Julia’s grubby state more fully now that she’s closer to the light. She leads her back across to the bed and sits down beside her. “What have you been doing?”
Julia shifts into a more comfortable position. “My garden,” she explains. “Mr Keynes gave me some pansies for my patch.”
“How lovely,” says Hanne, kissing her fair curls. “You must show me one day soon.”
From downstairs in the hallway, she hears Harold raising his voice. He’s scolding Christy again, and Hanne sighs. Poor Christy. It isn’t his fault that he takes after her and has inherited so little of the solidity and steadiness of the Graves family. And while she doesn’t want for him any of their cold hard sense and stuffy Englishness, she wishes for all their sakes he could have been a little more like Harold.
“Christy’s in trouble,” sings Julia, kicking her legs against the side of the bed, unmoved by her older brother’s predicament. “Serve him right,” she adds. “He’s horrid.”
Hanne shakes her head. “Darling. Be kind.”
“He’s not. He stole my best ribbon and threw Dilly up a tree.”
Hanne blinks. “Good gracious. Did he? Who is Dilly? Is she hurt?”
“My Dilly,” says Julia, as if Hanne ought to know, and supposes it must be one of her dolls.
Hanne pats her knee. “Never mind, darling. I’m sure Dilly will recover.”
“She won’t,” says Julia darkly. “Her arm is broke and nobody can mend it.” She falls silent, listening with satisfaction to Christy’s comeuppance downstairs and then adds, more cheerfully, “I put it in a sling but it wouldn’t stay.”
Hanne stands, and orders Julia back to Nanny, with orders to be certain to wash thoroughly.
Time to rescue poor Christy, regardless of ribbons and dolls.
***
Story: Divide & Rule
Colors: Acanthus #20 (candlestick)
Supplies and Styles: Canvas
Word Count: 1000
Rating: G
Warnings: None.
Notes: 1903, 1912, 1928; Hanne Beck, Elizabeth Long, Harold Graves, Julia Graves, Christy Graves. (Hanne is Julia’s mother; Elizabeth is Edward’s.)
Summary: Hanne deals with the darkness by bringing light.
***
1903
Hanne brings flowers for Elizabeth, pressing them into her hands, her face alight with the joy of giving a present. She steps back and, laughing, gives a curtsey. “For you, miss,” she says. “Mother and Father say thank you.”
Her father puts a hand on her shoulder, looking over her to Elizabeth. “Yes, we are all grateful for your kindness to my family that first day – and, of course for the help with Hanne’s English.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth says to Hanne, smiling down at her. “These are beautiful.” Straightening up, she says to Hanne’s father, “Hanne is much quicker at her English than I am with my German. I’m very happy to continue, but I’m sure you should find someone more qualified.”
Hanne understands that; she instantly wraps her arms around Elizabeth, her hands grabbing at stiff, hard-wearing fabric, causing Elizabeth to stumble and knock the candlestick from the hall table. “But I don’t want someone else.”
“And that,” says her father, “is the important thing.”
Hanne’s seen too many changes lately, and it’s not only Elizabeth’s first kindness when they arrived that draws her. She feels instinctively that Elizabeth is constant, someone one can cling to; an upright light in the dark.
Hanne’s father picks the candlestick up from the floor, handing it back to Elizabeth with a bow, then taps Hanne lightly on the shoulder. “Time for your lessons, before you do any more damage, liebling.”
1912
Hanne ushers Mr Graves into the study, candlestick in hand. She fetches out an old leather-bound volume, depositing it gently on the desk, and setting the candle down at a careful distance from it. “Here it is. But Father didn’t steal it, you know. Not this time. It isn’t his fault at all.”
“So, how did he come by it?” asks Harold Graves, who at least expresses no disbelief. Hanne breathes easier again. “If it was not stolen, why is Mr Argyle complaining?”
Hanne leant back against the book case, the shelves pressing into her. “He lent it to Father – he gave it to me to give to him, so I know – but poor old man, he forgets so much of late. He didn’t remember what he had done and thought it was missing and, you see, Father quoted it in his most recent article. With Father away, I wasn’t sure how to answer him.”
“You’re certain he didn’t do it deliberately, to cause you trouble?”
Hanne stares. “Why ever should he?”
“Because,” says Harold Graves, and then shakes his head, giving a smile. “No reason, I’m sure. Thank you for calling on me, Miss Beck. I’ll do what I can. I think the first step is to return the book. Will your father mind, do you think?”
Hanne bites her lip. “He might. Mr Argyle did give it to him, and he was so very pleased with it. But I think you are right.”
“Your father can’t be as angry with me, I daresay,” says Harold, giving a nod. “Or he might, but there won’t be much he can do about it. Not to worry, Miss Beck.”
Hanne catches her breath, wondering why Mr Graves should be so kind. “You did say,” she reminds him. “That if anything like this should happen again, I was to tell you. You did mean it.”
“Yes,” he says, but she thinks there’s something almost regretful in his smile this time. “I told you, Miss Beck. You need a friend.”
1928
The power is out in their street, so Hanne gets ready by the light of a candle placed on the dresser. She doesn’t mind; it’s kinder than the electric, but with an eye to her young daughter watching her, she pushes the candlestick further out of reach.
Hanne gently lifts Julia’s hands from the jewellery and instead gives her a blue chiffon scarf to play with, setting her down on the bed.
“You look pretty,” says Julia, after nearly a minute of solemn study.
Hanne smiles into the mirror as she chooses her earrings. That done, and her outfit almost complete, she turns to hold out her arms to Julia, who half tumbles off the bed and across to embrace her.
“Oh, darling,” Hanne says, catching Julia’s grubby state more fully now that she’s closer to the light. She leads her back across to the bed and sits down beside her. “What have you been doing?”
Julia shifts into a more comfortable position. “My garden,” she explains. “Mr Keynes gave me some pansies for my patch.”
“How lovely,” says Hanne, kissing her fair curls. “You must show me one day soon.”
From downstairs in the hallway, she hears Harold raising his voice. He’s scolding Christy again, and Hanne sighs. Poor Christy. It isn’t his fault that he takes after her and has inherited so little of the solidity and steadiness of the Graves family. And while she doesn’t want for him any of their cold hard sense and stuffy Englishness, she wishes for all their sakes he could have been a little more like Harold.
“Christy’s in trouble,” sings Julia, kicking her legs against the side of the bed, unmoved by her older brother’s predicament. “Serve him right,” she adds. “He’s horrid.”
Hanne shakes her head. “Darling. Be kind.”
“He’s not. He stole my best ribbon and threw Dilly up a tree.”
Hanne blinks. “Good gracious. Did he? Who is Dilly? Is she hurt?”
“My Dilly,” says Julia, as if Hanne ought to know, and supposes it must be one of her dolls.
Hanne pats her knee. “Never mind, darling. I’m sure Dilly will recover.”
“She won’t,” says Julia darkly. “Her arm is broke and nobody can mend it.” She falls silent, listening with satisfaction to Christy’s comeuppance downstairs and then adds, more cheerfully, “I put it in a sling but it wouldn’t stay.”
Hanne stands, and orders Julia back to Nanny, with orders to be certain to wash thoroughly.
Time to rescue poor Christy, regardless of ribbons and dolls.
***

no subject
Which just made my brain go "Shame if something were to... happen to it," thanks, brain.
Anyway I really do love this.
no subject
She has two! Er, had two. Christy is the most fun, though, on the occasions I let him survive, because neither he nor Edward ever know quite what to do with each other.