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rainbowfic2019-11-15 09:36 pm
thisbluespirit) wrote in rainbowfic2019-11-15 09:36 pm
Acanthus #9 [Divide & Rule]
Name: Upright to the Core
Story: Divide & Rule/Heroes of the Revolution
Colors: Acanthus #9 (fireplace poker)
Supplies and Styles: Seedbeads
Word Count: 1017
Rating: PG
Warnings: For murderous thoughts, perhaps?
Notes: 1901, 1928, 1949; Daisy Long, Elizabeth Long, Hanne Beck, Julia Graves.
Summary: Daisy’s true blue and will never stain.
***
1901
Daisy’s curled up on the sofa with a rug over her, reading her way through The Moonstone, her current surroundings forgotten.
“Barley water,” says Elizabeth, causing her to start as she puts a glass down beside her on a small table. “Don’t forget to drink it.” She sighs and heads over to the fireplace, picking up the poker. “I did tell you not to let the fire die down. You mustn’t get cold, or you’ll wind up with pneumonia.”
Daisy wriggles against the chair. “Sorry. I was reading.”
“What else?” says Elizabeth, her thin face lightening with a smile for her younger sister. She pulls herself up from the fireside and puts a hand against Daisy’s forehead. “You’re not feverish, at least.”
Daisy nods. “I’m much better, and it was only the ‘flu. I’m just all washed out.”
“I know, darling,” says Elizabeth, and she sits back down on the rug in front of the fire. “Do I fuss too much? Only I do worry – because I’m not Mother, and perhaps I will miss things she wouldn’t have –”
Daisy sits up, disregarding her weakness in indignation, and drops her book. “Lizzie, no! You’re a brick!”
Elizabeth laughs and squeezes Daisy’s arm before she leaves the room, reminding her yet again to drink the barley water and not to let the fire go out, no matter how exciting her novel might be.
1928
The brass poker catches Daisy’s eye and she tightens her fingers into a fist, nails pressing into her palm. “I thought about killing him,” she announces as Hanne returns with coffee and a plate of lemon biscuits. “I could have done it – picked up the poker and –” She mimes bringing it down on his head, and then sighs. “I didn’t, of course.”
Hanne only puts the tray down on the table and sits down opposite, giving her a sympathetic smile. She doesn’t ask who Daisy means. “It would be lovely if someone could, but not you, Daisy, not like that. They would have hanged you for it.”
“I know,” says Daisy. “And it’s not as if I’m particularly bloodthirsty as a rule, but when I think of that Hugh Taylor –” Her words trail away and her mouth snaps into a sour line. “Well,” she says. “Well.”
Hanne offers her a biscuit, and then sits back again. “Poison would be better.”
“It isn’t funny,” Daisy returns, and takes a biscuit, examining it abstractedly. “And I know, I know, this is Elizabeth’s choice and therefore not all his doing, but –”
But, she thinks and her fingers itch again with the memory of how possible it would have been. The poker would have been sufficient. And if she’d been hanged, wouldn’t it have been worth it? Elizabeth and Edward would have had each other again, and they were probably the two dearest people in the world to her.
Hanne only watches her in silent sympathy, and eventually says, simply, “Poor Elizabeth.”
Daisy breathes harder and has to blink back tears she would never deign to shed in front of anyone, grateful for that. Too many other people have taken to blaming Elizabeth, which is only natural, but Daisy knows her older sister. There must be a reason for it all.
She glares at the poker. “Damn the man,” she says, and bites hard into the biscuit.
1949
“I wanted to have a word,” Daisy says to Julia Graves, leading the way in through the cluttered hallway, past the bicycle and the coat rack and her collection of umbrellas. “In here – that’s right.”
Julia glances about her with interest as Daisy shuts the door behind them, and ushers her into an upright upholstered chair. Julia sits and then gets up again with a cry and after a moment excavates both the poker and a tin of shortbread.
“I swear those things breed,” says Daisy of the shortbread, taking it and opening it up, before offering it back to Julia, who shakes her head. She puts it down on the sideboard and the poker with it. “And I’m sorry. I put that there because it’s not so easy to kneel down at the grate these days. I suppose I should get some new-fangled heater.”
Julia sits back down, and shifts on the chair cushion. “I take it you have questions.”
“Oh, no,” says Daisy hastily, finally understanding the younger woman’s nerves. “I haven’t brought you here to harangue you. Edward is more than old enough to make his own decisions, as are you, I’m sure. I only wanted to say that if you ever need somewhere to run to, you’re welcome to come to me.”
Julia blinks and then puts her hand to her mouth, but she can’t conceal her laughter and ceases trying after a moment, leaning helplessly against the chair. When she collects herself, she asks, “Why, whatever do you suppose Edward is going to do to me?”
Daisy frowns. “Nothing, I trust. It was only that – well, I know you don’t have anyone else here, not any more. Marriage isn’t easy, even when –” She gives a short shrug, since she doesn’t know the details of whatever has brought on this hole and corner match between Edward and Julia. She waves a hand. “Well, it isn’t. So, I thought I’d offer.”
“That’s very kind,” Julia says, leaning forward. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh, only I thought – I was afraid – well, it must seem strange to you all. But I promise, I’d never mean to hurt Edward.”
Daisy nods. It’s nice to hear, even if it isn’t really her business. She can breathe a little easier again. No matter how hard one tries to be sensible and unsentimental, one worries nonetheless.
“Thank you,” Julia adds. She rubs at her eyes. “Oh, dear, now you’ll have me blubbing again.”
“I was very fond of your mother, you know. We all were,” says Daisy. “I liked your father, too, come to that, although I don’t think he approved of me. Sensible sort of man.”
She doesn’t understand why Julia laughs again.
***
Story: Divide & Rule/Heroes of the Revolution
Colors: Acanthus #9 (fireplace poker)
Supplies and Styles: Seedbeads
Word Count: 1017
Rating: PG
Warnings: For murderous thoughts, perhaps?
Notes: 1901, 1928, 1949; Daisy Long, Elizabeth Long, Hanne Beck, Julia Graves.
Summary: Daisy’s true blue and will never stain.
***
1901
Daisy’s curled up on the sofa with a rug over her, reading her way through The Moonstone, her current surroundings forgotten.
“Barley water,” says Elizabeth, causing her to start as she puts a glass down beside her on a small table. “Don’t forget to drink it.” She sighs and heads over to the fireplace, picking up the poker. “I did tell you not to let the fire die down. You mustn’t get cold, or you’ll wind up with pneumonia.”
Daisy wriggles against the chair. “Sorry. I was reading.”
“What else?” says Elizabeth, her thin face lightening with a smile for her younger sister. She pulls herself up from the fireside and puts a hand against Daisy’s forehead. “You’re not feverish, at least.”
Daisy nods. “I’m much better, and it was only the ‘flu. I’m just all washed out.”
“I know, darling,” says Elizabeth, and she sits back down on the rug in front of the fire. “Do I fuss too much? Only I do worry – because I’m not Mother, and perhaps I will miss things she wouldn’t have –”
Daisy sits up, disregarding her weakness in indignation, and drops her book. “Lizzie, no! You’re a brick!”
Elizabeth laughs and squeezes Daisy’s arm before she leaves the room, reminding her yet again to drink the barley water and not to let the fire go out, no matter how exciting her novel might be.
1928
The brass poker catches Daisy’s eye and she tightens her fingers into a fist, nails pressing into her palm. “I thought about killing him,” she announces as Hanne returns with coffee and a plate of lemon biscuits. “I could have done it – picked up the poker and –” She mimes bringing it down on his head, and then sighs. “I didn’t, of course.”
Hanne only puts the tray down on the table and sits down opposite, giving her a sympathetic smile. She doesn’t ask who Daisy means. “It would be lovely if someone could, but not you, Daisy, not like that. They would have hanged you for it.”
“I know,” says Daisy. “And it’s not as if I’m particularly bloodthirsty as a rule, but when I think of that Hugh Taylor –” Her words trail away and her mouth snaps into a sour line. “Well,” she says. “Well.”
Hanne offers her a biscuit, and then sits back again. “Poison would be better.”
“It isn’t funny,” Daisy returns, and takes a biscuit, examining it abstractedly. “And I know, I know, this is Elizabeth’s choice and therefore not all his doing, but –”
But, she thinks and her fingers itch again with the memory of how possible it would have been. The poker would have been sufficient. And if she’d been hanged, wouldn’t it have been worth it? Elizabeth and Edward would have had each other again, and they were probably the two dearest people in the world to her.
Hanne only watches her in silent sympathy, and eventually says, simply, “Poor Elizabeth.”
Daisy breathes harder and has to blink back tears she would never deign to shed in front of anyone, grateful for that. Too many other people have taken to blaming Elizabeth, which is only natural, but Daisy knows her older sister. There must be a reason for it all.
She glares at the poker. “Damn the man,” she says, and bites hard into the biscuit.
1949
“I wanted to have a word,” Daisy says to Julia Graves, leading the way in through the cluttered hallway, past the bicycle and the coat rack and her collection of umbrellas. “In here – that’s right.”
Julia glances about her with interest as Daisy shuts the door behind them, and ushers her into an upright upholstered chair. Julia sits and then gets up again with a cry and after a moment excavates both the poker and a tin of shortbread.
“I swear those things breed,” says Daisy of the shortbread, taking it and opening it up, before offering it back to Julia, who shakes her head. She puts it down on the sideboard and the poker with it. “And I’m sorry. I put that there because it’s not so easy to kneel down at the grate these days. I suppose I should get some new-fangled heater.”
Julia sits back down, and shifts on the chair cushion. “I take it you have questions.”
“Oh, no,” says Daisy hastily, finally understanding the younger woman’s nerves. “I haven’t brought you here to harangue you. Edward is more than old enough to make his own decisions, as are you, I’m sure. I only wanted to say that if you ever need somewhere to run to, you’re welcome to come to me.”
Julia blinks and then puts her hand to her mouth, but she can’t conceal her laughter and ceases trying after a moment, leaning helplessly against the chair. When she collects herself, she asks, “Why, whatever do you suppose Edward is going to do to me?”
Daisy frowns. “Nothing, I trust. It was only that – well, I know you don’t have anyone else here, not any more. Marriage isn’t easy, even when –” She gives a short shrug, since she doesn’t know the details of whatever has brought on this hole and corner match between Edward and Julia. She waves a hand. “Well, it isn’t. So, I thought I’d offer.”
“That’s very kind,” Julia says, leaning forward. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh, only I thought – I was afraid – well, it must seem strange to you all. But I promise, I’d never mean to hurt Edward.”
Daisy nods. It’s nice to hear, even if it isn’t really her business. She can breathe a little easier again. No matter how hard one tries to be sensible and unsentimental, one worries nonetheless.
“Thank you,” Julia adds. She rubs at her eyes. “Oh, dear, now you’ll have me blubbing again.”
“I was very fond of your mother, you know. We all were,” says Daisy. “I liked your father, too, come to that, although I don’t think he approved of me. Sensible sort of man.”
She doesn’t understand why Julia laughs again.
***
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