thisbluespirit (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thisbluespirit) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rainbowfic2024-10-26 06:20 pm
thisbluespirit) wrote in rainbowfic2024-10-26 06:20 pm
Twilight #19 [Divide & Rule]
Name: Nameless
Story: Divide & Rule
Colors: Twilight #19 (Nameless)
Supplies and Styles: Paint-by-numbers frombookblather (Caroline after the divorce) + Canvas + Graffiti - October Challenge (Fictober prompt #23 "we can fix this, I know we can.")
Word Count: 520
Rating: G
Warnings: Mentions of religion, guilt, divorce.
Notes: 1938; Caroline Aldridge, Diana Foyle.
Summary: Caroline's not sure who she is any more.
Caroline had dreaded going through with the divorce. She still believed it was wrong—that marriage should be forever.
When the Decree Absolute came through, there had been little fanfare, barely even a whisper of the infamy Caroline had expected. People who didn't know stopped on occasion and sympathised with her about Edward's behaviour, and she could hardly put them right.
"Be glad," said Diana when Caroline tried to explain. "If I'd got rid of Stephen, I'd be throwing a party."
Caroline put down her wine glass so sharply the liquid splashed up against the rim, only narrowly missing a spillage on Diana's carpet. "Diana! Really."
"Being free of Edward is less of a victory, I'll admit—but you didn't want to stay together the way you were, did you?"
Caroline gazed unseeing at the vine like patterns on the wallpaper. "Not truly—and I do know so much of it was my fault. But this—this was Ned's plan, not mine. I never wanted this."
"What about Jack?"
Caroline rose, crossing to stand by the mantelpiece. She twisted the silver bracelet on her wrist around and back again. There was Jack, but she couldn't possibly go to him yet. It was too soon. Perhaps never would still be too soon. She had not yet made up her mind how she felt about this piece of lawyer's paper ability to override solemn vows made in church.
She was caught in between everything. She was neither truly Caroline Iveson any longer, nor had she returned to being Caroline Aldridge, and she certainly could not yet be Caroline Sheldon. She swallowed. "Poor Jack. It's unconscionable of me to make him wait so long. But there. So was deserting Ned."
Caroline put her hand to her mouth, and blinked away tears.
"Caro," said Diana, standing and moving over to put an arm around her shoulders. "Don't cry again, darling. I know you would have liked things to be different, but this is finally a new beginning for everyone. And tomorrow, you are going to see Jack."
"Oh, no. We haven't arranged anything."
"Which is why I did," Diana told her, and squeezed her hand. "I knew I couldn't leave it to you. You have a talk with him—see how he feels."
Caroline turned. She gave a nod. "Of course." The guilt remained, but the thought of seeing Jack again so soon made the world immediately brighter. She looked at Diana, her brow creasing. "But Edward—do you think he will be all right?"
"Never mind about Ned," said Diana. "He is perfectly capable of looking after himself. Be entirely selfish, at least for a little while. I promise you, everyone will be much happier if you can."
"It doesn't seem fair," Caroline murmured, her fingers fluttering on the edge of the mantelpiece.
Diana shrugged. "Life isn't."
"It ought to be," said Caroline. "One should—try and make it so." She hesitated, and turned around. "Is Jack truly coming here tomorrow?"
"Cross my heart and hope to die," said Diana.
Taking on a new name—Sheldon—was perhaps not so impossible after all.
Story: Divide & Rule
Colors: Twilight #19 (Nameless)
Supplies and Styles: Paint-by-numbers from
bookblather (Caroline after the divorce) + Canvas + Graffiti - October Challenge (Fictober prompt #23 "we can fix this, I know we can.")Word Count: 520
Rating: G
Warnings: Mentions of religion, guilt, divorce.
Notes: 1938; Caroline Aldridge, Diana Foyle.
Summary: Caroline's not sure who she is any more.
Caroline had dreaded going through with the divorce. She still believed it was wrong—that marriage should be forever.
When the Decree Absolute came through, there had been little fanfare, barely even a whisper of the infamy Caroline had expected. People who didn't know stopped on occasion and sympathised with her about Edward's behaviour, and she could hardly put them right.
"Be glad," said Diana when Caroline tried to explain. "If I'd got rid of Stephen, I'd be throwing a party."
Caroline put down her wine glass so sharply the liquid splashed up against the rim, only narrowly missing a spillage on Diana's carpet. "Diana! Really."
"Being free of Edward is less of a victory, I'll admit—but you didn't want to stay together the way you were, did you?"
Caroline gazed unseeing at the vine like patterns on the wallpaper. "Not truly—and I do know so much of it was my fault. But this—this was Ned's plan, not mine. I never wanted this."
"What about Jack?"
Caroline rose, crossing to stand by the mantelpiece. She twisted the silver bracelet on her wrist around and back again. There was Jack, but she couldn't possibly go to him yet. It was too soon. Perhaps never would still be too soon. She had not yet made up her mind how she felt about this piece of lawyer's paper ability to override solemn vows made in church.
She was caught in between everything. She was neither truly Caroline Iveson any longer, nor had she returned to being Caroline Aldridge, and she certainly could not yet be Caroline Sheldon. She swallowed. "Poor Jack. It's unconscionable of me to make him wait so long. But there. So was deserting Ned."
Caroline put her hand to her mouth, and blinked away tears.
"Caro," said Diana, standing and moving over to put an arm around her shoulders. "Don't cry again, darling. I know you would have liked things to be different, but this is finally a new beginning for everyone. And tomorrow, you are going to see Jack."
"Oh, no. We haven't arranged anything."
"Which is why I did," Diana told her, and squeezed her hand. "I knew I couldn't leave it to you. You have a talk with him—see how he feels."
Caroline turned. She gave a nod. "Of course." The guilt remained, but the thought of seeing Jack again so soon made the world immediately brighter. She looked at Diana, her brow creasing. "But Edward—do you think he will be all right?"
"Never mind about Ned," said Diana. "He is perfectly capable of looking after himself. Be entirely selfish, at least for a little while. I promise you, everyone will be much happier if you can."
"It doesn't seem fair," Caroline murmured, her fingers fluttering on the edge of the mantelpiece.
Diana shrugged. "Life isn't."
"It ought to be," said Caroline. "One should—try and make it so." She hesitated, and turned around. "Is Jack truly coming here tomorrow?"
"Cross my heart and hope to die," said Diana.
Taking on a new name—Sheldon—was perhaps not so impossible after all.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
1) accent
2) https://44.media.tumblr.com/643d04d4f2655b77f730f32d65cf280e/fbdad53922c1fca3-a5/s540x810_f1/2a6e57dd7656192ff846241c5ccd54084284b859.gif
3) "I don't always burn my bridges, but when I do, I like there to be no survivors." Ursula Vernon
4) mammoth
5) "And what am I supposed to say/When I'm all choked up and you're okay?" - Breakeven, The Script
6) Mercy Street, Peter Gabriel: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4FuxbpRZhzQ