![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
it's you season (Mary/Lavinia)
it's you season - Mary/Lavinia, AU fluff, for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
oliveoyl's prompt: "I am a hunter. And it's you season." :D
This is Very Serious Stuff Of The Highest Order. The odious Amelia comes from Adventuring for Ladies.
+
"It's tradition," Mary says.
"It's barbaric," Lavinia says.
"Oh dear, there it is again," Mary says, smirking, and takes a break from idling around the library (where they are alone, it goes without saying) to pause at the back of Lavinia's chair. Lavinia seems quite wed to Daniel Deronda this afternoon; it's possible Mary is the slightest bit jealous. She loops her arms around Lavinia from behind and hovers close to her ear. "That bleeding heart of yours."
"Oh, shush," Lavinia orders, swatting her away fondly. Mary catches her hand, runs a fingertip over the back of her palm. "I've never been on a horse in my life, and I'm not about to change that just to terrorize a poor little dog."
"It's a fox."
"As if they're so very different!"
"If you're to be part of the fine Crawley family, you must make at least some effort to embrace our traditions, you know."
"If I was to be part of the family, I would have married Matthew. Perhaps you ought to give this lecture to Amelia."
"I wouldn't give a dead cat to Amelia."
"And I'm sure knowing that would disappoint her completely," Lavinia says, a smile quirking her mouth, and goes back to her book.
"You know," Mary says nonchalantly, circling around Lavinia's chair, "I'm rather an accomplished rider. If I do say so myself."
Lavinia reddens just slightly, but keeps her gaze firmly trained on her page. The corner of her mouth twitches.
"Wouldn't you like to see for yourself?" Mary presses, sinking down onto her knees and resting her hands in Lavinia's lap, dancing her fingers across the book's surface.
"Of course," Lavinia says very tranquilly to George Eliot and Mary's fingers. "Only I don't see why that requires going outside."
Her straight face lasts a whole five seconds; then she meets Mary's eyes, and they both give into laughing.
"Good lord," Mary says, not unappreciatively, "When she called you a harlot, Aunt Rosamund wasn't so very far off."
"A harlot?" Lavinia says, with a small bit of genuine hurt; it makes her seem not a day older than she was when Mary first laid eyes on her, though six (very eventful) years have slipped by since. "Did she?"
"Ages ago," Mary says, dismissive, already regretting that she's mentioned it at all. It isn't that Lavinia will dwell: she's too even-tempered for that. It's only that they're so happy now that it seems a shame to look back on all that wasted, awkward, miserable time. "It just goes to show how much stock ought to be set in what Aunt Rosamund says."
"They really were keen to get rid of me, weren't they?"
"Ages ago," Mary repeats firmly. "And I wasn't about to let it happen."
Ah, there. A smile. Much better. "Even then?"
"Even then," Mary affirms, squeezing her hand. "Perhaps that should have tipped me off."
Lavinia squeezes back. Teasingly, she declares, "I can't in good conscience go fox hunting."
"Fair enough," Mary says; she's learning how to pick her battles. The key is to hone in on what's really worth fighting for. "And riding?" She makes sure to fill every syllable with promises of splendid indecency. "What about that?"
"I suppose country pastimes must have some merit," Lavinia answers, in quite calm tones for someone blushing so prettily, and closes her book. Mary grins, triumphant, and goes in for a kiss. It turns into several.
Until:
"The library's always nice this time of day, isn't it, Mama?" comes Edith's pointed and especially loud voice from the hallway.
Mary breaks apart from Lavinia; Lavinia takes a moment to smooth Mary's hair, and Mary returns the favor before she stands. They're getting rather sloppy about this. Mary's begun wondering when they're going to be caught, instead of if.
"Certainly, dear," Mama says, rather puzzled, as company steps in.
"Does it really matter what time of day it is in a library?" Amelia ponders. Annoyingly. "I'd think it wouldn't. Though, who does want to read in the dark? So you're right, Edie. As always!"
"Ah, Mary, Lavinia, there you are," Mama says, spotting them. "I should've known you were off together. Forever joined at the hip."
"That's us," Lavinia says, knocking her foot discreetly against Mary's.
"Until she gets sick of me, anyhow," Mary agrees dryly. Fortunately, Amelia starts prattling on about God knows what, taking Mama's attention hostage and giving Lavinia leave to shoot a rather moony and adoring look in Mary's direction. One day, Mary's heart will surely give out -- all of this happiness can't be healthy.
Edith rolls her eyes, and almost succeeds in burying her indulgent smile in a scowl.
oliveoyl's prompt: "I am a hunter. And it's you season." :DThis is Very Serious Stuff Of The Highest Order. The odious Amelia comes from Adventuring for Ladies.
+
"It's tradition," Mary says.
"It's barbaric," Lavinia says.
"Oh dear, there it is again," Mary says, smirking, and takes a break from idling around the library (where they are alone, it goes without saying) to pause at the back of Lavinia's chair. Lavinia seems quite wed to Daniel Deronda this afternoon; it's possible Mary is the slightest bit jealous. She loops her arms around Lavinia from behind and hovers close to her ear. "That bleeding heart of yours."
"Oh, shush," Lavinia orders, swatting her away fondly. Mary catches her hand, runs a fingertip over the back of her palm. "I've never been on a horse in my life, and I'm not about to change that just to terrorize a poor little dog."
"It's a fox."
"As if they're so very different!"
"If you're to be part of the fine Crawley family, you must make at least some effort to embrace our traditions, you know."
"If I was to be part of the family, I would have married Matthew. Perhaps you ought to give this lecture to Amelia."
"I wouldn't give a dead cat to Amelia."
"And I'm sure knowing that would disappoint her completely," Lavinia says, a smile quirking her mouth, and goes back to her book.
"You know," Mary says nonchalantly, circling around Lavinia's chair, "I'm rather an accomplished rider. If I do say so myself."
Lavinia reddens just slightly, but keeps her gaze firmly trained on her page. The corner of her mouth twitches.
"Wouldn't you like to see for yourself?" Mary presses, sinking down onto her knees and resting her hands in Lavinia's lap, dancing her fingers across the book's surface.
"Of course," Lavinia says very tranquilly to George Eliot and Mary's fingers. "Only I don't see why that requires going outside."
Her straight face lasts a whole five seconds; then she meets Mary's eyes, and they both give into laughing.
"Good lord," Mary says, not unappreciatively, "When she called you a harlot, Aunt Rosamund wasn't so very far off."
"A harlot?" Lavinia says, with a small bit of genuine hurt; it makes her seem not a day older than she was when Mary first laid eyes on her, though six (very eventful) years have slipped by since. "Did she?"
"Ages ago," Mary says, dismissive, already regretting that she's mentioned it at all. It isn't that Lavinia will dwell: she's too even-tempered for that. It's only that they're so happy now that it seems a shame to look back on all that wasted, awkward, miserable time. "It just goes to show how much stock ought to be set in what Aunt Rosamund says."
"They really were keen to get rid of me, weren't they?"
"Ages ago," Mary repeats firmly. "And I wasn't about to let it happen."
Ah, there. A smile. Much better. "Even then?"
"Even then," Mary affirms, squeezing her hand. "Perhaps that should have tipped me off."
Lavinia squeezes back. Teasingly, she declares, "I can't in good conscience go fox hunting."
"Fair enough," Mary says; she's learning how to pick her battles. The key is to hone in on what's really worth fighting for. "And riding?" She makes sure to fill every syllable with promises of splendid indecency. "What about that?"
"I suppose country pastimes must have some merit," Lavinia answers, in quite calm tones for someone blushing so prettily, and closes her book. Mary grins, triumphant, and goes in for a kiss. It turns into several.
Until:
"The library's always nice this time of day, isn't it, Mama?" comes Edith's pointed and especially loud voice from the hallway.
Mary breaks apart from Lavinia; Lavinia takes a moment to smooth Mary's hair, and Mary returns the favor before she stands. They're getting rather sloppy about this. Mary's begun wondering when they're going to be caught, instead of if.
"Certainly, dear," Mama says, rather puzzled, as company steps in.
"Does it really matter what time of day it is in a library?" Amelia ponders. Annoyingly. "I'd think it wouldn't. Though, who does want to read in the dark? So you're right, Edie. As always!"
"Ah, Mary, Lavinia, there you are," Mama says, spotting them. "I should've known you were off together. Forever joined at the hip."
"That's us," Lavinia says, knocking her foot discreetly against Mary's.
"Until she gets sick of me, anyhow," Mary agrees dryly. Fortunately, Amelia starts prattling on about God knows what, taking Mama's attention hostage and giving Lavinia leave to shoot a rather moony and adoring look in Mary's direction. One day, Mary's heart will surely give out -- all of this happiness can't be healthy.
Edith rolls her eyes, and almost succeeds in burying her indulgent smile in a scowl.
no subject
THIS VERSE IS MY FAVOURITE PLACE IN THE WORLD. AND LAVINIA IS ADORABLE AND MARY IS ADORABLE AND EDITH SHIPS THEM! AND YES.
Lavinia seems quite wed to Daniel Deronda this afternoon; it's possible Mary is the slightest bit jealous.
ILU Mary, and this is totally how I see them.
"I wouldn't give a dead cat to Amelia."
I just loved this because I could hear the quick blunt way Mary would say this, no fuss just, I hate that fucking woman hanging off of every word.
Mary breaks apart from Lavinia; Lavinia takes a moment to smooth Mary's hair, and Mary returns the favor before she stands.
THEY GROOM EACH OTHER!!!! SIGNS OF TRUE LOVE AND COUPLEDOM!
"The library's always nice this time of day, isn't it, Mama?" comes Edith's pointed and especially loud voice from the hallway.
EDITH. EDITH SHIPS MARY/LAVINIA! (Remember Edith was the first one to mention Lavinia's existence to Mary, MAYBE EDITH HAS PLANNED THIS FROM THE START.)
We need to write more Amelia bitchery. NO LOOK I JUST DEMAND THAT SOMEONE WRITE THE MATTHEW IS TERRIFIED OF AMELIA/MARY FIC. Oh wait, you have a ficathon going on, I'll go deal with that there.
(no subject)
no subject
let's just get down to brass tacks: AMELIA.
YOU USED AMELIA!!!!!!
no but really, I love that you love the odious Amelia (or the idea of Amelia), because ME TOO, and I especially love that Mary wouldn't give a dead cat to her. god. that is so what she'd say.
EVERYTHING ELSE IS FLAWLESS TOO. I can't even handle the girls and their innuendoes!!!!! Lavinia! Do you kiss fancy ladies with that mouth! (Yes.) COUNTRY PASTIMES. What a sassbot. I also enjoy her standing on her principles re: fox hunting, even if she can't help sending Mary MOONY ADORING LOOKS. moony. adoring. looks. m o o n y.
God, they just seem so COMFORTABLE here. I love Lavinia swatting Mary away fondly (my heart, my heaaaart) and the BLUSHING and the TOUCHING. gaaaaah. and kissing in the library. the library!!! with george eliot!!!!!!!!
It isn't that Lavinia will dwell: she's too even-tempered for that. It's only that they're so happy now that it seems a shame to look back on all that wasted, awkward, miserable time.
Yes, indeed. Fuck you, S2! (even beyond my desire to get a dig in at fellowes, I really like how this is written.)
FINALLY: EDITH. EDITH. EDITH, YOU SHIPPER, YOU!!!! I believe it. She totally would.
In conclusion: all this happiness can't be healthy, for Mary or FOR ME. Thanks for making me die approx. once a day, geez.
(no subject)
no subject
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
(no subject)
no subject
(/lies)
Lovely!
(no subject)
no subject
(no subject)
no subject