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badass_tiger) wrote2021-10-04 07:24 pm
badass_tiger) wrote2021-10-04 07:24 pm
7. in the light of the evening sun
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fallintofallfestival
Prompt: Any Fandom | Any Pairing | The evening sun is falling on their face and she thinks maybe, just maybe she is a little bit in love with them.
Word Count: 1.2k
Author/Team:badass_tiger
Title: in the light of the evening sun
Fandom/Original: Original (Theodore Elliot/Caramia Rivera)
Rating: Gen
Triggers: NA
Summary: It was just too much to live in that enormous mansion pretending her husband didn't exist, that she felt the urge to start welcoming him when he returned home.
ConCrit: Y
Theodore returned early that day. Caramia was almost been too late to greet him; he was halfway up the stairs when she arrived at the top of them.
'Good evening, my lady,' he said. Three weeks into their marriage, Caramia had given up on blushing whenever he addressed her so formally. It was true that she had detested hearing her name on his lips at first, but it had been almost equally unbearable to simply be referred to as the lady of the house, as 'Lady Elliot', the wife of Lord Elliot.
'Hello,' she said somewhat breathlessly. She had half-sprinted out of her room when she heard the car pulling up and was somewhat ruffled. 'Er, hello,' she said again, and didn't know what else to say.
'Is something the matter?'
'No.' A little of the former chilliness of their marriage returned to her at his indifferent manner. Why had he so proclaimed his love for her, and asked to marry her, if he didn't care for her at all? She swallowed back her resentment with effort. 'I only - only wanted to say "welcome back".'
He stared at her as if she had confessed to being a kraken that secretly lived in the bottom of the lake in the grounds.
'Thank you,' he said finally, the tips of his ears flushing pink. 'It is good to see you.'
Caramia nodded, relieved the interaction was apparently over, and turned to leave. She was almost at the door of her bedroom when he called her back.
'Would you - ah - like to accompany me - for tea?'
It was so strange to hear Theodore stammer while his expression otherwise remained completely impassive that Caramia wanted to laugh. She couldn't stop the smile from touching her face, and he seemed to take encouragement from it, taking a step closer.
'Well - alright,' she said. 'I'll come down when the bell rings.'
At least he didn't thank her (again). He nodded and left. She withdrew into her room, feeling peculiar.
Theodore was a little different these days, she felt. When they had first married, he had been like a statue, cold and inscrutable. Even now, it was a completely mystery to her, why he had ever asked to marry her in the first place. He had said he loved her, but he never showed it. But perhaps it was because he knew that she didn't love him. She had refused him at first, but then circumstances changed. She had nowhere to go. Though her friends were plenty, she couldn't impose herself on them forever. He asked her again, and this time, she agreed. He accepted from the outset that she felt nothing for him - that her feelings, in fact, bordered on dislike - and for the most part, left her well alone.
She couldn't understand how he bore it. She most certainly wouldn't have.
When the bell went off and she came down to the dining room, the housekeeper instead beckoned her to the parlour. Caramia went in, and was instantly hit with a cool breeze. She looked around at the open French windows, the fluttering curtains, and the silhouette of Theodore in only shirtsleeves standing at the balcony. For a few seconds, Caramia rocked on her feet, debating whether or not to join him. When he continued staring out over the grounds, apparently not noticing or ignoring her presence, she crept to his side.
He turned to look at her. 'You're here,' he said.
'Yes. You asked me here.'
'I did.'
Normally, holding such a stupid conversation with anyone else would have set Caramia fuming. But between her and Theodore, words, let alone civil ones, were rare. She released the breath she didn't know she had been holding and leaned against the balustrade.
Theodore gestured to the view of the grounds beneath them. 'I have always wished to have someone to share this with,' he said.
The admission surprised her. 'You share them often enough with the town, don't you, with all your dinners and parties?'
'Yes. I suppose I mean something more than that.'
Caramia understood well enough. It just embarrassed her to think that he was talking about her when she was so often reluctant to tolerate his company. She herself had never thought of sharing anything more than a sandwich with someone else. She had always been close with her money and possessions, and only had friends by dint of her cheerful, carefree ways. Theodore's generosity was something alien to her. They were complete opposites in that way.
'Does it help to have me here, then?' she said, perhaps a little unkindly.
'No.'
Well, she had been asking for that.
'Perhaps a little,' he assented. 'I'm proud to have you as my wife, though I am sorry I can't make you happy.'
She blushed. His tone was completely even, but she felt as if she had been rebuked. She couldn't find anything to say in reply.
'Even if you cannot come to tolerate me, I hope that you can eventually become comfortable enough here to find some joy in my estate and the things I can offer you.'
It was so unlike him to say so much that Caramia found herself saying something she normally wouldn't too. 'Do you really love me?'
'Of course.' Theodore seemed surprised that she even had to ask. 'You make everyone like you.'
'I'm not well-suited for you.'
'You mean that I am not well-suited for you.' He squared his shoulders and looked at her directly. The force of his grey eyes would normally have been frightening, but tonight, they were more captivating than intimidating. She stared back. 'You are everything I have ever wanted in a wife. Your manners are easy and merry, and I seem to lose myself whenever I am with you. Even now, I seem to be saying things I normally wouldn't.'
She had noticed it too, how different he was being now than he was normally. It was only natural for him to be less stiff in the privacy of his own home than he was in company, but she was here now too. What presence of mind did a man need to have to be so content with so little? She felt something that compelled her to put out her hand.
'I'm honoured. Truly.' She swallowed around a lump that had suddenly risen in her throat. It was daunting to promise, no matter how obliquely, to remain with him, but she felt more than anything in that moment, that she couldn't turn her back on him. He had been there when she had no one else to turn to, after all. 'I hope that - that I can always be a comfort to you.'
He gazed at her with a wonder that was almost apprehension. He took her hand and pressed it with all of the emotion that so rarely touched his eyes, but was somehow always present in his actions. 'Caramia,' he said, and she didn't recoil from the sound of her name. 'You are everything.'
In the glow of the evening sun, she wondered if it was not pity or sorrow that had urged her to reach out to him, but something even more tender and deep. Perhaps it was ... yes, perhaps it was not so bad to be Lady Eliott after all.
fallintofallfestivalPrompt: Any Fandom | Any Pairing | The evening sun is falling on their face and she thinks maybe, just maybe she is a little bit in love with them.
Word Count: 1.2k
Author/Team:
badass_tigerTitle: in the light of the evening sun
Fandom/Original: Original (Theodore Elliot/Caramia Rivera)
Rating: Gen
Triggers: NA
Summary: It was just too much to live in that enormous mansion pretending her husband didn't exist, that she felt the urge to start welcoming him when he returned home.
ConCrit: Y
Theodore returned early that day. Caramia was almost been too late to greet him; he was halfway up the stairs when she arrived at the top of them.
'Good evening, my lady,' he said. Three weeks into their marriage, Caramia had given up on blushing whenever he addressed her so formally. It was true that she had detested hearing her name on his lips at first, but it had been almost equally unbearable to simply be referred to as the lady of the house, as 'Lady Elliot', the wife of Lord Elliot.
'Hello,' she said somewhat breathlessly. She had half-sprinted out of her room when she heard the car pulling up and was somewhat ruffled. 'Er, hello,' she said again, and didn't know what else to say.
'Is something the matter?'
'No.' A little of the former chilliness of their marriage returned to her at his indifferent manner. Why had he so proclaimed his love for her, and asked to marry her, if he didn't care for her at all? She swallowed back her resentment with effort. 'I only - only wanted to say "welcome back".'
He stared at her as if she had confessed to being a kraken that secretly lived in the bottom of the lake in the grounds.
'Thank you,' he said finally, the tips of his ears flushing pink. 'It is good to see you.'
Caramia nodded, relieved the interaction was apparently over, and turned to leave. She was almost at the door of her bedroom when he called her back.
'Would you - ah - like to accompany me - for tea?'
It was so strange to hear Theodore stammer while his expression otherwise remained completely impassive that Caramia wanted to laugh. She couldn't stop the smile from touching her face, and he seemed to take encouragement from it, taking a step closer.
'Well - alright,' she said. 'I'll come down when the bell rings.'
At least he didn't thank her (again). He nodded and left. She withdrew into her room, feeling peculiar.
Theodore was a little different these days, she felt. When they had first married, he had been like a statue, cold and inscrutable. Even now, it was a completely mystery to her, why he had ever asked to marry her in the first place. He had said he loved her, but he never showed it. But perhaps it was because he knew that she didn't love him. She had refused him at first, but then circumstances changed. She had nowhere to go. Though her friends were plenty, she couldn't impose herself on them forever. He asked her again, and this time, she agreed. He accepted from the outset that she felt nothing for him - that her feelings, in fact, bordered on dislike - and for the most part, left her well alone.
She couldn't understand how he bore it. She most certainly wouldn't have.
When the bell went off and she came down to the dining room, the housekeeper instead beckoned her to the parlour. Caramia went in, and was instantly hit with a cool breeze. She looked around at the open French windows, the fluttering curtains, and the silhouette of Theodore in only shirtsleeves standing at the balcony. For a few seconds, Caramia rocked on her feet, debating whether or not to join him. When he continued staring out over the grounds, apparently not noticing or ignoring her presence, she crept to his side.
He turned to look at her. 'You're here,' he said.
'Yes. You asked me here.'
'I did.'
Normally, holding such a stupid conversation with anyone else would have set Caramia fuming. But between her and Theodore, words, let alone civil ones, were rare. She released the breath she didn't know she had been holding and leaned against the balustrade.
Theodore gestured to the view of the grounds beneath them. 'I have always wished to have someone to share this with,' he said.
The admission surprised her. 'You share them often enough with the town, don't you, with all your dinners and parties?'
'Yes. I suppose I mean something more than that.'
Caramia understood well enough. It just embarrassed her to think that he was talking about her when she was so often reluctant to tolerate his company. She herself had never thought of sharing anything more than a sandwich with someone else. She had always been close with her money and possessions, and only had friends by dint of her cheerful, carefree ways. Theodore's generosity was something alien to her. They were complete opposites in that way.
'Does it help to have me here, then?' she said, perhaps a little unkindly.
'No.'
Well, she had been asking for that.
'Perhaps a little,' he assented. 'I'm proud to have you as my wife, though I am sorry I can't make you happy.'
She blushed. His tone was completely even, but she felt as if she had been rebuked. She couldn't find anything to say in reply.
'Even if you cannot come to tolerate me, I hope that you can eventually become comfortable enough here to find some joy in my estate and the things I can offer you.'
It was so unlike him to say so much that Caramia found herself saying something she normally wouldn't too. 'Do you really love me?'
'Of course.' Theodore seemed surprised that she even had to ask. 'You make everyone like you.'
'I'm not well-suited for you.'
'You mean that I am not well-suited for you.' He squared his shoulders and looked at her directly. The force of his grey eyes would normally have been frightening, but tonight, they were more captivating than intimidating. She stared back. 'You are everything I have ever wanted in a wife. Your manners are easy and merry, and I seem to lose myself whenever I am with you. Even now, I seem to be saying things I normally wouldn't.'
She had noticed it too, how different he was being now than he was normally. It was only natural for him to be less stiff in the privacy of his own home than he was in company, but she was here now too. What presence of mind did a man need to have to be so content with so little? She felt something that compelled her to put out her hand.
'I'm honoured. Truly.' She swallowed around a lump that had suddenly risen in her throat. It was daunting to promise, no matter how obliquely, to remain with him, but she felt more than anything in that moment, that she couldn't turn her back on him. He had been there when she had no one else to turn to, after all. 'I hope that - that I can always be a comfort to you.'
He gazed at her with a wonder that was almost apprehension. He took her hand and pressed it with all of the emotion that so rarely touched his eyes, but was somehow always present in his actions. 'Caramia,' he said, and she didn't recoil from the sound of her name. 'You are everything.'
In the glow of the evening sun, she wondered if it was not pity or sorrow that had urged her to reach out to him, but something even more tender and deep. Perhaps it was ... yes, perhaps it was not so bad to be Lady Eliott after all.