Challenge #17a: Zoom in/Zoom Out - Part 1
Oct. 16th, 2012 08:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alicia_hTitle: Felix
Word Count: 2065
Rating: PG
Original/Fandom: Original
Pairings (if any): Felix and Avery (in a way)
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): none
Summary: A servant cannot enjoy his holiday in Whitby, feeling lonely and out of place in much the same way as he does during his work.
The high gothic arches of the abbey ruin loom above him. The walls with what might once have been true windows but now are only certainly holes worn by time reach inexorably up to the blue, clear sky. He thinks they might continue to grow, to stretch higher and higher, even as he watches, behaving no longer like the bones of a holy place but the skeletal branches of a tree in winter, still alive in some capacity but shed of all its weight. Its decoration. Still able to grow despite appearing dead.
It is as he stares up at that ever shrinking square of blinding blue that he starts to feel faint. The voices encompass him, press in hard upon him, as he pitches forward onto the shivering, shimmering, glowing green of the grass.
Hands take hold of him, though he would fight them. He would order them to leave him be if he could but find his own voice among the tumult of others assailing his ears.
“I am not here for your amusement,” he snaps at those still staring unabashedly at him. Those who had clearly not made any movement to help him but would no doubt tell tales of the strange young man who had a funny turn up at the abbey for a good while to come. He is not normally one to scowl but for those vultures he will make an exception.
He is beginning to deeply regret choosing Whitby as his destination but where else would he have picked had he the chance to rethink his decision. Being offered three full days leave had been a pleasant surprise and it was exceedingly generous on the part of his master, of course.
Yet he is already feeling a devout and unshakeable loneliness. He wishes that he had chosen to renew his acquaintance with Whitby before he had taken up his current situation. He might then at least have enjoyed a holiday without feeling suddenly inferior to all the middle class men and women with whom he shared transport, accommodation, cafes and walks. Yes, inferior. That is indeed the word. He feels inferior in a way he never felt as a child when his father held the position he himself now occupies.
His troubled thoughts carry him down the hundred and ninety nine steps and across the town to his modest guest house lodgings. He speaks to no one but to politely greet his temporary landlady and accept good naturedly her insistence that it was too nice a day for him to waste indoors. For a moment he considers lying to her and claiming he has merely forgotten something vital, but remembers himself and admits he is too tired from travelling to truly enjoy the day.
The telephone in the cramped hall jangles into life, startling them both. While his landlady excuses herself to answer its insistent call, he takes his leave of her. He is not halfway up the first of several staircases when she calls him back down. Somebody wishes to speak with him.
He knows the voice immediately and can picture his master clearly, standing confidently by the telephone in the Butler’s pantry. The servants stand by outside the the door, on edge because His Lordship, while being identical in age to his footmen, is still His Lordship, and they are all achingly curious as to his business on the still mysterious telephone. There is a mirror before him. He gazes not at it but deep into it, watching the scene unfold before him as though he is viewing it secretly though an inner window rather than his own mind’s eye’s projection of what is many miles away from him.
His master is coming up to join him. His master wants them to be together alone and as friends. As they were at one time. And how they wish they could be once more. His master does not express this in words. It would not do for his master to talk of their friendship in front of the entirety of his staff.
Instead his master expresses his ardent desire for a holiday now that the house is settled into its new routine and he has seen off the very last of his distant relatives (who arrived to pay their respects after the execution of the old Earl and were clearly still been taking advantage of the new Earl’s hospitality when he announced his intention to absent himself for this much deserved holiday).
“I will make arrangements for a room, sir.” He cannot help but smile as he says it.
He listens to his master half-heartedly lamenting that the family’s holiday cottage cannot possibly be made ready in time, before pondering on the notion of it being made so if he extends his stay.
“- but a room will be fine for now, I’m sure.”
He is standing on the front door step when he hears the car draw up and park in the nearest available spot. It is so unfortunate, he thinks, that the motorcar has risen in popularity so that it clogs up towns where one is of no real use apart from arriving and leaving. It is a fleeting thought for a jubilant cry brings his attention to the motorcar’s driver.
“Felix!”
Felix smiles brightly and waves, fighting for several seconds the appropriate greetings that have been ingrained by his training.
“Avery! You made it away after all! I feared something may have occurred to drag you back to the house.”
“There were a few hitches, naturally. My mother was distraught to think I might be leaving her once more. Then there concerns about my name attracting unwanted attention so soon after father... but then that is the sort of paranoia I am trying to dispel. I cannot live under the shadow of father’s crimes, or indeed his triumphs my entire life, nor can I see the skull of death in the face of every friend and stranger. Do you understand that, Felix?”
“Of course. As far as I am able to, at any rate.”
Avery takes a step closer and lays a hand on his friend’s arm. “Believe me, Felix, you understand more than you give yourself credit for.” He glances about them before leaning still closer to inspect the other man’s face. “And what of you, Felix? From the look of you, your holiday seems to have taken more of a toll on you than I would have hoped.”
“Oh, well, I was informed it was a crime to come here on such a spectacular day and not to visit the abbey. I did not quite realise how tired I was until I reached it, and by then, of course, I was drawn up in the breathtaking splendor of it.”
“Tell me the truth, has anticipation of my arrival prevented you resting at the time when you most needed to?”
“I confess it has and yet I did not really need to rest as the anticipation was quite overwhelming. I sat on that bench, reading and taking in the view. My landlady - that is our landlady - brought me tea and sandwiches and other than that I have been quite undisturbed for the most part. My spirits are quite recovered even if my body is lagging a little way behind.”
“Let’s go inside, then, and don’t you dare try to carry anything of mine. You are still on leave and I will not let you forget it. And while I settle into my room, you will try to get some sleep. I’ll call on you later but for now you’ll rest. You know I’ll keep giving you days off until I’m satisfied you’re getting enough sleep.”
Felix sighs, eliciting a questioning look from Avery, convincing him to speak his concerns. “I’m afraid that all these days off and time away will only make it worse when I get back to work. Not only for getting back into the routine but for how the others perceive me downstairs. Word’s been going round about the times you invited me to dinner. Though my father and mother are respected enough that their disapproval has quieted the junior servants. All the same, do you realise how hard it is as a grown man knowing your parents are quelling gossip about you?”
“Oh, Felix, surely you’ve seen enough of my world to know that I and countless others go through that humiliation continuously. That is what holds together their idealised notion of polite society. I have to live with it just as much as you do.” He places his hands on his friend’s shoulders, still watching him in the dim, reddish light of the sunset. “Though, I am truly sorry I allowed you to take this position with my family if you are being made to feel humiliated. Are you miserable with us?”
“It is not really that I am miserable. It’s simply a feeling of being bounced back and forth within society in such a short number of years. I cannot be sure I will settle where I am. However, I am sure I will find some compromise, one way or another.”
Felix lets his gaze drift from his friend’s face to take in the view of the town that had been his companion for the hours he waited. He sees the red gold light glinting in the window’s of St Mary’s church. Paired with the shadowed ruins of the abbey, still distinctly gothic even at this distance, he cannot choose but see the church as sinister. If he watched them both for a time, he could make the lit windows into eyes. He can imagine them accusing him. Not in the gentle, jovial and half-jesting way that Avery had done. No, this is the cruel and infinitely honest accusal of his mind as he tried to sleep at night.
You have forgotten your place. You have forgotten your place and you could have continued to forget it but you had to go back. You should have suffered one humiliation and made something of yourself but now you have found humiliation in your old way of life. You will have to bear it now. The humiliation of an improved life, the rise in status your education should have given you, will now be ten thousand times worse than it was the first time you attempted it.
His mind becomes his enemy at night, or at any time he is left alone too long to ponder on the path his life has taken so far. That its claims seem contradictory at times did not stop them whirling around, keeping him resolutely awake and desperate to scream at his own thoughts to be quiet and let him rest.
“Felix?” There is a careful, questioning tone in Avery’s voice. “What would you like to do? I fear I have upset you a little more than I intended with my questions about your situation. Will you be able to rest now or will you spend the time bullying yourself for not having an answer to satisfy my curiosity?”
“You were right, Avery. I am tired. Yet, I do not think I am tired enough to sleep. I felt far more alone when my tiredness threatened to overwhelm me at the abbey and I had people helping me and asking after me than I did in the time I spent here reading, watching and waiting for your arrival. It was more lonely than most of the time I have spent at the house too. That is why I cannot say I have been entirely miserable there. If you see me getting anxious about it, it is because I want to find my place. If I did not want to be happy there, I would flaunt our friendship, but as it is I am hoping I can keep the two things separate. I hope my presence at the house will offer you comfort even when I myself cannot.”
Avery nods in understanding. “Can I propose, then, that we take advantage of this time away from the house to talk as friends over a hot meal and a drink or two. Hopefully, given time, we can set each other’s mind at ease and at least one of us will be permitted a peaceful night’s sleep before we are both summoned back to reality.”
Word Count: 2065
Rating: PG
Original/Fandom: Original
Pairings (if any): Felix and Avery (in a way)
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): none
Summary: A servant cannot enjoy his holiday in Whitby, feeling lonely and out of place in much the same way as he does during his work.
The high gothic arches of the abbey ruin loom above him. The walls with what might once have been true windows but now are only certainly holes worn by time reach inexorably up to the blue, clear sky. He thinks they might continue to grow, to stretch higher and higher, even as he watches, behaving no longer like the bones of a holy place but the skeletal branches of a tree in winter, still alive in some capacity but shed of all its weight. Its decoration. Still able to grow despite appearing dead.
It is as he stares up at that ever shrinking square of blinding blue that he starts to feel faint. The voices encompass him, press in hard upon him, as he pitches forward onto the shivering, shimmering, glowing green of the grass.
Hands take hold of him, though he would fight them. He would order them to leave him be if he could but find his own voice among the tumult of others assailing his ears.
“I am not here for your amusement,” he snaps at those still staring unabashedly at him. Those who had clearly not made any movement to help him but would no doubt tell tales of the strange young man who had a funny turn up at the abbey for a good while to come. He is not normally one to scowl but for those vultures he will make an exception.
He is beginning to deeply regret choosing Whitby as his destination but where else would he have picked had he the chance to rethink his decision. Being offered three full days leave had been a pleasant surprise and it was exceedingly generous on the part of his master, of course.
Yet he is already feeling a devout and unshakeable loneliness. He wishes that he had chosen to renew his acquaintance with Whitby before he had taken up his current situation. He might then at least have enjoyed a holiday without feeling suddenly inferior to all the middle class men and women with whom he shared transport, accommodation, cafes and walks. Yes, inferior. That is indeed the word. He feels inferior in a way he never felt as a child when his father held the position he himself now occupies.
His troubled thoughts carry him down the hundred and ninety nine steps and across the town to his modest guest house lodgings. He speaks to no one but to politely greet his temporary landlady and accept good naturedly her insistence that it was too nice a day for him to waste indoors. For a moment he considers lying to her and claiming he has merely forgotten something vital, but remembers himself and admits he is too tired from travelling to truly enjoy the day.
The telephone in the cramped hall jangles into life, startling them both. While his landlady excuses herself to answer its insistent call, he takes his leave of her. He is not halfway up the first of several staircases when she calls him back down. Somebody wishes to speak with him.
He knows the voice immediately and can picture his master clearly, standing confidently by the telephone in the Butler’s pantry. The servants stand by outside the the door, on edge because His Lordship, while being identical in age to his footmen, is still His Lordship, and they are all achingly curious as to his business on the still mysterious telephone. There is a mirror before him. He gazes not at it but deep into it, watching the scene unfold before him as though he is viewing it secretly though an inner window rather than his own mind’s eye’s projection of what is many miles away from him.
His master is coming up to join him. His master wants them to be together alone and as friends. As they were at one time. And how they wish they could be once more. His master does not express this in words. It would not do for his master to talk of their friendship in front of the entirety of his staff.
Instead his master expresses his ardent desire for a holiday now that the house is settled into its new routine and he has seen off the very last of his distant relatives (who arrived to pay their respects after the execution of the old Earl and were clearly still been taking advantage of the new Earl’s hospitality when he announced his intention to absent himself for this much deserved holiday).
“I will make arrangements for a room, sir.” He cannot help but smile as he says it.
He listens to his master half-heartedly lamenting that the family’s holiday cottage cannot possibly be made ready in time, before pondering on the notion of it being made so if he extends his stay.
“- but a room will be fine for now, I’m sure.”
He is standing on the front door step when he hears the car draw up and park in the nearest available spot. It is so unfortunate, he thinks, that the motorcar has risen in popularity so that it clogs up towns where one is of no real use apart from arriving and leaving. It is a fleeting thought for a jubilant cry brings his attention to the motorcar’s driver.
“Felix!”
Felix smiles brightly and waves, fighting for several seconds the appropriate greetings that have been ingrained by his training.
“Avery! You made it away after all! I feared something may have occurred to drag you back to the house.”
“There were a few hitches, naturally. My mother was distraught to think I might be leaving her once more. Then there concerns about my name attracting unwanted attention so soon after father... but then that is the sort of paranoia I am trying to dispel. I cannot live under the shadow of father’s crimes, or indeed his triumphs my entire life, nor can I see the skull of death in the face of every friend and stranger. Do you understand that, Felix?”
“Of course. As far as I am able to, at any rate.”
Avery takes a step closer and lays a hand on his friend’s arm. “Believe me, Felix, you understand more than you give yourself credit for.” He glances about them before leaning still closer to inspect the other man’s face. “And what of you, Felix? From the look of you, your holiday seems to have taken more of a toll on you than I would have hoped.”
“Oh, well, I was informed it was a crime to come here on such a spectacular day and not to visit the abbey. I did not quite realise how tired I was until I reached it, and by then, of course, I was drawn up in the breathtaking splendor of it.”
“Tell me the truth, has anticipation of my arrival prevented you resting at the time when you most needed to?”
“I confess it has and yet I did not really need to rest as the anticipation was quite overwhelming. I sat on that bench, reading and taking in the view. My landlady - that is our landlady - brought me tea and sandwiches and other than that I have been quite undisturbed for the most part. My spirits are quite recovered even if my body is lagging a little way behind.”
“Let’s go inside, then, and don’t you dare try to carry anything of mine. You are still on leave and I will not let you forget it. And while I settle into my room, you will try to get some sleep. I’ll call on you later but for now you’ll rest. You know I’ll keep giving you days off until I’m satisfied you’re getting enough sleep.”
Felix sighs, eliciting a questioning look from Avery, convincing him to speak his concerns. “I’m afraid that all these days off and time away will only make it worse when I get back to work. Not only for getting back into the routine but for how the others perceive me downstairs. Word’s been going round about the times you invited me to dinner. Though my father and mother are respected enough that their disapproval has quieted the junior servants. All the same, do you realise how hard it is as a grown man knowing your parents are quelling gossip about you?”
“Oh, Felix, surely you’ve seen enough of my world to know that I and countless others go through that humiliation continuously. That is what holds together their idealised notion of polite society. I have to live with it just as much as you do.” He places his hands on his friend’s shoulders, still watching him in the dim, reddish light of the sunset. “Though, I am truly sorry I allowed you to take this position with my family if you are being made to feel humiliated. Are you miserable with us?”
“It is not really that I am miserable. It’s simply a feeling of being bounced back and forth within society in such a short number of years. I cannot be sure I will settle where I am. However, I am sure I will find some compromise, one way or another.”
Felix lets his gaze drift from his friend’s face to take in the view of the town that had been his companion for the hours he waited. He sees the red gold light glinting in the window’s of St Mary’s church. Paired with the shadowed ruins of the abbey, still distinctly gothic even at this distance, he cannot choose but see the church as sinister. If he watched them both for a time, he could make the lit windows into eyes. He can imagine them accusing him. Not in the gentle, jovial and half-jesting way that Avery had done. No, this is the cruel and infinitely honest accusal of his mind as he tried to sleep at night.
You have forgotten your place. You have forgotten your place and you could have continued to forget it but you had to go back. You should have suffered one humiliation and made something of yourself but now you have found humiliation in your old way of life. You will have to bear it now. The humiliation of an improved life, the rise in status your education should have given you, will now be ten thousand times worse than it was the first time you attempted it.
His mind becomes his enemy at night, or at any time he is left alone too long to ponder on the path his life has taken so far. That its claims seem contradictory at times did not stop them whirling around, keeping him resolutely awake and desperate to scream at his own thoughts to be quiet and let him rest.
“Felix?” There is a careful, questioning tone in Avery’s voice. “What would you like to do? I fear I have upset you a little more than I intended with my questions about your situation. Will you be able to rest now or will you spend the time bullying yourself for not having an answer to satisfy my curiosity?”
“You were right, Avery. I am tired. Yet, I do not think I am tired enough to sleep. I felt far more alone when my tiredness threatened to overwhelm me at the abbey and I had people helping me and asking after me than I did in the time I spent here reading, watching and waiting for your arrival. It was more lonely than most of the time I have spent at the house too. That is why I cannot say I have been entirely miserable there. If you see me getting anxious about it, it is because I want to find my place. If I did not want to be happy there, I would flaunt our friendship, but as it is I am hoping I can keep the two things separate. I hope my presence at the house will offer you comfort even when I myself cannot.”
Avery nods in understanding. “Can I propose, then, that we take advantage of this time away from the house to talk as friends over a hot meal and a drink or two. Hopefully, given time, we can set each other’s mind at ease and at least one of us will be permitted a peaceful night’s sleep before we are both summoned back to reality.”
no subject
Date: 2012-10-19 07:54 am (UTC)<3
no subject
Date: 2012-10-21 01:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-22 11:36 pm (UTC)(but i never drink them!!)
no subject
Date: 2012-10-24 01:32 am (UTC)i can't write in present tense like this piece, i know from trying, so credit for that too.
good stuff.
and you always get sympathetically inside your characters.
i miss whitby actually - need to visit again asap.
no subject
Date: 2012-10-24 11:00 am (UTC)It's been a long time since I went to whitby too. When I do finally get a job, I think I'll start saving up for a trip there. :-)
no subject
Date: 2012-11-01 03:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-01 04:24 pm (UTC)http://www.twovalleysradio.co.uk/listenagain/the-house-on-the-hill-a-halloween-special/
no subject
Date: 2012-11-01 06:49 pm (UTC)have you listened to Gloomsbury at all? it's fab.
no subject
Date: 2012-11-01 07:08 pm (UTC)i'll try again later... *grumble*