Fic: The Raven And The Nightingale Book III: Cherry Blossoms (9/22)
Title: The Raven And The Nightingale Book III: Cherry Blossoms (9/22)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters (this chapter): Bruce/Dick, Eliza Ruhamah Scidmore, David Fairchild
Genres: Angst, AU, Drama, Historical, Mystery, Romance
Rating (this chapter): G
Warnings (this chapter): None
Spoilers: None
General Summary: Bruce and Dick get caught up in political intrigue during a business trip to Washington City.
Chapter Summary: Bruce and Dick meet cherry tree activist Eliza Ruhamah Scidmore.
Date Of Completion: April 17, 2020
Date Of Posting: March 12, 2022
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1635
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Note: The entire series can be found here.
IX
SCENTED GRACE
Cherry trees,
All a-bloom,
With scented grace,
Dispersing gloom.
Sarah Jean Wendell
“Spring’s Scents”
1906 C.E.
“Cherry blossoms,” Dick said.
“What about them?” Bruce asked as he buttered his toast in the Willard Hotel’s dining room.
“There’s going to be a special ceremony on Arbor Day this year.”
“Arbor Day?”
“Yes.” Dick ate his sausage as he gestured with his fork. “One thousand cherry trees were planted out in Chevy Chase. They’re supposed to be quite a sight.”
“Maybe we should go see it.”
“Maybe we should.”
Dick’s smile always dazzled Bruce. He enjoyed doing things that elicited that smile.
“Mr. Wayne?” A young bellhop approached the table.
“Yes, I’m he.”
“Letter for you, sir.” The boy held out an envelope.
“Thank you.” Bruce tipped the boy.
“Thank you, sir.”
“Nice handwriting,” Dick said.
“A woman’s.”
“Ah, those detective skills.” Dick poured maple syrup over his last pancake.
Bruce smiled as he opened the letter. “Now that’s a coincidence.”
“What?”
“This is an invitation to tea from Eliza Ruhamah Scidmore.”
“The Cherry Blossom Lady!”
“Correct. She gives a short explanation of her cause.” Bruce waved the letter.
“A focused woman.”
“Or an obsessed one.”
“Pot, meet kettle.”
Bruce smiled. “The invitation is for today. Can you come, or do you have rehearsal?”
“Jean-Paul keeps us busy, but we have today off.”
“Good. Sounds interesting.”
“Do you have a meeting today?” Dick drank his coffee.
“No, I’ll enjoy the company of the committee tomorrow.”
Dick cut his pancake. “They sound pretty grim.”
“They are, but Teddy didn’t appoint me to have a good time.”
Dick appeared contemplative. “You said this facility was a research center for weapons?”
Bruce nodded. He intended to keep Dick apprised of the situation, but had warned him to tell no one else. He needed a sounding board, and Dick was a great one.
“Is the United States preparing for war in Europe?”
Surprised, Bruce said, “No. Why, do you think there will be war on the Continent?”
Dick sipped his coffee. “There’s been a lot of saber-rattling in recent years.”
“Isn’t that pretty much normal for Europe? In the last century alone, there’s been the Napoleonic Wars, the Revolutions of 1848, the Crimean War, and the Franco-Prussian War.”
“Oh, yeah, there is that. But it’s different this time.”
“Really, Dick, you honestly think the countries of Europe are plotting some big war? What’s the motivation?”
Dick laughed. “I must say, you Americans are charmingly naïve. Wars always have to be a moral crusade, like your Civil War, though the Mexican-American War and Spanish-American War were pretty mercenary in purpose.
“You never consider conspiracies. Lone nuts killed Presidents Garfield and McKinley. Your people would probably think Booth was one, too, if the conspiracy wasn’t so blatant.”
“You think you have us all figured out, hmm?”
“Europeans know there are conspiracies and plots to start wars. Wars are rarely moral.”
“A very cynical philosophy.”
“Again, very European.”
Bruce shook his head in amusement. “Eat your pancakes.”
“Pancake.”
& & & & & &
Bruce and Dick arrived at the Fairchild estate in Chevy Chase, Maryland. They exited the hansom cab and the driver received a generous tip to wait a few hours for them.
The cherry trees were close by the house and in full bloom. Bruce and Dick were impressed by the sight.
“Truly, a magnificent sight,” Bruce said.
“Agreed.” Dick walked closer to the trees, breathing in their scent.
The house was a two-story structure painted white with brown trim. Square pillars framed the front entrance, and the shrubbery was full and green. The door opened and the butler said, “Mr. Wayne, Miss Scidmore bids you and Mr. Grayson welcome.”
“Thank you.”
Bruce and Dick stepped up onto the porch and entered the house.
The house had a typically large foyer with polished floor, curving staircase and crystal chandelier. There were an abundance of flowers in the alcoves and on the pier table.
Well, a woman who loves cherry trees would love flowers, too. She must decorate for Fairchild.
Bruce noticed how bright the house was with its large windows and lack of dark paneling.
“This way, gentlemen,” said the gray-haired butler.
The visitors walked behind the butler to the back of the house and out into a walled garden, resplendent with spring flowers. Under an apple tree that was blooming, a woman sat at a small white table. She stood to greet her guests.
Eliza Ruhamah Scidmore was a woman of average height with a serious face and rich dark hair fashionably coiffed. The brown silk dress was high-necked and full-skirted. Not a great beauty, she nevertheless exuded a sense of purpose that was attractive.
“Welcome, gentlemen. My good friend David Fairchild is letting me use his home for tea in order to show you the cherry trees.”
“Most generous of him,” Bruce said.
“I have some trees on my property, but you get the full effect of them here.”
A maid came with tea and cookies, and they indulged as Eliza said, “David had these planted two years ago. A pity the politicians in Washington don’t appreciate beauty.”
“How so?”
“I have proposed that the Government plant a multitude of trees around the Tidal Basin. Several proposals, in fact. That Philistine Joe Cannon has blocked me every time.”
“Speaker of the House Cannon?”
“That’s the one. A bill is upcoming in this year’s session, but Cannon’s still there.” Disgust was clear on her face.
“That is a real shame, Miss Scidmore,” Dick said sympathetically. “Beauty is important.”
She smiled. It made her face charming. “A man of the arts understands.”
Dick smiled back. “Beauty is never frivolous.”
“I agree. I am also a supporter of President Roosevelt’s fight against the grasping corporations when it comes to our natural resources.”
“A noble endeavor,” said Bruce.
“Truly.” Eliza sipped her tea. “I would like to invite you gentlemen to the Arbor Day celebration.”
“When is that?” Dick asked.
“April 24th. I am to be the main speaker.”
“Perfect time for a little proselytizing?” Bruce teased.
She laughed. “Very good, Mr. Wayne.” She picked up a lemon cookie. “David will be there as well. We have no intention of giving up.”
“Persistence is necessary for success.”
Eliza nodded. “What about you, Mr. Wayne? I read in the papers that the President has appointed you to a special committee?”
“Yes, he has. I’m pleased to help in any way.”
“Mr. Roosevelt is not letting his lame duck status dampen his energy and verve.”
“I hear that Mr. Taft will be his successor.”
“Quite so. A jovial man, but I’m not sure he will lead the Progressive charge as energetically as his mentor.”
This woman has good insight, Bruce thought.
“Probably so, but I’m sure the Republicans will make sure that Mr. Taft is competent, though I must say, if George Washington hadn’t stepped away after his second term, Uncle Teddy would run a third time!”
Eliza laughed. “I believe you’re right. And I would support a third term for him.”
“Someday someone may break that tradition.”
Eliza sipped her tea. “Do you find your fellow committee members of interest?”
“Oh, yes.” Bruce named the men.
“Ezekiel Cannon? Yes, cousin to the Speaker of the House.”
“Interesting.”
“Watch your back.”
Bruce smiled. “Washington City’s motto.”
Eliza nodded firmly. “Roscoe Belknap is a buffoon, but a dangerous one. He still waves the bloody shirt.”
At Dick’s puzzled expression, Bruce explained, “When a politician waves the bloody shirt figuratively in his speeches, he invokes the memory of the Civil War. Stirs up the voters, especially in the South.”
“Ah.”
“All of them have their quirks,” Eliza said.
“Quirks is a charming way of putting it.”
She smiled knowingly. “The architecture of the city might resemble Greece, but the spirit is often Roman.”
“Ah, yes. ‘Et tu, Brute’.”
She nodded. “Money talks, but power is everything in this town.”
“You are a very astute woman, Miss Scidmore.”
“Most women are, Mr. Wayne.”
Yes, they are. They just aren’t allowed to show it.
Eliza stood. “Let us go see the trees, shall we?”
Bruce and Dick rose and followed her out of a small door to the outside. They were soon in a forest of pink and white blossoms.
“It’s quite a sight,” said Bruce, impressed all over again.
“It excites the senses while soothing the soul,” said Eliza, her stiff posture relaxing a little.
“Why would anybody object to these trees being planted at the Tidal Basin?” Dick asked.
Eliza’s expression grew stormy. “Money, mostly. The Speaker objects to spending money on ‘frippery’, as he calls it.”
Dick shook his head. “Soulless.”
“Exactly.”
The three of them spent an hour walking through the acres of trees, discussing their care and the places in Japan where Eliza had first seen them. They were still deep in conversation when they returned to the perimeter of the house and a dark-haired man hailed the trio.
“Ah, David, this is Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson.” Eliza waved toward the duo.
“Gentlemen, so glad you could come for tea.” He shook hands with his guests.
Handsome and elegant, David Fairchild looked every inch the wealthy philanthropist. Soft brown eyes quickly took his guests’ measure.
“Has Eliza dragooned you gentlemen into the Arbor Day festivities?”
“Oh, yes.” Bruce laughed. “We’ll be there.”
“Excellent.”
They chatted for awhile, then Bruce and Dick took their leave.
“You meet all kinds in Washington,” Bruce said.
“I find them pleasant. I like that their focus is Nature and beautification instead of obsession with power,” Dick said as the hansom cab bounced along the country road.
“I agree; it is refreshing.”
“Miss Scidmore is an intelligent woman.”
"And persistent. Someday there will be cherry trees in Washington. Bet on it.”
Dick grinned, and the cab’s horse clopped back to the city.
This chapter can also be read on AO3.
This entry has been cross-posted from Dreamwidth. Comment on either entry as you wish. :)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters (this chapter): Bruce/Dick, Eliza Ruhamah Scidmore, David Fairchild
Genres: Angst, AU, Drama, Historical, Mystery, Romance
Rating (this chapter): G
Warnings (this chapter): None
Spoilers: None
General Summary: Bruce and Dick get caught up in political intrigue during a business trip to Washington City.
Chapter Summary: Bruce and Dick meet cherry tree activist Eliza Ruhamah Scidmore.
Date Of Completion: April 17, 2020
Date Of Posting: March 12, 2022
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1635
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Note: The entire series can be found here.
IX
SCENTED GRACE
Cherry trees,
All a-bloom,
With scented grace,
Dispersing gloom.
Sarah Jean Wendell
“Spring’s Scents”
1906 C.E.
“Cherry blossoms,” Dick said.
“What about them?” Bruce asked as he buttered his toast in the Willard Hotel’s dining room.
“There’s going to be a special ceremony on Arbor Day this year.”
“Arbor Day?”
“Yes.” Dick ate his sausage as he gestured with his fork. “One thousand cherry trees were planted out in Chevy Chase. They’re supposed to be quite a sight.”
“Maybe we should go see it.”
“Maybe we should.”
Dick’s smile always dazzled Bruce. He enjoyed doing things that elicited that smile.
“Mr. Wayne?” A young bellhop approached the table.
“Yes, I’m he.”
“Letter for you, sir.” The boy held out an envelope.
“Thank you.” Bruce tipped the boy.
“Thank you, sir.”
“Nice handwriting,” Dick said.
“A woman’s.”
“Ah, those detective skills.” Dick poured maple syrup over his last pancake.
Bruce smiled as he opened the letter. “Now that’s a coincidence.”
“What?”
“This is an invitation to tea from Eliza Ruhamah Scidmore.”
“The Cherry Blossom Lady!”
“Correct. She gives a short explanation of her cause.” Bruce waved the letter.
“A focused woman.”
“Or an obsessed one.”
“Pot, meet kettle.”
Bruce smiled. “The invitation is for today. Can you come, or do you have rehearsal?”
“Jean-Paul keeps us busy, but we have today off.”
“Good. Sounds interesting.”
“Do you have a meeting today?” Dick drank his coffee.
“No, I’ll enjoy the company of the committee tomorrow.”
Dick cut his pancake. “They sound pretty grim.”
“They are, but Teddy didn’t appoint me to have a good time.”
Dick appeared contemplative. “You said this facility was a research center for weapons?”
Bruce nodded. He intended to keep Dick apprised of the situation, but had warned him to tell no one else. He needed a sounding board, and Dick was a great one.
“Is the United States preparing for war in Europe?”
Surprised, Bruce said, “No. Why, do you think there will be war on the Continent?”
Dick sipped his coffee. “There’s been a lot of saber-rattling in recent years.”
“Isn’t that pretty much normal for Europe? In the last century alone, there’s been the Napoleonic Wars, the Revolutions of 1848, the Crimean War, and the Franco-Prussian War.”
“Oh, yeah, there is that. But it’s different this time.”
“Really, Dick, you honestly think the countries of Europe are plotting some big war? What’s the motivation?”
Dick laughed. “I must say, you Americans are charmingly naïve. Wars always have to be a moral crusade, like your Civil War, though the Mexican-American War and Spanish-American War were pretty mercenary in purpose.
“You never consider conspiracies. Lone nuts killed Presidents Garfield and McKinley. Your people would probably think Booth was one, too, if the conspiracy wasn’t so blatant.”
“You think you have us all figured out, hmm?”
“Europeans know there are conspiracies and plots to start wars. Wars are rarely moral.”
“A very cynical philosophy.”
“Again, very European.”
Bruce shook his head in amusement. “Eat your pancakes.”
“Pancake.”
& & & & & &
Bruce and Dick arrived at the Fairchild estate in Chevy Chase, Maryland. They exited the hansom cab and the driver received a generous tip to wait a few hours for them.
The cherry trees were close by the house and in full bloom. Bruce and Dick were impressed by the sight.
“Truly, a magnificent sight,” Bruce said.
“Agreed.” Dick walked closer to the trees, breathing in their scent.
The house was a two-story structure painted white with brown trim. Square pillars framed the front entrance, and the shrubbery was full and green. The door opened and the butler said, “Mr. Wayne, Miss Scidmore bids you and Mr. Grayson welcome.”
“Thank you.”
Bruce and Dick stepped up onto the porch and entered the house.
The house had a typically large foyer with polished floor, curving staircase and crystal chandelier. There were an abundance of flowers in the alcoves and on the pier table.
Well, a woman who loves cherry trees would love flowers, too. She must decorate for Fairchild.
Bruce noticed how bright the house was with its large windows and lack of dark paneling.
“This way, gentlemen,” said the gray-haired butler.
The visitors walked behind the butler to the back of the house and out into a walled garden, resplendent with spring flowers. Under an apple tree that was blooming, a woman sat at a small white table. She stood to greet her guests.
Eliza Ruhamah Scidmore was a woman of average height with a serious face and rich dark hair fashionably coiffed. The brown silk dress was high-necked and full-skirted. Not a great beauty, she nevertheless exuded a sense of purpose that was attractive.
“Welcome, gentlemen. My good friend David Fairchild is letting me use his home for tea in order to show you the cherry trees.”
“Most generous of him,” Bruce said.
“I have some trees on my property, but you get the full effect of them here.”
A maid came with tea and cookies, and they indulged as Eliza said, “David had these planted two years ago. A pity the politicians in Washington don’t appreciate beauty.”
“How so?”
“I have proposed that the Government plant a multitude of trees around the Tidal Basin. Several proposals, in fact. That Philistine Joe Cannon has blocked me every time.”
“Speaker of the House Cannon?”
“That’s the one. A bill is upcoming in this year’s session, but Cannon’s still there.” Disgust was clear on her face.
“That is a real shame, Miss Scidmore,” Dick said sympathetically. “Beauty is important.”
She smiled. It made her face charming. “A man of the arts understands.”
Dick smiled back. “Beauty is never frivolous.”
“I agree. I am also a supporter of President Roosevelt’s fight against the grasping corporations when it comes to our natural resources.”
“A noble endeavor,” said Bruce.
“Truly.” Eliza sipped her tea. “I would like to invite you gentlemen to the Arbor Day celebration.”
“When is that?” Dick asked.
“April 24th. I am to be the main speaker.”
“Perfect time for a little proselytizing?” Bruce teased.
She laughed. “Very good, Mr. Wayne.” She picked up a lemon cookie. “David will be there as well. We have no intention of giving up.”
“Persistence is necessary for success.”
Eliza nodded. “What about you, Mr. Wayne? I read in the papers that the President has appointed you to a special committee?”
“Yes, he has. I’m pleased to help in any way.”
“Mr. Roosevelt is not letting his lame duck status dampen his energy and verve.”
“I hear that Mr. Taft will be his successor.”
“Quite so. A jovial man, but I’m not sure he will lead the Progressive charge as energetically as his mentor.”
This woman has good insight, Bruce thought.
“Probably so, but I’m sure the Republicans will make sure that Mr. Taft is competent, though I must say, if George Washington hadn’t stepped away after his second term, Uncle Teddy would run a third time!”
Eliza laughed. “I believe you’re right. And I would support a third term for him.”
“Someday someone may break that tradition.”
Eliza sipped her tea. “Do you find your fellow committee members of interest?”
“Oh, yes.” Bruce named the men.
“Ezekiel Cannon? Yes, cousin to the Speaker of the House.”
“Interesting.”
“Watch your back.”
Bruce smiled. “Washington City’s motto.”
Eliza nodded firmly. “Roscoe Belknap is a buffoon, but a dangerous one. He still waves the bloody shirt.”
At Dick’s puzzled expression, Bruce explained, “When a politician waves the bloody shirt figuratively in his speeches, he invokes the memory of the Civil War. Stirs up the voters, especially in the South.”
“Ah.”
“All of them have their quirks,” Eliza said.
“Quirks is a charming way of putting it.”
She smiled knowingly. “The architecture of the city might resemble Greece, but the spirit is often Roman.”
“Ah, yes. ‘Et tu, Brute’.”
She nodded. “Money talks, but power is everything in this town.”
“You are a very astute woman, Miss Scidmore.”
“Most women are, Mr. Wayne.”
Yes, they are. They just aren’t allowed to show it.
Eliza stood. “Let us go see the trees, shall we?”
Bruce and Dick rose and followed her out of a small door to the outside. They were soon in a forest of pink and white blossoms.
“It’s quite a sight,” said Bruce, impressed all over again.
“It excites the senses while soothing the soul,” said Eliza, her stiff posture relaxing a little.
“Why would anybody object to these trees being planted at the Tidal Basin?” Dick asked.
Eliza’s expression grew stormy. “Money, mostly. The Speaker objects to spending money on ‘frippery’, as he calls it.”
Dick shook his head. “Soulless.”
“Exactly.”
The three of them spent an hour walking through the acres of trees, discussing their care and the places in Japan where Eliza had first seen them. They were still deep in conversation when they returned to the perimeter of the house and a dark-haired man hailed the trio.
“Ah, David, this is Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson.” Eliza waved toward the duo.
“Gentlemen, so glad you could come for tea.” He shook hands with his guests.
Handsome and elegant, David Fairchild looked every inch the wealthy philanthropist. Soft brown eyes quickly took his guests’ measure.
“Has Eliza dragooned you gentlemen into the Arbor Day festivities?”
“Oh, yes.” Bruce laughed. “We’ll be there.”
“Excellent.”
They chatted for awhile, then Bruce and Dick took their leave.
“You meet all kinds in Washington,” Bruce said.
“I find them pleasant. I like that their focus is Nature and beautification instead of obsession with power,” Dick said as the hansom cab bounced along the country road.
“I agree; it is refreshing.”
“Miss Scidmore is an intelligent woman.”
"And persistent. Someday there will be cherry trees in Washington. Bet on it.”
Dick grinned, and the cab’s horse clopped back to the city.
This chapter can also be read on AO3.
This entry has been cross-posted from Dreamwidth. Comment on either entry as you wish. :)