"In the Small Hours" for debriswoman (DDE 2012)
Title: In the Small Hours
Author: litlover12
Rating: PG
Fandom: Our Mutual Friend (Charles Dickens)
Characters: Jenny Wren, Eugene Wrayburn, Lizzie Hexam
Word Count: 250
Summary: Out of suffering, a friendship is born.
Author's note: For debriswoman. The prompt was “A day starts badly.” You asked for something with a positive edge, and not too dark. I hope this fits the bill-I realize it’s not exactly light and fluffy, but I think the tone is generally positive! Special thanks to goldvermilion87 for providing valuable feedback and cleaning up my participles.
In the Small Hours
In the small hours, the doll’s dressmaker was roused from slumber by a faint sound. She sat up in her chair, listening intently; then she took her stick and made her way noiselessly to the bed.
Eugene lay awake, breathing hard, great drops of sweat on his forehead. He was biting his lips, but another moan escaped him.
“Jenny,” he gasped, seeing her. “I’m sorry-“
“Hush, now,” Miss Wren ordered in low but peremptory tones, as she poured his medicine. Skillfully she helped him to drink, then laid him down and bathed his forehead until the contorted face relaxed.
Quietly putting the bedside table to rights, Jenny glanced across at Lizzie, asleep in her chair.
“Don’t wake her,” Eugene whispered. “I’m-better now.”
Jenny nodded, and sat down by him. A shadow crossed her own face as she attempted to settle herself comfortably.
“You should-go and lie down,” Eugene said softly. Ill as he was, he had developed a wonderful quickness of perception where Jenny was concerned. There was a new sympathy between them, born of suffering, that neither Lizzie nor Mortimer, for all their affection and devotion, could share.
But Jenny would not let him indulge in dark thoughts or worries. “Nonsense, young man,” she retorted, with a toss of her head. “I’m perfectly well. Go to sleep.”
Eugene smiled a little, wearily. “Thank you, Jenny,” he murmured, as his eyes closed.
The doll’s dressmaker watched until he breathed peacefully, before letting sleep steal over her again.
Author: litlover12
Rating: PG
Fandom: Our Mutual Friend (Charles Dickens)
Characters: Jenny Wren, Eugene Wrayburn, Lizzie Hexam
Word Count: 250
Summary: Out of suffering, a friendship is born.
Author's note: For debriswoman. The prompt was “A day starts badly.” You asked for something with a positive edge, and not too dark. I hope this fits the bill-I realize it’s not exactly light and fluffy, but I think the tone is generally positive! Special thanks to goldvermilion87 for providing valuable feedback and cleaning up my participles.
In the Small Hours
In the small hours, the doll’s dressmaker was roused from slumber by a faint sound. She sat up in her chair, listening intently; then she took her stick and made her way noiselessly to the bed.
Eugene lay awake, breathing hard, great drops of sweat on his forehead. He was biting his lips, but another moan escaped him.
“Jenny,” he gasped, seeing her. “I’m sorry-“
“Hush, now,” Miss Wren ordered in low but peremptory tones, as she poured his medicine. Skillfully she helped him to drink, then laid him down and bathed his forehead until the contorted face relaxed.
Quietly putting the bedside table to rights, Jenny glanced across at Lizzie, asleep in her chair.
“Don’t wake her,” Eugene whispered. “I’m-better now.”
Jenny nodded, and sat down by him. A shadow crossed her own face as she attempted to settle herself comfortably.
“You should-go and lie down,” Eugene said softly. Ill as he was, he had developed a wonderful quickness of perception where Jenny was concerned. There was a new sympathy between them, born of suffering, that neither Lizzie nor Mortimer, for all their affection and devotion, could share.
But Jenny would not let him indulge in dark thoughts or worries. “Nonsense, young man,” she retorted, with a toss of her head. “I’m perfectly well. Go to sleep.”
Eugene smiled a little, wearily. “Thank you, Jenny,” he murmured, as his eyes closed.
The doll’s dressmaker watched until he breathed peacefully, before letting sleep steal over her again.