Inception AU Rec.
Patience, a Steady Hand by Helenish (Inception; Arthur/Eames; NC-17)
Otherwise known as the novel-length "Viking AU". Helenish takes classic romance novel conventions and reworks them into a beautiful, brutal story that doesn't repeatedly hit you over the head with its emotions, but leaves you to slowly figure out the passions hidden within the characters. It is something like a cross between Daphne du Maurier and E. M. Forster's "Maurice", where the heroes, knowingly or unknowingly, save one another from lives of loneliness and quiet desperation. Things that really struck me as unique: the sensitivity with which Helenish treats what I call "male melodrama" issues, conflict about home and work, status and conscience; and the finely drawn supporting characters. There are no clear villains in this story; difference, social expectations, prejudice, and a culture of violence are the main obstacles, none of them easy to defeat.
Arthur’s hut is high above the village, in the shadow of the forest; it’s a long, steep walk up a rutted road that turns into a sheep track near the end. Eames spends much of the first days working in the kitchen in the Great Hall, washing dishes, scrubbing floors; by the end of the day, his knees and feet and hands ache, and he’s mostly relieved when Arthur shows up and jerks his chin at him or says,
"Enough," and leads him outside. There are always warriors in the courtyard who stop Arthur to talk; Eames gets used to standing and waiting, staring up at the hut, which looks very far away, barely visible on the hillside in the grey twilight.
"Why far?" Eames asks, at the end of the first week, the first sentence he’s managed to put together successfully. Arthur’s walking next to him with a loose, rangy stride, his shield slung over his shoulder, his knuckles raw.
"Quiet," Arthur says, after a moment. Eames considers whether that’s an answer or an order and can’t decide.
This entry was originally posted at http://the-grynne.dreamwidth.org/924896.html and has
comments.
Otherwise known as the novel-length "Viking AU". Helenish takes classic romance novel conventions and reworks them into a beautiful, brutal story that doesn't repeatedly hit you over the head with its emotions, but leaves you to slowly figure out the passions hidden within the characters. It is something like a cross between Daphne du Maurier and E. M. Forster's "Maurice", where the heroes, knowingly or unknowingly, save one another from lives of loneliness and quiet desperation. Things that really struck me as unique: the sensitivity with which Helenish treats what I call "male melodrama" issues, conflict about home and work, status and conscience; and the finely drawn supporting characters. There are no clear villains in this story; difference, social expectations, prejudice, and a culture of violence are the main obstacles, none of them easy to defeat.
Arthur’s hut is high above the village, in the shadow of the forest; it’s a long, steep walk up a rutted road that turns into a sheep track near the end. Eames spends much of the first days working in the kitchen in the Great Hall, washing dishes, scrubbing floors; by the end of the day, his knees and feet and hands ache, and he’s mostly relieved when Arthur shows up and jerks his chin at him or says,
"Enough," and leads him outside. There are always warriors in the courtyard who stop Arthur to talk; Eames gets used to standing and waiting, staring up at the hut, which looks very far away, barely visible on the hillside in the grey twilight.
"Why far?" Eames asks, at the end of the first week, the first sentence he’s managed to put together successfully. Arthur’s walking next to him with a loose, rangy stride, his shield slung over his shoulder, his knuckles raw.
"Quiet," Arthur says, after a moment. Eames considers whether that’s an answer or an order and can’t decide.
This entry was originally posted at http://the-grynne.dreamwidth.org/924896.html and has
comments.