![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Double Drabble: Will You Dance?
by Honorat
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I need to find myself a writing job that pays, mate!
Summary: Set after the movie. Elizabeth finds her old society is not so eager to welcome her home. For the "Drift" challenge at Black Pearl Sails.
* * * * *
They want to despise her, she knows. That or pity. She’s heard the whispers behind fans, counted the decrease in calling cards and rich ivory invitations. What is it that she is supposed to be now? A shameless hussy, wild to a fault, such damaged goods that no man of consequence will have her?
But still they come to the governor’s ball, gawking and gossiping. She tosses her golden-brown head in triumph as she sees the reluctant jealousy in her former friends’ eyes. The music drifts over their heads as Will leads her into the next dance. There is not another young man in the room as beautiful as her blacksmith. He needs no sawdust stuffing to simulate shoulders.
The glittering ballroom, the censorious stares fade as Will guides their steps. No musicians of her father’s hiring can match the powerful symphony Will plays on the orchestra of her flesh with his lightest touch.
She should have known that a man so elegant and graceful in the intimate dance of swords would find his feet on native heath in the measured steps of the waltz.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I need to find myself a writing job that pays, mate!
Summary: Set after the movie. Elizabeth finds her old society is not so eager to welcome her home. For the "Drift" challenge at Black Pearl Sails.
* * * * *
They want to despise her, she knows. That or pity. She’s heard the whispers behind fans, counted the decrease in calling cards and rich ivory invitations. What is it that she is supposed to be now? A shameless hussy, wild to a fault, such damaged goods that no man of consequence will have her?
But still they come to the governor’s ball, gawking and gossiping. She tosses her golden-brown head in triumph as she sees the reluctant jealousy in her former friends’ eyes. The music drifts over their heads as Will leads her into the next dance. There is not another young man in the room as beautiful as her blacksmith. He needs no sawdust stuffing to simulate shoulders.
The glittering ballroom, the censorious stares fade as Will guides their steps. No musicians of her father’s hiring can match the powerful symphony Will plays on the orchestra of her flesh with his lightest touch.
She should have known that a man so elegant and graceful in the intimate dance of swords would find his feet on native heath in the measured steps of the waltz.
no subject
no subject