☆ Round One!

[jsmn_kink]

Welcome to the first round of the Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell Kink Meme at jsmn_kinkmeme!

Below are some basic guidelines to get started. Please make sure you also check out our complete Rules & Guidelines to minimise any confusion.

Guidelines:
■ Anonymously comment with your request – a character/pairing/nthsome, and a kink or prompt.
■ Only one prompt per post.
■ Fillers please link your fills in the Fills Post!
■ Have fun! :)

Keep in mind:
■ Any kinks welcomed!
■ The fill/request does not need to be sexual or porny.
■ Multiple fills are allowed.
■ Fills can be any sort of creative work: fic, art, song, photomanip, etc.
■ Beware of spoilers! Prompters and requesters are encouraged to warn for spoilers, but this rule is not enforced.
■ Warning for non-con, dub-con, abuse, slurs/language, and other potentially disturbing subjects is encouraged but be aware we do not enforce this.

Links:
☆ Current Prompt Post
☆ Mod Post
☆ Fills Post
☆ Discussion Post
☆ Misfire deletion requests

Comments

Re: Fill: What the Master Doesn't Know (6.2/?)

[(Anonymous)]

Childermass waited for almost three hours.

It was dark when Edlyn emerged, staggering across the street toward him.

"You're drunk," he said when she stopped and swayed toward him before righting herself.

"Only a little," she defended.

"How much did you have?"

"Two pints."

"Have you ever had such before?"

"Only a tot of gin from me mum when poorly."

"Well," Childermass sighed, "tell me what - if anything - you learned."

"That Mr. Lascelles, he sat in a shadowy booth at the back with the lady-- she was older and all grey about the edges…"

"That's Mrs. Pryer."

"Yes. He called her Twyla. I sat at the end of the bar nearest and had hot soup."

"And?"

"It was very good."

Childermass glared.

"I jest, sir. I could hear some of what they said, but not all. They spoke of trivialities the way rich folk do. Then he asked about how she was getting on in her new position. I figured she must be in service for the way she spoke. She said she saw her master rarely, and that all was as could be expected in such a place."

"And they spoke so for three hours?"

"Nay." Edlyn swayed toward Childermass, caught herself on his chest, and slowly righted herself again.

"Mr. Lascelles came right up beside me and spoke to the barkeep about a room for an hour. They did not notice me at all or should not have spoke so freely, I think. Mr. Lascelles paid and went up, and Twyla followed not long after.

"I thought it best to stay for to be sure I got what you would pay me, and I could not just sit there, the barman eyeing me so funny, I felt I should order something. They had stout. The woman came back down after an hour or so and went out the back way. I waited but did not see Mr. Lascelles again."

"What else can you tell me, girl?"

"Mr. Lascelles is much impressed with himself, and other people not at all. Your Mrs. Pryer is very quiet and I think she was afraid of him. Mr. Lascelles asked her a number of times about a man she works with. He has a funny name."

"Childermass."

"That's it! Yes. But she only said he was diligent in his duties, if a bit lax with his toilet and insolent at times, but Mr. Lascelles seemed to know all this already."

Childermass sighed before producing a handful of coins, which he poured into her eager hands.

"Now I have to get you home, I suppose," he said, eyeing her drooping eyelids.

"Yes please," she said, leaning into him, half asleep already as she tucked the coins away into a reticule sewn from scraps.

He wrapped an arm about her waist and followed her mumbled directions back to Fleet Street and then toward the Thames. She led him to a ramshackle structure near the water, the stench of the entire place rather obvious.

A group of ragged children ran out to meet them, including the boy who had earlier run from them. They were all in amazement that she had not been clapped in irons and wanted to know what he'd been doing with her for so long. He told them he'd hired her for a job and that she made an excellent spy, but oughtn't drink quite so much.

Finally, a raggedy woman of middle age ambled out, brandishing a rolling pin and demanding to know what exactly he'd been doing with her daughter.

Before any time had been allotted for an answer, she attempted to strike him over the head.

Childermass plucked the offending item out of the woman's hand and explained that he'd paid her for a job, nothing untoward, and it was on her own account that she'd drunk too much, and if Edlyn ever had a mind to turn to honest work, she'd likely be quite good at it. He returned the rolling pin then, and tipped his hat, and said, "John Childermass at your service," before turning his back on the whole lot of them and disappearing into the darkness.

= = = = =

He expected to find the help at their dinner when he let himself in the back door, but only found Mrs. Pryer quietly crying into a greyish handkerchief.

She sniffled as he entered and attempted to compose herself.

Childermass made nothing like a fuss, only hung up his hat and coat like usual and sauntered about the shadows of the room before approaching the table with a bottle in hand.

"You are unwell, Mrs. Pryer."

"No. Not-- It is only… something in the air. Very dry…"

"I've something to help with that, then," he said, sitting at an angle to her and setting down two glasses.

"You are very free with the master's liquor."

"Who says it is the master's?" he responded, pulling the cork from the ruby red wine.

"Well, then, I thank you."

He poured out the wine for both of them and after they had settled into their first glass, he asked, "Are you in some trouble, Mrs. Pryer? Anything I can help you with?"

She stared into her cup then, thinking. "There isn't a soul on earth can help me," she said.

"That is a sorry state, then," he answered, watching her carefully all the while.

She drank only sparingly, and Childermass could see her fretful mind at work, as the worse and worser thoughts crossed her face like descending storms of clouds.

"Mr. Childermass. My first night here, you read those cards for me. You said things no one could rightly know… Did you know ought of me before I came here?"

"Only that Mr. Lascelles was adamant about your taking a position here."

"But… so you didn't know I'd had a child? And lost it? Or that I'd been betrayed? By Mr. Lascelles himself?"

Childermass shook his head. "I did not know. Only the cards told me."

"But you never did say what the last one meant. The last card… what was it?"

"The Queen of Coins. It augers something good for you. Freedom from your troubles."

"But how can you be so sure?"

He shrugged. "The Cards of Marseilles have their own surety. I only read them."

"Oliver told me you'd been gone all day and missed dinner. …they all ate early, for the master took it in mind to have an early dinner."

"I'm gone from here much of the time. And the master eats when he pleases. And Oliver knows I look out for myself when I am not home for meals."

"Where did you go?"

"I followed you."

Mrs. Pryer sucked in a breath and made a tight, unhappy line of her lips as she bowed her head and tried not to cry. "Will I be dismissed, then?"

"And for what should I turn you out?"

"For betraying the house… for laying with a man not my husband."

"Do you wish to leave?"

"No, I-- Mr. Lascelles pays my way when I cannot make my own. If I am dismissed, I do not know what should happen to me…"

"Have no fear. I've no intention of turning you out, so long as you listen to what I say now."

Mrs. Pryer rallied her strength to look him in the eyes.

"Whatever Mr. Lascelles holds over you, I do not care. But I will not have you telling him anything at all of what goes on in the house… He's here often enough and can look all he likes for himself above stairs. He seeks to have me turned out and no mistake, but I can tell you right now that no inducement he could make to Mr. Norrell would bring such a thing about. I shall leave of my own accord one day, may be, but Mr. Norrell will not see me go, not for all Mr. Lascelles' pleas and complaints. Now, if you consider your salary fair, and have no complaints of your working conditions here, I see no reason why you should not stay as long as you like in Mr. Norrell's employ."

Mrs. Pryer breathed heavily as she turned all this over in her mind. Finally, she wondered, "And what of Mr. Lascelles? When I do not meet him, he shall surely tell Mr. Norrell about… about my unsuitableness."

"Will he?" Childermass asked, with something of a smile. "Will he tell Mr. Norrell that the housekeeper he himself so highly recommended is in any way inferior or disreputable?"

"He might. If… if he took great offense at my leaving off his demands."

"I think you'll find," Childermass said as he poured her more wine, "that when it comes down to it, I have greater sway over Mr. Norrell than all the Lascelles and Drawlights of London together, even if your past should come to light. Now," he said, sitting back and crossing one leg over his knee as he took a sip of wine, "shall you tell me your story? So that there may be no unpleasant surprises later?"

"And if I should like to keep my secrets to myself?"

"Then they are yours. Only mind: I will not betray you, like others have. A secret is as safe with me as a stone in the King's pocket."

Mrs. Pryer considered this for a long time, biting the insides of her cheeks as she pondered the matter.

Finally she said, "You seem a very fair man."

"Despite following you against your knowledge?"

"Well," she granted, "You had reason to."

"Aye," he agreed.

"My father was from Harrogate," she said, "and was in the King's service. He met my mother - who was from Saxony, but serving a Spanish Marquesa - shortly after the Battle of Valencia de Alcantara. They fell in love and she left her service to follow him and he brought her home with him at the end of the war." She shrugged. "His family disapproved of his marrying a foreigner, but such was his will. They cut him off and he was forced to return to military service to earn a living. He left my mother with me to care for during a hard northern winter. She took ill and never quite recovered. Father died abroad-- the West Indies. I was orphaned at the age of six, and his parents would not take me in, and no one knew anything more of my mother's family.

"So I was sent to an orphanage, and received my education, what there was to be had of it. I thought I might serve somewhere as a governess, if my learning was good enough. But no one ever responded to my letters, so when a newly married couple was looking for a ladies' serving maid, I took the position. But the husband was not content with his wife alone and took a liking to me as well. He would not have turned me out, I think, for he liked me well enough, only I had gotten with child. His friend, Mr. Lascelles, took pity on me and said he would help me… You can guess the rest. Mr. Lascelles took what he wanted and paid me for it, like a proper whore, and when I was too fat to please him, he sent me off to serve an old man in a cottage in Shropshire, who did not mind that I was round with child.

"It was a difficult birth, and Mr. Lascelles said I must send my child to an orphanage, for there was no such thing as a respectable unmarried woman who had a child. I… I longed to keep her, for she was mine. She was my own daughter, no matter how I came by her. But he convinced me in the end that it was not only my choice, but my only choice.

"Mr. Lascelles installed me in a home where he wished to know more of the family. I did my work as a housemaid and paid more attention than I should and answered back to Mr. Lascelles, who still took what he wanted from me, when it pleased him to do so. And so it has been for too many years now, Mr. Childermass."

"Would you have it come to an end, then?" he asked.

"Is it even possible?"

"I have found that many things are possible, when one is willing to seek a solution. Pay no attention to Mr. Lascelles, and do not believe anything he says, no matter what it is. He is a snake. And he has made you his snakelet. You are one of ours now, and answer only to me. Do your duty to Hanover Square and to Mr. Norrell. That is all I ask. I shall handle Mr. Lascelles."

Mrs. Pryer had abandoned her drink to better clasp her frayed handkerchief in two hands. "Can it be so easy?"

"I think you will find it is not. The other servants will have questions, and Lascelles may yet make trouble for us. But I shall stand by you."

"Why?"

"Because that is what ought to be done. Because I myself am a bastard. Because you have such a need as I can fulfill. Take your pick." He drank then, emptying his glass. "Do you meet him every Wednesday?"

"Yes."

"Then you have a week to make your decision."

"I-- I have already decided. I will not be beholden to Mr. Lascelles, not if you can help me avoid it."

"All is well, then," Childermass said, rising to deposit his glass - and Mrs. Pryer's, when she held it out - in the kitchen. He took his turn about the house, securing it, and returned to the servants' hall to see to the fire and put out the candles.

"Shall I see you upstairs, Mrs. Pryer?"

She slowly nodded and rose to her feet, and then led their slow ascension up to the servants' corridor.

She opened her door and stepped aside as though to invite him in.

Childermass merely stood upon the threshold, regarding her.

"I thought you would…" Mrs. Pryer began. "When a man escorts a woman to her room…"

"Let me make one thing very clear, Mrs. Pryer. I like women. Very much, in fact. But never against their will. Not coerced, nor through some 'understanding', nor because one feels owed to the other. I hope you will not dwell too much on what is past, but can look toward a new future. And I will help you how I might. You will sleep well, I trust?" He sketched something of a bow to her before turning to climb the steps to the attic.

Mrs. Pryer wonderingly closed the door.

= = = = =