Roaring 20s 1
Posted: Thu Nov 21, 2002 11:23 pm
Author's notes: Well, here goes nothing. This is an AU fic that grew out of my obsession with thrillers of the 20s and 30s, and probably shouldn't be taken too seriously. I'm currently completely stalled in the middle, but hopefully I'll overcome it somehow. Reviews are highly appreciated!
Amanda
Disclaimer: I don't own the GW characters. I just like to borrow them and dress them up in period costume from time to time.
Chapter 1
April 1923
The city of London was rejoicing in a holiday from the notorious fog and drizzle of an English spring. The sun of an unexpectedly warm, clear morning shone into the window of a second-story bedroom where two girls of about seventeen were having a serious discussion.
"I can't go out like this" Lady Relena Darlian wailed, eying her reflection in the full-length mirror in alarm. Her own face looked back at her much as usual, deep blue-green eyes widened in shock. The dress was lovely it just...seemed to be missing a few yards of fabric in the skirt.
"Really, 'Lena, you can't do a London Season dressed like a convent schoolgirl'' her best friend cajoled. Hilde Sheraton (named for her German mother) perched on the bed, fiddling with a piece of ribbon. Her sleek black hair was cut in the shortest of bobs, although her bangs still refused to be completely tamed, and her blue eyes were dancing with mischief. Her dress indicated that she certainly had no quibbles with the current rage for skirts whose length would probably have made them illegal a decade or two ago.
"Well, for most of my life I have been one," Relena felt obliged to point out. Throughout her adolescence, her family had never stayed in one place for more than a year, and as a result she had seen a lot of schools. Most of them had in fact, been taught by nuns.
"All the more reason you should wear it now, then!" Hilde insisted. "You're back home now and theress no need to worry about the disapproval of a bunch of nuns in some dusty European convent!"
Relena laughed despite herself and turned back to the mirror. It wasn't really so shocking; she thought wistfully. Girls all over England are wearing skirts this short. There's no reason why I should stand out. And it really was a lovely dress, her favorite shade of cerulean blue, cut in simple, flowing lines, with delicate blue-on-blue embroidery on the bodice. The dropped waistline was unexpectedly comfortable, and the light fabric gave her a welcome feeling of freedom.
Freedom...it was just beginning to sink in. She was back in England, to stay for at least a while. For a while there was no need to watch her every move and word to be sure the British Ambassador's daughter was making a good impression. No endless evenings of being painstakingly polite to foreign dignitaries and dodging sly questions about her father's opinion. For now she could relax, spend time with Hilde, and forget the pressure of constant scrutiny.
It wasn't that she didn't understand the importance of her father's job. At one time she had resented it, but that phase hadn't lasted long. Having spent much of her life in different parts of Europe, she had seen the gaping wounds left by the Great War whose very worst ravages England had escaped; the bombed-out remnants of towns, the trenches that still cut across France like unhealed scars, and the stories they told of uncounted people who would never be coming home. She knew anything was worth it to avoid having that horror repeated. Which was why the European Sphere Peace Conference in two weeks time was so vital. And if she found herself back in her old, sometimes stifling role, she would play it as best she could.
Pushing her grim thoughts aside, she turned for Hilde's inspection. "Will I pass?" she asked, striking a pose.
"Almost." Hilde jumped up to rummage on her dressing table for something. She came up with a long rope of beads, which she looped twice around Relena's neck. "Better. And this should top it off." She produced a perky cloche hat, wrapped the piece of ribbon she had been fiddling with around it and tied into a knot that opened up like a flower. "Perfect. Now we're ready to go!"
"Go where?" Relena asked, wondering if the conversation had gotten away from her while she was wrapped up in her own thoughts.
"Shopping, of course!" Hilde declared triumphantly. "You're going to need a whole new wardrobe for this summer!"
"Hilde, what's gotten into you? When did you become such a clotheshorse?" Hilde had always been the tomboyish one of the pair, more interested in bicycles and horses than fashion. Could she have changed that drastically since Relena's last long stay in England?
Hilde sat down on the bed again, suddenly more serious. "I suppose I'm enjoying myself while I can, since this will probably be my last summer of pure fun and frivolity. Do you ever think about the future, Relena?"
"Often," she replied, taking a seat next to her friend. "Neither of us has ever been exactly conventional, have we? It's so much easier for other girls who haven't a thought in their heads besides finding a husband." In fact, that very thought had been occupying her mind on the journey home. She would be eighteen next year, and it was definitely time to start making some decisions.
"You're going to take the entrance exams for the Women's College at Oxford, aren't you?" Hilde asked.
Relena nodded; that decision had already been made some time ago. Although she had had a fairly broad education for her age, she still lacked direction and she was hoping a university career would help her to a decision. To tell the truth, her father's profession, with all its attendant frustrations, appealed to her strongly. To really know that you could make a difference in the world...but she knew it was out of the question. Even in the supposedly enlightened third decade of the twentieth century, diplomacy was a man's realm. The only place for a woman was as a wife and hostess, and Relena knew she wanted to do more than plan polite parties. And if she ever married, she wanted it to be with someone who saw her as a person, not a career asset.
"I'll probably be taking them with you," Hilde said. "What do you think? Do I have it in me to be a real bluestocking?"
Relena smiled, remembering a mud-spattered eight-year-old Hilde marching into the drawing room to proudly announce to her parents that she could throw a ball farther than any of her (male) cousins. No, neither of them had ever been quite like most other girls. Although she often accompanied Hilde on her outdoor adventures, she had been set apart more by her love of reading and fascination with subjects her peers considered boring.
"You have the brains to do it, if that's what you want," Relena told her truthfully. "But is there something else you want more?"
"I'm not sure," Hilde said, staring off into the distance. "I do have one more option. You remember my Aunt Claire?"
"Yes, I do." Hilde's widowed aunt had taken over the running of her husband's breeding stable, which produced some of the best racehorses in the country.
"She's not as young as she used to be, and none of my cousins are much interested in it. She told me last month that if I liked, she'd take me in as a sort of apprentice and I could take over when she retires. Part of me likes the idea, but I'm still not sure. I think I should give the university a try first. Aunt Claire is hardly on her deathbed; I could always give her my answer later."
"That's sensible. If I were you, I wouldn't rush into it."
"And what about you, 'Lena? Do you still want to change the world?"
"Hmm?
"Don't you remember? It was during an air raid, a year or so before the end of the war. We were all hunkered down in the basement with the lights out, listening to the explosions, and your cousins were all terrified. But somehow you calmed them down, and told them the war would be over someday. You got EXTREMELY heated and said if you could do it, you'd make all the nations drop their weapons and work out their differences like civilized people!"
"Hilde! I was only thirteen!" she exclaimed, blushing. The reminder of her youthful ambition was a painful echo of her recent ponderings about her life's direction.
Fortunately, Hilde wasn't planning to let her brood. "Well, who knows what the future will bring? For right now let's let the future take care of itself and go have some fun!" Bouncing up, Hilde grabbed Relena's hand and started to drag her towards the door.
While the two girls went out to enjoy the beautiful spring weather, in a dim apartment in a very different part of London, a boy was listening intently to a series of noises that might have sounded random to any casual listener who might have stumbled on the frequency by accident. His hand flew over a notebook, copying down the cipher, until the transmission ended with a tooth-hurting screech.
It was only a moment's work to decode the message; he carried the key in his head. ROMEFELLER DELEGATION ARRIVING DOVER TOMORROW. AGENTS ALREADY IN COUNTRY. CONFERENCE MUST NOT BE DISRUPTED. YOUR MISSION-ELIMINATE ROMEFELLER AGENTS IN LONDON. IF POSSIBLE PREVENT CONTACT BETWEEN LEADERS AND MEN ALREADY IN PLACE. FURTHER INFORMATION COMING. END
The boy absently shook a lock of unruly hair aside as he reached for a device that generated the same seemingly meaningless sounds. It took him only a few seconds. MISSION ACCEPTED. END
Amanda
Disclaimer: I don't own the GW characters. I just like to borrow them and dress them up in period costume from time to time.
Chapter 1
April 1923
The city of London was rejoicing in a holiday from the notorious fog and drizzle of an English spring. The sun of an unexpectedly warm, clear morning shone into the window of a second-story bedroom where two girls of about seventeen were having a serious discussion.
"I can't go out like this" Lady Relena Darlian wailed, eying her reflection in the full-length mirror in alarm. Her own face looked back at her much as usual, deep blue-green eyes widened in shock. The dress was lovely it just...seemed to be missing a few yards of fabric in the skirt.
"Really, 'Lena, you can't do a London Season dressed like a convent schoolgirl'' her best friend cajoled. Hilde Sheraton (named for her German mother) perched on the bed, fiddling with a piece of ribbon. Her sleek black hair was cut in the shortest of bobs, although her bangs still refused to be completely tamed, and her blue eyes were dancing with mischief. Her dress indicated that she certainly had no quibbles with the current rage for skirts whose length would probably have made them illegal a decade or two ago.
"Well, for most of my life I have been one," Relena felt obliged to point out. Throughout her adolescence, her family had never stayed in one place for more than a year, and as a result she had seen a lot of schools. Most of them had in fact, been taught by nuns.
"All the more reason you should wear it now, then!" Hilde insisted. "You're back home now and theress no need to worry about the disapproval of a bunch of nuns in some dusty European convent!"
Relena laughed despite herself and turned back to the mirror. It wasn't really so shocking; she thought wistfully. Girls all over England are wearing skirts this short. There's no reason why I should stand out. And it really was a lovely dress, her favorite shade of cerulean blue, cut in simple, flowing lines, with delicate blue-on-blue embroidery on the bodice. The dropped waistline was unexpectedly comfortable, and the light fabric gave her a welcome feeling of freedom.
Freedom...it was just beginning to sink in. She was back in England, to stay for at least a while. For a while there was no need to watch her every move and word to be sure the British Ambassador's daughter was making a good impression. No endless evenings of being painstakingly polite to foreign dignitaries and dodging sly questions about her father's opinion. For now she could relax, spend time with Hilde, and forget the pressure of constant scrutiny.
It wasn't that she didn't understand the importance of her father's job. At one time she had resented it, but that phase hadn't lasted long. Having spent much of her life in different parts of Europe, she had seen the gaping wounds left by the Great War whose very worst ravages England had escaped; the bombed-out remnants of towns, the trenches that still cut across France like unhealed scars, and the stories they told of uncounted people who would never be coming home. She knew anything was worth it to avoid having that horror repeated. Which was why the European Sphere Peace Conference in two weeks time was so vital. And if she found herself back in her old, sometimes stifling role, she would play it as best she could.
Pushing her grim thoughts aside, she turned for Hilde's inspection. "Will I pass?" she asked, striking a pose.
"Almost." Hilde jumped up to rummage on her dressing table for something. She came up with a long rope of beads, which she looped twice around Relena's neck. "Better. And this should top it off." She produced a perky cloche hat, wrapped the piece of ribbon she had been fiddling with around it and tied into a knot that opened up like a flower. "Perfect. Now we're ready to go!"
"Go where?" Relena asked, wondering if the conversation had gotten away from her while she was wrapped up in her own thoughts.
"Shopping, of course!" Hilde declared triumphantly. "You're going to need a whole new wardrobe for this summer!"
"Hilde, what's gotten into you? When did you become such a clotheshorse?" Hilde had always been the tomboyish one of the pair, more interested in bicycles and horses than fashion. Could she have changed that drastically since Relena's last long stay in England?
Hilde sat down on the bed again, suddenly more serious. "I suppose I'm enjoying myself while I can, since this will probably be my last summer of pure fun and frivolity. Do you ever think about the future, Relena?"
"Often," she replied, taking a seat next to her friend. "Neither of us has ever been exactly conventional, have we? It's so much easier for other girls who haven't a thought in their heads besides finding a husband." In fact, that very thought had been occupying her mind on the journey home. She would be eighteen next year, and it was definitely time to start making some decisions.
"You're going to take the entrance exams for the Women's College at Oxford, aren't you?" Hilde asked.
Relena nodded; that decision had already been made some time ago. Although she had had a fairly broad education for her age, she still lacked direction and she was hoping a university career would help her to a decision. To tell the truth, her father's profession, with all its attendant frustrations, appealed to her strongly. To really know that you could make a difference in the world...but she knew it was out of the question. Even in the supposedly enlightened third decade of the twentieth century, diplomacy was a man's realm. The only place for a woman was as a wife and hostess, and Relena knew she wanted to do more than plan polite parties. And if she ever married, she wanted it to be with someone who saw her as a person, not a career asset.
"I'll probably be taking them with you," Hilde said. "What do you think? Do I have it in me to be a real bluestocking?"
Relena smiled, remembering a mud-spattered eight-year-old Hilde marching into the drawing room to proudly announce to her parents that she could throw a ball farther than any of her (male) cousins. No, neither of them had ever been quite like most other girls. Although she often accompanied Hilde on her outdoor adventures, she had been set apart more by her love of reading and fascination with subjects her peers considered boring.
"You have the brains to do it, if that's what you want," Relena told her truthfully. "But is there something else you want more?"
"I'm not sure," Hilde said, staring off into the distance. "I do have one more option. You remember my Aunt Claire?"
"Yes, I do." Hilde's widowed aunt had taken over the running of her husband's breeding stable, which produced some of the best racehorses in the country.
"She's not as young as she used to be, and none of my cousins are much interested in it. She told me last month that if I liked, she'd take me in as a sort of apprentice and I could take over when she retires. Part of me likes the idea, but I'm still not sure. I think I should give the university a try first. Aunt Claire is hardly on her deathbed; I could always give her my answer later."
"That's sensible. If I were you, I wouldn't rush into it."
"And what about you, 'Lena? Do you still want to change the world?"
"Hmm?
"Don't you remember? It was during an air raid, a year or so before the end of the war. We were all hunkered down in the basement with the lights out, listening to the explosions, and your cousins were all terrified. But somehow you calmed them down, and told them the war would be over someday. You got EXTREMELY heated and said if you could do it, you'd make all the nations drop their weapons and work out their differences like civilized people!"
"Hilde! I was only thirteen!" she exclaimed, blushing. The reminder of her youthful ambition was a painful echo of her recent ponderings about her life's direction.
Fortunately, Hilde wasn't planning to let her brood. "Well, who knows what the future will bring? For right now let's let the future take care of itself and go have some fun!" Bouncing up, Hilde grabbed Relena's hand and started to drag her towards the door.
While the two girls went out to enjoy the beautiful spring weather, in a dim apartment in a very different part of London, a boy was listening intently to a series of noises that might have sounded random to any casual listener who might have stumbled on the frequency by accident. His hand flew over a notebook, copying down the cipher, until the transmission ended with a tooth-hurting screech.
It was only a moment's work to decode the message; he carried the key in his head. ROMEFELLER DELEGATION ARRIVING DOVER TOMORROW. AGENTS ALREADY IN COUNTRY. CONFERENCE MUST NOT BE DISRUPTED. YOUR MISSION-ELIMINATE ROMEFELLER AGENTS IN LONDON. IF POSSIBLE PREVENT CONTACT BETWEEN LEADERS AND MEN ALREADY IN PLACE. FURTHER INFORMATION COMING. END
The boy absently shook a lock of unruly hair aside as he reached for a device that generated the same seemingly meaningless sounds. It took him only a few seconds. MISSION ACCEPTED. END