Fic: The Raven And The Nightingale Book III: Cherry Blossoms (4/22)
Title: The Raven And The Nightingale Book III: Cherry Blossoms (4/22)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters (this chapter): Bruce/Dick, Hotel Clerk
Genres: Angst, AU, Grama, Historical, Holiday, Mystery, Romance
Rating (this chapter): G
Warnings (this chapter): Use of the word 'Negro'.
Spoilers: None
General Summary: Bruce and Dick get caught up in political intrigue on a business trip to Washington City.
Chapter Summary: Bruce and Dick arrive in Washington City.
Date Of Completion: October 19, 2015
Date Of Posting: January 28, 2022
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1366
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Note: The entire series can be found here.
IV
SPRINGTIME IN WASHINGTON
Blossoms bloom
While in some back room,
Washington works.
Mack Twist
American Humorist
1903 C.E.
Spring was in full bloom in the nation’s capital. There were apple and cherry trees at their peak with lovely blossoms delighting the eye, and the marble monument to Washington gleamed in the spring sunlight.
Dick was eager to do the sightseeing tour, and Bruce promised that they could start that afternoon. They wended their way through the crowds at Union Station, following their redcap as he pushed their luggage in a trolley cart.
Rainbow light streamed in through the jewel-like panes of the windows, creating faceted patterns on the marble floor. Bulletin boards were placed strategically around the station with schedules as vendors were busy filling orders for coffee, pastries and sandwiches. The ticket windows were doing a brisk business.
Brand-new, the station sparkled without years of long use dulling its shine. Done in the Beaux-Arts style, its central archway was based on the Roman Arch of Constantine. The main hall had a 96-foot, high-vaulted ceiling, grand in its scope.
The flow of passengers appeared chaotic, but to the discerning viewer, a pattern emerged: passengers heading for the tracks and those coming from that area; people crossing to the vendors; still others to the water closets; others to the ticket windows, and finally, those exiting the station proper. The redcap led Bruce and Dick outside.
Hansom cabs were lined up for business. Bruce eyed the amount of luggage and engaged two cabs. The redcap signaled to a colleague for help, and Bruce generously tipped both men. Both Negroes smiled and tipped their caps.
“Where to, suh?” asked the black driver.
“The Willard Hotel, please,” said Bruce.
Once they were settled inside the cab, the driver flicked the whip over his horses and they responded by a brisk clip-clop down the street.
As always, Dick absorbed the sights and sounds of a new place. His head was on a swivel as he took in the elegant carriages that mixed with drays and wagons helmed by workingmen.
“The fancy rigs are mostly Congressmen’s conveyances,” Bruce explained.
Dick nodded. “Congress is divided into the House of Representatives and the Senate.”
“Correct. The number of Representatives is determined by the population of each state, and each state receives two Senators, regardless of population.”
“I see. That’s to even things out?”
“Right. A state should have representation according to the number of people it contains, but that puts the sparsely-populated states at a disadvantage. Therefore, a compromise was struck and everyone was happy.”
Dick seemed satisfied with that explanation. He kept his gaze on the street, watching the fashionably-dressed ladies stroll on the arms of well-dressed gentlemen or in the company of other ladies while twirling colorful parasols. Boys both black and white ran on important errands, weaving through the more sedate crowds.
They passed several stores that advertised clothing, hats, and tobacco. There were restaurants, a sweets shop and office buildings with the products those of Government instead of ordinary business.
And that’s the lure of Washington. Money’s here, but mostly it’s pure power.
Bruce caressed the head of his cane with his gloved thumb. He could feel the power of this city in the spring air. Spring was a fine season in Washington. It was summer that dragged down the soul, with a miasma hanging over the city from the swamps.
With any luck, we’ll leave the city before the heat sets in.
For now, spring would give them energy.
The carriages drove up to the entrance of the Willard Hotel. Bellhops were summoned by the doorman, and Bruce and Dick swept into the lobby. The desk clerk immediately perked up.
The lobby of the Willard Hotel was elegant with marble pillars, rich, red carpets, potted ferns and leather furniture. An adjoining room was the equally-elegant dining room.
The young clerk was eager to help. His large gray eyes flicked over to the raft of luggage behind his prospective guests. “Yes, sir, how may I help you?”
“I need a room,” Bruce said. “I wired for accommodations.”
“Let me check, sir.” The clerk took out a ledger. “Your name?”
“Bruce Wayne of Gotham City.”
“Ah, yes, Mr. Wayne!” The clerk located the reservation. “Our finest, the Presidential Suite. Presidents since Franklin Pierce have stayed here in that suite.”
“I presume that President Roosevelt won’t have need of it,” Bruce said dryly.
“What…? Oh, no, sir!” The clerk chuckled, albeit a trifle nervously.
Dick took pity on him. “Do you have my reservation? It’s under Richard Grayson.”
“Oh, certainly.” The clerk said triumphantly after a few seconds, “There it is! Right next door in the Senatorial Suite, sir.”
“Good.”
The clerk ordered the bellhops to bring the luggage to the top floor. Fortunately for them, there was an elevator specifically set aside for staff use while Bruce and Dick took the passenger elevator.
The Presidential Suite was suitably elegant. Most of the décor was Victorian in style with dark furniture in the sitting room and bedroom. Wine-red drapes of heavy material framed the windows. Edwardian style was very similar to Victorian, though Edwardians tended to eschew curio cabinets crammed with bric-a-brac and employed liberal use of potted ferns of every size, though they were especially fond of the large varieties. Several ferns were placed around the rooms.
Bruce tipped the bellhops generously. They unloaded the luggage and went to Dick’s room next. Dick followed, and Bruce began unpacking.
Forty-five minutes later he was still unpacking as Dick re-entered the suite.
“Whoa, looks like somebody misses Alfred.”
“I’m re-considering asking him to stay and look after things at the Manor,” Bruce replied wryly as he opened another trunk.
“Either you have too many clothes or you’re a slow unpacker.”
“Yes to both.”
“Let me help.”
Dick efficiently found space for Bruce’s clothes and snapped the trunk closed. “Did you leave any of your wardrobe back home?”
Pleased at Dick’s use of the word ‘home’, Bruce replied, “This is Washington City, my dear. Clothes are almost more important here than in New York or Metropolis. Power is the drug here, closely followed by money. If given a choice, a Senator will choose power over money in this town.”
“And the clothes?”
“While expensive clothes do indicate money, in this town power brokers dress the part.”
“And you’re a power broker?” Dick asked amusedly.
“One of them.” Bruce’s eyes gleamed. “I was raised to know how to play the game.”
“Mmm.” Dick entered the water closet. “All the modern conveniences.”
“A difference between Victorian and Edwardian,” Bruce murmured.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Bruce joined Dick in the water closet. “Chrome, marble, and porcelain. Quite a step up from when the place opened in 1850, I’d say.”
“Did Gray Eyes tell you that?”
“Gray Eyes?”
“Yes, the handsome clerk at the desk downstairs.”
“Jealous?” Bruce nuzzled Dick’s neck, his arm draped around Dick’s shoulders.
“Should I be?”
“Of a little hotel clerk? Hardly, my graceful Nightingale.”
Dick huffed. “See that it remains so.”
Bruce squeezed his companion’s shoulder. “Always.”
& & & & & &
They had eaten on the train so were ready to start their sightseeing right away.
“Let’s start out walking,” Bruce suggested. “We can always engage a hansom, for sites that are too far on foot.”
“Sounds good. I’m always looking for exercise.” Dick bounced on the balls of his feet.
Bruce smiled affectionately. He put on his gloves and hat and picked up his walking stick. Dick put on gloves and a hat but chose not to take a stick.
The weather was perfect: warm but pleasant, and buds showed on the trees. Spring was the season of Nature’s rebirth, and Bruce liked to plan out the series of new plantings on his estate every year.
Bruce and Dick walked at a brisk pace, tipping their hats to ladies and nodding to gentlemen. Unlike Gotham and other great metropolises, the people here walked at a more leisurely pace. Many were tourists or here on business like Bruce and Dick.
Bruce led the way, assuring Dick that he was knowledgeable about the nation’s capital. He was eager to play guide.
“We have a whole afternoon ahead of us.”
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