Year of the Fatal Wedding
Title: Year of the Fatal Wedding
Fandom: Jekyll & Hyde
Characters: Miss Carew, Mister Utterson, Doctor Jekyll, Mister Stride
Rating: G/PG?
Other: Written for the August 9th contest (Anno mirabilis // Year of wonders) in 31_days.
Year of the Fatal Wedding
The summer of 1888. The year itself seemed ruled by the events of one day. would stand forever in the hearts of those who had attended the fatal wedding, would lurk even in the thoughts of those who had not attended. Stories had spread quickly and hit hard. It had been a tragedy, people said. A wedding gone wrong, a celebration stained with death.
The bride long remained inconsolable, though she had visitors enough who would attempt to ease her mind. She was stuck, they would say, on the man who had died. She would not argue. For a good part of her life she was a tragedy herself; it would be many long years later, after her father had passed, that she could find another man to live peacefully with.
Nobody blamed Mister Utterson. Leastwise, nobody laid blame to his face. Possibilities ran through crowds of whispering folk who had been nowhere near the scene, folk who had been left to sift through differing takes on the story. They only knew that someone must fall under the blame and that all stories landed the gun in Utterson’s hand. Those who knew more could tell of the way that Utterson had protested, the way that the Doctor had begged to be shot, had even provoked the attack.
It was the story of the Doctor himself that remained the most confusing. Many never heard a tale that came close to the truth, and masses were left simply to wonder. Was there truth to a single one of the rumors? Had this been madness, no doubt inherited from his father? Exhausted that had led to delirium? Jealousy of some sort? Or were those tales of some strange duality, so very disturbing and yet so very enticing, true? Could they possibly be true? Those who knew or even guessed correctly refused to say. Those who did not know spoke as they desired, and so the story spread, capturing minds and imaginations, drawing all back to that fateful summer of that fatal year.
Simon Stride had also been murdered at the wedding. His happened to a story of little consequence, however, and was discarded readily.
Fandom: Jekyll & Hyde
Characters: Miss Carew, Mister Utterson, Doctor Jekyll, Mister Stride
Rating: G/PG?
Other: Written for the August 9th contest (Anno mirabilis // Year of wonders) in 31_days.
Year of the Fatal Wedding
The summer of 1888. The year itself seemed ruled by the events of one day. would stand forever in the hearts of those who had attended the fatal wedding, would lurk even in the thoughts of those who had not attended. Stories had spread quickly and hit hard. It had been a tragedy, people said. A wedding gone wrong, a celebration stained with death.
The bride long remained inconsolable, though she had visitors enough who would attempt to ease her mind. She was stuck, they would say, on the man who had died. She would not argue. For a good part of her life she was a tragedy herself; it would be many long years later, after her father had passed, that she could find another man to live peacefully with.
Nobody blamed Mister Utterson. Leastwise, nobody laid blame to his face. Possibilities ran through crowds of whispering folk who had been nowhere near the scene, folk who had been left to sift through differing takes on the story. They only knew that someone must fall under the blame and that all stories landed the gun in Utterson’s hand. Those who knew more could tell of the way that Utterson had protested, the way that the Doctor had begged to be shot, had even provoked the attack.
It was the story of the Doctor himself that remained the most confusing. Many never heard a tale that came close to the truth, and masses were left simply to wonder. Was there truth to a single one of the rumors? Had this been madness, no doubt inherited from his father? Exhausted that had led to delirium? Jealousy of some sort? Or were those tales of some strange duality, so very disturbing and yet so very enticing, true? Could they possibly be true? Those who knew or even guessed correctly refused to say. Those who did not know spoke as they desired, and so the story spread, capturing minds and imaginations, drawing all back to that fateful summer of that fatal year.
Simon Stride had also been murdered at the wedding. His happened to a story of little consequence, however, and was discarded readily.