Jul. 12th, 2012

osprey_archer: (downton abbey)
Also, the fruits of my labors in the AO3 trenches: some Downton Abbey fic recs!

First, Counterparts, wherein Matthew tells Branson that he hasn't been fired for taking Sybil to the vote count, and they both muse on what it means to be in love with Crawley women. A sharp, funny gen story; it's interesting to see Matthew interact with someone who isn't Mary, for once, and to see the rough edges that the class barrier makes in his conversation with Branson. (As Branson comments, with wry humor and not a bit of sharpness: “I suppose as far as national generalizations go, I'll take, 'Fond of Yeats' over 'Drunk, thieving, potato-eating pig-ignorant scum of the Earth." Matthew is suitably taken aback.)

One thing I love about Downton Abbey fic is that it so often takes on these class issues head-on - often even moreso than the show itself. That's a palpable force in this sweet Sybil/Gwen story, Five Times Sybil and Gwen Were Alone, wherein Sybil and Gwen's slow bridging of the gap - the chasm, sometimes - that separates them is beautifully portrayed. I particularly like Sybil's subtle growth from impetuous, sweetly spoiled girl to determined (but still sweet) young woman.

And finally, from the WTF-fandom-I-love-you-so, there is thunder in our hearts, which is a...Mary/Lavinia story. Wait, what? Mary and who?

But this story sold me on the pairing, and more important, it sold me on Lavinia. She seemed so anodyne on the show, a pleasant non-entity - which is better, I suppose, than having Matthew affiance himself to a raging virago we were meant to enjoy hating, but rather boring. But this fic convinces me that there's something more to her than pure clinging love of Matthew.

"Please," she says one afternoon, putting a blanket over his lap, letting her fingers rest on one knee for a few thoughtless seconds before she moves them up to his forearm, "don't treat me as some kind of saint. I love you, that's all. For better or for worse."



"Oh, my dear," he says, a testament to her sainthood in the syllables.



Her fingers curl in frustration. He starts, slightly.



"Oh, I'm sorry," she says, shame flooding her. "Did I hurt you?"


There's love there, but also passion and frustration (with their situation; with the way he treats her), tightly reined in. The anodyne Lavinia of the show is someone she's taught herself to be, and works hard at being - because she's ashamed of having negative emotions (or even just emotions that are too strong).

Of course Lady Mary is a one-woman parade of strong negative emotions, and that helps Lavinia admit she has feelings which are not all sweetness and light. I like the sharp edges on this fic - it's not neat, or sweet, and that's just what Lavinia needs: a little chiaroscuro, to give her some depth.

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