![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Happy Winterval,
roh_wyn! I wish I knew more about the Robin Hood and Merlin fandoms, but at least here's a little Downton Abbey and some Rufus-Wainwright-like music for you.
Downton Abbey quote icons
(Since these are for
roh_wyn, please don't snag any without permission from her! :) )
Wainwright-inspired music mix
Here's a music mix of tracks that (I think are) somehow reminiscent of Rufus Wainwright (although I don't pretend to really know what I'm talking about, music-wise). Plus one peppy track for fun.
Cooking Lessons
(300 words | G | Sybil, Mrs. Patmore, Daisy)
Sybil knocked politely on the doorjamb before poking her head in. “Hello, Mrs. Patmore.”
The riotous bustle of Downton Abbey’s kitchen, which looked like complete chaos but was really its own kind of clockwork, had fascinated Sybil since she was a very small child. But it had been made very, very clear to all three girls that, no matter how interesting it might look, or how wonderful it might smell, the kitchen was forbidden territory to the ladies of the house.
Which was why she had spoken to Carson first about her plan.
Now, at the sound of her voice, everything froze. For a long five seconds no one spoke or moved, until the spell was broken by O’Brien, passing through and muttering something under her breath that Sybil couldn’t quite make out.
Carson or no Carson, it seemed, things at Downton were not going to be so easy to change.
“Good afternoon, milady,” said Mrs. Patmore. She was holding a towel, and she twisted it between her hands. “Erm—won’t you put this apron on?” She nudged Daisy sharply, and the kitchen maid jumped, holding out an immaculate apron, stiffly starched.
“Thank you.” Sybil tied the apron around her waist and gave Mrs. Patmore a bright smile. “Thank you so much for helping me. I know you must be very busy.”
“Ah,” said Mrs. Patmore. “I’m glad to help.” But she looked at Sybil warily.
Sybil smiled back.
Daisy sent little darting glances from one to the other.
“I thought,” said Sybil, soldiering on, “that I would like to learn to make a cake.”
“A cake?” Daisy squeaked.
“That’s not the easiest to start with,” said Mrs. Patmore carefully.
Perhaps it wasn’t.
But Sybil was going to start somewhere.
~ fin ~
.
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Downton Abbey quote icons
(Since these are for
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)





Wainwright-inspired music mix
Here's a music mix of tracks that (I think are) somehow reminiscent of Rufus Wainwright (although I don't pretend to really know what I'm talking about, music-wise). Plus one peppy track for fun.
- Nagabuchi Tsuyoshi -- Kosaten (Intersection)
- Jennifer Warnes -- Famous Blue Raincoat
- Capercaillie -- Skye Waulking Song
- Nick Drake -- Way to Blue
[credit togilpin25 for introducing me to this one!]
- October Project -- Ariel
- Simon and Garfunkel -- April, Come She Will
- KT Tunstall -- White Bird
- Something a little more upbeat:
The Hi-Lows -- Nichiyobi yori no shisha (Messenger from Sunday) - And, for a finale:
Dire Straits -- Brothers in Arms
Cooking Lessons
(300 words | G | Sybil, Mrs. Patmore, Daisy)
Sybil knocked politely on the doorjamb before poking her head in. “Hello, Mrs. Patmore.”
The riotous bustle of Downton Abbey’s kitchen, which looked like complete chaos but was really its own kind of clockwork, had fascinated Sybil since she was a very small child. But it had been made very, very clear to all three girls that, no matter how interesting it might look, or how wonderful it might smell, the kitchen was forbidden territory to the ladies of the house.
Which was why she had spoken to Carson first about her plan.
Now, at the sound of her voice, everything froze. For a long five seconds no one spoke or moved, until the spell was broken by O’Brien, passing through and muttering something under her breath that Sybil couldn’t quite make out.
Carson or no Carson, it seemed, things at Downton were not going to be so easy to change.
“Good afternoon, milady,” said Mrs. Patmore. She was holding a towel, and she twisted it between her hands. “Erm—won’t you put this apron on?” She nudged Daisy sharply, and the kitchen maid jumped, holding out an immaculate apron, stiffly starched.
“Thank you.” Sybil tied the apron around her waist and gave Mrs. Patmore a bright smile. “Thank you so much for helping me. I know you must be very busy.”
“Ah,” said Mrs. Patmore. “I’m glad to help.” But she looked at Sybil warily.
Sybil smiled back.
Daisy sent little darting glances from one to the other.
“I thought,” said Sybil, soldiering on, “that I would like to learn to make a cake.”
“A cake?” Daisy squeaked.
“That’s not the easiest to start with,” said Mrs. Patmore carefully.
Perhaps it wasn’t.
But Sybil was going to start somewhere.
.