Chartruesian pointed out that I had not done a Helen/Nikola meeting fic as yet and in her ever so polite way suggested I might like to do one. Well my sweet here is the start of it for you. I would love to hear if you enjoyed - it never fails to make me smile.
Helen opened her wardrobe and surveyed the dresses within its confines. All perfectly lovely, sensible dresses in demure, serviceable colours and then there was the crimson dress. It had remained on its hanger for nearly two years now, mocking her every time she opened the doors. To this day she did not know what had possessed her to commission such a frivolous gown, the colour, while lovely, was completely impractical. The cut was is no way revealing yet hugged her curves in a way that showed her true femininity. It had been a spontaneous decision she had regretted many times yet the gown remained hanging there just waiting for the right time to see the light of day.
Helen reached for her most demure black dress, it was the perfect choice for her first day at Oxford. She had longed to attend the institution of higher education for years and every year she applied she was sent a letter politely thanking her for her application but Oxford was an institution for young men serious about expanding their knowledge. And every year when she received the letter her blood boiled.
Until this year. This year the letter was slightly different. A friend of her fathers had taken over as the Dean of Students and had managed to convince the Dean on her behalf that she should be allowed to audit classes. She would never know of the markers her father had called in or the money he had paid to get his colleague to make the recommendation and she would never know of the conversation that has taken place between the Deans about the tenacity of Gregory Magnus and if his daughter was anything like her father she would keep applying until either the school gave in or she died. In the end the Deans had decided to make an example of her, because surely she would not last more than a semester. She would meet some young scholar and be married and having babies by the years end, just as she should be and then the next time some foolish woman decided to apply to the great institution they could use Miss Magnus as an example of why women in universities was a spectacularly bad idea.
Helen sat at her dressing table and began the tedious task of doing her hair. She wondered what the day would bring, she was not naive enough to believe that she would easily be accepted among the male scholars but she did hope that there may be a few men who would readily accept that a woman could use her brain in the same manner as a man. Uncertainty began to plague her, what if there were no such men there, and if there were, what if she could not identify them?
It was during the moment of uncertainty that her eye caught the black dress lying on the bed. The dress was practical and what the deans would expect her to wear. In the black dress she would blend in, her femininity would not be as obvious. But was that what she truly wanted? Was that who she truly was?
The answer came at her in a blinding flash of light. She was Helen Magnus and proud of it. Helen Magnus was not a shrinking violet who tried to blend in, what better way to discover who the more forward thinking scholars were than by standing out in the crowd and seeing who was brave enough to approach her.
She finished the intricate hairdo and added her mother's diamond earrings and walked over to the black dress on the bed and promptly placed it back in the wardrobe. Without a moment's hesitation or second thoughts she removed the crimson dress and finished the ensemble with her good walking out boots. She didn't dare glance at her appearance lest she change her mind before leaving the safety of her bedchamber.
A minute later she entered the morning room a plate of toast was just being placed in front of her when her father entered. Anyone who didn't know Gregory Magnus would not have even noticed the moment's hesitation he made entering the room or the slight arch to his eyebrow but Helen was finely tuned to her father's every nuance.
"Good morning father."
"Good morning my dear, you look particularly lovely this morning. Is there any particular reason you are dressed so…beautifully this morning?"
"Father you know as well as I do that I begin auditing classes at Oxford today." Helen said with a smile.
"Indeed. I thought that was today, yet you look dressed for high tea."
Helen sighed and began having second thoughts about her attire but before she could excuse herself to go and change her father interrupted her thoughts.
"If however, you have dressed in such a manner to make sure every scholar there realises you are the first woman to walk their hallowed halls and as such are planning to use you femininity to your advantage and weed out only those who are worthy of spending time with you – well then I applaud your strategy."
Helen smiled, her father always knew exactly the right thing to say.
"I shall let you know how my plan unfolds." Helen rose to leave the breakfast room and placed a kiss on her father's cheek.
"Oh I look forward to it." Gregory gently grasped his only child's hand. "Remember Helen, You are twice as smart as any man attending the institution, those that recognise and accept that fact unconditionally, they will be your true peers."
"Thank you father." Helen squeezed his hand and turned to begin her new life as an Oxford scholar.