Ack, I feel so nerdy writing fanfic for A Tale of Two Cities. But I can't help it! I just finished last night and I absolutely loved it and I could not get rid of the urge to write something for it, so here I am. I decided on a scene with little Lucie and Sydney Carton, because 1) I had to write something about Sydney, seeing as how he's my favorite character, and 2) we never got to see any real interaction between these two despite the fact that they have an implied kinship, and after all, what could be cuter than him and little Lucie playing house? So I guess this takes place sometime after Lucie's marriage during one of Sydney's visits.
I'm no Dickens, but hopefully I stayed true to the characters. Please enjoy it, and if you read, please please review! :) Thanks.
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"Mr. Carton, will you play with me?"
Sydney Carton tore his eyes away from the window from which he'd been looking, contemplating the plane tree in the yard. It was rather quiet that day, without the usual echoing sounds of footsteps. Lucie Darnay was sitting in the den mending her husband's shirt, which had lost a button and acquired a tear, and Sydney had been sitting on the window seat in his typical silent, brooding posture, until little Lucie had asked her question.
"Oh, don't bother him, Lucie," her mother chided gently from across the room. She didn't pause in her work, but her forehead wrinkled in worry.
"On the contrary, I'd be happy to," Sydney said, shaking off his pensive daze and putting on a smile for the young girl.
Little Lucie beamed in reply, and then looked over her shoulder at her mother. "He says he'd be happy to, Mamma."
The golden-haired woman smiled a little and shook her head, the crease in brow melting away. "Then I suppose it's all right."
"What is that you'd like to play?" inquired Carton, lifting the girl onto the seat beside him when she held up her arms.
"I want to play house," she answered, clutching a worn-out doll to her chest and staring at the man expectantly.
"I'm afraid I don't know much about that," he admitted, scratching his head.
"I'll be the mamma and you'll be the papa, and this will be our baby," she explained, holding out her toy to show him. He examined it, seeming amused.
"Ah! I get the feeling that your father—nor your mother, for that matter—would regard me as a proper suitor for you."
Little Lucie looked at him quizzically, and then over to her mother who was still sewing. "Mamma, what's wrong with Mr. Carton? Can't he play the papa?"
When Mrs. Darnay answered her, her eyes were on Syndey and she was clearly trying to suppress a laugh. "There's nothing wrong with him, darling; don't listen to him. He's harmless, as I'm sure your father would agree."
Her daughter returned her gaze to Sydney with a look of relief. "She says you're harmless."
"I beg to differ," he replied, his eyes briefly meeting those of the Lucie that was holding the needle and thread. "However, I shall attempt to fulfill my role faithfully. Now, where should we begin?"
Little Lucie got quiet, deliberating. She picked at the fraying edges of her doll's dress. "First we need rings," she finally decided.
"Rings, hm? What for?"
"To show we're married, of course," she said, with an exasperated tone that seemed to question his intelligence. Once more she turned towards her mother. "Mamma, may I have your ring?"
Lucie looked up from her needlework upon her child's request. "Oh, I don't know about that…," she said, her face now clouded with reluctance. Seeing this, Carton quickly recaptured little Lucie's attention.
"How about we get our own rings?" he suggested, hoping to sway her. "The one your mother has is her own special ring."
Little Lucie frowned, appearing unconvinced. "But I don't have any other rings."
"Come over here, then," her mother put in, setting aside the shirt. "I'll make you one."
Her daughter shouted happily and hopped down from her perch on the window seat, running over to her mother's side.
"Give me your hand," Mrs. Darnay said, and then glanced over at Sydney with a kind smile. "You, too, Mr. Carton."
He rose, a little stiffly, and crossed the room to the table at which she was sitting. He watched as she wrapped a bit of thread around little Lucie's finger and tied it. She then looked to Sydney, gesturing for his hand. He held it out to her, but it was with restraint, as if he were afraid that getting too close might possibly cause her to break. Or, possibly, cause him to break. She paid no mind to his rigid air and tied the thread around his finger in the same manner. She rested her hand gently on his when she finished, just barely touching his skin. She was afraid too, perhaps.
"There," she said, raising her head to look him in the eye. She removed her hand. "Now you're married."
"Thank you," he responded, feeling nearly breathless. The feeling passed quickly, however, and he recovered himself. He looked down at little Lucie, who held out her hand to show him her matching ring.
Sydney brought his hand out to meet hers, staring at that piece of thread as he did so. Though Lucie had been careful to keep it loose when she'd tied it, at that instant it felt as tight as the golden thread bound around his heart.