My First Fanfiction Attempt
Here goes. It is Molly’s side of the story. AU Sherlock tv series. Not sure of the rating - probably teen up. Definitely Mycroft-centric. Definitely happy ending. Early 18th or 19th century. mix of Pride and Prejudice - not at all (only the misunderstandings), Robin Hood [ :) well sort of] . Inspired by many of AO3 authors, mostly ylc, starrysummernights, ... will add more later. [there was a fairy tale AU where john and sherlock rescue princess molly from a tower. i never pay attention to names!! will search and add - GOT IT!! - The White Tower and the Winding Stair by CherryBlossomTide for what_alchemy] AND . MANY MORE.
It is more of a ... prologue (?). Posting before I chicken out. Also hope to continue and not abandon since I have already posted the beginning.
Had a tough time bringing out the thoughts to words.
I literally practised this - of course mentally! To clear my head. Hope it is worth reading.
Do comment - however discouraging it may seem. Especially since I have never been outside my hometown, and, all my ideas come from movies and my high school history knowledge. {For eg. ‘hackney’ - not sure if it is the right word for my idea of the vehicle in my story - a horse drawn, canvas roofed cart,I’d say. Apologies for all the loop-holes.}
keep reading if you want to. if you don’t, still keep reading ;)
[just the beginning of a long story]
{maybe not that long}
so sorry. i don’t know how to edit without re-blogging. and i don’t want to reblog. so adding the whole thing again!
Princess Molly and The Banker
Chapter 1 - The Beginning of a Journey
Molly woke up to the nudge on her shoulder and the whisper in her ear - recognising the voice - “My Lady! Wake up. Wakeup! We’ve to leave!”
It was Mary, her maid , her guard, her childhood companion. Someone she, and her father trusted with their life.
Something was definitely wrong.
Silently Molly allowed Mary to bundle her into clothes of a man - shirt, trousers, boots, cloak. They took the secret stairs behind her wardrobe. It led to an underground passage and into the woods behind the castle.
A hackney was waiting for them. As Molly climbed into the back she heard Mary whispering to the man beside the horse. Slowly she recognised the silhouette - it was Sir John, second in command to Captain Lestrade, the King’s commanding officer.
She desperately wanted to ask them why he was not with her father, the King, protecting him! But knew she was expected to follow, not ask questions and cause a delay.
Although only 14 yrs old, Lady Molly Hooper was far more intelligent and capable than any of her friends. Not that she had any - friends! They treated her with respect for after all she is the Princess of Astoria, only daughter of King Edward Hooper. Even if most of them felt that she was not normal, with her obsession with taking care of injured animals, reading books on medicine and death! Death! She seemed fascinated by poisons and decomposition of the body. That was definitely not normal!
Molly’s thoughts of her life in the castle were turned to the movement of the hackney. Mary had joined her at the back, and they were off in a hurry. She was jolted from side to side but held on to the beam passing along the canvas roof. Her thoughts strayed to the castle, her father. She shut them down. Concentrated on the twists and turns of the path ahead.
The forest was her only friend, with Mary as her companion, while she explored - memorising plants from the hefty books that Mary carried in a small cart, as Molly searched for specimens to use in the small room her father had ordered set up for her. He loved his daughter, more when her mother passed away from a fever that had taken more lives in his kingdom than any battle. His loss though hidden was obvious to his quiet daughter. Molly was determined to find the cause for this ‘plague’ that had taken so many precious lives. And her father indulged her, much to the discomfort of his councillors - who thought that a Princess’ role was to be presentable in court, and make a good Queen when the time came.
Half-way through the journey Molly started losing the orientation of the path. They were heading deeper into the woods - farther than she had ever been. Slowly the rocking of their vehicle lulled her into a doze that she found hard to resist. She needed to remain alert, study the path, note the relevant pieces that would help her re-trace the way back to the castle. Not that she did not trust John or Mary. It had become a force of habit - memorising everything that fell in her field - of vision.
Not sure for how long she had slept, Molly heard the whispered arguments of her companions and decided to get out and see where they were. It was still dark, they were at the border of the woods, and all she could see ahead was fog. Her movement had alerted her guards and Mary came running to her “My Lady. Please remain inside. It is not yet safe for you to come into the open.”
Frustrated but practical, Molly nodded and sat inside, waiting for John and Mary to finish their discusion and continue with their journey. As she cuddled into the fur blanket that was spread out on the make-shift bed at the floor of the hackney, something hard touched her head. She leapt up, silently, and focussed her gaze on the object hidden under the fur. The outline was definitely familiar. It was her log-book : the one she carried with her wherever she went. All her work was detailed in it. As she slowly placed the bookon her lap the hackney shifted under the weight of Mary who climbed in to join her. They started moving again.
Mary watched her caress the book and smiled. It was the only personal item that she could collect given the circumstances. Yet, she knew Molly would prefer this to all the treasures her father had bestowed upon her over the years.
———~———
The slowing of the hackney woke her up. Molly watched Mary jump out and run ahead. She held the book close to her chest, seeking comfort for her racing heart.
John slowed the horse and got down, leading them closer to what looked like a barn.
He tied the horse to a pole and came to the back to help Molly get down. Seeing her questioning look John held a ffinger to his lips, watching Molly nod in understanding, and led her into the barn. Settling her in a corner with the blankets around, he signaled her to wait while he went out.
She was too tired to even think of the reasons for all this secretiveness. And too anxious to sleep. So all she could do was wait even if not patiently.
The sound of more than a pair of boots on the gravel outside made her crouch into the hay.
“Where is she? AAh. My lady, please allow me to escort you inside,” the voice was deep, touching her heart like a well sung sonata. Yet she did not dare peek at her interlocutor.
A strong hand with thin long fingers grasped her elbow firmly and fluidly pulled her up. As Molly rose up from between the hay she looked up to see a tall man with curly hair, strong chin, high cheek-bones, long neck, dressed in a tight shirt and breeches and boots. Her head reached only his chest. In the dark she couldn’t see his eyes. His breath was steady and he was watching her intently.
Trying to gather all information about the stranger, she did not register the other voices behind the man. Like a fog being displaced my the sun, her clouded mind cleared on hearing the slightly admonishing tone of Mary. She tried to look over the stranger’s shoulder but couldn’t budge.
“Well, you do want me to keep her safe, don’t you John?” he asked.
“Of course we bloody do, Sherlock! But, don’t frighten her into running away! That’s not very good now, is it?” John replied.
“Hmph. She doesn’t look like the running type.” “ Shall we, Princess?” saying so, the stranger Sherlock walked past them out of the barn.
“Don’t worry. He is a Good Man. You’ll be safe here, till John can bring more news from the castle” Mary assured her Lady.
“What happened? Is Father alright? When will I see him again?” Molly started babbling as she was led into a small single storied house by Mary, John following them. Sherlock was nowhere to be seen.
———~———
The front door was open. As they stepped in Molly could hear the faint sound of music- violin, behind the closed door to the left of what looked like the only room in the house - there was a fire-place, next to which stood what looked like a shelf that held kitchen utensils. This was at the far right of the rectangular room, where there was a window with a ledge that had books, writng paper, and some cushions. Right in front of the fire-place was large chair looking cozy with a rug and more books on the floor beside it. There was a large table in the middle of the room that was covered with pans and jars and more books.
Next to the door in the left corner of the room was a make-shify bed that looke more like a wooden board covered with a rug and a few blankets. There was a stand covered with books next to it. A candle was burning on the stand and there was a quill that was resting on a parchment paper.
Molly slowly realised that what was resting on top of the books was actually a skull, and, looked human! She had seen the remains of a baby in the forest, and Mary had mentioned that sometimes when a woman gave birth to a still-born, the father would bury the child in the forest, and not in the graveyard of the church. This was to let the spirit of the child be free to wander in the woods and not be bullied by the other ghosts.
Though Molly never belived her and knew that Mary was hiding something, the fact was she loved fantasies and this only fueled her imaginations.
As she slowly approached the skull the door opened with a bang and Sherlock moved in a flash to the pots and pans on the shelves.
“What would you like to have?Soup?”
John exchanged a glance with Mary. “I’ll worry about the food.”
Sherlock merely looked at him as if he was a disturbance and fell into the chair by the fire.
“Why don’t we get you settled, my Lady?” Mary asked Molly.
Molly looked at her not sure what she meant. She was led by Mary through the door to the stable right behind the house where on the floor was a trap door that she lifted to reveal stairs. A faint glow lit the stairs. Molly followed her companion down the stairs to a small room that had a bed, a shelf for clothes, a basin and a jug full of water, also a table with books and writing equipment.
The room had walls and floor that were covered in wooden beams - probably to keep the chill out. There were pipes running along the ceiling. Molly wondered what they were for.
“You’d best change into something more comfortable, my Lady.” Mary was already taking out a few clothes from a bag that sat on one of the shelves.
Molly walked over to her, held her trembling hand and slowly turned her to look directly into her eyes “Tell me. You know I would rather know the truth than avoid it. Please. In the name of our friendship, if you truly are devoted to the King, please!”
There was unshed tears in her eyes.
Molly was never one to interefere when she knew she was expected to remain silent. But this was about her father! Her Kingdom! She held on to Mary’s hand steadily.
Mary nodded and led her to the bed. She still carried the bag of clothes. “These are John’s. Will fit you, even if a little loose. Why don’t you change first. After I promise to tell you everything.”
Sighing, Molly rose to her feet and started shedding the clothes she had hastily worn earlier in the night. “What time do you think it is?” she asked in a whisper.
“Almost daylight” Mary answered as she helped her remove her petticoat.
Mary moved to a corner where a wooden board was covering what looked like the beginning of the pipe that ran along the roof. Removing the lid she placed the jug of water on the iron plate that was revealed. The water slowly started heating. Mary dipped a piece of cloth in the water and gave it to Molly who wiped herself. After ensuring that she was clean Mary took the jug, closed the iron plate with the wooden lid and washed the rag in the basin. After wiping Molly’s hair with the damp cloth, Mary helped her into the clean clothes.
“I’ll wash your petticoat and dry it. We’ll have to improvise since there is no spare.” Mary refused to maitain eye-contact. That was not a good sign.
Molly sat on the bed waiting for Mary to finally run out of excuses.
“Lord Magnussen was heard threatening the King by John. Not sure about the details. John approached Captain Gregory, who’d said that the King is in his debt and owes the Lord quite a large sum. Since he’s in good terms with King Moriarty, of Snowdonia, John feels …” Mary paused, not sure if she should complete the thought.
“That Moriarty might attack? Like he captured Snowdonia?” Molly completed the sentence in her head, not realising that she had whispered it aloud. “But, Pembrokeshire is so far away! Unless he has the help of the neighbouring kingdoms …”
“Lord Magnussen has too many nobles in his debt. It’s not safe for you in the castle ‘till we are sure of his motives. Trust John. He’ll be off to the castle by now. W’may have to wait for a day or two. He’s promised to get back to us by then with any new developments. If it’s safe, we can return immediately.” Mary tried, her voice not convincing enough.
But Molly was a practical girl. She never was carried away by fanciful thoughts. “Let us go eat” saying so, she rose from the bed, determined not to give more trouble than she already had - which was inevitable, considering the fact that the fate of her Kingdom rested on her head. Mary may be doing her duty, but she knew that Mary was more like an elder sister to her. She was cared for deeply, and knew that Mary would give her life to protect her Lady.
———~———
definitely mollcroft. for a moment thought sherlolly/mollock. but, mycroft is always my favourite, so....
hope it is worth the effort to continue!
A Map of Wales