nineveh_uk (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
nineveh_uk) wrote2011-06-07 07:58 am
nineveh_uk) wrote2011-06-07 07:58 am
Wimseficlet: Dog collar
‘I’ll do anything you like if you’ll take it off now.’
‘That’s a promise.’
Really, with that as canon (Gaudy Night, chp. 19), how can the universe continue on its course and yet contain no Peter/Harriet dog-collar fics?
Anyway, I see from![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
metafandom that it’s kink_bingo time, and so I went and looked at a card and was scarred for life one of the prompts was “collar”, and while I never, ever intend to do kink_bingo, I am afraid I did have a little idea... PG-ish.
The dark quiet of Lady Peter Wimsey’s bedroom in Audley Square was broken by the light of late night taxis and appreciative voices, occasionally in French. Her ladyship, whose education had been less cosmopolitan than that of her husband, encouraged the use of his native tongue, but lapses were understandable.
‘Peter,’ said Harriet, ‘do you still have that dog collar?’
‘Yes,’ said he, a little startled by this apparent non sequitur, but willing to listen courteously enough. ‘I owe your life to it, after all, though I never did have my name put on it.’
‘We can remedy that another time. Would you fetch it?’
‘Now?’
‘Hmm.’
‘As my lady commands,’ flinging back the bedclothes and shivering ostentatiously, and then suddenly serious, ‘but, look here Harriet. I never meant - God knows what it looks like, the sort of thing I would think of and not care what it – what I mean to say is, are you sure this is a good idea?’
‘I think so.’
Six centuries of possessiveness... Not to be nullified by a word of renunciation. Not in this house with the Wimsey mice running over the chairs in the hall. I meant it, he had once said, I have said it, and meaning did not bow to intent alone.
‘Your lady commands. Now go and put it on – I’ve had my hands around your neck often enough to know the size.’
ETA: And, inspired, if that's the right word,
A glint of shining brass in the dressing-table mirror: Peter, at her door with the dog collar dangling from his hand and a speculative look in his eyes.
I’ll do anything you like if you’ll only take it off now.
‘No, not that.’ Two presents: her life, and her self-respect.
*Is it really necessary to say that I don't give a damn what people do in real life, this is about the reactions of a fictional character?
‘That’s a promise.’
Really, with that as canon (Gaudy Night, chp. 19), how can the universe continue on its course and yet contain no Peter/Harriet dog-collar fics?
Anyway, I see from
metafandom that it’s kink_bingo time, and so I went and looked at a card and kink_bingo, I am afraid I did have a little idea... PG-ish.The dark quiet of Lady Peter Wimsey’s bedroom in Audley Square was broken by the light of late night taxis and appreciative voices, occasionally in French. Her ladyship, whose education had been less cosmopolitan than that of her husband, encouraged the use of his native tongue, but lapses were understandable.
‘Peter,’ said Harriet, ‘do you still have that dog collar?’
‘Yes,’ said he, a little startled by this apparent non sequitur, but willing to listen courteously enough. ‘I owe your life to it, after all, though I never did have my name put on it.’
‘We can remedy that another time. Would you fetch it?’
‘Now?’
‘Hmm.’
‘As my lady commands,’ flinging back the bedclothes and shivering ostentatiously, and then suddenly serious, ‘but, look here Harriet. I never meant - God knows what it looks like, the sort of thing I would think of and not care what it – what I mean to say is, are you sure this is a good idea?’
‘I think so.’
Six centuries of possessiveness... Not to be nullified by a word of renunciation. Not in this house with the Wimsey mice running over the chairs in the hall. I meant it, he had once said, I have said it, and meaning did not bow to intent alone.
‘Your lady commands. Now go and put it on – I’ve had my hands around your neck often enough to know the size.’
ETA: And, inspired, if that's the right word,
A glint of shining brass in the dressing-table mirror: Peter, at her door with the dog collar dangling from his hand and a speculative look in his eyes.
I’ll do anything you like if you’ll only take it off now.
‘No, not that.’ Two presents: her life, and her self-respect.
*Is it really necessary to say that I don't give a damn what people do in real life, this is about the reactions of a fictional character?
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Peter is definitely begging for kink bingo. On his knees to Harriet, who says maybe in five years if he is very good in the meantime.
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You'd think The Nine Tailors would put him off.
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I don't think he need worry about being left to starve/dehydrate should Bunter have a heart attack with all the excitement as the cleaning staff belonging to the service flats would fine him, although muzzling the gossip might be an issue.
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The rope was being used to tie up a baddie. Peter is, um, very practical.
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I'm sorry that no-one has made anything of the lavendar-scented sheets in the bedroom with Parker in Unnatural Death.
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Um... yes... er... Good thing Peter knew where he was keeping the dog collar and didn't have to ring for Bunter to fetch it.
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Now that you mention it there is that WIP Bunter/St George, and "hierarchy" is (I think) one of the squares.
Peter, who is a pure-souled, high-minded sort of man, keeps the dog collar in his sock drawer and regards it in a sentimental fashion. Nothing else has previously crossed his mind. Ever. Honest. Except note edited post.
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I am inclined to agree with this - even the suggestion comes close to being OOC. Not that Peter doesn't often cast himself in a dominant role, but his mental image doesn't include thinking of himself in that way, so I don't really see him being comfortable requesting or performing this. If I were having to write this as a longer fic (and happily I am not!) I'd see the likelier scenario as Harriet, who does acknowledge a submissive side of her character on occasion (except when she is vehemently denying it) wanting to explore it in very strictly delineated circumstances, and the two of them feeling their way through their extensive reservations on both sides. Or there's PWP.
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From a man who means to be King and Emperor? But no, to be fair to Peter, that's more about expertise than it is about roles and we do know he doesn't want Harriet as a (paid) subordinate.
Boyes, on the other hand...
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The K&E line, of course, ties into the metaphysical poets and their geography metaphors, but I am afraid it makes me think of Prince Charles and the "royal orbs and sceptre" stuff in The Sun.
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It's surprising the Wimsey fandom is the way it is, really.
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Nice!
(Anonymous) 2011-06-07 06:32 pm (UTC)(link)M
Re: Nice!
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It strikes me, though, that given DLS's fascination with the process whereby the relationship is negotiated - which continues, at least to this reader's mind, well past the point when you'd think the two of them could stop dancing around each other and just get on with being married - that the bedroom would be the ideal way of extending that sense of uncertainty and caution and trying to second guess the other person's feelings. Perhaps the only way DLS could actually have finished Thrones, Dominations would have been to alternate the mystery with pages and pages of porn.
I very much like the quiet being broken by "late night taxis and appreciative voices", by the way. It's both vivid and economical. And you get the French in! Intertextuality, yay!
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As they spend those five years not negotiating anything about the relationship at all, apart from whether there is a relationship in the first place, and it's all bound (um) up with power and pride and perceived inferiority/superiority and Harriet's ultimate response is to fall down a well, splat, there's rather a lot of endlessly fascinating stuff still to be worked out.
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Perhaps she got so wrapped up in the porn that by the time she realised she'd written a PWP it was too late to meet the publisher's deadline. And of course once the estate got hold of it they ripped out all the porn and brought in JPW to bridge the gaps.
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I always thought your DLS voice was suspiciously accurate.
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Go to bed and work it out
Camera, strategically pixillated: Zooms in on tangle of limbs and bedclothes revealed to be Peter and Harriet. At least one of them is upside down and appears to in a position usually associated only with yoga masters.
Peter: What about [this].
Camera: Suddenly heavily censored.
Harriet (voiceover): Sorry, I still feel the opression inherent in the system.
*
I can't help feeling that spending more than three weeks of their engagement in the same country might have been a good idea in terms of negotiating things about the relationship. Or spending any of those three weeks on it - as far as I can see, it appears to be wedding planning, evenings out, and getting stressed about Helen. Also I am now imagining the Botanical Gardens fic that I cannot write being greatly improved by including Harriet's falling down a well.
Re: Go to bed and work it out
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that the bedroom would be the ideal way of extending that sense of uncertainty and caution and trying to second guess the other person's feelings
I swear that this summer I am going to scan my MS notes and definitely not share them with anybody.
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I can't see literal-minded, deliberate and honest Harriet being very keen on, or any good at any kind of role play really.
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