Secret Garden fic
Sep. 5th, 2006 08:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rosa_cottonTitle: Understanding
Rating: G
Pairings: Dickon/Mary
Summary: While waiting out the rain, Mary comes to a better understanding of her and Dickon’s friendship. [Based on the 1987 Hallmark version.]
Dickon and Mary took refuge on the bench under the shelter of the large tree. Settling down comfortably on the bench, the two children watched the rain, welcomed by the thirsty earth.
The girl sighed silently to herself. She had not worn a coat because it had been originally sunny and quite warm today; she knew she would get a scolding from Mrs. Medlock for her dress getting wet and a little soiled if the housekeeper saw her. But Martha wouldn’t scold her; she would probably just smile broadly and shake her head while chuckling merrily.
Mary glanced up at the tall boy next to her. Hat in his hands, Dickon watched the falling rain with a pleasant expression on his face. The girl clasped her hands together tightly.
Ever since she had told him about her discovery of Colin and why none of her Ayahs in India had liked her, he seemed somewhat different. That familiar smile of his, small and soft, just brushing the corners of his mouth, that Mary had come to like very much, hardly appeared now. Not only had she noticed that, but her friend seemed more quiet than usual. And she was troubled by this.
She wondered if, maybe because of his now knowing how beastly she had been before, Dickon did not like her, or at least not as she did him. Perhaps he was sorry to be her friend, yet was too polite to shun her. Well, if it was so, she would not bother about it. Ben Weatherstaff, the robin, and Colin all liked her. It would not matter if she had three friends instead of four.
“What is the matter, Miss Mary?”
Not realizing her troubling thoughts had crept onto her face by way of a dark frown, the girl was startled when the boy spoke. She looked up, craning her neck back a little, to see Dickon watching her with a mixture of curiosity and concern. Mary flushed a little and repeatedly clasped and unclasped her hands, searching for an answer. Dickon waited patiently, looking at her quietly with his dark eyes. Unsettled by his gaze, she dropped her own down to her hands.
“Dickon,” she started uncertainly, “did you ever get so upset that you threw a tantrum?”
“Aye, once when I was real little,” the boy answered after some reflection, though puzzled by her question.
“Only once?” she gave him a wide-eyed look.
He nodded. “Aye. Ma sat me down on her knee and told me throwing a fit would not make me always get what I want. She taught me to be patient and to accept things even if they were not turning out the way I wanted.”
Mary listened carefully and nodded mutely. She had never been brought up like that while in India. How terrible she must have seemed to Dickon at first!
“Did, did you dislike me when I first came?” She wrapped her arms around herself as though to protect herself against Dickon’s words.
“No, Miss Mary, I did not dislike you.”
She blinked at him, surprised. “But I was not very courteous to you when I first met you, or the other few times you tried to speak to me, until you got my garden things for me,” she said, puzzled.
“We all are not always nice to each other,” Dickon said quietly.
“So despite how I first acted, you did not dislike me?” She felt better as Dickon’s lips turned up in that faint, comforting familiar smile. “No, I did not.”
“And…,” she lowered her eyes for an instant before looking at him almost shyly, “and you do not dislike me now because of how much like Colin I was in India.”
Gentle amusement shone in the boy’s eyes as he shook his dark head. “Nay. You are different since you first came.”
“Better?” the girl asked hopefully.
“Aye,” the boy’s smile widened.
“Do you think you like me, like Ben, the robin, and Colin do?”
Dickon studied her for a moment, his eyes twinkling. “I do believe I like you very much, Mary.”
A swell of delight filled the girl, and her face brightened. She clasped one of the boy’s large hands in hers and squeezed it gratefully. “Oh, I am glad, Dickon!” she breathed, smiling up at him.
The boy glanced down at their joined hands and returned her smile. The moment was broken a second later when Mary looked about and realized the rain was over. With excitement she jumped to her feet, letting go of Dickon’s hand. She took off over the grass at the spirited run.
“We can go to the garden now,” she called over her shoulder. “Hurry, Dickon!”
Dickon watched the girl for a moment more before he climbed to his feet. He chuckled, and there was a new indefinable light in his smile as he broke into a run after Mary.
THE END
Rating: G
Pairings: Dickon/Mary
Summary: While waiting out the rain, Mary comes to a better understanding of her and Dickon’s friendship. [Based on the 1987 Hallmark version.]
Dickon and Mary took refuge on the bench under the shelter of the large tree. Settling down comfortably on the bench, the two children watched the rain, welcomed by the thirsty earth.
The girl sighed silently to herself. She had not worn a coat because it had been originally sunny and quite warm today; she knew she would get a scolding from Mrs. Medlock for her dress getting wet and a little soiled if the housekeeper saw her. But Martha wouldn’t scold her; she would probably just smile broadly and shake her head while chuckling merrily.
Mary glanced up at the tall boy next to her. Hat in his hands, Dickon watched the falling rain with a pleasant expression on his face. The girl clasped her hands together tightly.
Ever since she had told him about her discovery of Colin and why none of her Ayahs in India had liked her, he seemed somewhat different. That familiar smile of his, small and soft, just brushing the corners of his mouth, that Mary had come to like very much, hardly appeared now. Not only had she noticed that, but her friend seemed more quiet than usual. And she was troubled by this.
She wondered if, maybe because of his now knowing how beastly she had been before, Dickon did not like her, or at least not as she did him. Perhaps he was sorry to be her friend, yet was too polite to shun her. Well, if it was so, she would not bother about it. Ben Weatherstaff, the robin, and Colin all liked her. It would not matter if she had three friends instead of four.
“What is the matter, Miss Mary?”
Not realizing her troubling thoughts had crept onto her face by way of a dark frown, the girl was startled when the boy spoke. She looked up, craning her neck back a little, to see Dickon watching her with a mixture of curiosity and concern. Mary flushed a little and repeatedly clasped and unclasped her hands, searching for an answer. Dickon waited patiently, looking at her quietly with his dark eyes. Unsettled by his gaze, she dropped her own down to her hands.
“Dickon,” she started uncertainly, “did you ever get so upset that you threw a tantrum?”
“Aye, once when I was real little,” the boy answered after some reflection, though puzzled by her question.
“Only once?” she gave him a wide-eyed look.
He nodded. “Aye. Ma sat me down on her knee and told me throwing a fit would not make me always get what I want. She taught me to be patient and to accept things even if they were not turning out the way I wanted.”
Mary listened carefully and nodded mutely. She had never been brought up like that while in India. How terrible she must have seemed to Dickon at first!
“Did, did you dislike me when I first came?” She wrapped her arms around herself as though to protect herself against Dickon’s words.
“No, Miss Mary, I did not dislike you.”
She blinked at him, surprised. “But I was not very courteous to you when I first met you, or the other few times you tried to speak to me, until you got my garden things for me,” she said, puzzled.
“We all are not always nice to each other,” Dickon said quietly.
“So despite how I first acted, you did not dislike me?” She felt better as Dickon’s lips turned up in that faint, comforting familiar smile. “No, I did not.”
“And…,” she lowered her eyes for an instant before looking at him almost shyly, “and you do not dislike me now because of how much like Colin I was in India.”
Gentle amusement shone in the boy’s eyes as he shook his dark head. “Nay. You are different since you first came.”
“Better?” the girl asked hopefully.
“Aye,” the boy’s smile widened.
“Do you think you like me, like Ben, the robin, and Colin do?”
Dickon studied her for a moment, his eyes twinkling. “I do believe I like you very much, Mary.”
A swell of delight filled the girl, and her face brightened. She clasped one of the boy’s large hands in hers and squeezed it gratefully. “Oh, I am glad, Dickon!” she breathed, smiling up at him.
The boy glanced down at their joined hands and returned her smile. The moment was broken a second later when Mary looked about and realized the rain was over. With excitement she jumped to her feet, letting go of Dickon’s hand. She took off over the grass at the spirited run.
“We can go to the garden now,” she called over her shoulder. “Hurry, Dickon!”
Dickon watched the girl for a moment more before he climbed to his feet. He chuckled, and there was a new indefinable light in his smile as he broke into a run after Mary.
THE END
