The Thing About Kate Nickleby
Sep. 6th, 2006 02:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tamcranverA little something new: some Frank/Kate. For the "blue" prompt at fanfic100.
The thing about Kate Nickleby, Frank decided, is that you’d never know to look at her how demned strong the girl is. To look at her round, sweet face, with its kind smile and innocent blue eyes, you’d think she’d never had anything more serious to think about than whether or not lemon tea with lemon tarts was really too much lemon for one meal.
But that wasn’t so—no, not at all. Nickleby wasn’t terribly chatty about what ordeals his sister had undergone, but Frank could tell, by the way his mouth tightened and his veins stretched blue and pulsing over his clenched knuckles when he spoke about it, that it had been a bad business. Besides the death of Mr. Nickleby, Sr.—and it was clear by the sadness that hung about the Nicklebys just how harsh a blow that had been—the family had clearly fallen on rough times, financially speaking. The uncle was, by all accounts, a rotter of the worst kind, who’d taken an unreasonable dislike to Nickleby and had shoved Miss Kate amidst a gang of lunatics and scoundrels in exchange for some paltry financial assistance. It made Frank’s blood boil to think what kind of humiliations Kate had had to endure.
But the thing was—and this really was the thing about Kate Nickleby, the thing that made Frank think about her all the time—she never succumbed to the gloom, as far as Frank could tell. She was as patient with her mother as anyone could ask for, a good deal more patient than Frank would be in her place. Despite the paltry furnishings and small space the Nicklebys shared, Kate seemed to be doing a good job keeping the place clean and quite respectable-looking, even pretty. Frank didn’t quite understand where and why Nickleby had picked up the crippled invalid over whom there had been so much dispute with the uncle, but Kate was kindness personified in dealing with the fellow, and Smike clearly adored her.
And she had pride, in herself and her brother and her family. Whenever Frank saw her, and they exchanged a friendly greeting or two, she always held her head up high, looking Frank in the eye and speaking her mind clearly. Nickleby had a touchy sort of pride himself, but he always seemed a bit embarrassed around Frank because Frank’s uncles Cheeryble had hired him, like he owed them something and owed Frank by extension. Not so the sister! She was polite, of course—no one could find any fault in her manners. But she’d clearly got tired of owing others and feeling humbly obliged, and so she had decided to meet everyone as an equal. Her faith in her brother was such that Frank almost felt the Cheerybles owed Nickleby for taking up with them, and her faith in the future made Frank, who had never given it much thought, long to see it for himself.
And she did have the most beautiful blue eyes.
The thing about Kate Nickleby, Frank decided, is that you’d never know to look at her how demned strong the girl is. To look at her round, sweet face, with its kind smile and innocent blue eyes, you’d think she’d never had anything more serious to think about than whether or not lemon tea with lemon tarts was really too much lemon for one meal.
But that wasn’t so—no, not at all. Nickleby wasn’t terribly chatty about what ordeals his sister had undergone, but Frank could tell, by the way his mouth tightened and his veins stretched blue and pulsing over his clenched knuckles when he spoke about it, that it had been a bad business. Besides the death of Mr. Nickleby, Sr.—and it was clear by the sadness that hung about the Nicklebys just how harsh a blow that had been—the family had clearly fallen on rough times, financially speaking. The uncle was, by all accounts, a rotter of the worst kind, who’d taken an unreasonable dislike to Nickleby and had shoved Miss Kate amidst a gang of lunatics and scoundrels in exchange for some paltry financial assistance. It made Frank’s blood boil to think what kind of humiliations Kate had had to endure.
But the thing was—and this really was the thing about Kate Nickleby, the thing that made Frank think about her all the time—she never succumbed to the gloom, as far as Frank could tell. She was as patient with her mother as anyone could ask for, a good deal more patient than Frank would be in her place. Despite the paltry furnishings and small space the Nicklebys shared, Kate seemed to be doing a good job keeping the place clean and quite respectable-looking, even pretty. Frank didn’t quite understand where and why Nickleby had picked up the crippled invalid over whom there had been so much dispute with the uncle, but Kate was kindness personified in dealing with the fellow, and Smike clearly adored her.
And she had pride, in herself and her brother and her family. Whenever Frank saw her, and they exchanged a friendly greeting or two, she always held her head up high, looking Frank in the eye and speaking her mind clearly. Nickleby had a touchy sort of pride himself, but he always seemed a bit embarrassed around Frank because Frank’s uncles Cheeryble had hired him, like he owed them something and owed Frank by extension. Not so the sister! She was polite, of course—no one could find any fault in her manners. But she’d clearly got tired of owing others and feeling humbly obliged, and so she had decided to meet everyone as an equal. Her faith in her brother was such that Frank almost felt the Cheerybles owed Nickleby for taking up with them, and her faith in the future made Frank, who had never given it much thought, long to see it for himself.
And she did have the most beautiful blue eyes.