?

Log in

No account? Create an account

QueenD
Dinah Lance blondecanary
Previous Entry Share Next Entry
The Clocktower, New Gotham, Saturday
Dinah had actually bought some pretty nice presents for Priestly's birthday, and had found a good place to get a cake (the guy shouldn't have to make one on his own birthday (unless he really wanted to)). It was going to be a pretty cool day--

--but Dinah was not in residence. Instead, Elizabeth Tudor, Queen of England, France and Ireland, Defender of the Faith, etc. (circa 1558), was stopping by.

Currently she was looking out the glass windows of the Clocktower in amazement, a little fear, and a great deal of bewilderment.

Which would probably shortly become 'really pissed off' as soon as she had someone to talk to.


[Open for visits and phone calls! Dinah is now Queen Elizabeth I, based on Rachel Skarsten's appearances on Reign.]

Elizabeth gave him a puzzled look. "If they won't work, how can they earn?" She paused and added, "Well, unless they're an indigent vagrant, in which case we can issue them a begging license. There are other kinds of chocolate?" She paused to examine a very nice piece of silverware. "Whose home is this, your friend who is missing?"

"I can promise you, they'd basically all much rather be doing meaningful work for a living wage." Priestly actually had this argument regularly at work, too. How sad was that? "But your laws file everyone away into classes, so nobles can't be blacksmiths if they want to and poor people can't do anything but get locked into indentured servitude or pick pockets if they don't want to starve. That's oppressive. Your laws oppress everybody. Including you." He found some hot cocoa mix and started heating some milk on the stove. "And yeah, this place belongs to Dinah and her family. Though I'm not sure where Barbara and Helena and Alfred got off to. . . . You didn't scare them off, did you? Threaten to behead them?"

Admittedly, that would not actually scare any of them off.

"I can not create employment out of thin air," Elizabeth said in exasperation. "There is the army, and the navy, for men with skills; the church for those with education enough... I am not oppressed!" Offended, but not oppressed. "I am the Queen of England, Ireland and France!" Hello, also, the part of America you said wasn't hers any more! "I have seen no one here since my arrival. Aside from yourself.... and why on Earth would any noble wish to be a blacksmith?"

"Why wouldn't they?" Priestly shot back. "Is there something wrong with being a blacksmith? And you: you're not even allowed to apologize. Everyone's on you all the time to get married even though you don't want to. You don't have any choices, either. The whole system is built just to keep everyone in their place."

"It is honorable work, but back-breaking, and of less influence than politics or those occupations a gentleman may take up," Elizabeth responded. She paused and said, almost sounding conciliatory, "My lot is better than that of other women. I want for nothing. I have the luxury of rejecting suitors. The power to make changes. The education to do so wisely. To aspire to more would be..." Unimaginable. She shook her head and looked at the preparations he'd made. "You are a very contentious person, Sir Priestly. Toast?"

The elevator sounded in the hallway, and she turned toward it with a frown. "What is that?"

"Possibly Dinah's family," Priestly said. "Which means you might get to be appalled by female fashion of the 21st century as well as my contentious politics."

He was kind of hoping Liz and Alfred would very politely throw down. He'd sell tickets to that.

Barbara, Helena and Alfred came out of the elevator, Alfred toting a very large sheet cake with frosting designs of cooking utensils and the words, 'Kiss the Cook, he's 24!' written on it. They stopped in the doorway to survey the scene.

"Ah." Barbara sighed, surveying the Queen with bemusement. "I see we're a little late for the party."

Helena was there in skin-tight leggings and a shirt that was falling off her shoulders.

Queen E did, in fact, look stunned and rather appalled.

"Hi guys," Priestly greeted with a rueful wave. "Fandom did a thing. Anyone want cocoa?"

"What is she wearing?" You were bad enough, Priestly, but at least you were covered modestly enough. "What is she... what is that chair?" Because it was rolling by itself, and while Queen Elizabeth had firmly ignored the parts of the Clocktower she couldn't explain, that chair was rather right there. At least the old man looked respectable? Wait. "Cake?"

Edited at 2015-12-06 03:32 am (UTC)

"Hey, 'Let them eat cake' is after your time. By, like, two hundred years," Priestly said. "It's a wheelchair. Powered by electricity. Fancy science-magic. Like the fridge."

"You're babbling again."

Are we sure Arthur isn't her ancestor?

"I want one." That was even better than the food things!

Not even remotely.

"I am not, I'm explaining. It's not my fault you have four hundred years of catching up to do. And your legs work fine. No wheelchair for you."

"If I might." Trust Alfred to recognize who this had to be. Although the fact that she had Dinah's face was rather unexpected. "I am Alfred Pennyworth, Your Majesty. My employers, Miss Helena Kyle and Miss Barbara Gordon. Miss Gordon has been paralyzed from the waist down; her chair is to assist in her mobility." He placed the cake on the counter, and gave Priestly a speaking look. Sorry about your birthday, Priestly. "Many happy returns of the day, Master Priestly."

"This blows," Helena muttered, studying the Queen. "Although that dress looks great on Dinah."

"Welcome to the Clocktower, Your Majesty," Barbara said with a sigh. "Sorry we weren't here when you arrived, Priestly."

Priestly shrugged. "It's not like this particular Fandom thing is all that predictable," he said. "And besides, you brought cake!" He finished up the batch of cocoa he was making and poured some into a mug for Elizabeth. "Here you are, your highness. Hot cocoa. It's probably going to be a lot sweeter than you're used to."

Queen E. gave him a pissy look for that, and nodded regally to the interlopers. "Thank you for your hospitality, Miss Gordon, Miss... Kyle." She was watching you, Miss I Can't Wear Real Clothes. "Pennyworth. Our arrival is very unexpected, as I hope you can understand." She took a sip of her cocoa, and then mmmmmm'd. And starting nearly chugging it. "I like this. I like this *very* much." Cocoa was a lot easier to contemplate than magical time travel.

(no subject) - lovemykilt, 2015-12-06 04:05 am (UTC)(Expand)