NaNoWriMo Story Snippets

66. Excerpt from 'Vaguely Victorian'

A friend had requested a Regency-era type fic, and I very quickly realized I had zero idea of all the intricate societal rules. I'm not great with the Victorian era either, so this is "vaguely old". Basically, Finn has been entrusted with Becky's care by her now-deceased father and they've moved from Dublin to Canada to seek better opportunities. (I don't know if this one will get finished, but I'll try.)

"I want to go too!"

Finn looked over at his dear friend and sighed. Rebecca was as dear to him as his own family so when her father was dying and asked him to help find Rebecca a suitable husband, Finn had automatically agreed. Ken had treated him as well as a son, helping him along his way, and it was only right to return the favour. Rebecca, on the other hand, had a habit of making everything difficult, and this was no different. "It's men's business, Rebecca," Finn said firmly. He didn't exactly want to tell her he was going to a fighting club in hopes of making some money, after all, and not just because he was now the one responsible for her future. Knowing her, she would try to come along. "I don't know when I'll get back," he added, "so don't wait up for me. We can talk over breakfast."

Rebecca, of course, was having none of it. She planted herself in his path so he couldn't reach the door, grabbing irritably at her skirts. At home, before her father had past, she had often worn men's clothes to make it easier helping on the farm, and she was finding it difficult adjusting to women's attire. "I didn't come all the way to Canada to sit at home and drink tea, Fergal!"

He winced at the use of his legal name. One of the first things Finn had done when deciding to uproot himself and Rebecca from Dublin to Canada was change his name. He had been involved in some shady dealings back in Ireland, many he wasn't proud of, and while an ocean could swallow a great many things—including a bad reputation, he hoped—he wanted to leave as little as possible to chance. And so according to their travel papers, he was now Finn Balor and she was Rebecca Lynch, his adopted sister of sorts. "You can't call me that here, Rebecca!" he hissed, gesturing to the door. "This is supposed to be a new start for both of us!"

She flounced around him to the window, batting her skirt out of her way before pointing out to the busy street below. "Do you honestly think any of them care? That anyone here will care? Ireland is an ocean away!" It was hard to tell if it was anger or sadness making her eyes glisten, because both could bring her to tears, much to her chagrin and annoyance. "No one here even knows who we are!"

"You might be surprised," Finn answered grimly. The ocean might be vast, but he also knew that news could travel far and once it landed, it was rarely the same as it started. The same goes for people, he thought, sparing a glance at his reflection in the mirror. He had cropped his hair closer than he was used to and ran a hand self-consciously over his head. The less they have to grab in the pit, he reasoned, the better. He wasn't opposed to fighting in general—whether for pleasure or profit or a bit of both—but he knew Ken had wanted a better life for his daughter. Finn had done his best in Dublin, but he had burned too many bridges, so now he had to look further afield. "Where I'm going... it's not safe for you." As soon as the words passed his lips, he knew it was the wrong thing to say. Finn had always treated Rebecca like as much of an equal as possible, but it made moments like this incredibly challenging. "Please just trust me. We'll talk over breakfast and I promise I will give weight to what you have to say."

"Give weight," she echoed snidely as she turned from the window. They were six years apart in age, but Finn swore she could veer from childish petulance to bitter old woman in the blink of an eye. "What does that mean? I'll be able to go out on my own? To work? I need something to do, Fer—Finn." Her shoulders slumped as she walked back towards him. "You said it yourself: no one knows who we are here. Aside from you, I have no one. But you can at least go out and experience all of this... this newness. You can make new friends. I'm stuck here with a cook who burns more things than I ever did, a carriage driver, and the stable boys!"

"Rebecca, please." Finn cupped her cheeks and kissed her forehead. "This is challenging for me as well. Let me get my footing, get established, and then we'll see. Things seem more open here, but we don't want to push too hard too fast. The English already don't like us and we don't have to give them any more reasons."

Rebecca snorted softly. "They're not exactly the most likeable sorts themselves."

Finn smiled. "Be that as it may, we need to do our best here. It's a big world, but there are only so many places we can go."