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hopepaigeturner · 2 years ago

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🎄 Giftmas Day 3: Basket of favourite food. Polin

I saw the prompt and instantly I thought of Polin! A little modern AU.

Enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*

Penelope double-checked the shopping list and surveyed the bags on her kitchen island.

Shortbread—check.

Chocolate Buttons—check.

Greg’s sausage roll—check.

The list went on to include Colin’s favourite cider, the one that their local childhood brewery made; a packet of Moams like the ones they used to chuck to each other like grapes during school breaktimes; a packet microwave popcorn—one sweet and one salty although not to be combined until cooked.

It was a lot of work for a homecoming present, but over the years Penelope had enjoyed assembling the package. Whenever she brought that specific packet of chocolate buttons or baked those brownies it felt like walking through a photo album.

But the best part would be after the gifting. When Colin would take her to a park, or they would camp down in the lounge and share the feast. He would tell raucous adventures in far flung places while Penelope talked about the gossip in her office. Such days she could spend and imagine that they were on a proper date and that she didn’t need to bribe her way into his affections.

Colin was her best friend. Always had been and always would. No matter how much Penelope wished for more.

The doorbell rang.

Penelope checked the time—pointless. Eloise was out with her new boyfriend, and she was seeing Colin tomorrow.

She opened the door.

“Hi.”

“Colin?” Penelope cried, jumping into his arms. She felt his chuckle in her chest as they hugged.

“Hiya Pen.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I got an earlier flight.”

“Whatever for?”

Something flickered on Colin’s face—no, no she was imagining things.

“Always want to keep you on your toes.”

“Oh, but I haven’t got your gift ready!” Penelope gasped, mortified as they entered the flat.

“No worries, I’ve got a surprise.”

“For me?”

“No for Noddy—of course for you—put this on.”

He handed her a black mask, like the ones given out on long-haul flights.

“A blindfold?”

“Trust me?” She looked up at him. His eyes had always sparked with mischief, but that spark could never outweigh the calm blue hue of his iris.

“Ofcourse.”

He led her out her and into a car and they drove. Penelope tried to count the turns but gave up and peppered Colin with questions.

“Patience woman! Let me do something nice for you for once.”

That shut her up. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had done something for her.

Eventually they pulled up somewhere and Colin helped her out the car and through another door. She heard the ‘ting’ of the lift. He took off her blindfold and Penelope was affronted by a set of stairs. She turned to him; Colin shrugged.

“I thought it would be safer.”

Penelope didn’t give it a second thought and ascended. Although she did notice his fingers rhythmically tapping on the handrail as they climbed. Typically, she could guess which song the beat belonged to but there seemed to be no correlation today.

Finally, they reached a door and Penelope opened it and gasped.

They were on a roof at least ten stories up, looking over Hyde Park. Her dream location.

In the centre was a beautifully decorated basket filled with some very familiar items.

“Colin?” she whispered, turning to him. Colin squirmed under her gaze, blushing.

“It’s for you.”

Penelope walked forward and crouched to look through the basket. Some were shared memories, like Moams or Chocolate Buttons. But then there was some ginger beer in the fancy bottle little teashops always used—her favourite. A packet of Wotsits—her favourite. Colin the Caterpillar (her birthday cake for over two decades). And dip-dabs and little macarons from Laduree and fruit winders and…

Every single item revolved around her. That included the Prosecco chilling ina bucket rather than champagne.

“What are we celebrating?” she asked.

“You.” She turned and found Colin on her knees next to her, looking a little sick. “It’s all for you, Pen. My Pen.”

Penelope’s breath caught. He had called her that since she was seven years old, but in that precise moment it held a whole new meaning.

She stared, wordless, as words tumbled out of Colin’s mouth.

“A couple nights ago some veteran backpacker—at least in his fifties—joined our group for dinner. H spent the entire evening just…cracking open the world to us far better than all our travels had done. At one point he asked our opinion for the reason men gaze at the horizon. We all piped in about yearning for adventure, or reaching new depths of life, but he waved all our answers away. He said that men look at the horizon because they are looking for home. He explained that while the world is a vast mystery ready to be explored, deep down in one’s soul there is only one calling—a calling for home. And the horizon reminds man where his home is, the one place he yearns to belong.” He took her hands in his. “The next morning I stood and looked out to the horizon and all I thought about, all my heart yearned for…was you.”

Penelope could barely breathe; she could only drown in his words and the soulful expression in his eyes.

“And I realised that for far too long I have been lost, for far too long I have been blind. I have scoured the earth for the very thing that was right in front of me. The one person who is the best thing in my life. The one person who features in my favourite adventures. The one woman who has always had my heart.”

He brought their clasped hands to his heart. Through the fabric of his t-shirt Penelope could just make out the rapidity of his heartbeat. Another rhythm she knew so well.

. “I know I will never be able to make up for all the kindness you have shown me, but this,” he gestured to the basket, “is my offering. A slim offering that does nothing to convey the depth of my feelings for you. The depths…the depths of my love for you Pen.”

In the distance a siren swelled down the street, the wind rippled around them, but Penelope did not feel the chill.

“You love me?”

Colin flinched at her tone and mistook it for disgust rather than disbelief,

“You do not have to say anything back, you do not—”

“But I love you.” He halted, mouth gaping. Penelope shuffled forward and cupped his face. “I have loved you for years Colin Bridgerton. It’s about time you caught up.” Then ever so gently she kissed him.

Penelope’s heart swooped, like a bird dropping off a cliff, rushing towards the sea before suddenly, at the last moment, banking and rising high, high, high into the sky. Her heart continued its trajectory as Colin kissed back with unrelenting passion. Her hands went to his hair as his went around her waist.

And just like their first conversation, their first hug, their first dance at prom and the first time they greeted each other in an airport—it felt as natural as the sun setting along the horizon behind them.

But they weren’t looking at the horizon. They had no need to ever look at it again.

#12 days of giftmas #bridgerton #polin #modern au #romancing mister bridgerton #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #food baskets #cute romantic feels #I don't know where that metaphor came from #it just happened #best friends to lovers

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hopepaigeturner · 2 years ago

Note

Ahhh I’m literally living for your S4 theories/ideas posts please don’t ever stop! I’m curious though what would you like to happen at My Cottage and lake scenes? I really do hope they focus on establishing Benedict and Sophie’s emotional connection here but I worry they won’t want to spend more than an episode in this setting or without cutting to too many scenes back in London/the ton…

So, buckle in, here we go. (Lake scene will be in another post)

An Offer From an Avid Reader: The Importance of My Cottage Pt.2

This Pt.2 of my ideas concerning the S4 adaptation of the 'My Cottage' period in AOFAG. I've decided to split it up because...altogether I think it's too long for one post.

Pt.1= Why My Cottage is needed (here).

Pt.2= How Benophie's relationship could be developed during this period.

Pt.3= ,How these ideas would link in with an episodic structure and other S4 storyline. (analytically)

What needs to happen:

Pre-lake scene we need to see how perfect Benophie are for each other. We need to see their relationship grow from acquantances to friends (and more). The viewer needs to see easy intimacy, emotional bonding and the foundation fo theri friendship.

Key adaptation changes:

Firstly the structure/context of My Cottage period needs a couple tweaks.

First. Instead of transpiring over two days before Mr and Mrs Crabtree return-> this period should last atleast 3 weeks.

This time frame will allow a reasonable amount of time for the pair to develop friendship/ care for each other without any restrictions.

Idea: During the storm, a tree falls blocking the path. No one can get through—it is just them two in that house.

Second. Sophie has yet to recognise Benedict.

This will happen during the My Cottage period, but I feel delaying recognition will let the pair be on an even keel as they create this relationship. And come on, it took Benedict’s months to recognise Sophie, we can forgive Sophie for not recognising him for a few weeks.

To make this plausible, during the masquerade scenes, Benedict does not reveal his name. Yes, Sophie identifying him as ‘Benedict’ links with Benedict’s whole ‘not just no.2’ arc. But I also think this sentiment could work if the pair have been chatting for a while and their identities do come up. Benedict asks the question and Sophie replies—you are an artist. Not only would she not identify him as ‘no.2’ but identify him as his own person without the association with the Bridgertons. In Sophie’s eyes he is literally just ‘him’ (Benedict), just the person he has presented to her on that terrace—not his family nor his status. (Also, we don’t need to have the Colin interaction.)

Third. The viewer does not know details of Sophie's backstory.

The viewer can guess that Sophie=Lady in Silver. But they do not know anything else. While in the books JQ likes to dump the backstory at the beginning of the tale, I think it would be more suspensful and interesting for the viewer to gradually uncover it as the series goes on (Idea for another post).

Idea: Sophie taking care of Benedict

The first scenes at My Cottage is Sophie taking care of Benedict during his fever. And this would occur in the concluding scenes of Episode 1 and the opening of episode 2.

Mainly the lead up to this can match the book. The pair arrive in the storm; the exchange of Benedict not wishing Sophie to sleep in the servant quarters. Benedict’s cough worsening to fever, Sophie undressing him, getting him into bed etc. (And yes, let’s make this as COMEDIC as possible.)

The one thing I would change is the whole ‘kiss me’ fever scene. With Bridgerton’s current reputation concerning consent, I think Sophie kissing a fever-ridden Benedict would make matters worse. That does not mean we can’t have Sophie calming Benedict down during a fever or her sarcastic commentary during his groans and moans.

All of the above would be happening at the tail end of episode 1.

I have an idea that the end of the episode is Sophie snooping through Benedict’s things, finding his hidden sketchbooks and enjoying, appreciating his art. And just as she is about to turn the final page to see the final sketch—Benedict coughs horrifically and Sophie returns to nursing duties.

However, the camera stays focused on the sketchbook, the pages tumbling to a close, a ripped page slipping out—a sketch of the Lady in Silver uncannily similar to Sophie.

END EPISODE.

Opening of Episode 2: WARNING MAKE CONTAIN SPOONS

As stated above, it is my wish that Mr and Mrs Crabtree do not arrive for three weeks rather than after one night. Therefore, the ‘morning after’ scene in the book needs to be changed…

Benedict wakes up groggy, disorientated to find Sophie tucked into a chair, after caring for him. Benedict smiles at the sight before realising the peculiarities of the situation and wakes her up. Sophie startles awake and she explains the facts that Benedict does not remember.

A possible exchange:

“Well, well, quite forward of you to disrobe me.”

“You were shivering.”

“Did you at least appreciate the view?”

“I saw no view, thank you very much”.

The conversation keeps going on, the pair bantering and riling each other up (ensuring Sophie breaks the servant-meek-and-mild routine she instinctively adopts), before Benedict becomes exhausted again, allowing Sophie to flounce out in frustration muttering.

“I cannot wait to be rid of here. As soon as my clothes are dry I am gone.”

//SCENE//

“Damn it.”

Sophie dressed and looking up in horror at the mess of fallen trees completely blocking any exit.

//SCENE//

Sophie sitting down next to Benedict with a tray of food and announcing,

“We have a slight problem.”

“Hmm?”

“We cannot leave.”

“Whatever do you mean? Delicious food by the way.”

Sophie is a little flustered by the compliment and so the viewer realises that Sophie is not used to such kindness.

“None of us can leave until the tree blocking the entire road is cleared.”

While talking Benedict is surreptitiously moving food onto her plate after noting how hungry Sophie is.

“So, you are stuck with me.”

“I suppose I am.”

“For atleast a couple fo weeks.”

“Weeks?”

“My house is the furthest for the village and I obviously have lots of provision, so I always make sure the damage in the village is dealt with before me. I think you find we have enough food…”

Benedict continues to rib her for a little until he notices how nervous she is. He set the food aside and offers that, if Sophie wishes, they may keep separate lives during the period, then vows that he would never make untoward advances and her safety is of paramount importance to him.

Sophie accepts this but makes a quip that indicates that she does not necessarily wish for total separation. (“After all who is going to cook?”). She laughs away Benedict’s offer of culinary skills, and their banter turns into something softer, a little bit of ease slipping between the pair.

Eventually, Sophie bids him good night, Benedict eyes following her as she exits with a little smile.

“This should be interesting.”

*~*~*~*~*

I wish to point out that I don’t have too many concrete ideas for these scenes, so I do not mind if people can write a better one. What needs to happen (the objective) is that Benophie establish the first shoots of a bond/friendship and set up for the pair to bond further over this period.

Now, the following ideas are ones not in the book and just some ideas of how the Benophie romance could develop over the My Cottage period’. These ideas are not in the least bit prescriptive, but just ideas tat I feel serve the story, build the romance and also link in with my other ideas for events occurring later in the series.

Idea: Moment of Emotional Connection/Vulnerability

This is really important. I am an utter sucker for two characters connecting through emotions/past and being vulnerable to one another…

The evening after Benedict has healed, and Sophie has accepted to stay, she is trying to process everything and accidentally knocks over her water jug which crashes to the floor along with a framed portrait of Benedict’s father that gets ruined in the water.

Sophie instantly, hectically, tries to tidy up, but the whole situation triggers a memory. The viewer sees this memory in flashes; a disembodied voice full of fury; Sophie’s tears; the foreboding clack of heels along the corridor…

Benedict rushes to see what has happened to Sophie and instantly rushes forward to help her, calling her to get away just in case she is hurt. He does react to his father’s destroyed portrait, (a clench of his jaw perhaps) but as soon as he sees the pure terror in Sophie’s eyes he quickly tries to calm her down, and brings her over to the bed. Sophie at this point is still trying to apologise over and over again while she is in the midst of a panic attack.

And Benedict helps her calm down.

(This could be through any of the various techniques used to calm panic attacks down. I am most confident in the 54321 technique which goes through all the senses. But this is not necessarily prescriptive for the scene. The point is that Benedict somehow knows what he is doing and it works.).

Once Sophie is calm, (still apologising), Benedict realises that Sophie has cut herself badly on the jug. Benedict immediately brings her into his room and starts to clean the wound (after finding appropriate materials) regardless of Sophie’s protests until he says,

“Just stop complaining and let me take care of you.”

Sophie is stunned into silence, watching in disbelief as Benedict starts tidying her wound, his hands gentle, face concentrated on her.

I have written a much longer scene for this but basically, Benedict coaxes Sophie to open up about why she had the panic attack—even if that is a vague answer about bad treatment from an ‘old mistress’ (*wink* Araminta *wink*). And when Sophie starts to press about the picture, the topic stumbles onto Edward Bridgertons death.

Here Sophie continues to probe Benedict about how he grieved his father, because every time he answers he discusses how he helped all his other siblings during that tricky time (reading to Eloise, playing with Gregory, getting Francesca to talk etc.). Until the viewer and Benedict get to the realisation that he never actually grieved, instead took on the role of emotional support because of Violet’s depression.

Finally, after Benedict wrestles with this thought, he stumbles upon what he did do to grieve…he sketched. Telling a story about how his Grandma Alexandra always made him sketch with her every day for at least an hour. Sophie makes a comment about the sketchbooks he found whilst ‘snooping’ and Benedict firmly tells her he is not an artist, that it is a fantasy he has put aside. “That is a shame for you have the correct temperament for one.” she replies. Benedict looks at Sophie as if she is a marvel, causing the air to soften around them.

Benedict finally finishes bandaging Sophie’s hand (with tips from Sophie) and the topic turns to how the next couple weeks are going to work now that Sophie’s dominant hand is out of action. Benedict shuts down her insistence that she shall cope just fine. Then he offers to do the work. Sophie laughs but realises that Benedict is not joking. Benedict explains that with Sophie’s expertise and Benedict’s hands, the house could be kept to a liveable standard. A banterous back and forth ensues with Sophie and Benedict giving reasons until Benedict ask her to provide another solution. She cannot, so reluctantly agrees.

The scene ends with Benedict taking Sophie back to her room, the joviality of their banter falling away to leave something sweeter, something that reflects the moonlight shining down through the window.

“Good night, Benedict,” Sophie whispers. “And thank you—for everything.”

“Good night, Sophie,” and then he catches her hand and kisses it reverently. “Tonight, has meant more than you can imagine.”

And then he leaves, off down the corridor and back into his room.

Sophie shuts the doors and flops onto the bed with the first proper, teeth-smiling grin the viewer has seen so far in the series.

Benedict mirrors Sophie with the same soft smile before sighing with contentment.

END SCENE

Mhmm we get some ‘character who has never been cared for before finally receives care’ scenario going on—a common trope but nonetheless a golden one.

What I have outlined is not prescriptive, but the objective of the scene is to show Benophie providing emotional support for one another. For we have two caretkers here who do everything for other people. Yet who asks after the caretaker? In Benophie’s case, it is each other.

(Also, with the viewer not knowing Sophie’s backstory yet, it would give insight into Sophie a bit more).

If the show nails this then I'll be like...

Idea: Benedict Bridgerton being a domestic boi.

That's right ladies and gentlemen. It's Benedict turn to join the hapless helpless Bridgerton club.

ESTABLIHSING SCENE:

The next morning, after their emotional tete-a-tete, Sophie walks downstairs to find the kitchen in utter disarray. Benedict is standing in the middle swearing at the oven.

“What is going on here?”

Benedict swivels around.

“I wanted to make you breakfast.”

“I thought you had never cooked before?”

“Well how hard could it be!”

Sophie looks at the soot on his face and the countless matches around the oven—she raises an eyebrow

“Quite hard from the looks of it.”

Benedict is not pleased.

SMALLER MOMENTS:

So, Benedict starts his ‘education’ so to speak. And yes, he is terrible, and Sophie get a few good laughs out of it and the pair bicker and banter—but Benedict tries and gradually gets proficient. (In the montage you could have Benedict make Sophie a terrible cup of tea, then later in the montage we see him make a proper breakfast with nice tea).

And yes, we can get an obligatory Benedict-chopping-wood-shirtless scene because gosh this is Boink-erton after all.

I would love this to be a little vignette of Sophie sipping her tea muttering. “Completely unnecessary, it is not even that hot outside.” But still staring as Benedict chops wood shirtless—blushing when Benedict catches her and waves.

Another potential moment:

Benedict walks in from the garden with strawberries and offers one to Sophie.

“Strawberry? They are delicious.”

“Where did you get strawberries from?”

“The vegetable patch and greenhouse.”

Sophie halts, with a look of utter exasperation.

“We have a vegetable patch?”

Cautiously, Benedict points in the general direction and nods. This just seems to exasperate Sophie further.

“Are you telling me that I have been trying to scrounge food from scraps when we have a vegetable patch? Next you shall tell me that we have an orchard.”

“Well…”

Sophie throws her hands in the air.

“Unbelievable!” And she starts striding out to investigate, muttering just loud enough for Benedict to hear, “Scraps I have been using when we have a complete vegetable patch—honestly…posh boys…”

And Benedict is just left there, head cocked, mouthing; We? As if trying the word out. He smiles—that does not sound strange at all, actually it sounds…right.

PURPOSE:

Not only can can these moments highlight the pair's growing ease and comfort, but it will also show Benedict how to live a more simplistic life—a simplistic life he enjoys.

Ofcourse at the end of the day Benophie have a perfectly comfortable life, but I think with experiencing how he can be happy in such a simplistic, hard-working lifestyle will help Benedict overcome some more of his reservations for marrying Sophie.

Idea: Sophie in Breeches.

I’ll say it again, and I will keep saying it until the Bridgerton writers somehow hear me.

Sophie wearing breeches. Sophie wearing breeches. SOPHIE WEARING BREECHES!

The scenario. Now that Sophie is staying for three weeks, (rather than three days as in the book) it is more imperative that she finds something suitable to wear—atleast something she can wear while she washes her typical dress/dresses. And because of her injury she is not as busy. So eventually (after Sophie’s current breeches fall down yet again), Benedict suggests she just cuts up a pair of his and sew a pair herself. (He has far too many clothes anyway).

So, Sophie does. It takes a couple days (sewing with her non-dominant hand is quite slow). Then one breakfast Sophie presents herself in full breeches and shirt, using the shirt as a type of chemise with her stays on top. Benedict almost spits out his tea.

POSSIBLE ESTABLISHING SCENE:

The scene could continue, with Benedict asking Sophie to wear a waistcoat (because at least then he doesn’t have to imagine what her stays are pushing up). She agrees…

“Benedict!”

Benedict halts and starts running to her call.

“Sophie! Sophie?” he trails off when he sees her just staring into a wardrobe. She turns to him in disbelief.

“How many waistcoats does one gentleman need?”

Scene continues where Sophie makes exaggerated remarks about cost/quality/quantity, gently bullying Benedict into choosing one for her because he is the ‘artistic’ one. He makes a self-deprecating comment that she brushes away and he chooses one, one that ‘matches her eyes’. In this scene Benedict could see his long-forgotten art supplies, planting a little idea in his head…

And this is what Sophie wears all the time during this period. We could see her wear Benedict’s past waistcoats and I even have an idea that on the day Benedict starts sketching again (more below) she wears the same waistcoat he wore during the drug trip in S2E3 (back then he had a breakthrough of his art, just as how Sophie inspires an artistic breakthrough in the present).

It’s not necessary at all, but just a self-indulgent detail on my part.

Idea: Poetry Competition

ESTABLISHING SCENE:

Sophie and Benedict are lounging at the kitchen table, dinner yet to be cleared away.

“Alright Beckett, who wrote this?

“Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll; Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul.”

Sophie gives him an exasperated look.

“That one is too easy—Alexander Pope. Rape of the Lock.” Benedict shakes his head after being scuppered. Sophie sits up. “My turn—

"Thou silver deity of secret night, Direct my footsteps through the woodland shade; Thou conscious witness of unknown delight, The Lover's guardian, and the Muse's aid!"

“Lady Mary Montagu. ‘A Hymn to the Moon’.”

“Correct. You know of female poets,” Sophie comments with a tone of surprise.

Benedict grins, stands up and recites.

"Thou silver deity of secret night, Direct my footsteps through the woodland shade; Thou conscious witness of unknown delight, The Lover's guardian, and the Muse's aid!

By thy pale beams I solitary rove, To thee my tender grief confide; Serenely sweet you gild the silent grove, My friend, my goddess, and my guide.

E'en thee, fair queen, from thy amazing height, The charms of young Endymion drew; Veil'd with the mantle of concealing night; With all thy greatness and thy coldness too."

“See?” He sits back down. “Does that meet your expectations?”

“I—uh, well…” Sophie tries to make coherent thoughts after being entranced during Benedict’s recitation. “Yes, yes, it does.” She clears her throat, Benedict looking extremely amused at her flustering. “Go on then—your turn.”

Benedict pauses for a moment before reciting a short stanza, eyes boring into hers, a gaze full of sincerity that matches the sweetness of his words.

Once more it takes a couple moments for Sophie to reply.

“I do not know that one. But it was…it was utterly beautiful.”

Benedict gives her a timid smile.

“That is one of mine.”

“You wrote that?”

Benedict squirms once more under such a direct compliment, but for some reason he does not wish to deflect.

“Yes, yes I did.”

Sophie scoffs.

“You, Benedict I-am-not-an-artist Bridgerton wrote that?”

“Yes?”

She looks at him in disbelief.

“I do not know why you are so modest; it is very clear to me that you are an artist.”

“Sophie…no I am not—”

“You speak beautiful poetry, can pick out flattering colours to compliment one’s complexion—and you even present dinner in a pretty pattern or palette.”

“Sophie, I am not an artist!”

Sophie is silenced at his terse tone; he deflates.

“I am sorry…I know you mean well.” He fiddles with her hands, now well aware of how she withdraws after a harsh tone or mistake. “But I tried…I tried and failed.”

Benedict then reveals everything about the royal academy. And it is clear to the viewer that it still affects him.

“…I know Anthony meant well but he did to understand—he still does not understand that I…I wanted…”

“You wanted to prove yourself on your own merit, rather than your family’s. You wanted one place where your last name was irrelevant. A place where you were Benedict—not just a Bridgerton.”

Once again, Benedict is staring at her.

Sophie blushes and shrinks away.

“I apologise. I spoke out of turn and have been impertinent—”

“No, no, no—not at all.” Benedict says earnestly, catching her hands so she cannot move away. “Your words were…your words were brilliant,” he softly caresses her hand with his thumb, eyes earnest as he says, “You are brilliant.”

Sophei shakes her head and pulls away. Benedict catches her jaw, so his hand is cupping her face.

“Why do you do that?” he asks softly.

“Do what?” Sophie whispers back even though it is only them two for miles.

“Whenever you speak your mind or even just talk, you apologise."

“I am a maid,” Sophie says although the viewer can see that this is not the whole truth.

Benedict shakes his head and earnestly says,

“Not here, here you are Sophie. And I like your voice, I like your opinions, I like your laugh.” His words seem to have a significant impact on Sophie that the viewer does not understand yet. (More on that in a post about Sophie’s arc) ““You do not need to stay silent, never on my account, never with me. Promise you will not.”

“Benedict,” she whispers. “It is not that easy.” But his eyes do not waver.

“Promise me.”

“I promise I shall try. If you promise to stop ascribing insults to yourself that are counterfeit.”

“I promise I shall try.”

Sophie smiles and breaks the hold, she wipes under ehr eyes and Benedict allows her to return to easier ground--another little thing he has learnt. Sophie returns to the game.

“I think it was my turn;

She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes;”

“Byron? Really?” Benedict comments derision very clear.

“You are not enamoured with Byron?”

“Not particularly,” Sophie gets a wicked glint in her eye, “Sophie—no,"Benedict cries.

“Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies—”

“Sophie, no, please—”

“I am merely fulfilling my promise, Benedict." She quips back, before continuing with even more gusto than before.

One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impaired the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress, Or softly lightens o’er her face…”

Benedict keeps shaking his head vehemently, but Sophie continues. She gets up, reciting the poem like an actor on a stage and Benedict can only watch, his smile unwavering at this wonderful woman in front of him.

*~*~*~*~*

Not only does this bring artsy discussion about poetry, it gives Luke T some great romantic moment a la S2E2. It also hints at Sophie's slightly out-of-the-ordinary education (for a maid).

And it is also sets up another one of my ideas. That upon returning to London, Benedict notices that Sophie is struggling a little to adjust/unhappy, so starts the game anew by slipping little bits of paper back and forth. It becomes a way of communicating when they cannot speak their hearts.

Idea: Painting and Story-telling—two artists with the same heart.

ESTABLISHING SCENE:

There is finally an afternoon with nothing to do and Sophie finds Benedict lounging outside.

“Is there not washing to do?”

“No.”

“Cleaning?”

“I swept the floors, and you did the windowsills.”

“Dinner?”

“We prepared it after lunch—just sit-down Sophie.”

Sophie sits and fiddles

“Do you not have a book to read? Must I remind you that you may take any from the house.”

“No…for once I do not feel like reading.”

“Please find something to do because I’m trying to concentrate.”

And that is when the camera pans down and we find that Beneidct…is sketching.

“Oh, you are sketching.”

“Yes, I am trying to atleast, but nothing—none of it is right!” he grunts in frustration and snaps the book shut. “Pointless. All of it pointless.”

“It is not pointless,” Sophie points out settling down next to him. “You told me you have not painted in years so ofcourse it is not going to be right—you are out of practice. Do not give up after a mere half-hour.”

“Fine, but would you please settle. Otherwise, I fear I might not find any inspiration.”

“I am a maid, Benedict. I have spent every day of my life since the age fo fifteen working from sun up to sun-down I do not…settle.”

Benedict looks at her and his face softens, he shifts slightly towards her.

“When you are trying to go to sleep—what do you do to relax your mind?”

Sophie blushes.

“Well…I make up stories.”

“You do? What type of stories?”

“Silly little things.”

“I hardly think anything that comes from a mind as brilliant as yours could be silly.”

“I make up stories about fairies and knights and castles…” Sophe;s eyes drift as she revisits past memories, “in the house I grew up in there were lots of folktale and fairytales. I must have re-read them a thousand times...I have always found reading as a way to escape. And in those stories, and my own, I could escape into a world where evil is thwarted and good triumphs. I find solace in that…”

She is brought back to the present by Benedict squeezing her hand. She turns to him.

“I had never thought about reading that way…I have always drifted towards poetry because of its freedom both in composition and subject. Poetry speaks truth unlike fiction,” he comments.

“And art?”

Benedict ponders this slightly.

“Art conveys a message, an emotion or a moment. My favourite paintings are the ones where the emotions are imbued within the colours or brushstrokes. To capture a singular emotion, or just a singular moment, so clearly that anyone can take solace with it—that is what the great artists do.”

“Capturing moments…I like that phrasing.”

“All the pretty words in the world are useless if my skill is no good.”

“Practice makes perfect.”

“My mother would say that.”

“She is a wise person.”

“She is. Why not tell me one of your stories?”

“You truly wish to hear?”

“My sister Eloise is a writer; I love sitting on the swings as she explains her novel to me. It’s inspiring and I obviously need inspiration,” Benedict gestures down to the empty paper.

Sophie tries to settle down and Benedict returns to his paper. But the words fail to come.

“Why not close your eyes?” Benedict suggested. “And just tell me who your heroine is.”

Sophie obeys and settles further (on the grass or a lounger? Not picky) and starts telling him about her heroine (who shares a startling number of similarities to herself), before moving on to describe the mystical beast that accompanies her on these adventures. Benedict continues sketching and time passes until Sophie finishes recounting one of the many adventures she has conjured.

As she finishes, there’s silence while Benedict sketches. Sophie takes a moment to apreciate his profile—brow furrowed in concentration, blue eyes intent. And suddenly she feels a little self-conscious.

“Did I leave you suitably inspired?” she asks. Benedict murmurs, eyes still intent on shading something. She bites her lips then lunges for him,

“Well, will you atleast let me have a look—”

“Sophie wait—” she snatches the book out of his hands. Benedict winces, words rambling as Sophie stares. “It is a very rough sketch and the wings are not the correct shape, not to mention the shading on the horns—”

“It is brilliant.” He finally looks up to find her staring at his sketch, eyes wide with…wonder? She looks up at him with shining eyes. For a moment, Benedict forgets to breathe. “You are brilliant.” She shows him (and the viewer) the sketchbook.

Benedict has drawn the mystical animal that Sophie had just described, every little detail included.

At the sight Benedict blushes and rubs the back of his neck.

“That is very kind of you to say, but—”

“Oh stop being so modest.” She sits down net to him, fingers going over the lines. “Look,” she points to the sketch, “it is almost exactly how I imagined it in my mind. It is—you have…” she turns to look at him, “you have captured the moment.”

SMALLER MOMENTS:

Just a shot of the pair being content in silence. Sophie reading while Benedict sketching. Or the pair lying on the grass talking to one another, laughing with one another, discussing artists or authors. (Let's also have them both being unable to sit straight in chairs)

*~*~*~*~*

This is my idea to help flesh out Sophie a little more. I found it really weird that the only thing we know Sophie likes doing is reading. But nothing else--not the type of literautre, not the reason. Nothing. I honestly think JQ did it for plot convenience (so that Sophie can read to Benedict as he recovers).

So I think Sophie hasread a lot but I think due to her past but she likes escapist literature in particular. And her own stories were a coping mechanism that turned into a little passion. It does not need to be as grand as Eloise's aspirations.

(I have more ideas about how this can play out later in the season, later in the series concerning baby Bridgertons).

I also think having Benedict be inspired directly from something Sophie described, strengthens the idea that Sophie= his muse.

Idea: Dance lessons

SMALLER MOMENTS

During a cooking lesson Benedict and Sophie are bantering about his cooking proficiency. The conversation goes along the lines of “I can teach you something” and Sophie expresses disbelief. Benedict starts listing of things (from the serious to the comedic) until he gets to dancing. Off-handedly Sophie says she has always wished to learn how to dance but never had the time. Benedict insists he teches her, in payback.

So yes, as part of the montage/moments you have Sophie and Benedict having dance lessons. Little moments ranging from Benedict chivalrously (romantically) righting her when she stumbles, to the pair laughing at their hapless attempts or wincing when Sophie steps on his toe.

ESTABLISHING SCENE:

The main scene concerning the dance lessons is the scene where Sophie recognises Benedict as the man from the ball.

This is because it is the night Benedict decides to teach the waltz—just as he had done on the terrace two years prior. The pair start with their usual light-hearted tone as he teaches her the steps but as the scene goes on… their bodies are gradually getting closer and closer. Sophie continues to miss-step and Benedict whispers.

“Just look into my eyes.”

And she does and the moment becomes even more charged, the music that had played during the terrace dance-scene swelling. It is almost shot for shot of that prior scene at the Masquerade.

“Keep looking into my eyes,” Benedict whispers, his voice hoarse.

“I am,” Sophie whispers back as they spin and spin although she does not feel moor-less but secure and tethered in his arms.

“And what do you see?” They are so close that they are whispering onto one another’s lips.

Sophie opens her mouth just about to say—

“My—” She never finishes the word (My soul), for she is catapulted back to that night on the terrace, (the scene replaying on the screen but hazily to show it is only in Sophie’s mind).

And finally, she realises—Benedict was her mystery artist.

The realisation jerks her out of his arms, the charged moment fracturing.

“Sophie?” Benedict asks. But suddenly it is all too much for her, the weight of realisation, the depth of her feelings threatening to drown her.

“I—I—I must—good night, Mr Bridgerton.” She stutters before running away, out of the room until she finds her bedroom door and locks it behind her. She collapses to the floor, hand to her heart that is beating wildly, her eyes wide, and she whiseprs,

“It is him.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

Duh, duh, duh! End of episode 2.

End of this post...for now.

What do you guys think?

#an offer from an avid reader #an offer from a gentleman #benophie #cute romantic feels #x1000 #well done lads #we're 2/3 through #I hope you enjoyed some of this #look at me trying to find funny GIFS to break up my brain dump #s4 speculation #bridgerton #I promise the next post will be shorter

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