Fic for watson woes prompt 14: “Menage.”
Jul. 15th, 2013 02:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ariadne_chanTitle: “Menage.”
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ariadnechan
Rating: PG.
Fandom: Sherlock BBC
Characters: Violet Holmes, Sherlock Holmes, John Watson. Sherlock Holmes/John Watson.
Summary: It was at France when she give birth to his first son Mycroft, who was a copy of his husband, except in the eyes, those were hers.
Warnings: none really because I didn't set a date for the ending it could be after season 3 or in the future or au.
Word Count: 743
Author's Notes: Prompt of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
watsons_woes JWP #14: La Fête Nationale :
La Fête Nationale: aka Bastille Day. In honor of the holiday, include France or something French. Or if you really wish, write today's entry in French!
Beta: Edited betead but my friend the amazingtrista_zevkia
Violet Holmes wasn’t a regular woman, but not only because she was a Vernet, born at a villa near Paris. She had her own skills and carefully nurtured talents. Her blood told old stories of painters and artists, and she was herself a musician. She had played on several of the most important concert houses of Europe in her adolescence, her instrument of choice being the Cello.
It was on one of her concerts on London with her quartet, that she had met Siger Holmes, who introduced himself as a cultural attaché at the time.
They met repeatedly, in other concerts and all over Europe, because he left the Ministry of culture for Foreign Affairs. Since he was at so many concerts and parties with her, they eventually realized they were dating. They married in 1969 on December 24th, in France on her family’s Villa, surrounded by her family and the entire English embassy.
It was in France when she gave birth to his first son, Mycroft. He was a copy of her husband, except in the eyes; those were hers.
Violet was established on the Holmes estate on London after Siger was called to Internal Affairs. Soon after Mycroft turned three, he learnt piano since he was four, he had beautiful hands a good ear for music.
Several years after this, Sherlock was born. He was a beautiful, wild creature that make Violet think of her Grandmare and her childhood in the vineyards. Her Grandmere was as good reading people’s heart as reading good wine vintages. She knew two months before the harvest what kind of wine would be the best that year, what would be better to keep for time in the barrel, and what will be better sell it soon. She had a fierce temperament and there was no one who could say a word to her, because she was always right; and she really was. Sherlock even was very close to her in appearance if you only compared him with the old pictures of her youth.
Violet decided that Sherlock will need the violin. He needs discipline, and he needs a friend close to his heart; someone to tell him he had a big one under the cold armor and the strong will stubbornness. Someone who provided him with fun, an escape for his intelligence. Both of his sons were Holmes' too, and so much brilliance came with a cost.
The boys grow up and Sherlock became lost. After some years of real worry and sorrow with scarce news provided by Mycroft, Violet finally give her hope when he found his vineyard, his calling. A strange one indeed, but she had modernist painters in her family, so why not a consultive detective? He still needed a compass, but she knew that someday a twin soul would find him.
One day Mycroft told her about a doctor and soldier, a friend of Sherlock who stayed. And she knew that he was the one. She wanted to meet this Doctor Watson, but Sherlock being Sherlock, never brought him home.
She met him at Sherlock’s fake funeral service. He was very handsome a warmhearted boy. She grieved for him. Watson was without a doubt a widow, even though he’d never married Sherlock. Not being able to tell him the truth was crushing her heart. So she went to him, hugged him like a son and thanked him for taking care of her precious boy for her so many times.
Soon after, she decided to go to France so she would not have to keep lying; lying was not too good for her soul. In the estate of her family she found some solace and even received her Sherlock in his pass for Europe, He told him about his doctor and his ill fairing. He needed to come back to his Doctor, both of them were heartbroken by tristesse.
The next time she saw Doctor Watson it was some years later at a very happy occasion. The villa was beautiful and decorated for the occasion. Violet herself had done a lot of work making the most of the reception.
Her little son was getting married or entering a civil union, or whatever it was called. They were a radiant couple, the love shining out of them. Sherlock’s groom looked normal enough but his eyes were as wild as Sherlock. It was amazing how they tempered each other, and now it was acknowledge before the world.
Her country and this house has been the place for many happy moments and she hope for many more.
Author:
ariadnechanRating: PG.
Fandom: Sherlock BBC
Characters: Violet Holmes, Sherlock Holmes, John Watson. Sherlock Holmes/John Watson.
Summary: It was at France when she give birth to his first son Mycroft, who was a copy of his husband, except in the eyes, those were hers.
Warnings: none really because I didn't set a date for the ending it could be after season 3 or in the future or au.
Word Count: 743
Author's Notes: Prompt of
watsons_woes JWP #14: La Fête Nationale :La Fête Nationale: aka Bastille Day. In honor of the holiday, include France or something French. Or if you really wish, write today's entry in French!
Beta: Edited betead but my friend the amazing
trista_zevkiaViolet Holmes wasn’t a regular woman, but not only because she was a Vernet, born at a villa near Paris. She had her own skills and carefully nurtured talents. Her blood told old stories of painters and artists, and she was herself a musician. She had played on several of the most important concert houses of Europe in her adolescence, her instrument of choice being the Cello.
It was on one of her concerts on London with her quartet, that she had met Siger Holmes, who introduced himself as a cultural attaché at the time.
They met repeatedly, in other concerts and all over Europe, because he left the Ministry of culture for Foreign Affairs. Since he was at so many concerts and parties with her, they eventually realized they were dating. They married in 1969 on December 24th, in France on her family’s Villa, surrounded by her family and the entire English embassy.
It was in France when she gave birth to his first son, Mycroft. He was a copy of her husband, except in the eyes; those were hers.
Violet was established on the Holmes estate on London after Siger was called to Internal Affairs. Soon after Mycroft turned three, he learnt piano since he was four, he had beautiful hands a good ear for music.
Several years after this, Sherlock was born. He was a beautiful, wild creature that make Violet think of her Grandmare and her childhood in the vineyards. Her Grandmere was as good reading people’s heart as reading good wine vintages. She knew two months before the harvest what kind of wine would be the best that year, what would be better to keep for time in the barrel, and what will be better sell it soon. She had a fierce temperament and there was no one who could say a word to her, because she was always right; and she really was. Sherlock even was very close to her in appearance if you only compared him with the old pictures of her youth.
Violet decided that Sherlock will need the violin. He needs discipline, and he needs a friend close to his heart; someone to tell him he had a big one under the cold armor and the strong will stubbornness. Someone who provided him with fun, an escape for his intelligence. Both of his sons were Holmes' too, and so much brilliance came with a cost.
The boys grow up and Sherlock became lost. After some years of real worry and sorrow with scarce news provided by Mycroft, Violet finally give her hope when he found his vineyard, his calling. A strange one indeed, but she had modernist painters in her family, so why not a consultive detective? He still needed a compass, but she knew that someday a twin soul would find him.
One day Mycroft told her about a doctor and soldier, a friend of Sherlock who stayed. And she knew that he was the one. She wanted to meet this Doctor Watson, but Sherlock being Sherlock, never brought him home.
She met him at Sherlock’s fake funeral service. He was very handsome a warmhearted boy. She grieved for him. Watson was without a doubt a widow, even though he’d never married Sherlock. Not being able to tell him the truth was crushing her heart. So she went to him, hugged him like a son and thanked him for taking care of her precious boy for her so many times.
Soon after, she decided to go to France so she would not have to keep lying; lying was not too good for her soul. In the estate of her family she found some solace and even received her Sherlock in his pass for Europe, He told him about his doctor and his ill fairing. He needed to come back to his Doctor, both of them were heartbroken by tristesse.
The next time she saw Doctor Watson it was some years later at a very happy occasion. The villa was beautiful and decorated for the occasion. Violet herself had done a lot of work making the most of the reception.
Her little son was getting married or entering a civil union, or whatever it was called. They were a radiant couple, the love shining out of them. Sherlock’s groom looked normal enough but his eyes were as wild as Sherlock. It was amazing how they tempered each other, and now it was acknowledge before the world.
Her country and this house has been the place for many happy moments and she hope for many more.
