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Self-Indulgent Lydia Fic

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I got bored and started a thing I've wanted to do for ages. Here's Marionette, the first piece in my Self-Indulgent Lydia Fic series. It's short! There will be more.

(I should probably replay 3 to make sure all the details are fresh in my mind, but Lydia's characterization is decidedly off-book for these.)

Because it's short, I'll post the full text here (although Ao3 views/kudos/comments are always appreciated!)





Father says, tilt your head. Father says, curl your lip. Father says, marry Edward.

Father says to do as the ladies do, balancing books atop your head without dropping them, or bending your spine, or deflating your carefully-arranged ringlets. You must learn to walk before you learn to dance, and you must learn the dance as you would learn a lover. The dance is in your feet, in your back, in your neck, in your eyes. To master the dance is to control not from within, but from without, releasing your body like a soft puppet to waltz at the faraway command of your strings.

Lydia turned away from the mirror. Her pale eyelids hung low, lashes veiling her brown eyes. Plain eyes, as he ensured she knew, the plainness of which must be obscured with all of her guile. The tint of her high cheek bloomed false against her pallor in the dimly-lit bedchamber. That beauty, she knew, could only be accessed in the composed light of a lord's hall, or on his balcony below the moon, should the sconces sit arranged in a tasteful manner. There was so much for a young lady of ambition to regulate. He'd told her she was ready, that she was a master, but the roiling in her chest betrayed cognizance that she was not truly the puppeteer.

"Begging your pardon, my lady?"

"What is it?"

"Lord Wallace has arrived for tea, my lady."

"Very well."



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It's certainly interesting, the ideas that I see here, and think I'll see more of in this thread. To redesign Lydia as, I assume, not as bad as she's made out to be. For her to be her father's marionette.

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The puppet of the Rupert family. It's an interesting take on how Lydia truly feels beneath her spoiled brat attitude. The vibe that you incorporate into your story is stunningly frigid. It made me feel as if I was one of the ladies serving Lydia, and that I could sympathise with her.

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I'm glad you decided to do this! (And I laughed when I saw the title, I relate to writing self-indulgent fics haha)

 I think my favorite part was the bit about the brown eyes, maybe partially because I really love brown eyes, but mostly because it was a nice way to establish Lydia's insecurities and a sort of not being sure of herself in a way most people can relate to. And the bit about obscuring them was a nice sort of metaphor for hiding the genuine parts of herself in order to accomplish her goals (or someone else's goals *cough*). Anyway sorry I over-analyze everything, this is great! I'm excited for the rest

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