justviwriting

[justviwriting]

Hi, just a little update: this blog will be inactive as of now.

I’ve created this side-blog when I wanted to get back into fanfic-writing 2 years ago. And that worked quite well. But I also soon started to post directly to AO3 and became more active on my main blog, so I mostly just used this blog to share links to my stories – which is pretty pointless in the end, because I can also use my main blog for that lol

I still somewhat liked the idea of having a blog solely dedicated to my fanfics, so I kept it alive for a while. But I think it’s time to leave it behind.

I will not delete this blog however. There are a few fics I’ve only posted on here + some nice comments on my stories that I definitely want to keep. But I won’t continue sharing updates to my fics anymore.

You can go follow my main blog @midnightrings if you want. I will still continue sharing my fics over there :)

[justviwriting]

"Invisible String" - Chapter 2: Edwina (AO3)

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Siena/Edwina

Characters: Edwina Sharma, Siena Rosso, Genevieve Delacroix, Kate Sharma

Rating: M

Suddenly, Edwina heard the doors open and close behind her. Surprised, she turned around. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” Edwina just stared at the person who had entered the balcony, speechless for a moment. It was Siena Rosso. “I can leave again…” “Oh, no,” said Edwina immediately. “I was just … I …”

[justviwriting]

Chapters: 1/11 Fandom: Bridgerton (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Siena Rosso/Edwina Sheffield | Edwina Sharma Characters: Edwina Sheffield | Edwina Sharma, Siena Rosso, Genevieve Delacroix, Kate Sheffield | Kate Sharma Additional Tags: some angst but ending on a happy note, Sexual Content, theme of sex work, lesbian!edwina, Infidelity, Minor Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sheffield | Kate Sharma, Past Anthony Bridgerton/Siena Rosso, siedwina Summary:

Edwina is stuck in an unhappy marriage. Siena feels bored in her life but is unable to leave it behind. When both of them meet, they bond over their struggles.

Set seven years after season 2.

[justviwriting]

"La Rosa Rossa" - Chapter 8: The Ball (AO3)

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Anthony/Siena

Characters: Siena Rosso, Anthony Bridgerton, Genevieve Delacroix, Violet Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton, Eloise Bridgerton, Edwina Sharma

Rating: M

Siena gave him a smile. “Don’t worry,” she told him. “She was actually quite … sweet.” Anthony laughed at that. “'Sweet' is not the word I would choose to describe Eloise.” Siena chuckled. “Perhaps not.” Then, she looked down for a moment before she added, “Though it certainly is the word I would use for your betrothed.” Anthony stared at her, the smile now leaving his face. “She is quite sweet,” he stated plainly. “Perhaps a bit too sweet?” Siena asked, looking at him curiously. Anthony narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

[justviwriting]

"La Rosa Rossa" - Chapter 7: A Round of Proposals (AO3)

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Anthony/Siena

Characters: Siena Rosso, Anthony Bridgerton, Genevieve Delacroix, Violet Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton, Eloise Bridgerton, Edwina Sharma

Rating: M

He dearly wished he could have shared one more conversation with Siena – just to say goodbye. Before the attack, he had mostly forgotten about her. Now, she was constantly appearing inside his mind. The hairpins were probably not helping. But he did not wish to erase her – not anymore. They had made amends. And as he was staring at the hairpins, he had the sudden urge to write her a letter – to tell her about everything that had happened; to tell her that he would propose tonight.

[justviwriting]

For Bridgerton Gay Week 2024 (@lgbridgertonqa)

Title: Fairytales Pairing: Siena/Edwina Characters: Edwina Sharma, Siena Rosso Rating: T Words: 1k Summary: Lying next to Siena, Edwina muses about the meaning of fairy tales and happy ever afters.

-> Read on AO3

[justviwriting]

For Bridgerton Gay Week 2024 (@lgbridgertonqa)

Title: Hesitation and Desire Pairing: Violet/Mary Characters: Mary Sharma, Violet Bridgerton Rating: M Words: 2.9k Summary: When Violet and Mary grow closer, Violet feels hesitant and scared – but Mary is there to guide her.

-> Read on AO3

[justviwriting]

For the Bridgerton Gay Week 2024 (@lgbridgertonqa)

Title: Secret Dreams Pairing: Siena/Kate Characters: Siena Rosso, Kate Sharma Rating: T Words: 2.3k Summary: While performing at a ball, a beautiful woman catches Siena’s eye – and for some reason, Siena is mesmerized by her.

-> Read on AO3

[justviwriting]

"La Rosa Rossa" - Chapter 6: The Trap (AO3)

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Anthony/Siena

Characters: Siena Rosso, Anthony Bridgerton, Genevieve Delacroix, Violet Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton, Eloise Bridgerton, Edwina Sharma

Rating: M

Anthony knew that he would have to take the chance now to talk to her about tonight’s performance. However, he needed to be delicate – he did not want them to part with another argument. “I believe you’re still planning to perform tonight,” he said then. Siena looked back up, a knowing smile on her face. “If you’re trying to convince me otherwise, please know that I have already made up my mind.” “It’s still dangerous, Siena,” he told her.

[justviwriting]

"La Rosa Rossa" - Chapter 5: One Last Night (AO3)

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Anthony/Siena

Characters: Siena Rosso, Anthony Bridgerton, Genevieve Delacroix, Violet Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton, Eloise Bridgerton, Edwina Sharma

Rating: M

To his surprise, it was Siena who entered the room. Anthony stared at her as she carefully closed the door, looking down on her feet. While he had hoped to receive a chance to talk to her, Siena’s appearance was so unexpected that he did not know what to say. “How are you?” Siena eventually asked, looking up at him. At that, a smile appeared on his face. “I’m fine. And thank you for saving me that night,” he added. Now, Siena smiled as well. “I believe it is me who has to thank you first. You did not have to look after me – especially not after what I’ve said to you. And yet you still did. So, thank you.”

[justviwriting]

"Paths to Happiness" - Chapter 18: Epilogue (AO3)

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Kate/Anthony

Characters: Kate Sharma, Anthony Bridgerton, Edwina Sharma, Violet Bridgerton, Agatha Danbury, Mary Sharma, Thomas Dorset

Rating: M

“Why is there always a look of surprise on your face whenever I enter?” Kate asked with a smirk. “Well, I would be a fool to ever take you for granted,” he replied and Kate chuckled. She took a short moment to look at him – standing in front of her, a sweet smile on his lips and a familiar look of desire in his eyes. He, too, was staring at her, saying, “You are beautiful.”

[justviwriting]

"Paths to Happiness" - Chapter 17: Happiness (AO3)

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Kate/Anthony

Characters: Kate Sharma, Anthony Bridgerton, Edwina Sharma, Violet Bridgerton, Agatha Danbury, Mary Sharma, Thomas Dorset

Rating: M

Suddenly, Anthony held up a small bouquet of flowers – tulips, who appeared rather damaged and not much alive anymore. “I brought you flowers,” he said then. “Tulips again?” “Yes, I… they didn’t survive the journey,” he stated the obvious. “I didn’t think that through, I guess. But I didn’t want to come by empty handed.” Kate shook her head, still not knowing what he was doing here. “Why are you here?” she asked, more firmly this time, and mildly annoyed.

[justviwriting]

"Paths to Happiness" - Chapter 16: Hope (AO3)

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Kate/Anthony

Characters: Kate Sharma, Anthony Bridgerton, Edwina Sharma, Violet Bridgerton, Agatha Danbury, Mary Sharma, Thomas Dorset

Rating: M

"I just wish to find peace – for Miriam’s sake,” she said, her eyes looking at him with hope and pain. “But I wish to find it with you by my side.” Her last words had been almost a whisper, and surprise appeared on her face – as if she had not planned for those words to leave her mouth. Anthony’s heart made a jump – surprised as well, but also full of joy. “Then do,” he whispered. “Then have me – have me by your side.” She stared at him, the surprise on her face growing. But there was also something else – a familiar look of longing that Anthony had been craving to see once more for an eternity now.

[justviwriting]

'Memories of the Attic'

Fandom: Bridgerton Characters: Kate Sharma, Violet Bridgerton, Anthony Bridgerton, Mrs. Wilson Pairing: Kate/Anthony, past Edmund/Violet Rating: T Words: 4.2k Summary: While searching through the attic at Bridgerton House, Kate discovers a beautiful, long lost painting. A/N: A short story about how that painting of Violet and Edmund from the s3 promo might’ve ended up in the drawing room :)

[you can also read it on AO3]

“Perhaps a few more flowers would be a nice addition,” said Kate with light hesitation in her voice, although she tried to hide it.

She was standing inside the drawing room together with Violet and Mrs Wilson, as they were discussing possible changes to be made to that room – though mostly, it was Violet and Mrs Wilson wondering whether Kate had any interest in making changes to her new home.

Kate felt a bit odd about it. She quite enjoyed her new role as viscountess – taking over such important responsibilities and duties filled her with purpose and pride. And also joy, even if it could be draining at times. But never too draining, and she always had Anthony by her side when she needed a moment of quiet and rest. She had found confidence and comfort within her new role, but when it came to making changes to the Bridgertons’ homes – her homes – she still hesitated a bit.

Violet had already encouraged her back at Aubrey Hall to create a home she would wish to live in. And as they had just arrived in town a week ago, Violet had done the same here, repeatedly reminding Kate that she was viscountess now.

Kate felt grateful for the encouragement and support, and she would very much like to turn this place into her home. Yet she still felt a bit odd at times. She did not wish to change things that Violet or the children had grown too fond of – did not wish to intrude in any way.

Not that anyone had ever made her feel like an intruder. The entire family had welcomed her with open arms and Kate had grown to love them all dearly. But Anthony and her had not even been married for a year yet – everything was still rather new, even when she sometimes felt as if Anthony and her had known each other for an eternity. She might love this family, but she did not yet know them all as well as she wished to.

From what she had learned about Violet, Kate was certain that she was not the kind of women who was looking forward to retiring just yet. Kate did not wish to replace her, neither could she. And Violet was also kind and dutiful – Kate feared that she would not let her know should any of her decisions bother her; that she believed she had to step back, allowing Kate to do as she pleased. But Kate wished to have her by her side, making choices together. And therefore, she was careful, always considering Violet’s approval.

It might be a bit silly, though Kate did not mind it. She had spent so many years taking care of everyone and everything – it was almost relaxing to have someone by her side that she could look to for guidance.

Violet gave her an encouraging smile as she said, “Flowers are always a wonderful idea. I don’t believe that there could ever be enough flowers, and they would certainly make this room appear more homely.”

Kate returned the smile. Flowers were nothing special and she did not have any particular flowers in mind yet, but it was a start.

She took a look around the room then. It was already beautifully decorated and she could not imagine to change anything about it. Although, it still felt like something was missing.

It had been the same back at Aubrey Hall. Everything looked gorgeous and sumptuous, but occasionally it lacked exactly that homely feeling Violet had just mentioned. Kate had not always noticed it, as the family itself made that place feel lively and welcoming. But when she had been on her own, it sometimes felt as if this could have been anyone’s home – it lacked in personality.

Kate still remembered her old home back in India – much smaller, of course, but filled with personal items and gifts and keepsakes. The rooms in her old home might have not always matched that well in colour, but they had looked like someone was actually living within those walls. This room did not, despite its beauty.

It might not be too surprising. Kate had travelled far more in the past year alone than she had in the previous ten or even twenty of her life. If one did not stay at a place for too long, there might not be any reason for attachment of any kind. But Kate still wished for this place to feel more like a proper home.

“Perhaps … we might add some more personal items,” she said then, carefully, not wishing to insult anyone with her words.

Violet raised her brows. “What do you mean?”

“Well …” Kate replied, biting her lip. “This room is beautifully decorated, but … it could belong to anyone. At least at first glance, I could not find anything that told me who was living at this place. Some personal belongings – maybe some Christmas gifts or more recent paintings of the family could present a nice addition.”

Kate was looking back and forth between Violet and Mrs Wilson as they both stared at her curiously, and she was almost afraid that she had said something wrong. But then, a smile appeared on Violet’s lips and she replied saying, “That is a lovely idea. Though I cannot think of anything to add right now. But I believe there might be some nice items stored away in the attic,” she added, turning to Mrs Wilson with a questioning look.

“I’m certain there are, yes,” Mrs Wilson replied.

Violet turned back to Kate with a smile and said, “Perhaps Mrs Wilson might show you to the attic then and you can see if you find something you might like to add.”

Kate gave her a smile and nodded.

She left the room with Mrs Wilson then as they went upstairs towards the attic level, entering a small, dusty room which was barely lit by the sunlight that was trying to creep through the closed curtains.

The room might be small but it had been filled with as much furniture, vases and paintings as it could handle – only leaving a small area of the floor free for them to walk through the miscellaneous collection.

“That’s quite a lot,” Kate muttered, unsure where to start. “Is there a way to get some more light in here?” she asked Mrs Wilson.

“I could open the curtains,” Mrs Wilson replied, stumbling through furniture to reach the small windows. As she opened the curtains, the bright sun immediately illuminated the room, but it barely helped as it only made the amount of dust floating through the air more visible.

Kate sighed, looking around the room. There was a small trunk close to her, catching her attention. Curious what might be in there, she went toward it, knelt down on the dusty floor and opened it.

It was filled with a variety of small items – which, to her surprise, appeared to be children’s toys.

Kate took out a small wooden figure of a soldier on a horse, looking at it closely – the paint was mostly worn off and the poor guy looked like he had been through some stuff.

“How old are these?” Kate asked then, looking back up.

“I do not know, but quite old, I believe,” Mrs Wilson told her. “Some of them had been in this family for decades, given to the next generation of Bridgerton children.”

At her last words, Mrs Wilson gave Kate a meaningful smile and Kate looked back down, knowing very well what she was trying to say with that smile. Everyone was impatiently waiting for Kate to announce that she was expecting. Yet Kate tried to push that thought out of her mind. She would love nothing more than to have a child with Anthony one day, and also for that child to play with this tiny soldier figure. But there was no rush.

She was putting the figure back into the box when suddenly, a small recorder caught her eye. As she picked it up, Mrs Wilson said, “That belonged to Lord Bridgerton.”

Kate stared up at her, surprised. “Truly?”

She could not imagine Anthony playing the recorder, or any kind of musical instrument for that matter. She looked back at the recorder in her hand and at the bottom, she noticed two letters carved into it: A.B.

“Yes,” said Mrs Wilson, clear amusement in her voice. “If I remember correctly, his father had been forced to hide it away here, as his then six-year-old son would not stop running around the house, playing on his little recorder day and night.”

“Are you serious?” Kate stared up at her, a wide smile on her face – both, bewildered and insanely amused at the thought.

Mrs Wilson chuckled. “I was only a housemaid back then, but I still remember how he had come down to the kitchen to give a performance on his recorder for the entire staff.” A laugh escaped Kate’s lips as she stared at Mrs Wilson in amazement. “And impressively, he had managed to not hit a single right note.”

Kate just laughed at that, shaking her head at the thought. Her eyes went back to the recorder in her hand. First, she considered showing it to Anthony later, retelling Mrs Wilson’s tale to him. But then she changed her mind. His birthday was just around the corner, so perhaps she could give it to him as a present then.

With a smirk, she put the recorder aside before digging through the rest of the trunk. However, it was merely filled with old toys – nothing that could be used to decorate the drawing room with.

Kate stood back up again, brushing the dust off of her skirts before she took a look around the room. Leaning against the wall, she noticed a painting – covered with a blanket to protect it from collecting dust. As a painting might be a better addition to the room than a couple children’s toys, Kate went towards it and pulled down the blanket to reveal the picture underneath.

For a moment, Kate just stared at it, her mouth opened in awe – shocked at the beautiful painting she had just accidentally uncovered.

It was Violet’s face that had immediately caught her attention – looking many years younger, a sweet smile on her lips. Next to her was her husband, as kind as he appeared on all the other paintings Kate had seen of him in the past. It was beautiful, with a colourful landscape in the background, making it look rather lively and free. A small smile appeared on Kate’s face. They were sitting quite close to one another, appearing comfortable and peaceful – and very much in love.

“I have not seen this in ages,” Kate heard Mrs Wilson whisper.

“It’s beautiful,” said Kate, still in awe.

“It truly is.”

Kate turned towards her then, asking, “Then why is it hidden away in here?”

“I believe it was Lord Bridgerton who had ordered for the painting to be stored away,” Mrs Wilson replied, her eyes still on the painting. “Though I do not know the reason.”

Kate looked back at the painting. It was exactly the kind of painting that was missing inside the drawing room. But she could also quite well imagine the reason why Anthony had order for it to be put away. It might have simply been too painful for him. And perhaps, it still was.

She had left the painting in the attic then, but it would not leave her mind throughout the rest of the day.

As Kate was later lying in bed next to Anthony, he was telling her all about that speech he would give in parliament soon. Kate had been rather intrigued by it and had also helped him a lot with it those past days – but tonight, she had trouble following his words as her mind was still with the gorgeous painting, hidden away inside the attic.

“I was talking to your mother earlier,” Kate interrupted him then and he raised his brows at the sudden change of topic, looking at her curiously. “We were discussing potential changes to be made to the drawing room.”

Then, she told him how she had gone to the attic with Mrs Wilson and about the painting she had discovered there. His eyes widened at that and Kate could tell that he knew exactly what painting she was talking about.

“It is absolutely beautiful,” she continued then, “and I thought about adding it to the drawing room. But Mrs Wilson has told me that it had apparently been your decision to store it away in the attic.”

“It was, yes,” Anthony replied, looking away.

“Why?” Kate asked, her voice soft as she was examining him curiously. Judging by the harshness on his face, she knew that her intuition had been right and the painting must have caused him pain in the past.

Anthony turned to face her again and his expression softened as he stared at her for a moment in silence. Then, he sighed, pulling her body closer to his.

“One of the most difficult things after my father’s death had been the many paintings of him at Aubrey Hall – a constant reminder of his absence,” he said, gently brushing through her hair. Kate nodded quietly at that, knowing exactly what he meant. There had not been many paintings of her own father, but still more than enough memories haunting her home back then.

“Sometimes,” Anthony continued, “I almost wished I could’ve simply burned them all. It had been unbearable to look at them. But of course, I’ve never touched them – I did not wish to erase him. But it had not just been me who had suffered from it.” He sighed again as Kate listened carefully, wondering where he was going with this. “It remained the same when we travelled to town for the first time after his death – perhaps it was even worse. There were new paintings, hung up in his remembrance. And no matter how much it might’ve pained me, I had known that I could’ve not said anything against it – no one would have understood. So I spent the evening working inside the study, with his new painting staring down on me. Yet I kept working … because I did not dare to sleep. I did not know whether I could bear to spend the night inside the master’s bedroom.” Another sigh left his lips. “I chose to return to my bachelor’s place instead. But on my way outside, I suddenly froze – as I heard a heart-wrenching cry coming from the drawing room. I ran there, terrified something horrible had happened.”

Anthony was staring into the distance now as tears began to well up in his eyes. Gently, Kate put her hand on his chest, softly caressing his skin with her fingers as she hoped it might bring him some comfort.

He took a deep breath before he said, “It was my mother – sitting on the floor, leaning against the table as she cried in agony, staring up at the painting above the fireplace – that painting. She cried and cried, her body trembling, and I … I just stood there – horrified and unable to move.”

He took another deep breath as his eyes found hers again – they were filled with tears and pain, and Kate’s heart grew heavy at the sight. “I didn’t do anything,” he said then, his voice breaking. “I could not bring myself to comfort her … I just could not bear it. I was a coward.”

As the tears began to fall, Kate raised her hand to softly brush them aside. “You are not a coward, Anthony,” she said in a soft whisper, although she could hear her own voice shaking. “There was too much pain for both of you to bear. It was no one’s fault.”

He tried to force himself to a smile then. “I ran away,” he continued plainly. “I went to the servants’ quarters to find her maid, telling her to look after my mother and then … then I just left.” He sighed, but the tears had dried. “I could not sleep, however. Early the next morning, I returned. I ordered for the painting to be removed. I know that my mother must have noticed, but she never said a word about it.”

Kate gave him a small smile. “Perhaps she has also believed for it to have been the right decision.”

“Perhaps,” Anthony replied, returning a more genuine smile. “I’ve not thought about the painting since then. But … if you wish to hang it back in its original place, I believe that to be a nice idea.”

“Not if it causes any pain,” Kate said immediately, carefully brushing along his cheek with her fingertips. “If you’re not ready-“

“No,” he interrupted her, shaking his head. “The painting might have caused pain in the past, but I have learned that ignoring the pain does not help erase it. Pain might even be necessary at times – necessary to move forward. And mother might wish to see it again as well, and everyone else deserves to see it too. Because it truly is beautiful.”

Kate gave him a smile as she nodded. She pushed herself up then, kissing him gently as he wrapped his arms around her. The painting was wonderful and she was glad that they could add it to the drawing room. Perhaps there was a painful memory attached to it, but even painful memories could be beautiful, if the wound had been given enough time to heal.

//

Violet had just returned inside after a short walk when she heard Anthony and Kate’s voices coming from the drawing room.

A small smile appeared on her lips. They had seemingly been enjoying their time in town so far. Violet had wondered whether the draining routine of town might weight down on their marriage – whether Anthony might return to hold habits of working through the night, or whether Kate might grow tired of his absence. Of course, they had only been in town for a week. But those few days had been quite pleasing to witness.

She still remembered how Edmund had often left early in the morning, gone for the entire day; how he had spent the evenings and nights inside his study. And Violet had chosen to join him – to support him in his work, and to comfort him when he needed it; and he, too, had done the same for her.

And it seemed like Anthony and Kate had chosen a similar path – a path of support and care. And it made her feel grateful. She might not be able to predict where their marriage was headed, but this surely was a good start for them to hopefully build a happy, lasting relationship.

Kate was also doing quite well within her role as viscountess. While Violet had always hoped for Anthony to marry someone he loved, she had also very much hoped for a wife that would be able to fulfil all her duties – neither someone too scared to make decisions of her own, nor someone taking over this place in pure selfishness.

Thankfully, Kate seemed to be rather well-balanced. She was strong-minded and took on her responsibilities with confidence and expertise. But she also clearly wanted to be a part of this family. Although Kate appeared rather confident, Violet had noticed the hidden nervousness whenever she bit her lip, looking away for a short second, uncertainty on her face. But Violet did not consider this a fault, but rather a virtue. Humbleness and self-reflectiveness were great qualities for any person, but especially for a viscountess.

She entered the drawing room then. They were both standing in front of the fireplace as she approached them with a smile. But before she could say anything, she suddenly halted in her steps – staring at the painting above the fireplace as shock made her heart stop for a second.

It seemed as if someone had pulled her from reality and thrown her into a different time – a long lost time, way too many years ago. Vertigo clouded her mind as a feeling of melancholia grabbed her heart.

“Where did this come from?” she heard herself ask.

Violet’s eyes were still fixated on the painting, but she noticed Anthony and Kate turning around to face her. As her feet slowly took her forward, she heard Kate say, “I found it in the attic yesterday and I believed it might be a beautiful addition to the room.”

Violet halted in front of the empty fireplace, still staring up at the painting, unable to look away.

“But if you wish for it to be removed again, I can do so immediately.”

Now, Violet’s eyes left the painting as she stared at Kate instead, noticing the unexpected dread in her voice. At that moment, Violet realised that she probably looked horrified. And she did feel shocked and confused – but there was also a weird warmth filling her heart. She did not wish for Kate to believe that she had made a terrible mistake.

Therefore, Violet gave her a smile and softly brushed across Kate’s arm for a second as she said, “Oh no, please don’t. I was simply surprised. I have not seen this in so long…”

Her eyes went back to the painting again as Kate said, “It is very beautiful.”

“Yes, it is,” Violet breathed. “I almost forgot about it.”

“That might’ve been my fault,” said Anthony suddenly and Violet turned towards him, surprised at his words. There was an almost apologetic expression on his face as he added, “I was the one who ordered for it to be stored away. I saw you one night and…“

He trailed off then, looking down on his feet. “I know,” Violet told him softly. “I know, Anthony.”

Anthony looked back up, staring at her surprised, but Violet simply gave him a small smile. Her maid had told her everything back then – how Anthony had seen her break down in the drawing room as a result of the painting, and how he had asked her maid to guide her to her bedroom before removing the painting the next morning.

“It is fine,” she told him gently. “It might have been for the better. I would have never had the courage to do it myself. But now, I am happy that it’s back in its place.”

It was the truth. When her maid had first told her how the painting had been removed upon Anthony’s orders, rage had filled her heart – fearing Anthony had been trying to erase Edmund’s memory. But then she had learned about his reasons and embarrassment had taken over instead. Years later, she had looked back at that time with regret and guilt. But now, she felt peace.

Anthony gave her a smile as Violet’s eyes returned to the painting. Her mind still felt rather hazy and she struggled to think of any more words to say. A moment of silence followed, until Anthony cleared his throat. “Well, perhaps we should leave you alone for a moment.”

Violet just nodded at that, her eyes glued to the old painting as Anthony and Kate quietly left the drawing room, leaving her alone with memories rushing back into her mind.

The day of the painting felt like an eternity ago. Violet almost felt ashamed that she could not remember the exact year anymore. Had it been twenty years already? Possibly.

But while she could not remember the year, she could still picture that day quite clearly – remembering how she was sitting next to Edmund as a soft breeze blew through her hair. She could still smell the damp grass and could feel Edmund’s breath near her ear as he had leaned closer, whispering something hilarious to her, purposely trying to make her laugh as the painter reminded them to remain as still as possible.

They had laughed a lot that day – every reminder to keep still had only resulted in another wave of hysterical laughter from both of them. And it was still visible on their lips and within their eyes – the happiness of a different time filling the empty room of the present.

Her gaze wandered down to his hand next to her. She remembered the painter telling Edmund that – while closeness might make for a good picture – he should perhaps reconsider to not let his hand rest on her thigh. Of course, Edmund had obliged. But his other hand had then secretly moved behind her back, gently stroking along it.

Violet closed her eyes as she imagined his soft fingers brushing along her back. A shiver rushed through her and she opened them again, staring back at the painting.

It was only a memory. The day had passed and would never return. And perhaps that thought still pained her. But after so many years, it was not merely pain she felt inside her heart – there was also fondness and nostalgia and love.

Violet realised that a tear was running down her face. But it did not matter, because there was also a wide smile on it. She felt glad that the painting was back. Because all her children, and grandchildren, deserved to see it. Because all the world deserved to see the love they had once shared.

[justviwriting]

'I Can See You'

Fandom: Bridgerton Characters: Edwina Sharma, Siena Rosso Pairing: Edwina/Siena Rating: T Words: 2.3k Summary: Edwina tries to distract herself from the ton’s gossip by attending the opera – where she is enthralled by the young soprano on stage. A/N: I’m currently working on a Siena/Edwina multi-chapter fic, which was a super random idea but I ended up falling on love with these two. And when I recently listened to Taylor’s ‘I Can See You’, I immediately thought of them – so here’s a little oneshot about them based on the song :)

[you can also read it on AO3]

The theatre was filled with a lively crowd as Edwina was sitting inside her box, hoping that the opera on stage might grant her some peace – just for a few hours at least. She loved operas, and she also loved any form of social gathering – although, this evening, she was quite glad that she sat far away from the rest of the ton as most people had their head turned towards the stage. Not everyone, though. Some people were talking and laughing, and occasionally, Edwina could feel their eyes on her. Of course they were still talking about her – talking about the failed wedding, Kate’s marriage and what Edwina’s future prospects might look like.

She should count herself lucky that most of that talk was still in her favour – most, not all. And she felt happy for her sister. But it also exhausted her. The rumours were vast – people wondering whether the cancelled wedding had truly been a mutual decision; wondering whether the Viscount might have compromised Kate; and also wondering whether there was something inherently wrong with Edwina that might have pushed Lord Bridgerton away from her. And they were also wondering whether she would still find a husband this season. Edwina dearly wished she knew the answer to that.

She had tried very hard – hoping that she might still find a charming gentleman for herself this season. But every time she went to bed – after spending a joyful night, talking and dancing – there were doubts clouding her mind. Constantly, she questioned each man’s sincerity – as well as her own fondness, wondering whether she was just fooling herself again. And she felt tired of it all. She needed some rest – and some fun.

Sadly, the opera had not yet managed to uplift her mood, although it was a quite beautiful piece. But in the end, it was just another tragic love story – two secret lovers whose affair ends in death.

Edwina used to love those stories. They might be sad, but there was also something weirdly romantic about the inevitable doom – about two people risking it all for one another, despite being aware of the consequences.

But she was tired of seeing and hearing about all those great love stories. She just wanted to find herself in one. Yet somehow, fate had not been on her side. And now … now she feared that she might never find it; that she was doomed to a life without love.

Edwina tried to push those miserable thoughts out of her mind. She did not wish to become dismal or cynic. She still wanted to fall in love – and she would always feel happy to witness everyone else finding that love for themselves. But with each passing day, her heart grew heavier and the fear remained, no matter how much she tried to fight against it.

But she did not need to drown in those thoughts tonight – they already occupied her mind more than enough. Edwina focused back on the opera then, hoping that the soothing music might calm her mind. The story was still sweet – and the aria was mesmerizing. A young lady dreaming about the man of her desires, wishing for a secret affair between them.

The singer of stage was flawless, with pure grace and sweetness in her voice. A small smile appeared on Edwina���s face then as she watched the soprano sing her aria. She did not appear to be that much older than Edwina – just a young woman, perhaps somewhere in her twenties. For a short moment, Edwina wondered if the singer also had to deal with the same trouble that was keeping her up at night.

Of course, she knew what people were saying about opera singers. But Edwina had always admired them – and sometimes perhaps even felt sad for them. Sad that women so beautiful and talented were doomed to live such dark lives. Yet she had always been quite interested in learning about those lives – reading everything she could find about the most famed opera singers, intrigued by the scandal and drama.

Did the singer of stage lead such a life as well? The ones Edwina used to read about were mostly already grown, mature women. But this singer looked fairly young and almost sweet. Although, perhaps that was only due to the costume she was wearing – a pale blue gown, the colour of the sky on a beautiful summer day. There were ribbons tying parts of her curls together, making her look almost girlish. However, there was a lot of confidence on her face and within her performance – confidence and pride. Edwina doubted that she was innocent, even if she looked like it. But somehow, that thought made her feel more intrigued by her.

Her gaze wandered to the small table next to her seat then. The programme of tonight’s performance was still lying on it. Edwina took it, searching for the singer’s name among the list of performers – Siena Rosso.

It was a beautiful name – almost too beautiful. Edwina wondered whether it was her real name. She knew that many singers created fake names for themselves, so they would be more recognizable. She did hope it was her real name, however. It almost sounded like it came straight out of a fairy tale.

She looked back at the stage then, watching Siena Rosso sing.

I’ve been watching you for ages

And I spent my time trying not to feel it

Somehow, the thought of that sounded quite beautiful. Edwina had never tried not to feel anything in regards to Lord Bridgerton – if anything, she might have sometimes forced herself to feel certain things that were not truly there. But the thought of a love so strong that you tried your best to not fall in love – tried everything, because you know it would be foolish and you would be lost beyond return – and then still giving in, knowing there was no escape … that was what Edwina wished to feel – longed to feel.

They keep watchful eyes on us

So it is best that we move fast and keep quiet

Or perhaps it was not so beautiful after all. Secrecy might be exciting, but would surely become rather tiring after a while. And there were only so many reasons as to why something had to be held a secret – mostly, because it was forlorn either way.

Siena Rosso probably knew that quite well. She was most likely someone’s mistress, as they all were – someone’s secret lover; a person she could not marry and had to meet with in the darkest hours of the night. And should Edwina ever wish to talk to her, then she could also only do so in secret – the rumours surrounding her now were already bad enough.

Not that she ever wished to talk to her. Siena Rosso was a stranger. Less than a minute ago, Edwina had not even known her name. And yet … there was something almost alluring about her, and it drew her in more the longer she was watching her.

There was so much elegance as she was standing on stage – a voice that was both, angelic and unyielding. The colour of the dress built a beautiful contrast to her gorgeous hair, and it was cut in a way that only women on stage would ever wear it – quite tightly fitted around her upper body, her shoulders bare, revealing quite a lot of the soft skin that was glistening in the stage lighting. Her green eyes were shining with excitement and Edwina wondered what thoughts were lying behind them. She almost wished that she were closer to the stage, so she could see her eyes better – there was something quite beautiful, almost hypnotizing about them.

But what would you do, if I went to touch you now?

Siena Rosso was looking in a completely different direction, yet for some reason, her words pierced through Edwina’s mind as if that question had been directed at her. And she wondered … what would she do – if Siena Rosso left the stage right now, walking up to her and taking her hand? Edwina shook her head. That was a silly thought. It would never ever happen. Even if it did, Edwina would do nothing more than to give her a polite smile. And Edwina was wearing gloves either way. It was not like she would feel her touch. Though, perhaps she would still feel the warmth of her hand…

What would you do, if they never found us out?

Of course, Edwina could never allow herself to talk to Siena Rosso – nor allow herself to hold her hand. But what if she ensured that no one saw them together? Perhaps, after her performance … asking some of the theatre workers where her dressing room was, just so she could tell her what a wonderful voice she had and perhaps talk to her for a moment – just a short second.

What would you do, if we never made a sound?

Edwina knew that her thoughts were completely unreasonable. She could never form a friendship with her. The rumours following her were already exhausting enough. Even if they met in the darkness, it would still be a secret doomed to be uncovered. And there was no reason why Edwina should even wish for a friendship with her. She did not know her.

And yet … there was a small part inside of her that would like to know her.

She could not explain why. Perhaps, because Siena Rosso appeared to be both, sweet and confident. Perhaps, because her voice and appearance soothed her in some strange way.

Edwina closed her eyes then, as she felt that Siena Rosso’s appearance was distracting her. She tried to listen to the music, loosing herself within the story, as she loved to do.

I could see you in your suit and your necktie

Pass me a note saying, ‘Meet me tonight’

Edwina tried to imagine the story between two faceless lovers, and yet Siena Rosso was still on her mind. Instead of a strange man in a suit, it was her who appeared – wearing a beautiful emerald green gown that let her eyes shine even more.

She was standing at the end of a deserted corridor, giving Edwina a sweet smile. Some part inside Edwina’s mind told her to open her eyes again, but she could not. Instead, she pictured herself walking towards Siena Rosso until they were merely a few feet apart. She could see Siena raise her hands, softly brushing along Edwina’s bare arms as she sang to her, a sweet melody.

A shiver ran through Edwina’s body as she imagined Siena gently pushing her back against the wall until her warm body was pressed against hers. Now, she could see her eyes quite clearly – could see them shine with joy and yearning. A wave of desire washed through Edwina as she suddenly imagined how her own hand reached out, pushing into Siena’s gorgeous hair as she pulled her closer, kissing her. She could feel her soft lips and warm breath – until suddenly, Siena broke the kiss, taking a few steps back. She let the shawl she was wearing fall to the floor before slowly, she began to loosen the laces of her dress…

Abruptly, Edwina’s eyes flung open – shocked and embarrassed at her thoughts. She looked around, terrified and confused. But it did not seem as if anyone had noticed how she had just been lost in a fantasy – a weird, yet oddly calming fantasy.

Her eyes wandered back to the stage then. Siena Rosso was still performing her aria – looking exactly like she had done in her dream just a second ago, only wearing a different dress.

Edwina bit her lip, feeling embarrassed at her thoughts. She should not be embarrassed. There was nothing wrong with admiring a beautiful woman. Edwina had always thought that there was something quite … attractive about women. There was a reason why men were fighting wars for them; why some of the greatest paintings were of women’s naked bodies. A woman’s beauty was a spell. There was no fault in imagining to kiss a woman’s sweet lips or in wishing to see the beauty that lay behind her clothes.

But although Edwina had always tried to find reason within her thoughts and feelings, it still made her feel as if they were wrong. Perhaps, because she had never thought of a man the same way – had never met a man she could dream about in such matter.

Edwina continued watching the opera then, trying to calm herself. It did not matter. Siena Rosso would never know about her odd little fantasy, neither would anyone else.

Then, suddenly, Siena’s eyes wandered up to her box. Edwina stared at her, surprised when their eyes locked and she could see that Siena had a smile on her lips – the same smile she had just seen in her dream. Was she smiling at Edwina? It was difficult to tell from the distance. Yet Edwina’s heart began to pound against her chest – so loud that she was certain everyone must hear it despite the music.

“I see you,” Siena Rosso sang, looking at her with a soft smile. Edwina felt the heat rush into her face and at that, she looked down on her lap, unable to hold the stare. She took a deep breath, telling herself that it was foolish to have such a reaction at a simple stare – foolish to believe that Siena Rosso had purposefully looked into her direction. She could have never known what Edwina had seen inside her own head. And if she knew, she would surely be repulsed by it. Or maybe … maybe not.

Edwina felt too flustered to look back at the stage, but she could not prevent a small smile from appearing on her lips. Perhaps, Siena Rosso had noticed Edwina’s stare throughout the night. And now, Edwina knew that she saw her too.

[justviwriting]

"To Be Loved" - Chapter 6: Violet (AO3)

Fandom: Bridgerton

Chapter: 6/6

Characters: Violet Bridgerton

Rating: T

Summary: One week before Kate and Anthony’s wedding, six women are reminiscing about their past and future. A oneshot collection about my favorite Bridgerton women to celebrate International Women’s Day

Her eyes then wandered to the painting on the wall. He looked just like he had done on his last day – frozen in time. The painter had thankfully managed to capture Edmund’s warm, loving eyes – the eyes she had fallen in love with. However, those eyes on the wall were not shining – not shining with the joy or the excitement or the desire she missed so dearly. Those eyes were not alive.

[justviwriting]

"To Be Loved" - Chapter 5: Siena (AO3)

Fandom: Bridgerton

Chapter: 5/6

Characters: Siena Rosso

Rating: T

Summary: One week before Kate and Anthony’s wedding, six women are reminiscing about their past and future. A oneshot collection about my favorite Bridgerton women to celebrate International Women’s Day

Just a few minutes ago, she had been on stage wearing a beautiful pastel gown, playing a sweet highborn lady. And everyone in the audience had accepted that fantasy for a moment – had accepted her as a lady and had valued her as a singer. But that fantasy had vanished the moment she had left the stage. Now, all she represented to them was some fallen woman – a notorious courtesan, a whore.