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lady0ctavia · 8 days ago

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As We Ponder Belief

(2p!Prussia x Reader) - Chapter 50

Note: I cannot believe I've been at this for fifty chapters so far! Working on this project has been a lot of fun, and there's still more to come! While I can't say when the story ends, I will say that we are currently at the final arc of the story (I think). And I'm so sorry for being late. I've been having sciatica and writer's block at the same time. But I'm here and posting now.

Thank you so much for your support! Here's to more story-writing!

Prost!🍻

After breakfast was made and had, (y/n) decided to fill her day with busy work. Finishing up cleaning the morning meal, she turned to sweeping and mopping the floors as well as clearing out some clutter here and there. Though, much to her surprise, the house itself was fairly well organized, as everything seemed to rest in its proper place. Similar to the infirmary and Gillen's apothecary back at the fortress. I sort of miss that infirmary.

When she finished cleaning up around the home, she decided she might as well get started on some laundry. Once that was finished, she found herself standing behind the home in the back garden, hanging the clothes up to dry. All around her now hung a forest of bedsheets, dresses, tunics and trousers lightly swaying with the occasional breeze.

Stretching her arms above her head, (y/n) took a deep breath. Regardless of the distant chatter of the townsfolk, the morning was surprisingly peaceful. The summer heat was beginning to weaken, and the brief gusts of wind felt heavenly along her (s/c) skin. So much so that she undid the bun in her hair, allowing the (h/c) locks to breathe in the wind. She shuddered in delight at the sensation, goosebumps forming on her arms.

Savoring the moment, she almost didn't notice the sound of footsteps approaching her from the side. To the right, she saw Alaric walking toward her, stopping just before a sheet that waved in his direction.

"I see you have been busy," He took a step back from the clean, white fabric, hesitant to accidentally dirty anything with his soot-coated apron and gloves.

"You two are hard at work, and Gillen is looking for a job as we speak. I can't let you three have all the fun, now, can I?" She lightly teased. "I also hate the feeling of being stagnant. I get restless."

Alaric hummed. "Much like my wife. She didn't like sitting around either. Even when nine months pregnant with the twins, she insisted on doing all the housework by herself." A knowing smile crept across his features, accompanied by an air of nostalgia.

"How did she manage?" (y/n)'s eyes widened, simultaneously shocked and impressed.

Alaric shrugged. "I learned not to question it after a while. She was sweet and hardworking, but stubborn as all Hell," He smirked with the last comment.

"She sounds like she was an amazing woman," (y/n) commented, charmed by the kindly look on the otherwise stoic man's face. It was strange to see him this way, but nonetheless, it was welcomed.

"She truly was," Alaric echoed.

A few seconds passed as the two of them stood by to take in the current atmosphere. One of a man thinking back on his late wife. If (y/n) wasn't mistaken, she could have sworn she'd seen a hint of sadness wash over him. One that was quickly done away with when he cleared his throat.

"Anyway, I came back here because I needed to talk to you. We have a few visitors that stopped by, and I would like for you to meet them," Alaric regained his more serious composure, though it was definitely a little more relaxed than earlier.

"Visitors?" (y/n) sounded perplexed. Does he mean...?

"Come with me," Alaric turned on his heel and waved her over.

Curious, (y/n) followed after him. Walking around the house back to the shop, she saw Ludwig standing at the forge with another young boy she didn't recognize. He seemed to be just a few years younger than Ludwig, with bright, reddish-brown hair and shining amber eyes. He spoke excessively with a high-pitched voice, chattering on and on with an unmistakable Italian accent.

Beside the boy were two individuals; a man and a woman, who seemed to be about (y/n)'s age, if not a little older.

The man had dark brown hair and spectacles, as well as a fine-tailored tunic that showed he was clearly well-off. Or at least was doing well enough for himself to afford nice clothing. And while very thin, his limbs were lanky. Almost like sticks. An obvious contrast to the Beilschmidt twins, who were both a little more muscular.

The woman had long, flowing sandy brown hair which sat under a yellow handkerchief around her head. She wore a lovely light green dress that complimented her emerald-green eyes perfectly. Her white apron appeared almost pristine, save for a few little stains of dirt here and there, signaling that, while beautiful, she was no stranger to work. This point was exemplified when (y/n) saw that she appeared a little more muscular in comparison to the man.

If she's the one doing work around the house, then what's the man doing all day?

It took only a moment of her standing there for the visitors to notice (y/n) staring at them, but if they were uncomfortable, they made no sign of it. Especially given the woman's reaction.

"Oh, hello there! You must be Miss (y/n) (l/n)!" She spoke with a thick Hungarian accent.

"Y-Yes, I am," (y/n) awkwardly fumbled with her words.

"Miss (l/n), these two are Roderich and Elizabeta Edelstein, the two I told you about this morning," Alaric rested a hand on (y/n)'s shoulder.

"Pleased to meet you," Roderich greeted with a formal bow and welcoming smile. Much like his family, he too spoke with a Germanic accent.

"And you two as well," (y/n) responded upon getting her bearings, descending into an ungraceful curtsy, trying to mirror the formality of Roderich's greeting.

So, this is Gillen, Gilbert, and Ludwig's cousin the musician. And this woman is Elizabeta. She's beautiful. (y/n) mentally took note of the two in front of her.

"And this little one is our son, Feliciano," Elizabeta reached over and pulled the Italian boy toward her, who gazed up at (y/n) with those wide, amber eyes.

"I see. Nice to meet you. All of you," (y/n) did her best to maintain the appearance of someone who didn't have any preconceived notions of the couple before her. At least she didn't have any of Feliciano. However, she did connect the dots that he must have been adopted, given the differences in accents.

Before she could say anything else, Elizabeta practically dashed forward, taking (y/n)'s hands in hers.

"So, a little bird told me you are marrying into the family, is that correct?" Her smile was so bright and pure. It's no wonder Gilbert fell for her. How could he not?

"Uh, th-that is correct, yes," (y/n) responded, thrown for a loop at the woman's sudden reaction and closeness. An action that only seemed to amuse her husband. Meanwhile, their son returned to chatting away with Ludwig, who seemed mildly disinterested in whatever the subject of conversation happened to be.

"Wonderful! Alaric mentioned you needed an attendant for the wedding. And seeing as I am currently the only woman in this family, I would be more than happy to help," Elizabeta's voice gradually went from excited to calm, a gentleness appearing on her features.

"That would be nice, yes," (y/n) nodded with a grin. She almost reminds me of Adeline, though not as cheeky.

As the two women got acquainted with one another, Alaric waved them away.

"If the two of you want to talk, I suggest doing so in the house. Or perhaps take a walk. We're going to get back to work out here."

"Oh, yes. Of course," (y/n) accepted his request and gestured for Elizabeta to follow her into the garden where she initially hung the laundry to dry.

Once alone in the back garden, (y/n) could hear the men and boys chatting with one another over the sound of clanging metal. Probably discussing wedding preparations. Meanwhile, Elizabeta casually strolled around on the grass.

"So, how has it been? Are you adjusting well?" Elizabeta asked calmly.

"I would say so, yes," (y/n) began to walk beside her, weaving in and out of the lines of clothes and sheets.

"That's good. So, what can you tell me about yourself?"

When she asked this question, (y/n) went into what she had told Alaric that morning. Her hobbies and skills, her family background, everything. However, this time around she had a much better handle on her emotions after having cried her eyes out previously that morning.

"Goodness," Elizabeta stopped in her tracks, sounding completely shocked. "You've been through it." She spoke breathlessly, her face twisted in a mix of concern and fascination.

"That's one way of putting it," (y/n) laughed dryly, stopping as well. "But I'm fine now."

"That's good to hear. I'm glad to hear one of the twins is marrying such a strong woman. Speaking of which..." She trailed off as her tone went from warm to curious. Leaning forward, she looked (y/n) in the eye. "Who's the lucky man?"

"That would be Gillen," (y/n) answered with a flutter of her heart.

"Oh, that's sweet! He's quite the quiet soul, isn't he?" Elizabeta commented, still smiling all the while.

"He is. I was a little shocked when we first got to talking though. He was more talkative than I initially thought," (y/n) mused, reminiscing on the day they formally met and how deadpan and silent he used to be around her.

"He gets like that the more you get to know him. Oh, and if he's back, does this mean that Gilbert has returned as well?" Elizabeta's voice went from calm to sounding hopeful.

"You mean Vati didn't tell you?" (y/n) tilted her head to the side, flummoxed.

"Um, no? Tell me what?" Elizabeta appeared worried.

"I assumed that if Vati told you Gillen was back, he'd say the same about Gilbert. He came here with us."

"He didn't say a word regarding Gilbert," Elizabeta shook her head. "And he left before I could ask him. Though I do understand that they didn't exactly leave on the best of terms. I don't know all the details, however. Just what little bit Roderich told me."

The two had stopped walking. Elizabeta seemed to be experiencing a whole range of emotions. Hopeful, sad, curious, worried. While (y/n) couldn't sense any love in her reactions, she could at the very least see Gilbert was still important to her.

"Elizabeta? May I ask you a question regarding Gilbert?" (y/n) brought her hands together in front of her skirt.

"Uh, I suppose so, yes," Elizabeta looked her way.

I cannot ask her about whether or not she felt love for Gilbert, we only just met. That would be too forward. Regardless, I want so badly to know their history. How should I approach this?

"Gillen told me the two of you were best friends growing up. I was just wondering... What was it like?"

"Are you asking about what it was like growing up with Gilbert, or both of the twins?" Elizabeta raised a brow.

"I suppose both," (y/n) shrugged one shoulder before carefully descending to the grassy floor, patting the spot beside her for Elizabeta to sit.

Letting out a deep breath, Elizabeta took the offered seat beside the bride-to-be.

"Well, let's see here," She began softly with a faraway look in her eyes. "When I was younger, I never felt comfortable wearing dresses or skirts. While I had nothing against developing skills such as cooking, cleaning, and mending, my passions took root in sword-fighting and foot-racing. A little bit of archery as well. And while my mother always scolded these activities, the Beilschmidt twins were always supportive. Supportive in that they didn't care," She gave a half-hearted chuckle.

"They accepted you for who you were," (y/n) acknowledged.

"They did. Gilbert and I spent much of our time doing what I said before. Racing one another around town, practicing archery, exploring the forests... He even would invite me over to test out the swords their father crafted in his forge. Gillen helped with the swords too, of course. And he'd occasionally explore the woods with us, picking plants along the way. But when it came to anything else, he was content to either stay home or follow along as a silent observer. Looking back, I think he was worried about one of us getting hurt." She mused with a tone brimming with nostalgia.

(y/n) hummed. "That sounds like him. Gillen, I mean. And it sounds like you and Gilbert were close."

"We were," Elizabeta's tone wavered as her gaze fell away. "And then he left last minute to join Gillen. Wait a second," She turned to look at (y/n), her brow furrowed as her eyes snapped back up to meet hers. "It was my understanding that the Teutonic Knights refrained from getting married. If that's the case, then how on earth are you and Gillen getting married?"

"That is a fair question. Gillen said that he went for a half-service," (y/n) mentally thanked Gillen for coming up with the lie.

"Half-service? So, would that mean he dedicated himself to serving only a set number of years?"

"Yes?" (y/n) hoped Elizabeta didn't sense the hesitation in her voice. She didn't like lying, but she wasn't about to allow Gillen to potentially be shamed for leaving the Teutonic Order the way he did. The same went for Gilbert.

"Oh, I see," Elizabeta gave a sigh of relief, accepting (y/n)'s fib of an answer. "Lucky you," She smirked teasingly whilst giving her a wink.

(y/n) laughed lightly at her gesture before temporarily averting her gaze. Her thoughts turned back to her fiancé as she idly picked at the grass around her fingers. Even as she and Elizabeta continued their conversation, Gillen weighed heavy on her mind.

I hope everything is going well at the hospital. I wonder how he's doing?

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

I'm sorry that this chapter is a bit of a boring one, but I promise you we'll have some more juicy stuff happening soon. But we gotta establish some stuff first before the wedding. As always, please let me know your thoughts!

#hetalia #aph #aph x reader #hetalia reader insert #hetalia x reader #aph reader insert #hetalia axis powers #2p hetalia #2p prussia #2p!hetalia #2p!prussia #aph 2p prussia x reader #2p!prussia x reader #2p prussia x reader #gillen beilschmidt

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lady0ctavia · 10 days ago

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Love Language Headcanons (Axis, Allies, and Nordics)

Headcanons for what I think the Hetalia character's love languages are.

Italy: Physical Touch

Germany: Acts of Service

Japan: Quality Time

Prussia: Quality Time

Romano: Words of Affirmation

America: Receiving Gifts

England: Quality Time

France: Physical Touch

Russia: Physical Touch

China: Acts of Service

Canada: Words of Affirmation

Denmark: Quality Time

Sweden: Quality Time

Norway: Acts of Service

Finland: Physical Touch

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lady0ctavia · 10 days ago

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How They are When Jealous (2p!Nordics)

Headcanons for how I think the 2p!Hetalia characters would act when they're jealous of someone hitting on their S/O.

2p!Denmark: Markell would honestly have no qualms about punching the guy flirting with you dead in the face. All with that same, deadpan expression with a cigarette dangling out of his mouth. If you get mad and snap at him about it, he'll just stand there for a moment before trying to gently grab your hand and walk you away from the situation. Later at home, he'll be ridiculously clingy, but he won't explain why or admit that he's jealous. Imagine just going about your evening routine with a tall, depressed Viking man clinging onto you the entire time.

2p!Sweden: As I've stated in previous posts, I see Bernard as a yandere. And nowhere else does this show up more than when he's jealous. The second he sees another man flirting with you, something inside of him just snaps. He's quick to grab you by the arms and kiss you as passionately and deeply as he can, leaving you completely breathless. He does so while pretending to not notice the man, only to address him afterward when he asks him what he's talking about with his beloved? After this, the other guy will typically leave. This leaves Bernard to hold you tight in his arms and make a thinly veiled threat as to what he'd do if he were to ever catch you talking to another man again.

2p!Norway: As soon as he sees another man making blush and look all cute, he is immediately by your side. Swinging an arm around your shoulder, he'll ask the guy what the two of you are talking about. All while slipping in comments here and there that you are clearly his, and that he's not about to share you with anybody else. If the guy doesn't back off, he'd probably just set the man on fire. (I'm not even kidding, this is literally where my brain goes with this guy. I've tried rewriting this part multiple times and it always ends with him lighting the other guy on fire).

2p!Finland: Thurston doesn't take kindly to someone impeding on his territory, let alone someone trying to claim what is rightfully his. That being you in this instance. Upon seeing another man flirting with you, Thurston is there in an instant. Putting himself between you and the man, he demands to know who he is and what he intends to do with you. Thurston's initial thoughts always go to worst case scenario. Once the guy is scared off (I headcanon this man as really scare when upset), he's dragging you home. And then he'll pout and give you the silent treatment the rest of the evening.

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lady0ctavia · 11 days ago

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#why am i like this #why #writing #writers on tumblr #writer's block #writers #writer #writeblr #writerscommunity #writers and poets #writer stuff #creative writing #writerscorner #writer's life #fanfic writing #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic

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lady0ctavia · 12 days ago

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Sciatica can kiss my butt. 😫

In case you've been wondering where I've been and why I haven't been updating lately.

#update #health update

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lady0ctavia · 15 days ago

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Throwback to August of this year, where I first started thinking about making a 2pPrussia reader-insert fanfic.

Four and a half months later, I'm now working on chapter 50 😂

Oh, the desire to create a 2p!Prussia x Reader fanfic where he, as a Teutonic Knight, rescues the reader from certain death and she has to stay around the knights until it's safe for her to leave. All while Gillen is struggling between his vow of chastity and his attraction to the reader.

But no seriously let me know if you'd read this.

#aph #hetalia #aph x reader #hetalia reader insert #hetalia x reader #aph 2p!prussia #2p!prussia x reader #2p!prussia

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lady0ctavia · 17 days ago

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As We Ponder Belief

(2p!Prussia x Reader) - Chapter 49

Early the next morning, (y/n) was already preparing for the day. Waking up before sunrise, she donned her dark, moss-green dress. The same one she wore the day she left with Gillen. It was also one of the dresses she used to wear as Gillen's assistant while back at the fortress. Along with the red dress, of course. However, that one was dirty and needed to be washed.

She hummed with nostalgia as she straightened out the simple gown. The fresh smell of herbs somehow managed to cling to the fabric. Content as she breathed in the smell, she brushed out her hair in the mirror before tying it back into a bun. As she did so, she relished in the early, quiet hours.

However, though she remained calm, there was still a sense of anxiety sitting in the pit of (y/n)'s stomach. Yes, she was excited to marry Gillen and embark on this new chapter of her life. But at the same time, she wasn't sure how best to embrace his family. Or more specifically, his father.

She managed to connect a little with Ludwig, or at the very least talk to him. And she already had a friendship with Gilbert. Though at the moment she was frankly quite irritated with him and would very much like it if he'd get over himself and talk to his family.

But it was her future father-in-law that she felt truly stumped on.

The night before while the family sat for dinner, he barely made any conversation with her. Or anyone for that matter. The most he'd do is compliment the potato soup once and list off the next day's itinerary for Ludwig. Other than that, the man appeared as a relatively blank slate. Gillen assured her that it would just take time, but she wasn't sure how long she could hold up like this. She didn't like not knowing how to communicate.

As (y/n) finished with her hair, she gazed out the window. The sky was a dark, hazy blue. The color heralded a rising sun that had yet to show its face.

Alaric seemed so happy when he first saw Gillen yesterday. Thrilled, even. But after that, he's been so hard to read. How do I communicate with someone I barely know how to talk to?

Pondering, she slipped out of the guest bedroom and lightly walked down the hallway, careful to not wake anyone while she went to prepare breakfast. I may not know how to connect with him, but at the very least I can find my place in the home by fulfilling household duties. And meal preparation typically falls to the woman, anyway. She comforted herself with that thought.

Right before she began to descend the stairs, she stopped. Straining her ears, she could've sworn she heard someone moving around down below. Glancing back at the other bedroom, she saw through the open door that Gillen and Ludwig were still asleep. (y/n)'s stomach lurched as the realization dawned on her.

That means it must be Alaric moving around down there. Makes sense. That's where his room is. But what do I say? Do I just go down there and get to work? Maybe if I go back to my room very slowly-

"Are you coming downstairs or not? I can hear the floorboards creaking, you know?"

(y/n) flinched as Alaric's baritone voice called from downstairs. Soft enough to not wake anyone up, but loud enough to be heard. Her heart stopped when she felt he sounded a smidge agitated. Taking a deep breath, she slowly and ungracefully descended the stairway.

Upon reaching the main floor, she was greeted by the dimly lit room. While she could clearly see, it was all dark. To the left sat the fireplace and the doorway that led out to the forge. And to the right sat a door that led to Alaric's room, and the kitchen and dining area. In front of her was a main living area furnished with two chairs and a thick rug on the floorboards. And standing there was Alaric's hulking figure, arms folded over his chest. His blue gaze seemed to cut through the darkness, cold and intimidating. (y/n) felt an involuntary chill run up her spine. Upon seeing the young woman, he spoke.

"Oh, it's just you, Miss (l/n). Apologies, I thought you were one of my sons lazily wandering around," His posture became a little more relaxed as he allowed his arms to hang loosely at his sides.

"Oh, no. You're alright," She clumsily shifted where she stood. "I uh, I came down to make everyone breakfast." She explained, her eyes darting between him and the kitchen.

"That would be very much appreciated. Dankeschön, young miss," He nodded curtly, truly grateful for the offer, though clearly a little on the awkward side.

Nervously, (y/n) made her way to the kitchen, painfully aware of Alaric's eyes on her. I'm starting to think that Gilbert is the only social and outgoing member of his family. (y/n) thought to herself. Ludwig acts like Gillen did when we first met, and Alaric seems to be an even more intense version of that.

When she walked past the kitchen table, Alaric stopped her.

"Wait a moment. Miss (l/n), would you mind sitting with me for a moment?" Alaric lit a candle as he took a seat at the kitchen table. Now sitting in the light, (y/n) could see his outfit. A white short-sleeved shirt, brown pants, and leather shoes. All that was missing from this ensemble was the leather apron of a smith, stained black from years of use.

Wordlessly, (y/n) nodded her head and took the seat adjacent to him. Despite the warmth of the candle now offering light, she felt her blood run cold. Alaric's face remained deadpan and difficult to read. The young woman could feel her discomfort rising by the minute.

"So um, are you usually up this early?" Alaric asked.

"Not always. You?" (y/n) clasped her hands together under the table, hoping she didn't appear nervous.

"Typically, yes. However, in this case, I haven't been to bed all night. Tell me, did you sleep well?" He didn't even yawn.

"I-I'd say so, yes. Th-Thank you," She internally scolded herself for stuttering.

Alaric didn't respond. Instead, he sat there with a pensive expression. As if mulling something over. He leaned with an arm on the table, resting his head in his hand. Almost as if trying to be casual but failing miserably.

"(y/n), would you mind telling me a little bit about yourself?"

(y/n) paused for a moment before answering. "I suppose. What would you like to know?" She anxiously fiddled with her fingers.

"Well, for starters..." He trailed off as he struggled to find the right words to say. Or rather, the right questions. "What do you consider yourself to be good at? What are your talents?"

"My talents?" She thought that was an odd start, but she was too afraid to say anything potentially offensive to the man who was kind enough to allow her and Gillen sanctuary. "I guess you can say I'm good at cooking. I can also do laundry and help maintain a home. As well as prepare simple remedies, though to be fair, it was Gillen who taught me that." She ended that statement with a fond chuckle, earning a hum of approval from Alaric. "And I suppose I am good at reading. I was raised on the Bible growing up, and my father saw fit to teach me how to read God's word."

"That is interesting. Women are not typically taught how to read. Let alone read the word of God," Alaric's interest was piqued. Lifting his head from his hand, he sounded genuinely impressed. Even (y/n) couldn't help but feel a twinge of confidence after seeing his reaction. But that satisfaction began to crumble with his next question. "Tell me, what were your parents like?"

(y/n) froze as the memories of that fateful night came to mind.

The panic in her father's eyes, the ensuing chaos of the raid outside their home, how her father was brutally cut down in front of her, while all she could do was watch. Like a frightened child, she was too scared to move. She could almost hear the screaming from that night. The sounds of villagers being slaughtered one by one as everything burned to the ground. If she closed her eyes, she knew she'd be met with the sight of corpses littering the dirt roads. Of fire slicing through the darkness like several dozen blades, destroying all in their path. It was truly a night of Hell.

Before she knew it, her vision began to blur as hot tears began falling silently down her cheeks. Feeling humiliated, she tried to wipe the tears away, scared of appearing weak before Gillen's father.

No, this cannot be happening! Stop crying, (y/n)! Stop crying! Stop it!

Alaric got up and left as a sob escaped (y/n)'s lips, her heart sinking lower than ever before. I must look so pathetic.

A few moments later, Alaric returned with a blanket. Something (y/n) only noticed when she felt something warm and soft being draped around her shoulders. Lifting her head, she saw Alaric slowly return to his seat. His eyes, once stoic and cold, now seemed sad and empathetic.

"I am so sorry; I should have known better than to ask something like that. Gillen told me everything yesterday. About what happened to your father," Alaric spoke with a gentleness that surprised (y/n). Yes, his voice was soft before, as there were people still sleeping. But there was a tenderness to it now. A kindness similar to what she witnessed between him and Gillen when they reunited. A kindness that was now being directed at her.

Sniffling, (y/n) wiped away the last of her tears. "It's alright. My father was a good man. He loved and took care of me and taught me everything he knew. I never knew my mother, though. She died when I was still very young." (y/n) finished by resting her hands in her lap.

"I see. I'm sorry you didn't know your mother, but I'm glad to hear you had a good father," Alaric sympathized.

"Thank you," (y/n)'s voice was quiet as she felt some tension alleviated.

"And I... I apologize if I seem unapproachable. It's been some time since a woman has lived in this house. And my late wife and I never had any daughters," Alaric shifted a little in his seat, averting his eyes to look at the little flame atop the candle.

(y/n) then found herself smiling. He's trying. He's awkward about it, but he's trying.

"Thank you, but you don't need to apologize," She reassured. "I'm just thankful you're allowing Gillen and me to stay here."

"If anything, I should be thanking you," Alaric turned back to face her, a faint smile of gratitude on his face.

"Thanking me for what?" (y/n) puzzled.

"You brought my sons home. And thanks to you I now know they are both alive. Not to mention you make Gillen happy. What else could a parent want for their children?"

(y/n) blushed from the gratitude and praise. Though appreciative, she wasn't sure how to respond. If anything, she was grateful to have a genuine conversation like this with the man.

Suddenly, a fierce growl reverberated from Alaric Beilschmidt. His smile fell into an awkward expression. Glancing between his face and his stomach, (y/n) laughed.

"I'll get started on breakfast," Amused, she got up to prepare porridge, still keeping the blanket around her shoulders. Looking out the window, she saw that the sun was beginning to rise, the sky becoming lighter. "Oh, and I was wondering something?"

"Hm?"

"What would you like me to call you?" (y/n) turned to him as she grabbed a bag of oats.

Alaric leaned back in his chair, folding his arms with a shrug. "I suppose Alaric is fine. But you may call me Vater, Papa, or even Vati if you wish. Doesn't matter to me. Whatever works for you."

(y/n) nodded, thinking it over for a moment before answering. "Vati it is, then."

Alaric returned that statement with a nod and a grin. Content, (y/n) went back to preparing breakfast.

"Oh, and while I have you here, I suppose we ought to talk about wedding preparations," Alaric mentioned. (y/n) paused.

"Makes sense. To be honest, I don't know too many people here. So, I wouldn't mind something small and simple. Maybe an intimate get-together, with just family and a few close friends?"

Alaric scoffed in amusement. "Gillen said a similar thing. You two are meant for one another."

Almost as if right on cue, Gillen himself came down the stairs while throwing his hair into a messy ponytail. He wore a white shirt with a navy-blue tunic over the top of it, along with a brown belt around his waist. His pants were an even darker shade of brown, including his leather shoes.

"Guten Morgen, mein Sohn," Alaric idly blew out the candle as sunlight began to shine through the windows. "Sie scheinen in Eile zu sein. Warum ist das so?"

"I am hoping to land a job at the local hospital. Their lead doctor should be there first thing in the morning," Gillen fussed with his hair, purposely speaking in a language they all could understand. As he did so, he made it a point to even pull back his bangs, eager to make a good impression.

(y/n) had to admit, Gillen with his hair practically slicked back was beyond attractive, bordering on something more desirable. With his slender neck and jawline exposed, (y/n) had to force herself not to stare. Shaking the thoughts from her head, she spoke up.

"Is this the same hospital you trained in?" She asked while grabbing a small bucket to get water from outside to prepare the meal.

"It is," Gillen admitted.

"Won't they be wondering why you're home?" Alaric raised a brow.

"I'll tell them I wanted to do a half-service," He explained the fib.

"Funny, the Gillen I knew didn't lie," A deep laughter rumbled in Alaric's chest.

"I think I crossed that bridge when I left with (y/n) here," Gillen smiled in her direction. A smile that set her heart aflutter, a warmth spreading in her chest as she walked over to stand beside him and hold his hand.

"Speaking of Miss (l/n) here, we were just talking about wedding preparations," Alaric got up from his seat. "In short, you both want something simple. With this in mind, we could throw together a ceremony and reception in about a week."

(y/n) felt her heart skip a beat, and Gillen tightened his grip on her hand.

"Will that be enough time?" Gillen pondered in shock, as the reality of potentially being married in just seven days dawned on him.

"Why not?" Alaric rested his hands on his hips. "All we need to do is ask a local priest to hold the ceremony. Though to be fair, I cannot promise you a small crowd. Weddings here are usually events in which the whole community is invited. I will do my best to keep you two at a distance from the crowd, but even so. Weddings are special events most everyone wants to attend, regardless of whether they know the couple or not. Not to mention occasions like this bring the community together. Most people would even bring food to help put together the meal."

While uneasy at the prospect of being around so many people she didn't know, (y/n) was nonetheless excited at the prospect of being married in a week. Gillen, for his part, appeared to be lightheaded. A cold, nervous sweat formed on his brow. Despite his joy, there was a sense of anxiety welling up inside him. One that did not go unnoticed by his fiancé and father. While (y/n) used her free hand to gently hold his arm in an effort comfort him, Alaric addressed his son.

"If it makes you feel any better, I will take care of everything I can. Notifying the priest and the community, preparing the ceremony, finding minstrels, everything. We could even ask your cousin Roderich to play for the procession. Though you'd want to let him know you're home first. All you would have to do is ask someone to be your best man. And as for (y/n), she'd need to find an attendant. I'm sure Elizabeta would be happy to help."

(y/n) was immediately intrigued by the possibility of meeting the Beilschmidt sibling's cousin and the woman Gilbert loved. Gillen gulped.

"Thank you, Vater," Gillen sounded just a tad queasy. As his face paled, (y/n) leaned up to place a kiss on his cheek.

"Don't worry about it. After all is said and done, we can just focus on us," She soothed, gazing up at him with all the love in the world.

"N-Not in front of mein Vater," Gillen flustered, to which Alaric didn't react, instead clapping his hands together.

"Well," The patriarch of the household began. "Good conversation, but we are burning daylight. Both of you, as you were," Alaric gestured to the couple, prompting them to get on with their day.

After saying his farewells, Gillen gave (y/n) a tiny peck on the forehead before heading out the front door. All the while (y/n) went back to preparing breakfast.

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Ding dong, do we hear wedding bells in the distance? Sorry for the late chapter, things have been busy! As always, please let me know your thoughts!

Translations:

"Dankeschön." - "Thank you."

"Guten Morgen, mein Sohn." - "Good morning, my son."

"Sie scheinen in Eile zu sein. Warum ist das so?" - "You seem to be in a hurry. Why is that?"

#hetalia #aph #aph x reader #hetalia reader insert #hetalia x reader #aph reader insert #hetalia axis powers #2p hetalia #2p prussia #2p!hetalia #2p!prussia #2p prussia x reader #2p!prussia x reader #gillen beilschmidt

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lady0ctavia · 18 days ago

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ME: "I'll just write this quick little fic to get the idea out of my system."

SPONGEBOB CUTSCENE VOICE: "One hundred thousand words later..."

#fanfic #fancition #fanfic writing #fanfiction writer

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lady0ctavia · 22 days ago

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As We Ponder Belief

(2p!Prussia x Reader) - Chapter 48

Note: Let's be real here. If you've read up until this point, then you already know dang well what's going on. From here on out, this is just going to be used to give you bits and pieces of useful information.

(y/n) had almost fallen asleep before being shocked awake by a light knocking at the door. Lifting herself up into a sitting position, she answered.

"Come in," She yawned, the words coming out breathy and tired. Goodness, I almost took a nap just then.

The door slowly opened to reveal young Ludwig, preoccupied with carrying a few bags. His blond hair was slightly disheveled, though he had no problems carrying whatever he had in his arms.

"I'm sorry. Did I wake you?" He asked, his voice having the same Germanic accent as his father and brothers.

(y/n) shook her head. "Oh no, not at all. Ludwig, was it?"

"Yes miss," He nodded curtly. "And you are Miss (l/n), correct? That's what Vater's calling you." (y/n) couldn't help but smile.

"It is," She chuckled. "But if it's all the same to you, you can call me (y/n)."

Ludwig mumbled in acceptance before awkwardly looking around the room, bags still in his arms.

"Uh, Mi- I mean, (y/n), where would you like your things?" His voice sounded uncomfortable. (y/n) was confused, but upon closer inspection, she saw that the luggage was some of the items she and Gillen had in the back of the cart.

"Oh, just set them on the floor right there," She instructed while getting up and gesturing to the floor by the doorway. "And please, don't trouble yourself. I can bring everything in."

"I-It's really no problem, I-I can take care of it. N-Not to mention Vater asked me to," Ludwig stammered as his future sister-in-law approached him, his eyes darting between her and the bags he set on the floor.

(y/n) smiled sympathetically. I get the feeling he doesn't talk to girls that often. A little bit like Gillen when we first met.

"Thank you, Ludwig. But please, allow me to help," (y/n) pleaded.

Ludwig said nothing in response, only giving a quick nod before returning downstairs. (y/n) went to follow him, watching him with amusement. I take that back. He's even more awkward than Gillen. Not that that's a bad thing.

After going downstairs and out to the front of the house, she peered to her left to see Gillen and his father in mid-conversation. It set her heart aflutter to see Gillen's smiling face, especially considering how cold and distant he was when they first met. She wanted nothing more than to wake up to that smile each and every morning.

Grabbing the bag holding her bedding, (y/n) momentarily tore her eyes away from her fiancé. She glanced between Alaric and Ludwig, the latter of which casually hopped into the back of the cart to grab something. For a second, she was stunned by the similarities between the two. They seemed borderline identical. Both Ludwig and his father had the same blonde hair and blue eyes, the same facial structure, and hair type. Even their expressions seemed to mirror each other. He certainly seems to take after his father. I wonder if this means Gillen and Gilbert take more after their mother.

When Ludwig hopped off the cart with the tent under one arm, she even noticed that, despite him being twelve, she and him were about the same height. Signaling that he was probably going to end up being the tallest in his family. Holding the tent, he gave it a curious look.

"I don't suppose you want this in your room?" He asked.

"Not particularly. I don't plan on using it any time soon," (y/n) replied with a half-hearted shrug. As she spoke, her voice caught Gillen's attention, prompting him to look in her direction.

Gesturing to his father to wait a moment, he speed-walked to Ludwig. Swiftly, he snatched the tent from his younger brother who reacted with indignation.

"What was that about?" The boy scrunched up his nose.

"Just helping out a little. I'll put the tent away," Gillen insisted.

"You could just tell me where to put it," Ludwig said adamantly. Even (y/n) seemed confused, folding her arms and raising a brow at the man.

"Why are you so adamant about putting the tent away yourself?" (y/n) inquired.

"You'll see. Wait, hold on a moment. Why are you helping unload the cart? Vater asked Ludwig to do it," Gillen stated.

"She insisted on helping," Ludwig answered, earning an internal chuckle from Gillen.

"I should've guessed," Gillen lightly shook his head before giving a quick peck on (y/n)'s forehead. After which he went inside, presumably to put the tent away somewhere.

That was strange. (y/n) would've commented out loud on Gillen's odd behavior if it weren't for Ludwig's flustered and dumbfounded expression. The tiny display of affection his older brother showed his bride-to-be put him at a loss for words. His eyes grew wide and his face tomato-red. A reaction that only caused (y/n) to laugh.

Ludwig tried to open his mouth, but no words came out. Instead, he opted to grab another bag and bolt inside, leaving (y/n) in a fit of now-dying giggles.

I guess that was a little too much for him! (y/n) figured to herself as she grabbed the last bag and made her way inside. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to her, Alaric watched on curiously.

The day went by slowly. Ludwig and Gillen found themselves called back outside by their father to work. Meanwhile, (y/n) idly walked around the house, occasionally looking out the window to see them working hard and chatting away. Paying extra attention to Gillen in particular.

While he was clearly happy to talk to his family again, (y/n) could tell he was tired. The journey had been exhausting, and they had only arrived at about noon that day. His movements appeared to be getting a tad sluggish as the day wore on, causing her to worry for his health.

I know his father asked him to work, but surely Gillen can rest just a little. Or perhaps retire early for the night? Either way, I suppose Gillen knows his limits better than I do.

Shaking her head, she cast her worries aside and went straight to the kitchen. Discontent with the idea of not doing anything for the whole evening, she got to work making them dinner. Tying back her (h/l) (h/c) hair, she poked around the cupboards to see what she could find. After discovering a bag of several potatoes, she grabbed a few herbs and spices before using the ingredients to put together a soup. Once the potatoes were diced and she had everything in a pot, she lit up the fireplace where she hung the pot above to cook. After doing so, she decided to remain sitting on the floor by the fireplace.

(y/n) wasn't sure how long she was sitting there before her mind began to wander. The flames flickering and dancing before her eyes reminded her of that night she spent in the chapel with Gillen. The same night where they kissed each other for the first time. And the night where he proposed. Her heart grew full at the thought.

Noticing that the fire was beginning to weaken, she grabbed the poker and used it to stir up the flames once again. Smoke began to burn her eyes, causing them to water. Using her sleeve, she dabbed at the corners of her eyes before setting the poker to the side.

Suddenly, (y/n) felt a hand on her waist. Startled, she gasped and turned to the side to see Gillen kneeling down close beside her.

"Sorry, Engel. I didn't mean to scare you."

(y/n) gave a content sigh of relief as she heard the tender voice of Gillen in her ear. Seeing his face and hearing his voice settled her heart. Happily, she pressed a tiny kiss to his lips.

"No worries," She smiled sweetly. Looking out the window, she saw the darkening sky. "Goodness, I can't believe I've been sitting here that long."

"Neither can I. I thought I told you to rest?" Gillen inquired with a brow raised. He seemed a little amused, though there was a level of concern within that beautiful icy gaze.

"I do what I want," (y/n) tiredly smirked. "Not to mention I didn't want to just sit around and do nothing. Doing nothing is boring. Oh, darling, could you please get me a potholder? I want to check on the soup."

Gillen chuckled lowly. "I was about to say I saw you cooking. You know you didn't have to make us anything."

"I'd say otherwise. You three are working. Why shouldn't I do the same? If anything, I'm more concerned about you," (y/n) lifted a hand to Gillen's face, her palm resting on his scar. "I had moments to doze on the road, but you were the one having to stay awake and keep the horse going. Between the two of us, I think you should be resting."

Gillen shook his head, but before he could respond, Alaric spoke up from across the room. The couple looked to find the family patriarch standing by the doorway with arms crossed over his chest.

"That's because, as I said before, men don't rest if there's work to be done. Women, however, do, as they hold the future inside of them," Alaric spoke bluntly, his voice hard and his words direct. Walking toward them, he kneeled down on the other side of (y/n), opposite to his son. "And I would also like to add that we don't use traditional potholders in this house."

Alaric then pulled off one of his gloves and handed it to (y/n). Confused, she tentatively took the glove and slipped it on, somewhat uneasy under the older man's stoic expression. The glove was so big, that her fingers barely touched the fabric inside. She also noted that not only was this glove three times too big for her hand but that it was made of thick, dark brown leather. The kind of gloves used for handling hot materials. Its exterior was nearly coated in ash and soot from the forge outside.

"Th-Thank you," She mumbled quietly, a little intimidated by the man she had barely interacted with up until now.

(y/n) reached forward to lift the lid off the pot. Using her ungloved hand, she grabbed her wooden cooking spoon and stirred the soup. The meal was boiling now. Using the spoon to poke at one of the potato chunks, she hummed in satisfaction when it was proved to be so soft it practically dissolved when she prodded it. Glad to see the soup was coming along nicely, she set the lid to the side and kept the spoon in her hand.

"I'll let it simmer for a bit now. Should be ready soon," She mumbled, thinking out loud.

"It smells lovely, Engel," Gillen complimented, moving his hand from her waist to rest on her shoulder.

"Indeed, it does. Thank you, Miss (l/n)," Alaric grunted in agreement, his expression never changing.

"What are you three staring at the fire for?"

(y/n), Gillen, and Alaric all turned their heads to see Ludwig coming inside with firewood, the sky behind him dimming tremendously. His face and shirt had splotches of soot. The remains of a long hard day at work. Even his blonde hair appeared dirty and a little greasy. Instinctively, Alaric addressed him as he set the kindling and logs by the fireplace.

"Miss (l/n) was kind enough to make us dinner," Alaric explained. "Now go get cleaned up. You look a mess."

"Ja, Vater," Ludwig droned as he set the wood down and made his way upstairs.

When it was again just the three of them, (y/n) awkwardly glanced over at Alaric. Although she wanted to talk to the man, she felt a lump form in her throat. Which somehow managed to get worse as he wordlessly got up and went toward the kitchen.

"Engel, are you well? You seem uneasy," Gillen pressed the back of his hand to (y/n)'s forehead.

"Hm? Oh, no, I'm fine. It's just..." She trailed off as she turned to glance at Alaric over her shoulder. Gillen followed her gaze. Her voice fell into a quiet whisper. "I don't know what to say to him. Ludwig is fairly sweet, but I haven't a clue on how to talk to your father."

"That's fair," Gillen whispered back. "He's always been standoffish. Mother called him unapproachable when they first met. But he can become a little more talkative when you get to know him. It just takes some time. That, or the right conversation."

(y/n) nodded, taking in the information. "I see. So basically, he's like you when we first met." She stated with a twinge of humor. Gillen gave her an odd look.

"What? No, I-- Was I actually that bad?" Gillen fumbled over his words, to which (y/n) giggled.

"Pretty much," She confirmed, fondly tucking a lock of white hair behind his ear, fingers grazing over the scar. "But between the two of you, you are certainly the most handsome."

"Well, I'd sure hope so!" Gillen laughed. Taking (y/n)'s hand in his, he pressed a kiss to her hand before placing a soft kiss on her lips.

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Sorry for the late chapter, hope you all enjoyed it! As always, please let me know your thoughts!

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lady0ctavia · 26 days ago

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As We Ponder Belief

(2p!Prussia x Reader) - Chapter 47

(y/n) stood in the now-empty house of the Beilschmidt family. Idly, but with trepidation, she slowly walked around the living area, taking note of what she saw. Wooden floors, handwoven rugs, a brick fireplace, and a set of stairs leading upward helped to signify that, while Alaric wasn't exactly rich or wealthy, he was certainly far better off than most of his neighbors. Her head felt light when she realized she'd be living here. For how long, she didn't know. But she couldn't deny that the home was quite nice and lovely. She could only imagine what it must have been like to grow up here. Glancing around, she saw a wooden door that led into a room where she saw a slightly larger-than-usual bed.

That must be the master bedroom for Alaric. It's amazing, but I cannot say I'm surprised. Blacksmiths are important members of a community. Their tools and expertise in their craft can help them create all kinds of useful things. And Alaric seemed eager to get back to work. I wouldn't be surprised if he has a whole list of orders and commissions.

She thought to herself as she wandered around the kitchen and took stock of everything she saw. Not only a table and chairs, but she found multiple cooking pots and pans, including a kettle. She even came across a wash bin under one of the counters. Curious, she picked up one of the pans and observed the structure of it.

"This is superb!" (y/n) mindlessly mumbled her thoughts out loud. Marveling at the craftsmanship, she remembered Gillen telling her at one point that many of the items in their home were crafted by his father. Turning the pan over, she saw a little 'B' inscribed on the bottom. The certification that this was indeed a product of the Beilschmidt forge.

"I'm going to have to cook with this later," She chuckled to herself, still impressed by the craftsmanship. Setting it back down on the counter, gave out a surprisingly loud and extended yawn. "Well, Gillen did say to go ahead upstairs to the guest bedroom."

Feeling herself growing tired, she lifted her skirt as she ascended the wooden staircase. She was intrigued by how she hardly heard a squeak from the floorboards.

Once on the second floor, she found herself standing in a short hallway. The wall before her housed two doors, both closed. I wonder which one's the guest bedroom. Cautiously, she opened the door to the left and took a peek inside. When it became evident nobody was in there, she opened it further and stepped in.

It wasn't the aforementioned guest bedroom but rather appeared to be one for Ludwig. A blue rug lay on the floor, with dressers on the far side of the room across from the... Beds? (y/n) was confused when she spotted two identical beds sitting side by side against the wall, with only a few paces between them.

As she pondered, the realization dawned on her. This must have been Gillen and Gilbert's room growing up. And now it belongs to Ludwig. I wonder if Gillen will be staying in this room until the wedding.

Almost casually, she walked around the room, taking note of the stacks of books she found littered across a desk in front of the window. In the corner, leaning up against the wall, was a sword. (y/n) made an amused noise when she saw the blade, thinking back on how beautiful Gillen appeared when sword fighting. I assume Ludwig practices a bit as well.

After taking in the room, she exited back into the hallway, careful to close the door behind her. With her curiosity now satisfied, she reached for the door on the right, going in confidently as she knew this had to be the guest bedroom.

Going in, she found a room only slightly bigger than the other. This one, however, was a bit more furnished. Closing the door behind her, she slowly strolled around the room. There was a window allowing the light to shine in, with curtains drawn to the sides, offering potential added privacy if one so wished. Beside it sat a rocking chair, with a bible on its seat. The sight made her nostalgic for her late father, her heart aching at the thought of him. Especially since she now realized he wasn't going to be there for the wedding. Her heart sank, but she did her best to push the thoughts away, instead continuing to look around the room.

Against the wall to her right was a dresser as well as a vanity. (y/n) gazed at herself in the mirror and was taken aback by how exhausted she looked. Her eyes appeared heavy, with dark circles and bags below. Even her (s/c) appeared pale.

Just as she decided she ought to get some sleep, she caught sight of the bed in the mirror. Turning around, she saw a bed that was just big enough for two people. The quilted surface appeared warm and inviting. Semi-carelessly, she allowed herself to fall onto the mattress, the quilt slightly fluffing up around her. The pillows felt soft and plush against her face. Sighing contentedly, she would have nearly melted if not for the thoughts that came next.

Her face grew warm when she recalled Alaric's comment moments before about her and Gillen. How after the wedding, they could share it. Turning to lay on her back, (y/n)'s eyes went big as they locked onto the wooden ceiling above her.

That's right. Very soon, Gillen and I will be sharing this bed. Once we are married, all bets are off. Every restriction regarding how we physically express our love to one another will be lifted. And no one, not even God, can say anything about it.

Nervously, (y/n) closed her eyes. As she did so, all she could see was Gillen. Her mind drifted to how she'd help treat his shoulder wound, and how she observed his chest and figure. The scars that lined his body, each of them directing her gaze to somewhere else on his figure. Oh, how she longed to run her fingers across his skin, lovingly tracing each scar with her hands and lips. To feel his body against hers. To feel his lips upon her own, before traveling across her skin. Holding him close as she... As they...

What is the matter with you?! (y/n) lightly smacked her cheeks as her eyes flew open. Up until then, she didn't realize how heavily she was breathing. Taking a second to catch her breath, she attempted to steady her heartbeat as she tried to purge her thoughts.

She was completely shocked with herself. This was all so new for her. Not once has she allowed her thoughts to wander into such salacious territory.

But then again. She thought to herself, simultaneously both excited and nervous. Gillen and I are going to be married soon. Surely, it's not wrong to think of him in this way, right? Right?

Surreal. That was the only word Gillen could think of as he stood in the cradle of his childhood. It was strange enough being back in the family house where he was born, but his father's workshop brought about something else entirely for the man.

Standing under a sunroof, his eyes surveyed the entire area after stepping outside. He observed his father and younger brother getting back to work. Alaric and Ludwig began to discuss something. Though, in Gillen's current haze of nostalgia, the words sounded muffled. He continued to look around.

The workbench. A barrel of coals. The forge itself. The anvil. The blower. The numerous tools he'd been trained to use practically since birth, up till the day he decided to take up medicine. It was all so familiar. Even the choking smell of burning coals gave him a sense of home as he inhaled deeply. The scent reminded him of childhood and the burning of herbs and incense to help clear the air. Something he'd occasionally do for his patients back at the fortress.

Closing his eyes, he could almost hear the voice of Gilbert chatting away excitedly. The way he and his brother would curiously watch their father work when they were small. Observing and analyzing every minute detail of their father's work until the day he got them started on training. When the twins were both five years of age, Alaric Beilschmidt saw fit to get his sons started on the family trade, despite the protests of their mother.

Worrying that her sons would potentially get hurt, which they did from time to time, she'd spend much of her time glancing out the window to keep an eye on them. She wasn't an overbearing mother by any means, but given how most apprenticeships didn't start until about twelve, she was understandably worried.

Gillen recalled seeing her nervous expression from the window as she looked on, anxiously fiddling with whatever she had in her hands. All the while Alaric would carry on, keeping an eye on Gillen and Gilbert as their skills increased over the years. Truly, their father's tutelage was nothing short of amazing, as the boys graduated from making small tools to crafting anything from cooking pots to longswords.

A heaviness entered Gillen's heart as he reminisced. His thoughts primarily began to rest on his mother. I wonder. How would she feel about the life I've led? Would she be proud? Ashamed? Confused? Pleased?

"Gillen!"

Gillen was startled out of his thoughts by his father loudly shouting out his name, the man standing mere inches away from his son who nearly jumped out of his skin. Alaric sighed, his shoulders slumping.

"About time you woke up. I kept calling your name and all you could do was stare off into space," The older man grumbled.

"I... Sorry. My bad," Gillen apologized before looking around, where he noticed an absence. "Wait, where did Ludwig go?"

"I sent him over to carry yours and your fiancé's things inside before taking your horse to a stable. I wanted some time to talk to you. Alone," Alaric stated bluntly as he casually walked over to the forge to continue his work. "The floor's a mess, by the way. Get to sweeping."

Wordlessly, Gillen proceeded to grab the broom leaning up against the house by the door. Sweeping, he stifled a small chuckle, amused by his father's actions. His son comes home after five years, and after a conversation, the son is already put to work. Father, you really haven't changed, have you? However, the fact his father wanted to talk alone sent a small wave of anxiety through him. He remembered that these private conversations between parent and child were seldom ever good.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Gillen asked.

Alaric gave out a snort of laughter. "Where to begin?" He mused as he kept working, pausing only to think as his face returned to his typical stoic disposition. "For starters, why did you really leave the Teutonic Order? With how excited you were before you left, I figured you'd commit yourself to a full service."

Gillen was surprised. "What? Vater, I explained to you earlier. (y/n) prompted me to realign my faith. So, I left the Order when I found it no longer aligned with what I believed."

"Yes, I know, but what I'm curious about is this; what on God's green earth did this young woman say to prompt you, a dedicated knight of Christ, to begin questioning your beliefs to such a degree that you felt the need to leave?"

Gillen stopped sweeping. Averting his gaze and chewing on his bottom lip, he attempted to find the best way to word his answer. His movements became hesitant and uneasy. Sensing his son's unease, Alaric continued.

"I am not saying I disapprove of your choice of partner. Though to be fair I hardly know her in the first place. And I truly am glad to have you back home. You know I never approved of you going so far away in the first place. But I cannot help but wonder just what exactly happened up there?" Alaric's attention was now cemented on his son. Analyzing every movement.

Gillen shifted a little where he stood. "We discussed the Ten Commandments, specifically the one 'thou shalt not kill.' Part of my work there at Malbork Fortress ended up including the killing of pagans, something that (y/n) was greatly disturbed by."

Gillen glanced at his father, who appeared to be surprised by hearing that his son was technically a murderer. Gillen carried on.

"The more I thought about that commandment, the more ashamed I began to feel. And the more I realized that not only was she right, but that perhaps the Order's way of spreading Christianity was inherently wrong. Not to mention I..." Gillen trailed off.

While doing so, his brain replayed the memories of the night he realized he loved (y/n). How his prayer and scripture study lead him to the truth. The way the morning sun shined through the window at dawn, illuminating everything. Making him feel as though he was seeing clearly for the first time. As if a dark mist had been lifted from all around him. It was at that moment he realized just how much he loved her, how much he needed her. How much he longed to be beside her.

Watching his son become lost in his own words and mind, Alaric smiled fondly. The look on Gillen's face pleased him, as he could already tell the answer to his previous question.

"I see," Alaric nodded, keeping that same tiny grin on his face as he proceeded to light a fire within the bed of coals.

Gillen briefly made eye contact with his father, catching the knowing look in his eye. Smiling contentedly, he continued sweeping the floor until he was completely finished. Meanwhile, Alaric was heating up a piece of metal until it became molten.

"I would also like to pick your brain about wedding preparations," Alaric went on, speaking without looking at Gillen as he kept his eyes trained on his work. "Traditionally, the bride and her family are the ones who plan everything. However, given the uh... Absence, of Miss (l/n)'s family, such planning will fall to us."

Gillen sucked in a breath at the mention of his betrothed's lack of living family. "Right, fair."

"I also get the sense that the two of you would like to be married sooner rather than later," Alaric commented.

"That is true," Gillen confirmed. "While I'd prefer a very small and intimate ceremony and reception with close family and friends, I believe it would be best to run this by (y/n). She won't have her father there, and I want this to be special for her."

Alaric nodded in agreement, his expression sad and melancholy. Gazing up at the house toward the direction of the second floor, he couldn't help but feel for his future daughter-in-law.

"Gillen, what else can you tell me about your beloved?"

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Gillen: I am so in love with my future wife💞

(y/n): 🥰❤️😳😱😳❤️‍🔥

I mean, they are getting married soon. As always, please let me know your thoughts!

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