#love how one of the soldiers is sleeping leant on his horse

[horses-in-art-history]

Jørgen V. Sonne, The Morning After the Battle of Isted 25 July 1850, 1876, Statens Museum for Kunst, open.smk.dk, public domain.

(Picture source for The Morning After the Battle of Isted 25 July 1850)

[bittersweetmelxdy]

You you please write something with period gavin x mc perhaps an arranged marriage where they actually end up falling for each other or something????

I have no idea if this is what you wanted excatly but when I read the request my mind went to this situation. I do love the little world I’ve built around them though, so if anyone wants to request anything for them in this au, I’d be glad to write it. I now this request took a long time, but I really hope you like it, although I’m a bit iffy on the ending. Feedback is welcome :)

Title: the blessings of abroken footPairing: Gavin x MCWords: 2261

The door slammed againstthe wall at such a volume that you heard the paintings in the hallway rattle soviolently you thought they may fall. You flinched dropping your book onto yourlap and looked at the doorway to see your furious husband panting in thedoorway. If you weren’t so terrified of his rage right now, you would admit helooked very attractive right now, the waves of anger rolling off him,even from this short distance setting your nerves aflame.

“So? Would you like toexplain yourself, Wife?” Gavin said in a cold emotionless voice,sneering the last word and causing you to bristle at his attitude.

“How dare you?”

“How dare I! I told you thehorse needed breaking in, it’s wild! That’s why it threw you, I told you towait for me to ride with you!”

“How long am I supposed towait? Oh yes, until there’s no one there, so you won’t feel embarrassed atbeing seen with me, I’m so sorry but I wanted to ride the horse at least once beforeI died.”

“What did you say?” if youweren’t so angry, you would swear he sounded almost concerned? Shocked? Itdidn’t matter you felt like you were going to break, so you wanted him gone.

“It doesn’t matter youwouldn’t care anyway, just get out.”

“I’ve never said-“

“GET OUT!” You threw thebook from your bed at your husband, who surprisingly didn’t dodge the book butlet it hit him in the chest and fall helplessly to the floor.

The silence stretched outbetween the two of you as you watched each other, Gavin made a move to walktowards you, but seeing you turn your head angrily in the opposite direction tohim, he thought better of it and instead sighed and mumbled something thatsounded a lot like “I’ll take my leave of you now”, and he left the room. Assoon as the door closed you grabbed a pillow from your bed and screamed intoit, sobs wracked your body as you felt like your heart was breaking. ‘Pathetic,absolutely pathetic’ your mind screamed at you, you had been married for ayear and yet it still felt like the two of you were standing on two oppositesides of a chasm. A year so being so close to the man you love, locked in anarranged marriage, doomed to a life of hopeless pining for a man who had closedhis heart to you. With these thoughts echoing in your mind, you continued tocry.

Little did you know howwrong you were, Gavin didn’t leave after he closed your door, he instead leanthis forehead against the door and breathed deeply. He had to physicallyrestrain himself from bursting into the room and gathering you into his arms atthe sound of your muffled scream. He turned around leaning his back against thedoor, and slid down to sit of the floor, resting his head back on the heavy oakdoor and closing his eyes. He sat there motionless, listening to you cry, eachsharp intake of breath of yours like a knife to his heart. He felt his own eyesbecome pricked with tears as he changed position, so his head was cradled inhis hands. When Anna (one of the household maids), ran up to him and the othersoldiers in the training ground panting out the sentence “The Mistress… Arrowthrew her…” he felt like he had been plunged into an icy river. It wasn’t justthe fact that that being thrown from a horse was dangerous, but he hadbought that horse for you. You had let out a shriek of delight at the sight ofthe stallion the very first time you saw it, but Arrow had yet to be broken in,he was too aggressive for a rider just yet, and he had hoped that the firsttime you rode that horse he would’ve been right beside you to guide you. But hehad taken too long, and in your restlessness, you had taken the horse outyourself and it had thrown you. He was relieved that your injuries were just abruised hip and side and a sprained ankle, the doctor had told him before heleft to just make sure you didn’t put your weight on your bruised side and youwere on bedrest for the next two weeks. Gavin breathed out a laugh rememberingthe adorable way you had scrunched your nose at the notion of “bed rest” andpouted for the rest of the doctor’s prescription. He had held in his emotionswhile the doctor was in the room, but as soon as he saw the doctor off andwalked back to your room, his anger rose with each step until it exploded inthe interaction you just had.

He didn’t know what to dowith you sometimes, sometimes he wanted to shake you, and other times he wantedto just push you up against the closest wall or door and kiss you senseless. Hewas hopelessly in love with you, had been for years, and sometimes he felt likeyou felt the same way, but he was scared to go further than banter, shy smilesand hands brushing but never touching. Because what if it was all in his head, whatif he loved you so much that he was projecting your reciprocation of hisfeelings onto you, and you were just grinning and bearing being married to anarmy general, as this was all an arranged affair. But that didn’t stop himpining after you, looking back at you when you weren’t looking and thanking theLord that he was blessed enough to be granted the opportunity to stand by yourside as your husband. And he’d fight until his dying breath, to earn your love,even if in the end it was all in vain.

Not hearing your sobsanymore Gavin quietly stood and opened the door silently, using his training hemuffled his footsteps so that he was able to walk up to your bedside withoutwaking you up. Seeing your body curled in a fetal position only served to causehim more pain, your brows were furrowed, quiet whimpers escaped you every nowand again, and tear tracts were visible in the moonlight breaking through yourdrawn curtains. Gavin carefully stroked his hand through your hair, marvelingat how the simple action caused your body to relax but the furrowing of yourbrows remained. He leaned over and placed a kiss of your forehead, whispering aquiet goodnight against your skin, and he left with a smile on his face knowingthat you were now sporting a serene smile on your lips in your sleep.

A few days later, Gavinfound himself standing in your doorway once again panting and angry.

“The Doctor said to ‘stayin bed’ what part of that was so hard to understand.”

“The part where youdecided you could use my incapacity as an excuse to dally with other youngwomen.”

“I’m sorry what?! Whichyoung woman am I supposedly dallying with? Especially since I spend my dayswith you!”

That was true, you didn’tquite understand it, but since your injury had occurred, Gavin spent as muchtime as he could at home. He read to you from various books, and talked to youabout his day, his work and his past. The chasm between the two of you shrank greatly,and anyone looking in from the outside might think the two of you acted like acouple in courtship. You blushed a lot more, your heart swelling every timeyour husband flashed his breath-taking smile at you. He was growing less shy withhis affection, holding your hand tightly on the bedsheets, cradling your facein his heads as he placed kisses on your forehead, temple and cheeks, lookingyou in the eyes as his eyes screamed of his affection for you. And youreciprocated right back, blushing at his affection, laughing at his jokes,leaning into his touch and showing real interest in your husband’s affairs. Bothyou and Gavin would say you felt weightless in your love.

But it all came crashingdown in an instant, a week had gone by and you had been keeping a secret fromyour husband, not the one about being hopelessly in love with him, but you hadbeen practicing in his absence, putting weight on your foot and trying tohobble around your room. During one of these sessions you had wandered to reston the window-seat to catch your breath and had looked down training groundswhere you knew your husband was. And there it was, your husband and Miss Lowein an embrace, surrounded by soldiers, she had her hands on his chest and hehad his arms around her frame. She had looked up at him batting her lashesflirtatiously, and spoke to him leaning on his chest dramatically, and you sawred, even though you couldn’t hear their words due to the distance between thetraining ground and the third-floor window, you could guess at the context.Completely ignoring your pain, you hobbled to your closet and pulled out yourtrunks dragging them into the centre of the room and flinging them open.Furniture crashed to the floor catching the attention of Minor, Gavin’s footman,who upon seeing you throwing your clothes into your trunks tears running downyour face, ran to find your husband. Leading back to the present stand-off.

“Don’t act like you don’tknow what you did! I saw it okay!” you were growing frantic, and your breathwas coming out in hiccups.

“Saw what dearest?” Gavinvoice was like honey as he approached you, he knelt before you gently pryingyour hands off the dress in your hands.

“You and Miss Lowe, I getit you know, she’s pretty and can speak five languages and is training in yoursquad and of course you love her who wouldn’t she’s-“

“She isn’t you.” Gavin cutyou off forcefully.

Gavin pulled you by yourforearms until your noses were a breath apart and you were lost in his warmbrown eyes.

“She’s not sweet, orfunny, or kind. She isn’t clumsy, she doesn’t get lost in telling me stories,she doesn’t sit with me in our bedroom and watch the stars with me, telling meall the legends associated with the constellations. She’s not my wife, andshe’s not the women I’ve been in love with even before we were joined inmatrimony.”

Gavin’s walls camecrumbling down before you, when Minor found him in the armoury and told him youwere packing to leave, he knew it was now or never. Either he told you of hisunrequited feelings or you left, and Gavin surmised he’d rather have you by hisside despite not having your heart than lose you forever. At his confession yougasped, and fresh tears spilled from your eyes, Gavin taking this as rejection,closed his eyes and started to move away from you, but your vice grip on hisforearms caused his eyes to spring back open.

“No! I thought you- Ididn’t know- about your feelings”

“It’s okay, I understandif you still want to leave, it will probably be hard for you to live with a manwho is unrequitedly in love with you.”

“He’s not. He’s notunrequitedly in love with me, I mean his feelings are very much requited.” You finishedsoftly.

For a second the two ofyou just blinked at each other, before Gavin ripped his arms from yours andburied them in your hair knocking you to the floor, stealing your breath in apassionate kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck and he kissed you with somuch love, so much passion that at some point you couldn’t tell whether thesalty tears you tasted were yours or his. Pulling back, Gavin lingered over youhis breath mingled with yours, his hands reverently pulling you up to asitting position surrounded by his presence. His legs caged you in, and one armwrapped around your waist, while the other stroked your hair and face tenderly.

“You love me?” He said softlyas if the moment you now shared would shatter at a greater volume.

“I’ve been in love withyou for years Gavin.” You admitted sniffing as his calloused thumbs wiped awayyour tears.

Gavin let out a softlaugh, “We’ve been wasting all this time, haven’t we?” he looked around yourroom at the chaos of clothes and upturned furniture, “you were really trying toleave weren’t you?”

“I couldn’t watch you fallin love with her Gavin, not when you already have my heart in your hands,”

“That would never happen,you’ve been holding my heart in your tiny hands since childhood.” He declaredfirmly bringing your hand up to his lips and placing a firm kiss upon it. “NowI have an important favour to ask of you.”

“What?”

“Stay, here, with me.”

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

The two of you sharedanother sweet kiss surrounded by chaos, your hearts finally aligned after ayear of dissonance. You were well aware of the issues the two of you still had,the things you both needed to talk about together but you knew that no matterwhat came, you and Gavin would be standing next to each other hand-in-hand.Very much requitedly in love.

[saxonspud]

Outcast - Chapter 14

As Dutch led you back down the corridor, from the bathroom. The noises from the saloon slowly grew louder. You stiffened, and began to slow down.

Dutch stopped, and turned you towards him. His hand gently touched your face.

“You trust me, don’t you?” he asked.

You nodded, “but Dutch is one, they are many,” you mumbled.

Dutch smiled, “Don’t you worry about that,” he smirked, as he carried on guiding you along the corridor towards the saloon.

At the end of the corridor, Dutch opened the door which lead to the saloon. As you walked through the door, you felt his arm wrap around you just that little bit tighter. As before there was a cacophony of voices. Instead of stopping at the bar, like last time, Dutch carried on walking to one of the side booths where Josiah was already seated.

Dutch guided you to the seat, and slid in after you.

“See,” he whispered, his arm still wrapped around your waist, “if anyone wants to get to you, they have to go through me.”

Josiah waved his hand, towards the bar, and a short while later, a waitress brought over three plates of food.

As soon as the plate was placed in front of you, you sniffed at the steak, which was on the plate.

You picked it up with your hands, and started tearing chunks out of it with your teeth.

Josiah frowned, “I don’t suppose she’s ever heard of a knife and fork?” he asked, looking at Dutch.

Dutch chuckled, “I doubt it, she is a native after all. I love her innocence!”

Josiah smirked, “when she tears a steak apart with her teeth, she looks anything but innocent.”

You looked up from your plate across the table at Josiah.

“Josiah not eat?” you asked.

Josiah picked up his knife and fork, “Yes Nizhoni, but with these.”

You shrugged, and carried on using your hands and teeth.

Josiah chuckled, “Where did you find her, Dutch?”

Dutch smiled, and stroked your cheek, “in the mountains, when we ran from Blackwater. Well Bill found her, tried to kill her!”

Josiah rolled his eyes, “figures for Bill.”

You finished the steak, and wiped your mouth with your arm. You leant into Dutch.

“Nizhoni tired,” you mumbled.

Dutch stroked your hair, “we’ll head back soon.”

You closed your eyes, and started to doze.

Josiah glanced at you, then looked at Dutch, “so what exactly happened to her,” he whispered.

Dutch glanced at you, dosing, unaware of the discussion he was having with Josiah.

“She was taken by the soldiers, with her sisters. She escaped, but the soldiers went back to her village, and killed five of the young men in retaliation, so her tribe marked her as an outcast. Branded her,” he hissed.

Josiah shook his head, “is it any wonder they refer to them as savages!”

Dutch narrowed his eyes, “that’s not a description we use, Josiah. Its only used by ignorant people, who’ve never got to know them. Nizhoni is as far removed from a savage, as you could get. She saved John’s life ya know!”

“Sorry Dutch, I didn’t mean… So what happened in Valentine?” Josiah asked, quickly changing the subject.

Dutch sighed, “Molly ratted her out to the sheriff. He treated her like an animal, which is what brought us hear. I hope your doctor friend is right, and her sight loss is only temporary.”

Josiah frowned, “so I’m assuming Molly is...”

“Yes, she’s gone,” Dutch quickly interjected.

“And Nizhoni, is she your next… significant other?”

Dutch smiled, “I can only hope, but that will be her decision. After her recent experiences with white males, I won’t push too hard.”

Josiah nodded, and looked at you, “maybe we should head back, take Andrews advice, and let her rest.”

Dutch nodded. He gently lifted you from the booth. You moaned sleepily, and nuzzled into his shoulder.

Josiah smirked, “I think she may have made her decision already.”

The two men walked out the Parlour house, Dutch carrying you, asleep in his arms.

That was until, he passed you across to Josiah, whilst he mounted The Count.

You stirred, still half asleep, but realised you were no longer with Dutch.

You started to lash out with your good hand, landing a couple of blows to Josiah’s chest.

“No Dutch!” You yelled.

“Nizhoni, its ok,” Dutch called out.

You stopped hitting, and as soon as you did, Josiah passed you back to Dutch.

You frowned, now awake, “Not hold. Only Dutch hold,” you scowled.

Dutch adjusted your position on the front of the saddle, and wrapped an arm around you.

“Its ok, I’ve got you. Josiah wont hurt you, we didn't want to disturb you while you slept,” he soothed.

You leaned into Dutch’s chest, “only Dutch,” you mumbled, closing your eyes.

Josiah rolled his eyes, “point taken, I’ll remember that in future!”

He quickly mounted Gwydion and they headed out of Rhodes, Dutch unable to keep from smiling to himself.

Dutch pushed on a little harder on the return journey to camp. He was keen to get you back so that you could rest. He was also well aware that he should be there, when Arthur, Javier and Charles returned with Sean.

He knew Hosea was there, but it was common knowledge that Hosea didn't really like him. For the life of him, Dutch couldn’t understand why. Yes he was young and impulsive, but he wasn’t a bad kid.

As they headed down the path towards camp, Karen lifted up her hand in acknowledgement. There was no need to shout out, Dutch’s horse was instantly recognisable.

“Is she gonna be ok?” Karen asked, as they rider came level.

Dutch nodded, “time and rest,” he commented.

Karen chuckled quietly, “good luck with that!”

Once Dutch had hitched The Count, he was careful to dismount, before lifting you down. He didn't want a repeat performance, of you lashing out at someone, just because it wasn't him.

You were drowsy, but not asleep. Although Dutch was right in his assumption that you wouldn’t take much rocking. He didn't ask if you wanted to walk, and you didn't protest when he carried you, heading towards his tent.

Dutch looked over his shoulder at Josiah, “You may as well sleep in Nizhoni’s tent tonight.” he suggested.

Josiah nodded and chuckled.

Dutch frowned, “its just till her eyesight returns!” he exclaimed.

Josiah rolled his eyes, “we’ll see!”

Before Dutch even made it back to his tent, he was intercepted by Arthur.

“How is she? Is she gonna be ok? Hosea told me about her eyes!”

Dutch smiled, “she’s gonna be fine, she just needs time and rest. What about you? Did you get Sean back ok?”

Arthur rolled his eyes, “yeah, the little shit. He never shuts up!”

“I’ll go find him in a bit, maybe we can have a party. People have been through a lot, lets kick back a bit.” Dutch suggested.

Arthur looked at Nizhoni, “are you sure? It wont be too much for her?”

Dutch looked down at you, head resting on his chest.

“She’ll be fine,” he replied, “If she can cope with Rhodes Parlour House, and a strange doctor, a camp party will be a breeze. Besides, she’s surrounded by friends here.”

Arthur nodded, “I’ll let you put her to bed then.”

Dutch carried you into his tent, and laid you on the cot.

You opened your eyes, reaching under the shirt you were wearing, you pulled off the undergarments.

“Nizhoni not like,” you mumbled, and threw them on the floor.

Dutch sat on the edge of the cot, chuckling, “but the shirt is ok?” he asked.

You shook your head. You sat up, and started to unbutton it.

“Nizhoni hot.” you complained.

“Wait!” Dutch exclaimed, “You can’t just...lay on my bed naked!”

You frowned, “why? Dutch not like Nizhoni?”

Dutch shook his head, and cupped your cheek in his hand.

“Its not that sweetheart, I like you a lot, its just...”he hesitated, as his thumb stroked your cheek.

You touched the back of his hand, covering it with yours.

“Nizhoni trust Dutch. Dutch good man,” you whispered.

Dutch shook his head, “if only you knew,” he mumbled under his breath.

He sighed, as he removed his hand, “very well, we’ll take the shirt off, but you need to rest and cover yourself with a blanket. I’ll get Susan or one of the girls to wash your clothes!”

Dutch finished unbuttoning the shirt, and slipped it off your shoulders.

You sat on the bed naked, looking at him.

Dutch gazed at you, “You’re not making this easy are you?” He whispered.

You tilted your head, and blinked your big brown doe eyes.

“Nizhoni not understand.”

Dutch chuckled, “of course you don’t, you’re just too innocent,” he mumbled to himself.

“Lay down, and get some rest,” he advised, grabbing a blanket and covering you.

“I’ll be back in a little while,” he leant over swept the hair away from your forehead, followed by a gentle kiss.

“And don’t go anywhere until I get back!” Dutch ordered.

He had visions of you, walking out the tent naked.

Hosea was standing outside his tent, as Dutch left it, closing the flap behind him.

“How is she, is her sight going to be ok?” Hosea asked.

Dutch sighed, “yes, her sight will recover. A few days, maybe a week at most.”

Hosea frowned, “what's the matter then? I thought you’d be pleased.”

Dutch pinched his brow, “of course I’m pleased,” he hesitated, “Hosea, how old do you think she is?”

“Difficult to tell, maybe seventeen, or eighteen,” Hosea chuckled, “maybe you should have thought about that before you whisked her off to your tent!”

Dutch rolled his eyes, “She’s so innocent, and naive. She took her clothes off, Hosea! When I told her not to, she thought I didn't like her, for Christ sake!”

Hosea grinned, stifling a laugh.

“Its not funny, Hosea. She’s a beautiful. I do like her a lot, but I’m not about to take advantage of her innocence like that. Just because I’m the first white man she felt she could trust!”

Hosea put his hand on his friends shoulder.

“Now you listen to me, you’ve always liked the younger pretty women...”

Dutch frowned.

“Let me finish, there's nothing wrong with that, they seem to like you. Yes she’s innocent, but if it wasn't you, it would be someone else, and they’d probably take full advantage of the situation.” Hosea concluded.

Dutch continued to frown, as he glanced around camp, “someone else, like who?”

“Virtually every man here… with the exception of myself, and perhaps Arthur. He would be like you, he wouldn't take advantage either. The others though, Javier, Sean. Micah and Lenny, if they were here. Even the O’Driscoll boy. She’s better off with you Dutch, believe you me!”

Dutch raked his fingers through his hair.

“Maybe, but I don't know how long I’m gonna be able to control myself for, she’s fucking gorgeous!” Dutch concluded.

Hosea smiled, “you’ll do what's right, I know you Dutch Van der Linde. Now give me her dirty clothes, and I’ll give them to one of the girls. They won’t take long to dry, its not like there's a lot of ‘em!”

[skinflowersandwolfteeth-blog]

I’m on fire - Haytham Kenway x Reader

“I told you it was snowing too hard, sir.” Your hands crossed across your chest with undashed favour as you tried not to sound snide in your remark. “But one more warehouse it was.” Heat blossomed across your cheeks in a mix of anger and the warmth of the fire to your right. There were a light shining in his eyes although it didn’t match with his step as he wandered to the desk in the far corner. Nimble hands working to light the lantern on the desk, cursing lightly as he spilt wax on his papers.

“Oh, and I guess the short break was needed too?” Haytham let out a tired sigh, fingers pinching his temples as you watched his hunched form over the desk, no doubt writing an apology letter to William. “And the need to take down more soldiers than necessary. In which I need to inform the others about.” You didn’t pay any mind to his sneer and walked past, your mouth felt dry as you felt something akin to guilt rise in your gut.

“Well, we’re here now.” You said, shifting on your feet uncomfortably, melted snow laced your soles and you were itching to take them off. “ Do you mind?” You asked, slowly fiddling at the lace on the boots, waiting for his word.

“By all means, we’ll be here a while. Might as well dry out.” Haytham turned around fully and eyed you up almost judgingly, “My apologies for knocking you off of the roof.” The corner of his mouth rose diligently, he swallows thickly and presses his lips into a thin line.

“Well, i’m sorry too.” You swallowed a small chuckle.

“For what, dare I ask?”

“You’ll find out.”

“I don’t like games.”

“Well you’re stuck here with me, sir. I would get used to it.” Your hands scratched your elbow - noticing the small scrapes along the outer joint as you exaggeratingly stretched out. “I’m gonna nap.” A smile tugged at your lips as your feet ran more on motor memory than actual effort themselves towards the bed. Every bone in your body were protesting and you suddenly regretted being caught of guard earlier.

“I think i’ve done something to my shoulder, sir.” You mumbled as you flopped down on the mattress heavily, giving in to sensation of drowsiness. “I’m gonna make you pay insurance for that.” A light joke to break the silence.

“Like i’m not paying you enough.”

“You’re not paying me at all.”

A heavy sigh heaved from his throat as he rose to his feet, blank expression as he looked your way. “Let me have a look, it’s the least I can do.” A snort came from the bed as you sat up, eyes curiously eyeing the Templar. You was surprised to find him messily rolling his sleeves up, his jacket and waistcoat hung neatly across the back of the chair. Taking a deep breath you realised this is the most disheveled she’d ever seen him.

“Charles isn’t going to be happy. And Pitcairn anymore so.” You clicked your neck to the side as you mindlessly massaged your left shoulder. “I landed on it funny I think. Or it was when you literally fell on me.” You grinned when his tongue clicked in annoyance. You loved eliciting these small hints of human out of him.

“Not to sound crude, but will you lower your shirt, my dear?”

“At least take me to dinner first.” You laughed half heartedly, fingers untying your cravat slowly. “I didn’t know you knew anything about medical care.” Your tone softened as you looked up, surprised to find his eyes still locked on your face rather than the small peeks of skin of your collarbone.

“I don’t.” His reply was short, and you suddenly felt almost offended he wasn’t taking up this opportunity to ogle you. Eyes darkened as your fingers moved to the buttons of your blouse - a stupidly fit shirt that The Grand Master made you wear to formal meetings. “Not much anyway.”

“Oh how comforting, sir.” You rolled your eyes and continued undressing - taking it slow while you drank up his gaze, his hazy grey eyes watching like always. You then suddenly realised everything about you was made to be hidden from his keen eye. Every breath you took needed to be in place so he doesn’t sense irregularity. It had become a sixth sense to you to keep still and stoic.

“So,” You were getting uncomfortable under his watch as he sat between your legs compliantly, hands pressing against your shoulders firmly. His grip held vigor but wasn’t enough to indicate any real threat. “This room only has one bed.” Any conversation at this point was welcome, your focus going from his steady breathing to the small slivers of his chest available through his half unbuttoned shirt. When did he undo those?

“I’ll take the comforter.” Was all that came out as his right hand roughly pulled at your aching shoulder, a small yelp leaving your throat. “It’s dislocated, how on earth where you still fine riding a horse back here.” It was more a statement than a question, and you didn’t have the energy to reply. The only thing between you were cloth and heat- such intoxication making you feel drunk in his presence. Like you could mold into his very essence of living.

This close you could smell his musk, his entire body smelt like old parchment and lilies. “No it’s okay, you take it - you should rest comfortably-” You were cut short as you yelled out in pain, your shoulder being pushed back into place with a crude ‘pop’ and a shiver that coursed through you body.

“And why should I have the comfort?”

“Because you’re old!” You growled, clearly annoyed at the no forewarning. “Oh lord Jesus of shitting-- ugh, you could have warned me.” You clenched your eyes shut as you muffled a sniffle, eyes daring to water. Absurdities flying from your mouth as Haytham leant back, amused and slightly dumbfounded.

“What a filthy mouth of yours.” His voice lowered as he grabbed your chin, “Did your parents not teach you manners, young lady?” There was a heat in your stomach as his fingers clenched harder into your jaw. There was a husk lurking in his eyes as he let go and stood up. The heat that had surrounded you vanished and you longed for his closeness again.

“Manners don’t mean squat when I can swear,” A sheepish grin stretched on your face as your skin itched for his touch again, a slow burn in your heart. “Say,” You started, but soon found your tone wondering off, eyes darting to anything and everything in the room other than his face.

“What’s troubling you?”

“It’s nothing.” Sudden shame washed over you and you layed back down, turning on your good side.  Lashes fluttered lowly against your burning cheeks in thought, body curling up in a fetal position as the cold suddenly crept up your skin. Goosepimples shot up your exposed arms and prickled your legs.

“We have ran out of wood, I should go and collect some more.”  Breathing sharply though your nose you listened to his footsteps as they neared the end of the bed and stopped, a subtle sigh leaving his lips as you heard his clothes rustling.

“Grand Master?” You didn’t have the courage to look up but jumped as you felt his shoulder cloak pool around your shoulders, the familiar scent lulling you to relax. “Thank you.”

“Sleep well, my dear.”

[shewolfofficial]

Levi x Titan Obsessed! Reader

Warnings: Cursing

Summary: You are obsessed about titans just like Hanji, how will your lover Levi react when your love for titans nearly gets you killed?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You skipped happily along outside to the experimenting area followed by your close friend Hanji. "Oh babies guess whos back~!" you called out to your adorable titan children, turning a corner expecting them to be there you paled. Hanji arrived a few seconds later and shrieked "SAWNEY!" she screeched running over "BEAN!" you added arriving at the decomposing bodies.

// Time Skip \\

You heard Levi and his squad arrived but you didn't care, too pent up in your emotions you didn't care about the large group of soldiers who stared at you and Hanji as you both bawled your eyes out.

Hunched over on the dirty ground you wailed as Hanji stood there screeching out why someone would do this. Feeling a hand on your shoulder you brushed it off continuing to cry and wail like your life depended on it. "Tch Y/N stop crying already" Levi's piercing voice said from behind you, looking up with red puffy eyes and a tear stained face you looked to your lover hopelessly "Th-They're dead! Sweet Sawney and B-Bean!" you cried out to him clinging to his cape. "Y/N calm the fuck down we'll get you and four eyes more titans" Levi tried to sooth, feeling a presence at his back Levi looked over his shoulder to be met with a glossy eyed Hanji who clung to his back like a panda "They're gone Levi! How could someone do this!" she sniffled. Having two titan obsessed females claw and hang from the shirt male irritated him "get the fuck off me" he sneered to the both of you.

Dramatically falling to your knees again you began to cry once again, this time Hanji joining you as she leant on your shoulder. "T-They were so perfect!" you stuttered out in agony, Hanji nodded her head sorrowly.

// Time Skip - Next Expedition \\

"I can't wait to go outside the walls again!" you cheered happily as Levi sat on his horse next to yours watching you silently. "Are you excited Levi!? Hm? Think we can get a beautiful abnormal!? Or maybe a 15 meter class!? Oh how I'd love a 7 meter class right now! Perfect siz-" your rambling was cut off when Levi interrupted "tell me again... Why am I leading the squad to get you a titan?" Levi clicked his tongue as you turned to him "because I'm your girlfriend~! And you love me! Plus my birthday is coming up next week so this can be the present!" you squeal clasping your hands over your chest in excitement, Levi rolls his eyes "I'm only getting you one so make your decision carefully" he warned watching you get more and more excited. "Of course Levi! Maybe a 7 meter class! Nonono a 15 meter? Maybe a 5 or 4 meter class!? So cute I wanna cuddle them!" you continued to ramble about what titans you would want as Levi got lost in thought .

"Levi~!!!" you grinned crazily to the raven haired male who raised a eyebrow to you. You pointed over the horizon where you could see multiple titans wandering around "look at all of them! I wonder if there's a strong one in the group?! Maybe there's an abnormal!?" you smile to yourself before looking to your boyfriend "I've made my decision! I'll have any 7 meter class you give me!" you finish as Levi nods making a mental note to keep an eye out for any 7 or 8 meter class titans.

Spotting a small four meter titan sitting on the ground alone mindlessly made you raise your eyebrow, immediately breaking off from your squad you headed towards the beast. "Y/N what the fuck are you doing!?" Levi yelled out to you following from afar. Hopping off your horse you stood a couple meters away from the sitting titan who now stared down to you.

Spreading your arm out you grinned happily to the beast who gazed at you in silence. "Hello my love! I'm surprised you haven't jumped at me yet! Maybe you're a new titan since you're just sitting here-" you were cut off when the beast suddenly jumped at you, flying away in time you laughed "almost got me there! You're a strange one aren't you? I think I'll call you... George!" you grin once again but the grin didn't last when Levi spun behind the monster slicing it's nape. Your eyes widened as you screeched in terror "NO!!! GEORGE! LEVI HOW DARE YOU! I WANTED TO TAKE GEORGE WITH ME!" you shouted as your temper rose, Levi clicked his tongue in annoyance before suddlenly grabbing you by the collar of your shirt lifting you up to his level, mere inches from his face making you pale "don't ever fucking go off by yourself again! You'll end up killing yourself!" he growled down to you as his grip made you wince from pain, frowning you took his wrist and removed yourself from his hold. "For your information, I was fine! I didn't need any saving Ackerman" you spat jumping back up onto your horse as you glanced back at the titan corpse before galloping away without another word.

Groaning from frustration Levi soon followed as you both joined back up with your squad as an awkward silence fell upon you all, normally your cheery voice would be non-stop talking about titans or trying to spark a conversation to Levi who just grumbled most of the time.

Eventually meeting up with the others the Expedition was over and you all were riding back together, Hanji rode beside you on your left as Levi was at your right. Ever since the incident happened earlier with Levi you barely said a word to anyone. "Y/N what's wrong you're never this quiet, something happen?" Hanji asked looking to you, shaking your head you refused to look at your friend. Hanji looked at the far side of you catching Levi's eye, he sighed clicking his tongue before looking ahead as silence took over.

Soon enough you all arrived at HQ, quickly putting your horse away and disappearing to continue with your little temper tantrum. Hanji watched you from afar with Levi "what's wrong with her?" she looked down to the shorter man who crossed his arms "I killed a titan she wanted, now she's pissed" Levi simple said "Maybe you should go talk to her?" Hanji suggested smiling a little. Levi looked to be in thought for a few seconds before nodding and walking off.

You lay on your bed reading quietly whilst humming a song to yourself not really paying attention to the book you were starting to feel guilty about snapping at Levi for basically protecting you yet he picked you up like you were some shitty cadet so you had a right to be angry. Sighing you sat up and jumped slightly seeing Levi on a chair at your desk quietly watching you. "H-How the fuck did you get in without me noticing?" you asked putting the book away, Levi shrugged "just came to check up on you brat" he said looking around the room. Nodding slightly you laid down facing the wall as you faced your back towards the man. Levi's eyes squinted at your behaviour before he sighed, taking off his jacket and boots he carefully climbed in beside you.

Wrapping his arms around you Levi dug his face into the crook of your neck "sorry for killing the titan earlier.. Didn't know you wanted it that much" he murmed quietly as you stayed still and silent against him. "Did I hurt you?" Levi continued hoping he didn't hurt the one he cared for most, hesitantly nodding you shuffled a little away from him. "Y/N I didn't mean to... I was angry and I wasn't thinking about what I was doing.. Please I wanna see where I hurt you" he purred softly. Turning around to him you pulled down a bit of your collar and showed him a light bruise, not daring to meet his cold gaze. "Fuck.. Princess I'm sorry I didn't mean to I swear" he said noticing how you didnt utter a word "Y/N please you're killing me I didn't mean to" Levi tried again.

Clicking your tongue you sighed "It's fine Levi, I didn't mean to snap at you earlier so we're even now" yawning you cuddle into him "just shut up and cuddle me already I wanna catch some sleep" you giggle, Levi smiles lightly nodding as you fall asleep in his arms.

[xathia-89]

A Vassal’s Love

I had refused to stand by and learn no useful skills whilst I was in this time period. War was a constant threat, and swords were commonplace. I abhorred the violence, but it came to be beneficial to everyone around me as I continued to pester Ieyasu for lessons in medicine. Nobunaga kept referring to me as his lucky charm, and after my first terrifying experience on the back of his horse in battle, if I was going to be coming along to these things, then the very least I could do was something that would keep me off the front line of battle.

The casualties wouldn’t stop, but the stifling silence was the most unnerving part of everything. There was nothing to report and no movements, the guards were uneasy which made me suspicious. The stampede shattered the atmosphere, a group of men all dressed in black from head to toe, and started shouting about ‘finding the girl’ as the horrible realisation came to me that I was the target.

“Run to the front lines, shout and scream and I will come and get you,” his words echoed in my mind as I legged it out of the tent and bolted over to the edge of the camp. I had to go and find someone if I couldn’t find him. The sounds of battle were enough to make me terrified, but it was definitely the lesser evil in this case as one of the enemy managed to grab me as I was meters from a layer of safety.

“Hideyoshi!” I screamed, trying to keep my tears back as I was struggling against the man, trying to break free from his grasp. I had to keep fighting, I couldn’t just accept this, I wouldn’t let this be my destiny. I tried to stomp on his foot but I was lifted clean off the floor before the horse and rider I was with galloped off through forests, ignoring my screams of Hideyoshi’s name.

My eyes were raw from all the crying as I keep pulling at the bonds. I was in a tiny wooden cabin in the middle of the woods somewhere. My feet and hands were bound with rope that was cutting into my skin, but I couldn’t just stop fighting.

“This is Nobunaga’s concubine?” A deep and vaguely familiar voice broke the continuous spell in my actions. “Interesting, a woman that has broken through the barrier of the Devil King,” his smile was as cold as Oda’s. All of the warlords couldn’t afford to stop and grieve their emotions, it would cost them too much, as a way of coping they simply locked them all away and the man in front of me was the same. The scar across his face brought me back to my first night, I had met this man in the forests after scrambling and trying to escape from Nobunaga. Our eyes met, and then he realised the same thing. “Huh,” he snorted and promptly turned about.

“I’m not anyone’s concubine, someone has their information wrong,” I exclaimed. “Please just send me back, I work as a healer that’s all,” I begged.

“It’s heartbreaking to separate lovers,” the monk mocked, his face twisting into a cruel form of delight. “I have sent a note to Nobunaga that you are my captive.”

“Nobunaga won’t come for me, you have it all wrong,” I pleaded if I had any tears left they would have been falling. “Please, I need to help the soldiers.”

“Why did you run from the camp then if we have it wrong?” The scarred man accused, startling me and sending me flat against the wall. “Why else would you even be that close to a battle if you mean nothing to Nobunaga?” He snarled.

My breath hitched in my throat, my fear paralysing me as I began to feel as though this could be my end. I had heard talk from the warlords that there was a blade in Kennyo’s staff, and it was now pressing lightly against my neck. I couldn’t remember him even moving to unsheath it. My heart felt as though it would throw itself out of my body if any more excitement happened, and then the sounds of disturbance began.

A cruel and satisfied smile broke across the monk’s face. He was getting what he wanted, as the door crashed open, and revealed a furious Hideyoshi.

Not exactly who Kennyo had been looking to draw out, but I shook my head at the warlord to tell him I was fine before there was nothing but the clash of blades swiping through the air. One of the vassals broke through part of the wall next to me and grinned at me as he cut my ropes, then flung himself into the path of the monk as Hideyoshi snatched me by the waist, and threw me over his shoulder.

I was too startled to ask what on earth was going on when I spied Masamune having the time of his life gatecrashing down on the man who had kidnapped me whilst Ieyasu was parrying off several of the followers at once. Everything had my head swimming, and Hideyoshi immediately whisked me back to the camp, keeping one arm tight around my waist whilst he urged the horse on.

“Natsuki,” He finally breathed once we got back to familiar ground, and held my head in his hands whilst checking for himself that I was okay.

“It’s just the rope burns, I’m fine,” I replied shakily, my hands resting on his biceps. “He thought I was Nobunaga’s concubine, so he’s had some information from someone but it’s not right,” I murmured, not noticing that the man froze up at my words. I sighed and leant against his chest, exhaustion beating at my body as I closed my eyes.

“That’s not the first time someone’s had that information fed to them,” Hideyoshi’s voice was like ice, though his arms were now tight around me, his large hand cradling the back of my head as a weak attempt to stifle a laugh forced me to open my eyes.

Mitsuhide was smirking broadly at us as Nobunaga nodded to his vassal in acknowledgement. “I presume the same false fed information as last time?” He nonchalantly asked Hideyoshi as the snake bored his eyes into me.

“Indeed, I am wondering where the leak is that needs plugging up,” Hideyoshi replied, his voice stiff.

I poked the man gently to get his attention. “Where’s the best place to sleep?” I asked, knowing that my tent would likely be out of the question.

Nobunaga had a knowing smile on his face as Hideyoshi was torn into two. He wanted to go back and rip off Kennyo’s head, and he wanted to look after me directly. He froze, unsure of how to answer.

“Get a roll set up in the main tent and you can sleep there, we will look after her whilst you finish the plan,” Nobunaga finally replied, as Mitsuhide looked disappointed that Hideyoshi hadn’t been left to suffer.

I was asleep as soon as the mat had been rolled out for me, regardless of who was looking over me at that point in time.

It was dark when someone was shaking me awake. “Natsuki!” Hideyoshi hissed, “You can’t let your guard down that much on the battlefield,” he scolded.

“I did what you told me to, I heard mention of them looking for the ‘girl’, knew it was me and immediately began heading to the front lines,” I replied, confused at the sudden awakening before he sighed and picked me up bridal style.

“I meant sleeping that heavily whilst I’m not about,” he bristled. “I know you did as I told you otherwise.” He was warm and smelt faintly of sake and campfire smoke as I nuzzled against his chest, my eyes closing already in the warmth of his body.

“Mm, I tried,” I murmured, losing the battle I was fighting against sleep.

Hideyoshi was more protective than usual as the camp was packed up. He was loitering whilst I made sure that any wounded were adequately cared for and patched up, whilst the rest of the warlords decided that it was a perfect time to start teasing him. Masamune came over with a faux injury and tried to kidnap me onto his horse to ride back to Azuchi with, whilst Mitsuhide was playing dumb as my supplies kept disappearing the second my back was turned and then making Hideyoshi look away so I wasn’t where I was meant to be. Nobunaga found the whole facade amusing despite the thunderstorm of a look on Hideyoshi’s face.

“Hm, I think we need some time alone in your manor,” I mumbled, still feeling drained from my excursion as I snuggled up into Hideyoshi.

“I get the feeling that everyone else is planning otherwise,” he replied in a low voice.

“Hm, we could just disappear,” I giggled, listening gratefully to the sound of his steady heartbeat. “Gallop off somewhere for a few days and then reappear,” I teased.

“Don’t tempt me,” Hideyoshi growled.

“Like I shouldn’t tempt you on whisking me off to marry me?” I innocently poised the question, making sure that when he did look down at me, he was faced with the big doe eyes that he could never resist.

Nobunaga was laughing as Hideyoshi’s horse broke formation with us tightly on it and waved at us whilst the rest of the army looked a little stunned at the bold manoeuvre by the usually level-headed man. I was gripping on tightly to both man and saddle as the wind whipped through my hair, and left wondering what had possessed Hideyoshi in such a manner.

I was pinned to the floor by Hideyoshi in his manner, his breathing heavy after running through all the corridors with me in his arms. His kisses were passionate and demanding, pouring all of his emotions and needs into it as his fingers removed my clothes expertly.

We were cuddling and basking in the afterglow, knowing that we would be disturbed at some point as Hideyoshi made sure that every part of me was covered by something. I felt like purring in contention as exhaustion started to creep in again.

“Hideyoshi?” I asked sleepily.

“Go to sleep Natsuki,” he gently replied, stroking my head as it was resting against his chest.

“I can’t wait to get married,” I mumbled, slipping into a deep and dreamless sleep.

[letterfromtrenwith]

But What of Home

A George/Elizabeth WWI AU 

George has a few days’ leave, and only one destination in mind. 

~

Only the merest slivers of light were visible at the house’s windows. The Zeppelins had not yet strayed this far south, but the Cornish authorities had chosen to enforce blackout restrictions this close to the coast, especially on buildings like this.

The great old house of Cusgarne may not have appeared the most strategically important, but the ancient Chynoweth family seat had been requisitioned by the War Office, and turned into a hospital for wounded soldiers in 1915. Other great houses of the district had also been pressed into service: Tehidy was also a hospital, while Trenwith had been requisitioned for some mysterious purpose, and was now surrounded by barbed wire and armed guards, the family sent to live at their original home at Nampara. His uncle had attempted to resist the possession of their own home, Cardew, but as he was not the legal owner, he had had no hope. Much to his annoyance, it had become a boy’s school, taking the boys displaced from Truro School, itself taken over by the Admiralty.

Wrapping his overcoat more tightly around himself, George shivered. He could see his breath in the moonlight, although he instinctively kept to the tree line, used now to seeking cover. It may be cold, but he was extraordinarily grateful that his leave had come this time of year, as much as it was with guilt that he thought of the men of his unit, still camped in that frozen mud, breaking the ice on their water supplies every morning, warmed only by the pathetic tea they could brew on their stoves. Unbidden, an image of Ted Carkeek, wrapped in the endearingly messily knitted muffler his young sweetheart Betty had sent him. The same muffler that had eventually been soaked with the boy’s blood.

George forced the thought away - he was here tonight to escape such things, so far as he could. Those thoughts could haunt him all they wished as he lay on his miserable excuse for a bed in the officer’s bunker, but not here. Here was the golden thread of hope which kept him sane through all of this madness.

A shuttered lantern hung over the back door - a servant’s entrance once upon a time - and he pulled the bell, hoping that one of the nurses would answer, and not one of the household. The Chynoweths had remained at the house; the matriarch, Joan, loathed the presence of the soldiers, especially those who were not officers. She would dislike George’s visit even more. There was no chance she would be answering the back door, of course, but one of her remaining staff could well. In the end, it was one of the family who let him in, but one he was glad to see. Morwenna Chynoweth was still dressed in her Women’s Land Army uniform, the daring trousers yet another affront to her aunt’s delicate sensibilities. She’d shed her long coat, however, a knitted shrug over her blouse instead.

“Good Lord, George, is that really you?!”

“Indeed it is, my dear.”

“You don’t know how glad I am to see you, and in one piece, as well. Not much of that around here, nowadays.” Some might have considered such a remark to be cruel or insensitive, but George knew how jests helped to fend off the worst of it. Morwenna may not have been at the front, but still living here, she would see her fair share of the consequences. Young men they had both known for years would not come home again, or had returned as shadows of their former selves.

The kitchen was still surprisingly busy for the time of night, a fire crackling in the great old fireplace, several staff - nurses, porters, military aides - sitting around the scrubbed table clutching steaming mugs. As George entered behind Morwenna, all of the Army men snapped to attention, guiltly buttoning up disarrayed uniforms, one attempting to shove a hip flask into his pocket.

“At ease, men. I’m not your CO.” With some relieved smiles and muttering, the men sat back down. Although men was pushing it, at least two of them looked no older than 17. At almost 30, George was getting close to being the oldest man in his unit, and he doubted it was much different even back here, bar the most senior officers.

“Relax, boys, Capt. Warleggan’s just here to visit his sweetheart.” Morwenna laughed, giving him a teasing nudge. “I would ask if you wanted tea, but I think you’d rather not linger. She’s in her room.”

With a wave of thanks, George hurried out, dress boots sounding alarmingly loud on the hard floors, and the uncovered servants’ staircase. The clatter was almost a comfort - he found the quiet of Cornwall oppressive when he returned home, used to the constant noise: shelling and gunfire, distant or close, the putter of ambulances or dispatch riders, sometimes even the hushed conversation of the Germans from their trenches, depending where you were.

Most of the houses bedrooms were in use for the patients or the staff, but the majority of the family rooms had been kept for their use. His footsteps were deadened now by the carpet which, he could see even in the low light of one or two sconces, was beginning to wear in the middle. He had no idea how old it was, but it had probably never seen so much foot traffic in its life. The door he sought was closed, and he tapped quietly, not wanting to alert anyone else of his presence.

“Elizabeth? It’s George.” He heard a faint rustle inside the room, and then the door was pulled open.

“George!” Even in her plain navy dress, her hair simply pinned back, Elizabeth was breathtaking. The small photograph of her he carried in his pocket was beautiful, but did not do her justice, especially as she was not smiling in it. Her smile lit up her face, increasing her beauty yet further. She smiled at him now, as he slipped into her room. Visting a woman in her private rooms would have been outrageous not so long ago, but all of that was yet another thing the war had made seem unimportant. Considering what could happen at any moment, wasting time worrying about propriety seemed foolish. “Why did you not say you were coming?”

“I did not know until this morning. I was only supposed to be in London, but then they granted me a few days’ leave. I caught the train straight here.” He reached up to brush a loose curl off her face, and she leant into the touch.

“I was so worried. Your letters haven’t come through in months.” She shook her head. “I know the post is not good, but every day I’m frightened…”

“Shhh, my love. Didn’t I promise you?” He’d made the promise the last night before he’d left for the first time - that he would always come back to her. He knew it was an impossible promise to keep, he was sure many men had made such a promise, but he clung to it nevertheless. Every night that he listened to the shelling grow closer, every time he put the whistle to his mouth to signal the charge.

“Yes. Yes, you did.” She stroked the thick lapels of his greatcoat, which was becoming rather warm. Sliding her hands underneath, she stepped closer. “Now, let’s not talk anymore.”

~

It was still dark outside when George’s eyelids fluttered open, perhaps 3 or 4 o'clock in the morning by his estimation. He’d become good at telling the time by the light, something he would have had no idea about a few years ago. His trench watch was on the bureau, but he would have to disturb Elizabeth to reach it. She slept next to him, her head on his outstretched arm, the blankets gathered around her waist. He watched her for a few moments, her face soft and serene in the remaining glow of the fire. She’d blown out the candles before they’d gotten into bed - the Army had electrified part of the house, much to the displeasure of Mrs Chynoweth, but not the family rooms.

So far as he could see, Elizabeth’s room was relatively unchanged since his last visit, save that the vase of flowers on her dresser were poinsettias, not the bright spring blooms she’d had last time. For the sake of the patients, the Army had left the gardens relatively untouched, hoping they would be a pleasant environment for the wounded men. Her books and ornaments seemed much the same, although there was a little wooden boat on the mantelpiece that he had not seen before, although he knew where it had come from. One of the patients had given her that; a young corporal who had lost a leg in an explosion, he’d been a carpenter by trade and had found some solace in practicing his skills. All of the staff had received little whittled gifts, even the medical director - a stern man by all accounts - proudly displaying a smartly carved horse on his desk.

Her nurse’s uniform hung neatly on the wardrobe door, a little ghostly as the firelight flickered across it. Her mother had taken Elizabeth’s decision to volunteer for Queen Alexandra’s Military Nursing Service as a sort of personal affront, strongly believing that her daughter should spend the war as Joan had expected her to spend her time before it - socialising and searching for a husband. Of course, she had found the latter herself, even if George was not her mother’s ideal choice. The Warleggans may have been wealthy, but they were not distinguished and Mrs Chynoweth was one of a certain coterie of individuals who seemed to regard the war as a distasteful business, and soldiers, no matter their rank, as beneath proper notice.

Elizabeth’s engagement ring glistened softly on her hand where it lay on the bedsheet between them. They had been engaged for almost two years now, quite a shockingly long time by some standards. He was sure her mother hoped that they would break it off eventually, or that the Germans would do the job for them. Then again, Mrs Chynoweth did not know about the nights he spent in Elizabeth’s bed when he could return home.

Unconsciously, he had stretched slightly, and Elizabeth stirred, her eyelids fluttering. He held still so as to let her fall back to sleep, but she opened her eyes, frowning a little as she awoke, and then smiling sleepily at him. Turning onto his side, he raised his free hand to stroke her hair.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s all right. We shouldn’t be wasting what little time we have sleeping, anyhow.” She took his hand in hers, bringing it to her lips.

“We cannot stay awake for four days on end.” He laughed softly, letting their fingers intertwine where she still held onto his hand.

“Only four?” Her eyes became sad, her sweet, soft mouth turning down at the corners.

“I am afraid so. I must leave Monday morning at the latest.” Elizabeth let go of his hand and shifted closer, cuddling into him. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. He savoured the silkiness of her hair, the softness of her skin, the scent of her, the sound of her breathing. All of the things he conjured up in the cold and the dark and the mud.

“Every poor, mutilated man they bring in here makes me hate this war more. Hate the generals and the politicians who sit at their big desks and send them off to die.” Her voice was barely above a murmur, muffled by their embrace, but he heard her. “But, as selfish as it is of me, I hate them most for keeping you away from me. Every patient, every telegram, I pray it is not you and I am relieved when it isn’t, until I remember that whoever he is, he is loved by someone, and I feel cruel again, imagining that every mother and sweetheart and wife and daughter doesn’t think the same things I do.”

“Elizabeth…” He said nothing more for a while, running his hand gently up and down her back. “I want you to marry me.”

“But ” She pulled away to look up at him, and he saw that she had been crying. Softly, he brushed the tears from her cheeks. “But we are already engaged?”

“No, Elizabeth. I mean that I want you to marry me before I go back. We have kept delaying, pretending we’ll wait until the war is over, but in truth I have no idea if it will ever be over. It certainly doesn’t feel like it from where I see it. I don’t want to wait anymore, I want you to be my wife. If the worst does happen - ” He cut off her protest. “I know the promise I made, and I swear that I will fight every second to keep that promise, but we both know there are no guarantees now. If the worst happens, I want you to have my name, and my pension, and my inheritance, everything that will go along with being my wife.”

“But - but how can we get married before Monday?”

“Morwenna’s father is a deacon, isn’t he? We can ask him to telegram the bishop for a special license. I’ll beg a despatch rider to fetch it - or I’ll go myself if I have to. So, will you? Marry me, that is?” He searched her face, for any sign of doubt or misgiving, but there was none, and his heart soard. She was looking at him the exact way she had when he first proposed to her. Leaning forward, she kissed him once, firmly.

“Of course I will, but - ” She took his face in her hands, and kissed him again, this time more softly. “But I want you to know, that I do not want your pension or your inheritance. I do not even care about your name, so much as I will love it. All that I want, when this terrible thing is over and done with, is you.”

[fandomimagines-andsoforth]

Stay with me (Enjolras x Reader)

(A/N): This imagine will be one of the goriest and depressing fan-fictions I have written. But, I have put all my heart into this one-shot, and I hope you enjoy it. If you really enjoyed it, please like and comment down below. Feel free to contact and DM me for requests on imagines, head-canons, and one shots. (THAT GIF THO)

Enjolras is a little OOC, That’s because, In the books and movie, he had no interest in women. In this imagine, he is courting one. So that goes against the character a smidge. But He's still the passionate and intense Enjolras we all know and love.

When You’re fatality injured, Enjolras struggles to save your life. Will you survive? Or could your death be the reason he’s never had any interest another woman? Find out in the next chapter.

Word Count: 2,000

Warnings: Gore, Blood, Violence, Police brutality, Angst, Serious feels. 

(I do not own any of the named characters, as I am not Victor Hugo. But damn it I wish I was.)

It was just supposed to be a small Les Amis de l'ABC rally. You were just supposed to support your fiancé. The French government wasn't supposed to impose. And You weren't supposed to be shot. 

You don't remember much of anything clearly. You do recall a loud crash, the stumble of hooves on cobblestone, the screams of the crowd as they were shoved and trampled. And fired shots ringing out.

One particular scream caught your attention as you were looking for a way out of the panic, a little girl no older than 7 was standing alone, crying. Just ahead of her a soldier was storming forward on horseback, relentlessly tearing through the crowd, firing bullets at the peasants. He was going to ram right into her or shoot her first. 

Little ways in front of you, a frantic Enjolras was shouting your name over the gunfire, desperate to find you among the hysteria. You wanted to go to him, but You couldn't just stand there and do nothing, you had to save her. So, you gathered your courage and bolted to the little girl in an attempt to save her life.

You shoved and pushed your way through the madness. Breathlessly sprinting, you were almost there. The little girl was almost safe in your arms. You were so close. 

BANG...

A scream...

Then silence...

The scream was not of your own but of your fiance, Enjolras. Despite the panic, he saw your innocence be shot down and his heart stopped. Everything seemed to slow around him as his whole world collapsed. Enjolras froze and let out a cry of anguish and horror, before barreling towards you.

He skidded across the sharp cobblestone, bloodying his knees. Enjolras shielded your body with his own from the damn soldier's horses. He delicately lifted your head onto his lap and applied pressure to your abdomen. His hands were blood-soaked and his vest was stained, but none of that mattered in the moment.

 You were unconscious, but still breathing, thank the Lord. But you were not out of danger yet, Enjolras knew this. You were losing blood fast and he had to get you out of the massacre. He scooped you up in his arms and weaved his way out of the streets. 

Everything was blurry and distorted Enjolras felt a wave uneasiness within him. He just watched the love of his life be shot. How could he not be in despair? He knew he had to focus, and he knew he had to get you to Joly. He did not know if you were going to be alive if he didn't get you there in time. 

He banged on Joly's flat door with his shoulder, his arms occupied with cradling you.

"Hello, Enjolra- Oh dear," Joly's eyes widened at the bloody sight.

"Please, say you can help her," Enjolras pleaded, his eyes begging and his teeth biting back tears. Enjolras never cried, he was truly desperate.

"Follow me," Joly wasted no time and guided Enjolras through the small flat to a narrow guest room. 

The room was small, shabby with a twin bed in one corner and not much surrounding. One single window lets natural light in.  Besides the bed, stood a rickety, uneven desk.  Methodically placed on top, were shiny, metal needles, scalpels, and jagged instruments, all precisely fixed on a tray. Some looked like torture devices. It was a terrible sight to see. One could only imagine the horrors they could be used for. These were only Joly's tools. He was a bit peculiar in his own way.

Often, Joly was a light-hearted and cheerful person, but he did have a more eccentric, dark side. He was a hypochondriac who studied the morbid and gruesome side of medicine. But admittedly, Joly was indeed skilled in his field of practice. Ever since he went to college with Enjolras and joined the revolution, Enjolras trusted him, even with your life. The most precious thing.

“Set her here,” Joly motioned to the bed. “What happened?” he inspected the wound when Enjolras set you down.

"(Y/n), she..." Enjolras paused to catch his breath. "They s-shot her... There was an attack at the rally. The Français soldiers slaughtered the streets, it was a genocide. They wanted to silence the revolution. Sending soldiers to kill the peasants-" his breath hitched.

"And my (Y/n)- I should have been there, I should have protected her. Damn it, why wasn't I there?" He mentally beat himself and blinked back tears.

"Enjolras," Joly placed a hand on his shoulder. "There's nothing you could have done."  

Despite Joly's words of comfort, Enjolras knew that he should have kept you safe. He thought he failed you. It could possibly cost him your life. Joly immediately assessed your wounds.

"A Bullet shell is still lodged in the lower abdomen, it seems it entered a blood vessel that's why she's bleeding out so much." He started to cut your corset open with scissors. 

"Judging from the location that the bullet pierced, blood is most likely flooding the lungs. The bullet needs to be extracted immediately or else the blood with clot her lungs and (Y/n) will choke," He finished.

At that moment Enjolras wanted to pass out. Everything was hazy and ill-defined. But he needed to keep going, clear his mind and focus on saving you. Joly hesitated and his expression darkened, “There is... um, a slight grievance.”

“Yes? Tell me. What is it?” Enjolras urged. Why is he tarrying? 

"You won't like it and she'll suffer, but I need to keep her conscious for this.”

"No!" Enjolras shuddered at the thought. Was he mad?

"I can't make her suffer through that, there has to be another way."

"(Y/n) needs to be responsive or she’ll go into cardiac arrest, she's losing time," Joly countered.

Enjolras sighed and gave in, "Fine, do what must be done... Just- help her.”

Joly nodded, "Thank you," He pulled out a long syringe of clear liquid. "A shot of naloxone hydrochloride should jump start (Y/n)'s heart enough for her to wake." Joly tapped the needle and some clear liquid squirted out at the tip. He positioned the syringe above her heart. "Hold her shoulders down please.”

Enjolras slipped off his jacket and did what he was told. At least (Y/n) wouldn't feel this pain, he thought. 

Joly plunged the needle into your chest. Enjolras cringed. 

"It should only take a few moments now." Joly massaged the area where the needle had just been injected. A moment of silence passed as he used more gauze to stop your wound bleeding. While Enjolras nervously anticipated what was to come.

…

You jumped awake, gasping for air and coughing up blood. Your lungs burned for oxygen and your eyes stung with tears that clouded your vision. There was a searing pain in your waist. You couldn't see or hear what was happening around you. Everything was disjointed and confusing. Enjolras held your shoulders down. His heart racing and his palms sweating. This was indeed a nightmare.

"I need you to hold her head up so the blood doesn’t clog her airways," Joly said, about to start.

Hovering, Enjolras positioned your head between his forearms and cradled your head in his hands. "(Y/n)! Can you hear me?"

Panting, you nodded. He let out a sigh of relief “(Y/n), love, look at me."

You recognized your lover's voice immediately, and your tired eyes searched for him. You started to fade out.

 “I need you to stay awake,” Enjolras knitted his eyebrows in concern. You felt Joly slice your skin with a scalpel. You moaned and squeezed your eyes shut. The intense agony of your flesh being torn was too much for you to handle.

 “It hurts,” you winced.

“I know, I know. Keep your eyes on me," Enjolras coaxed. He cupped your face and stroked your hair to calm and relief some of the pain. He hated every second of this torment. Seeing your suffering is agonizing to him.

 "Keep her going just a bit more. I'm nearly done," Joly called from his workspace. He almost had the bullet.

“I'm so tired” the words barely got past your mouth. Your brain hurt and your mouth tasted like rust from the blood.

 “Fight it, my love. Don’t give up” He wipes your tear with his thumb. Don't give up, Enjolras repeated to himself. She needs you, don't give up.

You wanted to scream from pain due to Joly's digging at your flesh. Why are you in so much pain? Why won't Enjolras make it stop?

Enjolras saw your fatigue, “Stay with me, (Y/n).” He knew that you could make it, he knew that you were strong.

There was a fiery agony going through your body and you cried out for it to stop. The pain was ceaseless and your head pounded. You thought that your torments would never end and that it was hopeless. You were about to give out when suddenly the misery lessened. Your nerves relaxed and your heart rate slowed.

“It's Finished,” Joly sighed and wiped beads of sweat from his brow.

Your chest rose and fell with exhaustion. Only traces of the searing pain lingered. You wanted so badly to sleep, and return to the comfortable darkness. If Enjolras would allow it, you weakly glanced up at him.

"Sleep, my love." he brushed the stray hairs away from your face, "I'm here.”

You leant into his hand and closed your eyes. Enjolras took comfort in your shallow breathing and turned to Joly in gratitude "How can I ever thank you?"

Joly finished stitching and wiped your blood off his hands, "No thanks necessary," he placed his hand on Enjolras' shoulder "Brother.”

Joly stood and dusted his trousers, "I’ll leave you be with her. You may use the guest room as long as you need.”

Enjolras shook his head, "I appreciate your hospitality but you've done enough. Besides, I wouldn't want to trouble the mistress, Musichetta." 

He then gazed at you, "I need to take (Y/n) back to our flat, and care for her there. She'll be safe."

"I understand," Joly nodded. "Let me give you some dressings before you go," He slid open a drawer and handed Enjolras a white bundle of gauze and cloth. "Change them out twice daily and come to me should you need more. However, I think this should suffice." 

"Again, thank you." Enjolras slipped the bundle of dressings in his coat pocket. "Is there anything I should know?" He asked.

"Just complete bed rest and she should be awake within the next few hours. But there is a possibility (Y/n) will not remember- uhh," Joly hesitated, "The... events, so to speak, of today."

“Understandable,” Enjolras nodded. It might be better that way he thought, He didn’t want you to remember any trauma of today and you could live a normal life with him, the life you always wanted. Enjolras wanted to give you a life of plenty, where you didn’t have to work so much. You could spend the rest of your days together with a home in the country as a family. But he had to make you safe first.

He delicately lifted you up into his arms, careful not to press into your side as not to harm you further. And made the journey home.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Part Two Coming Soon.

[sceawere]

the garrison | arthur shelby/nurse!reader

@yjrevolution wanted arthur and his nurse and i wanted arthur to be goshdang happy so here is what i made

You double checked the letter one last time, comparing the scrawl on the page to the careful lettering on the side of the building. You knew it was the right place. You’d already checked and double checked, and triple checked. But just one last time.

Pushing through the doors you realised it was even warmer than it was outside, even with the fires pouring out onto the street. The close air of the pub met against your skin and made it prickle. It was louder in here too, another feat, given the banging and ringing from the furnaces. You made your way over to the bar, scowling at men as they knocked shoulders with you.

“Hey! ‘Scuse me?”

“I’ll be with you in a minute”

You sighed, leaning your forearms on the bar, clasping the letter between your hands. The atmosphere in here was making your head spin and you flicked your eyes around.

“Sorry, it’s busy tonight”

“I noticed. I’m looking for someone – Arthur Shelby? He mentioned this place and I-“

“What do you want with Arthur?”

You looked back over your shoulder to the man’s voice, eyebrow quirked at the interruption.

“What you doing listening to someone else’s conversation?”

“It’s a public place. One we own. So, answer the question”

“…Tommy…and John��

He looked up from his lighter as you pointed at the men in turn.

“You’re Tommy, right? His little brother?”

He pocketed the lighter again, using his now free hand to pull the cig from his mouth.

“Yeah, he said you were the narky one. Here”

You held out the letter and crossed your arms while you waited for him to scan it.

“You’re the nurse?”

“Aww, he talks about me. That’s sweet. Is he here?”

“No”

He held the letter back out and you waited for him to elaborate. When he didn’t you rolled your eyes, snapping it from his fingers.

“Well, thanks for being so helpful, Thomas”

“He’s at home”

He signalled a guy over through the crowd.

“See her to the house”

You fidgeted, swaying in place a little.

“Oh, well. Thanks for the help. Thomas”

He nodded and turned, letting John shut the door behind him.

-

You marched over to where on of the guys they’d brought in last night was tussling with the attendant. You’d heard the muffled shouts halfway down the corridor and steeled yourself for another fighter.

“Good morning, soldier”

He stilled immediately, turning to you, breathing heavy. You quirked an eyebrow at him, interlacing your hands behind you.

“Are you going to lie down of your own accord or do I need to ask Johnson to punch you spark out?”

The man let go of the attendant and you nodded for him to leave, moving around the bed.

“You’re disturbing the other patients. Lie back”

“Where the fuck am I?”

You didn’t reply, fluffing the pillows up behind him so that if he wouldn’t lie back down, at least he could sit without straining his stitches.

“I said-“

“Oh, I heard. You were quite audible” You tapped his forehead “Lie back before I punch you in the gut”

He looked you up and down, huffing, but responding.

“There, isn’t that better? Well, at least we know your ears still do work. That’s good. I wasn’t sure for a minute there”

He set his jaw, refusing to look at you. You smirked to yourself a little, perching on the edge of the bed.

“You’re at a hospital at a base on Lemnos”

“Fuck’s Lemnos?”

“Greece, Mr…”

You rose to check the hastily written tag attached to his bedframe. There were 20 new men in this hut alone and keeping track of who was who when they were in and out all the time was taking up too much of your time.

“Shelby”

You sat back, looking him over. He looked exhausted even though he’d been asleep for almost a day. He’d woken briefly in the night, muttering and sputtering, and you’d wiped his face with a cool cloth and shushed him back to sleep. He’d been delirious with the dehydration and the shock of the wound and proposed to you twice over that time, when he hadn’t been crying.

“I was at Gallipoli”

“Yes, you were shot. Not too badly, if they’d got you’re here soon enough you’d probably be back out by now but it took them so long to ship you out here I’m afraid you weren’t in the best shape. You’ll need a while to recuperate”

“They’re not gonna put me on a ship? I don’t wanna die on one of those fucking ships”

“You’re staying right here on the ground for now. We’re headed for Malta in a few days”

He looked away again, shaking his head and getting agitated.

“I’m not dying on one of them fucking ships”

“You won’t be on a floating hospital, it’s a transport.

This is the Australians’ base and while they’re being entirely lovely in hosting us, we really are supposed to take British lads back to Malta.

You’re stable, you just need to rest, and since your unit is being cycled out anyway, you’re coming with me Mr Shelby. No arguments. I’ll be by your side whenever you need me to be”

You watched as his eyes darted about. You could see he wasn’t dealing well. Not that many of the guys here were.

“Mr Shelby-”

“Arthur. Mr Shelby’s my dad. Though…he’s called Arthur too, so…”

You smiled at him, and he laughed a little at the way you raised your eyebrows, trying to hold in your laughter.

“Yeah…I’m an idiot”

“Oh no, I don’t believe that”

“No?”

“No”

“And why’s that?”

“An idiot would have carried on arguing with me. You listened, Mr Arthur Shelby but-not-that-one”

You stood, filling a glass with water and handing it to him.

“You listening makes me think you are in fact, pretty fucking smart”

You smirked as you walked away, going to check on another soldier.

Mr Arthur Shelby. Might need to remember that name.

-

You were glad to be out of the pub and walking back down the half-empty streets. The terraces lined your way like trenches but at least there was space and air out here. The guy Tommy had sent to escort you hadn’t spoken a word to you and you hadn’t tried to make him.

He stopped in front of a house, banging the door with his fist and you came to a stop next to him. When the door opened he threw a ‘Tommy sent her’ and turned, walking back the way of the pub again. You watched him go with a scrunched brow, shaking your head when he disappeared out of sight.

“Who are you?”

You turned back to the young guy, so young he can’t have seen the war. Lucky.

“I’m here to see Arthur”

“Who are you?”

You rolled your eyes and gave him your name. He turned to shout back into the house.

“Oi, Arthur!”

“What?”

You smirked at the sound of his shout back.

“Woman here to see you!”

“What bloody woman? Oh, fucking hell, if it’s that-“

You leant forward into the doorway a little.

“It’s no-one you’ve knocked up, you daft twat! Now come get this lad to let me in the house already!”

It took a minute but his head popped round the doorway and you waved at him.

“Fucking hell. Oi, Finn, move!”

He nearly slapped the boy out of the way as he walked past, and you laughed as he pulled you into a hug.

“Oh, God, I forgot how tall you were when you’re not on your arse”

“Shurrup. Right, get in”

He kept his arm around your shoulders as he guided you in, kicking the door shut behind him. You ended up in a kitchen and a woman sat with a quirked eyebrow, sipping tea as you entered.

“Oh, hello. I’m so very sorry about shouting”

“Arthur…you going to introduce me to the lady?”

“Oh, right. Pol, you remember me telling you about that nurse?”

“Vaguely”

He introduced you properly and you corrected him when he gave your nickname rather than your proper one, intent on making a good impression. She seemed like she’d appreciate a little formality.

“Pleasure”

“Yes, from what I hear”

You laughed, turning back to where Arthur stood looking like a teenager bringing home his first date.

“What’ve you been telling her?”

“Nothing! Nothing! None of that”

You raised your eyebrows at him, smiling.

“Sit yourself down. Tea? God knows Arthur won’t offer it”

“I was just getting round to it, Pol”

You mouthed to him, ‘your aunt?’ and he nodded back.

“You the nurse who knocked him on his arse?”

“Uh, oh. Yes. That would be me”

She pushed the cup over to you and smiled.

“Welcome, sweetheart”

-

Polly had long since left you and Arthur had snuck out a bottle of something from the cupboard, spiking both your teas until you may as well have been drinking from the bottle from all that was left in it.

“And then the horse goes fucking legging it, jumps straight over the fence and out the field. Terry comes running out, pants barely over his arse and starts hopping after it, the mad fucker. Anyway, we ended up finding the pig out the back of the vicar’s place”

You took the bottle back off him while he was distracted laughing and took a swig.

“Here I was thinking you were going home to a quiet life”

“Oh, not me, Arthur. Never me”

“Yeah…know that feeling”

You slid the bottle back over to him and settled back in the chair. You’d been balancing your toes on the edge of his chair but now you flicked your shoes off and crossed your ankles on his lap. He brought his hand down to circle around your calf and you let your head drop back, wiggling until you were comfortable.

“How do you live so close to the furnaces?”

“Ah, you get used to them”

“No…it’s too hot. Too loud”

“Only house I’ve ever known”

“Some days when it’s this warm…I have to sit in a cold bath. Can’t get anything done”

You laughed without humour, eyes sliding out of focus as they traced the pattern of the wallpaper behind Arthur.

“I get prickles if it’s too warm. Do you remember my skin then?”

“You were so blotchy I thought you were one of the patients first time round”

“You were half unconscious at the time”

“Never too out of it for a pretty face”

You rolled your eyes but smiled all the same.

“When my skin starts prickling, I could be anywhere, but I’m back there. The fucking heat, I’d never felt anything like it”

He hummed, his hand still tracing pattern up and down your leg.

“It’s the smell of water for me. Sitting water”

You swallowed heavily, almost gagging as the smell hit you even here.

“God, I remember”

Arthur nodded, his head low, concentrating on his fingers work as he circled around. You sat in the stillness for a while. Both of you alone, but together. When you’d had enough of thinking you sat back up, bending at the waist to reach for his face.

“When did you grow this out?”

He let you pull your legs back down so you could move towards him, ending up crawling onto his lap. His hands ran over the plain of skin at the side of your thigh and he looked up where you sat above him.

“Soon as I got back”

“Hmm…I don’t know if I like it”

“Hey!”

“I’m just saying…I remember when you had a face under there is all”

“I still do”

You quirked your head, scratching at his cheek.

“You’re gonna feel different”

“What you on about?”

You reached down and tilted his chin up to better meet his lips.

-

“This is absolutely not allowed!”

“Calm down”

“No, I will not fucking calm down, Arthur! You’re going to get me shipped to God knows where!”

“Better give me a kiss before you go then”

“Oi!”

You play slapped the side of his head and he responded by lifting you up, sitting you on the half wall that enclosed the ‘hospital’ grounds. You shrieked at the movement and he threw his hand over your mouth, both of you laughing. Sneaking out at midnight to mess around with one of the soldiers under your care was not the smartest choice you’d ever made but then again you’d signed up to be a nurse in a war that you swore would never end. Might as well enjoy yourself.

“Arthur! You’ve probably tore your bloody-“

You pawed at the hem of his shirt, trying to get a look at the mending wound beneath it.

“Oh, eh up. She’s trying to get me naked already”

“Shut up!”

You laughed, running your fingers over his side.

“No…you managed to not greatly injure yourself. It’s a miracle”

He dropped his forehead against the side of your head and you turned to nuzzle at him. Your arms found their way around his neck and you dropped kisses to what skin you could find.

“If the matron catches us, she’ll have my guts for garters, I tell you. She was very explicit when we signed up that there was to be no fraternising with the patients”

“Then I won’t fraternise you”

You both breathed out a laugh and you turned to rest your chin on his shoulder, hugging him to you but watching out across the island.

“Thank God it’s cooler tonight, at least”

“You don’t like the heat, do you?”

“Can’t fucking stand it”

His head turned and he pressed a kiss to your jaw. You closed your eyes.

“What happens after this?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…if this thing ever fucking ends…how am I meant to go home and carry on? How can I ever…”

“We just have to”

“Arthur”

“We just have to”

You sighed, leaning back but keeping your arms looped around his neck.

“How are you going to do that?”

He looked at you confused.

“What does Mr Arthur Shelby but-not-that-one want to do with his life?”

He considered for a moment, looking out at the water behind you.

“I want a pub”

You smiled.

“A pub?”

“Yeah. I want the Garrison”

You blinked at him.

“It’s a pub”

“I got that”

“You didn’t look like you did. You looked confused”

“I often look like that when you speak, Arthur”

“Oi!”

You laughed. The only time you seemed to laugh recently was with Arthur.

“What do you want? You still gonna be a nurse?”

“What else am I gonna do with myself? Go back to the farm and pretend it never happened?”

“Could do”

“Nah, don’t think so. I’ll go back but…”

You’d brought one hand down while speaking to pick at the ground down rocks that littered the wall, flicking them away and tracing shapes in the dust they left.

“You’ll marry some posh guy and sort yourself out, I know you will”

“Oh will I now?”

“Yeah, who’s that one you told me about? With the big house on the green?”

“Richard”

“Yeah, him”

“I hate Richard, he’s a twat”

He scoffed a laugh.

“He’s rich. He likes you. You could do worse”

“I could do a fucking sight better”

“He’ll look after you”

“I don’t want looking after”

“Too much excitement to be had?”

You looked up through your lashes at him, hand gripping the stone below you.

“Is that what you’re gonna do? You got some girl you never told me about waiting back home for you? You gonna marry her and buy a pub and go home to pies and a crop of kids? Be Mr Respectable who runs the local?”

“Not bloody likely”

You quirked your lips at him.

“Find me”

“What?”

“When all this is over. Give it a year, yeah? And if you’re not smitten with Mr Richard Posh Pants by then, you come find me”

“At The Garrison?”

“Yeah…at The Garrison”

-

He still slept unsettled, twitching and muttering to himself. You’d hoped being back home, the passage of time, might have soothed him slightly. His arm tensed under your head and you brought a hand up to grasp around it, soothing him with your touch.

“Arthur”

He hummed in his sleep, brow furrowed.

“Arthur!”

He woke with a start, heaving air in through his nose, jaw clenched. He stuttered about for a moment before he looked down to you. He sighed, dropped back to the pillow, and ran a hand to smooth back his hair.

“Sorry, love”

“It’s alright. Want to talk about it?”

“No. No.”

“Ok”

You readjusted your leg where it lay over his and looked over his face. He laughed to himself.

“What?”

“Never had you be so nice to me in a bed before”

You rolled your eyes and smiled, lifting yourself up on your arm.

“Not my job to keep you in line anymore. I’m not here in a professional capacity”

“And yet your bedside manner is better now?”

“Oi!”

He smiled, running a hand over his eyes. He dropped it to his chest, looking over at you.

“Come here. I haven’t held you in a year, what you doing all the way over there”

You shuffled over, laying on his chest and snuggling in under his chin.

“I missed you”

“I missed you, too”

“You’re not leaving are you?”

“No”

“Good. Because I need you by my side”

@collecting-stories

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