#so they are cordial with eachother but they aren’t friends and they aren’t going to talk outside of this specific situation | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

infinitegalahad · 4 years ago

Text

WIFE

Summary: You and Dick, after years of indefinite separation and depression, have finally reunited. Dick can’t wait to start a family with you. You love Dick, but you soon realize that you cannot bear him a son, a daughter, or a child.

Word Count: 10.9k (i’m being generous)

Warnings: Infertility, period typical sexism, Loneliness, based off of a mitski song what did you expect, here comes the angst train *sad choo choo*

Notes: Female reader. and title (literally) taken from Wife By Mitski, which I rec listening too for the extra painful experience. So I’m back from the dead...ish. I wanna apologize for going AWOL for two-three months, guess Iw anted to focus on other works and I feel like x readers are not my strong suit. But that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna write them! I can’t promise anything, but I am planning some stories. Not as long or as painful as this is, of course!

I’m not gonna lie, I cried while writing this. Not only because it’s Mitski, but infertility is something that hit’s close to home for me and my family. Was this story just me projecting my generational trauma into this fic? Never! Anyways, hopefully I won’t go AWOL again, atleast not for that long. It’s really hard to find the motivation to write, but I’ll do it. For you guys ;)

Taglist: @easy-company-tradition

When Dick Winters had left for the war five years ago, he had made a promise to you the night before he was drafted. You were nineteen and naive, planned for college and he was twenty-seven, a post-graduate and Business Major. Your father was his professor and one of his best students. You would see Dick every Friday Night. As you would pick at the leftover peas on your plate, he would turn to look at your father to talk about something business-related. His eyes, you could never tell if they were a light shade of blue or green, would meet yours. It would be for a brief second. Those brief seconds would make you drop your fork and your cheeks turn a light shade of pink.

You had a small crush on Dick Winter’s.

It took you a few weeks to catch onto his eye color. They were a beautiful mixture of blue and green, reflecting a mint color. The taper candles would always lighten his eyes up. The reason you finally found out this eye color was because each dinner, you’d catch Dick staring at you. You were naturally oblivious to it, keeping your head down as your father talked a business deal. But whenever he mentioned Dick’s name, you would look up, see Dick’s dilated mint pupils looking right into your eyes before he swiftly turned his head to your father, acting like he was listening to every little word he was saying.

Dick had become a family friend. Instead of dinners once a week, he would come by your house more frequently in the summer months. The summer you had met Dick, there was a three-month-long heatwave. From what you understood, Dick had been doing an internship with your father along with extra studies, extracurriculars, and even more. It sounded like a lot for a young man. He was over three times a week, always in your father’s studies or the porch, drinking lemonade as he and your father discussed business. You’d sit on top of the porch, lazily slumped in a chair in your floral dirndl, reading And Both Were Young as you watched Dick Winters, in shorts and a tight white shirt with his strawberry blonde hair a little messy. Every time he spoke, your heart would skip a beat.

“Two jobs?” You cried, skipping ahead of him in your flats that you had slipped on in a rush, the heels hanging out of the back. “And an internship? How do you do it all?”

Dick looked down at your tiner figure, his lips curving into a subtle smile at your question. Whenever he smiled, his cheeks would wrinkle. It was a small detail you caught into about Dick that you adored. “I don’t go to parties a lot. Not worth the time that I’ve got. I work these jobs so I can get through school and support my family.”

“That’s very admirable, Dick. Not a lot of guys my age would even consider that.” You remarked with a compliment. Dick walked beside you, hands behind your back with a straight back. His gaze lingered in you as he scanned your figure. Now that Dick was around more often, you always made sure to wear your best outfits. You wouldn’t have considered yourself very vain, but with Dick, something had changed. You started wearing the pretty pastel dresses your mother approved off, fine pearls, expensive cologne, and even the short rompers that your mother didn’t approve of. When wearing makeup, you felt like a woman more than a girl, which is what you wanted Dick to see you as.

“Thank you, y/n.” The strawberry blonde politely thanked with a curt nod. The two of you had a little routine now. While your mother would make dinner and your father would smoke a cigar in the back with the dogs, you’d take Dick into your backyard and down a little cobblestone trail to a hidden lake. You liked to go there to read to escape, and Dick needed a small break from working in the burning heat. So it was idle. “Do you have plans now that you’ve graduated?”

“Yes. I’m starting classes at Franklin and Marshall since they’ve allowed women. My mother prefers I stay home and learn how to be a lady instead of reading,” You explained with a sigh. The only woman in a class full for men. Times were changing, and nothing was going to stop you from working. “She cares more about her grandchildren then her daughter’s desires.”

“Well, it is your choice? Not your mother or father’s. As long as you were happy, then they should be happy for you. I think you’ll like it,” Dick kindly reassured, “You’re a very nice young lady, y/n. I’m sure you’ll do great things.”

The two of you arrived at the lake. The sun was setting over the sky as it shined on the lake. There was an orange and pink hue in the sky. Dick and you stood besides each other. The strawberry blonde shut his eyes and let out a long sigh, feeling a small breeze in the night. The air got colder in the nights, which felt like a refreshing treat after a long day of work and unbearable heat. The sun made his strawberry blonde hair and skin glow like he was some kind of god.

You admired Dick as he stood there, biting your lip and hands playing with the belt fabric on your skirt.

“Dick?” You managed to choke, your voice cracking.

He opened one eye and looked at you, worried. “Is everything okay, y/n?”

“Can you please kiss me?”

Dick looked bewildered. It took him a second to process the question. His expression was that of a high school student stumped on an equation in math class. He hadn’t been outside much, maybe the heat was getting to him. “I don’t think I heard that correctly.”

“Can you please kiss me?” You reiterated, biting your lip in vexation. “I haven’t met a man like you, Dick. None of the boys my mother is setting me up with are like. They aren’t as intelligent, hardworking, cordial. When I tell these boys I want to read and live my life, they put me down-call me insane and ill. But you don’t do those things. You just stand there and listen to me. I may not make sense since I am probably just some young immature girl who knows nothing about being a proper lady. You even give me kind words of advice. No other boy would do that. Only a man would do such a thing.” You vented, letting your words spill out like vomit.

Dick wasn’t reacting at all. At Least it wasn’t obvious. He turned his figure towards you, eyes glued as his lips puckered against each other’s. He seemed taken aback by your honesty since you were someone who was reserved, only speaking when necessary. That didn’t mean adding your opinion to one of your father’s at dinner. Dick wasn’t obvious to your “rebellious” nature. Your mother would always scold you for interrupting the men. Your father didn’t mind your info if, and so didn’t Dick. He was interested in your perspective, and would always ask for further intake since it was the gentlemen thing to do.

You looked at him and shook your head, turning to walk back. “Forget it,” You sighed as you walked past him, your shoulder brushing against his. Dick got a smell of your perfume, a lavender and vanilla, it was definitely expensive. He liked y/n’s armora, especially after a long day of being in a stuffy room full of whiskey and burning cigars. “You probably think I’m just a mad woman-“

Dick thought about his decision for a second. He had to think thinkly. When he made up his mind, he sped walk towards you. “Wait,” He called. He saw you turn around with your silky (y/h/c) (y/h/t) spring right behind you. He scrunched up a fist feeling a lump grow in his throat as he looked a few slow steps towards you.

“You’re not a mad woman. I think you’re wonderful to be around. I always enjoy our conversations and our midnight walks,” Dick commented. He was at a loss of words for the kiss. When you had asked, you sounded like you were begging, but hid it.

It took him a while to realize that the two’s of you had a fair amount in common. You both were soft spoken souls, friendly but quiet. You distanced yourself from large crowds and were usually confident in each other since you both had a trust. You know how eachother worked like nobody else did-a small, intimate detail that only the two of you would watch into.

“You’re also growing into a beautiful young woman each day. Being a lady doesn’t mean being all prim and proper, it means being mature, kind, and respectful to others. That’s what you are.” Dick was only a few steps away. You listened to every word he said, your hands restraining themselves from touching his chest. He could once again smell the cologne and see the moonlight shine on your eyes and hair-the gloss you wore sparkled as well.

“But I couldn’t kiss you. You’re father wouldn’t approve of it.”

You couldn’t hold yourself back. Your hands met his chest. You were so caught up in the heat of it that you didn’t realize that your hands rested on Dick’s Ivory collared shirt. Dick, however, didn’t protest at all.

You gently scrunched the fabric, “He’s not here. Just one. Before my mom tries to marry me off. Just one kiss and I won’t ask for anything else of you, Dick.”

Dick put his bigger hands onto yours as his thumb finessed the small part of your soft, [y/s/c] skin in between your index and thumb. “I…”

You gave him those eyes. They were begging. One kiss from a real man and you would be content.

Dick let out a defeated sigh, “...will. Just one. For you.”

So he did. In the moonlight, Dick Winters held you close and became your first kiss. Your lips were like a sweet treat. It felt miraculous after a long day of work. It was meant to be quick, but he was obsessed with your cushion lips and sweet lip gloss. His hands firmly rested on your lower back as his fingers scrunched with the material. It wasn’t his first kiss, but it was yours, so he made sure to be gentle with you, even though he struggled. The whiff of your perfume, your shirt showing off your abdomen, the silliness of your hair. It was hard just for it to be one kiss.

Dick walked to you, your arm slung in the hole of his elbow. The two of you didn’t speak any words once you arrived back for dinner. It was a typical dinner. Your mother always made Salmon, rice, and peas on Saturdays, which occurred to be Dick’s favourite meal. Your mother raved about boys who could “tame” you, your father spoke of a new business deal in the news, you picked at the leftover peas, and Dick looked at your father with his weary king eyes, attempting to look interested in the conversation.

What kept him away in the dinner as your bare ankle, brushing against his trousers. It was a little bit distracting. Thank god he was a good pretender. It felt so wrong to be doing this, yet so right. You were unlike a lot of women Dick had met. You always caught his attention, watching you each day as you grow into a young, educated woman.

To tame your foot, Dick wrapped his ankle around yours, tenderly holding it down until the meal was over. After dinner was over, Dick wished your family a goodnight.. He gave your mother who adored him a kiss on the cheek, your father a firm handshake, and you apart on the shoulder. His fingers struggled on your bare shoulder for what seemed like forever, brushing against the edge of your neck.

And with that, Dick was gone into the night. You headed to bed and changed, not washing your lips. You had a smile on your face as you twisted and turned. It was a one time occurance, but it felt like your fantasy had come to life.

But before you knew it, it would all be over. Dick would be back on Tuesday, and the two of you would act like nothing had ever happened.

But what Dick and you didn’t know is that it wouldn't be the first time of hushed kisses, lingering fingers, and limbs grazing passionately against each other.

————

The US had entered the war overseas. Most of the boys in your class were putting a pause on their lives to go fight in Africa, The Pacific, or Europe. Anybody who was over the age of eighteen was required to draft, so town was a shit show of crying mothers, lanky boys who could possibly never come home, and military trucks. You wanted to apply to be a combat nurse, but you weren’t of the age requirement.

Dick was going to war.

Ever since the night at the lake, you and Dick kept a closted relationship. He still came over in the Summers. Some days you wouldn’t even see him. But the small moments you had together, whether that be watching the twinkling stars on your walk on the lake hand in hand or cuddled reading books on a rainy day in your isolated greenhouse porch, mattered so much. If you had a bad day, he'd sit there and listen. He wouldn’t judge or give any advice. You didn’t know if he understood your struggles, but it made you happy to know that someone would sit there and listen. For comfort, he would take the book out of your hands and bookmark it, slide off your dangling flats, and pull you into his chest.

Dick’s language of romance wasn’t grand or romantic. Although reticent, his tranquil actions were nothing but idyllic. It was the little things that counted, whether it was fresh perennial’s picked from the field or even a hug. Your relationship didn’t have to be based on gifts and what others thought of you. It was the little things that counted.

The night before he was drafted, Dick invited your family over to his farm. It was at the edge of town and down a long dirt road, leading to a little white house and large red barn. It was picturesque, a cornfield and trees for miles on end. There was no constant chatter, horns blaring, or pressure-it was just quiet.

When your parents and Dick’s parents were distracted in conversation, Dick requested to take a walk with you. As much as you enjoyed talking to the bubbly Anne, you needed a small escape. You followed Dick to the back of his tiny kitchen. Being the gentleman he was, he held the door open and let you walk ahead of him. The only noise that could be heard were the chirps of crickets and the wind gently blowing. You held a hand down on a dress your mother forced you to wear. It was a Jade summer frock, but Dick had complimented you. So it made the frock somewhat bearable.

The two of you walked in his backyard. You had no clue where he was leading you. You turned to Dick to ask. He didn’t respond with words. His fingers edged on your as you unruled your fingers, letting his hand sink into yours. His hands were worked, and you felt awful so you gently caressed the upper skin with your thumb.

“Where are we going?” You questioned as you looked left and right, clinging onto the shawl that hung from your shoulders.

Dick looked down at you. He had a subtle smile on his lips as he looked down at you. All of the anxiety he had felt about being drafted, work, and the war faded away when he looked at you. Dick didn’t need to kiss you to know that you loved him; he could tell from the gentle look of your stunning (y/e/c) eyes. He watched you look into the never ending field ahead of you, the wind blowing loose strands of your updo. You wore a little bit of makeup. It was always subtle. He knew you hated wearing makeup and did you want to do it to look “presentable”. Dick didn’t care what you looked like, whether it be in overalls or a dress, he was infatuated with you.

He should have known from day one that y/n, the mischievous daughter of his Economics professor, had been yearning for him. He attempted to get lost in the papers and speeches of your father in his regal office with the shades closed and the whiff of smoke, earth paper, and Whiskey. Even when he was trapped in the office, you were still on his mind with your elegant perfume and book in hand.

“Here.” He announced, overlooking the cornfield. The colossal, green plants waved in the wind, in front of a hazy smoky dull sunset. You didn’t respond and simply looked into the sunset, slowly watching the shining sun set into the ground. “The cornfields, they remind me of you.”

A smirk curved on your gloss lips as you squeezed his bigger, worked hand with your tinier one. “Is that so?”

“They're wild. No matter the season, they are always growing. They're not the easiest plant to manage, there...unruly.” Dick explained, still a gentle smile on his tringale face.

“Are you comparing me to a bunch of crops?” You teased as your head landed on his shoulder. “Not a lot of women find that very romantic.”

Dick leaned his head on top of yours as he, your thighs brushing against each other.

“I’m going to miss you a lot,” You broke the silence.

Dick didn’t move and had an eerie stoic expression. He tightened his grip on your hand before looking down to let out a soft sigh.

The sun didn’t shine anymore, the corn had stopped moving in the wind, and the stars didn’t sprinkle. You felt your stomach drop as goose bumps appeared on your exposed arms and legs. You froze and looked down at the grass, seeing your feet nestled right next to Dick’s.

The possibility that this could be the last time you saw Dick, held him, read with him, and kissed him haunted you. As a child, you had made it official that love was off the table. But when the giant gentle with red hair and mint eyes waltzed into your kitchen on that fateful night, your world had been turned upside down. Trying to be logical, you could live if Dick died. He was far too old to marry you, and most likely showed no interest. You could've been just a pretty face for him to silently hold before acting like you never shared tender moments in the moonlight. If he died, you would move on, marry someone your mother chose out for you, and start a mundane life of cooking, folding laundry, and having children.

But emotionally, if Dick didn’t come back to Lancaster, something would be missing from your life. Something important.

“I can’t promise anything. You know that, sweetheart.” Dick cautioned you, whispering into your hair. At Least he was being honest-better than sugar coating a sensitive subject. He tried to make you look at him, but you refused. You were being stubborn, pushing away the emotions and trying to think logically. But in all honesty, it was catching up to you know. Tears stung at your eyes as your mouth quivered.

“I know, you don’t have to tell me, ” You sniffled, “I’m not an idiot. I prefer it if you be straightforward with me.” Dick looked at you with his thin eyebrows knit together and narrowed eyes. After sharing such a kind moment, he most likely wouldn't wanna break news that would tear your heart to pieces.

You preferred if he’d just spit out the words and get it over with. Make it easier for both of you to handle.

He moved on his hands to your cheek to wipe the incoming tears, but you refused. You turned your head and swiped the tears with your shaky palm, red lipstick and mascara staining your skin.

You scoffed in frustration, “Just say you want me to break up with me. It’s for the better. I’ll go to school, you go to war. We act like nothing ever happened. For the greater good. It was fun while it lasted..But I...nevermind.” You looked down at the ground, refusing to look at Dick. One glance and the next thing you would know, tears would be streaming down your face as you ran into the night.

Dick turned and followed after you as your footsteps increased with a few mumbled sniffles. “That’s not what I wanted to say-”

A pained sob escaped your mouth as you walked forward, a red face with tears streaming down your cheek. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. Please, for the better of us. It’s better to use your mind over your heart and not worry about some young, naive girl who had a crush on her father’s best student!”

“Y/n...”

You continued to walk forward and ignore Dick’s pleas, but your stomping slowed down.

“Y/n...”

Dick was creeping up behind your. Your speed walking slowly turned into slow, sluggish steps. Tears streamed down your face as your hands slung at your sides. Dick was now right behind you, watching you as you sniffled. You slowly turned your head to look at him with mascara running down your face.

“Oh, Sweetheart..” Dick softly sighed. Your whole body turned around as you fell into his arms, letting out a loud sob. Small sniffles turned into wails as you cried into his chest, staining the ivory collared shirt. He stroked your hair as he ran reassuring circles on your back. He wanted you to get all of those pestering emotions out. After a few minutes of sobbing and Dick comfortingly holding you close, he broke the silence.

“That’s not why I brought you here,” Dick cooed into your hair as he traced mindless figures into your lower back.

You looked up with your big (e/y/c) orbs, letting out a little sniffle. He had a soft smile on his face as he wiped a stray hair from your face, slowly tucking it behind your hair. “Then...why did you bring me here..?”

“This cornfield holds a special place in my heart. I come here a lot. It’s peaceful, but lonely.” Dick explained as he grabbed your hand, holding your tiny one in his own. He looked down at you, “After working with your father, I’d come home and run here. I’d stop midway to look at the wind and the way it moved the corn. It was so relaxing, so that’s why I brought you here.”

“To not feel lonely?”

“Yes. I felt alone, until I met you.” He admired, “I was surrounded by people, but I still felt alone. But when I spent time with you, I didn’t feel alone at all. It was a highlight to see you, even if it was sitting across from each other at a table or seeing you, laying on the porch. I looked at you and I got happy.”

“Dick, I…” You were speechless. His words wanted your heart, but his message baffled you. “Appreciate your kindness, but what do you mean?”

The gentle strawberry blonde held your hand. He didn’t hold it tight, but used both his hands to hold them up. He slowly backed up and lowered himself on one knee. From the books you had read, you knew what this way. Initiatively, you would’ve said no and ran away. But Dick had courted you with his gentle hold, reassuring words, and sheer presence.

“I couldn’t keep it any longer. I know there’s a chance that this will be the last time you see me for a while or at all. I said I couldn’t promise anything, but I..can’t hide it. I love you, y/n. I don’t care if you want to start school and make your own money, I don’t care if you wear pants, I don’t care what you do. I care about your happiness. I want you to live a long and happy life. You’re the most beautiful and intelligent woman I have ever met. I understand you’re young, and you can turn this down if it’s too much. Dick announced as he pulled a velvet box from the back of his pants, he opened the box to reveal a golden Celtic band. You put a hand on your mouth in joyous disabelif. “I want to be with you, but only if you want to be with me. You’d never be alone...Will you marry me, y/n?”

“Dick, this is…” You chuckled in disbelief. One minute you were crying, now you were laughing. Dick in one hand held a beautiful ring, and the other hand your delicate hand. “Wonderful. But my parents...they…”

“I talked to your father. He said pick out a white dress you want.” Dick replied. “You’re mother cried. I thought she was upset, but she was beyond happy. She told me she knew you had an eye on me since I started coming over for dinner. They approved...but if you don’t want this, I understand. I just couldn’t hold it in, even if I don’t come ba-“

“Yes, Yes, yes, yes, yes…” Your words started low, but then turned to loud cheers. You squealed, nodding enthusiastically. “I will, Dick. I’ll marry you. I don’t care. If something does happen, I'll be happy knowing that I’m yours. Even if you don’t…” the three lettered words struggled to come out your mouth. It was such a rough word. Unable to bring yourself to say it, you chose to leave your pessimistic side for something more optimistic. “I won’t be alone, even if you’re in Europe, The Pacific, wherever. I’ll just know you’re here, in my heart and dreams.”

It turned out that this whole dinner was a setup by your family and the Winters. It just had to be Anne Winters that she found about your relationship with Winters. Being sixteen and sassy, she casually shrugged it off and stated that “Dick was a horrible liar”. It should have been obvious with Dick’s favourite meal, the fact that you were placed right next to time, Anne’s teasing, and your mother pestering for you to look presentable. It all made sense now.

But there was one ball in the air-the ceremony. Dick would be leaving for Toccoa the next day, the afternoon. Your parents wanted a big ceremony for the morning. The Winters didn’t care-they just wanted the two of you to be happy considering that Dick was going to be away for a long time or forever.

You and Dick had to come to an agreement. You announced at the end of dessert that you would wait to be married until Dick came back from the war.

Obviously, this caused a bit of uproar. But with Dick leaving tomorrow, they chose not to make a big deal of it. As long as you and Dick were happy, your families could be nothing but be happy for you. Even if it was a short amount of time.

After the storm that settled, you and Dick had left his house. You hopped in his truck and drove to the local chapel Dick had attended with his family every Sunday. In the middle of the night, the two of you eloped. He made sure to pull over and pick out a group of Perennials, all kinds of your favorites. You even stuffed some into your messy updo which had turned into a half updo.

After your quiet ceremony, the two of you drove back to your estate. There, the two of you spent your first, and poetically final, night together in your childhood bedroom; making love, cuddling, and cherishing every moment you shared with each other.

The variety of perennials’s Dick had picked out were placed into a blue and white ginger jar. It was meant to be a memory of Dick. He wouldn’t be there psychically, but spiritually, he would be right there.

Dick was surprised to learn that you weren’t a virgin. He was raised a Mennonite, waiting for marriage. You, being a curious young woman, had experimented. It was once, and an unpleasant experience. Before, you had felt indifferent about sex. It was something that women were meant to desire. You were told to be a virgin and wait for a man to take control of you. Hating those words, you chose to do the opposite. Nobody knew of your little secret, besides Dick-your husband.

Dick was nothing like the boy you had lost your virginity to. Unlike that boy, he was a man. Not because he was masculine and tough, but because he treated you like his equal. He never treated you any differently from your father. Dick had morals and integrity, he was compassionate, quiet but polite, open-minded, and used his brain and heart. That was what you defined a real man as.

Dick treated you like you were made of glass. He wanted to make sure everything was perfect for you. He didn’t care about his feelings, he only cared about yours. He wanted to make sure that you were enjoying yourself. You aided him in some areas, but the two of you were on a ride after a rocky start. Dick always asked how you were doing, if you wanted him to stop, go slower, or if you needed to break. He left sloppy kisses all over your body and had his hands wrapped around you like a young child with a bear. Dick didn’t let go of you once.

That night, the two of you held each other close as you chatted for hours on end. That was what you had looked forward to, not the sex. Sex was still a big piece in your marriage, but it wasn’t the most important. You looked forward to the long and mindless conversations the two of you had. Dick held you in his warm arms, toned and muscles from the workout’s he did year round. He would hold you close to his body as the two of you discussed life after the war.

It didn’t matter what the future held. If Dick was gone for one year, ten years, or forever. What mattered was the two of you had each other in your little moment of peace before all hell would break loose.

You and Dick had chatted the whole night away. The next thing you knew, you would go from the bedroom to the train station. It was a moment you dreaded, but it had to be done. Dick once again had a stoic expression. He kissed his mother, your mother, and sister, shook his father's and your father’s hand, and gave you a long sweet kiss on the lips. Dick struggled to pull away, but he knew it was for the best. Before climbing onto the train, he promised to write to you at every opportunity he got and tell you about Europe, the war, and anything he desired to tell you.

The next thing you knew, you were alone again.

When you arrived home, you kicked off your shoes and walked up the stairs. Your mother asked if you were okay, to which you silently nodded your head. Your father had noticed your unusual silence. He had offered to take you shopping, thinking that money would make you happy. All you did was politely decline and retreat to your bedroom.

Your room was stuck in time. The sheets were all over the floor and Dick’s tall figure that had been imprinted on the left side of your bed. The dress your mother forced you to wear laid on the floor, along with your flats and pearls.

The sun shined through the curtains as you crawled onto the side where Dick had laid. You closed your eyes and sunk into his pillow, holding onto the disappearing scent of your husband.

On Top of the books, you had been reading were the perennials; lavender, daylilies, and stonecrops. You looked up from the pillow, your nose buried into the pillow and a blanket loosely covering your legs.

Suddenly, you didn’t feel that so alone anymore.

———

One year turned into two, two turned into three, and three turned into four. You kept the calendar’s from over the years in your room, neatly stored under your bed. You found it funny how time flew by. You could remember the first day of walking in your classroom and the day you walked off the podium with your diploma. The pretty perennials that Dick had given you from what seemed like a decade ago had died. They were withered and derived of the bright colors they once had, hanging on the side of the blue and white ginger jar. The perennials reminded you of yourself. Once you had been a fiery young girl, and now you were an exhausted graduate student who was bound to become a widow.

Around the time you had found work at Lancaster, BBC announced that the war was over in Europe. That should have phased you and made you jump up with glee, but in all reality, it didn’t. The optimistic side you once had was long gone, turning into a pessimistic bitterness. The war was over in Europe, but not in The Pacific. Dick still wouldn’t be coming home, and you learned to accept that.

Sure, he had sent you letters in the beginning. Lots of them. He would talk about his adventures in training, his dreadful drill sergeant, his friend who was a “one of those city folk”, and so many more things. He expressed his boyish pride in being a patriot for his country. His little letters used to make your day. But as the leaves fell from the trees and the years passed, his letters would slow down. The last one you had received in January, written in December. It was short and sweet. The letter rested in your drawer. As the days passed on, a small part of you broke. You had been married for five years, yet you felt like you weren’t even married. No Dick kissing you, holding you in your arms, or comforting you in your darkest moments.

When the flowers had slowly withered, so did your hope.

But that all changed on a warm September day. Your mother had called you from your room, not specifying what was awaiting for you at the door. You grumbled and got up, taking off your glasses as you walked down the stairs, expecting to see another colleague trying to woo you.

You didn’t expect to see a tall man with a soft smile, strawberry hair, and a neat military uniform. Your husband-Dick Winters.

It was like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. You dropped everything, running right into his arms. You buried your face in his chest as he pulled you in close, his worked hands resting on your lower back and hair. He smelt amazing, and his uniform was soft. You missed his tender touch and soft words. It had been forever since you had seen him. In that moment, nothing mattered. No words needed to be spoken. In all honesty, you never wanted or needed pity from others. You just wanted someone-Dick-to be close. You thought of yourself as a coward, but all you wanted to feel was alright.

“Sweetheart, I missed you. I’m so sorry,” He apologized, stroking your embrace. His voice was stoic, as usual. It really was Dick. He was home and in your arms, at last.

“Don’t. Just stay. Please.” You softly cooed into his chest. No, you couldn’t let go now.

Dick let out a soft chuckle and stayed in the embrace. War was a strange beast. It stripped families of their children and caused mass discussion. Dick thought he wouldn’t come home and see his wife who had married the night before he was drafted. As the years had gone by, Dick began to regret his choice. What if he had left you a widow?

But that was the past. It was gone-nothing to waste tears on. In your extended embrace, the future didn’t matter, it wasn’t worth stressing. Dick and you lived in the present moment and made it beautiful.

-----------

Nothing had changed after Dick had come home. Life was still the same, except you weren’t as alone. Dick was still his stoic self. He was a doting husband. You expected him to struggle when he returned to civilian life. He wasn't used to homemade dinners and a bed much-the flashes of exploding limbs and artillery flashing through his eyes. Both you and Dick were independent. It wasn’t a bad thing. You could spend hours reading as he did a puzzle in another. On some days, the two of you would do activities together. You’d lay your head in his lap as he’d did his puzzle. On other days, Dick would be needier. Originally, he wasn’t vocal about it. It took you a while to catch onto it. He held your hand more in public, pulled you closer as you slept, and whenever he was in a mood-he’d come right to you and just give you a look. You knew the look all too well-and knew how to cure it. Dick would wrap his arms as you snuggled into his chest and talk about anything your minds came to. Sometimes you’d talk, but other times the two of you would close yours and fall asleep. Dick wouldn’t have any nightmares if held you close for comfort.

Without you, Dick didn’t know what he would do. How he could return to the simplicity of life.

Somehow, he returned. And every day he made sure to thank you for making him feel like a human and not a machine-whether that be through a gentle peck, a cuddle, or even a literal “thank you”. He loved you more than anything in the world.

----------

Shortly after Dick returned, the two of you moved out to New Jersey. His “city-boy” friend (his name was Lewis Nixon, but Dick called him Lew) had offered him a job at his parent’s nutrition company. So off the two of you drove from Lancaster to the suburbs of Haddonfield. Haddonfield and Lancester were virtually the same; small country bumpkin towns isolated from the big cities.

You and Dick had bought your first house (which was given by Nixon was a “late honeymoon gift). It was a small colonial house in a tiny suburb, pristine white with red doors. The decorations in the house were limited, a few photos of your and his family with elegant furniture gifted from your parents. It was a little big for your liking. It was a nice gift, but in Nixon’s words, it was for the “incoming armada of redheads”.

Babies. Children. Of your kin.

Dick had mentioned having children. When he was still adjusting, he’d hold you close as he talked about his plans for the future. Buy a farm in Pennsylvania, build his own business, and start a family of his own. He had told you that anywhere you would go, he would go. Anything you wanted, he wanted. He was about thirty two and you were close to turning twenty-five. It was expected at your age to have young children, but with no husband around and a job, it was difficult to settle down. You would gulp and smile, looking down as you held his hand.

Dick didn’t want to pressure you. He knew that were siginactiatly younger. Times were changing, you had a job and life of your own. He never wanted to interfere with it. When you would get insecure about not being the “ideal wife”, he’d reassure you that you were his wife and didn’t have to do anything you didn’t want. Dick wasn’t a man who put fear into others to get what he wanted. He was a patient and gentle soul.

You had tried a few times here and there. As much as you tried to enjoy something that was pleasurable, it was painful. You hid it from Dick, but Dick wasn’t an idiot. Dick wanted you to enjoy it. You could his mint eyes, hungry yet soft, as he laid on top of you, both of your hands restricted as you did the deed.

You weren’t making any noises, looking to the side. Something was wrong, you knew it. But you couldn’t break it to Dick. How would he react?

Dick catched onto his. He pulled himself together and pulled out. You looked at him and gave him a stubble style as he scooted closer to you, his breath heavy and gelled hair a mess.

“Hey,” You smiled awkwardly, clenching at the sheets.

Dick looked at you, a smile curving as his lips as his hand caressed your cheek. “How is my wife doing?”

It was a private nickname. He called you it after the war, especially when he was feeling vulnerable. Sometimes it was “my little wife”, which could be sweet or driven by lust. The little nickname made your heart skip a beat. You were proud to be his.

“Good. I’m tired,” You yawned as you held his hand close, playing with his big fingers.

Dick looked at your face as he admired your natural beauty, a pearly smile, your hair loose on the pillow, and your figure covered by a thin sheet. His hand moved from your cheek, your nape, and eventually your stomach. He drew slow, soft circles around your tummy.

“My little wife with our baby,” Dick remarked, his fingers dancing across your bare skin. Any girl would’ve fallen head over heels if a man had said that. You should have been happy, you wanted a family.

But how could you tell him?

There was a long silence between the two of you. All you did was look into his mint orbs, stroking his hair out of his face.

“I hope he, or she, looks like you. So they get their mother’s beauty.” Dick looked down at your stomach and planted a kiss.

You gulped, thinking of a response. A pretty white lie. “And there’s dad’s redhead and kindness. If you’re a little guy, I’ll tell you that it’s hard to find a man like your day.”

“And it’s hard to find a woman like your mother. She’s a firecracker,” Dick jabbed as he playfully ruffled his hair.

“Dick…” Your words were low as you held back a sob. You plastered a smile, it hurt to lie. “We don’t even know if it’s a boy or girl. I don’t even know if I have a baby there…”

“Well…” Dick laid his head on your stomach, gently finessing the skin under your breast. “If It was a girl, what would her name be?”

You hated the feeling-naming a baby that wasn’t in your stomach. Dick believed that you were pregnant, or at least he believed you were. In response, you bit your lips-looking like you were deep in thought.

“Margaret,” You announced, “Molly for short. After my grandmother, in her memory.”

Dick tilted his head up and nodded, “For your grandma,” He planted another kiss and rested his head once again, “A boy?”

“Lewis? You like that fellow a lot.”

Dick shook his head, “No. I can’t look at him and our child the same way.”

You let out a chuckle before shaking your head. An image of a little baby flashed between your eyes. Mint eyes, dimples, and soft red hair. You wished it would occur.

“I can’t think of a name. You?”

Dick was silent for a minute as he laid on your stomach, your fingers entangled in his locks.

“Thomas. His name could be Thomas,” Dick proposed.

“Why is that?” You questioned.

Dick let out a sigh before crawling up to you, pulling you into his arms,“He was a C.O, to replace Sobel. I didn’t know him for long since his plane was hit. He’s listed as missing in action...but,” He froze on the words, unable to say it. You looked up at him Dick, who looked to the side with guilt tugging at his heart. You planted a kiss on his chin.

“He was twenty-two years old, just married. He sent a letter out to his wife to tell her that he was coming home. She still believes he’s out there, lost in some forest, finding his way home..” Dick looked down at you. Just like Meehan, he had been freshly married, sending out a letter. While Dick had kept his short and sweet (he didn’t want to promise anything), Meehan was too big for his britches. He didn’t show his fear, confidence in the face of adversity.

“Okay, Thomas it is. I like that name” You expressed.

Dick saw your face glow up, and so did his. He smiled, nodding along. “Thomas and Margaret,” He looked at your stomach once more, running his hand across your flat stomach. “I like that too.”

You nuzzled into his chest as he planted little kisses on the nape of your neck, holding you close for warmth. The two of you remained there, the only noise being your breathing.

Pulling your head back, Dick moved his hands down to your lower back to pull you up, closer to his face. “Y/n?”

“Yes, Dick?” You looked into his mint eyes, the candle in the room glittering in his orbs.

Dick held your cheek as he admired your face, “I love you, my little wife.”

You looked down before looking at your husband, moving slowly up to his face.

“And I love you two, my big husband.”

Maybe time stopped when Dick’s lips had met yours, but the flutter only intensified. Your heart pounded in your chest as your knees went numb. You could only focus on how soft Dick felt against your mouth, how addictively he invaded all of your senses.

It wasn’t clear if you had dreamed this all, but the raw emotion in the way Dick’s fingers curled against yours. Dick kept his eyes open, sneaking a guilt peak every time you took a breath for air, just to make sure you weren’t a product of his imagination.

You weren’t sure if nature rooted for this moment, but it distracted you from everything. You just laid there with Dick, draped each other's arms as you sloppily kissed. Dick pulled you in once again, gently placing his lips onto yours until your knees had once again gone numb, overpowered by his. His other hand rested on your stomach as he murmured Margaret and Thomas, talking about how excellent of a mother you would be to your babies.

By the time you became aware of this, you froze, letting Dick kiss your body. You looked at the ceiling, hands in his hair as he decorated your skin.

It was like a car had run into you, throwing you down to the side-a rude awakening. As much as you denied it, it was creeping up on you.

There was no Thomas. There was no Magaret. There was never going to be a Thomas or Margaret.

Your stomach was flat, nothing moved. There was no life in your stomach ever. No matter how many times you tried, wished, prayed, there was only one conclusion.

There would never be a son or a daughter in your stomach-ever.

From that point on, life was slow. You woke up, gave Dick a kiss goodbye, worked from home, cooked dinner, read with Dick, fell asleep at an ungodly hour, and repeated the mundae routine everyday. With Dick being a general manager, he would work late hours. At some points, the only time you would see him is late at night when he’d crawl into bed giving you a kiss or early in the morning. Still, in his weary and stressed state, he’d always kiss your stomach every night and morning.

With your irregular cycles, constant negative tests, and pelvic pain becoming more evident in your marriage, you decided it was best to see your Doctor. As much as you didn’t want to know the possibility of what could be wrong, at least you would have an idea of what it was and how to make it better.

It turned out you couldn’t make your problem better. The doctor had a sympathetic look in your eyes as he listed off possibilities. You just sat there and looked at your stomach; your cold hands pressing against your stomach.

You were infertile.

There was never a Margaret growing in your stomach, nor was there a Thomas. There was nothing in your stomach.

How the hell were you going to tell your doting husband this?

---------

It was another Friday night in September. The leaves fell from the trees, the radio softly played in the back, it was peaceful in your little white house. Dick still hadn’t come home yet. You attempted to act like everything was normal as you put on a nice dress, pearls, and a fake pearly smile. It was all fine.

Nothing was fine.

You stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down into the haunting abyss. This feeling of dread and tightness became background noise as if it were traffic on an unseen road. There were times where you could handle it, and times where you could not. This was a day where you couldn’t handle it. Each day passed, and the more you repressed it-it hurt. It hurt even more than it was supposed to.

You were faced with a dead-end, a terrifying one, with thoughts of temptation and contemplation. You felt even lost in your own home and marriage, feeling helpless and scared. This wasn’t supposed to happen. In the partial society you lived in, a woman’s identity revolved around the ability to convenience. As a girl, you laughed it off, saying you’d do what you’d please. But you were no longer a fiery girl, but a broken and bitter woman. Bitter at the world for forcing the idea that women were baby machines. You, as you typically did, pushed it away.

Stuffed it into a closet, but it was now pouring out. All the baggage that you had repressed was right in front of you. You never felt like you belonged in the parthricaral society you lived in with their white picket fences and predictable lifestyles. That didn’t mean you didn’t want a family of your own. You had a husband, a job, a house, everything seemed perfect. But one thing was missing-a baby.

The older you had gotten, the more it affected you. Going to those parties for Dick’s job and seeing all the wives with their babies and fumbling toddlers. You didn’t feel anything towards them at first, but they eventually grew on you. Dick’s first few days home contained long conversations about what your lives would be after the way. You would chat with him for hours about it to distract from the nightmares that flooded his mind, holding his hand.

“A nice little farm near Lancaster, one or two kids, my own business, and the most important thing...you ” Dick would say, his words full of love. “My wonderful little wife, Margaret, Thomas, and me, on our farm. We’ll have each other.”

The kettle boiled in the water, the loud noise screeching in the kitchen. You dropped the knife and heard it clack onto the ground. All you did was stand there with wide eyes and shaky legs, looking down at the ground as your nails dug into the counter.

You couldn’t bear him children-you tried and tried and tried but to no avail. If you were not Dick’s, then what were you?

---------

Dick had taken off his trench coat, sliding his shoes off as he neatly put them right next to yours. He let out a sigh as he loosened his tie. Work had been stressful once again. All he could think about was seeing you and his growing little babies. Of course, he never told anybody. But knowing the thought was between you and him made it special-something so personal and beautiful. He couldn’t wait to see your face and hold you close, talking for hours on end. Anything you said or did made him head over heels, just like it had done to you five years ago. You had been distant and not your usual self, and Dick was worried. He knew of the insecurities you had, feeling like you never had fit into a certain mold.

He had walked into the kitchen and instead of finding you, he found a dropped knife and kettle that was overflowing with boiling water. It looked like you had left in a hurry. He made sure to check all of the doors to see if you had left, in which you had no. In a calm manner, Dick cleaned up the kettle and put the knife back where it was. He wanted to help so you wouldn’t stress.

The pitter-patter of the shower coming from upstairs alerted Dick. He walked up the stairs and down the dark hallway, seeing the bathroom light creak from the bathroom. Creaking the door open, the all to familiar noise hit his ears. The bathroom was foggy as the shower ran. Looking down, Dick saw the water come to his feet, staining his wet socks. Your flats were spread on the ground along with your knit cardigan, soggy from the water. Inside of the shower was you, clothed with your makeup running, hugging your knees as you looked down.

Dick let out a soft sigh as he looked at you, his shoulder slouching down. It was paining him to see you in this state, “Oh honey..”

You didn’t move, only your eyes did. He walked towards you, into the shower. He wore a white suit and dress pants, which were now we're stuck to his skin. He put himself right next to you as the hot water warmed his cold skin. You adjusted yourself to lean on his wet shoulder. Dick said there as you leaned on him for comfort, listening to the white noise of the shower.

“I tried,” You mumbled as your fingers ran circles in his arm.

Dick looked down at you with his strawberry hair sticking to his forehead and drips of water rushing down his face. He frowned, tiping his head to the side.

“I tried and tried, time after time. I tried so hard and I…” You lamented, grasping onto Dick’s arm. It was hard to spit out the words. You had already said the first half of it, you needed to say more. “I just can’t. I can’t do it.”

“Do what?” Dick questioned, his fingers lifting your chin. Tears streamed down your cheeks, your mascara coming down along with it. His thumb wiped away the incoming hot tears. He was too kind to you. His mere presence reassured you. “Don’t cry, my little wife. Let me help you. Whatever it is, whatever you need, I-”

“I can’t have children. Not now, or ever.” The words came out your mouth. It felt like you were spitting fire. It felt strange like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. Even though it was gone, it still lingered. “I went to the doctor last week. I’m infertile, Dick.”

Dick just sat with a frown on his face. You couldn’t tell what was going through his head. His free arm had wrapped around your shoulder was slowly falling as he let go of your chin, making an “oh” noise.

You looked at him and let out a sob as your face fell into your hands. “I didn’t wanna tell you. I know you’ve wanted children, every man wants that for their wife. You want a son who looks like you, and a wife who can provide that for you. I can’t. I wanted it too, but I watched my dream break. I’m supposed to give you a baby like a normal wife should...” Through the sniffling and sobs, you refused to look at Dick. He seemed disappointed, but you could never tell what he was feeling. “If you want a wife who can give you a child, then, by all means, do so. I’m worthless.”

You could feel it. Your relationship was over. Maybe it was for the better. Dick could start his family, and you could work a job in Philadelphia. They did have an opening in Philadelphia. It was better to have nobody-so you couldn’t get hurt and hurt others around you.

“No,”

Slowly removing your hands from your face, you turned to Dick. You scooted back, not able to tell if he was upset at you. “No?”

“No. You’re not worthless, y/n.” Dick attested, “What would make you think such a thing?”

“We’ve always wanted a family down the line. You would kiss my stomach every night, talking to the...” You looked down at your flat stomach, your hand gently squeezing the skin. It broke your heart even more just feeling what Dick assumed was Margaret and Thomas. “Just didn’t want you to get mad at me. I know you're upset with me.”

“Don’t give me that malarkey,” He growled, crawled closer to you as he grabbed your cheeks with your foreheads nuzzling towards each other. You could feel the warmth on the top of your forehead, “I’m not upset. You didn’t have to hide this from me. I should’ve known, I’m so sorry sweetheart.”

Dick tenderly grabbed your shoulders and leaned you back on the white subway wall. He was gentle as he wiped the sticky hair from your face for a clearer view. He had a soft smile as he caressed your cheek with you leaning into it.

“But if I can’t give you children, what good use am I?”

“The reason I married you wasn’t that I wanted a family. At that moment, in that cornfield, I wanted you to be my wife. If I didn’t tell you, I don’t know if I would’ve died content with my life,” Dick complimented with a kiss to your wet hand. “You're not just a pawn used for children-my little wife. Just because you can’t have children doesn’t mean I won’t leave you. I wouldn’t even consider the thought. It’d be hard to find someone like you, y/n. Nobody as hardworking, beautiful, and fiery”

A chuckle escaped your lips, “Like a cornfield?”

“Like a cornfield,” He assured. “I don’t care about children, the past, the future, anything. I married you because I was in love with the beautiful, growing woman five years ago, and I still am. All I care about is my little wife, y/n-you. I love you.”

You nuzzled into his shoulder, “I..love you too, Dick.”

Silent communication was your and Dick’s form of romance. You didn’t need big gestures and materialistic gifts to feel comforted, sometimes you just needed someone right next to you, or in your arms. The silence was nice and the warmth was needed. Dick’s warmth felt like a little touch of heaven, warm, together, cozy. You wished that you could extend the night just so you could stay in his comforting embrace, relived in his hold. In his hold, you believed that there is nothing to fear, that there is all sunshine and love. Dick was the cure you needed, a lone star in an otherwise empty sky, he was the morningstar that you prayed wouldn’t disappear.

“I’ll make us dinner,” Dick said as he got up. “I’ll even run you a bath. Does that sound good, my little wife?”

Your fingers held the tip of his hands. Your (y/c/e)‘s met with his mint ones that shined in the pristine light. He gently helped you up with a hand resting on your waist.

Resting a hand on his chin, you looked down and shook your head. “I want to make dinner with you. I feel clean.”

“Are you sure?” Dick questioned, pulling you closer to his body. “I know you haven’t been sleeping.”

“Well I’m not tired. I haven’t felt like we’ve talked lately. You’ve been gone and I’ve been distant.” You confessed. The brutally honest was needed now. You tipped your head to look at Dick. “I wouldn’t mind a helping hand.”

“Fine, if you insist,” He placed his hand on your upper back and swept you off your fear. You let out a little chuckle as you snaked an arm around his shoulder for stability, “You said you needed a helping hand.”

Once you and Dick changed out of your wet clothes and into your matching silk robes (gifted by Lew, the man even had your initials engraved into the pocket), the two of you headed down to the kitchen to cook. The radio played in the back and the kettle silently brewed as you sautéed the chicken and Dick set the small table in the tiny dining space.

“Hey, y/n?”

“Yeah?” You looked behind you as you washed your hands of the greasy oils and spices.

“Did you grow up with dogs?”

You nodded as you dried your hands, “Two-a Westie and Cairn terrier. Your point?”

Dick came over the counter as he leaned on it with a smirk. It wasn’t condescending, but it looked like an idea had popped in his head. You loved it when he smirked or smiled; the dimples on his cheeks would show.

“I know you get lonely when I’m not around. Lew knows a lot of good breeders in the area. How do two dogs sound?”

You were lonely. Loneliness was a feeling you knew all too well. It haunted you as a child and adult. Except when you were a child, you thought it would disappear. But in truth, it did not.

“Two dogs sound nice, Dick,” You confessed. The kettle began to make a shrieking noise. Walking over, you grabbed two cups and poured hot water into them. The water from clear to a darkish brown. You let the bags settle for a few minutes before taking the two cups over and handing one to your strawberry blonde husband.

“There breed? Are we sure Lew won’t try and steal them?”

“Well, Lew wouldn’t steal them. He and Grace already have enough animals to take care of,” Dick put his two big hands around the mug. “Two terriers, a boy, and girl. Just like the ones you grew up with.”

“Ok,” You smiled, raising your eyebrows. “And their names?”

Dick took a sip of his tea before smacking his thin lips. “I was thinking of Margaret and Thomas. Do you like that?”

You finally knew the answer to why Dick was asking about getting dogs. Not that you were in protest. Dogs were like children-just easier to take care of.

“Yeah, I like that a lot.”

Dick put a hand over yours, giving it a reassuring squeezed. He smiled at you, and you smiled back.

Within the week, Lew had come over with the cutest puppies you had ever seen. He had also brought over all of the necessary supplies for two puppies, and even two sweaters with their names. One was a feisty and quiet Westie named Thomas and the other was a sweetheart with a sour side named Margaret. You and Dick loved them more than anything in the world. They were fed Filet Mignon from the table, slept in between you and Dick, and always for what they wanted. Even Dick gave into their puppy eyes whenever they got into trouble. The reason he wanted dogs in the first place was for his little wife; y/n-you. Not only did he want to make you feel a little less lonely in your little colonial house, but protected. Dick wasn’t always there to look out for you, even though he knew you could handle yourself just fine. Still, it was the thought that counted. Knowing that you would have two little balls of energy to keep you entertained made Dick content, and so did you.

Lewis Nixon was right all along. He never saw you and Dick having children. In his wise words, dogs were “far superior” than children. Dogs didn’t cry as much, they weren’t as needy, and they didn’t wake you up in the middle of the night. Mostly.

You would see the way the dogs would interact with Dick, and how Dick would interact with them. He’d treat them like children. From rocking Margaret in his arms to having long conversations with Thomas about why he shouldn’t bite you his mother while you peacefully sleep, it made your heart skip a beat, seeing Dick be so gentle with the two puppies.

Every night before you would head to bed, Dick would always remind you that his dream had finally come true; buying the little patch of land in Lancaster for the farm was within reach. He’d give you a kiss and pull you close as the two of you fell asleep in each other's arms.

You broke away from the terrifying cliff that you had looked down, heading towards your morning star, Dick, with hope that it wouldn’t disappear.

#dick winters x reader #richard winters x reader #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #richard winters imagine #my writing #oh gosh this is painful #also listen to wife by mitski #y'know if u wanna even cry harder #all aborad the angst train #*sad choo choo*

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pokedash55 · 4 years ago

Text

Raincloud HC and Mini Fic

BENTHOMAAR/VANIA HC DUMP.

CAN BE READ PLATONIC OR ROMANTIC BUT THESE TWO WOULD BE PERFECT FOR EACHOTHER EITHER WAY

Inspired By @parachutingkitten

- They saw each other at the nya tribute but didn't get to actually meet

-Bentho became king of merlopians but struggles with citizens seeing him as a real king, as many still are distrustful of the surface world

-He has gluttonous there as the royal scientist and Gripe helps him out, but the citizens still don’t view him has a true king after what happened with Kalmaar

-Bentho and Vania have a cordial meeting for royal business

-Vania is struggling less with her people and more with her city economically recovering.

-Bentho wants to bind the kingdoms somehow, since her kingdom is so inland that if they had good relations with a mountainous region it's one step closer to accepting him.

-They are skeptical of SURFACE DWELLERS not humans so it's a good try.

-establishes trade and economic relations with each other. Maybe trade or sell deepstone and bioluminescent stones for jewelry and architecture in return for some shintaro product unavailable under the sea. Maybe a metal or type of cuisine? Not sure. Flowers perhaps since they have so many in the garden.

-Both relate to having less than respectable family members and share experiences with defeating them

-share new ruler problems they face and can relate to each other very well

-benthomaar can keep up with the bubbly energy of Vania and they both have a backbone to keep their bond from being too unhealthy, fluffy and overly optimistic.

-bentho has trauma from kalmaar's abuse and goes overboard to try and impress vania and thinks he has to be the best damn guy and best royal ally possible to keep her current friendship

-Vania is pretty easily impressed and is very vocal with her admiration so he'll be overwhelmingly happy and confused when she latches on so quickly.

-she'll show him around the sky city, bentho never been so high up, and can introduce him to her allies down below.

-Bentho loves the caves much more than the city in the sense that it's more comforting and all the underwater streams and lakes remind him of home.

-all streams lead to the ocean so I'm not surprised if they find out the water is connected to merlopian seas some how

- this can also work to compliment the kingdoms

- Like Merlopia can reach out and achieve diplomacy with another kingdom instead of being so islationist, and shintaro struggles with moving on from a unsustainable and horrific economic system so they could help eachother alot.

-Both very isolated so coming together may be a good step for both countries’

-Merlopians could be accepting of geckles and munce since they live below the surface, and the shintarins live high above it (so they couldn’t flood it even if they wanted to). It’s baby steps towards liking the rest of NINJAGO as a continent.

-When they become closer friends she Opts for calling him Ben or Benny, since she is so outgoing and bubbly like that, but immediately backtracks and asks if it was ok and apologizes, saying she went over the line

- He would stand up for himself and deny BENNY but I think Ben would be a cute name between the two uwu

-Benthomaar is naturally formal in his ruling and has to push himself to relax while Vania is very lax and friendly with her ruling but needs to push herself to be demanding and formal (She took awhile to use the “Princess” card against Halmaar, opting instead for mutual understanding)

-ok quasi-fic time

___________________________________________________________

FIC SKELETON (might finish writing someday but here’s the basics with some interaction)

summary: : They spend the day learning about each other kingdoms, and in turn eachother.

________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 1: Shintaro

Vania goes about giving Bentho a tour of her city and he is overly courteous of her. She finds it cute at first but then she starts worrying if Benthomaar thinks she can’t handle herself.

Introduces Bentho to Chompy. He finds the dragon very cute and that gets a big smile out of him, really showing off his very sharp teeth. Chompy loves him immediately and starts to climb over him and sit on his head and stuff. Bentho reciprocates pretty much immediately, no stranger to the values of an animal's unconditional love. (The only love that ever seems unconditional in his experience.)

He has trust issues from Kalmaar and tries extra hard to earn love so he goes overboard sometimes, he’ll be the sort to open doors literally all the time, agree with her ideas more aggressively than is really needed, go out of his way to try and physically protect her from perceived threats, etc. Not knowing this fact, and being insecure about her own leadership skills, she thinks he is babying her, or worse, pitying her. She eventually tells him that she can indeed handle herself.

“I can handle myself Benthomaar, you don’t have to do all these things for me.”

“I… Know that”

“You’re very sweet and I appreciate your generosity but… this”, gestures to all the things he bought or given or made for her, and gestures to the situation they were in where he immediately went to protect her from, “simply is too much”

The walk back is a tad awkward after that. Bentho remarks he’s never been so high up before and he does seem very dry from the heavy winds and cold air.

Good thing it’s about time to show him the lower parts of the Kingdom anyway.

“Halmar, I am escorting Benthomaar down through the mountain. Can you be in charge while I’m gone.”

“As you wish my queen”

Benthomaar looked the armored man up and down. “Halmaar? Are you of royal blood too?” he asked.

“What?” Halmar bluntly questioned aloud to the merlopean king before sputtering out in a bow, “I mean, Pardon?... Your majesty”

“Benthomaar this is Halmar. My right hand advisor and head of our defensive force.”

“Oh. In my people, -Maar is given to that of royalty. ‘Halmaar’ means Brave Sea. ”

“Well I can assure you he’s very brave.” Vania beamed as Halmar recovered from his bow. “And will protect the city while I'm gone” she reminded him playfully, as she moved benthomaar out of the temple.

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CHAPTER 2: The Dungeons

Going through the dungeons vania remarks on her father’s previous ruling over it. They share stories and struggles.

Talks about her father and how the ninja came to help. Goes into the topic of her ruling struggles.

“Now that I have helped bring King Vangelis, my father I mean, to justice, people expect me to fix everything. They come to me asking for plans to retain Shintaro's glory, or with pleas for more funds. The people put so much faith in my father and, although his actions were Terrible… it made the city so wonderful for everyone living here. I don’t think I’ll be able to make Shintaro prosper the way he did. I love my people but they expect so much of me all at once. I admit It is very difficult to keep track of it all.”

“That sounds rough, but at least your subjects care for you. The people of Merlopia don’t see me as their king...and they have every right to. I helped the surface dwellers and my actions led to Kalmaar’s death. In their eyes I am a traitor…. Many don’t follow my commands unless they are directed through Gripe. It’s understandable they won’t respect me… I was adopted after all...”

“Well I respect you. Why, from the past--” counts on her fingers with a tongue sticking out “-- three hours I’ve officially known you, I’d say you’re a wonderful ruler! I hereby royally dub you a great king! You can tell your people that!”

*Small air laugh recovering from his Sadness* “Thank you, Vania. I don’t know how much they’ll regard a compliment from the mouth of a ‘surface dweller’, though”

*Smol vania /hj sad pout to one side*

“But I appreciate it, really!!” He corrected arms waving at his front, trying to recover from his previous, in his eyes, disrespectful remark (also in his eyes failing horribly at doing so. He needs to queen to like him. This isn’t going well and-)

“I know you do.” she beamed, “ Now Come on, I see the cart tracks we’re getting closer!!” she happily stated, almost skipping past the new King.

Bentho looked onward at the long haired blond who was trying to walk and balance on the rim of the track, and smiled with relief that she is so easy going at him. He essentially disregarded her royal decree to her face and she brushed it off like nothing. Trimaar had always honored heavy respect towards other royals but it seems this Queen runs things very differently. Even the day had been tame. It felt more like some playdate than an official royal gathering,but with how stressful becoming King had been it was a pleasant change of pace.

“Hey Bentho! We’re HEeeereee!” Vania waved excitedly as the other royal caught up to her standing near a steep ledge leading down to an opening with a large passageway.

Have to go down a large mountainous trench first to reach the dungeons. Benthomaar prepares to scale down the cliff but Vania brings out her wings and tells bentho to hold on. She flies him down the cave--

(Flying is vaguely exciting, but also vaguely terrifying. He’s never really had to deal with the possibility of falling before. Buildings in Merlopia aren’t that tall and you literally can’t fall underwater, there’s always something supporting you.)

The two meet up with the chancellor of the geckles first. He welcomes Queen Gania and her friend Genthomaar and he asks first for trial by mino, but Vania orders him off. Scoffing at her majesty’s boring overriding of their usual procedures he opts for a simple vote for bringing the new unfamiliar face to the munce queen. Bentho gets rocks thrown at him and the geckles cheer as they escort the two to where murtessa is. Vania giggles at him.

Next up is the muntz.

So she'd challenge him to a quick duel to see if he is a fitting ally. Naturally Benthomaar rocks with a spear, so he's good, but he'll be really confused at first and probably not want to fight her.

He doesn’t win, but Murtessa sees through his fighting that he has a good heart, and a brave one. She declares him an ally of the Munce. King Menthomaar. And then gives him a hearty slap on the back and invites them all to dinner. They politely decline (Vania, to preserve her stomach. Munce food is, ah, something else.)

Murtessa thinks Bentho is a good kid and a good fighter. She thinks it's funny how polite he is, though. Gives him some royal advice that he’d be a little better off if he would carry himself like a king. “Confidence! Important in every Munce ruler!”

Bentho finds her and Munce a bit...much, but they also kind of remind him of the Maaray back home so he also finds it kind of familiar. (Also he doesn’t know it, but shark Merlopians are kind of rough and tumble, too. Like Munce, but without tight knit families or a set kingdom.)

________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 3: Merlopia

Goes back to the temple to discuss whats next.

“If we are going to be partners in this royal engagement, I think you should see My homeland. Merlopia”

Vania just laughs at his wording

“What did I say?” Genuine confused babi just trying to be overly courteous cause he feels like he must be a GOOD KING. ULTRA KING.

Brings her to the beach. He signals her to wait there and he dives into the water to ask nya for some help in bringing Vania down the depths. She knew the bare basics of what happened but seeing nya in such a state made her a tad saddened.

“Nya. Can you help bring my friend to Merlopia?”

Nya nods all slow and goddess like. “You helped me defeat Wojira, correct? For that I’ll grant you this.”

“Thank you, nya”

“That’s NYA??”

“Do I… know you.”

She just frowns at that question. She knew she and nya were not super close but to be forgotten like that. Ouch. “I guess not”

Nya makes a large air bubble and descends quickly down the depths. And like cool camera pans and junk and bentho is riding the wave nya is making outta the bubble and vania sticks her head outta the bubble for a sec to meet his gaze and feel the current go by. Fluff insues

“Don’t worry there is air in the palace”

Vania just loudly exclaims in relief cause honestly she was prepared to be living in a bubble forever.

Nya just...disintegrates. Which is a bit strange to see, even for Vania who usually likes weird stuff. But she doesn’t linger on it long because ooooohhh Merlopia is so pretty! I mean Shintaro is pretty too but this is a whole different kind of pretty. It’s like the gardens of Shintaro, but that’s the whole city. It’s so colorful compared to the flawless Ivory City.

They tour around a little bit, with Vania looking at everything in interest. She even likes the Royal Ripper Sharks (who are being treated a bit nicer now that Kalmaar is gone, and are sicced on people far less frequently than before.) Benthomaar gets a bit nervous when Gripe runs up to him with a bunch of kingly concerns and kind of tells him a lot of noncommittal responses.

Since they declined dinner with the Munce, Vania’s stomach starts rumbling, and she embarrassedly admits that she was pretty hungry.

Benthomaar invites her to dinner in Merlopia.

They eat while discussing trade stuff and diplomacy? (And also their day and the G&M and such.)

Also a fun chance to make up some Merlopian culture and food, and for him to share it with her. Unsurprisingly, it’s a lot of fish. But that’s honestly great because they don’t have a lot of that in Shintaro. There are a few streams a hike away that she's had every now and again, but for the most part fish isn’t something eaten often in Shintaro.

Benthomaar is pretty happy with this set-up because he had been eating dinner all by himself which was very lonely and wistful. It's much nicer with her company, and he needs her to know that, and really wants her to stay around and to like him so that they can do this again. So his super-manners-having-to-prove-himself-worthy-of-friendship kick in again and he starts getting super formal and passing her stuff and offering dishes a little overzealously and such and she's like "this again what the huh?"

“My lord, you're...doing it again.”

“Sorry, I’ll do better.”

“Better? You’re doing just fine. Really. The meal is great, the presentation is beautiful, and you’re being so kind. I just...don’t need this much attention at once, that’s all.”

No I’m not it’s not good enough. I’m not good enough. * frowns silently * *internal screaming *

They decide to meet again later to discuss trade and commerce deals and both bow goodbye after dinner, but soon as she leaves the dining room and gets lost roaming the temple (this palace is constructed like the caves how do they find anything) eventually ends back up at the dining room, where benthomaar is cleaning up the table and stacking the used dishes and they both realize that she can't get back up on her own. They share a laugh and Bentho promises to escort her back up.

Vania wonders why he is cleaning and not the palace servents so she decides to help him clean up, since it seems his people weren’t going to.

The end

(Also Nya is busy being a goddess somewhere else, so they’ll have to get her transportation back at a later date. With any luck there’s an air-breather-friendly manta saddle that they can use for her.)

________________________________________________________________

They are too precious for this world someone please do more of thisssss

#ninjago #ns15 spoilers #ns15 #ninjago seabound #ninjago seabound spoilers #benthomaar #ninjago benthomaar #ninjago vania #vania #Vania X Benthomaar #raincloudshipping #ninjago raincloudshipping #raincloud #ninjago nya #nya smith

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