CHERRY

· · ───•⋅⊰ ꥟ ⊱⋅•─── · ·

Nothing has changed regarding the weather over night. The sun still shone hot in the sky once morning came and no wind blew to, even slightly, lessen the heat.

Nisrine had realized that, perhaps, she shouldn't have spent the whole night riding... A dull ache begun to spread in her lower back from the long hours in the saddle, and her legs felt close to cramping from being in the same position just as long. She begun noticing things she didn't these past two days, the quiet hours leaving her with nothing better to do... The dust clinging to the horses coat and her own boots, a buckle that could be tightened a little bit more... She had also noticed that the horse had gotten more accustomed to being ridden, no longer a restless animal, but a traveling companion...

Another thing she noticed was the road... It was slowly becoming more and more even, the stones covering the trail became smaller and more uniform in size, until finally... They became a paved road. Large slabs of white stone, the same ones lining the streets of Vharos, interwoven with small, colorful pebbles. She was nearing a bigger town and before she could overthink it, made her way towards it...

Osinium was big... Far larger than many of the Teranori trade cities... It shone in a different way than Vharos would in the late afternoon sunlight, less coastal, but not less warm... The paved road Nisrine was on continued up to the first gate... The connecting walls were made of wood, most likely oak, with watchtowers perched every so often. The gate opened without questions, giving her passage towards the inner parts of the city...

Before her stood an avenue... A long stretch of cobbled road, flanked by towering chestnut trees, almost as old as the city itself. They formed a canopy over the road ahead, casting shade on those passing through. She neared the inner gate, one flanked by two watch towers, taller than the trees below them, and a stone wall... Two guards kept watch over the gate and as Nisrine approached, the two men simply stepped to the side.

˝The doors are open, stranger, provided your hands are clean. State your business or your destination.˝ one of the guards states, looking up at Nisrine.

˝I look for a place to spend the rest of the day and have a warm meal... I depart at sunrise tomorrow...˝ she answered calmly, slowly lowering her hood. Her hair spilt over her shoulder, her braid almost completely taken out by the travel. She pushed a strand of hair from her face, waiting for the guard to let her pass.

˝Step into the peace of the hill, traveler. Leave your blades in their sheaths and the dust on the road. May the Madonna watch your steps, and the city watch your back.˝ and with that, the gate to Osinium opened fully and Nisrine was allowed passage.

Walking through the streets, she felt at home... The bustle of vendors and customers, children running around the legs of their parents and strangers alike... Nisrine dismounted her horse, looking around at the stalls. Stopping at one, she looked at the spread... Knitwear, scarves and sweaters, some shawls, but loose fabric as well... The vendor saw her and walked over, but before she could get a word in, Nisrine waved her off with a small smile and walked away.

She looked for an inn, one not too crowded, perhaps one in a smaller street, away from big hubs of life. By the time sun had almost set, she ran across one she thought would be good... ˝The Crooked Wall˝ was writen on a sign hung on a stone pole in front of a brightly lit door... She stood before them, debating on if she should tie her horse and enter, or look for another place to rest...

An old man greeted her before she could think further...

˝Evening, lass... Can i help ya?˝ he said, his voice kind and gentle. Nisrine looked at him and smiled.

˝Maybe.. I'm looking for a place to eat and rest... Is there space inside?˝ she asked with a gentle voice, soothing the now slightly restless horse.

˝Aye, but the common sleeping are is crowded tonight. A lot of teamsters rolling in from the eastern flats. If you still want a place to rest, there's private chambers upstairs—ones with a proper locks on the doors and straw mattresss to yourself—it'll cost you a silver piece though. But it includes the horse's stall and your supper. And quite the supper it is tonight, Romina made a roast AND stew... as if she knew it'd be a crazy night..." he said and laughed to himself. ˝SO, what'll it be?˝ he continues and Nisrine nods.

˝Sounds fair.. Where do I take my horse?˝ she says and pulls the horse closer to herself.

¨Oh, I'll take care of that for you, lass. Is that alright or would you like to take the horse to the stables yourself?˝ she takes a breath and looks around.

˝If you could lead the way, I'd like to take my horse there myself...˝ Nisrine stated witha slightly apologetic face and the man nods.

˝Alright, never too cautious...˝ the man leads the way towards the back of the large building housing the inn. Nisrine put the horse in the stables, tying it and taking all her things. Although there weren't many valuables on her or the horse, what little she had, she couldn't risk it being stolen. The man led her to a door near the stables and opened it for her.

˝Enjoy your stay, lass...˝ she nodded and entered the door and into a big crowded room. A hearth dominated the farthest most wall, a fire warming the common hall... The hall itself was lined with long wooden tables and a mix of chairs and benches. The  area around the hearth had smaller tables that could fit maybe three people, one's Nisrine made her way towards. She sat down, the chair worn and creaking, but she didn't mind. Her things found their way under the table and she looked around. There were many people in the common hall, talking, laughing, having conversations that seemed exciting. The scraping of chairs, clinging of cutlery and the soft thuding of mugs, the crackling of the nearby fire.

˝What can I get for you, sweetheart?˝ the voice startled Nisrine out of her thoughts and she looked up.  A kind faced woman stood next to her table, a tray in her hands and an apron warped around her waist. She was older than Nisrine, perhaps in her late 30s, but still seeming somewhat youthful. Nisrine smiled at her.

˝I was told at the entrance I could get a room, a stable spot and supper for a silver...˝ she started, but was quickly interupted by the woman.

˝Oh, yes.. That and then some, sweetheart... I'll have one of the younger serving maids take you to your room and bring you the food and drink... For that silver, I can even have someone set up a lovely bath in the room!˝ she said with a smile and walked away, swaying her hips as she did. In her place of her appeared a younger girl, maybe 16 or 17 years of age.

˝Ma'am, I've come to take you to your room... Food will come shortly after...˝ she stood still, waiting for Nisrine to make the move to go upstairs.

The room was more spacious than Nisrine expected. The bed was neatly made, a table was set in a corner with a chair and writing supplies. Another serving girl came in, carying a tray of food and drink and setting it on the table. She smiled at the other two women, and as she left Nisrine slipped 3 copper into her hand with a smile. The girl smiled wide, nodded and left, partially closing the door after her.

˝I'll bring up some hot water and towels for you... And let you rest...˝ the first girl said and left, letting Nisrine settle for the night.

As the girl prepped the bath, Nisrine looked out the window. The Temple of Doriane, the Hearth Mother, shone atop the central hill of Osinium. Golden light spilled through the pillars of the Temple, illuminating the figures infront... Some looked like people praying, other like statues of the other Gods of Teranor, all bathed in the light of hearths of the Temple.

˝Everything is set, ma'am... Enjoy the evening...˝ the girl said and departed and walked out, letting Nisrine lock the door behind her. She stripped off her clothes and descented into the warm water. She felt her muscles relax, sliding further down into the tub. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting her mind fill with memories, as she did the nights before.

· · ───•⋅⊰ ꥟ ⊱⋅•─── · ·

The great hall of The Ravenskeep bustled with life at the celebration of  prince Kael's nameday. The royal family of Teranor, House Therys, sat at the head of thehall, some engaged in conversations among themselves, some with nobles of other houses. The king sat idly in the middle of the table, having just returned from a talk with one of the generals. The seat next to him, his wife's seat, was empty as she spoke to her old friends in a corner, laughing at something. On his other side sat his oldest daughter, a look on her face unreadable...

˝What is on your mind, my flower?˝ he asked her, leaning down closer to her ear. Her nose scrunched up and she turned to him.

˝Why do some of the lords think Kael will be king? I'm the firstborn... Isn't that how it goes?˝ she asked her father, looking at him. His quiet laugh reverbated in her mind, only making her more confused. ˝Why are you laughing? It's not funny...˝

˝My sweet daughter, those lords do not know what they're talking about... You are my eldest, my heir... Nothing will change that. Their opinions are old, influenced by the uneducated people who have no right to meddle in our affairs... Why are you bringing this up now?˝ he asked, looking at her face.

˝I overheard some of the lords mention that now, since Kael is of age, you may reconsider the line of succesion... Choose a more favourable heir than 'the girl'... Do they not realise where they are?˝she said, crossing her arms. ˝And they mentioned Westeros, saying their kings have the right approach to that... Mhm, sure they do... Do these men not know how to read? Maegor's Coup, the Great Council of 101 AC, the Dance of the Dragons... Let's not forget what happened a few years ago... I know I was only six, but I've read about the legitimisation of the kings bastards... What is admirable about that?˝ she said, shaking her head, her eyes darting towards the lords who were still talking in the same spot as they were when she had overheard them.

˝Their minds were not made to think, it seems... Do not worry your head with them... Enjoy the feast, go to your friends... Those lords know nothing they speak of...˝ as he said that, his lips pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, patting her back and sending her away from the head table.

· · ───•⋅⊰ ꥟ ⊱⋅•─── · ·

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· · ───•⋅⊰ ꥟ ⊱⋅•─── · ·

Morning came soon. The birds chirped above her head, the light illuminating her face. It was peaceful to spend a morning like this, in a dew covered clearing, with the trees letting in streaks of sunlight, forming patches on the ground. She saddled her horse and packed up her supplies, looking over the clearing once more. She led the animal through the trees before mounting it and moving towards a faint road.

The day stretched on... The sun followed her movement, passing along the sky as she passed along the dirt road. A few merchant carriages passed her by, the waggoners giving her nods of acknowledgement. It was her first contact with other people since she left Vharos, even if it was so brief. What they saw wasn't a noble, but a traveler... Covered in dust and dirt, probably a few blades of grass as well... But it didn't bother her... That is exactly how things are supposed to be...

But what did begin to bother her was the silence... Yesterday, it was serene... A feeling of freedom, but today... Today it turned heavy, the only sounds around her were the rhythmic thumping of hooves on the ground and the birds above her. Even the sound of rushing water disappeared after a while as she traveled more inland. With the sound of Caldra gone, the other sounds amplified. The crunch of the gravel, buzzing of insects, the distant sound of something else she could not identify...

To pass the time, she begun to hum a quiet, wordless tune... She remembered it from the streets of Vharos late at night, when people went to sleep, from her own mother lulling her younger siblings to rest... The gelding flicked it's ears towards the sound, shaking it's head...

Her day stretched, the road bending into a singular, unending line that pulled her deeper into the heart of Teranor. The memory of the morning mist clung in her mind, the rays of sun that warmed her face now turned into beacons of heat... The constant heat on the pale skin of her face started becoming unbearable as the day went on, she could feel the red inch up on her cheeks and nose. The cloak was becoming too much to bear on her shoulders, adding to the heat... But she wouldn't risk taking it off...

Day gave way to night and the temperature lowered, finally aiding to comfort her from the blistering heat. But she didn't stop her movement... If anything, she adopted a faster pace, her goal being to reach as far as she could when the temperature allowed it...

Night on the road was different... There was no one, nothing... No bird song, no distant sounds of life... Only her own heartbeat and the sound of hooves on the gravel beneath them... Her hands loosened their grip on the reigns as the crickets begun their song... She took a deep breath, looking around at the darkened world around her.

· · ───•⋅⊰ ꥟ ⊱⋅•─── · ·

The night outside the tall window of the room was warm... This day in the eighth moon had been particularly hot, that many refused to leave their homes... Only occasionally would the wind from the east bring drops of sea water to cool down those who dared venture further from their front doors...

˝You're thinking again, my darling...˝ her mothers voice sounded softly. The girl hummed, still looking out the window.

˝Do you think it'd be as hot tomorrow as it was today?˝ she asked, looking at her mother.

˝Most likely...˝ her mother answered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

˝Now... Did you listen to the story I was reading or just thinking of tomorrows day?˝ she asked with a subtle smile.

˝I did!˝ the little daughter said, sitting up in bed. Her mother laughed at the burst of energy.

˝Well then... What is the meaning of the story?˝ she continued.

˝Endurance in hardship...˝ the girl answered and her mother smiled.

˝The wild rose grows in the quiet stone... It doesn't ask for the sun to hurry... It simply bides its time, roots deep in the earth, until it is strong enough to bloom through the cracks...˝ she quoted her mother's word, making the woman laugh loudly, before covering her mouth.

˝My, my... You really were listening... The wild rose endures just as you will one day, my darling... I didn't name you Nisrine for no reason...˝ her mother moved closer to her daughter, cupping her face and kissing her forehead.

˝Sleep well... We are having a family day in town tomorrow...˝ at her mothers words, the girl groaned and whined.

˝Ugh.... Do we have to?˝

· · ───•⋅⊰ ꥟ ⊱⋅•─── · · 

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· · ───•⋅⊰ ꥟ ⊱⋅•─── · ·

It began as if it were any other day. The sun was slowly rising on the horizon, dawn breaking the darkness of the night. Light danced on the sea beyond the cliffs and the birds began their song. The city streets bustled with vendors setting up their stands, the aroma of freshly baked bread and pastries, of ripe fruit and fragrant spices wafted through them. In the Old town, the elders of the community gathered like they had for years on the benches in front of their doors, freshly brewed teas in hand, ready to talk and reminisce of the past.

It has always been like this. Her father and his father before him... All had gone through the same thing as she is going through right now. No sigil, no coat of arms... No name... Nothing to mark her... She had to earn them, to make a name for herself...

The courtyard was silent, except for the few servants who began their work early. She stood near the gate, the reigns of the horse felt unfamiliar in her hands. It wasn't her horse, but some young gelding bought off a farmer only a few days prior. She had rations for only a few days, maybe longer if she ate less.

˝My darling daughter...˝a voice came from somewhere behind her, still soft from sleep. Her back was kept turned, an attempt to separate herself from, what would soon be, her past.

˝Stay safe... May Nemea guide your way...˝

She could imagine her mother's face, laced with sadness, seeing her eldest leave home... She knew her father was there; he didn't have to utter a word for her to know. She could see him holding her mother, ushering her back inside the keep. She mounted her new horse and moved it into action, pulling the cloak's hood over her head.

The gates of Vharos were soon behind her, the morning mist veiling it in an air of mystery that will soon be replaced by the unrelenting sun. The white stones of the outer wall would greet visitors like they always do, watched over by the soldiers of The Ravens Watch.

The road ahead wasn't smooth, it was unremarkable. It wasn't a carved path, made by the architects and builders of the kingdom, but carved by hooves and wheels.

Her chest had already begun to feel taut and coiled, a knot of longing that tightened with every mile she traveled away. She expected it... She expected the feeling to overwhelm her, to incapacitate her, but it didn't... It wasn't something her father would allow, to grieve something that needed to be left behind... The feeling was temporary, he would say, but something one gets easily used to. She had a duty, one crucial to her role in this world, this kingdom.

The plains of Teranor stretched far in front of her, further than she could see. All that she passed so far was known to her from her travels, what she saw when her father took her with him. She tried to avoid the bigger cities, like Liora and Breno, choosing solidarity over the comfort of taverns and inns... It was almost midday, the sun was high and the scent of salt and wild rosemary had long faded from the air, now replaced by the scent of upturned soil and some wildflower she couldn't so easily recognize. It felt unnatural to be alone; to not be surrounded by people all the time... Serene in a way...

She first settled somewhere far away from houses, under a tree on the bank of river Caldra. It may have been late spring, but the waters were still icy cold, the currents pulling along with them whatever dared to fall in. It was pleasant to sit under a tree without worry, to bask in the sun and let the weight of expectation fall from her shoulders. She didn't bother eating, the hunger had yet to reach her. But the same couldn't be said for her horse... It grazed calmly nearby, seeming content with where it was. She looked at the animal, at how it too seemed to enjoy the sun, its warmth and light...

They soon had to continue their travels, keeping close to the river. It felt safer, calmer, hearing the water rush beside her gave her a sense of tranquility. The sun moved along with them, the light bending over the water surface until it gave way to night, the stars marking the sky above. Time passed quickly as they walked further away from the capital. Her eyes swept over the terrain, looking for a place to settle for the night. A small circle of trees caught her attention, looking like a good place to rest for a short while.

With her bedroll put out, her horse tied to one of the trees, she allowed herself to relax once more. She gathered twigs that fell from the surrounding trees, making a small fire in the middle of the clearing. She pulled out the rations from her pack, a small piece of bread and some cured meats and hard cheese, her first meal of the day... Her mind wandered now, memories passing through her mind...

· · ───•⋅⊰ ꥟ ⊱⋅•─── · ·

The old bench creaked beneath her added weight, the elders smiling at her excited face. They invited her to sit with them, to tell her stories of old. The founding of Vharos, of Teranor... The soldiers spoke to her of battles, knights of their travels with the Crown... Seamstresses of the dresses they made for queens and princesses, bakers of cakes and delightful little treats they made over the years. The architects spoke of the cities they've built, of the elaborate projects they completed in this city.

She took them in, listening in awe to the stories of the people who have been in this city, her city, for years.

˝This city, my fair little lady, will be yours... But not now, not anytime soon... But we all know, one day, you will care for us.... Fairly, righteously...˝ one of them said.

˝What a good queen you will be...˝

· · ───•⋅⊰ ꥟ ⊱⋅•─── · ·

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· · ───•⋅⊰ ꥟ ⊱⋅•─── · ·

Before the crown, there was the hand

Not gilded not lifted in decree but blackened, steady, unafraid to shape the world it would one day rule

Before the throne, there was the road

Worn not by kings, but by those who walked without witness who bent beneath and rose without permission

Some are born beneath a crown, its weight pressed into bone before they learn the measure of their own breath

Some are sent away from it... to earn what blood alone cannot grant, to stand among the unremembered and return as something more

And some...

some will look upon it not with hunger, but with knowing

And turn

For a crown is not a destiny

It is a choice...

taken, forged, or refused

Let the world remember this...

Not all who rule are crowned

And not all who are crowned were ever meant to rule

The sea keeps its silence The stone keeps its names

And somewhere, between them

stand those who are yet

Uncrowned

· · ───•⋅⊰ ꥟ ⊱⋅•─── · ·

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sfos_bakery

liked by user1, user2 and 621,543 others

sfos_bakery both our locations have been refreshed! both got some new colour and stuttgart even got a new seating area!!

user1 The Stuttgart location was already my favorite study spot, but that new seating area? I’m never leaving. ☕️🌿

user2 Found this place by accident today! Best brownie I've had in Germany!!

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y/nsweets

liked by kimi.antonelli, toto_wolff and 985,641 others

y/nsweets new member has joined the family!! welcome kimi!!! @.kimi.antonelli

kimi.antonelli thank you!! liked by y/nsweets

user3 and it is all too much for little kimi antonelli...

user4 she's just collecting these drivers like pokemons!! she's adopted them all

user5 singlehandedly expanding the Wolff pack fr

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y/nsweets

liked by lewishamilton, toto_wolff and 995, 347 others

y/nsweets mrs. Wolff at last... @.toto_wolff <3

toto_wolff my world... ich liebe dich <3

y/nsweets ich liebe dich auch!!!<3

georgerussell63 congratulations!!!

y/nsweets thank you georgie!

user6 he's signed so many important contracts, but this is the one that matters the most!<<33

user7 omg you're so right!!!

user8 that last photo!!

post 1

y/nsweets

liked by kimi.antonelli, georgerussell63 and 852,149others

y/nsweets My favorite view<3 and the mountains weren't bad either...

user9 UGH!! imagine having Toto Wolff as your personal ski instructor… I would 'accidentally' fall every 5 minutes

user10 ok but how is she actually this pretty in a puffer jacket?? i look like a literal thumb when i go skiing 💀

user11 fr like… leave some beauty for the rest of us pls. she singlehandedly outdressed everyone on that mountain lol

user12 mrs wolff era suits u SO well omg

user13 imagine being this rich and this hot i am actually going to pass away

user14 the way he looks at her 🥹 my heart

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sfos_bakery

liked by toto_wolff, y/nsweets and 785,243 others

sfos_bakery HELLO OXFORD! We are spreading like wildfire! A new location has just opened it's doors in Oxford, UK... The perfect spot to study or hold a gossip sesh, the choice is yours!

user15 WAIT OMG!! she opened up a new location right after renovating her other two!? ICONIC!!

user16 oh the pink in the story was a hint!! the interior is GORGEOUS!!!

user15 and it matches the other two locations perfectly... almost the exact same tiles just different colors!!

toto_wolff congratulations! ❤️

sfos_bakery thank you, boss man!!!

mercedesamgf1 congrats on the new branch, mrs. wolff!!

y/nsweets thank you, bebe!!<<33

georgerussell63 carmen and i are coming over next week!! congrats!!

sfos_bakery we can't wait to see carmen... you too, i guess... georgerussell63 brutal...

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sfos_bakery

liked by toto_wolff, y/nsweets and 963,156 others

sfos_bakery madame Wolff trying out new recepies for the Oxford spot!! @.y/nsweets

y/nsweets send me that second photo STAT!!!

sfos_bakery YES MA'AM!!

user17 omg toto is such a lucky man!!!

user18 RIGHT?! she can bake and is beautifull as HELL!! WHAT MORE COULD A MAN WANT?!

user19 are these going to be Oxford exclusive ooorr??...

user20 im assuming so...

toto_wolff my beautiful wife...

sfos_bakery aaww boss man, you're too cute... toto_wolff don't patronize me… especially since you still haven't explained how a professional manages to drop an entire latte on my lap... sfos_bakery oops...

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y/nsweets

liked by toto_wolff, lewishamilton and 989,957 others

y/nsweets CEO by day, my favorite person to annoy by night <3 @.toto_wolf

toto_wolff i’d let you annoy me any time of day❤️

y/nsweets love you too <3

user21 OMG they’re both so hot!! Literal power couple!!

user22 imagine going to a club and seeing these two… I’d turn and walk out cause there is no competing with these two!!😩

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The button-up shirt she wore felt far too tight. Her feet hurt from the heels she chose to put on. Cassandra's voice seemed to annoy her beyond belief, even though she talked in a whisper.

It was fifteen minutes before four, another book signing looming close. She could hear the chatter of fans and presses alike, making her dread going before them even more.

"Hey, J, we're starting a little early. Everybody is already here." Cassandra said, getting up from her chair. Jelena sighed, getting up as well, and turned to her manager.

"Cass, how many of these do we have left?" she asked, picking up her bag.

"3 maybe? I'm not sure... There are a few requests in my inbox, but we can stop at what is booked already..." Cassandra answered, turning to Jelena.

"Yeah, I'd like that... There is so much to do already, I want some time for myself... Go to the cabin maybe..." she said back, straightening her back before going in front of the crowd. She smiled and waved at the people. They cheered and clapped, the cameras flashed. Jelena, like always, felt exposed.

"And the author of 'The Godless Carnival', Jelena Esma Barlow!" The announcer said, before taking his place in the front row.

"Hello everyone, thank you all so much for coming. If you're here, it means you obviously liked the book..." Jelena started, earning a few chuckles from the crowd.

"Or alternatively, you want to know what kind of person would think of the things written in the book... But then again, you could ask that even if you did like it." She finished, the crowd laughing and clapping.

It took all of 20 minutes for Jelena to get tired of the situation. She understood them, of course. They have questions only she can answer, but nevertheless, it annoyed her.

"Hey, J, might wanna smile a little, you look like you might kill someone any second..." Cassandra whispered in her ear.

"Ah, I'm sorry... I'm just feeling a little off, that's all..." Jelena whispers back, shaking her head.

"Jelena, I can see... Wanna take a break?" Cassandra asked, lightly touching Jelena's hand.

"No, no... I'm fine. Just... let's get through this and..." she sighs.

"I'll go home then... Rest up for a few days."

"You sure?" Cassandra asks.

"Yeah, yeah..." Jelena smooths her hair back, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. Her hands shake slightly, something that hasn't stopped for a very long time.

The signing continued and Jelena's attention seems to wear thin with every second that passes. Cassandra noticed that, she noticed every time Jelena's gaze would shift to the back door.

"Jelena, please... You need a break... Let's just leave early... 10 minutes isn't going to ruin your reputation..." Cassandra whispered to Jelena. She shook her head.

"Cass... I need to finish this... I'd rather be here than rotting in my bed..." Jelena whispered back to her. Cassandra shook her head, surrendering to Jelena's stubborn nature.

"Miss Barlow!" a reporter's voice cut through the silent debate between the two.

"What can you tell us about the inspiration for your book. Were you inspired by the ongoing string of murders in the area?" As the words left his mouth Jelena stopped breathing.

"What murders?" she asked quietly, disbelief and something else evident in her voice. A lump formed in her throat and sudden tears brimmed her eyes, her body tensed up.

"I... I need to go..." She stood up, her legs shaky and weak. The chair she was sitting on fell behind her and her wobbly legs took her to the back door.

Her breath became shallower, shorter, until it felt like she couldn't longer breathe. The door closed behind her and her legs gave out. The tears that formed in her eyes finally fell down her cheeks and a sob wrecked her body.

"Hey Jelena..." a voice, Cassandra's voice, came through the door.

"The FBI is here to see you..."

a/n: next part is out! Let me know how you’re liking it so far and ask anything you want to know!

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The light of the candle flickered, the yellow tinge softening its shadows. Black ink stretched across the lines, gently moulding into cursive letters beneath her pen. The old clock, the one her mother insisted she take, quietly ticked in the corner.

Outside, rain poured onto the streets of Manhattan. People ran around frantically, trying to find shelter, to hide from the sudden downpour. None of it bothered her.

Her manicured hand wrote words faster than her mind could think of them. She just kept going. Word after word, page after page. It seemed as though the pen had a mind of its own, writing and scribbling thing that only ever seem to come at night.

The quiet soothed her. No loud noises, no nagging voices. Just her and the silence. Her and the sketches littering any available surface of the room. Her and the flickering light of two, almost burnt out, candles.

Her eyes slowly moved over to the large window. The rain, now slow and gentle, tapped against the glass, creating an irresistible symphony.

The calmness of the moment was broken by her phone. The ringtone wasn't particularly annoying, at the end she's the one who chose it. But in the calmness of the night, it sounded far too loud.

"What do you need Cass?" Her tired, soft voice spoke first.

"Jelena! We got the confirmation e-mail from Lincoln Center. Wednesday at 4PM." Cassandra's cheery voice rung out in Jelena's ears.

"Jesus, Cass! Quiet down," she whispered.

"That's good... I got time to get my clothes dry-cleaned. Come tomorrow around 9. And bring breakfast!" Jelena continued before ending the call with her manager.

A sigh left her lips. The meet ups and signings and the press were all taking a toll on her. She was exhausted from the interactions, all the talking and smiling.

Of course she was happy. Her latest book was doing amazing, the constant string of praises not ceasing even for a moment. But the anniversary was closer day by day, and Jelena could feel the heavy blanket of dread slowly coming down on her.

a/n: first few chapters are gonna be on the shorter side, so be prepared!

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"The shadows do not chase me.

They wait, patient and faithful,

for the moment I forget they are mine."

She remembered the sound of rain on the window more than the voices behind her.

Her parents were speaking in hushed tones, too soft for her to make out the words, but sharp enough for her chest to tighten. She sat at the piano bench, her small legs not yet reaching the floor, fingers hovering above the keys.

She was only seven years old, but the music had long since stopped being hers. Each note was a test, each pause a judgment. Her father's expectations, her mother's corrections, the weight of brilliance pressed against her tiny shoulders.

When the rain grew heavier, she played louder. Not for them... Never for them... But for herself. To drown out the silence. To feel something that wasn't fear or failure.

Later that night, when the house grew quiet, she crept back to the bench. In the dim light of a single lamp, she pressed her hands to the ivory keys, not to play, but to hold them, as though the cold smoothness could tether her to something real, something safe.

a/n: so a new series has begun, it’s been in the works for a while now, but I finally got the time to edit and refine the vision!!! Thank you for reading and feel free to comment and ask questions!!

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The warm light of the tall lamp illuminated the living room as pillows and blankets rustled and chairs scraped against the floor. Light giggles echoed through the room, while keys jingled outside the front door.

A soft thud and the scrape of shoes sounded in the foyer, before Toto's soft voice came.

˝Schatzi?˝ He asked hesitantly, slowly walking away from the door. His slippers glided across the floor as he made his way to the living room.

˝Schatz, where are you? Have you and Jack eaten yet?˝

˝We're in the living room!˝ Your voice came and as he rounded the corner, he was met with quite a sight.

You and Jack kneeling on the floor, sorrounded by heaps of blankets and pillows, some even brought from your bedroom. Jack's face lit up seeing his father in the doorway, quickly rushing to hug and greet him.

˝Papa! You're back!˝ He yelled and hugged him, making Toto smile and lift him up.

˝Hi, buddy... What's happening here. hm?˝ He asked, kissing his sons cheek. You stood up from your spot on the floor and walked over to the two.

˝Jack wanted to build a pillow fort so we could watch a movie once you came back...˝ You stood in front of Toto, one of your hands cupping his cheek. His free hand wrapped around your waist, his forearm pressing into your lower back, pulling you closer to him.

˝Really?˝ He asked, leaning down closer to yor face. You smiled and hummed an answer. Toto smiled back, gently pressing his lips to yours. A small sound of disgust came from Jack, before Toto pulled him close to kiss his cheek again repeatedly. You laughed at the show, your hand now resting on the one holding Jack up, the other gently massaging his shoulder. 

˝Want to help us, papa? So we can watch the movie sooner!˝ Jack's excited voice spoke. Toto laughed, deep and quiet.

˝Sure, buddy. Just let me get changed and I'll be right down.˝ He put Jack down and gave you one last kiss before he made his way to the bedroom.

Half an hour later, the living room was even more of a mess. Toto was sat on the floor, legs clad in a pair of plaid pyjama pants and sprawled out over the carpet. He rested his back on the couch, as your hands drew lazy shapes on his shoulders and arms. The fort was half built, one of the large blankets draped half way over the couch, while throw pillows served as makeshift pillars.

˝Papa, come on! We have to finish this!˝ Jack comanded his father, taking another pillow to add to the fort.

˝This isn't what I signed up for...˝ Toto whispered and you laughed.

˝Oh stop being dramatic and go help out our son…˝ You whispered in his ear, your teeth scraping his ear lobe gently. He groaned and leaned back into you, making your hands slide from his shoulders to his chest.

˝I'd rather be doing something else right now, Schatzi...˝ He whispered in your ear, making you shiver.

˝The sooner you help him, the sooner we'll be alone...˝ You said, pushing him forward. He sighed and went back to helping Jack.

A little while later, all three of you were lying in a heap of pillows inside the fort, the TV glowing infront of you. Jack was asleep on Toto's chest and you tucked into his side.

˝Schatz...˝ Toto's quiet voice sounded. You hummed.

˝I'll take Jack up to bed...˝

˝Ok... Come back then...˝ You answered quetly, stretching out. He smiled and kissed your temple, before getting up and walking away with Jack in his arms. The boy slightly stirred, mumbling incoherently.

˝Shh, buddy... We're going to bed now, ok?˝ Toto whispered and the boy nodded, nuzzling into his father's neck.

You sighed melting into the blankets and pillows, letting your limbs streatch as the please. Time passed and Toto hadn't returned from putting Jack to bed, making you frown. You didn't notice him walk in, until he spoke.

˝Please don't tell me I did something wrong.˝ He said softly, standing above you, looking at your frowning face.

˝You didn't return soon enough...˝ You pouted, making Toto smile. He slowly made his way towards you, only to drop to his knees, right between your legs. His hands slid up your calf, gripping your knee.

A little scream left your throat as he pulled you closer, your legs wrapping around his waist. He gripped your hips tightly, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

˝I can think of a way to make up for it...˝ He said, kissing your jaw and down to your shoulder. You giggled sliding your arms around his neck, tangling a hand in his hair.

˝I might just make you...˝You said with a smirk.

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November 1918

The war was over. Victory was ours. But as we sat in the trench, the celebration felt like a distant echo. The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder and damp earth, but now mingled with something heavier: grief. Around us, men cheered and sang, their voices rough and strained, their laughter hollow. But for Arthur and me, the silence was louder.

Arthur had draped his jacket around my shoulders, shielding me from the chill that seeped into the very marrow of our bones. My head rested against his shoulder, the weight of exhaustion making my eyelids heavy. His arm was firm around me, grounding me in a way that felt like an anchor in the chaos.

"Here," I murmured, pulling my last pack of cigarettes from my pocket. Opening it, I stared at the two remaining sticks. A strange pang hit me—loss, maybe, or just the realization that even something as small as this was coming to an end.

Arthur glanced down, his lips quirking into a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Last two, eh? You sure you wanna share?"

I chuckled softly, placing the box in front of him. "Take one, Arthur. It's not like I'll need it tomorrow."

He laughed, a deep rumble that made my chest ache in the best way. "Alright then, love. If you insist." He took a cigarette and lit it with practiced ease, then handed me the match. His smile lingered, a small comfort in a night that felt endlessly heavy.

As I lit my own cigarette, I found myself watching him. That smile of his—it had kept me going through the worst of it. His smile, his voice, the way he'd sit beside me in the quiet, even when words failed.

And now, in this fragile moment of peace, I realized something I had been too afraid to admit to myself before.

I loved him.

I loved Arthur Shelby.

The thought both terrified and comforted me. I drew in a deep breath of smoke, letting it linger in my lungs before exhaling slowly. My gaze drifted upward, to the night sky.

"Is this how you plan to spend the night, eh? In my arms with a cigarette in hand?" Arthur's voice broke the silence, teasing yet soft.

I smiled, leaning into him a little more. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to spend the rest of my life like this. Are you bothered?"

"Bothered?" he repeated, his voice filled with mock indignation. Then, softer, "Not one bit, love. Truth be told, I wouldn't mind either. Forever doesn't sound so bad."

I turned to look at him, my chest tightening at the way he was looking at me. There was something in his eyes—a warmth, a tenderness that I wasn't sure he even realized was there.

Before I could think better of it, he leaned down, his lips brushing mine in a kiss so soft it almost felt like a dream. For a moment, I froze, shocked, but then I melted into him, my hands coming up to rest lightly on his chest. His lips were rough, but the way he kissed me was anything but. It was gentle, almost hesitant, like he was afraid to break me.

When we parted, my breath came in short, uneven bursts. His smile faltered, replaced with a frown.

"Did I... did I do something wrong?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

I shook my head, a soft smile curving my lips. "No. Everything's perfect. You're perfect."

His eyes searched mine, and for a moment, the world around us faded away. "I love you, Monica," he said, the words so quiet they almost got lost in the night.

A lump formed in my throat, but I forced myself to speak. "I love you too, Arthur. So much."

We kissed again, slower this time, savoring the moment as if it would be our last. His hands rested on my hips, grounding me, while mine cradled his face. The kiss was broken only by my need to sneeze.

Arthur chuckled, his hand coming up to steady me. "You alright, love?"

"I... I have to sneeze," I said, trying not to laugh. "Your mustache tickled me!"

That earned a proper laugh from him, deep and genuine. "Well, if it bothers you that much, I could always shave it off."

"Oh, hell no!" I exclaimed, grinning.

A Few Weeks Later

The dock was bustling with activity, soldiers reuniting with their families, others boarding trains to return to places they hadn't seen in years. The war was over, but the scars it left behind were still fresh.

Arthur's hand rested lightly on the small of my back as we walked toward the train station. John was cracking jokes, his laughter carrying above the din, but it felt forced. Tommy and Freddie joined in, their smiles thin and brittle. It was all a performance, a desperate attempt to keep the grief at bay.

When we reached the platform, I stopped a few paces behind the others, my footsteps faltering. Arthur turned to me, his brow furrowing in concern.

"This is where we part, hm?" I said, my voice barely audible over the noise.

Arthur's face fell, his grip tightening on his bag. "Part? What d'you mean, love? You're not coming to Birmingham with us?"

I shook my head, my hands clutching the edges of my coat. "I can't, Arthur. I have to go back. My house, my pets... even the family that doesn't care about me. I left so much behind. As much as I want to stay, I can't just leave it all behind forever."

His hands moved to my hips, his touch both grounding and heart-wrenching. "Monica, listen to me. I get it, I do. You've got a life waiting for you. But... just promise me one thing."

"What?" I whispered, my voice trembling.

"Promise me you won't forget. Don't forget me, or what we had."

Tears blurred my vision as I looked up at him. "Oh, Arthur... I could never forget you."

He smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes, and I saw the tears he was trying so hard to hold back. "Good. That's all I need to hear."

We stood there for a moment, neither of us willing to let go. When he leaned down to kiss me, it was slow and bittersweet, a goodbye in the form of a kiss.

When we finally parted, our foreheads pressed together, I whispered, "I love you, Arthur Shelby."

"I love you too, Monica Winchester," he replied, his voice breaking.

He stepped back, slinging his bag over his shoulder. With a salute, he said, "Lieutenant."

I returned the gesture, my voice hoarse. "Sergeant Major."

Arthur hesitated, his eyes lingering on me one last time before he turned and boarded the train. As it pulled away, I stood frozen, watching him disappear into the distance.

Tears streamed down my face as I whispered to the empty air, "Goodbye, Arthur."

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December 1917.

The trench was unusually quiet, save for the occasional shuffle of boots or the distant echo of artillery in the cold night. Monica and Arthur sat together on his bedroll, a cigarette in each of their hands, the soft glow of the embers casting fleeting light on their faces. Smoke hung heavy in the air between them, mingling with the frost of their breaths. The silence wasn't uncomfortable; it was the kind of quiet that felt rare, almost sacred, in a place where noise often signaled death.

Arthur broke the stillness, his voice low and gravelly. "Are you thinkin' about somethin', love?"

Monica took a slow drag of her cigarette before answering, her voice steady but distant. "No, not really. You?"

Arthur smirked, turning his head to look at her. "About you, actually."

That made her laugh—a soft, unexpected sound that seemed to cut through the heavy atmosphere. "Oh, really? And what about me has you thinking so hard?"

Arthur's smirk widened as he leaned back against the dirt wall. "Just wonderin' how you ended up here, that's all. A perfect angel like you, in the middle of this hellhole, laughin' in a trench with a soldier's arm around you?" He chuckled, shaking his head as if the very idea amused him.

Monica rolled her eyes, though a small smile tugged at her lips. "Perfect angel? Hardly."

"You laugh, but I mean it," Arthur said, his tone dipping into something softer. "You're not like anyone I've ever met, that's all."

Monica stared ahead, her smile fading just slightly. She shrugged, trying to keep her voice light. "Let's just say life has a funny way of putting people where they're needed."

Arthur raised an eyebrow at her cryptic response but said nothing. The air between them shifted slightly, his curiosity piqued, but her aloofness made it clear she wasn't about to share more.

As their laughter quieted, the surrounding murmurs of soldiers grumbling about the noise made both of them chuckle. The brief moment of levity was welcome, but it didn't erase the tension that lingered beneath the surface.

The bitter cold bit through their uniforms as the night dragged on. Monica sat next to Arthur near the small fire that flickered weakly in the trench. A flask rested in her hand, and a cigarette dangled loosely from her lips. Around them, the men huddled together, trying to stave off the chill.

Monica had wrapped a threadbare blanket around her shoulders, the corner of which Arthur had tugged over himself. His hand rested lightly on her hip, not in any overtly affectionate way but in a manner that felt steadying, grounding—like he was trying to keep her anchored.

The silence between them stretched long, heavy with the unspoken weight of the past few months. Monica finally broke it, her voice quiet and tinged with melancholy.

"When Joseph was an old man, An old man was he, He married Virgin Mary, The Queen of Galilee..."

Her voice, though soft, carried through the trench, cutting through the cold air like a warm thread. John, sitting not far off, joined her on the second verse, his voice hesitant but earnest.

"As Mary said to Joseph, were walking one day, To an orchard of cherry trees, They happen to stray..."

Freddie's voice added to the harmony, low and solemn.

"Then Mary said to Joseph, so meek and so mild, 'Pick me some cherries, Joseph, For I am with child.'"

Tommy, leaning against the trench wall with a cigarette between his fingers, lifted his head and joined in, his voice steady and deep.

"Then Joseph flew angry, so angry flew he, 'Let the father of your baby gather cherries for thee.'"

Arthur's voice finally joined the chorus, rich and resonant, making Monica glance up at him. His eyes met hers, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of them, the song and the cold forgotten.

"Then spoke up Lord Jesus from in His mother's womb, 'Bow low down, cherry trees, bow down to the ground.'

And the cherry trees bowed down, bowed low to the ground, And Mary gathered cherries while Joseph stood round."

As the final verse rang out, their voices softened together.

"Then Joseph he kneeled down, and a question gave he, 'Come tell me, pretty baby, when your birthday shall be.'

'On the fifth day of January my birthday shall be, And the stars in the heaven shall all bow down to me.'"

When the song ended, there was a long pause, the weight of the moment settling heavily over them. Monica glanced at her watch, the thin hands pointing to midnight.

"Merry Christmas, everyone," she said quietly, her voice carrying just enough to be heard by those nearby. A few murmured replies came in return, some heartfelt, others gruff.

Arthur's hand shifted slightly on her hip, his fingers brushing against hers. "Merry Christmas, love," he said softly.

She tilted her head up to him, offering a small, tired smile. "Merry Christmas, Arthur."

Later that night, Monica and Arthur sat together again, tucked into a quiet corner of the trench. The others had dispersed, some to sleep, others to keep watch. Arthur passed her his flask, and she took a sip, the burn of the alcohol momentarily warming her from the inside.

"You alright?" he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

Monica shrugged, leaning back against the wall. "As alright as I can be, I suppose."

Arthur studied her for a moment, his brow furrowed. "You don't let much slip, do you?"

She gave him a sidelong glance, a flicker of amusement crossing her face. "Maybe I just don't have much to say."

Arthur chuckled, though there was no humor in it. "You're a mystery, Monica Winchester."

"And you're surprisingly thoughtful for someone who claims not to think much," she shot back, her tone light but evasive.

He leaned closer, his arm brushing against hers. "I mean it. You've got this way about you—like you're carryin' somethin' heavy but you're too stubborn to let anyone help."

Monica stiffened slightly at his words but quickly masked it with a laugh. "I think you're reading too much into it, Arthur."

"Maybe," he said, though his tone suggested he didn't believe her. "But if you ever feel like talkin', I'm here."

Her gaze softened for a moment before she looked away, staring into the darkness of the trench. "Thanks," she murmured.

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken words, but neither of them pushed further. They sat there, side by side, the warmth of their shared blanket and the soft glow of their cigarettes the only comfort in the cold, unforgiving night.

From a distance, Tommy and John watched the two of them.

"They've gotten close," John remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Freddie, seated nearby, nodded. "At least they've got someone to lean on."

Tommy exhaled smoke from his cigarette, his expression unreadable. "Let's hope they remember where we are. No one's safe here, and gettin' too attached... it's a dangerous game."

The others nodded in agreement, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. In the trenches, nothing was certain—not tomorrow, not the next moment. Yet, even amidst the chaos, the small moments of connection and understanding between them were a fragile thread of hope, keeping them human in a place designed to strip them of everything.

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August 1917

The trench was chaos as we scrambled back into its suffocating walls, the sounds of artillery and gunfire fading slightly behind the barrier of dirt and wood. My chest heaved as I pressed my back against the cold, damp earth, gasping for air. Arthur and Tommy were the last to jump in, dragging Nikolai's limp body behind them.

The moment I saw him, my heart dropped. They laid him down gently to the side, away from where the men walked, but it hardly mattered—his body had been brutalized. Nikolai was riddled with bullet holes, his uniform soaked in blood, and his face... I could barely recognize him.

I couldn't move at first, staring blankly at the horrific sight. Then, as the realization hit, a choked sob escaped my throat, and I fell to my knees.

"Nikolai!" I screamed, my voice raw and broken. I crawled to him, gathering his broken body in my arms. Hot tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision as I clutched him tightly.

The world around me blurred into insignificance. My cries echoed through the trench, piercing and heart-wrenching, but the men remained silent. They stood back, some with tears in their eyes, others looking away in discomfort, unsure how to comfort me.

I don't know how long I stayed there, rocking Nikolai's lifeless body. At some point, the sobbing ebbed into a hollow, aching numbness. I began to sing softly, my voice shaky and trembling, but the words were clear. It was a song Nikolai had written—a piece of home, of hope.

"When I go, don't cry for me, In my Father's arms I'll be. The wounds this world left on my soul, Will all be healed, and I'll be whole..."

The words filled the trench, the melody haunting in its simplicity. The American soldiers behind me stood at attention, their grief palpable in the heavy silence.

"Sun and moon will be replaced, With the light of Jesus' face. And I will not be ashamed, For my Savior knows my name..."

When the song ended, I pressed my forehead to Nikolai's bloodied chest, whispering a final goodbye. Slowly, I stood, my knees trembling under the weight of my grief. The soldiers saluted in unison, their faces solemn, before dispersing to give me space.

Only the Shelby brothers remained. Tommy and John gave me respectful nods and walked away, leaving me alone with Arthur.

He hesitated for a moment, then stepped closer, his boots crunching softly in the dirt. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice low and careful, as though afraid to break me further.

I shook my head, unable to form words. Tears spilled silently down my cheeks as I stared at the ground. Arthur placed a tentative hand on my shoulder, his touch surprisingly gentle for a man so rugged.

"How close were the two of you?" he asked after a moment, his tone softer now.

"Too close..." I whispered through trembling lips. My voice cracked, and before I could stop myself, I leaned forward, resting my forehead against his shoulder.

Arthur didn't pull away. Instead, he wrapped his arms around me, his rough hands pressing against my back as though trying to shield me from the pain. One hand moved to my hair, stroking it gently in a comforting gesture.

"He... he was like family," I choked out between sobs. "We met when I arrived on the ship. We bonded so quickly. He understood me in a way no one else did. And now he's gone. I let myself get attached... and now he's gone."

Arthur held me tighter, his embrace firm and grounding. "It's alright, love. Sometimes you can't help getting attached. You're human. It happens."

I buried my face in his shoulder, letting his steady presence anchor me. His hand slid to my biceps, his grip strong but not overbearing.

"You'll get through this," he said softly, tilting his head to catch my gaze. His thumb brushed away a stray tear from my cheek. "You'll be alright, pretty girl. You're stronger than this."

His words were meant to be comforting, but the way his voice dipped—almost tender—caught me off guard. I didn't register the shift in his tone, too consumed by my grief to process it fully. Yet his proximity, the way he held me, felt... different.

We stayed like that longer than we should have, the line between professionalism and something more blurring with every passing second. It wasn't until Tommy's voice broke through the moment that we pulled away.

"Hey, you two! We need you over here!" Tommy's call rang out sharply, snapping us both back to reality.

Arthur stepped back quickly, his hand falling to his side, though his thumb lingered on my arm for just a moment too long. He offered me a small, almost sheepish smile as I sniffled and tried to compose myself.

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice still shaky.

"You're welcome," he replied, his smile growing softer before we turned and headed toward Tommy and Freddie.

Later that evening, I retreated to a quiet corner of the trench, desperate for solitude. The grief weighed on me heavily, suffocating in its intensity. I sat with my knees drawn to my chest, staring blankly at the dirt walls around me.

"Mind if I join you, love?" Arthur's voice startled me. I looked up to find him standing over me, his expression unreadable but his eyes softer than usual.

I nodded silently, and he lowered himself to sit beside me, draping an arm over my shoulders as though it were the most natural thing in the world. The warmth of his touch was both grounding and disarming.

"How are you holding up?" he asked after a long pause, his voice low and almost hesitant.

I took a shaky breath, staring at the ground. "I don't know. I keep expecting him to walk in, to make one of his jokes... It's going to take time."

Arthur reached into his pocket, pulling out a match as I lit a cigarette. He struck the match and held it steady for me, the flame casting flickering shadows across his face.

"You're right. It does take time," he said, leaning back and gazing up at the darkening sky. "But you've got to find your way to cope. Bottle it up, and it'll only get worse."

I exhaled a plume of smoke, nodding absently. "I'll figure it out eventually... I think."

We sat in silence for a while, the quiet settling between us like a fragile truce. His arm stayed around me, and though it felt too intimate, too close, I couldn't bring myself to pull away. For the first time since Nikolai's death, the weight on my chest felt just a little lighter.

October 1917

Arthur sat on a stool, wincing slightly as I cleaned a small gash on his cheek. His hands rested on my hips, his fingers gripping lightly each time the sting of antiseptic hit.

"Thank you, love," he murmured once I finished, his voice soft but earnest.

I smiled faintly, tossing the bloodied cloth aside. "You're welcome, Arthur."

Our eyes met for a moment longer than necessary, and I felt the now-familiar spark of something I couldn't quite name. He squeezed my hips gently before letting go, stepping back to put distance between us.

"See you tonight?" he asked, his tone lighter now.

I nodded, my heart heavier than I cared to admit. "I'll bring the cigarettes."

"Good girl," he said with a grin, ruffling my hair before walking off.

As I watched him go, I couldn't help but feel that the lines between us were shifting again—and I wasn't sure how much longer we could ignore it.

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June 1917

The air was heavy with the damp scent of earth and sweat, the trench walls towering around us like the confines of a prison. Soldiers shuffled about, their faces smeared with dirt and fatigue. Despite their exhaustion, many cast sidelong glances my way—some curious, others clearly skeptical.

I walked beside Colonel Nikolai Miranda, keeping my expression neutral and my shoulders squared. Nikolai, as always, exuded calm authority. He was more than aware of the tension my presence created and made sure to project an aura that warned others to hold their tongues.

"Eyes forward, men," Nikolai barked at a pair of soldiers gawking too long. His tone was sharp enough to make them flinch and return to their tasks.

We'd spent weeks aboard the ship preparing for this deployment, and Nikolai and I had developed a mutual respect for each other. Despite my unusual circumstances, he treated me as an equal—a rarity, even in my time. I had grown to appreciate his professionalism, and while the soldiers aboard the ship had eventually adjusted to my presence, I knew the trenches would be a different story entirely.

As we wound our way through the labyrinth of mud and wooden planks, Nikolai and I approached a small group of soldiers gathered near a command post. Four men stood together, their conversation cutting off as we approached.

"Step aside, gentlemen. We're here to speak with your sergeants," Nikolai said, his tone firm but not aggressive.

The men turned to face us, their expressions guarded. One of them, a man with piercing blue eyes and a commanding posture, stepped forward. "You're the colonel, then?"

"That's correct," Nikolai replied. "Colonel Nikolai Miranda." He gestured toward me. "This is Lieutenant Monica Winchester. We're here to assist."

As Nikolai introduced me, I took the opportunity to study the men. The blue-eyed one had an air of authority, his stance rigid and his expression serious. Beside him was a man with tired gray eyes, a neatly trimmed mustache, and an older, weathered look that spoke of years of experience. Despite his age, he carried himself with a quiet intensity that was hard to ignore. The third man looked younger, his expression relaxed and his grin almost cocky, while the fourth man, who resembled the blue-eyed one in age, appeared more subdued but equally serious.

"I'm Sergeant Major Thomas Shelby," the blue-eyed man said, offering a handshake.

"John Shelby," the younger man said with a nod. "Cavalry, but I report to Thomas. He's my brother."

"Sergeant Major Freddie Thorne," added the fourth man, his voice level and professional.

Finally, the gray-eyed man stepped forward, his gaze sharp but not unfriendly. "Sergeant Major Arthur Shelby," he said. His handshake was firm, his voice deep and steady.

I returned each handshake, keeping my expression neutral and my tone measured.

"It's good to meet you all," Nikolai said, breaking the silence. "Lieutenant Winchester and I will be coordinating with you on the upcoming operation. She'll be staying with the troops to provide support."

Arthur's gray eyes lingered on me for a moment before he nodded. "We'll see to it that she's treated with the same respect as any officer."

The statement was professional, but his tone carried a hint of curiosity, as if he was still trying to make sense of my presence.

The sergeants led us deeper into the trench, pointing out key locations and briefing us on their plans. Their efficiency was evident, and I noted that the soldiers under their command seemed well-organized despite the chaos of war.

As we walked, I introduced myself properly, explaining my military background in broad terms. I avoided any mention of my true origin—no one but the American command knew the truth about my mission or the time machine that had brought me here. The operation was classified at the highest level, and Nikolai had been briefed to treat it as a standard deployment to maintain secrecy.

The conversation remained strictly professional until John, ever curious, finally broke the formality.

"If you don't mind me asking, Lieutenant, how does a woman end up as an officer? Nurses, sure, but I've never heard of a woman holding a rank like yours."

His tone wasn't mocking, just genuinely curious. I chose my words carefully, maintaining the narrative we'd crafted for situations like this.

"Well, it's a long story," I began. "I grew up on a farm, raised by a Ukrainian mother and an American father who was a Sergeant Major in the army. I worked hard, learned discipline early, and followed in my father's footsteps when I came of age. Over the years, I worked my way up the ranks."

John tilted his head, still intrigued. "You must've had to fight harder than most to get where you are."

I allowed a faint smile. "Hard work is the same for everyone, Sergeant. My training and determination got me here, just like anyone else."

Freddie, who had been listening quietly, spoke up. "Still, it's impressive. I've never seen anything like it."

Arthur's voice cut through the conversation, low and steady. "Impressive or not, she's here now. Let's focus on the mission."

I gave him a brief nod of acknowledgment. "Agreed. My role here is to assist, not to be a distraction."

We reached a quieter section of the trench, and I took the opportunity to pull out a small box of cigarettes. "Cigarette, anyone?" I offered, holding the box out.

Freddie, John, and Thomas each took one, while Arthur waved me off. "No, thank you. I prefer cigars."

I raised an eyebrow, allowing myself a moment of levity. "A refined gentleman, then."

Arthur's lips twitched in what might've been the hint of a smile. "Something like that. But I don't recognize the brand—'Marlboro,' was it?"

I lit my own cigarette, taking a slow drag before replying. "It's not surprising you don't. It's an American brand, not common here."

John grinned. "A whole box of smokes? You're already shaping up to be the most popular officer here."

Freddie chuckled. "No complaints from me."

Even Thomas allowed a small smirk, though he quickly masked it with a professional demeanor.

Arthur, ever the serious one, crossed his arms and leaned against the trench wall. "Enjoy it while it lasts. We've got work to do."

The camaraderie lightened the tension for a brief moment, but I knew it wouldn't last. As much as I wanted to earn their trust, I was acutely aware of the weight of my mission—and the secrets I carried.

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So now, as you felt the bed next to you dip, a groaned escaped your throat. An arm slowly wrapped around you and lips lightly brushed your neck. Turning around, you were met with your husband's smiling face.

˝Good morning schatzi...˝ he said and pressed a light kiss to your lips.

˝Please, tell me no one is sick...˝ you mumbeled. He laughed.

˝Not this year, love. Although I think Jack is sick of sitting in the kitchen alone, while I'm here waking you up...˝he said and started pressing kisses all over your face. You giggled and wrapped your arms around his waist. ˝Come on, Jack wants to show us something and we both have to be there to see it.˝ he said, pulling you up. You groan in protest.

˝Can't he come in here and show us...˝ you heard Toto laugh as he kept pulling you out of the bed.

˝Get up, schatzi...˝ he softly said as you stood up. He wrapped you in his arms, whispering in your ear. ˝Happy anniversary, love...˝he said, kissing your temple.

˝Happy anniversary to you, too...˝ you whisper, cupping his cheeks and pulling him in for a sweet kiss. You felt him hum against your lips, pulling you closer by the hips. The moment was broken by a shrill yell of both your names and you sighed. ˝As much as I love that kid, I sometimes wish we remained child-free...˝ Toto laughed and pulled you closer.

˝Don't say that... You know he's impatient...˝ he smiles into your skin.

˝Like his father...˝ You say, giggling.

˝I'm not denying anything... But, from what I remember, his mother was very impatient to get me to bed on our wedding night... Or any other night, really...˝ he teases and you smack him on the chest.

˝Such atrocities come out of your mouth when you are no different...˝you say, making him laugh. ˝Now, let's go see what our son needs from us, hm?˝ with one last kiss, the two of you make your way down to the kitchen.

The sight you were met with was beautiful. The kitchen island was filled with food and your son sat at the end, practically vibrating with excitement.

˝Mama, papa!!! You're up!!˝ he said, running up to hug you. ˝Happy anniversary, mama!! Papa explained to me this morning why it's important!˝he gushed as he kissed you on the cheek, smiling. You turned your gaze to Toto and were met with a soft expression. ˝Papa and I made breakfast! I helped with the eggs!!˝ he said happily, pulling you towards the counter.

You lifted Jack onto his chair and took your place at the counter. Toto placed a plate in front of you and you smiled at him. The waffles were shaped into hearts, and adorned with wild berries and cinnamon. He winked in your direction and you rolled your eyes.

˝What's the plan for today, hm?˝ you asked, taking a bite of your waffles.

˝I planned a photo shoot and thought we could go to the park a little... Then, your mother is picking Jack up and we are going out for dinner... Made our reservation a few weeks ago...˝ Toto said, sipping his coffee. You smiled. He turned to Jack and smiled at our son. ˝You said you had something to show mama and I something...˝ Our son smiled wide and jumped off his chair. He pulled out a piece of paper from his school bag.

˝SEE! I drew us at school! Here is papa, this is me...And here's mama!˝ he said with a wide, toothy grin. You smiled and lifted him up into your lap.

˝Look at you! You've gotten better at drawing honey. And you even managed to capture daddy's messy hair...˝ you kissed your son's cheek and looked up at your husband. He was smiling and shaking his head.

˝Good job, buddy. And don't listen to mama, she's just jealous of papa's perfect hair.˝ he moved to kiss your son's forehead, wrapping his arms around you both. You laughed at him, leaning up to kiss him. He smiled, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. ˝How about we get ready for our photoshoot, hm?˝

˝I think that's a good idea... You two get dressed while I do my hair and make-up, then I'll get dressed and we can leave.˝ you said, putting Jack down. You gave Toto another kiss and went into the bathroom.

After about an hour, you walked out of the bathroom, wearing one of your favorite dresses and a subtle pair of heels. You could feel Toto checking you out as you finished getting Jack ready.

˝Jack, isn't mama looking absolutely stunning, hm?˝ Toto asked as he wrapped his arms around your waist, lightly kissing your neck. Jack nodded vigorously, smiling wide. He laughed at his reaction, before whispering in your ear. ˝Can't wait to have you all to myself tonight...˝

You laugh at his suggestion, swatting at him.

˝Behave yourself... And stop crinkling my dress!˝ Toto smiles and moves away.

˝Ok ok...˝ he mumbles, leaving a light kiss on your neck.

The pictures were perfect—absolutely perfect. Jack's smile blinded anyone who looked at them, and Toto and you looked as gorgeous and in love as always.

After the shoot, the three of you made your way to a fancy brunch place Toto picked out saying: 'It would only be right if we went out and had a little snack while we're dressed up'. It was located in the middle of the park, surrounded by beautiful trees and colorful flowers. Jack got waffles and a hot chocolate, a little treat for being good at school. The two of you had coffee and a piece of cake to share, something you have done ever since your first date. It confused your son as to why you two had to share a piece, to which you smiled and told him 'He'd understand later'.

At home, your mother waited for you to return. She made herself coffee, took some of the waffles from the morning, and turned on her favorite show to watch.

˝I see you made yourself right at home, hm?˝ you giggle as the older woman turns to you. She smiled and stood up, hugging you once she came close enough.

˝Of course I did. Happy anniversary, my sweet girl... And you too, Toto...˝ she hugged Toto as well. She turned to Jack who ran into her arms. ˝And my handsome young man! How've you been, Jackie, hm?˝ your son giggled and hugged her, starting to ramble on about school and new kids he met. As he spoke, your mother subtly moved to the front door, winked at you, and left without a word.

˝So? Are you going to get ready for dinner?˝Toto asked and you looked down at your dress. He smiled. ˝I would suggest you change into that pretty red dress I got you to wear recently... It'll be more fitting...˝ he moved closer to you, grabbing your hips and kissing your neck. You hummed and raked your fingers through his hair.

˝I will if you let me go...˝ he chuckled at you and let go of his tight grip on your hips, letting his hands linger. You smile, making your way to get ready for the second time that day.

A little while later you walked out, red carpet ready. The wine red dress, black heels and sharp makeup... Toto was stunned. He knew you'd look gorgeous, but this was... Something extraordinary.

˝Mein Gott, schatzi... I don't even want to go out now...˝ he said, awe struck. You giggle and walked over to him. He grabbed your waist and smiled down. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you get on your tip toes and kiss him, his hands sliding down to your ass. You gasp, smacking his chest.

˝Toto!˝you say and move away from him. He huffs and smiles at you, grabbing both your coats. You stand with our back to him as he helped you get the coat on. Making your way to the car, Toto held the door open for you as you stepped into the Mercedes.

At the restaurant, he reserved a table in the corner of the balcony, looking over the vineyard. The candles on the table glowed romantically, casting a warm light onto your faces. Toto smiled warmly as you looked on over the railing.

˝Enjoying the view, love?˝ he asked softly, a hand coming closer to rest on yours gently. You turn your head to him and smile.

˝Yeah... I don't remember the last time we had any time just for us... Or the last time we celebrated our anniversary...˝ you answered and Toto laughed.

˝Remember when we did this once a week?˝ he asked and you laughed, tilting your head down.

˝Yeah... Can't believe that we came down to going on dates once in a blue moon... But I'm happy...˝ You say, smiling softly. Toto brings your hand up to his lips, leaving a soft kiss just as the waiter came with your wine. You giggled and thanked the waiter. ˝I love you, Toto...˝

˝I love you too, schatzi...˝ he smiled and kissed your hand once again. You smiled at him as well, moving your hand to cup his face.

The two of you spent the evening feeling more relaxed than ever, finally having a moment to properly talk. Everything was the topic. Work, friends, annoying family members... After dinner, you went out for a walk.

˝You know what this reminds me of Toto? Our first date...˝ you reminisce and giggle. Toto's laugh rings out, his head thrown back.

˝Mein Gott, I completely forgot what happened that night...˝ he whispered. He looked over at you and his eyes went wide. You giggled at him, seeing his reaction.

˝I was waiting to see if you would spill wine on my dress again... The red dress, vineyard date, a walk in the part after... trademark Wolff date... I didn't want to say anything to see if you'd realize... Seems you ARE getting old...˝ you laugh and stand in front of him, still holding his hand. He gasps and starts laughing.

“You are only 4 years younger than me, that makes you old as well!” Toto said, making you laugh.

The two of you soon reached the pond in the parks centre. The moon’s reflection shimmered on the waters surface, the air was crisp and the crickets created a subtle noise in the background. You shivered and Toto immediately wrapped his suit jacket around you.

“Can’t have you catching a cold now, hm?” He said, kissing your head. You smiled and shuffled closer into his side.

Your brows furrowed as you felt something hard press into your waist. You backed away and put your hand into the inner pocket of his jacket, pulling out a velvet box. You looked up, only to be met with your husband, smirking down at you.

“Open it, schatzi…” he said quietly. Your manicured fingers fiddled with the little latch and as the box opened, it revealed a beautiful silver necklace with light green gems.

“Toto…” you whispered and felt his arms wrap around you.

“Happy anniversary, my love…” he whispered back and lightly placed his lips on yours, capturing you in a gentle and loving kiss.

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