#loyalitct

          “Helen.” The door opens and Daniel walks in, and if he was worried about  her reaction, perhaps he shouldn’t have been as she -... well, she seemed to barely register who had just came in. 

Their team had suggested he be the one to go in, and although there were many reasons why Danny argued why he shouldn’t, ultimately, they had won out, and here he was. He feels uncomfortable as he decides to sit next to her, and he rubs the back of his neck. This woman...a second mother to him, family...

Grief was a terrible endurance under normal circumstances but the death of the young Thomas Smith and the conditions and reasons of it were utterly barbaric and no parent should ever be expected to not only hide such loss but seem happier for it. He had not approached for a number of months, the risk had been far too high for him to do so, but as the months trickled by, he was able to find his window of freedom.

Used to grieving widows, mothers and others, Albert had maintained his distance until Helen appeared ready to acknowledge him, though he had been anticipating hostility, he had not been expecting the question that came and what tension he had held in his shoulders for his nervousness of even approaching her seemed to slip away. In his arms was a bundle of flowers, white roses, delphiniums and red rhododendrons. “No I am -not lost, Mrs -Smith.” He said softly, though there was no smile on his face, it was not right to smile for such a scene.

“you betrayed my trust.”  she ought to scoff at that. the whole world had betrayed her. her very own father had betrayed her mother, sent her straight to the grave because of his devotion to the reich. devotion should be to a person and for a man that was to his wife and child. their vows spoken during a time when man was free and expected to care for the woman he loved until either departed the earth. vows that now were not uttered. 

evelyn makes no sound at helen’s words. she could rise from the bench and phone the authorities. have her taken away and arrested if she so chose to do so yet helen smith remained beside her. separated by pea gravel that covered the earth. hands still for a moment, pausing in the bag of bread that she had brought to the park to feed the ducks. such an innocent action, one that fueled the visage she maintained. dutiful daughter, obedient and proper to those who only dared to look on the surface. little did they know the rebellious thoughts she had, of the actions she had taken to make a change. 

the brunette swallows as a hand tosses small pieces of bread to the ducks who have gathered at her feet, her head turning to look to the woman. she’s known her her entire life. had seen her children grow from bundles of joy wrapped in blankets to who they had become now. "i don’t wish for this to seem like a betrayal. if you truly believed that our conversation would have ended.” 

An eyebrow arches in surprise. Helen hadn’t met someone as ballsy as Mairead, and to say something such as that to the Obergruppenfuhrer’s wife. As for Helen’s answer, she supposes it will be obvious what she’s to say.

“If they’re criminals against the Greater Nazi Reich, of course.” If Mairead had expected something different, she would be sorely disappointed. “Why, is there someone you know you should report? If so you’ve come to an incredibly convenient person.”

“Oh no,” Mairead answered, forcing her voice to soften, to hide the bitterness from her previous comment, a comment that was perhaps rather out of line, given her present company. “My father...He served in the First World War”- a lie- “and, I think my brother asked him, when we were young, if being a soldier was the same of being a murderer, and that was his answer, that it isn’t murder if they deserve it.” 

It was strange, to think of her father’s words now. Not in the context of the First World War, but the Tan War, which both her mother and father had fought when they were but Mairead’s own age now. It was strange to think that his words would have relevance for both sides that Mairead belonged to, though she still wondered if her position on either side made her guilty of murder.

          “Well hello, darling.” Georg begins, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he closes the door behind him. 

“Sorry I’m a little late. I got held up a little longer in the office than I would have liked. Everyone’s got their mouth running lately; I don’t know if anyone is even WORKING.”

Days like these often played on Helen’s mind; perhaps that’s why she had already written her will—John too, in case they had the unfortunate occurrence of dying by the Resistance’s hand. That, or someone from Berlin took the opportunity.

Public transport had never been Helen’s favourite mode of transport. She preferred to walk when she could; as much as her job was keeping a house and raise her children, Helen also enjoyed time to herself when she could. She understood now why John always seemed to concern to see her arriving at his office unaccompanied.

So she sat, staring at her reflection in the U-Bahn window. “I have a family to feed. The shopping doesn’t do itself.”

          Her  heart  thumps  in  her  chest  far  too  hard,  ringing  in  her  ears  as  she  sits  next  to  her  target.   God,  she  hates  this,  but  she  daren’t  say  no  to  the  people  she  worked  for.   Yes,  it  was  disgusting  that  she  would  be  as  afriad  of   the  ‘good  guys’  as  the  bad  ones,  but  what  else  can  she  do?   She’s  new  and  it  would  be  a  bit  before  she  could  get  anywhere.   She  would  just  stand  her  ground  and  say,  “No,  you move,”  but  all  they  seemed  to  want  with  the  woman  was  to  ask  her some  questions  then  let  her  go.

     Everything around her still felt so foreign, from the buildings to even what was in the grocery stores, it seemed as even the slightest push would turn her world upside down once more.  It has been only a week, but Juliana felt no more at home than when she first arrived.  Learning that they completely wired up her apartment certainly didn’t help her unease, so she found herself walking through the neighborhoods and even making a few excursions into the city.  Her walks were useful though... if anyone watched her, they should assume a trip out to meet with George Dixon was the same as a trip to visit a park, that nothing was going on worth checking out.

     On one of her walks, she realized that she’d actually walked further than she thought and she stood in front of the Smiths’ home.  In another world, she knew she’d like them and actually want to be friends, but in this one, they frightened her, knowing they would turn on her in a heartbeat if they knew why she was here.  But to make it... to even have a chance of getting things under control, she needed their help, especially Helen’s, even without that near order to get close to the family.

     So, she found herself on the doorstep, bell rung, waiting for someone to answer, glancing over her shoulder nervously as she teased her bottom lip.  There wasn’t a reason to be nervous though... she even had a legitimate question...

Send 💀 to betray my muse

  The difficulty when it came to meeting someone one did not really know too well was that no one was ever quite sure what it was that they truly felt and what loyalties, plans and failsafes they might have had in place should they decide they did not like their company. Albert had approached Helen in a second attempt to extend friendship in the hopes that she might be willing to glance documents her husband brought home or could pass on names of new faces that turned up at the parties she and John would be invited to.

  It seemed, at least to him, that their second encounter was going rather well, he had brought a small cuddly toy rabbit for Thomas, simply because he thought the baby might like something to hold if he woke up alone. It felt like it had been a welcomed gesture and as the King talked quite willingly about what it was he thought was possible, explaining that though Britain was occupied, Albert sought to first protect those that would agree to help it. He was honest in his responses, drank the glass of wine she had given him and for the first time since he had been forced to flee, he felt hopeful that there might be some progress.

  All hopefulness dropped away when a series of cars pulled up outside the house and a string of uniformed men appeared from their doors. Helen’s completely calm composure was all he needed to understand that she had tipped them off, assured perhaps that in doing so that neither she nor any member of her family would be punished for interacting with him.

  There was a strange cool rage within him as he said quite clearly and directly to her, “Helen, what have you -done?” It was a clam expression, hurt certainly as his hope crippled away for what he knew lay ahead as the footsteps hurried to surround the exits. Words he thought might haunt her, perhaps she had not listened when he had explained his role, that he might have lost Britain to the occupation but he was King of many more countries than just the United Kingdom, that the Commonwealth could not yield without his say so, that there were still people he was protecting right across the globe.

  He said nothing after that and as the door opened and the rush of boots hurried to where they sat, Albert stood calmly and without prompt but did not take his eyes from Helen, this was the women who he believed doomed what freedoms were left elsewhere in the world. He straightened his jacket, glanced to the men that had entered and then without any word from them, he moved to walk with them back out of the house and towards the back of one of the cars. Looking to that kitchen window as he was gently set into the back seat and the door closed for him.