#blenkintravers

[blenkintravers]

The Decemberists- The Soldiering Life

Submitting because this song makes me think of Blenkintravers every time I hear it. I've wanted to write a fic based on this song for so long, but since I'll probably never get around to it I'd like to see what the rest of the fandom can come up with.

(also can we take a moment to imagine Blenkinsop and Maltravers dancing together like the guys at 1:58? because i think we should.)

[blenkintravers]

"Would You?" by...er...me

Read it here or on the HH Anon Meme

AN: If I've done my calculations correctly (and I almost certainly haven't), this fic should be exactly the right word length to make the Blenkintravers word count 100,000 words. Word count: 873 Rating: G

It was a big day today for Blenkinsop. His older sister, Eliza, was getting married to a marvellous chap who he knew would make her very happy. It was a few hours before the ceremony started and he was already dressed in a fine, dark-blue suit that had belonged to his father, full of pride and fluttery nerves.

Maltravers was attending the wedding--Eliza wouldn't have dreamed of not inviting her brother's best friend. Blenkinsop was coming to his house in the early morning so that they could go to the chapel together to help with the preparations. He'd put on his suit as he waited--one of a sleek grey colour which was little close-fitting for his liking--feeling happy for his friend and somewhat disheartened at his reflection.

Blenkinsop wouldn't share his sentiments, however. When he saw Maltravers as he walked into the living room, his breath was taken away. The fair golden hair was shining in the sunlight, the face of such soft features was in a glorious profile, the suit making him look the most dashing man he'd ever seen. "Maltravers..." he said quietly.

His friend turned to him and gave him a wide smile, then walked over and pulled him into a hug. "You must be so proud, dear chap. She'll make a beautiful bride."

Blenkinsop hummed in agreement. He returned the embrace, the image with which he'd been struck not leaving his mind. He tried to express himself again. "Maltravers, I..."

Maltravers pulled away slowly with a look of inquisitiveness that he had always been fond of. "What is it, dear chap?"

"I think you look...absolutely spiffing," he admitted, lightly running a hand down Maltravers' cheek. "I wish that I could marry you."

His eyes widened and he looked away a little shamefully, realising that his tendency to say things without thinking was getting the better of him. "I'm sorry--I didn't mean--"

"No, no, don't say that. I would in a heartbeat if I could, Blenkers. Surely you know that."

Blenkinsop was almost hesitant to meet his eyes, but he did and gave him a shaky smile. He could feel tears just slightly starting to form and he shook his head to try and dispel them. "Eliza's been so thrilled about this, about being able to marry the love of her life. She hasn't stopped talking about it since he proposed. It...made me think...about what could be..."

Maltravers couldn't stand to see his best friend acting like that. He pulled Blenkinsop down and kissed him, chaste and short but full of feeling. "You would make the most wonderful husband," he remarked, keeping their faces close with his hands in Blenkinsop's hair.

"Thanks, old bean," he said with affection. "We can only say 'would', though. We don't have the chance for anything more."

"That doesn't matter. We have each other, don't we? We'll always have that. Come on, now, why don't we cheer you up by taking the chance we do have?"

Blenkinsop looked at him with confusion, eyebrows tilted upwards in an expression he'd often had since he was a child.

Maltravers smiled encouragingly. He moved his hands down to grip Blenkinsop's arms and only had to look at the puppy-like face and that one curl of brown hair to convince himself to speak. "If you could: Would you, my dear Blenkers, take this podgy man who would join the army and go to hell for four years to keep you safe...as your lawfully wedded husband?"

Blenkinsop raised his hand to his mouth for a short time in a moment of speechlessness. He looked at Maltravers searchingly, then nodded and he said, "I would."

His eyes were bright with unshed tears; Maltravers cupped his cheek and swept his thumb across the corner of his eye. He felt insatiably proud, as if they really were allowed to marry, as if such a notion wasn't ridiculous and they didn't have to hide from the world, even when they were most scared and in need of comfort in the depths of grime and mud and pointless fighting. Perhaps that was because there was just the two of them here. No one was around to say that it was sinful. They were in their own fantasy, a world of 'woulds' and 'coulds' that meant nothing to anyone but everything to them.

"Would you... my best friend, my Maltravers... take a bumbling fool who doesn't understand anything except how much I care about you to be your--your husband?"

Maltravers tried to keep his gaze strong because he could see how those tears were still making Blenkinsop's eyes glisten--making them even deeper and easier to lose himself in--as he answered, "I would."

He wrapped his arms around Blenkinsop's neck and he felt hands grasp his suit as they simultaneously made the distance between them vanish to give into a kiss. There was none of the confusion of their first kisses, none of the desperation of their stolen kisses in the trenches, but all the same intensity of emotions as they moved their lips together.

Finally, Blenkinsop allowed them a break to say "I love you" breathlessly and was breathlessly answered in turn.

"Come on. We have a wedding to go to."

[cancersyndrome]

So i decided these guys needed a collage.

[mrmaltravers-blog1]

Because he’s lost the most important thing to him, the most important thing in the world, and how can anything be fine when the only thing you have left of the love of your life is a field of poppies as red as his blood as he sprawled in the mud and choked and thrashed and died?

Anonymous, http://hhanon.livejournal.com/3552.html?thread=2566624

[hh-exchange-blog]

Introducing the HH Exchange

We are running an exchange for fic based on the characters or the cast of Horrible Histories.

Anyone who signs up will be given another participant to write for, and will have six weeks to write a complete story of at least 1,000 words for one of their requested ships. In return, you'll get a 1,000 word fic for one of the ships you requested. Nominations for ships (both romantic and platonic!) are open now, and signups will open August 9 and close a week later. Fics are due October 1.

Interested? Check out the rules and FAQ and the nominations guide for more information.

[blenkintravers]

Well, I happened to find that an absolutely spiffing URL was being left unused, and I thought I really must do something about that.

So, I've created a Blenkinsop/Maltravers blog! Fics, gifs, graphics, art, anything to do with either of these old tops goes on the blog.

Now, I'm not very experienced in running a dedicated blog, so if people want to leave their suggestions, I'd be absolutely delighted for the help. And if I ever slip up in crediting authors, especially from the HH Anon Meme, I'll need you lot to poke me into correcting whatever I've gotten wrong.

I'm pretty sure it won't take too long for me to run out of content for this blog. I'm trawling through the internet for stuff, but if people want to add their content to the Blenkintravers tag, that would be good, even if it's only headcanons or links to anything you've found. Don't be afraid to poke me into posting more if I stop for long periods of time and you miss it! I'll do my best to find new things or create my own stuff if you do.

I'd also like to take suggestions about whether I should review the fics I post, though I don't know how good at that I'd be. Terribly unconfident about giving people criticism, really. As well as that, I'll be trying to include a well thought-out tagging system, so give me suggestions about which tags would be good to use about fics or parts of the sketch or miscellaneous things.

If you want to know my incredibly boring plan for tagging, read on.

(By the way, I'd like to point out that the URL 'blenkinsop' is also being unused. Good opportunity for a role play blog, no?)

Firstly, split into two primary sections, sketch and fan made. Sketch then splits off into gifs; graphics; stills; quotes; behind the scenes. Fan made is split into friendship and romantic. I don't know how good my distinguishing will be--right now I'm thinking kisses (and further physical intimacy), mentions of attraction to each other, love, and, counter-intuitively but it's usually done with romantic intention, flustered denial of a relationship, constitutes romance. Sections of fan made include thoughts; fiction; art; Twitter. Fan fiction is sorted into genres via angst; fluff; smut; AU; first meeting; hurt/comfort and into time periods via pre-war; during war; post war and assorted. If there's any ever call for including more genres, for example comedy or adventure, I'll add them as they come. Besides that, posting about a single character is, rather simply, split into Blenkinsop and Maltravers.

[bigfootismyonlyfriend]

There, But For the Grace of God, Goes I - A Blenkintravers Fic

Blenkinsop and Maltraver's are probably my OTP, but I'm in a cranky mood here is something short and rather rushed and sad and yup sorry

Everyone knows about the house on the hill. The one that is constantly dark, boarded up. If it had belonged to any other man, there was quite a high chance that it would be a source of adventure, mystery and ridicule. However, since everyone did know who lived there, it was left alone.

The singular resident in the house was Colonel Blenkinsop. A war veteran and a hero. Not much was really known of the man - he'd moved into the house barely a year before the war with another man. Maltravers, his name was. They had it tended with a beautiful garden, honey suckle covering the walls and a general light feel to it. Everyone had guessed that the two men were more than just friends, but nobody mentioned it. They just turned a blind eye.

When the war had come, both men had left for the front line. Nobody knew all that had happened, but Blenkinsop had come home alone, and the house had fallen into disrepair.

The garden was now dirt, and the honeysuckle had long since withered. The house itself was run down, in desperate need of a lick of paint. Many of the younger members of the community, those too young to quite understand the part that Blenkinsop had played in the war, too young to have seen him before it all, suggested that they make him remove the eyesore. Change it to something more pretty. But none of the town would mention it.

So it remained untouched. Every now and then Blenkinsop would emerge, usually to go and buy food. But he never talked to anyone, apart from mumbling a 'thank you' to whoever he bought the food from.

And many walked past the old house, an odd feeling of sympathy in their guts. Girls who had had their partners go off to the war and come back safely, boys who had managed to avoid the front lines, all people who could have easily been in that situation, would walk past and think the same thing.

But for the grace of God...