CHAPTERS: Night 01. | Night 02. | Day 03. | Dusk 03. | Night 03. | Epilogue
Hello, friends! @bukkun-moonsin and I collaborated on a thing for her original Rose AU work and a list of headcanons became a chapter and a chapter became a 10-page intro to something we didn’t expect ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) But well, here we are!
Warnings include us trying to keep these people in character without sacrificing important plot lines, dubcon (but it depends if we go around it properly pls pray that we do haha), and some gay near the end of the whole work.
These extra chapters center on Goyong’s redemption arc of sorts, as he tries to fulfill Rusca’s last wish. He travels on horseback to Cagayan, to tell Paco’s wife what happened in Cabanatuan. (Link to the tag!)
Night 02.
If he were in charge of this household, Del Pilar really wouldn’t let Juliana do any more chores. But she insisted in washing his uniform to make up for his kind deeds the day before. She still even couldn’t look him straight in the eye because her screams roused him from his sleep last night. He held her in his arms as her tears poured endlessly from her heart, her nightmares full of blood and gunshots and images of a dead husband.
All the more Del Pilar couldn’t break the news.
Instead, he spent time with the Román children where Juliana did her laundry at the nearby river bank. Carmen was very fond of him, while Juan asked him about life in the camps and his travels. And of course, Kuya Eduardo.
The kids are worried about you, Dodong. If only you could see them. If only talking about you wasn’t as painful.
He carefully avoided questions about him. Even remembering hurts.
“Mama hasn't smiled like that in a long time.”
The little boy sat beside the general, Carmen’s head resting on the older boy’s lap. Del Pilar had been chasing children all morning. His eyes turned to the small lady thoroughly washing his uniform. He frowned. He felt bad for not telling her yet.
“Really?”
But if she hadn’t been this happy in a while, he’d rather stall.
“Yeah, she misses papa a lot. She still gets bad dreams about him every night.”
He thought he was doing Rusca a small favor.
“Like last night? Is she like that every night?”
The boy nodded. He was doing Rusca a huge favor.
“Mama likes you. I think you remind her of papa, that’s why she’s like that.”
Del Pilar laughed.
“I think it’s just because I’m wearing your papa’s clothes.”
Juan was perceptive for his age, he thought. He does sense a bit of fondness from her, like her daughter. Except Carmen was more direct and outright adorable about it. Not that Juliana wasn’t adorable, but he’d rather not think about it.
“Will you be here for a long time?”
“I doubt it. I have work to do. But I’ll try to visit.”
“That’s what Kuya Eduardo said, too.”
Perhaps getting shot by Americans would have been easier than this, Dodong.
The sun was setting again, and Juliana had just finished folding the remaining clothes she washed and ironed this morning. They had an early dinner, care of their visitor, and he was already getting the children ready for bed. Juliana was thankful today was not like other days, when things were hard to deal with because the tears wouldn’t stop. Every nook and cranny of the house had Paco’s essence, and it was hard to cope without him for longer months without replies to any of their letters.
She sighed as she finished arranging the clothes in their aparador, her dresses and sayas stacked neatly beside her husband’s unused shirts. His scent was still there.
“Francisco… Please come home soon… Or at least write back. Paco, mahal, your children miss you so much. So so much…”
Outside, Del Pilar was leaning against the door. He was just about to knock and finally tell her, but he decided against it. He just listened to her lullaby as she sobbed into one of Paco’s shirts.
Juliana opened the door after a while, and caught the general just standing by. She immediately rubbed her eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry! How long have you been there? I should have—”
“It’s all right,” he interrupted. “This is your house, ginang. I’m just a visitor.” Del Pilar couldn't bear seeing any girl being sad, especially someone like Juliana. So he cupped her face and wiped her tears with his thumbs. He may have renounced his playful lifestyle, but the romantic in him will never leave. He took an unembroidered handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to her, “Something to get you by, ginang. Please use it.”
She replied with a small nod, and wiped her face with the piece of cloth. It took her another minute or so to compose herself, but he waited in front of her just in case she fainted again. Her sniffles eventually lessened and she tucked her hair behind her ear. But before she could give another anticipated apology, Del Pilar spoke.
“Do you need help with those?”
He gestured towards the stack of papers she held. Letters from Román? She held them tighter. Or for Román?
“Um… I just needed to arrange them before I keep them. The children wanted to send them when Eduardo arrives… But maybe you can send them instead?”
Shit.
“Sure.” The lie, if it ever was, tasted like poison on his tongue. Sharp, like the sting of needles, and the taste of the sap that trickled out of roses when petals were plucked out.
He forced a smile on his face, and wondered if that was what Román always tasted when he talked of his wife. The thought of it made his gut twist, and discreetly, he tucked his rose behind his back, where the ginang could not see it curl up in shame.
Luisa had strolled the remaining of her travel to the Román household after the wheel of the karitela she was riding went loose. The driver apologized and told her he would fix it quickly, but she insisted she needed the exercise.
Why is there a white horse outside the yard?
Driven by instinct, Luisa cautiously opened the front door and made sure she wouldn’t make the slightest noise. If she needed to use force, a basket full of fruits should be enough to help amplify the strength of her hit.
Juliana was arranging pieces of paper in the living room. Is she… smiling? Her giggling was a new melody to Luisa’s ears. Señora seems so happy, I wonder what—what!
Beside her was a familiar general, in Señor Román’s clothes! And he was also… smiling… and laughing with Juliana, his hands brushing against hers as they sorted and read through the letters. In Luisa’s eyes, they seemed to be too close for comfort. They had been exchanging friendly banter and the general gently nudged Juliana by the shoulder with his own, making Luisa grit her teeth.
Even until here?! The nerve!
As the maiden stomped her feet towards them to make her presence known, Juliana turned to her and stood up, her hand in Del Pilar’s.
“Señora.”
The ginang quickly pulled her hands to her side.
“Luisa! We… um… we have a visitor.”
“I can see that, señora,” her words sharp like the shards of the broken lampara she’d hit the general with if he tried anything stupid. “It’s getting late, maybe he should be on his way.”
Del Pilar stood beside Juliana, stack of paper in hand, smirk slowly gracing his face. “This is General Del Pilar. He’s staying with us for a while to rest—”
“I’ll be leaving tomorrow for Ilocos, actually.”
Juliana looked at him, he just nodded. “Luisa, leave early tomorrow so we can have a hearty lunch and an early dinner before the general leaves.”
Luisa’s face had nothing less than a scowl, her blood pressure shooting up the moment Del Pilar placed a hand on the ginang’s shoulder. “You don’t have to do that for me,” Juliana placed her hand over his.
“I don’t want you to leave hungry.”
The maiden coughed. Juliana lightly pushed the general’s hand off her shoulder.
“Señora—”
“I will be retiring for the evening, you can leave the fruits and vegetables on the kitchen counter. Good night, Luisa.”
The ginang looked again at Del Pilar, but he insisted on carrying the letters for her. Juliana was first to climb the stairs, and the general followed, his hand climbing to the small of her back to assist her. If glares could burn holes, Luisa had already left several holes on the general’s hand. Maybe even set fire to his rose.
That evening, it had been Luisa who attended to Juliana when she was jolted awake by her nightmares. Del Pilar could only peer through the slightly open door from the corridor.
Am I missing something?
The maiden held both of Juliana’s hands tight, as her señora rested her head on Luisa’s bosom. Each droplet of tear was a knife to Del Pilar’s heart.
She seems different than I remember.
Juan was also woken up. But he just hugged his mother, urging her to calm down. He repeated his words lazily as routine had tired him so, “Papa will come home. Don’t worry about him, mama. Go back to sleep. Nanay Luisa will look after us.”
CHAPTERS: Night 01. | Night 02. | Day 03. | Dusk 03. | Night 03. | Epilogue
Hello, friends! @bukkun-moonsin and I collaborated on a thing for her original Rose AU work and a list of headcanons became a chapter and a chapter became a 10-page intro to something we didn’t expect ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) But well, here we are!
Warnings include us trying to keep these people in character without sacrificing important plot lines, dubcon (but it depends if we go around it properly pls pray that we do haha), and some gay near the end of the whole work.
These extra chapters center on Goyong’s redemption arc of sorts, as he tries to fulfill Rusca’s last wish. He travels on horseback to Cagayan, to tell Paco’s wife what happened in Cabanatuan. (Link to the tag!)
Night 01.
It was quite a windy afternoon in Alcala. But despite that, Del Pilar took his hat off and wiped the sweat off his forehead, his rose petals swaying in the wind and shivering in the cold. He had been travelling for days on horse, accompanied by a small group of ten, assigned once again to deliver news. Bad news.
“Col. Francisco Velasquez Román was killed in Cabanatuan 7 days ago. In… action? While protecting Luna…? How do I… hmm.”
The young general rehearsed the lines in his head. He personally had to make sure the late colonel’s wife should be able to take the news, Rusca asked him to. Along with the favor were some trinkets and a letter for the kids. The kapitan had promised to visit and play soon. He needed to apologize for another broken promise.
(But then again, Rusca was dead. What was sure of a promise falling heard on dead ears?)
“The things you do for love,” Del Pilar whispered. He’d be a liar if he said he never read Rusca’s letter. It was a long travel and he was curious. Promises of traveling the hacienda by horse and playing by the river near the Román household were only a few of the listed things the children wanted to do. He wondered if Rusca would be like that towards his own kids, not that he would have kids. He shook his head at the thought.
“Heneral, I think we’ve arrived at the correct house.”
The young general wiped his forehead once more before putting his hat back on. “All right, at ease.” He got off his horse and fixed his uniform, looking to his aide for assurance.
“You look fine, Goyong,” his aide sighed. Col. Vicente Enriquez was just as tired as any soldier on a week’s journey. But Del Pilar regarded Vicente’s sudden slip of the tongue as a slow cooking opportunity to annoy him.
“Enriquez.”
“Sir,” he sighed again. His petals, a mild peach, curled in on themselves in fatigue.
“Nothing. I’ll talk to her by myself. Wait for my orders outside their yard.”
“Yes, sir. Hopefully, it’s just a talk, ha?”
“What was that?”
“We’ll wait outside, Goyong.”
The general made his way to the front door with a prideful smile. Just a talk, he said. Hopefully, he can end this quicker than he should. Maybe he could charm his way out of it? After all, who had even resisted the wiles of the charismatic Gen. Gregorio Del Pilar? Since Poleng, of course. But that was for another discussion.
He cleared his throat and knocked on the door. “Tao po?” No answer. Vicente was in charge of looking for the right house, and he’d be in trouble if this were the wrong one. He waited for a while longer before knocking again. “Tao po..?” A few minutes later, there was a quiet shuffling of footsteps. He fixed his hat and dusted his epaulettes, ready to flash his signature smile. The general was greeted by a small cough and a tiny creak of the door.
“Yes?” A dainty woman answered his call. She looked too pretty to be a helper, but seemed too young to be a colonel’s wife. Beads of sweat framed her face, and her pink lips were quivering. Is she nervous?, he thought. But she was pale and shaking. The rose on her wrist—a beautiful bright red of the lovely senyoritas he wasted time chasing after in his youth—was tightly closed, quivering.
“I’m looking for Juliana Piqueras. Does she live here?”
“Oh,” she coughed, “I’m Juliana,” her eyes skimmed over his brooches and shoulders. “General?”
“Del Pilar,” he answered.
He raised an eyebrow, impressed. She knows. He gestured to ask if he could come in, and she stepped aside to let him pass.
The house was small and quaint. One wouldn’t think it was the house of the owner of the couple hundred hectares he traveled through to find it. But it was definitely Román’s house, very reflective of his character, too. The muebles were made of thick wood, Molave? And the spaces were intimate and simple. There was an altar by the stairs, and some photos of the late colonel smiling with his wife. Del Pilar frowned.
“Um, ginang,” he began, reminding himself that in her knowledge, she was still married. “Would it be all right if—ginang?”
Juliana was grabbing onto a nearby table when he looked back at her. “Ginang!” Her limbs had given way by the time he reached the late colonel’s wife, her body shaking in his arms as her consciousness slowly slipped. Shit, fever. The general took out his handkerchief, one without embroidery, and wiped the sweat on her cheeks.
“Fran… cisco…”
“She’ll be fine, Kuya Goyong. Don’t worry too much, it’s just a slight fever. You haven’t even done anything yet, what more if you tried wooing her?”
Vicente was met with a light jab on the arm, “Oh, shut up. Where are the others?” His aide laughed, the general didn’t even try denying.
“They’re outside with the kids. They seem to be having fun.” The two soldiers looked out the window, their men’s heads adorned with various flowers and plants. The little girl, Carmen, had been making them laugh with her cute dances. The soldiers sang as her brother, Juan, played guitar.
“Seems like it. Well, I’ll handle it from here. Take them to the town outside the hacienda, I’m sure you can find good homes that will accommodate everyone.”
“You're staying here?”
“Someone has to take care of her. I’ll take responsibility.”
“Pfft, as if that's the only thing you’ll take.”
“Oh, get out of here!”
By the time Juliana woke up, the sun had already set. In a panic, she jolted from the bed and rushed to her children’s room. The sudden action caused her a headache, but she paid it no mind. To her relief, the kids were already asleep, tucked in and the bedside lamp unlit.
She went downstairs to confirm her weird dream. A general in khaki had come to her house, but after that she remembered nothing else. Like how she got in the master’s bedroom. By the altar, she peered into the living room.
In the sala, the general sat with his leg across the other. His cap was on the side table, his profile illuminated by the lamp beside him.
“General… Del Pilar..?”
The soldier looked up from what he was reading. It was last week’s periodical.
“Oh, bin—ginang. You’re awake. Sorry I didn’t bother waking you. I cooked dinner for the children, and tucked them in after they ate. Carmen needed a good book but Juan was quick to sleep.”
The young woman nodded, with as much hesitation as any woman towards a stranger in her own house. But he also seemed… harmless… as much as any military man with the initiative to cook for someone else’s children and tuck them in bed.
“Ah, there’s some food left. I was just waiting for you to come to. Would you like to join me, ginang?”
The entire duration of the dinner was quiet. The general even gave her some medication and an extra glass of water. Not once did he let her stand up. He was answered with simple nods and smiles. He finished eating ahead of her, and he took that time to observe the late colonel’s wife. Her wavy black hair framed her pale face, color slowly coming back to her cheeks as she recovered from the fever. Her movements small and the way her hands held the cobiertos spoke to him. Her lips were a soft pink, and her smiles made her eyes crinkle. In the candlelight, she was more beautiful, and her rose—oh, her rose was magnificent.
Román made a mistake.
Juliana looked up, catching the general staring at her, and averted her eyes immediately. “Ah, I’m sorry! I know it’s rude to stare but… I couldn’t help it.”
“I’m married, general.”
Her ring glistened in the dim light. Del Pilar couldn’t help but smile sadly either.
“I know.”
A terrible mistake.
“But please, ginang. Let me take care of you and the children. I just need a place to rest before my men and I leave Cagayan.”
Juliana hesitated. Del Pilar was alone, he explained, but he did not seem to bear any ill intentions. His men were in town a short horse ride away. And her aide Luisa? She won’t be home until tomorrow.
“I… suppose…”
Ay, thank God. He gave a sigh of relief and finally flashed his signature smile. She averted her eyes again. The ginang was no longer pale, as the blood rushed to her cheeks. Del Pilar chuckled.
After the plates were washed, Juliana left one on the table along with a pair of cobiertos. She stayed at the dining area staring at the plate for a while longer before finally turning her attention to her visitor. The general was mindful enough not to ask. The ginang then led Del Pilar to her room, which he was already familiar with since he carried her there this afternoon. He thought he might have wrongly presented his intentions. She was a woman who was alone in her house and she had just deliberately taken him to her bedroom. It was already deep into the night and there was nothing that helped them see but the candlelight. Is she going to..?
“General, you can borrow my husband’s clothes. And you can use this room to rest. I’ll sleep with my children.”
Maybe not.
“You can leave your uniform by the door outside so I can wash it in the morning. Um… please, sleep well. Thank you for taking care of us.”
