A/N: It’s Day Two of May Trope Mayhem by @duckprintspress and I’ve never felt so inspired to write! Today’s prompt is War Setting so you get a WWII AU Brienne x Reader fic, because why not! (thanks to @weemssapphic for our historical AU talk, that made me buckle down and write). As always, link to AO3 in title below.
Disclaimer: I didn’t have the time to properly research this, so there might be historical inaccuracies on technical stuff like how war hospitals were organized etc. Disclaimer # 2: I seem physically unable to keep my fics under 1000w, blame the angst, not me.
Tags: War, WWII, Hospitals, Wounds (not graphic), Talk of Death, Talk of Bombing, Smoking, Second-person Narrator, Angst, Breakups, Angst with a Happy Ending, No use of Y/N.
Fandom: Game of Thrones Pairing: Brienne of Tarth/Reader Wordcount: 1258w
It’s not too late if we’re alive
Any day that passed, you knew it could happen. You were at war after all. Day in and day out the battles raged, and humans fought against other humans, machines against other machines, metal ringing against metal, their screams loud in the smoke-filled air.
They fell in troves. Some made it to you, others weren’t so lucky. And you knew that Brienne was there in the trenches, amongst her soldiers, leading them, the first woman to ever serve in the British Army, the first one to rise to the rank of officer.
Every time you woke up from your fitful slumber, every time a wounded soldier was brought in for treatment, you prayed not to recognize her on the stretcher, not to see her cornsilk hair matted with blood underneath the helmet. One day your prayers went unanswered.
“Chief Nurse! Hurry! It’s the lieutenant-general!”
After all this time, her figure was still so achingly familiar to you as the litter bearer brought her in, her long limbs limp on the stretcher, soot and blood marring the uniform she was so proud of.
Up until now you had managed to avoid her, only catching glimpses of her when she came to visit the wounded, but now here she was, bare inches away from you. She was still beautiful, even with the inevitable traces of time and war. It took all of your strength not to reach out and brush your fingers against the soft skin of her jaw. You shouldn’t.
After all, the last words you had exchanged had not been the friendly sort.
*
“Will you at least promise me you’ll come back?” you had asked. She had already donned her uniform, and the coarse wool scratched your palm as you put your hand on her elbow.
“You know I cannot promise you that.”
“But I love you.”
Her face had hardened, as it always did when you told her how you felt. You had told yourself that she was simply unused to being loved. But a dark voice within you was starting to ask whether it was because she was ashamed of you, or frustrated with your clinginess. Whatever the reason, she never said those words back.
“You shouldn’t say those things so lightly.”
“Just because you refuse to accept my feelings for you doesn’t mean that they are not real.”
“You are young, but you were never naïve. This was never something that could last.”
You had been young at the time, true. You had never experienced heartbreak before. Even the simple act of breathing sent searing pain through your chest. Your eyes had filled with tears, and your mouth with rage.
“Is that all it was to you? Just something to keep you entertained between wars?”
She had not dared to answer you. To this day, you still wondered why. Was it because it had been more for her as well and she didn’t want to lie to your face, or was it because she didn’t want to admit that she, Captain Brienne of Tarth, paradigm of righteousness, had used you for your affection just for as long as she had needed a warm body?
You had been young at the time, and first love is never easily forgotten. Even if unrequited.
*
“Is God so unmerciful then?” The sudden sound of her voice in the silence of the officers tent almost made you drop the bandages you were carrying. You turned to her, wondering if she was growing delirious due to the high fevers she was running. But her eyes, wide and feverish though they were, were trained on you, with razor-sharp focus. “Have I not atoned for my past mistakes with my deeds? Why must He torture me with cruel visions?”
Oh.
She thought you were a fever dream, one sent to torture her. You pretended it didn’t hurt. It shouldn’t have, not as much as it did. Not even if she had been your first love.
Your only love, corrected a voice inside of you that sounded a lot like your younger self.
“Lieutenant-general, I am not a vision. I am merely the chief nurse. You should try to rest. You have been injured on the battlefield.”
“Is…is it truly you?”
“It is. But I am only here to treat your wounds, not to dig up the past.”
“How are you alive?”
“How is anyone alive these days? Luck, probably.”
“I thought you died in the Coventry bombing.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I sent you letters, and you never answered. I came over last year, but nobody could tell me anything about you. Our house was nothing but a pile of rubble. I thought…”
“Oh, is it our house now? I don’t recall you showing any particular attachment to it when you left.” She was surprised at your vitriol, you could see it in the way her deep blue eyes widened, and in the uncharacteristically hesitation in her answer.
“Darling, I-“
You suddenly felt ashamed of how easily her mere presence could drag out all of your pain, making you feel like that day on your doorstep, watching her walk away, her military boots crushing your heart with each step.
“There are no darlings here. It’s Chief Nurse if you need to address me. But right now, I don’t have time for idle chatter.”
You turned away from her, leaving her behind as she did to you so much time ago.
*
She found you some days later, as you were trying to enjoy the luxury of a short smoke break hidden behind the hospital barracks. She was still limping, but her skin had lost most of its sickly paleness, and she looked even more like the Brienne you used to know. The Brienne you used to love.
“How did you end up becoming a nurse?”
“I was told to do something useful with my life since I refused to marry. I did.”
“You…refused to marry?”
“Lieutenant-general, I hardly think…”
“Brienne. It’s Brienne to you. It’s always been.” You committed the mistake of looking up into her eyes, and instantly felt the irresistible pull they had on you. As if she had never left. You averted your gaze angrily and took a deep drag from the cigarette in your hands, trying to center yourself once again.
“What is your purpose here, Brienne?”
“I thought I had lost you, and I thought I would never be able to tell you. Seeing you here, alive, accomplished, breathtakingly beautiful, it…it felt like a second chance I never deserved to have.”
“Tell me what?”
“Not a day goes by that I don’t regret walking away from you. I’m sorry.”
The unexpectedness of the apology took you by surprise and you turned to her, only to find her much closer than you expected. The words you were thinking of saying died in your throat as you drowned in the maelstrom of feelings within her eyes. She hesitatingly reached a hand over to cup your cheek, as if afraid you’ll suddenly disappear, and her voice was low and broken with a heartache you instantly recognized. It was twin to your own.
“I love you. I always have. I’m sorry I’m only telling you now. I know it’s too late.”
Her eyes swam with tears, and her face was suddenly getting closer and closer. You reached with a hand behind her neck and pulled her even closer, whispering against her lips, as if it was a secret meant only for her and her alone.
“It’s not too late if we’re alive.”
Liked it? You can find all of my fics on my fanfiction masterlist!
Adelheid (Heidi): Come on my love, you can do it! Come to Mama!
Victor: They’ve blocked me entirely out of the Southern Sea, they’ve cut off trade with us and Newcrest, they’ve arrested my entire family… that bitch has got it coming for her.
Heidi: Look, Nanny! She’s going to try it!
Nanny Helga: Her Royal Highness is certainly advanced for her age.
Victor: Adelheid, would you be quiet? I’m trying to strategize.
Heidi: But look, my love, Greta’s already walking!
Victor: You are walking her. And in my office no less.
Heidi: I wanted us to spend time as a family. We’re not bothering you over here- Oh good job, Greta!
Victor: You are bothering me, with your annoying baby chatter. Children are not meant to be seen until they are old enough to engage in conversation with. Aren’t you listening to what I have to deal with? That Simsdom bitch has captured my entire family- my heir!
Heidi: You have a new family now, maybe we’ll have an Empress Margarette next.
Victor: That’s enough. Nanny, take the child away. I don’t wish to see or hear it.
Nanny: Yes, Your Majesty.
Heidi: It? That’s your daughter, Victor.
Victor: I’m well aware, as you keep shoving her in my face. But you don’t seem to be aware of the stakes- implying that I would hand my throne to that child?!
Heidi: You said that the line of succession now goes through our children first-
Victor: Our sons. Do you really think I would demote my first wife, and all of our heirs, including two healthy men, just to give my throne to a girl? From a second wife?!
Heidi: But, Victor-
Victor: If you do not produce a son, you are of no use to me, and I will cast you off like I have done Agathe. Do you understand? I need sons- that’s it!
Heidi: What’s it?
Victor: I’ll call on Isabella Bray. She has given me two fine, strong, sons.
Heidi: Who’s Isabella Bray?
Victor: My mistress. I’ll marry her, and legitimize our sons, and then I’ll have doubled my heirs overnight!
Heidi: But… What about me? Will she become Empress now?
Victor: Yours is not to worry about my decisions. Yours is to produce heirs. I’m going to call Isabella, you will go straight to your room. I’ll visit you tonight. You’ve had enough rest, and we need sons.
Dormi sepolto in un campo di grano
You sleep buried in a wheat field
Non è la rosa, non è il tulipano
It's not the rose nor the tulip
Che ti fan veglia dall'ombra dei fossi
That are watching over you from the shadow of the moats
Ma sono mille papaveri rossi
But it's a thousand red poppies
Lungo le sponde del mio torrente
Along my river's banks
Voglio che scendano i lucci argentati
I want to see silver pikes descend
Non più i cadaveri dei soldati
Not the soldiers' dead bodies anymore
Portati in braccio dalla corrente
Taken in the arms by the running water
Così dicevi ed era d'inverno
You were saying so and it was winter
E come gli altri verso l'inferno
And like the others towards hell
Te ne vai triste come chi deve
You're going, sad as those who have to
Il vento ti sputa in faccia la neve
Wind is spitting snow on your face
Fermati Piero, fermati adesso
Stop yourself Piero, stop now
Lascia che il vento ti passi un po' addosso
Let the wind move a bit more over you
Dei morti in battaglia ti porti la voce
You carry with you the voice of those who are dead in the battle
Chi diede la vita ebbe in cambio una croce
Who gave life got a cross in exchange
Ma tu non lo udisti e il tempo passava
But you didn't listen and time was passing
Con le stagioni a passo di giava
With seasons at java dance's rhythm
Ed arrivasti a passar la frontiera
And you arrived to pass the border
In un bel giorno di primavera
In a very nice spring day
E mentre marciavi con l'anima in spalle
And as you were marching with the soul on your shoulders
Vedesti un uomo in fondo alla valle
You noticed a man at the bottom of the valley
Che aveva il tuo stesso identico umore
Who had your same mood
Ma la divisa di un altro colore
But the uniform of a different color
Sparagli Piero, sparagli ora
Shoot him Piero, shoot him now
E dopo un colpo sparagli ancora
And after one shot shoot him again
Fino a che tu non lo vedrai esangue
Until you'll see him washed out
Cadere in terra a coprire il suo sangue
Fall on the ground to cover his blood
E se gli sparo in fronte o nel cuore
And if I shoot him in his forehaed or in his heart
Soltanto il tempo avrà per morire
He'll have only the time to die
Ma il tempo a me resterà per vedere
But I'll have the time to see
Vedere gli occhi di un uomo che muore
To see the eyes of a man who dies
E mentre gli usi questa premura
And while you gift him this kindness
Quello si volta, ti vede e ha paura
He turns, sees you and gets scared
Ed imbracciata l'artiglieria
And embraced the artillery
Non ti ricambia la cortesia
Doesn't gift you back the courtesy
Cadesti a terra senza un lamento
You fell on the ground without a sound
E ti accorgesti in un solo momento
And you got aware in a single moment
Che il tempo non ti sarebbe bastato
That time wouldn't have been enough
A chiedere perdono per ogni peccato
To ask for forgiveness for each of your sins
Cadesti a terra senza un lamento
You fell on the ground without a sound
E ti accorgesti in un solo momento
And you got aware in a single moment
Che la tua vita finiva quel giorno
That your life was ending that day
E non ci sarebbe stato un ritorno
And there wouldn't have been a comeback
Ninetta mia, a crepare di maggio
My Ninetta, to die in May
Ci vuole tanto, troppo coraggio
You need a lot, too much courage
Ninetta bella, dritto all'inferno
My beautiful Ninetta, right to hell
Avrei preferito andarci in inverno
I'd have rather go in winter
E mentre il grano ti stava a sentire
And while the wheat was listening to you
Dentro alle mani stringevi il fucile
Between your hands you were holding your shotgun
Dentro alla bocca stringevi parole
Inside your mouth you were keeping words
Troppo gelate per sciogliersi al sole
Too iced to melt under the sun
Dormi sepolto in un campo di grano
You sleep buried in a wheat field
Non è la rosa, non è il tulipano
It's not the rose nor the tulip
Che ti fan veglia dall'ombra dei fossi
That are watching over you from the shadow of the moats
Ma sono mille papaveri rossi
But it's a thousand red poppies
The two men at the door led him to a large open room,Cosmo tried to take in as much as he could but he couldn’t see through his tears. He knew he wouldn’t leave the bunker alive.
They dumped him in front of the man in charge and the villager’s daughter while he continued to plead for his life. He’d never sobbed as much as he did while waiting for them to say something.
Suddenly he felt himself being dragged over to a chair and was commanded to sit. Images of torture and those horrible Victorian executions he’d read about flooded his mind, they were surely going to kill him now.
To his surprise, the villager’s daughter spoke.
“I have a proposition”, she said
Cosmo stayed silent so she continued, “You will work for us”.
Cosmo knew that saying no was not an option so he nodded his head while his tears dripped down to his uniform.
To all those who have been seeking distraction from the horror going down in Europe in the last few days: this will be a safe site. I will not post much but if I do, it will be the usual content. My mental health is rather stable at the moment compared to the past, but I need a safe place. And I want to provide that to others, too who maybe can't bear all that is going on right now.
However, my conscience and sympathy with the Ukrainian people forbid me not to address the current events at least once. I will put a trigger warning on all related posts. If you're in a place where you can't deal with seeing even more news about it, please
Caleb is a native to the isles of Elmore. A place once home to many different kingdoms and nomadic tribes that existed in an uncertain state of piece enforced by an organisation called the Bardr Ky (An religious council formed of representative from all of the Isles religions formed with the intention of trying to solve hostility between nations without violence.) and a loose isles spanning alliance known as the Quorum of the Sapphire throne.
This loose alliance and religious council maintained an uneasy peace on the isles until the Old empire’s invasions. A unwillingness to act quickly on the part of the Quorum and the Bardr Ky along with an technological advantage in favour of the empire resulting in a large part of the isles falling into imperial control.
With the resultant war ending up in a status quo, the Quorum (reorganising itself as the Free Isles alliance headed by the Quorum of the High Queen) managing to hold Elmore Isles heartlands while the empire kept them from retaking anything lost.
Time quickly began to result in a number of things. The border solidifying between the ‘colonial territories’ and the ‘Free Isles’, Imperial and native cultures beginning to unify and become something...different in the colonial territory from culture in the free isles. An uneasy, unofficial peace reigning between the empire and the free isles only occasionally being broken by war.
This state of affairs continued until a time known as the fracturing when Kaidwyran emperor Faustus V was assassinated leading to his three sons causing a civil war in their fight for the throne. This chaos allowing for the Colonies to break away and form their own kingdoms.
It was into one of these kingdoms Caleb was born.
[I’m debating on whether or not to add a few more of these posts, use this as a master post and maybe update it with links and stuff to different worldbuilding posts, would that be of interest?]
