Wick, Chapter 9
Title: Wick
Author: accio_cowbell
Rating: PG-13
Chapter: 9
Characters: Anna, Melchior (and Thea!)
Summary: Three years after Wendla’s passing, Anna and Melchior find each other and form a new connection.
Preview: Melchior flinches. “Marriage?” he scoffs, “Where does it say we must wait for marriage? The Bible?”
Author’s Note: This chapter is definitely one of my favorites- I love writing about their conflicting beliefs and how they try to deal with them. Also, y’alls who have been requesting ‘certain things’ best be satisfied with what I’ve got here. :|
Oh my gosh, I’m totally joking. <33 Enjoy and please comment!
“Your parents were wondering where you’d run off to,” Thea explains slowly, blinking away what she swears is only rainwater from her eyes. “Your mother especially. I told her I would fetch you.”
“Oh, goodness,” Anna breathes, releasing Melchior’s hand as she steps out of their shelter and towards Thea. “I am truly sorry, Th-“
She takes two steps back, looking at Anna with a pained expression in her brown eyes. “I shall tell her that you are fine and will be home soon.” Thea refuses to look at Melchior, who has followed Anna outside. “-You look well,” she says, staring at the ground.
“I am. A-as do you, Thea,” Melchior replies, feeling more awkward than he has felt in a long time. He sees Anna out of the corner of his eye, knowing she is searching for some way to explain all of this. (He wishes to take her hand and give it a comforting squeeze.)
“Thea, I do not know what to tell you,” Anna admits sadly, suddenly recalling how Thea spoke so admiringly of Melchior. She glances between the two of them and feels an overwhelming guilt surge through her.
“Mariana was right all along!” Thea spits out, glaring now. “She said she thought you weren’t around much nowadays because you were sneaking off for… for this! I told her she was being silly and you would never…!”
“Thea-“
“I won’t say a word, Anna, I won’t, but you… you think about what you both are doing! You think about the sin--”
Melchior tries to cut in. “We-“
“Good day!” And Thea is off.
Anna starts after her, but Melchior catches her arm. “Let her go, Anna.”
“But, Melchior!”
“She won’t tell,” he says, pulling her to him and gently grasping her shoulders, “She is upset, but she will not tell.”
Anna bites her lip and looks away from him. “I hadn’t realized we were a secret until now,” she mumbles, “I don’t want to keep you a secret from my parents!”
Melchior smiles, looking bemused as she pushes a wet curl from her forehead. “But isn’t an illicit courtship thrilling?” he jokes.
“Melchior Gabor!” Anna exclaims quite seriously.
“….yes?”
She looks up at him and laughs at his shocked expression. “Is this a courtship, you and I?” she wonders, for that makes it all the more thrilling.
“I would say so, my lady,” is Melchior’s gallant response. And he steps back to give an equally gallant bow, looking quite silly with his floppy, wet head of hair, soaked to the bone.
Still, Anna laughs again, absolutely delighted. “What shall I call you?”
“Melchior is just fine. A ‘sir’ would be terribly strange for me. ‘Lady’ fits you, however.” (Melchior cannot believe that he is the one spouting off such romantic phrases, but when he looks at her, he means it.) He kisses her hand.
+++
“I refuse to let you walk all the way home in this storm,” Anna says sternly, not releasing his hand.
“Well! Where shall I stay, then?”
She chuckles. “My playhouse?” (Her father is, after all, a carpenter.) “Oh, it’s quite small, but we’re all quite proud of it. Papa even added a small fireplace Leisel and I used to play so much here, but now I use it when I need peace and quiet and- I really must stop prattling on.”
With a chuckle, he kisses her forehead. “Lead the way.”
+++
Once the fire is started, Anna leaves to quickly alert her parents of her well-being, rattle off a hurried excuse, and change into a dry dress.
She hurries through the yard, careful not to dirty her lavender dress. Hugging the blankets to her chest, she ducks slightly as she passes through the smaller doorway. And that is when her jaw drops.
Melchior has hung his shirt and undershirt on a chair by the fireplace and had been prepared to undo his trousers. “Hello.”
“I-I-I…” Anna swallows hard and, Good Lord in Heaven, forgive her, for Melchior Gabor, resident radical (her suitor?), is standing before her without a shirt. She finally averts her eyes and silently hands him a wool blanket.
“Thank you.” He cannot help but smile, smirk even, but his hands leave his trousers and he stands before the fire to warm them. (Not that it would be so difficult in a one-room playhouse.) “Are you alright, Anna?”
“Fine!” she squeaks, “perfectly fine!” She sits in a tiny chair as demurely as she can, fixing her gaze on her folded hands.
“Well, Anna,” he slowly approaches her, “you know it’d be quite uncomfortable if I sat in all my wet clothing.”
She merely nods quickly in response, keeping herself from shooting out of her chair as he looms over her, resting his hands on the arm rests.
“Is something else the matter?” he asks, looking down her with an impish grin on his face.
“N-no…” Anna mumbles as he cups her chin and tilts her face towards him. “I should… I should-- l-leave.” Her face is burning hot and she stops staring up at him, making to actually leave.
But Melchior will not budge and he captures her lips in a swift kiss, curling one hand loosely around her wrist. As Anna sinks back into her chair, he kneels before her and softly caresses her cheek, trailing his fingers down to brush against the soft fabric over her throat. Her soft sigh into the next kiss drives a shiver down his spine and Melchior gently undoes the front of her dress, only to expose her pale neck. He presses his lips to the soft skin.
Growing uncomfortable in her current position, Anna slides off the chair and sinks to the floor next to him, settling one small hand on his bare shoulder, the other on the side of his face. Anna is entirely lost, concentrating only on the kiss and the feeling of Melchior’s lips on her neck and her heart is racing and she must catch her breath and Melchi really shouldn’t be gripping her waist like that- - -
“Melchior!” she gasps, breaking the spell. Anna is flushed, flustered.
Melchior blinks, as if woken up from a dream, his hand still at her waist, the other pushing her still damp, unruly hair over her shoulder. “What is it?
“We cannot do this,” she mumbles as he reaches for her hand to press his lips to her wrist.
“Why not?” As always, he questions.
Anna knew about this sort of thing. Leisel told her- not in great detail, of course, but enough for her to know where this could have gone. “We really mustn’t, Melchi,” she insists, pulling her hand away. “I already know this should not happen until marriage.”
Melchior flinches. “Marriage?” he scoffs, “Where does it say we must wait for marriage? The Bible?”
“Well-“
“Anna, I have read it through and I don’t think it dictates whether a man should and shouldn’t have sex depending on some official document. And if it did, how am I to ever-“
“Then consider it my personal choice!” Anna cuts in heatedly, not wanting another lecture.
Melchior does not bother to hide his surprise, his eyebrows raised. He moves away from her, asking softly, “Why wait to perform an act so beautiful, to completely-“
“--An act that got my closest friend pregnant and ultimately killed her?” she snaps again. (Anna is shocked at her sudden reactions. Her eyes widen.)
He feels his heart sink and closes his eyes, pained. “Anna-oh, Anna, I will not hurt you. I care too much about you to ever hurt you,” Melchior finds himself saying, blurting out even. (It is only around her that his mind seems to stop completely and he simply… speaks.) “I only wish to show you how much…”
The smile returning to her face, Anna reaches across and slips her hand into his, lacing their fingers. “I believe the action is sacred- you could very well do as much of it as you please, but when it comes with marriage-to officiate a union, to wholly give yourself to another person… I believe that is beautiful.”
(It is also around Anna that he is rendered speechless at times.) “Oh.” (Pathetic.)
His silence stuns her further. She picks up a blanket and wraps it around his shoulders. “Forgive me for yelling.”
Melchior smiles and pulls her close to him, an arm around her thin shoulders. “Don’t ever apologize for expressing your opinions, Anna.”
Author: accio_cowbell
Rating: PG-13
Chapter: 9
Characters: Anna, Melchior (and Thea!)
Summary: Three years after Wendla’s passing, Anna and Melchior find each other and form a new connection.
Preview: Melchior flinches. “Marriage?” he scoffs, “Where does it say we must wait for marriage? The Bible?”
Author’s Note: This chapter is definitely one of my favorites- I love writing about their conflicting beliefs and how they try to deal with them. Also, y’alls who have been requesting ‘certain things’ best be satisfied with what I’ve got here. :|
Oh my gosh, I’m totally joking. <33 Enjoy and please comment!
“Your parents were wondering where you’d run off to,” Thea explains slowly, blinking away what she swears is only rainwater from her eyes. “Your mother especially. I told her I would fetch you.”
“Oh, goodness,” Anna breathes, releasing Melchior’s hand as she steps out of their shelter and towards Thea. “I am truly sorry, Th-“
She takes two steps back, looking at Anna with a pained expression in her brown eyes. “I shall tell her that you are fine and will be home soon.” Thea refuses to look at Melchior, who has followed Anna outside. “-You look well,” she says, staring at the ground.
“I am. A-as do you, Thea,” Melchior replies, feeling more awkward than he has felt in a long time. He sees Anna out of the corner of his eye, knowing she is searching for some way to explain all of this. (He wishes to take her hand and give it a comforting squeeze.)
“Thea, I do not know what to tell you,” Anna admits sadly, suddenly recalling how Thea spoke so admiringly of Melchior. She glances between the two of them and feels an overwhelming guilt surge through her.
“Mariana was right all along!” Thea spits out, glaring now. “She said she thought you weren’t around much nowadays because you were sneaking off for… for this! I told her she was being silly and you would never…!”
“Thea-“
“I won’t say a word, Anna, I won’t, but you… you think about what you both are doing! You think about the sin--”
Melchior tries to cut in. “We-“
“Good day!” And Thea is off.
Anna starts after her, but Melchior catches her arm. “Let her go, Anna.”
“But, Melchior!”
“She won’t tell,” he says, pulling her to him and gently grasping her shoulders, “She is upset, but she will not tell.”
Anna bites her lip and looks away from him. “I hadn’t realized we were a secret until now,” she mumbles, “I don’t want to keep you a secret from my parents!”
Melchior smiles, looking bemused as she pushes a wet curl from her forehead. “But isn’t an illicit courtship thrilling?” he jokes.
“Melchior Gabor!” Anna exclaims quite seriously.
“….yes?”
She looks up at him and laughs at his shocked expression. “Is this a courtship, you and I?” she wonders, for that makes it all the more thrilling.
“I would say so, my lady,” is Melchior’s gallant response. And he steps back to give an equally gallant bow, looking quite silly with his floppy, wet head of hair, soaked to the bone.
Still, Anna laughs again, absolutely delighted. “What shall I call you?”
“Melchior is just fine. A ‘sir’ would be terribly strange for me. ‘Lady’ fits you, however.” (Melchior cannot believe that he is the one spouting off such romantic phrases, but when he looks at her, he means it.) He kisses her hand.
+++
“I refuse to let you walk all the way home in this storm,” Anna says sternly, not releasing his hand.
“Well! Where shall I stay, then?”
She chuckles. “My playhouse?” (Her father is, after all, a carpenter.) “Oh, it’s quite small, but we’re all quite proud of it. Papa even added a small fireplace Leisel and I used to play so much here, but now I use it when I need peace and quiet and- I really must stop prattling on.”
With a chuckle, he kisses her forehead. “Lead the way.”
+++
Once the fire is started, Anna leaves to quickly alert her parents of her well-being, rattle off a hurried excuse, and change into a dry dress.
She hurries through the yard, careful not to dirty her lavender dress. Hugging the blankets to her chest, she ducks slightly as she passes through the smaller doorway. And that is when her jaw drops.
Melchior has hung his shirt and undershirt on a chair by the fireplace and had been prepared to undo his trousers. “Hello.”
“I-I-I…” Anna swallows hard and, Good Lord in Heaven, forgive her, for Melchior Gabor, resident radical (her suitor?), is standing before her without a shirt. She finally averts her eyes and silently hands him a wool blanket.
“Thank you.” He cannot help but smile, smirk even, but his hands leave his trousers and he stands before the fire to warm them. (Not that it would be so difficult in a one-room playhouse.) “Are you alright, Anna?”
“Fine!” she squeaks, “perfectly fine!” She sits in a tiny chair as demurely as she can, fixing her gaze on her folded hands.
“Well, Anna,” he slowly approaches her, “you know it’d be quite uncomfortable if I sat in all my wet clothing.”
She merely nods quickly in response, keeping herself from shooting out of her chair as he looms over her, resting his hands on the arm rests.
“Is something else the matter?” he asks, looking down her with an impish grin on his face.
“N-no…” Anna mumbles as he cups her chin and tilts her face towards him. “I should… I should-- l-leave.” Her face is burning hot and she stops staring up at him, making to actually leave.
But Melchior will not budge and he captures her lips in a swift kiss, curling one hand loosely around her wrist. As Anna sinks back into her chair, he kneels before her and softly caresses her cheek, trailing his fingers down to brush against the soft fabric over her throat. Her soft sigh into the next kiss drives a shiver down his spine and Melchior gently undoes the front of her dress, only to expose her pale neck. He presses his lips to the soft skin.
Growing uncomfortable in her current position, Anna slides off the chair and sinks to the floor next to him, settling one small hand on his bare shoulder, the other on the side of his face. Anna is entirely lost, concentrating only on the kiss and the feeling of Melchior’s lips on her neck and her heart is racing and she must catch her breath and Melchi really shouldn’t be gripping her waist like that- - -
“Melchior!” she gasps, breaking the spell. Anna is flushed, flustered.
Melchior blinks, as if woken up from a dream, his hand still at her waist, the other pushing her still damp, unruly hair over her shoulder. “What is it?
“We cannot do this,” she mumbles as he reaches for her hand to press his lips to her wrist.
“Why not?” As always, he questions.
Anna knew about this sort of thing. Leisel told her- not in great detail, of course, but enough for her to know where this could have gone. “We really mustn’t, Melchi,” she insists, pulling her hand away. “I already know this should not happen until marriage.”
Melchior flinches. “Marriage?” he scoffs, “Where does it say we must wait for marriage? The Bible?”
“Well-“
“Anna, I have read it through and I don’t think it dictates whether a man should and shouldn’t have sex depending on some official document. And if it did, how am I to ever-“
“Then consider it my personal choice!” Anna cuts in heatedly, not wanting another lecture.
Melchior does not bother to hide his surprise, his eyebrows raised. He moves away from her, asking softly, “Why wait to perform an act so beautiful, to completely-“
“--An act that got my closest friend pregnant and ultimately killed her?” she snaps again. (Anna is shocked at her sudden reactions. Her eyes widen.)
He feels his heart sink and closes his eyes, pained. “Anna-oh, Anna, I will not hurt you. I care too much about you to ever hurt you,” Melchior finds himself saying, blurting out even. (It is only around her that his mind seems to stop completely and he simply… speaks.) “I only wish to show you how much…”
The smile returning to her face, Anna reaches across and slips her hand into his, lacing their fingers. “I believe the action is sacred- you could very well do as much of it as you please, but when it comes with marriage-to officiate a union, to wholly give yourself to another person… I believe that is beautiful.”
(It is also around Anna that he is rendered speechless at times.) “Oh.” (Pathetic.)
His silence stuns her further. She picks up a blanket and wraps it around his shoulders. “Forgive me for yelling.”
Melchior smiles and pulls her close to him, an arm around her thin shoulders. “Don’t ever apologize for expressing your opinions, Anna.”