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carrotsofavonlea · 5 years

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Eyes cannot hide true desires

"Welcome everyone to this year's county fair." Miss Stacy stood on stage, looking out into the audience. It was the first time a woman had made the opening announcements, normally the minister would make a speech, but Miss Stacy had been the main organiser this year (along with Mrs Lynde) and reluctantly she'd been allowed to welcome everyone.

"To open the dance, I have chosen to bestow the honour upon my two best students: Anne Shirley-Cuthbert and Gilbert Blythe."

Everyone turned to look at Anne, and instinctively she stepped back before Diana held her firmly in place. Opening the dance was a huge honour, there must have been a mistake.

But Miss Stacy was smiling at her eagerly, and Anne had no choice but to step forward towards the dance floor. However Gilbert was looking just as awkward about the whole affair, politely offering his hand to her with a nervous laugh.

The whole town's eyes were upon them, waiting for them to begin.

"Just like we practiced, right?" Gilbert's smile instantly sent a calmness through her, and she closed her eyes as she took a deep breath. They'd danced together before in class, so what made this so different?

The music started up and Gilbert took a step, Anne following his lead. She looked around at the faces watching them, but she couldn't focus on any of them. All she knew was that they were staring at her, no doubt whispering about her too.

Her feet stumbled and she accidentally stood on Gilbert's foot. His face gave nothing away other than his lips pursing slightly.

Anne looked around and saw Josie Pye giggling, along with a few others starting to snicker.

"Don't look at them," Gilbert whispered softly, "look at me."

She hesitantly pulled her eyes away from the crowd and into Gilbert's. He was smiling at her, his eyes wrinkling and nose scrunching. She couldn't help but smile back, and soon they were dancing smoothly. Gilbert was no longer leading, but rather they were dancing together. The crowd and sneering faces faded away, and in that moment all Anne could think about was Gilbert.

Her senses were bombarded by him. The feel of his hand in hers, the sight of him beaming at her, the sound of him quietly humming along to the music, even the earthy smell of him, somehow the smell of his soap mixed with nature, of the farm, of the trees and grass. It wasn't unpleasant, it was comforting.

Before she knew what was happening, he had spun her around and the song had ended. Everyone was applauding, and Gilbert had bowed to Anne before she wondered back to her spot by Diana in almost a daze. She'd been so lost in Gilbert that she hadn't even noticed the dance ending. It felt too short, and all she could think was: "is that it?"

Other couples had started to fill the dance floor now, and of course Gilbert was now dancing with Miss Rose. All Anne knew about her was that she worked with Dr Ward which is how Gilbert met her. She seemed nice enough, a little older, but Anne had never really considered Gilbert had... romantic feelings for her. She supposed it was inevitable, a beautiful girl like that, what boy wouldn't be charmed? And clearly Gilbert had fallen under her spell.

Anne stood on the sidelines watching them, trying to ignore whatever feeling she had in her chest. Gilbert was her friend and she should be happy he's found someone, but it felt wrong somehow. It was bound to have happened, that one day Gilbert would find someone, but she'd just never given it much thought. Now it had happened, she felt...sad?

She decided she didn't feel like watching the dance and went to explore the rest of the fair, quietly slipping away from the crowd.

"Who was that you danced with?" Winnie asked, her voice calm as ever.

Gilbert raised an eyebrow, "Anne?"

"You seem awfully fond of her."

"She's just a friend." Gilbert shrugged, still leading the dance.

"I'm not blind."

"What do you mean?"

Winnie sighed, but maintained her posture. "The way you look at her. Like she's the only one around."

Gilbert shook his head looking Winnie in the eyes.

"A girl can tell when a boy looks at her but is thinking of someone else." She said, a sad smile on her face. "You love her."

"I don't know what I feel for Anne."

"I'm not angry at you. I see how you practically lit up around her."

"Winnie I…" Gilbert didn't know how to end that sentence. He wasn't in love with Winnie, maybe given enough time it could grow to love. But he didn't know what he felt for Anne. Anne was... Anne.

"Relax, we weren't even officially courting." She held her head high, "You're a dear boy, but I don't know if we really would be a good match."

"No?" He raised an eyebrow, smirking a little. "And why is that?"

"Your manners are nothing to desire that's for sure."

He tried not to feel offended. "Oh?"

The song ended, and she politely curtsied to him. "I don't want to stand in the way of true love. Anyone with two eyes can see how you feel about each other. You looked genuinely happy, and I can't remember the last time you smiled like that."

Gilbert took her hand, "I'm so sorry, Winnie."

"Don't be." she smiled, "But do me a favour?"

"Anything."

"Tell her how you feel."

He nodded, and she kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you Gilbert. You'll always be a dear friend to me, make no mistake. I hope things turn out well for you and your Anne."

And with that, Winnie had stepped back romantically, and rather offered a new path - friendship. A weight had been lifted off Gilbert, as if he were suddenly given a chance to go back and fix things with Anne. This time he would not hide from his feelings. He would declare them, and if she did not return them, then he will know once and for all. But until he did, he wouldn't be able to get her out of his mind, no matter who he tried to put in her place.

He scanned the crowd but Anne was nowhere to be seen, and he started roaming the fair. The whole town was apparently in attendance, and he got lost in the crowd, pushing past faces in an attempt to find the right one. He was about to give up when he turned around and quite literally bumped into Anne, his hand reaching out automatically to steady her.

"Gilbert." She breathed out, adjusting the hat that had almost been knocked off her head.

"Anne," he couldn't help but thinking about what Winnie had said, about how he looked at her. In this moment, everyone else had faded and it really was just Anne.

"Where's Miss Rose?" She asked politely but it didn't sound like she actually wanted to know.

"Probably dancing with some handsome stranger." He waved his hand nonchalantly.

"I thought she was here with you?"

"She is…" he said slowly and Anne's expression changed behind the eyes, a hint of hurt.

"She's...a lovely girl. I'm sure you're very happy."

He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, "She is. But we're not... she's a friend."

"You haven't officially started courting?"

"No, but that's because she knew it wouldn't work between us."

"I don't understand why, she's beautiful, wonderfully dressed, and no doubt smart to be working with Dr Ward."

Gilbert nodded, "But she knew I was...in love with someone else…."

His eyes met Anne's as he nervously swallowed, trying to read her face but Anne was giving nothing away.

"Oh…"

He slowly reached out, taking both of her hands in his. "She knew my heart belonged to someone else first...you."

"Oh." Anne felt so stupid standing there, but all she could say was "oh". Her brain couldn't understand it. Gilbert? Love? Her?

"When I was with Winnie, everything felt so…superficial. Like I was only seeing half a picture. But when I'm around you, everything's brighter. When Mary died, you were the only one who really understood what I was going through. You didn't let me quit my dream because you know how important this is to me. Winnie is lovely... but she doesn't understand me the way you do. I don't feel quite like myself around her, as if I'm someone I'm not. But it never feels like that with you, it's easy, it's... it's the way I want to feel all the time."

Anne looked down at their hands, how perfect it all felt. She understood what he was saying, how she felt when they were dancing was the way she always wanted to feel. He made her feel less alone in the world, made her feel like there was still some good left in it when all seems hopeless. They understood each other more than she realised.

She dropped his hands and threw her arms around his neck, and he returned the hug, holding her tightly. They both laughed in joy, finally releasing years of whatever this tension between them had been. When she pulled back, their faces were close together, and before she could think of what Marilla would say if she knew, Anne closed the gap, kissing him lightly.

He looked at her with the biggest, lovestruck grin she'd ever seen and knew that there was no one else she'd rather have look at her like this.

"May I have this dance?" She held out a hand, Gilbert still dazed from her kiss, cheeks pink.

"Yes." He managed to mumble, before Anne lead him back towards the crowd of dancers.

As they twirled around, hearts full, Gilbert caught sight of Winnie. She was stood at the side, watching them, her hands across her chest.

"Thank you." He mouthed to her, and she smiled.

Gilbert offered to walk Anne home after the fair. It wasn't the first time they'd walked together, but this time they walked with their hands interlocked, and would continue to do so for many, many years.

#awae #shirbert #anne with an e #anne shirley #gilbert blythe #awaefic

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dryadsbubbles · 5 years

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First Kisses

All the first kisses Gilbert and Anne experience together before they experience their real first kiss.

---

(aka forehead and nose and cheek and hand kisses. so soft. so beautiful)

no season 3 spoilies

(ao3 link)

He finds her in the woods. She’s crumbled under a willow tree, the setting sun streaming through the leaves. She looks like a dream. An angel sent from heaven. But he pushes away these thoughts. Now is not the time.

He knows what she’s going through. Understands her grief, pain, and tears. It’s been a few years since his father passed but he still feels a pang in his heart whenever he thinks about it. Looking at her now, his heart breaks in pieces. Her back is turned to him, her shoulders shaking from the heavy sobs coming from her. She of all people, does not deserve this, he thinks. It isn’t fair that she has to deal with the death of the only father figure she’s ever known, at so young. He wants nothing more than to take her pain away, but he knows it’s not possible.

Softly, he approaches her and kneels down next to her. He places a tentative hand on her shoulder.

“Anne?” He whispers.

She takes a breath and slowly turns her face to his. He can tell that she’s trying to keep herself together now that she knows he’s here, but her red, tear-stained face gives her away.

“Oh, Anne” He sighs sympathetically.

With that, she breaks down again. She launches herself into his arms. Her arms wrap tightly around his neck as her sobs start coming freely again. He draws her close to him and gently rocks them back and forth.

“I’m so sorry Anne. I’m so so sorry,” he whispers over and over into her ear.

“It’s not fair, Gil,” she cries into his neck. “Why is this happening? Why now? Why me?”

He feels a lump in his throat and tears spring to his eyes from her heartbreaking words.

“I don’t know Anne, I’m so sorry Anne.” He says, his voice cracking.

He doesn’t know what else to do so he squeezes her even tighter and places a gentle, lingering kiss on the crown of her head, hoping that that will be enough, for now.

---

He doesn’t know how he got so lucky.

They were spending the day together. It was their first day of summer, the day after they found out about the Queen’s Academy Examination results. Tied for first. A result better than he could ever have imagined. So, naturally, he had proposed a day together. She had been quick to say yes and the next morning they were off down the road, arm in arm, towards the river.

They had gone for a row in the water and had a picnic with sandwiches especially prepared by Gilbert himself. (Or at least, that’s what he told her. Really, he had been too excited about the day to focus long enough to make sandwiches so Mary had to step in and finish them. But Anne didn’t need to know that.)

Now, after the picnic, they’re strolling along the river shore, soaking up the sun and walking in contemplative silence. It isn’t long before Anne gets bored and attempts to push him into the river. But he has fast reflexes and grabs her arm, pulling her down into the water right beside him. As soon as Anne’s head emerges, she’s ready to scold him.

“Gilbert Blythe!” She exclaims, trying to keep a serious face.

He lets out a loud laugh as Anne scrambles to the shore. He knows she’s not really mad, so he chases after her. Once he catches up to her, his arms go around her waist and he lifts her up, spinning her in the air. He hears her let out a surprised squeal. She’s still laughing as he gently puts her down. She turns towards him with twinkling eyes and a large smile. She stares up at him for a minute, slightly out of breath, before she reaches up onto her tippy toes and places a sweet kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you Gilbert,” she says sincerely, “This is the happiest I’ve been since...since…”

He squeezes her hand.

“I know,” He responds.

She stares up at him for one more second before she quickly turns and yells, “Race you back to the picnic basket!” over her shoulder.

It takes him a second to react, still processing the fact that she had kissed his cheek. But he soon comes to his senses and takes off after her, feeling a little bit of hope in his heart for the first time in a while.

---

He hears her laugh before he sees her. His eyes search the room, looking for any flashes of red hair. Sure enough, he finds her in the far corner, talking with Jane Andrews and another gentleman he doesn’t know. He thinks she looks absolutely angelic. She’s wearing a soft blue dress trimmed with white lace and a darker blue bow around her waist. She’s wearing her hair up tonight, something that he’s been noticing her do more and more. He stunned with the realization that she’s grown up, they’ve grown up. They’re not the young teenagers they were when they first met, they’re young adults, in their last year at Queen’s now, the future so much closer than it once seemed.

Another laugh breaks his thoughts. He realizes that she’s laughing at something that the unknown gentleman beside her is saying. He feels an uneasy twist in his gut. He understands why it’s there. It’s been a long time since he’s accepted his feelings for her. Still, the twisting feeling in his stomach never gets easier.

He can’t help but make his way over to her. She spots him almost immediately, and her face lights up as she beckons him over. He easily slides into position at her side as she makes introductions.

“Gilbert, meet Hubert Johnson, Jane’s beau, she says to him.

All he feels is relief as he reaches over to shake the man's hand. After proper introductions and a few minutes of small talk, Jane and Hubert make their way over to the dance floor. He and Anne stand together, surveying the crowd for a minute before Anne turns back to him and asks,

“Well? Are you going to ask me to dance?”

He lets out a soft chuckle at her upfrontness.

“I was just getting to that,” he replies easily.

He holds out his hand for her and once she takes it, he leads her to the middle of the dance floor. They dance a slow waltz together, exchanging pleasantries and commenting on people around the room. After a moment, Gilbert says,

“You know, you and I have come a long way Anne.”

She gazes up into his eyes for a moment before replying with a simple,

“Yes. We have.”

They don’t break eye contact until the song comes to an end. She curtsies to him and he bows to her. He then takes her hand and lifts it to his mouth and softly kissing it.

“Save me the last dance?” He asks.

She can feel his light, warm breath on her hand before he drops it gently.

“Of course,” she says softly.

---

He watches her from his spot across the room. She’s sitting on the couch scribbling notes down onto her notepad. It’s their last study session together before their final set of examinations at Queens. He’s going to miss this. Watching her nose scrunch up as she tries to memorize the poems she needs to recite for one of her English courses, or watching as she huffs and grumbles her way through a geometry problem. Honestly, he gets far less studying done when they’re as he’s always too distracted by her to even pay attention to his books. But he doesn’t mind.

He hears her gasp and sees her mouth fall into a frown.

“What’s the matter?” He asks.

“My pen has broken,” she sighs, “And I didn’t bring another one with me.”

“Here, use one of mine,” he offers, tossing one through the air to her.

The pen soars right through her outstretched hands and hits her squarely in the nose. She yelps.

“Oh Anne, I’m sorry!” He exclaims, rushing to kneel in front of her. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

He puts his hands on either side of her face to examine the spot that he hit. She holds her breath, very aware at how close they are. It only takes a second longer for him to realize it too and he stills.

“You’re a real character, Gilbert Blythe. Throwing that pen at me and maybe ruining the best part of all my facial features,” Anne whispers, in order to break the silence that has been stretching on between them.

Unable to stop himself, he pulls her head forward ever so slightly and places his lips on the tip of her nose. He hears her sharp intake of breath and he pulls away, hands still on her face.

“Better?” He asks

“Yes,” she breathes.

---

He finds her under the willow tree, just as he did all those years ago. This time, she’s sitting down with her back leaning against it, eyes closed.

He steps on a branch and it snaps. Her eyes open wide and she jolts slightly upwards, but when her eyes meet his, her body relaxes and she smiles softly at him. She stands up and brushes her skirt off, walking to meet him.

“Marilla told me I’d find you here,” he says. “How are you feeling?”

“Scared, nervous, excited, everything” she tells him honestly.

He smiles down at her, taking her hand in his and squeezing it.

“You’ll do just fine. You were born to be a teacher. Especially here in Avonlea.” He reassures her.

“And why should I believe you, Dr Blythe?” She asks slyly.

He chuckles. He was nowhere close to being an official doctor yet. He still had four years of schooling left. But Anne had already gotten in the habit of calling him Doctor, and after a while he stopped correcting her.

“Because I know you Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, you’re intelligent, passionate and caring. Plus you charm just about everyone you meet. I should know. You were able to charm me just by breaking a slate over my head.”

“Oh Gil,” she says, as she takes his face in her two hands. She reaches up on her tippy toes and she kisses him softly, passionately. He pulls her closer to him and sighs.

Finally.

---

#shirbert ff #shirbert fic #shirbert fanfiction #shirbert #anne shirley cuthbert #gilbert blythe #awae #awae fanfic #awae fic #awae ff #anne of the green gables #anne with an e #anne with an e fanfic #anne with an e fic

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tragic-otome-fan · 4 years

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I’m not even sure if the midnight cinderella fandom is still alive on this platform but I wrote Robert a proper route because cybird did him dirty. They pissed me off so much that I wrote a short book and this is chapter 1. Maybe this will still be here tomorrow, maybe it won’t be. Maybe I will post the other 10 chapters, maybe I won’t. I have no clue how romance writers can publish books because I cringed with every word I wrote but it can’t be worse than the wattpad account I had when I was 15 so here we fucking go:

It was finally time.

After months of attending lessons and taking tests of a broad variation of royal topics, she was one of the few potential princess consorts that remained. Out of the twenty other young women from Wysteria that had initially deemed themselves capable of being their country's princess, only five of them had made it to this final stage. She almost couldn't believe she was one of them.

To say that the past few months hadn’t been hard for her, would be a lie. It took a lot of time to get used to the packed schedule that a princess had. As a teacher, she had always had plenty of time to wind down, but a princess had duties from morning to night. Those who weren't dismissed due to bad grades had quit themselves because the workload was much bigger than they initially thought. She'd been very close to doing the same thing at some point, but this was her dream, and she wasn't going to give it up that easily.

This final stage was all about convincing Mr. Christophe that you weren't just capable of working under pressure, a fast learner and good at public speech; you could also be a leader, stand your ground when need be, and apply what you've learned to different situations. Mr. Christophe had several duties within the palace: he was the king's advisor, the princess's tutor and the one to choose a princess consort when the current ruler didn't have an heir. He'd taught her and the other contestants a few subjects as well.

Because of that, she already knew a bit about him. He was cold and calculating. Much quicker to critisise than to praise. However, he never raised his voice when someone made a mistake, and his comments, though sometimes put a bit bluntly, were constructive. She knew people like him to be hard, but not impossible to please.

She finally reached the door to Mr. Christophe's study. She took a deep breath to ease her nerves. Though the door had a welcoming ambiance, what she was about to do behind it made it look quite imposing. She took a look at the clock that hung above it. She was reasonably early, as a princess should be. That's quite a good start. She tried her best to knock on the door as confidently as she could. 'Come in,' said the now familiar voice of Mr. Christophe. She took one final deep breath before she obliged.

'Good afternoon, Ella.' Ella curtsied the way she had been taught. 'Good afternoon, Mr. Christophe.' He gestured to the chair in front of him. 'Please take your seat.' She did as she was told and looked up to him expectantly.

'Did you study well?'

'I've given it my all, Mr. Christophe.'

'I sure hope that's enough.'

They'd had an exchange like this before, during one of the first lessons. Back then it had thrown her off and made her doubt herself, left unable to find a reply. But she wouldn't let that happen this time. 'I'm quite confident it is. Please, let us begin,' she said.

He raised an eyebrow to this, but said nothing. 'Very well. We'll start with some questions about situations you're likely to encounter as the princess, and then we'll proceed to your self-evaluation.' He told Ella about certain political and economical problems, and then asked what she would do to resolve them. She was able to answer some of them without missing a beat, but she had to think a little longer with most of them. She hoped that would be okay. After all, there's no way they would take a princess consort that never thinks her decisions through, right? She decided to put that question out of her mind for now. She had more than enough time to fret about that after this interrogation was over.

They soon made their way to the evaluation part. This consisted of only two questions. Mr. Christophe stood up and put his hands on either side of the table. 'Now then. Tell me, Ella. What makes you think you're a good fit to be princess?' His maroon eyes stared into her hazel ones intensely. She knew he did this to try to intimidate her, and in all honesty, it worked, but she wasn't going to let it show. 'I can accommodate to new situations quickly, I'm able to put my emotions aside and come up with rational solutions...' Despite Mr. Christophe's perfectly neutral expression, his eyes spoke of boredom. Of course, she was the last of the final contestants to speak with him. He must have heard all of what she just said many times before. She must come up with something to grab him. The best way to catch his interest, was to present him with a beneficial characteristic no other potential princess had. Now what could that be?

Allthough it was possible for a commoner to enroll in the princess system, it was quite unusual. Most of the other contestants had been noblewomen. There was only one other person that shared a similar bloodline to Ella's that had applied for this position. Her name was Violet. Due to the fact that the other women wouldn't even spare them a glance, they stuck together and bonded a lot. It felt good to have someone to talk to during breaks and ask questions to during lessons, but sadly enough, Violet didn't make it past the last test before the final stage.

Noblewomen had quite the benefits when you compared them to a commoner princess. They already knew how to conduct themselves and some of the lesson material was not new to them. However, there had to be something a woman like Ella had that they didn't, and she had an idea of what that could be. 'And also,' she followed. 'As a former citizen, I know exactly what life in Wysteria is like and how I may be able to make it better.'

He nodded. 'Thank you very much, Ella,' he said. 'That will be all. We will see you around 1 pm in the ballroom with the other finalists next week, when we have the results.'

Ella stood up and curtsied again. 'I will look forward to seeing you then.'

The following week, she was teaching children like she did before she applied to be princess. The children knew of her ambitions and were full of questions, like 'have you already found a prince?' The question had made her laugh. 'No, Emma, I haven't found a prince yet.' Ella was glad to have them around. It made the time pass less slowly and it distracted her from her fears.

Finally, it was time to go back to the palace to see the final results. She and the other contestants stood in a line. The other women were chatting excitedly amongst themselves, but Ella was quiet, clutching her hands in the skirts of her dress to hide her nervousness. Oh, how she wished Violet was still here. The others fell quiet as well when Mr. Christophe walked in. While Ella was fighting the urge to bite her lip, the others had broken into more excited chatter, but this time they were trying to get Mr. Christophe’s attention instead of talking to eachother, asking him questions regarding who the new princess could be.

He held up a hand to silence them, and the room immediately fell quiet again. He took a deep breath 'The next princess in line of the throne is...'

Ella couldn't stop herself from shaking anymore. She held her breath together with the other contestants.

'Ella Shirley.' Mr. Christophe looked at her with a kind, almost fond smile. For a moment, she was baffled. This entire week she had been afraid that she had been unable to grab his attention in the end, and now she had been chosen as the princesss. Ella held her head high as she walked over to the podium to join Mr. Christophe. At the same time making sure she wasn't going to trip over the foot the noblewoman that had been standing next to her had stuck out.

'Thank you very much for choosing me, Mr. Christophe. I won't disappoint you.'

'You can call me Giles from now on, Your Highness. Well done.'

She couldn't help but smile at the unusual praise.

After getting a welcoming tour through the palace and getting introduced to its staff, the final room Giles showed her was her bedroom. 'It's beautiful,' she exclaimed upon first seeing it.

'I'm glad it pleases you. I'll leave you on your own now, so you can rest. You're going to have a lot of busy days starting tomorrow after all.'

She almost slumped at what he said. This means she will not be able to say goodbye to the children she had taught. Or at least, not in person. She told herself she was going to make sure to write them from time to time and come by whenever she had a day off.

'I will see you tomorrow, Princess,' Giles said before he closed the door.

'See you tomorrow.' She waited until his footsteps faded away before she finally let out the excitement that she had been holding in ever since she had heard that she was chosen. ‘I did it!’ She jumped around her new room before letting herself fall on the bed. The sheets were so soft, it was like laying on a cloud. If she hadn't been full of energy and happiness for being able to achieve her dream, she would have laid there for a little while longer, but she quickly jumped up to dance around the room again.

When she had let out most of her excitement, she realised it was still early. It felt like a lot had happened since she was told she was the new princess consort, but apparently, not much time had passed at all. One of her biggest hobbies was reading, but she didn't think she would be able to bring up the concentration to do that right now. Maybe it would be a good idea to go to the garden. She was only able to glance at it briefly during the palace tour and she'd love to take a better look.

And so, she went off to the palace garden, happily greeting the people she passed. When she stepped outside, she was taken aback by the sight before her. She had never seen a garden quite like this one. It was beautifully cultivated; exotic plants and flowers put together in a perfectly symmetrical circle with a fountain in the middle. Knights were guarding the sides of the doors, standing still like a statue, as if they too, were part of the garden.

What caught her eye next was a man dressed in green, sitting in front of an easel in the corner with his back turned towards her. Filled with curiosity, she walked over to him and leaned down over his shoulder. He was halfway done working on the details of a beautiful landscape painting.

'Wow,' she breathed in wonder. 'The colours are so light and gentle, it's like the exact image of a dream. You're so talented -' She cut herself off when she saw that the man was staring at her with wide eyes, his paintbrush stopped mid-stroke. 'Oh, I'm sorry.' She took a step back, smiling awkwardly. 'Did I startle you?'

A short silence fell between them before he spoke. 'Ella?'

Now it was her turn to look startled. 'Wait, do we know eachother?'

The corners of his lips quirked up. 'Don't tell me you don't recognise me?'

The way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled did remind her of someone. Someone she had known a long time ago. Back when she lived in the orphanage, she had been tutored by a kind man who smiled just like that. Her face broke into a smile at the memories that surfaced. 'Wait... Robert? Is that really you?'

'Very good,' he said just the way he always did when she and the other children he had taught answered a question correctly.

Ella's whole face lit up. 'I'm so glad to see you! It's been so long... Where have you been all this time? How have you been doing?'

Robert laughed heartily. 'You're still talkative as ever, I see?'

She pouted at that. 'I guess I never grew out of that, no matter how many times my caretakers tried to make me.'

He gave her the signature gentle smile she'd always known and loved. 'Well, I for one am glad you didn't. Having someone as lively as you around is always a delight. And it will be an advantage for when you start forming diplomatic relationships with other countries as well.' He gestured to the choker around her neck that signified that she was the princess.

She smiled back at him fondly. He hadn't changed at all. He was still watching over her the way he had done when she was little. 'Thank you, Robert. I'm glad to see a familiar face here.'

'It's no trouble at all. Feel free to come talk to me whenever you need to. I'll be happy to help.'

She nodded firmly. 'I will.'

Then it was time for Robert to resume painting. He watched as Ella wandered off with a spring in her step. As soon as she turned her back on him, his smile made place for a sad, almost pained look. 'Oh Ella,' he sighed. 'To think that you too, would rise to a position of power.'

#midnight cinderella #midnightcinderellarobert robertbranche

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elysianrey · 5 years

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i’ll come to thee by moonlight

(a/n: this is basically the story nobody asked for but I somehow wrote? all it takes is seeing Anne with her own two eyes for Winnifred Rose to quickly understand Gilbert’s undevoted attraction toward her. Minor spoilers related to season 3. content rated G+)

Winnifred Rose sat snuggly between a tall blonde boy, of whom she noticed dressed quite fashionably and exquisitely for someone of his age, and her dear friend, Gilbert Blythe. She glanced curiously about the luxurious garden in which they sat at, as the beautiful blooms gently swayed from the early afternoon summer breeze on the island. She suddenly startled as her attention was swiftly refocused on the dainty, soft girl raising her voice in passionate cry as she finished the end of her poem. The crowd gathered around the small platform before them clapped in admiration at her performance, and she heard a loud ‘whoop’ from a group of boys seated in the section of chairs to their right. She clapped politely along with the others from Avonlea. The small freckled girl smiled shyly from her spot on the stage and gave a curtsy bow before exiting and seating herself in the front row next to a familiar head of auburn hair.

“Next, we welcome to the stage, Miss Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. Miss Shirley-Cuthbert will be reciting The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes.”

Winnifred watched as the young woman made her way from her chair up onto the stage. To her right, she sensed Mr. Blythe shift in his seat, slowly leaning forward in anticipation. Had it not been for this fundraiser organized by the spirited Anne herself, Winnifred would not be seated where she was today. Gilbert had expressed his excitement for the fundraiser in his last letter, urging Miss Rose to attend with him in order for her to finally meet this Anne he had fondly spoken of many times in the past.

Anne gracefully took her place in the center of the flower-adorned platform and clasped her hands together in front of her chest. Gilbert’s body inched even closer to the edge of his seat as the girl dressed in a luxuriously deep blue satin dress began to speak.

“The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees.

The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas.

The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,

And the highwayman came riding—

Riding—riding—

The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.”

All around her, eyes that were nodding in tiredness or looking elsewhere quickly became fixed on the redhead’s delivery of the famous poem. It was as if a spell were overtaking the crowd, herself included in the magic this faerie was casting over them. Winnifred could not help but glance over at the curly headed boy. Wonder and awe were written clearly on his features, yet his own eyes held a secret that he had never revealed in all the time she had known him. Gilbert was in love. No, perhaps love was too light of a word. He was smitten, captivated, and completely bewitched by Miss Shirley-Cuthbert. A hidden smile made the corners of her lips turn upward at the realization.

As the poem drew to a close, Winnifred understood why this enchanting young woman had captured the heart of her close friend because she had been drawn into the same allure. Why Anne had no sooner breathed the final words of the poem than Gilbert was already on his feet clapping fervently with the crowd and shouting, “Encore!” The crowd seemed to follow suit and the tall blonde boy next to Winnifred joined in Gilbert’s pleas for more from Anne. Miss Rose saw the redhead glance purposefully in their direction as she beamed and bowed for those cheering at her magnificent delivery. The color creeping up her cheeks began to match that of her hair as Gilbert whistled and smiled so widely his dimples dotted his cheeks.

After an encore performance from Anne, the poetry reading ended and those attending the fundraiser dispersed and headed toward the refreshments located in another section of the majestic garden. Winnifred trailed behind Gilbert and the tall boy who had been sitting beside her, of whom she learned was also a friend of Anne’s, named Cole. They found Miss Shirley-Cuthbert surrounded by an entourage of men, women, and children alike, complimenting and commenting on the zeal they had experienced from her performance. Waiting patiently as she graciously accepted and thanked their praises, she suddenly came bounding over to them, smiling eagerly and laughing happily.

She threw her arms around Cole first and he spun her around once before placing her firmly back on the ground. “Oh Anne!” he exclaimed proudly, taking her hand in his own.

Miss Rose observed the interaction between the pair rather quizzically and stole another glance at Gilbert, who did not appear taken back by the gesture.

“You were simply marvelous! The way you proclaimed the last stanza nearly had me in tears!” Cole clutched at his heart for added dramatic effect and Anne nearly doubled over in laughter.

“We have both come a long way since our days imagining up all kinds of stories in my room at Green Gables, have we not?” Anne stated, catching her breath, and turning away from Cole to Gilbert and Winnifred.

Winnifred watched as Gilbert opened his mouth and his hand began to gesture in her direction when Anne abruptly cut him short by enveloping him in a tight hug. He appeared taken back as he nearly lost his balance, but his arms soon found their way around her petite waist.

“Thank you for coming!” she cried as they broke apart. “Really and truly, Gilbert. I daresay I might not have been on that stage if it had not been for your dear companionship after school these past weeks.”

Gilbert looked down at the ground, flustered at the unexpected recognition from Anne, a blush crawling up his neck from beneath his collar. “You were remarkable, Anne. I was only an outlet for your creativity and talent,” he said fondly, his eyes meeting hers as the two shared a moment in which Winnifred felt like she was intruding upon.

Anne was the first to break the trance by turning to Winnifred and taking both of her hands in her own. “You must be Miss Rose. I was so pleased to hear that you were attending the fundraiser. I hope you have enjoyed Avonlea. Before you leave, I simply must show you The Lake of Shining Waters. It would be a shame to miss such a glorious sight at this time of the year,” said Anne with nearly as much fervor as the poem she had just recited.

Taken aback slightly by her enthusiasm, Winnifred returned the offer with a genuine smile herself and squeezed the redhead girl’s hands, declaring, “How could I pass up such a lovely proposal for adventure, Miss Shirley-Cuthbert? Perhaps while we are there, you could read another poem? I do not think I can take another conversation about the latest medical practice from Mr. Blythe.” She shot Gilbert a teasing look and he shrugged in return.

Winnifred feared Anne was going to burst from elation—quite literally—after hearing her proposal and the redhead squealed delightedly. “Yes of course! I—”

However, before she could finish her next thought, she was being ushered away by a short, stout, grey haired woman who had been calling her name and informed her that she must meet one of the biggest donors of the fundraiser. Anne turned and waved, mouthing ‘Good-bye’ to the three of them as she disappeared in the flock of people.

“I think I know where your passion lies, Gilbert,” she smirked as he stared after the satin outline of the girl. He turned, giving her a puzzled look and she continued. “Oh please, dear friend. You may deny it until you are blue in the face, but your eyes tell me all that I need to know. Perhaps anyone for that matter. You mustn’t let someone like her slip away from you. She’s a rarity in this big world.” Winnifred would know, seeing as she had met many people from all kinds of places thus far in her short lifetime.

Gilbert stood there, his brow furrowed after listening to her words, his brain making an obvious effort to understand everything she had spoken to him. Then, it was as if a new dawning had just occurred to him, and the lines in his forehead smoothed. He put his hand lightly on her shoulder and uttered a ‘Thank-you’ before turning on his heel to go find the auburn-haired girl she assumed.

She stood there, arms crossed, feeling rather smug with herself for helping a friend in need. Perhaps one day, she would find an equal partner in life like Gilbert with Anne, but for now, she was content in experiencing more that this world had to offer. She was awakened from her reverie when Cole, who she had nearly forgotten was still standing beside her, spoke.

“I think you and I are going to be good friends,” he said with a glint in his eye that said, ‘I have been telling them the same thing for years.’ Miss Rose grinned up at him and accepted the gentlemanly arm he extended.

“Shall we drink to prosperity or continued foolishness?” she questioned as they arrived at the beverage table, handing him a glass of punch and taking one of her own.

“Both!” he chuckled, as they clinked glasses and each took sips of the sweet, orange liquid.

Winnifred would later learn that his toast would reign remarkably true.

#anne with an e #awae #shirbert #shirtbert ff #anne shirley cuthbert #gilbert blythe #anne x gilbert #awae season 3 #cole mackenzie #winnifred rose #ellie writes #i feel like there is a lot of potential for winnie in this show #and she would definitely get upon the shirbert ship with cole #and eventually diana would be apart of this too

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pompcoco · 1 year

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Darling or “darling” 🍎💕 (a comic of Shirley realizing her feelings for Wally- part 1 cause cant fit the last two panels here)

#my art #welcome home #welcome home oc #wally darling #julie joyful #eddie dear #frank frankly #Shirley Curtsy

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sloshed-cinema · 5 years

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Marie Antoinette (2006)

Is it overplayed to say that this movie is all style and no substance? Because this movie is all style and no substance. Perhaps that was Sofia Coppola’s intent. Create a beautiful but vapid French court, show us nothing but this isolated champagne bubble of a world, and abandon us just as it bursts. But there are only so many knowing shrugs and moments of Jason Schwartzman acting like the human embodiment of an :I emoticon that this drunk can handle before a little character development would be nice, if only for variety’s sake. Coppola tries to go bold and stylistic, and succeeds to an extent—the overt ridiculousness of the overall aesthetic underlines the inherent ridiculousness and sexism of the marital rules of the court. But the anachronistic music choices don’t always land, and Death of Stalin handles the potpourri of English-language accents with far more panache.

THE RULES

SIP

Every time someone enters or exits a carriage.

Dogs!

Curtsying.

An actor you recognize appears for the first time.

BIG DRINK

Marie Antoinette wakes up.

The aunts (Molly Shannon & Shirley Henderson) exchange glances.

Failed attempt at sexy times.

An opera aria begins.

LIVER TRANSPLANT WAITLIST MODE *Only for those who want to make frequent French exits to the bathroom*

Sip every time someone drinks champagne onscreen.

#drinking games #marie antoinette #sofia coppola #drama #historical drama #kirsten dunst

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projectcluclu · 5 years

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L’Obstination

They were all quite good at pretending – they had had years of practice – but even they couldn’t help but feel the weight of the empty chair looming over them at the head of the table. Silverware quietly clinked against plates and a small fire crackled in the hearth to ward off the winter chill, but that was all the silence had to feed off of. Everyone – even Julius – kept to themselves as they ate together. From time to time, the younger members of the royal family would glance around but dared not to shatter the silence, lest they be accused of not caring for their bedbound king.

It wasn’t until the younger of the princes cleared his throat that they finally put their little play to rest.

“It’s been decided. We’re to leave tomorrow morning.” “Tomorrow morning? And you inform us now?” His brother frowned as their grandmother stared with dismay. Only his wife was stone-faced; she’d known long before they had, but it still felt like a shot through her heart to hear his announcement.

“I’ve told you as soon as I could.” “When will you return this time?” “When the war is over,” he said simply.

The Queen, having lost her appetite, pushed away her plate in disgust. Saying nothing to her grandson – what could she possibly say to him? When she knew just as well as they all did that it was a risk necessary to the survival of their kingdom – she rose from the table. The three left behind stood as per etiquette until the doors to the dining hall was closed shut, but as husband and wife reclaimed their seats, the Crown Prince remained on his feet.

“Send me.” “No.” “Why not? Is my life not less valuable than yours?” “I won’t be standing on the frontlines, Julius. I’ll simply be closer to it, for ease and speed of communication.” “They’ve already encroached upon our borders. What if they continue to push forward? We would lose the war immediately the moment they capture you.” “Which won’t happen,” he said coldly. “Now I suggest you stop questioning my decision. It’s one I’ve made for your sake and the sake of our people.” “Grandfather will never allow this.” “No matter. This war is in my hands now, not Grandfather’s or yours. He’s let it drag on for long enough. It’s time to settle this matter.”

And angrily, he threw his napkin onto his unfinished dinner before storming out. Letting his shoulders drop, Julius softened his glare before turning to his sister-in-law.

“You’re allowing him to behave this recklessly?” “He’s stubborn.”

Even so, she was melancholy as she was bathed. Hugging her knees, she hid her frown as Nina poured warm water over her back. Closing her eyes, she tried to forget the expression on Julius’ face – as if she’d slapped him – before he’d also abruptly excused himself from the table. Of course she was against the idea of him leaving the safety of the capitol. But they’d been at war for two-and-a-half years now, and everyone was worn and weary. The King had refused any aggressive tactics to the point of earning the resentment of his (favorite) grandchild. He was being selfish, he’d grumbled. Weak from the peace he’d enjoyed for his lengthy reign, it’d softened him and made him unable to make the sacrifices that were required to free their people from this struggle. So the moment the King had become bedbound, and her husband’s duties had expanded to include control of their dwindling military, he’d planned this permanent expedition to the front. And nothing would stop him from going; not even her.

She opened her eyes when she felt the warm water stop. Nina had her back turned to her, her head bowed as she curtsied before her prince. Refusing to look at him, she kept her eyes on the rose petals floating in the water as Nina was sent away – no doubt just as Shirley had been. She said nothing to him as he replaced her handmaid and lowered himself onto his knees to bathe her.

She finally broke the silence after he’d finished dressing her in her nightgown. Crossing her arms, she pursed her lips together.

“Are you expecting forgiveness now?” “No.”

She was upset with him. Naturally. But the moment she saw the pain in his eyes – the guilt of leaving her – she felt her anger unravel. Desperate to keep her stance intact, she averted her gaze, but when he gently pulled her arms free from her body to hold her hands, she allowed him to intertwine their fingers together.

“You understand, don’t you?” he said softly. “It’s not a matter of understanding.” “Please. I don’t want to spend our last night together arguing.”

She recoiled at his words. Their last night. It hung in the air heavily before slowly fading away into the dull ache in her chest. But it very well could be their last night together, and he was right; she didn’t want it to be spent in argument. Reluctantly, she eased her grudge against him. Looking up at him, she asked him in an unusually small voice, “You’ll end it quickly?”

“As much as I can.” “And you’ll return to me.” “Need I even answer?”

And she opened her arms to him.

He turned one last time before going around the bend. Coaxing his horse to turn, he raised a hand, his ring glinting in the morning sun. Raising her hand weakly, she watched as he lingered until the last of the troops vanished before disappearing after them. Swallowing hard, she let her hand fall by her side as the rest of the Court resumed their lives. Behind her, Shirley gently called out for her mistress. It was cold today, and she’d best return indoors where it was warmer.

And reluctantly, she began her wait for his return.

#Bright Young Things #Part 40-something #Not the most in-character #or the best writing #But #Eh #At least I'm writing SOMEthing

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astheshadowslovethecastle · 6 years

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Theodora opened one eye. "Did you use to have a comic uncle? Everyone always laughed, whatever he said? And he used to tell you not to be afraid of the bull--if the bull came after you all you had to do was grab the ring through his nose and swing him around your head?" Eleanor tossed a pebble into the brook and watched it sink clearly to the bottom. "Did you have a lot of uncles?" "Thousands. Do you?" After a minute Eleanor said, "Oh, yes. Big ones and little ones and fat ones and thin ones--" "Do you have and Aunt Edna?" "Aunt Muriel." "Kind of thin? Rimless glasses?" "A garnet brooch," Eleanor said. "Does she wear a kind of dark red dress to family parties?" "Lace cuffs--" "Then I think we must really be related," Theodora said. "Did you use to have braces on your teeth?" "No. Freckles." "I went to that private school where they made me learn to curtsy." "I always had colds all winter long. My mother made me wear woolen stockings." "My mother made my brother take me to dances, and I used to curtsy like mad. My brother still hates me." "I fell down during the graduation procession." "I forgot my lines in the operetta." "I used to write poetry." "Yes," Theodora said. "I'm positive we're cousins."

The Haunting of Hill House, Shirley Jackson

#the haunting of hill house #books #shirley jackson

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katliveblogs · 5 years

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“Impeccable,” I greeted Jessie, as she came in the front door for the second time.

She gave me a little curtsy.

Shirley was right behind her. Shirley had our people.

I was mindful of the theatrics as I brought the four nervous people Shirley had recruited into the lab.

Each one was positioned so they stood at a specific point, facing a specific individual.

A stocky, muscular adolescent boy, swarthy, opposite someone who wasn’t so muscular, but was much the same general shape and complexion.

A tall young man with black hair slicked back and parted, opposite a near-mirror in a lab coat.

Huh. This seems like a hell of a trick to play on someone as generally cunning as Genevieve.

#katliveblogs #twigliveblog #twig15

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ztannas · 6 years

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princess cordelia presents:

how to talk to boys at parties (1/?)

multi chapter au based on this post. read on ao3 here, or below the cut!

Anne blew a loose hair from her eyes and glanced around her at the smiling faces of the party attendees. There was glitter and confetti all over the grass, sparkling in the late afternoon sun, and streamers of rainbow colors thrown haphazardly through tree limbs above. Half-empty pink cups lay abandoned on the refreshment table as adults and children alike stood in the shade of the giant oak tree, all eyes on Anne. Or, as she was known in these parts, Princess Cordelia. The Princess sat down on the grass and motioned for the children to join her. They all clambered to get as close as possible as she began to weave the tale of her ascent to the throne. A tale of daring-do and dragons, of false identities and maidens fair. A tale of wonder and romance - a tale which did not reflect Anne’s life in the slightest. The children listened with rapt attention, however, never once stopping to imagine it may not be real. The Princess in front of them in her satiny dress with puffed sleeves the color of the sky and a crown shining with azure jewels would never lie to them. She answered their questions in turn and made them gasp in surprise when she recounted the time she challenged a knight to duel without realizing he was her True Love in disguise. No, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert did not live a life of fantastical proportions, but for a few hours a week she could pretend that she did - just as those children could. Princess-For-Hire was by far the best summer job she had ever had and, honestly, she never wanted it to end. She had never thought she would get paid just to have an imagination and entertain the masses with it! Okay, so, her audience was mostly children, but who better to be completely engaged in the story? She would often get compliments from parents as well, but they, of course, had long shed their naïveté and sense of wonder. Adults mostly wanted to ask about her costume (handmade with help from Diana and Cole) and how she had the energy to keep up with their kids during games (lots of coffee). Anne sat in chair to the side of the yard enjoying a slice of cake the birthday girl’s mother had thrust into her hands with excited thankful words and watched the kids open presents. Her job was technically done, but parents always asked her to stay as long as she wanted - “the kids just ADORE you!” - and she did very much enjoy birthday cake. She scraped icing off her plate with her plastic pink fork and placed it on her tongue, a sweet burst of lemon hit her and she closed her eyes to savor it. When she opened them, the fork still in her mouth, she saw a young man about her age staring at her.

For a moment, she was transfixed by the lock his gaze had on hers. A dark hazel peered into her blue, his lips turned amusedly towards her as if they shared some sort of inside joke ― which they definitely did not! Anne felt her cheeks heating up and yanked the fork out of her mouth, her eyes moving quickly back down to the cake on her plate. She knew he was still staring despite her downcast gaze and staunchly refused to glance up until she was sure he had walked off in search of his child or younger sibling, whomever he was here with. Majority of the time, adults simply ignored her while they chatted with other parents. They were usually at least six years older than her as well, having moved on from university classes to the nice house and decent job portion of their lives. They weren’t working children’s parties on the weekend and writing English papers during the week in a studio apartment rented cheaply from their best friend’s wealthy aunt. Having strangers act so curiously around her was not something she was used to, even as a performer.

Without all the glitter and hairspray (and the occasional wig), Anne considered herself unworthy to be stared upon. Her hair, though considerably darker than it had been in her youth, was bright auburn and still flat as a board. She didn’t consider her shape to be enticing either. Unlike her curvaceous best friend Diana, Anne felt childish in her everyday clothing. She was of average height with limbs belonging more to a giraffe than a twenty-two year old woman and a hip to waist ratio that was barely two-to-one. The princess gown helped with its many tulle layers and corset binding, which Anne was glad to be able to hide behind every once in a while.

She heard a muffled creak next to her chair and her eyes went wide as she dared a side glance. The stranger had sat down beside her! The absolute gall of him to stare at her as if her appearance was somehow humorous and then pull up a chair! Some part of Anne’s brain (the more logical part that sounded quite a bit like Diana) supposed he was sitting beside her because they were possibly close in age, but the currently irritated part of her was unfortunately in the forefront.

Anne had just begun formulating a perfect HOW DARE YOU opener, when a small child ran over to the man.

A shout of “Uncle Gilbert!” rang out as the little girl embraced him. Anne watched as the man laughed and pulled her into his lap, asking if she was ready to leave. She felt her anger soften as he adjusted the ribbons on the girl’s braids and she turned away quickly, feeling bad for staring in the same way she had been irked at him for doing earlier.

A gasp suddenly came from the girl as she realized who she was sitting next to, and Anne overheard her whisper to her uncle asking if she could say goodbye to the Princess.

“Don’t you think she’s beautiful?” The little girl whispered again, “She’s tough, too. She’s got a sword ! Do you think she’ll let me hold it?”

Anne smiled and turned to the chair then. Her “sword” was really just a small, dull dagger attached to a chain on her hip, but it definitely helped her popularity with little boys and girls who wanted more excitement in their princess stories.

“This blade has been blessed by a fairy,” she said, watching the little girl’s eyes get wide, “if you aren’t worthy it’ll burn you upon contact. Do you think you’re ready?”

The child glanced up at her uncle, who nodded down at her.

“I think she is,” he locked eyes resolutely with Anne and for a moment she forgot what she had said in the first place, “Lizzie is actually a very powerful sorceress.”

He winked at her above the girl’s head and Anne choked slightly on her next sentence as Lizzie nodded affirmatively to his statement.

“All-all right, then,” Anne unhooked the sheath from the chain and placed it in the girl’s open hands, “be very careful. It seems harmless, but that’s how all magic appears.”

Lizzie’s uncle ( Gilbert , Anne’s brain prompted) took the blade out of the cover for her and placed it handle-first in her palm, then he let out a small breath, “look, no burns!”

Anne appreciated his dedication to the story and wished more adults were open to the magic of a simple play of pretend. She watched as Sorceress Lizzie gripped the handle and smiled when her hands remained unscathed. She asked Anne about the jewels on the handle ―glued with expert care by Cole on a late night costuming binge―and Anne told her a quick tale about an evil witch who hoarded gold to melt for spells. The jewels were the power Princess Cordelia had snatched from the witch, condensed into gems to be protected for the good of the kingdom.

Parents were beginning to pack up their kids and Gilbert handed the knife back to Anne, telling Lizzie to say her goodbyes. The little girl reached for one of her bows and placed it in Anne’s hand.

“It’s magic!” She whispered. Anne smiled and gave her a hug, the girl seeming to disappear in her voluminous pastel skirts for a moment.

The pair began to walk away when Lizzie started nudging her uncle back. He let go of her hand and turned to Anne, running his fingers through his dark curls for a moment. He seemed a tad sheepish now as he stepped toward her.

(Anne ignored the way this gesture made her heart yammer in her glittered bodice.)

“I’m Gilbert, by the way,” he began to reach out a hand for her to shake, then smirked at her and retracted it to cross over his chest instead, bowing deeply at the waist. Lizzie laughed at him and Anne resisted the pink spots forming on her cheeks.

“I’m actually Anne,” Anne smirked back at him―two could play this game, after all― and lifted her skirts to curtsy, “with an E.”

#anne with an e #awae #shirbert #god bless this ship name #anne x gilbert #pip: fanfiction #it's been so long i hope that's my tag #someday i'll write canon fic but that day is not today sorry

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carrotsofavonlea · 6 years

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Anne of Hogwarts

Chapter 1: the wand chooses the wizard

[AO3]

Anne nervously tapped the top of her suitcase that sat in her lap. It was frayed and the handle was crooked but that was all that she had from the orphanage.

Only hours ago had she been told she was not in fact plain old Anne Shirley, but rather Anne Shirley the witch. She'd read stories of witches from times passed, read of the horrors they had faced. But Armando Dippet, who she had learned was headmaster of Hogwarts, a school for people just like her - kindred spirits perhaps? - had told her that she would be safe and cared for with this new family. The Cuthberts.

Armando Dippet had accompanied Anne on the train to the Cuthberts. They lived in the countryside, away from the muggle world. Immediately Anne knew there would be scope for the imagination there.

A woman of about 50 met them at the door.

“Mr Dippet.”

“Ms Cuthbert.” Armando bowed his head. He was a man of tradition, after all he was over 200 years old. Anne had wanted to ask him just how he managed to live so long but the opportunity never came up. “This is the orphan I had contacted you about.”

“Anne Shirley,” Anne curtsied, looking up at the lady. “But please, that's Anne spelled with an 'e’. It's much more romantical that way, don't you think?”

“Alright. Anne with an e. You may call me Marilla.”

“I'm sure you'll fit in well here with the Cuthberts.” Armando made way to leave. “I believe you received your Hogwarts letter?”

Anne rummaged through her suitcase, holding up the crumpled letter.

“Heavens child.” Marilla scoffed at the utter mess of Anne's suitcase. “You'll need to learn to be a lot tidier than that.”

“Oh, I will Ms Cuthbert- I mean Marilla. If it means you'll keep me here, I'll do anything.”

“I look forward to seeing you at Hogwarts, Miss Shirley.” Armando disappeared right before Anne's eyes. Marilla explained it was something called apparition, which she would get the opportunity to learn in a few years.

“Can you apparate Marilla?” Anne sat at the kitchen table as Marilla made the tea.

“I don't waste my time with such ridiculous forms of transportation.”

“I'd love to fly. Just imagine being in the air! But it isn't quite the same as a bird! Oh how lovely it would be to be a bird.”

“That's enough idle chatter.” Marilla said, after Anne had asked many, many questions.

“Oh, I'm just so excited.”

Just then Marilla’s brother, Matthew, stumbled into the kitchen.

“Matthew, this is Anne.”

“Hello.” Matthew was a quiet man, only a few years younger than Marilla.

“Matthew? Oh you're just like I imagined!” Anne leapt up to meet him. He didn't know what she had meant, but hoped it was a good thing.

“I can't wait to learn everything about magic. I expect you know ever so much and can do so many wonderful things.”

“We don't possess magic.” Marilla said curtly. “Our parents did, but for some reason we were born without it. As a result we were shunned from the magical community, but Mr Dippet has been a loyal friend all these years.”

“Oh, oh how awful!” Anne put her hand across her chest. “I had no idea.”

“There now,” Matthew gently patted her shoulder. “We've had each other. And now we have you.”

“Matthew, I believe we will be kindred spirits. I know what it is like to be alone.” Anne smiled, and wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

He hesitated for a moment before returning it.

“Off to bed with you.” Marilla waved a tea towel and Anne laughed. “We have an early day if we're to go into town and get you supplies for school. I've got a pattern for the robes but we'll have to buy a wand.”

“A wand?!” Anne shouted. “I don't know how I'll possibly be able to sleep tonight.”

“You'll try.” Marilla waved her off up the stairs.

Anne didn't sleep a wink that night, certain that when she awoke she would be back in that orphanage.

Anne was up at daybreak, dressed and ready for the day.

“Slow down, Anne. You'll choke on your food.” Marilla watched in horror as Anne practically inhaled her breakfast.

“I'm sorry Marilla. I'm just so excited.” She put down her fork.

“Well, we'll go to Diagon Alley shortly.”

Marilla cleared the table just when an owl hit against the window. Anne jumped up, terrified for the poor thing.

Marilla sighed and opened the window for the owl to hop inside.

“I've told you to be careful.” Marilla scolded the owl. It was holding a letter in its talons.

“Is he ok?” Anne rushed to the owl, gently petting its head.

“Yes. The silly thing never learns. But we've had him for years, and besides, a good owl costs far too much.” Marilla didn't look up from the letter as she spoke.

The letter was merely Armando asking how Anne's first night had gone, and a reminder of everything they needed to get for Hogwarts.

Matthew had to stay behind at the farm, so just Marilla and Anne made their way to Diagon Alley. They had to take a cart to where the nearest entrance to Diagon Alley was. Anne watched in awe as Marilla tapped a pattern on the bricks of a wall, and the wall then opened up to a secret street.

The street was alive with colour and sound. For the second time Anne had been speechless. But Marilla didn't give her much time to stare as she lightly pulled Anne by the arm and they pushed through the bustling crowds. It was busy, seemingly everyone was out today getting their equipment for Hogwarts.

The first stop was Borgin and Burke's, the bookshop. Marilla was talking to the man behind the counter, trying to find second hand versions of the textbooks. Anne allowed herself to wander around the store, her heart full at all the books she'd never even heard off. Her eyes caught a strange boy sitting by himself towards the back of the store. He was tall, but seemed around her age. His hair was a dirty blonde colour and his clothes were not the neatest. He had his head bent down as he scribbled something, but as Anne got closer she saw he was in fact sketching.

“You're really good at drawing.” She said, and the boy looked up, eyes wide. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you.”

She crouched down next to him and he closed his sketchbook.

“I don't really let people see my drawing…”

“You should, you have a gift.”

The boy shook his head. “My parents don't think so. They told me going to Hogwarts should straighten me out, get me to focus on the real things.”

“You're going to Hogwarts too?” Anne smiled warmly and held out her hand. “I'm Anne Shirley.”

The boy looked at her hand before hesitantly shaking it. “Cole Mackenzie…”

“Perhaps we'll see each other?”

“Maybe.” Cole smiled, seeming a little more comfortable.

“Anne?” Marilla called throughout the book shop.

“I have to go.” She jumped up. “But it was a pleasure to meet you Cole. I hope we'll be good friends.”

Marilla and Anne squeezed their way through the crowds, arms full of textbooks cauldrons and any other equipment Anne needed. But there was one final stop. Ollivanders.

“The Ollivander family has been making wands for over a thousand years.” Marilla explained as they approached. “Every wizard in our family had a wand from Ollivanders. Well... except Matthew and I…”

Behind the counter was a man slightly older than Marilla, but begin him was a younger boy maybe a few years younger than Anne. He seemed to be teaching the younger boy about wand types, but looked up when Anne and Marilla entered.

“Marilla Cuthbert? And who might this be?”

“Mr Ollivander, this is the girl we've taken in. Anne Shirley. She's here to get her very own wand for Hogwarts.”

Ollivander looked intently at Anne, as if trying to study her.

“Well, Garrick.” He turned to the young boy, “What wand do you suggest?”

The boy - Garrick Ollivander - followed his father's behaviour and stared intently at Anne. She felt uncomfortable under such a gaze.

“Perhaps a cedar wand?”

Anne was promptly handed a smooth wand.

“Give it a try.”

She looked at Marilla and then waved it. But a bolt of light shot out the end and bounced off the walls causing everyone to duck.

“I'm sorry!” Anne immediately handed the wand back. “I don't know what I'm doing.”

“It's alright.” Ollivander laughed as he took the wand back. “The wand-”

“Chooses the wizard.” Garrick finished, smiling up at his father.

“Exactly. He's going to take over the shop when I'm old.” Ollivander had a proud smile on his face, before searching for another wand.

“Try...redwood. To match that hair.”

Anne scoffed at this, her hair a rather touchy subject. But she took the wand and something inside her just knew. She could almost feel the power she didn't know she possessed.

“Yes, that's it.” Ollivander smiled. “Your wand has chosen you.”

Marilla paid for the wand and they made their way back through Diagon Alley.

“We better make haste, Matthew will be wandering where we are.”

“Thank you, Marilla.” Anne said as they reached the wall they came in. “I've never had such lovely things.”

Marilla didn't know what to say, she felt her heart melting. She had been hesitant about taking in a child, but Matthew had convinced her. And getting to know this girl, Marilla knew she was destined for greatness.

She settled for “Come on, now.” but hoped Anne knew how much she was starting to like her.

#hogwarts au #shirbert au #anne shirley #gilbert blythe #shirbert fic #shirbert #awae #anne of hogwarts #awae fic

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