Round 3 - Return of the Meme

[hhanon]

Round 3 - Return of the Meme

General Rules

• Personal attacks and any kind of abusive trolling, hate speech, or bullying are obviously forbidden. Anon comments violating this rule will be deleted, signed in members will be banned.
• If your comment is deleted/screened/frozen and you don't know why, please email the mod at  hhanonmeme@gmail.com. (If you notice it happening to your comments and you know they're safe, a quick email for the mod to come and unscreen them would be helpful also).
• Prompt posts will close to new prompts at 3,000 comments.

Prompting Rules

• One prompt per comment. 
• Please follow the correct format (see below).
• Include trigger warnings in the subject line. Use your discretion and please be considerate.
• If your prompt is missing something, such as a subject or a warning, repost it in it’s entirety. It is not enough to reply to your own comment with the missing information. The mod will delete the previous duplicate comment.
• Multiple fills of the same prompt by different author!anons are allowed.
• If for any reason you start a fill but feel you can't finish the WIP you've created, and if you're happy to let someone finish it for you, put it up for HH Meme Fostering and Adoption.
• Prompts for projects other than Horrible Histories (ie. Spy, Gavin and Stacy, Rev, St. Trinian's, the O2 adverts etc., and RPF involving actors from those projects should be posted at the What? They've acted in other things?! post.

Format of Prompts

• Put [RPF] before RPF prompts. 
• For crossover prompts: "[Crossover], HH Character(s)/Other Character(s), [Fandom]" 
• Anyone, everyone, no one? Use "Other."
• Put [GEN] before GEN prompts, just so you don't get unwanted shipping.
• Use appropriate warnings. I'm trusting you all to know what that means.
• Don't embed any photos, videos or other media.
• Copy and paste links in full; anon comments with active coded links are marked as spam  and the mod doesn't switch accounts often enough - it may be a few days before those  screened comments are de-screened (see: emailing the mod a heads up if it happens).

Archiving Prompts and Fills

• To make the archiving job easier, please drop a link to your fill/unprompted fic here at the fills post.
• Nothing here you fancy filling? Take a look at the unfilled prompts archived here or at Round 1 or Round 2.

That's nearly the end of the storia, for onto the scene comes our much loved meme: HAIL TO THE QUEEN OF PROMPTIA.

Comments

Re: Unprompted: Blenkinsop/Maltravers - They Owe Us A Life 20a/20

[wniny.livejournal.com]

Chapter 20. It's Time

But maybe that was a good thing.
They never had to see the other grow old, never had to listen to each others ailments and the doctor appointments. They didn't have to watch their limbs getting weaker and stiffer, and how other parts just didn't react anymore. Blenkinsop did not need to see Maltravers grow fatter, and Maltravers didn't need to see Blenkinsop become skinnier and crockier.
They could keep their happy memories intact, recall the day when they could climb trees and cuddle below them. They would never know how their loved one looked when death was drawing near.
But they still missed each other, missed the company, missed each others kisses, comforting words. They missed talking to each other, they missed each others laughs and jokes. But they couldn't always miss each other, they had missed each other a whole life. They had to do other things, and somehow life got in the way off missing, and Maltravers would feel shameful when he suddenly remembered his Blenkinsop, only after telling the little Elizabeth that they where building a trench, so that they could hide from the germans. (they where actually just digging because they where going to plant a tree) He had felt so shameful, forgetting about his love, so shameful that he had to sit down on a chair, wanting to hide himself from his family. Suddenly he wanted to cry, to scream. And Ruth brought him lemonade and little Elizabeth comforted him. ”Granda, don't be sad the germs aren't here, come on, let's go and see if little Henry is alright?” Elizabeth said and smiled, tugged his grandfathers coat. His face was red, he panted a little, but made his way over the lawn, followed his little girl. She was just six, but seemed so much older. Charles' wife, Mary, was pregnant with her first, and little Henry was so cute and adorable, and only three years old.
They wrote letters, sometimes. Like when Maltravers wanted to inform Blenkinsop that he had gotten another grandson. They had named him George. Sometimes they sent christmas cards to each others. Once Blenkinsop toyed with the idea of inviting Maltravers to come visit them. But he forgot, or just didn't have the time. Or realized that he would die if he had to be separated from him one more time.
Blenkinsop had grandchildren of his own, four of them. Four of the most wonderful, happy little children that he loved more than anything in life. Susan, Lauren and the twins, Edward and (as by a miracle) Henry. The boys, where boys, and the girls... well they were boys too, they just concealed it with skirts. They liked to listen to their grandfather stories about the war (maybe because they knew that their grandmother would give them cookies), but for some reason he only remembered the good and funny bits about it.
They never forgot everything, just for short periods, or long ones, but never more than that. There was to much to forget. To much. They never tried to.
Blenkinsop would claim that he never tried to recall them, the memories then. They just came. Nestled themselves into their everyday life. They could suddenly remember things they had forgotten. Like Albert's first awkward blowjob, and how George's wife had thrown sandwiches at him.
And the years came and they went, brought joy into their lives, brought some sorrow too. And Blenkinsop once met Sotherby, they bumped into each other somewhere, a streetcorner, or was it after stepping out from a bus? And they said hi, shook hands and smiled, lifted hats, looked at each other and realised how fucking old they where. How the time seemed to past so fast, unnoticed. ”Let me buy you a drink, talk about the good times.” Blenkinsop had suggested. They were just 65 at the time, both retired. They had laughed at silly memories, and told each other stories they had forgotten. Like how Maltravers had been afraid of the dark, and George's silly plots against the american what-was-his-name.

Re: Unprompted: Blenkinsop/Maltravers - They Owe Us A Life 20b/20

[wniny.livejournal.com]

Oh, and then, even though he knew, Blenkinsop looked up at Sotherby and said:”So... Charles died so soon after the reunion? I read it in the newspaper...”
”Yes, it all came so sudden. A stroke. It's 11 years ago now.” Sotherby said. ”He managed to have at least a dozen children before that though. Not a single one with his wife. But he loved her.”
Blenkinsop smiled, they sat quiet. ”Did you ever marry, Sotherby?”
Sotherby looked up at him, and smiled, it was weak smile, a lying smile. ”What do you think?” He took a sip of his beer. ”I was madly in love. I tried, I tried so very hard to please him. But nothing, nothing ever worked.” He swallowed. ”You were lucky, Albert, lucky to love someone who loved you. You where lucky to have Maltravers, because even if it was from a distance, you always knew that he loved you.”

”Arsenal is rubbish.” Blenkinsop exclaimed and put the newspaper down. ”I still support them of course but they are really horrible. Aren't they, Ed?”
His grandson sat by his feet, and he painfully reminded him of his own youth, not that they looked anywhere near alike, no, but Ed was so alive, a happy and carefree boy. ”Rubbish.” Ed said and smiled. ”Utterly rubbish.”
”What are you two talking about?” Ed's father, Mr. Woodham, asked. He was a good man, Blenkinsop had decided. He was five years older than his Anne and had been at war, and that must mean that he was a good man.
”Arsenal.” Ed said. ”Grandfather and I have agreed that they are rubbish.” Mr. Woodham laughed.
”Yes they are rubbish this season, but it's time to go home, Ed.” Mr. Woodham said. ”Goodnight general.”
”Goodnight.” Blenkinsop said. Mr. Woodham left the room to help his wife and count the children. Ed was trying to get up from the floor when he heard his grandfather mutter something.
”What is it grandpa?”
”Nothing, nothing. But Ed, promise me to never waste your life.” Ed stared into the brown eyes but couldn't help to get distracted by the bushy white eyebrows. ”Ed, if you ever love someone do not care if it's right or wrong. Just love them. Because in the end that is all we have. Love. Right son?”
Ed nodded, there was something extremely sad in his grandfathers eyes. ”I promise grandpa. And I love you. Good night.” He kissed his cheek and joined his family in the hallway. His grandmother helped him to get his coat on.
Helen smiled, she loved her family. Her beautiful family, her pretty daughter and her handsome husband. ”Take care, children. And drive safe.” she told her son-in-law.
”Of course Helen. Say goodbye to grandmother now.” They kissed and they hugged each other. And Helen closed the door. And she locked it. And then she went back into the livingroom.
She didn't noticed at first, she thought that he was just resting, he usually did after the children had been over. ”Bertie, would you like to have fish or meat tomorrow.” She asked him when she had sat down, and continued to knit a scarf for Henry. And when he didn't react she asked again.
When she realized, when she touched her husband and didn't feel any pulse. When she realized that he was dead, then she could only cry. She cried and she hugged him. It was closest she ever got him. She hugged his body, but she had never succeeded in comforting his soul. Something she knew.
He had been a good man, she told the ambulance staff. ”A good man, a very good man.”
”He probably was, Mrs. Blenkinsop.”
”Yes, he never complained... or cared.”
And they carried him out. Out of his home, for the very last time.

Re: Unprompted: Blenkinsop/Maltravers - They Owe Us A Life 20c/20

[wniny.livejournal.com]

The funeral was sad, depressing, and horrible. Just like a funeral is supposed to be. With white flowers, lilies, roses and other ones that the alive Blenkinsop would've thought was a waste of money, but as a dead man he didn't get a say. Woman crying, men discreetly coughing to hide their sorrow. Colleagues from the army was there, sighed and told anyone who would listen what a great man he had been, that old bean.
The obituary was short. All to short for such a man, but then, one couldn't fit a life on a piece of paper. It read:

Funeral services was held for war hero General Albert Blenkinsop May 24 1971, 02.00 pm.
General Blenkinsop served in both World War I and World War II and died of old age in his home the 19th of May. He was married to Helen Blenkinsop, June 17 1922. He had one daughter and four grandchildren. Pallbearers were: Robert Barton, William Johnson, Joseph Black and John Woodham.

Helen found his letters. And his diaries. And then she knew. She finally knew. And then she cried. The man who was now gone had lived a whole pretending to be someone else. Pretending to love her, to love his life, his clothes, his home, his job, his situation. She wasn't hurt, she was just angry. Angry at him for not telling her. Not that she could have made anything better, but she had thought they could share every secret with each other. She read the letters, and she cried. And she cried.
She had thought that her Bertie loved her. But now she wondered if that was really the case. At least he had stayed, he had not shamed her and the family by running away with Maltravers. She comforted herself with that fact. He had stayed when his letters so passionately spoke of going away, leaving all behind.
If she had known that he loved someone else, what would she have done? If she had known that he was a homosexual, what would she have done? She thought about how happy he had always been in the lieutenants company, and she blamed herself for not seeing that it was love that her husband had felt for the man. But then, she had not known that such love existed.
Susan, who was only 17 at the time started writing a book about her dear grandfather, but it would last ages before she published it, with fake names and a rather vicious authors word.
Either way Helen grieved. She was just 74 and she would live well into her 90's. Not that she knew that then. ”Mom, we should write to his old friends.” Anne said. ”Tell them that he has passed.”
”They would know if they cared.” Helen said.
”All of them doesn't live in London. How would they know?” Anne looked at her mother, and the pile of letters, the letters from before, the ill disguised love-letters.
”If you so desperately want to inform another old man that his... his dear friend has died... then please, be my guest Anne.”
So Anne sat down, and with a careful hand, she wrote a short letter and included the obituary. It didn't sound quite right. And she wasn't sure, that this was the way that she would like to be informed if her husband... or, loved one... dear friend had died. She wasn't sure, why her father had kept that secret, she was devastated, she felt... she felt like she had been fooled. And it would take many years before she cleaned out the house after her mother and found out that her father had not been her father at all.
She sent the letter on the first of June. And it reached Newcastle only a short while after that.
George remembered the address, he slit the letter open. He smiled as he did so. Thinking that maybe his Albert was a grandfather again, or maybe he was just writing to tell George about his day. Or maybe he had left a cypher or... maybe, and now George was just hoping, dreaming, maybe he wanted to see him again.

Re: Unprompted: Blenkinsop/Maltravers - They Owe Us A Life 20d/20

[wniny.livejournal.com]

Dear Mr. Maltravers
It is with great grief that I am to inform you that my father, Albert Blenkinsop, died on the 19 of May this year. He was buried the 24th.
His daughter,
Anne Woodham

George felt how hot tears fell down his cheek. He gasped for air, and felt the sudden rush of smashing something. He tried his best not to cry, to be a man. But he couldn't help himself and suddenly he heard himself screaming. He hadn't screamed, or cried, so freely, without any restrictions since... well never.
It could not be true. His Blenkinsop could not be dead. He had always imagined that he would know when it happened. When Albert would die, he was sure that he would have felt, felt his heart break, his soul to split. He had always thought, that when the day came, they would die together. Or at least that he would go first. Had he not, a night in may, under a clear star-filled sky, told his spiffing mate, who had been just 15 (he just 14), that he would rather die than live a second without him. And had not the much longer brunette looked at him, and with a smile on his face kissed his nose and answered. ”I will never survive a second without you.”
And suddenly he realised just how little time they had actually spent together, and how much time they had spent longing. Longing for something that never existed, something that couldn't exist, and now it never would.
It took George three days to die. It took three days for his heart to stop beating. Three short, painful days, for his heart to realize that there was no meaning in beating anymore.
He did not die of a broken heart, his heart had been broken so many years ago. He didn't die because he was reminded about how death was slowly closing in on him. He did not die of any disease, nor was he killed in a war, or by a common criminal. He did not die in the filthy trenches, nor did he die like he had wanted to. He didn't die because of missing, like he sometimes claimed that he would.
No.
George Maltravers died, because it was time. It was time, to finally die.


The End

Re: Unprompted: Blenkinsop/Maltravers - They Owe Us A Life Thank you!

[wniny.livejournal.com]

(silly me, should have posted this first)

And now I'm are done with my little story. I hope that no one will adopt this as their head!canon. (the second part is not even my head!canon, I want them to be happy, alright!)
I am so tempted on writing a epilogue where Blenkinsop wakes up and realised that all was just a dream and Maltravers is safe and sound, next to him. But no, let's not do that.

Thank you so much for reading this. Thank you balinese_baby and my anon cavalier fiance for all the wonderful comments. I hope that anyone who have been reading this has enjoyed it and isn't too annoyed with me. (I am awfully sorry if I upset someone!)
Now, if you excuse me, I am off to read some Blenkinsop/Maltravers fluff.

Re: Unprompted: Blenkinsop/Maltravers - They Owe Us A Life Thank you!

[balinese-baby.livejournal.com]

Crying again, so so sad and so beautiful.

Thank you for giving me something to look forward to each day for the past couple of weeks. I'll miss it.

Now write us something fun and happy please.

Re: Unprompted: Blenkinsop/Maltravers - They Owe Us A Life Thank you!

[wniny.livejournal.com]

Sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry.

I am so happy that you enjoyed it, and I want to thank you for your lovely comments!

Haha, well, I am currently working two other fills, both much happier! :D

Re: Unprompted: Blenkinsop/Maltravers - They Owe Us A Life Thank you!

[(Anonymous)]

*totally loses all Cavalier-ness*

I CANNOT EXPRESS HOW BEAUTIFUL THIS IS.

Oh man.... I had to stop reading halfway through - I cried! (and I'm not one for crying over stories really, only 3 or 4 books have ever made me cry :s) But it was in a good way because you're a wonderful writer, I really enjoyed this fic, thoughI I believe it's more of a novel :D I need to read some Blenkinsop/Maltravers fluff now to reassure myself :)

Re: Unprompted: Blenkinsop/Maltravers - They Owe Us A Life Thank you!

[(Anonymous)]

:s I don't think my comment came through? So if it hasn't;

That. Was. Beautiful.

I will admit, I had to stop reading at one point because I cried and the screen went blurry :3 Just everything about those final pieces was so well written. The part where Blenkinsop met Sothers again and Charles was gone and - yeah I wanted to hug them all. And just the way you wrote Blenkinsop's bit :s it was so well done.

Thank you soooooo much for this amazing tale, I've loved coming home to find a new instalment up <3 I hope you write some fluffy stuff now :D

And now the story is over, and that I have my Cavalier horse here; shall we ride into the sunset? :D

Re: Unprompted: Blenkinsop/Maltravers - They Owe Us A Life Thank you!

[wniny.livejournal.com]

I can see both of your comments... but I am happy to get two! XD

Thank you, I am happy that I could write something that moved anyone. I wrote the core of that chapter crying myself you see. (because I am a bit "girly")

You are most welcome, dear! I am was always so happy to see your comments everyday! And I am working on several things at the moment, both muuuuuch happier.

Oh, yes, well of course! We must ride into the sunset together! C: <33