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ailendolin · 3 months

Note

For the prompts! Ian/Gabriel, gentle & fireplace please~?

Sorry for the long wait but here is your fic! I hope you enjoy it! 😊

List of prompts is here. Filled prompts are here, here, here, here and here on AO3.

Prompts are closed.

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Underneath [AO3]

One of Gabriel’s favourite things about winter in England was coming home to a warm fire and Ian’s even warmer smile. She loved walking through the snowy streets of London after a long day at the theatre but she loved coming home even more. Ian never failed to greet her at the door and begin fussing over her. The way he sometimes cradled her hands close to his chest to warm them up never always made her heart beat a little faster. It had been such a long time since anyone had been this gentle with her.

From the moment they’d met – and by met she meant properly after the dust of the failed plot had settled and Bill gave them both a place to stay – Ian had treated her as if she were a most precious jewel that deserved only the gentlest of care. Gabriel did not know why he would go out of his way to make sure she was comfortable, and she hadn’t found the courage to ask him about it yet, but that didn’t stop her from enjoying the attention, not even when Bill mercilessly teased her about it. And he teased her a lot.

“I bet he’s already waiting anxiously by the door with a warm blanket for you,” Bill grinned as they made their way home through familiar narrow streets one particularly cold January night. They were both bundled up in thick winter cloaks but the biting cold still somehow found a way inside, making them shiver as they hurried over slippery cobblestones as quickly as they dared.

“He is just being kind,” Gabriel said, pulling her cloak more tightly around her.

Bill scoffed. “Sure. That’s why he only has one blanket and always gives it to you.”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to step on Anne’s toes?” Gabriel suggested.

When Bill laughed, his breath fogged the air and several heads turned toward them. “Have you ever seen Anne waiting for me when we come home? Goodness me, that’d be the day! The best I get is a grumble about my cold hands and feet when I crawl into bed with her.”

Gabriel buried her nose deeper in her scarf, not inclined to think about Bill and Anne in bed. Or her and Ian. Not in bed, just in general. “Anne has the children to take care of. It only makes sense for her to adjust her schedule to fit theirs.”

Bill gave her an amused look. “And Ian doesn’t? Because as far as I can tell he’s the first one up in the morning and the last one to go to bed at night – the latter of which is clearly because of you. Because he likes you.”

“Nonsense,” Gabriel said, feeling heat rush to her cheeks. “It’s not like that.”

“Gabriel,” Bill said softly and stopped her with a hand on her arm. Snowflakes covered his dark hair like stars as he looked at her, all traces of teasing gone from his handsome features. “Would it truly be so bad if he did?”

Gabriel averted her eyes.

“You’ve all been kind regarding … who I am, who I’d like to be seen as,” she said carefully. “But underneath this dress, I am not the person I want to be and I never will. That’s something no amount of kindness can change.”

Understanding dawned on Bill’s face, devastating in its suddenness. “And you think Ian will mind.”

“I know he will,” Gabriel corrected him. Gesturing at her body, she added, “I mean, who wouldn’t?”

“Oh Gabriel,” Bill said and without saying another word stepped forward to pull her into a hug. Blinking against the sudden onset of tears, Gabriel burrowed the tip of her nose deep into the warm wool of his cloak and let herself be held for a moment. When Bill drew back to cup her face and wipe away a stray tear with his gloved thumb, she sniffed and managed a watery smile. “For what it’s worth I think Ian knows exactly what he’s getting himself into with you and doesn’t care what’s under your dress. He likes you, Gabriel; your beautiful smile, your sense of humour, your accent – not what is or isn’t between your legs.”

Gabriel’s eyes widened.

“Bill!” she hissed, glancing around to make sure no one had heard him.

Bill just chuckled before he gently tugged her along. “I’m just saying – he seems like someone who puts more value in good character than appearance. You two are not so different in that regard.”

Gabriel cocked her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve seen his scars,” Bill said quietly as they passed into another alley. “And I don’t just mean the one on his leg I’m responsible for. You must have noticed how self-conscious he is about them.”

She had. Ian had been terribly embarrassed when he regained consciousness from the fever his wound caused and found himself wearing a simple nightshirt rather than the clothes he remembered wearing. He hadn’t needed to ask who had taken care of him after the infection had rendered him unconscious, not with the way Anne, Bill and Gabriel had been hovering at his bedside when he’d woken. None of them had mentioned it but the next morning when Gabriel offered to help him change, he had flinched back violently and refused to let her touch him or even see him uncovered. He had looked so ashamed in that moment that Gabriel’s heart still ached just thinking about it. She had not thought him ugly or disfigured when she saw his scars – she had thought him brave and beautiful.

Which was exactly the point Bill was trying to make. “I see what you mean.”

“Good,” Bill smiled and linked arms with her.

Perhaps he was right. Maybe she needed to stop worrying about the things she couldn’t change and instead start to embrace the possibility that other people – Ian – might like her exactly the way she was. The thought was both terrifying and exhilarating. Gabriel had never allowed herself to even think she could be loved like that, that someone could look at her and want all parts of her, but now? Now the idea did not seem quite so preposterous anymore.

Her heart began to beat a little faster on the last stretch of their journey. Gabriel barely felt the pinpricks of snow against her cheeks as she thought of Ian and his kind smile that always seemed a little brighter when he was looking at her. Would he be waiting for her this evening again? Did he put another log onto the fire just so the kitchen would be warm and welcoming when she came home? Would he perhaps even sit with her in the gentle glow of the firelight and hold her hands until they no longer felt cold to the touch?

Gabriel suddenly realised the answer to all these questions was yes, she hoped he would, and nearly stumbled over a slightly raised cobblestone in the process.

“What are you smiling about?” Bill asked. His knowing grin told her he already knew the answer.

“Nothing,” she hurriedly said. Then, in a small voice that sounded strange to her own ears, she asked shyly, “Do you really think he likes me? Like that?”

Bill’s grin softened. “I think he’d be a fool not to.”

Gabriel groaned. “That’s not an answer, Bill!”

Bill chuckled and pulled her against his side. It was something her older brother used to do, back when she was still a boy and he wanted to give her the courage to talk to their neighbour’s daughter, unaware that she was actually more interested in the neighbour’s son. The memory made her heart ache with homesickness.

“He likes you, Gabriel,” Bill said with an earnestness that left no room for doubt. “And I think you like him too.”

Gabriel ducked her head. “Maybe a little.”

Bill laughed again and the happy sound settled warmly in her chest.

“A little, huh?” he teased.

“Maybe more than that,” Gabriel admitted, a small smile tugging at her lips when their home finally came into view. The door was open and she could see Ian standing there with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders against the cold, staring into the night. He was waiting for them, just like she’d hoped he would.

His face lit up with unrestrained relief when he saw them. “There you are! I was beginning to think something had happened to you!”

“Nothing happened,” Bill reassured him and let Ian usher him inside. He glanced at Gabriel and added, “We just had a few epiphanies along the way.”

Ian frowned but instead of asking what Bill meant, he quietly helped them take off their cloaks so he could shake off the snow outside before hanging them up to dry.

“Here,” he said as he took Gabriel’s cloak. He held out his blanket to her. “You must be freezing.”

Ignoring the knowing grin on Bill’s face, Gabriel wrapped the warm fabric around her shoulders and began to take off her shoes. “Thank you, Ian.”

She placed them neatly by the door, just like Ian liked it, before she followed him into the kitchen. Bill trailed after her, still grinning as if she and Ian were the funniest thing he’d seen in a while. The most entertaining certainly, Gabriel wagered, as she turned around to glare at him. When she nodded toward the door, silently begging him to go, he rolled his eyes in the most annoying and fond way possible and yawned loudly.

“I think I’m going to bed now,” he announced, accompanied by another fake yawn.

He really was a terrible actor, Gabriel thought.

Luckily for her, Ian was too focused on tending to the fire to notice Bill’s anything but subtle attempt to give them some privacy. He merely at Bill over his shoulder and said, “Goodnight,” in that soft way of his before he turned back around to reach for another log.

“Night, you two,” Bill said. He met Gabriel’s eyes one last time and, giving her the thumbs up, mouthed, “Good luck!”

And then Gabriel was alone with Ian.

She’d been alone with Ian plenty of times before but this was different. This time, Gabriel found herself acutely aware of every breath Ian took and every movement he made, be it a wince when he straightened and his knees cracked or the slight twitch of his mouth that heralded the beginning of a smile when he lifted his head to look at her. Her eyes roamed over his face, taking in the lovely shape of his nose and the dark blue colour of his eyes before they landed on the hint of stubble that was accentuating his jawline. It suited him, she found, and her heart quickened at the thought.

“Would you like something to drink before you go to bed?” Ian asked. “Or perhaps some stew? We’ve got some left over from dinner. I could warm it up for you.”

His eagerness to help made her smile. Back when they were just starting to get to know each other, Gabriel had been worried it was rooted in fear. She’d seen first hand how the earl had treated him and how desperately Ian had tried to be one step ahead of him at all times and give him no reason to get angry at him. The thought that he was expecting the same anger from her, Anne and Bill had made her stomach twist for weeks until Anne, bless her, had brought the topic up one night over dinner.

“Oh no, it’s not that,” Ian had said, looking genuinely surprised. “I just like being helpful.”

Gabriel wasn’t quite sure if that had been the whole truth back then; it had not escaped anyone’s notice how terribly he’d flinched that one time he accidentally spilled some soup, or how warily he’d looked up when Anne had dropped to her knees beside him to help him clean up the mess. But she had no doubt that it was true now. The last few months under the Shakespeare’s roof had done Ian good. He looked healthier now, his face rounder and the shadows under his eyes less pronounced; he stood straighter too, as if he’d finally rediscovered his self-worth. Gabriel had thought him handsome before but now with the firelight softening his healthy features and his smile coming more easily to him, he took her breath away.

“Gabriel?” Ian asked, pulling her out of her thoughts. There was a slight crease of worry between his brows. “Would you like some ale or stew?”

Ale and stew were the farthest thing from her mind in that moment. “Will you sit with me for a moment, Ian?”

The soft request took him by surprise. A little nervously, he wiped his hands on his apron and joined her on the bench by the table. “Have I done something wrong?”

There it was again, a little flicker of that age-old fear Croydon had installed in him. Gabriel had a feeling it would always be a part of Ian, no matter how well he had it under control now. It made her wish their paths had crossed earlier in life. Maybe then things would have been easier for both of them.

“Of course not,” she reassured him with a smile. “I’d just rather talk to you than watch you running around fetching me things.”

“But if you’re hungry …”

“I’m not,” Gabriel laughed. Ian stared at her for a moment before he let out a small chuckle and relaxed. “It’s sweet, though, how much you care and worry. I really appreciate it.”

Ian ducked his head. “But …?”

“But I do hope you know it’s okay not to put others first all the time,” she told him softly. “You don’t have to wait up for me and Bill every night. It’s kind of you to do it but not really worth losing sleep over.”

Ian, still looking down at his hands, was quiet for a moment. Then, in a voice no louder than a whisper, he admitted, “I sleep better when I know you’ve made it back safely. London is a dangerous place, especially at night. Awful things can happen and I – I’d rather wait up for you than wake up the next morning and find out you’ve never made it back.”

Suddenly feeling like she’d stepped into a hornet’s nest, Gabriel asked cautiously, “Did that ever happen before? That someone you cared about did not make it home?”

Ian closed his eyes. “It was a long time ago.”

“Oh Ian,” Gabriel whispered and then, taking a leaf out of his book, gently took one of his hands in hers and cradled it as if it was the most precious things in the world. “I am so sorry. I had no idea.”

“It’s all right,” Ian sniffled. He looked down at their hands for a moment before he met Gabriel’s eyes. “I’m just glad you’re home, Gabriel.”

He’d never called the house a home before – his home. The fact that he was doing so now while looking at her like that not only took Gabriel’s breath away but made her heart beat frantically inside her chest. She smiled at him and, feeling warmth spread through her that had nothing to do with the fire crackling merrily in the hearth beside them, told him softly, “Thank you for looking out for me. No one’s ever done that before.”

Ian’s eyes softened. “I would look out for you for the rest of my life if you permitted it.”

The confession was shy, timid – as if he was afraid to be heard, or had already made up his mind that his affections were not welcome. Gabriel thought back to what Bill had said about his scars, about how Ian was just as self-conscious about his body as she was, and she knew she had to tread carefully now and be very, very gentle.

“Would you let me do the same?” she asked, keeping her voice soft and quiet. “Would you let me worry about you in return?”

The surprise on Ian’s face made her heart ache. “You’d want to?”

Gabriel nodded. “I do.”

His eyes began to shimmer wetly in the firelight. “But I’m–“

“Caring, brave and beautiful,” Gabriel finished for him. “The kindest person I have ever met.”

With a nervous chuckle, Ian ducked his head – though not quite quickly enough for Gabriel to miss the two red spots that had appeared high on his cheeks. “You can’t possibly mean that.”

“But I do, Ian,” Gabriel said and gently reached out to tilt his face up. Her hand was shaking when their eyes met. For a heartbeat, they looked at each other – both of them scared, unsure and full of hope. Then Gabriel gently pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth and whispered again, “I do.”

She did not know where that rush of courage had come from but when she pulled back and heard his faint, breathless, “Oh,” she found it hard to regret it. Ian looked completely stunned, and she hadn’t even kissed him properly yet. “Me? Are … are you sure?”

Gabriel’s heart melted.

“Are you sure?” she asked instead of answering him and gestured at her body.

A look of sudden devastation crossed Ian’s face and Gabriel knew with sudden clarity that Bill had been right: what was or wasn’t underneath her skirts was and never would be an issue. It had not even occurred to Ian that it could be until she’d brought it up, and whatever lingering doubts she might have still had at this point dissolved into nothingness when he took her face in his hands and bestowed an almost desperate kiss upon her lips.

“I am,” Ian whispered breathlessly into the space between. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

“Good,” Gabriel smiled. She gazed at him for a moment, drinking in the look of wonder that softened his face. “Neither have I.”

They met halfway for another kiss, and when Ian reached up to bury his fingers in her hair, Gabriel closed her eyes and silently thanked Bill for giving her a push in the right direction.

#gabriel montoya #bill shakespeare #ian #gabrian #bill 2015 #my fic #ask game prompt ficlet

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ailendolin · 5 months

Text

Far Away - A Gabrian Fic

Title: Somewhere Far Away [AO3]

Characters: Ian/Gabriel, Anne, Bill, the children

Summary: Anne and the children move back to Stratford. Ian goes with them. Gabriel doesn't.

A/N: Merry Christmas (to everyone who celebrates)!

————

Far Away

“One day, I’d love to have a quiet life in a village, somewhere far away from here.”

When he’d said those words to Gabriel on a dark and gloomy night in London, Ian had no idea how much pain they would bring.

He’d come home feeling cold and utterly miserable that day. When Gabriel asked him if he was all right, instead of swallowing his frustrations like he usually would, he’d told her about the people who kept shoving past him in the streets, not caring if he stumbled and fell into the mud. About the sellers in the market who used to take his money with bright smiles on their faces and now sneered and spit at him when he walked past because of Croydon’s involvement in the plot. And he’d told her about the man who had pulled him into a dark alley and held a knife to his throat on his way home, and how he’d taken what little money he’d had left and scattered everything he’d bought at the market all over the dirty cobblestones.

“God, I really hate this place sometimes,” Ian had finished with a sigh before he’d let his head fall onto the table with a dull thud. A moment later, he’d felt Gabriel’s hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. That unexpected gesture of comfort let him almost forget that he was still shivering and dripping water all over the floor.

Ian had known she’d listened to every word he’d said that night. But he hadn’t quite realised that Gabriel had taken his complaints to heart until Anne approached him one morning a few days later and told him she and the children would be moving back to Stratford-upon-Avon.

“I don’t want to leave Bill but you know how it is here. London is no place for children who are used to gentle green hills and clear blue lakes.” She paused, looking at him. “Gabriel tells me you’re not happy here either – is that true?”

“Well,” Ian began, taken aback by her question. “I’ve been a lot happier since I started working for you and Bill.”

Anne regarded him quietly for a moment. “Happier and happy aren’t the same thing, Ian.”

“I know,” Ian said. “But you’ve given me a home, too. A family. Living in London is a small price to pay for that.”

“What if you didn’t have to live here, though?” Anne asked him. “What if you came with me and the children to Stratford? Because I’ve been talking to Bill and Gabriel and we think it would be a good idea.”

Ian’s heart missed a beat. “Me? Living in Stratford?”

Anne nodded. “I could really use your help there, Ian. There’s much to do around the house, and you know how the children can be a handful.”

He did. There was never a dull moment in the Shakespeare household when the twins got that mischievous twinkle in their eye they’ve clearly inherited from their father.

“Susanna is already a big help but she’s still a child herself,” Anne went on. “And I want her to be able to be a child, Ian. I want her not to have to look after her brother and sister all the time, or cook dinner every day or clean the house. Does that make sense?”

“Yes,” Ian whispered, looking down at his feet. He knew the kind of childhood Anne was worried about – he’d lived that kind of childhood. The thought of beautiful, brave Susanna being reduced to nothing but a workforce, a mother and housewife in training, made him shudder. She deserved better.

He felt Anne take his hands in hers. “So you’ll come with us?”

Did he even have a choice? Ian wondered. As much as he considered the Shakespeares his family, he couldn’t ignore the fact that they were his employers too. Anne might have phrased her request as a question but if he said no, she could easily just hire someone else, someone who’d leave London because in a heartbeat they hadn’t yet had the chance to meet Gabriel and fall in lo–

He clenched his jaw tightly and willed that thought away. Forcing a smile, he said, “If you think I could be of more use to you in Stratford than to Bill and Gabriel here, I will go with you to Stratford.”

“Oh Ian, thank you!” Anne said and pulled him into a quick, heartfelt hug. “I promise you’ll love it there! It’s just the kind of village you told Gabriel about, peaceful, picturesque, quiet ...”

Somehow, Ian managed to keep smiling until she’d left the kitchen to start packing. It was only when the door fell shut behind her that he sank down onto the bench and put his head in his hands. He didn’t doubt that Stratford would turn out to be everything he’d always dreamed of. The only problem was that his dreams had always included Gabriel. He wanted that quiet life away from the city with her, not on his own. Not that he had ever told anyone that. Gabriel was his friend, nothing more. Someone like her – brilliant, confident, beautiful – would never be interested in someone like him, dull and common. Ian had made his peace with that a long time ago, thinking it would be enough to live under the same roof with her and see her smile every day.

Only now he wouldn’t even have that.

————

A week later, he said his goodbyes. He tried to keep them short but when he held out his hand for Gabriel to shake, she pulled him into a hug that lasted longer than any other hug they’d ever shared before.

“Promise you’ll write to me,” she whispered into his ear. “I want to hear all about your new life in Stratford.”

Ian didn’t have the heart to tell her that he dreaded that life she was speaking of. So he simply nodded and, just for a moment, held her a little more tightly.

He didn’t look back when he got onto the carriage. He took the reins in hand and gently urged the horse to go so no one would see the tears he could no longer swallow. Behind him in the cabin, Anne and the children were talking excitedly about finally going home, and it took all his willpower not to cry as they left London behind them, and with it the only home he’s ever known.

————

Stratford was everything Anne had promised it would be. The hills were green, the rivers gently flowing and the meadows full of flowers. The people were kinder and more welcoming than he could have possibly hoped for. It was, in one word, perfect.

Ian was absolutely miserable there.

He tried not to show it. When Anne and the children greeted him in the morning, he smiled like he always had and asked them what they had planned for the day. When he went to the market, he grinned at the jokes the butcher liked to tell and told one in return. And when young Hamnet sneaked into the kitchen in the evening to dip his spoon into the soup for a quick taste before dinner, he laughed and shooed him away just like he used to in London.

It was only when the house was quiet or he was outside, tending to the garden, that the mask fell away. Then he would sit by himself, shoulders drooping and thinking about the way Gabriel’s eyes lit up when she laughed or how pretty she had looked in the candlelight that one evening he’d made her smile for the first time. She was always in his thoughts these days. Ian had never missed anyone as fiercely as her before, and with every that passed without a letter from her his heart felt heavier.

These days, her letters were the only thing he found himself looking forward to. As promised, he had written her as soon as they’d arrived in Stratford, and Gabriel had written back almost immediately with all the latest news from London and the play she and Bill were working on. That letter had been the first thing that had genuinely made him smile since he’d left.

“You’re looking cheerful today,” Anne remarked one day while they were preparing lunch together. “Has another letter arrived from London?”

Ian felt his cheeks heat up.

“Earlier this morning,” he mumbled without looking up from the carrots he was cutting.

“I’m glad,” Anne told him softly. She didn’t say anything more on the subject but Ian could feel her gaze lingering on him all through lunch, thoughtful and worried.

————

When summer turned into autumn, Anne told him they would be going back to London for the opening night of Bill’s play. Ian was over the moon. It would only be for a week but a week was better than nothing. He would get to see Gabriel again! Even just the thought of hearing the old, familiar stairs creak under her feet again when she came down for breakfast in the morning – always the first one to wake after him – and seeing her smile at him when she told him, “Good morning, Ian. Something smells very delicious,” made his heart ache with longing.

Then young Judith fell ill, and a few days after her brother did too. It was just a cold, not the plague, thank god, but they were bed-ridden and feverish for so long that Anne had to cancel their trip to London. Ian had known it was coming, had mentally prepared himself for it, but when she told him the news he still felt tears prick at his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Ian. I know you’ve been looking forward to the play,” Anne said quietly.

The play. Right.

“There’ll be others,” Ian told her as confidently as he could manage. His smile felt terribly wobbly so he added, “I’ll be in the garden if you need me.”

Once outside, he leaned against the wall and took several shuddering breaths. Crying never got one anywhere – that’s what his mother used to say. But in that moment he wanted nothing more than to sink to the ground and allow the tears to come.

————

His letters to Gabriel grew shorter as autumn settled in fully and heavy storms began to wreak havoc over the land. There was nothing new to tell; only the same old things. He’d long since run out of both words and energy to make life in Stratford sound exciting.

He didn’t have the energy for a lot of things these days.

Still, life had to go on and if there was one thing Ian was good at it was stubbornly putting one foot in front of the other, day in and day out. He carried on, tried to smile, tried to be happy for the sake of Anne and the children. But every once in a while he slipped up, like that one time when Gabriel asked him in one of her letters, Please tell me if I’m being too forward but – are you okay, Ian? Because you don’t sound like you are struggling.

Her letter had arrived on a bad day in the middle of November: he’d lost his footing in the mud on his way home from the market and twisted his ankle so badly he’d had to hobble home. And as if that hadn’t been bad enough already, he’d also managed to tear his beloved cloak during the fall, the one Gabriel had made for him just before he’d left for Stratford.

It had been too much. He’d come home and, ignoring Anne and the children’s worried questions, limped up to his room without saying a word. When he saw the letter waiting for him on his desk, he couldn’t have stopped the tears even if he’d tried. With his ankle throbbing painfully and his old, battered heart in pieces over the cloak, he’d read the latest news from London and then, right at the end, the question that made him pick up the quill and finally tell Gabriel the truth.

I miss you.

————

The night before Christmas, there was a gentle knock on his door. Ian tore his gaze away from the heavy snowfall outside the window and softly called, “Enter.”

He wasn’t surprised to see Anne, not after the talk they’d had with the children over dinner. He pulled up his legs a little to make some space for her on the bed before he asked quietly, “They’re not coming, are they?”

Anne sighed. “I didn’t want the children to lose hope but even if Bill and Gabriel decided to try, I don’t think they can make the journey in this weather.”

She sounded as dejected as he felt. It had been snowing for three days now, so heavily and continuously that he needed to clear the path from the front door down to the road every few hours so they wouldn’t get snowed in. Travelling in this weather was madness, and yet a tiny, childlike, hopeful part of him had still hoped that Gabriel and Bill would be home for Christmas.

His fingers curled into the blanket. “I figured.”

“I’m sorry, Ian,” Anne said softly.

Ian frowned. “What for? The weather’s not your fault.”

“No, but–“ She stopped herself with a shake of her head. “We’ll visit them as soon as we can, all right? The moment the weather clears and the roads are safe to travel, we’ll go to London. I promise.”

Ian was too tired to offer her more than an exhausted nod. “I’ll better go clear the path again.”

Anne silently watched him go.

He would drag himself out of the warm comfort of his bed three more times that night to shovel snow but he didn’t mind. There wasn’t anything to look forward to on Christmas Day anyway.

————

The sky was already a pale pink when Ian woke up the next morning. Tired and aching everywhere, it took him far longer than it should have to realise he’d overslept but when he did, he nearly fell over his own two feet in his hurry to get out of the bed. Anne and the children would be awake already and he hadn’t even started making breakfast yet!

With guilt churning in his stomach, he washed and dressed as quickly as he could. A quick glance out of the window told him he would have to clear the path again so he hastily donned his cloak, now mended with slightly off-colour yarn, before he left the room. The smell of freshly baked bread filled the air when he came downstairs and laughter filtered out into the hallway from the kitchen. Stopping for a moment to listen, Ian closed his eyes and let the joyous sounds wash over him as he willed his nervous heart to slow down a little. Anne wouldn’t be mad at him for sleeping in. Surely she would have woken him up–

“Be careful of the fire, Hamnet!”

Ian. That wasn’t Anne or Susanne’s voice, that was–

“Dad, come on,” Hamnet said in that whiny tone all children seemed to possess from the moment they could talk.

Staring at the door, Ian suddenly felt his heart in his throat. Bill was here – but how? And did that mean–?

“Ask your Auntie Gabriel how dangerous fire can be,” Bill said, clearly trying not to laugh. “She nearly burned down my stage during rehearsals last week.”

“That was an accident and you know it,” Gabriel grumbled.

Ian’s eyes began to burn. He did not know how Gabriel and Bill had made it to Stratford all the way from London in a snowstorm and he did not care. They were here – Gabriel was here. Not miles and miles away but here, in this house, just behind a door. With every word he could hear, that gaping hole in his chest slowly grew smaller, and when he realised how easy it suddenly was to breathe now that he’d heard her voice again, the world around him began to blur. He had to support himself on the doorframe, afraid his legs would give out, but was not fast enough to press a hand to his mouth to stifle the helpless sound that escaped him.

“Did you hear that?” Gabriel asked.

Before he even had a chance to regain his composure or hide his face, the kitchen door opened and Ian forgot how to breathe as he laid eyes on Gabriel for the first time in months. The firelight behind her softened the gentle contours of her face and highlighted her beautiful dark hair – longer now than Ian had ever seen it. She looked like an angel sent from Heaven as she stood there before him, and as he had so often before Ian felt hopelessly inadequate in her presence.

“Sorry,” he managed to croak out. It wasn’t quite the first thing he’d meant to say to her after all this time but it would have to do. He knew he must look a shaking mess and people usually didn’t like it when he was anything less than perfectly composed, so he–

“Ian,” Gabriel said, her voice soft and cautious as if he were something fragile and precious that needed to be protected. Gently, she closed the door behind her so the others wouldn’t see him like this. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Ian wanted to laugh.

“Nothing,” he said, a little helplessly, and wiped at his eyes. “I just didn’t expect you to be here today and I’m – I’m so happy to see you, Gabriel.”

Gabriel’s eyes softened before she stepped forward and pulled him into a warm, gentle hug. “I’m happy to see you too, Ian.”

When she didn’t let go immediately, Ian allowed himself to close his eyes and lean into her embrace. She smelled of snow and apples, and he smiled through his tears when he realised what that reminded him of: home.

Their hug lasted even longer than their hug goodbye had; certainly longer than was proper. Everything in Ian was telling him to pull back and bring some distance between the two of them but he couldn’t bring himself to, not when he knew it was only a matter of time until they would have to say goodbye again. He knew he had to make the most of this moment if he wanted to get through the next few lonely months, so he held on tight and tried to commit everything about Gabriel to memory: how soft her hair felt against his fingers, the way her breath ghosted across his neck, how gentle her hands were as they moving up and down his back, trying to comfort him.

When they finally pulled apart, Ian reached for the edge of his coat to dry his face. With a gentle touch to his arm, Gabriel stopped him mid-motion. She offered him a beautifully embroidered handkerchief instead and Ian took it gratefully. When he promised her to clean it before returning it to her, she laughed and said, “Oh, how I’ve missed you, Ian.”

His breath caught in his throat.

“Really?” he asked in a small voice.

A little shy, Gabriel ducked her head and nodded. “More than I probably should have.”

And just like that, Ian found himself telling her everything – how he hadn’t wanted to leave her but didn’t know how to say no; how he’d always imagined his life in the country with her by his side, and not Anne and the children; how terribly he’d missed her these last few months, and how difficult it had become to find a reason to smile when she wasn’t there to brighten up his days.

By the time he had finished unburdening his heart, he was out of breath and clutching the handkerchief so tightly in his hands the blood was draining from his knuckles. His heart was racing a mile a minute, fearing her rejection or perhaps her ridicule.

Neither ever came.

“I had no idea you’d wanted that life with me,” Gabriel whispered. She looked at him in awe for a long moment that seemed to stretch into eternity before she boldly reached up to cradle his face in her hands. “I never should have let you go.”

With that, she pulled him into a kiss.

Ian had never kissed anyone before – not like this, not in any way that mattered. His eyes fluttered close and for a few beautiful, incredible seconds, his world narrowed down to the feeling of Gabriel’s lips against his and the warmth of her palms against his cold cheeks. It was breath-taking and heart-stopping, and over way too soon.

“This was what you meant, right?” Gabriel asked shyly, still gently holding his face.

A laugh bubbled out of Ian and he finally allowed himself to reach for her too. The handkerchief fell to the ground, forgotten, as he brushed away a stray lock of hair from her forehead, once again marvelling at the soft texture of it.

“I never dared to hope … I mean, why would you–?“ He cut himself off with a shake of his head. Gabriel never liked it when he talked badly about himself. So he smiled instead and confessed, “I think I’ve loved you from the moment you stepped into Croydon’s kitchen and offered to help me prepare lunch for your king.”

“You were so exhausted that day,” Gabriel remembered softly. Her thumb brushed over his cheek, calm and soothing. “I cannot say if I loved you then but I certainly felt a kinship with you that day. I was so glad when you came home with us that day when Croydon got arrested. Taking care of you while you recovered and seeing you smile for the first time – that’s when I knew I’d lost my heart.”

She kissed him again and Ian found himself smiling against her lips. He knew there were things they needed to discuss – things he wouldn’t be able to stop worrying about once he’d had a chance to clear his head. But as they stood there in the hallway, closer than ever before, all that mattered was the feeling of Gabriel’s skin beneath his fingertips and the warmth of her smile.

The worrying could wait.

#ian #gabriel montoya #gabrian #bill 2015 #bill the film #my fic #anne hathaway #bill shakespeare

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