#tonda x fem reader

[rumblelibrary]

Night Finds [Tonda x Fem!reader]

Warnings: SMUT, mentions of blood

Author’s note: here is midnight now so: happy birthday @archangelproperty

“Think of me”

She said and he felt her voi e shake through già body.

“Find me”

He woke up sweating, cold sweat over his temples as his breath erratic. He could barely tell the truth from the dream.

It was still dead of the night, Krabat was sound asleep nearby like the others.

He rubbed his temple again.

He couldn’t remember what the dream was about.

There wasn’t much he could do.

He got his heavy coat on and decided to have a walk around, get his mind free from all of that.

All those worries.

As the cold wind of winter smacked against his face he almost doubted his choice but he was halfway out there.

He walked quietly his way out, he actually liked the gloomy weather.

To take long walks and just try to clean up his mind without being forced to think about too many things at time.

He got soon distracted while he was getting into the woods to witness a hunter drag a wolf by the neck. He pulled the animal with a knife in the end.

“Turn and I will let you go” the man kept repeating but the wild animal growled and showed its teeth.

“”Then you’ll die” the man concluded just for Tonda to step in.

“Let the beast GI, you have nothing to eat from it”

“Go back to your home kid, this is none of your business”

The man quickly replied only to be bitten harshly on the neck by the wolf.

The man screamed punching the wolf in the ribs as the creature let go of him and rolled on the ground.

He covered the side of his neck ready to get it back at the wolf.

But he was lacking his knife.

The item was safe in Tonda’s hand who was pointing it at him.

“Go back to your home kid” he said just as the hunter said to him.

The man gulped but he had to find a way out because lots of blood was getting out of his neck.

He huffed and almost growled to tonda before going away.

The wolf whined lightly as Tonda came closer to it and used his body weight to keep him down “shhh relax”

The wolf was incredibly still as he checked the ribs of the animal to make sure nothing was broken.

The wolf whines and kicked getting up and it stared at him.

The animal wiggled lightly the tail before moving away from him.

Then it turned and stared at him and kept walking.

Tonda blinked not really sure but he just followed it.

He did, what was for him to lose?

He followed the wolf in the depth of the woods to spring. The wolf wiggled lightly the tail before rushing to the side of some rocks where a small hideout was awaiting.

Tonda didn’t know what to expect. Maybe pups or some corpses. He didn’t know.

But when he walked inside the wolf stood on two legs pushing him on the floor.

He wasn’t expecting it so he landed on the ground behind him.

A groan left his lips as the wolf put a large paw on top of his chest. The paw turned into an hand and the hairy body in a soft naked figure, hair surrounding a sweet look.

“You saved me”

He gulped and nodded as a naked woman straddled him.

“I owe you this” you said as he gasped trying to answer but you kissed him and when he felt the kiss he knew. You must be one of those creatures dragging lost men crazy in the woods.

“Wait, I need to go, I can’t”

“I owe you” you said again and he groaned softly as he warm body leaned against his coldish one.

“Tell me your name stranger”

He shook his head afraid you would steal his soul.

“Tell Me”

Your fingers moved down onto his waistband, he never felt like this before, it was a lifetime he didn’t stand close to a girl, let out one this beautiful.

“No”

“Why not?”

“You will steal my soul” he said and you giggled wholeheartedly.

“I am not hungry of souls”

He looked at you puzzled.

“You summoned me stranger, with your magic and silent rituals, I felt you and I responded to your call”

His eyes widened to your talks.

“I didn’t meant to, I swear I don’t”

“Don’t be so nervous, it won’t hurt” the way you said it made think of all the other way around.

“Fuck”

He groaned her naked body lowered over his naked half and he felt the whole of you around him.

His hands grasped your hips to keep you still.

“Don’t you remember? You called for me”

He stared at you as you bent over him touching over his chest.

He remembered to wish to have someone. To touch someone. To feel like he was just feeling.

“I never meant to”

“I know” you said “but I have listened” you added then as her nose brushed against his.

He relaxed his arms not detaining you anymore, so you begun moving again and if that was his way to go, it was well welcomed.

He observed you in all you features, he groaned for pleasure, his fingers sinking into your thighs but still not giving in too much, he was trying to keep focused.

“That man”

“He understood what I was” you explained as he kept not giving in even if the pleasure was getting onto you too.

“But I had a deal with you”

Tonda gasped softly, his soft curls rolling over his forehead as he stared at you.

“Do you?” He asked and you nodded quietly as your moves were still slow, too slow.

He looked at you not tolerating that slowness anymore, if this was the end so be it.

He pulled onto you grabbing onto your waist as he pushed you onto the ground taking over you.

“What are you-“

You got interrupted as he kissed you pushing his lips against yours.

He grabbed onto your thigh holding you up to snap his hips against yours going deeper and harder.

You whimpered as a little shriek came out of your lips, your legs wiggled a bit looking for some way to regain control.

But he was strong and he was good, his hands were dirty and calloused of so much work in the fields and it was a terrible contrast over your silky skin.

Your skin was like water under his hands, your body engulfed his as he bent over you and you grabbed his shoulders for balance.

“What are you?” He asked as he brushed his lips against yours, your lips brushing against his at every thrust.

But you couldn’t answer, you didn’t have a chance to because you could almost feel him take over you, over your powers. His aura was becoming so much stronger than yours and overwhelmingly strong.

It seemed like this was coming over you, all over you.

You squeezed him closer and moaned loud and louder, he was growing stronger as you grew weaker.

“What are you?”

You asked back at him biting onto his lips.

His body was strong, he moved over you without letting you go for a second, without giving you the chance to take over.

He grabbed onto your hips pushing deeper and harder inside you until you bent your back trembling as a rush of unseen pleasure came over you.

He stopped after your orgasm.

He stared at you a little more and his lips opened into a wide smirk “you’re a winter nymph, aren’t you?”

You gulped down nodding frantically.

“Good” he smirked “I have not finished with you”

#daniel bruhl #tonda #krabat movie #tonda fanfiction #tonda ff #tonda x fem reader #daniel bruhl fanfiction #daniel bruehl

[mysoftboybensolo]

The Princess and the Miller

A/N: In honor of @monsieurbruhl​ reaching 1,000 followers as well because I can’t stop thinking about her post, I decided to make a Tonda one-shot. It deviates a little from the original post, but I hope you all still like it. BTW I haven’t read the book or seen the movie, but after reading up on it, I am going to go with an alternate version of this world. Hope you enjoy.

Pairing: Tonda x Fem!Reader. No use of Y/N.

Warnings: Alternate Universe, Angst, Fluffy Smut, Happy Ending.

You had always been told that when you turned 21, you’d marry a prince. It was a marriage arranged since your infancy, you hadn’t met your betrothed and yet you were in a carriage on your way to his kingdom to marry him. You tried your best to find the best in the situation, tried to get some semblance of an idea of who the man you’d soon call husband, but all you got were very generic answers. He’s speaks several languages, plays many instruments, charming, handsome. But no one told you whether he was kind, generous, or good. Your eyes fell on the greenery whirling past your carriage as you felt your nerves grow.

Silently, you prayed that the prince you’d soon be married to would be kind, that you could learn to love the man and try to have a happy life. Your prayers quickly stopped as suddenly, the carriage had rocked and jumped wildly and then before you knew it, the carriage tipped over and things went black. A pounding in your head was the first thing you clearly knew before your eyes managed to open and focus enough to see the destruction before you. The coachman that was riding with you was trapped beneath the carriage and you could hear the soft whimpering of pain. You stand, though your leg was in great pain, and despite your own weaken state, you tried to help by pushing against the carriage, but to no avail. You looked around and noticed smoke in the sky. Someone lived by, they will help.

Running towards the direction, you press on, despite your own body aching, your head swimming with light headedness, because you had to help. Tired, but you managed to reach a mill, and saw a figure whose back was turned from you. “Excuse me,” your voice low and hoarse. The figure doesn’t hear at first and continues with his work, so you move forward, your body leaning against a pile of wood, which you knock down on accident.

The figure whipped his head around and at first seemed ready to fight but seeing you, blood dripping from your head, your weaken state, made him soften. “Please help,” you manage before passing out.

The next thing you knew, you wake up in a bed, your head bandaged, your leg in a splint and the pain subsided a bit and everything started to slowly come back to you. You try to get up from bed only to be hushed and pushed back gently. “No, don’t get up.”

It’s then do you take a look at your rescuer. He was older than you, can’t be no more than ten years older, but his wavy brown hair which he tied back, to his warm brown eyes and friendly smile made him seem boyish. “The coachman,” you say suddenly, “My carriage had crashed, he needs help,” you say, trying once again to get up.

“Alright,” he says, once again gently, pushing you back down, “I’ll go and see. In which direction did you come from?” You tell him to the best of your knowledge, but your head hurts so much, and you feel as if you want to cry. He offers you a small wooden bowl and brings it to your lips. “Drink. It’ll help with the pain.”

You do as your told, what else did you have to lose? Once he makes sure you drank all of it, he settles you back down and goes to find the carriage. Laying there, you wait and the pain in your head fades, allowing you the chance to wonder what will happen now; will your betrothed start to get worried if you are not there by tomorrow and have a search party sent for you? Will your father when he doesn’t receive word from you? Quite a bit of time goes by before you realize that the man returns, and his face is grave.

“I am sorry miss, but the coachman is dead. He died before I found the carriage.” His brown eyes grow tender with remorse and silently offers sympathy.

You cry, not only because the coachman was a good man you knew growing up, but because you felt completely and utterly alone. How you wished you were home now, wished you never left to be engaged, wished you were with your family now. The man does not say anything to you for a long time, leaves the cottage with a shovel in hand, and you knew what he was going to do. His absence allows you time to grieve, time to accept the situation, and when he returns, he still gives you space, waiting for you to speak first. He tells you he had buried the coachman, but you don’t feel like you could respond without crying, so you remain silent. When you do speak first, it is late in the night before he decides to retire to sleep. 

“What is your name?”

“Tonda.”

“Thank you, Tonda.”

Crying yourself to sleep, you wake and it takes you some time to realize where you are but are quickly comforted by the sight of those same soft brown eyes, sitting by the fire, stirring the pot. “Good morning, did you sleep well?”

“Well enough, I suppose.” He gets up to bring you some porridge, gesturing for you to eat. “Where am I?”

“In my mill, just on the outskirts of Schwarzkollm, a small village, simple, but good. Where were you heading off to, maybe I know a way to get there.” You thought to not tell him the whole truth, withhold your being a princess, but looking into his eyes, you feel as if you can utterly trust him with anything. So, you explain that you were on your way to be married, that your betrothed was expecting you any day and must be worried. He took your being a princess well and instead of acting like everyone else who fell to their knees and dare not look at you, he continued to look at you, like you were an actual human being, not a symbol as your father once described you. “I know the kingdom, it’s a half a day’s ride from here. I’ll take you there as soon as I am sure you are feeling better.”

“Oh, thank you, Tonda! Thank you!” You clasp his hands into yours, a gesture of gratefulness, but somehow the touch made your cheeks grow warm. Perhaps it was because you realized that this was the first time you had been alone with a man that was not your father, perhaps it was because of how close both of your bodies were, or perhaps it was the look in Tonda’s eyes that made your stomach flutter like a million butterflies.

Word quickly spread that Tonda had a visitor in his mill, a young and pretty woman at it too, and people came to know the story, though you asked Tonda to not revel your true identity. Tonda was polite and kind enough to try to hold many of them back, certain it would overwhelm you, especially from the trauma you suffered the day before. But a few older women get by, offering food, clothing, and remedies to help you feel better, and you thank them graciously, knowing they mean well. You become grateful to be alone once again with Tonda, so you could have some peace.

He is gentle when he checks your bandages, cleans the wounds, and reapplies fresh wrappings. “You have only a small cut on your forehead, that’ll heal soon, but your ankle looks very bad,” he observes and you have to agree with him, what with it’s dark purple bruises and deep cuts that even grazing it caused great pains. “Stay off it for as long as you can; the longer you stay still, the quicker it’ll heal.”

You stay in bed, applying ointments and herbs that Tonda and the older women bring to you, while Tonda does his chores as well as trying to care for you. Feeling guilty, you offer to do little things to help, such as peel potatoes and mend clothes, little things you didn’t think mattered, but did mean so much to Tonda.

You wondered how you’d pay him back, especially since he was good enough to grab your trunk from the wreck and brought it to the mill. It wasn’t the clothes or the trinkets you cared about, but your books. Your father took great care to have you educated, to read and write, know your math and history. One day, Tonda noticed you reading and asked about it. “Oh it’s one of my favorites, but then again, I am partial to love stories. I’m almost done with it, you can read it after if you like.”

His cheeks grew red. “Oh, that’s kind of you, but-”

“But what?”

He looks down then admits, “I can’t read.”

You look at him surprised, such a capable and bright man stood before you, and he didn’t know how to read! “Well, how about this? As a way to repay you, I can teach you to read and write in the evenings, and whatever else you’d like to learn. What do you say?”

At first, Tonda tried to refuse, saying that there was no need to repay him, but after arguing that it would be good for him when he does business in the village, he at last accepts.  And so went your life for the next month. During the day, Tonda worked on the mill while you tried your best to help in bed, then in the evenings, you taught Tonda how to read and write. He was a quick learner and so proud of himself that you couldn’t help but to be proud as well.

In the time between, you both came to understand each other. Tonda proved to be a kind, gentle soul who loved animals and children, with a quick wit and a wonderful sense of humor. His father taught him to fight, which you were grateful to hear that he had little cause to use his skills, his mother taught him how to cook, which is why you were always asking for second helpings of his food. He told you how he was orphaned when he was quite young, and had lived on his own since, how while there were times he didn’t mind the peaceful quiet, he struggled with the solitude.

You told him how you understood what he meant, often feeling all alone in the big castle, how your being a middle child and not a boy, your worth was measured in how good of a wife you could one day be. You tell him of your apprehensions of your upcoming marriage, how small and insignificant you feel in this world, especially since there had not been any word on anyone trying to find you.

“No one is insignificant. We all have a reason, a purpose. Even a blade of grass has a purpose, for that blade of grass may very well be shelter to an ant, the nourishment an animal needs to live. You have your purpose, you may not yet know it now, but you will. You’ll mean something great to someone, and they’ll find they can’t live without you.”

Your heart thumps harshly against your chest, the look in his eyes, the tenderness in his voice all touched you so deeply, that you almost forgot to breathe. He turns away from you, looking as if he spoke something he shouldn’t.

The next day, you try to walk. The bruises have gone and the cuts have turned to faint scars, but it is still a little sore. Tonda stands by your side as you attempt to walk and with each attempt, you get further and further. While the sight of you getting better should have been a moment to celebrate, neither of you say the words, but both remember his promise. “I don’t think I am quite healed yet,” you speak before he does, “I think we ought to wait until I am able to walk completely, perhaps another week, just to be sure.” You are grateful when Tonda happily agrees and lets you remain with him.

A week turns to two, and those two turns to four. You learn from him how to work the mill, helping him more and more, going into the village with him, meeting the people properly. You don’t hear the whispers of the villagers, certain that you and Tonda were courting, but it’s perhaps better that you didn’t it would only make things complicated. And still, two months and no word, no sign of either kingdoms looking for you.

Eventually, you dare ask Tonda to take you to your betrothed kingdom. You just have to know what happened, why no one came for you, to let them know you were safe. A flash of pain shoot across his eyes, but being the honorable man he was, he hitched his horse and the two of you rode on. When you did reach the kingdom, you were surprised to see celebrating going on, ribbons everywhere, flower petals falling from the sky, cheers from the crowd.

“Excuse me, what is happening?” Tonda asked a passing villager.

“The prince is married!” said the villager, running off towards the castle.

You and Tonda stare at each other bewildered. Trumpets sound and you see, standing on the balcony is the prince you were to marry, and beside him, your sister, as his bride. The sight is like a stab in the heart, not because you had wanted to marry the prince, but because you knew the truth now. No one came for you because in their eyes, you were dispensable, if not you, another will easily take your place. 

The realization made you break down, sobbing as Tonda took you away, carried you even as you were so overcome with despair. He helps you back on the horse and together, he brings you back to his mill. The entire ride, you are sobbing into his back, holding on to him for dear life, your heart utterly broken. It’s dusk when you return to the mill, and ever the gentleman, Tonda helps you down from the horse and escorts you back in, making a fire when he sees you shiver. “I am so sorry, my princess,” he says at last softly, “They do not deserve you if they think you can be easily replaced like that.”

“I’m just,” you say low and brokenly, as you sit in the closest chair, “Not the blade of grass they needed it seems.”

He quickly kneels before you, taking your hands into his and makes you look into his eyes. “You are more than a blade of grass; you are the sky, the earth and the oceans. You are everything that makes life worth living for, and that prince and your father are fools to not realize that. You mean something great to me, always.”

You stare deep into his soft brown eyes and it hits you. Tonda, the man who rescued you, who cared for you, listened and taught you, you were in love with him. Yes, it was clear now, and the revelation helped to ease the heartbreak. Taking his face into your hands, you reached forward and kissed him. It was gentle at first, beautiful, something you had always read about in the romance stories and it made you both gasp when you parted.

You don’t know who prompted it, you feel as if it was you, but you can't be certain, but what you do know is that Tonda carried you to the bed, clothes stripped from the both of you and for the first time for either for you, you laid down together and carefully learned together these first throes of passion and love. His coarse hands were gentle on your skin, his lips everywhere as if he couldn’t dare part with you, his movements gentle and slow, not wanting to rush this breathtaking moment. He sighs and moans at the feeling of your soft hands running down the planes of his back, combing through his long wavy hair, the soft whimpering of your voice in his ear. 

“I love you,” his speaks desperately, lovingly, hopelessly, “I love you, love you, always.”

Hours later and you stare into the small fire as it slowly diminishes and Tonda curled behind you, sleeping. Today was a whirlwind of emotions, and yet, you couldn’t find it within yourself to feel guilty for how it ended. It stung to think your own father didn’t care, that to the world you were dead. In his sleep, Tonda pulled you closer and nuzzled himself closer to you, making you smile.

Well, you think, perhaps it’s better that the world thinks me dead, to earn this second chance to truly live. And live you did with your sweet miller, happily ever after, in fact.

Tagging those who I think would be interested: @monsieurbruhl​, @creme-bruhlee​, @bruehl​, @neonheart1244​, @justfangirlthingies​, @git-it-got-it-good​, @daniel-bruhhl​, @cazzyimagines​ 

#daniel bruhl #daniel brühl #fanfiction #tonda #krabat

[mysoftboybensolo]

A Baby Makes Three

A/N: Requested by @thetempleofthemasaigoddess​ which is the very first request I have ever had, so thank you for that! This is part of my Tonda-verse, a sort of part 3. There are references to the first two stories, so you better read those before reading this one.

Links: Wash Away Loneliness (x), The Princess and the Miller (x), and AO3 link (x)

Pairing: Tonda x Fem!Reader. No use of Y/N.

Warnings: Alternate Universe, non-graphic pregnancy and delievery.

It had been two years since you had met Tonda and so much had happened then. Once you had accepted that the life you once belonged to was gone, that you were dead to the world, you began to rebuild your life and found yourself reborn. The wedding ceremony was small, you, Tonda and the priest, but it was all you needed, finer than any royal wedding you could have ever had or been to. The golden sun slowing descending, the birds chirping, the flowers softly blowing in the wind, and Tonda, looking so handsome, so happy.

It did not take long for the villagers to hear about the wedding and they all wanted to offer their congratulations, even when you two were trying to have a small honeymoon. Short though it was, those four days of early summer where neither of you did work or leave the mill were the happiest you had.

With the encouragement of Tonda, you worked to make your own shop as a soap maker.  At first, you worked inside the mill, often your tools, ingredients and soaps took up a good deal of space, but Tonda was good enough to not complain nor get upset with the clutter. He was your biggest supporter, the one who brought your spirits up when you felt like giving up. To show how much faith he had in you and your work, he had built your own work shed and was the first one to say “I told you so” when after returning from the village and having been completely sold out. It was a celebratory night for you both.

The next few years may have been full of hard work, aching backs, cracked hands, being tired by the end of the night. But ultimately, you knew that the hard work was worth it to at last have the feeling that you have worth, to prove that you could do more than be a bargaining chip for political reasons, and to be your own person. Above all, it was worth it to be with Tonda.

You sometimes think about what would have happened if you did marry the prince, would the marriage have made it as far as yours and Tonda’s? No, you think, because your more outspoken side would have made itself known and unlike Tonda, who reveled in your thoughts and took your words to heart, your betrothed or his advisors would have ignored you and written you off as a silly woman. You’d rebel, get angry, your soul slowly die and be nothing more than an empty shell of a queen who gave birth to children, at least an heir before your king left you to be with whatever mistress he favored that day. 

You hoped that wasn’t a life for your sister, but if it had been you, it would have been the most agonizing death you could have ever imagined. You counted your blessings each day to think of how lucky you were to have found Tonda.

The days may have been filled with work, but the evenings, oh, but were the evenings sweet. More than content with each other’s company, you ate together, danced, read, and even bathed together. That was one of your favorite activities, where the two of you melted into the warm water and into each other’s embrace, washing away the day’s work. And then of course, it always somehow led to the bed you shared, the bed Tonda made to be bigger for you both, and made passionate love. It was like living in your own little world and nothing seemed to disrupt it.

It didn’t occur to you that something could indeed change your way of life, until one day. While selling soaps, Adolfus had asked how you and Tonda were and then he asked the armor piercing question. “Have you and Tonda ever thought about children?”

You didn’t know how to answer that. Growing up, you were taught that it was a princess’ duty to bear heirs for the kingdom, but no one had ever asked you if you had ever really wanted children. You liked them, most certainly, and you had dreams of being a loving mother to your children, giving them a better childhood than what you had, you’d give them love. That desire grew when you watched Tonda play with the children in the village, a boy and girl grabbing on to each end of Tonda’s staff and him lifting and swaying them in the air. 

You would happily have Tonda’s children, but did he want them? You were going to ask him, but you felt so tired that it slipped your mind. It slipped your mind in the morning as well, since you were still so tired.

“My princess?” Tonda caressed your hair, using his term of affection for you, with a look of worry on his face. “Are you alright?”

“I’m just a little tired. I must have pushed myself too much this week’s orders.”

He offered a smile then said, “Take the day off. You deserve it. Rest, if you need me, I’ll be outside.” He kissed your forehead before heading out. You didn’t have even the energy to argue, but just fell back to sleep and didn’t wake until late afternoon. Tonda made your favorite meal as a reward for the work you have done, and you found that your appetite was fierce, having three helpings of it. 

“I do not blame you,” he said, after you apologized for the intensity of your hunger, “You barely ate much this week, and you ate nothing today. It’s good to see you looking healthy.”

These should have been your first clues, but it would not hit you until a week later when you started to realize some of the peculiarities in your habits. You were going to relieve yourself more often than usual, the smell of certain foods made your stomach turn when before you loved said food, and to top it off, you were somehow always ill in the morning. You didn’t tell Tonda just yet, you didn’t want to worry him, not until you went to the village doctor.

Later that evening, when you two settled in for the night, you decided that you should tell him. You were nervous, excited, but mostly uncertain. “Tonda, can we talk?”

“Aren’t we talking already?” he joked, but then saw how serious you looked and made sure he was all eyes and ears on you.

“I have something to tell you. Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you this, but I suppose, I don’t have much of a choice now.” You sigh, and decided, better to just say it. “I am with child.”

You expected hesitation, worry, uncertainty, but you didn’t expect him to burst into a smile and pull you into his arms, kissing you everywhere. “Oh, my princess, I can’t believe it! When did you find out?”

“Just today. I saw the midwife and she confirmed my suspicions. You are happy, Tonda? Truly?”

“Happy? There isn’t any other word to describe how I feel now. Did, did you expect me not to be?”

“I don’t know. We had never talked about children, it wasn’t until Adolfus had asked that I had thought about it. And don’t worry, my dear, I want nothing more than to have your child. Especially now, knowing that you want this as much as I do.” 

He picked you up and carried you to the bed, showing you how much he loved you and how happy he was, and after you two laid in bed, sleepy, satisfied and loved, he ran his hand over your still non-showing stomach, pressing a kiss to it then rested his head, as if trying to hear the tiniest sound of your child.

The months passed and your belly grew more and more, and you found it more and more difficult to work as much as you did. Tonda created a chair for you to sit in as you worked, but in the last month of your pregnancy, you had to quit because your belly wouldn’t allow you to work properly. It was probably for the best, you were growing more and more tired, eager for the child to come soon. 

Tonda was the most wonderful husband during this time. He worked doubly hard to make sure to tend to your needs as well as in his work, knowing that a baby will require a lot of attention. Winter was coming, so he needed to be finished soon. He hand made the crib for the baby and you had to marvel at the incredible work he did, and you could feel that every etching and curve and knob was filled with so much love for a life he had yet to meet, and it made you weep with happiness.

The times when neither of you worked, you both discussed how your lives would change with this new chapter, the names you would pick depending on whether you’d have a girl or a boy. And as your stomach grew, Tonda began to sing to it, talking as if the baby could hear. “You never know,” he says, “If they can hear me, I’d want them to know how much I love them.” How lucky you were to have him be your husband and father of your child.

It was early in December when it began. The snow was falling heavily outside, and while safe and warm in your home, you felt a gnawing feeling in your stomach, coming and going. You knew it was time when the sudden burst of water that escaped between your legs. Tonda was quick to hurry with his horse, despite your not wanting to be alone.

“I promise, I will not be more than fifteen minutes.” It felt more like a hour, but he was true to his word and was back in ten minutes with the midwife. Most husbands would stay away and allow the women to do whatever work they needed to do, but Tonda stayed close, holding your hand when you asked, placing a cool cloth over your forehead, anything the midwife asked, anything to ensure a safe deliver for you and your child.

It took you a half an hour until you heard the cries of your baby, and it was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. All the pain and struggle you went through didn’t matter anymore. “He is perfectly healthy, my dear,” she says, taking your child to help clean him up. “A beautiful, healthy boy.”

She hands you your son, and you never saw anything more beautiful than your pink, wrinkly faced baby, because he was yours and Tonda’s, the perfect combination of you both. Tonda stared at him with wonder, tears in his eyes made you sob for joy. “Oh, Tonda, look what we have made.”

“You did it all, my princess,” he cooed with admiration, “You are the most incredible woman I’ve known,” he kisses your forehead.

“What will you call him?” asked the midwife.

“Casper,” you say, “It means ‘treasure bearer’.”

“Quite a fitting name,” she agreed, before leaving you two alone. “It’s alright, the snow has settled and you two will want to be alone now. Good night.”

Once she had left, Tonda climbed into the bed beide you and stared in wonder at your child. “He is so beautiful, I can’t believe he’s a part of me.”

“But he is yours, he’s ours. Here,” you carefully hand off your son to Tonda, who treats him as if he is made of glass, but once settled in his arms, Tonda let out a sigh and tears fall down his face.

“Forgive me for saying this,” he begins, making you look at him curiously, “But I am glad your carriage broke that day.”

You sigh and laugh, kissing Tonda’s cheek and nuzzle up closer to him. “Me too.”

Tagging: @thetempleofthemasaigoddess @scuttle-buttle​  @monsieurbruhl​, @creme-bruhlee​, @bruehl​, @neonheart1244​, @justfangirlthingies​, @git-it-got-it-good​, @daniel-bruhhl​, @cazzyimagines​​, @majorboredom​ and @angelayasmin​

#daniel bruhl #daniel brühl #krabat #tonda #fanfiction

[mysoftboybensolo]

Wash Away Loneliness

A/N: Ok, no one asked for it, but between after writing my fic and seeing people talking about Tonda, specifically his hygiene, I wanted to write a cute fic about it. This is within the world of my previous fic “The Princess and the Miller”, which the link for that is below, this is a moment within that story. Also, I did my research on Middle Ages/Medieval hygiene, so I like to think that I am pretty accurate with my descriptions. Also also, Tonda has better hygiene in this universe, so no UTI’s to be had from him.

Pairing: Tonda x Fem! Reader. No Y/N.

Link: https://mysoftboybensolo.tumblr.com/post/655989802674651136/the-princess-and-the-miller#notes

Warnings: Alternate Universe, medieval hygiene is different from ours, accidental voyeurism. some angst but if you know my previous story, it’s not so bad.

It had been a few days since you had been rescued by Tonda, and you realized that you desperately needed a bath. Not only was your dress torn and covered in mud and blood, but so was your body; your legs were stained of a terrible muddy red color, and your hair was sticky and dry from the blood and you just couldn’t stand it. Not only were books and dresses in your trunk, but your toiletries, and sigh when you see them. Now, just to get to a tub. But where is it?

Tonda comes in from doing his chores to drop off logs for the fire when you stopped him. “Tonda, I was hoping to take a bath. Do you have a tub?”

Tonda opened his mouth as if to answer but then he stopped short. “Oh, I almost forgot. I do have one, but, just before you came, I lent it to Adolfus, he lives in the village. But there is a lake nearby, you can bathe there.”

You look at him with uncertainty. “You mean, out in the open?”

Realizing your discomfort, he says, “No one hardly ever comes here, and I can stand guard, if you like. I’ll sit behind a tree and you’ll have the privacy you desire.” Seeing that you had no choice, and desperate to feel clean again, you agree. Once you are ready, Tonda carefully picks you up and carries you to the lake.

He sets you down at the shore and true to his word, he picks up his staff and moves to sit behind a tree, allowing you the privacy he promised. Opening the bundle you had made from the towel he gave you, you pulled out your brush, comb, soaps, and your new dress then set it neatly on the rock. Unlacing your old torn gown, you toss it aside and carefully slip into the water. The feeling of the lukewarm water felt wonderful and you couldn’t help but to sigh contently, it even helped to ease the pain in your ankle.

Tonda looked ahead of him, his staff laid across his lap and stayed very still. He didn’t expect to feel quite shy and uncertain, and he didn’t dare do anything lest should he invade your privacy. The thought of you being so close and without clothes made him feel small, and when he saw that your torn dress was tossed away landing close to him, his cheeks grew red. Turning away to land his focus on something else, he noticed your little arrangement and didn’t recognize two funny looking items. “What is that? Those funny blocks?”

“Soap. You haven’t seen soap before?” you ask from the water.

“No,” he shook his head, “Well, not like that. Madam Jutte has soap for her clothes, but it’s a powder kind. What is this for?” He picks up one, observing it.

“One is for the body and the other for the hair.”

“There’s a difference?” He questions, taking a sniff. “Hmmm, smells nice.” It was true, it smelled like bergamot and chamomile, and he takes another long inhale.

“Thank you,” you say, taking the other soap to wash your hair. “My father was introduced to them when the crusaders returned from the east, and since I had time on my hands, I learned how to make soap. These ones are of my own making.” You watch as the soap lather slide down your body and the white mixed with the dry blood, swim down the stream. Feeling that your hair was properly cleaned and rinsed, you set that soap aside and held your hand out with your back to him. “Tonda, may I have my soap back?”

He apologizes and hands it to you, but what you didn’t know was that when he did, he had accidentally caught a peek of your bare back and the slight curve of your breast. He quickly pulled back to the tree, his heart beating furiously, both from the allure of you and the shame of having broken his promise. He didn’t mean to, honest, he’d never betray your trust, but here he was thinking of the image, of your smooth back, the hint of a supple breast and this filled him with utter shame. It was in this moment that made him realize just how little female company he had kept since his mother’s death. Oh Lord, what would his mother think of him now?

You went on to bathe yourself without knowing of Tonda’s dilemma, and once you felt certain that you were cleaned, you managed to get to the rock and wrap yourself in a towel, brushing out whatever knots you had, then dried off as much as you could before you put on the dress one of the women had given you. Lacing it up, you call for Tonda, who you noticed didn’t look you in the eyes, but you assumed it was because he was still respecting your privacy still, and carried you back to the mill and in your bed, then returned back to his work silently.

The next day, Adolfus had returned the wooden tub and in time too. Later in the day, Tonda had returned from his work in the mill and was ready to sit for supper when you couldn’t help but smell his hard day’s work on him. You wanted to say something, but you felt guilty when he looked so tired and surely deserved his meal, but the stench was so awful. And you knew that Tonda did know how to keep clean; you saw him clean his teeth every night with his linen and paste and he washed his hands before eating, but this was difficult for you to bear.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, noticing your not eating, “Is the food not good?”

“Um, no, I mean, the food is wonderful, thank you. But,” you hesitate for a moment then at last say, “I’m sorry Tonda, but you smell. I know that you want nothing more than to enjoy your meal, but how can you stand to sit and eat when you have dirt, sweat and powder all over you? I can’t imagine it feels good to sit and eat while all of that is on you.” You blurt out, feeling ashamed once it was out.

The look on his face a mix of emotions; confusion, followed by shame, then acceptance. “I-I hadn’t realized that I had. Please forgive me, my princess.”

“Oh, no, forgive me, Tonda. It wasn’t every kind of me to say it, and I should have waited at least until you were finished.”

“No, you are right. It is very impolite to eat with someone in this manner. I’ll, um, I’ll eat over here, then afterwards, I’ll get clean.”

Your heart broke to see him slink off to the far corner of the room to eat in silence, and you ate in silence too, uncertain of what you could say to make it better. Your eyes fall on the tub and, remembering how intrigued he was by your soap, will offer them for him to try, perhaps that will make him feel better.

You present the idea to Tonda, even offering to help him, hoping that he’d see how sorry you were. His smile was wide and bright, becoming excited at the idea of trying your soaps. As soon as he finished, he went to the well to fill the tub as you finished your meal and took out your soaps. Then, it hit you. He’d have to get undressed.

“I’ll turn away until you get into the tub,” you say when he returns and finished filling the tub. Rolling over, you wait until you hear the soft splash of water of him getting settled, then carefully, you limp over to take a chair and settle it to be at the back of Tonda’s head. “Now, get good and wet, then I’ll get to work on your hair.”

He did as you asked and you handed him the body soap and explained to him how to scrub it all over him, and while he does that, you worked on his hair, which was heavy with dust and sweat. You advise him on how to use the soap and how to truly get a good clean. “Once you see it lather, then you know it’s working. And take your time with it, cleanliness is next to godliness, as my nanny always told me.”

He listens to your advise and follows it to the note, silent as he washes himself. “I’m sorry that I didn’t wash before eating,” he says at last, “I suppose, I haven’t been used to having anyone around to care about how I smell or look, so when you said it, it took me by surprise.”

“How long have you been here alone?”

He thought for a moment, then replied, “Well, Mama died when I was twelve and then Papa died when I was fifteen. When he died, that was when I began to live on my own.”

You stop your lathering and asked, “Tonda, how old are you?”

“I turned thirty-one last month.”

Doing the math in your head, you gasp at your results. “Tonda, do you realize that you have been living on your on, all by yourself, for sixteen years?” No wonder he didn’t know what to do around other people, because he hadn’t been around other people ever since he was a child!

Tonda thought of it for a moment and he paused his own washing when he really understood what you said. “Oh, that is a long time.”

“It is a very long time,” you remark going back to washing his hair, “To be without people. Well, I suppose some people can do without human contact, but, I can’t. I’m afraid I need people too much, at least a someone.”

“It’s not all bad,” Tonda says, “It’s so beautiful up here, and being away from the village, you get to truly see the world come alive. The soft dewy mornings where the sun rises and animals wake, the stillness of evening where crickets chirp and the stars are so bright. But, it does get lonely, more often than not, I find. I once thought of leaving here to live in the village, but I couldn’t do it. This place is all that is left of my parents, it’s my whole life, and I don’t want to forget it.”

You listen to him and his words touch you deeply. “I know what you mean, about being alone. It’s funny, everyone thinks that living in a castle must be nice, so much space, so much to do, but, that space makes you feel small. It may have had people in it, family, servants, it still felt as if I walked those halls by myself. Being alone with no one around is kinder than being alone with people, because the latter makes you think, if I disappear now, will anyone notice? Will anyone care?”

Tonda turns in the tub to look at you, forcing you to stop your work. “Maybe we were meant to meet,” he suggests, “Even if it will be for a moment in our lives, for two souls to wash away loneliness. A comforting memory for us to carry for the rest of our lives.”

You smile, “I like that thought. Thank you.” You set the soap down then teasingly look down at him. “Take a deep breath,” you warn before you set your hands on the top of his head and dunk him under the water. When he comes back up, you see him smile as you smooth out the hair to prevent it getting into his eyes. Certain that he is rinsed off, you reach over for the towel and with your eyes averted, hold the large towel up for him to properly get out and wrap himself completely. 

He sighs contently, “Thank you, I really needed that. What other advise do you have to offer?”

“Well, I’d say that if you are ever this dirty again to give yourself a bath before settling down for the evening. And do not put your dirty clothes back on again, otherwise, it’ll make the work you took to get clean pointless. I tend to take a bath once a week to keep myself clean.”

He looks at you amazed. “Once a week?” He once heard the village doctor say that the necessary bathing should only occur once a year, but then again, the doctor did have the grubbiest hands Tonda had ever seen, so he had to question the doctor’s assertion.

“Yes. Trust me, not only will it make you feel better, but people will notice in a good way. It’d be a shame if you had fleas or lice in your hair,” you say, running your hands through his wet waves, “It’s such nice hair, you need to care for it properly.”

Once again, Tonda feels his cheeks grow warm, the feeling of your hands going through his hair, fingers grazing against his cheeks, it was a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time. He pulls away from your caresses, making the excuse to change into clothes, but he really had to get away from you, for if you continued to touch him, he thought he’d might burst. 

You are pleased to see him taking your advice, choosing his once a week day to bathe be Sundays, as it was the day of rest and he won’t do any heavy duty work. On one Sunday after bathing, he did go into the village to drop off a delivery when Adolfus leaned in and sniffed him. “Is that you?” Tonda nodded, watching as Adolfus sniffed again. “You smell good. What did you use?”

“Soap.”

“Madam Jutte’s clothes soap?”

“No, body soap.” He explains how you had soap and lent them to him, carefully withholding just how it was you were introduced to the soap in the first place.

“Oh, so she’s a soap maker!” Tonda says yes, which wasn’t exactly a lie, since you did tell him you made these soaps. “I wonder if she’ll make some for us when she gets better. No doubt it’d be a great business venture for her here.”

“I don't think she’ll stay long. Once she is better, she’ll want to leave.” For some reason, this thought bothers him, so much so that even speaking the words leaves him with a twist in his stomach. He leaves Adolfus alone to return back to his mill, but he really wants a moment alone. The thought if you leaving, that once he takes you to your betrothed, he’ll be back to being alone, and it kills him to think to go back to his silent solitude alone, to be without you.

In this moment, Tonda realizes he is in love with you. You, you who leant him your soaps, who touched him tenderly and was teaching him to read and write, filled the empty air with poetry and laughter. The feelings come for him all at once; he loves you, grateful you entered his life, but then anger towards you, how dare you come into his life, fill his life with beauty and love only to leave him and most likely forget him. He cries, throws rocks across the empty fields, only to fall to his knees, face buried in his hands and to brokenly say, “I love you” to no one to hear.

Once the tears subside, he wipes his eyes and sighs. No, he should not curse you or be angry at you. His feelings are his own, you owed him nothing, And he should have known better, you are a princess, he a mere miller, even if you dared to return his love, it would never be, for you are meant for another. When the moment comes and someone looks for you, ready to take you away from him, he will let you go full of love and gratefulness. He must teach himself to be ready for that day, to hitch his horse and take you to the kingdom when you are better and watch you walk from him, leaving him to return back to his mill, with nothing but the memories of you. 

You notice nothing different in Tonda when he returns, for he smiles at you, looks at you with tenderness and carries on as he had before. You don’t know that he is aching inside, is trying to take in every moment with you and making it count, for it could be his last.

Thankfully, the day will never come when he has to lose you. Instead he gets to forever hold you, keep you, to love and be loved by you, the princess of his heart.

Tagging those who I think would be interested: @monsieurbruhl, @creme-bruhlee, @bruehl, @neonheart1244, @justfangirlthingies, @git-it-got-it-good, @daniel-bruhhl, @cazzyimagines​, @scuttle-buttle​. 

#daniel bruhl #daniel brühl #fanfiction #krabat #tonda