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smolvenger · 10 months

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Miss Narracott and The Captain- Chapter Eight Finale (!)

Fandom: War Horse

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of sex, death, and violence but nothing brutal other than one brief mention that gets a bit vivid. But LOTS of fluff and emotions and crying and hugging. A Happy Ending.

Chapter Word Count: 3K

Series Summary: It is 1914. You are Y/N Narracott, the older sister of Albert Narracott. You must do what you can so your family can keep their farm. And so your brother can keep his beloved horse. Under financial struggles, you never expect romance to come into your life...until you have a chance encounter with James Nicholls- a Captain with a knack for drawing. But the threat of war lingers in the air...

Part One//Part Two//Part Three//Part Four//Part Five//Part Six//Part Seven

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

A/N: Thank you guys so much for sticking with this story for a character who we saw only briefly but deserved much more <3!! I hope you enjoy the finale!!

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract

@eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @infinitystoner @12-pm-510 @meowmeow-motherfucker

November, 1918

It was another long day at the hospital. Not another overnight, but still long. You had an hour to go for your time, as you checked the clock. You headed over to make sure there was a glass of water on each bedside table.

It was simple training. It didn’t take long to get a First Aid and Home Nursing certification. They gave you a uniform of a white cap, a dark dress, and a white apron with a red cross stitched over the chest. Your first days as a VAD were full of fixing cups of tea and changing sheets.

But by now you had sewn flesh together. You had seen men die with their eyes open. You had seen infections that made you feel queasy to look at. Once, you were asked to hold down a man’s leg as it was amputated. You never forgot his screams. They rung in your nightmares for a week. Compared to that, sewing together flesh was easy. Many of the other volunteers were women from families who were not accustomed to hard work. They were in for a large shock and were forced to adaptation. Only a few came from labor or farms, as you did,and could tolerate work for long hours. But it was as if the sight of death had bonded and toughened you all.

With the young men in town away to fight, it was mostly women you ran into. They were glad and grateful friends. Your weekly knitting club for the troops led to much baked goods, playful gossip, released sobs, and vulnerable confessions. You valued the women you met and befriended in your circles, your fellow VAD’s, and neighbors and new in-laws.

But none of them could replace James, of course. James with his occasional visits when he was discharged- visits that ended too soon every time. James with his constant, beautiful letters filled with sketches. Just the last one read.

“My dear Mrs. Nicholls,

Joey is doing well. He’s as fit and stubborn and spirited as can be, no wonder he’s lasted so long. He’s racing alongside Topthorn-not that I’m too surprised about the speed of his gallop. Jaimie sends you his love and good wishes as well.

I’ve been thinking of you in Somerset. Of the reward to come-to come back to my wife, to come back to you. I hope you recall the Teddy Bear I sent you for your birthday. Yes, it is a children’s toy, but when you miss me, you may embrace him as you would me and kiss him on his head as you would me. It is a bit of love I send back to you to console you. At least until I can return to your arms and kisses for real.

Do not think of me as less of a man, but I confess, that is what moves me- a future of ours. A house of our own. Children of our own playing around the living room and getting into trouble. We can play music on the phonograph all we want without the cacophony of guns around us. We will laugh and talk over any silly old thing over every meal. Then we’ll go to bed, and I’ll take you as I did in the grass and we’ll make love without any fear or shame, only how much we adore each other…”

But now it was not only James and Joey you had to worry about. That first year, Albert ran off to join the army. When you found out, you ran to your parents and sobbed as you hugged them. Only sometimes you got a letter from him and you would press your parents for updates.

It only pushed you to work harder as a VAD and take it seriously. Knowing these soldiers groaning in their beds were someone else’s James or Albie. That someone was going to lose their husband or brother or son. And if you hurried and focused on the tasks at hand, you could help save someone’s life. That was what was on your mind when one of the doctors walked into the room.

“Everyone, there is an announcement- all staff must hurry into the lobby,” he declared.

Finishing pouring the last glass of water, you set the pitcher on a table and hurried there. All of you gathered in your uniforms, heads turning with whispers of what it could be. The head of the hospital stood there in the center of the room with a newspaper, he took off his spectacles to face you all. There were tears in his brown eyes.

“Everyone…England is going to sign an armistice this month with Germany and the other countries on the eleventh of this month. It will be the last day of fighting. In short, the war is about to end.”

There was silence. You could hear a few gasps. Every bit of you was vibrating and the breath in your lungs stopped. Finally, there was a cheer and an applause that broke out. Your colleagues wrapped their arms around you and hugged you and you hugged back.

You couldn’t believe it. Had it all been so fast? Yet so slow? It’s over…it’s over…the war is finally over!

But, from that last letter…James sent it just last month. Things could have changed. He still could have been killed! Or Albert too! All you had to do was wait for a final letter or telegram. One last one and it would confirm if James and Albert survived. Or not. In your heart, the war was not yet done. Just a few more days of fear…then it would be settled.

November 11th arrived, and the bells of the church rang louder than any Christmas you had seen. People danced in the streets, threw confetti, and cheered. There was no telegram. But no letter either. You shook every time the mail was delivered that month. But nothing crucial so far.

You were enjoying one of your free days eating luncheon with Mr. and Mrs. Nicholls. There was a knock on the door that made you jump.

“This isn’t when the postman arrives- it’s two hours early. Are we expecting visitors?” asked Mr. Nicholls.

“No, Mrs. Hayter isn’t arriving until tomorrow…” Mrs. Nicholls answered.

“I’ll get it,” you offered, getting out of your chair.

As you took a few steps closer to the door, you heard a sound.

A whinny. A horse’s whinny. A very familiar horse’s whinny. A whinny you had not heard since…since…

Your steps to the door became a run. You threw it open and let out a scream at the sight.

It was James in his now dirtied green uniform. He was standing outside leading Joey by the leash and giving you a salute. Without another word, you ran towards him, almost tackling him into a hug.

“James…James…is it you? Please tell me if this is real! Please-please tell me it’s you!” you begged, your voice breaking into tears.

You felt a hand reach your back. You could smell him, feel him, and hear that voice you loved so much.

“Yes, my darling…it’s me…and I’m not leaving anywhere, I’m staying with you for a very long time…” he answered.

There were footsteps and a shout from his parents behind you. You grabbed his face and pulled him in for a kiss. He smelt of wind and the smoke of travel as well as the horse and could feel his hands wrap around your back. You hugged him again and began to sob into his uniform, not caring anymore if it stained. He wrapped his arms around you and hugged you back so tight. Then he let go and greeted his parents, taking off his cap. Mrs. Nicholls kissed her son’s face a dozen times. Mr. Nicholls was weeping so badly his back shook as he hugged his son, James let him cry and rocked him as he stood. Assuring him, “it’s alright, father-I’m here. I’m back…”

You then turned to Joey and hugged his muzzle. The younger colt in the Narracott farm would have run away the second his leash was freed. But Joey, now a beautiful stallion in his own right, stood still. He accepted you just as he did the last day you saw him.

“I missed you, old boy. I missed you so much! I’m glad you made it- I’m so glad! Albie’s missed you most of all-he’ll be beside himself!” you whispered to the horse.

You kissed his long snout with its white diamond. He leaned back into you as if to hug you back.

To think, James was back home. Every single neighbor visited to see him all afternoon. Already at dinner, he was here to eat and compliment the cook. He finished his plate, cupping his wine in his large hand with one palm.

“Good God, I’ve missed all of you so much…the things I’ve seen…things I’ve heard…I don’t know if I can be in another war after this…” he said.

“This one is over…it’s all bad memories, James…you can rest now…” Mrs. Nicholls said.

“And how is the prettiest volunteer in England? I hope she can rest as well?” James asked, turning to you.

“I was thinking…I do like being a part of the VAD…if they still need help, I’ll volunteer…”

“Oh, of course you can, Mrs. Nicholls,” he replied with a smile.

“You can always tell us what you saw…what was it like-fighting?” your mother-in-law questioned.

James became still and his face was white.

“I saw everything ….my first battle, I saw a man blasted to pieces-his guts flying from the shot of a machine gun…”

He opened up as much as he could. The horrors and violence he had seen. The deaths too many to name. A friend one day was a corpse the next hour. All of you were silent as he recounted.

Both of you planned to return Joey to the Devon farm tomorrow. You both laid in bed after dinner. Too tired for anything more than simply holding each other. You put your fingers through his blonde-red hair. Traced each feature of his to memorize it.

“You didn’t fool around with some French girl, I hope!” you huffed.

His voice was earnest.

“I swear on my grandfather’s grave, there were no girls from any country anywhere near me all that time! Jaimie will tell you likewise…Y/N…may I confide something to you?” he asked.

“Yes…”

“I remembered the promise I made you when I left. When it started…”

“Yes, I recall, my dear…”

He turned over to you. Adjusting himself on the pillow so he lay right in front of you. You retreated your hands.

“I kept it. I talked to my superiors. Told them we needed to consider the German’s weaponry and plan accordingly. At first, they said no. I asked them again. They said no again. Then another major came in. He agreed. Then the more they talked to, the more it was agreed. Like common sense. They got permission. They sent spies. We fought with guns when we knew there’d be guns…no surprise attacks. Nothing without strict preparation and knowledge…”

“Did you ever charge your calvary?” you asked. You shifted to be in the blankets from the cold November night.

“Only a few times. But, Y/N, I remembered…I remembered you. And I did my best to survive without disobeying orders. Somehow…well, to be honest, I never went against major orders and even then, I don’t think I was ever caught to be killed as a traitor! But I survived. I thought of you…of how sad you were and how you told me you didn’t want to spend your life a widow. I wanted to keep my word…”

He swallowed. You saw one tear in the duct of his eye.

“You did, James, you did…”

He took both of your hands. He smiled down, seeing you both still wore your wedding bands. Then he placed a kiss on them.

“I wanted to thank you, Y/N…if it wasn’t for that…for you, your promise-if I never met you, never loved you, never married you…I don’t know if I’d be here…” he confided.

You gave him a kiss on the lips. It was probably your fiftieth of the day. But after four years of deprivation, you were glad to be caught up. You positioned him to rest against your chest, wrapping your arms around him.

“My parent’s will cry when they see you tomorrow…when they see Joey, too. We’ll have to ask them if they heard any word on Albie…I can only pray he’s alive now,” you said.

“He’s a natural soldier. There’s a chance he did…” James mused.

You stared up at the white ceiling. The house creaked with the nighttime settling over it.

“To think, James, we have one part of our lives ending. Now there’s a new one. No guns, no violence. A peacetime-just beginning….”

He got up from how you held him, then pulled the blankets over the both of you.

“As long as that peacetime is with you, then it will be worth it…” he said with a smile.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

April 1920. A year and almost a half later.

A new spring was born to match the new decade. Today, it was the perfect temperature of not too hot and not too cold. The tulips, daisies, and crocuses were in bloom everywhere. The field between Somerset and Devon was stunning. You noticed how it rolled on as James drove the motorcar down to visit your family. The brown rabbits hopped around the fields. The river, Innocent’s grove, was such a bright blue it seemed to sparkle in the sunlight. Soon it turned to the wide, sloping streets of your hometown. You waved hello to your old shop friends- Mary, Ida, and Alice all had found loves, marriages, or occupations of their own and were smiling. Of course, you made a quick stop to admire the painting of your husband in the town hall. On one corner, you could read its inscription.

’Joey’- Cpn. Nicholls, Fall, 1918.

All of you then finished the drive to the Narracott farm for a picnic.

Your family, along with a much alive Albert, welcomed you each. You, your husband, and baby sitting up in your arms. She thankfully didn’t make one cry the whole trip!

Dressed in her little white frock and little tufts of hair that looked just like yours, Little Rose Nicholls was the picture of infant health. Named after her grandmother, your mother.

There was never a happier night than when she arrived. She was born in October of 1919. She arrived and cried her first cry when the clock struck eleven. James ran up to the room the second he was allowed, and her crying calmed down when he held the small baby in a white bundle. He teared up and kissed her forehead, never letting her go until she needed to be fed.

James told you he was glad he survived the war just for that day. He got to live to have her, to see her, to hold her in his arms, to love her.

The newly crowned Uncle Albert took her in his arms and blew a raspberry on her cheek. She turned with wide eyes.

“Can we introduce her to Joey?! I don’t think they’ve met yet!” he offered.

“Yes, of course we can!” you said.

Out all of you walked to the backyard. Harold still waddled about. The War To End All Wars came and went and Harold was still biting everyone’s legs. He did make a few threatening nips of his beak that made Rosie a little scared and she cried. But she stopped when they passed him, and you approached Joey’s field.

“Oof- she’s already getting’ heavy!” Albert commented. “She’s a big girl now!”

“Here, let me have her,” James offered.

Her father scooped her into his arms. Albert whistled like an owl as Joey trotted closer, swishing his long, black tail.

Would Joey make a sudden noise to frighten her? No. The creature seemed to know that she was young and had to approach her with gentleness. How incredible animals had a sense like that, Albert would say! Joey slowed his steps and moved his nuzzle close. Only his breath tickling her cheek.

“Here-this is a horse. His name is Joey, darling. What do you think?” James asked, holding her up and closer to the animal.

Her eyes went wide, and she made a small coo. Joey leaned forward. She reached out a grubby hand and touched his nose, petting him.

“There…there’s my girl, Rosie, you pet him like that,” James nudged.

She kept reaching for him, petting him again and again. Then Joey got out his large, pink tongue and licked her hand. Rose Nicholls smiled and began squealing in delight. Joey let her pet him with her grubby hands. And once she was done, he turned away. James carried her over to show her the farm and the animals.

“Here’s the garden mummy grew up in. She’d see rabbits eating her flowers, like the naughty rabbit eating the vegetable garden in your storybook! If you look, we might see one!”

You couldn’t help but smile. Your daughter was worth every sleepless night and disgusting diaper. James was always there by your side to help you. He knew your child needed her father as much as she needed her mother. In fact, he was already beginning to spoil her! A room in your new house dedicated to her nursery. It had the teddy bear in her cradle as well as any little cloth dolly and book and dress he would splurge on for her.

James decided to retire from being a soldier. The War to End All Wars had done too much for him to endure another. Sometimes he even awoke from a nightmare or jumped at a loud sound. He did find work as a schoolteacher. His gentle authority and calm voice of reason was one his students adored him for. And it meant you could still volunteer as a VAD on weekends. He would grade his papers next to Rosie’s cradle in the evening.

You turned around to see Albert smoothing the corners of the picnic blanket out on the grass. Your father brought over a picnic basket. He looked healthy and cheery-he told you he was going to quit drinking and was on his second month without a sip.

“Here! Foods ready! While it’s hot everyone!” Your mother announced, bringing out the savory pie, fresh from the oven.

All of you sat on the blanket. James handed you little Rosie as you sat down. You bounced her on your lap. James made you a plate and passed you yours. Savory pie, sliced bread, berries, cheese, and fresh produce and jam cake too.

Then your father lifted a glass of lemonade.

“Here-let’s have a toast, eh?”

You all lifted a glass with your free hand.

“Here-to us. Our family!” he cried.

“To us!” all of you repeated.

James turned to you and clinked your glass again.

“And our little family as well,” he cheered.

“To the three of us,” you agreed.

You received him with a peck on the lips. Then all of you began to help yourselves. Rosie herself was beginning to enjoy the small bits of bread you gave her. She gave a laugh like music and you, and James beamed at her. You took a deep breath. Enjoying the spring weather and the picnic with both families. The one who raised you and the one you had. A family, a happy life full of peace with a living husband who loved you.

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