#Prussian campaign

[legally-killable-sparrow]

My father’s watched the first half of the napoleon movie and he’s…. Ok he’s a big history buff but he’s super into napoleon

When I say he’s into napoleon i mean that he’s got multiple bookshelves and half are about ww1 and ww2 but the other half are about napoleon this man cannot tell you the date the time the year but god can he let you know about napoleons Prussian campaign

Anyways he’s foaming at the fucking mouth

He cannot even decide if he wants to watch the rest of it

I made the mistake of bringing up how they skipped over battle scenes and he went on a well deserved rant about how they completely skipped the aforementioned Prussian campaign and oh god the pyramids what the fuck he did NOT do that t o the pyramids apparently according to my dad a lot of his troops weren’t even close enough to SEE the pyramids

This man is going RABID he’s gonna do a cosplay of napoleon and ride up to apple at this rate

[josefavomjaaga]

Got myself a birthday present for Davout's birthday 😊.

That's the only image of him in the book I could find at first glance.

[illustratus]

The Battle of Montmirail by Horace Vernet

[prokopetz]

The thing that annoys me about the received wisdom of "tabletop RPGs are descended from fantasy wargames, and that's why Dungeons & Dragons is Like That" is that most of the time, when people bring it out they're drawing conclusions by comparing D&D to modern fantasy wargames, and consequently getting cause and effect precisely backwards.

The fact of the matter is that tabletop RPGs aren't descended from fantasy wargames – at least, not in the way that this claim is usually meant. When D&D and its contemporaries came on the scene, fantasy and sci-fi elements were a relatively new (and often controversial) entry to the wargaming hobby; the 900-pound gorilla of the tabletop wargaming scene at the time wasn't fantasy wargaming, but historical wargaming; i.e., re-creations of historical campaigns and such.

Fantasy wargaming and tabletop RPGs are less a linear progression, and more two parallel branches of the same evolutionary tree; they both split off from historical wargaming at roughly the same time, and for much of their shared history there wasn't a bright line between them; many early titles that are classified as fantasy wargames due to their publication history would probably be considered tabletop RPGs by modern standards, and vice versa.

Bringing this back around to my grump about getting cause and effect backwards, one of the consequences of this shared history is that many of the features of contemporary tabletop roleplaying culture that are often cited as reactions against the hobby's wargaming roots are actually directly descended from those roots.

The frequent preoccupation with separating player knowledge from character knowledge, for example? That's straight up an historical wargaming thing. When you're gaming out an historical battle, it makes a big difference whether the players' tactics are informed by contemporary knowledge about the situation, or whether they restrict themselves to acting only upon information which the commander of the side they're playing could plausibly have possessed at the time. Whether there existed an obligation to remain "in character" as your side's commander – and exactly what constituted breaching this obligation – is something people literally got into fights over.

Or the whole "rules versus rulings" nonsense? Arguing about whether it's more appropriate to resolve uncertainty with recourse to game mechanics or by deferring to the judgment of subject matter experts is so deeply embedded in the DNA of historical wargaming that it goes all the way back to the Prussian Kriegsspiel.

Like, I'm not saying that these things aren't worth discussing, but I think we've gotta recognise that when we talk about player knowledge versus character knowledge or rulings versus rules, we're not "evolving beyond" the hobby's wargaming roots; we're rehashing arguments that tabletop wargame designers were having two hundred years ago, in some cases practically verbatim.

[napoleonic-sexyman-tournament]

*aka "who are you most shocked/surprised/upset/aghast that we lost in the first round?"

Propaganda for Each:

Augereau:

“dude’s backstory is a fucking dungeons and dragons adventurer backstory, duellist who had to flee France after killing an officer, adventurered in Prussia and Russia and duelled and fought, also cannot physically stop swearing, what a man”

“Man of many talents even before the Revolution: noted swordsman and duellist, so talented that he accidentally killed a superior officer. Joined armies all over Europe, then taught fencing and dancing after he settled. Eloped with his first wife, whom he loved and respected. Partly responsible for victories at Castiglione and Arcole during the Italian campaign. Tied himself to a horse to lead his corps on Eylau (very metal). Has a very cool portrait where he points at a portrait of himself at Arcole

Gogol:

[no propaganda submitted]

Gros:

One of Napoleon’s main painters. Pioneer of French Romanticism. Inspired many artists such as Delacroix and Géricault. He was very pretty.”

Clausewitz:

"what could possibly be sexier than a prussian uniform and a lasting impact on military theory?”

Czartoryski:

"Decided that the way to free Poland was by having a threesome with Alexander and his wife.”

[whencyclopedia]

Charles Cornwallis

Charles Cornwallis (1738-1805), 1st Marquess and 2nd Earl Cornwallis, was a British military officer and statesman best known for surrendering to George Washington at the Siege of Yorktown, the final decisive engagement of the American Revolutionary War (1775-1783). After the war, Cornwallis went on to serve in administrative posts in India and Ireland.

Early Life

Charles Cornwallis was born on 31 December 1738, in Grosvenor Square in London, England, the scion of an old and distinguished family. His ancestor, Frederick Cornwallis, had fought for the Royalists in the English Civil Wars (1642-1651) and had even joined King Charles II of England in exile; for his loyal service to the Stuarts, Frederick was made Baron Cornwallis in 1661 following the restoration of Charles II to the English throne. Members of the Cornwallis family would go on to prosper in various positions across the British Empire. Charles' uncle, Edward Cornwallis, served as the colonial governor of Nova Scotia and founded the town of Halifax, while another uncle, Frederick, was Archbishop of Canterbury.

Charles was the eldest of six children born to Charles, 1st Earl Cornwallis, and his wife Elizabeth Townshend. As a youth, he was educated at Eton College, where he sustained a permanent eye injury during a game of field hockey, accidentally inflicted by Shute Barrington, future bishop of Durham. In December 1757, shortly before his 19th birthday, he was commissioned in the British Army as an ensign in the Grenadier Guards. Hoping to broaden his understanding of military matters, he traveled across Europe under the tutelage of a Prussian officer before enrolling in a military academy in Turin, Italy. The young Cornwallis was described as "an English aristocrat of the finest type…enlightened, tolerant, and humane; contemptuous of money and indifferent to the outward badges of honour…a living and most attractive example of antique and single-minded patriotism" (quoted in Boatner, 285).

Upon completing his studies at Turin, Cornwallis learned that his regiment was being deployed to fight in the ongoing Seven Years' War (1756-1763). Cornwallis served in Germany in the allied army commanded by Prince Ferdinand of Brunswick-Wolfenbüttel. He first saw action at the Battle of Minden (1 August 1759) in which the British and their German allies thwarted an attempted French invasion of Hanover; it was during this action that the father of Marquis de Lafayette, one of Cornwallis' future battlefield opponents, was killed. After Minden, Cornwallis purchased a captaincy in the 85th Regiment of Foot and briefly returned to England where he won election to the House of Commons in January 1760.

Returning to the battlefront, Cornwallis was promoted to lieutenant colonel and assumed command of his regiment. He saw heavy fighting at the Battle of Villinghausen (15-16 July 1761), where he was noted for his gallantry, and participated in the Battle of Wilhelmsthal (24 June 1762). During these campaigns, Cornwallis met and befriended fellow British officers Henry Clinton and William Phillips, both of whom would also serve as generals during the American Revolution. Cornwallis fought in several more minor engagements in Germany before the end of the war the following year.

Continue reading...

[essayofthoughts]

canonically, is percy the type of person that’s too embarrassed/stuffy to say “i love you” or show pda to vex in public?

You seem to be asking for a straightforward ruling and sadly, I cannot give you one because you're assuming the factors in play and assuming, so far as I can tell, wrongly.

Percy is a very private person. He's hesitant to show affection to anyone, even Keyleth - his best friend and one of the only people he reliably accepts hugs from in the whole group. Even Vex's kisses to his cheek make him blushy and stuttery before they get together, but it's not really about him being embarrassed or stuffy - it's upbringing and trauma.

The man was tortured, remember. He has every reason to be incredibly iffy about touch, especially non-consensual touch, from relative strangers and people he doesn't like or trust.

Additionally, Percy has said before "We didn't touch in my family," and Taliesin has elaborated that he was kind of riffing on a British/Prussian idea of stoicism and not showing affection much even within family. Percy isn't really that opposed to physical affection, he's just more used to verbal expression of affection and gift-giving, and was probably taught that needing physical affection was childish - everyone else's liking for it (aside, notably, from Vex) probably contributed to his feeling like the only adult in the room.

He rarely initiates hugs - usually only when he's drunk or highly emotional or both and usually with Keyleth - and rarely initiates physical affection at all - other exceptions being things like the kiss with Vex - and has been known to recoil from physical affection with certain people - Tiberius after the Slayer's Take; one can point out Percy was recovering from injuries, but he did also accept Keyleth hugs then despite that. We also know that when in a bad mood with someone - Keyleth, after he got blinded because of her - he can be more standoffish, because Percy is a prickly bastard sometimes, especially when he feels hurt or betrayed.

I mean, why wouldn't he? The most significant time he was hurt and betrayed, his personal tutor betrayed his whole family and he was tortured. What started out as probably a mild teenage defensiveness has been drastically amplified by severe trauma.

Further, Percy has his own self-worth issues; combined with his upbringing he is very unlikely to impose his desires on others especially where they relate to affection. It gets easier the longer and better he knows someone - hence his increased ease hugging Keyleth over the course of the campaign, and how he's perfectly comfortable going arm in arm with Vex at several points.

And tying back to what I said earlier - Percy is fine with verbal expressions of affection; it's actually the thing he's most comfortable with - and even sometimes tips his hand with, because he can be so verbally expressive. Who here remembers "Never forget you're my favourite and I'm so sorry"? Verbal affection is far and away what Percy is most comfortable with, closely followed by gift-giving. His awkwardness around physical affection isn't stuffiness or embarrassment - it's his upbringing and his trauma. He gets more affectionate as it goes on and while his sense of privacy means he clearly has some ideas of what is and isn't appropriate - "This is a deeply inappropriate convincing mena-mechanism and it is working" when Vex is holding his face in front of everyone to convince him to come with her to Elysium - he also has no compunctions being sickeningly cute with her verbally and kissing her in public - remember the debate over who gets death ward? And the fact that, when told to "Just kiss already" both Laura and Taliesin just went "we do"?

So, TL;DR: It's not embarrassment or stuffiness that makes Percy hesitant with physical affection, it's his upbringing and trauma, and over time, he gets increasingly at ease with it when it's people he likes and trusts. Verbal affection, meanwhile, is absolutely one of his most preferred ways to express affection, and he is absolutely unstinting in it.

He's never going to be unable to say "I love you" to Vex in public - when fighting Thordak he goes out of his way to reassure Vex that of all the things he regrets, being with her and showing his love for her is not one of those things. Percy is deeply considerate of his loved ones (if not always the most reliable about it with others and people he's drifted from, see: Cassandra) and, knowing her self-worth issues, he is never going to let Vex doubt he loves her. He may have compunctions about certain forms of publicly shown affection, due to his upbringing and the etiquette he was raised with and his sense of privacy, but he also knows how easily some of that could, for Vex, butt up against her feeling unwanted or like something to be ashamed of and hidden, and he will never ever contribute to those feelings. Percy loves Vex, is aware of her self-worth issues and the trauma she gained from Syngorn, and will do everything in his power to reassure her and help her feel loved. Even if that means he feels uncomfortable - before Umbrasyl, the soot facepaint, Percy refusing until Vex draws a line down his face and his only response is "I feel violated but thank you".

Percy has his hangups, but he will always end up doing all he can to set those aside if he thinks they'll hurt Vex. He loves her and the last thing he wants to do is hurt her.

[best-hohenzollern-ruler]

Round 2: Friedrich Wilhelm III vs Wilhelm I

Friedrich Wilhelm III (r. 1797-1840)

A weak willed and indecisive man, it was only after immense pressure from his wife that Friedrich Wilhelm took up the banner against Napoleon. It was under his reign that the disastrous defeats at Jena and Auerstadt took place and that Prussia was carved up into the Confederation of the Rhine.

His promise of a constitution galvanized the Prussian people to take up arms, though he ultimately failed to follow through once the war had ended.

Despite his ineptitude as a leader and general, he was quite a good father. His marriage to Louise von Mecklenburg-Strelitz was a peaceful and happy one and his relationship with his kids was quite impressive for a Hohenzollern. (Note: Low bar - T)

Wilhelm I (r. 1861-1888)

Wilhelm der Große

As the second son of Friedrich Wilhelm III, it was never expected that Wilhelm would take up the crown. As was his duty as a German prince, Wilhelm joined the military. There he served under General Blücher in the campaign against Napoleon and won the Iron Cross for his valiant actions on the battlefield.

Nowadays he is fittingly known as "Wilhelm the Great" for his role in the unification of Germany. It was under his guidance that Otto von Bismarck was appointed Minister-President of Prussia during the 1862 crisis and it was with his permission that the Iron Chancellor reshaped the map of Europe to facilitate Germany's ascension.

[fitzrove]

Fun fact! If you put in "Exlibris & Supralibros: Kronprinz Rudolf" into the austrian national library's online search, you can find a small selection of books they have that are from crown prince rudolf's library xD I know there are maybe 3 people who care about this but among the books he had are:

"Humoristische Schriften : 1 : Das Soldatenleben im Frieden" (= Humorous writings : 1 : The life of a soldier in peace) from 1872. This would've come out when he was like 14 so I'm assuming it's like, teenage boy literature ajjajjd. Like how publishers (used to?? Maybe it was a 00s thing) make loads of these joke collection books with crass and not that great humor which I (an 8 year old girl XD) would then read. Wait omg he actually also had parts 2, 3, 4 which are titled "Wachstubenabenteuer 1/2/3"... I don't know how to translate "wachstube", it's like a military/police break room xD So um. break room adventures...

All of Carl von Clausewitz's big huge multi-part military theory work "On War" from the 1830s (I anticipated this lmao)

Books on roman law

"Guide to cattle breeding" (??? xD I'm assuming a lot of these are his school books)

"Textbook of zoology for grammar schools, secondary schools, forestry and agricultural colleges, pharmaceutical institutes etc. and for self-instruction". 1874

French hypnosis guide on "animal magnetism" (12 easy steps), 1879. Omg I need to read this wtf ajsjjffj. It's like mesmerism stuff. Maybe Rudolf was hate reading it... If anyone else speaks French here's an archive.org link

"The Russian-Turkish campaign in European Turkey in 1828 and 1829. With maps and plans" by Helmuth von Moltke the Elder (an extremely prominent Prussian military commander)

It's so wild to me that the literal actual books still exist in the ÖNB's collections ajdjdj amazing

[microcosme11]

Napoleon gives Lavalette one of his casual herculean orders

The day before leaving for Russia, he called his faithful postmaster, Count Lavalette, and entrusted him with a first nest egg to keep under his belt. “Go to the Grand Marshal,” he ordered, “he will give you treasury bonds for the sum of one million six hundred thousand francs. You will secretly convert them into gold…” No sooner said than done, which certainly stressed out poor Lavalette who didn’t know where to hide all this gold.

According to Constant, present during this scene, the Emperor even added a chest filled with diamonds, taken directly from the Tuileries treasure. In the process, Lavalette decided to have a collection of false hollow books made (no less than 54 volumes!) under the banal title of Ancient and Modern History, to hide the Emperor's gold. When the French campaign occurred in 1814, the count hid his fabulous library under the parquet floor of his castle.

And when three hundred Prussians camped for two months within its walls, they had no idea that part of the imperial fortune was sleeping under their feet! The loyal director ended up giving half of it to Prince Eugène de Beauharnais, and deposited four hundred thousand francs in the name of the Emperor in the coffers of the banker Laffitte, for greater security. He was well inspired, we will see later (...).

Le tresor perdu de Napoleon_Ier (herodote.net)

link

[empirearchives]

Eugène Delacroix speaks with Menneval about the abdication of Napoleon. Marshal Ney conspires to kill Napoleon.

———

Note:

Baron de Menneval (1778-1850), the former secretary of Napoleon who had accompanied him in the retreat from Russia; author of a book of memories of the Empire.

Baron Fain (1778-1837), one of the secretaries of the Emperor, published historical memories of the Empire.

———

From Delacroix’s journal. Monday, 23 July 1849:

In the evening M. Menneval told me of the frightful conduct of the generals and marshals toward the Emperor, at Arcis-sur-Seine or sur-Aube. M. Fain, lodging in another house than that of the Emperor, and crossing a square in order to join his master, came on a group of generals, among them Marshal Ney, who were deliberating among themselves as to whether they should not mete out to their benefactor the fate of Romulus: to kill him and to bury him there seemed to them as good a means as any other of getting rid of him and of getting back to their hotel, where they could enjoy themselves; he was, so they said, the scourge of France, etc. The Emperor, to whom M. Fain related the affair with emotion that will be imagined, contented himself with saying that they were mad.

Marshal Ney’s greatest impropriety toward him occurred after the battle of the Moscova, when he complained that by sparing the guard, the Emperor had deprived him of the fruits of a more complete victory. Marshal Ney was the cruelest at Fontainebleau; he went to the point of threatening him with physical injury if he did not abdicate.

In the course of the Russian campaign, Berthier did not fear to tell him how terrible it was to see oneself endlessly dragged into new enterprises: “What good does it do,” said he, “to have wealth, houses, and lands, if one has to go to war eternally and compromise everything?”

To their reproaches, which often were odious, Napoleon’s only answer was patience; despite their ingratitude, he loved them as old comrades.

Before the last years, M. Menneval told me no one had dared to permit himself an observation when he gave an order. Confidence had partially abandoned him, but the sureness and firmness of his genius not at all, as the French campaign so well proved. If, at Waterloo, at the end of the battle, there had been at his disposal that reserve of the guard which he refused to engage at the Moscova, he would still have won the battle, despite the arrival of the Prussians.

I asked M. Menneval whether he had not been completely indisposed at the Moscova, according to generally accredited opinion. This is correct: he was sick, and attacked with a loss of voice, especially after the battle, so that it was impossible for him to give a spoken order.

He was obliged to scribble his orders on bits of paper. Notwithstanding, he was completely master of his ideas. But after the battle of Dresden, the sudden indisposition with which he was seized paralyzed all the operations, carried with it the defeat of Vandamme, etc.

During the Consulate, he was very sick with malignant mange. which he had contracted at the siege of Toulon. He would lean against his table, pressing his side with his hand during crises of violent suffering. His paleness and his thinness, at this period, are explained by this sickly condition. Corvisart got him rid of his disease, at least in appearance; but it is probable that the disease of which he died had its original cause in this cruel malady.

Source: The Journal of Eugène Delacroix

[joachimnapoleon]

We can’t let Marshal Davout get all the love today—it’s Lasalle’s birthday too (10 May 1775). And I like him more than Davout anyway. Ahem. Here’s a little tribute to him I translated from an old French book.

The name of Lasalle has remained legendary in the French cavalry. His military life, so short and full of glory, his extraordinary acts of vigor and bravery during the Egyptian campaign recalling the prowess of a Richard the Lionheart, his audacity always crowned with success in Italy, Prussia, Spain, the surrender of the fort of Stettin immortalized by a portrait by Gros in which we see Lasalle awaiting, with a proud attitude, the Prussian governor who brought him the keys of the town, his death in full triumph at the age of thirty-four years while leading the final charges which would decide the victory of Wagram, have surrounded his memory with an unequalled prestige. He died on time. He did not know the reverses in the face of which so many characters have weakened.

Count of the Empire in 1808, provided with rich dotations in Hanover and Westphalia, he rejected the selfish thoughts to which the dignitaries of the First Empire had too often yielded. His compatriot Roederer, having met him in Spain, recounted a conversation he had had with him on 28 April 1809, several weeks before his death. Roederer had told him: “One must take care of his life when it can be useful.” – “Me,” replied Lasalle, “I have lived enough by now. What does one want to live for? To bring himself honor, to make his way, his fortune; ah well! I’m thirty-three years old, I am a general of division. –Do you know that the Emperor gave me a pension of fifty thousand livres last year? That is immense!” –And as Roederer observed to him that in order to enjoy all of this he should avoid useless and inglorious dangers: “No! Not at all,” he cried; “one rejoices in welcoming all of that, one rejoices in waging war. It is already a great enough pleasure to wage war; one is in the noise, in the smoke, in the movement; and then, when one has made his name, he has enjoyed the pleasure of making it; when one has made his fortune, one is sure that his wife, his children will want for nothing. All of this, is enough: me, I could die tomorrow.”

Source: D'Essling à Wagram. Lasalle: correspondence recueillie par Robinet de Clery. 1891. Pages 1-2.

[josefavomjaaga]

Correspondence between Ney and Soult during the Prussian Campaign 1806

I’ve come across some great source books on Gallica and Google Books: Foucart, "Campagne de Prusse", detailing just about every important letter and order written and exchanged during that campaign. Below are some excerpts from Volume 2: Prenzlau – Lubeck that seem to point, like @impetuous-impulse has already resumed in this post, to Soult and Ney being still at rather friendly terms with each other by autumn 1806. (Much friendlier actually than, for example, Ney and Murat, the latter being extremely brief in his letters to Ney.)

For context: Soult and Ney are headed in the same direction, in the region of Magdeburg, cutting off that city and looking for the corps of the Duke of Weimar, Soult being about a day’s march ahead, and Ney supporting him.

Soult to Ney, Groß-Wanzleben, 21 October 1806 [… Explains that he will move his corps, technically in defiance of orders he had received, but very much following Napoleon’s overall plan] Thus I will leave at your disposal all the villages which are on the right of Gross-Rodensleben, of Nieder-Dodeleben and Diesdorf, to be occupied by your troops, and I will take charge of all the left. However, if it were possible for you to come tomorrow morning early to Gross-Wanzleben and even before your troops have moved, we will agree on the positions that the two corps should take. In addition, I will not give any orders until I have seen you, and this is all the less inconvenient as tomorrow's march will be short. You tell me, my dear Marshal, that His Serene Highness the Grand Duke of Berg has placed at your disposal the dragoon division commanded by General Klein. The Prince has written me as much, and today I sent out to various points to look for this division. If tomorrow morning I have the pleasure of seeing you, we will agree on its services so that when necessary it will serve both of us. I repeat to you, my dear Marshal, the assurance of my perfect attachment. […]

That’s "mon cher maréchal" no less than twice in one paragraph, plus wanting to meet in person to plan what to do next. For Soult, that's socialicing to an almost scary degree 😁.

And apparently headquarters counted on those two getting along rather well:

Berthier to Soult, Dessau, 22 October 1806 […] The Emperor recommends that you not be too confident, that you keep your corps well united, that you always consult with Marshal Ney, so that if the enemy were to attack you by a sudden and unexpected movement, Marshal Ney would be in a position to support you. […]

Something that the two of them were already doing, obviously. And even successfully, as Ney reports back to Berthier:

Ney to Berthier, Wanzleben, 22 October 1806 […] I have seen Marshal Soult and we are in complete agreement on everything relating to the service to be carried out concerning the investment of Magdeburg on the left bank of the Elbe. […]

That’s a far cry from the convention of Lugo!

And finally, Soult – extremely carefully! - trying to get Ney to do something without actually ordering him:

Soult to Ney, Hohen-Warsleben, 23 October 1806, 10 PM At last, my dear Marshal, here is the column of the Duke of Weimar making its appearance. [reports of his advance guard having encountered the enemy and what they have learned; what he plans to do …] I will leave in front of Magdeburg another division of infantry and 2 regiments of cavalry, because it is probable that as soon as the enemy in the town learns of the combat, he will bring out part of his forces to create a diversion. If, after having made this disposition, you judged it appropriate to have the remainder of your cavalry brought to the left, in the direction of Eichenbarleben, and even to present a head of column of infantry, I believe that the enemy thus enveloped could not escape and that we would take all that makes up this column. I am telling you in confidence what I think would be appropriate in this circumstance. Please believe me that I am not putting any pretence into it, and that, if you had been the first to be informed, I would have received your advice with pleasure and gratitude. Please let me know what you intend to do, so that if necessary I can adjust my arrangements.

He’s almost apologetic about daring to make a suggestion to Ney. Obviously, he knows that Ney does not like this at all.

[lucy-water]

HEAD CANNON ABOUT PRUSSIA x FEM AUSTRIA

I just discovered that King Frederick William III of Prussia did marry an Austrian noble lady, Countess Auguste von Harrach in 1824.

So now I cannot stop a headcanon that at one point in history Mr.Prussia married Ms. Austria. (Or Mr. Austria to Mr. Prussia. Or Ms. Austria to Ms.Prussia. Or Ms.Prussia to Mr. Austria. Whatever floats your PruAus boat).

However, the marriage between Countess Auguste and King Frederick was a sad one. As Auguste was a Catholic (she later changed to Protestant) the marriage was kept a secret at first and when the Prussian court knew about this, not many of them welcomed her. Auguste also came from a small noble house which unfit to marry a King so she was never regarded as a queen in her own right. In the Prussian court, she was ranked after all the princes and princesses of the royal family. She had to sit behind them in the opera theater and at the meal she could not sit beside the King but had to sit in the last row of the table, far away from her husband. Even King Frederick treated her coldly, never spoke to her nor looked her way when they were in public.

But despite all of the humiliation, Auguste still composed herself with kindness and kept her warm nature to everybody. Soon, she gained the respect of the court and was allowed to attend her husband's funeral. According to some accounts that I could find, she was usually sick and had frequent travel to France and Italy to visit her relatives. But some suspect that the true reason for this might come from the way she was treated at the Court. When she wrote to her family, she always tried to hide all the suffering she faced but one still can feel the sadness in her letter. Auguste did not have any children and passed away when she was 72 in 1873.

So my head cannon for the marriage between Gilbert and Annaliese would be the same as Auguste and Frederick- an unhappy kind of marriage. But I don't think Gilbert treated her badly as the King of Prussia did with his wife. I think they married a few years after 1824, and to be able to do so they did it as humans rather than as countries. Countess Auguste had tried to warn the sad fate of an Austrian marrying a Prussian to her friend, but Lady Annaliese Von Edelstein was head in the cloud for the Cavalry Colonel- Gilbert Beilschmidt, who rescued her from Paris when the Revolution happened. One could say Colonel Beilschmidt and his lady wife were a happy couple. He truly cared for her and did not give a damn about the protocol, he proudly introduced everyone to his musically talented and beautiful wife at the Prussia court, he sat with her, danced with her at the balls, and held her hand while they walking in public. Although was neglected and being treated with coldness in the Court when Gilbert not around, Annaliese still thought her life was happy like a fairy tale for the first time after many centuries of political marriages.

But everything changed around 1848, Gilbert was busy with the Schleswig war so he usually left the house. Without Gilbert's appearance, Anna was not welcome at the Court nor even in her own house. The servants listened and obeyed Lord Beilschmidt rather than the lavish Lady Beilschmidt. Some whispered she was too much like that Queen in France, spendy and only cared about herself. While her husband was on military campaigns, risking his life; she traveled on her own whim. Some even rumored that she had love affairs behind her husband's back. This put many strains on Gilbert and Anna's relationship. Every time he came home, Gilbert could not find his wife sweetly waiting for him like she used to as she was on her trips, and the rumor about her "love affair" came to his ear. So when Anna returned, both of them started to fight. He demanded to know why she kept leaving. "I just want some fresh air", Anna would only answer him like that. (Truthfully, she felt neglected and disrespected that why she ran away.)

Of course, he knew she lied, so he ordered the servants not to let her leave the house without his permission. Anna started to develop serious illnesses (mental problems were not a thing back in those days) which required her to be bedridden for many days. As countries, this is really strange as they do not usually fall ill like this. But Gilbert did not have time to dig more on the matter, he had a war to worry and the best thing he could do for Anna at that moment was brought her to the countryside for resting. She tried to run away back to Austria but the servants always guarded her carefully so Anna was never successful. Gilbert kept her there most of the time between 1848-1864 and only brought her back to Berlin or Vienna when ordered by his King. At this point, Prussia and Austria were in alliance, Anna was being told to make Gilbert feel more at ease with her so Austria would have more advantage in the political situation. In short, even when stayed in Vienna, Anna could not find any help and had to return back with Gilbert. Life with Gilbert in the countryside could never be said horrible, he spoilt her to the root every time he was around her, but Anna felt suffocated. She knew that once Gilbert back to his campaign, the people around her would treat her with coldness and she would be left alone again. She missed the time when she could gather all the ladies at the court and had a small music concern, she missed the walk in the Vienna woods, she wanted to see the newest opera and discussed with all her lady friends, stay up late at night read books in the library, or just wandering around Vienna and admire the beauty of Cathedrals and Palaces. Anna missed her freedom.

The situation between Austria and Prussia got worse by the end 1864. Austrian Court demanded Anna to be returned but Gilbert decided to keep her closer to him to make her a bargaining chip if the situation called for. He moved her to a more rural area and made sure she could not hear any news from Berlin or Vienna. Even put soldiers to guard her instead of normal servants. The Austrian Government sent men to rescue her, but since Gilbert hid her too well all the attempts had to be abandoned. Anna decided to plan her escape on her own. Somehow she succeeded this time and ran far away as best as she could just to realize, she lost. When Gilbert found her again, she already passed out from hunger and dehydration. He took care of her, but she refused to talk to him nor eat anything, only drank a little bit of water. A lot of drama happened here, but in the end could not see Annaliese suffering like that, Gilbert agreed to let Anna back in Vienna. A few months before the Austro-Prussian war happened.

Ludwig at first did not know much about his brother's relationship with Miss Austria except big historical event between them. However, during a summer holiday, while staying at the Beilschmidt country's house. He heard the people around told about a story of a Colonel and his mistress, the previous owner of this house. That the mistress was a noble lady from Austria, being kidnapped by the Colonel and locked here. Passed away while being held captive, the ghost of the Austrian lady was still full of hatred and haunted the place. When Ludwig asked his brother about this, he laughed and told him that just a silly old wives's tale. But Ludwig could sense that his brother was lying and when Miss Austria came to visit him, he saw the peasants nearby were afraid of her. That woman, she shared the same face as the Mistress. The peasant whispered like that and the rumor about the Austrian ghost returning to take revenge on the Colonel's descendants spread among the whole area and made Ludwig's vacation end sooner than planned. Back to Berlin, Ludwig did some of his own research and found out about his brother's marriage with Miss Austria. But until recently, Ludwig discovered that this marriage was still valid as his brother nor Miss Austria had never requested to annul this marriage yet. Now he understands why his brother can stay at Miss Austria's house without any of her protests about this.

------------------------------------------------

Credit to Aguste Von Harrach. Here a picture that I really like about her. (Thank you lady for inspiring me to write a whole fanfic plot for my OTP. Truly hope you got your own happiness right now than the previous life you got).

[yourfellowhuman07]

Fates Rewritten

A She-Ra: Princess of Power 2018 Fanfiction

________

For years, The Princess Alliance has been campaigning for their independence from the Eternian Empire to no avail. Out of options, they seek the help of Zoria, the only galactic entity that matches the might of the Eternians. Now with the crown prince's army, the Etherians must fight against the Eternian armies and their mightiest warrior: She-Ra.

________

Chapter 2: The Garden

Everyone’s heads were pulled to the tall figure at the doorway, seemingly taken aback by the glittery group of Etherians. Fiery crimson eyes peeked through the shadow of the helmet, and the glow of mouth was faintly seen through the front. The armor comprised small Prussian blue plates that attached and gave the illusion of dragon scales. Underneath was silver chainmail overtop a navy fabric.

“Apologies for my interruption, your majesties,” his voice was low, gruff, and slightly muffled from his helmet. “I will take my l-”

“Nonsense.” Queen Ziella cut in, her face noticeably softer. “Come. We were just talking about you.”

After regaining his moxie, he walked across the room and bowed to the High King and Queen.

“Meet our top general, my son, Crown Prince Hordak.” Queen Ziella boasted.

“At your service.” He faced the Alliance and gave them a bow.

“Take your helmet off, boy. Let them see your face.” High King Orphir commanded with a wave of his hand.

With a small sigh, he slipped the helmet off of his head and ran a hand through his short, curly, indigo hair. He looked back at his parents with eyes framed in black paint in a pattern akin to bat wings.

“I trust your travels were safe, my son.” Queen Ziella asked, leaning slightly forward.

“Yes, mother. We defeated many of the monsters of the north and dealt with some insignificant scuffles between neighboring provinces. Now, may I ask who they are?” Prince Hordak waved a hand at the Alliance.

“We are the Princess Alliance of Etheria,” Queen Angella replied, stepping forward. “We have come to your planet to ask for your help in our campaign to leave the Eternian Empire.”

“So you wish to wage war?” He inquired, raising what would be his brow.

“Not exactly, but we are willing to engage in a war if it comes down to it.”

“Which will hopefully not happen,” High King Orphir interjected. “In two days, I will travel to the Eternian capital and meet with the Emperor and Empress of Eternia and plead their case.”

“What if they refuse?” Prince Hordak inquired.

“That is something to be determined later. Now, Osian.” The steward briskly walked to the foot of the platform. He pushed his circular glasses up closer to his tangerine eyes. “See to it that our guests have rooms. They will be staying with us for the next couple of days. Tell the kitchens to prepare dinner for us all.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty,” he replied. The steward turned on his heels and continued his brisk walk out of the large wooden doors.

“Thank you, Your Majesty, for your gracious hospitality.” Angella thanked.

“Do not worry. For now, explore. Our home is your home. Perhaps my son could show you around,” Prince Hordak’s eyes widened.

Queen Ziella whispered to him in their native tongue. Her tone seemed worried and partially annoyed. He whispered back, sounding assured.

“You are all dismissed.” He waved his hand, and the Alliance departed along with the Prince.

____________________________________

After the guards closed the heavy wooden door, the Alliance breathed a sigh of relief.

“That was easier than expected.” Glimmer commented.

“Thankfully.” Angella sighed.

“What do we do now?” Frosta asked.

“Didn’t the king say he was showing us around?” Mermista whispered, gesturing to the Prince who was scrolling through something on his datapad.

“It’s best not to bother him-”

“So what are you going to show us first?” Entrapta asked, interrupting Micah’s warning. The Prince looked at her bewildered, not used to directness when dealing with strangers.

“I suppose I could show you the gardens.” He said slowly. “They are revered as the most illustrious across our planet.”

“Only if it is no trouble,” Angella interjected, praying the Crown Prince was not offended.

“Of course it is not.” The Prince assured, regaining himself and his manners. “Come with me.”

_____________________________

Another set of guards opened large glass doors, thick humidity hitting the Alliance like a brick wall, revealing an expansive greenhouse. It had a giant dome that reached high into the sky and pristine marble floors that stayed impeccably shiny. Fragrant flowers bloomed everywhere in raised garden beds, and delicate Butterflies and plush Bees fluttered from bloom to bloom. A large fountain sat in the middle, spouting cool water. A tall statue was on the top of the fountain. It was of a Zorian woman with a crown on her head holding a basket of flowers. Across the greenhouse was another set of doors that opened into an extensive garden outdoors.

A tall woman in a Maya blue tabard and a sapphire dress stood admiring a white hydrangea bush. Her hair was long and indigo, and she had glowing azure eyes. Her ears perked up as the Alliance entered, and her eyes lit up when she saw the Prince.

“Hordak!” she shouted. She ran over to the prince, pushing past the princesses, and flung her arms around his neck. “I was wondering when you would return home. You have been gone for months.”

“Hello to you too, CeEllia.” He greeted, exasperated and slightly embarrassed, pulling her off of him.

“Don’t take that tone with me. I have a right to be worried about my baby brother being gone for months on end.”

“You were born five minutes before me. You hardly constitute my older sister.”

“Oh, you believe what you will. Now who are these people?” CeEllia asked, gesturing toward the Alliance.

“They are rulers from the Eternian colony named Etheria. They are seeking our aid in their fight to gain independence. In two days, our father will meet with the Eternians. In the meantime, they will be staying with us.”

“I see.” She turned toward the Alliance. “Welcome to Zoria. I am Princess CeEllia. I hope you find your stay favorable.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, princess.” Angella greeted her with a small bow.

“The pleasure is all mine. I trust my little brother has been taking care of you.” Hordak rolled his eyes.

“How about you show our guests around the gardens, dear sister.” Hordak forced out between his teeth.

“Splendid idea, little brother.” She replied in a plastic tone. “Come with me.”

CeEllia led the Alliance through a path lined with purple ceanothus as the crown prince followed.

Only Angella was left standing, half-heartedly admiring the rose bushes. Micah looked around, confused. When he spotted her, he went to his wife’s side.

“Are you feeling okay?” Micah wrapped a hand around his wife’s.

“Yes.” She turned to look at her husband. “The meeting went better than expected.” A small smile formed on her face.

“It did, didn’t it.” His thumb made small circles on his hand.

“I just… worry.”

“I understand. It’ll all work out, promise.”

I hope you are right, Angella thought.

“Come on,” he gave a slight tug on her hand, “let’s catch up with the others.” Micah gave her a warm smile. Angella returned that smile as the two went to join the Alliance.

______________________________

“These gardens were originally grown by my great-great-great grandmother, High Queen Terrina. She had a fondness for lavender and roses.” CeEllia explained this as she walked past fragrant lavender, followed by the Alliance.

“This place is beautiful.” Perfuma, who had quickly warmed up to this foreign planet, complimented.

“Thank you. I-” CeEllia saw Hordak leaving out of the corner of her eye. “My apologies. I need to speak with my brother.”

“That’s okay, dear. We don’t need to bother you.” Castaspella reassured.

“Thank you.” She turned her head. “Hordak!” He turned his head to her. “Can you come here?”

To the amazement of the Etherians, Hordak’s entire body was compressed into a small lighting bolt. It zipped across the garden right next to CeEllia before Hordak rematerialized.

“What is it that you need?” He asked casually, ignoring the astonished faces of the Etherians.

“I must speak with you.” She took him by the arm and turned her head to the Etherians. “I must take my leave. Enjoy the gardens.” She led the Prince through the green bushes.

Before the twins got out of earshot, the Etherians heard them whispering to each other in their native tongue.

___________________________________________

The twin royals sat in a white gazebo on a small table. Green vines grew on the white columns. Frilly fish swam in a clear pond sprinkled with flowering lily pads. The warm sun glints off the clear water.

“< So what is the deal with these foreigners? >” CeEllia asked in her native tongue, her accent becoming more prominent.

“< They claim to need our aid, but we can’t know if their intentions are pure. >” Hordak answered in his native tongue. “< Their story does make sense. The Eternians are notorious for their strictness when a colony is concerned. >”

“< Just because a story makes sense doesn’t mean it is true. >”

“< That is why we must remain cautious. For all we know, they could be working with the Eternians. For now, we act as if what they say is true. I will speak with our parents and Melitchie and advise them to increase security and assign guards to each of the Etherians. >”

“< Good. Good. >” CeEllia paused. “< What if a war does break out? >” 

“< Then we will fight. Regarding the Etherians, we have ways of keeping their intentions pure. >”

CeEllia nodded her head. The two sat in silence, neither sure how to continue the conversation.

“< Never mind foreign affairs. >” CeEllia blurted out, wanting conversation. “< You’ve been gone for eight months, and I have much to tell you. >”

“< I am sure you do. How is your husband? >”

“< Castor is well. He has been in an excellent mood lately. >” She answered, a shy smile forming on her face.

“< And why is that? >” He asked, sensing his sister had something brewing.

“< Well, he is going to be a father. >”

Hordak paused. His face pinched into a perplexed look. His face softened as the realization washed over him. A wide smile graced his face as he rushed to scoop his sister in a hug, picking her up off the ground.

[evita-shelby]

Garden of Eden

Part iv (the final part)

Cw:mentions of sex, thoughts of violence, infidelity etc

Gif by @crackshipandcrap

A/n: heaven is @call-sign-shark oc, and thank you shark, @zablife and @cljordan-imperium me this fic idea

(Prev)

He can’t sleep alone.

Ever since the war ended, Tommy cannot sleep alone without being plagued by night terrors no drug can rid him of.

Women helped, just the presence of one in his bed quieted the shovels.

Even if she hadn’t been pregnant, he would’ve forgiven her and returned to his rightful place in her life and bed.

During their separation he’d come to her as he did now, except then she’d welcome him back and even let him use her like he used other women.

Tommy always felt ashamed of it after and blamed it on the alcohol when it was just his conscious making him feel guilt for his actions.

He needed her.

Especially tonight when he kills the Prussian boy with green eyes all over again.

Her door is open, he is relieved to find it unlocked after she kicked him out of it.

His witch turned to ice when he touched her, but it doesn’t stop him from burying his face in the crook of her neck and letting her all too familiar scent fill his nostrils.

Lavender, rose and anise, she’d given him a pouch of it a long time ago when he was courting her.

He’d said in the privacy of his mind that it would be better if the pouch came with her, and his witch had bitten her lip because she had heard it as if he’d spoken out loud.

“Just for tonight.” He whispers when she moves as far as the bed allows.

She stops then, lets him hold on to her like a life preserver, but doesn’t reciprocate his unwanted affections when he nuzzled her neck hoping to drown himself in the soothing smell of her hair and the feel her warm curves underneath the wine-red silk.

He broke her heart, and now he paid the price.

And he’ll pay it just like she paid hers.

Four children, she’d said in that porcelain tub in Brighton.

They’d grow old together and die as in love as they had been when they got married.

“I need you, Evie.” Tommy never did like begging, but now he does. Begs for scraps like a dog because karma decided he had been unfair to Eva.

Arthur had not made his wife grovel, no, he was too spellbound by the snow-white Frenchwoman to even think of punishing her like he punished his witch.

Tommy’s pride had demanded he punish his witch for ruining their marriage like that.

“Should’ve thought that before you lied to me about Ruby, Shelby.” She only calls him Shelby when she loathes him in all but name.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to lose you. Not after everything.” He apologized for the billionth time and each time he chips away at her icy walls.

“As if you’d even let me go.” She scoffed but let him hold her like they used to.

Ruby is to be passed off as some relative’s child and whether she lives here or there as a cousin is up to her mother.

The choice is up to her mother who takes it with aplomb even if it kills her to see Eva’s warmth towards her replaced by icy civility.

Tommy was a politician now; his reputation could not handle him being known as the philandering cunt who had a baby with his secretary while his wife was pregnant with their third child while on his campaign.

It is unfair to all, but they cannot afford to deal with this any differently.

Ruby looks like her siblings, only Charlie has Tommy’s eyes and she supposed when both parents are blue eyed people it was more likely that the child would have said eyes.

If you put her in the crib with Gabriel, you could almost believe they were twins.

“He told me why the two of you were separated.” Lizzie said as if that justified what she did to her.

“And you were such a good friend to the both of us that you let him use you for his comfort.” The witch responded with all the venom in heart.

“I could never say no to him, even when I had John, it was always Tommy.” Lizzie seemed to have forgotten that that was no excuse to fuck a friend’s husband.

“You were my friend, Lizzie. Did it ever occur to you that you were twisting the knife in my heart by letting your nostalgia get the better of you?” the witch asked her.

Tommy’s infidelities had not bothered her when it was women she didn’t care for, but when he fucked Lizzie, it took her all to not throttle him and her for hurting her like that.

After that she couldn’t even stand to hear her name.

She had a choice; she could have said no to him. But Lizzie made it fucking clear that her feelings for Tommy were greater than any friendship they had.

“Yes, but I also knew he would go back to you sooner or later, especially when he called me by your name when we fucked.” The taller woman flicked the ash of her cigarette on the crystal ashtray Eva threw at her husband’s head that night. “He’s never even seen Ruby. Sent Polly to deal with everything because I told him I wouldn’t get rid of the baby.”

Eva would feel a bit better, but all this does is make her want to kill Tommy some more.

If he came to her bed again, she’d like nothing more than to wrap her hands around his neck and just squeeze until he thinks she’s really going to kill him.

And he’d let her because at least she’s touching him.

“Ah, yes, the third traitor. God, how could I have been so stupid? Should’ve seen past all the fucking lies instead of trying to fix the steaming pile of shit my marriage has become.” The witch said drolly.

Playing the supplicant when Tommy was the one lying to her about his own fucking child.

So, she cheated on him with Heaven, but hers was different. Hers did not involve his friend and a secret love child.

Hers ended definitely then. Sure Heaven and Eva were still friends,but their romantic past stayed in the past because neither could risk their futures.

Polly had kept that secret from everyone better than Tom fucking did.

Secret keeping is a specialty for her, it seemed.

It was for the best, she had said.

The best for who? For Tommy so he could continue acting as if only she had done all the wrong?

For Lizzie who was put out of sight like a toy he didn’t want anymore?

For whom?

Many nights later, Tommy intrudes into her private sanctuary, her sitting room where she keeps all the things needed to practice her craft.

She reads in the red armchair wearing a black kimono robe over a sheer champagne nightgown.

Eva fights the urge to kick him away when he goes down on his knees, lifts the bare leg crossed over knee and caressing the smooth skin of her calf until he reached the ugly surgical scar on her ankle before kissing it like he’s worshipping her.

I need you; he doesn’t speak but the words are kissed on to her skin and the heat of them spreads until it tugged at her broken heart and kindled the fire in her loins.

She knows he prefers to be in charge, to exert his control in every aspect of his life including the bedroom, but there are days where he begs on his knees and promises to be a good boy to mummy.

Tonight, he begs her for forgiveness and submits to her as he kissed her legs and pauses at the knee asking for her permission to kiss that part of her, she’s denied him for the past three months.

Ruby’s long left with her mother and Lizzie starts over with a clean slate, in a job because she hates sitting on her hands and, as luck would have it, a good man courts her and doesn’t care about her past.

Ruby is cared for and cherished and on weekends, Tommy sees her as a father should.

The women are polite to each other but understand their friendship will take long to mend if it mends at all.

Tommy, however, knows he’s fucked up. He fucked so much that no jewels, no clothes, no rare carnivorous flowers and certainly no attempts of seduction would earn him her forgiveness.

He made her wait a fucking year for his, and he still has nine months to go.

The first time they fucked after he confronted her on her infidelity had been on the two-month mark when he came reeking of his too sweet gin and Eden’s cheap perfume.

I called her by your name the entire time, the commie knows her way around, but she’s not you, witch, this he had said as he beckoned her to sit on his lap and ride him because the younger woman hadn’t been enough for him.

Not even all of the other women combined could make him stop wanting her to the point of madness.

I bet Heaven couldn’t make you feel like this either, he would say as he used his intimate knowledge of her body to his own advantage.

The night Gabriel had been conceived; Tommy had eaten her pussy like astarved man because he can’t do with another woman when its her taste he wants in his mouth.

She’d kissed him for the first time in six months, relishing how the taste of her cum washed out whoever he had fucked or kissed earlier.

Didn’t conceal the smell of Lizzie’s perfume nor her red lipstick on his collar, Eva should have never let him be with her that night if she knew Ruby had been conceived that day too.

“I remember when you got this,” Tommy says gesturing to the sheer organza he's bunched up over her knee, “wore it for our second honeymoon. Charlie was asleep in the nursery, and you wanted me to fuck another baby in you on the balcony rail.

Asked you if you weren’t afraid of me dropping you and you said you weren’t, ‘cause you trusted me.” He nuzzles her knee as he says this, as if she’d ever forget any night she’d ever been with him.

“And now look how far we’ve fallen from that, Tom.” The witch said softly pretending she’s still interested in her book.

“We could have that again, Evie, if you’d only let me.” Tommy looks up at her, pleading at her to forgive him just as she once did.

“Can you erase the damage on a broken heart, my love?” she asks and spread herself wide for him.

This was not forgiveness, just as those nights hadn’t been.

This she tells herself as time passes and she finds herself thawing to her asshole husband.

On her birthday, a year and two months after Lizzie showed up at their doorstep, a red vase in the shape of a human heart appears on her coffee table.

It is a broken burgundy heart healed with gold and holding icy pink winter camellias.

He had given her pink camellias that night he went to her door. The flowers meant love, adoration and longing, something he had done on purpose because Polly had an old floriography book that used to belong to her mother.

There’s a note, written in his hand and poetic as he gives the reasons for the gift.

‘You asked if I could erase the damage on your broken heart, but you didn’t ask if I could make it more beautiful with its damage.

The Japanese call it kintsukuroi which in their language means golden repair.

You’ve repaired my heart, now let me repair yours.

Your penitent husband,

Thomas Shelby.’

The witch wants to burn the note.

Damn him.

He did this while they were having her birthday dinner, knew she’d come for the perfume vials that contain her homemade contraception because she’d need it to ensure the fourth baby in that vision doesn’t appear before its time.

Damn him.

“Did you get my gift, love?” he asks when she finds him still eating the left-over cake just as she’d left him.

Tommy smiles and pours her a drink, somehow his whiskey paired well with her devil’s food cake.

Reminded her of their birthdays in Small Heath, a simple birthday cake, whiskey or their bathtub gin.

And after she’d use the candles and drip hot wax onto him, or he’d drink the alcohol off her. Birthday person had full and utter control that night. Tonight was no different.

Eva may have had control these past nine months, but damn it, she’s not giving it up just yet. Perhaps if his Christmas present was goof enough, she might let Tommy dominate her just as she’s been doing.

“Oh, yes, lovely thing a heart healed with gold. Now I need jewelry to match it. A necklace and some earrings, perhaps.” She answered, hating how weak she was.

Did he feel that way when he forgave her that night as they felt Gabriel kick?

“Hm, I suppose I know what to get you for Christmas.” He said with this hopeful look about him, so hopeful, she is dying for him to ask her that same question she asked him a year ago. “That is if my wife will still have me.”

“She might, if you asked.” Eva drank whiskey to wash down the heavy chocolate.

“Am I forgiven?” he asks. While she would never trust him blindly, she would forgive him because she knew he means it and that there won’t be a next time.

Just because the Garden of Eden had burned to ash, didn’t mean they couldn’t pick up the pieces and start again.

"Yeah, but if you ever do it again---" she said exactly as he had said it that night he forgave her.