hasperkynipples | civil war au } { meddling mothers

Entry tags:

civil war au } { meddling mothers

Her son received a letter from a woman.

Not that the idea of Dean having female suitors is unheard of in the Winchester household, but before the war they weren't particularly ones to write. After the war - well, they were almost non-existent. Mary isn't one to deny the fact that her son came home different, a little bit colder but still gentle in the ways that mattered. He grew up in his time away and while the things he's seen were likely not pleasant, he isn't letting them mar him. At least, not in ways that she can see.

All the same, the letter from a woman, a Miss Christine Chapel, finds its way to their front door, and the inherent curiosity gets the better of her. She informs him of the letter, lets him read it, and waits for him to do something in response. In fact, she waits an entire week, and when he doesn't give her a return letter to put through the post, she takes matters into her own hands.

John will probably scold her for it later, but she also saw the look on her son's face when he read it. This meddling is worth doing.

It's takes some time for mail to travel, so much so that she almost completely forgot about the invitation she extended this "Christine Chapel." So when the blond woman appears at their doorstep while she's tending to the flowers in front of their home, she can't help but blink at her in surprise.

"Can I help you?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

"Nah, she's the best for that. We all learned to ride on her. She can be a bit difficult, but that's mostly when she's trying to figure out if you're riding her or if she's riding you." Which ... you want to be riding her, just for the record. "Just gotta show her who's boss."

There's an unappreciative snort from the horse. Dean turns back to her with a nod.

"You know I'm right."

Christine giggles at the horse's reaction and Dean talking back to her. Patting her nose, Christine adds, "You'll be nice to me, won't you sweet girl?" Because she's not sure if she can be the boss in this situation.

Maybe. We'll see. Dean just chuckles a bit, before gesturing for her to take a step back so that he can get in the gate and saddle her. "Oh, she'll be plenty nice. She's a big fan of a pretty face."

She moves aside, face warming up at the compliment. But she's unsure if she should be thanking him for it or not, so she decides to just stay out of the way until he beckons her over.

He saddles up the horse, making sure the side saddle was snug against the horse's back, because in that dress she wasn't going to be using anything else. Then he opens the gate to lead her out, watching as she obediently comes to a stop near Christine. Dean rubs her side as she stops before holding his hand out to her.

"We'll get you up there and settled so that you can get used to it while I saddle up one of the others to go with you."

"All right." She takes his hand, trying to mask her nervousness. This is something she really does want to do, so she hopes her eagerness can overcome that nervous feeling.

"How do I get up?" She's never really paid attention to ladies mounting horses before. It's a rare sight when you live in a city or town and carriages or wagons are available.

He pushes a stepping stool over from the side of the aisle, before offering his hand to her to help her step up. Once she does, he'll move his hands to her waist slowly. "I'm not trying to be improper, I simply wish to give you a hand."

The contact does made her feel giddy, like she's drunk too much champagne, but she's quick to slide a hand along his arm to brace against his bicep. The other hand follows on his opposite arm, and her eyes meet his, feeling bold.

"I know. I'm ready when you are."

"Alright." And with that, he lifts her up into the saddle with the ease of someone who's used to doing a lot of heavy lifting. He lets her settle in the saddle, before reaching for the reins and handing them to her. "Use these to guide her left or right, and pull up hard to stop."

Though she's sitting stiffly and still appears nervous, she takes the reins and nods. The idea of falling off and hitting her head has her knuckles white around the reins. Hopefully the mare doesn't take off.

"And you will be right beside me?"

He nods in agreement as he pulls up the second horse he saddled. He mounds him in one smooth motion, settling into the saddle easily and coming up next to her. "Every step of the way. Don't worry, I won't let her run away with you."

"Good. Holding you to that." She smiles a little, a bit of her unease lifting away knowing he'll be close by. That doesn't mean her grip on the reins loosens any, but at least she's holding them in a way that's not yanking at the bit in the mare's mouth.

"I'm ready whenever you are."

He nods a bit before leading his horse out with a nudge of his heels and a few soft clicks of his tongue. As he passes her, he gives a soft tug on Impala's bridle to help guide her forward, so that she falls in step behind him. She does as she's told, clomping forward at an easy speed.

Christine's eyes widen as the horse begins to move. It's somehow much different than riding in a carriage. With each leg moving forward, she can feel the horse's muscles move, and she lifts and dips slightly along with it. She feels like at any moment the jostling will cause her to slide right off and all she can do is grip tight to the reins and hope that won't happen.

She's even afraid to speak, in case it spooks the horse. She probably looks a sight, eyes wide as saucers and gripping the reins up near her chest.

Dean glances back over his shoulder to see if she's still following him, and he can't help but smirk a bit when he sees her. He pulls up on the reins slightly, slowing his own horse so that he falls in step next to her.

"Relax. Trust the horse."

She exhales slowly, eyes darting over to him. She feels quite foolish at her behavior, but she hadn't expected to act this way before getting on.

"I am trying, but I fear I'll fall right off. She's never thrown anyone, has she?"

He shakes his head. "No one who didn't deserve it. Be good to her and she'll be good to you, won't you darlin'?"

The horse gives a bit of a snuffle in response, but keeps ambling at her own leisurely pace.

"All right." She certainly isn't planning on being mean. So she focuses on how the horse moves and makes her own muscles react so that she doesn't feel like each step is about to make her fall off. Eventually her hands lower, holding the reins at a more comfortable angle.

She doesn't look like a confident horsewoman, but she looks less terrified. It's a start.

Starts are good. He stays beside her every step of the way, keeping a nice easy speed as they make their way across the back fields. It's a leisurely ride, but eventually he slowly starts to pick up the speed, just a little.

When he moves faster, she's left with either falling behind or keeping up, so she gently nudges Impala in the side.

"Let's go, please," she says, her voice sounding less than confident. Impala doesn't even seem to notice the nudge, and Christine blows out a frustrated breath. Again she presses her foot to the horse's side. "Come on," she encourages her, and the horse finally walks a little faster, moving to catch up with Dean's horse. Christine can't help but smile proudly. It worked!

He glances back over his shoulder with a smile, watching as she catches up. He knew she would pick it up pretty easily, it was just a matter of giving her the chance to figure it out herself.

"See? Not so bad."

"You were right," she replies, feeling better about the whole thing. The horse listening to her has really put her at ease, and now she doesn't feel like any second she'll be thrown.

"Your farm is beautiful. So peaceful."

He nods as he turns his gaze back to the fields, looking over the expanse of land. "I missed it more than anything during the war. In the middle of the battlefields, the only place I wanted to be was here."

"Oh, Dean," she says, before checking herself for her reaction. She looks down at her lap for a moment, collecting herself. "Did you see many battles?"

"A fair amount," he says with a shrug. "War is war after all. Battles are a part of the equation."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject