A/N: I do not own Supernatural or the characters of Supernatural. All rights go to the CW Network and the amazing Eric Kripke.
I stared absently out the kitchen window whilst my mother was in the garden picking carrots, potatoes, squashes, and other miscellaneous fruits and vegetables. I glanced over to her. She looked so peaceful, but I knew she wasn't. My father had left for war, or rather, was forced to go. We were both worried about his safety.
I turned around to see my brothers reading. Our father had taught them to read shortly before he left. I envied them. They could read. I knew my place, but that didn't change the feelings. I was the eldest, I should be taught to read first, but I was a woman. My purpose was to wed a good man and have children. All I knew how to do was cook, clean, garden, sew, and take care of children.
I was brought out of my thoughts when I heard my mother rushing into the house, "Elizabeth, get to the root cellar!"
"Mother?" I began.
"No time, the army is coming!" there was terror in her eyes and voice.
I knew what this meant. We were required to house at least one of the soldiers, meaning that we had to supply him with food, shelter, alcohol, and the daughters of the household. My mother warned me that I would never be able to find a good husband if she let the solider(s) have me.
I ran to the door, opened it, and ran into a large, burly man with long black hair. He was frightening, to say the least. His eyes were dark blue, but they should have been red. He was evil, it was as clear as the scar that ran down his face.
"Excellent," he cooed before shoving me back into the house, causing me to fall to the floor.
I coward in fear behind my mother, this amused him, "Don't be scared."
"William!" a much gentler male voice called out.
A tall man with short, dark brown hair entered into my line of sight. He looked very fatherly, very kind.
"William, this was not the house I assigned to you." the kind man said, I could tell the he was an officer by his tone.
"You didn't assign me a house." the burly solider replied, he had a look in his eyes that said that he knew he was in trouble.
"Precisely. I haven't found a house for you. Go wait for your orders by the horses." the nicer one ordered. "I'm sorry about this. He has a temper and I try to put him in a house that doesn't have a daughter."
"The Fredrickson's don't have a daughter." my mother said.
"Thank you, ma'am! I am Corporal Winchester, if you have any problems, ask for me." the corporal smiled.
"Who will be staying with us?" I asked, and instantly feeling regret for speaking out of turn.
"My son, Dean, will be staying here with you," he answered, acting as if I had done nothing wrong.
I nodded my head and smiled sweetly. I felt like I could hug him. He had saved me from the monstrous solider. I just hoped his son was as kind as him.
A much younger man walked up to the door. He had short brown hair and gentle, green eyes. I froze in my spot on the floor, he was the most attractive man I had ever seen.
"Father, is the house?" he asked the corporal.
"Yes, Dean this is the, um.. I'm sorry, I don't think I caught any of your names." he responded.
My mother spoke up, "We are the Walter family. My name is Margery, this is my daughter, Elizabeth, an these are my sons, James and Edwin."
"Corporal Winchester!" a deep voice called out from afar.
He sighed and walked to the other man, but not before reminding us to come to him for anything and telling his son to be respectful. An unpleasant silence fell over us. My mother and I weren't allowed to speak, for he had not spoken to us. I averted my gaze to my brother Edwin. Only then did I realize I was still kneeling on the floor. I stood up slowly as Edwin stepped forward to start a conversation.
"So, Dean is it? I am Edwin and I am thirteen years old. This is James, he is ten." he said, motioning towards Edward. He then motioned towards me, "And this is my sister, Elizabeth; she is seventeen."
"I am nineteen." he smiled, looking directly into my eyes.
My stomach churned, he seemed flawless, "He'll never love me," I thought to myself. Regardless, I let my mind wander to the preposterous and endless scenarios. I imagined him courting me, our wedding in the town's chapel, raising our children, and growing old together.
I was brought out of my dreams by my mother's voice, "Are you hungry? Or perhaps thirsty?"
"I am a bit parched." he admitted. "But I really don't want to trouble you."
"It's no trouble at all. I'll get you a glass of water." I answered quietly. "Excuse me."
Bucket in hand, I walked briskly to the village's well. I filled it up about half way and then hurried home. I sat the bucket on the table and grabbed a cup.
"Here you are," I said while handing it to him.
"Thank you, ma'am." he smiled kindly.
His words flattered my and stomach twisted into knots. I could feel my face going red. I excused myself again to get some fresh air and slap cold water over my face. When I came back inside, my mother was cooking her delicious potato stew. I went over to join her, but she told me to entertain the house guest. I began to wonder how I would entertain him, but then I saw him sitting on the floor, reading to my brothers. I tiptoed over, in order to avoid disrupting him, and sat behind James.
Dean was a wonderful reader, he seemed exceptionally smart. When the story was over, my brothers left me alone with Dean.
"Can you read?" he asked me.
"No, sir. But you can read very well." I replied politely.
"Thank you. My dad taught me when I was about Edwin's age. Would you like me to teach you?" he asked.
I was suddenly taken aback. Me? Learn to read? It was preposterous!
"I wouldn't want to trouble you. Besides, I don't think I am aloud to learn how." I replied shyly.
"Nonsense, it's no trouble! How about this be our little secret?" He whispered the last part.
"Oh, thank you. You are too kind." I blushed.
"SUPPER!" my mother called.