A whole Dickon chapter.
Enjoy.
...
Mary had returned and he couldn't wait to see her.
He wasn't even trying to hide it either. Martha and his mother had noticed that something was different about him. Dickon had a light about him that they'd never seen before. He told him it was just because he was away from the war.
They didn't believe him.
Honestly, he didn't care too much. The whole world should know: Dickon was mad for Mary. Absolutely bonkers. These last few days without her had been dull. The night terrors had come back again.
Dickon couldn't ever fall asleep after the terrors. He was always back in the trenches, watching his men fall. Sometimes, he dreamed of times when he killed men. Where in one instant he took not only a man's life, but that man's future as well.
He tried to blink away the memories but they never left.
Eventually, his mind would drift to Mary. It was so peculiar finally being more than a friend to her. He'd loved her for so long. So long, in fact, that he didn't even know he was in it until he was right in the middle of it.
It was different when they were children. He always knew there was something special about her from the moment he met her. As they grew up, his feelings did as well.
Of course he wanted her, he wouldn't be a man if he said that he didn't. He wanted her so badly at times that he thought he may die. But it wasn't only that. Mary was a friend. A wonderful, odd, amazing person.
He'd never felt this way before. It was all terrifying and wonderful.
And he was going to see her again. It sent a thrill through his spine.
"Dickon!" Martha rapped loudly on his door, pulling him out of his thoughts. "There's someone at the door for thee!"
He sat up sharp as a nail and glanced at his reflection. His curls looked wild.
Eagerly, Dickon rushed out of his room and to the front door where he saw Mary and Colin standing.
He wanted nothing more than to run to her and sweep her into his arms. Alas, he had to contain it.
"Dickon," Mary spoke in her sweet, clear voice. "How wonderful to see you."
Mary'd had more training in hiding her feelings than Dickon.
Colin smiled, "Good to see you, mate."
"Likewise," Dickon nodded, catching Mary's eye. He could always see her true feelings behind those bright hazel eyes. "How was the sea?"
"Marvelous," Mary grinned at him.
Martha clasped her hands together, "We'll, why don't you three go an' catch up? There's a speaker in the village today, I hear."
"What type of speaker?" Colin asked, brushing his head.
Martha shrugged, "I'm not sure. But if it's one of those political ones, tha'd best stay away."
Dickon rolled his eyes, walking to join his friends, "Martha doesn't like progressive ideas."
Martha squinted, "I don't want thee caught up in any riots. Ah, well. Have fun. Goodbye!"
The three headed out the door and onto the dirt road. When Colin wasn't paying attention, Mary grabbed Dickon's hand, squeezing it tightly and letting go.
Colin stepped in between them, "Well, Mary saw a friend at the beach."
"Hush," she hissed, playfully pushing him.
Dickon raised an eyebrow, "Oh?"
She met his eyes, apologizing with them. "Just some lad I go to school with. He was there with his family. And his fiancé."
Dickon tried to hide his small smile of relief, "That's nice. Things have been rather boring around here."
"This speaker sounds interesting," Colin said, quickening his pace as the village came into view. "I've never been in a riot."
"You'll need to get used to riots if you're going to war," Mary's voice was colder than ice.
Colin tried to grin, "Are you still harping on that? I'm going, Mary. It's decided. Even father isn't as cross as you are."
Mary crossed her arms over her light green frock, "Uncle Archie is just pretending to be okay with it for your sake. War is horrible, Colin. It's terrible."
"Dickon's in the war! He doesn't seem too bad, does he?" Colin stomped like a child.
Dickon cleared his throat, "It's...all right."
Mary sighed, rolling her eyes and muttering something under her breath. They didn't have to stay in silence long, however, because the speaker's voice started booming over then as well as the crowd's responses.
"Let's go see!" Mary exclaimed, taking the boys' hands and darting into the throng.
The man on the podium was young and thin, wearing a light grey suit.
He spoke in a loud, booming voice, "Women should be allowed their say in the elections! Why not? They've been working during the war-"
"AND MEN WILL WORK WHEN THE WAR IS OVER!" A drunken man yelled. He was greeted with cheers.
Dickon could see Mary turning red, flushed full of anger. Kindly, he placed a hand on her shoulder.
"The government is doing nothing to help the people," The man continued and he was greeted with yells of disapproval. "They haven't helped the people!"
Someone yelled something back but Dikon didn't catch the words.
Colin leaned over and said something in his ear but he couldn't hear that either. Suddenly, the crowd had gotten a lot louder, and people were pushing past them. It sounded like he heard a scream. It was a woman, but it wasn't Mary. Mary looked at him, eyes full of fear.
"What's happened?" He asked her but she couldn't hear. Three men in the middle of the crowd had begun a row and smaller ones had broken up on the sides. Mary pulled him along as she started to run, but she tripped and fell, her head hitting a rock on the ground.
And in the next second there was red pooling around her.
So fast. This was happening so fast. How had this even begun? It didn't feel real.
Without another thought, he picked her up and held her in his arms. There was a gash on her cheek that was bleeding quickly but there seemed to be no other cuts. He pressed his hand against her face to stop the bleeding.
Dickon began running, not really sure where he was going. He knew he needed to get away but the where he did not know.
Suddenly, Colin was at his side, a bruise around his eye.
"Take her to Misselthwaite," he said and Dickon obliged.
Mary's blood was seeping through his fingers but he didn't even care. He couldn't even feel it.
Maybe this was a dream.
It felt like on of his night terrors.
...
When she woke up again she was confused. Of course the doctor had given her medication and cleaned the wound but it was still there. Mary would have to deal with that.
The look her uncle had when Dickon had brought her into the house was haunting. Mary was a daughter to him. Dickon knew he was horrified to see her hurt.
"You're in our debt, Dickon," he'd said once the doctor had arrived. "If there's anything I can do for you, just day the word."
Dickon had only nodded, not really paying attention. He just wanted Mary to wake up again and be okay.
The scar was only a thin one, trailing her right cheek and down near her lip.
It turned out that the fights had hurt many people and one man was killed. Stupid fights for stupid reasons.
Like the war, he thought but instantly regretted it. The was didn't have stupid reasons it just had stupid people running it.
"Dickon," Mary mumbled to herself as she tossed in her bed. "Dickon, are you here?"
"Yes," he said, stepping closer to her bed. Desperately, he hoped that the medicine wouldn't make her lose all her inhibitions. They couldn't risk her saying anything with Colin and Craven in the room.
Mary reached a hand to his head, brushing his hair.
He pretended to be unmoved by this in hopes that no one would find it odd.
She smiled, "Thank you for saving me."
Dickon simpered, "Wasn't really saving. More like carrying."
She grinned sleepily, closing her eyes, "No, you saved me, Dickon dear. You saved me."
...
Master Craven had insisted he stay for dinner, and when the storms started he insisted he stay the night. So Dickon went to his usual room and prepared for sleep.
There was a knock at the door.
"Come in," Dickon said, sitting on his bed.
Mary stepped in, a red rode wrapped around herself. Her long hair was loose, hanging across her shoulders and down her back. Beautiful.
She smiled, the small scar poking out a bit, "I didn't say anything terribly foolish when I had so much medicine, did I?"
Dickon laughed and she came further into the room, shutting the door behind herself, "No, nothing bad at all." He reassured her. Mary floated over next to him, hesitating before sitting with him. He felt that heat build up inside and he ha to district his thoughts from turning indecent.
Mary moved a bit closer, "I missed you while I was away. It's nice to see you again."
He moved a bit closer as well, "Nice to see thee too."
"Thank you for saving me today," Mary said, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair again.
Dickon felt the heat growing hotter, "No problem."
"I missed you so much," Mary told him, pulling his head closer to hers. He didn't resist.
Then they were kissing. Dickon had missed the kissing. He'd missed the feeling of her being pressed up against him. Her small hands strong against his back. The way he felt energy pouring through him.
Mary pulled away, giggling a bit. Dickon ran a hand through her hair, cupping her cheek, "What?" He inquired.
She leaned into his palm, "I was just thinking about the trip. Colin couldn't swim a lick. All these years and he never learned to swim. It was quite pitiful." Her smile soon faded, her face turning sour, "Oh, Dickon, he's not going to make it, is he?"
Dickon pulled his hand back, retracting it to his side, "I don't know, Mary. Bein' in the forces definitely strengthens thee up. But it's mostly luck. He seems a pretty lucky lad."
She nodded, but her expression remained vacant, "I suppose..." Her gaze drifted to the window, to the dark night sky. Dickon was tempted to place a hand on her but he wasn't sure if he was welcome. "It makes me sick. It makes me sick that you have to go and he chooses to go." Her fingers combed through her hair, over the top and back. "And I'm stuck here feeling so useless. I want to do something. I want to help."
"It's help just knowin' thee is here," Dickon placed a hand on her back. "Knowin' I've something to come back to."
Mary peered over her shoulder, smiling kindly at him. "You come back. I'll be here." The rain smacked the window, the storm brewing loudly. "I guess you'll need your rest."
He shrugged, "Not really. I can't ever sleep. Night terrors."
Mary's face fell, but her look wasn't one of pity. It was something different, "I'll stay here if you like. We can stay up and talk."
"What if someone catches us? That'll be a scandal for thee."
She rolled her eyes, taking her hand in his, "Bugger scandal. And no one will find us."
Dickon raised his eyebrows, challenging her, "Well, what if we get tired?"
She smiled mischievously, "Then we lay down and sleep."
He tutted, "Now that would definitely be a scandal."
Laughing, Mary leaned in and kissed him.