Chapter 11- Nothing to be done

It was a year to the day. It was a year to the day since he had come to the farm.

So far, it had been a bright and sunny day, but grey clouds were lowly creeping their way forward. This was good, for there had been little rain this year, even in winter. Jamie watched the clouds slowly drifting across the blue canvas of a sky. He was sitting on the high branches of the courtyard tree, mindlessly staring at the things around him. He was thinking. Grandpére had lessened the work load for him this day; thankfully, for he doubted he would have been able to concentrate his chores.

Precious little Emilie had noticed his sad mood, but clearly did not understand it. She had flittered around him for the better part of the morning, cracking jokes in her still faulty English and trying to cheer him up. He was thankful for her lovely childishness, but it did not really work to lighten his mood. In the end, the little girl had been defeated and simply told him that sitting in the tree always made her feel better when she felt sad before leaving him be.

The tree, although initially hard to scale, had lightened his mood somewhat. He could see everything from the tall branches of this magnificent plant. But, no matter how hard he tried, the only thing he could think about was the Cavalry charge one year ago.

It was, believe it or not, Marie who snapped him out of it.

"Jamie!" She called up to him the ground, her voice easily grabbing his attention. He looked down to her.

She was in her pale pink shirt and red-brown skirt. Little, wispy bit of her chocolate covered hair fell onto her pale face, and she had a large kitchen pot in her hand. She was smiling softly up at him, the sort of smile that told him that she understood. It was odd, but it managed to tempt a small smile from him somehow. She lifted the pot up as high as she could (which was not very high, for the pot was heavy).

"Come down, s'il vous plait." Come down, please. She was being rather polite, as he found she usually was now days. So he carefully climbed down the big tree. He jumped down, landing on the ground next to her.

She toothlessly, kindly smiled up at him (he was taller than her, after all) for a long (almost too long, in a way) moment before turning to the fields and walking out towards the small hill. He followed her, guessing that was what she wanted of him. They walked their way through the fields of re-growing produce and over the little hill, arriving at the pond. Marie, on the way there, had plucked two thick sticks from the ground, and now set the pot on the pond's shore.

She handed him one of the sticks before crouching down and, believe it or not, began to dig in the mud beneath them.

Jamie just stood there, staring down at the woman. He was quite shocked, for playing in the mud did not seem something that Marie would be into. He continued to look at her in confusion as she dug through the mud, and she continued until she hit something in the dirt. She pulled it out, a small object caked in mud, and washed it in the clean water of the pond. Doing this revealed a brown, lumpy root of some sort, which was dropped into the pot with a dull plonk.

She looked up to him before nodding her head a t the ground. Now Jamie understood. He bent down and began working besides Marie to slowly fill the pot with the roots. It took a small while for him to ask the question he wanted to know.

"Marie." He asked quietly for her attention, which she politely gave him. "What are we doing?"

She stopped digging to hand him her attention to him fully, leaning back on the balls of her feet. She wiped her wet hands (she had just washed her hands in the pond water) on her skirt before answering him. "Preparing dinner."

"What are we making?" Jamie asked. What were these roots even? He had never seen roots such as these, or at least he didn't think he did. He certainly had not eaten them. She gave a single laugh, which shocked him.

"You mean what I will be making." Her accented voice, just like her eyes, was laced with humour. Her eyebrows were raised and a small smile graced her lips. "I do not zink you can even toast pain!" I do not even think you can even toast bread.

It was true, even though he did not want it to be. He had never been taught to cook. He was no woman, after all. He gave a small, short laugh before spoke again. "Very well, Miss Marie. What will you be cooking?"

"Délicieuse soupe." Delicious soup. With that, she leaned onto her knees once more before beginning to dig around in the dirt again. They chatted about small things for quite some time.

"Zat should be enough." She said at last. They had been digging through the mud for quite some time, yet the pot was only filled halfway. Marie seemed to be happy with this, though. She grabbed the pot and stood as quickly as she could (which was hard with the heavy pot). She walked back towards the farm, and Jamie scrambled to follow her. This turned out to be easy as she stopped on the hill.

She had turned to look out over the lake, staring into the dense trees of the woods. Jamie came to stand beside her, looking at her in confusion before also looking at the trees. He didn't know what she was looking at now. He searched the trees, looking at the green leaves and rough trunks.

Marie sighed softly and sat down primly on her knees, pot set aside. Jamie looked down at her, sitting like the women of London, except on the ground. He joined her on the dirt (much less gracefully than his female associate) and looked to the trees once more. His eyes darted over everything, taking in the landscape. What was he looking for? He glanced over to Marie. Although she was sitting, as she always did, correctly and straight, she looked relaxed and calmed. Jamie looked at the woods again, this time taking a breath and trying to look at them differently.

This time he saw the flowers. The thistles. The little, colourful birds. A little brown hare hopped out for a moment, before bouncing back into the safety of the thick trees. It seemed slightly unlike Marie to just sit and look at the scenery. She was usually the sort of person to power on and gets things done. Yet she had slowly started to peel away, revealing the things she liked to do.

It was Jamie who lay back first. It was performed with a graceless flop backwards, causing Marie to look at him with eyebrows raised in shock. Jamie gave her a bit if a sheepish grin, for he was sorry that he had interrupted her forest watching. She looked down at him a moment longer before lying beside him. She did this by awkwardly pulling her legs from underneath her and proceeding to lay back in a stiff manner. Once she was flat, she hesitantly folded her hands on her waist, before moving them around to get comfortable. It took a small while, but she seemed to settle.

They both lay there on the grass, now looking up at the pale blue sky rather that the woods across the pond. The grey clouds were beginning to close in on them changing shapes and wanning out into small, fluffy puffs before reforming. The long grasses and thistles swayed around them, tickling their skin. There was little swoosh plop sounds of the water lapping at the mud, the water rippling slightly as the wind blew.

One of Marie's slender hands rested on her abdomen, while her other arm was strewn across the grass, bent and with her hand slightly above her head. Jamie was in much the same position beside her (he looked comfortable, so she had decided to copy him).They were quite relaxed, laying there on the soft grass, breathing the scents of the water and earth. They both felt calmer than they had in quite some time. They didn't speak. Not a word was said. They just lay there, staring upwards.

Marie's slow breathing stilled when she felt Jamie's hand lightly brush against her fingers, allowing her to fee the slightly rough skin of his hand. Jamie himself felt her stiffen. He didn't continue to move his hand over, but he did not move it away either.

Marie felt conflicted about this new, sudden development. Jamie had held her hand once or twice before, but that had been to comfort or help her. She did not need either of these at the moment. This was different. This seemed to be because he wanted to. She wanted to hold his hand too she realised.

This was, in a way, rather pathetic when she thought about it. It was the first time someone outside her family had held their hand simply because they wanted to. She was almost twenty-six now, old when it came to marriage standards, yet she had never received so much as a hug in a romantic manner. All of this, when her younger sister had received a few pecks on her cheek during her handful of years. Perhaps it was because Marie was a bit… touchy around affections. They made her feel small.

She had never felt this weak. This vulnerable. Young men in town had tried to grab her attention, calling out complements to her or whistling. But she had always ignored them, sometimes even pulling a face or throwing an offence at them. However, that had been before the war. She was older now (even if just a tad), perhaps she had changed. But she hadn't changed in other ways. If anything, she was more grumpy and offensive than she had been before this whole war mess had begun.

She felt Jamie's little finger entwine with her own. Her breath stayed jammed in her throat, which caused her to sound like she was dying when she managed to grab a gulp of air. He entangled his ring finger with hers, and then the next finger. Then the next. Then they were holding hands. She slowly let out her breath. She was almost afraid to look to the left and see the first person who had held her hand in an even slightly romantic manner.

But she did look. She turned her head slowly, slight fear still clinging to her heart (She hated fear. It was the worst of all emotions). When she did finally shift her head enough to see the man beside her, she was greeted by the swirling cool colours of his eyes. Her breath hitched in her throat again. They stared at each other, gaze unwavering.

Perhaps it was human nature. The gravity and pressure of the moment. But it happened.

They slowly moved towards each other. Marie could now suddenly breathe, and she was almost gasping. She tried to keep it quiet. She succeeded mostly, but every few breaths were just a little too loud. Jamie seemed to ignore it and continued to lean in. And they kissed

It wasn't deep or passionate, no tongues or teeth involved. But it did drag out, not in the bad way mind you. It was nice. She was enjoying it. He was enjoying it. They both were enjoying it.

But all good things come to an end.

It was just a soft, distant rumble to begin with. They didn't notice it at first, but then it got louder. They broke apart, listening closely. The rumble grew louder and louder. Trucks. They lay there, silent, waiting. Then another sound.

A scream.

Marie sat up-right so fast it caused her to get a head rush. Jamie went to sit up too, but Marie pushed him back down as gently as she could. She spoke through her teeth in attempt to keep her voice at a whisper. "Stay here."

She crouched and slowly walked up the hill, looking over the peak to her farm. There were soldiers. Soldiers everywhere, crowding around the buildings and fields. A small group of men were pulling Emilie off of Joey's back, while Grandpére waddled out of the house and up the hill as fast as he could. Marie felt protective, wanting to dash forward and care for her sister, but she remembered that the man by the pond needed more help. He was in danger.

She slid down the small hill back towards the pond. Jamie wore concern and fear on his face that just about broke her heart (which said a lot).

Jamie had quite an idea as to what was going on. He could tell by the look on Marie's face. Rather than walking or running down the hill, she slid on the slick grass down the hill towards him. This must have been something big, for Marie avoided getting her clothes dirty (that was more than what could be said for little Emilie).

She stood halfway through her descent and ran to him. Her eyes were wild and wide and her hair flapped around her face. She skidded to a halt just before him and began to shove him harshly towards the woods he had run to on Emilie's birthday, causing him to stumble.

Jamie knew what was going on, but he needed confirmation. He turned around and grabbed at Marie's wrist to still her. She stopped for a moment, letting him look at her properly. Her eyes were filled with fear, fear he had seen only a few times before. He knew they were back when one word left her mouth. "Run."

And he did. He gave her hand a quick squeeze before turning and running. Sadly, he didn't get very far.

*00*

Marie also ran, but in the opposite direction. The pot of roots were forgotten on the ground as she raced over the hill. She bolted down the side of the hill just as Emilie was fully pulled from Joey's back.

When Marie finally reached her family, Grandpére was holding a sobbing Emilie close to his chest. Joey was being marched off while his head swung around wildly. Marie stood by her relatives, hand resting on Emilie's back to comfort her.

But the little girl broke free, running to the big bay she had for a long time thought of as her own horse. Grandpére grabbed Marie's hand when she tried to run after her little sister and could do nothing other than listen to Grandpére's pleas that little Emilie not be hurt.

The fat man that had visited the farm the two previous raids (that was most certainly the best way to describe their visits) lowly walked to them, taking a long drag from his cigar as he watched the small girl get shoved into her Grandfather's arms. Marie quickly grabbed hold of her sister's arm, making sure she did not do something that dangerous again.

"You don't need them." Emilie was pleading with the large solider, but Marie knew it was useless. Topthorn and, most painfully, Maybell were led out of the barn to Marie's horror, but she felt a certain sort of pride when her little white horse put up a fight. Emilie continued to plea fruitlessly with the man. "There is so many others!"

"Please." It was Grandfather talking now, hoping to save his tender little granddaughter from the pain of losing her loved companions. "Take the bigger one and leave the smaller ones. You're breaking my granddaughter's heart."

Marie felt a certain amount of defence then. Taking the large black horse might be a way to keep Maybell and Joey, but Topthorn was Jamie's horse, the horse that the soldier loved so much. Luckily, in an angry and bitter sort of way, she did not have to fret about that for all too long.

"The war is taking everything." The fat man responded, looking at the sobbing little girl in the old man's arms. He walked a few steps closer, and Maire had the urge to push him away from her family. Since the death of her parents and brother, she had in a way become the family's protector. "From everyone."

With that the soldier started to walk away, but Grandfather was not letting him go that easily. He called out after the overweight man. "What will happen to them?"

"They will pull artillery until they die, or until the war is over." He didn't look back, not even when Emilie began to make coughing sounds as she struggled again against her Grandfather's hold. Marie loved her sister, and the little girl was usually rather intelligent. But at the current time, she was being slightly foolish. Could she not see nothing could be done?

"It will never be over!" Grandfather wanted to have the final say. Although he only spoke that handful of words, their meaning was clear: As long as there are people like you, there will always be war.

"You have your answer then." The fat man called back, still not turning to look at them. Marie agreed with her Grandfather fully then. With men like him, the war would never end.

Emilie was carefully spun around and crushing into Grandfather's chest. She continued to cry.

Marie, although her eyes remained dry, was grieving in her own way. She wished to reach out and stroke her small horse's pale coat one last time, to lean her forehead against her own and stroke up her dainty little ears. But instead, Maybell was being dragged away. She was putting up a fight, but it was fruitless. There was no hope.

Just when Marie thought that the soldiers and her horses were finally almost over the hill (she could not bear to see something be taken away from her) there was a commotion off to the side. Everyone around them, including Marie herself, looked to the ruckus.

Jamie was there with three soldiers hanging off of him. His head was shoved harshly down to stare at the ground as German was shouted at the fat man by one of the soldiers. Jamie's eyes slowly travelled back up, this time landing on Marie.

Marie could see the fear in his eyes. She was afraid too. But she didn't want the soldiers to see the fear. That would be dangerous. So she turned her head to her family, leaving her to see the English man from only the corner of her eye.

He was shoved forward, right in front of the plump German man. The man looked Jamie over, before barking an order to the men that were holding onto Jamie (even from this distance, Marie could tell that they had latched on much too tightly). Then he was shoved down towards an oncoming truck.

Marie was crying now. She hoped the soldiers simply saw it as her grieving for the loss of her horses. They were not asking questions about this English man this time, of which Marie was grateful. The two times they had shown up before, they would not stop interrogating her. Questions were always asked endlessly. But now they seemed in a hurry to leave.

She lost sight of Jamie. He disappeared in a blur of trucks, horses and soldiers. She searched around as franticly but, she hoped, subtly. She wanted to see him again. For she knew she could not do anything to help him. She was not foolish; she knew nothing could be done.

It would be dangerous to reveal herself as his protector, to her and her family. She did not dream of it. So, as the convoy swiftly left, she silently looked for that one man she knew. Emilie was just about bawling now.

Then she saw him. There was a fresh cut dug into his cheek, which had blood steadily oozing out. There were many soldiers in the back of the truck, one of the last in the line, with him, looking at him in a menacing manner.

He caught her eye and stared. She saw the fear there once again. She stared right back at him as the trucks disappeared over the hill. Marie lost herself then, gathering her skirt and running as fast as she could manage up the hill.

She caught a glimpse of him again, much to her momentary joy, in the back of the truck as it was just about to disappear into the trees. It was the briefest of looks, and then he was gone again, permanently this time.

Marie's knees trembled. She could feel they were going to give way. And they did. She fell onto her weak knees and cried. She looked to the sky, at the grey clouds that had quickly but quietly snuck themselves into the sky. She couldn't help the tears, couldn't help the way her mouth twisted in anguish, just as she could not help Jamie.

Nothing could be done.

*00*

Ta Da!

One of you dears (not gonna name names, but you know who you are. Then again, looking at the reviews would just give it away anyway…) finally told me how your day was! YAY! No, it's not just a catchphrase (I don't have a catchphrase. At least, I don't think I do…), and I thought you were all ignoring me!

The kiss scene is bad because I am bad at that stuff. Which is silly, on account of the story's genre…

Have been re-watching all of the 'Llamas in hats'.