A/N: It's not on the playlist (yet) but I recommend listening to "By Night" by Sophie Hutchings for this first part. (Also, this first 'article' by Emily Yellin is real)
There is the heat of Love, the pulsing rush of
Longing, the lover's whisper, irresistible —
magic to make the sanest man go mad.
– Homer, The Iliad
Excerpt from article 'Lining Up for Wartime Weddings', in the New York Times, by Emily Yellin (2 February 2017):
In 1942 alone, 1.8 million weddings took place, up 83 percent from 10 years before. And two-thirds of those brides were marrying men newly enlisted in the military.
It took the pastor and his wife a few moments to get used to the fact that Alice was a woman, and then several more to understand what she and Steve were asking. "Now?" they kept repeating, bewildered. Alice and Steve stood before them, hand in hand, trying to rationally explain through their matching grins.
When the pastor and his wife finally understood, their eyes lit up.
After very little fuss (and after a few vows of secrecy, which from their grave expressions Alice believed wholeheartedly would go with the pastor and his wife to their graves), Alice and Steve found themselves standing together before the church altar once more.
They hadn't prepared. Alice had yanked off her cap and cleaned the ash and dried blood off her face, and Steve had removed his cowl and gloves, but they still looked just as dirty and battleworn as when they'd arrived. But each of their faces was lit up by a luminant, irrepressible smile.
This wasn't how either of them had imagined it.
Bucky and Tom should be here, Alice had whispered in that first excitable rush of words behind the church.
I oughta at least ask you first, Steve had added.
We haven't got any rings.
We're in the middle of a mission.
We'd have to be sure these people will be able to keep the secret.
It's a crazy idea.
Bucky might actually kill us.
We have to leave in five hours.
And yet here Alice found herself, grinning from ear to ear and practically bouncing on the balls of her feet as the pastor, wearing a robe over his pajamas, gave an introductory prayer in French. His wife Nanette sat at the front pew, also beaming from ear to ear. The Jewish family were still out saying their goodbyes, none the wiser.
Several candles cast a soft glow through the small church, and the pastor's low voice made the air sonorous, almost hypnotic.
Alice and Steve couldn't look away from each other. As the priest spoke, Alice watched the glee and nervous excitement sparking in Steve's eyes temper into something more solemn, more enduring. It turned Alice's giddy grin into a soft, cheek-hurting smile. Steve reached his hands out and she took them, squeezing probably tighter than was necessary.
She realized she'd forgotten to listen to the pastor when she jumped at the sound of her voice.
"... Alice Hedwig Moser," the pastor continued, in slow French so they could both understand him. "Will you have this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?" Alice swallowed, alarmed at the sudden feeling of tears pricking at her eyes. "Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health" - Steve smiled at that and Alice had to stifle a laugh. She shot him a mock-serious look: hush, these are my wedding vows - "and, forsaking all others, be faithful unto him as long as you both shall live?"
"I will," Alice breathed in English, unable to repress her smile even if she'd cared to try. Steve's fingers tightened on hers, and she saw the rising gleam of tears in his eyes.
"Steven Grant Rogers," the pastor went on, and Steve took a deep breath. "Will you have this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?" Steve nodded almost unconsciously, and Alice had to stifle another laugh. "Will you love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, and, forsaking all others, be faithful unto her as long as you both shall live?"
Steve's eyes gleamed again as he drew in another breath and said croakily: "I will."
Alice's legs felt like jelly. She kept on holding on to Steve's hands as if she'd collapse or cease to exist without that touch.
The pastor looked over to his wife, but Steve and Alice didn't take their eyes off each other. "And will you witnessing do all in your power to uphold these persons in their marriage?"
"I will," smiled Nanette.
The pastor cleared his throat. "And as we don't, er - have any rings… it's not required, legally, so…" he drew his shoulders straight. "Now that Alice Moser and Steven Rogers have given themselves to each other by solemn vows, by the power unto me, with great pleasure," he smiled. "I pronounce you man and wife."
Alice and Steve stared at each other, gripping hands, beaming.
The pastor cleared his throat again. "You may kiss now, if you wish."
Steve let go of Alice's hands to cup her face, his eyes gleaming and a little dazzled, before Alice leaned up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. Her heart felt as if it had burst open and sent molten gold cascading through her as she kissed Steve - her husband. She threw her arms around his neck and he pulled her closer in response, one hand at the small of her back now as he tilted her back a little, making her chest bubble with laughter.
They broke apart beaming, stared at each other, then surged together in another kiss, making the pastor laugh. He stepped around them carefully and went to join his wife at the front pew. They held hands.
After an eternity Steve pulled away again, both hands cupping Alice's face, and stared into her eyes. "I love you, Alice. No matter where you are, or where I am, I love you. I always will."
Alice nodded and realized she was crying now; the tears dripped onto her still-smiling lips. "In sickness and in health," she said, and Steve picked her up, his arms a band around her middle and her arms around his neck, gripping each other as if making up for all the years and distance put between them.
As long as you both shall live, Alice thought, then banished the words. She carded her fingers through Steve's hair as he pressed his face into her neck, and closed her eyes. Because if she didn't live past tonight, she thought, this was enough.
The pastor and his wife offered their bed so that Alice and Steve could sleep a few hours before they had to leave again, but they turned down the offer. We'll get out of your way, Steve said, his hand in Alice's. So they took a canvas roll and a few tartan blankets and walked out into the quiet forest, in the warm night air. They found a clearing where they could see the stars.
Under the stars they came together as man and wife, as Alice had secretly hoped for since she was a brittle and angular teenager. She'd always known it would be like this: a little shy at first, sweet, but fuelled by the passion that had always burned in both of them.
Some time later as they lay together on the canvas under the stars, murmuring to each other, Steve said: "We'll do this again, properly, after the war. I dunno if that was really legal."
Lying bundled up under the blankets with her head on Steve's outstretched arm, Alice smiled. "I think it probably was. We signed the certificates and all." They were folded up in Steve's jacket, which lay at the other end of the canvas.
Steve's fingers curled through Alice's pale hair. "But we'll still do it again properly. With Buck, and Tom, and… you know, I should really ask Tom for your-"
"There is only one person on this earth who can give away my hand in marriage, Steve Rogers, as sweet as that thought is," Alice said with an arched eyebrow. He smiled, and she suspected that he'd said it just to get a rise out of her. She allowed herself to admire the way his smile played across his face. Without the cowl and the rest of the uniform he looked more similar to the skinny asthmatic she'd known in Brooklyn.
"Tom's going to be my best man," she said decisively.
"Does that mean he and Bucky will have to dance together at the wedding reception?" Steve said contemplatively.
"Oh, absolutely." She laughed at the thought of it. "Can you imagine? They'd be terrible."
"They'd upstage us for sure."
Alice smiled, imagining it all, and rested her palm on Steve's chest. "And I'll take your last name when I can do so without, you know, giving a few things away, but I'm keeping Moser as my stage name."
Steve beamed. "Whatever you want."
Alice let out a contented sigh. She knew this ought to feel strange - lying on a canvas in the middle of the forest, wearing practically nothing, after everything that the day had entailed, but this felt more normal than anything else she'd done these last four years. Her pain had faded, her excited adrenaline had eased, and she just felt warm, and safe.
She tapped Steve's chest lightly to get his attention again, only to find that he'd been watching her anyway. "I want to do it properly, Steve. But I think… I think tonight, we did it right."
A smile stole across his face, and the canvas rustled as he shifted to kiss her once again. His arms curled around her, sending heat washing through her body, and for a few long moments they didn't speak.
But then, abruptly, Steve rolled away from her and up onto his knees, the blanket tangled around his waist and a gleam in his eyes. "But I didn't do it properly!" he exclaimed. He shifted until he was kneeling on one knee. Alice propped herself on one elbow.
"Alice Moser," Steve said with emphasis, his hair skewed. "Will you…" his lips quirked. "Continue to be my wife?"
Alice gasped dramatically and covered her face with her hands. "I will!"
Steve dropped down, arms bracketing her, and Alice laughed as he peppered her face with kisses. She tugged on the ends of his hair and he slowed, brought his lips to hers.
"My wife," he murmured against her mouth. His face was so close that she could see nothing but his eyes, searching hers.
"My husband," she whispered back. They looked into each other's eyes a few more moments, caught halfway between laughter and awe. Steve closed his eyes first, and Alice pressed up to kiss him.
When she drew away a few moments later, Steve dropped down beside her again.
"Do you think our parents knew?" she whispered.
"What do you mean?"
"Do you think they knew what we'd be, one day? Sometimes… I don't know, sometimes mom and Matthias got this look in their eye when I mentioned your name, like they knew a secret that I didn't. I wonder if they knew."
Steve looked thoughtful. "Maybe they did. I never would've noticed, since even with Bucky telling me every damn day it took me a while to figure out how I felt. I think maybe my mom knew. I told you what she said to me once, right? Told me to keep you close."
Alice smiled. "I remember. You told me she said that after that time you got rheumatic fever. It was the first time I'd seen her outside of church - I gave her that tea for you."
"I kept a tin of that tea at my place in Brooklyn right up until I shipped out." Smiling, Steve kissed her hair and curled one arm over her, scooping her closer.
Alice smiled back, dug her toes deeper into the blanket to warm them up, and then eyed Steve speculatively. "You like being with me like this, don't you?" She made an expansive gesture at Steve's body to illustrate her point. Alice was curled into him and he'd wrapped around her like a blanket.
"I like being with you," Steve confirmed.
"You know what I mean," she said with a glint in her eye. She ran a hand over the thick bulk of his arm, so strange from what she was used to. She had to admit, seeing him properly shirtless tonight had stuck her words in her throat for a few moments. "You like this."
Steve ducked his head. "I… it's…"
"I'm not making fun," she murmured. She pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I can just tell."
His eyes flicked back to hers. "I'm stronger now. When I did anything physical before I'd end up breathless with my heart racing in about five minutes," he said pointedly. "The first time we kissed, I thought I would have a heart attack."
Alice smiled. "I'd be lying if I said that thought hadn't crossed my mind at the time."
He rolled his eyes, then softened. "I like that I can make it better for you. It, uh… it was…?"
She smiled again and kissed him. "No complaints here."
He pulled back a little so he could look her in the eye. "What about you? Do you prefer me like this?"
Alice cocked her head. Steve's tone was light, but she saw a weight in his eyes. His body had changed in the blink of an eye not too long ago and he was still coming to terms with it. "I'm glad I can finally be with you, no matter what you look like," she eventually said. She kissed his forehead, making him close his eyes, then his chest, over where his heart beat. "You haven't changed under the surface. I've wanted you, Steve Rogers, for a long time."
She pulled back, but she could see a furrow in Steve's brow. She'd said something wrong. "What?"
He swallowed. "You… don't like this. The…" he gestured to himself.
Alice didn't sigh, because that would be hurtful, but she did sit up so she could look him properly in the eyes. "I didn't say that," she said gently. "It's different. I…" her cheeks colored. "I've been thinking about this a long time, and in my head it was the smaller you, obviously, so I…" she swallowed again, trying to avoid Steve's eyes because they were going round. "It's just taken me a little while to, you know, adjust the fantasies." She closed her eyes at that, wincing over the last word. No one ever made her trip over her own tongue like Steve did.
There was a long silence. Then Steve said: "Fantasies?" And Alice's eyes snapped open because that was not the unsure, tentative voice he'd used earlier. He sounded almost smug. Sure enough his face was smug too, though still a little round-eyed.
Alice smacked him. "Alright, settle down. Don't want you getting a big head along with the rest of you."
"I sure don't, that wouldn't be accurate to the fantasies." She scowled further but Steve was only getting closer, his arm creeping around her back and his face growing closer. "How long exactly…?"
His breath brushed her neck and Alice's scowl faded. "Oh, don't - it's embarrassing!"
"I'll confess mine then: I've been thinking about you since we were thirteen."
"Thirteen!" she yelped, mostly because he'd pressed his lips to her neck, but then she relaxed into the sensation. "Yes, that sounds about right." After a few moments, she stroked her hand up the back of his neck. "Why did we wait so long?"
"This would've been more difficult when I was five foot four and doubled over from asthma," Steve noted as he scooped his arm around Alice's waist, lifted her and turned her onto her back. Alice never thought she'd like being manhandled, but she liked it from Steve. Because she knew that with him it wasn't about control, or being stronger than her, or being more powerful.
"More difficult maybe," Alice said. "I would've made it work."
"Oh?"
"I had extensive time to think about this."
"Don't let me prevent you from demonstrating - oh."
When Alice finally succumbed to her exhaustion and slipped asleep for an hour or two she knew, logically, that the rest of the world would spin on unaffected. Hell, right as she closed her eyes she knew there were Maquisards preparing for a distraction in the forest somewhere in a few hours. But for her, the world had shifted on its axis. She didn't know if anything would ever be the same.
~ I used to play into the night for you, sweet wife.
I've not played a note since you parted from life. ~
When they woke up a few hours later in preparation to leave, they exchanged kisses that should have been desperate but weren't. Alice tugged on her cap and her clothes, becoming Al again, but Steve held onto her elbow to stop her standing up.
"Wait," he murmured. "I know we said we'd do this properly later, but if I'm doing it right..." He handed her a piece of fabric, which as she took it Alice realized was a folded scrap of dark blue lining from his uniform. He must have torn it off.
Alice frowned.
"Open it up," Steve prompted.
She unfolded the blue fabric, and stared down at it for a few moments. Her heart thudded.
"It's… I had to do my best drawing it from memory, but I think I got it right," Steve said, his eyes flicking from the charcoal drawing on the fabric to Alice's impassive face.
Alice drew a deep, measured breath as she looked down at the drawing. "Steve, this… is your mother's ring."
He let out a breath. "You remember it."
Alice traced the drawing. Steve had drawn the fine details with such accuracy she found it hard to believe he'd drawn from memory: a simple band, which she remembered was gold, with a small diamond set in delicate gold housing. Steve's mom had worn it on her ring finger every day. "Of course I remember it."
Steve swallowed. "It's… we'd get our own wedding bands, of course, and I know… I know this ring ain't big, it's all my dad could afford during the war really, but I thought… I'd like to give it to you. When I can. It's with my stuff back in Brooklyn."
Alice looked up, her eyes stinging. "You'd give it to me? Are you sure?"
Steve's lip quirked. "Well I mean, I did just marry you. You'd want to wear the ring?"
Alice's fingers shook as she held the drawing. "I'd be honored."
"Well." Steve took her hand and curled her fingers over the piece of fabric. "Until then, we'll have to make do with the drawing. I figured that wouldn't be too suspicious."
Alice pocketed the drawing carefully. "I don't have anything to give you."
Steve drew her close. "I've got everything I need."
Smithsonian Air and Space Museum Internal Memo, 2013:
Julian,
For the Brooklyn segment I'd like you to work on a display about Rogers' parents. For centrepieces I know for sure we have a framed photograph of Joseph Rogers, Sarah Rogers' nursing uniform (will have to see about the integrity of the fabric), as well as both their wedding rings and Sarah's engagement ring, but I'd have to check with the Museum Support Center to be sure about the rest. This segment has potential to be a good way of elaborating on the early twentieth century, so I'd like emphasis on the war and on the viral diseases of that period. Draw up a design plan for me and I'll take a look on Monday.
Anaisha.
As Al and Captain America again, they returned to the little village in the darkness to find the pastor leaning against the back of the church, holding a candle.
"I thought I would have to come out and find you," he said with a warm smile.
"No fear," Steve said as he tightened one of his uniform straps. "We appreciated the privacy, but it's important to us to get that family back safe."
"I know," the pastor nodded. "I knew that the moment you both stepped into my home. Congratulations again, by the way," he said in a lower voice as they grew near.
Alice smiled. "Thank you."
The pastor glanced over his shoulder. "Georg and Reba are inside, they put the children down for some sleep but they're waking them back up now." He turned back. "Take our car for the journey back. It's large enough to fit you all, and you can leave in the forest outside town when you're done, near the well. We'll pick it up later."
"We appreciate it," Steve nodded. "We'll hide it carefully so no one else finds it."
They heard soft footfalls and glanced over to see Nanette, the pastor's wife, padding toward them through the dewy grass. She yawned behind her hand. "The children are awake, they're ready to go." Her eyes lighted on Alice and Steve. "You look well rested." Her mouth curled into a smile.
"We'll be going then," Steve smiled back.
The pastor took his wife's hand, and together they gave Alice and Steve a solemn look. "We wanted to reassure you that not a word will ever leave our lips of what has happened here tonight." Alice found her own hand reaching automatically for Steve's. Their fingers curled together. The pastor's face became grave. "I hope that one day, for everyone's sakes, that you two, like Georg and Reba's family, can live where and how you please."
Overwhelmed, Alice stepped forward and kissed the Pastor's cheek. "Thank you. For everything."
The children cried as they watched the pastor and his wife grow small in the car's rear window, along with the village they'd known their whole lives. Alice didn't know how much their parents had told them, but she guessed from the eldest boy's eyes that at least he had some inkling of how permanent this removal was going to be. Alice wanted to apologize to him.
She and Steve sat in the front seat of the pastor's dark green 1932 Ford, with the whole family squashed into the back. Georg and Reba, their eyes wide, sat with the eldest boy between them, and their two younger children on their laps. They had a single duffle bag at their feet, and a small parcel of food from the church. The toddler sniffled through the whole journey.
Things were tense on the road. As they drove with their headlights off in the dim pre-dawn light, they came across signs of evacuated road blocks. They even had to stop once to push aside a set of abandoned barricades. But there was no sign of life.
Alice and Steve stole glances at each other when they could, glowing with their secret.
Excerpt from article 'Righteous Among the Nations awarded in Paris' in Le Monde, 3 August 1965 [Translated]:
Pastor Aleron Bernard and his wife Nanette (pictured above with the Fradin family, who they hid in their church for two years during World War II) were today awarded with Righteous Among the Nations medals at a ceremony at the Mémorial de la Shoah in Paris on Monday.
They were presented with honorary citizenship of Israel, and their names will appear on the Wall of Honor in the Garden of the Righteous of Yad Vashem, Israel.
In accepting the honor, Pastor Bernard said that he and his wife are "honored, moved, and most of all very thankful that George, Reba and their children are able to live safe and free".
Pastor Bernard, Nanette, and the citizens of their small village south of Montluçon protected the Fradins for two years under Nazi occupation.
Alice let out a heavy sigh when they turned the last bend and the still-smoking town finally came into view. The orange sliver of dawn had appeared on the horizon, meaning they had less than an hour to get this family on a plane. They parked in the north forest, following the pastor's instructions, then Alice picked up the toddler and Steve picked up the family's bags, and they all hurried east to where they could see Maquisards milling in and out of the town.
Patting the sniffling little girl's back, Alice hailed the first Maquisard they came close to. "Where are the Americans?"
The man pointed east in the direction of the makeshift airfield, staring at them.
Alice bit the inside of her cheek. The sun was creeping over the horizon. "Hurry now."
They half-jogged along the tramped-down road in the field, passing destroyed HYDRA trucks and split-open sandbags. Alice could feel the eyes of the small family darting everywhere, and their fear mounting. She glanced at Steve, and he shot her a reassuring look.
"They won't leave without us," he murmured.
"But we told them to leave if we weren't back on time," Alice reminded him.
He sighed. "I know. But Bucky's with them."
Alice nearly laughed. The idea of Bucky leaving Steve behind? She couldn't even comprehend it.
Finally they hurried over a slight rise in the field and found themselves looking down at the makeshift airfield - a hastily flattened plain of grass with a C-47 cargo plane waiting at the far end, its propellers still, with a small group of people standing by it. Alice and Steve led the way down to the airfield, and soon a shout arose from the group by the plane. It sounded suspiciously like 'about time!'
By the time they'd reached the grass by the parked cargo plane, Alice was well and truly breathless and the toddler in her arms was grabbing at her mouth, laughing. Well, I'm glad one of us thinks this is funny.
"Reba!"
Alice looked up to see Lisette sprinting across the grass towards her sister, tears in her eyes and her hair flying. She halted her momentum only at the last moment to avoid crushing the baby, then flung her arms around Reba with a desperate laugh.
Smiling, Alice looked over to see the 107th Tactical Team standing by the cargo plane with a few Maquisards, a man who looked like the SSR pilot (he was looking at his watch), and -
"Otto?" Alice exclaimed. She hastened towards the group.
Otto stepped forward, his eyes flicking over her and the toddler wriggling in her arms. He was disguised too, this time in a shaggy blonde wig and a heavy set of spectacles. "You're alright?"
She glanced down at herself. Filthy, rumpled and carrying a toddler, she couldn't imagine how she looked. "I'm fine," she said. She reached out to squeeze his shoulder. "What are you doing here? What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong. I just realized yesterday that you might have done something foolhardy" - he shot a significant look at the dirty bandage wrapped around her forearm - "and I came to get you."
"I'm alright, really," she said quellingly. "I would've been fine to get a lift back into the city with the Maquisards like we agreed." Out of the corner of her eye she watched Steve stride up to the rest of his team and greet them. Lisette and Reba were weeping as they walked up together, Georg and their son following, looking exhausted.
"I'm glad to hear that," Otto said earnestly. His eyebrows came together. "Did you really fight?"
Alice swallowed guiltily. "Yes."
"Alice. What if you were hurt? Killed? We can't afford to-"
"I know," she cut in soberly. "You know I know. I'm sorry. We can talk about it later, but for now…" she held up the toddler pointedly.
"Right," Otto sighed. He frowned at her. "Why do you seem happy?"
Alice suppressed a smile. "I'm not allowed to be happy?"
His frown deepened as they both began to walk toward the group by the plane. "Very well then," he said. "I'm going to drive us back to Bourges right away, but you should know - the Propaganda Department sent me a telegram yesterday. We're to evacuate France immediately."
Alice nearly tripped. "Today?"
"As soon as possible. The Allies are breaking loose of Normandy, in no time they'll have swept the country. The troops aren't evacuating yet, but the Propaganda Department don't want to risk us any longer."
She blew out a breath. "Well then. Back to Berlin, then?"
"For now."
They reached the rest of the group, and Alice smiled as the others welcomed her back. She and Steve shared a glint-eyed glance.
"You may get on the plane now," Dernier was telling Georg, Reba, and Lisette. "The others are waiting already. We have saved you some seats."
"Thank you," Reba said emphatically, tears on her cheeks. She had her infant in one arm and clutched her sister's hand with the other. Georg reached out, and Alice gladly handed over the grabby toddler.
"Tout le meilleur," [All the best] Alice whispered to the child with a wink, and she giggled.
"Truly," Georg said as he held the girl to his chest, and clutched his son's hand. "We… cannot thank you enough." His eyes flicked from Alice to Steve. "Both of you." Then his eyes roved over the group before him, and the plane. "All of you."
"Thank us by living well," Alice told him with a smile. It was what she'd said to dozens of other refugees and fugitives she'd helped flee Nazi territories. She liked to think of them all with full stomachs and warm beds, free of fear. Georg inclined his head, and Reba nodded emphatically. With another wave, the whole family walked down to board the plane. The pilot followed them, with a significant look at Steve and then his watch as he left.
Alice set her hands on her hips and looked around at them all. Steve, Bucky, and the rest of the 107th Tactical Team, about to fly back to Normandy to join the rest of the fight once more.
"Goodbye again," Steve said with a sad smile, the first to speak. Alice met his eyes and the night they'd shared sparked between them. All this - the plane, the Maquisards, the smoking town, felt like a return to reality. But here they both stood, man and wife, in the middle of it all.
"Yes," she said on an exhale. "You're all too good at your jobs." She jerked her head at Otto. "We're being sent back to Germany."
The 107th Tactical Team let out an exclamation of surprise and regret, but Alice's eyes didn't leave Steve. He seemed… disappointed, and yet relieved at the same time. He knew Berlin was probably safer for her right now than the fighting front in France. Alice smiled, and he echoed the smile back to her.
"We'll see you next time, then," Dugan said with forced cheer, and Alice dragged her eyes off Steve so she could lean over to give the man a hug.
"Take care of them, Dugan," she muttered. The plane engines started up with a roar.
"I'll do my best, ma'am. Though half the time they're the ones taking care of me."
She farewelled each of them once again, trading a joke or a knowing hand squeeze - she'd fought alongside these men in battle, now. With Falsworth in particular, she felt a strange kind of unspoken bond. He tipped his cap to her.
When she came to Steve she gripped the back of his uniform in desperate handfuls as she hugged him, and he tucked his face into her neck for the briefest of moments. His hand settled over her hip, where the drawing of the ring sat in her pocket.
"I'll see you back behind enemy lines, soldier," Alice murmured.
"It's a date," he murmured back.
They pulled apart, and Alice tried not to wince at the flicker of pain in her chest.
As she turned to hug Bucky goodbye, the others had already started making their way towards the plane. The plane's propellers were already at full speed, kicking up gusts of wind across the field.
"I'll see you later," Alice smiled as Bucky hoisted her off her feet again.
He squeezed her in reply. "Have a bath," he muttered. "You stink."
"You're one to talk." As Bucky set her down and she began to pull away, she said: "Steve and I got married."
"What?"
"You heard me." She turned and walked to where Otto was waiting for her, one hand clamped to his head to keep his wig from flying away.
"What?" Bucky called over the whirring engines.
Alice turned with a sunny grin and just waved. Bucky stared back at her, his eyes round and his mouth open, until Steve shouted something from the back of the plane and with a start, he ran to the ramp.
He glanced back just before he boarded, cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted: "What?" again.
Watching Bucky with his bewildered expression, half hanging out the back of the plane, with Steve just visible behind him, Alice beamed even wider and then blew a dramatic kiss towards them.
Laughing, Steve hauled Bucky into the plane and a moment later the ramp slammed shut.
Alice and Otto stood, side by side, watching as the plane rolled down the flattened grass field, picking up speed, until with a shiver it sailed into the sky. Alice felt her heart pounding against her ribs and a strange sensation of elation swelling like a balloon in her gut.
She felt Otto looking at her. "I'm not going to be very happy with your report on this, am I?"
Alice squinted up at the dull metal aircraft growing smaller and smaller in the pale pink sky. "No," she said with a half-laugh. "You're really not."
Excerpt from 'Welcome to Wakanda', draft tourist brochure for Wakanda's global opening, 2018:
This gnarled Vibranium statue (pictured left) is dedicated to Yiva, an ancient Wakandan musician and lyricist who perfected the art of crafting Vibranium into strings for the kora instrument. Her genius and musical skill changed the face of Wakanda's musical legacy. Legend says that at the end of her life, Yiva walked out onto the veld at night and walked on into the stars, where she will play for the gods until the sun goes dark.
One day later, the Red Skull's sleek black car screeched to a halt on the main road of the smoking, rubble-strewn town. His eyes were wild as he threw open the door of his car and stared around, shoulders heaving.
He went without the plastic face mask now, choosing to bare his scarlet, god-like skin to the world. It made soldiers cower with fear when he turned on them.
The rest of his forces had already descended on the town to recover what they could, but they couldn't stay - without the Uber Tanks and aircraft to defend their position, the Germans or the Americans would sweep through here with ease.
He spied Doctor Zola standing on a mound of rubble and stormed toward him.
"Herr Schmidt," Zola stammered when he saw his infuriated leader approaching. "I - we-"
"You are failing!" Schmidt roared, rage surging through him. Zola cowered back. Fists clenched, Schmidt turned away. "We are close to an offensive which will shake the planet." He began striding away, looking out over the smoking piles of cement and warped machinery around him. A HYDRA soldier lay dead on a bollard nearby.
"And yet we are continually delayed," he went on, "because you cannot outwit a simpleton with a shield!"
"This is hardly my area of expertise," Zola complained, "I - I merely develop the weapons, I cannot fire them."
Schmidt felt his rage condense, crystallise. He loomed over Zola. "Finish your mission, doctor, before the American finishes his."
"Sir!"
Schmidt looked over his shoulder to see two of his soldiers escorting a sooty, ragged man in a suit toward him. This was Doctor Becker, the leading production officer at this town. He must have fled to the forest.
"I'm sorry Herr Schmidt," Becker said, his eyes desperate. "We fought to the last man."
Ah. Schmidt's anger had been surging in him since he heard of this town's demise. And now: a supplicant.
Doctor Zola looked away.
"Evidently not," Schmidt grit out.
With a blast and a flash of blue light, the last man crumbled to ash.
Excerpt from SSR Mission Report #196500, Agent MC, August 8 1944. Archived by Catherine Laurey, S.H.I.E.L.D. Archivist:
An initial survey of the evacuees indicates that there are 42 Prisoners of War (largely a mix of American and British servicemen, though formal identification is still pending), and 112 French civilians, including 10 children. I recommend we settle all evacuees in London and surrounds, where they will find communities of fellow refugees and evacuees.
… I am happy to report a complete mission success.
2 September 1944
For once, Alice actually enjoyed her birthday. She turned 26 this year, marking five years of war.
Sure, she didn't get to spend the day with her loved ones (aside from Otto), and sure, she was in the heart of Berlin alongside all the worst people she'd ever met, but there was a certain kind of glee in getting to watch the Third Reich crumble from within.
The past month had seen mass wins by the Allies in France - a week after Alice and Otto had been evacuated the Résistance rose up against the Nazis in Paris, on the 25th the city had been claimed by the Allies, and General Charles de Gaulle had arrived to assume control. France was French again.
Alice had also heard through her network that after the liberation of Paris, Vera Izard of the OCM had been released from a prison outside the city. Alice knew she wouldn't get a chance to see Vera again for a long time, but the knowledge that she was alive and safe bolstered her spirits.
After the destruction of the rural French town held by HYDRA, the HYDRA forces had nowhere left to go but back to their main factory in France. The SSR had dogged their heels the whole way, and a few days after the liberation of Paris they had blasted the base to smithereens. All Alice and Otto had to do was sit back and share a glass of champagne.
The borders were turning on on both sides of the Reich. The Propaganda Department was more cautious with sending Alice out to perform so she'd spent the last month in Germany and Austria, shoring up her networks here. She'd been performing fairly regularly, hopping from city to city.
And wherever she went, she took the drawing of Steve's mother's ring with her. At first she'd felt the instinct to hide it, but instead she put it in pride of place in her dressing room, where anyone could see it. Whenever anyone asked about it, she smiled mysteriously and told them it was from a "sweetheart". She was known for her flirtations so the mysterious tease seemed to fit right in. It even made some young officers jealous, and more desperate to get her attention by spilling their secrets.
Otto eyed the drawing sceptically, but didn't say anything. She'd told him in frank terms about what she and Steve had done - and instead of being angry, like she had expected, he had simply reached out and kissed both her cheeks. Congratulations, he'd said. But he hadn't been able to keep the sadness out of his voice.
Alice knew why: he thought this would doom her.
Every time Alice looked at the intricately drawn ring on the scrap of blue fabric, she missed Steve. She hadn't seen him since that night, and she was tired of being apart from him. In Germany, she didn't even have the benefit of regular contact. And yet, keeping that hand-drawn ring close reminded her of what was to come. If she was lucky.
And whenever a Nazi saw and complimented the design, she felt a vindictive burn of satisfaction. She never said it out loud, but she always thought: Captain America drew that. And you'll never see him coming.
~ Your song flows like mead
borne of blood
it runs through your veins. ~
If you'd like to see what the ring looks like, check out TheKnotNews's article '100 Years of Engagement Rings', Steve's mom's ring is based on the 1910s example.
We've got a nice long chapter coming next week, buckle up!
Reviews:
pancakesyrup: I'm so glad you liked the last chapter and the not-so-scary cliffhanger, I hope you liked the outcome this chapter! I really enjoy writing the historical excerpts so I'm glad you're enjoying them :)
GuestPrime: I'm so glad you liked the action in the last chapter! Alice is trained in defense but is by no means a soldier, and I wanted to reflect that in her fighting: she's alright with a gun, but she's not the crack soldier the rest of Steve's team are. Steve, meanwhile, is flipping and kicking and all around a badass. I hope you liked this chapter, and the outcome to last chapter's cliffhanger! (Also yes, I've been trying to allude to the movie montage and I'm glad you noticed the tank scene!)
Maryana: I can't describe how touched I was by your review, thank you so much for being so wonderful! I love writing and I love this story, but from time to time I can get overly critical of myself and it is really, genuinely, reviews like yours that remind me how much I love this. I'm so glad you enjoyed the Wyvern and that you're enjoying this story too, I update weekly so you won't have too long to wait between chapters :) You do spy some HP love! Alice's middle name being Hedwig started out as a joke that I then just had to include in the story haha.
I'm also so pleased that you've found this story educational! I'm an aspiring history teacher and I think one of the most important things to teach in history is the ability to empathise with people who are long-dead, so hopefully this story has achieved something like that :) As for my AU/canon blend, thank you so much for saying that. I've been worried about 'taking away' from canon characters, especially Peggy, so it's good to hear that it doesn't come across that way. Lots of love, thank you so much! Hope you enjoyed this chapter.
Guest: They were indeed in a church with six hours to spare! Hopefully Bucky will forgive them ;)