Okay clearly I write way too much, but I also had way too much fun with this one. This one is for your Alinya, and whether it stays a one shot...i guess we shall see dear friend Haha!
Comments and reviews are always Welcome.
The title is from when Gilbert calls her Lily of the Field. Believe it or not, it is not necessarily a compliment! It comes from a bible verse which roughly translates to not worry about material things and HE will provide for you, as he provides for the Lily of the Field. Which is actually a windflower, a type of Poppy. YEs, a Poppy not a Lily, which is another link and tie back to the war and Poppy's that come afterwards.
There is also a much more...explicit version over on A03 as well if anyone is interested ;)
The house was ultimately a surprise, built around an old lighthouse. Not their lighthouse they danced at of course, but another one is hidden away up on the coast. One she had vague memories about, but it allowed the surprise to be more of a surprise. No accidental look upon the process of being built. It was Ken's wedding gift,
She had been led to believe that all the choices she had been making were for their dream home one day. Days and hours pouring over catalogues, choosing paint colours together during the weeks and months of their engagement. Counting days and hours until their wedding days, stealing kisses in dark corners. Enduring the ribbing from her brothers and the gruff clearing of her throat from her father.
It had been a surprise in itself that Kenneth Ford had no plans to move his bride to the city. The Island was a second home to him, and his betrothed home. War does strange things to the people who survive it though. A scar upon his cheek, the far-out look on his face with certain things bring him back to the trenches. He rarely talks about it, unless they are alone which is far and few between.
Still, their wedding day came, bright and cheery as a day it should. A bride in yards of white silk and lace, white button shoes, next to his black formal suit and white silk waistcoat and tie. Well, wishes and kisses, rice was thrown and bubbles blown at them. Portraits and snapshots that need to be developed over the next days and weeks.
Clinking of glasses and well wishes as they all tucked into an early dinner, late lunch. Giving the newlyweds time to go off before it got dark. Still dressed in their wedding finery, they motored down the roads of the Island. The red sand, cobblestones that made trailing cans tied to the trunk of the car, with a large sign that said just married with tissue paper flowers and streamers.
"Close your eyes," Ken says from the driver's seat. "We are almost there, I want you to be surprised."
"Really Kenneth?" Rilla says shaking her head, covering her eyes with her kid-covered hands. Over the veil that was attached to her hat.
"No peaking," He says grinning as he pulls the car into a turn and drives a small distance before stopping the car. "Okay, you can open them." He says.
Rilla opens them slowly, she sees the sea first, but then on a hill, there is a house. A lighthouse, that has a whitewashed house attached to it. It looks new, it looks shiny as some sort of light shimmered across the bay from the windows.
"Are you?" Rilla gasps.
"Do you think you will like it?" Kenneth asks her hopefully.
"You bought me a lighthouse?" Rilla says looking at him mouth agape. "This is beyond imagining! Closer please?"
Ken chuckles and puts the car into reverse so he can pull away, going back down the old road, before going down another.
"It's a little out of a way, but less chance of family bothering us for a little bit this way," Ken tells her as he turns at a sign and newspaper box.
The Fords in black letters.
Rilla looks at him, holding her train as she walked up the driveway so it wouldn't get dirtier and the other takes his arm. Flowers are still a long way from blossoming but she already sees the telltale signs of Lily of the valley around the veranda.
She looks at him as he unlocks the door, eyebrow upturned.
"Right," Ken grins before swiftly picking her up as she squeaks and wraps her arms around his neck. Over the threshold, they went. For the first time, she sees inside and it is more than she can imagine.
Everything they had picked out together, or almost everything anyway. She could see things from her hope chest that her mother and she had made over the years. Table clothes and doilies laid out on tables, stained glass lamps lit up the living room that had plush floral sofas and a velvet burgundy divan across from it. Bookcases are built into the wall with glass doors and a writing desk in front of a large window that looks out over into the garden and further into the ocean.
While the walls were papered in delicate muted blue and silver grey floral patterns that she had fallen in love with. The metallic finish slightly raised snowdrop flowers.
"How did you?" She looks at him in amazement.
"Well, I had help from your mother and your sisters," Ken tells her. "Through there is the kitchen," he says leading her toward the back towards the white enamelled kitchen. Still bright from the sun. It sparkled and gleamed. White cabinets and dark blue accents from the tiles on the floor. A round oak table and four chairs off in one corner. A washroom for laundry and a lavatory with a toilet and sink. He sets the back down on the sideboard buffet, one that Mother Anne and Susan packed for her first day as a wife.
There is a large veranda out back looking over the coastline that went for miles upon miles. She looks back towards her husband who takes her hand, leading her down a hallway. Photos of them, her family, and his family are already on the wall in simple frames. Even photo's of Little Jims and her together.
"My office," he lets her look into a dark-panelled room with dark green curtains and his typewriter on a desk in front of another window before going back towards the stairs, to the chandelier dining room. Their wedding china still needs to be placed in the cabinet, the crystal and silverware. A long mahogany table, with blue diamond patterned cushions on the seat and the back.
"It's all wonderful," Rilla tells him as she looks toward the stairs. "Can we?"
"Of course," Ken says nodding his head and ushering her towards the stairs. Rilla grabs the train to her wedding dress and goes ahead of him. One hand on the banister, she couldn't quite wrap her head around the fact that this would be her home now.
There's a full bathroom with a large bathtub, a flushing toilet and hot water in the taps, and two spare rooms that had yet to be decorated and truly furnished. She stops in front of what would be their bedroom. An iron bed frame covered with quilts of her childhood on them along with her embroidered pillowcases. More doilies, lotions and potions are next to her hairbrushes on the vanity with a cushioned stool. A large armoire, and a closet for her dresses.
"Have you slept in here?" Rilla asks her husband.
"Not yet, it felt wrong to sleep in a house that its mistress hadn't been in yet," Kenneth tells her from the doorway.
Rilla nods her head, spotting a tall lamp with multiple pink shades that curved on a gentle slope. Five in total, and in such a way it reminded her of the flower Lily of the Valley. She reaches out to touch the pink stained glass in amazement.
"Do you like it?" Ken asks coming up behind her. "My Lily of the Valley?" A name he choose after finding out that hearing Rilla-My-Rilla reminded her of Walter. A play on his father in laws own pet name for his daughter— Lily-of-the-Field, taken from the bible of course. Though Ken often felt that it was more in a sense to chastise than it was out of admiration when he heard it. Even if Rilla never seemed phased by it.
"It's perfect," She looks at him brightly.
"Come we have one more place to see, but it's a trek and I don't wish for your dress to be dirtied." He says to her.
"Can you help me?" Rilla asks him meekly. "There are little hooks down the back in one spot," she explains.
Ken nods his head, finding the small silver hooks among the silk and tulle. First on the belt, and then hidden down the centre back. Women's clothing, such fascinating components that made no sense of construction to any man he thought.
He kisses her tenderly, before grabbing some of his clothing to change out of his own. He watches his wife duck behind the oriental screen with another light dress of a buttery yellow and when she comes back out she is doing up hooks and bars at the side of her waist and one of her shoulders was still undone. She fastened them without looking and reached for her wedding dress. She took a hanger looking at the dress with a wistful smile.
"You were beautiful in it," he says breaking the silence.
"Thank you," Rilla blushes and he takes the moment to dart behind the screen and take off his wedding suit.
"Come," he says after hanging up his suit next to her wedding gown. Taking her hand and leading her towards another door, which opened to a staircase. It was immediately cooler and made of stone stairs and old wooden beams.
Up the spiral staircase until they reached the door.
"I thought we could come back up at dusk and watch it turn itself on?" Ken says as they reach the fresnel lamp. "It's run by a Dalen light and has a solar valve so it turns itself on by itself at night, and off in the morning. There is a pipe that runs gas to the light, besides just a daily check-in and keeping up with repairs there isn't much to it."
"Which leaves you to your writing and I to the household and future children?" Rilla says knowingly.
"I do enjoy the sound of future children," Ken hums breathing in the scent of Lillies in her hair. Rilla blushes.
"It is still early?" Rilla murmurs. "What shall we do? Eat our leftover cake? Dance in the living room? Go down to the shore for a walk?"
"Whatever you wish my love," Kenneth tells her.
"Well, at least we have no guests," Rilla tells him. "My parents had family and guests over when they arrived at your parent's summer house before your father bought it."
"That is true, I did have our nearest neighbour come to make sure the house was ready for our arrival," Kenneth tells her. "Older widowed lady, she said she would leave some pantry basics to last us a few days as well I believe. No newlyweds need to worry about such things."
"That is very kind of her," Rilla agrees with the sentiment and favours the older woman did for them. "Though I have been practicing my cooking for the last few months, it had really come along according to Susan and Father."
"I am sure it will be," Ken says kissing her temple. They walk down the stairs before deciding on a light supper of melted cheese toast and leftover wedding cake before he took her down the old stairs that led down to the shoreline of the sandy beach.
They walk along the shore, shoes and stocking off, trousers rolled up for Ken as they dipped their feet in the still icy ocean water. It was early Ma after all, but it brought on laughter as Rilla shrieked and ran from the waves. Sturdy arms enclosed around her and warm smiles as he stole a kiss when she wasn't expecting it.
The sun set around them as they watched the blue skies turn pink and purple and they watched from afar as the light of the lamp flickered to life above them.
When the clock rang out at 11 pm both Rilla and Ken looked at each other. She wasn't afraid, she wasn't naive in the way some girls were. Her mother explained and even gave her a book from her father's study that was for the lady's medical health. It was—it was insightful and embarrassing to read as she did but thankful that she understood the mechanics of things.
It didn't stop her nerves of course. They kissed in corners, they kissed after sunset in his car. His hands had touched her breasts through her dresses and corsets. They felt the slice of thigh that was not hidden by stockings or her drawers.
Tonight it would just be more, her nightgown was the sheerest cotton silk and bits of lace that went into a deep V, covering enough of her chest to hide whatever secrets she still could. It didn't reach her knees! A long lace robe, something that Mrs. Elliot called highly impractical when Rilla opened it at her bridal shower. Lace, winged sleeves, and a silk belt. It was one of the prettiest things Rilla owned and she would take it out every so often, try it on, look at herself in the mirror, and imagine herself in front of her husband wearing such a thing.
She always ended up blushing at those thoughts.
She finds herself sitting delicately on the bed, that she had pulled back waiting for Ken to come to join her and when he does knock gently on the door she beckons him to come in. A silk robe, plain striped pants with a drawstring at the waist. No shirt—
"My god you are beautiful," he stops in his tracks. The pink-hued flush of her skin set off against the white of her nightgown.
Her long ruddy hair was down around her shoulders, longer than it seemed when it was up and pinned out of the way. Lush waves and curls reached the top of her hips. Touch of kohl still around her eyelids darkening her lashes at the base of her lids, and just a spec of tinted balm on her lips.
She had the flower lamp glowing dimly near the bed, the glass twinkling through the incandescent light.
"My Lily of the valley," he whispers spotting the delicate flowers embroidered on her nightgown straps.
A kiss in the indent of her collarbone, up her neck and finally her lips.
"Not Lily-of-the-field?" She teases him.
"Even so, I would buy you a thousand dresses if I could," Ken tells her kissing her perfect nose and then her earlobe.
Pale hands, bury themselves in the warmth inside his robe. Early May was still chilly as early May tended to be given it was the day they had chosen for their Ingleside wedding.
"Have you?" Rilla asks curiously. He was almost twenty-seven after all.
"Have I what?" Ken asks her with a tilt of his head. Knowing, but wanting clarification if she wants the answer or not.
"This?" She says blushing.
"Have you?" He teases her.
"Of course not," She says indignantly.
"Neither have I, but I think we'll be okay?" Ken admits. "Are you okay with that?"
"It makes it less daunting?" Rilla finds herself admitting it with a nod of her head.
"We also have years and years to learn together," Ken says kissing her, pushing the robe from her shoulders and gently tossing it over to the end of the bed. He removes his own before sitting on the edge of the bed. His hands cradle her face before he kisses her deeply, waiting for her to open her mouth for him as he lightly bites her bottom lip.
She scoots back on the bed, pulling him with him. Though he cradles the back of her head as she leaned back into the pillows. This was new, this was his imagination running wild with him in his dream. She looks at him through half-closed eyes, his hands running down her neck and the curve of her shoulder pointing, over the swell of her breasts and the small of her waist.
Slow torturous kisses as their tongues danced with each other. There was no rush to the finish line, not yet anyway. Though there is that forbidden, unobtainable feeling growing low in their stomachs that suddenly made more sense. Blood pulsing in their veins made their mind fade away, touches felt like liquid fire on sensitive skin.
It's uncoordinated, out of sync as they try to figure out a rhythm. Hips bounce off each other in awkwardness as they both fight back a laugh when it happens for the umpteenth time. It allows them to relax, and to feel each other in a new way. It wasn't exactly like dancing, but with a few missteps, and fumbles it became smoother as they lost their worries in sensations and feelings. After a low guttural moan and high-pitched whisper as her body shook beneath him making whatever resolve he had fade away as narrowly caught himself from falling on top of her heavily.
She looks at him for a moment before letting out a laugh as she brushes his hair from his face. "I'm sorry, I'm not laughing at you, not really….I just didn't think. The books—they make it sound so….stiff and proper."
Ken gives her a look but rolls off her and pulls her onto his chest. "No more books for you then." He says yawning.
It was still dark when Ken shook his bride awake, although confused she pulled on the warm nightshirt of his and robe that he handed her. Slippers on her feet, they trekked up the stairs of the lighthouse, the light flashing, but on the horizon, the sun is rising in the east. Wrapped up in his arms she yawns and snuggles into his embrace.
Minutes tick by as the sky is lighter and lighter and eventually, the lens shuts off and sunlight bathes over their bridal home. Sitting on a woollen blanket she looks in wonder before she turns her head and kisses him shyly.
They started this journey of marriage in a house that could only grow with them with each sunrise and sunset.
"Are you happy my Lily of the Valley?" He asks her.
"In ways, I could never describe to you darling," Rilla tells him.