This one's a bit longer and has more of a plot than the others. I also included some Henry and Puck in there, because I've always liked Henry.
Military
War was where the action was. War was where all the gunfire was, all the shooting and explosions and excitement, and all Puck wanted to do was go to war. He knew people died there, he knew it was incredibly dangerous, but he was the Trickster King, he had fought dragons and survived, there was no way a human war could stop him!
That's what he tells everyone, Granny and Titania and Mustardseed and Daphne when he's signing the military enrollment form. They all shake their heads, or call him an idiot, or plead with him not to go, but he refuses, just keeps scribbling on the paper.
He's caught up in the fervour of his dream, and there is very little that exists in the world that can stop him.
Except her.
She walks up to him, just as he's clicking the pen close and putting it away, and slaps him. Hard. It stings, even on his Everafter face, and his whole cheek is bright red, throbbing painfully. She yells at him, berates him furiously, leans over for the paper before he regains his senses and takes control.
Snatching it out of her reach, he tells her what he told everyone, prepared for whatever insults he may call her, whatever punches she may throw.
Instead, she starts crying, throwing herself into his chest while large sobs rack her body. His mouth opens and closes, like a fish out of water, before his arms instinctively go around her, and he murmurs soothing words into her ear. She begs him not to go, gripping his shirt tightly with one fist, desperately telling him that he can't leave. What if you die, she cries, what if something happens? She can't take that, can't live without him, not because he's dead of some stupid dream of his.
He falls silent, mind whirring, as he listens to her, watches her break. She leans up and kisses him, filled with passion and heat and feverish hope, clutching him tightly because she doesn't want to let him go, trying to persuade him out of this stupid idea of his. It almost works, his lips are on the verge of saying 'no', but something whispers in the back of his mind.
Some sinister, idiotic, immature part of him, the little child in his soul which craves action, weaving fanciful dreams in his mind which beckon seductively at him. He pulls away, and tells her no, he's sorry but he's going, whether she wants him to or not. She looks at him, in seething fury, and slaps him again, on the other cheek, before storming off, still crying.
...
The day he leaves draws closer, and quiet rumours become deadly truths. There had been mutterings of a war brewing, an old ally had become discontent, and now there were preparations for battle. She didn't believe them, she couldn't, not until the day he was perched on the doorstep, bags in his hand as he takes the first step out.
Walking up to him, she kisses him, hard, then slaps him, hard, before finally she tells him to be safe, don't die on me. He chuckles, pecks her nose, and tells her of course, he'll be back to tease her again. I love you, she finishes. I love you too. Then he's gone, in a swirl of dust, and the crunch of car tyres of gravel, as she's left stranded without him.
...
He's gone for several months after that, dodging and shooting and occasionally flying, while she waits anxiously for his return. Dinner is a sombre affair, as is lunch and breakfast, and the walks to school are quiet and uneventful.
Finally they receive word, but not from him, but from a doctor down in Faerie, an old friend of Puck's family by the name of Cobweb.
Puck has been gravely injured, he writes, we're not sure if he'll make it but we'll try our best to help him pull through. We'll keep you posted.
She can't breathe, its happening, she just knew it would and here it is, her greatest fear confirmed. She locks herself in her room, sobbing into her pillow, while Daphne tells her it's alright, he'll be fine, they've got magic and fairies on their side.
But her words are hollow, and they leave a bitter taste in her mouth because she knows she's lying. Everyone's thinking the same thing, and suddenly the house gets even quieter.
Before, there was simply an absence of noise. Now, there wasn't even that, just a blanket of nothingness, a thick heavy air of grief and mourning. Granny Relda's dishes lose their colour, Mr Canis' meditation sessions become shorter and shorter, even Henry's newspaper shakes occasionally as his fingers and shoulders tremble.
Eventually though, she stops crying, looks at herself in disgust, at how weak she's become. If Puck ever saw her, she thought, he'd have a field day. Draining a glass of water, she unlocks the door, and joins the family. She's determined to be there when he comes through that door, with her family.
At last, another letter arrives, and no one can open it. No one except for Sabrina, who's detective instincts kick in, cut through her fog of grief, and she seizes it, slitting it open. With a strong but quiet voice, she reads it out.
Dear Grimm family
This is Cobweb. I am pleased to inform you that Puck has recovered from his injuries. He should be home within the week. I cannot tell you how happy I am, neither can I guess how happy you are, but be prepared. You may not like what you see.
Best wishes
They erupt into cheers, laughing and hugging, and Sabrina collapses onto the couch, whooping. Even a tear slides down Henry's face, and he embraces his wife and daughters and family, even dragging in Mr Canis. He's returning, they think, he's returning.
...
When he finally comes in, there is a sharp intake of breath, and then a muffled yell as Sabrina throws herself at him.
She kisses him everywhere, every bare patch of skin, his face and hands and neck, and he laughs loudly, holding her close.
Suddenly, there's a quiet cough, and they break apart to see a staring Henry, who can't help but smile slightly as he walks chuckling away.
Everyone else gathers up Puck, as if one body, scolding him and crying over him and telling him again and again to never go back there. He cries as well, he insists they were big manly tears, which continuously spill out of his eyes.
Finally, Sabrina manages to pull him outside, all to herself, and there she finally sees him.
He's limping now, heavily, one mangled foot dragging behind the other, and a large chunk of his nose is gone. His arms tremble ever so slightly, and a torn flap of skin flutters where his left ear should have been.
What happened?, she whispers, what did you do?
Smiling sheepishly, he explains. Turns out he wasn't the only Everafter in that war, or the only one with magic. They enchanted their bullets and blasted him in the leg, and then managed to clip him in the arm and face while he was trying to get away. He was assumed dead, of course they didn't know he was an Everafter, until his mother and brother came swooping in and took him to Faerie. After that, well she knew the rest.
Sabrina listened, mouth agape, before she walked slowly up to him. Holding him by the shoulders, she kissed him softly, before whispering in his good ear, don't you ever do that to me again, or I swear to God I'll be the one who pulls the trigger next time.
He chuckles, before pulling her to him, bringing their lips together as he kisses her over and over again.
I know this one isn't as good as my others, but I haven't written a plot-driven story in a while and I thought it'd be fun to write one again. Thanks for reading. Please review.