Maria "Anya" Allen (Formerly known as Cpl. Maria "Anya" Allen)
Organization data deleted – Current status: Civilian.
Ithaca, New York
"Mom, Dad, I'm back," Anya said to her parents' tombstones. She brought a bouquet of flowers and laid it on the ground in front of their grave.
It had been almost six months after Soap had killed Makarov in Dubai, and it had taken the same amount of time for Price to wrangle Anya's honorable discharge. The Americans wanted to keep her within military ranks as long as possible, but Price knew that Anya had already lost all taste for war. She returned to Ithaca the moment she received the greenlight to go home.
"We've done it. We did what the 141 was founded to do. Makarov is dead."
So, what if Makarov was dead? Her parents could not come back to life. Nothing had changed.
Tears filled her eyes. She could not help but to shed them, remembering how her parents had left this world. Burying her head in her hands, Anya sobbed freely. Her parents deserved to share in her triumph, but they were in the cold, hard ground, where military honors and her voice could not reach.
When she no longer had any more tears to cry, Anya raised her head high. The sun had broken through the clouds. The darkest days had passed. There was only light before her.
"Mom, Dad. Thank you for everything."
She adjusted the bouquet of flowers and left her parents' grave. She walked towards the exit, where Soap was already waiting for her in the car they had rented. "Are you alright, love?" he asked her, kissing her forehead.
Anya nodded. "I am now," she replied, wiping the corners of her eye with a piece of tissue paper.
"Where to now?"
Chuckling, Anya teased, "Anywhere where the sun shines."
Soap sighed. "Maria, you'd have to be more specific than that." He knew that she was referencing an old joke that they had shared, when he asked her what they should do when the war ended. She said that she wanted to return to Ithaca, to have a vacation in the Maldives, and a whole host of other possibilities. They had done the first two already.
"Well, we'd have to go dress shopping, so we should start there."
Maj. John "Soap" MacTavish
Task Force 141
Santorini, Greece
They held their wedding in Santorini. As they guest list was relatively small, they flew everyone in, even Major General MacMillan. Price, who offered to pay for the entire wedding initially, was given the role of her father, where he not only paid for her wedding gown, but also walked her down the aisle. Yuri and Nikolai served as groomsmen while Anya's friends from college were her bridesmaids.
The ceremony was a civil, simple one, held in an intimate resort on the caldera, overlooking the Aegean Sea. Soap could have sworn that he had never seen anyone more beautiful than Anya in her wedding gown. It was a cream-colored, strapless number with a mermaid silhouette. Her hair was worn in waves with hairpins that looked like actual jewels. He would always remember the smile that she wore. This was the smile that he had been waiting for, free of worry and pain.
Whatever vows they had were already said to one another. As the wedding celebrant went through the necessary motions, Soap and Anya held each other's hands, facing one another. In their minds, they recalled every single battle, every single moment shared between them.
"Do you, Maria Allen, take Major John MacTavish as your lawfully wedded husband?" the celebrant asked Anya.
"I do," Anya said.
Everyone could have sworn that Price gave a loud sniffle, causing a roar of jovial laughter.
The celebrant then turned towards Soap. "Do you, Major John MacTavish, take Maria Allen, as your lawfully wedded wife?"
"I do," Soap answered.
"You may now kiss the bride."
Always one for flair, Soap took Anya in his arms, and gave her a dip while kissing her, catching his new wife unawares. Everyone around them cheered as they entered a new life together with that kiss.
By then, Price had been so happy that he burst into peals of tears. Soap watched as Anya rushed to comfort him. He had fulfilled the promise that he had made to her, that he would give her a life where she could walk openly under the sun.
His mission now was to keep her there, laughing, smiling. She deserved nothing less.
