#brotherreader

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The smell of gunpowder filled your nostrils as the smoke was curling up from your riffle. Opening your one eye again, moved you, your head a bit to the side. You wanted to see how well you had done. Opposite from you, heard you a cry, followed by arms swaying up in the air. You exhaled deep at the sound of the loud thud. A body dropping to the ground. No… a corpse. Without thinking to much of it, hurried you up to your feet. The thorns from the bush you had been hiding behind, scratching your hands. Pulling the handle back, readied you, your riffle for another run. 

It had to be quick as danger was nearby. Jumping over the bush, hurried you to rejoin your group. Dragging your boots through the puddles. You heard voices, thinking, hoping you had found your group again. Some twigs snapped underneath a heavy boot as it set you off. Your muscles squinted together, sending a wave of panic rushing through your body. You tried to hear from where the sounds came. Somewhere before emerged a man from between the trees. You gasped spotting him. He did the same. Both of you hid as quickly as you could behind a tree for coverage.

Holding your riffle in front of you, added you a bit more gunpowder to it. – “Friend or foe!” – called you out loud. You had to be absolutely sure. There was a risk it was the enemy. You had to act quick than to terminate him. If he was a friend, it would be wise not to kill him as you were already outnumbered. – “Friend!” – heard you him shout back from a distance. The soft wind picking up his voice. – “How can I be certain of that!” – shouted you back. – “State your name and division, Sir!” – You waited for an answer, your eyes scanning the scenery before you. You didn’t want to be ambushed. – “Sir Richard Davis, eleventh division under the watch of General Camberfelt!” – shouted he loud as it made you exhale relieved. – “State yours!” – carried the wind away. 

“Lord Y/n Bridgerton, ninth division under the watch of General Williams.” – answered you. – “Bridgerton?” – heard you him repeat. You slowly came from behind the tree, your opponent do the same. From afar, lowered both of you, your riffles. Stepping over crunching leaves, made you, your way over to him. Davis and you met in the middle, patting each other on the arm. – “Ninth? You are far from your station.” – spoke Sir Davis, walking beside you. You hummed loud. – “We got separated.” – replied you. Glancing over your shoulder, were you reminded of what you left behind. Holes in the ground created by explosions. Dismembered soldiers lost forever.

“Here.” – Sir Davis offered you some water from his flask. – “You seem thirsty son.” – You gladly accepted it, pouring the sweet cold water down your throat. When you handed him back the flask, noticed you he had been staring at you. Quirking your eyebrow up, wondered you what he saw in you. – “You seem young.” – stated he. You laughed soft. – “Six-and-twenty, sir.” – answered you proudly. Sir Davis chuckled, patting you on a back. – “A wise young man, I see.” – you turned to look at the woods before you, but Sir Davis was not done speaking yet. – “You the eldest?” – questioned he. You shook your head. – “Third, Sir. When we received the note, I went instead of my brothers.” – your mind went back to the time, you first received the note. The note that would stir a lot of emotions.

Violet handed the note over to Anthony. – “It’s from the army.” – whispered she at him. Anthony’s eyes widened, immediately getting up. He left the parlor as you followed him. You heard enough to understand what it was about. Anthony walked into his study, exhaling deep as his hands leaned against his desk. He got startled by the door opening. You entered, shutting the door behind you. – “What are you doing here Y/n.” – asked Anthony of you, not even have opened the note. – “I’ll do it.” – said you firmly. Anthony gaped at you when you pointed at the note in his hand. – “I… what?” – breathed he out. – “I knew this day would come. Every household in London has been receiving them.” – explained you to your brother. 

Anthony was stunned for a moment at your keen observation. Anthony turned himself around to quickly read the note. – “You cannot change my mind about it. I am going.” – insisted you whilst Anthony was still reading. His eyes hastily moving over the words, hoping he hadn’t read anything wrong. He exhaled deep, placing the note down. – “I am the eldest… It is required of me to go.” – spoke he, his back still faced to you. – “It is not, brother.” – Anthony straightened his back, turning slowly around to you. – “You expect me to let you take my place? Y/n, I…” – he shook his head, baffled at the words that didn’t seem to form in his mind. – “This is absurd!” – mumbled he out, rubbing his chin.

You firmly walked across the room to him. – “You are needed here, brother! To look after mother and the others.” – you reminded him of his duty. – “The entire family relies on you. You are the head of the house.” – Anthony bit his lip, shaking his head slightly. – “Then it is still not your task, Y/n.” – said he. You puffed loud, crossing your arms. – “What? You wish to send Benedict? You know as good as me that he wouldn’t survive a day out there.” – called you out, Anthony slightly agreeing with you. – “Benedict his place is with art, not with war.” – Anthony couldn’t argue with that. Defeated slumped he against his desk, exhaling long and deep.

“What must I do…” – muttered he to himself, rubbing his palms against his eye sockets. – “I’ll take the family’s place.” – reminded you him. – “Y/n you…” – started Anthony. – “This is my purpose, Anthony! To fight in honor of my family. War is upon us, and we cannot deny it any longer. If it means getting a chance to end it all, to prevent the war to come knocking on our doorstep. I would gladly take on the beast for survival of our family.” – In that moment understood Anthony. With much pain in his heart, had it to be you. The memory drifted away like snippets of paint touching water.

Footsteps made you alert again. Bringing your riffle to the front, readied you, yourself. Squinting your eyes, spotted you from afar dark patterns against the green scenery. – “Incoming!” – shouted you loud, diving to a secure place. Sir Davis did the same. Rolling over to the other side. Hidden between the bushes, pulled you, your riffle up your shoulder. Closing one eye, focused you on the marching group. They were shouting as well in their language, sending out orders. Bullets were flying around your ears, making you duck down even deeper. You never had gotten used to those sounds. The thrilling sounds of war. Useless war against each other. Sir Davis lifted himself a bit up, firing at the opposite squad. You did as well, silencing your moral. Clearing your mind was the best way to fight this war. 

If you stood long enough still to think about what you were doing, you were death. In more ways anyone could possibly think. You fired a shot, sending a soldier down. Ducking again, missed you the bullets firing above your head. – “Bridgerton!” – shouted Sir Davis at you. You got on your knees again, firing again. More men arrived as you felt cornered. Narrowed down. – “Sir Davis!” – yelled you out, getting his attention. He groaned, gritting his teeth. Firing again, send you another man down. Needing to reload, lay you down on the ground. Your coat catching up dirt. Men were falling down like birds, dropping to the ground. There was just one more left. One more man that stood between your survival.

You got up, aiming at him. He was aiming at you as well. You shot first, watching the body drop. – “Bridgerton!” – called Sir Davis out, making you turn sharply around. You had heard it as well. Sir Davis his gun had blocked, leaving him to struggle with it to fire. Standing face to face with the enemy that had snuck up from behind. You raised your riffle, just having to move the handle for another round. It had to be quickly as in a split second all could be done. Adrenaline was shooting through your body, gritting your teeth at the movement of your hand. A shot got fired. A breathless gasp left your mouth, leaving you to receive the impact. 

Your arms slowly opening as you dropped to your knees. Your expression numb as the dark crimson red stained your shirt. Sir Davis was shouting as another shot got fired. With foggy eyes, saw you, your opponent fall back with such intensity it swooped him off his feet. Releasing a deep and long breath, rolled your eyes back. Any control you had over your body lost as it dropped to the ground with a loud thud. – “Bridgerton!” – Called Sir Davis out. He dived to his knees, rolling your body over to him. – “Stay with me.” – said he, tapping your cheek. – “Stay with me son.” – repeated he, pushing your cheek with his palm. Feeling a gurgle, coughed you out blood.

Sir Davis’s hand hovered over the red stains forming on your shirt. The red circle growing wider. – “Sir…” – whispered you out, finding some strength to speak. Sir Davis was afraid to look away from your wound. Afraid to look you in the eye. Even though your eyes were closed. You had not the strength to open them. Your body shuddered with every cough that brought along some blood. – “I’m sorry son… forgive me.” – said he, lowering his head. You knew you were not getting through this. Waiting for the dark shim to come and claim you. Sputtering out some blood, reached you for your inside pocket. Slowly opening your eyes, clutched you onto a piece of paper. – “Please…” – whispered you out, barely finding the strength to do so. 

Sir Davis lifted his head up, seeing you slide a blood-stained folded paper to him. – “My mother…” – begged you, finding it harder to swallow. Sir Davis gripped onto the paper for you. – “I promise you son. I promise you.” – With some relief, dropped you, your head, eyes rolling back as you drew your last breath. Sir Davis lowered his head against your chest, sobbing loud. It took him a while, but he finished digging a grave for you. He knew he couldn’t take your body with him. Yet he wanted to give you a proper burial. Before he buried you, removed he something significant of you from your vest. To give your family recognition it was you that had passed. Fighting in honor of your country and for the crown.

Violet froze when she heard the knock on the door. Something was amiss, she had felt it all night. She waited curious in the hallway for the doorman to open the door. She tried to get a glimpse of who was at the door. A voice coming through. – “I have an urgent message for the Bridgerton family.” – Violet’s hand moved to her chest, clutching onto it. Anthony frowned, coming down the stairs. – “Mother?” – said he curious, laying his hand on her frozen body. She breathed again at the touch of her son. Anthony looked upon the door with a confused glance. He widened his eyes at the sight of a man in a uniform. 

A uniform that hinted he was a general. He was allowed to enter, bowing before Anthony and Violet. – “I come baring news.” – said he respectfully. Violet wettened her lips, having a hint of what news he brought. It was not accustomed for generals to come bare news at the Homefront when their child was doing great. Anthony straightened his back, holding his hands firmly behind his back. He motioned to his study as he did not want to send the man to the parlor. Anthony was leading the general to his study when a curious Gregory came lurking from outside the parlor. Anthony hissed at him to get back.

The general staid up straight when Violet and Anthony stood near his desk. The general placed his hand against his chest. – “Second general Smith, under command of General Williams, Ninth division.” – introduced he himself. – “I apologize for bringing this news to you.” – started he, shuffling his hand into his inside pocket. Violet released a sobbing gasp at the state of the blooded paper he revealed. Anthony widened his eyes, snatching the paper from the general’s hand. – “I…” – the general turned to Violet, bowing deep to her. – “Your son fought proudly for his country and crown.” – Anthony inhaled sharp, seeing his mother collapse to the ground. She had fallen down, opening her mouth as no sounds came out. 

Her voice caught in her throat. Anthony hurried to her side, taking her hand in his. She was rocking herself back and forth, her hand tight around her heart. One loud cry for help set her off. Her body trembling followed by a loud scream. Anthony felt the ground from underneath his feet, sending him under. He fell down on his bottom beside his mother, staring bewildered and lost in front of him. His hand trembled and shook with the blooded paper in it. – “I heard…” – called Benedict out, opening the door. Behind him was Daphne. They gasped at the display. Violet sobbing loud, crying for help as she bend down, her face near the ground. Her screams pierced through Anthony’s heart as it reminded him of the day his father died.

Benedict noticed the blooded paper in Anthony’s hand, sliding down the wall as his feet couldn’t carry him anymore. Moving the back of his head against the wall, told he himself not to cry. Daphne inhaled sharp at a sting of pain in her heart. – “I’m sorry for your lose.” – spoke the general before taking his leave. Benedict pulled his knees closer to his body, moving his hand through his hair. Sobbing loud, couldn’t he grasp that his brother was death. Gone. Daphne stumbled to the ground, feeling intense pain throughout her body. – “My baby!” – cried Violet out. – “My son!” – she felt as empty as the day she lost Edmund. Another piece of her family torn by death. She had fought away her terrors and nightmares for so long, she was at peace for a time. Now it hit her harder then before. Her own son. Lost in a more gruesome way then Edmund. Violet kept rocking herself, her hand clutched to her chest for if she wished really hard, you were perhaps laying in her arms. Her son, cradled against her chest, holding you one more time.

Anthony felt guilty. He let you leave. He was the one to agree with it. He send you off into the dangers. There was always a slight chance that you wouldn’t survive it, but now it had become a reality. – “It should’ve been me…” – confessed Benedict, wiping his tears away. – “It should’ve been…” – repeated he. – “Me!” – shouted he loud, balding his hands as he roared in terror. His entire body trembling with the intensity of his voice. His hands unfolded again, dropping lifeless next to his body, feeling dizzy. The door got opened again as the rest of the Bridgerton family entered. – “I saw a general, what happened?” – asked Colin, getting pushed aside by Eloise. Eloise took one glimpse of the room, hurrying back outside. 

Her hand covering her mouth as she made it midway the hallway before stumbling to the ground. Francesca gasped loud, smacking her back against the door, staring lost at the ground. – “My baby…” – kept Violet crying out. Colin gasped, throwing his arms around Gregory and Hyacinth. He pulled them away from the room, hearing them cry. – “Is Y/n death?” – asked Hyacinth with teary eyes. Colin slowly nodded. Her lip trembling as she screamed it out, swaying her arms around. She broke free from Colin’s grip, running into the parlor to cry her heart out. Gregory stumbled a bit backwards, unsure how to react to the death of his older brother.

Daphne cried it out, moving over to her mother. She clutched onto her, hugging her as she needed comfort. Violet hugged her firmly back. Anthony dared to open the note, wondering what it said. He moved his hand to his trembling mouth, the paper shaking in his hands. It was the letter his mother send to you before your departure. You had been holding onto it for so long. Now covered in blood stains. A darkness fell over the Bridgerton house. Another young soul taken away too soon. You still had so much to do. 

You still had to annoy Eloise with your brotherly jokes when she would participate in the social season. You still needed to see Daphne’s child. Tease your brothers till eternity. Bring your mother to shame by acting a bit reckless and teasing her. You still had so much to do in your life. – “Forgive me.” – said Anthony, his heart aching. Gregory stumbled in the room, coming to sit beside Anthony. Anthony threw an arm around him, bringing him closer. Gregory sniffed loud. – “I don’t know how to move on without him…” – said he, making Anthony rub his cheek against his hair. – “I know it is hard… but we will… Every day will feel like a challenge, but I assure you the pain will ease over time.”

“I don’t want it to ease…I don’t want to forget about Y/n, like I have forgotten about father.”

“I promise you, you won’t Gregory.”

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