#x sister reader
In the Shadow of Somme
Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female/Sister/Reader
Summary: Thomas believes his sister is a blessed woman, never faced war nor the destruction of France, but one day they find out what their sister was up to in 1916.
Warning:mentions of war, death, argument
Word Count: 1.4k
The words were driving her crazy and burned deep into her skin. Tears veiled her vision, but didn’t slide down her cheeks. Y/N was strong, stronger than the brothers thought, perhaps even stronger than the men together who had found a place around the table on the sofa of dark leather.
Words echoed over and over and the secret almost escaped her lips, but Y/N remained strong, not wanting to be pitied or respected for what she had done as dark messages spread over all lands and drowned golden years. The name of the country which had scarred the hearts echoed hundreds of times, rippling old wounds open and making hatred and tears flow in dark chambers.
No more blood dripped and stained the fields. Nevertheless, when silence reigned, Y/N thought she could hear the cries of the wounded men carried into the tent on makeshift stretchers. The long skirt and the piece of clothing with long sleeves and a high collar made it impossible to discover the traces of France on her body. Deep scars reminded her she was also there, where nobody, woman nor man, should ever be. The deep wounds had long since healed. The blemishes and blueish marks had disappeared many months ago, but her skin ached now and then, and fear clouded her mind when she recalled the gas bomb going off a few steps away from the camp where she was stationed.
Y/N folded her arms in front of her chest and leaned against the frame of the wooden door. Half-heartedly she was listening to her brothers reminisce about the greyed memories of fun days at the front, playing cards in the dark trenches, drinking rum, but with each passing hour, the stories grew darker and darker until they resembled shadows forming into monstrous crashing waves. Tragic stories never crossed Y/N´s lips, not wanting her brothers to hate her for what she had done, had left the land to serve, and wrapped herself in a cloak of silence.
Y/N stared into the distance. Tears no longer obscured her vision, saw sharply and clearly and it seemed as if she was emotionless, not showing compassion, but after watching hundreds of men die, holding the cold hands adorned with dirt and grime, Y/N could no longer grieve nor cry. Winter ruled in her eyes. She remembered the words of men begging for a gentle touch as the spark of life faded away and after seeing children die in her arms, calling for their mother, Y/N grew stone cold. Her heart turned into a block of ice and not even the death of a beloved could make her cry.
Glasses collided with the table again, but Y/N no longer recoiled.
“Won’t you sit at our table, sister?” Arthur joked in a joyful tone.
The tie no longer hung neatly on the white button and traces of wine had eaten into the material.
“No, thank you.”, “She doesn’t belong at our table. Those are stories a woman like her wouldn’t bear.” laughed Thomas harshly.
A dark veil settled on Y/N. She pressed her lips together, forbidding the words to pass and shrugged her shoulders dismissively. The words could no longer hurt her, at least that’s what she thought, but suddenly Y/N felt a slight burning sensation spreading through her heart as she realised how low her brother taught about her.
“Am I not right? The trench I was trapped almost killed me.” Thomas said. “And I will not speak of the land mines. I smell the stench of explosives in my worst dreams.” the dark-haired man in the suit continued.
John, Thomas and the others’ eyes wandered from Arthur to Y/N. A faint smile spread on her lips, had heard those words too often, was able to recite them.
“A woman is not able to face war and danger. While our lovely Y/N, sat here at home on her backside, warming herself by the fire, I risked my life for her safety. That’s why she’s a mere seamstress. The only danger you will face is that you might accidentally hurt yourself with the needle.” Thomas raised his voice.
A mischievous grin spread across his lips. Her blood was boiling. The walls crumbled. Anger mingled with sadness. Y/N gulped and stepped forward, pushed herself off the frame of the door and strolled towards the brothers. Y/N clenched her hands into fists, nails dug deep into the soft flesh. She breathed in and out and tried to calm herself down, but the fire rising in her chest couldn’t be extinguished.
“What are you trying to say, Thomas?” Y/N asked.
She took a step towards her brothers, focused her gaze on Thomas and ignored the others sitting at the richly set table.
“Exactly what I said. Women are.”, “Shut your goddamn mouth, Thomas.” Y/N hissed.
She stopped two steps away from the table. She had heard enough, knew perfectly well what he was trying to say, that she was a mere woman, weak and incapable of defending herself and facing the war.
“How can you be sure I was here? Were you here? How can you be so sure?” asked Y/N in a mocking tone.
“It’s all over your face,” replied Thomas dryly, leaning back with his arms folded in front of his chest.
“Then you are a blind man, Thomas. I was in France. I didn’t have a gun in my hand, but I have seen more of the war than you think. Children died in my arms and the men broke down crying. Y/N said.
Eyes widened. Skin paled.
“A bloody bomb went off next to my tent. I would have died that very night. I was in France, in Verdun and Somme in 1916 and later I worked in a hospital in London. Bombs killed more than dozens of my friends. I was on the same train as you, Thomas, when you were taken from France. You were asleep or maybe you have fainted. I stood right by your side and dabbed sweat from your temple and helped you to drink. I had to help you.” Y/N continued.
Colours slipped from the faces. Questioningly, the men in suits looked at the sister, but Y/N did not want to answer any of the questions escaping in low tones. Her heart broke. Tears obscured her vision, but Y/N saw clearly. The heaviness fell off her shoulders.
“I understand you more than you think, Thomas, yet who is the person who drinks to forget? You or me? The war shattered my heart. When you arrived from war, I stayed at your side. I was strong for you. I nursed you, but who was at my side when I needed someone?” Y/N asked.
There was silence. The last of the curtains dropped.
“No one,” Y/N whispered.
“I don’t ask anything of you in return. I don’t need to hear how great I am, but please stop portraying me as a woman who has been hiding. Please understand me, I didn’t tell you all because I knew you would talk me out of it and I knew I had to help the people. I have saved many lives.” Y/N continued.
Her voice broke into hundreds of pieces. She opened her heart, allowing them to hear the story they had never heard before. John’s mouth dropped open, unable to trust the words of his older sister, as did the others seated at the coffee table. The alcohol had faded out of their bodies and mist no longer dulled their minds.
“I’ll be on my way, the hazardous needles and pins await me and Thomas, your suit is finished. I hope you will like it. I’ll bring it in the morning. If you are looking for me, I will be in my room and do the work of a woman. I need to finish the coats. Good night.” Y/N said.
Silently the young woman walked away, ignoring the questions crossing the lips like a hurricane, pretending to be deaf to those spoken like crashing waves.
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blyanyanfckminiTalessandra97921-800-coffeemillies0bsimpmarvelwhoreunfortunatelyalessandra9792smailawaysummertimedepressionalldaysdreamerselliazemystic-gnome
