Laura Brown fic, 'Sorrowful Winter'
Sorrowful Winter
By Missbevcrusher
Rated K
Notes: This is a story I started writing ages ago. My aim was to explore who Laura was prior to the movie. It is a short fic, mostly a glimpse into a trying time in her life. I might write more of these and explore her journey prior to meeting Charles. Of course, I need to write more of Through Time & Seasons first, which I've been doing the past week or so.
Synopsis: It had been an awful winter…
It was snowing again, a light snow this time-fat, lazy snowflakes falling to cover the thick blanket already on the ground.
Everything was still, the air heavy and silent.
So silent…
On the porch, a shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders, stood a woman whose world had recently crumbled.
Though her eyes were directed toward the hibernating farmlands she called home, Laura Brown wasn’t really seeing the landscape. Her stare was vacant, empty-as empty as she felt.
For a fleeting moment, a quivering breath of sorrow left her mouth on a vanishing mist, a tiny, outward manifestation of the grief in her heart.
Physically and emotionally spent, she simply stood there, unmoving and numb.
I’m terribly sorry, Mrs. Brown… He’s gone. An echo, a memory so incredibly heartbreaking a part of her still could not believe it.
She was shivering, her nose and cheeks reddened by the cold.
It had been an awful winter thus far, so very difficult. They had been battered by storm after storm, and on those days when the sky had been clear, the temperatures had plummeted.
The season had taken a lot out of them over these past few months. And just a few days ago, it had taken a huge part of her life with it.
“Will…” His name left her lips as a trickle of tears fell down her face. Closing her eyes, Laura fought to keep it together, a faint whisper leaving her lips soon thereafter. “Why?”
Of course, she would never know the answer to this question. But she asked anyway because it was the only thing she could do.
A widow… she was a widow now.
Behind her, the front door opened on a creak, her mother’s voice immediately following. “You’re gonna make yourself sick standing out here in the cold.”
The older woman’s tone was softer than usual, the words not so much a reprimand but motherly concern.
Wiping her cheeks, Laura straightened and feigned being alright. “Just thought I saw something in the distance.”
It was a lie of course.
She had come out here to escape her memories-recollections she could not suppress whenever her eyes fell on Will’s belongings.
She would have to sort through his things soon, something she was dreading.
For a few moments, there was silence. But then, “I made tea,” her mother said.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Laura turned and gave a smile-one she knew was tinged with grief. “Thank you.”
Clutching her shawl, she followed her mother inside and was met by the warmth generated by the stove.
The kettle was already resting on a folded cloth beside two teacups on the table, steam rising from the spout in slow, lazy swirls.
Once the tea had been poured, the two women simply sat there, sipping in silence.
They stayed like so for several long moments until a sound finally broke the stillness.
Mary…
She had awoken from her nap.
When her mother started rising, Laura shook her head and gestured for her to stay and enjoy her tea. “I’ll go.”
In truth, she needed to see her daughter for the little girl was her everything, the sole reason she got up every morning.
For the past two nights, the tiny bed in the corner of her room had remained empty.
Out of a need to mask the emptiness of the bed she and Will had shared, Laura had allowed her little girl to sleep beside her.
It had been a great comfort and still was.
Slowing in the doorway, she watched as Mary stretched her little arms and legs, her body nestled between the pillows she had placed on either side.
Her heart clenching, Laura smiled behind a veil of tears.
This little girl was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen-had been from the very first time she had laid eyes on her.
As her daughter lingered between sleep and wakefulness, she made her way toward the bed and sat on the edge for a few moments before removing her shoes and stretching out as well.
“Mama.” Mary’s voice was soft and light, her eyes so full of gentle innocence as she reached for her mother.
With a kiss to the back of her little hand, Laura closed her eyes for a moment or two. “Mama’s here,” she whispered then looked to her once again.
Mary had so much of her father in her-light brown hair and a smile to melt hearts.
Running her fingers through the bouncy curls crowning her daughter’s head, Laura smiled once more. “You got those curls from me,” she whispered.
Seemingly comforted by her mother’s presence, the two year old settled down once more, snuggling close and closing her eyes.
Her maternal heart swimming in thankfulness for the gift that was this little girl, Laura kissed Mary’s forehead and closed her eyes as well.
Fate had been cruel to her, yes, but she needed to go on, if not for herself than for her daughter’s sake.
“We’re gonna make it, baby girl.” This whisper was a solemn promise, one delivered on a sigh as a tear rolled down the corner of her eye.
By Missbevcrusher
Rated K
Notes: This is a story I started writing ages ago. My aim was to explore who Laura was prior to the movie. It is a short fic, mostly a glimpse into a trying time in her life. I might write more of these and explore her journey prior to meeting Charles. Of course, I need to write more of Through Time & Seasons first, which I've been doing the past week or so.
Synopsis: It had been an awful winter…
It was snowing again, a light snow this time-fat, lazy snowflakes falling to cover the thick blanket already on the ground.
Everything was still, the air heavy and silent.
So silent…
On the porch, a shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders, stood a woman whose world had recently crumbled.
Though her eyes were directed toward the hibernating farmlands she called home, Laura Brown wasn’t really seeing the landscape. Her stare was vacant, empty-as empty as she felt.
For a fleeting moment, a quivering breath of sorrow left her mouth on a vanishing mist, a tiny, outward manifestation of the grief in her heart.
Physically and emotionally spent, she simply stood there, unmoving and numb.
I’m terribly sorry, Mrs. Brown… He’s gone. An echo, a memory so incredibly heartbreaking a part of her still could not believe it.
She was shivering, her nose and cheeks reddened by the cold.
It had been an awful winter thus far, so very difficult. They had been battered by storm after storm, and on those days when the sky had been clear, the temperatures had plummeted.
The season had taken a lot out of them over these past few months. And just a few days ago, it had taken a huge part of her life with it.
“Will…” His name left her lips as a trickle of tears fell down her face. Closing her eyes, Laura fought to keep it together, a faint whisper leaving her lips soon thereafter. “Why?”
Of course, she would never know the answer to this question. But she asked anyway because it was the only thing she could do.
A widow… she was a widow now.
Behind her, the front door opened on a creak, her mother’s voice immediately following. “You’re gonna make yourself sick standing out here in the cold.”
The older woman’s tone was softer than usual, the words not so much a reprimand but motherly concern.
Wiping her cheeks, Laura straightened and feigned being alright. “Just thought I saw something in the distance.”
It was a lie of course.
She had come out here to escape her memories-recollections she could not suppress whenever her eyes fell on Will’s belongings.
She would have to sort through his things soon, something she was dreading.
For a few moments, there was silence. But then, “I made tea,” her mother said.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Laura turned and gave a smile-one she knew was tinged with grief. “Thank you.”
Clutching her shawl, she followed her mother inside and was met by the warmth generated by the stove.
The kettle was already resting on a folded cloth beside two teacups on the table, steam rising from the spout in slow, lazy swirls.
Once the tea had been poured, the two women simply sat there, sipping in silence.
They stayed like so for several long moments until a sound finally broke the stillness.
Mary…
She had awoken from her nap.
When her mother started rising, Laura shook her head and gestured for her to stay and enjoy her tea. “I’ll go.”
In truth, she needed to see her daughter for the little girl was her everything, the sole reason she got up every morning.
For the past two nights, the tiny bed in the corner of her room had remained empty.
Out of a need to mask the emptiness of the bed she and Will had shared, Laura had allowed her little girl to sleep beside her.
It had been a great comfort and still was.
Slowing in the doorway, she watched as Mary stretched her little arms and legs, her body nestled between the pillows she had placed on either side.
Her heart clenching, Laura smiled behind a veil of tears.
This little girl was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen-had been from the very first time she had laid eyes on her.
As her daughter lingered between sleep and wakefulness, she made her way toward the bed and sat on the edge for a few moments before removing her shoes and stretching out as well.
“Mama.” Mary’s voice was soft and light, her eyes so full of gentle innocence as she reached for her mother.
With a kiss to the back of her little hand, Laura closed her eyes for a moment or two. “Mama’s here,” she whispered then looked to her once again.
Mary had so much of her father in her-light brown hair and a smile to melt hearts.
Running her fingers through the bouncy curls crowning her daughter’s head, Laura smiled once more. “You got those curls from me,” she whispered.
Seemingly comforted by her mother’s presence, the two year old settled down once more, snuggling close and closing her eyes.
Her maternal heart swimming in thankfulness for the gift that was this little girl, Laura kissed Mary’s forehead and closed her eyes as well.
Fate had been cruel to her, yes, but she needed to go on, if not for herself than for her daughter’s sake.
“We’re gonna make it, baby girl.” This whisper was a solemn promise, one delivered on a sigh as a tear rolled down the corner of her eye.