Stockings
Anne was never one to stand down a battle. She was currently faced with a vicious enemy and though she had already suffered many wounds to herself, she stubbornly continued to fight. With every move she felt herself more entangled than before and she knew not how to make it out whole. Blood trickled down her hands and stained her white shirt. The bruises done to her stung, but she would persevere, she had to. Her eyebrows furrowed as she eyed her enemy with all the contempt she could muster. It was a devilish beast, and she would conquer it. She must lest she suffer a terribly embarrassing defeat. But at what price? She thought as she once again was pierced by the enemy sword.
“Oh, Anne you are absolutely worthless!” Marian cried as she heard her sister wince for the hundredth time, Anne’s head shot up and she glared at her sister, but Ann let go of her needle and moved closer to Anne taking her hand in hers, looking at the many small bruises where her needle had prickled her skin.
“Poor dear.” Ann said but her lips twitched slightly as she tried to withhold a chuckle,
“I hate embroidery.” Anne growled and Ann laughed and then brought up Anne’s bleeding finger to her lips, kissing it.
“There, all better.”
“Whose idea was this?” Anne muttered, picking her needle up again, eying the tangled threads on her stocking and Ann smirked,
“Yours!”
“Mine? Why would I ever willingly do embroidery!?” Anne glanced at her wife and Ann bit her lip,
“Marian said you couldn’t, you said you weren’t allowed, she said that it was because you’re a coward, so then you absolutely had to – to prove her wrong.”
“Oh, yes.” Anne nodded, eying her needle suspiciously before trying to detangle her threads, but her patience was running out and she sighed dropping the whole thing in her lap.
“I can’t.” Anne mumbled and Marian gave her a look of triumph,
“What was that sister dear?”
Anne were about to bait and start an argument, but Ann calmly put down her own stocking that she was embroidering and took Anne’s from her lap.
“Come, I’ll help you.”
“It’s meaningless.”
“No, there is nothing we cannot detangle together.” Ann winked, and Anne snorted at her, her features finally softening a bit. Ann frowned at the tangled threads and began carefully to undo them.
“How can you be so patient?” Anne asked watching as her wife detangled her mess, and Ann smirked up at her,
“Well, I’ve had practice.”
“How?” Anne asked amused and Ann didn’t look up, but she was laughing quietly into her lap,
“Living with you, travelling with you.”
Marian snorted in her corner of the room, and Anne glared at her before turning her eyes back to her wife.
“Is that so?”
“Mm.” Ann replied, concentrating on a particularly hard knot in the mess of threads. Anne watched her wife in awe, she really was the sweetest thing especially with that concentrated look on her features. After many minutes Ann finally looked up with a pleased grin,
“There, all done. Make sure not to make such a mess of it again.”
“Thank you, Adney.” Anne smiled gratefully and accepted her stocking and needle back again. But as soon as she pointed her needle to the stocking Ann dropped her things again, placing her hands on hers.
“No, not like that, Anne, you will make a mess of it again!”
“I’m not that awful!” Anne protested and Ann grimaced,
“Let us just say that it was and is a good thing that you never wanted to become an accomplished lady according to societies depiction of that word.”
Marian were laughing properly now but Anne ignored her sister,
“Uh! I know how to use a needle; I have sown humans shut.”
“Yes, I don’t doubt that you have. But let’s thank God, that those people were already dead.” Ann smirked and Anne rolled her eyes at the blonde, barking,
“Embroidery and sowing is not the same thing.”
“No, I know – I just think you are really cute when you are upset.” Ann teased and Anne exhaled loudly,
“I’m going to leave and do something that actually matters.”
“Come on, Anne, it was a tease. Sit down! I’ll help you… besides you need to have a stocking hung on Christmas day and it can’t be spelt Anr just because you couldn’t finish the n properly and the e.”
Anne slumped down on the couch again, sighing,
“Fine… but it’s your fault if my hands are completely useless after having been stabbed a million times by that stupid needle.”
“Ah yes, what terrible fate if the great Anne Lister cannot write her journal for one day.” Marian’s eyes fluttered upwards as she spoke dryly and both Ann(e)’s eyes darted to her, and then the blonde eyed her wife seriously,
“You mean…?”
“Yes.”
“Fu…dge.” Ann blushed furiously, but took Anne’s hand in hers hurriedly,
“I’ll guide you through it.”
“Really?” Anne smirked and she let herself be guided by Ann, who gently held her hand in hers.
“Am I doing this right?” Anne asked as she tried to do exactly as Ann had showed her, and Ann’s eyebrows raised as she laughed kindly, shaking her head at her wife, helping her re-do the stitch, and Anne pouted,
“Can’t I just… can’t you just do it for me?”
“Anne… the whole point is to do it yourself…” Ann said amused and Anne made an effort to pout more, and Ann bit her lip, shaking her head, smiling at the brunette and suddenly they heard Marian groan loudly,
“Oh for the love of God, you even made embroidery flirty?”
Anne and Ann glanced at her and then at each other before bursting out in laughter,
“Ah, at this rate the stockings will hardly be finished by Christmas morning.” Marian sighed at them, and Anne composed herself slightly,
“But Christmas isn’t about everything being done to perfection but to be with those you love.”
“You’re just saying that because you suck at embroidery.” Ann teased and Anne gasped and stuck her tongue out, and Marian shook her head laughing,
“It’s like living with two five-year olds sometimes.”
Anne threw a thread roll at her sister, though it missed her and flew behind her, just as Aunt Anne entered. It only barely missed the woman, and she gave Anne a tired look,
“I thought we agreed after the needle accident of 1806 that you weren’t allowed to do embroidery anymore.”
Anne gave Ann a triumphant look,
“I told you so.”
Ann whacked her over the head, and her smug grin was replaced with a grimace,
“Ouch.”
“Serves you right!”
“Aunt! Did you see what she did!?” Anne cried, rubbing the back of her head and Aunt Anne rolled her eyes whilst shaking her head,
“Anne when I took you in some twenty-six years ago, I didn’t think I’d still have to mother you at forty-three.”
“I will not stand and be insulted in my own house.”
“You’re sitting down.” Marian murmured, but for once was unheard, but Aunt Anne smirked,
“Well then, my dear child, you are more than welcomed to go outside and sulk.”
“Unbelievable. This is why I hate Christmas.” Anne muttered to herself, standing up, throwing her stocking on the sofa and leaving the room, to tend to more important things. Who cares about hanging a stocking over the fireplace? Not at her age anyway, Anne thought bitterly as she ventured out to be of some use.