THE FRENCH KISSERS ― Thomas Shelby

30. love born from war

Rose swallowed, the lump in her throat weighing her shoulders down. "And if he volunteers?"

"He won't have the chance to. At the first rumor of war I will send him off to whatever place war can't reach, where armies and enlisting aren't an option. I rather he stays away but safe than having him near and see him broken down like us."

Because Thomas looked at his son like his world would end if he lost him, and because Rose knew hers would too, she said, "Me too. I'll help you."

Even if in the future Charlie ended up wanting to enlist and resenting them for not allowing him, that was still better than him losing that bright smile in some hideous conflict. And because Charlie had been exposed from early to the ugly scars war caused, Rose had a feeling he'd understand.

"I'm also afraid for France," she admitted, her heart tightening painfully at the thought of her beautiful home once again wrecked by the malice of men and the horrors of battle. "If there's another war, it's my country that's going to suffer. It always is."

With just one glance, Thomas figured out what she meant, always tuned in to her intentions and her fears. "And you will go back to help, because that's what you do. No matter how dangerous it is, or how much I'll ask you not to, you'll go and try to save as many people as you can."

"Yes," Rose said, relieved Thomas understood. But she did not expect what he said next.

"Then I will go with you," he muttered, staring deep into the creek as if he could see some version of the future on it. The water ran smooth, peaceful – would their future be like that too? Or would it rage, would it break against rocks, would it flood their dreams and turn them upside down and inside out until they were no longer dreams but nightmares? It was hard to tell, but with Thomas by her side, it was easier to face it.

"But it's not your country."

He snapped his head to her then, the blue in his eyes screaming. "But you are my life. You and Charlie and me family... I will do whatever it takes to keep you all safe."

Rose nodded, taking his hand and kissing over the back of it gently. She understood; she'd do the same for hers, which included Thomas and Charlie and their family too.

"Meanwhile, I want you to visit this place." Thomas reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, swiftly taking out a rectangular business card. The last beams of sunset caught on its edges, reflecting off the neat surface. Rose squinted, slowly reading over the silver letters. She recognized the name as a very expensive, very exclusive London doctor.

"This is a doctor," Rose said carefully, gauging his reaction. But Thomas simply nodded, watching Charlie collect pebbles to take home. "This is a doctor who treats politicians and nobles and possibly even King George. This is no doctor for me."

She couldn't imagine what kind of strings he had to pull to get a deal like this. Once again she felt grateful beyond words – that he had entered her life, that he had shaken it to its core, ripped it at every well-pruned edge, and that in the end, he had made it better.

"It is, now. It's taken care of." The way he pronounced each word, as if he was sure, as if he would do this and so much more for her – he probably would, because if it was the other way around so would she, and a small part of her was afraid to find out just how far they were willing to go for each other. They might end up burning the world in the process, if it meant the other was safe.

"Thomas—"

"I know you've lost hope, but there's a new, innovative treatment that focuses on nerve injury rehabilitation. I told the doctor about your case, and he said it was possible. He'd have to see for himself and run some exams, of course, but it is possible."

"Thomas, I—" She looked down at her arm, wondering. It was worse to have some hope and then have it cruelly taken away than to have no hope at all, yet looking at her numb arm, she realized she'd never lost that flicker of hope, and Thomas had figured it out and done something about it. For her. She felt so overcome with hope and joy and love for a moment she felt nauseous, as if her body was not big enough to contain all she was feeling. Still, she needed to be realistic about it. "It might not work. You can't spend so much money on something that might be useless."

"I can and I will." Thomas looked at her then, grasped her jaw, thumb drawing comforting circles on her cheek. "You'll play again, Rose. I'm sure of it."

She averted his gaze, so intense it made spring arrive early on her heart, the snow around it thawing, the winter it had been frozen in all but disappearing.

"What if I don't?" Her voice was a strangled thing, so fearful, so hopeful.

"Then at least you know you did everything in your power to try. But you will, I know."

Rose placed her hand over the one he had on her cheek, giving him back the words he whispered to her so long ago. "How can you tell, Thomas? You read my tea leaves?"

"No." Thomas brushed a finger over his nose, like he often did when he was trying to hide a smile. He remembered those words too. "But Polly did, and she saw you play. An orchestra behind you, all eyes on you. She said it was glorious, and she said it would happen sooner than we thought."

It fell down on her with the same force as gravity, inevitable and true: if Polly said it would happen, then it would.

She threw herself into Thomas' arms, already opened for her, and buried her face on his chest, right where his heart beat the loudest, right where the ouroboros would later be inked into.

"The first song I play again, be sure it's for you."

"Oh, I know." Thomas grinned then, that rare, wonderful grin of his that reached his eyes and swirled in the deep warm blues of them. "I intend for the last one to be for me too."

She kissed him then. She kissed him like the sky kisses the ocean each day at dusk: languidly, laced with longing, already craving the next moment they can touch again. Rose used to think that a love that came from war could only give them more war, but there, in Thomas' arms, feeling the warmth of him and the promise of their future together, seeing Charlie run to them and demand to be included in their hug, Rose realized a love born from war was actually fated for peace, for it had seen the worst of humanity and survived, so it was always meant to last.

It had been a long and arduous journey, but Rose Salvage had finally found her peace.

author's note.

I can't believe we reached the last chapter 😭 for a long time I thought I wouldn't be able to finish this story but I'm really glad I pushed through because after everything Tommy and Rose went through they deserved their happy ending ♡ 

I hope I managed to do the characters and their journey justice and that you enjoyed the ride as much as I did - as always please let me know your thoughts as I always love hearing from you!

thank you to everyone who read, voted and commented on this story and for sticking until the end, it truly means a lot. now all that's left is the epilogue and I'm also thinking of writing some extra scenes of their future, so regarding the next seasons, I was wondering if there are any particular scenes or characters you'd like to see Rose and the Kissers interact with? who knows, I might end up writing something with them so give me your ideas ;)