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intheheartTitle: Sacrament
Rating: G.
Summary: For Hugh, church is an obligation.
Notes: In this AU, Joanna is Church of England. Only way I could make it work, sorry. :/
When Hugh was a child, church was an obligation. It has not become less so as an adult. The vicar is longwinded, the pews are hard, the altar plain. There are a thousand things he would prefer to do, were it not politic for the local physician to be a religious man.
He is, as it happens, a very religious man. He believes in God with an unshakeable faith—was not his child spared to him? Was not he granted the company and love of the dearest woman he has ever known?
He just has difficulty linking God with church.
--
Joanna adores it. He isn't sure why. She certainly shares his opinion of the vicar, and she sits on the same pews he does, looks at the same altar. He thinks she must see something different.
He looks at her face in church, and she is rapt, beautiful, her eyes closed and her hands clasped over her Bible. She prays with all her soul.
He wonders sometimes if she is an angel. His angel, as she must be—she is not his wife, but she has chosen him nonetheless.
He wonders sometimes if there is anything else she could be.
--
They walk home afterwards arm in arm, Joanna's head against his shoulder. She is humming still, Christ, whose glory fills the skies, they'd sung it that morning.
He loves her so much, more than he can ever say. It isn't that he doesn't want to; he simply doesn't have the words. She is perfect, angelic, the surest proof he has ever had (besides Olivia) that God exists, that God loves him. That she is his is a miracle beyond the asking. He tucks her closer to his side.
She is his church, his altar, his sermon. He needs nothing more.
Rating: G.
Summary: For Hugh, church is an obligation.
Notes: In this AU, Joanna is Church of England. Only way I could make it work, sorry. :/
When Hugh was a child, church was an obligation. It has not become less so as an adult. The vicar is longwinded, the pews are hard, the altar plain. There are a thousand things he would prefer to do, were it not politic for the local physician to be a religious man.
He is, as it happens, a very religious man. He believes in God with an unshakeable faith—was not his child spared to him? Was not he granted the company and love of the dearest woman he has ever known?
He just has difficulty linking God with church.
--
Joanna adores it. He isn't sure why. She certainly shares his opinion of the vicar, and she sits on the same pews he does, looks at the same altar. He thinks she must see something different.
He looks at her face in church, and she is rapt, beautiful, her eyes closed and her hands clasped over her Bible. She prays with all her soul.
He wonders sometimes if she is an angel. His angel, as she must be—she is not his wife, but she has chosen him nonetheless.
He wonders sometimes if there is anything else she could be.
--
They walk home afterwards arm in arm, Joanna's head against his shoulder. She is humming still, Christ, whose glory fills the skies, they'd sung it that morning.
He loves her so much, more than he can ever say. It isn't that he doesn't want to; he simply doesn't have the words. She is perfect, angelic, the surest proof he has ever had (besides Olivia) that God exists, that God loves him. That she is his is a miracle beyond the asking. He tucks her closer to his side.
She is his church, his altar, his sermon. He needs nothing more.
