"Pain is the price of love."

Anne and Gilbert couldn't have asked for better weather for their picnic.

They'd both risen early that morning, getting ready quickly and disappearing out the door, too excited to stop and eat breakfast. Setting off on their individual paths, one in his cart, the other mounting her bicycle, they breathed in the fresh, warm breeze.

What a beautiful day. All the colours seemed brighter, almost too bright to bare - every leaf shining green, every flower petal vivid and striking, every stream or pond sparkling like diamonds. The sky was cerulean blue, dusted by puffy clouds. Anne's bicycle wheels whirled beneath her, her plaits blowing back from her face which beamed with a smile she couldn't contain.

Reaching the crossroads, Anne didn't have to wait long before Gilbert appeared up the road, failing to conceal his excitement as he waved. Anne laughed at his goofy behaviour. Anne looked radiant, her cheeks pink and her freckles darkened by Summer. She was wearing her new dress which Matthew had brought for her birthday. Gilbert helped Anne secure her bike in the back of his cart beside the picnic basket before offering his hand to help her climb up to the seat.

"Goodmorning, my beautiful girl." Gilbert greeted, putting on a serious expression he knew Anne would enjoy.

"Good day to you, fine sir." Anne assumed the same pompous manner.

"May I say how splendid you look, ma'am?"

"May I ask, have you done something to your hair?" Anne inspected, her bright eyes missing nothing.

Gilbert blushed, his hand going to his unusually smooth curls. "What? No--"

"You've brushed your hair! Did you put something in it too?" Anne grinned mercilessly, reaching her hand to ruffle it. "Heavens, Gil."

"I haven't. Why would I do that?" Gilbert set his jaw and looked away, so as not to give himself away. His hand touched his hair, ensuring it was in the same state as before Anne's disruption.

"Well anyway, it looks very smart..." Anne bit her lip, trying not to giggle. "James was very kind to lend you his hair oil."

Gilbert was nonchalant. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, carrots."

"Hey!" Anne exclaimed.

Gilbert was too quick. He tugged gently on her plait. "It's like old times."

"You're wicked!" Anne cried, batting his hands away as he laughed. "I shouldn't wear my hair this way around you, you're incorrigible."

"You haven't worn it that way in a long time," Gilbert commented, stealing side glances. "I rather like it."

"It keeps my hair out of my eyes, I don't do it for you." Anne scolded, her stubborn chin tipped up in the way Gil loved. "It is cruel to mock my red hair when you know very well it is a sore point I shall nurse throughout life despite acquiring a great deal more self-confidence since the last time."

"I'm sorry, I should know better than to comment on your hair, let alone touch it. After all, I'm lucky there's no slates around." Gilbert's grin was irresistible.

Anne laughed. "Very lucky indeed, Mr Blythe."

She wove her hand into his arm and held on tight as he steered the reins of his horse up the road to the hill. This was going to be a good day, she just knew.

...

Cole was not having a good day. He was tired.

Tired of his parents, the way they treated him and acted like he was an embarrassment. The way his Father shouted at him and the way his Mother spoke like he was a disappointment and a waste of space. Tired of never getting any time to do what he enjoyed... Now school was finished and he hadn't taken the exam, he was truly stuck at home. He had no escape. All he could do was work the farm day in, day out. He missed escaping to school and learning, seeing his friends, making art.

That day in the field he'd been weeding a plot of vegetables, sitting on his knees and thinking as always of what he'd rather be doing. He'd rather be travelling to Europe, seeing the sights he'd seen in one of Miss Stacey's books. The beautiful buildings and rivers and glamorous people at the beaches and museums... better yet, to an art college filled with open-minded musicians and painters, people who had new, groundbreaking ideas about the way things are and how they should be.

Surely he'd fit in somewhere like that...

There was something else he couldn't stop thinking about... a certain young man; that pair of bright eyes sparkling beneath a fringe of honey-coloured curls... the feel of him sitting beside him, his thigh bumping up against his, the sound of his laugh, that crease in his cheek as he smiled.

Cole couldn't get Edward out of his head.

"Stop thinking about him," Cole muttered to himself, pulling up a weed at the roots. "It's no use..."

Edward certainly didn't like Cole that way, likely didn't think of any boys that way. Besides, there was no chance for them, even if he did feel the same - not in Avonlea of all places. Cole dreaded what his parents would think and knew nobody would accept that he had feelings for a man. It was wrong, he knew that from church. Nobody did that... But it didn't feel wrong, it felt like how it was supposed to feel when you like somebody, just how the girls at school described their crushes.

Cole felt that he was a freak, he didn't belong with the boys or the girls. He was different, weird. He wished he could be just like everyone else. Cole hated that he felt these things, but he couldn't stop himself. He'd looked at girls and tried to convince himself that he liked them and how they looked but he didn't... not that way.

Not the way he couldn't help but picture Edward's hand in his: imagine how it would feel, soft or scarred, warm or cool; and the sound of his breath catching in his throat if he kissed him, the ache finally relented; what his lips would taste like; if Edward would kiss gently or hard, if he'd touch Cole's hair or cup his face and deepen the kiss --

"Stop thinking about him!" Cole cursed.

...

It was very unlike Matthew Cuthbert to be idle for long, yet there he was standing in the doorway to Anne's bedroom.

Marilla had brought up a bundle of folded clothes for Anne to pack when she'd spotted him. She froze, staring, hardly believing it. She couldn't see his expression but she could guess it wasn't happy. Whatever could he be doing? Anne was out with Gilbert, there was no need to visit her room.

"Matthew, is anything the matter?" Marilla asked her brother, the floor creaking as she stepped forwards.

Turning with a jerk, Matthew wiped at his eyes. "What? Well now, no. I was only-- no, nothing's the matter."

Then he was gone in the blink of an eye, hastening downstairs to escape to the barn or the fields where he could hide his face, his feelings, his breaking heart. The truth was he would miss Anne terribly when she was gone, more than he'd ever admit to aloud. The truth hurt.

...

The spot Gilbert had picked was somewhere Anne had never visited, but Diana had recommended - Rulle Hill.

They parked the cart at the bottom by a white picket fence and tied their horses to graze while they walked up the narrow dirt path fringed by bleached grass and overgrown wild flowers. Anne's skirts dragged in the undergrowth and her fingers skimmed the tops of the meadowsweet. Gilbert held tight to her hand, carrying the basket with his other. They reached the top of the hill breathless and proud of their hard hike, Anne tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and Gilbert anticipating her reaction to the view. It was sweeping, a painting in every direction, beautiful and saturated by the Summer heat and blooms.

Anne stood gazing out, catching her breath, hand resting on her leg which probably still gave her grief when she hiked. Anne was agape; speechless for once.

Gilbert grinned as she walked out and took it all in, her eyes barely blinking in case the whole scene shattered like a broken dream. The wind picked up and blew her braids about against her back, a warm breeze ghosting her skin. Anne reached up her hands into the sky and cried out, full of joy and awe.

Anne looked back at Gilbert and saw his long black curls blowing into his eyes. He squinted and pushed them back, laughing as she ran to him. Anne took his dear face in her hands, feeling the scruff along his jaw and kissed him, her fingers weaving through his soft hair, dragging it back and tugging it gently. Gilbert laughed into the kiss, his hands going to her waist to pull her closer. Anne felt tingles in her chest as his hands held her, as his chest pressed against hers. Gilbert dug his fingers into her waist gently and Anne giggled helplessly. Suddenly Gilbert began to tickle her. Anne squealed and tried to escape his grip but he caught her again easily.

"Stop! Gil, don't--" Anne screamed with laughter.

Mercilessly they struggled with each other, laughing and crying out. Lost in their game they tripped and stumbled to the floor, Gilbert lying on his back, chest heaving and Anne on top of him, her head on his shoulder as she tried to catch her breath. They met each others gaze, eyes starry, cheeks hurting from laughing.

Gilbert wrapped her up in his arms and pulled her down beside him, nestling like two foxes burrowing for a winters nap. Anne rested her hand on Gilbert's cheek, her thumb under his chin. She could feel his pulse, his heart leaping hard and fast, from laughing so much she thought. She didn't guess it was because of the way she was looking at him...

"Sometimes I can't quite believe that I get to do this after so long - to hold you, and kiss you and -- and tell you that I love you, more than anything." Gilbert whispered, barely audible but Anne heard every word, caught them up and saved them in her memory forever.

Anne traced his cheekbone with her finger and her thoughts wandered. "It will be the last time in so long..." Anne's heart sunk and their smiles slipped like the sun behind a cloud.

They shivered and leant closer together as a chill went down their spines. For a moment, everything seemed dark and the world very large and daunting... Every uncertain thing waiting in their future, every stranger and unfamiliar place loomed like a dark shadow... they always said they'd face these things together and after everything they'd been through it had been a comfort to know that they would -- it was frightening to be going alone now.

Anne and Gil gazed at each other and they knew the same fear was a flickering flame in both their hearts, growing bigger until it threatened to swallow the happiness they might have waiting too.

Next thing they knew the sun was back and their fears shrivelled up, the flame was smaller. They knew it would always be like that - the dark and the light together, one never far from the other and the light seeming ever so much more precious when proceeded by the dark.

"Well then we'd better make the most of it then." Gilbert had a smile laced in his voice.

...

"How was your picnic?" Marilla asked Anne when she came in that evening.

The sun had set as Anne and Gil had taken the cart back down the red dirt lanes, half asleep in a heavy dream of love yet fatigued in the idea of separating for so long. As the sky burnt violet and umber, spiderwebbed by twisting blossom branches and darting birds, they reached Green Gables. Their parting had been simple, Gilbert helping Anne down and their usual prolonged gaze, a squeeze of a hand and then... goodnight.

"Truly, completely - wonderful." Anne hung her hat on her peg by the door and took off her boots. She smelt dinner cooking. "Gilbert had made us sandwiches and picked raspberries and he even brought apple juice from his orchard -- did you know he makes it? How terribly clever is that?! I suppose he gets Bash and James to help, it must be one hell of a task... It tasted ever so sweet, just as his apples always do. You know that was one of the first things he said to me - he offered me an apple from his orchard. He said they were real sweet, just so. He didn't lie! Oh, I was such a silly stubborn thing then. Wouldn't it be splendid to have an orchard? There are so many possibilities for an orchard."

Marilla smiled knowingly, her eyes glittering. "I dare say whoever marries Gilbert should own that orchard too, as a Blythe."

"You're right," Anne went about setting the table as Marilla stirred the pot of soup. "Though I don't suppose Gilbert will want to live on the Blythe farm forever, you know. It holds many bad memories, and there's ever so much farm work to do. Gil doesn't want to be a farmer. He'll want to move somewhere different, to form his own Doctors practice one day I expect - I don't mind though, we can always plant our own orchard when we --"

Anne stopped all of a sudden and went bright red. Marilla bit her tongue, smiling indulgently. Anne hadn't meant to reveal her private fantasies of living with Gilbert and her future of married life with him. To hide her face she busied herself laying cutlery but kept clattering them on the table clumsily.

"Did you know he wants to be a Doctor?" She changed the subject quickly. "How grand is that? He took the exam to study it properly, although he's gained a lot of experience with his apprenticeship. He said he's always wanted to be a Doctor - it's his dream. He's so determined and I know he studies hard, he was such a challenging academic rival in school... I know he'll do just fine."

"Well, that is wonderful. I'm so glad he's chosen his vocation and decided to follow his dream. His Father would be proud of him." Marilla brought over the pot to serve. "So he won't be attending Queens, with you - how do you feel about that?"

"I'm not ecstatic." Anne was glum again. "I have plenty of familiar friends and dear accomplices on this venture, although it is a tragic shame we won't share such an important stage of our lives with one another. I had hoped... well, never mind."

"I'm certain you shall share a great deal."

"I suppose you're right. It's hard to remain positive when so much is changing and you will be separated from your dearest ones for months on end - save Diana of course! Oh Marilla, it brings such an aching sadness in my chest I feel like I couldn't bare the parting... it's not forever, I know but it awfully feels so, don't you agree?"

Anne paused to sigh deeply and gaze dreamily out the window into the growing dusk.

Then she smiled and snapped back to reality. "But positivity is a necessity for a college student! I suppose Gil would only serve as a distraction anyway as we'd rather spend every spare moment together rather than studying. This way I can focus. I'm determined to keep my head up and get the top of my class!"

"I'm glad you have such ambitions, but don't overwork yourself, will you?" Fretted Marilla.

"You mustn't worry! I'll make time for rest and play or I'll surely go barmy." Anne frowned. "Matthew won't be happy about all this either, I know it eased his mind to know Gilbert was going too. Where is he, anyway? He's usually in for dinner on time."

Marilla's smile fell as she remembered her encounter with Matthew that afternoon. "He's out in the barn. He'll be in shortly I expect, I called him in before you got back."

"Oh, he's awful late! I wonder why he's taking so long? Perhaps he lost track of time. I'll fetch him." Anne was hastening on her boots and disappearing out before Marilla could protest.

Matthew was trying to keep busy in the barn, fixing an old garden bench for a neighbour. He was hungry but he couldn't face coming in. All of a sudden it had sunk in that Anne would be gone soon. She had grown up and the golden years of her childhood living at Green Gables and being around every day to sing and chatter and get up to mischief were over. How would he cope with the silence? The empty days?

"Matthew! Dinner is ready." Anne appeared at the barn door, her bright figure like a ghost in the darkening evening.

Matthew didn't reply, merely grunted and continued his work. Anne frowned, not used to Matthew ignoring her.

"What are you making?" Anne asked, approaching.

"Just fixing this up for the Williams family." His voice was quiet and emotionless.

"Aren't you hungry?"

"I'll be in when I'm ready." Matthew said bluntly.

Anne felt like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over her. This was so unlike him, so polar opposite to their usual relationship and interactions. She didn't know what to say or how to react. She felt like a scolded child, who's parent was angry but she didn't know what for. What had she done to upset him?

...

Edward spent the last days of Summer with his Father.

As his Father's health declined, they spent more time together in the garden beneath the blossom reading and playing cards, or sitting on the porch when his Father got too ill to move far. His Father recounted stories of his youth, stories of Edward's late Mother and of when Edward was young. Edward found he saw a new side to him, a vulnerability and honesty.

Eventually, as the Summer waned and Autumn began to tinge leaves gold Edward knew it was time. There was a chill in the air and his Father struggled more each day. Edward would remember the day his Father passed as clear as crystal. The way the door creaked as he entered his Father's room, the temperature of the cup of tea he was holding, the sensation of shards of broken China bursting outwards against his legs as he dropped it. The splash of tea on the floorboards. The birds singing outside the open window. The sun beams shining on his Father's face, peaceful and content.

...

As soon as Gilbert woke he rode straight to the post office. It was the day... the day the letters were due to come.

There was a skip in his heart the entire journey. The sun was as determined to shine as the leaves were to hang onto their greenness, the warm breeze ruffling the branches and showering by-passers with snow flurries of blossom petals. The town was bustling with life despite the early hour as Gilbert trotted down the road, ruffling white petals from his curls. The bell chimed when he entered the post office.

"Good morning!" Gilbert was eager, bright eyed with a hint of apprehension as he was handed his letter.

What if he didn't--? No, it didn't bare thinking about.

"I'm also here to pick up a letter for a Miss A Shirley Cuthbert, she's expecting one. Thank you, ever so much. Good day!"

Then it was back down the road, as quick as he could make it. He couldn't wait a moment longer than he had to. The wait was agonising. What if I didn't get i--? Don't think about that! Just think about reaching her and giving her the letter, seeing her face light up!

Wait, that's her--

"Anne!" Gilbert pulled on his reins as Anne whizzed passed him on her bike, whistling loudly. "Anne, wait up!"

He steered his horse around and galloped after her, townsfolk staring at them, left in a cloud of dust. Anne knew he was following and kept going, speeding along the road through an avenue of trees, laughing and throwing jibes back.

"Too slow, Gil! You'll never catch me!"

"Come back!" Gilbert groaned, laughing. "I have something for you!"

Anne slowed and put on her breaks, Gilbert riding around her and trotting in circles to slow his horse. Anne was panting and grinning, glowing as she looked at him. She wore a pale green cotton dress with tiny pink flowers stitched on the collar. Her hair was tied back in a low ponytail, loose curls escaping as it was hastily thrown out of her face for the ride.

Gilbert dismounted, levelling her with that intense gaze, a slight smirk tugging his lips at the corners. "You do like to keep me on my toes! I'm glad I've finally caught you."

"Not yet you haven't!" Anne stuck out her tongue and darted past him, leaving her bike leaning against a tree.

"Hey!"

Gilbert hastily tied his horse to the same tree as Anne disappeared through a cluster of trees. He followed her laughter, his hand tightly gripping the letters in his jacket pocket. He was close, he could hear her behind that tree...

"Gotcha!" Gilbert cried, jumping out and making Anne descend into giggles.

"What did you want to give me?" Anne asked after her laughter had subsided.

Gilbert slowly pulled out her letter, his eyes dancing over her face as it transformed from a soft, content smile into wide-eyed surprise and anticipation. She lunged for it instinctively but he held it out of reach, grinning. Anne snatched for it but Gilbert was too quick.

"What? You want this? Why, it's not important, is it?"

"Cease and desist, Blythe or I'll be forced to stoop to low levels of coercement."

Anne had her hands on her hips and Gilbert had a sudden image of Anne as a Mother, firm but fair, telling off their child. He was dazed for a moment at this image which came into his head and took over everything else.

"I mean it! The lowest kind!"

Then Gilbert snapped back with a smile and a witty remark. "What kind of coercement would that be, Shirley?"

Anne stepped closer. "The kind that leaves the victim utterly defenceless."

"That doesn't sound too bad." Gilbert winked.

"Oh, I'm sure it would be preferable to this!" Anne shoved him and grabbed the letter from his hand.

Gil was stunned for a moment but had very quick reflexes and caught her other wrist as she tried to run away. Gilbert spun her around until they were nose to nose.

"Naa, I think I'll settle for that coercement you mentioned." Gilbert whispered, his mouth so close her lips--

"Shut up, you fool." Anne laughed, pushing him off.

"Don't you wanna open the letters--?" Gilbert's tone was sarky as he held up the letters he'd stolen back without her noticing.

Anne gasped. "You're such a pain."

Anne grabbed hers and looked down as she opened it. Gilbert looked down too and their foreheads touched as Anne ripped the envelope. Gil watched Anne's grey eyes scan the words and her expression transform into elation.

"I GOT IN! I got in, oh Gil -- I don't believe it!!" Anne screamed, breathless and wide eyed.

"Yes!" Gilbert cried out and squeezed her tightly in a hug.

"I'm going to Queens!" Anne was trembling with shock in his arms. "I'm really going!"

Gil cupped her face. "I'm so proud of you! I knew you'd get in."

Anne's eyes beamed pure love and gratitude. "Open yours, oh Gil do! We must know--"

Gilbert blinked, almost hesitant. The envelope was open in seconds, the letter unfolded in his fingers. He skimmed down through the letter to the words -- accepted. He was attending medical school. His dream was coming true!

"I'm going. Accepted. I'm going-- it's really happening. I got in!"

Gilbert picked up Anne and span her round in the little avenue of trees with the sun all around them and their hearts hammering in time.

Anne thought afterwards that, like every moment with Gilbert, this was one of those moments in her life she would remember forever with crystal clarity and treasure like the well-worn pages of a favourite book, kept safe in her mind to revisit.

It was bittersweet. Pure undiluted happiness and a fierce pride for one another, mixed with apprehension for what to come and their inevitable seperation. Their dreams were coming true, their paths were forking for the time and their futures changing.

Anne had no idea yet what awaited her at college, but if she did she perhaps wouldn't be so excited... of course there would be challenges, academic achievement and satisfaction, new friends and good times with old friends of course... but there would also be several unfortunate reunions with some particularly undesirable characters.