-A/N-

Fiddler on the Roof is definitely a musical that I am a fan of, both for the story and for the musical numbers it contains. Of course, in the 1971 movie version that I grew up with, the first act, which focuses on the courtship and eventual marriage of Tzeitel, was always easier to watch; but, the second act also has its strong musical numbers and character drama. In this fanfiction, I will be picking up where the original story left off with Hodel, the second daughter, and her trip to join her fiancé, Perchik, in Siberia.

Now, out of all the relationships, Hodel and Perchik's to me was always the most complex. They're the first two that break away from tradition and marry for love without the permission or involvement of a matchmaker (Tzeitel and Motel don't really count, seeing as they actually asked for Tevye's permission and probably wouldn't have gotten married without it), but then also the only lovers who get separated in the story. With Perchik as a passionate revolutionary, I definitely see their future as being the most complicated, given Russia's politics at the time, and I imagine that their confinement in Siberia would also make for an interesting story. So, in other words, theirs is the one that is most worth pursuing.

Of course, because of my love of Tevye and his family, they will eventually be brought back into the story, but it is unlikely that it will happen for some time yet, as the circumstances do not seem to suggest it in the film. A lot of things, I guess, are taken for granted, but not to worry, this story will have its share of good moments as well as angst.

I've decided to rate this story as M, because a lot of situations that the characters may find themselves in will be intense. Smut will also be present, when called for, and violence will definitely play a part. On those occasions, I will be posting additional warnings just in case, so no surprises there. Also, with regards to some of the mild racism that will be shown in this fanfiction, please note that it does not consist in my opinion at all, but is just a reflection of the view at the time. I promise, it won't be anything more intense than what the musical and movie has already shown. For personal considerations, I will tone it down where possible.

On that note, all in all, please enjoy!

1 - The Journey

Omsk, Southwest Siberia, October 1906

Looking back, Hodel knew that, while things had been much simpler in her life back when she lived with her family in Anatevka, she wouldn't change her current situation for anything in the world.

Since leaving her father standing on that quaint, wooden platform in November of the previous year, Hodel had gone through much, especially because she had remained alone throughout everything. Unfortunately, due to the fact that Jewish papers were under strict question at every station she arrived at, the young woman had been denied passage on further trains many times, sometimes just for "the principle of the thing" rather than anyone having any valid reason for expelling her. It appeared that, even though she was just headed to the harsh, remote wastelands of Siberia to join her love (in prison, if she had to), she wasn't allowed much freedom. The only people that usually got a quick trip to Siberia were prisoners, hence why Perchik's journey there had not been nearly as long.

Hodel hadn't expected this much trouble back when she'd assured her father that she and Perchik would be married under a canopy, that was for sure. Now, she had already gone past doubting that it would be able to happen, whether or not any rabbis were arrested and in prison as well. For, if just the officials at train stations and offices had been so rude and discriminatory towards her, she could be certain that the prison guards wouldn't be any friendlier or have any respect for Jewish traditions. For all she knew, perhaps she wouldn't even be able to marry Perchik before the year was out.

Her eighteenth birthday had been celebrated on a park bench in the cool, early October air, a bag of crackers on her lap and her only belongings in the world beside her inside a suitcase. A British man had attempted to speak to her briefly, perhaps to ask directions, but his Russian was terrible and Hodel hadn't been able to understand a word of it. Eventually, an officer had come by and directed him to the right place, but other than that, her day had been uneventful.

For about a month (she had arrived in Omsk at the end of August), Hodel had been straying from inn to inn, taking shelter and often being forced to lie about her religion and nationality so as to get a roof over her head. The meager funds that she had were already spent during the harsh winter she had endured after leaving home, and ever since springtime she had offered up work and services in exchange for room and board. Hodel was a good washer, seamstress, cook, and efficient at other household duties, so she had kept on in some places whilst demanding only the pay of food and shelter, a good enough deal as any to a poor innkeeper. However, after a while, certain innkeepers would get high-and-mighty ideas about the liberties that they might take with their staff and, a knee to the groin and nails to the face later, Hodel was out on the street again. By now having spent over a month on Omsk, she had exhausted all her options of poor innkeepers that would even consider her, and had to take to the streets.

Once every week, for it was useless to try more, she went back to the station and asked if a spot had been secured for her yet. She was truly running out of options now, as the weather was getting colder, and had no idea whom to turn to for help in getting her forward. Any ideas of marriage, though not of Perchik, were out of her mind—her only priority was to survive.

And to think, Tzeitel's journey to getting married was much simpler, Hodel thought, huddled on the same park bench for yet another day, her arms wrapped around her to help keep off the morning chill. But then, considering what happened afterward, I suppose that she's had her difficulties as well.

It was currently Friday, the day of the week in which she had taken to visiting the station but, as it was only nine in the morning, there was still an hour left before the offices opened, and thus she had to wait. With each night that she had to further endure sleeping outside, now coming to a total of five, Hodel grew colder and weaker and yet even more discouraged. Because of her youth, thank goodness, she managed to survive better than others might have, and because she had a thick quilt from home to wrap around her slim figure; but otherwise, it was hard to actually get to sleep, either for fear of the cold or of the dark of the night.

Truly, Hodel advised herself (and she did this often, to make up for lack of conversation and, in a way, keep herself company), if I do not secure myself a spot on the next train today, then I may be done for.

Of course, she was not as resigned to the idea of death as all that—if she had been, she might not have made it so far. But she was starting to recognize that it was a long way from home and, although she was in Siberia, Perchik seemed to be forever away as well. In either direction which she looked, she couldn't see a welcoming horizon, couldn't see a hope. By now, all that kept her going was stubborn determination not to show weakness in the face of adversity—Perchik never had, and so she never would either. If she wanted to be his wife, she must learn to stand proudly by him and share his ideals, always there to support him as a partner.

Standing up, Hodel picked up her bag with her left hand, reluctantly removing it from the warmer confines of her shawl. She was wearing her gloves, of course, but they had grown so thin and worn over the past year that they hardly served for decent warmth anymore. But right now, she had decided that she needed to walk around for a bit, even if it was only to keep warm for a little while longer. One more hour and then she'd be at the station, ready to face either the same rejection as before, or, God willing, a spot on the next train.

Last week was not like this at all, Hodel thought, remembering fondly how she had woken up on a lumpy mattress, her body enveloped in warmth and a roof over her head. She had been expelled Sunday morning after the Sabbath, and had since then been wandering around Omsk like Reb Nachum the beggar back home. The first three days, thank the Lord, had been pleasant and warm enough, thanks to the sun, but then the last two days had been just the opposite, cloudy and even with a touch of wind. Winter would soon be coming, there was no doubt about it.

It was colder in Siberia than back home, that was for certain. Why, in Anatevka around October, the harvest was at its best, with even her father, as a poor milkman, sharing in the profits. But in Siberia, the harvest was already over, and the cold was starting to settle in and make itself at home. It was no wonder that Siberia was called the "sleeping land"—in winter, everything, from the crops to animals like bears, slept, and so its winters must be very long and harsh. For Hodel, it would be her first winter in Siberia, and it was not something that she was looking forward to spending homeless and alone in Omsk. Her only option must be to get a spot!

Perhaps, if they refuse me this time, I can try and sneak on, Hodel thought, although of course this option had dire consequences. For instance, once they checked her papers, they might just send her to prison directly, and there was no guarantee that it'd be the same prison as Perchik. But then, perhaps, they might only send her to a local prison, and at least that counted as shelter, if anything. There were so many alternatives that Hodel had to consider that, even though the day had only started, she felt her head aching and wished nothing more than to try and get some sleep. Of course though, none would come.

To keep herself feeling at least neutral, she tried to think of pleasant things—things that wouldn't make her homesick, like the warmth of the sun on her shivering fingers, the sweet smell of the perfume she sniffed as a rich lady passed by her on the street, or of the solid feel of stones beneath her feet. All these things were safe things to think about—they were current, so they did not make her think of something unattainable like food, or, even worse, home. If she started to think about the things that she liked best in the world, they would all inadvertently lead her to thoughts of home, and homesickness was something that she vowed to get over a week into her travels.

I must be strong, I must be strong.

Those were her words to herself every night, her prayer to God, her only source of encouragement. Otherwise, she might have already given up...

It must now be nearing ten o'clock, she thought, and hastened to get to the station. From experience, she knew that it was best to get there as early as possible, when few people were around, as it was less likely for any of her belongings to get stolen in that case, or for her to lose her way in a crowd and end up listening in on conversations that she shouldn't. Both scenarios had happened to her before, and Hodel had learned her lesson on both occasions.

As it turned out, she had unconsciously been walking around the area of the station anyway, at a brisk pace, and so she arrived there quicker than she anticipated, still with ten minutes to spare before the doors were opened. Deciding to wait on the front steps, Hodel set her luggage down and began rubbing her hands together, hoping to generate warmth by the friction. Only ten minutes left, Hodel, she encouraged herself. Not too bad.

What she didn't know though was that every morning, the stationmaster actually came earlier than at ten o'clock, needing time to open more than just the main doors and, having gotten accustomed to the weekly presence of the "queer Jewish girl", he recognized Hodel right away as he approached the building.

Her again? he wondered, but he wasn't really surprised at her presence there. No, what he was surprised at was that she was still gullible enough to believe that he'd secured her a seat, when in fact he had done nothing of the sort. Just as new orders were being passed along to evict Jews from several villages were they were predominant that coming winter, in the same way it was looked down upon for anyone to give any hospitality to Jews. The only train that he would willingly put the girl on was a train headed out of the country, for which he was certain that the Tsar and his superiors would be grateful, but only if he repeated the action ten thousand times or so. As it was, one single Jewish girl wasn't going to make that much of a difference, and she was all that was available for him to exploit at the moment.

"Good morning, girl," he greeted. Hodel had told him her name before of course, many times, but he hadn't bothered to remember.

"Good morning, sir," she replied, not bothering to correct him yet again. For, in her mind, if she was lucky, then this would be the last time that she'd ever have to see the heavily-bearded, big-bellied, pompous, stale-smelling man. One thing she would credit him for was that he had never once tried to take advantage of her as certain others had, but then, he seemed to consider her no better than a parasite—one that only bothered him weekly, but a parasite nonetheless.

"I assume you're here to see if I've secured you a spot on that train?" he asked, starting off the game of cat-and-mouse.

Hodel nodded. She didn't dare to say anything, afraid that her voice might break if she did and give away how nervous she really was.

"Well, there's nothing," the stationmaster said, and then turned away from her and started walking up the stairs to the front door.

Hodel's spirits sank just as quickly as they had again managed to rise yet again that morning, her face showing hints of sadness once the man's back was turned and he couldn't see her. If she'd had strength to, she might've cried, but as it was, she just stood there, mute and helpless. But then, at the thought of another dreadful day and then night in the cold, sleepless and full of terror and aching, something burst open from Hodel's strong spirit, and she found herself chasing after the stationmaster, catching up to him only at the doorway, due to her weakened state.

"Sir, you must tell me why you cannot let me go," she insisted, quite out of breath, inhaling the cold air into her lungs painfully. "I have paid for a ticket after all, the same as everyone else, and today you have not even gone inside to check. Why is it that, as you have told me last time, 'no trains are going to take me anymore?'"

The stationmaster pursed his lips. He hadn't expected the girl catch on at all, or to be of any intelligence, but it appeared that even a poor country girl had some brains after a while. Not that it mattered, of course. There still wasn't anything she could do about it.

"You might as well get this straight, I suppose," he said. "You're not going anywhere, or at least not while I'm in charge. You think I want to get in trouble?"

"Why? Surely there's no law against an ordinary girl taking the train anywhere, is there?"

"'Ordinary?'" the stationmaster sniffed, and then, as he noticed a few people stop in the street to watch him, he scowled as he eyed Hodel. "Something like that. Listen, girl, no means no, and that's the last time I'm going to tell you! Now, if you know what's good for you, you'll stay out of this station and never come to me will fool questions like you have until now, understand?"

And then he left her standing alone, going so far as to slam the door in her face. Hodel thought it was alright—it wasn't anything that hadn't been done to her before. No, what really hurt was how betrayed she felt, not by the stationmaster, but by her own emotions. She had let hope get the best of her and had dared to dream that any day now she might be leaving. But instead, what had happened? She had spent over a month in Omsk and was now facing permanent homelessness if she didn't do something to help herself. It was clear that now wasn't the time to depend on others.

Which means that I'll have to go to to extremes, Hodel resolved, eyeing the spot where the stationmaster had last stood.

Just when did that next train leave, exactly?

-End Note-

Finally done with the first chapter, thank goodness, although I'm not sure how much of a relief it is to anyone. All I do know is that this chapter contains a lot of description, but I felt it necessary so as to explain everything that happened to Hodel since the time she left her family. Obviously, I tried to leave as few holes in her history as possible, at the same time while keeping things interesting.

As for the starting point of the story, it's when I figure that things will start to get extreme—almost a year after Hodel left, and thus around the time when she might get completely fed up and thus start compromising some morals—and from this point on become more and more interesting. Obviously, I didn't consider that her train ride "far from the home she loves" was worth describing, especially seeing as the hardest parts of her journey aren't over yet.

All in all, thank you so much to those who are reading, and please show support for this fanfiction in any way possible—through reviews, follows, or even favourites. It really does make a difference to us writers to know that people are actually reading our stories, so it would be much appreciated. There are always a few silent readers lurking in the shadows, but please, don't be one of them! With that in mind, the next chapter will be coming out soon, so prepare for more!