A/N: Thank you so much to Guest for these little bits of inspiration that will be most likely be turning up as fanfiction in the next couple of days. I wish I could have private messaged you myself to give you my appreciation but the website won't let me so... Thank you anyway though, I'm really grateful for the help :)
Oh yeah, and I don't own The Book Thief.
It could have been avoided.
If Liesel's fingers hadn't been aching so badly for the crusty, yellow pages of a book, it wouldn't have happened.
If the crisp taste of thievery wasn't hanging so obviously in the autumn air, it wouldn't have happened.
And most of all, if that saukerl Rudy hadn't insisted on coming along in case there were any more biscuits left in the library, it certainly wouldn't have happened.
It could have been avoided. Easily. If only Liesel wasn't Liesel, and Rudy wasn't Rudy. But, as fate would have it, Liesel wanted another book, Rudy wanted biscuits, and the events of the day unfolded accordingly.
What a shame.
* The Truth About Life That You Most Likely Already Know *
It's not fair.
I never said the truth was a secret.
That morning, Liesel awoke to a day that wore a gown of gold and red. Her hands fidgeted for the heavy cover of a new, undiscovered book and the delicious words inside, and the dull heartbeat of a football thudding against the wall outside brought a wonderful grin to her face.
Yes. Today was a perfect day for a theft.
She got up, pulled on her clothes and headed downstairs and outside, calling a swift excuse to Rosa and Hans, sat in the kitchen eating breakfast.
The sky was an acidic blue, a personal favourite of mine, with buttery yellow and white clouds. The trees were clothed with a thick mess of tangled, auburn leaves. In all earnesty, it was a beautiful day.
Liesel wandered along the various streets of Molching, blinded by the blanched concrete and enjoying the warm, heavy weight of sunlight on her face. It was one of those rare pockets of gold as summer was ensnared and devoured by another frosty winter.
Liesel loved Autumn. The sound of leaves crunching under the soles of her boots reminded her of the turning of a page; the rich texture of the season bound her up like the leather that encased a book. Autumn was by far a favourite.
For some reason, she never really admitted this. It seemed like such a 'girl' thing - sighing over the seasons as they bloomed then died away like a burst of accordion bellows - and something that would most likely be ridiculed by Rudy.
'You haven't gone all soft on me, have you saumensch?' He would have said scornfully, earning him a cuff around the head and a 'saukerl' from her.
* Something Rudy Would Probably Deny If Asked *
His favourite season was Spring.
Why?
He had a soft spot for flowers.
I guess we had more in common than I thought.
As Liesel headed along the road that headed to the Amper River, she heard the sound of running feet. Sure enough, when she turned, she found Rudy speeding towards her, a look of pure determination on his face. She waited patiently for him to catch up, and he drew to a strangled halt in a mess of leather and gravel in front of her, a triumphant grin plastered on his face,
'Where do you think you're going?' he asked breathlessly, his hands clutching his hips. The image would have looked a lot more authoritative if the boy wasn't doubled over for oxygen. Liesel forced down a smile.
'Do you really need to ask?'
'No, not really,' he conceded. 'Let me rephrase that. Where do you think you're going without me?'
Liesel sighed and shook her head. 'Of course. How could I have possibly forgotten you?' she said sarcastically.
'That's a good question. You love me far too much to just leave me behind,' he grinned smugly.
'In your dreams, Steiner.'
'So what is it this time?' Rudy asked, looking down the road towards the familiar sound of rushing water. 'Books, I assume.'
She threw a disdainful glare at him, but it cracked almost instantly and a mischievous grin took its place.
'I knew it,' he said with a satisfied smirk.
'Why did you come Rudy?' she said impatiently, pacing from foot to foot a little.
'What, you'd think I'd miss out on some good stale biscuits?'
She rolled her eyes. 'Well come on then. You're wasting precious thieving time.'
His expression turned serious and he nodded solemnly, as if swearing an oath. They set off at a quickened pace, a new determination biting at their heels.
The river was painted with watery brushes of red and dark yellow, distorted by the rippling sky. They looked out over the pristine water as they crossed the bridge, but paid it no heed. The words she hadn't discovered yet stuck in her throat, yet to be released, yet to be heard. It made her head sting with anticipation.
* Duden Dictionary Definition *
Bibliophile
Noun
A person who loves or collects books,
especially as examples of fine or unusual printing, binding, or the like.
They reached the mayor's house after several minutes of walking. The thick black teeth of the front gates grinned down at them. The house sat behind, a squat, sophisticated mound of brick, cement and Venetian glass.
'Through the window?' Rudy said.
'As always.'
They slipped through the gates as soon as it was established that the windows would remain empty of any unwanted spectators. Liesel headed around the side of the house, Rudy trailing behind. The window was open, just a crack, so that Liesel could taste a slice of the delicate, dusty pages from where she stood underneath.
Rudy stood beside her expectantly. 'Go on then.'
'Help me up, arschloch, and maybe I could.'
Muttering various German expletives, he knelt down, holding her foot in both hands and pushing her upward.
'Christ, you're heavy,' he grumbled.
'You about done?' she called from above him as she pushed the window further open.
'I had more,' he said cheerfully.
'Just shut up and stay out of sight.'
Liesel slid through the gap between the clear panes into the room she loved so much, the room that she belonged in yet didn't belong to her. The walls positively breathed books, massive lungs built from the rough spines of long forgotten fables. Oh, how she wished she could breathe through those heavy, bittersweet organs.
Her fingers ran along the bumps and ridges of the engraved titles as words flicked through her head. Finally, she settled on Beneath the Ashes. It had a cover of deepest blue, a colour not yet in her collection.
'Hurry up, saumensch!' came Rudy's savage whisper from out the window.
She headed for the window, dropping the book to Rudy and climbing down from the ledge. They set off at remarkable speed, Rudy still clutching the mound of paper and cardboard in his hands. Only when the house far out of reach, and the sound of water flooded their ears again did they slow down, clinging to the acute pain in their aching ribcage.
'No biscuits then?' Rudy asked between gasps, running his hands through his lemon hair.
'Not that I saw,' she said.
'Come on, let's go home.'
He tossed the book to her and she caught it. They set along the road towards the bridge, a buzz of giddy excitement and exhaustion suffocating them with every step.
In all honesty, it could have been avoided. If Liesel wasn't Liesel, and Rudy wasn't Rudy, they would have been tucked away safely at home, possibly playing a game of fierce football, and not been getting themselves into fights. But as fate would have it, none other than Victor Chemmel was heading down the very same road with his bunch of his friends.
Hide. Most people who actually had a shred of sense and dignity clinging to their head would hide. And there were oh so many adequate places to do so. Liesel was already eyeing up the bushes at the roadside, when Rudy barged past her, nearly knocking her over. She watched in confusion as he marched straight into the face of the beast.
'What do you think you're doing, saukerl?' Liesel whispered through gritted teeth. 'You're going to get us killed!'
He continued on, an expression of determined anger set in stone on his face. Liesel followed him, hoping to dissuade this painfully obvious act of stupidity, but no words cracked the ice that had him frozen over.
'Well, well. The little boy and his whore. It surely is a pleasure to see you again,' Chemmel's voice drawled out lazily. He stood before them, towering and large like a bear.
Rudy didn't reply. He simply glared up at him with all the hatred he could wrench from his bones.
'How's the book? What was it called, The Whistler?' Liesel tensed up a little. 'I'm sorry, I didn't quite reach the ending. But then, I suppose you didn't either.'
His laugh was messily cut from his stomach when Rudy's fist made harsh contact with his gut. It barely made an impact - why would it, Rudy was half his size - but it was enough to send the beast into a rage.
He grabbed Rudy and practically tossed him to his friend. 'Keep him still, boys. This one's a struggler.'
Rudy's flailing fists were separated and bound behind his back with a strong grip. Chemmel stepped forward, his face ugly with malice, and threw a punch that could wipe an adult out. Rudy let out a cry of pain but still looked into his eyes with defiance blooming at the core. Liesel watched in horror as her friend was beaten.
'Stop!' she yelled, 'Stop it! Don't hurt him!'
As it turned out, Victor was only planning to throw a few punches, just to teach the kid a lesson. If Liesel hadn't interfered, as it was obvious she would, he would have dropped Rudy and gone on his way.
What a pity.
Liesel knew she was smaller than him. No punches of hers could have possibly hurt him. So she did the only thing she could think of. She ran at him and sunk her teeth as far into his flesh as she possibly could. He gave a yell of anger and pain then turned on her.
His fist hit her with such force that she could hear his knuckle crack against her skull. White hot pain blossomed in her forehead like a rose, slowly and then all at once. She hit the spinning ground like a stone in water. She could vaguely hear laughter, and a panicked yell from what she assumed was Rudy, and for some odd reason, a lullaby squeezed out among the keys of an accordion, playing softly in the distance. Maybe she was making it up. Maybe she was dying.
* A Small Reassurance From Myself *
She wasn't dying.
It's rather endearing how humans can mistake pain for death.
Truthfully, that's not how it works.
Some time later - seconds, minutes or years later, she couldn't tell - she felt a hand stirring her. A familiar voice began to come into focus, as it murmured and pleaded.
'...Oh God, please don't be dead. Don't die on me, Liesel. Please, please, please don't die on me...'
Oh the irony. It kills me sometimes.
Her heavy eyelids forced themselves open and almost instantly, were flooded with thick, garnet blood. The pain returned with a vengeance, beating into her damp forehead like a heartbeat.
'Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I feel like sheisse,' she choked out as she clutched her head.
Rudy let out a long, relieved sigh. 'Goddamn it Liesel, I thought you were dead!'
'I thought I was dead too,' she said, still laid out on the ground. 'What happened?'
'You passed out, that bastard punched me for a little while longer and then let me go. They left about ten minutes ago.'
I couldn't help but notice that he left out a few details: how he had yelled her name over and over as he was beaten; how he positively begged them not to hurt her anymore; how he had cradled her head in his lap as he fought off tears; how he had never been so scared in his life. But then, Rudy never was one to keep in details he thought unnecessary. Or incriminating.
'Mama will kill me if she sees me like this,' she groaned.
'The river is nearby. We could probably get some of the blood out,' he said thoughtfully, wiping his eyes of any evidence while she wasn't looking. He stood up and held out his hand to her. She struggled to her feet with his help, then almost instantly staggered under the weight of the pain in her head, but he caught her to him, his hands gripping her waist.
He struggled to keep his breathing even at this proximity. Liesel was experiencing similar lack of oxygen, yet kept her face void of emotion.
Humans are truly odd creatures when it comes to love.
'You could get on my back,' he offered.
'And how do you propose I get on your back while I can barely stand?' she asked dryly, clutching his forearms for support.
'I dunno, I guess you have to trust me.' He grinned down at her. 'Do you trust me, by any chance?'
'You know I don't.' A wave of nausea passed over her and she stumbled. Rudy held her up, pulling her arm over his shoulder and walking her off the path towards the river.
They reached the river after many minutes of ragged progress across uneven ground. Several times, they were forced to stop while she filled her thirsty lungs with oxygen and soothed the ache in her skull. There was dried brown blood plastered to her face, a large contrast to her disturbingly white skin. Rudy knew this; maybe that's why he quickened the pace considerably to the water's edge.
He laid her down on the soggy, Autumn grass and knelt beside her.
'This is your fault you know,' she pointed out, her eyes clenched shut.
'You're not going to let me forget this, are you?'
'Never.'
He sat beside her, trying to work out what to do next. He needed water, but he had nothing to carry it with, aside from his hands. Finally, he removed his shoe, took off a sock and soaked it in the river. He placed it at the large bruise surfacing from under her skin, and she gasped a little at the sting of the frosty, cold water dribbling down her face.
'Rudy, where's the book?' she asked suddenly, attempting to sit up.
Rudy looked at her, unsure of what to say. 'I don't know, Liesel. I think you dropped it when you passed out.'
She fell back onto the grass in defeat. 'Shit.'
It was at this point that the well renowned, medal winning Jesse Owens paid a visit. Rudy was off before Liesel could even register he was gone. She could here his feet pounding the ground like a thunderstorm. A laugh bubbled up in her throat, eating at her teeth as she tried to suppress it. The attempt failed.
It was a minute. Two minutes at most. It was with incredible speed that Rudy reappeared with a victorious grin stuck on his lips, sending a spray of earth right at Liesel's face. She glared at him, but it melted away as she looked at his grimy, happy face. There was no doubt that she loved that face more than any.
He held out the book in triumphant hands, the same hands that rescued The Whistler from the icy grasp of the river.
She pushed herself to her feet, swaying a little but standing all the same, and stepped towards him, taking the book from his hands.
I wish I could say that Rudy Steiner received his due. That Liesel dropped the damn book, took his face in both hands and kissed him, finally gave in to the lemon haired boy. But she didn't. She wanted to, very, very much. But she didn't. Maybe she was afraid of the love she felt for him; it was an unpredictable, crippling emotion that had the ability to kill her, if that was its whim. So she didn't kiss him, like she longed to. Like he longed to.
He would go to his death without her lips.
'Danke Rudy,' she said softly. 'Danke.'
They gazed at each other for a moment, suffocated by the silence, then Liesel stepped away, clutching the book to her chest.
'Come on, Rudy. It's lunch time.'
'I'm always hungry after a good beating...'
* The Truth About Life That You Most Likely Already Know *
It's not fair.
I never said the truth was a secret.
A/N: Sorry for the Fault In Our Stars reference, couldn't resist. :)
Like I said, I'm not great at endings, so this might not be my best work, but thank you for reading anyway.
Guest, I hoped you enjoyed the story. Thanks again!
