Author's Note: Inspired yet again by CS and writing away. It's not as fluffy as my last one, but it's a short story that struck me fancy and hasn't let go of me yet. I'm basically done writing it (only three or four chapters) and will post every other day. Feel free to let me know what you think of it!


i. so wake me up when it's all over

She lived and died without Killian ever knowing her name.

He was twelve years old when he first laid eyes on the vicar's daughter. His father, the blacksmith, had decided it was time that his youngest boy started his apprenticeship and brought Killian from the farmstead to work in the blazing furnace of his workshop. Killian had been excited to be let out of the country and eager to make his father proud. This, however, had been dampened slightly when he was informed that his duties would mainly consist of fetching water for the barrels that were used to cool the newly formed metal works.

It was on one of these trips to the well that brought him into proximity with the blonde girl. She'd clearly just finished filling her own bucket when she'd turn and nearly knocked into him, the water lapping dangerously close to the lip of the bucket. She hadn't said anything, just gave him an apologetic smile, before slipping past him and disappearing around the corner of the nearest building.

What he remembers first noticing about her was her slightly crooked smile. The tinge of sadness to the tilt of her lips and the accompanying distant look in her green eyes had been so out of place for one as young as she.

What gets lost in his memory, especially these days, is the slight stutter in his chest at the sight of her delicately formed features and serious gaze. He didn't know what it was then, and he sure as hell doesn't think to put a name to it now, but it'd created a big enough impression on the young lad that he'd walked back to his father's workshop in a daze, having totally forgotten to fill up his own water bucket.

The next time he sees her, it's an altogether different sight that greets him from the demure and shy girl who'd been embarrassed about almost splashing him with water.

He's on his way home to his father's place that he keeps in town when he hears a high-pitched yell that sounds like a girl and he's running in the direction of the sound before he even fully registers that it was a sound made in anger and not in pain. As he slides into an empty space between buildings, the tableau before him is not what he'd expected. There's a small boy cowering near the wall, skinny arms thrown over his head, clearly having just been saved a beating by a short avenging angel whose currently grappling with an older boy, of a more stouter build than her but having to put up a fight to keep the girl's small hands away from his face.

Not a little shocked by the sight, Killian stands frozen until he sees the bigger boy finally get a hold of the girl's pinned up hair and pulls roughly, the girl's teeth gritting in pain as she thrashes her head about, unsuccessful in getting him to loosen his grip. Suddenly, Killian finds himself grabbing onto the offending arm and twisting it with savagery, the surprise and the pain making the boy cry out and let go.

The girl stumbles forward, getting a bearing of her feet quickly, and running to the shivering child against the wall. Killian catches the edge of a fist to his jaw while he's distracted and turns back to meet the angry gaze of the bully. He's not one to normally enjoy violence, but he finds himself meeting the taller boy's glare with an unpleasant grin that brings a touch of fear into the other boy's eyes. Killian steps forward, swinging his own arm back to meet the boy's face, but only gets him in the shoulder as the boy turns to run back up the alley, yelling in pain.

With the rather abrupt ending to the fight, Killian is momentarily disoriented until he hears the sniffling next to him and the soft murmurs of the blonde girl as she comforts the young lad. Turning, he finds them both huddled together, giving him scared looks. He doesn't like the feeling that washes over him with that and so crouches down so he's at their level. Both their shoulders relax a bit, the girl's arm hugs the boy to her.

"It's okay," he whispers, the moment seeming to call for soft tones.

A long look passes between Killian and the girl with the green eyes before she gives an imperceptible nod and shy smile, more of a slight tug of her mouth. He can't help the smile that comes to his own face and he feels a shakiness in the center of his chest that isn't unpleasant, but is a little uncomfortable.

Holding out a hand, she takes it, and he helps her up, bringing the younger boy up with her. "Let me walk you home," he says, emulating the gents that sometimes pass by his father's smithy.

He doesn't realize that he's still holding her hand until she gives a little tug to free her own. He lets go rapidly, feeling a flush rise up in his cheeks. He isn't too sure what he's doing here, but he just knows that he wants to be near her a little bit longer.

When she doesn't say anything, he starts to feel awkward and so he clears his throat as he turns away. "I'll just be g—"

"My father's the vicar," she interrupts, her voice as light as the ethereal color of her hair. "We live just past the square. If that isn't too far for you to walk." Her voice trails off uncertainly when he doesn't say anything.

He rubs one hand through his hair. It's gotten a bit clammy at the thought of being in her presence a little longer. He smiles at her. "It isn't."

It's the last time he sees her before the ogres come. Because Killian and his father are trading goods at an outlying village that day, they are the only survivors.