.
*** Note I – A big thank you to those favoring, following and reviewing my fanfic~ =') You people are awesome, and I hope you enjoy this next chapter~! =D ***
*** Note II – Disclaimer: All canonical work is under the ownership of their respective creators. All fanworks posted are intended for personal, entertainment and non-commercial use. No copyright infringement is intended. *** I only own the following: My OCs, non-canon places; ideas, events, storylines and plots that are my own and not in the original canon; and, my imagination~ :3 ***
*** Note III – Sincere and profuse apologies for the later-than-usual update. I tend to be busy, and work is the number one main factor for said busyness. A more detailed explanation as to why my updates are generally not very frequent has already been typed up around the top of my profile page, so I won't be writing any more here in regards to that . . . And despite that, I still feel bad about not updating a lot. *cries internally* (._. ) ***
.
.
~ 001 – Lemon Tarts ~
.
.
"Memory was a curse, yes, he thought, but it was also the greatest gift. Because if you lost memory you lost everything."
~ Anne Rice, Blood And Gold
.
.
"Elise! Stop running and come back!"
Throughout the corridors within the castle-like building that served as the Scouting Legion's headquarters, a skinny little seven-year-old girl with teal-green doe eyes scampered blithely. Her straight medium-length snowy white hair brushed her shoulders and tickled her neck as she turned for but a moment to witness the incoming distorted shadow of her temporary caretaker. Giggling impishly, she pivoted to her side and proceeded to dash down a lengthy flight of stone stairs. "That's not how the game works, Liesl, you have to find and catch me!"
"Noooo, I'll be berated should I lose you! Get back here NOW!" the aforementioned nineteen-year-old female soldier groused before a look of horror creeped across her face. Should she ever lose one of Squad Leader Keith Shadis' guests . . . Liesl dared not to dwell on the consequences.
But Elise Jaeger continued to ignore the older woman's almost frantic beckoning. The girl wore a pair of burgundy flat shoes and a long-sleeved burgundy dress; and around her waist, was a dark brown sash that was tied into a bow at her back.
She reached the bottom step, to which she then ran down another hall; dodging bewildered soldiers. A female voice continued to call after her.
…
Fanning herself with her left hand, Liesl stared out into the trees, which were by the southern end of Headquarters. She sighed; exasperated, and yet, her clear grey eyes held entertainment.
"Elise, I saw you run this way! Come out; I know you're behind one of those trees! Or one of those giant bushes!" A gust of warm summer wind blew her shoulder-length golden hair behind her. Lifting her right hand, she pushed her neatly-trimmed straight bangs away to wipe the sweat off of her forehead. "Eliiiiiiiiiiise . . ."
Meanwhile, Elise was, indeed, hiding behind a large dark green bush; scrutinizing her caretaker's expressions . . . And then a young male Scout hailed Liesl. There was a ball in his hands; a checkered cloth tied at the top, with something inside of it. The two then conversed – the man smiling roguishly and seeming to be teasing Liesl, and the woman looking to be irritated as she gritted her teeth.
And then the man faced nature. "Eliiiiiiiiiise! Would you like some lemon tarts? I have soooooooome!"
Perplexed, Elise rapidly blinked thrice. Lemon tarts? They exist? She had only ever tried apple tarts and cream tarts . . . But lemon? Not expecting for the pastry to at least taste decent, she was still intrigued. She stepped out of her hiding spot and moved towards the pair.
"The elusive lady shows herself!" the man dramatically announced.
Liesl procured and eye-roll. "Oh, how great; she comes to you of all people."
He smirked. "Now Liesl, my darling, it's not my fault that I coincidently happen to have tarts at hand."
The man owned a pair of silvery eyes and auburn hair, which was cut short at the back, and kept longer at the front and the sides of his face. With a light-hearted smirk, he handed Elise a tart.
Thanking the man, the girl gingerly took the pastry. She inspected it: A simple light golden brown flaky crust, with the filling resembling that of thick cream, yet it was a plain golden yellow. And glossy; for some reason, this confectionary had the sun reflect splendidly off of it.
She took a bite, and she fell in love. "Delicious! It's sooooooo yummy!"
Thus Elise's obsession for lemon-related foods and pastries began.
.
.
Grisha Jaeger blinked thrice and grimaced as the blinding midday sunlight escaped from its cloudy confines and assaulted his face through the wide, clear glass windows of one of the infirmary rooms.
For the past thirty minutes, he had been sitting atop a white-sheeted bed with his back against the white walls; his pillows propping him up comfortably as he, despite the strength of the sun's rays, continued to stare absentmindedly into the bustling outer courtyard of the Scouting Legion's headquarters. He was not gazing at any person nor thing in particular . . . Rather, he was attempting to calm his distressed mind; because for the past thirty minutes, he also had his right hand stuffed into the deep pocket of his torn black pants, gripping that paper-like thing.
Do I dare look at it again? Was that image a mirage of some sorts?
Gulping, Grisha finally turned his face away from the sun. Pulling his slightly shaking hand out, his green-brown eyes fixated upon the black-and-white photograph. Without a doubt, the young father and daughter within the photo were himself and Elise. But the other two subjects? After much thought, he deduced that the beautiful and young fair-haired woman was his wife – regardless of the fact that his brain held no memory of her, this picture was proof enough. He undoubtedly had a wife. And then there was the other person in the monochromatic photo, a person who had smoothly delivered his mind with the most shock: A little boy, who looked to be the twin of Elise given by how alike their physical appearances were.
His muscles began to ach a little more than when he had first woke up, a little over an hour ago.
He did not know that he had a son as well . . . Yet, what did it matter? He was dead. His wife was dead. Their home was most likely destroyed and that was why he had carried his daughter through a gargantuan forest; praying to the heavens to find safety.
Furiously wiping away a fresh set of tears, Grisha took a deep breath before stuffing the photograph into his pocket. It is painful to look at that . . . His pupils barely scanned the medium-sized room (in which held a few more of those plain beds, short stools and small, chipped oak bedside cabinets), before then resting upon his own temporary cabinet. A fresh change of clothing was neatly folded on top of it – the military issued dark brown, knee-high leather boots stood by it – and he, all of a sudden, realized at how filthy he was. He was in dire need of a bath; he desired a shave; his scalp was itchy beyond measure; and, he wished to scrub down his stinging feet, which were currently bandaged and had dried blood staining the bindings.
And he was hungry. Again. He had been given food and drink an hour ago, yet his stomach demanded more sustenance in very obnoxious grumbles.
From the opposite end of the otherwise silent room, the door creaked open. Keith Shadis' hazel eyes bore into Grisha's face in a good-naturedly manner. "I apologize for not coming up here as soon as you had woken up, Mr. Jaeger; there were a couple of items that required my attention," the soldier spoke in his usual gruff voice.
Grisha managed a small smile as the older man plopped down on a wooden stool by his bedside. "No need, sir, the doctor took good care of me. And please, 'Grisha' is fine." He was glad to see a more familiar face. With a clearer focus than before, his eyes shrewdly regarded the other's garb: Sturdy, knee-high boots; white pants that were very formfitting; a dark brown sash that was situated around the hips and buckled in with a dark brown leather belt; a cropped light brown leathery jacket; and, the most peculiar thing of all, the numerous dark brown straps and small silver buckles that wrapped all around the soldier's legs and torso. What exactly were the purpose of those? Even for a military uniform, it looked quite odd . . . Albeit, he did think that the sigil emblazoned upon the jacket was, in a way, pretty, for a lack of better words. The 'Wings of Freedom' was what Keith had informed his daughter when they were outside of the Walls and she had excitedly asked about what the white wing overlapping the sapphire blue wing stood for.
A guttural voice returned him from his thoughts. "Then you may call me 'Keith.'" Keith smirked before his facial expression morphed into something a little more on the serious side as his pupils trailed over the ugly fading bruises that were littered all over the younger man's exposed skin. "And how are you feeling? Are there any significant injuries?"
"Other than my cut feet, aching muscles and the bruises all over my body, there's nothing of note," Grisha responded with a little shrug. Although, I do feel a bit too well-rested . . . "How long was I asleep for?"
Keith raised an eyebrow; vaguely unimpressed. "You mean you don't remember passing out two days ago, wh–?"
"TWO DAYS?!"
"Shut up, Jaeger!" The squad leader clamped a rough hand over the aforementioned man's mouth; and he glared at him in a most intimidating fashion. His voice lowered to a harsh whisper. "Due to the nature of my visit, I don't want anyone – attracted by your commotion – to come barging in here and listen in on things of which they are not meant to listen to!"
Unmoving for the longest five seconds, Grisha merely blinked before procuring a nod of his head. The latter of Keith's words had piqued his interest . . . And uneasiness. Naturally, he's here to make inquiries in regards to where Elise and I came from, and to gauge whether or not I remember anything . . . But why this panic and secrecy?
Keith removed his hand, sighed, and talked in a clearer voice: "You fell unconscious, well, almost two days ago. We passed under the gate leading into the mainland of Wall Rose – the middle Wall – from Trost District when you tumbled off of my horse."
Grisha winced. "Oh," was all he had managed to say, for he felt sheepish.
Entertained by his expression, Keith continued, "I don't blame you – you were very exhausted. I should have let you sit in front of me so that I could've grabbed onto you. You did give your daughter quite the scare, however."
He winced yet again, and his cheeks felt warm. "How is my Elise? Your doctor informed me that there was nothing serious beneath her bruises; and that all she needed was plenty of food and drink, and a remedial bath before she was fine."
"'Fine' is an understatement, Grisha." Keith shuddered in faux horror before his hazel eyes then bore into the younger man's so intensely, that he felt as though his soul was being pierced by a thousand sewing needles. "It didn't take long before she started to bounce all over the walls! Fuck, she almost fell out of five windows; down two flights of stairs; and, over the parapets atop the medical wing, in one day, because she was too damn excited and wanted to explore! Thankfully, she's calmed down considerably today; but by god, yesterday was terrifying."
Laughter burst out of Grisha's mouth – merely the mental images of someone such as Keith chasing after an overly exhilarated child was oh, so very humorous. Clearing his throat, he made to speak when a new fit of snickering enveloped him . . . And that only had Keith's glare intensify.
Regaining his composure, the twenty-six-year-old released a relaxed sigh. "Still . . . I thank you profusely for keeping an eye on her. Where is she now?"
The soldier's eyes no longer held their glare. "You're welcome. For today, I've given her to Liesl – she works directly under me, being one of my team leaders." The corners of his lips twitched into a tiny smile. "She is very responsible and trustworthy – and she likes children – so your daughter is in capable hands, never fear."
Once Keith ceased speaking, a nearly awkward, pregnant silence resonated throughout the infirmary. Grisha's fingers twitched uncomfortably. He's pondering how to delicately approach the subject. Go on. Ask me. Just get it over with.
"There are a few items that I want to discuss with you," Keith drawled as if he was trying his hardest to be tactful of his own wording due to the younger man's predicament. "The commander and I have discussed much about the unfortunate situation befalling you and Elise. He has granted me time off, in order to teach the two of you about life within the Walls . . . And to aid you in settling in."
The recovering man felt such relief that Keith did not inquire about his memory, or lack thereof; he did not want to think about what he had lost. His brows then furrowed in puzzlement. "'To teach us about life within the Walls?'" he repeated. As tempted as he was to chuckle, he maintained as straight a face as he can. "You make it sound as though not blending in would have me killed."
"Potential execution might happen if you don't watch yourself." The too-serious-for-words expression that donned Keith's face, combined with a slight flash of fear within his eyes, was enough to turn Grisha's brief amusement into dread.
"You are . . . Serious?" Grisha asked, almost incredulous.
"I won't broach the subject into detail now," Keith said brusquely. "It'll be much easier to explain – and you'll make better sense of it – after I teach you and your daughter about life here and the history of the Walls . . . And the Titans, or rather, what little we know of them, as they correlate with why we have these Walls. Not here; however, we will be able to discuss this further at my home, so that we have the luxury of complete privacy. I've a house in the southernmost Shiganshina District of Wall Maria, and once you have fully healed, I will take you there."
Grisha absorbed the information silently. "I daresay then . . . Elise and I will have to lie about our origins?"
"If you want to survive and live an 'easier' life, then yes. The commander, myself, Liesl, our head doctor, and a few of the other soldiers of the Scouting Legion are the only ones who know that you came from beyond the Walls; and, we have sworn to secrecy. Let us keep it that way."
"Yes . . . Of course." Grisha was lucky that, that was indeed the case. When Keith had his mare gallop swiftly to the Commander of the Scouting Legion, there were barely any Scouts within proper viewing distance. Following a brief introduction, the foreign man was then given a spare pair of those knee-high boots and the hip-length forest green cloak (whilst being expressly told to wear the wide hood over his head), in order to blend in. By the time he was done, a considerable amount of Scouts had arrived. Keith was instructed to ride at the very front of their column, abreast the commander in case one of the soldiers inquired as to why exactly was one of their squad leaders carrying a bundle of cloaks in front of his person . . . Certainly, unbeknownst to the majority of the Scouts, that bundle of cloaks was simply a single cloak, completely blanketing Elise from view.
"Then, everyone else thinks I'm your guest?" Grisha assumed.
Keith procured a nod of his head. "They were told that you are a friend; whom had been in an accident so harrowing, that it had rendered you and your daughter in a state of amnesia. Elise cannot remember anything, yet you are slowly regaining your memories bit by bit."
Grisha looked to his hands, which were resting atop his lap. Well that's that . . .
He felt a strong hand clap over his shoulder, and he returned his gaze towards the older man's face, who had looked at him not unkindly. "I will leave you to rest, and the doctor will show you to the baths later," Keith added as he retracted his hand and stood from the short stool. "Afterwards, I will have Liesl bring your daughter to you – she'll be ecstatic to know that you're finally awake."
"Words cannot fully express my thanks," Grisha smiled, and he spoke with such heavy sincerity. "I am indebted to you."
"Don't worry about that now." The hazel-eyed man returned said smile. "Just focus on healing, and we'll take care of this . . . Conundrum." He turned and moved towards the infirmary's exit . . . And suddenly stopped right when his hand grasped the door knob. Once more, he re-faced Grisha, and noticed how the sitting man's eyebrows were furrowed in question. "This might be too early to ask: Since waking up, have you remembered anything else?"
Time seemed to be placed at a standstill for Grisha, and a melancholic wave proceeded to course his being. The fingers on his right hand twitched; itching to glimpse at the photograph again, but he stayed his hand. "I remembered that I also had a son. But he is most likely dead."
The photograph in my pocket shows him . . . Yet truthfully, my mind holds no memory of the boy.
A frown ghosted the soldier's features. "Very probable, yes, outside of the Walls. It's a miracle you and Elise survived, barely injured. My condolences. How old?"
"Thank you. He was seven – Elise's elder twin. And–oh! A doctor! It just came to me . . . I have skill in the medical field. I can work as a doctor."
Keith's eyes lit up.
.
.
"Keith."
A raven-feathered quill scratched across a piece of parchment, leaving some surprisingly elegant handwriting in its wake.
"Keith?"
Said man felt the late morning sun's annoying rays blazing against the back of his head and his sweaty neck. He mentally cursed the mid-August heat.
"Keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeiiiiiiiiith . . ."
Dipping his quill yet again into the inkpot, he swore inwardly upon realizing that it was now empty. Temporarily placing it by the edge of his spacious and half-cluttered mahogany desk, he opened the desk's top drawer and brought forth a new inkpot; opening the stopper and placing the small glass bottle by the missive he was currently penning.
"Keith, Keith, Keith, Keith Keith, Keith, Keith, Keith, Keith, Keith."
Sighing, he dipped his glossy black quill and continued to write; the silvery tip ascending, descending and looping across the page.
"KEITH!"
Producing his signature, he stated his full name and rank below it before then raising his hand to the top of the letter in order to scribble down the day's date –
"Keith, I'm bleeding."
"Where?" Abruptly, Keith rose his head. Withal to his deep focus on completing the missive, there were a myriad of thoughts that had been buzzing throughout his mind like flies drawn to a carcass; and he was so consumed by said thoughts that, for but a moment, he had honestly forgot that he was not alone in his office. Not only that, but Elise had previously made no sound when she was lounging about on his couch and perusing the books on his shelves.
Hazel irises met pools of teal-green; their owner merely gifting him with the most impishly smug smile he had ever seen on a child. The corners of his lips twitched into a frown that was barely noticeable. "Huh, would you look at that: I forgot you existed," Keith commented in a faux haughty tone.
"So meeeeaaaaaaan!" Elise tittered after pouting and pretending to be hurt by his words. She climbed on top of one of the two chairs that were in front of his desk and plopped a leather-bound tome onto the piece of furniture. "If you keep doing that, then your face'll always look mean, and it'll never go back to normal."
Keith smirked, almost good-naturedly. "I'll take the permanent 'mean face.' It keeps the idiots away." He hastily penned an address to the back of an envelope, and stood the quill in his inkpot. "That is one of my history books, is it not?" He gestured to the thick opened book as he folded his missive and slide it inside the envelope. And then he sighed. "Didn't your father inform you the other day about my going to teach you about life here and its' history once we sojourn in my home?"
"He did," the albino girl replied, seemingly nonchalant for the moment. "But I was hoping to look though this and your other books to get a head start."
Keith almost smiled. "Even though you can't read? Or write?"
Initially, when Keith had found Grisha reading the newspaper a few days' back, he was bewildered. And then he felt silly about being bewildered; surely since they spoke the same language, the younger man would be able to read and write in it as well? Yet when Elise tried to read the paper, she could not understand it at all! The amnesia seemed to be affecting her a little more strongly than her father.
She looked saddened. "I was also hoping that staring at the words long enough would make me remember . . ."
"Is it working?"
"No. What does that say?"
The soldier glanced to where she pointed at the top of the yellowed page. "It says, 'And from the very centre of the innermost Wall Sina, the king commanded for a magnificent fortress to be built, to serve as his palace so that he may rule justly over those most loyal to him . . .' and so on. Don't worry –" He ruffled her silken hair. "– your dad and I will re-teach you."
Instantly, Elise became elated. "Thank you! When are we leaving for this Shigansushi place?"
Keith actually laughed. "Shiganshina," he corrected, emphasizing the last two syllables. "And it's tomorrow. Morning, so make sure you sleep well!"
.
.
… One Week Later …
.
.
A horse neighed; the carriage rattled; Elise babbled to Grisha whilst staring through the carriage windows; a vaguely groggy Grisha responded to everything Elise was saying; the sun played peek-a-boo with the bright white clouds; and Keith, though pleased that they were finally nearing the Shiganshina District, was still irate over that stupid fiasco earlier on this week.
Stupid, yet terrifying.
Two of the scouts who happened to be present during the Jaeger's arrival via Keith's horse; and were of the small group sworn to secrecy of their origins, had talked excitedly about that day. Unfortunately, this was done as they were making a quick evening excursion to the tavern at the large town just outside of the gates leading into Trost District. Subsequently, three members of the Military Police overheard the scouts; and absent hesitation, by nighttime, they brought Grisha to Trost, detaining him in said district's precinct.
A livid Commander of the Scouting Legion, supported by Squad Leader Keith Shadis, worked tirelessly to prove that Grisha Jaeger was no threat. And in the end, it had worked, especially after Grisha decided to speak, expressing that his amnesia was truly real and that all he wanted to do was to rebuild a life for himself and his child, and learn from Keith about what life was like within the Walls.
They had counted themselves ridiculously fortunate that these specific members of the police were not secretly from the First Interior Squad . . .
"Are we there yet?"
Elise's question returned Keith from his thoughts. He adjusted the collar on his light grey long-sleeved shirt and took a gander through the window on his right side. Farmland filled his vision, and he caught sight of a familiar-looking windmill in the distance. "Give or take ten or twenty minutes," he responded, satisfied.
Grisha looked relieved. "Good. My legs are in dire need of a good stretch."
As were Keith's. And he was also relieved that they were finally nearing the southernmost district. Yet, he was still irritated regarding the situation with the police as because of it, they were almost a week behind schedule. Keith loathed being off-schedule. Although, the trio could have used the faster boating system . . . But Keith's temperament at the time subtly demanded for him to hire a more private method of transportation as he was in no mood to be in contact with many random strangers.
…
"Oh, Mr. Arlert, congratulations on your son's engagement!" a middle-aged couple exclaimed jovially to a somewhat portly older man with greying brown hair, a thick beard and a faded brown, wide-rimmed old hat.
"FRESH FISH! FRESH FISH THAT HAS JUST BEEN CAUGHT!" a fishmonger all but screamed with such ardour from his stand.
"Yesterday's loaves are half the price!" a baker called out with a twinkle in her eyes as her husband, another baker, replenished their stocks of warm baguettes and soft, salted pretzels.
A kaleidoscope of pretty, tiny cream-white butterflies fluttered in the air.
Within the bustling marketplace and main streets of the Shiganshina District, Elise's pupils continued to dart all over the vicinity, filling her vision with as much as she can.
She had almost bumped into her father for the fifth time. A younger boy nearly bumped into her whilst dragging his mother around. Keith mentioned something to Grisha and her father responded – yet she did not hear them. A couple of men exited the courier's office and strolled past a group of young women, all of whom were gossiping whilst inspecting some fresh meat. A baby proceeded to cry. A half-drunk man in his twenties sang loud, bawdy songs. Somewhere behind them, a voice spewed things about God, the Three Goddesses and the Walls. A few children and older youths ran errands for their parents and grandparents. Every now and then, someone (mainly fellow children) would glance over at Elise; looking at her as though she was a strange entity.
Elise had perceived that there were also quite the number of soldiers here, as well, albeit she did not know who exactly they were. They wore the same uniforms as those of the Scouting Legion and the Military Police, yet the sigil emblazoned upon their cropped jackets was that of twin ruby red roses with entwining white stems.
Continuing in her observations, Elise noticed two soldiers with rifles slung diagonally across their backs; lackadaisical in their duties and jesting around. They turned their backs on her as they sauntered towards a man behind his wine stand; and as soon as she saw the emerald green horse accompanied with a white mane and horn, she stuck out her tongue distastefully at them.
Instantly, she felt a heavy hand clap over her left shoulder. "Elise, stop that," her father chided gently. Keith failed in his attempt to hide a smile.
Elise pouted. "Fine!"
…
It was considerably quieter here in comparison to the main streets. The simple, two-story house with a clay-shingled roof stood before the trio. It looked to be grimy.
"Well, here we are!" Keith declared as he brought forth a plain key from his shirt's pocket. "We might need to clean a bit – it has been a while since I've looked at this house." He unlocked the door; the three of them hurried over the threshold; and with a sigh, Keith shut the door. Both men plopped their bags onto the floor, and a huge cloud of dust emitted from that.
In less than a second, Elise began coughing and sneezing, and Grisha's eyes began to water before he, too, released a rather loud sneeze. "'We might need to clean a bit,' you said?" Grisha sniffled with a deadpanned expression. His right eye twitched. "Every inch of this house is covered in layers upon layers of dust and cobwebs! And that is most likely only the beginning!"
The hazel-eyed man seemed eerily calm when he shrugged the other man off. "Well, yes; I haven't been here in three years. It'll obviously be like this."
"THREE FU–!"
Elise continued sneezing.
"Hmmmm, I might have to throw out some things too. A pity, but oh well."
"KEITH!"
"Shut up, Jaeger, I can't think!" Keith's nose began to feel watery. "Alright, I should have some cleaning supplies somewhere here. We'll clean right away, and Elise –" He pointed towards the aforementioned child, who had finally ceased sneezing, but was now trying to tame the tears pouring out of her eyes. "– reopen the front door. We need some fresh air in here."
Without any complaints, Elise complied, and fervent cleaning ensued.
.
.
One week and three days. It took a long one week and three days before the entirety of the two-story house was cleaned – both the interior and as much of the exterior as possible. Dust and grime and lord knows what some of those other substances were no longer plagued the building. Carpets (amongst a few other items) were thrown out; windows were thoroughly wiped; the indoor water pump, toilet and bathing room were fixed, and two families of mice were exterminated.
Aiming to be as thorough as possible, Keith had taken the time, during their breaks, to explain as much as possible in regards to their society's history, the Walls, and what little information was known about the Titans. He had brought a few books from his office with him, temporarily giving them to Grisha to read over himself and for Elise as the amnesia affected her ability to read and write.
Keith wasted no time in expressing the extreme importance of keeping their true origins a secret.
"So, does that mean I can't ask people if there are any blimps or photographers here?" Elise asked her father one night as he tucked her into bed.
"No," Grisha responded; and he subconsciously thought of that photograph of him, Elise, and a wife and son he still held no memory of. "These people are very behind, technology-wise. To properly blend in, it would be best if we try to pretend that such things never existed."
His words caused Elise some distress. She had already forgotten so much; she did not want forget more. "Fine."
Once Grisha left the room, she wept silently to sleep.
The final days of August blended into the beginning of September – though Elise and Grisha did not realize it at first since the weather still felt hot, albeit the humidity was thankfully gone. Half of these days were spent with Elise re-learning how to read and write, with Grisha and Keith alternating as her instructors. The other half was spent with Keith touring the Jaeger's all around Shiganshina District, through every quiet neighborhood, side routes and the busier main streets – and a little bit of the countryside outside of the district gate, so as to better acquaint the two.
Constantly, Elise would remind herself to carefully observe her surroundings; taking mental notes in regards as to what her new home had, or rather, what it lacked. She did not want to suffer a slip of speech, especially whenever the Police happened to be nearby.
"– and right across the Military Police precinct is this district's hospital." Keith, one early evening, jabbed a thumb to his left towards a large building with great wrought iron gates that had a simple yet elegant design.
Elise's focus was, instead, on a thin black-and-white cat climbing a tree. Grisha stared at the building and spoke immediately: "I should like to speak to the head doctor for employment."
"After you receive your citizenship papers." The soldier lowered his voice when he said this. "You're not allowed to work without them."
Grisha mentally face-palmed in realization. "That's right – Elise and I aren't even supposed to be up here on the surface without the papers," he commented, remembering what Keith had informed him and his child about said documents and the Underground District.
"When do we get them?" Elise chimed in.
"It should be soon – the commander mentioned that he will take care of it," Keith answered. "Prior to leaving Headquarters, he informed me that he will have them mailed to my house."
With all of this time spent together, Grisha and Keith began to develop a certain friendship.
And Elise had taken to calling the soldier 'Uncle Keith.'
.
.
"Oooh, this breeze is really nice," Elise's words floated into Grisha's ears as they sat upon a wooden bench within a grassy area that served as a park. A group of five children screamed as they played by a large oak tree.
The corners of Grisha's lips twitched into a tiny smile, and the wind tousled his dark brown hair. "Isn't it? That nasty heat is finally gone." He scratched his chin, feeling some stubble and internally debating on shaving it, or allowing it to grow out a bit. And then he noticed his daughter sneaking glances at the frivolous, playing children. "If you want to join them, go ahead; there is no harm in making new friends. Don't worry, I won't feel lonely," he joked.
She shook her head a little too violently. "No, I was just annoyed with how loud they are. I prefer being with you."
The young father procured an amused half-smile; and before he could respond, Elise opened her mouth. "Are there any birds big enough to ride?" She had pointed towards the bright blue sky, directly at a flock of geese flying over the massive Walls.
Grisha rose a brow at her random question. "Why birds?" He lent against the bench's backrest.
"Because they can fly. I've always wanted to know how to fly. It's too bad people aren't born with wings; like angels, ohhh, they are so pretty. It's no fair; I want wings . . ."
And as Elise rambled on, the green-brown-eyed man continued to scrutinize the skies. He blinked; and all of a sudden, blue morphed into golden orange and a fat white-grey blimp glided in place of the geese.
"Grisha, I've always wanted to fly on that. When I grow up, I'll be rich, and then I can buy one for myself and fly all day if I want!"
Shaken, the man snapped his head to the left, now face-to face with a cute little girl with the exact green-brown eyes and dark brown hair that he had.
Blink.
The girl was covered in blood, and her clothes were shredded to rags. He could see her muscles and tendons and bits of bone from the various parts of her body that were torn from her. Her lips opened, nay, teeth, for her lips were ripped off –
"Daddy?"
Blinking in horror once more, he speechlessly stared at his daughter. The sky was blue again.
Elise looked to be concerned as she nudged her father's left arm with her nose, akin to a kitten demanding attention. "Daddy, are you fine?"
"O-of course. I was distracted." His heart pounded into his ears. "What did you ask me?"
"I asked again about there being birds big enough to ride." The small white-haired child leaned into his chest; wrapping an arm across his stomach and around his waist.
"Ah. No. Not birds; there are some species that just cannot grow nearly as big." Truth be told, her actions started to calm his mind. Wrapping his left arm around her shoulders, he brought his right arm up and ruffled her hair. "It's growing past your shoulders – Do you want me to cut it?"
Elise's fingers fiddled with the fabric of his collared pale yellow shirt. "Noooo, I want it long! To my waist or the middle of my back, but I prefer it long!"
Grisha sniggered. "Alright. But it still needs a trim."
"Why?"
"To keep it healthy."
"Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine."
Elise continued to rest against her father, and Grisha allowed for his pupils to trail all over the park and the busy streets surrounding the area. For the most part, a good portion of the buildings looked to be in various stages of deterioration . . . Then again, Shiganshina was one of the poorer areas to live in – and the poorest of the twelve main districts.
Subconsciously, Grisha suddenly rested his sight upon a young woman; donned in a creamy blouse that was tucked into a long and flowing high-waisted burgundy skirt. He remembered her from two days prior: She worked as a waitress in a large tavern that Keith frequented. Keith was in the midst of boasting (rather imperiously) about how the Scouting Legion was "the best" due to what they do and what they aim to achieve, and how everyone else were "simple-minded idiots," when the lady barged into their conversation; presented the soldier with his third ale; and, jokingly accused him of trying to entice Grisha into joining the scouts.
What was her name, again?
His eyes trailed after the back of her head as she meandered between people, and further away from him. She owned long, mid-back-length luscious hair that was dark brown, almost black. He recalled that she had also possessed a pair of this deep, rich liquid amber for eyes.
Turning a corner, the woman disappeared from his gaze.
Grisha turned to Elise, whose face was a mere two centimetres away from his. She can be so quiet at times . . .
"Daddy, who were you looking at?" his child drawled in a mischievous tone.
He leaned back slightly, with barely-widened eyes. "No one of import."
But that only made Elise smirk with such bold cheekiness. "Whoooo?" she pressed. "It was a person, wasn't it? I couldn't see, though. Who was it?"
Instead, the man decided to tickle her sides. She squealed. "No, I'm too ticklish; stoooooooooooop!"
Chuckling, Grisha suddenly remembered the pretty young woman's name: Carla.
.
.
Grisha was sitting at the wooden kitchen table, peeling potatoes, when Keith unceremoniously barged through the front door. "Your citizenship papers have arrived!" the soldier announced as he closed the door and plopped two fat envelops atop the table, right by the wooden bowl that contained the already-peeled potatoes.
Elise – who had sat across from her father and was practicing her spelling – rammed her quill into the inkpot. "Finally!" she exclaimed as she then, in seconds, broke open the seal and pulled her documents out of the off-white envelop. She could only understand half of what was written. Her brows then furrowed. "Uncle Keith, it says that I was born in . . . Karanes?"
"It states that in mine as well," Grisha commented whilst scanning over his papers. "That's in Wall Rose, is it not?"
"Wall Rose's eastern district," Keith clarified. "While you laid unconscious back at Headquarters, the scouts would pester me about you – all I said was that you and Elise were from Karanes District to shut them up. It seems as though the commander had decided to stick with that when requesting your documents . . . And don't ask me why I chose Karanes, it was the first name that came to mind."
"Will we be going there?" Elise pondered.
"I see you're already thinking ahead," the hazel-eyed man commented in approval. "We'll leave the day after tomorrow, and we shall stay in Karanes for two or three days." He then turned to a straight-faced Grisha before saying the following: "I don't like to leave 'loose ends,' so to speak."
Procuring a nod of understanding, Grisha resumed scanning the rest of his citizenship papers. Reassured as he was to receive them; once Keith showed him and his daughter around this Karanes place, he would make a beeline for Shiganshina's hospital.
.
.
Such was the state of a district of Wall Rose to have people who owned clothing of better fit and quality, and buildings and roads that were much more clean and sturdily-built. The majority of Karanes' streets were made of stone or brick, whereas most of Shiganshina's where merely simple, boring dirt roads. However, like the latter, Karanes' main streets were bustling with quite the various activities.
Elise felt stupid as she stood at the very centre of one of the many busy streets – she did not know where she was. She had lost sight of both her father and Uncle Keith. People were either too focused on their duties or shopping to notice her; or they have indeed seen her, yet promptly ignored her and continued on with their business.
Pouting in uneasiness, she began to move about, albeit at a slow pace. Her eyes darted all over the vicinity. Her left hand balled into a tight fist around the handles of a basket – which held a decent selection of fresh mini tarts that Keith had purchased from a small bakery that specialized in the makings of tarts. A checkered cloth covered said confectionaries.
"Hello, there, are you lost?"
Elise's vague quivering disappeared when she turned to her side. A comely blond man stood before her, and he smiled widely. "Um . . ."
"Are you here with your parents?"
"Some family members," Elise replied with faux confidence. There was something about the way that this man looked at her that made her start to feel uncomfortable.
The man's smile ceased to falter. "Ah, do you know where they might be?"
"No, I'm not from around here." She wondered if that was a little too much information to blurt out in front of an utter stranger.
"A visitor, then!" He appeared to be deep in thought for but a moment. "Come; we'll walk around, and hopefully we'll find them." He took her small right hand a little too enthusiastically, to which they then resumed to saunter.
"Thank you, sir." Elise looked around.
"A pleasure."
They moved across different streets, turned a plethora of corners; and all the while, the blond man would constantly ask if she had spotted her 'family members,' and her answers would always be, "No." Again, she began to worry . . .
And then she saw the main gate; specifically, the gate that led out into the mainland of Wall Rose. "Wait!" the girl called out. "They wouldn't be out there."
"Oh? And do you know that for sure?" The man displayed no signs of stopping.
Now scared, Elise attempted to pull away from him. "Yes," she lied. "We planned to spend our time only in Karanes."
Pulling forcefully, the man sped up his pace. "There's still a chance that they assumed you to run out there. You know how children are – you're a kid yourself."
"No." Her right hand began to hurt. She spoke rapidly: "No, they know I wouldn't run off like that. Please let go, I think I now know where they'd be." He did not stop. The gate was only twenty feet away. Her fear then turned to anger, and she cursed her previous idiotic vulnerability. "If you don't let me go, I will stab you."
An empty threat on her part; she owned no weapon. And yet . . . It could prove to be advantageous should he release her hand.
Instantly, the man turned around, and he glared at Elise with such ugly disdain. "You will do no such thing, you little shit."
"Oh, there you are!" a boyish voice resonated. "I've been looking everywhere for you!" A well-dressed older boy appeared by her side, exuding such boldness. "Father is very worried." He had neatly-combed blond hair in an undercut, thick eyebrows, and a pair of piercing bright ice-blue eyes.
The bigger man tched, and lividness contorted his face. "Mind yourself, boy, I am helping her."
Blinking innocently, the taller child half-smiled. "I am minding myself. She is my sister; ergo, her business is my business. Thank you for finding her, and for treating her with such kindness!"
Initially, Elise was confused as to why he spoke louder than normal, and then she realized that he had caught the attention of some of the adults close by. She smirked victoriously.
Realizing this as well, the man released her hand, to which the boy swiftly took. "You're welcome, little man," the adult spat through a forced smile.
Wasting no time, the boy pulled her away; walking through crowds and streets, and turning more corners . . . "There," he said before releasing her hand and turning to face her. They now stood by a large fountain, which happened to mark the very centre of the Karanes District. "Are you alright?"
But Elise did not answer, for she had been staring into his irises. "Your eyes are really pretty!" she blurted out, absent any shame.
Entertained, the blond boy rose an eyebrow. "You weird child. Who were you with before you lost them?"
"Daddy and my uncle. Well, he's Daddy's friend, but he's like an uncle to me." Elise scrutinized the fountain. "I think this was where I lost them . . ."
With a tiny smile, the boy sat on the stone ledge of the large fountain. "Then we'll wait! They're bound to come back this way."
She smiled brightly at him. "Thank you for helping me. You seem familiar with Karanes – do you live here?" She sat by him and placed her tart-filled basket by her other side.
"It's no problem. I am glad that you're safe. And no, I don't live here. I'm visiting my aunt and uncle."
Silence ensued . . . "How old are you?" Elise asked; watching the people pass by.
The boy chuckled. "How random of you."
"I'd rather talk random things than be silent when I'm with someone."
"Fair enough. I'll be twelve next month –"
"Will you be enlisting into the Trainee Corps?" As soon as he had said 'twelve,' Elise instantly recalled that time when Keith talked about the military, and with how one would be allowed to join as young as the tender age of twelve.
"Yeah, I plan to." The boy regarded her curiously. "I don't know, you seem . . . Smarter than the average five-year-old."
The girl puffed out her cheeks in annoyance. "I'm seven!"
Icy eyes widened. "But you're so –"
"Don't say it!"
"– tiny!"
"And you're oddly monstrous even for an almost twelve-year-old."
"No, I just look that way to you because you're oddly short."
And instead of getting offended, Elise tittered. He just smirked, almost in a smug fashion. He jabbed a thumb in the direction of the basket. "What's in there?"
"Oh, tarts!" Elise replied enthusiastically. "Would you like one?"
He avoided her gaze for a long three seconds before then re-meeting her pupils. "You don't have . . . Lemon, do you?"
He thanked her when she handed him a glossy lemon tart. She took a second one out and bit into the delicious pastry.
"Mm, these are so good," murmured the boy after he swallowed it.
"Sooooo good," Elise agreed; shoving the rest of it into her mouth. "Lemon tarts are my favourite tarts – NO! Of all of the sweets, they are my favourite sweets."
Cue brief laughter from the boy. "They're mine as well!"
"Ohh, I see Daddy!" Elise pointed towards a huffing, red-cheeked and sweaty Grisha, who was trying his utmost to avoid colliding into people.
The blond boy stood on the road and Elise followed suit. "This is where I'll leave you, then," he stated light-heartedly.
"Thank you, again. I'm Elise, by the way."
With a smile, he placed a hand atop her head. "I'm Erwin."
"Huh, so they are real!" Elise exclaimed with genuine fascination when she suddenly lightly poked at his left eyebrow.
Standing straight, a deadpanned Erwin did not know whether to feel offended or amused. "Of course they're real. What did you honestly expect?"
"They're so thick that I thought they'd fall off or fly away or something."
Though he rolled his eyes, an entertained half-smirk could not help but play about his lips. "Get out of here, strange girl."
.
.
… Two Months Later …
.
.
The two-story house was mostly devoid of furniture, and it was very simple, yet it held such comfort and warmth. The front door led into a spacious kitchen area with a long counter, ample cupboard space, a cooking fire and an indoor water pump. One door led to a pantry; accompanied with a floor door in the centre of said pantry, leading into a small cellar. Beside it, a different door led into a room that housed a bathtub and an indoor toilet. Beneath the somewhat narrow staircase (which led to the floor above) a third door presented a decently-sized family room with a fireplace. The second floor included a short hallway, with one large bedroom situated on the left, and two smaller rooms – each of them being half of the size of the bedroom – on the right. Those two could be used as bedrooms, as well. Withal, there was this door – diagonally opposite from the front door – which led into a small backyard. There was nothing fancy about it, only that it had some good enough space to plant a few herbs here and there. The back of the house also included stone steps that were etched into the structure, leading up onto the flat roof, which already included laundry poles and clotheslines.
And then there was the basement. There was a second floor door; only this one led down a lengthy flight of stairs towards a wooden, thick vertical door; and beyond said barrier, was a somewhat capacious room – it would make a rather fine office space.
The mid-November breeze chilled Doctor Grisha Jaeger as he stood upon the threshold of his newly-purchased abode.
"– and here's both the key and the spare key to this house," a portly, dark blond forty-year-old man said as the young man took the plain keys into his left hand.
"It was a pleasure doing business with you." Grisha procured a satisfied smile at finally being able to purchase his own home. He owed it to his hard work as a doctor, and the fact that most housing within Wall Maria, especially in the south, was not expensive.
The older man guffawed. "Oh, no, the pleasure's mine Mister Hero of Shiganshina!"
"Please, it was merely my job as a doctor!"
…
"You took your time. Was this that man's house?"
Grisha joined his daughter upon the flat portion of the roof; sitting by her side and allowing for his legs to dangle over the edge. The duo's eyes traveled over the myriad of rooftops. "No, this once belonged to his niece and her husband," he answered her.
"Ahh, so this is where you are. Nice place," Keith's deeper, gruff voice pierced the airs as he walked up the final tree steps and sat by Elise's other side.
"Uncle Keith!"
Grisha deadpanned. "How did you get up here?"
"By jumping over your fence," the soldier replied, oh, so nonchalantly with a smirk.
A twitch. "Of course you did."
"You're going back to the Scouting Legion's headquarters this afternoon, right?" Elise piped up.
"Yes; I just finished packing."
"I'll miss you." She leaned against Keith's side.
"Likewise, Elise." He ruffled her hair; procuring one of his rare, sincere smiles. "You too, Jaeger."
Grisha snickered before then clearing his throat, and he looked upon Keith with such gratitude. "I really don't know how to properly say this, but . . . Thank you for everything you have done to help us."
"It was a pleasure, really. I actually had fun – it was a good break from that tedious paperwork. Only . . . You must promise that you will live your new lives to the greatest that you can. And no mentions of your true origins, even if your memories do return!"
.
.
Elise payed the baker. The baker, with a warm smile, handed Elise a fresh loaf and a warm baguette. Placing the breads into her woven basket, the girl turned on her heel and proceeded to leisurely stroll down the marketplace. Reaching behind her white waist-apron, she pocketed her coin pouch in her simple, dark blue dress.
A little dejected, the girl sighed. She and her father have been in Shiganshina since roughly the third week of August. It was now the middle of November, and none of her past memories have returned to her. Not even a single dream. Her father never mentioned anything, so she assumed that it was the same for him.
The yelling of fellow children suddenly pierced her eardrums; and turning down a side street out of curiosity, she caught the sight of two girls and three boys hassling a girl wearing a dark brown waist-apron and a simple, light blue dress. Her groceries were spilled by her feet.
"Loser!"
"Ow, that hurt!"
Was it even hassling? Maybe it was a couple of minutes prior, before the bullied girl kicked one girl in the abdomen; shoved a boy harshly into a second boy, causing them to fall over and scrape themselves; and finally, punching the third boy in the nose so hard, that it began to bleed.
"You never fought like this before! You're not normal!" screamed the only child who was lucky enough to avoid any physical altercations. She ran past Elise, and in seconds, the remaining children trotted past her; swearing menacingly at the girl who fought.
Elise rose a brow; impressed. She slowly made her way to the other child, who gathered five apples and placed them in her woven basket. Fighter Girl reached out to her fallen baguette . . . only to realize that it was stomped on. Pigeons already proceeded to peck at it.
"You fought well," Elise complimented as she now stood behind Fighter Girl.
"It was sloppy," came the aforementioned child's reply. She picked up her basket, and turned to face this newcomer.
Elise looked over Fighter Girl: She was a few inches taller than her; and although being cute, this young person had some light boyish features. A couple of bruises littered her jawline. She owned a pair of pale blue eyes, and her chin-length hair was naturally tousled. Elise thought that her hair's platinum blonde colour was rather stunning. "But it shooed the pests away."
A smirk. "True."
"That's too bad. Those shits ruined a perfectly good baguette." While commenting this, Elise reached into her basket, pulled out her baguette, and held it before the other.
Fighter Girl seemed a bit skeptical. "You want something in return?"
"No."
"What about you?"
"I have another one." And Elise showed her the loaf within her basket.
Fighter Girl's pale blue eyes looked to be less guarded. "Thank you . . ." She carefully took the baguette, placing it in her basket. "You're . . . That new Dr. Jaeger's daughter, right?"
A tiny bit of surprise filled Elise. "Oh, you know Daddy?"
"Been to him a few times . . . He talks about you a lot. I'm a little jealous . . ."
Elise cocked her head to the side. "Jealous? Why?"
"Oh no, did I say that?" Fighter girl blushed as she covered her mouth with the palm of her hand. And then she procured a brief, nervous laugh. "Forget that; I was thinking out loud!"
Not wanting to pry into a stranger's past, Elise complied with the other's request. "I'm Elise, by the way."
The platinum blonde-haired girl composed herself. "I'm Nanaba. Nanaba Wolfe. And I'm seven."
Elise smiled. "Ohhhh, I'm seven too! When were you born?"
For the first time since the start of their conversation, Nanaba procured a smile, albeit a tiny one. Yet even so, there was a bit of sadness hiding within her eyes. "June thirtieth."
"The first of August."
"So, we're almost twins?"
"I guess so!" Elise giggled.
Nanaba blushed again. Today was a good day.
.
.
*** After Note I – Feel free to drop a review and let me know what you think~! :D ***
*** After Note II – Admittedly, I had a little bit of trouble writing this "getting-used-to-a-brand-new-life" type of chapter – specifically as it pertains to the fact that so much had happened in little time throughout the course of Grisha and Elise arriving at the Walls and Keith integrating them into society. Trying to condense all of that whilst not making it look rushed took quite a bit of timeline double-checking, planning and scene-rearranging/deleting/adding. I didn't want to skip over those bits because they are important, but I also didn't want to expand on what doesn't really need to be expanded too much upon for this specific story. But yeah, I'm not fully satisfied with this chapter. Expect more relationship-building and character development in the next one. ***
*** After Note III – On Nanaba: Researching into Nanaba's character took no time at all. 'CAUSE THERE'S BARELY ANY INFO ON HER. *is somewhat annoyed* So, by the powers of fanfiction, I'm making her a resident of Shiganshina. I will be following the anime by making her female – same thing I'll be doing with Hange when I introduce her here later on. The anime also added a bit of backstory to her (albeit very brief) as, just before her death, she started screaming things that basically alluded to her having an abusive asshole for a "father" – I'll be incorporating a bit of that here as well. ***
*** After Note IV – So I generally answer reviews via PM; however, I'll be responding to those who I can't PM here~ :3 ***
…
Olivia: Hellooooo! *blushes happily* Yay, I'm glad to hear it~ \(*0*)/ I will apologize in advance for the fact that I am unable to update frequently due to a few reasons – these reasons are explained on my profile, so I won't re-type them here. Thank you very much, and have a lovely week~! =D
Guest: Yo! And yeah, sorry about that, but thank you for understanding. I'm glad to hear that you like this one as much as the older version. Thanks very much, and have a great week~! :D
Guest: Updated~ ;) Thank you and I hope you have a good week! :D
.