XIII –Çiçeğim
July-September, 1512

Sometimes she could not believe that she had said it.

It was what kept her tossing and turning upon her bed during the nights, her sheets tangled up between her legs. They were longer somehow, as if being seventeen had influenced their growth. She would replay the Sunday of February in her mind often. It calmed her whenever she found herself floating back to what happened with the Man last year. It was what she called it, that day. It was that Man who tried to do the unspeakable – it was that Man who she killed to save herself. The break between the nightmares extended as time passed, and sometimes she would go for days without experiencing them. Whenever she did, however, she would see his bulging eyes, his grimy nails and the pool of blood he carried with him. That was when her mind would go into safety mode, and she would force herself to think about Ymir, about every single moment they had with each other.

Yes, I could love you. I think I already do.

Did she really say that?

Krista twirled her finger around the string of her pearl necklace. It was cool against the bottom of her collarbones. Yes, that Man carried a pool with him. But she carried Ymir with her. The necklace would never leave her side, no, not even when she took a bath. Not even when she slept. It acted as an anchor to her, a reminder that she was alive, and she was happy to be as such.

The days were challenges, but this made her even more determined to get through them. Letting Ymir know about how she felt helped a great deal. Things were getting better, and she could taste it in the air. It was the sweet, evergreen scent of summer which filled her with hope. It was the long days that stretched on for hours on end, relentless and continuous, an infinite sun that refused to set.

Krista tucked the necklace back under her robes and placed the wooden board over the counter of the shop after she exited. Her father had told her to work till night-time today, but she could care less about what he said. She turned towards the mouth of the Grand Bazaar. Before she could leave, however, a tall guard stepped in front of her.

"I'm sorry, you can't leave."

"Why not?" Krista arched a brow and placed her hands on her hips.

"You haven't paid the toll yet."

"And what toll is that?"

"An embrace."

Krista broke into a wide grin and hugged the guard, unable to conceal her small laughter. After they pulled away, she said, "Ymir, you can't bribe me everytime you get me after work."

The freckled girl snorted and took her helmet off. "But you like it."

"I never said that."

"I can read your mind, çiçek."

"Really?" Krista wound her arm around the girl's. "What am I thinking right now?"

Ymir led them out into the street. "You are thinking: 'Wow, Ymir's arm is so muscular. She is so strong.'"

"I'm not thinking about that!"

"Well, one of us is lying, and it sure isn't me."

"I hate you."

"Do you really?"

"No."

Ymir smiled. "Come on, we're on the last page of Metamorphoses. I'm excited to see how it ends." She produced the book from her jacket.

"Race you to the docks!" Krista smirked and ran off.

As the wind whistled past her, she heard Ymir laughing behind her.

###

Krista sat propped against Ymir, the taller girl's legs around her like a protective circle. Her head rested upon the blonde's shoulder, the air from her nose prickling Krista's cheeks every now and then. As Krista read, she couldn't help but feel distracted about the way Ymir's chest pushed up against her back. She was a warm coat that smelled of sweat and the sea.

"None shall unwrite these words: nor angry Jove, nor war, nor fire, nor flood," said Krista, forcing her eyes to stay on the page as she felt Ymir's chin brush against the base of her neck.

"Nor venomous time that eats our lives away,
Then let that morning come, as come it will-"

Her breath hitched and she stopped.

Ymir lifted her head and turned to look at her. "What is it?"

"Look." Krista offered her the book.

With her long limbs, the brunette took it from Krista, with her arms still around the girl.

Krista bit her lip. "Familiar, right?"

"Evet," said Ymir quietly. "My father's shield."

"I thought you might want to read it out loud for us."

"Hm." She couldn't see it, but Krista knew that the girl was smiling. "They're part of the last lines of the book."

Ymir cleared her throat.

"When this disguise I carry shall be no more,
And all the treacherous years of life undone,
And yet my name shall rise to heavenly music,
The deathless music of the circling stars.
As long as Rome is the Eternal City
These lines shall echo from the lips of men,
As long as poetry speaks truth on earth,
That immortality is mine to wear."

Krista sighed and leaned back into Ymir, feeling the words sink into her brain. Though she should have felt bored at hearing it in her head for the sixth time in her lifetime, she did not. The way the poetry of old had tattooed itself onto Ymir's tongue made Krista shiver with provocation.

The brunette closed the book carefully and set it down beside her helmet. Krista heard her sigh.

"We finished it."

"We did." Krista nodded.

"You know – I think I finally understand it."

"Tell me."

"Ovid – he just wants to be remembered. He wants to live forever through his works."

Krista shook her head. "No, not Ovid. What does it mean to you?"

"Well…when I read it, it reminded me of…" Ymir paused. "…of how I've always wanted to be like my father. It's as if I've been trying to keep him alive by being him."

"You can keep him alive through memory, not impersonation." This was exactly the type of thing Krista would not say to comfort someone, but this was Ymir. She was different.

The brunette chuckled and put her hands around Krista's stomach. "After years of knowing each other, you've finally made a good joke."

"I've made good jokes before."

"Yeah, like, when you said…"

"Said…?"

"You know."

"Do I?"

Ymir squirmed behind Krista. The blonde smiled to herself and giggled. She realized she hadn't giggled in months until today.

"I'm just teasing. It's okay."

"So was it?"

"Was it what?"

"A joke."

"What do you think?" Krista twisted around to look at her. Ymir's face was in a state of red disarray. Her typically smoothed back hair had poked up in clumps. Her mouth was curled in a constipated way.

When she didn't answer, Krista shifted her whole body towards the girl. She placed her arms around her shoulders. Her heart was climbing out of her mouth and onto the surface of the docks, beating like the loudest drum in a victory march.

"It wasn't a joke, Ymir."

"So…what…" Ymir stuttered. "Are you…why?"

"Why…?"

"Why do you love me?"

"What kind of a question is that?" Krista gave a shaky laugh. "We're friends; we're supposed to love each other."

"Yes, but…I'm…not very lovable."

"Liar."

"Am not."

"You are lovable!"

"No, I'm not! I showed up at your house drunk!"

"That was one time, Ymir."

"Still."

"What, don't you want me to love you?"

"N-yes. I-I mean – well…" Ymir scratched the back of her neck. Before she could continue her sentence, however-

"I didn't know you had a lady!"

They both turned to the voice. It was someone Krista had not met in person, but someone who she recognized by description of appearance. Embarrassed, she scrambled off Ymir and stood up, straightening her robes. As much as she wanted to feel at ease, her ingrained manners of courtesy overtook her and she gave a slight bow. Ymir groaned audibly and got up to her feet as well.

"Connie," she growled. "Out of all the times you could have visited."

The boy shrugged. "I was just passing by. Saw you. Saw your lady."

"She's not-we're-" Ymir threw her hands up in the air.

Krista took a deep breath. "We are friends."

"Friends?" Connie raised an eyebrow. "What kind of friends sit really close and look like they are whispering cinsel ilişki to each other?"

The blonde blushed brightly at the comment. Was that really how they looked like?

"I'm going to tell you right now, Connie." Ymir sighed. "I really appreciate the fact that you're looking after my horses, but I feel like your head is shaved right down to your brain."

"I will take that as a compliment, you eşek." Connie nodded towards Krista. "We have never spoken, but I'm sure Ymir has told you about me."

Krista nodded. "A pleasure to meet you, Connie."

"Likewise. I'm sorry I mistook you for being the lady of this ahmak. Allah knows no one can stand her for more than ten minutes."

"You are overdoing it." Ymir rolled her eyes. "Why don't I introduce you to the others so you don't have to bother me and Krista ever again?"

"Sounds good."

###

Sasha took to Connie like a fly on a piece of fruit. When one told a very bad joke, the other told an equally horrible one. Everyone else cringed at their hinging sense of humour, but Krista felt happy when she saw Mikasa smiling at them. The Yüz Dördüncü was grinning from ear to ear as they welcomed a new friend to prod at. Connie seemed to enjoy the attention he was getting, and at least no one pressed him or Ymir for the more personal reasons as to how they knew each other. When evening fell, their stomachs rumbled and Sasha suggested that meeting Connie called for a small celebration.

As the summer breeze ruffled through their robes and their trousers, the large group of friends headed for a nearby eatery which, according to Sasha, served the best kebabs and gözleme. The patrons gawked at them as they came laughing and jostling like a small army of children. The biggest table that the eatery had was a table for seven, so the nine of them had to squeeze tightly together to fit. Krista's right arm bumped comfortably with Ymir, whilst her left was occupied with Mikasa's elbow.

Overhead, the stars twinkled and shot through the sky like bright petals. A balmy sensation resounded inside Krista's heart. It had been such a long time since she had been with friends like this. What she went through in the past year was a frozen and lurid wasteland composed of nothing but dark visions and sweaty mornings. Though it would be a long time until her heart could fully heal from it, being with the people she cared for gave her a revived sense of purpose in her life.

When the plates of food were brought to them, the table turned into a battlefield. As Krista reached for a skewer, a hand shot out and grabbed it. As she tested her luck for a piece of lamb, it went straight for someone's mouth. She narrowed her eyes, a plan burrowing into her mind.

"Ben ay ışığı altında çıplak dans!" she exclaimed.

Everyone stopped eating and gaped at her, bits of food visible in their chewing mouths. Krista quickly took this chance to scavenge the remaining pieces of gözleme and stuff them on her plate.

Sasha swallowed heavily. "You…dance naked under the moonlight?"

"Hay Allah!" Connie almost choked. "I did not know women did such things!"

"We don't." Krista gave them a smug smile and proceeded to eat.

"You embesiler!" Ymir laughed. "She said that to distract you. Look, her plate is full of the food now!"

"Genius," Mina said. "When I grow up, I want to be like Krista hanim."

"Why am I not surprised?" Mikasa stifled a snort. "Remember the first time we played cards? She beat us."

"I still haven't recovered my dignity from that," said Tomas.

"Neither of us have." Franz nodded.

Ymir leaned herself against the blonde. "I don't expect anything less from my Krista."

"Your Krista?" Connie asked. "Wait – are you married? Wait…is that even allowed?"

The whole table went silent, engrossed in thought and question. Mikasa side-eyed Connie with subtle daggers, her arms crossed. The apprentices had their eyes to the sky, as if Allah was in the clouds about to give them their answers. Sasha tapped her chin with a piece of bread. Ymir had become rigid and unmoving beside Krista, staring down at the table. The blonde wanted nothing more but to shrink into her seat, to mould her body into the wood.

"Connie…" Sasha whispered. "Nikah is between a man and a woman."

He shook his shaven head. "My father told me that marriage is between two people who love each other."

Ymir raised her head slightly. Krista could see that her cheeks were a bright pink. "My father said that too."

"The Qur'an does not agree," said Mikasa. "But you do not need it to love."

As she dropped the last word, Krista found herself staring up at Ymir's brown eyes. They were like the ridges on the bark of a tree, forever swirling in their sturdy yet striking way.

"Funny story," Krista gave a small laugh, but it was distracted and wispy. "When I went with Ymir for her enlistment, the recruiter thought I was her wife."

Franz beamed at her. "I am not surprised, Krista hanim. You and Ymir abla look like you've been married for years."

"Years, huh?" Ymir gazed down at Krista, a smile playing on her lips.

Krista took a sip of her drink and muttered something only she and Ymir could hear. "Yıllar ve yıllar."

###

Years and years, indeed:

Years of the wars,
Years of the hardships,
Years of raising a child that
Was Krista's but not Ymir's.

Two weeks later, in late July, Krista left her house sporting a brand new bruise on her lower left cheek. Though she wanted to stop him, she couldn't. He would not let her leave the house unless he got what he wanted – her pain. The hit was blunt, done by the back of his hand, and though it sprung tears to her eyes, she had quickly wiped them away before she could give him the full satisfaction. As she stepped off the front porch, a voice greeted her. It was dressed in a simple vest, a loose shirt and a fading smile.

"Krista!" Ymir took her hand. "Are you okay?"

The blonde nodded. They began walking away.

"Are you sure? Look at yourself - that's a new purple stain!"

"I'm fine, Ymir," said Krista. Truthfully, the sting of it had not worn off completely and she was silently wincing in agony.

The brunette did not seem convinced, but kept silent as they strolled along the streets of Constantinople. The city was awake with fluid business, the scent of bazlama filling the air like warm hands upon cold skin. Whenever Ymir had no posting of her own, she chose to leave command to her men for awhile and spent her free time with Krista. She would always be at the blonde's whim, following whatever she wanted to do. Walks around the city were usually what they did, since it calmed Krista and helped her forget that though she was living with an absolute monster, the world around her was still beautiful. When they were within sight of the Hippodrome, Krista stopped and ushered Ymir to sit with her by one of the benches that sat by its mouth. Two square pools glittered behind them, the water a mirror of the blue sky overhead.

"Beautiful day," Krista said.

Ymir leaned forward, her elbows on her lap, hands clasped together. "You know, I am starting to earn a good amount of money from being a guard."

"You told me you had slacked off in the past year. How are you still earning?"

"Do not worry about that. I have already come to my senses."

"Never blame yourself again."

"It's hard not to."

"Ymir…"

"I get fifteen akçe every week. There are, in general, four weeks in a month…" Ymir counted off her fingers. "That is sixty silvers a month. If I save enough every month, within a year and some I could buy a new house."

Krista smiled. "That is a good idea."

"A big house and you could live with me!" Ymir grinned.

A blush crept to Krista's cheeks. "W-what?"

"You would have your own room, of course. We could have a big living room so we can invite everyone else over sometimes!"

"I don't understand…I mean, I already have an adequate home, Ymir."

"You would never have to come home to him ever again. You could do whatever you wanted. No more bruises." Ymir pointed to her cheek.

Krista brushed her fingers against the swelling spot. "But…the only way I could really live with you was if we were married. And you know we would never be able to get married."

"Why not?"

"We are both women."

"Have you forgotten that I am Ymir bey?"

"Well, no, but…what about my father? He would just air it out that you are a woman and…and…Allah knows what they would do to us." Krista lowered her voice at the last word.

"I did not think about that part." Ymir lifted the corners of her mouth. "I know my plan has a lot of knots, but trust me. I will make it happen."

"You are sevimli, Ymir. Too sweet."

"It's not about being sweet, Krista." The brunette's eyes turned towards her. They were serious, but they were affectionate. "It's about making sure that you are safe and happy."

The words hit her like the crashing of a tidal wave against a cliff. It was forceful and carried by inexpressible emotion. Krista wanted to drown in those words. She wanted to feel the foam of it upon her lips; she wanted to taste the salt upon her tongue.

"But I am happy," she said.

"If you are happy then I want to make you happier."

"And if I become happier?"

"Then it will be my goal to make you the happiest. The happiest girl in this world." The way she said this was almost a sigh – a breath of soft wind that seems as if it had been blowing in their direction for an eternity now. "If there is anything you want, I will give it to you."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

Krista's heart hammered inside her chest. "Heal my bruise."

"Of course. There are a few herbs I know of – a doctor-"

"No." She traced the indigo mark with a finger. "You will place your roots here so that when he comes to strike me again, I will remember the flower you have planted and stop him."

"I-" Ymir was at a loss for words. "Are you...sure?"

Krista nodded. "If that is okay with you."

"It is okay, çiçeğim. It is okay."

Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the girl and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. Shyly, she took Ymir's hand and clutched it firmly. For a few seconds nothing but the sun fell upon her skin, nothing but the air drifted through her bones. Then – she felt it. A tender, clumsy warmth dropped onto her cheek. At first she thought it was going to hurt – not only from the impact of lips against her bruise – but also from the fear that it was not going to be as comforting as she hoped.

But it was.

It was the love she had never received from a mother, the gentle reassurance that life was going to be alright. It was a love so light that you would think it never brought any burdens with it. The kiss on her cheek did not hurt, no – Ymir's breath was hanging upon her, her lips puckered and tender, apprehensive but caring. Krista smiled. A tear cascaded down her cheek, and she felt it take a turn around Ymir's mouth.

Afterwards, Ymir wiped the tear away from Krista's face.

They sat for awhile, silent and unmoving, but this silence was a moment of tranquillity too pure to describe.

It was there, and it simply was.

Such are beautiful things.

###

{An apology, from the world}

Beautiful things are meant to be destroyed
And it starts with the announcement of a new Grand Vizier,
A duty that cannot be escaped,
And a man who will never stop hunting
For the woman who escaped him
Three years ago.

NOTE: Chapter is: "My Flower". Used as an endearing term.

GLOSSARY

cinsel ilişki - sexual intercourse, sex

eşek -ass

ahmak - jerk

gözleme - is a savoury traditional Turkish pastry dish, made of hand-rolled dough that is lightly brushed with butter and eggs, filled with various toppings, sealed, and cooked over a griddle.

Ben ay ışığı altında çıplak dans - "I dance naked under the moonlight".

Hay Allah - "Gosh!" or "My God!" along those lines

embesiler - imbeciles

nikah - marriage

Yıllar ve yıllar - "Years and years"

akçe - in silvers, Ottoman currency

sevimli - sweet