Revamped: 10/03/2021

Hiya! Initial chapters are short to set the scene. They get longer as the plot thickens!

.

.

.

.

Me? Strong? No... hardly... I'm only a weak, feeble little girl who has had everything suddenly robbed.

I am a victim of circumstance and I feel like this has ruined me...

Be strong, be strong, be strong..

.

.

.

838:

Bláithín Hahn sat alone in the sitting room, doing homework. She had returned from school not too long ago and was always quick to get her work done. Scribbling away at her book of poetry, she was too engrossed to notice the chortle came into hearing range and the blonde snapped her head around to look at her sister skipping into the room.

"What are you so chipper about, Elise?" she asked. Elise jumped on top of the plush sofa, knocking over the inkwell and it spilled all over her sister's book and sheets. "Watch it, will you?! Ugh, I'll be killed for this in school tomorrow…"

Living in Sine, she was privileged enough to go to school. Though, with the Titans still haunting their way of life, there was a limit on what they could learn. Plus, being a girl meant she was limited to certain subjects too. Girls studied arts and poetry and languages, the boys studied sciences. Though, that never stopped the encouragement of learning in the Hahn household.

"Can you play with me now? I couldn't play undercover agents without you..." her sister moped. Bláithín dabbed at her sun dress with her handkerchief and looked at the brunette with a disapproving look. "Whaddya reading there anyway?"

"'Undercover agents'? Can't say I'm totally interested in playing that," the blonde said, though her lips were twitching upwards in an affectionate smile. She ruffled her hair affectionately as she remembered. "I don't think I've played that with you since I was like ten." She murmured.

"Ah, whatever… Why are you reading anyway? You sounded all high and mighty recently when you said you wanted to join the Survey Corps. Shouldn't someone who so badly wants to be a soldier be training rather than reading?" Her sister pointed out.

Bláithín pursed her lips into a tight line, blue eyes ablaze and glimmering at the mention of the scouts. True, if one wanted to join the Survey Corps, they'd want to be somewhat built, or at least fit. Bláithín was more of the studious side, at the moment. Her parents, both leading soldiers in the Scout Regiment, taught her the very basics, but she was completely inexperienced with the gears and whatnot. Even having learned the basics from her parents, she'd be totally hopeless actually applying them in real time.

"Maybe I'm a 'late bloomer' or something," she chimed. "I'm in no rush to join it. I'll join to honour them and stereotypical and generic shit like that..." And of course, saying the word 'shit' caused her sister to erupt in a fit of giggles. Elise attempted to stifle any and all laughter by clamping her hand over her mouth. "Hey, don't tell mom and dad!" Bláithín cried.

"You stop being so grown up, it's annoying!"

Bláithín continued to scribble away at some things in her soiled notebook, mentally noting to ask for a new one, while Elise ambled up the stairs, dangerously hanging and sliding up and down the banister. It creaked loudly, loud enough for Bláithín to hear it and bitterly chastise her for it.

That was how a normal day was spent. Elise would play with Bláithín, and vice versa. It was happy and peaceful like this.

This would have been a typical day in the life of those who were of nobility or were fortunate enough to live in Mitras. It was so peaceful. Access to everything; top quality food, education, the finest clothes.

It felt so bizarrely peaceful.

Peaceful with Elise that is, someone she was comfortable with.

Awaiting her parents to return home from their latest expedition would always be tough and staying with her uncle would be even tougher. Not when every word that came out of him was a jab at the blonde and a disgruntled huff at the other Hahn sibling.

Provided they had each other and their parents safely returned, Bláithín would happily wait.

(a week later)

The postman came that Monday morning, January eleventh.

Bláithín sat alone, not wanting to show herself to her sister.

Her bedroom windows were closed and the curtains were drawn shut. Her salty, almost corrosive tears streamed down her face and stained the crumpled up piece of paper. There was a persistent, acidic burn in her stomach. The dull throbbing of her heart, the warm salty tears streaming down her puffy cheeks... It was like her tears were making a permanent burn into her face, as though she was constantly reminded of the letter she just read.

There was a burning fury in her chest that raged like a forest fire. There was rage that Titans determined their fate, ultimately, but deep, deep down, there was a girl who was very hurt.

The tears reminded her that there was no need to pinch herself; this was real and this was irreversible.

"Bláithín! Come out, please!" her sister sang. "You were just running around and playing with me a few minutes ago..."

Bláithín choked back a strangled sob that felt as though it was lodged in her trachea. Her sister's voice spoke of naivety, happiness and rainbows and damn unicorns… How on earth was Bláithín supposed to deliver the news?

Bláithín knew this day was going to come... but she wasn't expecting it to be this soon, nor was she expecting herself to be so young. She was hoping she'd be older and know how to deal with these heavy emotions if this day did come.

Unfortunately, that time in her life never came; she would have to learn how to process these emotions swiftly lest she wanted them to consume her whole.

Dead is dead; she knew full well. But her parents never taught her how to cope, nor did her estranged uncle.

Her parents were the first exceptionally dear people she lost.

A mewl from behind the door caused her head to snap up. Elise had opened up the door anyway.

The eight year old, not even taking a moment to cast a glance at her sister's complexion beamed, "Mom and Dad are coming home tomorrow, aren't they? I'm so excited!"

Her older sister sidled down from her bed sluggishly and walked over to her sister. Gripping her forearm, she shoved her out of her room and slammed the door shut.

Regret.

That was what she felt instantly after doing that. Her sister was nothing but a ray of sunshine, always sought happiness no matter what. She was a tough ten year old and had managed to fight through many difficulties. For example, when their parents were gone for a few months at a time, she would fight through it.

Fight because her sister was there. She'd tell the younger girl eventually, but she heard an inquisitive squeak when Bláithín forced her out.

This letter... Bláithín was always happy, chivalrous and warm around her loved ones, she could cope when her parents were gone for long periods… Because she was expected to. She was expected to be the mother in the absence of their own… But this letter was the one thing that broke her composure. It sawed her normally warm demeanor down the middle and into smithereens.

That was the power of grief. This was the power Death himself possessed.

She slumped up against the door before falling into a heap, clutching the letter, and had a strong desire to tear it to shreds as if it would erase the past.

Her promise to herself was that when her parents died, she would join the Training Corps. To follow in their footsteps and to honour them…

She wasn't so sure now.

Why would two grown adults be okay with carelessly throwing caution into the wind and go beyond the Walls to fight them? Two nobles, at that. That was practically unheard of.

If she was sure of one thing, it would be that she needed a bit of fresh air. She opened up the door again and traipsed down the stairs. She quickly slipped out the door, closing it before walking out into the spacious garden.

To a soldier, receiving another letter like that, they would act as though it was as innocuous as trampled flowers, but it's not like they weren't slowly falling apart on the inside.

But how could a twelve year old be expected to cope with these heavy emotions without some guardian-like figure to hold her hand and guide the way?

The naivety, the innocence, the sugar-coated, fake thoughts were simply flushed from her system in those few seconds when she read the letter. When her parents came back with smiles on their faces, happy to see their children again… what was behind those smiles...?

Anxiety? Fear? Sadness?

What was it they had just seen?

How many times had they come back and forced a smile upon their face when their infants were squealing with joy to see them when they've just been through hell?

Almost like a mime in a box, they were acting.

Bláithín, only realizing it now, was one of them.

She was naïve and oblivious to deaths going on around her, she never stopped to think about what was actually happening.

She now knew that her parents could have much sooner. She now realized they could have easily come back missing a limb.

If only she had learned how to deal with her emotions. She couldn't muster up any decency or control to look her sister in the eye when she walked into her room before and say, "No, you're wrong... Mother and Father aren't returning..." before tossing the letter on the ground for her sister to read.

To whom it may concern,

As of our most previous expedition, we are sorry to say that both Mister Simon and Misses Aisling Hahn have died. We offer you our condolences.

Whatever possessions that have been left behind shall be sent on. Their children, Bláithín and Elise Hahn are now the rightful owners,

Yours faithfully,

11th Commander of the Scout Regiment.

Hey all! I would love to receive some feedback. Thank you!

- fabuliszt