This is a special chapter, but I would recommend reading it regardless even if it isn't necessarily advancing the plot. It does show Bláithín and Elise's upbringing, Aisling's earlier interactions with Sven and the downfall of her and Simon's relationship. Typical star-crossed lover trop. It is formatted in a way similar to a diary entry.
Note for clarity: Not all of these are memories from the diary. They will be formatted with a month and a year if they are. Diary entries that appear in her vision/memories have the words 'Diary Entry' above it. Memories with just a year are just other memories that get elaborated on later in the story but needed to be included in for the sake of the plot.
TW (this is a dark chapter): depression, infant loss, emotional abuse, gore at the end
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She was beautiful; stunning.
Aisling Hahn had captured the hearts of many suitors at just nineteen years old. Golden hair that cascaded down her back and shining cerulean eyes that left any man obsessed. Her voice carried with her melodies that would leave people dizzy and wanting more. Kindness and charisma that would persuade anyone to follow her yet also a sense of courage that was required as future heir of the Hahn household.
These were the traits of a future ruler of her land and there was once no better person fit for the role than Aisling Hahn.
Until her mental downfall and untimely demise that is.
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Diary entry #1. July, 822:
Another strange dream by the river…
The blonde had woken up from her slumber disoriented and it took her a few seconds to get her bearings. Beads of sweat dotted her brows and temples. She patted the bed and pushed herself up. When she felt her nose begin to tickle, she brought a hand up to rub it.
"Ah…" she aired, bringing her hand up into the light that shone through the window.
The door to her grandiose bedroom was pushed open. It was the maid, June, coming in with her trolley carrying her breakfast and the morning paper. It was a plate of fruit and pastries with a pot of coffee; the newspaper rested on top of it having been ironed. This was standard procedure - an elegant breakfast fit for an elegant lady - for someone who was next in line to inherit the estate.
"I do hope you're feeling better, ma'am. You had taken ill last ni- oh, my Lady!" the maid gasped. She abandoned the trolley and hurried over to the blonde. Handkerchief immediately equipped; she began to dab to the girl's nose. "Your nose is bleeding again!" the maid cried. Aisling looked down at her fingers which were now splotched in blood, the red getting in under her nails. The maid looked into her eyes and her lips parted. "And your eyes, they're glowing… My Lady, what can I-?"
"Please, inform my father and send him in." Aisling ordered, curtly. The maid dashed out, hastily, almost tripping up on her way out.
The current lord of the manor waltzed in quickly once he heard the news. Her father stood by her bedside and looked into the golden eyes; they only glowed after these strange dreams.
"Has Niamh spoken to you again?" he asked her. Aisling nodded slowly, reaching for the covers. "It's a shame she affects you physically so. Clearly, she had something important to say…"
The girl by the river had a favour that was being entrusted to Aisling and it was a favour she had been warned about for quite some time; she was told to be ready for it. But this… no, why was Niamh asking her to do this? To do something and not have all the information at her disposal as to why this was necessary?
"She's been speaking a lot to your brother too." Her father added.
Aisling nodded again and let out a pensive sigh.
"It's high time we pay a visit… to cousin Uri." She announced.
Diary entry #7. August, 822:
"So, it was a success, then, I take it?" Sven asked for clarification. The young, blond male had a pen and paper in his hands, scribbling away at something.
Sven, Aisling, their father and Uri sat in the sitting room of the Hahn estate. The fire was lit and was creating a suffocating warmth, faces growing red from the sweltering heat. The four were huddled around a coffee table while they sat on the plush sofa. There was a sense of tension that had long been permeating around the room.
The man in line to be king of the Walls spoke first. "It would be," Uri answered, plainly. "While I admit I wasn't expecting this to happen so quickly, I suppose it's not a bad thing. This, er… ritual, our families engage in together. I believe for centuries the Hahns and the Reiss families went their separate ways until your mother and father, am I right?"
Sven stayed quiet at this, reclining into the back of his chair. He let out a groan and held his head in his hands. Aisling looked to their father, hoping he'd answer.
"Yes, Uri, that is correct." Their father, Owen, spoke.
"Aisling, are you feeling okay?" Uri asked her. The girl only nodded, and she averted her gaze from her father; after all, it didn't matter if she was okay - this was just something that had to be done.
It was just a polite thing to do after all, to ask her if she was okay. Everyone knew she didn't want to do this.
There had been a major shift in mood and energy once Niamh started communicating with them, and while their father assured them that the messages they received might be intense, it was normal to feel a bit bogged down and saddened by what she was telling them. But there was a major difference between the two siblings' visions: while Aisling was getting messages of the past and Niamh was outwardly telling her what to do, Sven was rarely getting messages from the past, but of the future instead.
Aisling then looked over at Sven who had let out another groan. She ran her hand through his mop of blond, wavy hair and she gestured for him to look at her. He opened his eyes that were glowing, golden streaks glistening against the fire.
"What is she saying, Sven?" Aisling asked.
Sven closed his eyes as he focused on the images that were flooding through his head. It was a kaleidoscope of images and not many of them made sense. He could only make out the images of the man-eating beasts coming through, though he had never been there to see them firsthand. He saw a great fire engulfing a house and he saw massive bloodshed. These images all had one thing in common: the colour red.
He saw a short, blonde woman with the funny gears and the forest green cloak the Survey Corps wear…
He saw himself choking amongst the flames, struggling to breathe…
Wait, was Niamh telling him he was going to die? But… how, why? Better yet, when? Was Niamh even showing him the full story?
"Blood is going to be spilled, though I can't say when…" Sven spoke, vaguely.
"Niamh surely can't see too far into the future, right?" Aisling asked her father. "What is it she has shown you?"
"The powers she bestows upon us are very inconsistent and entirely random, as far as we know. One day, Aisling, when my time to leave this world comes, I'll tell you everything I know." He replied.
Sven gasped and he opened his eyes. "I see… a child."
"Whose?" Aisling asked.
Sven looked over at his sister and he took in her features. Yes, the child he saw in his memories or visions was the spit and image of Aisling. "Yours, I believe… A girl, blonde hair and blue eyes… I see you cradling her."
Aisling retreated inwardly as she looked down at her tummy. When was this girl going to be a part of her life? Just how far into the future had Sven seen?
Sven eyed his sister precariously and he got up to stir the fire, rocks of coal sliding against each other and sparking embers that snapped and cracked. His back was turned for he did not want anyone in the room to see the despairing look on his face, especially Aisling.
How could he tell his beloved sister that her child would be the one to kill him?
Diary entry #13. September, 822:
Tonight was the same as most weeknights: performing for the elites in salon bars throughout Mitras. Although there was a problem: she was missing her collaborative pianist. She waited anxiously behind the curtains of the theatre, wondering what she could say to the audience that waited for her to sing; some of whom had travelled a whole day just to see her.
It was her biggest performance to date and the pianist cancelled last minute due to illness. What terrible luck. Her hair was tied back into a neat bun and had a minimal sheen of makeup applied to her face; nothing that would cake her features too much but only highlight them. She wore a loosely fitted dress that sat upon her skin as soft as petals, its hue the many pinks of a rose garden. The dress hung on her shoulders and touched the floor.
It wasn't form fitting. Loose enough to hide her condition, one might say.
"Miss Aisling!" her maid called out. The blonde whirled around, quickly at that, to the point the throbbing pains she had been getting in her head the past while returned. Behind June stood a tall man she hadn't seen before. "We found a pianist and better yet, he's played the repertoire you're singing tonight!"
"Is that him?" Aisling asked, pointing to the much taller man behind June.
"Please, sir, introduce yourself."
The tall man stepped forward, clad in an elegant waistcoat and pristinely white dress shirt. Black slacks and polished black shoes, the brown-haired man bowed his head in admiration. He had heard of the famed soprano and had attended her concerts before, but never would he have expected to have been brought in at the last minute as a pianist. He was tall, almost a foot taller than the five-foot three woman before him. Who knew such a petite woman could possess such a powerful voice?
"I'd be delighted to accompany you, ma'am," he spoke, smoothly. "The name's Simon Adler. I come from a successful farming family in Wall Rose, but I regularly perform in Mitras too."
Aisling looked up at him and nodded. Heavens, his height was almost intimidating. Hahns didn't grow tall, typically. She nodded, she didn't need to suss him out; she had to get on stage and do what she was being paid for.
He smiled at her warmly. The man had a very charming smile, one that almost cleansed her of all worries.
The order was made for the curtains to rise after the pianist and soprano briefly discussed the order of the programme. He walked out behind her, sheet music in hand and sat down at the grand instrument. The stage gave her permission to be her true self and not be shackled by her familial duties: she who was free to be herself, to believe in herself and feel her own worth.
To be someone who didn't only exist who served her family; someone who didn't only exist to serve Niamh.
This Simon fellow was certainly a talented pianist. He could keep up with her no matter what, despite having never rehearsed with her, and he played with great sensitivity. He had played these pieces before, but to truly get a feel for the songs she had to sing, perhaps he knew the text she was singing also. How else could he play with such precision yet with such inherent musicality?
At the end of the programme, the two received a standing ovation. Simon stood up next to her and she took her hand in his and guided him into a bow. The two were smiling ear to ear and both looked at each other. They nodded after bowing a second time and he gestured for the woman to walk ahead of him.
Aisling sat down on a stool behind the curtains and began to fan herself. Simon stood with his back turned to her as he cracked his knuckles before whirling around to face her. He approached her with that same charming smile as before. As quickly as the smile formed, it vanished.
He bent down to her level. "Ma'am? You're awfully pale, are you alright?" he asked, kindly.
She blinked at him and she quickly flashed him a smile. "Pale? Don't be silly. Just a bit tired after that." She quickly dismissed.
He shook his head and walked over to the table where there seemed to be refreshments laid out. Not much, just some fruit and a jug or two of water. He produced his handkerchief and poured a glass of water over it before walking back to the shorter woman. Aisling eyed him precariously as he pressed the back of his hand against her forehead.
"Are you sure? You're burning up," he said and pressed the soaked fabric against her forehead. He brought a hand up, silently telling her to keep a hold of it.
She smiled sadly as the two kept their eyes on each other. When was the last time she was met with such basic human kindness?
"Yeah, it's… nothing I can't handle," she said, her voice getting softer with every word. She noticed his frown turn deeper at her words, concern written all over his face. She brought up her hand to get him to not worry, but she felt her throat burn as the lunch from earlier today creeped up her oesophagus. Though she cupped her mouth just in time as Simon stood out of the way, it didn't stop her mouth from spilling its contents entirely.
The brunette grimaced and he looked at her pitifully. "Well, at least you didn't get my shoes."
"You should count your lucky stars, then; I was aiming for them." She joked.
The two engaged in a bit of small talk before Aisling heard a clapping come from her left. She turned her head and saw her blond sibling walk over to her, two guards following behind him.
"Aisling, dearest, my apologies for not making it to tonight's performance," he said to her. He bent down and kissed her on the head. "I did, however, hear that you were wonderful…" he said, voice laced with genuine pride for his sibling. Her brother turned on his heel towards the taller man and he eyed him up and down. Simon stood another six inches above her brother but unlike Aisling, he would never buckle to someone taller than him. "And this is…?"
Aisling panicked as she looked at him. "Sven, please, it's okay," she said, noting that her brother was staring at him with daggers in his blue eyes. "This is… my new accompanist from now on." She lied swiftly.
Sven Hahn nodded and turned back to face his sister. "This man isn't on the list of accompanists father and his Royal Highness have approved of. Does Uri know?"
"No, Sven, it was all very last minute."
Yes, it was last minute that Simon was her accompanist, but it was meant to be just for tonight. There was something in the brunette's smile that made her want to sing with him again. He was talented, no doubt about it, but his kindness towards her had her already wanting more. The way he looked at her and didn't molly coddle her, or didn't need to walk on eggshells around her, or he wasn't constantly bearing down on her about her duty. He just spoke to her as another person.
To think that something so normal - to talk to someone without their title and to be none the wiser or ignore the weight behind her name - would be so cherished and appreciated…
She had no one ever stop and check in on her the way he did. At least, not for a long, long time.
Sven sighed heavily but a smile quickly glossed over his lips, a genuine smile. "Sorry, Aisling, for doubting you."
"It's okay, I know you have your reasons." She said.
He nodded and he passed a smile towards the taller man. Simon nodded back in respect. "Alright, sister. I'll be waiting for you outside in the hansom." He stated before turning around, his men following behind him.
Simon and Aisling were left by themselves. Simon was walking over to a coat hanger and retrieved his tweed jacket, shrugging it over him. Aisling hesitantly walked up to him, twiddling with her thumbs.
"Uh, sorry for putting you on the spot like that…" she murmured. She nervously swept a lock of hair behind her ear.
Simon looked at her with a puzzled expression. "Don't be, I see it only as a form of flattery, ma'am…" he drawled. He looked around the backstage area, checking that he had everything before he stared back at the smaller girl. Her eyes were glistening for the second time that night when they looked at each other; the first was when they were on stage. The sight almost made his cheeks become dusted with a light pink. "I, uh…"
"Let's meet here every other day and rehearse!" she beamed with a radiant smile. She was already leaving him as she headed out the side door of the theatre, not wanting to keep her brother waiting. "We can make programmes together and plan future engagements!" she yelled out and waved.
Aisling didn't give him a choice in the matter, really.
Nor did he care; he'd see her again in two days from now and he couldn't have been more excited.
Diary entry #20. November, 822:
Owen, Aisling, and Sven sat in their father's office.
To the left of his desk was the four-poster bed with elegant curtains draped around it. Though, he never slept there anymore and only at his desk; his bed hadn't been comfy once the heavens above called for his wife. To his right, was an oak bookshelf. It was varnished and shined, having been cleaned recently. It held a wealth of knowledge, books written in a language the siblings didn't speak too well.
"And that is why Niamh entrusts us with this mission, to make up for her past mistakes…" their father explained to them.
"Why is it this generation of Hahns that is suddenly being tasked with this enormous responsibility…? And even then, Niamh isn't giving us everything we need to know? Why?!" Sven cried.
"Our connection to her isn't strong enough, it seems. It was your grandparents who started seeing Niamh again after centuries of no contact. I did… the unthinkable, and even then, my connection to her hasn't granted me with more information," he elaborated further. "She doesn't control us, though, it is just a mission to atone for the sin she committed…"
The unthinkable?
Ah, he doesn't like mentioning aloud, does he? Aisling pondered to herself.
Aisling knew what this meant, but only to a certain extent. Their father called them in to give them a run-down of their ties back to this girl named Niamh, but even then, he wasn't giving them all the information they needed. Why was Niamh not telling him more?
"And… if we refuse and ignore her? Why can't you tell us more?" Sven asked.
Owen looked up, a sombre look in his blue eyes and they suddenly flashed with a flicker of gold.
"Danu's Blight is what they call the condition that befalls those who disobey her. She has afflicted our bloodline with a few complications as it is, already. This one is the worst by far. It's similar to that of the Curse of Ymir."
Aisling began to zone out when he went into the nitty-gritty stuff.
Seemed that no one in this family was ever free, all because of something Niamh did almost two thousand years ago.
"...descend into madness as she no longer finds you valuable and your body slowly falls apart, bit by bit, as your powers are absorbed back into her will…"
Her ears perked up at the last bit. So, she really had no choice after all? She had originally thought that, yes, her mission was a duty, but she could shrug it off if the possibility arose. But now… to be punished with a slow, agonizing death as your body and mind deceive you and begin to fail…
Sven slowly stood up and Aisling looked at him. His eyes were shining with determination and he looked at them both with a toothy grin. It was a smile that she had never quite seen before, as if he just discovered something or had an earth-shattering idea.
"I will accept any task Niamh entrusts me!" he announced. He stood up straighter and smoothed back his blond hair. "Father, I wish to return to my study. May I be excused?" he asked. His father grunted with a nod and off he went.
Aisling didn't like the smile that was plastered on her brother's face and she dreaded to know the reasoning behind it. People in this family rarely smiled after all.
She eyed the older man precariously. His hair was now beginning to recede further down his head, and he noticed how his hands were beginning to twitch, as they had been doing a lot recently. The man was young enough at forty-eight, yet he was walking with a cane these days and his gait was slow, wobbly, and hesitant.
Don't tell me…
"Father, there's a reason you're telling me all this now, isn't there?"
"Yes, for one day you'll have to do the unthinkable, too…" he said before coughing to clear his throat.
Aisling bit her lower lip and pressed further. "And… I'll be doing this sooner than you had expected, huh?"
Her father looked at her sadly as he took her infinitely younger hands in his, giving them an affectionate squeeze. "I'm sorry for the misery that is to come your way, child… I'd prevent it if I could."
He reclined in his chair as the visions enveloped him - wrapped around him - like a suffocating hug that you didn't want. His poor daughter, heir to the Hahn wealth, luxuries, status and powers… was to be set on a path crueller than death itself.
As a father, he'd step in and shoulder it if he could.
The word if was key here.
But he couldn't, that was not what was written in the stars, seemingly.
"Alas, I can't… Danu's Blight has begun for me."
Diary entry #26. December, 822
Fate would play out in such a way that Aisling was really sick one morning. Even so, she rushed to the theatre, not wanting to keep Simon waiting. Sven and Owen didn't mind that she was meeting Simon anymore, as her performances always kept the Hahn family as the talk of the town. It was enough to keep anybody from ever suspecting anything about the oh-so secretive plan that was being orchestrated by the Hahn family - not that anybody would ever suspect them of anything anyway. But even the Reiss family was still in the dark about a few matters.
A mutual interest shared between the families was to keep the fake king in power; nobody needed to know the true identity of the Reiss family, and no one needed to know the involvement of Hahns.
And so, Aisling and Simon continued to perform together all throughout Mitras.
It was a blustery, winter morning when Aisling made her way into the backstage of the theatre. She had a thick, fur coat wrapped around her frame and a scarf wrapped around her throat. She could hear Simon warming up with scales on the piano on the stage and she swiftly made her way out to him. When he heard her footsteps, the tall man pushed the stool out and turned around to greet her, flashing her the same charming smile he always did. He stepped forward to her and pulled her close to him for an affectionate squeeze.
"Aisling, how are you doing?" he asked, fondly.
Of course, she instantly felt better around him. He was the first friend she had had in a very long time, and he was someone she had so much in common with.
She pulled away and smiled at him.
"You sick again? You're sick a lot these days," he said, a brow arching as he studied her features; her cheeks were flushed and she looked exhausted. "Have you been eating lately?"
"I've… sort of developed many aversions to foods recently."
"So, that's a no?" he asked. Aisling nodded and he gasped. The lanky man reached down for his coat and took her by the arm. "We got to get some food in you! Come on, how about we go to that café downtown that you mentioned before?"
Aisling's eyes widened at the proposition. No, he was just her accompanist, at least to the public eye. She was a noblewoman whose reputation and her family's could be on the line in seconds if she was spotted outside with someone her family didn't immediately approve of. Being her accompanist was okay, but anything else was not.
Though, what was her family to expect when she intentionally asked to meet with this man a few times a week?
Even so, she had to refuse lest she wanted a rumour or two to begin circulating that a woman of her calibre - someone who was to inherit the wealth of one of the most famous families within the Walls - was spotted out with a man. Word would instantly get back to her family and she mightn't be able to see him… And she so desperately wanted to stay friends with him.
"Your hesitation tells me you don't want to spend more time with me outside of these rehearsals…" he concluded.
No, I do, I really do, she wanted to say. But she couldn't.
"Is it because… you're married? And you don't want to be seen with another man in public?" he asked. She bit her lower lip, her face beginning to flush. "No need to be shy about it… Though, you don't seem to be wearing-"
"I'm pregnant, Simon, with a man I am meant to marry in a few years from now." She announced.
Simon knew the woman often dressed in many layers and often chose looser-fitting dresses for performances. But when she shrugged off her thick coat, he was surprised to see her statement confirmed. Simon pursed his lips and nodded, but even despite the awkwardness that permeated between them, he smiled fondly.
"And we can't have you go hungry in your condition either. I'll go get something for us!" he smiled.
And so, a half hour later, Simon sat her down at the edge of the stage with both their legs dangling over the edge. In between them was a torn open paper bag and inside it was some bread, fruits and some sweet treats. They talked and talked for hours, both passing jokes back and forth and sharing food, and it was the most fun either person had had with one another.
Working together was great but being truly human was another thing.
She was free with him. And every minute spent with him had her yearning for more freedom.
He watched her babble on about everything and anything when she was with him, but when her father or brother and the guards came around, she fell silent very quickly once more.
He had no idea what was going on behind the scenes but if she was capable of being that happy around him… well, a part of him wanted to see her more, to make sure she would smile more; that she could be free more; so that she could breathe easy.
With Simon, Aisling was on top of the world for she was with the only friend she ever truly had; she was capable of being reckless, passionate, caring. And he knew that even if she was trapped in some messy situation at home, that that child in there would be very lucky to have her as mom.
"Stay with me longer, we still have time to kill." He spoke, softly.
Aisling blinked at him owly, blue eyes sparkling at his request. And as usual, she closed in on herself, her back hunching and her head lowering. Her hands started to curl in on themselves but as soon as they started doing that, he had reached for her hands and brought them out.
As if to pull her out of her shell almost.
"Don't do that, you'll ruin your posture…" he whispered, softly. He studied her pretty features for a moment before standing up. "I suppose you'll need to be helped up now, huh. How far along are you?"
Aisling reached for the hand he had offered. "Five months now, due in early April."
He pulled her up and they walked back over to the instrument. He sat down on the stool and looked at the music for a few seconds, allowing silence to envelope. It was a comfortable silence, something she wasn't used to.
"Do I have to keep bringing you food from now on?" Simon jeered, "Is that what it takes for you to open up to me?"
"What?! No! How could you be so rude!" she yelled back.
But then she laughed.
Gods, she hadn't done that in a painfully long time.
I want to laugh some more with you, you take my mind off everything, she said to herself before turning around to her music stand to sing her little heart out.
Diary entry 32. February, 823:
And so, time ticked by. The siblings both celebrated their birthday in the early days of January and while a bit of a party was in order, it was cancelled when their father's condition worsened.
When her pregnancy progressed to the point that singing was making her a bit more breathless than normal, she temporarily retired and had to stop singing publicly. That never stopped her from communicating through letters. Mail was slow, but she'd always get a letter back from him every week and she found that the more they wrote, the longer her letters - essays, even - became.
"Ma'am, where are you off to?" June asked. In the bustling streets of Mitras, the guards behind the maid stayed no more than three feet away from the heiress at all times. "We have so much to do today!"
Aisling didn't answer as she ran off to the letterbox at the end of the street. Running to the letterbox and waiting for Simon's letters had made her feel the most free and happiest in years. But almost as soon as the letter was pushed through, she could feel her heart shrivel up like dried fruit. She locked up her emotions again and tossed away the key. A guard held her by the arm and tugged her back into her maid's line of sight.
"You mustn't run off like that, Lady Aisling, I'll get in so much trouble for it!" she cried.
At that moment, Aisling didn't care.
In fact, she had stopped caring about many things. When so many things never went her way for so long, it's not like her opinion for anything ever mattered.
It's not like she mattered apart or was worth anything apart from delivering this child.
"Now, come on… we must go to a new doctor as the family doctor is out of town. A lovely man and former friend of your father!" June beamed. "His name is Doctor Charles Ashdown. He'll do a check-up and make sure everything is running smoothly. After that, we have to get your measurements taken for your wedding dress!"
No matter how enthusiastically June spoke, Aisling could never bring herself to feel happy. Simon was capable of doing that, but no one else.
June and the guards led her down a familiar cul-de-sac of houses that were all tucked neatly together. She recognised this street and it brought a sense of familiarity and calm; calm because she knew that the guards and maid had never been here before.
Aisling bought a small house at the very end of the lane with the money she had inherited from her mother's death. It was her own little sanctuary for when life became too convoluted and messy. It would also be a place for any children she ever had. Though she didn't care much for the child she was forced to carry, she still vowed to keep them from the limelight of the Hahns and the nobility. She wanted her children to have a secure life, a normal life; a life wherein they'd marry who they want and never be tied down.
A life of freedom.
June rapped on the door, briskly. A man with glasses with a white shirt and doctor's coat answered. He was young, mid-twenties perhaps. He smiled down at the blonde-haired woman, but he soon recognised the familiar features that so tragically brought about many unfortunate memories.
"This is the lady I am examining?" he asked, venom dripping from his tone.
"Sir, is there a problem?" June asked, innocently.
Charles rubbed his chin in thought, but when he saw Aisling's eyes that seemed to be acting as a dam for her emotions, he sighed.
"It's fine…Come in," Charles gestured with a hand, pointing towards the exam room. But, when the maid and the guards walked through, the doctor extended his arm, separating Aisling from her entourage. "I should have clarified; I said 'come in' to the girl, not to you." He said with a scowl. His tone had an element of threat. "Get out."
"But, sir, this pregnancy is important to Lord Hahn, he must know what-!" June panicked.
"Get your guards out, I said. Hell, can a woman not have some privacy as she converses with a doctor?" he pressed. "Get. Out."
A bit of persuasion, so to speak, was needed for the guards and maid to leave and he ordered them to wait outside. He firmly shut the door and locked it and proceeded to close all windows of the house. He slipped on a pair of gloves and walked into the exam room, finding the young lady already lying down on the bed.
"Aisling Hahn, correct? H-How… is your family?" he asked.
Aisling sat up like a pole, palm of her hand on her stomach. "You ask as though you know them personally…?" she tested with knitted brows.
"Yes, I once knew your brother. Worked there for a year or so as his servant and guard. Paid well while I was studying medicine and… I left not long after. Six months ago, actually." He spoke.
"You live close to my own house, next door actually." She said, casually. Charles almost dropped the notebook in his hand in shock, gaping at her. There's no way… had she come to look for him personally? Did she know he lived here? "You seem frightened at the thought of a Hahn living next to you, what's that about?"
Charles blinked. "You swear you're only here for a doctor's check-up?"
Aisling just stared at him as she settled back onto the examination bed. "Yes? Ah… you're wary of working for a Hahn after you served us, is that correct? I mean-"
Panic left the doctor paralysed and made him look wholly unprofessional. He could feel his pulse increasing and the air in the room was suddenly hot and suffocating. He fell to his knees before the blonde and held his head in his hands, crying out for mercy or forgiveness. Both, perhaps.
"I may have stumbled across plans and theories by your brother and I fear for my life every day with the amount of information I know!" he screeched. "If I am to be punished… Make it quick…"
Aisling sat back up and watched the man grovel for sins he had not committed.
She had never seen this man before; their maids and servants had no reason to interact with each other unless something serious had been uttered or was about to happen. And with the sheer volume of guards and maids that flocked around the manors like headless chickens, there's no way she'd know the name of them all. She moved off the seat and bent down as much as she could.
She recognised the suffering in the man's eyes, and it had been done at the hands of her family.
"Charles," she called out, gently. She wished that no one else would suffer as a result of her family.
After all, all of humanity was suffering because of years - two millennia, even - the Hahns spent trying to live a normal life.
But the Hahns weren't normal. They would never be normal.
Not while their founder Niamh Danu still had them tied to her will.
"Charles…" she whispered, her voice soft. The man had begun to sob amidst his panic. "It's okay. Whatever it is you found out, I probably don't even know what it is… I am largely kept in the dark, we all are… We all answer to one person in that house, and that person is Niamh. Whatever it is you found you, you can choose to tell me one day if you wish but I don't hold it against you."
Charles blinked and turned his head up to face her. She passed him a sad smile.
Everyone she met who had a relationship to her family was suffering, and she was so tired of it.
Everyone except for Simon.
Damn, why must I think of him all the time now… I need to get a grip, she told herself.
"You can trust me… I don't really like my family all that much." She murmured. Though a part of her wanted to know just what information he stumbled upon.
Charles composed himself and after he had wiped his eyes. He instructed Aisling to lie down again and he began to do her check-up. He took her weight and height and asked her general questions about her progressing pregnancy.
"You couldn't be older than twenty and you're already having a child…" he aired. She could hear something akin to disappointment. He looked over at her and pulled her shirt down, not needing to see anymore. "Is this something you wanted to do? Or was it forced upon you?" When he was met with silence, he had his answer.
"Why? People aged twenty have children all the time." She stated.
"Do you want more kids after this, at a time when you're ready?" he asked.
"Yes, I don't see why not. I always pictured myself being over to have kids, and to have a large family at that."
Charles inhaled shakily, his teeth gnashing together. He had to choose his words carefully.
"I don't know much about this Niamh but… from what I heard…" he began, slowly.
"Spit it out." She commanded.
He looked at her briefly and walked towards the window in the office. Beams of sunlight began to shine through the glass and lit up the room.
"I don't know how… but she has affected the fertility of the Hahns. It seems that you and your brother are the first exception in many, many years…" he began. He took a deep breath and turned around to face her once more, biting the bullet. "Women in the Hahn family tend to only produce one heir at a time. If at all. If you attempt to conceive in the future, I can't see it going your way…"
Sunlight washed over Aisling's face and he could make out the heartbreak in her eyes from a mile away. Her eyes were glassy and her lower lip trembled. She always wanted kids, just not have them be forced on her like this… Why did no one tell her? This child in her now may be the only child of her own she'd get to hold... She brought a hand down to her swollen abdomen and let it rest there. It was as if the child in her suddenly perked awake and kicked her right in the hand. She had never stopped to give this child any kind of love.
But as quickly as she began to feel sad over her situation, she moved on. She had to, that was what she was expected to do. Move on, don't grieve, and don't stop until you've carried out your role to the family and Niamh.
Still though, how she yearned to be a farmer's wife on a private area of land and gave a family of her own with a man she actually loved…
She didn't love Uri, and he didn't love her. They only did this as this was tradition for someone of royal blood to have a child with Hahn blood.
She rubbed her stomach a bit more and exhaled heavily. I'm sorry I have never loved you, she said to herself, I can only imagine all too well how you must feel…
Diary entry #25. March, 823:
In March that year, Aisling received her final letter from Simon.
Dear Aisling,
I am so happy to hear from you again, I really hope you are doing okay health-wise. I must say, I miss performing with you. I hope that isn't appropriate to say, but I guess writing to you doesn't cut it for me anymore.
I understand your family is strict, but I think some time away from them might be good for you, no? I don't mind if guards must accompany us around the place but… I do wish to see you again.
In your last letter to me, you asked if I was married. Ha-ha, I know, it's funny how I am twenty-four and still haven't found someone. Well, maybe I have found someone who is destined to a life beyond love… I have found my heart beating for this one person constantly and even though I don't see them too often, I hope they know that I think of them often… I know my other friends have families now or are married, but I am still left here alone. I am grateful that the person my heart beats for is someone I consider a friend, at least…
Say, when we were last together, you showed me a book that you took from your bedroom, right? And it showed us a picture and description of this thing called the 'sea'... I think going there would be cool someday. Before I die, I'd love to see it. Though, that means defeating the Titans. My grandpa was a member of the Survey Corps and he always spoke of his time beyond the Walls… Seems cool. Great big expanses of land, forestry that stretches for miles, and air that is so clean that you feel brand new when you breathe it in. Really has me thinking… I'm old but wow, I dream of the sea every evening now…
I hope you're doing okay. I wish I could do more to help you. You are dear to me and I wish you could come out… I would love to see you, and it got me thinking… Let's meet up on the eve of the first Friday night of April. I will wait for you outside the chapel in Mitras where the wallists pray. If I see you there at 7PM, then perhaps we can spend some time together… Though, if I don't see you there, I can assume you weren't allowed outside. I have something to tell you if you do show up.
I hope to hear from you soon, Aisling.
Take care,
Simon
Aisling folded the letter up as she sat in the hall, waiting for Uri to come speak to her. She was currently in the Reiss' house when she saw Rod come out. He was a stout man and just a wee bit smaller than her with brown hair. She was sure her betrothed was smaller than him yet again.
"Rod, are you quite alright?" she asked, noting his dejected look on his face. He saw her waiting on the velvet covered bench and he wiped the forlorn look from his face. "You look upset…"
"Ah, Lady Aisling," he breathed and a smile glossed over his lips. "Uri will be out in a second… We were just arguing with our father."
"Oh, why? Is everything okay?" she asked, quirking a brow.
"Ah, his term is halfway over, and we still know nothing. He refuses to tell us why he won't get rid of the Titans with the information our family possesses! We could be key to resolving this war against those man-eating beasts!" he complained, palm colliding with his forehead.
The double doors to the brothers' father's office opened and out came an equally exhausted-looking Uri. "No use, he says he refuses to speak further on the subject. I'd love to know what memories he is seeing…"
"You will soon, Uri, be patient."
"Wait, what?" Aisling inquired, now standing up.
Uri walked over to her and shooed his brother away. The smaller man smoothed her hair back and then looked down at her stomach. "How's the baby? You doing okay?"
"Uri, we can't marry." She blurted out.
Uri's lips parted but he smiled in understanding. "I figured this would happen. Then again, I take no hard feelings," he replied. "Because of you and your father, the Hahns and the Reiss families are back together, and your family is fulfilling its role to the royal family. I suppose I owe you that much…"
Aisling stared at him precariously. "What do you mean you owe me?"
"I mean, I can… pull some strings and make it look like we are together, on paper. That's what I mean. I don't know the specifics behind it, but you probably know by now that a Hahn and Reiss child has two powerful bloodlines and may be the key to ending this mayhem…" Uri paused as he collected his thoughts. "Aisling, you're a young woman. I don't want to see you so miserable. Just have the baby and we will go our separate ways." Uri said.
The shorter man walked away from her and she wasn't sure what feeling came over her, but it was something akin to relief.
"Uri, what is it you'll see soon?" she asked, thinking back to what Rod said just moments ago.
Uri turned around to face her. "I'm next in line."
April, 823:
"I love you, Aisling."
That's what Simon had uttered hours ago to her as they sat in a gazebo. The gazebo was nestled away in a park in Mitras, not too far from the chapel where they met that evening. Aisling's guards were ordered to stand a few feet away so the two could have privacy by Aisling herself.
There was no denying she had become attached to the one person she called her friend, and that being with him made her feel safe and secure. He made her feel appreciated and wanted. Plus, they had so much in common, it made sense that there was some attraction.
"I know your family expects a lot from you, but… after you deliver, I want to be with you. In my letter, I spoke of someone for whom my heart beats for. It was you, Aisling."
Now, as they sat on the bench under and stared at the stars that dotted that navy canvas above them, she let his vows play back in her head.
"I know you'll always be tied to your family, but I think we can make it work in spite of this. I'll always protect you from harm's way."
"You told me you mightn't be able to have children again after this… that's okay. I don't need you to give me kids for me to be happy."
Aisling looked up at him and smiled. He told her he was happy to wait for her answer. She looked on ahead and tried to spy where the guards were. They seemed to be talking amongst themselves, no more than twenty feet away. If there was an emergency, they'd be quick to pounce back to the heiress.
"Simon… ever heard of the Turning Rope?" she asked him, innocently. She rubbed her stomach in circles, trying to ease the cramps she was experiencing. He looked down at her and smiled, shaking his head. "I was told this story as a child of a man and a woman who fell hopelessly in love, and the man decided to ask for her mother's blessing."
"And what happened?"
Aisling sighed as she pressed on with the tragedy. "The mother gave him this magical rope that would grow and grow, and the rope growing was meant to symbolise the time the couple was destined to be together for. It was also a symbol of the hardships the couple might face, as the rope would get longer and heavier, as would the couple's challenges and responsibilities. His task: walk with the rope until it reached its end without dropping, and if he could do that, then the mother would deem the man strong enough to handle the arduous task that is marriage…"
She paused as she allowed Simon to digest the information of this legend.
"Unfortunately, the rope became too heavy. The man let go, and he was doomed to spend an eternity without his soulmate." She murmured, softly.
Simon reclined back further onto the metal bench. Why was she telling him this story? Was it to test his resolve to her, to test if he could handle being with her?
Because whether Simon realized it or not, if Simon were to date her, he'd be dating the family.
Call him naive, but he just wanted her, regardless of the hardships she may bring. She was a little shining light that shone bright with him. When she was with him, she was everything that was good; she was passionate, funny, headstrong, and kind. He saw the way she acted around her family; she was reserved, shy, and dare he say, depressed. And he wanted her to be the Aisling she was around him all the time.
"That's a lovely story, even if it has a tragic ending…" Simon said, after a few moments of silence. "I want to-" He stopped himself when he noticed that Aisling had leaned forward and started rubbing her protruding stomach. "Aisling?"
She sucked in a breath through gnashed breath before letting out a pained groan. She looked on ahead at the guards and she tossed her head back in pain. "I think the baby is coming…" she whispered to him, not wanting to alert the guards immediately. Simon immediately stood up in a frazzled, panicked state but she immediately pulled him down. "Shh, please. It's fine. It just hurts a bit."
"We need to get you to an infirmary!" he whisper-hissed. "Come on, it's not too-"
"No. I give birth at home," she insisted. "That was the order I was given."
Simon gaped at her. "Aisling, your estate is an hour's hansom ride away."
"Yes, it is," she affirmed. "And I will give birth there."
"The infirmary is just a few minutes by foot, we-"
Aisling stood up and began to walk to the guards, trying to stifle her pain. "I know. And even so, I'm going to have this baby at home. Simon, come with me."
"I'm sorry, ma'am." The family doctor said.
The baby wasn't crying.
Aisling gaped at him helplessly, tears welling in her eyes. She blinked at him and reached out for the baby that was in the doctor's hands, desperate to hold her.
Aisling gave birth to a girl, but the baby wasn't going to survive outside of the womb. The doctor deemed her too weak and her lungs were barely drawing in air.
"Please… just let me hold her…" Aisling begged. Simon stood outside the room and so badly wanted to be there for her once he heard her choked sobs. Aisling felt like her own limb was missing. Sure, she may not have loved the baby throughout the past nine months or so, but to have it suddenly taken from her hurt like nothing else.
Simon threw his head back, waiting to be let in so that he could see her. Aisling ordered the guards to not throw him out, but she also didn't want him present either.
"Who are you?" a voice came. Simon perked up and caught sight of the younger Hahn sibling approaching. "Ah, the accompanist… What would my sister's accompanist be doing here…?" he asked, eyeing the tall brunette suspiciously.
Simon had only seen Sven a couple of times over the months Aisling and he had become close, and each time, she could see the light leave her eyes when she met her brother. She claimed to love him, but she was not able to pull the wool over his eyes.
This was one of the people robbing her happiness; this was a person Simon would endeavour to protect her from.
"Just a friend, she asked me to be here." He said, quietly.
Sven stepped closer. Though Simon loomed over the man, he was strangely terrified of the shorter man below him. "Ah, you're a friend now?" he questioned. Sven saw the man gulp, but he just brushed past him. "Any news on the baby?" he asked, changing the subject.
"From what I've heard, the baby is very weak. It's not going to surv-" Simon began, but Sven immediately rushed past him and into the bedroom.
He spied his sister on the bed, holding the baby in her arms and he rushed to her side. He pulled back the cotton blanket the baby was in. The baby looked sound asleep, but when he rested his hand above the baby's nose to feel for its breathing, he could confirm it was very weak and intermittent. The child was mostly hairless and when he moved his thumb to open up the eyelid, it had the same cursed blue eyes.
He moved his palm to the baby's forehead; he had to check that if this child was going to survive, was it going to be the one behind his untimely death.
He saw nothing. More like Niamh wasn't telling him anything. He could see no future memories.
He looked back at his sister who looked shell-shocked and utterly heartbroken, crying softly. He then turned his attention to the bedroom door, visualising the man standing beyond the bedroom.
That Simon fellow is key to this somehow… Niamh, tell me, please, he begged to himself.
Niamh need not say anything though, as he quickly put two and two together. Why would she ask a male friend to be there for her in a time like this? Clearly, there was something going on between the two of them. An attraction of some sort.
No, he'd deal with this later.
Aisling reached out for the baby that was suddenly taken away from her again and carried out the bedroom by the doctor. Aisling panicked and immediately tore herself up from the bed to chase after the doctor. She felt a burning sensation from down below and she fell to her knees in pain.
"Ma'am!" her maid called out, running towards her. "You lost an awful lot of blood; you need bed rest!"
"I don't care…" she sobbed, profusely. "Give me back my baby…"
Even in the moment, she found herself confused at the sudden overwhelming need for the baby she never wanted in the first place. After all, this baby was just a catalyst in a grand scheme to get things moving for the Hahns' plan. This baby wasn't born to be loved or cared for; this baby was born to serve a purpose and to serve humanity.
But maybe… Aisling wanted to love the baby, and to end the cycle of needlessly having children for the sake of a greater goal? Maybe this child would be different, and maybe in that moment, Aisling wanted everything to play out differently?
Maybe Aisling wanted to give this child what she never had growing up: a steady source of love and support.
Aisling was guided back to bed and the doctor came back to do a once-over. Aisling's eyes glazed over with the same blank stare she always held.
"So, when can she try again for another kid?" Sven asked.
"Er, minimum recovery time for exercise and sexual intercourse is six weeks," the doctor began. "But, sir, if I may… I thought Hahn women couldn't have more than one child?"
"And my sister and I are exceptions, so clearly, it's possible." Sven said.
Aisling Hahn's only purpose in life was to be a broodmare for the Hahns and to put an end to the scourge of the Titans. Because their blood was special and only they could do it.
Aisling turned her head towards the door again, trying to spy Simon outside, hoping he'd come in. If he could just put his arm around her or hold her hand and tell her everything was going to be okay.
"Aisling," Sven said in a volume only the two of them could hear, "you better not be fornicating with people who have defiled blood like him."
His tone was dark and had an element of threat. In fact, it was the scariest she had seen her brother. His eyes possessed a murderous rage for the man outside the bedroom who could toss a wrench in Sven's plans. He'd kill him if it came to it, or any child that came out of this seemingly newly established relationship.
"Must I remind you of why we do this? Why we only have children with royal blood?" he asked, but he wasn't looking for her answer. He roughly cupped her chin between his index and thumb, beckoning her to look deep into his ferocious and angry blue eyes. "It's because Niamh turned her back on Ymir Fritz when she needed help and that sin is the cause of all our suffering. Now, she wants us to reunite her to Ymir and do what she should have done two thousand years ago. Our great ancestor Niamh was a sinner, and therefore, we are sinners too. We are no better than the devils that live in these Walls. Do I make myself clear?" He warned.
Aisling gulped, completely at the mercy of her younger brother, and at the mercy of Niamh, ultimately.
Diary entry #61. June, 823:
"You want me to take you away?" Simon asked her, as she laced her fingers with his. He looked into her raining eyes. "Are you sure? Where would we even go?"
"I don't care where. We could go to the beach someday, even! We can move underground. I don't care where, just anywhere that isn't my family… I don't want to become pregnant again." She murmured, beginning to sob. She gasped in deep strokes as she withdrew her hands from his.
Simon thought to himself for a few moments. Where could they possibly go where no one would find them? Then the idea hit them.
"We'll join the Scouting Legion." He announced. "Be ready by the end of next month, I'll arrange everything."
Diary entry #68. July, 823:
Their father was growing weaker, and Aisling was spending more and more time away from the Hahn estate. So, while Aisling was next in line after their father, it was Sven who was much happier to be pulling the strings behind the scenes. He was controlling everyone and everything like marionettes. When Aisling was called into his office to speak to her younger brother, she was on high alert.
"I give Father another fifteen years." He stated. Though it wasn't him who came up with this conclusion, he just knew that in 838, he was going to die; Niamh told him that much.
"That's so much time… we might find a doctor…" Aisling murmured. There was an understatement of pleading and hope in her voice.
"Not even the best doctor in the Walls could do anything to stop the progression of Danu's Blight…" he replied, rubbing his chin in thought.
"Not even you, brother?" she asked.
Sven was something of a prodigy when it came to the understanding of chemistry and medicine. To Aisling's left, she saw a large desk and there were plenty of concoctions on the table and the sound of something slowly vaporizing. There were petri dishes scattered about and test tubes with corks over the. There was no way all of this was recent work…
"Why have you called me in here?" she asked.
"Your six weeks are up. Have you met up with Uri?" he asked. Sven stood up and walked over to the grandiose window of his office. He stared out as his sister told him the answer. "Good, then. I know this isn't ideal for you, but… I do want you to be happy." He said.
He looked back at her and Aisling could tell the endearment in his eyes wasn't out of love. There had been a dangerous shift in her brother as of late, though she couldn't pinpoint as to why.
"You're looking awfully down. The next in line to the estate should always look her best," he added. "Tell me, sister, what can I do?"
Too deep in the depths of her own despair, she spoke without properly constructing her sentence together.
"I-I want to see Simon…"
"Simon Adler? But, of course." He replied back, graciously. He called out for his guards that were waiting outside the door. "Please, locate Simon Adler and bring him to my sister."
Aisling's eyes lit up at the sound of his name and she looked up at her brother. His look of endearment quickly vanished and his teeth gnashed together.
"Have my sister watch as he is castrated and beheaded."
Aisling let out a choked exhale and her smile vanished. One could see the colour drain from Aisling's face as she fell to the floor. "W-What…? Sven?" she gasped.
Sven stepped before her, his fine dress shoes making a clack against the wooden floors of his office. In her grovelling state, he looked like a madman - a monster, even - who was slowly unravelling and not caring for those around him. After all, he didn't have to. Here was a man who struggled, and clawed, and connived his way to power as the second born Hahn… and he had the heiress at her knees for him, begging for Simon's mercy.
"You want to get yourself involved with a devil? You want to have his kids and destroy any chance we have at humanity's victory and survival against the Titans?!" he roared. He looked down at his sister whose eyes were brimming with tears. He scoffed when they trickled down her cheeks and she wept even more. "What a sad, sad woman you are… Thinking only for herself."
"P-Please, don't kill him!" she begged. "I'll do anything!"
"Anything?" he parroted.
Aisling scoffed, her gaze hardening as she looked up at him. She pushed herself up and shouted, "What does it matter? It's not like you have ever given a shit about humanity's victory! You never have! You only want to emerge on top as some omnipotent being and be something akin to a god!" she retorted.
"Don't you yell at me thinking you know what it is I'm going through!" he bellowed. "Don't yell at me thinking you understand!"
"Make me understand, tell me what Niamh is saying to you!" she pleaded. "You're so secretive, you don't tell father or me anything! Sven… we can help you… Please!"
Sven was going to say something, but he zipped his mouth shut. "You look pathetic, Aisling," he spat. She looked at him in contempt, but angry tears still dripped down her face. "However… I am willing to spare him…" he began. Aisling blinked owly. "Will you forfeit your inheritance and your title…?"
"What?" Aisling asked.
Sven turned his gaze to the guard standing in the room. "Look at my sister, does she look depressed to you?" he asked. The guard didn't really have a choice in the matter, but he nodded. "Yes, and do you think someone in such a depressive disposition is suitable to assume head of such a noble family? To represent our family and father while he's so ill?" he asked. The guard shook his head. "Yes, I thought as much." He affirmed.
Sven moved closer to her as he backed her against the door of his office.
"I'll naturally leave you with some fortune to live off of… But I can't have you stepping in the way any longer…"
If she agreed to this, would she finally be free? It would be the closest chance to freedom she'd ever get.
"I'll do it."
Diary entry #83. September, 823:
It would normally be unheard of to slip into the Scouting Legion without any prior training from the Cadet Corps. It would be suicide for any normal person. While the top ten usually went to the Military Police, you would still want to be very good and adept at the 3DMG and hand-to-hand combat and any and all things physical to join the Corps.
However, that changed when Aisling spoke privately to the sleazy, good-for-nothing commander at the time and a big pouch of coins was slipped across the table in exchange for Simon and Aisling to join the ranks. They would train privately with leading soldiers, and they'd train hard at that and in the meantime, they would work as apprentices to the medics.
The first few months were agony, neither person having the muscles needed to support themselves on ODM gear. But, somehow, as the days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months, Aisling picked it up. One day, it all just made sense, and her reflexes were on par with those of the veterans.
Aisling knew that, somehow, this was Niamh's doing.
Simon would struggle to catch up and would stay working as a medic for many months until he could fight at a suitable level. Aisling would then continue to train with other members.
That was their routine, their constant.
However, every night, Aisling would find solace in Simon's arms as she was overwhelmed with guilt and some heavy-rooted feelings she had no idea how to identify. Guilt for not being able to keep up with her family's mission, guilt for running away without seeing her father. She felt a pang of sadness wash over her every night ever since she held her dying child in her arms.
But every time, Simon was there for her. He hugged her, held her hand or he kissed away her anxieties and tough emotions. He was a wonderful man and for the first time in years, she felt true freedom. Simon was holding the turning rope, and he was doing a good job at it.
Every day was the same: train, practice, eat food, go to bed. No disturbances from her family, nothing out of the ordinary… Everything was the same until April, nearly two years later.
Diary entry #102. April, 825:
"Simon…" she whispered.
Simon rolled around in his bed as she stood over him. Boys and girls were separated after all. As much as he wanted to stay in the confines of his blankets, he knew that her incessant tapping wasn't going to let up. He groaned letting her know he was awake, and she knelt down beside him. He opened his eyes and brought a hand to her face, affectionately cupping her cheeks.
"You have some nerve waking me up on our one day off…" he mumbled, groggily. He didn't say anything when she climbed on top of him and rested her head against his now muscular chest. She trailed her now calloused fingers along his biceps and they twitched beneath her touch as his body slowly woke up more. "You okay, darling?"
"I went to the infirmary, since I have been feeling unwell lately…" she began.
"Yeah, throwing up every morning and feeling terribly run down," he added, rubbing circles into the small of her back.
"...Simon, I haven't bled in over a month." She blurted out.
Simon's lips parted and he sat up. Aisling took a pillow from underneath him and sat up beside him. She rested her head in the crook of his neck and he slung an arm around her.
"I-I… I thought you couldn't get pregnant anymore…" he mumbled, clearly puzzled by this turn of events.
"So did I…"
Simon raked his fingers back through his mop of brown hair. "Gah, I'm so sorry, Aisling… I should have been more careful."
Aisling pursed her lips but then she turned to him and smiled. A child with her lover, this was all she ever wanted. She knew deep down he'd make a wonderful father. Of course, she couldn't imagine her superiors would be impressed with this, but they'd cross that bridge when the time came.
"Simon, it's okay," she assured him. She hoisted her leg over his lap and straddled him, leaning in to press her lips against his. "I'm… happy. We get to be parents…" she whispered softly.
It took Simon a few minutes to reciprocate that smile as he mentally planned everything and made sense of this new situation. But he leaned in and captured her lips in a loving kiss.
"Have you picked any names yet…?"
Diary entry #138. December, 825:
"Bláithín for a girl? That's an… unusual name…" he mused aloud.
The two were muddling over names for months and months, never deciding on anything. But now as contractions surged through her and an all-too familiar pressure built down below, they had to pick something.
In the later months of the pregnancy, Aisling retreated back to Mitras to her small house and Simon was grateful to find that a doctor that she knew lived next door to her. Simon visited her whenever he could but then was given a month's leave after the due date and a few days before so that he could support her in her final days.
"Yes, I see the head," Charles stated.
As delighted as he was, Simon's heart was breaking watching her scream out in agony. All he could do was kiss her dewy temple or rub her lower back in circles, while encouraging her.
"Aisling, with the next contraction, take a deep breath in and push with it. Okay?" Charles instructed.
Simon's hand was squeezed as the contraction overwhelmed her and cried out. He brought the golden band on her finger to his lips and placed a kiss there. Her lover urged her on and told her she was almost there. With one more cry, she pushed as hard as she could, and the baby was pulled from her.
And this time, cries pierced the air.
Aisling's lower lip wobbled as she reached out for the baby who was being cleaned off and bundled up in a blanket. The baby's lungs were definitely okay. Aisling's eyes welled with happy tears as the baby was placed into her arms.
A baby girl.
Her baby girl.
This child defied the odds of her bloodline, being the second child born after such a traumatic experience the last time. This child was a miracle; she was special.
Simon looked down at the baby as she nestled against her mother's chest, blinking away a few tears himself. The baby looked exactly like her mother but had her father's jaw and eye shape for sure.
"You're my little flower…" Aisling whispered to her. "You're my little Bláithín, and I will do everything in my power to protect you."
Diary entry ? February, 826:
Aisling and Simon were summoned to the Hahn estate as winter thawed. Bláithín was wrapped in a swaddle and tucked to her mother's chest having just been fed.
They walked up the grand stairs to her family's estate and were greeted by June, her former maid. It was as if they were watching them walk through the grand gardens. Simon stood close to Aisling with his hand on her lower back, ready to shield her if it came to it.
June escorted them to her father's room where he was lying propped up in bed.
"Father…" she said with a smile. The man looked up at her and smiled at the baby in her arms. His own servants adjusted his cushions so that he could sit comfortably. Her father's face had a bit more colour now, maybe he was doing okay recently. "How are you doing?"
Owen smiled fondly at his daughter and peered into the swaddle to take a good look at his granddaughter. "My, she looks just like you… I see no Uri, though…"
Had her father not been briefed on the news? Did he not know she had been stripped of her title? She nudged towards Simon, beckoning him to introduce himself. Simon cleared his throat.
"Hello, sir. My name is Simon Adler. I, uh… your daughter and I eloped not too long ago, and this… is your granddaughter. Her name's Bláithín." He said, meekly.
Owen eyed him up and down before letting out a cough. He reached out for the baby in Aisling's arms and Bláithín was placed down on a pillow to prevent her from slipping.
"You know… when I heard from Sven that you had given birth, I wasn't expecting anything since the last time you were pregnant, you, uh- well, I won't repeat myself. But… this child is beautiful," he said, softly. He turned his attention to Simon. "Just be nice to her." Her father explained, knowing that Hahns were predisposed to suffering as per the lineage.
"Of course, sir."
"Have you spoken to Sven recently, Aisling?" her father asked.
"No, dad, not since I was stripped of my title." She replied.
Owen's nostrils flared. He was seething. He clicked his fingers at the maid in the room and ushered them all out while the maid fetched his son.
.
.
(sometime later)
.
.
"You're… inheritance and title has been reinstated?" Simon parroted.
"Yes. I know, I didn't want this either, as it means I am tied back to future tasks my family needs me to carry out… It means Bláithín and myself will have to report back here as often as I can. Sven's orders."
Simon sighed heavily at this. The more he heard about Sven, the more he disliked him. He always felt alarms going off within him when she mentioned her brother. Why would she willingly go back to the family she struggled so hard to get away from?
"I said yes because Bláithín's inheritance was guaranteed and that she'd be safe in his watch when we return to work."
Ah, that's why. Aisling was thinking years in advance already.
"So, if we return every few weekends… that way, we'll get to see her." She said as she nuzzled her daughter in the swaddle. Bláithín was already starting to smile at her parents which warmed them both. "Yeah, you're adorable, aren't you?" Aisling crooned.
Simon looked in on his daughter and Bláithín was staring back at him owly, but she smiled quickly once she heard her father speak.
"My little flower, we love you so, so much…" Aisling whispered down to the baby.
Diary entry ? 829:
And so, life had long since returned to normalcy.
Normalcy for Bláithín, Aisling and their adopted daughter Elise, for they were summoned to the Hahn estate all the time so that Sven could watch over them. That was the condition for having inheritance guaranteed for them both. And surprisingly enough, Sven kept to his word, which shocked everyone.
The only issue was that Simon was never summoned. Simon was kept in the Trost barracks or in their shared house.
That was another one of Sven's conditions. He firmly believed that Simon's involvement with his sister was what was going to ruin everything and as such, he felt the need to punish their father.
He had to monitor Bláithín because somehow and at some point, in the future, this child would be his downfall in his plan.
And what's worst of all was that it was working; the children were much more comfortable around their mother who was around them so much more than their father.
He couldn't deny that the young blonde was fascinating as a child, for she was nothing like her mother. The child was hyperactive, giddy and rolled around on the floor for fun; everything a noble child wasn't, in other words. But he saw the way his sister cared for the girl; she read to her, laughed with her, danced with her and Elise was always incorporated in somehow.
Aisling was trying to entertain them and make sure that whatever memories they did have together were happy, which was understandable. Elise always stayed hitched on their mother's hip and Sven would watch from a distance at how Aisling would be the mother they never had; their mother who died from complications associated with childbirth and were left with their father who was obsessed with keeping good relations with the Reiss family.
"Mommy, can I hold her?" Bláithín asked her mother, arms reaching up to hold Elise. Aisling smiled and nodded, handing the infant down to her. Bláithín was ordered to sit down so that she wouldn't drop her or do anything too dangerous. Elise was just a few months shy of two years now but heavens, Bláithín was so clumsy. "It's me! I love you!" she beamed as she tapped her nose.
"No." Elise snapped back and started to flick her hands at them.
Bláithín huffed a sigh. "Mommy, I'm hungry."
Aisling cocked a brow. "What do you want to eat?"
"A banana."
"Bláithín, you've already eaten two today." Her mom replied, holding up her index and middle finger.
"...Three?" Bláithín tested.
"No, you should eat something else." Her mom said as she took Elise from her.
"Why?"
"Because it's good to eat so many different foods." Aisling replied back.
"Why?"
"Listen to your damn mother," Sven barked aggressively from the other side of the room, getting irritated by the three-year-old. It was clear the young girl didn't like the tone of her uncle and her eyes immediately pricked with tears. Sven stood up and began to trudge towards his niece. "Quit your damn crying, you little brat."
"Sven!" Aisling shouted, picking up Bláithín and holding her at her other hip. She gave him a 'don't you talk to my children that way' kind of look. "We do not punish children for crying and we do not speak that way. Crying is how we express ourselves." She said
"Behaving like a devil, much like her father." He grumbled.
Aisling was quick to retort. "No, my children are special. They are allowed to express their emotions and needs to others."
Sven waved his hands up in the air in defeat, knowing his sister wasn't going to back down.
Diary entry ? 833:
It just so happened though that Simon was more or less barred from seeing his kids and could only see them every other time he returned from an expedition. Aisling pleaded and begged her brother, but it was completely futile. Any attempt to reunite the two kids with their father met with an explosive argument.
It was a few years after Aisling and Simon were promoted to squad leaders did she find out Sven's true plan, and why he was so desperate to keep his eyes on her.
Why he was so desperate to change what had been written in the stars by having Aisling have more kids against her will years ago. Why he was so intent on punishing his 'defiled' brother in law.
But tonight, Simon and Aisling were having dinner as a family of four for the first time in months. He was finally reunited with his girls after almost half a year. Aisling had apologized profusely and while she could hear him accept her apology, she noticed there was a lack of, well, something in his eyes.
Simon had stopped expecting to see his kids; he was used to being separated from them.
"Will you eat your dinner, please?" Simon nudged at Bláithín.
The girl looked up at her father, a man who she was not totally familiar with, but she nodded. She had just been collected from her uncle's house and Simon hated seeing the look in her eyes every time she left the Hahn estate. The young girl always looked so miserable and tired, and at such an innocent, young age too.
He had to save her and Elise somehow… since his wife wasn't willing to do it.
But now, he'd just watch his two daughters eat their food.
"So, Bláithín has been doing well in her music lessons? After all this time, you never explained what has made everyone in your family so musical." Simon spoke.
Aisling looked up at him with an empty smile. "Generations ago, centuries even, our family was linked to the royal family and was a source of entertainment. Some of us were poets and writers, but a lot of us were musicians. And over time, we became closer and closer to them."
"I wonder if she'll play music more in the future like you did."
"I am annoyed at this situation too… hence why I teach them so much so that they can impress a suitor and break away from my family. The cycle will stop with them… I'm sorry, Simon."
Simon took a sip from his glass, the golden liquid burning his throat. He had been drinking a lot lately…
He looked at his wife, doing his best to hide any form of bitterness. He ultimately felt like Aisling wasn't trying hard enough to protect their kids from the misfortune that befell her family.
Aisling could see he was slowly losing his grip of the turning rope.
And it was only going to get worse.
835:
Bláithín and Elise were delighted to see their father collect them from school for once. She could probably count on her fingers the amount of times this happened.
Simon noticed Bláithín's hesitation as the three of them walked. As happy as she may have been, she wasn't used to seeing him. He took the satchel from her shoulders and the notebook Elise was carrying. When he noticed she was biting her lower lip, he raised a brow out of concern.
"Bláithín? You okay?"
"Oh, I'm just thinking."
Simon shrugged. "Thinking is okay in moderation, I suppose."
She gave him a puzzled look and held his hand; his hand was always held out for hers to take anyway, no matter what.
"What does moder-moderation mean?" Elise asked.
Simon gently squeezed her younger sister's hand as he picked up the pace to go back home. "Thinking that much will lead to worrying and you don't need that right now. And moderation means a controlled amount."
Shortly after a bit of back and forth - something he always cherished - they arrived at their little house. Charles saluted them with a wave and Simon waved back and he told the girls to be polite and to do it too. Keys turning, he opened the door and told them to go into the garden while the weather was good and to do their homework there, and that he'd be out in a bit.
Aisling seemed to be away right now but there was no harm in that; he got to spend time with his girls.
He walked out and sat down at the table that had a nice umbrella over it, shielding them from the sun. He looked down at Bláithín who was colouring something in her book and Elise had a notebook on her head like a hat.
"What are you colouring, Bláithín?" he asked.
"Those sad trees." She said, pointing in the direction.
"Sad trees? Oh, I see…" he said, spotting the weeping willows at the end of the garden. "They're called weeping willows."
"Oh, well, whatever they are, that's what I'm doing." She mumbled.
"Is that for homework?" he asked, taking Elise's notebook off her head. He began to read gently to her, her head resting on his shoulder.
"...No." Who was he to stop his daughter enjoying herself, though? He wasn't about to ruin her fun. "Uncle doesn't like it when I draw."
Your uncle doesn't like you for whatever reason, he said to himself. Of course, he'd never say that aloud but innocent, little Bláithín thought he was just constantly mad at her over these small things. Simon knew it ran far deeper than that. And even so, Aisling constantly catered to every whim.
And it was something he wouldn't forgive her for.
"Can we play hide-and-seek?" Elise asked.
"You've been doing homework for two minutes and you already want to play?" Simon asked, incredulously.
"Yes!" she beamed.
"When your sister is finished, okay?" he asked.
He stood up when he caught sight of the flowerpots on the windowsills. He noted some of them needed watering, but he picked off a few of the in-bloom ones. He returned to the table and started to put the pansies in his daughters' hair. Bláithín brought a hand up and twirled the little bloom in her hand.
"Thank you, dad." She mumbled with a smile.
"You seem awfully down, Bláithín."
"I wish you were with us more, but Mommy says you can't see us as often as you'd like. And Uncle doesn't like us seeing you." She murmured.
Simon smiled as he brought Elise onto his lap and began to plait her hair, something he'd do to his younger sisters before when he was younger.
"I know, I know…" he replied quietly.
This was the choice he made to be with Aisling: not seeing his own kids or being excluded from the summonings to the Hahn estate.
"But even so, I love you both regardless."
In that moment, Simon didn't know if he regretted being with Aisling? Sure, he loved all three of them no doubt but he couldn't ignore the bitterness and resentment towards her and her family bubbling up inside him, nor could he deny that he went to bed lonely often or he always held his kids a little too long in an embrace because he was so not used to holding them…
All those things added up.
All he wanted to do was be there for his kids and it sounded all so simple in theory…
837:
"They're my kids too, and if you're not going to be a decent parent and do the right thing and protect them from your family, then I will!"
Simon pushed the door open as the memories from his most recent argument with Aisling played in his mind. He stumbled into the room, the alcohol he had ingested earlier making him a wee bit clumsy.
"Come on, Bláithín, Elise," their father whispered in the dead of night, shaking them by the covers of their bed, "you're coming with me."
He ushered the two girls out of their bedroom in their nightgowns and out the front door where a hansom was waiting. He pushed them inside and tapped the ceiling. The rider outside snapped the reins and off they went.
Bláithín rubbed her eyes groggily and let out a poorly suppressed yawn. Elise had collapsed onto her lap and the blonde ran her fingers through her long, brown tresses. Bláithín looked up at their dad and noticed how his hands shook with his fingers interlaced, his head leaning against his closed hands. He failed to stop the lone tear falling down his track.
"Dad?" she inquired, curiously. "Where are we going?"
Simon turned around and took her hand in his. "We're, uh… We're gonna live somewhere else from now on. Sleep now, we'll get there early morning."
Unfortunately, luck wouldn't be on Simon's side that day. For when they arrived at his family's house and exited the carriage, he saw his wife there. She ran up to the kids and took them to her side and walked back over to the man who had brought his slew of guards. There must have been around twenty of them surrounding the carriage.
Sven Hahn was standing there, the man who was taking away everything from him from his wife to his kids. Simon could only snarl at him.
He would have charged at the man if he had no dignity or self-respect left.
Aisling bent down and pressed her forehead against Bláithín's. "I'm so sorry, you're gonna have to forget this ever happened…"
And with a click, the twelve-year-old felt a streak of electricity run through her and all of a sudden… it never happened.
Just like many of the more unfortunate memories of their childhood, Aisling could make them disappear.
Late 837:
"I don't think Simon can handle being in this family… and I am afraid my brother is at his wit's end with him…" Aisling wept to Charles. "I don't know what Sven's gonna do to him, if he does do anything to him…"
Charles sat across from her in his small, cramped yet cosy kitchen. His children toddled in and out, but he was quick to tell them he'd play with them in a bit. The doctor felt sorry for his neighbour and friend. He reached out and took her hand in his, rubbing it in circles as a desperate attempt to comfort the weeping lady.
So much suffering was brought on by those two meeting and having a child together; because she had a child and for some reason, this child would be the one that would ruin Sven's plans but somehow save them all.
This was Niamh's prophecy, so to speak. Or more like Niamh intended to end the cycle of suffering with Bláithín.
"Why is Sven so obsessed with Bláithín?"
Aisling sighed as she tried to string an answer together. Her brother was becoming more deranged as time went on, much more violent and manipulative. Was there any way she could tell him?
Charles brushed his question aside when he realized she wasn't going to answer. Aisling had other things on her mind also.
Her father was close to dying and he could hardly leave the bed now or digest food. It wouldn't be long before she fulfils her final role to the family. Sven had written to her saying that his time was running out and that she would need to step in.
"How is Simon?" he asked.
"I've never seen him so angry and miserable… our marriage is practically irreparable. But even so… I love him," Aisling mumbled. "Because even if our relationship turned into a disaster because of my own family… through him, I got to experience freedom and love. And I just hope that Bláithín and Elise got to experience the same."
"You say that as though you know you're going to die…" Charles mumbled.
"Hmm?" she squeaked. "I, uh… we have another expedition coming up in early January of 838 but my mind is all distracted…"
"Please, you must return for your children," Charles begged. "Having one absent parental figure is one thing, but a child without a mother spells for disaster."
The doctor looked up at her and tried to search for her eyes. Her eyes had glossed over again, and she looked just as fragile as she did all those years ago. So vulnerable and downcast, her eyes once again having lost their glimmer. She was no longer crying now, and her face was dried by her sleeves. It looked as though she realized there was no point in crying.
There was nothing she could do…
January, 838:
"SIMON!" she screamed out when a Titan grabbed the wires of his 3DMG and sent him flying.
She soared through the air, looking for her husband. Her eyes tried to lock in on any body lying haphazardly on the ground, but with the rain, it was hard to see. She zipped down to the grand and landed effortless on her feet, her boots sloshing against the wet ground. In her emotional state, she didn't sense the greedy hand coming for her. She yelped out in pain as it squeezed her tightly and she coughed up a globule of blood, soiling her uniform more. The ten-metre class crushed her legs and spine, and with terrifyingly loud cracks, she screamed out in pain. With whatever strength she could, she waved her sword around to try to wiggle out. As she was brought closer to the Titan's jaws, the Titan itself fell limp. She was dropped to the ground and she heard another crack before pulling herself out of the grip.
A pair of footsteps landed before her, but this soldier buckled too under the weight of his own injuries. He fell to the ground and he coughed, his lungs aching.
"A-Aisling…" he choked as he fell onto his back.
She looked up and made her way over to him as fast as she could. Her lips were parted in shock as she pressed her head against his chest, sensing for his pulse. It was slow, and it was getting slower. She used her upper body strength to support her body to the best of her abilities. She reached out and grabbed his hand.
"Y-You're hurt…" he croaked.
Even in the whisper, she was sure she could get a whiff of alcohol, but now wasn't the time to badger him.
"Yeah, I am… You are too…" she wheezed. "B-But it's okay, someone will find us. And we'll get to see Bláithín and Elise again."
Simon frowned. "You mean you will," he retorted. "I won't…"
Aisling would have fought back, but how could she? How could she fight back when he was in the right?
She no longer had the strength to keep herself supported and her head collapsed onto his chest, everything aching and throbbing.
"But… if someone does find us, we'll be okay…"
"I don't want to be found." He said, and that sentence shattered her heart into pieces, and nothing hurt to hear her husband give up.
"N-No, we'll get back a-and…" she tried. "You promised you'd keep holding that rope… remember? You said that you'd stay with me, mm?"
Simon turned his head away, unable to look at her as tears poured down his cheeks.
"You're really going to make me live without you?" she sobbed.
Simon turned to face her. "You, Elise and Bláithín have been doing it for years..."
Aisling, with whatever strength she had left, let out a wail. She sobbed pathetically as she banged her fist on the ground, cursing the life she had been given, cursing the family she had been born into.
And in spite of his bitterness, he reached up and cupped her cheeks and he smiled at her. "I'm… sorry I never took the time to understand your situation properly…" he stopped and let out a cough, "in another life, maybe… maybe we could have worked better."
"I love you…"
"And… in another life, maybe I could have carried the rope better…" he choked out.
Rain crashed down on them harder and they could hardly hear each other as their dying wheezes escaped their chapped, parted lips.
"I love you, too, Aisling." He said before he went completely silent.
She smiled at him as she suddenly felt a sense of peace she had never quite felt before.
Somewhere beyond Wall Maria, she laid out there on the wet, cold ground without a heartbeat, feeling true freedom in death.
Present day:
"Hey, Bláithín," Levi began as she sat on top of his desk in his office reading the journal more. They had arrived back from Mitras a few days ago and since then, her face was buried in the book, glued to every word, looking for more of the diary entries, but they seemed to stop at 833. "Smacking your head against the book won't give you any more information."
She looked up at her partner and he set a cup of tea down next to her, keeping one in his hand.
He stared at her and cocked a brow. "Your eyes are doing that glowing shit again." He said, placing a thumb under her eye and pulling down her lower lid. "You seeing shit again?"
Bláithín blinked a few times, being released from the memories and back into reality. "I just saw my mom's memories."
Levi was now well aware of the fact that sometimes Bláithín would dip in and out of these states lucidity and would see things. Most of the time, when she spoke of what happened, it made no sense to her, let alone him.
"Anything interesting?" he inquired.
"Yeah…" she began and explained what she saw to her lover. "Buckle up, there's a lot to take in."
"Hmph." Came his reply as he sipped from his tea.
Nevertheless, he listened to her ramble. As she explained, she looked on at him fondly and smiled.
Would Levi ever let go of the turning rope?
published: 26/03/2021
edited: ?
hey guys, sorry for the delay - really struggling with writer's block. lemme know what you think though? or if you have any questions! it'd be so great if you could review, i'd really appreciate it. i know my story ain't great but... haha, i do appreciate any and all support i can get. also only two weeks until the final chapter of the manga, i'm gonna be so sad!
have a wonderful day/night wherever you are!
- fabuliszt