Trop, c'est trop = Enough is Enough
NSFW Themes ahead
When she'd gotten married to her husband, James Ardil, she thought that her troubles would be far behind her. That she could forget about Kenny, that smug, handsome bastard that she loved with every part of her.
But she was so wrong, so very wrong.
Rori should have known that waiting for him to bust through the doors and interrupt her wedding ceremony to fight for her hand was a sign that she was doing the wrong thing. But she'd always been a bit stupid in that way, a bit too naïve for the grim realities of the world.
Even when she was an itty bitty girl, she would stare at the ceiling of the Underground's cavern, wondering what the world above was like. Little Rori Zorandis had never seen the sun, though her hair shone a gold hue that would have made it jealous if she were to ever show her face.
"Daddy…" She'd begin to ask, looking to her father working on fixing the door to their ramshackle home. It was just the two of them, no mother to be found. "If I was born up there, why don't we live up there? Is Mommy up there too?"
Her father, strapping and responsible Roland, took care of her all by himself. He didn't have eyes for another woman, and had never remarried to give his daughter a step-mother. Later she would realise it had been far too painful for him.
Putting down his tools, he came over to sit by his daughter on the steps to the front door, looking up as well. "Mommy's further up than that, baby. She's in heaven. But we don't live up there because it's not safe."
That made the blonde girl frown, her bouncy curls kissing her cheeks. "Is it because of the Titans? Did Titans eat Mommy?"
"No, no. Up above us is Mitras, baby, that's the interior. No Titans are in the Walls, much less the interior. If they were, how would we get food?"
"Ah, good point Daddy. What happened to Mommy then?" She curled her knees up to her chest, eyeing some scabs on them from scraping her knees at the park. The park in the Rookery was pretty janky, but it was better than nothing.
It took her father some time to gather his words, but he brought her inside to talk. Roland seemed quite bitter about it, saying that her mother had died soon after Rori was born. He didn't give many details, telling her that he would explain more when she was older, but that she just needed to know that the Royal Government was the reason for her death, the reason they lived in the Underground, and why they could never go back up.
All of her life she just lived with that. The fact that she never got to know her mother, Mariona, because of the government. Her father was right, it was the safest down below, even in the lawless Underground.
Her life had been as good as it could have been, living in the Rookery until the cave-in that made her seek refuge elsewhere in the city with her father. Sometimes she'd missed the Rookery, even if it had been the worst section of the Underground City. It was mostly the memories she'd made with Kenny, the first love of her life that her heart had never moved on from.
Even when he disappeared, even when he came back to her when Kuchel was on the brink of dying and needed help taking care of Levi.
Even when he told her that he wouldn't be coming back down ever again, that he couldn't be a good husband for her. Ever.
So she'd met James in the tavern. He'd been nice enough at the time, somewhat handsome, with a job in the mines that made him a fair bit of money. James had tried to sweet-talk her every chance he got, had spent every night in the tavern at the counter, trying to pull her attention away from other clients, a bit possessive of the woman he was trying to court. She wished that she'd noticed it back then, instead of brushing it off as endearing. Same with how he'd gotten defensive whenever she'd noticed injuries, once he'd even had a bite mark on his hand.
"Was just some stray dog, princess, no big deal." He'd waved aside her concerns with a charming grin.
Rori wasn't stupid, though, not then, not now. It hadn't looked like a bite from a dog.
Their first night together had been less than ideal. Rori had foolishly thought he would be gentle with her as they consummated their marriage, which was supposed to have been the start of their loving life together.
But he'd been rough. She'd felt broken after, felt like he hadn't cared at all about what she wanted, what she liked, or how much it hurt. It had left her in tears, but had he given a shit? Of course not. He'd been a typical pig, just pulled out of her and fell onto the bed to conk out in his orgasmic-haze. Not so much as an 'I love you', or even a compliment about how he'd liked it.
She'd tried to hide the pain, but Rori was a strong-willed, independent woman. Her father had taught her to be, so she'd wanted to advocate for herself, speak her mind and tell James just what was wrong with the way he'd treated her in bed.
"Ya need to take care of me, too. It's supposed t'be a nice experience for the both of us, James, and you should know better!" Rori had tutted, poking her finger into his chest to get her point across. "I like it gentle, I like when ya let me feel good, when ya give a shit about if I get to come or not!"
James had gritted his teeth, glaring down at her with darkened eyes. "How would you know what ya like if ya' were a virgin?"
Fuck.
Ducking her head down, though not understanding why she'd suddenly felt so ashamed and dirty, Rori had had to explain in tears that she'd had a lover before, though of course she'd never named him, wanting to keep Kenny as much of a secret as she could now that she'd realised her husband's once-flattering territorial ways were showing themselves to be more possessive than anything.
That had been the first time he hit her.
It had made her head spin, and the force of the smack had sent her stumbling, her meager lunch from earlier suddenly wanting an encore. Another one had come, then a kick to her shin had sent her crumbling onto the dirty, wooden floor as she'd cried out in pain.
"You're a filthy whore then. Think you should have disclosed that before making me marry your sorry ass, huh Rori?!"
The rest of that day had been horrible, to say the least. She didn't care to remember it. But again, she'd always been quite the bumbling idiot. So when the next morning he'd returned with a small bundle of flowers—worth a pretty Rose mind you— and a sorrowful look on his face, begging for forgiveness…she'd given it. As pathetic and stupid and naive as it sounded. James had promised that he loved her, and that he would never hurt her again. "I wouldn't have hurt you if you hadn't lied to me." He'd murmured as he gently kissed the colourful bruise on her cheek.
Then he'd taken her inside, where he'd laid her out on the bed and taken her much more sweetly than he had the day before, and she'd almost forgotten what had happened.
Why had she been so stupid that she hadn't seen the signs?
Why had she continued to ignore it, no matter how bad it had gotten?
And so had gone their little routine. Whenever she'd messed up, whenever she'd failed, it had always landed her with some form of a beating. And every morning after one, he'd always shown up with some form of pretty gift or flowers, or some shitty necklace made by a neighbor who sold jewelry in the markets. Something to go hand in hand with his apologies and teary eyes.
And every time she'd forgiven him like a fool, like the pathetic, desperate-for-affection idiot she was.
A few years into their wobbly marriage, James had demanded that she quit her job at the tavern. "I can't stand those guys ogling you, and you need to be at home. What if we have some kids, huh? You're gonna keep working even if we've got four or five little ones running around?" He'd scoffed. The rugged man had been changing out of his uniform, one that had been splattered with blood before his late arrival back home. It hadn't been the first time it had happened– accidents with tools at the mines, he would explain. He'd tell her that men had run-ins with pickaxes and chisels that went south in the blink of an eye. Still, she hadn't enjoyed the sight of blood.
Toying with a loose string on the fraying and worn edge of the ribbon tied on her dress beneath her breasts, she'd respectfully kept her gaze averted from his, fixed on the floor where it belonged. "James, if I get pregnant I'll consider it…" She'd argued quietly—a bit meekly she remembered with a wince of embarrassment— "But I like my job. We need all of the money we can get down here, you know that. Don't be difficult, I'm just trying to help."
What she hadn't included was that her job was the only way she could escape the hell of being at home. At the tavern she could laugh and chat openly, and be herself no matter who walked in the door. If she had to stay at home, she'd be subject to more of his nitpicking, his put-downs. It had happened when the dinner she'd made was too salty, or when she'd folded his clothes the wrong way, or when she hadn't bought more wine from the market like he'd told her to.
But she'd deserved it.
Right?
Right.
It had been alright for a short while. Though, one day, some months after Kuchel had gone on her noble quest to retrieve Levi from the Survey Corps members, she'd arrived at work and had been pulled into the backroom by the boss.
"Rori… sweetheart, you know I love you workin' here, but I got an anonymous tip… someone said that you were pocketin' money that was for the tavern. When I checked the count, it was short." Her boss, Jim, was a wiry but pleasant old man, shorter than her and frail like a wishbone. He'd seemed rather sad at the prospect of her doing such a thing, and her blood had gone cold, hands growing clammy as she'd stammered out a reply.
"I-I didn't do that, honest! I'd never do that, I love this job too much! Please, I'll work overtime for free if ya let me stay!" She begged, tears rushing down her pretty cheeks as she'd clutched into the faded lapels of his thin jacket. "Please, please."
Rori could tell that the decision hadn't been easy for him. Jim had seemed to understand that her home life wasn't the best, and some days when she'd come to work with bruises, he would question her, even make her sit in the back with a cold rag. But she'd always been too much of a coward, too afraid for anyone to know the truth, to see how long she'd let a man whittle her down like a piece of brittle wood. What would they think if they knew? If they knew that she, the independent woman with the go-get-'em attitude had let a man break her spirit?
Much to her dismay, he'd gently pried her hands from his clothes and taken a step back, shaking his head in apology. "I'm sorry darling, but I have to let you go. I can't make exceptions."
Her head had hung low on her way back from the tavern, her apron crumbled up and clenched in a pale hand. With her father having died a few years before, and Kuchel and Levi nowhere to be found, all she'd had was her dipshit husband.
Breaking the news had been worse than losing her job to begin with. James had been livid, and she could have sworn that it would have been better to hang herself from the rafters than to endure his treatment. When he'd found out, he grabbed her thick curls viciously, tossing her onto the floor and thrusting a kick into her gut to follow. "You fucking harlot! Ya ran yer stupid mouth beggin' me to keep that fuckin' job where ya paraded yourself around across from the Pink Pearl, just as bad as one of those whores, and you get fired?! I oughta kill you!"
His heavy boots thudded near her head, and she'd quickly yelped in terror, trying desperately to cover her head. Rori's words had been incoherent, pleading and wailing for his forgiveness, for his tolerance, for his mercy.
It had only been after he'd stormed to the bar that she'd picked herself up, and winced at the sight of the tear stains set into the parched wooden boards of the floor.
Thus further had the mighty Rori fallen.
Being a stay at home wife hadn't been the worst. When James had been out in the mines, she got to clean, got to cook, got to knit. She'd made sure it was all done by the time he got home so that she could leave just beforehand, writing a note that she was going to the market.
But some days were harder than others, like that time she'd broken his favorite glass… she didn't even want to remember what he'd done to her after that.
Though, one day that had all changed, and she'd known that she couldn't stay.
He'd been needed for an extra shift at the mines, since a shaft collapsed again and trapped people inside. All of the manpower they could get a hold of to save the workers had been appreciated, and being higher up in the company now, he'd been required to go back in whether he'd wanted to or not.
In the rush to get ready, James had left his desk a mess in their bedroom. He'd been quite adamant that she respect his privacy, and until now she had done so, but what was the harm in putting the stationary supplies and papers away?
Sweet Rori had filed away some paperwork, shadows under her eyes and a broken spirit to match, and had set the few fine quills back in their cups. However, there had been a curious journal set upon the corner of the desk, and she'd never seen it in their entire marriage. Picking it up as she'd sat in his chair, she'd peeked over her shoulder, checking to make sure that he hadn't backtracked into the house to grab something before opening the book.
The cover felt crisp in some places, worn and soft in others, like it was the most ancient thing in the Underground. Just how old was it?
Cracking it open had tossed poor Rori down a rabbit hole, one that had her pouring over the contents of the pages with her eyes glued to the parchment until the ink ran out. Tears ran down her face, ones that she had swiftly wiped away before they could fall upon the stiff pages. After all, if he knew that she'd been looking in here, he'd do worse than strike her.
It felt like hours had passed as she read the pages, but it had been a single one at most- by the time she'd been finished, she'd known that she'd needed to get out. Rori hadn't known where in the Walls she was going to go, but she'd scrambled to grab a bag and toss in as many belongings as she could within it. The damn thing had nearly burst at the seams, but she hadn't cared. All the blonde could think about were the contents of the pages, the fact that he wasn't the man she'd thought he was. Not at all.
Rori had left behind nothing but a house in chaos, clearly having been rummaged through for anything of value, including the money she'd stashed away in secret in case of an emergency. Every corner she'd rounded had sent her heart jumping into her throat, worried that she would see him, that he would grab her and try to drag her back home before she could tell anyone what he'd done, what he'd confessed to in those yellowed pages.
I need to find Kuchel, I need to find Levi, they need to know what he did. Fuck, how am I gonna find them? This is a disaster.
Miraculously, Rori had been able to sneak past the guards at the base of the stairwell. The poor saps were distracted by some flirtatious woman in a skimpy dress passing by, and it gave her the perfect opening to make a run for it without looking back. Her husband didn't have any claim to the surface world, so even if he tried to come after her, it would take a while. At least she could claim she'd lost her card and tell them about her birth records in a Quinta hospital.
…
A few weeks following her escape to the Surface, she found herself holed up in an alleyway with the few belongings she'd brought. She hadn't found a place to stay yet, and honestly didn't want to shell out the cash until she had some sort of income to support herself. Food came first, so she'd wait until she had a job before trying to find a home.
Thankfully, it didn't take her long and she praised whatever deity existed that she'd been graced and blessed with beauty. Her looks helped her land a job in a tavern in Mitras. She'd spent a good chunk of change to buy a dress fitting enough for an interview there. She'd seen how the patrons dressed, and she'd dressed to impress.
Fortunately, it had paid off.
Rori began her duties with elegance and grace, and used some more money to buy some fabric to make her own dresses so that she didn't stick out like a sore thumb- it was best to blend in with the crowd.
Days passed and as her income steadied, she sought residence in a nearby inn that gave her the warmth and shelter she needed…though it didn't stop her from sleeping with one eye open. She didn't think there'd ever be the day where she'd feel safe again- not completely, at least. Even though she now had a bed to sleep in and a washroom to use, she was more terrified than she had been when she'd slept on the streets. The adrenaline from living like a street rat had worn off leaving her with the reminder of what she'd fled.
And each night his face tormented her, plaguing her with nightmares until she awoke in a cold sweat, sheets soaked and twisted from her restless slumber. When she was yanked from sleep she could still feel the phantom hands on her body. Choking her while he fucked into her. Smacking her face when she screwed up. Tossing her into the wall when she failed him.
But despite the haunted shadows beneath her eyes, it didn't change her beauty, nor did it affect the tips the patrons of the tavern left her. And she gathered enough spare money to splurge on some of the makeup that the fair ladies of Mitras used and found it helped disguise the exhaustion.
So that was how her life went, day in and day out, until one bleak and dreary morning, she met him.
And her life changed once again.
There was a tall blond, and he caught her attention from across the tavern as his soft hazel eyes meandered over her pale skin- even with all of the time she tried to spend in the sunlight, she could never quite work up a tan without burning. Her cheeks had some colour from a walk in the park, and it stirred this man she had never met to stride over to her bartop, resting his elbows atop the counter. It let her see the Military Police emblem clearly embroidered upon his jacket, stitched with fine care just like all of the other ones. A name was embossed into the leather above the breast pocket, barely visible in the dim light. Aster Barlowe.
"Hey there, pretty lady… I couldn't help but notice you from across the room. Blonde curls all dolled up, blue eyes pretty like sapphires… I don't see a ring on your finger. How is it that you've not been scooped off your feet?"
The thought of being with a man again terrified her, frankly, and brought back memories of what she'd escaped. But years of training kept a flirty expression on her face as she mimicked him and leaned over the counter.
"Maybe I just haven't met the right fella." She purred, knowing men were more likely to leave a pretty and fat tip if she gave them just the right attention. She never led them on, no, it wasn't about that. It was about teasing them with the image of what could be, even if it could never be.
Harmless flirtation. Nothing more, nothing less. Besides, he was what, mid to late thirties? There was a fat chance he'd want a woman like her, nearly forty-seven. Though, she didn't exactly look her age, she had to admit that much.
That had his grin widening as he took in her doll-like features. She sure was a pretty one- but there was something in her eyes, something almost haunted, but it was so hidden that most people would miss it. His smirk faded as quick as it had appeared as he pondered over her, intrigued by the mystery of her.
"Who hurt ya, darlin'?" Aster murmured almost absently, as if he hadn't meant to ask the question and it had just slipped out of him much like the wind slips through the leaves of its own accord.
Rori snorted out a laugh at the absurdity of his question. "How much time ya got?" The blonde mumbled, grabbing a bar towel and quickly wiping down the already spotless counter, hoping to move away from him. Something about him sent alarm bells ringing in her head, and she didn't know what to make of them.
He was quick to react, always had been, and laid a hand over hers, stilling her movements. "As much as ya need." He murmured, watching her carefully, curiously. Something about her tugged at him, called to him, and he didn't know what or why. But he wanted to.
She froze at the touch, noting how large his hand was over hers. Fuck, they were even bigger than his. Would likely be able to break her bones with ease. It was almost possible for her to feel the wiry strength flowing through his palm, and she could practically feel it clutching around her slender neck. It sent an icy wave crashing over her, not noticing the way her face had lost any trace of color.
Desperately shaking aside the fear, she painted on a lavish and flirty grin, batting her lashes coyly at him as she toyed with the button on his lapel. "I'm sure ya do, sugar. But I'm sure ya have some pretty lady waitin' for ya back home. How 'bout I make your drink on the house and you mosey on back to her?" She gave his chest a gentle pat and stepped away, turning to walk into the back before casting a final glance over her shoulder. "Besides, ya wouldn't be able to handle me, handsome."
Hurrying away, she rushed into the bathroom where her already empty stomach decided to empty itself further.
…
As the days moved forward, she found that her tavern regularly drew in Aster's presence. She kept her distance from the handsome blond, not sure she trusted the attraction bubbling in her gut.
Rori hadn't felt it in so long, not since Kenny.
She brought him his drink and tried to ignore the curious looks he sent her way. She saw the interest lighting his eyes, could see the desire. Her experience hadn't left her unable to tell when a man was interested, but it was that interest that frightened her. She'd lost confidence in her ability to read where a man's intentions truly lay.
One night, she found herself alone in closing up the tavern. It had been a long and busy night, waiting on and bussing tables, but she enjoyed it. It was good and honest work, and the money was nothing to sneeze at, 'specially in a town as expensive as Mitras with all of the most pompous and rich assholes in all of the Walls.
Lost in her cleaning duties and the tune she was humming, she didn't catch the faint tinkling sound of the bell as the door slowly opened. Nor did she hear the muted footsteps as they drew closer to her.
It wasn't until she felt a pair of hands on her rear that she shrieked out in terror, whirling around and wielding the mop like a weapon. She recognized the man behind her after a brief and petrified moment. He'd given her some trouble earlier that night but she thought she'd handled it.
"Came back for ya, doll face~" He slurred, the stench of stale beer oozing from his breath and pores.
She had to fight back the urge to vomit but she composed herself and took a step back, ready to bolt to the kitchen where the knives were as soon as there was an opening. "I'm sorry, sir, but we're closed," she said primly. "I'm going to have to ask ya to leave."
But no chance as he quickly pushed her against the wall, crowding her and pressing his large body against hers. "C'mon now, pretty thing. How much for a night?"
She struggled against his hold on her wrists but it was futile when the grip was tight enough she was certain there'd be bruises. "P-Please, I don't want this," she whimpered.
Who was that? That meek woman cowering in terror? She knew all she had to do was draw a swift knee up to his crotch to render him useless. So why couldn't she get her limbs to move? Why did it feel as if her feet were rooted in place, unable to do anything while he murmured walls knew what and sloppily kissed along her neck and jaw.
"Sure ya do. Tavern girls like you'r always easy."
Rori had to try not to hurl at the overwhelming stench flowing from him. This wasn't her, why wasn't she fighting back? Why wasn't she screaming for someone to help her? Had she been rendered into a helpless damsel in distress?
She didn't even notice the tears slipping down her cheeks. She just surrendered herself to her fate, and hoped that the memory could be locked away once it was over.
But she would never find out, because suddenly the pressure was lifted from her body followed by a loud crash resounding through the air. Crumbling in a heap, she curled into herself as she held back sobs and stayed lost in the floating lightness, terrified of being brought back onto earth.
A gentle hand on her hair called to her but she refused to leave this safe place she'd retreated to in her mind. But she also didn't resist when she felt gentle arms lifting her, carrying her out, curling into the warmth, not noticing how icy her skin had gone.
She stayed in that quiet darkness, not knowing what was happening in the real world. Not caring. Her body was useless at this point. Her mind was tarnished and broken.
A warm weight registered around her shoulders, softness beneath her, but she still stared blankly ahead.
A gentle butterfly of a touch brushed across her cheek, up to her ear where it gently whispered to her, calling her back.
"No." She managed to croak out. "No, please don't do this."
Yanked back to reality, she scrambled away to the opposite end of the couch, curling the blanket tighter around her. Blinking rapidly, fighting back tears, she looked around at the foreign environment. She noted a small fireplace with flames quietly crackling in the background. A simple coffee table sat in front of the long couch, a lantern sitting upon the end table, giving light to the otherwise shadowy room. She could make out the shapes of bookshelves filled with books of all shapes and sizes. There was a comforting and woodsy scent in the air, one that promised her safety and respite. But she was afraid to believe it, had fallen for promises before.
Her gaze finally landed on the man at the opposite end of the couch. Blond-haired and decked out in his military garb and handsome as ever. A part of her wanted to go to him, to beg him to hold her close, but the part of her that was terrified of men shoved that yearning aside.
"Rori, I didn't bring you here to hurt you." He said carefully.
"Stay the fuck away from me!" She spat out, a cornered cat with claws out and ready to fight, hissing and snarling despite the fact that she was cowering in fear.
Slowly and carefully moving closer, much like he would a wounded and feral animal, he placed a gentle hand upon a cheek that had her spine stiffening. "You're safe, Rori. 'M not gonna hurt you."
The fear began to fizzle away, and somehow it left her feeling more on edge, shaking her head, terrified of what would be left if the fear faded.
"'S'alright, Rori. You're safe with me." He murmured again, cautiously hugging her close against him.
And she broke.
…
The following morning she awoke to the sound of crackling bacon, the hearty, rich scent of it swirling in the air. She blinked open puffy eyes and sat up on the couch. Sunlight poured into the room, and she couldn't help but admire how pretty it was, with its simple decor.
She stood up, the shirt Aster had lent to her hanging around her knees, long woolen socks warming her feet. Nose leading the way, she padded over to the kitchen, intrigued by the sight of a man cooking. She could see the muscles in his back rippling as he moved and she couldn't help but wonder what was beneath the fabric.
Vigorously shaking away the thought, she silently watched him. Her heart skipped a beat when he turned and she saw those pretty eyes and that oh-so handsome and charming grin.
"Mornin' pretty girl, made ya some breakfast if yer feelin' up to it."
Unsure of what to say or do, she nodded, sitting at the table and feeling as out of place as a weed amongst a meadow of flowers.
He set a plate in front of her, leaning down to kiss the top of her head before turning to tidy up the small kitchen. The small show of affection tugged at her heart strings, unlocking something inside her that terrified her even more- but her rumbling stomach took her attention so she carefully picked up the fork and neatly began to eat the meal he'd prepared for her.
"I'm due to be on base soon, but yer free to stay here as long as ya like."
Just like that?
Who was this man? This strange specimen of man who was kind and caring? Was he just waiting for her to lower her guard so that he could pounce when she was vulnerable and didn't expect it?
So she kept silent, as much out of fear of what she'd say and of how he'd respond. She didn't notice the way her free hand worried the hem of her shirt nor did she notice the knot in her stomach that wasn't from hunger.
It stayed that way for a moment, silent while she ate and he cleaned. Such an odd flip of roles for her when she'd only known serving her husband and awaiting the ridicule that followed.
When he turned around again she watched him carefully, feeling weak and unsure of herself. Such a strange sensation when all her life she'd always felt she knew who she was. But he smiled at her as if he understood, and simply moved to her to kiss her head once more and give her hair a gentle stroke before leaving the room.
…
The sweet blonde sat there for a long while after he left, wary and unsure of herself still. This was beyond what she knew, beyond what she was used to. Even around Kenny, she'd never been awash with this sensation of feeling cared for, and she didn't know what to make of it.
Idle hands making her nervous, she stood and tidied up her dishes, neatly putting them away. It was her day off in any case, so she wasn't sure what to do with herself. The house was rather quiet, but something about it was soothing. Even with the memory of how she'd sobbed in his arms the night before, she felt a strange ease.
In one of the rooms she found her dress laying neatly on the bed. It dawned on her that he must have cleaned it overnight, as it was dry and ready to be worn. It had her throat thickening with an emotion she recognized but preferred to pretend was foreign.
Quickly changing, she decided the least she could do was tidy up the already clean house further as a thank you for giving her a place to sleep for the night.
She found simple chores and tasks to do. Washing the linens on the bed and clipping them on the clothesline outside. Putting on fresh ones so that he'd have a clean bed to rest that night. Sweeping and mopping the smooth wood floors. Dusting off the furnishings.
She even went as far as to take out all the dishes from the cabinets and wash them one by one. Cleaning brought her peace, and she found herself humming contentedly, some long lost tune from her childhood.
But when a fragile teacup crashed onto the floor, the serenity that had surrounded her shattered and joined the pieces at her feet.
She heard the door opening and closing, his deep voice calling out to her and her heart sank. How was he home so soon? Had he come back for lunch?
That just had to be her rotten luck.
Crumbling to her feet, shaky hands began scooping up the pieces in an attempt to hide away her failure.
And when she saw two boots in front of her face she scrambled back against the cabinet under the sink, drawing her knees in and avoiding his gaze. Uneven and ragged breaths failed to bring in the air she needed, and it left her feeling fearful and lightheaded. Her body stiffened, awaiting the beating she was sure would come.
"D-Don't hurt me, please." She whimpered pathetically. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I'll…I'll buy you another cup, please, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Rori finished meekly, head hanging in shame as she curled further inward. She didn't even notice the shards digging into her palm or the blood beginning to ooze around the pieces.
Careful and gentle fingers unwrapped her fingers from the broken remnants of the teacup. Without a word he simply scooped her up into his arms and her heart sank, certain she was in for it. She could already feel her mind retreating into that safe place, where she knew nothing could hurt her.
So when all she felt was water being poured over the wound she gaped at him. Eyes wide and wary and fearful, much like a doe caught in the hunter's crosshairs.
He simply smiled at her, continuing his kind movements as he cleaned the cut on her palm. "I told ya, yer safe here."
…
As the days and weeks wore on, she slowly found herself growing more and more comfortable with Aster. Every time she messed up anything she full-heartedly expected a beating, but instead, each time he simply helped her tidy up the mess and gave her a neat kiss on top of her head. And each time was like this, and it helped her mind slowly grow to accept that maybe she was, indeed, safe with him.
And as the fear slowly left her, she was left with that desire that was bubbling beneath the surface. The light touches on her skin, the gentle kisses to her head, it all left her burning and yearning for more. At night when he was asleep in his room and she lay awake, body needy and aching for a man's touch, she let her hand slip between her legs in an attempt to ease the desire.
Futile as ever.
This desire she felt for him was different. With Kenny there had been fire and flames. With Aster, she felt a warmth, a throbbing that begged for him.
So strange.
She didn't know if she even wanted to lay with a man again. Sure, she may have felt the urge, but could she really let her guard down once more? Let herself be vulnerable?
Oh, who was she kidding? She was too old for him in any case. And clearly he thought so too, since he never even tried to make a move despite the desire she saw in his eyes.
So she kept to herself, grateful for the home and the work, and she made sure to contribute the way she always had. Food and hot meals waited on the table for Aster every evening when he got home, and he always eagerly ate every bite- he even insisted that she sit beside him and eat, too.
But one fateful night changed the course of her life once again.
A fitful bout of sleep had pulled her into a nightmare, one she hadn't had since Aster had brought her to his house. Whimpers and pleas filled the air as she restlessly moved beneath the blanket where she lay on the couch her sleeping mind betraying her with memories of him
Shaken awake, she sat up and scrambled away from the shadow sitting beside her, heart racing in her throat. But then she recognized the voice and threw herself at him, silently begging for comfort as she trembled in his arms. Without hesitation, he simply scooped her up and carried her back into his room, where he settled down with her beneath his blanket. He simply held her close as she sobbed, wishing he could go back in time and tear apart limb from limb that man who had dared try to hurt a woman as sweet and loving as Rori.
Her cries slowly quieted, and she became more aware of where she currently lay. But instead of being afraid, she found herself soothed as she pulled back to look at him with wounded eyes.
Not giving her room to second guess herself, she closed the distance and kissed him, gently, tenderly feeling her spirit slowly mend itself when he kissed her back. Her body warmed, melting away the ice as she ran her fingers through his silky hair. Oh Walls, and she'd thought she hadn't wanted this anymore? She'd almost forgotten what it truly felt like to have a man's lips on hers. His were so loving and sweet, so different from Kenny's, but it soothed her soul in a way she hadn't realised she'd needed.
So she let instinct guide her as she slowly began unbuttoning his shirt so she could finally explore the strong expanse of his chest that lay beneath. Nor did she resist when he did the same. Rori gasped softly into his mouth when she felt his thumbs graze her nipples, sending warmth flowing straight to her center.
When they were both bare, Aster rolled above her, pulling back with questions in his eyes as he gazed down at her. All she saw was healthy desire, no malice, no malintent. So she smiled, nodding as she wrapped her limbs around him, guiding him into her, so full with him that she didn't know where she ended and he began.
…
The following morning she was preparing breakfast in the kitchen, one of his shirts donned over her slender figure. She couldn't stop the little tune she hummed, nor did she really want to. She hadn't felt so light in ages, as if nothing could ever deign to stop her. She felt confident, almost like the woman she used to be.
Who would have thought that all she needed was a man like Aster to help restore her faith in men and support her in being the best version of herself?
For once, when she felt strong arms loop around her waist she didn't flinch. Instead, she leaned into the strong chest behind her, her heart flipping when she felt him nuzzle into her neck.
"Someone's in quite the chipper mood this morning." He hummed languidly, voice still laced with the huskiness of sleep.
"Well, an orgasm will certainly do that to a girl."
"I'd say more than one. Didn't know a dainty thing like you could be so loud, but I have to say, I quite enjoyed hearing you moan my name."
She giggled a touch, remembering just how many times she'd come last night. She hadn't thought it was possible, thought she wouldn't be blessed with another man who could make her feel this way again.
But surely it couldn't continue.
Time to put some distance in place.
"As fun as it was, sugar, it can't happen again."
"Oh I disagree, I think it can certainly happen again."
His hard length pressing against her worked to emphasize his point and had her blood running hot once more, perhaps even more than the night before.
"Aster, I'm far too old for you."
"Don't care." He murmured drowsily, starting to stick kisses along her neck, reaching around to flick off the stove. "I have a need for you, Rori, and it's nowhere close to being fulfilled."
Her breath hitched, and she was helpless to the way her head moved to give him better access. That didn't stop her from protesting, though she was starting to forget why she wanted to, especially with the way he was licking along her ear. It had her eyes crossing and had her gripping tightly onto his hands.
"Aster.." She lulled breathlessly, "I think-"
"Mm, I'd say you're thinkin' too much." He cut her off, cupping her generous breasts in his hands and walking her backwards back to his bedroom. "We need to do something' about that."
Her head was spinning, heart fluttering as she struggled to keep her thoughts straight. "Aster, I'm serious."
"So am I."
Without another word, he tossed her back on his bed and moved to cover her, cutting off any further protests with his mouth on hers. Kissing her deeply, he made quick work of her shirt- well, his shirt- stripping it off her so he could enjoy those breasts again. He only broke the kiss so he could take one of her nipples into his mouth, greedily lapping and sucking at it.
That simple act alone was enough to pull a throaty moan from her as she clutched at his hair, back arching sweetly beneath him.
Aw hell, what's one more time?
…
One more time turned into an endless amount of times.
The two of them went at it like teenagers, and she hadn't felt so young and cherished and beautiful in so long. Longer than she remembered. He made her feel light and airy, this simple man she'd met at a tavern. He made her feel safe and protected, this sweet man who'd brought her into his home without hesitation.
It didn't take long for her to slip into love with him, each day falling deeper and deeper for him. Her heart just couldn't resist the gentle soul that was Aster.
And when she realized the depth of her feelings, it had her scrambling back, trying to stop them in their tracks- only for him to tenderly bring her back to him with his endless well of patience and understanding. Each day she spent with him had her healing in ways she hadn't known she'd needed.
So the day he finally professed his love for her, asking her to marry him and spend the rest of her life with him, she no longer felt the need to flee.
She finally felt safe again.
She finally felt at peace.
They were married in a small and simple church, with no one in attendance other than the two of them- his family lived in Shiganshina, and it was too short of notice for them all to attend. No matter.
He bought her a gorgeous dress of white, with a simple skirt that flowed from her waist to her feet, and a bodice that was elegant, covered with a delicate lace that must have cost a pretty Sina. She'd never felt so beautiful than she did on the day where she married her sweet Aster. They moved to the small town of Yeste in the inner section of Wall Maria, southeast of Trost by a bit, where he'd bought them a small house where they could start their life together. She'd never been happier, bussing tables at a tavern nearby by day, making love to her doting and sweet husband by night.
And when he told her he wanted to start trying for a family, for a baby, she thought she could burst with joy.
The day Rosie was born was the first time she saw Aster cry. Tears had trickled down his cheek as he'd held their newborn daughter in his arms, cradling her fragile head. She'd been exhausted from endless hours of labour where Aster had been her rock. Massaging her feet, her belly, holding her up when she wanted to collapse, he'd been there. He knew that at her age it was harder on her than most, but he didn't seem to care, knowing that they were lucky to have their little one in the first place. When it had been time to push, she'd been stripped to the skin, kneeling against him while the midwife waited patiently with outstretched hands as Rori's body slowly fought to bring her daughter into the world.
He'd held her close against him, her hands clawing at his back with her face buried in his neck as she grunted and panted and strained with each contraction. Aster hadn't faltered, not once. And when her baby had slipped from her body and into the world, she'd collapsed against him in relief.
Hours later, they'd laid snuggled together, Rosaria suckling at her breast as she leaned against Aster, exhausted but elated. Looking up at her husband she'd kissed him lovingly, and when she pulled back, the tender love in his eyes had taken her breath away.
A few weeks later, he'd been sent off to aid the Scouts in their departure from Shiganshina, and had been crushed by a Titan's foot as he attempted to rescue one of the new cadets.
And her world had turned dark and bleak once more.
…
May, 845
Now Rori was face to face with a brunette whose hair was licked with embers of red in the light that leaked through the window- Hange, if she recalled correctly. Her glasses had a glare to them as she approached and got up close and personal with the blonde, clearly disgusted with her words towards poor Kuchel. The words that she already regretted with everything in her. "You owe her an apology."
Scooting further back onto the bed, she tried to get away from Hange's piercing gaze, her heart thrumming in her chest with tears pooling in her eyes. "P-Please don't…"
Shoving her glasses up on her head, Hange caged her in, clearly not amused by any means with her pathetic attempts to get away. "No." Oh fuck, that pissed off look was one she was far too familiar with- it reminded her of a woman she'd met before, back in the days when she worked in the tavern across from the brothel. The furrowed brows and stern look of disappointment and rage. "She's done so much for you and you practically spit in her face. I might be half as old as you, but I can tell an ungrateful bitch when I see one. You don't deserve the help she's given you, if you ask me."
"That's not true, I didn't-"
Hange was quick to cut her off. "If it weren't for Miss Kuchel, you'd be Titan food. Your baby, too. I guess you'd rather have had your bones snapped, huh? Is that preferable?"
She tried to shrink back into the mattress further, avoiding the woman's gaze. "Of course not, but you need to understand that there are things that you don't know about. Kuchel isn't all she's cracked up to be." The insult is pretty pathetic, given she was barely whispering.
"There's nothing you could tell me that would change my mind. And see..." The brunette leaned in closer. "I'm a smart woman. I've pieced it together. You're pissy because you think she left you behind and forgot about you. I watched her write you letters, and never did she get a single reply. So don't give me your wallowing self-pity that you're pushing onto her as misdirected anger." Hange stood up straight, giving Rori some breathing room as she adjusted her glasses. "I feel sorry for your daughter, Miss Rori. What kind of example are you setting?"
"Fuck you, you don't know me, and I don't know you. I have no reason to believe anything you say. Get out of my room." Rori crossed her arms stubbornly over her chest, even though it hurt her stitches to do so, refusing to look at the soldier in front of her. She then watched as Hange gave a pity-filled laugh of sorts, striding away towards the door in a nonchalant fashion.
"Fine. I'll get out of your room. The one that she bargained with Erwin to get for you, the one with the crib she begged someone from town to sell to her for a pretty Sina. The one with the clothes she found for you when she barely has enough to wear herself. That room. Got it."
And then Rori was all alone again with her dear Rosaria.
It was a tough decision, but she decided that this wasn't the place for her. She needed to go find a new home, one where Kuchel and Levi wouldn't be bothered by her ever again, where she and her daughter would be safe from the malicious Titans. But fuck, she couldn't afford to live in Wall Sina… Where was there to go? Most of her money was stowed away in a safe back in her home in the now Titan-ridden land of Yeste.
Fuck, whatever, she'd figure it out.
Walls, she missed Aster.
Packing her satchel of things and securing her baby girl to her chest with a sling, she went on her merry way, not giving anyone as much as a goodbye before she did so. It was better that way. It was better if she didn't have second thoughts, better if someone didn't try to convince her to stay and give her doubts.
The nearest city was Ermich, which would likely have some cheap inns that she could try to work in for the time being. On foot it only took a few days, with some stops in villages for water, food, and rest. Luckily, Rosie didn't seem too perturbed, which made the journey far easier.
A tavern just outside the gate of Ermich District looked promising, and that was where she met a sweet, older gentleman, who was cleaning glasses behind the counter. "Hello there, Miss. What can I do you for?"
"Hello, I was wondering if you were looking to hire a barmaid? I have a lot of experience, and if you let me stay in one of the rooms and rent it from you I'd promise to work extra hard." She said, rubbing her baby's back to soothe her. The man looked at her with a kind smile, and nodded after a moment or two of thinking.
"Sure thing. You're hired, Miss…?"
"Rori." She hummed, reaching out to shake his hand. "Rori Zorandis. Or Barlowe. My husband died, but I never got to change my name, so…"
"Ah, I see. Well, you can just call me Henry. It's nice to meet you, Miss Rori. I'm happy to have such a pretty face working for me, and I can tell your heart is just as nice."
It was a relief to have a job. To make her own money again. Henry knew that things were going to be harder than ever before, and that more soldiers would be making their way through this part of town on their way to help the refugees of Wall Maria.
The ones just like her.
Aster, I wish you were here.
Rori got into the swing of her new job within a few days, having been a barmaid for so long that she knew the ins and outs no matter where she went- she'd worked with the scum of the Underground and the polished elites of Mitras, so there was nothing she couldn't handle.
Until she saw him.
He settled into a seat at the counter before her, slapping down a few copper Marias. "Hey there, princess. Long time, no see. Get me a whiskey, will ya?"
Swallowing her nerves that began to go berserk within her, she gave a silent nod, turning to make the drink before serving it to him. "What are ya doin' here, James?"
Swirling the booze in the crisp glass, the man that she oh-so loathed threw it back before wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve like the cheap bastard he was. "Could ask you the same thing. You're my wife, don't ya remember? You're not up here legally."
"You don't know shit." She gritted out, trying to keep her composure as the tavern continued to bustle around them, as though their exchange was the least consequential thing in the world. Maybe no one would have noticed if he whipped out a pistol and shot her point blank in the forehead, with all of this racket going on.
"Oh, I don't? Well, I know that yer a dirty bitch that went and read my journal." He growled lowly, and she flinched when he put the glass down firmly, though not slamming it before he reached forward and seized her forearm in his hand, strong and weathered from mining in the Underground. Fuck, it hurt, he was squeezing so tight she was sure that he was going to snap her bone. "And I think you and I need to have a talk."
Rori didn't know what else to do, her mind whirring as though busy bees were bumbling and buzzing inside her head. So she used all of the strength that she could muster, yanking her limb from his iron-tight grip to rush back into the kitchen, where cooks were busy making food for patrons. Sweet old Henry was tasting a stew when he saw Rori stumble in, with her hands shaking and face as pale as a sheet. "Rori, darling, whatsa matter?" He asked, coming over and touching her shoulder to make sure she didn't tip over with a gust of the wind.
"M-My ex-husband's at the bar, Henry… he wants to kill me. Ya gotta help me, please. Please go talk to him so I can grab Rosie and run… If I don't he… I don't know what he's gonna do to me." The blonde was trying so terribly hard not to burst into tears with every word she uttered.
Henry had a look in his eyes, as though the wisdom of all of his years told him all that was going on behind the curtain without her saying a word. Quickly, he nodded to her, and reached into his pocket for a few coins that he moved to place into the palm of her hand. "Go. I'll keep him busy, don't you worry. You grab Rosie, you take my horse, and you get the hell out of dodge, got it?"
The wave of gratitude that washed over her was insurmountable, but she knew she couldn't waste any time. Thanking him swiftly, she ran out of the back door of the kitchen, heading to the set of detached inn rooms behind the main building. There she had moved her few belongings into a small room, and had left Rosie in her crib to nap for a while. During her shifts she had been sure to come and check her, but now it was time to scoop her up and take her away. Far, far away.
I don't understand. How did he find me? He's gonna kill me and my lil munchkin… I gotta tell someone.
As she got Henry's horse ready in the stable, with Rosie snugly slung against her chest, it dawned on her.
Fuck, I gotta tell Kuchel.
…
And that brought her to the present day, where she found herself face to face with the noirette herself, her visage painfully reminding her of her sweet Kenny. They were siblings, after all. They had that same hardened gaze from being raised in the Underground slums.
Rori had gone on horseback to the Scout's base, and now that she wasn't walking, it was much faster. It was night time when she arrived, and the guard recognised her when she approached, making it all the easier to tie up the stallion and run to find the one she'd come for.
The one she'd once considered to be her best friend. Someone she'd likened to being her sister. But that was neither here nor there. As much as she hated Kuchel right now- and as much as Kuchel hated her back- she needed to do two things: ask her for her forgiveness, and beg her for her help.
Scurrying with uneasy feet, she made her way into the barracks, rushing past the stragglers in the halls who were bumbling around after their midnight meals or love affairs. None of it mattered to her. Rori knew where she needed to go, and didn't care about anyone else in her way.
When she arrived at Kuchel's oak door, it made her heart stop. Was she doing the right thing? What if Kuchel turned her away? What if-
"Rori?"
Startled out of her skin, Rori fumbled as she turned to face the one that uttered her name and had to gently shush Rosie who'd stirred in her sleep. It was none other than the one she'd been looking for, donned in her nightgown with her braid snaking down her back to keep the dark locks out of her face. Thinking for a moment, the blonde felt somewhat idiotic- it was one of the nights of the week that Kuchel stayed up to go play chess with remembered that much from hearing her mention it briefly at some point, trying to make conversation back in the medical wing.
When I was giving her the coldest shoulder I could have.
"K-Kuchel." Rori's baby-blue eyes grew misty as she looked at her, pleading for understanding, for mercy, if even only for a moment. She needed someone again, and Kuchel was the only one she had thought to turn to.
Kuchel seemed rather unsure for a spell, but turned to unlock the door to her barracks, letting herself and Rori inside. She was a mother herself, and Rori knew that the baby in her arms was giving her friend a reason to help her, even if she'd been so horrible to her days prior.
They sat down together, Kuchel upon her own bed, Rori on the empty one nearby. It must have been that red-headed girl's bed before she died. Was Isabel her name? Levi had mentioned something to her about his two friends not having made it on the expedition, and it had been hard for her in the moment to hide how much it pained her to hear that.
What a cruel, cruel world this was.
Putting a pillow into her lap, Kuchel folded her hands and fiddled with her thumbs. The dustings of stress were evident in her facial features, and it was understandable, given the situation with the collapse of Wall Maria. "Well… I'm listening."
And that was when Rori couldn't hold it in any longer.
She disclosed her past, shared the sufferings and traumas of her life since she'd left, and she watched her former friend's face. That was one thing she'd always envied about Kuchel. The way she could mask her thoughts, feelings, reactions with ease. She was generally quick to figure a person out—she had to be working as a waitress—but she couldn't get a read or sense of what was happening in that vast mind of Kuchel's. But she could see the gears turning.
Finally, she made it to the end, right before her escape where she confessed that the man she'd married and vowed to love until death do they part had been a killer, a murderer, an abuser, and he'd broken her much like he'd broken the others. He had written it in his journal that she'd found on that fateful day, and it was what made her realise that she needed to run far, far away.
"Th-That's not even the worst part, Kuchel." Rori sobbed, wiping her eyes furiously as she sat slumped in the bed opposite of the ravenette's, arms curled protectively around Rosie, glancing at the door as if expecting him to burst through at any second to finally kill her.
An expression change made its way over Kuchel's face, her brow raising and her eyes looking as though they were full of pity, disgust, and curiosity. It was relieving to know that she at least felt some sort of emotion towards the things that she had been told about him. "What is it, Rori?"
Swallowing thickly, she took a deep breath. The contents of that journal whirred in her mind, and she knew that Kuchel would pallour at the news.
"James, he… he killed Brenda."
Bonjour, hello, it's been almost two months. Trust me, I'm not dead. Just busy at my new job, trying to find an apartment, you know the deal. Don't worry I haven't forgotten about this story!
Thanks to StarlitScarlet, she helped immensely with this chapter. She wrote a huge chunk of it and beta'd as per usual. I was in a rut and she really helped me figure out what was going on.
So alongside this, I've been working on another project. What is it, you may ask? You'll just have to wait and see. Maybe if enough of you comment asking about it, I'll share a snippet on KoFi or on my Twitter page :
Song Award for this chapter go to Yoru wa Nemurerukai? by Flumpool, great song, please give it a listen!
Also, I wonder why Rori's mom got killed by the government? Hm...