Full Summary: Taryn got herself out of hell when the Titans were set upon her home. After being drafted into the military's most dangerous branch for a "retake operation," she's gotten herself out a second time. Left on her own and with nowhere left to go, she joins the Survey Corps with a small group in a similar position.

But how long could a baker's daughter survive with so many factors against her?

Meanwhile, Levi's split-second decision not only lead to Taryn's second survival but to his reluctant association with one of the biggest brats he's had the misfortune to meet. He's sure he has Taryn pegged, a spoiled younger daughter of a business owner in the Survey Corps for the wrong reasons. He never quite expected what this brat would do next.

Authors Note: Before we start, I'll simply say you can find me on tumblr at evrtriestowrite. I'm hoping to keep my writing blog more active in 2024.

First Step After the Fall
Chapter One
That Day

4 cups flour
3 teaspoons yeast
1 ¾ cups water
3 tablespoons honey (or sugar)
¾ teaspoon salt
⅓ cup oil
(Add nuts and berries for breakfast bread)
(Add lavender for a little more flavor)
(Add cheese!)

Dissolve years in water, add honey and let stand until it bubbles
Add salt and oil to yeast mixture, add flour a little at a time until dough stiffens
On a floured surface mold dough into ball
Place ball in pan, cover, let rise for an hour
Knead dough place loaf into pan (BUTTER PAN)
Cover again let it rise until double in size
Put in oven for about 45 minutes
Bread is done when golden
(Look for hollow sound)

- Basic bread recipe as written down by
Colbert Ende, with notes added by Rambert Ende,
Garit Ende, and Taryn Ende

Taryn's hands were wrapped up in a pair of thick towels when she reached into the hearth. With her sleeves rolled up just above her elbows, the head of the fire warmed her arms in an instant. Her grip was awkward, but she managed to pull out the baking sheet without any problems.

A dozen rolls in the shape of plump songbirds were perched neatly in rows of four. Golden brown, they were still steaming when Taryn brought the pan to the cooling table. The bird rolls were Taryn's specialty in her not-so-humble opinion. The result of essentially playing with bread dough. Just knot a strip of dough, place a small ball on top, and you have a little bird. Add a few itty bitty pieces of dried fruit and you have eyes and a beak.

A little creative ingenuity, Taryn found, went a long way.

After she placed the baking sheet down on the cooling table, Taryn unwound the towels from her hands. She stretched out her fingers once they were freed of their towel confinements. Her hands hadn't been baby-smooth since she was about eight or so. They were always going dry from the heat of the oven and often they were submerged from keeping them clean and cleaning dishes. Unfortunately, she was out of her hand salve. When Bethan left that morning, Taryn mentioned that she would need more. But Bethan left the bakery distracted, so Taryn wasn't going to expect a new container when she got back.

She snatched the sandwich from the plate on the cooling table. On her first bite, Taryn was met with the crunch of toasted bread and warm gooey cheese between the slices. After swallowing, Taryn's eyes closed in a moment of contentment. Finally, the hunger pains in her gut were beginning to settle down.

On average, Taryn's mornings started early to get the prep work down. So she hadn't eaten since before the crack of dawn.

That was her life, mornings of whisking flour and salt, measuring butter, and then kneading it all together. Mornings of grinding sugar into fine powder, or whisking margarine and sugar into buttercream. And those were just moringa where they didn't have any specific orders to fill out, parties, weddings, special occasions.

Taryn licked the remaining margarine residue and bread crumbs off her fingers when she finished her sandwich. She could hear the familiar timber of her father's voice singing on the other side of the wall in the main shop. A small tell that the shop was empty at the moment.

Humming along to Garit's song, Taryn strolled across the room, to the mixing table and reached up for the shelf above the table. Besides jars of dried sprigs of lavender, rosemary, and violet petals was a worn, fabric-bound book; she pulled it down from the shelf. The pages had yellowed with age, dog-eared in the corners. Pages were slightly crinkled from various spills over the years.

Inside were various recipes written by four generations of Ende bakers, starting with Taryn's great-grandfather, Colbert Ende after he started the family business over from scratch with his pregnant wife. Over the years, addendums and new recipes were added, written by Colbert's son Rambert, Rambert's son Garit, and finally Taryn herself. If the Endes had a family heirloom, then it was this book of recipes.

Taryn skimmed through the pages, trying to recall the altered recipe she dreamed up last night in bed. She spent most of her teen years experimenting with recipes and ingredients to elevate the flavor and experience. Some of her experiments bore fruit and became seasonal treats. Not her lavender cookies, though. Those were year-round stables of the bakery these days.

Today, Taryn was thinking about using cream cheese in a pound cake recipe. Eaten with some raspberries… No, a raspberry glaze! But they didn't have cream cheese, did they? She'd probably have to go out and get some cream cheese, but…

"Still no sign of Christoph or your mother?"

Taryn's heart lurched.

Clutching the book to her chest, she whirled around to find a man in his mid-forties with a hand on the half-door. Garit was tall and broad-shouldered, with a slight gut, though it was hardly visible beneath his baggy shirt. His hair was brown, like Taryn's was, but peppered with grey strands. Brown and grey whiskers dusted his jaw. His hand was missing the wedding band that matched his wife's. He never wore it while working for fear of accidentally baking it into one of their products. Upon the bridge of Garit's nose sat a pair of round specs.

Shoulder's relaxing, Taryn lowered the book. "You know how Mom gets whenever the Survey Corps goes outside." She hoped she was hiding her irritation well. Taryn knew well enough that revealing too much was only going to cause problems. "So we shouldn't expect her home until later, regardless if they're back today or not."

"Right…" Garit spoke in such a way, Taryn wasn't sure if he caught her irritation or not. It did not help that Taryn was like Bethan, a regular mule once they made up their minds. Which meant Garit often played the part of the family peacemaker. "Why don't you take the rest of the day off?"

"I don't have to, Dad." Taryn absently put the recipe book on the table. Without looking at him, she removed the band that kept her hair up. It had long since started to fall out, a common battle she often lost. After she shook it out, she gathered it into her hands and started to twist it back up. "I just took some buns out of the hearth. I was thinking about making a pound cake next. Or, if you want, I can man the shop for a bit and you can-"

"Taryn, the day's already half over." Gari crossed his arms over his chest as he spoke. "It's already been a slow day. I don't think we need to use up any more supplies today."

Taryn pursed her lips together so tight they turned white. She was all too tempted to take Garit up on his offer. If Garit was right, the most they could and should reasonably do was prep work for tomorrow morning. Her gaze wandered from the door at the back of the room, the one that led upstairs where they lived, then back to Garit.

"Go ahead," Garit insisted with a lazy wave of his hand. "I'll be fine on my own."

It would have been the dutiful thing for Taryn to insist she keep working. To keep helping Garit. But instead, Taryn gave in to her more selfish side. "Thanks, Daddy!"

Her hands slipped behind her, undoing the laces of her apron. She hung it up by the stairway door on her way over.

Taryn's bedroom was at the end of the upstairs hall. Right across from the master bedroom, easy access when Taryn was young. Little had changed in the room since she was a child, there was a bed by the window opposite the door, and a small bedside table beside it. A bookcase with a small collection of well-read, second-hand books. On the top of the bookcase was an empty bowl, a water pitcher, a hand towel, and a small used cake of soap. A small mirror hung on the wall over the shelf.

Braced against the wall opposite the bookcase was a wooden wardrobe. A bit worn down after decades of use; its double doors were carved with flowers and leafy vines on the surface. On one of the door, handles hung Taryn's satchel. The wardrobe was originally Grandma Iida, a handmade gift from Colbert to welcome his son's new bride into the home. It was given to Taryn after Iida passed away.

After she kicked off her work shoes, Taryn approached her bookcase and tipped the pitcher over the bowl. Wetting the towel, she used it to wipe away the remaining flour and sweat on her face. With a little scrubbing, Taryn revealed the spray of freckles across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Even that little cleaning made her feel better after a long day of work.

When she was satisfied enough, Taryn left the towel on the edge of the bowl and took a seat on her bed. She stole a look at her lavender plant on the windowsill. When her lavender cookies caught on, Taryn figured that it'd be a little more cost-efficient to just grow the lavender herself. The plant would need another day or two before it needed watering.

She leaned back against her pillow and reached for the book on her bedside table. Though most of Taryn's books were a little worn from multiple readings, this book was so worn down that the binding was starting to fall apart. The front cover held on way too loose, the spine was cracked, and the paint over the cover title had long ago chipped away.

It was Taryn's favorite, White Rose of Bloodied Thorns. Though she probably couldn't recite the whole thing word for word, she could give a highly detailed description of the plot from beginning to end.

Taryn shifted on her mattress, getting herself comfortable to read. She opened her book to the page she left off on. The fighting was over, the villain was dead, and the beast the heroine had fallen for had suffered a fatal wound at the hand of the villain and -

And Taryn needed to talk to Bethan and discuss their fall lineup. Maybe she should take the time to pick some flowers soon. She always had to be precise with the flowers…

Wait, wasn't she supposed to be reading?

Except when Taryn tried to read, the words seemed to melt off the page. As much as she loved this book, she was bored right now.

"Of course," Taryn sighed. She snapped her book closed and went to crouch in front of her bookcase. Her lips were pursed to the side as she studied the titles. The Prince and the Changeling? No. A Taste of Poison? No. The Erlking's Daughter? No. Heart of the Mountain? No. "Damn, it all…"

Her hands braced atop the bookcase as she pulled herself up. She started to clean herself a little more earnestly now. Patting down her underarms and bust, behind her neck, and even her hairline. Taryn took her hair out of its bun and shook it out once more. After she raked her fingers through it, she tied it into a low ponytail with a ribbon.

Out of her wardrobe, Taryn got out a knitted jacket that was two sizes too big, and her new boots. After three weeks of waiting, Taryn was praying for an excuse to finally wear them. Fresh, light brown leather, ankle tall, with new laces.

She headed back downstairs after she grabbed her satchel and money purse. Even in the stairway, Taryn could hear the new song Garit was singing.

"Curse my restless wandering feet
Prone to wander endlessly
All the love you gave to me
Wasn't enough to keep me"

She opened the half door into the shop where they had several pieces on display. Bread artfully scored, shortbread cookies made with lavender, small cakes with fluffy icing. Iida often said that the store was in its heyday when Garit and Bethan got married. It was due to Bethan's merchant family and eye for business that they were able to flourish like this.

Garit was standing behind the counter where their transactions were made. Casually singing with a dust rag in his hand and whipping down the clean counter so much it was a wonder he hadn't left an indent on the surface.

"Cause, oh, I stole from my father
All I thought I could sell
Tossed his copper and watched as it fell
But there wasn't any water in the wishing well"

"I'll try not to be out too late," Taryn said, heading for the front door.

"Just have fun."

Taryn tried not to come across as overly eager when she left the bakery. She was greeted with the same sights she'd known all her life, the same rows of houses that almost boxed the Ende's bakery. The same massive wall that circled the Shiganshina District. And the same faces that went about their daily needs and rituals. The only things that ever changed were the lines on those faces.

With a brief exhale, Taryn started her trek down her intended path, towards the footbridge over the river that went through the district. At the bridge, she looked ahead and found neither a Garrison soldier nor a child coming, then she glanced back over her shoulder, still no one in sight.

Excellent.

With a running start, Taryn was able to jump onto the stone guardrail; she held her arms partially raised as she walked across the guardrail with the pace and balance of one doing this since childhood.

Ah, the days when the local Garrison Brigade had to fish her out of the river…

At least she was never the first, nor last, child to fall in.

When she reached the other side of the bridge, Taryn hopped off the guardrail, arms held even with her shoulders in an attempt to catch herself when her knees bent. The ribbon in her hair was beginning to come undone, which she fixed with an irritated huff. Not even five minutes out of the bakery…

It took another few minutes before Taryn arrived at the Royce's bookshop. It was a shop that was similar to the Ende's bakery; it's been in the Royce family since they first took residence in Shiganshina.

As Taryn opened the shop door, she was instantly met with the familiar scent of paper. Unfortunately, she nearly bumped into a gawky adolescent boy who was sweeping by the door. "Oh! Sorry, Benji."

Benji, or Ben as he insisted on as of late, turned pink in the face. His shoulders shrugged up to his ears as he continued sweeping. Twelve years old, starting his very own apprenticeship, Taryn suspected the boy wanted to come across as the most mature of anyone in his demographic. Taryn wasn't so old that she forgot, with some embarrassment, that she was the same way at that age, eager to be seen as a "working girl." With a salary.

Only to cringe a good six years later when she looked back on it.

An older gentleman peered out from one of the bookshelves. A tall rail of a man with glasses comically too large for his face and sporting a jacket hand knitted for him by his wife. "Oh, Taryn," Mr. Royce said in greeting. "I was just thinking about you the other day. Hold on a moment."

He dipped back behind the shelf briefly, only to come back with a book in hand. Taryn was about to comment when she noticed the name embossed on the cover, under a foiled image of a birdcage. Sing a Song of Yearning by Ada Barbot; White Rose of Bloodied Thorns, Ada Barbot.

The sound Taryn made in her excitement made Benji jump so much he almost dropped his broom. She made a beeline for Mr. Royce, who handed her the book as soon as Taryn was within arm's length. "You should have sent a message that the new Barbot was out! No, forget the message, you should have hand-delivered it to me as soon as you were able!"

"I could have done that." Mr. Royce bobbed his head slightly when he spoke. Crossing his arms over his chest he started drumming his fingers against his upper arm. "But how else could I get you here to brighten up the shop?"

Taryn's lips pulled back into a tight smile. Flipping through the pages, Taryn was eager to get back home and start reading. To view the new world Ada Barbot crafted. But Taryn devoured the last Barbot release so fast, that she decided she could purchase another book or two. "Are there any other new arrivals?" she asked.

Mr. Royce nonchalantly waved his hand. "Oh, plenty. I'm sure you know your way around the store."

Grinning, Taryn hugged the Barbot volume close to her chest. "I'm sure I do, too."

She gave Mr. Royce a brief wave of the hand before the both of them went their separate ways, disappearing between the shelves. Still smiling to herself, Taryn let one hand glide over the spines on the shelves as she passed by, looking for either an author she liked or a title that spoke to her.

There was something calming about being surrounded by books like this. The Royce's shop always carried a quiet that was difficult to obtain in the bakery. Even if there were multiple shoppers, they were almost always in hushed tones. Taryn struggled to recall a time when Mr. and Mrs. Royce called at each other from across the room the way the Endes would on busy days.

Perhaps it was because this wasn't Taryn's family store. Perhaps it was that separation that helped form the Royce's store into a haven. A place where Taryn could just breathe and surround herself with the friends to be made within the pages of the books. It wasn't too dissimilar to the time she took every night to read a chapter or two before bed. Those moments where she'd light a candle or two in her room, comfortable in her bed, and simply forget the stresses and events of the day to accompany changeling children in the fae world or take a glimpse into the world of the elite and their beautiful dresses and ballrooms.

Taryn couldn't tell you when she was bitten by the bookworm. However, Iida recounted evenings when Rambert would just… tell Taryn stories. Rambert died when Taryn was still pretty young, so even conjuring a memory of him, in general, was a struggle for her. But she wished, wished, wished she could remember those moments for herself.

After she had a debate with herself between two different books, Taryn realized this one made a total of four with the Barbot novel. It was probably best she quit while she was ahead before she spent everything in her purse.

Mr. Royce was already at the counter by the time Taryn approached with her collection of books. He was jotting something down in a record book, only glancing up when Taryn placed her books on the countertop. "Find everything alright?" he asked, closing the record book.

"Yup."

"Good, good…" Mr. Royce's voice trailed off as he drew up Taryn's bill. Briefly, he glanced up. "Might I trouble you with an order?"

"For you? It's no trouble at all."

"Well…" Mr. Royce glanced from side to side, finding only Benji dusting off the shelves. The older man leaned across the counter; Taryn instinctively mimicked the gesture. "Nellie mentioned last night that she was craving one of your blackberry lavender cakes."

A smile played upon Taryn's lips. "Not a problem. Do you want me to send you a message when it's ready?"

"Yes, please." He handed Taryn her bill. "That'll be nine hundred schilf, my dear."

She gave Mr. Royce a small silver coin and got back a large copper coin. He placed the bill on top of Taryn's pile of books as she readied her satchel; keeping it open with one hand she eased three of the four tomes inside. The Barbot book remained cradled in her arm.

"Tell your father I said hi, won't you?"

"Sure will."

"Save travels, my dear."

Taryn waved goodbye to Mr. Royce, and then Benji before she left. Her fingers glided over the birdcage imprint on the cover. Walking down the road, Taryn opened the book to the first page, she was met with the familiar, delightful aroma of fresh paper. She started to read;

'She could hear the wanton moans from the other side of the wall at the head of her bed. Glaring at the wall, Linnet wished she could just walk to the wine cellar. Perhaps if she could get black-out drunk it would make this long, night shorter.

'A thud rumbled from the other side of the wall. The concubine he had chosen tonight released breathy moans, indicating each trust. The woman's voice grew higher and higher until she was borderline singing when she finally reached her climax.'

Ooh! It was that kind of yearning.

A chill ran down Taryn's spine, her arms broke out into gooseflesh. This was a bit more… tantalizing than Barbot's previous books. Not that Taryn was complaining, quite the opposite. But Barbot often wrote about fae lands and magical kingdoms. Was this one a bit more down to earth?

'Well,' Taryn considered, 'one way to find out.'

'Linnet could almost picture it as though she were a witness. A broad man with deep red hair, his hands braced against the wall, thrusting into his night's chosen concubine. The girl's legs in the air and her breasts heaving with each movement. "My King…" Linnet heard.

'Her hands gripped the soft sheets of her bed, body trembling from head to toe. She was trembling with a vicious yearning. To be with her King physically, intimately, to just be held by him again. To talk to him.

'When was the last time Agron, her king, her beloved, laid next to her?

'A sudden voice ripped Linnet from her thoughts, the timber of King Agron's voice. "You're boring me. You two, over here."

'With her eyes welling with tears, Linnet buried her face into the pillow, sobbing with frustration. 'Hold me. Caress me. Take me plea-'

"TARYN!"

Without warning, Taryn felt the weight of a person on her back. Her ear ached with a voice yelling directly into it. A set of arms wrapped themselves around her neck, jerking Taryn's arm back so much she dropped her book. The weight on her back increased as the person lifted their feet off the ground. "When was the last time I saw you out and about like this?! Feels like months, but it's gotta be just a couple of weeks, right? You gotta get out of that kitchen more often!"

"I can't hold you like this!" Taryn whined. She forced herself to straighten, which forced the young woman off her back.

She whipped around to find a young woman about her age. Her tawny-colored hair hung down her front in a pair of low braids, framing her heart-shaped face. Amelie Birnbaum, one of Taryn's former schoolmates, one of a handful she still kept in touch with, and the daughter of the town cobbler. The last time Taryn and Amelie spoke, she was just starting a relationship with a thatcher's son from Wall Maria's interior.

Crossing her arms, Amelie pursed her lips innocently. "I would have thought you'd have stronger legs with all those flour sacks you move."

"Shockingly," Taryn bent down to collect her book, "it's different when someone hurls themselves at you."

"Hm, guess you have a point." Amelie stretched her arms above her head as she continued speaking. "So, how are you? It feels like we see bears out more than you these days."

"I've been working. Not all of us have three brothers to help take some of the workload off."

"Well…" Amelie linked her arm with Taryn's. "Guess that means we're overdue for a drink!"

Before Taryn could think to say anything, Amelie led Taryn down the road. They may have remained friends after school, but Taryn found that Amelie could be a bit much sometimes. Especially when Taryn had just gotten out of work. With three brothers and a sister-in-law to help, the work wasn't as hard as it could be. Taryn didn't doubt the workload at the bakery would have improved if Christoph stayed home.

Taryn tried not to let it get to her too much when Amelie was out a lot. Neither of them had much control over this aspect of their lives, after all.

Within a few minutes, Amelie led Taryn into one of the busier areas of Shiganshina; people murmured around them, going about their business before it grew too late in the day. The girls only slowed their pace as they passed a crier from the Church of the Walls to spread the word of the Walls' blessings, and a young girl collecting donations.

"Do they bring orphans into their cult, or are kids only there because of the parents?" Taryn asked in a hushed tone.

She glanced back over her shoulder at the child. It was difficult to tell how old she was, but it wasn't hard to see how her gaze followed each passer-by with timidity and embarrassment in her gaze. As if she were trying to say, 'Yes, I know how this sounds. No, being here was not my choice,' with nothing but those big blue eyes of hers.

"I think it's a bit of both," said Amelie. "Easy to influence, you know."

"Jeez, that's kind of messed up. I can't even decide what's worse; the orphans bein-"

BONG! BONG!

The southern bell had started ringing. Taryn's blood ran cold in an instant, her stomach filled with a dread she always thought she'd grown accustomed to.

"They're back."

Taryn uncoiled her arm from Amelie's loosened grip and ran towards the main road, the straight road that led from gate to gate. She was already winded by the time she made it to the road. Her nerves making things worse.

Every time.

Every time, Taryn was the one searching for Christoph whenever the Survey Corps returned from their ventures outside the Wall. The emotions she went through, trying to find him when she happened to be out when they returned, terrified that this would finally be the day. Or waiting anxiously in the bakery, hoping no one in uniform stopped by asking to speak with the entire family.

And when it never happened, relief soon gave way to rage. Each time the Survey Corps went on their expeditions outside the Wall, Taryn was never sure if Bethan was going to go away again. But she knew she would if and when they got the news that Christoph had died out there. There was no telling how Garit would react to the news, but Taryn knew. She knew everyone would expect her to be the one to take care of her parents, to keep the family together when the day finally came.

There were times when Taryn truly hated her brother for doing what he did. The aftermath wasn't fair to her; it wasn't fair to everyone he left behind.

A crowd had gathered on either side of the road, watching the Survey Corps make their way back by the time Taryn had caught up. Men and women dressed in the same uniform shared with the Wall's three military branches, visually separated only by the emblems on the shoulders and back of the jackets. For the Survey Corps, their emblem was a pair of wings, one blue and the other white.

The men and women of the Survey Corps looked downright broken, both physically and mentally. Arms in slings heads branded with red splotches where they were bleeding. And then, Taryn began to see the soldiers who were missing a leg, or an arm, ones who had gone so still it was impossible to tell if they had passed away or not.

"Shit…" Taryn turned her head to find Amelie at her side with a hand to her mouth. She hadn't noticed that Amelie caught up to her. "There's barely a quarter than what they left with this morning…"

'No, no, no…'

Taryn pushed her way against the crowd, trying to be civil to the people around her as she pushed through. Apologizes and 'excuse me's' were uttered as Taryn kept her eyes on the Survey Corps, scanning them for Christoph's face. She heard a woman asking for her son towards the front of the line. A few moments later, she could hear the same woman's anguished cries.

The sound prompted Taryn to move faster.

She went down the road until the line ended. Then she had to double back, scanning for the bastard. Taryn didn't have to be the one to tell her parents. Not that the alternative was any better, but Taryn shouldn't have to be the one to tell them.

Her eyes were so close to watering. If she couldn't find him, didn't necessarily mean…

It was Konrad, she found first. Konrad Berge, a young man Christoph befriended back in their trainee days. Someone that Garit and Bethan more or less took under their wing whenever the two had time off. Black hair and big, boyish brown eyes, if there was one thing Taryn could count on, it was that where there was Konrad, Christoph should be close by.

And he was.

Christoph and Konrad were both on horseback toward the back of the line; young men in their mid-twenties. The blond of Christoph's hair looked particularly bright in the afternoon sun. His glasses were replaced with a pair of goggles with the necessary lenses fitted in.

'That fucking bastard!' Taryn thought through gritted teeth. It was astounding how quickly Taryn could go from being scared out of her mind to wishing she could just march up to Christoph and strangle him.

She leaned against the wall of the nearest building, releasing the heaviest sigh she could manage. Relief and rage warred against each other with her. The duality she wrestled with for years now. The past decade or so molded Taryn into a spiteful young woman. The upheaval that came in Christoph's wake when he told their parents he wanted to join the Survey Corps, how Bethan would spend days there, but not thereafter he left home. How she'd spend days holding her breath and walking on eggshells whenever the Survey Corps went outside the Wal, how afraid she was that Bethan would go away again whenever Christoph visited home.

Over time, Taryn tended her anger like a gardener tended flowers. She planted resentment so well that the roots went deep into the earth. And she let them flourish. One of these days, Christoph's luck was going to run out. And Taryn would be the one to pick up the pieces, no matter how she felt about it.

"You found him?" she heard Amelie ask. She'd finally caught up with Taryn, or perhaps she was always there and Taryn only just realized it.

"...Yeah…"

A hand fluttered over Amelie's chest as she sighed in relief. "Thank goodness."

'Easy for you to say,' Taryn wanted to bite back. But she held her tongue.

"Come on." Amelie placed a hand on Taryn's shoulder. "You definitely need a drink after that."

"Are you kidding?" Taryn pushed off the wall and stretched her arms over her head. "I could drink the whole tavern dry.

"Which means there's plenty of time to tell you what's been going on!"

"Wait, that wimp?!" Taryn demanded over the chatter of the tavern. "And Talia?!"

"Yup. I mean, Talia did grow up to be a pretty thing, so… Braum's probably happy about that." Amelie took another swig from her tankard.

"Braum's getting married…" Those three words refused to make sense in her head. To her, Braum was still a snot-nosed schoolyard bully who turned cowardly as soon as a girl kicked his ass in a fight.

It was Taryn.

Taryn kicked his ass.

As a result, Braum's favorite victim, Horst, was never bothered so long as he stayed in Taryn's company. She never did ask Horst if Braum's bullying was why he took an apprenticeship on a farm in Wall Rose or if that was just how things turned out. Last she heard, he was doing alright, even engaged to one of the stable hands at the farm.

Being reminded of Braum and Horst, Taryn instinctively ran a thumb over the scar on her left hand where Mr. Schulte had struck her. An angled line, just under the base of her fingers, slightly puckered, but flesh-colored. It looked better now, years after the fact, and easy to miss unless you were looking for it. When she went back to school with her hand thickly bandaged, Horst, not only apologized daily but offered to do most physical labor for her until her hand healed. To this day, Taryn wasn't sure if it was out of guilt or gratitude. Maybe a little bit of both.

"Didn't Horst end up marrying one of the stable hands at the farm he works at?" she asked.

"Yeah. Most people our age are getting married now," Amelie pointed out. "And having babies! Last I heard, Laira and her husband are working on baby number two. Elias and Wynda haven't even gotten to baby number one yet! It's crazy, right? Like, when did this start happening?' Even Lewyn's getting married in a few weeks."

Taryn tried to hide her face behind her tankard. Lewyn had been Taryn's lover of sorts for a good three years on and off. They were in a similar boat, the younger sibling of a member of the Survey Corps, the ones expected to keep things afloat when the news finally came. However, Fore Lewyn's family, the news came about nine months ago. Taryn went to visit him when she found out Lewyn's brother had died. And she held him while he finally let everything out after being the strong one for his parents.

The stolen hours of tumbling in his family store shed came to an abrupt halt not long after. Lewyn wanted to focus on something serious, and Taryn wasn't looking for serious yet. After he told her he paused as though waiting for her to disagree, to suggest there was something more to this relationship than just casual sex.

Taryn was sure that she liked Lewyn well enough, but she was never in love with him. She never felt anything beyond comradery, beyond friendship. There was none of what her books described when she was around him; none of the 'can't-eat-can't-sleep-reach-for-the-stars-over-the-moon' kind of feeling.

No. They were friends, at best, when you took away the casual sex.

So, Taryn wished him luck and told him he wouldn't have to worry about her storming into the chapel on his wedding day. She meant that last bit as a joke, though it wasn't until she went to bed that night that Taryn realized how it could have been misconstrued.

Oh, sure, there were moments when Taryn wondered what could have happened if she lied and asked him to consider her as a wife. But those what-ifs never kept Taryn up at night. Just a mere fantasy of a road never taken. At worst, Taryn was just annoyed that she was stuck relieving stress by herself now.

In an attempt to change the topic, Taryn stretched her arms over her head. "Damn, when was the last time I went out? The days kind of just spill into each other."

"Have your parents considered hiring an apprentice?"

"I'm sure they talked about it at one point or another." As Taryn spoke Amelie waved over a barmaid and ordered another round of drinks. "Might have just put it off thinking Christoph wouldn't be able to get through training."

"Maybe it's a financial thing?"

"I don't think so, but… I would think we could afford it. I'm sure Mom wants to prove we don't need an extra set of hands. That woman sometimes."

She spotted Amelie's face shift into a knowing look. Eye-half hooded, a smirk upon her lips; there was a mischievous gleam in her eyes that told Taryn she had a comment that was going unspoken. "What?"

"Oh, nothing." The barmaid returned with two fresh tankards. She took a swing from her's before she continued, "Just remembering the time you tried to resist getting those hair ribbons that were popular amongst the girls when we were in fifth class. Something about being too mature for them."

A deep red blush formed on Taryn's cheeks as she took another swig from her tankard. Back then she did eventually cave and bought a few of those cute hair ribbon's made from a soft, plushy fabric. She said a lot of dumb things during her pubescent years…

A sudden round of cheering caused Taryn to whip around. A group roughly within Taryn and Amelie's age group, in their twenties, were in a corner of the tavern, arm wrestling. From the looks of it, a match had just finished. She recognized Karl, a former schoolmate, amongst the gaggle. When their eyes met, Karl started to hail Taryn down. "Hey, Taryn! C'mon, you get in the next round."

"Tar-yn, Tar-yn!" chanted Amelie.

"Fine," Taryn said, mocking irritation. Standing up, she took another swig from her tankard.

She approached the table with a mild round of applause. Then took a seat across from a young man she'd seen around town and in the bakery a few times, but she didn't quite know their name. Magnus? Leander? Thomas, maybe…?

"Try not to cry when I beat you," Magnus-Leander-Thomas said, his arm ready at the table.

"Try not to call foul when I beat you." Taryn rolled her right sleeve up past her elbow.

"Ha!" cackled a woman at Magnus-Leander-Thomas's side. "She's got you figured out already."

Taryn clasped hands with her opponent, waiting for Karl to give them to okay to start. On 'go', Taryn and Magnus-Leander-Thomas went at it. The plus side of working in the bakery is that lifting all those sacks of flour and sugar, the crates of milk, and arms full of logs built up Taryn's strength. She had a few arm wrestling matches under her belt.

They pushed and pulled at each other while the surrounding crowd cheered over themselves; the cheers growing in intensity whenever one or the other was gaining the upper hand. Taryn eventually moved her free hand behind her back for fear of using it illegally. Her brow furrowed as she pushed Magnus-Leander-Thomas's hand up and around to Taryn's side of the table.

Then she got the back of his hand onto the table.

More cheers broke out as Taryn stood up, pumping her arms. The woman at Magnus-Leander-Thomas's side wrapped her arms around his head. The both of them were laughing. "Told you I didn't let you win," Magnus-Leander-Thomas said to the woman.

By the time Amelie and Taryn left the tavern, the sky had gone from clear blue to warm yellows, oranges, and reds. It would be wiser to head home before it got too dark, easier to navigate, and less chance of running into a drunkard who couldn't understand that no meant no.

"We've got to meet up sooner next time." Amelie's face brightened. "I don't think you've met-"

CRACK!

It was like a storm when it was right over the district, loud enough that a ringing echoed in Taryn's ears, and so bright her vision nearly went white. It was like a storm was directly over the district, but there wasn't a storm cloud in the sky. The ground quaked, causing Taryn to lose balance. She caught herself, her hands braced against the cobblestone road. Around her, people shrieked in surprise, Amelie being amongst them.

As quickly as the tremor came, it stopped. "The hell?!" Taryn breathed out.

"What was that?" Amelie asked, her fingers in her ear as though it would stop the ringing she heard.

"I don't know…"

Taryn should have noticed how deathly silent it had gotten. It was one of the busiest parts of town. Dead silence was not normal. She should have noticed the dread that hung in the air, then maybe she wouldn't have been so blindsided. But Taryn hadn't noticed anything until she stood back up. It was only then that she noticed everyone staring at the Southern gate, the one that led outside the Wall.

She followed the crowd's gaze to the south gate to find a cloud of - Smoke? Steam? - rising from behind the Wall. Thick and billowing into the sky, Taryn could have sworn that the air had grown warmer. Through the steam, a giant hand slammed over the edge of the Wall. The hand was massive enough that it could have squashed the people staring as though they were nothing but bugs.

A new terror crept its way through Taryn. It was an ice-cold feeling, and it was hollow, and at that moment it was infinite. At that moment, it seemed impossible for life to ever be the same, that Taryn would ever be the same.

Her breathing had grown shallow under this new sense of terror. The Wall was fifty meters high! There shouldn't be anything tall enough to reach the top like that!

She was dreaming.

She had to be.

This was nothing but a nightmare.

Taryn was going to wake up any moment now, safe in her bed.

Right?

Through the cloud behind the Wall, a head came into view, peering down over the edge. It looked as though someone had flayed it off its skin, revealing the muscle tissue underneath. Without skin, or even lips, its long row of teeth made it look like it had a perpetual grin.

It was a Titan…

A Titan taller than the Wall…

Everyone from the wealthiest noble to the poorest soul in the Underground knew the stories.

About how the Titans, humanoid giants, appeared one day, with a taste for nothing but human flesh. The Titans nearly drove humanity to the brink of extinction, were it not for the three Walls, Wall Maria, Wall Rose, and Wall Sheena, protecting the remains of humanity for the last hundred years. The Walls, fifty meters tall, were supposed to be taller than any known Titan, so humanity could live their lives safely within.

Today, the only people who left the safety of the Walls were the Survey Corps in their attempt to discover the origin of the Titans and reclaim what they stole from humanity. More often than naught, however, their efforts proved fruitless. As a result, the Survey Corps remained the deadliest branch of the Wall's military. It was why Bethan went away when Christoph joined them. She knew it was a matter of time before they ate him.

Taryn confronted the notion of the Titans the same way she confronted the notion of death. She shoved the ideas out of her thoughts for as long as she could. They were a fact of life, but that didn't mean they needed to control her every waking thought. Not until she was awake in the middle of the night with her thoughts turning existential.

It was all Taryn could do to keep herself going each day. Less the weight of it all crushed her shoulders and overwhelmed her so much that the only place she felt safe was under her bedcovers.

But warm blankets and a mattress were not going to stop death when the hour came. And they certainly were not going to stop the Titans from devouring her.

Staring at the Titan, tall enough to look clear over the Wall, Taryn's thoughts were flooded with images of the Titan reaching down and scooping people by the handful before dropping them into its maw like a handful of sunflower seeds. She waited for it; she half-expected it…

That was not what happened.

Taryn had only just heard the shrill moans of splintering metal and the tumble of stone before she felt a sudden gust of wind, strong enough that it threatened to carry her away. She planted her feet firmly on the ground and used her arms to shield her eyes. Taryn heard Amelie cry out as it blew her off her feet; the girl landed on her rump, one arm shielding her eyes as the draft continued to rage on.

Gigantic shadows of stones hurtling overhead caught Taryn's attention first. Then came the sound of splintering wood as the stones made their landing some odd miles behind her. Another crash and then another, with high-pitched panic screaming. Debris had been launched into the air, and then crashed into homes and the streets.

When the draft finally wore down, there was an agonizing moment of silence.

Lowering her arms, Taryn could see the hole that had been smashed into the southern gate. The metal door with the emblem of Maria had been completely obliterated. Bits of metal and stone littered the immediate area; by the time the dust began to settle, it would have been difficult to tell if the gate had ever been there, or if it was just more Wall.

In place of the gate was a gaping hole in the Wall, exposing the land beyond the gate for all of them to see. And more importantly, exposing the district to the Titans humping the Wall outside.

Taryn became aware of the tremble in her arms first. And then her breath, before she finally realized how cold she felt from the inside out. Her gaze locked upon the hole, on the large, dark shadows she could barely make out as they hobbled their way inside.

"Oh, God…"

The massive Titan must have kicked a hole into the Wall.

And the Titans were free to enter the district.

Authors Note: The song Taryn's dad sings is 'Wishing Well' by The Oh Hellos.