Chapter Text
The wind was blowing through the vast stretch of grass, the song of it whistling through the clear air. Thin green strands were swaying along rhythmically, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass from the ground. You inhaled deeply with your eyes closed as you let your body be embraced by the wind.
It was almost as if mother nature knew how desperate you were for a soothing touch, your small body having been deprived of it. The daughter of a long forgotten prostitute, you were shunned by your own community. Cast out by the people who were supposed to take you in, you had been all on your own.
The heaviness in your heart never really left you, the longing for someone to come along and take your hand always lingered in the pit of your stomach.
But you managed to look out for yourself, managed to feed yourself and find a place to sleep at night. It wasn’t always tasty or comfortable, but it got you through another night, got you to see another sunrise. By now you were convinced that you were a punishment from god for your mother’s sin, the scars of being an outcast nestled deep inside your heart.
You opened your eyes again, the enormous tree you were sitting under providing you with protection from the scorching sun. The leaves rustled as the wind danced through you once more while your gaze was fixed on the endless wall in front of you. It rose high into the sky, higher than the trees, higher than the soaring birds, high enough to grasp the clouds.
You wondered what lied beneath.
You turned your head and found yourself smiling when you noticed a little patch of flowers in the distance that was starting to grow and reach for the sun. Hues of violet and yellow littered the grass, surrounded by singing bees buzzing through them.
Spring was coming.
A series of cackles and screams snapped you out of your thoughts. On the other side of the lake ahead of you kids were playing with each other, laughing and screaming and having the time of their lives. Even after all these years, it was unimaginably hard to suppress the urge to run across and join them. You lowered your head to stare at the tiny scars on your arms and legs – a reminder that you were unwanted. That you didn't fit in.
A sigh dragged out of your tiny body and it left you with a heaviness in your stomach that crushed the words begging to be released. Another surge of wind engulfed you and it brought with it a scent so mesmerizing, it dissipated the growing lump within a single moment.
You twisted your head curiously only to find a girl your age standing in front of you. Her tiny hands were balled into determined fists and her blue eyes were glaring right at you. The sun was reflecting on her blonde hair, making her glow beneath its light.
An angel?
“What are you doing here on your own?”
Her voice was light and airy just like that of any other young girl. It was calming to your ears despite her accusing tone, which you found particularly peculiar. You looked at her dumbfounded, surprised that someone was talking to you. It had been years since someone addressed you.
“Why are you always on your own here?”
She released you from her sight and instead focused on the children screeching loudly on the other side before she turned back to you, her thin brows now furrowed.
“Don’t you have any friends?”
Too stunned to answer, you only shook your head as if on autopilot. She was really talking to you. To you . The cursed girl, the girl abandoned by god himself. You weren’t sure if you heard right or if this was a mirage caused by the relentless sun burning down on you.
“Where are your parents?”
Her questions didn’t stop. It was almost as if she wanted to trample away your doubts. You gulped and fiddled with your fingers on your dirty lap. Her icy blue eyes bore right through you, right through your chest until your soul was laid out bare before her.
“I,” you began to mutter, “I don’t have any parents.”
At the sound of your voice, she had to take a second to regain her composure. You were quiet long enough for her to think you wouldn’t respond. Her hands went to her hips as she nodded towards the village.
“Don’t you have any family? Why are you always spending your days under this tree?”
Time stilled as reality finally hit you like a ton of bricks.
This wasn’t the first time she saw you.
“I’m an outcast.” You confessed.
Something happened to her. Her shoulders twitched and she took a step back, her wide eyes frozen as if it was now her who couldn’t believe her ears. She looked at you in a mixture of shock and disbelief.
“An outcast?” She repeated.
Unsure of what exactly riled her so up, you sank into yourself further, your insecurities threatening to swallow you whole. She didn’t know you were an outcast, that was why she spoke to you. Now that she knew, she too would surely regard you with disdain and clamper away at the sight of you.
Your answer came automatically, almost robotically when you said, “I carry my mother’s sin with me wherever I go. In order to repent for her mistakes, I have been cast out, so people don’t follow her path.”
She clicked her tongue while you were still speaking and snapped her head sharply towards the laughing children, her eyes filling with contempt as she whispered, “So even here cruel people like that exist…”
She didn’t say anything else, nor did she regard you with the same animosity from before. Silence stretched through you, the air charged with her anger and your anxiety.
But as much as you feared her turning her back on you, you had to admit, it was nice. It was nice to hear someone’s voice so close to you, to have them look at you, really look at you and validate your existence. Feeling greedy, you found yourself wishing, praying to the same god that condemned you, that this girl wouldn’t leave you.
“Annie.”
You lifted your head when she spoke up again, your brows raised in surprise and your head tilting when the implication of this single word caught up with you.
“Annie Leonhart.”
Speechless, you could do nothing but observe as she sat down beside you. Her back leant on the thick branch next to you and her forearms went up to rest on her bent knees. Annie, it was a pretty name you thought, pressed her head against the trunk and lifted her crystal clear eyes up at the fluttering leafs.
“Your name.”
You only continued to gape at her, your brain completely fried and fizzled out from all that was happening right now. “What?”
“We can’t be friends if I don’t know your name, stupid.”
A tiny smile followed her words and it was enough to knock the air out of your lungs. She smiled. She smiled.
“We can’t be friends if I don’t know your name.”
The back of your eyes stung and you felt a lump rising up your throat.
Friends.
It was a word you never dared to utter. A prayer you never allowed yourself to whisper. The first drop fell on your shaking hand. Your eyes closed when you too smiled at Annie, relief writing itself all over your face. Her eyes softened at the sight of it and she placed her calm and steady hand over yours, the warmth of another human touching you and filling your heart with so much joy.
You revealed your name like you were sharing a forbidden secret with her.
Annie tilted her head kindly to you, her smile encouraging and bright.
She accepted the secret with both of her hands and cradled it preciously against her tiny chest.