𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐲 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 | 𝐄𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫

V

If Eren had a coin for every snowball that hit him after that twenty-minute walk to a massive farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, he could pay for ten pairs of regular shoes. Maybe twenty.

You drill him with five on the path there–your cutesy giggles blowing the cold air off his skin with each toss. Eren wants to throw a few back at you, but his hands are full with Niccolo's embarrassing offering. Now that he thinks about it, Eren is sure you made him hold the box on purpose so you could screw with him. But the children that pour from that massive farmhouse really let him have it. There must be a dozen little goblins, all pelting Eren with hundreds of snowballs. He has to fight to keep the box of sweets dry and warm, but you join in on their fun, too. When the onslaught of snow canons finally ends, you roll snowmen and judge snow angels in the growing white blanket covering all the grasses.

Eren wants to remind you that you must drop off all these sweets he's holding, but he keeps the request to himself. Seeing you laugh hard and smile brightly is worth waiting a few extra minutes. You heat him with foggy breaths and wear down his resolve with your whimsicality under sunset's rainbowed gaze.

Eren realizes he's been watching too long after the fifth time you giggle at his stare and decides to busy himself with other sights. He finds plenty of rope swings dangling from trees, wooden toys dusted with snowfall, and chicken coups and pig pens not far from the massive house.

But what catches Eren's eyes is a little boy staying away from all the fun. He lingers under a tree, far away from everyone. This kid is the strangest of all the strange kids you seemed to know so well—he looks nothing like the others, as his complexion favors late summer more than early spring. Even his clothes are unusual, with his odd red hat and loose-fitting rags.

Perhaps he stayed away because he was the black sheep of the group. Eren could understand that. The poor are black sheep in their own right, and Eren is poorer than anyone–both in coin and luck.

But you stole Eren's attention again. When you appear winded and worn out, you throw yourself onto a heap of snow. Your fall is so unbecoming of a princess. You flop over like a dead body and grunt like a man when you hit the ground, but the children still laugh and rush to you when you lie down.

Even though you look nothing like the princess you should be, your flare for all things theatrical suits the woman that you are.

You yell over the giggling children that start burying you in handfuls of snow, "Eren! You can drop the food off inside, you know! This is Sasha's house, after all!"

All the warmth you share with the world turns cold at your confession. So, these little mice are Sasha's obnoxious children? How could she possibly have so many brats? Was she in her forties? And what the hell would Niccolo want with an old, married woman and a dozen annoying creatures?

"And when were you going to tell me this?!" Eren yells over his shoulder as he starts to walk in the direction of the house, feeling stupid for watching you in the snow for so long.

"When you turned into a walking snowman, but I've taken your place! You can thank me later! Oh, Sasha should be inside somewhere. If you should find Historia or Ymir first, they'll take you to her if you ask very nicely!"

A child takes a handful of snow and drops it onto your face. You shake off the white dust, but it glistens throughout your hair as you laugh at your snow funeral.

Serves you right, Eren thinks, but he can't stop himself from flashing teeth and shaking his head at your childishness. You look beautiful in all white, even if you are maddening at times.

Eren lugs the giant box to the front door and takes in the house the whole way over. It's an enormous place, but what else could he expect with all these runts running around? The home has three levels, all decorated with crawling ivy and pretty white walls. The roof is tiled with the reddest shingles–their hue brighter than anything Mitras' palace offers. But what Eren can't understand is how the building remains standing. There are parts of the upper floors that practically float. They have no support; they precariously hang out from the main structure.