25; WITH EVERY SCAR THERE'S A STORY (season nine, episode fourteen)
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THEN.
Before the world fell, there was an entire congregation of people desperate to rule their respective communities. They wanted to lead, accept the responsibility of a nation.
Freya couldn't quite understand why.
Sitting at a dust-covered table with a crumpled old charter rolled across it and a one-eyed priest on a chair adjacent to hers, she found herself regretting ever accepting the torch of leadership. There was just so much to do, and more piled on with each passing day.
There was no need to worry about death by Walkers or madmen anymore; asphyxiation via an abundance of paperwork would be her way out.
"I can't stress enough how important it is for you to reconsider," Gabriel said, stabbing his finger into the charter that was bare of signatures. "We need unification, now more than ever and if your father were here. . ."
A death stare from Freya had his words trailing off into an incoherent mumble.
Freya rolled her shoulders back. "I'm not coming together with Oceanside after what they did to Trudi."
"This outweighs any vendetta that-"
"I said no, Gabriel. Take it away."
It was unfair to be so harsh with him, on some level, Freya knew that, but being in the church always set her on edge. It had been rebuilt stronger than it ever was, but no amount of fresh wood could exorcise the place.
In the shadowy corners, the ghost of Freya's eighteen-year-old self lurked. She was never discernible to the eye but she was felt by everyone who stepped foot inside the building. A prickle on the neck, a shiver down the spine. . . She was there and she was acrimonious, craving the peace that nobody could ever grant her - a reunion with the boy she'd killed.
Outside, the grating screech of metal meeting asphalt came, signifying that the hunting party had returned from their trip.
Freya stood up and pushed her chair in, elbow brushing against Gabriel's as she passed him. He would've been a better leader than her, it wasn't a fact she was scared to acknowledge, but nobody looked to him after the bridge.
They all looked at her with expectant stares that made her deflate like a balloon - What if she couldn't deliver? What if she tarnished her legacy? What if she got these people killed?
