Chapter Text
Year: 838, September 1st
Tears streamed down from Anya’s closed eyes as she awoke from a deep slumber. She looked up above her bed – gone were the high ceilings of dirt that haunted her dreams, replaced by wooden beams. She felt the warm tears on her face and wiped them from her cheeks. “not again…” she mumbled as she pulled herself out of bed, yawning and stumbling her way to the mirror leaned against the corner of the wall.
Looking herself up and down, she couldn’t help but feel uneasy. She had changed so much in the last 3 years, and her body showed it. She wasn’t ugly by any means, quite the contrary. But going from being stick thin to the size of an average girl her age was still an awkward sight to her. “So this is what 18 looks like. Pft.” She spoke out loud to herself, taking off her nightgown and changing into her usual daily outfit – a plain button-down shirt, black skirt, and boots. She pulled her hip length white hair into a perfectly neat ponytail and wiped the remaining tears from her bright blue eyes.
She made her way to her window, looking up at the bright blue sky above her – a sight she still hadn’t quite gotten accustomed to over the last 3 years. Anya sighed and grabbed her bag from the vanity table, giving herself one more look-over in the mirror. No matter how beautiful the sky was, she’d give anything to go back to those dirt ceilings - just to see him again.
His face graced her dreams so beautifully, so perfectly. Raven locks of hair, stormy grey eyes with that beautiful glint of blue, the smile she so adored. She hated waking up every morning. In her dreams she was happy with him. In her nightmares - the nightmares of the day she was taken away from him so horrendously, he was still there.
How could he not be? They spent nearly every day of 15 years together. Her first memories were with him. Her first everything was with him - they were each other's first friends, first kiss, first relationship. They did everything together - they robbed those merchant bastards together, they’d learned how to fight at each other's side, they survived the underground together.
Well, she had at least. She had no idea where he was now. For three years she hadn’t been able to look into his eyes that she adored so much. She hadn’t seen his smile that made her heart skip a beat. She didn’t know if Furlan was still at his side, or if he was all alone in the world.
And then, she remembered that he abandoned her. He never showed up when he was supposed to. It was simple - show up to the staircase, her mother would buy them both passage and citizenship. But he never showed up. There was no way he never got the letter. At least, that's what she had to wake up and convince herself of to not wallow in the sadness that was so inviting. She’d convince herself until the thoughts crept in that he would never abandon her - and after those thoughts came, she’d wonder what happened to him. Where he was, what he was doing, if he was okay, if he was even alive . Every night she’d cry herself to sleep remembering that he never showed up, and that meant he either abandoned her - or something had happened to him.
She promised herself that as soon as she had the money made on her own terms, that she would go back to that damp, filthy hole in the ground and find him - find both of them, and get them out of there. She’d buy their passage. She’d buy their citizenship. She’d give them the option of staying with her - and if they refused she’d hand him everything else she had willingly. Because he was everything to her. Her love, her best friend, her everything. They’d been through hell together, they’d seen the worst of humanity together. She could never forget him. She could never stop loving him. No amount of time or distance would change how she felt about him.
She sighed as she made her way to her bedroom door, opening it slowly and looking down the hall. She could smell the breakfast her mother was cooking downstairs. The hallway she walked down was adorned with the drawings her younger sister had made - inventions, things she dreamt up in her wonderful little mind. Sarina was only a few years younger than Anya, but she was so talented, and these drawings that littered the walls showed it. Anya opened the door to her room slowly, and instinctively gagged at the smell radiating from the room. The floors were scattered with various art supplies and science projects, the walls had drawings covering them, there were papers everywhere, and dozens of cups with varying degrees of being full.
She looked towards the bed, at the messy brown haired teenager still asleep. “Sarina. Sarina we have to go help mom…” Anya’s normally sweet voice was clearly annoyed. “Sarina…” she poked the drooling girl in the shoulder “SARINA YOU FILTHBAG” Anya raised her voice, but the girl didn’t move except to rollover. “ugh, fine..” Anya made her way to the door, almost tripping over the things that were strewn across the floor ‘one day, I am going to show her how to clean…’ Anya thought to herself as she shut the door behind her, starting to make her way to the kitchen. She ran her fingertips down the old wooden banister as she stepped carefully down the stairs, making her way past a large living area and through a small dining room.
“Anya dear, are you hungry?” Her mother looked at her, smiling as she studied every inch of the girl's face “I’ll make my birthday girl whatever she wants!” her voice was always so warm, Anya thought as she smiled at her mother.
“I guess. I don’t know…” Anya trailed off, looking down at the table. She knew that somehow her mother would figure out that she had been having what she could only describe as nightmares again, however she could never figure out exactly what they were about – She remembered the feeling more than the imagery, a feeling she had felt before. The feeling of being ripped away from everything you’ve ever known, from something – or someone – that you love. She knew he was there. She knew he was that thing she loved, but beyond that - she couldn’t quite piece together exactly why. She knew, it was likely about that day.
With impeccable timing her mother caressed her face, wet and warm from the tears - “Anya, were you crying?” her mother sounded worried “Dear, why were you crying?” she inquired with genuine concern.
“It’s okay mom. I promise” Anya responded almost too quickly, not wanting to tell her mother that she had woken up more times than she could reasonably count the night before.
“Are you having those dreams again? You know you’re not still in that place. You’re safe now. No one can hurt you up here. I would never allow anything to hurt you again…” Her mother leaned over and pulled Anya into a hug, and Anya wrapped her arms around her mother.
“I know mom. I know.” Anya smiled, and did her best to sound as sweet as she could. “Besides, today I’m working with you at the bar. Sarina is still sleeping, so maybe it can just be us today? I’d really like that. I can practice in peace” Anya asked, the excitement nearly pouring out of her voice. She had to find something to be happy about, and for her - it was music.
“Of course, sweetie. Anything for my beautiful girl.” She squeezed harder, nearly suffocating Anya with her uninhibited love for her daughter. But as quickly as Anya’s excitement came, it left with her mother’s next words. “You know, Anya, if we ever find that boy, I promise we’ll take him in too. I promise.” She smiled at Anya, and even though Anya knew she was sincere, she also knew it was impossible.
“I know mom… I know…” Anya looked back down at the table and like a wave, Sadness swept over her and she started crying again. Her mother held her tight and close, wiping away her tears. Anya recounted in her memory the face of the only other person she would let hold her like this, and her crying went from light and silent to loud, ugly, and painful. So loud it woke up her sister Sarina, who came running and stumbling down the stairs.
“Sis! Sis what’s going on?” The messy brunette’s hair was strung across her face as she ran up to Anya and joined the hug. “it’s okay sis, you’re safe now!” and with that, Anya let out a soft whimper into her mother’s shoulder. After a few moments, Anya couldn’t take it anymore. While the hugs were warm and sweet to her ever touch starved heart, she couldn’t stand seeing these people – her family, her saviors – upset over her. Anya gently pushed them back and faked the brightest smile she possibly could.
She was used to wearing this mask. It wasn’t a mask when he was around, but it was a mask to everyone else. A cheery, happy girl. A bright smile. Her blue eyes shining, hiding the pain that she felt coursing through her very veins. A girl who lived a happy life, free from troubles and free from worry.
But it was a mask.
“I’ll be fine” Anya reassured herself, her mother, and her sister while flattening out her shirt and standing up. She looked out the kitchen window, and pointed upwards to the sky “besides, I get to wake up every morning and look at that! You can’t see that from down there you know. I get to breathe fresh air now!”
She feigned joy, and internally praised her own acting. “Ya know, there’s nothing better than fresh air!” she exclaimed proudly. She knew not everyone in this world could breathe fresh air. She knew not everyone could look up and see the sky. She knew these things, because for the first 15 years of her life, she was one of those people. She had people down there, people who she loved , who were still those people. Her cousins and Furlan and… him .
Anya let her mind wander as she gazed out the window for a moment, and thought again of the face that haunted her dreams so beautifully. Picturing his face always had her either on the brink of tears, or immediately brought a smile to her face. This time, she controlled herself and smiled. She imagined that one day, he could come live with her and her little family. That he could escape it all like she did. It was a daydream that taunted Anya. A daydream of flowers, sunsets, and being together while looking up at the stars together like they did every night...
Except from up here, where the stars weren't obstructed by sewer grates and buildings and dirt ceilings - she felt like it was impossible, a dream she could never reach - and maybe that's why people called them dreams. They were impossible.
Dreams don't hurt, but reality does.