Reiner Braun's Estranged Wife

She brings him what small amount of food she can afford to buy those days. It usually lasts another day or two before he’s hungry again, even if he only eats once a day.

He’s hungry again. He sees her in one of the building windows every so often, smiling like she doesn’t usually smile otherwise. Dressed up—dressed down depending on how you look at it.

She told him not to follow her when she goes back to working. Levi’s not stupid. There aren’t many professions here in the underground, not for women, and he goes wandering sometimes, hears older men talking about certain buildings decorated like the one his mom goes to work in.

He wishes she did something else. Convinced a baker to hire her for work. They could have more food that way, couldn’t they? And he could see her more often. Other kids see their mothers more often than he does and he doesn't understand why that’s fair.

When he gets older he’ll find work and help her not have to do what he shouldn’t have to know she’s doing.

He’s so hungry.

“Hey.”

Levi lethargically lifts his head to the voice, blinking at the girl that sits on the ground next to him, and he’s about to ask what she wants because he doesn’t have anything and he knows better than to share even if he did.

Before he can, she smiles and holds out a small loaf of bread to him. “Here.”

It’s tiny, hardly enough to be called a whole loaf of bread—but it’s bread, and he’s hungry, and he doesn’t get why a girl looking not much better than he does in the health department is smiling at him holding out something worth as damn much as gold in the underground and especially in this section but he’s hungry and the longer he looks between it and her she wiggles it pointedly.

Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

Trying (probably failing) not to seem desperate, he takes the bread from her and takes too big a bite from it. Takes two more. He can’t help being suspicious of someone giving a stranger food they should by all accounts be saving for themselves.

“What do you want?” he flatly asks, mouth full of bread.

“Nothing. Just wanted to share,” she replies, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. “My name’s Caitríona. Everyone calls me Cat ‘cause it’s too long. What’s yours?”

The response makes him even more suspicious. As he takes another bite he looks her up and down; probably not a whole lot younger than him, with red hair and pale skin, freckles dusted across her nose, and she only looks slightly less thin than he knows he does. “Levi. Why?”

She shrugs, her big, bright gray eyes earnest and unbothered. “Felt like it. Wanna be friends?”

“No.” He doesn’t trust her. No one in this district just gives away food. Anticipating an attempt to grab the bread back he leans away and takes another (very big) bite.

The response only makes her sigh. Her shoulders droop and she curls in on herself tighter, resting her head on her knees. “No one does. Not the other kids in the brothel either. Elsa even made me trip and break a bottle of wine the other day. Miss Ygritte was so mad.”

Levi keeps eating and doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t care. The bread’s a bribe and he’s not giving it back.

“That was Elsa’s ration for the week.”

He stops chewing and looks at her again, blinking; a mischievous smile replaces the sad frown on her face. He blinks again. He glances at the bread. He finishes chewing, swallows, and then— “there are other kids in there?”

“Mhm.” She nods, smile softening again. “Their moms work there. Mine too. Elsa’s mom is Miss Leanne. My mom’s name is Mira. Devon’s mom is—”

He doesn’t care about the other kids. “You guys...work there?”

“We run laundry and help cook and clean and bring food. Miss Ygritte won’t let me bring food anymore.”

Maybe that’s why his mom doesn’t want him following her to work. “Because you broke a wine bottle?”

“No!” she huffs, lifting her head and pouting. “I didn’t break it! Elsa made me trip and it fell. She and Devon were laughing about it after. I don’t like them.”

He doesn’t care about the other kids, but he decides he doesn’t like them either. “Why don’t they want to be friends with you?” She’s nicer than he ever wants to be. She won’t stay alive here if she doesn’t stop being so nice. He’s only nine, but he knows that much. He isn’t stupid. He thinks she might be a little bit stupid.

“I dunno. The older girls keep saying I’m gonna be really pretty when I grow up. I think maybe they’re jealous, but I don’t want them to be. I wanna have friends.” Her voice lowers to a sad murmur by the end.

He frowns. Deeply. She’s very stupid. Everyone only looks out for themselves down here. Sometimes family looks out for family, but he once heard someone mention a relative died for hiding food from the rest. He isn’t stupid. He didn’t have to think too hard to figure it out.

He returns his attention to eating and avoids looking at the stupid, sad look on her face. “My mom works here, too. Her name’s Kuchel.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh! I know her. She’s really nice.”

He loves his mother, but he’s pretty sure that makes her stupid, too. Thinking so makes him feel awful. Nose wrinkling, Levi stares at the bread in his hand, glances at Cat, lets out a hard breath—then holds the bread out for her. There’s less than a third of it left.

He thinks his mother would be upset with him for being selfish. He’s so hungry.

With a blink and hesitant hand she reaches for it and he irritably ignores the confused look he only kind of sees from the side. Her fingers brush his as she takes the remainder from him.

“I don’t work like you do,” he grouses. Even most of the loaf of bread feels like he ate too much. He hadn’t noticed until it left his hand. “You probably need it more than me.”

“But…”

He scowls. “Don’t be so stupid, just take it.”

“I’m not stupid,” she mutters, sitting back, and he thinks he catches sight of watery eyes before she rubs them and takes a bite of the bread.

Crybaby. “You’re definitely stupid.”

“At least I’m not mean like you.”

“It makes me smarter than you.”

“I’d rather be nice than smart, then.”

Unbelievable. Levi decides, like he decided he doesn’t like the other kids in the brothel, that he doesn’t like her, and he’s going home. Pretending he isn’t as shaky as he really is, he stands and starts to walk away.

“Wait!” she calls, and against his better judgement he stops. “Are...will you come back again?”

He doesn’t look back. After a pause he keeps walking. “Maybe.”

Trying to convince himself it’s only the prospect of more food that brings him back to the same spot three days later is a bare thread that he clings to for dear life. He’s so hungry and she shared food with him that any sane person in his district would have kept for themselves and he’s hungry and maybe she’ll have food again.

Because she’s stupid enough to give away food, and he isn’t stupid so he’s not passing up the chance to eat.

He still hesitates around the corner to the spot just down the street where they sat together. If she isn’t there it means he wasted the energy to come here. If she is here he has to reconcile desperation with pride. He doesn’t have a lot of pride. He’s too skinny for it. Because he’s always been so hungry.

Peeking around the corner reveals a softly smiling, red-headed girl sitting on a stone fence near that spot. She’s kicking her feet idly and if he listens carefully he thinks she might be humming.

When he finally steps around the corner to warily approach, her face lights up and she waves. “Hi!”

“Why are you always so happy?” he asks. As with trying to convince himself he’s only here for the food, it’s difficult to hop up onto the fence next to her.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she asks in turn, reaching into a bag slung over her shoulder and retrieving another loaf of bread. Her smile flickers unhappily as she carefully tears it in two and, without prompting, offers it to him. “I couldn’t steal Elsa’s again, so I just brought mine.”

Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, he firmly thinks to himself again—but his grasping fingers freeze at her statement. He already assumed last time she’d nicked a full loaf because, again, no one is stupid enough to just give away a portion of their own let alone all of one.

Apparently, she’s more stupid than he thought.

But he can’t get his hand to move to take what she’s offering anyway, because he’s hungry, and being hungry sucks, and he doesn’t wish being hungry on anyone.

“Again?” she huffs, cheeks puffed out with the bite she already took of her half. She wiggles the bread pointedly once more. “I didn’t poison it or anything.”

He stumbles around words like a foal on new legs. “But this is yours.”

“So was the last. C’mon! It’s better to share than both of us go hungry, right?”

...maybe she isn’t that stupid. It’s smarter than refusing food entirely because of some ridiculous, unwelcome sense of honor. It’s all for one down here and now he’s being stupid instead of her. 

Frowning, he takes it from her and tentatively bites into it. They eat in semi-comfortable silence (with most of the comfort being on her end) for a few minutes before he manages to unstick his foot from his mouth. “I don’t get it,” he says, swallowing. “No one down here shares food. You don’t know me. Why share?”

“‘Cause I feel like it,” she says.

“Because you want to get someone to be your friend,” he counters.

Her nose wrinkles. “You already said you don’t wanna be. I wanna be nice. Elsa and Devon aren’t nice and I don’t wanna be like them.”

She’s so dumb. Eating is more important than being nice. He knows that for sure now since he feels a bit better after eating more often than he usually does. Maybe she shares because she sneaks bites from running food in the brothel like she said they do.

Out of the corner of his eye he quietly observes her as they eat their halves of bread.

Right before he takes his last bite he notices something barely peeking out under her hairline; he pauses and turns to look at it properly. “What’s that?”

“What’s what?” she asks, blinking at him and then looking up. Assuming he’s looking at something behind her she turns, finds him still looking at her when she straightens, frowns, then lets out a soft oh and lifts a hand to touch the dark bruise he spotted. “It’s nothing. Elsa got mad at me yesterday. She hit me with a tray.”

“Why?”

“You ask ‘why’ a lot.”

“Why’d she hit you?” he asks impatiently.

Instead of answering right away Cat eats the last bit of her bread and places her hands on the stone fence and returns to kicking her legs idly. “I think she saw me take her ration the other night. But it’s okay, she has to clean instead of me tonight ‘cause of it.”

The answer makes him angry. “Did you hit her back?”

“I didn’t get my ration tonight ‘cause I bit her for hitting me,” she answers. “This was last night’s. Sorry it’s not fresh.”

Levi blinks incredulously at the bite of bread he has left. She didn’t eat yesterday because she saved her food to share with him? And she’s apologizing because it isn’t as fresh? He’s angrier, now. “And she didn’t get a ration either, right?”

“Miss Ygritte said she wouldn’t.” Cat stares at the pavement under her hovering feet. “Miss Ygritte didn’t give her one, but I saw Miss Leanne giving her two when I left to come here.”

“Did you say something?”

She shakes her head. “Miss Ygritte told us to keep quiet and work when guests are there and we wouldn’t get rations for a whole week if we caused trouble again. Elsa would hit me again if I did. She said she would.”

He wonders what she’d do if he walked in there and hit her instead. The only reason he doesn’t and, unhappily, won’t is because he doesn’t want to make his mom upset. He really doesn’t like the other kids in the brothel.

Once he finishes his half of the bread he gives her a hard look. “You’re stupid.”

She pouts at him. “I told you I’m not!”

“Then why don’t you just get better at taking her stuff?” He’s never stolen something before, but it can’t be that difficult, can it? She did manage to take off with Elsa’s ration, she just got caught doing it.

“I don’t wanna get in trouble.”

“She deserves it.”

“You’re still mean.”

“Do you think she’s gonna be your friend if you keep trying to be nice?” he asks, staring at her until she looks away without answering. “No one here wants friends. Maybe in other districts, but not here. Will you stop being stupid if I be your friend?”

“But you said—”

He lightly punches her on the arm (he means for it to be harder), interrupting her exasperated protest and bringing her attention back to him and his firm stare. Her eyes are watering again. Crybaby. “Forget what I said. Maybe everyone else is being more stupid not having friends. We’ll be the first in this district to not be as stupid as them.”

After a brief pause a wide smile appears on her face. “We’re friends now?”

His face heats. “Yeah, we’re friends now. I guess.”