bertall | Iɴʙᴏx ✉ Vɪᴄᴛᴏʀʏ Rᴏᴀᴅ

[The owners of the hotel they are staying at in Blackthorn really have gone all out for this Christmas season. There aren't any trees in their rooms, sure, but there is a gigantic one in the sitting area off the lobby, the same place where a giant fire is constantly roaring in the hearth, ready to warm anyone coming in from the outside.

It's where Armin has been hanging around, waiting for the others. He had already given Jean his gifts when he had noticed the tree had a few packages underneath it with familiar names. Honestly, at first he had assumed it had been from Shiro perhaps, but that assumption had quickly been proven wrong once he had unwrapped the one with his name on it. Shiro-- Shiro couldn't have done this. Nobody could've done this.

Which is how Bert might find Armin, still on his knees by the Christmas tree, wearing a nice warm Christmas sweater and staring at something laying on his lap like he can't believe it is there. There are also two other gifts laying next to him, neatly packaged and perhaps ready to be opened by a certain tall friend.]

_{[Were it up to Bertolt, he'd have never left the little spa wing of the hotel. It wasn't as fancy as the proper spa in the city, but by the gods it was perfect for what it was. The only reason he was out in the lobby now was a small group of people had booked the better part of the afternoon so his next 'visit' would have to wait until later in the day. Or the next morning.

Maybe morning if only to work out the kinks that were sure to develop in his neck and back in the middle of the night.

Pulling the little fleece blanket from his room around his shoulders a little tighter, Bertolt ducks and weaves his way through the incoming ski crowd and slumps into one of the cozy chairs near the tree and glances over in Armin's direction with a curious look. That, uh... Gee, you okay, buddy?]}

...What's wrong?

[Armin jolts a little at the sudden sound of Bertolt's voice, his arms immediately going up to cover the book and clutch it to his chest, as if he is afraid of losing it again.

But there is no one here to take it from him. Just Bertolt, and Bertolt wouldn't do that sort of thing.

His shoulders slump a little again as he relaxes.]

Sorry, it's--. I'm all right. There was just something... I wasn't expecting underneath the tree.

It wasn't my Joltik, was it? He keeps breaking out of his ball and going off on his own here.

_{[He already caught him near the top of it once and had to ask for help to get him down. Bertolt suspects it has something to do with the number of lights on the tree and all of the power running to them.]}

[Armin shakes his head a bit.]

No, it wasn't one of the pokemon.

[He chews his lip for a moment.]

It was-- there was this present with my name on it. I'm not sure who gave it to me. It should've been impossible for anyone to give this to me. It was... something which I lost a long time ago. Back home, I mean.

I'm sorry, I'm probably not making much sense.

_{[Shit. So he's still running around the hotel somewhere. He may or may not have to sic Brutus on him later if he doesn't come back on his own.]}

...Was it when Shiganshina fell?

_{[He still hasn't been able to shake the image of looking at himself peering over the wall from that... nightmarish week they had to deal with. It had been--

Sometimes Bertolt wishes he could erase it from his memory. Looking down at everyone had been one thing, but to feel like he was down there with all of those people was... Not the best.]}

What is it?

[Armin's jaw tightens and tics for a moment before he nods. His throat feels tight but there is no harm in telling Bertolt this. Not there.]

Yes. We had to run so there was no time to go back for this.

[He shifts slightly, uncurling his arms so Bertolt can see the book he was clutching to his chest.]

It's... a book. One of my grandfather's books. It's about the outside world.

[Heritical forbidden knowledge.]

_{[Bertolt studies him for a few moments, then tightens the blanket again just long enough to slide himself down to the floor and drag himself closer to the tree and Armin.]}

Could I...?

_{[He'd be careful with it, of course.]}

Of course.

[And yet, for how easy it had always been to share the book with Eren and Mikasa when he had been a kid, how difficult it was now to hand it over to Bert. Not that he thinks Bertolt would damage it or be disrespectful of it, it's just... been so long since he has been able to hold it.

He manages though, his fingers a little stiff as he hands the book over to Bertolt.

The golden lettering and illustrations on the brown cover are faded, and the back of the book has hints of damage -- the sort that comes from being toted around by young kids who aren't always very careful. When he opens it, Bertolt might notice the named 'Amadeus' penned inside of the cover, and then it is just pages and pages of flora and fauna. Nothing about Marley or any of the other countries out there. Not even the smallest mention of people, really. It's just all about natural phenomena.]

_{[It's old - he can smell it when he carefully opens it to a random page and Bertolt's brows furrow a little. If it's from outside the walls... Did it come from Marley? Or some other part of the world before all of that...? He can't find a publisher or anything of the like on any of the pages either which makes his brows furrow even more.

Maybe it was torn out, too. This had belonged to his grandfather, but what about the person before him? Or maybe... Gods, there were so many unanswered questions about this already.

Fortunately he can't find anything that would raise too many eyebrows though. Oceans certainly existed back home and poor Bertolt's stomach churns a little at the thought of that boat. Deserts... He doesn't like to think about that trek after getting off of the boat either. It's not that it was a bad trip, but the sand. Gods, the sand.]}

...Do you know where he got it from?

No.

[Armin shakes his head a bit.]

He's never told me. Nearest he ever said is that he always had it. It might have been something he got from my great-grandfather, but I don't really know more than that. It's not as if we could really speak openly about something like this.

[It's very well possible that this book is something someone smuggled long when King Fritz brought his subjects to Paradise and created the walls. It is certainly old enough for that.]

Iɴʙᴏx ✉ Vɪᴄᴛᴏʀʏ Rᴏᴀᴅ

CHRISTMAS

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