Ymir remembers when she first fell in love with Christa. She tries to brush the thought away but it is persistent and refuses to be ignored. The thought is brought up by Christa's retreating form as she gallops into the fields with her mount, Blackluster (stupid name but the animal came with it and Christa absolutely adores it).

It wasn't something Ymir was completely aware of at first. She had indirectly found Christa and had pushed the younger girl to stop being so timid and afraid. She responded well enough to Ymir's threats and acidic sense of humor.Ymir knew Christa's secret, what she was hiding, but for the sake of entertainment she kept shut. Entertainment and the small budding fact that if Christa was outed, Ymir would be devastated and probably seek vengance on a certain pipsqueak captain that kept getting on her nerves, his fault or not. His narrow eyes seemed to know what she was thinking, even before she thought it and the way he wore a cleaning apron was just too strange and bizarre to tolerate.

To make matters even more complicated, Christa had the balls to join the Survey Corps. At first Ymir was irritated (Christa would be under the pipsqueak captain's command) and the blond girl had no idea who she had to blackmail and push off walls to get her a position in the top 10 so she could join the Military Police. Everything in this town is politically motivated and Ymir abused that, but to no avail. As if trying to atone for her sins and those around her, Christa turned down the opportunity and joined the Survey Corps with that bull-headed Eren Yeager and his loyal band of ignorant followers. If they knew what they were facing, really knew...

Ymir grimaces at the idiocy of the best candidates turning tail from the inside to hack it out beyond the walls. But oh well. They probably will not live past the first hour beyond the saftey of these walls. Her main concern was Christa.

She pauses at that. Did the lithe, younger girl mean that much to her? That she would train every day like hell was on their heels to protect her? Uck, Ymir despised how soft she had become. Stupid emotions. Stupid feelings. What were they anyway? They just make her heart jump around sporadically when Christa is around, a serious illness Ymir thinks. They make her bitter smirk a little less sour and a lot softer. They make her look forward to being alive just to see Christa's eyes light up and her careful smile break through the drab of this life. 

It's stupid.

Ymir roughly jumps off the back of her chestnut colored horse and pulls his bridle to one side. Malton, the chestnut horse, shies away from her touch, too scared to even whinny a frightened snort. He pulls his reins taut trying to distance himself from her and she looks at him contemptuously. This pack animal was beneath her but training required her to be able to use her 3D maneuver gear and manage this mangy beast. 

She hauls Malton none too gently into the opening of the horse penn, soft nickers and heavy breathing coming from the dark entrance. A happy whinny overlaps Malton's sudden panic and valiant chattering of teeth. Ymir knows that sound and looks over a heaving mass of a shoulder to see Christa crest a small hill and urge Blackluster faster. They make their way down the hill at breakneck speeds and another smirk that only Christa can force out appears on her face. A fierce glare that most people would say is her trademark darkens as Ymir thinks of a life without Christa. Her heart gives itself a violent throb and Ymir tries to shake the thoughts off. She pushes Malton into the darkness, obscuring Christa from her hungry gaze.

The smell of horse manure and dank living spaces invades her sinuses and a part of her brain whispers out accusations in the onslaught of noise and smell. You don't deserve Christa...she should be with Bertholdt...you do not own her...she doesn't even need you.

Stupid stupid stupid emotions. There is no reason for Ymir to have this sort of pain. It's irrelevant, useless, has no end. Her feelings for Christa are just that, feelings caused by the kindess of the smaller girl. Feelings brought on by the malevolent seed of friendship. Ymir scoffs at that. More than anyone, Ymir knows of Christa's weaknesses, her fake sincerity and her shallow personality, her true despicable self.

Maybe that's why she loves the blonde girl so much. Despite her superficial perfection, she is far from the sacred picture people have come to adore. Underneath the smiles and kindness is a demon waiting to snap. Ymir relishes the idea of a less-than-perfect human tricking people with her facade, much like herself.

Kindred souls. Drawn to each other not out of necessity but because of similiarites.

Christa is weak and small and cruel in the way that beautiful princesses are. Not entirely her fault but enough blame falls on her plate for her to take the burn. Most of the boys and even some of the girls (Ymir frowns at the thought of Sasha as she tosses some fresh hay into Malton's stall) are head over heels for Christa. It was a natural desire to protect what they perceived as a young and innocent flower. Just like them and also because of them, Ymir wants to protect her. Not acting as some overly huped up knight in shining armor. But as a bad villian in love with the heroine who does anything and everything in his power to protect the one he loves. Just to be there and make sure that nothing ever touches Christa. Even if nothing is forthcoming from her end of the unsolicited bargain. 

Despite joining the military and then forfeiting the MP to join the mortuary-sorry Survey Corpse- oops Survey Corps, Christa's selfish attitude has been conspicuous to Ymir the whole time. It has gotten to the point that even Ymir questions Christa's apologies and happiness in the midst of it all. But Ymir doesn't blame her. If she had been in her shoes---

No, Ymir cannot defend all that Christa has done. There is too much darkness, too much history. But in spite of all that, Ymir's heart still flutters when it hears Christa's light step entering their shared quarters. It still aches when those idiots Bertholdt and Reiner flirt with her and i it rages when pipsqueak captain ridicules her.

Ymir tries to grab at Malton's reins but he whinnies in protest of Ymir's touch and shies away, smacking the wooden slats of a neighboring stall. Ymir mutters a curse and reaches out to grab the reins yet again. She doesn't have Mikasa's abnormal skills with all things she does and she doesn't have Christa's affinity for animal taming. Malton is ticking her off; it's about time to go wash up and hit the dining room and with Sasha and that idiotic Connie in there, the food is sure to disappear fast. 

Malton cries out in fear as Ymir makes another angry grab for his bridle. He lashes out with his forelegs but Ymir quickly sidesteps his cycling limbs and attempts to calm this testy horse down.

"So you know what I am, huh?" she hisses. She noticed the other horses did not react as strongly, not even to that Yeager brat, but it was in their eyes. You just had to look at their horse's eyes and see the unfathomable terror in them paralyzing any sound and survival instinct. This same look plagued several other horses in her squadron, but only Ymir had the roughest riding companion. Looking at the other horse's eyes, that would mean there were more of her kind hiding here...

Malton screeches at Ymir's outstretched hand, sensing the danger and crunches her forearm before pulling to the farthest end of his stall and quivering there in terror, contemplating his most recent act of defense.

Almost in shock, Ymir stares down at her left arm. There is a large half moon shaped bite mark oozing blood from several punctures in the skin. She can't feel her entire hand and a flick of her elbow joint informs her that the bone is definitely crushed. She almost feels admiration for the horse, so defiant in trying to stay alive and back away from a predator.

The blood is hypnotizing and her long years on the road come crashing into her. She stops for a moment. The cut. Her blood. The wounds. Malton tries to shift further away, as if he can sense Ymir's whirling emotions.

A flash of anger sends Malton skittering into the back corner of his stall. Ymir knows it will heal quickly but the mere fact that this lowly animal bit her is infuriating.

"You damnable piece of---"

"Oh Ymir, don't be mean to Malton," Christa chastises upon entering the holding area. She leads Blackluster into his stall across from Ymir and he waves his mane to Christa, asking to be calmed from Ymir's negative mojo ading the small space. In the commotion, Ymir didn't hear the smaller girl's approach.

Ymir's heart picked up speed as soon as Christa spoke and she plasters on a snide smirk to hide the volatile feelings welling up inside. "I am going to discipline this mongrel of a horse," Ymir says quite calmly, her arrogance fueld by her desire to impress Christa. "Look. This beast attacked me for no right reason so I am calling for reparations."

Ymir holds up her hand for Christa to see. It flops a little awkwardly. Christa looks back at it casually and rubs Blackluster down for all of two seconds before her head whips back to Ymir. "Ymir you're bleeding!"

Ymir's mouth opens to deliver an equally obvious statement but she is cut off by Christa's frantic appraisal of the situation. "Oh no! Why are you just standing there? Come here and let me treat it."

Though seriously questioning Christa's ability to treat anything that can't be covered by a band aid, Ymir still staggers forward to obey her. She can't help herself. Her master spoke and she responded with only the slightest bit of hesitation.

God damn it all, she thought. I am so f***ing whipped.

And Christa doesn't even know it.

Christa retrieves a first aid kit from her saddle bags and stares intently at the wound. "Hmm, what can I do..."

Already it was starting to heal and the bones creaked as they threw themselves back into place, trying to keep Ymir alive. The small punctures were getting smaller already but thank every detestable god available because Christa threw a clean bandage over the entire thing and tightened it in the hopes of holding everything together and stopping the bleeding. "Does it hurt you too much, Ymir," she asks worriedly, leading her lanky friend to an upturned bucket for her to sit on. Ymir puts on a bemused expression but can't help the idiotic smile for coming up for air. In an effort to subdue it, she forces to turn down. A malformed grimace escapes. "What d'you think doc? Should we amputate?"

Christa looks up quickly to see how much depth Ymir's words have and notices the pained expression on her face. She bites her lip. Her light fingers dance across her carefully placed bandages and Ymir's burning skin. Ymir feigns another grimace as if it actually hurt as much as it looked.

Of course, even in the world they live in, it wouldn't really be considered worth taking to the infirmary. Compared to what's happened before with heads flying everywhere and limbs sailing over rainbows, this is just a scratch. And hardly that after Ymir's healing finished up its business.

But her face...Christa's angelic face full of worry for her, of all people, fearing for her pain feeling inadequate to help but doing so regardless and possibly causing more damage in the process, is too much. Why should she be so kind to Ymir, when they both knew it was a facade and Ymir had called her out on it multiple times before they joined the Military Training Camp together. There is truly nothing to gain from this, but Christa was doing it anyways.

"Does...Does it really hurt Ymir?" Christa asks. "If you want, we can ask Mikasa to look at it?"

"Leave that pansy out of this," Ymir replies bitterly. Ymir had very low opinions on everyone, but Mikasa just happened to get under her nerves among other things. "If you did this bandaging properly, I'll be ship shape tomorrow."

Christa's nose crinkles but she gives a small smile. "I'm no doctor, but thank you for believing in me."

And just like that, another piece of Ymir's heart is caught in Christa's eyes and her caring words. "You should belive in yourself, idiot," Ymir grunts. Christa's heartbreaking smile, the one full of sadness and hope holds Ymir's gaze. Her eyes twinkle in that way that skies can't ever hope to imitate and she sticks her tongue out in a cute, endearing way.

"Hahahaha now you can just owe me one," Christa jokes but Ymir is cackling already. Just one? No, you have all of me. You have everything of me.

"What shall this demonic princess ask of me in return? My life? My measly wages? Or..." Ymir wiggles her thin eyebrows at her. "My body?" She can't believe she just said that but it's too late to take back and what the hell? They could die any second in this masochistic hell and it won't matter one bit.

Now it's Christa's turn to have pop open. Her next words of consolation are trapped behind rosy cheeks and she sputters to try to cover up her lapse in concentration.

Ymir's broken laugh makes fun of Christa's surprise. Oh well, oh well, it doesn't matter. Just having said it makes Ymir float on Cloud Nine. and her smile is genuine when she says "Then hurry up so we can go to dinner," the words easily coming out to dispell the awkward atmosphere.

But Christa's cheeks are still flaming patches as they walk out of the stalls. "Okay Ymir," Christa mumbles so quietly not even Ymir can hear it.