Chapter 1, Home

For those new to xReader stories, (Y/n) stands for "your name," which is where you insert your name, and looks, and stuff.

EnjOy.

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It was a nice day. Sun sparkled in through the thick tree leaves that kept the underbrush well protected from the hot sunny day. A soft breeze flew through the trunks, taking some slowly falling leaves with it. It is truly one of the nicest days, just before the Autumn chill starts to set in. But then, a young lady interrupts the quiet winds with her own march through the forest.

The lady's feet and hands are so covered in mud that she wouldn't even be considered a lady by some standards. More like a mud person, with leaves sticking to the legs as if they were glued. The girl's outfit consisted of dark brown trousers which ended just below the knees, as well as a light grey t-shirt. Her hair was a light sun tinted brown with the tips lighter than the sprouts, and it was all a mangled mess. Well, it was manageable. But with her long hair length all the way to the waist and the hair's thickness it would have to be brushed certainly more than once to stay straight. The young lady's mannerisms were tight, strict, on a mission. In her inventory were the uncooked recently killed carcasses of chicken, cows, sheep, and pigs, plenty to feed her and her younger sister for weeks. The girl's hunger bar was pretty low after all the hunting, but it would be worth it.

The young lady's leg brushed up against a thorn as she walked, but she didn't even seem to notice it. Even though the scrape started to bleed. She only frowned when she felt a drop of blood or two trickle down her leg. Just another injury to add to the collection. 'Pain never hurt anyone,' was the young lady's motto she went by. Looking closer at her, it became obvious that this person was surely not the fragile type, if the outfit and mud didn't convince you earlier. She had cuts big and small up and down her body, most of which didn't really have any kind of story to tell. Just there to show how tough both her skin, and skull, had become over the years.

After some time, the young lady came to a village, which she walked around to the other side of. Sure, it was a longer trip, but she wasn't in the mood for socializing. She really only ever talked to her little sister and the Michainan's, the old couple who thought it their duty to show up out of nowhere to endlessly talk about the most boring things ever. Nothing they ever said was even remotely interesting!

Finally the young lady was back home, a small wooden house with two bedrooms, and one living/dining/kitchen room. Both the bedrooms were upstairs so that one multipurpose room took up the entire bottom floor. But it was a happy quaint house which held it's dark secrets better than a best friend.

"(Y/n)! I'm home!!" The young lady called through the front door. There was a rumble from the stairs as a younger girl ran down the steps with excitement. The younger lady looked about eighteen years old and right away didn't look as worked as the older one. She had a much nicer, cleaner outfit on, and her skin was a lot better taken care of. It didn't have all the farmer tans that the older girl had. Her hair was a lot prettier and she actually had makeup on her face.

"What did you get, Lyla?" (Y/n) asked her older sister.

"Oh, just some food. It has to be cooked first though." The older girl, Lyla, answered as she walked in, stomping her feet to shake off some of the mud and leaves.

"I'll help with that!" (Y/n) offered with excitement Lyla hadn't expected.

"Um. Okay, but don't get your hands too close to the furnaces." Lyla warned, handing (Y/n) some of the uncooked meat.

"I am not ten anymore, Lyla," (Y/n) chuckled. "I know a thing or two about cooking."

"Of course you do.. Just, be careful." Lyla sighed with a little smile. Lyla looked over (Y/n)'s shoulder for a minute or two before determining that (Y/n) indeed was completely capable, and plopped down on the couch to take a load off her sore legs. Looking down, Lyla saw that the cut had already stopped bleeding, so she didn't care to bother herself with it at the time.

"Hey, Lyla, why don't you take a shower and stuff?" (Y/n) suggested from over the counter.

"What; do I smell like trash?" Lyla looked at her sister with a smile.

"Maybe." (Y/n) chuckled. So Lyla decided to be considerate and take her shower then instead of later.

After the shower, Lyla dressed into a clean version of the outfit she had just been wearing, since all she had were duplicates of the same outfit, and walked back into the kitchen. (Y/n) was almost done and looked like she was doing something else in the kitchen too, but Lyla paid no attention to that.

"I'll be at the field if you need me." Lyla waved goodbye before shutting the door behind her. Once she was outside, Lyla picked up the hoe just outside the door and walked around a few trees until she came to a clearing in the dense forest where crops of potatoes, carrots, and wheat grew. Some of the crops were ripe, so she dug them out right away and replaced them with seeds. Being in the field was a lot easier for Lyla. She was close enough to the house so that if (Y/n) screamed she would be able to run in and grab her dad's old iron sword on the way. She never liked the idea of (Y/n) being taken from her, in any form.

Thankfully that time the picking was pretty easy, and the sun was just about setting, so it's light didn't beat down on Lyla and instead beamed over the treetops like a massive spotlight.

"Guess that's it." Lyla mumbled with satisfaction to herself. Her light brown eyes sparkled when she thought of how nice that night's rest would be. It was a pretty casual day for her. The crops were slowing down and the young baby cows nearby all grown up. The leaves were just at the point of changing color and were slowly beginning to fall. All was right with the world.. But those inhabiting it, not so much. At least to Lyla it seemed that way. The only way she could escape her own thoughts was to work, yet she still pondered the what-ifs of fantasy. The alternatives that would have made things better instead of worse. If only, if only.

When Lyla returned home, it was surprisingly quiet.. A little too quiet.. 'Oh no. What if someone broke in?!' Lyla's imagination began to frolic. Quickly, Lyla slammed open the door and stepped in, looking around the living room frantically for any signs of a burglary. Nothing. Everything looked completely normal. The simple plain furniture the exact same as it had always been. But why was it so quiet? And why did Lyla feel like something was going on here?

"-SURPRISE!" (Y/n) popped out from behind a chair on the other side of the room, and some confetti flew up into the air before slowly falling to the floor. Lyla had no idea what was going on. She just looked at (Y/n)'s innocent smile with her own puzzled look.

"Wh.. what's going on?" She eventually asked after also noticing the decorations around.

"It's your birthday, silly!" (Y/n) laughed. Lyla wasn't sure (Y/n) was even telling the truth. It had been so long, she didn't even remember when her birthday was.

"..But, I haven't had one in years." Lyla said.

"I know. You always just celebrated my birthday. I just thought I would repay the favor. Sorry about the place being a little empty, but I didn't know who to invite." (Y/n) spoke.

"W, well you didn't have to invite anyone. Just like you didn't have to even do this. I am fine.. honest." Lyla pretty much rejected the party, but with the kindest little smile possible, which wasn't much.

"But Mom and Dad always-" (Y/n) was cut off right there.

"Yeah but they're not here, are they?! I, am not them, (Y/n)! As much as I try to be, I can't live up to them, and I am sorry, but I don't deserve a party!" And with that Lyla turned and ran back out the front door.