Authors Notes:
This story occurs about a few years after the outbreak began. The group has been at Alexandria for about six years. Judith is a little kid by the time Negan comes into the picture. Just to clarify I prefer the comic Negan more than the show version. I will use various elements from both medias. Alexandria's borders are suggested to be much larger with a wider community than in the show version as is Hilltop, it seems. Although I did keep the forest around the town. I'll try not to switch between the two of them too much, but I can't make any promises.

I'll also be mentioning a bit from other fandoms like Penny Dreadful, American Horror Story, Grey's anatomy, and several others. The majority of it will take place in the Walking Dead verse though.

Warning: Strong language and violence.

Just to be clear, I don't own the Walking Dead or any of the other fandoms.

Fairytales and Lullabies

Chapter 1
Children's Work
Sometimes being a child isn't easy, and it sure as hell isn't a piece of cake when you grow up in a world full of zombies. As Negan's army terrorizes their group, Judith feels pressure to protect everyone and take care of her family the best way she knows how; foraging, hunting and eluding the walking dead. But in time, Judith realizes there are things that only she can do, things that make her special in the entire world, and it'll either help her people more than ever or catch the interest some very bad armies.

The Prison Rose
When I was three someone told me that I was never born. My mother died on a rose plant inside a prison and my brother picked me from the buds and gave me to my father. That night I bloomed out of the flower. It was only until later that I realized that wasn't really true.

There was a prison, but no rose plant, and my mother did die but it hadn't been the sort of beautiful death I sometime imagined, in the least. There was terror and agony and my brother had really been there, but I came just as the rest of our species had come before, and a moment after that my mother left.

I was strange growing up. I could see things other people couldn't. I had a lot of friends and family. People came and left all the time, but one way or another they always came back to me. Once they left to other people, they were gone for good, but not for me. I saw them as often as they showed themselves to me. They were part of me, and they'd always stay part of me.

A Fascination for Witches
Once I started reading I grew a deep interest to books. Specifically fiction. Even more specifically fantasy. The first fantasy I ever read was a little picture book about a witch with a delivery service. It was traditionally a film from Japan but the creators had altered it into a translated illustrated story book, one of which I devoured every night over and over again as my bedtime story.

From that moment on I was fascinated with witches.

How did she keep her broom in the air? I had experimented with our own and I can say with certainty it sure didn't fly. Not only that it wasn't at all that comfortable to sit on.

I had so many questions, but the book didn't provide me with many answers.

It wasn't until my brother introduced me to another book that cleared some things up for me.

Harry Potter was a world I frequently visited, especially when I wanted to escape my own. At times though, it was hard to understand. I lived in neither the muggle world nor the wizarding world and as such it was curious and confusing when they regarded things like boarding school and trains and currency.

There were none of these in my world; no businesses or stores or public transportation—there wasn't even money, only a flimsy barter system. My world was a bubble around our town. Sometimes people went out and came back, but it was too dangerous for someone like me. Children were not allowed out beyond the boundaries of the iron walls. Always kept safe, always kept hidden, those were the rules for us. As one of youngest members of our town, if I did go out, it was with a capable adult skilled in fighting and escape. No exceptions. I can count the number of times that that had happened on one hand.

Sometimes when people went out, they didn't come back. Other times they came back, but they were changed. They were different. They laughed less. They talked less. They cried more. They hurt more.

That was my life. That was my world.

The only connection I had was what people brought back. Once my brother had returned with an entire box of books. As I rooted through them I came upon an encyclopedia of five thousand actual spells. My excitement soared at the idea of them and I asked if it was okay to keep it.

Carl had no use for it and no one else seemed all that interested in that sort of thing so I became its proud new owner.

I remember reading it with gusto but was surprised to learn the spells weren't exactly like Harry Potter's brand of magic. Even so, magic was magic and I could already sort of understand that there were different kinds. Maybe this was just a special brand for muggles to learn.

I began practicing some of the little rituals and recipes; the ones that mostly brought good luck and sweet dreams. In my opinion, those seemed to be greatly needed for our little town. No one discouraged me. I think they wanted to give me something to believe and hope for, and if it made me happy there were no objections.

So I continued the practice, learning them like the little prayers and blessings from Father Gabriel's sermons. He was the only one who really disapproved of the magic, saying it was against god's law to follow witchcraft and such pagan beliefs.

"She's not hurting anyone with it." My dad announced to Gabriel. He rarely spoke his own opinion about my interests with these things, but when someone spoke their disapproval of something that seemed so harmless is when he stepped in. "There are worse things she could find as a hobby and she'll probably grow out of it someday. But for the moment it makes her feel better about things, so I'm not going to judge or interfere with it, and neither will you or anyone else."

It was the last anyone said anything about it so I continued the practice and did not grow out of it.

Identity
"Maggie, do you know how to cut hair?" I asked the woman one day a few weeks after I turned six.

"Well enough. I used to cut my sister's hair." She announced with a somewhat sad smile.

"Will you cut mine?"

"You want to cut your hair? But it's so pretty when it's long like this."

"I know but Carl found me a really good manga and I've decided I want to have hair like the girl right here." I held up a book to her with a picture of a little girl with short blond hair and a side ponytail. "Do you think you could do something like this?"

"Hmm… looks easy enough. Yeah I think so. I'll go get the scissors."

I went to wet my hair while Maggie gathered all the things. She was waiting for me when I met her in the kitchen and was instantly ready to wrap me up in the towel provided. She snipped the scissors and the hair fell away. "It'll be different to see you with short hair." She announced filling the silence with chitchat rather than mere occasional snips. "You look so much like your mom with long hair."

"I know." I said somberly. "That's why it needs to be cut. Every time Dad and Carl look at me, they're sad."

My words threw her off and she paused probably thinking of her own memories of my mother. "So why do you want your hair to look like a comic book character?"

"Not a comic book; a manga," I corrected. Only six and I was already annoyed by the ignorance when people didn't see the difference. "And her name is Hibiki."

"Alright, my bad. Why do you want to look like Hibiki?"

"Her hair is cute, and she can do magic and I like the kind of person she is. And it seemed like an easy enough hair style to copy."

"Good enough answers. What's the comic—I'm sorry, manga about?"

"Well Hibiki lives with a magician as his assistant, and he's teaching her how to use magic, but she's not very good at it. She messes up and she loses her nerve. Her master does in magic circles. It's where he draws a special circle on the ground and it has some kind of magic charge. But in that world magic always comes at a price. Sometimes it takes people's memories, sometimes it takes their youth, sometimes it even takes a bit of their life away."

"That sounds awful."

"Sometimes it is. But Hibiki tries to make a magic that doesn't need a price like that. I'm not sure if she manages it though, because I've only got two of the books and she didn't get that far I guess."

"That's too bad." She finished with the last snip and began drying it with the hair dryer.

"Yeah it is but I can always imagine what happened. That's not so bad."

"I suppose, though it would have been nice to know for sure how she did it."

"Yeah, but sometimes that's just how things are."

She was quiet as she put the side ponytail in my hair, taking the extra effort to floof it a bit. Once done she angled a hand mirror around to let me view her work.

"So… what do you think?"

"It's great!" I announced happily, touching the lochs experimentally. I didn't quite look like the girl on the cover but there was nothing I could do to change my face. Thankfully the new hairdo improved the resemblance and that satisfied me.

Rejected
It was hot. I was finished with my chores and eager to spend this time reading up with one of the new books my brother had found for me. Normally I chose to read on the porch but today I was eager for a change of scenery. Absently I looked out over the line between the surrounding wall and the trees. A steady wind blew up bringing with it a tune that sang to me. I was never allowed outside the fence but I could hear it calling even so, like a whispering friend.

I tried to stamp down on the desire to sneak out, despite common sense. Instead I looked towards the main gate and spotted Natasha pacing in her lookout perch. A stab of longing pierced me and I ran up to the perch hopefully.

"Natasha? Can I read up there with you?"

She glanced down, uneasily. "I'm not sure if that's a good idea."

"I promise not to jump and I won't be loud." I held the book to my chest. "I'll be good. I promise."

She paused. There hadn't been an accident in months and bad things rarely happened on the lookout. "…Alright. Come up, but don't make a ruckus and don't distract me."

"Alright." I shambled up and made myself comfortable on the side, swinging my legs back and forth between the gap as I looked out over the trees. It was such a pretty spot.

"What's your book?"

"Island of the Blue Dolphins."

"What's it about?"

"A girl who's stranded all alone on the island of her ancestors after all her people leave."

"I think I must have read that when I was younger. I sort of remember a book like that growing up."

"It's good. I like it."

I swung my legs back and forth as I read, but then the activity of several gathered walkers below engrossed my attention. I watched them for a moment, curious how they seemed to reach more for Natasha than me even though my legs kicked back and forth, which naturally should have attracted them more.

"Why do they like you and not me?" I asked the woman.

She looked at me. "What do you mean?"

"Sit down." I instructed. "The way I am, only over there."

"You know I can't move from my post. I need to be on the ready."

"Well then wave down at them." She didn't want to. "Come on. They're all the way down there and they can't hurt us."

She hesitated but eventually stepped towards the edge and whistled down at the six surrounding walkers. They all looked up at her, coming towards the edge and stretching towards her in hunger, attracted by her sound and movement. I continued to swing my legs over the edge, but none of them so much as looked towards me.

"I'll be damned." Natasha said in awe. "How are you doing that? Do you have something on you?"

"I don't think so."

She looked uneasily down at the herd. "Why don't you go back down and read somewhere else."

"Awe, do I have to?"

"Yes. Go find your brother and see if he needs any help with his chores."

"Okay." I climbed down from the lookout and went back to my house, putting the odd exchange out of my mind as I skipped off.

Wolf Attack
I remember the smoke and the screams. I remember the wild men and women as they broke through the fence and rampaged through the streets of our town. I remember my brother coming into my room and telling me to stay inside and away from the windows. I remember him cocking the gun and pointing it at the door of my room, prepared and ready to use it on anyone we didn't recognize.

We stayed like that for hours, listening to the screams outside and smelling the smoke as our fields and supplies burned. Finally a knock came from the door and our father was outside telling us it was alright to come out again.

When we stepped out the door of our house we surveyed the land and saw tall buildings as mere rubble. Our fields were only ashes now and our food was greatly depleted. Aside from that there were bodies piled high and everyone walked as if in a daze, staring at the work we put our hearts into reduced now to nothing in a matter of moments.

It was terrifying for anyone who could understand it. Winter was on us and we had nearly no supplies to face it with. There was nothing.

Negotiations with Hilltop
People whispered here and there about a newcomer in town. Dad and Daryl had met him on a supply run and there was talk about opening trade with another town.

"We'll have some good food in a few days." He told me, patting my head as he loaded into the RV with my brother and several of our best fighters. "I'll be back soon and we'll have dinner again, alright honey?"

I nodded. These days my tummy was always aching for food, but I knew better than to complain. Everyone was really hungry. I had to keep that in mind.

But just as he promised, he was back the very next day with fresh food and I grinned large and bright as I hugged a whole ear of corn to me in excitement.

I couldn't wait to have a real dinner and that night I was full for the first time in weeks.

The Outpost Attack
A few days after Dad had traded with the group known as Hilltop he and our best fighters went out once again to fulfill the services they promised in exchange for the food we'd been given.

But when he came back there were ghosts on everyone's faces. I saw men and women I didn't know lined up behind them all and an overwhelming shadow of fear dropped over me as I studied these strangers. Then the wind blew through them and carried them away to whatever final destination was waiting for them.

I knew without asking that those spirits were dead because of my family, but I never asked them why.

The Ambush
Maggie was in pain. That was the only thing I really understood about what was happening to her. She was in pain and agony. Something to do with the baby, is what I could gather. Something was horribly wrong with her baby. I was scared and didn't know what to do as she cried for me to run and get help. Sprinting from the house I found my dad and told him, with tears in my eyes about what had happened.

He and a few of the others looked her over, but none of them were doctors. The only place we knew that could help her was miles away. Dad told me not to worry though as he and Carl loaded up with the young woman into the RV and set out for the other town.

I put it out of my mind for the rest of the day, convinced that they were all sure to come back good as new.

But that same night after my father left to take Maggie to the doctor in Hilltop, accompanied by our strongest fighters, I woke up feeling there was something deeply wrong.

I remember it so clearly.

I got up and walked downstairs, not sure what was calling me. When I opened the front door the sight of Glenn's back sitting on our porch was what greeted me. Right then I understood what had happened.

Silently I went and took a seat beside him.

We said no words but I knew he was no longer alive. He looked like how Hershel and Beth looked. He looked like how my mother looked.

He looked better than this world had left him in. The laughter was back in his eyes. The jokes he had carried long before I knew him were back. This was the real Glenn; the one that still had his parents, that hotwired a flashy red car, the one that delivered pizzas and joked with the customers to be rewarded with a large tip for the service. But it was also the one that fought to protect Maggie, wrestled away from a hundred walkers with nothing but guard armor out of an overrun prison, went back to save one who had stood with the invading force, and fought and sacrificed and bled and cried countless times for his family—for us.

He was all of them, and none of them. The heartache wasn't there, neither was the pain, the fear, or the sorrow.

He finally looked over at me and smiled. Then he turned and my gaze followed his. Across the street from our house was Abraham.

He wore a sharp navy blue military suit and he wasn't alone. Beside him stood a woman I'd seen before and two children; Ellen, AJ, and Becca. I had talked with them once before.

Abraham's chest puffed out in pride as the woman took his hand and the children took each of theirs. No one said a word as they turned and walked down the street, a smile gracing all their faces.

They walked away and didn't come back. Abraham had moved on. I wouldn't see him again in this life, but it didn't sadden me. He was happy.

But Glenn didn't leave. We sat together all night, watching the sky and counting the shooting stars that shot by. The next morning Gabriel found me curled on the porch. Glenn was gone this time and a horn was blaring in the distance outside the walls.

Broken
When my father came back that day, I did not recognize him. His face was not harmed and his body was intact, in a sense, but his spirit was greatly broken. His life-force had been drained and what laughter had remained in his eyes before he had left, was all gone.

They were all greatly changed. No one laughed. No one smiled. My brother himself walked as if lost.

And there were fewer of them than there had been.

Abraham and Glenn I knew were both passed, but additionally my uncle Daryl himself was now missing from the group.

My fears for him were more than the fears for the ones dead and I clearly remember running to my room to cast a spell of protection for him.

The next few days were strange. Everyone was scrambling to gather supplies but nobody would tell me why. In that time I was instructed to stay out of the way. No one wanted to play with me or read. There was a heavy burden on my father's shoulders quite suddenly, one that made him jump and panic at the slightest noise. I could not bring myself to ask what it was, even to the others, so I occupied my time in searching for Glenn.

Normally the spirits were fickle and came and went at their own discretion, but Glenn… there was something wrong with him. He was… injured wasn't the right word. I don't know. I didn't understand. So I consulted Hershel.

"Glenn's spirit is being haunted." He told me.

"Like a ghost?"

"In a way."

"But he's a ghost. How can a ghost haunt another ghost?"

"It isn't something dead." He said. "It's his murderer."

"A walker?" It was the only thing I could think of that would want to harm him. There were already so many people who had been killed by them so it would make sense.

"No. Something worse." The old man explained looking out at some distant point through the window. "He can't move passed it. He's afraid. I've tried talking to him but there's something coming that terrifies him more than anything else."

"Can I help him?"

He looked at me and for the first time I remember trouble in his eyes. "I don't know."

A Warning
"Michonne, why is everyone scared?"

The behavior of the town lately had set me on edge and my dad wasn't talking or looking at me much for some reason. Not even my brother wanted to talk. So I consulted Michonne about my concerns, confident that she would give me a straight answer.

Solemnly she knelt to the ground and looked me in the eye, staring at me with urgency as she held my shoulders firmly.

"Judith, some very bad people are coming here." She said simply. "All you need to know about them is that they are bad men and they will hurt anyone to get whatever they want, including you."

"Did they hurt, dad?"

"Yes."

"Did they hurt you?"

"Yes."

I looked away. "Will Glenn and Abraham's murderer be there?"

She looked painfully sad and could only nod.

"Your father wants you to stay hidden when they get here. You can't come out until they're gone."

"Why not? I'm not scared of them." I announced boldly.

"These are men you need to be scared of, Judith." Michonne urged.

"Are you scared?"

She didn't answer, but her silence spoke volumes, setting me immediately on edge. If these people were enough to make this strong, powerful woman afraid, then they really were bad people. They were bad people and they were coming to hurt my family. They were coming to hurt my father—again! They were the reason he was broken and terrified! They were the reason Glenn's spirit couldn't be at peace!

And they were coming here!

I couldn't let them do the same to the rest of the people here! I couldn't! I needed a plan. I needed a spell to keep everyone safe.

A powerful spell!