Ahhh it's been awhile, I know, I know...I honestly thought I would have time this summer, but alas, other things have come up that I've had to attend to.

I do like this chapter a lot, actually. I like how it flows. Not sure how I did with grammar in this chapter, though...there might be a few errors, fair warning.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own GWTW.

Chapter 11

The girl was no more than sixteen years of age.

All she did was cry. Rivulets had streamed down her face when she first arrived, and still continued to flood her room. The girl drowned in her depression; she was dreadfully unhappy, and being in such a predicament as she was in, none blamed the poor girl for confining herself in the safety of her bedroom. Though her surroundings were dark and drab, it was refreshing and bright compared to the darkness that now stained her being.

Everyone—even the drunkest of the patrons—could hear her miserable, pitiful sobs. She howled into her pillow, day after day, and never seemed to stop. No one attempted to stop her from doing so. She did not eat for an entire day, which worried Belle and the girls greatly. Such a young thing as her oughtn't to miss meals, being as thin as she already was! After much encouragement, they finally got the girl to eat some bread and cheese before she declared herself "full".

She would not work, and no one forced her to. Belle had made this very clear to Silvia when she had first arrived at her doorstep.

"You haven't got any meat on ya anyway, darlin'! We can's all tell ya don't wanna. All's fine, honey, I swear."

Silvia Roth was born into a happy family in Savannah. She had once been a very pretty girl. Growing up, she had everything a girl could ever want: lovely gowns, no siblings, a beautiful home, and plenty of food. Her life was perfect in the sense that she had everything. She was sheltered and spoiled, yet she was a very nice girl, unlike other girls whom had such luxuries. Never had she been a Southern Belle, but never was she inclined to obtain such a title. For her, actions were far more important to be judged on. She was neither conceited nor rude, for such attitudes were unnecessary. Why should one want to be remembered in such a negative light? It was something she could never wrap her head around, and never attempted—or wanted—to.

Her life turned for the worst when she was thirteen. She was completely unsuspecting of the horror that would catch up with her later in life, as she was meant to. Fate did not greet his clients with warnings or premonitions about future events, and Silvia was no special case to him.

As all young girls were meant to, she attended the local schoolhouse. One day, she met up with some other girls, and they all walked to school together, for it was the first day of the new school year. They made small talk, giggling about silly things, and gossiping about the events from the summer. Upon arriving at the school, all of the girls gasped and whispered at the sight before them.

In front of the school stood a group of boys. One in particular stood out. He was much taller than the boys surrounding him, though his companions did not pay him much mind. His complexion shone like honey, and his perfectly-combed chestnut hair gleamed in the bright sunlight. The crisp white dress shirt he wore fitted him most becomingly. The most astonishing characteristic of the boy was his eyes. They sparkled a deep, cobalt-blue, and reflected his youth. When he laughed, his eyes lighted up with a free, unrefined happiness, similar to that of a child's.

"Who is that boy over there?" Millie Saunders, a peppy redheaded girl, asked.

"I've never seen him before." Lillie North remarked. She twirled a blond curl around her finger. "He's rather attractive, is he not?"

"Hush! He might very well hear you!" Silvia blushed furiously.

All the girls laughed. Confused, Silvia questioned them about their reaction.

"Dear Silvia, you've never blushed so much in all your life, I daresay!" Miriam Alcerot, an older girl, teased.

"Oh, please! Don't be exaggerative, Miriam!" Mille scolded.

"How rude of you to forget the incident from this summer!" Lille chimed in. "I believe Silvia's cheeks were ready to burst!"

The girls burst into a fit of giggles. Silvia rolled her eyes, but soon joined in their merriment.

During the summer, Silvia and her friends were at a barbeque party. At one point, during luncheon, some older boys passed by them. One of them, a sixteen-year old named James Hathesbury, had winked at Silvia. Her cheeks had flushed rather deeply, and she turned her head down in modesty. He was rather good-looking, what with fine blonde hair and ocean-blue eyes with flecks of green in them. By the time she left, Silvia was as red as a tomato.

James Hathesbury was not just a simple boy. He was attractive, and extremely rich. Everything about him glorified his perfection. His family owned the infamous Maple Plantation. It had belonged to the Hathesburys since the late eighteenth century. His father's late father had purchased the land, and decided to build the most beautiful plantation in all of Savannah. The work consumed him until the end of his days, and by then, his only son was given the final product. Most astonishingly, James' father did not improve the plantation. Desperate to start a family, he married a wealthy woman whom had inherited a massive sum of money after her father's death, and soon James was born. The Hathesburys gloried in their wealth, for they had every reason in the world to be happy.

James was never of the turmoil going on within his family. All of his peers could see through the disguise, which only made him more cocky and oblivious to the matter. Instead, he focused on being the perfect son for his perfect parents, and tended to flirt a bit too much with girls his age. There were rumors flitting about whenever he picked up a new girl on his arm, but no one dared stop him. His family was well-known, and if a scandal broke out, their name would be tarnished forever. So, none of his peers attempted to address these rumors with him, for none wanted to see a friend become a broken shell.

Silvia was not a girl who received much attention, despite the fact that she was beautiful. Physically, she was not alluring whatsoever, what with her flat chest, slightly freckled complexion, dull hazel eyes, and chocolate-brown hair. Her heart, however, was made of pure gold, and all of her acquaintances were well-aware of this fact. She was the epitome of a beautiful mind, and, for her, that had always been enough. Her friends were far more attractive than her, but none had her gentle nature. Most males found in Silvia a confidante, but few saw her as much more than simply that, so it was most surprising when James Hathesbury paid her that small bit of attention over the summer.

The schoolyard gradually began to fill up. Friends reunited, and began talking of their summers. Everyone talked of the latest scandals, despite the fact that they were much too young to know of such adult matters. But the topic that everyone was talking about was the mysterious new boy. None had seen him over the summer, and none knew what to expect from him. They were a bit wary of him, but also intrigued. All too soon, the school bell rang. The students hustled into the schoolhouse.

It was revealed at precisely eight o'clock that the boy was a new pupil. His name was Albert Henning. He and his family had recently moved to the area, and had not had any time to meet their neighbors. They were originally from New York.

As was to be expected, the fact that he was a Yankee in Savannah caused much criticism. The students began to throw disdainful looks towards their new peer. All who had been so desperate to find out his background now wanted Albert to disappear. The teacher hushed the class before disaster had the opportunity to strike.

Over the next few months, Albert was ignored. He was often teased by the other boys, and although the girls tended to be a bit nicer to him, it was all fakeness. He would sit alone under the shade of a sycamore tree, and once he finished his lunch (usually only consisting of an apple and some bread), he would head inside the shelter of the schoolhouse. There, he would read a novel, or study his verses.

Silvia was an incredibly empathetic person. She often stole glances at him, which were not out of complete boredom or repulsion. No, for she began to see him as a tortured soul, who was just rather unlucky to live in such a judgmental place. When he did not think anyone was looking, Albert would draw his knees up to his chest, and bury his head. He then rummaged through his pockets until he found his handkerchief. Once he took hold of it, he subtly brought it to his eyes, which were hidden from view, so that none of his peers saw him silently sobbing. And none of his peers did see, except for Silvia. She had a keen eye for small gestures, and it broke her heart to see him suffering so. Silvia longed to comfort him; he looked so completely alone, yet Silvia's friends held her back from talking to him.

"He's a Yankee, Silvia!"

"My Pa says that all the Yankees are evil."
"Why, of course they are! My mother says that they are absolutely foul!"

And what was the girl to say to all of this? She felt that she was bound to be loyal to her friends, for, without them, her life would be pointless! Never could she live without her friends! She was rather dependent on them for helping her with her dilemmas, and they depended on her for advice. It was a system, and it was necessary for it to be intact. Although she did not agree with her friends all of the time, she still obeyed them as if she was an underdog, which, she was.

Silvia was in the point of her life that all young people go through at least once. She was conflicted, both about her feelings and her reputation. Something about the boy intrigued her, but she could not quite place her finger on it at the time. Her heart and mind did not agree. As is usually the case, her mind stated the obvious: the boy was completely wrong for her, for he was a Yankee, and that's all there was to it. Yet, her heart yearned to get closer to him, and to understand him. It was a battle that raged within Silvia, which would eventually crescendo into a war.

~o~

One chilly day, Silva was walking home alone. It was the middle of November, and it was uncommonly cold for Georgians. There was a slight wind that rustled the trees. The clouds overheard were soft and wispy in a bright, blue sky, accompanied by the sun gleaming high.

Silvia soon found that her hands were cold. Shivering, she searched the pockets of her coat for her mittens. To her dismay, she could not find them. She must have left them at the schoolhouse, or dropped them during the walk. It was much too cold to turn back and search for them. Sighing, she stuffed her frozen hands into her pockets and continued to walk home.

Eventually, she reached the general store. It was a small shop owned by a little old man with kind eyes. He was ever so nice to everyone who came in, which was a rarity itself in Savannah. Inside were various sweets and snacks that beckoned children through the door. The aroma of sugar flowed out of the shop, and anyone who walked past could smell the pleasant fragrance. It was not a sickly sweetness, but rather a pleasant sweetness that was reminiscent of childhood and innocence.

Silvia waved to Mr. Parker, the owner of the general store. He waved back, and beckoned her inside. Smiling sadly, she shook her head. If it had not been so cold, she would have gladly retreated inside the warmth of the shop and bought herself a hot chocolate. The hot chocolate that Mr. Parker made was simply divine! It was velvety and warm, like silk.

She was about to continue home when she heard her name being called. Startled, she whirled around to find Albert standing a few feet behind her.

"Are these yours?" He held out her mittens.

She gasped and nodded. "Yes, thank you! My hands have been freezing!" Silvia gingerly took her mittens. "Where ever did you find them?"

Albert looked down at his feet for a moment before explaining. "Well…you see…I saw them slip out of your coat a few days ago."

Puzzled, Silvia questioned, "Why did you not give them back sooner, then?"

At this, Albert frowned. "Well, it's perfectly obvious, isn't it? You never talk to me, and your friends would be uncomfortable if I just walked up with your mittens…"

"You know I wouldn't have been rude to you or anything…" Silvia was beginning to grow agitated. "And if my friends were being rude, well…that's just their problem, Albert."

He smiled at her. "To be honest, Silvia, you're the nicest person at school. I see the pitiful looks you throw my way every day." The boy blushed, and shuffled his feet.

Silvia felt her cheeks flush as well. Had she been so obvious? She softened. "Well, I must get home. My mother will throw a fit if I get home after dark!" She turned to go.

"Silvia, wait!" Alert gently grasped her wrist. She colored slightly at the contact. "You should come inside the store. You're shivering."

Smiling at his concern, she shook her head. "No, I really must be getting home."

"Then I shall walk you home." He offered her his arm.

She felt her eyes water slightly. "Oh, Albert! Why, that's very kind of you—"

"I cannot possibly allow you to be all alone on such a day as this. What if you catch cold, or perhaps a deadly fever? I could never live with myself if you did, and I did not do a thing to stop it!"

Silvia chuckled. "You are too dramatic! I doubt I would contact such illnesses!"

"One never knows, Silvia." He quirked up a corner of his mouth.

Sighing, she relented, and allowed him to escort her home. The two chatted, and Silvia found herself rather enamored with Albert. She studied his every feature as he spoke. Up close, she saw that there was a speck of hazel in his sharp eyes. He talked with such vivid animation unlike anyone else she knew. Not only was he enthusiastic about every topic that they talked about, but he was openly honest and kind to her, which was refreshing as no one truly listened to her opinions.

When they at long last arrived at her house, Silvia's mother ushered them inside.

"Much too cold for this time of year…" she mumbled.

Flustered, both from the cold and her mother's fussing, Silvia made hasty introductions. Albert complimented their home with genuine warmth, and it won the heart of Silvia's mother. She asked him if he would like to stay for dinner. He politely declined, and headed home.

"He's a nice boy." Mrs. Roth commented, smiling at her daughter. She kissed her forehead. "Friend of yours, darling?"

Silvia smiled back, and nodded. "Yes, I think so, mother." She glanced out the window, and caught a glimpse of Albert walking down the street. "Yes, I think so…"

~o~

As Silvia reached the ripe young age of sixteen, she found herself completely in love with Albert. She experienced the same emotions that she had read about in novels. Her head swam with thoughts of Albert with a consistency that was, admittedly, a bit frightening. The heart in her breast beat ever so more whenever she set her eyes upon him. She even took a bit of extra care with her appearance nowadays; before she and Albert had begun to talk, never would Silvia Roth dab eau de parfum on her neck or apply a touch of rouge to her cheeks. How new and exciting such feelings were! So thoroughly convinced was she of her affections, and thus did not see how this would ultimately affect her in the near future.

Albert and Silvia had grown very close over the past few years. Over time, most of the children warmed up to Albert. Part of this influx of warmth was due to Silvia's constant praise of him and his abilities. More so, however, it was his kindness that had won everyone over. Soon, everyone grew accustomed to him, and he even developed a slight Southern twang after so much exposure to the accent. He became rather popular, and was respected in a way that was almost foreign to him.

The Christmas of 1875 was the beginning of the end for Silvia Roth.

The Roths had invited the Hennings over for Christmas dinner. The two families were not particularly close, but since their children insisted upon spending the holiday together, the families relented. There was a grand feast of smoked ham, buttery mashed potatoes with warm gravy, green beans doused with garlic sauce, thick beef stew, crisp roast duck, sweet plum pudding, bitter black coffee, creamy eggnog, fresh pears, and more. The two families laughed merrily, engaged in joyful conversation, and were soon immensely stuffed. All was well, and none expected that anything could ruin their holiday.

After dinner was through, the adults retreated; the women went through to the parlor, and the men stepped outside to enjoy a cigar. Albert and Silvia were left alone in the dining room.

Both were dressed up, and both looked much older than their sixteen years. Silvia wore a deep, forest-green dress with golden embroidery. The dress flattered her immensely, and though her corset was pulled rather tight, it still managed to accentuate her slight curves. Her hair was done up in an elegant chignon, and her slender neck was adorned with an obsidian necklace. On her wrist was a heavy, onyx bracelet. She radiated, and it did not remain unnoticed. Albert sported a navy-blue suit with a grey waistcoat and white dress shirt. The attire was similar to that of a businessman's. His hair was combed neatly, as per usual, and in the candlelight, flecks of gold and brown could be distinguished. In his waistcoat was his father's golden pocket watch. He looked rather dashing, and this as well did not remain unnoticed.

Feeling rather awkward to be left alone, neither said a word for quite some time. Both were quite at a loss of words, for both were rather nervous being alone together. They had spent time together, both at and outside of school. But since their respective families were with them, their private moment could be shattered in an instant. Both were expected to behave properly, and not stain their reputations. When at last the silence became unbearable, Albert stood and held his hand out to Silvia.

"Would you care to dance?" He bowed slightly, and glanced up at Silvia, his voice seeping with adoration.

She felt her heart quicken, and turned her head down in hopes that he would not see her cheeks burning. "There isn't any music—"

"So?" The boy smiled. "We don't really need any, do we?" There was a wicked, playful glint in his eyes.

Laughing, Silvia took his hand. The two waltzed as their parents had taught them. They imagined a string ensemble was set up in the corner, gracefully playing a lovely tune. In their minds, the dining room melted away and transformed into a glimmering ballroom. Other couples whirled around them, until only the two children were left.

When the waltz was over, their imaginary orchestra struck up another song. This time, it was a reel. The pair clapped and twirled as if others were amongst them. It was an endless fantasy one much too grand and enjoyable for Albert and Silvia. They never wanted it to end.

And so it continued. Dance after dance, the pair whirled and laughed. They were relishing in their imaginative freedom. During their fantasy, Albert knocked his head against a tiny green plant. The two suddenly awoke from their glorious dream, and glanced up at the plant. It had white berries and green fronds…

"Mistletoe." Albert smiled slightly. "The berries are supposed to be poisonous, you know?" He shook his head at the thought. "So strange, the tradition of kissing underneath a death trap during the happiest time of the year."

Silvia nodded. She felt her heart racing, and figured that he must have been able to hear it by now.

"So…" She glanced up at the plant. "Shall we continue the tradition?" she asked, rather quietly. She felt herself blush furiously. What a thing to say! Where had this boldness come from? The quiet, reserved Silvia that she thought she was would never have said anything so brash!

They were so close, yet she yearned to be even closer. She looked into his eyes, and detected the same longing gaze. Her heart thumped even harder.

"I think…" Albert caressed her cheek, softly, with his thumb. "It would not be a sin, but…the decision…ultimately lies with you, my dear Silvia." This he said between whispery breaths.

Silvia was only an inch shorter than him, so she had no trouble examining his features. In the dying candlelight, his hair looked much darker and thus, much thicker. His eyes smoldered, and she longed to quench the fire within them with her own. She could feel his breath, softly tickling her cheek. His lips were parted ever so slightly, and she wondered what it would be like to place her lips on top of his. Handsome, so very handsome, and she wanted to kiss him, desperately.

Oh God, what was happening to her? She could barely sort her thoughts into words! Her heart was racing, faster and faster, and she felt quite faint.

"I think," she replied, gently placing a hand on his chest, just over his heart, "Tradition ought to be kept." She smiled slightly, and—using her other hand—softly brushed a stray piece of hair out of his eyes.

He nodded slightly before bringing a hand to the back of her neck. She felt her nerves tingle with pleasure at the contact. They leaned forwards until their noses touched. Silvia closed her eyes gently, and vaguely heard Albert whisper her name before he captured her lips with his own.

The fire was instantaneous. Once their lips collided, a burning passion spread throughout their bodies. Somehow, whether it was pure instinct or surprise, the two folded in to each other as the kiss continued. When they broke apart at long last, the two looked at each other, breathless. Then, with an eagerness that neither of them knew existed in them, they kissed, again and again, letting themselves get lost. Her arms snaked around his neck, and her fingers got tangled in his hair. At this, he slightly moaned into her mouth. He wrapped his arms around her waist and ran his hands up and down the length of her back. She whimpered with pleasure as she felt the pressure of his fingers trailing up and down her back. They pressed closer and closer together, but never close enough. Their bodies conformed to each other, and seemed to fit like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Time stopped. All was bliss, pure bliss.

And then, suddenly, they were ripped apart by an unknown force. Everything, then, happened in a sickening slowness. Silvia looked up to see her father's enraged face. He was red with rage, and she could see a vein on the side of his forehead popping out. With evident contempt, he hurled her towards her mother. She looked down to see white finger marks on her wrist where her father had gripped her.

"Mother—" She began, breathless and blushing. "Nothing happened, Mother, I promise! We kissed, that's all—"

"You. Little…" Her mother raised her hand.

The strike that was delivered to Silvia's face drowned out her mother's last word. She did not feel shame, for that would have meant that she did not care for Albert. Instead, she felt a deep and sullen melancholy, for she knew then what was to happen to her.

Albert's parents, though a bit pale themselves, attempted to step in and save the girl, but both were ignored and banished from the Roth household for all of eternity. Eventually, they managed to skirt around the enraged parents, and take hold of Silvia's hand. But all too soon, Silvia's parents pushed the three Hennings out the door and held Silvia back. Silvia saw Albert cast one final, worried glance her way before the door slammed in his face.

She would never forget the expression on his face: the sadness and worry reflected in his eyes, and his cheeks were still rather red with excitement. He had looked at her with such care, such—dare she think it, love—and she had foolishly hoped that all would be well once again, for she could not bear the thought of abandoning him. So long as she knew that he loved her, she had hoped against all hope that everything would be alright.

How wrong she was.

"Get out of our sight." Her mother spat.

"Mother! Please, if you would let me explain—" Silvia attempted to take her mother's hand. Throwing her a disgusted look, Mrs. Roth flicked her daughter's fingers away from her.

"Listen to your mother, Silvia." Her father growled. "You are a disgrace to this family, an utter disgrace, do you hear?" He would not meet her eyes. Instead, he scowled at the ground, which was a look he reserved for people he believed were below him.

Silvia was stunned, but not entirely surprised. She had expected as much when she began to have feelings for Albert. It had been surprising that they had not realized it sooner, though. Her parents were rather perceptive.

What had surprised her immensely was the harshness. Never had they talked to her with such disappointment and betrayal. She, in all her life, had never given them a reason to until now. Although she expected the rage, she did not expect that it would escalate to such a high intensity.

Without another word, Silvia turned and headed to her room. She felt the tears burning in her eyes, but she willed them away. Crying with her parents so nearby would only increase their rage, and make them think that they had won. She would not allow the latter to occur without going down with a fight of her own.

Silvia's parents had always wished for their daughter to enter a convent. For all of her childhood, they had fed this to Silvia, and Silvia had always been eager about it. When she was merely eight years of age, Silvia had already began to develop a genuine interest and passion in religion. Therefore, upon seeing her with Albert, they had been driven mad with rage. Their darling little daughter, the one they spoiled and toted on, kissing a boy was as horrifying as if she had lit their home on fire! They had taught her very early on that obedience was essential, and that a disobedient woman ought to be punished most severely. To them, children were wonderful gifts in the world. But their darling little girl had never hinted about having affections for anyone, especially a Yankee at that.

Silvia packed that night. Christmas night, of all nights! What ill fortune! She filled her trunk with only a few old dresses, and she left all her jewelry behind. All of her fine luxuries would hurt too much to look at, much less adorn. Silvia, no longer caring about her parents' stuffy rules, sneaked down to the library to steal an armful of books. She had always loved reading, but she was "forbidden" from engaging in too much of it. After all, it was incredibly improper for her to do so.

On Boxing Day, Silvia boarded an early train to Atlanta; she did not say farewell to anyone; not her parents, not her friends, not even Albert.

When she arrived, she walked around Atlanta. It had always been too big and pompous for her, unlike the small and quiet Savannah that she loved. But that had been part of the reason she had chosen to go there. If, for whatever reason, her parents wished to find her, it would be much harder for them to find her in the large city.

That night, while she was wandering about, Silvia tripped on a large pebble. She threw her arm out and grasped a nearby carriage. The horse whinnied in surprise, and she patted its back in pity. As she straightened, Silvia saw a woman with bright red hair poke her head out of the carriage.

From there on, she discovered Belle's establishment.

For many, countless days afterwards, Silvia considered what would have happened if she had gone to Albert. The two of them could live in peaceful bliss. His family would have taken her in, cared for her…

But it was still in Savannah, and that, ultimately, was where the problem lied. She could not show her face in a town where she would never be respected again. And even if the Hennings managed to keep her lodgings with them secret, someone would eventually find out. Shortly after, the news would spread like wildfire, and she would have to face her parents and their rage once again.

While she slept, Silvia often found herself dreaming of a glorious ballroom, and one rather dashing young man twirling her about on his arm…

A bit sad, yes, but all of the people who come to Belle's tend to have sad stories.

I tried to incorporate a few parallels between Scarlett and Silvia (green dresses, barbeque parties, etc). I hope they kind of worked?

Reviews are lovely, and much appreciated, whether positive and/or constructive.