Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Where are we going today, Mister Ksaver?” The young boy asked, taking off his baseball glove and placing it in the crook of his right arm. His grey eyes fixated on the usual alleyway that they use for catch as they walked past it.

“I have been invited to observe the open training being held today. It’s important for us to support the second generation of warrior candidates.” The older man replied, flashing the child a smile as he adjusted his glasses.

The boy frowned slightly, disappointed in the turn of today’s schedule. “Why do I have to come?” He certainly didn’t mean the question as rude, but it wasn’t a requirement for him to watch basic training of new recruits. Still, he followed his mentor down the cobbled paths of Liberio ever so diligently.

Mr. Ksaver let out a light chuckle as he placed his hands in his pockets. “I thought it would be important for you to witness. After all, Zeke, someone in this crop could very well be your colleague one day.”

Zeke suppressed a sigh, scratching a tuft of blond hair behind his ear. “But, Mr. Ksaver--”

“You haven’t been selected as my successor yet, Zeke, despite submitting my own personal reference. The pool, however, has grown smaller.” The older man explained, slowing his pace so the boy could catch up to him. “Should you accompany me, I thought this would demonstrate to Commander Magath your commitment to the Warrior Program, putting you a step ahead of the rest.”

Zeke’s expression changed, showing a sudden “click” in understanding. “That makes sense.” His gaze wandered over to his right, looking at a trench-filled, open area that brought back complicated memories. It was the spot of his own open training: sprints. The blond’s eyebrows furrowed; he remembered the look of disappointment on his parents’ faces. How his father walked away, too ashamed to even watch another moment.

It had been three years since then. Now at the age of ten, Zeke’s participation in the Warrior Program continued on, ushering in a new generation of recruits. After his parents were shipped off to Paradis, his drive in the program changed, as he had to prove he had different views of his mother and father. Although he didn’t have much allegiance to Marley, he did greatly admire Ksaver and his dedication to titan research. His grades improved, as did all other categories, like marksmanship, weapon proficiency, and agility. He had hoped it was enough to be considered as the inheritor of the Beast Titan.

“Just up ahead.” Ksaver said, interrupting Zeke’s reverie. As the two rounded the corner, Zeke could hear the familiar barking of orders from none other than Commander Magath. He was on a raised platform, overlooking what appeared to be an open, empty lot. Beside him was a flip scoreboard, resting on a pedestal, used to keep track of the number of laps. The lot, usually used for junk disposal, was transformed into a makeshift track, the junk shaped in a way to outline the oval boundaries. Inside that track, several children, with ages ranging from five to seven, all with grey armbands, were running laps. Ksaver stopped walking in the middle of the block to lean on the wooden fence; Zeke copied his mentor, as if it was a game of Simon Says.

“A race…?” That was nothing new. He surely did not miss basic training. Though, something about this puzzled him. He studied the area a bit more before glancing up at Ksaver. “Why didn’t they just use the regular field?”

“Because…” The bespectacled man began, keeping his eyes on the track. “...this isn’t a sprint. It’s a marathon.”

“FINGER! PICK UP THE PACE! IF YOU’RE GOING TO RUN THAT SLOW YOU MIGHT AS WELL GO HOME!”

Magath’s sudden bellowing caught Zeke’s attention. He followed the Commander’s gaze to a little girl, no more than seven, who just now completed her second lap. She was ridiculously behind the throng of the other candidates by almost half the distance of the track. The callout brought out some snickers from some of the other kids who were out-performing her. None of it broke her focus, however, it all seemed like background noise to her.

Zeke winced as he looked at the lap counter. “She’ll never catch up at this rate.”

“Really? You think so?” Ksaver retorted back, following his question with a shrug. “Reminds me of someone else I know…”

The blond’s eyes glanced upward at Ksaver. He had a point.

“And what did I just say? This isn’t a sprint, it’s a--”

“Marathon.” Zeke finished the sentence. After all, that truly was what the Warrior Program was, was it not? If it wasn’t, he would’ve been tossed aside long ago and deemed worthless. Luckily, he worked the long game to his advantage.

The similarities in experience only made him want to root for the poor girl.

Some time passed before Zeke looked at the lap counter again. The beginning of the fourth lap started with the girl now getting lapped by the leader of the pack. As time went by, more and more candidates lapped her, so much so it was hard to tell what number lap she was even on. They jeered her as they passed by. It didn’t take much imagination to fill in the blanks.

A sudden groan took his attention away from her to another part of the track. A few candidates had collapsed to their knees, out of breath and with no more strength to continue on, despite how hard they tried to get back up. They had easily run two miles, and two miles was quite a feat for the younger kids. The older, more fit candidates, however, were still keeping good pace. Whenever any child fell, the Commander let out a sharp “OUT!” indicating that the kids have lost.

This continued for several agonizing minutes. One by one, children dropped like flies. Half of them were down by the time they hit three miles. Zeke scanned the fallen to locate the little girl, but she was nowhere to be found.

“There.” Ksaver stated, pointing to the girl in question. Zeke’s mouth parted just a little in surprise. She was still up. She was still running. 

The race carried on, and by lap 20, over half of the kids were down on the ground, hardly able to breathe. Only a handful were left, including the little girl who refused to give up. Strands of black hair had fallen from her small ponytail, clinging to her face due to a thick layer of sweat. She wiped her brow to prevent the droplets from falling into her dark-colored eyes, but that did not shake the unbreakable focus and determination in her gaze.

By lap 25, there were only five candidates still running, and then by lap 28, only two: the boy who was the leader of the pack since the beginning, and the little girl who had been dead last this whole time. Zeke gripped onto the wooden fence, surprised that this turned out to be quite an exhilarating spectacle to behold.

Ksaver let out a sound of disbelief. “They have had to have run...goodness...seven miles by now.”

And then suddenly, it happened, the leader’s knees buckled. He stumbled just a little bit, but was able to stay on his feet. The other children, at least the ones who still had the energy to watch, gasped at the sight. He could only run for another half a lap before he too collapsed. 

Zeke opened his mouth in celebratory surprise, though no sound came out. He couldn’t believe it. She did it! She actually did it! She won!

“And we have our winner. Never write anyone off too soon, Zeke. Even us Eldians have some value to offer to Marley.” Ksaver commented.

“LISTEN UP, MAGGOTS.” Magath started, addressing the still conscious children in the lot. “I HOPE YOU LEARNED A THING OR TWO FROM PIECK’S SURPRISING STUNT TODAY--EH?” The Commander cut his own sentence short, for running right past him to complete another lap was the little girl he referred to as Pieck Finger.

“FINGER! YOU DON’T HAVE TO RUN ANYMORE. YOU WON. HEY! FINGER! ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?!”

Zeke’s eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. Despite Magath’s calls, the little girl kept running. She carefully navigated around and over the fallen bodies in her path, but she kept running. That look had never left her eyes.

Magath eventually stopped his protests, now also curious to see just how far this kid could run. She eventually caught up to how far the initial leader ran to and pressed on. The entire lot was silent, too stunned in what they were witnessing to even comment.

It was lap 36 before the girl slowly, but finally, came to a halt. She let out a sigh as she leaned forward to rest her hands on her knees, though still standing.

Zeke could just barely make out her whispered words from where he was watching.

“Okay...I’m tired now.”

. . .

Zeke carried his tray out of the cafeteria towards a small stack of empty crates near the service entrance. He had always preferred eating alone. The Warrior Program wasn’t exactly the place to make friends, or at least that is what he told himself. It seemed he got his meal just in time, for staggering towards the entrance were the exhausted half-corpses of the second generation Warrior Cadets. They fought each other to get through the entrance first; all that running must have worked up quite the hefty appetite. Once the moans and groans dissipated as they filed their way inside, Zeke finally found it the appropriate atmosphere for him to begin eating. He was about to take a bite of his beef stew when he noticed a straggler out of the corner of his eye.

As fate would have it, it was the little girl who won the marathon. She loitered outside, her gaze lingering upwards towards the sky as she clasped her hands behind her back. It was enough to capture Zeke’s curiosity.

“Aren’t you going to eat? Better get some before it’s all gone.”

The girl’s dark eyes darted over to the voice, as if surprised to hear a younger voice speak to her instead of the usual gruff adults. She turned her smaller frame to face him, tilting her head to the side.

“Why would I start to eat now? With how much we ran, I’d just get sick if I started scarfing down my food,” she replied with a head jerk towards the cafeteria. She was clearly thinking of her peers inside, no doubt shoveling stew into their mouths only to lose their lunch later. “It would be a waste of good food.”

The answer surprised him, though his only tell was a slight raise of his eyebrows. “Ha, you’re exactly right. Smart move,” Zeke stated. It was rare for him to compliment another candidate, as he usually was apathetic, but this girl intrigued him. He finally took his first bite of stew before continuing. “What’s your name?” Zeke already knew, but he figured it would be polite to ask first.

The girl first looked at his armband, and then back to his face before replying. She seemed to be determining how formal she needed to be. Even sitting down, Zeke was clearly older than her, and his yellow armband only helped to confirm that she was in the presence of a confirmed Warrior Candidate.

“Finger. Pieck Finger.”

She walked towards him, standing a few feet away, as if still unsure if his comments were an invitation to a longer conversation.

“And your name?”

“I’m Zeke. Zeke Yeager. It’s nice to meet you, Pieck Finger.” Zeke thought it was a rather unfortunate last name that probably brought her some teasing, though there was no need in pointing that out or participating in it. He experienced enough of that first hand to know what it feels like. “Quite the stunt you pulled today,” Zeke began, eating another spoonful of his stew before continuing, “I haven’t seen the Commander ever look that surprised before. It’s a wonder how he didn’t pass you immediately.”

“Ah, you were watching.” He could hear a soft grunt as Pieck sat down next to him, brushing some stray locks of hair out of her face. She said her sentence more as a statement instead of a question, which led Zeke to question whether she had noticed him at the time, or whether she was simply intuiting the information from what he had said. “Thank you for saying that. I just wanted to show what I’m good at. We don’t do marathons all too often. Commander Magath seems to like sprints…” She glanced back at the mustard-colored fabric on his arm. “...but I’m sure you already know that.”

Zeke made a grimace before ripping off a bite of bread with his teeth. “What? Don’t you love sprints too?” His cheery voice certainly did not match his facial expression, but he followed his question with a whisper. “I’d much rather be on latrine cleaning duty.” Zeke tested the waters, wanting to get a feel of her views towards Marley and if she took offense to his joke. He could, after all, always play off a joke as just a joke. Despite still being so young, these past three years had eroded his ability to trust others. He had already learned how to choose his words carefully.

At his joke, the little girl’s dark eyes brightened and a soft, adorable giggle escaped her lips. It reminded Zeke of her age. Thankfully, it seemed, this intriguing girl was still young enough to appreciate a jest or two. Perhaps she wasn’t old enough to be as paranoid as the older children, those who were old enough to understand what a misinterpreted joke could mean for an Eldian family. Nevertheless, Pieck lifted her hand to cover her mouth in a conspiratorial way.

“Honestly? Me, too. Unless it was after those guys finishing lunch today,” she pointed to the cafeteria and smiled over at Zeke. “In that case, I’d take the sprints.”

She let the joke hang in the air, giving Zeke time to laugh before she stretched out to lean back on her hands, head tilting back up towards the sky above. For a girl so young, she moved slow and deliberately. It reminded Zeke of a cat. 

“But really, I’m not good at sprints. My grades are good, but I’m not the fastest, or the strongest. Running for a long time is really what I can do.”

“I’d say nine miles is longer than a long time.” Zeke’s eyebrows furrowed as he continued consuming his meal. This girl, who was in a competitive program, had no problem accepting and listing off her weaknesses to him, a rival. Not to mention, her weaknesses were what made them even more similar than he initially thought. “But if that’s the case...what made you want to join anyways?”

Pieck waited a moment before answering, watching a cloud pass above them, appearing and disappearing beyond the tall walls of the alley. She was thinking hard, evident by the slightest furrow between her brows. What to say, what not to say. Zeke was used to that look.

“My father,” she finally answered. “He’s sick. The doctors don’t know how to help him. But if I become a Warrior, I can be an honorary Marleyan. Then the Marleyan doctors can help him. He’ll get better. If I don’t… No, if I can’t…” She left her sentence unfinished, but her meaning was clear.

A small frown formed on Zeke’s lips from hearing her genuine answer. He had hoped, for only a fleeting moment, that the doomed path they are on doesn’t ruin her kindheartedness. “So you want to bargain for his already well-lived years of life by limiting yourself to thirteen? I doubt he likes that math.”

Zeke’s father liked that math very much. Zeke was an expendable variable in his father’s ideal equation.

“No, I don’t think that he does,” she said slowly, lowering her head to look down her reclining body at her muddied boots. “But I don’t want to see him suffer and hurt anymore. He’s my father.” 

That simple answer said it all. It explained the hardship of the training that she had subjected herself to. It demonstrated the price she was willing to pay, that they were all willing to pay, and for what? To become slightly more valued, devilish pieces of trash that the Marleyans reminded them daily that they were, with a lifespan not even half as long as they were supposed to have. Her love for her father is what created that spark of determination in the set of her jaw and the look in her eyes.

Internally, Zeke thought her reasoning was stupid, but he knew that when people are set in their ways, they can’t be reasoned with. He wouldn’t bother. Instead, he gave her a shrug as he finished off his piece of bread. “Suit yourself.” He was almost done with his lunch, the only food item remaining was an apple. Zeke picked the tray up off his lap and rose to his feet, tucking the tray under his arm to hold the red piece of fruit in his other hand. He didn’t have anywhere in particular to be just yet, but if he stayed too much longer, she’d start asking him questions in return. He certainly had no desire to talk about himself.

“You’re leaving?” Pieck inquired, the dip in her voice communicating a small degree of disappointment. She looked over and up at him, squinting a little against the light. He determined the dark circles under her eyes were natural, not a trick of the building’s shadow.  “Oh wait, I was going to ask you... why did you become a candidate?”

The blond boy pretended to deliberate for a moment before lifting his index finger off of the apple in order to bring it up to his lips, as if making a shushing gesture. “It’s a secret. Maybe someday, when you’re a Warrior too, I’ll tell you.” He winked at her before moving his left arm to bring attention to his yellow-colored armband.

“Here,” Zeke called out as he tossed the apple towards Pieck, hoping she had quick enough reflexes to catch it. “At this rate, there will be no more food left to eat. You can’t prove yourself to be worthy of the great honor of becoming a Marley Warrior on an empty stomach.”

As Zeke turned to start walking away, the younger girl sprung up from her relaxed position at the projectile, cross-legged as she caught the apple with both of her hands. Pieck looked down at the gesture of kindness, the crimson snack in her hands, and a light pink dusting over her features as she looked back at him. “Thank you. I’ll hold you to it. Good luck with your own training, Zeke Yeager!”

The blond stopped in his tracks; a deal was made. He had to admit, he admired her determination. He turned to look at her over his shoulder, giving her a singular wave with his free hand.

“See you later, Pieck Finger.”

Chapter Text

The sun was high in the sky as Pieck Finger finished her nineteenth lap around the extended track for Warriors-in-training. Unlike what Marleyan children would have, the Eldians resorted to designating a running route that ran the circumference of several blocks of the Liberio district. The sweat was beading on her forehead, dripping uncomfortably down the neck of her white uniform shirt. The repetitive pounding of her feet against the uneven pavement made her feet swell, her brown shoes uncomfortably tight. On a usual day, Pieck didn’t mind running until she couldn’t breathe anymore, somewhere around forty laps. But today’s bright sun and summer humidity made her usual slow pace even more arduous.

Pieck looked down at her yellow armband, reflecting on her morning. Commander Magath had rounded up the confirmed candidates in the morning for their classroom curriculum, followed by their usual strength training, which combined had taken three hours.  By now, the Warrior Program was currently testing their third generation of candidates. This created a scheduling problem for their commander, as the newest candidates were scheduled to be at the training field alongside the confirmed candidates. As such, he had tasked them to complete the rest of their aerobic training in self-study.

“After all,” Magath had said, “I trust that if you actually want to become a Warrior, you won’t use this as an opportunity to slack off. Ten laps minimum. Report back this afternoon at 2:30PM.”

The candidates had smartly saluted before beginning their respective laps. Some ran in groups, and most sped ahead of Pieck. But she was used to that. She didn’t need to run ahead of everyone else, because she could last longer than every single one of them. She would make up for her lack of speed with her endurance and put in extra time and effort. If Magath said to run ten laps, she would do twenty.

Pieck turned the final bend in the track, seeing the end in sight. Up ahead, ten feet away from the finish line, was a lanky young teen with straw-colored hair, sitting down in the shade of a larger tree. It had been three years since Pieck had first met Zeke Yeager, the boy who took the time to talk with her after one of the toughest marathons of her training. Since then, she had kept her promise of earning the yellow armband, making them peers of one another. Pieck thought about it; she didn’t have to run alone like before, not if she asked him.

She slowed down, walking up to the boy so she would not startle him. He was in the process of pulling out a small canteen from the cargo pocket of his shorts, taking a few gulps of water in order to rehydrate. Her heart was pounding in her sternum as she approached, strangely not due to the excessive amount of laps her ten-year-old self had been completing. She gripped the bottom of her shirt with her hands, begging the sweat to evaporate off of her skin.

“Zeke?” she asked quietly, wanting to get his attention first. Then she breathed in to make her request. “Will you run one more lap with me?”

The blond knew exactly who that voice belonged to. His grey eyes adjusted their gaze to the girl standing just beside him. He shook his head at her question out of amusement. “What, Piecky? Not tired yet?” He questioned with a smile, refastening the cap of his canteen before putting it back into his pocket. Zeke rose to his feet, dusting off his hands before placing his fists on his hips. “I didn’t even hear a ‘please’…” His eyes narrowed to a squint as he let his sentence hang in the air. Zeke leaned his torso forward to become eye level with her; the years that have passed have made their height difference just a tiny bit wider.

“Oh!” she exclaimed with surprise. She had nearly forgotten about formalities. He was, after all, her senior. “Please? Please, will you run one more lap? With me?” She looked up at him from under her bangs, hoping he wouldn’t uncharacteristically reprimand her for a lack of manners.

“Well, since you asked so nicely...” Zeke replied, bending completely forward in order to tighten the laces of his boots. “I think I could do one more.” He flashed her a small smile before rising back to his full height and transitioning into a light jog. “You set the pace though.” He glanced down at her, his blond hair tousling to the rhythm of his footfalls. “Just one though, okay? You have the tendency to always try to stretch it to five.”

Pieck’s eyes lit up as he agreed to her request, tightening the band that held her hair back before catching up to him. “All right, if one more is all that you can handle,” she chuckled, her tone lacking the competitive edge that usually would be attached to that statement. She knew full well that Zeke Yeager, with his lengthening leg span, could run circles around her, if he wanted. “This is my twentieth lap, anyway.”

As they bantered, she noticed that he was true to his word. He was allowing her to set the pace, a blessing on her shorter legs. He had adjusted his step to fall in line with hers, their footfalls synchronizing to hit the pavement.

As the pair ran down sidewalks, alleys, and over crosswalks, Zeke would occasionally change sides in order to be closest to the street. While running along a long stretch of pavement, Zeke caught a glimpse of his least favorite, but very familiar stretch of field. He heard Magath’s barking from a distance; the Commander was having the new recruits do a pushup challenge. The younger ones could hardly even do a straight leg pushup.

“Bets on how many you think will last?” Zeke questioned, mentally evaluating the kids as he looked on. Three years ago, there were only fifteen first generation candidates that received a yellow armband. Currently, five remain, including Zeke. Pieck’s generation also saw a narrow selection with twelve making the cut and staying in the program. It was a common game between the two to make bets, even on the silliest things.

Pieck tilted her head in the direction that Zeke was looking, observing the pushup contest, before turning back to smirk up at him. “Really? I’m surprised that you’re so ready to lose again.” 

The two Warrior candidates had created a game for themselves early on in their friendship. One would bet the other on some inane, silly thing, and neither could remember who started it. The topic was always something that would lead to no consequence for one another: what dessert the cafeteria would serve that day, which officer would get a promotion first, the weather a week from the current day. They often made bets on the other candidates, but never on one another. Pieck liked to keep track of who had won the most bets. Currently, after three years, the score was forty-two to thirty-seven, with Pieck in the lead. She took immense pride in that.

“But maybe you’re eager to close the gap between us?” she shrugged with a smile, seeing if he would take the bait. “I still have five more than you. But I’ll take the chance. I bet…” Her eyes narrowed, analyzing every shaking, small arm that she could see from their distance. “...Nine.”

“Thank you, scorekeeper.” Zeke rolled his eyes. “But yeah, I am. I will never catch up unless I make a wager.” The boy scanned the potential recruits. His eyes were instantly drawn to a small blond girl, no more than five-years-old, whose hair was pulled back into a bun. She was like a monster, doing pushups at double the rate than all the others.

“Well she’s a shoe-in for sure…” Zeke muttered under his breath. “Hmm, I’ll say seven.”

Pieck clicked her tongue against her teeth as she shook her head, chiding him like a grandmother would. “Your loss, Yeager. The pool is getting smaller and smaller the less Titans are available, but I doubt it will get that small.”

The two continued to jog for a few minutes, debating the statistics of their wager, when they were interrupted by a yell of distress.

“Pieck! Pieck Finger!”

Pieck slowed her pace to a halt as a middle-aged woman hurried her way up to the two candidates. The woman was a fellow Eldian, a neighbor of Pieck’s, who wore an expression of panic on her face as she approached. “There you are, my dear! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” she panted, clutching at her chest to catch her breath.

“Mrs. Hartmann, what’s wrong?” Pieck asked, her young voice soft and serious.

“It’s… your father,” she said in between gasps. “He… fell… in the street.”

Pieck felt something heavy drop within her to the pit of her stomach. She felt like she was listening underwater, her ears ringing as Mrs. Hartmann continued to describe the fall, the injuries to her father’s head, and the other Eldians who had stopped to help search for poor Mr. Finger’s daughter.

Zeke, in the midst of trying to catch his breath, looked down at Pieck with a look of concern. Based on what Pieck had told him about the state of her father’s health, he wondered if this warranted a trip to the hospital. When she continued to be silent, no doubt lost in her own head, he spoke up for her. “Thank you, ma’am. She’ll be straight home after training today. Please let any of his helpers know that you got the message to her.”

Mrs. Hartmann blinked owlishly as she seemed to notice Zeke standing there, an immediate smile appearing on her face. “Oh! Yes, of course, I’ll make sure to let all of the volunteers know. It shouldn’t be hard to find them. Everyone was still standing on the street. They weren’t sure of whether to move Mr. Finger or not, you know how head injuries can be. But it’s so nice to see Pieck has a friend like you, young man! Hurry home after your training, Pieck, dear.”

As the woman left, Pieck managed to choke out a “Thank you, I will,” before her brain started to feel like it was working again. She still felt sluggish, like she was moving through mud or curry. She wanted to run as fast as the wind, but it felt like a nightmare, some unseen and oppressive force denying you the speed.

“I have to go,” she murmured, turning abruptly from the path ahead of them. She had only walked a few paces when she was suddenly stopped by a warm grip around her wrist. 

“Pieck, you can’t leave. We haven’t been dismissed from training,” Zeke started, trying to talk some logic into her brain. “You’ll get a beating if one of the Officers catches you AWOL.” The older male knew that scenario would only make the situation worse. “Besides, even if you did sneak by without anyone seeing you, you’ll never make it back by two-thirty.” Zeke was right; Pieck’s residence was on the opposite side of the internment zone.

“I don’t care,” Pieck calmly responded, looking up at him. “I know full-well that there aren’t any doctors around that will help him. A Marleyan doctor won’t even look at him, even with a head injury. They said they hadn’t even moved him from where he fell.” Pieck felt the fogginess in her brain start to dissipate, her resolve solidifying. “I’m good at sneaking around. They won’t see me. I don’t care if I don’t get back in time. He’s all that I have, Zeke. He’s my father.”

As Pieck repeated that same mantra she had when they first met, he noticed that the look in her eyes hadn’t changed. She was usually so calm and easygoing, unfazed by most things that went on around her. However, whenever her father was brought into the picture, a stubbornness could be seen in the young girl. It was this stubbornness now that allowed her to stare up into Zeke’s grey eyes, holding his gaze with a confidence that was uncommon in a girl her age. He knew that she would go regardless, and accept the beating that awaited her if she didn’t return in time.

A few moments of silence passed. Zeke could easily read the look in her eyes--that spark, that hope, that determination--ever since they met, he never wanted it to fizzle out. Despite this doomed path they were on, he would do what he could to make it last just a little bit longer. A sigh escaped him before speaking. “My grandfather...he’s a doctor, remember? We can get him.” Zeke looked down at his wrist watch, the time reading 1:50PM. “If we take my bike, we may be able to make it back in time. Come with me.” His order was soft, but his hand firmly remained latched around her wrist as he guided them to where he stored his bike for the day. His grandparents had saved up to buy it for him for his thirteenth birthday; he couldn’t think of a more suitable way to utilize it before now.

Pieck tripped over her own feet as he tugged her towards his bicycle, completely off balance in more ways than one. Zeke usually seemed to do exactly what was asked of him, but rarely did he go out of his way to help someone else. It wasn’t cruel, just pragmatic. But here he was, helping her, despite the possible risk of him getting into just as much trouble as she would. Pieck couldn’t help but smile to herself.

“Do you think that it will hold both of us? Where should I sit?” After all, Pieck had never ridden a bicycle before.

Zeke stopped near the back entrance of the cafeteria, pulling out his bike that was hidden behind stacks of food crates. “You can sit right here.” Zeke patted the rear bike rack accessory that was rigged to his bike. He usually used it to carry his belongings, but acting as a makeshift second seat would have to do. The blond swung his right leg over the bike then rested on his toes as he hovered over the seat. “Hop on. You’ll have to sit sideways.” He said his instructions with urgency, knowing they were pressed for time.

Turning her body, Pieck hopped up onto the hard, metal surface. She leaned forward just as Zeke put a foot onto one of the pedals, wrapping her arms tightly around his middle. “Sorry,” she muttered, resting her upper body against him. 

“Here we go. Hang on.” Zeke called back to her as he kicked off the ground and pushed the bike forward. As the wheels started to turn, she shifted her legs outwards, not wanting her feet to get caught in the rapidly spinning spokes.

As Zeke pedaled, Pieck found her grip on him tightening. With the swaying of the bicycle, and her sitting sideways, she worried that her weight would cause them to tip to one side, resulting in a surely painful crash. But with every push of Zeke’s strong legs, Pieck felt her reservations leaving her. She would have to trust him to get her to where she needed to go. In the meantime, Pieck was content to watch the Liberio streets and buildings rush by. If she squinted her eyes just right, she could reduce everything into a blur of color.

“How long will it take? You bike to training often, right?” she asked after a few minutes.

“Yeah. It usually takes me a little over 10 minutes.” Zeke replied in between breaths, his grey eyes vigilantly scanning the streets for officers. He rose off of the seat to pedal even harder, trying to go as fast as he could while keeping the bike under control. “But that’s when I’m not in a rush.” The blond would do his best to shave as many minutes off their route as he could. “When we get there, you get off and I’ll go get my grandfather, okay?”

“Y-Yes, sir!” Pieck called out, raising her voice to push past the forceful wind created by their speed, just to reach his ears. “I’ll stay with him until you get back.” His question called her away from her thoughts about the racing streets around her, and back to their current mission. Would her father be conscious when they arrived? How bad was the injury? Would Zeke’s grandfather stop whatever he was doing to help, if there was anything he could do at all?

Zeke felt the gradual beads of sweat collecting at his temples. He was starting to get tired, especially after already running so much previously. He cut his last corner sharply before his eyes narrowed on a small crowd gathered up ahead. He never let up off his speed, and once they got close, used both the handbrake and his foot to have them come to a drifting halt, causing Pieck to squeak in surprise from behind him.

The sight was nothing less but gruesome. Pieck’s father was lying in a rather uncomfortable position, just off the curb of the street. A good samaritan was pressing a now bloodstained towel just above his right ear. Tracks of Mr. Finger’s blood had dried along his face and neck, soiling his shirt collar below. He was half-conscious, crying out pained moans and groans while the spectators were trying to keep him awake.

Pieck wasted no time at hopping off of her seat.

“I’ll be back as fast I can.” Zeke did not wait for a reply before kicking off of the ground once more, pedaling hard and fast towards his own house.

“Father!” she called out, pushing through the small crowd’s legs to get to him. She knelt down beside him, not caring how the hot, black pavement scorched her unprotected knees. “Father, I’m here! Can you hear me?”

Pieck’s father groaned at the pressure of the towel, blearily opening his eyes to see the worried face of his own daughter. “Pieck… What are you… doing here?” he asked, his words slow and somewhat slurred in his confusion. “You should be… somewhere…”

“Don’t worry, Father,” Pieck murmured, reaching down to hold onto her father’s hand. She wanted to soothe him, the child acting far more like a parent. “I’ve called for help. Someone is coming… you’re going to be fine, you just have to stay awake, all right?”

Meanwhile, Zeke was able to make it to his residence in no time at all. He practically jumped off the bike, causing it to come to a crashing halt at the front of his house. He barged in quickly through the front door, startling both of his grandparents who were seated in their small living room.

“Zeke? Did you get released early from training today?” His grandfather questioned, setting down his newspaper.

“No.” Zeke choked out, trying to catch his breath in between his words as he rested against the door frame. “Grandpa, it’s Pieck Finger’s dad. He fell in the street and is bleeding badly. He needs help.”

Mr. Yeager’s facial expression turned to one of alarm as he immediately got up to fetch his doctor bag. Nothing else needed to be said. Everyone in the room knew what needed to be done.

Several minutes passed before Zeke made it back to the scene, but this time with his grandfather in tow.

“Everyone step aside. I’m a doctor!” Mr. Yeager exclaimed, parting the crowd in order to pass through. He knelt down beside Mr. Finger, quickly assessing his condition before rummaging about in his bag. “Zeke, please take Pieck back to training. I can handle it from here.”

Zeke gave his grandfather a nod before helping Pieck to her feet. “C’mon, Piecky. My grandpa has plenty of helpers here. They’ll make sure he’s okay.” He whispered in her ear, trying his best to sound reassuring.

“But..!” Pieck was picked up to a standing position, her legs feeling like gelatin from kneeling for so long. Her father’s hand fell from her grasp, as did the bloodied towel that she had taken over from the good samaritan from earlier. She looked down at her only family member with concern, her dark eyes more hooded than usual. “Where will I be able to see him? Will you bring him back home, Doctor Yeager? Or a hospital?” she asked Zeke’s grandfather.

“These gentlemen here will help me transport him to the hospital. Once cleared, he will be sent on home.”

The answer was enough for Zeke. He didn’t mean to seem cold, but what was important now was making sure they could get back in time. As he ushered her away by her shoulders, he could overhear his grandfather starting to give orders to the volunteers, walking them through the triage process. He did not once let go of her before getting her back onto the bike rack, fearful that she would wander back over if left to her own devices.

Pieck called a quick “thank you” back to Dr. Yeager before lifting herself back onto her perch on Zeke’s bike. Wrapping her fragile arms once more around his middle, she gave one long glance to her father before Zeke started pedaling. As the world started to rush by, Zeke heard Pieck let out a long sigh. It was as if she had been holding in her breath ever since Mrs. Hartmann had told her the news. It must be a relief for her to know that her dad was now in the excellent care of a respected doctor like Dr. Yeager. Zeke felt the gentle weight of Pieck pressing her cheek against his back, resting her head and closing her eyes.

“Thank you, too, Zeke…” she said. “You risked a lot to help my father.”

“I’m sure you would do the same for me.” He wasn’t just sure, he knew for certain. “But hold your thanks. We’re not out of the woods yet.” Zeke deflected her gratitude with a convenient excuse. One should only be thanked when going out of one’s way or doing favor for someone else. He was doing none of those things. This was an act of selfishness. He wanted to keep that spark in her eyes. Zeke may have gone on to not have the love of his father, but she didn’t have to.

The return trip was more arduous than their first leg, as a good portion of it was uphill. Still, Zeke did not let up. He stood up on the bike once more, pressing into the pedals as hard as he could, each pump accompanied by a strained grunt. As they pulled into the final stretch, he glanced down at his watch: 2:27PM.  They were in line of sight of the yellow-bands lining up to report to Magath, the congregation only about fifty feet ahead.

“Pieck, hop off here. I’ll meet you at the lineup. Stall for me as much as you can, if necessary!”

Zeke slowed down just enough to let Pieck jump off of her seat to land firmly onto the dusty pavement before speeding up once more to stash his bike in its previous parking spot.

Pieck didn’t waste a moment as she sprinted across the grass-and-dirt field, pushing herself to skid to a halt at her place in line. The other cadets looked at her--seeing Pieck run so fast was unusual, after all-- but soon lost interest. Pieck straightened her uniform and armband, wanting to seem presentable. An orderly uniform would ensure that Magath had no reason to suspect her or Zeke breaking the rules. 

As the minutes ticked by, Pieck kept her casual stance but allowed her eyes to dart from side to side, the only sign of her agitation. Zeke was still nowhere to be seen, and Commander Magath was breaking apart from the cluster of officers to address the candidates! Pieck started to come up with ridiculous ways to stall for time. Should she incite a fight with one of the other candidates? Allow Zeke to come back during the kerfuffle? Or maybe she could pretend to be ill?

The Commander slowly began to go down the line of recruits while giving a speech, starting on the opposite end of Pieck. Pieck tried to keep her composure while the different possible excuses ran through her head. Still, she wouldn’t allow Zeke to get in trouble on his own, not after he risked so much to help her. She’d throw herself under the bus if she had to. Pieck refocused on Magath’s speech as he approached closer.

“And as official Warrior Candidates, it is important to be an encouraging example to the new cadets of how much hard work and dedication it takes to earn the honor of representing the great nation of Marley with a yellow--Yeager, why are you out of breath?”

Pieck let out the breath of air she was holding as Zeke lined up next to her just in the knick of time. Unlike the other candidates, however, he was dripping with sweat and trying to hide the fact that he needed to gasp for air.

“I’m sorry, sir. I was running laps up until the very minute. I wanted to push myself today.”

Magath’s demeanor changed at Zeke’s words as a combination of both pride and surprise overtook his facial features.

“Impressive, Yeager, especially coming from you. How many in total?”

Zeke was about to speak, but the answer came from the smaller girl next to him. “Twenty, sir. I ran with him the whole time.”

Zeke flashed Pieck a look, one that quickly told Pieck that was the wrong answer, even if it was truthful.

“Twenty?! That’s it?! You’re that exhausted after twenty?! Yeager, you’re going to have to grow more of a backbone if you want to inherit a Titan.”

Zeke grit his teeth. “Yes, sir.” If a small amount of degradation was the only consequence of their actions today, he’d take it.

. . .

Several weeks had passed before the day of the candidacy ceremony came around for the third generation. As official candidates, Zeke and Pieck were required to attend. They watched quietly as Magath called each child up to the stage, one by one, replacing their grey armband with a yellow one. At the end, he called each new candidate up to the stage for a group picture.

Pieck’s mouth shifted into a tiny smirk. There were nine total. She lightly elbowed Zeke, just enough to get his attention. “Forty-three to thirty-seven.”

Unlike most other thirteen-year-old boys, Zeke wasn’t upset that he lost their bet. A singular huff of air expelled out his nose as a small smile graced his features. He tilted his head ever so slightly towards her direction in order for her to hear his whisper of a reply,

“As expected of Pieck. You’re exactly right.”

Chapter Text

“Did you guys hear? They say they’ll be attacking Paradis in just a few more years. The time has come to inherit the Titans.” Zeke explained, casually tossing an apple up and down in the air as he spoke to the younger candidates in front of him. “The war with the South will be won soon, and the time for us to become Warriors is approaching. I’ve heard they’ll be reorganizing the Warrior Unit as a part of the army’s new structure.” He paused, only to toss the apple over to a brunette boy named Marcel. “Out of us seven warrior candidates...six will be made warriors all at once.”

Reiner seemed to be the one most excited about the news. “I did it! Now I can become a Marleyan!”

Zeke’s smile faltered only slightly when Porco, Marcel’s younger brother, spoke up. “Huh? You didn't do anything. You’re obviously the weakest in the group. If one person’s getting left behind, it’s going to be you.”

The eldest of the candidates exchanged a look of weariness with Marcel.

“What was that?” Reiner shot the other boy a glare.

“What are you good at? Are you strong? Smart? A good shot? A good fighter? You’re none of those, are you? What they saw in you was the loyalty to Marley you displayed in the written tests, wasn’t it?"

Their bickering continued, only further escalating as the rest of the other candidates looked on. After a few more heated verbal exchanges, it was Porco who finally threw a punch, knocking Reiner to the ground.

“Report this, you little shit!”

“Porco, stop!” Marcel shouted, going up behind his brother to restrain him.

Zeke had seen enough. He hopped down off of his perch only to place his hands in his pockets. He nodded towards a certain direction while making eye contact with Pieck. “Let’s go, Piecky.” Pieck followed him immediately, only to turn back around and look at the remaining candidates as Zeke spoke once more. “Don’t cry too long or I’m going to catch another beating from Commander Magath if you’re late.” After Zeke’s reprimanding, Porco stormed away from the scene with Marcel chasing after him.

As Bertholdt began to comfort Reiner, Pieck just sighed and turned to follow Zeke. It was here, only a mere step or two behind of him, that she felt the most comfortable. She noticed some of the physical changes that had taken place in him over the past few years. His shoulders broadened and his legs had lengthened, now causing him to practically tower over her. The baby roundness that could have been found in his cheeks before had smoothed. His back was more muscled, and from Pieck’s perspective, she could certainly tell. But there was something more, something in his posture. Was it maturity? Stress? A weight that he didn’t bear as heavily before? Pieck couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but she was certain that she would find out. After all, it was expected of her.

“Were you just going to let them brawl it out like that?” she murmured with vague concern.

Zeke shrugged, keeping his eyes on the path in front of them. “Just because I’m the oldest doesn’t mean I’m the babysitter. They can settle it. If not, Marley will notice their incapability of working as a team.” The blond sighed before speaking once more. “And here I thought it would be exciting news for all of you.”

“It is exciting news. I think someone might have just gotten too excited.”

The two walked down a few street blocks to their usual spot. It was the same spot that they had met six years ago--and yes, of course Pieck kept count. They arrived at the alley next to the candidate cafeteria. At this hour of the day, lunch had already been served and it was still too early for dinner to be prepared. No one would be coming near the service door for at least another two hours.

Pieck used one box as a step up to the second box on top, giving her a higher vantage point. She shifted her weight, lounging on her side as she watched where Zeke would move. Zeke always did like to compare her to a cat; when she did this, she didn’t blame him. She moved much like an alley cat as she stretched out her limbs before relaxing into her position.

Instead of sitting, Zeke leaned himself back against the wall, allowing Pieck to have the rare opportunity of having the higher vantage point. He positioned himself in between two large crates in order to shield him from the view of any passerbys. Once concealed, the older male reached into his pants pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He flipped the pack upside down, hitting it against his free hand a few times before pulling one out and placing it in between his lips. He then retrieved his metal lighter from his other pocket, flipping the cap off and striking it to light the end of his cigarette. Zeke immediately took a long drag, exhaling the smoke in the opposite direction of Pieck.

Pieck watched how the smoke drifted upwards, snaking its way up the alley walls and into the blue sky above them. It was beautiful, in a strange way. This new habit of Zeke’s wasn’t surprising to her; she had seen him smoke for a few months now. He always stepped away where no one could see him. She seemed to be the only person that he trusted this secret with. She wondered why he smoked. Did he want to seem older? So much pressure was already on him to be more mature, especially since he was the eldest of their group. She wished he didn’t feel the need to grow up faster than Marley was already making them. Or was he stressed, and this was his method to cope? Was this action to match the change in his posture that she had observed?

She obviously needed to stop watching him so closely, she thought with a light, pink flush appearing on her cheeks.

“You know, you really shouldn’t be smoking. Don’t they say it’s bad for your health? Your grandfather’s a doctor, after all,” she chided, lazily.

Zeke snorted at her reprimanding. “Does it really matter when I’m inheriting a Titan? I’ve been told it grants immunity to practically all medical conditions.” He held the cigarette in between his two fingers in order to give her an overexaggerated smile. “Or are you just concerned about me soiling my good reputation? How thoughtful of you, Piecky.” He took a moment to flick the ash off of the end of the cigarette. “You’re not going to tell on me, are you?”

It was true that Pieck was the only one who knew about his new smoking habit. Not even Mr. Ksaver knew, whose private conservations with the young man are what caused him to turn to smoking in the first place. With their euthanasia plan now fully visualized, it was a heavy load to carry on Zeke’s shoulders alone. He found that the only way he could relieve stress without jeopardizing their mission was smoking.

Pieck chuckled, folding her hands coyishly under her pointed chin. “Don’t you think that if I was going to tell on you, I already would have? I don’t think I would have given you quite so many warnings.”

“I suppose that’s true. I can always count on you to keep a secret for me.” Zeke replied with a wink. Zeke trusted Pieck with a lot of things. In fact, she was probably one of the only people to have ever fully earned the boy’s trust. Unfortunately, one could never acquire enough keys to unlock all of his secrets, and his future plan was one of them.

Pieck couldn’t help but beam at the words of praise. To hide her face, she shifted her body to lay on her back, gazing up at the sky. Zeke was already a fairly private person, and his friendly demeanor usually masked that fact so well that the others didn’t even realize it. Knowing that the older boy trusted her with secrets made her feel incredibly special. The feeling within her chest was akin to tempered chocolate: a slow, warm, bubbling feeling that rose up inside of her, leaving her with sweet thoughts. She wanted to pretend that he viewed her just as specially as she viewed him, that this place was their hideaway to tell secrets in. But she knew. She was aware that, from his side, she was special, but not in that way. Not in the way she thought that maybe… just maybe… she might want to be.

The younger teen took a slow, deep breath as she watched Zeke’s smoke drift up into the blue expanse, setting her expression back to her usual sleepy-calm expression before she spoke again. “So… the attack on Paradis is finally happening, is that right? Have you heard anything about the Marleyan plans? Tactics?”

Ever since Zeke was officially chosen as the Beast Titan’s inheritor shortly after his sixteenth birthday, he had been shadowing Mr. Ksaver on all of his meetings and duties. Pieck knew this, as it was formally announced, so it’s no wonder that she’s asking. How insightfully clever of her, as expected. Unfortunately for her, Zeke was already a cautious person.

“Piecky, you know even if I did, I couldn’t tell you. Nice try, though.” Zeke took another inhale of his cigarette. “You’ll just have to hold out a little longer until you get yourself a red band.” Even though there were seven candidates in total and now only five slots remaining after him, Zeke had every bit of confidence that Pieck would inherit a Titan. That is, if she still wanted it. Zeke knew the answer to that question, but there was a part of him that wished for her to outlive him sevenfold.

A sigh escaped her lips at his deflection, even if he was right. “I know. I was curious as to what part the Titans would play, not who was being selected. I don’t expect special treatment just because--” Just because of what? Because Pieck and Zeke were special to one another? Because they were friends? Did she want to use the word ‘friend?’

“--because you and I have known each other the longest,” she decided to say. 

Her thoughts followed down the natural path of their conversation. Would she be chosen? Looking at the other candidates, she would never admit it, but she was confident in earning a spot. She had come too far, never mind that she wasn’t the most physically strong. She had proved her unique worth over and over, with every test score, with every judgement call when they ran simulations, with every marathon. But was it enough?

“I have to be chosen…” Pieck murmured with conviction, just loud enough for Zeke to hear. “I have to earn one of those spots… I don’t know how much longer my father can go without the treatment he needs. I need that red armband.”

“Hey…” Zeke started, turning to face her, “There’s no way you won’t. You’re the smartest one of the bunch. There’s no way they wouldn’t pick you over--” He paused; he shouldn’t be playing favorites anymore, though he did have his opinions. “Besides, not all Titans are even combat-oriented. The Beast has never been used for that anyways.” The blond transferred his cigarette to his left hand before resting his right shoulder against the wall.

“That’s true… and I might be smart, but I wouldn’t necessarily say that I’m the smartest out of all of us.” Pieck rolled to her side once more to give Zeke a knowing glance. It was no secret that Zeke was incredibly intelligent. “As for the Beast…” Pieck decided to stop talking about her own troubles and worries. It was time for him to share, too.

She asked her question as softly as possible. “Are you scared?”

Zeke’s grey eyes blinked a few times in succession; no one, not once, had ever asked him that. “Does it even matter?” It was a genuine question. For Zeke, his feelings had never mattered. His parents certainly didn’t bother to care about how he felt, and now, nine years after selling them out, neither would the Marleyan military. His feelings weren’t worth anything, as far as he was concerned, because he shouldn’t have been born. But since he was cursed to be on this earth, he would put his emotions aside, as they only got in the way of his end goal. “I have been given the great honor of becoming a Warrior of Marley. It’s happening regardless.”

Pieck felt something ache in her chest at his answer. Zeke had never spoken much about his home life, even to Pieck. She knew that Eldians didn’t have many choices in their lifetime, and that lack of control over one’s own life usually led to an apathy about how it was spent. It was easier to give up and give in to what someone else would tell you, than to fight such an impossible fight for such a simple choice. But Pieck noticed that Zeke, especially over the years, seemed to express less of his personal opinions than even the other candidates. What had happened to make him think he had so few choices? Was it something at home? Something that he had seen? Something that an official had told him? Pieck thought maybe she was reading into it too much, but there was something in her gut that told her that she was onto something. Her intuition was rarely ever wrong.

“It’s true that it is a great honor,” she began to respond, treading carefully. For people like her, words like these, if misconstrued, could mean severe punishment. “As Eldians, we become soldiers to help pay for our peoples’ past sins, right? But we aren’t on the path to become regular soldiers. We will be Warriors, inheriting Titans. That’s a great amount of power and responsibility.”

The younger girl paused, adjusting her body into a more comfortable position to give him some time to think before she continued. “Given the process that I’ve heard of…” Her eyes flickered to his, analyzing if he would show even the smallest bit of hesitation, “...and you’ll not just be a Warrior, but you’ll be our leader… That could be a lot of pressure for one person to handle. Not that you can’t, I know you can. It might not change the result, but when I asked you if you were scared… you asked if it mattered. Well, it matters to me.”

Zeke knew Pieck rarely ever said anything she didn’t mean, but he was having a hard time believing it. The confession almost made him uncomfortable, just from how foreign it was to him. The only other person who had ever shown him this much empathy, this amount of caring, was Tom Ksaver. That relationship, however, made sense to Zeke. Mr. Ksaver was his mentor, his new father figure, though he wouldn’t dare admit that latter part out loud. So why was Pieck so invested? They were friends, but did Pieck consider them best friends? Zeke wouldn’t know how to tell the difference. He never had a best friend.

“I’d rather you not fret over me. You already have enough to worry about.” Zeke tried to deflect as best he could before taking another drag of his cigarette, though he knew it would not deter Pieck for long. He hesitated before speaking once more. “But no, I’m not scared. I’ve been debriefed on the process and I won’t be alone. Perhaps only a little bit nervous, simply because I haven’t experienced it before.” The blond flicked the ashes off the tip of his almost-out cigarette. “Mr. Ksaver says the initial injection is painful, but after that, I won’t remember a thing. It’s like waking up from a dream.”

Pieck closed her eyes as she listened to the lull of Zeke’s voice, her face lifted towards the sky once more. She was glad to hear that he wasn’t scared, although she wasn’t sure if she completely believed him. Or maybe Zeke had forgotten how to be scared a long time ago. Pieck reflected on how she would feel once she earned that red armband. She knew that there would be a part of her that was incredibly relieved at the honor, and what that would mean for her and her father. She was just as certain that a small part of her would be scared. But in that moment, she decided what she would tell herself when it was her turn to inherit whatever her Titan may be: it’s like waking up from a dream.

The raven-haired girl sat up abruptly, hopping down from her seat as she leaned against the wall opposite Zeke. “If you’re having any second thoughts, you know that now would be your time to call it off. I’m sure that Reiner and Porco would be thrilled,” she joked.

Zeke snorted as he threw his cigarette to the ground, stomping the remaining embers out with his foot. “Not a chance, though it is strange to think I won’t live past thirty.” For Pieck, it would be even younger; he didn’t wish to dwell on it. “I wonder if I can request how I want to spend my final days. You know, kind of like last meal requests before prisoners are executed?” The topic was morbid, and although Zeke was prone to dark humor within their private conversations, his tone was surprisingly serious.

Pieck shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I’m sure Mr. Ksaver would have a better idea. I think that it would be kind if they did allow it, although I’m not sure if that kindness is extended to people like us.” Pieck looked over at her companion, examining his current features. How would he change, physically, as he aged? As he grew older, would he plateau at his third decade? To most teenagers, thirty seemed like eons away. But to someone with more perspective like Pieck, she knew that thirty was still fairly young. She didn’t like thinking of the reality of any of their fates, but as Zeke spoke about his, she felt something clench painfully sharp in her chest.

Pieck struggled to breathe past the tightness and smiled instead, wishing that her expression hid her emotions as well as Zeke seemed to be able to. “What would you ask for? If you could?”

“Hmm…” Zeke crossed his arms as he shifted to lean his back against the wall. “Probably to stay at some cabin in the middle of nowhere, like up in the mountains. No people, no noise, just surrounded completely by nature, with a hammock and a bonfire.” Zeke let his thoughts get the better of him for a moment. “The air must smell so nice up there…” He shook his head to stop his mind from wandering. “But! That probably won’t happen, unless I were to fake my death or disappear under mysterious circumstances.” A smile spread across his face, further emphasizing his sarcastic tone.

Pieck chuckled quietly, her half-closed hand nearly covering her mouth to muffle it further. She obviously thought that he was joking. “Maybe some of those things could happen. You would probably need supervision or surveillance, so others might have to go with you. They wouldn’t want you to run off if they allowed it; you would be too valuable. But it seems like it would be nice… what a nice way to spend your days…” Her voice dropped off, imagining the scene that Zeke had painted. Then her mind changed her perspective: no longer was she an observer, but she imagined what it would be like to sit next to him, if he would allow it. Pieck stopped her thoughts, her cheeks warming at her imagination.

Zeke let out a small chuckle. “I never said it was realistic.” The blond then looked at his wrist watch. “Oh, we need to get back inside to report to Commander Magath. I can’t scold Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie without modeling a good example.” Zeke kicked the cigarette butt under the crates to hide it from view before making sure both his pack and his lighter were properly hidden and secure within the pockets of his candidate uniform.

“Yes, we don’t want a ‘pot calling the kettle black’ situation, now do we?” Pieck asked with a smirk. Worrying that he might see the lingering color on her face, Pieck walked a few steps ahead of her companion. The thirteen-year-old tried to seem as unaffected as possible; after all, she didn’t want a blush to give her previous fantasies away. In front of Zeke, her hair swung back and forth in its ponytail, pieces always sticking out in a haphazard fashion. She had given up on trying to manage her naturally wavy hair long ago. For a moment, she wondered if he noticed the difference in her hairstyle, when she wore it up or down. She wondered if he had a preference. Did he like girls with long hair? Maybe she should take it down instead? After all, it would hide her face a little more. Pieck reached up, loosening her hair tie to wrap around her wrist, shaking out her long, black hair in a way that she hoped seemed as casual as possible.

Zeke lingered behind for a few moments. As Pieck aged, she grew more and more perceptive, perhaps too perceptive for her own good. He would have to be careful about letting his guard down in front of her. The thought made him feel...sad? The only human (once Mr. Ksaver is gone) to ever care about his feelings, the only peer whom he shared a close camaraderie with, must be kept at an arm’s length away. Though in some way, it was to be expected, as the life of an Eldian was just one of suffering. He’d release all Eldians from these painful circumstances one day.

But until then…

“Hey, Piecky.” Zeke called after her. The girl turned her head at the sound of his voice, her hair cascading to one shoulder. 

“Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For listening. I know you’d be there if you could.”

The words, on surface level, were in reference to his upcoming Inheritance Ceremony. But for Zeke, it meant something much deeper than that. It meant that from now on, he would be his own obstacle that made him out of her reach.

Chapter Text

**CW// bullying, discrimination**

“How is it?” Annie inquired.

Reiner took a sip out of his mug. “Ooh! It’s too hot.”

“Well, duh, of course it is. It’s called hot chocolate.” Porco commented, rolling his eyes.

Bertholdt wrapped his hands around his own mug. “It tastes so good! I’ve never had anything like it!” 

The chosen future Warrior successors, plus one family member, gathered at their usual table for lunch. Today, however, was a special day, for a rare treat was being served in the form of a beverage called hot chocolate. Such an indulgence had never been offered within the Liberio internment zone, so they were all rushing to try it.

Well, all except one.

Marcel diverted his eyes over to the older dark-haired girl that was sitting beside him at the end of the table. Unlike the others, she had nothing in front of her, not even food. “Hey, Pieck. Aren’t you going to get some? They may run out soon.”

Pieck Finger turned her head at her name being mentioned, her long, disheveled hair fluttering around her. Her deep black-- or were they brown? -- eyes blinked slowly, as if she was waking up from a dream. True, she was interested in trying this new warm drink that everyone was so thrilled about. She was starting to have a taste for heated drinks, like coffee, and the idea of it being chocolate-flavored was enticing to her palette. However, her patience could handle the delay. There was something she was waiting for, or rather, someone.

“No, that’s all right, Marcel. I’ll get some later. You all enjoy,” she responded with a kind, sleepy smile.

“Isn’t it obvious? She’s waiting for Zeke, like she usually does.” Annie commented with a shrug.

Bertholdt glanced over to the girl that was sitting beside him, flashing her a sheepish smile. “Annie, remember, we have to call him ‘War Chief’ now.”

“Oh, right. That’ll take some getting used to. Do you think we’ll be as busy as he is once we become Warriors?”

The sound of the entrance door firmly opening disrupted any possible answers, for the young man that came through it commanded the attention of everyone in the room.

Ever since he became a Warrior, Zeke Yeager underwent an unheard-of physical transformation practically overnight. Disregarding that his still increasing height over the past year was the result of genetics, the current holder of the Beast Titan buffed out significantly and his shoulders broadened. It was noticeable in the brand new uniform he was sporting. He wore a tan single-breasted overcoat, cinched at the waist by a belt of fine brown leather that matched his pants, which were mostly concealed by durable, shiny black leather boots. His coat also sported military regalia: a golden Eldian pin on his lapel, as well as a military ribbon across his breast pocket, no doubt signifying his new rank. But, what everyone in the room most coveted was the singular red band that wrapped around his left arm.

Marcel was the only one who didn’t seem to be mesmerized; he quickly flagged him over. “Hey, War Chief! Over here!”

As Zeke was called over to the table, Pieck calmly rose from her seat. She watched him approach, being mindful to guard her expression into a mere pleasant smile. But that didn’t mean that she couldn’t appreciate the sight within the safety of her own mind. Zeke really was starting to look like the man that he would have to become: a confident and strong soldier, and a kind yet stern leader. Pieck saw it in the way he walked, and how he carried himself. She liked what she saw.

Zeke gave Marcel a wave as he walked over towards him, only for his path to be interrupted by a napkin falling at his feet.

The napkin was dropped by an older girl at another table, one of the remaining reserve candidates from the first generation, who pretended not to notice.

Pieck could see right through her silly charade, but that didn’t stop Zeke from bending down to pick it up and hand it to her. “Miss? I believe you dropped this.”

The girl accepted it graciously, feigning a look of surprise. “Oh! How clumsy of me. I didn’t even notice. Thank you, Zeke!”

As she watched the display, Pieck fought every instinct in her to roll her eyes. These little “accidents” of flirtation had been happening more often as Zeke grew older. Once he had achieved his red armband, the frequency had increased dramatically. Apparently, every female in the area seemed to notice the physical changes in the newest War Chief. Pieck was gaining renown as a genius of strategy, but even she couldn’t imagine doing something so incredibly silly just to gain a boy’s attention.

The table of girls suppressed their giggling from behind their hands as the blond finally made his way over to his destination.

Pieck allowed a hand to raise up to her brow as he approached. “Should I start saluting you now, War Chief? Or should we all start throwing white flags in surrender?” she asked in front of the group with a teasing tilt to her smile, causing the rest of the table to stifle a snicker.

Zeke tilted his chin down to shoot Pieck a look, causing the light in the room to reflect off of his round, silver glasses. “Not necessary, Piecky. Sorry I’m late. I had to get fitted for this new dress uniform.” He gave Pieck a pat on the shoulder before moving around the table to sit opposite of her. “Anything good today?”

She could still feel the lingering heat from his hand on her shoulder, no matter how brief the moment was. The black-haired girl smiled as she sat down in her seat once more, a new brightness in her countenance that made her usual sleepy countenance look less so. One thing that she was glad to have not changed in Zeke was his continued usage of that nickname: Piecky. It warmed Pieck’s heart that this new responsibility didn’t cause him to become more formal with her.

“In terms of food, it’s the usual for Tuesday: pork, kale, and potatoes,” she explained. “However, it seems they’ve decided to treat us to a dessert today. It’s called hot chocolate, a drink.” Pieck gestured to Bertholdt, who was tipping his mug up towards the ceiling to get the last few drops.

“Huh?” Zeke’s grey eyes widened ever so slightly as he whipped his head around to examine the mugs that the other five were holding. It was one of those rare, fleeting moments where he displayed his true youthfulness. He then turned back to Pieck, now noticing she had nothing in front of her. “You shouldn’t have waited for me again. There may not be a lot left. You go on ahead, Pieck, I got to take my coat off first. Commander Magath will wring my neck if I get this dirty.” The blond unfastened his belt before moving to the buttons. “I’ll catch up to you.”

Pieck nodded before walking towards the drink counter. She figured getting herself and Zeke glasses of water before her tray of food would be helpful. In addition, it would lead to less trips for the both of them. As she was selecting cups and filling them up with the cool water pitchers, she thought about Zeke’s chiding words. He knew that she always waited for them to be able to eat together, if given the chance. She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she didn’t notice the sound of footsteps behind her.

“Well well, girls, if it isn’t the slowpoke herself.”

Pieck turned to see the very same group of girls from earlier standing behind her, their arms crossed firmly under their busts. “I’m sorry?” she asked, confused as to why they were addressing her.

“Yes, I’m sure you are,” said the brunette with long hair. “At least, you always seem to look like that. Sorry, I mean. In a sorry state. After all, look at that hair.”

Pieck couldn’t help but blink owlishly up at the older girls while they snickered at their companion’s quip. She couldn’t understand why they were even up here, let alone talking to her. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”

“No, we haven’t, but isn’t it up to the younger generation to learn the names of their upperclassmen, Finger? Because we certainly know your name,” said the girl in the middle, the one who had dropped the napkin. Her hair was raven black, more luscious and smooth than Pieck’s own hair, Pieck couldn’t help but notice. “We had to watch you run those laps back when you were still training for your yellow armband, and boy, was that the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever seen.”

The younger girl looked down, feeling her cheeks start to burn. What did she care, what these older girls thought? She really didn’t need their approval; afterall, she knew that she was slow. It hadn’t bothered her before, and she had certainly proven herself to Magath. So why was the pace of her heart elevated, as if she was being hunted?

The napkin-dropper continued to speak. “So, Finger, what do you need two cups for? Just that thirsty, are you?” Her eyes flickered over to the candidates’ table, where Zeke was slipping his arms out from his coat. There was something in her eyes that Pieck couldn’t name, but she immediately decided that she didn’t like it.

“Maybe she’s getting one for the new War Chief?” the third girl simpered, her hair and stature shorter than the others, but still taller than Pieck. “You’ve seen the way she follows him around.”

“Yes, she looks like a little puppy!”

“No, not a puppy. You’re not cute like a puppy, are you, Finger? You look more like a ratty street dog with those eyes. You all know that old basset hound? The one the kids throw rocks at? You have the same eyes!”

“They really are quite creepy, you know,” the first girl said, crouching in front of Pieck to look at her downturned face. Pieck tried to take a step, to move out of their barrage of insults, but the girls moved in unison to block her path. She tried to see if anyone else was looking, but everyone in the cafeteria was too busy with their own conversations to notice the hushed exchange she was a part of.

“I know!” the leader announced, clapping her hands. “You’re like his shadow, aren’t you, Finger? You always follow him around, always behind him. I never see you walking next to him. He must find it annoying, you know.” The girl put an arm around Pieck’s shoulders, as if they were the best of friends. The pressure, however, told Pieck otherwise as the girl made her look at Zeke, who was putting his coat on the back of his chair, laughing at something that Porco had said. “He’s so bright, everything about him. His hair, his eyes… And you’re just dark, everything about you. Of course you can’t stand next to him. That’s what you’ll always be, you know, just Zeke’s creepy shadow.”

Something in Pieck’s chest dropped to the pit of her stomach as she watched Zeke laugh with their friends. Her mouth felt dry, and even the two glasses in her hands wouldn’t be able to help the feeling. But above all else, she didn’t want to let these unimportant girls see how their words were affecting her. She resolved that, at least here and now, they wouldn’t affect her. She ducked out from the girl’s arm, able to move a step away to turn on the group, and she put on her most pleasant smile.

“I’m sorry, you might have thought that my running was embarrassing. But thankfully, not everyone saw it that way. I think the most embarrassing thing would be to have run all of those laps and not get selected for a red armband for it, don’t you?” Pieck looked pointedly at the girls’ yellow pieces of cloth tied to their sleeves, eliciting a gasp of shock from the girls. “Guess I proved that looks aren’t everything. So maybe you should take less time on yours, or dropping napkins, and focus on your own other gifts. I have a future as an honorary Marleyan to look forward to. I wonder what yours will be?”

With that, Pieck turned on her heel, carrying her drinks far away from the girls left gasping in shock. She didn’t let her gentle smile falter as she crossed the cafeteria to set the drinks down in front of hers’ and Zeke’s spots. Despite her façade, her heart was pounding, echoing in her ears.

Zeke had just finished putting his armband on his shirt sleeve when he saw Pieck walk away from the group of girls and place the water glasses on the table. “Ready.” He gave Pieck a smile, seemingly not detecting anything amiss as of yet. The blond gestured with his head for her to follow him up to the cafeteria line, grabbing a tray for each of them. Each of them were served their meal, but as they reached the self-serve dessert section, no liquid came out of the drink dispenser. Zeke let out a sigh, expressing brief disappointment before laughing it away. “Guess we have to settle for some bitter leaf water, huh?” He joked, gesturing a thumb over to the tea. As he began to get their mugs, his grey eyes glanced over to the table of girls, and then back to Pieck. “Are those friends of yours?”

Pieck’s eyes darted to the table of girls before moving back to look at Zeke. She adopted a look of vague confusion. “No, I don’t think so. Why? Aren’t they from your year?” she questioned, trying to seem as uninterested as possible.

“Yeah, they are. I just saw you talking to them is all.” He set down both of the mugs on each of their respective trays before nudging her with his elbow. “I didn’t know if I was getting replaced.” Zeke was mostly joking, but something the both of them shared in common was a disinterest (or was it difficulty) in making friends. If Pieck did so, he’d be happy for her, but it would be out-of-character, to say the least.

“Friends? With them?” Pieck replied, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. She took a deep breath; she shouldn’t let their words get to her. “As if I could replace you. Who would understand my brand of humor, if not you? Or continue our bets? You still haven’t caught up yet, you know. Ninety-six to ninety-three.” She nudged him with her elbow in return, careful not to spill their trays.

Zeke’s eyes narrowed; if they are not her friends, what did they want with her? He chose not to voice his question. “Yeah yeah, I’m closing the gap, and that’s what matters. And you better not go easy on me just because I’m now going to be your superior, Finger.”

The pair joined the rest of the table and began to eat while listening to the others converse. But eventually their discussion deteriorated into a confrontation. Zeke only caught half of the conversation.

“I don’t see why it matters.” Annie fixed her eyes on Porco. “Since your brother is inheriting the Jaw, you’ll still get a red armband anyways. You’ll still be an Honorary Marleyan.”

“You’re missing the point!” Porco raised his voice, gritting his teeth.

“Don’t talk to Annie like that!” Reiner yelled back.

Bertholdt let out a nervous laugh. “Hey, let’s just calm down.”

Marcel then interjected to grab everyone’s attention. “How about we clean up our trays? We have time to kill before we need to report next.” 

As their future leader, Zeke spent a great deal of time observing his younger peers, assessing their strengths and weaknesses. One of Marcel’s strengths was de-escalation. He had no doubt he would eventually be Vice Chief one day.

The rest of the gang cleaned up their side of the table before saying their goodbyes to Zeke and Pieck. Now left alone, Zeke noticed Pieck had barely eaten any of her food. Something was up, but he wouldn’t ask. If he asked questions, especially personal ones, then he’d get questions in return. Instead, maybe he could take a page out of Marcel’s book and offer a distraction. He noticed that Pieck was forlornly staring at a leftover mug of hot chocolate, the contents now lukewarm. The blond leaned over towards the center of the table as he lowered his voice to a whisper.

“Hey, you want to go get hot chocolate?”

His words snapped Pieck out of her distracted state. She looked over at him, then the cafeteria counter, and then back. “But they’re all out for today. We’ll have to wait until next time they decide to treat us.”

“They’re not out of it outside the internment zone.” Zeke kept his voice to a whisper as he tapped the red band on his arm. “What good is this if I can’t use it for the perks it provides? As long as we make it look like I am escorting you, I can just say it’s on official business.” The blond wasn’t sure if Pieck would agree. She may have found it to be too risky, but he did have an ace up his sleeve that would sweeten the deal. “Bets on you are too chicken to go.” Zeke leaned back into his chair and crossed his arms. Would he take an immediate loss just to cheer her up? There is no question about it.

Pieck bit her lower lip as she pondered her options. Zeke’s plan was slightly risky, if the lack of true purpose of their visit was discovered. In addition, she still only had a yellow armband. The ruse was more risky for her, in particular. However, the words of the upperclassmen girls from earlier rang in her ears. They had said Zeke found her annoying, as if she was a childish tagalong. Would he offer this plan if that were true?

A competitive, eager grin lit up her features as she decided to trust her best friend. “Ninety-seven, Yeager. Shall we?” Pieck stood up from her seat, shoving one more bite of food into her mouth before picking up her tray.

Just as he thought, as expected of Pieck. Zeke quickly rose to his feet and put his overcoat back on. Once his red armband was readjusted, he picked up his tray and returned it before leaving the cafeteria with Pieck. The pair had no words to exchange as they made haste to the gates of the internment zone. When one of the two guards caught sight of them, he gave them a wave.

“Well if it isn’t the Boy Wonder himself. Back so soon? Where are you heading, Yeager?

“Good afternoon, Mr. Weber!” As if it were an on-off switch, Zeke used his charisma and charm to their fullest potential whenever it benefitted him. Nowadays, he didn’t need an explanation to leave, but he had to make up a legitimate sounding excuse as to why he needed Pieck to come along with him. “I hate to be such a bother, but it seems I have left some important belongings behind at my doctor’s visit this morning, and I need them for my meeting with the Commander later today.” He gave a sheepish smile as he scratched the back of his neck. “I’m still feeling a bit lightheaded, so Miss Finger has been assigned to monitor my condition to my destination and back.”

Any commoner would fall for Zeke’s deception, and Mr. Weber was no exception. “Right. Those doctors really should extend your observation period before letting you go.” He commented, opening the gate for them to pass. “Make it quick.”

Zeke gave him a nod, as well as his thanks, before placing his hand on Pieck’s upper back and ushering her through the gates. Once through, the blond gave Pieck a wink, signaling their ruse had worked.

Pieck kept up her neutral expression until they were out of the gate guards’ sight. Once they were unseen, she couldn’t help but look slyly over to Zeke. “Excellent job, War Chief. If you start to feel lightheaded, feel free to lean on me. I know how exhausting those doctor’s appointments can be.”

After Zeke had inherited the Beast Titan, Pieck had noticed these doctor’s appointments had increased in frequency. She knew that he was special, and that the Marleyans were excited about some tests involving him. He never appeared to be injured, necessarily, upon his return. He did, however, move stiffly, as if quick movements were too much for him. It was a wise choice for Zeke to make these appointments his cover story. No one would ask too many questions.

“Lean on you? Are you sure you want to offer that?” He questioned with a smirk. Suddenly, Zeke stopped moving forward and shifted to collapse his upper body entirely onto Pieck, as if fainting. “Oh no, I’m suddenly having an allergic reaction to gravity from being too tall! Help, Piecky! It’s pull is just too strong!” With each dramatic sentence, Zeke gradually increased the body weight he was putting onto the girl next to him, threatening to topple her over. “I can’t go on like this! It’s too heavy!”

“Ugh!”

The younger girl lurched as Zeke threw his weight on top of her. The image of it was so ludicrous that she couldn’t help but start laughing. The War Chief, leader of the Titan Shifters, fooling around in such a fashion. Pieck threw her hands out to her sides, trying to balance herself as he continued to increase the weight.

“Zeke! Stop that! You’re being--urk--silly! There’s nothing wrong with--oof--with gravity!” she managed to say in between bursts of giggles. Her back started to ache as he increased the weight, her excessive laughter making her knees start to buckle. Pieck started to try pushing him off of her. He wiggled out of her way, and her hands came to press against his chest. “You’re supposed to be almost an adult now! If you keep this up, you might actually--ack!--crush me!”

Zeke couldn’t help but laugh in response as he let up off his act and resumed to a standing position. “Nonsense. I would never do that.” As Zeke straightened his back, he felt a sudden sharp tenderness along a section of his spine. It was no doubt a side effect from the repetitive spinal taps he had undergone, but it was information that was currently confidential to Pieck. He winced, rubbing at it for a moment before continuing to walk.

“Anyways, I know of a café that’s just a couple of blocks from here. They have to have hot chocolate. Just stick close to me and no one should bother you or ask questions.”

The girl nodded, allowing herself to step closer as she followed behind him. As always, Pieck found the position comfortable, a place she had walked for years now. She was able to see things, seemingly small things that usually went unnoticed by others. Over the years of doing so, she had gotten very good at it. She observed the dynamics between a group of Marleyan children while they played. She detected the subtle look of affection between a shopkeeper as a repeat customer. She noticed the twinge Zeke seemed to feel earlier, the touch to his back, and she filed all of the information away for later. 

Shadow .

Pieck looked down, seeing exactly where she was walking. Due to the position of the sun, she had, in fact, been walking in the outline of Zeke’s body cast down onto the ground. Did she always want to be walking in his shadow? Forever looking at his back, as if he was always just ahead and out of her reach?

Pieck reprimanded herself for being dramatic and chalked it up to her teenage years. She took a deep breath and decided. A few quick steps brought her next to her companion. “You said that it’s a few blocks away from here, right? Have you gone to this café before?”

Zeke looked down at her as he shook his head. “I haven’t, but I’ve passed by it a few times.” 

Their surroundings changed as they walked farther away from Liberio. Planters lined the outside under the front windows of houses, all having well maintained flowers. The streets were cleaned and finished with not a crack in the sidewalk. There was a park across the street with the lushest, greenest grass and an expansive playground that the two would only have ever played on in their dreams. There were few Marleyans on the street at this hour in this part of the city, but those seen had high-quality, clean clothes. Although they kept their distance from Zeke and Pieck, they didn’t say anything to them that would make them feel unwelcome. In fact, they pretended not to notice them.

“So... “ Pieck mused as they walked. “It sounds like more people are becoming aware of how special you are, Boy Wonder.” She couldn’t help but smirk up at him, a teasing tone to her voice. Pieck herself had never used the nickname. She thought there was something amusing about it. “I didn’t think that the gate guards would be calling you that. They should be careful; they’ll make your ego bigger than it already is.”

“Hah, not you too.” Zeke let out a singular huff of laughter, lifting his right hand to scratch at his left ear. “It’s something the Marleyan military is pumping out to its citizens, as well as our allies and enemies, to signify the brilliance and might of the reimagined Warrior Program. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting to become a combat Titan, as the Beast has not been used for such a role before.” The blond smiled. “The training tests have been fun so far though! It’s probably the closest I’ll get to feeling like I’m in a real game of baseball.” Zeke had always wanted to play on a team, just like in all the stories Mr. Ksaver would tell him of how the game is truly played.

“But enough about me,” as per usual, Zeke would not focus on himself for long, “ someone I know will be inheriting the Cart soon. From what I know already of the other Titans, you are perfect for it.” Zeke sincerely was excited for her, as it meant her father could finally receive proper medical treatment, but that excitement also came with dread. She officially had an expiration date: 28-years-old.

“Thank you. I am very happy about it,” she replied, watching another shopkeeper as she spoke. “As you know, it is a great honor to be chosen, and I think you’re right. I think I will suit the Cart Titan well, from what I know.” The look on Pieck’s face changed. As she spoke of her accomplishment, her face had lit up. After all, Zeke knew firsthand how hard she had worked. But as she continued, that light faded, and her smile contained another emotion. “I think that my father has some mixed feelings about it. I think that there was a small part of him that hoped that I wouldn’t be chosen. I understand his concerns... but it’s for the best.”

Zeke’s mind flashed back to something he said during their first meeting many years ago. “So you want to bargain for his already well-lived years of life by limiting yourself to thirteen? I doubt he likes that math.” 

Zeke was right then, and he was right now. Though now he could say he didn’t like the math either. She had so much to give, and Marley would selfishly take it all.

“Well, just like the advice you gave me not too long ago, if you’re having second thoughts, I’m sure Porco would be more than happy to take your place,” Zeke said jokingly. Truthfully, it didn’t surprise him that Porco wasn’t chosen. He was too hot-headed and impulsive. That impulsivity would get him in trouble on the battlefield one day.

A wry chuckle left Pieck’s mouth. “Even if I was having second thoughts, I think that it’s too late now. I’ve come too far to turn back.” She knew that she didn’t need to list out all that she had done over the years; he had been a witness to it all. “Plus, Porco would make a terrible Cart Titan.”

Zeke had to stifle a laugh as they rounded the corner. “Ah, here it is.” As they approached the storefront, the blond lowered his voice once more. “Just let me do all the talking, okay?” The older boy placed his hand on the door handle. “Normally, I’d open the door for you, but it’s best if you stay behind me.”

And with that Zeke opened the door, tripping a small bell that sounded their presence. Unlike any café in Liberio, this one had brand new furnishings, a fresh coat of paint, and the shelves and display cases were fully stocked with ingredients, gourmet desserts, and pastries, some of which the pair have never seen before. The café was empty, which made sense at this hour, as it was after the lunch rush.

The shopkeeper did not notice Zeke until he approached the counter. Once seeing his band, he greeted him with a pursed smile. “Good afternoon, young man. What can I get for you today?”

“Two hot chocolates, please.” Zeke ordered with a smile.

At the mention of two, the shopkeeper diverted his gaze to finally notice Pieck, who due to her small stature, her head just barely cleared the high countertop. “Sure thing. That’ll be 45 pfennigs please.”

Pieck’s eyes widened. That was a lot more than she was expecting. Everything was more expensive outside the internment zone.

Zeke handed him over some coins with no issue and after completing the transaction, the man started to move to make their drinks. “Have a seat. I’ll bring them out to you.”

Zeke guided Pieck over to a table that he carefully selected after surveying the room. It was out of line of sight from the storefront windows, but not too far away from the door so that way they could leave promptly. He took a seat, gesturing for Pieck to sit in the vacant chair opposite of him.

Pieck folded her hands on top of the gleaming tabletop, looking at her surroundings. “What a beautiful place. Everything looks prettier than in picture books,” she said, glancing at the dessert display case once more. “I’m glad that you suggested this.” Then she lifted up her hand to her mouth in a conspiratorial whisper. “Also, I can pay you back… I never knew hot chocolate would be so expensive.”

Zeke held up a hand in protest. “Don’t worry about it. My treat.” He would prefer she saved her money for more pressing matters. Only a few minutes passed by before the cafe owner came back with the drinks. “Here you are, sir,” he set Zeke’s drink down in front of him before turning to Pieck, “and the other f--” The man stopped his sentence short as he took a few steps backwards, acting as if he was in danger of catching some viral disease. “Get the hell out of my store, you Eldian demons!” The words he spat were laced with utter hatred.

Zeke stiffened, though he remained as calm as ever. “We are allowed to be here, sir.”

“Yeah, you are.” The man pointed at Zeke’s red armband. “That trash is not!” He then drifted his hand to point at Pieck’s yellow band. “I didn’t get a good look when you came in. I assumed she was your sister, but no, she’s dirtying my table with her filthy hands.”

“We have authorization to be out.” Zeke replied with the same calm affect as before.

“I don’t fucking care! Get the fuck up off my chair, get your girlfriend, and get out of my god damn store!” The man was now screaming, his spit spraying across the room like venom.

Zeke stood after a second of painful silence, the smile still spread across his face. He knew now was not a time to correct or argue with the man. “Very well, sir. We will take our drinks and be on our way.” The blond held out his hand to take the cup from the man.

The owner only recoiled. “No, not when I know this one is going to that little bitch.”

“But I’ve paid for it, and my money is just as good here as anyone else’s.”

The man stormed over to the counter, only to rip off the lid and pour it down the sink. He then crushed the cup in his hand, only to throw it directly at Pieck. Pieck recoiled as the paper cup hit her chest, spraying a few remnant drops of the brown drink on her uniform and chin.

“GET THE FUCK OUT BEFORE I CALL THE POLICE, ELDIAN SWINE!!”

Zeke wouldn’t protest anymore. He picked up his cup, murmured “let’s go, Pieck,” under his breath, and exited out of the establishment, holding the door open for the girl and closing it quickly behind him. 

Pieck could feel the swell of burning red shame rise up over her features as she walked out into the deceptively sunny day. The shame rose up like a wall, heavy and solid, crushing her spirit from inside of her mind. She started to walk, the clacking of her shoes on the pavement reminding her of her steps. She wanted to sprint away from the nasty names and the embarrassment that she had faced. Every Eldian had been called things like that: unclean, trash, swine, devils and demons. It was something she was used to, as sad as that was.

Her ears started to ring, her own black thoughts becoming all that she could hear. She thought of how that man had looked at her, how his politeness had turned on a dime. She thought about the drink hitting her, and suddenly, the girls’ words from earlier echoed in her mind.

You all know that old basset hound? The one the kids throw rocks at?

It hadn’t been a rock, but the pain of the rejection felt worse than a boulder.

Pieck’s feet carried her to a nearby small square with a fountain in the middle. She sat down on the stone ledge of the fountain, putting her head between her knees while her vision swam. She closed her eyes as she listened to the spray of the water behind her. Maybe those girls were right. Perhaps she was annoying, just a tagalong, still running after Zeke like a child. If Zeke hadn’t brought her here, if he had come on his own, he would have been able to sip his hot chocolate all that he pleased. He would have had a delightful afternoon without her. She didn’t deserve to be there with him. She was dark, creepy even, from her hair to her eyes, all the way down to her posture. Even the shopkeeper had thought that she was his sister at the very beginning, before her armband had given her away. Is that what Zeke thought of her? Just like a little sister? For some reason, out of all of the insults that she had endured throughout the day, that one seemed the worst, and Pieck couldn’t understand why.

Zeke had initially tried to get her attention as he followed her out, but she seemed lost in her own mind, right up to when she set down on the ledge of a fountain. “Pieck…?” And then he heard it; the sound of sniffling. Pieck was crying. In the seven years that they had known each other, Pieck had never cried in front of him, not once. Zeke knew, in theory, that when someone cried, it was best to give that person comfort. Except, he didn’t know how. The only person who had ever comforted him was Mr. Ksaver, and it wasn’t enough for him to be confident in it. But he was the one who got her into this mess, so he had to do something.

With a sigh and his cup in hand, Zeke sat down beside her. “Hey, Piecky,” he began, his voice soft as he placed his free hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. This was my idea. This was all my fault. I didn’t mean for it to happen this way. I should have just gone and brought it back myself.”

His words snapped Pieck out of her downward spiral of thinking. Her eyes tried to focus through the watery haze of tears, seeing his own large boot next to her shoe. “N-No, it’s not your fault. You were...trying to do something nice.” She sniffed and straightened up, trying so hard to smile at him through the small tears that kept streaming down her face. “It wasn’t you who threw things at me. I’m sorry I...made you feel like you had to treat me.”

“You didn’t make me do anything. Everything I do is because I decided it for myself.” Zeke wasn’t sure if he should bring attention to her crying. Should he distract her with something else? His grey eyes shifted, noticing small brown stains speckled on her chin and the top of her white shirt. It must have come from when the man threw the cup at her. Zeke reached into his inside pocket, pulling out a small white handkerchief while also setting down his cup of untouched hot chocolate onto the fountain ledge. “I got you in quite the mess, didn’t I?” He dipped the handkerchief into the water, only to then kneel down in front of her. “As your War Chief, I take full responsibility, and I can’t have anyone making my Warriors not look and feel their best.” The older boy gently started to wipe away the stains on Pieck’s shirt. He then slowly shifted his hand upwards to clean off her face with a tenderness to his movements, also getting her tears in the process. “Besides, I’m sure it doesn’t taste that good to begin with--definitely overhyped.” Zeke gave her a smile as he pushed damp pieces of hair out of her face, the strands clinging to her skin from her tears. “There.” Zeke looked over his handiwork with a definitive nod, pocketing the handkerchief and rising to his feet. “Good as new.”

Pieck had stayed perfectly still, a statue of surprise, for the entire time that Zeke was cleaning off her face. Given, she had never cried in front of him, but Zeke had never spoken to her so gently or with such care. She felt something swell in her chest, a warmth and sweetness that she only remembered feeling a few select times. Was this what drinking hot chocolate would have felt like? She looked into his eyes, although his gaze was directed elsewhere. Would he always be this kind to her? Or would this care eventually be extended to someone else? Pieck couldn’t help but think of the girl with the long, black hair from earlier and compare herself to her. She looked like everything that Pieck was not, or was she just a prettier version of Pieck. Would Zeke someday take a girl like that with him to get hot chocolate? The sweetness she felt a moment ago turned bitter in an instant as she thought about it.

But as Zeke pulled away and smiled at her, she couldn’t help but shove those worries away. She didn’t need to be beautiful to be beneficial to Zeke. It was her mind and wit that he and Marley valued. No matter what happened, she hoped that she could still stand behind him. She wanted to help him just as he had helped her today. She would be all right with becoming his shadow. It was her quiet help that would help him to become the brightest Warrior that Marley had ever seen.

With renewed confidence in herself, Pieck smiled once more. “Thanks. And I’m sure you’re right,” she murmured. “I’m sure the hot chocolate tastes terrible.”

Zeke felt…was it relief? He was relieved that his comforting strategy worked. The blond gestured for Pieck to follow him as he picked up the cup. He headed to the closest trash can, spotting a folded up newspaper on top. He pocketed it, figuring he could flash it to serve as the “belongings” he was supposed to be retrieving. His next order of business was to throw away the cup of hot chocolate before heading back to the gate; it wasn’t even worth sharing at this point, not after their experience. “Yeah, I think the others clearly don’t have as mature tastes as us senior Warriors. I mean, how good could it be?” Zeke questioned, picking up the cup to quickly take a large swig. Unfortunately for him, he always forgot to blow on anything hot first before impulsively consuming a mouthful. He winced and pursed his lips, lurching forward to flick the cup into the garbage.

“Ow!! Hot!!”

Chapter Text

Magath extended his metal pointing tool with one swift fluid motion, tapping it within the palm of his hand as he spoke. “We have received intel from multiple sources of an uprising taking place along our Southeastern border.” Magath then moved to tap his pointer against the aforementioned area on the large geography map up on the briefing board. “This piece of land was annexed three years ago by the Warrior unit, but its civilians have maintained a loyalty to their former nation. As a result, they have slowly snuck in military soldiers, vehicles, and weapons into the area and pushed our military occupation and previously installed leaders out. The Mid-East is looking to re-annex this part of their land, but Marley will not allow such an embarrassment to occur on our soil.”

The Commander then moved several paces to point at a battlemap board. “The Beast will be stationed here. Your objective is to take a ranged offensive and wipe out their numbers using your pitching assault. The Cart, equipped with the Panzer Unit, will act as the Beast’s shadow and provide coverage to protect the Beast from the line of fire.” Magath then dragged the pointer along a dotted red line on the map. “Under absolutely no circumstances will you cross this designated zone, as your Titans are not suitable for close combat. This area is also prone to geyser activity, so watch your step.” Magath then moved back towards his desk, placing his hands down onto its surface. “Mission time from start of incursion should be no longer than ninety minutes.” He paused. “Any questions?” His eyes darted between the two younger soldiers that were sitting on the opposite side of his desk.

“When will the mission be marked as a completion?” Pieck spoke up, her dark eyes studying the battlemap.

“As soon as Yeager takes out their ships and cannons, our ground troops can go in and press them to retreat.”

The War Chief gave a swift nod to the Commander. “Understood, sir. The Warrior Unit will ensure a swift victory for Marley.”

. . .

Zeke always found war to be a terrible thing. From the loud noises, to the screams, the smoke, the blood, and the smell of gunpowder and death, he hated being a part of it. Mr. Ksaver was never used for assault, so he was never able to offer any guidance in the matter.

The blond took a deep breath as he willed the large right hand of the Beast downward to pick up and crush a large boulder into gravel. He only found one coping strategy to be effective during times such as these: pretend it was all a game.

As he looked out towards the city’s skyline, he imagined a catcher, relaying a sign for a certain type of pitch. Zeke shook his head no until he pretended to agree with the imagined call. “Here’s the windup…” He brought his hands together as he lifted his left knee high across his body. “And the pitch…” Zeke pushed off, driving his left leg forward and planting his foot before throwing with his right arm. He watched the collection of rocks fly forward at an astronomical speed as he completed his form, his momentum sending his right leg high in the air. Everyone else saw a spraying of shrapnel absolutely decimating the city’s horizon, but to Zeke, all he saw was a perfect pitch.

“Strike! What a fastball; there was a lot of heat on that one! And the crowd goes wild!” The opposing army was screaming out in agony, but Zeke dissociated just enough to interpret it as cheers for the Home Team. An unsettling smile spread across the Beast’s face as he turned to his comrade. “Did you see that, Pieck?!”

The Cart Titan emerged, stationed on a low hill a couple meters back from Zeke himself. As ordered by Magath, Pieck had been outfitted with her full armor and the Panzer Unit’s gear. Four individual pods with a long-range machine gun each weighed down her quadrupedal-form, held aloft by an intense rigging of braces strapped to her midriff. Through the eyes of the Cart, Pieck looked out over the battlefield.

“Yes, a perfect strike, War Chief,” she responded lightly. Her eyes scanned the horizon as she saw military tanks from the opposing side emerge through the cloud of dust left by Zeke’s assault. “Now don’t get too cocky, you haven’t earned your… what was it called? A strikeout--? Watch your two o-clock, Carlo!”

The Cart quickly moved forward three paces, allowing one of Pieck’s Panzer unit soldiers to quickly decimate an approaching unit of foot soldiers. The blast triggered a further explosion and Pieck sighed with relief; the group had been carrying some sort of bomb towards the Beast. She took her job as “Zeke’s Shadow” very seriously now. The nickname had been uncomfortable to have initially, given that it dragged up some less desirable memories. However, Magath and the other Marleyan elite had adopted it to describe her position to protect Zeke, and over the years, she had started to develop a fondness for the moniker and made it her very own.

Pieck moved forward to gaze up at the towering Beast Titan. “I think it’s time,” she said in the Cart Titan’s low, rumbling voice, “for another pitch, Chief Yeager.”

“Thank you, Pieck.” With Pieck providing him backup, it made it easier for him to focus on his attack without needing to watch his own back. His hand seized another boulder, squeezing it tightly to break it. As his eyes adjusted back to the city, he once again escaped to the theatre of his mind. He took a breath as he saw his imaginary catcher shift their glove to the right for his second throw. “Hm, an inside pitch…” The Beast’s red eyes caught something out of the corner of his eye; a few enemy tanks were attempting to flank their left side. “Trying to steal second, huh?” Zeke suddenly threw a side arm over to first base, knocking out the tanks in one hit. “Ha, out! Back to the dugout you go.” The Beast bent down to pick up another ball. “That’s one out. Two more and this inning is over.” He took a breath, refocusing himself as he began moving through his windup.

Pieck turned her body to allow her team a few more shots against the enemy, attempting not to roll her eyes at their leader. Over the years, Zeke’s interest and reliance on the sport of baseball only seemed to grow. She had picked up a few terms from him here and there, but she was still at a loss as to what the “dugout” was, or why people would steal something during the game, unless that was one way of winning the game. She understood why he chose to think of the battles as a game. It was much easier to think that way, rather than reflect on the loss of life you had caused. 

Far off, Pieck could see more dust being kicked up into the air. She squinted against the sun’s glare to see what was causing it. “Perhaps you should take a look at your ten o’clock, Chief. It looks like a new platoon is arriving.”

Zeke had already extended his left leg when he heard Pieck. “Hmm?” His eyes darted to his left, losing his focus on the strike zone. By the time he saw the cannon through the cloud of dust, it was already too late. “Pieck!! On my left--!” The cannon fired as Zeke simultaneously changed the trajectory of his throw, pitching another sidearm into the left flank. Although it hit his new target, it did not stop the projectile that was already coming straight for him. The Beast was one of the slowest of Marley’s Titans, so Zeke knew there would be no way to dodge it. Instead, he turned to have his left side facing the front, gritted his teeth, and braced for impact.

A roar cut through the atmosphere as the cannonball sliced through the Beast’s left shoulder. “Gnngh!” Zeke grimaced, watching the blood spray across his line of vision. The cannonball finished traveling its course, whizzing right above Pieck and the Panzer Unit before burrowing into the mountain behind them.

From inside her Titan, Pieck gasped in horror as the new wound dripped down the Beast’s arm. Pieck’s eyes darted from Zeke, to the two armies, her brain working rapidly to assess the situation. Zeke was lucky that the projectile wasn’t a few meters to the side. He would need time to recover, and as she watched another long line of tanks emerge from the debris cloud, she knew that this was time that neither of them had.

“Panzer Unit!” she commanded, her voice laced with authority. “We’re moving in to protect the Beast! Prepare for close-range!”

“Wait! Miss Pieck, we have a problem!”

Pieck grit her teeth, the massive Titan’s jaw crunching in frustration. “Bruno, what is it?! We have no time-”

“It’s the guns, ma’am!” the blond screamed. “Carlo’s is jammed, and us front-gunners are out of ammo!”

Shit.

From within the Titan, Pieck clenched her eyes shut against the noise of battle, willing her mind to move quicker. She had to solve this. The Panzer Unit took an average of four minutes to completely reload the large machine guns, and that was usually not when an army was approaching. Stress made for a lack of dexterity, even in the most practiced of soldiers, and that stress could lead to mistakes. In that case, six to seven minutes was what it would take to reload. That didn’t even take the jammed gun into consideration. Carlo would be a sitting duck from within if she brought them into close combat and he couldn’t return fire. She wouldn’t put her unit at risk like that, and she needed to do her job. She didn’t have six minutes. She had to protect Zeke.

There was no other option.

“Everyone, you stay here! I’m going in to draw their fire!”

Pieck closed her eyes, ignoring the calls of “What are you doing?!” and “Don’t do this!” from her unit. She willed herself to surface through the nape of her Titan, right underneath the Panzer’s Equipment. Hopping down from her former shell with a grunt, Pieck’s boots hit the ground hard, sending shocks through her legs as she sprinted down the hill and onto the battlefield.

Zeke steadied himself after the hit. If there was one thing he was thankful for, it was the fact that the Beast at least had a hefty amount of endurance. As long as his right arm was still functional, he could still attack. He turned to pick up another rock, only to see what appeared to be a small human running across the field and out in front of him. Is that….Is that Pieck?

Her off-white coat tails sailed behind her as Pieck dodged past boulders and bullets. The young woman lifted her left hand to her mouth, fighting against human survival’s urge to avoid pain as she bit into her hand. As the blood was shed, a louder explosion was heard as a new Cart Titan erupted in front of the tanks. Pieck knew that she had to be careful; in this new form, she didn’t have the armor that stayed behind with her first Titan form. She used a hand to swat at two tanks, flipping them over before breaking out of her Titan, leaving it as a lure. She dismounted, retreating from the new spray of bullets. She ran a hard left, effectively drawing the fire away from the Beast. Pieck couldn’t help but smile as she raised her hand to her mouth once more; it was working!

Zeke watched in awe as Pieck shifted multiple times. The Beast took up so much of his energy that it was something he was incapable of doing. His Titan’s red eyes followed the Cart, and it only took a few moments for her plan to dawn on him. She was being a decoy; how recklessly brilliant.

“As expected of Pieck…” He mused aloud, the words sounding in the Beast’s deep, gravelly voice. He took the opportunity to quickly crush some more stones. It would have to be quick pitch, focused on aiming on the inside of the strike zone. Zeke fired quickly, causing the rocks to spray out in a deadly assault on the enemy forces.

Pieck looked on from the ground level as the tanks and soldiers were decimated in front of her, her tired eyes wide as she took it all in. Boulders punched through metal as if it were no more than wet rice paper. They were left unmoving, like overly enlarged discarded shells of cicadas. Bodies littered the ground in odd positions and angles, like a doll dropped to the floor after their owner was done playing with it.

She didn’t have time for this. A gust of wind swept across the battlefield, and her hair tie was blown away with the gust. Brushing her loose hair away from her face, Pieck bit her hand for what felt like the hundredth time. In her Titan form, she walked forward, lowering her nose like a rhinoceros to upturn yet another tank. She heard a squadron to her right, preparing to fire her way to get rid of her personal assault. There was some sort of steam in front of them; was it one of the geysers Magath had mentioned?

“I won’t let that happen,” she muttered, beginning her charge in a direct line. Pieck wove left and right as they fired their rounds. She counted the seconds, calculating the precise moment when they would have to reload. A hesitation in the staccato rhythm signalled the stop of the barrage.  She lined her Titan form up directly in front of them, stopping their access towards the Beast, and popped out in her human form once more. It was perfect! All she had to do now was run over to their flank and take them out--

“NOW!”

Just as Pieck’s feet hit the ground, she knew something was wrong. The ground shifted under her feet. She had miscalculated.

It happened in an instant. Zeke watched in horror as the ground ruptured from underneath her, her body flying backwards from the blast. “PIECK!” The Beast roared her name. He had to act quickly. The bearer of the Cart Titan could not heal as quickly as the others, so she was definitely down for the count. He could not allow the enemy to take her as a hostage, or worse, kill her. A cruel expression spread across the War Chief’s face as he crushed two boulders within each of his hands. He would ruin them all. The Beast crossed his arms over his chest, only to quickly fling them outwards, spraying the rocks to not only hit the closest of the enemy’s forces, but to also kick up as much dirt as possible. He needed plenty of coverage for what he was about to do next.

As soon as he completed his throw, Zeke emerged from his Titan, ripping his arms out from the ligaments they were bound to. He slid down the Beast’s shell quickly, hoping it would serve as an additional decoy. He ran as fast he could through the dust, keeping his eyes on his feet so as to not repeat Pieck’s dire mistake. Zeke’s grey eyes scanned the area while he suppressed the urge to cough. She should be here. Where is she? Where is she? He will not lose her. She still had so much time left. She still had so much more to offer.

The flowing river of his racing thoughts dammed up to a stillness as he saw the outline of a petite frame, lying motionless on the ground. He hurried over, dropping to his knees to quickly examine her. “Pieck! I’m here. Are you awake?!”

It was immediately evident that she was in bad shape. A large wound pierced her side, her uniform dyed red from the hit. Due to the landmine she had stepped on, her leg had been scorched. It was a miracle that it hadn’t been blown clear off of her body, but she was obviously in no shape to walk on her own. At the sound of Zeke’s voice, he watched as her eyelids, caked with dust, ever so slowly opened. It was as if the smallest of movements caused her more effort than moving a mountain. Her brow wrinkled as her eyes focused.

“You...fool…”

She coughed, the dust from the explosion making its way into her lungs. She made a shaky attempt to sit up, looking at the damage done to her own body. Pieck let out a humorless chuckle.

“Looks like… I might have to sit this marathon out, War Chief…”

Zeke knew Pieck would chastise him for coming after her. After all, her assignment was to protect him, and now they were both in danger. “Stop that, Piecky. I won’t allow it. We got one more lap to do.” Zeke placed his hands under her arms, bringing her up to as much of a standing position as she could tolerate. The blond then draped her torso over his shoulders, hoisting her up into a fireman’s carry. He hooked his right arm in between her legs in order to then grip onto her right wrist that was dangling across his chest, securing her to his person. “I’m getting us out of here.”

Zeke took off as fast as he could without running the risk of tripping. The dirt had time to mingle in the air, making it difficult to get any sense of direction or to find his bearings. Through the dust, he was able to make out some landmarks that told him he was heading in the right direction.

Unable to escape to the baseball field of his imagination, he was fully exposed to the sound of loud explosions in the distance, flashes of light, and bullets whizzing past his head. The ground shook underneath him with each step and having his back to the enemy made him feel blind and uneasy, but he willed himself forward.

All Zeke had to do was make it back to Marley territory and find coverage. If he could get back to his Beast shell, even better. That way he could continue the offensive while Pieck rested and--

BOOM! 

A wild shell landed ten feet to their right, causing an explosion of dirt and debris. The blast made Zeke lose his footing, causing the pair to both topple to the ground. The fall knocked not only the wind out of him, but the glasses off of his face. He felt around until he found them, quickly cleaning them off before putting them back on. Zeke scanned the area; the dust from his last throw was starting to settle. He had to hurry.

“C’mon, Pieck.” He made a move to pick her back up, but froze as he heard the yells of a language that wasn’t his own. They were close. They had no choice but to hide. About twenty feet away, Zeke noticed a rather large rock formation that had a small cave opening at the bottom. That would have to do. He dragged Pieck through the dirt as quickly as he could. Panting heavily by the time he reached their hiding spot, Zeke noticed that it wasn’t a cave, it was a hole. Was this a geyser that Magath warned them about? He didn’t have any more time to debate. Whatever was at the bottom, their bodies would survive it.

“Don’t scream.” Zeke warned Pieck as he wrapped his left arm around her middle and his right hand over her mouth. In one fluid motion, he fell backwards into the hole, the both of them dropping into the darkness.

Pieck had been barely aware of herself as Zeke ran her through the field. Between the pain and the shock, it was hard to stay completely coherent. But her consciousness came back in vivid realism as she felt her body falling. She let out the smallest of yelps against Zeke’s hand, clenching her teeth together to keep from screaming. It was like trying to wake from a nightmare, only she kept waiting to spring up from her bed. She clutched at his arm and clenched her eyes shut, wishing they would wake up. The fall felt as if it was going on forever, until their bodies made impact.

Suddenly, Pieck couldn’t breathe as she felt warm water splash and engulf her. She felt her body sinking downwards from the momentum of the fall. The young woman held what little breath she had, kicking her limbs in order to propel her towards the surface. Her injured leg screamed out in pain, weakened from its earlier blow as she fought her way upwards. She didn’t know if she was going the right way, and felt only that she was struggling without making much progress, until she felt the familiar feeling of an arm wrap around her waist. Zeke guided her upwards, frantically kicking his legs for the both of them until they finally broke the surface.

Zeke gasped for air, taking a few heaving breaths before flipping his hair out of his eyes. “Are you okay?” He kicked through the water to stay afloat, guiding Pieck’s hands to rest on his shoulders to stabilize her in the water.

“I… I think so…” Pieck responded, choking through the water in her mouth to get a few breaths of air. She weakly continued kicking her legs, hoping that it provided some relief for Zeke holding her up. “Where… Where are we? Is there land?”

The blond checked their surroundings. They must have fallen into an underground hot spring, which would not be uncommon for the area, given the geysers nearby. “Over there.” Zeke called out, pointing to his left. The water took up the majority of the circular cave, but there was a small shoreline along the northern wall. “Can you swim?” His words were calm and direct, but laced with urgency.

She coughed once more, but Pieck nodded. “I’ll try.”

Together, the duo made it to the opposite side of the underground lake. Once Pieck was able to touch the bottom, however, she let out a yelp, signaling it was too painful for her to proceed further.

“Here. Stop.” Zeke ordered as he waded over to her. He grabbed at her hands, throwing them about his own neck before dipping his left arm into the water, lining it under the crooks of Pieck’s knees. He pulled Pieck close to him as he wrapped his other arm around her back, lifting her out of the water with ease. “I got...” He gazed down at her to give her some reassurance, but his words came to a slow halt as he looked her over. The water had washed the majority of blood away from her upper body. He felt their hands clinging onto one another in a similar fashion to the wet clothes against her frame. It highlighted her curves, curves that he never knew to exist. When did that happen? Was it recent? She was not much younger than him, but he never stopped to notice how much she had changed in recent years.

“...you.” His final word sounded so lost, but yet found at the same time. What was he doing? His grey eyes averted from her body back up to her face. Her eyes were a similar color to his, though just a few shades darker. She had a certain unwavering look in her eyes, it was an expression he had not seen on her before. It was as if she was saying so much more than what words would allow. She hadn’t looked at anyone that way. Or had he just not noticed? 

The blond suddenly became hyper aware of her slender fingers wrapped around the back of his neck. They were gripping onto him, like she needed him in this moment now more than ever. It caused a small shiver to run down his spine.

What was he doing? He should be moving forward, but he felt as if he was trying to go against a current. He inhaled sharply, reminding himself that he needed to breathe as he fought to look ahead. He moved one foot forward, and then another, feeling like each step was heavier than the last.

Zeke made every effort to support her until they could collapse onto the shore, lying next to each other side-by-side. Pieck rolled over onto her back once she had coughed all of the water from her lungs. In a situation like this, most regular humans would worry about survival and the infection that could set in to a wound like hers. Once more, Pieck was thankful that their Titan forms allowed them to heal at an accelerated rate, even if hers was the slowest of all of the Titans. Steam hissed from her wounds as her body fought to heal the laceration in her side.

Pieck’s hand gripped at the ground beneath her. A mix of sand, soil, and pebbles came up in her hand. She let it fall through her delicate fingers before she looked up at the ceiling. A small crack of light above the water was the only evidence of the hole they had fallen from.

“Where are we?” she questioned aloud. “Are these...the geysers that Commander Magath had spoken about? How far down are we?”

Zeke was thankful she asked him a question. It was a welcome distraction to...whatever it was he was doing previously. “Fortunately, it’s not a geyser. I don’t even think we would survive heat such as that, but it is something similar. I think we landed in an underground hot spring.” He picked up his head to get a good look at the hole they fell through. “I would say….about thirty feet down? We were lucky to have landed in water.”

“We were extremely lucky,” she agreed, looking at the distance from the ceiling to the water’s surface. If the hole had been just a few feet over… well, Pieck didn’t want to think about it. Pieck grunted as she lifted her upper body upwards, resting on her elbows in a reclining seated position. Her body really was a mess from that explosion. She sighed, looking away from herself to see if Zeke was in a similar state of disarray.

Despite the amount of water that had just been in Pieck’s mouth, she felt her mouth go dry as she looked at the boy next to her. No, not a boy. His face still held his boyish charm, but gone were the days of rounded cheeks and a slender build. This was a man laying next to her in the sand, and the saturated state of his white shirt only proved to remind her of that fact. Zeke Yeager had filled out quite well over the last few years. The wet cloth stuck to his abdomen, defining far more ridges of muscle than Pieck thought was appropriate.

As she felt her cheeks heat up, she deliberately and slowly turned her face away so that he would not see. What was she getting so embarrassed about? Now a young woman of eighteen, Pieck had years of experience gazing at Zeke when she knew he wasn’t looking. It wasn’t as if his attractiveness was a government secret, and surely Zeke must know that women found him to be desirable. She thought of the way that his arms had felt under her body, solid and sure, as he had lifted her out of the water. Pieck couldn’t help but allow the smallest twinge of a smile hide in the corner of her mouth at the way his hair had dripped in front of his eyes, which had been looking at her with a fascination, surprise, and affection-

Wait-- affection?

There had been something different in Zeke’s eyes when he had gazed down at her. She couldn’t place what it exactly was, because that look had never been directed at her before. Had he noticed her looking at him? Did she make him uncomfortable? Nothing in his current posture or voice read as ‘uncomfortable’ to her, and she prided herself in knowing Zeke’s habits better than anyone. Perhaps she was imagining things. It wasn’t the first time that she had allowed her imagination to run away with fantastical thoughts about her best friend.

Knowing she had to start up a new subject, Pieck spoke up. “What were you doing?” she questioned, her voice even and neutral. “Running after me like that?”

Zeke froze for just a moment as Pieck asked him the very question that he had been repeating in his head for the past several minutes. His shoulders relaxed, however, when he realized she was talking about what transpired up above ground and not below.

“What was I doing?” Zeke rolled over onto his side to face her, propping himself up with his forearm. “More like what were you doing coming up with such a reckless and emotional plan.” He wiped the water away from his browline. “If it wasn’t for me, you would have been captured or killed.”

Pieck’s expression changed in the most minute of ways. Thankfully, Zeke was observant enough to see the single crease in her brow, the defensive hardening of her gaze, and the set of her jaw. She fought to keep her voice just as even as before. “And if it wasn’t for me, we could have potentially lost the Beast Titan. I had two gunners without ammo, and another one jammed. I had to leave the Panzer Unit behind, and I became a decoy to allow you time. I can shift multiple times in succession and could lead their fire away from closer range to become a more imminent threat. There was nothing emotional about that plan, it simply made the most sense.”

The best option would have been to let Pieck stay on the ground and allow the Beast Titan to finish the battle, Pieck figured. It would have risked her as an asset to the Marleyan army, but Zeke’s Beast was far more important. “You’re the one who made an emotional decision.”

Zeke opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Did he? He had put his emotions aside long ago. Feelings were an inconvenience, so why on earth would he act on them now? What was he doing? He fought off that ruminating question as he processed Pieck’s words. She had a point. “As expected of you, Piecky. I suppose you may be right.” Pieck seemed to relax at his words. Zeke looked up to study his surroundings once more before he continued speaking. “I feel we may have to wait to be rescued. This area is too small for either one of us to shift. We would be crushed to death.”

“Yes, you have a point.” Laying on her back once more, Pieck looked up at the shining rock facets as if she was gazing at the stars. “Heh. It reminds me of something we studied two years ago. Do you remember the Warrior detainment pits? They apparently have them in strategic locations across Liberio, just in case they need to restrict a shifter’s ability to turn into a Titan. Not many people seem to know where they are,” she shrugged. “That’s what this feels like. Especially given that there’s two of us… your Beast form would be too much for this space.”

“Right you are again, Pieck.” After a few uneventful minutes had passed, it finally felt like the both of them were safe, at least for now. The only thing they could do was wait for a rescue party. Zeke figured he’d pass the time by changing the topic, one that would deter his eyes from wandering once more. “I wonder why Marley decided not to keep one of their close combat Titans on home soil and instead rely entirely on ranged assaults.” Zeke carefully phrased his words as more of a question, rather than a criticism. It had been one year since they sent Marcel, Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie to recover the Founding Titan. “I also wonder why we haven’t received any correspondence from them yet.”

The two Eldans knew how to craft their words carefully; they had a lot of practice over the years. Even when they were in private, you never knew who would say something to the wrong people. It was always better to be careful with your speech, even if Pieck trusted Zeke implicitly. “It is possible that the higher-ranked officers have been contacted and that we lowly Warriors aren’t permitted to know,” she shrugged, knowing that her suggestion was highly unlikely. “Maybe they are currently hiding, or undercover in some sort of way. That is how I would find out information from the island devils, wouldn’t you?” Pieck sighed, her thoughts turning dark. “However... one year is a very long time. I hope they are all right.”

Pieck fell into silence as she reflected on her comrades. She was never particularly close with the others who had ventured to Paradis. Reiner was too focused on becoming a hero, and Annie rarely spoke kindly with anyone. Marcel was usually deescalating whatever conflict his brother, Porco, had gotten into. Bertholdt had seemed like the most similar to her, but he was always with Reiner and she was with Zeke. Regardless of the lack of true kinship between them, they were still her comrades. Besides her father, they were part of a group that knew her best. She would hate to hear that they had been injured, or worse.

“Such a shame. If they had sent us, we would have been back by now.” Zeke phrased it as a joke, laughing through his smile. Though in actuality, he was completely serious. Each passing day meant less time for him to fulfill his euthanasia plan. If only Marley had sent him, then Eldians wouldn’t have to suffer for much longer.

Not understanding his full meaning, Pieck couldn’t help but giggle. “You know, you’re probably right. Infiltration and information-gathering seem far more up our alleys than the other four. I wonder if they even got in…” Pieck sighed, then winced. As she moved, a particularly sharp rock was uncovered from the sand beneath her. Using her arms, she dragged her body to the side, moving closer to Zeke in the process.

“Annie would have. The other three? I’m not so sure.” Zeke watched as the steam radiating from Pieck’s body changed trajectory as she moved. She should’ve never gotten hit. If only he spotted that cannon in time. Maybe if he acted more serious, more coldhearted in combat, then this would have never happened. He knew she would regenerate after a matter of time, but that did nothing to soothe the searing ache in the hollow of his chest.

“Knowing them? Marcel most likely had to stop the others from fighting each other before they could even get inside. No wonder it’s taking them so lo--”

Pieck’s joke was cut short as she heard movement from above. Her sentence died in her mouth as she looked up, hearing the foreign shouting of the enemy getting closer. From her limited linguistics classes, it sounded as if they had heard a noise and were coming closer to investigate. She felt her heart jump in her chest as a light was shone down the hole, scanning the area.

Zeke’s eyes followed suit, widening as he saw the light illuminate the surface of the hot spring. He moved instinctively, scrambling across the pebbles that lay between them to get behind her. He reached his arms around to roughly grab Pieck by her waist and started pulling while he scooted himself backwards with his feet, kicking at the dirt as he moved. Zeke moved as fast as their bodies would allow, all the while the light moved closer to their direction. His momentum came to a dead halt as he slammed his back into the rocky wall, a low grunt escaping his lips upon impact. The blond constricted Pieck within his arms like a python, pinning her tightly to his chest and away from the light as much as possible. He bent his long legs at the knees, trying to take up as little space as possible. He dipped his chin to rest his cheek against the side of Pieck’s head in order to utter a whisper that only she could hear. “Don’t. Move.”

Everything came to a complete standstill for Pieck Finger. As her eyes followed the trail of the beam of light, moving in sweeping motions closer to them, the rest of her senses were otherwise occupied. Her head rested back onto Zeke’s sternum, and she could feel the strength in every part of his body hold her tightly to him, keeping her safe. She wanted to close her eyes and relax back into that embrace, to let it envelop her entirely. Instead of the musty scent of the cave, Pieck slowly inhaled the natural scent of Zeke. It was woodsy, clean, and bright, like sandalwood mixed with tangerine and fresh laundry.

As if drawn to the source of the scent, Pieck turned her face to the side, and found her cheek gently pressed to his. A shaky whisper of a gasp escaped from her rosy lips. Her ears echoed with the pounding of her own heartbeat, louder than a stampede. Or was it his heartbeat?

The hair on the back of Zeke’s neck stood up as he felt Pieck’s skin connect with his own and her tiny gasp sent a jolt of electricity through his system. They were so close to one another that he could feel Pieck’s chest rise and fall within his arms; she was breathing quickly. She pulled away, once again peering up at him with that glossy look in her eyes. Only this time, he did not look away. His gaze persisted, diving deep into her downturned eyes. What was he doing?  Their connected gaze brought those thoughts back, only this time it was accompanied by a quickened heart rate. Try as he might, he couldn’t look away from her.

Pieck stared longingly into Zeke’s eyes, feeling her breath grow shallow as he continued to look at her. If only she could push through those slate-colored irises to the meaning behind them, to know what he was thinking. Pieck was good at reading people, and although Zeke was difficult to read by most, she usually figured that she had the best chance out of anyone. But in this moment, she searched desperately in his eyes for some sign. What was he thinking? She thought she saw confusion, but there was something more. This something else made her head feel as if it was filled with champagne, her stomach with butterflies. Was that desire she saw?

It wasn’t surprising that she hadn’t seen it before, since Zeke had never looked at her in that way. Pieck had seen others direct that look at her companion, and maybe a few times he had directed it at another. But for the first time in her entire life, she felt like Zeke was finally looking at her. He was finally seeing her, all of her, the young woman that she had become. With that realization, she recognized that she had been waiting for him for years. She had waited while others had made their intentions known, and she hadn’t wanted to think about whether those intentions had been reciprocated. She had stood on the sidelines, in the shadows, afraid to risk the most important friendship that she had in the entire world.

But Pieck was tired of waiting.

As she slid her warm hand up his chest, Pieck decided to gamble. It was the riskiest bet she had ever made with him. She would take a chance as she grasped at the collar of his shirt, tenderly tugging his face closer to hers. She said an internal prayer to whatever god might be listening, praying that this action wouldn’t jeopardize what she cherished so much. She showed her cards, closed her eyes, and pressed her lips to his in a light, lingering kiss.

Time did not quite make sense for Zeke Yeager. They were in a life-or-death situation; this was not the time, or was it the perfect time? After all, their time was limited. At this moment, however, it felt like he was living in slow motion, but yet all happened so fast at the same time. He inhaled sharply through his nose, his breathing stopping altogether as he felt Pieck’s soft lips pressed against his. The union sent a thrilling shock through his system, similarly to the static electricity a shifter experiences just before transforming.

And boy was it a transformation. Within a few moments, something took over him. What Pieck gave him, he gave tenfold in return. He reciprocated the kiss with a hunger, half releasing her from his tight grapple only to cradle the back of her head with his right hand. He didn’t want her to leave, he wouldn’t allow it, not when she just broke through the bars of his tightly locked cage. He finally let go of the breath he was holding, hot air ghosting across Pieck’s face before it mixed with the rest of the steam that clouded them from reality and their sense of judgment.

Those few moments before he returned her kiss were pure torture for Pieck. It could have been seconds or minutes, but as she heard the yells of their enemies growing more distant, and feeling Zeke kissing her in return, a tidal wave of relief overcame Pieck. It left her mind foggy, and for once, she refused to think and analyze. His fingers through her midnight tresses earned him a light groan from her, alighting a fire from within. She wasn’t confined to the shadows anymore, and there was a freedom that filled her thoughts that she hadn’t allowed herself before. She wouldn’t hide how she felt about him. At last, Pieck felt as if she was standing with him in the light.

Unwilling to give up this feeling or let Zeke’s lips leave hers for even a millisecond, Pieck rotated her body so that her chest pressed against his own. Her fingers, once so gentle against his shirt, buried themselves into the damp strands of his beautiful, blond hair as she grew in confidence. She crushed her body against his, their kiss growing in passion as she turned her face to a new angle. Emboldened, she ghosted her tongue across his bottom lip, a question and an invitation.

Zeke was rarely surprised by anything, but this...this was unexpected of Pieck. She was usually so docile, but he found her sudden ferocity to be incredibly attractive. His grey eyes fluttered open for just a brief moment as he felt her tongue snake across his bottom lip. He used that moment to quickly move his hands down Pieck’s shoulders to her backside, but only for the purposes of lifting her up. He wanted to be closer to her, if that was even possible, but he also didn’t want to bring any additional pain to her healing leg. He crossed his long legs underneath her, placing her in his lap to allow her legs to extend around his torso. The steam--whether it be from her healing wounds, the hot spring, or their close contact--was fogging up his glasses. He quickly grabbed at the frames to push them up to rest on the top of his head, pinning back his blond bangs in the process. It was only then that he cupped both sides of her face in earnest, tilting her chin upwards. Ignoring the sounds of distant shouting and gunfire, the bearer of the Beast accepted her invitation, parting her lips with his tongue to explore the inside of her mouth.

Pieck had heard of fireworks, and had seen them from a distance, but as Zeke’s tongue touched her own, she was sure that this is what seeing fireworks felt like. A bomb had gone off directly under her feet, and yet that explosion was nothing in comparison to the burst of energy that she felt from kissing him. She knew that she was not experienced, as that small voice of insecurity in the back of her mind tried to remind her. But she shoved the voice away as quickly as it rose up. She would overcome her lack of experience with tenacity and drive. After all, Pieck had always been a quick learner.

She studied the way that his tongue stroked hers, figuring that copying his methods would be the best way to start. She wrote her own name with the tip of her tongue on the inside of his mouth, as if incanting that he could somehow, possibly, belong to her. His touch was magnetic and electric at the same time, drawing her closer and sparking new life. She loved how his hands felt gripping her to his body or cradling her face. Pieck wondered if Zeke felt the same way about her own hands. Experimentation was next, and her fingernails lightly scratched against his scalp as she tugged at his hair, careful not to pull too hard. Wanting to encourage him, she let the softest of mewls of appreciation escape from her lips, captured by his own.

A lone grunt escaped from Zeke’s lips as Pieck entangled his hair within her fists, but it was the small sound that came from Pieck that made Zeke completely lose his senses. What was he doing? He knew the answer now. He wanted to hear more and he would take all the blame for it. The blond broke away as he craned Pieck’s head to the side, pushing her wet hair over to one shoulder to expose her neck. He dipped his head down, placing wet kisses along her jawline before traveling down the smooth, soft skin of her neck.

As soon as Zeke’s lips left her own, Pieck’s eyes fluttered open. Hoping that she had done nothing wrong, her lust-darkened eyes met his own for just a flash before he ducked his head. What she saw there surprised her, in the best possible way. Zeke’s eyes were hunting for something with such focus and drive that it was fitting of his surname. Pieck’s momentary confusion melted away as she felt his warm lips pressing hot kisses against the tender skin of her neck. A shaking sigh ghosted into Zeke’s ear as he continued his trail down her skin, and her eyes closed in pure bliss, her body completely relaxed under his ministrations. Not knowing what to do with her hands, her fingers left his hair to press their way down Zeke’s neck and spine. She explored his back, his chiseled arms and chest, any part of him that she could get her hands on, just to show him her appreciation for what he was and what he was giving her. Echoing his desire to be closer, Pieck slid forward on his lap, using what strength she had in her legs to pull him flush against her body. Now that she had a taste of what kissing Zeke was like, Pieck couldn’t imagine ever stopping of her own volition.

A fire burned deep within the pit of Zeke’s stomach as he felt Pieck slide her way over his hips. His perception narrowed, as if he was going through a tunnel. Everything fell away, and for a moment, the only thing that existed was just him and her.

“Mr. Zeke! Miss Pieck!

Zeke’s eyes flew open. The voices were distant, but he heard him. His mind was so foggy that at first the voices sounded as if he was underwater, but they became clearer as he came to an awareness.

“Mr. Zeke?! Miss Pieck?! Where are you?!” The voices were closer this time and recognizable. They belonged to the men of the Panzer Unit.

The reality of their situation suddenly came crashing on him all at once like a heavy weight. The blond placed his hands on Pieck’s waist, shifting her off of his lap for him to quickly scoot away and sit by her side. Zeke hastily put his glasses back on before gazing up at their only light source, fixing his hair in the process. His cage was barred shut and locked once more.

Pieck grimaced as she was set on the pebbles beside him, her legs askew in front of her. She stared forward, as if she was waking up from the most immersive dream that she had ever had. Everything felt like she was moving slowly, her logical brain delayed and trying desperately to catch up with what had just happened. All she knew was that her chest was heaving with belabored breaths, that she was significantly colder than she was with her body pressed against Zeke’s… and that she had never felt so irritated at hearing the voices of her subordinates as she did right now.

Thankfully, Pieck seemed to recover her wits much quicker than her War Chief. Struggling to stand up, she called out, “Luca, is that you? We’re down here, through the hole in the ground! It’s a long drop; we’ll need a rope!”

After a few moments, a Marleyan with short brown hair appeared within the frame of the rocky entrance, backlit by the sun. He shined a light down into the cave, seeing Pieck come into view as she walked closer to the shore. “There you are! This was a nice little hiding spot you found. Are any of you injured?”

Zeke finally rose to his feet, joining Pieck to stand along the shoreline. He cleared his throat to answer, “Just Pieck. I am fine.” Physically, anyway.

“Understood, Chief!” Luca called down, “I’ll tie a foothold to the rope. We’ll pull you up if you can swim over to it!”

Zeke gestured for Pieck to follow him, holding out his hand to help her steady herself in the water until it was deep enough to swim. “Let’s go, Piecky.” His mouth was dry and his throat hoarse, but there was a softness to his words.

Pieck looked at his hand, then back at his eyes as she accepted his offering. She gave him a warm smile, knowing that this was the last time in a while that the two would be able to be completely alone and unsupervised. She wanted that smile to convey as much as she could: her worry that she had overstepped boundaries, her fear that she had changed their relationship too much too quickly, and her hope that he didn’t regret what they had done. After all, she certainly didn’t.

The young woman squeezed his hand and spoke with as much affection as she felt was allowed, “After you, War Chief.”

As they swam to the center of the lake, a rope cascaded down from the opening. “Go ahead and grab on! We’ll hoist you up!”

Zeke raised his arms from the water, causing a small splash as he grabbed onto the rope. He brought the end of it underneath the surface, placing his foot within the looped foothold. With one hand still gripping the rope, he gestured for Pieck to get behind him. “Get on my back and hold on to me.” 

Pieck followed his commands, swimming closer to drape her arms on top of his shoulders, fingers laced, legs wrapped around his waist. Zeke gave two pulls on the rope to signal their readiness. As the Panzer Unit started to pull them up, Pieck gripped on tighter as they broke through the surface. Resting her ear against his back, she could hear the reassuring sound of Zeke’s heartbeat. If his kiss had been like a symphony, complex, layered and glorious, the rhythm of his heart was her lullaby.

Her eyes flickered up to look at Zeke as best as she could from her position, and she was surprised to see a rosy flush coloring his cheek, all the way up to his ear. A mischievous expression came over Pieck’s face, and she leaned up to scratch with a singler finger right behind his favored ear.

“It seems like I did something rather unexpected to you, War Chief. But no matter,” she whispered, her low timbre sending a shiver up the male’s spine. Pieck wished she could his reaction to her following words as they neared the light above.

“...I look forward to surprising you again soon.”

Chapter Text

Zeke Yeager leaned back against a brick wall, placing a cigarette in between his lips and lighting the tip of it unceremoniously. This was his tenth cigarette today and it was only fifteen minutes shy of one in the afternoon. Usually, he considered himself a light smoker, maybe going through one pack every three days. Lately, however, he had nearly tripled his intake, and it was obvious to him as to why.

Today would be the first day in two weeks that he would be seeing Pieck Finger.

When the Panzer Unit rescued them from that underground cave, the rest of the Marleyan military was able to infiltrate and seize back the territory. Although he left the fight early, the Beast did enough damage to the Mid-East’s land and naval weaponry to secure a victory for Marley. Despite the fact that things did not go according to plan, it caused the higher-ups within the Marleyan military to take a particular interest in the Cart Titan. They found it impressive that Pieck could shift so many times in succession and thus wanted to determine what was her limit.

As soon as the two arrived back in Liberio, Pieck was immediately taken in for testing and Zeke had not seen her since. They never had an opportunity for a follow-up conversation after their brief time within that cave, and being left to the devices of his own unrelenting thoughts was slowly eating away at him from the inside.

Firstly, they had been mere fractions away from getting caught, not by the enemy, but by the Marleyan military. Zeke knew Marley didn’t have a problem with the Warrior Unit pursuing outside relationships. It was to be expected of any soldier, regardless of race, and for Eldians, Warriors were prized matches, as that would secure a red armband for a very lucky young man or woman. What Marley would care about, however, would be relationships within the Warrior Unit. Such a relationship would lead to emotional and irrational decision-making on the battlefield, difficulty with following orders, and putting an entire mission in jeopardy. Should such an arrangement be exposed, it would be natural for Marley to exterminate one of the two offenders. Out of the two of them, it was not hard to determine who would be picked. Zeke was a precious commodity, the “Boy Wonder”, Marley’s strongest Warrior. He had done a lot of killing over the past couple years, but he would never allow Pieck’s blood to be on his hands all due to him getting carried away in the heat of the moment. She still had so much time left, and he would never forgive himself if he was responsible for cutting that time short.

Secondly, he was Pieck’s superior. Zeke’s rank was something that he generally forgot about, considering he met Pieck when he was ten-years-old, but it did not change the fact that it puts him in a position of power over her. He turned Pieck’s rather chaste kiss into far more than what she may have signed up for. Guilt was not an emotion that Zeke felt often. He swore that feeling off at the young age of seven after he made the decision to expose his parents. But whenever he got to thinking that perhaps he took advantage of the situation that was presented to him, well, he couldn’t think of a better word to describe it.

Finally, and most importantly, he would not let anyone or anything get in the way of his euthanasia plan. His first objective had been the same for the past five years: to locate the holder of the founding titan. Waiting on Marcel, Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie to bring the coordinate to Marley’s soil, however, allowed him to get distracted. 

With a furrowed brow, Zeke took a long drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke upwards into the air. The nicotine seemed to help with the physical symptoms related to stress, but did nothing to stop his ruminating thoughts.

Recognizing that this chain of thinking was on repeat over the past two weeks was only an admittance that he couldn’t stop thinking about her. She was a distraction, and admitting that Pieck Finger was a distraction was an acknowledgment that he found her attractive. 

“God damn it…” Zeke cursed at himself under his breath, flicking the ash off the tip of his cigarette. 

His grey eyes looked up in a plea to stop his mind from wandering to her and instead focus on what was happening around him. Several Marleyans bustled about the back alleyway he was in, preparing the surrounding area for the upcoming event. Not wanting any of its own citizens or enemies to catch wise of their defending Titans’ blunder two weeks ago, the government decided to host a victory tour, stopping in a handful of key cities all over the country. Each event would be the same. There would be music, fanfare and military demonstrations. A key highlight, however, would be Commander Magath boasting of the might of the Warrior Unit that makes the nation of Marley unstoppable. All Zeke had to do was stand there and stay silent, like some prized trophy in a display case, except this trophy was feared and mocked by everyone who viewed it.

The first stop was in a city twenty miles west of Liberio. Zeke lifted up his left hand in order to check his watch; Magath and Pieck should be arriving at any moment. They apparently wanted to keep doing tests right up until the very minute, so he was escorted here alone and advised to stay in the back and out of sight until called upon.

Soon enough, Zeke could hear the sound of the procession approaching. As they rounded the corner, he counted a half-dozen military tanks and a handful of trucks. It seemed that the Marleyan military wanted its citizens to see that they could spare the vehicles for the celebration, a sure sign of Marley’s security. Most of the trucks made the turn to circle around the town square’s roundabout to park amidst the crowd of audience participants, but two trucks turned down the same side street that Zeke was standing in.

The trucks’ rumbling ceased as they came to a halt. Several soldiers hopped out of the front to open the rear doors, hurrying to serve their leader without delay. Commander Theo Magath was the first to emerge from the vehicle. He stood proudly, straightening his uniform from the ride while the second traveler stepped out of the truck.

There she was.

As Pieck Finger stood next to Magath, smiling her thanks to the other soldiers and expressing gratitude for allowing them to arrive so quickly, Zeke’s ever-observant eyes took in several details all at once. For one, Pieck was wearing her official Warrior dress uniform. Not that it should come as a surprise to him; it had been commanded that he do the same. But at this point, Pieck hadn’t had many opportunities to wear it. Secondly, something about Pieck’s hair looked different. He noticed that it shone more brightly than usual, the sun allowing the warm brown-undertones in her usually black hair to surface. Ah, she had also gotten a haircut, her usually longer locks now neatly trimmed to her collarbones. Lastly, and most distressing to him, was her eyes. Pieck had always had dark eyes, but now he saw shadows, glimpses of exhaustion ringing the undersides of her unique irises. How much had they truly been testing her? It was still the Pieck he knew--after all, her hair wasn’t exactly smooth--but she looked older, more mature than last time.

Magath walked over to Zeke, who immediately stomped out his cigarette to give his superior officer a salute. “Sir.” The Commander gave Zeke a nod before speaking, “At ease, Yeager.” Magath gave Zeke a lookover, as if examining him for approval. “Did you forget to shave this morning?”

In short, the answer was yes. Zeke was so caught up in the torment of his own thoughts that he completely forgot to make sure his face was clean shaven for the start of the tour. Rarely did anything slip his mind, so he would cover for himself rather than admit something so ludicrous out loud.

“I have been considering growing it out, Sir.”

“Well, you sure picked a hell of a time. Some facial hair would certainly cover up that baby face of yours.” Magath then turned to address the both of them. “You two will wait backstage just like we rehearsed. You’ll be cued when to come on stage.” The Commander then left the two of them alone to make his way over to one of the stage wings.

Pieck struck a smart salute to Zeke, her expression pleasantly neutral. “War Chief. It’s good to see you’re doing well.”

Zeke furrowed his eyebrows very so slightly; she saluted him? Was she pretending nothing happened? She was rarely ever that formal when it was just the two of them. It seemed she chose to act professionally around him. He decided he would do the same.

“Hey, Finger. I am.” Zeke replied, though the staunch smell of cigarette smoke stated otherwise. “Can’t say the same for you. You look like you haven’t slept in a week.” The blond lowered his voice. “What did they do to you?”

The corner of Pieck’s mouth twitched upwards into the inkling of a smile at his comment. “I doubt that is what you’re supposed to say to a lady, War Chief. It might affect your popularity with women.” Her voice contained a casual aloof tone to it. Her eyes flickered to the stagehands that walked around them, as if signalling to Zeke her awareness of their conversation being monitored. She lowered her voice to match his question as she responded.

“Oh, you know. Marley is quite interested in seeing how far they can push us Warriors. We must be aware of any limits each of the Titans possess, wouldn’t you say? To allow us to function better in battle?”

There was an undercurrent of sarcasm running hidden beneath her light voice, one that only Zeke would be able to detect. She chuckled again as the blaring fanfare of trumpeters from the front of the stage announced the beginning of the Marleyan victory display. Pieck stepped closer to him, so close that he could feel her hair tickle his chin as she leaned up to whisper, “Bets on if the Commander will be able to say ‘marvelous Marleyan Warrior heroes’ without stumbling over his words again?”

Zeke stiffened. “He messes up every time.” The blond stepped to the side, distancing himself from Pieck. “I’d be foolish to take such a bet.” His words had more than one meaning. He wasn’t going to play any games with her, not even this one, until they had a moment to talk. The War Chief placed his hands in his pockets, keeping his eyes locked onto the stage. “How many times were you able to shift?”

An eyebrow raised as she sensed his reserve in his reply. They stood next to one another, and Pieck’s eyes flickered back up to the stage in the same direction as his. She noticed that the word “stage” was perhaps a grandiose term for what it was in actuality: a crudely constructed platform with little more than stairs, a backdrop, and a podium with a microphone on the other side. Despite wanting to show their power, she thought it strangely symbolic. Why treat even the most exalted Warriors to a proper stage, when they were, at the end of the day, simple Eldian spawn?

“A maximum of eighteen times within a minute, while combat or tasks were being performed.” Zeke glanced down, noticing Pieck was hiding her hands in her own coat pockets. It was unusual for her to stand in that fashion, and he presumed that she was hiding her hands, or rather, the repetitive wounds that must be there. He knew it took her longer to regenerate; the marks must still be there. “The Marley officials expect that I should exceed that into the twenties within the month.”

They were not strangers to doing math together. That would be one-hundred times within five minutes. Not to mention, they were working her straight to the bone for two weeks. It was no wonder she looked exhausted. Zeke was surprised she could even stand. His spinal taps probably held no comparison to the torture she went through, though he would sign up for more if it meant lightening her load.

“It was thanks to our marvelous Maw-Marleyan Warrior heroes…” Zeke smirked as he heard Magath’s voice booming over the loudspeaker. He was glad he didn’t take that bet. He leaned down slightly in order to whisper to the young woman standing beside him. “You best keep your hands behind your back. People will think you are being disrespectful if you keep them in your pockets while on that stage.”

Pieck looked back with a smirk, glancing down at the bottom of Zeke’s own coat. “You best take your own advice,” she murmured, his own hands having been in his pockets while they had been waiting. Just as Zeke realized that, he heard their cue.

“...introduce our very own Warrior Unit heroes, War Chief Zeke Yeager and Pieck Finger.”

Purposefully retracting her hands from her pockets, Pieck winked over at him before placing her hands at her sides as she walked up the stairs in front of Zeke. He gave her a look as he removed his hands from his pockets, scolding her with his eyes for being so informal to him at a large public venue. She hesitated at the top to allow him to walk onto the stage first, her devious smirk now gone in a flash, an unaffected pleasant smile replacing the look.

The pair did exactly as they were told. They stood at attention while on stage, keeping their expressions unwavering through the forced applause for the two Eldians. Zeke knew behind all the fanfare, the Marleyan audience feared and loathed them. 

Not to worry though, he’d be doing them all a favor soon.

The ceremony was done within the hour. Zeke accompanied Pieck and Magath back into the vehicle they arrived in. From there, they carried on with the rest of their schedule for the day: a military debriefing, continued tour planning and rehearsing, and dinner. By the late evening, they soon arrived at their hotel, their final destination for the day. As they entered the lobby, Zeke and Pieck realized that this was probably the nicest establishment they would ever stay in. The lobby was filled with fine reds and golds, marble flooring, and ornate rich wood paneling and check-in desks. It was doubtful that an Eldian had ever stepped foot in here. The title of “honorary Marleyans” did not prevent them from receiving glares as they followed behind Magath, though kept their distance as he checked them in at the reception desk.

Zeke knew something was off when Magath returned with only one key. “The staff will be escorting you to your rooms for this evening. I shouldn’t even have to remind the both of you that it is very kind of them to even let Eldians stay here, so be sure to express your gratitude and do exactly as they say.”

“Yes, Sir.” Zeke was quick to reply.

“Meet me back in the lobby at 0800 hours.” The Commander initiated their saluted exchange before departing towards one of the elevators.

Shortly after Magath’s departure, the man behind the receptionist desk came over to the both of them. He muttered a gruff “follow me” under his breath, as if he didn’t want to be associated with them. The pair followed quietly, feeling like smuggled goods as they were led to the stairs and away from the elevators. The man took them downstairs, rather than up, until they got to the very bottom floor.

“We normally don’t lodge Eldians, so we had to make up a room for you that wouldn’t disturb our guests.” He explained, turning on the light of what appeared to be a large storeroom. They passed through several shelvings of pillows, blankets, toiletries, canned goods, and wine before the man opened a door on the opposite side of the room. “Under no circumstances will you come back upstairs until it’s time for you to depart. You’ll be your own service staff, so should you need anything, help yourself to it down here.” The receptionist spoke, not bothering to walk into the room to present it to them. “Enjoy your stay.” He cited through a pursed smile before heading back up the stairs.

As Zeke walked in, it was easy for him to notice that the shelves were pushed up against the wall in order to clear a space for them to stay in. What was clearly a cellar room was turned into a makeshift hotel room for second-class citizens. It was cold and there were no windows. The only actual “lodging” amenities consisted of a desk, a small dresser with a wash basin, an end table with an oil lamp dimly lighting the room, and a bed.

The realization made Zeke’s hand linger on the doorknob. There was only one bed.

Deciding not to dwell on the implications, he cleared his throat before moving out of the way so Pieck could enter. “Of course they couldn’t spare more than one bed for us lowly Eldians.” He shut the door behind them, allowing him to say his next remark without fear of scrutiny. “Honorary Marleyans, my ass.”

The underground cellar gave them a unique privacy that was not commonly awarded to Eldians, and Zeke couldn’t help but allow the wriggling, persistent memory of their cave rendezvous to find its way into his present consciousness once more. It was the last time that he, or she, had been presented with such a chance to speak freely. Pieck’s words were so uninhibited as she chatted with him, it was as if she didn’t remember the incident at all. She acted as they had been before, completely open with him.

“Not to worry, War Chief,” Pieck reassured with matching sarcasm. “See? They gave us a dresser, even for a one-night stay. How lucky we are.” The young woman moved further into the room, placing her overnight bag of her few essentials next to the bed, staking her claim on her preferred side. “In addition, I thankfully don’t take up much space. A tall soldier, such as yourself, will have plenty of room.”

Zeke picked at his fingers; she never called him War Chief when they were in private. In fact, he hadn’t heard her say his name this whole time. It only made him think that she wanted to move on from the incident and maintain an air of professionalism. If that was the case, did he truly misinterpret her intentions in that cave? He was very close to drawing the conclusion that he should apologize.

“Yes, how kind of them. It most definitely makes up for the lack of plumbing and electricity.” Zeke crossed the room, setting his suitcase next to the dresser before sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to the younger woman. He tapped his foot repeatedly against the hard stone floor, a clear sign that his body was requesting another smoke. His elbow rested on one knee in order for his head to rest in his hand. He’d have to tolerate it.

Zeke heard Pieck snort behind him before she walked around the bed into his field of view. “Yes, quite. After all, I’ve always preferred candlelight to artificial ones. But maybe there are some extra pillows I can get over there. I don’t think a singular pillow is enough,” she laughed before walking out of their designated sleeping area into the shelving area beyond.

“And probably an extra blanket.” Zeke called after her. “It’s only going to get colder down here as the night goes on.”

A moment later, Pieck returned with her arms full. Not with pillows, no; one was stuck under her arm along with the requested blanket. Instead, she held a bottle of red wine in one hand and two water glasses in the other. Her eyes were alight with a thrilling degree of mischief, an uncharacteristically huge smile on her lips. Gone was the passive agreeability that he had seen from her earlier. She tossed the pillow to his right and sat at his left.

“I found a good bottle, it seems like a semi-sweet red, which is decent enough.” She managed to pop the cork off of the top, pouring Zeke a glass and handing it to him first. 

At first, Zeke refused to take her offering, staring at her incredulously. “I don’t think that’s--”

“They said to help ourselves to whatever we need. Don’t worry, I took this one from the back and rearranged the bottles.”

Well, that was what the man said. Zeke shook his head as he took the glass of wine from her. “Are you implying that I need this?” He swirled the cup in his hand, watching the contents make a ring around the glass. The blond would wait to drink it until she served herself. “I must admit, this seems a little out of character for you, Piecky. Perhaps those experiments made you bolder.” As if their little rendezvous in the underground cave wasn’t already bold enough.

Pieck seemed to grimace as she poured her own glass, thinking back on the tests. “Maybe I’m confident that my abilities are worth more than this cheap wine. Maybe you’re right, and I am growing bolder.” She chuckled softly before swirling her wine around, copying him, and taking a sip. “Were your tests this...extensive? One hour they’re having me shift as many times as I can, and the next they want to see how long I can sustain it.”

“Luckily for me, they were not as repetitive as yours. My scream puts the researchers at risk.” Zeke replied with a smile, bringing the glass to his lips to take a sip of wine. “My spinal taps are the only thing that occur on a consistent basis nowadays.” He remembered when he had to be secretive about it, before Pieck inherited the Cart. He was thankful he did not have to keep as many from her now.

The young woman couldn’t help but wince. “I wish they didn’t have to do so many. Knowing now what a powerful weapon it is, from a Marleyan perspective, it does make sense… but surely, they should limit how often it’s used. Otherwise, the use won’t be as impactful to the other nations.” Despite the final reasoning that she gave, there was something in the shift of Pieck’s eyes that Zeke saw that belied her meaning. Her eyes blinked from looking at Zeke’s back, to her wine, and repeated that motion once more. Her sympathy for the other nations wasn’t fabricated, but perhaps she wanted the spinal taps reduced for another, more personal reason?

“Well, they want plenty in reserve, not only for offensive usage, but for research as well, since my blood is unique.” Zeke shrugged his shoulders, pretending not to know the cause. “I’m sure they are also anticipating using it for Titan inheritance. They’ll probably wish to replicate my abilities with my successor.” He stated, taking another sip of his wine. Zeke knew it wasn’t possible, but he had no problem with them wasting their time. He decided that one sip wasn’t enough. The blond took a few gulps more until he finished the glass completely, hoping the wine would take the edge off of his need for another cigarette. Soon enough, he felt the inevitable, comforting warmth begin to radiate from his chest.

“Yes, we must pass on the abilities of the Boy Wonder somehow,” Pieck replied in a melodramatic fashion. Setting her cup down on the floor, she shrugged her body out of her off-white military coat, her red armband attached to the sleeve. She seemed to hesitate for just a moment as she fingered the red fabric. Pieck had done so much to earn the right to this color of armband; they all had. As she folded her coat to lay beside her, it was easy to see where her trail of thoughts had led her to. “How are your grandparents? I’m sure they miss having you around so often.”

Zeke took another sip of wine as he listened to her question. “They’re fine. My grandfather’s… mental state… continues to deteriorate, but that’s nothing new.” He remembered how much of a miracle it was that he was even lucid enough to help Pieck’s father in the street that one day so many years ago. His eyebrows furrowed as he swallowed more of the red liquid. Was she… making small talk? That was enough to convince Zeke that she was no longer comfortable around him. Why else would she not address it? Why else would she be acting like nothing had happened? It was enough that he wouldn’t let it go on anymore. He took a deep inhale before speaking, the wine offering him some extra encouragement.

“Pieck, I feel the need to apologize for what happened in that cave.” Pieck’s brows furrowed as he continued. “As your superior officer, I should not have taken advantage of the situation as I did. I take full responsibility for it, and I am sorry. I hope it doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable around me, though I understand if it does.” He had hoped that was enough, though part of him didn’t want to hear the answer.

Moments of silence passed. Pieck picked up her glass, swirling it around in her hand as she listened to his apology, as if thinking about her response. The tension seemed to grow in the room as Pieck prolonged her response by taking a long, lasting sip from her own drink. When she finally spoke, however, there was a warmth in her tone that he hadn’t heard since two weeks ago.

“I don’t know why you’re apologizing, Zeke. I mean, I understand what you said, but I don’t need you taking responsibility for it. I was the one who initiated that kiss, not you. If anything, I’ve been worried that I made you uncomfortable, not the other way around.” Pieck cracked a small smile, her eyes side-gazing up at him through her beautifully long lashes. Slowly, her hand pressed down onto his knee in a gesture of what he realized was flirtatious reassurance. “Plus, I knew you before you were my superior, Zeke…”

She was concerned that he was uncomfortable? That was almost humorous, considering Zeke did not allow himself to feel anything at all. The moment Zeke sensed Pieck’s warm hand on his knee, he rose from his seat on the bed, taking a few paces away from her and into the shadows cast by the shelving. She was advancing, and he would retreat. He turned to face her, causing his glasses to glint from the glow of the oil lamp.

“We were almost caught.” His voice had a tone of seriousness that he did not take often with her.

Her hand hovered in midair where he had left it due to his sudden escape from her, but she deliberately lowered it to her own knee, allowing him space. “Yes, but we weren’t ,” she emphasized, gazing at his features despite his obscurity. She was trying to see through him, and in this moment, she had never had such a difficult time. Zeke was always guarded, but this level of unreadability was stronger than any stone wall, iron bars locked in place. She would have to be patient. “You are one of the most intelligent people on Marleyan soil. Hopefully you don’t think I’m flattering myself if I said that my intelligence is presumably above-average. I’m sure hiding a tryst in a cavern wouldn’t be so difficult.”

“Yes, but if this continued into some kind of special relationship, we would have more chances of being caught.” The blond replied, continuing on the defensive. No flattery was necessary; Pieck was one of the smartest people he had ever met, but he wasn’t entirely convinced that she was thinking this through. He already had a lot of time to envision every possible scenario that could come of this.

“Oh.”

Zeke watched as Pieck turned her gaze to the oil lamp, watching the flame within flicker, casting a dance of shadows over her features. “Probability-wise, I guess that does make sense.” Pieck drained the rest of her wine, discarding the glass on the nightstand. “To be perfectly honest, I didn’t know that you would actually want to be in a relationship with me.”

Zeke’s grey eyes narrowed upon hearing Pieck’s comment as the breath he was holding escaped through his lips with a noise of disbelief. “Just what are you insinuating? You think I would be so flippant with you? Why, Piecky, I feel like I should be offended.” He finished the rest of his wine in a few gulps, taking a few paces to the left in order to set his glass down on the desk.

“Offended? Zeke…” As Zeke looked back to her, he noticed another change in her expression. Instead of encouragement in her smile, he saw a smile laced with something else entirely. Was it pain? No, it was different, more like resignation or hopelessness. Finally, Pieck looked uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation.

“I’ve seen them before, you know. Those girls… when they leave your room.” Her sentence hung in the air before she spoke again, Pieck’s voice so soft that he had to strain to hear her. “I hadn’t heard you ever talk about them, so I could only conclude that you weren’t in a committed relationship with any of them. I promise that I didn’t mean to see. I would come to your room to bring you something, or deliver a message. They would be… leaving…”

Ah, so now it made sense to him. The expression on his face did not allow him to lie to her. It was true; Zeke had sex with other women before, though it wasn’t many, and it certainly wasn’t anything of meaning. He figured that while he was cursed on this earth for another finite amount of years, he might as well see what all the fuss was about. Alcohol, cigarettes, gambling, sex--they weren’t anything of value. Furthermore, he was always very clear with his boundaries and expectations with any woman that entered his bed. There would be no feelings, there would be no relationship, there would be no marriage, and there certainly wouldn’t be any children. He always made certain of that.

“Yes…” He began, being careful with his words, “but you’re different. You are important to me. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Pieck seemed to consider his words, unable to stop that bubble of warmth from rising in her chest. She knew that she was important to him in some sort of way, even if it hadn’t been in the way that she had wanted for years. It was gratifying to hear Zeke say it aloud. “Why are you so concerned about our safety? They haven’t minded Eldian Warriors having relationships, even marriages, in the past. Why would they object, even if they did find out? Wouldn’t it be another fact swept under the rug? One that no one would talk about, even if others knew?”

“Yes, but those involve at least one civilian, not two members of their Warrior Unit. They would deem an in-unit relationship too emotionally compromised to follow orders and make sound judgment.” Zeke probably would have the same mindset as Pieck if it wasn’t for her accusing him of being emotional the last time they were on a battlefield. “They’d sweep it under the rug by discarding one of us, and we both know that I am too valuable to them for it to be me.” He paused, debating if he should say more. “I won’t allow that to happen.”

Zeke could see the gears turning in her mind, attempting to find some other conclusion to the scenario that he had brought up. After a minute, she seemed to understand his thought process, reaching the same conclusion. Pieck leaned down, unzipping and slipping out of her boots. She set them carefully to the side of the bed before standing up. As she padded closer and closer to him, her eyes never left Zeke’s own face. The expression was similar to what Zeke had seen in the cave, right before she had kissed him. Pieck was about to make another gamble.

“You know… I’ve cared for you for a long time, Zeke. I wasn’t able to tell you last time. It’s been years that I’ve had these feelings weighing on me. But I never once thought that we would be able to have a regular relationship. I never tricked myself into thinking that you and I could be that simple.” 

She stood right in front of him, her eyes alight with something fiery and new, or was it the candlelight again? “If you chose me, I don’t need to be called your girlfriend. I don’t need you to treat me specially. I don’t need to hold your hand in public, or even eventually have a ring.” Pieck reached forward and her delicate, slender fingers wound their way in between his own. “All I want… is to continue being your shadow on the battlefield. Let me protect you, as I always have. I can hold your hand, kiss you, any of it that you allow, all in private. Just…” 

Pieck bit her lower lip. She had thought finding the courage to kiss him for the first time had been tough; this felt more difficult than any tests the Marleyans had put her through. “... Just let me hold you after a fight… Let me protect you and show you how special you are. Not because Marley says you are, but because of something so simple, something that is just you , Zeke. Just let me care for you for as long as we have left.”

When Pieck started speaking, Zeke had the urge to run. He knew where her speech was going, and he wished she wouldn’t. It would be much easier if nothing changed between them. Yet, as much as he wanted to run, he could not will his legs to move. She was right; they weren’t simple. Nothing was simple. She was a distraction. He knew she was, yet why could he not turn away from her? He felt a tightness within his chest that he had not experienced before, it was like a line that broke away from it’s hold, searching and grasping to be tethered to something new. Zeke wanted to argue with her that he wasn’t special, that he was just a lowly Eldian that should have never been born into this world, an Eldian with the weight of a daunting task on his shoulders. And yet...

The small hint of a smile on his face had betrayed his resolve.

“That’s quite the confession, Piecky.” 

Pieck huffed, a sarcastic smile on her face. “That’s all you can say? I thought you were more eloquent than that.” Despite her words, her tone was affectionate, her voice soft. She had been worried that a confession would push him away from her irrevocably. But he hadn’t turned away from her. Zeke had used his fond nickname for her, and had even smiled. She took this as an encouragement as she squeezed his hands in hers, her other hand ghosting its way up his chest.

“Did you… like what happened in the cave, Zeke?” she asked. Her voice was a husky whisper in the relative silence of their room. 

Zeke could feel the mood in the room start to shift from her pure, honest confession and request to care for him to something more, something heated. He stiffened at her touch, that feeling in his chest only tightened as he felt her hand slide over his shirt, that metaphorical line had found a new anchor. It now latched onto her, though it was still loose and had slack. He had time to pull away if he wanted. He took a deep breath to center himself, but instead of calming him, it picked up something entirely different. It was something like an array of spices, hints of cinnamon, cardamom, ginger, and clove. That fragrance could not be contributed to anything else in the room. It was undeniably her, and it was captivating. He found his hand moving to rest ever so tenderly on her waist, like how one would carefully hold a thorny stem of a rose in order to appreciate its smell.

“Yes, I did.” Several long moments had passed before Zeke finally answered her, but when he did, his words sounded thick and definitive.

“Good…”

His admittance seemed to give her permission to continue, and Pieck strained on her tiptoes, using their interwoven hands as leverage for her balance. Her warm breath tickled under his chin as she carefully and deliberately pressed a single kiss to his collarbone. She paused, allowing him a moment to push her away if he wanted. But as Zeke continued to stand there, Pieck carefully worked her way up his neck, kissing every inch that she was allowed. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, giving her purchase to a sensitive nerve right behind that favored ear that Zeke always liked to scratch. Her slow, experimental kisses were molten lava, spreading from the top of his being down into his chest and beyond, searing a part of herself through every pathway in his body.

“Because… I would like to try it again…”

Zeke’s hand gripped on her waist just a little bit tighter. He could feel that line reeling in, the slack decreasing with every light kiss she left on his neck. With his free hand, he reached up to grab at her chin, pulling her away from his ear and holding her at an angle so that she was forced to look directly into his grey irises. He kept his hand there, forbidding her from breaking eye contact.

“Don’t be coy. Ask me directly.”

Pieck’s lips parted in surprise, her eyes locked with Zeke’s own. Her lids lowered as she gazed up at him with desire. He had seen plenty of women desire him, but the look in Pieck’s eyes was deeper than any ocean, as if he himself could just dive in, if he allowed himself to take the plunge. Pieck closed her eyes and leaned into his hand, relishing his touch on her skin, before her eyes flickered open once more.

“I want you to kiss me, Zeke. Please?”

Zeke’s heart beat faster and faster as Pieck asked the question he wanted to hear. She didn’t need to ask him twice. He knew that when he kissed this girl, that line would be forever taught and tethered to her. So he waited, leaving the younger woman in suspense for just a moment longer as he vowed to himself that such an arrangement between them would not get in the way of his overall goal. Then Zeke wrapped his arm around her waist fully and leaned down, closing the gap between them with a kiss. At his lips’ touch, Pieck melted within his arms like a piece of wrapped chocolate subjected to a warm summer’s day.

Her kiss was just as sweet. She played with the fine hairs that reached the base of his skull, twirling them around her fingers. Every tug sent a spark of pleasure down Zeke’s spine, and the shivers those pulls elicited only encouraged her to press her body closer. Pieck’s arms flexed, pulling herself upwards to press her chest against his, her stomach flush against his own. They were like puzzle pieces, shaped completely differently. Zeke was all straight edges and hardened muscle, while Pieck was softer, smaller, her willowy limbs not without their own strength. But together, she curved her body with wondrous precision, allowing them to become a complete and perfectly matched pair.

Pieck was not as shy this time around as she had been in the cavern. Her kiss slowly developed from a chaste, appreciative appetizer, just enough to satiate him, to a fire and hunger worthy of the main course. There was a determination present to prove herself, and she had two weeks to develop enough confidence to communicate to the War Chief exactly what she wanted, without words. He could feel that resolve in the way that she kissed him. Her lips continued to seek him out, knowing precisely when to nip or suck on his lower lip to inspire Zeke further. As she pressed her tongue against the seam of his lips, it was clearly evident that Pieck was dead set on learning and memorizing every curve and hollow of his mouth.

When it came to Zeke, this was possibly the easiest passcode Pieck ever had to decipher. The blond opened his mouth for her with no reservation, allowing her to explore the vault of his mouth. Zeke could taste their breath mingling together as he stroked his thumb along her jawline. He’d let her have it her way, at least for now. He sharply inhaled through his nose, drowning in the rich spices of her natural scent once more. His tense shoulders were finally able to relax, knowing that this time they would face no interruptions.

Pieck hummed with appreciation as she tasted his own complex flavor. It was a more dominant version of what she had smelled of him before. She inhaled deeply, transported to a pine forest, and the earthy ground beneath. There was a brightness, something tart to complicate the scent, and then there was the aftertaste of coffee, most likely from an earlier cup. It was intoxicating, more commanding to her than a drug, and she desperately wanted the most potent dose she could have.

Pulling back from their kiss, Pieck noticed a tremble in her own legs. She had been straining them to reach him for too long, and her constant tests from the weeks prior weren’t helping. Wanting to take control of the situation, the bearer of the Cart Titan placed her hands on Zeke’s biceps, pushing him towards the bed, like a captain guiding a ship to harbor. If she could have him make it to the bed, she knew it would be a place of relative safety for them both. Zeke stumbled as his heels hit the edge, and Pieck took advantage of his loss of balance to finish the job, pushing him down to sit on the edge.

“I… want to try something…”

Breathing heavily, the young woman fisted her brown, pleated skirt to hike the hem past her knees. Her lust-filled grey eyes, darker than he had ever seen them, never left his own, always judging, calculating, and adjusting to his reactions. She moved in, lifted a knee to brace herself, and then straddled over Zeke’s lap.

Once again, Zeke found his current situation to be entirely unexpected of Pieck, but not that he minded. A smirk slowly spread across the blond’s lips as he helped guide the young woman onto his lap.

“You can try whatever you like.”

. . .

After they had finished, Zeke looked up at the ceiling as he tried to catch his breath. “How did that feel? Are you okay?”

For several moments, Pieck had trouble responding to Zeke’s question. She felt like she was underwater, attempting to hear someone from the surface. Finally, his question seemed to register and she chuckled at him. “Of course, I’m okay. I know earlier I said that it was perfect… but I take it back,” she replied thoughtfully. “ This was perfect.”

She let her words hang in the air, allowing him time to respond. She knew that Zeke was not the kind of man who would appreciate elaborate declarations. However, Pieck was always honest with her assessments, even if she came off as blunt at times. She felt that Zeke deserved to know precisely what she was thinking of his performance.

A small smile graced Zeke’s lips, his grey eyes focusing down on her with a soft fondness. She had that classic sleepy, smiley expression on her face, only this time her cheeks were a bright pink and her lips a flush red.

“Good. I’m glad.”

This would normally be the part of the evening where either he or his partner would excuse themself and leave, spending the rest of the evening alone. Zeke did not have the luxury of having that option in this situation, forced to stay in this room or face severe consequences. In any other situation, he would have hated these circumstances, but with Pieck, no traces of disdain could be found within him. Truth of the matter is--he did not want to leave, and the change in feeling scared him.

He would push that fear aside and focus on a new agenda for the evening. He would wash off, he would join her under the covers that she was already snuggled deep within, they would have light conversation until she drifted off to sleep, and he would hold her until the sun came up, not leaving her side until she woke the following day.

The light hints of espresso that scented her raven colored hair would surely distract him from the worries that he had of what this new relationship could mean for them. No doubt she had her own worries too, but as he laid his head onto the pillow beside her, he knew he did not have to wander into foreign territory alone.

Whatever tomorrow brings, they could face it together.

Chapter Text

“Any updates on the Paradis Island Operation?” General Calpi inquired, a sense of tiredness could be heard in his tone as he leaned his cheek to rest against his hand. It was a question he has asked multiple times, and each time he received the same answer.

“Negative, sir.” General Magath responded, trying not to sound despondent. “We have been continuing to dispatch ships to the Paradis coastline, but there has been no sign of the Warrior Unit.”

“And we’ve received zero correspondence? Not even a distress signal?” Calpi questioned.

“That is correct, sir.”

Calpi sighed as he leaned back in his chair.

Silence filled the room for several moments until a lone hand protruded from the sitting figures at the round table. Calpi’s eyes darted over to the movement almost immediately.

“Excuse me, General. If I may have permission to speak?”

“Permission granted, Boy Wonder. Go ahead.”

Zeke rose from his chair, the newly turned twenty-three-year-old addressing the room with confidence and charisma. “It has been almost three years since the start of the Paradis Island Operation, and since it’s start we have received zero updates in regards to not only the progress of the mission, but also their whereabouts. There are many different scenarios that can be considered as to why there’s been a gap in communication, but since four of Marley’s Warriors are on enemy soil, it’s important to err on the side of caution in order to keep our prized assets out of the Devils’ hands.” 

Zeke stood just a little taller before continuing, his arms at his sides. “That is why I’d like to volunteer for a reconnaissance mission. The Beast Titan and Cart Titan are aptly suited for such an objective, not to mention both Pieck and I have the highest exam scores within the history of the Warrior program. Together, I can assure you that we can bring you useful information to then determine the next steps of the Operation.”

The General drummed his fingers against the table as he mulled the proposition over. Magath spoke up to add his thoughts before Calpi weighed in. “While I do agree we need intel, I am not convinced that Marley should risk having all of their titans, minus the Warhammer, deployed. It will leave us exposed for an attack.”

“Yes, but Yeager has a point. I’d prefer it if the Operation continued to be a recovery mission, rather than a rescue mission.” Calpi took a breath before continuing. “We’ll give them another six months. If those kids don’t turn up by then, we’ll start the talks for a recon mission.”

Magath then turned to face Zeke. “That’s all for now, War Chief. You’re dismissed.”

“Sir.” Zeke saluted both of his superior officers before heading towards the door.

“Oh, and Yeager…?” Magath addressed him once more, causing Zeke to have his hand idle on the doorknob.

“Yes, sir?”

A few moments passed before Magath shook his head, not remembering what he wanted to say. “Never mind. Forget it. Whatever it was, it must’ve not been important.”

“Of course, sir.” The blond replied with a nod before departing from the meeting room, closing the door behind him.

Zeke would have to agree; his birthday was not important.

He walked down the cobblestone street to the Warrior dormitory while adjusting the bag that hung from his shoulder. Marley’s government required that all Warriors live in the dormitories to “protect their safety.” However, given the routine check-ins from Marleyan soldiers, it was clear that the choice was only to protect the Marleyan citizens, should any Shifter get the wrong idea about how to use their power. It had been six years since he had moved in, and since the departure of the other four Warriors, only he and one other resided in the dorms. As he rounded the corner, he was surprised to see that very person sitting uncharacteristically outside of the building. 

Pieck sat on the stoop, leaning back against the building’s wall for support. Her eyes weren’t closed, but she seemed to gaze up towards the sky, watching the clouds with a dream-like expression on her face. Her legs were tucked up to her chest, and something rested in her lap. It was difficult to see exactly what it was from this distance in the bright, morning light, but it seemed to be some sort of lumpy parcel.

The crunching of Zeke’s boots against the pebbles seemed to shake her from her daydream. Upon seeing who it was, Pieck gave Zeke her classic warm, sleepy smile that she seemed to reserve for him alone.

“Good morning, War Chief. How was your morning meeting?”

Zeke held up his hand to block the blinding sun from his eyes, allowing his vision to settle on Pieck.

“Morning, Piecky. The same as most monthly reports go. General Calpi decided to consider moving to the planning stages of a recon mission should we receive no communication from Marcel and the others within the next six months.”

The blond wished it would be sooner rather than later. Zeke had always thought sending the four youngest members of the Warrior Unit was a mistake. If they had sent him and Pieck, perhaps he would have already achieved Eldia’s salvation. But instead, he had waited three years already for the other Warriors to unite him with the Coordinate, and he couldn’t afford to wait another three more. If they couldn’t do it; he would try to persuade the Marleyan military to let him do it himself.

“I wonder what those four are even up to right now,” He sighed, squinting from that blasted sunlight as he spoke. He stifled a singular huff of amusement, remembering that he and Reiner shared a birthday. He had hoped Braun’s was enjoyable at the very least. The thought caused Zeke to glance down at the parcel at Pieck’s lap.

“What’s that?” He questioned, gesturing towards it with a nod of his head.

Pieck had been imagining what their fellow Warriors could possibly be doing on Paradis Island at that very moment, so Zeke’s sudden question came as a bit of a surprise to her. “O-Oh yes, this!” The young woman slowly stood up, her movements stiff as if she had been sitting in that position for a long time. She held out the bundle with two hands, presenting it with a bright smile.

“It’s your birthday present, of course! You didn’t think I would forget, did you?” she asked with a laugh.

It was obvious that Pieck had put a good deal of care into the wrapping of the present. She had used a colored wrapping paper, a brilliant yellow, which was a rare find for an Eldian. She had even used some twine to complete the look with a rustic bow. The only thing amiss was how awkwardly shaped it was.

Zeke looked down either side of the empty street before giving her a look. “I thought we agreed to celebrate our birthdays together. They are just days apart, after all.” He didn’t care much for his birthday, but when he could celebrate Pieck’s simultaneously, he could create the illusion that he did. He took it from her, weighing the wrapped object in his hands.

“Would you like me to open it now or later?”

“You should open it now. It makes more sense to open it here,” Pieck replied mysteriously. Pieck had sensed Zeke’s discomfort about his birthday for nearly as long as she had known the blond, but had never fully asked him about it. She allowed the mutual illusion to go unsaid, if it only meant that she was allowed to celebrate him just as much as he wished to celebrate her special day. But this year, the Titan Shifter had decided to break tradition by coordinating a few surprises for the Boy Wonder.

With a certain skepticism to his movements, Zeke carefully unwrapped the present to reveal the contents inside. His eyebrows furrowed as he studied the now revealed gift in his hand.

“A baseball glove…?” Zeke questioned aloud. He was fumbling for what to say, which was a rare circumstance. “Pieck, you know I already have a glove. I wish you hadn’t spent your own money on something like this when the one I have is still in good condition.” Zeke had always been conscious of Pieck’s finances ever since they were children. His family had always been more well off than hers, and even with her Warrior’s salary, he knew the majority of it went into her father’s medical care.

The raven-haired woman only laughed, reaching forward to take the glove out of his hands. “No, you don’t understand. This isn’t for you. Well, it is for you, but it’s not for you to wear.” Pieck carefully slipped her dainty hand inside of the warm leather, squeezing her thumb and fingers together to make the glove move. “It’s for me. You know, to play catch with you,” she grinned with a shrug. “I figured that the wall wasn’t a very good partner.”

Zeke blinked in confusion as he scratched at his sideburns. The newly grown-in facial hair on either side of his face did not minimize the youthfulness in his expression. “ You want to play catch with me ?” The blond still didn’t believe it. “Every time I have asked you before, you have declined. Are you sure?”

“Yes, Zeke, I’m sure,” she laughed, starting to explain. “It’s your birthday, after all. I just don’t know how good I’ll be, since I’ve never tried before. That’s why I usually turned you down. But if I have you as my teacher, I’m sure I’ll pick it up quickly.”

Pieck walked closer, quickly surveying the area. The street they stood on was devoid of people, but that didn’t mean that someone couldn’t be looking out of a window. She reached over, tugging just once on his sleeve in a subtle code of affection. Ever since their previous Marleyan tour two years ago, the Warrior duo had mutually become… something more. They had never put a name onto it, and perhaps that was just as well. Pieck knew that she couldn’t hold his hand in the street, and she wouldn’t try. This is what she had to do to keep both of them safe.

“Where should we go?” Pieck asked with a tilt of her head. “The alley? Or is there a field somewhere, with more space?”

A small smile graced Zeke’s features for just a split moment that one could blink and they’d miss it. Ever since he had to say goodbye to Tom Ksaver six years ago, he was devoid of a catch partner. His love for the game never diminished, however, and he took to throwing the ball at a wall during his free time or after meetings. This small gesture from Pieck meant more to him than he realized.

“The alley should be fine. We can’t use the field without authorization.” Zeke gave her a playful nudge with his elbow before heading off down the street. “Follow me.”

The pair only had to travel a few blocks before they made it to their destination. “So how much do you know? Or are we starting with the basics?” The blond asked casually, removing his bag from his shoulder and unzipping it to take out his glove and a well-used baseball.

Pieck squeezed her glove as she thought, noticing that the stiff leather was tough for her to move. It would obviously take time and practice to break it in. “I would say I’m most likely a beginner, so the basics would be helpful. I mean, you just have to throw it, right?” Pieck lifted her arm, miming the movement with a flick of her wrist. It was already clear that her form was… uneducated.

“And catching it, yes.” Zeke replied, knowing that whatever was about to happen wouldn’t be anything less than interesting. “Here, how about I stand street-side and you against the wall.” He was confident that at the very least he could prevent whatever Pieck threw at him from rolling into the street. “You’ll want to try to catch the ball in the webbing of your glove so that way you don’t hurt your hand.” Zeke pointed to the part of the glove in question before taking a few steps back. “I’m going to gently toss it to you for you to get the hang of it, ready?” 

The male did the softest windup that Pieck had ever seen from him, counting so that she could ready herself. “One...two...three…” Zeke lobbed it in an underhand toss to her, high enough so that way she could catch it at her chest, but slow enough to prevent her from missing.

Or so he thought.

Pieck kept her hand lifted to the side, as if she was going to wave to someone she knew, completely unmoving. The ball rose high into the air, getting lost in the bright sky to Pieck’s dark eyes, and dropped right at her feet with a definitive “thunk.” The ball wobbled to the side of the alley while they both watched. She looked back at him, confused. “I thought that you were throwing it to my glove. Isn’t that the goal?”

A silence fell over the alley as Zeke tried to stifle a laugh. “No, Pieck, you have to move to catch it.” Zeke jogged over to where the ball rested to scoop it up. “Well, you’re not entirely wrong, but I’m not pitching to you. No one is trying to hit it. We’re just passing back and forth.” The blond wasn’t too sure how to explain the nuances of baseball without her getting even more confused. 

He walked over, grabbing her hand in order to place the ball into it. “Here, you try throwing it this time.” Zeke once again jogged back to his original spot, holding his glove up to give her something to aim at.

Pieck looked down at the ball as if it was some foreign object from another planet. She vaguely remembered Zeke saying something in the past about ‘fingers on the laces.’ Presuming that the red-dyed yarn were the “laces,” she set her fingers on top. She wound her arm back, swung it forward and released the ball.

However, Pieck’s fingers released said ball before her arm was even in line with her head. Despite Pieck’s attempt at a follow-through, the ball sailed directly up towards the clouds, nearly meeting the height of the building next to them before plopping down in front of Pieck’s feet once more, her arm still outstretched towards Zeke. The dark-haired woman watched Zeke as his head tilted upward, eyes on the ball, and then directly back towards the ground. She stayed still for a moment before lowering her arm, looking down at the ball, and then measuredly back at Zeke.

“Zeke. I think your baseball is broken.”

Zeke pursed his lips together as he took a slow inhale to prevent himself from laughing. He wasn’t laughing at her, per say. If anything, he found the whole display to be adorable. “No no, my dear Pieck, I think we just need to fine tune some things.”

Zeke approached her once more, picking up the baseball as he walked to stand in front of her. “Throwing is more than just your arm.” He placed the ball in her hand before stepping to her side. “Firstly, your feet need to be square towards where you’re throwing.” The blond placed his hands on her hips, pivoting her body so that her back was facing him. “Take a wide stance.”

Pieck felt her cheeks warm the moment he placed his hands on her. She couldn’t help it; he had been occupied with Marleyan orders from top-brass recently, and they hadn’t had much time or energy for just the two of them in the past few days. She felt like she was a teenager again, doing something that she shouldn’t be, and a dangerous thrill shot through her. Pieck glanced to make sure that no one else was watching them before she followed her War Chief’s directions.

“Wider than my shoulder width? Or feet lined up with my shoulders?” she questioned, wanting precise instruction.

Zeke raised an eyebrow. He could not tell if she truly wanted such detailed direction, or if she just wanted his hands on her for a few moments longer. Regardless, he didn’t dare ask nor object. “Wider than your shoulders.” The War Chief then slid his hands up her torso and along her upper back to then rest on her shoulders. “Your shoulders should be square too,” he started moving them in the appropriate direction, “though you don’t need to stand so rigidly.” He gave her shoulders a tight squeeze as he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Relax, Finger.”

An involuntary shiver ran up her spine, causing the baby hair at the edge of her neck to stand on end. She whispered in return, “It’s a little difficult to relax like this…” With his hands on her, with him trailing his touch up her back, with him whispering in her ear... 

“I would think I would need to be at the ready if I was expecting you to throw something at me, wouldn’t I, Yeager?” she replied to ease the tension, chuckling at her own joke. For a moment, she leaned back into his touch, only to straighten up after the two seconds of self-indulgence. Even if she ended up being terrible at baseball, she didn’t want his lesson to end.

Zeke chuckled at her question. “We’ll get to catching later.” He then moved his right hand down to tap on her right thigh. “Now shift your weight onto your back leg and then stride forward with the front. It helps you throw the ball farther.”

Taking a slow inhale and exhale to promote focus, Pieck practiced shifting her weight a few times from her back leg to the front. “So when I rock back, my arm goes back,” she said, processing her analysis of the physics as she moved through the motions in front of him. “And when I step forward, that’s when my arm should go forward, too… Correct?”

“No, when you step forward, your arms break apart.” Zeke moved Pieck’s arms as if she was a human marionette. “Use your glove elbow to kind of aim where you’re throwing,” he began, moving to place his much larger hand over Pieck’s right hand. “When you bring it up to throw, let your fingers be on the top of the baseball…” he moved Pieck’s hand slowly in an arch to demonstrate, “...before releasing.” Zeke made a small ‘pow’ type of noise at the moment when Pieck should release. “That should help prevent you from throwing too early.” 

Zeke gave her a wink before he stepped away to go back to his spot for the third time, and Pieck couldn’t help but think that his wink should be considered illegal. “Okay, now put it all together and--” the blond punched the inside of his glove, “--throw it right here.” He held up his glove, bracing himself for whatever was going to meet him on the receiving end of Pieck’s throw.

The Cart Titan shifter closed her eyes, reviewing every one of Zeke’s instructions in her mind’s eye. Zeke watched as Pieck set her feet, shifted her weight back and pointed her glove towards Zeke’s body. For a first true attempt, her form seemed to have improved dramatically.

She paused, remembering what he said about throwing the ball further. Figuring it would also provide more power, Pieck dug her back foot into the ground, imagining herself as a wound-up spring. She counted down and released all of her tension at once, the spring expanding into motion. Her leg drove forward, arm swinging, fingers releasing on the top of the ball, all for the ball to line-drive straight at what she had been staring at: Zeke’s face.

If it had been anyone else, it probably would’ve broken their nose, but not for the Boy Wonder. He shifted his glove upwards, snatching the ball with a velocity akin to a viper striking at its prey. Zeke’s face peeked out at her from the other side of his glove as he brought his lips together to make a descending whistle. “Wow, Piecky, that’s quite a throw! Though try not to hit a guy with glasses, would you?” He chuckled as he widened his stance, bending at the knees to hover his gloves just above the dirt. “Copy me. I’ll teach you to catch grounders first.” 

Zeke knew Pieck had never been a fast girl. Her lack of speed is what actually had her stick out to him so many years ago. Because of that, he thought it would be best to work from the ground up, rather than risk many trips from getting the ball out of the main street.

The blond bowled the baseball over to her, leaving a mist of dirt in its wake. “Scoop it up!”

Pieck crouched in a similar position, her knees bent beneath her pleated skirt, causing the bottom to brush against the ground. She lowered her glove, leaning to one side to allow the ball to glide right into the pocket. Grinning, she stood up, finally holding the ball in her glove. “There! I did it!” she laughed, transferring the ball into her hand and (slightly robotically) throwing it back to Zeke. This time, her throw was more gentle, and although he had to take a few steps forward, Zeke was able to catch it. “Do it again. I want to practice this form.”

Zeke felt a foreign warmth in his chest, a physical sensation that he only ever experienced with two people in his life. The first was with Tom Ksaver, the second was with her, and the only common denominators were the gloves and the ball. He credited it to the thrill of a good game of catch, but as he looked at her sunsoaked features, perhaps it’s…

He would not allow himself to finish the thought.

“Great job, Pieck!” Zeke praised her with a smile as he dropped the ball into his right hand. “This time, try using your non-glove hand to trap the ball into the glove once it rolls in. That way it doesn’t run the risk of popping out.”

The War Chief once again bowled the ball to her, wanting her to build up her confidence with grounders before moving onto throwing. “At this rate, you’ll be a star baseball player by your birthday.”

It was a perfect comment that allowed for a perfect shift in focus away from his own birth.

“Speaking of, I’m looking forward to giving you your own present, as well as a dinner and dessert of choice.” Zeke commented, readying himself to receive Pieck’s next throw. Due to watchful eyes, the two of them could never make anything between them look too much like a romantic outing, so celebrations such as birthdays served as a way to satisfy all the elements of what would be considered a traditional date.

Keeping her eyes on the repeatedly approaching baseball, Pieck replied, “You know my dinner and dessert preferences by now. No lavender or rose in the cake, and no--”

“Chocolate, unless it’s on top. I know.” Zeke cut her off as he waited to see if she fielded the ball successfully. “Certainly not the hot variety served in cups.”

Pieck couldn’t help but grin as Zeke finished her sentence. She couldn’t help but feel that they had grown significantly closer after the past two years of being in each other’s company. Given that they were the only two Warriors left on Marleyan soil, who could blame them? He had always been able to read her particularly well, but Pieck felt blissfully happy that Zeke paid so close attention to what she liked. She never had been able to shake the negative experience that she had with the hot chocolate, and would still only enjoy the flavor in small amounts. After catching the next grounder, Pieck pretended to adjust her imaginary glasses and point at him. “Exactly right, as expected of Zeke.” 

The Boy Wonder only huffed in amusement, raising an eyebrow at her impression. “Are we imitating each other now? I haven’t practiced my ‘Pieck’ impression yet, but hypothetically it would involve me crawling down the hallway towards your room at midnight with my hair in my face to scare the living daylights out of you.”

His “hypothetical” certainly sounded like an actual past experience.

Pieck giggled at the memory. Over the years, she had embraced her features and tendencies that others had formerly deemed as “creepy.” Now she simply utilized them to play the occasional prank on her War Chief. “Now, do I get any hints about what my present is going to be this year? I enjoy guessing what I think you would want to give me.”

“No hints. You always guess it correctly when I give you a hint. Let me surprise you for once, please.” Zeke replied rather definitively, holding up his glove for her next throw.

“Heh, all right, you can’t afford another lost bet, after all. I promise that I’ll go easy on you this year.” Pieck straightened and released the ball; even she could see that her throws were improving. After a few more grounders, Zeke noticed her expression adjusting, becoming more thoughtful as she gazed at him. “Speaking of promises, you never did tell me… why is it that you dislike celebrating your birthday so much?”

“I don’t recall promising you anything that had to deal with my birthday.” Zeke’s statement was technically truthful, though he had an inkling as to what she was trying to allude to. “It’s just…” The ball lingered in his glove as he dwelled on her question, causing a disruption in the rhythm of their game. “I never got anything that I wanted for my birthdays, so after a while, it’s second-nature to just not expect anything at all.”

If you don’t expect anything, then you won’t feel disappointed, was what he wanted to say, though it was a thought that would never become verbalized. Sure, his parents always remembered his birthday and had always got him a gift, but they weren’t the ones who made him a cake, they weren’t the ones who were there as he opened his presents, they weren’t the ones who sang happy birthday to him, and they weren’t the ones who were there when he blew out his candles, yet they were the ones who he always wasted his wish on, one that never came true. A wish to play with them and spend quality time with them, familial moments that didn’t involve secret restoration plans.

Zeke squeezed the ball tightly within his glove. That wish died long ago, and it died along with them.

The woman tilted her head to the side, considering him for a long moment. Although she couldn’t read his mind to know what memories haunted him, she could see the array of subtle shifts on his face to clue her in. “That must have been hard,” she sympathized, her warm gray-brown eyes trying to see through Zeke’s layers of facades. “But I think you know the promise that I meant.” Zeke was right; the original promise didn’t necessarily have to do with his birthday. However, Pieck had always suspected that the reason why Zeke didn’t like his birthday was interwoven with why Zeke had chosen this particular path in his life. “You never told me why you chose to become a Warrior. You said you would, once we were both confirmed for the position.”

“Oh wait, I was going to ask you... why did you become a candidate?”

“It’s a secret. Maybe someday, when you’re a Warrior too, I’ll tell you.”

“You’re right, I did.” When he made this offer so many years ago, his ten-year-old self assumed that the statistics of them both becoming Warriors were so small. He clearly didn’t consider Pieck’s fierce determination within those odds. Perhaps this was actually the first bet that he lost with her, and it was one that had relatively high stakes. This promise, however, was before he developed his euthanasia plan, so at the very least, he could omit his revised reasoning of becoming a Warrior.

“But, I don’t think now is exactly the right time.” Zeke said, miming a throw to prepare her for her first overhand toss. “I am quite enjoying our game of catch.” The blond threw it to her, using less than half of his full power, but towards the general area of her glove.

Pieck’s thoughts had still been focused on Zeke’s answer, so the change in her physical routine of catching grounders caught her off guard. Although the change surprised her, her soldier-trained instincts kicked in and her glove hand shot upwards. She nearly fumbled the ball, but her other hand trapped the ball in the pocket: a successful catch. 

Pieck beamed at him. “I am, too,” she replied. She wound her arm back, but her pride at her success combined with her thoughts of Zeke’s unspoken answer distracted her. Later, in hindsight, she would realize that she released the ball too soon. Zeke jumped and stretched his glove up into the sky, but not even his six foot stature could save this ball. It sailed up, up, up, over Zeke’s head…

And directly through a third-story window.

The sound shocked the Warriors out of their relaxing activity, the echo of shattering glass ringing in both of their ears. Pieck stood frozen in her stance, her arm still outstretched in the direction of the window.

Zeke quickly turned around, eyes widening at seeing the broken window pane. 

“Zeke, what do we do?”

As soon as she asked her question, the window suddenly lit up from an unknown light source, followed by loud voices of both anger and concern.

“Run!” Zeke exclaimed, pivoting to run farther into the alley towards Pieck. He grabbed her by the hand, only to yank her back towards the street and start sprinting down the sidewalk. “This way!” The blond reached down to grab his bag before making a sudden sharp turn. They darted recklessly across the road to go down another side alley that wasn’t a dead end and hidden from the vantage point of the scene of the crime.

As they ran, they could hear distant yelling of “Hey!”, “Come back here!”, and “Stupid kids!”.

The protests did not cause Zeke to stop as he navigated the pair through a zigzag route of back streets and sidewalks. Despite feeling like he was dragging Pieck along, he did not let go of her hand, even though she could not keep up with both his stride length and speed.

Once the Boy Wonder determined they were far enough away from the scene of the crime, he had them come to a halt in a quiet alley. The passageway was lined with clotheslines that hung from the second floor windows, and the variety of drying garments that were suspended from above obscured them from any passerby on the street.

Trying to catch his breath, Zeke leaned against the stucco wall, only to slide down into a sitting position. He doubled over, obscuring his face from Pieck’s view as he rested his head in his hands.

Pieck was panting, their flight from the alley leaving her breathless as she had been pulled along. But as she looked down at Zeke, sitting on the ground with his face covered, she felt a wave of remorse wash over her. She crouched down next to him, setting her hand on his knee. “Zeke, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean for you to lose your baseball like that,” she started, feeling just as small as one of the pebbles she could see as she stared at the ground in shame. “I didn’t think I would be so bad at the game. I know that you don’t really like your birthday, and I wanted to surprise you, so you could have a day that you enjoyed… but I hope that I didn’t ruin the day…”

Pieck could feel Zeke’s body shake as she gave her apology, growing ever more worried that she upset him so greatly on a day that he already didn’t find much joy in. Her words, however, were interrupted by a muffled snicker from him. The young woman blinked in utter confusion as she heard the snickers grow louder into chuckles. Catching Pieck by surprise, Zeke suddenly threw his head back in laughter. He wasn’t crying, he was laughing . And laughing hard. His laughter soon crescendoed into hearty guffaws that echoed throughout the alley. “Ruined my day?!” Zeke could barely get out the question, “Piecky, this is the best birthday I’ve ever had in a long time!”

In all of their thirteen years of friendship, this was the most Pieck had ever heard Zeke laugh. In fact, she had never heard laughter quite like this from him. The large smile on his face was a gift all on its own, and her chest filled close to bursting with warm affection for the rare view she was privileged to have. Zeke removed his glasses to wipe away the tears that were brimming on the corners of his eyes. “It’s a good thing we’re not in wartime. I’d be afraid that I would’ve turned everyone around us into titans right now on accident.” The thought only made Zeke laugh harder, though after a few moments, he was trying to calm himself down. “I know you have big dreams, but try not to aim for the stars next time, huh?”

Pieck’s expression softened as she squeezed his knee. “I’ll make sure that my dreams are far more grounded next time, War Chief.” It was an amusing notion, Pieck thought, of Zeke thinking that she had big dreams. At this current moment in her life, she had already achieved most of her personal goals. She had become a Warrior, her father was receiving the medical care that he needed, and the most impossible dream that she had thought of was sitting right in front of her. The only thing she wanted was freedom for Eldians, but the fruition of that dream seemed so far off.

Still feeling her heart pounding as she gazed down at Zeke, Pieck straightened and offered her hand to him. “We should be getting back to the dormitory. Shall we go together?”

“Always.” Zeke nodded, accepting her hand in order to rise to his feet. Feeling they were concealed enough within the curtains of clothing, Zeke bent down to place a soft, warm kiss onto her lips. He parted from her quickly, though his hand lingered around her own as they navigated back through the way they came. Just as they made it to where the alley joined with the sidewalk, his hand broke away from hers.

Their short walk back to the dormitory didn’t take long. As they entered the building and went up the stairs, Zeke asked her what they knew to be a repeating question. “Would you like to stop by for some coffee?” It was practically a routine for them at this point and the question acted as a code word. They go into the dorms, Zeke would ask her a rather innocent question where they were among public ears, and once they got to his room, it was up to them if they were too occupied with other activities to take the coffee pot off of the burner.

The corner of Pieck’s mouth flickered up in a flash of a smirk before the evidence was gone, her neutral expression replacing it. She knew the code phrase well. “Yes, I think some coffee would be nice. It might help to wake me up. I get so tired after lunch time.” The two walked down the remainder of the hallway, ending up at Zeke’s door. Just as Zeke reached for the doorway, two small hands reached around from behind him to cover his eyes. Just below his ear, he could feel Pieck whispering, “Can you humor me? Keep your eyes closed until I say so.”

A single eyebrow raised, but Zeke gave in to her seemingly harmless request. It was unusual for Pieck to ask him for something. He felt her hand on his, guiding him to open the door. A gentle pressure on his lower back had him take the few steps needed to enter into the room. He heard the door shut, Pieck clicking the lock into place. “Almost there, just a minute more,” he heard her say. He made a note as her boots thumped against the wooden floorboards, his mind’s eye trying to create the scene for him. He heard her move around the room in a circle, noticed the sound of the shifting of fabric, and well as two metallic clicks. It was unnerving for him, a soldier who required the use of his senses, to be left so vulnerable. Just as his hand started to move up towards his ear, a sure sign of his unease, Pieck was there to hold his hand and give it a squeeze.

“All right. Open.”

When Zeke opened his eyes, the scene was something akin to what he had always dreamed of as a child. The raven-haired beauty had drawn all of the curtains, blocking the brilliant rays of the midafternoon sun, casting the room in a cozy shadow. Along the far back wall, she had folded and cut yellow paper (suspiciously similar to the wrapping paper from the glove) to create a sun-motif banner. Hanging from the banner was a simple sign in Pieck’s own handwriting: “Happy Birthday, Zeke.” The final touch to the room was a three-tiered spice cake that filled the space with its scent of cinnamon and ginger. White cream cheese frosting covered the top, dripping over the edges and a single blue candle was lit in the very center of the clearly homemade cake.

“What...possessed you to do all of this?” Meaning it more so as a rhetorical question, Zeke brought a closed fist to his mouth, looking as if he was studying the scene. It almost felt off, like this wasn’t supposed to be for him, as it was something he never had. He felt the sudden rush of tears beginning to pool in the well of his grey eyes. Not willing to allow them to brim, he closed them. “This was very kind of you, Pieck.” The blond commented quietly, breaking away from Pieck’s hand to adjust his glasses, concealing his emotions further. He took a breath to steady himself, his way of suppressing any waves of emotions from reaching the shore. “Shall I blow out the candle? I wouldn’t want it to drip onto your cake.”

The Cart Titan shifter sat down at the table, gesturing for him to follow. She folded her hands, chin resting on the tops of her fingers as she gave him a coy smile. “Of course. After all, you have to make a wish. It’s tradition.”

Zeke followed to circle around to the other side of the cake. He rested both of his hands onto the table as he stared intently into the singular candle flame, the dull light reflecting off the lenses of his glasses. “What good are wishes for people like us?”

Pieck’s gaze softened after hearing his question. She was starting to understand just how lackluster his past experiences with birthdays had really been. She whispered her response, “Zeke. Wishes are all we have.”

At her response, Zeke gazed into the flame pensively. He took a slow, deep inhale as he decided just what wish he wanted to make. He didn’t have much hope for wishes, but surprisingly to him, Eldia’s salvation was not the first thing that came to his mind.

As Pieck watched her lover blow out his candle, the warm sunlight highlighted his chiseled features. Gone were the soft edges of his face from when he was younger, when her innocent crush had first started. Time continued to pass for them, and it ticked by faster for those who had been chosen as Warriors of Marley. It would be rare for her to see Zeke laugh or smile in the same boisterous way as she had today. She closed her eyes, replaying the image and sound of his laugh over and over like a film.

“Oh, by the way?” Pieck said quietly, opening her eyes to look at him with a soft smile. “I don’t need a present for my birthday. You already gave me one.”

Chapter Text

“And over here are twenty rounds of flares, several lengths of rope, and a month and a half of rations…”

Pieck marked the items off of her flimsy clipboard as a crewmate guided her around the cargo hold of the ship. Her pencil’s lead was growing shorter by the second, which was no surprise to her. That was the third time during their voyage that she had been requested to check the status of their supplies for their upcoming mission. Why it needed to be checked so often, she wasn’t entirely sure. Perhaps it was just something for her to do. The higher-ups reasoned that the Cart Titan would be transporting the supplies during the mission, so Pieck herself should be responsible for their upkeep for the entire time. Frankly at this rate, her pencil, her own mind, and the patience of this crew member weren’t going to hold out.

“And these are the fluid crates, along with the gas canisters,” the crewman drolled, rolling his eyes, “but you already know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do. Thank you, sir, for your time,” Pieck replied, writing down the time and date with her own signature. “You are dismissed.”

As the man let out a sigh of relief to punctuate his escape, Pieck’s eyes were drawn back to the large supply of crates that had been previously mentioned. She stared at the boxes and casks as an involuntary shiver ran through her. She knew that what those barrels contained was necessary to their mission, but she didn’t like thinking about the effects of that particular liquid.

Assuming she had allowed enough time for the other man to leave, Pieck left the cargo hold to stop by her own bedroom. She dropped the clipboard on her own disheveled bed before walking back into the hallway. Pieck felt the ship rise and fall, causing her to stumble as a particularly large wave seemed to crash into the ship. She stuck a hand out against the wall to steady herself. The constant swaying of the ship was nauseating, and Pieck reflected that she should have eaten less of her dinner an hour ago. She greatly desired to take a nap, but she knew from previous experience that rarely seemed to help. Some fresh air would do her good.

As Pieck emerged onto the deck, her sharp gray-brown eyes analytically scanned this area of the ship for others, beyond the regular crew. Most of anyone of her own acquaintance seemed to be below deck, with bellies full, ready to retire to telling stories, playing card games, and drinking. Stepping past the mast, Pieck was able to see a silhouette that she recognized immediately.

Zeke stood near the bow of the ship with his back to her, the thin stream of wisping smoke evidence of a cigarette that she could not see. He leaned on the railing, staring out towards the skyline. He was outlined with the brilliant oranges and magentas near the horizon, fading up into the soft pink and lilac clouds, hinting at the oncoming night. This softening dark palette certainly didn’t match his aesthetic, in Pieck’s opinion, but from the set of his shoulders she could tell it matched his mood. It was as if he was reflecting on an ending of something, and she was determined to find out what that was.

As silently as a panther, Pieck prowled behind her target, sure of her careful footsteps. Just when she had reached his strong back, she lifted up onto her tiptoes to whisper in his favored ear.

“Don’t fall in!”

The sudden voice in his ear caused Zeke to sharply inhale through his cigarette. It burned his chest before his lungs expelled it in a small coughing fit. “If I did, it would’ve been your fault.” He chided, waving the smoke out of both of their faces. “That would have been quite the embarrassing story for you to attempt to explain to the Marleyan military.”

The blond extended his hand over the railing of the boat to flick the ashes off of the tip of his cigarette and into the water. His grey eyes shifted forwards once more, scanning the ocean to where the sky meets the sea. The War Chief had parked himself up here for a reason, and it wasn’t for a smoke break. He had waited years to see this scenery, with only his imagination to paint it for him previously, and he did not want to miss it coming into view.

He took another drag from his cigarette, tilting his chin up to blow the smoke into the crisp twilight air. “What have you been up to? Outside of meals, I’ve hardly seen you since we departed.” The body of water that separated Marley from Paradis was approximately 250 miles. It was a two and a half day boat trip, and they were nearing the end of their voyage.

The woman beside him heaved a dramatic sigh, slumping over the railing to gaze in the same direction as Zeke. “I’ve been requested to continuously check the supplies that I’ll be carrying, as part of my duties. With the frequency they want me to inspect them, you would think they were worried of the crewmen stealing something of value.”

She reflected on what those valuable assets might be. There was nothing special about rations, rope, and potential firearms, if needed. Then her thoughts settled on the crates. Contained within them was one of Marley’s greatest, most terrifying weapons in history: Zeke’s spinal fluid. A misplaced bottle could mean complete mayhem. Given, it was only truly dangerous if paired with its activation requirement, the Beast Titan’s scream. Pieck swallowed hard. There had been so many boxes…

“I noticed there is quite the load of spinal fluid for this mission,” she murmured, leading into her question. She subtly scooted her body closer, her elbow brushing against his. “It seems they took a lot this time. How are you feeling?”

The elder of the pair glanced down at her, his glasses reflecting the sunset off of his lenses, though it did nothing to hide his tired eyes. “It’s nothing I’m not used to. With another night’s rest, I’ll be fine.”

The plan decided upon by the Marleyan military and its two reserve Warriors was straightforward: 1) Determine if any of the walls had been breached. 2) Invade the most outlying, still fortified wall. 3) Turn a remote village within that wall into titans via Zeke’s spinal fluid. 4) The fear of a breach will flush out the Coordinate, as well as the other four members of the Warrior Unit, should they have been compromised, and 5) Have the controlled titans converge to a singular location in order to ambush the Coordinate and recover the Warrior Unit. It was a plan that the Beast and the Cart should be able to easily execute. The repetitive spinal taps, however, did cause him to neglect his appearance. His hair had grown, the blond strands towards the back of his head now long enough to rest lower on his neck, and he had now sported a full beard that would only grow thicker in time. The look made him appear rugged and intimidating.

“If it’s for the sake of the mission, I will provide what I can.”

A change in the horizon line caught Zeke’s attention. It was just barely visible, but clearly defined within the blanket of light from the setting sun: the shores of Paradis island, it’s small docking station, and its bordering wall along the coast.

The blond’s breath hitched. Ever since childhood, his sleep had been plagued by that very wall, but his imagination fueled within his nightmares did not compare to seeing the real thing. The very thought of knowing that he was almost sent here eighteen years ago made his limbs feel twice as heavy. Zeke’s bright grey irises dulled to slate as his eyes glossed over, falling inward within the vicious torture chamber of his mind. That wall had to be at least thirty feet. Were his parents pushed off of it? Or did they jump together? Did they survive the fall? Or were they killed instantly? Perhaps one was turned into a titan while the other ran for their life? Did they use their last breath to curse their traitorous son’s name?

His fists gripped the railing of the ship tighter, causing his knuckles to turn white. The relentless barrage of questions that flooded his mind made him forget about the cigarette that perched between his lips as a chunk of ash fell at his feet.

Pieck watched Zeke’s microexpressions change and evolve like the tide. Every twitch of his mouth, crinkle near his eyes, wrinkle of his nose; it all fascinated her. But as she watched his hands tighten, she could tell that something was bothering him. He might be physically standing next to her, but she knew that within the confines of his brilliant mind, Zeke Yeager was miles away. Reaching up, she snatched the forgotten cigarette out of his mouth, forcing him to look at her with that adorably stunned expression of his. Without breaking eye contact, Pieck lifted the cigarette to her peach colored lips, took a drag, and exhaled the smoke in a slow, lazy stream.

“A penny for your thoughts, War Chief?”

As if daring him to refuse, Pieck smirked before carelessly tossing the remaining cigarette into the waters below.

For Zeke, Pieck tossed a life preserver along with his cigarette. It was a move that allowed him to drift back up to the surface and out of the depths of his mind. He took an inhale, an unfortunate requirement of life, before carefully forming his reply. “I was just reviewing the plan in my head. As War Chief, it is my responsibility to consider all possible scenarios as a result of us stepping onto that island.” 

Knowing Pieck, however, she would see right through it. She was always too smart for her own good.

The woman sighed, draping herself more fully over the railing as she stared out at the outline of the wall. “That is true… The War Chief has a lot riding on his broad shoulders,” she mused aloud. 

Zeke had always been one to take the weight of a situation onto himself. Pieck wondered how long he had been doing that for? Pieck knew that Zeke’s parents had been absent for the latter half of his childhood; that alone was common knowledge. They had been tried by Marley as Eldian traitors before Zeke and her had been introduced. But Pieck had always wondered whether their absence had anything to do with Zeke’s choices or mannerisms.

She was suddenly reminded of the last time she had asked him, back at his twenty-third birthday. Pieck looked forward, but her eyes replaced the ocean with a simple back alley, a brilliant sun, and a clean-shaven Zeke playing baseball with her. She remembered asking him why he had become a Warrior, but even then, he had avoided her question, claiming to prefer playing the game.

“But you didn’t have to take all of this on yourself. You chose to, just like I did.” Pieck straightened up, her eyes coming back to the present to look at his tired face. “Maybe now, you can tell me why you chose to become the War Chief? Why you became a Warrior? You told me before that it was never the right time. We are about to invade Paradis… isn’t this as good of a time as any?”

Zeke never took his eyes off of that distant island as she spoke, taking a few moments to contemplate her words. She was right, as always; this was as good of a time as any. When he was ten, he never thought the two of them in combination would ever make it this far in the Warrior program in order for him to make good on his promise. It was a small miscalculation that he would have to forgive his child-self for, but one he will never make again. Even so, if he continued to dodge the question and didn’t confide in her, she may start to view him as untrustworthy, and he most certainly couldn’t have that, not when they were finally stepping foot onto Paradis. That would jeopardize his true mission.

He made up his mind with a prolonged exhale. “Come with me.”

The blond led his companion on a casual stroll to the stern of the ship, passing the Marleyans who were otherwise occupied in their individual tasks. At the back of the boat were several stacked crates, containing ship supplies, rather than the inventory that they would be taking with them onto the island.

Zeke spotted a box that was mostly concealed by the stacks that surrounded it. He sat down before patting the spot next to him, inviting Pieck to join him. His grey eyes fixated on the wake that their boat left behind as he stroked his beard, trying to figure out exactly where to start, along with the careful construction of his words.

“You always say that we chose to become Warriors, that I chose to take this all on myself, but I didn’t. I didn’t have that luxury.” Zeke brought his hands together, fidgeting with his fingers to resist the urge of reaching for his cigarette case. He grimaced at the irony of referring to anything relating to Eldians as a luxury. Pieck tilted her head in confusion, a clear sign for him to continue.  “It’s no secret that I was among the first batch of Warrior candidates; the guinea pigs, if you will. It’s also no secret that my parents were Eldian Restorationists and that I turned them in to the Marleyan Government. I couldn’t walk into a room without there being murmurings of ‘that’s the one who sold-out his parents’ or ‘I would’ve died before doing that to my mom and dad.’”

Pieck had never thought about the effect that event had on Zeke. What must it have been like to make that decision? Not only did the decision have to be made, but then he was constantly reminded of it every day. Despite being a child, surely one as smart as Zeke would have known what they were saying. That wound of necessary betrayal would have never been able to heal, ripped and reopened with every whisper when they thought they were out of his earshot.

His eyebrows furrowed ever-so-slightly, trying to organize his thoughts in a linear fashion. “Do you know what my name means, Pieck?” Zeke questioned. “It means ‘God will strengthen.’ I was conceived and born with a specific purpose to serve and fulfill my parents’ wishes. My name was their plea to the Founder Ymir to give me the power to do so. So when the Marleyans announced their re-envisioned Warrior Program, I was the sacrificial lamb placed upon their altar.”

The yearn that churned in his lungs for another cigarette grew even stronger, his hand absentmindedly traveling to his inside breast pocket. Noticing his movement, Pieck’s hand twitched with the instinctual desire to comfort him. Instead, she clenched her hand, fingernails pressing into her palms. Not yet, she told herself.

“You may not believe this, but I was actually very bad…at well, everything.” Zeke’s eyes glossed over as the memories replayed through his mind. “Sprinting, endurance, marksmanship, combat, weapon assembly, you name it. I was last place in everything. The only thing I could do well was pass the written exams.” He took out his cigarette carton, packing the case into the heel of his hand. “I’m sure it didn’t help that my heart wasn’t in it. Unlike you, I didn’t want to be a Warrior. I just wanted to be a normal kid, as much as being Eldian allows us to be. That was unacceptable to my father.”

Zeke flipped open the lid of his cigarette pack, but hesitated on taking one. Instead, he tapped his index finger incessantly against the cardboard. “Even when I decided to actually put in effort, I continuously ended up being a disappointment. My parents would constantly scream and argue about it. Though, in hindsight, being ‘Eldia’s savior’ was an impossibly high bar for a six-year-old.” Zeke was determined to stick to the facts, rather than focusing on any of his feelings. His feelings would remain undisturbed, like the dirt that buried his parents deep within their airtight tombs.

“And that’s when I met Mr. Ksaver.” A small smile graced Zeke’s lips. Despite viewing him as his true father figure, it was something that was difficult for Zeke to verbalize aloud. “He was the one who ultimately suggested that I turn in my parents before the government found them out. That way I could save myself and my grandparents.”

The blond finally put the cigarette up to his mouth, resting it in between his lips. “By doing so, however, I was still forced to continue with the Warrior program, as I had to prove my loyalty to Marley, while my parents were sent to die a traitor’s death.” It was then that he shifted his gaze towards Pieck for the very first time during his retelling. “And there you have it. That is why I became a Warrior.”

Zeke exhaled; he had fulfilled his promise. “You had to wait a long time to hear it, I know.” Of course, he omitted quite a bit, like the gritty details of just how hostile his father was and his euthanasia plan, but it was enough to satisfy the conditions of their childhood agreement. Pieck merely looked at him for another minute, her eyes nearly unreadable. Finally, she turned from his gaze to stare ahead, her dark hair falling just enough to obscure her features from him.

Behind her curtain of raven locks, Pieck clenched her teeth as she attempted to school her expression into place. How was she supposed to respond to this? Now she understood. Zeke had been ordered and forced to do so many things during his life. She had been wrong from the start; Zeke had been forced into this role, a tool for others to take advantage of, despite what she had thought from the beginning. Their life as Eldians didn’t offer them many choices. Although the medical condition of her father after her mother’s passing hadn’t left her many options, becoming a Warrior was, at the very least, her choice.

Relaxing her features, Pieck allowed her eyes to close. Zeke was still as much of an enigma as ever. She simultaneously found that fact fascinating and frustrating. Some days, she felt like she knew his every thought: his favorite foods, how he enjoyed his coffee, when he was nervous or uncomfortable, or how he would fight in a battle and how she could adjust to his tactics. Other times, he felt like a stranger, or a cipher that she didn’t yet know the code to. He felt more guarded than the walls of Paradis ahead of them, impenetrable and unreadable. It was in these moments that she felt as if she didn’t know anything about him.

However, he had still chosen to tell her. Zeke very easily could have broken his promise. It would have had consequences between them, but he could have chalked it up to childhood innocence. In that simple fact, Pieck felt the smallest amount of reassurance.

“Thank you,” the young woman finally murmured. “For telling me. It must have been hard…”

Behind the cover of the boxes, Pieck likened them to yet another wall. Most of the walls in her life had been meant to keep her locked inside, caged like an animal. This time, she felt like this wall was meant to protect her, to keep others away from her and Zeke as they shared this vulnerable moment. Slowly, Pieck reached over, loosely overlapping her delicate, slender fingers in between those of the man beside her. She gave him a tender squeeze, wishing that she could say more about what he had shared.

They were in enough of a private area for Zeke to allow Pieck to hold his hand. She had done so on several different occasions throughout the years, but the sensation always felt sudden and new each time. He felt lucky that she didn’t seem to have any follow-up questions. If that’s all she had to say, then he would leave it there. He also noticed, to his surprise, that he no longer had a need for a smoke. The urge had subsided. Zeke removed the cigarette from in between his lips and back into the carton before placing it back into his inside breast pocket.

Pieck kept her gaze forward in the direction that Zeke had been looking. Slowly, after many minutes of silence, the rocking of the ship had become soothing to her. As she leaned her head to the side, she decided that she was long overdue for her earlier desired nap. Sleep claimed her like a warm blanket, washing over her like a wave. As it did, her eyelids fluttered shut, and her cheek rested against Zeke’s shoulder.

“Pieck…?” Zeke whispered, though received no reply in response. This also was not new. Pieck could fall asleep anywhere, and he had always been her favorite pillow, even when they were kids. Quiet moments like these were something to cherish between the two of them, though Zeke usually had a book or a cup of coffee in hand in order to pass the time. The blond reached across with his free hand, brushing Pieck’s loose strands of hair out of her face.

“It’s best you get some rest anyways,” Zeke said quietly, tucking Pieck’s raven locks behind her ear. “Who knows when we’ll get the opportunity again once we’re on shore.”

Chapter Text

“You said he was able to fly with it? And he used swords?”

“Yes, though I don’t think this part has the gas in it.”

“Then that means they know how to combat titans. We should proceed with caution.”

“Ah! I think they store the wire in here! I can see it.”

“Was killing the horse absolutely necessary though?”

“There seems to be a mechanism in the center. Now if I can only just…”

“Zeke, perhaps you should stop messing with--”

Pieck’s words were clipped by the sound of the wire darting from the mystery devil gear and colliding into the weathered stone wall in front of them. The effect startled Zeke enough for him to drop the device, though one wouldn’t have known it from the look of awe on his face.

“Fascinating! It operates also on a grappling system! How clever!” Realizing just how giddy he sounded, he cleared his throat, recognizing he needed to exhibit some decorum. He picked up the apparatus before turning to address Pieck’s titan. “We should keep this and take it back to headquarters. It may assist in getting the upper hand on our opposition.” Zeke knew the suggestion would sound favorable to Pieck. Secretly, however, the War Chief decided that he would keep it for himself, as it could be useful to him in the future.

Pieck nodded. “The government will be stunned when they hear how… resourceful the devils have been in their isolation,” she agreed with his plan, her tone careful behind the lowered pitch of her titan form. “Now that their soldiers have run, besides that singular decoy you took care of, how long do you think we have until the next phase?”

Zeke tucked the device within the crook of his arm before crossing with his free hand to scratch at his right ear. “If they are operating on the assumption of a breach, they’ll need to utilize their soldiers to coordinate and lead an evacuation of the neighboring towns before turning their resources toward inspecting the wall. Given we’ve already taken care of one of the villages for them, I’d say…” Zeke paused in order to estimate travel times, running the calculation in his head. “Ten hours at most?”

“That’s plenty of time. We should go back to camp, and stay fully hidden. It will also give you a chance to rest. You’ll need as much as possible while we are sure we can afford it,” Pieck encouraged, slowly rising from her crouched state. As her titan crawled on all fours, a piece of Zeke’s sentence stood out to her, causing the memory to reappear fresh in her mind.

To say that village had been “taken” by the Marleyan army was a severe understatement. Pieck had been involved in a myriad of battles over the years. The power of the Titans obviously allowed Marley to create innovative, albeit highly destructive, war tactics. She, like the rest of the Warriors, had developed the talent to emotionally distance herself from the results of their methods. However, her experience here had been different. 

The traditional strategy utilized with the Cart Titan had usually placed Pieck outside of a city whenever Zeke’s spinal fluid had been used. This time, from her crouched position behind her War Chief, Pieck watched with her own eyes as the canisters were activated and the gas permeated the city, rolling in as unassuming as a fog. The villagers, ones that Pieck had been charged to watch for days prior to the event, only reacted with vague confusion as their lungs filled with the Eldian poison. All it took was a raised hand from a Marleyan soldier, the signal given to the War Chief. She had watched as Zeke breathed in and unleashed a booming, bestial scream, the very yell that would activate the new power within the Eldian villagers. The effect was immediate. Pieck had been forced to squint as a beam of yellow light enveloped the entire town, resulting in simultaneous explosions as houses, barns, and other structures were blown apart. All that had remained of the village were the hideous new forms of titans, devoid of who they once were, their consciousnesses controlled by the Beast. None of Pieck’s training could have prepared her for that moment, and she hoped to repress it quickly to the back recesses of her mind.

“You are exactly right, Pieck.” Zeke commented, climbing up the Cart Titan to sit on the edge of the cargo load. “We were lucky to find this place. I think it’s the biggest living accommodation we’ve ever had.”  

The War Chief’s comment was no understatement, for the Beast and Cart Titans were currently staying within a castle. While scouting the area within Wall Rose, they stumbled upon the abandoned fortress known as Utgard Castle. It was the perfect location, secluded and close to the wall, and had enough space to house all of their forces. The structure, however, was failing. Although its tower and ground floor level were still intact, one entire side of the wall had caved in, leaving a large opening into its courtyard. In anticipation of the Eldian forces arriving, the Marleyan soldiers that accompanied Zeke and Pieck thus far had recently evacuated. Not only had their part of the mission been completed, but also the two titan shifters were the only ones capable of hiding in plain sight. If they wanted this to work, the Beast and Cart needed the element of surprise.

As Pieck walked around the wall and into the cramped confines of the courtyard, Zeke paused before hopping down, placing a hand on the nape of the Cart to get her attention. “Say, why don’t you come out of your form for a little bit? It may feel good to stretch your legs. My titans would slow down any enemies before they could reach us.”

As usual, Zeke’s logic was sound. Pieck had been within the confines of her Cart Titan form ever since their platoon landed on Paradis. She had been tasked with scouting ahead of the group as the Marleyans made their way across the Titan-infested territory and through Wall Maria. After being lifted by Zeke’s Beast Titan over the wall, much like a construction crane, the Cart Titan had been necessary for carrying the crates of gas in addition to scouting. When Pieck truly thought about the amount of time put together, it had been days, perhaps a few weeks, since her spine and legs had received a reprieve.

“Are you quite sure? Your rest is the priority for the next phase, not mine,” she pointed out. Although she wanted the rest, she wanted Zeke to know that if it came down to allowing him a safer, more secure sleep with her on patrol, she would do that for him.

“Piecky, I’m sure,” Zeke confirmed in a definitive tone. He grabbed onto a rope to use it as a support while he slid down the Cart’s back. His boots landed on the ground of the grassy courtyard with a soft thud before he walked around to center himself face-to-face with the quadrupedal titan. He wanted her to fully hear him as he spoke his next words.

“Who knows when we will get time alone together like this again.”

From within her Titan, Pieck raised an eyebrow. Hearing Zeke verbalize a desire to be alone with her was surprising. He would have never said something so plain back in Marley, not with how secretive the two of them had been for years. Pieck deduced that being together in enemy territory, away from the watchful eyes of their Marleyan babysitters, perhaps afforded them a small degree of freedom.

Sighing, Pieck closed her eyes and severed her connection with the Cart Titan. The ligaments and skeletal muscle that controlled the Titan’s movements painfully snapped from the sides of her face and head. With a hiss of steam, Zeke watched as the raven-haired shifter emerged from the nape of her Titan. Having seen her legs quake as she climbed out of the remaining husk of her Titan, Zeke moved forward as she slid down to help catch her, her small frame landing safely within Zeke’s arms. This wasn’t the first time he had to carry her, and depending upon how events unfolded today, it may actually be the last. Zeke shook the thought from his mind as he began to walk up the stone staircase and towards the tower entrance. “Your crutch is inside. I’ll get it for you.”

Not for the first time, Pieck gazed up at the impending stone walls of the castle. Sure, Marley had large buildings, factories, and such. But this display of architecture was different than any that Pieck had studied in her time at school. In fact, the only examples she could think of were ancient, created hundreds of years ago within other countries. Despite her natural feelings against the devils that lived here, she couldn’t help but marvel at this particular creation, at how the individually carved stones linked together like puzzle pieces.

“Who do you think used to live here?” her soft voice questioned in wonder.

“I don’t know,” Zeke responded as he crossed the threshold. He set her down gently before reaching for the crutch that leaned against the nearby wall. “Probably some noble family. Paradis is a monarchy, after all.”

As the War Chief placed the crutch under the crook of Pieck’s arm, his most recent statement further permeated within the privacy of his mind. If his mother’s family had fled to Paradis Island after the Great Titan War, then he would be a noble. Probably some lord with an estate similar to this castle. Would his outlook on future generations be any different? Surely if he was noble, he’d be expected to produce an heir. 

Zeke grimaced as he ascended a few steps of the circular stone staircase to pause at a window. As he overlooked the Paradisian landscape, he reassured himself that it was a blessing for all Eldians that he originated on the other side of the ocean. If he hadn’t, then there may have been no hope in freeing his people from their endless cycle of suffering.

The Eldians of Paradis should be overjoyed, for their prodigal prince has returned. Their salvation rests on his shoulders, and he would save every last one of them.

Meanwhile, Pieck was slowly and surely following her commander up the staircase. The combination of the crutch and the weakness in her legs made her feel unusually clumsy. As she readjusted the position of the crutch under her arm, she noticed Zeke stop and gaze out the window. “A penny for your thoughts?” she waited to ask until she was just a step below him, their difference in height even further pronounced.

Zeke’s eyes glanced down to the woman beside him before masking his face with a small smile. “I’m going to be rich after how many pennies you’ve paid me on this trip.” He then gestured for Pieck to follow him up the stairs. “I was just thinking we should review the plan over dinner. Let’s go.”

The two made their way up to the next level where they, along with the Marleyan army, had been residing. Although they had taken most of their belongings with them, the army had left the Warriors with several wooden boxes of rations. It’s all that remained in the room besides their two bedrolls. Just thinking about the possibility of food caused Pieck’s stomach to gurgle, breaking the tension and allowing her to laugh at the absurdity.

“Hungry?” Zeke asked with a raise of an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth curling upward to prevent a laugh from escaping. The two made quick work, splitting up the duties of rekindling the fire, grinding coffee, and sifting through the canned rations to select their meal for the evening.

“Herring again?” Zeke sounded unenthused.

“Oh, have you been eating a lot of this?” Pieck questioned innocently. In truth, she wasn’t sure what everyone had been eating. While in her titan, she didn’t need to be concerned over such things.

“Pick what you want. You’re the one that’s been in your titan for far too long, not me.” Zeke waved his hand before sitting down across the fire with a pencil and a piece of paper.

As the pair ate their respective servings of fish while they waited for the coffee pot to heat, Zeke placed the piece of paper between them, starting to draw out the remainder of the plan.

“After the evacuations take place, the devils will then turn their resources toward inspecting the wall. By the time that they finish, it will be nightfall, and this castle is near the converging point of the search.” Zeke emphasized his point by circling the small doodle of the castle that he drew. “After seeing there is no breach, they will seek refuge within the castle. We’ll watch them for a few hours to see if we can learn anything. But once they’re asleep, I’ll ambush them with both my titans and my pitching assault. They’ll then be trapped until death or until any reinforcements arrive for them.”

Zeke took another bite of his food, the smell of the fish entering his nostrils once more before he even tasted it. “If the Coordinate is there, they should have guards and be easy to spot. If not, it’s a story that’ll at least flush them out of that third wall. It’s also a story that will travel enough that Reiner, Bertholdt, Annie, and Marcel are bound to catch wind of, and should be able to put two and two together that it’s me.”

His sentence was punctuated by the whistle of the coffee pot. The War Chief then poured them both two cups of black coffee before cupping his own between his hands.

“It’s a similar tactic to something we’ve all done together in the past. They should recognize it.”

Pieck tucked her hair behind her ear as she inspected Zeke’s plan over her cup of coffee. The heated scent invaded her senses, waking up her otherwise overworked mind. “I would hope so. After ten plus years of training, that should win out over their five years here undercover, don’t you think?”

The numbers seemed to ring in Pieck’s ears. The four other Warriors had been on enemy soil for nearly a third of their lives, certainly longer than either Zeke or Pieck had ever been away from Marley. Her thoughts came back to Zeke’s earlier statement, and how this small taste of freedom had allowed even him to relax or verbalize how he felt, even if it was in the smallest of ways. For the two of them, they had only been able to be fully themselves behind closed doors or hidden away, and even then no one could be certain of who could be listening. Despite the situation that the others had been in, she couldn’t help but wonder what being away from Marley had allowed the foursome. Had Reiner matured from the nationalistic boy that he had been? Had Marcel developed further in leadership and his own personality, away from the stressors of constantly reining in his boisterous younger brother? Would Bertholdt finally have revealed his long-held feelings for Annie, and would she have accepted them? 

She knew she would not have traded the years she spent in her homeland for anything. That would mean wishing away her years of relative safety, of spending time with her father, or the evolution of what she now had with Zeke. But as she thought about how their mission would have afforded the other four Warriors a glimpse of another future with other possibilities, even if they were a lie, Pieck couldn’t help but feel momentarily jealous of them.

“What if…” she started, pausing to take a pensive sip of coffee, “...we had been the ones sent instead of them? Do you think we would have done it differently?”

The question caused Zeke to instantly snort, much to Pieck’s surprise. “Well we certainly wouldn’t have broken the wall. I wonder whose bright idea that was…” The War Chief trailed off, tossing his piece of paper into the fire. He had his suspicions, but none that he needed to voice. “All that would do is cause the Coordinate to refortify themselves with an even tighter security.” The blond paused in his musings to take a gulp of his coffee. “If the Coordinate is a member of the royal family, then they must be located within the innermost wall, as that’s where the most important people would reside. We probably would’ve snuck in undetected, did this strategy we’re playing out now within Wall Sina to create confusion, and then abduct the Coordinate during the chaos.” Zeke looked down, swirling the remaining contents of his drink. “And we would’ve gotten it done at least three years ago.”

He couldn’t help but one again grow irritated at the thought of five years wasted, all because Marley decided to send children on one of the most important military operations within the nation’s history. Zeke had already served over half of his tenure, and with only four years left, he was dead set on making his and Mr. Ksaver’s dream become a reality. This very mission could result in that moment.

His grey eyes lifted up from his drink to shift his focus on the woman sitting beside him. That moment could very well be any day, any hour, any minute from now, and that moment might also mean his final goodbye to Pieck Finger.

Their time was finite, despite what he said to her all those years ago that night during their first moment of intimacy. He never was very good with goodbyes.

“Say…” He started, finishing off the rest of his warm beverage. “Guess what the officers found downstairs.”

“Hm? Let me guess,” Pieck hummed, mulling over what could have possibly excited the soldiers. “A case of native wine? Whatever it is, it can’t be more interesting than that grappling system that you found,” she joked lightly with a smile.

“A bathtub,” Zeke replied, filling in the blanks for her. Pieck’s eyebrow raised with intrigue. Just in case she didn’t believe him, however, he decided to elaborate. “One of those old copper ones. It probably originated with the castle, just like some of this old furniture. The officers have been using it all week.” The blond set his now finished coffee cup onto the floor, the tin making a clacking sound upon meeting the stone. “The well in the courtyard is functional, so they’ve been heating the water and dumping it in to use it. And if I had to guess…” The blond uncrossed his legs in order to stand up. “Without the Cart Titan, they couldn’t possibly bring all those things back with them, so I’d say it’s our lucky day.”

Pieck’s lips turned into a slightly impish grin as she carefully lifted herself up from the floor. “I’ll say so. I like the way that you think, War Chief.” Zeke’s eyes glanced down at her inquisitively as he felt her pass by him, purposefully bumping his hip with her own to make him stumble. She viewed her cheeky flirtation as a mere act of motivation; it was surely going to get the tub filled faster.

The two made their way downstairs to the well. After placing a cast iron pot over a newly started fire within the courtyard, they took turns pulling up the water, bringing it to the fireside to boil it, and then pouring it into the copper tub. Despite her attempts to hide her struggles, Zeke couldn’t help but notice how Pieck labored to keep up with his pace and not slosh any of the water over the sides of the bucket. It was clear that her strength was no match for his own, and her physical weakness after being in the Cart Titan for so long put her at a strong disadvantage. Instead, Zeke started to take more of the load upon himself. After Zeke’s most recent pour got the tub to the halfway mark, he walked back outside and over to Pieck, removing the well bucket from her tired hands. “I think it only needs one more load. I’ll take care of the rest.” He raised his free hand to cup the side of her neck, his fingers wrapping just enough to barely curl into her raven hair. 

“You’ve done enough.”

Unbeknownst to Pieck, the weight of these words exceeded far more than well water. She had been with him through thick and thin--from childhood friend, to peacetime companion, to secret recipient of her heart--and he deserved none of it. If he was to leave her side after this mission, come what may, he selfishly wanted to burn himself into her memory for the rest of their short lifespans, for he knew that should he succeed, Marley would try to erase him from history. He lingered in front of her for a few moments more before stepping away, regathering his thoughts as he walked towards the fire. 

“Now go inside. I won’t take no for an answer,” he ordered, dumping the bucket of water into the already heated pot. The water sizzled as it made contact, steam rising to fog up his glasses. After he heard the door shut, the War Chief removed his spectacles to wipe off the offending mist. While waiting for the water to heat, he traveled over to the collapsed side of the castle, peering out to look over his titans. They were all still in place from the last moment he checked, waiting for additional orders from their master. The plan was still a green light. Satisfied with his patrol, he made his way back over to the now simmering pot. The blond picked it up carefully before traveling back through the only functional door of the ground floor, walking through what was once a foyer and into the room where the bathtub resided.

The most notable difference in the room was Pieck’s placement. Zeke didn’t believe that his final run of the water had taken very long, so he expected her to be standing with her crutch, waiting for him. He certainly hadn’t expected her to be already sitting in the tub. Her clothes lay discarded in an unceremonious pile of brown and beige a few feet away from the copper tub. The small sound of a splash of water directed his attention back to Pieck. She was facing away from the entrance to the room, her tousled hair in stark contrast against the creamy white of her bare shoulder. As if she sensed his gaze, she turned around, unabashedly meeting his eyes.

“There you are. Do you think that you could get my back?”

She held up a small washing towel, already lathered in suds from a procured bar of soap.

Zeke’s footsteps echoed within the stone chamber before setting the pot down onto the ground beside the tub. Having zero objections, he silently lowered to his knees as he took the rag from her hands. In comparison to the bath water, his fingers felt cold on her shoulder, his chilling touch running down her spine as he gathered her hair to move it out of his way. He placed the towel onto her skin, lathering the soapy water in circles across the width of her shoulders. Pieck found her eyes closing, lulled by the rhythmic patterns of the cloth on her skin. The sound of dripping water was the only sound that broke through the thick air as his hand traveled further down her back, scrubbing gently. He brought the fistful of her hair to her roots, his hand pinning the hair to her head as he leaned over her shoulder to whisper into her ear. “How’s that? Did I miss a spot?”

Pieck felt her mouth immediately go dry, the mood of the room evolving, and the smallest exhale of breath gave away her surprise at his tone. Another shiver, one she couldn’t explain the reason for, ran up her spine. “It felt nice when you were pressing near my shoulders. Maybe you missed a few spots there?”

Zeke dipped his head down to place soft, slow kisses onto her right shoulder. He tugged her hair gently towards the left, tilting her head to leave her neck exposed. The warmth of Zeke’s lips minimized the coolness of the water that rested on her skin, but the combination of the two left her body in goosebumps. He trailed his kisses up her neck, his beard tickling her skin as he stopped just beside her ear. 

“Better?”

The only coherent thought that made its way through Pieck’s mind was how glad she was that she was already sitting down. Zeke’s ministrations to her neck in combination with his husky whisper would have left her legs weaker than they already were. But she couldn’t let him win her over that easily. The raven-haired woman reached back, carefully freeing her hair from his hold before deliberately turning in the tub to face him, her wet fingers reaching up to grip the coarse fabric of his jacket’s collar.

“Just one more.”

Her low murmur had barely left her lips before she pulled Zeke down to meet her. Her eyes fluttered shut as she pressed her lips to his. Pieck hummed in pleasure; it had been weeks since she had been allowed this. She had been telling the truth all of those years ago, when she declared to Zeke that she didn’t need much in terms of physical affection, knowing that public displays were entirely out of the question. Kept to their stolen moments alone, Pieck was content to hold him whenever he allowed her to. She had never viewed herself as a greedy or lustful woman, but in this moment as she felt him reciprocate her kiss, the gentle brush of his beard against her skin, the shift of his hands to hold her body, Pieck couldn’t help but want more and more of him.

The warm water from her extended arms dripped off of her skin and down onto Zeke’s shirt, pants, and the floor. He reciprocated the kiss, dunking the towel into the tub and releasing it from his grasp before lifting his hand to slide up the small of her back, allowing warm water to cascade down her back. His hand traveled up further still, cupping the back of Pieck’s neck in an effort to not allow her to pull away from him. With each passing kiss, the steam from the water gradually fogged up his glasses once more, knowing he would have to discard them soon or be left inherently blind.

Pieck started to deviate in her kisses, trailing them over his cheeks and jawline. She was pressing a heated kiss to a particularly sensitive juncture at his neck when she noticed the effect she was having on his clothing. Breathing a huff of a laugh against his skin, she whispered, “Take your clothes off, before one of us gets them soaking wet.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Zeke replied, starting to remove his jacket. As he tossed it onto a dry area of the floor, his grey eyes surveyed the tub before speaking once more. “And how do you propose we both fit?”

Not for the first time today, Pieck responded in a very unexpected way. She stood up in the tub, allowing the water to drip its way over her curves and down her form. As Zeke met her eyes, her offhanded tone differed heavily from the wicked gleam that lit up her features.

“Don’t worry. With our combined intelligence, your brawn and my… flexibility… I’d bet we can make it work.”

. . .

Pieck felt herself waking up, her senses returning one by one as she came into consciousness. She was first aware of the brisk change in the air, quite opposite of the warm body that rested under her cheek. She concluded a few hours had passed since falling asleep. She could hear the measured breathing of the man beneath her, felt the rise and fall of his chest. Her hand drifted lazily over his abdomen as she wrapped her arm over his midriff. Although still asleep, Zeke responded in kind, pulling her closer with a grumble. Pieck couldn’t help but allow the smallest of smiles to grace her lips before she decided to open her eyes.

Zeke slept peacefully beside her, his brow smooth and free of the stressors of his position. She liked seeing him this way, and when the situation allowed, she enjoyed being the first one to wake. It was a sight that, she imagined, a select few had been privy to witness, and she considered that a high privilege. She drank in the sight of him and allowed a few minutes to go by before sighing in resignation. From the position of the setting sun and the lengthening shadows, Pieck knew that it was time for them to make their escape from the castle. The young woman reached up her hand to carefully comb through Zeke’s tousled blond locks, easing him into consciousness before cupping his cheek with a tender smile.

“Time to wake up, War Chief.” 

Zeke leaned into Pieck’s touch as his grey eyes slowly blinked open, enjoying the sensation. Physical affection had always been such a foreign concept to him, that when it was given to him, he always felt starved for more. Knowing that this may be the last time Pieck would have her hands on him, he fought off consciousness for as long as he could. The blond took a deep breath, tilting his head back in order to get a glimpse of the sky from out the window. It was time.

He carefully shifted Pieck beside him as he sat up from his bedroll. “We’ll leave most things behind. They’re not needed anymore if we’re heading back to the dock after this.” Zeke stated, reaching over to grab his glasses. “I’ll shift, grab the Cart’s rig, carry us over the wall, and then we will camp out until we have the element of surprise on our side.” He leaned down to place a soft kiss on his dear Pieck’s forehead before continuing. “Why don’t you get dressed and then make sure all the fire is put out?”

Pieck hummed her agreement before pushing her hair out of her face and reaching for her clothes. The two Warriors went about getting dressed in relative silence. Occasionally one would catch the other’s appreciative side glances before continuing to button a shirt or lace up their boot. Pieck’s last order of business was to tie up her hair into a loose ponytail before following Zeke’s orders, checking on the fire pits before meeting him outside of the castle.

Not wanting to jeopardize the structure from shifting too closely, Zeke walked several yards away from the castle out into the field before raising his knife to his hand. He grit his teeth as he sliced across his inner palm. Sparks of electricity channeled through him as he transformed, shifting into the Beast Titan. From this height, he was able to scan the area relatively easily--no devils in sight. He moved to bend down and pick up the Cart Titan’s rigging in between the Beast’s thumb and index finger before making his first ascent up Wall Rose. Once he successfully got the gear to the other side, he made his way back to the castle, his titans all eyeing him curiously as he walked.

It was exhilarating to watch him work, Pieck thought, as Zeke picked up her heavy rigging and lifted it effortlessly. To her, there was something beautiful and methodic about the way that Zeke moved, even within his Titan form. Every move was calculated, every display of strength careful and measured after years of practice. Over the years, Pieck had found those characteristics embedded into most of the way Zeke interacted with the world. She felt her chest warm at the thought as he approached her.

The Beast crouched down just in front of the fortress and set his hand down within the courtyard, leaving his palm open for Pieck to climb aboard. “Ready to go?” He questioned through the Beast, the tone of voice guttural and low.

Pieck looked at his outstretched hand in question. This was something that he had never offered to her, nothing that they had ever practiced. But Pieck found herself thrilled with the idea, and with a thundering heart, climbed into the gargantuan palm of the Beast. “Yes, just don’t drop me,” she teased as she sat down.

“Drop you? Never,” the Beast replied, closing his hand just enough to create a protective cage with his fingers around Pieck. Zeke took one final lookover of the castle, and once determining all is well, made his way back to Wall Rose. Holding Pieck up to his Titan’s face, he moved her positioning in order to carry her better. With the most delicate of moments, he moved Pieck into a standing position in order to envelop her within his fingers, keeping her safe within his grasp.

“Hold on.”

Zeke began his ascent, finding just the right pieces of stones to utilize as steps and anchors in his climb. After a few moments, he made it to the wall’s summit, allowing the pair to have an incredible panoramic view of the island of Paradis. The Beast Titan set his hand down upon the top of the wall, slowly uncurling his fingers to allow Pieck to stand on her own. “We’ll be here for a few hours now. They may see me from this angle upon approaching, so I’ll wait on the other side. Signal me when it’s safe to climb back up.”

Pieck lifted a hand to salute, her heart still pounding from the thrill of her experience. “Of course, War Chief.”

Pieck hunkered down on top of the wall, looking out over the darkening landscape of Paradis. She watched as the hills turned from green to deep blue then black, and most color faded from the world. Shivering into the cold of the night, she gazed upwards to see stars speckle the inky sky. It must have been a couple hours later when little yellow lights, mere dots from a distance, popped up to her right. The devils, she assumed, moved in a shaped formation, riding along the barrier of the wall. She watched like a falcon from above as her prey rode towards, then past her. Then, a second set of lights appeared from the left. Soon, the torches intermingled before riding off, drawn to the safety of the abandoned castle. She couldn’t help but smile to herself; Zeke’s prediction had been correct.

Pieck moved to the opposite side of the wall, signaling down into the darkness below with a low whistle. Not wanting to strike a match or light a torch, she prayed the sound was enough for Zeke to hear.

The War Chief soon met her atop the wall, gazing at the light that radiated from within the castle. He emerged from his Titan, quickly cleaning his glasses before catching a pair of binoculars that Pieck had tossed up to him. As he scanned the area, he could see several figures illuminated by firelight. He saw several soldiers, all wearing the same uniform and gear like the scout from before. Some were standing watch, some were tending to horses, some were eating and drinking, but none seemed to have any extra security detail. Trying not to feel too disappointed at the absence of the Coordinate, he scanned across the area, and his muscles tensed as he caught something out of the corner of his eye. He quickly brought the binoculars back to do a second take, and he could not believe his eyes.

“What is it?” Pieck asked in a whisper.

“That’s...That’s Reiner and Bertholdt. I’m sure of it.” Zeke let out a breath of relief. “They must have infiltrated their military forces. Very smart. Annie and Marcel may be inside too.” Knowing that retrieving the Warrior Unit was part of their mission, he had to alter his tactics just a little bit. “I’ll climb down and have my titans ambush them while asleep. I’ll then walk by the castle just enough for those two to get a good look at me before continuing with the plan. That way, they’ll know we are stationed at the dock.” Zeke tossed the binoculars back down to Pieck before moving to get back into the Beast.

As he reconnected with his titan, his eyebrows furrowed, looking as focused and determined as ever to succeed. These devils had walked right into his trap, and as far as he was concerned--

This was the beginning of the end.

Chapter Text

Zeke set his glasses down upon the nightstand within his small lodgings on the ship. His limbs felt like weights, weights that even he was too weak to carry. The War Chief’s knees buckled, causing him to crumble to a sitting position on the bed. He placed his hands on either side of his head, grabbing fistfuls of his own hair in a hopeless attempt to get his last conversation to stop repeating in his mind.

“Eren Yeager, you say?”

“Yes… Eren is the holder of the Founding Titan. The details of how that came to be are apparently not clear to him as well. However, in the basement of his house in the district of Shinganshina, where Eren was born and grew up, it appears that there was some very important information in there.”

“That… have you heard anything from Eren… about his father?”

“If I remember right… He’s currently missing. We heard he was a doctor.”

Zeke shut his eyes tight. His father apparently lived. He didn’t want to believe it, but he had to, especially since Reiner and Bertholdt would have no reason to lie. Of all the scenarios of his parents’ deaths that went through his mind over the past eighteen years, none of them were even close to being true. He could feel the red hot liquid of anger stir in his stomach, its churning quickly forming into resentment. That meant not only did his father escape his fate, but also that he discarded his previous life, married a second wife, and had another son. In doing so, he was granted the reward of forgetting all about Zeke as well as an undeserving second attempt at his vision of a perfect family.

But how did he do it…? Zeke thought to himself. He grit his teeth, willing his eyes open. His vision blurred, searching and scanning every possibility that he could uncover within his mind. It seems like he had to have used the missing Attack Titan somehow, and with that, he stole the Founding Titan from the royal family, and then had his replacement son eat him. It also appears that his mother had been transformed into a mindless titan and touched—

Zeke’s thinking process was interrupted by a flip in his stomach. A wave of nausea hit him unexpectedly, his mind imagining what his mother’s titan form must have looked like. There was no way around it, that contact is what allowed Grisha’s new son to access the coordinate, but only for a split second.

The blond bent forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He felt the stinging sensation of tears that began pooling at the corners of his eyes. If there was any emotion that he would allow himself to feel, it would have been anger. Instead, all he felt was sadness. Eren Yeager wasn’t his replacement or their father’s do-over. He’s his younger brother, and that meant he was suffering just as Zeke was. They are not competitors of each other, they are both victims of their father.

A few teardrops spilt over, falling in between his leather boots and onto the wooden floorboards below. Zeke had promised Mr. Ksaver, his chosen father, to find the holder of the Founding Titan. That promise now felt more personal than ever, and all the more important for him to fulfill.

Interrupting his swirling thoughts, a double-knock was heard on his door.

“War Chief, I apologize for intruding, but the–”

Zeke looked up from his position on the bed to see Pieck standing in the doorway. Her previously neutral expression adjusted minutely, sharply taking in her commanding officer’s current posture. He could feel her eyes scanning him, always too gifted in looking past his exterior to read his thoughts. She glanced out into the hallway and, noticing a few other soldiers, closed the door behind her. A gentle smile evolved on her features in the new privacy of his small cabin room. “Am I interrupting something?”

Zeke instantly turned away from Pieck to conceal his face, but transitioned into one fluid movement to reach for his glasses in an attempt to make his current emotional state not so apparent.

“No, of course not.” He took a breath before replying to steady his voice as he unfolded the temples of his glasses. The blond quickly wiped at his eyes to hide the evidence, pushing the glasses up the bridge of his nose. Now with his spectacles on, he felt much safer. They always acted as a protective barrier for him; something that he could hide behind to shield him from the outside world, just like their previous owner did for him.

He turned around to face his visitor with a small smile. “What is it, Pieck?”

The raven-haired woman took three extra seconds than necessary to respond. Was she still attempting to push past his shields and read his thoughts? “The rest of the platoon and I were wondering what our next moves would be,” Pieck explained softly, leaning back against the wall opposite him for support. “We wanted to prepare for whatever plan you had come up with after receiving intel from Reiner and Bertholdt.”

“Yes, our primary objective is to capture the Coordinate. Now is the perfect opportunity to strike.” Zeke crossed the small room, going past Pieck to grab his jacket and open the door. He didn’t like feeling trapped. He thought if he could leave the room, then he could leave his previous emotions behind with it. He gestured for Pieck to follow him out, holding the door open for her. “That second ship that just came in hasn’t unloaded yet, correct? If so, tell them there’s a change of plans and have them hold off on disposing of their load of traitors,” Zeke ordered, his keen mind already concocting a plan of attack. He would retrieve the Coordinate, his younger brother, no matter the cost, even if it required him to go down a very dark path to do so.

“They will serve a much more glorious purpose for Marley.”

The woman beside him suppressed a shudder. Her thoughts raced back to the memory of the village of Ragako. Was that the purpose Zeke was speaking of? Pieck lowered her voice as she responded, keeping her gaze locked forward to spot anyone who might be listening. “Reiner and Bertholdt seem to have an alternative viewpoint. From what they’ve been saying, it sounds like they believe that retrieving Annie should be the primary objective.”

“Is that so?” Zeke questioned, turning to look back at Pieck from over his shoulder as he made his way up the stairs of the ship. He paused as he reached the top deck’s landing to briefly consider their ludicrous request. The pair brought back a young woman who ate Marcel during one of their very first nights on this island, lost Annie, squandered five years playing dress-up, and they had the audacity to make such a demand? 

The blond extended his arms to put his jacket on, flinging it up over his shoulders with such an accentuation that implied that the choice layered within his next words, should they take it, they would soon come to regret.

“Then they can take it up with me.”

.  . .

Zeke took a deep breath through his nose, the crisp, cool air of the early morning hours invigorating his lungs. His eyes adjusted to the sunlight creeping in through the trees as he and his group–consisting of himself, the Cart Titan, Bertholdt, and a small collection of drugged, docile Eldian traitors–waited for their cue. He could still feel the warm coffee slosh in his stomach that he consumed only mere moments ago with Reiner and Bertholdt prior to Pieck warning them of their enemy’s approach. 

It took a physical sparring match with Reiner to convince both him and Bertholdt to focus on retrieving the Coordinate instead of Annie, and he had worked far too hard on devising a plan to outsmart and outlast these Eldian devils to turn back now. The plan was simple: Reiner would hide in the walls while the rest of the Warrior Unit waited at a base far enough away to be noticed by these so-called Scouts. Reiner would then hold his position until they used the Coordinate to plug up the outermost hole before making his next move, and Zeke would wait for his signal to plug up the inner entrance to Shiganshina.

As Zeke overheard a titan transformation from even this distance away, he knew that had to be Eren. The blond then moved with purpose, his boots lightly crunching fallen leaves with each step until he reached into the Cart’s cargo to pull out a pair of binoculars. Figures with green hoods lined the circumference of the top of the wall, their faces concealed. The War Chief had to give them credit for the extra safety precaution, as it prevented Reiner and Bertholdt from being able to quickly identify Eren while in human form. His breath hitched upon the realization that any one of them could be his younger brother. Zeke was potentially mere moments away from meeting a sibling he never knew that he had; he could afford to wait just a little bit longer.

His eyebrows furrowed as he watched the majority of the scouts suddenly descend down the inner side of the wall. “Hmm.” A single huff of amusement escaped his lips as he lowered the binoculars. “Someone in that group of devils is a little too smart for my liking.” He climbed up the small rope ladder attached to the side of Pieck’s Cart, tapping the barrel that Bertholdt was hiding in to get his attention. “I think they are catching on to where Reiner is. Let’s get in position.” The War Chief took his place on the very back of Pieck’s rigging, grabbing onto a rope that secured the pile of prone, tied-up Eldians to the rear of the Cart’s cargo.

“Yes, War Chief,” Pieck dutifully responded as she concentrated on moving the Cart Titan and her precious goods to their proper positions. She moved to the eastern side of the wall, hooking around trees to give her some cover. At this point, Pieck felt very attuned to the physical landscape of Paradis. She had spent most of yesterday evening and the early morning stealthily moving as a scout to track the movements of the island devils, biding her time to notify the others once their enemy had made it to the official district of Shiganshina. If anyone could maneuver this carefully in a fairly open valley, it was her.

Prior to the Scouts approach, the Warriors carefully placed camouflaged Eldian traitors along the outer perimeter of their siege formation. They were not afforded much cover the closer they got to the path that led straight to Shiganshina, however, so they would need to be placed now while the enemy was distracted by Reiner. As the Cart moved along their planned route, Zeke cut a section of rope every couple of yards, causing one bundled-up, incapacitated Eldian to fall off the back of the cargo hold each time, hitting the ground with a thump and a small roll. With each instance of lightening their load, Zeke internally promised these poor souls that their suffering would end soon enough.

The sound of Reiner’s transformation reverberated off the walls. That was Zeke’s signal; it was now his move to make. The War Chief cut his hand with his dagger before jumping off the back of the Cart, blood droplets tracing his trajectory along the ground. The rush of being in mid-air compelled him to let out a mighty roar that seemed to carry on the valley wind, causing the pre-placed Eldians to all transform in an effect that looked like a semi-circle shaped explosion. The Beast Titan landed on the dirt path with a thud, making himself the center point of the blockade. Zeke willed the Beast’s hand to pick up a large boulder nearby, hurling it through the air to crash right in front of the gate that led into Shiganshina, effectively caging them like the animals they are.

The War Chief then moved onto the next phase in the plan. He raised one of his long arms up in the air, bringing his fist down to punch the ground with a roar. The command rang out along the ground like a shockwave, signaling for the smaller titans to begin running towards the collection of buildings that were clustered along the district’s entrance. This move, Zeke theorized, would not only cut them off from their horses, but also cause the devils to collect their mounts all in one place, allowing for Reiner to easily dispose of them. If the horses could be eliminated, then this match turned into a waiting game, one that the Warriors could outlast easily.

Pieck’s Cart Titan stood a few meters back from the Beast, her eyes watching for signs of movement from the enemy scurrying on top of the wall ahead. They reminded her of ants, tiny green and brown specks, and she wondered how simple it would be to squish them to gain what they came here for. From their position, they could hear a new sound. It was like nails on a chalkboard back at school, combined with the crunching sound of granite. It was coming from beyond the wall, and it dawned on Pieck that the sound was most likely Reiner. He was more than likely scaling the wall, and she couldn’t help but allow a sigh of relief to escape her, now knowing that Reiner was truly following the plan.

Surely, this would be the time for the devils to lose their nerve, scramble, and fall out of formation. However, Pieck was impressed to see the dots on the wall remain unmoving as the Armored Titan ascended. Finally, just as she predicted Reiner would reach the top, she detected a flurry of movement.

“They waited,” the Cart Titan murmured, just loud enough for Zeke to hear, “but they’ve made their move.”

As the Armored Titan hefted its body above the wall, Pieck couldn’t help but stare in awe. She held her breath as Reiner crouched above the world, staring down with intent at his next target. But as he readied to make his move, Pieck watched as a glow lit up the horizon beyond Reiner, like a bolt of lightning that had struck from the ground upwards. Just as the light faded, Reiner leapt into the air, disappearing back behind the wall once more. How could he do that? Pieck wondered. Zeke’s plan had been moving smoothly, just as he had predicted. Reiner must have had a reason to turn around, and after his fight with the War Chief, it could have only meant one thing.

Pieck couldn’t help but chuckle to her superior. “It seems like Reiner is adjusting the script, War Chief. My guess is that the Coordinate has just shown themself once more.”

“Hm,” the response sounded like a low growl as it came out of the Beast Titan’s fanged mouth. “He had no choice. He can’t allow the Coordinate to run away.” His eyes glanced down to a spare boulder at his side. A little birdie in that cage is quite smart; he could only wonder who it was.

A few tense moments passed as they waited at a distance. They had no visual, but could hear the tense sounds of a titan fight happening inside. Zeke could only hope that Reiner would wear Eren down enough to prevent him from transforming again. As precious minutes went by, Zeke wondered if he should make the executive decision to proceed with Plan B. The War Chief had no doubt that their version of a Trojan Horse was antsy from having to wait beside him. His contemplations, however, were interrupted by the sound of a scream that cut through the air like a knife. The three remaining Warriors outside of Shinganshina knew exactly what that meant.

“Bertholdt, you’re up,” the Beast commented, grabbing the lone barrel with holes drilled near the top. He cranked his arm backwards, said a quiet blessing to himself on behalf of Bertholdt’s stomach, and hurled his pitch forward, launching the barrel high in the sky towards the district of Shinganshina. It was almost like watching an asteroid break into the atmosphere, where the people down below it’s trajectory could do nothing except brace for impact.

Zeke held his breath as the barrel descended from view, concealed by the wall. He counted down in his head like he was in a control room… three….two….one… 

The War Chief’s eyebrows furrowed; no transformation came. Something, once again, must have gone wrong. He grit his teeth, knowing that he needed to make sure he was prepared to pick up the slack. “Go get me some extra boulders,” the Beast ordered to the only other intelligent titan remaining, keeping his eyes fixated in front of him. “I need to make sure I have plenty of ammo.”

The Cart Titan turned around, walking away from the main battlefield. Her eyes scanned the horizon for boulders of an appropriate size, just large enough to fit into the Beast’s hand. Locating one, she pushed the stone out of the ground, lifting it from its partially buried state, and began rolling it forward. Steadily, she started to accumulate a small pile of boulders next to the Beast, when a huge sound caught her attention. 

Pieck sighed; it had taken Bertholdt long enough to transform. As a massive plume of smoke rose into the air, Pieck couldn’t help but wonder what had delayed him. Was Zeke’s original aim off? Not likely. Could it have been too close to Reiner or the Coordinate, requiring Berthold to find another location to change? Either way, the rear blockade of their pincer attack was set. The Colossal Titan would destroy the town from the inside, obliterating as many of the devils as he could while he blocked their path. This would eventually force them to the front to attempt an escape, where Zeke would be waiting.

“Here,” Pieck’s distorted voice murmured to the Beast as she rolled another stone to his right. “What’s the right phrase… ‘batter up?’”

“As expected of Pieck, that’s exactly right,” the Beast responded, picking up a boulder with his clawed hands. The scouts on the outside of the wall were all grouped together trying to pick off the smaller pure titans, so it was the perfect opportunity for him to start off the first inning. He crushed the large stone into pieces before placing his free hand behind his back, signaling a “one” with his index finger. Pieck had watched enough of Zeke’s pitching assault over the years to know what each of the hand signals meant. One finger meant “center,” two fingers meant “inside” to the right, and three fingers meant “outside” to the left. He had always complained he didn’t have a catcher to call the pitches for him, so he had to do it himself.

With a grunt, Zeke raised his left leg high in the air and pushed off with his back foot, sending the “ball” flying forward. The pitch was met with a thousand screams, the splintering of building foundations, and a mist of blood spraying the area, but to Zeke, it just looked like a rectangular strike zone above home plate.

“Hmm,” Zeke evaluated the throw, also needing to play the role of the umpire. “Pitched that one a little too high.” Ball One. He looked over his shoulder, noticing Pieck was rolling him yet another rock. “Thanks. Leave that one over there.”

He picked up another ball before turning his red eyes back towards the batter’s box, tilting his neck to the side to give it a good crack before going into his windup. “Well, that first one was just a warm up pitch.” He brought his free hand back behind him to signal a “two,” readying to throw his next pitch.

“I’m going for a perfect game!”

His pitch was met in the same manner: more screams, more destruction, more blood. Strike One. Zeke’s eyes diverted upwards as something collided with the top of the wall, catching his eye. Squinting, he recognized the shape immediately. It was a titan, and not just any titan, the Founding Titan. A wave of excitement coursed through Zeke’s veins; Bertholdt must have launched him up there. Just a few more decisive moves and this would all be over soon. He hoped that he could make a good first impression.

Zeke threw two more pitches, deeming them both to be strikes to grant him his first strikeout. Pieck noticed that Zeke was using his pitches efficiently, herding the group instead of scattering them. At this rate, the cowardly devils would be huddled together like cattle, allowing the butcher to make quick work of them. As Pieck dropped him off one more boulder, Zeke began to ready himself when he first heard a distant shout. He looked up, noticing his next batter had already stepped into the box. Several dozen scouts were riding towards him at full speed, all screaming their lungs out in an effort to will them to move forward.

“Well, I didn’t think this is how it would end, but a suicide attack, huh?” The War Chief let out a sigh that expressed disappointment. “I thought they had something else up their sleeves.” Instead, their last-ditch effort was to try to get hit by a pitch in order to get a free walk to first. He crushed the boulder into small shards within his hand, narrowing his eyes as they launched what looked like a smoke signal. No matter, it wouldn’t stop him. He threw his pitch right down the center, kicking up brown dirt that soon intermingled with the green smoke in the air. Strike One.

Zeke thought that would end the top of the inning, but the few devils still standing continued their charge towards him. He frowned. Why hadn’t they turned around? Have they no self-preservation? Such a shame… Zeke thought with a sigh, that they cannot learn from the mistakes of their past. He squeezed the boulder in his hand even tighter, causing it to crumble more. Due to the memories that were stolen from them, they will just keep repeating the same mistakes over and over again. He hated war, he hated conflict, and in the end, it’s what will push every single human, old and young alike, to lay down their life, forcing this vicious time loop to continue onwards. They think they’ll be dying honorably, but they’re just prolonging their own suffering. All Eldians have been born to suffer; how foolish that they can’t see it.

Zeke did not notice the increasing amount of pressure he was applying to his fist until his hand sounded like a rock quarry. “Ah..” Zeke blinked, staring down at the newly made gravel in his clawed hand. “I crushed it so hard it turned into dust.” He let out a laugh to shake himself free from the grip of his thoughts. “Silly me. Why are you getting so worked up about this? You’re not like your father, remember?”

The War Chief picked up a new ball, making sure to be careful with it this time around. “It’s all about having fun, no matter what it is you’re doing.” He shook his arms and legs to loosen himself up a bit as he signaled another “one” behind his back, moving into the beginning of his pitching movement. They need not worry; like a wounded animal, he’ll put them out of their misery soon enough.

“So let’s just turn them all into proud little chunks of meat.”

Strike Two. A big smile formed on Zeke’s face as he raised both of his arms in the air to celebrate. “Did you see that?!” He directed his question to Pieck. “The pitch this time was something else, huh?!” He was about to turn behind him to see if Pieck was still watching, but three small scouts emerged from the dust, still charging towards him.

“Oh, come on now!” Zeke sneered, the words coming out as a snarl from the mouth of the Beast. “Even if you scream your lungs out, WHAT’S THE DAMN POINT?!”

He yelled as he threw his final pitch, breathing heavily as all fell quiet around him. Strike Three. “You’re out…poor things.”

Usually three outs were required to end one half of an inning, but the opposing team ran out of batters. He was about to celebrate his shutout when a thud to his right caught his attention. The culprit of the noise was one of his pure titans falling to the ground. He narrowed his eyes, trying to focus through all the dust and debris. It wasn’t just one titan, it was a whole line of his titans. That’s odd, how were his titans all killed?

Meanwhile, the Cart Titan was off fetching yet another boulder. It shouldn’t take long now , Pieck hypothesized. If I calculate his rate of elimination of the enemy, he should be able to pick off the group here outside of the wall in approximately two or three more throws. Since I already left him another boulder, he might only need one more after this–

As Pieck turned around, pushing the heavy weight of Zeke’s next piece of ammunition, what she saw stopped every calculation in her mind. Where there was once a semicircle of intimidating pillars was now laid to waste, every titan slain as if they were sleeping. Only one more remained, their leader in the middle. But what could have been powerful enough to do this, and with no warning?

As Pieck watched a small dot, no bigger than a gnat at this distance, sail across the sky towards the Beast, the scenery around her changed. It was as if she was standing on that geyser-filled battlefield all of those years ago. At the time, she had run ahead into the battlefield herself to allow the Beast more time to recover from a particularly brutal hit that snuck up on them from the side. That was her job. She protected him from the sidelines, never earning glory for herself, but only to lift him up as the Boy Wonder he was always meant to be. She hadn’t even minded stepping on landmines, as long as Zeke was there to bring their final goal into fruition. The last thing she had heard before she had stepped on that trap was Zeke’s roar, calling out her name. This time, the shadow had strayed too far from the sun, and it was her turn to watch the inevitable. It was as if she was in a play, but she was playing the wrong part. As she charged forward, leaping and bounding over the field that divided them, unable to fulfill her duty in time, she screamed out his name.

“ZEKE!”

The sound of small gunfire reverberated along the billows of smoke while a grappling hook cut through the fog, latching onto the Beast’s fur. What emerged on the other end of the line was an unholy sight that was anything but human. The figure flew through the air like a bat out of hell, his face covered in blood that was not his own. With a roar, Zeke reached up to swat at the creature, only for the thing to spin around his hand and down his arm, carving his Titan’s whole limb in the process. Zeke watched, eyes wide with horror, as parts of his arm fell away like pieces of chopped up vegetables.

A recent conversation surfaced to his consciousness. Reiner and Bertholdt warned him about a single soldier that was extremely dangerous. He racked his brain to remember more. What was his name…? What was his name…?!

Levi.

The abomination of a man hooked himself to the Beast once more, circling back around for another go. Zeke had no time to react to the pain that his nerves were no doubt signaling to his brain, for his nape was exposed!

Pieck pushed the Cart Titan faster than she ever had, willing its legs to run faster. She watched as Zeke covered the back of his neck, the insect-like enemy whirling around his body from the back. A spray of crimson rained from the Beast’s face as the scout then slashed his eyes, effectively blinding him. Almost there, almost there! I’m still too far away! Hold on! Despite her internal pleas, she was helpless as muscle and sinew was carved away, his Achilles tendon severed.

Her breath caught in her throat. The Beast Titan fell.

It all happened so quickly. Zeke suddenly couldn’t see, then he couldn’t move, then he was prone, his Titan limp like a puppet whose strings were just cut. In all of his years as a Warrior, he had never experienced this much loss of control. Everything was always on his terms. He was Marley’s Strongest Warrior, he was their Boy Wonder. So why now did he feel humiliated, exposed, and terrified, all at once?

He hated it.

He heard the demon speak for the first time. “It looked like you were having too much fun just now.”

Zeke didn’t have much time to think. He had to harden quickly. The War Chief focused his attention to the back of his neck, trying to crystallize his skin.

“Let’s make this even more fun.” The monster sneered through gritted teeth, each word laced with hate and vitriol, his malicious intent clear.

I’m not going to make it. The thought echoed in Zeke’s mind as Levi sliced up the hand that was protecting his nape. Shit! Shit! Zeke began to scream as panic started to set in. Couldn’t someone, anyone, help him?! Where was everyone?! He hadn’t seen Reiner since the start of the battle, and if Bertholdt was still in his Colossal, then there was no way he could get to him in time.

That left one person.

In a last ditch attempt to save himself from the devil on his back, Zeke prematurely ripped himself out of his Titan on his own accord, causing his forearms to rip away from the rest of his body, still too attached to the ligaments of his Titan. He screamed out the start of what may have been the very last word he would ever have the chance to speak.

“PIE–AGHHHCCKK!”

The rest of her name died within his lungs as a sword plunged straight into his mouth, knocking him flat onto his back. The sharp blade cut the corners of his lips, causing the rest of his senses to dull and a ringing sensation within his ears, which made it difficult to understand his assailant’s next words.

“Titanizing takes a great toll on the body, so while it’s busy recovering, you can’t transform again. Isn’t that right?”

Before Zeke had any time to even react to his question, Levi shoved the blade upward, piercing through his cheek and out the small stretch of skin that covered the bottom part of his eye socket. The pain was immense and unbearable. Zeke choked as he tried to gasp for air, asphyxiating on his own blood that was pooling in his mouth.

The War Chief’s vision began to shake as he came to the very clear realization that he was going to die here, but only after he suffered through cruel and unusual torture by this fiendish man’s hands, no doubt his vision of just retribution for slaying his comrades in an act of war. His dream, his and Mr. Ksaver’s dream, would die here as well. He would never meet his younger brother who didn’t even know he existed, he would never save the world from its never-ending suffering, and he would never get the chance to say goodbye to her.

I’m going to lose him… If I can’t move faster, I’m going to lose him!

Speed had never mattered to Pieck. Her endurance and intellect were what had impressed the Marleyan government. But in this precise moment, she wished nothing more than to have the speed the other Warriors had always possessed. She was nearly there, just a few more yards, close enough to see the man’s sword impaled into the face of her leader. A momentary prayer flickered through her mind as she sprung into the air, forfeiting vision for her jaws to open wide. She prayed to any higher being that might be listening. The Founder Ymir. God. She didn’t care.

Just let me get there in time!

Out of the steam of the Beast’s fading titan form, Pieck rocketed into view. She worked on instinct alone. The steam did nothing to keep her from locking in on her one and only target. Her jaws clamped definitively, intimidating the offending pest of a man to dodge her bite. However, it was with the delicacy of a surgeon that she grabbed her prize. Without pausing, Pieck lifted Zeke’s mangled body into the jaws of the Cart Titan, and ran.

Retreat… Retreat… Pieck thought. If I don’t run fast enough, he’ll come back and try to take us both down. He still has the other half of the circle of Titans to anchor to. If I can just get to the wall…

Now free to move, Zeke coughed up the excess blood that was clogging his mouth, leaving a spray of crimson in the Cart’s wake. As if reading Pieck’s thoughts, he took a quick breath in, the air scraping against the insides of his throat before screaming an order to his titans that were still standing at attention.

“YOU LOT! KILL THAT RUNT!”

As the pure titans scrambled past them, the War Chief winced in pain. Even just the galloping of the Cart ached what was left of his entire body. 

“You really got me good there, Levi.” Zeke admitted out loud. If it wasn’t for Pieck, he would be a goner. “It hurts, but your arsenal is all used up.” He spat out more blood as they continued to gain distance from the devil they left behind. It was touch-and-go there for a while, but they, only barely, came out with the win.

Zeke tried to steady his breathing as Pieck slowed down to an eventual halt, approaching the edge of the wall. He would have to thank her later; right now, they had no time to spare. 

“Pieck,” Zeke started, his voice sounding like shattered glass, “toss me up on your shoulders. I need you to start climbing. I’m in no position to fight anymore. We need to regroup with Reiner and Bertholdt, grab the Coordinate, and then fall back. Do you understand?”

Following his command, Pieck swung the Cart Titan’s head, releasing Zeke at just the right moment for his limbless body to land onto her rigging on her back. “Yes, War Chief Zeke,” she affirmed his plan before looking up to judge the height of the wall. “I’ll have to move slowly so that you don’t fall off. You have nothing to hold on with anymore.”

After waiting for Zeke to get situated, tugging the ropes over his shoulders like a backpack, they started their ascent. The climb up was treacherous with a severe lack of handholds. But “slow and steady” had always been Pieck’s motto. She found crevices created by Zeke’s boulders, an unexpected benefit. As she climbed, Pieck gestured with her head back to the pile of titans that Zeke had unleashed on his enemy.

“What was that?”

“A monster,” Zeke replied through gritted teeth, doing his best to stabilize himself as Pieck climbed the wall, his back flat against the crate behind him. “No need to panic though. I’m confident we’re out of harm’s way. Their equipment runs on gas. Even if he’s able to maneuver around my titans, there’s no way he’ll have enough to get back here.” The War Chief took a slow, steadying breath, his first one since his almost fatal encounter. With no way of being able to communicate with Reiner and Bertholdt, he had to improvise their next moves and stay on task. He had no idea what the current state of the playing field was on the other side of the wall, so any distractions could have dire consequences.

As the Cart reached the top of the wall, Zeke quickly scanned the area, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the sudden burst of sunlight. “Tch,” he huffed out of irritation, immediately noticing the very apparent decomposing shells of the Colossal and Armored Titans. The two titans of Marley that were the hardest to bring down, and these Paradisian devils somehow did it. This was no longer an extraction, this was a recovery. Scanning the rooftops near the Colossal, he noticed a small stump of a figure with a recognizable haircut and steam radiating from his torn limbs. Unfortunately for Pieck and Zeke, a scout was already near his vicinity. “Pieck!” Zeke called, getting her attention. “On your three! Bertholdt’s closer to us. We’ll get him first, then go look for Reiner!”

“Roger.”

Bracing herself, Pieck leaped into the air. Gravity pulled her downward until she crashed through a building below. Debris exploded around the Cart Titan before she crawled through the wreckage and up onto the roof of an accompanying building. She scanned the other rooftops for signs of her comrades, until her eyes locked on the prone, black-haired figure to her right. With an enemy fast approaching Bertholdt, Pieck darted across two buildings to her left before cutting a diagonal to the right. She landed just as the scout grabbed Bertholdt, a three-foot long blade pressed against his soft neck as the Cart Titan loomed over them both.

“Don’t come any closer!” the boy demanded. “I’d rather slit his throat than let you have him back!”

Zeke was ready to attempt some kind of negotiation; that is, until he got a good look at the boy’s face. He had clear titanization marks around his eyes. There were only five titan shifters involved in this battle, which meant that this boy could only be one person–The Coordinate, the Founding Titan, the one person that he promised Mr. Ksaver so many years ago that he would find. He could feel his body begin to shake with nerves, disbelief, and excitement, all wrapped into one. The Coordinate had many titles, but one was now more important to Zeke above all the rest…

Brother.

“Are you…” Zeke began, his mouth suddenly dry, “Eren…Yeager?”

The brown-haired boy only gritted his teeth in response, plunging the blade farther into Bertholdt’s neck. His actions and passion were just as Zeke expected. It’s certainly the end product that Grisha had hoped for in his first son. Yet, thanks to having many more years to master his craft in an environment that supported his ideology, their father obtained his most perfect creation in Eren. 

Zeke kept his eyes wide open, his gray irises locking in on the boy in front of him. He refused to blink, fearing that if he did, his little brother would disappear amongst the steam radiating from his face wounds, like some mirage toying with his imagination.

The more Zeke looked him over, however, the more surprised he became. For days now, all he could do was imagine what Eren looked like based off of the description he received. He was nothing like he pictured. The elder brother was so overcome with disbelief that in a rare instance, he left his metaphorical cage wide open, allowing the first thought that came to his mind to carelessly escape from his lips.

“You look nothing like your father…”

The declaration caused Eren to freeze in place. “What…?”

Zeke had so much to say and such little time. He had imagined their first meeting so many times over and over in his mind. Whatever he said next had to be genuine enough to not only calm Eren down, but to also convince him to go with them.

“Please believe me,” Zeke started, trying to speak in a clear and soothing tone of voice. “I understand what you’ve been through. We are both victims of that man. You’ve been brainwashed by your father.”

Eren’s grip on Bertholdt slacked ever so slightly, his eyes widening at the mention of one of his parents, clearly confused. “My d-dad?”

Zeke felt his heart jolt within his chest. It was the small breakthrough he was hoping for, one that got Eren’s attention just enough that maybe he would be invested in hearing more. Zeke was about to open his mouth to speak again until he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned his gaze upwards, and much to his horror, saw Levi standing at the top of the wall, covered from head-to-toe in blood and smoke.

“What?!” Zeke felt his stomach sink. “You’ve got to be kidding me. He chased me all the way here? What a god damned monster.”

Like some demonic entity that has now attached himself to Zeke, Levi slipped off the edge, sliding down the wall to continue his haunt. The blond grimaced, knowing that his conversation with Eren would have to wait.

“Fine, Levi. My injuries force me to call this a draw.” Zeke turned his attention back to the two young men in front of him. He knew that if Pieck tried to lunge for Bertholdt, Eren would slit his throat immediately. Alternatively, if she tried the inherently more difficult option of grabbing the both of them, then they would be pursued by Levi, all the while still having to search for Reiner. His best option would be to retreat. Additionally, if the Paradisians are keeping Annie imprisoned, then that most likely meant they did not know how to transfer titan powers. Returning home with four titan shifters was better than none, and perhaps after regrouping, Marley would advance on Paradis to recover both the Female and Colossal Titans and reclaim the Coordinate.

With a sigh, the War Chief decreed his order. “Bertholdt, I’m sorry, but it seems like this is it for you.” As the Cart began to turn away, Zeke glanced back at Eren, knowing he only had time to say one more thing. His younger brother had to know it pained him to leave him behind; he still had so much more to tell him.

“Eren, I’ll be back to save you someday. I promise.”

With those words of departure, her mind spinning about what she had just overheard, the Cart Titan sprung into the air, sailing away from their comrade and the Coordinate. Pieck grit her teeth at the retreat. They had failed now with two pieces of their mission, but perhaps she could salvage the rest. As she ran through the streets of Shiganshina, a smoke signal was fired into the air behind them. Ignoring it, she noticed the stump of a man that remained of Reiner, guarded by a few scouts. Springing once more, Pieck used her same scare tactic of snapping her jaws at the scouts as she had with that Levi character. The enemy dodged, one attempting to protect the other, before she delicately picked Reiner up. With one final look to her to the recovering scouts, Pieck ran.

Now carrying two of her wounded allies, all there was for Pieck to do was to escape. She managed to make her way up and over the exterior wall before sprinting away from the home of the island devils and towards the familiar dock. As she ran, the adrenaline that had been carrying her through the last few hours started to dissipate. She found her mind worked clearer than before, and the voices of the past played on repeat for her ears only, much like the phonograph in Zeke’s room. They had been clues that led up to the revelation she had just overheard.

“I’m Zeke. Zeke Yeager. It’s nice to meet you, Pieck Finger.”

“Why did you become a Warrior?”

“It’s a secret. Maybe someday, when you’re a Warrior too, I’ll tell you.”

Zeke had a brother. Not only was he a brother, but the son of Grisha Yeager. A renowned traitor to the Marleyan empire. And, apparently, he was also the Coordinate. Had Zeke known? He had to have known, she figured. Pieck didn’t doubt his intelligence for a moment. He must have pieced together the information during his talk with Reiner and Bertholdt. She had suspected at the time that Zeke had been bothered by something that they had spoken about; now she knew why. After all, when Zeke had declared that the two other Warriors could “take it up” with him if they wanted to retrieve Annie, Pieck couldn’t help but have thought that it sounded… personal. Now she understood why.

All she knew was that this was the first time she had heard Zeke speak with true, genuine intent. Even his words whispered to her had a condition attached to them or something that he held back. But not to this brother of his, one that he didn’t even know. Did she feel jealous? With dark amusement, she guessed that she did. But was it jealousy? Or hurt, for him not telling her the truth? For not trusting her? She was surprised to feel how much that stung. His reserve had never bothered her previously. For all of the times that she had trusted him in her life, things would never be fully equal between them. After all, she was just the shadow.

The sun was sinking lower into the sky when Pieck finally stopped to rest. After carefully lowering Reiner, she closed her eyes and released her connection with the Cart Titan. Steam hissed around her as she emerged. Quickly, she scrambled up the carcass of her titan to find her War Chief still healing as he sat tied to his makeshift saddle.

Her eyes creased with concern as she looked up at him. “Are you all right?”

It took a moment for Zeke to register that Pieck was speaking to him. For the entirety of their return trip back towards the docks, Zeke was lost in the endless pool of his own thoughts, replaying every decision he made and every word he said. Even just a minute of difference could have resulted in Eren sitting beside him as they ran from Shiganshina. Yet here he was, empty-handed, with nothing to show to Marley except for bringing both the Armored and Jaw home.

“Hmm?” Zeke blinked, his eyes refocusing onto the woman in front of him. “Oh, yes. I’ll be just fine.” He shifted in his seat, relaxing a bit as he felt the familiar shape of his glasses safely tucked away in the side pocket of his cargo pants. If he knew Pieck, and he knew Pieck well, she may question him further. Surely he’d need to tell her something, but he needed time to devise the right words.

The blond’s expression turned into a lighthearted smile, nodding forward in the direction of the Cart’s additional passenger with a chuckle. “Besides, I think it’s Reiner you should be worried about.”

It was the smile that pushed her over the edge. Pieck had fought so hard over the years to get Zeke to truly smile. She had told him jokes, continued their childish bets, and even broken a window attempting to play his favorite game with him. He has the gall… no, the impudence to smile like that? Putting up another wall that I have to conquer, just to get to the truth? Suddenly, that bubbling adrenaline that had morphed into worry over his safety during the course of her run mutated into something else. For the first time ever, Pieck felt truly angry at Zeke.

“Reiner? You think that I came out of the Cart Titan to check on Reiner?” she hissed, her eyes dark like a brewing storm. “You have the nerve to make a joke like that? After what we just went through? What you nearly put me through?” Pieck shot up, her hands balled up into fists as her nails cut into her palms. This was infuriating. “You nearly died , Zeke!” she yelled at him, her voice cracking on the word. “You nearly died while I was off fetching you rocks to throw, and all that I could do was watch! I had to watch while you got carved up into pieces! I almost–!”

Pieck stopped her sentence short, pinching the bridge of her nose. She needed to calm her emotions or she would say something that she would regret disclosing in front of Reiner. Crouching down, she leaned in close to gaze into Zeke’s eyes as she spoke in a low murmur. “We lost Marcel. We lost Annie. Now we’ve lost Bertholdt. We nearly lost Reiner, and I can’t lose you, too! You were going to have me return back to Marley, Zeke. By myself.”

Zeke felt his lungs deflate as Pieck’s words hung in the air, her sentences ringing in his ears like an alarm bell. She had never been angry with him before. She had never yelled at him like this before. In fact, the last person he could recall yelling at him like this was his father. The connection caused a long forgotten feeling to resurface inside of him, and all he could do was stare past her, stunned. 

The silence was not only deafening, but also allowed Zeke to fully process the meaning of her words. Pieck knew that he would figure it out quicker than anyone else in the world: If she returned to Marley by herself, Pieck would be treated as a failure of the Titan program. She would be fed to another bright-eyed Warrior, crunched to death in the jaws of the next Cart Titan. She knew this would be her fate eventually, but this was still far before her time. She had more she could give to Marley. There was more she wanted to do for the Eldian people.

After what she had just gone through, Pieck wanted, no, deserved an explanation. One that she was tired of waiting for.

Chapter Text

The heavy metal door clanged shut behind Pieck Finger, locking itself into place. One patient down , she thought with a sigh. One more to go . Exhausted, Pieck pinched the bridge of her slightly hooked nose and took a moment to lean against the cool metal behind her. The temperature grounded her, allowing her to think back on the events of the past few hours. 

After transporting her comrades back to the Paradis docks, Pieck had informed the ship’s captain of their change of plans. Grumbling about the inefficiencies of Eldians, the captain had ordered his men to prepare the vessel for travel. Pieck had used her tactics of a helpless look through her long eyelashes combined with a coy smile to convince two blushing Marleyan soldiers, most likely younger than she was, to help carry Reiner and Zeke onto the ship. That was as far as flirtatious manipulation could get her, and the Marleyans had left her alone to tend to her fellow Warriors. The captain had made it clear that she should not expect further help from him or his crew, and so Pieck had become the honorary nurse for the two Eldian men.

The dark-haired woman pushed herself up from Reiner’s door and began to walk down the long hallway. The ship rocked beneath her feet. She couldn’t help but notice the similarity between her and the vessel: wavering, but staying on course. After the revelations back on the island, Pieck had been left with nothing but her own thoughts for hours, replaying every scene, every word, every expression between the Coordinate and the man she cared for. She felt unsteady, but hoped to find answers in the next room.

Gripping the door handle, Pieck firmed her resolve. She felt like she was going into an interrogation. She didn’t like that comparison, not in relation to him. But she would get answers. She deserved them. Twisting the handle, Pieck opened the door.

Looking out the circular window in his small cabin quarters, Zeke’s grey eyes turned towards the woman that was entering his space. He was sitting upright on his bed, his back leaning against the wall for support. This was how the two Marleyan soldiers placed him, and this was how he stayed. With his limbs still regenerating, he was unable to move, which left him in a far more helpless state than he would care to admit.

“How’s Reiner doing?” the War Chief questioned, his words breaking up the steam that radiated from his knees and elbows.

Pieck huffed a bitter chuckle. This was his first question to her, after everything?

“How do you think?” she replied, taking the liberty of sitting down on the edge of his bed. “He’s still regenerating. His body was a wreck when we saved him, and from what I can gather, so is his psyche. He just keeps murmuring words and names. I…” Pieck sighed before admitting, “I think I heard him mumble that he wishes that we had just left him there.”

“Tch..” Zeke left out a huff of air before pursing his lips together. They went to great lengths to recover him and this is the thanks they get? He couldn’t help but feel a little irritated. “Well he best have an attitude adjustment by the time we get off this boat if I’m going to plead his case to the higher-ups.”

With nothing else to do, Zeke had all the time in the world to envision what was ahead of them once they stepped foot back on Marleyan soil. The list of Reiner’s offenses included losing Marcel, losing the Female Titan, wasting five years of valuable time, leaving Marley’s defense open by needing their two remaining Titans to go recover them, spending more expenses on the operation, being lousy in offensive combat, and most importantly, no Coordinate. He’d be labeled as an utter failure. Zeke would have to do some major convincing if Reiner didn’t want to be Cadet food, and he certainly knew someone who would be more than willing to take his place.

“Who’s going to tell Porco?” Zeke expressed quietly, his tone changing as his thoughts traveled. Porco wouldn’t be getting the Armored like the younger man always thought he deserved. Instead, he would be getting his brother’s former Titan. Zeke had only just acquired a brother, but even then he knew that the news required a certain sensitivity. The gain of a Titan at the expense of the loss of a brother was not an equivalent exchange.

“I’ll do it.” Pieck adjusted herself on the bed, closing a little more of the physical distance between Zeke and herself. “I spoke to Porco before we left. I made him a promise to tell Marcel ‘hi’ for him. I’ll have to explain that I wasn’t able to keep my promise. I’ll tell him then.”

Zeke nodded. “I think that’s best… as I may not have the opportunity to when we get back.” Putting Reiner aside, Zeke knew that as leader, he would also have to plead his own case. After all, it was his decision to leave Bertholdt behind, it was his strategy that failed in recovering the Coordinate, and it was said Coordinate that turned out to be his very own brother. He knew that he was far too important and valuable for Marley to toss aside, but that didn’t mean that he was exempt from severe reprimand and punishment.

Pieck stared at the features of the man in front of her. His grey eyes were dark like steel. She knew that look well; he was coming up with strategies for when they returned back to Marley. When Zeke strategized, he couldn’t be vulnerable. The color of his eyes mimicked the metaphorical iron wall that guarded his more sensitive side. But Pieck knew a remedy for that.

With the grace of a cat, Pieck moved onto her knees beside him. Her unwavering gaze forced him to look up at her just as her hand slid forward along the side of his thigh. Confusion seemed to wrinkle his brow before her fingers slipped into his side pocket, grabbing a hold of two items. Her grip onto his leg caused a small dent within his iron mask and all Zeke could do was watch what she had in store.

“Here. Care for a smoke?” Pieck sat up, glancing innocently at the lighter and Zeke’s cigarette box in her hand.

Zeke let out the breath he was holding like a deflated balloon, realizing that it was her intent to lead him astray. Regardless, she knew him well, or at least, knew well what he allowed her to know. A smoke right now would calm his nerves and anchor his mind.

“Please. If you don’t mind,” the War Chief responded, not wanting to sign her up for the task of being his hands unless she wanted to.

Pieck smiled at him, a playful glint in her eyes as she opened the cigarette case. Pieck tucked a single stick in between her lips before setting the case down on Zeke’s nightstand, repeating the motions she had observed from him for years. She cracked open his window, allowing the accumulated steam from Zeke’s healing to escape out above the churning sea before lighting the cigarette. Then she flipped the lighter closed and blew out a slow stream of smoke into the air above them. She watched the smoke lazily, making him wait just a few seconds more before removing it from her own lips and holding it to his mouth.

Zeke observed in silence as he eyed her every move, simply raising an eyebrow at quite the production she was putting on. “You know, I recall someone many years ago telling me that I really shouldn’t be smoking and that it’s bad for my health.” He gave her a pointed look before placing his mouth on the filter, his lips brushing against her fingers as he took a long drag. The War Chief tilted his chin upwards and towards the open window before expelling the smoke from his lungs, the outlying wisps straying to dance with a few out-of-place strands of her hair. “I guess she grew up to realize there are worse things in this world than smoking.” Zeke took a moment to relish the feeling of the initial draw before accenting his next words of gratitude with a singular nod of his head. “Thank you.”

Pieck couldn’t help but smile at his nostalgic-tinged chiding. “You’re welcome. And maybe she realized that her life wouldn’t be ending from a cigarette or disease. That it was a finite amount of years… so why not try nearly anything once?” To emphasize her point, she took one more turn on the cigarette before placing it to his mouth again.

Just as Zeke was inhaling once more, Pieck decided to press Zeke further for answers. “So, back on the island…” she started, attempting to sound as nonchalant as possible. “...Was that the secret you’ve been keeping?

Zeke felt his chest constrict at her question. He not only used her offered hit as a way to mask his facial expression, but to also buy him more time to answer her blindsiding question. What was she referring to? He knew he let his guard down around Eren in front of her, but did he accidentally let something slip? He cursed himself internally; how could he make such a grave misstep at what was perhaps the climax of his very short lifespan.

“What do you mean?” Zeke questioned in an innocent tone, lies spilling out of his mouth under the cover of smoke.

“Why you became a Warrior…” she continued, alluding back to a conversation from long ago. As she closed her eyes, she could still see it: the brilliant Marleyan red of the apple in his hand, the yellow of his golden hair matching his candidate’s armband, and a pale finger lifted to his lips. “You had told me it was a secret. One that you would tell me when I became a Warrior.” Pieck let out a humorless laugh as she repeated his words. His promise that she had put so much youthful hope into now tasted flimsy and bitter on her tongue. “Eren Yeager?”

Zeke relaxed as soon as he was able to find a way out, and surprisingly, it was through honesty. “I did tell you. I held up my end of that promise on the boat ride over here. If it’s Eren you’re inquiring about, I only found out about him when Reiner and Bertholdt debriefed me after they arrived at the docks. That’s the truth.” With Reiner still alive, Zeke knew that information would make it back to the Marleyan higher-ups, and he had no good reason to ask Reiner to keep it a secret without looking suspicious. Because of that, he felt it was free information to pass along to Pieck and hoped that it would satisfy her enough to cut her questioning short.

Pieck heard the omission within the truth, choosing to call his bluff. “You may have only just found out about him. I believe that. But you said that you knew his father ,” she pointedly murmured. She had already put the pieces of the puzzle together; she wanted to hear him say it. “It was surprising, you know,” she held her hand away, withholding the cigarette from his mouth. She wouldn’t grant him a pause to consider his words this time. “Hearing you be so honest and unguarded with someone you had only just met.”

Zeke glanced at the cigarette, his one escape, as Pieck pulled it away from him. Feeling his mouth become dry, he did his best to swallow and keep his composure. “I was trying to get him to come with us, Pieck,” the male started, his storm cloud eyes shifting to look at her. “Not only that, but to calm him down enough to lower the blade from Bertholdt’s neck. I had to throw out something to get him interested in what I had to say. You’ve been trained in hostage situations; you should know standard protocol.” As wretched as it made him feel, if he had to use Bertholdt and flip it back onto Pieck just to get her off of his back, he would. It was a brutal reminder of a thought that passed within his mind during their time in Utgard Castle. He was not the prince in the fairytale; he was the witch. His words were a poisoned apple, seemingly harmless on the outside, but rotten within. Like the witch, he offered it to her, hoping she would take the bite.

He was right. She had been trained in what to do during a hostage situation. His words made complete logical sense, following every lesson that Marley’s military had drilled into her very being. But in that sentence hid either the assumption that she didn’t remember, or that Pieck Finger could be redirected so easily once her mind was made up on something. The Cart Titan knew that the Beast before her was avoiding her questions; but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

Pieck offered him another hit from the cigarette, as if acquiescing a single pawn forward in this conversational chess game. “Hm. If your objective was to save Bertholdt, I just find it odd that you could so quickly make the decision to leave him. Especially when you made a promise to Eren Yeager just after that to come back and ‘save him.’”

Zeke took another drag, baking the smoke within his lungs for a little longer than he would like as he heard Pieck’s words. She wasn’t convinced, and he was running out of ammunition. “Levi left me with little choice. I said that because that’s what our mission is–to recover the coordinate–and that’s what I believe. Recovering the Coordinate is saving him from those devils using him.” Zeke leaned forward, placing his lips on the filter once more before blowing out smoke into the air. “I’m sure after regrouping and cutting our losses, Marley will send us back out again. But I won’t have my calls be questioned,” the War Chief paused to assess the conversation. He only had one bullet left, and he’d take his last shot now. “He may have my blood, but Eren Yeager is not my family, Pieck.” His eyes turned upward to glance into her dark irises. “Not my real family, anyways.”

They held each other’s gaze for a torturous minute, the warmth of her eyes trying to melt their way through the frigid storm of his own. Once, she would have taken him at his word. She had believed in her War Chief, the sun to her shadow. But this mission had taught her something integral about herself. Pieck had always been rather talented in perceiving the true intentions of others. Despite that, she had allowed her sun’s light to blind her from the truth for years. She had finally seen the flicker of stars, secret truths kept hidden behind his light.

Ashamed of her inner turmoil, Pieck finally dropped her gaze, allowing Zeke to win the stare-off. Her next question came out whispered, laced with a small wobble in her tone. “Why didn’t you just trust me with the truth?”

“I do trust you,” Zeke replied definitively. There was no hesitation, and yet, there was a small trace of uncertainty as to why he did in the first place. There was no doubt; she was the first and only person after Tom Ksaver that had managed to gain his trust, but he was unsure if he genuinely trusted her, or if it’s because he knew she wouldn’t say anything to anyone about what she witnessed between him and Eren that day, because–

Because…

Alarm flashed in Zeke’s eyes just for a moment as he felt something in his chest constrict. Like a python, the feeling wrapped around his rib cage, squeezing to suffocate the vital organs that were held within. Denial could no longer keep him safe, not when it was staring him in the face. He knew he had to finish his thought. Pieck wouldn’t say anything to anyone about what she witnessed between him and Eren that day because she was in love with him. Her whistleblowing would be his downfall, and her reaction as they retreated from Shinganshina confirmed it. How angry she was at his apathy towards his own self-preservation. In the moment, it reminded him of his father, but he could now tell the difference. Grisha was upset for the cause. Pieck was upset for him.

They had an agreement. They would never title what they had. They would never broadcast it in public. They would never progress from anything more than a secret romance. They agreed only to simply care for the other in whatever time they had. These amendments were necessary to stray off idealistic feelings from adding to the pain that is reality. The python around Zeke’s chest finished him off, cracking his ribs into a freefall of despair. They had an agreement… and Pieck broke it. She fell in love with him, someone who was completely undeserving of it, and he couldn’t even tell her how foolish it was. After all, he was not the prince in the fairytale; he was the witch, and such characters do not get happy endings.

The woman before him sighed, as if still unsatisfied with his answers. “All right. If you say so…” Moving from her knees, Pieck rested her head on Zeke’s chest, doing her best to wrap herself around his still-regenerating frame. She could feel him move what he was able to try and accommodate for her. The steam mingled with the smoke of the cigarette as she allowed Zeke to take another hit, closing her eyes against the barrage to her senses to find Zeke’s steady heartbeat. She knew this was presumably one of the last guaranteed moments they would have together for a while, and Pieck wanted to take full advantage of the respite.

Thum-thump. Thum-thump.

“...I would hope after all of this time, you knew that you could.”

“I know, Pieck. I know,” Zeke whispered softly in return, not wanting to stir her. He took a deep breath as a means to switch the tone of their interaction, watching her rise and fall on his chest. He was able to veer her off of her pursuit, but it was only a matter of time before her suspicions grew larger. Once back in Marley, he had to be extra careful. No mistakes. No miscalculations. He had to execute every future move perfectly so as to not draw her attention. Unbeknownst to her, the maneuvering equipment he looted off of that one devil soldier rested carefully within a small wooden box under his bed. The Warriors of Marley may be coming home empty handed, but he wasn’t. The sun still had its own shadows.

Chapter Text

The early afternoon sun warmed Pieck as she slowly walked alone through the streets of Liberio. There was so much that she had missed about her hometown. She missed the smell of the air, the look of the gray stone buildings and mismatched bricks, and the sound of her people going about their daily lives. 

Although she wouldn’t allow her features to betray it, she felt excited. It had been a little over three weeks since she had seen her father. Before her departure, he had a small cold. For most, it was nothing to worry about, but Pieck had known better and asked for correspondence from the Marleyan doctors who were in charge of his care. Thankfully, those messages had all been either neutral with a lack of change, or positive. She couldn’t wait to hug him again.

There was a lot to look forward to: her childhood home, her own comfortable bed in the barracks, the continuation of the newest book she had been reading, a cup of her favorite brand of coffee, and…

And him.

It had been nine months since she had seen him. Nine long months.

A lot had happened in that time since their failure at Shinganshina. After their return and a small reprieve from duty, the Marleyans had turned their sights toward a new threat. Word had spread through the world’s newspapers of their failure on the island of Paradis. With Marley’s military severely weakened by the loss of both the Colossal and Female Titans, some countries took the opportunity to strike while Marley was licking their wounds, thus marking the beginnings of a potential war. In order to combat this perceived weakness, the Warrior Unit was put back to work, but with an adjusted arrangement.

The Warchief had been paired with the rescued Reiner Braun. Given their very obvious pairing of the best offense and the best defense, the public had started referring to the duo as the Sword and Shield of Marley. Meanwhile, closer to home, Marcel’s younger brother, Porco, had inherited the Jaw Titan. With his slightly more risk-taking personality, they paired him with Pieck to balance him out. The military leaders also thought that she was the perfect, patient partner to train him as quickly and efficiently as possible.

But Marley had seen the conflict with the Mid-East Alliance escalating. That called for a stronger, more united plan of attack. So they called back the Warrior unit from their spread out locales. She and Porco had gotten off of the train that very morning, unpacking their few belongings before making plans to meet up with the rest of their unit later in the day. Pieck had wanted time to walk around with her own thoughts before she saw Zeke.

She wondered how he had possibly changed. Would his hair be shorter or longer than the last time? Would he still have his facial hair? Perhaps he would have cleaned it up by now. Pieck couldn’t help but giggle at the memory of Zeke’s unkempt beard and hair from Paradis. She had liked the look of the beard, but the scraggly nature of it had aged Zeke a decade or so in her opinion. Therefore, she had thought it only appropriate to continue lightly teasing him about it in private every chance she had.

As Pieck traveled through one of many dusty plazas within Liberio, her tired eyes suddenly caught a glimpse of Zeke, much to her surprise. Wearing the tan Warrior uniform adorned with his War Chief regalia and silver glasses, he was unmistakable, though he had cleaned up both his hair and beard since Pieck had last seen him. Seeing him frequent the outdoor seating area of a café wasn’t out of the ordinary, but seeing him accompanied by another woman was.

Pieck’s breath hitched as she reversed her steps, ducking back behind the street corner so as to not bring attention to herself. She almost wanted to leave, but willed herself to peer around the edge of the stone building in order to see who had Zeke’s attention. She was blonde, and although she was sitting, Pieck could tell that she was incredibly tall, possibly even taller than Zeke. Her hair was chopped short and blunted, which only accentuated her sharp features. She must have been a part of the military, as she wore what was the standard white uniform of a Marleyan soldier. The thought of this being just a professional encounter had crossed her mind, though that thought was quickly tossed aside due to the lack of one very important detail; she wasn’t wearing an Eldian armband. She was Marleyan. She was a Marleyan woman meeting with an Eldian man, in public, in an Eldian district. 

A million questions raced through Pieck’s mind. Each time her brain tried to make an emotional jump to conclusions, she firmly shut that train of thought down. If she wanted to know who this woman was, or where she had come from, or how the two of them had been introduced, all she had to do was walk out of her alley and ask.

But who is she to Ze-

No. Pieck would not let the insecurities of her past pre-teen self resurface like this. Pieck was a Warrior now. She was confident in herself and no woman, not even a Marleyan, would ever make her feel like she had all of those years ago. Pieck took a breath, straightened her uniform, and decided to walk out into the square.

“War Chief,” Pieck interrupted from behind him, “I didn’t realize that we were meeting at a café.”

The mere sound of her voice caused Zeke to instinctively turn around to face her, instantly recognizing the cadence of her speech. “Pieck,” he began as he rose from his seat, the metal chair scraping against the cobblestone beneath him. The male adjusted his glasses, masking his face for just the slightest of moments in order to regain his composure, though his initial tone of voice exposed his surprise. He cleared his throat before continuing. “What a coincidence, I was just getting ready to depart for headquarters myself. We can head over together.” Zeke then gestured over to his female guest, “This is Yelena. She is one of the soldiers assigned to the first survey ship over to Paradis. Yelena, this is Pieck Finger of the Warrior Unit, bearer of the Cart Titan.”

At the mention of her name, Yelena also stood up from her seat, fully demonstrating just how tall she was. She was taller than Zeke, causing Pieck to have to crane her neck even more so than usual. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Pieck,” Yelena spoke behind a papier-mâché smile, giving the other woman a small bow of her head in greeting. 

Pieck copied the lack of sincerity in the other woman’s salutation, a facsimile of a smile spreading over her features. “And a pleasure to meet you as well. What an honor it is to meet a Marleyan soldier, especially one chosen to go to Paradis. You must be very excited to see and experience the island of devils yourself. It’s sure to be quite the… historic voyage.”

“I am only doing my part to protect and bolster Marley’s peace and prosperity from those who wish to harm it,” Yelena responded, reaching for her coffee cup on the table in order to empty it with a few final sips. “But I don’t wish to have to stay in Eldian territory any longer than I need to, so let me finish what I came here to do.” She set down her cup before reaching into the inner breast pocket of her military jacket, then extended her arm across the table to hand Zeke a folded up piece of parchment. “On behalf of my former squadron, War Chief, we wanted to recognize you with a certificate of merit for your service to Marley on the naval front.”

“I am most gracious for your consideration,”  Zeke replied rather formally, accepting the document with a respectable bow. Without saying another word or even giving Pieck another glance, Yelena departed from the square in the direction of the main entry gate to Liberio.

Hm. Her retreat was quicker than I expected , Pieck mused. There was something about this woman that left Pieck feeling uneasy. Was it something in her eyes, her stare? Or had it been her smile? The Warriors were used to false praises given to them by Marleyan soldiers, but this had seemed different, something Pieck couldn’t put her finger on.

Pieck’s eyes flickered over to the blond beside her, analyzing every detail of his expression as the other woman left.

Zeke’s eyes did not linger on Yelena’s retreating figure for long, not wanting to continue to raise Pieck’s suspicions. He turned to her, tilting his head down to rest his gaze upon her smaller figure. “It’s good to see you,” he paused, only for his gray eyes to study her further. “Your hair has gotten much longer since I saw you last.” He reached into his back pocket in order to leave a few folded-up notes to pay for the bill. “It suits you.”

“Thank you,” she answered, quelling how much his compliment pleased her. “And you, too. Your hair is much shorter now.” Pieck reached up to affectionately flick the tips of his bangs. “And your beard gives your face an actual shape now. I’ll have to thank your barber personally,” she murmured with a light laugh, her eyes alight and teasing.

“Well, I need to exhibit an air of authority now within the presence of newer candidates. The beard makes me look older.” Zeke flashed her a small smirk before gesturing for her to lead the way. “Though I’m surprised; I would have thought you’d prefer me clean shaven.”

As the two of them began their walk down the streets to headquarters, Pieck spoke again. “So. How did the two of you meet?” she asked, nodding her head in the general direction of where the blonde woman had gone. “She mentioned something about the naval fleet. I wasn’t aware that you had joined the navy.”

Zeke expected this line of questioning to start ever since leaving the café. Fortunately for him, everything he was about to say to her was completely truthful, though that did not stop him from reaching into his jacket pocket to grab his cigarette case, opening the lid with a flick of his wrist. “And leave the Warrior Unit? Certainly not.” He grabbed one of the rolled-up, packed pieces of white paper, placing the filter in between his lips. “Reiner and I were stationed to assist in dismantling the Mid-East’s naval blockade. During one particular skirmish, one of our ships sank, and those men would have been sitting ducks in their rowboats if it wasn’t for my intervention,” the blond paused, lighting the tip of his cigarette. “Yelena was one of those soldiers.”  He took a long draw before exhaling the smoke into the air above him. “The certificate of merit was an unexpected gesture, and as an Eldian, one I shouldn’t refuse.” His words were far more weighted than he let on, for Zeke knew that within the document that was tucked away safely to his chest, there was a hidden code that detailed updates to the final stages of his plan to not only re-establish communication with Paradis, but more importantly, Eren.

Zeke saw Pieck’s eyes take note of the cigarette before she replied, all without turning her attention to the pathway in front of her.

“Mmm, so then she and her unit owe you their lives.”

Pieck silently wondered how that must feel to the Marleyan soldiers: owing the continuation of their lives to the intervention of a lowly Eldian, Titan or not. Adding insult to injury, she was then requested to go thank the Eldian in person? You would have thought that she would have left quickly, not sat down with the Chief of the Warrior Unit for a cup of coffee. Especially, Pieck thought, if she wanted to get out of Eldian territory as soon as possible.

“How kind it was of her to deliver it herself.” Pieck’s voice replied nonchalantly. Zeke wasn’t the only one who was good at hiding things. Pieck decided to switch the topic to a lighter one as they drew closer to their meeting place.

“Everyone is so excited for us to be back together again, even some of the cadets. It feels like it’s been ages since we’ve just gotten to sit down and talk. He won’t admit it, but Pock is so excited to see you that he woke up extra early this morning to make himself look presentable!” she confided, a jovial laugh escaping her lips.

“‘Pock?’ Ah, Porco, you mean,” Zeke answered his own question, holding the cigarette in between his fingers as they walked. That’s new , he thought. He could only assume that the two of them had gotten closer since being stationed together for close to a year now. “That’s surprising,” the War Chief admitted out loud. While it was true that Zeke had spent quite a bit of time over the years with Porco while the rest were off on the Paradis mission, he knew that Porco looked up to and respected him in a way, but he had never considered himself so important to the younger man. After all, the most important older male figure in his life was…

“How is Porco doing, by the way?” Zeke asked quietly, bringing his cigarette to his lips once again to inhale another puff of smoke. 

Zeke watched as Pieck’s previously happy smile became muted. Her eyes fell to stare at the pavement. “Strategically, or emotionally?” She asked, already knowing his answer. “About as well as you would expect. After all…”

Pieck could still see it all, like snapshots within a slide projector that she advanced with a button. She could see them landing, the unmistakable combination of blonde and brown shaved hair standing on the pier. Click. Then she was disembarking from the ship, Porco’s eyebrows lifted, his smile expectant. She could see how he kept looking at the landing dock, even once everyone had disembarked. Click . Elation morphed slowly into confusion. That was when Pieck had known. With that final look to Zeke, she had taken a breath of courage and left his side to approach Porco. Click .

Despite her eyes still looking at the gray Eldian asphalt, she could still see the younger Warrior’s face like a watermark over her vision. It had started with denial, thinking it was some sick joke. Disbelief had turned to anger, his heavy combat books stomping on the wooden dock to attempt to move around her. Then later, much later, when he had broken down, sobbing, away from the eyes of everyone else but her.

“... He lost his brother…”

Her voice was only a whisper as Zeke discarded the cigarette butt onto the cobblestone road. “Understandable,” he replied quietly, stomping it out with his boot. He could only hope, if all goes well, that he got the opportunity to see his own brother again. “Then perhaps it is wise to keep him and Vice Chief Braun separated for the duration of the meeting? I don’t need any pent-up emotions painting a bad picture of how I run my unit to the top brass.” Though the move was made a few months ago, Reiner’s new title still sounded foreign to Zeke. It was one that Marcel held previously, and now that he was gone, it was appointed to Reiner. He could understand Porco’s resentment, especially since Zeke too disagreed with the decision, although he would keep his opinions to himself.

“They will be seated accordingly, War Chief,” his subordinate saluted with a small, impish smile as they ascended the front stairway to their destination. Pieck opened the door, gesturing for the Beast to go in before her. Her playful, easy nature with Zeke locked itself away within the capricious gaze of headquarters. ”I’ll be sure to keep my partner in line if you do the same with yours?”

The question caused Zeke to come to a halt, his frame frozen beside hers just in front of the doorway. He could feel his jaw clench, though he was uncertain as to why. He knew without a doubt that she meant professionally and that should not have bothered him. It had yet to cross his mind until now, but perhaps it was because he had always been her partner ever since she inherited the Cart. It was a title that only he held previously and due to their failure– no, his failure– on the Paradis mission, it had been stripped from him. 

“I don’t think it’s my partner we have to worry about,” the War Chief quietly replied after only a moment of pause, finally crossing over the threshold.

Zeke heard Pieck’s quiet laugh, despite the ducking of her head to suppress it. “No, you’re right. It’s certainly mine.”

The two continued through the main hallway, and down a side corridor. Just as they neared the door, Zeke felt a small tug on his sleeve, barely noticeable. Besides the two of them, the hallway was empty. “This evening,” Pieck started, “ would you want to get together? To catch up, I mean. I’m really quite interested in hearing what you’ve been up to all this time.” As Pieck gazed upwards at him, the lights above reflected in her dark eyes, revealing a hidden warmth of cocoa brown.

Zeke cautiously looked up and down the hallway. He already knew that they were alone, but needed to buy himself more time to think of a suitable answer. It had to be something that realistically could be scheduled in the evening, so a double military meeting was out of the question. His grandfather was recently admitted as a permanent resident of the assisted living wing of the hospital, but using that excuse may result in some follow-up questions. His many years of preparation toward his euthanisa plan was like a game of Blackjack, a one-on-one gamble where he was the player and Marley was the dealer, his lone opponent. Because of this, all other players at the table posed no threat to his winnings. All except one. And although Pieck wasn’t exactly playing against him, she was perceptive enough to alert the house that he was counting cards.

“They actually have me scheduled for a spinal tap this evening. They haven’t been able to collect recently since I’ve been on active duty. But now that I’m back at base, they sure aren’t wasting any time,” he explained, emphasized by a subtle eye roll that only Pieck could see. He reached for the doorknob, only for his hand to hesitate. “But, I could meet you afterwards at the barracks? I should be back by ten.”

A contained, yet eager hope replaced the disappointment held in Pieck’s eyes. “The barracks. Ten o’clock. I’ll be looking forward to it, War Chief.” With a new appointment on her agenda, and the smallest of smiles on her lips, Pieck reached forward and opened the door for them both, allowing the meeting to begin.

. . .

Hours later, Pieck had emerged from the confines of the stuffy war room. She softly excused herself from the growing environment of business small talk to go visit with her father.

Thankfully, it seemed that his earlier cold had improved in the last few days. It had been enough for the medical staff to allow Mr. Finger to move back to his regular place of residence. Pieck’s shoulders had finally relaxed as her father grinned up at her from his sofa. She could hear the bubbling of the tea kettle that the in-home nurse had put on. It finally felt like home .

As usual, her father was filled with questions about her thrilling life as a Warrior while she was overseas. She told him as much as she was able to say to a civilian which, as always, he understood. After the pleasant reunion, Pieck had departed and gotten herself a late dinner. She took her time enjoying her meal, relishing in every delicious bite as she people-watched. But even after all of that delaying, it was still only half past eight.

She figured that Zeke would still be in the middle of his procedure, but Pieck was fully capable of going to the research lab on her own. Her plan was to wait in the cooling evening air outside of the medical facility until Zeke was finished. She knew that he tended to be slightly sore after a spinal tap, so she could assist him in walking back to the barracks together.

Of course, Pieck also had a secondary motive. It was a little selfish of her, but she wanted to spend as much time with Zeke as possible. The way that they had left one another’s company all of those months ago had been… awkward. They certainly hadn’t avoided spending time together, but their stolen moments together felt stifled. A wall had been erected between them, a wall that had always been there but Pieck had never seen. After finding out about the secrets that Zeke had been keeping from her, completely disillusioned from the Boy Wonder persona, she, too, had withdrawn some of her openness from him.

But now, she hoped that they had enough time to change that. After all, she had so many questions about his time away. To her knowledge, the Beast Titan had rarely been used in naval combat. She wondered what role that he had played. Was he back on the shore, throwing rocks at enemy ships? Or did they actually have him out on the water?

It was from those curious thoughts that Pieck was snapped out of as she rounded the final corner to the hospital plaza. For the second time that day, Pieck quickly reversed her steps, hiding herself in the shadow of a nearby building.

Highlighted in the fading lights of the summer day, was her very own War Chief. Pieck’s eyebrows rose. Her body felt frozen, stuck to the brick below. He had told her that he wasn’t available until ten. Was it that he hadn’t wanted to see her? Pieck dismissed that thought; he hadn’t given her any other evidence to support that theory.  Her slender brows furrowed as a memory resurfaced.

“Why didn’t you just trust me with the truth?”

“I do trust you,” Zeke replied definitively. 

It was as if the floor fell out from under her, something dark, unknown, and wriggling pulled her downwards. Another omission. No, she would call it what it was. 

A lie.

She watched Zeke casually take a cigarette out of his pocket, using the pause of lighting it to look either way. Pieck smirked from her hiding place; she still knew some of his tells. After taking a few puffs, Zeke started to walk down an adjacent street in the opposite direction of the barracks.

As Zeke turned away from the fading light of the sun, his second silent shadow followed after.

With each street block that she trailed behind him, a pit grew bigger and bigger in her stomach. Every time she expected him to turn off, he kept heading straight, all the way up to the border of the Liberio district.

He’s leaving? Pieck furrowed her eyebrows. Where could he possibly be going at this hour outside of the internment zone?

She cursed under her breath; she knew she would have to allow the gap in distance to grow between them if she didn’t want to call attention to her also leaving Liberio while he was within earshot.

So she waited, and even when she felt like it was enough, she waited some more, until she safely exited the district border without detection by the Beast. Pieck followed him silently and stealthily until he seemingly arrived at his destination, an old warehouse by the docks.

The bearer of the Cart Titan kept out of sight, hiding behind a bunch of crates as she followed him around to the back of the building. Whatever pit was gradually forming in the center of her stomach morphed into a deep, relentless sinkhole.

Zeke was meeting with that woman.

Yelena.

She watched, gripping onto the rough splintery wood of the crate as he took one final drag of his cigarette before throwing it into the ocean water. The War Chief reached into his pocket, handing Yelena a folded up piece of paper. As she reviewed the document, they exchanged a small conversation that was impossible to overhear. Yelena excused herself, heading into an open back doorway of the warehouse, while Zeke hovered outside and out of view. As the male turned to rest his back against the metal walls of the building, Pieck willed herself to move through the quicksand, practically diving behind the stack of boxes to avoid being seen.

The raven-haired woman took a few steadying breaths to get her wits about her. Once again, she willed her weighted legs to move, forcing herself to go around to the front of the warehouse. She had to know what was going on; she refused to allow her brain to run wild with guesses. Hoping she wouldn’t regret this move, she slipped her armband off, hiding it in her pocket in order to slip into the building undetected.

Pieck was surprised to see that there was a crowd already gathered, all wearing Marleyan soldier uniforms. Luckily, she could use her height to her advantage, knowing there was no way she would be seen while in the very back.

“Marley is growing arrogant. It is trampling down surrounding countries, just like the former Eldian Empire, while becoming addicted to the power of the titans,” a voice rang out from the other side of the room. Pieck instantly recognized the voice, it belonged to Yelena. She moved in order to peer between others gathered in the crowd.

“Our motherland has been taken away from us,” Yelena continued, causing several in the assembly to nod and murmur in agreement.

“This said, we can’t leave it like that. We have the union and the opportunity necessary to overthrow Marley.”

The shock was worse than electricity. Overthrow Marley? What this woman was saying, what these Marleyans were nodding in agreement to, was absolute treason. The Eldian people had years of education drilled into them from birth: praise Marley, and be grateful to Marley for allowing you to make up for the sins of your ancestors. While Pieck had never held any true love for the country she lived in, the country that had historically abused her and her people, she couldn’t help the pang of Stockholmesque resentment that instinctively rose up in her.

But there was no possible way. He couldn’t be involved in this; he must be spying on them. It had to be a front, the jury was still out–

“In order to defeat Marley, we will use the titans, but what is abominable isn’t the power of the titans. It’s rather the weakness of those who let themselves be swallowed up in it.”

The gavel in her mind fell with a resounding slam. As the group around her grew more boisterous and spirited at Yelena’s continuing speech, Pieck ducked her way through the crowd. The room was too warm, her head started to spin, the joyous smiles on the men’s faces around her turning into macabre, mocking grins.

The bearer of the Cart Titan hurried out of the warehouse, falling back against a nearby wall. She gasped in relief as the cool evening air allowed her to breathe, and more importantly, to think. That all but confirmed it. Zeke was involved in Yelena’s plan, in one way or another. There was a possibility that Yelena was using Zeke for his power, like a tool as so many had done before her, but Zeke’s presence disproved that theory. Her shaking hands grasped at the collar of her shirt. The release of a button allowed her to breathe easier, but nothing could alleviate the tightness forming around her racing heart.

How could he? Another exclusion, another lie. He had to have a reason for doing this, for sentencing himself to death if his involvement was discovered. He had to have some reason why he didn’t tell her.

“I do trust you.” The words rang again in her mind.

Pieck grit her teeth and looked down at her watch. It was nearing nine-thirty, and if Pieck was going to keep her own presence a secret, she would have to leave before him. Needing to confirm it for her eyes once more, Pieck crept along the wall of the warehouse back to her window. There he was, still standing against the wall, his expression indiscernible, even to her.

Well, she thought, I could play the game, too.

Backing away from the warehouse of unwanted truths, Pieck turned and hurried her way into the night. She had to reach the border as soon as possible. After all, Pieck Finger had thirty minutes to put on her most convincing poker face, for she was now playing against the best card shark in the whole casino.

Chapter Text

Zeke looked down at the tiny bundle of paper slips in his hand, studying the small shopping list that was on top of two or three prescriptions. Fresh from arriving back to his hometown of Liberio the night before, he was determined to help his grandmother with her errands. After his grandfather was moved into assisted living, she lived on her own in the Yeager family home. Getting shopping trips accomplished was quite difficult and time-consuming in her old age, so Zeke always volunteered to go in her stead whenever he was in town.

Over the course of the war, the Warrior Unit was granted a short leave every six months. Those six months, however, were never at the same time for all four of them, but rotated based upon their sub-units. When Zeke and Reiner had a fortnight of respite, Pieck and Porco would still be on the battlefield, and vice-versa. The Warriors of Marley had to be a constant, present threat for their opposition, and therefore, could never be inactive all at the same time.

Now a couple months into the second year of the Mid-East War, it was time for the Warrior Unit to reconvene to discuss and review strategy with the Marleyan military. The War Chief found it hard to believe that he hadn’t seen Pieck in a year. It hadn’t felt that long, but it was common for the years to fly by during one’s third act of life, wasn’t it? 

The tiny bell above the door rang out as Zeke stepped inside the pharmacy. The blond thought he would fill the prescriptions first before going through the rest of the list, as that would take the longest. He came to a sudden halt as he rounded the aisle corner; standing at the pharmacy counter were Porco and Pieck. He debated on sneaking up on them in a comical way to startle them, though the many sneak attack tactics that ran through his mind suddenly came to halt as he observed what happened next.

The pharmacist counted out exactly four prescription bottles before putting them in a bag to hand to Pieck. Porco then offered to hold the bag for her, which she graciously accepted. They exchanged a few quiet words that only the two of them could hear, resulting in a shared chuckle out of the both of them. As the pair turned around to leave, Zeke ducked back behind the adjacent aisle. He had assumed they were both picking up something for themselves, but Porco didn’t get anything for himself. Pieck, instead, was picking up her father’s medication. He knew this because he knew Mr. Finger had always had four monthly medications. He knew this because Zeke knew Pieck better than anyone… 

or so he thought.

Pieck was fully capable of running this errand alone, and Porco didn’t even get anything, so why did he accompany her? More importantly, why did it bother him so much? 

Zeke finished at the pharmacy and dropped the items at his grandmother’s home without incident. On his walk back to the barracks, he contemplated how he wanted to spend his evening. The Beast’s route, however, was once again interrupted by the Cart and the Jaw. The pair were only a few yards ahead of Zeke, but it was enough distance to allow him to once again go unnoticed. Porco’s former load of a singular medication bag was now replaced by several bags of groceries. He struggled to carry them all as he walked by Pieck’s side, the latter’s hands completely free of burden. They had dropped off her father’s prescriptions and then went grocery shopping. Zeke lingered at the gate as the pair ascended the steps, and despite having so many things in his hands, Porco still managed to open the door for Pieck. As she walked through, she didn’t waste the opportunity to playfully bump into him, causing him to jostle the bags of food within his arms. The War Chief felt a sudden constriction in his chest while his ears heard the fading echoes of Porco’s yelling and Pieck’s laughter. As his back pressed against the cold iron fence, the taste in his mouth soured. He hadn’t felt this particular feeling in at least a year. Back then, he didn’t name it at the time, but he sure could name it now.

Jealousy.

He was jealous.

Zeke Yeager was never jealous. He just wasn’t wired for it. Any man could attempt to flirt or touch or get close with Pieck and it wouldn’t bother him. It wouldn’t bother him because he knew Pieck wouldn’t be interested. They had to have a certain wit and a keen intellect to go toe-to-toe with her, otherwise she’d get bored.  He was confident that he was and has always been at the top of the totem pole for Pieck’s affections.

Yet it was these simple, mundane acts of domesticity that completely unraveled him–because it was something he knew he could never have with Pieck. It was a path that the both of them could never walk together, or at least he couldn’t, not with her. Zeke Yeager was born into this miserable world with the singular purpose of ending the suffering of the Eldian people. He had one path, and one path only, and that path would never cross with another.

The jealousy was soon accompanied by fear, a fear of abandonment. It was the worst of all feelings, and he had felt it all throughout his life–when he failed each and every warrior candidate test, when his parents kept him up at night arguing over how much of a disappointment he was, when Mr. Ksaver had to leave him, and when he discovered that father had sired a replacement son. Now here it was, creeping in again like mist under the crack of a doorway, and he wouldn’t allow it. 

Finally going inside the barracks, the War Chief decided that he had to change the trajectory of his mindset, that he needed things back in his control. So he went to his suite, and waited approximately an hour so as to not look suspicious, before marching down the hallway to knock on Pieck’s door.

It only took a few moments for the door to open. He could hear her familiar cashmere voice before he saw her. She started speaking as soon as the door cracked open, as if expecting someone.

“I knew it. What did you forget this time, Pock–oh.”

Wide-eyed, Pieck stared up at him with surprise, her eyes having to dart approximately four inches higher than expected. Over the past few years, Zeke had grown accustomed to a degree of open happiness from her when she looked at him. But this time, he couldn’t read those same clues from her features. Instead, he primarily saw confusion and shock.

“Zeke–” The name slipped from her lips. He didn’t know why he seemed to be analyzing every microexpression from her; he never actively had to. Not with her. Pieck straightened her posture, growing more formal as she carefully looked around them for any observers. “–Warchief. Did you need something?”

The reason for Pieck’s confusion suddenly hit him. It was like the smack of a baseball in the palm of his glove, instead of the cushioned web, forceful and stinging. Zeke didn’t remember the last time, if ever, that he had knocked on her door. 

It was her who came to find him after training, ready to discuss strategy. It was her who came to check up on him after one of his doctor’s appointments. It was her who found him after a meeting or even a battle, ready to comfort or distract him, whatever he needed her to be. In addition, it was his room that she came to during their stolen moonlit trysts. Pieck had knocked on his door countless times, but he had never knocked on hers.

Despite rationalizing through why Pieck assumed him to be Porco, his mind got stuck on two particular words of her sentence– this time. That implied that Galliard had spent time in Pieck’s room on more than one occasion. The two words repeatedly stung in his ears like thorny briars, and despite trying to push past it, they still scratched at him.

“You look as if you’ve seen a ghost,” Zeke replied initially, a comical start to his speech in order to mask the underlying emotions that he did not like. “I was wondering if you’d like to accompany me to dinner tonight.” He paused to eye her up and down, growing wary as to why she hadn’t fully opened the door yet. “ If you are available, that is.”

His question caused a slender eyebrow to raise, but the ordinariness of the request changed her. The wariness and reserved manner from before warmed up before his very eyes, like sun over a morning frost.

“I’d love to go to dinner with you,” Pieck replied with an amused chuckle. She opened the door further, unknowingly revealing the empty nature of her living quarters and answering Zeke’s intrusive worries. Arms crossed, the raven-haired woman leaned her shoulder against the doorframe, her starched uniform unable to hide the enticing curve of her hip. “But why the stiff decorum?”

“Well good… because I already took the liberty of making a reservation,” Zeke replied, hoping that his statement also answered her question. He had been busy over the past hour, needing something to occupy his mind while he waited to knock on her door. “There’s a restaurant that opened up outside of the Liberio district while I was here last on leave.” His gray eyes then glanced up and down her frame, surveying her figure. “Though it would probably be best if we didn’t attend in our military uniforms. I don’t wish to draw any further attention to ourselves.”

Pieck’s warm gaze seemed to search his expression for any sign of a joke. Zeke was well aware that neither one of them had ever made something as formal as a reservation to eat together. Rather than planned, their past meals were usually taken together if possible. It was a common understanding between them, however the years of war and separation had allowed that freedom less and less. A reservation would be closer to a formal dinner, which would be closer to something like a date. And they had mutually and silently agreed not to name what they were to one another.

Finally, Pieck seemed satisfied with her analysis and shrugged. “Well. I better go change, then.” With a swift glance around, the bearer of the Cart Titan opened the door fully, inviting him inside to her room. He had only been in here maybe two or three times before, as there was more space in Zeke’s suite, not to mention his couch that practically belonged to her at this point.

The room was smaller than his, as to be expected. But she had done wonders with the small space to make it cozy and inviting for herself. As Pieck walked slowly with cat-like grace to her armoire, Zeke took the rest of the room in. Her bed was made with the precision of a soldier, but pieces of the rest of the room were another story. It wasn’t messy or cluttered, per say. But it was easy to see where the most lived-in spaces were. He spotted a book tossed onto the seat of a faded blue reading chair, a quilted blanket hastily tossed off at the sound of his knock. A nearly finished cup of coffee waited on a petite side table, giving him clues as to what she had been up to for the past hour.

“They have patio seating, so be sure to bring something in case you get cold,” Zeke suggested, crossing the room over to her reading chair. The blond picked up the book as he waited for her, skimming through the pages before ultimately placing her bookmark into it. He didn’t want her losing her place on his account. Setting the book onto the nearby table, he sat in the chair before glancing at his watch, noting how much time they had before they needed to depart.

The young woman flipped through the outfits in her closet as she spoke, flashing him a small smirk now that they were alone. “Of course, your sweater wouldn’t be available, would it?” she questioned rhetorically, knowing the obvious answer. “What’s the special occasion? It’s not either of our birthdays, after all.”

Pieck finally landed on her outfit: a dark olive green skirt that would hit mid-calf and a light beige blouse with a delicate Peter Pan-collar. His reminder of the evening temperature resulted in a muted, light lilac sweater.

As she walked by him to go into the bathroom, Zeke huffed at the mention of his chocolate brown cardigan that he was wearing. “Is the fact that we are on leave at the same time not special enough?” He paused during his explanation, only to notice that Pieck had left the bathroom door open just a crack. From his small vantage point, he watched as her military grade button-up shirt hit the tile floor, followed by her dark red skirt. It instantly reminded him of their first very night together, to which he had to shake from his mind and avert his gaze to continue his statement. “I’m not sure if you realized, but I haven’t seen you in almost a year.”

Zeke could hear a light chuckle come from the powder room, but his keen ears could also detect the undercurrent beneath. There was something slightly poignant about her laugh, like a bittersweet dark chocolate added to a smooth latte, flavoring it with a complexity that perplexed him. “Has it really been that long?”

Surprised by her question, the blond turned his attention back to the door. Had he been the only one keeping track of the weeks away? His glance towards her rewarded him with another secretive image. The nape of her neck was revealed as she exchanged one blouse for another. His eyes couldn’t help but add the imagined watermark of past love bites along the light olive skin of her neck and shoulders, until it was abruptly covered up by her blouse.

“Time is strange,” she continued, “I feel like we’ve been so busy, so the days have been flying by… but it also feels like I haven’t really been with you… in quite a while…” The door opened, revealing the charming change in her attire. Her espresso eyes were locked on him as she stepped closer. There was a tilt of her head that he had seen time and time again, a look so analytical and reserved that he hadn’t seen directed towards him in years.

Zeke cleared his throat, his self-reminder to stand up. He stood in front of her, eyeing her through the glint of his glasses, silently pleased to be on the receiving end of her undivided attention once again. The blond reached for the door, the click of the knob breaking the silence between them as he swung the door open.

“After you, Piecky,” he offered, gesturing with his free hand for her to proceed. It was a nickname that he hadn’t uttered since the start of the war, sitting unused and dormant until now. The pairing of her smile and the light blush that spread from her cheeks and down her neck was better than any meal with wine he had ever savored.

“Such a gentleman,” she murmured as she passed by.

Their walk outside of the Liberio district was quiet and uneventful. Unlike years ago, the both of them had an easy time leaving through the security checkpoint, the guards getting used to their names and faces over the years. The War Chief’s hypothesis ended up being correct; they received far less glances when dressed down, and for the most part, Marleyans didn’t stare at them long enough to recognize them. Keeping his hands in his pockets, the blond led them down a few blocks before stopping in front of their destination.

“Here we are,” he announced, gesturing toward the store front. It was a small portion of the street block with unfinished brick and large windows that opened fully to allow for flow from the seating within. A decorative, wrought-iron balcony marked the middle between the first and second story and held the restaurant’s name, Pérola do Mar. The cursive letters were illuminated in a bright green, as if they were written with a pipe full of lightning. It was something the two had never seen before, and something like it certainly didn’t exist in Liberio. Pieck looked up in quiet awe, wondering what the substance was called as Zeke spoke with the host. Getting her attention, she followed Zeke and the host and they were led through the indoor portion of the restaurant, only to leave out the backdoor. She wondered if they were put back here on purpose, extra makeshift seating so as to not disturb the Marleyan patrons, but she could not have been happier to be more wrong.

As they stepped outside, her shoes sunk into the soft, crunchy sand below. The outdoor patio in the back was engineered to simulate a beach, complete with wooden tables, chairs, and heat lamps. The host placed them at a table for two in the corner, to which Zeke offered Pieck the first pick of chairs.

As Pieck took the corner-facing seat, allowing Zeke to look out at the room around them, she picked up her menu. The dark-haired woman looked down at the folded piece of paper, but took a pause as she realized that she was strangely unable to read the majority of the selections. It wasn’t as if the font was difficult to read and Pieck, like every Warrior candidate, had studied a variety of world languages. Although the alphabet appeared to be the same as her own, the page was dotted with dashes, curls, and small extra lines over and under the letters. Pieck was considering that it was a printing error until she noticed that their placements were consistent.

“I’ve never seen a language quite like this,” Pieck murmured under her breath. “Are you able to read any of it? I couldn’t even read that glowing sign outside.”

“Yes, but only because I studied the menu ahead of time.” 

Pieck rolled her eyes. “Cheater.”

Zeke chuckled as he looked up from the menu to catch her eyes. “This restaurant offers the cuisine of Orudo–a country that is all the way across the western sea. It’s the first of its kind on Marleyan soil, and since its homeland is not a place we’d ever get to visit, I thought it’d be interesting to try at least once.”

“Hm.” Despite her lack of verbal response, Zeke could tell that she was pleased. “Well, I am all for new, unique experiences.” Her eyes drifted over towards the doorway back to the restaurant before darting competitively to him once more. “Bets on how long it takes for the waiter to greet us and take our drink order?”

Zeke perked up at the question. “It’s been quite some time since you’ve made a wager. Where did we last leave off? I think one-hundred-and-thirty-three to one-hundred-and-thirty-one?” He paused for a moment to consider his bet.

“Nine minutes,” he announced.

“Twelve minutes,” she countered.

The waiter came in eight minutes. Zeke won the bet, putting them nearly even.

She asked Zeke about how his Beast Titan was utilized in the naval arena during the battles. He described to her the challenges he faced, of less opportunity for fodder to throw. The water would pull and slow down his legs, causing him to compensate for the sluggish feeling. He asked her about the health of her father. To Zeke’s pleased surprise, the dark-haired woman brightened up, almost animated (for Pieck, at least) as she told him how her father had finally been improving over the past year. 

He even selfishly threw in the occasional question about Porco. He was curious to gain any insight into the nature of their relationship. With an exasperated, fond smile, Pieck explained that, since it has been so long since Porco had spent time in the classroom, he hadn’t exactly been studying. Upon being tested on the phrases required for combat strategy, Porco’s scores were less than stellar. Now that he was officially one of the bearers of the Titans, knowing Marley’s codes and tactics were incredibly important. As the brightest Warrior still on Marleyan soil, Magath had tasked Pieck with tutoring him until he would, as she quoted, “be able to recite them backwards in his sleep.”

Just as Pieck was finishing a humorous story about the acronyms Porco had created to remember certain tactical calls, Zeke was finishing his meal. He raised a hand to gain the attention of their waiter.

“Excuse me?” The blond questioned as he managed to pull their server aside, only to gesture to the drink menu in his other hand. “If we could get the check when you get a moment, as well as two hot chocolates to go, it would be very much appreciated.”

The water tried to hide a look of surprise at the order, but he nodded before departing to put in the request.

Zeke turned to see Pieck’s brow lifted in astonishment. “I’m… surprised that you even remember…” She allowed a light chuckle to escape, as if admitting to a secret. “To be perfectly honest, I haven’t been able to order one of those since, well, you know.”

“I thought we were way overdue for a do-over, but can still keep the parts that I’m fond of,” Zeke explained with a small smile. After a few moments, the server brought the check as well as two to-go cups all at once before seeing to another table. The blond’s eyes glanced at the check before reaching into his pocket for his wallet, placing a few bills onto the table to pay for the meal. “I was also thinking maybe we could go to the old alley spot? For old time’s sake?” 

Pieck looked down at the payment, wondering if she should offer to split it more evenly. But since Zeke hadn’t hesitated to pay for the entirety of the check, she decided not to insult him by asking. “Hm. Maybe we can pass by it, but I was thinking perhaps that we would try a new spot. Something with a little more of a view?” She offered before standing from the table. Pieck rolled her shoulders back in a delicate, subtle stretch, like a cat after a long midday nap.

“Lead the way,” Zeke offered, standing up from the table before accompanying Pieck out of the restaurant. He followed the smaller warrior, slowing his gait in order to walk at her pace. He wasn’t quite sure exactly where they were going, though soon realized they were heading in the general direction of the wharf. He thought that maybe she wanted to see the beach, until she suddenly made a sharp turn to go into the back alley of a shipping company building, its windows dark and empty now that it's after hours. The bearer of the Cart Titan stopped just underneath the fire escape, going up onto her tiptoes to try and reach the pulldown ladder. After a few extra unsuccessful attempts, even with some added hops on her end, Zeke finally came to her aid, grabbing on the metal rung to pull it down.

“I could have gotten it, you know,” Pieck commented with a sly tone before beginning her ascent up the ladder.

“Oh I’m sure,” Zeke replied with a smirk, following her close behind in order to spot her in case she slipped.

Once they made it to the top, they had an incredible nighttime view of the ocean, its calm waves illuminated by the bright pale light of the moon. The speckled lights from the various ships that traveled its waters made it seem like a reflection of the night sky above.

“Ah, now I see why you wanted to come up here,” Zeke mused, strolling over to rest his arms on the ledge of the roof. He held out his cup, clinking it against Pieck’s before taking a sip. “Cheers.” As soon as it hit his mouth, however, he winced, shirking the cup away from his lips. “Agh, hot!” Zeke hissed, mentally cursing at himself for seemingly never being able to learn from this particular mistake.

Pieck lifted her own drink to her lips, hiding her secret smile into her cup. Her eyes shot down to the drink as the warm beverage’s taste hit her tongue. For just that moment, Zeke could swear that her expression of surprise wiped away the world-weary fatigue that all Warriors ended up wearing.

“I didn’t know that it was going to be spicy like this… All foreign hot chocolate isn’t like this, is it?” She took another sip with satisfaction, clearly enjoying the taste.

“Now that you mention it, it does taste a little different from the very minimal amount I’ve had before.” Zeke furrowed his eyebrows, trying to pull out the individual flavors on his palette.”It’s airer, but I think there’s a hint of…cinnamon,” he stated definitively, smacking his lips for just a moment to solidify his conclusion.

They stood side-by-side in silence for a few passing moments, enjoying the formerly elusive taste before Zeke spoke up once more.

“Thank you for agreeing to come with me tonight, by the way. Especially since I’m sure you’re tired…” Zeke began as he cupped his drink with both hands, trying to find a natural segway into bringing up the subject of Porco once more. “I saw you running a couple of errands earlier today with Galliard.”

“Oh, did you?” Her lips puckered just barely into a pout. “That’s strange, I didn’t see you. Pock offered to carry my groceries when I told him that I was going shopping for my father. I told him that I didn’t need the help, and I usually would have done it myself… but I had training this morning in my titan form.” Pieck’s titan form, regardless of how long or short she was in it for, always took a toll on her limbs in the recovery period right after. “You should have come up and said hello. We would have liked the additional company.”

Zeke couldn’t help but stiffen at the nickname. He took a long, gradual sip of his drink, the warm liquid melting his tenseness as he swallowed. As he stared out into the moon-soaked waves, he determined that here and now was a better time and place than any to fish. 

“You know Porco is into you, right?” As the question left his lips, Zeke’s eyes shifted from the ocean to the woman standing beside him, hoping to be able to gauge her reaction, 

Pieck continued to gaze out over the seascape ahead, sipping her hot chocolate once more. The silence was like a heavy, weighted curtain of a theater, meant to create anticipation before some reveal. Her voice was low when she finally spoke, the soft tone seductive whether she meant it to be or not.

“Well maybe his Warchief should tell him not to have inter-unit relationships, don’t you think?”

Pieck playfully bumped the side of her hip against his, emphasizing her highly hypocritical joke. He figured that it was meant to reassure him, but it only left the question unanswered.

What may have been unexpected for Pieck, her comment was not met with a laugh, not even a slight huff from the man standing next to her. “You didn’t answer my question,” Zeke stated, gripping the cup in his hand just a little bit tighter. “I think he’s liked you for quite some time. It’s quite obvious, at least to me. You seem to enjoy his company.”

Zeke lifted his beverage to take another sip, blocking his view of the now confused expression that was painted onto Pieck’s face. Any day now, the ambassador of Hizuru, Kiyomi Azumabito, would be delivering his three-part plan to the officials of Paradis. It was a vital step toward his overall goal, and if accepted, would bring him one step closer to not only reuniting with Eren, but also accessing the full power of the Founding Titan. He knew his time in Marley, his time with her, was growing shorter, and it weighed on him far more than he cared to let on.

“He might.”

Her words were offhanded and nonchalant, as if the notion wasn’t even worth the time to ponder it. She took another sip of her drink. “But it doesn’t really matter. I enjoy his company, true, but that’s because I’ve had to. If you had to spend hours with someone, wouldn’t you try to find some common ground?” Another sip before the corner of her lips curled into an impish smile. “And, he’s incredibly fun to tease. Like a younger brother, really. He’s my partner on the battlefield, but that doesn’t mean that I would want to partner with him in any other way.”

Zeke thought her words would have reassured him. They quelled his ever simmering feeling of jealousy, yes, but there was also another feeling… another feeling he couldn’t quite yet put a label on. He stared at the rippling glass-like ocean until his eyes glossed over, searching for the answer as the ships on the sea passed by each other in the night.

Pieck cleared her throat, prompting a change of subject. “Speaking of ‘younger,’ I’ve been observing the new crop of cadets. Magath hasn’t let up one bit, as expected,” she laughed. Her body shifted closer to his, and as they leaned against the roof railing together, her upper arm gave him that reassuring pressure. “Want to bet on how many will pass this year? There’s quite a few promising ones in this group. One boy just came in from another country, with glasses? He’s multilingual, so he would be a fantastic interpreter on the field. The top test grades are currently held by a girl, Zofia, but frankly, Reiner’s cousin is a shoe-in for sure, so I’m thinking five cadets–”

“They selected my successor, Pieck–” Zeke interrupted, sharply cutting off her words like one would a limb infected with gangrene. He now knew what the feeling was: disappointment. Even if he didn’t plan on defecting from Marley, Zeke knew his time would always expire before Pieck’s. Inheriting his titan a whole year before the rest of the unit did, it’s an unspoken, known fact that the both of them never dared to address–that Pieck would have to live on without him. So even though feelings of jealousy swelled within his chest, they were in constant battle with feelings of disappointment. As odd as it sounded, he was disappointed that she wasn’t at least open to the idea of Porco, because if she was, he knew she could find some semblance of happiness after his time was up.

“Colt Grice, from the crop after Reiner and Porco’s group.” Zeke finished off his drink before continuing, “It’s almost poetic, a Grice following the footsteps of a Yeager into hell…” He crushed the cup in his hand, muttering under his breath, “History repeats itself once again.”

Silence once more. The only sound came from the occasional sip from the last of Pieck’s drink and the constant rolling waves. Finally Pieck spoke, the carefree conversationalist gone. “It makes sense,” she whispered. “The youngest Grice is also in the newest cadet group. I’m sure that Colt is worried about his brother… If he gets the Beast, little Falco won’t have to earn Reiner’s spot. The Grice name will be restored and they’ll get to be honorary Marleyans…”

Somewhere during Pieck’s rationale, her head rested on Zeke’s shoulder. The gentle breeze picked up the fly aways in her tousled hair, lifting them up to tickle the side of Zeke’s chin. The action was a wordless display of countless, unspoken feelings: sadness, care, worry for the other, seeking out and giving comfort. Pieck knew, just as Zeke did, that speaking about how these future events would affect them personally didn’t truly matter. This fate was one that they had signed up for at the tender age of a child. Nothing was going to change it, yet it was a grim reminder of just how short thirteen years really were.

“Exactly right, my dear, as always,” Zeke confirmed the accuracy of her assessment. “That is what Colt has conveyed to me, at the very least, though it sounds like it won’t stop Falco from trying.” The bearer of the Beast paused for a moment before attempting to divert Pieck’s thoughts from going down a sorrowful path. “We should head back… it’s getting late,” he whispered, placing a hand on the dark-haired woman’s waist to turn and guide her back toward the fire escape. Now facing away from the ocean, his eyes settled on the actual roof exit, a singular closed door that led down into the building’s stairwell. The sight caused an old memory to resurface in his mind–

Of Hiding within that father’s blazer.

The cold sting of a sudden splash of water.

The sound of an angry and hateful voice. 

“I’m the cleaning staff here, and it’s my job to get rid of the filth. You devils have tainted this place. You, the descendants of devils who’ve massacred countless people! And yet, here you breed like pests!”

That father told him to remember it well, and that he did. That father told him that if you hate this world, then you must change it. That father told him that he would save everyone.

Zeke shook his head to shake the memory from his mind, turning his focus back onto Pieck as he started to descend down the fire escape first.

“To my flat?” He offered, not particularly wanting to say goodbye just yet. He wasn’t ready to, not yet, though that sudden, intrusive memory did solidify his resolve. Zeke would prove that father right.

He would save everyone.

He would save her.

Chapter Text

The sun was warm on Zeke’s back as he hunched over his desk within his office. Papers littered the surface, contrasting its customary state of organization. Zeke was not known to be an untidy person. Disregarding the fact he had far too many books than shelves, he never left things unfinished or out of place. It was all calculated for, and the condition of the rest of his office demonstrated that quality. Breaking him out of his state, the man paused as he heard a light rapping against the office’s main door. The door hinges grumbled and squeaked before Pieck’s gently smiling face peered in from behind the doorway. 

“Knock, knock…” 

As usual, her voice was a nearly whispering tone of soft raw silk, playful as it tickled his ear. His pen paused as he scratched at the sensation before continuing his written sentence. Pieck let herself in, not requiring a true invitation from him in years, to perch on the cushioned armrest of the chair that faced his dark walnut desk.

“You wouldn’t believe the crowd that I had to weave through to get here,” she mused aloud, her dangling legs barely swinging above the ground. “I’ve never seen the internment zone so filled with people.”

The only response Zeke gave was the continued scratching of his pen. It wasn’t uncomfortable, and she knew him well enough to know that he was listening. She hadn’t asked him a direct question, and clearly he was still working for some ridiculous reason, so a retort truly wasn’t needed. But the sun had already risen and passed its zenith two hours ago, the official time that the Warriors were told that they were off duty. They could spend the afternoon and early evening as they wished until Willy Tyber’s much anticipated performance.

“The festival is already under way.” Zeke could hear as she tried to deliver the line as nonchalantly as possible. “You should join--…us.” It was only a momentary verbal trip, less than a full second, and most others wouldn’t have noticed it. But he knew the woman before him better than anyone, and it was enough for Zeke to catch Pieck’s meaning.

The statement was enough for his pen to temporarily pause on the paper. Zeke allowed himself to truly consider it for just a moment. He imagined listening to music together, eating foreign delicacies together, maybe even winning something for her at a throwing game, but that’s as far as he would allow the fantasy to play out. He couldn’t possibly attend with her, not with what was to come next. In just a few hours time, his grand secret would be revealed, and should he go, he feared that would just corrode her memory of him even more than he already anticipated.

“I wish I could, though I’m afraid I have a few briefs I have to finish up for the upcoming Paradis operation,” he lied, placing his pen down over the greeting at the top of his letter to conceal it, for the true addressee was sitting just mere inches away. “That and Commander Magath requested to discuss security protocol for tonight’s event, with Colt shadowing, of course.” That part at least was true. “So I’m afraid we will both have to catch up with you lot later.”

Zeke scooted out his chair, getting up from his desk to walk around to the front. He leaned back against the edge, casually resting his hands against the wood. It was another inconspicuous ploy to prevent her from viewing the documents on his desk. His stormy blue eyes studied her carefully, his sharp mind analyzing the young woman to find the right method of deflection.

“I notice you don’t need your crutch anymore.”

Pieck glanced down towards her arm. His words brought her back to the recent battlefield. The muffled, constant sound of shells being fired around her filled her ears. She could nearly smell the smoke of cannons filling her lungs. Then there was the physical void, the nothingness, only surrounded by muscle and sinew of the large puppet she commanded. She had been in her Titan form for the past two and a half months straight. The gauntlet had left her body nearly wrecked from the experience. She didn’t heal as fast as the others, and her own legs had started to atrophy from lack of use. The Titan bearer had needed crutches since their return. She blinked hard, keeping her mind to the present, leaving the memory behind. After all, Pieck wasn’t going to let Zeke get away with changing the subject.

“I’ve been doing some extra training in the mornings. I’m starting to gain my muscle mass back.”

“That’s good. Two and a half months is far too long.”

Silence hung between them, not as comfortable as it had before. Zeke watched as Pieck bit her lower lip, formulating the right words to follow. “You know,” she paused, “we don’t have much time left.”

Again, her meaning was clear: you don’t have much time left.

The dark haired woman started again, hopping down from her perch to stand in front of him. “It’s less than a year, Zeke.” He had expected her tone to be quiet and sad, but the look in her eyes betrayed another emotion simmering under the surface, one that she usually did not direct at him: frustration.

“I know,” Zeke replied. He didn’t need a reminder; he knew exactly how long he had left, and he had to make it count. He took a breath to collect himself. For years he had been hiding things from her, and it was in these moments, mere hours before the curtain rises, that he feared he may stumble over his pre-rehearsed lines, giving away that he’s been playing a character all along.

“That doesn’t change the fact I still have responsibilities as War Chief.” Zeke pushed himself off of the ledge of his desk, taking just a small step to place both of his hands gently atop her shoulders.

“Tell you what–I promise I’ll sit next to you during the presentation. Does that sound fair?”

In that moment, Pieck seemed to search his eyes for something. Whatever she found caused her features to relax and a wry smile turned the corner of her mouth. “It’s an improvement,” she murmured begrudgingly. The Cart Titan bearer stepped closer into Zeke’s personal space, the front of her uniform jacket caressing his own. Electricity sparked in the mere seconds before Pieck lifted up her hands to cup Zeke’s face. Her thumb brushed over the neatly trimmed scruff of his beard, considering him before pressing a kiss to his lips. 

It wasn’t needy. It wasn’t demanding. It was light and airy, soft and chaste. It was the gentlest breath of contact before she lowered herself from standing on her tiptoes.

It wasn’t what she wanted, but for her, it was enough.

As Pieck broke away from him, Zeke instinctually wanted to grab her to prevent her from leaving him, to kiss her like she belonged to him, to grab her by the waist and place her atop his desk, to have just one more short tryst with her prior to this evening.

But that would be asking for too much, wouldn’t it?

So instead, the thought that this was the last kiss between them began to settle within the sediment of his heart.

The young woman cleared her throat, trying to clear whatever was unsaid between them, and stepped away. “You best save me a seat,” she playfully warned. She pointed her finger at him, and the sun behind Zeke was reflected in a roguish spark in her deep brown eyes. “Bets on who will be there first?”

Zeke felt his mouth go dry. He couldn’t possibly take that bet. That’d be cheating, for he had already rigged the outcome.

“Aren’t we tied at one-hundred-and-thirty-seven each?” He questioned, trying to play it off as nonchalantly as he could. “Why, you know I’ll certainly get there before you, which makes me wonder if you’re letting me win to be ahead of you for the first time in well…since the beginning.”

Zeke looked down at her into those dark, wide eyes, and for a brief moment, saw the little girl with the unkempt ponytail staring back at him. He smiled at her fondly, though the corners hinted at sadness.

“That’s a bet I’m not willing to take.”

Zeke heard her exhale through her nose, relenting to his decision with a smile. “Suit yourself,” she shrugged. She turned to the door. “Don’t stay up here for too long, all right? I’ll see you tonight.”

Pieck closed the door behind her with a click , resting against the frame for a moment. Now that she was out of his eyesight, she could allow her excitement to drop with her heart into her collection of given up hopes.

She exited into the packed streets of Liberio. Marleyan flags and pennant banners of the same colors lined the streets, zigzagging overhead. The decorations had been put up overnight, a fairytale transformation, bringing in vendors and performers. But Pieck didn’t allow herself to be swept up by the light music and excitement that floated through the streets as she walked towards her, Reiner, and Porco’s agreed meeting place.

Why would Zeke hang back? He said it was due to the Paradis Plan.  As requested by Zeke himself, Pieck knew that they would be leaving Marley in a few days to continue their mission. Zeke’s dying wish, as he had sold it to the brass. In addition, Magath had given them the intel that they had reason to believe that Paradis would be attempting a counterattack in the next few days. Magath even worried that it would take place tonight during Willy Tybur’s performance, when all eyes were placed on their little corner of the world. It wasn’t likely, but it would be the perfect opportunity for the island devils to attempt something, if they were capable of it. 

Was Zeke trying to make extra preparations for this evening? Increasing security, creating tactical defensive plans for the Marleyan military?

Or was it something else?

Ever since Zeke’s secret participation at the warehouse rally, Pieck had been keeping closer tabs on her War Chief than usual. Without seeming too suspicious, she tried to know his general whereabouts and any changes to his usual routine. She knew for a fact that Yelena’s group was in opposition to Marley’s government, but what was Zeke’s part in it? Since that day, that very question had turned over and over in her mind. For a man who was known to have sold out his own parents for the good of the nation, there was no possible way that Zeke could honestly agree with Yelena’s point of view.

Right?

No, he must be spying on them, preparing enough evidence against them in time for their arrest. Maybe that’s even what he had been working on at his desk? It would explain his defensive nature about the work. She had noticed him moving specifically to hide the papers. Maybe he didn’t want her to be compromised in his mission?

Pieck knew that he cared for her. Even if he hadn’t been able to say it, even if the word “love” rarely, if ever, passed her own lips… she knew that Zeke cared for her deeply. He knew everything about her: how she took her coffee, which leg she favored when she was weak from constant Titan shifting, how terrible she was at throwing, how to make her positively melt like caramel as they were tangled up with one another under the sheets, how much she– 

She hoped that she knew him well enough that she would see a sign. Some kind of signal that the light to her shadow would give her if his plan, whatever it was, was moving into the next phase.

“I do trust you.”

The thought should have given her more comfort. She was still hanging on, fingertips on the ledge of holding onto it as still true. 

“Hey! Pieck!”

The raven-haired woman looked up at the rough sound of Porco Galliard’s voice. He had a hand raised in greeting as Reiner stood next to him, giving her a ghost of a haunted smile. She tried to quell the uncomfortable wriggling in her stomach. It was like the feeling of leaving something behind, an important paper for a meeting or a stovetop burner on, important but at the periphery of her memory.

Pieck shook her head and jogged over to meet her comrades. She was being paranoid, over thinking all of this. The intel about Paradis having potential spies on Marleyan soil was enough to put her on edge. Usually, she had someone to share her worries with, someone who understood the intricacies of their situation. But with Pieck feeling as if Zeke was hiding, she, too, had retreated from honesty.

Now wasn’t the time for this.

The feeling was getting to be too much. She would speak with him about it later, reassure herself with open communication. The young woman pushed away her worries and plastered a smile onto her features. She didn’t have anything to worry about. She knew Zeke was capable of hiding many things, but she truly believed that he would never abandon her.

After all, she would see Zeke at the performance. He promised.

. . .

Always aiming to set a good example, the War Chief got to the presentation early, or at least that’s what it looked like to his successor who was accompanying him. He reached inside his inner breast pocket to pick out a cigarette, finding the need to calm his nerves before showtime.

“Ah,” Zeke exclaimed, patting down the rest of his pockets as if he lost something. “It seems I forgot my lighter.”

“I got one, Mr. Zeke,” Colt replied, reaching into his own pants pocket to pass him his. Colt didn’t smoke, but it seemed this happened often enough to warrant him carrying around an extra lighter for his predecessor.

“Thank you, Colt,” Zeke replied, graciously taking the lighter to light the end of his cigarette before passing it back to him. He took a long, deep drag, exhaling the smoke up into the crisp night air.

With a turn of his head, he spotted them. As Pieck and Porco approached, Pieck gave him a small wave and a smile.

“Did you guys have fun?” Zeke asked in earnest, hearing his own heartbeat reverberate in his ears. Seeing her arrival made all of this just a bit more real to him, like they were just one tick closer on the doomsday clock. Still, he had hoped they could at least have a couple hours of joy before orchestrating what was likely to be moments of terror that would follow.

“Hey, where’s Falco?” Colt blinked, noticing his absence from Udo and Zofia.

Zofia was too busy absorbing just how many people that were there, but at least Udo heard the question. “He ran off a minute ago saying that he found someone he knew.”

Zeke took another puff of his cigarette to appear completely neutral, though he knew what that meant–that Eren had taken his position, that phase one of his plan was almost underway.

“Will he be okay?” Porco asked. “Our orders are to be in our seats on time, you know.”

As if right on cue, Falco ran right up to Reiner, looking like he was a bit out of breath. “Vice Chief Braun, can you come with me for a sec?”

“Right now?” Reiner looked like he was almost about to decline.

Zeke, of course, needed Reiner to go, so he’d say just about anything to persuade him. The War Chief looked at his watch as he put out his cigarette with his foot. “I think it’s fine. We’ve still got time until the curtain rises.”

As Reiner hesitantly went with Falco, Zeke took a small sigh of relief, knowing the plan was in motion. He then clasped his hands together, addressing the rest of the gathered Warriors. “Shall we take our seats? Cadets in front. Wouldn’t want to block their view.”

As Gabi, Zofia, and Udo clambered onto the bench, Zeke stepped aside, making a grand gesture for Pieck to enter the row before him, making good on his promise. “Ladies first.”

A warmth flickered in her eyes. It was just for a moment, and just for him, but he caught it. “My my, thank you, War Chief. And who said that chivalry was dead?” Pieck walked past him, close enough that he could smell the scent of her hair, coffee with the slightest note of vanilla. Pieck took her seat, followed by the three other blonde Warriors at her side. As the adults settled in for what was sure to be a lengthy show, the children immediately started spinning around, pointing at different individuals that they recognized in the crowd.

Gabi was the main culprit of the pointing. “Wow. Even General Calvi’s here!”

“Along with every other important Marleyan officer,” Udo added. “The crowd’s also full of nobles and ambassadors.”

Galliard let out a small grunt. “Not to mention journalists from every newspaper in the world that’s worth the ink.”

Pieck leaned forward to tickle Zofia’s shoulders, shaking her back and forth just enough to get the younger girl to giggle. “It kinda feels like we’re the center of the world, doesn’t it?”

Try as he might, Zeke could not help but smile fondly at the interaction. He was never quite sure how to interact with children, always fearing he’d do or say something wrong. He knew from experience that a child would certainly hold onto such an error for forever. If it was up to him, he would never put this much weight upon Gabi, Falco, Udo, or Zofia’s shoulders. In an ideal world, Eldian children should be protected by the adults around them. Instead, they are treated like lambs led to the slaughter.

Despite the circumstances, however, Pieck was a natural. She always seemed to know when they needed physical comfort, and always seemed to know what to say, whether it was a compliment or words of encouragement. It was just one of the many marvels under her long list of strengths.

Zeke's lingering gaze on the woman beside him broke upon hearing the loud fanfare of trumpets, signaling the start to the show.

As Zofia covered her ears, Udo took a quick look around the aisle. “Are Falco and Mr. Braun still not back yet?

“Sheesh, what could they be doing?” Gabi whispered back.

Zeke of course knew the answer, but remained silent. He clasped his cold hands together in his lap in an effort to keep himself calm and collected; he wasn’t about to give himself away, not this late in the game.

“Warriors of Marley,” a voice suddenly commanded their attention. “Commander Magath has summoned you.”

Right on schedule. To everyone else, they appeared to be a Marleyan soldier, just as planned, though the War Chief knew their true identity. He had not seen Yelena in years at this point, but was thankful she took his advice on wearing a disguise, as he didn’t put it past Pieck to remember her face. He had only hoped fake facial hair was enough.

The three eldest Warriors stood quietly just as the man of the hour, Willy Tybur, took the stage. It wasn’t surprising for General Magath to summon them. Given the warning they had received earlier, Pieck assumed that it had something to do with the Paradis operation. But as she looked over at their escort, a strange feeling started to wriggle in her gut once more. As the flashing lights of cameras from around the world took record of Tybur’s performance, Pieck’s view of the face of the soldier was obscured. She squeezed Zofia’s shoulder as she passed, wanting to reassure the younger cadets as the group departed. They filed quickly away from the audience and the echoing voice of the head of the Tybur family.

The sounds of the production faded as they continued to walk down the streets of Liberio. Walking beside the curb to allow Pieck and Porco space on the sidewalk, Zeke kept his eyes firmly plastered on the back of Yelena’s helmet. He knew that if he even dared to take one glance at Pieck, it might be his downfall. 

The soon-to-be ex-War Chief of Marley thought about telling her his grand plan; it was a thought that had crossed his mind more than once. If he could get her to see his reasoning, they would be an unstoppable force. The success rate of his plan would have increased tenfold with Pieck Finger by his side, but never once did Pieck ever give him so much as even a hint that she’d be willing to betray Marley. Besides that, he knew just how much Pieck’s father meant to her. It was the second thing he ever learned about her, right after her name, when he was ten-years-old. Betraying Marley was certainly a death sentence for Mr. Finger, and that was something Zeke was not willing to risk.

He cared too much for her, and perhaps if he cared less, if he didn’t make the mistake of getting too attached, then this next moment would be far easier.

“My orders are to send you to the front gate, Yeager,” the soldier commanded, stopping at the end of the block and pointing him to his next heading.

Zeke felt his stomach drop. This was it. He had to look at her. He had to say one final goodbye, even if she didn’t know it. He turned to face them, giving a wave to Yelena that he understood his assignment.

“Right!” He called back over his shoulder, flashing Pieck a reassuring smile. His light gray eyes looked just above her own, for he was far too fearful to make eye contact. She was his Medusa. If he looked her dead in the eye, then surely he’d turn into stone, cementing him forever to the street below.

His gaze lingered maybe just a bit too long, wanting to take one final look at her to sear her image into the memory of his mind. This was the last time he’d ever see Pieck Finger again. The heel of his boot grated against the dusty road as he turned and took his first footsteps to continue down the street, walking until he was certain he could no longer feel her gaze upon his back.

Pieck smiled at the extra attention her War Chief had afforded her. It was unusual for him to give into things like lingering glances. Maybe it was the tension that their summons from General Magath had brought about. Maybe he wanted to mend the awkward rift between them just as she did, and he was looking to give her the smallest of signs that they would talk later. The change was certainly surprising, but welcome, and her eyes softened as she watched his silhouette fade into the shadows of the dark streets ahead.

“This way, you two.”

The gruff voice of their chaperone brought Pieck back to the present. The woman allowed her naturally slow pace to give Porco the middle position in their marching order. As they moved further and further away from the Liberio pavilion, Zeke’s departure left her with an unnerving feeling, as if she had forgotten something. As time dragged on, that feeling continued to rise. Pieck looked forward at the Marleyan soldier once more. Something about their voice seemed familiar…

“I feel like I’ve seen you before,” Pieck conversed, her voice amicable, “but I can’t quite place you. Where are you stationed?”

The soldier huffed. “My unit’s out west, near Lakua. They sent me to help bolster security. I’m not interested in chatting with an Eldian, even if you are a Warrior.” The soldier spoke with impatience, but it lacked the bite of simmering hatred that most Marleyan soldiers wielded.

Huh. That’s odd…

“Well isn’t that a shame?” Pieck sighed, a knowing tone creeping into her voice. “I’d started to take a real liking to your beard.”

It was at that moment that the group of three heard someone call Pieck’s name. She turned to see five familiar, white-uniformed soldiers. The bearer of the Cart Titan thought about giving them a simple wave before continuing, but her quick mind concocted a plan. Firstly, when there are unknown factors in a situation, plant as many possible seedlings of actions as possible. Secondly, being the only known female Warrior guaranteed to still be alive came with its challenges, but Pieck had learned a valuable lesson early on. Men in the military had a strong tendency to underestimate their female colleagues, so why shouldn’t she use that to her advantage?  

Slipping into a familiar act, Pieck gasped loudly with surprise. “It’s the Panzer Unit! Thanks for all your hard work, guys!”

Porco made a noise of surprise as she jogged over to her comrades, arms raised to throw them around Jakob, the shorter blond in the middle. She pulled him in for a hug, using the exclamations of shock from her other unit members as cover to whisper into his ear. “There’s something up with this soldier. Shadow us for a while.”

“What are you doing?” their bearded escort demanded. “Let’s go.”

Pieck drew away from her unit with as much of a simple-minded smile as she could manage. The soldier’s eagerness to divide her from her unit only increased her suspicions.

Porco scoffed. “What was that?”

Pieck knew exactly what he meant. But with Beardy within earshot, had to keep up the charade.

“What?” Pieck defended. “Those soldiers ride the Cart Titan into battle. I need their support, so I try to build a bond with them.”

“Well, no offense, but it seems like ya did more harm than good.”

Their little group walked for another five, maybe even ten minutes. Their military escort led them to a building on the outreaches of the Liberio district. The upstairs of the dwelling was dark, its occupants most likely at the congregation several blocks down. However, there was a glow coming from the lower level, inviting them inside. Pieck’s brow furrowed. This looked like some sort of shop, or maybe even a person’s home. Why would Magath want to meet them here?

“In here. Go.”

Porco took the first steps into the main room of the building, Pieck close behind. The room was filled with chairs and a table, as if they had been setting up for a meeting. But there was one thing missing.

“So,” Porco drawled, “where’s Commander Magath?”

Pieck turned to hear the soldier’s response. As she took in the scene, the knife, the rope, the pulley system leading downwards to the floor below, the truth of their situation dawned on her immediately. She yelled her comrade’s name, but she wasn’t quick enough. It all happened so fast. As the soldier slashed through the trap, she felt the solid wood under her feet give away to nothing. Air. A moment of weightlessness before gravity worked its laws. Her hair whipped past her face, effectively blinding her. A scream erupted from her lungs, sounding like it was miles away from her as she plunged into darkness.

A crack.

A moment of numbness.

Then pain, shooting through her leg. She thought she might black out, maybe she would prefer it, but her stubborn mind, used to this sort of physical abuse by now, stayed painfully aware. Pieck pushed her hair out of her face to glance upwards. There was only a light, twenty, thirty… maybe forty feet above her, but she couldn’t see or hear the recreant Marleyan. They were gone, leaving the two shifters at the bottom of the pit.

“Shit.”

Pieck looked over at her battle partner. His wrist was bent at an alarming angle, obviously as broken as her leg.

“That really hurt. What the hell is this place?”

Steam hissed from her leg as Pieck got her bearings, her head still ringing from the impact with the ground. They were in a small, circular pit. For a moment, she was reminded of another fall she had experienced years ago…

“It reminds me of something we studied two years ago. Do you remember the Warrior detainment pits? They apparently have them in strategic locations across Liberio, just in case they need to restrict a shifter’s ability to turn into a Titan. Not many people seem to know where they are…”

“Right you are again, Pieck.”

But this time was different. There had been no splash, no one to pull her out of the water and support her. The walls here were lined with bricks, not rock and dirt. Manmade, then, she decided. The floor was dirt, but packed solidly, topped with straw to soften the landing. As her eyes adjusted to the light change, she could see items pushed to the corners of their prison that the two Eldians had thankfully avoided falling on top of. Amongst those items were wood, food, water, and a chamberpot. Huh. Seemed like whoever had prepared this space for them expected the two shifters to be there for the long haul.

“Looks like a pit meant to detain Warriors like us,” she shrugged. “It’s a classic. The space is too cramped to transform in, and with two of us down here.”

“Hmm, got it,” Porco replied. “We’d just crush each other. I’m still confused though. What’s that soldier’s plan?”

“Couldn’t tell you.” Pieck squeezed her eyes tightly, willing them to remember everything. Any detail, any clue that she could have missed. She didn’t have anything she could do right now. All she could do was wait until the Panzer Unit realized what had happened.

“They really were familiar, though. I know that much.”

Concurrently, Zeke walked for several more blocks, with only his footsteps and the distant sound of the voice of Willy Tybur for company. He had to keep his mind present, willing the thought of Pieck’s last expression toward him out of his brain. His task right now was to get to the main gate. As he rounded the corner, he spotted the two guards stationed there and gave them a small wave.

The guards exchanged a confused look amongst themselves before turning back to look at the War Chief.

“Yeager?” The taller of the two guards addressed him. “What are you doing here?”

“I was instructed that Commander Magath wanted me at the front gate,” Zeke responded, feigning innocence.

“Well that’s incorrect. The Commander wanted you to report to– GHH-ACKK! ” The guard’s sentence was interrupted by the slitting of his throat.

Before the shorter guard could panic or scream, he too was subdued by a club to his head. Both of them fell to the ground, replaced by two new silhouettes. The infamous, fear-inducing pair known as the Ackermans stood in their place, blood pooling at their feet.

“Is everything going to plan, Monkey?” Levi interrogated him in a low sneer, wiping the blood off of his dagger as he spoke.

“The Cart and the Jaw have been subdued. It should be a straight shot to the stage for you. Is the rest of your team ready?” Zeke asked, taking a cigarette out of his inner breast pocket and putting it to his lips. He hated to admit it, but standing mere inches from this man made him nervous.

“The Colossal is in position at the docks. Otherwise, the rest are divvying up supplies to place the guide lights,” Levi confirmed.

“And Eren? Where is Eren?” Mikasa finally spoke for the first time.

“In position with the Armored,” Zeke turned to look at her, giving her a small smile. So this was her.   It’s no wonder Eren took a liking to her, she was radiant. It seemed like attraction to dark-haired, dark-eyed, strong-willed women was a genetic trait amongst the Yeagers. “It’s nice to meet you, Mikasa. I’ve heard a lot about you from my brother. All good things, of course.” He reached into his pants pocket, only to realize that for the second time that evening, he didn’t have his lighter with him. “I only wish we were meeting under different circumstances.”

“Now is not the time for small talk, you bearded bastard,” Levi interrupted, stepping to stand in between the both of them.

Suddenly, a large, loud explosion erupted, causing the trio to turn and look toward the south. Even from this distance, shrapnel and splinters of wood could be seen flying through the air. It was accentuated by the piercing roar of the Founding Titan’s scream.

“That’s your cue,” Zeke commented. “How long until the airship arrives?”

“Forty-five minutes,” Levi responded, noticing Mikasa was already taking off in Eren’s direction. “So don’t be late.”

Zeke flashed him a smarmy smirk in return, “I’ll be sure to sync my watch.”

Levi merely grit his teeth in response, his eyes expressing all the disdain that he held within that small body before he blasted upwards toward the rooftop, trailing not too far behind from the other Ackerman.

Meanwhile, time felt slower than bitter molasses in the equally dark shifter detainment pit as Pieck silently waited for their rescue to arrive. She closed her eyes, keeping still, willing all of her physical energy to go towards healing her leg. She tried counting the bricks surrounding her to keep her mind busy, but it was a poor distraction.

Where was Zeke? Was her War Chief trapped somewhere else, in a pit similar to this one? She knew that Marley must have several sprinkled throughout the district, not that the shifters would know their positions. What about Reiner, had he also been detained? That would explain his previous absence. The enemy had separated them one by one and they had played completely into their plan. The better question, Pieck thought, was why was Zeke separated from Galliard and herself? Did the enemy know them so well that they knew to separate the two best minds the Warrior program had? Or did they need to isolate Zeke’s incredible mind?

Or worse, could they have…?

No. Pieck wouldn’t let her mind jump to that conclusion.

She felt her nerves starting to fray, reaching her one thousand, four-hundred and eighty-third brick when the earth around them began to quake.

Porco lifted a hand to shield himself from the debris falling from the gray stone bricks around them. “Okay. What’s going on here?”

Pieck’s voice was thick, attempting to talk around her heart in her throat. “Based on all the tremors, I think Titans must be fighting on the surface.”

“Wait, are you serious?”

“You have to admit, that would explain why that soldier trapped us down here. We need to join the fight quickly.” 

Titans. Titans were fighting. If the Titans were being utilized, what could that mean? Had the Paradisians made their move? How large was the threat for Warriors to transform in the middle of the city? Who was fighting? Reiner? Zeke?

Just as Porco started to question her, a grunt from above sent a shot of relief through her.

“You’re late!”

“Sorry, Pieck!” Luca called down, his dark brown hair peeking from the rim of the pit.

Pieck caught Galliard up to her contingency plan as the Panzer Unit organized themselves for the rescue. A rope was quickly dropped down, allowing Pieck to create a fast safety harness. The unit pulled both of the Warriors up to the surface. Pieck had barely broken out of the pit before she demanded an update on the situation.

Andreas was first to respond. “A Titan attacked and killed Lord Tybur during his speech!”

Porco’s eyes bulged. “For real?”

The taller man nodded. “The War Hammer Titan’s keeping it occupied for the time being.”

Ah. That explains the fighting, then.

Pieck took a steadying breath. Despite the acidic panic growing within her, now was not the time for hysterics. She knew exactly what to do. She had trained her whole life for this. “How far to the Cart’s Armor?”

“It’s back at HQ!” Bruno piped up from behind his red bandana. “We can equip it in fifteen minutes.”

“Do it in ten,” she commanded, her tone uncompromising. 

The Panzer Unit saluted their leader before running off. Porco cleared his throat to get Pieck’s attention. “I’m going on ahead.”

“Hold on, Porco. Don’t rush in ‘til you know what you’re…” 

Pieck froze.

A high-pitched zing interrupted Pieck’s words and broke through the quiet around them. First, it was just one. Then two, then more. Soon, the hum of retracting cables was followed by a humanoid shadow rocketing across the rooftops.

No. No no no. Not here, this can’t be…

Realization set in, chilling Pieck to her very core. She remembered the last time she had heard those sounds. The feeling of helplessness as she watched her War Chief fall filled her mind, seeding a deep terror in the pit of her stomach. “There’s no way. How’d they get here?”

I have to find Zeke. He’s coming for him!

Her thoughts raced as quick as her feet would carry her, surroundings a blur, as she raced through the streets with the rest of the Panzer Unit. Finally, the team was about to get to headquarters. Pieck burst into a hanger bay, startling several other soldiers on duty, barking orders before her transformation would affect her ability to communicate. She bit her hand, teeth breaking through the skin, blood coating the tip of her tongue before she was filled with the familiar electricity of shifting. She closed her eyes, losing herself within the confines of muscle and tissue that grew around her body. The ligaments attached to her face, pulling at the skin of her cheeks as she connected her own nervous system to that of the Cart Titan’s.

The most difficult part for her was as her armor was being applied. It required her to stay completely still as the Panzer Unit moved around her large body, attaching the heavy machine gun armament. Standing still was the last thing that she wanted, but moving would put the rest of her unit at risk. The metal plating was several hundred pounds. And if she misstepped? Pieck didn’t want to think about the consequences. She busied her mind with what her next steps would be: getting to the fight and finding Zeke. Who else knew that Zeke was missing? Had the rest of the military been notified? Or had Zeke escaped, and was already out there fighting? If the island devils were here then he must be here. 

Levi Ackerman.

Pieck thought back to that day as the infamous demon flew across the sky. He had appeared so insignificant, like a gnat attempting to take down a bear. But his size hadn’t deterred him from taking down Titan after Titan before coming straight for the War Chief. If Ackerman was here, Pieck had to warn Zeke. He would surely be that attack dog of a man’s singular and most important target.

Finally, the armor and machine gun armament was securely loaded onto her back. Her Panzer Unit jumped on board, signaling themselves securely buckled in, and she sprung into action. She nearly started sprinting to the main gate, sure that was where he was being held. But Pieck knew that was not the best course of action. It was an emotional decision, one that Zeke himself would chide her for. The most help she could be right now was at the scene of the fight.

Although the sounds of battle echoed from ahead, the streets were already a hellscape. Explosions rang out across the city as the devils launched spear-shaped bombs and grenades into any building where a retreating Marleyan could be seen. Some alleyways were turned from their gray stone into a deep apricot glow as fires detonated, shattering windows and doorways into splinters. Then there were the bodies. Civilians, women and children, laid crushed under debris. Soldiers with bullet wounds through their skulls were bent at unnatural angles like discarded rag dolls on the ground. Pieck tried to navigate as quickly through and around the deceased as possible, but there were just too many.

Almost there… just a little bit further…

A feral scream snapped her mind back to the present. Porco. That was the sound of the Jaw Titan, his tone in some sort of distress.

Porco’s scream carried for several square miles, scratching and crawling its way through the corpses and debris in the streets until it found its last target, injecting itself straight into Zeke’s veins. The sound caused his grip on his dagger to tighten; he recognized it immediately. His mind began to connect the dots. They got out of the containment pit. He knew that wasn’t Porco’s doing. It meant Pieck figured out some way to get the both of them out, some variable that he didn’t account for. She had eluded and outsmarted him, or perhaps Yelena failed her post. In any other circumstance, he would have praised her. In this case, all he wanted to do was yell and throw her back kicking and screaming into the pit himself, because at least that way he could protect her.

He willed his feet to move forward, slicing the blade across his open palm as he walked. The familiar feeling of shifting took over him, his body melding with the Beast as he transformed. He had to steel himself and take some deep breaths before arriving. If he looked panicked, then most would think that would be because of Levi making him public enemy number one, rather than being fearful of Pieck’s safety. But panic was not his usual modus operandi; he was Marley’s Strongest Warrior, and he would act the part.

Zeke heard the sound of heavy artillery being fired, no doubt the Panzer Unit aiding the Cart in combat. When the town square came into view, his eyes were met with a flash. The Warhammer suddenly generated a hardened pike, nearly a hundred feet, and lifted the Founding Titan into the air. The ground shook as his footfalls reverberated off of what was left of the buildings, causing large ripples to form in the pools of blood below. Boom . Boom. Boom . He knew that rhythm was a sound that Pieck knew almost as well as her own heartbeat, the two exchanging glances as she looked down at him from the rooftop she was perched on. How relieved both Pieck and Porco must have felt to see him, though it was an emotion he truly didn’t deserve. 

As Porco stationed himself by his left side, the War Chief roared out what may just be his final orders to them, “Don’t let them escape. Wipe them out.”

The bearer of the Beast reached down to pick up chunks of concrete, crushing it into shrapnel within his hand. The Paradisian devils tried to come within striking distance of him, but were scared off by the Cart’s titans heavy artillery fire. His shadow had once again taken her protective stance, covering him from behind.

With his grand plan now becoming far more complicated, Zeke had to walk the finest lines. He had to look as if he were fighting for Marley, but at the same time, it surely wouldn’t look good to the scouts if he racked up a high kill count. He aimed his pitch carefully, giving the devils just a fraction of a window to dodge out of the way of his assault. More scouts impulsively rocketed upwards in an attempt to cut at his nape, though instead they headed straight towards an early grave. The Cart fired at them again, warding off their attack. Zeke didn’t even have the courage to thank her for covering his back, as all he was about to give in return was a brutal stab to hers.

The eldest Warrior watched the battlefield, his eyes narrowing as he observed Eren trying to bite into the Warhammer. The Titan of the Tybers was the one variable that he could not entirely predict in his raid plan, but Eren was handling it well. At this rate, he may even eat it, which would only help their cause.

The bearer of the Beast’s attention flickered back up to the two titans who were resting behind him, overhearing Pieck and Porco arguing over the next steps that they should take.

“Which is why I’m saying that if we can just get the Founding Titan…” Porco began, yelling over the steam of his Titan. “That’ll take away the ace up their sleeve–the ability to start the rumbling. And now’s our chance to strike!”

“That’s exactly why we should proceed with caution!” Pieck countered. “All we need to do right now is protect the War Chief from Ackerman.”

Turned away from her, Zeke couldn’t help but smile sourly. She wasn’t even on it, yet she could read his plan perfectly. Like a conductor, she didn’t write his music, but she surely could orchestrate it. He wanted to curse; this would have been so much easier if she could have just stayed in the containment pit.

“As expected of Pieck, that’s exactly right,” Zeke praised through the gritty voice of the Beast as he crossed his arms over his chest. In one fluid motion, he flung his arms outward, causing a massive array of projectiles to be pitched over the battlefield. Wanting to make sure Porco stayed put, he built off of Pieck’s argument. The last thing he wanted was for the Jaw to go after Eren once more.

“Eren Yeager is not my enemy,” he announced. “Someone else comes first.” The Beast’s glowing red eyes darted around the square as if they were laser pointers, scanning for his next target. They needed to hurry, as he was uncertain just how long he could hold both Pieck and Porco at bay. “Show yourself, Levi. You can’t afford to wait, can you.” And truthfully, neither could he.

Pieck internally laughed at the War Chief’s perceived taunt. At least he was building up his bravado in the face of one of his greatest enemies and nightmares. Now that Zeke was present, Pieck felt her confidence solidify. It was like having sure footing after hiking on ever-shifting sand; she knew where she stood, what her job was, and could outline every priority. The Warriors had the home front advantage, as Zeke would say in one of his classic, barely understood sports analogies. The Warriors of Marley knew these streets better than anyone, and no one could take advantage of this particular battlefield better than them.

At least, until a far away blast lit up the night’s sky. Pieck deduced that it was coming from their port as the glow cast the horizon line in shades of flames. The light was so bright that one might think that the sun was prematurely rising, but the familiar shape of a circle was replaced with a mushroom cloud of smoke. Black dots, which Pieck soon realized were naval ships, were blasted into the air.

Pieck grit her teeth in frustration as a delayed blast of air hit the group of Warriors. “It looks like they have the Colossal now. They didn’t just kill Bertholdt. They took his Titan.”

“Those vicious bastards!” Porco screamed. “It seems they didn’t barge in here without a plan after all!” The bearer of the Jaw Titan dove back into his armor before leaping from his and Pieck’s perch behind Zeke. As Porco dove into another round of the fight, Pieck looked away from the Chief.

“War Chief! They’re coming up on our right–”

A curtain of blood shielded Pieck’s vision. Horror fell into the pit of her stomach as she turned back. 

No. No no no… There’s no way…

A spray of blood was still gushing from the nape of the Beast Titan’s neck. From her position, it was impossible to see where the blow had truly struck, the viscous liquid matting up the chestnut fur around his shoulders and back. She expected him to catch his balance. She expected him to roar in defiance. But nothing met her expectations as the Beast Titan stumbled, a puppet cut from its Marleyan red strings, falling face down into a collapsed heap below her. As the dust of his fall started to settle, Pieck could make out the silhouette of one small male before the smoke obscured her view.

Time stopped. Her mouth ran dry. It was him . Ackerman. He had come for Zeke, crossed an entire ocean to do it, just to destroy the Beast Titan in his very hometown.

Her eyes were deceiving her, they must be. Despite Zeke’s termination date inevitably coming before her own, she had never fully thought about what that would mean. Or what it would look like. For all of her intelligence, for all of her training that was drilled and even beaten into her, nothing could have prepared her for this. She dared him to get up, to move, to escape from his prison of false Titanic flesh, but none of her prayers were answered. Instead of him calling her name, she could hear nothing but the echo of her own shallow breath.

“Pieck! We’ve got incoming!”

Luca’s voice directed Pieck’s vision, glowing yellowed eyes from inside of her armored mask, to a barrage of Paradisian soldiers from above. She still had lives depending on her, even if his was–

No. Stop. Fight. Defend.

Meanwhile, Zeke’s vision blacked out momentarily, the chaos around him going completely silent for a split second until it was replaced by a loud ringing in his ears. When he came to, he felt the feeling of wind against his face, mixed with the steam from his already healing body. He nearly gave himself a fright as his blue-gray eyes blinked open, now suddenly seeing the world from an aerial view.

“Don’t worry, asshole,” Levi attempted his own version of consoling him. “I’m not going to drop you. Otherwise, this would entirely be a waste of time.”

Zeke peered down at the wreckage they were leaving behind, immediately spotting his limp Beast form before his eyes veered upwards. Several scouts began to surround the Cart Titan.

“Hey…” Zeke started to speak, his voice hoarse. “Why aren’t your men retreating?”

The blond watched as Pieck tilted to her left, giving one of her gunmen a better angle. One pest launched a missile at her, but she easily batted it aside before it detonated. All appeared to be going well until one pod continued to fire, then stopped, the end of the gun tilting unmanned towards the sky.

“There’s no need for this. They should be getting to the airship. This isn’t part of the plan!” Zeke protested toward his captor, unable to hide the concern in his voice.

“It’s out of my hands,” Levi quipped back. “The plan changed when your two pets broke out of their cage.”

Even this high up, Zeke could still hear Pieck scream, her voice amplified from within her Titan. “You’ll pay for that!” She sprung, jaws opened wide to separate the body in front of her.

But it was too late.

She had made an emotional call, just like  Zeke had accused her of all of those years ago. She was about to pay for it, and unlike the last time, there was nothing Zeke could do about it. An enemy soldier aimed his ODM gear right under her legs, using its retractive qualities to launch himself towards her. Pieck was mid-stride as he released one of his spear bombs. Zeke watched in horror as the metal slid past her ocular armor, his aim perfect, pushing into her eye socket before the inescapable burn of flames blinded her left eye completely. It scorched across her skin, blistering her face as she skidded to a halt. 

“Run. Please, Pieck. Please run,” Zeke whispered, praying that his pleas would somehow reach her.

She had to run, had to get away, but which way to go? But there was no escape. The devils then surrounded her from above, the hiss of their canisters releasing their payload before she was hit on every side. Zeke opened his mouth to scream, to protest, but the raw cry from deep within his throat was drowned out by the explosions. He couldn’t even reach out to her, for his limbs were gone. All the months of planning and preparation, critically theorizing over every possible scenario, every possible method of keeping his precious Pieck safe, were gone to waste. She was injured, mutilated, and possibly even dead, and it was all his fault. All his fault. The crushing words of his parents echoed like the tortured wails of banshees within his mind. Damn it! It’s Bullshit! Don’t say that! He’s trying his best! He’ll never be a Warrior like this! There he was, feeling as helpless as he did when he was six-years-old, and unlike before, he couldn’t throw a blanket over himself to block out the pain. All he could do was watch and listen in horror.

Pain–agonizing, searing, and inescapable–must have encompassed every nerve, but nothing was nearly as painful as the screams. One scream was first, perhaps Andreas, followed by another, Luca maybe. One yelled out her name, an anguished plea for her help. But as the fire engulfed them all, there was nothing Pieck could do. Zeke watched as she attempted to scramble away from the blasts searing her flesh and double-nervous system, her moves uncoordinated. But with one eye gone and the other coated in smoke, she couldn’t see what was around her. As she ungracefully fell to the concrete below, for the first time in years, Pieck let out a shriek of mourning and desperation.

Zeke felt himself come to a complete halt as Levi grabbed onto the rope net of the airship. Several worked to hoist his large frame up into the hull, yet try as he might, the mastermind of the Liberio Raid could not turn and look away from the wreck that he left behind. The last image of Pieck he was supposed to have in his brain, that small, reassuring, and sleepy smile she flashed him before he separated from her on the streets of Liberio, was now gone. Instead, it was replaced by this. 

This was the cost of his plan coming to fruition, and this was what he deserved.