Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In the year 850, humanity finds the lost journals of Grisha Yeager. 

The lives of countless soldiers were sacrificed for those three, leather-bound books. But the contents within proved well-worth the sacrifice. 

Those within the Walls learn that they are not alone in this world, but rather the descendents of a race of war criminals, dwelling on a pseudo prison island. They learn that technology has advanced far past their nascent, fumbling innovations. They learn the true origins of the titans and how they were created. They learn much also, on Titan Shifters, these superior battle forms that seemingly everyday men are able to wield. They discover that there are nine of them in total, and that Marley holds five. 

They learn the name of Eren's titan, The Attack Titan, and the story of Grisha and Eren Kruger. They learn the horrid, uncomfortable truth behind the Beast Titan's parentage. The journal spills secrets of the Internment Zone, it paints a picture of oppression, racism and poverty. It speaks of centuries of contextual history that they have never dreamed of.

For all the journal offers, it leaves newer questions unanswered. The world looms larger than it ever has before. 

So, Eren thinks to himself, this is the ocean.

There is something oddly emptying about achieving your dreams. No one had told him that. In the space that used to be inhabited by ambition, desperation, and struggle, now there is simply… the view. 

It’s a lovely view, to be fair. Even now, with the sun beating down on them and his hair turning tacky from the saltwater ( salt. water. Eren is going to take it back by the bottle and sell it and be rich. But later), there is something inexplicably lovely about the beach. The complimentary colours and the cool wind. The ever present sound of laughter in the air. 

Eren stands just a ways into the ocean, submerged to his knees in the cold water. In front of him, Sasha and Connie have ceased attempting to dunk each other to try and dunk Jean. Jean, meanwhile, is too busy mooning at Mikasa in the sunlight to defend himself. Mikasa stands closest to Eren, face fixed downwards, fascinated by the sight of her toes wiggling in the water. Armin and Hange are further back, excitedly discussing something scientific about seashells that Eren can’t be bothered to pay attention to. 

He’s here. It’s real.

Part of his desperation to see the ocean was born of hope. If Armin’s grandfather’s book was right, then there aren’t just oceans of water, but oceans of sand too. And there are great big mountains and apparently some angry mountains that spew fire. The thought is almost too much to handle. For the first time in his life, Eren doesn’t feel caged. He feels limitless.

“So,” says Captain Levi. Eren startles. He hadn’t heard him approaching. Everyone has been splashing around in the water all morning, yet it’s somehow fitting that Levi moves without making a sound. “You’ve achieved your dreams. You’ve seen the ocean. Now what?”

“I don’t know,” Eren says. Out of the corner of his eye, Eren sees Mikasa watching him curiously too. “I’m still deciding. What about you, Captain Levi? Once you’re done killing all the titans left, what will you do?”

“Who says that was my dream?” Levi says. He turns his head sideways and smirks at Eren. He doesn’t deny it though. “Maybe when I’m done with all the other titans and bored out of my mind, I’ll just kill you.” Eren knows he’s joking, so he isn’t afraid. Still, something in that smirk makes him shiver. Behind him, Mikasa splashes pointedly and glares at Levi. He rolls his eyes. “But I suppose your bodyguard over there wouldn’t let me. I’ll settle for your piece of shit half-brother instead.”

Eren’s still trying to accept that he even has a half-brother. “The Beast Titan?”

“Yeah. I’ve got a score to settle with him.” Levi turns back to look at the ocean. His gaze is long. Eren knows he’s picturing Marley across the sea, and all the Titan Warriors. He doesn’t doubt the vision is bloody.

“That makes sense,” Eren agrees, in some way. He hasn’t forgotten the destruction Zeke brought on the Survey Corps, the dead bodies of his friends. He will avenge them or die trying, he knows this with certainty. But it seems wrong for that to be his dream, too. Eren, loathe as he is to admit it, is prone to hopelessness. This world is cruel, and it has been cruel to him especially. In his vision for the future, he wants something hopeful. Something for Armin to rouse him with when he’s out of it. Something worth waking up for. “I think… I want to make it so that everyone within the walls is safe.”

Levi turns to look at him. Mikasa has moved closer, and the others are paying attention now too. Eren bristles a little at the attention, but he’s proud of what he’s going to say next. “I think I want to bring everyone here. Queen Historia, and the Garrison soldiers. I want to make it so that whoever wants to, whenever they want to, they can see the ocean, too.”

There’s something soft in Levi’s eyes. He doesn’t say anything, but Eren can tell he approves. He feels a pair of hands clap onto his shoulders. Hange-san smiles down at him. “Eren,” they say. “I think that’s an excellent plan.” 

Six months ago

Eren wakes up screaming. 

It takes him a second to reorient himself, to register that he isn’t fifteen metres tall and slumped over Wall Maria. His sense of sound returns first, and he can hear Armin and Mikasa calling his name. He blinks his eyes open and sees a dimly lit room behind a set of bars. Armin’s blonde head is highlighted by the torch in the hallway outside the cell.

“Eren, it’s okay. You’re safe. We’re in Wall Rose,” Armin says.

"Eren? Are you alright?” Mikasa asks. “You were thrashing around.” 

“Yeah, sorry. Just a nightmare.” Eren scrubs a hand down his face. He remembers where he is now. Solitary confinement for going against the orders of a superior officer. They’ve been in here for only two days, and Eren loathed it the first day, unused to stillness after the constant adrenaline rush of the mission. But after the nightmare he just had, he finds himself comforted by the dimness and solid walls. Eren takes comfort also, in the sight of Armin’s concerned gaze across the bars of his cell. The solitary confinement is a bit of a stickler, sure, but Armin is alive. What a laughable trade off.

“What was it about?”

“Nothing, really. It wasn’t linear, just flashes. I haven’t been able to wrap my head around everything in the journal.” Eren hugs his arms around himself. “It was bad enough knowing I ate my own father, but now I find out my half-brother’s the Beast Titan? It’s too much.”

Armin rests his forehead against the bars in sympathy. "For what it's worth, you're nothing like him. He’s a coward. And you’re not, Eren.” He looks earnest, and Eren trusts him not to lie. 

He also trusts himself to know that while he’s always struggled with believing in himself, he would never run from a fight unless he was ordered to do so. He would never have abandoned a comrade to certain death, no matter how impossible the odds. If this is the thing that separates him from his brother, then he is content with that. 

It’s just… “He told me he wanted to ‘save’ me. What does that even mean?”

“It means he’s willing to play mind games on an exhausted child to try and garner the upper hand. Who knows what he would have done to you if Captain Levi hadn’t shown up and scared him off? ” Armin’s gripping the bars with both hands now. 

“There’s still so much we don’t know. My father wrote about getting the Attack Titan from Eren Kruger, but we still don’t know why he gave it to him.”

"It could be that Kruger knew his time was up inside Marley, and he needed to make a break for it. I mean, he did attack an entire port full of soldiers," says Armin.

“But why do that? Why risk it all for my father if he killed hundreds of patriots before?”

“Maybe he felt disillusioned that his plan didn’t work out. Zeke could have used the Beast Titan for the benefit of the Eldians in the Internment Zone, but he sided with Marley instead and hundreds of patriots were executed. Perhaps Kruger knew it was only a matter of time before someone tracked him down, too."

“Why didn’t he come to the Walls himself then?”

“Kruger was a soldier,” Mikasa says. “It’s harder for a soldier to blend in than a doctor.”

“And Dr. Yeager was committed to the cause. It’s not a bad choice. I mean, in the end, by giving us the Attack Titan, they dealt a serious blow against Marley. If Kruger had tried to trigger a revolt from inside Marley by himself, it probably would have been crushed with overwhelming force. But we have an army, resources, and distance. There’s a lot more we can achieve with it,” Armin posits.

“Then why did my father give me the Attack Titan? Why didn’t he just use it himself?”

“He likely recognised the Colossal and Armoured Titans. It’s possible he believed Marley was going to invade, and he knew there was a chance they might identify him and realise he had a Titan Power. Giving it to you was barbaric, but the safer option.”

“I guess that’s true. I just wonder if there’s something about the Attack Titan that allowed me to activate the power of the Coordinate, before. Some hidden ability I don't know about.” Eren sighs. “I feel like I’m missing something.”

“Honestly? Me too,” says Armin. He’s slunk down to sit on the far wall, facing the divider between their two cells. “I’m grateful for all the information Dr. Yeager left us, but it feels almost like it’s given us more questions than answers.”

“There’s no point wasting sleep over it now. I’m sure Hange-san and the others who are going through the journals again will pick up some clues,” Mikasa says, voice firm. “Everyone, let’s get some rest. You should be getting some rest too, Armin. You’ve overstayed your guard shift.”

Mikasa has been hovering more, since they tried to take back Wall Maria. Eren gets it in a way. Armin almost died. When you’ve lost as many people as Eren and Mikasa have, every subsequent blow hits harder than the last. Eren doesn’t begrudge her her concern, but he wishes she would look after herself, too. The fact that she knows Armin overstayed his shift means she’s likely not been sleeping either. 

“Mikasa,” Eren asks. “You okay?”

“Yes, Eren. I’m fine. Goodnight.”

He rolls his eyes at her predictable response. He supposes she’s right anyway. While they’re stuck in here, there’s nothing to be done but rest. Eren looks down at his hands. There’s some phantom pain in the right one, from when he fell from the Wall and had to brace himself. The actual injury has long healed, of course, before he even hardened his skin to pull that final trick on Bertolt. But the echo of pain remains.

It’s still hard to believe he was flung by a 60-metre-tall Titan into Wall Maria, and then fell all 50 metres down. It’s always been a struggle somewhat, acknowledging the pain from his wounds in battle but knowing there’s no point in reacting to it because his body will heal it anyway. It feels almost surreal, that he could have endured so much of that pain; pain unlike any he has ever felt in his life, and have absolutely nothing on his body to prove it was real. Nothing to show for it. 

Eren supposes in another world, where the walls and the titans never existed, it would be twisted to wish for scars. But he remembers nights in cadet training, when the instructors would show off the myriad patterns that were raised across their skin. In the Survey Corps, scars are proof that you fought well, and though the enemy was strong, you were stronger. Eren, deprived of scars as he is, has always felt that others have paid the price for his victories over and over again. He wants to show them that he has bled too, that they’re not alone in this. Now, with their numbers down to the single digits, he wants that to be true more than ever. 

“Eren,” Mikasa scolds again. “Go to sleep.”

He sighs, but acquiesces. It doesn’t take long for him to fall back asleep. His dreams remain the same, disjointed flashes from the last few weeks. Slicing through the nape of the Colossal Titan, begging for Armin’s life, flying through the air. 

And a dusty old picture of a family, with a young, eerily familiar son. 

Morning dawns much the same as the sun sets in an underground dungeon, but Eren’s soldier's body is conditioned to rise early anyway. He rolls out of bed and stretches, thoughts still consumed with their conversation from the night before. He leans against the wall and massages his right hand in slow circles to stave off the awkward phantom pain.

He knows that the Power of the Founding Titan can only be unlocked by someone with royal blood. But from his father’s account of his meeting with Eren Kruger, the First King’s Vow prevents any royal descendants from using it. So Eren knows he can’t simply suggest Historia eat him, even if she would agree to it this time. But Eren did manage to utilise the ability for a brief period of time, meaning there is some way to overcome the blood condition. Maybe he has to picture a royal when he screams? He can’t say for sure that’s what he was doing, but he isn’t going to rule it out.

And if royal blood is somehow linked to the Power of the Titans, what does that mean for someone who is a royal, and is a titan, but not the Founding Titan? How many of Zeke’s abilities can be attributed to the Beast Titan, and how many are a gift of his blood?

And really, maybe Eren is just a little upset. The Beast Titan has an astounding number of abilities, the Female Titan can mimic other abilities, even the Colossal Titan has a special steam attack. Eren can’t even talk in Titan form! Hell, Eren couldn’t even harden his skin until he drank that vile of titan spinal fluid Historia’s father had. There must be some ability the Attack Titan has. It frankly isn’t even the best offensive titan, if he’s being honest. Why is it even called that?

“The Attack Titan…”

“What are you doing?” 

Eren jumps. Hange, Levi and Armin are standing outside his cell door, dressed in full gear. They’re staring at him with varying degrees of curiosity and concern. Hange-san is, naturally, the most inquisitive. 

“Commander Hange! I didn’t see you.” 

“What were you doing?”

“What? I wasn’t doing anything.”

“You definitely were. I saw you. You were doing this.” They lean back against the wall, wiping their expression off their face and staring intently into the distance. They hold their right hand gingerly in their left. Their voice drops theatrically. “The Attack Titan…”

Eren splutters. “I- I wasn’t doing that!”

“Yes, you were! I saw you! Levi, Armin, you guys saw him, right?” they demand. Eren feels red creep up his cheeks. “What were you thinking about?”

“Nothing, it’s not important!”

“Leave him alone, Hange. He’s a 15 year old boy, he’s probably going through a phase,” Captain Levi says. Eren wants to die. He can hear Mikasa’s muffled laughter from the next cell over.

“What phase?”

“I’ll explain later, Hange-san. It’s not right to explain it in front of him,” Armin adds solemnly.

“What! Armin! Just- just shut up! What are you guys even doing here anyway?”

Captain Levi pulls up the edge of his cloak and reveals a ring of keys. “We’re busting you out.” 

“I thought I was supposed to be disciplined for another ten days?"

“We had a talk with Premier Zachary, so don’t worry about it. We can’t really keep the heroes who vanquished the Colossal Titan inside a cell forever. The people would revolt against us,” Hange jokes.

“Besides, I think what Hange just did counts as punishment enough,” Levi adds. Behind him, Armin coughs out what sounds suspiciously like a laugh. “I’m sure you’ve been adequately disciplined and know to never disobey your superior officer again.”

Levi unlocks the door to their cells and Eren pretends he isn’t immensely grateful. He’s ready to be out and helping and doing something. He sees Mikasa emerge from her cell. He notes the pallor of her skin and the way her dress hangs awkwardly off her frame. He knows now that his earlier concern was valid.

“Mikasa, did you lose weight?” He frowns. “We had plenty to eat, though.”

Armin turns an assessing gaze on her as well. “He’s right, Mikasa. You’re paler than before, too.”

“I’m fine,” Mikasa dismisses. “You look well, Eren.”

He supposes he does, given his body is incapable of functioning at less than optimal conditions before it attempts to heal itself. Mikasa has no such luxury, yet she fusses over him anyway. Eren wishes he found it less frustrating. 

He opens his mouth to say more, but Hange cuts him off. “Well, you’ll have to catch up on sleep later, Mikasa. Hurry and get dressed. We’ve been summoned for a special council.”

“By whom?”

The edges of Captain Levi’s lips curl. “The Queen. It seems Her Majesty has come to Trost.”

In no time at all, they’re dressed, stuffed with military rations and sitting in a courtroom that seems obscenely bright compared to the cell he just came from. The galley is filled to the brim with government and military officials. Eren and the others sit in pews in the middle of the room, where previously only the highest ranking members of the Survey Corps would sit. He supposes there are so few of them now that they all technically hold some rank or another. On a dais in the front of the room are several senior military officials, alongside Premier Zackly and Queen Historia.

“Shall we get this going?” Hange-san asks, shuffling papers on the desk in front of them.

Zackly clears his throat, smacks the gavel down, and the council begins. 

“This council has been called into session to discuss the contents of the following three journals: The Early Life of Grisha Yeager, Our Knowledge of The Titans and Their History, and The World Outside The Walls. The only people aware of the existence of these journals are currently those sitting in this room. These journals were recovered through the efforts of nine living Scouts and 199 others who gave their lives. Today, and in the Queen’s presence, I would like to assess our situation and establish an agreement in terms of our course of action. Scout Commander Hange Zoe, you may speak.”

“Thank you, sir.” Hange-san stands up. “I’d like to begin by following your example and acknowledging that the Survey Corps has lost many lives in pursuit of these journals, including our former Commander Erwin Smith. But in exchange for their sacrifice, we have retaken Wall Maria and stolen the power of the Colossal Titan." A rumble of approval from the galley. 

"But that does not mean we are safe. Those of us who live within these walls remain in a precarious position. It would be a relief if the titans were the only enemies we faced. However, the truth is that our enemies are fellow humans. You could even say, our enemy is the rest of the world.  

According to these journals, we’re a special race of people, known as the Subjects of Ymir, who can turn into Titans. We once controlled the largest empire on Earth; the Eldian Empire. There’s a belief in the wider world that we may one day rule again. That’s why the rest of the world wishes to eradicate us for good. Grisha Yeager was entrusted with the power of the Attack Titan and sent to reclaim the power of the Founding Titan from the Reiss family. The royal family of the Walls, though they possessed Titan Powers, were unable to make use of it due to the First King’s vow, renouncing war. Dr Yeager achieved his goal and passed the power of the Founding Titan on to his son, Eren. However, in order to wield the power of the Founding Titan, it must be in the possession of someone with royal blood…”

Eren tunes out the rest of Hange’s speech as he contemplates their words. The power of the Founding Titan. The Coordinate. The ability to create and command Pure Titans. Zeke’s ability to do this must stem from his royal blood. Eren wonders though, if the royal must become a titan in order for the ability to manifest itself. If Zeke isn’t the Founding Titan, but he can exercise it’s ability anyway, clearly royal blood is more powerful than it seems. 

Is it just that Eren must come into contact with royal blood in order to trigger it? He thinks back to when he was able to manifest the ability, after Reiner and Bertolt had betrayed them in Wall Rose, and can’t find a single time he made contact with Historia. Once Ymir had caught her, the others had kept Eren captive against the chest of the Armoured Titan. There was no way they touched. 

In fact, the only people Eren had touched between being captured and triggering the ability were Ymir, Reiner, Bertolt and Mikasa. And, he supposes, that smiling titan he had punched.

That smiling titan… 

For so long, Eren has been consumed by hate for the titans. That titan in particular, with its broad grin etched with rage in his memory. His first glimpse of horror was when that titan ate his mother. He wonders idly if the titan he punched had been the same one.

All titans were once humans. And when Eren really thinks about it, no two titans ever looked quite the same. Similar in height sure, but their features always differed in some way. With a shudder, Eren remembers Ragako. They had concluded that titans came from humans long before they discovered his father’s journals based on resemblance alone. 

Several images flicker quickly through Eren’s mind. His brain links them together before his consciousness catches up. A small sketch of Connie’s parents. An old photograph of his father’s first family. 

A blonde, blue-eyed woman. A smiling titan with the same hair and eyes. Dina Fritz. The smiling titan. Dina Fritz, the smiling titan.

“That’s it!” Eren yells, standing up from his seat. 

Eerie silence meets his call. He snaps abruptly back to reality. From the first pew, Captain Levi heaves a sigh. Hange-san turns slowly to face him. “Eren?” they ask. “What is it?”

“Umm,” says Eren, mortified. He isn’t sure if he should share this information in front of everyone in the council. He has no way of determining its validity. They didn’t exactly manage a sketch of the smiling titan before the other ones ate it. “N-nothing.” He says and promptly sits.

Hange blinks. “Ah... Right. Interesting.” They turn to face the dais. “My apologies. He’s in some sort of phase now where he randomly stands up and yells things.” 

Historia coughs politely into a closed fist. Premier Zackly blinks. “I see. How unfortunate. He is around that age, I suppose.” Eren splutters.

Armin leans towards him from his right. “Eren, what is it?” He whispers.

Eren shakes his head and mouths back “later”. He’d be grateful for Armin’s help. While Eren and Mikasa have been stuck in a cell to ‘think through their disciplinary issues’, Armin has had time between his shifts to read through the journals. If there’s some way to prove what Eren suspects, Armin will think of it. 

“Anyway, as I was saying,” Hange clears their throat, “the threat of the wider world, and particularly the nation of Marley, cannot be ignored. We have already fallen victim to their attacks before, and paid the price dearly when we lost Wall Maria. For now, the enemy’s recent defeat and their assumption that Eren can manifest the ability of the Founding Titan will hold them back. But it is a temporary measure. We must be prepared for an eventual confrontation with hostile nations.”

There is a beat of silence as everyone processes Hange’s words. Hostile nations. It seems almost laughable to think titans were the preferred option, but knowing titans are merely weapons of a more menacing, more human enemy? Eren can’t really believe it, but he would probably pick plain old titans. 

Premier Zackly clears his throat. “You say the enemy suffered a defeat, Scout Commander Hange, but it was no easy victory for us either. The Survey Corps was almost entirely decimated in this operation. If war comes sooner rather than later, how will we face this enemy?”

Hange clasps their hands behind their back. “We propose a multi-pronged approach. First, securing Wall Maria must be our top priority. If we are to prepare for a war, we cannot ignore the resources within it. To eliminate any titans trapped within, we suggest a temporary reallocation of Garrison and Military Police soldiers to bolster our regiment until such time as the recruitment process is complete.”

Immediately, the gallery breaks into fervent whispers. “Excuse me, Commander Hange.” Eren recognises the man speaking as Commander Nile, head of the Military Police. “But should we not be consolidating our numbers and doubling down on the interior in preparation for this threat?” 

“You would say so, Nile. But the enemy will not care how many walls you retreat behind,” says Commander Pyxis. “The Garrison will gladly lend its soldiers.”

“This is not as easy a task as you-"

Historia says, “I don’t see why not.” The gallery falls silent. Eren marvels at how confident she sounds now, at how much she's changed from the girl he remembers. “Commander Hange is right. And besides, these Walls will become too crowded whether there’s a war or not. Our first priority must be to secure and fortify Wall Maria. Commander Nile, your queen requests that you send soldiers to assist in the Survey Corps’ efforts.”

Commander Nile frowns, but bows his head. “It is as you wish, Your Highness.”

“Please continue, Scout Commander Hange.”

“Yes, thank you, Your Majesty. Our second investment must be in the research and development of more technologically advanced weaponry, specifically anti-human weaponry…”

And so they set to action. It takes them a month to organise themselves into mixed-regiment military units, before embarking for the titan-infested enclosure of Wall Maria. The Garrison holds fairly experienced soldiers, especially after the battles at Trost and Wall Rose before. But for most of the Military Police, this would be their first mission outside the Interior and their first encounter with the titans. 

Though their fear is palpable, their losses end up being much less than expected. It is sometimes easy to forget that they needed to rank in the Top 10 of their recruitment year to even qualify for the Military Police. They assist in weakening and distracting the titans as more experienced soldiers rush in for the kill. Eren finally gets the chance to rack up his ODM kill count. 

They also experiment briefly with Armin’s Colossal Titan and learn valuable tactical information. He ends up being less than effective in a hand to hand fight with the titans, and the most he can do is walk in a straight line as soldiers herd the titans into his path. They find instead that his most effective tactic is rushing into a horde and transforming there, instantly obliterating everything in the vicinity. Still, when he controls the amount of steam he emits, he serves as an effective mobile base to launch off of with ODM gear, which proves especially helpful in more open spaces with little structures to manoeuvre around with. 

Comparatively, their experiments with Eren’s Founding Titan abilities are much less successful. He explains his earlier inference about Dina Fritz, and Armin is quick to agree that it’s the most logically sound theory they have thus far to explain Eren’s only successful attempt at manifesting the Coordinate power. Armin was also able to find an entry in Dr Yeager’s journals that contained a brief description of Dina’s transformation and the resulting titan. It matched their memories of the smiling titan, and it was agreed that Eren’s hypothesis was valid.

They end up drawing vials of Historia’s blood, which Connie jokingly says is more valuable than gold, and smear it around Eren’s body at different points in his transformation. They start with painting his human form, which does nothing. They smear it on him after he’s transformed into his titan form, which is equally worthless. They even paint his human face with it and watch him transform, hoping the fact that his titan body connects to his face will somehow trick his titan into believing he’s ingested the blood. It’s futile. 

“I should just drink it,” says Eren, even as he makes a face. 

They’re currently huddled on top of Wall Maria, having a mid-operation strategy meeting. It has taken them four months to clear out most of the territory, until all that remains to be reclaimed are the old three outposts that were abandoned, evacuated or decimated after the Wall fell. 

Eren has sealed the hole leading into the rest of Wall Maria with his hardened titan skin. They’re poised to begin clearing out the Quinta district, which managed to defend itself for a while as a sovereign stratocracy after Wall Maria fell. Cut off from the necessary resources provided by the interior, they were eventually overrun by titans. Signs of the bloody battle litter the city. Still, Hange and Armin are eager to recover whatever evidence they can as to how the city managed to survive as long as it did. For that, they need to limit the collateral damage as much as possible. A goal easily achieved if Eren could just command the titans to die. But he can’t.

“We can’t risk Historia’s blood triggering the First King’s Vow on you if you ingest it.” Armin shakes his head. “It’s too risky.”

“Can’t we just, I don’t know, bleed him out after?” Jean shrugs. “Rinse out all of Historia’s blood until it’s just his again.” 

“How will we know when to stop, though? What if we keep thinking there’s still some of her blood and he just continuously… bleeds?” Connie asks, perturbed.

“That’s a good question, Connie,” Mikasa says, glaring at Jean. Her face is doing that thing where it clenches so hard it forms additional shadows across her eyes.

Jean catches sight of her expression, and desperately waves his hands in front of his face. “It was just a suggestion!” 

“A bad one.”

Eren sighs. “Honestly, I’m willing to try it. We’ve exhausted literally every other option.” Mikasa turns her glare on him, but it has a significantly weaker impact on Eren than it does on Jean. He sighs again.

“Maybe the journal was right, Eren. Maybe the only way to trigger the ability is for you to come into contact with a titan of royal blood,” Hange notes. 

“We can’t turn Her Majesty into a titan, though,” Armin says. “Which leaves us with the Beast Titan, but I doubt he’s willing to help us.”

“Even if he was, I’d rather just kill him and be done with it,” Captain Levi snarls.

“Levi’s right, in a way. The main reason why we desperately need Eren’s ability is to combat Zeke’s. If Zeke wasn’t able to mimic the abilities of the Founding Titan so effectively, the titans wouldn’t be much of a threat. It’s not like we plan to create any titans of our own.” Hange mutters despondently.

Connie glares. “No, we don’t.” Hange’s expression turns sheepish. 

It’s been a point of contention within the Survey Corps. Hange argues that they could turn prisoners on death row into titans, using Eren or Armin’s spinal fluid. A rival titan army to release on Marley’s soldiers if they ever come knocking. Provided, of course, that Eren is able to master the power of the Coordinate. 

The others are not so convinced. Armin wouldn’t rule out the option, but he thinks there are too many unknowns. There’s no guarantee Zeke can’t overpower whatever control Eren might have. The last thing they want is a screaming match between the brothers over who gets to control whose titans. Connie thinks the entire idea is barbaric. Eren supposes he has the most grounds to feel that way. His entire family and village were turned into titans, hostile and doomed to die. Even if they were the worst of humanity within the walls, dooming them to pseudo cannibalism for the rest of their life? Connie thinks it would make them no better than Marley, if they turned their own people, no matter how evil, into monsters.

Eren silently agrees with him. Logically, releasing a horde of titans to fight Marley’s seems fair. But his earlier hate for the titans feels oddly misplaced now, knowing what he does. These titans were once people who were rebels, heroes in their own right, or victims of unjust punishments. Their compulsion to eat is in the hopes that one day they’ll eat someone like Eren, and be able to recover their humanity, as Ymir did. It’s still monstrous, but now it also seems so sad. Eren finds more often than not that he’s cutting napes as a warped act of mercy. All those people, trapped and waiting to die. He doesn’t want to be a part of any organisation that robs people of their freedom so completely. 

“I wonder…” says Sasha. “What if we trapped a regular titan and injected them with Historia’s blood? And Eren touched that titan?”

Eren scratches his head. “I don’t know… That doesn’t really seem feasible. We’d have to drag that titan around with us wherever we go into battle.”

“And make sure it isn’t killed or set loose during the battle,” adds Captain Levi.

“I think Sasha is on to something, though,” Hange says. They’ve crossed their arms and are cradling their chin in their right hand. “What if we can trick Eren’s titan into believing the blood he’s touching is titan blood?”

“You mean like mixing Historia’s blood with titan spinal fluid?” Armin asks. He’s got that look on his face, like he’s on the verge of discovery. “It would have to be mine, Eren's titan would probably recognise its own.”

Eren scrunches up his nose. “And then, what? Paint it on me, again?”

“We’d probably have to repeat the same experiments again, yes.”

Eren heaves a sigh. He uncurls from where he was sitting cross-legged and stretches. “Alright, it’s worth a shot. I’m ready to finally figure this out.” He settles his hands on his hips. 

“Sasha, go inform the squads that we’re putting clean up duty on hold while we run through the experiments. They can get started on dinner or something while they’re free.” Hange says, waving their hand in the air as if shooing away a fly. “Tell them to cut back on the liver if they’re making stew. Last night’s meal tasted like the inside of a titan’s stomach.”

“You know, I’m starting to see why they didn’t want to help us with this,” Levi remarks dryly. 

“What do you mean, Levi? This cooking duty is sanctioned by Her Majesty the Queen!”

“You’re taking it too far, crazy.”

The others leave them to their bickering. Sasha waves them goodbye as she goes to deliver the news, comments politely rescinded. Armin briefs Jean and Mikasa on where to extract the spinal fluid from as Eren goes and fetches their case full of Historia’s blood vials and syringes. He’s already wrinkling his nose at the idea of it painted on him again. Connie and Sasha had tried to make him feel better about it, making jokes about war paint and how it brought out the colour of his eyes. They’re insane and he hates it. It makes his skin itchy. 

Thoroughly briefed, Armin nods at the others once and then takes a running jump off the near side of the Wall. There’s that now familiar crack of lightning and burst of too bright light and then the Colossal Titan is swirling into existence. Eren settles the instinctual reaction of fear and anger that swells up in him as he hands a couple of syringes to Mikasa and Jean. They wait for Armin to fully manifest and then jump onto him. Hange-san ceases their argument with Levi to clamber onto the titan in front of them and direct the operation. In a matter of moments, they’ve successfully withdrawn several syringes of translucent purplish fluid and Armin is exiting his form.

Connie helps Eren empty some blood into a larger vial as Hange makes their way back to them with the syringes. Eren watches as the spinal fluid is mixed in with the blood and swirled around. Someone hands Hange a paintbrush. 

“Alright, Eren. Buckle up. We might as well paint it on your face straight away this time.” 

Eren braces himself for the odd feeling of having blood painted on his face. The substance is tackier this time, and it takes Hange some time to coat enough of his face in it. If he hadn’t been through so much bloodshed, he’d probably gag at the smell. 

“Okay! Whenever you’re ready, feel free to scream,” says Hange. They’ve started to shake with excitement. Eren is reminded of when he first sat down with Hange-san and asked about their experiments, way back when he first joined Squad Levi. Fondness curls in his chest. Some things never change.

Eren obediently marches himself over to the section of Wall that overlooks the overrun Quinta District. Further down the Wall are the borrowed Garrison and MIlitary Police soldiers, staring curiously at these odd Survey Corps. Some of them make horrified faces at the sight of him. Eren brushes their looks aside. 

He takes a moment, looking out into the district. The titans have gathered at the base of the wall, reaching upwards with their huge limbs to try and grab them. He concentrates his mind on a single thought: Kill each other, kill each other, kill each other.

He closes his eyes. He inhales, raises his fist, and brings it down with a scream.

Instantly, he feels the painted skin on his face contract slightly. His brain supplies an image of glowing, golden synapses. 

He opens his eyes. The titans aren’t moving to kill each other. In fact, they aren’t moving at all. They’re frozen, transfixed, staring at him from the bottom of the Wall. From behind him, Eren hears Armin panting. When he catches his breath, he comes to stand beside him. Armin’s eyes are sparkling. “Eren, I- I felt something.”

Eren presses his hand against his own forehead. “I felt it, too.”

Captain Levi kicks a rock down from the Wall onto the titans below. They don’t budge. “These guys seem to be reacting to it.”

Hange-san is jumping in place. “Amazing, Eren! You’re amazing. Did you tell them to stop moving?”

“No,” Eren says, frowning. “I told them to kill each other.”

Hange-san stops jumping and frowns. “Huh. Maybe the command was too complex?”

“I commanded them to kill something before, though. When I punched Dina Fritz’s titan.”

“Try yelling again?”

Eren does. There’s that strange image of firing synapses in his mind again. The titans shuffle, and then still. No dice.

“Maybe the complexity of the commands is limited by the amount of blood?” Hange posits. 

Eren frowns, but stays obediently still as Jean empties the rest of the blood-spinal-fluid mixture over his head. It’s dripping from his hair and he fights the urge to shake his head like a dog. Instead, he opens his mouth, careful to avoid accidentally consuming any of the mixture, and tries again. Klll each other, kill each other, kill each other.

The titans move jerkily, like they’re reaching for each other. Then they pause with their arms raised, in strange aborted movements. Eren frowns. Armin groans from behind him. “Armin,” Eren asks. “What do you see when I scream?”

“I don’t see anything. It’s more like I feel your will in my head, but it’s far away and faint. Just this detached feeling of anger.” Armin wrinkles his nose. “Honestly, it’s kind of unpleasant.”

Hange shrugs. “It’s better than we had before. I guess the spinal fluid made a difference? Eren, want to try transforming?”

Eren nods. “I’ll have to do it up here, though. There are too many of them down there.”

“Understood. Try a simpler command this time.”

Eren nods his assent and the others move back so they aren’t caught in the blast. Raising his hand to his mouth, he bites down in a now familiar gesture. In seconds, he’s 15 metres tall. From within the neck of the titan, Eren can detachedly feel the titan flesh connecting to his human body over the mixture. He pictures a new command, sit down, sit down, sit down.

He looks down at the prone titans and roars. 

Something is different. The image of synapses in his mind is clearer this time. He almost thinks he sees himself reflected from different angles in brief snapshots. A lower angle of him standing on top of the Wall. A view of him from on top of it, surrounded by the Survey Corps. A feeling that can only be described as dominating.

A ringing sound in absolute silence, like someone fired an acoustic shot. And then his own voice, sit down, sit down, sit down.

Eren comes back to himself and watches in stunned silence as the titans move to sit down all at once. The smaller ones are crushed beneath the weight of the larger ones as they sit, but they don’t move to struggle free. 

A small ocean of titans, sitting down and staring up at him in wait.

He hears cheers from the top of the Wall. The soldiers are laughing, clutching at each other. Hange-san is screaming, arms wrapped tight around a laughing Armin. Behind them, Eren can see the Garrison and Military Police soldiers staring at the titans in awe. 

Captain Levi launches himself onto his shoulder. He stares down at the docile monsters below. “Good job, brat,” he says. Something in Eren unclenches. He’s done good. He’s finally, finally, done it. It’s been worth it. 

Hange-san makes him try to command them to kill each other again. Eren leans forward and screams the new command, careful not to jostle Levi on his shoulder. The titans waver down below. Some stand, others reach for another while still sitting. Humongous hands close around equally large throats, but none crush down. They stop moving as one.

The soldiers watch from the safety of the wall. The disappointment is palpable. 

“It’s like they’re scared stiff,” Jean mutters.

Sasha fires an arrow down into the horde below. It embeds itself into a 5 metre tall titan on the side of its face, from where it has turned to clamber onto its neighbour. None of the titans move. The impaled titan doesn’t so much as blink, even as blood begins to trickle out of the wound.

“Well,” says Captain Levi. “It’s more fun this way, anyway.”

In a burst of movement, he launches himself off Eren’s shoulder and down into the mass of titans below. They remain prone as he whistles between them, slicing off the napes of a line of sitting titans in under a minute. Even as the dead ones begin to fall, the others remain unmoving. He sees their heads cave under the weight. Mikasa turns to look at Hange, who has yet to recover from their disappointment. She waits a beat for instructions, but when none come, she shrugs and dives down into the fold with Levi.

The others don’t take long to join her, and from further along the Wall, some of the other soldiers join in the clean up. It’s their cleanest battle by far. Eren doesn’t think they’ll lose a single person.

He makes to leave his form and help, but someone lands on his shoulder. “Wait, Eren,” says Hange-san. They rest their elbow against the side of his face. “If you leave your titan and break the connection, they may move again.” Eren exhales and obediently doesn’t move. 

“It’s strange,” Hange continues. “I really thought we’d get it this time. Maybe you just need more practice. But either way, you’ve done well, Eren. Now we know there’s some way for you to access the power of the Founding Titan. We just need to vary the level of connection between you and the blood.” Hange pats his titan’s ginormous ear. “We’ll figure it out.” 

There’s a cloud of steam already filling the air from the decaying titan bodies that obstructs his view of the horde. There’s cheers and the odd laugh from down below, so Eren supposes things must be going well. More soldiers jump down from the camp on the Wall to take the chance at prone target practice. 

It’s less than half an hour before Captain Levi lands on the wall in front of him and Hange again. “Coast is clear. We’ve eliminated all of them.” He’s immaculate, clearly unwounded from the fight. All the titan blood must have evaporated off his uniform already. He sheaths his blades. Eren takes that as his cue to emerge from his titan body. He kneels down so Hange can jump off and then dismounts.

Levi waits until he’s beside him before remarking, “If you keep this up, Eren, I’ll be out of a job.”

It startles a laugh out of him. “If that happens, sir, Hange-san owes you one hell of a retirement package.”

Hange hums. “That’s true, Levi. What will you accept payment in? Cleaning supplies? Fresh sheets?”

“The blood of my enemies.”

“No can do. It evaporates.” 

“Fine. I’ll also accept incense and virgin sacrifices.”

“Done.” Hange claps Eren on the shoulder. “I volunteer Eren as tribute.”

Eren splutters. Underneath the blood paint, his face is red. He’s about to protest when something shocks him. He’s only seen it once, and the sight still stirs something like awe in him. Levi is laughing. The sun plays with the colours of his hair, turning parts of it brown. His face seems so much gentler when he laughs. Eren forgets what he meant to say. Levi says, “I think you’ll be ousted for harassment before you can get around to paying me, four-eyes.” 

“Somewhere, Erwin is shaking his head at me.” Hange chuckles in agreement. They let go of Eren to sling an arm around his shoulders. “Anyway, Eren. What we mean to say is that this is a big help. I’m certain taking back the rest of the Wall will be a breeze. Then it’s back to the interior to report to Her Majesty on our success, then a special trip.”

“A special trip?”

“Yeah,” says Hange, smiling. “You wanted to see the ocean, right?”

Which leaves them here, by the ocean. After clearing out the titans within Wall Maria, they encountered surprisingly few titans left outside the Wall. Hange posits that most of them would have flocked to Wall Rose to get closer to humans, meaning they dispensed with the bulk of the titans in cleaning out Wall Maria. Between the nine of them, they managed to cut down whatever threats there were on the way to the ocean fairly quickly.

Eren gets in some more practice with the Founding Titan’s abilities. They learn that there are limits to his power. The titans must be within 30 metres of his location for it to take effect, and he can only give single step commands. If he wants the titans to kill themselves, he has to give sequential commands. For instance: Stop moving, clutch your throat, press down.

It’s not ideal, for sure. Nothing compared to the carnage he was able to unleash instantaneously when he made contact with Dina Fritz’s titan. But much better than not having the ability at all. After their discovery at Quinta district, they suffered no casualties in clearing out the other districts. Even as they made their journey to the ocean, Eren was able to halt whatever titans they were facing in their tracks and take them down himself. The others rarely left their horses. Humanity is in a stronger position now than it's ever been in before. 

They make camp on the beach, on a little cliff overlooking the ocean. They’re so far away from the Walls now, Eren can’t even see them. They sit in a loose circle around a bright campfire, full from dinner. 

“So,” says Hange-san. “We can’t ascertain this for sure, because the area outside the Walls is vast, but it seems to be fairly safe out here. I feel confident in saying that we’ve eliminated most of the titans on the island.”

“It’s weird,” remarks Jean, “I thought there would be more of them. In Trost, and the other battles we fought so far, there always seemed to be so many.”

“From what Eren remembers Ymir saying, she wandered the island for 60 years in her titan form, meaning titans don’t age. It’s likely we’ve been facing titans that were created gradually over the last hundred years. I doubt Marley creates thousands all at once,” Armin says.

“Which means, what?” Connie asks, hesitant. “We don’t need the Walls anymore?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” says Armin. “We can’t say for sure that Marley won’t create any more . Especially now that they know we know that they exist, they’ll want to keep us busy while they figure their next steps out.”

“Like some twisted form of a vanguard unit.” Jean shudders.

“We can’t afford to just stay within the Walls, though. If they do send a force, we might not be able to tell until it’s too late," Sasha argues. 

“But… we can’t just ask people to leave the Walls,” says Mikasa. “I can’t see anyone wanting to leave and live out in the open right away, even if we tell them it’s safe.”

Hange hums. “You’re both right. We need an advance position, somewhere nearer to the ocean. Like this cliff. If Marley does come for us, they’ll have to come across the ocean. We need a fortified stronghold to give us advanced warning and mount an initial offensive.”

“You don’t mean another set of Walls?” Armin gapes. 

“That’s exactly what I mean! But on a smaller scale. A walled, satellite district.”

Eren is stunned. Building outside the Walls? Building walls outside the Walls? He can’t imagine it. Sure, they’re camping out in the open now, with just tents. But it’s nighttime, they’re soldiers and they have two titan shifters in their number. The threat level for them is low. But to undertake a project on the scale Commander Hange is suggesting would require dozens of civilians. Construction workers, project overseers, supply lines. It would be a massive undertaking. “Would anyone even commit to this?” Eren asks.

“The government has to. Sasha was right- if we wait for them to come to the Walls, it’ll be too late. We still don’t have an accurate understanding of Marley’s technological capabilities. They could have weapons we can’t even imagine, even beyond titan powers. We have no room to evacuate civilians if they surround the Walls,” Hange explains. They sigh tiredly. “As for civilian contractors, well… I have a favour to call in with the Reeves company.”

“I can see the appeal,” Levi comments. “If the force within the fort engages with the enemy on first, we’ll be able to distract them while we dispense another force from within the Walls to flank them. It puts us in a fighting position.”

“It’ll be incredibly difficult to construct, though,” Armin says, looking a little sick at the thought of all the planning already. “We’ll need to secure a transport line that will double as an evacuation route. We’ll have to dispatch troops to guard every shipment, and the main construction site. Plus, we’ll need to form some kind of temporary structure at the site itself to house the workers. It’ll take too much time for them to move back and forth.”

“We haven’t even started recruiting,” Jean groans. He looks like a man who knows he’ll get no form of rest for the foreseeable future. Eren can relate.

“After our recent success, I doubt we’ll have much trouble getting people to sign up,” Hange says.

“That’s true,” Sasha notes. “Some of the soldiers who fought with us to secure Wall Maria told me they’re thinking of joining up for real.”

“There you go! One problem solved.”

Levi snorts. He looks up at Hange. The firelight dances across his face. His expression is sardonic. “So, that’s our next step then, Scout Commander Hange? A base outside the Walls? Sounds easy enough.”

Hange places their hands behind them on the sand and leans back. “Yes, a lovely little city.” They smile. “We’ll call it… Fort Erwin.”

Chapter Text

As they predicted, it turns out that planning to construct a fort outside the Walls is a massive headache. The talks have been dragging on for weeks, despite Historia’s firm efforts to mediate. It’s a weight off their shoulders that the government understands its strategic value and agrees it’s a necessity. Still, Eren finds himself constantly surprised by the sheer number of things humans find worthy of argumentation. Every time they seem to come to an agreement, the talks dissolve again.

The Survey Corps ends up having to make concessions, including on where the fort should be built and its general size. It’s currently slated to be built closer to Wall Maria than originally intended to cut back on transportation costs, and about two thirds the size Hange wanted it to be. He supposes it's a victory that they’re even willing to consider it. Eren tries not to concern himself with it too much. He’s a soldier. He’ll go where he’s ordered to. 

In the midst of all the negotiations, he quietly turns sixteen. They celebrate it with a little fanfare. Jean, Connie, Sasha and Floch bake him a cake that tastes good but looks awful. Historia writes him a heartfelt letter on very expensive paper. Commander Hange and Captain Levi give him a new pair of boots. 

Mikasa’s gift to him is more heartfelt. She presents him with a thick, dark leather cord. Hanging off of it is a familiar ornate key.

Eren’s hand flies to his neck, where he can feel an echo of its weight. In all the commotion and revelations since they unlocked the basement, he hadn’t realised that he'd never brought back the key to the basement from that ruined house in Shiganshina until it was too late. He’d thought he had lost it forever.

Mikasa moves to drape it over his neck. “I’m sorry I took so long to return it. I couldn’t find a chain until we got back into the city.” She smiles at him, and it’s fonder than he expects. “I hope you like it. I thought it would be a good gift, so that you don’t forget that I- that I’m-” She stops herself. Jean lets out a morose sigh from somewhere behind her, but Eren doesn’t pay him much attention.

He’s too busy staring at her, puzzling over that last, unfinished sentence. He remembers himself at nine years old, angry and protective. Wrapping a red scarf around a small, shivering child. Mikasa still has that scarf wrapped around her neck. A token of families found, and a desire to take care of each other. 

Ah. He smiles at her, confident he understands her meaning. She meant to say so you don’t forget that I’m still your sister. She’s trying to reinforce that she’s here for him, that he still has family.

She’s his only real family left, really. Zeke certainly doesn’t count, murderous monster that he is. Blood doesn’t hold much weight against the memories he and Mikasa share. She’s the only one who remembers his mother and father as clearly as he does. Who remembers exactly how to differentiate his mother’s naptime snores between she’s probably faking to catch us sneaking out and she is SO asleep, go now, go now. He smiles back at her, his sister in all but name. He’s so grateful that he has her, that he still has someone to call kin. He doesn’t say it enough. 

“Mikasa,” says Eren, with rare sincerity, “thanks. I really like it.”

He tilts his head curiously at the blush that crawls up her cheeks. She looks down quickly, using her hair to shield her face from view. He frowns. Maybe she has a fever? “Are you okay? What’s wrong with you?”  

“N-nothing. I’m happy you like it, Eren.”

“Of course I like it!” He huffs. “I wore it around for years.”

“I know,” Mikasa says. From behind the curtain of her bangs, he can see her smile. He knocks his shin against hers. 

At heart, Eren will always be that scrawny, poor kid from Shiganshina, so he’s truly thrilled with all the gifts. He’s grateful for all the attention from everyone, too…  but it’s the gift from Armin that he secretly cherishes the most, though it’s probably the least flashy gift of all. 

Armin presents him with a small, unassuming wooden box. Nestled inside is a thick, circular seashell in vibrant colours. Armin explains that it’s called a conch shell, and that he took the largest one he could find from the beach. He urges Eren to hold the open side up to his ear. When Eren does, he finds he has to hold his breath, overcome with emotion. 

For his sixteenth birthday, Armin has given him the ocean.

The sound transports him back to the beach instantly. If he closes his eyes, he finds he can picture with perfect clarity the waves crashing against the shore, the endless mirror of the horizon. He hugs Armin so tight that he starts to complain of suffocation but Eren doesn’t release him for a while anyway. In moments like this, it catches him off guard, just how grateful he is that Armin is alive. 

It’s the best birthday he’s had in ages, even though he only gets a few hours free at night to spend with everyone. They’ve been recruiting intensively in the last few weeks, while Hange-san is in talks. They take turns to go out in the street and hand out flyers, and to write out the pitch speech Hange will have to give to the 105th Training Corps at their graduation (It’s a surprisingly arduous task. Sasha keeps suggesting inappropriate puns about eating, and Eren’s been banned from contributing because apparently his suggestions are too fatalistic. Not that he cares. At all). 

He hasn’t had much time to think about it, but really, so much has changed in the last year. He feels more in control of his anger now than he ever has in his life. Partially, he thinks it’s because some of his questions about the world have been answered. He understands who the enemy is and the steps they can take. He understands some of his own power- he knows he isn’t too weak to fight anymore. And he feels like there is hope in his world for the first time in his life. 

After all, he’s seen the ocean. 

As he lays in bed on the night he turns sixteen, he holds the conch shell up to his ear. He falls asleep that way, listening to the soothing push and pull of hope. He doesn’t have nightmares, that night.

It takes weeks, but the military and government do eventually reach a consensus on how to go about constructing the Fort. They wrap up recruitment around the same time and finally get to air out the old Survey Corps headquarters. It’s been awhile since there was this much buzz and noise around them, and Eren is a little overwhelmed by the sheer number of people wearing his regiment’s colours again. With enough people around now to commit to an actual hierarchical structure, a few of them have received promotions. 

Armin and Jean have been made Squad Leaders, and Sasha is now the interim equine veterinarian. At least until they can find someone else with the training who’s suicidal enough to join them. She, Connie and Eren are the only remaining members of Squad Levi. Mikasa has been placed under Armin’s direct command, and Eren wonders if they’re effectively creating a second Special Operations Squad in preparation of any foreign confrontation. 

Meanwhile, Eren has the dubious pleasure of watching Captain Levi scare the life out of a bunch of snot-nosed recruits from the 105th for their poor cleaning techniques. Eren himself gets no such threats. He’s learnt his lesson after all this time serving under the Captain, yes he has. He knows to dust and scrub the eaves. He’s become such an expert at cleaning that when he gets a nod of approval from Levi after a spot check of his assigned room, he can’t even pretend the relieved tears in his eyes are from the dust.

On their seventh night back in Survey Corps headquarters, the senior eight members are called into a meeting with Commander Hange. They settle into an old conference room on the ground floor as Hange-san spreads out a map along the length of the table. It looks like a map for a city, but it’s not one Eren recognises. It takes him a minute, then he realises with a start that it’s a proposed map of Fort Erwin. On the far right of the map he can see a curved line demarcating the southern edge of Shiganshina. 

“Good, everyone's here," Hange says, clapping their hands. “Let's get started. As you’re all no doubt aware, the operation to construct a fort outside the Walls has received governmental approval. We were forced to make some concessions in the location and size of the fort, but I think it worked to our advantage. The new location is further inland, which means we don't have an easy view of the ocean, but it is adjacent to a suspected stone quarry. A much needed resource for both the construction of the fort and the rebuilding efforts within the Walls.”

Hange draws a rough circle on the eastern side of the fort. “This is the deposit. We will have two civilian teams working simultaneously outside the Walls, one on the construction of the fort, and the other on excavating the stone. With luck, it should be fairly close to the surface. This would offset the costs of the construction significantly. It is also thanks to the existence of the deposit that we’ve managed to secure a commercial construction firm. The Reeves company has agreed to take charge of the excavation and construction, provided they receive eventual ownership of the mining site.” Hange shrugged. “We accepted those terms.”

“Lucky.” Sasha whistles.

“However, before such time as the mine is operational, the construction materials must be ferried from the interior out to the site. Our first order of business is to construct a viable road. We’ve enlisted assistance from the Garrison on this endeavour, and we hope to have a path set up by next week. After which, we must construct a temporary structure to shield and house workers.” 

“How long will that take?” asks Jean.

“Ideally? Minutes.” Their eyes lock with Eren’s across the table. “We’ll use Eren’s hardened titan form as an initial structure.” They ruffle around with a sheaf of papers and extract a rough sketch of what looks like Eren’s titan form, but hunched over on all fours. There are several pillars protruding from the top of his spine that coalesce into some kind of a canopy, effectively creating a two-story structure. 

Eren scratches the top of his head. “I don’t know, Hange-san. I’ve always just kind of… filled up spaces with the hardening ability. I don’t know that I’ll be able to construct that just out in the open.”

They pull out another sketch. It’s the same figure, but this time supported by additional beams and canvas roofing. There appear to be wooden slats slotted into the space between Eren’s suspended torso and the ground that serve as makeshift walls. “Don’t worry. Like I said, this is just temporary. It’s the quickest and most cost-effective solution. If there are any errors, you can just transform again and break them off. The construction team will fix it up.”

Eren feels slightly unsure about the whole thing, but he does agree that it’s probably the easiest solution. Hange moves on.

“We’ll need to divide our forces to accomplish our goals. I’ve decided that Squad Levi will take on escorting duties for the duration of the construction of Fort Erwin. Meanwhile, the rest of us will have to remain here. Armin, Mikasa, your squad will assist me in the research and development of anti-human weaponry. And you’ll take the lead on training, I don’t have the patience for it. Jean, your squad will assist in rebuilding efforts within Wall Maria. Any questions?”

“For the duration of the construction?” Captain Levi asks, eyebrows raised. “Which will take what? Two years?”

“That’s the current proposed timeline, yes.” 

"Commander," begins Armin. "I understand the need to split our forces, but is it really wise to send Eren outside the Walls? In the event of an attack before the Fort is complete, it's unlikely Squad Levi will be able to fend off the attackers on their own. We might lose Eren to the enemy."

"Armin is right. It's too big a risk, Eren should stay in the interior where he's defensible," Mikasa agrees. 

"I understand your concerns, you two, but this is a necessary strategy. Eren's Founding Titan ability allows us to neutralise the titans outside the walls, meaning I can safely expect no casualties on this mission. It also means I can afford to send a smaller force while we focus our efforts elsewhere," Hange explains, voice tired but firm. "Plus, this way Eren can further test the extent of his powers."

"What if they’re attacked and he's captured?” Mikasa presses. “Is that a gamble we're willing to take?"  

"If they are attacked, I trust the other members of Squad Levi to be skilled enough to buy Eren enough time to escape." 

“Commander, with all due respect, there’s only three of them,” Mikasa says. Her expression is the definition of unimpressed.

“There are four of them if you count Eren. And they’re four of my best soldiers! Besides, Eren has powers that he needs to learn how to control outside the Walls.”

"Fine.” She seems to brace herself for what she says next. “Commander, please allow me to rejoin Squad Levi. I can protect Eren."

Eren squawks. He's perfectly capable of defending himself! Hange-san just said so! Armin makes a vaguely offended noise too, because Mikasa basically just tried to ditch his squad. "Mikasa, what…"

"Sorry, Armin. But ensuring Eren's safety must be our top priority. Please consider my request, Commander."

"Denied," Captain Levi drawls, before Hange can say anything. "Don’t underestimate your comrades, brat." He leans forward and braces his forearms on the desk to stare Mikasa down. "You should know by now that there's little my squad won't sacrifice to get the job done." 

"The Captain's right, Mikasa. Sasha and I will be there and we won't let anything happen to Eren." Connie smiles. 

“Yeah, what’s another two years of guard duty? Easy peasy,” Sasha jokes, jabbing at Eren with her exceptionally pointy elbows. Her aim with them is as good as her aim with her bow. Eren’s attempts at dodging are futile.

“No.”

Eren turns to stare at Mikasa. She’s facing the table and the curtain of her hair blocks her face from view. Hange clears their throat. “Is something wrong, Mikasa?”

“You can’t send Eren away. I won’t let you.”

“Mikasa,” cajoles Armin, “I have my doubts too, but we should trust in the others. It will be okay. They’re sending Captain Levi with him.”

“We know how important Eren is, Mikasa. You don’t need to worry,” Sasha adds. 

“Please, Hange-san,” Mikasa still faces the table. “Please, send me with him. I can keep him safe.”

Eren heaves a sigh. Her words rub him the wrong way. He feels newly validated, bolstered by the strides he made in mastering the Founding Titan’s powers, and Hange-san’s trust in him. He understands Mikasa comes from a place of worry, but it rubs him the wrong way. “Enough, Mikasa. I’ll be fine.”

“No, you won’t. I know it.”

“Yes, I will be.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No-”

“-Oi, brats.” Eren jumps at Levi’s snarl. “This isn't a game. You’re soldiers and your commanding officer just gave you your assignments. Your opinion has been noted and disregarded. Figure out whatever is going on between you two on your own time, not here.”

“What Levi means to say,” Hange waves their hands in front of their face, eager to disperse the tension, “is that we’ve already gone over why this is the better option. I understand your concern, Mikasa, but please have faith in your comrades.”

“...Understood.” 

“Alright, everyone. We’ll meet again tomorrow to go over the details of the other operations. Dismissed!” 

Eren rushes to exit the room and waits outside the doors for Mikasa. Captain Levi was right, blunt as he was. Eren has known Mikasa most of his life, and she has always been protective, painfully so, but this is a new level. Though he’s angry, part of him is concerned too. Trying to abandon Armin and arguing with their superior officers in a strategy meeting like that is unprecedented for her. He’s determined to get to the bottom of this, now. 

He sees her familiar bob of black hair emerge from the room. His eyes catch hers and he grabs her wrist to tug her down the corridor. From the corner of his eye, he sees the others watch them go but no one makes a move to stop them. For that matter, neither does Mikasa. Eren guesses she has words for him, too. 

He tugs them into another empty conference room down the hall. There's a single gas lamp on a wooden table, and Eren reaches into his pocket for matches. Mikasa settles herself into a chair and after the lamp is lit, he sits across from her. It’s dim, and the light leaves shadows on her face. He can tell she’s paler that she was. The circles under her eyes are more pronounced. Whatever is bothering her, it’s been eating at her for a while, as Eren suspected. 

He settles his elbows on the table and steeples his fingers. “Alright, out with it. What’s wrong with you?”

She meets his stare. Her face is cold. “You and I both know that sending you outside the Walls is asking for trouble. The safest place you can be is here.”

“Hange-san already explained how they’re going to keep me safe-”

“With three soldiers? That’s hardly enough-”

“Three soldiers and me. I’m not just going to roll over and let Marley take me, if they even bother to cross the ocean again.”

“It’s too much of a risk! You’re our last line of defence. We should be protecting you at all costs.”

Eren scoffs. “Some defence I am! I’m not even sure my grasp on the Power of the Founding Titan is stronger than Zeke’s yet-”

“But Marley doesn’t know that. If one of their scouts catches you outside there, they’ll assume you can’t use it and they’ll figure it out-”

“Or-” Eren cuts her off again. This is the thing about the fights Eren and Mikasa have. They care too much, and they don’t give an inch. They’ve never had an argument without interrupting each other half the time, “-they’ll assume that I’ve mastered it and it’ll buy us some time. I can use the power, I just need more practice, and for that I need titans. We don’t have the resources to catch any and bring them inside the walls, which means I need to be there, outside.”

“Fine.” Mikasa crosses her arms and leans back. Her gaze is cutting. She's so, so stubborn. It’s infuriating because it’s familiar. “Then why can’t they send me with you? Connie or Sasha can train the recruits just as well as I can-”

“We both know that’s not true.” Eren snorts, already picturing that disaster.

“-and everyone here knows I’d lay down my life for you in a heartbeat.” 

Eren takes in a steadying breath. Even after all this time, all the countless lives, this fact has never been easy to voice for him. The unblemished skin on his body seems to mock him, as does the scar on Mikasa’s cheek that she’s never bothered to hide. “As much as I hate to say this… I know Connie, Sasha and Captain Levi would, too. They have before and you know they would again.” He levels his gaze at her, entreating. He can’t help her if she won’t be honest. “Mikasa. What is this really about?”

She looks away. They’re silent for a moment. It’s not in Eren’s nature to be silent, and part of him wants to reach across and shake her, scream at her to hurry up and explain. But he’s older now, they’re both older now. They’ve been through so much together. And he knows that he trusts Mikasa to come clean with him here. He just needs to give her time. 

When she speaks again, her voice is barely above a whisper. “In Shiganshina, when Bertolt kicked you and you went flying… Eren, when you didn’t get up, I thought you were dead. But Armin was convinced you were alive, and he had a plan, and he went to wake you up. Then you fell off the wall and I was terrified that you’d die when you hit the ground. I wanted to help, but I chose to trust in him and to trust in you. I forced myself to focus, even though every instinct in me was telling me to help you. Then you took down the Colossal Titan, and I was so proud-” Here, her voice breaks and she turns to face him. Her eyes are swimming with tears. Something in Eren’s chest clenches. This is another reason he hates their fights. He has never been able to stand it when she cries. “-but then Armin was... Armin was dying.”

She hunches forward on a sob. Her eyes are pleading, guilty and blown wide with an unrecognisable emotion. “And Eren, my heart was crushed. I love Armin, he’s my best friend but… but some small part of me was so, so glad it wasn’t you.” 

Eren sucks in a breath. Mikasa’s face pleads for understanding but he feels frozen. His brain races to process what she’s saying here. She didn’t say a part of me was so, so glad you were okay, she said a part of me was so, so glad it wasn’t you. As in, she would rather Armin have died than him? How? How could she- “How can you say that?” Eren whispers. 

He feels unsettled, like he’s been privy to some kind of blasphemy. It feels blasphemous, what Mikasa said. In Eren’s heart, there is a special place for Mikasa and Armin. They share it, and when he thinks of this space, he feels warm and content and safe. But they are not separate in his mind. To value Mikasa over Armin? He could never. He could never. 

“Eren,” Mikasa says. Here, in this moment, it feels like they are on the precipice of something. His memory itches, this feels familiar. In his mind’s eye, he sees her flush red after he thanks her for his birthday gift. He sees them in the chaos of that bloody battle against Reiner and Bertolt, after he was kidnapped. He sees them on a grassy field of blue flowers, he hears Mikasa saying all I want is to be by your side forever. To have you wrap this scarf around me. He remembers her leaning in and now he wonders why…. Why had she been leaning in- 

“Eren,” Mikasa says again. “Eren, if I lost you… if I lost you, I would have nothing left.”

And suddenly, he understands. 

He wishes, for once in his life, that understanding things made them easier. 

He knows now what Mikasa means. He looks into her eyes again, so achingly familiar to him, and finds he can finally place her expression. It’s adoration, and devotion, and an innocent, tender, romantic love. 

He can never reciprocate. He knows this with certainty. He aches with the injustice of it. Part of him is angry with her (why does she need to ruin things) but he squashes it down with a vengeance. Of all the sins in the world, he refuses to be mad at Mikasa for love.

Underneath the anger is a bone-crushing guilt. There is no avoiding it, not anymore. No more blissful ignorance and convincing himself she loves him as he loves her. They have fallen over the precipice, and Eren knows he will ache from the impact of the fallout. But there is nothing for it anymore. He wants to believe that if this was some other world, where Mikasa had never come to live with him and he had never been raised as her brother, maybe things would have been different. Who can explain how his heart works? But he knows in some quiet, forgotten part of himself that it’s futile. He will never love a woman as Mikasa loves him. 

“Mikasa,” Eren says. His voice is quiet, crushed under the weight of what he will break. “I don’t love you that way.”

She recoils. 

She turns away with her entire body. Her fingers fist in that red scarf. Her legs curl up on the chair and her back hunches over. It looks so wrong. He hates when Mikasa makes herself small. “I’m sorry,” he says, desperately, “I wish I could, but I can’t.”

She doesn’t turn to face him when she speaks. She doesn’t even bother denying the nature of her affections. They’ve well and truly crossed the cliff of blissful ignorance and splattered onto the valley below. “Is it… is it because you’ve never thought of me that way?”

“Partially. I have always, and will always love you as a sister, Mikasa.” Eren’s voice is earnest and he leans forward. “I wasn’t lying when I said I would wrap that scarf around you as many times as you want.” His voice gets quieter and it becomes hard to try and meet her eyes. “But I knew I was different from most people even before I could turn into a titan.” 

She turns to look at him then, her face wet with tears. He wants to turn away from the awkwardness of it all. This isn’t something he’s ever had to explain to himself. But in this space, here, he knows he owes her courage. “Truthfully, I’ve never thought about any woman that way.”

“Oh,” she says softly. Considering. “But I thought… Annie…?”

“Annie?” Eren blinks. “What about Annie?”

“You were always staring at her during training. And when she’d go off with Reiner and Bertolt. I guess I always assumed that you had feelings for her. I mean, in Stohess, you were so hesitant to fight her.”

“I was hesitant because I was in shock, and she was my friend,” Eren corrects. Then he shuffles his feet under the table, his cheeks blooming a little red. “And back when we all were cadets, I wasn’t staring at Annie… I was staring at Reiner.”

“Oh,” she says, mouth gaping in surprise. Her eyes are wide. It’s Eren's turn to feel like he should hunch over, but he won’t. It is not his heart that is being broken, merely opened wide for the first time. “I didn’t… I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, I know.” He scratches at the back of his neck. He’s trying, he really is, but he feels so awkward. 

“When did you know that you…?”

“Honestly? There was a reason I was always yelling at Hannes-san.”

“No.” She gasps. Her expression is so genuine that Eren cracks a smile. 

“Yeah, but if you tell anyone, I’m going to have to kill you.”

Mikasa laughs and then slaps a hand over her mouth. Eren’s grin softens slightly. He knows that while this has been hard for him to admit, he was never at any risk here. Perhaps it’s selfish to feel so safe in this, knowing now the exact shape of Mikasa’s devotion, but he can’t help it. He has always known that whenever it was he finally told her this, that she would love and support him anyway. 

“Why did you never say anything?”

“With everything that’s happened in the last few years, it didn’t seem relevant and I guess I forgot that I never mentioned it.” He crosses his arms over his chest then uncrosses them and shrugs. “Besides, it’s not like we really ever talk about anything. Mostly we just nag at each other about eating and safety.”

Mikasa frowns thoughtfully. “That’s true. You wouldn’t leave me alone for ages after I broke my ribs.”

“Because you kept trying to do push-ups when I left you unsupervised! It was messing with your recovery, and- hey.” Eren glares. “You don’t get to throw stones here. The only reason you broke your ribs is because you took unnecessary risks to try and ‘save’ me.” He does air quotes with his fingers.

“You needed to be saved.”

“I was fine. I would have been fine.” She looks unimpressed. He pins her with his gaze and says, “We met when I saved your life, Mikasa. You always forget.”

Her eyes widen and then she looks away. Almost absently, her hands come up to play with the scarf he gave her. Maybe it’s true that he’d needed her help that day, when they were surrounded by titans and she’d broken her ribs to reach him. Maybe it’s not, because he’d triggered the power of the Coordinate after all. It doesn’t matter. There are a million other events in their lives just like this one; Mikasa running to rescue him and Armin from the bullies, Eren fussing over her scarf in the cold, their shared protectiveness of each other culminating in short words and sad frowns that lead to hundreds upon hundreds of arguments. The way they care has edges, and Eren sees Mikasa realise what he has, too- if they had fallen in love, they would have grown to hate each other.

The understanding settles into the space between them, quiet and still. 

“Eren,” Mikasa says. Her voice is still a little hoarse, but there’s a feeling of acceptance in it now. “Honestly, I... I never even planned to tell you, I was just so scared of being separated. I want you to know, though, that this doesn’t make me think any less of you.”

That little space in Eren’s heart that holds Mikasa and Armin grows warmer. “I know. Thank you for-” Damnit, he will acknowledge her feelings with respect, awkward as it is. “Thank you for loving me. I’m sorry, Mikasa.”

“I’m not. I’ll never be sorry for it. But I think I realise now, how I’ve been holding you back. Maybe this separation will be good for me. I know I can trust you to take care of yourself, and I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t.” Her smile is sad.

“I know. I think, in some ways, this was holding both of us back.” Eren chuckles. He offers her a teasing smile, eager to dispel the remaining tension. “You know… Jean’s been sweet on you for ages now.”

“Please don’t.”

“I’m just saying!”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“I just want you to be happy!” His teasing tone doesn’t hit quite right. “Really, Mikasa. I just want you to be happy.”

Her eyes, as they stare across at him, are still sad, but somehow they seem lighter. She’s uncurled in her chair. Her chin is high and her shoulders are straight. She doesn’t look so small anymore. What pride there is to take in love, even when it's resigned. “Me too,” she says. She smiles.

By unspoken understanding, Eren and Mikasa give each other some space in preparation for his departure from the Walls, and it takes some getting used to. Mikasa doesn’t try to curb Eren’s impulsivity as much as she used to before, and Eren has to catch himself a couple times from snapping at her for overexerting herself. They’ll have to have a talk again eventually, but not anytime soon. 

In the space she leaves behind, others begin to nestle themselves. As they separate more into their individual task groups, he finds himself, Connie and Sasha yelling at each more often, instead. Connie never remembers to fill up his gear maintenance sheet unless they remind him, Sasha keeps taking too-long eating breaks and apparently Eren “sucks at riding a horse”. 

It’s a couple days before they’re supposed to set out and Eren’s horse has been fidgeting non-stop since he got up on the saddle. Sasha shakes her head at him. “You’re a lost cause, Yeager. I’ll give you my best horse for the journey but if that doesn’t work, you should just walk the rest of the way in titan form.”

Eren throws his hands in the air. His horse tries to buck him off and he quickly clambers down. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong! They just don’t like me cause they’re stupid.”

Connie tsks. “You shouldn’t talk about Jean’s family that way, Eren.”

They predictably dissolve into snickers. “Maybe that’s why they don’t like you, Eren,” Sasha jokes. “Jean put in a bad word for you with the relatives.”

“They heard about the time I punched him in the face. I’ll never redeem myself,” he says in mock remorse.

Connie frowns. “You’ve never punched him in the face, though.”

Eren is honestly shocked. “Seriously? What the hell have I been wasting my time with, then?”

“Oh, nothing important. Just reclaiming the Walls, killing the titans, easy stuff," jokes Connie, waggling his eyebrows.

“If that’s so easy,” comes a voice from hell. They all freeze mid chuckle. “Then I wonder why it takes you so long to saddle three horses.” 

And that’s the other thing.

Where they all used to be terrified of Levi, now there’s- 

“Sir, Connie just made another horse joke about Jean and it’s great, you have to hear it.”

“What happens if I don’t like it?”

“You will! Promise!”

“That’s what you said about the last one and I don’t know how many more brain cells I’m willing to lose to your stupidity, Connie.”

“Hey, the last one was Sasha’s!”

With everyone so focused on their individual tasks, the four of them have had no one to spend time with but each other. They sleep in shared barracks, run through tasks together and report only to each other. There’s something a little different about Captain Levi, too, Eren thinks. Where there used to be this clear distance between superior and subordinate, now the lines have blurred a little. Sasha technically ranks about the same as Levi does for now, though she always defers to his command. Connie is so easygoing, it didn’t take long for him to warm up to Levi in a smaller squad and Eren… well, Eren’s the only one from the original Squad Levi still left. 

He’s familiar with Levi’s command, and comfortable under it. It’s the only squad he’s served in since he joined the Survey Corps. He knows when the Captain is being serious and expects obeisance and when he’ll allow them to joke around a bit, like now. Maybe it’s the loss of so many of the comrades he used to confide in, or maybe it’s the hell they went through together, but Eren finds that more often than not Levi will allow them their fun.

And if Eren worries that he’s lonely, and takes a special joy in the times they manage to make Levi smile or laugh, well, no one has to know.

The day they set out for the construction site dawns bright and sunny, as the others come to bid them goodbye. Commander Hange tells them they’re proud of them for rising to the task so exceptionally, Armin reminds them to write letters when they can and Jean warns them not to die or he’ll get uproariously drunk at their funerals. Mikasa smiles softly, eyes sadly tracking Eren’s, and bids them kill plenty of titans for her. 

They’ve made their way to Shiganshina, and Eren takes the opportunity to get his last look at civilisation for the next while. Though the construction teams they’ll be accompanying do seem slightly nervous, there’s a palpable feeling of excitement in the air. The few hundred people who have flocked back to live in the still ruined remains of the district line the streets to cheer them off. 

It’s smooth going on their trek to the Fort’s construction site. They surround the caravans of construction materials and civilians, making much quicker progress thanks to the newly cleared road. They don’t spot a single titan on the way, which Eren is grateful for. It’s one thing to agree to build outside the Walls and another thing to see the exact shape of the threats you’ll face out there. 

The midday sun is high in the sky by the time they reach the site. It’s a large clearing, on the far side of a cliff that overlooks the ocean. There’s a distant forest that separates their view of the blue waters Eren longs to see, but he also supposes that means they’ll be undetectable to any Marleyan soldiers arriving on the beach. The cliff is high enough that it overlooks some of the land between them and Wall Maria. A defensible position. 

They’re quick to split into groups. Levi and Sasha take charge of securing the perimeter while Eren and Connie guide the caravans further into the proposed land before they assist in the offloading process. A small team of surveyors follow behind the perimeter team, marking the edges of the Fort.

Eren finds himself oddly impressed by the efficiency of the construction team. Guided by Flegel Reeves himself, they split off into their own neat little groups to complete some task or another. Eren had his doubts about Flegel, he seemed rather the nervous sort. But his employees move with confidence, which Eren takes as a sign of capable leadership. Some people are already heading off to chop wood and clear land, while others begin scouting for possible locations for a well. 

In no time at all, the construction materials are offloaded. Sasha returns to tend to the horses, and Flegel approaches their group. “Mr Yeager,” he says. “We’ve cleared the site for your structure.” 

They follow behind the man as he leads them closer to what will be the eastern side of the Fort. There are two white lines drawn in chalk on the grass about 15 metres apart which Eren guesses is meant to demarcate where he’s supposed to sprawl. Levi slaps him on the shoulder. “You’re up, Eren.”

Eren jostles forward to take position roughly in the centre of the two lines. It’s second nature at this point to tear into his hand with his teeth, to feel the heat of the transformation wash over him. He doesn’t waste time. Once his form is complete, he makes plank position and wills his titan skin to harden. 

He envisions the pillars protruding from his skin and forming the canopy overhead. He allows the hardening process to go on longer than usual, wanting to ensure his skin is as sturdy as possible. This sturdiness also means that Captain Levi is forced to manually extract him with newly enhanced, precision thunder spears. 

Even through the layers of hardened skin, Eren feels the heat from the explosions, then the sound of his titan skin being cut open. Eren detaches himself once the nape has been removed. Levi offers his hand and Eren clasps it as he heaves himself out of the body. He’s so caught up in wondering if his hand was sweaty that he doesn’t notice until he lands beside them that Connie and Sasha are in hysterics. 

“What are you two laughing about?” he asks, staring at them in confusion. 

Connie pauses in between snickers to clasp Eren’s face in his hands and forcibly turn it towards the structure, and-

Oh.

Still clutched in Connie’s hands, Eren tilts his face to the side. Sometime during the hardening process, he ended up leaning downwards with the head of his titan body, while its posterior… ended up a little higher in the air. Eren fights against the red that threatens to creep up his cheeks. Because of the uneven line of the body, the second story canopy (while successfully formed, to be fair) has ended up being rather slanted. Actually, the whole structure looks slanted. Eren is mortified.

He turns towards Flegel Reeves and bows. “I’m sorry! Please allow me to try again.”

Flegel looks rather pale and alarmed, waving his hands in front of his face. Eren realises he’s probably never seen a person transform into a titan before. “It’s fine, Mr Yeager, we can reinforce the structure. It’s fine, please don’t worry.” 

Eren feels miserable anyway, and his fellow Scouts are much less forgiving than Reeves. 

“Eren,” Levi says. “You’re a shitty architect.”

“Pfft,” Connie adds, still snickering. “Weren’t you the one trying to give us tips on how to plank the other day?”

Sasha deepens her voice dramatically in a pathetic imitation of Eren’s voice, “Clench your core! Lower your butt!”

“Lower your butt, pfftt.” Connie chuckles.

If a titan showed up and ate Eren right at this minute, he would go down gladly. “Sh-shut up! I’d like to see you guys do a better job.”

Levi hums. “If I had your powers, I probably could.”

“Please, sir,” Eren says, too caught up in his embarrassment to watch what he’s saying. “You wouldn’t be able to orient yourself around the height difference.”

There’s a beat of sheer silence. It seems almost as though the birds have ceased to make noise. Connie and Sasha have stopped laughing to stare at Eren in a complicated mixture of abject horror and overwhelming respect. Even Flegel is gaping at him.

Captain Levi heaves a sigh. “Kid,” he says. He settles his hands on the handles of his swords and Eren realises with mounting anticipation that he’s starting to withdraw his blades. “This is when you start to run.” 

Eren does.

It takes mere minutes (embarrassing, but unsurprising) before Levi catches Eren and pins him face-first into the ground by the heel of his boot. No one can see his expression, but Eren has a feeling Levi knows he’s laughing.

With the structure up, it’s easy to affix a small ladder leading up to the second floor and transfer some of the food supplies up there, away from the wildlife. They clamber onto the roof with their ODM gear and are able to get a sufficiently comprehensive view of their surroundings, meaning they’ll need to make fewer rounds during guard duty. As the sun begins to set, they build a fire beneath the shade of the hardened structure and gather around to share in the warmth. 

To everyone’s eternal relief, no titans appear during the night. Neither do they appear the next night, or the next. Cautiously, they begin to settle into a confident flurry of activity. They’ve managed to fix the worst of Eren’s botched alignment and have set up the canvas roofing in anticipation of rainier days (it goes a long way in disguising the overall… tilt). Over the next few weeks, they also manage to build a small extension onto the side of the structure for the horses, with a trough fed from the newly constructed well. Levi is so impressed by their improvements to Eren’s “lousy, mildly obscene attempt at construction” that he proposes they keep the structure permanently, as a Survey Corps barracks outside the Walls.

As the days go by, improvements continue to be added onto the barracks until it genuinely passes for a proper building, with little rooms built within. They manage to affix a pump into the well that feeds into a little toilet, which Eren is beyond grateful for. He’s not looking forward to when the titans next appear and he has to have the blood/spinal fluid concoction painted over his face again, not if he doesn’t get a proper wash after. 

In fact, they’ve settled into such a comfortable pattern that it almost comes as a shock when the titans do appear. 

But they’re lucky. Sasha’s the one on guard duty, and she hears them from a mile away. Levi zips off into the direction of her smoke signal while they usher the others to safety. The construction teams are understandably panicked, but they listen to Eren and Connie’s attempts to hurry them into the barracks. 

“Don’t come out until we come and get you,” Eren tells them. He meets the eyes of Miss Naomi, the project supervisor. She’s a strict woman in her late forties, the kind of no-nonsense person who appeals to you with reason and doesn’t take any bullshit. Eren didn’t think she could look so scared. “Hey, you’ll be okay. We’ll get rid of them.”

Connie shuts the door to the barracks and turns to him. “Okay, Mr Attack Titan, sir, time to put on your make-up.”

Eren wrinkles his nose in disgust, even as he hands Connie the vial and the brush. He carries them with him always. It had been one of the conditions Hange-san had enforced when assigning him outside the Walls. “Only you would call blood and spinal fluid make-up, Connie.”

“Don’t talk so much, you’re making me smudge the rouge.”

“Stop calling it that!”

Despite the teasing, Connie paints him in broad strokes and releases him in seconds. He’s already preparing to launch himself onto the roof of the barracks, where he’ll remain as their last line of defence. “Give ‘em hell, Eren,” he says, holding out his fist.

Eren bumps it with his own. “You got it.”

He starts running towards the fading green of the smoke signal Sasha had launched, biting into his fist as he does so. He transforms mid-run, crashing into the thick forest. Sasha had spotted them somewhere in here, meaning they had either been wandering around there for a while, or they’re newly made and made their way across the ocean and through the forest. He spots Levi and Sasha on one of the trees and halts in front of them. 

“Sasha, scan the rest of the perimeter then scout the ocean if you can. Once you’re done, double back to the barracks,” says Levi. Sasha nods once and launches herself away. Levi turns to face him. “There are three of them. Two ten-metre tall titans and one three-metre titan. I suspect they’re newly turned, it’s unlikely there would be so many of them together at once otherwise. We’ll try to command them to stop and take care of themselves first. Failing that, we do it the old-fashioned way.” 

He propels himself onto the Attack Titan's shoulder and Eren starts to walk further into the forest. He follows the sounds of the titans’ thundering footsteps and stops once he catches sight of them. The titans, three of them as Levi said, continue advancing towards them, lured by the human on Eren’s shoulder. Levi taps his fist against his titan's cheek and Eren takes that as his cue to scream. Obediently, the titans pause in their movement. Eren repeats the usual single-step commands, and the titans slowly move to fight each other. Eventually, only one titan is left, injured but unmoving. Levi makes a dismissive noise, then kills it himself and returns to Eren’s shoulder. 

He cleans his blades with a piece of white cloth. Eren never understood this practice of his, the blood evaporates anyway. Maybe one day he'll be brave enough to ask. Once Levi’s done, he tucks the blades away and turns to nod at him. “Good job, Eren. Now take us home.” 

Here’s another odd practice Levi’s begun that Eren struggles with understanding. It’s not that Levi never complimented him back then, he did, but lately he’s done it when Eren accomplishes even the simplest things. It makes him blush, much to his consternation. He doesn't understand it. But Eren supposes, thinking of Sasha and food, that there are worse eccentricities to have. 

The others are waiting for them back at base. Once Levi informs them the coast is clear, and Sasha reassures him that the literal coast is also clear, the teams rush back out again. They pause and a couple scream once they're outside, and it takes Eren a while to realise they’re screaming at him. That’s right, he realises, they’ve never seen me in this form before.

Eren looks around awkwardly as the others calm them down, and he notices something. In their hurry to usher everyone in, someone had knocked the side of the canvas roofing loose. Eren frowns, and supposes he may as well try to fix it now, when it’s easier to reach. He bends down, ignoring the frightened gasps that the action arouses, and pins the canvas back into place.

When he straightens back up, he feels the weight of many eyes on his back. Everyone has stopped to stare at him. 

“Huh,” says Flegel Reeves. For once, the man is looking at him with something other than apprehension in his eyes. “Well, ain’t that an idea?”

Captain Levi hums, arms crossed in thoughtful intrigue. “I was thinking the same thing.”

“Hey, that means we’ll need to paint him less often right?” Connie asks. Eren doesn’t have the patience to snap at him about sounding so disappointed, because he’s too busy wondering what the hell is going on.

He detaches his torso and glares at them from the suspended nape of his titan’s neck. Seeing him in control of the form seems to melt away the last of the fear from the construction teams, and he even sees Naomi shoot him a smile. “Would anyone like to explain to me what this idea is?”

“It turns out your titan form has many unprecedented uses." Flegel smiles. "Congratulations, Mr Yeager. You’re back on the construction team.”

No one had thought to inform the construction teams that Eren’s titan form is surprisingly dextrous, but it turns out he’s capable of performing most of the same tasks he would in his human form, just at ten thousand times the capacity.

They have him assist in excavating the stone deposits first. There are no titan-sized shovels, so he’s stuck using his hands, but he doesn’t mind. Seeing him do such manual labour has convinced the construction teams that it really is just Eren in there, and everyone gradually becomes comfortable with his giant presence. 

With the assistance of Eren’s titan form, they manage to successfully excavate the stone deposit months ahead of schedule. The mining equipment is set up not long after, and suddenly waves of people are making their way to the Fort and there is a steady going transport line into the interior. It means they’re able to send letters back and forth much faster and Eren relishes the opportunity to speak to Armin again. 

He sends letters to Mikasa too, but not as often. It’s idle conversation mostly, stories of the new recruits or little sketches of the views outside the walls. Things are still a little strained between them, like trying to mend an old shirt after you’ve already become accustomed to its frayed edges. But at least the forced finality of the written word ensures he takes care not to offend her in any way. Regardless, they keep at it, both too stubborn to quit, and as the months go by, the awkwardness slowly thaws between them, and he finds their conversations more enjoyable than he ever has before.

Eren gets even closer to the squad outside the Walls too. For Sasha’s birthday, he and Connie team up to craft her a new set of arrows for her bow, and Captain Levi even volunteers to take over their shifts, leaving them to their own devices. An older soldier just posted to Fort Erwin, Joseph, smuggles them bootlegged alcohol and they get drunk for the first time in their lives. Connie spends the night tipsily making sure Eren doesn’t accidentally injure himself and transform.

Once they have a steady supply of ore secured, Eren and the construction teams turn their focus onto laying the foundation for the walls of the fort. As the weeks pass, and the walls begin to take shape, more specialists arrive. Skilled woodworkers, farmers and waste management specialists arrive to begin construction on the interior infrastructure of the fort. 

Slowly, designated areas begin to emerge as construction ramps up. On the eastern side of the fort is the stone processing centre, the barracks (no longer lopsided), and the military command centre. A manmade river sourced from large underground aquifers divides the fort into two. On the western side, closer to the river, there are agricultural areas planted with just enough hardy crops to supply the population within the fort. Beyond the farmlands are the residential and commercial centres. There’s a heavy focus on the bare necessities in the planned structures on this side. No luxurious boutiques as there are within Wall Sheena, but it suits its residents just fine. 

As workers arrive to execute these plans, more soldiers are dispatched to guard the troops. Whole squads of Garrison soldiers have left to join the Survey Corps, as public opinion slowly deems the Wall-guarding regiment superfluous. There are few titan sightings, perhaps one every month, and they’re dispensed with quickly and efficiently. Eventually they stop altogether. Eren learns that he is able to specify the direction of his commands, meaning he can exert control over one specific titan at a time. However, he is still unable to increase the complexity of his commands. They eventually agree that it's a lost cause. 

Eren spends much of the next few months in titan form. Between assisting in construction and killing the titans, he barely has time to be himself, only returning to his original form to eat and sleep once in a while. He learns a lot about city planning and architecture during this time, and the Reeves company learns the benefits of having a fifteen-metre-tall worker. Flegel offers him a job multiple times, much to Eren’s amusement. 

It’s somewhat jarring to be in this form for so long. He catches himself doing silly human gestures sometimes, like pushing his hair back or scratching his head, that feel natural but must look ridiculous on a titan. And the times he is human, he sometimes forgets that he isn’t able to accomplish as much. He keeps trying to lift the logged timber and stone slabs and ends up having to wait for his foot to heal when he inevitably drops them on it. He gets caught up also on all the silly inconveniences of being human. Connie and Sasha have to remind him to brush his teeth more than once. 

Still, it means the titans pose little to no threat anymore and progress goes on at an incredible pace. A little under a year after they were sent on this mission, the surrounding twenty-metre-tall, stone walls of the fort are almost complete. The watch towers they commissioned are all that’s left to add onto them. All the necessary interior structures of the fort are finished and the landscape has started to take on shape. Altogether, it’s really quite lovely. 

Eren sits on top of the fort’s walls, in his human form for once. It’s a rare free hour for him, and he soaks in the view at night. He can see the uneven edge of the river from here, from when he dug too far left during its construction. And if he looks out east, past the fort, he can see the lights of the Garrison’s torches on top of Shiganshina’s southern edge.

So much of what is in the fort, he built with his own hands. A part of him resents that he assisted in caging humanity within a set of walls all over again. But a larger part of him, tempered by age and reason, notes the necessity of security. He sees the jovial atmosphere down below. Lulled into safety by the almost completed walls, there’s merriment in the streets. Soldiers off duty are getting a little tipsy and he can see what must be Sasha dancing to some odd tune or another. He sees Supervisor Naomi and one of the agricultural specialists singing with their arms around each other. 

He supposes it’s fine if not everyone would risk everything for complete freedom. Or maybe it’s more accurate to say that he realises being restricted doesn’t always mean you aren’t progressing.

He wishes they had the luxury to be truly free, without these walls he rests on. But he also knows that can come later.

For now, he is content with the view.

“You know,” a familiar voice says from behind him, “You are allowed to go down there and join them.”

Eren smiles at his visitor. “I could say the same to you, sir.”

Levi sits himself down next to him, and adopts an angered tone Eren knows is more teasing than serious. “I don’t need permission from you, brat. It’s my shift on guard duty right now, otherwise I would.”

“Then shouldn’t you be watching out for the titans?”

“I am,” Levi jokes, smirking at him. The smile on Eren’s face tightens a little in discomfort. Levi must notice, for his own smirk loses some of its lustre. “Anyway, I’m doing my job, not loitering around. What’s your excuse?”

“I don’t know. Just wanted to sit for a while.” Eren shrugs. His hair ruffles in the wind and he self-consciously brushes it back. He should really cut it soon, but he can never remember. He barely remembers to wash it.

Levi hums. Eren avoids his gaze. There’s something searching and too-knowing about it. “When was the last time you ate, Eren?”

“I don’t… Friday, I think?”

Levi’s expression closes off. “That was two days ago.”

“Oh,” Eren says, looking up at the sky. He supposes it was. But he’d spent most of the weekend in titan form, carrying up the last of the concrete slabs for the wall. He must have lost track of time. “I didn’t realise.”

“Come on, we’ll get you some food.”

“I’m really not that hungry-”

“If I wanted to hear your opinion, I would have asked for it,” Levi says, smacking him on the shoulder. “Up, now.”

Eren obeys, because he’s never been good at disobeying orders from Levi. He watches as the Captain asks Joseph to take over on guard duty. Then Levi all but drags Eren into the dining hall by the ear. He plocks him down on a stool and disappears. He comes back a few minutes later with a tray laden with a bowl of stew, a bread basket and two cups of tea. Levi helps himself to a cup and shoves the rest of the tray at Eren. 

Eren hesitates then starts to eat when Levi’s resting impassivity deteriorates into a scowl. “Thank you for this, sir. You didn’t need to go to this much trouble for me.”

“It’s not about you. I’m actually punishing Joseph for smuggling you guys alcohol, you just gave me a reason to commence the punishment now,” says Levi, waving a hand dismissively in the air. Eren tries hard not to react to the idea that Levi knows they’d all gotten drunk off their asses on bootlegged alcohol. He knew Connie was a snitch. Levi waits for Eren to take another bite of bread before he says, nonchalantly, “So. Eren. How much do you hate being a titan?”

Eren chokes. “What?”

“You got all awkward just now when I referred to you as a titan. Did it upset you?”

Eren’s cheeks are warm. He prays the light in the room is dim enough that Levi doesn’t notice. “I wasn’t awkward! I just didn’t expect it, that’s all. It doesn't bother me."

“Sure, that’s why you’re skipping meals and starving yourself.”

“I’m not starving myself!” Eren snaps, feeling flustered by this whole line of questioning. “I’ve starved before and it was nothing like this.” 

He regrets it as soon as he says it. He likes to think that he and Levi are on closer terms than they were two years ago, hell, then they were a year ago even, but they’re not really… ‘air out your dirty laundry’ kind of close. At least they weren’t, before Eren opened his stupid mouth. 

Levi studies him quietly for a while, hands wrapped around his mug. “I know what it’s like to starve, too. You’re right, I guess. You’re too fit to count as emaciated just yet.” He’s saying such embarrassing things, they’re making Eren red, but Levi is unfazed. His voice is so casual, he might as well be talking about the weather. He probably doesn't even realise. “But, I also know what it’s like to stop caring about the way you look, whether or not you’ve eaten, what day it is. I know enough to be concerned, Eren.” 

He says it so genuinely, Eren doesn’t have the heart to be dishonest. He can’t look Levi in the eye, so he stares at the ceiling instead. “To answer your question, no. No, I don’t like being called a titan because I don’t believe that I’m a titan. I’m human-” Eren hates that he has to ask, that it’s a question, but, “-I’m human, right?”

There’s an expression on Levi’s face that he can’t quite place. “Yes, Eren. You’re human.”

“When… I take on my titan form, it’s like it’s separate from me. Like it’s a tool for me to use.” He shrugs uncomfortably. “I don’t really know how to explain it.” 

“I think I understand what you mean,” Levi says. His voice is still unfazed but his eyes seem softer somehow. “I apologise for referring to you as a titan, then. I didn’t realise it made you uncomfortable.”

There’s something mortifying about being confronted with apologies that are that sincere. “It’s okay, really! They’re jokes, and they make you laugh.” Eren’s cheeks are so bright red, they can probably be seen from across the ocean. “I don’t mind them if they make you laugh.”

Levi stares at him.

“I mean-! I mean if they make anyone laugh. It was a general ‘you’ as in ‘you all’-” Eren stops talking.

Levi elects to move on with the conversation. “Let’s make it clear that the jokes were never my actual opinion, then. You’re human to me, Eren.”

Eren is too flustered to say anything and he suspects Levi has given up on expecting him to continue his end of the conversation. He says, “Is that also why you forget to eat?”

“I guess,” Eren responds. “I think sometimes, when I spend a long time as a titan, I start thinking of my real body as a tool, too. I don’t need to eat or sleep in titan form, and sometimes those habits carry over. I keep forgetting to cut my hair, too.” He blows his overlong bangs out of his face to illustrate. 

“And here I thought the hair was a stylistic choice,” Levi says absently. “It suits you.”

Eren stares at him. 

Levi blinks, then says, “I mean, it frames your face well. It’s not the worst hairstyle you could have-” He pauses. His voice is significantly more controlled when he speaks again. “What I mean to say is that it doesn’t look unintentional. If you were worried about that.”

For some silly reason, Eren can’t seem to bite back his grin. “I’ll keep it like this then.”

Levi looks like he doesn’t quite know how they ended up here. His face scrunches over, like he’s puzzling through something, then it relaxes like he’s decided not to give a fuck. “I’ll tell Flegel you’re being assigned back to guard duty.”

“What?” asks Eren. “Why? We still need to construct the towers.”

“They can do it the old-fashioned way. It’ll be good for them, going back to their roots." Levi shrugs. "Despite Flegel’s repeated attempts to hire you, the military isn’t actually planning to allow you to leave. He’s too dependent on you and it’s bad for business.” 

“You don’t need to do that for me, sir,” Eren says, humbled. “I can manage.”

“Not everything’s about you, Eren. I just said this was for their own good. When did you become such a narcissist, huh?” 

“I’m not! That’s not-”

“This is because I brought you dinner, isn’t it? Now you think it’s okay to yell at me? I’ve coddled you.”

“Sir!”

“I’m never bringing you dinner again, Eren.” Levi crosses his arms and his lips are set in a strict expression. But Eren can tell his eyes are concerned. “You’ll just have to remember to feed yourself from now on.”

Eren is suitably pacified, understanding Levi’s intention. “Yes, sir. My apologies for being a narcissist. I’ll work on it, sir.”

“See that you do.”

Eren snorts and Levi threatens to hit him. Then they sit for a while, as Eren finishes his meal and starts to sip his tea in the companionable silence. He sneaks a couple glances at the Captain, watches the way he stirs his tea absently, eyes fixed somewhere in the distance. He notices that his hair is a little longer too, and falls elegantly across his dark, dark eyes. To himself, Eren quietly marvels that the view outside doesn’t quite hold a candle to this one.

Chapter Text

The rest of the Fort’s walls are constructed without his help, but Eren doesn’t get to be on guard duty for very long. A little over a year after they first set out, Squad Levi is recalled to the interior as newer squads relieve them. There hasn’t been a titan sighting in months, and entrepreneuring corporations are slowly forming tour groups to travel outside the Walls. There’s talk of the Walls being obsolete, but no one makes plans for any further construction. With so much still unknown about their enemy, it seems fitting to embrace caution. 

It’s less than a day’s ride into Wall Maria now, with paved roads and a newly constructed gate in Shiganshina. The outpost is almost fully rebuilt. There are fountains in the square now, and bustling vendors. There’s what looks to be a hospital where Eren’s house used to be. He thinks it’s fitting. 

There’s also a large stone statue of a dove by the gate into the district, a memorial for those lost when the Wall fell. Squad Levi pauses there and Eren lays a small purple flower at its base for his mother. 

He’s taller than she was now. He likes to think he looks like her. 

As they pass into Wall Maria proper, a familiar motley crew in green hoods awaits them. Eren’s eyes find Armin’s first and it’s impossible for any of them to stop from breaking formation. As Eren scrambles out of his horse, he sees Sasha and Connie doing the same and he hears Levi’s disgruntled sigh, though the captain makes no move to stop them. Eren’s running as soon as his feet touch the ground, and it's seconds before he feels the familiar slam of a body against his, his best friend throwing himself against him. 

“Armin!” Eren yells, clutching his friend tight.

“Eren!” Armin’s lips are stretched in a grin. “I can’t believe you’re back!”

Eren’s laughing and his eyes might be a bit teary when he looks at Armin. His best friend has changed in his absence. His hair is cropped short now, just above his ears. There’s a newfound confidence in Armin’s eyes, too. Command has suited him well, Eren can tell.

They break apart and a small hand touches his elbow. Eren turns, and it’s Mikasa. Her hair is longer now too, a black river falling onto the old scarf he gifted her, wrapped around her neck. Eren smiles at her, and he is ever grateful when she smiles back. He wraps her in his arms and Mikasa makes a surprised sound. “Eren, you’re so tall now.”

“Yeah,” says Jean, punching him on the shoulder. “What do they feed you outside the Walls?”

“The best of the best meat,” Sasha says, salivating a little at the thought. “I wanted to bring some back for you guys, but I ate it on the way here.”

“Of course you did.”

“I don’t think it makes us grow taller, though. I mean, look at me and look at you, Jean,” Connie says, raising his hand for a fistbump to Jean. He’s right. Jean’s grown even taller since they last saw him, and he towers over the rest of them, especially Connie, who probably hasn’t grown an inch since he was twelve. Turning, Connie spots Hange and favours them with a boyish grin. “Yo, Hange-san.”

“Connie, Sasha, Eren. It’s good to see you all." They’ve got an arm slung around Levi’s shoulders and he’s making a disgusted face but no one’s buying it. “We’re throwing you guys a celebration today in honour of your success. The first expedition outside the Walls without a casualty, haha!" Levi gives Hange a look, like they made a joke in extremely bad taste. "Anyway, it'll be a fun party. Apparently even Her Majesty plans to make an appearance.”

“That would be nice. Everyone will be together again,” says Armin, smiling. 

Eren still has an arm wrapped around Mikasa and he throws the other one around Armin, squeezing tight. He’s missed them so much. Connie and Sasha are great, but there’s something to be said about childhood friends and being known.

They start walking back to what must be the nearby Survey Corps barracks, Hange and Levi leading the way up ahead, bickering amongst themselves. Armin seems quite content to be in Eren’s almost chokehold. He looks up at him and says, “We had an idea about your titan, Eren.”

“Oh?”

“When we were discussing the mission to reclaim Wall Maria, Jean mentioned seeing an outfitted titan.”

“I remember that.” Eren hums, thoughtfully, “Zeke was riding it.”

“Yeah, we think it was the Cart Titan, from your dad’s journals,” Jean says.

Connie interrupts with a snort. “Hey, Jean, if you stole that power would you be the Horse Cart Titan?” The others devolve into snickers. 

“Hah?”

Jean launches himself at Connie as the others watch in fond resignation. Eren catches Levi’s amused eyes and bites back a grin. He turns back to Armin. “What does the Cart Titan have to do with me?”

“Well, we all remember your form being quite proficient at hand to hand combat. You successfully fought back both the Female and Armoured Titans with your greater reach and flexibility,” Armin notes. “Additionally, after we got reports of your assistance in constructing the Fort, it became apparent that your Titan form is actually quite dextrous. I hear you were able to lift wood and blocks of stone without damaging it. My titan can’t manage that at all. It’s pretty incredible.” 

Eren’s trying not to blush. “So?”

“I’m saying, it’s possible that we could outfit you with titan-sized weaponry, similar to how Marley weaponizes the Cart Titan. This could be the unique ability of the Attack Titan that you were wondering about, Eren.”

Eren stops walking. He notices the rest of Squad Levi doing the same. “What, you mean I could wield like, a giant sword?” asks Eren.

“Yes,” Hange says. They’ve got that mad scientist gleam in their eyes. “We could potentially outfit you with an entire range of weapons. Swords, cannon-style firearms, giant crossbows.”

“Woah, giant crossbows,” Sasha exclaims. “You should go for that one, Eren. Think of the game we could hunt!”

“Is that even gonna work? I mean, machinery wise? How would we even go about moulding a giant cannon gun?” 

“That one’s gonna take some time,” Armin admits sheepishly. “But we have the swords! We can test it out once we get back to the barracks.”

“They’re good, Eren. I sharpened them myself.” Mikasa nods decisively.

Eren still feels a little dubious, but the excitement is catching onto him now. Connie’s got stars in his eyes. “What about armour? We could give him a red helmet, make it match his make-up.”

“For the last time, it isn’t make-up!”

“Are you talking about Historia’s blood and my spinal fluid?” Armin asks, disgusted. “Why are you calling it make-up?”

“It goes on his face!”

“And you do paint it on with brushes,” notes Jean, seeming like he’s considering the appeal of the term.

“You’re both barbaric,” Mikasa says, deadpan.

Jean looks appropriately devastated. “Wha- Mikasa!”

Yeah, Eren’s missed them.

They make their way back to the main Survey Corps headquarters in Wall Rose. It’s a quick journey, with most of the gates left permanently open. It’s also arguably the most enjoyable trip Eren’s ever been on. Without having to look over his back and be on guard for the first time in almost a year, the atmosphere is jovial. 

Squad Levi has so much to share about the construction of the Fort and life outside the Walls. Likewise, Jean and Armin recount them with the highlights of their own respective missions. Based on further study of the journals, Armin tells them they were able to model an idea of a world map (A. World. Map. Eren lives in extraordinary times). They’ve also begun to make attempts at replicating some of the other unknown technologies mentioned, like ‘cameras’ and ‘radios’. Astounding stuff.

Eren bullies some stories out of Mikasa on the new recruits. Though she doesn’t say it, he can tell half of them are terrified of her and the other half are madly in love. For the first time in his life, Eren favours Jean with a sympathetic look. Jean flips him off. 

He wishes they could be over and done with the weapons testing immediately upon arriving at HQ, but that’s not an option just yet. The base is bustling, preparations for the celebration Hange-san mentioned are well under way. It’s apparently taken Her Majesty a week to clear out the time to come for the party, so there’s no chance of delaying it, no matter how excited they all are to see Eren wield a pair of titan-sized swords.

They hand their horses off to Sasha, who insists on meeting the new horse master before the party. It’s a quick stop for the rest of them to leave their luggage in their assigned dorms. Then they follow Hange back out of HQ.

They’ve cleared out a space in the middle of town, where a courtyard park is located. Soldiers are stringing up cloth and lights, and a stage is being set up for speeches and performances. There’s another area cordoned off for a live band, beside a large tent with a throne-like chair which Eren guesses is meant for Historia. Vendors are already arriving to set up shops selling sweet cakes and fried pastries. The air is abuzz with excitement. Eren marvels at the space. It’s like the Harvest Festival sprang into existence over night. 

The celebration begins just before sunset. The Survey Corps soldiers are all almost completely let off duty for the event, with a few token members manning headquarters in their absence. The event kicks off with speeches that Eren honestly tunes out of.

But when the official formalities are done, the party gets underway in earnest. 

The live band is a string quartet that plays fast-paced music, so merry it sweeps some of them off their feet. Connie seizes Sasha’s hand and tugs her into an embarrassingly exuberant dance over the sound of her laughter. Armin and Hange stand off to the side, clapping appropriately and chatting between themselves (no doubt about the next experiments they plan to subject Eren to). There is a large greeting line forming to see the Queen, and Eren and Mikasa make their way over to join it. 

“Is it weird that I still can’t believe she’s the Queen?” asks Eren.

Mikasa shakes her head. “I can still remember her sneaking dinner to Sasha that first day in training camp, after she ran for hours.”

Eren snorts at the memory. “I really thought Shadis was going to kill her. I can’t believe she offered him the smaller half of the potato.”

“In hindsight, I definitely can,” Mikasa says wryly. They both glance at Sasha and Connie still on the dance floor. They’ve both progressed to doing the sprinkler move, as everyone in their vicinity desperately tries not to get hit in the face. “Was it awful, spending a year with those two?”

Eren chuckles, shaking his head. His hair falls over his eyes and he pushes it behind his ear. “Nah, they were great. They’re both so cheerful it was the only thing keeping me sane most days. And we had each other’s backs, you know? We’d cover each other’s shifts sometimes and sneak out.”

Mikasa hums, a small smile curving her lips. They move further up the line. “Connie didn’t rat you out?”

“He totally ratted me out,” Eren groans. Mikasa laughs. “He told Captain Levi about us getting drunk at Sasha’s birthday party.”

“You got drunk at Sasha’s party?” Mikasa gasps.

Eren falters, belatedly remembering exactly who it is he’s talking to. “Uh, no. Who said that?”

“Eren!”

She tries to hit him. He swerves, moving to dodge her attack. It’s futile, she’s too quick. She lands a bruising punch on his arm. He already knows what Mikasa is imagining- the perpetually drunk Garrison soldiers of their childhood, rowdy and violent. “Ow, ow, okay! I surrender! We got a little drunk off duty at Sasha’s party. It was just the one time, I’m not going to turn into an alcoholic and I didn’t even end up hungover.”

Mikasa huffs. “What did Levi have to say about all this?”

Eren scratches the back of his neck. He feels a little heat rise to his cheeks. “Uh, he just brought me food and punished the guy who gave us alcohol.”

Mikasa’s eyes widen a little. “He brought you food?”

“Yeah, I was in titan form a lot back then and sometimes I’d lose track of the days a little, you know?” Eren says in a small voice.

“Eren,” says Mikasa, sadly. “You didn’t say.” She looks like she wants to say more, but stops herself. A little awkward pause descends over them now. Back then, before their talk a year ago when Mikasa confessed, she would have pulled him off and shoved a piece of bread straight into his oesophagus. She doesn’t now. Eren can’t tell if it’s because she doesn’t think it’s her place anymore, or if it’s because she believes he’s finally learnt to take care of himself. He doesn’t get the chance to ask. “Are you better now?”

“Yeah. The captain made me realise I was being stupid,” he says, ruefully.

“You weren’t being stupid. You needed help, and I’m glad Levi was there for you,” Mikasa says, firmly. She raises her eyebrows at him. “You and him got a lot closer, huh?”

“Mikasa,” Eren says warningly. “It’s not whatever you’re implying it is.”

“I’m not implying anything. It’s just an observation. You have a thing for older soldiers, don’t you?” Eren pushes her shoulder in offense and she pushes him right back. It’s not like that between him and Levi. Why would she say that? Does it seem like it is? She shakes her head with a smile, and Eren dismisses his thoughts. “You know, I wrote him a few letters over the last year.”

“Really? Why?” Eren asks, shocked. 

“We’re actually related. So distantly we can’t even trace how, but we have the same last name. After our… talk last year, I wanted to see what else I could learn about myself, and about what families should be. Levi’s family experience was all kinds of messed up and so was mine. I mean, I didn’t really have appropriate feelings about my adopted brother,” she says ruefully. Eren cringes but Mikasa’s unfazed, as always, about her affection for him. “It was really nice, actually. He’d write back with combat advice or little stories. A lot of those stories were about you.”

Eren’s a little mortified. He makes himself push past it. “What did he say?”

“Just little updates on your progress with the Founding Titan or some near-suicidal thing you did that day. At first I was so irritated that he wasn’t protecting you more, but then I realised that he genuinely believed you didn’t need protecting. He knows what you’re capable of with more certainty than I’ll ever have.” She looks him in the eye, and he realises that she’s trying to clear the air between them. Acknowledging the titan in the room, and brutally cutting it down, so to speak. “You deserve someone like that, Eren. Someone who believes the best of you. Even if everything else had worked out in our favour, I don’t think I could ever have been that person.”

“You don’t believe the best in me?”

“I’d smother the best in you to keep you alive,” Mikasa admits frankly. They both know it’s true. Mikasa has never needed Eren to be accomplished, or been supportive of the risks he’s wanted to take to better himself. She’d want him safe and healthy at any cost, and what a stifling life that would be for him.

He turns to track Levi in the crowd. He’s joined Hange and Armin at a nearby table. Hange is regaling them with some story or another, arm slung over Levi’s soldier. Levi’s got a small smile on his face that Eren can’t turn away from. “But… Levi and I aren’t like that.” 

“So what?” Mikasa shrugs. “It doesn’t have to be him. You don’t have to love just one person your whole life, Eren. You’ve got time to explore.”

Eren realises she’s right. For the first time in his life, he takes the opportunity to feel the expanse of time stretching out before him. He doesn’t feel the chokehold of mortality weighing down on his caged existence, because he isn’t caged. For god’s sake, he just spent a year outside the Walls. Mikasa’s right. He’s got time to explore, to embrace the side of himself he’s shoved away for so long in favour of surviving. Now he has time to live.

He realises also, that for Mikasa to say this, she must have well and truly moved past her feelings for him. 

The edge of her scarf has come loose and makes the overall shape a little lopsided. Eren fusses over it, retying it tightly around her neck. She smiles at him in thanks.

A throat clears behind them. “Uhm, hey guys. Am I interrupting something?”

They turn. Jean stands a little to the side, hands tucked behind his back. His hair is combed and neatly parted. It almost looks like he’s used oil or something to tame the worst of it. He also looks scared shitless. Eren realises both he and Mikasa have turned identical inspecting gazes on him. With their hair around the same length, and the eerily similar shrewdness of their expressions, they must look like the devil siblings from hell. 

Eren decides to throw the guy a bone. “You’re good, Jean. Need something?”

“Uh, well. I was just wondering if Mikasa- if you,” He turns to face Mikasa head on. “Would you like to dance with me?”

Eren’s eyebrows shoot sky high. If he was further away, he’d let out an impressed whistle. The guy’s got bigger balls than he thought. Mikasa compulsively pinches his arm in shock. Eren turns to her. She’s frozen, blinking at Jean who’s turning rapidly red. He realises this might be the first time someone has approached Mikasa so blatantly. He’ll lend her a hand, too. 

“She’d love to dance,” Eren says, gritting his teeth when Mikasa’s pinch twists painfully into the flesh of his arm. “Go on, Mikasa.”

Mikasa turns panicked eyes between them. “I don’t know how to dance.”

“So what?” Eren says, smiling fondly. “Find somebody who wants to dance with you, anyway. You’ve got time to explore.” Mikasa’s eyes widen in understanding. You don’t have to love just one person your whole life.

Jean clears his throat discreetly. “I’d like to dance with you, anyway. For the record.”

Mikasa shuffles a little awkwardly in place for a second. Then she nods to herself and straightens up. There’s a fierce expression on her face that’s honestly a little frightening. Eren cringes, but Jean seems entranced. Mikasa holds out a hand. “You’ll have to teach me,” she says. “But I think I’m a fast learner.”

Jean looks at Mikasa like she has single-handedly cured poverty within the Walls. “I’d love to.” He takes her hand, and they’re off. 

Eren smiles after them as they make their way into the courtyard. 

“Damn,” says a voice he hasn’t heard in a while. “I thought they’d never get their sh-stuff together.” 

Eren realises they had made it to the front of the greeting line when Jean approached them. Historia sits before him on the makeshift throne, red robes flowing softly down her arms and an ornate crown perched on top of her perfect curls. She grins down at him cheekily. 

“Not supposed to curse, Your Highness?” He asks, smirking.

“No. Apparently it detracts from my image,” Historia says shortly. She sniffs disdainfully, raising her eyebrows at him. Her eyes are teasing. “You know, people usually bow when they greet me.”

He bows ninety degrees at the waist, concealing his grin from her disapproving guards. “It’s been a long time.” 

“Too long. Congratulations on the success of your mission, Eren. If I could, I’d give you all another medal. You’ve done your queen and country proud.” She smiles at him like a goddess smiles on her devotees. Eren’s impressed, she’s really gotten better at this queen thing since he left. 

“I trust you’ve been well in the last year.”

“Yes, thank you. Though I admit to feeling lonely on occasion without all of you for company. I don’t regret taking up the crown, but sometimes I worry I’ll miss the important things in your lives.” Her eyes are wistful. “I’m glad I got to see that happen for Jean and Mikasa.” 

His heart clenches in sympathy. Even now, her guards are sending wary glances at Eren and the crowds have their eyes peeled for any hint of a scandal. The isolation of the crown seems ever-present and absolute.

Eren smiles, trying to reassure her. “I'll to write to you more. Keep you fully updated on their relationship.”

“Oh, that would be nice.” Historia winks at him subtly. “Consider it your appointed task for the sake of my sanity.”

Eren’s aware he’s only got a few minutes to speak with her. The greeting line stretches on behind him, full of people anxiously waiting to bow before their Queen (likely in a much more dignified manner). Historia must realise it too, because she offers him her hand to kiss without further delay. She’s wearing gloves this time, thank god, so he doesn’t hesitate for fear of any flashbacks her royal blood might trigger. 

As he bows over her hand, Historia leans forward to whisper. “I also miss dancing, so you better get to it on my behalf.” 

Eren barks out a laugh. He sees her guards grumble behind her but he dismisses them when he sees how Historia’s eyes are sparkling with laughter. If she wants to live vicariously through him, he’ll give it his best shot. “Your wish is my command, Your Royal Highness,” he says with a final, mocking nod of his head, then he leaves the greeting line.

He feels lighter all of a sudden. Compared to the restrictions Historia is put through, what does Eren have to feel awful about? His life has taken a turn for the better in the last few years and he hasn’t had the chance to enjoy it. The future yawns in front of him, ripe with purpose. You’ve got time to explore. He feels a kind of excitement and potentiality more characteristic of his age than he’s ever felt before. Is this what teenagers are supposed to feel? This reckless hunger? He’s swept up in it. He wants to sweep someone else up into it.

Levi’s still sitting with Hange and Armin at the table, and Armin’s speaking now so it’s probably some embarrassing story about Eren’s childhood. He opts not to go there and subject himself to the horror. Mikasa and Jean are dancing, laughing shyly as they sway and Eren smiles at the sight of them. Connie and Sasha are still on the dance floor too, so Eren makes his way to join them, and they’re all too happy to encourage Eren’s impulsivity. They do embarrassing moves in a little triangle, shouting and laughing, as everyone else swerves to avoid them. He sees Historia laughing at them from her throne, and his heart is buoyed once more. 

He’s drunk on happiness, but otherwise rather dehydrated. He makes his way to the bar. It’s inside one of the buildings that face the courtyard and the lights are dimmer here, the atmosphere is quieter. Some patrons are puffing away at cigars, and the smoke that curls through the air adds something sultry to the space. Eren sits in the corner of the bar and doesn’t bother pushing his luck with a beer, asking for water instead. The bartender sets it down beside him and he sips slowly.

His hair is falling into his face again. It brushes against the stubble he hasn’t bothered to shave yet and he scratches idly at his chin. He should consider tying his hair up, since he doesn’t plan to cut it. Maybe he should ask Sasha where she gets her hair ties from-

Someone sets a mug down on the counter next to him and slides into the empty seat to his left. Eren turns to look. It’s a soldier, about his age, with dark hair cut neatly above his ears. It’s wavy and curls a little on top of his head. Eren can’t really make out the colour of his eyes in the dim light, but they’re framed by thick, black lashes. Eren’s own widen a little. He doesn’t think he’s ever met someone so conspicuously attractive. 

“You’d think if they put us into uniform, they’d let us drink right?” The guy says jovially. He gestures at his own mug of water. “It seems a little odd that they’d give us guns before they give us the booze.”

Eren laughs a little awkwardly. Who is this guy? “Yeah.”

“Sorry, I didn’t introduce myself. I saw a fellow soldier at the bar and had to come say ‘hi’. I’m Kyle, I just joined the Survey Corps a few months ago. I haven’t seen you around here before.”

“Eren.” Eren offers his hand and they shake. Kyle’s fingers brush against his when they let go and it makes Eren feel a little flustered. “I’ve been stationed outside the Walls until recently, so that’s probably why we haven’t run into each other."

“No shit. At the new Fort?” Eren nods. Kyle says excitedly, “I’m heading there next week. I feel like being stationed there has got to be a goal for every recruit.”

“Is that why you joined the Survey Corps? To leave the Walls?”

“Nah. I was with the MPs before, but I feel like we weren’t really making a difference, you know? I mean, the Survey Corps retook Wall Maria while we were twiddling away in the capital. Now they’ve built the Fort. I guess the choice seemed obvious to me after that. Why’d you join up?”

Wow, Eren can’t remember the last time someone asked him that. “I was born and raised in Shiganshina. When the Wall fell, the titans killed my mother. I wanted to get revenge, I guess.” It’s true, but the words leave his mouth without any of the familiar passion from before. He feels so far removed from that reality now. With all he’s learned and all he’s grown, the anger feels more like a memory from his past than a persisting drive.

“Ah, shit, I’m sorry to hear that. But we really gave those bastards what they deserved, huh?” Kyle smiles at him. He’s got dimples in the corners of his smile. Eren’s distracted by them, they’re distracting. Kyle’s smile widens a little. “You must have been with the Survey Corps for a while then.”

“Three years.”

Kyle whistles. “Damn. You must be one heck of a soldier.” 

Eren blushes. His first instinct is to deny, but he’s been listening to what others have been telling him. Other people believe he is capable. He’s trying to emulate that in himself. “I try,” Eren says, and he’s proud of himself for getting it out.

Kyle’s smile widens. He seems to like Eren’s confidence. He leans in a little closer. Eren doesn’t move away. Kyle’s hand brushes deliberately against his arm. “I heard a rumour that great soldiers are also great dancers.” Kyle’s eyes squint a little when he smiles, voice close. “You a good dancer, soldier?”

He has a little out of body experience at that moment. Like time stops for a while and he’s able to process what’s happening. He’s about eighty five percent sure that Kyle is flirting with him right now. No one’s ever flirted with Eren so overtly before. And Kyle’s cute. Eren can count on one hand the number of people he’s found attractive recently. Actually he could count it on one finger: it would be Levi, and that would be it. Kyle’s gorgeous in a different kind of way, though. Where Levi is the sultry edge of danger and the surety of authority, Kyle is picture perfect smiles and innocent charm. Eren’s charmed. 

He knows that Kyle is coming onto him, and he has a choice here. He’s heard about these kinds of hook-ups before. They don’t have to mean anything and they’re a good testing ground for figuring out what you like and what you don’t. What’s the harm, really? 

He remembers what Mikasa said earlier. About having the time to explore. Eren wonders when he’ll next get the chance to explore like this, with the lives they live as soldiers. Historia will never get a chance like this ever in her life, and Eren’s staring his in the face. So what if he barely knows Kyle and will likely never see him again after tonight? Eren’s still a little drunk on all the things he could do. As Kyle’s hand brushes further up his arm, Eren’s body yearns curiously for this new feeling. Here Kyle is, offering some experience. He thinks, why the hell not?

Maybe that’s why he feels his lips curl up in a smirk. He leans forward and brushes his own fingers against Kyle’s knee. “Why don’t you ask me to dance and find out?”

Kyle laughs. It’s a little too loud in the quiet of the bar, but Eren doesn’t mind. “Okay, I’ll bite. Dance with me?” He offers Eren his hand. He takes it in his. It’s smoother than the hands he’s used to clasping, roughened by the handle of blades. It’s almost as smooth as Eren’s own, constantly healing ones. 

He follows Kyle out of the bar and into the street. The string quartet has started playing something slower and seductive. Some of the candles have gone out, and it’s as dark here as it was in the bar earlier. There are more people on the dance floor than when Eren was last on it, lending them some anonymity as they slip into the sea of bodies. Kyle leads them away to a dim corner of the dance floor, away from the view of any onlookers, and tugs Eren into a dance.

There’s something to be said about the attractiveness of the purely physical. It’s heady, a whole body experience. There’s the scent of whatever fragrance your partner is wearing brushing against your nose when you pull them in. The flash of a grin in the dark, the sound of your heart pumping to the music. The glide of fingers through your hair and lips against your cheek, brushing down your neck. They’re just bodies, in this moment. And is there anything bodies crave more than each other? Eren doesn’t think so right now. He’s dirty dancing in the street with a stranger, and it’s the closest to loving Eren’s ever come. It’s intoxicating.

He could close his eyes, and he could be anyone. Kyle could be anyone. Perhaps that’s the point of this. Perhaps any thrill will do, at this moment.

Kyle’s lips find their way back up to his ear. He whispers, “You wanna get out of here, soldier?”

Eren does.

They’re stumbling back into an alley moments later. They’re kissing, and it’s technically Eren’s first proper kiss but it's also his second and third and fourth and- He loses count. Kyle leads him into a backroom behind the bar they were in earlier. It’s empty, but for a couch and some chairs. Kyle pushes him onto the couch. Eren idly wonders if he’s done this before, and then decides it hardly matters. He wanted experience, who better to get it from than someone willing with experience?

The next few minutes are lost in the haze of touch and sensation. If you were to ask Eren later on, what he remembered of the actual physical part of the night, he would struggle to describe these moments. There are little instances that stand out to him; unbuttoning each other’s shirts, his pleasant surprise at the thrill of open-mouthed kissing, that electric shock of sensation when Kyle pressed his hips down onto Eren’s. 

He can’t detail more than those parts, because this next bit will consume too much space in his memory. He’ll revisit it all, over and over again: Eren asking to light a candle so he can see better. Kyle’s face when there’s finally enough light between them for him to realise exactly who Eren is. The words he says, looping over and over: I didn’t realise you were Eren Yeager and I don’t know how else to say this, but I’m not all that eager to fuck a titan and I’d appreaciate it if you didn’t tell anyone else. 

And loudest of all: You can't deny it man, you're not human. You’re a monster .

After Kyle leaves, Eren pinches out the candle and sits for a while. 

He spreads his unbuttoned shirt over his chest. Tries to focus his breathing. He’s always known it’s a little strange, his intense need to hold a separate identity from his titan form. Armin doesn’t really have the same issue. If anything, Armin’s taken his new ability in stride. He once told Eren that he’s secretly so happy for it, because he’s finally able to know with absolute certainty that he isn’t that fragile, bullied kid that needs rescuing anymore. 

But Eren? He wonders if he’ll ever be able to see his titan form as something good. He’s grown a lot over the last few years. The true origin of the titans has taught him that nothing is ever clearly good or clearly bad, and as a consequence, his hatred for the titans has dwindled away within him. He’s seen the uses of his titan form in the construction of Fort Erwin, too. He knows it’s not just a monstrous weapon. But the truth is, there’s too much pain associated with it. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to celebrate it. 

Perhaps he could have learnt to accept his titan form, had he not been stuck in this fight with Marley. They’ve been on the backfoot since Wall Maria fell, desperately playing catch up. As a result, Eren has been trained to self-harm on command. He’s been shot at with cannon fire, dropped down an empty well for hours, had all his limbs cut off, and fallen from fifty foot walls. 

All with nothing to show that he had endured it.

It’s so cruel, Eren thinks, tears in his eyes, that he heals over all these injuries so completely. He thinks he might go crazy sometimes. To feel all that pain, and never be able to prove it was real, that it happened to him. To never have a real reason to ask them to stop. 

It has created this awful duality in Eren. How can he look and feel so human, and still be a monster? How could he go through such monstrous things, and still be alive? It’s not possible. It can’t be part of him, it can’t . He exhales a breath dangerously close to a sob.

No, he doesn’t think he can ever accept his titan form as a part of his own self. It might be easier to fight off the pain of Kyle’s words if he did, if it was part and parcel of his identity, something he accepted. Instead, it just hovers over him like an ugly spectre, chained to him forever.

The spectre begins to murmur: you’re a monster, you’re a monster, you’re a monster.

He doesn’t light the candle again.

Eren eventually makes his way out of the room, numb to his bones. He feels heavy and sluggish and on the verge of tears. As he leaves the party to return to the dormitories, he manages to avoid bumping into anyone he knows. He doesn’t catch sight of Kyle anywhere either, thank fuck. He wishes he could just snag a bottle and drink his sorrows, but he won’t take the risk of accidentally transforming. 

Instead he locks himself in his room, does so many push-ups that steam billows from his palms and shoulders and he’s too exhausted to hold himself up. He falls asleep lying prone on the floor.

The next few days are tough on Eren. He manages to put off having to interact with any one person for too long because everyone’s too preoccupied dismantling the party apparatus or touring with the Queen. Eren volunteers for cleaning duty under Levi, which no one else is masochistic enough to do, and spends hours washing tablecloths. It’s mindless and repetitive, and does nothing to help break the echo of Kyle’s words in his head.

Eventually, he stops being able to continue his self-imposed solitude. Armin has managed to clear time in their schedules for Eren to undergo the weapons experiments. Squad Levi and the research team, plus the usual, nosy suspects (Jean and Mikasa) file obediently behind Hange-san into the courtyard. A wave of nostalgia hits Eren. He remembers abruptly the titans they captured years ago. Sonny and Bean, Annie’s mercy killings. He remembers, too, all the experiments they conducted on him here. His body aches in remembered, phantom pangs.

There’s a large, tarp tent set up off to the side of the courtyard and they all file around to stare at it inquisitively. Hange uncovers it with a flourish. 

“Woah, that’s a huge ass sword,” Connie says. He moves to lie down next to it. “Is it bigger than me?”

“Most things are probably bigger than yours,” Jean snarks. Mikasa shakes her head disappointedly at him, but there’s something fond about the action that wasn’t there before.

Connie squawks at Jean and then they’re off tackling each other. 

The others elect to collectively ignore them. The weapons are actually longer than Connie is tall. They’re about the length of a horse-drawn cart and Eren guesses they were made that size for ease of transportation. They’re dual-wielded blades, obviously meant to be used in tandem, with large brass handles affixed to them. Not unlike the ones that have been used by the Survey Corps all this while. Beside them are a regular pair which Eren recognises as standard issue equipment. 

“So,” Armin begins. “In theory, the training we received as recruits in wielding them should carry over in titan form, correct?”

Eren nods. “I remembered and could replicate the hand-to-hand manoeuvres Annie taught me.”

“Good. We’d like to see you transform and attempt to replicate basic motion sets. If it works, we’ll have to give you enhanced weapons training in human form so you’ll be able to make the most out of them even without ODM gear.” Armin smiles, nodding towards the standard issue blades.

“We’d also appreciate any feedback you can give us on them,” Hange adds. “These are just the first draft. No one’s actually been able to wield them, so we suspect we’ll have to go through several rounds of testing. But once that’s complete, it’ll be as Armin said. Of course, we’ll have to repeat this process with any other weapons we fabricate.”

Mikasa smiles at Eren. “With all this weapons training, you’ll end up the most deadly one of us all, Eren.”

“Hah,” snorts Eren tiredly. “The day that happens is the day Captain Levi dismembers me.”

“True. Can’t have you stealing my job, brat.” Levi nods. “Now, come on. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner Hange stops talking about it.”

They get started. Someone rolls out a giant titan stand-in that’s vaguely person shaped. Hange and Armin set up a little observation desk, and some other Survey Corps members come with sketchbooks. The others equip ODM gear just in case they need to cut him out of a sticky situation, idly chatting amongst themselves. 

Eren walks further into the centre of the courtyard, trying to calm his breathing. This will be the first time he’ll have to transform since what happened at the party. He’s been feeling numb lately, forcefully ignoring his titan abilities to avoid remembering what Kyle said. He’s been pretending, just for a little while, that he’s only human. 

It definitely wasn’t a good idea. After all, he’ll never be able to go the rest of his life without transforming. And now he’s forced himself to confront this in front of a crowd. There’s nothing for it now, though. Eren bites forcefully into the skin of his left hand and waits for the transformation to kick in. 

Only, nothing happens.

He blinks in shock, double checking that he bit deep enough. But yes, there’s blood staining the inside of his mouth and dripping down his hand. He’s… not sure what’s happening. He hasn’t had this problem since he fought Annie in Stohess. 

Could it be… you’re reluctant to fight Annie? 

That’s what Mikasa had said back then. That’s what this is too, probably. He’s reluctant to see his titan form, to be a monstrous fifteen foot tall giant. To wield weapons that will make him an even scarier monster. Eren’s breathing speeds up and he tries valiantly to calm down. 

He’ll just have to try again. He bites down, spilling blood. No dice. He bites, again and again, pressing deeper into the cuts in the hope that he’ll trigger something with the pain. He drags in a ragged breath, scratching at his hand. Why won’t it- he can’t-

“Eren,” says Levi. A hand moves to push his face away. Levi’s standing in front of him, expression impassive. Eren’s lucky. The others are still chatting behind them, unaware anything’s wrong. Levi’s the only one who’s noticed so far. “Stop hurting yourself. If you couldn’t transform the first time, injuring yourself more isn’t gonna trigger it.”

He’s right, of course. Eren’s just… Eren just wants it to be over. He drags in a ragged gasp, “I don’t know why it’s not working.” 

Levi’s hand drops away from his face and onto Eren’s shoulders. He squeezes firmly, and the pressure helps ground Eren a little. “What are you thinking of right now?”

“Nothing? I don’t know. I just…” He sighs, too tired to adopt pretences. “I just don’t wanna be a titan right now.”

Levi stares at him for a long moment. Then he says, “I don’t understand.” 

Eren frowns down at him in confusion. What’s not to understand? Levi’s eyes are narrowed, his face fierce. “You’ve never been a titan,” he says plainly.

And Eren- Eren’s breath stills a little in his lungs. He remembers telling Levi about this, about how he doesn’t view himself this way. He didn’t expect Levi to remember or to stick by it so fiercely. This acceptance from him, after the harsh alienation of Kyle’s remarks, warms Eren down to his bones.

“It’s just like a tool for you to use, right? Well, think of it this way. You need to pick up that tool first to wield those other ones.” He gestures at the gigantic swords sitting on the grass beside them. “Remember when we were constructing the gates to the Fort? And the guy who forged the metal parts, he had to put on those gloves to stand the heat?” 

Eren nods, eyes transfixed on Levi’s face. “I remember.”

“That’s all you need to do, Eren. Just put on the gloves.” Levi shrugs. “You aren’t the gloves themselves, idiot. Don’t worry too much about it.”

Eren smiles, biting down on it when it grows a little too tender. His heart is stuttering in a rhythm far removed from the panic of earlier. “Thank you, captain.”

“You’re okay to continue?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay, brat, time to make me proud.” Levi smirks, clapping him on the arm. “I’ve got a bet going with Hange. You’ll win it for me, won’t you? I wanna see you cut that dummy’s head off with one swing.”

Eren huffs a laugh, dropping into a mockingly sloppy salute. Levi cuffs the back of his head for it as he moves to give Eren space. Eren takes a deep breath, scratching idly at a cut on his hand to make sure it hasn’t started to heal. It’s still fresh. 

He takes a deep breath, and pictures the tool he will wield.

Eren transforms into his titan in the centre of the open courtyard and the others break off their conversations at the sight. He stands still a little while, centering himself after this small victory. 

Then he moves to pick up the swords. They’re a little light and the balance is a little odd, but they’re evenly weighted in his hand. He tests the sharpness against his skin. It slices through the skin of his titan forearm like butter. Mikasa has sharpened them well. 

“Oi,” snaps Levi, a scowl on his face. He’s standing beside the dummy target. “Less slicing your titan and more slicing the actual target.” 

Eren huffs a nod and moves his titan form forward. He stops a few paces back and levels a sword at its nape. He swings his arm back, braces his feet and twists his arms in the familiar motion of severing a titan’s head. 

There’s a swish that sounds like ripping fabric. 

Eren has ended up facing away from the target and he looks over his shoulder. In the silent courtyard, the detached head of the cloth dummy lies flat on the ground. It’s a clean cut, over and done with in seconds. Eren exhales and straightens. He did it in one go after all. 

It’s silent for a beat more, and then there’s that sound that Eren always ends up searching for. 

Levi’s laughing. He’s looking up at Eren from the ground. His cheeks are rosy and there are little crinkles around the corners of his eyes. “Eren,” he says. “You’re a fucking miracle.”

Oh.

Oh. 

There’s something about the way Levi says that. It makes something clench in Eren’s chest. The words Kyle was spewing that have been looping in his head for days abruptly screech to a halt. New words take up the space and begin to echo instead, a miracle, a miracle, a miracle. And Eren-

He wants closer. He wants to curl up into the space between Levi’s words and dwell a little while.

Eren’s heart gives a little beat of realisation. He just wants, doesn’t he? He does. There’s a reason praise hits him harder when it comes from Levi, why he can tell the story, down to the last detail, of the last time he saw Levi smile. He doesn’t just think Levi’s attractive. It’s so much more than that, isn’t it? He’s transfixed now, at the way Levi looks, at the way the way he looks makes him feel. Eren’s a mess. 

Hange’s cheer brings him back to himself. The others are clapping, but it’s tapered off a little, like they’ve been clapping for awhile. Mikasa is watching him curiously. Hange yells up at him, “Excellent Eren! We could really be onto something here. Try some forms for me?”

He steps back and continues through some motions from his Survey Corps training robotically, mind fixed on something else. When did this happen? When Levi brought him food? When he saved his life the first time? When he beat him up three years ago? God, Eren has a crush on someone who once roughed him up so badly he lost a tooth. That’s so messed up.

But, he remembers, Levi had only hurt Eren in the first place so he could join the Scouts instead of being sent to the Military Police for execution. Which wasn’t the kindest of tactics, granted, but he knows they didn’t have many options. Thinking back on the last few years, Levi’s saved his life in more ways than one. Eren remembers the initial shock and horror of learning he could transform into a titan. He’d felt so lost, so unsettled, so afraid of himself. Levi hadn’t just given him a future in the Survey Corps, he’d tried to give him something worse to fear than himself. It was a hopeless gesture, in hindsight. Eren could never think Levi a monster.

And besides, Levi’s obviously grown since then to embrace more effective methods. He just talked Eren off the edge of a panic attack with cute jokes and sweet affirmations.

What a lost cause, Eren thinks desperately, I was doomed from the beginning.

He really was, wasn’t he? Levi is everything Eren covets. Capability, guidance, security. Approval. He hadn’t given Eren a new monster, but a safety net. Eren has never been afraid of hurting Levi. He’s never felt monstrous or terrifying or that he should hold himself back. Levi is the strongest person Eren’s ever known. 

He’s also gorgeous.

Gosh, Eren’s so done for.

What was he thinking, experimenting with Kyle? When were experiments ever pleasurable experiences for Eren? He’s always been the type to care too much. He’s almost fanatical about his passions. He should know by now that when he falls, he’ll fall hard. And already he feels so ashamed of going off with Kyle. What was that momentary attraction compared to the pure, stuttering earnestness of these new feelings? It’s laughable.

He finishes the set, and sticks the swords into the ground. Hange, Armin and the whole observing team are frantically making notes, minds too busy buzzing with ideas to give any more instructions. He looks to his superior officer instead. 

Levi’s shaking his head at the observers. “Nerds,” he mutters. Eren can tell he’s trying to be snarky but it just comes out fond. Eren feels so fond about how fond Levi is. “Come on, Eren, let’s get you out of there.” 

(Out of there. Like he’s acknowledging Eren isn’t his titan form. It’s like a tool for me to use, Eren had said. And Levi had listened, twisting the arrow in deeper being all respectful of Eren’s insecurities and shit).

He’s blushing again. How did he not figure it out earlier with all the blushing? 

Levi kicks him on his titan’s giant shin and Eren jumps out of his thoughts. As he emerges, he hopes they blame his red cheeks on the steam. Connie lands on the nape of his titan form to help him down. 

Once he’s on the ground, Mikasa asks, “Are you okay, Eren?”

He desperately tries to convey with his eyes that he does not appreciate her line of questioning. “Yup, I’m fine.” 

She raises an eyebrow, eyes flickering to Levi and back, silently asking if he’s the problem. Eren widens his eyes to discourage her, subtly shaking his head. Mikasa's own eyes widen in sudden understanding. Eren’s shaking increases in desperation. Mikasa nods, trying so hard to keep her facial features subtle that they’re not subtle at all. 

Jean looks between them, frowning. “What the hell is up with you two?”

Mikasa and Eren turn matching vicious glares his way. He falters. 

Armin and Hange jog up to their group. Hange asks, “How did the swords feel, Eren? Were they similar to the standard ones?”

Eren turns gratefully towards the distraction of giving reports. “Not really, the balance was a little too far back. And we should consider using something heavier on the handle, unless we plan for me to throw them at something.”

Hange and Armin look at him like he hung all the stars in the sky. “You could throw them?”

“I mean,” Eren’s a little freaked out by their faces right now. “I don’t see why not?”

“Change back,” says Hange, smacking him on the arm in excitement. Eren tries to subtly lean away. “Change back, now.” 

“I don’t think so, four-eyes,” Levi interjects, pushing Hange off of Eren. Eren’s heart gives a traitorous clench. “Your training dummy is missing a head.”

“He could throw swords at its body!”

Connie adds pitifully, “We haven’t even eaten. I see Sasha coming towards us now and if I tell her we’re not going to have lunch, there’s going to be bloodshed.” 

They turn as one to the far side of the field, where Sasha is heading towards them. There’s a familiar lackadaisical quality to her movements, a key indicator that she’s getting hungry. As one, they shudder. 

“Yup, maybe we’re done for the day,” agrees Hange. 

Eren wishes he had time to mull over this new discovery for himself. Levi’s only, like, the second person Eren’s ever had a real crush on ever, and jeez, he can’t even think about it without going red. Mikasa’s been shooting him suspicious looks for ages and he knows it won’t be long before she confronts him about this. 

What’s Eren supposed to say, though? All of this feels so new. And, as he admires the side of Levi’s profile over lunch, he notes that it feels so unreachable, too.

Sexuality within the Walls isn’t something that’s fussed over. With so little of humanity left, love is something that’s celebrated. Even in Shiganshina alone, there were all kinds of people who were drawn to all kinds of people in all kinds of ways. But Eren’s aware that interests don’t always align.

Levi’s straight. Eren’s like, ninety percent sure. He’s fairly certain the Captain and Petra-san had a thing way back in the day. Eren has had no reason to suspect he might like men, in any case.

There’s also the age difference. Frankly, Eren doesn’t give a damn about the almost fifteen years between them. There’s something about carrying home the dead bodies of your comrades that really builds up the wisdom in you. That being said, Eren knows that you can never really be sure what you don't know until you learn it. So, even if Levi was into guys, he might not be into being with someone who can’t even legally drink yet. 

Why does Eren do this to himself? Why couldn’t he find a nice boy, his age and equally as inexperienced, to make heart eyes at? 

He pauses. 

Well, he supposes he did try that. It didn’t work out quite so well for him.

The fluttering butterflies that have been singing Levi’s praises in his stomach sputter into non-existence. He’s suddenly back there, remembering the party. Kyle had seemed nice, too. He’d said Eren was a heck of a soldier. He’d seemed like a perfectly attractive, reasonable option. Even when he’d been spewing out hate, there’d been something so logical about what he was saying.

You’ve eaten someone before, haven’t you? They taught us in training that you guys need to eat someone to become a titan. You can’t even deny it man… you’re a monster.

He was right, whispers a voice Eren doesn’t know how to refute. He knows that even if Levi was interested in men and was unbothered by the age gap, there’s no way he’d want Eren. There’s no way anyone could want Eren, really. 

Eren lets out a sigh and plunks his head onto the table. 

“Okay, that’s it. Mikasa, you’re not scaring me away this time,” Jean says, holding a hand up to block Mikasa’s face from view. He glares at Eren. “What is up with you today?”

Since Eren’s now convinced that he will never be mature enough for Levi and is doomed to an eternity alone, he decides to bask in his inner childishness. “I’ve been feeling sick ‘cause I’ve had to see your face all day.”

“Wanna repeat that, you suicidal maniac?”

Eren snorts. “You seriously need to get new insults.”

Jean pauses, pouting a little. “I haven’t seen you in like a year, man, give me a break.”

“Okay, okay, fine. Go on.”

“I said; ‘Do you wanna repeat that, you suicidal maniac?’”

“Depends. Not sure if you would hear me over the sound of your own voice echoing in there.” Eren knocks his knuckles against his own head to demonstrate his point. 

“You little shit. Don’t make me come over there,” says Jean, making to come around to Eren’s side of the table.

“I dare you,” says Eren, only half joking. He’d kill for the mindlessness of a fist fight with Jean right now. 

A hand thumps against the back of his head, sending him forward. He has to brace all his muscles to stop himself from falling face-first into his soup. Levi’s hand fists in his hair and he uses it to turn Eren’s face towards himself, seated on Eren’s right (because Eren is a masochist). “Do I need to remind you idiots that there are other people enjoying lunch at this table?” Levi makes a sweeping gesture with his other hand at the people sitting around them.

Eren doesn’t turn to look at the others. Levi’s face is really close. Eren is so not reacting appropriately to this. 

“Sorry,” Jean mutters, but he doesn’t sound very repentant.

Eren’s never noticed before, but Levi’s eyes actually have flecks of blue in there with the grey. Those blue-grey eyes blink. “Eren?” Levi asks, frowning.

Eren snaps out of it, blushing horribly. “So- sorry! Sorry, sir.” He wrenches himself out of Levi’s hold. What is he doing? He shouldn’t- Levi doesn’t need to be burdened with the knowledge that someone like Eren might have feelings for him. He needs to keep it together. He supplies some bullshit excuse, “I think I’m not feeling well.”

Levi’s eyes are narrowed, whether in concern or suspicion, Eren isn’t sure. He must think it has something to do with their earlier conversation, because he doesn’t comment on it. “Alright. Why don’t you sleep it off then? Crazy and Crazier can pick up their experiments with you tomorrow.”

“Hey!” protests Armin. “Wait, am I Crazy or Crazier?”

“Definitely Crazier,” Sasha declares imperiously. 

Eren pays their conversation no mind. He’s aware Levi’s eyes are still on him, and probably some of the others’ too, as he stands up and gathers his cloak. He can feel that his cheeks are still flushed so he leans forward a little to let his hair cover it. “I’ll uh, I’ll see you all tomorrow, then.” He bolts.

He can hear Hange sigh from somewhere down the table. “It’s like when he was fifteen all over again.”

Eren doesn’t head back to his room to rest. He knows if he does, he’ll wallow in his thoughts and the echo will just be worse. Instead, he walks mindlessly through the base, never staying in one room too long for fear of being caught by one of the others. Eventually, he finds himself in the guest wing of the barracks. He picks up a duster and mindlessly begins dusting the eaves. He can kind of understand why Levi fixates on cleanliness, now. It distracts from the numbness.

But Eren isn’t just feeling numb, now. There’s a buzzing under his skin that vibrates with hate. God, he wishes he’d never met Kyle. More so, he wishes he’d never gotten this power, never had to suffer through all this bullshit. He wishes Reiner and Bertolt hadn’t broken through Wall Maria. Actually, he wishes his father had never stolen the power of the Founding Titan or crossed the fucking ocean or been born at all-

He’s broken the duster. 

He stares blankly at the half of the handle still clutched in his hand, then at the feather end lying pathetically at his feet. He feels the weight of eyes on him, and looks up. There’s an open door to one of the guest rooms and through it, his eyes meet startled, cornflower blue ones.

He remembers belatedly that Historia is still touring HQ.

She’s seated on a chaise lounge in a small sitting area they’ve set up for her. Someone has given her a small notepad she holds on her lap, likely a schedule of Survey Corps activity for her to drop in on and visit. There must be something about the way he looks right now, because Historia’s eyes are wide in concern. “Eren,” she calls across to him. “Come here.”

Eren can’t refuse her. Still shaken by the force of his hatred, he makes his way to her. Eren keeps his head down when he reaches her, bowing at the waist. “Your Majesty.”

“Please, none of that.” She dismisses, casual in the absence of public attention. “Come, have tea with me.” 

She gestures for him to sit across from her and pours him tea in mugs far prettier than any Eren’s used before. He wonders how long it took before Historia got used to them. As it is, Eren clutches at his with both hands for fear of dropping it, despite the burn of its heat against his palms.

He thinks Historia will tell him why she’s called him in here, but she lets the quiet fill the space between them, punctuated only by the sound of tea being sipped. It’s sweet, and warm. Eren lets it combat the heat inside him a little. 

When he realises Historia doesn’t plan to say anything, Eren breaks the silence between them. “Why did you call me in here?”

She shrugs. “You looked like you needed help. And I promised myself a long time ago that I would never turn my back on someone who needs my help.”

Eren smiles despite himself, hollow but fond. Historia’s changed so much but the core of her, that goodness, remains. Ymir would be proud. “Thank you. I-” He stops.

“You don’t have to tell me,” says Historia, solemnly. “But I’m happy to listen if you want to.”

Eren nods. He finds he does. He’s in that frame of mind where he’s repeated it to exhaustion and it’s settled into the background. He says it to himself enough times, what’s the difference in saying it to someone else for once?

“I hooked up with someone,” Eren admits slowly. “At the party last weekend. Only, he hadn’t realised who I was.”

Historia hums. Her voice is deliberately neutral. “You hid your identity from him?”

“What? No. Not intentionally,” Eren clarifies, waving his hand in front of his face. Eren continues, “He didn’t tell me his last name, so I didn’t tell him mine either. I didn’t know who he was. I still don’t, really. Just that he was a soldier in the Survey Corps too, and it was one of those things where it’s… less about what you know, and more about what you see, you know?”

Eren cringes, feeling self-conscious. He’s starting to feel the edge of panic creep up on him as he explains it, but there’s no use for it now, not when he’s already started. “Anyway, we flirted a little, danced some. He asked if I wanted to get out of there. I- I did, so we went to the back room of this bar. We were- we didn’t have sex,” He rushes to clarify, waving his hands in front of his face, “but we did do some other stuff. I suggested we light a candle.” 

Here, he pauses. Eren almost can’t bear it, but he chances a glance at Historia anyway. Her face is still free of judgement. Eren calms down a little. “I wanted to see everything clearly, so I could remember my first time. Only, when the room was lit…”

Eren finds there’s something in his throat. Historia’s eyes are sympathetic. She wordlessly refills his tea. “Thanks,” he mutters softly. He can’t make himself speak any louder. “When I lit the candle, he did a double take at my face. There was this look he had, Historia- it was fear, and shame, and- and disgust. I was confused and I reached for him, and he said: ‘I didn’t realise you meant that you were Eren Yeager.”

“Oh, Eren,” Historia says softly.

“I asked him why that mattered, and he said that he’d seen me in Stohess, he knew I was a- a monster, that he wouldn’t - that no one would want-” Eren stops, trying to swallow around the panic and unpleasantness he’s come to associate the memory with.

He doesn’t expect Historia to understand the ugly context of it all. Eren’s dysphoria, his hatred for his titan form. His need to be separate from it and all it represents. 

Still, she says, “Eren, that’s awful. You didn’t deserve that.” 

He finds there are tears in his eyes and he tries to grit his teeth to keep them in, but they fall down his cheeks anyway. It’s so embarrassing, he hates it, scrubbing his arm against his face. What’s the use in crying about it? It’s not like Kyle had lied. “You don’t get it, Historia. He was right, you see? I am a monster. I ate my own father, for fuck’s sake. I must have killed innocent people myself in Stohess and I’ve killed so many soldiers indirectly, forcing them to sacrifice themselves for this- this awful thing that I am-”

“Eren.” Historia’s voice is angry and absolute. “That’s enough. None of that is true.”

“How can it not be true?”

“Why do you say that you’re a monster? Because you can transform into a titan? Armin does. In fact, my family has held titans for generations. My big sister held the Power of the Founding Titan before you, and Freida was one of the best people I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing. 

“And,” declares Historia, voice firm and uncompromising, “so was Ymir.”

Eren quiets a little. He turns his tear stained eyes to hers. Though her voice is impassive, her eyes are ablaze with righteous fury. “Do you think you’re a monster because people sacrificed their lives to save yours? People have done the same for me. My guards are prepared to do it every day. I have a poison taste tester, did you know? He’s literally meant to die so I don’t have to. It’s ridiculous, but I allow it because it’s necessary. Am I a monster, Eren?”

He stares mutely at her. Every word she speaks rings with conviction. She’s never seemed as queenly to him as she looks now. “He was wrong. You’re no more a monster than I am. You’re certainly no more a monster than any other titan shifter within these walls, and I say you’re all heroes. And I’m the fucking Queen, so there.”

Eren snorts despite himself. “I thought Queens weren’t supposed to curse.”

“Like you’d tell on me, anyway.” Historia scoffs. She’s right, he wouldn’t. He realises now, sitting in her presence, that there’s so much they’ve been through together that no one else can relate to. He remembers sitting in that underground chamber under the Reiss family church, chained and sobbing like he is now. Historia had cut him free then, too. 

Historia says, “You know, Eren, you and I, we’re not so different from each other. And I’m not just talking about other people dying for us. I’m talking about loneliness, and feeling trapped in a position someone else has made for you. My mother treated me like I was a monster for my entire childhood. Then I watched her die in front of me. And when I finally met my father, he wanted to use me for his own ends. We’re the same, Eren.” 

Historia eyes him sadly, then raises a hand and gently cradles the side of his face. 

All of a sudden, there’s an image of golden synapses flashing across his vision. Then, his father poised over him with a syringe, tears leaking from his eyes. Eren can hear his voice, young and fraught, begging for him to stop. 

Historia tears her hand away, gasping. She wasn’t wearing gloves.

“I’m sorry. I forgot that it did that,” she says, hurriedly tugging a pair of finely made gloves out of her coat pocket and onto her hands. 

"It's okay,” Eren pants, pressing a palm against his chest to calm his suddenly racing heart.

She turns her sad eyes to him. “Was that when you inherited the Attack Titan from your father?”

“Yes.”

“I could hear you, asking him to stop. You didn’t even know what he was going to do, did you?” She asks. Eren shakes his head. She clutches his hands in her now gloved ones. “You didn’t ask for your life to turn out this way any more than I did, Eren. We’re both victims of the circumstances of our lives. But we don’t need to be beholden to them. We can choose to use them to our advantage. And if people think that’s monstrous, then let them. I’d rather be a monster of my own making than anyone else’s.” 

Eren stares at her, transfixed. Ymir would be so, so proud. He’ll appreciate this moment, Historia’s matchless certainty, for the both of them. 

“Anyway, you’re so much more than a titan shifter, Eren. You’re kind, honest and so stupidly brave.” Eren laughs, his cheeks wet with tears. Historia thumbs them away. “I know how trapping it can feel. But that asshole,” Eren snorts “was wrong. He was an idiot, and he was cruel. Don’t let him chain you to a future you won’t even possess. There will be people who will love you, Eren. Haven’t there already been?”

She smiles kindly at him. Eren realises she’s talking about Mikasa, who’s affection, he supposes, must have been fairly obvious to the others. He realises also that she’s manipulated him into a corner. If it was anyone else, he might have dismissed their feelings as fanciful, or stupid, or some kind of cruel prank. But she knows he won’t disrespect Mikasa that way. 

He’s forced to acknowledge her point instead. To realise that he has been loved, and wanted by someone who’s opinion he respects more than most. He realises Mikasa's love means more to him than Kyle’s disgust. What is the weight of Kyle’s opinion, really? He knew Eren for all of twenty minutes. Mikasa, though. She’s seen him through his bratty years. She’s seen him transform millions of times. She’s even had his titan take a swing at her. Hell, she met him when he killed two people in front of her.

And still, she saw him as someone worth loving.

He realises that all the people who’ve really taken the time to know him have never treated him like a monster. His classmates took the news of his ability remarkably well, never being hostile towards him for it. Even the construction teams outside the Wall grew to be warm and welcoming with him. He remembers how Squad Levi had threatened him in the beginning, but they’d apologised so genuinely. And they’d protected him with their lives, in the end.

“You’re right,” Eren says, quietly. He smiles at Historia (she really is an angel. Armin was right, all those years ago).

“Obviously. Queens are always right.” She smirks. “Now, do you understand that he was wrong?”

Eren nods dutifully, a smile still on his lips. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. I hate assholes like that. Tell me what he looks like and I’ll have him punished somehow.”

“What? No. Historia, you can’t do that.”

“Says who?”

“What- Okay, you could, but you don't have to. It’s a private matter." 

“He acted in a way unbecoming of a soldier in an army of my name. Besides, I don’t want anyone who thinks such untrue things about you to be guarding your back.”

“Historia- thank you, but it's really not necessary. You’ve proven to me that he was wrong. And I have people that I can trust watching my back anyway.” Eren smiles.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Eren says wryly. “But if I change my mind, I’ll let you know.”

“Good,” she says, haughtily. “What’s the point of having power if you can’t even use it?”

She’s so right, isn’t she? Eren’s been thinking of this all wrong. It is separate from him, all the worst parts. The eating of his father, the initial transformations that led to catastrophe in Stohess and Trost. Those were the actions of others, out of his control. What he can control, he’s used for good. He can be proud of what he’s done with it. What a shame it would be, if all the good stopped being done because he was too afraid of himself. 

Eren’s not stupid, he knows it will take awhile for the awful voice in his head and these feelings of self-loathing to disappear. But now that he knows there’s a path forward, the burden seems easier to bear somehow.

He has been loved, and he can be loved again. And Historia’s right. He’d much rather own his monster. 

Spoken like that, the word doesn’t cut him to the knees anymore. He can’t give this power to anyone else. He can’t run away from all the things associated with it, all the hate people like Kyle might spew. But Kyle only said those words once. It was Eren who perpetuated their existence in his own mind. He knows now that even if he can’t rid himself of his demons, they can still be tamed. Eren’s been weak before. He refuses to let anyone, not even himself, make him feel weak again.

What’s the point in having power if you can’t even use it?

Historia smirks at him over the table, her eyes twinkling. She raises her cup in a wordless toast, and he gently taps his own against hers. The clink of their glasses rings crisp in the air.

The sweetness of the sound makes the next few seconds all the more jarring.

There’s an almighty crash as the doors to Historia’s sitting room fly open, a small army of her personal guards tumbling in. Eren and Historia stand and Eren instinctively moves forward to shield her. “What the hell is going on?” Historia asks, forgetting herself.

“Your Majesty, you must return to the capital.” Her guard’s lack of chastisement must say something about the severity of the situation, because Historia pales. 

A Survey Corps soldier rushes in through the open doors, stumbling to a stop in front of Eren. He recognises him as Pierre, one of the new recruits from the 105th that Levi’s been terrorizing with cleaning duties. “Sir,” Pierre gasps. “Captain Ackerman’s been looking everywhere for you. You’re needed urgently at the stables.”

“Why? What’s going on?” demands Eren.

Pierre’s face is grave. “It’s Fort Erwin. The enemy is on the ocean.”

Chapter Text

“Where the hell have you been?” snaps Captain Levi. 

The stables are bustling, soldiers who are already saddled forming lines in front of the gate. Others are shrugging on ODM gear or filling up on gas. It’s chaos. Sasha and Connie are checking through their satchels, already mounted. Eren shrugs through the crowds to stand beside Levi. He snaps into a salute. “I was in the guest wing with Her Majesty. We didn’t realise something had happened. I’m sorry, sir.”

“For fuck’s sake, Eren. I sent you to your room, not to have tea with the Queen. If we didn’t need you, I’d have left you behind.” Levi scowls, genuinely angry. 

Eren’s guilt mounts. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“Get on the damn horse, I’ll brief you on the way there.”

He clambers on, bribing his horse with a couple sugar cubes that Sasha hands him. They cut ahead of the line by the gate, up to the front where Hange and Armin’s squad are assembled. When Hange catches sight of Eren, they give a nod to the guards at the gate and the massive wooden doors that shield the compound are hefted open. 

It’s almost dusk, and the setting sun paints them in shades of orange. Despite the repaired gates in Shiganshina and Trost which allow them to head straight for the south, it’s just over a full day’s ride from the Survey Corps Headquarters in Wall Rose to Fort Erwin. Eren hopes they’ll make it there before sunset the following day, or the darkness of night will limit their visibility and further delay any support they can offer to the garrison at the Fort.

He pulls his horse astride Levi’s and the Captain turns to face him. “At 0900 this morning, a scout stationed at Fort Erwin’s southern mounted tower noticed what they described as ‘a billowing cloud of steam on the ocean’. After further inspection, it appears the steam is originating from a large metal boat of some kind.”

“A metal boat?” asks Eren, incredulous. “How do they get it to float?”

“Unknown. But the steam is the real cause for concern. For it to have been visible from the tower, the amount of smoke produced must be immense. We currently know of only one thing that can produce that much steam.” 

“The Colossal Titan,” Eren whispers.

“Yes,” Levi says. His voice is measured and his face gives nothing away. But Eren has known him for long enough now to detect the faint twist of nervousness in his eyes. 

“But that’s impossible. Armin holds that titan power and no two people can hold the same power at once.”

“There are Colossal Titans within the Walls.”

“Not sentient ones! For them to operate a boat, they must be intelligent, meaning they must be a titan shifter. Which should be impossible.”

“That’s entirely based on the information contained within your father’s journals. We have had no way of confirming or denying any of it, so we’re forced to take it as truth. But let’s say your father didn’t lie. Then according to him, there are nine titan powers. We’ve so far encountered only eight of those. This could be the ninth.” Levi shakes his head. “There’s too much we don’t know.”

“So we fight anyway?”

“Don’t we always? We’ve been at war for a hundred years, Eren. We, of all people, know how much we’re willing to sacrifice for information.” 

That’s true. They lost almost two hundred people trying to reach the basement. And while the journals have been enlightening, Levi’s right. They’ve had no way to confirm most of what’s written there, leaving them at an immense disadvantage. Their only source of knowledge on the outside world are finite, inanimate objects. Until they can secure a reliable form of information, they’ll constantly be on the backfoot. “We need to capture them,” Eren realises.

Levi gives him a nod, eyebrow raised in an impressed arch. “That’s right. But I can say from experience that capturing someone is a hell of a lot more work than just killing them.”

“Yeah, it feels that way for the captured one, too,” Eren says ruefully.

Levi snorts. “Hopefully between the both of us, we have enough experience with kidnapping to pull this off. Let’s just hope we get there before they make it to shore,” he says grimly, looking off towards the distance. 

They ride hard, with few breaks in between. As the sun begins to rise, they pass through the large stone gates of Trost in Wall Rose. Someone must have informed the Garrison ahead of time because the main street is cleared of vendors and pedestrians, allowing them to charge straight through to the interior of Wall Maria. It’s some hours more, and Eren is just beginning to worry for the horses, when they pass through Shiganshina and head out into the open world.

Eren’s first instinct is to look to the ocean, though he knows logically that he can’t see it from here. Hange fires a green smoke flare into the sky and from far afield an answering one responds. The team at the Fort know they’re here. 

When they finally arrive at Fort Erwin, they’re greeted with ordered chaos. While there are soldiers bustling back and forth, civilians have been evacuated into the town centre and there is an eerie quiet reminiscent of the calm before the storm. Someone comes to lead their horses away and they assemble in front of the barracks. The Squad Leader assigned to the Fort, a former Garrison commander named Rico Brzenska, is waiting to greet them. Eren recognises her as the former commander of the Garrison’s elite force assigned to guard him during the Battle of Trost. She nods when she catches his eye. Her hair is shorter now, but the dedicated severity of her expression is much the same. He remembers that she was the only one in her squad to survive that mission. 

“Commander Hange,” Rico says, saluting. “The metal vessel is travelling at faster speeds than expected. We believe it will reach the shore before sunrise tomorrow.”

Hange curses. “What else have we learnt from it?”

“We are fairly confident it is not powered by a titan. The vessel is too small to contain even a five-metre tall one, and we do not see one outside of it.”

“Is it possible they could have a titan shifter onboard? In human form?”

Rico’s eyes flick to Armin, then Eren. “It’s possible. We have not been able to get a clear visual of individual soldiers from this distance to confirm identification.”

“Do you know if the vessel is armed? If it has weapons of some kind?”

“Unknown.” Rico sighs. Her brows are furrowed and there are large bags under her eyes. “But we believe the soldiers carry firearms.”

Hange nods, moving to a map they’ve affixed to a board by the entrance. “Then the first thing we need to do is to get them out of the boat. I want all soldiers scouting near the ocean to fall back and for every lantern on the Fort’s walls to be unlit. We will give them no reason to assume we’ve left the Walls. Once they dismount, a small decoy team will lead them into the forest in front of the Fort.” Hange circles a cluster of trees on the map that separates the Fort from the ocean. “The rest of us will be waiting there. We’ll have a ground team waiting on the forest floor to engage with the enemy first. We’ll have another small team hidden in the trees at the entrance, blocking their escape and engaging with the enemy from the rear. I need everyone in ODM gear. Should they reveal themselves as titan shifters, we’ll use the trees to manoeuvre around them.”

“What if there are some of them still on the boat?” Armin asks.

Hange pauses. “That’s just a chance we’re going to have to take. After we deal with the force they send out, we can turn our attention to the boat. We have to maximise the element of surprise with the enemy in the forest, eliminate them quickly and efficiently. Rico, I’ll need the Fort’s soldiers in the ground team. Jean, Armin, your squads will wait in the trees. Levi, your team will be the decoy.”

“Why am I not surprised?” drawls Levi.

Hange sighs. “You have Eren. And if there’s one thing I'd bet money on the enemy being here for, it’s to capture him.” 

“Well.” Levi smirks, voice low and dangerous. “I dare them to try.”

They get moving. Large sacks of sand are filled and dragged into the forest. Those sacks, alongside fallen trees, form makeshift barriers on the forest floor. Hange has barred them from retreating to the Fort unless absolutely necessary. Eren knows it’s because there’s no time to evacuate civilians, so it’s paramount that they cut the enemy off before they reach the Fort.

Once the preparations are complete, Eren and the rest of Squad Levi saddle their horses and make for the ocean. They hide behind a small rock outcropping at the edge of the cliff overlooking the ocean. It’s too dark to see much but if Eren squints, he thinks he can see the outline of a cloud of smoke incongruous with the perfect serenity of the beach he has come to know so well. 

As the hours pass, the boat slowly reaches the shore. Sasha and Connie equip bows and arrows to aim at the enemy. The boat makes this odd metal grating noise unfamiliar to anything Eren’s heard before as it slowly screeches itself to a halt. Soldiers are moving in organised chaos on the deck of the boat, checking rifles and throwing a rope ladder off the side to dismount. Eren takes this opportunity to survey his enemy.

They’re fair, maybe a little fairer than he is from what he can tell. Most of their skin is covered in these long grey uniforms that are dreadfully bland and do nothing to conceal them from the enemy’s sights. They’ve all got helmets on and are wielding identical firearms. From Eren’s vantage point above them, they look like perfect copies of each other. They remind him of the blocks of stone produced by the quarry back in Fort Erwin. Cut down and sanded into identical shapes- inert, replaceable. An army of stone comes to kill them.

He hates that this beach, this ocean, this symbol of his accomplished dreams, needs to be turned into a warzone.

Eren feels all of the exhaustion and anger of the last few hours rise to the surface. Why did they even bother coming here? Provided Hange is right and they came here for him, why do they want him so desperately? He’s not interested in using his powers unprovoked. Eren’s people have never even left their island. For the last hundred years, they’ve never gone and caused trouble for anyone else. He can’t understand why they’re constantly at war.

By the time the soldiers file out of their metal boat, Eren’s been stewing in his anger for a while now. Maybe that’s what makes him reckless. He stretches his torso over the side of the rock outcropping to catch a glimpse from under their helmets. It’s a few seconds at most, but it's enough for someone to spot him. 

“Eren!” Sasha hisses, moving to pull him back. She’s not fast enough.

The force from the gunshot registers first. It throws him back behind the rocks in surprise. Next is the pain, a weird burning sensation that throbs down his arm. Eren looks down. There’s blood all over the front of his shirt. 

“Fuck, you idiot,” Levi snaps, ducking down over him. With a muttered curse, Connie runs to fetch their horses. Sasha moves to return some shots onto the beach below and Eren can hear shouts from the enemy soldiers. He can feel Levi shaking him. “Eren? Eren, can you hear me?”

“This is totally because you dared them to try and take him,” Sasha says to Levi, unhelpfully. “Never tempt fate.”

Eren blinks his eyes open, not realising he’d closed them. Levi’s frowning down at him, silhouetted against the rising sun. It paints new shadows across his perfect face. He’s really handsome. Levi’s frown deepens, he asks Sasha; “He’s delirious. What the hell do they put into these bullets?” 

“He’s not delirious, sir. Just drunk on the pain, it’s messing with his brain-to-mouth filter,” she says dryly. Eren realises he must have said that part out loud and the mortification helps cut through some of his pain. 

“Shit,” he says, gasping. Now that the numbness has faded, the agony is at the forefront of his mind. This time when Eren looks down, he notices the bullet hole. It’s gone into the end of his left collarbone, clean out through his shoulder blade. “Shit, that really hurts.”

“Hurting or not, we’re gonna need to get moving,” Sasha says, eyes on the soldiers below. “They’re coming up the cliff.”

“I have the horses!” Connie shouts from behind them.

“Come on,” Levi says. He manoeuvres Eren onto his lap, unfazed by all the blood and Eren’s disgruntled yelping. He yanks his hooded cloak off his shoulders and ties it in swathes around Eren’s chest. “That should hold ‘til you heal up. Don’t pass out on me,” Levi snaps, firm.

Eren tries to nod around the nausea. Bullet wounds are a whole new kind of pain, why did no one tell him this? Levi and Sasha shrug one of his arms over each of their shoulders and they flee down the cliff. It takes some time to hoist him onto a horse. They saddle him with Connie, while Levi takes point and Sasha keeps an eye on the enemy, bow at the ready. 

It’s agonising to be on horseback like this, but Eren can already feel the wound closing as steam radiates from his chest. The enemy soldiers make it up the cliff and Eren can see the moment they realise he’s self-healing.

Someone points at him, there’s a shout and then an arrow embeds itself into the man’s eye. Eren flinches, turning to look at Sasha. There’s a detached grimness on her face. He remembers it isn’t her first kill. It probably isn’t even her second, or third. He knows that when Rod Reiss abducted him, they had to slaughter through all of Kenny’s forces to reach him. He struggles past the initial reaction of self-loathing.

“Put your hoods up, and stick close. If they can’t pinpoint Eren, they can’t shoot us,” Levi says. They huddle their horses together, just shy of colliding. Connie and Sasha yank up their hoods. Connie helps Eren with his, struggling with the makeshift bandage across his chest. 

Eren realises at that moment that Levi doesn’t have a coat. “Sir, your-” 

Bang.

He hears the shot and it’s instinct. Eren throws himself part way off Connie’s horse, pushing against Levi’s back and forcing him to bend at the waist. Another bullet rips through Eren’s other shoulder. “Fucking son of a bitch,” Eren gasps.

Connie yanks him back, just in time for Levi to right himself before his horse bucks him off. When his captain turns to face him, his eyes are incensed. “Eren, stay down.” 

Eren’s infuriated despite himself. He could at least say ‘thank you’! Eren gasps in pain and anger, “But-”

“Stay. Down.”

Eren glares, but acquiesces. There’s not much he can do anyway, with both shoulders screeching in pain and billowing steam. He slumps against Connie’s chest, hood pulled low. He can hear the snap of Sasha firing arrows as they move the horses left and right to avoid being shot. Somehow, they manage to evade any further injuries as they breach the forest line. 

The enemy soldiers seem to pause for a second before entering the forest, several minutes behind them. Levi leads them to the clearing where the ground force is stationed. Hange, poised behind a sand sack barrier with a rifle in hand, blinks at Eren’s bloodied face. “What the hell-!” They cut themselves off. “Never mind, no time. Get up in the trees while you heal, you can’t shoot anyone like this.”

Eren also can’t operate his own ODM gear, so Connie hoists both of them up into a nearby tree. Sasha tucks their horses away and then she and Levi land beside them. Eren slumps to sit against the trunk of the tree.

Levi lands a rough kick to the side of his torso. Eren wants to complain, but it honestly hurts a lot less than some other hits Levi’s given him in the past. “You idiot,” Levi snaps, “what would have happened if you’d fallen off the horse and they had gotten you?”

“What would have happened if you’d died?” Eren snaps back.

Levi glares, voice low and eyes dangerous. “That’s not your concern. Our primary directive is to ensure your safety and survival. That applies to you, too.”

“Screw that,” Eren says, uncharacteristically obstinate. “If you’re telling me to stand by and watch you die- any of you- then you don’t know me at all.”

They lock eyes. Eren’s intimidated, but he won’t be cowed. He’s grown into himself a little over the years. He remembers the regret he felt when Petra, Eld and the other members of the original Squad Levi had died protecting him. He remembers how Armin had said he was different from Zeke because he wasn’t a coward. This isn’t something about himself that he’s willing to change, not for anyone or anything.

Before either of them can say anything though, there’s the sound of footsteps crashing through the foliage below and a yelled curse as the enemy soldiers realise what they’re up against. Some dive behind the trees. Others opt to fire straight away and find themselves riddled with bullets. 

When the smoke clears, there is the ground force uninjured with their rifles raised, and the enemy soldiers hiding behind the trees, unaware of Jean and Armin’s squads poised above them. Rico calls for them to show themselves and surrender, but apparently the enemy goes down fighting. They raise their rifles and duck around the trees, and that’s all the incentive the rear squads need to finish them off. There were no titan shifters among them after all.

Eren sees Mikasa zoom through the trees, checking to see if they missed anyone. When she gives the all clear, they begin to drop to the forest floor. Jean moves to kick a body over and Eren sees his expression twist when he comes face to face with the dead soldier. 

Hange’s voice disrupts the quiet. “Rico, have your squad clean this up. Jean, Armin, Levi, your squads with me. We head for the boat.” 

Rico salutes, and her team begins to pick up the bodies. 

The rest of them saddle back into their horses and head for the beach. Eren, shoulders almost fully healed, rides with Connie again. Hange pulls them to a stop when the boat comes into sight. They dismount and huddle together behind their horses. Hange says, “Okay, we still don’t know if the boat is weaponized, so we need to be careful about this. We’ll approach them on foot, inform them that we’ve dispatched with the earlier force and that it’s in their best interest to surrender.”

Everyone stares blankly at them. Hange blinks. “What?”

“Why would they surrender?” asks Armin.

“Yeah, what’s stopping them from pulverising us with whatever weapons the magic boat has and sailing away?” Jean asks.

“Oh, right, when I said ‘we’, I meant all of us except Eren.” The blank stares turn his way. Eren hunches his still aching shoulders. “We’ll have Eren turn into a titan and threaten them into compliance. There’s few weapons that can kill him outright.”

“Eren’s still emitting steam, he’s not fully healed yet,” protests Mikasa. She pauses, turning to him. “What happened to you, anyway?”

“He got shot,” supplies Sasha.

“Twice,” adds Connie.

Mikasa turns murderous eyes on Levi. He glares back, “Both of those times were his fault.”

“I saved your life the second time!” protests Eren, disgruntled. “You could at least say ‘thank you’.”

“If I wanted to say ‘thank you’, I would say it, brat,” Captain Levi snaps. “Can you transform or not?” 

Eren huffs, aware that he’s probably close to pouting but too petty to stop. “Yeah, I can.”

“Great!” says Hange, clapping their hands together. “Then let’s get this show on the road.”

The others get back on their horses and head towards the boat. Eren elects to transform where he is, hopefully ensuring that the light of his transformation won’t be noticed by any remaining enemy forces. It takes a minute for the transformation to take effect, it’s just a tool, just a tool, but he manages it in the end. In titan form, he can see the three squads making their way towards the boat. 

And on the boat, a lone enemy soldier drops their binoculars and runs below deck. 

Then, there is the strange creaking noise from before, when the boat docked. Eren guesses it means they’re making to pull away.

Eren roars, a warning to the squads to get out of the way. He sees them scrambling to the left, leaving a path for him to run to the boat. He charges, moving far faster than any human or horse could possibly move, and stops in the water beside the boat. He doesn’t see any soldiers on deck and doesn’t bother waiting to see if they will appear.

He bends, and hooks his titan’s arms under the boat. He’s unsure if this will even work, but they can’t risk the boat escaping and informing the enemy that they’ve left the Walls. More pressing still, they need information about the rest of the world. They can’t afford to lose that soldier.

Eren straightens, heaving under the weight of the metal boat. It’s so heavy, Eren thinks, how the hell does it float?

He feels a hook embed itself into the flesh of his titan’s shoulder. Hange lands on him, eyebrows raised. “Not what I imagined when I said you should threaten them, but hey, this works too!”

The others begin to use his titan form to hoist themselves further up. Armin’s squad lands on the boat. He turns to face them as Mikasa, Floch and the others raise their weapons and begin to scour the deck. “I don’t think the boat is weaponized. If it was, they’d have fired by now,” Armin says.

“Perhaps it only works in water?” Hange posits.

“Doubtful, but possible,” Armin agrees sceptically. 

“Squad Leader, the deck is clear. Permission to explore the lower levels?” Mikasa asks.

Armin turns to Hange. They nod and hop onto the deck beside her. “Go on, Mikasa.”

Mikasa nods, then she and the rest of Armin’s squad disappear below deck. Eren waits as the others begin to board the boat and investigate. Hange and Levi make their way across the length of the deck, noting strange alien features they’ve never seen before. Eren tries to hold still but it proves to be a challenge after a while. The boat is too heavy, and he feels the muscles of his titan’s shoulder tear and repair itself under the weight, steam flowing off his form. Levi notices, and frowns up at him. “We need to speed this up, four-eyes. Eren can’t hold on for much longer.”

“Yes,” Hange notes. “Once they apprehend the remaining forces, you can set the boat down, Eren.”

“You’re doing good, brat,” Levi tells him. Hange gives Levi a strange look but Levi doesn’t offer an explanation. Inside the nape of his titan, Eren is quietly pleased.

Several minutes later, Mikasa emerges from the lower deck with a struggling foreign man in tow. They’ve stripped him of his helmet and cuffed his hands behind his back. He’s got sandy blonde hair that sits in waves on top of his head and dark brown eyes. Mikasa throws him at Hange’s feet.

“He’s the only one on board,” says Mikasa.

“Good. You can put the boat down now, Eren,” Hange says. “Brace yourselves, everyone!”

Levi grabs the foreign soldier and latches on to the side of the boat as the others do the same. Slowly, trying to be as gentle as possible, Eren lowers the boat down onto the shore. There’s a bit of a jostle as it slides itself off his shoulder (taking the upper layer of his titan skin with it) but it’s otherwise fine. Eren counts it as a win. 

He abandons the Attack Titan in the ocean and drops down onto the deck beside Levi. His shoulders have healed while he was inside his titan and he stretches gratefully in relief. As he raises his arms, he notices the foreign soldier gaping at him. 

“You’re Eren Yeager,” the man says, stunned.

Immediately, the Survey Corps soldiers draw their guns and point it at his head. The man yelps. Levi steps fully in front of Eren, forcing the man to look at him instead. “What do you know about him?” Levi demands.

“No-nothing!” Someone clicks off the safety on their gun. The man begins to sweat profusely. “I heard the higher-ups talk about him on the way here, they said he stole the Founding Titan. That’s all I know, please!”

“You’re not one of those higher-ups?” Levi asks, unimpressed.

“No! I’m just the cook!”

“Oh, cool!” says Sasha from somewhere behind them. Eren hears Connie shush her. She mumbles a chastened ‘sorry’.

“Just the cook?” hums Levi. He kneels down so he’s eye-level with the man. He draws one of his swords and presses it firmly to the man’s neck. He waits for the man to swallow nervously before he continues. “Here’s how this is going to work: we’re going to ask you questions, and you’re going to answer them. Truthfully. If we find out you’re lying, or you pose even the slightest threat to any of us here, especially to Eren, I will kill you myself.” Levi’s voice lowers as he speaks, and he leans closer, so close that the hand holding the blade to the man’s neck presses against Levi’s own chest.

“Get away from me, island devil!” The man spits. It’s a bit pathetic, he looks terrified out of his wits.

“Devil, huh?” Levi murmurs, pressing the blade deeper. “I assure you, I’m intimately familiar with the idea of being someone’s devil. So if I were you, I’d tread very, very carefully.”

Levi pulls away, and the man gasps when the blade leaves his skin. Hange moves to take his place, kneeling down beside the foreign soldier and cooing softly. They press a damp handkerchief to the man’s forehead. “Poor thing,” they say. “What’s your name?”

The man eyes Hange distrustfully. Eren doesn’t blame him, Hange trying to be comforting just comes across as creepy. “It’s okay, you can tell me,” Hange says reassuringly.

“Niccolo,” the man says, haltingly. 

“What nation are you from?

“Marley.”

There’s a collective murmur from the squads amassed on the boat. So it is the same enemy that has come knocking, just wearing a different face. 

“And what does Marley want with us?” asks Hange.

“Why should I tell you?” Niccolo frowns. “Wait, where is everyone else? You can’t have- You can’t have killed them all!”

“They fired the first shots,” Jean says. His voice is grim and agonised, like he’s justifying it to himself too.

The man begins to struggle. “I’m not telling you anything! You can go ahead and kill me, I would rather die with the others than live beside you, demon spawn!”

Hange sighs. “The insults are really quite unnecessary. Settle down, please. It’ll be easier for all of us if you cooperate.”

Niccolo spits at them. A glob of saliva hits Hange’s face. 

There’s a moment of silent shock.

Then Levi makes a disgusted sound and slams his knee into the side of Niccolo’s head. The man drops onto the floor of the deck, unconscious. Armin makes a tsk sound. 

“Well,” sighs Hange, saliva still dripping down their face. “That’s not how I saw this going.”

They drag Niccolo back to the Fort. While they wait for him to wake up, they strategize a little. A research team, headed by Armin, will be dispatched to the boat for some time to further investigate its structure and to discover any clues about the enemy. Squad Leader Rico gives an update on the aftermath of the battle. They got away without any casualties, just some slight injuries. And they were able to salvage most of the enemy's weaponry, which will be brought back to the interior to be tested and analysed. 

Their biggest hurdle comes in the form of the enemy’s corpses. They have no idea how to dispose of the bodies. Eren, Connie and some of the others believe they should be treated respectfully in death, as they would wish to be treated themselves. Others believe it's an unnecessary courtesy for the enemy and they should be tossed back into the ocean. They’re saved from having to decide by Niccolo waking up. He remains cooperative enough to answer their questions. 

The bodies are identified with Niccolo’s help, then burnt in a mass pyre outside the Fort. They mark the first casualties in this new phase of the War with Marley. Eren doubts they’ll be the last.

With the threat handled, they bind Niccolo and escort him into the interior. He’s blindfolded, so that if he somehow manages to escape, he has no information to take back with him. He’s also bound and gagged and Eren’s heart is troubled at the sight. The others don’t seem fazed, but Eren knows they’ve not been in his position. Eren has. Eren has been bound and chained and gagged and abducted. He feels himself sympathising with Niccolo, and hates himself for it.

Once they reach the base, Niccolo is led off to the basement for holding. Eren knows he’ll be interrogated there in the next few days and avoids the basement like the plague. He’s comforted somewhat by the fact that Levi and Hange (who seem the most willing to opt for brute force tactics) are preoccupied with weapons testing and bureaucracy, respectively. Hange is summoned off to the Capital immediately upon return to give a report on the skirmish and what this could mean for their small share of humanity within the Walls.

And in order to better prepare for the inevitable battles they’ll face in the future, Squad Levi has been roped into enhanced weapons research and development. Partially because they have a reputation as being the best of the best, and partially because Eren has to go through combat training to advance the capabilities of the Attack Titan anyway.

So in the end, it falls to Jean’s squad to fish information out of Niccolo. Eren feels glad for this because for all Jean’s bluster and willingness to fight, he’s compassionate at heart. He’s more likely to play mind games and ply Niccolo with logic and reason than with fists and misemployed surgical equipment. It takes weeks (to Niccolo’s credit), but eventually he caves. Once Hange returns from the Capital, and Armin from his team’s research on the boat, they come together to learn the information Niccolo has revealed.

They learn the truth about why Reiner, Annie and Bertolt were sent to their Island. Marley is embroiled in a bitter World War, having used the Power of the Titans to expand their empire across continents for decades. In order to combat the awesome abilities of the six titan shifters Marley held, the still free nations had pushed their technological innovations to greater and greater heights. They have now created anti-titan weaponry so advanced that the Power of the Titans is slowly becoming obsolete. Marley doesn’t have the time or the technological capability to catch up, Niccolo tells them. Instead, to avoid defeat, they must steal the most powerful titan ability they know of: the Founding Titan.

They learn that to the rest of the world, their home is known as Paradis Island. They are located West of Marley, and are regarded as a pseudo prison island. Their race is indeed called the Subjects of Ymir, or Eldians, colloquially known as ‘devils’ for their ability to assume titan powers, which lends much needed credibility to his father’s journals. But for the first time, Niccolo helps them realise that the reality of the Eldians in Marley hasn’t improved since Grisha’s youth. Those left on the mainland are alienated by armbands, left to live in relative poverty, forcefully conscripted as soldiers and turned into titans, or trained to become ‘Warriors’.

After the failure of the Warrior’s mission, which saw them lose the Colossal and Female Titans, Marley decided to lick their wounds for over a year. But the pressure from the other foreign nations proved to be too great. They have once again decided to make a bid for the Founding Titan, with non-Eldian soldiers this time. Over the next several months, Marley will send forces on their strange metal boats to break through their Walls.

Only, they’re still under the assumption that they haven’t left the Walls. The team Niccolo was sent with was a preliminary scouting vessel, meant to return and update Marley on the situation. With them defeated, they have no idea that the Islanders have become so advanced at slaughtering titans that they’ve killed them all in under a year, much less built a Fort outside the Walls. It was this understanding, that they would not be able to succeed in this mission either, that left Niccolo so despondent he opted to just confess. (Niccolo begs for execution after confessing, but is instead put to work under a watchful guard in the barracks kitchens. He remarks sarcastically that it’s almost like being back at home).

It becomes clear then, their plan of action: they must prevent any soldier from returning to Marley after they’ve landed on the Island. No news can get back to the Marleyan military on their advancement, if they are to retain any tactical advantage in the conflict. This means of course, that in the coming battles, they must achieve complete victory.

Several months after the initial boat arrived, a second one appears on the far ocean. They repeat their earlier tactics, luring some of them out into the forest by the Fort and springing the trap. This force is much larger than the first, a proper army battalion. It does nothing to help Marley achieve a victory- it only makes the fighting more bloody. 

Eren is forced to make his first, real, conscious kill in the war. He’s not even in his titan form. They’re caught on the beach, where they're dismounting from their horses to make a move on the boat. A scout from the vessel, who must have made his way down from the boat, comes across them. The enemy soldier seizes Connie around the neck, knife rushing for his temple, and Eren’s combat training kicks in. It’s mere seconds before he’s finished disarming the soldier and twisting his neck. He stumbles away from the body after, heart pounding.

It doesn’t stop there. There are more soldiers on the boat than there had been on the first one, hiding below deck. They board it anyway, waging a brutal close quarters fight that leaves ten of their men dead and nearly everyone else injured. Eren gets a new bullet wound that doesn’t scar either. There are no surviving Marleyan soldiers this time around.

The next force to arrive proves the worst of all: a small armada of boats with several hundred soldiers. They have no choice but to drop the Colossal Titan down onto the boats from the cliff overlooking the beach. It’s an explosion the likes of which none of them expected. They’re informed the cloud of smoke produced was so large, it was visible from Wall Rose. They spend weeks combing through the sand for debris and scooping dead fish from the ocean. It’s agreed they won’t be attempting this particular manoeuvre again unless absolutely necessary.

They’re lucky that the boats they had managed to steal were carried off to a different stretch of beach to avoid detection from the incoming Marleyan fleet. With two boats captured, they are able to understand more about their mechanics. It’s believed they’re powered by hot steam, produced through boiling water heated by combustible rocks Niccolo informs them is called ‘coal’, which explains the ferocity of the earlier explosion. Apparently they’re a widely accessible resource on Marley. There was enough coal on the boats for a roundtrip back to the continent, and thus through Marley’s offensive efforts, the Islanders discover the wonders of the steam engine. 

But they haven’t figured out how to sail it. Niccolo is little help in this and in basically anything else past his confession. He keeps claiming he never learned the more complex processes of sailing or any useful war plans. They doubt he’s telling the truth, but even after stronger encouragement, he doesn’t budge. 

An effort is made when the next boat arrives to capture more soldiers. They scrap the forest plan altogether. Instead, Eren hides on the beach, lying in wait to transform and seize the vessel. As the boat reaches shore in the dark of night, Eren swims behind it and transforms. When he hefts it into the air, he hears the surprised shouts of the Marleyan soldiers. Knowing he has to move before they scramble a response, he carries it back to shore and drops it, forcing it aground before the cliff that overlooks the beach.

Hange has brought Niccolo along, partially as some twisted form of torture, and partially as a distraction. They stand on the edge of the cliff and wave down at the soldiers on the deck below.

“Hello, Marleyans! Welcome to Paradis Island. I’m Hange, and it’s an honour to welcome guests who’ve sailed here from so far across the sea,” Hange says. From where they’re hiding, Eren sees the others trade exasperated looks. “The trip must have left you exhausted. Could we interest you in some tea? We’re great hosts. Tell them, Niccolo.”

Hange shoves Niccolo into view of the incredulous Marleyan soldiers. From his vantage point, Eren can see Levi standing a little behind the duo, wielding a blade that digs into the flesh of Niccolo’s back. 

“Please, captain,” Niccolo yells, beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead. Eren has a bad feeling about this, and so must Levi because he presses down on the blade. “Forget about me! Gun these devils down while you still can-”

Hange smacks their hand over Niccolo’s mouth. Connie snorts from further down the beach, “Can’t say that guy isn’t gutsy.”

“He is, isn’t he?” agrees Sasha.

From up on the cliff, Hange laughs nervously, “Gosh, what are you saying?” 

Levi rolls his eyes, shoving the blade harder into Niccolo’s back. Eren wonders if Levi actually plans to stab him. “He’s saying he doesn’t want to be part of your shitty skit."

The Marleyan Captain yells at them from the deck of the vessel, brandishing a gun aimed at Hange’s head. “Know this, you wretched devils: Marley doesn’t negotiate with filthy demons like you. And we’re certainly not going to sit down and drink the piss you call tea!” 

“You sure about that?” Hange yells threateningly. “Maybe you should be more polite before you tick off the giant titan standing behind you.”

The soldiers turn then, and make eye contact with Eren. He’s a little caught off guard, he’d been a bit absorbed in Hange’s drama. He’s standing straight with his arms hanging loosely by his sides, splayed so the ocean water under his titan’s armpits can evaporate off too. He doesn’t think it’s a particularly intimidating pose, but it seems to freak the Marleyan soldiers out anyway. They stumble back, gasping at the sight of him. 

Seeing Eren’s titan so close seems to set the Captain off. He rushes to the front of the boat, raising his gun as he yells, “Marley will never submit to the power of the devils! This is all she has to say to you!”

Eren’s eyes widen as he realises the Captain means to shoot. Hange screams, then a loud bang rings through the night air. 

He blinks, realising he’d inadvertently closed his eyes. He forces them open, surprised but relieved when he notices Hange, Levi and Niccolo are all unharmed. The other Survey Corps members look on, incredulous. Hange uncurls from where they’d ducked to avoid the gunshot, blinking down in surprise at the dead body of the Marleyan Captain lying prone on the deck.

A Marleyan soldier stands over the body, arm raised and pistol still smoking. The other enemy soldiers seem to realise what’s happening, and they draw guns on the shooter. Only, some of the others turn to point guns at them. Eren is confused, to say the least. 

Some words are exchanged between them, and then the soldiers who must be loyal to the Captain slowly lower their weapons and raise their hands. The soldier who killed the Captain lifts their helmet off their head and opens their arms in a welcoming gesture. It’s a woman with close cropped blonde hair and eyes so dark they're almost black.

“Hange,” she calls up to them, mouth stretched in a grin. “I would love to accept your invitation. Let’s have some tea.”

After they seize all their weapons, the Survey Corps rounds up the Marleyan soldiers and drags them back to the Fort. The murderous soldier and her band of loyal followers disappear into the barracks with Hange and Levi. Eren and the others sit on a bench outside in the town centre, casting nervous eyes at the barracks door.

“That huge lady just shot her captain to death without batting an eye,” Eren remarks, shuddering. “What do you think they want?”

“Who knows?” sighs Connie. “Probably nothing good.”

“It doesn’t matter if they’re allies or enemies, we definitely can’t trust them,” Jean says, voice firm.

“It is a little weird that they were so quick to betray their comrades,” Mikasa agrees. Sasha slouches over the table with a yawn and Mikasa yanks her head up by her ponytail. “Don’t fall asleep, Sasha.”

Armin leans forward, heedless of the puddle of Sasha’s drool by his elbow. He’s thus far the only one excited about the fact that there are enemy soldiers wandering around within the Fort. “We have to trust that Hange and Levi will talk with them and figure it out amongst themselves. It’s unbelievably lucky that we’re able to obtain information from them.”

“Yeah,” agrees Eren, remembering how the last few boats ended up. Sometimes when he closes his eyes, he feels like he can still see the afterimage of the bright explosion. He worries absently at his shoulder, which tore and repaired itself over and over, under the weight of the boat. “For a second there, I was worried I wouldn’t be able to carry it back to shore.”

“At this point, I’m convinced your titan can do anything. It’s literally the coolest,” says Connie dreamily.

“Hey!” protests Armin.

“It only hurts you cause you know it’s true, bro.”

Armin and Connie continue their little back and forth, and Eren looks away. Jean and Mikasa are sharing a single cup of tea. Eren’s eye twitches in disgust and he forces himself to look away from that, too. It’s for that reason that he’s the first to notice Levi step out of the barracks. He beckons Eren down with his hand, and Eren shrugs helplessly at the confused looks from the others, before obediently treading into the barracks. 

The murderous woman and who must be her second-in-command, a dark-skinned man, are sitting across from Hange at a table. There’s something about the way the woman looks at him that makes Eren feel on edge. Levi kicks the chair next to Hange away from the table and pushes Eren down onto it. He doesn’t remove his hands from Eren’s shoulders, hovering over him. Eren has a moment to wonder stupidly if Marleyan people can hear heartbeats, and if they think he’s having a heart attack. Then he blinks away his own idiocy. 

“Eren, this is Yelena and Onyankopon,” says Hange, gesturing first at the woman then at the man. “They’re defectors from the Marleyan army. Yelena, Onyankopon, this is Eren Yeager. Why don’t you tell him what you told us?”

“With pleasure,” obliges Yelena, smiling widely at him. Eren leans back into Levi’s hands despite himself. “As your Commander said, my name is Yelena. I’m part of a group of Anti-Marleyan volunteers. We wish to prevent Marley from succeeding in their quest to steal the Founding Titan.”

“Why?” asks Eren suspiciously.

Onyankopon answers him this time. “We’re not actually Marleyan. Marley has been expanding their empire for decades, conquering foreign land that doesn’t belong to them and forcefully conscripting its peoples into their army. We have no loyalty to Marley. We just didn’t have the chance to do anything about it until the war.”

“There’s a war? So the information from Niccolo was right, then?” Eren asks, looking to Hange.

“Yes, for the most part. Despite Marley’s long conquest, war has only broken out recently. After Reiner and the others returned defeated from their mission, the rest of the world realised that the titans were not unbeatable. Instead of attacking Marley separately, they agreed to wage war on Marley together,” Hange explains, smiling slightly. “So you could say we inspired them.”

Yelena and Onyankopon laugh politely. Eren looks up at Levi for help, feeling a little like he’s ended up in an alternate universe. Levi makes a face back at him in silent solidarity. Eren turns back to the others, “So you came here to help us?”

“We think we can help each other. We’ll share our information and weaponry with you, teach you how to sail steam powered ships and build cars. How to make your military stronger,” Onyankopon says. “You should know by now that Marley will not stop sending forces to retrieve the Founding Titan for some time yet.”

“I don’t get it. How did so many of you manage to sneak onto the exact same boat? You must have had someone pulling strings for you.” Eren frowns, thinking of Eren Kruger.

Levi’s fingers dig into his shoulders. “That’s part of why we called you in here, Eren.”

“You’re right, of course. We did have someone leading us.” Yelena smiles. “In exchange for what we can offer you, he asks for some things, too.”

“He?”

“Zeke Yeager.”

What.

Eren makes to stand, but Levi’s hands force him down. Eren realises now why Levi was gripping his shoulders. It wasn’t for comfort, it was to keep him down. Eren shrugs them off forcefully. “No,” he snaps, turning angry eyes at his captain. “How can you even entertain this?”

“If you’d sit down and listen, brat, maybe you’d find out.” Levi glares, hands coming down on Eren’s shoulders again. Eren struggles to shrug them off again and Levi digs his fingers in, snapping, “Eren. Enough.”

Eren stills, slightly out of breath from the struggle. He’s glaring across at Yelena. She’s got the weirdest look on her face. Like Eren is some long awaited promise. It makes his hackles raise. “What does he want?” Eren demands of her.

“He wants the liberation of all the Eldian people.” It sounds like trite bullshit to Eren, and Yelena must realise because she changes tactics. “Please consider it, Eren. Zeke is offering you everything your people need to bridge the gap between your military might and ours. He is risking his life to help us. In exchange, he wants only two things: firstly, to be welcomed into the home of his people. Here, on Paradis Island,” Yelena says. Eren snorts disdainfully. 

“He’s already been here. Don’t think he enjoyed it much, he kept destroying the scenery,” he bites out. Levi huffs an exasperated laugh above him.

Yelena ignores his bluster. “And,” she says, “He wants to meet his brother.”

Eren stills. Levi’s hands soften, where they grip his shoulders. Eren stares at Yelena. She has no idea the weight of what she’s said, does she? Or maybe she does, and she’s using it to her advantage. Zeke is part of the category of Eren’s mind that he’s divorced from himself. The Attack Titan, eating his father, Zeke, it’s all part of the nasty otherness that Eren wants no part of.

“He’s not my brother,” Eren says in a soft, choked voice.

Yelena raises an eyebrow. “You won’t meet with him?”

“He didn’t say that! He’s just having some internal conflict about the whole family thing, their family history is pretty complex, you know? Haha,” Hange cuts in, laughing nervously. “Eren will meet with him, won’t you, Eren?”

Eren turns to stare at Hange next to him. They meet him head on, eyes wide and serious. Eren recognises their expression. It’s the same fatal conviction that precedes every ugly experiment they conduct, every suicidal order they’re forced to give. This is not a choice for Eren, no matter how they spin it.

But, Eren thinks, it can’t be easy for them either.  Zeke killed all of their friends. Eren still has most of his, all the members of Squad Levi back then who evaded the Beast Titan’s offensive. But Hange, Levi? They lost everyone. They lost Erwin. Mikasa and Eren had demanded they give Erwin up, let him die broken and bruised after he was crushed by Zeke’s onslaught of thrown rocks, just to save their friend. Perhaps this is Eren’s penance then. Perhaps this is penance for all of them.

“Yes,” Eren says, through near unmoving lips. “I’ll meet with him.”

“Excellent!” Hange claps their hands. “However, until that meeting, we must ask that you keep your distance from Eren. Any attempt to seek his company alone will make us most unhappy. We need to keep our bargaining chips close to our chest, you see.” They smile.

Eren snorts, eyeing Yelena distrustfully. “Fine by me.”

The Marleyan woman hesitates, and Onyankopon turns to look at her questioningly. Eventually she acquiesces with a nod.

Levi releases his shoulders. “You can go.”

Eren doesn’t look back at them when he exits the barracks.

Chapter Text

Despite the verbal promise given to Yelena and her Anti-Marleyan defectors, Hange doesn’t actually have the authority to forge alliances for the whole island. Instead, the Survey Corps are forced to head back into the interior to plead their case.

So here they are again, in a courtroom in Trost, seated before Premier Zackly and the Queen. Yelena and the others are being temporarily detained in the dungeons below, which Hange had apologised profusely for. Eren really doesn’t think they’re that bad, he’s stayed there himself a couple times. They’re certainly more than he feels Yelena and her Zeke-worshipers deserve, in any case.

Up on the raised dais, Premier Zackly slams the gavel onto the rostrum. “This council has been called into session to discuss the possibility of an alliance with a foreign faction known as the ‘Anti-Marleyan Volunteer Unit’. Today, and in the Queen’s presence, I would like to assess our situation and decide a course of action. Scout Commander Hange Zoe, you may speak.”

Hange stands, bowing politely. “Thank you, Premier Zackly. As you are all no doubt aware, over the last few months, we have been engaged in a series of skirmishes with a hostile force sent across the ocean. One of these vessels surrendered to us and asked to form an alliance. They identified themselves as a group of military defectors led by the Beast Titan, Zeke Yeager. His demands are as follows: sometime in the next few years, he wishes to visit Paradis Island. And in regard to his younger brother, who is endowed with the Power of the Founding Titan… He is to meet with Eren Yeager.”

Eren feels eyes flicker his way. He fights to keep his expression neutral. Hange waits for the attention of the courtroom to refocus on them before they continue; “In return, he promises to introduce new technologies and weapons, to act as an intermediary between us and foreign nations, and to support us in our fight against Marley by providing information and war plans. He claims his primary goal is to assist the Eldian people in this time of danger-”

“This is outrageous!” bursts a Military Police officer. “We cannot go along with this nonsense. This is the Beast Titan you’re talking about here! He turned the people of Ragako village into titans.” Eren sees Connie flinch from the corner of his eye. He curls his fists into his hands. Everything about this seems so wrong. The MP officer continues, “He assaulted the Walls! We’re talking about the man that led the attack that almost slaughtered every last member of the Survey Corps.”

“His audacity is incredible,” agrees Premier Zackly. “Marley’s goal has always been to take back the Founding Titan. Since they failed to do it by force, perhaps they are trying to talk their way in.”

Pyxis shakes his head. “The enemy must have realised that we would assume this. Let’s hear what Commander Hange has to say.”

Hange nods in thanks. “There’s more. According to Zeke, there’s a secret plan that could solve the problems of the Eldian people in one swift stroke. To put this plan into effect, two things are needed: the Founding Titan, and a titan with royal blood.” Eren’s eyes widen. They can’t possibly be talking about- “This is of course, the ability to unlock the full power of the Founding Titan.”

“By its 'full powers’, do you mean the ability to control the Colossal Titans within the Walls?” asks Historia.

“Yes, Your Highness,” says Hange.

“Provided it is successful…” Historia begins, waving her hand in the air. “What happens?”

“An event referred to in Grisha Yeager’s journals as ‘the rumbling’. The Earth would flatten beneath the stomping feet of a thousand Colossal Titans. It was Karl Fritz’s original threat to the rest of the world, inaccessible to us because of the limitations of the First King’s Vow. Zeke believes that since the Founding Titan now resides in a person without royal blood, should he, a titan with royal blood, come into contact with Eren, they will be able to surpass this limitation.”

There’s silence in the courtroom for a second as everyone digests this. Eren struggles to wrap his head around the immensity of this plan. Someone asks, “Would we be able to escape the fate of the rest of the world?”

“Presumably, Eren and Zeke would have full control over the Wall Titans.”

“So we are to leave our fate half in the hands of a madman. You’re willing to trust these people?” demands Nile Dok, leader of the MPs.

“That’s right!” Another man agrees. “Forget about this ‘rumbling’ for now- who knows what will happen if we even allow these enemy soldiers to stay on the island.”

“We should hang them all!” Another man chimes in.

“No, we can’t do that either,” says Hange, shaking their head. “We have reason to believe Marley will send stronger forces. To protect ourselves, we need help from these Anti-Marleyan Volunteers. They have a technology known as ‘radio communication’. It is crucial that we obtain it.”

“Our experiments with radio development are insufficient?” asks Historia.

“We are in our technological infancy,” despairs Hange. “They are leagues and bounds ahead of us. They informed us that Marley has even begun the development of airborne weapons.”

“Airborne?” Pyxis gapes. “Aerial warfare?”

Hange nods, grim faced. “Yes. Flying ships capable of carrying bombs, titans, or enemy soldiers. Marley has thus far not sent any because they believe pure titans still roam outside our Walls and they fear for a place to land. We cannot reasonably believe they will remain under that delusion forever.”

Historia staples her fingers before her face. “So it is unavoidable, then. We must reach an alliance with this faction, whether we trust them or not.”

“And what of this rumbling? Once he has it, what’s stopping Zeke Yeager from using this power to destroy us?” asks Nile.

“We must put our trust in Eren and the Survey Corps, as we have done all this while,” says Historia. Protests begin to emerge from the assembled officials and Historia raises her hand to silence them. “This is a future concern. They cannot expect to assist us in emerging on the global stage as they actively destroy it. We have no reason to suspect that we will need to confront this for years yet. Let us take their gifts and once we are in a better position, we may re-evaluate the terms of our alliance.”

Levi smirks from beside Hange, shooting Historia an impressed look. Someone clears their throat, asking: “Majesty, do you mean to suggest that we should enter this alliance with the intention to betray it?”

Historia blinks once, face neutral. “I said no such thing. Assuming we can control the ‘rumbling’, it will solve all our problems for centuries to come. The very idea that we could is a powerful deterrent to other hostile nations. That being said,” sighs Historia, “we spoke of trust in this meeting. I find I do not trust this faction any more than they could possibly trust us. I suspect we are both entering this alliance with plans of our own.”

“You cannot betray those who intend to betray you,” Pyxis remarks wryly.

“Exactly. However, this is only my suggestion on the matter. I leave the final decision up to a consensus,” Historia says, spreading her arms obligingly.

Premier Zackly allows the gathered crowd several silent moments of contemplation. Then he bangs the gavel three times and speaks: “All those who oppose enacting Her Majesty’s suggestions, please raise your hand.”

No one moves.

Premier Zackly nods like he expected this and slams the gavel down once. “Then we are in agreement. In the Queen’s name, let it be done.”

They set to planning. Yelena and the other deserters are escorted to more hospitable quarters, and Hange doesn’t waste time in prying them for information. They’re much more cooperative than Niccolo and soon whole squads are being pulled in to record what they’re saying.

It's incredible. They’ve learnt so much in recent years and yet there’s so much that they’re just discovering. Yelena verifies their ideas on how the coal for steam engines is sourced, how the boat is built. With the ships they’ve captured from the enemy, it isn’t too much of a stretch to imagine they could one day begin constructing boats of their own.

A week after the Marleyan deserters arrive, Hange summons them into a meeting with Onyankopon. They gather around a table in HQ, where Onyankopon has spread a blueprint for some kind of building. Eren hovers behind Mikasa, not wanting to block anyone else’s view of the table.

“Glad you all could join us.” Onyankopon smiles warmly. “I called you all here today to discuss the first set of developmental projects the Island should undertake. We’ll start by making the thing this island needs the most - a port.”

Connie frowns thoughtfully at the drawn-out planks on the blueprint. “Ah, a port... Is it some sort of playground? Kids will love that.”

“It’s not for kids, idiot. It’s obviously connected to the ocean. Maybe some kind of sauna? Does it have mixed baths?” Jean blinks innocently. Eren sees Mikasa’s cheeks flush faintly pink and fakes gags. She jabs her elbow into his side.

“It’s not a sauna, you stupid perv.” Sasha rolls her eyes. “Personally, I heard you say pork. Sounds tasty.”

“It’s not something you eat.” Onyankopon pauses, blinking a little. He looks slightly overwhelmed. “It’s umm… how does one explain…”

“Oh, I get it!” Hange says, clapping their hands together. They point at some figures on the paper. “It’s a place for ships to dock right?”

Onyankopon looks relieved. “Yes, exactly, Hange. It’s a space for them to safely lower anchor, just inside the shore. You already have the large wall and jetties which Marley constructed” -he indicates a section of rectangles on the blueprint- “the rest is supplemental, meant to build upon the initial structure. We have a lighthouse planned, a shipyard, an outpost for soldiers-”

“But where will the kids play?” Connie looks vaguely disappointed.

Beside him, Jean nods in sombre agreement. “Baths are important, too.”

Hange ignores their musings, asking, “So that means we could use the captured ships to trade with people across the sea!”

“Yes.” Onyankopon nods. “It’s essentially a doorway to the rest of the world. Once we finish teaching you about the ships, we’ll go over potential trade partners we think might be open to negotiating with you.”

“Amazing.” Hange looks at Onyankopon with stars in their eyes.

Onyankopon smiles back indulgently. Eren huffs an amused breath as he watches. The man is the first person Eren’s seen in a while to not cringe away from Hange’s more exuberant side.

The rest of the meeting gets consumed with logistics on the port’s construction. Onyankopon estimates that it will take around six months to complete, and so it’s agreed that construction should begin as soon as possible. Eren is content to not voice his opinion, though privately he believes the construction will be over much sooner. He has a better idea of their construction abilities than anyone else here, and he knows Onyankopon is underestimating them. He still feels cautious over their newfound allies, so he doesn’t correct the other man’s assumptions. But Eren bets the port will be done in half that time.

Then they get caught up discussing trade, and what they’ll even trade. Onyankopon mentions that countries often trade excess goods, but the island has been struggling with resources for so long that the idea of anything being in excess seems ridiculous. Eren remembers a time, barely seven years ago, when he lived day-to-day on a piece of bread smaller than the size of his palm.

Things feel like they’re changing far too quickly.

As the days pass, their learnings become more novel, and their plans become more complex. Their dependency on Yelena and the others is apparent. They take up all their time, bombarding them with questions and picking over all of their belongings. The ice slowly thaws between them and though Eren would not call them friends, they are definitely allies.

He finds himself more reserved than some of the others, though. He can’t shake the image of Yelena shooting the Marleyan captain from his mind. A point blank shot from the back, where’s the honour in that? And there are the odd looks she keeps shooting at him, like she’s waiting for him to say or do something. Like she expected him to be different, and hasn’t yet given up hope. It’s unnerving.

Eren isn’t the only one on edge. Levi has been more irritable lately. Though he’s quiet most of the time, when he does speak he’s snider and more contumacious than usual. Eren suspects that it’s likely because of the unfamiliar presence in their HQ, but maybe he’s just projecting. Sasha has been making inappropriate jokes about sticks and asses that Eren will not echo out of respect for his poor, beleaguered Captain.

One day, after the Special Operations Squad leaves a particularly stilted meeting with Yelena, Levi lets them off duty. “We’re done for the day.”

Connie blinks, stumped. “It’s like… two in the afternoon.”

“That a problem? Go get drunk, get shot, whatever it is that brats your age do,” Levi says absentmindedly. It’s clear his mind is somewhere else.

“Getting shot was a normal part of your adolescence, sir?” Eren asks dryly.

Levi turns to him, eyes suddenly focused and narrowed. He smacks Eren up the back of his head. “Yes, actually. That’s how I know exactly which spots hurt. Keep being a smartass and I’ll teach you myself.”

Eren raises his hands in surrender. Levi waves them off, still scowling as he disappears somewhere into HQ behind them. They stand there for a while, staring at the door he disappeared into.

“What do we do now?” Eren feels lost.

Sasha rolls her eyes. “I’m gonna go check on the horses. Connie, you can come but Eren, you can’t.”

“Why not?” He pouts. He’s well over six feet tall, it must look ridiculous.

“The last time you tried to help, a horse kicked you so hard you fractured a rib.” Sasha’s face is unimpressed. “And before you start with that ‘It healed!’ bullshit, I’m sure there’s something more enjoyable you can do with your time.”

“I guess…” Eren isn’t very convinced there is. He scuffs his shoe on the dirt. He really doesn’t want to be alone with Creepy Gazer Yelena prowling the halls, but the last time he got injured helping Sasha, she talked his ear off. Kicking humans must agitate horses. “You guys go ahead, then.”

Sasha reaches up onto her tiptoes to pinch his cheek. “Do something fun, okay? Bye, Eren!”

Connie tries to echo her motion but Eren glares fiercely, snapping his teeth at Connie’s outstretched hand. He baulks and takes off after Sasha to the stables.

Eren’s about to head for the armoury to sharpen his titan’s swords or something equally as boring and pathetic and lonely when he hears Armin’s voice. “Eren!”

He turns to find Armin, Mikasa, and Floch strolling down the hallway towards him. Now he doesn’t have to hang out alone! “You guys!”

“We’re heading to the shooting range. The weapons development team made some changes to the sniper rifles after talking to Onyankopon,” Mikasa says. “Wanna come test it out?”

“Sure. Levi let us off for the day.” Eren smiles, happy with his luck.

“Lucky you,” Floch remarks sarcastically under his breath. Eren doesn’t take it personally. Floch never really recovered from the Shiganshina mission. They start to head towards the shooting range on the other side of the sprawling HQ compound. It’ll be a bit of a walk, agonising in the waning midday sun, but they’ve walked worse treks.

“He let you off?” Armin asks, eyebrows raised in surprise. “That’s unlike him.”

Mikasa shuffles on her feet uncomfortably, like she knows something. Eren remembers that Levi and Mikasa used to write each other letters, and as far as he knows, they never stopped. “I think it’s the Anti-Marleyan Volunteer Unit. Levi was probably trying to avoid them.”

“Did they say something to him?”

“No…” she sighs, “I think it’s more the fact that Zeke is leading them. He must be going out of his mind, with so many of them around HQ.”

Ah. Eren thinks. So that’s it.

Levi had seemed fine with the alliance, back in that room with Hange and Yelena, when they’d first listed Zeke’s demands to him. But it’s not too much of a stretch to see how it might have been a front. Levi has made his hatred for Zeke abundantly clear. Eren remembers that it had not just been Erwin and the other scouts in Shiganshina that Zeke had killed, but Mike, Nanaba, and all those who had defended the abandoned castle in Wall Rose. Eren remembers what he had realised in that same meeting: it can’t be easy, having to play nice with the man who killed all your closest friends.

He can’t blame Levi for letting them off early, then, after the meeting they had this afternoon. Yelena speaks of Zeke with a certain reverence, an almost worshipful devotion. It’s tough to stomach on a good day.

As if reading his mind, Floch says; “I hate that woman.”

“Who? Yelena?”

“Yeah,” he spits, “I hate her and her people and her stupid fucking pretences. She doesn’t like us. She can’t be here to help us, no way. There’s something else she wants, and we’re all idiots for trusting her.”

“Be that as it may,” Armin sounds tired, as though this is a topic they’ve gone over hundreds of times already, “We need their information. You’ve been to the meetings with the rest of our squad, Floch, you know the things they’re teaching us would take us decades to learn on our own.”

He shakes his head in disgust. “It’s like we can never be rid of them. First, they come to kill us, now they come to help us, and all the while we have to see their smug little faces and know that they have no idea what we’ve been through. They should just leave us alone. ”

Eren watches him, his face twisted into a caricature of rage, and wonders why he can’t relate more. Armin says, “You’re getting them confused, Floch. Marley took away their homes in the war, too. Onyankopon and the others are victims, just like us-”

“Yeah, and before that? Their people were perfectly content to leave us island devils alone here to rot with the titans. They never cared about us, not until it was convenient for them. They’re not one of us. They’re just as much the enemy as Marley.”

There’s a silence as everyone processes his words. Something about the scene is oddly familiar to him; there’s a youthful aggression to Floch’s words, a binary view of the world. People were either like them or against them. With a start, Eren realises Floch reminds him a little of himself, of how he used to speak of the titans. They were the absolute enemy, completely other and evil. Something standing in the way of freedom.

But Floch isn’t talking about titans. He’s talking about people, and something uncomfortable stirs in Eren’s gut as he hears Floch’s vitriol.

Yes, the other people of the world knowingly left them on this island, let Marley send wave upon wave of titan prisoners at them for centuries, Floch’s right about that. But Eren wonders if Floch’s asking himself why they let it happen. According to Grisha’s journals, the First King of the Walls had fled here in remorse, because his people had been guilty of genocide.

Eren remembers a younger version of himself, convinced that fighting with raised fists was the only way forward. But what has aggression bought them, truly? They built the Walls and Reiner broke them down. In retribution, the Survey Corps had captured Annie. Then the Warriors killed two hundred of their men in Shiganshina. Then Armin had eaten Bertolt. Now they fight on the beaches. When will it end?

Violence breeds violence. Eren has learnt enough to realise that, now. If everyone thought the way Floch did, would they ever see peace in their lifetime?

So, Eren asks him; “If we killed everyone across the ocean, would we be free then?”

Everyone turns to stare at him. He keeps his face as relaxed and non-judgemental as possible, locking eyes with Floch alone. The other man’s expression looks agonised, and there’s something of a hopelessness in it that Eren can empathise with.

Floch doesn’t respond to him, and truthfully, Eren doesn’t know what else to say to make it better, either.

By the time they leave the shooting range, it’s late. They had all been too distracted by the weighty contents of their talk to do more than shoot their rifles in abject silence, unaware of the passing of time. Before they knew it, the sun had started to set. Jean had come looking for Mikasa, and graciously brought dinner for all of them. They eat together in the field now, and Eren watches those two in the dim lighting.

They’re sweet, and their care for each other is obvious. It’s there in the way Jean wraps his coat around Mikasa as night falls around them in earnest, in the way she scoops all the potatoes out of his bowl of stew to switch with her carrots. He wouldn’t have expected it from Jean, not with how unsubtle his burgeoning affection had been. But in reciprocity, all that conspicuous stumbling has grown into a gentle love so tender, it feels almost too sacred to make fun of. Even if Eren very, very desperately wants to make some joke about giving his blessing.

He holds his tongue (see, he’s growing), and he, Armin and Floch bid them farewell quickly, so they can have some time alone. The other two volunteer to bring their used cutlery to the kitchens, something about hoping to catch Hange-san on the way. Eren nods, raising his hand in a lazy wave goodbye.

He takes the long walk back to his dormitory rooms, past the stables and behind the base’s tavern. He contemplates joining the ruckus inside for a minute, the bartender always has a bit of a soft spot for him, but he decides not to in the end. A part of him is always scared he’ll run into another Kyle.

Maybe it’s because he’s thinking about so many things at once -the rumbling, Mikasa and Jean, and now that he’s passed the bar, he’s thinking about Kyle, too- all these compounded thoughts, they lead his feet away from the path back to the dorms and he only realises he’s in a fairly secluded, questionable alleyway, when he hears it.

At first he thinks it might be a fight, with all the grunting. So he peers around a half wall that obstructs his vision, because the titans might have been his greatest enemy, but bullies were his first foes, and he’s always fancied himself a bit of a saviour. A sliver of moonlight falls onto the pair, two men pressed against a wall and - oh. Oh.  That is definitely not a fight. Nope. Eren should go, that looks like-

That looks like Captain Levi.

He blinks, doubting himself for a second, but no, that is most definitely his commanding officer, hands fisted in the coat of an unfamiliar Survey Corps soldier as they stumble towards a door. Even from this distance, Eren can tell the kisses are enthusiastic, to say the least.

Eren is not proud of this. And he will take this to his dying grave, but truthfully his first thought is; Levi looks like a good kisser.

The thought, the sight and the sounds (still ongoing, so at least they don’t seem to notice him), snap Eren out of his stupor. He thanks the months of martial arts training he’s had to undergo recently, because they’ve taught him to be light on his feet. He scrambles out of the alleyway without making a sound and is in his dorm room in minutes.

Physically, at least. Mentally, he’s… well.

At least Levi isn’t straight?

No, but really, Eren doesn’t know how to deal with the information, so he just opts not to. It’s pretty difficult to avoid your commanding officer, but harder things have been achieved for far inferior causes.

He begs off cleaning duty when he can, latches onto the others so he’s rarely alone, and walks out of empty rooms when Levi walks into them. He can tell that the captain knows something is amiss by his narrowed eyes, but Levi hasn’t confronted him yet. Eren counts his blessings.

He finds himself wondering though, if perhaps Levi has noticed more than he lets on for a while now. Eren has never been shy about his feelings, has never been good at hiding it, so he wouldn’t be altogether surprised if Levi suspected something. With that thought, comes the unsurprising ache of jealousy. Eren has always been covetous, and competitive. Now that he knows Levi swings his way, the reality that Eren wants doesn’t seem so far out of place. But Levi didn’t approach him. He approached some average, forgettable soldier. If Levi suspects Eren is interested, does he just not see him as an option?

He supposes it doesn’t matter. The captain has never said anything, and truthfully Eren has a penchant for futile conquests. He’s content to bask in one-sided devotion for the foreseeable future. He stands by his earlier conviction (god, a whole year ago now) that Levi is inarguably out of his league.

Still, he’d like to retreat and lick his wounds.

Luckily, they’ve been assigned to assist in the construction of the port, and Eren happily throws himself into the task. In titan form, he mixes cement and shovels away sand, and in person, he learns how ships communicate via radio. It’s all fascinating of course, and it has the added bonus of Levi giving them a wide berth. Though he seems much more calm after the Night of Eren’s Accidental Voyeurism, Eren can tell he still bristles if he spends too long in the Volunteers’ company.

Still, since this is their assignment, Levi can’t avoid them forever. Nor can Eren avoid him forever.

A couple months into the construction, the Marleyans teach them how to build lighter vessels to fish in the deep ocean. They bring the catch back to Niccolo in the Fort’s kitchens, and he begrudgingly cooks it up. It’s a collection of things Eren’s never seen before. Almost insect-like sea creatures with too many limbs. It’s sort of frightening, but they all line up to try it, anyway.

“Is this edible?” Jean mutters dubiously. He pokes at one of the offending creatures in mounting suspicion.

“Good question,” says Connie, equally as hesitant. “You try it first. If you die, at least we’ll know the answer.” Jean shoves him.

Comparatively fearless in the face of food, Sasha asks, “What is this called?”

“You’ve never had seafood before?” Yelena asks. Eren starts at the sound of her voice. He hadn’t realised she was so close to them. “What a good chance to try it! Niccolo is a master of Marleyan cooking.” She’s speaking to Sasha, but she meets Eren’s gaze and offers him a smile that’s a little too wide. He bristles a little, discomfited.

From behind Yelena, hovering over a large pot, Niccolo mutters under his breath like a beleaguered servant. “You devil spawn are free to not eat it, in fact please don’t. Or eat it and choke on it and die-” He turns to look at them and stops short.

It’s not hard to guess what has him shocked. Sasha has grabbed one of the ‘lobsters’ in her hand and bitten into the exposed flesh with her teeth. It rouses protestations from Connie and Jean immediately, but she ignores them to turn teary (why is she teary, honestly) eyes on Niccolo. “Mister Niccolo,” she hiccups. “You’re a genius.”

Eren cringes, ready for Niccolo’s insults and prejudice, but they don’t come. He gapes at Sasha with red cheeks and then slowly, slowly plates up some more servings and brings it over to the table. “There’s-there’s still some more, you don’t need to rush,” he stutters weakly.

“I’ve never had something like this before,” Sasha says, eyes glistening. “You’re amazing, Mister Niccolo, amazing.”

Niccolo’s cheeks turn a deeper shade of red. Eren raises an amused brow. Who’d have thought.

He grabs a plate for himself, successfully avoids making any small talk with Yelena, and sits beside Armin and Mikasa. They’re across from Onyankopon, who appears to be teaching them how to crack open ‘crab’ shells. Mikasa’s eyes are fixed on where Onyankopon’s fingers rest against the bright red shell. She asks, in a characteristically blunt fashion, “Say, Onyankopon. I’ve never met anyone who looks like you. Why is your skin so dark?”

Eren’s surprised. Onyankopon looks different, sure, but it’s never been something Eren’s spent much time wondering about. Mikasa looks a little different too, so he’d figured it’d be something like that.

He eyes her impassive face. Actually, now that Eren thinks about it, maybe that’s why she’s asking.

Onyankopon’s eyes meet hers. He smiles, unoffended, and rests his elbows on the table like he’s about to tell a story. “Our creator had a thought: ‘Wouldn’t it be interesting if there were more kinds of people in the world?’ So it was said, so it would be. There became people like me and people like you, Mikasa. Even people like the Subjects of Ymir; who can turn into titans.” He grins at them, and unlike Yelena’s, his smile seems friendly and genuine. “All of us exist because someone meant for us to exist.”

Armin looks transfixed. “But who made us?”

“The one who gave power to Ymir, the founder. One might call them a god or deity.” He shrugs dismissively. Then he catches sight of the look on Armin’s face and must worry that he’s taking his words as fact, because he adds a clarification. “At least that’s what some people think. You have religion in the Walls too, right?”

Armin, Eren and Mikasa exchange glances. Then Armin shrugs. “I guess? If you count the Church of the Walls?”

“But that was less about god and more about… the Walls,” contests Eren.

“There was also Uri Reiss’s cult?” muses Mikasa. “But I don’t know if that counts.”

“I don’t think so. Wasn’t that basically mind-control?” Armin turns back to Onyankopon, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “In hindsight, a lot of our beliefs were foolish.”

Onyankopon smiles. “If they gave you hope and purpose, I don’t know that I would call them foolish. Regardless, now that you have access to the rest of the world, there’s a whole new era of culture ahead of you. Perhaps you will even find solace in the belief I mentioned earlier, that we were all created by one god.” He shrugs. “We’re all free to think as we like, no?”

Truthfully, religion doesn’t appeal much to Eren. He thinks if a creator did make the world, they surely did not mean to make this one.

But still, Eren tilts his head, intrigued by Onyankopon’s idea. Their view of the world has been so limited, and not just in the physical sense. They’re a race of people whose very memories have been altered- free thought is something that was stolen from them long ago. But now he considers the broadening of their horizons: he didn’t even know people could look like Onyankopon, a year ago. But now as he stares at the other man, he finds that he likes the differences between them. How wonderful it is, that people can vary so much. How incredible, that the world is so vast.

Eren wonders if, perhaps in the intersection of all these ideas, there is space for people like Floch to find forgiveness. If there is some pathway for Levi, and Eren himself, to reconcile their anger with their allies. If there is a way towards the future for them to discover that doesn’t involve loss.

Eren doesn’t know if he believes in god, but he believes that Ymir existed. That she must have gotten her powers from someone, or something. He remembers the differing accounts in his father’s journals, some people believed she’d gotten her powers from an angel, some from a devil.

Even if they had come from hell, her powers are Eren’s now. And he doesn’t plan on ever altering memories or thoughts, even if he could. He thinks of the way Niccolo had blushed, looking at Sasha. Perhaps they all have a choice now, to do as Onyankopon says. To be free to think as they like.

They get more stories out of Onyankopon as they feast, until eventually Eren volunteers to clear their plates. When he returns, he finds Levi has taken his place at the table. There’s a seat to his right, where Eren could sit, but he doesn’t. He joins Connie, Jean and Sasha instead. He spends the rest of the night there, listening absentmindedly to their conversation. And if he sneaks a couple glances back at where Levi is, well. No one notices.

Eren had been right about the timeframe- they construct the port in just over three months. Not too long after their feast, Yelena approaches Hange to announce that their allies will be venturing off to start bartering for more allies. He’s not so secretly thrilled to have Yelena gone, but he thinks he would miss the company of Onyankopon’s stories.

With the port almost complete, there’s little need for them to hang around the ocean. They’re being deployed back to the capital.

As he brings his things to the port’s stable, Eren’s a little melancholy. It’s been almost a dream to spend his days working in plain view of the ocean. He’ll miss the simple joy of staying in one place, and the easy familiarity of the Fort.

Connie and Sasha have already saddled their horses and are lounging on the sand next to the port’s pier. He waves a hello at them as he goes to pack his satchel onto his horse. “Where’s Captain Levi?” Eren asks.

Sasha favours him with a raised eyebrow. It’s plain in her expression that she’s surprised he’s asking. He wouldn’t put it past her to have noticed that he’s been avoiding the captain, but she doesn’t tease him for it. “Wandered that way a while ago.” She points at the cliffs. “We’ll head out once he gets back.”

Eren nods and turns to survey their surroundings. The various squads are all assembled, doing last minute preparations. Eren waves at Armin when he meets his eye from several feet away. He checks over his horse, which takes longer than it should, because the damn thing still hates him. As Eren tries to tie on his bag, the mare keeps shuffling away.

“Little Shit,” he says sternly, irritated. It isn’t an insult, that’s just what he’s named his horse. “You need to quit it. The longer you kick up a fuss, the longer we both have to be subjected to each other’s presence.”

Remarkably, Little Shit stills. Eren is amazed, believing for one second that he’s finally been able to get through to this damn animal. Then from behind him, an arm reaches out to pet the frozen animal. Hange-san is smiling at the awful, stupid, creature as it blinks back at them. Ah, Eren realises, it didn’t understand me. It just recognised a greater predator.

Taking advantage of his horse’s fear, Eren quickly ties his bag onto the strap. He’s just finished when Hange throws an arm around his shoulders, but their grip is far too tight, squeezing Eren’s torso. Much like his horse had, Eren freezes. Hange says, “So… Eren. I heard you’ve been having bowel problems. Let’s get into the specifics: is it diarrhoea or constipation?”

Eren blinks, bewildered. “What?”

“Levi’s been writing on his reports that you’re frequently absent from training because you’ve been having stomach issues,” Hange explains. Eren fights hard to keep his expression impassive. He hadn’t realised that Levi might have had to explain away Eren’s attempts at avoiding him. His heart warms a little at the idea that his captain has been covering for him, despite the admittedly terrible excuse Levi had come up with. “I didn’t realise titan shifters could have bowel problems, given your advanced healing abilities.” Hange leans forward suddenly, and Eren jerks back to avoid being stabbed in the eye with their nose. “Say, Eren… you wouldn’t mind if I took a look, would you?”

From beside him, Little Shit rears back in fear. In a similar state, Eren gulps. He knows Hange and their experiments well enough by now to know that ‘taking a look’ would likely involve scalpels, a medical bed and absolutely zero sedatives. He realises abruptly that Levi was decidedly not covering for him, and that this was definitely his idea of a punishment. He sweats.

Hange blinks, once. “Unless, of course, you’re suddenly feeling better and can continue your regular duties?”

“Ye-yes. I’m feeling much better!”

“Good, good. Say Eren, have you seen Levi? We’re supposed to leave soon.”

Eren jabs a nervous thumb over his shoulder at the cliffs. “Sasha said she saw him head that way a while ago.”

“Well, go call him then,” Hange says, making a shoo-ing motion with their hands.

Eren grimaces. If he goes to call Levi, he’ll be alone with him for the first time in weeks. He’s long gotten past the initial awkwardness of his discovery, but now he feels a different kind of awkward because he’s been avoiding Levi for so long. He tries to catch Sasha and Connie’s eyes to get them to go instead, but they’re lying flat on their backs in the sand, pointing at clouds. The absolute imbeciles.

“Unless of course, you’re still not feeling well?” Hange asks hopefully, suddenly a little too close to his ear. He flinches away in fear. There’s nothing for it. Between experiments and confronting Levi, Eren chooses the evil with the better view. He doesn’t answer, just turns to start running towards the cliffs.

“Okay,” Hange calls out disappointedly from behind him. “Let me know, though!”

He leaves behind the clamour of the tents and horses by the pier and heads up the cliff. It’s a short walk. He can see Levi’s outline from this distance, and his heart starts to race for a different reason. There’s nothing to be awkward about, he tells himself firmly, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. He stops a couple feet away from the other man, close enough to see his profile. The sun leaves golden touches on his hair and it freezes Eren’s breath in his lungs.

He clears his throat. “Sir? Hange-san sent me to get you. We’re leaving soon.” Levi hums, eyes still fixed on the horizon. Confused, Eren asks, “Are you looking for something?”

Levi doesn’t respond, but he inclines his head towards the horizon in a silent request to join him. Eren shuffles to his side. Levi’s quiet for a moment or two, just watching the ocean, before he speaks.

“Do you know that in some parts of the world, the dead are buried at sea?” Levi asks quietly. Eren notices for the first time that he has something clutched in his palm. It’s a worn-down Survey Corps badge with ragged edges, like it had been ripped out of someone’s coat. Levi’s thumb smooths across it, over and over again.

“No,” Eren says quietly, awkwardness forgotten at this unexpected line of questioning. “I didn’t know that.”

“That guy - Onyankopon - he told me. He says that they’re sent out on little boats full of flowers and then someone shoots a flaming arrow at it, and they burn to ash on the water. He asked me if we did the same thing. I said it was a ridiculous question. We’d never have enough boats to bury everyone.”

Eren huffs a small laugh. “It’s a nice idea, though. I think I’d like to be buried at sea.”

“It’s strange. It’s a custom practiced all over the world, but it had never even been an option for any of our dead.” Levi’s voice is sombre. “They never got to know if we found the ocean. They never got to find out if there were humans outside the Walls.”

Eren remembers Levi’s words from years ago, after Erwin had died. That had been Erwin’s lifelong question, he had said. It was fitting for Erwin to die in Shiganshina, at the place where his questions were answered, even if he never got to hear them himself. Levi must be thinking about him. Eren often wonders if Levi feels regret for choosing Armin instead, on that fateful day. He’s never asked, and Levi has never offered to share. He’d always said it was his burden to bear.

What an awful weight to bear alone.

Eren’s heart constricts a little. There’s something different, about watching someone you care about struggle. It’s not even a choice to him, really. The urge to ease the burden is instinctual. “What do you think happens to us after we die?”

Levi sighs. “How the fuck do I know, kid? Maybe nothing will happen to us. Maybe all there is is The End.”

“I don’t think so. I think we’re still around, somehow,” Eren says, thoughtfully. From the corner of his eye, he sees Levi turn to face him, one eyebrow raised sceptically in a silent request for him to continue. “Historia told me something Ymir said once. She said, after all the time she spent wandering as a pure titan, when she finally escaped, she was somewhere beyond this earth. In a place unlike any other, with white sand and only stars to light the way… Countless stars in pathways, like little rivers in the sky. She said it was a place free of death, free of time, where everything is connected.”

“You think that’s where the dead are? In those paths?” Levi asks. His voice is quietly curious, free of judgement.

“Maybe?” Eren shrugs. “I don’t think they’re dead, though. It’s a place free of time, so maybe no one ever really dies at all. Maybe we just take on different forms.”

Eren looks up at the sky. It’s daytime, but it’s not too difficult to imagine the stars. “When Historia touches me, I get memories sometimes that aren’t mine. They’re my father’s. I have no explanation for how that could possibly happen if we weren’t connected somehow. And what Kenny said, about the Ackerman battle sense. Isn’t it the battle expertise of every Ackerman sent to you via paths that defy time?”

Levi stares at him. “How do you know about that?”

“You told Mikasa, and she might have told me,” Eren admits sheepishly. “She and I exchanged letters too, you know.”

Levi huffs a tired laugh. “Yeah. So what are you saying? That I shouldn’t be sad because no one ever really dies?”

“I think it’s always okay to be sad. But what I’m saying is that all of us are connected, living or dead. If they can send us information from the past, who’s to say you aren’t sending them information, too?” Eren asks. He turns to give Levi a little sad smile. “I’m sure, somewhere, Commander Erwin is scoffing at what Onyankopon said too, sir.”

His eyes find Levi’s. The captain’s hands have stilled their absentminded fiddling with the old badge. He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just stares at Eren with this strange look on his face, like he’s seeing him for the first time.

After a while, Eren gets a little self-conscious, and he clears his throat. The noise seems to snap Levi out of whatever trance he was in, and he turns to look away, exhaling sharply. He seems to have come to some sort of realisation, and it appears to be making him a little angry. “When the hell did you get all mature and shit?”

“What? I don’t-”

“I swear, there was a point in time when you were definitely a dumbass.” Levi sighs. “Somehow you were less bothersome, then.”

Eren sputters. “I’m trying to be helpful."

“You’re too helpful,” Levi mutters disdainfully. He looks Eren up and down. “And when the hell did you get so tall?”

Eren scratches the back of his neck subconsciously. Levi’s eyes linger on the swell of his bicep and Eren’s cheeks warm. Is he checking him out? Please, please, let Levi be checking him out. He flexes his arm a little. You know. Subtly. 

Levi doesn’t appear to notice him flexing, or if he does, he doesn’t react. Instead, his eyes flick back to Eren’s, and he raises one dark eyebrow. “So, are you finally over your whole ignoring me phase?”

Eren chokes, arm dropping from his suddenly flaming face. “I’m sure I have no idea what you mean. Sir.”

“Uh-huh. And you avoided cleaning duty for weeks, why then?”

“Uhm.” Eren gulps. “Dry skin?”

Levi’s face is so unimpressed that Eren imagines the fish in the ocean below must shrink away from it. He doesn’t blame him, it really wasn’t his best excuse- Eren having dry skin is about as believable as Eren having bowel issues.

He spots Levi’s crossed arms and impatiently tapping foot and weighs his odds. If Levi’s calling him out on it, his avoidance must be more obvious and intrusive than he thought. He doesn’t want to cause issues, and really it’s not like it’s a big deal, just kind of… awkward.

“Eren," Levi snaps.

“Okay, okay!” He raises his hands in surrender. Why did he stick around to comfort Levi? His sad face was probably some kind of trap all along. Eren sighs, figuring there’s nothing for it but to tell the truth, now.

“I saw you. The other night. In the alley, behind the bar in the barracks.” His voice is halting and awkward. Levi’s eyes are still furrowed with confusion, so Eren takes the plunge. “You were with someone. A man.”

The confusion clears in Levi’s eyes as understanding breaks through. He frowns, but doesn’t otherwise seem all that bothered. Eren hates him. “Oh,” Levi says. “And that… offends you?”

“What? No! No, of course not!”

“If you were, I wish you’d brought it up so we could talk about it-”

“I wasn’t!”

Levi crosses his arms over his chest. “Well, why did you avoid me like a little bitch, then?”

“I- hey. "

“Well?”

“Because- because-” Eren’s voice is frayed with how fast this conversation has escaped his control.

“Yes?”

“I- I liked it!”

A pause.

Eren contemplates jumping off the cliff into the watery depths far below. The water would cool his flaming cheeks at least.

He can’t bear to look at Levi, but he can’t block his ears without running the risk of seeming like an absolute child and so he hears Levi asking blankly, “You liked it?”

Eren throws his hands up into the air in defeat. “This conversation got so out of hand,” he mumbles. Eren is a brave guy. He turns to face Levi and doesn’t flinch at the faintly judgemental look resting on his face. Somehow. “I worded that wrongly. I didn’t like, spy on you or anything, I wouldn’t do that. I walked off straight away. What I meant was that no, it didn’t offend me. If anything, it was- comforting. I guess. I didn’t realise that you and I had... similar tastes.”

Levi’s expression clears. If he’s surprised to learn of Eren’s preferences, he doesn’t show it. “Then why were you avoiding me?”

Eren can’t exactly say because I was fucking jealous, I've liked you for years, so instead he says: “I was afraid of mentioning it and making things weird between us, I guess. I wasn’t sure if you wanted people to know.”

“Hmm,” Levi hums. “Stupid. Understandable, but stupid.”

Eren’s voice is dryer than the sand. “Thank you, sir.”

“For the record, it doesn’t bother me if people know. It's just sex," Levi shrugs, as if sex was a regular and uneventful past-time of his youth. It probably was, he grew up in the underground. But it still makes Eren choke. "I don’t believe you’d go spreading that kind of thing around, anyway. And it’s not your fault for having seen it.” Levi’s gaze is contemplative, curious. “I’m surprised you didn’t mention anything about me being your superior officer. I’d understand if seeing or hearing of your captain’s sex life made you uncomfortable.”

Levi is just torturing him, isn’t he? What’s Eren supposed to say? The truth? Of course it didn’t bother me, I’d like to actively participate. Yeah, right. Instead he says, “It would surprise me more if you were a monk, sir.”

Levi grins, sharp and startled, like it burst out of him without conscious thought. “At least you’re smart.”

“Thought I was stupid?”

“You’re cute.”

“I-what?” Eren blinks.

Levi reaches out to smack him once on the cheek. It barely stings, almost affectionate. His palm is cool on Eren’s burning cheek. Levi huffs a laugh at whatever expression is playing on his face, before he turns to make his way down the cliff. Eren feels frozen.

“Oh, and Eren?” Levi calls. Eren turns his face and catches sight of sly eyes and a teasing smirk. “I’m glad you liked it.”

What.

Chapter Text

Eren is half convinced he’s imagined the scene on the cliff.

He can admit that it reads a lot like wishful thinking. Levi calling him cute? Saying he was glad he liked it? Perhaps his mind has finally taken pity on him and imagined the scenario to appease his tortured soul. It’s certainly everything Eren longs for: hope for his hopeless pursuit. As far as imaginings go, it’s really rather cruel in its simplicity. Just Levi, implying that Eren is something he might want.

Eren would kill for that. Low-key.

It’s maybe the third day or so on their leisurely journey back. They entered Wall Maria this morning, and have stopped in the Garrison’s barracks for a break. They’re crowded together in the mess hall, and the room feels suffocating with both the Survey Corps soldiers and the Garrison squished in.

To make matters worse, Eren lost his hair tie sometime on the journey here and the crowded room is making him sweat, causing his hair to stick to the back of his neck. It’s altogether quite unpleasant, and only worsens his self-pitying mood. He’s been pausing periodically during his meal to brush his hair back behind his ears, only for it to fall forward again.

The fifth time it happens, Eren collapses in defeat onto the table’s surface. Across from him, Connie snorts and Sasha shakes her head, unsympathetic. “I’ve offered you my spare ribbon, but you won’t take it.”

“I don’t know how to tie it with a ribbon,” Eren moans in defeat. He’s only used rubber bands so far. An unfortunate oversight.

From beside him, Levi raises an eyebrow. “That’s why you said no? I can tie it for you, idiot.”

He says it casually, but it isn’t a casual request, not really. Eren stills, surprised. He turns to look at Levi and realises that the other man is waiting for permission, so he nods. A hand smooths gently over the top of his head, collecting the strands into a loose hold. Levi holds out his other hand to Sasha. “Give me the ribbon.”

Sasha blinks in surprise, but complies easily enough. The hand with the ribbon brushes against the base of Eren’s neck, catching any flyaway strands. He shivers at the feel of Levi’s fingers against the sensitive skin there. Then in practised, efficient movements, Levi ties Eren’s hair into a tail at the back of his head. Cool air brushes over his forehead immediately, which is a welcome relief given how hot his face suddenly feels. “Thank you, sir,” Eren mumbles, uncharacteristically shy.

“Woah,” says Connie, impressed. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

Levi says, nonchalant, “I was born in a brothel.”

“What!”

“For real?” Sasha gasps.

Eren frowns. “I thought you grew up in the underground city?”

“I did,” Levi says, unaffected. “Those things aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“That must have been so cool!” says Sasha, in a statement even Eren can recognise as blissfully ignorant. “You must be really good at doing makeup, too.”

Connie gasps. “That’s true! You could have been doing Eren’s makeup this whole time, sir.”

Levi turns to face Eren, expression full of thoughtful intrigue. “I didn’t know you wore makeup,” he says. He doesn’t seem opposed to the idea, just quietly curious. His eyes scan over Eren’s face like he’s trying to picture it, only to find the picture altogether quite appealing. 

Eren feels flustered at the intent in Levi’s eyes. Is this-? Is this really happening? He thinks he might combust, and shakes his head to disguise his blushing cheeks, stuttering, “He’s-he’s not talking about rogue and kohl. Makeup is just what he calls the blood-spinal-fluid mixture.”

Levi’s expression morphs into one of disgust as he turns to Connie. “You’ve been calling it that?” he scoffs, “And here I thought maybe you hadn’t been dropped as a child.”

They’ve all heard a variation of this line so many times, it’s ceased to have the desired effect. Instead, Connie just pouts. “I really thought it would catch on.”

Sasha starts patting Connie consolingly on the back as he rants about why it’s an appropriate term, Levi continues sneering and making disparaging comments and Eren... He reaches a hand to the back of his head to fiddle with the secure knot keeping it in place and he marvels at how Levi had moved closer to tie his hair, so close their legs are pressed together and their elbows brush as they eat.

He never moves away.

Something changes between Eren and Levi after that.

Eren can be stupid, yes, but he tries to make up for it with earnest action and diligent observation. He can recognise flirtatious dialogue when he sees it enough times. And the look Levi had in his eyes? The way he had kept his knee pressed right against Eren’s? No, his brain would never be so cruel as to imagine that.

He knows he looks different now than he did before. With all this combat training, he’s lost the baby fat of youth, has grown into his height, and has arms that strain against his jacket. His hair, which he remembers Levi complimenting absentmindedly years ago now, has reached just past his shoulders. He keeps it up in a messy bun, and has heard people remark on his jawline. Has seen Levi’s eyes flicker there and linger.

It’s these little things that Eren becomes conscious of, in a way that he wasn’t previously, when he had given up all hope of reciprocity. He becomes all at once both aware of the space between them, and utterly compelled to do away with it. It’s ridiculous how one line from Levi and a mildly flirtatious conversation can set Eren’s hopes spinning.

It helps that Levi seems to encourage it. He smiles, little quirks at the edges of his lips, when Eren leans in to talk to him. His eyes unerringly find Eren’s in rooms he’s just walked into, drawing out chairs for Eren to sink into beside him. His praise takes on just the barest hint of intent behind it. And he pays more attention to what Eren says, treats him in a different way, like Eren isn’t his responsibility but perhaps someone whose company he genuinely enjoys. It’s heady.

There are two ways Eren could go about this. He could demur, and vacillate and hint at but never say. But what would be the point in that? Eren has always been singular about his ambitions, he pursues them with equal parts bravery and determination. So despite the way his heart pounds, Eren doesn’t hesitate at the encouragement Levi gives. When Levi pulls out the chair beside him, Eren slips into it. When Levi leans in to hear him, Eren bites his lip on a smile and leans in too. 

And sometimes, their feet brush beneath tables. Sometimes Levi catches Eren staring and rolls his eyes, but there’s a flattered grin on his face that he can’t repress. Sometimes Eren tries to compliment Levi, stutters, and then goes through with it anyway: you look nice today, sir. Sometimes Levi laughs at his fumbling attempts, but more often he lets the corners of his lips curl, subtle and sincere, and says simply, thank you, Eren.

Something was planted, that day on the cliff. Eren waits with bated breath for it to grow.

In the weeks that follow, groups of Scouts are sent on reconnaissance missions to identify resources that might prove enticing to foreign nations. Due to Squad Levi taking the lion’s share of the construction of Fort Erwin, they had been able to send other Scouts out to flag areas of interest at the time. It’s given them something of a head start now, which is important, because it’s all well and good to have trading partners, but ultimately pointless if you have nothing to trade.

In the end, they identify several options: some iron ores, ultra-hard steel from the factory district, and iceburst stones, which they have always used to power their ODM gear.

During their reconnaissance missions, Scouts had uncovered a colossal deposit of iceburst stones in the north of the island, beyond the Walls. It’s more than enough to sustain them for centuries, and therefore more than enough to barter with.

The discovery comes just in time, too, because Yelena and the others return with news.

“We’ve contacted several nations with requests to trade,” Yelena tells them. They’ve gathered to meet the Anti-Marleyan Volunteers in Fort Erwin, too eager to hear their news to wait for them to enter the Walls. “All very discreet, of course. Not many of them were willing to entertain the request or even to believe it was credible, but… one of them did.”

She unfurls a map of the world onto the tabletop. Her finger traces a path from an island Eren recognises as Paradis in the middle, all the way across the East Sea to a large body of land. “This is Hizuru,” begins Yelena. “Historically, they were allies of the Eldian Empire under King Karl Fritz the First. When King Fritz and the Eldians relocated to Paradis, they lost favour with the rest of the world. Energy resources are scarce in Hizuru, and with trade restricted due to their former ties with Eldia, they’ve suffered economically for decades.”

Hange strokes their chin. “Scarce energy resources, you say? I think our best bet for trade would be the iceburst stones, then.”

Across the table, Yelena blinks in confusion. “I’m sorry, the what?”

Hange nods their head at one of the cadets, who rushes to bring over a sealed gas cannister. It’s a miniature model of the metal cylinders they strap onto their ODM gear. Yelena frowns, even as she reaches out to touch it. “It’s cold,” she murmurs. Her eyes flick back up to Hange’s. “It’s an energy source?”

“Yes,” Hange nods. “But I’m afraid we can’t show you the stone in raw form. It vaporizes at any temperature above freezing.”

Armin leans forward, adding, “We ran some tests, against the coal from the captured ships. Iceburst stones generate around thirty times more heat in combustion. The gas can also be compressed to higher pressures. It’s how we’re able to power ODM gear for such long distances.”

“And you have enough to trade?” Yelena questions.

Before anyone can say anything to the affirmative, Levi cuts in, arms crossed. “We rely on a limited source within the Walls.” He’s looking at Yelena with distrustful eyes, voice deliberately casual as he drawls, “There’s a myth about the First King leaving behind a large deposit, but we’ve never found it.”

“Right, as Levi said,” Hange says, frowning. They shoot Levi a look, but they don’t question his decision to keep Yelena in the dark. “But we’re willing to trade whatever we have.”

“It’s remarkable,” Yelena murmurs, hand cupping her chin. “So that’s how you got the omni-directional weaponry to work. Zeke had wondered.”

Eren’s eyes narrow. “I don’t remember us giving Zeke any ODM gear to fiddle with.”

Yelena’s face turns sheepish, but there’s something incomplete about her expression. Like clothes that don’t fit quite right. “Ah, my apologies. Zeke had previously gotten his hands on some of your gear before the alliance.”

“You mean when he attacked us,” concludes Eren, unimpressed. He’s suddenly glad Levi had kept the deposit a secret from Yelena. The others forget sometimes, that she’s here on Zeke’s orders.

Hange clears their throat, “Now, now, Eren. Let’s focus on the matter at hand. How are we planning to conduct the trade?”

“Hizuru is an aristocracy with several noble families vying for power,” explains Yelena, hands clasped behind her back. She looks grateful for the change in topic. “We’ve managed to establish regular correspondence with one of these families, the Azumabitos. The head of their clan, Lady Kiyomi, has agreed to venture to Paradis to discuss a potential alliance. Here, let me show you her letter.”

She pulls out an envelope with some foreign characters on it. The seal on the back looks oddly familiar, but the wax has been broken already and Eren can’t place where he’s seen it. Not until Yelena unfolds the letter within, and there, at the very top of the page, is a circle with three swords arranged in the letter ‘A’.

Eren gasps, “Mikasa, isn’t that…?”

He pauses.

He hadn’t been the only one speaking.

Eren’s eyes meet Jean’s across the table and there’s a small moment of confusion. Eren’s seen the brand that marks the inside of Mikasa’s wrist, of course he has. He’s her brother. He’s wiped her down when she was sick, changed her bandages when she was injured. So yes, he knows what her tattoo looks like. The question is: why does Jean?

Mikasa never takes it out unless she has to, something about her mother forbidding her to show anyone unless absolutely necessary. Sometimes she even wears it to sleep, so why-

Jean is beginning to blush.

Abruptly, Eren understands.

“You little-”

Armin knocks his ankle against Eren’s. “Not here,” he whispers.

“Armin, he’s corrupting her,” Eren whispers back furiously.

From the other side of the room, Mikasa glares at them. A single bead of sweat rolls down Jean’s face. Before it can escalate further, Hange interrupts with a question, “Is there something you want to share, Mikasa?”

Mikasa abandons her furious staring match with them to turn to Hange. “Yes, I-I recognise the crest,” she unwinds the bandage she keeps wrapped around her wrist, revealing the tattoo beneath it, “my mother gave this to me when I was nine years old. She said our family passes it down generation by generation.”

Yelena raises an eyebrow, “Interesting. The Azumabito crest is sacred to their family. It could be possible that you and Lady Kiyomi are distant blood relatives.”

Hange’s eyes gleam. “That’s good, right? That’s a good bargaining chip?”

“It certainly doesn’t hurt,” Yelena notes. “The Azumabito family has lost favour in recent years, and the clan has become smaller as a result. There are few of them left. Perhaps you should be present for the negotiations, Mikasa. Lady Kiyomi could be more sympathetic if we suggest you might be interested in a reunion.”

Mikasa’s hand circles her wrist as she frowns. “I don’t want it to just be some negotiation tactic. I do want to know more about my family.”

Eren’s heart twists. He wonders what Kiyomi Azumabito looks like. Her name sounds similar to Mikasa’s, so perhaps Mikasa gets her jet black hair and dark eyes from her mother’s side as well. She’s been trying to learn more about her ancestry in the last few years, Eren knows. Having lost almost all the family he loves, he can sympathise.

Yelena, however, waves a dismissive hand in the air, like she’s unsure why it should matter. “I’m sure that can be arranged.” She looks away, facing the rest of the room. “Well, that was a nice surprise. Now, perhaps we can turn our attention towards the imports we’d like to request from Hizuru in exchange…”

Eren waits outside the meeting room, one specific target in mind. The others trickle out without him, Yelena and her company first. She looks like she might stop to try and talk to him. So Eren tries to arrange his features in an expression that would best discourage her, knowing one of the terms of their alliance is that she isn’t allowed alone with him. She seems to change her mind, nodding once at Eren before she continues on her way.

Armin exits next. When he catches sight of Eren, he moves to lean against the wall beside him. Casually, he asks, “Waiting for Jean?”

“Yup,” Eren replies, popping the ‘p’.

“You do know that Mikasa probably wanted to do whatever it is they did just as much as Jean did, right?”

“Yup.”

“And that if she didn’t, she would have killed Jean herself and therefore doesn’t need you to protect her?”

“Yup.”

“Ah,” Armin says knowingly, “So this is just to mess with him?”

Eren turns to look at him. He grins. “Gonna join me?”

Armin grins back. “‘Course.”

It’s lunch time, so no one else is around the administrative side of the Fort Erwin barracks. They wait behind the doors of the meeting room, partially obscured from view. It takes some time, but eventually Jean steps out, looking left and right. He seems to deem the coast clear and begins to relax.

That’s when Armin and Eren approach him from behind and give him one neat shove forward.

Jean yelps in surprise. He spins on his heels to face them, fists raised in a defensive posture.

Eren glares. “Do you see what I see, Armin?”

“What do you see, Eren?”

“A little shit.”

“I’m not sorry!” Jean yells. In the face of two glaring titan shifters, his voice trembles, but he stands his ground admirably. Eren can respect that. “You can kill me, but I’m not sorry.”

“You don’t sound very repentant.” Eren cracks his knuckles. “Try again.”

“Okay, look, I can kind of get why you’re here, Eren- but what the hell are you doing, Armin?” Jean demands, hands falling to his sides.

“Don’t listen to him, he’s trying to divide and conquer!” Eren whispers furiously.

Armin shoots him an unimpressed look. He turns to Jean, pauses, then shrugs. “Honestly, Eren wanted to fight you, and that was a good enough reason for me.” His expression turns stern. “Now Jean, I believe my friend here asked you a question.”

“What the hell, you guys? I’m your friend, too!”

“And she’s my sister, man!” Eren raises one finger threateningly. “I was willing to look the other way when it was all sharing cups of tea and cutesy shit like that, but now that you’re-you’re copulating, I demand to know your intentions!”

Armin turns to face him, mumbling, “You’re really gonna go with that? Isn’t that a little archaic?”

But Eren can see Jean is beginning to crack, so he whispers, "Shh."

Jean waves his hands in front of his face. “Okay, look. I would never hurt her, you know that. Mikasa is- she’s-”

"Yes?"

“She’s the love of my life, okay?”

Eren and Armin pause. A beat, two, then-

“Awh, shit, man, really?” Eren says, touched. “That’s kinda sweet.”

“Yeah, Jean, I didn’t know you had it in you,” Armin remarks. “Good for you.”

Jean stares at them incredulously, chest heaving. His mouth is slack and he looks vaguely incensed. Armin and Eren blissfully pretend they can’t tell. Armin asks, “Does Mikasa know?”

That’s a good point. “She better know,” Eren says, face twisting into a scowl. A thought crosses his mind, something to really make Jean sweat. “You better marry my sister, you lecher.”

Predictably, Jean turns faintly green. Just as he appears to be contemplating a quick and easy end, someone steps up behind Armin and delivers a fierce kick to the back of his knee. Armin goes down. Eren panics, but he’s too slow to escape her.

"Your sister is right over here,” snaps Mikasa, as she twists Eren’s ear. “And she can make her own decisions.”

“Ow, ow!”

Jean looks pathetically relieved at being saved. “Mikasa! I swear I didn’t start it.”

“I know, don’t worry,” Mikasa says. She releases Eren and Armin to lick their wounds. Her expression turns softer when she looks at Jean. “Don’t listen to them. They’re just saying all of this because they think you look funny when you’re scared.”

Jean sags in relief, palms against his knees. “What the fuck, you guys? Holy shit, that took years off my life.”

“Mikasa,” Eren complains. “He was really buying it!”

She turns to shoot Eren a furious glare, taking a step towards him threateningly, and Armin laughs, throwing an arm around Eren’s shoulders to tow him away. “Sorry, Jean. Sorry, Mikasa. We were just having fun, really!”

Eren catches her hand as Armin pulls him away. “But you know we’ve always got your back, right? I could take Jean down, easily.”

Jean squawks in offense but Mikasa’s glare softens. “Yeah, I know. Now get out of here before I decide to beat you up, after all.”

“You could try-”

“He doesn’t mean it!” Armin says hurriedly, laughing. “Eren, stop it.”

Eren breaks into laughs, too, and he and Armin collapse against the wall of a nearby building, clutching their stomachs. Eventually, they’re out of breath. They slide down the wall to sit against it, necks tilted back to gaze at the blue sky.

Their little act feels like some lost part of their childhood, crawling into the future. Armin and Eren against the world, Mikasa there to break up the fight and scold them. Armin unrepentant beside him. For all Armin’s general partiality towards intellectualism and diplomacy, he’s never hesitated to step into a fight by Eren’s side. All at once, Eren is hit by a surge of fondness for his best friend. He knocks his shoulders against Armin’s and Armin starts chuckling again. “Did you see his face?”

Eren snickers, clutching his stomach, “Ow, stop, I can’t laugh anymore.”

Armin sighs, mouth still stretched in a grin. “Can you believe it? Jean and Mikasa, after all this time.”

Eren snorts. “Of course I can. Remember training camp? For a while there he’d just stop talking mid-sentence every time she walked into a room.”

“No, I know, I was referring to Mikasa. I’m glad she decided to take a chance on Jean,” Armin says softly. He nudges his knee against Eren’s. “Watching her hold a candle for you was getting painful.”

He supposes it’s not a surprise that Armin knew about Mikasa’s feelings. Or that he’s noticed the change between them, how they’ve mutually come to view each other as siblings now. Still, Eren winces. “Please don’t bring it up. We settled all that years ago.”

Armin turns to face him, expression open and curious. “What actually happened? I never got the chance to ask.”

“She confessed,” Eren sighs. “Or rather, I realised it. We talked it all out before I left to build the Fort. I told her I loved her like a sister and could never see her in any other way.”

Armin hums. His eyes are knowing. “And I’m guessing that’s when you told her that you were in love with Captain Levi, too.”

Eren chokes. “What?”

He shoots Armin an incredulous glance, but his friend just blinks back innocently. Eren supposes it was too much of a stretch to think anything would pass Armin by, he’s far too observant for that. And really, there are few people in the world who know Eren better than Armin does. So he just begrudgingly mumbles, “I wasn’t in love with him back then.”

“And now?”

Eren sighs. “And now, I don’t know. It’s complicated.” He tips his head back against the wall behind him. “I thought it would be a lost cause for the longest time, but recently-” he shrugs “-I don’t know. I think it could… I think maybe things are looking up.”

“What does it feel like?” Armin asks curiously. “When you’re with him?”

“He makes me feel safe. Like, I could do anything or be anything, and he’d support me. He makes me want to be the best version of myself.” Eren digs the heel of his foot into the ground. “Also, he’s like, insanely hot. I mean, have you seen him?”

Armin groans, shoving at his shoulder. “Gross, stop.”

Eren laughs. “Why are you asking about all of this anyway? It’s not like you.”

His friend looks away, but his hair is still short, and there’s no blonde curtain to block his blushing cheeks from Eren’s gaze. Armin must know it’s a futile cause to try and deny anything, because he says, “I… I met someone.”

Eren smiles. “Yeah? What’s her name?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“Hey!”

“It’s new,” Armin explains. “And I don’t get to see her much, anyway, only between missions, when we get to visit Wall Sheena. She doesn’t really talk much either…” He blushes. “She doesn’t really do much at all, actually.”

Eren stares. “Is she… comatose or something?”

“No!” Armin pauses. “Kinda?” He buries his face in his hands, and his voice comes out muffled. “It’s complicated.” He echoes.

Eren blows out a breath of air, turning to face forward as Armin tries to collect himself. Truthfully, he doesn’t really know what to say to a situation like that. So he decides to take a page out of Armin’s book, “What does it feel like? When you’re with her?”

“It feels… Like questioning everything and finding the answer to everything at the same time. She makes me feel like the world is smaller than it seems. And that helps, because sometimes things can be so overwhelming,” Armin says. He fiddles with his fingers. “She doesn’t say much back, but I think… I think she’s listening.”

Eren smiles at his friend. He knocks their shoulders together. “Then I’m happy for you. Anyone who catches your eye has got to be at least a little awesome.”

“You won’t team up with Mikasa to give her the shovel talk, too?” Armin asks.

“I might.” Eren grins teasingly. He reaches out and musses with Armin’s hair. “You know I’ve always got your back, too, right?”

“Yeah. I’ve got yours, too.” Armin smiles. Then he places his hand on Eren’s shoulder and says, sincerely, “But I’m not giving Levi the shovel talk.”

Yeah, Eren thinks to himself, that’s probably for the best.

Barely two weeks after they set out, the Anti-Marleyan Volunteers are back, and this time, they have brought Kiyomi Azumabito with them.

They meet her at the port. Historia, Hange-san and a retinue of military soldiers from every faction standing in pretty, serried ranks. Eren watches from the centre of their formation (the most defensible position) as Yelena extends a hand to help Lady Kiyomi off her vessel. She’s wearing a strange type of clothing Eren hasn’t encountered before, not even in the pictures from Armin’s grandfather’s books. It appears to be composed of several pieces of patterned fabric styled into a dress with large sleeves. Lady Kiyomi tucks these sleeves together so closely, they obscure her hands.

Eren had been right. She looks like Mikasa.

Their guests are taken by carriage into Fort Erwin. To his internal relief, Yelena and the Anti-Marleyan Volunteer Unit will not be joining them in their negotiations with Hizuru. They are technically a foreign entity, and not even a nation of themselves, so Paradis will bargain entirely on their own.

Once they reach the Fort, the Hizuru diplomats are ushered into a large, well-decorated meeting room. They’ve spared no expense in the décor, too eager to impress their potential allies. Finely woven curtains hang from the ornate windows and the meeting table has been polished with layers of beeswax. It gleams so brightly that its surface reflects the picturesque view of the sky that filters in through the window.

Kiyomi takes in her surroundings with polite interest, but Eren can tell her gaze is shrewd. As she turns her assessing gaze onto the soldiers, her stare catches on Mikasa and her eyes widen.

She gestures to one of her attendants, speaking words in a language Eren doesn’t understand. The attendant rushes to bring out a small brown box. With shaking hands, Kiyomi opens it and unfurls a black cloth embossed with the symbol tattooed on Mikasa’s wrist.

Yelena has already briefed them on how this bit should play out.

So Mikasa plays her part. She gasps, hand flying to her wrist. Kiyomi looks tentatively hopeful. “Do you recognise this symbol?” she asks.

Mikasa obligingly unwraps her covered wrist, displaying the Azumabito crest. Kiyomi gapes. “This symbol is something that was entrusted to me by my deceased mother’s family,” Mikasa says, making her voice meek. “I was told to pass it onto my own children, to honour our heritage.”

Kiyomi’s eyes begin to tear, and she reaches forward to embrace Mikasa. Eren sees his sister stiffen, but she allows the other woman’s arms to wrap around her. “What a noble, and admirable thing to do!” She speaks quietly to Mikasa then, words Eren can’t make out, and ushers her to sit beside her at the table. It’s somewhat amusing. She should be Mikasa’s guest, not the other way around.

The others arrange themselves around the table, Historia in the middle with Hange, Armin and Levi on her right side and Premier Zackly, Commanders Nile and Pyxis on her left. Kiyomi, Mikasa and her entourage sit across from them, as Eren and the other soldiers file around the room to stand against the walls, like silent sentinels. He sees Mikasa shoot Armin a sheepish smile.

Kiyomi turns to Mikasa, face set in an expression of long-suffering grief. “I’m not sure how much Yelena has told you about our clan, but we are few in number now. I have only three surviving heirs. You are part of Hizuru’s hope, the fruit of our lost children.” Mikasa gulps, even as she offers the older woman a nervous smile. “I am grateful to see you are doing well, and I know you must consider Paradis your birthplace, but please remember: Hizuru will always welcome you.”

Eren sees the others shuffle, trying to contain their smug smirks. Though Kiyomi had been addressing Mikasa, it’s easy to see how her sentiment might bode well for the negotiations. Kiyomi staples her fingers in front of her. “It is also, of course, wonderful to finally meet the rest of you. And you especially, Your Highness.”

Historia smiles a politician’s smile: big and insincere. “Likewise, my lady. What a historic day this is for both our nations.”

“Indeed. I readily admit that I am only here due to one man’s information: Zeke Yeager. He informed us of an heir to the shogun bloodline on the island. When we heard this, we arranged a meeting with him. He told us of the existence of Lady Mikasa, and we had to come and verify this for ourselves.” Lady Mikasa, Eren thinks, bemused. Kiyomi pauses, and her smile grows to show more teeth. “He also alluded to some… resources that might be present on the island.”

“You speak of the iceburst stones,” Zackly notes, eyes narrowed.

“Yes,” Kiyomi admits, one hand pressed to her mouth in a sheepish manner. “He suggested that should I assist him and come here, our nation might benefit from this resource. Perhaps we might even be able to usher in a new era of modernisation.”

She waves her hand dismissively, as if to say ah, but, “I know you must not have even scouted the reserves he mentioned yet-” that was untrue -“but if it’s true, then there is incentive for Hizuru, and for its many conglomerates, to… re-invest in the economy…”

Eren watches, transfixed, as saliva starts to drip from the corner of her lips, down her chin. Lady Mikasa, his ass. This woman isn’t here to look for family. She wants money.

Historia must be thinking the same thing because she looks deeply unimpressed. “Unfortunately, Lady Azumabito, Zeke Yeager does not speak for Paradis Island. I do.”

Kiyomi blinks. One of her attendants hands her a handkerchief and she daintily dabs at her mouth. “Of course, Your Highness,” she simpers. “What can we interest you with? Hizuru has a variety of fine cloths-”

“We want your technology,” Historia cuts in bluntly. “And we also want military aid.”

Kiyomi’s expression becomes more and more tense. She looks perturbed by Historia’s bluntness. Eren wonders if negotiations are meant to be more subtle, but it’s not like they have much experience in this. “I suspected it was something like that. I will not lie to you- Hizuru is a merchant country and has been since before the Walls of Paradis Island were built. Military prowess is not something we excel in.”

“And yet you managed to fend off Marley in the World War,” Pyxis notes.

Kiyomi swallows. “Marley had little interest in Hizuru. We had few resources; we were on the decline financially. It would have been too great a struggle for far too little a reward.” Historia narrows her eyes. Kiyomi must realise it doesn’t sound particularly convincing because she acknowledges, “Our technological innovations are a point of pride, I will admit.”

“Excellent!” Historia cries, clapping her hands together. “Then let us come to an agreement. We will provide you with the iceburst stones, and in return, we want the designs of every single technology that is built with it.”

Kiyomi blinks. “The- you- does that mean you’ve located the reserve?”

“My lady, you underestimate us.” Historia smirks. “We’ve already begun mining it.”

An attendant hands Kiyomi another handkerchief. She swipes at her mouth absentmindedly, then begins to nod. “Yes… yes, this could work. This changes his three-step plan, then.”

Hange cocks their head in surprise. “His three-step plan? What’s that?”

“Ah, my apologies. I was meant to convey this to you on his behalf,” says Kiyomi. Her eyes flicker around the room, first to those seated across from her, then to the line of soldiers along the wall, where they eventually fall on Eren. Her eyes parse over him, like she’s measuring his worth.

He isn’t sure how she recognises him. He shudders to imagine that he and Zeke look anything alike.

After a long moment, she looks away. “As you know, Zeke Yeager claims to have a trick up his sleeve. I shall not underestimate you again, and will assume that you know this ‘trick’ to be the flattening of the Earth.”

Hange nods. “We call it ‘the rumbling’.”

“The rumbling, right. Zeke Yeager has outlined a three-step course of action to ensure the safety of Paradis Island. The first step would be to demonstrate a small-scale version of the rumbling, by mobilising a minor section of the Walls.”

The soldiers in the room blink incredulously. Eren sees Historia lean back a little in shock. The rumbling is something they’ve fleetingly discussed, but Eren doesn’t believe they’ve ever seriously considered doing it. For Zeke to plan for it so blatantly takes them all by surprise.

Heedless to their astonished expressions, Kiyomi continues, “The second step would be to invest heavily in your military development. This is where we come in,” she gestures to herself and her assembled attendants. “We could share our technologies with you, build up your military until it can stand its ground against the rest of the world.”

She pauses to clear her throat, and finally seems to note their surprise. She stares blankly at them, then explains in an uncompromising voice; “Make no mistake, these two steps are inseparable. Technologically, Paradis Island is a hundred years behind the rest of the world. With our help, you might achieve scientific parity in half that. But fifty years is a long time, and Marley could launch an invasion any day now. Your only chance to buy yourself that window of safety is to enact the rumbling.”

“Fifty years?” Armin asks, and Eren can hear the desperation creeping into his voice. “Even with the iceburst stones? But… you said it changed his outcomes.”

“To some extent. Modernisation does not occur in isolation. To develop your military, you must simultaneously develop your lines of production, your factories, your transportation systems- it is a huge undertaking. A conservative guess, with the provision of a large amount of iceburst stones, would be thirty years.”

Thirty years. Thirty years, and the sacrifice of a portion of their Walls. Thirty years and putting their trust in Zeke to carry out the rumbling with Eren, hoping he won’t turn the Wall Titans around on them. Eren can’t be the only one questioning the soundness of this plan.

The room is quiet for a while, and then Historia asks, “And the third step?”

“The third step… is the continued possession of the Founding Titan, to act as a deterrent against future attack. However, for that to work, you will also need to perpetually retain a titan of royal blood.” Kiyomi’s gaze is grim as she stares back at their young queen. “Therefore, Zeke insists that the Beast Titan be passed down through the royal family.”

Historia flinches.

The room seems to collectively hold their breath as everyone internalises Kiyomi’s final step. This means- what? That Historia’s children will one day have to eat Zeke? That her children’s children will eat their parents, as the Reiss family did for generations? No, Eren remembers suddenly. They’ve been able to bypass the royal blood restriction by combining Historia’s blood with the Colossal Titan’s spinal fluid. They wouldn’t have to sacrifice their ruling family at all.

The others seem to realise this as well, because the assembled brass pause, and exchange meaningful glances. Everyone seems to be aware that while they know this, Zeke certainly doesn’t, and therefore neither does Kiyomi. And everyone is far too cautious of their new allies to mention it now, in their presence.

Well. Everyone except Nile Dok, anyway.

“Hang on,” the Commander of MPs says, hands pressed to his forehead like he’s trying to keep track of the twists and turns of this conversation and is having a hard time of it. “Why do we need the Beast Titan? Why can’t we just use Her Majesty’s- argh.”

There is an audible smacking sound. Commander Pyxis has slapped the back of Nile’s head. The Hizuru diplomats blink at them, aghast.

Hange clears their throat, waving their hands in front of themselves. “We’re terribly sorry,” they say, smiling sheepishly at their guests. “He’s awfully tired. Might I suggest we break for some air? So much to process, so early in the morning.” They turn to Mikasa, teeth grit in a painful imitation of a smile. “Mikasa! Keep our visitors company while we step outside, will you?”

Mikasa’s expression becomes fairly constipated, but she nods obligingly and turns to stare at Kiyomi anyway. “If you would remain here with me, Lady Azumabito.”

Kiyomi seems delighted by this turn of events. “Please, call me Aunty.”

Mikasa’s face clenches so hard, it could be made stone. “Of course… Aunty. Why don’t we start with discussing Hizuru’s various investments, I’m sure you have much to say on that.”

Eren muffles his snort behind his hand, but Kiyomi laughs, unoffended. “You know me so well already!”

Led by Historia, the others get up and file out of the room into the hallway outside. Levi is the last to leave and he shuts the door pointedly behind him. There’s a moment of silence, as everyone seems to process the last of their surprise over Zeke’s plan, and then Premier Zackly slaps Commander Dok hard on the back. He jolts forward with a squawk as Zackly yells, “Idiot! You almost gave away our biggest trump card.”

Nile reaches with one hand to rub at his back, where Zackly had whacked him. “Just answer the question,” he snarls. Then he catches sight of Zackly’s glower and adds, “Please. Given that we discovered a way to overcome the blood restriction, the Beast Titan doesn’t need to pass specifically to Her Majesty’s descendants, does it?”

“You’re right, it doesn’t,” says Hange, but a frown is twisting across their features. “As long as someone outside the royal family possesses the Founding Titan, we should be able to use royal blood to trigger the rumbling.”

“Someone would also need to take on the Colossal Titan,” says Armin, voice small. It’s barely above a murmur when he adds, “The Founding Titan would recognise its own spinal fluid.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” Nile demands.

“Yes,” says Hange. But their eyes, fixed on Armin beside them, are somehow sad. “I suppose so.”

Eren eyes the frown on Hange’s face, their downturned eyes. He takes in the way Armin has hunched in on himself, the way he’s staring resolutely at his hands. A sinking feeling begins to spread through Eren’s stomach.

“Wait,” says Historia, one hand raised in the air to halt the conversation. “I can understand the first two steps of his plan,” she says, biting her lip. “But I must admit that I don’t understand why it’s necessary for us to continually possess the titan powers. If we’ve already demonstrated the rumbling and adapted our military, wouldn’t that be enough?”

“A weapon is a weapon, Your Majesty,” shrugs Commander Pyxis. “It will never cease to have value.”

Zackly hums in agreement, stroking his chin. “On that note, Zeke Yeager offering the Beast Titan to us is an unexpected boon. With it, we will possess four of the nine titan powers. With the Female Titan out of commission, we will be evenly matched with Marley.”

The soldiers around the room shuffle, a buzz of excitement permeates the air. They’re phrasing it like a win. But there’s something more to this, Eren knows. The full reality of the third step hovers there in his mind, just out of reach, caught behind a locked door of denial. Some of the truth leaks out from behind it in a series of images:

Dark, red blood, steam curling through the air. A hand, a head, a torso- a collection of dismembered bodies. His left leg and left wrist begin to burn in remembered agony.

He places a hand over his mouth. He doesn’t want to remember.

From the opposite side of the room, Jean steps forward. “Hang on. Are you suggesting that even after this war, even if we win… we should still pass on the Founding Titan? The Colossal Titan?”

Zackly blinks back, mildly surprised, like Jean’s incredulousness is the unreasonable reaction. “Of course. Has that not been the assumption all this while?” He smiles, bemused. “It would be a waste to not pass it on.”

Pass it on.

What a quaint term. Perhaps it’s because they’ve been talking in circles around the truth this entire conversation, because they’ve used euphemisms to mask the horror of it- maybe that’s why the dread in Eren’s stomach has been slow to mount. Pass it on. What an inaccurate term. The titan powers are not a baton. They are not that harmless, they are not that kind, they are not passed down hand-to-hand.

This is the ugly fact of what they’re saying: yes, Historia’s children will be spared, thanks to their work-around. The royal family would be safe if they went along with Zeke’s plan. Paradis would even acquire the Beast Titan. But still, that’d mean-

One day, someone will have to eat Eren.

The locked door of denial, shut down tight over one of the most gruesome experiences of Eren’s young life, wrenches itself open.

He remembers with absolute aching clarity, then, the battle in Trost, when they were just recruits still. When he’d jumped into a titan’s mouth to save Armin. He vividly recalls the inside of its stomach, remembers waking up in a pool of blood, his left leg gone above the knee and his left hand cut off at the wrist. He remembers trying to wipe his eyes clear and only succeeding in spreading more blood over his face. He recalls the boiling sea of the dead that he’d been swimming in.

At the time, he’d processed his horror as anger. But removed from the chaos of the situation, the instinctual push for survival, Eren remembers that he was fucking terrified.

All this while, perhaps naively, he’d believed that they’d settle the war in his lifetime, that his titan power could die with him- passed down to some unknown Subject of Ymir, who would never know they had it. But if they plan to use his ability in perpetuity, even in peacetime? Then there will come a day, before he turns grey, when Eren is too slow. When they will change him out for a younger soldier, with quicker reflexes and a sturdier heart.

He’s a veteran member of the Survey Corps, a survivor from Shiganshina, a titan shifter who’s eaten someone, he has been eaten himself. How can he calmly confront this new vision of the future?

The room abruptly feels too small. Despite how crowded it is, Eren suddenly feels chilly, cold sweat beading against his neck. Absurdly, he feels like he can smell the sickening stink of the the titan’s stomach curling through the room. He has the sudden urge to vomit. He can’t stop his mind from wandering to other places he’d rather not go. He sees his mom being eaten, sees that flash of memory from his father, the syringe dropping from his hand as he sobs about how he’s sorry-

A hand grabs onto his clammy wrist. “Eren,” says Sasha, “you’re safe, okay? Talk to me. Give me one thing you can see, one thing you can feel, and one thing you can hear.” When Eren doesn’t respond, she shakes his hand. “Eren? See, feel, hear, come on.”

“See, feel, hear,” he mutters back, chest heaving. “I can see-” he scans the room, finds Levi looking back at him, eyes narrowed with concern “-I can see Captain Levi.”

Beside him, Sasha rolls her eyes fondly. “Of course you lock onto him. Okay, what can you feel?”

“Your fingers. The calluses around my wrist.”

Sasha squawks. “I don’t have calluses! I moisturise!”

She’s still got her fingers pressed firmly to his wrist, and the contact grounds him. He concentrates on it and slowly, the tension seeps out of Eren in inches. He finally feels some semblance of control over his breathing, and he knocks his shoulder into Sasha’s. “Thanks,” he murmurs. He finds Levi still watching him and gives him a reassuring nod, though his heart still pounds in his ears.

Then he tunes back into the conversation just to hear Armin say, “If its a question of our survival, and Zeke insists on this- then I will be happy to one day offer the Colossal Titan to someone else.”

Jean frowns. “Armin-”

“It’s okay,” he says, smiling sadly, “I knew that this day would come when I joined the Survey Corps. I will gladly carry out any order- even if that order is to give my life.”

And just like that, Eren feels the urge to vomit again. Sasha shoots him a look of worry. But this time, more than the urge to puke is an overwhelming feeling of anger. Eren hadn’t lived through that whole fucking mess of an experience in Trost just to save Armin’s life, only for him to throw it away now.

Eren remembers staring at the husk of his best friend on a rooftop in a ravaged Shiganshina, begging for Levi to spare him. Armin is the very best of us, he had thought, Armin doesn't deserve to die. Their fight against Bertolt, Reiner and Zeke had almost claimed Armin’s life back then. And now Zeke wants to take him again? Forget it.

Forget this whole farce.

He steps forward towards the others, out of the ranks of surrounding soldiers. Sasha makes to grab him, to keep him in line, but he dodges her. Those clustered before the doors stop their discussion to turn towards him, but he keeps his gaze on his best friend.

“Shut the fuck up, Armin,” says Eren, eyes locked on Armin’s cornflower blue ones. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Armin bites his lip. “Eren-“

But Eren isn’t done. “If our survival depends on us raising children to eat each other, then I would rather we all just die.”

“Eren!” Hange hisses. “I understand that you’re upset-“

Eren cuts them off. “Hizuru says it’ll take us thirty years, but I don’t buy it. We built Fort Erwin in a year. Killed all the titans outside the Walls in less than that. I refuse to accept that our only option is to carry out the one thing we’ve struggled so hard to escape from.” He stares at Zackly, at Pyxis, eyes wide. Then he looks firmly at Armin. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’ve fought too damn hard for us to just let ourselves be eaten.”

Everyone flinches, falling silent.

Levi is looking at the wall, mouth twisted in a scowl. He looks furious. Historia’s eyes as they stare at Eren are tortured, and then they flick to Armin and her expression twists further. Jean isn’t faring much better. It must be settling in for them- with the third step, they will grow old and grey, while Eren and Armin will be killed on an appointed day, by an appointed ‘successor’. He doesn’t envy the person that will have to break the news to Mikasa.

“Eren is right,” says Historia, with a tone of voice that does not lend itself to contention. “We have lost far too many comrades to the titans to easily confer that death upon someone else.”

“While that may be true, Your Highness,” begins Commander Pyxis, face grim. His eyes flicker between Eren and Historia. Questioning her priorities perhaps, or just her attachment to him. “The fate of our Island encompasses greater ideals than sentiment. The Founding and Colossal Titans are weapons which we cannot risk losing.”

“For once, Pyxis and I are in agreement. Perhaps Mr Yeager should take a note out of Squad Leader Arlert’s book and consider the responsibilities of a soldier,” adds Commander Nile, unimpressed.

“That’s rich coming from you, Nile,” drawls Levi, from the other end of the circle. He looks deceptively impassive, but Eren knows him well enough to see that the fury from earlier had never left his features. “Don’t you MPs hide away in the interior to avoid the exact thing you’d subject Eren to? Being eaten?”

Commander Nile looks appropriately offended, but before he can reply, Pyxis cuts in. “As much as I agree with you, Levi, it’s useless to point fingers. The fact of the matter is that we cannot possibly entertain the idea of giving away the titans we now hold. We would put ourselves at an immense tactical disadvantage.”

Premier Zackly nods, adding, “The military of our children would lack their greatest assets and for what? To spare our soldiers of today, who have already promised their lives?” He turns to face Eren. “You have my sympathies, Mr Yeager. But to entertain your request would be incurably selfish.”

Selfish.

He's right, Eren realises, throat closing up. It’s not really about him, is it? He can cry and yell all he wants, but it won’t change the fact that his titan powers will outlive him, regardless of how he dies. It is only logical, that once Eren loses his usefulness to the military, they should pass the Attack and Founding Titans onto someone else, someone they can control.

Historia shuffles in her seat. She seems filled with righteous anger, like she might fight them off on his behalf. He remembers what she had said to him, when they were trapped in the cave under her father’s church: I don’t care about what’s best for humanity. I might be humanity’s enemy, but I’m your ally.

Historia might be comfortable with jeopardising humanity, but Eren isn’t.

He doesn’t even know if it was right for him to protest like this. He has fought too hard to be eaten, yes, but he does not know if he will be able to win this fight alone. Historia could throw her weight around to try and save him, he supposes, but eventually she’ll reach the same conclusion: Eren’s fear is completely irrational. It has no place in the larger narrative. The fate of their island is greater than his wants.

I’m being selfish, Eren realises, not wanting to die this way is selfish.

Abruptly, it becomes too much for Eren. He doesn’t care that he shouldn’t speak here again, that he’s too low-ranked to get away with interrupting a meeting this many times. He doesn’t want to be here, to be witness to them negotiating the terms of his death, not when he knows he won’t get a say.

“Captain,” Eren cuts in, as Historia opens her mouth again. The people around the table startle and turn around to face him. “May I be excused?”

He’s conscious that he’s coming across as incredibly cowardly. After all, Armin isn’t begging to leave, but he doesn’t really give a fuck, and no one says anything. The expression on his face must be telling because Levi just nods, once. “Go on then, Eren.”

He doesn’t look back when he leaves the room.

Eren heads for the training centre. There’s a buzz under his skin that he can’t seem the shake. It feels like there are ants in his bloodstream, crawling and crawling inside him, a million little pinpricks of focus that grate against his nerves. He’s too keyed up to work through his feelings from earlier in contemplation, he needs to move, to smash through the fear and the anger until it’s quiet for a while.

The training centre in the Fort is abuzz with activity. Eren has been here before, he completes his scheduled combat training here whenever they’re posted to the Fort. So, he knows that the room isn’t all it seems.

It’s an outhouse on the barracks grounds, separated from the rest of the buildings, far enough away that most noise from within is muffled. Most of the newer Survey Corps recruits get stationed here first, to test their mettle in the face of the wide-open world. Because of that, the Fort is abuzz with younger recruits, all aching with energy and itching with something to prove.

So naturally, in the off hours, the combat room becomes a makeshift fighting ring.

Given how long the meeting had dragged on, they’re well into the off hours now, and the fighting ring is in full swing. The room is packed with soldiers, all arranged tightly together to form a circle in the centre. In the middle of it, two shirtless men throw punches at each other. The room is filled with the sound of fists slamming into skin, and the cheering and taunting of the crowd echoes off the walls.

Eren’s never joined the fights before. In fact, he has avoided this room like the plague in the off hours. He knows himself well- age has tempered his anger, but rage has been his longest companion. He knows that if he didn’t avoid the room, he’d be helpless to the pull of its gravity. All it would take is some snot-nosed recruit tossing a slur at him, and the atmosphere would make him swing.

But now, now, in this mood and reeling from the conversation, Eren wants someone to insult him, to give him cause. He aches for the fight. He wants to escape from the ghosts that trail after him, the injustice of it all. He wants to feel the burn of being alive.

So he walks up to the bookie, leaning by the doorway, and says, “Pencil me in.”

The bookie is an older soldier, probably from the Military Police. Those guys are always enterprising, but never join the fights themselves. He absentmindedly replies Eren, eyes still on the fight. “Sure. Name?”

“Eren Yeager.”

The guys stills, turns. He raises one eyebrow at Eren. “Hell, kid. You’ll skew all my odds.”

“What?” scoffs Eren, hands in his pockets to conceal his clenched fists. “Think your guys can’t win?”

“I don’t have any guys. It’s bad for business to have a favourite.”

“You know what would be good for business, sir?” Eren braces his forearm on the wall beside the man’s head, leans in. “When people pay at the door.”

The bookie tilts his head, acknowledging Eren’s point. He looks mollified by Eren calling him ‘sir’. All the same, these men. “Not bad, not bad. I know a couple dozen guys that’ll pay good money to see the wonder boy fight.” He grins. “I know a couple dozen more with enough to prove to try and take you on, too. Alright, done deal.” He holds his hand out to Eren.

Eren shakes it, can’t fight the feral grin on his face. “Thank you, sir.”

The bookie heads to the door to start hustling the new entrants and Eren himself heads to the back, where all the assembled try-hards are waiting for their turn in the ring. They shoot wary, surprised glances at Eren, but he doesn’t pay them much mind. He sets himself to the task of unbuttoning his shirt instead, and each movement is a conscious dispersal of energy. Flick, flick, flick. He shrugs off his undershirt, folds everything and sets it in one of the cubbies on the wall. All he’s left in are his pants, his boots and the chain Mikasa had gifted him, with the basement key around his neck.

“Hey,” says someone from behind him. “You Eren Yeager?”

Eren turns, hair tie in his mouth and hands cupped in the strands of his hair behind his head. It’s a rookie Eren doesn’t recognise. He’s frowning nervously at Eren. “Why?” he goads, around the hair tie between his teeth, mouth set in what might be a smile but what might just as well be a warning, “you scared?”

The rookie’s eyes narrow. “No. I just don’t think it’s fair of you to join, given you self-heal.”

“Awfully confident of you,” remarks Eren lazily, snagging the tie out of his mouth to wind around his hair.

“What is?” the recruit asks, with noticeably mounting irritation.

Eren grins, cocky and itching with the drive to fight. “Assuming that you’ll land a hit.”

The kid’s eyes widen in anger. Amusing, Eren thinks, what a paltry thing to be mad about. Eren’s angry about so, so many things, too. Before the kid can come up with a response, the bookie steps into the circle. The two men from before stumble out of the ring as the bookie calls the cheering crowd to attention, “Soldiers! I told you I’d make good on the money you paid,” he waves a stack of bills in one hand, and it’s a pretty impressive stack, given he’s just instituted the door fee, “and I keep to my word. Get in here, kid!”

Eren steps in. Some in the crowd gasp at the sight of him and there’s a mounting sense of anticipation. Eren rolls his neck, barely paying attention to the bookie’s words. He’s kept a tight rein on the roiling emotions inside of him up until this moment, but his grip is weakening. He can feel the ants rushing faster up his veins. The time for patience has left him.

A soldier steps into the ring, the rookie from earlier. He didn’t catch the bookie’s announcement of the man’s name, and frankly he doesn’t care. He just waits for the whistle- and then he launches himself at the soldier.

He takes a one-two-step, ducks the recruit’s punch and slams his fist into his jaw. His next kick is just beneath the ribcage, aiming for the man’s liver. When he hunches in pain, Eren aims a solid punch to the side of his head. The man goes down. The fight is over in thirty seconds, tops. The crowd watches, stunned. Then they cheer something fierce.

There’s a rhythm to brawls like this.

Eren has never considered himself much of a dancer, so perhaps fighting is the only form of artistry he knows. He has been fighting since he could walk. Some of his earliest memories are of his mother dabbing a cotton ball to his scraped knuckles. It had taken him years and years to rid himself of the instinctual inclination to violence- training camp hadn’t beaten it out of him, he’d been brought before Shadis for petty fights every week. Being a Scout had only made him angrier in the beginning. Really, he’d only started to practice breathing through the anger, exercising through it, after he’d seen the ocean.

Eren licks his lips around a grin. He’s missed this.

There’s a countdown, then more cheers, then someone helps the man out and someone else steps into the ring. The first few fights pass quickly- Eren is too angry to care about drawing it out, it’s just about the outflow of pent-up energy. But once the edge wears off, there’s a delightful mindlessness to it all. The only thing in Eren’s head is where he next needs to aim. And Eren has trained enough to be systematic about it: it’s all controlled bursts of motion and precision strikes to incapacitate his opponents in the shortest time possible.

The countdown, the exit, the new entrants. It’s a revolving door of bodies that spin in and out and Eren detaches a little from his body. He loses track of how much time passes. He could be anyone in this moment, really, couldn’t he? Maybe he isn’t Eren Yeager, who was eaten alive and will one day live through that horror again. Maybe he’s just a nameless soldier on a lucky winning streak at the weekend fighting ring. He feels a clarity of purpose that makes it easier to breathe. If he’s only focused on the fight, he has no room for fear or anger or anxiety over the future.

As his blood boils from the adrenaline, he pictures the ants beneath his skin slowly burning into nothingness, too.

It works for a while. He’s just slammed a woman into the ground, watched her stumble up and out of the circle. Eren turns his head to the side and spits onto the floor. He shakes out his stinging hand. Tiny, aggressive movements. The crowd is roaring now, delighted at his unmatched capabilities. His next opponent steps into the ring and charges at him. Eren dashes back, raises his leg to kick-

A whistle cuts through the air. It’s higher in tone than the bookie’s, the kind of rousing sound only superior officers know how to give.

The crowd quiets into absolute silence. There’s the thud, thud, thud, of a well-maintained pair of boots making its way across the floor and into the fighting ring. Eren’s opponent stumbles back, gulping. He looks deathly afraid of the newcomers.

And it’s for good reason. Levi looks furious, standing with his arms crossed. Connie and Sasha are behind him, shooting wide-eyed glances at Eren. Their captain casts a disgusted look at the floor, where a bloodstain smears the ground by his feet. “Eren,” he snaps. “Why the fuck are you defiling the barracks with this bullshit?”

Eren throws his head back, licks his lips, tries to get control of his shuddering breaths. The blood in his veins is still boiling. “The mess isn’t my fault, sir. They don’t teach them how to fight well enough, anymore.”

Predictably, that enrages Levi. “Oh, and you think you’re special, do you? Fighting a bunch of green recruits, you think you’re hot shit?” He clicks his tongue. “Don’t make me put you in your place, Eren.”

Something about that strikes Eren as profoundly funny, in this moment. Put him in his place? Eren has just been told exactly how he’s going to die. He can’t be put any lower than this. So he just grins, brushes his bloody hand across his nose. Levi’s face twitches at the smear of blood it undoubtedly leaves behind. “Sir.” Eren smirks, brash and unruly. He feels like a roaring fire, disorderly and disruptive, not amenable to control. “Please do.”

Levi pauses, takes another assessing glance at Eren and whatever he sees past the blood and the sweat and the anger must convince him of something because he turns to the crowd, still frozen, watching the scene with riveted eyes. Levi makes a disparaging sound. “All the rest of you- out.” The bookie from earlier tentatively raises his hand. Levi snaps, “I said out.”

They flee. Connie and Sasha hustle the more reluctant, nosy soldiers out of the room and shut the door behind themselves. His captain waits until the room is empty, until it’s just them, before he turns back to face him. Eren’s still standing where he was, messy and bare skinned. Levi looks at him for a long moment and then asks, “You gonna tell me what this is about?”

He should. It would help. A part of him wants to, but- the nightmarish images flash through Eren’s mind again, and he feels the ants resurrect themselves with a vengeance. He bites the inside of his cheek instead. “You just gonna stand there all night, or are we gonna fight?”

“Is that what you want?” Levi asks, steadily.

“Would have preferred it with an audience,” goads Eren. “It would’ve made my victory even sweeter.”

Levi heaves a sigh, not bothering to rise to the bait. He seems almost like he’d expected this. He starts to roll up the sleeves of his shirt, and Eren watches, transfixed despite himself, as various scars start to appear on the skin of his forearms. “Alright,” Levi sighs, when both sleeves have been rolled up past his elbow. He beckons at Eren with one hand. “Let’s go.”

Eren grins, raises his bloody knuckles and takes quick steps to close the difference between them. He knows where Levi is, can see him exactly, but between one step and the next- he’s gone.

From behind him, Levi makes a tsk sound. “Too slow.”

He slams his foot into the back of Eren’s spine and Eren stumbles forward. He spins on his heels, hands raised defensively. Levi kicks at his raised forearms, harsh, bruising kicks. Eren’s straining after the fifth one. None of the other fights had burned like this. Just as Eren gets used to the pattern of the blows, Levi rushes him, grabs onto his shoulder and kicks Eren’s right knee out from under him. It sends him sprawling onto the floor.

Eren catches himself on his palms, rolls out of the way of the kick Levi aims at his torso. He springs back to his feet, out of breath. “Cocky,” criticizes Levi, as he aims several punches at Eren’s arms. “You’re getting comfortable.” He gets close enough to punch Eren on the face then, but instead he just slaps him, once, on his cheek. It’s not even that painful. Then he takes a couple steps back and glares balefully at Eren. “I taught you better than that.”

“It’s not cockiness,” Eren contests, “it’s recklessness.” He grabs the arm the captain uses to punch at him with, and ducks, shoving at the underside of Levi’s elbow to raise his arm up. Then Eren grabs him around the torso and lifts him bodily off the ground.

They land with a thud onto the floor. Levi curses. He slams his forehead into Eren’s nose, and Eren staggers upright, cupping a hand against his face. Levi presses his advantage, follows him up and shoves him back further. “You want to be reckless, huh? Trying to live out some adolescent fantasy? You know better ways to handle this.”

And there’s something in his voice- he sounds disappointed, and that makes the breath rattle in Eren’s lungs. If there’s one thing in the world he still hates, it’s disappointing Levi. And his captain is right, he does know better ways to handle this. Levi himself taught Eren how to clean to still the nervous tremor of anxiousness, he’s seen Eren do sit-ups to escape a particularly potent bout of rage. But none of that would have worked here.

The anger rushes out of him, like steam from an uncovered pot. It’s replaced with an aching shame. He doesn’t know how to explain it. “I didn’t-“

Levi isn’t finished. With another shove, he says, “You’ve grown past this, Eren.”

But that’s the thing, isn’t it? Eren hasn’t grown past this particular fear, yet. He doesn’t know if he ever will.

He drops the hand that cups his bloody nose. When he inhales, all he smells is blood, blood, blood. “No,” Eren whispers. “No, I haven’t.”

Levi grabs his jaw between two fingers, uses it to hold Eren in place. He searches Eren’s face. “What’s this about, really? Is it about the meeting? Zeke’s plan?”

Eren flinches. He shrugs out of Levi’s hold. “Don’t- I can’t.”

“I don’t care if you can’t,” snaps Levi. He shoves Eren again, hard, and he stumbles back into the wall. “I’m beating up my best fighter and he’s not even putting up a fight. You’re damn well gonna give me a reason why.”

Eren’s gasping for breath. He slides down the wall, feels like his heart is in his throat. “I can’t- I can’t tell you-“

“Why?” Levi demands. There’s a pause. When Levi next speaks, there’s something different in his voice. “Look at me, Eren.”

Eren hadn’t realised that he’d closed his eyes. When he blinks them forcefully open, he sees that Levi’s crouched down in front of him, and his expression has twisted into concern. He looks less like Eren’s CO in this moment, and more like the man who tied his hair, who smiles when he sees Eren smile.

“Enough of this,” says Levi. His voice is quieter now, less furious, less disappointed. “You can tell me. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

Levi sounds worried, and Eren is so helplessly fond of him that the idea of speaking, of burdening Levi with this seems suddenly unconscionable. “I don’t want to,” Eren gasps. “You shouldn’t have to know. It’s awful, sir, it’s all so awful-“

“Hey. It’s okay. We just have to get you out of your head, that’s all.” Levi’s voice is sturdy, meant to reassure. He swipes his thumbs roughly under Eren’s eyes. It’s only then that Eren realises his gasping breaths were sobs, and he has tears running tracks down his face. “It’s me. You can trust me.”

Eren’s shaking his head. “It’ll haunt you.” It’s not a warning, it’s a vow.

Levi shoots him a look, says, “Give me some credit. I’m not a stranger to ghosts, Eren-“

“A titan ate me, once.”

Levi stills. His face slackens in shock, and then slowly, horror begins to creep in from the edges. Eren likes to believe he’s catalogued every possible expression that has crossed Levi’s face. This one’s a new one, though: genuine disbelief. “What?” he whispers.

Eren lets his head fall back against the wall behind him. He feels a weight against his thighs and realises that Levi has dropped on top of his legs, reeling from the shock. Eren tries to breathe past the lump in his throat. He still smells blood, and god, he’s so sick of it. “In Trost, when Bertolt broke through the gate, a titan was going to swallow Armin and I jumped into its open mouth to save him.” He swallows. “Do you know that you don’t die instantly when they swallow you? If your wounds aren’t severe enough, you can pass through their oesophagus relatively unharmed. It’s full of blood, so when you land in their stomach, you don’t die from the impact either. But it’s so hot,” Eren’s voice is a whisper, now, and he almost hopes it’s too soft for Levi to hear. “It’s so hot, that that’s how you die. You boil to death.”

“Fuck,” mutters Levi. He brushes a hand down his face. “Fuck. Eren, that’s…”

He doesn’t continue. Eren doesn’t blame him. “I think I must be the only person in history who’s been eaten and survived. There was a girl in there with me, the only other person alive, everyone else was just… body parts. She kept calling for her mother. I watched her die, did you know? I made it out by triggering the Attack Titan, but that blew up the titan that swallowed me, and everyone in it. So… we couldn’t even bury the girl.”

Eren stares at nothing, but he’s seeing something, somewhere else. He supposes he’s lucky, that he hadn’t been injured anywhere that might have caused his spinal fluid to leak out, that he hadn’t passed the Attack Titan onto some random Pure Titan but- Eren doesn’t feel very lucky, right now.

“It was awful. It’s awful, it’s awful, it’s the worst thing I think I have ever experienced.” He laughs then, a chocked off sound. “And that’s saying something, because I’ve been through some fucked up shit.” Eren stares at Levi, feels the weight of all his fear. He chokes on a sob and says, “Sir. I didn’t ask for any of this, you know? I know it’s- it’s childish to think this way, but it’s so unfair. I didn’t want this-“

“Settle down,” Levi hushes him, and he’s passed into that stage of concern where the only emotion he can express is gruffness. “It’s not childish to be angry about this, Eren. It’s human.”

Eren appreciates that Levi has said that. He knows that Levi is remembering how hard it can be, for Eren to still feel human sometimes. Into the space between them, he confesses, “I don’t want to die this way.”

Levi presses his hands firmly onto either side of Eren’s face, like he’s trying to hold him together. “You won’t. You won’t, Eren.”

“But I have to,” Eren whispers. “Pyxis and Zackly were right. The titan powers are an asset, how can I not pass them on? I’m being selfish.”

Levi’s expression twists from troubled to livid. “Then be selfish.”

Eren chokes out a wet laugh. “I wish I could. But that wouldn’t be fair, it wouldn’t be right. All of humanity would suffer, just so I could die how I want to.”

Levi stares at him.

There’s this look on his face then- like he’s caught off guard, vulnerable, like Eren has seen through him, to some sacred truth buried deep inside. Then the blinds slip shut across that exposed part of himself, and he looks unrecognisable to Eren. He can’t make sense of the expression on Levi’s face- it’s too many things at once.

“So what?” Levi demands, voice harsh. “We fight for years and years for humanity, the least they can do is let us have this. Who cares if its selfish? You think I haven’t been selfish?”

Eren blinks back at him. And no- truthfully, he doesn’t think Levi has been selfish. Hasn’t Levi sacrificed plenty? His squad was sacrificed to save Eren, he’s tortured and killed to save the Survey Corps, he’d even let Erwin die-

Oh.

Understanding courses swiftly into Eren’s mind. Levi’s expression abruptly becomes legible, like the surface of a window after you wipe off the layer of dust. Suddenly, the view outside is indescribably clear.

Eren had said: all of humanity would suffer, just so I could die how I want to. And hadn’t Levi once said something similar, on a rooftop in Shiganshina? Maybe it isn’t the right choice for humanity, but I choose for this to be the place that Erwin dies.

Yes, Eren can understand Levi’s expression now. It is righteous, and angry, and obstinate. Unrepentant, that’s a better word. Maybe it had been a selfless choice for Levi personally, letting go of Erwin, but it had been a kindness too. Erwin would never have recovered from that loss of personnel if he had been a survivor. The people of the Walls would have vilified him, would have called him heartless and a monster. Hadn’t Floch said something like that? We need a devil to fight devils.

By letting Erwin die, Levi had preserved him in the shadow of their greatest military victory. And now here they are, debating the merits of a selfish death, in Fort Erwin.

Eren doesn’t have a counterargument. Levi seems to recognise that because he shuffles closer, grips Eren firmly by the back of his neck and shakes him. “You listen to me, Eren: everybody has a choice. Always. You don’t want to do something, then all you have to do is fight off the people making you do it.”

Eren licks his lips. He understands and he agrees but, “Does that mean I should just… let humanity suffer for it?”

“Why are you treating it like a foregone conclusion?” demands Levi. “You let yourself be eaten or you don’t; either way we don’t know how the future will turn out. Maybe your successor will end up being a closet terrorist, and we’d all suffer more than if you had died peacefully.” Levi shakes his head. “Nobody knows, Eren. And nobody should get to decide this except you.”

Eren bites hard into his lip, contemplative. “Even if I chose that, how could I fight off everyone else? The whole military brass?”

“Her Majesty seemed inclined to fight them off for you.” The corners of Levi’s mouth curl into a smirk. Then he takes a deep breath, and says in a deceptively casual voice, “and if that didn’t work, well… there are other ways out of this hellhole, right? We could get your titan to walk us across the ocean.”

Eren blinks. There are several things about that sentence that catch him off guard, but the most prominent one is: “Us?”

Levi leans back a little to look at him, like Eren is a particularly slow child. “Did I stutter?”

His heart picks up speed, a firm thump, thump, thump, against the inside of his ribcage. “Sir,” Eren whispers, “I can’t ask you to do that for me.”

“I’m not doing it for you, Eren.” Levi looks at him, and how must Eren look, bloodied and battered from within. Yet somehow, there’s a fierceness to Levi’s eyes- a protectiveness. He’s looking at Eren like Eren is something to shelter. “Like I said,” he murmurs. “I can be selfish, too.”

Oh.

Levi, Eren thinks, rather desperately, you’re making this too quick, sir. At least let me enjoy the fall a little bit longer. 

He feels- safe. Cherished. But also, he feels intensely honoured. He remembers his earlier conclusion, that Levi had chosen the selfish option for Erwin, but that had been Erwin. Is Eren- does Levi care about Eren that much?

Suddenly, Eren becomes absolutely certain of his choice. Yes, he will fight off the brass or run away or- anything. Anything, if it means living this life a little longer. He’s someone worthy of Levi’s affections, in whatever shape they might be, and fuck if that isn’t one of Eren’s greatest accomplishments. He doesn’t want to waste this life, eaten by a titan before his time. And if Levi’s is to be believed… maybe he won’t have to.

The stench of blood that had been following him all afternoon abruptly dissipates, and the ants in his blood sizzle into non-existence. In their absence, he becomes aware of the fingers Levi has pressed against his nape. They’re tapping a beat against his skin. Eren’s mind is finally still enough that he can place its rhythm- Levi’s fingers are drumming to the beat of Eren’s heart, like he wants to reassure himself of Eren existence.

Eren gives up on pretending that he’s in any way composed. He sags like a puppet with its strings cut, falls into Levi. His neck is still clutched in Levi’s grip and his forehead thuds onto the other man’s shoulder. For some unfathomable reason, Levi doesn’t push him away. He just pulls Eren closer. If Eren was a more optimistic man, he’d think they were embracing.

It’s quiet for a while as Eren breathes in the clean smell of Levi’s shirt. As his heart stills, he becomes conscious of how they’re sitting. Levi is technically on Eren’s lap, splayed across the tops of his thighs. Eren himself is half-naked, held together by the grip Levi has on his neck. He feels a blush begin to burn its way up his face. Levi’s fingers pick up the pace in a subconscious response to Eren’s pounding heartbeat.

Despite this, Levi seems to either be unaware of their position, or uncaring of it. “Did you hear me, Eren? No one is going to make you do anything you don’t want to. Okay?” he says, voice dark. “Zackly can fucking try, the sweaty pig.”

“I heard you,” Eren whispers, trying not to squeak. He can’t help leaning forward just a little, to nuzzle against Levi’s shoulder. His captain stills but doesn’t pull away. “Thank you, sir.”

“Idiot,” disparages Levi, but it’s softly said, somehow sweet. “Could have just told me without all this hassle. Look at you, you’re a mess.” Eren probably is. He can feel the dried blood flaking off his skin. “Come on, let’s go get you cleaned up.”

When Levi moves to pull away, Eren catches his hand, holds it against his chest, unwilling to leave just yet. Something rests against the tip of his tongue, but Eren doesn’t have the courage to give rise to it just yet. Something more than thank you, which seems so trivial in comparison. Something that sounds a little like adoration, and care, and falling.

But Eren doesn’t know how to articulate it, and he knows that the bond between them is still too untested to bear a misspoken word with that much weight.

So he doesn’t say anything at all. Regardless, there must be something in Eren’s face that gives him away because Levi’s resting impassivity melts. The corners of his lips tilt upwards. “Tell me some other day, Eren,” he says. “You’ve got a long ass life ahead of you.”

And for the first time since the meeting with Hizuru, Eren believes that.

Chapter Text

Eren keeps on living, in the weeks after the training room. He takes Levi’s advice, talks about his fears without making a mess of things. And while his friends have tried to console him in their own ways, there’s not much anyone can do. They can’t afford to say no to the alliance, and so the military accepts Zeke’s terms. If not for Levi’s offer to fuck it and run away, Eren might actually have gone insane. But with that secret fall-back plan, he’s not afraid. He takes comfort in it.

There’s another thing to find comfort in- Hizuru does make good on their half of the alliance, so at least the people advocating for Eren’s death-by-titan aren’t completely without cause. As a gesture of goodwill, Paradis sends several crates of iceburst stones home with Kiyomi Azumabito, and a few weeks later, a ship arrives with engineers, teachers, constructors, and blueprints.

The next few months are like watching the dawn of a new age: their progress is sweeping and cross-industrial.

They discover the wonders of electricity, the game-changers that are lightbulbs. They learn how to build batteries and wires and phonographs. They are introduced to agricultural machinery, to tractors and sprinklers, which are predicted to increase their harvests tenfold.

While the team from Hizuru are experts in modern technology, they’re strangers to the iceburst stones. Luckily for them, the Island’s military has relied on nothing but. The Corps of Engineers works with them, and they discover how to adapt existing infrastructure to accommodate for a reliance on a gas-based form of energy. It’s a success.

Suddenly, change is everywhere. With the iceburst stones flowing freely from the deposit they discovered, there’s more than enough energy to go around. In the months that follow, boats begin to be built in the harbour. Power becomes reliable around the clock, in houses and schools and factories. Eager to supply the increasing demands of construction, mining and logging companies spring into existence, digging into untouched resources outside the Walls. A flood of natural resources inundates Paradis- combined with their increasingly educated workforce and improved power supply, it spurs their innovations higher and higher.

Eren’s nation begins to change, moving from a placid, complacent state to an advancing, aspiring challenger, eager for conquest. He gets this feeling, like Paradis is a long-slumbering beast finally stirring into wakefulness. He remembers the day they first saw one of the new warships fire a torpedo. It had sailed so far, with such force, that they’d all been filled with a childish sort of wonder.

“Energy is the catalyst for civilization,” says one of the Hizuru engineers, when she sees their awestruck faces. She smiles. “Welcome to the future.”

In the midst of all of this modernisation, they realise that their next step must be to speed up the rate of transportation. The roads are too slow to accommodate the rapid pace of their development, and automobile technology is too nascent to become widespread. So, they set out on their next big construction project: a railway station.

Their whole population throws their weight behind it; Historia writes a rousing address to the nation in a popular newspaper, and suddenly people are lining up to volunteer, or to send supplies. The Reeves Company gets called in for additional civilian help, and under the direction of Flegel Reeves once again, Eren joins the construction team.

However, he isn’t the only one forced to lend a hand.

“Hey,” pants Connie, brushing a hand across his sweaty forehead, “do we really need to be doing this?”

Jean sets down the bag of sand he was carrying, bracing his hands against his knees as he catches his breath. “We’re only here because some idiot-” he points at Eren, in titan form, currently setting planks of wood down to form railway tracks “-insisted that this would ‘strengthen our bodies’ and ‘show our dedication to the island’.”

Eren did insist that. He enjoys construction work, okay? Sue him.

Connie sighs, shielding his eyes with one hand as he looks up at Eren. “Eren, can you hunch over? At least that way we’ll have some shade.” Eren offers him one large, titan-sized middle finger. Connie scowls. “You should take responsibility. It’s your fault we’re out here sweating in the dirt.”

Armin tries to defend him, “We didn’t really have a choice after Historia did that whole newspaper stunt. It would have looked really bad if civilians were getting involved while the military did nothing.” He turns to Sasha, where she’s clutching at a bucket full of water. “Sasha, can I have some water?” She starts to run. “Sasha? Sasha, wait!”

He goes to chase after her and the others watch them with varying levels of amusement, though no one bothers to help. All around them, other Survey Corps soldiers, mostly members of Jean’s and Armin’s squads, are paving the railway with gravel, carrying supplies, contributing in some small way.

Eren feels hope surge in his gut. He thinks of Zeke’s conditions for Paradis’s survival. His ‘brother’ had claimed that they can’t depend exclusively on military strength, because they won’t be able to modernise in time. But as Eren looks around him, he wonders how true that is. He feels a conviction, deep in his bones, that they can do this. They can. They don’t need thirty years.

And Eren is right, as far as the railway goes. In a mere three months, they manage to build a train track within Wall Rose that spans from the Industry City in Karanes all the way south into Trost. With it, they now have a working transportation line to bring refined raw materials from the factory district to military headquarters, where it can be processed into weaponry.

To mark the occasion, Her Majesty throws a party in the Trost barracks. The Anti-Marleyan Volunteers, and for the first time Hizuru as well, are invited into Wall Rose for the celebration. It’s ostensibly an opening ceremony for the railroad but really, it’s just an excuse to gain a feel for their diplomatic allies. Their guests have been assigned a retinue of guards under the pretence of a welcoming committee, and careful eyes catalogue their reactions.

Despite the party’s underlying purpose, the atmosphere is reminiscent of the feast they threw after the construction of Fort Erwin- buoyant and hopeful. The banquet hall is decked out with numerous circular tables ladened with rich white tablecloths and eye-catching centre pieces. There’s food and wine and music, and Connie and Sasha making fools of themselves on the dance floor. This time, Eren doesn’t make the mistake of drinking or searching for random company- he eats with Mikasa and plays cards with some former Garrison soldiers (he wins two ration bars and a pack of cigarettes).

And when the night settles down a little, Eren looks for Levi. His captain is sitting with Hange and Armin in a corner of the banquet hall, the place with the best sight lines. Eren feels his lungs expand a little when he sees the fond exasperation on Levi’s face. He’s been feeling a little up and down since that first meeting with Hizuru. But for now, Eren lets himself put those worries away. After all, he muses, as he finds his way into a chair by Levi’s side, there are far better things to focus on.

Eren gently places a mug of tea onto the table in front of Levi, and the captain lets out a pleased hum when he catches sight of it.

“Hi there, sir,” says Eren, smiling a little shyly. The banquet hall is lit with electric lightbulbs (new additions), and as he looks at Levi’s profile, Eren finds he kind of misses candlelight. It had always painted Levi in the best glow.

“Eren.” Levi nods. His eyes flicker over Eren’s frame, but it’s not done in the interested way that Eren is slowly becoming accustomed to. This seems more like Levi is taking his measure, checking him for injuries. “I haven’t had the chance to ask you. You didn’t overexert during the construction, did you?”

Eren blushes, remembers the first time he had been part of a construction project. Levi had been the one to step in and feed him, to make him feel human, when he’d been losing touch with himself. His heart feels like the lightbulbs flickering around the room, charged and luminescent. “No, sir. I’m okay, thank you, sir.”

“Good,” hums Levi. He takes a sip from the mug of tea Eren’s made him and makes an impressed sound. “Not bad, brat. You’re getting better at this.”

Eren’s cheeks are red, red, red. “I’m glad, sir.”

Loudly, from across the table, Hange-san calls, “Well hello to you, too, Eren.”

Eren startles, surprised. He looks across the table to see Hange and Armin watching them with expressions varying between unimpressed and amused. He hadn’t even greeted them. “H-Hange-san! I’m sorry, I-“

“Stop bullying him, Hange,” says Levi. His voice sounds casual, but there’s a smirk lurking around the edge of his lips. “You’re just jealous he didn’t bring you tea.”

“I am jealous,” admits Hange readily. Eren chokes. They turn to Armin beside them. “Armin, would you bring me tea?”

In a series of deliberate movements, Armin takes a bite from the chocolate cake in front of him. Then he says, very succinctly, “No.”

“Worth a shot,” sighs Hange playfully. “Anyway, Eren, you interrupted a very fruitful discussion. I hope you’re appropriately regretful.”

Eren’s racing heart has settled enough that he doesn’t feel the need to continuously apologise. Instead, he just crosses his arms and asks, “What discussion?”

“Hange-san was telling us about the talk they just had earlier with Kiyomi and Yelena,” Armin explains. His eyes are twinkling, and it makes something warm in Eren’s chest. He looks happy, like he’s proud of himself, or maybe proud of all of them. “Lady Kiyomi is really impressed with our rate of development. She said that we should turn our attention towards offensive preparations against Marley.”

“Naturally, I agreed,” says Hange, hands gesturing in the air as they speak. “But I explained to her that our biggest issue is really a lack of information. We have no idea how Marleyans live their day-to-day lives, how important their military is to civil society, how they plan their cities. Are there separate civilian and administrative areas? Or is everything lumped together?” They point a finger at Eren, like he was planning to contest their argument.  “All very important questions, Eren.”

“I didn’t disagree!” Eren pouts.

Levi slings an arm over the back of his chair. “All those questions are one thing. The main issue I have is that none of our current information is first-hand.” He scowls. “We’re too dependent on Yelena and Hizuru. If they betray us, we’re screwed.”

“That’s a good point, too, Levi,” notes Hange, though they glance nervously at the surrounding tables. “Though maybe don’t say that so loudly.”

Levi makes a tsk sound as Armin says, “Hange-san, you said that Kiyomi offered you a solution. What was it?”

“Oh, right. This is the very important part you interrupted, Eren,” they say teasingly. Eren scowls. “Kiyomi said that the only way for us to answer all of our questions would be to see Marley for ourselves.”

There’s an incredulous pause.

Then Armin says, “What? You mean… we would actually visit Marley? The Survey Corps?” As he speaks, the twinkling in his eyes sharpens, turning from proud to hopeful. Eren hasn’t seen him this thrilled since they first saw the ocean. “Could we really?”

Hange ruffles Armin’s hair. “I don’t see why not. After all, we’re the scouting regiment, aren’t we?”

“How would we even get there?” demands Levi, considerably less optimistic. “And how the hell would we sneak around undiscovered?”

“We haven’t worked out all of the finer details, yet. But Kiyomi offered to take us on her ship. We would pose as diplomatic attachés from Hizuru, staying at their embassy in Marley. Yelena said she’d even have Onyankopon go along with us as a guide.” They smile, reaching across the table to poke Levi’s arm. “Don’t look so sour, Levi. This is a good thing!”

Levi just hums. His hand on the back of Eren’s chair taps a beat. He does that a lot, Eren realises. He wonders what rhythm Levi is following this time. “If you’re sure, Commander.”

Hange smile becomes less teasing and more sincere. “I’m sure.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to trust you,” sighs Levi. He sounds begrudging, but they all know it’s to mask the sincerity in his voice. He rolls his head on his neck almost lazily to turn towards Eren. “Eren, if Marley attacks us while we’re over there, you’d protect me, wouldn’t you?”

Levi’s face is deadpan, eyes half-lidded where they meet his. Eren flushes. It’s a ridiculous idea, like hell Levi would need to be saved. It’s far more likely he’d be protecting Eren, instead. And by the way his eyes crinkle at the corners, Levi knows that too. He’s teasing, Eren realises. Not one to lose a fight, Eren raises a playful eyebrow, despite his burning cheeks. “I don’t know, sir. If I followed the chain of command, I’d have to save Hange-san first.”

Levi snorts, reaching a hand over to shove at Eren’s head. “You ungrateful brat-“

“Yes!” exclaims Hange from across the table, arms thrown up in a cheer. “I knew I was actually your favourite-“

“You’re not his favourite, shitty glasses, he’s just being nice-“

It’s the finest night he’s had in a while, but Eren can’t keep track of the conversation much after that. He finds himself lured by this new vision of the future, this trip with Marley. Since that meeting with Hizuru, the future had seemed ominous to him- if the brass doesn’t change their minds, then Eren will spend the last minutes of his life on the run or being eaten.

But now, with the promise of visiting Marley, Eren lets himself put into words all the abstract thoughts that have been swirling through his mind.

They’re only following along with Zeke’s three-step plan because of the difference in military strength between them and their enemies. But if Eren can convince his superiors that Paradis is able to overcome that divide, then they have no reason to entertain Zeke’s idea. This trip is the perfect opportunity to gain tactical information that he can weaponise to better achieve that goal.

Eren should catalogue everything he sees. The culture, the language, the infrastructure. He wonders what their buildings look like. Are they tall, multi-storied marvels? Or do they have pointed roofs, like Onyankopon says his people have? Or-

Or do they look exactly like the buildings here?

The flicker of hope in Eren's chest freezes cold.

…Would their buildings look the same? Marleyans as a people are paler, taller, but they’re still human, obviously. Would their architecture, their ways of life vary more widely than their appearances? Would they be able to pick Eren out in a crowd, know that he was different?

Or would he be able to gather information like a snake, slithering through their ranks, camouflaged by the inalienable similarities that come from being human?

An uncomfortable churning sensation starts in Eren’s gut. It doesn’t seem right, to masquerade as friendly faces, only to plan to kill them all later. Isn’t that what Bertolt and Reiner had done? They’d slept beside them, ate beside them and yet- yet they’d broken down the Walls, anyway.

Would Eren end up being just like them?

For the thousandth time, he wishes there was some other option.

Despite the joyful atmosphere of the party, his mind can’t seem to divorce itself from the troubles that shadow him.

His muscles begin to cramp from how tense he is. He should get some air before he loses control of himself and starts trying to pick a fight with someone. He clambers out of his seat, says, “I’m going for a walk.” The others nod, too busy tossing insults around to pay him much mind.

Eren moves away from the main celebration and heads for the gardens in the barracks’ courtyard. The air is crisp and cool and the walk helps unwind some of the tension from his frame. Except for a couple of drunk soldiers, the garden is mostly empty, and Eren is grateful for the semblance of solitude. There’s a nice flower bush lining the pathway and Eren checks left and right before he plucks one bloom and puts it into his wallet. He’ll press it later, for Levi.

He leans against a column in a dim corner of the courtyard and fishes in his jacket pocket for the cigarettes he won in cards earlier. He’s smoked before (of course he has, he’s been in the military since he was thirteen) but it’s a rare indulgence. Levi hates it, can barely stand the smell of the stuff, and Eren snorts when he pictures his captain’s nose wrinkling in distaste when he returns. He places a cigarette between his lips and pats at his pockets.

His empty pockets. 

“Tsk,” he realises ruefully, I don’t have my matches with me.

A throat clears, and then there is the sound of a sizzle, a flame sparking into life. The dim corner Eren stands in is brightened a little by a flicker of fire.

Yelena stands next to him, one hand tucked behind her back, while the other holds out the lit match. She’s leaning forward a little, and her posture is oddly reminiscent of a bow. “May I?” she asks.

Eren pauses, cigarette dangling from between his lips, feeling wary and caught. She doesn’t move, even as the match begins to shorten, and the flame approaches her fingers. Eren watches, engrossed, as the light travels down the match. He sees more and more of it turn black and curl, and knows that Yelena must feel the heat now, it must be uncomfortable. Yet her serene smile never fades, and she never turns her eyes away from him.

Discomfited, Eren gives in. He learns forward with the cigarette still in his mouth and Yelena lowers her bow to light it. She waits until Eren draws away before she straightens and crushes the remnants of the match with her boot.

The tips of her fingers are burnt.

“Thanks,” Eren mutters. He steps away from her as soon as he can.

“My pleasure,” she says, still smiling.

Eren frowns at her. He casts his eyes around the courtyard, but it is still no more populated than it was before. “Aren’t you supposed to be with the welcoming committee?”

“I seem to have lost my guide and went looking for him. Instead, I found you,” she says. She’s perhaps the tallest woman he’s ever met. He must look up to maintain eye contact and it stretches his neck. Something about that unnerves him, makes him feel exposed. “Perhaps you could escort me back?”

He narrows his eyes, inhaling once from his cigarette before he turns away to exhale the smoke. Her excuse sounds like bullshit. She’s getting dangerously close to violating the conditions of their treaty; Eren isn’t allowed to be alone with her. That being said, he can’t just leave her to freely wander around in one of their biggest headquarters, either. He grits his teeth as he takes in her pleasant smile. She’s got him backed into a corner.

“Fine,” he says, pulling his cigarette out of his mouth. He uses it to gesture ahead of him. “Let’s go.”

Yelena looks pleased, and steps aside to wait for him to lead her. “I must admit that I’ve wanted to speak to you alone for some time now.”

“I could tell,” Eren admits. He takes another drag from his cigarette. He might need more of these.

“You probably wished to avoid an altercation that would jeopardise the treaty,” Yelena notes generously. He doesn’t think admitting that no, I avoided you because you’re creepy as hell, would go over well, so he stays silent. “I wished to ask for your opinion.”

“On?”

“On the nature of human existence.” She spreads out her arms and tilts her head back to face the night sky. “A philosophical question for you: which creature enjoys a greater existence- the caged bird or the bird with the broken wing?” She tilts her head back down to face him. “Let us assume that the caged bird will never be freed, and the broken wing will never heal. Which existence is greater?”

Eren has no idea why the fuck she thinks he’d be interested in this but, “Aren’t they the same? Neither of them can fly.”

Yelena smiles, seemingly pleased that he’s entertaining her. “I think they’re quite different. Consider: one of them dwells in a cage, while the other is in the forest.”

Hmm. That does make a difference. He stops walking. “What are your measures for greatness?”

“I don’t know,” she shakes her head, stopping beside him, “what do you think they are?”

Eren frowns, taking a drag from his cigarette. “Freedom,” he murmurs, “freedom and joy.”

Yelena nods, accepting. “Very well. Then on a metric of freedom and joy, which creature assumes a greater amount?”

Eren considers her question as he exhales the smoke from his mouth. The wind blows it to the left, through the open door leading into the courtyard. The barracks is on a hill, it towers above the houses before it. Eren looks past the open door, where in the distance, the colossal gates of Wall Rose stare back at him, like the bars of a cage.

He knows his answer. “If it were me, I’d take the broken wing. At least I’d have some measure of autonomy. The caged bird doesn’t have any say in the view it sees- it can never advance its own life.” He scoffs. “It’s no better than cattle.”

“Very good,” praises Yelena softly. “I’m glad that we’re in agreement.”

Eren blinks at her, coming back to himself. “Why are you asking me about this?”

She bows her head. “I must admit that the question was allegorical on my part.” She turns to him, entreating. “Do you not feel as though the Eldians are also caged? Even if you leave the Walls, your futures are constricted by the prejudice of the wider world and centuries of warfare.”

“Isn’t that what Zeke’s plan is for? For us to break free from the cage.” Eren’s cigarette has run out quicker than expected, and he drops it onto the floor with a sigh.

“I think it’s rather more like giving the bird a pistol. Will it break free… or will it kill itself?” asks Yelena softly. Eren freezes, boot still poised over the cigarette. He turns to face her. In the dim courtyard, her eyes are so dark, so inscrutable, that for a moment, they seem almost empty. “Who can say?”

Suspicion begins to curl in his gut, the way blood pools in water. He frowns, and in one sharp movement, has crushed the cigarette beneath his heel. “Where are you going with this, Yelena?”

“I’d love to tell you, Eren,” she says, “but you must promise me that you will keep this information to yourself. Your superiors… might not share our opinions, and I would hate to alarm anyone.”

Eren narrows his eyes. “Why do you think that I share more opinions with you than with them?”

“Simple,” she smirks. “How many of them are content with being cattle?”

Eren stares. Somehow, her empty eyes seem to capture everything. He swallows. She’s right, Eren realises, as he thinks of Nile Dok, of the MPs, who chose to run as far away from the ocean as they could, many of them are content with the cage.

But it’s irrelevant. Eren has never quite shrugged off the way Yelena makes his skin crawl. He doubts that, beyond this, there’s much they’d agree on. His best course of action here is to promise whatever he needs to, to gain as much information as possible. “I see your point. Fine. I won’t say anything.”

She takes him at his word. The guardedness that seemed to follow her abruptly vanishes, and her eyes become warm and excited. “Eren…what if I told you that your brother has found another option? One that might be more… agreeable to us?”

Another option? Like an alternative to Zeke’s plan? And they’ve been hiding it all this while, thinks Eren, fighting to keep the disappointment off his face. He knew their allies couldn’t be trusted, but to find proof of it is jarring.

It is paramount that she tells him everything. “What’s the option?”

“It’s a solution that doesn’t involve any bloodshed. Neither from the rest of the world… nor from you,” says Yelena, sympathetically. “In this option Eren, you wouldn’t have to be eaten. You’d die a peaceful death.”

He stares at her, stricken. She knows- she knows about his outburst in the hallway, at their first meeting with Hizuru. How does she know? He feels pried apart, like a locked boxed she’s forced open to gaze into with her empty eyes. She seems to take his troubled silence as encouragement because she steps closer to him. “Think about it: these long centuries of suffering, for everyone, they could all end with you and Zeke, two brothers that history will remember for centuries to come.”

He’s still frozen, too discomforted to say anything. She reaches out to clasp his arm. Her fingers are long, and her palm is cold and clammy, like she’s nervous. “Eren,” she says, with laudable sincerity, “the only way to save both the world and Eldia is to euthanize every Subject of Ymir.”

The statement hangs in his head for one second, two, before it snaps him right out of his stupor.

“What the fuck?” he gapes, stepping away from her. Yelena’s hand falls limply to her side. “Euthanization? Are you crazy?”

Yelena stares at him, crestfallen for a minute, before her expression wipes itself clean and she’s inscrutable once more. She turns to look down at her hand, lifts her palm to examine it, like she expects it to look different somehow, now that it’s touched him.

She’s crazy. “You’re crazy,” he tells her. “Your idea of how we should save ourselves is for us to commit mass suicide?”

“Not mass suicide. I suppose euthanization is an inaccurate term. More of a mass sterilisation, really.” She frowns at him. “I hope I haven’t offended you.”

“You hope you haven’t-” Eren pinches the bridge of his nose. “A mass sterilisation? You want to make sure no Eldian ever has children? Not a single one? How would that even work?”

She clasps her hands behind her back. “The power of the Founding Titan contains multitudes we cannot imagine. It remains inaccessible to you because you lack royal blood. But imagine the possibilities should you and your brother meet.”

“You keep forgetting that we’ve met before,” Eren glares, wanting out, out, out of this plan. “After he killed two hundred of my friends.”

Yelena coughs politely. “I understand you’re having some trouble internalising this. I shall just leave you with this then: it is possible for the Founding Titan and a titan of royal blood to access the Paths, which can be used to alter the bodies of every Subject of Ymir. By making it so that you cannot procreate, and therefore, pose no long-term threat to the rest of the world, you may live out the rest of your lives in peace with your loved ones.” She looks at him, entreating. “It’s like we agreed: with more freedom and more joy, would you not be greater creatures? Even if you were broken?”

Eren stares at her, in abject shock.

She seems disappointed by his disposition. “Well…If you wish to know more, you could always speak to your brother.” She reaches out and hands him a piece of paper. “This is an address, in Marley. When the Scouts go on their trip, perhaps you should pay him a visit.”

Eren clenches the paper in his fist.

She makes to leave, but then she twists her head back to look at him. “Oh and Eren? Do remember what you promised.” She presses her pointer finger to her lips. “Let’s keep this between us, alright?”

“She said what?!”

Hange slams their palms onto the table before them. Seated around Eren, the rest of their friends are staring at him with their mouths agape.

Eren had, naturally, confessed everything to his superiors immediately after the party. This had led to an emergency meeting with Squad Levi, Armin, Jean, and Mikasa (or as Eren has come to understand it, Hange’s Inner Circle). They’re sitting around a meeting room in Hange’s private quarters to ensure they aren’t overheard.

Jean starts and stops speaking several times before he says, “Is mass sterilisation even possible?”

“Yeah, how would that even work?” asks Connie, disturbed. “Would you just shake hands with Zeke and suddenly all of us would be…” He trails off, looking down at the seat of his pants. He gulps.

Sasha stares at her own body, similarly transfixed. “Would it all just… disappear?” She turns to stare at Connie.

Connie stares back. “Huh?”

“Huh?” Sasha repeats.

“Huh-”

“Oh, shut up,” snaps Levi. He’s got his arms braced on the back of Eren’s chair, but he keeps letting go to pace around the room. “I’m still trying to work out how the hell she got to Eren in the first place. She isn’t supposed to be near him, four-eyes. This violates the treaty.”

Hange shakes their head. “She isn’t allowed to be alone with him. She was in the courtyard of a busy barracks. We don’t really have a leg to stand on.” Levi lets out a frustrated tsk.

“She couldn’t really have thought we’d agree to it, could she?” Mikasa asks, frowning. “We can’t just take away everyone’s choice to start a family.”

“No, she knew the brass would never go for it,” Hange agrees. “That’s why she caught Eren alone.”

Armin turns to look at him. “And then she asked you to meet with Zeke?”

Eren nods, pointing at the scrunched-up piece of paper Yelena had given him, currently spread out on the table. The address is for an apartment complex in Liberio, which Eren knows contains an Internment Zone, because it’s where his father grew up. Presumably, she had given him Zeke’s home address.

Eren kind of wants to burn it.

“Why would she think you’d want to meet with him, though?” Jean demands, arms crossed.

“I don’t know,” Eren groans, placing his face in his hands. “She tried to sell me on the idea by saying that I wouldn’t have to go through with passing on the titan powers. She knew I didn’t want to.”

Mikasa frowns. “But how could she? She wasn’t part of the meeting with Hizuru, or the discussion in the hall. I didn’t even know that until you guys filled me in, after.”

There’s a pause as everyone collectively reaches the same conclusion.

“You don’t think…”

Armin’s face is grim. “From Eren’s account, she knew exactly what to say to get him to stop and hear her out. Someone must be feeding her information. There’s no other explanation.”

Hange lifts up their glasses to rub tiredly at their one functioning eye. “And here I thought our days of interrogating soldiers were over when we chased out Reiner and Bertolt. There’s nothing for it. We can’t interrogate everyone and risk Yelena catching on that we know. We’ll just have to make sure Eren isn’t alone from now on.”

Levi nods, hand coming down to clamp onto Eren’s shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he says threateningly. “There will be no more smoke breaks for Eren.”

Eren sighs. He knows Levi won’t actually ban him from them, but it’s the truth. Yelena’s ruined smoke breaks for him forever.

And so, from that day on, a member of Squad Levi shadows Eren wherever he goes.

He and Connie share a dorm room, so they walk to breakfast and back from their last shifts together every day. Connie also conveniently pretends he has to pee every time Eren does (but then he actually does pee). Sasha accompanies him to and from his combat training, and follows him every time he’s summoned to a meeting. He feels like their infant child.

Because both Sasha and Connie must divide their free hours between themselves instead of spending it together as they used to, he ends up an unwilling accomplice to each of their stupid antics. The last time Sasha had delivered him to a meeting with the Premier, she’d stolen a bite of Zackly’s sandwich. While he was still holding it.

Levi gets him for lunch times, and it’s his favourite time of the day. Compared to the havoc that trails the other two, lunches with Levi are blissfully uneventful. He waits for Eren at the cafeteria, where they stand in line to get food together and then Levi leads them to the same table in the corner of the room that he’s claimed for himself and no one else dares to sit in. 

It’s quiet in the cafeteria today, most of the soldiers engaged in a drill outside the barracks. Levi’s brought a stack of reports with him, which isn’t particularly uncommon, but it still makes Eren frown. Levi works too hard. “Can I help you with those, sir?”

Levi studies Eren for a minute, one hand wrapped around a mug of tea. Then he shoves the stack Eren’s way. “Yes, actually. Help me find Connie’s chicken-scratch writing. I need to cross reference his report.”

Obligingly, Eren flips through the stack. He’s got one eye out for the paper with Connie’s illegible scrawls, but his other eye is fixed on Levi, waiting for a moment when his captain isn’t paying attention. Eventually, Levi’s brows crinkle, eyes on the report before him, and Eren takes his chance. From his pocket, he pulls out the dried flower he’d pressed weeks ago. It had taken a while to press and even longer to seal with wax, but- well. Eren’s nothing if not doggedly persistent.

He locates Connie’s report after that, slips the flower in between the pages. Then he nervously hands it back over. “Here you go, sir.”

Levi takes it without looking up. Eren tries to exhale calmly, arranges the rest of the reports by category- just because he knows Levi’d prefer it that way. It takes a minute, but from the corner of his eye, Eren sees Levi still. 

The flower had fallen out, innocuous and delicate on the wooden tabletop. Levi’s long fingers gently lift it. Eren had chosen well- the red bloom looks gorgeous against the pale skin of his hand. Somehow, just seeing Levi hold it, accept it, makes the flower suddenly precious. In the moment, Eren is convinced it’s made of gold.

“Another one, Eren?” He sounds casual, dismissive even, but there’s a tiny smile on his face that he isn’t hiding very well. “You’re getting unoriginal.”

Eren splutters, shakes his head so some of his hair falls forward across his blushing cheeks. “I’m trying my best, okay? The only other thing you like is tea-”

Levi reaches out, firmly tucks Eren’s hair back behind his ear. He stares at Eren, at his flushed cheeks, in a way that seems all at once new and achingly familiar. He doesn’t say anything, but the tiny smile on his face doesn’t disappear, and that’s enough for Eren. 

When Levi does look away, it’s to push his tray across the table. He leans back, picks up his reports again, doesn’t meet Eren’s eyes when he says, “The bread pudding is for you.”

Eren blinks, distracted. There had been bread pudding? “How did I not see that?” He mourns.

“It was only for the officers.” Levi says, flipping at a page.

"Oh," breathes Eren, understanding. Levi hates sweet desserts. He would have had to have taken it with the express intention of not eating it himself- of giving it to Eren. He's glad that Levi isn't looking at him, because he must look like the most lovesick idiot imaginable. "Thank you, sir."

All Levi says is “hmm”, but Eren doesn’t care. He tries some of the pudding, just a taste. It’s cold, but it’s easily the best one he’s ever had. 

They pass lunch in relative silence. In between bites, Eren regales Levi with tales of Sasha and Connie’s biggest faux pas of the day (“The sandwich was in his hand?” Levi asks, grudgingly impressed), but the rest of the time they just sit and eat, enjoying each other’s presence. There’s a certain comfort to it, to being able to sit in silence with another person without it being awkward, without the spectre of anticipation weighing it down.

Levi has come to represent multitudes to Eren. When they’re on the clock, he settles into the role of commanding officer, easy as anything. But like this, when it’s just them, he finds a patience in Levi that was never there before. Yes, he’s still prickly and brusque, but Eren can tell it’s mostly just bravado. This new discovery makes him hopeful, it makes him curious. He finds he wants to know Levi, in all his many facets.

So Eren rushes to finish his food as Levi sips at his second cup of tea. The pudding really is good, just the slightest bit of cinnamon in it, and it warms him from the inside out. He hums happily, digging in, and demolishes it in minutes. Across from him, Levi wrinkles his nose in disgust.

He slumps against the table, happy and sated, and turns to Levi, who’s watching him disdainfully. “Can I ask you a question?”

Levi frowns at him. “I don’t know, can you? After the way you devoured that bread pudding, I’m not convinced that you’re capable of higher thought.”

Eren pouts. “Please?”

The captain eyes him for a long moment, then gives in. “Fine. Go on.”

“I’ve always wondered… what made you join the Survey Corps? You were a bigtime thug in the underground city, right?”

Levi raises an eyebrow at him. “How did you know about that?”

Eren offers him a sheepish smile. “Petra-san told me, back when I first joined your squad.”

“Did she?” there’s something wistful in Levi’s eyes, a mournful nostalgia. Then he blinks and it’s gone. Levi waits until Eren takes a sip from his cup before he says, “If you must know, I joined because I was hired to kill Erwin.”

Eren chokes. Around his constricting throat, he manages a strangled cry of “What?!”

Levi hums. “Yeah, some noble hired us to kill Erwin in exchange for citizenship. You don’t get that in the underground city. Anyway, we snuck in to kill him and then…” He trails off.

Suddenly worried he’s brought up unpleasant memories, Eren says, “You don’t have to-“

“No,” says Levi determinedly. He flexes his jaw. “They would be upset if I didn’t talk about them. Farlan and Isabel. They were… closest to me, in the underground, so they joined me on the hit. They didn’t survive our first expedition.”

There’s more to this story, Eren can tell. He knows enough about guilt to be able to read the harsh lines of Levi’s face. But guilt is never easy to uncover, and Eren won’t force Levi to dig it up now. “What were they like?”

“Farlan was tall, cynical, loyal. A bit like Jean, but less angry. Isabel was…” Levi looks at him, and the guilt disappears for a moment, replaced with something warmer. “She was a bit like you, really.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Levi’s brows twist in confusion. “What the fuck are you thanking me for?”

“It’s a compliment, isn’t it?” Eren smiles. “She was close to you, so she must have been pretty awesome.”

“Oh.” Levi swallows. The fondness wins out on his expression. Softly he says, “She would have liked you.” Eren smiles, pleased. As if determined to go through with the story, Levi says, “After they died, Erwin told me that he knew about our plan from the beginning, and had already duped the noble, so there was no point in killing him.” He huffs a laugh. “He told me to think for myself and to choose the option I would least regret.”

Eren tilts his head. He recognises that reasoning. Levi has used it on Eren more than once. “And you would least regret becoming a soldier?”

Levi turns to the side, to look out the window next to their table. It’s a beautiful day, cloudless and bright. “The first time I stepped outside, I was over two decades old,” Levi says softly, “what I regret the least is choosing the sunlight.”

Eren sucks in a quiet breath. This, he can understand. The sky and the sea are not too different, as far as motivations go. “If I may, I think that was a good choice, sir."

Levi tilts his head back to look at Eren. There’s a complicated smile on his face. “Petra really told you?”

“Yeah.”

“Should have known.” He shakes his head. His words are harsh, but his voice is fond. “Bloody gossip, that one.”

Eren wonders. He doesn’t know if it’s okay to ask, after all, it’s a far more pointed question than why did you join the Survey Corps. But then he thinks about how easily Levi had answered Eren’s questions so far and how Levi had said they would be upset if I didn’t talk about them. So Eren asks, “Sir, were you and Petra-san… involved, back in the day?”

Levi’s eyes are inscrutable. He says, “You’re too brave sometimes, Eren.”

Eren flushes, heart stuttering. “Sorry, I-“

“I didn’t say that I wouldn’t answer.” His eyes soften and he reaches out to touch the back of Eren’s hand, as if to reassure him. “No, we weren’t. She asked, but I wasn’t interested in a relationship at the time.” He shrugs. “She handled my rejection with grace and we became good friends instead.”

Abruptly, Eren feels supremely childish. What is he doing, making Levi relive all of this shit? He should have just waited for Levi to tell him on his own. Carla always said that his curiosity would get the better of him someday. “Right. I’m sorry sir, it wasn’t my place-”

“It isn’t?” asks Levi. His eyes are steady, where they meet Eren’s. He doesn’t say anything else, but he doesn’t need to. Eren knows Levi well enough to hear words in the silence. If it wasn’t Eren’s place, Levi wouldn’t have answered. Levi doesn’t suffer fools, much less nosy ones. If Eren says it isn’t his place, he’s saying he’s just another fool and Levi shouldn’t treat him any different. And that isn’t true, because-

Levi’s hand is still resting on the back of his.

Eren doesn’t want to be just another fool. So instead, he swallows and speaks. “It is my place, sir. Thank you for answering.” 

Levi nods, in that pleased way he does when Eren’s done a particularly good combat move. “You owe me one question.”

They didn’t make any exchange of the sort, but Eren is willing to let it slide. “Shoot.”

Levi circles a hand in the air as he speaks. “On the topic of past ‘involvements’, have you ever been with anyone before?”

Eren turns away, wondering how he should answer. Talking about Kyle has never been his favourite subject. But he had just made Levi divulge the backstory behind three of his dead friends, so he supposes he owes him this much. “I- yeah. Yeah, I have. I guess.”

Levi senses his hesitation and offers quietly, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s okay.” Eren shakes his head. He does want to tell Levi, to share this with him. He’s held up all the other insecurities Eren has piled on him over the years, he doubts this one will throw him off. And besides, in the same way that Eren wants to know Levi, he finds he wants Levi to know him, too. “When we came back from the Fort mission and had that big party, I met this guy- Kyle. We talked a little, danced a little, then one thing led to another and…” Eren shrugs.

“It didn’t end well?” Levi guesses.

“No, it didn’t end well. We exchanged names, but he didn’t realise who I was until halfway through. Then he said some crude things that basically boiled down to ‘you’re a monster, and I don’t feel like fucking a titan’.”

“What?”

Eren recognises that tone of his voice. It spells danger and vengeance. His eyes snap to Levi’s and his captain looks outraged. “Sir, it’s really okay-”

“What a shitstain.” Levi has the fiercest scowl on his face. “What was his last name? Is he in the Survey Corps?”

“Sir,” he says, voice placating. “This happened over a year ago. I’m past it. Historia already offered to have him court-martialled, believe me." Levi's still scowling, so Eren jokes, "Besides, I was a doctor's son. I know where all the major organs are, if I decide to kill him.” But Levi still doesn’t look satisfied. Eren sighs. “I don’t need to get revenge, Levi. I know well enough that I’m not a monster.”

Levi’s face slackens a little in surprise. It takes Eren a moment, but then he realises that this must be the first time he’s called Levi by name. He opens his mouth to take it back, surprised at his own daring, but Levi beats him to it. He says, casual as anything, “Good, then. I’m proud of you, Eren.”

Eren flushes again and Levi smirks, pinching his cheek roughly. When Eren squawks and moves away, Levi’s hand comes back to rest on top of his on the table. The flower Eren had gifted him rests beside their joined hands, fragile but impossible to miss- helplessly, Eren thinks it rather resembles his heart. 

Levi taps his fingers on the back of Eren’s hand. “A doctor's son... I'm curious, brat.”

“What about, sir?”

“Do you think you’d have become a doctor like your father, if Wall Maria had never fallen?”

Eren snorts. “Nope. I was set on being in the Survey Corps, even before. Drove my mom insane.”

“Why?”

Eren weighs his options. He could say the truth, list some reasons about hating the Walls and wanting to see the outside, but what a waste of an opportunity that would be. He focuses on the feel of Levi's fingers tapping at his skin, and tries to be brave once more.

“There was this soldier,” Eren begins, leaning forward conspiratorially. “He joined not too long before the Wall fell. When the Survey Corps would pass through Shiganshina, I’d run to main street, find the tallest stack of crates and perch on top of them, all to catch a glimpse of this soldier.”

“Uh-huh,” drawls Levi suspiciously, like he’s about to call Eren out, “continue.”

“So, there I would stand, admiring him. He was my hero. He would come back from every battle more alive and fiercer than ever. He wasn’t the conventional type of soldier, you know. He had a troubled past, and uh, shall we say, a small stature-”

Levi scowls. “Eren, I swear to god-”

“-but he racked up a kill count unlike any other. Eventually, they gave him a nickname: Humanity’s Strongest Soldier-”

“Bullshit,” Levi says, deadpan. “Like hell you joined the Survey Corps for me.”

“Sir,” says Eren, in that same serious tone. “You were very handsome.”

“You would have been, like, nine.”

“So? I’ve always had good taste.”

Levi’s impassivity cracks. He laughs, loudly and compulsively, like he can’t hold it in anymore, like it’s been startled out of him. “You’re so full of shit.”

“I’m so full of shit,” admits Eren. “I joined to see the ocean. But the view on the way there was certainly a plus.” Ignoring his flushed cheeks, he winks at Levi, wiggling his eyebrows.

Levi shoves his face away, but he’s still grinning. And it’s as he said once, when he was sixteen years old, young and confused about why Levi made him so flustered- he doesn’t mind making a fool of himself, if it makes Levi laugh.

Chapter Text

The new year brings change.

The days grow shorter and the nights longer, the trees start to shake and shed some leaves. It doesn’t snow this far south within the Walls, but a chill still clings to the air, enough to necessitate the donning of extra layers.

There’s something about the turn of the clock that feels more tangible in January. The passage of time is crystallised in the progression of numbers at the end of reports- 853 turns so subtly to 854. It encourages one to calculate all the other figures.

Eren will be nineteen this year. Mikasa, too. Armin will be twenty- the age his mother was, when she had married his father. It seems almost impossible to contemplate, but it’s been ten years since Shiganshina fell, since his mother died.

He wonders how many more years will pass, before he stops dreaming of her.

Since the new year, he’s seen her in his dreams more often. He dreams her in their tiny kitchenette in that single-bedroom hovel in Shiganshina, braid over her shoulder and the smell of fresh laundry in the air. She turns to greet him as he stumbles through the door, and for one blissful, incandescent moment, he is always happy.

But as all dreams are wont to do, the mirage warps and shifts. He hears the stomping of too-large feet first, then the shaking of the ground. Then he blinks, and suddenly his mom is beneath a beam, screaming for them to go, and he’s pounding on Hannes-san’s back, eyes streaming with tears, and then his mother is being-

Well. Needless to say, he hasn’t been sleeping well.

To make matters worse, he’s been banned from any ‘open space’ activity, which means no training outside, no running, no ODM gear practice, no physical activity of any kind to burn energy off in the hopes of a dreamless sleep. Eren has been cooped up like a criminal- or like a bird in a cage.

It isn’t easy for anything to take a toll on Eren’s superhuman form, but the nights of fitful rest are slowly catching up to him. His body keeps trying to catch up on sleep at inconvenient times. Like now, at a table in Hange-san’s office. They’re supposed to be listening to Hange’s debrief on the situation with Yelena- after weeks of talks, the brass has finally come to a decision on what to do about the euthanization plan.

Eren knows he should be paying attention, but he was up the whole night, and the sunlight coming in through the window is so warm. His eyes keep drifting closed of their own accord and he really just wants to be left alone, just wants to sleep-

Someone is stepping on his foot.

He tries in vain to ignore it, but the person twists their heel in deliberately and he begrudgingly blinks his eyes open. From his right, Levi slides a piece of paper towards him. Eren frowns down at it.

In Levi’s messy scrawl, it says, wake the fuck up. Too tired to care, Eren picks up his pen to simply write back ‘I can’t’, when he catches sight of the rest of Levi’s sentence, if you fall asleep again, I’m making you have lunches with Sasha.

Low blow. Levi should know by now how much Eren looks forward to their lunches. And forcing him to eat with Sasha is as good as condemning him to starve. He knows her too well- she’d eat his portion.

So Eren replies, :( 

He nudges the paper to his right, watches Levi roll his eyes and start to scribble on it. Through one ear, Eren listens to Hange drone on about the alliance with Yelena, “so Pyxis said that in the meantime, we should better our relations with Hizuru, and this is where the briefings come in-“

Levi slides the paper back. Don’t be cute, brat, scolds Levi’s handwriting. Why are you even this tired? It’s not like you do any physical training anymore.

He contemplates telling Levi about it, but it’s too long to write out and he’s deprived of energy as it is. He’ll tell him over lunch. For now, Eren underlines Levi’s messy ‘brat’, and draws a little broken heart next to it, before he hands it over again. Across the table, Armin says, “The briefings will be held by diplomats from Hizuru. They’re scheduled to arrive at the port in one week’s time. It’s really rather exciting. Kiyomi is sending professionals in language, culture, history-“

His captain has written a lengthy response back, you’re not answering my question. Since we got here, you’ve fallen asleep four times. I know you don’t get sick, so hurry up and say what’s bothering you. Eren’s heart warms at the concern he can almost hear in the scribbled words. Then he catches sight of the rest of the paper, and his slumbering pulse starts to race.

Because his silly doodle of a broken heart has company now. Levi has drawn bandages over it, and he’s sketched a too-big, squarish cup of tea beside it. There are even wobbly curls of steam radiating from the top.

Eren realises two fundamental truths in that moment: firstly, Levi is objectively terrible at drawing. And secondly, his captain must know him better than he thought, if he manages to cheer Eren up without even knowing what’s upset him in the first place. He wonders when that happened- was it three years ago, when Levi had forced him to eat his first meal in days? Or was it last week, when Eren had made him laugh with a made-up tale of hero worship?

Time is such a strange thing. It builds and it builds on memories, like the film reels the Azumabitos are teaching them to make. Spools of captured moments that form something wholly different, the longer it goes on. Sometimes Eren wishes it would end sooner, like when he’s in the happy space of his dream and the house has yet to crumble. But other times, like now, sat in the space of what time has created between two people-

He thinks, perhaps time can build good things, too.

The lingering unrest of the last few weeks slides off his shoulders a little. None of his problems are solved- but somehow they seem less significant, when faced with moments like this.

Maybe it’s because Eren is now fully awake that he catches the next part of the conversation. “Wait, what are the briefings for again?” asks Connie, brows furrowed.

“To prepare us for the trip to Marley,” snaps Jean, “haven’t you been paying attention?”

Eren hasn’t been paying attention, evidently, because this makes the tentative smile at his lips fall away. They’re still planning to go to Marley? But Eren had thought- he’d assumed- “Isn’t it too dangerous to go?” he asks, eyes wide, “I mean, Zeke and Yelena- they’re expecting me to meet with him. Won’t they know if I don’t?”

Armin and Hange exchange glances. It’s Hange who says, “We received some information from Kiyomi. It seems the Marley Mid-East War is getting bloodier. They’re pulling out all the stops to win, so it’s perfectly reasonable to assume that the Beast Titan won’t even be there for your little reunion.” Hange shrugs. “The only way for you to meet would be for you to stay undercover in Marley until he gets back.”

Eren wrinkles his nose. Staying undercover in Marley? In the Internment Zone? To wait for Zeke? “Yeah, no thanks.”

“That’s what we thought,” says Hange, but there’s a pleased smile tugging at their lips, like he’s done them proud.

“But that just means if we come back with Eren, Yelena will know that he’s not going through with the plan,” asks Mikasa, characteristically worried. “Won’t that just put Eren in danger anyway?”

“We have a plan for that, Mikasa,” says Armin, reaching out to reassuringly pat at her hand, “while Eren is safe in Marley with us, the Garrison and the Military Police will slowly freeze Yelena out.”

Jean narrows his eyes. “Freeze her out until…?”

Hange steeples their fingers beneath their chin. “Until we can terminate the alliance, of course.”

Connie chokes. “What?!”

“Terminate?” demands Eren, shocked. “As in, kick them out? Completely?”

“Yes, Eren, that’s usually what terminating an alliance means,” teases Hange. Then they sober up, face grim. “After what you told us, we cannot in good conscience continue to foster a partnership with them. Their end goal is the literal extinction of our entire race. It would be suicidal at worst and negligible at best for us to stick with the status quo.”

“And there’s the informant to worry about, too,” adds Armin, with a sideways glance out the window. They’ve kept it closed, in the interest of privacy. “I can’t imagine why any Eldian would side with Yelena. The fact that someone has is a testament to the risk she poses.”

“Can we even afford to end the alliance though, Hange-san?” asks Sasha, biting nervously at her bottom lip. “Don’t we need them to modernise?”

“Why?” asks Levi, deadpan. He jerks his chin up at the lightbulb dangling from the ceiling. “Look around you, glutton. We’ve mastered more than radio communication at this point.”

Armin nods, says, “Captain Levi is right. We’ve developed far past any technological innovation they have left to offer us.” He shrugs. “Honestly, our main priority is retaining the alliance with Kiyomi. That’s why we can’t cut ties with Yelena outright- given that the Volunteers are mutual allies, breaking off our arrangement with them would be too risky until we’re on firmer ground with Hizuru.” 

“Hence the briefings Commander Pyxis suggested,” realises Eren, piecing together the bits of conversation he’s unwittingly absorbed. “If the Azumabitos are the ones conducting it, then we have an excuse to get closer to them.”

“Precisely.”

“You know,” begins Jean, reclining back in his chair until the first two legs lift up, “when Yelena first came here and admitted that Zeke sent her, I thought: ‘she can’t possible have anything to hide. She’s too honest.’” He shakes his head. “Shows how much I know.”

Sasha turns to the head of the table. “Were the other higher-ups mad at you, Hange-san? Since you were the one to introduce Yelena?”

Hange sheepishly rubs the back of their head. “Yes, actually- very astute of you, Sasha. They also weren’t pleased to learn about us having double agents in our ranks. Again.” They let out a loud sigh. “Let’s just say that if Historia hadn’t stuck her neck out for me, I wouldn’t be your Commander right now.”

“What?” demands Eren, appalled. Hange-san has overseen some of the greatest advances their Island has made in remembered history. Firing them seems unconscionable to him.

“Yeah, apparently I’m too trusting or something,” supplies Hange, rolling their eyes. “In my defence, who would have predicted euthanization as an end goal? Ridiculous.”

“We’re lucky it just pissed Historia off,” says Armin tiredly. “She threw her weight around and scared off half the brass.”

“Thank Erwin for Historia. Instating her was his best decision.” Hange kisses their fingers and holds it up to the ceiling, as if offering a prayer to a deity.

Levi rolls his eyes. “You’re pointing in the wrong direction, four-eyes.”

“Good point. All Survey Corps Commanders are definitely going to hell,” they aim another kiss towards the ground, “See you when I see you, Erwin!”

The others snicker at their antics, but Eren tilts his head. Something that Hange said makes him wonder, “If they had sacked you… who would have been your successor?”

There’s a pause as everyone contemplates the question. Those seated around this table are the oldest seven members in their regiment, as veteran as it gets in the Survey Corps. The successor would have to come from among their number.

Hange sneaks a glance at Armin. “I assumed it would be obvious.”

Armin looks away and shakes his head. “I couldn’t possibly. Thank you, Hange-san, but under pressure I- sometimes I just can’t.” He bites his lip. “I think it should be Jean.”

The legs of Jean’s chair thud onto the ground. “What?” he demands, eyes blinking rapidly, “Are you out of your mind?”

Armin frowns. “Don’t you remember Shiganshina, Jean? I could barely keep my wits together-“

Jean splutters incoherently. “I’m sorry, do you remember Shiganshina, Mr Colossal Titan?”

“But it was only thanks to you that we won-“

“That’s bullshit-“

Eren hums. He pointedly ignores Levi’s concerned words on their little paper messenger and scrawls a new missive beneath it: Bet. Armin or Jean?

Levi snorts when he sees it. He writes back, you do realise that it will be years before we find out, right? But after, like he couldn’t help but rise to the challenge, Armin.

Eren bites his lip. Armin is the logical choice- he’s been accompanying Hange to meetings in the capital for the last four years, is for all intents and purposes their second-in-command. And Eren really doesn’t want to bet on Jean, just on principle. But in the end, his thrill at Levi’s indulgence wins out. I’ll take those odds. Stakes? Fifty coins okay with you?

It’s a minute or two as Levi works out his answer, probably upping the bet two-fold. God knows that officers make more in a month than Eren makes in half a year. Armin and Jean are still squabbling and the others are getting involved now, Mikasa shaking her head fondly, Hange waving their hands to dissolve the argument-

Levi slides the paper back to him. It says, Think I’ll take fifty flowers instead.

Eren flushes.

It’s a helpless thing. He’s conscious of the fact that they’re not alone, that he looks feverish, that he’s way too tired for this, but his body doesn’t seem to care. His heart thuds against his chest. Levi snorts at the look on his face. Underneath his breath, he murmurs, “You make it too easy, Eren.”

Yeah, he does, but so what? His flush deepens, but he’s not one to go down without a fight. He leans closer to Levi to whisper, “It’s a bit of a waste. You’d have gotten those flowers, anyway.”

And he watches, heart aching, as the smile spreads wider on Levi’s face. Eren nudges their paper back towards himself, sketches out a few flowers next to their combined drawings from earlier. Underneath it, he writes for you.

His words are too large, they don’t stay confined to the flowers. The you trails over, loops underneath the heart, so that the statement encompasses everything- the flowers, the tea, Eren’s bandaged heart.

He has plausible deniability- maybe he’s just judged the space wrong. But denials don’t seem to matter much, not when all Levi writes back is a solemn, I’ll take care of them.

As the days pass, the military becomes increasingly involved in planning the trip to the continent. The plan is for them to board the Azumabito’s ship and spend two weeks in Marley, at the Hizuru ambassador’s residence, learning more about Marley and the war. Hange insists that the Survey Corps’ oldest seven members accompany them. “It’s blatant favouritism,” they admit. “You’re the only ones I trust to keep me in line.”

And so they’ve all been called in for briefing after briefing and given brochure after brochure on foreign culture, styles of dress, greetings. They’re given rudimentary training on Marley’s alphabet and writing style, which is mostly similar to their own but read right to left. They learn how to politely turn around intrusive questions, and how to differentiate which phrases count as deathly offensive and which are just charmingly obtuse.

It’s two days before they’re set to leave, and everyone is in Fort Erwin for the final set of meetings. The boat, Kiyomi’s own, has already been loaded with most of their supplies. Historia and her retinue have also made it to the Fort, and as has become her custom, she’s throwing a big bonfire party tomorrow. Eren has come to realise that Historia’s idea of diplomacy involves lots of small talk, more food, and even more alcohol.

“But what’s the bonfire for?” asks Connie, as he absentmindedly flips through the latest briefing brochure, this time entitled: Traffic Lights: When to Stop and When to Go.

“I think it’s meant to be something like the feasts we used to have before expeditions, a send off before the big journey,” Armin guesses, sipping from his cup of tea.

Jean frowns tensely, one arm slung around the back of Mikasa’s chair. “Okay, but then why are all the diplomats coming?”

“Historia said she wants to introduce them to more of our culture, so they feel a sense of companionship with us-”

“Who cares?” yawns Sasha, from where her head is pillowed on the table. “There’ll be food and booze, and that’s good enough for me.”

They’re currently on their lunch break, which is a surprisingly long affair. The Hizuru diplomats in charge of briefing them insist that lunch breaks in conferences are meant to be lengthy, ‘to savour the food and conversation’. But they’re all far too used to quick meals in the mess hall, and so they finish the admittedly delicious fare in minutes and are left to their own devices.

They’ve thus far passed the rest of the lunch breaks with a collection of asinine things, including but not limited to: ‘rock, paper, scissors’ slap-the-loser edition (Mikasa won), arm-wrestling competitions (Eren won) and seeing who can tie cherry stems in their mouths the quickest (Connie: “I didn’t cheat!”).

Levi, despite having to attend all the same briefings and lunch breaks, has thus far refused to participate in their antics, though he doesn’t seem all that inclined to punish them for it. Eren suspects that Levi knows it’s their way of coping with the anxiety of the upcoming trip, so he just watches them dispassionately and makes insulting comments. When Eren had won the arm-wrestling competition, Levi had said something to the effect of ‘don’t let it get to your head, brat’ and Eren had cheekily replied ‘I shall always defer to you, oh Humanity’s Strongest’.

He hadn’t realised other people might have noticed their interaction, or him referring to Levi by his title. But ever since then, the diplomats from Hizuru seem inordinately fascinated with his captain. They invite him to sit with them at lunch breaks and the few times he interjects in meetings, he’s met with riveted attention. The men from Hizuru are short, the women even shorter, and Eren can see how Levi spells a dangerous combination of tall, dark and handsome.

Eren won’t lie to himself, not about this. He has no formal claim to Levi, why would he? Though others have noticed their newfound intimacy, they’ve certainly never spoken of it to each other. So far their interactions have consisted of flirtatious banter and touches that are just too intentional to be considered casual. But aside from Levi’s conversation with Eren in Fort Erwin, about running away with him if things got too much, they’ve never promised each other anything.

Eren knows what he wants. What began as something of a hopeless crush has grown deeper, spurred on by the irrefutable proof of their compatibility. Because he and Levi are compatible. They laugh at the same jokes and they often seem to gravitate towards each other, like bees to honey. But perhaps more importantly, they have learnt to make space for each other- Levi hated that Eren sometimes smelt of cigarettes, but he still pulled out the chair next to him in expectation. Eren hated not being able to read Levi’s face, but he just kept on paying attention, and now he’s found a language in the twitches of Levi’s eyebrows.

They don’t always agree- but between choosing distance and choosing each other, they seem to keep making the same choices.

His feelings have crept up on him, like spring creeps up on the snow. He can still remember the initial realisation of his affections. He had thought; I want, I admire, and he still feels those things, but they’re somehow not enough to contain the immensity of his emotions now. He imagines his feelings to be like a sapling, curled in a pot. He’s watered it, tended it- and so he isn’t surprised that the pot is now too small to hold the tree that it’s become.

What else could his affection do, but grow?

He can’t help that he now thinks of Levi with other words, words he doesn’t know when he’ll ever say. Because while Levi doesn’t return the looks from the diplomats, he doesn’t turn them away, either. It could be in the name of strengthening their alliance with Hizuru, but… Eren can’t help feeling insecure. Like he said, they’ve never promised each other anything. He watches Levi from across the room, where he’s sitting dispassionately at a table surrounded by foreign diplomats.

And in that moment, as if tugged by an invisible string, Levi looks up.

They stare at each other, Eren at a table with their friends who are now making a scene about the bonfire, Levi at a table full of solemn strangers and Eren sees the longing on his face reflected on Levi’s. A simultaneous ‘come, save me’. It’s like a silent understanding passes between them: it’s not that they’d rather switch places. It’s just that they wouldn’t mind sitting anywhere, if they were sitting together.

He wonders idly, as the tree inside his heart grows ever larger, how long he plans to keep himself waiting.

The evening of the bonfire is a day of perfect weather. The air is crisp, and just cool enough that they won’t sweat to death around a raging fire pit. They’ve been released early, to finish packing for the trip. The bonfire is to be held just outside Fort Erwin, in the corpse of trees near the beach. It’s apparently meant to serve as a dual message of confidence in their safety and a celebration of their victories. It is, after all, where they defeated the first wave of Marleyan scouts.

The whole afternoon, the Fort’s cooks have brought out rack after rack of meat for the fire. Eren remembers first-hand how motivating meat can be to a group of hungry soldiers, and sure enough, Eren and the others get a little swept up in the festivities and general merriment.

Some of the others are bringing dates tonight, Jean and Mikasa are naturally going together, and Sasha and Connie had competed against each other to see who could get a date first (in the end, neither of them had. They’re going together in solidarity). All the while, Eren can’t seem to shake the feeling from earlier, about Levi. He feels like he’s standing on the precipice, and the only thing holding him back is himself. Eren had thought, fancifully, that he might ask Levi to go with him to the bonfire. But then he dismissed it. He’s too worried about seeming juvenile.

Still, he can’t help feeling nervous about how he looks, wondering what Levi would think, as if he really had asked him. He’s spent the last thirty minutes hogging the mirror in their dorm room, despite Connie’s protestations, trying to fix his hair. He had tied it up and let it down and brushed it out and tried to braid it and got it tangled and had to brush it out again. He’s currently defaulted back to his usual messy bun because the stress is making him sweaty.

The bonfire is supposed to begin at sun-down, and it’s already starting to get dark outside. Armin, Mikasa and the others are likely already there. Connie’s foot has begun tapping impatiently behind him.

Someone knocks on their door, but whoever it is doesn't wait for a response before opening it. It’s Sasha, wearing a pretty skirt, and she traipses in to sit on Eren’s bed. “Are you guys ready to go?”

Connie rolls his eyes, long-suffering. “Eren’s having a meltdown.”

“What’s wrong with you now?” Sasha asks, hands on her hips. Eren resents the ‘now’ in that sentence.

“I can’t get my hair to sit right,” he mutters, pressing his forehead into the mirror in defeat.

“What do you mean? It looks the same as it always does.”

“That’s the problem,” moans Eren.

Through the mirror, he sees Sasha and Connie exchange bewildered glances. Then they shrug, simultaneously. Connie turns to face him. “We don’t really understand what you mean, but you look fine, man.”

“Come on, Eren,” Sasha complains. “If we’re late, we're gonna have to queue for food.”

Eren sighs. “You guys go on ahead. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“You sure?” They check, but Eren waves them off.

He takes another glance in the mirror after they leave. They’d been commissioned clothes for the trip to Marley, and Eren had taken one of his new suit shirts out from his suitcase to wear tonight. It’s plain white, but he thinks it looks nice against his tan. He’s rolled the sleeves up to his elbow and tucked the ends of the shirt into a set of black slacks slipped into combat boots. The necklace Mikasa had given him, with the key to his father’s basement hanging off of it, lays against the unbuttoned collar of his shirt.

He tilts his head to the side, considering. Then he undoes one more button.

He stares at his hair, no better than it was before. He sighs. It’s not like Levi hasn’t seen him at his worst- bloody and covered in a day’s worth of sweat. And it’s not like I’m actually going with Levi anyway, he reminds himself remorsefully. This is as good as it gets.

He tucks the key to their room into his pocket and slips on his coat, then he’s off. He’s running a little late, the sun has set in earnest by now, and he speeds up his steps. He was right about the weather; the night air is cool against the sweaty nape of his neck. He finds himself slowing down, enjoying the journey through the empty streets and out the Fort’s gate. It’s a short walk to the forest, and the road there has been lit with pretty lanterns bright enough to light the way, but still dim enough that if one looked up, they could see the stars. 

Eren finds himself looking up, considering the multitude of twinkling lights that blink back at him. He thinks about what Ymir had said once, about the place free of death and free of time. He tries to picture the Path of stars she had described, that connect every Subject of Ymir. He finds himself thinking of his mother, and wonders what she would make of him now. He smiles, sadly, eyes still on the sky. She’d probably try to cut his hair.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Eren freezes, the smile slipping off his face. He turns, slowly, to eye the woman behind him. “Yelena,” he nods once.

She’s standing a few steps behind him but comes to his side when he acknowledges her. He casts his eyes to their surroundings. A trickle of nervousness climbs up his spine when he sees no one else in their vicinity- they’re all alone.

“You know, the stars look much the same in Marley,” she muses. “I’m sure you’ll realise it when you leave. Are you excited for your trip?”

“Yes,” Eren answers, monotonously. He’s anxious. He wonders if she’s realised that he’d told the others about their conversation, if she knows that they’re keeping tabs on her. He can’t afford an altercation with their allies, not this close to their departure.

“I’m glad,” she smiles.

He swallows. He can’t help the anxiety that crawls up his throat. Given her demeanour, she likely hasn’t realised that he’d ratted her out to the brass. Still, Eren is in no mood to give her an opportunity to realise his duplicity. He needs to shift the conversation away from himself. “Sure, yup,” he says, trying desperately for a nonchalant tone. “Say, Yelena- when we first spoke, I got the sense that you knew a lot about me.”

She looks pleased at the implication. “Your brother told me about you. I’ll admit to having something of a fascination.” She tucks her hands behind her back. “Speaking of your brother-”

No. “I was wondering-” cuts in Eren, thinking on his feet. Yelena blinks at him, startled. He stutters, “You know so much about me, but I know next to nothing about you. How did you even meet Zeke, anyway?”

Her smile dims. She looks a little guarded, hesitant, but he’s given her no reason to refuse him. Eventually, she exhales and tilts her head back to stare at the sky. Her voice is soft when she speaks. “I was on a boat, in the middle of a war. It was that hour of sunset when the sun touches the ocean, and the entire world seems like one continuous reflection of itself. There was another boat bearing down on us, and I thought; ‘the view is too lovely. I don’t want to die’.”

Something clenches in Eren’s chest. The way she had said it reminds him almost of himself- he shakes it forcefully away. He doesn’t want to pity her.

Oblivious to his inner thoughts, Yelena continues. “Then, like some divinely ordained will, Zeke appears. He stands over our boat, and shields us with his body. In that instant, I realised the true magnitude of his strength.” She turns back to face him, the most sincere smile he’s seen from her stretching the folds of her face. “You see, Eren, I had been given no recourse but to die. It was only by his grace that I lived.” 

“Right,” says Eren, trying to control his expression. By Zeke’s grace? Good lord. “And after that you swore yourself into his service?”

She gives him a look. “After that, I became convinced of his vision- of our vision.”

Eren tries to ignore the frown that tugs down his face. At this rate, he’s not going to manage to keep the conversation away from the euthanization plan. But in his defence, she’s really not giving him anything to work with. Deception does not come naturally to him, he can only think of generic questions, and the details Yelena has given him are far too vague for-

He blinks. Somewhere in the back of his skull, an alarm bell goes off. The details of Yelena’s story aren’t just vague- when he sorts through her adulations of zealotry, he finds that it’s inconsistent, too. “Hang on,” he says, brow furrowed, “you were in a war? Do you mean the same one that Marley is in, right now?”

They’d covered general history in the briefings, so Eren knows that in recent memory, Marley has only had this one, protracted conflict- their war for expansion. Any prior war would have occurred before Zeke’s years of service. 

Yelena’s smile falters. “Yes. One of the earlier skirmishes.”

The ‘earlier’ skirmishes? Eren frowns. “How long ago was this?”

Carefully, she says, “Some years ago. With all the travelling I’ve been doing since I joined Zeke, time has become something rather relative.”

That’s the vaguest shit he’s ever heard. The alarm bell rings louder- the pieces she’s offering him don’t add up. “How did you get away?” he asks. Battlefields are messy when they’re on land, he can’t imagine the difficulties of escaping a naval battle. “And, wait- when you first came here, you said that Marley had annexed your country. That would have made you and Zeke opponents. Why would he have saved you?” 

One question leads to another and another… Eren feels as though he is tugging on a locked box that’s poised on a shelf high above him. If he can just ease it off little by little, perhaps he can finally see what is inside.

Yelena stares at him, jaw tightening. Any earlier pleasantness she might have had has long since evaporated, curling up into the air like the smoke of the far away bonfire.

“Do the how and the why really matter?” she whispers. Somehow the quietness seems louder, like the stillness before a strike. “All that matters is that he saved me.”

“I don’t doubt that he saved you,” says Eren, keeping his form loose, arms resting by his side. He casts his eyes over at her- she’s adopted the same pose.

He puts together the pieces he knows. He would believe that she’s lying outright, but something about the way she described meeting Zeke reeked of sincerity. She’s lying about the circumstances, then. The conflict itself, or maybe just her role in it. And no one lies without a reason.

“You know, you never said,” he realises, “what country are you from?”

It’s quiet for a moment, the two of them staring at each other passively. The air hangs as still as their suspended forms.

“Eren,” she murmurs, “there are some questions that should not be asked.”

Her voice is different now. Less obliging, sharper, sinister. Somehow, it seems to carry weight. Between one blink and the next, Eren sees her again as he saw her first, on a Marleyan boat full of Zeke’s followers, face half-hidden behind the muzzle of her smoking pistol.

This moment feels oddly freed from time. It feels unfettered by the moors of reality. He sees Yelena look at him, and there’s something disillusioned about it. Like she’s gazing at a future version of him she thought he could be, and is realising he is not that. He wonders what Zeke had told her of him, glimpses of his character gleamed through Reiner’s accounts and their one meeting on a broken rooftop in Shiganshina. What could he have said- that Eren is impressionable? That he is more content to follow? He supposes those things are still true. He’s just… happier, now. He has more to lose, and more reason to be cautious.

His questions would have rid her of those delusions. She might still hope that he’s considering their euthanization plan, but he’s shown his hand a little. He’s shown that he bears allegiance to someone. That it matters who she is, because it would have mattered if she lied. If she lied to them.

And as she stares at him, he looks right back at her. He sees her past stretched out behind her, the gaping holes where there should be explanations. The spaces they leave behind form the shape of an answer. After all, one country colonised by Marley is much the same as another to him. If she was from a vassal state, she should have no reason to hide it. Really, there’s only one country she could claim origin from that would warrant this much secrecy.

For the first time, Yelena does not seem unknowable to him. For the first time, he thinks they see each other perfectly.

“So,” he demands, “are you from Marley?”

She takes in a breath. He can see her wavering, choosing how to respond. He knows she feels threatened- Eren has unlocked the box and peered inside and it unnerves her. Her greatest tools have been the knowledge she holds over them. Were that divide to close, what role would she play then?

Eren is enough of a soldier to know: the most vicious of opponents are those that are wounded.

“Please, Eren. Don’t insult me,” she scoffs, eventually. The sound is mocking. “You’re calling me by the name of my oppressor. Should I call you warrior?”

“Fuck you,” he snaps.

Logically, he knows his earlier deductive reasoning held some truth. Her being Marleyan is the most valid explanation for her behaviour. And- she didn’t answer his question, not really. But her deflection works. It catches him off guard.

The rage that wells in him is as welcome as it is familiar. And now that he feels it, he can see it on her face. She’s pissed. At his questions, at his guesses, at him not being the person she thought he was.

The tension in the air mounts, grows. He breathes it in, feeds it, lets it spills its way right out of his mouth: “Is that what you call Zeke?”

It snaps.

Her hand comes up suddenly, and she grasps the front of his shirt. He startles, not having expected her to actually touch him, and he wraps his hand around her wrist, trying to push her off. She’s surprisingly strong. Her lips curl down into a sneer, eyebrows raised. Her jaw clenches so fiercely that the muscles of her face jump out at him. She looks like a caricature- a potent blend of rage and insanity.

He thinks if fanaticism had a face, it would match hers.

“Your brother is a hero,” she spits, incensed, “how dare you?”

He tries to push harder at her arm, but it’s futile. He realises there’s no casual way of moving her aside. If he wants her off of him, he’s going to have to fight her, and that’ll be it, then. That’ll be the end of it all-

“You know, for someone who’s so invested in our alliance, you seem awfully close to breaking it.”

Eren closes his eyes for a moment, sighing in relief.

Behind them, Levi approaches slowly. He must have been late to the party as well, and what wonderful luck Eren has sometimes. Levi stops about a foot away, and stares Yelena down resolutely. He doesn’t say anything, but there’s a danger about the way he stands, the way he holds himself. Like he could wish Yelena dead, and in the next moment, she would be.

Yelena holds his eye for a second, then she takes a careful step away from Eren, lips settling into her polite smile. “I saw Eren walking alone, and thought we could have a friendly chat, that’s all.”

Levi’s eyes narrow. He tucks his hands inside his pockets in the same way a predator stretches its limbs before a hunt. “Well,” he drawls. “The next time I catch you alone with Eren, you and I will be having a friendly chat.”

Yelena’s smile doesn’t waver, but her shoulders lower in retreat. She nods once at Levi, then at Eren, before she walks away. They watch her leave, and Eren holds his breath until they lose sight of her blonde head beyond the corner of the road. Then he slumps in relief.

Levi takes quick steps to his side and settles a warm hand on the small of his back. “You alright?” he asks, eyes narrowed. “What did she want?”

“I’m fine.” Eren shakes his head, determined not to let her get a rise out of him. He smooths a hand down the front of his crumpled shirt. “She just had trouble answering some of my questions.”

Levi makes a tsk sound. He watches the road where Yelena walked off to warily. “Can’t say she didn’t have it coming,” he mutters. Then he turns to Eren, raising an eyebrow. “I saw that she grabbed you. You couldn’t push her off?”

Eren shakes his head. “Her hold was too tight. I would have had to twist and shove at her, and it would have started a fight. I couldn’t risk it.”

“Fuck the risks,” says Levi, lips thin in anger. “She’s the one starting it. The next time she does it, you knock her out. Then you come find me. Okay, Eren?”

Something warm curls in Eren’s chest. He likes Levi’s brand of protectiveness. There’s a different flavour to it than the kind Mikasa used to have, it doesn’t feel as oppressive. He can tell Levi trusts his capabilities- he just told Eren to knock Yelena out with full confidence that Eren could- but then he’d said come find me. Because with Levi, Eren wouldn’t have to fight alone.

The tree of his affections reaches further towards the sky.

“Yes, sir,” Eren murmurs. Now that the danger has passed, and he can breathe easier, he takes the time to look Levi over. He’s wearing a dark blue coat Eren hasn’t seen before. It’s long, the ends reach past his knees, and it makes him look taller somehow. His shoulders look broader. Eren notices, also, with a sweeping of his stomach, that Levi has styled his hair just the slightest bit, pushed it away from his eyes. It frames the angles of his face in a way that makes Eren feel abruptly breathless.

“You look nice,” he says, almost instinctively, like a fact one can’t help but point out: the sunset looks nice, the ocean looks pretty, Levi looks like something between sinful and heavenly.

Levi’s eyes flick up to meet his in surprise, before they do a slow trek down Eren’s frame. The palm Levi holds against his back burns through his shirt, and Eren feels a blush spread up his neck. “So do you,” he notes, voice low. Then he seems to realise something. “Why were you alone tonight, Eren?”

“Ah,” Eren says, scratching at the bank of his neck bashfully, “The others had dates. I told them I’d catch up with them.”

Levi raises a curious eyebrow. “And you didn’t have one?” His voice is low, intimate. “I’d find it hard to believe that no one asked you.”

“No, it’s not- I wouldn’t know about that, anyway.” Eren flushes. He knows that people have tried their luck with him, but really his awareness of it is partial at best, and they soon get the hint. He doesn’t know how anyone can be oblivious to how he feels about Levi. He feels flustered, unsure how to explain himself, “I wanted to ask, but I didn’t know if you’d say-”

He stops.

His eyes widen when he realises exactly what he’s just admitted. He sees realisation enter Levi’s face too, and then Eren forcefully looks away. He can feel heat staining his cheeks and knows he must be flushing an alarming shade of red. Why does he always do this around Levi? His foot always ends up in his mouth somehow. When Levi doesn’t say anything, Eren becomes desperate to change the subject. He clears his throat and says, “What about you, sir? Why didn’t you come with anyone?”

He’s still looking determinedly at the ground when he feels Levi’s hand reach out and brush his face. He gently grasps Eren’s chin, tilting it down to look at him. His eyes are undeniably warm.

“I came alone,” Levi murmurs, “because you didn’t ask me.”

The breath in Eren’s lungs seems to still.

He becomes conscious then, of how they’re standing. Levi’s hand has moved up his back, pressing them closer together. His other hand is still clutching Eren’s chin, and it moves now, to cup the side of his face. With every inhale, he can feel their chests press together. As if drawn by an invisible force, he moves in more, until he’s bent so close, their foreheads are almost touching, but he still can’t seem to stop pressing in.

This close to each other, the differences in space are measured more by touch than by sight. The flutter of eyelashes against cheeks, the breaths that they exhale against each other, the way the tips of their noses brush and slide together. He shudders when Levi licks his own lips and the edge of his tongue flicks against Eren’s mouth. His eyes are half-closed, and he can see Levi gaze back at him, pupils blown wide. So close, Eren thinks, almost- 

Then a cheer sounds from behind them, and startled, they jump apart.

It’s a group of soldiers who seem more than a little tipsy, and are likely late because they pre-gamed. They stagger past where Eren and Levi are frozen, seemingly unconscious of their presence, and stroll along as they try to avoid tripping into bushes.

Levi exhales harshly, running a hand down his face. They both seem a little out of breath, even though they didn’t actually kiss, and Eren feels a little lost, too. So close, he thinks again, we were almost there. He finds himself reaching out, irresistibly. He takes a step forward towards Levi, but his captain steps back, shaking his head regretfully.

“Not here,” Levi says, looking like it pains him just as much to say it. “Not here, Eren.”

Eren sighs in disappointment, running a hand over his hair as his heart clenches. He still feels too vulnerable. Levi must feel the same because he suddenly steps closer, reaching up to tuck flyaway strands of Eren’s hair behind his ear. Eren stares helplessly at his lips. Levi notices, stares back at Eren’s lips for a long moment, then he lets out a little growl of frustration and drops his forehead onto Eren’s collarbone. In shared dissatisfaction, Eren wraps an arm around Levi’s waist and holds him close.

“Come find me later,” Levi mutters into the cloth of his coat. “When we both have the time.”

Then he pushes off of Eren’s chest and starts walking back towards the party. For one brief, awful second, Eren thinks he might have imagined the whole thing. Then Levi looks back over his shoulder.

“Are you coming,” he asks, impatient, “or are you going to stand me up?”

Eren pauses, confused for a moment, before he gets it.

And helplessly, he laughs. The tension dissolves, like water added into honey- easier to stir, but still sweet. He jogs to catch up with Levi, hands in his pockets. Just in case he tries to steal a touch. When he looks over, Levi has his hands in his coat, too, a rueful smile on his face.

Almost.

Chapter Text

By the time they finally get to the party, it’s well under way.

There’s the tantalising smell of cooked meat in the air. The small clearing in the forest is lit with hanging lights, and by the large bonfire roaring in the centre. A ring of benches has been arranged around it, and people have collapsed in various states of merriment and drunkenness. Despite how many people there are, there’s a sense of intimacy to the space.

Eren sees Yelena across the clearing, surrounded by her retinue of guards (for the first time ever, Eren thinks reproachfully), only to find her already watching him. They lock eyes. She looks away first. Eren relaxes.

Sasha had been right, earlier, when she had said that there would be a queue for food if they were late. Together, he and Levi go to join it. Eren eyes the table, noting with displeasure that most of the meat has run out. Then, as if summoned by his thoughts, a group of servers plop a large dish on the table, bearing a whole roasted deer. The soldiers in the line cheer.

Levi snorts. “Idiots,” he mutters, but it’s a half-hearted insult at best.

Eren watches the firelight dance across Levi’s face. He could probably spend the night this way, just watching the way the angles of Levi’s face change with the flickering of the light. But it’s not to be.

Just after they’ve taken their fill of food, Hange comes over and kidnaps Levi, despite his protestations, to tell ‘old war stories’ to the new recruits. Eren smiles, watching the disgruntled look on his face. He follows them, but seating is sparse around the new members, and he doesn’t get the chance to find a spot next to Levi. He catches the other man’s eyes across the firepit, sees the faintly regretful tilt of his lips when he realises there’s no way Eren can join him, but Eren shakes his head to dismiss his worries. He’s a little sad that their date won’t pan out, but he also knows that on nights like this, so reminiscent of the old days before expeditions, that Hange must miss their friends. He wouldn’t begrudge them their oldest one.

Instead, he settles closer to the food table, where his friends have commandeered a corner. They’re all sprawled around, in various combinations of inebriated and sleepy. Sasha and Connie are collapsed on the grass, half on top of each other, definitely sloshed. Jean and Mikasa seem to be the most sober, sitting on one of the benches. His arm is slung around her shoulders as she speaks quietly to Armin on the next bench over.

Eren makes his way over to sit beside Armin, smacking the back of Jean’s head on the way. “Oi!” yells Jean. “You tryna pick a fight?”

“Is it a fight if you could never win?” Eren snarks back, lounging with both arms spread out on the back of the bench. “Or is it just a foregone conclusion?”

Jean jumps to his feet, settling into a fighting stance. “Alright, Yeager, that’s it. I’m still pissed at you and Armin for ganging up on me the last time.” He beckons at Eren with one hand. “So, let’s go.”

Eren grins, and sees that despite Jean’s best attempts at bluster, he’s biting back a grin, too. It’s been far too long since they last did this. It’s practically a tradition at this point. Is it really a send-off feast if Eren and Jean don’t fight?

Eren lurches to his feet, shrugging off his coat, and from their pile on the ground, Sasha and Connie cheer. “I’m betting on Eren!” Sasha calls.

“No fair!” yells Connie. “That means I have to bet on Jean.”

Jean pauses, turning to glare at them. “Hey!”

“Sorry, man,” Connie says, “but I’ve seen him train. His muscles have muscles.”

“Then I’m betting on Eren, too,” Armin says. Eren squints at him and realises with some glee that his friend is more than a little drunk. “Cause his marbles have marbles… no- what was it?”

“What, seriously? You dumbasses don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jean glares. He turns to Mikasa. “’Kasa, you’re on my side, right?”

She stares blankly back at him. “I will cry at your funeral.”

“What- hey!”

Eren laughs and doesn’t wait for Jean to get over his incredulity. He launches himself at him, getting a couple punches in before Jean manages to find his footing. To his credit, he does manage to land a few good hits on Eren, including a nasty uppercut that sends blood spewing out of Eren’s nose, but it really is a foregone conclusion. The fight is over far sooner than it used to be. Jean ends up face first on the dirt next to Sasha, hands pinned behind his back, as Eren sits solidly on top of him.

“Okay, okay, I yield!” Jean cries. Sasha and Armin cheer. Connie gives a long-suffering sigh. From where his face is squished into the ground, Jean flexes his jaw. “Ow, I think you bruised my chin.”

Mikasa sighs, getting up to go find a cool cloth. Eren scrubs one sleeve across his nose to wipe up the blood, then rolls off of Jean to splay on the grass as well. His face begins to steam, repairing itself, as Jean watches Mikasa walk away. It’s quiet for a moment or two, the both of them just catching their breaths. Then he says quietly, “Hey. Eren. About Mikasa… thanks. For asking her to give me a chance and- for before. I know you were just trying to look out for her.”

Eren’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “You don’t have to thank me for that. She chose you on her own,” Eren says. From the corner of his eye, he sees Jean swallow. He sighs and nudges the other man’s shoulder with his own. “And really Jean, despite everything… You’re alright.”

They stare at each other, slightly discomfited. Neither of them seems to know what to say. To his horror, Eren feels warmth creep across his face. Jean notices. “You bastard! Get a hold of yourself. Don’t you dare blush.” As Eren watches, red begins to creep up Jean’s face too. “Look what you’ve done! You’ve gone and made it awkward.”

“Me?” Eren cries indignantly. “You started this!”

Next to them, Sasha laughs, reaching over to thump Jean on the chest with her fist. “Jean, can’t you tell? It’s just the firelight. It’s making everyone’s cheeks red.”

Indeed, everyone’s cheeks are red, whether that’s because of the firelight or the alcohol, no one can say. Mikasa comes back with a damp cloth that she sets on Jean’s face. She picks up on the strange atmosphere and eyes them all warily. “What happened?”

“Eren and Jean professed their love for each other,” Connie replies drunkenly.

Mikasa blinks incredulously. Sasha laughs at the look on her face, then reaches out and yanks Mikasa onto the grass beside them. “I love you, Mikasa,” she says, hugging her tightly. Her words are slurred. She throws her other arm around Jean’s torso, pushes her foot against Connie’s and smiles over at Eren and Armin. “I love all of you guys.”

Mikasa frowns at her fondly but doesn’t move to get up. Armin shifts to lie down on the bench too, and they all end up as a slightly disjointed pile, staring up at the stars. Eren wonders what they’re picturing. There’s something about this moment that feels slightly out of place- like it could exist outside of the confines of their universe. Perhaps in another life, none of them are soldiers, and they’re merely a group of old friends on a camping trip. Perhaps they’ve travelled all over the world already, and merely come together to tell stories around the campfire. Yes, he thinks. Even in another universe, we’d be friends.

“Armin,” he calls softly, enamoured with his idea. “Tell us a story.”

Armin shuffles up from the bench into a sitting position, scrubbing a hand down his face. “A story? Which story?”

“We want drama,” Connie demands. “Let there be mystery!”

“And there should be food,” adds Sasha.

Softly, Mikasa says, “It should have a happy ending.”

It takes some time for Armin to think of a story, so Eren goes to fetch beers for everyone. When he comes back, Armin has sat up properly on the bench and is rubbing his hands together. “Okay, happy ending, drama and food. I’ve got one.” He smiles. “Here we go;

Once upon a time, when the beasts still spoke and people were silent, there lived a king: the first king of a mighty tribe that would one day grow to encompass every land, as far as the eye could see- but alas, this is not a tale of the king, not really- this is the story of a girl.  

This girl belonged to a village seven rivers and seven hills from here, and in his mighty conquest, the king had ransacked her village, enslaving only those he deemed appealing and killing the rest. The girl, too, was made a slave, and she knew that to survive, she had to win the king’s favour. 

But her options were limited. Like all slaves, her tongue had been cut and her arms branded. So she searched high and low for a different way to catch his eye, but one night, all would be lost.

You see, though the girl had suffered much, she was pure at heart. She saw some pigs in a kennel to be slaughtered in the morn, heard their pitiful cries, and could bear it no more- she freed them.

“She freed them?!” Sasha exclaims. “That’s such a waste!”

“Shh!”

Upon discovering this, the king was incensed. She was beaten and mangled and left for dead. When the sounds of cruelty finally turned to silence, she crawled and crawled for safety. And then she found it, a giant tree, the likes of which she had never seen. She nestled at it’s foot, but in her agony, she could not tell that this was no ordinary tree- or perhaps it was no tree at all, for it had no base. She fell down, down, down, into the abyss.

There, in the still darkness, she saw It. 

“It? What’s it?” 

What is It, you ask? She asked the same. 

To her question, It said: Perhaps I am God, or perhaps the Devil, or perhaps Time. I am the Beginning and the End, of all there is.

“Ooh, wicked,” grins Connie. 

The girl was hesitant at first, but the more she stared at It, the more she was convinced of It’s power. But if It was powerful, It could not also be her, could It? She was power-less.

Reading her heart, It asked: do you wish to be me?

She saw It floating in the abyss, indestructible, and so said: yes

And so the girl became God or perhaps the Devil or perhaps Time or perhaps the Beginning or perhaps the End. She was All, and she was One. As she exited the abyss, she found her wounds were healed, and more so- her tongue was whole again. 

She returned to the king’s court, where the king became so taken with the miracle of her re-appearance that she became his favourite, and with her newfound powers, they built great cities, conquered more land, and had many children. 

Many years passed. But not all evils are lost to time, and the girl had never forgotten what the king had once done to her. Nor could she ignore his wars of oppression and tyranny. For with her newfound powers, the king had pillaged, and robbed, and massacred, too. She was no mere tool, but a warrior and a mother, and she knew he had to be stopped.

She knew that any attempt to kill the king would be futile- so great was his grasp on his people. Instead, she resolved to deprive him of his greatest tool. When an assassin’s spear flew to his heart, she stepped before it. Sacrificing her life, her powers, and ending the king’s reign of terror.

But all men of greed are the same- they cannot bear to part with what they consider to be theirs. He wished for the powers of her flesh, and to take them, he ordered her mangled corpse cooked into a feast.

“What!” yells Jean, face twisting in disgust. “This story is gross.”

And yet it proved for naught. For though the king wished to possess her flesh, he was not of her blood, and her powers proved too much for him. He stumbled from the feast, and died in the stairwell.

However, the girl’s children, princes and princesses in their own right, ate from their father’s table with no one the wiser. And the next morning, the powers beneath their skin rose with the sun. 

So it is as the creature in the tree had said: it was All and it was One. It’s powers lived on in their children, and their children’s children, who continued to build great marvels and brought miracles to their people. 

And though the king’s end was met in a stairwell, it is said the girl lives on, as long as her power endures: for neither God nor the Devil nor Time, ever truly dies.

“And though their people lived well,” Armin raises his glass, and the others follow suit, “we live better.”

They cheer, toasting to him. There’s applause for Armin’s story, and he attempts a bow drunkenly, only to catch himself on the bench before he falls over.

“I can’t believe they didn’t eat the pigs,” Sasha laments, arms crossed in disappointment.

“I mean,” interjects Connie. “They ate her, though?”

Jean shoves at him. “People aren’t food, you moron-”

“They are for titans! You didn’t specify food for whom-”

The others begin to squabble amongst themselves, but Eren’s still stuck on something.

“Armin,” he calls, confused. “You never said what her powers were.”

His friend turns to him, and Eren can see that his cheeks are flushed with alcohol. How his friend managed to tell such a long tale despite being so inebriated, Eren will never know.  “Eren.” Armin giggles. “Weren’t you listening? She’s God or the Devil or Time. She’s all and she’s one.”

Armin swerves closer and reaches out to bop Eren on the nose with the tip of his finger. “Therefore, she’s also you.”

Ah, Eren realises, that had been the story of Ymir Fritz.

He wants to ask more, to discuss which parts of the story were fiction and which were real. But before he can, he hears someone shout. He’s about to turn to look when he feels it- the first little soft taps of rain.

It’s chaos after that, with everyone rushing to pack up the food and the lights. Soldiers are rushing to leave the clearing, grabbing whatever they can as others begin to frantically shovel food in their mouths. Eren eyes his drunk friends, all too inebriated to be left to their own devices, and sighs.

He’s going to have a long night ahead of him.

By the time he has the last person settled, the storm is raging fiercely outside.

On the bed across from him, Connie’s snores are nearly drowned out by the incessant patter of rain against the window. Lightning flashes intermittently, casting their room in sharp relief. Unlike Connie, Eren doesn’t have the haze of drunkenness to lure him into sleep. He lies awake, tapping his fingers against his stomach restlessly.

There’s an itch beneath his skin that can’t be quelled. His mind swims with a plethora of snippets from the day's conversations, like loose pieces of thread that you can’t help tugging on, desperate to see it all unravel.

He finds himself ruminating on Armin’s story. The powers that ‘It’ had given Ymir- are they the same powers that Eren has now? He remembers what Armin had said in the story. Ymir had built cities, uplifted her people, and brought progress to her nation. Could Eren do those same things now? He looks down at his hands, remembers the weight of the stone bricks he had hauled to build Fort Erwin’s walls. It’s not just the rumbling that he’s useful for.

He dares, for the first time, to imagine a future where they win. He tries to picture it: whole settlements outside the Walls, markets full of goods from foreign nations, children that don’t have to go hungry. He imagines a military that has retired their ODM gear, is mostly a defensive force, because it’s peacetime now. He imagines never having to attend a mass funeral ever again.

And, like he always ends up doing, he thinks of Levi. He dares to picture, for the first time, his own future. Maybe one of those settlements outside the Walls is near the ocean. Maybe… Eren builds a house there.

Maybe he doesn’t live there alone.

The fingers on his stomach still, and curl into a fist. They had been so close in the forest tonight, so close to kissing. So close to answering the questions Eren’s been asking himself for weeks now: what are they? Are they partners? Are they courting? They’re definitely not ‘just friends’, but they’re certainly not lovers either.

He closes his eyes, frustrated. He wishes that Levi would say more, make his intentions clearer. Eren feels that he couldn’t possibly be more obvious, that his feelings for Levi must be written in bold strokes across his face for everyone to see. Surely, they’re not stalling because Levi wonders how Eren feels?

But then, he remembers what Levi had said: I came alone, because you didn’t ask me. And after, come find me, when we both have the time.

Eren blinks, staring up at the ceiling of his dorm room. What the fuck is he still doing here?

They’re leaving on a boat tomorrow, to cross the literal ocean to a land none of them have ever seen. Abruptly, the idea of leaving their relationship unresolved on the journey there bothers him beyond measure.

What if something happens? What if he never gets to tell Levi-

He kicks the covers off his bed.

Connie’s out like a log beside him, and he doesn’t startle as Eren tugs on his raincoat and slips out the door. He tries to walk calmly on the trek to Levi’s room, but before he knows it, he’s running. He stutters to a stop, boots skidding, in front of his door.

He can’t believe that he’s going to do this. But at the same time, he feels like something needs to happen before they leave. He doesn’t want to spend any more time waiting. He can’t. He knows that if he doesn’t say something now, it will burst out of him regardless, and if he’s going to end up saying it then he wants it to be in private, at least.

Eren braces himself, then knocks on Levi’s door.

It takes a moment, which he spends anxiously fiddling with his fingers, and then Levi opens the door. “Eren?” He asks, surprised. He’s taken off the pretty coat he had on earlier. It’s just him in a buttoned-up white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Eren sees the edge of a raised scar peeking out from under a sleeve. He wants, he wants, he wants.

“You said-” stutters Eren, “you said to come find you when we both had a moment free. I don’t know if you’re free now but… I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

Levi’s eyes are fixed on his. They’re both remembering the walk in the forest earlier, he knows, their almost kiss. Levi wordlessly pulls the door open and lets Eren in.

Eren takes in Levi’s room. It’s neat (obviously), and much larger than the average soldier’s dorm room. There’s a small table with two chairs next to a tiny kitchenette with a sink. There’s also a small fireplace near the bed, with a hook hanging off the top for a kettle. It’s a little dim, especially with the torrid rain blocking out the moonlight, but it’s warm. It’s nice. Perfect military precision is present everywhere, but it looks homey. Lived in.

Levi leads Eren to a chair. Eren sits and begins fiddling anxiously with his fingers again. Levi must notice because he brushes his fingers through Eren’s hair as he passes. “Tea?” he asks, but he’s already moving to put the kettle over the fire. Eren thanks him anyway. It’s silent for a few minutes as Levi busies himself with the tea and Eren busies himself with collecting his thoughts. Eventually, Levi sets a mug down in front of him and slumps into the seat across the table.

He doesn’t say anything, giving Eren the space to speak first. Eren is both grateful and terrified, but he takes the plunge. “I think we both know what I’m here for.”

Levi is still silent, staring at Eren with quiet intensity. Eren’s right of course, they both know why he’s here, there’s no denying it. But he supposes it’s one thing to bask in harmless flirtation, to exchange shy smiles in the sunlight and quiet looks in the dark, and a whole other thing to try to put a name to the sweet joy that grows between them. This is the precipice, they know. There’s no going back from this or playing it off. They’ve already written the prologue to this book, but this is a fresh page of the newest chapter: once they mark it with ink, there is no pretending it was bare.

Eren doubts he ever could, anyway. Loving Levi has changed him in the best of ways.

“Okay,” Eren says. He licks his lips, exhaling heavily. His sentence is punctuated in pauses, like the stuttering beats of his heart. “This is the truth of it: I have adored everything about you for so long that I don’t know how to stop.”

Levi’s eyes widen slightly. “Eren,” he says. It’s not a protest, or an agreement. Just a hushed exclamation that escapes him in the dark.

Eren’s voice is barely above a murmur. “I can’t tell you the exact shape of my affection because I don’t know where it ends. I can’t think of a single thing about you that I don’t cherish. You take up every free thought I have,” he says, helplessly. “I think about all the pain I went through in my life, all the confusion and dysphoria, and sometimes I wonder if it would have been easier to never have been born at all. But then… then I see you smile. And I remember that there is still good in this world.”

There’s this look on Levi’s face. Like he can’t tear his eyes away from Eren. Eren recognises the unbearable fondness lining Levi’s features, and it gives him the courage to continue, “You make everything easier. Everything’s quieter when you’re around. I find myself in awe over the simplest, stupidest things, just because I saw them in your presence.” Eren’s voice is stuttering, he feels a little choked up. He’s never felt this raw, and honest, and exposed. “I don’t know how to go on without being by your side. If all I did with the rest of my years was spend them with you, making you laugh… I think that would be a life worth fighting for.”

Levi’s hands reach across the table for Eren’s, and he holds them in his. He stares at their interlaced fingers and then at Eren from under his stupidly thick, black lashes. Eren says helplessly, “You’re so gorgeous,” and Levi lets out a startled laugh, pressing a kiss against the tips of his fingers.

His laugh softens into a smile, sweet in its sincerity. “I never laughed this much, before you,” Levi admits quietly. Eren’s transfixed. “You have to know what you mean to me, Eren. When I met you, before I had any feelings for you, you were hope in its purest form to me. I placed all my dreams for the future on you, sacrificed everything on my faith in you, and all you did was impress me.” He breathes a laugh, more at himself than at Eren. “When you grew up and we became friends, what chance did I have?”

Eren presses their foreheads together, interlaced palms against the sides of their faces. Their noses brush and it’s so unbearably intimate, but any distance now feels like an intrusion. Emptiness is not welcome into this new space between them.

“I’ve spent all my life caged behind different walls. It wasn’t until I came to know you that I realised that even in the darkest of prisons, there are still things that bring light.” Levi’s voice is a murmur. “A life worth fighting for, huh? You’re the only thing that’s made life worth living to me.”

Their lips brush, closer to a kiss than they’ve ever yet been and Eren is an ocean of affection and longing. His lips trace Levi’s in tiny, almost kisses as he speaks. “Will you have me?” he asks.

“Sweetheart,” Levi says, and Eren can’t- his heart implodes in on itself. It’s over for him, there’s no going back from this. Levi smiles against his lips like he can tell he’s killing Eren in the most exquisite of ways. “If you think I’m ever letting you go, you got another thing coming.” He presses his lips in a firm kiss against Eren’s. It’s a petty balm to the rolling storm of want inside him. When Levi pulls away, he says; “Stay awhile. Stay with me.”

Eren doesn’t know if he means tonight or forever, but he figures it doesn’t matter either way. He’ll stay until Levi tells him to go, so he says; “Yeah. Yes. I want to stay.”

They kiss there awhile, over the table, as the storm rages outside and the forgotten cups of tea clink against their chests as they press closer. Eventually, Eren learns that it’s a step, two steps, three, to the bed, silent over the clap of thunder and the rain hitting the window. Levi pushes Eren down onto the quilt covered mattress and hovers over him. There’re lips trailing over cheeks, over chins, down necks. His fingers are practised and sure as they unbutton his white shirt. Eren thinks it’s only fair play to do the same. He sucks in a breath at the sight of the myriad scars that crisscross over the captain’s chest.

Levi sits back on Eren’s lap. “Not a pretty sight, I know,” he says dryly.

“Are you kidding?” Eren says, breathless in awe and desire. “I feel so self-conscious.”

Levi frowns at him, genuinely concerned. “Why? You look like a dream.” He trails his hands down Eren’s bare, unblemished chest.

“Yeah, but… you look like my dreams.”

Levi gets this look on his face that Eren’s come to recognise as him crossing the limits of the affection he can hold back, and he slams Eren back onto the mattress. They’re lost again in the wonder of physically expressing all they’ve been feeling. Eren slides his fingers across the raised flesh on Levi’s torso, tracing the contours of every battle he’s lived through. He wasn’t lying earlier. He wishes he could show Levi all the victories he’s won, too. But more than the jealousy is the desire that sweeps through him. He’s so strong, Eren thinks, pressing down on the scars to the layer of muscle underneath.

Eren basks in this moment, in all he feels beneath his hands and against his skin. It’s nothing at all like what he experienced with Kyle. That momentary attraction seems so paltry compared to the gravity of his feelings now. Everything feels simultaneously like too much and not enough, years of pent-up pining exorcised with every touch. The conversation they had earlier has suffused the space between them, meagre as it is, with trust. Eren feels worshipful, and worshipped in equal measure, buoyed by the praises Levi presses into his skin: perfect, gorgeous, why did we wait this long?

It isn’t until Levi’s hands drift to the waistband of his slacks that Eren surfaces from the fervour. “Wait,” he gasps.

Levi stops instantly, pulling away from him to see his face. He brushes Eren’s hair back tenderly. “What is it? You okay?”

Eren presses a kiss to the wrist beside his face. “Yeah, I’m fine. I want this. I just, uh.” Eren isn’t stupid enough to think that any of this really matters, but… it seems like the respectful thing to do, to let Levi know. “I’ve never… done this before.”

Levi blinks. “I thought you said you and that asshole-”

“Kyle.”

“That asshole-” Levi repeats firmly “-hooked up?”

Eren licks his lips nervously. Levi’s eyes track the movement before he snaps out of it. Eren says, “Yes, well when I said we ‘hooked up’, I meant we made out and never ventured below the waist. Thankfully? Thankfully. I guess.”

Levi exhales heavily, rolling his eyes. “What an idiot. He had all this-” he scratches his nails down Eren’s chest, “-underneath him and he didn’t even know how to treat you right, did he, Eren?”

Eren is in heaven. “You gonna treat me right?” he asks cheekily.

Levi pinches his ear, rolling his eyes at Eren’s attitude. “Aren’t I already? But if you mean ‘treat you right’ as in have sex with you, then… that’s up to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm saying, we don’t have to have sex tonight,” Levi clarifies. “We can work up to it a little.”

“But,” Eren begins, despondently. Levi can’t mean for them to end the night here? A little, insecure part of his heart trembles. “Don't you want to?”

Levi sits up a little, away from Eren, to look him in the eyes. He looks less put together than Eren has ever seen him, hair a mess and a fresh hickey colouring the surface of his neck. But his face is serious. “Of course I do. But Eren, while sex can be casual, that’s probably not how it’s going to be between us. Don’t you… feel like this is a little much already? Feels that way for me.” Levi sighs, tonguing at the inside of his cheek. “I need for us to be a safe space. I don’t want this to be… something that you’ll regret.”

Eren looks away, brow furrowing. It is a little overwhelming. But while it is a lot, it also somehow feels like not enough. Maybe Eren is placing too much emphasis on the physical, he doesn’t know. They’ve spoken all these words, but Eren wants to feel it on his transient body, where his mind will keep the memory of its touch. He’s still craving more, unsettled, and wanting. He needs to be closer.

He wants to put into words how sure he is, but it’s not easy. He casts his eyes about the room, trying to look for ideas in the objects Levi’s accumulated over the years, but it’s an exercise in futility. Levi is such a neat freak that there’s nothing to gain inspiration from. It’s just them, a bare room, and the rain outside. The rain. Eren’s eyes flick to the window. Yes. That’s exactly right.

He cups Levi’s face in his hands. “Sometimes… I feel like there’s a sky inside my chest,” he murmurs, voice hushed under the immensity of what he feels. “Most days, it's storming, like when I'm scared or angry or anxious. But when I'm with you, I think to myself- There's the sun.”

There’s something about the way Levi looks at him then, caught off guard, half-dressed and flushed. Eren wishes he could keep a mental image of it forever. Through barely parted lips, Levi whispers, “Eren…”

But he’s not finished. “Don't question me, please, sir. I'm not taking this lightly. If I wasn't okay with this, I'd tell you that it was storming. But right now, it’s- it’s sunny.” He brushes his thumb, with an aching gentleness, across the planes of Levi’s face. “Stopping here isn’t what I want. If you want, too, then I want you, I want more. Please, sir.”

And Levi- Eren sees the way the words affect him. His expression focuses, his eyes darken instantaneously in desire. He presses a harsh kiss to Eren’s lips and Eren melts into it, sighing pathetically when Levi moves away. He raises an eyebrow down at Eren. “You’re gonna be a menace, aren’t you?” Levi sighs, but there’s a surety in his eyes, like he’s exactly where he wants to be. “At least you’re pretty when you beg.”

Eren blushes. “Sir, I- I still need-” He doesn’t know how to articulate it.

Levi hushes him softly, pressing his thumb to Eren’s lips. “I know, it’s okay. I’ll take care of you.” Eren lets his thumb into his mouth, sucking a little. Levi’s breath escapes him in an exhale. “You cheeky brat.” He laughs, biting into the side of Eren’s neck.

Barriers settled, they lose themselves in each other again, reexploring the same territory from earlier with surer fingers and rekindled heat. Eren finds he likes a little pain with his pleasure, moaning softly when his hair is pulled, and his neck is bitten. He also likes the constant praise that Levi presses into his skin between kisses. It’s a heady blend that sends Eren spiralling a little.

It's not flawless, this first tumble of theirs- it’s eager and needy and littered with tiny mistakes, the least of which is when Eren slips, shaky with all his intangible emotions, trying to push Levi onto the mattress. He ends up slamming their foreheads together, gasps; “Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry- are you- are you okay?” Levi, breathless with laughter: “you’re fine, it’s fine, Eren- don’t pout. Come here.” Eren goes, has the pout kissed right off his face.

No, it’s not flawless, but it’s theirs. The culmination of a year’s worth of tender affections, but it doesn’t feel like the end- merely another moment in an ongoing, evolving story. The very best kind. Eren wants to remember every bit of tonight.

Eventually, Levi’s hand moves from where it was fisted in Eren’s hair to fiddle with the front of his pants. He pauses with his fingers in Eren’s waistband, breathless but serious as he asks, “What’s the weather like?”

It takes Eren a moment to get what Levi’s asking, but then he remembers his own words: if I wasn’t okay, I’d tell you it was storming. He bites a smile against the surge of fondness that fills his chest.

The rain is pounding down outside, a true storm if there ever was one, rattling the windows. It should be freezing, but in this room and bed, Eren is warm down to his bones. “It’s sunny,” he grins, breathless. “It’s fucking summer in here.”

Levi laughs helplessly, the smile it creates crinkling the corners of his eyes. They’re pressed so close together that he can feel the roll of Levi’s hard chest against his when he laughs. Eren doesn’t know if people are meant to laugh and smile so much when they’re together in bed, but he hopes they are. This is lovely, everyone should love like this. Levi’s still smiling when they kiss again, open mouthed and messy, as they push off their trousers.

It’s surprisingly not awkward at all when Levi settles back onto him again, pressed together in new ways without the barrier of clothing between them. Eren’s no stranger to nakedness; he was a doctor’s son then a soldier, but there’s something special about being bare when it’s so intimate and intentional. Every new inch of skin revealed is a piece of kindling offered to the lust that rages underneath his skin.

Levi touches him in places no one else ever has before. It’s almost excruciating to look at each other like this, it's so unbearably tender. He feels clawed open and embraced, all at once. It’s being known in a way he never knew he could be and he trembles with it, trembles at the wonder and desire in Levi’s eyes.

He feels torn apart and made new, born again in a world where he knows he is wanted.

It’s bliss.

When it’s over, Eren Yeager and all his remade parts catch their breath. He’s sprawled on top of Levi, a sticky mess between them that the captain is sure to kick a fuss about later. But for now, he’s panting beneath Eren, one hand resting on his ass while the other lazily cards through his hair. Eren shifts so he’s only halfway crushing him.

Levi presses a kiss to his forehead. “Good?”

Eren hums, burrowing flushed cheeks into his collarbone. “So good.” He tangles his legs in with Levi’s and the other man huffs fondly against the top of his head, resuming his lazy petting. Eren looks up at Levi, a touch of insecurity plagues him, “Was it good for you, too?”

Levi smiles down at him with a level of warmth Eren’s never been privy to before. His touches become softer, and he pulls Eren closer with an arm around his back. “Yeah, it was good for me. I’ve never really… done that with a lover before.”

Eren’s hums, unsurprised but pleased that Levi is open with labels. Eren doesn’t want to have what they mean to each other be undefined. He refocuses on the conversation. “You’ve only done it casually?”

“Not exactly. I’ve been with people that I’ve cared about, but it was never… mutual like this.”

Eren hears the discomfort in his voice. He isn’t really sure what Levi means, but it doesn’t sound very fun. He presses a kiss to Levi’s chest. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

Levi brushes his hair back from his forehead so he can frown down at him. “Don’t be. I’m not telling you this as some sob story or to make you jealous.” He looks a little frustrated with himself, like he’s not sure how to word whatever he’s thinking. He kisses the top of Eren’s head. “I’m telling you this because I want you to know that this is different for me. Us. It’s special.”

Eren smiles triumphantly, like a little shit. He’s glad Levi told him, and he understands why he mentioned what he did, but Eren’s always been competitive and a little possessive. He likes that he’s different to Levi, that he’s wanted just as much. Levi must see his expression because he flicks the tip of Eren’s ear in exasperation. Eren doesn’t care. He likes a little pain with his pleasure, he can handle a little punishment with his victories. He smooths his hand down Levi’s perfect chest. Winning never felt so good.

Eren smiles up at him, biting back the words he wants to say. Though he’s felt it for a while now, he’s unsure if Levi is ready to hear it out loud or to say them back. Eren’s fine with it, he can wait. He can fill the space between them with it in just actions alone.

So he goes to fetch a bowl of water and clean towels to wipe up with when Levi complains of the mess, helps him set up the bath and change the sheets. Sinks into the warm water with him to gently wash his hair. Curls around him in the clean bed to lay his head on his chest and spend the night in a long-awaited embrace. It’s a thesaurus’s worth of synonyms offered into the space between them wordlessly, echoing in every action he completes:

This is love, love, love.

Chapter Text

The wind tastes like salt.

It beats against his face, against the irrepressible grin Eren has stretched his mouth into. All that he can see for miles around is just the startling blue of the ocean, and the equally cheerful blue of the sky. He’s standing on the bridge of the ship, arms crossed over the railing, as he stares into the horizon.

They’d left for Marley this morning, on Kiyomi’s boat. Onyankopon, who they hadn’t managed to shake as a guide (despite their best efforts), accompanies them. The sun had barely started to rise before they’d set out. They were sent off with an admittedly pitiful crowd, most of the soldiers still too hungover for any real revelry. The Survey Corps members embarking on the trip are no better, and some of them have collapsed into their assigned dorms to sleep through the first part of the voyage.

Though Eren himself got very little sleep last night, he’s in a much better mood.

It’s fifty-fifty odds that the smile on his face is from the sight of the ocean or from the memories of last night that keep filtering into his head. He’d woken up in Levi’s bed and had spent some time with his eyes shut, desperately hoping it hadn’t all been a dream. Levi had already been awake and out of bed by the time Eren had opened his eyes, and the older man had merely given him a smack on the ass and shoved him out the door. They haven’t been alone since then. Levi is now in the galley of the ship with Hange and Onyankopon, but Eren isn't inclined to join them just yet. He wants some time alone to think it all over, anyway.

To his surprise, he feels a lot less vulnerable than he thought he would. There was something about the way Levi had held him last night, the way he had spoken of his feelings and the way he had smiled at Eren this morning, helplessly, blissfully, and said that he’d liked the sight of Eren in his bed. So no, he doesn’t feel vulnerable.

Instead, he feels older somehow, like there’s a surety to the world. He knows that if he were to walk over to Levi right now and interrupt him mid-conversation, he would still tug Eren into the seat beside him. He would scoff maybe, make a snide comment about attention-seeking brats, but he’d still be happy to see him. Eren feels certain of his place, of where he is welcome.

He’s in a relationship with Levi. He’s in a relationship with Levi.

Eren tries, and fails, to contain the grin that bursts out of him. He buries his face in his hands instead.

That’s how Mikasa finds him, however many minutes or hours later, as she comes to lean on the railing beside him. She gently touches Eren’s hands, where they cover his face. “Are you seasick? We used up all the tonic on Sasha.”

Eren focuses, and sure enough, he can hear the tell-tale sounds of vomiting and yelling. Distantly, he hears Jean say, “What did I tell you? Didn’t I tell you not to drink so much last night?”

Almost drowned out by the crashing of the waves, Sasha says pitifully, “Sasha is sorry, Papa.”

“What- hey!”

Eren snorts, letting his hands fall from his face. He twists his neck around to see the others crowded around Sasha’s hunched over frame. “Poor fish,” Eren mutters as she throws up again, straight into the ocean. “No, I’m not seasick. Just… thinking.” Even now, he can’t quite quell his grin.

Mikasa raises an eyebrow at Eren. “Something to tell?”

“No.” Eren blushes. “Yes. Maybe.”

She hums knowingly. “You know, Connie says that you didn’t sleep in your room last night.”

Eren’s smile slips into a glare as he half-heartedly grumbles, “Connie is such a snitch.”

But truthfully, Eren isn’t so mad. He and Levi had spoken of this last night, after they’d cleaned themselves up and wrapped themselves around each other. Eren doesn’t know if their friends suspect anything, but neither of them see any point in hiding their relationship. The Survey Corps had lost members so frequently that it was understood that soldiers would find comfort wherever they could, so there isn’t anything in the rule books against fraternisation. Besides, Eren is admittedly terrible at keeping secrets, and Levi is equally terrible at feeling any sort of embarrassment.

And they had both quietly agreed, as Eren had run his fingers over Levi’s many scars, that life was far too short to waste time hiding the very best parts of it.

So he steals his breath, summons his bravery, and turns to face her. “No, I didn’t spend the night in my room,” he says, shoulders proudly set. “I spent it with Levi.”

Mikasa's face softens into a smile as she nudges him with her elbow. “I had a feeling it was something like that,” she teases. Then she pauses, frowning. “Though I suppose that means Armin won the bet, then.”

Eren blinks, proud shoulders slumping in surprise. “There was a bet?”

“You didn’t know?” Mikasa blinks back at him, like she’s surprised that Eren really is that oblivious. Then she sighs, fondly unimpressed. “Of course you didn’t. Everyone was in on it. Hange has been trying to set you guys up since you went through that whole ignoring Levi phase.”

“What?” Eren gapes. He vaguely remembers, almost a year ago now, Hange threatening to dissect him for missing duties on a stupid excuse Levi had written for Eren and- Ah. There had been no stupid excuse. Hange had been trying to get him to confront Levi, apparently because there had been a bet. “I don’t think Levi even had feelings for me back then,” Eren admits, bewildered. “What the fuck, Hange-san?”

As if summoned by their name, Hange wanders over, the others who were grouped on the deck in tow. “We had to put Sasha in the medical room. Eren, please tell me you’re not hanging out here cause you’re seasick-” they pause, noting the look on his face, “-why are you looking at me like that?”

Eren’s glare intensifies. “Because apparently you're the kind of commander who bets on their subordinates.”

The others gasp. “Mikasa, you told him?” demands Jean.

“Wait, wait, wait,” says Connie, waving his hands in the air. There’s a smile threatening to bloom on his face. “Does that mean-”

“Yes, fine,” snaps Eren, arms crossed. “Armin won, okay, congratulations.”

There’s cheers, then, and good natured ribbing. Eren gets several elbows jabbed into his ribs, and several arms slung over his shoulders, and lots of pats on the back. In the face of this much genuine joy, there’s only so long he could hold onto his stubborn frown before he succumbs to the atmosphere. “Alright, alright,” he laughs, “that’s enough, you lousy busybodies.”

Connie pretends to tear up. “You’re even starting to sound alike.”

“Oi!” snaps Eren, as the others laugh. He feels like something is missing and looks around.  “Wait, where is Levi?”

Hange smiles. “Still with Onyankopon downstairs. They’re getting Sasha settled into medical.” They pause to mess with his hair, expression fond. “Ah, this is the first piece of good news I’ve heard since you told me about Yelena’s confession.”

Eren’s smile fades. The joyful atmosphere they’ve been enjoying dims a little. He hasn’t forgotten the political crisis they left behind on the Island, and the reminder of the looming tension sours his mood. He hasn’t forgotten either, his conversation with Yelena the night of the bonfire, the things he’s discovered. 

He sighs. “She approached me again, right before the bonfire. Levi scared her off, but I got her talking a little. I think… I think she’s Marleyan.”

“What?” gasps Connie, slumping back against the railing of the boat.

“That doesn’t make any sense though, Eren,” says Mikasa, brows furrowed. “She came here to help us.”

Armin shakes his head. “Mikasa’s right. If she really is Marleyan, she would have been helping us defeat her own nation this entire time."

Eren understands their doubts, and so he tells them everything- Yelena’s story of the war, the contradictions he’d noticed, the questions he’d asked and her lacklustre responses. The others absorb this with wide eyes and troubled frowns. 

Jean crosses his arms. “That makes her a liar twice over, then. Who knows how many other things she’s lied about?”

“Shit,” says Hange, scrubbing a hand down their face. “Well. I suppose it’s a good thing we plan to sever the alliance, anyway. Hopefully she thinks long and hard about this in prison.”

Eren blinks. Prison? He looks around at the others, but everyone else seems equally as confused. “What do you mean, Hange-san?”

Hange shuffles, looks at them through their glasses. In that movement, Eren watches their demeanour change. Where previously they were jovial, making bets about their best friend’s relationship, now they are tense. The heavy weight of command braces against the muscles of their shoulders. “I couldn’t tell you all until we got on the boat. The information was too sensitive,” sighs Hange. “While we’re in Marley with Hizuru, the rest of the military will arrest Yelena and the Volunteers. They’ll remain in prison until we no longer have use for them.”

Something about this makes Eren’s chest clench. Hange sounds cold, calculating- unfeeling. “This was the plan all along? To throw them in jail?”

Hange shrugs. “Our alliance with Hizuru is now as secure as it’s ever going to be.”

It’s the truth- the ambassadors who had come to brief them had at first been distant with them, thrown off by their ‘uncivilised manners’ and ‘unpalatable cuisine’. But money speaks its own language, and Paradis is ripe with employment opportunities, fueled by its sweeping wave of industrialisation and its need for skilled workers. They are sailing back with only half the ambassadors Kiyomi had first brought.

“I told you that the Garrison was going to freeze them out at our last meeting. What do you think I meant by that? That they’d be allowed to waltz back to where they came from?” asks Hange, shaking their head. “They know too many of our secrets for that.”

“So… what?” begins Connie, eyes wide, “we just… keep them in jail for as long as we want? And kill them after, when they can't fight back?” He swallows, hesitates, then pushes the question out. “What’s the difference between that and murder?”

Hange eyes the rest of the group, and Eren wonders what they see. He knows everyone feels hesitant about this. The 104th had signed up for titan combat. It had taken them some time to get used to killing human opponents in a battlefield, but this? Executing prisoners of war? It scrapes at their consciences. 

Hange sighs. “Connie. We’re at war. We’ve been making inhuman choices before we even knew there was a world outside the Walls.” Eren swallows. That’s true, too. The commander continues, “The prisoners that wouldn’t conform, that wouldn’t just join the kitchens the way Nicolo did. What do you think happened to them?”

There’s a moment of terrible silence. Eren has a sinking feeling in his gut. Admittedly, he hadn’t been thinking about those prisoners, brought in from their various skirmishes with Marley. Some of them, like Niccolo, had eventually agreed to settle on the island in military occupied bases. Low risk to the general populace, but still with some degree of autonomy, some measure of freedom. He had, perhaps naively, assumed that every prisoner would come around eventually, that it was only a matter of time.

But time is a luxury, in war. It’s not something the Island can yet afford. They’re far too inexperienced in this, Eren realises. They’ve just barely managed to hobble together some semblance of diplomacy, what could they possibly know of warcraft?

Quietly, Jean asks, “Did you execute them?”

Hange looks away. “We didn’t have a choice. Given that Yelena had an informant even in our ranks, the Marleyans were too much of a security risk. We had reason to assume that she had already convinced some of them to work for her. We had originally planned to place them in restaurants in the barracks, but…” they shrug, “I know the kinds of talks the brass have over dinner. It would be the perfect place for Yelena to plant a spy. We couldn’t take that chance.”

“That’s why Niccolo was moved from the restaurant to the stables,” says Mikasa, eyes wide in realisation. “Sasha was complaining about how the food is so much worse now.”

A cynical smile makes its way onto Hange’s face. “Yes, well… such are the sacrifices we have to make in war, both big and small.” Their eyes flicker to Jean, noting how his jaw is clenched tight. "If it makes you feel any better, Jean… it was over quickly. They didn't suffer."

Eren doesn't think it makes anyone feel any better. 

Distrust. That’s what this is. It’s hard to imagine that just six months ago, the Volunteers were their closest allies. These settled Marleyan soldiers were the greatest testament to their diplomatic efforts. And now… they are reduced to belligerents, gearing up for combat.

So it begins, thinks Eren, feeling faintly nauseated. Perhaps it’s a naive thought. They’ve already fought several skirmishes with Marley, already taken lives. But something about this feels different. This weighing of odds, these outcome-based considerations. As though life is a series of values upon which a greater sum can always be discerned. It is, he realises, what war boils down to- brutal calculus.

If he really thinks about it, he’d be forced to admit that the decision to take Wall Maria probably sounded something like this, too: us or them.

Softly, Armin murmurs, “A person who cannot sacrifice anything cannot change anything.” He’s looking at Hange with a calculating gaze. “To defeat a monster, one must discard their own humanity.”

Hange smiles, sad. “And you wondered why I would have made you my successor.”

Connie shakes his head, lips pursed in thought. “If it’s so much of a risk, why don’t you just kill Yelena and the Volunteers? Why bother imprisoning them?”

Their commander leans back against the railing. “Right now, we have the upper hand. Yelena has no idea that we plan to capture her, and she won’t run away without Eren, who’s in a completely different nation. We have her cornered. We can demand anything we want.” They push up their glasses. “We’ll demand that they call Zeke to the Island.”

“So we can capture him,” surmises Armin. He looks troubled. “But that means…”

“Historia would have to eat him, yes.”

Eren looks away, stomach roiling. He had hoped that Historia’s position as monarch would have spared her, but again- war is a list of pros and cons, isn’t it? 

Hange continues, affirming his point, “We can’t give up an opportunity to acquire another Titan Power. And besides, having a titan of royal blood, well- that would make initiating the rumbling a little easier, don’t you think?”

What. Eren jerks up, incredulous. “The rumbling? Since when is that something we’re seriously considering?”

“We might never use it,” reassures Hange, clasping his arm, “But we’re not in a position to give up the option of it, not yet. After all, we only have one ally.” They smile at him, shake the arm they have clutched in their grasp. “Besides, if the worst does come to pass, I trust you to make sure the titans don’t reach Hizuru’s shores.”

And Eren- stills.

That’s right, he thinks faintly, the one controlling the rumbling- that would be me. 

He abruptly wishes they had more of the tonic they gave to Sasha. All of the nausea that’d been building throughout this conversation rushes up at him, and he turns to face the ocean, swallowing convulsively. 

How could he not have realised? The brass could pull the trigger, but Eren is the gun. He would know. He would remember.

“But- we can’t,” says Jean, staring at Hange like he’s looking at a stranger, “if we use the rumbling, the Wall Titans will decimate everything. Indiscriminately. So many innocent people would die.”

“I agree,” says Hange, bowing their head. “But you have to understand, these decisions aren’t just made by me. It’s for the entire brass to decide. And you wanna know what Zackly said?” their lips set into a grim line, “‘Sparing innocents has never stopped them from using titans before’.”

Violence breeds violence. Eren remembers realising that, in a conversation with Floch a whole year ago, when the alliance with the Volunteers was still novel and promising. He remembers asking Floch, if we killed everyone across the ocean, would we be free then?

He stares out at the ocean, at where Marley must lie beyond the leagues of blue ocean, and thinks of his father. Grisha’d been convinced of this idea of an Eldian Empire- the rise of the glorious nation of old, free from the tethers of ancestral guilt and oppression. It sounds idealistic, but Eren knows what was implied: that Marley would pay for what they did. 

But then again: hadn’t he only become a restorationist in the first place because he’d lost his sister?

How many sisters would Eren kill, with the rumbling? How many siblings, parents, teachers, doctors? How many vengeful loved ones would he leave behind?

It has to end some other way, thinks Eren desperately, it can’t end this way. This wouldn’t solve anything.

Hange eyes them all with a firm gaze. “This is about survival. We don’t have the luxury of only making decisions that we’re comfortable with.” 

Eren doesn’t meet Hange’s stare. Conviction in this is not something he wants to acquire.

Hange sighs, slouching back to gaze at the sky. They look older than he ever remembers them being. Softly, they say, “War is cruel. There’s no point in us standing here pretending otherwise.”

Eren looks back out into the horizon, where his father's childhood home lies in wait, where the pages of his journals are set. Where he’d lost a sister, a son, an entire life to inhumanity and bigotry. And here Eren is, a soldier in the burgeoning beginnings of the New Eldian Empire his father sacrificed everything for. 

He wonders, grim, if it’s shaping up to be any different than what Grisha hoped to leave behind.

When they finally arrive in Marley, several days later, the first thing that he registers is the noise.

They have just arrived, still clutching at their suitcases like lost school children. Onyankopon has been assigned the unenviable task of ushering them the short distance from the port to the Hizuru Embassy.

The sun is high in the sky, and there seems to be almost too much to take in. Onyankopon has led them to some sort of marketplace and the noise permeates Eren’s senses first, because there’s such an abundance of it- vendors yelling prices for their goods, parents chasing after errant children and the whistle of the police officer across the street as he directs traffic.

Eren stands by Mikasa, away from where the others have moved on to gawk at things. He knows they’re both feeling a little overwhelmed, a little out of their depth. The fabric of his suit strains awkwardly against his shoulders as his muscles tense. Eren and Mikasa are more wary than some of the others, a little more street smart. They know to observe the people, rather than the things, and in Marley everyone looks so strange, too content and well-dressed, like they’ve never seen suffering a day in their lives. Eren and Mikasa lean against each other and stare in judgemental solidarity.

A little way away, the others gape in wonder as a manned vehicle drives by them on the street. “Woah! Do you see guys see that car? It’s huge!” gasps Connie. “I wonder what it looks like on the inside."

“That isn’t a car!” insists Sasha. “Cars don’t look like that.”

“No, that’s a car. We learned about it, remember? Marleyan cars aren’t made of ultrahard steel, so they can’t make it as slim as ours,” corrects Hange-san, imperiously. They pause to wave at the driver. “Hello, peasant!”

Jean darts nervous eyes to their surroundings and hisses, “Keep it down, oddballs.”

Their antics have begun to attract strange stares from the assembled Marleyan people. Eren and Mikasa take several pointed steps back from the others, and try to look as bland and uninvolved as possible.

From beside Jean, Armin remarks, “This is bad. People definitely know we’re not from here.”

“Yeah, let’s pretend we don’t know them.” Jean casts around for a place to hide. He spots Eren and Mikasa, and begins to tow Armin in their direction. “Just like Eren and Mikasa, Armin, we’ll just pretend like them.”

On the other side of the group, Levi sighs resignedly and turns to Onyankopon, “Hey. If you don’t stop them, they’re going to find a stick and break the car open.”

Onyankopon laughs, “No they wouldn’t-” He stops. “They found a stick!” 

Levi makes a tsk sound as he watches Onyankopon rush over to herd the others away. The captain doesn’t bother trying to help, just makes his way over to Eren and places a hand on the small of his back as he frowns up at him. “What’s the weather like?” he asks, voice too concerned for such a seemingly banal question.

But it isn’t trivial, not really. After the night they got together, Levi’s taken to using that as a way to ask Eren if he’s okay. It makes warmth crawl into Eren’s chest, no matter how not okay he is at any given moment. He sees the others shoot them confused looks, but he doesn’t care what they think. It’s an Eren-and-Levi thing.

“Kinda cloudy,” Eren admits. He leans back into Levi’s hand as he watches the Marleyans, discomfited. “Doesn’t something seem a little off to you? Marley is supposed to be at war, but everyone looks so… happy.”

Levi hums as he assesses their surroundings, considering. He walks off to a nearby vendor, trades a couple coins and comes back with a thick newspaper. “Let’s see,” Levi says, as he thumbs through the pages. It takes him a while to make sense of the Marleyan alphabet, which is ever so slightly different from their own. Eventually, he says, “Yup. Marley’s still fighting the Mid-East Allied Forces. Apparently they’re gaining ground though, and expect to confront the enemy at ‘Fort Slava’, wherever the hell that is.”

Jean frowns, turning to look at their surroundings. “No one here seems to care about any of that, though? I mean, you’re the first person to even buy a newspaper since we got here.”

Levi sighs. He folds the newspaper up and tucks his arm tighter around Eren’s waist, like he’s wary and about to break a hard truth to them. “It’s probably easier for Marley to keep things this way. If everyone knew what war was really like, no one would sign up for it.”

Grimly, Armin adds, “And no one would support a government who would go through with it.”

“Are you serious?” demands Eren. “Marley just keeps attacking the other nations and killing off their own soldiers and their families don’t even care?”

“I don’t think the soldiers are coming from these families, Eren,” Levi says quietly.

There’s a pause, and then they all turn towards the end of the market square. Just behind the bustle of busy stalls, they can catch a glimpse of the eerily quiet entrance to the Internment Zone.

There’s something oddly dystopian about the scene, like it’s straight out of one of the zombie horror stories Connie used to read. The buildings on the other side of the gate are noticeably run-down and old fashioned, the trees look half-dead, and there’s not a single person that can be seen from here. Guards are patrolling the gate, and there are far too many of them than any civilian area should have. They have rifles strapped across their chests- how unnecessary- and grimly, Eren realises where he’s standing.

This is likely where his aunt had died, as a child, eaten by dogs for crossing the gate.

Levi’s right. Why should the larger population be concerned, when they have so little care for the Eldians in Marley, anyway? That they’d keep them isolated in alienages, like they contain some sort of infectious disease, is proof enough of their bigotry. He eyes the marketplace with mounting disdain. He wonders if these people even know the death tolls, or if they live in blissful ignorance, convinced that their superiority is merely the natural order of things.

Abruptly, Eren is furious. He hates this whole stinking nation and all its privileged, peaceful prosperity. He eyes the goods that line the stalls. How many of them are funded by the spoils of Marley’s conquests? By the blood of impoverished Subjects of Ymir, conscripted into the army? Suddenly, he can kind of sympathise with Zackly’s point. Why should they care for people as heartless as this? Why should they bother showing mercy? He gnashes his teeth together so hard, it makes an audible click.

“Eren,” Mikasa warns, “not here.”

“I know. I just… even though the outside world is so vast, it’s still fucking stupid,” he snaps, arms crossed around his chest. Spitefully, he adds, “I hope the Mid-East Allied Forces win.”

A couple people side-eye Eren weirdly as they pass their little group. Armin watches their surroundings warily. “Just keep it down until we get to the embassy, at least.”

Crossing his arms tighter around himself, Eren sighs morosely. Almost as if he wants to cheer Eren up, Levi reaches up to pinch his cheek. “Look at this face,” he mutters, tugging at Eren’s skin. “Is this a serious face? You’re capable of making a serious face?”

Eren frowns with his lips pursed, in what a lesser being might call a pout, as he bats Levi’s hand away. “Stop,” he whines, and Levi looks like he might say something back when his eyes suddenly dart to the crowd.  

“Eh? Where’s my purse?” He hears Sasha cry, patting at her pockets. “I can’t find it.”

Levi frowns, hand dropping down to his side. “Did you see that? Some kid… No, I missed it.” He shakes his head as if to clear it. There’s a self-deprecating smile on his face as he looks up at Eren. “You’re too distracting.”

“Sorry,” Eren mutters gruffly, looking away. Despite Levi’s jesting, he can’t shake the sombre mood that clings to him.

The rest of the Scouts don’t seem to share his discomfort. The loss of her purse doesn’t deter Sasha’s spending. Instead, she somehow convinces Connie to part with the rest of his allocated funds in exchange for odd Marleyan snacks (“This is the ice cream thing Niccolo told us about!”). Hange is marvelling at every item on sale, loudly exclaiming at any oddity they perceive.

But Eren can’t shake the feeling of dualism that permeates his own experience. If these people knew who they were, they’d treat them differently, that’s for sure. He imagines the twist their faces would take. Would they even accept their money? Or would they just herd them off to the Internment Zone?

No, Eren swallows, if they found out who I was… they’d have someone eat me.

It’s hard for Eren to relax after that, almost hyper aware of the danger of the situation. He’s starting to second guess the wisdom of him even being on this trip, but he supposes it’s a bit late for that. He’s already here. The dull edge of panic chafes inside him. Levi notices, and sticks close to him, one hand around Eren’s waist the whole morning. It helps, but still, Eren doesn’t fully calm down until they make it to the embassy.

The embassy building itself is stately, situated behind a tall gate and some gardens that seem to feature more rocks than plants. There are guards at the gate who nod to them, and a short attendant who greets them at the door. Once they’re ushered into a sitting room and the doors are shut behind them, the constant hum of noise from the outside abruptly stops. Eren collapses into a chair in relief. The rest follow suit, finding a place to sit on in the circle of sofas set around an expensive looking coffee table.

Someone brings out some tea and biscuits, and not too long after, Kiyomi saunters in with a retinue of attendants, a letter clutched in her hands.

She shakes hands with each of them and pulls Mikasa into a slightly awkward hug. “I hope the journey wasn’t too arduous for you all,” she says when she draws away, smiling pleasantly. “Onyankopon, your help in guiding everyone here was much appreciated.”

To his credit, Onyankopon says, “It was my pleasure.” But it’s obvious that he’s bullshitting. He looks like he’s aged forty years just from the stress of it all.

“Well, now that you’re all here, I thought I might bring this to your attention,” Kiyomi begins, primly folding her robes behind her as she sits in a chair at the head of their little circle. She passes the letter to Hange.

Hange-san takes it, frowning thoughtfully at its contents. “The Association to Safeguard the Subjects of Ymir?” They wrinkle their nose. “Bit of a clunky name, isn’t it?”

Connie strokes his chin thoughtfully, “What would the acronym be? ASSY? ASSYM?”

“Or just ASS,” snorts Sasha. They both snicker.

“No one cares about the acronym, idiots.” Levi rolls his eyes at them. He turns to Kiyomi. “What do these people do?”

“They advocate for the rights of continental Eldians. With the recent advancements of medical science, countries have begun conducting large-scale blood tests to identify citizens who hold the titan gene. Those that do are taken to Internment Zones, socially shunned, or…never heard from again,” Kiyomi says grimly. The mood in the room, previously bolstered by Sasha and Connie’s levity, becomes sombre. “Understandably, many try to escape. Some countries even exile them forcefully. Coupled with the thousands of people fleeing Marley’s war, the continent is suffering something of a refugee crisis.”

“So this association aims to stop their persecution?” asks Armin.

“Yes.” Kiyomi sighs, steepling her fingers on her lap. “Though it seems as though your goals may be similar, I have a bad feeling about them. Their rhetoric makes clear that they view themselves as distinct from those of you who live on Paradis Island. It could make our efforts to foster new diplomatic relations even worse.”

Hange rubs their fingers against their eye. “You mean to say that they're gonna use us as some sort of scapegoat to further their own agenda.”

“Precisely.”

They look at Onyankopon for help. He shrugs helplessly. “We knew it was going to be tough.”

“Yes, though it’s a shame our predictions were right,” sighs Kiyomi. “Regardless, what I said is mere speculation for now. The Association to Safeguard the Subjects of Ymir is going to present their case at an international forum tomorrow. I will attend on our behalf, and then we can know for certain where they stand.”

She pauses, eyeing the rest of them doubtfully. “You’ll forgive me for not extending an invitation.” Her gaze flickers to Connie and Sasha. She knows them well enough by now to worry. “I would not wish to give anything away by causing… a scene.”

Blissfully oblivious to her snide remark, Connie asks, “What should we do instead?”

“We could visit a museum? Collect some insights into Marleyan history?” Armin suggests.

“Yes, or we could go to a library,” agrees Hange.

Sasha frowns at them. “We could just ask Hizuru for that information later. Since we’re here, we should try and sneak into the Internment Zone, see what we can find out.”

“Yes, because we came here specifically to die,” Jean remarks sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Although Sasha’s plan sounds stupid, but there’s something about it that catches his attention. They keep speaking of alliances and looking towards big associations or noble houses like the Azumabitos, but Eren has no interest in kissing up to tyrants. He wonders- what about the people who are like them? The persecuted and suffering. Would they not be more sympathetic? Would they not share a similar hate for Marley? He looks at Onyankopon and remembers that he had come to aid Paradis Island because Marley had taken his homeland and forced him to fight. 

Change doesn’t have to come from the higher places, Eren knows. It’s just as powerful from the ground up.

“Sasha’s got a point actually,” Eren cuts in. The others pause, turning to frown at him.

Levi raises his eyebrows. “You want to sneak into the Internment Zone?”

“Don’t tell us you actually want to meet with-'' Hange pauses, their eyes darting to Onyankopon, “-You Know Who.”

Onyankopon blinks, nonplussed. “What? Who are you guys talking about?”

“No, of course not.” Eren scoffs, as everyone collectively pretends they didn’t hear Onyankopon’s question. He throws one arm over the back of Levi’s chair and uses the other to gesture in the air as he talks. “Forget about the Internment Zone, we know enough about it from my dad’s journals, and I doubt much has changed, anyway. Lady Kiyomi mentioned refugees who are fleeing the war- why don’t we go visit them? They must know something about Marley’s military tactics, right?”

Armin hums. “That’s not a bad idea, Eren. They’d definitely have no reason to withhold information from us, at least.”

Hange taps a finger against their chin. “Yes, we could say we’re here from Hizuru, and we’re considering sending humanitarian aid to them. Is there a town or something that the government has relocated them to?”

Kiyomi shakes her head. “Unfortunately, Marley is not that kind. They’ve been left to camp in the desert outside the city for the last few months. It’s about a two- no, three hour walk from here.” But Kiyomi looks doubtful, like she doesn’t trust them to be discreet. “Are you certain you would not like to reconsider going to a museum or a library? I can have my assistants accompany you.”

“No way. If the museums are anything like the newspapers, then they’re chock full of propaganda,” Jean dismisses.

“Besides, the information from the refugees is bound to be more relevant than anything in a museum. This could give Hizuru an edge too, Aunty,” Mikasa entreats, blinking guilelessly at Kiyomi. Eren watches as the older woman noticeably softens.

“Very well,” she says softly. She turns to Onyankopon. “You’ll follow them, won’t you?”

He turns a rather sickly pallor, his brow creasing with stress, but he still says, “Yes, of course.”

“Great!” Hange claps their hands together. “Our survey awaits.”

The next morning they’re off. The sun is high in the sky, and though they’ve all made it through far longer treks, something about the heat makes the journey mildly unbearable. They’re all progressing to the stage of discomfort that makes them question the wisdom of leaving at eight in the morning to march through a shadeless desert. Marley is much less humid than Paradis, and the sun burns hot against Eren’s skin.

Armin is the worst off, billows of steam rising off him as he gets sunburn after sunburn, only for his body to heal it back to prime roasting conditions. Despite his claims of being abandoned, they’ve all given him a wide berth because the steam he emits makes the already hot weather feel that much more scorching. He trails behind their group, whining sadly every few minutes.

But even louder than Armin’s protestations are Sasha’s. In exchange for paying for all her food yesterday, Connie has coerced Sasha into giving him a piggyback ride for the rest of the way there. Sasha has begun to slouch under his weight pathetically, like a sapling deprived of sustenance. Her face is scrunched up, but she seems to be too dehydrated to cry.

Levi snorts at the sight of them. Eren turns to him, nudging his partner with his elbow as he raises his eyebrow teasingly. “You want a ride, too?”

“Tempting,” Levi smirks. “Maybe not this kind of ride, though.”

Eren chokes, stumbling in the sand. Levi laughs at him, head thrown back despite the way the sunlight must shine in his eyes. Eren shoves at him in retribution, but Levi twists to avoid it, and the momentum sends Eren spiralling into the sand again. Levi continues to laugh at him, the sadist. Eren sees the others shoot them looks, ranging from fond smiles to fake gags, and decides to keep his shoving to himself for a while.

They’ve passed the city proper now and are far enough off the road that all they see is open desert. Jean has been casting aspersions about their whereabouts for the last half hour or so, and Eren can see Onyankopon’s famous patience slowly wearing thin. He has a feverish vision of Onyankopon attempting to kill Jean only for Mikasa to then kill Onyankopon in revenge. Jean evidently does not share this vision, because his questions increase in frequency and Onyankopon’s scowl increases in intensity.

Just when Eren begins to believe that he’ll spend the next few years of his life visiting his sister in prison, they crest a sand dune and a makeshift village springs into existence.

There are tents of different sizes spread out over the desert, with tarps of varying shades and sizes. People are bustling all around the encampment: there are children playing in the open spaces, groups of people setting up extensions to the tent complex, and old men sitting on little stools, sipping tea.

There’s laughter floating in the air, a soft tune that sounds like singing, and cheers from the group on the far left when they manage to set up another tent. Despite his discomfort, Eren feels a grin tug up the corner of his lips.

“Finally,” Onyankopon pants, hands on his hips. “Let’s go.”

He leads them down the sand dune, some of them sliding a little as they make their way down, and off towards the entrance to the largest tent. Eren hangs back as Hange and Onyankopon are approached by an older man in a brimless hat. Eren’s eyes flit around the rest of the camp instead, entranced by the display of culture and solidarity apparent here. Everyone seems to be helping each other somehow, even if it’s just to carry a small box away from the sand. There’s a sense of togetherness that’s easily perceptible. The people here look different than the ones Eren’s grown up with- their skin is closer in shade to Onyankopon’s than to Eren’s own and their hair is the same colour as Mikasa’s, but the women keep them covered in a light shawl.

As he looks around, Eren’s eyes catch on a young boy, in a dark blue vest, watching them with pursed lips. A woman stands behind him, arms crossed and a disappointed frown on her face. Eren can’t hear what she’s saying from this far away, but somehow he doesn’t need to- the sight of a mother scolding her errant child transcends any barrier.

He smiles at the boy, endeared, and that seems to give the kid the courage to run up to them. Eren expects him to approach Eren himself, but he runs further into their group, to where Sasha is still holding a smug Connie. The boy’s got something clutched in his hands and as Eren watches, he sheepishly offers it to Sasha.

She blinks. “My purse!” she cries, and in the next moment she has released Connie completely. He squawks, arms wheeling as he tries to brace himself, but it’s no use. He crashes pathetically into the sand behind him.

The boy is saying something to Sasha, one foot nervously tracing patterns into the sand below him, but he’s speaking words that Eren can’t recognise. Sasha looks at the rest of them but they all shrug back helplessly. The boy seems to realise that there’s a language barrier and he huffs, frustrated, before he steals himself. Then he bows, low and sincere, to Sasha.

She sucks in a breath. Her eyes flit to the purse in her hands, and Eren sees her juggle it a little, judging its weight. She pauses for a second, taking in the surroundings, the tent and the desert, the number of people. 

Then she reaches out and grasps the kid’s small hand in one of hers. She places the pouch into his palm and closes his fingers around it. “You keep it,” she says.

The boy blinks, stupefied. From far behind them, the boy’s mother is waving her hands frantically in the air, shouting something. But Sasha just smiles, and bows once back at them. “It’s okay. I want you to have it.”

Something about her expression must get the point across, because the boy cheers, raising his hands victoriously over his own head. His mother smacks a palm against her forehead, and somehow the tension breaks- Eren laughs, and so does Sasha and suddenly a group of people have come to usher them into the tent. Stools are pulled up and someone brings in an ornate tray laden with tea in the most gorgeous cups Eren’s ever seen- they have no handle, and the brims are etched in gold.

The boy from earlier touches his arm and offers him a sugar cube. Eren moves to put it into his teacup but their assembled hosts start to exclaim loudly. He blinks in confusion. Onyankopon laughs and tells him, “You put it in your mouth, between your teeth,” he demonstrates, “and then you sip the tea.”

Eren tries it and it somehow revolutionises the drink- every sip is saturated with sweetness. He hums, pleasantly surprised. He catches Levi’s eyes, his captain’s hand poised above a sugar cube, a constipated frown on his face. Eren realises his problem immediately. It’s far too sweet for Levi’s tastes, but he can’t just waste it. Instead, they wait until everyone else’s attention shifts away. Then Levi quickly passes Eren the sugar cube and he pops it into his mouth.

The older man who had greeted Hange and Onyankopon at the entrance begins to speak to the group, a large smile on his face. Everyone pauses, unsure how to get past the difference in language. Then Onyankopon clears his throat. “This is Omid,” he explains. “He bids us welcome and asks where we come from.”

“Onyankopon, you speak their language?” Hange gapes, eyes wide.

“I speak many languages.” He smiles. “The city I came from was a port city, and many nations would come to trade there. My father owned a business and he taught me how to buy and sell with all the different people who came to our shores.” His smile turns melancholy. “Of course, that all changed when Marley took over.”

At the mention of Marley, the Mid-Easterners seem to quieten. Omid speaks again, eyes curious. Onyankopon replies, gesturing to the group of Survey Corps soldiers as he speaks. Eren hears the word ‘Hizuru’ and sees the refugees nod pleasantly. Jean waits for Onyankopon to finish before he asks, “How does he know we’re not from Marley?”

“Ah. He noticed Sasha’s generosity, and he says that we’ve treated them with far more kindness in the last five minutes than any Marleyan has shown them their entire stay here.” He nods at Sasha. “He says ‘thank you’ for that, by the way.”

Omid bows his head at Sasha, pressing his hands together in front of him so that each of his fingers line up against each other. Sasha waves her own hands in front of her face, flushing slightly. “Oh no, don’t worry! The kid deserved it. He’s a real pickpocket prodigy.” She nods earnestly, like she’s just bestowed the highest compliment.

Onyankopon pauses. “Yeah, maybe I won’t translate that.”

“Ask them this instead, please- are they all from the same place?” Armin asks.

Onyankopon converses with Omid, and several other members of the crowd offer their input, before he turns back to Armin. “Yes and no. They’re all part of the Mid-East Allied Forces, which is itself a coalition of various nations. Most of the people here are from a country called Akadia, on the Western side, closest to Marley. The others are from countries further East.”

“Are their people still fighting?” Connie asks, intrigued. “Do they think they’ll win?”

Onyankopon dutifully translates. As they watch, the smile falls off Omid's face, and he looks away. It’s some time before he speaks again. “No,” Onyankopon says grimly. “They think Marley will win. It’s been almost four years, and Marley has gained a lot of ground. Though their people are more technologically advanced, he says that Marley has a secret weapon…” Onyankopon frowns, trailing off into silence.

“Secret weapon? What is it?” Hange demands, shaking his arm impatiently.

Onyankopon swallows. He looks physically pained. “He says… the weapon is Zeke. Marley has small airborne carriers, and they drop tied-up Subjects of Ymir onto cities and towns. Then the Beast Titan screams… and suddenly the people who are falling are no longer people. They’re titans.”

There’s eerie silence in the tent as they process that. Eren’s mind conjures up memories of the Colossal Titan falling onto Shiganshina, of Zeke’s screaming roars, and he can’t help his flinch. From the corner of his eye, he sees that Levi has tensed so tightly, the veins on his neck stand out.

Omid breaks the silence, gesturing as he speaks. Onyankopon looks weary as he listens, like he’s learning the practical element to a course and it’s far more gruesome than the theory made it sound. “He says that the war has scattered the Mid-East Alliance’s leadership. There were talks of unifying before this, under one of the royal families, but almost all of them were massacred. The prince is on the run, and Marley is looking to put a puppet government in place.” He scrubs a hand down his face. “They’re saying Fort Slava is the final stand.”

“Shit,” Jean exhales quietly.

“Where will the rest of them go?” Mikasa asks, eyes pained. “Do they mean to stay here in Marley?”

Onyankopon and Omid converse for some time, the other people in the tent pausing to weigh in, and eventually Onyankopon shakes his head tiredly. “They’re not sure. Marley seems to be the best option right now, but the desert is unforgiving. They’re terribly unprepared for another winter, and they doubt Marley will offer any aid. They want to move on, but… they don’t know where else to go. Even if the war ended, returning wouldn’t be an option. With the amount of titans Marley set loose, most cities would be uninhabitable.”

Connie speaks up, voice firm with righteous anger. “It’s fine, then- they can come with us. We’re severely underpopulated, anyway, and we know that’s stalling our progress-”

“Connie,” hisses Hange, “we’re from Hizuru, remember?”

And yes. That’s right.

The Survey Corps members freeze, and the refugees must feel some of the tension, because they gaze back at them.

For a moment, it seems almost as though the air is suspended in the tent. It feels as though no one breathes. It’s small, fairly crowded with the sheer number of people crammed in, and Eren’s gut swoops, as though he’s standing on the edge of a cliff- or on the eve of a battle. Would they end up fighting, if they revealed their identities now? Would their hosts take back their tea, spit in their faces? Eren can’t imagine it, but cruelty is almost always unimaginable- otherwise it wouldn’t seem cruel.

Or perhaps the cruel one is them, because in one of their future options, everyone here would end up dead.

They should go. They should cut their losses, before they become too attached. No matter how sweet the tea, or how wonderful the afternoon, they’re on two different sides. They’d kill all of them if they had to. Eren is too cynical to deny this, but still he feels trapped under the brevity of their time here, under the warmth of their kindness. He finds he can’t conjure the strength to walk away.

They stare, paralysed by their conflicting emotions, until suddenly the boy from before darts in. He weaves in between their stools, something clutched in his hands. He makes his way over to Sasha and drops whatever he was holding onto her lap. It’s a necklace of some kind, the pendant a blue and white circle with a black dot in the middle. The boy swallows and his speech is stuttering, accent thick, as he says; “This is necklace,” gently, he touches his finger to Sasha’s forehead, “to protect you.”

Collectively, they suck in a breath. Sasha sniffs, rubbing her nose roughly as she leans forward so the boy can slip the necklace over her head.

Their hosts seem to settle, like the kid’s trust has reassured them. Omid ruffles the boy’s head affectionately, someone refills a teapot, and Eren finds he has tears in his eyes all the while. Desperately, he asks himself: Does it matter if they’d hate us? Is that reason enough for them to die?

He doesn't know the answer.

They end up staying for dinner, and though the refugees can’t possibly have much, they share all their food. Someone starts a beat and suddenly there’s music and a dance circle which everyone seems to get swept up in. Eren finds himself picking up a few of their phrases, and he likes the way the language sounds- it’s melodious, like they’re always singing. As the night wears on, someone brings out alcohol and there’s a whole new wave of revelry. Eren isn’t surprised at his own inclination to get wasted. Everyone else seems to feel the same, especially Onyankopon. He chugs a whole bottle himself, to raucous cheering, and is lost to conversation.

The alcohol helps the others overcome the language barrier without their translator. For Eren, the booze helps numb some of the irrepressible guilt that chews him from the inside out. But then someone lays a blanket on him, where he’s collapsed on the floor, and he sees Omid and he finds himself imagining it- the rumbling. How many Colossal Titans are in the Walls, anyway? A hundred thousand? Two hundred thousand? As he gazes at the refugees through unfocused eyes, he knows, he knows, that they wouldn’t be able to outrun it. Not with these many people, these many children. They’d all be trampled and crushed to death.

Would there be anything left of them to bury?

He doesn’t know how to pretend that he’s okay with this. He’s drowning under pre-emptive guilt for something that hasn’t even happened yet because he feels like such a crook. He’s sitting here, drinking their liquor and eating their food, under the pretence that his military wouldn’t slaughter them if they had to.

What does that make Eren? Perhaps some would say he’s sympathising too much with the enemy. He knows Zackly and Floch would. They’d tell Eren that these people are other and Eren’s sympathy should belong only to Paradis. But perhaps someone else would call him heartless. He watches the Mid-Easterners, watches their drunken antics and how they joyfully throw their arms around the Survey Corps members, oblivious to any difference between them.

Yes, Eren thinks he would be heartless, if he entertained the notion of the rumbling, because he can’t see the difference between them, either. The innocent people here act just the same as the innocent people on the Island that Eren has sworn to protect. Human life is human life, right? He wonders if going through with the rumbling would erode the very crux of his soul, would change him into something unrecognisable.

He remembers what Armin had said: to defeat a monster, one must discard the very last of their humanity. But devoid of humanity, what else would you be, but a monster yourself?

Eren doesn’t want to be a monster.

It’s abruptly too much for him, and he reaches for another bottle, his fourth or fifth, he doesn’t know. The others, a bunch of lightweights all, have passed the point of inebriation long ago. Eren aims to join them.

The next time he resurfaces, he’s not in the desert.

There’s that eerie moment between slumber and wakefulness, where his brain is vacillating between imagination and reality, and the shadows on the walls seem otherworldly and menacing. He’s not entirely sure where he is for a moment, blinking disorientedly in the dim light that comes through the window. Spurned by a few too many kidnapping attempts, panic floods Eren’s system.

Then he catches sight of his belongings strewn across the bedroom and his heart rate slows. He places a quelling hand against his own chest as he exhales in relief. He’s in his room in the Hizuru embassy, tucked under the covers of his bed. He wonders for a second, what it was that had woken him- and then it becomes readily apparent.

There’s a figure in the bed beside him.

Levi is turned away from him, sheets pooled to just below his chest. He’s changed out of the clothes from yesterday, and with a start, Eren realises that he’s in fresh clothes, too. Levi must have had just enough energy to bring himself and a drunk Eren back across the desert, cleaned them both up, and settled Eren into bed before he passed out. Eren shuffles guiltily under the covers.

He’s grateful that Levi is here, that he took care of Eren. But as he stares at the captain, he slowly becomes aware that something isn’t right about the silhouette Levi paints in Eren’s bed. His t-shirt is a little too sheer and his back moves up and down just a little too fast. Concerned, Eren shifts closer and presses a hand against his partner’s back. It’s clammy with sweat.

He sits up, moving to pull the sheets lower over Levi, thinking that maybe the heat is to blame, but no, Levi’s skin is cold. His brows are pinched, lips slightly parted and he’s mouthing something, ever so softly. Eren frowns, ducking down to hear him better-

And that’s when Levi’s hand shoots out, grabbing tight onto his wrist. Eren freezes where he’s hunched over his captain. So softly that it’s barely audible, he can hear Levi murmur, “Wait. Come back.”

Eren swallows, discomfited. He casts a cursory glance around the room, just in case, but it’s empty except for them. A nightmare, then. Eren is no stranger to having them, or to helping others out of them. Nightmares are a common enough affliction for Survey Corps soldiers, after all the horrors they’ve seen.

Conscious that he needs to tread carefully, Eren makes his voice soft and soothing. “Sir, it’s me, it’s Eren. You’re in the Hizuru embassy in Marley.”

Levi’s eyebrows twist further, but Eren doesn’t think he’s conscious just yet. “I told him I would kill you,” Levi whispers, “I swore I would- come back.”

Eren’s blood chills a little in his veins, and he shivers despite himself. Trust Levi to have the most homicidal dreams of them all. 

Levi’s hand tugs suddenly against his wrist and Eren has to brace all of his muscles to stop himself from collapsing on top of the sleeping man. Given what he’s gleaned so far from Levi's dream, he doubts that would be a good idea. “Sir,” Eren murmurs. “Levi, you’re safe here.”

Hearing his name must trigger something, because Levi gasps. His face abruptly twists from vengeful to agonised. “I’m sorry- I tried, I really tried, Erwin-”

Eren feels discomfort curl in his chest. All of a sudden, this seems too precious, too raw. He feels like an intruder here, trespassing on land he hasn’t been invited to. Everything that he’s learned so far of Erwin and Levi, he’s gleaned through his own inferences. Levi has never said anything, and Eren won’t betray his trust by learning about it when he’s unconscious.

So he ducks further down, stomach muscles tensing, and presses a gentle kiss to Levi’s forehead. “It’s storming for you, I know. But it’s time to wake up now, love.”

Their little codeword works, somehow. Levi’s eyes wrench open. He bolts upright, and Eren swerves away to avoid being hit in the face. “Eren?” Levi’s chest is heaving, his eyes are blown wide and it takes awhile for them to focus on the present. When they do, he blinks in confusion, and then once more in realisation. He scrubs a hand roughly down his face. “Shit. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Eren insists, waving his hands in front of himself. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” But Levi doesn’t meet his eyes. He hurriedly swings his legs off the side of the bed. His breathing is still a little too fast. “I shouldn’t have fallen asleep here. Fuck, I didn’t even ask you-”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Eren says, scooching forward on the bed until he can wrap his arms around Levi’s chest. He presses a kiss against the side of his partner’s head. “Let’s slow down for a minute, yeah?”

Levi’s muscles are still tense, like he hasn’t aborted the instinctual reaction to run, but Eren doesn’t give in. His knees bracket Levi’s waist on the edge of the bed, and Eren sways them a little, left and right, left and right, until eventually he can feel the older man beginning to relax in his arms. He nuzzles at Levi’s ear. “Just for the record: you’re always welcome in my bed.”

It takes a moment, but eventually Levi huffs a little laugh, and settles slowly back into his arms. Not one to pass up an advantage, Eren tugs at a more pliable Levi until he’s settled him against the ornate Hizuru headboard. Then he gets up to fetch a glass of water from the nightstand and hands it to him. Levi numbly accepts it, tilting his head back to gulp it down. Eren climbs back into bed, settles with his head in Levi’s lap, and the contact seems to steady his partner a little. Levi sets the empty glass down on the bedside table, and then his fingers drift to Eren’s hair.

It’s quiet for some time. Levi seems focused on methodically pulling apart the tangles Eren’s left in his hair from collapsing on the tent floor earlier, and Eren is focused on the frown Levi has on his face. He doesn’t mind the wait, as Levi collects his thoughts and settles himself. Eren thinks he’d wait forever to hear Levi say a single word.

Eventually, Levi murmurs, “Did I give away any dirty little secrets?”

“You mentioned something about killing someone, but that’s kind of par for the course for you, really.” He taps his fingers against Levi’s thigh, where he’s resting his head. Eren doesn’t want Levi to get distracted by the nightmare, doesn’t want him to shut down and leave, but he also doesn’t want Levi to fret about what he might or might not have said. So he bites his lip and admits, “You did mention something about Commander Erwin, though. You were apologising.”

“Ah,” Levi sighs. He tilts his head back, and almost subconsciously, one of his hands drifts to his upper right shoulder, where Eren knows a nasty scar dwells. Levi stares up at the ceiling, a complex expression on his face. He looks uncomfortable, but not like he’s angry- more like he’s embarrassed. Like he thinks he’s given too much away. With a start, Eren realises that he’s probably the only person who’s ever seen Levi in the middle of a nightmare.

Actually, Eren corrects himself, brows furrowed, this is the first time I’ve seen Levi sleep, period. The last few times they’ve been together, he’s fallen asleep before Levi and woken up after him. Eren wonders, with growing trepidation, if Levi sleeps much at all- or if the nightmares are more pervasive than they seem. He feels his heart twist with worry.

He waits for Levi to say something else. But the minutes begin to pass again, and Levi doesn’t seem inclined to start explaining, so Eren opts to fill the silence himself. “You don’t have to tell me what the dream was, if you don’t want to… what I care more about is how I can help.”

Levi turns to him and his eyes soften just slightly. He presses his thumb to Eren’s bottom lip. “You were perfect, idiot. Don’t worry your pretty head about it.”

Eren flushes, but there’s something dismissive in Levi’s tone that bothers him. He wants to push, wants to be there for Levi as he has always been for Eren. But he had asked how to help, and Levi had told him not to worry. Leaving a kiss on the thumb Levi has pressed to his mouth, Eren reminds himself that it’s not his place to insist that Levi should talk it out. Not if he’s not ready to share.

So he tries the next best thing: getting Levi back to sleep. He shuffles them around, coaxes Levi down onto his front on the bed and hovers over him. “What are you doing?” grumbles Levi, face smushed into the covers.

“Giving you a massage,” Eren says lightly. His hands are practised and sure when they fall on Levi’s shoulders. “I was a doctor’s son, you know.”

Grisha hadn’t had the funds to hire an assistant, and so Eren had played nurse throughout his childhood. He’d set bones, mixed herbs and helped deliver infants (which ended up being his most recurring childhood nightmare). He can manage a simple massage to loosen Levi’s muscles. So he focuses on the tense flesh he can feel beneath his skin, applying pressure until it gradually gives way.

Levi hums in surprised appreciation under his ministrations. “Eren, I’m happy to report that after many years of searching, we’ve finally found your purpose in life.”

“Happy to be of service,” Eren says dryly. He leans forward to press a kiss to the back of Levi’s head. “Go back to sleep, sir.”

Levi snorts at him, like he thinks it’s funny that Eren believes he even can, but Eren wasn’t raised a quitter. He continues to knead at the scarred flesh before him, moves his fists from the spine out, again and again, until gradually, the contented groans Levi lets out begin to quieten and his laboured breaths begin to ease. Then they become even, deep and slow.

Something in Eren’s chest warms. Maybe they’re not at that stage yet where Levi can divulge all his deepest, darkest secrets without hesitation. That’s okay.

As long as he trusts him enough for this- if he can fall asleep with his back to Eren, safe in his arms, then Eren knows he can be patient.

The next morning, Eren discovers that while Levi had enough energy to bring Eren back across the desert, he’d elected to abandon everyone else. Eren is both touched and disturbed. The two of them make their way back to the refugee camp, where their comrades are nursing brutal hangovers and aching backs. The others don’t seem surprised to have been abandoned, just resigned. “Very cold of you,” Hange remarks, when they catch sight of Levi, “Cold, but understandable.”

They decide to wait for their hangovers to cure a little more, imposing once again on Mid-Eastern hospitality. When they finally make it back to the embassy, Hange insists that they procure something to send back to the refugees as a delayed ‘thank you’, and so they do- but then they end up staying for lunch again, which makes them send something else back, which makes them stay again- it’s circular. They end up spending most of their trip there, fixing things and generally helping out when they can. The refugees can’t access marketplace goods easily, so they play the middle-men.

In exchange, the knowledge they glean on Marley’s military and the Warrior Unit is invaluable. The Cart Titan that they saw in Shiganshina is apparently a mobile attack unit, with an armoured squadron of soldiers mounted on its back. They learn that the new Jaw Titan looks nothing like Ymir had, and is nowhere near as self-sacrificing. And interestingly enough, they learn that Marley had never disclosed the loss of the Female Titan- the refugees are anxiously waiting for news on when it’ll appear, unaware that its host is on Paradis Island, trapped in a block of hardened titan skin.

On a personal note, Eren discovers he has a rather twisted sense of humour, when he learns that apparently the Armoured Titan is the Vice-Captain of the Warrior Unit, and he can’t stop the bitter laughter that bubbles out of him, even as everyone else shoots him concerned looks. Wall Maria for a promotion, eh Reiner? He thinks to himself, somewhere between humorous and hysterical. What a trade-off.

When they’re not with the refugees, they spend time in the city proper. They do end up visiting the museum and the library, which contain unsurprisingly biased historical accounts. It shows them the extent of Marley’s self-interested propaganda if nothing else. They all have a good laugh at the story of Helos. It amazes them to no end that the Marleyans genuinely believe some regular human defeated the Devil of All Earth, a being who supposedly created every titan power in existence. Some puny blonde guy in a feathered hat. Defeated the Devil. Ridiculous.

But perhaps the most important information from their trip is the news Kiyomi brings back on the Association to Safeguard the Subjects of Ymir. Their initial hypothesis had been correct- at the international forum, the Association had claimed that the Eldians within Paradis Island were the real devils, the real plague upon the earth that needed to be exterminated. By identifying a common enemy, they hoped to gain some common ground with the other nations.

Somehow, their ploy hadn’t worked. Kiyomi had admitted that her presence had caused a stir, that people had noted the newly acquired wealth implied by the menacing weapons of her bodyguards, her unusual car, her gilded earrings. There’s only so many places wealth like that can be acquired from, so quickly and so silently. She’d smirked and said, “Between greed and fear, well… only one can win out.” 

Still, they find themselves wary of the direction the wind is blowing towards. It’s never good news to be the scapegoat.

Beyond that, there’s little else they can achieve in Marley. Two weeks after they first arrived, they board the Azumabito’s boat for home once more.

Eren makes his way below deck, knapsack slung over his shoulder. He finds he is grateful to leave. Something about this trip had unsettled him- perhaps his agonising over the rumbling, exacerbated by the false contentment of the Marleyan populace. He longs for the comfort of distance. With a sigh of relief that they’re finally heading home, he trudges towards the cabin he shares with the others.

The Hizuru boat is notably different to the ones they’d stolen from Marley. Where the captured Marleyan boats had included large communal spaces, and a central sleeping chamber for everyone except the captain, the Azumabito’s boat seems to strictly enforce the privacy of its officers. The women and men are separated and the highest-ranking members of their trip are given their own cabins. On the voyage here, Eren had snuck into Levi’s room more than once.

He’s idly contemplating doing that very thing as he steps into the men’s dorm but comes up short at the sight that greets him. Armin is on his bed, the bunk above Eren’s, face in his hands. On the floor between their bunk beds, Jean is seated with his arms crossed as Connie hovers over him, glaring.

Eren stares. “What are you guys doing?”

“Jean’s hiding something,” accuses Connie, eyes narrowed. He aims a kick at where Jean’s legs are crossed on the floor. Jean grunts but otherwise doesn’t react. “I found a letter in his bag that’s in a different language, and he won’t tell us what it says.”

Curiously, Eren eyes Jean’s face. He’s staring resolutely at the wall, as though it’s some incredibly complex piece of art and not just stapled planks of wood. Eren recognises the obstinate expression on his face and doesn’t bother asking Jean for answers. He’s almost as stubborn as Eren is, in this kind of mood. Though Jean doesn’t look particularly guilty, he does look nervous enough to raise Eren’s hackles.

“What language? Marley’s Eldian?”

“No, I couldn’t read it.” Connie shakes his head. “The letters were different- more swirly than straight.”

Eren flicks his gaze up at Armin. He’s being suspiciously silent, face still smushed into his hands. “Did you see the letter, Armin? What did it say?”

Armin is quiet for a moment then, then he just says, “Tell me you didn’t do it, Jean.”

As though Armin’s words are the flip of an invisible switch, Jean bursts into life. He uncurls from his hunched over pose, raising his hands to gesture frantically into the air. “I had to, okay? Don’t give me that look, Armin. You know I had to try.”

Eren and Connie make confused faces at each other. “Care to share with the rest of the class?”

Jean sighs. He eyes each of them in turn, and his face is deathly serious when he says, “You can’t tell anyone.”

“What did you do?” Connie demands, face pale. “Do you owe someone money?”

“No, you absolute imbecile,” spits Jean. “Just hear me out, okay?” He sighs in resignation, looking like a man about to face a firing squad. His voice is hushed when he speaks. “I kept thinking about what you said, Connie, about how our progress is stalled because we’re underpopulated. And you were right, we’re severely underpopulated. I mean, don’t you guys remember the Wall Maria Reclamation Operation, eight years ago?”

Eren does. It had been right after Wall Maria had fallen, and the government had ordered tens of thousands of civilians out of Wall Rose, into titan territory, to ease the burden of feeding everyone else. Armin’s grandfather had been among them, Eren remembers, and all they had left of the old man was a dusty hat that hangs in Armin’s wardrobe.

Eren looks at his friend warily, and sees Armin say quietly, “Twenty percent of our population- gone in three months.”

“Exactly. We can’t replace that loss in manpower in time for the war,” says Jean. “Without the increase in productivity, it might actually take us thirty years to modernise, even with Eren’s titan.”

“But what does this have to do with the refugees?” Connie asks, eyes narrowed.

“Well, everytime we visited the campsite, I would get Onyankopon to translate for me and Omid. And I found out that he used to be a military engineer. He helped design anti-titan artillery for the Mid-East Allied Forces, before he retired a couple years ago. And the rest of the people in the tent? They were doctors, construction workers, farmers, qualified professionals,” Jean’s voice gets more worked up as he speaks. “They’re an already trained workforce. If we could get them on the Island, imagine the things we could achieve.”

Eren can see the logic in the idea but, “There’s no point to this, Jean. They think we’re from Hizuru, remember?”

“...That’s the thing,” Jean says nervously. “The letter you found was a first draft. I might have… sent Omid the completed letter, saying they can reach us at the Hizuru embassy, but we’re actually from an island called Paradis-”

“What?!” shrieks Connie.

“Shhh!” Jean hisses, lunging forward to clamp a hand over Connie’s mouth. He looks frantically towards the entrance to the door, terrified. When no one appears, he releases Connie, who immediately shoves at him. Jean stumbles to the side, into Eren’s waiting claws.

“Are you crazy?” Eren demands, shaking Jean by the shoulders. “Nobody can know that we were here!”

“I had to try! If we keep on at the pace we have now, winning the war won’t be a feasible option. We’d have to resort to the rumbling.” Jean swallows. He looks a little shy all of a sudden, like he’s embarrassed by what he’s about to say. “And I’ve been thinking about the future… about having a family-” with Mikasa goes unsaid but not unheard, “-and there were so many kids there. After seeing them, seeing the rest of the world, I can’t-”

He pauses, chest heaving with how worked up he is. He buries his face in his hands. Through the gaps in his fingers, like it’s being pried forcefully out of him, Jean admits; “I can’t justify the rumbling to myself, anymore.”

Everyone stills. Connie blinks owlishly, mouth agape. Eren drops his arms from where they’re clinging to Jean’s shoulders, and like a puppet with its strings cut, he flops listlessly onto the floor. Jean’s heavy exhales disrupt the silence, but they’re the only noise in the room. There’s a wary tension to the air- like when a teacher asks a particularly tricky question in class. Everyone thinks they know the answer, but no one is brave or stupid enough to say it yet.

Or at least, no one but Eren. “I don’t want to do the rumbling, either,” he admits, almost stuttering with how quickly the words escape him.

“Me neither,” Connie confesses, as he flops onto the floor beside him.

“Honestly, I feel the same,'' Armin adds, “I can’t stop thinking about how much knowledge they had to share. They have such a vibrant culture, and it would all disappear, with the rumbling.”

There’s a moment in time where they all just stare at each other, slumped over in relief at their admissions. So consumed by his own role in the rumbling, Eren hadn’t paused to think that the others might feel guilty over it, too. After all, it’s not like they’d be in control of it.

But as Eren stares at his friends, he realises that hardly matters. Just as they had confronted Jean about the letter, tried to keep him in check- they would do the same for Eren, and would hold themselves accountable if he goes through with it.

He’s been an idiot about it this whole time. He was never going to bear the guilt of it alone.

Eren isn’t the only one to reach that conclusion. It takes one beat, two- Then their room explodes with noise.

“Why didn’t any of you say that?” cries Armin. “After what Hange said, I honestly thought I was treasonous for not wanting to do it!”

“Why didn’t we say that? Why didn’t you say that? And this idiot!” Connie yells, throwing a pillow violently at an unsuspecting Jean. It hits him full in the face and he falls pathetically backwards onto the floor. “He didn’t even tell us, he just wrote some stupid letter!”

“The letter isn’t stupid! It was my last resort,” Jean snarls, shaking raised fists in outrage. “I’ve been going crazy with guilt for weeks!”

“You’ve been going crazy with guilt?” demands Eren, as he shoves at Jean, indignant. “You’re not the one with the Founding Titan. I’ve been over here worrying that I’m about to become some doomsday prophet!”

Despite his anger, Connie snickers. “I bet some people really would worship you. What would they be called? Erenites? Yeagerists?”

Eren groans, “Don’t fucking joke about that.”

“How long have you guys thought this way?” Armin asks, shaking his head incredulously. “I really thought everyone was resigned to it.”

He exhales a heavy breath, tilting his head back to lean against the bunk behind him. He sees his friends now, giddy with relief, and thinks they really are idiots. All this time, they could have been commiserating together, discussing better solutions, alleviating their pre-emptive remorse. But no- fucking cowards, all of them, trying to suffer in silence

Eren had let his perception of the rumbling be coloured by Kiyomi’s easy suggestion of it, by Hange’s grim detachment from it. But the truth is, they have time. They know their next steps against Yelena, and it will have to take them some time to capture Zeke. They can still bolster their production lines, develop their military- they don’t need the rumbling, just yet.  

He feels lighter suddenly, with the heaviness of confusion lifted from him. In the absence of its weight, he slumps further down, until he’s just lying flat out on the floor. Then something occurs to him, and his brows twist in confusion. “Wait. How did you even manage to write them a letter in their language, anyway? You don’t speak Akadian.”

“We went to a library. They had a bilingual dictionary.” Jean scratches the back of his head. “I may have… stolen it.” Connie whistles, impressed, and though Jean rolls his eyes, there’s a smugness that clings to him.

Armin is fiddling nervously with his fingers. “Should we… tell someone about the letter? You know, in case they do rat us out to Marley and we lose all our alliances and end up dead?”

“Are you crazy? They’ll shoot us for treason,” snaps Jean. He narrows his eyes at Eren. “And don’t you dare tell Captain Levi, you whipped fucker.”

Eren splutters. “Hey! Connie’s the snitch, not me.”

“Untrue and uncalled for,” recites Connie, like he’s defended himself against the accusation to the point of rote repetition. He probably has.

“Maybe we don’t need to tell anyone?” rambles Armin, almost to himself, still fidgeting nervously. “I mean, Jean could have horribly mistranslated the letter and I’m just worrying for nothing.”

Even as Jean squawks in offence, Eren hums in agreement, “That’s true.”

“Very possible,” Connie adds thoughtfully, stroking his chin. “Hey, didn’t you get a C for translation work during the briefings- mmfh!”

Jean’s hand clamps hard around Connie’s mouth. “You weren’t supposed to tell anyone that,” he snaps, murderous. He rolls his eyes to the ceiling, as if begging for mercy. “You’re totally gonna snitch. We’re all doomed.”

Connie struggles free and then begins to loudly try and redeem himself, and Eren just sighs. It’s highly possible that Connie’s going to let something slip, and honestly, even more possible that Eren might. But Eren finds he isn’t worried. If Connie spills the beans and Hange finds out, or Eren tells Levi- so what? They can’t force him to do the rumbling. He has the others to back him up now. He’s not alone in this.

Eren spares a thought for the Eren of two weeks ago, alone and agonised in the desert. He wonders if there’s a version of himself, in another life, that never relied on his friends this way, that never placed his trust in his comrades. Maybe he never overcame the narcissism Levi made fun of him for, years ago- maybe he always fought his battles alone.

The Eren of this moment doesn’t envy him.